proofreading team. [illustration: (smoker)] pipe and pouch the smoker's own book of poetry compiled by joseph knight [illustration] boston joseph knight company * * * * * _copyright, ,_ by joseph knight. university press: john wilson and son, cambridge, u.s.a. * * * * * dedicated to my friend and fellow-smoker, walter montgomery jackson. * * * * * preface. this is an age of anthologies. collections of poetry covering a wide range of subjects have appeared of late, and seem to have met with favor and approval. not to the busy man only, but to the student of literature such compilations are of value. it is sometimes objected that they tend to discourage wide reading and original research; but the overwhelming flood of books would seem to make them a necessity. unless one has the rare gift of being able to sprint through a book, as andrew lang says mr. gladstone does, it is surely well to make use of the labors of the industrious compiler. such collections are often the result of wide reading and patient labor. frequently the larger part is made up of single poems, the happy and perhaps only inspiration of the writer, gleaned from the poet's corner of the newspaper or the pages of a magazine. this is specially true of the present compilation, the first on the subject aiming at anything like completeness. brief collections of prose and poetry combined have already been published; but so much of value has been omitted that there seemed to be room for a better book. a vast amount has been written in praise of tobacco, much of it commonplace or lacking in poetic quality. while some of the verse here gathered is an obvious echo, or passes into unmistakable parody, it has been the aim of the compiler to maintain, as far as possible, a high standard and include only the best. from the days of raleigh to the present time, literature abounds in allusions to tobacco. the elizabethan writers constantly refer to it, often in praise though sometimes in condemnation. the incoming of the "indian weed" created a great furore, and scarcely any other of the new world discoveries was talked about so much. ben jonson, marlowe, fletcher, spenser, dekker, and many other of the poets and dramatists of the time, make frequent reference to it; and no doubt at the mermaid tavern, pipes and tobacco found a place beside the sack and ale. singular to say, shakespeare makes no reference to it; and only once in his essay "of plantations," as far as the compiler has been able to discover, does bacon speak of it. shakespeare's silence has been explained on the theory that he could not introduce any reference to the newly discovered plant without anachronism; but he did not often let a little thing of this kind stand in his way. it has been suggested, on the other hand, that he avoided all reference to it out of deference to king james i., who wrote the famous "counterblast." whichever theory is correct, the fact remains, and it may be an interesting contribution to the bacon-shakespeare controversy. queen elizabeth never showed any hostility to tobacco; but her successors, james i. and the two charleses, and cromwell were its bitter opponents. notwithstanding its enemies, who just as fiercely opposed the introduction of tea and coffee, its use spread over europe and the world, and prince and peasant alike yielded to its mild but irresistible sway. poets and philosophers drew solace and inspiration from the pipe. milton, addison, fielding, hobbes, and newton were all smokers. it is said newton was smoking under a tree in his garden when the historic apple fell. scott, campbell, byron, hood, and lamb all smoked, and carlyle and tennyson were rarely without a pipe in their mouths. the great novelists, thackeray, dickens, and bulwer were famous smokers; and so were the great soldiers, napoleon, blücher, and grant. while nearly all the poems here gathered together were written, and perhaps could only have been written, by smokers, several among the best are the work of authors who never use the weed,--one by a man, two or three by women. among the more recent writers there has been no more devoted smoker than mr. lowell, as his recently published letters testify. three of the most delightful poems in praise of smoking are his, and with mr. aldrich's charming "latakia" are the gems of the collection. the compiler desires to express his grateful acknowledgments to friends who have permitted him to use their work and have otherwise aided him from time to time; and to the many unknown authors whose poems are here gathered, and whom it was quite impossible to reach; and to messrs. houghton, mifflin, & company, harper & brothers, the bowen-merrill company, and the publishers of "outlook," for their gracious permission to include copyrighted poems. j.k. boston, july, . * * * * * contents. a. page acrostic _j.h._ ad nicotina _e.n.s._ another match _cope's tobacco plant_ ashes _de witt sterry_ b. bachelor's invocation, a _pall mall gazette_ bachelor's views, a _tom hall_ bachelor's soliloquy _cigar and tobacco world_ ballad of the pipe, the _hermann rave_ ballade of tobacco, the _brander matthews_ betrothed, the _rudyard kipling_ brief puff of smoke, a _selim_ c. cannon song _h.p. peck_ chibouque _francis s. saltus_ choosing a wife by a pipe of tobacco _gentleman's magazine_ cigar, the _thomas hood_ cigarette rings _j. ashby-sterry_ cigars and beer _george arnold_ clouds _bauernfeld_ confession of a cigar smoker _anon._ d. discovery of tobacco _cigar and tobacco world_ dreamer's pipe, the _new orleans times democrat_ duet, the _ella wheeler wilcox_ e. edifying reflections of a tobacco smoker _translated from the german_ effusion by a cigar smoker _horace smith_ encomium on tobacco, an _anon._ epitaph _anon._ f. farewell to tobacco, a _charles lamb_ farmer's pipe, the _george cooper_ forsaken of all comforts _sir robert ayton_ free puff, a _arthur irving gray_ friend of my youth _anon._ g. geordie to his tobacco pipe _george s. phillips_ glass is good, a _john o'keefe_ good cigar, a _norris bull_ h. happy smoking ground, the _richard le gallienne_ her brother's cigarette _anon._ he respondeth _life_ how it once was _new york sun_ i. if i were king _w.e. henley_ i like cigars _ella wheeler wilcox_ in favor of tobacco _samuel rowlands_ ingin summer _eva wilder mcglasson_ inscription for a tobacco jar _cope's tobacco plant_ in rotten row _w.e. henley_ in the ol' tobacker patch _s.q. lapius_ in the smoke of my dear cigarito _camilla k. von k._ invocation to tobacco _henry james mellen_ in wreaths of smoke _frank newton holman_ it may be weeds _anon._ k. "keats took snuff" _the globe_ knickerbocker _austin dobson_ l. last pipe, the _london spectator_ latakia _t.b. aldrich_ latest comfort, the _f.w. littleton hay_ loss, a _judy_ lost lotus, the _anon._ m. mæcenas bids his friend to dine _anon._ meerschaum _wrongfellow_ motto for a tobacco jar _anon._ my after-dinner cloud _henry s. leigh_ my cigar _arthur w. gundry_ my cigarette _richard barnard_ my cigarette _charles f. lummis_ my cigarette _tom hall_ my friendly pipe _detroit tribune_ my little brown pipe _amelia e. barr_ my meerschaum pipe _johnson m. mundy_ my meerschaums _charles f. lummis_ my pipe _german smoking song_ my pipe and i _elton j. buckley_ my three loves _henry s. leigh_ o. ode of thanks, a _james russell lowell_ ode to my pipe _andrew wynter_ ode to tobacco _daniel webster_ ode to tobacco _c.s. calverly_ old clay pipe, the _a.b. van fleet_ old pipe of mine _john j. gormley_ old sweetheart of mine, an _james whitcomb riley_ on a broken pipe _anon._ on a tobacco jar _bernard barker_ on receipt of a rare pipe _w.h.b._ p. patriotic smoker's lament _st. james gazette_ pernicious weed _william cowper_ pipe and tobacco _german folk song_ pipe critic, the _walter littlefield_ pipe of tobacco, a _john usher_ pipe of tobacco, a _henry fielding_ pipes and beer _edgar fawcett_ pipe you make yourself, the _henry e. brown_ poet's pipe, the _charles baudelaire_ pot and a pipe of tobacco, a _universal songster_ s. scent of a good cigar, the _kate a. carrington_ seasonable sweets _c._ sic transit _w.b. anderson_ sir walter raleigh! name of worth _anon._ smoke and chess _samuel w. duffield_ smoke is the food of lovers _jacob cats_ smoker's reverie, the _anon._ smoker's calendar, the _anon._ smoke traveller, the _irving browne_ # smoking away _francis miles finch_ smoking song _anon._ smoking spiritualized _ralph erskine_ song of the smoke-wreaths _l.t.a._ song without a name, a _w. lloyd_ sublime tobacco _lord byron_ sweet smoking pipe _anon._ symphony in smoke, a _harper's bazaar_ t. those ashes _r.k. munkittrick_ titlepage dedication _anon._ to an old pipe _de witt sterry_ to a pipe of tobacco _gentleman's magazine_ tobacco _george wither_ tobacco _thomas jones_ tobacco is an indian weed _from "pills to purge melancholy"_ tobacco, some say _anon._ to c.f. bradford _james russell lowell_ to my cigar _charles sprague_ to my cigar _friedrich marc_ to my meerschaum _p.d.r._ too great a sacrifice _anon._ to see her pipe awry _c.f._ to the rev. mr. newton _william cowper_ to the tobacco pipe _the meteor, london_ true leucothoë, the _anon._ 'twas off the blue canaries _joseph warren fabens_ two other hearts _london tobacco_ v. valentine, a _anon._ virginia's kingly plant _anon._ virginia tobacco _stanley gregson_ w. warning, a _arthur lovell_ what i like _h.l._ winter evening hymn to my fire, a _james russell lowell_ with pipe and book _richard le gallienne_ * * * * * pipe and pouch * * * * * with pipe and book. with pipe and book at close of day, oh, what is sweeter, mortal, say? it matters not what book on knee, old izaak or the odyssey, it matters not meerschaum or clay. and though one's eyes will dream astray, and lips forget to sue or sway, it is "enough to merely be," with pipe and book. what though our modern skies be gray, as bards aver, i will not pray for "soothing death" to succor me, but ask this much, o fate, of thee, a little longer yet to stay with pipe and book. richard le gallienne. a poet's pipe. _from the french of charles baudelaire._ a poet's pipe am i, and my abyssinian tint is an unmistakable hint that he lays me not often by. when his soul is with grief o'erworn i smoke like the cottage where they are cooking the evening fare for the laborer's return. i enfold and cradle his soul in the vapors moving and blue that mount from my fiery mouth; and there is power in my bowl to charm his spirit and soothe, and heal his weariness too. richard herne shepherd. my cigar. in spite of my physician, who is, _entre nous_, a fogy, and for every little pleasure has some pathologic bogy, who will bear with no small vices, and grows dismally prophetic if i wander from the weary way of virtue dietetic; in spite of dire forewarnings that my brains will all be scattered, my memory extinguished, and my nervous system shattered, that my hand will take to trembling, and my heart begin to flutter, my digestion turn a rebel to my very bread and butter; as i puff this mild havana, and its ashes slowly lengthen, i feel my courage gather and my resolution strengthen: i will smoke, and i will praise you, my cigar, and i will light you with tobacco-phobic pamphlets by the learnéd prigs who fight you! let him who has a mistress to her eyebrow write a sonnet, let the lover of a lily pen a languid ode upon it; in such sentimental subjects i'm a philistine and cynic, and prefer the inspiration drawn from sources nicotinic. so i sing of you, dear product of (i trust you are) havana, and if there's any question as to how my verses scan, a reason is my shyness in the muses' aid invoking, as, like other ancient maidens, they perchance object to smoking. i have learnt with you the wisdom of contemplative quiescence, while the world is in a ferment of unmeaning effervescence, that its jar and rush and riot bring no good one-half so sterling as your fleecy clouds of fragrance that are now about me curling. so, let stocks go up or downward, and let politicians wrangle, let the parsons and philosophers grope in a wordy tangle, let those who want them scramble for their dignities or dollars, be millionnaires or magnates, or senators or scholars. i will puff my mild havana, and i quietly will query, whether, when the strife is over, and the combatants are weary, their gains will be more brilliant than its faint expiring flashes, or more solid than this panful of its dead and sober ashes. arthur w. gundry. to c.f. bradford. _on the gift of a meerschaum pipe._ the pipe came safe, and welcome, too, as anything must be from you; a meerschaum pure, 'twould float as light as she the girls called amphitrite. mixture divine of foam and clay, from both it stole the best away: its foam is such as crowns the glow of beakers brimmed by veuve clicquot; its clay is but congested lymph jove chose to make some choicer nymph; and here combined,--why, this must be the birth of some enchanted sea, shaped to immortal form, the type and very venus of a pipe. when high i heap it with the weed from lethe wharf, whose potent seed nicotia, big from bacchus, bore and cast upon virginia's shore, i'll think,--so fill the fairer bowl and wise alembic of thy soul, with herbs far-sought that shall distil, not fumes to slacken thought and will, but bracing essences that nerve to wait, to dare, to strive, to serve. when curls the smoke in eddies soft, and hangs a shifting dream aloft, that gives and takes, though chance-designed, the impress of the dreamer's mind, i'll think,--so let the vapors bred by passion, in the heart or head, pass off and upward into space, waving farewells of tenderest grace, remembered in some happier time, to blend their beauty with my rhyme. while slowly o'er its candid bowl the color deepens (as the soul that burns in mortals leaves its trace of bale or beauty on the face), i'll think,--so let the essence rare of years consuming make me fair; so, 'gainst the ills of life profuse, steep me in some narcotic juice; and if my soul must part with all that whiteness which we greenness call, smooth back, o fortune, half thy frown, and make me beautifully brown! dream-forger, i refill thy cup with reverie's wasteful pittance up, and while the fire burns slow away, hiding itself in ashes gray, i'll think,--as inward youth retreats, compelled to spare his wasting heats, when life's ash-wednesday comes about, and my head's gray with fires burnt out, while stays one spark to light the eye, with the last flash of memory, 'twill leap to welcome c.f.b., who sent my favorite pipe to me. james russell lowell. my pipe. when love grows cool, thy fire still warms me; when friends are fled, thy presence charms me. if thou art full, though purse be bare, i smoke, and cast away all care! _german smoking song._ the farmer's pipe. make a picture, dreamy smoke, in my still and cosey room; from the fading past evoke forms that breathe of summer's bloom. bashful will and rosy nell-- ah, i watch them now at play by the mossy wayside well as i did twelve years to-day. we were younger then, my pipe: you are dingy now and worn; and my fruit is more than ripe, and my fields are brown and shorn. nell has merry eyes of blue, and is timid, pure, and mild; will is fair and brave and true, and a neighboring farmer's child. little maid is busy, too, making rare, fictitious pies, just as any wife would do, looking, meanwhile, wondrous wise. drawing water from the well, delving sand upon the hill, going here and there for nell,-- that's her helpmate, willing will. yonder, in the waning light, hand in hand the truants come, nell so fearful lest the night should fall around her far from home. fading, fading, skyward flies this joy-picture you have limned; pipe of mine, the quiet skies of my life you leave undimmed. nell and will are lovers now; there they stray in dying light. that's a kiss! ah, well, somehow nell's no more afraid at night! george cooper. song of the smoke-wreaths. _sung to the smokers._ not like clouds that cap the mountains, not like mists that mask the sea, not like vapors round the fountains,-- soft and clear and warm are we. hear the tempest, how its minions tear the clouds and heap the snows! no storm-rage is in our pinions; who knows us, 'tis peace he knows. soaring from the burning censers, stealing forth through all the air, hovering as the mild dispensers over you of blisses rare, softly float we, softly blend we, tinted from the deep blue sky, scented from the myrrh-lands, bend we downward to you ere we die. ease we bring, and airy fancies, sober thoughts with visions gay, peace profound with daring glances through the clouds to endless day. not like clouds that cap the mountains, not like mists that mask the sea, not like vapors round the fountains,-- soft and clear and warm are we. l.t.a., in _london society_. smoke and chess. we were sitting at chess as the sun went down; and he, from his meerschaum's glossy brown, with a ring of smoke made his king a crown. the cherry stem, with its amber tip, thoughtfully rested on his lip, as the goblet's rim from which heroes sip. and, looking out through the early green, he called on his patron saint, i ween,-- that misty maiden, saint nicotine,-- while ever rested that crown so fair, poised in the warm and pulseless air, on the carven chessman's ivory hair. dreamily wandered the game along, quietly moving at even-song, while the striving kings stood firm and strong, until that one which of late was crowned flinched from a knight's determined bound, and in sullen majesty left the ground, reeling back; and it came to pass that, waiting to mutter no funeral mass, a bishop had dealt him the _coup de grace_. and so, as we sat, we reasoned still of fate and of fortune, of human will, and what are the purposes men fulfil. for we see at last, when the truth arrives, the moves on the chess-board of our lives,-- that fields may be lost, though the king survives. not always he whom the world reveres merits its honor or wins its cheers, standing the best at the end of the years. not always he who has lost the fight rises again with the coming light, battles anew for his ancient right. samuel w. duffield. inscription for a tobacco jar. keep me at hand; and as my fumes arise, you'll find _a jar_ the gates of paradise. _copes tobacco plant._ motto for a tobacco jar. come! don't refuse sweet nicotina's aid, but woo the goddess through a yard of clay; and soon you'll own she is the fairest maid to stifle pain, and drive old care away. nor deem it waste; what though to ash she burns, if for your outlay you get good returns! the last pipe. when head is sick and brain doth swim, and heavy hangs each unstrung limb, 'tis sweet through smoke-puffs, wreathing slow, to watch the firelight flash or glow. as each soft cloud floats up on high, some worry takes its wings to fly; and fancy dances with the flame, who lay so labor-crammed and lame; while the spent will, the slack desire, re-kindle at the dying fire, and burn to meet the morrow's sun with all its day's work to be done. the tedious tangle of the law, your work ne'er done without some flaw; those ghastly streets that drive one mad, with children joyless, elders sad, young men unmanly, girls going by bold-voiced, with eyes unmaidenly; christ dead two thousand years agone, and kingdom come still all unwon; your own slack self that will not rise whole-hearted for the great emprise,-- well, all these dark thoughts of the day as thin smoke's shadow drift away. and all those magic mists unclose, and a girl's face amid them grows,-- the very look she's wont to wear, the wild rose blossoms in her hair, the wondrous depths of her pure eyes, the maiden soul that 'neath them lies, that fears to meet, yet will not fly, your stranger spirit drawing nigh. what if our times seem sliding down? she lives, creation's flower and crown. what if your way seems dull and long? each tiny triumph over wrong, each effort up through sloth and fear, and she and you are brought more near. so rapping out these ashes light,-- "my pipe, you've served me well to-night." _london spectator_. ode to my pipe. o blessed pipe, that now i clutch within my gripe, what joy is in thy smooth, round bowl, as black as coal! so sweetly wed to thy blanched, gradual thread, like desdemona to the moor, thou pleasure's core. what woman's lip could ever give, like thy red tip, such unremitting store of bliss, or such a kiss? oh, let me toy, ixion-like, with cloudy joy; thy stem with a most gentle slant i eye askant! unseen, unheard, thy dreamy nectar is transferred, the while serenity astride thy neck doth ride. a burly cloud doth now thy outward beauties shroud: and now a film doth upward creep, cuddling the cheek. and now a ring, a mimic silver quoit, takes wing; another and another mount on high, then spread and die. they say in story that good men have a crown of glory; o beautiful and good, behold the crowns unfold! how did they live? what pleasure could the old world give that ancient miserable lot when thou wert not? oh, woe betide! my oldest, dearest friend hath died,-- died in my hand quite unaware, oh, baccy rare! andrew wynter. a pipe of tobacco. let the toper regale in his tankard of ale, or with alcohol moisten his thrapple, only give me, i pray, a good pipe of soft clay, nicely tapered and thin in the stapple; and i shall puff, puff, let who will say, "enough!" no luxury else i'm in lack o', no malice i hoard 'gainst queen, prince, duke, or lord, while i pull at my pipe of tobacco. when i feel the hot strife of the battle of life, and the prospect is aught but enticin', mayhap some real ill, like a protested bill, dims the sunshine that tinged the horizon: only let me puff, puff,--be they ever so rough, all the sorrows of life i lose track o', the mists disappear, and the vista is clear, with a soothing mild pipe of tobacco. and when joy after pain, like the sun after rain, stills the waters, long turbid and troubled, that life's current may flow with a ruddier glow, and the sense of enjoyment be doubled,-- oh! let me puff, puff, till i feel _quantum suff._, such luxury still i'm in lack o'; be joy ever so sweet, it would be incomplete, without a good pipe of tobacco. should my recreant muse--sometimes apt to refuse the guidance of bit and of bridle-- still blankly demur, spite of whip and spur, unimpassioned, inconstant, or idle; only let me puff, puff, till the brain cries, "enough!" such excitement is all i'm in lack o', and the poetic vein soon to fancy gives rein, inspired by a pipe of tobacco. and when, with one accord, round the jovial board, in friendship our bosoms are glowing, while with toast and with song we the evening prolong, and with nectar the goblets are flowing; still let us puff, puff,--be life smooth, be it rough, such enjoyment we're ever in lack o'; the more peace and good-will will abound as we fill a jolly good pipe of tobacco. john usher. epitaph _on a young lady who desired that tobacco might be planted over her grave._ let no cold marble o'er my body rise-- but only earth above, and sunny skies. thus would i lowly lie in peaceful rest, nursing the herb divine from out my breast. green let it grow above this clay of mine, deriving strength from strength that i resign. so in the days to come, when i'm beyond this fickle life, will come my lovers fond, and gazing on the plant, their grief restrain in whispering, "lo! dear anna blooms again!" the smoker's reverie. (_october._) i'm sitting at dusk 'neath the old beechen tree, with its leaves by the autumn made ripe; while they cling to the stems like old age unto life, i dream of the days when i'll rest from this strife, and in peace smoke my brierwood pipe. o my brierwood pipe!--of bright fancy the twin, what a medley of forms you create; every puff of white smoke seems a vision as fair as the poet's bright dream, and like dreams fades in air, while the dreamer dreams on of his fate. the fleecy white clouds that now float in the sky, form the visions i love most to see; fairy shapes that i saw in my boyhood's first dreams seem to beckon me on, while beyond them there gleams a bright future, in waiting for me. o my brierwood pipe! i ne'er loved thee as now, as that fair form and face steal above; see, she beckons me on to where roses are spread, and she points to my fancy the bright land ahead, where the winds whisper nothing but love. oh, answer, my pipe, shall my dream be as fair when it changes to dreams of the past? when autumn's chill winds make this leaf look as sere as the leaves on the beech-tree that shelters me here, will the tree's _heart_ be chilled by the blast? while musing, around me has gathered a heap of the leaflets, all dying and dead; and i see in my reverie plainly revealed the slope of life's hill, in my boyhood concealed by the forms that fair fancy had bred. while i sit on the banks of the beautiful stream, picking roses that bloom by its side, i know that the shallop will certainly come, when the roses are withered, to carry me home, and that life will go out with the tide. o my brierwood pipe! may the heart be as light when memory supplanteth the dream; when the sun has gone down may the sunbeam remain, and life's roses, though dead, all their fragrance retain, till they catch at eternity's gleam. anon. a brief puff of smoke. great doctor parr, the learned whig, ne'er deemed the smoke-cloud _infra dig._, in which you could not see his wig, involved in clouds of smoke. quaint lamb his wit would oft enshroud in smoke-igniting laughter loud, like summer thunder in the cloud,-- the lightning in the smoke. dean swift "died at the top;" his head had drifting clouds when wit had fled: dull care lurked in his brain, instead of blowing out in smoke. and cowper mild--no smoker he, bard of the sofa and bohea-- complained his "dear friend bull" not free from lowering stygian smoke. clouds in his non-inebriate nob were doomed the tea tables to rob, inflicting many a painful throb on one who could not smoke! smoke on! it is the steam of life, the smoother of the waves of strife; where chimneys smoke, or scolds the wife, the counteraction--smoke. we ride and work and weave by steam, till ages past seem like a dream in a new world whose dawning beam is redolent of smoke. we travel like a comet wild on which some distant sun had smiled, and from his orbit thus beguiled with a long tail of smoke. the clouds arise from smoking seas, and give, with each conveying breeze, life to the "weed," and herbs, and trees, which turn again to smoke. all nations smoke! havana's pother smokes friendly with its broseley brother: the world's one end puffs to the other, in amicable smoke. when plague and pestilence go forth, and to diseases dire give birth, which walk in darkness through the earth, i clothe myself in smoke. i smoke through desolating years, tabooed from fever, void of fears, and when some dreaded pest appears, i call in doctor smoke. go, reader! perfume ladies' hair and scent the ringlets of the fair with eau cologne and odors rare aloof from healthy smoke. go babble at the ball and rout, and smirk with high-born dames who doubt: thy flames are quenched, thy fires are out, and sinking into smoke. "better," said johnson, great in name, "it were, when poets droop in fame, to see smoke brighten into flame, than flames sink into smoke." selim: _eclectic magazine_. a symphony in smoke. a pretty, piquant, pouting pet, who likes to muse and take her ease, she loves to smoke a cigarette; to dream in silken hammockette, and sing and swing beneath the trees, a pretty, piquant, pouting pet. her christian name is violet; her eyes are blue as summer skies; she loves to smoke a cigarette. as calm as babe in bassinette, she swingeth in the summer breeze, a pretty, piquant, pouting pet. she ponders o'er a novelette; her parasol is japanese; she loves to smoke a cigarette. she loves a fume without a fret; her frills are white, her frock _cérise_,-- a pretty, pouting, piquant pet. she almost goes to sleep, and yet, half-lulled by booming honey-bees, she loves to smoke a cigarette. a winsome, clever, cool coquette, who flouts all grundian decrees,-- pretty, pouting, piquant pet, that loves to smoke a cigarette. _harper's bazaar_. it may be weeds. it may be weeds i've gathered too; but even weeds may be as fragrant as the fairest flower with some sweet memory. anon. seasonable sweets. "_don't be flowery, jacob._"--charles dickens. when the year is young, what sweets are flung by the violets, hiding, dim, and the lilac that sways her censers high, whilst the skylark chants a hymn! how sweet is the scent of the daffodil bloom, when blithe spring decks each spray, and the flowering thorn sheds rare perfume through the beautiful month of may! what a dainty pet is the mignonette, whose sweets wide scattered are! but sweeter to me than all these yet is the scent of a prime cigar! delicious airs waft the fields of june, when the beans are all in flower; the woodruff is fragrant in the hedge, and the woodbine in the bower. sweet eglantine doth her garlands twine for the blithe hours as they run, and balmily sighs the meadow-sweet, that is all in love with the sun, whilst new-mown hay o'er the hedgerows gay flings odorous airs afar; yet sweeter than these on the passing breeze is the scent of a prime cigar. when all the beauties of flora's court smile on the gay parterre, what glorious color, what exquisite form, and dainty scents are there! they bask in the beam, and bend by the stream, like beautiful nymphs at play, holding dew-pearls up in each nectar cup to the glorious god of day. oh, their lives are sweet, but all too brief, and death doth their sweetness mar; but fragrance fine is forever thine, my well-beloved cigar! c. geordie to his tobacco-pipe. good pipe, old friend, old black and colored friend, whom i have smoked these fourteen years and more, my best companion, faithful to the end, faithful to death through all thy fiery core, how shall i sing thy praises, or proclaim the generous virtues which i've found in thee? i know thou carest not a whit for fame, and hast no thought but how to comfort me, and serve my needs, and humor every mood; but love and friendship do my heart constrain to give thee all i can for much of good which thou hast rendered me in joy and pain. say, then, old honest meerschaum! shall i weave thy history together with my own? of late i never see thee but i grieve for him whose gift thou wert--forever gone! gone to his grave amidst the vines of france, he, all so good, so beautiful, and wise; and this dear giver doth thyself enhance, and makes thee doubly precious in mine eyes. for he was one of nature's rarest men,-- poet and preacher, lover of his kind, true-hearted man of god, whose like again in this world's journey i may never find. i know not if the shadow of his soul, or the divine effulgence of his heart, has through thy veins in mystic silence stole; but thou to me dost seem of him a part. his hands have touched thee, and his lips have drawn, as mine, full many an inspiring cloud from thy great burning heart, at night and morn; and thou art here, whilst he lies in his shroud! and here am i, his friend and thine, old pipe! and he has often sat my chair beside, as he was wont to sit in living type, of many companies the flower and pride,-- sat by my side, and talked to me the while, invisible to every eye save mine, and smiled upon me as he used to smile when we three sat o'er our good cups of wine. ah, happy days, when the old chapel house, of the old forest chapel, rang with mirth, and the great joy of our divine carouse, as we hobnobbed it by the blazing hearth! we never more, old pipe, shall see those days, whose memories lie like pictures in my mind; but thou and i will go the self-same ways, e'en though we leave all other friends behind. and for thy sake, and for my own, and his, we will be one, as we have ever been, thou dear old friend, with thy most honest phiz, and no new faces come our loves between. ii. thou hast thy separate virtues, honest pipe! apart from all the memory of friends: for thou art mellow, old, and black, and ripe; and the good weed that in its smoke ascends from thy rare bowl doth scent the liberal air with incense richer than the woods of ind. e'en to the barren palate of despair (inhaled through cedar tubes from glorious scinde!) it hath a charm would quicken into life, and make the heart gush out in streams of love, and the earth, dead before, with beauty rife, and full of flowers as heaven of stars above. it is thy virtue and peculiar gift, thou sooty wizard of the potent weed; no other pipe can thus the soul uplift, or such rare fancies and high musings breed. i've tried full many of thy kith and kind, dug from thy native asiatic clay, fashioned by cunning hand and curious mind into all shapes and features, grave and gay,-- black niggers' heads with their white-livered eyes glaring in fiery horror through the smoke, and monstrous dragons stained with bloody dyes, and comelier forms; but all save thee i broke. for though, like thee, each pipe was black and old, they were not wiser for their many years, nor knew thy sorcery though set in gold, nor had thy tropic taste,--these proud compeers! like great john paul, who would have loved thee well, thou art the "only one" of all thy race; nor shall another comrade near thee dwell, old king of pipes! my study's pride and grace! iii. thus have i made "assurance doubly sure," and sealed it twice, that thou shalt reign alone! and as the dainty bee doth search for pure, sweet honey till his laden thighs do groan with their sweet burden, tasting nothing foul, so thou of best tobacco shalt be filled; and when the starry midnight wakes the owl, and the lorn nightingale her song has trilled, i, with my lamp and books, as is my wont, will give thee of the choicest of all climes,-- black cavendish, full-flavored, full of juice, pale turkish, famed through all the osman times, dark latakia, syrian, persia's pride, and sweet virginian, sweeter than them all! oh, rich bouquet of plants! fit for a bride who, blushing, waits the happy bridegroom's call! and these shall be thy food, thy dainty food, and we together will their luxury share, voluptuous tumults stealing through the blood, voluptuous visions filling all the air! i will not thee profane with impious shag, nor poison thee with nigger-head and twist, nor with kentucky, though the planters brag that it hath virtues all the rest have missed. these are for porters, loafers, and the scum, who have no sense for the diviner weeds, who drink their muddy beer and muddier rum, insatiate, like dogs in all their greeds. but not for thee nor me these things obscene; we have a higher pleasure, purer taste. my draughts have been with thee of hippocrene, and our delights intelligent and chaste. iv. intelligent and chaste since we have held commune together on the world's highway; no falstaff failings have my mind impelled to do misdeeds of sack by night or day; but we have ever erred on virtue's side-- at least we should have done--but woe is me! i fear in this my statement i have lied, for ghosts, like moonlight shadows on the sea, crowd thick around me from the shadowy past,-- ghosts of old memories reeling drunk with wine! and boon companions, lysius-like, and vast in their proportions as the god divine. i do confess my sins, and here implore the aid of "rare old ben" and other ghosts that i may sin again, but rarely more, responsive only unto royal toasts. for, save these sins, i am a saintly man, and live like other saints on prayer and praise, my long face longer, if life be a span, than any two lives in these saintly days. so let me smoke and drink and do good deeds, and boast the doing like a pharisee; am i not holy if i love the creeds, even though my drinking sins choke up the sea? george s. phillips (january searle): _the gypsies of the dane's dike._ invocation to tobacco. weed of the strange flower, weed of the earth, killer of dulness, parent of mirth, come in the sad hour, come in the gay, appear in the night, or in the day,-- still thou art welcome as june's blooming rose, joy of the palate, delight of the nose. weed of the green field, weed of the wild, fostered in freedom, america's child, come in virginia, come in havana, friend of the universe, sweeter than manna,-- still thou art welcome, rich, fragrant, and ripe, pride of the tube-case, delight of the pipe. weed of the savage, weed of each pole, comforting, soothing, philosophy's soul, come in the snuff-box, come in cigar, in strasburgh and king's, come from afar,-- still thou art welcome, the purest, the best, joy of earth's millions, forever carest. henry james mellen. virginia tobacco. two maiden dames of sixty-two together long had dwelt; neither, alas! of love so true the bitter pang had felt. but age comes on, they say, apace, to warn us of our death, and wrinkles mar the fairest face,-- at last it stops our breath. one of these dames tormented sore with that curst pang, toothache, was at a loss for such a bore what remedy to take. "i've heard," thought she, "this ill to cure, a pipe is good, they say. well then, tobacco i'll endure, and smoke the pain away." the pipe was lit, the tooth soon well, and she retired to rest, when then the other ancient belle her spinster maid addressed,-- "let me request a favor, pray"-- "i'll do it if i can"-- "oh! well, then, love, smoke every day, _you smell so like a man!_" attributed to john stanley gregson. an ode of thanks for certain cigars. _to charles eliot norton._ luck, my dear norton, still makes shifts, to mix a mortal with her gifts, which he may find who duly sifts. sweets to the sweet,--behold the clue! why not, then, new things to the gnu, and trews to highland clansmen true? 'twas thus your kindly thought decreed these weeds to one who is indeed, and feels himself, a very weed,-- a weed from which, when bruised and shent, though some faint perfume may be rent, yet oftener much without a cent. but imp, o muse, a stronger wing mount, leaving self below, and sing what thoughts these cuban exiles bring! he that knows aught of mythic lore knows how god bacchus wandered o'er the earth, and what strange names he bore. the bishop of avranches supposes that all these large and varying doses of fable mean naught else than moses; but waiving doubts, we surely know he taught mankind to plough and sow, and from the tigris to the po planted the vine; but of his visit to this our hemisphere, why is it we have no statement more explicit? he gave to us a leaf divine more grateful to the serious nine than fierce inspirings of the vine. and that _he_ loved it more, this proved,-- he gave his name to what he loved, distorted now, but not removed. tobacco, sacred herb, though lowly, baffles old time, the tyrant, wholly, and makes him turn his hour-glass slowly; nay, makes as 'twere of every glass six, whereby we beat the heathen classics with their weak chians and their massics. these gave his glass a quicker twist, and flew the hours like driving mist, while horace drank and lesbia kissed. how are we gainers when all's done, if life's swift clepsydra have run with wine for water? 'tis all one. but this rare plant delays the stream (at least if things are what they seem) through long eternities of dream. what notes the antique muse had known had she, instead of oat-straws, blown our wiser pipes of clay or stone! rash song, forbear! thou canst not hope, untutored as thou art, to cope with themes of such an epic scope. enough if thou give thanks to him who sent these leaves (forgive the whim) plucked from the dream-tree's sunniest limb. my gratitude feels no eclipse, for i, whate'er my other slips, shall have his kindness on my lips. the prayers of christian, turk, and jew have one sound up there in the blue, and one smell all their incense, too. perhaps that smoke with incense ranks which curls from 'mid life's jars and clanks, graceful with happiness and thanks. i pledge him, therefore, in a puff,-- rather frailish kind of stuff, but still professional enough. hock-cups breed hiccups; let us feel the god along our senses steel more nobly and without his reel. each temperately 'baccy _plenus_, may no grim fate of doubtful genus e'er blow the smallest cloud between us. and as his gift i shall devote to fire, and o'er their ashes gloat,-- let him do likewise with this note. james russell lowell. [from "the letters of james russell lowell." copyright, , by harper & brothers.] an encomium on tobacco. thrice happy isles that stole the world's delight, and thus produce so rich a margarite! it is the fountain whence all pleasure springs, a potion for imperial and mighty kings. he that is master of so rich a store may laugh at croesus and esteem him poor; and with his smoky sceptre in his fist, securely flout the toiling alchemist, who daily labors with a vain expense in distillations of the quintessence, not knowing that this golden herb alone is the philosopher's admired stone. it is a favor which the gods doth please, if they do feed on smoke, as lucian says. therefore the cause that the bright sun doth rest at the low point of the declining west-- when his oft-wearied horses breathless pant-- is to refresh himself with this sweet plant, which wanton thetis from the west doth bring, to joy her love after his toilsome ring: for 'tis a cordial for an inward smart, as is dictamnum to the wounded hart. it is the sponge that wipes out all our woe; 'tis like the thorn that doth on pelion grow, with which whoe'er his frosty limbs anoints, shall feel no cold in fat or flesh or joints. 'tis like the river, which whoe'er doth taste forgets his present griefs and sorrows past. music, which makes grim thoughts retire, and for a while cease their tormenting fire,-- music, which forces beasts to stand and gaze, and fills their senseless spirits with amaze,-- compared to this is like delicious strings, which sound but harshly while apollo sings. the train with this infumed, all quarrel ends, and fiercest foemen turn to faithful friends; the man that shall this smoky magic prove, will need no philtres to obtain his love. yet the sweet simple, by misordered use, death or some dangerous sickness may produce. should we not for our sustentation eat because a surfeit comes from too much meat? so our fair plant--that doth as needful stand as heaven, or fire, or air, or sea, or land; as moon, or stars that rule the gloomy night, or sacred friendship, or the sunny light-- her treasured virtue in herself enrolls, and leaves the evil to vainglorious souls. and yet, who dies with this celestial breath shall live immortal in a joyful death. all goods, all pleasures it in one can link-- 'tis physic, clothing, music, meat, and drink. gods would have revell'd at their feasts of mirth with this pure distillation of the earth; the marrow of the world, star of the west, the pearl whereby this lower orb is blest; the joy of mortals, umpire of all strife, delight of nature, mithridate of life; the daintiest dish of a delicious feast, by taking which man differs from a beast. anonymous: _time, james i._ on a tobacco jar. three hundred years ago or soe, one worthy knight and gentlemanne did bring me here, to charm and chere, to physical and mental manne. god bless his soule who filled ye bowle, and may our blessings find him; that he not miss some share of blisse who left soe much behind him. bernard barker. to the tobacco pipe. dear piece of fascinating clay! 'tis thine to smooth life's rugged way, to give a happiness unknown to those--who let a pipe alone; thy tube can best the vapors chase, by raising--others in their place; can give the face staid wisdom's air, and teach the lips--to ope with care; 'tis hence thou art the truest friend (where least is said there's least to mend), and he who ventures many a joke had better oft be still and smoke. whatever giddy foplings think, thou giv'st the highest zest to drink. when fragrant clouds thy fumes exhale, and hover round the nut-brown ale, who thinks of claret or champagne? e'en burgundy were pour'd in vain. 'tis not in city smoke alone, midst fogs and glooms thy charms are known. with thee, at morn, the rustic swain tracks o'er the snow-besprinkled plain, to seek some neighb'ring copse's side, and rob the woodlands of their pride: with thee, companion of his toil, his active spirits ne'er recoil; though hard his daily task assign'd, he bears it with an equal mind. the fisher 'board some little bark, when all around is drear and dark, with shortened pipe beguiles the hour, though bleak the wind and cold the show'r, nor thinks the morn's approach too slow, regardless of what tempests blow. midst hills of sand, midst ditches, dikes, midst cannons, muskets, halberts, pikes; with thee, as still, mynheer can stay, as neddy 'twixt two wisps of hay; heedless of britain and of france, smokes on--and looks to the main chance. and sure the solace thou canst give must make thy fame unrivalled live, so long as men can temper clay (for as thou art, e'en so are they), the sun mature the indian weed, and rolling years fresh sorrows breed. from _the meteors_, london. the patriotic smoker's lament. tell me, shade of walter raleigh, briton of the truest type, when that too devoted valet quenched your first-recorded pipe, were you pondering the opinion, as you watched the airy coil, that the virtue of virginia might be bred in british soil? you transplanted the potato, 'twas a more enduring gift than the wisdom of a plato to our poverty and thrift. that respected root has flourished nobly for a nation's need, but our brightest dreams are nourished ever on a foreign weed. from the deepest meditation of the philosophic scribe, from the poet's inspiration, for the cynic's polished gibe, we invoke narcotic nurses in their jargon from afar, i indite these modest verses on a polyglot cigar. leaf that lulls a turkish aga may a scholar's soul renew, fancy spring from larranaga, history from honey-dew. when the teacher and the tyro spirit-manna fondly seek, 'tis the cigarette from cairo, or a compound from the greek. but no british-born aroma is fit incense to the queen, nature gives her best diploma to the alien nicotine. we are doomed to her ill-favor, for the plant that's native grown has a patriotic flavor too exclusively our own. o my country, could your smoker boast your "shag," or even "twist," every man were mediocre save the blest tobacconist! he will point immortal morals, make all common praises mute, who shall win our grateful laurels with a national cheroot. _the st. james gazette_. to an old pipe. once your smoothly polished face nestled lightly in a case; 'twas a jolly cosy place, i surmise; and a zealous subject blew on your cheeks, until they grew to the fascinating hue of her eyes. near a rusty-hilted sword, now upon my mantel-board, where my curios are stored, you recline. you were pleasant company when by the scribbling of her pen i was sent the ways of men to repine. tell me truly (you were there when she ceased that debonair correspondence and affair) i suppose that she laughed and smiled all day; or did gentle tear-drops stray down her charming _retroussée_ little nose? where the sunbeams, coyly still, fall upon the mantel-sill, you perpetually will silence woo; and i fear that she herself, by the little chubby elf. will be laid upon the shelf just as you. de witt sterry. titlepage dedication. "let those smoke now who never smoked before, and those who always smoked--now smoke the more." acrostic. to thee, blest weed, whose sovereign wiles, o'er cankered care bring radiant smiles, best gift of love to mortals given! at once the bud and bliss of heaven! crownless are kings uncrowned by thee; content the serf in thy sweet liberty, o charm of life! o foe to misery! j.h. another match. _after a.c. swinburne._ if love were dhudeen olden, and i were like the weed, oh! we would live together and love the jolly weather, and bask in sunshine golden, rare pals of choicest breed; if love were dhudeen olden, and i were like the weed. if you were oil essential, and i were nicotine, we'd hatch up wicked treason, and spoil each smoker's reason, till he grew penitential, and turned a bilious green; if you were oil essential, and i were nicotine. if you were snuff, my darling, and i, your love, the box. we'd live and sneeze together, shut out from all the weather, and anti-snuffers snarling, in neckties orthodox; if you were snuff, my darling, and i, your love, the box. if you were the aroma, and i were simply smoke, we'd skyward fly together, as light as any feather; and flying high as homer, his gray old ghost we'd choke; if you were the aroma, and i were simply smoke. from _cope's tobacco plant_. in wreaths of smoke. in wreaths of smoke, blown waywardwise, faces of olden days uprise, and in his dreamers revery they haunt the smoker's brain, and he breathes for the past regretful sighs. mem'ries of maids, with azure eyes, in dewy dells, 'neath june's soft skies, faces that more he'll only see in wreaths of smoke. eheu, eheu! how fast time flies,-- how youth-time passion droops and dies, and all the countless visions flee! how worn would all those faces be, were they not swathed in soft disguise in wreaths of smoke! frank newton holman. ashes. wrapped in a sadly tattered gown, alone i puff my brier brown, and watch the ashes settle down in lambent flashes; while thro' the blue, thick, curling haze, i strive with feeble eyes to gaze, upon the half-forgotten days that left but ashes. again we wander through the lane, beneath the elms and out again, across the rippling fields of grain, where softly flashes a slender brook 'mid banks of fern, at every sigh my pulses burn, at every thought i slowly turn and find but ashes. what made my fingers tremble so, as you wrapped skeins of worsted snow, around them, now with movements slow and now with dashes? maybe 'tis smoke that blinds my eyes, maybe a tear within them lies; but as i puff my pipe there flies a cloud of ashes. perhaps you did not understand, how lightly flames of love were fanned. ah, every thought and wish i've planned with something clashes! and yet within my lonely den over a pipe, away from men, i love to throw aside my pen and stir the ashes. de witt sterry. choosing a wife by a pipe of tobacco. tube, i love thee as my life; by thee i mean to choose a wife. tube, thy _color_ let me find, in her _skin_, and in her _mind_. let her have a _shape_ as fine; let her breath be sweet as thine; let her, when her lips i kiss, _burn_ like thee, to give me bliss; let her, in some _smoke_ or other, all my failings kindly smother. often when my thoughts are _low_, send them where they ought to go; when to study i incline, let her aid be such as thine; such as thine the charming power in the vacant social hour. let her live to give delight, ever _warm_ and ever _bright_; let her deeds, whene'er she dies, mount as incense to the skies. _gentleman's magazine_. my three loves. when life was all a summer day, and i was under twenty, three loves were scattered in my way-- and three at once are plenty. three hearts, if offered with a grace, one thinks not of refusing; the task in this especial case was only that of choosing. i knew not which to make my pet,-- my pipe, cigar, or cigarette. to cheer my night or glad my day my pipe was ever willing; the meerschaum or the lowly clay alike repaid the filling. grown men delight in blowing clouds, as boys in blowing bubbles, our cares to puff away in crowds and vanish all our troubles. my pipe i nearly made my pet, above cigar or cigarette. a tiny paper, tightly rolled about some latakia, contains within its magic fold a mighty _panacea_. some thought of sorrow or of strife at ev'ry whiff will vanish; and all the scenery of life turn picturesquely spanish. but still i could not quite forget cigar and pipe for cigarette. to yield an after-dinner puff o'er _demi-tasse_ and brandy, no cigarettes are strong enough, no pipes are ever handy. however fine may be the feed, it only moves my laughter unless a dry delicious weed appears a little after. a prime cigar i firmly set above a pipe or cigarette. but after all i try in vain to fetter my opinion; since each upon my giddy brain has boasted a dominion. comparisons i'll not provoke, lest _all_ should be offended. let this discussion end in smoke as many more have ended. and each i'll make a special pet; my pipe, cigar, and cigarette. henry s. leigh. smoke is the food of lovers. when cupid open'd shop, the trade he chose was just the very one you might suppose. love keep a shop?--his trade, oh! quickly name! a dealer in tobacco--fie, for shame! no less than true, and set aside all joke, from oldest time he ever dealt in smoke; than smoke, no other thing he sold, or made; smoke all the substance of his stock in trade; his capital all smoke, smoke all his store, 'twas nothing else; but lovers ask no more-- and thousands enter daily at his door! hence it was ever, and it e'er will be the trade most suited to his faculty: fed by the vapors of their heart's desire, no other food his votaries require; for that they seek--the favor of the fair-- is unsubstantial as the smoke and air. jacob cats: _moral emblems_. clouds. mortals say their heart is light when the clouds around disperse; clouds to gather, thick as night, is the smoker's universe. _from the german of bauernfeld_. in favor of tobacco. much victuals serves for gluttony to fatten men like swine; but he's a frugal man indeed that with a leaf can dine, and needs no napkin for his hands, his fingers' ends to wipe, but keeps his kitchen in a box, and roast meat in a pipe. samuel rowlands: _knave of clubs_ ( ). my cigarette. _words and music by richard barnard_. to my sweet cigarette i am singing this joyous and bright bacca-role; just now to my lips she was clinging, her spirit was soothing my soul. with figure so slender and dapper i feel the soft touch of it yet, adorned in her dainty white wrapper, how fair is my own cigarette! 'twere better, perhaps, that we part, love; 'twere better, if never we'd met. alas, you are part of my heart, love, destructive but sweet cigarette! though matchless, by matches she's fired, and glows both with pleasure and pride; by her soft, balmy breath i'm inspired, and kiss and caress my new bride. e'en the clouds of her nature are joyous, though other clouds cause us regret; from worry and care they decoy us, the clouds of a sweet cigarette. 'twere better, etc. the houris in paradise living dissolve in the first love embrace, their life to their love freely giving,-- and so with my love 'tis the case; for when her life's last spark is flying, still sweet to the end is my pet, who helps me, although she is dying, to light up a fresh cigarette! 'twere better, etc. the ballade of tobacco. when verdant youth sees life afar, and first sets out wild oats to sow, he puffs a stiff and stark cigar, and quaffs champagne of mumm & co. he likes not smoking yet; but though tobacco makes him sick indeed, cigars and wine he can't forego,-- a slave is each man to the weed. in time his tastes more dainty are and delicate. become a beau, from out the country of the czar he brings his cigarettes, and lo! he sips the vintage of bordeaux. thus keener relish shall succeed the baser liking we outgrow,-- a slave is each man to the weed when age and his own lucky star to him perfected wisdom show, the schooner glides across the bar, and beer for him shall freely flow; a pipe with genial warmth shall glow, to which he turns in direst need, to seek in smoke surcease of woe,-- a slave is each man to the weed. envoi. smokers, who doubt or con or pro, and ye who dare to drink, take heed! and see in smoke a friendly foe,-- a slave is each man to the weed. brander matthews. he respondeth. she. you still persist in using, i observe with great regret, the needlessly expensive cigarette. he. you should set a good example; but you seem to quite forget that you use a thirty-dollar vinaigrette. _life._ to see her pipe awry. betty bouncer kept a stall at the corner of a street, and she had a smile for all. many were the friends she'd greet with kindly nod on passing by, who, smiling, saw her pipe awry. poor old lass! she loved her pipe, a constant friend it seemed to be; as she sold her apples ripe, with an apple on each knee, how she'd make the smoke-wreaths fly, as i've watched her pipe awry! seasons came and seasons went, only changing betty's store; youngsters with her always spent their little all and wished they'd more: timidly with upturned eye staring at her pipe awry. bet was always at her post early morn or even late; ginger beer or chestnut roast, served she as she sat in state, on two bushel-baskets high; you should have seen her pipe awry! little care old betty had, she quietly jogged on her way; never did her face look sad. although she fumed the livelong day. guiltless seemed she of a sigh. i never saw her pipe her eye! c.f. ingin summer. jest about the time when fall gits to rattlin' in the trees, an' the man thet knows it all, 'spicions frost in every breeze, when a person tells hisse'f thet the leaves look mighty thin, then thar blows a meller breaf! ingin summer's hyere agin. kind-uh smoky-lookin' blues spins acrost the mountain-side, an' the heavy mornin' dews greens the grass up far an' wide, natur' raly 'pears as ef she wuz layin' off a day,-- sort-uh drorin in her breaf 'fore she freezes up to stay. nary lick o' work i strike, 'long about this time of year! i'm a sort-uh slowly like, right when ingin summer's here. wife and boys kin do the work; but a man with natchel wit, like i got, kin 'ford to shirk, ef he has a turn for it. time when grapes set in to ripe, all i ast off any man is a common co'n-cob pipe with terbacker to my han'; then jest loose me whar the air simmers 'crost me, wahm an' free! promised lands ull find me thar; wings ull fahly sprout on me! i'm a loungin' 'round on thrones, bossin' worlds f'om shore to shore, when i stretch my marrer-bones jest outside the cabin door! an' the sunshine peepin' down on my old head, bald an' gray, 'pears right like the gilted crown, i expect to w'ar some day. eva wilder mcglasson. edifying reflections of a tobacco-smoker. _set to music by johann sebastian bach. author unknown. translated by edward breck._ as oft i fill my faithful pipe, to while away the moments glad, with fragrant leaves, so rich and ripe, my mind perceives an image sad, so that i can but clearly see how very like it is to me. my pipe is made of earth and clay, from which my mortal part is wrought; i, too, must turn to earth some day. it often falls, as quick as thought, and breaks in two,--puts out its flame; my fate, alas! is but the same! my pipe i color not, nor paint; white it remains, and hence 'tis true that, when in death's cold arms i faint, my lips shall wear the ashen hue; and as it blackens day by day, so black the grave shall turn my clay! and when the pipe is put alight the smoke ascends, then trembles, wanes, and soon dissolves in sunshine bright, and but the whitened ash remains. 'tis so man's glory crumble must, e'en as his body, into dust! how oft the filler is mislaid; and, rather than to seek in vain, i use my finger in its stead, and fancy as i feel the pain, if coals can burn to such degree, how hot, o lord, must hades be! so in tobacco oft i find, lessons of such instructive type; and hence with calm, contented mind i live, and smoke my faithful pipe in reverence where'er i roam,-- on land, on water, and at home. the lost lotus. 'tis said that in the sun-embroidered east, there dwelt a race whose softly flowing hours passed like the vision of a royal feast, by nero given in the baian bowers; thanks to the lotus-blossom spell, their lives were one long miracle. in after years the passing sons of men looked for those lotus blossoms all in vain, through every hillside, glade, and glen and e'en the isles of many a main; yet through the centuries some doom, forbade them see the lotus bloom. the old world wearied of the long pursuit, and called the sacred leaf a poet's theme, when lo! the new world, rich in flower and fruit, revealed the lotus, lovelier than the dream that races of the long past days did haunt,-- the green-leaved, amber-tipped tobacco plant. anon. the scent of a good cigar. what is it comes through the deepening dusk,-- something sweeter than jasmine scent, sweeter than rose and violet blent, more potent in power than orange or musk? the scent of a good cigar. i am all alone in my quiet room, and the windows are open wide and free to let in the south wind's kiss for me, while i rock in the softly gathering gloom, and that subtle fragrance steals. just as a loving, tender hand will sometimes steal in yours, it softly comes through the open doors, and memory wakes at its command,-- the scent of that good cigar. and what does it say? ah! that's for me and my heart alone to know; but that heart thrills with a sudden glow, tears fill my eyes till i cannot see,-- from the scent of that good cigar. kate a. carrington. to my cigar. yes, social friend, i love thee well, in learned doctor's spite; thy clouds all other clouds dispel, and lap me in delight. what though they tell, with phizzes long, my years are sooner past! i would reply with reason strong, they're sweeter while they last. when in the lonely evening hour, attended but by thee, o'er history's varied page i pore, man's fate in thine i see. oft as the snowy column grows, then breaks and falls away, i trace how mighty realms thus rose, thus tumbled to decay. awhile like thee earth's masters burn and smoke and fume around; and then, like thee, to ashes turn, and mingle with the ground. life's but a leaf adroitly rolled, and time's the wasting breath that, late or early, we behold gives all to dusty death. from beggar's frieze to monarch's robe, one common doom is passed; sweet nature's works, the swelling globe, must all burn out at last. and what is he who smokes thee now? a little moving heap, that soon, like thee, to fate must bow, with thee in dust must sleep. but though thy ashes downward go, thy essence rolls on high; thus, when my body lieth low, my soul shall cleave the sky. charles sprague. knickerbocker. shade of herrick, muse of locker, help me sing of knickerbocker! boughton, had you bid me chant hymns to peter stuyvesant, had you bid me sing of wouter, he, the onion head, the doubter! but to rhyme of this one--mocker! who shall rhyme to knickerbocker? nay, but where my hand must fail, there the more shall yours avail; you shall take your brush and paint all that ring of figures quaint,-- all those rip van winkle jokers, all those solid-looking smokers, pulling at their pipes of amber, in the dark-beamed council chamber. only art like yours can touch shapes so dignified--and dutch; only art like yours can show how the pine logs gleam and glow, till the firelight laughs and passes 'twixt the tankards and the glasses, touching with responsive graces all those grave batavian faces, making bland and beatific all that session soporific. then i come and write beneath: boughton, he deserves the wreath; he can give us form and hue-- this the muse can never do! austin dobson. the discovery of tobacco. _a sailor's version_. they were three jolly sailors bold, who sailed across the sea; they'd braved the storm, and stood the gale, and got to virgin-ee. the discovery of tobacco. 'twas in the days of good queen bess,-- or p'raps a bit before,-- and now these here three sailors bold went cruising on the shore. a lurch to starboard, one to port, now forrard, boys, go we, with a haul and a "ho!" and a "that's your sort!" to find out tobac-kee. says jack, "this here's a rummy land." says tom, "well, shiver me! the sun shines out as precious hot as ever i did see." says dick, "messmates, since here we be,"-- and gave his eye a wink,-- "we've come to find out tobac-kee, which means a drop to drink." says jack, says he, "the injins think--" says tom, "i'll swear as they don't think at all." says dick, "you're right; it ain't their nat'ral way. but i want to find out, my lads, this stuff of which they tell; for if as it ain't meant to drink, why, it must be meant to smell." says tom, says he, "to drink or smell, i don't think this here's meant." says jack, says he, "blame my old eyes, if i'll believe it's scent." "well, then," says dick, "if that ain't square, it must be meant for meat; so come along, my jovial mates, to find what's good to eat." they came across a great big plant, a-growing tall and true. says jack, says he, "i'm precious dry," and picked a leaf to chew. while tom takes up a sun-dried bit, a-lying by the trees; he rubs it in his hands to dust and then begins to sneeze. another leaf picks nimble dick, and dries it in the sun, and rolls it up all neat and tight. "my lads," says he, in fun, "i mean to cook this precious weed." and then from out his poke with burning-glass he lights the end, and quick blows up the smoke. says jack, says he, "of paradise i've heerd some people tell." says tom, says he, "this here will do; let's have another smell." says dick, his face all pleasant smiles, a-looking through a cloud, "it strikes me here's the cap'en bold, and now we'll all be rowed." up comes brave hawkins on the beach; "shiver my hull!" he cries, "what's these here games, my merry men?" and then, "why, blame my eyes! here's one as chaws, and one as snuffs, and t' other of the three is smoking like a chimbley-pot-- they've found out tobac-kee!" so if ever you should hear of raleigh, and them lies about his sarvant and his pipe and him as "fire!" cries, you say as 'twas three sailors bold as sailed to virgin-ee in brave old hawkins' gallant ship who found out tobac-kee. a lurch to starboard, one to port, now forrard, boys, go we, with a haul and a "ho!" and a "that's your sort!" to find out tobac-kee. _cigar and tobacco world_, london. "keats took snuff." "keats took snuff.... it has been established by the praise-worthy editorial research of mr. burton forman." so "keats took snuff?" a few more years, when we are dead and famous--eh? will they record our pipes and beers, and if we smoked cigars or clay? or will the world cry "quantum suff" to tattle such as "keats took snuff"? perhaps some chronicler would wish to know what whiskey we preferred, and if we ever dined on fish, or only took the joint and bird. such facts are quite as worthy stuff, good chronicler, as "keats took snuff." you answer: "but, if you were keats--" tut! never mind your buts and ifs, of little men record their meats, their drinks, their troubles, and their tiffs, of the great dead there's gold enough to spare us such as "keats took snuff." well, go your ways, you little folk, who polish up the great folk's lives; record the follies that they spoke, and paint their squabbles with their wives. somewhere, if ever ghosts be gruff, i trust some keats will "give you snuff." _the globe_, london. the ballad of the pipe. oh, give me but virginia's weed, an earthen bowl, a stem of reed, what care i for the weather? though winter freeze and summer broil we rest us from our days of toil my pipe and i together! like to a priest of sacred fane, i nightly light the glow again with reverence and pleasure; for through this plain and modest bowl i coax sweet mem'ry to my soul and many trippings measure! there's comfort in each puff of smoke, defiance to ill-fortune's stroke and happiness forever! there grows a volume full of thought and humor, than the book you bought holds nothing half so clever! the summer fragrance, all pent up among the leaves, is here sent up in dreams of summer glory; and these blue clouds that slowly rise were colored by the summer skies, and tell a summer story. and oh! the happiest, sweetest times come ringing all their silver chimes of merry songs and laughter; and all that may be well and worth for mother future to bring forth i do imagine after. what care i if my poor means clad not my walls with splendid scenes and pictures by the masters; here in the curling smoke-wreath glow bold hills and lovely vales below, and brooks with nodding asters. all that on earth is fair and fine, this fragrant magic makes it mine, and gives me sole dominion; and if you call me fanciful, i only take a stronger pull, and laugh at your opinion. let others fret and fume with care, 'tis easy finding everywhere, but happiness is rarer; and if i find it sweet and ripe, in this tobacco and my pipe, i'll count it all the fairer. then give me but virginia's weed, an earthen bowl, a stem of reed, what care i for the weather? though winter freeze, or summer broil we rest us from the days of toil, my pipe and i together. hermann rave. the old clay pipe. there's a lot of solid comfort in an old clay pipe, i find, if you're kind of out of humor or in trouble in your mind. when you're feeling awful lonesome and don't know just what to do, there's a heap of satisfaction if you smoke a pipe or two. the ten thousand pleasant memories that are buried in your soul are playing hide and seek with you around that smoking bowl. these are mighty restful moments: you're at peace with all the world, and the panorama changes as the thin blue smoke is curled. now you cross the bridge of sorrows, now you enter pleasant lands, and before an open doorway, you will linger to shake hands with a lithe and girlish figure that is coming through the door; ah! you recognize the features: you have seen that face before. you are at the dear old homestead where you spent those happy years; you are romping with the children; you are smiling through your tears; you have fought and whipped the bully you are eight and he is ten. oh! how rapidly we travel,-- you are now a boy again. you approach the open doorway, and before the old armchair you will stop and kiss the grandma, you will smooth the thin white hair; you will read the open bible, for the lamp is lit, you see. it is now your hour for bed-time and you kneel at mother's knee. still you linger at the hearthstone; you are loath to leave the place. when an apple cut's in progress: you must wait and dance with grace. what's the matter with the music? only this: the pipe is broke, and a thousand pleasant fancies vanish promptly with the smoke. a.b. van fleet. pernicious weed! the pipe, with solemn interposing puff, makes half a sentence at a time enough; the dozing sages drop the drowsy strain, then pause and puff, and speak, and pause again. such often, like the tube they so admire, important triflers! have more smoke than fire. pernicious weed! whose scent the fair annoys, unfriendly to society's chief joys, thy worst effect is banishing for hours the sex whose presence civilizes ours. william cowper. two other hearts. full tender beamed the light of love down from his manly face, as he pressed her to his bosom in a fervent, fond embrace. no cost of others' happiness found place within his thought; the weakness of life's brittle thread no dim forebodings brought. but tenderer than the light of love, more brittle than life's thread, the shrouds that wrapped two other hearts gave up their withered dead; for, crumbling in his waistcoat, their glowing future dashed, two excellent havanas were very badly smashed. _london tobacco_. the smoke traveller. when i puff my cigarette, straight i see a spanish girl,-- mantilla, fan, coquettish curl, languid airs and dimpled face, calculating, fatal grace; hear a twittering serenade under lofty balcony played; queen at bull-fight, naught she cares what her agile lover dares; she can love and quick forget. let me but my meerschaum light, i behold a bearded man, built upon capacious plan, sabre-slashed in war or duel, gruff of aspect, but not cruel, metaphysically muddled, with strong beer a little fuddled, slow in love, and deep in books, more sentimental than he looks, swears new friendships every night. let me my chibouk enkindle,-- in a tent i'm quick set down with a bedouin, lean and brown, plotting gain of merchandise, or perchance of robber prize; clumsy camel load upheaving, woman deftly carpet-weaving, meal of dates and bread and salt, while in azure heavenly vault throbbing stars begin to dwindle. glowing coal in clay dudheen carries me to sweet killarney, full of hypocritic blarney,-- huts with babies, pigs, and hens mixed together, bogs and fens, shillalahs, praties, usquebaugh, tenants defying hated law, fair blue eyes with lashes black, eyes black and blue from cudgel-thwack,-- so fair, so foul, is erin green. my nargileh once inflamed, quick appears a turk with turban, girt with guards in palace urban, or in house by summer sea slave-girls dancing languidly, bow-string, sack, and bastinado, black boats darting in the shadow; let things happen as they please, whether well or ill at ease, fate alone is blessed or blamed. with my ancient calumet i can raise a wigwam's smoke, and the copper tribe invoke,-- scalps and wampum, bows and knives, slender maidens, greasy wives, papoose hanging on a tree, chieftains squatting silently, feathers, beads, and hideous paint, medicine-man and wooden-saint,-- forest-framed the vision set. my cigar breeds many forms,-- planter of the rich havana mopping brow with sheer bandanna, russian prince in fur arrayed, paris fop on dress parade, london swell just after dinner, wall street broker--gambling sinner! delver in nevada mine, scotch laird bawling "auld lang syne." thus raleigh's weed my fancy warms. life's review in smoke goes past,-- fickle fortune, stubborn fate, right discovered all too late, beings loved and gone before, beings loved but friends no more, self-reproach and futile sighs, vanity in birth that dies, longing, heart-break, adoration,-- nothing sure in expectation save ash-receiver at the last. irving browne. smoking song. with grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl, as mist from the waterfall given, or the locks that float round beauty's throat in the whispering air of even. _chorus_. then drown the fears of the coming years, and the dread of change before us; the way is sweet to our willing feet, with the smoke-wreaths twining o'er us. as the light beams through the ringlets blue, will hope beam through our sorrow, while the gathering wreath of the smoke we breathe shuts out the fear of to-morrow. a magic charm in the evening calm calls thought from mem'ry's treasure; but clear and bright in the liquid light are the smoke-called dreams of pleasure. then who shall chide, with boasting pride, delights they ne'er have tasted? oh, let them smile while we beguile the hour with joys they've wasted. _college song._ how it once was. right stout and strong the worthy burghers stood, or rather, sat, drank beer in plenty, ate abundant food; for they to ancient customs still were true, and smoked, and smoked, because they surely knew what they were at. william the testy ruled new amsterdam,-- a tall man he,-- whose rule was meant by him to be no sham, but rather like the stern paternal style that sways the city now. he made the while a rough decree. he ordered that the pipes should cease to smoke, from that day on. the people took the order as a joke; they did not think, who smoked from childhood up, that one man such delight would seek to stop, even in fun. but when at last it dawned upon their minds that this was meant, they closed their houses, shut their window blinds, brought forth tobacco from their ample hoard, and to the governor's house with one accord the burghers went. they carried chairs, and sat without a word before his porch, and smoked, and smoked, and not a sound was heard, till kieft came forth to take the morning air, with speech that would have burned them then and there if words could scorch. but they, however savagely he spoke, made no reply. higher and thicker rose the clouds of smoke, and kieft, perceiving that they would be free tried not to put in force his harsh decree, but let it die. _new york sun_. her brother's cigarette. like raven's wings her locks of jet, her soft eyes touched with fond regret, doubt and desire her mind beset, fondling her brother's cigarette. roses with dewy diamonds set, drooped o'er the window's parapet; with grace she turned a match to get, and lit her brother's cigarette. her puffs of smoky violet twined in fantastic silhouette; she blushed, laughed, coughed a little, yet, she smoked her brother's cigarette. her eyes with briny tears were wet, her bang grew limp beneath its net, her brow was gemmed with beaded sweat, and to her bed she went, you bet. anon. in the ol' tobacker patch. i jess kind o' feel so lonesome that i don't know what to do, when i think about them days we used to spend a hoein' out tobacker in th' clearin'--me an' you-- an' a wishin' that the day was at an end. for the dewdrops was a sparklin' on the beeches' tender leaves as we started out a workin' in the morn; an' th' noonday sun was sendin' down a shower of burnin' sheaves when we heard the welcome-soundin' dinner-horn. an' th' shadders round us gathered in a sort of ghostly batch, 'fore we started home from workin' in that ol' tobacker patch. i'm a feelin' mighty lonesome, as i look aroun' to-day, for i see th' change that's taken place since then. all th' hills is brown and faded, for th' woods is cleared away; you an' me has changed from ragged boys to men; you are livin' in th' city that we ust to dream about; i am still a dwellin' here upon the place, but my form is bent an' feeble, which was once so straight and stout, an' there's most a thousand wrinkles on my face. you have made a mint of money; i, perhaps have been your match, but we both enjoyed life better in that ol' tobacker patch. s.q. lapius. mÆcenas bids his friend to dine. i beg you come to-night and dine. a welcome waits you, and sound wine,-- the roederer chilly to a charm, as juno's breath the claret warm, the sherry of an ancient brand. no persian pomp, you understand,-- a soup, a fish, two meats, and then a salad fit for aldermen (when aldermen, alas the days! were really worth their _mayonnaise_); a dish of grapes whose clusters won their bronze in carolinian sun; next, cheese--for you the neufchâtel, a bit of cheshire likes me well; café au lait or coffee black, with kirsch or kümmel or cognac (the german band in irving place by this time purple in the face); cigars and pipes. these being through, friends shall drop in, a very few-- shakespeare and milton, and no more. when these are guests i bolt the door, with "not at home" to any one excepting alfred tennyson. anon. to my meerschaum. there's a charm in the sun-crested hills, in the quivering light of a star, in the flash of a silvery rill, yet to me thou art lovelier far, my meerschaum! there's a love in her witching dark eye, there's a love in her tresses at play, yet her love would be worth not a sigh, if from thee she could lure me away, my meerschaum! let revellers sing of their wine, as they toss it in ecstasy down, but the bowl i call for is thine, with its deepening amber and brown, my meerschaum! for when trouble would bid me despair, i call for a flagon of beer, and puff a defiance to care, till sorrows in smoke disappear, my meerschaum! though mid pleasures unnumbered i whirl, though i traverse the billowy sea, yet the waving and beautiful curl of thy smoke's ever dearer to me, my meerschaum! p.d.r. old pipe of mine. companion of my lonely hours, full many a time 'twixt night and morn thy muse hath roamed through poesy's bowers upon thy fragrant pinions borne. let others seek the bliss that reigns in homage paid at beauty's shrine, we envy not such foolish gains, in sweet content, old pipe of mine. ah! you have been a travelled pipe; but now, of course, you're getting stale, just like myself, and rather ripe; you've had your fill of cakes and ale, and half-forgotten memories, too. and all the pensive thoughts that twine around a past that, _entre nous_, has pleasant been, old pipe of mine. old pipe of mine, for many a year what boon companions we have been! with here a smile and there a tear, how many changes we have seen! how many hearts have ceased to beat, how many eyes have ceased to shine, how many friends will never meet, since first we met, old pipe of mine! though here and there the road was deep, and now and then the rain would fall; we managed every time to keep a sturdy forehead to them all! and even when she left my side, we didn't wait to fret or pine, oh, no; we said the world was wide, and luck would turn, old pipe of mine! cannon song. and it has turned since you and i set out to face the world alone; and, in a garret near the sky, had scarce a crust to call our own, but many a banquet, barmecide; and many a dream of hope divine, lie buried in the moaning tide, that drowns the past, old pipe of mine! but prosing isn't quite the thing, and so, i guess, i'll give it up: just wait a moment while i sing; we'll have another parting cup, and then to bed. the stars are low; yon sickly moon has ceased to shine; so here she goes, and off we go to slumberland, old pipe of mine! john j. gormley. cannon song. come, seniors, come, and fill your pipes, your richest incense raise; let's take a smoke, a parting smoke, for good old by-gone days! _chorus_. for good old by-gone days, we'll smoke for good old by-gone days! we'll take a smoke, a parting smoke, for good old by-gone days! we'll crown the cannon with a cloud, we'll celebrate its praise; recalling _its_ old parting smoke, for good old by-gone days! we'll smoke to these we leave behind in devious college ways; we'll smoke to songs we've sung before, in good old by-gone days. we'll smoke to _alma mater's_ name; she loves the cloud we raise! for well she knows the "biggest guns" are in the coming days! we'll smoke the times, the good old times, when we were called _fire_! their light shall blaze in memory, till the lamp of life expire! then let each smoking pipe be broke,-- hurrah for coming days! we'll take a march, a merry march, to meet the coming days! h.p. peck. tobacco. the indian weed, withered quite, green at noon, cut down at night, shows thy decay; all flesh is hay, thus thinke, then drinke tobacco. the pipe that is so lily-white, shows thee to be a mortal wight; and even such, gone with a touch, thus thinke, then drinke tobacco. and when the smoke ascends on high, thinke thou beholdst the vanity of worldly stuffe, gone with a puffe, thus thinke, then drinke tobacco. and when the pipe grows foul within, think on thy soule defil'd with sin, and then the fire it doth require. thus thinke, then drinke tobacco. the ashes that are left behind, may serve to put thee still in mind, that unto dust return thou must. thus thinke, then drinke tobacco. george wither, . virginia's kingly plant. _by an "old salt."_ oh, muse! grant me the power (i have the will) to sing how oft in lonely hour, when storms would round me lower, tobacco's proved a king! philanthropists, no doubt with good intentions ripe, their dogmas may put out, and arrogantly shout the evils of the pipe. kind moralists, with tracts, opinions fine may show; produce a thousand facts,-- how ill tobacco acts man's system to o'erthrow. learn'd doctors have employed much patience, time, and skill, to prove tobacco cloyed with acrid alkaloid, with power the nerves to kill. e'en popes have curst the plant; kings bade its use to cease; but all the pontiff's rant and royal james's cant ne'er made its use decrease. teetotalers may stamp and roar at pipes and beer; but place them in a swamp, when nights are dark and damp,-- their tunes would change, i fear. no advocate am i of excess in one or t'other, and ne'er essayed to try in wine to drown a sigh, or a single care to smother. yet, in moderation pure, a glass is well enough; but a troubled heart to cure, kind feelings to insure, give me a cheerful puff. how oft a learn'd divine his sermons will prepare, not by imbibing wine, but 'neath th' influence fine of a pipe of "baccy" rare! how many a pleasing scene, how many a happy joke, how many a satire keen, or problem sharp, has been evolved or born of smoke! how oft amidst the jar, of storms on ruin bent, on shipboard, near or far, to the drenched and shiv'ring tar, tobacco's solace lent! oh, tell me not 'tis bad, or that it shortens life! its charms can soothe the sad, and make the wretched glad, in trouble and in strife. 'tis used in every clime, by all men, high and low; it is praised in prose and rhyme, and can but end with time; so let the kind herb grow! 'tis a friend to the distress'd; 'tis a comforter in need; it is social, soothing, blest; it has fragrance, force, and zest; then hail the kingly weed! anon. too great a sacrifice. the maid, as by the papers doth appear, whom fifty thousand dollars made so dear, to test lothario's passion, simply said, "forego the weed before we go to wed. for smoke, take flame; i'll be that flame's bright fanner. to have your anna, give up your havana." but he, when thus she brought him to the scratch, lit his cigar, and threw away his match. anon. to a pipe of tobacco. come, lovely tube, by friendship blest, belov'd and honored by the wise, come filled with honest "weekly's best," and kindled from the lofty skies. while round me clouds of incense roll, with guiltless joys you charm the sense, and nobler pleasure to the soul in hints of moral truth dispense. soon as you feel th' enliv'ning ray, to dust you hasten to return, and teach me that my earliest day began to give me to the urn. but though thy grosser substance sink to dust, thy purer part aspires; this when i see, i joy to think that earth but half of me requires. like thee, myself am born to die, made half to rise, and half to fall. oh, could i, while my moments fly, the bliss you give me give to all! _gentleman's magazine_, july, . in the smoke of my dear cigarito cloud castles rise gorgeous and tall; and eros, divine muchachito, with smiles hovers over it all. but dreaming, forgetting to cherish the fire at my lips as it dies, the dream and the rapture must perish, and eros descend from the skies. o wicked and false muchachito, your rapture i yet may recall; but, like my re-lit cigarito, a bitterness tinges it all. camilla k. von k. a good cigar. oh, 'tis well and enough, a whiff or a puff from the heart of a pipe to get; and a dainty maid or a budding blade may toy with the cigarette; but a man, when the time of a glorious prime dawns forth like a morning star, wants the dark-brown bloom and the sweet perfume that go with a good cigar. to lazily float in a painted boat on a shimmering morning sea, or to flirt with a maid in the afternoon shade seems good enough sport to be; but the evening hour, with its subtle power, is sweeter and better far, if joined to the joy, devoid of alloy, that lurks in a good cigar. when a blanket wet is solidly set o'er hopes prematurely grown; when ambition is tame, and energy lame, and the bloom from the fruit is blown; when to dance and to dine with women and wine past poverty pleasures are,-- a man's not bereft of all peace, if there's left the joy of a good cigar. norris bull. a glass is good, and a lass is good, and a pipe to smoke in cold weather; the world is good, and the people are good, and we're all good fellows together. john o'keefe: _sprigs of laurel_, act ii. sc. i. my friendly pipe. let sybarites still dream delights while smoking cigarettes, whose opiates get in their pates till waking brings regrets; oh, let them doze, devoid of woes, of troubles, and of frets. and let the chap who loves to nap with his cigar in hand pursue his way, and live his day, as runs time's changing sand; let him delight by day and night in his peculiar brand. but as for me, i love to be provided with a pipe,-- a rare old bowl to warm my soul, a meerschaum brown and ripe,-- with good plug cut, no stump or butt, nor filthy gutter-snipe. my joys increase! it brings me peace as nothing else can do; from all the strife of daily life here my relief is true. i watch its rings; it purrs and sings-- and then it's cheaper, too! _detroit tribune_. ode to tobacco. come then, tobacco, new-found friend, come, and thy suppliant attend in each dull, lonely hour; and though misfortunes lie around, thicker than hailstones on the ground, i'll rest upon thy power. then while the coxcomb, pert and proud, the politician, learned and loud, keep one eternal clack, i'll tread where silent nature smiles, where solitude our woe beguiles, and chew thee, dear tobac. daniel webster. a bachelor's soliloquy. i sit all alone with my pipe by the fire, i ne'er knew the benedict's yoke; i worship a fairy-like, fanciful form, that goes up the chimney in smoke. i sit in my dressing-gowned slipperful ease, without wife or bairns to provoke, and puff at my pipe, while my hopes and my fears all go up the chimney in smoke. i sit with my pipe, and my heart's lonesome care i try, but all vainly, to choke. ah, me! but i find that the flame that love lights won't go up the chimney in smoke. _cigar and tobacco world_, london. the dreamer's pipe. meerschaum, thing with amber tip, clutched between the dreamer's lip, fragrant odors from thy bowl mingling with the dreamer's soul; curling wreaths of smoke ascending, comfort sweet with incense blending. joy and peace and solace sending to the dreamer's heart. fashioned like a satyr's head, crowned with fire, glowing red, quaintly carved and softly sleek as afric maiden's downy cheek. comrade of each idle hour in forest shade or leafy bower; lotus-eaters from thy power ne'er can break apart. darkly colored from long use with tobacco's balmy juice from snowy white to ebon turned by the incense daily burned. laid at night within thy case of velvet soft--thy resting place-- whence with leering, stained face daily thou must start,-- to soothe the dreamer's every care, to glow and burn and fill the air with thy curling perfume rare: as thou charmest gloom away, with the dreamer rest for aye friend of youth, and manhood ripe all hail to thee, thou meerschaum pipe! _new orleans times democrat._ sublime tobacco. but here the herald of the self-same mouth came breathing o'er the aromatic south, not like a "bed of violets" on the gale, but such as wafts its cloud o'er grog or ale, borne from a short, frail pipe, which yet had blown its gentle odors over either zone, and, puff'd where'er minds rise or waters roll, had wafted smoke from portsmouth to the pole, opposed its vapor as the lightning flash'd, and reek'd, 'midst mountain billows unabashed, to Æolus a constant sacrifice, through every change of all the varying skies. and what was he who bore it? i may err, but deem him sailor or philosopher. sublime tobacco! which from east to west cheers the tar's labor or the turkman's rest; which on the moslem's ottoman divides his hours, and rivals opiums and his brides; magnificent in stamboul, but less grand, though not less loved, in wapping on the strand; divine in hookas, glorious in a pipe, when tipp'd with amber, mellow, rich, and ripe; like other charmers, wooing the caress more dazzlingly when daring in full dress; yet thy true lovers more admire by far thy naked beauties,--give me a cigar! lord byron: _the island, canto ii., stanza ._ smoking away. floating away like the fountains' spray, or the snow-white plume of a maiden, the smoke-wreaths rise to the starlit skies with blissful fragrance laden. _chorus._ then smoke away till a golden ray lights up the dawn of the morrow, for a cheerful cigar, like a shield, will bar, the blows of care and sorrow. the leaf burns bright, like the gems of light that flash in the braids of beauty; it nerves each heart for the hero's part on the battle-plain of duty. in the thoughtful gloom of his darkened room, sits the child of song and story, but his heart is light, for his pipe burns bright, and his dreams are all of glory. by the blazing fire sits the gray-haired sire, and infant arras surround him; and he smiles on all in that quaint old hall, while the smoke-curls float around him. in the forest grand of our native land, when the savage conflict ended, the "pipe of peace" brought a sweet release from toil and terror blended. the dark-eyed train of the maids of spain 'neath their arbor shades trip lightly, and a gleaming cigar, like a new-born star, in the clasp of their lips burns brightly it warms the soul like the blushing bowl, with its rose-red burden streaming, and drowns it in bliss, like the first warm kiss from the lips with love-buds teeming. francis miles finch. a farewell to tobacco. may the babylonish curse straight confound my stammering verse if i can a passage see in this word-perplexity, or a fit expression find, or a language to my mind (still the phrase is wide or scant), to take leave of thee, great plant! or in any terms relate half my love, or half my hate: for i hate, yet love, thee so, that, whichever thing i show, the plain truth will seem to be a constrain'd hyperbole, and the passion to proceed more from a mistress than a weed. sooty retainer to the vine, bacchus' black servant, negro fine; sorcerer, that mak'st us dote upon thy begrimed complexion, and, for thy pernicious sake, more and greater oaths to break than reclaimed lovers take 'gainst women: thou thy siege dost lay much too in the female way, while thou suck'st the lab'ring breath faster than kisses or than death. thou in such a cloud dost bind us, that our worst foes cannot find us, and ill-fortune, that would thwart us, shoots at rovers, shooting at us; while each man, through thy height'ning steam does like a smoking etna seem, and all about us does express (fancy and wit in richest dress) a sicilian fruitfulness. thou through such a mist dost show us, that our best friends do not know us, and, for those allowèd features, due to reasonable creatures, liken'st us to fell chimeras, monsters that, who see us, fear us; worse than cerberus or geryon, or, who first loved a cloud, ixion. bacchus we know, and we allow his tipsy rites. but what art thou, that but by reflex canst show what his deity can do, as the false egyptian spell aped the true hebrew miracle, some few vapors thou mayst raise the weak brain may serve to amaze, but to the reins and nobler heart canst nor life nor heat impart. brother of bacchus, later born, the old world was sure forlorn wanting thee, that aidest more the god's victories than before all his panthers, and the brawls of his piping bacchanals. these, as stale, we disallow, or judge of _thee_ meant; only thou his true indian conquest art; and for ivy round his dart the reformed god now weaves a finer thyrsus of thy leaves. scent to match thy rich perfume chemic art did ne'er presume, through her quaint alembic strain, none so sov'reign to the brain. nature, that did in thee excel, framed again no second smell. roses, violets, but toys for the smaller sort of boys, or for greener damsels meant; thou art the only manly scent. stinking'st of the stinking kind, filth of the mouth and fog of the mind, africa, that brags her foison, breeds no such prodigious poison, henbane, nightshade, both together, hemlock, aconite-- nay, rather, plant divine, of rarest virtue; blisters on the tongue would hurt you. 'twas but in a sort i blamed thee; none e'er prosper'd who defamed thee; irony all, and feign'd abuse, such as perplex'd lovers use at a need when, in despair to paint forth their fairest fair, or in part but to express that exceeding comeliness which their fancies doth so strike, they borrow language of dislike; and, instead of dearest miss, jewel, honey, sweetheart, bliss, and those forms of old admiring, call her cockatrice and siren, basilisk, and all that's evil, witch, hyena, mermaid, devil, ethiop, wench, and blackamore, monkey, ape, and twenty more, friendly trait'ress, loving foe,-- not that she is truly so, but no other way they know a contentment to express, borders so upon excess that they do not rightly wot whether it be pain or not. or as men, constrain'd to part with what's nearest to their heart. while their sorrow's at the height lose discrimination quite, and their hasty wrath let fall, to appease their frantic gall, on the darling thing whatever whence they feel it death to sever, though it be, as they, perforce, guiltless of the sad divorce. for i must (nor let it grieve thee, friendliest of plants, that i must) leave thee. for thy sake, tobacco, i would do anything but die, and but seek to extend my days long enough to sing thy praise. but as she who once hath been a king's consort is a queen ever after, nor will bate any tittle of her state, though a widow or divorced, so i, from thy converse forced, the old name and style retain, a right katherine of spain; and a seat, too, 'mongst the joys of the blest tobacco boys, where, though i by sour physician am debarr'd the full fruition of thy favors, i may catch some collateral sweets, and snatch sidelong odors, that give life like glances from a neighbor's wife, and still live in the by-places and the suburbs of thy graces, and in thy borders take delight, an unconquer'd canaanite. charles lamb. a winter evening hymn to my fire. nicotia, dearer to the muse than all the grape's bewildering juice, we worship, unforbid of thee; and as her incense floats and curls in airy spires and wayward whirls, or poises on its tremulous stalk a flower of frailest reverie, so winds and loiters, idly free, the current of unguided talk, now laughter-rippled, and now caught in smooth dark pools of deeper thought meanwhile thou mellowest every word, a sweetly unobtrusive third; for thou hast magic beyond wine to unlock natures each to each; the unspoken thought thou canst divine; thou fill'st the pauses of the speech with whispers that to dreamland reach, and frozen fancy-springs unchain in arctic outskirts of the brain. sun of all inmost confidences, to thy rays doth the heart unclose its formal calyx of pretences, that close against rude day's offences, and open its shy midnight rose! james russell lowell. my pipe and i. there may be comrades in this world, as stanch and true as steel. there are: and by their friendships firm is life made only real. but, after all, of all these hearts that close with mine entwine, none lie so near, nor seem so dear as this old pipe of mine. my silent friend--whose voice is held fast for my ear alone-- stays with me always, well content, with darby to be joan. no fickleness disturbs our lot; no jars its peace to smother; ah, no; my faithful pipe and i have wooed and won--each other. on clouds of curling incense sweet, we go--my pipe and i-- to lands far off, where skies stay blue through all the years that fly. and nights and days, with rosy dreams teems bright--an endless throng that passing leave, in echoing wake, soft murmurings of song. does this dream fade? another comes to fill its place and more. in castles silvern roam we now, they're ours! all! all are ours! what'er the wreathing rings enfold drops shimmering golden showers! no sordid cost our steps can stay, we travel free as air. our wings are fancies, incense-borne, that feather-light upbear. begone! ye powers of steam and flood. thy roads creep far too slow; we need thee not. my pipe and i swifter than time must go. why, what is this? the pipe gone out? well, well, the fire's out, too! the dreams are gone--we're poor once more; life's pain begins anew. 'tis time for sleep, my faithful pipe, but may thy dreamings be, through slumbering hours hued as bright as those thou gav'st to me! elton j. buckley. sic transit. just a note that i found on my table, by the bills of a year buried o'er, in a feminine hand and requesting my presence for tennis at four. half remorseful for leaving it lying in surroundings unworthy as those, i carefully dusted and smoothed it, and mutely begged pardon of rose. but i thought with a smile of the proverb which says you may treat as you will the vase which has once contained roses, their fragrance will cling to it still. for the writer i scarcely remember, the occasion has vanished afar, and the fragrance that clings to the letter recalls--an havana cigar. w.b. anderson. the betrothed. "_you must choose between me and your cigar._" open the old cigar-box, get me a cuba stout, for things are running crossways, and maggie and i are out. we quarrelled about havanas--we fought o'er a good cheroot, and i know she is exacting, and she says i am a brute. open the old cigar-box--let me consider a space; in the soft blue veil of the vapor, musing on maggie's face. maggie is pretty to look at,--maggie's a loving lass, but the prettiest cheeks must wrinkle, the truest of loves must pass. there's peace in a laranaga, there's calm in a henry clay, but the best cigar in an hour is finished and thrown away,-- thrown away for another as perfect and ripe and brown,-- but i could not throw away maggie for fear o' the talk o' the town! maggie my wife at fifty,--gray and dour and old,-- with never another maggie to purchase for love or gold! and the light of days that have been the dark of the days that are, and love's torch stinking and stale, like the butt of a dead cigar,-- the butt of a dead cigar you are bound to keep in your pocket,-- with never a new one to light tho' it's charred and black to the socket. open the old cigar-box,--let me consider a while,-- here is a mild manilla,--there is a wifely smile. which is the better portion,--bondage bought with a ring, or a harem of dusky beauties, fifty tied in a string? counsellors cunning and silent--comforters true and tried, and never a one of the fifty to sneer at a rival bride. thought in the early morning, solace in time of woes, peace in the hush of the twilight, balm ere my eyelids close. this will the fifty give me, asking nought in return, with only a _suttee's_ passion,--to do their duty and burn. this will the fifty give me. when they are spent and dead, five times other fifties shall be my servants instead. the furrows of far-off java, the isles of the spanish main, when they hear my harem is empty, will send me my brides again. i will take no heed to their raiment, nor food for their mouths withal, so long as the gulls are nesting, so long as the showers fall. i will scent 'em with best vanilla, with tea will i temper their hides, and the moor and the mormon shall envy, who read of the tale of my brides. for maggie has written a letter to give me my choice between the wee little whimpering love and the great god nick o' teen. and i have been servant of love for barely a twelve-month clear. but i have been priest of partagas a matter of seven year; and the gloom of my bachelor days is flecked with the cheery light of stumps that i burned to friendship and pleasure and work and fight. and i turn my eyes to the future that maggie and i must prove, but the only light on the marshes is the will-o'-the-wisp of love. will it see me safe through my journey, or leave me bogged in the mire? since a puff of tobacco can cloud it, shall i follow the fitful fire? open the old cigar-box,--let me consider anew,-- old friends, and who is maggie that i should abandon _you_? a million surplus maggies are willing to bear the yoke; and a woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a smoke. light me another cuba: i hold to my first-sworn vows, if maggie will have no rival, i'll have no maggie for spouse! rudyard kipling. on a broken pipe. neglected now it lies, a cold clay form, so late with living inspirations warm; type of all other creatures formed of clay-- what more than it for epitaph have they? a valentine. what's my love's name? guess her name. nina? no. alina? no. it does end with "ina," though. guess again. christina? no; guess again. wilhelmina? no. she reciprocates my flame, cheers me wheresoe'er i go, never forward, never coy, she is evermore my joy. oh, the rapture! oh, the bliss! when i met my darling's kiss. oh, i love her form to greet! oh, her breath is passing sweet! who could help but love her so? nicotina, mistress mine, thou shall be my valentine. anon. my cigarette. my cigarette! the amulet that charms afar unrest and sorrow, the magic wand that, far beyond to-day, can conjure up to-morrow. like love's desire, thy crown of fire so softly with the twilight blending; and ah, meseems a poet's dreams are in thy wreaths of smoke ascending. my cigarette! can i forget how kate and i, in sunny weather, sat in the shade the elm-tree made and rolled the fragrant weed together? i at her side, beatified to hold and guide her fingers willing; she rolling slow the papers snow, putting my heart in with the filling. my cigarette! i see her yet, the white smoke from her red lips curling, her dreaming eyes, her soft replies, her gentle sighs, her laughter purling! ah, dainty roll, whose parting soul ebbs out in many a snowy billow, i too would burn, if i could earn upon her lips so soft a pillow. ah, cigarette! the gay coquette has long forgot the flame she lighted; and you and i unthinking by alike are thrown, alike are slighted. the darkness gathers fast without, a raindrop on my window plashes; my cigarette and heart are out, and naught is left me but the ashes. charles f. lummis. the pipe critic. say, pipe, let's talk of love; canst aid me? by my life, i'll ask not gods above to help me choose a wife; but to thy gentle self i'll give the puzzling strife. thy color let me find, and blue like smoke her eyes; a healthy store her mind as that which in thee lies,-- an evanescent draft, whose incense mounts the skies. and, pipe, a breath like thine; her hair an amber gold, and wrought in shapes as fine as that which now i hold; a grace in every limb, her form thy slender mould. and when her lips i kiss, oh, may she burn like thee, and strive to give me bliss! a comforter to be when friends wax cold, time fades, and all departs from me. and may she hide in smoke, as you, my friend, have done, the failings that would choke my virtues every one, turn grief to laughing jest, or painful thought to fun. her aid be such as thine to stir my brain a bit. when 'round this hearth of mine friends sit and banter wit, she'll shape a well-turned phrase, a subtle jest to hit. in short, my sole delight (why, pipe, you sputter so!), whose angel visage bright (and at me ashes throw!) shall never rival fear. you're jealous now, i know. nay, pipe, i'll not leave thee; for of thy gifts there's one that's passing dear to me whose equal she'd have none,-- the gift of peace serene; she'd have, alas, a tongue! walter littlefield. a song without a name. air: "_the vicar of bray_." 'twas in queen bess's golden days that smoking came in fashion; and from the court it quickly spread throughout the english nation. the courtiers first the lesson learnt, and burn'd the fragrant treasure; and e'en the queen herself, 'tis said, would sometimes share the pleasure. but this is true, i will maintain,-- and i am far from joking,-- of all the pleasures men have found there's none to equal smoking. then learned men and lawyers wise and grave divines and doctors found smoking help'd to clear the brain, and puff'd away in flocks, sirs; then business men and humble clerks and laborer and peasant by smoking care would drive away, and make this life more pleasant. for this is true. i will maintain,-- and i am far from joking,-- of all the pleasures men have found there's none to equal smoking. and from these times we modern men great glory do inherit, and wealth and learning and the strength which makes the english spirit. we have no care, we fear no foe, we pass our lifetime gayly, but little think how much we owe to great sir walter raleigh. for this is true, i will maintain,-- and i am far from joking,-- of all the pleasures men have found there's none to equal smoking. w. lloyd. ad nicotina. "_a constrained hyperbole._" let others sing the praise of wine; i'll tolerate no queen but one fair nymph of spotless line, the gentle nicotine. her breath's as sweet as any flower's, no matter where it blows, and makes this dull old world of ours the color of the rose. there's not a pang but she can soothe, nor spell but she can break, and e'en the hardest lot can smooth, and bid us courage take. fair nicotine! thou dost atone for many an aching heart; and i for one will gladly own the magic of thine art. ah, "friendly traitress," "loving foe," forgive this loving lay; for i, thy worshipper, would show the sweetness of thy sway. "sublime tobacco!" may thy reign ne'er for one moment cease; for thou, great plant, art kin to brain, and synonym for peace. e.h.s. meerschaum. come to me, o my meerschaum, for the vile street organs play; and the torture they're inflicting will vanish quite away. i open my study window and into the twilight peer, and my anxious eyes are watching for the man with my evening beer. in one hand is the shining pewter, all amber the ale doth glow; in t'other are long "churchwardens," as spotless and pure as snow. ah! what would the world be to us tobaccoless?--fearful bore! we should dread the day after to-morrow worse than the day before. as the elephant's trunk to the creature, is the pipe to the man, i trow; useful and meditative as the cud to the peaceful cow. so to the world is smoking; through that we feel, with bliss that, whatever worlds come after, a jolly old world is this. come to me, o my meerschaum, and whisper to me here, if you like me better than coffee, than grog, or the bitter beer. oh! what are our biggest winnings, if peaceful content we miss? though fortune may give us an innings she seldom conveys us bliss. you're better than all the fortunes that ever were made or broke; for a penny will always fill and buy me content with a smoke. wrongfellow. i like cigars beneath the stars, upon the waters blue. to laugh and float while rocks the boat upon the waves,--don't you? to rest the oar and float to shore,-- while soft the moonbeams shine,-- to laugh and joke, and idly smoke; i think is quite divine. ella wheeler wilcox. "a free puff." do you remember when first we met? i was turning twenty--well! i don't forget how i walked along, humming a song across the fields and down the lane by the country road, and back again to the dear old farm--three miles or more-- and brought you home from the village store. summer was passing--don't you recall the splendid harvest we had that fall, and how when the autumn died,--sober and brown,-- we trudged down the turnpike, and on to the town? sweet black brierwood pipe of mine! if you were human you'd be half divine, for when i've looked beyond the smoke, into your burning bowl in times of need you've been, indeed, the only comfort, sweetest solace, of my overflowing soul. we've been together nearly thirty years, old fellow! and now, you must admit, we're both a trifle mellow. we have had our share of joys and a deal of sorrows, and while we're only waiting for a few more to-morrows, others will come, and others will go, and time will gather what youth will sow; but we together will go down the rough road to the end, and to the end--puff. arthur irving gray. my meerschaum pipe. old meerschaum pipe, i'll fondly wipe thy scarred and blackened form, for thou to me wilt ever be-- whate'er betides the storm-- a casket filled with memories of life's auroral morn. thou once wert fair like ivory rare; spotless as lily white; thy curving lines, like tendril'd vines, were pleasing to the sight, and in thine ample bowl there lurked a promise of delight. like incense flung from censer swung before some sculptured shrine, to float along with prayer and song to realms of bliss divine,-- ascend thy fragrant wreaths of smoke and with my thoughts entwine. old pipe, old friend, o'er thee doth bend the rainbow hues of life, while sorrows roll across my soul, and peace is turned to strife, and faith drifts o'er a sea of doubt with desolation rife. alas, that man or pipe e'er can wax old or know decay; alas, that heart from heart must part, or love can lose its sway. and death in life should cast its pall athwart the troubled way. tho' love be cross'd, and friends are lost, and severed every tie; tho' hopes are dead and joys have fled, and darkened is the sky; we yet can warm each other's hearts, old meerschaum pipe and i. johnson m. mundy. a warning. he. i loathe all books. i hate to see the world and men through others' eyes; my own are good enough for me. these scribbling fellows i despise; they bore me. i used to try to read a bit, but, when i did, a sleepy fit came o'er me. yet here i sit with pensive look, filling my pipe with fragrant loads, gazing in rapture at a book!-- a free translation of the odes of horace. 'tis owned by sweet elizabeth, and breathes a subtle, fragrant breath of orris. i longed for something that was hers to cheer me when i'm feeling low; i saw this book of paltry verse, and asked to take it home--and so she lent it. i love her deep and tenderly, yet dare not tell my love, lest she resent it. i'll learn to quote a stanza here, a couplet there. i'm very sure 'twould aid my suit could i appear _au fait_ in books and literature. i'll do it! this jingle i can quickly learn; then, hid in roses, i'll return her poet! she. the hateful man! 'twould vex a saint! around my pretty, cherished book, the odor vile, the noisome taint of horrid, stale tobacco-smoke yet lingers! the hateful man, my book to spoil! patrick, the tongs--lest i should soil my fingers! this lovely rose, these lilies frail, these violets he has sent to me the odor of his pipe exhale! am i to blame that i should be enraged? tell mr. simpson every time he calls upon me, patrick, i'm engaged! arthur lovell. to the rev. mr. newton. says the pipe to the snuff-box, "i can't understand what the ladies and gentlemen see in your face, that you are in fashion all over the land, and i am so much fallen into disgrace. "do but see what a pretty contemplative air i give to the company,--pray do but note 'em,-- you would think that the wise men of greece were all there, or, at least, would suppose them the wise men of gotham. "my breath is as sweet as the breath of blown roses, while you are a nuisance where'er you appear; there is nothing but snivelling and blowing of noses, such a noise as turns any man's stomach to hear." then, lifting his lid in a delicate way, and opening his mouth with a smile quite engaging. the box in reply was heard plainly to say, "what a silly dispute is this we are waging! "if you have a little of merit to claim, you may thank the sweet-smelling virginian weed; and i, if i seem to deserve any blame, the before-mentioned drug in apology plead. "thus neither the praise nor the blame is our own, no room for a sneer, much less a cachinnus; we are vehicles, not of tobacco alone, but of anything else they may choose to put in us." wm. cowper. a loss. how hard a thing it is to part from those we love and cherish; how deeply does it pain one's heart to know all things must perish! and when a friend and comrade dear is lost to us forever, we feel how frail are all things here, since e'en best friends must sever. i, too, have lost a friend, who broke its power when care was near me; and troubles disappeared in smoke when he was by to cheer me. but as friends fall when valued most, like fruit that over-ripe is. my loved companion i have lost,-- that friend my meerschaum pipe is! _judy_ ( ). the true leucothoË. let others praise the god of wine, or venus, love, and beauty's smile; i choose a theme not less divine,-- the plant that grows in cuba's isle. the old greeks err'd who bound with bays apollo's brow; the verdant crown he wore, when measuring their days, grew in the west, where he went down. an idle tale they also told; they said he gave them frankincense, borne by some tree he loved of old; if so, he gave a mere pretence. for the true offspring of his love-- tobacco--grew far o'er the sea, where leucothoë from above led him as honey leads the bee, till on that plant he paus'd to gaze some moments ere he held his way, and cheer her with his warmest rays, heedless of time or length of day. then with a sigh his brows he wreath'd with leaves that care and toil beguile, and bless'd, as their perfume he breath'd, the plant that grows in cuba's isle. anon. those ashes. up to the frescoed ceiling the smoke of my cigarette in a sinuous spray is reeling, forming flower and minaret. what delicious landscape floating on perfumed wings i see; pale swans i am idly noting, and queens robed in filagree. i see such delicious faces as ne'er man saw before, and my fancy fondly chases sweet maids on a fairy shore. now to bits my air-castle crashes, and those pictures i see no more; my grandmother yells: "them ashes-- don't drop them on the floor!" r.k. munkittrick. what i like. to lie with half-closed eyes, as in a dream, upon the grassy bank of some calm stream-- and smoke. to climb with daring feet some rugged rock, and sit aloft where gulls and curlews flock-- and smoke. to wander lonely on the ocean's brink, and of the good old times to muse and think-- and smoke. to hide me in some deep and woody glen, far from unhealthy haunts of sordid men-- and smoke. to linger in some fairy haunted vale, while all about me falls the moonlight pale-- and smoke. h.l. my meerschaums. long pipes and short ones, straight and curved, high carved and plain, dark-hued and creamy, slim tubes for cigarettes reserved, and stout ones for havanas dreamy. this cricket, on an amber spear impaled, recalls that golden weather when love and i, too young to fear heartburn, smoked cigarettes together. and even now--too old to take the little papered shams for flavor-- i light it oft for her sweet sake who gave it, with her girlish favor. and here's the mighty student bowl whose tutoring in and after college has led me nearer wisdom's goal than all i learned of text-book knowledge. "it taught me?" ay, to hold my tongue, to keep a-light, and yet burn slowly, to break ill spells around me flung as with the enchanted whiff of moly. this nargileh, whose hue betrays perique from soft louisiana, in egypt once beguiled the days of tewfik's dreamy-eyed sultana. speaking of color,--do you know a maid with eyes as darkly splendid as are the hues that, rich and slow, on this hungarian bowl have blended? can artist paint the fiery glints of this quaint finger here beside it, with amber nail,--the lustrous tints, a thousand partagas have dyed it? "and this old silver patched affair?" well, sir, that meerschaum has its reasons for showing marks of time and wear; for in its smoke through fifty seasons my grandsire blew his cares away! and then, when done with life's sojourning, at seventy-five dropped dead one day, that pipe between his set teeth burning! "killed him?" no doubt! it's apt to kill in fifty year's incessant using-- some twenty pipes a day. and still, on that ripe, well-filled, lifetime musing, i envy oft so bright a part,-- to live as long as life's a treasure; to die of--not an aching heart, but--half a century of pleasure! well, well! i'm boring you, no doubt; how these old memories will undo one-- i see you've let your weed go out; that's wrong! here, light yourself a new one! charles f. lummis. ode to tobacco. thou, who when fears attack bidst them avaunt, and black care, at the horseman's back perching, unseatest; sweet when the morn is gray; sweet when they've cleared away lunch; and at close of day possibly sweetest! i have a liking old for thee, though manifold stories, i know, are told not to thy credit: how one (or two at most) drops make a cat a ghost,-- useless, except to roast-- doctors have said it; how they who use fusees all grow by slow degrees brainless as chimpanzees, meagre as lizards, go mad, and beat their wives, plunge (after shocking lives) razors and carving-knives into their gizzards. confound such knavish tricks! yet know i five or six smokers who freely mix still with their neighbors,-- jones, who, i'm glad to say, asked leave of mrs. j., daily absorbs a clay after his labors. cats may have had their goose cooked by tobacco juice; still, why deny its use thoughtfully taken? we're not as tabbies are; smith, take a fresh cigar! jones, the tobacco jar! here's to thee, bacon! c.s. calverly. on receipt of a rare pipe. i lifted off the lid with anxious care, removed the wrappages, stripe after stripe, and when the hidden contents were laid bare, my first remark was: "mercy, what a pipe!" a pipe of symmetry that matched its size, mounted with metal bright,--a sight to see; with the rich amber hue that smokers prize, attesting both its age and pedigree. a pipe to make the royal friedrich jealous, or the great teufelsdröckh with envy gripe! a man should hold some rank above his fellows to justify his smoking such a pipe! what country gave it birth? what blest of cities saw it first kindle at the glowing coal? what happy artist murmured, "nunc dimittis," when he had fashioned this transcendent bowl? has it been hoarded in a monarch's treasures? was it a gift of peace, or prize of war? did the great khalif in his "house of pleasures" wager and lose it to the good zaafar? it may have soothed mild spenser's melancholy, while musing o'er traditions of the past, or graced the lips of brave sir walter raleigh, ere sage king jamie blew his "_counterblast_." did it, safe hidden in some secret cavern, escape that monarch's pipoclastic ken? has shakespeare smoked it at the mermaid tavern, quaffing a cup of sack with rare old ben? ay, shakespeare might have watched his vast creations loom through its smoke,--the spectre-haunted thane, the sisters at their ghostly invocations, the jealous moor, and melancholy dane. round its orbed haze and through its mazy ringlets, titania may have led her elfin rout, or ariel fanned it with his gauzy winglets, or puck danced in the bowl to put it out. vain are all fancies,--questions bring no answer; the smokers vanish, but the pipe remains; he were indeed a subtle necromancer, could read their records in its cloudy stains. nor this alone. its destiny may doom it to outlive e'en its use and history; some ploughman of the future may exhume it from soil now deep beneath the eastern sea. and, treasured by soma antiquarian stultus, it may to gaping visitors be shown labelled: "the symbol of some ancient cultus conjecturally phallic, but unknown." why do i thus recall the ancient quarrel twixt man and time, that marks all earthly things? why labor to re-word the hackneyed moral [greek: hôs phyllôn geneê], as homer sings? '[omega][sigmaf] [phi][upsilon][lambda][lambda][omega][nu] [gamma][epsilon][nu][epsilon][eta], as homer sings? for this: some links we forge are never broken; some feelings claim exemption from decay; and love, of which this pipe is but the token, shall last, though pipes and smokers pass away. w.h.b. my little brown pipe. i have a little comforter, i carry in my pocket: it is not any woman's face set in a golden locket; it is not any kind of purse; it is not book or letter, but yet at times i really think that it is something better. oh, my pipe, my little brown pipe! how oft, at morning early, when vexed with thoughts of coming toil, and just a little surly, i sit with thee till things get clear, and all my plans grow steady, and i can face the strife of life with all my senses steady. no matter if my temper stands at stormy, fair, or clearing, my pipe has not for any mood a word of angry sneering. i always find it just the same, in care, or joy, or sorrow, and what it is to-day i know it's sure to be to-morrow. it helps me through the stress of life; it balances my losses; it adds a charm to all my joys, and lightens all my crosses. for through the wreathing, misty veil joy has a softer splendor, and life grows sweetly possible, and love more truly tender. oh, i have many richer joys! i do not underrate them, and every man knows what i mean, i do not need to state them. but this i say,--i'd rather miss a deal of what's called pleasure, than lose my little comforter, my little smoky treasure. amelia e. barr. forsaken of all comforts but these two,-- my fagot and my pipe--i sit to muse on all my crosses, and almost excuse the heavens for dealing with me as they do. when hope steps in, and, with a smiling brow, such cheerful expectations doth infuse as makes me think ere long i cannot choose but be some grandee, whatsoe'er i'm now. but having spent my pipe, i then perceive that hopes and dreams are cousins,--both deceive. then mark i this conclusion in my mind, it's all one thing,--both tend into one scope,-- to live upon tobacco and on hope: the one's but smoke, the other is but wind. sir robert ayton. 'twas off the blue canaries. 'twas off the blue canary isles, a glorious summer day, i sat upon the quarter deck, and whiffed my cares away; and as the volumed smoke arose, like incense in the air, i breathed a sigh to think, in sooth, it was my last cigar. i leaned upon the quarter rail, and looked down in the sea; e'en there the purple wreath of smoke, was curling gracefully; oh! what had i at such a time to do with wasting care? alas! the trembling tear proclaimed it was my last cigar. i watched the ashes as it came fast drawing toward the end; i watched it as a friend would watch beside a dying friend; but still the flame swept slowly on; it vanished into air; i threw it from me,--spare the tale,-- it was my last cigar. i've seen the land of all i love fade in the distance dim; i've watched above the blighted heart, where once proud hope hath been; but i've never known a sorrow that could with that compare, when off the blue canaries i smoked my last cigar. joseph warren fabens. latakia. i. when all the panes are hung with frost, wild wizard-work of silver lace, i draw my sofa on the rug, before the ancient chimney-place. upon the painted tiles are mosques and minarets, and here and there a blind muezzin lifts his hands, and calls the faithful unto prayer. folded in idle, twilight dreams, i hear the hemlock chirp and sing, as if within its ruddy core it held the happy heart of spring. ferdousi never sang like that, nor saadi grave, nor hafiz gay; i lounge, and blow white rings of smoke, and watch them rise and float away. ii. the curling wreaths like turbans seem of silent slaves that come and go,-- or viziers, packed with craft and crime, whom i behead from time to time, with pipe-stem, at a single blow. and now and then a lingering cloud takes gracious form at my desire, and at my side my lady stands, unwinds her veil with snowy hands,-- a shadowy shape, a breath of fire! o love, if you were only here beside me in this mellow light, though all the bitter winds should blow, and all the ways be choked with snow, 'twould be a true arabian night! t.b. aldrich. my after-dinner cloud. some sombre evening, when i sit and feed in solitude at home, perchance an ultra-bilious fit paints all the world an orange chrome. when fear and care and grim despair flock round me in a ghostly crowd, one charm dispels them all in air,-- i blow my after-dinner cloud. 'tis melancholy to devour the gentle chop in loneliness. i look on six--my prandial hour-- with dread not easy to express. and yet for every penance done, due compensation seems allow'd. my penance o'er, its price is won,-- i blow my after-dinner cloud. my clay is _not_ a henry clay,-- i like it better on the whole; and when i fill it, i can say, i drown my sorrows in the bowl. for most i love my lowly pipe when weary, sad, and leaden-brow'd; at such a time behold me ripe to blow my after-dinner cloud. as gracefully the smoke ascends in columns from the weed beneath, my friendly wizard, fancy, lends a vivid shape to every wreath. strange memories of life or death up from the cradle to the shroud, come forth as, with enchanter's breath, i blow my after-dinner cloud. what wonder if it stills my care to quit the present for the past, and summon back the things that were, which only thus in vapor last? what wonder if i envy not the rich, the giddy, and the proud, contented in this quiet spot to blow my after-dinner cloud? henry s. leigh. the happy smoking-ground. when that last pipe is smoked at last and pouch and pipe put by, and smoked and smoker both alike in dust and ashes lie, what of the smoker? whither passed? ah, will he smoke no more? and will there be no golden cloud upon the golden shore? ah! who shall say we cry in vain to fate upon his hill, for, howsoe'er we ask and ask, he goes on smoking still. but, surely, 'twere a bitter thing if other men pursue their various earthly joys again beyond that distant blue, if the poor smoker might not ply his peaceful passion too. if indian braves may still up there on merry scalpings go, and buried britons rise again with arrow and with bow, may not the smoker hope to take his "cutty" from below? so let us trust; and when at length you lay me 'neath the yew, forget not, o my friends, i pray, pipes and tobacco too! richard le gallienne. sweet smoking pipe. sweet smoking pipe; bright glowing stove, companion still of my retreat, thou dost my gloomy thoughts remove, and purge my brain with gentle heat. tobacco, charmer of my mind, when, like the meteor's transient gleam. thy substance gone to air i find, i think, alas, my life's the same! what else but lighted dust am i? then shew'st me what my fate will be; and when thy sinking ashes die, i learn that i must end like thee. anon. cigarette rings. how it blows! how it rains! i'll not turn out to-night; i'm too sleepy to read and too lazy to write; so i'll watch the blue rings, as they eddy and twirl, and in gossamer wreathings coquettishly curl. in the stillness of night and the sparseness of chimes there's a fleetness in fancy, a frolic in rhymes; there's a world of romance that persistently clings to the azurine curving of cigarette rings! what a picture comes back from the passed-away times! they are lounging once more 'neath the sweet-scented limes; see how closely he watches the queen of coquettes, as her white hands roll deftly those small cigarettes! he believes in her smiles and puts faith in her sighs while he's dazzled by light from her fathomless eyes. ah, the dearest of voices delightfully sings through the wind intertwining of cigarette rings! how sweet was her song in the bright summer-time, when winds whispered low 'neath the tremulous lime! how sweet, too, that bunch of forget-me-nots blue-- the love he thought lasting, the words he thought true! _ah, the words of a woman concerning such things_ _are weak and unstable as cigarette rings!_ j. ashby-sterry. smoking spiritualized. the following old poem was long ascribed, on apparently sufficient grounds, to the rev. ralph erskine, or, as he designated himself, "ralph erskine, v.d.m." the peasantry throughout the north of england always called it "erskine song;" and not only is his name given as the author in numerous chap-books, but in his own volume of "gospel sonnets," from an early copy of which this version is transcribed. the discovery, however, by mr. collier of the first part in a mss. temp. james i., with the initials "g.w." affixed to it, has disposed of erskine's claim to the honor of the entire authorship. g.w. is supposed to be george wither; but this is purely conjectural, and it is not at all improbable that g.w. really stands for w.g., as it was a common practice among anonymous writers to reverse their initials. the history, then, of the poem seems to be this: that the first part, as it is now printed, originally constituted the whole production, being complete in itself; that the second part was afterwards added by the rev. ralph erskine, and that both parts came subsequently to be ascribed to him, as his was the only name published in connection with the song. see "ballads of the peasantry," bell's edition. variants of this song will be found on pages and of the present collection; the first is ascribed to george wither, and the other is taken from the first volume of "pills to purge melancholy." part i. this indian weed, now withered quite. tho' green at noon, cut down at night, shows thy decay, all flesh is hay: thus think, and smoke tobacco. the pipe, so lily-like and weak, does thus thy mortal state bespeak; thou art e'en such-- gone with a touch: thus think, and smoke tobacco. and when the smoke ascends on high, then thou behold'st the vanity of worldly stuff-- gone with a puff: thus think, and smoke tobacco. and when the pipe grows foul within, think on thy soul defiled with sin; for then the fire it doth require: thus think, and smoke tobacco. and seest the ashes cast away, then to thyself thou mayest say, that to the dust return thou must: thus think, and smoke tobacco. part ii. was this small plant for thee cut down? so was the plant of great renown, which mercy sends for nobler ends: thus think, and smoke tobacco. does juice medicinal proceed from such a naughty foreign weed? then what's the power of jesse's flower? thus think, and smoke tobacco. the promise, like the pipe, inlays, and by the mouth of faith conveys what virtue flows from sharon's rose: thus think, and smoke tobacco. in vain the unlighted pipe you blow; your pains in outward means are so, 'till heavenly fire your heart inspire: thus think, and smoke tobacco. the smoke, like burning incense, towers: so should a praying heart of yours, with ardent cries, surmount the skies: thus think, and smoke tobacco. tobacco is an indian weed. tobacco's but an indian weed, grows green at morn, cut down at eve; it shows decay; we are but clay; think of this when you smoke tobacco. the pipe that is so lily white, wherein so many take delight, is broke with a touch,--man's life is such; think of this when you smoke tobacco. the pipe that is so foul within shows how man's soul is stained with sin, and then the fire it doth require; think of this when you smoke tobacco. the ashes that are left behind do serve to put us all in mind that unto dust return we must; think of this when you smoke tobacco. the smoke that does so high ascend shews us man's life must have an end; the vapor's gone,--man's life is done; think of this when you smoke tobacco. from "_pills to purge melancholy_." tobacco. let poets rhyme of what they will, youth, beauty, love, or glory, still my theme shall be tobacco! hail, weed, eclipsing every flow'r, of thee i fain would make my bow'r, when fortune frowns, or tempests low'r, mild comforter of woe! they say in truth an angel's foot first brought to life thy precious root, the source of every pleasure! descending from the skies he press'd with hallowed touch earth's yielding breast; forth sprang the plant, and then was bless'd, as man's chief treasure! throughout the world who knows thee not? of palace and of lowly cot the universal guest,-- the friend of gentile, turk, and jew, to all a stay, to none untrue, the balm that can our ills subdue, and soothe us into rest! with thee the poor man can abide oppression, want, the scorn of pride, the curse of penury. companion of his lonely state, he is no longer desolate, and still can brave an adverse fate with honest worth and thee! all honor to the patriot bold who brought, instead of promised gold, thy leaf to britain's shore. it cost him life; but thou shalt raise a cloud of fragrance to his praise, and bards shall hail in deathless lays the valiant knight of yore. ay, raleigh! thou wilt live till time shall ring his last oblivious chime, the fruitful theme of story; and man in ages hence shall tell how greatness, virtue, wisdom, fell, when england sounded out thy knell, and dimmed her ancient glory. and thou, o plant! shalt keep his name unwithered in the scroll of fame, and teach us to remember; he gave with thee content and peace, bestow'd on life a longer lease, and bidding every trouble cease, made summer of december. thomas jones. the cigar. some sigh for this and that, my wishes don't go far; the world may wag at will, so i have my cigar. some fret themselves to death with whig and tory jar; i don't care which is in, so i have my cigar. sir john requests my vote, and so does mr. marr; i don't care how it goes, so i have my cigar. some want a german row, some wish a russian war; i care not. i'm at peace so i have my cigar. i never see the "post," i seldom read the "star;" the "globe" i scarcely heed, so i have my cigar. honors have come to men my juniors at the bar; no matter--i can wait, so i have my cigar. ambition frets me not; a cab or glory's car are just the same to me, so i have my cigar. i worship no vain gods, but serve the household lar; i'm sure to be at home, so i have my cigar. i do not seek for fame, a general with a scar; a private let me be, so i have my cigar. to have my choice among the toys of life's bazaar, the deuce may take them all so i have my cigar. some minds are often tost by tempests like a tar; i always seem in port, so i have my cigar. the ardent flame of love, my bosom cannot char, i smoke but do not burn, so i have my cigar. they tell me nancy low has married mr. r.; the jilt! but i can live, so i have my cigar. thomas hood. pipe and tobacco. when my pipe burns bright and clear, the gods i need not envy here; and as the smoke fades in the wind, our fleeting life it brings to mind. noble weed! that comforts life, and art with calmest pleasures rife; heaven grant thee sunshine and warm rain, and to thy planter health and gain. through thee, friend of my solitude, with hope and patience i'm endued, deep sinks thy power within my heart, and cares and sorrows all depart. then let non-smokers rail forever; shall their hard words true friends dissever? pleasure's too rare to cast away my pipe, for what the railers say! when love grows cool, thy fire still warms me, when friends are fled, thy presence charms me; if thou art full, though purse be bare, i smoke, and cast away all care! _german folk song._ the latest convert. i've been in love some scores of times, with amy, nellie, katie, mary-- to name them all would stretch my rhymes from here as far as demerary. but each has wed some other man,-- girls always do, i find, in real life,-- and i am left alone to scan the horizon of my own ideal life. i still survive. i was, i think, not born to run in double harness; i did not shirk my food and drink when nellie married harry carnice. but i am wedded to my pipe! that faithful friend, nought can provoke it; should it grow cold, i gently wipe its mouth, then fill it, light, and smoke it. but it is sweet to kiss; and i should love to kiss a wife and pet her-- she scolds? straight to my pipe i fly; her scowls through fragrant smoke look better. there's merry maud--with her i'd dare to brave the matrimonial ocean; _she_ would not pout or fret, but wear a constant smile of sweet devotion. how know i that she will not change, my wishes at defiance set? oh! (pray this in smallest type arrange) she smokes--at times--a cigareto. f.w. littleton hay. confession of a cigar smoker. i owe to smoking, more or less, through life the whole of my success; with my cigar i'm sage and wise,-- without, i'm dull as cloudy skies. when smoking, all my ideas soar, when not, they sink upon the floor. the greatest men have all been smokers, and so were all the greatest jokers. then ye who'd bid adieu to care, come here and smoke it into air. anon. sir walter raleigh! name of worth, how sweet for thee to know king james, who never smoked on earth, is smoking down below. the smoker's calendar. when january's cold appears, a glowing pipe my spirit cheers; and still it glads the length'ning day 'neath february's milder sway. when march's keener winds succeed, what charms me like the burning weed when april mounts the solar car, i join him, puffing a cigar; and may, so beautiful and bright, still finds the pleasing weed a-light. to balmy zephyrs it gives zest when june in gayest livery's drest. through july, flora's offspring smile, but still nicotia's can beguile; and august, when its fruits are ripe, matures my pleasure in a pipe. september finds me in the garden, communing with a long churchwarden. even in the wane of dull october i smoke my pipe and sip my "robar." november's soaking show'rs require the smoking pipe and blazing fire. the darkest day in drear december's-- that's lighted by their glowing embers. anon. an old sweetheart of mine. as one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone, and muses on the faces of the friends that he has known, so i turn the leaves of fancy, till in shadowy design i find the smiling features of an old sweetheart of mine. the lamplight seems to glimmer with a flicker of surprise, as i turn it low, to rest me of the dazzle in my eyes, and light my pipe in silence, save a sigh that seems to yoke its fate with my tobacco, and to vanish with the smoke. 'tis a fragrant retrospection, for the loving thoughts that start into being are like perfumes from the blossom of the heart; and to dream the old dreams over is a luxury divine-- when my truant fancies wander with that old sweetheart of mine. though i hear, beneath my study, like a fluttering of wings, the voices of my children and the mother as she sings, i feel no twinge of conscience to deny me any theme when care has cast her anchor in the harbor of a dream. in fact, to speak in earnest, i believe it adds a charm to spice the good a trifle with a little dust of harm; for i find an extra flavor in memory's mellow wine that makes me drink the deeper to that old sweetheart of mine. a face of lily-beauty, with a form of airy grace, floats out of my tobacco as the genii from the vase; and i thrill beneath the glances of a pair of azure eyes, as glowing as the summer and as tender as the skies. i can see the pink sunbonnet and the little checkered dress she wore when first i kissed her, and she answered the caress with the written declaration that, "as surely as the vine grew round the stump," she loved me,--that old sweetheart of mine! and again i feel the pressure of her slender little hand, as we used to talk together of the future we had planned: when i should be a poet, and with nothing else to do but write the tender verses that she set the music to; when we should live together in a cozy little cot, hid in a nest of roses, with a fairy garden-spot, where the vines were ever fruited, and the weather ever fine, and the birds were ever singing for that old sweetheart of mine; and i should be her lover forever and a day, and she my faithful sweetheart till the golden hair was gray; and we should be so happy that when either's lips were dumb they would not smile in heaven till the other's kiss had come. but ah! my dream is broken by a step upon the stair, and the door is softly opened, and my wife is standing there! yet with eagerness and rapture all my visions i resign to greet the living presence of that old sweetheart of mine. james whitcomb riley. a pipe of tobacco. let the learned talk of books, the glutton of cooks, the lover of celia's soft smack--o! no mortal can boast so noble a toast as a pipe of accepted tobacco. let the soldier for fame, and a general's name, in battle get many a thwack--o! let who will have most, who will rule the rooste, give me but a pipe of tobacco. tobacco gives wit to the dullest old cit, and makes him of politics crack--o! the lawyers i' the hall were not able to bawl, were it not for a whiff of tobacco. the man whose chief glory is telling a story, had never arrived at the smack--o! between ever heying, and as i was saying, did he not take a whiff of tobacco. the doctor who places much skill in grimaces, and feels your pulse running tic-tack--o! would you know his chief skill? it is only to fill and smoke a good pipe of tobacco. the courtiers alone to this weed are not prone; would you know what 'tis makes them so slack--o? 'twas because it inclined to be honest the mind, and therefore they banished tobacco. henry fielding. friend of my youth, companion of my later days. what needs my muse to sing thy various praise? in country or in town, on land or sea, the weed is still delightful company. in joy or sorrow, grief or racking pain, we fly to thee for solace once again. delicious plant, by all the world consumed, 'tis pity thou, like man, to ashes too art doom'd. anon. tobacco, some say, is a potent narcotic, that rules half the world in a way quite despotic; so, to punish him well for his wicked and merry tricks, we'll burn him forthwith, as they used to do heretics. to my cigar. the warmth of thy glow, well-lighted cigar, makes happy thoughts flow, and drives sorrow afar. the stronger the wind blows, the brighter thou burnest! the dreariest of life's woes, less gloomy thou turnest! as i feel on my lip thy unselfish kiss, like thy flame-colored tip, all is rosy-hued bliss. no longer does sorrow lay weight on my heart; and all fears of the morrow, in joy-dreams depart. sweet cheerer of sadness! life's own happy star! i greet thee with gladness, my friendly cigar! friedrich marc. cigars and beer. here with my beer i sit, while golden moments flit. alas! they pass unheeded by; and, as they fly, i, being dry, sit idly sipping here my beer. oh, finer far than fame or riches are the graceful smoke-wreaths of this cigar! why should i weep, wail, or sigh? what if luck has passed me by? what if my hopes are dead, my pleasures fled? have i not still my fill of right good cheer,-- cigars and beer? go, whining youth, forsooth! go, weep and wail, sigh and grow pale, weave melancholy rhymes on the old times, whose joys like shadowy ghosts appear,-- but leave me to my beer! gold is dross, love is loss; so, if i gulp my sorrows down, or see them drown in foamy draughts of old nut-brown, then do i wear the crown without a cross! george arnold. effusion by a cigar smoker. warriors! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, your fame to raise, upon its blaze, alas! ye do but light your funeral pyre! tempting fate's stroke; ye fall, and all your glory ends in smoke. safe in my chair from wounds and woe, _my_ fire and smoke from mine own mouth i blow. ye booksellers! who deal, like me, in puffs, the public smokes, you and your hoax, and turns your empty vapor to rebuffs. ye through the nose pay for each puff; when mine the same way flows, it does not run me into debt; and thus, the more i fume, the less i fret. authors! created to be puff'd to death, and fill the mouth of some uncouth bookselling wight, who sucks your brains and breath, your leaves thus far (without its fire) resemble my cigar; but vapid, uninspired, and flat: when, when, o bards, will ye _compose_ like _that_? since life and the anxieties that share our hopes and trust, are smoke and dust, give me the smoke and dust that banish care. the roll'd leaf bring, which from its ashes, phoenix-like, can spring; the fragrant leaf whose magic balm can, like nepenthe, all our sufferings charm. oh, what supreme beatitude is this! what soft and sweet sensations greet my soul, and wrap it in elysian bliss! i soar above dull earth in these ambrosial clouds, like jove, and from my empyrean height look down upon the world with calm delight. horace smith. a pot, and a pipe of tobacco. some praise taking snuff; and 'tis pleasant enough to those who have got the right knack, o! but give me, my boys, those exquisite joys, a pot, and a pipe of tobacco. when fume follows fume to the top of the room, in circles pursuing their track, o! how sweet to inhale the health-giving gale of a pipe of virginia tobacco. let soldiers so bold for fame or for gold their enemies cut, slash, and hack, o! we have fire and smoke, though all but in joke, in a peaceable pipe of tobacco. should a mistress, unkind, be inconstant in mind, and on your affections look black, o! let her wherrit and tiff, 'twill blow off in a whiff, if you take but a pipe of tobacco. the miserly elf, who, in hoarding his pelf, keeps body and soul on the rack, o! would he bless and be blest, he might open his chest by taking a pipe of tobacco. politicians so wise, all ears and all eyes for news, till their addled pates crack, o! after puzzling their brains, will not get for their pains the worth of a pipe of tobacco if your land in the claw of a limb of the law you trust, or your health to a quack, o! 'tis fifty to one they're both as soon gone as you'd puff out a pipe of tobacco. life's short, 'tis agreed; so we'll try from the weed, of man a brief emblem to tack, o! when his spirit ascends, die he must,--and he ends in dust, like a pipe of tobacco. _from "the universal songster, or museum of mirth."_ if i were king. if i were king, my pipe should be premier. the skies of time and chance are seldom clear, we would inform them all, with bland blue weather. delight alone would need to shed a tear, for dream and deed should war no more together. art should aspire, yet ugliness be dear; beauty, the shaft, should speed with wit for feather; and love, sweet love, should never fall to sere, if i were king. but politics should find no harbour near; the philistine should fear to slip his tether; tobacco should be duty free, and beer; in fact, in room of this, the age of leather, an age of gold all radiant should appear, if i were king. w.e. henley. the pipe you make yourself. there's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes as well, there's plain pipes an' fancy pipes--things jes made to sell; but any pipe that kin be bought fer marbles, chalk, or pelf, ain't ekal to the flaver of th' pipe you make yourself. jest take a common corn cob an' whittle out the middle, then plug up one end of it as tight as any fiddle; fit a stem into th' side an' lay her on th' shelf, an' when she's dry you take her down, that pipe you made yourself. cram her full clar to th' brim with nachral leaf, you bet-- 't will smoke a trifle better for bein' somewhat wet-- take your worms and fishin' pole, and a jug along for health, an' you'll get a taste o' heaven from that pipe you made yourself. there's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes as well, there's plain pipes an' fancy pipes--things jes made to sell; but any pipe that kin be bought for marbles, chalk, or pelf, ain't ekal to th' flayer of the pipe you make yourself. henry e. brown. chibouque. at yeni-djami, after rhamadan, the pacha in his palace lolls at ease; latakieh fumes his sensual palate please, while round-limbed almées dance near his divan. slaves lure away _ennui_ with flowers and fan; and as his gem-tipped chibouque glows, he sees, in dreamy trance, those marvellous mysteries the prophet sings of in the al-korán! pale, dusk-eyed girls, with sequin-studded hair, dart through the opal clouds like agile deer, with sensuous curves his fancy to provoke,-- delicious houris, ravishing and fair, who to his vague and drowsy mind appear like fragrant phantoms arabesqued in smoke! francis s. saltus. in rotten row. in rotten row a cigarette i sat and smoked, with no regret for all the tumult that had been. the distances were still and green, and streaked with shadows cool and wet. two sweethearts on a bench were set, two birds among the boughs were met; so love and song were heard and seen in rotten row. a horse or two there was to fret the soundless sand; but work and debt, fair flowers and falling leaves between, while clocks are chiming clear and keen, a man may very well forget in rotten row. w.e. henley. the duet. i was smoking a cigarette; maud, my wife, and the tenor, mckey, were singing together a blithe duet, and days it were better i should forget came suddenly back to me,-- days when life seemed a gay masque ball, and to love and be loved was the sum of it all. as they sang together, the whole scene fled, the room's rich hangings, the sweet home air, stately maud, with her proud blond head, and i seemed to see in her place instead a wealth of blue-black hair, and a face, ah! your face--yours, lisette; a face it were wiser i should forget. we were back--well, no matter when or where; but you remember, i know, lisette. i saw you, dainty and debonair, with the very same look that you used to wear in the days i should forget. and your lips, as red as the vintage we quaffed, were pearl-edged bumpers of wine when you laughed. two small slippers with big rosettes peeped out under your kilt-skirt there, while we sat smoking our cigarettes (oh, i shall be dust when my heart forgets!) and singing that self-same air: and between the verses, for interlude, i kissed your throat and your shoulders nude. you were so full of a subtle fire, you were so warm and so sweet, lisette; you were everything men admire; and there were no fetters to make us tire, for you were--a pretty grisette. but you loved as only such natures can, with a love that makes heaven or hell for a man. they have ceased singing that old duet, stately maud and the tenor, mckey. "you are burning your coat with your cigarette, and _qu'avez vous_, dearest, your lids are wet," maud says, as she leans o'er me. and i smile, and lie to her, husband-wise, "oh, it is nothing but smoke in my eyes." ella wheeler wilcox. my cigarette. ma pauvre petite, my little sweet, why do you cry? why this small tear, so pure and clear, in each blue eye? "my cigarette-- i 'm smoking yet?" (i'll be discreet.) i toss it, see, away from me into the street. you see i do all things for you. come, let us sup. (but, oh, what joy to be that boy who picked it up.) tom hall. a bachelor's views. a pipe, a book, a cosy nook, a fire,--at least its embers; a dog, a glass:-- 'tis thus we pass such hours as one remembers. who'd wish to wed? poor cupid's dead these thousand years, i wager. the modern maid is but a jade, not worth the time to cage her. in silken gown to "take" the town her first and last ambition. what good is she to you or me who have but a "position"? so let us drink to her,--but think of him who has to keep her; and _sans_ a wife let's spend our life in bachelordom,--it's cheaper. tom hall. pipes and beer. before i was famous i used to sit in a dull old under-ground room i knew, and sip cheap beer, and be glad for it, with a wild bohemian friend or two. and oh, it was joy to loiter thus, at peace in the heart of the city's stir, entombed, while life hurried over us, in our lazy bacchanal sepulchre. there was artist george, with the blond greek head, and the startling creeds, and the loose cravat; there was splenetic journalistic fred, of the sharp retort and the shabby hat; there was dreamy frank, of the lounging gait, who lived on nothing a year, or less, and always meant to be something great, but only meant, and smoked to excess; and last myself, whom their funny sneers annoyed no whit as they laughed and said, i listened to all their grand ideas and wrote them out for my daily bread! the teuton beer-bibbers came and went, night after night, and stared, good folk, at our table, noisy with argument, and our chronic aureoles of smoke. and oh, my life! but we all loved well the talk,--free, fearless, keen, profound,-- the rockets of wit that flashed and fell in that dull old tavern under-ground! but there came a change in my days at last, and fortune forgot to starve and stint, and the people chose to admire aghast the book i had eaten dirt to print. and new friends gathered about me then, new voices summoned me there and here; the world went down in my dingy den, and drew me forth from the pipes and beer. i took the stamp of my altered lot, as the sands of the certain seasons ran, and slowly, whether i would or not, i felt myself growing a gentleman. but now and then i would break the thrall, i would yield to a pang of dumb regret, and steal to join them, and find them all, with the amber wassail near them yet,-- find, and join them, and try to seem a fourth for the old queer merry three, with my fame as much of a yearning dream as my morrow's dinner was wont to be. but the wit would lag, and the mirth would lack, and the god of jollity hear no call, and the prosperous broadcloth on my back hung over their spirits like a pall! it was not that they failed, each one, to try their warmth of welcome to speak and show; i should just have risen and said good-bye, with a haughty look, had they served me so. it was rather that each would seem, instead, with not one vestige of spleen or pride, across a chasm of change to spread his greeting hands to the further side. and our gladdest words rang strange and cold, like the echoes of other long-lost words; and the nights were no more the nights of old than spring would be spring without the birds! so they waned and waned, these visits of mine, 'till i married the heiress, ending here. for if caste approves the cigars and wine, she must frown perforce upon pipes and beer. and now 'tis years since i saw these men, years since i knew them living yet. and of this alone i am sure since then,-- that none has gained what he toiled to get. for i keep strict watch on the world of art, and george, with his wide, rich-dowered brain! his fervent fancy, his ardent heart, though he greatly toiled, has toiled in vain. and fred, for all he may sparkle bright in caustic column, in clever quip, of a truth must still be hiding his light beneath the bushel of journalship. and dreamy frank must be dreaming still, lounging through life, if yet alive, smoking his vast preposterous fill, lounging, smoking, striving to strive. and i, the fourth in that old queer throng, fourth and least, as my soul avows,-- i alone have been counted strong, i alone have the laurelled brows! well, and what has it all been worth? may not my soul to my soul confess that "succeeding," here upon earth, does not alway assume success? i would cast, and gladly, from this gray head its crown, to regain one sweet lost year with artist george, with splenetic fred, with dreamy frank, with the pipes and beer! edgar fawcett. a bachelor's invocation. when all my plans have come to grief, and every bill is due, and every faith that's worth belief has proved itself untrue; and when, as now, i've jilted been by every girl i've met, ah! then i flee for peace to thee, my darling cigarette. hail, sorceress! whose cloudy spells about my senses driven, alone can loose their prison cells and waft my soul to heaven. above all earthly loves, i swear, i hold thee best--and yet, would i could see a match for thee, my darling cigarette. with lips unstained to thee i bring a lover's gentle kiss, and woo thee, see, with this fair ring, and this, and this, and this. but ah, the rings no sooner cease (inconstant, vain coquette!) than, like the rest, thou vanishest in smoke, my cigarette. _pall mall gazette_. a righte merrie christmasse!!! the story of christ-tide by john ashton. copperplate etching of "the wassail song," by arthur c. behrend. london: published by the leadenhall press, ltd., leadenhall street; simpkin, marshall, hamilton, kent & co., ltd. new york: charles scribner's sons, - fifth avenue. the leadenhall press ltd. london [ ] [transcriber's notes: this text contains passages using the anglo-saxon thorn (Þ or þ, equivalent of "th"), which should display properly in most text viewers. the anglo-saxon yogh (equivalent of "y," "i," "g," or "gh") will display properly only if the user has the proper font, so to maximize accessibility, the character " " is used in this e-text to represent the yogh. characters with a macron are preceded by an equal sign and enclosed in square brackets, e.g., [=a]. superscripted characters are preceded by a carat and enclosed in curly brackets, e.g., y^{t}.] [illustration: the wassail song] to the reader i do not craue mo thankes to haue, than geuen to me all ready be; but this is all, to such as shall peruse this booke. that, for my sake, they gently take what ere they finde against their minde, when he, or she, shal minded be therein to looke. _tusser._ a righte merrie christmasse!!! preface it is with a view of preserving the memory of christmas that i have written this book. in it the reader will find its history, legends, folk-lore, customs, and carols--in fact, an epitome of old christ-tide, forming a volume which, it is hoped, will be found full of interest. john ashton. a righte merrie christmasse!!! contents chapter i date of christ's birth discussed--opinions of the fathers--the eastern church and christ-tide--error in chronology--roman saturnalia--scandinavian yule--duration of christ-tide chapter ii historic christ-tides in , , and --william i., - --william ii.--henry i., --stephen--henry ii., - --richard i., --john, --henry iii., --edwards i., ii., and iii.--richard ii., - --henry iv.-v., --henry viii., his magnificent christ-tides chapter iii historic christ-tides--edward vi., --mary--elizabeth--james i.--the puritans--the pilgrim fathers--christmas's lamentation--christ-tide in the navy, chapter iv attempts of puritans to put down christ-tide--attitude of the people--preaching before parliament--"the arraignment, etc., of christmas" chapter v the popular love of christmas--riots at ealing and canterbury--evelyn's christmas days, , ' , ' , ' , ' , cromwell and christ-tide--the restoration--pepys and christmas day, --"the examination and tryal of old father christmas" chapter vi commencement of christ-tide--"o sapientia!"--st. thomas's day--william the conqueror and the city of york--providing for christmas fare--charities of food--bull-baiting--christ-tide charities--going "a-thomassing," etc.--superstitions of the day chapter vii paddington charity (bread and cheese lands)--barring-out at schools--interesting narrative chapter viii the bellman--descriptions of him--his verses. the waits--their origin--ned ward on them--corporation waits--york waits ( th century)--essay on waits--westminster waits--modern waits chapter ix christ-tide carols--the days of yule--a carol for christ-tide--"lullaby"--the cherry-tree carol--dives and lazarus chapter x christmas eve--herrick thereon--the yule log--folk-lore thereon--the ashen faggot--christmas candles--christmas eve in the isle of man--hunting the wren--divination by onions and sage--a custom at aston--"the mock"--decorations and kissing bunch--"black ball"--guisers and waits--ale posset chapter xi christmas eve in north notts--wassailing the fruit trees--wassail songs--wassailing in sussex--other customs--king at downside college--christ-tide carol--midnight mass--the manger--st. francis of assisi chapter xii decorating with evergreens--its origin and antiquity--mistletoe in churches--the permissible evergreens--the holly--"holly and ivy"--"here comes holly"--"ivy, chief of trees"--"the contest of the ivy and the holly"--holly folk-lore--church decorations--to be kept up till candlemas day chapter xiii legends of the nativity--the angels--the birth--the cradles--the ox and ass--legends of animals--the carol of st. stephen--christmas wolves--dancing for a twelve-months--underground bells--the fiddler and the devil chapter xiv the glastonbury thorn, its legend--cuttings from it--oaks coming into leaf on christmas day--folk-lore--forecast, according to the days of the week on which christmas falls--other folk-lore thereon chapter xv withholding light--"wesley bob"--wassail carol--presents in church--morris dancers--"first foot"--red-haired men--lamprey pie--"hodening"--its possible origin--the "mari lhoyd" chapter xvi curious gambling customs in church--boon granted--sheaf of corn for the birds--crowning of the cock--"the lord mayor of pennyless cove"--"letting in yule"--guisards--christmas in the highlands--christmas in shetland--christmas in ireland chapter xvii ordinance against out-door revelry--marriage of a lord of misrule--mummers and mumming--country mummers--early play--two modern plays chapter xviii a christmas jest--ben jonson's masque of christmas--milton's masque of comus--queen elizabeth and the masters of defence chapter xix the lord of misrule--the "emperor" and "king" at oxford--dignity of the office--its abolition in the city of london--the functions of a lord of misrule--christmas at the temple--a grand christmas there chapter xx a riotous lord of misrule at the temple--stubbes on lords of misrule--the bishops ditto--mumming at norwich --dancing at the inns of court--dancing at christmas--the cushion dance chapter xxi honey fairs--card-playing at christmas--throwing the hood--early religious plays--moralities--story of a gray's inn play--the first pantomime--spectacular drama--george barnwell--story respecting this play chapter xxii profusion of food at christ-tide--old english fare--hospitality--proclamations for people to spend christ-tide at their country places--roast beef--boar's head--boar's head carol--custom at queen's college, oxon.--brawn--christmas pie--goose pie--plum pudding--plum porridge--anecdotes of plum pudding--large one--mince pies--hackin--folk-lore--gifts at christ-tide--yule doughs--cop-a-loaf--snap-dragon chapter xxiii the first carol--anglo-norman carol--fifteenth-century carol--"the twelve good joys of mary"--other carols--"a virgin most pure"--carol of fifteenth century--"a christenmesse carroll" chapter xxiv christmas gifts forbidden in the city of london--charles ii. and christmas gifts--christmas tree--asiatic descent--scandinavian descent--candles on the tree--early notices of in england--santa claus--krishkinkle--curious tenures of land at christmas chapter xxv christ-tide literature--christmas cards--their origin--lamplighter's verses--watchman's verses--christmas pieces chapter xxvi carol for st. stephen's day--boxing day--origin of custom--early examples--the box--bleeding horses--festivity on this day--charity at bampton--hunting the wren in ireland--song of the wren boys chapter xxvii st. john's day--legend of the saint--carols for the day--holy innocents--whipping children--boy bishops--ceremonies connected therewith--the king of cockney's unlucky day--anecdote thereon--carol for the day chapter xxviii new year's eve--wassail--new year's eve customs--hogmany--the cl[=a]vie--other customs--weather prophecy chapter xxix new year's day--carol--new year's gifts--"dipping"--riding the "stang"--curious tenures--god cakes--the "quaaltagh"--"first foot" in scotland--highland customs--in ireland--weather prophecies--handsel monday chapter xxx eve of twelfth day--thirteen fires--tossing the cake--wassailing apple-trees--the eve in ireland--twelfth day, or epiphany--carol for the day--royal offerings chapter xxxi "the king of the bean"--customs on twelfth day--twelfth cakes--twelfth night characters--modern twelfth night--the pastry cook's shops--dethier's lottery--the song of the wren--"holly night" at brough--"cutting off the fiddler's head" chapter xxxii st. distaff's day--plough monday--customs on the day--feast of the purification chapter i date of christ's birth discussed--opinions of the fathers--the eastern church and christ-tide--error in chronology--roman saturnalia--scandinavian yule--duration of christ-tide. the day on which jesus christ died is plainly distinguishable, but the day of his birth is open to very much question, and, literally, is only conjectural; so that the th december must be taken purely as the day on which his birth is celebrated, and not as his absolute natal day. in this matter we can only follow the traditions of the church, and tradition alone has little value. in the second and early third centuries of our æra, we only know that the festivals, other than sundays and days set apart for the remembrance of particular martyrs, were the passover, pentecost, and the epiphany, the baptism or manifestation of our lord, when came "a voice from heaven saying, this is my beloved son, in whom i am well pleased." this seems always to have been fixed for the th of january, and with it was incorporated the commemoration of his birth. titus flavius clemens, generally known as clemens of alexandria, lived exactly at this time, and was a contemporary of origen. he speaks plainly on the subject, and shows the uncertainty, even at that early epoch of christianity, of fixing the date:[ ] "there are those who, with an over-busy curiosity, attempt to fix not only the year, but the date of our saviour's birth, who, they say, was born in the twenty-eighth year of augustus, on the th of the month pachon," _i.e._ the th of may. and in another place he says: "some say that he was born on the th or th of the month pharmuthi," which would be the th or th of april. [footnote : _stromat._, l. , pp. - , ed. oxon., .] but, perhaps, the best source of information is from the _mémoires pour servir à l'histoire ecclésiastique des six premiers siècles_, by louis sebastian le nain de tillemont, written at the very commencement of the eighteenth century,[ ] and i have no hesitation in appending a portion of his fourth note, which treats "_upon the day and year of the birth of jesus christ_." [footnote : translated by t. deacon in - , pp. - .] "it is thought that jesus christ was born in the night, because it was night when the angel declared his birth to the shepherds: in which s. augustin says that he literally fulfilled david's words, _ante luciferum genuite_. "the tradition of the church, says this father, is that it was upon the th of december. casaubon acknowledges that we should not immediately reject it upon the pretence that it is too cold a season for cattle to be at pasture, there being a great deal of difference between these countries and judæa; and he assures us that, even in england, they leave the cows in the field all the year round. "s. chrysostom alleges several reasons to prove that jesus christ was really born upon the th of december; but they are weak enough, except that which he assures of, that it has always been the belief of the western churches. s. epiphanius, who will have the day to have been the th of january, places it but at twelve days' distance. s. clement of alexandria says that, in his time, some fixed the birth of jesus christ upon the th or th april; others, on the th of may. he speaks of it as not seeing anything certain in it. "it is cited from one john of nice, that it was only under pope julius that the festival of the nativity was fixed at rome upon the th of december. father combesisius, who has published the epistle of this author, confesses that he is very modern: to which we may add that he is full of idle stories, and entirely ignorant of the history and discipline of antiquity. so that it is better to rest upon the testimony of s. chrysostom, who asserts that, for a long time before, and by very ancient tradition, it was celebrated upon the th of december in the west, that is, in all the countries which reach from thrace to cadiz, and to the farthest parts of spain. he names rome particularly; and thinks that it might be found there that this was the true day of our saviour's birth, by consulting the registers of the description of judæa made at that time, supposing them still to be preserved there. we find this festival placed upon the th of december in the ancient roman calendar, which was probably made in the year .... "we find by s. basil's homily upon the birth of our lord that a festival in commemoration of it was observed in cappadocia, provided that this homily is all his; but i am not of opinion that it appears from thence either that this was done in january rather than december or any other month in the year, or that this festival was joined with that of the baptism. on the contrary, the churches of cappadocia seem to have distinguished the feast of the nativity from that of the epiphany, for s. gregory nazianzen says, that after he had been ordained priest, in the year , upon the festival of one mystery, he retired immediately after into pontus, on that of another mystery, and returned from pontus upon that of a third. now we find that he returned at easter, so that there is all imaginable reason to believe that he was ordained at christmas, and retired upon the epiphany. s. basil died, in all probability, upon the st of january in the year , and s. gregory nyssen says that his festival followed close upon those of christmas, s. stephen, s. peter, s. james, and s. john. we read in an oration ascribed to s. amphilochius, that he died on the day of the circumcision, between the nativity of jesus christ and his baptism. s. gregory nyssen says that the feast of lights, and of the baptism of jesus christ, was celebrated some days after that of his nativity. the other s. gregory takes notice of several mysteries which were commemorated at nazianzium with the nativity, the magi, etc., but he says nothing, in that place, of the baptism. and yet, if the festival of christmas was observed in cappadocia upon the th of december, we must say that s. chrysostom was ignorant of it, since he ascribes this practice only to thrace and the more western provinces.... "in the year , or soon after, some persons who came from rome, introduced into syria the practice of celebrating our lord's nativity in the month of december, upon the same day as was done in the west; and this festival was so well received in that country that in less than ten years it was entirely established at antioch, and was observed there by all the people with great solemnity, though some complained of it as an innovation. s. chrysostom, who informs us of all this, speaks of it in such a manner as to make father thomassin say, not that the birth of jesus christ had till then been kept upon a wrong day, but that absolutely it had not been celebrated there at all. "s. chrysostom seems to say, that this festival was received at the same time by the neighbouring provinces to antioch; but this must not be extended as far as to egypt, as we learn from a passage in cassian. this author seems to speak only of the time when he was in scetæ (about ), but also of that when he wrote his tenth conference (about the year or ). but it appears that, in the year , egypt had likewise embraced the practice of rome: for paul of emesa, in the discourse which he made then at alexandria upon the th of coiac, which is the th of december, says it was the day on which jesus christ was born. s. isidore of pelusium, in egypt, mentions the theophany and the nativity of our saviour, according to the flesh, as two different festivals. we were surprised to read in an oration of basil of seleucia, upon s. stephen, that juvenal of jerusalem, who might be made bishop about the year , was the first who celebrated there our saviour's nativity." the armenian church still keeps up the eastern th of january as christmas day--and, as the old style of the calendar is retained, it follows that they celebrate the nativity twenty-four days after we do: and modern writers make the matter more mixed--for wiesseler thinks that the date of the nativity was th january, whilst mr. greswell says it occurred on the th april b.c. . it is not everybody that knows that our system of chronology is four years wrong--_i.e._ that jesus christ must have been born four years before _anno domini_, the year of our lord. it happened in this way. dionysius exiguus, in , first introduced the system of writing the words _anno domini_, to point out the number of years which had elapsed since the incarnation of our lord; in other words he introduced our present chronology. he said the year was the same as the year a.u.c. (from the building of rome) ; and this statement he based on the fact that our saviour was born in the twenty-eighth year of the reign of augustus; and he reckoned from a.u.c. , when the emperor first took the name of augustus. the early christians, however, dated from the battle of actium, which was a.u.c. , thus making the nativity . now we believe that that event took place during herod's reign, and we know that herod died between the th march and th march, on which day passover commenced, in a.u.c. , so that it stands to reason that our chronology is wrong. some think that the date of th december, which certainly began in the roman church, was fixed upon to avoid the multiplication of festivals about the vernal equinox, and to appropriate to a christian use the existing festival of the winter solstice--the returning sun being made symbolical of the visit of christ to our earth; and to withdraw christian converts from those pagan observances with which the closing year was crowded, whilst the licence of the _saturnalia_ was turned into the merriment of christmas. this festival of the saturnalia (of which the most complete account is given by macrobius in his _conviviorum saturnaliorum_) dated from the remotest settlement of latium, whose people reverenced saturnus as the author of husbandry and the arts of life. at this festival the utmost freedom of social intercourse was permitted to all classes; even slaves were allowed to come to the tables of their masters clothed in their apparel, and were waited on by those whom they were accustomed to serve. feasting, gaming, and revelry were the occupations of all classes, without discrimination of age, or sex, or rank. processions crowded the streets, boisterous with mirth: these illuminated the night with lighted tapers of wax, which were also used as gifts between friends in the humbler walks of life. the season was one for the exchange of gifts of friendship, and especially of gifts to children. it began on the th december, and extended virtually, to the commencement of the new year. prynne[ ] speaks thus of christmas: "if we compare our bacchanalian christmasses and new year's tides with these saturnalia and feasts of janus, we shall finde such near affinytie betweene them both in regard of time (they being both in the end of december and on the first of january), and in their manner of solemnizing (both of them being spent in revelling, epicurisme, wantonesse, idlenesse, dancing, drinking, stage playes, and such other christmas disorders now in use with christians), were derived from these roman saturnalia and bacchanalian festivals; which should cause all pious christians eternally to abominate them." [footnote : _histrio mastix_, ed. , p. .] the anglo-saxons and early english knew not the words either of christmas or christ-tide. to them it was the season of yule. bede (_de temporum ratione_, c. ), regards it as a term for the winter solstice. "menses giuli a conversione solis in auctum dici, quia unus eorum præcedit, alius subsequitur, nomina acceperunt": alluding to the anglo-saxon calendar, which designated the months of december and january as _æerre-geola_ and _æftera-geola_, the former and the latter yule. both skeat and wedgwood derive it from the old norse _jól_, which means feasting and revelry. mr. j.f. hodgetts, in an article entitled "paganism in modern christianity" (_antiquary_, december , p. ), says:-- "the ancient name (yule) for christmas is still used throughout all scandinavia. the swedes, danes, and norwegians wish each other a 'glad yule,' as we say 'a merry christmas to you.' this alone would serve to draw our attention to scandinavia, even if no other reason existed for searching there for the origin of our great christian feast. the grand storehouses of pagan lore, as far as the northern nations of teutonic race are concerned, are the two eddas, and if we refer to the part, or chapter, of snorri sturlson's edda, known as _gylfa ginning_, we shall find the twelfth name of odin, the father of the gods, or allfather, given as _iàlg_ or _iàlkr_ (pronounced _yolk_ or _yulg_). the christmas tree, introduced into russia by the scandinavians, is called _ëlka_ (pronounced _yolka_), and in the times just preceding, and just after, the conquest of britain by the english, this high feast of odin was held in mid-winter, under the name of _iàlka tid_, or yule-tide. it was celebrated at this season, because the vikings, being then unable to go to sea, could assemble in their great halls and temples and drink to the gods they served so well. another reason was, that it fell towards the end of the twelve mystic months that made up the mythical, as well as the cosmical, cycle of the year, and was therefore appropriately designated by the last of the names by which odin is called in the edda." there are different opinions as to the duration of christ-tide. the roman church holds that christmas properly begins at lauds on christmas eve, when the divine office begins to be solemnised as a double, and refers directly to the nativity of our lord. it terminates on the th of january, the octave day of the epiphany. the evergreens and decorations remain in churches and houses until the nd of february, the purification of the blessed virgin mary. but i think that if we in england are bound by ecclesiastical law as to the keeping of christ-tide, it should, at least, be an english use--such as was observed before the domination of rome in england. and, previous to the _natale_, or festival of the nativity, the early church ordained a preparatory period of _nine days_, called a _novena_. these take the commencement of christ-tide back to the th december, on which day the sarum use ordained the anthem, which commences, "o sapientia, quæ ex ore altissimi prodidisti," and at the present time this day is marked in the calendar of the english church service book as "o sapientia." that this was commonly considered the commencement of christ-tide is shown by the following anecdote of the learned dr. parr:--a lady asked him when christmas commenced, so that she might know when to begin to eat mince pies. "please to say christmas pie, madam," replied the doctor. "mince pie is presbyterian." "well, christmas pie--when may we begin to eat them?" "look in your prayer-book calendar for december and there you will find 'o sapientia.' then christmas pie--not before." the festival was considered of such high importance by the anglo-saxons that the ordinary octave was not good enough; it must be kept up for _twelve_ days. and collier (_eccl. hist._, , vol. i. p. ) says that a law passed in the days of king alfred, "by virtue of which the _twelve days_ after the nativity of our saviour are made festivals." this brings us to the feast of the epiphany, th january, or "twelfth day," when christmas ends--for the epiphany has its own octave to follow, and i think the general consensus of opinion is in favour of this ending. chapter ii historic christ-tides in , , and --william i., - --william ii.--henry i., --stephen--henry ii., - --richard i., --john, --henry iii., --edwards i., ii., and iii.--richard ii., - --henry iv.-v., --henry viii., his magnificent christ-tides. the earliest historic christmas in england was , when the welsh suddenly attacked the soldiers of offa, king of mercia, who were celebrating christ-tide, and slew many of them; and in , when alfred was doing likewise at chippenham, that guthrum and his danes fell upon him, destroyed his forces, and sent him a fugitive. in , at this season, westminster abbey was consecrated, but king edward was not there, being too ill. next year, in this same church of st. peter, was william i. crowned on christmas day by aldred, archbishop of york; for he would not receive the crown at the hands of stigand, archbishop of canterbury, "because he was hated, and furthermore judged to be a verie lewd person, and a naughtie liver." in he kept his christ-tide at gloucester, where he knighted his son henry. william ii. followed the example of his father, and kept the festival in state; as did henry i. at westminster, windsor, and elsewhere. but that of at windsor was somewhat marred by a quarrel between two prelates. it seems that thurston, archbishop of york (in prejudice of the right of william, archbishop of canterbury), would have set the crown on the king's head as he was going to hear mass, but was pushed back with some violence by the followers of the other archbishop, and his chaplain, who was bearing the archiepiscopal crozier, was ignominiously and contemptuously thrust out of doors, cross and all. the strife did not end there, for both the prelates, together with the bishop of lincoln, went to rome to lay their case before the pope for his decision. stephen, for a short time, kept christ-tide royally; but the internal dissensions of his kingdom prevented him from continuing celebrating the festival in state. henry ii. kept his first christ-tide at bermondsey, where, to conciliate his subjects, he solemnly promised to expel all foreigners from england, whereupon some tarried not, but went incontinently. a curious event happened at christmas , when the king, then at worcester, took the crown from his head and deposited it on the altar, never wearing it afterwards. in he spent the feast at dublin, where, there being no place large enough, he built a temporary hall for the accommodation of his suite and guests, to which latter he taught the delights of civilisation in good cookery, masquings, and tournaments. the most famous christ-tide that we hear of in the reign of richard i. is that in , when "the two kings of england and france held their christmasse this yeare at messina, and still the king of england used great liberalitie in bestowing his treasure freelie amongst knights and other men of warre, so that it was thought he spent more in a moneth than anie of his predecessours ever spent in a whole yeare." john kept christ-tide in at guildford, "and there gave to his servants manie faire liveries and suits of apparell. the archbishop of canturburie did also the like at canturburie, seeming in deed to strive with the king, which of them should passe the other in such sumptuous appareling of their men: whereat the king (and not without good cause) was greatlie mooved to indignation against him, although, for a time, he coloured the same." john took a speedy and very curious revenge. "from thence he returned and came to canturburie, where he held his easter, which fell that yeare on the day of the annunciation of our ladie, at which feast he sat crowned, together with his wife, queen isabell, _the archbishop of canturburie bearing the charges of them and their trains while they remained there_." next year he held the feast at argenton in normandy. henry iii. celebrated the nativity right royally in at york, "whither came alexander the young king of scots, and was there made knight by the king of england; and, on saint stephan's day, he married the ladie margaret, daughter to the king of england, according to the assurance before time concluded. there was a great assemblie of noble personages at that feast. the queene dowager of scotland, mother to king alexander, a frenchwoman of the house of coucie, had passed the sea, and was present there with a faire companie of lords and gentlemen. the number of knights that were come thither on the king of england's part were reckoned to be at the point of one thousand. the king of scots had with him three score knights, and a great sort of other gentlemen comparable to knights. the king of scots did homage to the king of england, at that time, for the realme of scotland, and all things were done with great love and favour, although, at the beginning, some strife was kindled about taking up of lodgings. this assemblie of the princes cost the archbishop verie deerelie in feasting and banketting them and their traines. at one dinner it was reported he spent at the first course three score fat oxen." edward i. had, at two separate times, as christmas guests llewellyn of wales and baliol of scotland. edward ii. kept one feast of the nativity at york in , revelling with piers gaveston and his companions; but that of was spent in prison at kenilworth, whilst his wife and son enjoyed themselves at wallingford. strange and sad guests, too, must the captive king of france and david of scotland have been at edward iii.'s christ-tide feast in at westminster. richard ii. came to the throne st june , a boy of eleven years, and i think stow has made a mistake in a year in the following account, because at the date he gives he would have been king instead of prince. "one other show, in the year , made by the citizens for the disport of the young prince richard, son to the black prince, in the feast of christmas, in this manner:--on the sunday before candlemas, in the night, one hundred and thirty citizens, disguised and well horsed, in a mummery, with sound of trumpets, sackbuts, cornets, shalmes, and other minstrels, and innumerable torch lights of wax, rode from newgate through cheape, over the bridge, through southwarke, and so to kennington beside lambheth, where the young prince remained with his mother and the duke of lancaster, his uncle, the earls of cambridge, hertford, warwicke, and suffolke, with divers other lords. in the first rank did ride forty-eight in the likeness and habit of esquires, two and two together, clothed in red coats and gowns of say or sandal, with comely visors on their faces; after them came forty-eight knights, in the same livery of colour and stuff; then followed one richly arrayed like an emperor; and, after him some distance, one stately attired like a pope, whom followed twenty-four cardinals; and, after them, eight or ten with black visors, not amiable, as if they had been legates from some foreign princes. these maskers, after they had entered kennington, alighted from their horses, and entered the hall on foot; which done, the prince, his mother, and the lords, came out of the chamber into the hall, whom the said mummers did salute, showing by a pair of dice upon the table their desire to play with the prince, which they so handled, that the prince did always win when he cast them. then the mummers set to the prince three jewels, one after the other, which were a bowl of gold, a cup of gold, and a ring of gold, which the prince won at three casts. then they set to the prince's mother, the duke, the earls, and other lords, to every one a ring of gold, which they did also win. after which they were feasted, and the music sounded, the prince and lords danced on the one part with the mummers, which did also dance; which jollity being ended, they were again made to drink, and then departed in order as they came." when he came to the throne as richard ii. he had very enlarged ideas on expenditure, and amongst others on christmas feasts. he held one at lichfield in , where the pope's nuncio and several foreign noblemen were present, and he was obliged to enlarge the episcopal palace in order to accommodate his guests. stow tells us: "this yeere king richarde kept his christmas at liechfield, where he spent in the christmas time tunns of wine, and oxen with their appurtenances." but then he is said to have had cooks, and cookery was then elevated into a science: so much so, that the earliest cookery book that has come down to us is _the forme of cury_, which "was compiled of the chef mairt cok of kyng richard the secunde, kyng of .nglond[ ] aftir the conquest." twenty-eight oxen, three hundred sheep, an incredible number of fowls, and all kinds of game were slaughtered every morning for the use of his household. it seems incredible, but see what old john hardyng, the metrical chronicler, says:-- truly i herd robert ireleffe saye, clerke of the grene cloth, y^{t} to the household, came euery daye for moost partie alwaye, ten thousand folke by his messis tould, that folowed the hous aye as thei would, and in the kechin three hundred seruitours, and in eche office many occupiours; and ladies faire with their gentilwomen, chamberers also and launderers, three hundred of them were occupied then. [footnote : [transcriber's note: ".nglond" appears in the original. an th-century annotated edition of _the forme of cury_ notes that in the original manuscript, "e was intended to be prefixed in red ink" in place of the leading period. see pegge, samuel, _the forme of cury_, p. , note c (london: j. nichols, ) (page image available at http://www.pbm.com/~lindahl/foc/foc .html).]] of the christ-tides of henry iv. there are no events recorded, except that stow states that "in the nd of his reign, he then keeping his christmas at eltham, twelve aldermen and their sons rode in a mumming, and had great thanks," but henry v. had at least one sweet christmas day. it was in the year , when he was besieging rouen, and holinshed thus describes the sufferings of the garrison. "if i should rehearse (according to the report of diverse writers) how deerelie dogs, rats, mise, and cats were sold within the towne, and how greedilie they were by the poore people eaten and devoured, and how the people dailie died for fault of food, and young infants laie sucking in the streets on their mother's breasts, lieng dead, starved for hunger; the reader might lament their extreme miseries. a great number of poore sillie creatures were put out at the gates, which were by the englishmen that kept the trenches, beaten and driven backe againe to the same gates, which they found closed and shut against them. and so they laie betweene the wals of the citie and the trenches of the enimies, still crieing for helpe and releefe, for lacke whereof great numbers of them dailie died. "howbeit, king henrie, moved with pitie, upon christmasse daie, in the honor of christes nativitie, refreshed all the poore people with vittels, to their great comfort and his high praise." there are no notable christ-tides until we come to the reign of henry viii. in the second year of his reign he kept christmas quietly at richmond, the queen being near her confinement, which event taking place on the first of january, she was sufficiently recovered to look at the festivities on twelfth day. "against the twelfe daie, or the daie of the epiphanie, at night, before the banket in the hall at richmond, was a pageant devised like a mounteine, and set with stones; on the top of which mounteine was a tree of gold, the branches and boughes frised with gold, spreading on everie side over the mounteine, with roses and pomegranates, the which mounteine was, with vices, brought up towards the king, and out of the same came a ladie apparelled in cloth of gold, and the children of honour called the henchmen, which were freshlie disguised, and danced a morice before the king; and, that done, re-entered the mounteine, which was then drawen backe, and then was the wassail or banket brought in, and so brake up christmasse." however the queen was better next year, and "in this yeare the king kept his christmasse at greenewich, where was such abundance of viands served to all comers of anie honest behaviour, as hath beene few times seene. and against new yeeres night was made in the hall a castell, gates, towers, and dungeon, garnished with artillerie and weapon, after the most warlike fashion: and on the front of the castell was written _le forteresse dangereux_, and, within the castell were six ladies cloathed in russet sattin, laid all over with leaves of gold, and everie one knit with laces of blew silke and gold. on their heads, coifs and caps all of gold. after this castell had beene caried about the hall, and the queene had beheld it, in came the king with five other, apparelled in coats, the one half of russet sattin, the other halfe of rich cloth of gold; on their heads caps of russet sattin embrodered with works of fine gold bullion. "these six assaulted the castell. the ladies seeing them so lustie and couragious, were content to solace with them, and upon further communication to yeeld the castell, and so they came downe and dansed a long space. and after, the ladies led the knights into the castell, and then the castell suddenlie vanished out of their sights. on the daie of the epiphanie at night, the king, with eleven other, were disguised, after the manner of italie; called a maske, a thing not seene before, in england; they were apparelled in garments long and broad, wrought all with gold, with visors and caps of gold. and, after the banket done, these maskers came in, with six gentlemen disguised in silke, bearing staffe torches, and desired the ladies to danse: some were content, and some refused. and, after they had dansed, and communed togither, as the fashion of the maske is, they tooke their leave and departed, and so did the queene and all the ladies." in , "the king kept a solemne christmasse at greenwich, with danses and mummeries in most princelie manner. and on the twelfe daie at night came into the hall a mount, called _the_ rich mount. the mount was set full of rich flowers of silke, and especiallie full of broome slips full of cods, the branches were greene sattin, and the flowers flat gold of damaske, which signified plantagenet. on the top stood a goodlie beacon giving light; round about the beacon sat the king and five others, all in cotes and caps of right crimsin velvet, embrodered with flat gold of damaske, their cotes set full of spangles of gold. and foure woodhouses (? _wooden horses_) drew the mount till it came before the queene, and then the king and his companie descended and dansed. then, suddenlie, the mount opened, and out came six ladies in crimsin sattin and plunket, embrodered with gold and pearle, with french hoods on their heads, and they dansed alone. then the lords of the mount tooke the ladies and dansed together; and the ladies re-entered, and the mount closed, and so was conveied out of the hall. then the king shifted him, and came to the queene, and sat at the banket, which was verie sumptuous." , "this christmasse, on new yeares night, the king, the duke of suffolke, and two other were in mantels of cloath of silver, lined with blew velvet; the silver was pounced in letters, that the velvet might be seene through; the mantels had great capes like to the portingall slops, and all their hosen, dublets, and coats were of the same fashion cut, and of the same stuffe. with them were foure ladies in gowns, after the fashion of savoie, of blew velvet, lined with cloath of gold, the velvet all cut, and mantels like tipets knit togither all of silver, and on their heads bonets of burned gold: the foure torch-bearers were in sattin white and blew. this strange apparell pleased much everie person, and in especiall the queene. and thus these foure lords and foure ladies came into the queenes chamber with great light of torches, and dansed a great season, and then put off their visors, and were all well knowne, and then the queene hartily thanked the king's grace for her goodlie pastime and desport. "likewise on the twelve night, the king and the queene came into the hall at greenewich, and suddenlie entered a tent of cloath of gold; and before the tent stood foure men of armes, armed at all points, with swords in their hands; and, suddenlie, with noise of trumpets entered foure other persons all armed, and ran to the other foure, and there was a great and fierce fight. and, suddenlie, out of a place like a wood, eight wild men, all apparelled in greene mosse, made with sleved silke, with ouglie weapons, and terrible visages, and there fought with the knights eight to eight: and, after long fighting, the armed knights drove the wild men out of their places, and followed the chase out of the hall, and when they were departed, the tent opened, and there came out six lords and six ladies richlie apparelled, and dansed a great time. when they had dansed their pleasure, they entered the tent againe, which was conveied out of the hall: then the king and queene were served with a right sumptuous banket." in , "the king kept a solemne christmasse at his manor of eltham; and on the twelfe night, in the hall was made a goodlie castell, wounderously set out: and in it certeine ladies and knights; and when the king and queene were set, in came other knights and assailed the castell, where manie a good stripe was given; and at the last the assailants were beaten awaie. and then issued out knights and ladies out of the castell, which ladies were rich and strangelie disguised; for all their apparell was in braids of gold, fret with moving spangles of silver and gilt, set on crimsin sattin, loose and not fastned; the men's apparell of the same sute made like julis of hungarie, and the ladies heads and bodies were after the fashion of amsterdam. and when the dansing was done, the banket was served in of five hundred dishes, with great plentie to everie bodie." in , "the king kept his christmasse at his manor of greenwich, and on the twelfe night, according to the old custome, he and the queene came into the hall; and when they were set, and the queene of scots also, there entered into the hall a garden artificiall, called the garden of _esperance_. this garden was towred at everie corner, and railed with railes gilt; all the banks were set with flowers artificiall of silke and gold, the leaves cut of green sattin, so that they seemed verie flowers. in the midst of this garden was a piller of antique worke, all gold set with pearles and stones, and on the top of the piller, which was six square, was a lover, or an arch embowed, crowned with gold; within which stood a bush of roses red and white, all of silk and gold, and a bush of pomegranats of the like stuffe. in this garden walked six knights, and six ladies richlie apparelled, and then they descended and dansed manie goodlie danses, and so ascended out of the hall, and then the king was served with a great banket." in was the fearful plague of the "sweating sickness," and the chronicler says "this maladie was so cruell that it killed some within three houres, some merrie at dinner, and dead at dinner." it even invaded the sanctity of the court, and the king reduced his _entourage_, and kept no christmas that year. in , "the king kept his christmas at greenwich with much noblenesse and open court. on twelfe daie his grace and the earle of devonshire, with foure aids, answered at the tournie all commers, which were sixteene persons. noble and rich was their apparell, but in feats of armes the king excelled the rest." the next one recorded is that of , when "before the feast of christmasse, the lord leonard graie, and the lord john graie, brethren to the marquesse dorset, sir george cobham, sonne to the lord cobham, william carie, sir john dudleie, thomas wiat, francis pointz, francis sidneie, sir anthonie browne, sir edward seimor, oliver manners, percivall hart, sebastian nudigate, and thomas calen, esquiers of the king's houshold, enterprised a challenge of feats of armes against the feast of christmas, which was proclaimed by windsore the herald, and performed at the time appointed after the best manners, both at tilt, tourneie, barriers, and assault of a castell erected for that purpose in the tilt-yard at greenewich, where the king held a roiall christmasse that yeare, with great mirth and princelie pastime." of the next christ-tide we are told, "in this winter there was great death in london, so that the terme was adjourned: and the king kept his christmasse at eltham, with a small number, and therefore it was called the still christmasse." in , "the king kept a solemne christmasse at greenewich with revelles, maskes, disguisings and bankets; and the thirtith daie of december, was an enterprise of iusts made at the tilt by six gentlemen, against all commers, which valiantlie furnished the same, both with speare and sword; and like iustes were kept the third daie of januarie, where were three hundred speares broken. that same night, the king and manie yoong gentlemen with him, came to bridewell, and there put him and fifteene other, all in masking apparell, and then tooke his barge and rowed to the cardinal's place, where were at supper a great companie of lords and ladies, and then the maskers dansed, and made goodlie pastime; and when they had well dansed, the ladies plucked awaie their visors, and so they were all knowen, and to the king was made a great banket." this is the last recorded christ-tide of this reign, and, doubtless, as the king grew older and more sedate, he did not encourage the sports which delighted him in his hot youth. chapter iii historic christ-tides--edward vi., --mary--elizabeth--james i.--the puritans--the pilgrim fathers--christmas's lamentation--christ-tide in the navy, . only one is noted in the reign of edward vi., that of , of which holinshed writes, "wherefore, as well to remove fond talke out of men's mouths, as also to recreat and refresh the troubled spirits of the young king; who seemed to take the trouble of his uncle[ ] somewhat heavilie; it was devised, that the feast of christ's nativitie, commonlie called christmasse, then at hand, should be solemnlie kept at greenwich, with open houshold and frank resorte to court (which is called keeping of the hall), what time of old ordinarie course there is alwaies one appointed to make sport in the court, called commonlie lord of misrule: whose office is not unknowne to such as have beene brought up in noble men's houses, and among great house-keepers, which use liberall feasting in that season. there was, therefore, by orders of the councell, a wise gentleman, and learned, named george ferrers, appointed to that office for this yeare; who, being of better credit and estimation than commonlie his predecessors had beene before, received all his commissions and warrants by the name of the maister of the king's pastimes. which gentleman so well supplied his office, both in shew of sundrie sights and devises of rare inventions, and in act of diverse interludes, and matters of pastime plaied by persons, as not onely satisfied the common sort, but, also, were very well liked and allowed by the councell, and others of skill in the like pastimes; but, best of all, by the yoong king himselfe, as appeered by his princelie liberalitie in rewarding that service. [footnote : the duke of somerset had just been condemned to death, and was beheaded the nd january following.] "on mondaie, the fourth of januarie, the said lord of merie disports came by water to london, and landed at the tower wharffe, where he was received by vanse, lord of misrule to john mainard, one of the shiriffes of london, and so conducted through the citie with a great companie of yoong lords and gentlemen to the house of sir george barne, lord maior, where he, with the cheefe of his companie dined, and, after, had a great banket: and at his departure the lord maior gave him a standing cup with a cover of silver and guilt, of the value of ten pounds, for a reward, and also set a hogshed of wine, and a barrell of beere at his gate, for his traine that followed him. the residue of his gentlemen and servants dined at other aldermen's houses, and with the shiriffes, and then departed to the tower wharffe againe, and so to the court by water, to the great commendation of the maior and aldermen, and highlie accepted of the king and councell." mary does not seem to have kept up state christ-tide except on one occasion, the year after her marriage with philip, when a masque was performed before her. elizabeth continued the old tradition, but they are only mentioned and known by the expenses books. it is said that at christmas she was displeased with something in the play performed before her, and commanded the players to leave off. there was also a masque for her amusement on twelfth night. of james i.'s first christ-tide in england we have the following in a letter from the lady arabella stuart to the earl of shrewsbury, rd december :-- "the queen intendeth to make a mask this christmass, to which my lady of suffolk and my lady walsingham have warrants to take of the late queen's apparell out of the tower at their discretion. certain gentlemen, whom i may not yet name, have made me of theyr counsell, intend another. certain gentlemen of good sort another. it is said there shall be playes. the king will feast all the embassadours this christmass." the death of the infant princess mary in september did not interfere with james i. keeping christmas right royally in that year. there were masques and theatricals--nay, the king wanted a play acted on christmas night--and card-playing went on for high sums, the queen losing £ on the eve of twelfth night. it was, probably, the exceeding license of christ-tide that made the sour puritans look upon its being kept in remembrance, as vain and superstitious; at all events, whenever in their power, they did their best to crush it. take, for instance, the first christmas day after the landing of the so-called "pilgrim fathers" at plymouth rock in , and read the deliberate chilliness and studied slight of the whole affair, which was evidently more than the ship's master could bear. "munday, the day, we went on shore, some to fell tymber, some to saw, some to riue, and some to carry, so that no man rested all that day, but towards night, some, as they were at worke, heard a noyse of some indians, which caused vs all to goe to our muskets, but we heard no further, so we came aboord againe, and left some twentie to keepe the court of gard; that night we had a sore storme of winde and raine. munday the being christmas day, we began to drinke water aboord, but at night, the master caused vs to have some beere, and so on board we had diverse times now and then some beere, but on shore none at all." that this working on christmas day was meant as an intentional slight--for these pious gentlemen would not work on the sunday--is, i think, made patent by the notice by william bradford, of how they kept the following christmas. "one ye day called christmas-day, ye gov'r caled them out to worke (as was used), but ye most of this new company excused themselves, and said it went against their consciences to worke on ye day. so ye gov'r tould them that if they made it a mater of conscience, he would spare them till they were better informed. so he led away y^{e} rest, and left them: but when they came home at noone from their worke, he found them in ye streete at play, openly; some pitching ye barr, and some at stoole ball, and such like sports. so he went to them and tooke away their implements, and told them it was against his conscience that they should play, and others worke. if they made ye keeping of it matter of devotion, let them kepe their houses, but there should be no gameing or revelling in ye streets. since which time nothing hath been attempted that way, at least, openly." but we shall hear more of the puritans and christ-tide, only my scheme is to treat the season chronologically, and, consequently, there must be a slight digression; and the following ballad, which must have been published in the time of james i., because of the allusion to yellow starch (mrs. turner having been executed for the poisoning of sir thomas overbury in ), gives us christmas's lamentation christmas is my name, far have i gone, without regard; without regard. whereas great men by flocks there be flown, to london-ward--to london ward. there they in pomp and pleasure do waste that which old christmas was wonted to feast, well a day! houses where music was wont for to ring, nothing but bats and owlets do sing. well a day, well a day. well a day, where should i stay? christmas beef and bread is turn'd into stones, into stones and silken rags; and lady money sleeps and makes moans, and makes moans in misers' bags; houses where pleasures once did abound, nought but a dog and a shepherd is found, well a day! places where christmas revels did keep, now are become habitations for sheep. well a day, well a day, well a day, where should i stay? pan, the shepherds' god, doth deface, doth deface lady ceres' crown, and the tillage doth go to decay, to decay in every town; landlords their rents so highly enhance, that pierce, the ploughman, barefoot may dance; well a day! farmers that christmas would still entertain, scarce have wherewith themselves to maintain, well a day, etc. come to the countryman, he will protest, will protest, and of bull-beef boast; and, for the citizen, he is so hot, is so hot, he will burn the roast. the courtier, sure good deeds will not scorn, nor will he see poor christmas forlorn? well a day! since none of these good deeds will do, christmas had best turn courtier too, well a day, etc. pride and luxury they do devour, do devour house keeping quite; and soon beggary they do beget, do beget in many a knight. madam, forsooth, in her coach must wheel although she wear her hose out at heel, well a day! and on her back wear that for a weed, which me and all my fellows would feed. well a day, etc. since pride came up with the yellow starch, yellow starch--poor folks do want, and nothing the rich men will to them give, to them give, but do them taunt; for charity from the country is fled, and in her place hath nought left but need; well a day! and corn is grown to so high a price, it makes poor men cry with weeping eyes. well a day, etc. briefly for to end, here do i find, i do find so great a vocation, that most great houses seem to attain, to attain a strong purgation; where purging pills such effects they have shew'd, that forth of doors they their owners have spued; well a day! and where'er christmas comes by, and calls, nought now but solitary and naked walls. well a day, etc. philemon's cottage was turn'd into gold, into gold, for harbouring jove: rich men their houses up for to keep, for to keep, might their greatness move; but, in the city, they say, they do live, where gold by handfulls away they do give;-- i'll away, and thither, therefore, i purpose to pass, hoping at london to find the golden ass. i'll away, i'll away, i'll away, for here's no stay. a little light upon this ballad may possibly be found in a letter from john chamberlain to sir dudley carleton ( st december ):--"divers lords and personages of quality have made means to be dispensed withall for going into the country this christmas according to the proclamation; but it will not be granted, so that they pack away on all sides for fear of the worst." as we are now getting near the attempted suppression of christmas under the puritan _régime_, it may be as well to notice the extreme licence to which the season's holiday and festivities had reached--and perhaps a more flagrant case than the following can scarcely be given. on th january the commissioners of the navy write to the duke of buckingham that they have received information from persons who have been on board the _happy entrance_ in the downs, and the _nonsuch_ and _garland_ at gore-end, that for these christmas holidays, the captains, masters, boatswains, gunners, and carpenters, were not aboard their ships, nor gave any attendance to the service, leaving the ships a prey to any who might have assaulted them. the commissioners sent down clothes for the sailors, and there were no officers to take charge of them, and the pressed men ran away as fast as the commissioners sent them down. if they had beaten up and down, they might have prevented the loss of two english ships taken by the dunkirkers off yarmouth. this, naturally, was a state of things which could not be allowed, and on january the duke of buckingham wrote to sir henry palmer as to the officers and men quitting their ships at christmas time, and called upon him "presently to repair on board his own ship, and to charge the officers of all the ships composing his fleet, not to depart from their ships without order." chapter iv attempts of puritans to put down christ-tide--attitude of the people--preaching before parliament--"the arraignment, etc., of christmas." as soon as the puritans became at all powerful, their iconoclastic zeal naturally attacked christmas, and the scotchmen, such as baillie, rutherford, gillespie, and henderson, in the westminster assembly of divines, tried in to get the english observance of christmas abolished--but they only succeeded so far as coming to a resolution that whilst preaching on that day, "withal to cry down the superstition of that day." next year they were happier in their efforts, as is shortly told in _parliamentary history_, december , . "the lords and commons having long since appointed a day for a fast and humiliation, which was to be on the last wednesday in every month, it happening to fall on christmas day this month, the assembly of divine sent to acquaint the lords with it: and, to avoid any inconveniences that might be by some people keeping it as a feast, and others as a fast, they desired that the parliament would publish a declaration the next lord's day in the churches of london and westminster; that that day might be kept as it ought to be, that the whole kingdom might have comfort thereby. the houses agreed to this proposal, and directed the following ordinance to be published; which bore this title-- "an ordinance for the better observation of the feast of the nativity of christ. "whereas some doubts have been raised whether the next fast shall be celebrated, because it falleth on the day which, heretofore, was usually called the feast of the nativity of our saviour; the lords and commons do order and ordain that public notice be given, that the fast appointed to be kept on the last wednesday in every month, ought to be observed until it be otherwise ordered by both houses; and that this day particularly is to be kept with the more solemn humiliation, because it may call to remembrance our sins and the sins of our forefathers, who have turned this feast, pretending the memory of christ, into an extreme forgetfulness of him, by giving liberty to carnal and sensual delights; being contrary to the life which christ himself led here upon earth, and to the spiritual life of christ in our souls; for the sanctifying and saving whereof christ was pleased both to take a human life, and to lay it down again. "the lords ordered that the lord mayor of london take care that this ordinance should be dispersed to all churches and chapels, within the line of communication and the bills of mortality. afterwards it was made general through the kingdom; in consequence of which christmas day was no longer observed as a festival, by law, till the restoration." but the popular love of christmas could not be done away with by restrictive legislation, as the movers therein very well knew, _teste_ lightfoot, who, in his journal, says "some of our members were sent to the houses to desire them to give an order that the next fast day might be solemnly kept, because the people will be ready to neglect it, being christmas day." nor was anything neglected to repress this christ-tide, because its keeping was inbred in the people, and they hated this sour puritanical feeling, and the doing away with their accustomed festivities. richard kentish told the house of commons so in very plain language. said he: "the people of england do hate to be reformed; so now, a prelatical priest, with a superstitious service book, is more desired, and would be better welcome to the generality of england, than the most learned, laborious, conscientious preacher, whether presbyterian or independent. these poor simple creatures are mad after superstitious festivals, after unholy holidays." the houses of parliament baked their pie for themselves, and deservedly had to eat it; for two red hot gospellers, calamy and sedgewick, preached on the iniquity of keeping christ-tide to the lords in westminster abbey; whilst in the contiguous church of s. margaret, thorowgood and langley expatiated on the same theme to the commons, and, as if they could not have enough of so good a thing, _all four sermons were printed by order of the houses_. calamy in his sermon said, "this day is the day which is commonly called the feast of christ's nativity, or christmas day, a day that hath hitherto been much abused in superstition and profaneness. i have known some that have preferred christmas day before the lord's day, and have cried down the lord's day and cried up christmas day. i have known those that would be sure to receive the sacrament on christmas day though they did not receive it all the year after. this was the superstition of this day, and the profaneness was as great. there were some that did not play cards all the year long, yet they must play at christmas. this year, god, by a providence hath buried this feast in a fast, and i hope it will never rise again. you have set out, right honourable, a strict order for the keeping of it, and you are here to-day to observe your own order, and i hope you will do it strictly." and he finished with a prayer, in which he begged they might have grace "to be humbled, especially for the old superstition and profaneness of this feast." but although the english people were crushed for a time under the iron heel of the puritan boot, they had no sympathy with their masters, nor their ways--_vide_ the rebound, immediately after oliver cromwell's death, and the return to the old state of things, which has never altered since, except as a matter of fashion. yet, even then, there were protests against this effacement of christ-tide, and many have been handed down to us, differing naturally very much in style. one really amusing one has the merit of being short: and when the reader of this book has perused it, i believe he will thank me for having reproduced it. it is-- "the arraignment conviction and imprisonment of christmas on _s. thomas day_ last, and how he broke out of prison in the holidayes and got away, onely left his hoary hair, and gray beard, sticking between two iron bars of a window. with an hue and cry after christmas, and a letter from _mr. woodcock_, a fellow in oxford, to a malignant lady in london. and divers passages between the lady and the cryer, about old christmas: and what shift he was fain to make to save his life, and great stir to fetch him back again. with divers other witty passages. printed by _simon minc'd pye_, for _cissely plum-porridge_; and are to be sold by _ralph fidler_, chandler, at the signe of the _pack of cards_ in _mustard-alley_, in _brawn street_. ." this little tract commenced with the supposed letter, "lady, "_i beseech you, for the love of oxford, hire a cryer (i will see him paid for his paines), to cry old father christmas, and keep him with you (if you can meet with him, and stay him), till we come to london, for we expect to be there shortly, and then we will have all things as they were wont, i warrant you; hold up your spirits, and let not your old friends be lost out of your favour, for his sake, who is_ "your ever servant, "jo. woodcock. "_lady_--honest crier, i know thou knewest old father christmas; i am sent to thee from an honest schollar of oxford (that hath given me many a hug and kisse in christmasse time when we have been merry) to cry christmas, for they hear that he is gone from hence, and that we have lost the poor old man; you know what marks he hath, and how to cry him. "_cryer_--who shall pay me for my paines? "_lady_--your old friend, _mr. woodcock_, of oxford. wilt thou take his word? "_cryer_--i will cry him, i warrant you, through the citie and countrie, and it shall go hard but i will finde him out; i can partly ghesse who can tell some newes of him, if any people in england can, for i am acquainted with all his familiar friends. trust me in this businesse, i will bring you word within fewe dayes. _ho-o-o-o-o-o-o yes, ho-o-o-o-o-o yes, ho-o-o-o-o-o yes;_ any man or woman, whether popish or prelaticall, superstitious or judaicall, or what person so ever, of any tribe or trullibub,[ ] that can give any knowledge, or tell any tidings of an old, old, old, very old, grey-bearded gentleman, called christmas, who was wont to be a verie familiar ghest, and visite all sorts of people, both poor and rich, and used to appear in glittering gold silk and silver in the court, and in all shapes in the theater in whitehall, and had ringing feasts and jollitie in all places, both in the citie and countrie for his comming; if you went to the temple, you might have found him there at in and in, till many a gentleman had outed all the mony from his pocket, and after all, the butlers found him locked up in their boxes: and in almost every house, you might have found him at cards and dice, the very boyes and children could have traced him and the beggers have followed him from place to place, and seen him walking up and downe, and in every house roast beefe and mutton, pies and plum-porrige, and all manner of delicates round about him, and every one saluting merry christmas: if you had gone to the queene's chappel, you might have found him standing against the wall, and the papists weeping, and beating themselves before him, and kissing his hoary head with superstitious teares, in a theater exceeding all the plays of the bull, the fortune, and the cock-pit. [footnote : this word has an indefinite meaning. sometimes it is synonymous with entrails--as "tripes and trullibubs"; sometimes it is meant for something very trifling, and then is occasionally spelt "trillibubs." why introduced here, no one can tell.] "for age, this hoarie headed man was of great yeares, and as white as snow; he entred the romish kallender time out of mind; is old, or very neer, as _father mathusalem_ was; one that looked fresh in the bishops' time, though their fall made him pine away ever since; he was full and fat as any dumb docter of them all. he looked under the consecrated laune sleeves as big as bul-beefe--just like bacchus upon a tunne of wine, when the grapes hang shaking about his eares; but, since the catholike liquor is taken from him, he is much wasted, so that he hath looked very thin and ill of late; but the wanton women that are so mad after him, do not know how he is metamorphised, so that he is not now like himselfe, but rather like jack-a-lent. "but yet some other markes that you may know him by, is that the wanton women dote after him; he helped them to so many new gownes, hatts, and hankerches, and other fine knacks, of which he hath a pack on his back, in which is good store of all sorts, besides the fine knacks that he got out of their husbands' pockets for household provisions for him. he got prentises, servants, and schollars many play dayes, and therefore was well beloved by them also, and made all merry with bagpipes, fiddles, and other musicks, giggs, dances, and mummings, yea, the young people had more merry dayes and houres before him whilst he stayd, which was in some houses dayes, in some , in some more, in some lesse, than in all the yeare againe." * * * * * "all you, therefore, that by your diligent inquirie, can tell me anie tidings of this ould man called christmas, and tell me where he may be met withall; whether in any of your streets, or elsewhere, though in never so straitned a place; in an applewoman's staul or grocer's curren tub, in a cooke's oven or the maide's porrige pot, or crept into some corner of a translater's shop, where the cobler was wont so merrily to chant his carolls; whosoever can tel what is become of him, or where he may be found, let them bring him back againe into england, to the crier, and they shall have a benediction from the pope, an hundred oaths from the cavaliers, kisses from the wanton wenches, and be made pursevant to the next arch bishop. malignants will send him a piece of braune, and everie prentice boy will give him his point (? _pint of wine_) next holie thursday, the good wives will keepe him in some corners of their mince pies, and the new nuncio ireland will returne him to be canonized the next reformation of the calender. "_and so pope save christmas._ "_cryer_--lady, i am come to tell you what returne i can make you of the crying of old father christmas, which i have done, and am now here to give you an answer. "_lady_--well said, honest cryer, mr. woodcock will remember you for it. "_cryer_--the poor old man upon st. thomas his day was arraigned, condemned, and after conviction cast into prison amongst the king's souldiers; fearing to be hanged, or some other execution to be done upon him, and got out at so narrow a passage, between two iron bars of a window, that nothing but onely his old gray beard and hoarie haire of his head stuck there, but nothing else to be seen of him; and, if you will have that, compound for it, lest it be sold among the sequestred goods, or burnt with the next popish pictures, by the hand of the hangman. "_lady_--but is old, old, good old christmas gone? nothing but the hair of his good, grave old head and beard left! well i will have that, seeing i cannot have more of him, one lock whereof will serve _mr. woodcock_ for a token. but what is the event of his departure? "_cryer_--the poor are sory for it, for they go to every door a-begging as they were wont to do (_good mrs., somewhat against this good time_); but time was transformed (_away, begone, here is not for you_); and so they, instead of going to the ale-house to be drunk, were fain to work all the holidayes. the schollers came into the hall, where their hungry stomacks had thought to have found good brawn and christmas pies, roast beef and plum-porridge; but no such matter. away, ye prophane, these are superstitious meats; your stomacks must be fed with wholesome doctrine. alas, poor tallow-faced chandlers, i met them mourning through the streets, and complaining that they could get no vent for their mustard, for want of brawn. "_lady_--well, if ever the catholiques or bishops rule again in england, they will set the church dores open on christmas day, and we shall have masse at the high altar, as was used when the day was first instituted, and not have the holy eucharist barred out of school, as school boyes do their masters against the festival![ ] what! shall we have our mouths shut to welcome old christmas? no, no, bid him come by night over the thames, and we will have a back door open to let him in. i will, myself, give him his diet for one year, to try his fortune this time twelve month, it may prove better." [footnote : this saturnalia of barring out the schoolmaster at christmas--just before breaking up--was in use certainly as late as . vide _notes and queries_, th series, vol. vi. p. .] chapter v the popular love of christmas--riots at ealing and canterbury--evelyn's christmas days, ' ' ' ' --cromwell and christ-tide--the restoration--pepys and christmas day, --"the examination and tryal of old father christmas." and this was the general feeling. parliament might sit, as we learn by _the kingdome's weekly intelligencer_, no. : "thursday, december , vulgarly known by the name of christmas day, both houses sate. the house of commons, more especially, debated some things in reference to the privileges of that house, and made some orders therein." but the mass of the people quietly protested against this way of ignoring christ-tide, and notwithstanding the assembly of divines and parliament, no shops were open in london on that day, in spite of the article published in no. of _mercurius civicus, or london's intelligencer_, which explained the absurdity of keeping christmas day, and ordained that all shops should be opened, and that the shopkeepers should see that their apprentices were at work on that day. if they needed a holiday, "let them keep the fift of november, and other dayes of that nature, or the late great mercy of god in the taking of hereford, which deserves an especiall day of thanks giving." it would not so much have mattered if all the puritans had followed the example of george fox, the founder of quakerism, who, "when the time called christmas came, when others were feasting and sporting themselves, went from house to house seeking out the poor and desolate, and giving them money." parliament, although they did their best by public example to do away with it, sitting every christmas day from to , could not extinguish the deep-rooted feeling in favour of its being kept up in the old-fashioned way, and, in london, at christmas , those who opened their shops were very roughly used, so much so that in they asked the parliament to protect them in future. certainly, in that year, the shops were all closed, but the irrepressible love of christmas could not be controlled, and the porters of cornhill bedecked the conduit with "ivy, rosmary, and bays," and similar decorations were exhibited in other parts of the city--a proceeding which sorely exercised the lord mayor and the city marshal, who rode about, with their followings, setting fire to the harmless green stuff--the doing of which occasioned great mirth among the royalist party. there were riots about the keeping of christmas in several parts of the country--notably one at ealing, in middlesex; but there was a famous one at canterbury,[ ] the particulars of which are given in a short tract, which i here reprint, as it shows the feeling in the country: [footnote : "canterbury christmas; or, a true relation of the insurrection in canterbury on christmas day last, with the great hurt that befell divers persons thereby."] "upon wednesday, _decem._ , the cryer of _canterbury_ by the appointment of master _major_,[ ] openly proclaimed that christmas day, and all other superstitious festivals should be put downe, and that a market should be kept upon _christmas day_. [footnote : mayor.] "which not being observed (but very ill taken by the country) the towne was thereby unserved with provision, and trading very much hindered; which occasioned great discontent among the people, caused them to rise in a rebellious way. "the _major_ being slighted, and his commands observed only of a few who opened their shops, to the number of at the most: they were commanded by the multitude to shut up again, but refusing to obey, their ware was thrown up and down, and they, at last, forced to shut in. "the _major_ and his assistants used their best endeavours to qualifie this tumult, but the fire being once kindled, was not easily quenched. "the _sheriffe_ laying hold of a fellow, was stoutly resisted; which the _major_ perceiving, took a cudgell, and strook the man: who, being now puny, pulled up his courage, and knockt down the _major_, whereby his cloak was much torne and durty, besides the hurt he received. "the _major_ hereupon made strict proclamation for keeping the peace, and that every man depart to his own house. "the multitude hollowing thereat, in disorderly manner; the _aldermen_ and _constables_ caught two or three of the rout, and sent them to the jaile, but they soon broke loose, and jeered master _alderman_. "soone after, issued forth the commanders of this rabble, with an addition of souldiers, into the high street, and brought with them two foot-balls, whereby their company increased. which the _major_ and _aldermen_ perceiving, took what prisoners they had got, and would have carried them to the jayle. but the multitude following after to the _king's bench_, were opposed by captain _bridg_, who was straight knoct down, and had his head broke in two places, not being able to withstand the multitude, who, getting betwixt him and the jayle, rescued their fellowes, and beat the _major_ and _aldermen_ into their houses, and then cried _conquest_. "where, leaving them to breath a while, they went to one _white's_, a barber (a man noted to be a busie fellow), whose windowes they pulled downe to the ground: the like they did to divers others, till night overtook them, and they were forced to depart, continuing peaceable the next day, it being the saboth. "on _munday_ morning, the multitude comming, the major set a strong watch with muskets and holbards in the city, both at the gates and at _s. andrews_ church, the captaine of the guard was _white_ the barber. "till noon, they were quiet, then came one _joyce_, a hackney man, whom _white_ bid stand, the fellow asked what the matter was, and withall called him _roundhead_; whereat _white_ being moved, cocked his pistoll and would have shot him, but the major wisht him to hold: neverthelesse he shot, and the fellow fell down, but was not dead. whence arose a sudden clamour that a man was murdered, whereupon the people came forth with clubs, and the _major_ and _aldermen_ made haste away; the towne rose againe, and the country came in, took possession of the gates, and made enquiry for _white_; they found him in a hay loft, where they broke his head, and drag'd him in the streets, setting open the prison dores and releasing those that were in hold. "next, they vowed vengeance on the _major_, pulling up his posts, breaking his windowes; but, at last, being perswaded by sir _william man_, master _lovelise_, master _harris_, and master _purser_, had much adoe to persuade them from taking of his person; so came tumultuously into the high street, and their demands were so high, that those gentlemen could not perswade them. afterward, meeting master _burly_, the town clark, demanded the keyes of the prison from him, which, being granted, they, with those gentlemen formerly named, went again to the town hall to treat, and came to an agreement, which was, that forty or fifty of their own men should keep the town that night, being compleatly armed, which being performed (the morning issued) and they continued in arms till tuesday morning: there are none as yet dead, but diverse dangerously hurt. "master _sheriffe_ taking _white's_ part, and striving to keep the peace, was knockt down, and his head fearfully broke; it was god's mercy his braines were not beat out, but it should seem he had a clung[ ] pate of his own. [footnote : tough or strong.] "they went also without s. _george's_ gate, and did much injury to mr. _lee_. "as i am credibly informed, the injuries done are these. "they have beat down all the windowes of mr. _major's_ house, burnt the stoups at the comming in of his dore, master _reeves'_ windowes were broke, master _page_, and master _pollen_, one _buchurst_, captaine _bridge_, _thomas harris_, a busie prating fellow, and others were sorely wounded. "it is ordered that _richard white_ and _robert hues_, being in fetters, be tryed according to the law, and upon faire composition, the multitude have delivered their armes into the hands of the city, upon engagements of the best of the city that no man shall further question or trouble them." on this christmas day, parliament,[ ] "on saturday, december th, commonly called christmas day, received some complaints of the countenancing of malignant ministers in some parts of london, where they preach and use the common prayer book, contrary to the order of parliament, and some delinquent ministers have power given them to examine and punish churchwardens, sequestrators, and others that do countenance delinquent ministers to preach, and commit them, if they see cause; upon which some were taken into custody." one instance of this is given in whitelocke's _memorials_ (p. ). "mr. harris, a churchwarden of st. martius, ordered to be committed for bringing delinquents to preach there, and to be displaced from his office of churchwarden." [footnote : rushworth's _historical collections_, pt. iv. vol. ii. p. .] and so it went on, the parliament and nonconformists doing their best to suppress christ-tide, and the populace stubbornly refusing to submit, as is shown in a letter from sir thomas gower to mr. john langley, on december , .[ ] "there is little worth writing, most of the time being spent in endeavouring to take away the esteem held of christmas day, to which end, order was made that whoever would open shops should be protected by the state; yet i heard of no more than two who did so, and one of them had better have given £ , his wares were so dirtyed; and secondly, that no sermons should be preached, which was observed (for aught i hear) save at lincoln's inn." [footnote : hist. mss. commission reports, v. p. .] evelyn, who was a staunch episcopalian, writes in deep despondency as to the keeping of christ-tide. " , dec. , christmas day, no sermon any where, no church being permitted to be open, so observed it at home. the next day, we went to lewisham, where an honest divine preached." " , dec. , christmas-day. no churches, or public assembly. i was fain to pass the devotions of that blessed day with my family at home." " , dec. , christmas-day. no public offices in churches, but penalties on observers, so as i was constrained to celebrate it at home." on november , , cromwell promulgated an edict, prohibiting all ministers of the church of england from preaching or teaching in any schools, and evelyn sadly notes the fact. "dec. . there was no more notice taken of christmas day in churches. i went to london, where dr. wild preached the funeral sermon of preaching,[ ] this being the last day; after which, cromwell's proclamation was to take place, that none of the church of england should dare either to preach, or administer sacraments, teach school, etc., on pain of imprisonment or exile. so this was the mournfullest day that in my life i had seen, or the church of england herself, since the reformation; to the great rejoicing of both papist and presbyter. so pathetic was his discourse, that it drew many tears from the auditory. myself, wife, and some of our family received the communion: god make me thankful, who hath hitherto provided for us the food of our souls as well as bodies! the lord jesus pity our distressed church, and bring back the captivity of zion!" [footnote : his text was cor. xiii. .] his next recorded christ-tide was an eventful one for him, and he thus describes it: " , dec. . i went to london with my wife to celebrate christmas day, mr. gunning preaching in exeter chapel, on michah vii. . sermon ended, as he was giving us the holy sacrament, the chapel was surrounded with soldiers, and all the communicants and assembly surprised and kept prisoners by them, some in the house, others carried away. it fell to my share to be confined to a room in the house, where yet i was permitted to dine with the master of it, the countess of dorset, lady hatton, and some others of quality who invited me. in the afternoon, came colonel whalley, goffe, and others, from whitehall, to examine us one by one; some they committed to the marshal, some to prison. when i came before them, they took my name and abode, examined me why, contrary to the ordinance made, that none should any longer observe the superstitious time of the nativity (so esteemed by them), i durst offend, and particularly be at common prayers, which they told me was but the mass in english, and particularly pray for charles stuart, for which we had no scripture. i told them we did not pray for charles stuart, but for all christian kings, princes, and governors. they replied, in doing so we prayed for the king of spain, too, who was their enemy, and a papist, with other frivolous and ensnaring questions and much threatening; and, finding no colour to detain me, they dismissed me with much pity of my ignorance. these were men of high flight and above ordinances, and spake spiteful things of our lord's nativity. as we went up to receive the sacrament, the miscreants held their muskets against us, as if they would have shot us at the altar, but yet suffering us to finish the office of the communion, as, perhaps, not having instructions what to do, in case they found us in that action. so i got home late the next day: blessed be god!" cromwell himself seems to have been somewhat ashamed of these persecutions and severities, for[ ] ( th december ) "some congregations being met to observe this day, according to former solemnity, and the _protector_ being moved that souldiers might be sent to repress them, he advised against it, as that which was contrary to the _liberty of conscience_ so much owned and pleaded for by the _protector_ and his friends; but, it being contrary to ordinances of parliament (which were also opposed in the passing of them) that these days should be so solemnized, the _protector_ gave way to it, and those meetings were suppressed by the souldiers." [footnote : whitelock's _memorials_, ed. , p. .] but his life was drawing to a close, and with the restoration of the king came also that of christ-tide, and there was no longer any need of concealment, as pepys tells us how he spent his christmas day in . "had a pleasant walk to white hall, where i intended to have received the communion with the family, but i came a little too late. so i walked up into the house, and spent my time looking over pictures, particularly the ships in king henry the viii.ths voyage to bullaen; marking the great difference between those built then and now. by and by down to the chapel again, where bishop morley[ ] preached upon the song of the angels, 'glory to god on high, on earth peace, and good will towards men.' methought he made but a poor sermon, but long, and, reprehending the common jollity of the court for the true joy that shall and ought to be on these days; he particularized concerning their excess in playes and gaming, saying that he whose office it is to keep the gamesters in order and within bounds, serves but for a second rather in a duell, meaning the groome-porter. upon which it was worth observing how far they are come from taking the reprehensions of a bishop seriously, that they all laugh in the chapel when he reflected on their ill actions and courses. he did much press us to joy in these public days of joy, and to hospitality; but one that stood by whispered in my eare that the bishop do not spend one groate to the poor himself. the sermon done, a good anthem followed with vialls, and the king come down to receive the sacrament. but i staid not, but, calling my boy from my lord's lodgings, and giving sarah some good advice, by my lord's order, to be sober, and look after the house, i walked home again with great pleasure, and there dined by my wife's bed side with great content, having a mess of brave plum-porridge and a roasted pullet for dinner, and i sent for a mince pie abroad, my wife not being well, to make any herself yet." [footnote : bishop of winchester, died .] the popular love of christmas is well exemplified in a little mo book, printed in , entitled "the examination and tryal of old father christmas; together with his clearing by the jury, at the assizes held at the town of _difference_, in the county of _discontent_." the jury was evidently a packed one. "then saith the _clerk_ to the _cryer_, count them--_starve-mouse_, one, _all-pride_, two, _keep-all_, three, _love-none_, four, _eat-alone_, five, _give-little_, six, _hoard-corn_, seven, _grutch-meat_, eight, _knit-gut_, nine, _serve-time_, ten, _hate-good_, eleven, _cold-kitchen_, twelve. "then saith the _cryer_, all you bountiful gentlemen of the jury, answer to your names, and stand together, and hear your charge. "with that there was such a lamentable groan heard, enough to turn ice into ashes, which caused the _judge_, and the rest of the bench, to demand what the matter was; it was replied that the grave old gentleman, _christmas_, did sound (_swoon_) at the naming of the jury; then it was commanded that they should give him air, and comfort him up, so that he might plead for himself: and here, i cannot pass by in silence, the love that was expressed by the country people, some shreeking and crying for the old man; others striving to hold him up, others hugging him, till they had almost broke the back of him, others running for cordials and strong waters, insomuch that, at last they had called back his wandring spirits, which were ready to take their last farewel." christmas challenged this jury, and another was empanelled consisting of messrs _love-friend_, _hate-strife_, _free-man_, _cloath-back_, _warm-gut_, _good-work_, _neighbour-hood_, _open-house_, _scorn-use_, _soft-heart_, _merry-man_, and _true-love_. his indictment was as follows: "_christmas_, thou art here indicted by the name of _christmas_, of the town of _superstition_, in the county of _idolatry_, and that thou hast, from time to time, abused the people of this common-wealth, drawing and inticing them to drunkenness, gluttony, and unlawful gaming, wantonness, uncleanness, lasciviousness, cursing, swearing, abuse of the creatures, some to one vice, and some to another; all to idleness: what sayest thou to thy inditement, guilty or not guilty? he answered, not guilty, and so put himself to the trial." after the witnesses against him were heard, christmas was asked what he could say in his defence. "_judge._--old _christmas_, hold up thy head, and speak for thy self. thou hast heard thy inditement, and also what all these witnesses have evidenced against thee; what sayest thou now for thy self, that sentence of condemnation should not be pronounced against thee? "_christmas._--good my lord, be favourable to an old man, i am above one thousand six hundred years old, and was never questioned at sizes or sessions before: my lord, look on these white hairs, are they not a crown of glory?... "and first, my lord, i am wronged in being indited by a wrong name, i am corruptly called _christmas_, my name is _christ-tide_ or time. "and though i generally come at a set time, yet i am with him every day that knows how to use me. "my lord, let the records be searcht, and you shall find that the angels rejoyced at my coming, and sung _gloria in excelsis_; the patriarchs and prophets longed to see me. "the fathers have sweetly imbraced me, our modern divines all comfortably cherisht me; o let me not be despised now i'm old. is there not an injunction in _magna charta_, that commands men to inquire for the old way, which is the good way; many good deeds do i do, o, why do the people hate me? we are commanded to be given to hospitality, and this hath been my practice from my youth upward: i come to put men in mind of their redemption, to have them love one another, to impart with something here below, that they may receive more and better things above; the wise man saith _there is a time for all things_, and why not for thankfulness? i have been the cause that at my coming, ministers have instructed the people every day in publick, telling the people how they should use me, and other delights, not to effeminate, or corrupt the mind, and bid them abhor those pleasures from which they should not rise bettered, and that they should by no means turn pass-time into trade: and if that at any time they have stept an inch into excess, to punish themselves for it, and be ever after the more careful to keep within compass. "and did also advise them to manage their sports without passion; they would also tell the people that their feasts should not be much more than nature requires, and grace moderates; not pinching, nor pampering; and whereas they say that i am the cause they sit down to meat, and rise up again graceless, they abundantly wrong me: i have told them that before any one should put his hand in the dish, he should look up to the owner, and hate to put one morsel in his mouth unblessed: i tell them they ought to give thanks for that which is paid for already, knowing that neither the meat, nor the mouth, nor the man, are of his own making: i bid them fill their bellies, not their eyes, and rise from the board, not glutted, but only satisfied, and charge them to have a care that their guts be no hindrances to their brains or hands, and that they should not lose themselves in their feasts, but bid them be soberly merry, and wisely free. i also advise them to get friendly thrift to be there caterer, and temperance to carve at the board, and be very watchful that obscenity, detraction and scurrility be banisht the table; but let their discourse be as savoury as the meat, and so feed as though they did live to eat, and, at last, rise as full of thankfulness, as of food; this hath, this is, and this shall be my continual practice. "now, concerning the particulars that these folks charge me with, i cannot answer them, because i do not remember them; my memory is but weak, as old men's use to be; but, methinks, they seem to be the seed of the dragon; they send forth of their mouths whole floods of impious inventions against me, and lay to my charge things which i am not guilty of, which hath caused some of my friends to forsake me, and look upon me as a stranger: my brother _good-works_ broke his heart when he heard on it, my sister _charity_ was taken with the numb-palsie, so that she cannot stretch out her hand...." counsel was heard for him as well as witnesses examined on his behalf, and the jury "brought him in, _not guilty_, with their own judgement upon it. that he who would not fully celebrate _christmas_ should forfeit his estate. the judge being a man of old integrity, was very well pleased, and _christmas_ was released with a great deal of triumph and exaltation." chapter vi commencement of christ-tide--"o sapientia!"--st. thomas's day--william the conqueror and the city of york--providing for christmas fare--charities of food--bull-baiting--christ-tide charities--going "a-thomassing," etc.--superstitions of the day. we take it for granted that in the old times, when christ-tide was considered so great a festival as to be accorded a novena--that it began on the th december, when, according to the use of sarum, the antiphon "o sapientia," is sung. this, as before stated, is pointed out plainly in our english church calendar, which led to a curious mistake on the part of dr. ellicott, bishop of gloucester and bristol, who on one occasion described it as the _festival_ of "o sapientia." the other antiphons which are sung between the th december and christmas eve are "o adonai," "o radix jesu," "o clavis david," "o oriens splendor," "o rex gentium," and "o emmanuel," and they are commonly called the o's. but, beyond its being lawful to eat mince pies on the th december, i know of nothing noteworthy on the days intervening between that date and the festival of st. thomas on the st december, which is, or was, celebrated in different parts of the country, with some very curious customs. the earliest i can find of these is noted by drake in his _eboracum_,[ ] and he says he took the account from a ms. which came into his possession. [footnote : ed. , p. .] "william the conqueror, on the third year of his reign (on st. thomas's day), laid siege to the city of york; but, finding himself unable, either by policy or strength, to gain it, raised the siege, which he had no sooner done but by accident he met with two fryers at a place called skelton, not far from york, and had been to seek reliefe for their fellows and themselves against christmas: the one having a wallet full of victualls and a shoulder of mutton in his hand, with two great cakes hanging about his neck; the other having bottles of ale, with provisions, likewise of beife and mutton in his wallett. "the king, knowing their poverty and condition, thought they might be serviceable to him towards the attaining york, wherefore (being accompanied with sir john fothergill, general of the field, a norman born), he gave them money, and withall a promise that, if they would lett him and his soldiers into their priory at a time appointed, he would not only rebuild their priory, but indowe it likewise with large revenues and ample privileges. the fryers easily consented, and the conqueror as soon sent back his army, which, that night, according to agreement, were let into the priory by the two fryers, by which they immediately made themselves masters of all york; after which sir robert clifford, who was governor thereof, was so far from being blamed by the conqueror for his stout defence made the preceding days, that he was highly esteemed and rewarded for his valour, being created lord clifford, and there knighted, with the four magistrates then in office--viz., horongate, talbot (who after came to be lord talbott), lassells, and erringham. "the arms of the city of york at that time was, _argent_, a cross, _gules_, viz. st. george's cross. the conqueror charged the cross with five lyons, passant gardant, _or_, in memory of the five worthy captains, magistrates, who governed the city so well, that he afterwards made sir robert clifford governour thereof, and the other four to aid him in counsell; and, the better to keep the city in obedience, he built two castles, and double-moated them about; and, to shew the confidence and trust he put in these old but new-made officers by him, he offered them freely to ask whatsoever they would of him before he went, and he would grant their request; wherefore they (abominating the treachery of the two fryers to their eternal infamy), desired that, on st. thomas's day, for ever, they might have a fryer of the priory of st. peter's to ride through the city on horseback, with his face to the horse's tayle: and that, in his hand, instead of a bridle, he should have a rope, and in the other a shoulder of mutton, with one cake hanging on his back and another on his breast, with his face painted like a jew; and the youth of the city to ride with him, and to cry and shout 'youl, youl!' with the officers of the city riding before and making proclamation, that on this day the city was betrayed; and their request was granted them; which custom continued till the dissolution of the said fryory; and afterwards, in imitation of the same, the young men and artizans of the city, on the aforesaid st. thomas's day, used to dress up one of their own companions like a fryer, and call him youl, which custom continued till within these threescore years, there being many now living which can testify the same. but upon what occasion since discontinued, i cannot learn; this being done in memory of betraying the city by the said fryers to william the conqueror." st. thomas's day used to be utilised in laying in store of food at christ-tide for the purpose of properly keeping the feast of the nativity. in the isle of man it was the custom for the people to go on that day to the mountains in order to capture deer and sheep for the feast; and at night bonfires blazed on the summit of every "fingan," or cliff, to provide for which, at the time of casting peats, every person put aside a large one, saying, "faaid mooar moaney son oie'l fingan"--that is, _a large turf for fingan's eve_. beef was sometimes left to the parish by deceased benefactors, as in the case of boteler's bull charity at biddenham, bedfordshire, of which edwards says:[ ] "this is an ancient annual payment of £ out of an estate at biddenham, formerly belonging to the family of boteler, and now the property of lord viscount hampden, which is due and regularly paid on st. thomas's day to the overseers of the poor, and is applicable by the terms of the original gift (of which no written memorial is to be found), or by long-established usage, to the purchase of a bull, which is killed and the flesh thereof given among the poor persons of the parish. [footnote : _a collection of old english customs and curious bequests and charities_, london, , p. .] "for many years past, the annual fund being insufficient to purchase a bull, the deficiency has been made good out of other charities belonging to the parish. it was proposed some years ago by the vicar that the £ a year should be laid out in buying meat, but the poor insisted on the customary purchase of a bull being continued, and the usage is, accordingly, kept up. the price of the bull has varied of late years from £ to £ . the churchwardens, overseers, and principal inhabitants assist at the distribution of the meat." he gives another instance[ ] of a gift of beef and barley at nevern, pembrokeshire: "william rogers, by will, june , gave to the minister and churchwardens of nevern and their successors £ three per cent. consols, to be transferred by his executors within six months after his decease; and it was his will that the dividends should be laid out annually, one moiety thereof in good beef, the other moiety in good barley, the same to be distributed on every st. thomas's day in every year by the minister and churchwardens, to and among the poor of the said parish of nevern. [footnote : _a collection of old english customs and curious bequests and charities_, london, , p. .] "after the payment of £ to a solicitor in london, and a small amount for a stamp and postage, the dividends (£ ) are expended in the purchase of beef and barley, which is distributed by the churchwarden on st december to all the poor of the parish, in shares of between two and three gallons of barley, and between two and three pounds of beef." yet another example of christmas beef for the poor--this time rather an unpleasant one:[ ] "the cruel practice of bull-baiting was continued annually on st. thomas's day in the quaint old town of wokingham, berks, so lately as . in , upon the passing of the act against cruelty to animals, the corporation resolved on abolishing the custom. the alderman (as the chief magistrate is called there) went with his officers in procession and solemnly pulled up the bull-ring, which had, from immemorial time been fixed in the market-place. the bull-baiting was regarded with no ordinary attachment by 'the masses'; for, besides the love of 'sport,' however barbarous, it was here connected with something more solid--the christmas dinner. [footnote : _notes and queries_, second series, v. .] "in , george staverton gave by will, out of his staines house, four pounds to buy a bull for the use of the poor of wokingham parish, to be increased to six pounds after the death of his wife and her daughter; the bull to be baited, and then cut up, 'one poor's piece not exceeding another's in bigness.' staverton must have been an amateur of the bull-bait; for he exhorts his wife, if she can spare her four pounds a-year, to let the poor have the bull at christmas next after his decease, and so forward. "great was the wrath of the populace in at the loss, not of the beef--for the corporation duly distributed the meat--but of the baiting. they vented their rage for successive years in occasional breaches of the peace. they found out--often informed by the sympathising farmer or butcher--where the devoted animal was domiciled; proceeded at night to liberate him from stall or meadow, and to chase him across the country with all the noisy accompaniments imaginable. so long was this feeling kept alive, that thirteen years afterwards--viz. in --the mob broke into the place where one of the two animals to be divided was abiding, and baited him, in defiance of the authorities, in the market-place; one enthusiastic amateur, tradition relates, actually lying on the ground and seizing the miserable brute by the nostril, _more canino_, with his own human teeth! this was not to be endured, and a sentence of imprisonment in reading gaol gave the _coup de grace_ to the sport. the bequest of staverton now yields an income of £ , and has for several years past been appropriated to the purchase of two bulls. the flesh is divided, and distributed annually on st. thomas's day, by the alderman, churchwardens, and overseers to nearly every poor family (between and ), without regard to their receiving parochial relief. the produce of the offal and hides is laid out in the purchase of shoes and stockings for the poor women and children. the bulls' tongues are recognised by courtesy as the perquisites of the alderman and town-clerk." but there were other kindly gifts to the poor, _vide_ one at farnsfield, nottinghamshire, where samuel higgs,[ ] by his will dated may , (as appears from the church tablet), gave £ to the vicar and churchwardens of this parish, and directed that the interest should be given every year on st december, in equal proportions, to ten poor men and women who could repeat the lord's prayer, the creed, and the ten commandments before the vicar or such other person as he should appoint to hear them. the interest is applied according to the donor's orders, and the poor persons appointed to partake of the charity continue to receive it during their lives. [footnote : _edwards_, p. .] take another case, at tainton, oxfordshire,[ ] where a quarter of barley meal is provided annually at the expense of lord dynevor, the lord of the manor, and made into loaves called cobbs. these used to be given away in tainton church to such of the poor children of burford as attended. a sermon is preached on st. thomas's day, according to directions supposed to be contained in the will of edmund harman, s. d. being also paid out of lord dynevor's estate to the preacher. the children used to make so much riot and disturbance in the church, that about it was thought better to distribute the cobbs in a stable belonging to one of the churchwardens, and this course has been pursued ever since. [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] at slindon, sussex,[ ] a sum of £ was placed in the arundel savings bank, in the year , the interest of which is distributed on st. thomas's day. it is said that this money was found many years since on the person of a beggar, who died by the roadside, and the interest of it has always been appropriated by the parish officers for the use of the poor. [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] where these gifts were not distributed, as a rule, the poor country folk went round begging for something wherewith to keep the festival of christ-tide; and for this they can scarcely be blamed, for agricultural wages were very low, and mostly paid in kind, so that the labourer could never lay by for a rainy day, much less have spare cash to spend in festivity. feudality was not wholly extinct, and they naturally leaned upon their richer neighbours for help--especially at this season of rejoicing throughout all england--a time of feasting ever since the saxon rule. so, following the rule of using st. thomas's day as the day for providing the necessaries for the christmas feast, they went about from farm-house to mansion soliciting gifts of food. in some parts, as in derbyshire, this was called "going a-thomassing," and the old and young folks would come home laden with gifts of milk, cheese, wheat, with which to make furmity or furmenty, oatmeal, flour, potatoes, mince pies, pigs' puddings, or pork pies, and other goodies. this collection went by the same name in cheshire and neighbouring counties, where the poor generally carried a bag and a can into which they might put the flour, meal, or corn that might be given them. in other places, such as northamptonshire, kent, sussex, herefordshire, worcestershire, it went under the name of "going a gooding," and in some cases the benefactions were acknowledged by a return present of a sprig of holly or mistletoe or a bunch of primroses. in some parts of herefordshire they "called a spade a spade," and called this day "mumping," or begging day; and in warwickshire, where they principally received presents of corn, it was termed "going-a-corning"; and in that home of orchards worcestershire, this rhyme used to be sung-- wissal, wassail through the town, if you've got any apples throw them down; up with the stocking, and down with the shoe, if you've got no apples money will do. the jug is white, and the ale is brown, this is the best house in the town. "cuthbert bede" (the rev. edward bradley) writes[ ]--"in the staffordshire parish whence i write, s. thomas's day is observed thus:--not only do the old women and widows, but representatives also from each poorer family in the parish, come round for alms. the clergyman is expected to give one shilling to each person, and, as no 'reduction is made on taking a quantity' of recipients, he finds the celebration of the day attended with no small expense. some of the parishioners give alms in money, others in kind. thus, some of the farmers give corn, which the miller grinds _gratis_. the day's custom is termed 'gooding.' in neighbouring parishes no corn is given, the farmers giving money instead; and in some places the money collected is placed in the hands of the clergyman and churchwardens, who, on the sunday nearest to s. thomas's day, distribute it at the vestry. the fund is called s. thomas's dole, and the day itself is termed doleing day." [footnote : _notes and queries_, series, iv. .] there is very little folk-lore about this day. halliwell says that girls used to have a method of divination with a "s. thomas's onion," for the purpose of finding their future husbands. the onion was peeled, wrapped in a clean handkerchief, and then being placed under their heads, the following lines were said: good s. thomas, do me right, and see my true love come to-night, that i may see him in the face, and him in my kind arms embrace. a writer in _notes and queries_[ ] says, "a nottinghamshire maid-servant tells me:--'one of my mistresses was brought up at ranskill, or not far from there. she used to say that when she and her sister were children they always hid under the nurse's cloak if they went out to a party on s. thomas's day. they were told that s. thomas came down at that time and sat on the steeple of the church.'" [footnote : series, x. p. .] chapter vii paddington charity (bread and cheese lands)--barring-out at schools--interesting narrative. until christmas eve there is nothing remarkable about this novena of christ-tide, excepting a curious charitable custom which used to obtain in the parish of paddington, which may be well described by a quotation from the _london magazine_ (december , p. ). "sunday, december , . this day, according to annual custom, bread and cheese were thrown from paddington steeple to the populace, agreeable to the will of two women, who were relieved there with bread and cheese when they were almost starved; and providence afterwards favouring them, they left an estate in that parish to continue the custom for ever on that day." three pieces of land situated in the parish were certainly left by two maiden ladies, whose names are unknown, and their charity was distributed as described until the sunday before christmas , when the bread and cheese (consisting of three or four dozen penny rolls, and the same quantity of pieces of cheese) were thrown for the last time from the belfry of st. mary's church by mr. wm. hogg, the parish clerk. after that date the rents arising from these "bread and cheese lands," as they are called, were distributed in the shape of bread, coals, and blankets, to poor families inhabiting the parish, of whom a list was made out annually for the churchwardens, stating their residence and occupation, and the number of children under ten years of age. subsequently the court of chancery assented to a scheme whereby the rents are portioned amongst the national schools, etc. a curious custom used to obtain in some schools just before the christmas holidays, of _barring-out_ the master, and keeping him out of the schoolroom until the boys' grievances had been listened to and promise of redress given; and the best account of this custom that i have ever met with is in the _gentleman's magazine_ for , vol. ii. p. , etc. "it was a few days before the usual period of the christmas holidays arrived, when the leading scholars of the head form determined on reviving the ancient but obsolete custom of _barring-out_ the master of the school. many years had elapsed since the attempt had succeeded; and many times since that period had it been made in vain. the scholars had heard of the glorious feats of their forefathers in their boyish years, when they set the lash of the master at defiance for days together. now, alas! all was changed; the master, in the opinion of the boys, reigned a despot absolute and uncontrolled; the merciless cruelty of his rod, and the heaviness of his tasks, were insupportable. the accustomed holidays had been rescinded; the usual christmas feast reduced to a non-entity, and the chartered rights of the scholars were continually violated. these grievances were discussed _seriatim_; and we were all unanimously of opinion that our wrongs should, if possible, be redressed. but how the object should be effected was a momentous and weighty affair. the master was a clergyman of the old school, who for the last forty years had exercised an authority hitherto uncontrolled, and who had no idea of enforcing scholastic discipline without the exercise of the whip. the consequences of a failure were terrible to think upon; but then the anticipation of success, and the glory attendant upon the enterprise, if successful, were sufficient to dispel every fear. "at the head of the greek class was one whose very soul seemed formed for the most daring attempts. he communicated his intentions to a chosen few, of which the writer was one, and offered to be the leader of the undertaking if we would promise him our support. we hesitated; but he represented the certainty of success with such feeling eloquence that he entirely subdued our opposition. he stated that addison had acquired immortal fame by a similar enterprise. he told us that almost every effort in the sacred cause of freedom had succeeded. he appealed to our classical recollections:--epaminondas and leonidas were worthy of our example; tarquin and cæsar, as tyrants, had fallen before the united efforts of freedom; we had only to be unanimous, and the rod of this scholastic despot would be for ever broken. we then entered enthusiastically into his views. he observed that delays were dangerous; 'the barring-out,' he said, 'should take place the very next morning to prevent the possibility of being betrayed.' on a previous occasion (he said), some officious little urchin had told the master the whole plot, several days having been allowed to intervene between the planning of the project and its execution, and, to the astonishment of the boys, it appeared they found the master at his desk two hours before his usual time, and had the mortification of being congratulated on their early attendance, with an order to be there every morning at the same hour! "to prevent the occurrence of such a defeat we determined on organising our plans that very night. the boys were accordingly told to assemble after school hours at a well-known tombstone in the neighbouring churchyard, as something of importance was under consideration. the place of meeting was an elevated parallelogram tombstone, which had always served as a kind of council table to settle our little disputes as well as parties of pleasure. here we all assembled at the appointed time. our leader took his stand at one end of the stone, with the head boys who were in the secret on each side of him. 'my boys (he laconically observed), to-morrow morning we are to _bar-out_ the flogging parson, and to make him promise that he will not flog us hereafter without a cause, nor set us long tasks or deprive us of our holidays. the boys of the greek form will be your captains, and i am to be your captain-general. those that are cowards had better retire and be satisfied with future floggings; but you, who have courage, and know what it is to have been flogged for nothing, come here and sign your names.' he immediately pulled out a pen and a sheet of paper; and having tied some bits of thread round the finger-ends of two or three boys, with a pin he drew blood to answer for ink, and to give more solemnity to the act. he signed the first, the captains next, and the rest in succession. many of the lesser boys slunk away during the ceremony; but on counting the names we found we mustered upwards of forty--sufficient, it was imagined, even to carry the school by storm. the captain-general then addressed us: 'i have the key of the school, and shall be there at seven o'clock. the old parson will arrive at nine, and every one of you must be there before eight to allow us one hour for barricading the doors and windows. bring with you as much provision as you can; and tell your parents that you have to take your dinners in school. let every one of you have some weapon of defence; you who cannot obtain a sword, pistol, or poker, must bring a stick or cudgel. now, all go home directly, and be sure to arrive early in the morning.' "perhaps a more restless and anxious night was never passed by young recruits on the eve of a general battle. many of us rose some hours before the time; and at seven o'clock, when the school door was opened, there was a tolerably numerous muster. our captain immediately ordered candles to be lighted, and a rousing fire to be made (for it was a dark december's morning). he then began to examine the store of provisions, and the arms which each had brought. in the meantime, the arrival of every boy with additional material was announced by tremendous cheers. "at length the church clock struck eight. 'proceed to barricade the doors and windows,' exclaimed the captain, 'or the old lion will be upon us before we are prepared to meet him.' in an instant the old oaken door rang on its heavy hinges. some, with hammers, gimlets, and nails, were eagerly securing the windows, while others were dragging along the ponderous desks, forms, and everything portable, to blockade, with certain security, every place which might admit of ingress. this operation being completed, the captain mounted the master's rostrum, and called over the list of names, when he found only two or three missing. he then proceeded to classify them into divisions, or companies of six, and assigned to each its respective captain. he prescribed the duties of each company. two were to guard the large casement window, where, it was expected, the first attack would be made; this was considered the post of honour, and, consequently, the strongest boys, with the most formidable weapons, were selected, whom we called grenadiers. another company, whom we considered as the light infantry, or sharp shooters, were ordered to mount a large desk in the centre of the school; and, armed with squibs, crackers, and various missiles, they were to attack the enemy over the heads of the combatants. the other divisions were to guard the back windows and door, and to act according to the emergency of the moment. our leader then moved some resolutions (which, in imitation of brutus, he had cogitated during the previous night), to the effect that each individual should implicitly obey his own captain; that each captain should follow the orders of the captain-general, and that a _corps de réserve_ should be stationed in the rear, to enforce this obedience, and prevent the combatants from taking to flight. the resolutions were passed amid loud vociferations. "we next commenced an examination of the various weapons, and found them to consist of one old blunderbuss, one pistol, two old swords, a few rusty pokers, and sticks, stones, squibs, and gunpowder in abundance. the firearms were immediately loaded with blank powder; the swords were sharpened, and the pokers heated in the fire. these weapons were assigned to the most daring company, who had to protect the principal window. the missiles were for the light infantry, and all the rest were armed with sticks. "we now began to manoeuvre our companies, by marching them into line and column, so that every one might know his own situation. in the midst of this preparation, the sentinel whom we had placed at the window, loudly vociferated, 'the parson! the parson's coming!' "in an instant all was confusion. every one ran he knew not where; as if eager to fly, or screen himself from observation. our captain immediately mounted a form, and called to the captains of the two leading companies to take their stations. they immediately obeyed; and the other companies followed their example; though they found it much more difficult to manoeuvre when danger approached than they had a few minutes before! the well-known footstep, which had often struck on our ears with terror, was now heard to advance along the portico. the muttering of his stern voice sounded in our ears like the lion's growl. a death-like silence prevailed: we scarcely dared to breathe: the palpitations of our little hearts could, perhaps, alone be heard. the object of our dread then went round to the front window, for the purpose of ascertaining whether any one was in the school. every footstep struck us with awe: not a word, not a whisper was heard. he approached close to the window; and with an astonished countenance stood gazing upon us, while we were ranged in battle array, motionless statues, and silent as the tomb. 'what is the meaning of this?' he impatiently exclaimed. but no answer could he obtain, for who would then have dared to render himself conspicuous by a reply? pallid countenances and livid lips betrayed our fears. the courage, which one hour before was ready to brave every danger, appeared to be fled. every one seemed anxious to conceal himself from view: and there would, certainly, have been a general flight through the back windows had it not been for the prudent regulation of a _corps de réserve,_ armed with cudgels, to prevent it. "'you young scoundrels, open the door instantly,' he again exclaimed; and, what added to our indescribable horror, in a fit of rage he dashed his hand through the window, which consisted of diamond-shaped panes, and appeared as if determined to force his way in. "fear and trepidation, attended by an increasing commotion, now possessed us all. at this critical moment every eye turned to our captain, as if to reproach him for having brought us into this terrible dilemma. he alone stood unmoved; but he saw that none would have courage to obey his commands. some exciting stimulus was necessary. suddenly waving his hand, he exclaimed aloud, 'three cheers for the barring-out, and success to our cause!' the cheers were tremendous; our courage revived; the blood flushed in our cheeks; the parson was breaking in; the moment was critical. our captain, undaunted, sprang to the fire-place--seized a heated poker in one hand, and a blazing torch in the other. the latter he gave to the captain of the sharp shooters, and told him to prepare a volley; when, with red-hot poker, he fearlessly advanced to the window seat; and, daring his master to enter, he ordered an attack--and an attack, indeed, was made, sufficiently tremendous to have repelled a more powerful assailant. the missiles flew at the ill-fated window from every quarter. the blunderbuss and the pistol were fired; squibs and crackers, inkstands and rulers, stones, and even burning coals, came in showers about the casement, and broke some of the panes into a thousand pieces; while blazing torches, heated pokers, and sticks, stood bristling under the window. the whole was scarcely the work of a minute: the astonished master reeled back in dumb amazement. he had, evidently, been struck with a missile or with the broken glass; and probably fancied that he had been wounded by the firearms. the schools now rang with the shouts of 'victory,' and continued cheering. 'the enemy again approaches,' cried the captain; 'fire another volley;--stay, he seeks a parley--hear him.' 'what is the meaning, i say, of this horrid tumult?' 'the barring-out, the barring-out!' a dozen voices instantly exclaimed. 'for shame,' says he, in a tone evidently subdued; what disgrace are you bringing upon yourselves and the schools. what will the trustees--what will your parents say? william,' continued he, addressing the captain, 'open the door without further delay.' 'i will, sir,' he replied, 'on your promising to pardon us, and give us our lawful holidays, of which we have lately been deprived; and not set us tasks during the holidays.' 'yes, yes,' said several squealing voices, 'that is what we want; and not to be flogged for nothing.' 'you insolent scoundrels! you consummate young villains!' he exclaimed, choking with rage, and at the same time making a furious effort to break through the already shattered window, 'open the door instantly, or i'll break every bone in your hides.' 'not on those conditions,' replied our captain, with provoking coolness;--'come on, my boys, another volley.' no sooner said than done, and even with more fury than before. like men driven to despair, who expect no quarter on surrendering, the little urchins daringly mounted the window seat, which was a broad, old-fashioned one, and pointed the fire arms and heated poker at him; whilst others advanced with the squibs and missiles. 'come on, my lads,' said the captain, 'let this be our thermopylæ, and i will be your leonidas.' and, indeed, so daring were they, that each seemed ready to emulate the spartans of old. the master, perceiving their determined obstinacy, turned round, without further remonstrance, and indignantly walked away. "relieved from our terrors, we now became intoxicated with joy. the walls rang with repeated hurrahs! in the madness of enthusiasm, some of the boys began to tear up the forms, throw the books about, break the slates, locks, and cupboards, and act so outrageously that the captain called them to order; not, however, before the master's desk and drawers had been broken open, and every play thing which had been taken from the scholars restored to its owner. "we now began to think of provisions. they were all placed on one table and dealt out in rations by the captains of each company. in the meantime, we held a council of war, as we called it, to determine on what was to be done. "in a recess at the east end of the school there stood a large oak chest, black with age, whose heavy hinges had become corroded with years of rust. it was known to contain the records and endowments of the school; and, as we presumed, the regulations for the treatment of the scholars. the oldest boy had never seen its inside. attempts, dictated by insatiable curiosity, had often been made to open it; but it was deemed impregnable. it was guarded by three immense locks, and each key was in the possession of different persons. the wood appeared to be nearly half a foot thick, and every corner was plaited with iron. all eyes were instinctively directed to this mysterious chest. could any means be devised for effecting an entrance? was the natural question. we all proceeded to reconnoitre; we attempted to move it, but in vain: we made some feeble efforts to force the lid; it was firm as a block of marble. at length, one daring urchin brought, from the fire-place, a red-hot poker, and began to bore through its sides. a universal shout was given. other pokers were brought, and to work they went. the smoke and tremendous smell which the old wood sent forth rather alarmed us. we were apprehensive that we might burn the records instead of obtaining a copy of them. this arrested our progress for a few minutes. "at this critical moment a shout was set up that the parson and a constable was coming! down went the pokers; and, as if conscience-stricken, we were all seized with consternation. the casement window was so shattered that it could easily be entered by any resolute fellow. in the desperation of the moment we seized the desks, forms, and stools to block it up; but, in some degree, our courage had evaporated, and we felt reluctant to act on the offensive. the old gentleman and his attendant deliberately inspected the windows and fastenings: but, without making any attempt to enter, they retreated for the purpose, we presumed, of obtaining additional assistance. what was now to be done? the master appeared obdurate, and we had gone too far to recede. some proposed to drill a hole in the window seat, fill it with gunpowder, and explode it if any one attempted to enter. others thought we had better prepare to set fire to the school sooner than surrender unconditionally. but the majority advised what was, perhaps, the most prudent resolution, to wait for another attack; and, if we saw no hopes of sustaining a longer defence, to make the best retreat we could. "the affair of the barring out had now become known, and persons began to assemble round the windows, calling out that the master was coming with assistance, and saying everything to intimidate us. many of us were completely jaded with the over-excitement we had experienced since the previous evening. the school was hot, close, and full of smoke. some were longing for liberty and fresh air; and most of us were now of opinion that we had engaged in an affair which it was impossible to accomplish. in this state of mind we received another visit from our dreaded master. with his stick he commenced a more furious attack than before; and, observing us less turbulent, he appeared determined to force his way in spite of the barricadoes. the younger boys thought of nothing but flight and self-preservation, and the rush to the back windows became general. in the midst of this consternation our captain exclaims, 'let us not fly like cowards; if we must surrender, let the gates of the citadel be thrown open: the day is against us; but let us bravely face the enemy, and march out with the honours of war.' some few had already escaped; but the rest immediately ranged themselves on each side of the school, in two extended lines, with their weapons in hand. the door was thrown open--the master instantly entered, and passed between the two lines, denouncing vengeance on us all. but, as he marched in we marched out in military order; and, giving three cheers, we dispersed into the neighbouring fields. "we shortly met again, and, after a little consultation, it was determined that none of the leaders should come to school until sent for, and a free pardon given. "the defection, however, was so general that no corporal punishments took place. many of the boys did not return till after the holidays: and several of the elder ones never entered the school again." this curious custom can hardly be considered as dead, for a writer, mentioning it in _notes and queries_ for december , ( th series, vi. p. ), says: "this old custom, strange to say, still exists, in spite of the schoolmaster and the board school. it may be of interest to some of your readers if i give an extract from a letter to the dalston (carlisle) school board in reference to this subject, received at their last meeting on december th. 'i would ask the sanction of the board for the closing of the school for the vacation on the evening of thursday the th. if we open on the friday we shall, most likely, have a poor attendance. my principal reason for asking is that we should be thus better able to effectually put a stop to the old barbarous custom of barring out. some of the children might possibly be persuaded by outsiders to make the attempt on friday, and in such a case i should feel it my duty to inflict an amount of castigation on offenders such as neither they nor myself would relish.' "the majority of the board sympathised with the master's difficulty and granted his request; though as chairman i expressed my curiosity to see the repetition of a custom i had heard so much about." chapter viii the bellman--descriptions of him--his verses. the waits--their origin--ned ward on them--corporation waits--york waits ( th century)--essay on waits--westminster waits--modern waits. before the advent of christmas the bellman, or watchman, left at each house a copy of verses ostensibly breathing good-will and a happy christmas to the occupants, but in reality as a reminder to them of his existence, and that he would call in due time for his christmas box. the date of the institution of the bellman is not well defined. in tegg's _dictionary of chronology_, is given, but no authority for the statement is adduced; machyn, in his diary, is more definite "[the xij. day of january - , in alderman draper's ward called] chordwenerstrett ward, a belle man [went about] with a belle at evere lane, and at the ward [end to] gyff warnyng of ffyre and candyll lyght, [and to help the] poure, and pray for the ded." their cry being, "take care of your fire and candle, be charitable to the poor, and pray for the dead." shakespeare knew him, for in _macbeth_ (act ii. sc. ) he says: it was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bell man, which gives the stern'st good night. and milton mentions him in _il penseroso_: or the bellman's drowsy charm, to bless the doors from nightly harm. herrick also celebrates _the bellman_: from noise of scare-fires rest ye free, from murders _benedicite_. from all mischances, that may fright your pleasing slumbers in the night; mercie secure ye all, and keep the goblin from ye, while ye sleep. past one o'clock, and almost two, my masters all, _good day to you_. on the title page of decker's _belman of london_ (ed. ) we have a woodcut giving a vivid portrait of the bellman going his nightly rounds with his pike upon his shoulder, a horn lanthorn, with a candle inside, in one hand, and his bell, which is attached by a strap to his girdle, in the other hand, his faithful dog following him in his nightly rounds. in his _lanthorne and candle light; or the bell-man's second night's walke_, ed. , the title page gives us a totally different type of bellman, carrying both bell and lanthorn, but bearing no pike, nor is he accompanied by a dog. in his _o per se o_, ed. , is another type of bellman, with lanthorn, bell, and brown bill on his shoulder, but no dog. and in his _villanies discovered by lanthorne and candle light_, etc., ed. , we have two more and yet different bellmen, one with bell, lanthorn, and bill, followed by a dog; the other (a very rough wood cut) does not give him his four-footed friend. this is the heading to the "belman's cry": men and children, maides and wives, 'tis not late to mend your lives: * * * * * when you heare this ringing bell, think it is your latest knell: when i cry, maide in your smocke, doe not take it for a mocke: well i meane, if well 'tis taken, i would have you still awaken: foure a clocke, the cock is crowing i must to my home be going: when all other men doe rise, then must i shut up mine eyes. he was a person of such importance, that in vincent bourne composed a long latin poem in praise of one of the fraternity: "ad davidem cook, westmonasterii custodem nocturnum et vigilantissimum," a translation of which runs thus, in the last few lines: should you and your dog ever call at my door, you'll be welcome, i promise you, nobody more. may you call at a thousand each year that you live, a shilling, at least, may each householder give; may the "merry old christmas" you wish us, befal, and your self, and your dog, be the merriest of all! at christ-tide it was their custom to leave a copy of verses, mostly of scriptural character, and generally very sorry stuff, at every house on their beat, with a view to receiving a christmas box; and this was an old custom, for gay notices it in his _trivia_ (book ii.) written in : behold that narrow street which steep descends, whose building to the slimy shore extends; here arundel's fam'd structure rear'd its frame, the street, alone, retains the empty name; where titian's glowing paint the canvass warm'd, and raphael's fair design, with judgment, charm'd, now hangs the _bellman's song_, and pasted here the coloured prints of overton appear. another ante-christmas custom now falling into desuetude is the waits, who originally were musical watchmen, who had to give practical evidence of their vigilance by playing on the hautboy, or flageolet, at stated times during the night. in the household of edward iv. there is mentioned in the _liber niger domus regis_, "a wayte, that nightely from mychelmas to shreve thorsdaye, _pipe the watch_ within this courte fowere tymes; in the somere nightes three tymes, and maketh _bon gayte_ at every chambre doare and offyce, as well for feare of pyckeres and pillers."[ ] [footnote : pickers and stealers.] these waits afterwards became bands of musicians, who were ready to play at any festivities, such as weddings, etc., and almost every city and town had its band of waits; the city of london had its corporation waits, which played before the lord mayor in his inaugural procession, and at banquets and other festivities. they wore blue gowns, red sleeves and caps, and every one had a silver collar about his neck. ned ward thus describes them in his _london spy_ ( ). "at last bolted out from the corner of a street, with an _ignis fatuus_ dancing before them, a parcel of strange hobgoblins, covered with long frieze rugs and blankets, hooped round with leather girdles from their cruppers to their shoulders, and their noddles buttoned up into caps of martial figure, like a knight errant at tilt and tournament, with his wooden head locked in an iron helmet; one, armed, as i thought with a lusty faggot-bat, and the rest with strange wooden weapons in their hands, in the shape of clyster pipes, but as long almost as speaking trumpets. of a sudden they clapped them to their mouths, and made such a frightful yelling that i thought _he_ would have been dissolving, and the terrible sound of the last trumpet to be within an inch of my ears.... 'why, what,' says he, 'don't you love musick? these are the topping tooters of the town, and have gowns, silver chains and salaries for playing _lilli-borlero_ to my lord mayor's horse through the city.'" that these corporation waits were no mean musicians we have the authority of morley, who, in dedicating his _consort lessons_ to the lord mayor and aldermen in , says: "as the ancient custom of this most honourable and renowned city hath been ever to retain and maintain excellent and expert musicians to adorn your honours' favours, feasts and solemn meetings--to these, your lordships' wayts, i recommend the same--to your servants' careful and skilful handling." these concert lessons were arranged for six instruments--viz. two viols (treble and bass), a flute, a cittern (a kind of guitar, strung with wire), a treble lute, and a pandora, which was a large instrument, similar to a lute, but strung with wire in lieu of catgut. the following is a description of the york waits, end of seventeenth century: in a winter's morning, long before the dawning, 'ere the cock did crow, or stars their light withdraw, wak'd by a hornpipe pretty, play'd along york city, by th' help of o'er night's bottle damon made this ditty.... in a winter's night, by moon or lanthorn light, through hail, rain, frost, or snow their rounds the music go; clad each in frieze or blanket (for either, heav'n be thanked), lin'd with wine a quart, or ale a double tankard. burglars send away, and, bar guests dare not stay; of claret, snoring sots dream o'er their pipes and pots, * * * * * candles, four in the pound, lead up the jolly round, while cornet shrill i' th' middle marches, and merry fiddle, curtal with deep hum, hum, cries we come, come, and theorbo loudly answers, thrum, thrum, thrum, thrum, thrum. but, their fingers frost-nipt, so many notes are o'erslipt, that you'd take sometimes the waits for the minster chimes: then, sirs, to hear their musick would make both me and you sick, and much more to hear a roopy fiddler call (with voice, as moll would cry, "come, shrimps, or cockles buy"). "past three, fair frosty morn, good morrow, my masters all." with regard to their modern practice of playing during the night-tide, we find the following explanation in an _essay on the musical waits at christmas_, by john cleland, . speaking of the druids, he says: "but, whatever were their reasons for this preference, it is out of doubt that they generally chose the dead of night for the celebration of their greatest solemnities and festivals. such assemblies, then, whether of religion, of ceremony, or of mere merriment, were promiscuously called _wakes_, from their being nocturnal. the master of the _revels_ (_reveils_) would, in good old english, be termed the master of the _wakes_. in short, such nocturnal meetings are the _wakes_ of the britons; the _reveillons_ of the french; the _medianoche_ of the spaniards; and the _pervigilia_ of the romans. the custom of _wakes_ at burials (_les vigiles des morts_) is at this moment, in many parts, not discontinued. "but, at the antient _yule_ (or christmas time, especially), the dreariness of the weather, the length of the night, would naturally require something extraordinary, to wake and rouse men from their natural inclination to rest, and to a warm bed, at that hour. the summons, then, to the _wakes_ of that season were given by music, going the rounds of invitation to the mirth or festivals which were awaiting them. in this there was some propriety, some object; but where is there any in such a solemn piece of banter as that of music going the rounds and disturbing people in vain? for, surely, any meditation to be thereby excited on the holiness of the ensuing day could hardly be of great avail, in a bed, between sleeping and waking. but such is the power of custom to perpetuate absurdities. "however, the music was called _the wakeths_, and, by the usual tendency of language to euphony, softened into _waits_, as _workth_ into _wort_, or _checkths_ into _chess_, etc." another authority, jones, in his _welsh bards_, , says: "waits are musicians of the lower order, who commonly perform on wind instruments, and they play in most towns under the windows of the chief inhabitants, at midnight, a short time before christmas; for which they collect a christmas box, from house to house. they are said to derive their name of _waits_, for being always in waiting to celebrate weddings and other joyous events happening within their district. there is a building at newcastle called _waits' tower_, which was, formerly, the meeting-house of the town band of musicians." the town waits certainly existed in westminster as late as , and they were elected by the court of burgesses of that city--_vide_ a magazine cutting of that date: "_christmas waits_.--charles clapp, benjamin jackson, denis jelks, and robert prinset, were brought to bow street office by o. bond, the constable, charged with performing on several musical instruments in st. martin's lane, at half-past twelve o'clock this morning, by mr. munroe, the authorized principal wait, appointed by the court of burgesses for the city and liberty of westminster, who alone considers himself entitled, by his appointment, to apply for christmas boxes. he also urged that the prisoners, acting as minstrels, came under the meaning of the vagrant act, alluded to in the th geo. ii.; however, on reference to the last vagrant act of the present king, the word 'minstrels' is omitted; consequently, they are no longer cognizable under that act of parliament; and, in addition to that, mr. charles clapp, one of the prisoners, produced his indenture of having served seven years as an apprentice to the profession of a musician to mr. clay, who held the same appointment as mr. munroe does under the court of burgesses. the prisoners were discharged, after receiving an admonition from mr. halls, the sitting magistrate, not to collect christmas boxes." in an article, "concerning christmas," in _belgravia_ (vol. , new series, p. ), we read: "it may not, perhaps, be generally known that, in the year of grace , 'waits' are regularly sworn before the court of burgesses at westminster, and act under the authority of a warrant, signed by the clerk, and sealed with the arms of the city and liberty; in addition to which they are bound to provide themselves with a silver badge, also bearing the arms of westminster." the modern waits have entirely departed from any pretence of allusion to christ-tide, and play indifferently the last things out in dance music, operatic airs, or music-hall songs; and they act upon people according to their various temperaments, some liking to "hear the waits," whilst others roundly anathematise them for disturbing their slumbers. chapter ix christ-tide carols--the days of yule--a carol for christ-tide--"lullaby"--the cherry-tree carol--dives and lazarus. the singing of carols is now confined to christmas day; but it was not always so, appropriate carols being sung during the christ-tide preceding the day of the nativity--such, for instance, as the following examples. the first is taken from sloane ms. , in the british museum, and in this one i have preserved the old spelling, which is ascribed to the time of henry vi. it will be seen that christ-tide is prolonged till candlemas day, the feast of the purification of the blessed virgin mary, which is kept on the nd of february, on which day all christ-tide decorations are taken down. make we myrth for crystes byrth, and syng we ole[ ] tyl candelmes. the fyrst day of ole have we in mynd, how god was man born of oure kynd: for he the bondes wold onbynd of all oure synnes and wykednes. the secund day we syng of stevene, that stoned and steyyd up even to god that he saw stond in hevyn, and crounned was for hys prouesse. the iij day longeth to sent johan, that was cristys darlyng, derer non, whom he betok, whan he shuld gon, hys moder der for hyr clennesse, the iiij day of the chyldren ong, that herowd to deth had do with wrong, and crist thei coud non tell with tong, but with ther blod bar hym wytnesse. the v day longeth to sent thomas,[ ] that as a strong pyller of bras, held up the chyrch, and sclayn he was, for he sted with ry twesnesse. the viij day tok jhesu hys name, that saved mankynd fro syn and shame, and circumsysed was for no blame, but for ensample of meknesse. the xij day offerd to hym kynges iij, gold, myr, and cence, thes gyftes free, for god, and man, and kyng was he, thus worschyppyd thei his worthynes. on the xl day cam mary myld, unto the temple with hyr chyld, to shew hyr clen that never was fylyd, and therwith endyth chrystmes. [footnote : yule.] [footnote : st. thomas à becket, of canterbury, was commemorated on th december.] the following is taken from a ms. of the latter half of the fifteenth century, which mr. thomas wright edited for the percy society in . the spelling is even more archaic than the above, so that it is modernised, and a gloss given for all those words which may not be easily understood wherever possible:-- this endris[ ] night i saw a sight, a star as bright as day; and ever among a maiden sung, lullay, by by, lullay. the lovely lady sat and sang, and to her child said-- my son, my brother, my father dear, why lyest thou thus in hayd. my sweet bird, thus it is betide though thou be king veray;[ ] but, nevertheless, i will not cease to sing, by by, lullay. the child then spake in his talking, and to his mother said-- i bekyd[ ] am king, in crib[ ] there i be laid; for angels bright down to me light, thou knowest it is no nay; and of that sight thou mays't be light to sing, by by, lullay. now, sweet son, since thou art king, why art thou laid in stall? why not thou ordained thy bedding in some great king his hall? me thinketh it is right that king or knight should lie in good array; and then among it were no wrong to sing, by by, lullay. mary, mother, i am thy child, though i be laid in stall, lords and dukes shall worship me, and so shall kings all; ye shall well see that kings three shall come the twelfth day; for this behest give me thy breast and sing, by by, lullay. now tell me, sweet son, i pray thee, thou art my love and dear, how should i keep thee to thy pay,[ ] and make thee glad of cheer; for all thy will i would fulfil thou witest[ ] full well, in fay,[ ] and for all this i will thee kiss and sing, by by, lullay. my dear mother, when time it be, thou take me up aloft, and set me upon thy knee, and handle me full soft; and in thy arm, thou wilt me warm, and keep night and day; if i weep, and may not sleep, thou sing, by by, lullay. now, sweet son, since it is so, that all thing is at thy will, i pray thee grant me a boon, if it be both right and skill.[ ] that child or man, that will or can be merry upon my day; to bliss them bring, and i shall sing lullay, by by, lullay. [footnote : last.] [footnote : true.] [footnote : i am renowned as.] [footnote : manger.] [footnote : satisfaction.] [footnote : knowest.] [footnote : in faith.] [footnote : reasonable.] a very popular carol, too, was that of the legend of the cherry tree, which is very ancient, and is one of the scenes in the fifteenth of the coventry mysteries, which were played in the fifteenth century, on _corpus christi day_. joseph was an old man, and an old man was he, and he married mary the queen of galilee. when joseph was married, and mary home had brought, mary proved with child, and joseph knew it not. joseph and mary walked through a garden gay, where the cherries they grew upon every tree. o, then bespoke mary, with words both meek and mild, "o, gather me cherries, joseph, they run so in my mind." and then replied joseph, with his words so unkind, "let him gather thee cherries, that got thee with child." o, then bespoke our savior, all in his mother's womb, "bow down, good cherry tree, to my mother's hand." the uppermost sprig bowed down to mary's knee, "thus you may see, joseph, these cherries are for me." "o, eat your cherries, mary, o, eat your cherries now, o, eat your cherries, mary, that grow upon the bow." the parable of dives and lazarus was a great favourite at christ-tide, as, presumably, it served to stir up men to deeds of charity towards their poorer brethren; but the following carol, parts of which are very curious, has nothing like the antiquity of the foregoing examples:-- as it fell out upon a day, rich dives made a feast, and he invited all his guests, and gentry of the best. then lazarus laid him down, and down, and down at dives' door, "some meat, some drink, brother dives, bestow upon the poor." "thou art none of my brother, lazarus, that lies begging at my door, no meat, nor drink will i give thee, nor bestow upon the poor." then lazarus laid him down, and down, and down at dives' wall, "some meat, some drink, brother dives, or with hunger starve i shall." "thou art none of my brother, lazarus, that lies begging at my wall, no meat, nor drink will i give thee, but with hunger starve you shall." then lazarus laid him down, and down, and down at dives' gate, "some meat, some drink, brother dives, for jesus christ, his sake." "thou art none of my brother, lazarus, that lies begging at my gate, no meat, nor drink i'll give to thee, for jesus christ, his sake." then dives sent out his merry men, to whip poor lazarus away, but they had no power to strike a stroke, and flung their whips away. then dives sent out his hungry dogs, to bite him as he lay. but they had no power to bite at all, so licked his sores away. as it fell upon a day, poor lazarus sickened and died, there came an angel out of heaven, his soul there for to guide. "rise up, rise up, brother lazarus, and come along with me, for there's a place in heaven provided to site on an angel's knee." as it fell upon a day, rich dives sickened and died, there came a serpent out of hell, his soul there for to guide. "rise up, rise up, brother dives, and come along with me, for there's a place in hell provided, to sit on a serpent's knee." then dives lifting his eyes to heaven, and seeing poor lazarus blest, "give me a drop of water, brother lazarus, to quench my flaming thirst. "oh! had i as many years to abide, as there are blades of grass, then there would be an ending day; but in hell i must ever last. "oh! was i now but alive again, for the space of one half hour, i would make my will, and then secure that the devil should have no power." chapter x christmas eve--herrick thereon--the yule log--folk-lore thereon--the ashen faggot--christmas candles--christmas eve in the isle of man--hunting the wren--divination by onions and sage--a custom at aston--"the mock"--decorations and kissing bunch--"black ball"--guisers and waits--ale posset. all the festivals of the church are preceded by a vigil, or eve, and, considering the magnitude of the festival of christmas, it is no wonder that the ceremonial attaching to the eve of the nativity outvies all others. what sings old herrick of it? come, bring with a noise, my merrie, merrie boyes, the christmas log to the firing; while my good dame, she bids ye all be free; and drink to your hearts' desiring. with the last yeere's brand, light the new block, and for good successe in his spending, on your psalterie play, that sweet luck may come while the log is teending.[ ] drink now the strong beere, cut the white loafe heere, the while the meat is a shredding; for the rare mince pie, and the plums stand by to fill the paste that's a-kneading. [footnote : lighting, burning.] bringing in the yule log, clog, or block--for it is indifferently called by any of these names, was a great function on christmas eve--and much superstitious reverence was paid to it, in order to insure good luck for the coming year. it had to be lit "with the last yeere's brand," and herrick gives the following instructions in _the ceremonies for candlemasse day_. kindle the christmas brand, and then till sunne-set, let it burne; which quencht, then lay it up agen, till christmas next returne. part must be kept, wherewith to teend the christmas log next yeare; and, where 'tis safely kept, the fiend can do no mischief there. but, even if lit with the remains of last year's log, it seems to be insufficient, unless the advice to the maids who light it be followed. wash your hands, or else the fire will not teend to your desire; unwasht hands, ye maidens, know, dead the fire, though ye blow. in some parts of devonshire a curious custom in connection with the yule log is still kept up, that of burning the ashton or ashen faggot. it is well described by a writer in _notes and queries_.[ ] [footnote : sixth series, vol. ii. p. .] "of the olden customs, so many of which are dying out, that of burning an 'ashen faggot' on christmas eve, still holds its own, and is kept up at many farm houses. "among the various gleanings of the devon association folk-lore committee is recorded a notice of this custom. we are there informed that, on christmas eve, , the customary faggot was burned at _thirty-two_ farms and cottages in the ashburton postal district alone. "the details of the observance vary in different families; but some, being common to all, may be considered as held necessary to the due performance of the rite. for example, the faggot must contain as large a log of ash as possible, usually the trunk of a tree, remnants of which are supposed to continue smouldering on the hearth the whole of the twelve days of christmas. this is the yule dog of our forefathers, from which a fire can be raised by the aid of a pair of bellows, at any moment day or night, in token of the ancient custom of open hospitality at such a season. then the faggot must be bound together with as many binders of twisted hazel as possible. remembering that the ash and hazel were sacred trees with the scandinavians, their combined presence in forming the faggot may once have contained some mystic signification. also, as each binder is burned through, a quart of cider is claimed by the company. by this, some hidden connexion between the pleasures of the party and the loosening bands of the faggot is typified. while the fire lasts, all sorts of amusements are indulged in--all distinction between master and servant, neighbour and visitor, is for the time set aside. "the heir, with roses in his shoes, that night might village partner choose; the lord, underogating, share the vulgar game of 'post and pair.' all hailed, with uncontrolled delight, and general voice, the happy night, that to the cottage, as the crown, brought tidings of salvation down. "in some houses, when the faggot begins to burn up, a young child is placed on it, and his future pluck foretold by his nerve or timidity. may not this be a remnant of the dedication of children to the deity by passing them through the sacred fire? "different reasons are given for burning ash. by some, it is said that when our saviour was born, joseph cut a bundle of ash, which, every one knows, burns very well when green; that, by this, was lighted a fire, by which he was first dressed in swaddling clothes. "the gipsies have a legend that our saviour was born out in a field like themselves, and brought up by an ash fire. the holly, ivy, and pine, they say, hid him, and so, now, are always green, whilst the ash and the oak showed where he was hiding, and they remain dead all the winter. therefore the gipsies burn ash at christmas. "we can well understand how the pleasures of the ashen faggot are looked forward to with delight by the hard-working agricultural labourer, for whom few social enjoyments are provided. the harvest home, in these days of machinery, seems lost in the usual routine of work, and the shearing feast, when held, is confined to the farmer's family, or shepherd staff, and is not a general gathering. moreover, these take place in the long busy days of summer, when extra hands and strangers are about the farm doing job work. but, with christmas, things are different. work is scarce; only the regular hands are on the farm, and there is nothing to prevent following out the good old custom of our ancestors, of feasting, for once, those among whom one's lot is cast. "england was merry england, when old christmas brought his sports again. 'twas christmas broached the mightiest ale; 'twas christmas told the merriest tale: a christmas gambol oft could cheer the poor man's heart through half the year." to add to the festivity and light, large candles are burnt, the bigger the better; but, as the custom of keeping christmas descended from "children of a larger growth" to those of lesser, so did the size of the candles decrease in proportion, until they reached the minimum at which we now know them. in the isle of man they had a custom which has, probably, dropped into desuetude, of all going to church on christmas eve, each bearing the largest candle procurable. the churches were well decorated with holly, and the service, in commemoration of the nativity, was called _oiel verry_. waldron, in his _description of the isle of man_, says, "on the th of december, towards evening, all the servants in general have a holiday; they go not to bed all night, but ramble about till the bells ring in all the churches, which is at twelve o'clock: prayers being over, they go to hunt the wren; and, after having found one of these poor birds, they kill her and lay her on a bier, with the utmost solemnity, bringing her to the parish church, and burying her with a whimsical kind of solemnity, singing dirges over her in the manks language, which they call her knell; after which christmas begins." there are many peculiar customs appertaining to christmas eve. burton, in his _anatomy of melancholy_, says, "'tis their only desire, if it may be done by art, to see their husband's picture in a glass; they'll give anything to know when they shall be married; how many husbands they shall have, by _cromnyomantia_, a kind of divination, with onions laid on the altar at christmas eve." this seems to be something like that which we have seen practised on st. thomas's day--or that described in googe's _popish kingdome_. in these same days, young wanton gyrles that meet for marriage be, doe search to know the names of them that shall their husbands be; four onyons, five, or eight, they take, and make in every one such names as they doe fancie most, and best to think upon. then near the chimney them they set, and that same onyon then that firste doth sproute doth surely beare the name of their good man. in northamptonshire another kind of divination, with the same object, used to be practised: the girl who was anxious to ascertain her lot in the married state, went into the garden and plucked twelve sage leaves, under the firm conviction that she would be favoured with a glimpse of the shadowy form of her future husband as he approached her from the opposite end of the ground; but she had to take great care not to damage or break the sage stock, otherwise the consequences would be fearful. but then, in this county, the ghosts of people who had been buried at cross roads had liberty to walk about and show themselves on christmas eve, so that the country folk did not care to stir out more than necessary on the vigil. at walton-le-dale, in lancashire, the inmates of most of the houses sat up on christmas eve, with their doors open, whilst one of the party read the narrative of st. luke, the saint himself being supposed to pass through the house. a contributor to the _gentleman's magazine_, th february , gives the following account of a custom which took place annually on the th of december, at the house of a gentleman residing at aston, near birmingham. "as soon as supper is over, a table is set in the hall. on it is placed a brown loaf, with twenty silver threepences stuck on the top of it, a tankard of ale, with pipes and tobacco; and the two oldest servants have chairs behind it, to sit as judges, if they please. the steward brings the servants, both men and women, by one at a time, covered with a winnow sheet, and lays their right hand on the loaf, exposing no other part of the body. the oldest of the two judges guesses at the person, by naming a name, then the younger judge, and, lastly, the oldest again. if they hit upon the right person, the steward leads the person back again; but, if they do not, he takes off the winnow sheet, and the person receives a threepence, makes a low obeisance to the judges, but speaks not a word. when the second servant was brought, the younger judge guessed first and third; and this they did alternately, till all the money was given away. whatever servant had not slept in the house the preceding night forfeited his right to the money. no account is given of the origin of this strange custom, but it has been practised ever since the family lived there. when the money is gone, the servants have full liberty to drink, dance, sing, and go to bed when they please." in cornwall, in many villages, christmas merriment begins on the vigil, when the "mock" or yule log is lighted by a portion saved from last year's fire. the family gather round the blaze, and amuse themselves with various games; and even the younger children are allowed, as a special favour, to sit up till a late hour to see the fun, and afterwards "to drink to the mock." in the course of the evening the merriment is increased by the entry of the "goosey dancers" (guised dancers), the boys and girls of the village, who have rifled their parents' wardrobes of old coats and gowns and, thus disguised, dance and sing, and beg money to make merry with. they are allowed, and are not slow to take, a large amount of license in consideration of the season. it is considered to be out of character with the time, and a mark of an ill-natured churlish disposition, to take offence at anything they do or say. this mumming is kept up during the week. a very graphic description of christmas eve in a derbyshire cottage is given in _notes and queries_.[ ] "for several weeks before christmas the cottager's household is much busier than usual in making preparations for the great holiday. the fatted pig has been killed, as a matter of course, and christmas pies, mince pies, and many other good things made from it in readiness for the feast. the house has been thoroughly cleaned, and all made 'spick and span.' the lads of the house, with those of their neighbours, have been learning their parts, and getting ready their dresses for the 'christmas guising,' and the household daily talk is full flavoured of christmas. [footnote : fifth series, viii. p. .] "the lasses have made their own special preparations, and for two or three days before christmas eve have been getting ready the accustomed house decorations--short garlands of holly and other evergreens for the tops of cupboards, pictures, and other furniture--and making up the most important decoration of all, 'the kissing-bunch.' "this 'kissing-bunch' is always an elaborate affair. the size depends upon the couple of hoops--one thrust through the other--which form its skeleton. each of the ribs is garlanded with holly, ivy, and sprigs of other greens, with bits of coloured ribbons and paper roses, rosy cheeked apples, specially reserved for this occasion, and oranges. three small dolls are also prepared, often with much taste, and these represent our saviour, the mother of jesus, and joseph. these dolls generally hang within the kissing-bunch by strings from the top, and are surrounded by apples, oranges tied to strings, and various brightly coloured ornaments. occasionally, however, the dolls are arranged in the kissing-bunch to represent a manger scene. "when the preparations are completed, the house is decorated during the day of christmas eve. every leaded window-pane holds its sprig of holly, ivy, or box; the ornaments on and over the mantel-shelf receive like attention, and every ledge and corner is loaded with green stuff. mistletoe is not very plentiful in derbyshire; but, generally, a bit is obtainable, and this is carefully tied to the bottom of the kissing-bunch, which is then hung in the middle of the house-place, the centre of attraction during christmas-tide. "while all this is going on, the housewife is very busy. 'black-ball' has to be made; the 'elderberry wine' to be got out; 'sugar, spice, and all that's nice' and needful placed handy. the shop has to be visited, and the usual yearly gift of one, two, or three christmas candles received. with these last, as every one knows, the house is lit up at dusk on christmas eve. "without the 'black-ball' just mentioned, the christmas rejoicings in a cottage would not be complete. 'black-ball' is a delicacy compounded of black treacle and sugar boiled together in a pan, to which, when boiling, is added a little flour, grated ginger, and spices. when it is boiled enough, it is poured into a large shallow dish, and, when partially cooled, is cut into squares and lengths, then rolled or moulded into various shapes. when quite cool, it is very hard, and very toothsome to young derbyshire. "after an early tea-meal, the fire is made up with a huge yule-log; all the candles, oil and fat lamps lit, and everything is bright and merry-looking. the head of the family sits in the chimney corner with pipe and glass of ale, or mulled elder wine. the best table is set out, and fairly loaded with christmas and mince pies, oranges, apples, nuts, 'black-baw,' wine, cakes, and green cheese, and the whole family, with the guests, if any, set about enjoying themselves. romping games are the order of the eve, broken only when the 'guisers'--of whom there are always several sets--or waits arrive. the 'guisers' are admitted indoors, and go through the several acts of their play. at the conclusion 'betsy belzebub' collects coppers from the company, and glasses of ale and wine are given to the players. the waits, or 'christmas singers' as they are mostly called, sing their carols and hymns outside the house, and during the performance cakes and ale, wine, and other cheer are carried out to them. so the eve passes on. "at nine or ten o'clock is brewed a large bowl of 'poor man's punch'--ale posset! this is the event of the night. ale posset, or milk and ale posset as some call it, is made in this wise. set a quart of milk on the fire. while it boils, crumble a twopenny loaf into a deep bowl, upon which pour the boiling milk. next, set two quarts of good ale to boil, into which grate ginger and nutmeg, adding a quantity of sugar. when the ale nearly boils, add it to the milk and bread in the bowl, stirring it while it is being poured in. "the bowl of ale posset is then placed in the centre of the table. all the single folks gather round, each provided with a spoon. then follows an interesting ceremony. a wedding ring, a bone button, and a fourpenny piece are thrown into the bowl, and all begin to eat, each dipping to the bottom of the bowl. he or she who brings up the ring will be the first married; whoever brings up the button will be an old maid or an old bachelor; and he or she who brings out the coin will become the richest. as may be imagined, this creates great fun. when seven shilling gold pieces were in circulation, this was the coin always thrown into the posset. "the games are resumed when the posset is eaten, or possibly all gather round the fire, and sing or tell stories, whiling away the hours till the stroke of twelve, when all go outside the house to listen, whilst the singers, who have gathered at some point in the village, sing 'christians, awake!' or 'hark! the herald angels sing'; and so comes to an end the cottager's one hearth-stone holiday of the whole year." chapter xi christmas eve in north notts--wassailing the fruit trees--wassail songs--wassailing in sussex--other customs--king at downside college--a christ-tide carol--midnight mass--the manger--st. francis of assisi. as these old customs are fast dying out, and should be chronicled, i must be pardoned if i give another and very similar illustration of how christmas eve was spent in north notts fifty years ago.[ ] [footnote : _notes and queries_, seventh series, ii. .] "none keep christmas nowadays as was the fashion fifty to a hundred years ago in this part of the country. here and there are to be met the customs, or bits of the customs, which were then observed: but, as a rule, the old ways have given place to new ones. here in north notts, every house is more or less decked in the few days before christmas day with holly, ivy, and evergreens, nor is mistletoe forgotten, which would scarcely be likely by any one living within a dozen miles of sherwood forest, where mistletoe grows in rare profusion on thorn bushes, the oak, and other trees, and under certain conditions may be had for the asking. "fifty years ago, at any rate, in all the villages and towns of north notts, the preparations among farmers, tradesmen, and poor folks for keeping christmas eve and christmas day were always on a bountiful scale. fat pigs were killed a week or so previously, portions of which were made into christmas pies of various kinds. plum puddings were made, and the mince meat, cunningly prepared some weeks beforehand, was made into mince pies of all sorts, sizes, and shapes. yule 'clogs,' as they are here called, were sawn or chopped in readiness, and a stock laid in sufficient to last the whole of one or two evenings. "in well-regulated houses it was usual to have all the preparations and the housework completed by early in the afternoon of christmas eve, and after an early tea in parlour and kitchen--the servants, clean and neat, piled up the yule clogs in the rooms, getting the large ones well alight, and keeping them going by smaller knots of wood. long, large, white christmas candles were lighted, set in old-fashioned, time-honoured, brass candlesticks, accompanied by equally old and honoured brass snuffers and trays, all bright and shining. of candles, there was no lack, and when all were fairly going, parlour and kitchen presented a blaze of warm, ruddy light, only seen once in the year. in both rooms the christmas eve tables were laid with snowy linen, and set for feasting, with all the good things provided. on each table would be a large piece of beef, and a ham, flanked by the pies and other good things, including a christmas cheese. "about six in the evening, the chief item of the feast was prepared. this was hot spiced ale, usually of a special brew. this was prepared by the gallon in a large kettle, or iron pot, which stood, for the purpose, on the hob. the ale was poured in, made quite hot, but not allowed to boil, and then sugar and spice were added according to taste, some women having a special mode of making the brew. when ready, the hot ale was ladled into bowls,--the large earthenware ones now so rare. a white one, with blue decorations, was used in the parlour, a commoner one, of the yellowish earthenware kind, with rough blue or other coloured bands for ornamentation, being for the kitchen. these, nearly full of the steaming brew, were carried to the tables. whoever then dropped in, and usually there were many, to see parlour or kitchen company, had to drink from these bowls, lifting the bowl to the lips with both hands, expressing a good seasonable wish, and taking a hearty drink. the visitors then partook of anything on the table they liked, and one and all were treated bountifully. soon, as the company arrived, the fun increased in parlour and kitchen, particularly in the latter, as the womenkind went through the old-fashioned ceremony under the mistletoe, which was hung aloft from a highly-decorated 'kissing-bunch.' "all sorts of games and fun went on till about ten o'clock, as a rule, about which time the master, mistress, and family, with the rest of the parlour company, visited the kitchen. then the steaming ale bowl was refilled, and all, beginning with the master and the mistress, in turn drank from the bowl. this over, the parlour company remained, and entered into the games for a time. there was always some one who could sing a suitable song; and one, if song it can be called, was: "_the folks' song._ "when me an' my folks come to see you an' your folks, let you an' your folks treat me an' my folks as kind, as me an' my folks treated you an' your folks, when you an' your folks came to see me an' my folks, sure then! never were such folks since folks were folks! "this was sung several times over with the last two lines as a chorus. the proceedings in the kitchen closed with another general sup from the replenished bowl, the parlour folks returning to the parlour. during the evening the proceedings were varied by visits from christmas singers and the mummers, all of whom were well entertained. usually, if the weather was fit, the kitchen folks wound up the night with a stroll, dropping in to see friends at other houses. as a rule, soon after midnight the feastings were over, but most folks never thought of retiring till they heard the bands of singers in the distance singing the morning hymn, 'christians, awake!'" a very old custom was that of "wassailing" the fruit trees on christmas eve, although it obtained on other days, such as new year's day and twelfth day. herrick says: wassaile the trees that they may beare you many a plum and many a peare; for more or lesse fruits they will bring, as you do give them wassailing. this custom of drinking to the trees and pouring forth libations to them differs according to the locality. in some parts of devonshire it used to be customary for the farmer, with his family and friends, after partaking together of hot cakes and cider (the cakes being dipped in the liquor previous to being eaten), to proceed to the orchard, one of the party bearing hot cake and cider as an offering to the principal apple tree. the cake was formally deposited on the fork of the tree, and the cider thrown over it. in the neighbourhood of the new forest the following lines are sung at the wassailing of the trees: apples and pears, with right good corn come in plenty to every one; eat and drink good cake and hot ale, give earth to drink, and she'll not fail. horsfield, who wrote of sussex, speaks somewhat at length of this subject, and says that the wassail bowl was compounded of ale, sugar, nutmeg, and roasted apples, the latter called "lambs' wool." the wassail bowl is placed on a small round table, and each person present is furnished with a silver spoon to stir. they then walk round the table as they go, and stirring with the right hand, and every alternate person passes at the same time under the arm of his preceding neighbour. the wassailing (or "worsling," as it is termed in west sussex) of the fruit trees is considered a matter of grave importance, and its omission is held to bring ill luck, if not the loss of all the next crop. those who engage in the ceremony are called "howlers." the farm labourers, or boys (says horsfield), after the day's toil is ended, assemble in a group to wassail the apple trees, etc. the trumpeter of the party is furnished with a cow's horn, with which he makes sweet music. thus equipped, they call on the farmer, and inquire, "please, sir, do you want your trees worsled?" they then proceed to the orchard, and encircling one of the largest and best-bearing trees, chant in a low voice a certain doggerel rhyme; and this ended, all shout in chorus, with the exception of the trumpeter, who blows a loud blast. during the ceremony they rap the trees with their sticks. "thus going from tree to tree, or group to group, they wassail the whole orchard; this finished, they proceed to the house of the owner, and sing at his door a song common on the occasion. they are then admitted, and, placing themselves around the kitchen fire, enjoy the sparkling ale and the festivities of the season." there are two wassail rhymes in sussex: "stand fast, root; bear well, top; pray the god send us a good howling crop. every twig, apples big; every bough, apples enow. hats full, caps full, full quarters, sacks full. holloa, boys, holloa! hurrah!" the other is: "here's to thee, old apple tree; may'st thou bud, may'st thou blow, may'st thou bear apples enow! hats full! caps full! bushel, bushel sacks full! and my pockets full, too! hurrah!" in the _gentleman's magazine_ (january , p. ) mention is made of "an ancient superstitious custom obtaining at tretyre, in herefordshire, upon christmas eve. they make a cake, poke a stick through it, fasten it upon the horn of an ox, and say certain words, begging a good crop of corn for the master. the men and boys attending the oxen range themselves around. if the ox throws the cake behind it belongs to the men; if before, to the boys. they take with them a wooden bottle of cyder, and drink it, repeating the charm before mentioned." there is a curious custom at downside college, near bath. on christmas eve the scholars of this well-known institution proceed to the election of their king and other officers of his household, consisting of the mayor of the palace, etc. his reign lasts fourteen days, during which period there are many good feasts; a room in the college being fitted up in fine style, and used by his majesty as his palace. at oxford, too, in pre-reformation time, at merton college, they had a king of christmas, or misrule; at st. john's he was styled lord, and at trinity he was emperor! there is a rather rough but pretty west country carol for christmas eve, which is to be found in davies giddy, or gilbert's _ancient christmas carols, etc._, and which, he says, was chanted in private houses on christmas eve throughout the west of england up to the latter part of the last century. the lord at first did adam make out of the dust and clay, and in his nostrils breathed life, e'en as the scriptures say. and then in eden's paradise he placed him to dwell, that he, within it, should remain, to dress and keep it well. _now let good christians all begin an holy life to live, and to rejoice and merry be, for this is christmas eve._ and then within the garden he commanded was to stay, and unto him in commandment these words the lord did say: "the fruit which in the garden grows to thee shall be for meat, except the tree in the midst thereof, of which thou shall not eat." _now let good christians, etc._ "for in the day that thou shall eat, or to it then come nigh; for if that thou doth eat thereof, then surely thou shalt die." but adam he did take no heed unto the only thing, but did transgress god's holy law, and so was wrapt in sin. _now let good christians, etc._ now, mark the goodness of the lord, which he for mankind bore, his mercy soon he did extend, lost man for to restore; and then, for to redeem our souls from death and hellish thrall, he said his own dear son should be the saviour of us all. _now let good christians, etc._ which promise now is brought to pass, christians, believe it well; and by the coming of god's dear son we are redeemed from thrall. then, if we truly do believe, and do the thing aright; then, by his merits, we, at last, shall live in heaven bright _now let good christians, etc._ and now the tide is nigh at hand in which our saviour came; let us rejoice, and merry be, in keeping of the same. let's feed the poor and hungry souls, and such as do it crave; then, when we die, in heaven sure our reward we shall have. _now let good christians, etc._ christmas eve is notable in the roman catholic church for the unique fact that mass is celebrated at midnight. i say, advisably, _is_ celebrated, because, although cardinal manning abolished public mass at that hour within the diocese of westminster about , yet in conventual establishments it is still kept up, and in every church three masses are celebrated. the ancient, and, in fact, the modern use, until interrupted by cardinal manning, was to celebrate mass at midnight, at daybreak, and at the third hour ( a.m.) this use is very old; for thelesphorus, who was pope a.d. , decreed that three masses should be sung _in festo nativitatis_, to denote that the birth of christ brought salvation to the fathers of three periods--viz. the fathers before, under, and after the law. another roman catholic custom on christmas eve is the preparation of "the manger," which in some places is a very elaborate affair. the christ is lying on straw between the ox and ass, mary and joseph bending over him; the shepherds are kneeling in adoration, and the angels, hovering above, are supposed to be singing the _gloria in excelsis_. a writer in the _catholic world_ (vol. xxxiv. p. ) says:--"christmas dramas are said to owe their origin to st. francis of assisi. before his death he celebrated the sacred birth-night in the woods, where a stable had been prepared with an ox and an ass, and a crib for an altar. a great number of people came down from the mountains, singing joyful hymns and bearing torches in their hands; for it was not fitting that a night that had given light to the whole world, should be shrouded in darkness. st. francis, who loved to associate all nature with his ministry, was filled with joy. he officiated at the mass as deacon. he sang the gospel, and then preached in a dramatic manner on the birth of christ. when he spoke of the lamb of god, he was filled with a kind of divine frenzy, and imitated the plaintive cry of the sacrificial lamb; and, when he pronounced the sweet name of jesus, it was as if the taste of honey were on his lips. one soul before the rural altar, that night, with purer eyes than the rest, saw the divine babe, radiant with eternal beauty, lying in the manger." chapter xii decorating with evergreens--its origin and antiquity--mistletoe in churches--the permissible evergreens--the holly--"holly and ivy"--"here comes holly"--"ivy, chief of trees"--"the contest of the ivy and the holly"--holly folk-lore--church decorations--to be kept up till candlemas day. christmas eve is especially the time for decorating houses and churches with evergreens, a custom which seems to have come from heathen times; at least, no one seems to know when it commenced. polydore vergil[ ] says:--"trymming of the temples with hangynges, floures, boughes, and garlondes, was taken of the heathen people, whiche decked their idols and houses with such array." that it is an old custom in england to deck houses, churches, etc., at christ-tide with evergreens is undoubted--the only question is, how old is it? stow, in his _survey_, says: "against the feast of christmas, every man's house, as also their parish churches, were decked with holme, ivy, bayes, and whatsoever the season of the year afforded to be green. the conduits and standards in the streets were, likewise, garnished; among the which i read that, in the year , by tempest of thunder and lightning, towards the morning of candlemas day, at the leadenhall in cornhill, a standard of tree, being set up in the midst of the pavement, fast in the ground, nailed full of holme and ivie, for disport of christmass to the people, was torne up and cast down by the malignant spirit (as was thought), and the stones of the pavement all about were cast in the streets, and into divers houses, so that the people were sore aghast at the great tempests." [footnote : langley's _abridg._, p. .] stow, we see, makes no mention of mistletoe, nor do we find it in old churchwardens' accounts, because mistletoe was accounted a heathen plant, on account of its association with the druids, and not only was therefore unsuitable to bedeck a place of christian worship, but the old rite of kissing beneath it rendered it inadmissible. still, in queen anne's time, it was recognised as a christmas decoration, for gay in his _trivia_ has sung-- when _rosemary_ and _bays_, the poet's crown, are bawl'd in frequent cries through all the town; then judge the festival of christmas near, christmas, the joyous period of the year! now with bright _holly_ all the temples strow with _laurel_ green, and sacred mistletoe. the mistletoe is found in several counties in england, but the bulk of that which we have now at christ-tide comes from brittany. there is a popular belief that it grows on oaks, possibly on account of druidical tradition to that effect, but, as a matter of fact, its connection with that tree in england is very rare, dr. ball, in a paper in the _journal of botany_, only mentioning seven authentic instances of its growth on the oak tree in this country. it principally makes its _habitat_ on the apple, poplar, hawthorn, lime, maple, and mountain ash, and has been found on the cedar of lebanon and the laurel. the bay tree was believed to have the property of protection against fire or lightning. the ivy was considered to prevent intoxication, and for this reason bacchus is represented as being crowned with ivy leaves. the holly was originally the holy tree, and tradition says that, unknown before, it sprang up in perfection and beauty beneath the footsteps of christ when he first trod the earth, and that, though man has forgotten its attributes, the beasts all reverence it, and are never known to injure it. the four following carols are all of the fifteenth century: holly and ivy holly and ivy made a great party, who should have the mastery in lands where they go. then spake holly, "i am fierce and jolly, i will have the mastery in lands where we go." then spake ivy, "i am loud and proud, and i will have the mastery in lands where we go." then spake holly, and set him down on his knee, "i pray thee, gentle ivy, say[ ] me no villany in lands where we go." [footnote : do.] here comes holly alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, now sing we. here comes holly, that is so gent,[ ] to please all men is his intent, alleluia. but lord and lady of this hall, whosoever against holly call. alleluia. whosoever against holly do cry, in a lepe[ ] he shall hang full high. alleluia. whosoever against holly doth sing, he may weep and hands wring. alleluia. [footnote : pretty.] [footnote : a large basket.] ivy, chief of trees the most worthy she is in town, he that saith other, doth amiss; and worthy to bear the crown; _veni coronaberis._ ivy is soft and meek of speech, against all bale she is bliss; well is he that may her reach, _veni coronaberis._ ivy is green with colour bright, of all trees best she is; and that i prove well now be right, _veni coronaberis._ ivy beareth berries black. god grant us all his bliss; for there shall we nothing lack, _veni coronaberis._ the contest of the ivy and the holly _nay, ivy, nay, it shall not be, i wis, let holly have the mastery as the manner is._ holly standeth in the hall, fair to behold, ivy stands without the door; she is full sore a cold. _nay, ivy, nay_, etc. holly and his merry men, they dancen and they sing; ivy and her maidens, they weepen and they wring. _nay, ivy, nay_, etc. ivy hath a lybe, she caught it with the cold, so may they all have, that with ivy hold. _nay, ivy, nay_, etc. holly hath berries, as red as any rose, the foresters, the hunters, keep them from the does. _nay, ivy, nay_, etc. ivy hath berries, as black as any sloe, there comes the owl and eats them as she go. _nay, ivy, nay_, etc. holly hath birds, a full fair flock, the nightingale, the poppinjay, the gentle laverock. _nay, ivy, nay_, etc. good ivy, good ivy, what birds hast thou? none but the owlet that cries how! how! _nay, ivy, nay_, etc. it is just as well to be particular as to the quality of the holly used in christmas decorations; for on that depends who will be the ruler of the house during the coming year--the wife or the husband. if the holly is smooth the wife will get the upper hand, but if it be prickly, then the husband will gain the supremacy. it is also unlucky to bring holly into the house before christmas eve. and, please, if you are doing at home any decorations for the church, be sure and make them on the ground floor, for it is specially unlucky to make anything intended for use in a church in an upper chamber. the custom of church decoration may possibly have been suggested by a verse in the first lesson appointed to be read on christmas eve--lx. isaiah, . "the glory of lebanon shall come unto thee, the fir tree, the pine tree, and the box together, to beautify the place of my sanctuary." some years ago, at the commencement of the great church revival, the christmas decorations in churches were very elaborate, but they are now, as a rule, much quieter, and the only admissible evergreens are contained in the following distich-- holly and ivy, box and bay, put in the church on christmas day. these decorations, both in church and in private houses, ought to be kept up until the st of february, candlemas eve, when they should be burnt--a proceeding which set fire to the hall of christ church, oxford, in . herrick gives the following:-- ceremonies for candlemasse eve down with the rosemary and bayes, down with the mistleto; instead of holly, now upraise the greener box (for show). the holly, hitherto did sway; let box now domineere; untill the dancing easter day, or easter's eve appeare. the youthfull box, which now hath grace, your houses to renew; grown old, surrender must his place, unto the crisped yew. when yew is out, then birch comes in, and many flowers beside; both of a fresh and fragrant kinne to honour whitsuntide. green rushes then, and sweetest bents, with cooler oken boughs; come in for comely ornaments, to readorn the house thus times do shift; each thing his turn do's hold; _new things succeed, as former things grow old._ and with candlemas day ends all festivity connected with christ-tide. end now the white-loafe, and the pye, and let all sports with christmas dye. chapter xiii legends of the nativity--the angels--the birth--the cradles--the ox and ass--legends of animals--the carol of st. stephen--christmas wolves--dancing for a twelve-months--underground bells--the fiddler and the devil. it would indeed be singular if an event of such importance as the birth, as man, of the son of god had not been specially marked out by signs and wonders, and that many legends concerning these should be rife. naturally he was welcomed by the heavenly host; and abraham a sancta clara, in one of his sermons, gives a vivid description of the wonders that happened on the nativity. "at the time when god's son was born, there came to pass a great many wonderful circumstances. first of all, a countless multitude of angels flew from heaven, and paid their homage to the celestial child in various loving hymns, instead of the usual lullabie, sung to babies. next, the deep snow, which had covered the ground in the same neighbourhood, at once disappeared; and, in its place were to be seen trees covered with a thick foliage of leaves, whilst the earth was decorated with a rich and luxuriant crop of the most beautiful flowers." this visitation of the angels is represented in nearly every old painting of the nativity, some, like botticelli, giving a whole band of angels, others contenting themselves with two or three, sufficient to indicate their presence. fra jacopone da todi sings: little angels all around danced and carols flung; making verselets sweet and true, still of love they sung; calling saints and sinners too, with love's tender tongue. lope de vega makes our lady caution the angels as they come through the palm trees-- holy angels, and blest, through these palms as ye sweep, hold their branches at rest, for my babe is asleep. and ye, bethlehem palm-trees, as stormy winds rush in tempest and fury, your angry noise hush;-- move gently, move gently, restrain your wild sweep; hold your branches at rest, my babe is asleep. mrs. jameson[ ] says that "one legend relates that joseph went to seek a midwife, and met a woman coming down from the mountains, with whom he returned to the stable. but, when they entered, it was filled with light greater than the sun at noonday; and, as the light decreased, and they were able to open their eyes, they beheld mary sitting there with her infant at her bosom. and the hebrew woman, being amazed, said: 'can this be true?' and mary answered, 'it is true; as there is no child like unto my son, so there is no woman like unto his mother.'" [footnote : _legends of the madonna_, p. .] le bon,[ ] speaking of the cradle of jesus, says: "according to tradition, the stone cradle contained one of wood. that of stone still exists at bethlehem, not in its primitive state, but decorated with white marble, and enriched with magnificent draperies. the wooden one was, in the seventh century, at the time of the mahometan invasion in the east, transported to rome, then become the new jerusalem, the bethlehem of a new people. it there reposes in the superb basilica of santa maria maggiore, where it is guarded by the eternal city with more affection than the ark of the covenant, and with more respect than the cottage of romulus. centuries have not been able to enfeeble the veneration and the love with which this trophy of the love of god for his creatures has been surrounded. this cradle, this sacred monument, reposes in a shrine of crystal, mounted on a stand of silver enamelled with gold and precious stones, the splendid offering of philip iv., king of spain. this shrine is preserved in a brazen coffer, and is only exposed for veneration--on the grand altar, once a year, on christmas day." [footnote : _fleurs de catholicisme_, vol. iii. p. .] the ox and ass are indispensable accessories to a picture of the nativity, and it is said that their introduction rests on an old tradition mentioned by st. jerome, and also on a text of prophecy: "the ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib."[ ] tradition says that these animals recognised and worshipped their divine master. [footnote : isaiah i. .] in præsepe ponitur, sub foeno asinorum, cognoverunt dominum, christum, regem coelorum. et a brutis noscitur, matris velo tegitur. so also it is believed in many places that at midnight on christmas eve all cattle bowed their knees; and brand gives an instance of this legend, and says "that a cornish peasant told him in of his having, with some others, watched several oxen in their stalls on the eve of old christmas day, and that at twelve o'clock, they observed the two oldest oxen fall upon their knees and (as he expressed it in the idiom of the country) make a cruel moan like christian creatures." there is another legend which relates how other animals took part in the announcement of the saviour's coming on earth. prætorius says: vacca _puer natus_ clamabat nocte sub ipsa, qua christus purâ virgine natus homo est; sed, quia dicenti nunquam bene creditur uni, addebat facti testis, asellus; _ita_. dumque aiebat; _ubi?_ clamoso guttere gallus; _in betlem, betlem_, vox geminabat ovis. felices nimium pecudes, pecorumque magistri, qui norunt dominum concelebrare suum. hone describes a curious sheet of carols printed in london in . "it is headed 'christus natus est; _christ is born_,' with a wood-cut inches high by - / inches wide, representing the stable of bethlehem; christ in the crib, watched by the virgin and joseph; shepherds kneeling, angels attending; a man playing on the bagpipes; a woman with a basket of fruit on her head; a sheep bleating, and an ox lowing on the ground; a raven croaking, and a crow cawing, on the hay rack; a cock crowing above them; and angels singing in the sky. the animals have labels from their mouths bearing latin inscriptions. down the side of the wood-cut is the following account and explanation:--'a religious man inventing the concerts of both birds and beasts drawn in the picture of our saviour's birth, doth thus express them: the cock croweth, _christus natus est_--christ is born. the raven asked _quando_?--when? the crow replied, _hac nocte_--this night. the ox crieth out, _ubi? ubi?_--where? where? the sheep bleateth out _bethlehem_. a voice from heaven sounded, _gloria in excelsis_--glory be on high!'" another pictorial representation of this legend is mentioned by the rev. dr. john mason neale in _the unseen world_ (p. ). an example which, in modern times, would be considered ludicrous, of the manner in which our ancestors made external nature bear witness to our lord, occurs in what is called the prior's chamber in the small augustinian house of shulbrede, in the parish of linchmere, in sussex. on the wall is a fresco of the nativity; and certain animals are made to give their testimony to that event in words which somewhat resemble, or may be supposed to resemble, their natural sounds. a cock, in the act of crowing, stands at the top, and a label, issuing from his mouth, bears the words, _christus natus est_. a duck inquires, _quando? quando?_ a raven hoarsely answers, _in hac nocte_. a cow asks, _ubi? ubi?_ and a lamb bleats out _bethlehem_. this idea that beasts were endowed with human speech on christmas night was very widespread, as the following legend well instances, it being common both to switzerland and suabia. one christmas night, in order to test the truth of this legend, a peasant crept slyly upon that solemn and holy night into the stable, where his oxen were quietly chewing the hay set before them. an instant after the peasant had hidden himself, one of the oxen said to another "we are going to have a hard and heavy task to do this week." "how is that? the harvest is got in and we have drawn home all the winter fuel." "that is so," was the reply, "but we shall have to drag a coffin to the churchyard, for our poor master will most certainly die this week." the peasant shrieked, and fell back, senseless, was taken home, and the ox's prophecy was duly fulfilled. it is also thought that the cocks crow all night at christmas, and bourne says, anent this belief, that it was about the time of cock crowing when our saviour was born, and the heavenly host had then descended to sing the first christmas carol to the poor shepherds in the fields of bethlehem. shakespeare mentions this popular tradition in hamlet, act i. sc. i.:-- some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes wherein our saviour's birth is celebrated, the bird of dawning singeth all night long: and then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad; the nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, no fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, so hallow'd and so gracious is the time. but there is yet another legend of cock-crowing which is found in a carol for st. stephen's day, temp. henry vi.:-- saint stephen was a clerk in king herod his hall, and served him of bread and cloth, as ever king befall. stephen out of kitchen came with boar his head on hand, he saw a star was fair and bright over bethlem stand. he cast adown the boar his head, and went into the hall. "i forsake thee, king herod, and thy works all. "i forsake thee, king herod, and thy works all, there is a child in bethlem born, is better than we all." "what aileth thee, stephen, what is thee befall? lacketh thee either meat or drink, in king herod his hall?" "lacketh me neither meat nor drink, in king herod his hall; there is a child in bethlem born, is better than we all." "what aileth thee, stephen, art thou wode,[ ] or ginnest to brede[ ] lacketh thee either gold or fee, or any rich weed?"[ ] "lacketh me neither gold nor fee, nor none rich weed, there is a child in bethlem born shall help us at our need." "that is all so sooth, stephen, all so sooth, i wis, as this capon crow shall, that lyeth here in my dish." that word was not so soon said, that word in that hall, the capon crew, _christus natus est_! among the lords, all. riseth up my tormentors, by two, and all by one, and leadeth stephen out of this town and stoneth him with stone. tooken they stephen and stoned him in the way, and therefore is his even, on christ his own day. [footnote : mad.] [footnote : beginnest to upbraid.] [footnote : dress.] there are several minor legends of animals and christ-tide--for instance, at this time the bees are said to hum the old hundredth psalm, but this is mild to what olaus magnus tells us _of the fiercenesse of men, who by charms are turned into wolves_:--"in the feast of christ's nativity, in the night, at a certain place, that they are resolved upon amongst themselves, there is gathered together such a huge multitude of wolves changed from men, that dwell in divers places, which afterwards, the same night, doth so rage with wonderfull fiercenesse, both against mankind, and other creatures that are not fierce by nature, that the inhabitants of that country suffer more hurt from them than ever they do from the true natural wolves. for, as it is proved, they sit upon the houses of men that are in the woods, with wonderfull fiercenesse, and labour to break down the doors, whereby they may destroy both men and other creatures that remain there. "they go into the beer-cellars, and there they drink out some tuns of beer or mede, and they heap al the empty vessels one upon another in the midst of the cellar, and so leave them; wherin they differ from the natural and true wolves. but the place, where, by chance they stayed that night, the inhabitants of those countries think to be prophetical; because, if any ill successe befall a man in that place; as if his cart overturn, and he be thrown down in the snow, they are fully persuaded that man must die that year, as they have, for many years, proved it by experience. between _lituania_, _samogetia_ and _curonia_, there is a certain wall left, of a castle that was thrown down; to this, at a set time, some thousands of them come together, that each of them may try his nimblenesse in leaping. he that cannot leap over this wall, as commonly the fat ones cannot, are beaten with whips by their captains." there is a story told of another magnus, only in this case it was a saint of that name. on christmas eve, in the year , a party of about thirty-three young men and women were merrily dancing in the churchyard of a certain church, dedicated to st. magnus. a priest was at his devotions inside the church, and was so much disturbed by their merriment that he sent to them, asking them to desist for a while. but of this they took no heed, although the message was more than once repeated. thereupon, waxing indignant, the holy man prayed his patron saint, st. magnus, to visit the offenders with condign punishment. his prayer was heard, and the result was that the festive crew could not leave off dancing. for twelve whole months they continued dancing; night and day, winter and summer, through sunshine or storm, they had to prance. they knew no weariness, they needed no rest, nor did their clothes or boots wear out; but they wore away the surface of the earth so much that at the end of the twelvemonths they were in a hole up to their middles. the legend goes on to say, that on the expiration of their terpsichorean punishment they slept continuously for three days and nights. there are some curious legends of underground bells which sound only at christmas. a writer in _notes and queries_ ( series, ii. ) says--"near raleigh, notts, there is a valley said to have been caused by an earthquake several hundred years ago, which swallowed up a whole village, together with the church. formerly, it was a custom of the people to assemble in this valley every christmas day morning to listen to the ringing of the bells of the church beneath them. this, it was positively stated, might be heard by placing the ear to the ground, and hearkening attentively. as late as it was usual on this morning for old men and women to tell their children and young friends to go to the valley, stoop down, and hear the bells ring merrily. the villagers heard the ringing of the bells of a neighbouring church, the sound of which was communicated by the surface of the ground. a similar belief exists, or did, a short time ago, at preston, lancashire." this legend is not peculiar to england, for there is the same told of a place in the netherlands, named been, near zoutleeuw, now engulphed in the ocean. it was a lovely and a stately city, but foul with sin, when our lord descended to earth upon a christmas night to visit it. all the houses were flaming with lights, and filled with luxury and debauchery; and, as our lord, in the guise of a beggar, passed from door to door, there was not found a single person who would afford him the slightest relief. then, in his wrath, he spoke one word, and the waves of the sea rushed over the wicked city, and it was never seen more; but the place where it was immersed is known by the sound of the church bells coming up through the waters on a christmas night. in spite of shakespeare's dictum that "no spirit dares stir abroad," the rule would not seem to obtain in the isle of man--for there is a legend there, how a fiddler, having agreed with a stranger to play, during the twelve days of christmas, to whatever company he should bring him, was astonished at seeing his new master vanish into the earth as soon as the bargain had been made. terrified at the thought of having agreed to work for such a mysterious personage, he quickly resorted to the clergyman, who ordered him to fulfil his engagement, but to play nothing but psalms. accordingly, as soon as christ-tide arrived, the weird stranger made his appearance, and beckoned the fiddler to a spot where some company was assembled. on reaching his destination, he at once struck up a psalm tune, which so enraged his audience that they instantly vanished, but not without so violently bruising him that it was with difficulty that he reached home to tell his novel christmas experience. chapter xiv the glastonbury thorn, its legend--cuttings from it--oaks coming into leaf on christmas day--folk-lore--forecast, according to the days of the week on which christmas falls--other folk-lore thereon. even the vegetable world contributed to the wonders of christmas, for was there not the famous glastonbury thorn which blossomed on old christmas day? legend says that this was the walking staff of joseph of arimathæa, who, after christ's death, came over to england and settled at glastonbury, where, having planted his staff in the ground, it put forth leaves, and miraculously flowered on the festival of the nativity; and it is a matter of popular belief, not always followed out by practice, that it does so to this day. the fact is that this thorn, the _cratægus præcox_, will, in a mild and suitable season, blossom before christmas. it is not a particularly rare plant. aubrey thus speaks of it in his _natural history of wiltshire_. "mr. anthony hinton, one of the officers of the earle of pembroke, did inoculate, not long before the late civill warres (ten yeares or more), a bud of glastonbury thorne, on a thorne, at his farm house, at wilton, which blossoms at christmas, as the other did. my mother has had branches of them for a flower-pott, several christmasses, which i have seen. elias ashmole, esq., in his notes upon _theatrum chymicum_, saies that in the churchyard of glastonbury grew a walnutt tree that did putt out young leaves at christmas, as doth the king's oake in the new forest. in parham park, in suffolk (mr. boutele's), is a pretty ancient thorne, that blossomes like that at glastonbury; the people flock hither to see it on christmas day. but in the rode that leades from worcester to droitwiche is a black thorne hedge at clayes, half a mile long or more, that blossoms about christmas day, for a week or more together. dr. ezerel tong sayd that about rumly-marsh, in kent, are thornes naturally like that near glastonbury. the soldiers did cutt downe that near glastonbury; the stump remaines." several trees which are descended by cuttings from the holy thorn still exist in and about glastonbury. one of them, of somewhat scanty and straggling growth, occupies the site of the original thorn, on the summit of weary-all hill. another, a much finer tree, compact and healthy, stands on private premises, near the entrance of a house that faces the abbot's kitchen. these descendants of the holy thorn inherit the famous peculiarity of that tree. the _gentleman's magazine_ for , has the following in its "historical chronicle" for january. "_quainton in buckinghamshire, dec. ._ above people came here this night, with lanthorns and candles, to view a black thorn which grows in the neighbourhood, and which was remembered (this year only) to be a slip from the famous _glastonbury_ thorn, that it always budded on the th, was full blown the next day, and went all off at night; but the people, finding no appearance of a bud, 'twas agreed by all that decemb. , n.s., could not be the right _christmas day_,[ ] and, accordingly, refused going to church, and treating their friends on that day, as usual: at length the affair became so serious that the ministers of the neighbouring villages, in order to appease the people, thought it prudent to give notice that the old _christmas day_ should be kept holy as before. [footnote : this was the first christmas day, new style: the change taking place sept. , , which became sept. .] "_glastonbury._ a vast concourse of people attended the noted thorns on _christmas eve_, new stile; but, to their great disappointment, there was no appearance of its blowing, which made them watch it narrowly the th of _jan._, the _christmas-day_, old stile, when it blow'd as usual." a writer in _notes and queries_ ( series ix. ) says, "a friend of mine met a girl on old christmas day, in a village of north somerset, who told him that she was going to see the christmas thorn in blossom. he accompanied her to an orchard, where he found a tree, propagated from the celebrated glastonbury thorn, and gathered from it several sprigs in blossom. afterwards, the girl's mother informed him that it had, formerly, been the custom for the youth of both sexes to assemble under the tree at midnight, on christmas eve, in order to hear the bursting of the buds into flower; and, she added, 'as they com'd out, you could hear 'em haffer.'"[ ] [footnote : crackle.] this celebration of christ-tide was not confined to this thorn--some oaks put forth leaves on christmas day. aubrey says that an oak in the new forest "putteth forth young leaves on christmas-day, for about a week at that time of the yeare. old mr. hastings, of woodlands, was wont to send a basket full of them to king charles i. i have seen of them several christmasses brought to my father. but mr. perkins, who lives in the new forest, sayes that there are two other oakes besides that, which breed green buddes after christmas day (pollards also), but not constantly." there is yet another bit of folk-lore anent flowers and christ-tide which may be found in _the connoisseur_, no. , feb. , . "our maid, betty, tells me that, if i go backwards, without speaking a word, into the garden, upon midsummer eve, and gather a rose, and keep it in a clean sheet of paper, without looking at it, 'till christmas day, it will be as fresh as in june; and, if i then stick it in my bosom, he that is to be my husband will come and take it out." it is perhaps as well to know what will happen to us if the feast of the nativity falls on a particular day in the week--as, according to the proverb, "forewarned is fore armed." nowe takethe heed, euery man, that englisshe vnderstonde can, if that crystmasse day falle vpon sonday, wittethe weel alle, that wynter saysoun shal been esy, save gret wyndes on lofft shal flye. the somer affter al-so bee drye, and right saysounable, i seye. beestis and sheepe shal threue right weel, but other vytayle shal fayle, mooste deel.[ ] * * * * * be kynde shal, with-outen lees, alle landes thanne shal haue pees. but offt-tymes, for synne that is doone, grace is wyth-drawen from many oone and goode tyme alle thinges for to do; but who-so feelethe, is sone for-do. what chylde that day is borne, gret and ryche he shal be of corne. if cristmasse day on monday bee, gret wynter that yeer shal ghee see, and ful of wynde lowde and scille;[ ] but the somer, truwly to telle, shal bee sterne with wynde also, ful of tempeste eeke ther-too; and vitayles shal soo multeplye, and gret moryne of bestes shal hye. they that bee borne, with-outen weene, shoulle be strong men and kene. if crystmasse day on tuysday be, wymmen shal dye gret plentee. that wynter shal shewe gret merveylle shippes shal bee in gret parayle; that yeer shal kynges and lordes bee sleyne, in lande, of werre gret woone,[ ] certayne. a drye somer shal be that yeere; alle that been borne that day in-feere, they been stronge and coveytous, but theyre ende shal be petous;[ ] they shal dye with swerd or knyff. if thou stele ought, hit leesethe thy lyfe; but if thou falle seeke, certayne, thou shalt tourne to lyf ageyne. if that the cristmasse day falle vpon a weddensday, that yeere shal be hardee and strong, and many huge wyndes amonge. the somer goode and mury shal be, and that yeere shal be plentee. yonge folkes shal dye alsoo; shippes in the see, tempest and woo. what chylde that day is borne is his fortune to be doughty and wys, discrete al-so and sleeghe of deede, to fynde feel[ ] folkes mete and weede.[ ] if cristmasse day on therusday bee, a wonder wynter yee shoule see, of wyndes, and of weders wicke,[ ] tempestes eeke many and thicke. the somer shal bee strong and drye, corne and beestes shal multeplye, ther as the lande is goode of tilthe; but kynges and lordes shal dye by filthe what chylde that day eborne bee, he shal no dowte right weel ethee,[ ] of deedes that been good and stable. of speeche ful wyse and raysonable. who-so that day bee thefft aboute, he shall bee shent,[ ] with-outen doute; but if seeknesse that day thee felle, hit may not long with thee dwelle. if cristmasse day on fryday be, the frost of wynter harde shal be, the frost, snowe and the floode; but at the eende hit shal bee goode. the somer goode and feyre alsoo, folke in eerthe shal haue gret woo. wymmen with chylde, beestes and corne, shal multeplye, and noon be lorne.[ ] the children that been borne that day, shoule longe lyve, and lechcherous ay. if cristmasse day on saturday falle, that wynter wee most dreeden alle. hit shal bee ful of foule tempest, that hit shal slee bothe man and beest. fruytes and corne shal fayle, gret woone, and eelde folk dye many oon. what woman that of chylde travayle, they shoule bee boothe in gret parayle. and children that been borne that day, with june half yeere shal dy, no nay. [footnote : there seems to be a hiatus here.] [footnote : shrill.] [footnote : abundance.] [footnote : piteous.] [footnote : many.] [footnote : clothing.] [footnote : wicked, foul.] [footnote : thrive.] [footnote : brought to confusion.] [footnote : lost.] the _shepherd's kalendar_ says: "if the sun shines clear and bright on christmas day, it promises a peaceful year, free from clamours and strife, and foretells much plenty to ensue; but if the wind blows stormy towards sunset, it betokens sickness in the spring and autumn quarters." another authority, _husband-man's practice_, warns us that "when christmas day cometh while the moon waxeth, it shall be a very good year, and the nearer it cometh to the new moon, the better shall that year be. if it cometh when the moon decreaseth, it shall be a hard year, and the nearer the latter end thereof it cometh, the worse and harder shall the year be." the same book says: "the wise and cunning masters in astrology have found that men may see and mark the weather of the holy christmas night, how the whole year after shall be in his working and doing, and they shall speak on this wise: "when on the christmas night and evening it is very fair and clear weather, and is without wind and rain, then it is a token that this year will be plenty of wine and fruite. "but if the contrariwise, foul weather and windy, so shall it be very scant of wine and fruite. "but if the wind arise at the rising of the sun, then it betokeneth great dearth among beasts and cattle this year. "but if the wind arise at the going down of the same, then it signifieth death to come among kings and other great lords." chapter xv withholding light--"wesley bob"--wassail carol--presents in church--morris dancers--"first foot"--red-haired men--lamprey pie--"hodening"--its possible origin--the "mari lhoyd." there was a curious tradition in the north of england, which is practically done away with in these days of lucifer matches. in the old days of tinder boxes, if any one failed to get a light, it was of no use his going round to the neighbours to get one, for even his dearest friends would refuse him, it being considered _most unlucky_ to allow any light to leave the house between christmas eve and new year's day, both inclusive. no reason has been found for this singular and somewhat churlish custom. another north country custom, especially at leeds, was for the children to go from house to house carrying a "wessel (or wesley) bob," a kind of bower made of evergreens, inside which were placed a couple of dolls, representing the virgin and infant christ. this was covered with a cloth until they came to a house door, when it was uncovered. at huddersfield, a "wessel bob" was carried about, gorgeously ornamented with apples, oranges, and ribbons, and when they reached a house door they sung the following carol: here we come a wassailing among the leaves so green, here we come a wandering so fair to be seen. _chorus._ for it is in christmas time strangers travel far and near, so god bless you, and send you a happy new year. we are not daily beggars, that beg from door to door, but we are neighbours' children, whom you have seen before. call up the butler of this house, put on his golden ring, let him bring us a glass of beer, and the better we shall sing. we have got a little purse made of stretching leather skin, we want a little of your money to line it well within. bring us out a table, and spread it with a cloth; bring out a mouldy cheese, also your christmas loaf. god bless the master of the house, likewise the mistress too, and all the little children that round the table go. good master and mistress, while you're sitting by the fire, pray think of us poor children who are wand'ring in the mire.[ ] [footnote : those who went round thus were called "vessel cup women."] at aberford, near leeds, two dolls were carried about in boxes in a similar manner, and they were called "wesley (_wassail_) boxes." whilst on the subject of yorkshire christmas customs, i may mention that a correspondent of the _gentleman's magazine_ ( , vol. , p. ), says that at ripon the singing boys came into the church with large baskets of red apples, with a sprig of rosemary stuck in each, which they present to all the congregation, and generally have a return made to them of d., d., or d., according to the quality of the lady or gentleman. in the _history of yorkshire_ ( , p. ) it tells how, during the christmas holidays, the sword or morisco dance used to be practised at richmond by young men dressed in shirts ornamented with ribbons folded into roses, having swords, or wood cut in the form of that weapon. they exhibited various feats of activity, attended by an old fiddler, by "bessy," in the grotesque habit of an old woman, and by the fool, almost covered with skins, a hairy cap on his head, and the tail of a fox hanging from his head. these led the festive throng, and diverted the crowd with their droll antic buffoonery. the office of one of these characters was to go about rattling a box, and soliciting money from door to door to defray the expenses of a feast, and a dance in the evening.[ ] [footnote : this dance is thus described in _notes and queries_ ( th series, xii. ). "six youths, called sword dancers, dressed in white and decked with ribbons, accompanied by a fiddler, a boy in fantastic attire, the bessy, and a doctor, practised a rude dance till new year's day, when they ended with a feast. the bessy interfered, whilst the dancers, surrounded him with swords, and he was killed."] in sheffield the custom of "first-foot" is kept up on christmas day and new year's day, but there is no distinction as to complexion or colour of hair of the male who first enters the house. a correspondent in _notes and queries_ ( rd series, i. ), writes: "the object of desire is that the first person who enters a house on the morning of christmas day or that of new year's day, should have black or dark hair. many make arrangements by special invitation that some man or boy of dark hair, and otherwise approved, should present himself at an early hour to wish the compliments of the season, and the door is not opened to let any one else in until the arrival of the favoured person. he is regaled with spice cake and cheese, and with ale or spirits, as the case may be. all the 'ill luck'--that is, the untoward circumstances of the year, would be ascribed to the accident of a person with light hair having been the first to enter a dwelling on the mornings referred to. i have known instances where such persons, innocently presenting themselves, have met with anything but a christmas welcome. the great object of dread is a red-haired man or boy (women or girls of any coloured hair or complexion are not admissible as the first visitors at all), and all light shades are objectionable. "i have not been able to trace the origin of the custom, nor do i remember having read any explanation of its meaning. i once heard an aged woman, who was a most stern observer of all customs of the neighbourhood, especially those which had an air of mystery or a superstition attached to them, attempt to connect the observance with the disciple who sold the saviour. in her mind all the observances of christmas were associated with the birth or death of christ, and she made no distinction whatever between the events which attended the nativity, and those which preceded and followed the crucifixion. she told me that judas had red hair, and it was in vain to argue with her that he had no connection whatever with the events which our christmas solemnities and festivities were intended to commemorate. it satisfied her mind, and that was enough. after many inquiries, i was not able to obtain any answer more reasonable." more than twenty-two years after the above, another correspondent writing on the subject to the same periodical ( th series, x. ) says (speaking of yorkshire): "the first person to enter the house on a christmas morning must be a male, and the first thing brought in must be green. some folks used to lay a bunch of holly on the doorstep on christmas eve, so as to be ready. some say you must not admit a _strange_ woman on christmas day; but i have heard of one old gentleman near york who would never permit _any_ woman to enter his house on a christmas day." it was formerly the custom of the city of gloucester to present a lamprey pie to the king at christmas. this custom was kept up until early in this century, when it fell into desuetude. it was revived in , not at christmas, but in may, when a beautiful pie, with finely moulded paste, and enamelled silver skewers, which also served as spoons, was presented to her majesty. there was, or is, a curious custom in kent at christ-tide called "hodening," the best account of which that i have seen is in the _church times_ of january , : "hodening was observed on christmas eve at walmer in , which was the last time i spent the festival there," writes one antiquary. another writes: "when i was a lad, about forty-five years since, it was always the custom, on christmas eve, with the male farm servants from every farm in our parish of hoath (borough of reculver), and neighbouring parishes of herne and chislet, to go round in the evening from house to house with the hoodining horse, which consisted of the imitation of a horse's head made of wood, life size, fixed on a stick about the length of a broom handle, the lower jaw of the head was made to open with hinges, a hole was made through the roof of the mouth, then another through the forehead, coming out by the throat; through this was passed a cord attached to the lower jaw, which, when pulled by the cord at the throat, caused it to close and open; on the lower jaw large-headed hobnails were driven in to form the teeth. the strongest of the lads was selected for the horse; he stooped, and made as long a back as he could, supporting himself by the stick carrying the head; then he was covered with a horsecloth, and one of his companions mounted his back. the horse had a bridle and reins. then commenced the kicking, rearing, jumping, etc., and the banging together of the teeth. as soon as the doors were opened the 'horse' would pull his string incessantly, and the noise made can be better imagined than described. i confess that, in my very young days, i was horrified at the approach of the hoodining horse, but, as i grew older, i used to go round with them. i was at hoath on thursday last, and asked if the custom was still kept up. it appears it is now three or four years since it has taken place. i never heard of it in the isle of thanet. there was no singing going on with the hoodining horse, and the party was strictly confined to the young men who went with the horses on the farms. i have seen some of the wooden heads carved out quite hollow in the throat part, and two holes bored through the forehead to form the eyes. the lad who played the horse would hold a lighted candle in the hollow, and you can imagine how horrible it was to any one who opened the door to see such a thing close to his eyes. carollers in those days were called hoodiners in the parishes i have named." and the following communication is interesting and valuable: "some such custom prevailed in the seventh century. in the _penitential_ of archbishop theodore (d. ) penances are ordained for 'any who, on the kalends of january, clothe themselves with the skins of cattle and carry heads of animals.' the practice is condemned as being _dæmoniacum_ (see kemble's _saxons_, vol. i., p. ). the custom would, therefore, seem to be of pagan origin, and the date is practically synchronous with christmas, when, according to the rites of scandinavian mythology, one of the three great annual festivals commenced. at the sacrifices which formed part of these festivals, the horse was a frequent victim in the offerings to odin for martial success, just as in the offerings to frey for a fruitful year the hog was the chosen animal. i venture, therefore, to suggest that _hodening_ (or probably _odening_) is a relic of the scandinavian mythology of our forefathers." brand says: "it has been satisfactorily shown that the _mari lhoyd_, or horse's skull decked with ribbons, which used to be carried about at christmas in wales, was not exclusively a welsh custom, but was known and practised in the border counties. it was undoubtedly a form of the old english hobby horse, one universally prevalent as a popular sport, and conducted, as the readers of strutt, douce, and others are already well aware, with all kinds of grotesque and whimsical mummery." chapter xvi curious gambling customs in church--boon granted--sheaf of corn for the birds--crowning of the cock--"the lord mayor of pennyless cove"--"letting in yule"--guisards--christmas in the highlands--christmas in shetland--christmas in ireland. in was published "the popish kingdome, or, reigne of antichrist, written in latin verse by thomas naogeorgus (kirchmayer) and englished by barnabe googe," and in it we have some curious christmas customs and folk-lore. then comes the day wherein the lorde did bring his birth to passe; whereas at midnight up they rise, and every man to masse. this time so holy counted is, that divers earnestly do thinke the waters all to wine are chaunged sodainly; in that same houre that christ himselfe was borne, and came to light, and unto water streight againe transformde and altred quight. there are beside that mindfully the money still do watch, that first to aultar commes, which then they privily do snatch. the priestes, least other should it have, takes oft the same away, whereby they thinke, throughout the yeare to have good lucke in play, and not to lose: then straight at game till day-light do they strive, to make some present proofe how well their hallowde pence wil thrive. three masses every priest doth sing upon that solemne day, with offrings unto every one, that so the more may play. this done, a woodden child in clowtes is on the aultar set, about the which both boyes and gyrles do daunce and trymly jet, and carrols sing in prayse of christ, and, for to helpe them heare, the organs aunswere every verse with sweete and solemne cheere. the priestes doe rore aloude; and round about the parentes stande, to see the sport, and with their voyce do helpe them and their hande. another old christmas belief may be found in the _golden legend_, printed by wynkyn de worde, where it is said, "that what persone beynge in clene lyfe desyre on thys daye (_christmas_) a boone of god: as ferre as it is ryghtfull and good for hym, our lorde at reuerence of thys blessid and hye feste of his natiuite wol graunt it to hym." most english christmas customs, save the christmas tree, cards, and the stocking hung up to receive gifts, are old, but one of the prettiest modern ones that i know of was started by the rev. j. kenworthy, rector of ackworth, in yorkshire, about forty years since, of hanging a sheaf of corn outside the church porch, on christmas eve, for the special benefit of the birds. it seems a pity that it is not universally practised in rural parishes. to be spoken of in the past tense also are, i fear, the christ-tide customs of wales--the _mari lhoyd_, or _lwyd_, answering to the kentish _hodening_, and the _pulgen_, or the crowning of the cock, which was a simple religious ceremony. about three o'clock on christmas morning the welsh in many parts used to assemble in church, and, after prayers and a sermon, continue there singing psalms and hymns with great devotion till it was daylight; and if, through age or infirmity, any were disabled from attending, they never failed having prayers at home and carols on our saviour's nativity. at tenby it was customary at four o'clock on christmas morning for the young men of the town to escort the rector with lighted torches from his residence to the church. sometimes also, before or after christmas day, the fishermen of tenby dressed up one of their number, whom they called the "lord mayor of pennyless cove," with a covering of evergreens and a mask over his face; they would then carry him about, seated in a chair, with flags flying, and a couple of violins playing before him. before every house the "lord mayor" would address the occupants, wishing them a merry christmas and a happy new year. if his good wishes were responded to with money his followers gave three cheers, the masquer would himself give thanks, and the crowd again cheered. in scotland, christ-tide is not observed as much as in england, the scotch reserving all their festive energy for the new year. yet, in some parts of scotland, he who first opens the door on yule day is esteemed more fortunate during the coming year than the remainder of the family, because he "lets in yule." and yule is treated as a real person, as some people set a table or chair, covered with a clean cloth, in the doorway, and set upon it bread and cheese for yule. it is common also to have a table covered in the house from morning till night with bread and drink upon it, that every one who calls may take a portion, and it is considered particularly inauspicious if any one comes into a house and leaves it without doing so. however many be the callers during the day, all must partake of the good cheer. in chambers's _popular rhymes_ (ed. , p. ), it is said that the doings of the guisards (masquers) form a conspicuous feature in the new year proceedings throughout scotland. the evenings on which these persons are understood to be privileged to appear are those of christmas, hogmanay, new year's day, and handsel monday. dressed in quaint and fantastic attire, they sing a selection of songs which have been practised by them some weeks before. there were important doings, however--one of a theatrical character. there is one rude and grotesque drama (called galatian) which they are accustomed to perform on each of the four above-mentioned nights; and which, in various fragments or versions, exists in every part of lowland scotland. the performers, who are never less than three, but sometimes as many as six, having dressed themselves, proceed in a band from house to house, generally contenting themselves with the kitchen as an arena, whither, in mansions presided over by the spirit of good humour, the whole family will resort to witness the scene of mirth. grant, in his _popular superstitions of the highlands_, says that as soon as the brightening glow of the eastern sky warns the anxious housemaid of the approach of christmas day, she rises, full of anxiety at the prospect of her morning labours. the meal, which was steeped in the _sowans bowie_ a fortnight ago to make the _prechdacdan sour_, or _sour scones_, is the first object of her attention. the gridiron is put on the fire, and the sour scones are soon followed by hard cakes, soft cakes, buttered cakes, bannocks, and _pannich perm_. the baking being once over, the sowans pot succeeds the gridiron, full of new sowans, which are to be given to the family, agreeably to custom, this day in their beds. the sowans are boiled into the consistency of molasses, when the _lagan-le-vrich_, or yeast bread, to distinguish it from boiled sowans, is ready. it is then poured into as many bickers as there are individuals to partake of it, and presently served to the whole, both old and young. as soon as each despatches his bicker, he jumps out of bed--the elder branches to examine the ominous signs of the day, and the younger to enter into its amusements. flocking to the swing--a favourite amusement on this occasion, the youngest of the family gets the first "shouder," and the next oldest to him, in regular succession. in order to add more to the spirit of the exercise, it is a common practice with the person in the swing, and the person appointed to swing him, to enter into a very warm and humorous altercation. as the swung person approaches the swinger, he exclaims, "_ei mi tu chal_"--"i'll eat your kail." to this the swinger replies, with a violent shove, "_cha ni u mu chal_"--"you shan't eat my kail." these threats and repulses are sometimes carried to such a height as to break down or capsize the threatener, which generally puts an end to the quarrel. as the day advances those minor amusements are terminated at the report of the gun, or the rattle of the ball-clubs--the gun inviting the marksmen to the _kiavamuchd_, or prize-shooting, and the latter to _luchd-vouil_, or the ball combatants--both the principal sports of the day. tired at length of the active amusements of the field, they exchange them for the substantial entertainment of the table. groaning under the "_sonsy haggis_" and many other savoury dainties, unseen for twelve months before, the relish communicated to the company by the appearance of the festive board is more easily conceived than described. the dinner once despatched, the flowing bowl succeeds, and the sparkling glass flies to and fro like a weaver's shuttle. the rest of the day is spent in dancing and games. an old shetlander, telling about yule-time in shetland[ ] in his boyhood, says: "i daresay yule--the dear yule i remember so well--will ere long be known and spoken of only as a tradition; for, altogether, life in those islands is now very different from what it was some fifty or sixty years ago." yule, it seems, was then kept on old christmas day, and great were the preparations made for it. everybody had to have a new suit of clothes for the season, and the day began with a breakfast at nine--a veritable feast of fat things; and "before we rise from the table, we have yet to partake of the crowning glory of a yule breakfast, and without which we should not look upon it as a yule breakfast at all. from the sideboard are now brought and set before our host a large china punch-bowl, kept expressly for the purpose; a salver, with very ancient, curiously-shaped large glasses--also kept sacred to the occasion--and a cake-basket heaped with rich, crisp shortbread. the bowl contains _whipcol_, the venerable and famous yule breakfast beverage. i do not know the origin or etymology of the name _whipcol_. i do not think it is to be found in any of the dictionaries. i do not know if it was a yule drink of our viking ancestors in the days of paganism. i do not know if there was any truth in the tradition that it was the favourite drink of the dwellers in valhalla, gods and heroes, when they kept their high yule festival. but this i know, there never was, in the old house, a yule breakfast without it. it had come down to us from time immemorial, and was indissolubly connected with yule morning. that is all i am able to say about it, except that i am able to give the constituents of this luscious beverage, which is not to be confounded with egg-flip. the yelks of a dozen fresh eggs are whisked for about half an hour with about a pound of sifted loaf sugar; nearly half a pint of old rum is added, and then a pint of rich, sweet cream. a bumper of this, tossed off to many happy returns of yule day, together with a large square of shortbread, always rounded up our yule breakfast." [footnote : _chambers' journal_, dec. , .] football was the only game played at, and at this they continued till p.m., when they sat down to a dinner which entirely eclipsed the breakfast. after tea, there was dancing to the music of a fiddler until eleven, when a substantial supper was partaken of, then several glasses of potent punch, before retiring to rest. for a whole week this feasting and football playing was kept up, and wonderful must have been the constitutions of the shetlanders who could stand it. in catholic ireland, as opposed to presbyterian scotland, we might expect a better observance of christ-tide; and the best account i can find of christmas customs in ireland is to be met with in _notes and queries_ ( rd series, viii. ). "many of what are called 'the good old customs' are not now observed in the rural districts of ireland; and i have heard ignorant old men attribute the falling off to the introduction of railways, the improvement of agricultural operations, and cattle shows! amongst some of the customs that i remember in the south-east of ireland were the following: "a week or two before christmas landed proprietors would have slaughtered fine fat bullocks, the greater portion of which would be distributed to the poor; and farmers holding from ten acres of land upwards, were sure to kill a good fat pig, fed up for the purpose, for the household; but the poorer neighbours were also certain of receiving some portions as presents. when the hay was made up in the farm yards, which was generally about the time that apples became ripe, quantities of the fruit would be put in the hayricks, and left there till christmas. the apples thus received a fine flavour, no doubt from the aroma of the new-mown hay. in localities of rivers frequented by salmon, which came up with the floods of august and september, the inhabitants used to select the largest fish, pickle them in vinegar, whole ginger, and other spices, and retain them till christmas, when they formed a most delicious dish at the breakfast table. large trout were preserved in like manner for the same purpose. eggs were collected in large quantities, and were preserved in corn chaff, after having been first rubbed over with butter. i have eaten eggs, so preserved, after three or four months and they tasted as fresh as if only a day old. "in districts where the farmers were well-to-do, and in hamlets and villages, young men used to go about fantastically dressed, and with fifes and drums serenade and salute the inhabitants, for which they were generally rewarded with eggs, butter, and bacon. these they would afterwards dispose of for money, and then have a 'batter,' which, as dr. todd, of trinity college, dublin, truly says, is a 'drinking bout.' these bands of itinerant minstrels were called 'mummers.' they are not now to be met with. it was usual for people to send presents to each other, which consisted chiefly of spirits (_potheen_, home-made whisky), beer, fine flour, geese, turkeys, and hares. a beverage called 'mead,' which was extracted from honeycomb, was also a favourite liquor, and when mixed with a little alcoholic spirit, was an agreeable drink, but deceitful and seductive, as well as intoxicating. this used to pass in large quantities amongst neighbours. 'christmas cakes' and puddings were extensively made and sent as presents. the latter were particularly fine, and made with fine flour, eggs, butter, fruit, and spices. i have never met anything in cities and large towns to equal them in their way, both as regards wholesomeness and flavour. "of course, the houses were all decorated with holly and ivy, winter natural flowers, and other emblems of joy. people hardly went to bed at all on christmas eve, and the first who announced the crowing of the cock, if a male, was rewarded with a cup of tea, in which was mixed a glass of spirits; if a female, the tea only; but, as a substitute for the whisky, she was saluted with half a dozen kisses, which was the greatest compliment that could be paid her. the christmas block for the fire, or yule log, was indispensable. the last place in which i saw it was the hall of lord ward's mansion, near downpatrick, in ireland; and although it was early in the forenoon, his lordship (then a young man) insisted on my tasting a glass of whisky, not to break the custom of the country, or the hall. he did the same himself." chapter xvii ordinance against out-door revelry--marriage of a lord of misrule--mummers and mumming--country mummers--early play--two modern plays. these christmas revelries were sometimes carried to excess, and needed curbing with the strong hand of the law, an early instance of which we find in letter book i. of the corporation of the city of london, fol. , henry v., a.d. . "the mair and aldermen chargen on þe kynges byhalf, and þis cite, þat no manere persone, of what astate, degre, or condicoun þat euere he be, duryng þis holy tyme of christemes be so hardy in eny wyse to walk by nyght in eny manere mommyng, pleyes, enterludes, or eny oþer disgisynges with eny feynyd berdis,[ ] peyntid visers, diffourmyd or colourid visages in eny wyse, up peyne of enprisonement of her bodyes and makyng fyne after þe discrecioun of þe mair and aldremen; ontake[ ] þat hit be leful to eche persone for to be honestly mery as he can, within his owne hous dwellyng. and more ouere þei charge on þe kynges byhalf, and þe cite, þat eche honest persone, dwellyng in eny hye strete or lane of þis citee, hang out of her house eche night, duryng þis solempne feste, a lanterne with a candell þer in, to brenne[ ] as long as hit may endure, up[ ] peyne to pay ivd, to þe chaumbre at eche tyme þat hit faillith." [footnote : false beards.] [footnote : except that it shall be.] [footnote : burn.] [footnote : upon pain of paying.] and to cite another case, much later in date, the commissioners for causes ecclesiastical kept strict watch on some of the christmas revellers of . they had before them one saunders, from lincolnshire, for carrying revelry too far. saunders and others, at blatherwick, had appointed a lord of misrule over their festivities. this was perfectly lawful, and could not be gainsaid. but they had resolved that he should have a lady, or christmas wife; and probably there would have been no harm in that, if they had not carried the matter too far. they, however, brought in as bride one elizabeth pitto, daughter of the hog-herd of the town. saunders received her, disguised as a parson, wearing a shirt or smock for a surplice. he then married the lord of misrule to the hog-herd's daughter, reading the whole of the marriage service from the book of common prayer. all the after ceremonies and customs then in use were observed, and the affair was carried to its utmost extent. the parties had time to repent at leisure in prison. the old english disport of mumming at christmas is of great antiquity--so great that its origin is lost. fosbroke, in his _encyclopædia of antiquities_ (ed. , ii. ), says, under the heading "mummers: these were amusements derived from the saturnalia, and so called from the danish _mumme_, or dutch _momme_--disguise in a mask. christmas was the grand scene of mumming, and some mummers were disguised as bears, others like unicorns, bringing presents. those who could not procure masks rubbed their faces with soot, or painted them. in the christmas mummings the chief aim was to surprise by the oddity of the masks, and singularity and splendour of the dresses. everything was out of nature and propriety. they were often attended with an exhibition of gorgeous machinery.[ ] it was an old custom also to have mummeries on twelfth night. they were the common holiday amusements of young people of both sexes; but by edward iii. the mummers, or masqueraders, were ordered to be whipped out of london." [footnote : fosbroke here seems to have mixed up masquers and mummers.] the original mumming was in dumb show, and was sometimes of considerable proportions, _vide_ one in , where there were "eighty tunics of buckram, forty-two visors, and a great variety of other whimsical dresses were provided for the disguising at court at the feast of christmas." a most magnificent mummery or disguising was exhibited by the citizens of london in , for the amusement of richard, prince of wales, in which no fewer than persons were disguised; which, with that in , i have already described. philip stubbes, the puritan, says: "in , one captain john gladman, a man ever true and faithful to god and the king, and constantly sportive, made public disport with his neighbours at christmas. he traversed the town on a horse as gaily caparisoned as himself, preceded by the twelve months, each dressed in character. after him crept the pale attenuated figure of lent, clothed in herring skins, and mounted on a sorry horse, whose harness was covered with oyster shells. a train, fantastically garbed, followed. some were clothed as bears, apes, and wolves; others were tricked out in armour; a number appeared as harridans, with blackened faces and tattered clothes, and all kept up a promiscuous fight. last of all marched several carts, whereon a number of fellows, dressed as old fools, sat upon nests, and pretended to hatch young fools." we still have our mummers in very many a country village; but the sport is now confined to the village boys, who, either masked or with painted faces, ribbons, and other finery (i have known them tricked out with paper streamers, obtained from a neighbouring paper mill), act a play(!), and, of course, ask for money at its conclusion. by some, it is considered that this play originated in the commemoration of the doughty deeds of the crusaders. the earliest of these plays that i can find is in a fifteenth century ms.--_temp._ edward iv.--and the characters are the nine worthies: _ector de troye._ thow achylles in bataly me slow, of my worthynes men speken i now. _alisander._ and in romaunce often am i leyt, as conqueror gret thow i seyt. _julius cæsar._ thow my cenatoures me slow in c[=o]llory, fele londes byfore by conquest wan i. _josue._ in holy chyrche e mowen here and rede, of my worthynes and of my dede. _dauit._ after y^{t} slayn was golyas, by me the sawter than made was. _judas macabeus._ of my wurthynesse yf e wyll wete, secke the byble, for ther it is wrete. _arthour._ the round tabyll i sette w^{t} knyghtes strong, zyt shall i come a en, thow it be long. _charles._ with me dwellyd rouland olyvere, in all my conquest fer and nere. _godefry de boleyn._ and i was kyng of jherusalem, the crowne of thorn i wan fro hem. of the comparatively modern play acted by the mummers space only enables me to give two examples, although i could give many more. the first is the simplest, and only requires three principal actors, and this is still played in oxfordshire.[ ] [footnote : _notes and queries_, th series xii. .] _a knight enters with his sword drawn, and says:_ room, room, make room, brave gallants all, for me and my brave company! where's the man that dares bid me stand? i'll cut him down with my bold hand! _st. george._ here's the man that dares bid you stand; he defies your courageous hand! _the knight._ then mind your eye, to guard the blow, and shield your face, and heart also. (_st. george gets wounded in the combat, and falls._) doctor, doctor, come here and see, st. george is wounded in the knee; doctor, doctor, play well your part. st. george is wounded in the heart! (_the doctor enters._) i am a doctor, and a doctor good, and with my hand i'll stop the blood. _the knight._ what can you cure, doctor? _the doctor._ i can cure coughs, colds, fevers, gout, both pains within and aches without; i will bleed him in the thumb. _st. george._ o! will you so? then i'll get up and run! _some more mummers or minstrels come in, and they sing the following stanza, accompanied by the hurdy gourdy_:-- my father, he killed a fine fat hog, and that you may plainly see; my mother gave me the guts of the hog, to make a hurdy gourdy. _then they repeat the song in full chorus, and dance._ the other example is far more elaborate, and was read by j.s. udal, esquire, in a paper on christmas mummers in dorsetshire before the folk-lore society, th april . he said: "i will now proceed to give the entire rendering of the first version as it was obtained for me, some few years ago, by an old dorsetshire lady, who is now dead, and in this the _dramatis personæ_ are as follow:-- "old father christmas. room. anthony, the egyptian king. st. george. st. patrick. captain bluster. gracious king. general valentine. colonel spring. old betty. doctor. servant-man." _enter_ old father christmas. here comes i, father christmas, welcome, or welcome not, i hope old father christmas will never be forgot. although it is old father christmas, he has but a short time to stay i am come to show you pleasure, and pass the time away. i have been far, i have been near, and now, i am come to drink a pot of your christmas beer; and, if it is your best, i hope, in heaven your soul will rest. if it is a pot of your small, we cannot show you no christmas at all. walk in, room, again i say, and, pray, good people, clear the way. walk in, room. _enter_ room. god bless you all, ladies and gentlemen, it's christmas time, and i am come again. my name is room, one sincere and true, a merry christmas i wish to you. king of egypt is for to display, a noble champion without delay. st. patrick too, a charming irish youth, he can fight, or dance, or love a girl with truth. a noble doctor, i do declare, and his surprising tricks, bring up the rear. and let the egyptian king straightway appear. _enter_ egyptian king. here comes i, anthony, the egyptian king. with whose mighty acts, all round the globe doth ring; no other champion but me excels, except st. george, my only son-in-law. indeed, that wondrous knight, whom i so dearly love, whose mortal deeds the world dost well approve, the hero whom no dragon could affright, a whole troop of soldiers couldn't stand in sight. walk in, st. george, his warlike ardour to display, and show great britain's enemies dismay. walk in, st. george. _enter_ st. george. here am i, st. george, an englishman so stout, with those mighty warriors i long to have a bout; no one could ever picture me the many i have slain, i long to fight, it's my delight, the battle o'er again. come then, you boasting champions, and here, that in war i doth take pleasure, i will fight you all, both great and small, and slay you at my leisure. come, haste, away, make no delay, for i'll give you something you won't like, and, like a true-born englishman, i will fight you on my stumps. and, now, the world i do defy, to injure me before i die. so, now, prepare for war, for that is my delight. _enter_ st. patrick, _who shakes hands with_ st. george. my worthy friend, how dost thou fare, st. george? answer, my worthy knight. st. george. i am glad to find thee here; in many a fight that i have been in, travelled far and near, to find my worthy friend st. patrick, that man i love so dear. four bold warriors have promised me to meet me here this night to fight. the challenge did i accept, but they could not me affright. st. patrick. i will always stand by that man that did me first enlarge, i thank thee now, in gratitude, my worthy friend, st. geärge; thou did'st first deliver me out of this wretched den, and now i have my liberty, i thank thee once again. _enter_ captain bluster. i'll give st. george a thrashing, i'll make him sick and sore, and, if i further am disposed, i'll thrash a dozen more. st. patrick. large words, my worthy friend, st. george is here, and likewise st. patrick too; and he doth scorn such men as you. i am the man for thee, therefore, prepare yourself to fight with me; or, else, i'll slay thee instantly. captain bluster. come on, my boy! i'll die before i yield to thee, or twenty more. (_they fight, and_ st. patrick _kills_ captain bluster.) st. patrick. now one of st. george's foes is killed by me, who fought the battle o'er, and, now, for the sake of good st. george, i'll freely fight a hundred more. st. george. no, no, my worthy friend, st. george is here, i'll fight the other three; and, after that, with christmas beer, so merry we will be. _enter_ gracious king. no beer, or brandy, sir, i want, my courage for to rise, i only want to meet st. george, or take him by surprise; but i am afraid he never will fight me, i wish i could that villain see. st. george. tremble, thou tyrant, for all thy sin that's past, tremble to think that this night will be thy last. thy conquering arms shall quickly by thee lay alone and send thee, passing, to eternal doom. st. george will make thy armour ring; st. george will soon despatch the gracious king. gracious king. i'll die before i yield to thee, or twenty more. (_they fight_, st. george _kills the_ gracious king.) st. george. he was no match for me, he quickly fell. _enter_ general valentine. but i am thy match, and that my sword shall tell, prepare thyself to die, and bid thy friends farewell. i long to fight such a brave man as thee, for it's a pleasure to fight so manfully (_a line missing._) rations so severe he never so long to receive. so cruel! for thy foes are always killed; oh! what a sight of blood st. george has spilled! i'll fight st. george the hero here, before i sleep this night. come on, my boy, i'll die before i yield to thee, or twenty more. st. george, thou and i'll the battle try, if thou dost conquer i will die. (_they fight_, st. george _kills the_ general.) st. george. where now is colonel spring? he doth so long delay, that hero of renown, i long to show him play. _enter_ colonel spring. holloa! behold me, here am i! i'll have thee now prepare, and by this arm thou'lt surely die, i'll have thee this night, beware. so, see, what bloody works thou'st made, thou art a butcher, sir, by trade. i'll kill, as thou did'st kill my brother, for one good turn deserves another. (_they fight_, st. george _kills the_ colonel.) st. patrick. stay thy hand, st. george, and slay no more; for i feel for the wives and families of those men thou hast slain. st. george. so am i sorry. i'll freely give any sum of money to a doctor to restore them again. i have heard talk of a mill to grind old men young, but i never heard of a doctor to bring dead men to life again. st. patrick. there's an irish doctor, a townsman of mine, who lived next door to st. patrick, he can perform wonders. shall i call him, st. george? st. george. with all my heart. please to walk in, mr. martin dennis. it's an ill wind that blows no good work for the doctor. if you will set these men on _enter_ doctor. their pins, i'll give thee a hundred pound, and here is the money. doctor. so i will, my worthy knight, and then i shall not want for whiskey for one twelvemonth to come. i am sure, the first man i saw beheaded, i put his head on the wrong way. i put his mouth where his poll ought to be, and he's exhibited in a wondering nature. st. george. very good answer, doctor. tell me the rest of your miracles, and raise those warriors. doctor. i can cure love-sick maidens, jealous husbands, squalling wives, brandy-drinking dames, with one touch of my triple liquid, or one sly dose of my jerusalem balsam, and that will make an old crippled dame dance the hornpipe, or an old woman of seventy years of age conceive and bear a twin. and now to convince you all of my exertions,--rise, captain bluster, gracious king, general valentine, and colonel spring! rise, and go to your father! (_on the application of the medicine they all rise and retire._) _enter_ old bet. here comes dame dorothy, a handsome young woman, good morning to ye. i am rather fat, but not very tall, i'll do my best endeavour to please you all. my husband, he is to work, and soon he will return, and something for our supper bring, and, perhaps, some wood to burn. oh! here he comes! _enter_ jan, _or_ old father christmas. well! jan. old father christmas. oh! dorothy. old bet. what have you been doing all this long day, jan? old father christmas. i have been a-hunting, bet. old bet. the devil! a-hunting is it? is that the way to support a wife? well, what have you catched to-day, jan? old father christmas. a fine jack hare, and i intend to have him a-fried for supper; and here is some wood to dress him. old bet. fried! no, jan, i'll roast it nice. old father christmas. i say, i'll have it fried. old bet. was there ever such a foolish dish! old father christmas. no matter for that. i'll have it a-done; and if you don't do as i do bid, i'll hit you in the head. old bet. you may do as you like for all i do care, i'll never fry a dry jack hare. old father christmas. oh! you won't, wooll'ee? (_he strikes her and she falls._) oh! what have i done! i have murdered my wife! the joy of my heart, and the pride of my life. and out to the gaol i quickly shall be sent. in a passion i did it, and no malice meant. is there a doctor that can restore? fifty pounds i'll give him, or twice fifty more. (_some one speaks._) oh! yes, uncle jan, there is a doctor just below, and for god's sake let him just come in. walk in, doctor. _enter_ doctor. old father christmas. are you a doctor? doctor. yes, i am a doctor--a doctor of good fame. i have travelled through europe, asia, africa, and america, and by long practice and experience i have learned the best of cures for most disorders instant (_incident?_) to the human body; find nothing difficult in restoring a limb, or mortification, or an arm being cut off by a sword, or a head being struck off by a cannon-ball, if application have not been delayed till it is too late. old father christmas. you are the very man, i plainly see, that can restore my poor old wife to me. pray tell me thy lowest fee. doctor. a hundred guineas, i'll have to restore thy wife, 'tis no wonder that you could not bring the dead to life. old father christmas. that's a large sum of money for a dead wife! doctor. small sum of money to save a man from the gallows. pray what big stick is that you have in your hand? old father christmas. that is my hunting pole. doctor. put aside your hunting pole, and get some assistance to help up your wife. (old bet _is raised up to life again._) fal, dal, lal! fal, dal, lal! my wife's alive! _enter_ servant man _who sings._ well met, my brother dear! all on the highway sall and i were walking along, so i pray, come tell to me what calling you might be. i'll have you for some serving man. old father christmas. i'll give thee many thanks, and i'll quit thee as soon as i can; vain did i know where thee could do so or no, for to the pleasure of a servant man. servant man. some servants of pleasure will pass time out of measure, with our hares and hounds they will make the hills and valleys sound that's a pleasure for some servant man. old father christmas. my pleasure is more than for to see my oxen grow fat, and see them prove well in their kind, a good rick of hay, and a good stack of corn to fill up my barn, that's a pleasure of a good honest husband man. servant man. next to church they will go with their livery fine and gay, with their cocked-up hat, and gold lace all round, and their shirt so white as milk, and stitched so fine as silk, that's a habit for a servant man. old father christmas. don't tell i about thee silks and garments that's not fit to travel the bushes. let i have on my old leather coat, and in my purse a groat, and there, that's a habit for a good old husband man. servant man. some servant men doth eat the very best of meat, a cock, goose, capon, and swan; after lords and ladies dine, we'll drink strong beer, ale, and wine; that's a diet for some servant man. old father christmas. don't tell i of the cock, goose, or capon, nor swan; let i have a good rusty piece of bacon, pickled pork, in the house, and a hard crust of bread and cheese once now and then; that's a diet for a good old honest husband man. so we needs must confess that your calling is the best, and we will give you the uppermost hand; so no more we won't delay, but we will pray both night and day, god bless the honest husband man. amen. [_exeunt_ omnes.] chapter xviii a christmas jest--ben jonson's masque of christmas--milton's masque of comus--queen elizabeth and the masters of defence. this is rather sorry stuff; but then in purely rural places, untouched by that great civiliser, the railroad, a little wit goes a great way, as we may see by the following story told in pasquil's "jests," . "there was some time an old knight, who, being disposed to make himself merry on a christmas time, sent for many of his tenants and poore neighbours, with their wives to dinner; when, having made meat to be set on the table, he would suffer no man to drinke till he that was master over his wife should sing a carrol; great niceness there was who should be the musician. yet with much adoe, looking one upon another, after a dry hemme or two, a dreaming companion drew out as much as he durst towards an ill-fashioned ditty. when, having made an end, to the great comfort of the beholders, at last it came to the women's table, when, likewise, commandment was given that there should no drinkes be touched till she that was master over her husband had sung a christmas carroll, whereupon they fell all to such a singing that there never was heard such a catterwauling piece of musicke. whereat the knight laughed so heartily that it did him halfe as much good as a corner of his christmas pie." of masques i have already written, in describing royal christ-tides, but there is one, a notice of which must not be omitted, ben jonson's masque of christmas, as it was presented at court . the _dramatis personæ_ are:-- christmas, attired in round hose, long stockings, a closed doublet, a high-crowned hat, with a brooch, a long thin beard, a truncheon, little ruffs, white shoes, his scarfs and garters tied cross, and his drum beaten before him. his sons and daughters (ten in number) led in, in a string, by cupid, who is attired in a flat cap, and a prentice's coat, with wings at his shoulders. misrule, in a velvet cap, with a sprig, a short cloak, great yellow ruff, his torch-bearer bearing a rope, a cheese, and a basket. carol, a long tawney coat, with a red cap, and a flute at his girdle, his torch-bearer carrying a song-book open. minced pie, like a fine cook's wife, drest neat; her man carrying a pie, dish, and spoons. gambol, like a tumbler, with a hoop and bells; his torch-bearer arm'd with a colt staff and a binding staff. post and pair, with a pair-royal of aces in his hat; his garment all done over with pairs and purs; his squire carrying a box, cards, and counters. new year's gift, in a blue coat, serving man like, with an orange, and a sprig of rosemary gilt, on his head, his hat full of brooches, with a collar of gingerbread; his torch-bearer carrying a march pane with a bottle of wine on either arm. mumming, in a masquing pied suit, with a vizard; his torch-bearer carrying the box, and ringing it. wassel, like a neat sempster and songster; her page bearing a brown bowl, drest with ribands, and rosemary, before her. offering, in a short gown, with a porter's staff in his hand, a wyth borne before him, and a bason, by his torch-bearer. baby cake (_twelfth cake_), dressed like a boy, in a fine long coat, biggin bib, muckender, and a little dagger; his usher bearing a great cake, with a bean and a pease. after some dialogue, christmas introduces his family in the following song:-- now, their intent, is above to present, with all the appurtenances, a right christmas, as, of old, it was, to be gathered out of the dances. which they do bring, and afore the king, the queen, and prince, as it were now drawn here by love; who over and above, doth draw himself in the geer too. [_here the drum and fife sounds, and they march about once. in the second coming up_, christmas _proceeds to his_ song.] hum drum, sauce for a coney; no more of your martial music; even for the sake o' the next new stake, for there i do mean to use it. and now to ye, who in place are to see with roll and farthingale hoopèd; i pray you know, though he want his bow, by the wings, that this is cupid. he might go back, for to cry _what you lack?_ but that were not so witty: his cap and coat are enough to note, that he is the love o' the city. and he leads on, though he now be gone, for that was only his rule: but now comes in, tom of bosom's-inn, and he presenteth mis-rule. which you may know, by the very show, albeit you never ask it: for there you may see, what his ensigns be, the rope, the cheese, and the basket. this carol plays, and has been in his days a chirping boy, and a kill-pot. kit cobler it is, i'm a father of his, and he dwells in the lane called fill-pot. but, who is this? o, my daughter cis, minced pie; with her do not dally on pain o' your life; she's an honest cook's wife, and comes out of scalding-alley. next in the trace, comes gambol in place; and to make my tale the shorter, my son hercules, tane out of distaff lane, but an active man and a porter. now, post and pair, old christmas's heir, doth make and a gingling sally; and wot you who, 'tis one of my two sons, card makers in pur-alley. next, in a trice, with his box and his dice, mac' pipin my son, but younger, brings mumming in; and the knave will win for he is a costermonger. but new year's gift, of himself makes shift to tell you what his name is; with orange on head, and his gingerbread, clem waspe of honey lane 'tis. this, i you tell, is our jolly wassel, and for twelfth night more meet too; she works by the ell, and her name is nell, and she dwells in threadneedle street too. then offering, he, with his dish and his tree, that in every great house keepeth, is by my son, young little-worth, done, and in penny-rich street he sleepeth. last baby cake, that an end doth make of christmas merry, merry vein-a, is child rowlan, and a straight young man, though he comes out of crooked lane-a. there should have been, and a dozen, i ween, but i could find but one more child of christmas, and a log it was, when i had them all gone o'er. i prayed him, in a tune so trim, that he would make one to prance it: and i myself would have been the twelfth, o! but log was too heavy to dance it. nor must we forget a masque by milton, "comus, a masque, at ludlow castle, ," in which appeared the lord brockley, mr. thomas egerton, his brother, and the lady alice egerton. but all christmas sports were not so gentle as was the masque, as the following account of the virgin queen's amusements shows us. amongst the original letters preserved by the descendants of sir john kytson, of hengrave hall, is one addressed by christopher playter to mr. kytson, in , which contains the following: "at chris-time here were certayne ma^{rs} of defence, that did challenge all comers at all weapons, as long sworde, staff, sword and buckler, rapier with the dagger: and here was many broken heads, and one of the ma^{rs} of defence dyed upon the hurt which he received on his head. the challenge was before the quenes ma^{tie}, who seemes to have pleasure therein; for when some of them would have sollen a broken pate, her majesty bade him not to be ashamed to put off his cap, and the blood was spied to run about his face. there was also at the corte new plays, w^{h} lasted almost all night. the name of the play was huff, suff, and ruff, with other masks both of ladies and gents." chapter xix the lord of misrule--the "emperor" and "king" at oxford--dignity of the office--its abolition in the city of london--the functions of a lord of misrule--christmas at the temple--a grand christmas there. we have seen in the account of historic christ-tides how a lord of misrule was nominated to amuse edward vi., and with what honour he was received at the mansion house. the popular idea of the lord of misrule is that he was a buffoon; but this is far from being the case. warton says that, in an original draught of the statutes of trinity college, cambridge, founded in , one of the chapters is entitled "de præfecto ludorum, qui imperator dicitur." and it was ordered, as defining the office of "emperor," that one of the masters of arts should be placed over the juniors every christmas for the regulation of their games and diversions at that season. his sovereignty was to last during the twelve days of christmas, and also on candlemas day, and his fee was forty shillings. warton also found a disbursement in an audit book of trinity coll. oxon. for . "pro prandio _principis natalicii_." anthony à wood, in his _athenæ_, speaking of the "christmas prince of st. john's college, whom the juniors have annually, for the most part, elected from the first foundation of that college," says: "the custom was not only observed in that college, but in several other houses, particularly in merton college, where, from the first foundation, the fellows annually elected, about st. edmund's day, in november, a christmas lord, or lord of misrule, styled in the registers _rex fabarum_, and _rex regni fabarum_: which custom continued till the reformation of religion, and then that producing puritanism, and puritanism presbytery, the possession of it looked upon such laudable and ingenious customs as popish, diabolical, and anti-christian." the office was one of dignity, as we may see by henry machyn's diary, - : "the iiij day of januarii was made a grett skaffold in chepe, hard by the crosse, agaynst the kynges lord of myssrule cummyng from grenwyche and (he) landyd at toure warff, and with hym yonge knyghts and gentyllmen a gret nombur on hosse bake sum in gownes and cotes and chaynes abowt ther nekes, and on the toure hyll ther they went in order, furst a standard of yelow and grene sylke with saint george, and then gounes and skuybes (squibs) and trompets and bagespypes, and drousselars and flutes, and then a gret company all in yelow and gren, and docturs declaryng my lord grett, and then the mores danse, dansyng with a tabret," etc. but so popular were these lords of misrule that every nobleman and person of position had one. henry percy, fifth earl of northumberland, had one certainly in , whose fee was s. nor did sir thomas more, when attached to the household of cardinal morton, object to "stepp in among the players." that they were usual adjuncts to great houses is evidenced by an extract from churchyard's _lamentacion of freyndshypp_, a ballad printed about :-- men are so used these dayes wyth wordes, they take them but for jestes and boordes, that _christmas lordes_ were wont to speke. stow tells us that, by an act of common council, , philip and mary, for retrenching expenses, among other things it was ordered that the lord mayor or sheriffs shall not keep any lord of misrule in any of their houses. but it still seems to have been customary for sheriffs, at least, to have them, for richard evelyn, esq. (father of the diarist), who kept his shrievalty of surrey and sussex in , in a most splendid manner, did not forego his lord of misrule, as the following shows:-- "articles made and appoynted by the right wo^{ll} richard evelyn esq., high sheriffe and deputie leavetenaunt to the kinge's ma^{tie} for the counties of surrey and sussex. "imprimis. i give free leave to owen flood my trumpeter, gent. to be lo^{d} of misrule of all good orders during the twelve dayes. and also i give free leave to the said owen flood to co[=m]and all and every person whatsoev^{r}, as well servants as others, to be at his co[=m]and whensoev^{r} he shall sound his trumpett or musick, and to do him good service as though i were present my selfe at their perills. "his lo^{pp} commaunds every person or persons whatsoev^{r} to appeare at the hall at seaven of the clocke in the morninge, to be at prayers, and afterwards to be at his lo^{pps} commaunds, upon paine of punishment, accordinge as his lo^{pp} shall thinke fitt. "if any person shall sware any oath w^{th}in the precinct of the ... shall suffer punishment at his lo^{pps} pleasure. "if any man shall come into the hall, and sett at dinner or supper more than once, he shall endure punishment at his lo^{pps} pleasure. "if any man shal bee drunke, or drinke more than is fitt, or offer to sleepe during the time abovesaid, or do not drinke up his bowle of beere, but flings away his snuffe (that is to say) the second draught, he shall drinke two, and afterwards be excluded. "if any man shall quarrell, or give any ill language to any person duringe the abovesaid twelve dayes w^{th}in the gates or precinct thereof, he is in danger of his lo^{pps} displeasure. "if any person shall come into the kitchen whiles meate is a dressinge, to molest the cookes, he shall suffer the rigor of his lo^{pps} law. "if any man shall kisse any maid, widdow or wife, except to bid welcome or farewell, w^{th}out his lo^{pps} consent, he shall have punishment as his lo^{pp} shall thinke convenient. "the last article: i give full power and authoritie to his lo^{pp} to breake up all lockes, bolts, barres, doores, and latches, and to flinge up all doores out of hendges to come at those whoe presume to disobey his lo^{pps} commaunds. "god save the king." these somewhat whimsical articles of agreement were evidently intended to prevent mirth relapsing into licence, which, unfortunately, was too often the case, especially with the lord of misrule or prince of love, who directed the revels of the law students. gerard legh, in _the accidens of armory_, , says that christmas was inaugurated with "the shot of double cannon, in so great a number, and so terrible, that it darkened the whole air," and meeting "an honest citizen, clothed in a long garment," he asked him its meaning, "who friendly answered, 'it is,' quoth he, 'a warning to the constable marshall of the inner temple to prepare the dinner.'" sir william dugdale, in _origines juridiciales_ (ed. , p. , etc.), gives us the following account of a grand christmas in the inner temple, "extracted out of the accompts of the house":-- "first, it hath been the duty of the steward to provide five fat brawns, vessells, wood, and other necessaries belonging to the kitchin: as also all manner of spices, flesh, fowl, and other cates for the kitchin. "the office of the chief butler to provide a rich cupboard of plate, silver and parcel gilt; seaven dozen of silver and gilt spoons; twelve fair salt-cellars, likewise silver and gilt; twenty candlesticks of the like. "twelve fine large table cloths of damask and diaper. twenty dozen of napkins suitable, at the least. three dozen of fair large towells; whereof the gentlemen servers and butlers of the house to have, every of them, one at meal times, during their attendance. likewise to provide carving knives: twenty dozen of white cups and green potts; a carving table; torches; bread; beer, and ale. and the chief of the butlers was to give attendance on the highest table in the hall, with wine, ale, and beer; and all the other butlers to attend at the other tables in like sort. "the cupboard of plate is to remain in the hall on _christmass_ day, _st. stephan's_ day, and _new year's_ day. upon the banquetting night it was removed into the buttry; which, in all respects, was very laudably performed. "the office of the constable marshall to provide for his imployment, a fair gilt compleat harneys, with a nest of fethers in the helm; a fair poleaxe to bear in his hand, to be chevalrously ordered on _christmass_ day, and other days, as, afterwards, is shewed: touching the ordering and setling of all which ceremonies, during the said _grand christmass_, a solempn consultation was held at their parliament in this house, in form following:-- "first, at the parliament kept in their parliament chamber of this house, on the even at night of _st. thomas_ the apostle, officers are to attend, according as they had been, long before that time, at a former parliament named and elected to undergo several offices for this time of solempnity, honour, and pleasance: of which officers, these are the most eminent; namely the _steward_, _marshall_, _constable marshall_, _butler_, and _master of the game_. these officers are made known, and elected in _trinity term_ next before; and to have knowledg thereof by letters, if in the country, to the end that they may prepare themselves against _all hallow-tide_; that, if such nominated officers happen to fail, others may then be chosen in their rooms. the other officers are appointed at other times neerer _christmass_ day. "if the steward, or any of the said officers named in _trinity term_, refuse, or fail, he, or they, were fined, every one, at the discretion of the bench; and the officers aforenamed agreed upon. and at such a parliament, if it be fully resolved to proceed with such a _grand christmass_, then the two youngest butlers must light two torches, and go before the bench to the upper end of the hall; who, being set down, the ancientest bencher delivereth a speech, briefly to the whole society of gentlemen then present, touching their consent, as afore; which ended, the eldest butler is to publish all the officers names, appointed in parliament; and then in token of joy and good liking, the bench and company pass beneath the harth, and sing a carol, and so to boyer (drink). [sidenote: _christmas eve._] "the _marshall_ at dinner is to place at the highest table's end, and next to the library, all on one side thereof, the most ancient persons in the company present: the dean of the chapell next to him; then an antient, or bencher, beneath him. at the other end of the table, the server, cup-bearer and carver. at the upper end of the bench table, the king's serjeant and chief butler: and, when the steward hath served in, and set on the table, the first mess, then he, also, is to sit down. "also, at the upper end of the other table, on the other side of the hall, are to be placed the three masters of the revells; and at the lower end of the bench table, are to sit, the king's attorney, the ranger of the forest, and the master of the game. and, at the lower end of the table, on the other side of the hall, the fourth master of the revells, the common sergeant, and constable marshall. and, at the upper end of the utter barister's table, the marshall sitteth, when he hath served in the first mess: the clark of the kitchin, also, and the clark of the sowce-tub, when they have done their offices in the kitchin, sit down. and, at the upper end of the clark's table, the lieutenant of the tower, and the attendant to the buttry are placed. "at these two tables last rehersed, the persons there, may sit on both sides of the table: but, of the other three tables, all are to sit upon one side. and then, the butlers, or christmas servants, are first to cover the tables with fair linnen table-cloths; and furnish them with salt-cellars, napkins and trenchers, and a silver spoon. and then, the butlers of the house must place at the salt-cellar, at every the said first three highest tables, a stock of trenchers, and bread: and, at the other tables, bread only, without trenchers. "at the first course the minstrells must sound their instruments, and go before; and the steward and marshall are, next, to follow together; and, after them, the gentlemen server; and, then, cometh the meat. those three officers are to make, altogether, three solempn curtesies, at three several times, between the skreen and the upper table; beginning with the first, at the end of the bencher's table; the second at the midst; and the third at the other end; and then, standing by, the server performeth his office. "when the first table is set and served, the steward's table is next to be served. after him, the master's table of the revells; then that of the master of the game, the high constable-marshall: then the lieutenant of the tower; then the utter barister's table; and lastly, the clerk's table. all which time the musick must stand right above the harthside, with the noise of their musick, their faces direct towards the highest table: and, that done, to return into the buttry, with their musick sounding. "at the second course, every table is to be served, as at the first course, in every respect, which performed, the servitors and musicians are to resort to the place assigned them to dine at; which is the valect's, or yeoman's table, beneath the skreen. dinner ended, the musicians prepare to sing a song, at the highest table; which ceremony accomplished, then the officers are to address themselves, every one in his office, to avoid the tables in fair and decent manner, they beginning at the clerk's table; thence proceed to the next; and thence to all the others, till the highest table be solempnly avoided. "then, after a little repose, the persons at the highest table arise, and prepare to revells: in which time, the butlers and other servitors with them, are to dine in the library. "at both the dores in the hall, are porters to view the comers in and out at meal times: to each of them is allowed a cast of bread and a candle nightly, after supper. "at night, before supper, are revells and dancing; and so also after supper, during the twelve days of christmass. the antientest master of the revells is, after dinner and supper, to sing a caroll, or song; and command other gentlemen then there present, to sing with him and the company, and so it is very decently performed. "a repast at dinner is viii^{d.} [sidenote: _christmass day._] "service in the church ended, the gentlemen presently repair into the hall, to breakfast, with brawn, mustard, and malmsey. "at dinner, the butler appointed for the _grand christmass_, is to see the tables covered and furnished: and the ordinary butlers of the house are decently to set bread, napkins, and trenchers in good form, at every table; with spoones and knives. "at the first course is served in, a fair and large bore's head, upon a silver platter, with minstralsye. two gentlemen in gownes are to attend at supper, and to bear two fair torches of wax, next before the musicians and trumpeters, and stand above the fire with the musick, till the first course be served in, through the hall. which performed, they, with the musick, are to return to the buttry. the like course is to be observed in all things, during the time of christmass. the like at supper. "at service time this evening, the two youngest butlers are to bear torches in the genealogia. a repast at dinner is xii^{d.} which strangers of worth are admitted to take in the hall; and such are to be placed at the discretion of the marshall. [sidenote: _st. stephan's day._] "the butler appointed for christmass is to see the tables covered, and furnished with salt-cellars, napkins, bread, trenchers and spoones. young gentlemen of the house are to attend and serve till the latter dinner, and then dine themselves. "this day, the server, carver and cup-bearer are to serve, as afore. after the first course served in, the constable marshall cometh into the hall, arrayed with a fair, rich, compleat harneys, white and bright, and gilt; with a nest of fethers of all colours upon his crest or helm, and a gilt poleaxe in his hand: to whom is associate the lieutenant of the tower, armed with a fair white armour, a nest of fethers in his helm, and a like poleaxe in his hand; and with them sixteen trumpetters; four drums and fifes going in rank before them: and, with them, attendeth four men in white harneys, from the middle upwards, and halberds in their hands, bearing on their shoulders the tower; which persons, with the drums, trumpets and musick, go three times about the fire. then the constable marshall, after two or three curtesies made, kneeleth down before the lord chancellor; behind him the lieutenant; and they kneeling, the constable marshall pronounceth an oration of a quarter of an hour's length, thereby declaring the purpose of his coming; and that his purpose is, to be admitted into his lordship's service. "the lord chancellor saith, he will take farther advice thereon. "then the constable marshall, standing up, in submissive manner, delivereth his naked sword to the steward, who giveth it to the lord chancellour: and, thereupon, the lord chancellour willeth the marshall to place the constable marshall in his seat; and so he doth, with the lieutenant, also, in his seat or place. during this ceremony, the tower is placed beneath the fire. "then cometh in the master of the game apparalled in green velvet: and the ranger of the forest also, in a green suit of satten; bearing in his hand a green bow, and divers arrows; with, either of them, a hunting horn about their necks; blowing together three blasts of venery, they pace round about the fire three times. then the master of the game maketh three curtesies, as aforesaid; and kneeleth down before the lord chancellour, declaring the cause of his coming, and desireth to be admitted into his service, &c. all this time, the ranger of the forest standeth directly behind him. then the master of the game standeth up. "this ceremony also performed, a huntsman cometh into the hall, with a fox and a purse-net; with a cat, both bound at the end of a staff; and, with them, nine or ten couple of hounds, with the blowing of hunting hornes. and the fox and cat are, by the hounds, set upon, and killed beneath the fire. this sport finished, the marshall placeth them in their several appointed places. "then proceedeth the second course; which done, and served out, the common serjeant delivereth a plausible speech to the lord chancellour, and his company, at the highest table, how necessary a thing it is to have officers at this present; the constable marshall, and master of the game, for the better honour and reputation of the common-wealth; and wisheth them to be received, &c. "then the king's serjeant at law declareth and inferreth the necessity; which heard, the lord chancellour desireth respite of farther advice. then the antientist of the masters of the revells singeth a song, with assistance of others there present. "at supper, the hall is to be served with all solempnity, as upon christmass day, both the first and second course to the highest table. supper ended, the constable marshall presenteth himself with drums afore him, mounted upon a scaffold, borne by four men; and goeth three times round about the harthe, crying out aloud, _a lord, a lord_, &c. then he descendeth and goeth to dance, &c., and, after, he calleth his court, every one by name, one by one, in this manner:-- "_sir francis flatterer_, of fowleshurst, in the county of buckingham. _sir randle backbite_, of rascall hall, in the county of rake hell. _sir morgan mumchance_, of much monkery, in the county of mad mopery. _sir bartholomew baldbreech_, of buttocksbury, in the county of breke neck. "this done, the lord of misrule addresseth himself to the banquet: which ended with some minstralsye, mirth and dancing, every man departeth to rest. "at every mess is a pot of wine allowed. every repast is vi^{d.} [sidenote: _st. john's day._] "about seaven of the clock in the morning, the lord of misrule is abroad, and, if he lack any officer or attendant, he repaireth to their chambers, and compelleth them to attend in person upon him after service in the church, to breakfast, with brawn, mustard and malmsey. after breakfast ended, his lordship's power is in suspence, untill his personal presence at night; and then his power is most potent. "at dinner and supper is observed the diet and service performed on _st. stephan's_ day. after the second course served in, the king's serjeant, oratour like, declareth the disorder of the constable marshall, and of the common serjeant; which complaint is answered by the common serjeant, who defendeth himself and the constable marshall with words of great efficacy: hereto the king's serjeant replyeth. they rejoyn &c., and whoso is found faulty, committed to the tower &c. "if any officer be absent at dinner or supper times; if it be complained of, he that sitteth in his place is adjudged to have like punishment, as the officer should have had, being present: and then, withall, he is enjoyned to supply the office of the true absent officer, in all points. if any offendor escape from the lieutenant, into the buttery, and bring into the hall a manchet upon the point of a knife, he is pardoned. for the buttry, in that case, is a sanctuary. after cheese served to the table, not any is commanded to sing. [sidenote: _childermass day._] "in the morning, as afore, on monday, the hall is served; saving that the server, carver and cup bearer do not attend any service. also like ceremony at supper. [sidenote: _wednsday._] "in the morning no breakfast at all; but like service as afore is mentioned, both at dinner and supper. [sidenote: _thursday._] "at breakfast, brawn, mustard and malmsey. at dinner, roast beef, venison-pasties, with like solempnities as afore. and at supper, mutton and hens roasted. [sidenote: _new year's day._] "in the morning, breakfast, as formerly. at dinner like solempnity as on christmass eve. "_the banquetting night._ "it is proper to the butler's office to give warning to every house of court, of this banquet; to the end that they, and the innes of chancery be invited thereto, to see a play and mask. the hall is to be furnished with scaffolds to sit on, for ladies to behold the sports, on each side. which ended, the ladies are to be brought into the library, unto the banquet there; and a table is to be covered and furnished with all banquetting dishes, for the lord chancellour, in the hall; where he is to call to him the ancients of other houses, as many as may be on the one side of the table. the banquet is to be served in, by gentlemen of the house. "the marshall and steward are to come before the lord chancellour's mess. the butlers for christmas must serve wine; and the butlers of the house, beer and ale &c. when the banquet is ended, then cometh into the hall, the constable marshall, fairly mounted on his mule; and deviseth some sport, for passing away the rest of the night. [sidenote: _twelf day._] "at breakfast, brawn, mustard and malmsey, after morning prayer ended: and, at dinner, the hall is to be served as upon _st. john's_ day." chapter xx a riotous lord of misrule at the temple--stubbes on lords of misrule--the bishops ditto--mumming at norwich, --dancing at the inns of court--dancing at christmas--the cushion dance. the high spirits of the "temple sparks" occasionally led them to licence, as the author of _the reign of king charles_ ( ) tells us was the case in . "that christmas the temple sparks had enstalled a lieutenant, which we country folk call a lord of misrule. the lieutenant had, on twelfth eve, late in the night, sent out to collect his rents in ramme alley and fleet street, limiting five shillings to every house. at every door they winded their temple horn, and if it procured not entrance at the second blast or summons, the word of command was then 'give fire, gunner.' this gunner was a robustious vulcan, and his engine a mighty smith's hammer. the next morning the lord mayor of london was made acquainted therewith, and promised to be with them next night; commanding all that ward, and also the watch, to attend him with their halberds. at the hour prefixt, the lord mayor and his train marched up in martial equipage to ramme alley. "out came the lieutenant with his suit of gallants, all armed _in cuerpo_. one of the halberdiers bade the lieutenant come to my lord mayor. 'no,' said the lieutenant, 'let the lord mayor come to me.' but this controversy was soon ended, they advancing each to other, till they met half way; then one of the halberdiers reproved the lieutenant for standing covered before the lord mayor. the lieutenant gave so crosse an answere, as it begat as crosse a blow; which, the gentlemen, not brooking, began to lay about them; but in fine the lieutenant was knockt down and sore wounded, and the halberdiers had the better of the swords. the lord mayor being master of the field, took the lieutenant, and haled rather than led him to the counter, and with indignation thrust him in at the prison gate, where he lay till the attorney general mediated for his enlargement, which the lord mayor granted upon condition he should submit and acknowledge his fault. the lieutenant readily embraced the motion; and, the next day, performing the condition, so ended this christmas game." we can hardly expect an unbiassed opinion on the subject of lords of misrule, or any other merriment, from phillip stubbes, the puritan, who, in _the anatomie of abuses_ (ed. ), speaking of these "christmas lords," says: "the name, indeed, is odious both to god and good men, and such as the very heathen people would have blushed at once to have named amongst them. and, if the name importeth some evil, then, what may the thing it selfe be, judge you? but, because you desire to know the manner of them, i will showe you as i have seen them practised myself. "first, all the wilde-heds of the parish, conventing togither, chuse them a graund-captain (of all mischeefe) whom they innoble with the title of my lord of mis-rule, and him they crowne with great solemnitie, and adopt for their king. this king anointed chuseth forth twentie, fortie, three score, or a hundred lustie guttes, like to him self, to waight uppon his lordlie majestie, and to guarde his noble person. then, everie one of these his men, he investeth with his liveries of green, yellow, or some other light wanton colour; and, as though they were not gaudie enough, i should say, they bedecke them selves with scarfs, ribons and laces, hanged all over with golde rings, precious stones, and other jewels; this doon, they tye about either leg xx or xl bels, with rich handkerchiefs in their hands, and sometimes laid a crosse over their shoulders and necks, borrowed for the most parte of their pretie mopsies and looving besses, for bussing them in the dark. "thus, al things set in order, then have they their hobby horses, dragons and other antiques, togither with their baudie pipers and thundering drummers, to strike up the devil's daunce withall. then marche these heathen company towards the church and church yard, their pipers piping, their drummers thundring, their stumps dauncing, their bels jyngling, their handkerchefs swinging about their heds like madmen, their hobbie horses and other monsters skirmishing amongst the route; and in this sorte they go to the church (i say), and into the church (though the minister be at praier, or preaching), dancing and swinging their handkercheifs over their heds in the church, like devils incarnate, with such a confuse noise, that no man can hear his own voice. then, the foolish people, they looke, they stare, they laugh, they fleer, and mount upon fourmes and pewes, to see these goodly pageants solemnized in this sort. then, after this, about the church they goe againe and again, and so foorth into the churchyard, where they have commonly their sommer haules, their bowers, arbors, and banqueting houses set up, wherin they feast, banquet and daunce al that day, and (peradventure) all the night too. and thus these terrestriall furies spend the sabaoth day. "they have, also, certain papers, wherein is painted some babblerie or other, of imagery woork, and these they call my lord of misrule's badges: these they give to every one that wil give money for them, to maintaine them in their heathenrie, devilrie, whordome, drunkennes, pride, and what not. and who will not be buxom to them, and give them money for these their devilish cognizances, they are mocked and flouted at not a little. and, so assotted are some, that they not only give them monie, to maintain their abhomination withall, but also weare their badges and cognizances in their hats and caps openly. but let them take heede; for these are the badges, seales, brands, and cognizances of the devil, whereby he knoweth his servants and clyents from the children of god; and so long as they weare them, _sub vexillo diaboli militant contra dominum et legem suam_: they fight under the banner and standerd of the devil against christ jesus, and all his lawes. another sorte of fantasticall fooles bring to these hel-hounds (the lord of mis-rule and his complices) some bread, some good ale, some new cheese, some olde, some custards and fine cakes; some one thing, some another; but, if they knew that as often as they bring anything to the maintenance of these execrable pastimes, they offer sacrifice to the devil and sathanas, they would repent and withdraw their hands, which god graunt they may!" although stubbes wrote with exceeding bitterness and party bias, he had some warrant for his diatribe. in the _injunctions_ of parkhurst, bishop of norwich[ ] ( ), he says: "item, that no person or persons calling themselves lords of misrule in the christmas tyme, or other vnreuerent persons at any other tyme, presume to come into the church vnreuerently playing their lewd partes, with scoffing, iesting, or rebaldry talke, and, if any such haue alredy offended herein, to present them and their names to the ordinary." [footnote : _second report of ritual comm._, from which the examples following are also taken.] grindal, archbishop of york, in his _injunctions_ ( ) also says: "item, that the minister and churchwardens shall not suffer any lordes of misrule, or sommer lordes or ladies, or any disguised persons or others, in christmas or ... at rish bearings, or any other times to come vnreuerently into any church, or chapell, or churchyarde, and there daunce ... namely, in the time of diuine service, or of anie sermon." and so say overton, bishop of lichfield ( ); bancroft, bishop of london ( ); and howson, bishop of oxford ( ). merely to show how general throughout england were these rulers of christmas festivities, i will give one more example, taken from the _records of norwich_, re what happened there at christ-tide . "john hadman,[ ] a wealthy citizen, made disport with his neighbours and friends, and was crowned king of christmas. he rode in state through the city, dressed forth in silks and tinsel, and preceded by twelve persons habited as the twelve months of the year. after king christmas followed lent, clothed in white garments, trimmed with herring skins, on horseback, the horse being decorated with trappings of oyster shells, being indicative that sadness and a holy time should follow christmas revelling. in this way they rode through the city, accompanied by numbers in various grotesque dresses, making disport and merriment; some clothed in armour, others, dressed as devils, chased the people, and sorely affrighted the women and children; others wearing skin dresses, and counterfeiting bears, wolves, lions, and other animals, and endeavouring to imitate the animals they represented, in roaring and raving, alarming the cowardly, and appalling the stoutest hearts." [footnote : probably the john gladman spoken of by stubbes (see p. ).] naturally, among the pastimes of this festive season dancing was not the least. and it was reckoned as a diversion for staid people. we know how-- the grave lord keeper led the braules, the mace and seals before him. it was a practice for the bar to dance before the judges at lincoln's inn at christmas, and in james i.'s time the under barristers were, by decimation, put out of commons, because they did not dance, as was their wont, according to the ancient custom of the society.[ ] this practice is also mentioned in a book published about , called _round about our coal fire_, etc. "the dancing and singing of the benchers in the great inns of court at christmas is, in some sort, founded upon interest, for they hold, as i am informed, some priviledge by dancing about the fire in the middle of their hall, and singing the song of _round about our coal fire_." in the prologue to the same book we have the following song:-- o you merry, merry souls, christmas is a coming, we shall have flowing bowls, dancing, piping, drumming. delicate minced pies, to feast every virgin, capon and goose likewise, brawn, and a dish of sturgeon. then, for your christmas box, sweet plumb cakes and money, delicate holland smocks, kisses sweet as honey. hey for the christmas ball, where we shall be jolly, coupling short and tall, kate, dick, ralph, and molly. then to the hop we'll go, where we'll jig and caper, _cuckolds all a-row_, will shall pay the scraper. hodge shall dance with prue, keeping time with kisses, we'll have a jovial crew of sweet smirking misses. [footnote : dugdale's _orig. jurid._ cap. .] we still keep up the custom of dancing at christ-tide, and no christmas party is complete without it; but of all the old tunes, such as _sellinger's rounds_, the one mentioned in the above song, with many others, but one remains to us, and that is peculiar to this season--_sir roger de coverly_. _notes and queries_, th december , gives an account of a very curious dance. "one of the most popular indoor games at christmas time was, in derbyshire, that of the 'cushion dance,' which was performed at most of the village gatherings and farm-house parties during the christmas holidays upwards of forty years ago. the following is an account of the dance as it was known amongst the farmer's sons and daughters and the domestics, all of whom were on a pretty fair equality, very different from what prevails in farm-houses of to-day. the dance was performed with boisterous fun, quite unlike the game as played in higher circles, where the conditions and rules of procedure were of a more refined order. "the company were seated round the room, a fiddler occupying a raised seat in a corner. when all were ready, two of the young men left the room, returning presently, one carrying a large square cushion, the other an ordinary drinking horn, china bowl, or silver tankard, according to the possessions of the family. the one carrying the cushion locked the door, putting the key in his pocket. both gentlemen then went to the fiddler's corner, and, after the cushion-bearer had put a coin in the vessel carried by the other, the fiddler struck up a lively tune, to which the young men began to dance round the room, singing or reciting to the music:-- "'frinkum, frankum is a fine song, an' we will dance it all along; all along and round about till we find the pretty maid out.' "after making the circuit of the room, they halted on reaching the fiddler's corner, and the cushion-bearer, still to the music of the fiddle, sang or recited:-- "'our song it will no further go!' "_the fiddler_-- "'pray, kind sir, why say you so?' "_the cushion-bearer_-- "'because jane sandars won't come to.' "_the fiddler_-- "'she must come to, she shall come to, an' i'll make her, whether she will or no!' "the cushion-bearer and vessel-holder then proceeded with the dance, going as before round the room, singing 'frinkum, frankum,' etc., till the cushion-bearer came to the lady of his choice, before whom he paused, placed the cushion on the floor at her feet, and knelt upon it. the vessel-bearer then offered the cup to the lady, who put money in it, and knelt on the cushion in front of the kneeling gentleman. the pair kissed, arose, and the gentleman, first giving the cushion to the lady with a bow, placed himself behind her, taking hold of some portion of her dress. the cup-bearer fell in also, and they danced on to the fiddler's corner, and the ceremony was again gone through as at first, with the substitution of the name of john for jane, thus:-- "_the lady_-- "'our song it will no further go!' "_the fiddler_-- "'pray, kind miss, why say you so?' "_the lady_-- "'because john sandars won't come to.' "_the fiddler_-- "'he must come to, he shall come to, an' i'll make him, whether he will or no.' "the dancing then proceeded, and the lady, on reaching her choice (a gentleman, of necessity), placed the cushion at his feet. he put money in the horn and knelt. they kissed and rose, he taking the cushion and his place in front of the lady, heading the next dance round; the lady taking him by the coat tails, the first gentleman behind the lady, with the horn-bearer in the rear. in this way the dance went on till all present, alternately a lady and gentleman, had taken part in the ceremony. the dance concluded with a romp in file round the room, to the quickening music of the fiddler, who, at the close, received the whole of the money collected by the horn-bearer." chapter xxi honey fairs--card-playing at christmas--throwing the hood--early religious plays--moralities--story of a gray's inn play--the first pantomime--spectacular drama--george barnwell--story respecting this play. _time's telescope_ ( , p. ) notes that in cumberland, and in all the great towns in the north of england, about a week before christmas, what are called _honey fairs_ were held, in which dancing forms the leading amusement. card-playing, too, was justifiable at christ-tide. an ordinance for governing the household of the duke of clarence in the reign of edward iv. forbade all games at dice, cards, or other hazard for money "_except during the twelve days at christmas_." and, again, in the reign of henry vii. an act was passed against unlawful games, which expressly forbids artificers, labourers, servants, or apprentices to play at any such, _except at christmas_, and at some of the colleges cards are introduced in the combination rooms during the twelve days of christmas, but never appear there during the remainder of the year. cards are not much patronised by the present generation, yet dignity is occasionally sunk in a romping round game at christ-tide. but it is a question as to who knows such games as my lady coventry, all fours, snip snap snorum, old maid, commerce, put, pope joan, brag, blind hookey, loo, etc., etc., without reference to a manual on the subject. timbs[ ] gives a very curious custom or game which, he says, is still observed on old christmas day in the village of haxey, in lincolnshire. it is traditionally said to have originated from a lady of the de mowbrays, who, a few years after the conquest, was riding through craize lound, an adjoining hamlet, when the wind blew her riding hood from her head, and so amused her, that she left twelve acres of land to twelve men who ran after the hood, and gave them the strange name of boggoners; to them, however, the land, with the exception of about a quarter of an acre, has for centuries been lost. the throwing of the hood now consists of the villagers of west woodside and haxey trying who can get to the nearest public-house in each place, the hood, which is made of straw covered with leather, about two feet long and nine inches round. the twelve boggoners are pitched against the multitude, which has been known to exceed two thousand persons from all parts of the neighbourhood; and as soon as a boggoner touches the hood or catches it the game is won. [footnote : _garland for the year_, p. .] there was another amusement at christmas, before mumming and the comparatively modern play of st. george--the religious plays, the first of which is mentioned by matthew paris, who says that geoffrey, a learned norman, and master of the school of the abbey of dunstable, composed the play of st. catharine, which was acted by his scholars in . fitzstephen, writing later in the same century, remarks that "london, for its theatrical exhibitions has religious plays, either the representations of miracles wrought by holy confessors or the sufferings of martyrs." then came the interlude, which was generally founded on a single event, and was of moderate length, but not always, for in the reign of henry iv. one was exhibited in smithfield which lasted eight days; but then this began with the creation of the world, and contained the greater part of the old and new testament. being originally devised by the clergy to withdraw the minds of the people from the profane and immoral buffooneries to which they were accustomed, ecclesiastics did not hesitate to join in the performance, and even to permit the representation to take place in churches and chapels. afterwards the ordering and arrangement of them fell into the hands of the gilds, or different trading companies. in process of time the rigid religious simplicity of these performances was broken in upon, and the devil and a circle of infernal associates were introduced to relieve the performance, and to excite laughter by all sorts of strange noises and antics. by and by, abstract personifications, such as truth, justice, mercy, etc., found their way into these plays, and they then became moral plays, or "moralities." these were in their highest vogue in the reigns of henries vii. and viii., and holinshed tells a story of one played at christ-tide - . "this christmasse was a goodlie disguising plaied at graies in, which was compiled for the most part by maister john roo, sergeant at the law manie yeares past, and long before the cardinall had any authoritie. the effect of the plaie was that lord gouernance was ruled by dissipation and negligence, by whose misgouernance and evill order ladie publike weale was put from gouernance; which caused rumor populi, inwarde grudge and disdaine of wanton souereignetie to rise, with a great multitude, to expell negligence and dissipation, and to restore publike weale againe to hir estate, which was so doone. "this plaie was so set foorth with riche and costlie apparell, with strange devises of maskes and morrishes, that it was highlie praised of all men, sauing of the cardinall, which imagined that the play had been devised of him, and in a great furie sent for the said maister roo, and took from him his coife, and sent him to the fleet; and after, he sent for the yoong gentlemen that plaied in the plaie, and them highlie rebuked and threatned, and sent one of them, called thomas moile, of kent, to the fleet; but by means of friends, maister roo and he were deliuered at last. this plaie sore displeased the cardinall, and yet it was neuer meant to him, as you haue heard. wherfore manie wise men grudged to see him take it so hartilie, and euer the cardinall said that the king was highlie displeased with it, and spake nothing of himselfe." j.p. collier, in his _annals of the stage_ (ed. , pp. , ), gives an account of two interludes played before royalty at richmond, christ-tide - , which he found in a paper folded up in a roll in the chapter house. "the interlud was callyd the tryumpe of love and bewte, and yt was wryten and presented by mayster cornyshe and oothers of the chappell of our soverayne lorde the kynge, and the chyldern of the sayd chapell. in the same, venus and bewte dyd tryumpe over al ther enemys, and tamyd a salvadge man and a lyon, that was made very rare and naturall, so as the kynge was gretly plesyd therwyth, and gracyously gaf mayster cornysshe a ryche rewarde owt of his owne hand, to be dyvyded with the rest of his felows. venus did synge a songe with beawte, which was lykyd of al that harde yt, every staffe endyng after this sorte-- "bowe you downe, and doo your dutye to venus and the goddes bewty: we tryumpe hye over all, kyngs attend when we doo call. "inglyshe, and the oothers of the kynges pleyers, after pleyed an interluyt, whiche was wryten by mayster midwell, but yt was so long, yt was not lykyd: yt was of the fyndyng of troth, who was caryed away by ygnoraunce and ypocresy. the foolys part was the best, but the kyng departyd befor the end to hys chambre." of christ-tide masques i have already written, and after they fell into desuetude there was nothing theatrical absolutely peculiar to christmas until rich, in , introduced the comic pantomime at his theatre in lincoln's inn fields, where, on th december of that year, he produced _harlequin executed_. davies says: "to retrieve the credit of his theatre, rich created a species of dramatic composition, unknown to this, and i believe to any other country, which he called a pantomime; it consisted of two parts--one serious, and the other comic. by the help of gay scenes, fine habits, grand dances, appropriate music, and other decorations, he exhibited a story from ovid's _metamorphoses_, or some other fabulous writer. between the pauses, or acts, of this serious, representation he interwove a comic fable; consisting chiefly of the courtship of harlequin and columbine, with a variety of surprizing adventures and tricks, which were produced by the magic wand of harlequin; such as the sudden transformation of palaces and temples to huts and cottages, of men and women into wheelbarrows and joint stools, of trees turned into houses, colonades to beds of tulips, and mechanics' shops into serpents and ostriches." from until , the date of his death, he brought out a succession of pantomimes, all of which were eminently successful, and ran at least forty or fifty nights each. that the pantomime, very slightly altered from rich's first conception, still is attractive, speaks for itself. no other style of entertainment for christ-tide was ever so popular. garrick tried spectacular drama, and failed. walpole, writing to lady ossory, th december , says: "garrick has brought out what he calls a _christmas tale_, adorned with the most beautiful scenes, next to those in the opera at paradise, designed by loutherbourg. they have much ado to save the piece from being sent to the devil. it is believed to be garrick's own, and a new proof that it is possible to be the best actor and the worst author in the world, as shakspeare was just the contrary." some of us are old enough to remember with delight planche's extravaganzas, _the king of the peacocks_, etc., which were so beautifully put on the stage of the lyceum theatre by madame vestris, but i do not think they were a financial success, and they have never been repeated by other managers. up to a very recent date a stock piece at the minor theatres on boxing night was the tragedy of _the london merchant; or, the history of george barnwell_, acted at drury lane in , which was so successful that the queen sent for the ms. to read it, and hone (_every-day book_, ii. ) remarks as a notable circumstance that "the representation of this tragedy was omitted in the christmas holidays of at both the theatres for the first time." it was considered a highly moral play, and was acted for the particular benefit of apprentices, to deter them from the crime of theft, and from keeping company with bad women. david ross, the actor, wrote in the following letter to a friend:-- "in the year , during the christmas holidays, i played george barnwell, and the late mrs. pritchard played millwood. doctor barrowby, physician to st. bartholomew's hospital, told me he was sent for by a young gentleman in great st. helen's, apprentice to a very capital merchant. he found him very ill with a slow fever, a heavy hammer pulse, that no medicine could touch. the nurse told him he sighed at times so very heavily that she was sure something lay heavy on his mind. the doctor sent every one out of the room, and told his patient he was sure there was something that oppressed his mind, and lay so heavy on his spirits, that it would be in vain to order him medicine, unless he would open his mind freely. after much solicitation on the part of the doctor, the youth confessed there was something lay heavy at his heart; but that he would sooner die than divulge it, as it must be his ruin if it was known. the doctor assured him, if he would make him his confidant, he would, by every means in his power, serve him, and that his secret, if he desired it, should remain so to all the world, but to those who might be necessary to relieve him. "after much conversation he told the doctor he was the second son of a gentleman of good fortune in hertfordshire; that he had made an improper acquaintance with a kept mistress of a captain of an indiaman then abroad; that he was within a year of being out of his time, and had been intrusted with cash, drafts, and notes, which he had made free with, to the amount of two hundred pounds. that, going two or three nights before to drury lane to see ross and mrs. pritchard in their characters of george barnwell and milwood, he was so forcibly struck, he had not enjoyed a moment's peace since, and wished to die, to avoid the shame he saw hanging over him. the doctor asked where his father was? he replied he expected him there every minute, as he was sent for by his master upon his being taken so very ill. the doctor desired the young man to make himself perfectly easy, as he would undertake his father should make all right; and, to get his patient in a promising way, assured him, if his father made the least hesitation, he should have the money of him. "the father soon arrived. the doctor took him into another room, and after explaining the whole cause of his son's illness, begged him to save the honour of his family and the life of his son. the father, with tears in his eyes, gave him a thousand thanks, said he would step to his banker and bring the money. while the father was gone dr. barrowby went to his patient, and told him everything would be settled in a few minutes to his ease and satisfaction; that his father was gone to his banker for the money, and would soon return with peace and forgiveness, and never mention or even think of it more. what is very extraordinary, the doctor told me that, in a few minutes after he communicated this news to his patient, upon feeling of his pulse, without the help of any medicine, he was quite another creature. the father returned with notes to the amount of £ , which he put into his son's hands. they wept, kissed, embraced. the son soon recovered, and lived to be a very eminent merchant. "dr. barrowby never told me the name; but the story he mentioned often in the green-room of drury lane theatre; and after telling it one night when i was standing by, he said to me, 'you have done some good in your profession--more, perhaps, than many a clergyman who preached last sunday,' for the patient told the doctor the play raised such horror and contrition in his soul that he would, if it would please god to raise a friend to extricate him out of that distress, dedicate, the rest of his life to religion and virtue. though i never knew his name or saw him, to my knowledge, i had, for nine or ten years, at my benefit a note sealed up, with ten guineas, and these words--'_a tribute of gratitude from one who was highly obliged, and saved from ruin, by seeing mr. ross's performance of barnwell._'" chapter xxii profusion of food at christ-tide--old english fare--hospitality--proclamations for people to spend christ-tide at their country places--roast beef--boar's head--boar's head carol--custom at queen's coll. oxon.--brawn--christmas pie--goose pie--plum pudding--plum porridge--anecdotes of plum pudding--large one--mince pies--hackin--folk-lore--gifts at christ-tide--yule doughs--cop-a-loaf--snap-dragon. if any exception can be taken to christ-tide in england, it is to the enormous amount of flesh, fowl, etc., consumed. to a sensitive mind, the butchers' shops, gorged with the flesh of fat beeves, or the poulterers, with their hecatombs of turkeys, are repulsive, to say the least. it is the remains of a coarse barbarism, which shows but little signs of dying out. profusion of food at this season is traditional, and has been handed down from generation to generation. a christmas dinner must, if possible, be every one's portion, down to the pauper in the workhouse, and even the prisoner in the gaol. tusser, who, though he could write-- at christmas we banket, the riche with the poore, who then (but the miser) but openeth his doore. at christmas, of christ, many carols we sing; and give many gifts, for the joy of that king, could also sing of "christmas husbandly fare"-- good husband and huswife, now chiefly be glad, things handsome to have, as they ought to be had. they both do provide against christmas do come, to welcome their neighbor, good chere to have some. good bread and good drinke, a good fier in the hall, brawne, pudding, and souse, and good mustard withall. biefe, mutton, and porke, shred pies of the best, pig, veale, goose, and capon, and turkey well drest. cheese, apples, and nuttes, ioly carols to here, as then, in the countrey, is compted good chere. what cost to good husband is any of this? good houshold provision, only, it is. of other, the like i do leave out a meny, that costeth the husband man never a peny. but his intention in this provision is not for personal gratification-- at christmas, be mery, and thankfull withall, and feast thy poore neighbours, the great with y^{e} small. yea, al the yere long, to the poore let us give, god's blessing to follow us while we do live. this hospitality in the country was made the subject of legislation, for james i. much disliked the flocking of the gentry, etc., to london, as he said in his address to the council of the star chamber: "and therefore, as every fish lives in his own place, some in the fresh, some in the salt, some in the mud, so let every one live in his own place--some at court, some in the city, some in the country; specially at festival times, as christmas, and easter, and the rest." nay, he issued a proclamation ordering the landed gentry to repair to their country seats at christmas, which is thus noticed in a letter from mr. chamberlain to sir dudley carleton ( st december ): "diverse lords and personages of quality have made means to be dispensed withall for going into the country this christmas, according to the proclamation; but it will not be granted, so that they pack away on all sides for fear of the worst." and charles i. inherited his father's opinions on this matter, for he also proclaimed that "every nobleman or gentleman, bishop, rector, or curate, unless he be in the service of the court or council, shall in forty days depart from the cities of london and westminster, and resort to their several counties where they usually reside, and there keep their habitations and hospitality." as to christmas fare, place must be given, i think, to "the roast beef of old england," which used to be a standing dish on every table--from the "sir loin," said to have been knighted by charles ii. when in a merry mood, to the "baron of beef," which is, like a "saddle" of mutton, two loins joined together by the backbone. this enormous dish is not within the range of ordinary mortals; but the queen always keeps up the custom of having one wherever she may be, at windsor, or osborne. beef may be said to be the staple flesh of england, and is procurable by every one except the very poorest, whilst it is not given to all to obtain the lordly boar's head, which used to be an indispensable adjunct to the christmas feast. one thing is, that wild boars only exist in england either in zoological gardens or in a few parks--notably windsor--in a semi-domesticated state. the bringing in the boar's head was conducted with great ceremony, as holinshed tells us that in , when henry i. had his son crowned as joint-ruler with himself, "upon the daie of coronation king henrie, the father, served his sonne at the table, as server, bringing up the bore's head with trumpets before it, according to the maner." in "christmasse carolles, newely enprinted at lond[=o], in the fletestrete at the sygne of the sonne, by wynkyn de worde. the yere of our lorde m.d.xxi.," is the following, which, from its being "newely enprinted," must have been older than the date given:-- a carol bringyng in the bores heed. caput apri differo[ ] reddens laudes domino. the bores heed in hande bring i, with garlands gay and rosemary. i praye you all synge merely qui estis in conuiuio. the bores heed i understande is the chefe servyce in this lande loke where euer it be fande[ ] servite cum cantico. be gladde lordes bothe more and lasse,[ ] for this hath ordeyned our stewarde to chere you all this christmasse the bores heed with mustarde. finis. [footnote : defero.] [footnote : found.] [footnote : great and small.] the custom of ceremoniously introducing the boar's head at christ-tide was, at one time, of general use among the nobility, and still obtains at queen's college, oxford; and its _raison d'être_ is said to be that at some remote time a student of this college was walking in the neighbouring forest of shotover (_chateau vert_), and whilst reading aristotle was attacked by a wild boar. unarmed, he did not know how to defend himself; but as the beast rushed on him with open mouth he rammed the aristotle down its throat, exclaiming, "_græcum est_," which ended the boar's existence. some little ceremony is still used when it is brought in; the head is decorated, as saith the carol, and it is borne into the hall on the shoulders of two college servants, followed by members of the college and the choir. the carol, which is a modification of the above, is generally sung by a fellow, assisted by the choir, and the boar's head is solemnly deposited before the provost, who, after helping those sitting at the high table, sends it round to all the other tables. dr. king, in his _art of cookery_, gives the following recipe for dishing up a boar's head:-- then if you would send up the brawner's head, sweet rosemary and bays around it spread; his foaming tusks let some large pippin grace, or midst these thundering spears an orange place. sauce, like himself, offensive to its foes, the roguish mustard, dangerous to the nose. sack, and the well-spic'd hippocras the wine, wassail the bowl with ancient ribbons fine, porridge with plums, and turkies with the chine. of the boar's head was made _brawn_, which, when well made, is good indeed; and this was another christmas dish. sandys says: "the french do not seem to have been so well acquainted with brawn; for on the capture of calais by them they found a large quantity, which they guessed to be some dainty, and tried every means of preparing it; in vain did they roast it, bake it, boil it; it was impracticable and impenetrable to their culinary arts. its merits, however, being at length discovered, 'ha!' said the monks, 'what delightful fish!' and immediately added it to their stock of fast day viands. the jews, again, could not believe it was procured from that impure beast, the hog, and included in their list of clean animals." then there was a dish, "the christmas pie," which must have been very peculiar, if we can trust henri misson, who was in england in the latter end of the seventeenth century. says he: "every family against _christmass_ makes a famous pye, which they call _christmass_ pye: it is a great nostrum the composition of this pasty; it is a most learned mixture of neats-tongues, chicken, eggs, sugar, raisins, lemon and orange peel, various kinds of spicery, etc." can this be the pie of which herrick sang?-- come, guard this night the christmas pie, that the thiefe, though ne'r so slie, with his flesh hooks don't come nie to catch it; from him, who all alone sits there, having his eyes still in his eare, and a deale of nightly feare, to watch it. fletcher, in his poem _christmas day_,[ ] thus describes the pie:-- christmas? give me my beads; the word implies a plot, by its ingredients, beef and pyes. the cloyster'd steaks, with salt and pepper, lye like nunnes with patches in a monastrie. prophaneness in a conclave? nay, much more idolatrie in crust! babylon's whore rak'd from the grave, and bak'd by hanches, then serv'd up in _coffins_ to unholy men: defil'd with superstition like the gentiles of old, that worship'd onions, roots, and lentils. [footnote : _ex otio negotium_, etc., ed. , p. .] the _grub street journal_ of th december has an essay on christmas pye; but it is only a political satire, and not worth quoting here. there was once a famous christmas pie which obtained the following notice in the _newcastle chronicle_, th january : "monday last, was brought from howick to berwick, to be shipp'd for london, for sir hen. grey, bart., a pie, the contents whereof are as follows: viz. bushels of flour, lbs. of butter, geese, turkies, rabbits, wild ducks, woodcocks, snipes, and partridges, neats' tongues, curlews, blackbirds, and pigeons; it is supposed a very great curiosity, was made by mrs. dorothy patterson, house keeper at howick. it was near nine feet in circumference at bottom, weighs about twelve stones, will take two men to present it to table; it is neatly fitted with a case, and four small wheels to facilitate its use to every guest that inclines to partake of its contents at table." brand says that in the north of england a goose is always the chief ingredient in the composition of a christmas pie. ramsay, in his _elegy on lucky wood_, tells us that, among other baits by which the good ale-wife drew customers to her house, she never failed to tempt them at christmas with a _goose pie_-- than ay at _yule_ whene'er we came, _a bra' goose pye_; and was na that a good belly baum? nane dare deny. a writer in the _gentleman's magazine_ (may , p. ), speaking of christmas in the north riding of yorkshire, says: "on the feast of st. stephen large goose pies are made, all which they distribute among their needy neighbours, except one, which is carefully laid up, and not tasted till the purification of the virgin, called candlemas day." plum pudding is a comparatively modern dish--not two centuries old; but, nowadays, wherever an englishman travels--even when engaged in war--be he in any of our colonies, a plum pudding must be had. if an explorer, some loving hand has presented him with one. were not our soldiers, in the latter part of the crimean war, bountifully supplied with plum puddings? was there ever a christmas on board a man-of-war without one? it is now a national institution, and yet none can tell of its genesis. it has been evolved from that dish of which misson gives us a description: "they also make a sort of soup with plums, which is not at all inferior to the pye, which is in their language call'd plum porridge." we can find no reference to plum pudding in the diaries either of evelyn or pepys, and perhaps as early an instance as any of a _christmas_ plum pudding is in _round about our coal fire_ ( ?): "in christmas holidays the tables were all spread from the first to the last; the sirloins of beef, the minced pies, the plum porridge, the capons, geese, turkeys, and plum puddings, were all brought upon the board." plum porridge is very frequently mentioned, and brand gives an instance (vol. i. p. , note) of it being eaten in this century. "memorandum. i dined at the chaplain's table at st. james's on christmas day , and partook of the first thing served up and eaten on that festival at table, _i.e._ a tureen full of rich luscious plum porridge. i do not know that the custom is anywhere else retained." "plum porridge was made of a very strong broth of shin of beef, to which was added crumb of bread, cloves, nutmeg, cinnamon, mace, currants, raisins, and dates. it was boiled gently, and then further strengthened with a quart of canary and one of red port; and when served up, a little grape verjuice or juice of orange was popped in as a zest."--_daily telegraph_, st january . plum pudding is a peculiarly _english_ dish, and foreigners, as a rule, do not know how to make it properly, and many are the stories told thereanent. in a leading article in the _daily telegraph_, st january , a recipe is given, copied from the _kreuz zeitung_, for making a plum pudding: "the cook is to take dough, beer in the course of fermentation, milk, brandy, whiskey, and gin in equal parts; bread, citronate, large and small raisins in profusion. this must be stirred by the whole family for at least three days, and it is then to be hung up in a linen bag for six weeks '_in order thoroughly to ferment_.'" there is a somewhat amusing story told in vol. i. of _anecdotes and biographical sketches_ by lady hawkins, widow of sir john hawkins, the friend of johnson. dr. schomberg, of reading, in the early part of his life spent a christmas at paris with some english friends. they were desirous to celebrate the season, in the manner of their own country, by having, as one dish on their table, an english plum pudding; but no cook was found equal to the task of making it. a clergyman of the party had, indeed, a receipt-book, but this did not sufficiently explain the process. dr. schomberg, however, supplied all that was wanting by throwing the recipe into the form of a prescription, and sending it to an apothecary to be made up. to prevent any chance of error, he directed that it should be boiled in a cloth, and sent home in the same cloth. at the specified hour it arrived, borne by the apothecary's assistant, and preceded by the apothecary himself, dressed according to the professional formality of the time, with a sword. seeing, on his entry into the apartment, instead of signs of sickness, a table well filled, and surrounded by very merry faces, he perceived that he was made a party to a joke that turned on himself, and indignantly laid his hand on his sword; but an invitation to taste his own cookery appeased him, and all was well. there is a good plum pudding story told of lord macartney when he was on his embassy to china, and wished to give gratification to a distinguished mandarin. he gave instructions to his chinese _chef_, and, no doubt, they were carried out most conscientiously, but it came to table in a soup tureen, for my lord _had forgotten all about the cloth_. i cannot verify the following, nor do i know when it occurred. at paignton fair, near exeter, a plum pudding of vast dimensions was drawn through the town amid great rejoicings. no wonder that a brewer's copper was needed for the boiling, seeing that the pudding contained lbs. of flour, lbs. of beef suet, lbs. of raisins, and eggs. this eight hundred pounder or so required continuous boiling from saturday morning till the following tuesday evening. it was finally placed on a car decorated with ribbons and evergreens, drawn through the streets by eight oxen, cut up, and distributed to the poor. every housewife has her own pet recipe for her christmas pudding, of undoubted antiquity, none being later than that left as a precious legacy by grandmamma. some housewives put a thimble, a ring, a piece of money, and a button, which will influence the future destinies of the recipients. it is good that every person in the family should take some part in its manufacture, even if only to stir it; and it should be brought to table hoarily sprinkled with powdered sugar, with a fine piece of berried holly stuck in it, and surrounded on all sides by blazing spirits. mince pie, as we have seen in ben jonson's masque, is one of the daughters of father christmas, but the mince pie of his day was not the same as ours; they were made of meat, and were called _minched_ pies, or _shrid_ pies. the meat might be either beef or mutton, but it was chopped fine, and mixed with plums and sugar. it is doubtful whether it was much known before the time of elizabeth, although shakespeare knew it well; but with poetic licence he makes it as known at the siege of troy (_troilus and cressida_, act i. sc. ). "_pandarus_--is not birth, beauty, good shape, discourse, manhood, learning, gentleness, virtue, youth, liberality, and such like, the spice and salt that season a man? "_cressida_--ay, a minced man; and then to be baked with no date[ ] in the pie,--for then the man's date's out." [footnote : dates were an ingredient in most kinds of pastry. see _all's well that ends well_, act i. sc. --"your date is better in your pie and your porridge than in your cheek."] gradually the meat was left out, and more sweets introduced, until the product resulted in the modern mince pie, in which, however, some housewives still introduce a little chopped meat. there is no luck for the wight who does not eat a mince pie at christmas. if he eat one, he is sure of one happy month; but if he wants a happy twelve months, he should eat one on each of the twelve days of christmas. there was another form of eating the minced or shrid meat, in the form of a great sausage, called "the hackin," so called from to _hack_, or chop; and this, by custom, must be boiled before daybreak, or else the cook must pay the penalty of being taken by the arms by two young men, and by them run round the market-place till she is ashamed of her laziness. a writer in _notes and queries_ ( ser. x. ) gives a very peculiar superstition prevalent in derbyshire: "a neighbour had killed his christmas pig, and his wife, to show her respect, brought me a goodly plate of what is known as 'pig's fry.' the dish was delivered covered with a snowy cloth, with the strict injunction, 'don't wash the plate, please!' having asked why the plate was to be returned unwashed, the reply was made, 'if _you_ wash the plate upon which the fry was brought to you, the pig won't take the salt.'" a very pretty custom obtained, as we learn by the records of evelyn's father's shrievalty. in those days of hospitality, when the hall of the great house was open to the neighbours during christ-tide, they used to contribute some trifle towards the provisions; a list has been kept of this kindly help on this occasion. two sides of venison, two half brawns, three pigs, ninety capons, five geese, six turkeys, four rabbits, eight partridges, two pullets, five sugar loaves, half pound nutmegs, one basket of apples and eggs, three baskets of apples, two baskets of pears. at one time the bakers used to make and present to their customers two little images of dough, called yule doughs, or doos, and it seems probable that these were meant to represent our lord and his mother. at alnwick, in northumberland, a custom existed of giving sweetmeats to children at christ-tide, called yule babies, in commemoration of our saviour's nativity. there are various other cakes peculiar to this season. at llantwit major, co. glamorgan, they make "finger cakes"--or cakes in the form of a hand, on the back of which is a little bird; but what its symbolism is i know not. in some parts of cornwall it is customary for each household to make a batch of currant cakes on christmas eve. these cakes are made in the ordinary manner, and coloured with a decoction of saffron, as is the custom in those parts. on this occasion the peculiarity of the cakes is, that a small portion of the dough in the centre of the top of each is pulled up, and made into a form which resembles a very small cake on the top of a large one, and this centre-piece is specially called "the christmas." each person in the house has his or her special cake, and every one ought to taste a small piece of every other person's cake. similar cakes are also bestowed on the hangers-on of the establishment, such as laundresses, sempstresses, charwomen, etc. another correspondent (wiltshire) of _notes and queries_ ( ser. xii. ) says: "can any one tell me the origin of a cake called a cop-a-loaf or cop loaf? it was a piece of paste made in the shape of a box or casket, ornamented at the top with the head of a cock or dragon, with currants for eyes. it was always placed, in my young days, at the bedside on christmas morning, and, it is scarcely necessary to say, eaten before breakfast. inside was an apple." brand says: "in yorkshire (cleveland) the children eat, at the present season, a kind of gingerbread, baked in large and thick cakes, or flat loaves, called _pepper cakes_. they are also usual at the birth of a child. one of these cakes is provided, and a cheese; the latter is on a large platter or dish, and the pepper cake upon it. the cutting of the christmas cheese is done by the master of the house on christmas eve, and is a ceremony not to be lightly omitted. all comers to the house are invited to partake of the pepper cake and christmas cheese." any notice of christmas cheer would be incomplete without mention being made of _snap-dragon_. it is an old sport, and is alluded to by shakespeare in _henry iv._, part ii. act ii. sc. , where falstaff says-- and drinks off candles' ends for flap-dragons. and in _loves labours lost_, act v. sc. -- thou art easier swallowed than a flap-dragon. it is a kind of game, in which brandy is poured over a large dish full of raisins, and then set alight. the object is to snatch the raisins out of the flame and devour them without burning oneself. this can be managed by sharply seizing them, and shutting the mouth at once. it is suggested that the name is derived from the german _schnapps_, spirit, and _drache_, dragon. chapter xxiii the first carol--anglo-norman carol--fifteenth-century carol--"the twelve good joys of mary"--other carols--"a virgin most pure"--"noel"--festive carol of fifteenth century--"a christenmesse carroll." bishop jeremy taylor very appropriately said that the first christmas carol was sung by the angels at the nativity of our saviour--"glory to god in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men." no man knows when the custom began of singing carols, or hymns on christmas day in honour of the nativity; but there can be no doubt that it was of very ancient date in the english church, and that it has been an unbroken custom to this day, when the practice is decidedly on the increase, as may be judged from the many collections of ancient carols, and of modern ones as well. it would be impossible for me to give anything like a representative collection of christmas carols, because of space, but i venture to reproduce a few old ones, and first, perhaps the oldest we have, an anglo-norman carol, which is in the british museum, and with it i give douce's very free translation. it will be seen by this that all carols were not of a religious kind, but many were songs appropriate to the festive season:-- seignors ore entendez a nus, de loinz sumes venuz a wous, pur quere noel; car lun nus dit que en cest hostel soleit tenir sa feste anuel ahi cest iur. deu doint a tuz icels joie d'amurs qi a danz noel ferunt honors. seignors io vus di por veir ke danz noel ne uelt aveir si joie non: e replein sa maison de payn, de char, e de peison, por faire honor. deu doint, etc. seignors il est crie en lost qe cil qui despent bien e tost, e largement; e fet les granz honors sovent deu li duble quanque il despent por faire honor. deu doint, etc. seignors escriez les malveis, car vus nel les troverez jameis de bone part; botun, batun, ferun groinard, car tot dis a le quer cunard por faire honor. deu doint, etc. noel beyt bein li vin engleis e li gascoin e li franceys e l'angeuin; noel fait beivre son veisin, si quil se dort, le chief en clin, sovent le ior. deu doint, etc. seignors io vus di par noel, e par li sires de cest hostel, car benez ben: e io primes beurai le men, e pois apres chescon le soen, par mon conseil. si io vus di trestoz wesseyl dehaiz eil qui ne dirra drincheyl. translation. now, lordings, listen to our ditty, strangers coming from afar; let poor minstrels move your pity, give us welcome, soothe our care: in this mansion, as they tell us, christmas wassell keeps to-day; and, as the king of all good fellows, reigns with uncontrouled sway. lordings, in these realms of pleasure, father christmas yearly dwells; deals out joy with liberal measure, gloomy sorrow soon dispels: numerous guests, and viands dainty, fill the hall and grace the board; mirth and beauty, peace and plenty, solid pleasures here afford. lordings, 'tis said the liberal mind, that on the needy much bestows, from heav'n a sure reward shall find; from heav'n, whence ev'ry blessing flows. who largely gives with willing hand, or quickly gives with willing heart, his fame shall spread throughout the land, his mem'ry thence shall ne'er depart. lordings, grant not your protection to a base unworthy crew, but cherish, with a kind affection, men that are loyal, good, and true. chase from your hospitable dwelling swinish souls that ever crave; virtue they can ne'er excel in, gluttons never can be brave. lordings, christmas loves good drinking. wines of gascoigne, france, anjou, english ale that drives out thinking, prince of liquors, old or new. every neighbour shares the bowl, drinks of the spicy liquor deep, drinks his fill without controul, till he drowns his care in sleep. and now--by christmas, jolly soul! by this mansion's generous sieur! by the wine, and by the bowl, and all the joys they both inspire! here i'll drink a health to all: the glorious task shall first be mine: and ever may foul luck befall him that to pledge me shall decline. the chorus. hail, father christmas! hail to thee! honour'd ever shalt thou be! all the sweets that love bestows, endless pleasures, wait on those who, like vassals brave and true, give to christmas homage due. wynkyn de worde first printed christmas carols in , but there were many ms. carols in existence before then. here is a very pretty one from mr. wright's fifteenth-century ms.:-- to blys god bryng us al and sum. _christe, redemptor omnium._ in bedlem, that fayer cyte, was born a chyld that was so fre, lord and prince of hey degre, _jam lucis orto sidere._ jhesu, for the lowe of the, chylder wer slayn grett plente in bedlem, that fayer cyte, _a solis ortus cardine._ as the sune schynyth in the glas, so jhesu of hys moder borne was; hym to serve god gyffe us grace, _o lux beata trinitas._ now is he oure lord jhesus; thus hath he veryly vysyt us; now to mak mery among us _exultet coelum laudibus._ the next carol i give has always been a popular favourite, and can be traced back to the fourteenth century, when it was called "joyes fyve." in mr. wright's fifteenth-century ms. it is "off the five joyes of our lady." it afterwards became the "seven joys of mary," and has expanded to the twelve good joys of mary. the first good joy our mary had, it was the joy of one, to see her own son jesus to suck at her breast-bone. to suck at her breast-bone, good man, and blessed may he be, both father, son and holy ghost, to all eternity. the next good joy our mary had, it was the joy of two, to see her own son jesus to make the lame to go. to make the lame, etc. the next good joy our mary had, it was the joy of three, to see her own son jesus to make the blind to see. to make the blind to see, etc. the next good joy our mary had, it was the joy of four, to see her own son jesus to read the bible o'er. to read, etc. the next good joy our mary had, it was the joy of five, to see her own son jesus to raise the dead alive. to raise, etc. the next good joy our mary had, it was the joy of six, to see her own son jesus to wear the crucifix. to wear, etc. the next good joy our mary had, it was the joy of seven, to see her own son jesus to wear the crown of heaven. to wear, etc. the next good joy our mary had, it was the joy of eight, to see our blessed saviour turn darkness into light. turn darkness, etc. the next good joy our mary had, it was the joy of nine, to see our blessed saviour turn water into wine. turn water, etc. the next good joy our mary had, it was the joy of ten, to see our blessed saviour write without a pen. write without, etc. the next good joy our mary had, it was the joy of eleven, to see our blessed saviour shew the gates of heaven. shew the gates, etc. the next good joy our mary had, it was the joy of twelve, to see our blessed saviour shut close the gates of hell. shut close, etc. "on christmas day in the morning" and "god rest you, merry gentlemen," are both very old and popular, the latter extremely so; in fact, it is the carol most known. the next example was first printed by the rev. arthur bedford, who wrote many books and published sermons between and , but his version began somewhat differently:-- a virgin unspotted, the prophets did tell, should bring forth a saviour, as now it befell. a virgin most pure. a virgin most pure, as the prophets did tell, hath brought forth a baby, as it hath befell, to be our redeemer from death, hell and sin, which adam's transgression hath wrapped us in. rejoice and be merry, set sorrow aside, christ jesus, our saviour, was born on this tide. in bethlehem, a city in jewry it was-- where joseph and mary together did pass, and there to be taxed, with many ane mo, for cæsar commanded the same should be so. rejoice, etc. but when they had entered the city so fair, a number of people so mighty was there, that joseph and mary, whose substance was small, could get in the city no lodging at all. rejoice, etc. then they were constrained in a stable to lie, where oxen and asses they used to tie; their lodging so simple, they held it no scorn, but against the next morning our saviour was born. rejoice, etc. then god sent an angel from heaven so high, to certain poor shepherds in fields where they lie, and bid them no longer in sorrow to stay, because that our saviour was born on this day. rejoice, etc. then presently after, the shepherds did spy a number of angels appear in the sky, who joyfully talked, and sweetly did sing, "to god be all glory, our heavenly king." rejoice, etc. three certain wise princes they thought it most meet to lay their rich offerings at our saviour's feet; so then they consented, and to bethlehem did go, and when they came thither they found it was so. rejoice, etc. but all christmas carols were not religious--many of them were of the most festive description; but here is one, temp. henry viii., which is a mixture of both:-- noel, noel, noel, noel, who is there, that singeth so, noel, noel, noel? i am here, sir christhismass, welcome, my lord christhismass, welcome to all, both more and less. come near, noel. _dieu vous garde, beau sire_, tidings i you bring, a maid hath born a child full young, the which causeth for to sing, noel. christ is now born of a pure maid, in an ox stall he is laid, wherefore sing we all at a braid,[ ] noel. _buvez bien par toute la compagnie_, make good cheer, and be right merry, and sing with us, now, joyfully, noel. [footnote : suddenly.] of the purely festive carols here is an example of the fifteenth century, from mr. wright's ms.:-- at the begynnyng of the mete of a borejs hed e schal hete; and in the mustard e xal wete; and e xal syngyn, or e gon. wolcom be e that ben here, and e xal have ryth gud chere, and also a ryth gud face; and e xal syngyn, or e gon. welcum be e everychon, for e xal syngyn ryth anon; hey ow fast that e had don, and e xal syngyn, or e gon. the last i give is of the sixteenth century, and is in the british museum (ms. cott. vesp. a. xxv.):-- a christenmesse carroll a bonne, god wote! stickes in my throate, without i have a draught, of cornie aile, nappy and staile, my lyffe lyes in great wanste. some ayle or beare, gentell butlere, some lycoure thou hus showe, such as you mashe, our throtes to washe the best were that you brew. saint, master and knight, that saint mault hight, were prest between two stones; that swet humour of his lycoure would make us sing at once. mr. wortley, i dar well say, i tell you as i thinke, would not, i say, byd hus this day, but that we shuld have drink. his men so tall walkes up his hall, with many a comly dishe; of his good meat i cannot eate, without a drink i-wysse. now gyve hus drink, and let cat wynke, i tell you all at once, yt stickes so sore, i may sing no more, tyll i have dronken once. chapter xxiv christmas gifts forbidden in the city of london--charles ii. and christmas gifts--christmas tree--asiatic descent--scandinavian descent--candles on the tree--early notices of in england--santa claus--krishkinkle--curious tenures of land at christmas. the presentation of gifts on christmas day was an english custom of very great antiquity; so great that, in , the practice had become much corrupted, and the abuse had to be sternly repressed. hence we find the following[ ] "_regulation made that the serjeants and other officers of the mayor, sheriffs, or city, shall not beg for christmas gifts._ [footnote : _corporation letter-book_, i. fol. .] "forasmuch as it is not becoming or agreeable to propriety that those who are in the service of reverend men, and from them, or through them, have the advantage of befitting food and raiment, as also of reward, or remuneration, in a competent degree, should, after a perverse custom, be begging aught of people, like paupers; and seeing that in times past, every year at the feast of our lord's nativity ( th december), according to a certain custom, which has grown to be an abuse, the vadlets of the mayor, the sheriffs and the chamber of the said city--persons who have food, raiment, and appropriate advantages, resulting from their office,--under colour of asking for an oblation, have begged many sums of money of brewers, bakers, cooks, and other victuallers; and, in some instances, have, more than once, threatened wrongfully to do them an injury if they should refuse to give them something; and have frequently made promises to others that, in return for a present, they would pass over their unlawful doings in mute silence; to the great dishonour of their masters, and to the common loss of all the city: therefore, on wednesday, the last day of april, in the th year of king henry the fifth, by william sevenok, the mayor, and the aldermen of london, it was ordered and established that no vadlet, or other sergeant of the mayor, sheriffs, or city, should in future beg or require of any person, of any rank, degree, or condition whatsoever, any moneys, under colour of an oblation, or in any other way, on pain of losing his office." royalty was not above receiving presents on this day, and as, of course, such presents could not be of small value, it must have been no small tax on the nobility. pepys ( rd february ) remarks: "this day i was told that my lady castlemaine hath all the king's christmas presents, made him by the peers, given to her, which is a most abominable thing." he records his own christmas gifts ( th december ): "being a fine, light, moonshine morning, home round the city, and stopped and dropped money at five or six places, which i was the willinger to do, it being christmas day." but the prettiest method of distributing christmas gifts was reserved for comparatively modern times, in the christmas tree. anent this wonderful tree there are many speculations, one or two so curious that they deserve mention. it is said of a certain living professor that he deduces everything from an indian or aryan descent; and there is a long and very learned article by sir george birdwood, c.s.i., in the _asiatic quarterly review_ (vol. i. pp. , ), who endeavours to trace it to an eastern origin. he says: "only during the past thirty or forty years has the custom become prevalent in england of employing the christmas tree as an appropriate decoration, and a most delightful vehicle for showering down gifts upon the young, in connection with domestic and public popular celebrations of the joyous ecclesiastical festival of the nativity. it is said to have been introduced among us from germany, where it is regarded as indigenous, and it is, probably, a survival of some observance connected with the pagan saturnalia of the winter solstice, to supersede which, the church, about the fifth century of our era, instituted christmas day. "it has, indeed, been explained as being derived from the ancient egyptian practice of decking houses at the time of the winter solstice with branches of the date palm, the symbol of life triumphant over death, and therefore of perennial life in the renewal of each bounteous year; and the supporters of this suggestion point to the fact that pyramids of green paper, covered all over with wreaths and festoons of flowers, and strings of sweetmeats, and other presents for children, are often substituted in germany for the christmas tree. "but similar pyramids, together with similar trees, the latter, usually, altogether artificial, and often constructed of the costliest materials, even of gems and gold, are carried about at marriage ceremonies in india, and at many festivals, such as the hoolee, or annual festival of the vernal equinox. these pyramids represent mount meru and the earth; and the trees, the kalpadruma, or 'tree of ages,' and the fragrant parajita, the tree of every perfect gift, which grew on the slopes of mount meru; and, in their enlarged sense, they symbolise the splendour of the outstretched heavens, as of a tree, laden with golden fruit, deep-rooted in the earth. both pyramids and trees are also phallic emblems of life, individual, terrestrial, and celestial. therefore, if a relationship exists between the egyptian practice of decking houses at the winter solstice with branches of the date palm, and the german and english custom of using gift-bearing and brilliantly illuminated evergreen trees, which are, nearly always, firs, as a christmas decoration, it is most probably due to collateral rather than to direct descent; and this is indicated by the egyptians having regarded the date palm, not only as an emblem of immortality, but, also, of the starlit firmament." others attempt to trace the christmas tree to the scandinavian legend of the mystic tree yggdrasil, which sprang from the centre of mid-gard, and the summit of as-gard, with branches spreading out over the whole earth, and reaching above the highest heavens, whilst its three great roots go down into the lowest hell. a writer in the _cornhill magazine_, december , thus accounts for the candles on the tree-- "but how came the lights on the christmas tree? "in the ninth month of the jewish year, corresponding nearly to our december, and on the twenty-fifth day, the jews celebrated the feast of the dedication of their temple. it had been desecrated on that day by antiochus; it was rededicated by judas maccabeus; and then, according to the jewish legend, sufficient oil was found in the temple to last for the seven-branched candlestick for seven days, and it would have taken seven days to prepare new oil. accordingly, the jews were wont, on the twenty-fifth of kislen, in every house, to light a candle, on the next day, two, and so on, till on the seventh and last day of the feast, seven candles twinkled in every house. it is not easy to fix the exact date of the nativity, but it fell, most probably, on the last day of kislen, when every jewish house in bethlehem and jerusalem was twinkling with lights. it is worthy of notice that the german name for christmas is _weihnacht_, the night of dedication, as though it were associated with this feast. the greeks also call christmas the feast of lights; and, indeed, this also was a name given to the dedication festival, _chanuka_, by the jews." that this pretty christ-tide custom came to us from germany there can be no doubt, and all the early notices of it show that it was so. thus the first mention of it that i can find is in _court and private life in the time of queen charlotte, being the journals of mrs. papendiek_, vol. ii. . speaking of christ-tide , she says: "this christmas mr. papendiek proposed an illuminated tree, according to the german fashion, but the blagroves being at home for their fortnight, and the party at mrs. roach's for the holidays, i objected to it. our eldest girl, charlotte, being only six the th of this november, i thought our children too young to be amused at so much expense and trouble." a.j. kempe, esq., in a footnote to p. of the losely mss., edited by him in , says: "we remember a german of the household of the late queen caroline making what he termed a _christmas tree_ for a juvenile party at that festive season. the tree was a branch of some evergreen fastened to a board. its boughs bent under the weight of gilt oranges, almonds, &c., and under it was a neat model of a farm house, surrounded by figures of animals, &c., and all due accompaniments." charles greville, in his _memoirs_, writes thus of christ-tide as celebrated at panshanger. "the princess lieven got up a little _fête_ such as is customary all over germany. three trees in great pots were put upon a long table covered with pink linen; each tree was illuminated with three circular tiers of coloured wax candles--blue, green, red, and white. before each tree was displayed a quantity of toys, gloves, pocket handkerchiefs, work boxes, books, and various articles--presents made to the owner of the tree. it was very pretty. here it was only for the children; in germany the custom extends to persons of all ages." one more extract, to show about what time it became popular, and i have done. it is from _mary howitt, an autobiography_ (vol. i. ). "our practical knowledge of the christmas tree was gained in this first winter at heidelberg. universal as the custom now is, i believe the earliest knowledge which the english public had of it was through coleridge in his _biographia literaria_. it had, at the time i am writing of-- --been introduced into manchester by some of the german merchants established there. our queen and prince albert likewise celebrated the festival with its beautiful old german customs. thus the fashion spread, until now even our asylums, schools, and workhouses have, through friends and benefactors, each its christmas tree." another pretty christ-tide custom has also come to us from germany, that of putting presents into stockings left out for the purpose whilst the children sleep on christmas eve. st. nicholas (or santa claus, as he is now called), the patron of children, ought to get the credit of it. in america the presents are supposed to be brought by a fabulous personage called _krishkinkle_, who is believed to come down the chimney laden with good things for those children whose conduct had been exemplary during the past year; for peccant babies the stocking held a birch rod. _krishkinkle_ is a corruption of _christ-kindlein_ or child christ. there are some very curious tenures of lands and manors connected with christmas which must not be passed over. i have taken them from blount's book on the subject, as being the best authority. bondby, lincolnshire.--sir edward botiler, knight, and ann, his wife, sister and heir of hugh le despencer, hold the manor of bondby, in the county of lincoln, by the service of bearing a white rod before our lord the king on the feast of christmas, if the king should be in that county at the said feast. bridshall, staffordshire.--sir philip de somerville, knight, holdeth of his lord, the earl of lancaster, the manor of briddeshalle by these services, that at such time as his lord holdeth his christmas at tutbury, the said sir philip shall come to tutbury upon christmas even, and shall be lodged in the town of tutbury, by the marshal of the earl's house, and upon christmas day he himself, or some other knight, his deputy, shall go to the dresser, and shall sew[ ] his lord's mess, and then shall he carve the same meat to his said lord, and this service shall he do as well at supper as at dinner, and, when his lord hath eaten, the said sir philip shall sit down in the same place where his lord sat, and shall be served at his table by the steward of the earl's house. and upon st. stephen's day, when he hath dined, he shall take his leave of his lord and shall kiss him; and all these services to-fore rehearsed, the said philip hath done by the space of xlviii years, and his ancestors before him, to his lords, earls of lancaster. [footnote : place the dishes before him, and remove them.] brimington, derbyshire.--geoffery, son of william de brimington, gave, granted, and confirmed to peter, son of hugh de brimington, one toft with the buildings, and three acres of land in the fields there, with twenty pence yearly rent, which he used to receive of thomas, son of gilbert de bosco, with the homages, etc., rendering yearly to him and his heirs a pair of white gloves, of the price of a halfpenny, at christmas yearly, for all services. brook house, yorkshire.--a farm at langsett, in the parish of peniston and county of york, pays yearly to godfrey bosville, esqre., a snowball at midsummer, and a red rose at christmas. burge, derbyshire.--hugh, son and heir of philip de stredley, made fine with the king by two marks for his relief for the mill of burge, in the county of derby, which the said philip held of the king _in capite_, by the service of finding one man bearing a heron falcon, every year in season, before the king, when he should be summoned, and to take for performing the said service, at the cost of the king, two robes at whitsuntide and christmas. greens-norton, northamptonshire.--this, so named of the greens (persons famed in the sixteenth century for their wealth), called before norton-dauncy, was held of the king _in capite_ by the service of lifting up their right hands towards the king yearly, on christmas day, wheresoever the king should then be in england. hawarden and bosele, cheshire.--the manors of hawarden and bosele, with the appurtenances in the county of cheshire, are held of the king _in capite_ by robert de monhault, earl of arundel, by being steward of the county of cheshire, _viz._ by the service of setting down the first dish before the earl of chester at chester on christmas day. hedsor, bucks.--an estate in this parish, called lambert farm, was formerly held under the manor by the service of bringing in the first dish at the lord's table on st. stephen's day, and presenting him with two hens, a cock, a gallon of ale, and two manchets of white bread; after dinner the lord delivered to the tenant a sparrow hawk and a couple of spaniels, to be kept at his costs and charges for the lord's use. hemingston, suffolk.--rowland le sarcere held one hundred and ten acres of land in hemingston by serjeanty; for which, on christmas day every year, before our sovereign lord the king of england, he should perform altogether, and at once, a leap, puff up his cheeks, therewith making a sound, and let a crack. levington, yorkshire.--adam de bras, lord of skelton, gave in marriage with his daughter isabel, to henry de percy, eldest son and heir of joceline de lovain (ancestor to the present duke of northumberland), the manor of levington, for which he and his heirs were to repair to skelton castle every christmas day, and lead the lady of that castle from her chamber to the chapel to mass, and thence to her chamber again, and after dining with her, to depart. redworth, co. durham.--in the fourth year of bishop skirlawe, , john de redworth died, seised in his demesne, &c. of two messuages and twenty-six acres of land and meadow, with the appurtenances, in redworth, held of the said lord bishop _in capite_ by homage and fealty, and the service of four shillings and ten pence a year, to be paid at the exchequer at durham, and the rent of one hen and two parts of a hen to be paid at the same exchequer yearly at christmas. stamford, lincolnshire.--william, earl warren, lord of this town in the time of king john, standing upon the castle walls, saw two bulls fighting for a cow in the castle meadow, till all the butchers' dogs pursued one of the bulls (maddened with noise and multitude) clean through the town. this sight so pleased the earl that he gave the castle meadow, where the bulls' duel had begun, for a common to the butchers of the town, after the first grass was mown, on condition that they should find a mad bull the day six weeks before christmas day, for the continuance of the sport for ever. thurgarton and horsepoll, notts.--the tenants of these manors held their lands by these customs and services. every native and villein (which were such as we call husbandmen) paid each a cock and a hen, besides a small rent in money, for a toft and one bovate of land, held of the priory of thurgarton. these cocks and hens were paid the second day in christmas, and that day every one, both cottagers and natives, dined in the hall; and those who did not had a white loaf and a flagon of ale, with one mess from the kitchen. and all the reapers in harvest, which were called hallewimen, were to eat in the hall one day in christmas, or afterwards, at the discretion of the cellarer. there is a curious custom still carried out at queen's college, oxford. on the feast of the circumcision the bursar gives to every member a needle and thread, adding the injunction, "take this and be thrifty." it is said, i know not with what truth, that it is to commemorate the name of the founder, robert egglesfield--by the visible pun, _aiguille_ (needle) and _fil_ (thread). chapter xxv christ-tide literature--christmas cards--their origin--lamplighter's verses--watchman's verses--christmas pieces. the literature specially designed nowadays for christmas reading is certainly not of a high order, whether we take books--which are issued at this time by the hundred--or the special numbers of magazines and newspapers, all of which have rubbishing stories with some tag in them relating to christ-tide. tales of ghosts, etc., were at one time very fashionable, and even dickens pandered to this miserable style of writing, not enhancing his reputation thereby. akin in merit to this literature are the mottoes we find in the _bon bon_ crackers, and the verses on christmas cards, which are on a par with those which adorned the defunct valentine. when first christmas cards came into vogue they were expensive and comparatively good; now they are simply rubbish, and generally have no allusion either in the design, or doggrel to christ-tide, to which they owe their existence. their origin was thoroughly threshed out in _notes and queries_, and i give the correspondence thereon ( th series, v. ). "christmas cards were first published and issued from summerly's _home treasury_ office, old bond street, in the year . the design was drawn by j.c. horsley, r.a., at the suggestion of sir henry cole, k.c.b., and carried out by de la rue and co." (_ib._ ) "mr. platt is somewhat in error in stating that the first christmas card was carried out by de la rue and co. this firm republished it last year ( ) in chromo-lithography, but in it was produced in outline by lithography, and coloured by hand by a colourer of that time named mason, when it could not have been sold for less than a shilling. last year chromo-lithography enabled it to be produced for two pence. the original publisher was mr. joseph cundall. it may be well to place the design on record. a trellis of rustic work in the germanesque style divided the card into a centre and two side panels. the sides were filled by representations of the feeding of the hungry and the clothing of the naked; in the central compartment a family party was shown at table--an old man and woman, a maiden and her young man, and several children,--and they were pictured drinking healths in wine. on this ground certain total abstainers have called in question the morality of mr. horsley's design." _the publishers' circular_, st december (p. ), says: "several years ago, in the christmas number of _the publishers' circular_, we described the original christmas card, designed by mr. j.c. horsley, r.a., at the suggestion of sir henry cole, and no contradiction was then offered to our theory that this must have been the real and original card. on thursday, however, mr. john leighton, writing under his _nom de plume_, 'luke limner,' comes forward to contest the claim of priority of design, and says: 'occasional cards of a purely private character have been done years ago, but the christmas card pure and simple is the growth of our town and our time. it began in , the first attempts being the size of the ordinary gentleman's address card, on which were simply put "a merry christmas" and "a happy new year"; after that there came to be added robins and holly branches, embossed figures and landscapes. having made the original designs for these, i have the originals before me now; they were produced by goodall and son. seeing a growing want, and the great sale obtained abroad, this house produced ( ) a "little red riding hood," a "hermit and his cell," and many other subjects in which snow and the robin played a part.' we fail to see how a card issued in can ante-date the production of , a copy of which is in our possession; and although there is no copyright in an idea, the title to the honour of originating the pretty trifle now so familiar to us seems to rest with sir henry cole." _the times_ of nd january has the following letter:-- "sir--the writer of the article on christmas cards in _the times_ of december th is quite right in his assertion. the first christmas card ever published was issued by me in the usual way, in the year , at the office of _felix summerly's home treasury_, at old bond street. mr. henry cole (afterwards sir henry) originated the idea. the drawing was made by j.c. horsley, r.a.; it was printed in lithography by mr. jobbins of warwick court, holborn, and coloured by hand. many copies were sold, but possibly not more than . it was of the usual size of a lady's card. those my friend luke limner speaks of were not brought out, as he says, till many years after.--joseph cundall." as works of art--compared with the majority of christmas cards, which are mostly "made in germany"--the card almanacs presented by tradesmen to their customers are generally of a very superior character. in the old days, when there were oil lamps in the streets, the lamplighter, like the bellman and the watchman, used annually at christmas to leave some verses at every house to remind its occupier that boxing day drew nigh. one example will suffice, and its date is :-- the lamplighter's poem: humbly presented to all his worthy masters and mistresses. _compos'd by a lamplighter._ revolving time another glass has run, since i, last year, this annual task begun, and christmas now beginning to appear (which never comes, you know, but once a year), i have presum'd to bring my mite once more, which, tho' it be but small, is all my store; and i don't doubt you'll take it in good part, as 'tis the tribute of a grateful heart. brave prussia's king, that true protestant prince, for valour fam'd, endow'd with martial sense; against three mighty potentates did stand, who would have plundered him of all his land: but god, who knew his cause was just and right, gave him such courage and success in fight: born to oppose the pope's malignant clan, he'll do whatever prince or hero can; retrieve that martial fame by britons lost, and prove that faith which graceless christians boast. o! make his cause, ye powers above! your care; let guilt shrink back, and innocence appear. but, now, with state affairs i must have done, and to the business of my lamps must run; when sun and moon from you do hide their head, your busy streets with artful lights are spread, and gives you light with great indulgent care, makes the dark night like the bright day appear; then we poor useful mortals nimbly run to light your lamps before the day is gone: with strictest care, we to each lamp give fire, the longest night to burn: you do require of us to make each lamp to burn that time, but, oft, we do fall short of that design: sometimes a lamp goes out at master's door, this happens once which ne'er did so before: the lamp-man's blamed, and ask'd the reason why that should go out, and others burning by? kind, worthy sirs, if i may be so bold, a truer tale to you was never told; we trim, we give each lamp their oil alike, yet some goes out, while others keep alight: why they do so, to you we can't explain, it ne'er did sink into our shallow brain: nor have we heard that any one could tell, that secret place where life of fire does dwell, such various motions in it we do find, and a hard task with it to please mankind. now, our kind master, who contractor is, if a complaint he hears of lamps amiss, with strictest care the streets looks round about, and views the lamps, takes notice which are out; then, in great fury, he to us replies, such lamps were out, why have i all this noise? go fetch those burners all down here to me, that where the fault is i may plainly see: then straight he views them, with remains of oil, crys, ah! i thought you did these lamps beguile; but now the thing i do more plainly see, the burning oil is a great mystery: then come, my boys, to work, make no delay, keep from complaints, if possible you may; clean well each glass, i'll spare for no expence where i contract, to please th' inhabitants. since time still flies, and life is but a vapour, 'tis now high time that i conclude my paper, and, if my verses have the luck to please, my mind will be exceedingly at ease; but, if this shouldn't please, i know what will, and that's with diligence to serve you still. finis. hone, in his _every-day book_ (vol. i. p. ), gives, date :-- a copy of christmas verses, presented to the inhabitants of bungay by their humble servants, the late watchmen, john pye and john tye. your pardon, gentles, while we thus implore, in strains not less _awakening_ than of yore, those smiles we deem our best reward to catch, and, for the which, we've long been on the _watch_; well pleas'd if we that recompence obtain, which we have ta'en so many _steps_ to gain. think of the perils in our _calling past_, the chilling coldness of the midnight blast, the beating rain, the swiftly-driving snow, the various ills that we must undergo, who roam, the glow-worms of the human race, the living jack-a-lanthorns of the place. 'tis said by some, perchance to mock our toil, that we are prone to "_waste the midnight oil_!" and that a task thus idle to pursue would be an idle _waste of money_, too! how hard that we the _dark_ designs should rue of those who'd fain make _light_ of all we do! but such the fate which oft doth merit greet, and which now drives us fairly off our beat! thus it appears from this, our dismal plight, that _some_ love _darkness_ rather than the _light_. henceforth, let riot and disorder reign, with all the ills that follow in their train; let toms and jerrys unmolested brawl (no _charlies_ have they now to _floor_ withal). and "rogues and vagabonds" infest the town, far cheaper 'tis to _save_ than _crack a crown_. to brighter scenes we now direct our view-- and, first, fair ladies, let us turn to you. may each new year new joys, new pleasures bring, and life for you be one delightful spring! no summer's sun annoy with fev'rish rays, no winter chill the evening of your days! to you, kind sirs, we next our tribute pay: may smiles and sunshine greet you on your way! if married, calm and peaceful be your lives; if single, may you, forthwith, get you wives! thus, whether male or female, old or young or wed, or single, be this burden sung: long may you live to hear, and we to call, "_a happy christmas and new year to all._" the present generation has never seen, and probably never heard of, "christmas pieces," or specimens of handwriting, which went out of vogue fifty years ago. it was very useful, as the boy took great pride in its writing, and parents could judge of their children's proficiency in penmanship. sometimes these sheets were surrounded with elaborate flourishings of birds, pens, scrolls, etc., such as the writing-master of the last century delighted in; others were headed with copper-plate engravings, sometimes coloured. here are a few of the subjects: ruth and boaz, measuring the temple (ezekiel), philip baptising the eunuch, the good samaritan, joshua's command, john the baptist preaching in the wilderness, the seven wonders of the world, king william iii., st. paul's shipwreck, etc., etc. a publisher, writing to _notes and queries_ in ( series, vi. ) about these "christmas pieces," says: "as a youngster, some thirty years ago, in my father's establishment, the sale of 'school pieces,' or 'christmas pieces,' as they were called, was very large. my father published some thirty different subjects (a new one every year, one of the old ones being let go out of print). there were also three other publishers of them. the order to print used to average about of each kind, but double of the life of our saviour. most of the subjects were those of the old testament. i only recollect four subjects not sacred. printing at home, we generally commenced the printing in august from the copper-plates, as they had to be coloured by hand. they sold, retail, at sixpence each, and we used to supply them to the trade at thirty shillings per gross, and to schools at three shillings and sixpence per dozen, or two dozen for six shillings and sixpence. charity boys were large purchasers of these pieces, and at christmas time used to take them round their parish to show, and, at the same time, solicit a trifle. the sale never began before october in the country, and december in london; and early in january the stock left used to be put by until the following season. it is over fifteen years since any were printed by my firm, and the last new one i find was done in lithography." chapter xxvi carol for st. stephen's day--boxing day--origin of custom--early examples--the box--bleeding horses--festivity on this day--charity at bampton--hunting the wren in ireland--song of the wren boys. on the day succeeding christmas day the church commemorates the death of the proto-martyr stephen, and in honour of this festival the following carol is sung:-- in friendly love and unity, for good _st. stephen's_ sake, let us all, this blessed day, to heaven our prayers make: that we with him the cross of christ may freely undertake. _and_ jesus _will send you his blessing._ those accursed infidels that stoned him to death, could not by their cruelties withhold him from his faith, in such a godly martyrdom seek we all the path. _and_ jesus, etc. and whilst we sit here banqueting, of dainties having store, let us not forgetful be to cherish up the poor; and give what is convenient to those that ask at door. _and_ jesus, etc. for god hath made you stewards here, upon the earth to dwell; he that gathereth for himself, and will not use it well, lives far worse than _dives_ did, that burneth now in hell. _and_ jesus, etc. and, now, in love and charity, see you your table spread, that i may taste of your good cheer, your _christmas_ ale and bread: then i may say that i full well for this, my carol, sped. _and_ jesus, etc. for bounty is a blessed gift, the lord above it sends, and he that gives it from his hands, deserveth many friends: i see it on my master's board, and so my carol ends. _lord_ jesus, etc. but st. stephen's day is much better known in england as "boxing day," from the kindly custom of recognising little services rendered during the year by giving a christmas box--a custom which, of course, is liable to abuse, and especially when, as in many instances, it is regarded as a right, in which case it loses its pleasant significance. no one knows how old this custom is, nor its origin. hutchinson, in his _history of northumberland_ (vol. ii. p. ), says: "the paganalia of the romans, instituted by servius tullius, were celebrated in the beginning of the year; an altar was erected in each village, where all persons gave money." there is a somewhat whimsical account of its origin in the first attempt at _notes and queries_, _the_ athenian _oracle_, by john dunton ( , vol. i. ). "q. _from whence comes the custom of gathering of_ christmas box money? _and how long since?_ "a. it is as ancient as the word _mass_, which the romish priests invented from the _latin_ word _mitto_, to send, by putting people in mind to send gifts, offerings, oblations, to have masses said for everything almost, that a ship goes not out to the _indies_, but the priest have a box in that ship, under the protection of some saint. and for masses, as they cant, to be said for them to that saint, etc., the poor people must put something into the priest's box, which is not to be opened till the ship return. thus the mass at that time was called _christ's mass_, and the box, _christ's mass box_, or money gathered against that time, that masses might be made by the priests to the saints, to forgive the people the debaucheries of that time; and from this, servants had the liberty to get box-money, because they might be able to pay the priest for his masses, because _no penny, no paternoster_." at all events, the christmas box was a well-known institution in the early seventeenth century. we have already seen pepys "dropping money" here and there at christ-tide, and on th december he notes: "called up by drums and trumpets; these things and boxes having cost me much money this christmas already, and will do more." yet the custom must have been much older, for in the accounts of dame agnes merett, cellaress of syon monastery, at isleworth, in henry viii., - (_record office roll_, t.g. , ), the following are entered among the _foreigne paymentes_: "reward to the servauntes at crystemas, with their aprons xxs. reward to the clerk of the kechyn, xiijs. iiijd. reward to the baily of the husbandry, vis. viijd. reward to the keeper of the covent garden, vis. viijd." as time went on we find increasing notices of christmas boxes. in beaumont and fletcher's _wit without money_ (act ii. sc. ) "a widow is a christmas box that sweeps all." swift, in his _journal to stella_, mentions them several times. th december : "by the lord harry, i shall be undone here with christmas boxes. the rogues at the coffee-house have raised their tax, every one giving a crown, and i gave mine for shame, besides a great many half-crowns to great men's porters," etc. th december : "i gave patrick half a crown for his christmas box, on condition he would be good; and he came home drunk at midnight." nd january : "i see nothing here like christmas, excepting brawn and mince pies in places where i dine, and giving away my half crowns like farthings to great men's porters and butlers." gay, in his _trivia_, thus mentions it:-- some boys are rich by birth beyond all wants, belov'd by uncles, and kind, good, old aunts; when time comes round, a _christmas box_ they bear, and one day makes them rich for all the year. but the christmas _box_ was an entity, and tangible; it was a saving's box made of earthenware, which must be broken before the cash could be extracted, as can be proved by several quotations, and the gift took its name from the receptacle for it. in mason's _handful of essaies_ : "like a swine, he never doth good till his death; as an apprentice's box of earth, apt he is to take all, but to restore none till hee be broken." in the frontispiece to blaxton's _english usurer_, , the same simile is used:-- both with the christmas boxe may well comply, it nothing yields till broke; they till they die. and again, in browne's _map of the microcosme_, , speaking of a covetous man, he says, he "doth exceed in receiving, but is very deficient in giving; like the christmas earthen boxes of apprentices, apt to take in money, but he restores none till hee be broken, like a potter's vessell, into many shares." aubrey, in his _wiltshire collections_, _circ._ (p. ), thus describes a _trouvaille_ of roman coins. "among the rest was an earthen pott of the colour of a crucible, and of the shape of a prentice's christmas box, with a slit in it, containing about a quart, which was near full of money. this pot i gave to the repository of the royal society at gresham college." and, to wind up these christmas box notices, i may quote a verse from henry carey's "sally in our alley" ( ?). when christmas comes about again, oh! then i shall have money; i'll hoard it up, and box and all, i'll give it to my honey. there used to be a very curious custom on st. stephen's day, which douce says was introduced into this country by danes--that of bleeding horses. that it was usual is, i think, proved by very different authorities. tusser says:-- yer christmas be passed, let horsse be let blood, for manie a purpose it dooth him much good; the day of s. steeven old fathers did use; if that do mislike thee, some other day chuse. and barnebe googe, in his translation of naogeorgus, remarks:-- then followeth saint stephen's day, whereon doth every man his horses iaunt and course abrode, as swiftly as he can; untill they doe extreemely sweate, and than they let them blood, for this being done upon this day, they say doth do them good, and keepes them from all maladies and secknesse through the yeare, as if that steuen any time tooke charge of horses heare. aubrey, also, in his _remains of gentilisme_, says: "on st. stephen's day the farrier came constantly, and blouded all our cart horses." it was occasionally the day of great festivity, even though it came so very closely after christmas day; and mr. j.g. nichols, in _notes and queries_ ( ser. viii. ), quotes a letter, dated nd january , in confirmation. it is from an alderman of leicester to his brother in wood street, cheapside. "yow wryte how yow reacayved my lettar on st. steven's day, and that, i thanke yow, yow esteemed yt as welcoom as the trumpytors; w^{t} in so doing, i must and will esteme yowres, god willing, more wellcoom then trumpets and all the musicke we have had since christmas, and yet we have had prety store bothe of owre owne and othar, evar since christmas. and the same day we were busy w^{t} hollding up hands and spoones to yow, out of porredge and pyes, in the remembraunce of yowre greate lyberality of frute and spice, which god send yow long lyffe to contynew, for of that day we have not myssed anny st. steven this yeare to have as many gas (_guests_) as my howse will holld, i thank god for yt." in southey's _common place book_ it is noted that the three vicars of bampton, oxon., give beef and beer on the morning of st. stephen's day to those who choose to partake of it. this is called st. stephen's breakfast. the same book also mentions a singular custom in wales, that on this day everybody is privileged to whip another person's legs with holly, which is often reciprocated till the blood streams down; and this is corroborated in mason's _tales and traditions of tenby_, where it is mentioned as being practised in that town. we have heard of hunting the wren in the isle of man; the same custom obtains in the south of ireland, only it takes place on st. stephen's day. there is a tradition which is supposed to account for this animosity against this pretty and harmless little bird. in one of the many irish rebellions a night march was made by a body of rebels on a party of royalists, and when, about dawn of day, they neared the sleeping out-posts, a slumbering drummer was aroused by a tapping on his drum; and, giving the alarm, the rebels were repulsed. the tapping was caused by a wren pecking at the crumbs left on the drum-head after the drummer's last meal. henceforward a grudge was nursed against the wren, which has existed until now. the "wren boys" go round, calling at houses, either having a dead wren in a box, or hung on a holly bush, and they sing a song:-- the wran, the wran, the king of all birds, on st. stephen's day she's cotched in the furze; although she's but wee, her family's great, so come down, lan'leddy, and gie us a trate. then up wi' the kettle, an' down wi' the pan, an' let us ha' money to bury the wran. croker, in his _researches in the south of ireland_ (p. ), gives us more of this song:-- the wren, the wren, the king of all birds, st. stephen's day was caught in the furze; although he is little, his family's great, i pray you, good landlady, give us a treat. my box would speak if it had but a tongue, and two or three shillings would do it no wrong; sing holly, sing ivy--sing ivy, sing holly, a drop just to drink, it would drown melancholy. and, if you draw it of the best, i hope in heaven your soul may rest; but, if you draw it of the small, it won't agree with the wren boys at all, etc. etc. "a small piece of money is usually bestowed on them, and the evening concludes in merrymaking with the money thus collected." chapter xxvii st. john's day--legend of the saint--carols for the day--holy innocents--whipping children--boy bishops--ceremonies connected therewith--the king of cockney's unlucky day--anecdote thereon--carol for the day. the th december is set apart by the church to commemorate st. john the evangelist. googe, in his translation of naogeorgus, says:-- next _john_ the sonne of _zebedee_ hath his appoynted day, who once by cruell tyraunts will, constrayned was, they say, strong poyson up to drinke, therefore the papistes doe beleeve that whoso puts their trust in him, no poyson them can greeue. the wine beside that hallowed is, in worship of his name, the priestes doe giue the people that bring money for the same. and, after, with the selfe same wine are little manchets made, agaynst the boystrous winter stormes, and sundrie such like trade. the men upon this solemne day do take this holy wine, to make them strong, so do the maydes, to make them faire and fine. in explanation of this i may quote from mrs. jameson's _sacred and legendary art_ (ed. , p. ): "he (st. john) bears in his hand the sacramental cup, from which a serpent is seen to issue. st. isidore relates that at rome an attempt was made to poison st. john in the cup of the sacrament; he drank of the same, and administered it to the communicants without injury, the poison having, by a miracle, issued from the cup in the form of a serpent, while the hired assassin fell down dead at his feet. according to another version of this story the poisoned cup was administered by order of the emperor domitian. according to a third version, aristodemus, the high priest of diana at ephesus, defied him to drink of the poisoned chalice, as a test of the truth of his mission. st. john drank unharmed--the priest fell dead." wright gives two very pretty carols for st. john's day. to almyghty god pray for pees. _amice christi johannes._ o glorius johan evangelyste, best belovyd with jhesu cryst, _in cena domini_ upon hys bryst _ejus vidisti archana._ chosen thou art to cryst jhesu, thy mynd was never cast frome vertu; thi doctryne of god thou dydest renu, _per ejus vestigia._ cryst on the rod, in hys swet passyon, toke the hys moder as to hyr sone; for owr synnes gett grace and pardon, _per tua sancta merita._ o most nobble of evangelystes all, grace to owr maker for us thou call, and off swetenesse celestyall, _prebe nobis pocula._ and aftur the cowrs of mortalite, in heven with aungels for to be, sayyng ozanna to the trinitye. _per seculorum secula._ pray for us, thou prynce of pes. _amici christi, johannes._ to the now, crystys der derlyng, that was a mayd bothe old and yng, myn hert is sett for to syng _amici christi, johannes._ for he was so clene a maye, on crystys brest aslepe he laye, the prevyteys of hevyn ther he saye. _amici christi, johannes._ qwhen cryst beforne pilate was browte, hys clene mayd forsoke hym nowte, to deye with hym was all hys thowte, _amici christi, johannes._ crystys moder was hym betake, won mayd to be anodyris make, to help that we be nott forsake, _amici christi, johannes._ on th december the holy innocents, or the children slain by order of herod, are borne in mind. naogeorgus says of this day:-- then comes the day that calles to minde the cruell _herode's_ strife, who, seeking christ to kill, the king of everlasting life, destroyde the little infants yong, a beast unmercilesse, and put to death all such as were of two yeares age or lesse. to them the sinfull wretchesse crie, and earnestly do pray, to get them pardon for their faultes, and wipe their sinnes away. the parentes, when this day appeares, do beate their children all, (though nothing they deserve), and servaunts all to beating fall, and monkes do whip eche other well, or else their prior great, or abbot mad, doth take in hande their breeches all to beat: in worship of these innocents, or rather, as we see, in honour of the cursed king, that did this crueltee. in the rev. john gregorie's pamphlet, _episcopus puerorum in die innocentium_ ( , p. ), he says: "it hath been a custom, and yet is elsewhere, to whip up the children upon _innocents' day_ morning, that the memory of this murther might stick the closer, and, in a moderate proportion, to act over again the cruelty in kind." by the way, the boy bishop went out of office on innocents' day, and the learned john gregorie aforesaid tells us all about him. "the _episcopus choristarum_ was a chorister bishop chosen by his fellow children upon st. nicholas day.... from this day till _innocents' day_ at night (it lasted longer at the first) the _episcopus puerorum_ was to bear the name and hold up the state of a _bishop_, answerably habited with a _crosier_, or _pastoral staff_, in his hand, and a _mitre_ upon his head; and such an one, too, some had, as was _multis episcoporum mitris sumptuosior_ (saith one), very much richer than those of bishops indeed. "the rest of his fellows from the same time being were to take upon them the style and counterfeit of prebends, yielding to their bishop no less than canonical obedience. "and look what service the very bishop himself with his dean and prebends (had they been to officiate) was to have performed. the very same was done by the chorister bishop and his canons upon the eve and holiday." then follows the full ritual of his office, according to the use of sarum; and it was provided, "that no man whatsoever, under the pain of _anathema_, should interrupt, or press upon these children at the procession spoken of before, or in any part of their _service_ in any ways, but to suffer them quietly to perform and execute what it concerned them to do. "and the part was acted yet more earnestly, for _molanus_ saith that this bishop, in some places, did receive rents, capons, etc., during his year; and it seemeth by the statute of _sarum_, that he held a kind of visitation, and had a full correspondency of all other state and prerogative.... in case the chorister bishop died within the month, his exequies were solemnized with an answerable glorious pomp and sadness. he was buried (as all other bishops) in all his ornaments, as by the monument in stone spoken of before,[ ] it plainly appeareth." [footnote : a stone monument of a boy bishop found in salisbury cathedral.] hone, in his _every-day book_ (vol. i. pp. - ), gives a facsimile of this monument from gregorie's book, and says: "the ceremony of the boy bishop is supposed to have existed, not only in collegiate churches, but in almost every parish in england. he and his companions walked the streets in public procession. a statute of the collegiate church of st. mary overy, in , restrained one of them to the limits of his own parish. on december , , the day after st. nicholas' day, a boy bishop in the chapel at heton, near newcastle-on-tyne, said vespers before edward i. on his way to scotland, who made a considerable present to him, and the other boys who sang with him. in the reign of king edward iii, a boy bishop received a present of nineteen shillings and sixpence for singing before the king in his private chamber on innocents' day. dean colet, in the statutes of st. paul's school, which he founded in , expressly ordains that his scholars should, every childermas day,[ ] 'come to paulis churche, and hear the chylde bishop's sermon; and, after, be at hygh masse, and each of them offer a penny to the chylde-bishop; and with them, the maisters and surveyors of the scole.'" [footnote : the anglo-saxons called innocents' day childe-mass or childer-mass.] by a proclamation of henry viii., dated nd july , the show of the boy bishop was abrogated, but in the reign of mary it was revived with other romish ceremonials. a flattering song was sung before that queen by a boy bishop, and printed. it was a panegyric on her devotion, and compared her to judith, esther, the queen of sheba, and the virgin mary. the accounts of st. mary at hill, london, in the th henry vi., and for and , contain charges for boy bishops for those years. at that period his estimation in the church seems to have been undiminished; for on th november the bishop of london issued an order to all the clergy of his diocese to have boy bishops and their processions; and in the same year these young sons of the old church paraded st. andrew's, holborn, and st. nicholas, olaves, in bread street, and other parishes. in strype says that "the boy bishops again went abroad, singing in the old fashion, and were received by many ignorant but well-disposed persons into their houses, and had much good cheer." speaking of the christmas festivities at lincoln's inn, dugdale[ ] says: "moreover, that the _king of cockneys_, on _childermass_ day, should sit and have due service; and that he and all his officers should use honest manner and good order, without any wast or destruction making, in wine, brawn, chely, or other vitaills." [footnote : _orig. jur._, p. .] in chambers's _book of days_ we find that, "in consequence probably of the feeling of horror attached to such an act of atrocity, innocents' day used to be reckoned about the most unlucky throughout the year, and in former times no one who could possibly avoid it began any work, or entered on any undertaking on this anniversary. to marry on childermas day was specially inauspicious. it is said of the equally superstitious and unprincipled monarch, louis xv., that he would never perform any business or enter into any discussion about his affairs on this day, and to make to him then any proposal of the kind was certain to exasperate him to the utmost. we are informed, too, that in england, on the occasion of the coronation of king edward iv., that solemnity, which had been originally intended to take place on a sunday, was postponed till the monday, owing to the former day being, in that year, the festival of childermas. the idea of the inauspicious nature of the day was long prevalent, and is even not yet wholly extinct. to the present hour, we understand, the housewives in cornwall, and probably also in other parts of the country, refrain scrupulously from scouring or scrubbing on innocents' day." at the churches in several parts of the country muffled peals are rung on this day, and with the irish it is called "la crosta na bliana," or "the cross day of the year," and also, "diar daoin darg," or "bloody thursday," and on that day the irish housewife will not warp thread, nor permit it to be warped; and the irish say that anything begun upon that day must have an unlucky ending. a writer in _notes and queries_ ( ser. xii. ) says: "the following legend regarding the day is current in the county of clare. between the parishes of quin and tulla, in that county, is a lake called turlough. in the lake is a little island; and among a heap of loose stones in the middle of the island rises a white thorn bush, which is called 'scagh an earla' (the earl's bush). a suit of clothes made for a child on the 'cross day' was put on the child; the child died. the clothes were put on a second and on a third child; they also died. the parents of the children at length put out the clothes on the 'scag an earla,' and when the waters fell the clothes were found to be full of dead eels." here is a good carol for innocents' day, published in the middle of the sixteenth century:-- a carol of the innocents. mark this song, for it is true, for it is true, as clerks tell: in old time strange things came to pass, great wonder and great marvel was in israel. there was one, octavian, octavian of rome emperor, as books old doth specify, of all the wide world truly he was lord and governor. the jews, that time, lack'd a king, they lack'd a king to guide them well, the emperor of power and might, chose one herod against all right, in israel. this herod, then, was king of jews was king of jews, and he no jew, forsooth he was a paynim born, wherefore on faith it may be sworn he reigned king untrue. by prophecy, one isai, one isai, at least, did tell a child should come, wondrous news, that should be born true king of jews in israel. this herod knew one born should be, one born should be of true lineage, that should be right heritor; for he but by the emperor was made by usurpage. wherefore of thought this king herod, this king herod in great fear fell, for all the days most in his mirth, ever he feared christ his birth in israel. the time came it pleased god, it pleased god so to come to pass, for man's soul indeed his blessed son was born with speed, as his will was. tidings came to king herod, to king herod, and did him tell, that one born forsooth is he, which lord and king of all shall be in israel. herod then raged, as he were wode (mad), as he were wode of this tyding, and sent for all his scribes sure, yet would he not trust the scripture, nor of their counselling. this, then, was the conclusion, the conclusion of his counsel, to send unto his knights anon to slay the children every one in israel. this cruel king this tyranny, this tyranny did put in ure (practice), between a day and years two, all men-children he did slew, of christ for to be sure. yet herod missed his cruel prey, his cruel prey, as was god's will; joseph with mary then did flee with christ to egypt, gone was she from israel. all the while these tyrants, these tyrants would not convert, but innocents young that lay sucking, they thrust to the heart. this herod sought the children young, the children young, with courage fell. but in doing this vengeance his own son was slain by chance in israel. alas! i think the mothers were woe, the mothers were woe, it was great skill, what motherly pain to see them slain, in cradles lying still! but god himself hath them elect, hath them elect in heaven to dwell, for they were bathed in their blood, for their baptism forsooth it stood in israel. alas! again, what hearts had they, what hearts had they those babes to kill, with swords when they them caught, in cradles they lay and laughed, and never thought ill. chapter xxviii new year's eve--wassail--new year's eve customs--hogmany--the cl[=a]vie--other customs--weather prophecy. new year's eve is variously kept--by some in harmless mirth, by others in religious exercises. many churches in england have late services, which close at midnight with a carol or appropriate hymn, and this custom is especially held by the wesleyan methodists in their "watch night," when they pray, etc., till about five minutes to twelve, when there is a dead silence, supposed to be spent in introspection, which lasts until the clock strikes, and then they burst forth with a hymn of praise and joy. the wassail bowl used to hold as high a position as at christmas eve, and in lyson's time it was customary in gloucestershire for a merry party to go from house to house carrying a large bowl, decked with garlands and ribbons, singing the following wassail song:-- wassail! wassail! all over the town, our toast it is white, our ale it is brown, our bowl it is made of a maplin tree; we be good fellows all, i drink to thee. here's to our horse, and to his right ear, god send our maister a happy new year; a happy new year as e'er he did see-- with my wassailing bowl i drink to thee. here's to our mare, and to her right eye, god send our mistress a good christmas pye: a good christmas pye as e'er i did see-- with my wassailing bowl i drink to thee. here's to fill-pail (cow) and to her long tail, god send our measter us never may fail of a cup of good beer, i pray you draw near, and our jolly wassail it's then you shall hear. be here any maids? i suppose there be some, sure they will not let young men stand on the cold stone sing hey, o maids, come trole back the pin, and the fairest maid in the house let us all in. come, butler, come bring us a bowl of the best: i hope your soul in heaven will rest: but, if you do bring us a bowl of the small, then down fall butler, bowl, and all. until recently, a similar custom obtained in nottinghamshire; but, in that case, the young women of the village, dressed in their best, carried round a decorated bowl filled with ale, roasted apples, and toast, seasoned with nutmeg and sugar, the regulation wassail compound. this they offered to the inmates of the house they called at, whilst they sang the following, amongst other verses:-- good master, at your door, our wassail we begin; we are all maidens poor, so we pray you let us in, and drink our wassail. all hail, wassail! wassail! wassail! and drink our wassail. in derbyshire, on this night, a cold posset used to be prepared, made of milk, ale, eggs, currants, and spices, and in it is placed the hostess's wedding ring. each of the party takes out a ladleful, and in so doing tries to fish out the ring, believing that whoever shall be fortunate enough to get it will be married before the year is out. it was also customary in some districts to throw open all the doors of the house just before midnight, and, waiting for the advent of the new year, to greet him as he approaches with cries of "welcome!" at muncaster, in cumberland, on this night the children used to go from house to house singing a song, in which they crave the bounty "they were wont to have in old king edward's time"; but what that was is not known. it was a custom at merton college, oxford, according to pointer (_oxoniensis academia_, ed. , p. ), on the last night in the year, called scrutiny night, for the college servants, all in a body, to make their appearance in the hall, before the warden and fellows (after supper), and there to deliver up their keys, so that if they have committed any great crime during the year their keys are taken away, and they consequently lose their places, or they have them delivered to them afresh. on this night a curious custom obtained at bradford, in yorkshire, where a party of men and women, with blackened faces, and fantastically attired, used to enter houses with besoms, and "sweep out the old year." although christmas is kept in scotland, there is more festivity at the new year, and perhaps one of the most singular customs is that which was told by a gentleman to dr. johnson during his tour in the hebrides. on new year's eve, in the hall or castle of the laird, where at festal seasons there may be supposed to be a very numerous company, one man dresses himself in a cow's hide, upon which the others beat with sticks. he runs, with all this noise, round the house, which all the company quit in a counterfeited fright, and the door is then shut. on new year's eve there is no great pleasure to be had out of doors in the hebrides. they are sure soon to recover sufficiently from their terror to solicit for readmission, which is not to be obtained but by repeating a verse, with which those who are knowing and provident are provided. in the orkney islands it was formerly the custom for bands of people to assemble and pay a round of visits, singing a song which began-- this night it is guid new'r e'en's night, we're a' here queen mary's men: and we're come here to crave our right, and that's before our lady! in the county of fife this night was called "singen e'en," probably from the custom of singing carols then. this day is popularly known in scotland as _hogmany_, and the following is a fragment of a yorkshire _hagmena_ song:-- to-night it is the new year's night, to-morrow is the day, and we are come for our right and for our ray, as we used to do in old king henry's day: sing, fellows! sing, hagman-ha! if you go to the bacon flick, cut me a good bit; cut, cut and low, beware of your maw. cut, cut and round, beware of your thumb, that me and my merry men may have some: sing, fellows! sing, hag-man-ha! if you go to the black ark (chest), bring me ten marks; ten marks, ten pound, throw it down upon the ground, that me and my merry men may have some: sing, fellows! sing, hog-man-ha! the meaning of this word "hogmany" is not clear, and has been a source of dispute among scottish antiquaries; but two suggestions of its derivation are probable. one is that it comes from _au qui menez_ (to the mistleto go), which mummers formerly cried in france at christmas; and the other is that it is derived from _au gueux menez_, _i.e._ bring the beggars--which would be suitable for charitable purposes at such a time. in some remote parts of scotland the poor children robe themselves in a sheet, which is so arranged as to make a large pocket in front, and going about in little bands, they call at houses for their hogmany, which is given them in the shape of some oat cake, and sometimes cheese, the cakes being prepared some days beforehand, in order to meet the demand. on arriving at a house they cry "hogmany," or sing some rough verse, like-- hogmanay, trollolay, give us of your white bread, and none of your grey! in _notes and queries_ ( ser. ix. ) a singular scotch custom is detailed. speaking of the village of burghead, on the southern shore of the moray frith, the writer says: "on the evening of the last day of december (old style) the youth of the village assemble about dusk, and make the necessary preparations for the celebration of the 'cl[=a]vie.' proceeding to some shop, they demand a strong empty barrel, which is usually gifted at once; but if refused, taken by force. another for breaking up, and a quantity of tar are likewise procured at the same time. thus furnished, they repair to a particular spot close to the sea shore, and commence operations. "a hole, about four inches in diameter, is first made in the bottom of the stronger barrel, into which the end of a stout pole, five feet in length, is firmly fixed; to strengthen their hold, a number of supports are nailed round the outside of the former, and also closely round the latter. the tar is then put into the barrel, and set on fire; and the remaining one being broken up, stave after stave is thrown in, until it is quite full. the 'cl[=a]vie,' already burning fiercely, is now shouldered by some strong young man, and borne away at a rapid pace. as soon as the bearer gives signs of exhaustion, another willingly takes his place; and should any of those who are honoured to carry the blazing load meet with an accident, as sometimes happens, the misfortune excites no pity, even among his near relatives. "in making the circuit of the village they are said to confine themselves to their old boundaries. formerly the procession visited all the fishing boats, but this has been discontinued for some time. having gone over the appointed ground, the 'cl[=a]vie' is finally carried to a small artificial eminence near the point of the promontory, and, interesting as being a portion of the ancient fortifications, spared, probably on account of its being used for this purpose, where a circular heap of stones used to be hastily piled up, in the hollow centre of which the 'cl[=a]vie' was placed, still burning. on this eminence, which is termed the 'durie,' the present proprietor has recently erected a small round column, with a cavity in the centre, for admitting the free end of the pole, and into this it is now placed. after being allowed to burn on the 'durie' for a few minutes, the 'cl[=a]vie' is most unceremoniously hurled from its place, and the smoking embers scattered among the assembled crowd, by whom, in less enlightened times, they were eagerly caught at, and fragments of them carried home, and carefully preserved as charms against witchcraft." some discussion took place on the origin of this custom, but nothing satisfactory was eliminated. another correspondent to the same periodical ( ser. ix. ) says: "a practice, which may be worth noting, came under my observation at the town of biggar (in the upper ward of lanarkshire) on st december last. it has been customary there, from time immemorial, among the inhabitants to celebrate what is called 'burning out the old year.' for this purpose, during the day of the st, a large quantity of fuel is collected, consisting of branches of trees, brushwood, and coals, and placed in a heap at the 'cross'; and about nine o'clock at night the lighting of the fire is commenced, surrounded by a crowd of onlookers, who each thinks it a duty to cast into the flaming mass some additional portion of material, the whole becoming sufficient to maintain the fire till next, or new year's morning is far advanced. fires are also kindled on the adjacent hills to add to the importance of the occasion." in ireland, according to croker (_researches in the south of ireland_, p. ), on the last night of the year a cake is thrown against the outside door of each house, by the head of the family, which ceremony is said to keep out hunger during the ensuing year:-- if new year's eve night wind blow south, it betokeneth warmth and growth; if west, much milk, and fish in the sea; if north, much cold and storms there will be; if east, the trees will bear much fruit; if north-east, flee it, man and brute. chapter xxix new year's day--carol--new year's gifts--"dipping"--riding the "stang"--curious tenures--god cakes--the "quaaltagh"--"first-foot" in scotland--highland customs--in ireland--weather prophecies--handsel monday. there is a peculiar feeling of satisfaction that comes over us with the advent of the new year. the old year, with its joys and sorrows, its gains and disappointments, is irrevocably dead--dead without hope of resurrection, and there is not one of us who does not hope that the forthcoming year may be a happier one than that departed. the following very pretty "carol for new year's day" is taken from _psalmes, songs, and sonnets_, composed by william byrd, lond. :-- o god, that guides the cheerful sun by motions strange the year to frame, which now, returned whence it begun, from heaven extols thy glorious name; this new year's season sanctify with double blessings of thy store, that graces new may multiply, and former follies reign no more. so shall our hearts with heaven agree, and both give laud and praise to thee. amen. th' old year, by course, is past and gone, old adam, lord, from us expel; new creatures make us every one, new life becomes the new year well. as new-born babes from malice keep, new wedding garments, christ, we crave; that we thy face in heaven may see, with angels bright, our souls to save. so shall our hearts with heaven agree, and both give laud and praise to thee. amen. the church takes no notice of the first of january as the beginning of a new year, but only as the feast of the circumcision of our lord, and consequently, being included in the twelve days of christ-tide festivity, it was only regarded as one of them, and no particular stress was placed upon it. there were, and are, local customs peculiar to the day, but, with the exception of some special festivity, general good wishes for health and prosperity, and the giving of presents, there is no extraordinary recognition of the day. naogeorgus says of it:-- the next to this is new yeares day, whereon to every frende, they costly presents in do bring, and newe yeares giftes do sende. these giftes the husband gives his wife, and father eke the childe, and maister on his men bestowes the like, with favour milde. and good beginning of the yeare, they wishe and wishe againe, according to the auncient guise of heathen people vaine. these eight dayes no man doth require his dettes of any man, their tables do they furnish out with all the meate they can: with marchpaynes, tartes, and custards great, they drink with staring eyes, they rowte and revell, feede and feast, as merry all as pyes: as if they should at th' entrance of this newe yeare hap to die, yet would they have theyr bellyes full, and auncient friendes allie. the custom of mutual gifts on this day still obtains in england, but is in great force in france. here it was general among all classes, and many are the notices of presents to royalty, but nowadays a present at christmas has very greatly superseded the old custom. we owe the term "pin-money" to the gift of pins at this season. they were expensive articles, and occasionally money was given as a commutation. gloves were, as they are now, always an acceptable present, but to those who were not overburdened with this world's goods an orange stuck with cloves was deemed sufficient for a new year's gift. among the many superstitious customs which used to obtain in england was a kind of "sortes virgilianæ," or divination, as to the coming year. only the bible was the medium, and the operation was termed "dipping." the ceremony usually took place before breakfast, as it was absolutely necessary that the rite should be performed fasting. the bible was laid upon a table, and opened haphazard, a finger being placed, without premeditation, upon a verse, and the future for the coming year was dependent upon the sense of the verse pitched upon. a correspondent in _notes and queries_ ( ser. xii. ) writes: "about eight years ago i was staying in a little village in oxfordshire on the first day of the year, and happening to pass by a cottage where an old woman lived whom i knew well, i stepped in, and wished her 'a happy new year.' instead of replying to my salutation, she stared wildly at me, and exclaimed in a horrified tone, 'new year's day! and i have never dipped.' not having the slightest idea of her meaning, i asked for an explanation, and gathered from her that it was customary to _dip_ into the bible before twelve o'clock on new year's day, and the first verse that met the eye indicated the good or bad fortune of the inquirer through the ensuing year. my old friend added: 'last year i dipped, and i opened on job, and sure enough, i have had nought but trouble ever since.' her consternation on receiving my good wishes was in consequence of her having let the opportunity of dipping go by for that year, it being past twelve o'clock." another singular custom which used to obtain in cumberland and westmoreland is noted in a letter in the _gentleman's magazine_ for , vol. lxi., part ii. p. : "early in the morning of the first of january the _fæx populi_ assemble together, carrying _stangs_[ ] and baskets. any inhabitant, stranger, or whoever joins not this ruffian tribe in sacrificing to their favourite saint day, if unfortunate enough to be met by any of the band, is immediately mounted across the stang (if a woman, she is basketed), and carried, shoulder height, to the nearest public-house, where the payment of sixpence immediately liberates the prisoner. no respect is paid to any person; the cobler on that day thinks himself equal to the parson, who generally gets mounted like the rest of his flock; whilst one of his porters _boasts and prides himself_ in having, but just before, got the _squire_ across the pole. none, though ever so industriously inclined, are permitted to follow their respective avocations on that day." [footnote : poles. to ride the stang was a popular punishment for husbands who behaved cruelly to their wives.] blount, in his _tenures of land_, etc., gives a very curious tenure by which the manor of essington, staffordshire, was held; the lord of which manor (either by himself, deputy, or steward) oweth, and is obliged yearly to perform, service to the lord of the manor of hilton, a village about a mile distant from this manor. the lord of essington is to bring a goose every new year's day, and drive it round the fire, at least three times, whilst jack of hilton is blowing the fire. this jack of hilton is an image of brass, of about twelve inches high, having a little hole at the mouth, at which, being filled with water, and set to a strong fire, which makes it evaporate like an _æolipole_, it vents itself in a constant blast, so strongly that it is very audible, and blows the fire fiercely. when the lord of essington has done his duty, and the other things are performed, he carries his goose into the kitchen of hilton hall, and delivers it to the cook, who, having dressed it, the lord of essington, or his deputy, by way of farther service, is to carry it to the table of the lord paramount of hilton and essington, and receives a dish from the lord of hilton's table for his own mess, and so departs. he also gives a curious tenure at hutton conyers, yorkshire: "near this town, which lies a few miles from ripon, there is a large common, called hutton conyers moor.... the occupiers of messuages and cottages within the several towns of hutton conyers, melmerby, baldersby, rainton, dishforth, and hewick have right of estray for their sheep to certain limited boundaries on the common, and each township has a shepherd. "the lord's shepherd has a pre-eminence of tending his sheep on any part of the common, and, wherever he herds the lord's sheep, the several other shepherds have to give way to him, and give up their hoofing place, so long as he pleases to depasture the lord's sheep thereon. the lord holds his court the first day in the year, and, to entitle those several townships to such right of estray, the shepherd of each township attends the court, and does fealty by bringing to the court a large apple-pie and a twopenny sweet cake, except the shepherd of hewick, who compounds by paying sixteenpence for ale (which is drunk as aftermentioned) and a wooden spoon; each pie is cut in two, and divided by the bailiff, one half between the steward, bailiff, and the tenant of a coney warren, and the other half into six parts, and divided amongst the six shepherds of the beforementioned six townships. in the pie brought by the shepherd of rainton, an inner one is made, filled with prunes. the cakes are divided in the same manner. the bailiff of the manor provides furmety and mustard, and delivers to each shepherd a slice of cheese and a penny roll. the furmety, well mixed with mustard, is put into an earthen pot, and placed in a hole in the ground in a garth belonging to the bailiff's house, to which place the steward of the court, with the bailiff, tenant of the warren, and six shepherds adjourn, with their respective wooden spoons. the bailiff provides spoons for the steward, the tenant of the warren, and himself. the steward first pays respect to the furmety by taking a large spoonful; the bailiff has the next honour, the tenant of the warren next, then the shepherd of hutton conyers, and afterwards the other shepherds by regular turns; then each person is served with a glass of ale (paid for by the sixteenpence brought by the hewick shepherd), and the health of the lord of the manor is drunk; then they adjourn back to the bailiff's house, and the further business of the court is proceeded with." the question was asked (_notes and queries_, ser. ii. ), but never answered, whether any reader could give information respecting the ancient custom in the city of coventry of sending god cakes on the first day of the year? "they are used by all classes, and vary in price from a halfpenny to one pound. they are invariably made in a triangular shape, an inch thick, and filled with a kind of mince meat. i believe the custom is peculiar to that city, and should be glad to know more about its origin. so general is the use of them on january st, that the cheaper sorts are hawked about the streets, as hot cross buns are on good friday in london." in nottinghamshire it is considered unlucky to take anything out of a house on new year's day before something has been brought in; consequently, as early as possible in the morning, each member of the family brings in some trifle. near newark this rhyme is sung:-- take out, and take in, bad luck is sure to begin; but take in and take out, good luck will come about. train, in his _history of the isle of man_ (ed. , vol. ii. ), says that on st january an old custom is observed, called the _quaaltagh_. in almost every parish throughout the island a party of young men go from house to house singing the following rhyme:-- again we assemble, a merry new year to wish to each one of the family here, whether man, woman, or girl, or boy, that long life and happiness all may enjoy; may they of potatoes and herrings have plenty, with butter and cheese, and each other dainty; and may their sleep never, by night or day, disturbed be by even the tooth of a flea: until at the quaaltagh again we appear, to wish you, as now, all a happy new year. when these lines are repeated at the door, the whole party are invited into the house to partake of the best the family can afford. on these occasions a person of dark complexion always enters first, as a light-haired male or female is deemed unlucky to be the first-foot, or _quaaltagh_, on new year's morning. the actors of the _quaaltagh_ do not assume fantastic habiliments like the mummers of england, or the guisards of scotland; nor do they, like these rude performers of the ancient mysteries, appear ever to have been attended by minstrels playing on different kinds of musical instruments. the custom of _first-footing_ is still in vogue in many parts of scotland, although a very good authority, _chambers's book of days_ (vol. i. p. ), says it is dying out:-- "till very few years ago in scotland the custom of the wassail bowl, at the passing away of the old year, might be said to be still in comparative vigour. on the approach of twelve o'clock a _hot pint_ was prepared--that is, a kettle or flagon full of warm, spiced, and sweetened ale, with an infusion of spirits. when the clock had struck the knell of the departed year, each member of the family drank of this mixture, 'a good health and a happy new year, and many of them!' to all the rest, with a general hand-shaking, and perhaps a dance round the table, with the addition of a song to the tune of _hey tuttie taitie_-- "weel may we a' be, ill may we never see, here's to the king and the gude companie! etc. "the elders of the family would then most probably sally out, with the hot kettle, and bearing also a competent provision of buns and short cakes, or bread and cheese, with the design of visiting their neighbours, and interchanging with them the same cordial greetings. if they met by the way another party similarly bent whom they knew, they would stop, and give and take sips from their respective kettles. reaching the friends' house, they would enter with vociferous good wishes, and soon send the kettle a-circulating. if they were the first to enter the house since twelve o'clock, they were deemed the _first-foot_; and, as such, it was most important, for luck to the family in the coming year, that they should make their entry, not empty-handed, but with their hands full of cakes, and bread and cheese; of which, on the other hand, civility demanded that each individual in the house should partake. "to such an extent did this custom prevail in edinburgh, in the recollection of persons still living, that, according to their account, the principal streets were more thronged between twelve and one in the morning than they usually were at mid-day. much innocent mirth prevailed, and mutual good feelings were largely promoted. an unlucky circumstance, which took place on the st january of , proved the means of nearly extinguishing the custom. a small party of reckless boys formed the design of turning the innocent festivities of _first-footing_ to account, for the purposes of plunder. they kept their counsel well. no sooner had the people come abroad on the principal thoroughfares of the old town, than these youths sallied out in small bands, and commenced the business which they had undertaken. their previous agreement was--to _look out for the white neckcloths_, such being the best mark by which they could distinguish, in the dark, individuals likely to carry any property worthy of being taken. a great number of gentlemen were thus spoiled of their watches and other valuables. the least resistance was resented by the most brutal maltreatment. a policeman and a young man of the rank of a clerk in leith died of the injuries they had received. an affair so singular, so uncharacteristic of the people among whom it happened, produced a widespread and lasting feeling of surprise. the outrage was expiated by the execution of three of the youthful rioters on the chief scene of their wickedness; but from that time it was observed that the old custom of going about with the _hot pint_--the ancient wassail--fell off. * * * * * "there was, in scotland, a _first-footing_ independent of the _hot pint_. it was a time for some youthful friend of the family to steal to the door, in the hope of meeting there the young maiden of his fancy, and obtaining the privilege of a kiss, as her _first-foot_. great was the disappointment on his part, and great the joking among the family, if, through accident or plan, some half-withered aunt or ancient grand-dame came to receive him instead of the blooming jenny." in sir t.d. hardy's _memoirs of lord langdale_ ( , vol. i., p. ) is the following extract from a letter dated st january . "being in scotland, i ought to tell you of scotch customs; and really they have a charming one on this occasion (_i.e._ new year's day). whether it is meant as a farewell ceremony to the old one, or an introduction to the new year, i can't tell; but on the st of december almost everybody has a party, either to dine or sup. the company, almost entirely consisting of young people, wait together till twelve o'clock strikes, at which time every one begins to move, and they all fall to work. at what? why, kissing. each male is successively locked in pure platonic embrace with each female; and after this grand ceremony, which, of course, creates infinite fun, they separate and go home. this matter is not at all confined to these, but wherever man meets woman it is the peculiar privilege of this hour. the common people think it necessary to drink what they call _hot pint_, which consists of strong beer, whisky, eggs, etc., a most horrid composition, as bad or worse than that infamous mixture called _fig-one_,[ ] which the english people drink on good friday." [footnote : or _fig-sue_, which is a mixture of ale, sliced figs, bread, and nutmeg, all boiled together, and eaten hot. this mess is made in north lancashire, and partaken of on good friday, probably by way of mortifying the flesh.] pennant tells us, in his _tour in scotland_, that on new year's day the highlanders burned juniper before their cattle; and stewart, in _popular superstitions of the highlanders of scotland_, says, as soon as the last night of the year sets in, it is the signal with the strathdown highlander for the suspension of his usual employment, and he directs his attention to more agreeable callings. the men form into bands, with tethers and axes, and, shaping their course to the juniper bushes, they return home with mighty loads, which are arranged round the fire to dry until morning. a certain discreet person is despatched to the _dead and living ford_, to draw a pitcher of water in profound silence, without the vessel touching the ground, lest its virtue should be destroyed, and on his return all retire to rest. early on new year's morning, the _usque-cashrichd_, or water from the _dead and living ford_, is drunk, as a potent charm until next new year's day, against the spells of witchcraft, the malignity of evil eyes, and the activity of all infernal agency. the qualified highlander then takes a large brush, with which he profusely asperses the occupants of all beds, from whom it is not unusual for him to receive ungrateful remonstrances against ablution. this ended, and the doors and windows being thoroughly closed, and all crevices stopped, he kindles piles of the collected juniper in the different apartments, till the vapour collected from the burning branches condenses into opaque clouds, and coughing, sneezing, wheezing, gasping, and other demonstrations of suffocation ensue. the operator, aware that the more intense the _smuchdan_, the more propitious the solemnity, disregards these indications, and continues, with streaming eyes and averted head, to increase the fumigation, until, in his own defence, he admits the air to recover the exhausted household and himself. he then treats the horses, cattle, and other bestial stock in the town with the same smothering, to keep them from harm throughout the year. when the gudewife gets up, and having ceased from coughing, has gained sufficient strength to reach the bottle _dhu_, she administers its comfort to the relief of the sufferers; laughter takes the place of complaint, all the family get up, wash their faces, and receive the visits of their neighbours, who arrive full of congratulations peculiar to the day. _mu nase choil orst_, "my candlemas bond upon you," is the customary salutation, and means, in plain words, "you owe me a new year's gift." a point of great emulation is, who shall salute the other first, because the one who does so is entitled to a gift from the person saluted. breakfast, consisting of all procurable luxuries, is then served, the neighbours not engaged are invited to partake, and the day ends in festivity. of new year's customs in ireland a correspondent in _notes and queries_ ( ser. iii. ), writes: "on new year's day i observed boys running about the suburbs at the county down side of belfast, carrying little twisted wisps of straw, which they offer to persons whom they meet, or throw into houses as new year offerings, and expect in return to get any small present, such as a little money, or a piece of bread. "about glenarm, on the coast of county antrim, the 'wisp' is not used; but on this day the boys go about from house to house, and are regaled with 'bannocks' of oaten bread, buttered; these bannocks are baked specially for the occasion, and are commonly small, thick, and round, and with a hole through the centre. any person who enters a house at glenarm on this day must either eat or drink before leaving it." it is only natural that auguries for the weather of the year should be drawn from that on which new year's day falls, and not only so, but, as at christmas, the weather for the ensuing year was materially influenced, according to the day in the week on which this commencement of another year happened to fall. it is, however, satisfactory to have persons able to tell us all about it, and thus saith digges, in his _prognosticacion everlasting, of ryghte goode effect_, lond., , to. "it is affirmed by some, when new yeare's day falleth on the sunday, then a pleasant winter doth ensue: a naturall summer: fruite sufficient: harvest indifferent, yet some winde and raine: many marriages: plentie of wine and honey; death of young men and cattell: robberies in most places: newes of prelates, of kinges; and cruell warres in the end. "on monday, a winter somewhat uncomfortable; summer temperate: no plentie of fruite: many fansies and fables opened: agues shall reigne: kings and many others shall dye: marriages shall be in most places: and a common fall of gentlemen. "on tuesday, a stormie winter: a wet summer: a divers harvest: corne and fruite indifferent, yet hearbes in gardens shall not flourish: great sicknesse of men, women, and yong children. beasts shall hunger, starve, and dye of the botch; many shippes, gallies, and hulkes shall be lost; and the bloodie flixes shall kill many men; all things deare, save corne. "on wednesday, lo, a warme winter; in the end, snowe and frost: a cloudie summer, plentie of fruite, corne, hay, wine, and honey: great paine to women with childe, and death to infants: good for sheepe: news of kinges: great warres: battell, and slaughter towards the middell. "on thursday, winter and summer windie; a rainie harveste: therefore wee shall have overflowings: much fruite: plentie of honey: yet flesh shall be deare: cattell in general shall dye: great trouble; warres, etc.: with a licencious life of the feminine sexe. "on friday, winter stormie: summer scant and pleasant: harvest indifferent: little store of fruite, of wine and honey: corne deare: many bleare eyes: youth shall dye: earthquakes are perceived in many places: plentie of thunders, lightnings and tempestes: with a sudden death of cattell. "on saturday, a mean winter: summer very hot: a late harvest: good cheape garden hearbs: much burning: plentie of hempe, flax and honey. old folke shall dye in most places: fevers and tercians shall grieve many people: great muttering of warres: murthers shall be suddenly committed in many places for light matters." in scotland the first monday is kept as a great holiday among servants and children, to whom _handsel monday_, as it is called, is analogous to _boxing day_ in england, when all expect some little present in token of affection, or in recognition of services rendered during the past year. in the rural districts _auld handsel monday_--that is, the first monday after the twelfth of the month--is kept in preference. it is also a day for hiring servants for another year, and at farm-houses, after a good substantial breakfast, the remainder of the day is spent as a holiday. chapter xxx eve of twelfth day--thirteen fires--tossing the cake--wassailing apple-trees--the eve in ireland--twelfth day, or epiphany--carol for the day--royal offerings. the th of january is the eve of the epiphany, and the vigil of twelfth day, which used to be celebrated by the liberal use of the customary wassail bowl. in the _gentleman's magazine_ for , p. , we get a good account of the customs in herefordshire on that night. "on the eve of twelfth day, at the approach of evening, the farmers, their friends, servants, etc., all assemble; and near six o'clock, all walk together to a field where wheat is growing. the highest part of the ground is always chosen, where twelve small fires and one large one are lighted up. the attendants, headed by the master of the family, pledge the company in old cider, which circulates freely on these occasions. a circle is formed round the large fire, when a general shout and hallooing takes place, which you hear answered from all the villages and fields near, as i have myself counted fifty or sixty fires burning at the same time, which are generally placed on some eminence. this being finished, the company all return to the house, where the good housewife and her maids are preparing a good supper, which on this occasion is very plentiful. "a large cake is always provided, with a hole in the middle. after supper, the company all attend the bailiff (or head of the oxen) to the wain house, where the following particulars are observed: the master, at the head of his friends, fills the cup (generally of strong ale), and stands opposite the first or finest of the oxen (twenty-four of which i have often seen tied up in their stalls together); he then pledges him in a curious toast; the company then follow his example with all the other oxen, addressing each by their name. this being over, the large cake is produced, and is with much ceremony put on the horn of the first ox, through the hole in the cake; he is then tickled to make him toss his head: if he throws the cake behind, it is the mistress's perquisite; if before (in what is termed the _boosy_), the bailiff claims the prize. this ended, the company all return to the house, the doors of which are in the meantime locked, and not opened till some joyous songs are sung. on entering, a scene of mirth and jollity commences, and reigns through the house till a late hour the next morning. cards are introduced, and the merry tale goes round. i have often enjoyed the hospitality, friendship, and harmony i have been witness to on these occasions." on p. of the same volume another correspondent writes as to the custom on twelfth day eve in devonshire. "on the eve of the epiphany the farmer, attended by his workmen, with a large pitcher of cyder, goes to the orchard, and there, encircling one of the best-bearing trees, they drink the following toast three several times:-- "here's to thee, old apple tree, whence thou may'st bud, and whence thou may'st blow! and whence thou may'st bear apples enow! hats full!--caps full! bushel,--bushel,--sacks full! and my pockets full, too! huzza! "this done, they return to the house, the doors of which they are sure to find bolted by the females, who, be the weather what it may, are inexorable to all entreaties to open them, till some one has guessed at what is on the spit, which is generally some nice little thing difficult to be hit on, and is the reward of him who first names it. the doors are then thrown open, and the lucky clodpole receives the tit-bit as his recompence. some are so superstitious as to believe that, if they neglect this custom, the trees will bear no apples that year." referring to these customs, cuthbert bede remarks (_notes and queries_, ser. viii. ): "a farmer's wife told me that where she had lived in herefordshire, twenty years ago, they were wont, on twelfth night eve, to light in a wheat field twelve small fires, and one large one.... she told me that they were designed to represent the blessed saviour and his twelve apostles. the fire representing judas iscariot, after being allowed to burn for a brief time, was kicked about, and put out.... the same person also told me that the ceremony of placing the twelfth cake on the horn of the ox was observed in all the particulars.... it was twenty years since she had left the farm, and she had forgotten all the words of the toast used on that occasion: she could only remember one verse out of three or four:-- "fill your cups, my merry men all! for here's the best ox in the stall; oh! he's the best ox, of that there's no mistake, and so let us crown him with the twelfth cake." _the derby and chesterfield reporter_ of th january gives the following notice of the herefordshire customs: "on the eve of old christmas day there are thirteen fires lighted in the cornfields of many of the farms, twelve of them in a circle, and one round a pole, much longer and higher than the rest, in the centre. these fires are dignified by the names of the virgin mary and the twelve apostles, the lady being in the middle; and while they are burning, the labourers retire into some shed or out-house, where they can behold the brightness of the apostolic flame. into this shed they lead a cow, on whose horn a large plum cake has been stuck, and having assembled round the animal, the oldest labourer takes a pail of cider, and addresses the following lines to the cow with great solemnity; after which the verse is chaunted in chorus by all present:-- "here's to thy pretty face and thy white horn, god send thy master a good crop of corn, both wheat, rye, and barley, and all sorts of grain, and, next year, if we live, we'll drink to thee again. "he then dashes the cider in the cow's face, when, by a violent toss of her head, she throws the plum cake on the ground; and if it falls forward, it is an omen that the next harvest will be good; if backward, that it will be unfavourable. this is the ceremony at the commencement of the rural feast, which is generally prolonged to the following morning." in ireland,[ ] "on twelve eve in christmas, they use to set up, as high as they can, a sieve of oats, and in it a dozen of candles set round, and in the centre one larger, all lighted. this is in memory of our saviour and his apostles--lights of the world." [footnote : vallancey's _collectanea de rebus hibernicis_, vol. i. no. . p. .] the th of january, or twelfth day after christmas, is a festival of the church, called _the epiphany_ (from a greek word signifying "appearance"), or manifestation of christ to the gentiles; and it arises from the adoration of the wise men, or _magi_, commonly known as "the three kings," _gaspar_, _melchior_, and _balthazar_, who were led by the miraculous star to bethlehem, and there offered to the infant christ gold, frankincense, and myrrh. the following carol is in the harl. mss. british museum, and is of the time of henry vii.:-- now is christmas i-come, father and son together in one, holy ghost as ye be one, in fere-a; god send us a good new year-a. i would now sing, for and i might, of a child is fair to sight; his mother bare him this enders[ ] night, so still-a; and as it was his will-a. there came three kings from galilee to bethlehem, that fair citie, to see him that should ever be by right-a, lord, and king, and knight-a. as they came forth with their offering, they met with herod, that moody king, he asked them of their coming this tide-a; and thus to them he said-a: "of whence be ye, you kings three?" "of the east, as you may see, to seek him that should ever be by right-a, lord, and king, and knight-a." "when you to this child have been, come you home this way again, tell me the sights that ye have seen, i pray-a; go not another way-a." they took their leave, both old and young, of herod, that moody king; they went forth with their offering, by light-a of the star that shone so bright-a. till they came into the place where jesus and his mother was, there they offered with great solace, in fere-a, gold, incense, and myrrh-a. when they had their offering made, as the holy ghost them bade, then were they both merry and glad, and light-a; it was a good fair sight-a. anon, as on their way they went, the father of heaven an angel sent, to those three kings that made present, that day-a, who thus to them did say-a: "my lord hath warned you every one, by herod king ye go not home, for, an' you do, he will you slone[ ] and strye-a,[ ] and hurt you wonderly-a." so forth they went another way, through the might of god, his lay,[ ] as the angel to them did say, full right-a, it was a fair good sight-a. when they were come to their countree, merry and glad they were all three, of the sight that they had see by night-a; by the star's shining light-a. kneel we now all here adown to that lord of great renown, and pray we in good devotion for grace-a, in heaven to have a place-a. [footnote : last.] [footnote : slay.] [footnote : stay, hinder.] [footnote : law.] this festival was held in high honour in england; and up to the reign of george iii. our kings and queens, attended by the knights of the three great orders--the garter, the thistle, and the bath--were wont to go in state to the chapel royal, st. james's, and there offer gold, frankincense, and myrrh, in commemoration of the _magi_; but when george iii. was incapacitated, mentally, from performing the functions of royalty, it was done by proxy, and successive sovereigns have found it convenient to perform this act of piety vicariously. it must have been a magnificent function in the time of henry vii., as we learn by le neve's _royalle book_. "as for twelfth day, the king must go crowned, in his royal robes, kirtle, surtout, his furred hood about his neck, his mantle with a long train, and his cutlas before him; his armills upon his arms, of gold set full of rich stones; and no temporal man to touch it but the king himself; and the squire for the body must bring it to the king in a fair kerchief, and the king must put them on himself; and he must have his sceptre in his right hand, and the ball with the cross in his left hand, and the crown upon his head. and he must offer that day gold, myrrh, and sense; then must the dean of the chapel send unto the archbishop of canterbury, by clerk, or priest, the king's offering that day; and then must the archbishop give the next benefice that falleth in his gift to the same messenger. and then the king must change his mantle when he goeth to meat, and take off his hood, and lay it about his neck; and clasp it before with a great rich ouche; and this must be of the same colour that he offered in. and the queen in the same form as when she is crowned." now the ceremonial is as simple as it can be made. in the chapel royal, st. james's, after the reading of the sentence at the offertory, "let your light so shine before men," etc., while the organ plays, two members of her majesty's household, wearing the royal livery, descend from the royal pew, and, preceded by the usher, advance to the altar rails, where they present to one of the two officiating clergymen a red bag, edged with gold lace or braid, which is received in an alms dish, and then reverently placed upon the altar. this bag, or purse, is understood to contain the queen's offering of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. chapter xxxi "the king of the bean"--customs on twelfth day--twelfth cakes--twelfth night characters--modern twelfth night--the pastry cook's shops--dethier's lottery--the song of the wren--"holly night" at brough--"cutting off the fiddler's head." but another sovereign had a great deal to do with twelfth day, "the king of the bean," who takes his title from a bean, or a silver penny, baked in a cake, which is cut up and distributed, and he is king in whose slice the bean is found. naogeorgus gives us the following account of twelfth day:-- the wise men's day here foloweth, who out from _persia_ farre, brought giftes and presents unto christ, conducted by a starre. the papistes do beleeve that these were kings, and so them call, and do affirme that of the same there were but three in all. here sundrie friendes togither come, and meete in companie, and make a king amongst themselves by voyce, or destinie: who, after princely guise, appoyntes his officers alway. then, unto feasting doe they go, and long time after play: upon their hordes, in order thicke, the daintie dishes stande, till that their purses emptie be, and creditors at hande. their children herein follow them, and choosing princes here, with pompe and great solemnitie, they meete and make good chere: with money eyther got by stealth, or of their parents eft, that so they may be traynde to knowe, both ryot here and theft. then also every housholder, to his abilitie, doth make a mightie cake, that may suffice his companie: herein a pennie doth he put, before it comes to fire, this he devides according as his housholde doth require. and every peece distributeth, as round about they stand, which, in their names, unto the poore, is given out of hand: but, who so chaunceth on the peece wherin the money lies, is counted king amongst them all, and is, with showtes and cries, exalted to the heavens up, who, taking chalke in hande, doth make a crosse on every beame, and rafters as they stande: great force and powre have these agaynst all injuryes and harmes of cursed devils, sprites, and bugges,[ ] of coniurings and charmes. so much this king can do, so much the crosses brings to passe, made by some servant, maide, or childe, or by some foolish asse. twise sixe nightes then from christmasse, they do count with diligence wherein eche maister, in his house, doth burne up franckensence: and on the table settes a loafe, when night approcheth nere, before the coles, and franckensence, to be perfumed there: first bowing downe his heade he standes, and nose, and eares, and eyes he smokes, and with his mouth receyve the fume that doth arise: whom followeth streight his wife, and doth the same full solemly, and of their children every one, and all their family: which doth preserve, they say, their teeth, and nose, and eyes, and eare, from every kind of maladie, and sicknesse all the yeare. when every one receyved hath this odour, great and small, then one takes up the pan with coales, and franckensence, and all, another takes the loafe, whom all the rest do follow here, and round about the house they go, with torch or taper clere, that neither bread nor meat do want, nor witch with dreadful charme have powre to hurt their children, or to do their cattell harme. there are, that three nightes onely do perfourme this foolish geare, to this intent, and thinke themselves in safetie all the yeare. to christ dare none commit himselfe. and in these dayes beside, they iudge what weather all the yeare shall happen and betide: ascribing to ech day a month. and, at this present time, the youth in every place doe flocke, and all appareld fine, with pypars through the streetes they runne, and sing at every dore, in commendation of the man, rewarded well therefore: which on themselves they do bestowe, or on the church, as though the people were not plagude with roges and begging fryers enough. there cities are, where boyes and gyrles togither still do runne, about the streete with like, as soone as night beginnes to come, and bring abrode their wassell bowles, who well rewarded bee, with cakes and cheese, and great good cheare, and money plentiouslie. [footnote : bugbears, goblins.] the above gives us twelfth day customs in the sixteenth century. herrick tells us how it was celebrated a hundred years later, when they had added a queen to the festivities, as they had, previously, given a consort to the lord of misrule. _twelfe night, or_ king _and_ queene. now, now the mirth comes with the cake full of plums, where beane's the _king_ of the sport here; besides, we must know the pea also must revell, as _queene_, in the court here. begin, then, to chuse (this night, as ye use), who shall for the present delight here, be a _king_ by the lot, and who shall not be twelfe-day _queene_ for the night here. which knowne, let us make joy-sops with the cake; and let not a man then be seen here who un-urg'd will not drinke to the base, from the brink, a health to the _king_ and the _queene_ here. next, crowne the bowle full with gentle lamb's-wooll; adde sugar, nutmeg, and ginger, with store of ale too; and thus ye must doe to make the wassaile a swinger. give then to the _king_ and _queene_ wassailing; and though, with ale, ye be whet here, yet part ye from hence as free from offence as when ye innocent met here. this custom of having a twelfth cake and electing a king and queen has now died out, and is only known by tradition; so utterly died out indeed, that in the british museum library there is not a single sheet of "twelfth-night characters" to show the younger race of students what they were like. the nearest approach to them preserved in that national collection of literature are some lottery squibs, which imitated them; and hone, writing in , says: "it must be admitted, however, that the characters sold by the pastry cooks are either commonplace or gross; when genteel, they are inane; when humorous, they are vulgar." a correspondent in the _universal magazine_ for thus describes the drawing for king and queen at that date. he says: "i went to a friend's house in the country to partake of some of those innocent pleasures that constitute a merry christmas. i did not return till i had been present at drawing king and queen, and eaten a slice of the twelfth cake, made by the fair hands of my good friend's consort. after tea, yesterday, a noble cake was produced, and two bowls, containing the fortunate chances for the different sexes. our host filled up the tickets; the whole company, except the king and queen, were to be ministers of state, maids of honour, or ladies of the bed-chamber. our kind host and hostess, whether by design or accident, became king and queen. according to twelfth-day law, each party is to support their character till midnight." here we see they had no sheets of "twelfth-night characters" (the loss of which i deplore), but they were of home manufacture. hone, in his _every-day book_, vol. i. p. , describes the drawing some fifty years later. "first, buy your cake. then, before your visitors arrive, buy your characters, each of which should have a pleasant verse beneath. next, look at your invitation list, and count the number of ladies you expect; and, afterwards, the number of gentlemen. then take as many female characters as you have invited ladies; fold them up, exactly of the same size, and number each on the back, taking care to make the king no. and the queen no. . then prepare and number the gentlemen's characters. cause tea and coffee to be handed to your visitors as they drop in. when all are assembled, and tea over, put as many ladies' characters in a reticule as there are ladies present; next, put the gentlemen's characters in a hat. then call a gentleman to carry the reticule to the ladies, as they sit, from which each lady is to draw one ticket, and to preserve it unopened. select a lady to bear the hat to the gentlemen for the same purpose. there will be one ticket left in the reticule, and another in the hat, which the lady and gentleman who carried each is to interchange, as having fallen to each. next, arrange your visitors according to their numbers; the king no. , the queen no. , and so on. the king is then to recite the verse on his ticket; then the queen the verse on hers, and so the characters are to proceed in numerical order. this done, let the cake and refreshments go round, and hey! for merriment!" the twelfth cakes themselves were, in the higher class, almost as beautiful as wedding cakes, but they might be had of all prices, from sixpence to anything one's purse might compass; and the confectioner's (they called them pastry cooks in those days) windows were well worth a visit, and crowds did visit them, sometimes a little practical joking taking place, such as pinning two persons together, etc. quoting hone again: "in london, with every pastry cook in the city, and at the west end of the town, it is 'high change' on twelfth day. from the taking down the shutters in the morning, he and his men, with additional assistants, male and female, are fully occupied by attending to the dressing out of the window, executing orders of the day before, receiving fresh ones, or supplying the wants of chance customers. before dusk the important arrangement of the window is completed. then the gas is turned on, with supernumerary argand lamps and manifold waxlights, to illuminate countless cakes, of all prices and dimensions, that stand in rows and piles on the counters and sideboards, and in the windows. the richest in flavour and heaviest in weight and price are placed on large and massy salvers; one, enormously superior in size, is the chief object of curiosity; and all are decorated with all imaginable images of things animate and inanimate. stars, castles, kings, cottages, dragons, trees, fish, palaces, cats, dogs, churches, lions, milkmaids, knights, serpents, and innumerable other forms in snow-white confectionery, painted with variegated colours, glitter by 'excess of light' from mirrors against the walls, festooned with artificial wonders of flora." as the fashion of twelfth cakes declined, the pastry cooks had to push their sale in every way possible, not being very particular as to overstepping the law, by getting rid of them by means of drawings, raffles, and lotteries, which for a long time were winked at by the authorities, until they assumed dimensions which could not be ignored, and m. louis dethier was summoned at bow street on th december , under the act geo. iii. cap. , sec. , for keeping an office at the hanover square rooms for the purpose of carrying on a lottery "under the name, device, and pretence of a distribution of twelfth cakes." he had brought a similar distribution to a successful conclusion in , but that was the exceptional year of the great exhibition, and he was not interfered with; but this was for £ , worth of cakes to be drawn for on ten successive days, beginning th december--tickets one shilling each. this was an undoubted lottery on a grand scale. the case was completely proved against dethier, but he was not punished, as he abandoned his scheme, putting up with the loss. there were some curious customs in different parts of the kingdom on twelfth day, but i doubt whether many are in existence now. the following, taken from _notes and queries_ ( ser. v. ), was in vogue in . "it is still the custom in parts of pembrokeshire on twelfth night to carry about a wren. "the wren is secured in a small house made of wood, with door and windows--the latter glazed. pieces of ribbon of various colours are fixed to the ridge of the roof outside. sometimes several wrens are brought in the same cage; and oftentimes a stable lantern, decorated as above mentioned, serves for the wren's house. the proprietors of this establishment go round to the principal houses in the neighbourhood, where, accompanying themselves with some musical instrument, they announce their arrival by singing the 'song of the wren.' the wren's visit is a source of much amusement to children and servants; and the wren's men, or lads, are usually invited to have a draught from the cellar, and receive a present in money. the 'song of the wren' is generally encored, and the proprietors very commonly commence high life below stairs, dancing with the maid-servants, and saluting them under the kissing bush, where there is one. i have lately procured a copy of the song sung on this occasion. i am told that there is a version of this song in the welsh language, which is in substance very near to the following:-- "the song of the wren. "joy health, love, and peace be to you in this place, by your leave we will sing concerning our king: our king is well drest, in silks of the best; with his ribbons so rare, no king can compare. in his coach he does ride, with a great deal of pride; and with four footmen to wait upon him. we four were at watch, and all nigh of a match; with powder and ball, we fired at his hall. we have travelled many miles over hedges and stiles, to find you this king, which we now to you bring. now christmas is past, twelfth day is the last, th' old year bids adieu; great joy to the new." hone, in his _table book_, p. , gives a description of "holly night" at brough, westmoreland, in . "formerly the 'holly tree' at brough was really holly, but ash being abundant, the latter is now substituted. there are two head inns in the town, which provide for the ceremony alternately, although the good townspeople mostly lend their assistance in preparing the tree, to every branch of which they fasten a torch. about eight o'clock in the evening it is taken to a convenient part of the town, where the torches are lighted, the town band accompanying, and playing till all is completed, when it is removed to the lower end of the town; and after divers salutes and huzzas from the spectators, is carried up and down the town in stately procession. the band march behind it, playing their instruments, and stopping every time they reach the town bridge and the cross, where the 'holly' is again greeted with shouts of applause. many of the inhabitants carry lighted branches and flambeaus; and rockets, squibs, etc., are discharged on the joyful occasion. after the tree is thus carried, and the torches are sufficiently burnt, it is placed in the middle of the town, when it is again cheered by the surrounding populace, and is afterwards thrown among them. they eagerly watch for this opportunity; and, clinging to each end of the tree, endeavour to carry it away to the inn they are contending for, where they are allowed their usual quantum of ale and spirits, and pass a merry night, which seldom breaks up before two in the morning." according to waldron, in his _description of the isle of man_, , p. , the following singular custom is in force on twelfth day. in this island there is not a barn unoccupied on the whole twelve days after christmas, every parish hiring fiddlers at the public charge. on twelfth day the fiddler lays his head in the lap of some one of the wenches, and the _mainstyr fiddler_ asks who such a maid, or such a maid, naming all the girls one after another, shall marry, to which he answers according to his own whim, or agreeable to the intimacies he has taken notice of during the time of merriment, and whatever he says is absolutely depended upon as an oracle; and if he couple two people who have an aversion to each other, tears and vexation succeed the mirth; this they call "cutting off the fiddler's head," for after this he is dead for a whole year. chapter xxxii st. distaff's day--plough monday--customs on the day--feast of the purification. here christ-tide ought to end, and men and women should have returned to their ordinary avocations, but the long holiday demoralised them; and although the women were supposed to set to work on the day succeeding twelfth day, thence called st. distaff's day, or rock[ ] day, there was rough play, as herrick tells us:-- partly work, and partly play, ye must, on _st. distaff's day_: from the plough soone free your teame; then come home and fother them. if the maides a spinning goe, burne the flax, and fire the tow: bring in pails of water then, let the maides bewash the men. give _s. distaffe_ all the right, then bid christmas sport _good-night_. and, next morrow, every one to his owne vocation. [footnote : a name for a spinning wheel.] the men, however, could not settle down to work so speedily, serious work not beginning till after "plough monday," or the monday after twelfth day. tusser says: plough munday, next after that twelf tide is past, bids out with the plough--the worst husband is last. if plowman get hatchet, or whip to the skrene, maids loseth their cocke, if no water be seen. this verse would be rather enigmatical were it not explained in _tusser redivivus_ ( , p. ). "after christmas (which, formerly, during the twelve days, was a time of very little work) every gentleman feasted the farmers, and every farmer their servants and task-men. _plough monday_ puts them in mind of their business. in the morning, the men and the maid-servants strive who shall show their diligence in rising earliest. if the ploughman can get his whip, his ploughstaff, hatchet, or any thing that he wants in the field, by the fireside before the maid hath got her kettle on, then the maid loseth her shrove-tide cock, and it belongs wholly to the men. thus did our forefathers strive to allure youth to their duty, and provided them with innocent mirth as well as labour. on this plough monday they have a good supper and some strong drink." in many parts of the country it was made a regular festival, but, like all these old customs, it has fallen into desuetude. however, hone's _every-day book_ was not written so long ago, and he there says: "in some parts of the country, and especially in the north, they draw the plough in procession to the doors of the villagers and townspeople. long ropes are attached to it, and thirty or forty men, stripped to their clean white shirts, but protected from the weather by waistcoats beneath, drag it along. their arms and shoulders are decorated with gay coloured ribbons tied in large knots and bows, and their hats are smartened in the same way. they are usually accompanied by an old woman, or a boy dressed up to represent one; she is gaily bedizened, and called the _bessy_. sometimes the sport is assisted by a humourous countryman to represent a _fool_. he is covered with ribbons, and attired in skins, with a depending tail, and carries a box to collect money from the spectators. they are attended by music and morris dancers, when they can be got; but it is always a sportive dance with a few lasses in all their finery, and a superabundance of ribbons. the money collected is spent at night in conviviality." chambers's _book of days_ also gives an account of this frolic. "a correspondent, who has borne a part (cow-horn blowing) on many a plough monday in lincolnshire, thus describes what happened on these occasions under his own observation:--rude though it was, the plough procession threw a life into the dreary scenery of winter as it came winding along the quiet rutted lanes on its way from one village to another; for the ploughmen from many a surrounding thorpe, hamlet, and lonely farm-house united in the celebration of plough monday. it was nothing unusual for at least a score of the 'sons of the soil' to yoke themselves with ropes to the plough, having put on clean smock-frocks in honour of the day. there was no limit to the number who joined in the morris dance, and were partners with 'bessy,' who carried the money box; and all these had ribbons in their hats, and pinned about them, wherever there was room to display a bunch. many a hard-working country molly lent a helping hand in decorating her johnny for plough monday, and finished him with an admiring exclamation of--'lawks, john! thou dost look smart, surely!' some also wore small bunches of corn in their hats, from which the wheat was soon shaken out by the ungainly jumping which they called dancing. occasionally, if the winter was severe, the procession was joined by threshers carrying their flails, reapers bearing their sickles, and carters with their long whips, which they were ever cracking to add to the noise, while even the smith and the miller were among the number, for the one sharpened the plough-shares, and the other ground the corn; and bessy rattled his box, and danced so high that he showed his worsted stockings and corduroy breeches; and, very often, if there was a thaw, tucked up his gown-skirts under his waistcoat and shook the bonnet off his head, and disarranged the long ringlets that ought to have concealed his whiskers. for bessy is to the procession of plough monday what the leading _figurante_ is to the opera or ballet, and dances about as gracefully as the hippopotami described by dr. livingstone. but these rough antics were the cause of much laughter, and rarely do we ever remember hearing any coarse jest that could call up an angry blush to a modest cheek. "no doubt they were called 'plough bullocks' through drawing the plough, as bullocks were formerly used, and are still yoked to the plough in some parts of the country. the rubbishy verses they recited are not worth preserving, beyond the line which graces many a public-house sign, of 'god speed the plough.' at the large farm-house, besides money, they obtained refreshment; and, through the quantity of ale they thus drank during the day, managed to get what they called 'their load' by night. "but the great event of the day was when they came before some house which bore signs that the owner was well-to-do in the world, and nothing was given to them. bessy rattled his box, and the ploughmen danced, while the country lads blew their bullock's horns, or shouted with all their might; but if there was still no sign, no forthcoming of either bread and cheese or ale, then the word was given, the ploughshare driven into the ground before the door or window, the whole twenty men yoked pulling like one, and, in a minute or two, the ground was as brown, barren, and ridgy as a newly ploughed field. but this was rarely done, for everybody gave something, and, were it but little, the men never murmured, though they might talk of the stinginess of the giver afterwards amongst themselves, more especially if the party was what they called 'well off in the world.' we are not aware that the ploughmen were ever summoned to answer for such a breach of the law, for they believe, to use their own expressive language, 'they can stand by it, and no law in the world can touch 'em, 'cause it's an old charter.' "one of the mummers generally wears a fox's skin in the form of a hood; but, beyond the laughter the tail that hangs down his back awakens by its motion when he dances, we are at a loss to find a meaning. bessy formerly wore a bullock's tail behind, under his gown, and which he held in his hand while dancing, but that appendage has not been worn of late." on the nd of february--the feast of the purification of the blessed virgin mary--all christ-tide decorations are to be taken down, and with them ends all trace of that festive season. farwell, crystmas fayer and fre; farwell, newers day with the; farwell, the holy epyphane; and to mary now sing we. "_revertere, revertere_, the queen of blysse and of beaute." the end [transcriber's note: the texts cited use a variety of long and short dashes, generally with no relationship to the number of letters omitted. for this e-text, short dashes are shown as separated hyphens, while longer dashes are shown as connected hyphens: d - - - n _molley h----ns_ for her pride. groups of three vertical braces } represent a single brace encompassing three rhymed line.] * * * * * * * * * * * * * * the augustan reprint society the merry-thought: or, the glass-window and bog-house miscellany. part i (_ _) _introduction by_ george r. guffey publication number _ _ william andrews clark memorial library university of california, los angeles _ _ general editor david stuart rodes, _university of california, los angeles_ editors charles l. batten, _university of california, los angeles_ george robert guffey, _university of california, los angeles_ maximillian e. novak, _university of california, los angeles_ thomas wright, _william andrews clark memorial library_ advisory editors ralph cohen, _university of virginia_ william e. conway, _william andrews clark memorial library_ vinton a. dearing, _university of california, los angeles_ arthur friedman, _university of chicago_ louis a. landa, _princeton university_ earl miner, _princeton university_ samuel h. monk, _university of minnesota_ james sutherland, _university college, london_ robert vosper, _william andrews clark memorial library_ corresponding secretary beverly j. onley, _william andrews clark memorial library_ editorial assistant frances m. reed, _university of california, los angeles_ introduction for modern readers, one of the most intriguing scenes in daniel defoe's _moll flanders_ ( ) occurs during the courtship of moll by the man who is to become her third husband. aware that the eligible men of her day have little interest in prospective wives with small or nonexistent fortunes, moll slyly devises a plan to keep her relative poverty a secret from the charming and (as she has every reason to believe) wealthy plantation owner who has fallen in love with her. to divert attention from her own financial condition, she repeatedly suggests that he has been courting her only for her money. again and again he protests his love. over and over she pretends to doubt his sincerity. after a series of exhausting confrontations, moll's lover begins what is to us a novel kind of dialogue: one morning he pulls off his diamond ring and writes upon the glass of the sash in my chamber this line: you i love and you alone. i read it and asked him to lend me the ring, with which i wrote under it thus: and so in love says every one. he takes his ring again and writes another line thus: virtue alone is an estate. i borrowed it again, and i wrote under it: but money's virtue, gold is fate.[ ] after a number of additional thrusts and counterthrusts of this sort, moll and her lover come to terms and are married. [footnote : daniel defoe, _moll flanders_ (new york: new american library, ), pp. - .] the latter half of the twentieth century has seen a steady growth of serious scholarly interest in graffiti. sociologists, psychologists, and historians have increasingly turned to the impromptu "scratchings" of both the educated and the uneducated as indicators of the general mental health and political stability of specific populations.[ ] although most of us are familiar with at least a few of these studies and all of us have observed numerous examples of this species of writing on the walls of our cities and the rocks of our national parks, we are not likely, before encountering this scene in _moll flanders_, to have ever before come into contact with graffiti produced with such an elegant writing implement. [footnote : for example, e. a. humphrey fenn, "the writing on the wall," _history today_, ( ), - , and "graffiti," _contemporary review_, ( ), - ; terrance l. stocker, linda w. dutcher, stephen m. hargrove, and edwin a. cook, "social analysis of graffiti," _journal of american folklore_, ( ), - ; sylvia spann, "the handwriting on the wall," _english journal_, ( ), - ; robert reisner and lorraine wechsler, _encyclopedia of graffiti_ (new york: macmillan, ); "graffiti helps mental patients," _science digest_, april, , pp. - ; henry solomon and howard yager, "authoritarianism and graffiti," _journal of social psychology_, ( ), - ; carl a. bonuso, "graffiti," _today's education_, ( ), - ; elizabeth wales and barbara brewer, "graffiti in the 's," _journal of social psychology_, ( ), - ; ernest l. abel and barbara e. buckley, _the handwriting on the wall: toward a sociology and psychology of graffiti_ (westport, conn.: greenwood press, ); and marina n. haan and richard b. hammerstrom, _graffiti in the ivy league_ (new york: warner books, ).] glass being fragile and diamonds being relatively rare, it is not surprising that few examples of graffiti produced by the method employed by moll and her lover are known to us today. interestingly enough, we do, however, have available to us a variety of renaissance and eighteenth-century written materials suggesting that the practice of using a diamond to write ephemeral statements on window glass was far less rare in those periods than we might expect. holinshed, for example, tells us that in when elizabeth was released from imprisonment at woodstock, she taunted her enemies by writing these verses with hir diamond in a glasse window verie legiblie as here followeth: much suspected by me, nothing prooued can be: quoth elizabeth prisoner.[ ] [footnote : _holinshed's chronicles of england, scotland, and ireland_ (london, ), iv, .] and in john donne's "a valediction: of my name in the window," we find two lovers in a situation reminiscent of that of the scene i previously quoted from _moll flanders_. using a diamond, the poet, before beginning an extended journey, scratches his name on a window pane in the house of his mistress. here is the first stanza of the poem: my name engrav'd herein, doth contribute my firmnesse to this glasse, which, ever since that charme, hath beene as hard, as that which grav'd it, was; thine eyes will give it price enough, to mock the diamonds of either rock.[ ] while he is absent, the characters he has cut in the glass will, the poet hopes, magically defend his mistress against the seductive entreaties of his rivals. [footnote : john donne, _the elegies and the songs and sonnets_, ed. helen gardner (oxford, clarendon press, ), p. .] in in a satiric letter to _the spectator_, john hughes poked fun at a number of aspiring poets who had recently attempted to create works of art by utilizing what hughes called "contractions or expedients for wit." one virtuoso (a mathematician) had, for example, "thrown the art of poetry into a short problem, and contrived tables by which any one without knowing a word of grammar or sense, may to his great comfort, be able to compose or rather erect _latin_ verses." equally ridiculous to hughes, and more relevant to the concerns of this introduction, was the practice of another poet of his acquaintance: "i have known a gentleman of another turn of humour, who, despising the name of an author, never printed his works, but contracted his talent, and by the help of a very fine diamond which he wore on his little finger, was a considerable poet upon glass. he had a very good epigrammatick wit; and there was not a parlour or tavern window where he visited or dined ... which did not receive some sketches or memorials of it. it was his misfortune at last to lose his genius and his ring to a sharper at play; and he has not attempted to make a verse since."[ ] [footnote : _the spectator_, no. , november , .] but "epigrammatick wits" of this sort were not universally despised in the eighteenth century. in in a "critical dissertation prefix'd" to _a collection of epigrams_, the anonymous editor of the work argued that the epigram itself "is a species of poetry, perhaps, as old as any other whatsoever: it has receiv'd the approbation of almost all ages and nations...." in the book proper, he found room for a number of epigrams which he evidently copied from london window panes. here is an example: clx. _to a lady, on seeing some verses in praise of her, on a pane of glass._ let others, brittle beauties of a year, see their frail names, and lovers vows writ here; who sings thy solid worth and spotless fame, on purest adamant should cut thy name: then would thy fame be from oblivion sav'd; on thy own heart my vows must be engrav'd. one of the epigrams in this collection suggests that, unlike moll's lover and hughes's poet, some affluent authors had even acquired instruments specifically designed to facilitate the practice of writing poetry on glass: _written on a glass by a gentleman, who borrow'd the earl of _chesterfield_'s diamond pencil._ accept a miracle, instead of _wit_; see two dull lines by _stanhope's_ pencil writ.[ ] [footnote : no. ccclxxxii, in _a collection of epigrams. to which is prefix'd, a critical dissertation on this species of poetry_ (london, ).] as the title of this epigram also suggests, window panes were not the only surfaces considered appropriate for such writing. a favorite alternate surface was that of the toasting glass. the practice of toasting the beauty of young ladies had originated at the town of bath during the reign of charles ii. by the beginning of the eighteenth century, the members of some social clubs had developed complex toasting rituals which involved the inscription of the name of the lady to be honored on a drinking glass suitable for that purpose. in an issue of _the tatler_ described the process in some detail: that happy virgin, who is received and drunk to at their meetings, has no more to do in this life but to judge and accept of the first good offer. the manner of her inauguration is much like that of the choice of a doge in venice: it is performed by balloting; and when she is so chosen, she reigns indisputably for that ensuing year; but must be elected a-new to prolong her empire a moment beyond it. when she is regularly chosen, her name is written with a diamond on a drinking-glass.[ ] [footnote : _the tatler_, no. , june , .] perhaps the most famous institution practicing this kind of ceremony in the eighteenth century was the kit-kat club. in jacob tonson, a member of that club, published "verses written for the toasting-glasses of the kit-kat club" in the fifth part of his _miscellany_. space limitations will not permit extensive quotations from this collection, but the toast for lady carlisle is alone sufficient to prove that complete epigrams were at times engraved upon the drinking glasses belonging to this club: she o'er all hearts and toasts must reign, whose eyes outsparkle bright champaign; or (when she will vouchsafe to smile,) the brilliant that now writes _carlisle_.[ ] part i of _the merry-thought: or, the glass-window and bog-house miscellany_ was almost certainly published for the first time in . arthur e. case (_bibliography of english poetical miscellanies_, - ) notes that this pamphlet was listed in the register of books in the _gentleman's magazine_ for october .[ ] an instant success with the reading public, second and third editions of the pamphlet, the third "with very large additions and alterations," were also published in .[ ] because, as its title-page declared, the third and last edition was the fullest of the three, a copy of that edition has been chosen for reproduction here.[ ] [footnote : _the fifth part of miscellany poems_, ed. jacob tonson (london, ), p. .] [footnote : _a bibliography of english poetical miscellanies, - _ (oxford, oxford university press, ), p. .] [footnote : case, p. , points out that the second edition was advertised in the november , , issue of _fog's weekly journal_ and that the third edition was advertised in the december , , issue of the same journal. three additional parts were also published within a year or so, see case, pp. - .] [footnote : although, as the title-page of the third edition advertises, the third edition does contain materials not to be found in the second edition, it does not indicate that the second edition itself contained materials omitted from the third edition. among the materials not reprinted were the following verses: _red-lyon_ at _stains_. my dear _nancy p---k---r_ i sigh for her, i wish for her, i pray for her. alas! it is a plague that _cupid_ will impose, for my neglect of his almighty, dreadful, little might. well, will i love, write, sigh, pray, sue, and groan ah! where shall i make my moan! _t. s._ . _john crumb_, a bailiff, as he was carrying to his grave, occasioned the following piece to be written upon a window in _fleet-street_, _ _. here passes the body of _john crumb_, when living was a baily-bum t'other day he dy'd, and the devil he cry'd, come _jack_, come, come. in the _tower_. though guards surround me day and night, let _celia_ be but in my sight, and then they need not fear my flight. l. n. & g. ] the title-page of part i of _the merry-thought_ states that the contents of the pamphlet had been taken from "original manuscripts written in _diamond_ by persons of the first rank and figure in _great britain_" and that they had been "faithfully transcribed from the drinking-glasses and windows in the several noted _taverns_, _inns_, and other _publick places_ in this nation. amongst which are intermixed the lucubrations of the polite part of the world, written upon walls in bog-houses, _&c._" these statements suggest one of the principal leveling strategies of the pamphlet as a whole: the nobility and the rich, whatever their advantages otherwise, must, like the lowest amongst us, make use of privies; and, in the process, they are just as likely as their brethren of the lower classes to leave their marks on the walls of those conveniences. a number of the verses included in the pamphlet continue the leveling process. one in particular (p. ) adopts the principal strategy employed on the title-page: _from the temple bog-house._ no hero looks so fierce to fight, as does the man who strains to sh-te. others suggest that sexual relations are essentially leveling activities. here (p. ) is an example: _toy, at hampton-court_, . d---n _molley h---ns_ for her pride, she'll suffer none but lords to ride: but why the devil should i care, since i can find another mare? _l. m. august._ another target of the pamphlet was _the spectator_ in general and addison in particular. in his dedication, j. roberts first insists that the graffiti in his collection are notable examples of wit.[ ] he next goes out of his way to associate the contents of _the merry-thought_ with _the spectator_: _but i may venture to say, that good things are not always respected as they ought to be: the people of the world will sometimes overlook a jewel, to avoid a t--d.... nay, i have even found some of the _spectator's_ works in a bog-house, companions with pocky-bills and fortune-telling advertisements...._ [footnote : roberts was almost certainly the collector of the graffiti printed in _the merry-thought_ as well as the author of the dedication, but the dedication was itself signed with the name "hurlo thrumbo." similarly, the title-page listed hurlo thrumbo as the publisher of the work. in _hurlothrumbo: or, the super-natural_, a play by a half-mad dancer and fiddler, samuel johnson of cheshire ( - ), had set all of london talking. the irrational, amusing speeches and actions of hurlothrumbo, the play's title-character, gained instant fame, and two years later roberts, by attributing his collection to the labors of that celebrity, had every reason to expect that the book would attract immediate attention. for a detailed account of the relationship between johnson's play and _the merry-thought_, see george r. guffey, "graffiti, hurlo thrumbo, and the other samuel johnson," in _forum: a journal of the humanities and fine arts_ (university of houston), xvii ( ), - .] in a series of essays in _the spectator_ (nos. - ; may, ), addison had earlier, of course, been at pains to distinguish between "true wit" and "false wit." particularly abhorrent to him was the rebus. the first part of _the merry-thought_ alone contains seven rebuses from "_drinking-glasses, at a private club of gentlemen_" (pp. - ), as well as several examples of other kinds of "wit" which addison would have disdained. during the twenty-five years that followed the publication of the _merry-thought_ series, a few additional pieces of graffiti were published in england and america.[ ] in _the new boghouse miscellany_ appeared, but the contents of this book had little in common with the _merry-thought_ pamphlets. only the scatological humor of the subtitle: _a companion for the close-stool._ consisting of original pieces in prose and verse by several modern authors. printed on an excellent soft paper; and absolutely necessary for all those, who read with a view to convenience, as well as delight. revised and corrected by a gentleman well skilled in the fundamentals of literature, near privy-garden and the generally anti-intellectual thrust of its preface were reminiscent of the _merry-thought_ pamphlets. not until the last half of the twentieth century would the graffito in english receive the kind of attention that had been paid it in england in the s. [footnote : see, for example, _the scarborough miscellany_ (london, ), pp. , ; _the connoisseur_, april , , p. ; _the new american magazine_, no. , december, .] university of california los angeles bibliographical note _the merry-thought: or, the glass-window and bog-house miscellany_ is reproduced from a copy of the third edition in the william andrews clark memorial library. a typical type page (p. ) measures x mm. [illustration: {tavern surmounted by cherub carrying banner reading "ha! ha! ha!"}] the merry-thought: or, the glass-window and bog-house miscellany. taken from the original manuscripts written in _diamond_ by persons of the first rank and figure in _great britain_; relating to love, matrimony, drunkenness, sobriety, ranting, scandal, politicks, gaming, and many other subjects, _serious_ and _comical_. faithfully transcribed from the drinking-glasses and windows in the several noted _taverns_, _inns_, and other _publick places_ in this nation. amongst which are intermixed the lucubrations of the polite part of the world, written upon walls in bog-houses, _&c._ _published by_ hurlo thrumbo. _gameyorum, wildum, gorum, gameyorum a gamy, flumarum a flumarum, a rigdum bollarum a rigdum, for a little gamey._ bethleham-wall, moor-fields. the third edition; with very large additions and alterations. _london:_ printed for j. roberts in _warwick-lane_; and sold by the booksellers in town and country. [price _d._] _n. b._ some pieces having been inadvertently inserted in the second part of this miscellany, whoever it is that shall hereafter send any thing which reflects on the character, &c. of any person, whether it be a nobleman, or a link-boy, shall receive no favour from our hands. the dedication to the honourable and worthy authors of the following curious pieces. gentlemen and ladies, _would it not be great pity, that the profound learning and wit of so many illustrious personages, who have favoured the publick with their lucubrations in diamond characters upon _drinking-glasses_, on _windows_, on _walls_, and in _bog-houses_, should be left to the world? consider only, gentlemen and ladies, how many accidents might rob us of these sparkling pieces, if the industrious care of the collector had not taken this way of preserving them, and handing them to posterity. in the first place, some careless drawer breaks the drinking-glasses inscribed to the beauties of our age; a furious mob at an election breaks the windows of a contrary party; and a cleanly landlord must have, forsooth, his rooms new painted and white-wash'd every now and then, without regarding in the least the wit and learning he is obliterating, or the worthy authors, any more than when he shall have their company: but i may venture to say, that good things are not always respected as they ought to be: the people of the world will sometimes overlook a jewel, to avoid a t--d, though the proverb says, _sh - tt - n luck is good luck_. nay, i have even found some of the _spectator_'s works in a bog-house, companion with pocky-bills and fortune-telling advertisements; but now, as dr. _r----ff_ said, _you shall live_; and i dare venture to affirm, no body shall pretend to use any of your bright compositions for bum-fodder, but those who pay for them. i am not in this like many other publishers, who make the works of other people their own, without acknowledging the piracy they are guilty of, or so much as paying the least complement to the authors of their wisdom: no, gentlemen and ladies, i am not the daw in the fable, that would vaunt and strut in your plumes. and besides, i know very well you might have me upon the hank according to law, and treat me as a highwayman or robber; for you might safely swear upon your honours, that i had stole the whole book from your recreative minutes. but i am more generous; i am what you may call frank and free; i acknowledge them to be _yours_, and now publish them to perpetuate the memory of your honours wit and learning: but as every one must have something of self in him, i am violently flattered, that my character will shine like the diamonds you wrote with, under your exalted protection, to the end of time. i am not like your common dedicators, who fling out their flourishes for the sake of a purse of guineas on their dedicatees; no, gentlemen and ladies, all i desire is, that you will receive this kindly, though i have not put cuts to it, and communicate what sublime thoughts you may chance to meet with to the publisher, _j. roberts_, in _warwick-lane_, post paid, for_ your most humble, most obedient, most obsequious, most devoted, and most faithful servant, hurlo thrumbo. the merry-thought. part i. _madam catherine cadiere's case opened, against father girard's powerful injunction. in a window at maidenhead._ my dearest _kitty_, says the _fryar_, } give me a holy kiss, and i'll retire, } which kiss set all his heart on fire. } he had no rest that night, but often cry'd, } z - - - nds, my dear _kitty_ shall be occupy'd; } i'll lay aside my rank, i will not be deny'd. } to-morrow i'll try her, said the fryar; and so he went to her, and did undoe her, by making her cry out for mercy; and then he kiss'd her _narsey-parsey_. _l. f._ . _underwritten._ dear _kitty_ could never have suffered disgrace, } if whilst the old fryar was kissing her a - - - se, } she'd pull'd up her spirits, and sh - - t in his face. } _from an hundred windows._ that which frets a woman most, is when her expectation's crost. _sun behind the exchange._ _to mr. _d-----b_, on his being very hot upon mrs. _n. s._ _ _._ when the devil would commit a rape. he took upon him _cupid_'s shape: when he the fair-one met, at least, they kiss'd and hugg'd, or hugg'd and kiss'd; but she in amorous desire, thought she had _cupid_'s dart, but got hell fire, and found the smart. _n. b._ and then the surgeon was sent for. _from the white-hart at acton._ _kitty_ the strangest girl in life, for any one to make a wife; her constitution's cold, with warm desire, she kisses just like ice and fire. _at the bear-inn, spinham-land._ e v a n k it is a word of fame, spell it backwards, 'tis your name. _s. t._ . find it out if 'tis your name, _r. m._ _at the cranes, edgeworth._ as i walk'd by myself, i said to myself. and myself said again to me: look to thyself, take care of thyself, for no body cares for thee. then i myself thus answer'd myself, with the self-same repartee: look to thyself, or look not to thyself, 'tis the self-same thing to me. _john careless._ _on a frier who cuckol'd a dyer at roan in france; and the dyer's revenge in dying him _blue_._ there was a topping dyer, was cuckol'd by a frier: he saw the case, how bad it was, and feign'd to take a journey, saying softly, madam, ---- burn ye but stopping by the way he saw the priest full gay, running fast to his house, to tickle his spouse: 'tis d----n'd vile, thinks the dyer, but away went the frier. i'll be with you anon, says the dyer, ---- go on, and as i am blunt, if i find you have don't, i'll dye you for life, for debauching my wife; and as good as his word, for he car'd not a t - - d, away goes the dyer, caught his wife with the frier. and led the monk down, and pickled him soon, in a dye-fat of blue, } which he ever will rue, } 'twas so lasting a hue; } and that spoilt his hunting, a twelve-month or two, _&c._ _daniel cowper, &c._ _on a tavern window in fleet-street._ _an address to our present petit-maitres._ no more let each fond foppling court a brother, and quit the girls to dress for one another; old maids, in vengeance to their slighted beauty, shall one day make you wish you'd done your duty; thro' h - - ll they drag ye on most aukward shapes, yoak'd in their apron-strings, and led for apes. _written under a couple of paultry verses, in a _woman_'s hand._ immodest words admit of no defence; for want of decency is want of sense. _eaton, on a window._ _a discourse by numbers and figures._ when i came to v, we made iv of us ii; yet i took the right hand, and then what came of v? v was lesser by i then v had been beiv: but an l and some xes would make v lxxx. if v could c as well as i, 'tis a hundred to one, but i comply; then v and i together fix, i'll stand by v, and make v vi. _on a window in mainwaring's coffee-house, fleet-street._ _omnia vincit amor._ if kisses were the only joys in bed, then women would with one another wed. _at the same place._ let _jove_ his _juno_, and his _nectar_ boast, champain's my liquor, and miss _k - - - g_ my toast. _rumford on a window._ when full of pence, i was expensive, and now i've none, i'm always pensive. _underwritten._ then be at no expence and you'll have no suspence. _w. t._ _dean's yard, westminster, in charcoal, on a wall, a verse to be read upwards or downwards or arsey-versey the same._ s a t o r a r e p o t e n e t o p e r a r o t a s _maidenhead, in a window._ _in a window, in a window, i saw a cat lick her ear in a window._ nay, sir, ---- she cry'd, i'll swear i won't. i vow i never yet have don't! lord! pray, sir, do not press me so; i'll call for all the folks below. good lord! what is't? you're very rude; and then she acted like a prude. and then, like birds of a feather, they flock'd together. _s. t._ _rebuses on drinking-glasses, at a private club of gentlemen._ _miss wall-sing-ham._ what encloses a plat, as i wish her dear arms had my body encompass'd, with nightingale's charms, and the leg of an hog, gives my dearest her name. her beauties so great set my heart on a flame. _rebus on miss nick-ells._ take the devil's short name, and much more than a yard, you've the name of the dame i shall ever regard. _rebus on miss s. bell._ the greatest noise on sundays made, tells us her name in masquerade, whom i must kiss, ---- or be a _shade_. _rebus for miss m. cotton._ one of the softest things in nature, beareth the name of my dear creature. _rebus on miss anne oliv-er._ a pickle of excellent growth, } and to *_sin_ against the truth, } tells the name of a virgin of beauty and youth. } * i.e. _to err_. _rebus on miss par-sons._ a famous old man of old time, } and his children, the males of his line, } give the name of my beauty divine. } _rebus on miss har-ring-ton._ the pleasure of the sportsman's chase; the pledge in matrimonial case, with twenty hundred weight beside, name her i wish to make my bride. _at epsom on a window._ when my brisk lass upon the grass, will sport, and _give_ her love; she'll wink and pink, till she can't think; that's happiness, by _jove!_ _per jovem juro._ j. m. _the following is in a _caberet_ window at _paris_, to be read forwards and backwards the same._ roma tibi subito motibus ibit amor. _underwritten._ le diable t'emporte. _the three last words, the criticks tell us, spells in english, _the devil take you_._ _at the same place._ _chagrin come le diable:_ for a girl has spoil't my _bauble_. _a heathen greek line from a wall at westminster._ _souldramaton, acapon, alphagoose, pastiveneson._ _in english._ shoulder of mutton, a capon, half a goose, pasty of venison. _in dog-latin at the same place._ _o mirum fartum, perigrinum gooseberrytartum._ _n.b._ _fartum_ is the only _latin_ word for pudding: and as far as i can trace it amongst the antients, there is no _latin_ for a gooseberry-tart; so that the lad who writ it, had no need to apologize for making a word or two: as for _fartum_, 'tis allow'd in our times; for we say _fartum pistum_, is a _baked pudding_; and _fartum coctum_ is a _boiled pudding_: and if the boy loved these things, what is it to us; let every one mind his own business. _brentford at the red-lion, the great room._ says sir _john_ to my lady, as together they sat, shall we first go to supper, or do you know what? dear sir _john_, (with a smile,) return'd the good lady, let us do you know what, for supper's not ready. _bridgnorth, at the crown._ _jenny_ had got a cl - p, which was my mishap: but doctor _r----_ set me right, and i'm now in good plight. january . . j. w. _at the swan at chelsea, in one of the summer-houses; supposed to be written by one who lost his estate in the south-sea year._ damn the joke of all the folk: i've lost my estate; and all men i hate: i shall look through a grate, for i see 'tis my fate. the devil take the bubbles, i'm in a pack of troubles, s. b. . _under this is wrote,_ happy's the man that well could scan, which way his fortune led him: i have got what he lost, i am gay while he's cross'd, so adieu to good mr. _b----n_. ha! ha! ha! . _upon a clock in tavistock-street, covent-garden, ._ i have no legs, and yet i go and stand: and when i stand, i lie; witness my hand; _mentiri non est meum._ _from a window at spring-gardens, vaux-hall._ exil'd from _london_, happy could i live, were this my paradise, and this my _eve_. _at the cardinal's-cap at windsor._ _michael hunt's health._ here's a health to _mich. hunt_, and to _mich. hunt_'s breeches; and why may not i scratch _mich. hunt_, when _mich. hunt_ itches. the clock goes as swift as the hours that fly, when together in bed are my _chloe_ and i: but when she is gone, i bemoan my hard fate, it is millions of years till she knocks at my gate. _underwritten._ d--n the clock for its inconstancy; to give me moments and ages in the same time! o my _chloe_! r. w. . _from a window in chancery-lane._ here did i lay my _celia_ down; i got the p - x, and she got half a crown. w. t. . _underwritten._ give and take; weight for inches. s. r. _from a bog-house at hampton-court, supposed to be written by a violent lover._ oh! that i were a t - - - d, a t - - - d, hid in this secret place, that i might see my _betsy_'s a----, though she sh - - t me in my face. r. m. . _written under this in a woman's hand._ 'tis pity but you had your wish. e. w. _nottingham, at the castle: _jack n----_ cured._ the five and twentieth day of _july_, when _jack_ with liquor grew unruly, in comes sir _richard_ with a quart, and drank him till he broke his heart; so down dropp'd _jack_ upon his back, and lay, till day, and went away. r. c. july . . _catherine-wheel, high-wickham, upon a window._ _salley_'s my toast from head to tail; not half so good is toast and ale. _j. s._ esq; of _oriel-college, oxon._ _three-pigeons, brentford, in a window._ how vain the hopes of woman's love, while all their hearts inconstant prove; nor _m - - - - k_, nor will _dolly_ come; nor _sukey_ with her thumping b--m; nor _molly_ with her flaring eyes; nor _nancy_ with her bouncing thighs: if one don't come, my curse is this, that they may never sh - - t nor p - - ss. six in the morning, r. r. of _oxford_. _three-pigeons, brentford, upon a drinking-glass._ dear charming lovely _nancy l-- --r_, thou art my only toast, i swear. t. t. from _coventry_, _feb._ . . _on another at the same place._ my dearest _sukey percivall_, is all my toast, and that is all. captain _f----l_, _july_ . . _red-lion, at southwell, in a window._ _clarinda_ lay here with a young cavalier; with her heart full of fear, for her husband was near. l. l. _feb._ . . _written under._ 'tis very true; for we saw _rem-in-re_ through the key-hole. s. m. } j. m. } _feb._ . . r. h, } _written under._ if the husband had come, and had seen his wife's b - - m, he'd a known by her looks, she'd been playing ---- at hoy gammer cooks. s. b. _march_ . . _windsor, the white-hart, in a window._ now is my latest guinea chang'd, and gone where it was used to range: when that was broke, it broke my heart; for now for ever we must part, unless i boldly meet it on the road, and bid the porter give it me, by g - d. and so i'll do; _tom. stout_ will see it out, _feb._ . _underwritten._ win it and take it, says captain _hector_: i defy the bold robber; and i have an hundred guineas that i shall travel with to-morrow. _feb._ . _at the cardinal's-cap in windsor, on a window._ _j. f._ is fifteen, and so charming her mien, } her eyes are like brilliants, her looks are serene, } and one kiss from her lips is worth ten from a queen. } _tom. fool_, . _at the same place, on the wall._ never had mortal greater wit than i who ever wanted it; but now my wants have made me scrawl, and rhyme and write the devil and all. _j. forbes_, . _on a summer-house near farnham in surrey._ i, c, u, b y y for me. j. s. _the reading of it is supposed to be, _viz.__ i see you be too wise for me. _star-inn, coventry._ tell me where is fancy bred? } in the heart, or in the head? } how begot, how nourished? } _answer_, had not _celia_ come this way, my heart would be my own this day, fancy's engendered in the eyes, with gazing fed; and fancy dies in the same cradle where it lies; for she's a wh-re, and i despise. _r. l. ._ _at the leg-tavern, fleet-street. we suppose an attempt to put the lives of adam and eve, and their sons, into verse._ mr. _adam_ he was, the first man alive, and he married a fine young gentlewoman, call'd mrs. _eve_. and mr. _adam_ and mrs. _eve_, between them twain got a pretty little boy, called master _cain_. _at the catherine-wheel at henley._ _clelia's epitaph, who was slander'd to death._ death, to vindicate her wrongs, gives her fame which never dies; so the life that died with shame, lives in death with glorious fame. _r. s._ _oct. . _. _at the same place._ three bottles of _burgundy_, and a brisk lass, with a thousand of _grigs_, should it e'er come to pass, would make me behave my self just like an ass. _l. m._ of _oxon_, . _from the temple bog-house._ no hero looks so fierce in fight, as does the man who strains to sh-te. _from the crown at basingstoke, which was, in ben johnson's time, the sign of the angel, and then inhabited by mrs. hope, and her daughter prudence. as tradition informs us, ben johnson was acquainted with the house; and in some time, when he found strange people there, and the sign changed, he wrote the following lines._ when _hope_ and _prudence_ kept this house, the _angel_ kept the door; now _hope_ is dead, and the _angel_ fled, and _prudence_ turn'd a whore. _from the bear at oxford, by a gentleman who had been affronted at the angel._ they are all bears at the _angel_, and all angels at the _bear_. n.b. _there are very pretty girls at the _bear_._ . _n. r._ _in a boghouse at richmond._ to preserve our good health, let us let a good f - - - t; it is better than wealth, it will comfort your heart: and when you have done, with the crack of your b - - m, bend your knees, and then squeeze, and something will come, you'll be better, tho' it's not so big as your thumb. _g. s._ . _crown at basingstoke._ says _nan b----ch_ to sir _john_, you're a scandalous villain; d'ye think i would do what i did for a shilling? in good truth, says sir _john_, when i find a girl willing. let her take what she finds, and give willing for willing. but if you insist upon money for that, } i need not speak plainer, you know what is what, } i shall always look on you as a money-wise cat. } _i. e._ _july_ . . _beaconsfield in a window. i forgot the sign._ blow me a kiss, says a nymph to her swain, and when i have got it, i'll give it again. the swain had been working, as sometimes men do, till he'd hardly got breath for to buckle his shoe; but turning around, he let a great f - - - t, and blow'd her a kiss _according to art_. _b. r._ . _at the swan at chelsea, in a summer-house window._ _jenny_ demure, with prudish looks, turns up her eyes, and rails at naughty folks; but in a private room, turns up her lech'rous tail, and kisses till she's in for cakes and ale. _l. m._ _july_ . . _mitre, hampton,_ . _celia_, the joy of all my parts, i kiss'd, and broke ten thousand hearts: there's ne'er a man the girl will see, but dearest, dearest, dearest me. _i. h._ esq; i can boast, the greatest conquest o'er the greatest toast. _underwritten._ proud puppy, who pretend'st to find, } a woman with a constant mind, } surely denotes that love is blind. } for i have kiss'd her myself, or else i'm an elf, _r. c. fellow-commoner, oxon._ _spinham-land; in a window._ sir _john_ at this place } kiss'd her grace, } which he proved face to face. } _c. w._ _april_ . . _underwritten._ while this was a-doing, her maid i was wooing: she did like her lady, but made me a daddy. _j. w._ _april_ . . _hampton-court, at the mitre, ._ how have i strove to gain the fair? } and yet how little does she care? } but leaves me starving with despair. } 'tis now full eight, i fear her spouse has given her a rendezvous. _those five lines were crossed out; but then follows:_ d - - - mn the first lines, they are not mine, t'abuse a lady so divine; altho' i waited for her hours, i have enjoy'd her lovely powers, her wit, her beauty, and her sense, have fully made me recompence. captain _r. t._ _july_ . . _underwritten._ friend captain t, if thou can'st c, mind what i have to say to thee, thy strumpet wh--re abominable, which thou didst kiss upon a table, has made thy manly parts unable. _farewel, &c. z. b._ _toy, at hampton-court_, . d - - - n _molley h----ns_ for her pride, she'll suffer none but lords to ride: but why the devil should i care, since i can find another mare? _l. m. august._ _star-inn at coventry, in a window._ _letter to _will s - - - rs_, esq;_ dear _will_, i ever will be at your will, whene'er you will, and where you will; so that your will be good-will, i never will dispute your will; but give you will for will. at this time, at all times, or any time, but such times as bad times: for lemon thyme, or common time, or tripple time, are not times like your times and my times for pastimes. then betimes suit your time to my time; or my time is lost time. i wish you well, and hope you're well, as i am well; so all's well that ends well; then farewell. _r. b. april_ . . _star at coventry, on a window._ drunk at _comb-abbey_, horrid drunk; hither i came, and met my fav'rite punk. but she as well might have embrac'd a log, } all night i snor'd, and grunted like a hog, } then was not i a sad confounded dog! } _r. h._ i'll never get drunk again, for my head's full of pain, and it grieves me to think, that by dint of good drink, i should lie with my _phillis_ in vain. _r. h._ . _salisbury, the king's arms, on the wall._ here was a 'pothecary's wife, who never lov'd her spouse in all her life; and for want of his handle, made use of a candle: ---- light as a feather, to bring things together. _s. c._ . _underwritten._ thou fool, 'twas done for want of sense, i tickl'd her concupiscence: and that is enough to save her credit. _s. b._ . _under this is wrote._ from the story above, the girls that love, have learn'd the use of candles; and since that, by _jove_, and the god of love, we have lost the use of handles. _w. s----pe_, _feb._ . . _stockbridge, at the kings-head._ _salley stukely_ is the prettiest girl in _england_, i wish i was to play a game with her single-hand. _r. s._ _windsor, at the cardinal's-cap._ now my sun is retired, my heart is all fired; my _sylvia_'s lost and i am toss'd, into love's flames, what shall i do to gain her? sure something must restrain her, or else she'd come. then i'm undone. help me, dear _cupid_, or i shall grow stupid; and if you won't help me, then _bacchus_ protect me. _r. m._ . _greyhound, at maidenhead._ dear _doll_ is a prude, and i tumbled her down; and i tickled her fancy for half a crown. _r. m----r_, _july_ . . _at the same place._ _chloe's character._ her voice is as clear as the stream; her character light as the sun; her dealings are hard as a stone; but her promise as sure as a gun. _a. p - - pe_, . _at the same place._ a hog, a monkey, and an ass, } were here last night to drink a glass, } when all at length it came to pass, } that the hog and the monkey, grew so drunkey, that both were ready to kiss the a - - se of _tom. dingle_. _april_ . . _at the white-hart, windsor._ how, do i fear my lover will not come; and yet i bid him not: but should he come, then let him read ---- let _man - - r - - ing_ love on, i will requite thee, taming my wild heart to thy loving hand. if thou dost love, my kindness shall incite thee, to bind our loves up in a holy band. _anne oph - - - lia_, . _salisbury, at the king's-arms; seemingly to give the reason why miles seem shorter in one place than another._ when i set out from _london_, i tramp'd on the way, } i was brisk, and my courage and heart was full gay; } so i fancy'd my journey was nothing but play, } but as i went forward, a day or two longer, } the miles seem'd more lengthen'd as i grew less stronger, } and i wish'd in this case to grow younger and younger. } _s. o._ _oct._ . . i walk'd all the way between _london_ and _exeter_. _at the crown at harlow._ when daizies gay, and violets blue, and cowslips with their yellow hue, and lady's smocks of silver white, paint all the meadows with delight, then shall i meet my charming fair, on ouzy banks to take the air; there shall we taste delicious love, equal to what is known above. _r. t. april_ . . _upon a window at the old crown at ware in hertfordshire; supposed to be wrote by a slighted lover._ go you false and faithless fair, gods above forbid my fate, first me joys you do prepare, then you sorrows do create; for 'tis the nature of your sex, first to pleasure, then perplex, happy's he without your smiles. ever-blest he lives content; in exorbitant exiles, never can his fate repent; all his wishes and desires, to destroy love's burning fires. _r. c. june_ . . _at the crown at epping._ tom. rudge _won the hat from_ george redman. _april_ . . he lifted with such might and strength, as would have hurl'd him twice his length, and dash'd his brains (if any) out: but _mars_ that still protects the stout, in pudding-time came to his aid. well done _tom_; and _george_ was a clever fellow too. _c. h._ . _sent to the compiler from a drinking-glass at pontack's-head tavern in fleet-street._ might all my wishes but propitious prove, and all my wants supply'd by mighty _jove_; give me dear _w----rs_, and i'll ask no more, but think her dearer than the golden shower. _c. m._ _sent to the compiler from the same._ _from the bog-house at pancras-wells._ hither i came in haste to sh-t, but found such excrements of wit, that i to shew my skill in verse, had scarcely time to wipe my a - - se. _underwritten._ d----n your writing, mind your sh-t-ng. _on a wainscoat, at the crown at harlow._ whilst lady _mary_ slept at ease, secure from jealousy and fleas, her lord with vig'rous love inclin'd, to kiss her maid, and ease his mind: the maiden did not long resist, but gently yielded to be kist; and in the dance of lovers move, with sprightly bounds to shew her love. when in the height of am'rous fire, she cry'd, my lord, i've one desire, tell me, my peer, tell me, my lord, tell me, my life, upon your word, who does it best, my dame or me? and then she fell in extasy. my lord in fire of his love, call'd her his minion, turtle dove; you have the only art to please, all this he swore upon his knees: your dame is like a log of wood, her love is never half so good. my lord, says she, all that i know; for all the world has told me so. _s----d----rs_, _april_, . _in a barber's shop._ _will._ ---- always fights with his cunning, whilst one foot stands still, th'other is running. _at the sugar-loaf in bell-yard, temple-bar._ if _venus_, or if _bacchus_, be my boast, _claret_'s my liquor, and miss c---- my toast, _upon all the windows of note on the roads._ if one stone splits the most obdurate glass, why needs there two to split a pretty l--ss. _underwritten._ thou fool, i say, you never yet did know, a l--ss was split without the use of two. _r. f._ _underwritten._ nor that neither. _m. l._ _from a bog-house at hampstead._ hard stools proceed from costive claret; yet mortal man cannot forbear it. so childbed-women, full of pain, will grunt and groan, and to't again. _at hampstead, in a window._ gammer _sprigins_ had gotten a maidenhead, and for a gold guinea she brought it to bed; but i found by embracing that i was undone; 'twas a d - - - n'd p-ck-y wh--re, just come from _london_. _r. l._ . _a strange thing written upon a glass window in queen elizabeth's time._ i, c, s, x, o, q, p, u. this must be left to the decypherers. _pancras bog-house._ if smell of t----d makes wit to flow, laud! what would eating of it do. _from the temple bog-house._ if you design to sh--te at ease, pray rest your hands upon your knees. and only give a gentle squeeze. _finis._ _n.b._ a third part of this work being in the press, we intreat our kind correspondents would be speedy in sending their letters to j. roberts. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * errata: editor's introduction (modern): they are just as likely as their brethren _text reads "brethern"_ [footnote : ... graffiti printed in _the merry-thought_ ...] _text reads "marry-thought"_ primary text: title page bethleham-wall, moor-fields. _spelling unchanged_ dedication what sublime thoughts you may chance to meet with _text reads "my chance"_ body text beareth the name of my dear creature. _text reads "beareththe" without space_ supposed to be written by a violent lover _text reads "writeen" nor _m - - - - k_, nor will _dolly_ come; _last letter in "m--k" unclear_ _i. e._ _july_ . . _numeral " " unclear_ christmas in ritual and tradition, christian and pagan by clement a. miles published by t. fisher unwin [illustration: the adoration of the magi (detail). gentile da fabriano (_florence: accademia_)] | | preface in this volume i have tried to show how christmas is or has been kept in various lands and ages, and to trace as far as possible the origin of the pagan elements that have mingled with the church's feast of the nativity. in part i. i have dealt with the festival on its distinctively christian side. the book has, however, been so planned that readers not interested in this aspect of christmas may pass over chapters ii.-v., and proceed at once from the introduction to part ii., which treats of pagan survivals. the book has been written primarily for the general reader, but i venture to hope that, with all its imperfections, it may be of some use to the more serious student, as a rough outline map of the field of christmas customs, and as bringing together materials hitherto scattered through a multitude of volumes in various languages. there is certainly room for a comprehensive english book on christmas, taking account of the results of modern historical and folk-lore research. the writer of a work of this kind necessarily owes an immense debt to the labours of others. in my bibliographical notes i have done my best to acknowledge the sources from which i have drawn. it is only right that i should express here my special obligation, both for information and for suggestions, to mr. e. k. chambers's "the mediaeval stage," an invaluable storehouse of fact, theory, and bibliographical references. i also owe much to the important monographs of dr. a. tille, "die geschichte der deutschen weihnacht" and "yule and christmas"; to dr. feilberg's danish work, "jul," the fullest account of christmas | | customs yet written; and of course, like every student of folk-lore, to dr. frazer's "the golden bough." references to authorities will be found at the end of the volume, and are indicated by small numerals in the text; notes requiring to be read in close conjunction with the text are printed at the foot of the pages to which they relate, and are indicated by asterisks, &c. [transcriber's note: the 'small numerals' are represented in this ebook by numbers in {curly braces}. the footnotes appear at the end of the ebook and are indicated by numbers in [square brackets]. page numbers from the original edition have been retained and appear in the text between |pipe characters|.] i have to thank mr. frank sidgwick for most kindly reading my proofs and portions of my ms., and for some valuable suggestions. c. a. m. | | contents preface chapter i introduction the origin and purpose of festivals--ideas suggested by christmas--pagan and christian elements--the names of the festival--foundation of the feast of the nativity--its relation to the epiphany--december and the _natalis invicti_--the kalends of january--yule and teutonic festivals--the church and pagan survivals--two conflicting types of festival--their interaction--plan of the book. part i--the christian feast chapter ii christmas poetry (i) ancient latin hymns, their dogmatic, theological character--humanizing influence of franciscanism--jacopone da todi's vernacular verse--german catholic poetry--mediaeval english carols. chapter iii christmas poetry (ii) the french _noël_--latin hymnody in eighteenth-century france--spanish christmas verse--traditional carols of many countries--christmas poetry in protestant germany--post-reformation verse in england--modern english carols. | | chapter iv christmas in liturgy and popular devotion advent and christmas offices of the roman church--the three masses of christmas, their origin and their celebration in rome--the midnight mass in many lands--protestant survivals of the night services--christmas in the greek church--the eastern epiphany and the blessing of the waters--the _presepio_ or crib, its supposed institution by st. francis--early traces of the crib--the crib in germany, tyrol, &c.--cradle-rocking in mediaeval germany--christmas minstrels in italy and sicily--the _presepio_ in italy--ceremonies with the _culla_ and the _bambino_ in rome--christmas in italian london--the spanish christmas--possible survivals of the crib in england. chapter v christmas drama origins of the mediaeval drama--dramatic tendencies in the liturgy--latin liturgical plays--the drama becomes laicized--characteristics of the popular drama--the nativity in the english miracle cycles--christmas mysteries in france--later french survivals of christmas drama--german christmas plays--mediaeval italian plays and pageants--spanish nativity plays--modern survivals in various countries--the star singers, &c. postscript part ii--pagan survivals chapter vi pre-christian winter festivals the church and superstition--nature of pagan survivals--racial origins--roman festivals of the _saturnalia_ and kalends--was there a teutonic midwinter festival?--the teutonic, celtic, and slav new year--customs attracted to christmas or january -- the winter cycle of festivals--_rationale_ of festival ritual: (_a_) sacrifice and sacrament, (_b_) the cult of the dead, (_c_) omens and charms for the new year--compromise in the later middle ages--the puritans and christmas--decay of old traditions. | | chapter vii all hallow tide to martinmas all saints' and all souls' days, their relation to a new year festival--all souls' eve and tendance of the departed--soul cakes in england and on the continent--pagan parallels of all souls'--hallowe'en charms and omens--hallowe'en fires--guy fawkes day--"old hob," the _schimmelreiter_, and other animal masks--martinmas and its slaughter--martinmas drinking--st. martin's fires in germany--winter visitors in the low countries and germany--st. martin as gift-bringer--st. martin's rod. chapter viii st. clement to st. thomas st. clement's day quests and processions--st. catherine's day as spinsters' festival--st. andrew's eve auguries--the _klöpfelnächte_--st. nicholas's day, the saint as gift-bringer, and his attendants--election of the boy bishop--st. nicholas's day at bari--st. lucia's day in sweden, sicily, and central europe--st. thomas's day as school festival--its uncanny eve--"going a-thomassin'." chapter ix christmas eve and the twelve days christkind, santa klaus, and knecht ruprecht--talking animals and other wonders of christmas eve--scandinavian beliefs about trolls and the return of the dead--traditional christmas songs in eastern europe--the twelve days, their christian origin and pagan superstitions--the raging host--hints of supernatural visitors in england--the german _frauen_--the greek _kallikantzaroi_. chapter x the yule log the log as centre of the domestic christmas--customs of the southern slavs--the _polaznik_--origin of the yule log--probable connection with vegetation-cults or ancestor-worship--the _souche de noël_ in france--italian and german christmas logs--english customs--the yule candle in england and scandinavia. | | chapter xi the christmas-tree, decorations, and gifts the christmas-tree a german creation--charm of the german christmas--early christmas-trees--the christmas pyramid--spread of the tree in modern germany and other countries--origin of the christmas-tree--beliefs about flowering trees at christmas--evergreens at the kalends--non-german parallels to the christmas-tree--christmas decorations connected with ancient kalends customs--sacredness of holly and mistletoe--floors strewn with straw--christmas and new year gifts, their connection with the roman _strenae_ and st. nicholas--present-giving in various countries--christmas cards. chapter xii christmas feasting and sacrificial survivals prominence of eating in the english christmas--the boar's head, the goose, and other christmas fare--frumenty, sowens, yule cakes, and the wassail bowl--continental christmas dishes, their possible origins--french and german cakes--the animals' christmas feast--cakes in eastern europe--relics of animal sacrifice--hunting the wren--various games of sacrificial origin. chapter xiii masking, the mummers' play, the feast of fools, and the boy bishop english court masking--"the lord of misrule"--the mummers' play, the sword-dance, and the morris dance--origin of st. george and other characters--mumming in eastern europe--the feast of fools, its history and suppression--the boy bishop, his functions and sermons--modern survivals of the boy bishop. chapter xiv st. stephen's, st. john's, and holy innocents' days horse customs of st. stephen's day--the swedish st. stephen--st. john's wine--childermas and its beatings. | | chapter xv new year's day principle of new year customs--the new year in france, germany, the united states, and eastern europe--"first-footing" in great britain--scottish new year practices--highland fumigation and "breast-strip" customs--hogmanay and aguillanneuf--new year processions in macedonia, roumania, greece, and rome--methods of augury--sundry new year charms. chapter xvi epiphany to candlemas the twelfth cake and the "king of the bean"--french twelfth night customs--st. basil's cake in macedonia--epiphany and the expulsion of evils--the befana in italy--the magi as present-bringers--greek epiphany customs--wassailing fruit-trees--herefordshire and irish twelfth night practices--the "haxey hood" and christmas football--st. knut's day in sweden--rock day--plough monday--candlemas, its ecclesiastical and folk ceremonies--farewells to christmas. conclusion notes and bibliography index | | [illustration: madonna and child. _by albrecht dürer._] | | illustrations the adoration of the magi (detail) frontispiece gentile da fabriano. (_florence: accademia_) madonna and child albert dürer madonna enthroned with saints and angels pesellino. (_empoli gallery_) jacopone in ecstasy before the virgin from "laude di frate jacopone da todi" (florence, ) the adoration of the shepherds by fouquet. (_musée condé, chantilly_) the flight into egypt: the rest by the way master of the seven sorrows of mary. (also attributed to joachim patinir.) (_vienna: imperial gallery_) singing "vom himmel hoch" from a church tower at christmas by ludwig richter the nativity from add. ms. in the british museum. (french, th century) a neapolitan _presepio_ calabrian shepherds playing in rome at christmas after an etching by d. allan. from hone's "every-day book" (london, ) st. francis institutes the _presepio_ at greccio by giotto. (_upper church of st. francis, assisi_) | | the _bambino_ of ara coeli the adoration of the shepherds from broadside no. in the collection of the society of antiquaries at burlington house the shepherds of bethlehem from "le grant kalendrier & compost des bergiers" (n. le rouge, troyes, ) the adoration of the magi masaccio. (_berlin: kaiser friedrich museum_) new year mummers in manchuria an asiatic example of animal masks christmas eve in devonshire--the mummers coming in the german christmas-tree in the eighteenth century from an engraving by joseph kellner christmas morning in lower austria by ferdinand waldmüller (b. ) yorkshire sword-actors: st. george in combat with st. peter from an article by mr. t. m. fallow in _the antiquary_, may, the epiphany in florence | | | | | | chapter i introduction the origin and purpose of festivals--ideas suggested by christmas--pagan and christian elements--the names of the festival--foundation of the feast of the nativity--its relation to the epiphany--december and the _natalis invicti_--the kalends of january--yule and teutonic festivals--the church and pagan survivals--two conflicting types of festival--their interaction--plan of the book. it has been an instinct in nearly all peoples, savage or civilized, to set aside certain days for special ceremonial observances, attended by outward rejoicing. this tendency to concentrate on special times answers to man's need to lift himself above the commonplace and the everyday, to escape from the leaden weight of monotony that oppresses him. "we tend to tire of the most eternal splendours, and a mark on our calendar, or a crash of bells at midnight maybe, reminds us that we have only recently been created."[ ]{ } that they wake people up is the great justification of festivals, and both man's religious sense and his joy in life have generally tended to rise "into peaks and towers and turrets, into superhuman exceptions which really prove the rule."{ } it is difficult to be religious, impossible to be merry, at every moment of life, and festivals are as sunlit peaks, testifying, above dark valleys, to the eternal radiance. this is one view of the purpose and value of festivals, and their function of cheering people and giving them larger perspectives has no doubt been an important reason for their maintenance in the past. if we could trace the custom of festival-keeping back to its origins in primitive society | | we should find the same principle of specialization involved, though it is probable that the practice came into being not for the sake of its moral or emotional effect, but from man's desire to lay up, so to speak, a stock of sanctity, magical not ethical, for ordinary days. the first holy-day-makers were probably more concerned with such material goods as food than with spiritual ideals, when they marked with sacred days the rhythm of the seasons.{ } as man's consciousness developed, the subjective aspect of the matter would come increasingly into prominence, until in the festivals of the christian church the main object is to quicken the devotion of the believer by contemplation of the mysteries of the faith. yet attached, as we shall see, to many christian festivals, are old notions of magical sanctity, probably quite as potent in the minds of the common people as the more spiritual ideas suggested by the church's feasts. in modern england we have almost lost the festival habit, but if there is one feast that survives among us as a universal tradition it is christmas. we have indeed our bank holidays, but they are mere days of rest and amusement, and for the mass of the people easter and whitsuntide have small religious significance--christmas alone has the character of sanctity which marks the true festival. the celebration of christmas has often little or nothing to do with orthodox dogma, yet somehow the sense of obligation to keep the feast is very strong, and there are few english people, however unconventional, who escape altogether the spell of tradition in this matter. _christmas_--how many images the word calls up: we think of carol-singers and holly-decked churches where people hymn in time-honoured strains the birth of the divine child; of frost and snow, and, in contrast, of warm hearths and homes bright with light and colour, very fortresses against the cold; of feasting and revelry, of greetings and gifts exchanged; and lastly of vaguely superstitious customs, relics of long ago, performed perhaps out of respect for use and wont, or merely in jest, or with a deliberate attempt to throw ourselves back into the past, to re-enter for a moment the mental childhood of the race. these are a few of | | the pictures that rise pell-mell in the minds of english folk at the mention of christmas; how many other scenes would come before us if we could realize what the festival means to men of other nations. yet even these will suggest what hardly needs saying, that christmas is something far more complex than a church holy-day alone, that the celebration of the birth of jesus, deep and touching as is its appeal to those who hold the faith of the incarnation, is but one of many elements that have entered into the great winter festival. in the following pages i shall try to present a picture, sketchy and inadequate though it must be, of what christmas is and has been to the peoples of europe, and to show as far as possible the various elements that have gone into its make-up. most people have a vague impression that these are largely pagan, but comparatively few have any idea of the process by which the heathen elements have become mingled with that which is obviously christian, and equal obscurity prevails as to the nature and meaning of the non-christian customs. the subject is vast, and has not been thoroughly explored as yet, but the labours of historians and folk-lorists have made certain conclusions probable, and have produced hypotheses of great interest and fascination. i have spoken of "christian"[ ] and "pagan" elements. the distinction is blurred to some extent by the clothing of heathen customs in a superficial christianity, but on the whole it is clear enough to justify the division of this book into two parts, one dealing with the church's feast of the holy birth, the other with those remains of pagan winter festivals which extend from november to january, but cluster especially round christmas and the twelve days. * * * * * before we pass to the various aspects of the church's christmas, we must briefly consider its origins and its relation to certain | | pagan festivals, the customs of which will be dealt with in detail in part ii. the names given to the feast by different european peoples throw a certain amount of light on its history. let us take five of them--_christmas_, _weihnacht_, _noël_, _calendas_, and _yule_--and see what they suggest. i. the english _christmas_ and its dutch equivalent _kerstmisse_, plainly point to the ecclesiastical side of the festival; the german _weihnacht_{ } (sacred night) is vaguer, and might well be either pagan or christian; in point of fact it seems to be christian, since it does not appear till the year , when the faith was well established in germany.{ } _christmas_ and _weihnacht_, then, may stand for the distinctively christian festival, the history of which we may now briefly study. when and where did the keeping of christmas begin? many details of its early history remain in uncertainty, but it is fairly clear that the earliest celebration of the birth of christ on december took place at rome about the middle of the fourth century, and that the observance of the day spread from the western to the eastern church, which had before been wont to keep january as a joint commemoration of the nativity and the baptism of the redeemer.[ ] the first mention of a nativity feast on december is found in a roman document known as the philocalian calendar, dating from the year , but embodying an older document evidently belonging to the year . it is uncertain to which date the nativity reference belongs;[ ] but further back than at all events the festival cannot be traced. from rome, christmas spread throughout the west, with the | | conversion of the barbarians. whether it came to england through the celtic church is uncertain, but st. augustine certainly brought it with him, and christmas day, , witnessed a great event, the baptism of more than ten thousand english converts.{ } in the council of tours had declared the twelve days, from christmas to epiphany, a festal tide;{ } the laws of ethelred ( - ) ordained it to be a time of peace and concord among christian men, when all strife must cease.{ } in germany christmas was established by the synod of mainz in ;{ } in norway by king hakon the good about the middle of the tenth century.{ } in the east, as has been seen, the birth of the redeemer was at first celebrated not on december , but on january , the feast of the epiphany or manifestation of christ's glory. the epiphany can be traced as far back as the second century, among the basilidian heretics, from whom it may have spread to the catholic church. it was with them certainly a feast of the baptism, and possibly also of the nativity, of christ. the origins of the epiphany festival{ } are very obscure, nor can we say with certainty what was its meaning at first. it may be that it took the place of a heathen rite celebrating the birth of the world or Æon from the virgin on january .[ ] at all events one of its objects was to commemorate the baptism, the appearance of the holy dove, and the voice from heaven, "thou art my beloved son, in whom i am well pleased" (or, as other mss. read, "this day have i begotten thee"). | | in some circles of early christianity the baptism appears to have been looked upon as the true birth of christ, the moment when, filled by the spirit, he became son of god; and the carnal birth was regarded as of comparatively little significance. hence the baptism festival may have arisen first, and the celebration of the birth at bethlehem may have been later attached to the same day, partly perhaps because a passage in st. luke's gospel was supposed to imply that jesus was baptized on his thirtieth birthday. as however the orthodox belief became more sharply defined, increasing stress was laid on the incarnation of god in christ in the virgin's womb, and it may have been felt that the celebration of the birth and the baptism on the same day encouraged heretical views. hence very likely the introduction of christmas on december as a festival of the birth alone. in the east the concelebration of the two events continued for some time after rome had instituted the separate feast of christmas. gradually, however, the roman use spread: at constantinople it was introduced about by the great theologian, gregory nazianzen; at antioch it appeared in , at alexandria in . the church of jerusalem long stood out, refusing to adopt the new feast till the seventh century, it would seem.{ } one important church, the armenian, knows nothing of december , and still celebrates the nativity with the epiphany on january .{ } epiphany in the eastern orthodox church has lost its connection with the nativity and is now chiefly a celebration of the baptism of christ, while in the west, as every one knows, it is primarily a celebration of the adoration by the magi, an event commemorated by the greeks on christmas day. epiphany is, however, as we shall see, a greater festival in the greek church than christmas. such in bare outline is the story of the spread of christmas as an independent festival. its establishment fitly followed the triumph of the catholic doctrine of the perfect godhead or christ at the council of nicea in . ii. the french _noël_ is a name concerning whose origin there has been considerable dispute; there can, however, be little doubt that it is the same word as the provençal _nadau_ or _nadal_, | | the italian _natale_, and the welsh _nadolig_, all obviously derived from the latin _natalis_, and meaning "birthday." one naturally takes this as referring to the birth of christ, but it may at any rate remind us of another birthday celebrated on the same date by the romans of the empire, that of the unconquered sun, who on december , the winter solstice according to the julian calendar, began to rise to new vigour after his autumnal decline. why, we may ask, did the church choose december for the celebration of her founder's birth? no one now imagines that the date is supported by a reliable tradition; it is only one of various guesses of early christian writers. as a learned eighteenth-century jesuit{ } has pointed out, there is not a single month in the year to which the nativity has not been assigned by some writer or other. the real reason for the choice of the day most probably was, that upon it fell the pagan festival just mentioned. the _dies natalis invicti_ was probably first celebrated in rome by order of the emperor aurelian ( - ), an ardent worshipper of the syrian sun-god baal.{ } with the _sol invictus_ was identified the figure of mithra, that strange eastern god whose cult resembled in so many ways the worship of jesus, and who was at one time a serious rival of the christ in the minds of thoughtful men.[ ]{ } it was the sun-god, poetically and philosophically conceived, whom the emperor julian made the centre of his ill-fated revival of paganism, and there is extant a fine prayer of his to "king sun."{ } what more natural than that the church should choose this day to celebrate the rising of her sun of righteousness with healing in his wings, that she should strive thus to draw away to his worship some adorers of the god whose symbol and representative was the earthly sun! there is no direct evidence of deliberate substitution, but at all events ecclesiastical writers soon after the foundation of christmas made good use of the idea | | that the birthday of the saviour had replaced the birthday of the sun.[ ] little is known of the manner in which the _natalis invicti_ was kept; it was not a folk-festival, and was probably observed by the classes rather than the masses.{ } its direct influence on christmas customs has probably been little or nothing. it fell, however, just before a roman festival that had immense popularity, is of great importance for our subject, and is recalled by another name for christmas that must now be considered. iii. the provençal _calendas_ or _calenos_, the polish _kolenda_, the russian _kolyáda_, the czech _koleda_ and the lithuanian _kalledos_, not to speak of the welsh _calenig_ for christmas-box, and the gaelic _calluinn_ for new year's eve, are all derived from the latin _kalendae_, and suggest the connection of christmas with the roman new year's day, the kalends or the first day of january, a time celebrated with many festive customs. what these were, and how they have affected christmas we shall see in some detail in part ii.; suffice it to say here that the festival, which lasted for at least three days, was one of riotous life, of banqueting and games and licence. it was preceded, moreover, by the _saturnalia_ (december to ) which had many like features, and must have formed practically one festive season with it. the word _saturnalia_ has become so familiar in modern usage as to suggest sufficiently the character of the festival for which it stands. | | into the midst of this season of revelry and licence the church introduced her celebration of the beginning of man's redemption from the bondage of sin. who can wonder that christmas contains incongruous elements, for old things, loved by the people, cannot easily be uprooted. iv. one more name yet remains to be considered, _yule_ (danish _jul_), the ordinary word for christmas in the scandinavian languages, and not extinct among ourselves. its derivation has been widely discussed, but so far no satisfactory explanation of it has been found. professor skeat in the last edition of his etymological dictionary ( ) has to admit that its origin is unknown. whatever its source may be, it is clearly the name of a germanic season--probably a two-month tide covering the second half of november, the whole of december, and the first half of january.{ } it may well suggest to us the element added to christmas by the barbarian peoples who began to learn christianity about the time when the festival was founded. modern research has tended to disprove the idea that the old germans held a yule feast at the winter solstice, and it is probable, as we shall see, that the specifically teutonic christmas customs come from a new year and beginning-of-winter festival kept about the middle of november. these customs transferred to christmas are to a great extent religious or magical rites intended to secure prosperity during the coming year, and there is also the familiar christmas feasting, apparently derived in part from the sacrificial banquets that marked the beginning of winter. * * * * * we have now taken a general glance at the elements which have combined in christmas. the heathen folk-festivals absorbed by the nativity feast were essentially life-affirming, they expressed the mind of men who said "yes" to this life, who valued earthly good things. on the other hand christianity, at all events in its intensest form, the religion of the monks, was at bottom pessimistic as regards this earth, and valued it only as a place of discipline for the life to come; it was essentially a religion of renunciation that said "no" to the world. the | | christian had here no continuing city, but sought one to come. how could the church make a feast of the secular new year; what mattered to her the world of time? her eye was fixed upon the eternal realities--the great drama of redemption. not upon the course of the temporal sun through the zodiac, but upon the mystical progress of the eternal sun of righteousness must she base her calendar. christmas and new year's day--the two festivals stood originally for the most opposed of principles. naturally the church fought bitterly against the observance of the kalends; she condemned repeatedly the unseemly doings of christians in joining in heathenish customs at that season; she tried to make the first of january a solemn fast; and from the ascetic point of view she was profoundly right, for the old festivals were bound up with a lusty attitude towards the world, a seeking for earthly joy and well-being. the struggle between the ascetic principle of self-mortification, world-renunciation, absorption in a transcendent ideal, and the natural human striving towards earthly joy and well-being, is, perhaps, the most interesting aspect of the history of christianity; it is certainly shown in an absorbingly interesting way in the development of the christian feast of the nativity. the conflict is keen at first; the church authorities fight tooth and nail against these relics of heathenism, these devilish rites; but mankind's instinctive paganism is insuppressible, the practices continue as ritual, though losing much of their meaning, and the church, weary of denouncing, comes to wink at them, while the pagan joy in earthly life begins to colour her own festival. the church's christmas, as the middle ages pass on, becomes increasingly "merry"--warm and homely, suited to the instincts of ordinary humanity, filled with a joy that is of this earth, and not only a mystical rapture at a transcendental redemption. the incarnate god becomes a real child to be fondled and rocked, a child who is the loveliest of infants, whose birthday is the supreme type of all human birthdays, and may be kept with feasting and dance and song. such is the christmas of popular tradition, the nativity as it is reflected in the carols, the cradle-rocking, the mystery plays of the later middle ages. this | | christmas, which still lingers, though maimed, in some catholic regions, is strongly life-affirming; the value and delight of earthly, material things is keenly felt; sometimes, even, it passes into coarseness and riot. yet a certain mysticism usually penetrates it, with hints that this dear life, this fair world, are not all, for the soul has immortal longings in her. nearly always there is the spirit of reverence, of bowing down before the infant god, a visitor from the supernatural world, though bone of man's bone, flesh of his flesh. heaven and earth have met together; the rough stable is become the palace of the great king. this we might well call the "catholic" christmas, the christmas of the age when the church most nearly answered to the needs of the whole man, spiritual and sensuous. the reformation in england and germany did not totally destroy it; in england the carol-singers kept up for a while the old spirit; in lutheran germany a highly coloured and surprisingly sensuous celebration of the nativity lingered on into the eighteenth century. in the countries that remained roman catholic much of the old christmas continued, though the spirit of the counter-reformation, faced by the challenge of protestantism, made for greater "respectability," and often robbed the catholic christmas of its humour, its homeliness, its truly popular stamp, substituting pretentiousness for simplicity, sugary sentiment for naïve and genuine poetry. apart from the transformation of the church's christmas from something austere and metaphysical into something joyous and human, warm and kindly, we shall note in our second part the survival of much that is purely pagan, continuing alongside of the celebration of the nativity, and often little touched by its influence. but first we must consider the side of the festival suggested by the english and french names: _christmas_ will stand for the liturgical rites commemorating the wonder of the incarnation--god in man made manifest--_noël_ or "the birthday," for the ways in which men have striven to realize the human aspect of the great coming. how can we reach the inner meaning of the nativity feast, its significance for the faithful? better, perhaps, by the way of | | poetry than by the way of ritual, for it is poetry that reveals the emotions at the back of the outward observances, and we shall understand these better when the singers of christmas have laid bare to us their hearts. we may therefore first give attention to the christmas poetry of sundry ages and peoples, and then go on to consider the liturgical and popular ritual in which the church has striven to express her joy at the redeemer's birth. ceremonial, of course, has always mimetic tendencies, and in a further chapter we shall see how these issued in genuine drama; how, in the miracle plays, the christmas story was represented by the forms and voices of living men. | | | | | | part i--the christian feast chapter ii christmas poetry (i)[ ]{ } ancient latin hymns, their dogmatic, theological character--humanizing influence of franciscanism--jacopone da todi's vernacular verse--german catholic poetry--mediaeval english carols. [illustration: madonna enthroned with saints and angels. pesellino (_empoli gallery_)] christmas, as we have seen, had its beginning at the middle of the fourth century in rome. the new feast was not long in finding a hymn-writer to embody in immortal latin the emotions called forth by the memory of the nativity. "veni, redemptor gentium" is one of the earliest of latin hymns--one of the few that have come down to us from the father of church song, ambrose, archbishop of milan (d. ). great as theologian and statesman, ambrose was great also as a poet and systematizer of church music. "veni, redemptor gentium" is above all things stately and severe, in harmony with the austere character of the zealous foe of the arian heretics, the champion of monasticism. it is the theological aspect alone of christmas, the redemption of sinful man by the mystery of the incarnation and the miracle of the virgin birth, that we find in st. ambrose's terse and pregnant latin; there is no feeling for the human pathos and poetry of the scene at bethlehem-- "veni, redemptor gentium, ostende partum virginis; miretur omne saeculum: talis decet partus deum. | | non ex virili semine, sed mystico spiramine, verbum dei factum caro, fructusque ventris floruit."[ ]{ } * * * * * another fine hymn often heard in english churches is of a slightly later date. "corde natus ex parentis" ("of the father's love begotten") is a cento from a larger hymn by the spanish poet prudentius (_c._ - ). prudentius did not write for liturgical purposes, and it was several centuries before "corde natus" was adopted into the cycle of latin hymns. its elaborate rhetoric is very unlike the severity of "veni, redemptor gentium," but again the note is purely theological; the incarnation as a world-event is its theme. it sings the birth of him who is "corde natus ex parentis ante mundi exordium, alpha et o cognominatus, ipse fons et clausula omnium quae sunt, fuerunt, quaeque post futura sunt saeculorum saeculis."[ ]{ } other early hymns are "a solis ortus cardine" ("from east to west, from shore to shore"), by a certain coelius sedulius (d. _c._ ), still sung by the roman church at lauds on christmas day, and "jesu, redemptor omnium" (sixth century), the office hymn at christmas vespers. like the poems of ambrose and prudentius, they are in classical metres, unrhymed, and based upon quantity, not accent, and they have the same general character, doctrinal rather than humanly tender. in the ninth and tenth centuries arose a new form of hymnody, the prose or sequence sung after the gradual (the anthem between the epistle and gospel at mass). the earliest writer of sequences was notker, a monk of the abbey of st. gall, near | | the lake of constance. among those that are probably his work is the christmas "natus ante saecula dei filius." the most famous nativity sequence, however, is the "laetabundus, exsultet fidelis chorus" of st. bernard of clairvaux (d. ), once sung all over europe, and especially popular in england and france. here are its opening verses:-- "laetabundus, exsultet fidelis chorus; alleluia! regem regum intactae profudit thorus; res miranda! angelus consilii natus est de virgine, sol de stella! sol occasum nesciens, stella semper rutilans, semper clara."[ ]{ } the "laetabundus" is in rhymed stanzas; in this it differs from most early proses. the writing of rhymed sequences, however, became common through the example of the parisian monk, adam of st. victor, in the second half of the twelfth century. he adopted an entirely new style of versification and music, derived from popular songs; and he and his successors in | | the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries wrote various proses for the christmas festival. if we consider the latin christmas hymns from the fourth century to the thirteenth, we shall find that however much they differ in form, they have one common characteristic: they are essentially theological--dwelling on the incarnation and the nativity as part of the process of man's redemption--rather than realistic. there is little attempt to imagine the scene in the stable at bethlehem, little interest in the child as a child, little sense of the human pathos of the nativity. the explanation is, i think, very simple, and it lights up the whole observance of christmas as a church festival in the centuries we are considering: _this poetry is the poetry of monks, or of men imbued with the monastic spirit_. the two centuries following the institution of christmas saw the break-up of the roman empire in the west, and the incursions of barbarians threatening the very existence of the christian civilization that had conquered classic paganism. it was by her army of monks that the church tamed and christianized the barbarians, and both religion and culture till the middle of the twelfth century were predominantly monastic. "in writing of any eminently religious man of this period" [the eleventh century], says dean church, "it must be taken almost as a matter of course that he was a monk."{ } and a monastery was not the place for human feeling about christmas; the monk was--at any rate in ideal--cut off from the world; not for him were the joys of parenthood or tender feelings for a new-born child. to the monk the world was, at least in theory, the vale of misery; birth and generation were, one may almost say, tolerated as necessary evils among lay folk unable to rise to the heights of abstinence and renunciation; one can hardly imagine a true early benedictine filled with "joy that a man is born into the world." the nativity was an infinitely important event, to be celebrated with a chastened, unearthly joy, but not, as it became for the later middle ages and the renaissance, a matter upon which human affection might lavish itself, which imagination might deck with vivid concrete detail. in the later christmas | | the pagan and the christian spirit, or delight in earthly things and joy in the invisible, seem to meet and mingle; to the true monk of the dark and early middle ages they were incompatible. what of the people, the great world outside the monasteries? can we imagine that christmas, on its christian side, had a deep meaning for them? for the first ten centuries, to quote dean church again, christianity "can hardly be said to have leavened society at all.... it acted upon it doubtless with enormous power; but it was as an extraneous and foreign agent, which destroys and shapes, but does not mingle or renew.... society was a long time unlearning heathenism; it has not done so yet; but it had hardly begun, at any rate it was only just beginning, to imagine the possibility of such a thing in the eleventh century."{ } "the practical religion of the illiterate," says another ecclesiastical historian, dr. w. r. w. stephens, "was in many respects merely a survival of the old paganism thinly disguised. there was a prevalent belief in witchcraft, magic, sortilegy, spells, charms, talismans, which mixed itself up in strange ways with christian ideas and christian worship.... fear, the note of superstition, rather than love, which is the characteristic of a rational faith, was conspicuous in much of the popular religion. the world was haunted by demons, hobgoblins, malignant spirits of divers kinds, whose baneful influence must be averted by charms or offerings."{ } the writings of ecclesiastics, the decrees of councils and synods, from the fourth century to the eleventh, abound in condemnations of pagan practices at the turn of the year. it is in these customs, and in secular mirth and revelry, not in christian poetry, that we must seek for the expression of early lay feeling about christmas. it was a feast of material good things, a time for the fulfilment of traditional heathen usages, rather than a joyous celebration of the saviour's birth. no doubt it was observed by due attendance at church, but the services in a tongue not understanded of the people cannot have been very full of meaning to them, and we can imagine | | their christmas church-going as rather a duty inspired by fear than an expression of devout rejoicing. it is noteworthy that the earliest of vernacular christmas carols known to us, the early thirteenth-century anglo-norman "seignors, ore entendez à nus," is a song not of religion but of revelry. its last verse is typical: "seignors, jo vus di par noël, e par li sires de cest hostel, car bevez ben; e jo primes beverai le men, e pois aprèz chescon le soen, par mon conseil; si jo vus di trestoz, 'wesseyl!' dehaiz eit qui ne dirra, 'drincheyl!'"[ ]{ } not till the close of the thirteenth century do we meet with any vernacular christmas poetry of importance. the verses of the _troubadours_ and _trouvères_ of twelfth-century france had little to do with christianity; their songs were mostly of earthly and illicit love. the german minnesingers of the thirteenth century were indeed pious, but their devout lays were addressed to the virgin as queen of heaven, the ideal of womanhood, holding in glory the divine child in her arms, rather than to the babe and his mother in the great humility of bethlehem. the first real outburst of christmas joy in a popular tongue is found in italy, in the poems of that strange "minstrel of the lord," the franciscan jacopone da todi (b. , d. ). _franciscan_, in that name we have an indication of the change in religious feeling that came over the western world, and | | especially italy, in the thirteenth century.{ } for the twenty all-too-short years of st. francis's apostolate have passed, and a new attitude towards god and man and the world has become possible. not that the change was due solely to st. francis; he was rather the supreme embodiment of the ideals and tendencies of his day than their actual creator; but he was the spark that kindled a mighty flame. in him we reach so important a turning-point in the history of christmas that we must linger awhile at his side. early franciscanism meant above all the democratizing, the humanizing of christianity; with it begins that "carol spirit" which is the most winning part of the christian christmas, the spirit which, while not forgetting the divine side of the nativity, yet delights in its simple humanity, the spirit that links the incarnation to the common life of the people, that brings human tenderness into religion. the faithful no longer contemplate merely a theological mystery, they are moved by affectionate devotion to the babe of bethlehem, realized as an actual living child, god indeed, yet feeling the cold of winter, the roughness of the manger bed. st. francis, it must be remembered, was not a man of high birth, but the son of a silk merchant, and his appeal was made chiefly to the traders and skilled workmen of the cities, who, in his day, were rising to importance, coming, in modern socialist terms, to class-consciousness. the monks, although boys of low birth were sometimes admitted into the cloister, were in sympathy one with the upper classes, and monastic religion and culture were essentially aristocratic. the rise of the franciscans meant the bringing home of christianity to masses of town-workers, homely people, who needed a religion full of vivid humanity, and whom the pathetic story of the nativity would peculiarly touch. love to man, the sense of human brotherhood--that was the great thing which st. francis brought home to his age. the message, certainly, was not new, but he realized it with infectious intensity. the second great commandment, "thou shall love thy neighbour as thyself," had not indeed been forgotten by | | mediaeval christianity; the common life of monasticism was an attempt to fulfil it; yet for the monk love to man was often rather a duty than a passion. but to st. francis love was very life; he loved not by duty but by an inner compulsion, and his burning love of god and man found its centre in the god-man, christ jesus. for no saint, perhaps, has the earthly life of christ been the object of such passionate devotion as for st. francis; the stigmata were the awful, yet, to his contemporaries, glorious fruit of his meditations on the passion; and of the ecstasy with which he kept his christmas at greccio we shall read when we come to consider the _presepio_. he had a peculiar affection for the festival of the holy child; "the child jesus," says thomas of celano, "had been given over to forgetfulness in the hearts of many in whom, by the working of his grace, he was raised up again through his servant francis."{ } to the early middle ages christ was the awful judge, the _rex tremendae majestatis_, though also the divine bringer of salvation from sin and eternal punishment, and, to the mystic, the bridegroom of the soul. to francis he was the little brother of all mankind as well. it was a new human joy that came into religion with him. his essentially artistic nature was the first to realize the full poetry of christmas--the coming of infinity into extremest limitation, the highest made the lowliest, the king of all kings a poor infant. he had, in a supreme degree, the mingled reverence and tenderness that inspire the best carols. though no christmas verses by st. francis have come down to us, there is a beautiful "psalm" for christmas day at vespers, composed by him partly from passages of scripture. a portion of father paschal robinson's translation may be quoted:-- "rejoice to god our helper. shout unto god, living and true, with the voice of triumph. for the lord is high, terrible: a great king over all the earth. for the most holy father of heaven, | | our king, before ages sent his beloved son from on high, and he was born of the blessed virgin, holy mary. * * * * * this is the day which the lord hath made: let us rejoice and be glad in it. for the beloved and most holy child has been given to us and born for us by the wayside. and laid in a manger because he had no room in the inn. glory to god in the highest: and on earth peace to men of good will."{ } [illustration: jacopone in ecstasy before the virgin. from "laude di frate jacopone da todi" (florence, ).] it is in the poetry of jacopone da todi, born shortly after the death of st. francis, that the franciscan christmas spirit finds its most intense expression. a wild, wandering ascetic, an impassioned poet, and a soaring mystic, jacopone is one of the greatest of christian singers, unpolished as his verses are. noble by birth, he made himself utterly as the common people for whom he piped his rustic notes. "dio fatto piccino" ("god made a little thing") is the keynote of his music; the christ child is for him "our sweet little brother"; with tender affection he rejoices in endearing diminutives--"bambolino," "piccolino," "jesulino." he sings of the nativity with extraordinary realism.[ ] here, in words, is a picture of the madonna and her child that might well have inspired an early tuscan artist:-- "veggiamo il suo bambino gammettare nel fieno, e le braccia scoperte porgere ad ella in seno, | | ed essa lo ricopre el meglio che può almeno, mettendoli la poppa entro la sua bocchina. * * * * * a la sua man manca, cullava lo bambino, e con sante carole nenciava il suo amor fino.... gli angioletti d' intorno se ne gian danzando, facendo dolci versi e d' amor favellando."[ ]{ } but there is an intense sense of the divine, as well as the human, in the holy babe; no one has felt more vividly the paradox of the incarnation:-- "ne la degna stalla del dolce bambino gli angeli cantano d' intorno al piccolino; cantano e gridano gli angeli diletti, tutti riverenti timidi e subietti, | | al bambolino principe de gli eletti, che nudo giace nel pungente spino. * * * * * il verbo divino, che è sommo sapiente, in questo dì par che non sappia niente, guardal su' l fieno, che gambetta piangente, como elli non fusse huomo divino."[ ]{ } here, again, are some sweet and homely lines about preparation for the infant saviour:-- "andiamo a lavare la casa a nettare, che non trovi bruttura. poi el menaremo, et gli daremo ben da ber' e mangiare. un cibo espiato, et d' or li sia dato senza alcuna dimura. lo cor adempito dagiamoli fornito senza odio ne rancura."[ ]{ } | | there have been few more rapturous poets than jacopone; men deemed him mad; but, "if he is mad," says a modern italian writer, "he is mad as the lark"--"nessun poeta canta a tutta gola come questo frate minore. s' è pazzo, è pazzo come l' allodola." to him is attributed that most poignant of latin hymns, the "stabat mater dolorosa"; he wrote also a joyous christmas pendant to it:-- "stabat mater speciosa, juxta foenum gaudiosa, dum jacebat parvulus. cujus animam gaudentem, laetabundam ac ferventem, pertransivit jubilus."[ ]{ } in the fourteenth century we find a blossoming forth of christmas poetry in another land, germany.{ } there are indeed christmas and epiphany passages in a poetical life of christ by otfrid of weissenburg in the ninth century, and a twelfth-century poem by spervogel, "er ist gewaltic unde starc," opens with a mention of christmas, but these are of little importance for us. the fourteenth century shows the first real outburst, and that is traceable, in part at least, to the mystical movement in the rhineland caused by the preaching of the great dominican, eckhart of strasburg, and his followers. it was a movement towards inward piety as distinguished from, though not excluding, external observances, which made its way largely by sermons listened to by great congregations in the towns. its impulse came not from the monasteries proper, but from the convents of dominican friars, and it was for germany in the fourteenth century something like what franciscanism had been for italy in the thirteenth. one of the central doctrines of the school | | was that of the divine birth in the soul of the believer; according to eckhart the soul comes into immediate union with god by "bringing forth the son" within itself; the historic christ is the symbol of the divine humanity to which the soul should rise: "when the soul bringeth forth the son," he says, "it is happier than mary."{ } several christmas sermons by eckhart have been preserved; one of them ends with the prayer, "to this birth may that god, who to-day is new born as man, bring us, that we, poor children of earth, may be born in him as god; to this may he bring us eternally! amen."{ } with this profound doctrine of the divine birth, it was natural that the german mystics should enter deeply into the festival of christmas, and one of the earliest of german christmas carols, "es komt ein schif geladen," is the work of eckhart's disciple, john tauler (d. ). it is perhaps an adaptation of a secular song:-- "a ship comes sailing onwards with a precious freight on board; it bears the only son of god, it bears the eternal word." the doctrine of the mystics, "die in order to live," fills the last verses:-- "whoe'er would hope in gladness to kiss this holy child, must suffer many a pain and woe, patient like him and mild; must die with him to evil and rise to righteousness, that so with christ he too may share eternal life and bliss."{ } to the fourteenth century may perhaps belong an allegorical carol still sung in both catholic and protestant germany:-- "es ist ein ros entsprungen aus einer wurzel zart, | | als uns die alten sungen, von jesse kam die art, und hat ein blümlein bracht, mitten im kalten winter, wohl zu der halben nacht. das röslein, das ich meine, davon jesajas sagt, hat uns gebracht alleine marie, die reine magd. aus gottes ew'gem rat hat sie ein kind geboren wohl zu der halben nacht."[ ]{ } in a fourteenth-century life of the mystic heinrich suso it is told how one day angels came to him to comfort him in his sufferings, how they took him by the hand and led him to dance, while one began a glad song of the child jesus, "in dulci jubilo." to the fourteenth century, then, dates back that most delightful of german carols, with its interwoven lines of latin. i may quote the fine scots translation in the "godlie and spirituall sangis" of :-- "_in dulci jubilo_, now lat us sing with myrth and jo our hartis consolatioun lyis _in praesepio_, and schynis as the sone, _matris in gremio_, _alpha es et o, alpha es et o._ _o jesu parvule!_ i thrist sore efter thé, | | confort my hart and mynde, _o puer optime_, god of all grace sa kynde, _et princeps gloriae_ _trahe me post te, trahe me post te_. _ubi sunt gaudia_, in ony place bot thair, quhair that the angellis sing _nova cantica_, bot and the bellis ring _in regis curia_, god gif i war thair, god gif i war thair."{ } the music of "in dulci jubilo"[ ] has, with all its religious feeling, something of the nature of a dance, and unites in a strange fashion solemnity, playfulness, and ecstatic delight. no other air, perhaps, shows so perfectly the reverent gaiety of the carol spirit. the fifteenth century produced a realistic type of german carol. here is the beginning of one such:-- "da jesu krist geboren wart, do was es kalt; in ain klaines kripplein er geleget wart. da stunt ain esel und ain rint, die atmizten über das hailig kint gar unverborgen. der ain raines herze hat, der darf nit sorgen."[ ]{ } it goes on to tell in naïve language the story of the wanderings of the holy family during the flight into egypt. this carol type lasted, and continued to develop, in austria and the catholic parts of germany through the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries, and even in the nineteenth. in carinthia in the early nineteenth century, almost every parish had its local poet, who added new songs to the old treasury.{ } particularly popular were the _hirtenlieder_ or shepherd songs, in which the peasant worshippers joined themselves to the shepherds of bethlehem, and sought to share their devout | | emotions. often these carols are of the most rustic character and in the broadest dialect. they breathe forth a great kindliness and homeliness, and one could fill pages with quotations. two more short extracts must, however, suffice to show their quality. how warm and hearty is their feeling for the child:-- "du herzliabste muater, gib acht auf dös kind, es is ja gar frostig, thuas einfatschen gschwind. und du alter voda, decks kindlein schen zua, sonst hats von der kölden und winden kan ruah. hiazt nemen mir urlaub, o gettliches kind, thua unser gedenken, verzeich unser sünd. es freut uns von herzen dass d'ankomen bist; es hätt uns ja niemand zu helfen gewist."[ ]{ } and what fatherly affection is here:-- "das kind is in der krippen glögn, so herzig und so rar! mei klâner hansl war nix dgögn, wenn a glei schener war. kolschwarz wie d'kirchen d'augen sein, sunst aber kreidenweiss; die händ so hübsch recht zart und fein, i hans angrürt mit fleiss. aft hats auf mi an schmutza gmacht, an höscheza darzue; o warst du mein, hoan i gedacht, werst wol a munter bue. dahoam in meiner kachelstub liess i brav hoazen ein, do in den stâl kimt überâl der kalte wind herein."[ ]{ } | | we have been following on german ground a mediaeval tradition that has continued unbroken down to modern days; but we must now take a leap backward in time, and consider the beginnings of the christmas carol in england. not till the fifteenth century is there any outburst of christmas poetry in english, though other forms of religious lyrics were produced in considerable numbers in the thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries. when the carols come at last, they appear in the least likely of all places, at the end of a versifying of the whole duty of man, by john awdlay, a blind chaplain of haghmon, in shropshire. in red letters he writes:-- "i pray you, sirus, boothe moore and lase, sing these caroles in cristëmas," and then follows a collection of twenty-five songs, some of which are genuine christmas carols, as one now understands the word.{ } a carol, in the modern english sense, may perhaps be defined as a religious song, less formal and solemn than the ordinary church hymn--an expression of popular and often naïve devotional feeling, a thing intended to be sung outside rather than within church walls. there still linger about the word some echoes of its original meaning, for "carol" had at first a secular or even pagan significance: in twelfth-century france it was used to describe the amorous song-dance which hailed the coming of spring; in italian it meant a ring- or song-dance; while by english writers from the thirteenth to the sixteenth century it was used chiefly of singing joined with dancing, and had no necessary connection with religion. much as the mediaeval church, with its ascetic tendencies, disliked religious dancing, it could not always suppress it; and in germany, as we shall see, there was choral dancing at christmas round the cradle of the christ child. whether christmas carols were ever danced to in england | | is doubtful; many of the old airs and words have, however, a glee and playfulness as of human nature following its natural instincts of joy even in the celebration of the most sacred mysteries. it is probable that some of the carols are religious parodies of love-songs, written for the melodies of the originals, and many seem by their structure to be indirectly derived from the choral dances of farm folk, a notable feature being their burden or refrain, a survival of the common outcry of the dancers as they leaped around. awdlay's carols are perhaps meant to be sung by "wassailing neighbours, who make their rounds at christmastide to drink a cup and take a gift, and bring good fortune upon the house"{ }--predecessors of those carol-singers of rural england in the nineteenth century, whom mr. hardy depicts so delightfully in "under the greenwood tree." carol-singing by a band of men who go from house to house is probably a christianization of such heathen processions as we shall meet in less altered forms in part ii. it must not be supposed that the carols awdlay gives are his own work; and their exact date it is impossible to determine. part of his book was composed in , but one at least of the carols was probably written in the last half of the fourteenth century. they seem indeed to be the later blossomings of the great springtime of english literature, the period which produced chaucer and langland, an innumerable company of minstrels and ballad-makers, and the mystical poet, richard rolle of hampole.[ ] through the fifteenth century and the first half of the sixteenth, the flowering continued; and something like two hundred carols of this period are known. it is impossible to attempt here anything like representative quotation; i can only sketch in | | roughest outline the main characteristics of english carol literature, and refer the reader for examples to miss edith rickert's comprehensive collection, "ancient english carols, mcccc-mdcc," or to the smaller but fine selection in messrs. e. k. chambers and f. sidgwick's "early english lyrics." many may have been the work of _goliards_ or wandering scholars, and a common feature is the interweaving of latin with english words. some, like the exquisite "i sing of a maiden that is makeles,"{ } are rather songs to or about the virgin than strictly christmas carols; the annunciation rather than the nativity is their theme. others again tell the whole story of christ's life. the feudal idea is strong in such lines as these:-- "mary is quene of allë thinge, and her sone a lovely kinge. god graunt us allë good endinge! _regnat dei gracia_."{ } on the whole, in spite of some mystical exceptions, the mediaeval english carol is somewhat external in its religion; there is little deep individual feeling; the caroller sings as a member of the human race, whose curse is done away, whose nature is exalted by the incarnation, rather than as one whose soul is athirst for god:-- "now man is brighter than the sonne; now man in heven an hie shall wonne; blessëd be god this game is begonne and his moder emperesse of helle."{ } salvation is rather an objective external thing than an inward and spiritual process. a man has but to pray devoutly to the dear mother and child, and they will bring him to the heavenly court. it is not so much personal sin as an evil influence in humanity, that is cured by the great event of christmas:-- "it was dark, it was dim, for men that levëd in gret sin; lucifer was all within, till on the cristmes day. | | there was weping, there was wo, for every man to hell gan go. it was litel mery tho, till on the cristmes day."{ } but now that christ is born, and man redeemed, one may be blithe indeed:-- "jhesus is that childës name, maide and moder is his dame, and so oure sorow is turned to game. _gloria tibi domine._ * * * * * now sitte we downe upon our knee, and pray that child that is so free; and with gode hertë now sing we _gloria tibi domine_."{ } sometimes the religious spirit almost vanishes, and the carol becomes little more than a gay pastoral song:-- "the shepard upon a hill he satt; he had on him his tabard and his hat, his tar-box, his pipe, and his flagat; his name was called joly joly wat, for he was a gud herdës boy. ut hoy! for in his pipe he made so much joy. * * * * * whan wat to bedlem cum was, he swet, he had gone faster than a pace; he found jesu in a simpell place, betwen an ox and an asse. ut hoy! for in his pipe he made so much joy. 'jesu, i offer to thee here my pipe, my skirt, my tar-box, and my scripe; home to my felowes now will i skipe, and also look unto my shepe.' ut hoy! for in his pipe he made so much joy."{ } | | but to others again, especially the lullabies, the hardness of the nativity, the shadow of the coming passion, give a deep note of sorrow and pathos; there is the thought of the sword that shall pierce mary's bosom:-- "this endris night i saw a sight, a maid a cradell kepe, and ever she song and seid among 'lullay, my child, and slepe.' 'i may not slepe, but i may wepe, i am so wo begone; slepe i wold, but i am colde and clothës have i none. * * * * * 'adam's gilt this man had spilt; that sin greveth me sore. man, for thee here shall i be thirty winter and more. * * * * * 'here shall i be hanged on a tree, and die as it is skill. that i have bought lesse will i nought; it is my fader's will.'"{ } the lullabies are quite the most delightful, as they are the most human, of the carols. here is an exquisitely musical verse from one of :-- "in a dream late as i lay, methought i heard a maiden say and speak these words so mild: 'my little son, with thee i play, and come,' she sang, 'by, lullaby.' thus rockëd she her child. _by-by, lullaby, by-by, lullaby,_ _rockëd i my child._ _by-by, by-by, by-by, lullaby,_ _rockëd i my child._"{ } | | | | | | | | chapter iii christmas poetry (ii) the french _noël_--latin hymnody in eighteenth-century france--spanish christmas verse--traditional carols of many countries--christmas poetry in protestant germany--post-reformation verse in england--modern english carols. [illustration: the adoration of the shepherds. _by fouquet._ (musée condé, chantilly.)] the reformation marks a change in the character of christmas poetry in england and the larger part of germany, and, instead of following its development under protestantism, it will be well to break off and turn awhile to countries where catholic tradition remained unbroken. we shall come back later to post-reformation england and protestant germany. in french{ } there is little or no christmas poetry, religious in character, before the fifteenth century; the earlier carols that have come down to us are songs rather of feasting and worldly rejoicing than of sacred things. the true _noël_ begins to appear in fifteenth-century manuscripts, but it was not till the following century that it attained its fullest vogue and was spread all over the country by the printing presses. such _noëls_ seem to have been written by clerks or recognized poets, either for old airs or for specially composed music. "to a great extent," says mr. gregory smith, "they anticipate the spirit which stimulated the reformers to turn the popular and often obscene songs into good and godly ballads."{ } some of the early _noëls_ are not unlike the english carols of the period, and are often half in latin, half in french. here are a few such "macaronic" verses:-- "célébrons la naissance _nostri salvatoris_, | | qui fait la complaisance _dei sui patris_. cet enfant tout aimable, _in nocte mediâ_, est né dans une étable, _de castâ mariâ_. * * * * * mille esprits angéliques, _juncti pastoribus_, chantent dans leur musique, _puer vobis natus_, au dieu par qui nous sommes, _gloria in excelsis_, et la paix soit aux hommes _bonae voluntatis_. * * * * * qu'on ne soit insensible! _adeamus omnes_ a dieu rendu passible, _propter nos mortales_, et tous, de compagnie, _deprecemur eum_ qu'à la fin de la vie, _det regnum beatum_."{ } the sixteenth century is the most interesting _noël_ period; we find then a conflict of tendencies, a conflict between gallic realism and broad humour and the love of refined language due to the study of the ancient classics. there are many anonymous pieces of this time, but three important _noëlistes_ stand out by name: lucas le moigne, curé of saint georges, puy-la-garde, near poitiers; jean daniel, called "maître mitou," a priest-organist at nantes; and nicholas denisot of le mans, whose _noëls_ appeared posthumously under the pseudonym of "comte d'alsinoys." lucas le moigne represents the _esprit gaulois_, the spirit that is often called "rabelaisian," though it is only one side of the genius of rabelais. the good curé was a contemporary of | | the author of "pantagruel." his "chansons de noëls nouvaulx" was published in , and contains carols in very varied styles, some naïve and pious, others hardly quotable at the present day. one of his best-known pieces is a dialogue between the virgin and the singers of the carol: mary is asked and answers questions about the wondrous happenings of her life. here are four verses about the nativity:-- "or nous dites, marie, les neuf mois accomplis, naquit le fruit de vie, comme l'ange avoit dit? --oui, sans nulle peine et sans oppression, naquit de tout le monde la vraie rédemption. or nous dites, marie, du lieu impérial, fut-ce en chambre parée, ou en palais royal? --en une pauvre étable ouverte à l'environ ou n'avait feu, ni flambe ni latte, ni chevron. or nous dites, marie, qui vous vint visiter; les bourgeois de la ville vous ont-ils confortée? --oncque, homme ni femme n'en eut compassion, non plus que d'un esclave d'étrange région. * * * * * or nous dites, marie, des pauvres pastoureaux qui gardaient ès montagnes leurs brebis & aigneaux. | | --ceux-là m'ont visitée par grande affection; moult me fut agréable leur visitation."{ } the influence of the "pléiade," with its care for form, its respect for classical models, its enrichment of the french tongue with new latin words, is shown by jean daniel, who also owes something to the poets of the late fifteenth century. two stanzas may be quoted from him:-- "c'est ung très grant mystère qu'ung roy de si hault pris vient naistre en lieu austère, en si meschant pourpris: le roy de tous les bons espritz, c'est jésus nostre frère, le roy de tous les bons espritz, duquel sommes apris. saluons le doulx jésuchrist, notre dieu, notre frère, saluons le doulx jésuchrist, chantons noel d'esprit! * * * * * en luy faisant prière, soyons de son party, qu'en sa haulte emperière ayons lieu de party; comme il nous a droict apparty, jésus nostre bon frère, comme il nous a droict apparty au céleste convy. saluons, etc. amen. noel."{ } as for denisot, i may give two charming verses from one of his pastorals:-- "suz, bergiez, en campaigne, laissez là vos troppeaux, | | avant qu'on s'accompaigne, enflez vos chalumeaux. * * * * * enflez vos cornemuses, dansez ensemblement, et vos doucettes muses, accollez doucement."{ } one result of the italian influences which came over france in the sixteenth century was a fondness for diminutives. introduced into carols, these have sometimes a very graceful effect:-- "entre le boeuf & le bouvet, noel nouvellet, voulust jésus nostre maistre, en un petit hostelet, noel nouvellet, en ce pauvre monde naistre, o noel nouvellet! ne couche, ne bercelet, noel nouvellet, ne trouvèrent en cette estre, fors ung petit drappelet, noel nouvellet, pour envelopper le maistre, o noel nouvellet!"{ } these diminutives are found again, though fewer, in a particularly delightful carol:-- "laissez paître vos bestes pastoureaux, par monts et par vaux; laissez paître vos bestes, et allons chanter nau. j'ai ouï chanter le rossignol, qui chantoit un chant si nouveau, si haut, si beau, si résonneau, | | il m'y rompoit la tête, tant il chantoit et flageoloit: adonc pris ma houlette pour aller voir naulet. laissez paître, etc."{ } the singer goes on to tell how he went with his fellow-shepherds and shepherdesses to bethlehem:-- "nous dîmes tous une chanson les autres en vinrent au son, chacun prenant son compagnon: je prendrai guillemette, margot tu prendras gros guillot; qui prendra péronelle? ce sera talebot. laissez paître, etc. ne chantons plus, nous tardons trop, pensons d'aller courir le trot. viens-tu, margot?-- j'attends guillot.-- j'ai rompu ma courette, il faut ramancher mon sabot.-- or, tiens cette aiguillette, elle y servira trop. laissez paître, etc. * * * * * nous courumes de grand' roideur pour voir notre doux rédempteur et créateur et formateur, qui était tendre d'aage et sans linceux en grand besoin, il gisait en la crêche sur un botteau de foin. laissez paître, etc. | | sa mère avecque lui était: et joseph si lui éclairait, point ne semblait au beau fillet, il n'était point son père; je l'aperçus bien au cameau (_visage_) il semblait à sa mère, encore est-il plus beau. laissez paître, etc." this is but one of a large class of french _noëls_ which make the nativity more real, more present, by representing the singer as one of a company of worshippers going to adore the child. often these are shepherds, but sometimes they are simply the inhabitants of a parish, a town, a countryside, or a province, bearing presents of their own produce to the little jesus and his parents. barrels of wine, fish, fowls, sucking-pigs, pastry, milk, fruit, firewood, birds in a cage--such are their homely gifts. often there is a strongly satiric note: the peculiarities and weaknesses of individuals are hit off; the reputation of a place is suggested, a village whose people are famous for their stinginess offers cider that is half rain-water; elsewhere the inhabitants are so given to law-suits that they can hardly find time to go to bethlehem. such _noëls_ with their vivid local colour, are valuable pictures of the manners of their time. they are, unfortunately, too long for quotation here, but any reader who cares to follow up the subject will find some interesting specimens in a little collection of french carols that can be bought for ten _centimes_.{ } they are of various dates; some probably were written as late as the eighteenth century. in that century, and indeed in the seventeenth, the best christmas verses are those of a provincial and rustic character, and especially those in _patois_; the more cultivated poets, with their formal classicism, can ill enter into the spirit of the festival. of the learned writers the best is a woman, françoise paschal, of lyons (b. about ); in spite of her latinity she shows a real feeling for her subjects. some of her _noëls_ are dialogues between the sacred personages; one presents | | joseph and mary as weary wayfarers seeking shelter at all the inns of bethlehem and everywhere refused by host or hostess:-- "_saint joseph._ voyons la _rose-rouge_. madame de céans, auriez-vous quelque bouge pour de petites gens? _l'hôtesse._ vous n'avez pas la mine d'avoir de grands trésors; voyez chez ma voisine, car, quant à moi, je dors. _saint joseph._ monsieur des _trois-couronnes_, avez-vous logement, chez vous pour trois personnes, quelque trou seulement. _l'hôte._ vous perdez votre peine, vous venez un peu tard, ma maison est fort pleine, allez quelqu'autre part."{ } the most remarkable of the _patois noëlistes_ of the seventeenth century are the provençal saboly and the burgundian la monnoye, the one kindly and tender, the other witty and sarcastic. here is one of saboly's provençal _noëls_:-- "quand la mièjonue sounavo, ai sautà dóu liech au sòu; ai vist un bèl ange que cantavo milo fes pu dous qu'un roussignòu. lei mastin dóu vesinage se soun toutes atroupa; | | n'avien jamai vist aquéu visage se soun tout-d'un-cop mes à japa. lei pastre dessus la paio dourmien coume de soucas; quand an aussi lou bru dei sounaio au cresegu qu'ero lou souiras. s'eron de gent resounable, vendrien sèns èstre envita: trouvarien dins un petit estable la lumiero emai la verita."[ ]{ } as for la monnoye, here is a translation of one of his satirical verses:--"when in the time of frost jesus christ came into the world the ass and ox warmed him with their breath in the stable. how many asses and oxen i know in this kingdom of gaul! how many asses and oxen i know who would not have done as much!"{ } * * * * * apart from the rustic _noëls_, the eighteenth century produced little french christmas poetry of any charm. some of the carols most sung in french churches to-day belong, however, to this period, _e.g._, the "venez, divin messie" of the abbé pellegrin.{ } * * * * * one cannot leave the france of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries without some mention of its latin hymnody. from a date near , apparently, comes the sweet and solemn "adeste, fideles"; by its music and its rhythm, perhaps, rather than by its actual words it has become the best beloved of christmas hymns. the present writer has heard it sung with equal reverence and heartiness in english, german, french, and italian churches, and no other hymn seems so full of the spirit of christmas devotion--wonder, | | awe, and tenderness, and the sense of reconciliation between heaven and earth. composed probably in france, "adeste, fideles" came to be used in english as well as french roman catholic churches during the eighteenth century. in it was sung at the chapel of the portuguese embassy in london; hence no doubt its once common name of "portuguese hymn." it was first used in an anglican church in , when the tractarian oakley translated it for his congregation at margaret street chapel, london. another fine latin hymn of the eighteenth-century french church is charles coffin's "jam desinant suspiria."{ } it appeared in the parisian breviary in , and is well known in english as "god from on high hath heard." * * * * * the revolution and the decay of catholicism in france seem to have killed the production of popular carols. the later nineteenth century, however, saw a revival of interest in the _noël_ as a literary form. in the bicentenary of saboly's death was celebrated by a competition for a _noël_ in the provençal tongue, and something of the same kind has been done in brittany.{ } the _noël_ has attracted by its aesthetic charm even poets who are anything but devout; théophile gautier, for instance, wrote a graceful christmas carol, "le ciel est noir, la terre est blanche." on a general view of the vernacular christmas poetry of france it must be admitted that the devotional note is not very strong; there is indeed a formal reverence, a courtly homage, paid to the infant saviour, and the miraculous in the gospel story is taken for granted; but there is little sense of awe and mystery. in harmony with the realistic instincts of the nation, everything is dramatically, very humanly conceived; at times, indeed, the personages of the nativity scenes quite lose their sacred character, and the treatment degenerates into grossness. at its best, however, the french _noël_ has a gaiety and a grace, joined to a genuine, if not very deep, piety, that are extremely charming. reading these rustic songs, we are carried in imagination to french countrysides; we think of the long walk through the snow to the midnight mass, the cheerful _réveillon_ spread on the | | return, the family gathered round the hearth, feasting on wine and chestnuts and _boudins_, and singing in traditional strains the joys of _noël_. * * * * * across the pyrenees, in spain, the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries saw a great output of christmas verse. among the chief writers were juan lópez de ubeda, francisco de ocaña, and josé de valdivielso.{ } their _villancicos_ remind one of the paintings of murillo; they have the same facility, the same tender and graceful sentiment, without much depth. they lack the homely flavour, the quaintness that make the french and german folk-carols so delightful; they have not the rustic tang, and yet they charm by their simplicity and sweetness. here are a few stanzas by ocaña:-- "dentro de un pobre pesebre y cobijado con heno yace jesus nazareno. en el heno yace echado el hijo de dios eterno, para librar del infierno al hombre que hubo criado, y por matar el pecado el heno tiene por bueno nuestro jesus nazareno. está entre dos animales que le calientan del frio, quien remedia nuestros males con su grande poderío: es su reino y señorío el mundo y el cielo sereno, y agora duerme en el heno. tiene por bueno sufrir el frio y tanta fortuna, sin tener ropa ninguna con que se abrigar ni cubrir, | | y por darnos el vivir padeció frio en el heno, nuestro jesus nazareno."[ ]{ } more of a peasant flavour is found in some snatches of christmas carols given by fernan caballero in her sketch, "la noche de navidad." "ha nacido en un portal, llenito de telarañas, entre la mula y el buey el redentor de las almas. * * * * * en el portal de belen hay estrella, sol y luna: la virgen y san josé y el niño que está en la cuna. en belen tocan á fuego, del portal sale la llama, es una estrella del cielo, que ha caido entre la paja. yo soy un pobre gitano que vengo de egipto aquí, y al niño de dios le traigo un gallo quiquiriquí yo soy un pobre gallego que vengo de la galicia, y al niño de dios le traigo lienzo para una camisa. | | al niño recien nacido todos le traen un don; yo soy chico y nada tengo; le traigo mi corazon."[ ]{ } in nearly every western language one finds traditional christmas carols. europe is everywhere alive with them; they spring up like wild flowers. some interesting italian specimens are given by signor de gubernatis in his "usi natalizi." here are a few stanzas from a bergamesque cradle-song of the blessed virgin:-- "dormi, dormi, o bel bambin, re divin. dormi, dormi, o fantolin. fa la nanna, o caro figlio, re del ciel, tanto bel, grazioso giglio. chiüdi i lümi, o mio tesor, dolce amor, di quest' alma, almo signor; fa la nanna, o regio infante, sopra il fien, caro ben, celeste amante. perchè piangi, o bambinell, forse il giel ti dà noia, o l'asinell? fa la nanna, o paradiso del mio cor, redentor, ti bacio il viso."[ ]{ } | | with this lullaby may be compared a singularly lovely and quite untranslatable latin cradle-song of unknown origin:-- "dormi, fili, dormi! mater cantat unigenito: dormi, puer, dormi! pater, nato clamat parvulo: millies tibi laudes canimus mille, mille, millies. lectum stravi tibi soli, dormi, nate bellule! stravi lectum foeno molli: dormi, mi animule. millies tibi laudes canimus mille, mille, millies. ne quid desit, sternam rosis, sternam foenum violis, pavimentum hyacinthis et praesepe liliis. millies tibi laudes canimus mille, mille, millies. | | si vis musicam, pastores convocabo protinus; illis nulli sunt priores; nemo canit castius. millies tibi laudes canimus mille, mille, millies."{ } curious little poems are found in latin and other languages, making a dialogue of the cries of animals at the news of christ's birth.{ } the following french example is fairly typical:-- "comme les bestes autrefois parloient mieux latin que françois, le coq, de loin voyant le fait, s'écria: _christus natus est._ le boeuf, d'un air tout ébaubi, demande: _ubi? ubi? ubi?_ la chèvre, se tordant le groin, répond que c'est à _béthléem_. maistre baudet, _curiosus_ de l'aller voir, dit: _eamus_; et, droit sur ses pattes, le veau beugle deux fois: _volo, volo!_"[ ]{ } in wales, in the early nineteenth century, carol-singing was more popular, perhaps, than in england; the carols were sung to the harp, in church at the _plygain_ or early morning service on christmas day, in the homes of the people, and at the doors of the houses by visitors.{ } in ireland, too, the custom of carol-singing then prevailed.{ } dr. douglas hyde, in his "religious songs of connacht," gives and translates an interesting christmas hymn in irish, from which two verses may be quoted. they set forth the great paradox of the incarnation:-- "little babe who art so great, child so young who art so old, | | in the manger small his room, whom not heaven itself could hold. father--not more old than thou? mother--younger, can it be? older, younger is the son, younger, older, she than he."{ } even in dour scotland, with its hatred of religious festivals, some kind of carolling survived here and there among highland folk, and a remarkable and very "celtic" christmas song has been translated from the gaelic by mr. j. a. campbell. it begins:-- "sing hey the gift, sing ho the gift, sing hey the gift of the living, son of the dawn, son of the star, son of the planet, son of the far [twice], sing hey the gift, sing ho the gift."{ } [illustration: the flight into egypt: the rest by the way master of the seven sorrows of mary (also attributed to joachim patinir) (_vienna: imperial gallery_)] [illustration: singing "vom himmel hoch" from a church tower at christmas. _by ludwig richter._] before i close this study with a survey of christmas poetry in england after the reformation, it may be interesting to follow the developments in protestant germany. the reformation gave a great impetus to german religious song, and we owe to it some of the finest of christmas hymns. it is no doubt largely due to luther, that passionate lover of music and folk-poetry, that hymns have practically become the liturgy of german protestantism; yet he did but give typical expression to the natural instincts of his countrymen for song. luther, though a rebel, was no puritan; we can hardly call him an iconoclast; he had a conservative mind, which only gradually became loosened from its old attachments. his was an essentially artistic nature: "i would fain," he said, "see all arts, especially music, in the service of him who has given and created them," and in the matter of hymnody he continued, in many respects, the mediaeval german tradition. homely, kindly, a lover of children, he had a deep feeling for the festival of christmas; and not only did he translate into german "a solis ortus cardine" and "veni, redemptor | | gentium," but he wrote for his little son hans one of the most delightful and touching of all christmas hymns--"vom himmel hoch, da komm ich her." "vom himmel hoch, da komm ich her, ich bring euch gute neue mär, der guten mär bring ich so viel, davon ich singen und sagen will. euch ist ein kindlein heut gebor'n von einer jungfrau auserkor'n, ein kindelein so zart und fein, das soll eu'r freud und wonne sein. * * * * * merk auf, mein herz, und sich dort hin: was liegt doch in dem kripplein drin? wess ist das schöne kindelein? es ist das liebe jesulein. * * * * * ach herr, du schöpfer aller ding, wie bist du worden so gering, dass du da liegst auf dürrem gras, davon ein rind und esel ass? * * * * * ach, mein herzliebes jesulein, mach dir ein rein sanft bettelein, zu ruhen in mein's herzens schrein, dass ich nimmer vergesse dein. * * * * * davon ich allzeit fröhlich sei, zu springen, singen immer frei das rechte lied dem gottessohn mit herzenslust, den süssen ton."[ ]{ } | | "vom himmel hoch" has qualities of simplicity, directness, and warm human feeling which link it to the less ornate forms of carol literature. its first verse is adapted from a secular song; its melody may, perhaps, have been composed by luther himself. there is another christmas hymn of luther's, too--"vom himmel kam der engel schar"--written for use when "vom himmel hoch" was thought too long, and he also composed additional verses for the mediaeval "gelobet seist du, jesu christ." "gelobet seist du, jesu christ, dass du mensch geboren bist von einer jungfrau, das ist wahr, des freuet sich der engel schar. _kyrieleis!_ des ew'gen vaters einig kind jetzt man in der krippe find't, in unser armes fleisch und blut verkleidet sich das ewig gut. _kyrieleis!_ | | den aller weltkreis nie beschloss, der lieget in marie'n schoss; er ist ein kindlein worden klein, der alle ding' erhält allein. _kyrieleis!_"[ ]{ } the first stanza alone is mediaeval, the remaining six of the hymn are luther's. the christmas hymns of paul gerhardt, the seventeenth-century berlin pastor, stand next to luther's. they are more subjective, more finished, less direct and forcible. lacking the finest qualities of poetry, they are nevertheless impressive by their dignity and heartiness. made for music, the words alone hardly convey the full power of these hymns. they should be heard sung to the old chorales, massive, yet sweet, by the lusty voices of a german congregation. to english people they are probably best known through the verses introduced into the "christmas oratorio," where the old airs are given new beauty by bach's marvellous harmonies. the tone of devotion, one feels, in gerhardt and bach is the same, immeasurably greater as is the genius of the composer; in both there is a profound joy in the redemption begun by the nativity, a robust faith joined to a deep sense of the mystery of suffering, and a keen sympathy with childhood, a tender fondness for the infant king. | | the finest perhaps of gerhardt's hymns is the advent "wie soll ich dich empfangen?" ("how shall i fitly meet thee?"), which comes early in the "christmas oratorio." more closely connected with the nativity, however, are the _weihnachtslieder_, "wir singen dir, emanuel," "o jesu christ, dein kripplein ist," "fröhlich soll mein herze springen," "ich steh an deiner krippen hier," and others. i give a few verses from the third:-- "fröhlich soll mein herze springen dieser zeit, da für freud alle engel singen. hört, hört, wie mit vollen choren alle luft laute ruft: christus ist geboren. * * * * * nun, er liegt in seiner krippen, ruft zu sich mich und dich, spricht mit süssen lippen: lasset fahrn, o lieben brüder was euch quält, was euch fehlt; ich bring alles wieder. * * * * * süsses heil, lass dich umfangen; lass mich dir, meine zier, unverrückt anhangen. du bist meines lebens leben; nun kann ich mich durch dich wohl zufrieden geben."[ ]{ } | | one more german christmas hymn must be mentioned, gerhard tersteegen's "jauchzet, ihr himmel, frohlocket, ihr englischen chöre." tersteegen represents one phase of the mystical and emotional reaction against the religious formalism and indifference of the eighteenth century. in the lutheran church the pietists, though they never seceded, somewhat resembled the english methodists; the moravians formed a separate community, while from the "reformed" or calvinistic church certain circles of spiritually-minded people, who drew inspiration from the mediaeval mystics and later writers like böhme and madame guyon, gathered into more or less independent groups for religious intercourse. of these last tersteegen is a representative singer. here are three verses from his best known christmas hymn:-- "jauchzet, ihr himmel, frohlocket, ihr englischen chöre, singet dem herrn, dem heiland der menschen, zur ehre: sehet doch da! gott will so freundlich und nah zu den verlornen sich kehren. | | könig der ehren, aus liebe geworden zum kinde, dem ich auch wieder mein herz in der liebe verbinde; du sollst es sein, den ich erwähle allein, ewig entsag' ich der sünde. treuer immanuel, werd' auch in mir neu geboren; komm doch, mein heiland, und lass mich nicht länger verloren; wohne in mir, mach mich ganz eines mit dir, den du zum leben erkoren."[ ]{ } the note of personal religion, as distinguished from theological doctrine, is stronger in german christmas poetry than in that of any other nation--the birth of christ in the individual soul, not merely the redemption of man in general, is a central idea. * * * * * we come back at last to england. the great carol period is, as has already been said, the fifteenth, and the first half of the sixteenth, century; after the reformation the english domestic christmas largely loses its religious colouring, and the best carols of the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries are songs of | | feasting and pagan ceremonies rather than of the holy child and his mother. there is no lack of fine christmas verse in the elizabethan and early stuart periods, but for the most part it belongs to the oratory and the chamber rather than the hall. the nativity has become a subject for private contemplation, for individual devotion, instead of, as in the later middle ages, a matter for common jubilation, a wonder-story that really happened, in which, all alike and all together, the serious and the frivolous could rejoice, something that, with all its marvel, could be taken as a matter of course, like the return of the seasons or the rising of the sun on the just and on the unjust. english christmas poetry after the mid-sixteenth century is, then, individual rather than communal in its spirit; it is also a thing less of the people, more of the refined and cultivated few. the puritanism which so deeply affected english religion was abstract rather than dramatic in its conception of christianity, it was concerned less with the events of the saviour's life than with redemption as a transaction between god and man; st. paul and the old testament rather than the gospels were its inspiration. moreover, the material was viewed not as penetrated by and revealing the spiritual, but as sheer impediment blocking out the vision of spiritual things. hence the extremer puritans were completely out of touch with the sensuous poetry of christmas, a festival which, as we shall see, they actually suppressed when they came into power. the singing of sacred carols by country people continued, indeed, but the creative artistic impulse was lost. true carols after the reformation tend to be doggerel, and no doubt many of the traditional pieces printed in such collections as bramley and stainer's[ ]{ } are debased survivals from the middle ages, or perhaps new words written for old tunes. such carols as "god rest you merry, gentlemen," have unspeakably delightful airs, and the words charm us moderns by their quaintness and rusticity, but they are far from the exquisite loveliness of the mediaeval | | things. gleams of great beauty are, however, sometimes found amid matter that in the process of transmission has almost ceased to be poetry. here, for instance, are five stanzas from the traditional "cherry-tree carol":-- "as joseph was a-walking, he heard an angel sing: 'this night shall be born our heavenly king. 'he neither shall be born in housen nor in hall, nor in the place of paradise, but in an ox's stall. 'he neither shall be clothed in purple nor in pall, but all in fair linen as wear babies all. 'he neither shall be rocked in silver nor in gold, but in a wooden cradle that rocks on the mould. 'he neither shall be christened in white wine nor red, but with fair spring water with which we were christened.'" the old carols sung by country folk have often not much to do with the nativity; they are sometimes rhymed lives of christ or legends of the holy childhood. of the latter class the strangest is "the bitter withy," discovered in herefordshire by mr. frank sidgwick. it tells how the little jesus asked three lads to play with him at ball. but they refused:-- "'o we are lords' and ladies' sons, born in bower or in hall; and you are but a poor maid's child, born in an oxen's stall.' | | 'if i am but a poor maid's child, born in an oxen's stall, i will let you know at the very latter end that i am above you all.' so he built him a bridge with the beams of the sun, and over the sea went he, and after followed the three jolly jerdins, and drowned they were all three. then mary mild called home her child, and laid him across her knee, and with a handful of green withy twigs she gave him slashes three. 'o the withy, o the withy, o bitter withy that causes me to smart! o the withy shall be the very first tree that perishes at the heart.'" from these popular ballads, mediaeval memories in the rustic mind, we must return to the devotional verse of the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. two of the greatest poets of the nativity, the roman priests southwell and crashaw, are deeply affected by the wave of mysticism which passed over europe in their time. familiar as is southwell's "the burning babe," few will be sorry to find it here:-- "as i in hoary winter's night stood shivering in the snow, surprised i was with sudden heat, which made my heart to glow; and lifting up a fearful eye to view what fire was near, a pretty babe all burning bright did in the air appear; who, scorchèd with excessive heat, such floods of tears did shed, as though his floods should quench his flames which with his tears were fed. | | 'alas!' quoth he, 'but newly born, in fiery heats i fry, yet none approach to warm their hearts or feel my fire, but i! my faultless breast the furnace is, the fuel, wounding thorns; love is the fire, and sighs the smoke, the ashes, shame and scorns; the fuel justice layeth on, and mercy blows the coals, the metal in this furnace wrought are men's defilèd souls, for which, as now on fire i am, to work them to their good, so will i melt into a bath, to wash them in my blood.' with this he vanished out of sight, and swiftly shrunk away: and straight i callèd unto mind that it was christmas day."{ } as for crashaw, "that the great angel-blinding light should shrink his blaze to shine in a poor shepherd's eye, that the unmeasured god so low should sink as pris'ner in a few poor rags to lie, that from his mother's breast he milk should drink who feeds with nectar heaven's fair family, that a vile manger his low bed should prove who in a throne of stars thunders above: that he, whom the sun serves, should faintly peep through clouds of infant flesh; that he the old eternal word should be a child and weep, that he who made the fire should fear the cold: that heaven's high majesty his court should keep in a clay cottage, by each blast controll'd: that glory's self should serve our griefs and fears, and free eternity submit to years--"{ } such are the wondrous paradoxes celebrated in his glowing imagery. the contrast of the winter snow with the burning | | heat of incarnate love, of the blinding light of divinity with the night's darkness, indeed the whole paradox of the incarnation--infinity in extremest limitation--is nowhere realized with such intensity as by him. yet, magnificent as are his best lines, his verse sometimes becomes too like the seventeenth-century jesuit churches, with walls overladen with decoration, with great languorous pictures and air heavy with incense; and then we long for the dewy freshness of the early carols. the representative anglican poets of the seventeenth century, herbert and vaughan, scarcely rise to their greatest heights in their treatment of christmas, but with them as with the romanists it is the mystical note that is dominant. herbert sings:-- "o thou, whose glorious, yet contracted, light, wrapt in night's mantle, stole into a manger; since my dark soul and brutish is thy right, to man, of all beasts, be not thou a stranger. furnish and deck my soul, that thou may'st have a better lodging than a rack or grave."{ } and vaughan:-- "i would i had in my best part fit rooms for thee! or that my heart were so clean as thy manger was! but i am all filth, and obscene: yet, if thou wilt, thou canst make clean. sweet jesu! will then. let no more this leper haunt and soil thy door! cure him, ease him, o release him! and let once more, by mystic birth, the lord of life be born in earth."{ } in herrick--how different a country parson from herbert!--we find a sort of pagan piety towards the divine infant which, | | though purely english in its expression, makes us think of some french _noëliste_ or some present-day italian worshipper of the _bambino_:-- "instead of neat enclosures of interwoven osiers, instead of fragrant posies of daffodils and roses, thy cradle, kingly stranger, as gospel tells, was nothing else but here a homely manger. but we with silks not crewels, with sundry precious jewels, and lily work will dress thee; and, as we dispossess thee of clouts, we'll make a chamber, sweet babe, for thee, of ivory, and plaster'd round with amber."{ } poems such as herrick's to the babe of bethlehem reveal in their writers a certain childlikeness, an _insouciance_ without irreverence, the spirit indeed of a child which turns to its god quite simply and naturally, which makes him after its own child-image, and sees him as a friend who can be pleased with trifles--almost, in fact, as a glorious playmate. such a nature has no intense feeling of sin, but can ask for forgiveness and then forget; religion for it is rather an outward ritual to be duly and gracefully performed than an inward transforming power. herrick is a strange exception among the anglican singers of christmas. milton's great nativity hymn, with its wondrous blending of pastoral simplicity and classical conceits, is too familiar for quotation here; it may be suggested, however, that this work of the poet's youth is far more anglican than puritan in its spirit. sweet and solemn spenserian echoes are these verses from giles fletcher's "christ's victory in heaven":-- | | "who can forget--never to be forgot-- the time, that all the world in slumber lies, when, like the stars, the singing angels shot to earth, and heaven awakèd all his eyes to see another sun at midnight rise on earth? was never sight of pareil fame, for god before man like himself did frame, but god himself now like a mortal man became. a child he was, and had not learnt to speak, that with his word the world before did make; his mother's arms him bore, he was so weak, that with one hand the vaults of heaven could shake, see how small room my infant lord doth take, whom all the world is not enough to hold! who of his years, or of his age hath told? never such age so young, never a child so old."{ } the old lullaby tradition is continued by wither, though the infant in the cradle is an ordinary human child, who is rocked to sleep with the story of his lord:-- "a little infant once was he, and strength in weakness then was laid upon his virgin-mother's knee, that power to thee might be conveyed. sweet baby, then, forbear to weep; be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep. * * * * * within a manger lodged thy lord, where oxen lay and asses fed; warm rooms we do to thee afford, an easy cradle or a bed. sweet baby, then, forbear to weep; be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep."{ } when we come to the eighteenth century we find, where we might least expect it, among the moral verses of dr. watts, a charming cradle-song conceived in just the same way:-- | | "hush, my dear, lie still and slumber, holy angels guard thy bed! heavenly blessings without number gently falling on thy head. * * * * * soft and easy is thy cradle; coarse and hard thy saviour lay. when his birthplace was a stable, and his softest bed was hay. * * * * * lo he slumbers in his manger where the hornèd oxen fed; --peace, my darling, here's no danger; here's no ox a-near thy bed."{ } it is to the eighteenth century that the three most popular of english christmas hymns belong. nahum tate's "while shepherds watched their flocks by night"--one of the very few hymns (apart from metrical psalms) in common use in the anglican church before the nineteenth century--is a bald and apparently artless paraphrase of st. luke which, by some accident, has attained dignity, and is aided greatly by the simple and noble tune now attached to it. charles wesley's "hark, the herald angels sing," or--as it should be--"hark, how all the welkin rings," is much admired by some, but to the present writer seems a mere piece of theological rhetoric. byrom's "christians, awake, salute the happy morn," has the stiffness and formality or its period, but it is not without a certain quaintness and dignity. one could hardly expect fine christmas poetry of an age whose religion was on the one hand staid, rational, unimaginative, and on the other "evangelical" in the narrow sense, finding its centre in the atonement rather than the incarnation. the revived mediaevalism, religious and aesthetic, of the nineteenth century, produced a number of christmas carols. some, like swinburne's "three damsels in the queen's chamber," with | | its exquisite verbal music and delightful colour, and william morris's less successful "masters, in this hall," and "outlanders, whence come ye last?" are the work of unbelievers and bear witness only to the aesthetic charm of the christmas story; but there are others, mostly from roman or anglo-catholic sources, of real religious inspiration.[ ] the most spontaneous are christina rossetti's, whose haunting rhythms and delicate feeling are shown at their best in her songs of the christ child. more studied and self-conscious are the austere christmas verses of lionel johnson and the graceful carols of professor selwyn image. in one poem mr. image strikes a deeper and stronger note than elsewhere; its solemn music takes us back to an earlier century:-- "consider, o my soul, what morn is this! whereon the eternal lord of all things made, for us, poor mortals, and our endless bliss, came down from heaven; and, in a manger laid, the first, rich, offerings of our ransom paid: consider, o my soul, what morn is this!"{ } not a few contemporary poets have given us christmas carols or poems. among the freshest and most natural are those of katharine tynan, while mr. gilbert chesterton has written some christmas lyrics full of colour and vitality, and with a true mystical quality. singing of christmas, mr. chesterton is at his best; he has instinctive sympathy with the spirit of the festival, its human kindliness, its democracy, its sacramentalism, its exaltation of the child:-- "the thatch of the roof was as golden though dusty the straw was and old; the wind had a peal as of trumpets, though blowing and barren and cold. | | the mother's hair was a glory, though loosened and torn; for under the eaves in the gloaming a child was born."{ } thus opens a fine poem on the nativity as symbolizing miracle of birth, of childhood with its infinite possibilities, eternal renewal of faith and hope. | | | | | | chapter iv christmas in liturgy and popular devotion advent and christmas offices of the roman church--the three masses of christmas, their origin and their celebration in rome--the midnight mass in many lands--protestant survivals of the night services--christmas in the greek church--the eastern epiphany and the blessing of the waters--the _presepio_ or crib, its supposed institution by st. francis--early traces of the crib--the crib in germany, tyrol, &c.--cradle-rocking in mediaeval germany--christmas minstrels in italy and sicily--the _presepio_ in italy--ceremonies with the _culla_ and the _bambino_ in rome--christmas in italian london--the spanish christmas--possible survivals of the crib in england. [illustration: the nativity. from add. ms. in the british museum (french, th century).] from a study of christmas as reflected in lyric poetry, we now pass to other forms of devotion in which the church has welcomed the redeemer at his birth. these are of two kinds--liturgical and popular; and they correspond in a large degree to the successive ways of apprehending the meaning of christmas which we traced in the foregoing chapters. strictly liturgical devotions are little understanded of the people: only the clergy can fully join in them; for the mass of the lay folk they are mysterious rites in an unknown tongue, to be followed with reverence, as far as may be, but remote and little penetrated with humanity. side by side with these, however, are popular devotions, full of vivid colour, highly anthropomorphic, bringing the mysteries of religion within the reach of the simplest minds, and warm with human feeling. the austere latin hymns of the earlier centuries belong to liturgy; the vernacular christmas poetry of later ages is largely associated with popular devotion. | | liturgiology is a vast and complicated, and except to the few, an unattractive, subject. to attempt here a survey of the liturgies in their relation to christmas is obviously impossible; we must be content to dwell mainly upon the present-day roman offices, which, in spite of various revisions, give some idea of the mediaeval services of latin christianity, and to cast a few glances at other western rites, and at those of the greek church. whatever may be his attitude towards catholicism, or, indeed, christianity, no one sensitive to the music of words, or the suggestions of poetic imagery, can read the roman breviary and missal without profound admiration for the amazing skill with which the noblest passages of hebrew poetry are chosen and fitted to the expression of christian devotion, and the gold of psalmists, prophets, and apostles is welded into coronals for the lord and his saints. the office-books of the roman church are, in one aspect, the greatest of anthologies. few parts of the roman breviary have more beauty than the advent[ ] offices, where the church has brought together the majestic imagery of the hebrew prophets, the fervent exhortation of the apostles, to prepare the minds of the faithful for the coming of the christ, for the celebration of the nativity. advent begins with a stirring call. if we turn to the opening service of the christian year, the first vespers of the first sunday in advent, we shall find as the first words in the "proper of the season" the trumpet-notes of st. paul: "brethren, it is high time to awake out of sleep; for now is our salvation nearer than when we believed." this, the little chapter for the office, is followed by the ancient hymn, "creator alme siderum,"{ } chanting in awful tones the two comings of | | christ, for redemption and for judgment; and then are sung the words that strike the keynote of the advent services, and are heard again and again. "_rorate, coeli, desuper, et nubes pluant justum_ (drop down, ye heavens, from above, and let the skies pour down the righteous one). _aperiatur terra et germinet salvatorem_ (let the earth open, and let her bring forth the saviour)." _rorate, coeli, desuper_--advent is a time of longing expectancy. it is a season of waiting patiently for the lord, whose coming in great humility is to be commemorated at christmas, to whose coming again in his glorious majesty to judge both the quick and the dead the christian looks forward with mingled hope and awe. there are four weeks in advent, and an ancient symbolical explanation interprets these as typifying four comings of the son of god: the first in the flesh, the second in the hearts of the faithful through the holy spirit, the third at the death of every man, and the fourth at the judgment day. the fourth week is never completed (christmas eve is regarded as not part of advent), because the glory bestowed on the saints at the last coming will never end. the great eucharistic hymn, "gloria in excelsis," is omitted in advent, in order, say the symbolists, that on christmas night, when it was first sung by the angels, it may be chanted with the greater eagerness and devotion. the "te deum" at matins too is left unsaid, because christ is regarded as not yet come. but "alleluia" is not omitted, because advent is only half a time of penitence: there is awe at the thought of the coming for judgment, but joy also in the hope of the incarnation to be celebrated at christmas, and the glory in store for the faithful.{ } looking forward is above all things the note of advent; the church seeks to share the mood of the old testament saints, and she draws more now than at any other season, perhaps, on the treasures of hebrew prophecy for her lessons, antiphons, versicles, and responds. looking for the glory that shall be revealed, she awaits, at this darkest time of the year, the rising | | of the sun of righteousness. _rorate, coeli, desuper_--the mood comes at times to all idealists, and even those moderns who hope not for a supernatural redeemer, but for the triumph of social justice on this earth, must be stirred by the poetry of the advent offices. it is at vespers on the seven days before christmas eve that the church's longing finds its noblest expression--in the antiphons known as the "great o's," sung before and after the "magnificat," one on each day. "o sapientia," runs the first, "o wisdom, which camest out of the mouth of the most high, and reachest from one end to another, mightily and sweetly ordering all things: come and teach us the way of prudence." "o adonai," "o root of jesse," "o key of david," "o day-spring, brightness of light everlasting," "o king of the nations," thus the church calls to her lord, "o emmanuel, our king and lawgiver, the desire of all nations, and their salvation: come and save us, o lord our god."{ } at last christmas eve is here, and at vespers we feel the nearness of the great coming. "lift up your heads: behold your redemption draweth nigh," is the antiphon for the last psalm. "to-morrow shall be done away the iniquity of the earth," is the versicle after the office hymn. and before and after the "magnificat" the church sings: "when the sun shall have risen, ye shall see the king of kings coming forth from the father, as a bridegroom out of his chamber." yet only with the night office of matins does the glory of the festival begin. there is a special fitness at christmas in the church's keeping watch by night, like the shepherds of bethlehem, and the office is full of the poetry of the season, full of exultant joy. to the "venite, exultemus domino" a christmas note is added by the oft-repeated invitatory, "unto us the christ is born: o come, let us adore him." psalms follow--among them the three retained by the anglican church in her christmas matins--and lessons from the old and new testaments and the homilies of the fathers, interspersed with responsories bringing home to the faithful the wonders of the holy night. some are almost dramatic; this, for instance:-- | | "whom saw ye, o shepherds? speak; tell us who hath appeared on the earth. we saw the new-born child, and angels singing praise unto the lord. speak, what saw ye? and tell us of the birth of christ. we saw the new-born child, and angels singing praise unto the lord." it is the wonder of the incarnation, the marvel of the spotless birth, the song of the angels, the coming down from heaven of true peace, the daybreak of redemption and everlasting joy, the glory of the only-begotten, now beheld by men--the supernatural side, in fact, of the festival, that the church sets forth in her radiant words; there is little thought of the purely human side, the pathos of bethlehem. it was customary at certain places, in mediaeval times, to lay on the altar three veils, and remove one at each nocturn of christmas matins. the first was black, and symbolised the time of darkness before the mosaic law; the second white, typifying, it would seem, the faith of those who lived under that law of partial revelation; the third red, showing the love of christ's bride, the church, in the time of grace flowing from the incarnation.{ } a stately ceremony took place in england in the middle ages at the end of christmas matins--the chanting of st. matthew's genealogy of christ. the deacon, in his dalmatic, with acolytes carrying tapers, with thurifer and cross-bearer, all in albs and unicles, went in procession to the pulpit or the rood-loft, to sing this portion of the gospel. if the bishop were present, he it was who chanted it, and a rich candlestick was held to light him.[ ] then followed the chanting of the "te deum."{ } the ceremony does not appear in the ordinary roman books, but it is still performed by the benedictines, as one may read in the striking account of the monastic christmas given by huysmans in "l'oblat."{ } | | where, as in religious communities, the offices of the church are performed in their full order, there follows on matins that custom peculiar to christmas, the celebration of midnight mass. on christmas morning every priest is permitted to say three masses, which should in strictness be celebrated at midnight, at dawn, and in full daylight. each has its own collect, epistle, and gospel, each its own introit, gradual, and other anthems. in many countries the midnight mass is the distinctive christmas service, a great and unique event in the year, something which by its strangeness gives to the feast of the nativity a place by itself. few catholic rites are more impressive than this midnight mass, especially in country places; through the darkness and cold of the winter's night, often for long distances, the faithful journey to worship the infant saviour in the splendour of the lighted church. it is a re-enactment of the visit of the shepherds to the cave at bethlehem, aglow with supernatural light. various symbolical explanations of the three masses were given by mediaeval writers. the midnight celebration was supposed to represent mankind's condition before the law of moses, when thick darkness covered the earth; the second, at dawn, the time of the law and the prophets with its growing light; the third, in full daylight, the christian era of light and grace. another interpretation, adopted by st. thomas aquinas, is more mystical; the three masses stand for the threefold birth of christ, the first typifying the dark mystery of the eternal generation of the son, the second the birth of christ the morning-star within the hearts of men, the third the bodily birth of the son of mary.{ } at the christmas masses the "gloria in excelsis" resounds again. this song of the angels was at first chanted only at christmas; it was introduced into rome during the fifth century at midnight mass in imitation of the custom of the church of jerusalem.{ } it is, indeed, from imitation of the services at jerusalem and bethlehem that the three roman masses of christmas seem to have sprung. from a late fourth-century document known as | | the "peregrinatio silviae," the narrative of a pilgrimage to the holy places of the east by a great lady from southern gaul, it appears that at the feast of the epiphany--when the birth of christ was commemorated in the palestinian church--two successive "stations" were held, one at bethlehem, the other at jerusalem. at bethlehem the station was held at night on the eve of the feast, then a procession was made to the church of the anastasis or resurrection--where was the holy sepulchre--arriving "about the hour when one man begins to recognise another, _i.e._, near daylight, but before the day has fully broken." there a psalm was sung, prayers were said, and the catechumens and faithful were blessed by the bishop. later, mass was celebrated at the great church at golgotha, and the procession returned to the anastasis, where another mass was said.{ } at bethlehem at the present time impressive services are held on the latin christmas day. the patriarch comes from jerusalem, with a troop of cavalry and kavasses in gorgeous array. the office lasts from o'clock on christmas eve until long after midnight. "at the reading of the gospel the clergy and as many of the congregation as can follow leave the church, and proceed by a flight of steps and a tortuous rock-hewn passage to the grotto of the nativity, an irregular subterranean chamber, long and narrow. they carry with them a waxen image of an infant--the _bambino_--wrap it in swaddling bands and lay it on the site which is said to be that of the manger."{ } the midnight mass appears to have been introduced into rome in the first half of the fifth century. it was celebrated by the pope in the church of santa maria maggiore, while the second mass was sung by him at sant' anastasia--perhaps because of the resemblance of the name to the anastasis at jerusalem--and the third at st. peter's.{ } on christmas eve the pope held a solemn "station" at santa maria maggiore, and two vespers were sung, the first very simple, the second, at which the pope pontificated, with elaborate ceremonial. before the second vespers, in the twelfth century, a good meal had to | | be prepared for the papal household by the cardinal-bishop of albano. after matins and midnight mass at santa maria maggiore, the pope went in procession to sant' anastasia for lauds and the mass of the dawn. the third mass, at st. peter's, was an event of great solemnity, and at it took place in the year that profoundly significant event, the coronation of charlemagne by leo iii.--a turning-point in european history.{ } later it became the custom for the pope, instead of proceeding to st. peter's, to return to santa maria maggiore for the third mass. on his arrival he was given a cane with a lighted candle affixed to it; with this he had to set fire to some tow placed on the capitals of the columns.{ } the ecclesiastical explanation of this strange ceremony was that it symbolised the end of the world by fire, but one may conjecture that some pagan custom lay at its root. since the pope, as "the prisoner of the vatican," has of course ceased to celebrate at santa maria maggiore or sant' anastasia. the missal, however, still shows a trace of the papal visit to sant' anastasia in a commemoration of this saint which comes as a curious parenthesis in the mass of the dawn. on christmas day in the vatican the pope blesses a hat and a sword, and these are sent as gifts to some prince. the practice is said to have arisen from the mediaeval custom for the holy roman emperor or some other sovereign to read one of the lessons at christmas matins, in the papal chapel, with his sword drawn.{ } celebrated in countries as distant from one another, both geographically and in character, as ireland and sicily, poland and south america, the midnight mass naturally varies greatly in its tone and setting. sometimes it is little more than a fashionable function, sometimes the devotion of those who attend is shown by a tramp over miles of snow through the darkness and the bitter wind. in some charming memories of the christmas of her childhood, madame th. bentzon thus describes the walk to the midnight mass in a french country place about sixty years ago:-- | | "i can see myself as a little girl, bundled up to the tip of my nose in furs and knitted shawls, tiny wooden shoes on my feet, a lantern in my hand, setting out with my parents for the midnight mass of christmas eve.... we started off, a number of us, together in a stream of light.... our lanterns cast great shadows on the white road, crisp with frost. as our little group advanced it saw others on their way, people from the farm and from the mill, who joined us, and once on the place de l'Église we found ourselves with all the parishioners in a body. no one spoke--the icy north wind cut short our breath; but the voice of the chimes filled the silence.... we entered, accompanied by a gust of wind that swept into the porch at the same time we did; and the splendours of the altar, studded with lights, green with pine and laurel branches, dazzled us from the threshold."{ } in devout tyrol, the scenes on christmas eve before the midnight mass are often extremely impressive, particularly in narrow valleys where the houses lie scattered on the mountain slopes. long before midnight the torches lighting the faithful on their way to mass begin to twinkle; downward they move, now hidden in pine-woods and ravines, now reappearing on the open hill-side. more and more lights show themselves and throw ruddy flashes on the snow, until at last, the floor of the valley reached, they vanish, and only the church windows glow through the darkness, while the solemn strains of the organ and chanting break the silence of the night.{ } not everywhere has the great mass been celebrated amid scenes so still and devotional. in madrid, says a writer of the early nineteenth century, "the evening of the vigil is scarcely dark when numbers of men, women, and boys are seen traversing the streets with torches, and many of them supplied with tambourines, which they strike loudly as they move along in a kind of bacchanal procession. there is a tradition here that the shepherds who visited bethlehem on the day of the nativity had instruments of this sort upon which they expressed the sentiment of joy that animated them when they received the intelligence that a saviour was born." at the midnight mass crowds of people who, perhaps, had been traversing the streets the whole night, came into the church | | with their tambourines and guitars, and accompanied the organ. the mass over, they began to dance in the very body of the church.{ } a later writer speaks of the midnight mass in madrid as a fashionable function to which many gay young people went in order to meet one another.{ } such is the character of the service in the spanish-american cities. in lima the streets on christmas eve are crowded with gaily dressed and noisy folks, many of them masked, and everybody goes to the mass.{ } in paris the elaborate music attracts enormous and often not very serious crowds. in sicily there is sometimes extraordinary irreverence at the midnight services: people take provisions with them to eat in church, and from time to time go out to an inn for a drink, and between the offices they imitate the singing of birds.{ } we may see in such things the licence of pagan festivals creeping within the very walls of the sanctuary. in the rhineland midnight mass has been abolished, because the conviviality of christmas eve led to unseemly behaviour at the solemn service, but mass is still celebrated very early--at four or five--and great crowds of worshippers attend. it is a stirring thing, this first mass of christmas, in some ancient town, when from the piercing cold, the intense stillness of the early morning, one enters a great church thronged with people, bright with candles, warm with human fellowship, and hears the vast congregation break out into a slow solemn chorale, full of devout joy that "in bethlehem geboren ist uns ein kindelein." it is interesting to trace survivals of the nocturnal christmas offices in protestant countries. in german "evangelical" churches, midnight or early morning services were common in the eighteenth century; but they were forbidden in some places because of the riot and drunkenness which accompanied them. the people seem to have regarded them as a part of their christmas revellings rather than as sacred functions; one writer compares the congregation to a crowd of wild drunken sailors in a | | tavern, another gives disgusting particulars of disorders in a church where the only sober man was the preacher.{ } in sweden the christmas service is performed very early in the morning, the chancel is lighted up with many candles, and the celebrant is vested in a white chasuble with golden orphreys.{ } a midnight mass is now celebrated in many anglican churches, but this is purely a modern revival. the most distinct british _survival_ is to be found in wales in the early service known as _plygain_ (dawn), sometimes a celebration of the communion. at tenby at four o'clock on christmas morning it was customary for the young men of the town to escort the rector with lighted torches from his house to the church. extinguishing their torches in the porch, they went in to the early service, and when it was ended the torches were relighted and the procession returned to the rectory. at st. peter's church, carmarthen, an early service was held, to the light of coloured candles brought by the congregation. at st. asaph, caerwys, at or a.m., _plygain_, consisting of carols sung round the church in procession, was held.{ } the _plygain_ continued in welsh churches until about the eighteen-fifties, and, curiously enough, when the established church abandoned it, it was celebrated in nonconformist chapels.{ } in the isle of man on christmas eve, or _oiel verry_ (mary's eve), "a number of persons used to assemble in each parish church and proceed to shout carols or 'carvals.' there was no unison or concert about the chanting, but a single person would stand up with a lighted candle in his or her hand, and chant in a dismal monotone verse after verse of some old manx 'carval,' until the candle was burnt out. then another person would start up and go through a similar performance. no fresh candles might be lighted after the clock had chimed midnight."{ } one may conjecture that the common english practice of ringing bells until midnight on christmas eve has also some connection with the old-time midnight mass. * * * * * for the greek church christmas is a comparatively unimportant festival by the side of the epiphany, the celebration of | | christ's baptism; the christmas offices are, however, full of fine poetry. there is far less restraint, far less adherence to the words of scripture, far greater richness of original composition, in the greek than in the roman service-books, and while there is less poignancy there is more amplitude and splendour. christmas day, with the greeks, is a commemoration of the coming of the magi as well as of the nativity and the adoration of the shepherds, and the wise men are very prominent in the services. the following hymn of st. anatolius (fifth century), from the first vespers of the feast, is fairly typical of the character of the christmas offices:-- "when jesus our lord was born of her, the holy virgin, all the universe became enlightened. for as the shepherds watched their flocks, and as the magi came to pray, and as the angels sang their hymn herod was troubled; for god in flesh appeared, the saviour of our souls. thy kingdom, christ our god, the kingdom is of all the worlds, and thy dominion o'er every generation bears the sway, incarnate of the holy ghost, man of the ever-virgin mary, by thy presence, christ our god, thou hast shined a light on us. light of light, the brightness of the father, thou hast beamed on every creature. all that hath breath doth praise thee, image of the father's glory. thou who art, and wast before, god who shinedst from the maid, have mercy upon us. what gift shall we bring to thee, o christ, since thou as man on earth for us hast shewn thyself? | | since every creature made by thee brings to thee its thanksgiving. the angels bring their song, the heavens bring their star, the magi bring their gifts, the shepherds bring their awe, earth gives a cave, the wilderness a manger, and we the virgin-mother bring. god before all worlds, have mercy upon us!"{ } a beautiful rite called the "peace of god" is performed in slavonic churches at the end of the "liturgy" or mass on christmas morning--the people kiss one another on both cheeks, saying, "christ is born!" to this the answer is made, "of a truth he is born!" and the kisses are returned. this is repeated till everyone has kissed and been kissed by all present.{ } * * * * * we must pass rapidly over the feasts of saints within the octave of the western christmas, st. stephen (december ), st. john the evangelist (december ), the holy innocents (december ), and st. sylvester (december ). none of these, except the feast of the holy innocents, have any special connection with the nativity or the infancy, and the popular customs connected with them will come up for consideration in our second part. the commemoration of the circumcision ("when eight days were accomplished for the circumcising of the child") falls naturally on january , the octave of christmas. it is not of roman origin, and was not observed in rome until it had long been established in the byzantine and gallican churches.{ } in gaul, as is shown by a decree of the council of tours in , a solemn fast was held on the circumcision and the two days following it, in order to turn away the faithful from the pagan festivities of the kalends.{ } the feast of the epiphany on january , as we have seen, is in the eastern church a commemoration of the baptism of christ. in the west it has become primarily the festival of the adoration | | of the magi, the manifestation of christ to the gentiles. still in the roman offices many traces of the baptismal commemoration remain, and the memory of yet another manifestation of christ's glory appears in the antiphon at "magnificat" at the second vespers of the feast:-- "we keep holy a day adorned by three wonders: to-day a star led the magi to the manger; to-day at the marriage water was made wine; to-day for our salvation christ was pleased to be baptized of john in jordan. alleluia." on the octave of the epiphany at matins the baptism is the central idea, and the gospel at mass bears on the same subject. in rome itself even the blessing of the waters, the distinctive ceremony of the eastern epiphany rite, is performed in certain churches according to a latin ritual.{ } at sant' andrea della valle, rome, during the octave of the epiphany a solemn mass is celebrated every morning in latin, and afterwards, on each of the days from january - , there follows a mass according to one of the eastern rites: greco-slav, armenian, chaldean, coptic, greco-ruthenian, greco-melchite, and greek.{ } it is a week of great opportunities for the liturgiologist and the lover of strange ceremonial. the blessing of the waters is an important event in all countries where the greek church prevails. in greece the "great blessing," as it is called, is performed in various ways according to the locality; sometimes the sea is blessed, sometimes a river or reservoir, sometimes merely water in a church. in seaport towns, where the people depend on the water for their living, the celebration has much pomp and elaborateness. at the piraeus enormous and enthusiastic crowds gather, and there is a solemn procession of the bishop and clergy to the harbour, where the bishop throws a little wooden cross, held by a long blue ribbon, into the water, withdraws it dripping wet, and sprinkles the bystanders. this is done three times. at nauplia and other places a curious custom prevails: the archbishop throws a wooden cross into the waters of the harbour, and the fishermen | | of the place dive in after it and struggle for its possession; he who wins it has the right of visiting all the houses of the town and levying a collection, which often brings in a large sum. in samos all the women send to the church a vessel full of water to be blessed by the priest; with this water the fields and the trees are sprinkled.{ } the sense attached to the ceremony by the church is shown in this prayer:-- "thou didst sanctify the streams of jordan by sending from heaven thy holy spirit, and by breaking the heads of the dragons lurking there. therefore, o king, lover of men, be thou thyself present also now by the visitation of thy holy spirit, and sanctify this water. give also to it the grace of ransom, the blessing of jordan: make it a fountain of incorruption; a gift of sanctification; a washing away of sins; a warding off of diseases; destruction to demons; repulsion to the hostile powers; filled with angelic strength; that all who take and receive of it may have it for purification of souls and bodies, for healing of sicknesses, for sanctification of houses, and meet for every need."{ } though for the church the immersion of the cross represents the baptism of christ, and the blessings springing from that event are supposed to be carried to the people by the sprinkling with the water, it is held by some students that the whole practice is a christianization of a primitive rain-charm--a piece of sympathetic magic intended to produce rain by imitating the drenching which it gives. an epiphany song from imbros connects the blessing of rain with the baptism of christ, and another tells how at the river jordan "a dove came down, white and feathery, and with its wings opened; it sent rain down on the lord, and again it rained and rained on our lady, and again it rained and rained on its wings."{ } the blessing of the waters is performed in the greek church of st. sophia, bayswater, london, on the morning of the epiphany, which, through the difference between the old and new "styles," falls on our th of january. all is done within the church; the water to be blessed is placed on a table under | | the dome, and is sanctified by the immersion of a small cross; afterwards it is sprinkled on everyone present, and some is taken home by the faithful in little vessels.{ } in moscow and st. petersburg the blessing is a function of great magnificence, but it is perhaps even more interesting as performed in russian country places. whatever may be the orthodox significance of the rite, to the country people it is the chasing away of "forest demons, sprites, and fairies, once the gods the peasants worshipped, but now dethroned from their high estate," who in the long dark winter nights bewitch and vex the sons of men. a vivid and imaginative account of the ceremony and its meaning to the peasants is given by mr. f. h. e. palmer in his "russian life in town and country." the district in which he witnessed it was one of forests and of lakes frozen in winter. on one of these lakes had been erected "a huge cross, constructed of blocks of ice, that glittered like diamonds in the brilliant winter sunlight.... at length, far away could be heard the sound of human voices, singing a strange, wild melody. presently there was a movement in the snow among the trees, and waving banners appeared as a procession approached, headed by the pope in his vestments, and surrounded by the village dignitaries, venerable, grey-bearded patriarchs." a wide space in the procession was left for "a strange and motley band of gnomes and sprites, fairies and wood-nymphs," who, as the peasants believed, had been caught by the holy singing and the sacred sign on the waving banner. the chanting still went on as the crowd formed a circle around the glittering cross, and all looked on with awe while half a dozen peasants with their axes cut a large hole in the ice. "and now the priest's voice is heard, deep and sonorous, as he pronounces the words of doom. alas for the poor sprites! into that yawning chasm they must leap, and sink deep, deep below the surface of that ice-cold water."{ } * * * * * following these eastern epiphany rites we have wandered far from the cycle of ideas generally associated with christmas. we | | must now pass to those popular devotions to the christ child which, though they form no part of the church's liturgy, she has permitted and encouraged. it is in the west that we shall find them; the latin church, as we have seen, makes far more of christmas than the greek. rome is often condemned for using in her liturgy the dead language of latin, but it must not be forgotten that in every country she offers to the faithful a rich store of devotional literature in their own tongue, and that, supplementary to the liturgical offices, there is much public prayer and praise in the vernacular. nor, in that which appeals to the eye, does she limit herself to the mysterious symbolism of the sacraments and the ritual which surrounds them; she gives to the people concrete, pictorial images to quicken their faith. how ritual grew in mediaeval times into full-fledged drama we shall see in the next chapter; here let us consider that cult of the christ child in which the scene of bethlehem is represented not by living actors but in plastic art, often most simple and homely. the use of the "crib" (french _crèche_, italian _presepio_, german _krippe_) at christmas is now universally diffused in the roman church. most readers of this book must have seen one of these structures representing the stable at bethlehem, with the child in the manger, his mother and st. joseph, the ox and the ass, and perhaps the shepherds, the three kings, or worshipping angels. they are the delight of children, who through the season of christmas and epiphany wander into the open churches at all times of day to gaze wide-eyed on the life-like scene and offer a prayer to their little brother. no one with anything of the child-spirit can fail to be touched by the charm of the christmas crib. faults of artistic taste there may often be, but these are wont to be softened down by the flicker of tapers, the glow of ruby lights, amidst the shades of some dim aisle or chapel, and the scene of tender humanity, gently, mysteriously radiant, as though with "bright shoots of everlastingness," is full of religious and poetic suggestions. the institution of the _presepio_ is often ascribed to st. francis of assisi, who in the year celebrated christmas at greccio | | with a bethlehem scene with a real ox and ass. about fifteen days before the nativity, according to thomas of celano, the blessed francis sent for a certain nobleman, john by name, and said to him: "if thou wilt that we celebrate the present festival of the lord at greccio, make haste to go before and diligently prepare what i tell thee. for i would fain make memorial of that child who was born in bethlehem, and in some sort behold with bodily eyes his infant hardships; how he lay in a manger on the hay, with the ox and the ass standing by." the good man prepared all that the saint had commanded, and at last the day of gladness drew nigh. the brethren were called from many convents; the men and women of the town prepared tapers and torches to illuminate the night. finding all things ready, francis beheld and rejoiced: the manger had been prepared, the hay was brought, and the ox and ass were led in. "thus simplicity was honoured, poverty exalted, humility commended, and of greccio there was made as it were a new bethlehem. the night was lit up as the day, and was delightsome to men and beasts.... the woodland rang with voices, the rocks made answer to the jubilant throng." francis stood before the manger, "overcome with tenderness and filled with wondrous joy"; mass was celebrated, and he, in deacon's vestments, chanted the holy gospel in an "earnest, sweet, and loud-sounding voice." then he preached to the people of "the birth of the poor king and the little town of bethlehem." "uttering the word 'bethlehem' in the manner of a sheep bleating, he filled his mouth with the sound," and in naming the child jesus "he would, as it were, lick his lips, relishing with happy palate and swallowing the sweetness of that word." at length, the solemn vigil ended, each one returned with joy to his own place.{ } it has been suggested by countess martinengo{ } that this beautiful ceremony was "the crystallization of haunting memories carried away by st. francis from the real bethlehem"; for he visited the east in - , and the greccio celebration took place in . st. francis and his followers may well have helped greatly to popularize the use of the _presepio_, but it can be | | traced back far earlier than their time. in the liturgical drama known as the "officium pastorum," which probably took shape in the eleventh century, we find a _praesepe_ behind the altar as the centre of the action{ }; but long before this something of the kind seems to have been in existence in the church of santa maria maggiore in rome--at one time called "beata maria ad praesepe." here pope gregory iii. ( - ) placed "a golden image of the mother of god embracing god our saviour, in various gems."{ } according to usener's views this church was founded by pope liberius ( - ), and was intended to provide a special home for the new festival of christmas introduced by him, while an important part of the early christmas ritual there was the celebration of mass over a "manger" in which the consecrated host was laid, as once the body of the holy child in the crib at bethlehem.{ } further, an eastern homily of the late fourth century suggests that the preacher had before his eyes a representation of the nativity. such material representations, usener conjectures, may have arisen from the devotions of the faithful at the supposed actual birthplace at bethlehem, which would naturally be adorned with the sacred figures of the holy night.{ } in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries the crib can be traced at milan, parma, and modena, and an italian example carved in still exists.{ } the bavarian national museum at munich has a fine collection of cribs of various periods and from various lands--germany, tyrol, italy, and sicily--showing what elaborate care has been bestowed upon the preparation of these models. among them is a great erection made at botzen in the first half of the nineteenth century, and large enough to fill a fair-sized room. it represents the central square of a town, with imposing buildings, including a great cathedral not unlike our st. paul's. figures of various sizes were provided to suit the perspective, and the crib itself was probably set up in the porch of the church, while processions of puppets were arranged on the wide open square. another, made in munich, shows the adoration of the shepherds in a sort of ruined castle, while others, from naples, lay the scene among remains of classical temples. one tyrolese crib has a wide landscape background with a | | village and mountains typical of the country. the figures are often numerous, and, as their makers generally dressed them in the costume of their contemporaries, are sometimes exceedingly quaint. an angel with a wasp-waist, in a powdered wig, a hat trimmed with big feathers, and a red velvet dress with heavy gold embroidery, seems comic to us moderns, yet this is how the ursuline nuns of innsbruck conceived the heavenly messenger. many of the cribs and figures, however, are of fine artistic quality, especially those from naples and sicily, and to the student of costume the various types of dress are of great interest.{ } the use of the christmas crib is by no means confined to churches; it is common in the home in many catholic regions, and in at least one protestant district, the saxon erzgebirge.{ } in germany the _krippe_ is often combined with the christmas-tree; at treves, for instance, the present writer saw a magnificent tree covered with glittering lights and ornaments, and underneath it the cave of the nativity with little figures of the holy persons. thus have pagan and christian symbols met together. * * * * * there grew up in germany, about the fourteenth century, the extremely popular christmas custom of "cradle-rocking," a response to the people's need of a life-like and homely presentation of christianity. by the _kindelwiegen_ the lay-folk were brought into most intimate touch with the christ child; the crib became a cradle (_wiege_) that could be rocked, and the worshippers were thus able to express in physical action their devotion to the new-born babe. the cradle-rocking seems to have been done at first by priests, who impersonated the virgin and st. joseph, and sang over the child a duet:-- "joseph, lieber neve mîn, hilf mir wiegen daz kindelîn. gerne, liebe muome mîn, hilf ich dir wiegen dîn kindelîn."[ ] [illustration: a neapolitan "presepio." _photo_] [_meisenbach, riffarth & co., munich_.] | | the choir and people took their part in the singing; and dancing, to the old germans a natural accompaniment of festive song, became common around the cradle, which in time the people were allowed to rock with their own hands.{ } "in dulci jubilo" has the character of a dance, and the same is true of another delightful old carol, "lasst uns das kindlein wiegen," still used, in a form modified by later editors, in the churches of the rhineland. the present writer has heard it sung, very slowly, in unison, by vast congregations, and very beautiful is its mingling of solemnity, festive joy, and tender sentiment:-- [illustration: music] "lasst uns das kindlein wiegen, das herz zum krippelein biegen! lasst uns den geist erfreuen, das kindlein benedeien: o jesulein süss! o jesulein süss! * * * * * lasst uns sein händel und füsse, sein feuriges herzlein grüssen! und ihn demütiglich eren als unsern gott und herren! o jesulein süss! o jesulein süss!"[ ]{ } two latin hymns, "resonet in laudibus" and "quem pastores laudavere,"{ } were also sung at the _kindelwiegen_, and | | a charming and quite untranslatable german lullaby has come down to us:-- "sausa ninne, gottes minne, nu sweig und ru! wen du wilt, so wellen wir deinen willen tun, hochgelobter edler furst, nu schweig und wein auch nicht, tûste das, so wiss wir, dass uns wol geschicht."{ } it was by appeals like this _kindelwiegen_ to the natural, homely instincts of the folk that the church gained a real hold over the masses, making christianity during the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries a genuinely popular religion in germany. dr. alexander tille, the best historian of the german christmas, has an interesting passage on the subject: "in the dancing and jubilation around the cradle," he writes, "the religion of the cross, however much it might in its inmost character be opposed to the nature of the german people and their essential healthiness, was felt no longer as something alien. it had become naturalized, but had lost in the process its very core. the preparation for a life after death, which was its alpha and omega, had passed into the background. it was not joy at the promised 'redemption' that expressed itself in the dance around the cradle; for the german has never learnt to feel himself utterly vile and sinful: it was joy at the simple fact that a human being, a particular human being in peculiar circumstances, was born into the world.... the middle ages showed in the cradle-rocking 'a true german and most lovable childlikeness.' the christ child was the 'universal little brother of all children of earth,' and they acted accordingly, they lulled him to sleep, they fondled and rocked him, they danced before him and leapt around him _in dulci jubilo_."{ } there is much here that is true of the cult of the christ child in other countries than germany, though perhaps dr. tille underestimates the religious feeling that is often joined to the human sentiment. the fifteenth century was the great period for the _kindelwiegen_, the time when it appears to have been practised in all the churches of germany; in the sixteenth it began to seem | | irreverent to the stricter members of the clergy, and the figure of the infant jesus was in many places no longer rocked in the cradle but enthroned on the altar.{ } this usage is described by naogeorgus ( ):-- "a woodden childe in clowtes is on the aultar set, about the which both boyes and gyrles do daunce and trymly jet, and carrols sing in prayse of christ, and, for to helpe them heare, the organs aunswere every verse with sweete and solemne cheare. the priestes do rore aloude; and round about the parentes stande to see the sport, and with their voyce do helpe them and their hande."{ } the placing of a "holy child" above the altar at christmas is still customary in many roman catholic churches. protestantism opposed the _kindelwiegen_, on the grounds both of superstition and of the disorderly proceedings that accompanied it, but it was long before it was utterly extinguished even in the lutheran churches. in catholic churches the custom did not altogether die out, though the unseemly behaviour which often attended it--and the growth of a pseudo-classical taste--caused its abolition in most places.{ } at tübingen as late as at midnight on christmas eve an image of the christ child was rocked on the tower of the chief church in a small cradle surrounded with lights, while the spectators below sang a cradle-song.{ } according to a recent writer the "rocking" is still continued in the upper innthal.{ } in the tyrolese cathedral city of brixen it was once performed every day between christmas and candlemas by the sacristan or boy-acolytes. that the proceedings had a tendency to be disorderly is shown by an eighteenth-century instruction to the sacristan: "be sure to take a stick or a thong of ox-hide, for the boys are often very ill-behaved."{ } there are records of other curious ceremonies in german or austrian churches. at st. peter am windberge in mühlkreis in upper austria, during the service on christmas night a life-sized wooden figure of the holy child was offered in | | a basket to the congregation; each person reverently kissed it and passed it on to his neighbour. this was done as late as .{ } at crimmitschau in saxony a boy, dressed as an angel, used to be let down from the roof singing luther's "vom himmel hoch," and the custom was only given up when the breaking of the rope which supported the singer had caused a serious accident.{ } * * * * * it is in italy, probably, that the cult of the christ child is most ardently practised to-day. no people have a greater love of children than the italians, none more of that dramatic instinct which such a form of worship demands. "easter," says countess martinengo-cesaresco, "is the great popular feast in the eastern church, christmas in the latin--especially in italy. one is the feast of the next world, and the other of this. italians are fond of this world."{ } christmas is for the poorer italians a summing up of human birthdays, an occasion for pouring out on the _bambino_ parental and fraternal affection as well as religious worship. in rome, christmas used to be heralded by the arrival, ten days before the end of advent, of the calabrian minstrels or _pifferari_ with their sylvan pipes (_zampogne_), resembling the scottish bagpipe, but less harsh in sound. these minstrels were to be seen in every street in rome, playing their wild plaintive music before the shrines of the madonna, under the traditional notion of charming away her labour-pains. often they would stop at a carpenter's shop "per politezza al messer san giuseppe."{ } since the _pifferari_ have become rare in rome, but some were seen there by an english lady quite recently. at naples, too, there are _zampognari_ before christmas, though far fewer than there used to be; for one _lira_ they will pipe their rustic melodies before any householder's street madonna through a whole _novena_.{ } [illustration: calabrian shepherds playing in rome at christmas. _after an etching by d. allan._ from hone's "every-day book" (london, ).] in sicily, too, men come down from the mountains nine days before christmas to sing a _novena_ to a plaintive melody accompanied by 'cello and violin. "all day long," writes signora caico about montedoro in caltanissetta, "the melancholy dirge | | was sung round the village, house after house, always the same minor tune, the words being different every day, so that in nine days the whole song was sung out.... i often looked out of the window to see them at a short distance, grouped before a house, singing their stanzas, well muffled in shawls, for the air is cold in spite of the bright sunshine.... the flat, white houses all round, the pure sky overhead, gave an oriental setting to the scene." another christmas custom in the same place was the singing of a _novena_ not outside but within some of the village houses before a kind of altar gaily decorated and bearing at the top a waxen image of the child jesus. "close to it the orchestra was grouped--a 'cello, two violins, a guitar, and a tambourine. the kneeling women huddled in front of the altar. all had on their heads their black _mantelline_. they began at once singing the _novena_ stanzas appointed for that day; the tune was primitive and very odd: the first half of the stanza was quick and merry, the second half became a wailing dirge." a full translation of a long and very interesting and pathetic _novena_ is given by signora caico.[ ]{ } the _presepio_ both in rome and at naples is the special christmas symbol in the home, just as the lighted tree is in germany. in rome the piazza navona is the great place for the sale of little clay figures of the holy persons. (is there perchance a survival here of the _sigillaria_, the little clay dolls sold in rome at the _saturnalia_?) these are bought in the market for two _soldi_ each, and the _presepi_ or "bethlehems" are made at home with cardboard and moss.{ } the home-made _presepi_ at naples are well described by matilde serao; they are pasteboard models of the landscape of bethlehem--a hill with the sacred cave beneath it and two or three paths leading down to the grotto, a little tavern, a shepherd's hut, a few trees, sometimes a stream in glittering glass. the ground is made verdant with moss, and there is | | straw within the cave for the repose of the infant jesus; singing angels are suspended by thin wires, and the star of the wise men hangs by an invisible thread. there is little attempt to realize the scenery of the east; the child is born and the magi adore him in a campanian or calabrian setting.{ } italian churches, as well as italian homes, have their _presepi_. "thither come the people, bearing humble gifts of chestnuts, apples, tomatoes, and the like, which they place as offerings in the hands of the figures. these are very often life-size. mary is usually robed in blue satin, with crimson scarf and white head-dress. joseph stands near her dressed in the ordinary working-garb. the onlookers are got up like italian contadini. the magi are always very prominent in their grand clothes, with satin trains borne by black slaves, jewelled turbans, and satin tunics all over jewels."{ } [illustration: st. francis institutes the "presepio" at greccio. _by giotto._ (upper church of st francis, assissi)] [illustration: the "bambino" of ara coeli.] in rome the two great centres of christmas devotion are the churches of santa maria maggiore, where are preserved the relics of the cradle of christ, and ara coeli, the home of the most famous _bambino_ in the world. a vivid picture of the scene at santa maria maggiore in the early nineteenth century is given by lady morgan. she entered the church at midnight on christmas eve to wait for the procession of the _culla_, or cradle. "its three ample naves, separated by rows of ionic columns of white marble, produced a splendid vista. thousands of wax tapers marked their form, and contrasted their shadows; some blazed from golden candlesticks on the superb altars of the lateral chapels.... draperies of gold and crimson decked the columns, and spread their shadows from the inter-columniations over the marble pavement. in the midst of this imposing display of church magnificence, sauntered or reposed a population which displayed the most squalid misery. the haggard natives of the mountains ... were mixed with the whole mendicity of rome.... some of these terrific groups lay stretched in heaps on the ground, congregating for warmth; and as their dark eyes scowled from beneath the mantle which half hid a sheepskin dress, they had the air of banditti awaiting their prey; others with their wives and children knelt, half asleep, | | round the chapel of the _santa croce_.... in the centre of the nave, multitudes of gay, gaudy, noisy persons, the petty shopkeepers, laquais, and _popolaccio_ of the city, strolled and laughed, and talked loud." about three o'clock the service began, with a choral swell, blazing torches, and a crowded procession of priests of every rank and order. it lasted for two hours; then began the procession to the cell where the cradle lay, enshrined in a blaze of tapers and guarded by groups of devotees. thence it was borne with solemn chants to the chapel of _santa croce_. a musical mass followed, and the _culla_ being at last deposited on the high altar, the wearied spectators issued forth just as the dome of st. peter's caught the first light of the morning.{ } still to-day the scene in the church at the five o'clock high mass on christmas morning is extraordinarily impressive, with the crowds of poor people, the countless lights at which the children gaze in open-eyed wonder, the many low masses said in the side chapels, the imposing procession and the setting of the silver casket on the high altar. the history of the relics of the _culla_--five long narrow pieces of wood--is obscure, but it is admitted even by some orthodox roman catholics that there is no sufficient evidence to connect them with bethlehem.{ } the famous _bambino_ at the franciscan church of ara coeli on the citadel of rome is "a flesh-coloured doll, tightly swathed in gold and silver tissue, crowned, and sparkling with jewels," no thing of beauty, but believed to have miraculous powers. an inscription in the sacristy of the church states that it was made by a devout minorite of wood from the mount of olives, and given flesh-colour by the interposition of god himself. it has its own servants and its own carriage in which it drives out to visit the sick. there is a strange story of a theft of the wonder-working image by a woman who feigned sickness, obtained permission to have the _bambino_ left with her, and then sent back to the friars another image dressed in its clothes. that night the franciscans heard great ringing of bells and knockings at the church door, and found outside the true _bambino_, naked in the wind and rain. since then it has never been allowed out alone.{ } | | all through the christmas and epiphany season ara coeli is crowded with visitors to the _bambino_. before the _presepio_, where it lies, is erected a wooden platform on which small boys and girls of all ranks follow one another with little speeches--"preaching" it is called--in praise of the infant lord. "they say their pieces," writes countess martinengo, "with an infinite charm that raises half a smile and half a tear." they have the vivid dramatic gift, the extraordinary absence of self-consciousness, typical of italian children, and their "preaching" is anything but a wooden repetition of a lesson learned by heart. nor is there any irksome constraint; indeed to northerners the scene in the church might seem irreverent, for the children blow toy trumpets and their parents talk freely on all manner of subjects. the church is approached by one hundred and twenty-four steps, making an extraordinarily picturesque spectacle at this season, when they are thronged by people ascending and descending, and by vendors of all sorts of christmas prints and images. on the octave of the epiphany there is a great procession, ending with the blessing of rome by the holy child. the _bambino_ is carried out to the space at the top of the giddy flight of marble steps, and a priest raises it on high and solemnly blesses the eternal city.{ } a glimpse of the southern christmas may be had in london in the italian colony in and around eyre street hill, off the clerkenwell road, a little town of poor italians set down in the midst of the metropolis. the steep, narrow eyre street hill, with its shops full of southern wares, is dingy enough by day, but after dark on christmas eve it looks like a bit of naples. the windows are gay with lights and coloured festoons, there are lantern-decked sweetmeat stalls, one old man has a _presepio_ in his room, other people have little altars or shrines with candles burning, and bright pictures of saints adorn the walls. it is a strangely pathetic sight, this _festa_ of the children of the south, this attempt to keep an italian christmas amid the cold damp dreariness of a london slum. the colony has its own church, san pietro, copied from some renaissance basilica at rome, a building half tawdry, half magnificent, which transports him who enters it far away to the south. like every italian church, it is | | at once the palace of the great king and the refuge of the humblest--no other church in london is quite so intimately the home of the poor. towards twelve o'clock on christmas eve the deep-toned bell of san pietro booms out over the colony, and the people crowd to the midnight mass, and pay their devotions at a great _presepio_ set up for the veneration of the faithful. when on the octave of the epiphany[ ] the time comes to close the crib, an impressive and touching ceremony takes place. the afternoon benediction over, the priest, with the acolytes, goes to the _presepio_ and returns to the chancel with the _bambino_. holding it on his arm, he preaches in italian on the story of the christ child. the sermon ended, the notes of "adeste, fideles" are heard, and while the latin words are sung the faithful kneel at the altar rails and reverently kiss the holy babe. it is their farewell to the _bambino_ till next christmas. * * * * * a few details may here be given about the religious customs at christmas in spain. the midnight mass is there the great event of the festival. something has already been said as to its celebration in madrid. the scene at the midnight service in a small andalusian country town is thus described by an english traveller:--"the church was full; the service orderly; the people of all classes. there were muleteers, wrapped in their blue and white checked rugs; here, spanish gentlemen, enveloped in their graceful capas, or capes ... here, again, were crowds of the commonest people,--miners, fruitsellers, servants, and the like,--the women kneeling on the rush matting of the dimly-lit church, the men standing in dark masses behind, or clustering in groups round every pillar.... at last, from under the altar, the senior priest ... took out the image of the babe new-born, reverently and slowly, and held it up in his hands for adoration. instantly every one crossed himself, and fell on his knees in silent worship."{ } the crib is very popular in spanish homes and is the delight of children, as may be learnt from fernan caballero's interesting sketch of christmas eve in spain, "la noche de navidad."{ } | | in england the christmas crib is to be found nowadays in most roman, and a few anglican, churches. in the latter it is of course an imitation, not a survival. it is, however, possible that the custom of carrying dolls about in a box at advent or christmas time, common in some parts of england in the nineteenth century, is a survival, from the middle ages, of something like the crib. the so-called "vessel-cup" was "a box containing two dolls, dressed up to represent the virgin and the infant christ, decorated with ribbons and surrounded by flowers and apples." the box had usually a glass lid, was covered by a white napkin, and was carried from door to door by a woman.{ } it was esteemed very unlucky for any household not to be visited by the "advent images" before christmas eve, and the bearers sang the well-known carol of the "joys of mary."{ } in yorkshire only one image was carried about.{ } at gilmorton, leicestershire, a friend of the present writer remembers that the children used to carry round what they called a "christmas vase," an open box without lid in which lay three dolls side by side, with oranges and sprigs of evergreen. some people regarded these as images of the virgin, the christ child, and joseph.[ ] * * * * * in this study of the feast of the nativity as represented in liturgy and ceremonial we have already come close to what may strictly be called drama; in the next chapter we shall cross the border line and consider the religious plays of the middle ages and the relics of or parallels to them found in later times. | | | | | | chapter v christmas drama origins of the mediaeval drama--dramatic tendencies in the liturgy--latin liturgical plays--the drama becomes laicized--characteristics of the popular drama--the nativity in the english miracle cycles--christmas mysteries in france--later french survivals of christmas drama--german christmas plays--mediaeval italian plays and pageants--spanish nativity plays--modern survivals in various countries--the star-singers, &c. [illustration: the adoration of the shepherds. from broadside no. in the collection of the society of antiquaries at burlington house (by permission). (photo lent by mr. f. sidgwick, who has published the print on a modern christmas broadside.)] in this chapter the christian side only of the christmas drama will be treated. much folk-drama of pagan origin has gathered round the festival, but this we shall study in our second part. our subject here is the dramatic representation of the story of the nativity and the events immediately connected with it. the christmas drama has passed through the same stages as the poetry of the nativity. there is first a monastic and hieratic stage, when the drama is but an expansion of the liturgy, a piece of ceremonial performed by clerics with little attempt at verisimilitude and with latin words drawn mainly from the bible or the offices of the church. then, as the laity come to take a more personal interest in christianity, we find fancy beginning to play around the subject, bringing out its human pathos and charm, until, after a transitional stage, the drama leaves the sanctuary, passes from latin to the vulgar tongue, is played by lay performers in the streets and squares of the city, and, while its framework remains religious, takes into itself episodes of a more or less secular character. the latin liturgical plays are to the "miracles" and "mysteries" of the later middle ages as a romanesque church, solemn, oppressive, hieratic, to | | a gothic cathedral, soaring, audacious, reflecting every phase of the popular life. the mediaeval religious drama{ } was a natural development from the catholic liturgy, not an imitation of classical models. the classical drama had expired at the break-up of the roman empire; its death was due largely, indeed, to the hostility of christianity, but also to the rude indifference of the barbarian invaders. whatever secular dramatic impulses remained in the dark ages showed themselves not in public and organized performances, but obscurely in the songs and mimicry of minstrels and in traditional folk-customs. both of these classes of practices were strongly opposed by the church, because of their connection with heathenism and the licence towards which they tended. yet the dramatic instinct could not be suppressed. the folk-drama in such forms as the feast of fools found its way, as we shall see, even into the sanctuary, and--most remarkable fact of all--the church's own services took on more and more a dramatic character. while the secular stage decayed, the church was building up a stately system of ritual. it is needless to dwell upon the dramatic elements in catholic worship. the central act of christian devotion, the eucharist, is in its essence a drama, a representation of the death of the redeemer and the participation of the faithful in its benefits, and around this has gathered in the mass a multitude of dramatic actions expressing different aspects of the redemption. nor, of course, is there merely symbolic _action_; the offices of the church are in great part _dialogues_ between priest and people, or between two sets of singers. it was from this antiphonal song, this alternation of versicle and respond, that the religious drama of the middle ages took its rise. in the ninth century the "antiphonarium" traditionally ascribed to pope gregory the great had become insufficient for ambitious choirs, and the practice grew up of supplementing it by new melodies and words inserted at the beginning or end or even in the middle of the old antiphons. the new texts were called "tropes," and from the ninth to the thirteenth century many were written. an interesting christmas | | example is the following ninth-century trope ascribed to tutilo of st. gall:-- "hodie cantandus est nobis puer, quem gignebat ineffabiliter ante tempora pater, et eundem sub tempore generavit inclyta mater. (to-day must we sing of a child, whom in unspeakable wise his father begat before all times, and whom, within time, a glorious mother brought forth.) int[errogatio]. quis est iste puer quem tam magnis praeconiis dignum vociferatis? dicite nobis ut collaudatores esse possimus. (who is this child whom ye proclaim worthy of so great laudations? tell us that we also may praise him.) resp[onsio]. hic enim est quem praesagus et electus symmista dei ad terram venturum praevidens longe ante praenotavit, sicque praedixit. (this is he whose coming to earth the prophetic and chosen initiate into the mysteries of god foresaw and pointed out long before, and thus foretold.)" here followed at once the introit for the third mass of christmas day, "puer natus est nobis, et filius datus est nobis, &c. (unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given.)" the question and answer were no doubt sung by different choirs.{ } one can well imagine that this might develop into a regular little drama. as a matter of fact, however, it was from an easter trope in the same manuscript, the "quem quaeritis," a dialogue between the three maries and the angel at the sepulchre, that the liturgical drama sprang. the trope became very popular, and was gradually elaborated into a short symbolic drama, and its popularity led to the composition of similar pieces for christmas and ascensiontide. here is the christmas trope from a st. gall manuscript:-- "_on the nativity of the lord at mass let there be ready two deacons having on dalmatics, behind the altar, saying_: quem quaeritis in praesepe, pastores, dicite? (whom seek ye in the manger, say, ye shepherds?) | | _let two cantors in the choir answer_: salvatorem christum dominum, infantem pannis involutum, secundum sermonem angelicum. (the saviour, christ the lord, a child wrapped in swaddling clothes, according to the angelic word.) _and the deacons_: adest hic parvulus cum maria, matre sua, de qua, vaticinando, isaias propheta: ecce virgo concipiet et pariet filium; et nuntiantes dicite quia natus est. (present here is the little one with mary, his mother, of whom isaiah the prophet foretold: behold, a virgin shall conceive, and shall bring forth a son; and do ye say and announce that he is born.) _then let the cantor lift up his voice and say_: alleluia, alleluia, jam vere scimus christum natum in terris, de quo canite, omnes, cum propheta dicentes: puer natus est! (alleluia, alleluia. now we know indeed that christ is born on earth, of whom sing ye all, saying with the prophet: unto us a child is born.)"{ } the dramatic character of this is very marked. a comparison with later liturgical plays suggests that the two deacons in their broad vestments were meant to represent the midwives mentioned in the apocryphal gospel of st. james, and the cantors the shepherds. a development from this trope, apparently, was the "office of the shepherds," which probably took shape in the eleventh century, though it is first given in a rouen manuscript of the thirteenth. it must have been an impressive ceremony as performed in the great cathedral, dimly lit with candles, and full of mysterious black recesses and hints of infinity. behind the high altar a _praesepe_ or "crib" was prepared, with an image of the virgin. after the "te deum" had been sung five canons or their vicars, clad in albs and amices, entered by the great door of the choir, and proceeded towards the apse. these were the shepherds. suddenly from high above them came a clear boy's voice: "fear not, behold i bring you good tidings of great joy," and the rest of the angelic message. the "multitude of the heavenly host" was represented by other boys stationed probably | | in the triforium galleries, who broke out into the exultant "gloria in excelsis." singing a hymn, "pax in terris nunciatur," the shepherds advanced towards the crib where two priests--the midwives--awaited them. these addressed to the shepherds the question "whom seek ye in the manger?" and then came the rest of the "quem quaeritis" which we already know, a hymn to the virgin being sung while the shepherds adored the infant. mass followed immediately, the little drama being merely a prelude.{ } more important than this office of the shepherds is an epiphany play called by various names, "stella," "tres reges," "magi," or "herodes," and found in different forms at limoges, rouen, laon, compiègne, strasburg, le mans, freising in bavaria, and other places. mr. e. k. chambers suggests that its kernel is a dramatized offertory. it was a custom for christian kings to present gold, frankincense, and myrrh at the epiphany--the offering is still made by proxy at the chapel royal, st. james's--and mr. chambers takes "the play to have served as a substitute for this ceremony, when no king actually regnant was present."{ } its most essential features were the appearance of the star of bethlehem to the magi, and their offering of the mystic gifts. the star, bright with candles, hung from the roof of the church, and was sometimes made to move. in the rouen version of the play it is ordered that on the day of the epiphany, terce having been sung, three clerics, robed as kings, shall come from the east, north, and south, and meet before the altar, with their servants bearing the offerings of the magi. the king from the east, pointing to the star with his stick, exclaims:-- "stella fulgore nimio rutilat. (the star glows with exceeding brightness.)" the second monarch answers: "quae regem regum natum demonstrat. (which shows the birth of the king of kings.)" | | and the third: "quem venturum olim prophetiae signaverant. (to whose coming the prophecies of old had pointed.)" then the magi kiss one another and together sing: "eamus ergo et inquiramus eum, offerentes ei munera: aurum, thus, et myrrham. (let us therefore go and seek him, offering unto him gifts: gold, frankincense, and myrrh.)" antiphons are sung, a procession is formed, and the magi go to a certain altar above which an image of the virgin has been placed with a lighted star before it. two priests in dalmatics--apparently the midwives--standing on either side of the altar, inquire who the magi are, and receiving their answer, draw aside a curtain and bid them approach to worship the child, "for he is the redemption of the world." the three kings do adoration, and offer their gifts, each with a few pregnant words:-- "suscipe, rex, aurum. (receive, o king, gold.)" "tolle thus, tu vere deus. (accept incense, thou very god.)" "myrrham, signum sepulturae. (myrrh, the sign of burial.)" the clergy and people then make their offerings, while the magi fall asleep and are warned by an angel to return home another way. this they do symbolically by proceeding back to the choir by a side aisle.{ } in its later forms the epiphany play includes the appearance of herod, who is destined to fill a very important place in the mediaeval drama. hamlet's saying "he out-herods herod" sufficiently suggests the raging tyrant whom the playwrights of the middle ages loved. his appearance marks perhaps the first introduction into the christian religious play of the evil principle so necessary to dramatic effect. at first herod holds merely a mild conversation with the magi, begging them to tell him when they have found the new-born king; in later versions of the play, however, his wrath is shown on learning that the wise men have | | departed home by another way; he breaks out into bloodthirsty tirades, orders the slaying of the innocents, and in one form takes a sword and brandishes it in the air. he becomes in fact the outstanding figure in the drama, and one can understand why it was sometimes named after him. in the laon "stella" the actual murder of the innocents was represented, the symbolical figure of rachel weeping over her children being introduced. the plaint and consolation of rachel, it should be noted, seem at first to have formed an independent little piece performed probably on holy innocents' day.{ } this later coalesced with the "stella," as did also the play of the shepherds, and, at a still later date, another liturgical drama which we must now consider--the "prophetae." this had its origin in a sermon (wrongly ascribed to st. augustine) against jews, pagans, and arians, a portion of which was used in many churches as a christmas lesson. it begins with a rhetorical appeal to the jews who refuse to accept jesus as the messiah in spite of the witness of their own prophets. ten prophets are made to give their testimony, and then three pagans are called upon, virgil, nebuchadnezzar and the erythraean sibyl. the sermon has a strongly dramatic character, and when chanted in church the parts of the preacher and the prophets were possibly distributed among different choristers. in time it developed into a regular drama, and more prophets were brought in. it was, indeed, the germ of the great old testament cycles of the later middle ages.{ } an extension of the "prophetae" was the norman or anglo-norman play of "adam," which began with the fall, continued with cain and abel, and ended with the witness of the prophets. in the other direction the "prophetae" was extended by the addition of the "stella." it so happens that there is no text of a latin drama containing both these extensions at the same time, but such a play probably existed. from the mid-thirteenth to the mid-fourteenth century, indeed, there was a tendency for the plays to run together into cycles and become too long and too elaborate for performance in church. in the eleventh century, even, they had begun to pass out into the churchyard or | | the market-place, and to be played not only by the clergy but by laymen. this change had extremely important effects on their character. in the first place the vulgar tongue crept in. as early, possibly, as the twelfth century are the norman "adam" and the spanish "misterio de los reyes magos," the former, as we have seen, an extended vernacular "prophetae," the latter, a fragment of a highly developed vernacular "stella." they are the first of the popular as distinguished from the liturgical plays; they were meant, as their language shows, for the instruction and delight of the folk; they were not to be listened to, like the mysterious latin of the liturgy, in uncomprehending reverence, but were to be understanded of the people. the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries saw a progressive supplanting of latin by the common speech, until, in the great cycles, only a few scraps of the church language were left to tell of the liturgical origin of the drama. the process of popularization, the development of the plays from religious ceremonial to lively drama, was probably greatly helped by the _goliards_ or vagabond scholars, young, poor, and fond of amusement, who wandered over europe from teacher to teacher, from monastery to monastery, in search of learning. their influence is shown not merely in the broadening of the drama, but also in its passing from the latin of the monasteries to the language of the common folk. a consequence of the outdoor performance of the plays was that christmas, in the northern countries at all events, was found an unsuitable time for them. the summer was naturally preferred, and we find comparatively few mentions of plays at christmas in the later middle ages. whitsuntide and corpus christi became more popular dates, especially in england, and the pieces then performed were vast cosmic cycles, like the york, chester, towneley, and "coventry" plays, in which the christmas and epiphany episodes formed but links in an immense chain extending from the creation to the last judgment, and representing the whole scheme of salvation. it is in these nativity scenes, however, that we have the only english renderings of the christmas story in drama,{ } and though they | | were actually performed not at the winter festival[ ] but in the summer, they give in so striking a way the feelings, the point of view, of our mediaeval forefathers in regard to the nativity that we are justified in dealing with them here at some length. as the drama became laicized, it came to reflect that strange medley of conflicting elements, pagan and christian, materialistic and spiritual, which was the actual religion of the folk, as distinguished from the philosophical theology of the doctors and councils and the mysticism of the ascetics. the popularizing of christianity had reached its climax in most countries of western europe in the fifteenth century, approximately the period of the great "mysteries." however little the ethical teaching of jesus may have been acted upon, the christian religion on its external side had been thoroughly appropriated by the people and wrought into a many-coloured polytheism, a true reflection of their minds. the figures of the drama are contemporaries of the spectators both in garb and character; they are not orientals of ancient times, but europeans of the end of the middle ages. bethlehem is a "faier borow," herod a "mody king," like unto some haughty, capricious, and violent monarch of the time, the shepherds are rustics of england or germany or france or italy, the magi mighty potentates with gorgeous trains, and the child himself is a little being subject to all the pains and necessities of infancy, but delighted with sweet and pleasant things like a bob of cherries or a ball. the realism of the writers is sometimes astounding, and comic elements often appear--to the people of the middle ages religion was so real and natural a thing that they could laugh at it without ceasing to believe in or to love it. the english mediaeval playwrights, it may safely be said, are surpassed by no foreigners in their treatment of christmas subjects. to illustrate their way of handling the scenes i may | | gather from the four great cycles a few of the most interesting passages. from the so-called "ludus coventriae" i take the arrival of joseph and mary at bethlehem; they ask a man in the street where they may find an inn:-- "_joseph._ heyl, wurchepful sere, and good day! a ceteceyn of this cytë ye seme to be; of herborwe[ ] ffor spowse and me i yow pray, ffor trewly this woman is fful werë, and fayn at reste, sere, wold she be; we wolde ffulffylle the byddynge of oure emperoure, ffor to pay tribute, as right is oure, and to kepe oureselfe ffrom dolowre, we are come to this cytë. _cives._ sere, ostage in this towne know i non, thin wyff and thou in for to slepe; this cetë is besett with pepyl every won, and yett thei ly withowte fful every strete. withinne no walle, man, comyst thou nowth, be thou onys[ ] withinne the cytë gate; onethys[ ] in the strete a place may be sowth, theron to reste, withowte debate. _joseph._ nay, sere, debate that wyl i nowth; alle suche thyngys passyn my powere: but yitt my care and alle my thought is for mary, my derlynge dere. a! swete wyff, wat xal we do? wher xal we logge this nyght? onto the ffadyr of heffne pray we so, us to kepe ffrom every wykkyd whyt. _cives._ good man, o word i wyl the sey, if thou wylt do by the counsel of me; yondyr is an hous of haras[ ] that stant be the wey, amonge the bestys herboryd may ye be. | | _maria._ now the fadyr of hefne he mut yow yelde! his sone in my wombe forsothe he is; he kepe the and thi good be fryth and ffelde! go we hens, husbond, for now tyme it is."{ } the scene immediately after the nativity is delicately and reverently presented in the york cycle. the virgin worships the child, saluting him thus:-- "hayle my lord god! hayle prince of pees! hayle my fadir, and hayle my sone! hayle souereyne sege all synnes to sesse! hayle god and man in erth to wonne![ ] hayle! thurgh whos myht all this worlde was first be-gonne, merkness[ ] and light. sone, as i am sympill sugett of thyne, vowchesaffe, swete sone i pray the, that i myght the take in the[r] armys of mine, and in this poure wede to arraie the; graunte me thi blisse! as i am thy modir chosen to be in sothfastnesse." joseph, who has gone out to get a light, returns, and this dialogue follows:-- "_joseph._ say, marie doghtir, what chere with the? _mary._ right goode, joseph, as has been ay. _joseph._ o marie! what swete thyng is that on thy kne? _mary._ it is my sone, the soth to saye, that is so gud _joseph._ wel is me i bade this day, to se this foode![ ] me merueles mekill of this light that thus-gates shynes in this place, for suth it is a selcouth[ ] sight! | | _mary._ this hase he ordand of his grace, my sone so ying, a starne to be schynyng a space at his bering * * * * * _joseph._ nowe welcome, floure fairest of hewe, i shall the menske[ ] with mayne and myght. hayle! my maker, hayle crist jesu! hayle, riall king, roote of all right! hayle, saueour. hayle, my lorde, lemer[ ] of light, hayle, blessid floure! _mary._ nowe lord! that all this worlde schall wynne, to the my sone is that i saye, here is no bedde to laye the inne, therfore my dere sone, i the praye sen it is soo, here in this cribbe i myght the lay betwene ther bestis two. and i sall happe[ ] the, myn owne dere childe, with such clothes as we haue here. _joseph._ o marie! beholde thes beestis mylde, they make louyng in ther manere as thei wer men. for-sothe it semes wele be ther chere thare lord thei ken. _mary._ ther lorde thai kenne, that wate i wele, they worshippe hym with myght and mayne; the wedir is colde, as ye may feele, to halde hym warme thei are full fayne, with thare warme breth."{ } the playwrights are at their best in the shepherd scenes; indeed these are the most original parts of the cycles, for here the writers found little to help them in theological tradition, and were thrown upon their own wit. in humorous dialogue and naïve sentiment the lusty burgesses of the fifteenth century were thoroughly at home, and the comedy and pathos of these scenes must have been as welcome a relief to the spectators, from the | | long-winded solemnity of many of the plays, as they are to modern readers. in the york mysteries the shepherds make uncouth exclamations at the song of the angels and ludicrously try to imitate it. the chester shepherds talk in a very natural way of such things as the diseases of sheep, sit down with much relish to a meal of "ale of halton," sour milk, onions, garlick and leeks, green cheese, a sheep's head soused in ale, and other items; then they call their lad trowle, who grumbles because his wages have not been paid, refuses to eat, wrestles with his masters and throws them all. they sit down discomfited; then the star of bethlehem appears, filling them with wonder, which grows when they hear the angels' song of "gloria in excelsis." they discuss what the words were--"glore, glare with a glee," or, "glori, glory, glorious," or, "glory, glory, with a glo." at length they go to bethlehem, and arrived at the stable, the first shepherd exclaims:-- "sym, sym, sickerlye heare i see marye, and jesus christe faste by, lapped in haye."{ } joseph is strangely described:-- "whatever this oulde man that heare is, take heede howe his head is whore, his beirde is like a buske of breyers, with a pound of heaire about his mouth and more."{ } their gifts to the infant are a bell, a flask, a spoon to eat pottage with, and a cape. trowle the servant has nought to offer but a pair of his wife's old hose; four boys follow with presents of a bottle, a hood, a pipe, and a nut-hook. quaint are the words of the last two givers:-- "_the thirde boye._ o, noble childe of thee! alas! what have i for thee, save only my pipe? | | elles trewly nothinge, were i in the rockes or in, i coulde make this pippe that all this woode should ringe, and quiver, as yt were. _the fourth boye._ nowe, childe, although thou be comon from god, and be god thy selfe in thy manhoode, yet i knowe that in thy childehoode thou wylte for sweete meate loke, to pull downe aples, peares, and plumes, oulde joseph shall not nede to hurte his thombes, because thou hast not pleintie of crombes, i geve thee heare my nutthocke."{ } let no one deem this irreverent; the spirit of this adoration of the shepherds is intensely devout; they go away longing to tell all the world the wonder they have seen; one will become a pilgrim; even the rough trowle exclaims that he will forsake the shepherd's craft and will betake himself to an anchorite's hard by, in prayers to "wache and wake." more famous than this chester "pastores" are the two shepherd plays in the towneley cycle.{ } the first begins with racy talk, leading to a wrangle between two of the shepherds about some imaginary sheep; then a third arrives and makes fun of them both; a feast follows, with much homely detail; they go to sleep and are awakened by the angelic message; after much debate over its meaning and over the foretellings of the prophets--one of them, strangely enough, quotes a latin passage from virgil--they go to bethlehem and present to the child a "lytyll spruse cofer," a ball, and a gourd-bottle. the second play surpasses in humour anything else in the mediaeval drama of any country. we find the shepherds first complaining of the cold and their hard lot; they are "al lappyd in sorow." they talk, almost like modern socialists, of the oppressions of the rich:-- "for the tylthe of our landys lyys falow as the floore, as ye ken. | | we ar so hamyd,[ ] for-taxed and ramyd,[ ] we ar mayde hand-tamyd, with thyse gentlery men. thus thay refe[ ] us our rest, our lady theym wary![ ] these men that ar lord-fest,[ ] they cause the ploghe tary." to these shepherds joins himself mak, a thieving neighbour. going to sleep, they make him lie between them, for they doubt his honesty. but for all their precautions he manages to steal a sheep, and carries it home to his wife. she thinks of an ingenious plan for concealing it from the shepherds if they visit the cottage seeking their lost property: she will pretend that she is in child-bed and that the sheep is the new-born infant. so it is wrapped up and laid in a cradle, and mak sings a lullaby. the shepherds do suspect mak, and come to search his house; his wife upbraids them and keeps them from the cradle. they depart, but suddenly an idea comes to one of them:-- "_the first shepherd._ gaf ye the chyld any thyng? _the second._ i trow not oone farthyng. _the third._ fast agane will i flyng, abyde ye me there. [_he goes back._] mak, take it to no grefe, if i com to thi barne." mak tries to put him off, but the shepherd will have his way:-- "gyf me lefe hym to kys, and lyft up the clowtt. what the devill is this? he has a long snowte." so the secret is out. mak's wife gives a desperate explanation:-- "he was takyn with an elfe, i saw it myself. when the clok stroke twelf was he forshapyn." | | naturally this avails nothing, and her husband is given a good tossing by the shepherds until they are tired out and lie down to rest. then comes the "gloria in excelsis" and the call of the angel:-- "ryse, hyrd men heynd! for now is he borne that shall take fro the feynd that adam had lorne: that warloo[ ] to sheynd,[ ] this nyght is he borne, god is made youre freynd: now at this morne he behestys, at bedlem go se, ther lygys that fre[ ] in a cryb fulle poorely, betwyx two bestys." the shepherds wonder at the song, and one of them tries to imitate it; then they go even unto bethlehem, and there follows the quaintest and most delightful of christmas carols:-- "_primus pastor._ hail, comly and clene, hail, yong child! hail, maker, as i meene, of a maden so milde! thou has warëd,[ ] i weene, the warlo[ ] so wilde; the fals giler of teen,[ ] now goes he begilde. lo! he merys,[ ] lo! he laghës, my sweting. a welfare meting! i have holden my heting.[ ] have a bob of cherys! _secundus pastor._ hail, sufferan savioure, for thou has us soght! hail, frely[ ] foyde[ ] and floure, that all thing has wroght! | | hail, full of favoure, that made all of noght! hail, i kneel and i cowre. a bird have i broght to my barne. hail, litel tinë mop![ ] of oure crede thou art crop;[ ] i wold drink on thy cop, litel day starne. _tertius pastor._ hail, derling dere, full of godhede! i pray thee be nere when that i have nede. hail! swete is thy chere;[ ] my hart woldë blede to see thee sitt here in so poorë wede, with no pennys. hail! put forth thy dall![ ] i bring thee bot a ball; have and play thee with all, and go to the tenis!"{ } the charm of this will be felt by every reader; it lies in a curious incongruity--extreme homeliness joined to awe; the infinite is contained within the narrowest human bounds; god himself, the creator and sustainer of the universe, a weak, helpless child. but a step more, and all would have been irreverence; as it is we have devotion, human, naïve, and touching. it would be interesting to show how other scenes connected with christmas are handled in the english miracle-plays: how octavian (caesar augustus) sent out the decree that all the world should be taxed, and learned from the sibyl the birth of christ; how the magi were led by the star and offered their symbolic gifts; how the raging of the boastful tyrant herod, the | | slaughter of the innocents, and the flight into egypt are treated; but these scenes, though full of colour, are on the whole less remarkable than the shepherd and nativity pieces, and space forbids us to dwell upon them. they contain many curious anachronisms, as when herod invokes mahounde, and talks about his princes, prelates, barons, baronets and burgesses.[ ] the religious play in england did not long survive the reformation. under the influence of protestantism, with its vigilant dread of profanity and superstition, the cycles were shorn of many of their scenes, the performances became irregular, and by the end of the sixteenth century they had mostly ceased to be. not sacred story, but the play of human character, was henceforth the material of the drama. the rich, variegated religion of the people, communal in its expression, tinged everywhere with human colour, gave place to a sterner, colder, more individual faith, fearful of contamination by the use of the outward and visible. * * * * * there is little or no trace in the vernacular christmas plays of direct translation from one language into another, though there was some borrowing of motives. thus the christmas drama of each nation has its own special flavour. if we turn to france, we find a remarkable fifteenth-century cycle that belongs purely to the winter festival, and shows the strictly christmas drama at its fullest development. this great mystery of the "incarnacion et nativité de nostre saulveur et redempteur jesuchrist" was performed out-of-doors at rouen in , an exceptional event for a northern city in winter-time. the twenty-four _establies_ or "mansions" set up for the various scenes reached across the market-place from the "axe and crown" inn to the "angel." | | after a prologue briefly explaining its purpose, the mystery begins, like the old liturgical plays, with the witness of the prophets; then follows a scene in limbo where adam is shown lamenting his fate, and another in heaven where the redemption of mankind is discussed and the incarnation decided upon. with the annunciation and the visitation of the virgin the first day closed. the second day opened with the ordering by octavian of the world-census. the edict is addressed:-- "a tous roys, marquis, ducs et contes, connestables, bailifs, vicomtes et tous autres generalment qui sont desoubz le firmament." joseph, in order to fulfil the command of cyrenius, governor of syria, leaves nazareth for bethlehem. a comic shepherds' scene follows, with a rustic song:-- "joyeusement, la garenlo, chantons en venant a la veille, puisque nous avons la bouteille nous y berons jusques a bo." when joseph and mary reach the stable where the nativity is to take place, there is a charming dialogue. joseph laments over the meanness of the stable, mary accepts it with calm resignation. _joseph._ "las! vecy bien povre merrien pour edifier un hostel et logis a ung seigneur tel. il naistra en bien povre place. _marie._ il plait a dieu qu'ainsy se face. * * * * * _joseph._ ou sont ces chambres tant fournies de sarges, de tapiceries | | batus d'or, ou luyt mainte pierre, et nates mises sur la terre, affin que le froit ne mefface? _marie._ il plait a dieu qu'ainsy se face. * * * * * _joseph._ helas! cy gerra povrement le createur du firmament celui qui fait le soleil luire, qui fait la terre fruis produire, qui tient la mer en son espace. _marie._ il plait a dieu qu'ainsy se face." at last christ is born, welcomed by the song of the angels, adored by his mother. in the heathen temples the idols fall; hell mouth opens and shows the rage of the demons, who make a hideous noise; fire issues from the nostrils and eyes and ears of hell, which shuts up with the devils within it. and then the angels in the stable worship the child jesus. the adoration of the shepherds was shown with many naïve details for the delight of the people, and the performance ended with the offering of a sacrifice in rome by the emperor octavian to an image of the blessed virgin.{ } the french playwrights, quite as much as the english, love comic shepherd scenes with plenty of eating and drinking and brawling. a traditional figure is the shepherd rifflart, always a laughable type. in the strictly mediaeval plays the shepherds are true french rustics, but with the progress of the renaissance classical elements creep into the pastoral scenes; in a mystery printed in orpheus with the nymphs and oreads is introduced. as might be expected, anachronisms often occur; a peculiarly piquant instance is found in the s. geneviève mystery, where caesar augustus gets a piece of latin translated into french for his convenience. [illustration: the shepherds of bethlehem. from "le grant kalendrier compost des bergiers" (n. le rouge, troyes, ). (reproduced from a modern broadside published by mr. f. sidgwick.)] | | late examples of french christmas mysteries are the so-called "comedies" of the nativity, adoration of the kings, massacre of the innocents, and flight into egypt contained in the "marguerites" (published in ) of marguerite, queen of navarre, sister of françois i. intermingled with the traditional figures treated more or less in the traditional way are personified abstractions like philosophy, tribulation, inspiration, divine intelligence, and contemplation, which largely rob the plays of dramatic effect. there is some true poetry in these pieces, but too much theological learning and too little simplicity, and in one place the ideas of calvin seem to show themselves.{ } the french mystery began to fall into decay about the middle of the sixteenth century. it was attacked on every side: by the new poets of the renaissance, who preferred classical to christian subjects; by the protestants, who deemed the religious drama a trifling with the solemn truths of scripture; and even by the catholic clergy, who, roused to greater strictness by the challenge of protestantism, found the comic elements in the plays offensive and dangerous, and perhaps feared that too great familiarity with the bible as represented in the mysteries might lead the people into heresy.{ } yet we hear occasionally of christmas dramas in france in the seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth centuries. in the neighbourhood of nantes, for instance, a play of the nativity by claude macée, hermit, probably written in the seventeenth century, was commonly performed in the first half of the nineteenth.{ } at clermont the adoration of the shepherds was still performed in , and some kind of representation of the scene continued in the diocese of cambrai until , when it was forbidden by the bishop. in the south, especially at marseilles, "pastorals" were played towards the end of the nineteenth century; they had, however, largely lost their sacred character, and had become a kind of review of the events of the year.{ } at dinan, in brittany, some sort of herod play was performed, though it was dying out, in . it was acted by young men on the epiphany, and there was an "innocent" whose throat they pretended to cut with a wooden sword.{ } | | an interesting summary of a very full nativity play performed in the churches of upper gascony on christmas eve is given by countess martinengo-cesaresco.{ } it ranges from the arrival of joseph and mary at bethlehem to the flight into egypt and the murder of the innocents, but perhaps the most interesting parts are the shepherd scenes. after the message of the angel--a child in a surplice, with wings fastened to his shoulders, seated on a chair drawn up to the ceiling and supported by ropes--the shepherds leave the church, the whole of which is now regarded as the stable of the divine birth. they knock for admittance, and joseph, regretting that the chamber is "so badly lighted," lets them in. they fall down before the manger, and so do the shepherdesses, who "deposit on the altar steps a banner covered with flowers and greenery, from which hang strings of small birds, apples, nuts, chestnuts, and other fruits. it is their christmas offering to the curé; the shepherds have already placed a whole sheep before the altar, in a like spirit." the play is not mere dumb-show, but has a full libretto. a rather similar piece of dramatic ceremonial is described by barthélemy in his edition of durandus,{ } as customary in the eighteenth century at la villeneuve-en-chevrie, near mantes. at the midnight mass a _crèche_ with a wax figure of the holy child was placed in the choir, with tapers burning about it. after the "te deum" had been sung, the celebrant, accompanied by his attendants, censed the _crèche_, to the sound of violins, double-basses, and other instruments. a shepherd then prostrated himself before the crib, holding a sheep with a sort of little saddle bearing sixteen lighted candles. he was followed by two shepherdesses in white with distaffs and tapers. a second shepherd, between two shepherdesses, carried a laurel branch, to which were fastened oranges, lemons, biscuits, and sweetmeats. two others brought great _pains-bénits_ and lighted candles; then came four shepherdesses, who made their adoration, and lastly twenty-six more shepherds, two by two, bearing in one hand a candle and in the other a festooned crook. the same ceremonial was practised at the offertory and after the close of the mass. all was done, it is said, with such piety and edification that | | st. luke's words about the bethlehem shepherds were true of these french swains--they "returned glorifying and praising god for all the things they had heard and seen." * * * * * in german there remain very few christmas plays earlier than the fifteenth century. later periods, however, have produced a multitude, and dramatic performances at christmas have continued down to quite modern times in german-speaking parts. at oberufer near pressburg--a german protestant village in hungary--some fifty years ago, a christmas play was performed under the direction of an old farmer, whose office as instructor had descended from father to son. the play took place at intervals of from three to ten years and was acted on all sundays and festivals from advent to the epiphany. great care was taken to ensure the strictest piety and morality in the actors, and no secular music was allowed in the place during the season for the performances. the practices began as early as october. on the first sunday in advent there was a solemn procession to the hall hired for the play. first went a man bearing a gigantic star--he was called the "master singer"--and another carrying a christmas-tree decked with ribbons and apples; then came all the actors, singing hymns. there was no scenery and no theatrical apparatus beyond a straw-seated chair and a wooden stool. when the first was used, the scene was understood to be jerusalem, when the second, bethlehem. the christmas drama, immediately preceded by an adam and eve play, and succeeded by a shrove tuesday one, followed mediaeval lines, and included the wanderings of joseph and mary round the inns of bethlehem, the angelic tidings to the shepherds, their visit to the manger, the adoration of the three kings, and various herod scenes. protestant influence was shown by the introduction of luther's "vom himmel hoch," but the general character was very much that of the old mysteries, and the dialogue was full of quaint naïveté.{ } at brixlegg, in tyrol, as late as a long christmas play was acted under catholic auspices; some of its dialogue was in | | the tyrolese _patois_ and racy and humorous, other parts, and particularly the speeches of mary and joseph--out of respect for these holy personages--had been rewritten in the eighteenth century in a very stilted and undramatic style. some simple shepherd plays are said to be still presented in the churches of the saxon erzgebirge.{ } the german language is perhaps richer in real christmas plays, as distinguished from nativity and epiphany episodes in great cosmic cycles, than any other. there are some examples in mediaeval manuscripts, but the most interesting are shorter pieces performed in country places in comparatively recent times, and probably largely traditional in substance. christianity by the fourteenth century had at last gained a real hold upon the german people, or perhaps one should rather say the german people had laid a strong hold upon christianity, moulding it into something very human and concrete, materialistic often, yet not without spiritual significance. in cradle-rocking and religious dancing at christmas the instincts of a lusty, kindly race expressed themselves, and the same character is shown in the short popular christmas dramas collected by weinhold and others.{ } many of the little pieces--some are rather duets than plays--were sung or acted in church or by the fireside in the nineteenth century, and perhaps even now may linger in remote places. they are in dialect, and the rusticity of their language harmonizes well with their naïve, homely sentiment. in them we behold the scenes of bethlehem as realized by peasants, and their mixture of rough humour and tender feeling is thoroughly in keeping with the subject. one is made to feel very vividly the amazement of the shepherds at the wondrous and sudden apparition of the angels:-- "_riepl._ woas is das für a getümmel, i versteh mi nit in d'welt. _jörgl._ is den heunt eingfalln der himmel, fleugn d'engeln auf unserm feld? _r._ thuen sprüng macha _j._ von oben acha! | | _r._ i turft das ding nit noacha thoan, that mir brechn hals und boan."[ ]{ } the cold is keenly brought home to us when they come to the manger:-- "_j._ mei kind, kanst kei herberg finden? muest so viel frost leiden schoan. _r._ ligst du under kalden windeln! lägts ihm doch a gwandl oan! _j._ machts ihm d'füess ein, hüllts in zue fein!"[ ]{ } very homely are their presents to the child:-- "ein drei eier und ein butter bringen wir auch, nemt es an! einen han zu einer suppen, wanns die mutter kochen kann. giessts ein schmalz drein, wirds wol guet sein. weil wir sonsten gar nix han, sind wir selber arme hirten, nemts den guten willen an."[ ]{ } one of the dialogues ends with a curious piece of ordinary human kindliness, as if the divine nature of the infant were quite forgotten for the moment:-- "_j._ bleib halt fein gsund, mein kloans liebl, wannst woas brauchst, so komm ze mir. * * * * * _j._ pfüet di gôt halt! | | _r._ wär fein gross bald! _j._ kannst in mein dienst stehen ein, wann darzu wirst gross gnue sein."[ ]{ } far more interesting in their realism and naturalness are these little plays of the common folk than the elaborate christmas dramas of more learned german writers, catholic and lutheran, who in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries became increasingly stilted and bombastic. * * * * * the italian religious drama{ } evolved somewhat differently from that of the northern countries. the later thirteenth century saw the outbreak of the fanaticism of the flagellants or _battuti_, vast crowds of people of all classes who went in procession from church to church, from city to city, scourging their naked bodies in terror and repentance till the blood flowed. when the wild enthusiasm of this movement subsided it left enduring traces in the foundation of lay communities throughout the land, continuing in a more sober way the penitential practices of the flagellants. one of their aids to devotion was the singing or reciting of vernacular poetry, less formal than the latin hymns of the liturgy, and known as _laude_.[ ] these _laude_ developed a more or less dramatic form, which gained the name of _divozioni_.[ ] they were, perhaps (though not certainly, for there seems to have been another tradition derived from the regular liturgical drama), the source from which sprang the gorgeously produced _sacre rappresentazioni_ of the fifteenth century. the _sacre rappresentazioni_ corresponded, though with considerable differences, to the miracle-plays of england and france. their great period was the fifty years from to , and | | they were performed, like the _divozioni_, by confraternities of religious laymen. the actors were boys belonging to the brotherhoods, and the plays were intended to be edifying for youth. they are more refined than the northern religious dramas, but only too often fall into insipidity. among the texts given by d'ancona in his collection of _sacre rappresentazioni_ is a tuscan "natività,"{ } opening with a pastoral scene resembling those in the northern mysteries, but far less vigorous. it cannot compare, for character and humour, with the towneley plays. still the shepherds, whose names are bobi del farucchio, nencio di pucchio, randello, nencietto, giordano, and falconcello, are at least meant to have a certain rusticity, as they feast on bread and cheese and wine, play to the saviour on bagpipe or whistle, and offer humble presents like apples and cheese. the scenes which follow, the coming of the magi and the murder of the innocents, are not intrinsically of great interest. it is possible that this play may have been the spectacle performed in florence in , as recorded by machiavelli, "to give men something to take away their thoughts from affairs of state." it "represented the coming of the three magi kings from the east, following the star which showed the nativity of christ, and it was of so great pomp and magnificence that it kept the whole city busy for several months in arranging and preparing it."{ } an earlier record of an italian pageant of the magi is this account by the chronicler galvano flamma of what took place at milan in :-- "there were three kings crowned, on great horses, ... and an exceeding great train. and there was a golden star running through the air, which went before these three kings, and they came to the columns of san lorenzo, where was king herod in effigy, with the scribes and wise men. and they were seen to ask king herod where christ was born, and having turned over many books they answered, that he should be born in the city of david distant five miles from jerusalem. and having heard this, those three kings, crowned with golden crowns, holding in their hands golden cups with gold, incense, | | and myrrh, came to the church of sant' eustorgio, the star preceding them through the air, ... and a wonderful train, with resounding trumpets and horns going before them, with apes, baboons, and diverse kinds of animals, and a marvellous tumult of people. there at the side of the high altar was a manger with ox and ass, and in the manger was the little christ in the arms of the virgin mother. and those kings offered gifts unto christ; then they were seen to sleep, and a winged angel said to them that they should not return by the region of san lorenzo but by the porta romana; which also was done. there was so great a concourse of the people and soldiers and ladies and clerics that scarce anything like it was ever beheld. and it was ordered that every year this festal show should be performed."{ } how suggestive this is of the magi pictures of the fifteenth century, with their gorgeous eastern monarchs and retinues of countless servants and strange animals. no other story in the new testament gives such opportunity for pageantry as the magi scene. all the wonder, richness, and romance of the east, all the splendour of western renaissance princes could lawfully be introduced into the train of the three kings. with gentile da fabriano and benozzo gozzoli it has become a magnificent procession; there are trumpeters, pages, jesters, dwarfs, exotic beasts--all the motley, gorgeous retinue of the monarchs of the time, while the kings themselves are romantic figures in richest attire, velvet, brocade, wrought gold, and jewels. it may be that much of this splendour was suggested to the painters by dramatic spectacles which actually passed before their eyes. * * * * * i have already alluded to the spanish "mystery of the magi kings," a mere fragment, but of peculiar interest to the historian of the drama as one of the two earliest religious plays in a modern european language. though plays are known to have been performed in spain at christmas and easter in the middle ages,{ } we have no further texts until the very short "representation of the birth of our lord," by gómez manrique, señor de villazopeque ( - ), acted at the convent at calabazanos, of which the author's sister was superior. the characters | | introduced are the virgin, st. joseph, st. gabriel, st. michael, st. raphael, another angel, and three shepherds.{ } touched by the spirit of the renaissance, and particularly by the influence of virgil, is juan del encina of salamanca ( - ), court poet to the duke of alba, and author of two christmas eclogues.{ } the first introduces four shepherds who bear the names of the evangelists, matthew, mark, luke, and john, and are curiously mixed personages, their words being half what might be expected from the shepherds of bethlehem and half sayings proper only to the authors of the gospels. it ends with a _villancico_ or carol. the second eclogue is far more realistic, and indeed resembles the english and french pastoral scenes. the shepherds grumble about the weather--it has been raining for two months, the floods are terrible, and no fords or bridges are left; they talk of the death of a sacristan, a fine singer; and they play a game with chestnuts; then comes the angel--whom one of them calls a "smartly dressed lad" (_garzon repìcado_)--to tell them of the birth, and they go to adore the child, taking him a kid, butter-cakes, eggs, and other presents. infinitely more ambitious is "the birth of christ"{ } by the great lope de vega ( - ). it opens in paradise, immediately after the creation, and ends with the adoration of the three kings. full of allegorical conceits and personified qualities, it will hardly please the taste of modern minds. another work of lope's, "the shepherds of bethlehem," a long pastoral in prose and verse, published in , contains, amid many incongruities, some of the best of his shorter poems; one lullaby, sung by the virgin in a palm-grove while her child sleeps, has been thus translated by ticknor:-- "holy angels and blest, through these palms as ye sweep, hold their branches at rest, for my babe is asleep. and ye bethlehem palm-trees, as stormy winds rush | | in tempest and fury, your angry noise hush; move gently, move gently, restrain your wild sweep; hold your branches at rest, my babe is asleep. my babe all divine, with earth's sorrows oppressed, seeks in slumber an instant his grievings to rest; he slumbers, he slumbers, o, hush, then, and keep your branches all still, my babe is asleep!"{ } * * * * * apart from such modern revivals of the christmas drama as mr. laurence housman's "bethlehem," miss buckton's "eager heart," mrs. percy dearmer's "the soul of the world," and similar experiments in germany and france, a genuine tradition has lingered on in some parts of europe into modern times. we have already noticed some french and german instances; to these may be added a few from other countries. in naples there is no christmas without the "cantata dei pastori"; it is looked forward to no less than the midnight mass. two or three theatres compete for the public favour in the performance of this play in rude verse. it begins with adam and eve and ends with the birth of jesus and the adoration of the shepherds. many devils are brought on the stage, their arms and legs laden with brass chains that rattle horribly. awful are their names, lucifero, satanasso, belfegor, belzebù, &c. they not only tempt adam and eve, but annoy the virgin and st. joseph, until an angel comes and frightens them away. two non-biblical figures are introduced, razzullo and sarchiapone, who are tempted by devils and aided by angels.{ } in sicily too the christmas play still lingers under the name of _pastorale_.{ } | | a nineteenth-century spanish survival of the "stella" is described in fernan caballero's sketch, "la noche de navidad."{ } at the foot of the altar of the village church, according to this account, images of the virgin and st. joseph were placed, with the holy child between them, lying on straw. on either side knelt a small boy dressed as an angel. solemnly there entered the church a number of men attired as shepherds, bearing their offerings to the child; afterwards they danced with slow and dignified movements before the altar. the shepherds were followed by the richest men of the village dressed as the magi kings, mounted on horseback, and followed by their train. before them went a shining star. on reaching the church they dismounted; the first, representing a majestic old man with white hair, offered incense to the babe; the others, caspar and melchior, myrrh and gold respectively. this was done on the feast of the epiphany. a remnant possibly of the "stella" is to be found in a christmas custom extremely widespread in europe and surviving even in some protestant lands--the carrying about of a star in memory of the star of bethlehem. it is generally borne by a company of boys, who sing some sort of carol, and expect a gift in return. the practice is--or was--found as far north as sweden. all through the christmas season the "star youths" go about from house to house. three are dressed up as the magi kings, a fourth carries on a stick a paper lantern in the form of a six-pointed star, made to revolve and lighted by candles. there are also a judas, who bears the purse for the collection, and, occasionally, a king herod. a doggerel rhyme is sung, telling the story of the nativity and offering good wishes.{ } in norway and denmark processions of a like character were formerly known.{ } in normandy at christmas children used to go singing through the village streets, carrying a lantern of coloured paper on a long osier rod.{ } at pleudihen in brittany three young men representing the magi sang carols in the cottages, dressed in their holiday clothes covered with ribbons.{ } | | in england there appears to be no trace of the custom, which is however found in germany, austria, holland, italy, bohemia, roumania, poland, and russia.{ } in thuringia a curious carol used to be sung, telling how herod tried to tempt the wise men-- "'oh, good wise men, come in and dine; i will give you both beer and wine, and hay and straw to make your bed, and nought of payment shall be said.'" but they answer:-- "'oh, no! oh, no! we must away, we seek a little child to-day, a little child, a mighty king, him who created everything.'"{ } in tyrol the "star-singing" is very much alive at the present day. in the upper innthal three boys in white robes, with blackened faces and gold paper crowns, go to every house on epiphany eve, one of them carrying a golden star on a pole. they sing a carol, half religious, half comic--almost a little drama--and are given money, cake, and drink. in the ilsethal the boys come on christmas eve, and presents are given them by well-to-do people. in some parts there is but one singer, an old man with a white beard and a turban, who twirls a revolving star. a remarkable point about the tyrolese star-singers is that before anything is given them they are told to stamp on the snowy fields outside the houses, in order to promote the growth of the crops in summer.{ } in little russia the "star" is made of pasteboard and has a transparent centre with a picture of christ through which the light of a candle shines. one boy carries the star and another twirls the points.{ } in roumania it is made of wood and adorned with frills and little bells. a representation of the "manger," illuminated from behind, forms the centre, and the star also shows pictures of adam and eve and angels.{ } | | a curious traditional drama, in which pagan elements seem to have mingled with the herod story, is still performed by the roumanians during the christmas festival. it is called in wallachia "vicleim" (from bethlehem), in moldavia and transylvania "irozi" (plural from _irod_ = herod). at least ten persons figure in it: "emperor" herod, an old grumbling monarch who speaks in harsh tones to his followers; an officer and two soldiers in roman attire; the three magi, in oriental garb, a child, and "two comical figures--the _paiata_ (the clown) and the _mosul_, or old man, the former in harlequin accoutrement, the latter with a mask on his face, a long beard, a hunch on his back, and dressed in a sheepskin with the wool on the outside. the plot of the play is quite simple. the officer brings the news that three strange men have been caught, going to bethlehem to adore the new-born messiah; herod orders them to be shown in: they enter singing in a choir. long dialogues ensue between them and herod, who at last orders them to be taken to prison. but then they address the heavenly father, and shout imprecations on herod, invoking celestial punishment on him, at which unaccountable noises are heard, seeming to announce the fulfilment of the curse. herod falters, begs the wise men's forgiveness, putting off his anger till more opportune times. the wise men retire.... then a child is introduced, who goes on his knees before herod, with his hands on his breast, asking pity. he gives clever answers to various questions and foretells the christ's future career, at which herod stabs him. the whole troupe now strikes up a tune of reproach to herod, who falls on his knees in deep repentance." the play is sometimes performed by puppets instead of living actors.{ } christmas plays performed by puppets are found in other countries too. in poland "during the week between christmas and new year is shown the _jaselki_ or manger, a travelling series of scenes from the life of christ or even of modern peasants, a small travelling puppet-theatre, gorgeous with tinsel and candles, and something like our 'punch and judy' show. the market-place of cracow, especially at night, is a very pretty spectacle, its sidewalks all lined with these glittering jaselki."{ } in madrid | | at the epiphany a puppet-play was common, in which the events of the nativity and the infancy were mimed by wooden figures,{ } and in provence, in the mid-nineteenth century, the christmas scenes were represented in the same way.{ } last may be mentioned a curious mexican mixture of religion and amusement, a sort of drama called the "posadas," described by madame calderon de la barca in her "life in mexico" ( ).{ } the custom was based upon the wanderings of the virgin and st. joseph in bethlehem in search of repose. for eight days these wanderings of the holy pair to the different _posadas_ were represented. on christmas eve, says the narrator, "a lighted candle was put into the hand of each lady [this was at a sort of party], and a procession was formed, two by two, which marched all through the house ... the whole party singing the litanies.... a group of little children, dressed as angels, joined the procession.... at last the procession drew up before a door, and a shower of fireworks was sent flying over our heads, i suppose to represent the descent of the angels; for a group of ladies appeared, dressed to represent the shepherds.... then voices, supposed to be those of mary and joseph, struck up a hymn, in which they begged for admittance, saying that the night was cold and dark, that the wind blew hard, and that they prayed for a night's shelter. a chorus of voices from within refused admittance. again those without entreated shelter, and at length declared that she at the door, who thus wandered in the night, and had not where to lay her head, was the queen of heaven! at this name the doors were thrown wide open, and the holy family entered singing. the scene within was very pretty: a _nacimiento_.... one of the angels held a waxen baby in her arms.... a padre took the baby from the angel and placed it in the cradle, and the _posada_ was completed. we then returned to the drawing-room--angels, shepherds, and all, and danced till supper-time."{ } here the religious drama has sunk to little more than a "society" game. [illustration: the adoration of the magi. masaccio (_berlin: kaiser friedrich museum_)] | | postscript before we pass on to the pagan aspects of christmas, let us gather up our thoughts in an attempt to realize the peculiar appeal of the feast of the nativity, as it has been felt in the past, as it is felt to-day even by moderns who have no belief in the historical truth of the story it commemorates. this appeal of christmas seems to lie in the union of two modes of feeling which may be called the _carol spirit_ and the _mystical spirit_. the _carol spirit_--by this we may understand the simple, human joyousness, the tender and graceful imagination, the kindly, intimate affection, which have gathered round the cradle of the christ child. the folk-tune, the secular song adapted to a sacred theme--such is the carol. what a sense of kindliness, not of sentimentality, but of genuine human feeling, these old songs give us, as though the folk who first sang them were more truly comrades, more closely knit together than we under modern industrialism. one element in the carol spirit is the rustic note that finds its sanction as regards christmas in st. luke's story of the shepherds keeping watch over their flocks by night. one thinks of the stillness over the fields, of the hinds with their rough talk, "simply chatting in a rustic row," of the keen air, and the great burst of light and song that dazes their simple wits, of their journey to bethlehem where "the heaven-born child all meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies," of the ox and ass linking the beasts of the field to the christmas adoration of mankind.[ ] for many people, indeed, the charm of christmas is inseparably associated with the country; it is lost in london--the city is too vast, too modern, too sophisticated. it is bound up with the thought of frosty fields, of bells heard far away, of bare trees | | against the starlit sky, of carols sung not by trained choirs but by rustic folk with rough accent, irregular time, and tunes learnt by ear and not by book. again, without the idea of winter half the charm of christmas would be gone. transplanted in the imagination of western christendom from an undefined season in the hot east to europe at midwinter, the nativity scenes have taken on a new pathos with the thought of the bitter cold to which the great little one lay exposed in the rough stable, with the contrast between the cold and darkness of the night and the fire of love veiled beneath that infant form. _lux in tenebris_ is one of the strongest notes of christmas: in the bleak midwinter a light shines through the darkness; when all is cold and gloom, the sky bursts into splendour, and in the dark cave is born the light of the world. there is the idea of royalty too, with all it stands for of colour and magnificence, though not so much in literature as in painting is this side of the christmas story represented. the epiphany is the great opportunity for imaginative development of the regal idea. then is seen the union of utter poverty with highest kingship; the monarchs of the east come to bow before the humble infant for whom the world has found no room in the inn. how suggestive by their long, slow syllables are the italian names of the magi. gasparre, baldassarre, melchiorre--we picture oriental monarchs in robes mysteriously gorgeous, wrought with strange patterns, heavy with gold and precious stones. with slow processional motion they advance, bearing to the king of kings their symbolic gifts, gold for his crowning, incense for his worship, myrrh for his mortality, and with them come the mystery, colour, and perfume of the east, the occult wisdom which bows itself before the revelation in the child. above all, as the foregoing pages have shown, it is the _childhood_ of the redeemer that has won the heart of europe for christmas; it is the appeal to the parental instinct, the love for the tender, weak, helpless, yet all-potential babe, that has given the church's festival its strongest hold. and this side of christmas is penetrated often by the _mystical spirit_--that sense of the infinite in the finite without which the highest human life is impossible. | | the feeling for christmas varies from mere delight in the christ child as a representative symbol on which to lavish affection, as a child delights in a doll, to the mystical philosophy of eckhart, in whose christmas sermons the nativity is viewed as a type of the birth of god in the depths of man's being. yet even the least spiritual forms of the cult of the child are seldom without some hint of the supersensual, the infinite, and even in eckhart there is a love of concrete symbolism. christmas stands peculiarly for the sacramental principle that the outward and visible is a sign and shadow of the inward and spiritual. it means the seeing of common, earthly things shot through by the glory of the infinite. "its note," as has been said of a stage of the mystic consciousness, the illuminative way, "is sacramental not ascetic. it entails ... the discovery of the perfect one ablaze in the many, not the forsaking of the many in order to find the one ... an ineffable radiance, a beauty and a reality never before suspected, are perceived by a sort of clairvoyance shining in the meanest things."{ } christmas is the festival of the divine immanence, and it is natural that it should have been beloved by the saint and mystic whose life was the supreme manifestation of the _via illuminativa_, francis of assisi. christmas is the most human and lovable of the church's feasts. easter and ascensiontide speak of the rising and exaltation of a glorious being, clothed in a spiritual body refined beyond all comparison with our natural flesh; whitsuntide tells of the coming of a mysterious, intangible power--like the wind, we cannot tell whence it cometh and whither it goeth; trinity offers for contemplation an ineffable paradox of pure being. but the god of christmas is no ethereal form, no mere spiritual essence, but a very human child, feeling the cold and the roughness of the straw, needing to be warmed and fed and cherished. christmas is the festival of the natural body, of this world; it means the consecration of the ordinary things of life, affection and comradeship, eating and drinking and merrymaking; and in some degree the memory of the incarnation has been able to blend with the pagan joyance of the new year. | | | | part ii--pagan survivals | | | | chapter vi pre-christian winter festivals the church and superstition--nature of pagan survivals--racial origins--roman festivals of the _saturnalia_ and kalends--was there a teutonic midwinter festival?--the teutonic, celtic, and slav new year--customs attracted to christmas or january --the winter cycle of festivals--_rationale_ of festival ritual: (_a_) sacrifice and sacrament, (_b_) the cult of the dead, (_c_) omens and charms for the new year--compromise in the later middle ages--the puritans and christmas--decay of old traditions. [illustration: new year mummers in manchuria. an asiatic example of animal masks.] we have now to leave the commemoration of the nativity of christ, and to turn to the other side of christmas--its many traditional observances which, though sometimes coloured by christianity, have nothing to do with the birth of the redeemer. this class of customs has often, especially in the first millennium of our era, been the object of condemnations by ecclesiastics, and represents the old paganism which christianity failed to extinguish. the church has played a double part, a part of sheer antagonism, forcing heathen customs into the shade, into a more or less surreptitious and unprogressive life, and a part of adaptation, baptizing them into christ, giving them a christian name and interpretation, and often modifying their form. the general effect of christianity upon pagan usages is well suggested by dr. karl pearson:-- "what the missionary could he repressed, the more as his church grew in strength; what he could not repress he adopted or simply left unregarded.... what the missionary tried to repress became mediaeval witchcraft; what he judiciously disregarded survives to this | | day in peasant weddings and in the folk-festivals at the great changes of season."{ } we find then many pagan practices concealed beneath a superficial christianity--often under the mantle of some saint--but side by side with these are many usages never christianized even in appearance, and obviously identical with heathen customs against which the church thundered in the days of her youth. grown old and tolerant--except of novelties--she has long since ceased to attack them, and they have themselves mostly lost all definite religious meaning. as the old pagan faith decayed, they tended to become in a literal sense "superstition," something standing over, like shells from which the living occupant has gone. they are now often mere "survivals" in the technical folk-lore sense, pieces of custom separated from the beliefs that once gave them meaning, performed only because in a vague sort of way they are supposed to bring good luck. in many cases those who practise them would be quite unable to explain how or why they work for good. mental inertia, the instinct to do and believe what has always been done and believed, has sometimes preserved the animating faith as well as the external form of these practices, but often all serious significance has departed. what was once religious or magical ritual, upon the due observance of which the welfare of the community was believed to depend, has become mere pageantry and amusement, often a mere children's game.{ } sometimes the spirit of a later age has worked upon these pagan customs, revivifying and transforming them, giving them charm. often, however, one does not find in them the poetry, the warm humanity, the humour, which mark the creations of popular catholicism. they are fossils and their interest is that of the fossil: they are records of a vanished world and help us to an imaginative reconstruction of it. but further, just as on a stratum of rock rich in fossils there may be fair meadows and gardens and groves, depending for their life on the denudation of the rock beneath, so have these ancient religious products largely supplied the soil in which more spiritual and more | | beautiful things have flourished. amid these, as has been well said, "they still emerge, unchanged and unchanging, like the quaint outcrops of some ancient rock formation amid rich vegetation and fragrant flowers."{ } the survivals of pagan religion at christian festivals relate not so much to the worship of definite divinities--against this the missionaries made their most determined efforts, and the names of the old gods have practically disappeared--as to cults which preceded the development of anthropomorphic gods with names and attributes. these cults, paid to less personally conceived spirits, were of older standing and no doubt had deeper roots in the popular mind. fundamentally associated with agricultural and pastoral life, they have in many cases been preserved by the most conservative element in the population, the peasantry. many of the customs we shall meet with are magical, rather than religious in the proper sense; they are not directed to the conciliation of spiritual beings, but spring from primitive man's belief "that in order to produce the great phenomena of nature on which his life depended he had only to imitate them."{ } even when they have a definitely religious character, and are connected with some spirit, magical elements are often found in them. before we consider these customs in detail it will be necessary to survey the pagan festivals briefly alluded to in chapter i., to note the various ideas and practices that characterized them, and to study the attitude of the church towards survivals of such practices while the conversion of europe was in progress, and also during the middle ages. the development of religious custom and belief in europe is a matter of such vast complexity that i cannot in a book of this kind attempt more than the roughest outline of the probable origins of the observances, purely pagan or half-christianized, clustering round christmas. it is difficult, in the present state of knowledge, to discern clearly the contributions of different peoples to the traditional customs of europe, and even, in many cases, to say whether a given custom is "aryan" or pre-aryan. the proportion of the aryan military aristocracy to the peoples whom they conquered was not uniform in all countries, and | | probably was often small. while the families of the conquerors succeeded in imposing their languages, it by no means necessarily follows that the folk-practices of countries now aryan in speech came entirely or even chiefly from aryan sources. religious tradition has a marvellous power of persistence, and it must be remembered that the lands conquered by men of aryan speech had been previously occupied for immense periods.{ } similarly, in countries like our own, which have been successively invaded by celts, romans, anglo-saxons, danes, and normans, it is often extraordinarily hard to say even to what _national_ source a given custom should be assigned. it is but tentatively and with uncertain hands that scholars are trying to separate the racial strains in the folk-traditions of europe, and here i can hardly do more than point out three formative elements in christian customs: the ecclesiastical, the classical (greek and roman), and the barbarian, taking the last broadly and without a minute racial analysis. so far, indeed, as ritual, apart from mythology, is concerned, there seems to be a broad common ground of tradition among the aryan-speaking peoples. how far this is due to a common derivation we need not here attempt to decide. the folk-lore of the whole world, it is to be noted, "reveals for the same stages of civilization a wonderful uniformity and homogeneity.... this uniformity is not, however, due to necessary uniformity of origin, but to a great extent to the fact that it represents the state of equilibrium arrived at between minds at a certain level and their environment."{ } the scientific study of primitive religion is still almost in its infancy, and a large amount of conjecture must necessarily enter into any explanations of popular ritual that can be offered. in attempting to account for christmas customs we must be mindful, therefore, of the tentative nature of the theories put forward. again, it is important to remember that ritual practices are far more enduring than the explanations given to them. "the antique religions," to quote the words of robertson smith, "had for the most part no creed; they consisted entirely of institutions and practices ... as a rule we find that while the practice was | | rigorously fixed, the meaning attached to it was extremely vague, and the same rite was explained by different people in different ways."{ } thus if we can arrive at the significance of a rite at a given period, it by no means follows that those who began it meant the same thing. at the time of the conflict of the heathen religions with christianity elaborate structures of mythology had grown up around their traditional ceremonial, assigning to it meanings that had often little to do with its original purpose. often, too, when the purpose was changed, new ceremonies were added, so that a rite may look very unlike what it was at first. with these cautions and reservations we must now try to trace the connection between present-day or recent goings-on about christmas-time and the festival practices of pre-christian europe. * * * * * christmas, as we saw in chapter i., has taken the date of the _natalis invicti_. we need not linger over this feast, for it was not attended by folk-customs, and there is nothing to connect it with modern survivals. the roman festivals that really count for our present purpose are the kalends of january and, probably, the _saturnalia_. the influence of the kalends is strongest naturally in the latin countries, but is found also all over europe. the influence of the _saturnalia_ is less certain; the festival is not mentioned in ecclesiastical condemnations after the institution of christmas, and possibly its popularity was not so widespread as that of the kalends. there are, however, some curiously interesting christmas parallels to its usages. the strictly religious feast of the _saturnalia_{ } was held on december , but the festal customs were kept up for seven days, thus lasting until the day before our christmas eve. among them was a fair called the _sigillariorum celebritas_, for the sale of little images of clay or paste which were given away as presents.[ ] candles seem also to have been given away, perhaps | | as symbols of, or even charms to ensure, the return of the sun's power after the solstice. the most remarkable and typical feature, however, of the _saturnalia_ was the mingling of all classes in a common jollity. something of the character of the celebration (in a hellenized form) may be gathered from the "cronia" or "saturnalia" of lucian, a dialogue between cronus or saturn and his priest. we learn from it that the festivities were marked by "drinking and being drunk, noise and games and dice, appointing of kings and feasting of slaves, singing naked, clapping of tremulous hands, an occasional ducking of corked faces in icy water," and that slaves had licence to revile their lords.{ } the spirit of the season may be judged from the legislation which lucian attributes to cronosolon, priest and prophet of cronus, much as a modern writer might make father christmas or santa klaus lay down rules for the due observance of yule. here are some of the laws:-- "_all business, be it public or private, is forbidden during the feast days, save such as tends to sport and solace and delight. let none follow their avocations saving cooks and bakers._ _all men shall be equal, slave and free, rich and poor, one with another._ _anger, resentment, threats, are contrary to law._ _no discourse shall be either composed or delivered, except it be witty and lusty, conducing to mirth and jollity._" there follow directions as to the sending of presents of money, clothing, or vessels, by rich men to poor friends, and as to poor men's gifts in return. if the poor man have learning, his return gift is to be "an ancient book, but of good omen and festive humour, or a writing of his own after his ability.... for the unlearned, let him send a garland or grains of frankincense." the "cronosolon" closes with "laws of the board," of which the following are a few:-- "_every man shall take place as chance may direct; dignities and birth and wealth shall give no precedence._ | | _all shall be served with the same wine.... every man's portion of meat shall be alike._ _when the rich man shall feast his slaves, let his friends serve with him._"{ } over the whole festival brooded the thought of a golden age in the distant past, when saturn ruled, a just and kindly monarch, when all men were good and all men were happy. a striking feature of the _saturnalia_ was the choosing by lot of a mock king, to preside over the revels. his word was law, and he was able to lay ridiculous commands upon the guests; "one," says lucian, "must shout out a libel on himself, another dance naked, or pick up the flute-girl and carry her thrice round the house."{ } this king may have been originally the representative of the god saturn himself. in the days of the classical writers he is a mere "lord of misrule," but dr. frazer has propounded the very interesting theory that this time of privilege and gaiety was once but the prelude to a grim sacrifice in which he had to die in the character of the god, giving his life for the world.{ } dr. frazer's theory, dependent for its evidence upon the narrative of the martyrdom of a fourth-century saint, dasius by name, has been keenly criticized by dr. warde fowler. he holds that there is nothing whatever to show that the "saturn" who in the fourth century, according to the story, was sacrificed by soldiers on the danube, had anything to do with the customs of ancient rome.{ } still, in whatever way the king of the _saturnalia_ may be explained, it is interesting to note his existence and compare him with the merry monarchs whom we shall meet at christmas and twelfth night. how far the saturnalian customs in general were of old latin origin it is difficult to say; the name saturnus (connected with the root of _serere_, to sow) and the date point to a real roman festival of the sowing of the crops, but this was heavily overlaid with greek ideas and practice.{ } it is especially important to bear this in mind in considering lucian's statements. the same is true of the festival of the january kalends, a few days after the _saturnalia_. on january , the roman new | | year's day, the new consuls were inducted into office, and for at least three days high festival was kept. the houses were decorated with lights and greenery--these, we shall find, may be partly responsible for the modern christmas-tree. as at the _saturnalia_ masters drank and gambled with slaves. _vota_, or solemn wishes of prosperity for the emperor during the new year, were customary, and the people and the senate were even expected to present gifts of money to him. the emperor caligula excited much disgust by publishing an edict requiring these gifts and by standing in the porch of his palace to receive them in person. such gifts, not only presented to the emperor, but frequently exchanged between private persons, were called _strenae_, a name still surviving in the french _étrennes_ (new year's presents).{ } an interesting and very full account of the kalends celebrations is given in two discourses of libanius, the famous greek sophist of the fourth century:-- "the festival of the kalends," he says, "is celebrated everywhere as far as the limits of the roman empire extend.... everywhere may be seen carousals and well-laden tables; luxurious abundance is found in the houses of the rich, but also in the houses of the poor better food than usual is put upon the table. the impulse to spend seizes everyone. he who the whole year through has taken pleasure in saving and piling up his pence, becomes suddenly extravagant. he who erstwhile was accustomed and preferred to live poorly, now at this feast enjoys himself as much as his means will allow.... people are not only generous towards themselves, but also towards their fellow-men. a stream of presents pours itself out on all sides.... the highroads and footpaths are covered with whole processions of laden men and beasts.... as the thousand flowers which burst forth everywhere are the adornment of spring, so are the thousand presents poured out on all sides, the decoration of the kalends feast. it may justly be said that it is the fairest time of the year.... the kalends festival banishes all that is connected with toil, and allows men to give themselves up to undisturbed enjoyment. from the minds of young people it removes two kinds of dread: the dread of the schoolmaster and the dread of the stern pedagogue. the slave also it allows, so far as possible, to breathe the air of freedom.... | | another great quality of the festival is that it teaches men not to hold too fast to their money, but to part with it and let it pass into other hands."{ } the resemblances here to modern christmas customs are very striking. in another discourse libanius speaks of processions on the eve of the festival. few people, he says, go to bed; most go about the streets with singing and leaping and all sorts of mockery. the severest moralist utters no blame on this occasion. when morning begins to dawn they decorate their houses with laurels and other greenery, and at daybreak may go to bed to sleep off their intoxication, for many deem it necessary at this feast to follow the flowing bowl. on the st of january money is distributed to the populace; on the nd no more presents are given: it is customary to stay at home playing dice, masters and slaves together. on the rd there is racing; on the th the festivities begin to decline, but they are not altogether over on the th.{ } another feature of the kalends, recorded not in the pages of classical writers but in ecclesiastical condemnations, was the custom of dressing up in the hides of animals, in women's clothes, and in masks of various kinds.{ } dr. tille{ } regards this as italian in origin, but it seems likely that it was a native custom in greece, gaul, germany, and other countries conquered by the romans. in greece the skin-clad mummers may have belonged to the winter festivals of dionysus supplanted by the _kalendae_.{ } the church's denunciations of pagan festal practices in the winter season are mainly directed against the kalends celebrations, and show into how many regions the keeping of the feast had spread. complaints of its continued observance abound in the writings of churchmen and the decrees of councils. in the second volume of his "mediaeval stage"{ } mr. chambers has made an interesting collection of forty excerpts from such denunciations, ranging in date from the fourth century to the eleventh, and coming from spain, italy, antioch, northern africa, constantinople, germany, england, and various districts of what is now france. | | as a specimen i may translate a passage describing at some length the practices condemned. it is from a sermon often ascribed to st. augustine of hippo, but probably composed in the sixth century, very likely by caesarius of arles in southern gaul:-- "on those days," says the preacher, speaking of the kalends of january, "the heathen, reversing the order of all things, dress themselves up in indecent deformities.... these miserable men, and what is worse, some who have been baptized, put on counterfeit forms and monstrous faces, at which one should rather be ashamed and sad. for what reasonable man would believe that any men in their senses would by making a stag (_cervulum_) turn themselves into the appearance of animals? some are clothed in the hides of cattle; others put on the heads of beasts, rejoicing and exulting that they have so transformed themselves into the shapes of animals that they no longer appear to be men.... how vile, further, it is that those who have been born men are clothed in women's dresses, and by the vilest change effeminate their manly strength by taking on the forms of girls, blushing not to clothe their warlike arms in women's garments; they have bearded faces, and yet they wish to appear women.... there are some who on the kalends of january practise auguries, and do not allow fire out of their houses or any other favour to anyone who asks. also they both receive and give diabolical presents (_strenas_). some country people, moreover, lay tables with plenty of things necessary for eating ... thinking that thus the kalends of january will be a warranty that all through the year their feasting will be in like measure abundant. now as for them who on those days observe any heathen customs, it is to be feared that the name of christian will avail them nought. and therefore our holy fathers of old, considering that the majority of men on those days became slaves to gluttony and riotous living and raved in drunkenness and impious dancing, determined for the whole world that throughout the churches a public fast should be proclaimed.... let us therefore fast, beloved brethren, on those days.... for he who on the kalends shows any civility to foolish men who are wantonly sporting, is undoubtedly a partaker of their sin."{ } there are several points to be noted here. first, the zeal of the church against the kalends celebrations as impious relics of | | heathenism: to root them out she even made the first three days of the year a solemn fast with litanies.{ } next, the particular offences should be observed. these are: first, the dressing up of men in the hides of animals and the clothes of women; next, the new year auguries and the superstition about fire, the giving of presents, and the laying of tables with good things; and last, drunkenness and riot in general. all these we shall find fully represented in modern christmas customs. that roman customs either spread to germany, or were paralleled there, is shown by a curious letter written in by st. boniface to pope zacharias. the saint complained that certain alamanni, bavarians, and franks refused to give up various heathen practices because they had seen such things done in the sacred city of rome, close to st. peter's, and, as they deemed, with the sanction of the clergy. on new year's eve, it was alleged, processions went through the streets of rome, with impious songs and heathen cries; tables of fortune were set up, and at that time no one would lend fire or iron or any other article to his neighbour. the pope replied that these things were odious to him, and should be so to all christians; and next year all such practices at the january kalends were formally forbidden by the council of rome.{ } * * * * * so much for roman customs; if indeed such practices as beast-masking are roman, and not derived from the religion of peoples conquered by the imperial legions. we must now turn to the winter festivals of the barbarians with whom the church began to come into contact soon after the establishment of christmas. much attention has been bestowed upon a supposed midwinter festival of the ancient germans. in the mid-nineteenth century it was customary to speak of christmas and the twelve nights as a continuation of the holy season kept by our forefathers at the winter solstice. the festive fires of christmas were regarded as symbols of the sun, who then began his upward journey in the heavens, while the name yule was traced back to the anglo-saxon word _hwéol_ (wheel), and connected with the circular | | course of the sun through the wheeling-points of the solstices and equinoxes. more recent research, however, has thrown the gravest doubts upon the existence of any teutonic festival at the winter solstice.[ ] it appears from philology and the study of surviving customs that the teutonic peoples had no knowledge of the solstices and equinoxes, and until the introduction of the roman calendar divided their year not into four parts but into two, three, and six, holding their new year's day with its attendant festivities not at the end of december or beginning of january, but towards the middle of november. at that time in central europe the first snowfall usually occurred and the pastures were closed to the flocks. a great slaughter of cattle would then take place, it being impossible to keep the beasts in stall throughout the winter, and this time of slaughter would naturally be a season of feasting and sacrifice and religious observances.[ ]{ } the celtic year, like the teutonic, appears to have begun in november with the feast of _samhain_--a name that may mean either "summer-end" or "assembly." it appears to have been in origin a "pastoral and agricultural festival, which in time came to be looked upon as affording assistance to the powers of growth in their conflict with the powers of blight," and to have had many features in common with the teutonic feast at the same season, for instance animal sacrifice, commemoration of the dead, and omens and charms for the new year.{ } there is some reason also to believe that the new year | | festival of the slavs took place in the autumn and that its usages have been transferred to the feast of the nativity.{ } a description based on contemporary documents cannot be given of these barbarian festivals; we have, rather, to reconstruct them from survivals in popular custom. at the close of this book, when such relics have been studied, we may have gained some idea of what went on upon these pre-christian holy-days. it is the teutonic customs that have been most fully recorded and discussed by scholars, and these will loom largest in our review; at the same time celtic and slav practices will be considered, and we shall find that they often closely resemble those current in teutonic lands. the customs of the old new year feasts have frequently wandered from their original november date, and to this fact we owe whatever elements of northern paganism are to be found in christmas. some practices seem to have been put forward to michaelmas; one side of the festivals, the cult of the dead, is represented especially by all saints' and all souls' days (november and ). st. martin's day (november ) probably marks as nearly as possible the old teutonic date, and is still in germany an important folk-feast attended by many customs derived from the beginning-of-winter festival. other practices are found strewn over various holy-days between martinmas and epiphany, and concentrated above all on the church's feast of the nativity and the roman new year's day, january , both of which had naturally great power of attraction.{ } the progress of agriculture, as dr. tille points out,{ } tended to destroy the mid-november celebration. in the carolingian period an improvement took place in the cultivation of meadows, and the increased quantity of hay made it possible to keep the animals fattening in stall, instead of slaughtering them as soon as the pastures were closed. thus the killing-time, with its festivities, became later and later. st. andrew's day (november ) and st. nicholas's (december ) may mark stages in its progress into the winter. in st. nicholas's day, indeed, we find a feast that closely resembles martinmas, and seems to be the same folk-festival transferred to a later date. again, as regards england we | | must remember the difference between its climate and that of central europe. mid-november would here not be a date beyond which pasturing was impossible, and thus the slaughter and feast held then by angles and saxons in their old german home would tend to be delayed.{ } christmas, as will be gathered from the foregoing, cannot on its pagan side be separated from the folk-feasts of november and december. the meaning of the term will therefore here be so extended as to cover the whole period between all saints' day and epiphany. that this is not too violent a proceeding will be seen later on. for the purposes of this book it seems best to treat the winter festivals calendarially, so to speak: to start at the beginning of november, and show them in procession, suggesting, as far as may be, the probable origins of the customs observed. thus we may avoid the dismemberment caused by taking out certain practices from various festivals and grouping them under their probable origins, a method which would, moreover, be perilous in view of the very conjectural nature of the theories offered. * * * * * before we pass to our procession of festivals, something must be said about the general nature and _rationale_ of the customs associated with them. for convenience these customs may be divided into three groups:-- i. _sacrificial or sacramental practices._ ii. _customs connected with the cult of the dead and the family hearth._ iii. _omens and charms for the new year._ though these three classes overlap and it is sometimes difficult to place a given practice exclusively in one of them, they will form a useful framework for a brief account of the primitive ritual which survives at the winter festivals. i. sacrificial and sacramental practices. to most people, probably, the word "sacrifice" suggests an offering, something presented to a divinity in order to obtain his favour. such seems to have been the meaning generally given to | | sacrificial rites in europe when christianity came into conflict with paganism. it is, however, held by many scholars that the original purpose of sacrifice was sacramental--the partaking by the worshipper of the divine life, conceived of as present in the victim, rather than the offering of a gift to a divinity.{ } the whole subject of sacred animals is obscure, and in regard, especially, to totemism--defined by dr. frazer{ } as "belief in the kinship of certain families with certain species of animals" and practices based upon that belief--the most divergent views are held by scholars. the religious significance which some have seen in totemistic customs is denied by others, while there is much disagreement as to the probability of their having been widespread in europe. still, whatever may be the truth about totemism, there is much that points to the sometime existence in europe of sacrifices that were not offerings, but solemn feasts of communion in the flesh and blood of a worshipful animal.{ } that the idea of sacrificial communion preceded the sacrifice-gift is suggested by the fact that in many customs which appear to be sacrificial survivals the body of the victim has some kind of sacramental efficacy; it conveys a blessing to that which is brought into contact with it. the actual eating and drinking of the flesh and blood is the most perfect mode of contact, but the same end seems to have been aimed at in such customs as the sprinkling of worshippers with blood, the carrying of the victim in procession from house to house, the burying of flesh in furrows to make the crops grow, and the wearing of hides, heads, or horns of sacrificed beasts.{ } we shall meet, during the christmas season, with various practices that seem to have originated either in a sacrificial feast or in some such sacramental rites as have just been described. so peculiarly prominent are animal masks, apparently derived from hide-, head-, and horn-wearing, that we may dwell upon them a little at this point. we have already seen how much trouble the kalends custom of beast-masking gave the ecclesiastics. its probable origin is thus suggested by robertson smith:-- "it is ... appropriate that the worshipper should dress himself in | | the skin of a victim, and so, as it were, envelop himself in its sanctity. to rude nations dress is not merely a physical comfort, but a fixed part of social religion, a thing by which a man constantly bears on his body the token of his religion, and which is itself a charm and a means of divine protection.... when the dress of sacrificial skin, which at once declared a man's religion and his sacred kindred, ceased to be used in ordinary life, it was still retained in holy and especially in piacular functions; ... examples are afforded by the dionysiac mysteries and other greek rites, and by almost every rude religion; while in later cults the old rite survives at least in the religious use of animal masks."[ ]{ } if we accept the animal-worship and sacrificial communion theory, many a christmas custom will carry us back in thought to a stage of religion far earlier than the greek and roman classics or the celtic and teutonic mythology of the conversion period: we shall be taken back to a time before men had come to have anthropomorphic gods, when they were not conscious of their superiority to the beasts of the field, but regarded these beings, mysterious in their actions, extraordinary in their powers, as incarnations of potent spirits. at this stage of thought, it would seem, there were as yet no definite divinities with personal names and characters, but the world was full of spirits immanent in animal or plant or chosen human being, and able to pass from one incarnation to another. or indeed it may be that animal sacrifice originated at a stage of religion before the idea of definite "spirits" had arisen, when man was conscious rather of a vague force like the melanesian _mana_, in himself and in almost everything, and "constantly trembling on the verge of personality."{ } "_mana_" better than "god" or "spirit" may express that with which the partaker in the communal feast originally sought contact. "when you sacrifice," to quote some words of miss jane harrison, "you build as it were a bridge between your _mana_, your will, your desire, which is weak and impotent, and | | that unseen outside _mana_ which you believe to be strong and efficacious. in the fruits of the earth which grow by some unseen power there is much _mana_; you want that _mana_. in the loud-roaring bull and the thunder is much _mana_; you want that _mana_. it would be well to get some, to eat a piece of that bull raw, but it is dangerous, not a thing to do unawares alone; so you consecrate the first-fruits, you sacrifice the bull and then in safety you--communicate."{ } "sanctity"--the quality of awfulness and mystery--rather than divinity or personality, may have been what primitive man saw in the beasts and birds which he venerated in "their silent, aloof, goings, in the perfection of their limited doings."{ } when we use the word "spirit" in connection with the pagan sacramental practices of christmastide, it is well to bear in mind the possibility that at the origin of these customs there may have been no notion of communion with strictly personal beings, but rather some such _mana_ idea as has been suggested above. it is probable that animal-cults had their origin at a stage of human life preceding agriculture, when man lived not upon cultivated plants or tamed beasts, but upon roots and fruits and the products of the chase. some scholars, indeed, hold that the domestication of animals for practical use was an outcome of the sacred, inviolable character of certain creatures: they may originally have been spared not for reasons of convenience but because it was deemed a crime to kill them--except upon certain solemn occasions--and may have become friendly towards man through living by his side.{ } on the other hand it is possible that totems were originally staple articles of food, that they were sacred because they were eaten with satisfaction, and that the very awe and respect attached to them because of their life-giving powers tended to remove them from common use and limit their consumption to rare ceremonial occasions. closely akin to the worship of animals is that of plants, and especially trees, and there is much evidence pointing to sacramental cults in connection with the plant-world.{ } some cakes and special vegetable dishes eaten on festal days may be survivals of sacramental feasts parallel to those upon the flesh and blood of | | an animal victim. benediction by external contact, again, is suggested by the widespread use in various ways of branches or sprigs or whole trees. the christmas-tree and evergreen decorations are the most obvious examples; we shall see others in the course of our survey, and in connection with plants as well as with animals we shall meet with processions intended to convey a blessing to every house by carrying about the sacred elements--to borrow a term from christian theology. even the familiar practice of going carol-singing may be a christianized form of some such perambulation. it is possible that men and women had originally separate cults. the cult of animals, according to a theory set forth by mr. chambers, would at first belong to the men, who as hunters worshipped the beasts they slew, apologizing to them, as some primitive people do to-day, for the slaughter they were obliged to commit. other animals, apparently, were held too sacred to be slain, except upon rare and solemn occasions, and hence, as we have seen, may have arisen domestication and the pastoral life which, with its religious rites, was the affair of the men. to women, on the other hand, belonged agriculture; the cult of mother earth and the vegetation-spirits seems to have been originally theirs. later the two cults would coalesce, but a hint of the time when certain rites were practised only by women may be found in that dressing up of men in female garments which appears not merely in the old kalends customs but in some modern survivals.[ ]{ } apart from any special theory of the origin of sacrifice, we may note the association at christmas of physical feasting with religious rejoicing. in this the modern european is the heir of an agelong tradition. "everywhere," says robertson smith, | | "we find that a sacrifice ordinarily involves a feast, and that a feast cannot be provided without a sacrifice. for a feast is not complete without flesh, and in early times the rule that all slaughter is sacrifice was not confined to the semites. the identity of religious occasions and festal seasons may indeed be taken as the determining characteristic of the type of ancient religion generally; when men meet their god they feast and are glad together, and whenever they feast and are glad they desire that the god should be of the party."{ } to the paganism that preceded christianity we must look for the origin of that christmas feasting which has not seldom been a matter of scandal for the severer type of churchman. [transcriber's note: the marker for note { } was not present in the page scan] a letter addressed in by pope gregory the great to abbot mellitus, giving him instructions to be handed on to augustine of canterbury, throws a vivid light on the process by which heathen sacrificial feasts were turned into christian festivals. "because," the pope says of the anglo-saxons, "they are wont to slay many oxen in sacrifices to demons, some solemnity should be put in the place of this, so that on the day of the dedication of the churches, or the nativities of the holy martyrs whose relics are placed there, they may make for themselves tabernacles of branches of trees around those churches which have been changed from heathen temples, and may celebrate the solemnity with religious feasting. nor let them now sacrifice animals to the devil, but to the praise of god kill animals for their own eating, and render thanks to the giver of all for their abundance; so that while some outward joys are retained for them, they may more readily respond to inward joys. for from obdurate minds it is undoubtedly impossible to cut off everything at once, because he who strives to ascend to the highest place rises by degrees or steps and not by leaps."{ } we see here very plainly the mind of the ecclesiastical compromiser. direct sacrifice to heathen gods the church of course could not dream of tolerating; it had been the very centre of her attack since the days of st. paul, and refusal to take part in it had cost the martyrs their lives. yet the festivity and merrymaking to which it gave occasion were to be left to the | | people, for a time at all events. the policy had its advantages, it made the church festivals popular; but it had also its dangers, it encouraged the intrusion of a pagan fleshly element into their austere and chastened joys. a certain orgiastic licence crept in, an unbridling of the physical appetites, which has ever been a source of sorrow and anger to the most earnest christians and even led the puritans of the seventeenth century to condemn all festivals as diabolical. before we leave the subject of sacrificial survivals, it must be added that certain christmas customs may come, little as those who practise them suspect it, from that darkest of religious rites, human sacrifice. reference has already been made to dr. frazer's view of the saturnalian king and his awful origin. we shall meet with various similar figures during the christmas season--the "king of the bean," for instance, and the "bishop of fools." if the theories about human sacrifice set forth in "the golden bough" be accepted, we may regard these personages as having once been mock kings chosen to suffer instead of the real kings, who had at first to perish by a violent death in order to preserve from the decay of age the divine life incarnate in them. such mock monarchs, according to dr. frazer, were exalted for a brief season to the glory and luxury of kingship ere their doom fell upon them;{ } in the christmas "kings" the splendour alone has survived, the dark side is forgotten. ii. the cult of the dead and the family hearth. round the winter festival cluster certain customs apparently connected with distinctively domestic religion, rather than with such public and communal cults as we have considered under the heading of sacrifice and sacrament. a festival of the family--that is, perhaps, what christmas most prominently is to-day: it is the great season for gatherings "round the old fireside"; it is a joyous time for the children of the house, and the memory of the departed is vivid then, if unexpressed. further, by the yule log customs and certain other ceremonies still practised in the remoter corners of europe, we are carried back to a stage of thought at which the dead were conceived as hovering about or | | visiting the abodes of the living. ancestral spirits, it seems, were once believed to be immanent in the fire that burned on the hearth, and had to be propitiated with libations, while elsewhere the souls of the dead were thought to return to their old homes at the new year, and meat and drink had to be set out for them. the church's establishment of all souls' day did much to keep practices of tendance of the departed to early november, but sometimes these have wandered to later dates and especially to christmas. in folk-practices directed towards the dead two tendencies are to be found: on the one hand affection or at all events consideration for the departed persists, and efforts are made to make them comfortable; on the other, they are regarded with dread, and the sight of them is avoided by the living. in the passage quoted from caesarius of arles there was mention of the laying of tables with abundance of food at the kalends. the same practice is condemned by st. jerome in the fifth century, and is by him specially connected with egypt.{ } he, like caesarius and others, regards it as a kind of charm to ensure abundance during the coming year, but it is very possible that its real purpose was different, that the food was an offering to supernatural beings, the guardians and representatives of the dead.{ } burchardus of worms in the early eleventh century says definitely that in his time tables were laid with food and drink and three knives for "those three sisters whom the ancients in their folly called _parcae_."{ } the _parcae_ were apparently identified with the three "weird" sisters known in england and in other teutonic regions, and seem to have some connection with the fairies. as we shall see later on, it is still in some places the custom to lay out tables for supernatural beings, whether, as at all souls' tide, explicitly for the dead, or for frau perchta, or for the virgin or some other christian figure. possibly the name _modranicht_ (night of mothers), which bede gives to christmas eve,{ } may be connected with this practice. not remote, probably, in origin from a belief in "ghosts" is the driving away of spirits that sometimes takes place about | | christmas-time. many peoples, as dr. frazer has shown, have an annual expulsion of goblins, ghosts, devils, witches, and evil influences, commonly at the end of the old or beginning of the new year. sometimes the beings so driven away are definitely the spirits of the departed. an appalling racket and a great flare of torches are common features of these expulsions, and we shall meet with similar customs during the christmas season. such purifications, according to dr. frazer, are often preceded or followed by periods of licence, for when the burden of evil is about to be, or has just been, removed, it is felt that a little temporary freedom from moral restraints may be allowed with impunity.{ } hence possibly, in part, the licence which has often attended the christmas season. iii. omens and charms for the new year. customs of augury are to be met with at various dates, which may mark the gradual shifting of the new year festival from early november to january , while actual charms to secure prosperity are commonest at christmas itself or at the modern new year. magical rather than religious in character, they are attempts to discover or influence the future by a sort of crude scientific method based on supposed analogies. beneath the charms lie the primitive ideas that like produces like and that things which have once been in contact continue to act upon one another after they are separated in space.{ } the same ideas obviously underlie many of the sacramental practices alluded to a few pages back, and these are often of the nature of charms. probably, too, among new year charms should be included such institutions as the bonfires on hallowe'en in celtic countries, on guy fawkes day in england, and at martinmas in germany, for it would seem that they are intended to secure by imitation a due supply of sunshine.{ } the principle that "well begun is well ended"--or, as the germans have it, "_anfang gut, alles gut_"--is fundamental in new year practices: hence the custom of giving presents as auguries of wealth during the coming year; hence perhaps partly the heavy eating and drinking--a kind of charm to ensure abundance. | | enough has already been said about the attitude of the early church towards traditional folk-customs. of the position taken up by the later mediaeval clergy we get an interesting glimpse in the "largum sero" of a certain monk alsso of brevnov, an account of christmas practices in bohemia written about the year . it supplies a link between modern customs and the kalends prohibitions of the dark ages. alsso tells of a number of laudable christmas eve practices, gives elaborate christian interpretations of them, and contrasts them with things done by bad catholics with ungodly intention. here are some of his complaints:-- presents, instead of being given, as they should be, in memory of god's great gift to man, are sent because he who does not give freely will be unlucky in the coming year. money, instead of being given to the poor, as is seemly, is laid on the table to augur wealth, and people open their purses that luck may enter. instead of using fruit as a symbol of christ the precious fruit, men cut it open to predict the future [probably from the pips]. it is a laudable custom to make great white loaves at christmas as symbols of the true bread, but evil men set out such loaves that the gods may eat of them. alsso's assumption is that the bad catholics are diabolically perverting venerable christmas customs, but there can be little doubt that precisely the opposite was really the case--the christian symbolism was merely a gloss upon pagan practices. in one instance alsso admits that the church had adopted and transformed a heathen usage: the old _calendisationes_ or processions with an idol bel had been changed into processions of clergy and choir-boys with the crucifix. round the villages on the eve and during the octave of christmas went these messengers of god, robed in white raiment as befitted the servants of the lord of purity; they would chant joyful anthems of the nativity, and receive in return some money from the people--they were, in fact, carol-singers. moreover with their incense they would drive out the devil from every corner.{ } alsso's attitude is one of compromise, or at least many of the old heathen customs are allowed by him, when reinterpreted in a | | christian sense. such seems to have been the general tendency of the later catholic church, and also of anglicanism in so far as it continued the catholic tradition. it will be seen, however, from what has already been said, that the english puritans were but following early christian precedents when they attacked the paganism that manifested itself at christmas. a strong puritan onslaught is to be found in the "anatomie of abuses" by the calvinist, philip stubbes, first published in . "especially," he says, "in christmas tyme there is nothing els vsed but cardes, dice, tables, maskyng, mumming, bowling, and suche like fooleries; and the reason is, that they think they haue a commission and prerogatiue that tyme to doe what they list, and to followe what vanitie they will. but (alas!) doe they thinke that they are preuiledged at that time to doe euill? the holier the time is (if one time were holier than an other, as it is not), the holier ought their exercises to bee. can any tyme dispence with them, or giue them libertie to sinne? no, no; the soule which sinneth shall dye, at what tyme soeuer it offendeth.... notwithstandyng, who knoweth not that more mischeef is that tyme committed than in all the yere besides?"{ } when the puritans had gained the upper hand they proceeded to the suppression not only of abuses, but of the festival itself. an excellent opportunity for turning the feast into a fast--as the early church had done, it will be remembered, with the kalends festival--came in . in that year christmas day happened to fall upon the last wednesday of the month, a day appointed by the lords and commons for a fast and humiliation. in its zeal against carnal pleasures parliament published the following "ordinance for the better observation of the feast of the nativity of christ":-- "whereas some doubts have been raised whether the next fast shall be celebrated, because it falleth on the day which, heretofore, was usually called the feast of the nativity of our saviour; the lords and commons do order and ordain that public notice be given, that the fast appointed to be kept on the last wednesday in every month, ought to be observed until it be otherwise ordered by both houses; | | and that this day particularly is to be kept with the more solemn humiliation because it may call to remembrance our sins and the sins of our forefathers, who have turned this feast, pretending the memory of christ, into an extreme forgetfulness of him, by giving liberty to carnal and sensual delights; being contrary to the life which christ himself led here upon earth, and to the spiritual life of christ in our souls; for the sanctifying and saving whereof christ was pleased both to take a human life, and to lay it down again."{ } but the english people's love of christmas could not be destroyed. "these poor simple creatures are made after superstitious festivals, after unholy holidays," said a speaker in the house of commons. "i have known some that have preferred christmas day before the lord's day," said calamy in a sermon to the lords in westminster abbey, "i have known those that would be sure to receive the sacrament on christmas day though they did not receive it all the year after. this was the superstition of this day, and the profaneness was as great. there were some that did not play cards all the year long, yet they must play at christmas." various protests were made against the suppression of the festival. though parliament sat every christmas day from to , the shops in london in were all shut, and in the people who opened their shops were so roughly used that next year they petitioned parliament to protect them in future. in the shops were indeed all closed, but evergreen decorations were put up in the city, and the lord mayor and city marshal had to ride about setting fire to them. there were even riots in country places, notably at canterbury. with the restoration christmas naturally came back to full recognition, though it may be doubted whether it has ever been quite the same thing since the puritan revolution.{ } protestantism, in proportion to its thoroughness and the strength of its puritan elements, has everywhere tended to destroy old pagan traditions and the festivals to which they cling. calvinism has naturally been more destructive than lutheranism, which in the scandinavian countries has left standing many of the externals of catholicism and also many christmas customs that are purely pagan, while in germany it has tolerated and even hallowed the | | ritual of the christmas-tree. but more powerful than religious influences, in rooting out the old customs, have been modern education and the growth of modern industry, breaking up the old traditional country life, and putting in its place the mobile, restless life of the great town. many of the customs we shall have to consider belong essentially to the country, and have no relation to the life of the modern city. when communal in their character, a man could not perform them in separation from his rustic neighbours. practices domestic in their purpose may indeed be transferred to the modern city, but it is the experience of folk-lorists that they seldom descend to the second generation. it is in regions like bavaria, tyrol, styria, or the slav parts of the austrian empire, or roumania and servia, that the richest store of festival customs is to be found nowadays. here the old agricultural life has been less interfered with, and at the same time the church, whether roman or greek, has succeeded in keeping modern ideas away from the people and in maintaining a popular piety that is largely polytheistic in its worship of the saints, and embodies a great amount of traditional paganism. in our half-suburbanized england but little now remains of these vestiges of primitive religion and magic whose interest and importance were only realized by students in the later nineteenth century, when the wave of "progress" was fast sweeping them away. old traditions have a way of turning up unexpectedly in remote corners, and it is hard to say for certain that any custom is altogether extinct; every year, however, does its work of destruction, and it may well be that some of the practices here described in the present tense have passed into the limbo of discarded things. | | | | | | chapter vii all hallow tide to martinmas all saints' and all souls' days, their relation to a new year festival--all souls' eve and tendance of the departed--soul cakes in england and on the continent--pagan parallels of all souls'--hallowe'en charms and omens--hallowe'en fires--guy fawkes day--"old hob," the _schimmelreiter_, and other animal masks--martinmas and its slaughter--martinmas drinking--st. martin's fires in germany--winter visitors in the low countries and germany--st. martin as gift-bringer--st. martin's rod. all saints' and all souls' days. in the reign of charles i. the young gentlemen of the middle temple were accustomed to reckon all hallow tide (november ) the beginning of christmas.{ } we may here do likewise and start our survey of winter festivals with november, in the earlier half of which, apparently, fell the celtic and teutonic new year's days. it is impossible to fix precise dates, but there is reason for thinking that the celtic year began about november ,[ ]{ } and the teutonic about november .{ } on november falls one of the greater festivals of the western church, all saints'--or, to give it its old english name, all hallows'--and on the morrow is the solemn commemoration of the departed--all souls'. in these two anniversaries the church has | | preserved at or near the original date one part of the old beginning-of-winter festival--the part concerned with the cult of the dead. some of the practices belonging to this side of the feast have been transferred to the season of christmas and the twelve days, but these have often lost their original meaning, and it is to all souls' day that we must look for the most conscious survivals of that care for the departed which is so marked a feature of primitive religion. early november, when the leaves are falling, and all around speaks of mortality, is a fitting time for the commemoration of the dead. the first clear testimony to all souls' day is found at the end of the tenth century, and in france. all saints' day, however, was certainly observed in england, france, and germany in the eighth century,{ } and probably represents an attempt on the part of the church to turn the minds of the faithful away from the pagan belief in and tendance of "ghosts" to the contemplation of the saints in the glory of paradise. it would seem that this attempt failed, that the people needed a way of actually doing something for their own dead, and that all souls' day with its solemn mass and prayers for the departed was intended to supply this need and replace the traditional practices.{ } here again the attempt was only partly successful, for side by side with the church's rites there survived a number of usages related not to any christian doctrine of the after-life, but to the pagan idea, widespread among many peoples, that on one day or night of the year the souls of the dead return to their old homes and must be entertained. all souls' day then appeals to instincts older than christianity. how strong is the hold of ancient custom even upon the sceptical and irreligious is shown very strikingly in roman catholic countries: even those who never go to church visit the graves of their relations on all souls' eve to deck them with flowers. the special liturgical features of the church's celebration are the vespers, matins, and lauds of the dead on the evening of november , and the solemn requiem mass on november , with the majestic "dies irae" and the oft-recurrent versicle, "requiem aeternam dona eis, domine, et lux perpetua luceat | | eis," that most beautiful of prayers. the priest and altar are vested in black, and a catafalque with burning tapers round it stands in the body of the church. for the popular customs on the eve we may quote dr. tylor's general description:-- "in italy the day is given to feasting and drinking in honour of the dead, while skulls and skeletons in sugar and paste form appropriate children's toys. in tyrol, the poor souls released from purgatory fire for the night may come and smear their burns with the melted fat of the 'soul light' on the hearth, or cakes are left for them on the table, and the room is kept warm for their comfort. even in paris the souls of the departed come to partake of the food of the living. in brittany the crowd pours into the churchyard at evening, to kneel barefoot at the grave of dead kinsfolk, to fill the hollow of the tombstone with holy water, or to pour libations of milk upon it. all night the church bells clang, and sometimes a solemn procession of the clergy goes round to bless the graves. in no household that night is the cloth removed, for the supper must be left for the souls to come and take their part, nor must the fire be put out, where they will come to warm themselves. and at last, as the inmates retire to rest, there is heard at the door a doleful chant--it is the souls, who, borrowing the voices of the parish poor, have come to ask the prayers of the living."{ } to this may be added some further accounts of all souls' eve as the one night in the year when the spirits of the departed are thought to revisit their old homes. in the vosges mountains while the bells are ringing in all souls' eve it is a custom to uncover the beds and open the windows in order that the poor souls may enter and rest. prayer is made for the dead until late in the night, and when the last "de profundis" has been said "the head of the family gently covers up the beds, sprinkles them with holy water, and shuts the windows."{ } the esthonians on all souls' day provide a meal for the dead and invite them by name. the souls arrive at the first cock-crow and depart at the second, being lighted out of the house by the head of the family, who waves a white cloth after them and bids them come again next year.{ } in brittany, as we have seen, the dead are thought to return at | | this season. it is believed that on the night between all saints' and all souls' the church is lighted up and the departed attend a nocturnal mass celebrated by a phantom priest. all through the week, in one district, people are afraid to go out after nightfall lest they should see some dead person.{ } in tyrol it is believed that the "poor souls" are present in the howling winds that often blow at this time.{ } in the abruzzi on all souls' eve "before people go to sleep they place on the table a lighted lamp or candle and a frugal meal of bread and water. the dead issue from their graves and stalk in procession through every street of the village.... first pass the souls of the good, and then the souls of the murdered and the damned."{ } in sicily a strange belief is connected with all souls' day (_jornu di li morti_): the family dead are supposed, like santa klaus in the north, to bring presents to children; the dead relations have become the good fairies of the little ones. on the night between november and little sicilians believe that the departed leave their dread abode and come to town to steal from rich shopkeepers sweets and toys and new clothes. these they give to their child relations who have been "good" and have prayed on their behalf. often they are clothed in white and wear silken shoes, to elude the vigilance of the shopkeepers. they do not always enter the houses; sometimes the presents are left in the children's shoes put outside doors and windows. in the morning the pretty gifts are attributed by the children to the _morti_ in whose coming their parents have taught them to believe.{ } a very widespread custom at this season is to burn candles, perhaps in order to lighten the darkness for the poor souls. in catholic ireland candles shine in the windows on the vigil of all souls',{ } in belgium a holy candle is burnt all night, or people walk in procession with lighted tapers, while in many roman catholic countries, and even in the protestant villages of baden, the graves are decked with lights as well as flowers.{ } another practice on all saints' and all souls' days, curiously | | common formerly in protestant england, is that of making and giving "soul-cakes." these and the quest of them by children were customary in various english counties and in scotland.{ } the youngsters would beg not only for the cakes but also sometimes for such things as "apples and strong beer," presumably to make a "wassail-bowl" of "lambswool," hot spiced ale with roast apples in it.{ } here is a curious rhyme which they sang in shropshire as they went round to their neighbours, collecting contributions:-- "soul! soul! for a soul-cake! i pray, good missis, a soul-cake! an apple or pear, a plum or a cherry, any good thing to make us merry. one for peter, two for paul, three for him who made us all. up with the kettle, and down with the pan, give us good alms, and we'll be gone."{ } shropshire is a county peculiarly rich in "souling" traditions, and one old lady had cakes made to give away to the souling-children up to the time of her death in . at that period the custom of "souling" had greatly declined in the county, and where it still existed the rewards were usually apples or money. grown men, as well as children, sometimes went round, and the ditties sung often contained verses of good-wishes for the household practically identical with those sung by wassailers at christmas.{ } the name "soul-cake" of course suggests that the cakes were in some way associated with the departed, whether given as a reward for prayers for souls in purgatory, or as a charity for the benefit of the "poor souls," or baked that the dead might feast upon them.[ ] it seems most probable that they were relics of a feast once laid out for the souls. on the other hand it is just possible that they were originally a sacrament of the corn-spirit. | | a north welsh tradition recorded by pennant may conceivably have preserved a vague memory of some agricultural connection: he tells us that on receiving soul-cakes the poor people used to pray to god to bless the next crop of wheat.{ } not in great britain alone are soul-cakes found; they are met with in belgium, southern germany, and austria. in western flanders children set up on all souls' eve little street altars, putting a crucifix or madonna with candles on a chair or stool, and begging passers-by for money "for cakes for the souls in purgatory." on all souls' morning it is customary, all over the flemish part of belgium, to bake little cakes of finest white flour, called "soul-bread." they are eaten hot, and a prayer is said at the same time for the souls in purgatory. it is believed that a soul is delivered for every cake eaten. at antwerp the cakes are coloured yellow with saffron to suggest the purgatorial flames. in southern germany and austria little white loaves of a special kind are baked; they are generally oval in form, and are usually called by some name into which the word "soul" enters. in tyrol they are given to children by their godparents; those for the boys have the shape of horses or hares, those for the girls, of hens. in tyrol the cakes left over at supper remain on the table and are said to "belong to the poor souls."{ } in friuli in the north-east of italy there is a custom closely corresponding to our "soul-cakes." on all souls' day every family gives away a quantity of bread. this is not regarded as a charity; all the people of the village come to receive it and before eating it pray for the departed of the donor's family. the most prosperous people are not ashamed to knock at the door and ask for this _pane dei morti_.{ } in tyrol all souls' is a day of licensed begging, which has become a serious abuse. a noisy rabble of ragged and disorderly folk, with bags and baskets to receive gifts, wanders from village to village, claiming as a right the presents of provisions that were originally a freewill offering for the benefit of the departed, and angrily abusing those who refuse to give.{ } the new year is the time for a festival of the dead in many parts of the world.{ } i may quote dr. frazer's account of what | | goes on in tonquin; it shows a remarkable likeness to some european customs[ ]:-- "in tonquin, as in sumba, the dead revisit their kinsfolk and their old homes at the new year. from the hour of midnight, when the new year begins, no one dares to shut the door of his house for fear of excluding the ghosts, who begin to arrive at that time. preparations have been made to welcome and refresh them after their long journey. beds and mats are ready for their weary bodies to repose upon, water to wash their dusty feet, slippers to comfort them, and canes to support their feeble steps."{ } in lithuania, the last country in europe to be converted to christianity, heathen traditions lingered long, and sixteenth- and seventeenth-century travellers give accounts of a pagan new year's feast which has great interest. in october, according to one account, on november , according to another, the whole family met together, strewed the tables with straw and put sacks on the straw. bread and two jugs of beer were then placed on the table, and one of every kind of domestic animal was roasted before the fire after a prayer to the god zimiennik (possibly an ancestral spirit), asking for protection through the year and offering the animals. portions were thrown to the corners of the room with the words "accept our burnt sacrifice, o zimiennik, and kindly partake thereof." then followed a great feast. further, the spirits of the dead were invited to leave their graves and visit the bath-house, where platters of food were spread out and left for three days. at the end of this time the remains of the repast were set out over the graves and libations poured.{ } * * * * * the beginning of november is not solely a time of memory of the dead; customs of other sorts linger, or until lately used to linger, about it, especially in scotland, northern england, ireland, cornwall, wales, and the west midlands. one may conjecture that these are survivals from the celtic new year's day, for most of them are of the nature of omens or charms. apples and nuts are prominent on hallowe'en, the eve of all | | saints;[ ] they may be regarded either as a kind of sacrament of the vegetation-spirit, or as simply intended by homoeopathic magic to bring fulness and fruitfulness to their recipients. a custom once common in the north of england{ } and in wales{ } was to catch at apples with the mouth, the fruit being suspended on a string, or on one end of a large transverse beam with a lighted candle at the other end. in the north apples and nuts were the feature of the evening feast, hence the name "nutcrack night."{ } again, at st. ives in cornwall every child is given a big apple on allhallows' eve--"allan day" as it is called.{ } nuts and apples were also used as means of forecasting the future. in scotland for instance nuts were put into the fire and named after particular lads and lasses. "as they burn quietly together or start from beside one another, the course and issue of the courtship will be."{ } on hallowe'en in nottinghamshire if a girl had two lovers and wanted to know which would be the more constant, she took two apple-pips, stuck one on each cheek (naming them after her lovers) and waited for one to fall off. the poet gay alludes to this custom:-- "see from the core two kernels now i take, this on my cheek for lubberkin is worn, and booby clod on t'other side is borne; but booby clod soon falls upon the ground, a certain token that his love's unsound; while lubberkin sticks firmly to the last; oh! were his lips to mine but joined so fast."{ } in nottinghamshire apples are roasted and the parings thrown over the left shoulder. "notice is taken of the shapes which the parings assume when they fall to the ground. whatever letter a paring resembles will be the initial letter of the christian name of the man or woman whom you will marry."{ } | | hallowe'en is indeed in the british isles the favourite time for forecasting the future, and various methods are employed for this purpose. a girl may cross her shoes upon her bedroom floor in the shape of a t and say these lines:-- "i cross my shoes in the shape of a t, hoping this night my true love to see, not in his best or worst array, but in the clothes of every day." then let her get into bed backwards without speaking any more that night, and she will see her future husband in her dreams.{ } "on all hallowe'en or new year's eve," says mr. w. henderson, "a border maiden may wash her sark, and hang it over a chair to dry, taking care to tell no one what she is about. if she lie awake long enough, she will see the form of her future spouse enter the room and turn the sark. we are told of one young girl who, after fulfilling this rite, looked out of bed and saw a coffin behind the sark; it remained visible for some time and then disappeared. the girl rose up in agony and told her family what had occurred, and the next morning she heard of her lover's death."{ } in scotland{ } and ireland{ } other methods of foreseeing the future are practised on hallowe'en; we need not consider them here, for we shall have quite enough of such auguries later on. (some scottish customs are introduced by burns into his poem "hallowe'en.") i may, however, allude to the custom formerly prevalent in wales for women to congregate in the church on this "night of the winter kalends," in order to discover who of the parishioners would die during the year.{ } east of the welsh border, at dorstone in herefordshire, there was a belief that on all hallows' eve at midnight those who were bold enough to look through the windows would see the church lighted with an unearthly glow, and satan in monk's habit fulminating anathemas from the pulpit and calling out the names of those who were to render up their souls.{ } | | again, there are numerous hallowe'en fire customs, probably sun-charms for the new year, a kind of homoeopathic magic intended to assist the sun in his struggle with the powers of darkness. to this day great bonfires are kindled in the highlands, and formerly brands were carried about and the new fire was lit in each house.{ } it would seem that the yule log customs (see chapter x.) are connected with this new lighting of the house-fire, transferred to christmas. in ireland fire was lighted at this time at a place called tlachtga, from which all the hearths in ireland are said to have been annually supplied.{ } in wales the habit of lighting bonfires on the hills is perhaps not yet extinct.{ } within living memory when the flames were out somebody would raise the cry, "may the tailless black sow seize the hindmost," and everyone present would run for his life.{ } this may point to a former human sacrifice, possibly of a victim laden with the accumulated evils of the past year.{ } in north wales, according to another account, each family used to make a great bonfire in a conspicuous place near the house. every person threw into the ashes a white stone, marked; the stones were searched for in the morning, and if any one were missing the person who had thrown it in would die, it was believed, during the year.{ } the same belief and practice were found at callander in perthshire.{ } though, probably, the hallowe'en fire rites had originally some connection with the sun, the conscious intention of those who practised them in modern times was often to ward off witchcraft. with this object in one place the master of the family used to carry a bunch of burning straw about the corn, in scotland the red end of a fiery stick was waved in the air, in lancashire a lighted candle was borne about the fells, and in the isle of man fires were kindled.{ } guy fawkes day. probably the burning of guy fawkes on november is a survival of a new year bonfire. there is every reason to think that the commemoration of the deliverance from "gunpowder | | treason and plot" is but a modern meaning attached to an ancient traditional practice, for the burning of the effigy has many parallels in folk-custom. dr. frazer{ } regards such effigies as representatives of the spirit of vegetation--by burning them in a fire that represented the sun men thought they secured sunshine for trees and crops. later, when the ideas on which the custom was based had faded away, people came to identify these images with persons whom they regarded with aversion, such as judas iscariot, luther (in catholic tyrol), and, apparently, guy fawkes in england. at ludlow in shropshire, it is interesting to note, if any well-known local man had aroused the enmity of the populace his effigy was substituted for, or added to, that of guy fawkes. bonfire day at ludlow is marked by a torchlight procession and a huge conflagration.{ } at hampstead the guy fawkes fire and procession are still in great force. the thing has become a regular carnival, and on a foggy november night the procession along the steep curving heath street, with the glare of the torches lighting up the faces of dense crowds, is a strangely picturesque spectacle.[ ] animal masks. on all souls' day in cheshire there began to be carried about a curious construction called "old hob," a horse's head enveloped in a sheet; it was taken from door to door, and accompanied by the singing of begging rhymes.{ } old hob, who continued to appear until christmas, is an english parallel to the german _schimmel_ or white horse. we have here to do with one of those strange animal forms which are apparently relics of sacrificial customs. they come on various days in the winter festival season, and also at other times, and may as well be considered at this point. in some cases they are definitely imitations of animals, and may have replaced real sacrificial beasts taken about in procession, in others they are simply men wearing the head, horn, hide, or tail of a beast, like the worshippers at many | | a heathen sacrifice to-day. (of the _rationale_ of masking something has already been said in chapter vi.) the mingling of roman and non-roman customs makes it very hard to separate the different elements in the winter festivals. in regard particularly to animal masks it is difficult to pronounce in favour of one racial origin rather than another; we may, however, infer with some probability that when a custom is attached not to christmas or the january kalends but to one of the november or early december feasts, it is not of roman origin. for, as the centuries have passed, christmas and the kalends--the roman festivals ecclesiastical and secular--have increasingly tended to supplant the old northern festal times, and a transference of, for instance, a teutonic custom from martinmas to christmas or january , is far more conceivable than the attraction of a roman practice to one of the earlier and waning festivals. let us take first the horse-forms, seemingly connected with that sacrificial use of the horse among the teutons to which tacitus and other writers testify.{ } "old hob" is doubtless one form of the hobby horse, so familiar in old english festival customs. his german parallel, the _schimmel_, is mostly formed thus in the north: a sieve with a long pole to whose end a horse's head is fastened, is tied beneath the chest of a young man, who goes on all fours, and some white cloths are thrown over the whole. in silesia the _schimmel_ is formed by three or four youths. the rider is generally veiled, and often wears on his head a pot with glowing coals shining forth through openings that represent eyes and a mouth.{ } in pomerania the thing is called simply _schimmel_,{ } in other parts emphasis is laid upon the rider, and the name _schimmelreiter_ is given. some mythologists have seen in this rider on a white horse an impersonation of woden on his great charger; but it is more likely that the practice simply originated in the taking round of a real sacrificial horse.{ } the _schimmelreiter_ is often accompanied by a "bear," a youth dressed in straw who plays the part of a bear tied to a pole.{ } he may be connected with some such veneration of the animal as is suggested by the custom still surviving at berne, of keeping bears at the public expense. to return to great britain, here is an account of a so-called | | "hodening" ceremony once performed at christmas-time at ramsgate: "a party of young people procure the head of a dead horse, which is affixed to a pole about four feet in length, a string is tied to the lower jaw, a horse-cloth is then attached to the whole, under which one of the party gets, and by frequently pulling the string keeps up a loud snapping noise and is accompanied by the rest of the party grotesquely habited and ringing hand-bells. they thus proceed from house to house, sounding their bells and singing carols and songs."{ } again, in wales a creature called "the mari llwyd" was known at christmas. a horse's skull is "dressed up with ribbons, and supported on a pole by a man who is concealed under a large white cloth. there is a contrivance for opening and shutting the jaws, and the figure pursues and bites everybody it can lay hold of, and does not release them except on payment of a fine."{ } the movable jaws here give the thing a likeness to certain continental figures representing other kinds of animals and probably witnessing to their former sacrificial use. on the island of usedom appears the _klapperbock_, a youth who carries a pole with the hide of a buck thrown over it and a wooden head at the end. the lower jaw moves up and down and clatters, and he charges at children who do not know their prayers by heart.{ } in upper styria we meet the _habergaiss_. four men hold on to one another and are covered with white blankets. the foremost one holds up a wooden goat's head with a movable lower jaw that rattles, and he butts children.{ } at ilsenburg in the harz is found the _habersack_, formed by a person taking a pole ending in a fork, and putting a broom between the prongs so that the appearance of a head with horns is obtained. the carrier is concealed by a sheet.{ } in connection with horns we must not forget the "horn-dance" at abbots bromley in staffordshire, held now in september, but formerly at christmas. six of the performers wear sets of horns kept from year to year in the church.{ } plot, in his "natural history of staffordshire" ( , p. ) calls it a "_hobby-horse dance_ from a person who carried the image of a horse between his legs, made of thin boards."{ } | | in denmark, sweden, and norway creatures resembling both the _schimmelreiter_ and the _klapperbock_ are or were to be met with at christmas. the name _julebuk_ (yule buck) is used for various objects: sometimes for a person dressed up in hide and horns, or with a buck's head, who "goes for" little boys and girls; sometimes for a straw puppet set up or tossed about from hand to hand; sometimes for a cake in the form of a buck. people seem to have had a bad conscience about these things, for there are stories connecting them with the devil. a girl, for instance, who danced at midnight with a straw _julebuk_, found that her partner was no puppet but the evil one himself. again, a fellow who had dressed himself in black and put horns on his head, claws on his hands, and fiery tow in his mouth, was carried off by the prince of darkness whose form he had mimicked.{ } the association of animal maskings with the infernal powers is doubtless the work of the church. to the zealous missionary the old heathen ritual was no mere foolish superstition but a service of intensely real and awful beings, the very devils of hell, and one may even conjecture that the traditional christian devil-type, half animal half human, was indirectly derived from skin-clad worshippers at pagan festivals. martinmas. between all souls' day and martinmas (november ) there are no folk-festivals of great importance, though on st. hubert's day, november , in flemish belgium special little cakes are made, adorned with the horn of the saint, the patron of hunting, and are eaten not only by human beings but by dogs, cats, and other domestic animals.{ } the english guy fawkes day has already been considered, while november , lord mayor's day, the beginning of the municipal year, may remind us of the old teutonic new year. round martinmas popular customs cluster thickly, as might be expected, since it marks as nearly as possible the date of the old beginning-of-winter festival, the feast perhaps at which germanicus surprised the marsi in a.d. .{ } the most obvious feature of martinmas is its physical feasting. | | economic causes, as we saw in chapter vi., must have made the middle of november a great killing season among the old germans, for the snow which then began rendered it impossible longer to pasture the beasts, and there was not fodder enough to keep the whole herd through the winter. thus it was a time of feasting on flesh, and of animal sacrifices, as is suggested by the anglo-saxon name given to november by bede, _blot-monath_, sacrifice-month.{ } christmas does not seem to have quickly superseded the middle of november as a popular feast in teutonic countries; rather one finds an outcome of the conciliatory policy pursued by gregory the great (see chapter vi.) in the development of martinmas. founded in the fifth century, it was made a great church festival by pope martin i. ( - ),{ } and it may well have been intended to absorb and christianize the new year festivities of the teutonic peoples. the veneration of st. martin spread rapidly in the churches of northern europe, and he came to be regarded as one of the very chief of the saints.{ } his day is no longer a church feast of high rank, but its importance as a folk festival is great. the tradition of slaughter is preserved in the british custom of killing cattle on st. martin's day--"martlemas beef"{ }--and in the german eating of st. martin's geese and swine.{ } the st. martin's goose, indeed, is in germany as much a feature of the festival as the english michaelmas goose is of the september feast of the angels. in denmark too a goose is eaten at martinmas, and from its breast-bone the character of the coming winter can be foreseen. the white in it is a sign of snow, the brown of very great cold. similar ideas can be traced in germany, though there is not always agreement as to what the white and the brown betoken.{ } at st. peter's, athlone, ireland, a very obviously sacrificial custom lasted on into the nineteenth century. every household would kill an animal of some kind, and sprinkle the threshold with its blood. a cow or sheep, a goose or turkey, or merely a cock or hen, was used according to the means of the family.{ } it seems that the animal was actually offered to st. martin, apparently as | | the successor of some god, and bad luck came if the custom were not observed. probably these rites were transferred to martinmas from the old celtic festival of _samhain_. again, in a strange irish legend the saint himself is said to have been cut up and eaten in the form of an ox.{ } in the wine-producing regions of germany martinmas was the day for the first drinking of the new wine, and the feasting in general on his day gave the saint the reputation of a guzzler and a glutton; it even became customary to speak of a person who had squandered his substance in riotous living as a _martinsmann_.{ } as we have seen survivals of sacrifice in the martinmas slaughter, so we may regard the _martinsminne_ or toast as originating in a sacrifice of liquor.{ } in the böhmerwald it is believed that wine taken at martinmas brings strength and beauty, and the lads and girls gather in the inns to drink, while a common german proverb runs:-- "heb an martini, trink wein per circulum anni."[ ]{ } here, by the way, is a faint suggestion that martinmas is regarded as the beginning of the year; as such it certainly appears in a number of legal customs, english, french, and german, which existed in the middle ages and in some cases in quite recent times. it was often at martinmas that leases ended, rents had to be paid, and farm-servants changed their places.{ } there is a survival, perhaps, of a cereal sacrifice or sacrament in the so-called "martin's horns," horseshoe pastries given at martinmas in many parts of germany.{ } another kind of sacrifice is suggested by a dutch custom of throwing baskets of fruit into martinmas bonfires, and by a german custom of casting in empty fruit-baskets.{ } in venetia the peasants keep over from the vintage a few grapes to form part of their martinmas supper, and as far south as sicily it is considered essential to taste the new wine at this festival.{ } bonfires appear at martinmas in germany, as at all hallows tide in the british isles. on st. martin's eve in the rhine | | valley between cologne and coblentz, numbers of little fires burn on the heights and by the river-bank,{ } the young people leap through the flames and dance about them, and the ashes are strewn on the fields to make them fertile.{ } survivals of fire-customs are found also in other regions. in belgium, holland, and north-west germany processions of children with paper or turnip lanterns take place on st. martin's eve. in the eichsfeld district the little river geislede glows with the light of candles placed in floating nutshells. even the practice of leaping through the fire survives in a modified form, for in northern germany it is not uncommon for people on st. martin's day or eve to jump over lighted candles set on the parlour floor.{ } in the fifteenth century the martinmas fires were so many that the festival actually got the name of _funkentag_ (spark day).{ } * * * * * on st. martin's eve in germany and the low countries we begin to meet those winter visitors, bright saints and angels on the one hand, mock-terrible bogeys and monsters on the other, who add so much to the romance and mystery of the children's christmas. such visitors are to be found in many countries, but it is in the lands of german speech that they take on the most vivid and picturesque forms. st. martin, st. nicholas, christkind, knecht ruprecht, and the rest are very real and personal beings to the children, and are awaited with pleasant expectation or mild dread. often they are beheld not merely with the imagination but with the bodily eye, when father or friend is wondrously transformed into a supernatural figure. what are the origins of these holy or monstrous beings? it is hard to say with certainty, for many elements, pagan and christian, seem here to be closely blended. it is pretty clear, however, that the grotesque half-animal shapes are direct relics of heathendom, and it is highly probable that the forms of saints or angels--even, perhaps, of the christ child himself--represent attempts of the church to transform and sanctify alien things which she could not suppress. what some of these may have been we shall tentatively guess as we go along. though no grown-up person would take the mimic martin or nicholas | | seriously nowadays, there seem to be at the root of them things once regarded as of vital moment. just as fairy-tales, originally serious attempts to explain natural facts, have now become reading for children, so ritual practices which our ancestors deemed of vast importance for human welfare have become mere games to amuse the young. on st. martin's eve, to come back from speculation to the facts of popular custom, the saint appears in the nurseries of antwerp and other flemish towns. he is a man dressed up as a bishop, with a pastoral staff in his hand. his business is to ask if the children have been "good," and if the result of his inquiries is satisfactory he throws down apples, nuts, and cakes. if not, it is rods that he leaves behind. at ypres he does not visibly appear, but children hang up stockings filled with hay, and next morning find presents in them, left by the saint in gratitude for the fodder provided for his horse. he is there imagined as a rider on a white horse, and the same conception prevails in austrian silesia, where he brings the "martin's horns" already mentioned.{ } in silesia when it snows at martinmas people say that the saint is coming on his white horse, and there, it may be noted, the _schimmelreiter_ appears at the same season.{ } in certain respects, it has been suggested, st. martin may have taken the place of woden.{ } it is perhaps not without significance that, like the god, he is a military hero, and conceived as a rider on horseback. at düsseldorf he used to be represented in his festival procession by a man riding on another fellow's back.{ } at mechlin and other places children go round from house to house, singing and collecting gifts. often four boys with paper caps on their heads, dressed as turks, carry a sort of litter whereon st. martin sits. he has a long white beard of flax and a paper mitre and stole, and holds a large wooden spoon to receive apples and other eatables that are given to the children, as well as a leather purse for offerings of money.{ } in the ansbach region a different type of being used to appear--pelzmärten (skin martin) by name; he ran about and frightened the children, before he threw them their apples and nuts. in several places in swabia, too, pelzmärte was known; | | he had a black face, a cow-bell hung on his person, and he distributed blows as well as nuts and apples.{ } in him there is obviously more of the pagan mummer than the christian bishop. in belgium st. martin is chiefly known as the bringer of apples and nuts for children; in bavaria and austria he has a different aspect: a _gerte_ or rod, supposed to promote fruitfulness among cattle and prosperity in general, is connected with his day. the rods are taken round by the neatherds to the farmers, and one is given to each--two to rich proprietors; they are to be used, when spring comes, to drive out the cattle for the first time. in bavaria they are formed by a birch-bough with all the leaves and twigs stripped off--except at the top, to which oak-leaves and juniper-twigs are fastened. at etzendorf a curious old rhyme shows that the herdsman with the rod is regarded as the representative of st. martin.{ } can we connect this custom with the saint who brings presents to youngsters?[ ] there seems to be a point of contact when we note that at antwerp st. martin throws down rods for naughty children as well as nuts and apples for good ones, and that pelzmärte in swabia has blows to bestow as well as gifts. st. martin's main functions--and, as we shall see, st. nicholas has the same--are to beat the bad children and reward the good with apples, nuts, and cakes. can it be that the ethical distinction is of comparatively recent origin, an invention perhaps for children when the customs came to be performed solely for their benefit, and that the beating and the gifts were originally shared by all alike and were of a sacramental character? we shall meet with more whipping customs later on, they are common enough in folk-ritual, and are not punishments, but kindly services; their purpose is to drive away evil influences, and to bring to the flogged one the life-giving virtues of the tree from which the twigs or boughs are taken.{ } both the flogging and the eating of fruit may, indeed, be means of contact with the vegetation-spirit, the one in | | an external, the other in a more internal way. or possibly the rod and the fruit may once have been conjoined, the beating being performed with fruit-laden boughs in order to produce prosperity. it is noteworthy that at etzendorf so many head of cattle and loads of hay are augured for the farmer as there are juniper-_berries_ and twigs on st. martin's _gerte_.{ } attempts to account for the figures of ss. martin and nicholas in northern folk-customs have been made along various lines. some scholars regard them as christianizations of the pagan god woden; but they might also be taken as akin to the "first-foots" whom we shall meet on january --visitors who bring good luck--or as maskers connected with animal sacrifices (pelzmärte suggests this), or again as related to the boy bishop, the lord of misrule and the twelfth night king. may i suggest that some at least of their aspects could be explained on the supposition that they represent administrants of primitive vegetation sacraments, and that these administrants, once ordinary human beings, have taken on the name and attributes of the saint who under the christian dispensation presides over the festival? in any case it is a strange irony of history that around the festival of martin of tours, the zealous soldier of christ and deadly foe of heathenism, should have gathered so much that is unmistakably pagan. | | | | | | chapter viii st. clement to st. thomas st. clement's day quests and processions--st. catherine's day as spinsters' festival--st. andrew's eve auguries--the _klöpfelnächte_--st. nicholas's day, the saint as gift-bringer, and his attendants--election of the boy bishop--st. nicholas's day at bari--st. lucia's day in sweden, sicily, and central europe--st. thomas's day as school festival--its uncanny eve--"going a-thomassin'." st. clement's day. the next folk-feast after martinmas is st. clement's day, november , once reckoned the first day of winter in england.{ } it marks apparently one of the stages in the progress of the winter feast towards its present solstitial date. in england some interesting popular customs existed on this day. in staffordshire children used to go round to the village houses begging for gifts, with rhymes resembling in many ways the "souling" verses i have already quoted. here is one of the staffordshire "clemencing" songs:-- "clemany! clemany! clemany mine! a good red apple and a pint of wine, some of your mutton and some of your veal, if it is good, pray give me a deal; if it is not, pray give me some salt. butler, butler, fill your bowl; if thou fill'st it of the best, the lord'll send your soul to rest; if thou fill'st it of the small, down goes butler, bowl and all. | | pray, good mistress, send to me one for peter, one for paul, one for him who made us all; apple, pear, plum, or cherry, any good thing to make us merry; a bouncing buck and a velvet chair, clement comes but once a year; off with the pot and on with the pan, a good red apple and i'll be gone."{ } in worcestershire on st. clement's day the boys chanted similar rhymes, and at the close of their collection they would roast the apples received and throw them into ale or cider.{ } in the north of england men used to go about begging drink, and at ripon minster the choristers went round the church offering everyone a rosy apple with a sprig of box on it.{ } the cambridge bakers held their annual supper on this day,{ } at tenby the fishermen were given a supper,{ } while the blacksmiths' apprentices at woolwich had a remarkable ceremony, akin perhaps to the boy bishop customs. one of their number was chosen to play the part of "old clem," was attired in a great coat, and wore a mask, a long white beard, and an oakum wig. seated in a large wooden chair, and surrounded by attendants bearing banners, torches, and weapons, he was borne about the town on the shoulders of six men, visiting numerous public-houses and the blacksmiths and officers of the dockyard. before him he had a wooden anvil, and in his hands a pair of tongs and a wooden hammer, the insignia of the blacksmith's trade.{ } st. catherine's day. november is st. catherine's day, and at woolwich arsenal a similar ceremony was then performed: a man was dressed in female attire, with a large wheel by his side to represent the saint, and was taken round the town{ } in a wooden chair. at chatham there was a torchlight procession on st. catherine's day, and a woman in white muslin with a gilt crown was carried about in a chair. she was said to represent not the saint, but queen catherine.{ } | | st. catherine's day was formerly a festival for the lacemakers of northamptonshire, buckinghamshire, and bedfordshire. she was the patroness of spinsters in the literal as well as the modern sense of the word, and at peterborough the workhouse girls used to go in procession round the city on her day, dressed in white with coloured ribbons; the tallest was chosen as queen and bore a crown and sceptre. as they went to beg money of the chief inhabitants they sang a quaint ballad which begins thus:-- "here comes queen catherine, as fine as any queen, with a coach and six horses a-coming to be seen, and a-spinning we will go, will go, will go, and a-spinning we will go."{ } we may perhaps see in this saint or queen catherine a female counterpart of the boy bishop, who began his career on st. nicholas's day. catherine, it must be remembered, is the patron saint of girls as nicholas is of boys. in belgium her day is still a festival for the "young person" both in schools and in families.{ } even in modern paris the dressmaker-girls celebrate it, and in a very charming way, too. "at midday the girls of every workroom present little mob-caps trimmed with yellow ribbons to those of their number who are over twenty-five and still unmarried. then they themselves put on becoming little caps with yellow flowers and yellow ribbons and a sprig of orange blossom on them, and out they go arm-in-arm to parade the streets and collect a tribute of flowers from every man they meet.... instead of working all the afternoon, the midinettes entertain all their friends (no men admitted, though, for it is the day of st. catherine) to concerts and even to dramatic performances in the workrooms, where the work-tables are turned into stages, and the employers provide supper."{ } st. andrew's day. the last day of november is the feast of st. andrew. of english customs on this day the most interesting perhaps are those connected with the "tander" or "tandrew" merrymakings | | of the northamptonshire lacemakers. a day of general licence used to end in masquerading. women went about in male attire and men and boys in female dress.{ } in kent and sussex squirrel-hunting was practised on this day{ }--a survival apparently of some old sacrificial custom comparable with the hunting of the wren at christmas (see chapter xii.). in germany st. andrew's eve is a great occasion for prognostications of the future. indeed, like hallowe'en in great britain, _andreasabend_ in germany seems to have preserved the customs of augury connected with the old november new year festival.{ } to a large extent the practices are performed by girls anxious to know what sort of husband they will get. many and various are the methods. sometimes it suffices to repeat some such rhyme as the following before going to sleep, and the future husband will appear in a dream:-- "st. andrew's eve is to-day, sleep all people, sleep all children of men, who are between heaven and earth, except this only man, who may be mine in marriage."{ } again, at nightfall let a girl shut herself up naked in her bedroom, take two beakers, and into one pour clear water, into the other wine. these let her place on the table, which is to be covered with white, and let the following words be said:-- "my dear st. andrew! let now appear before me my heart's most dearly beloved. if he shall be rich, he will pour a cup of wine; if he is to be poor, let him pour a cup of water." this done, the form of the future husband will enter and drink | | of one of the cups. if he is poor, he will take the water; if rich, the wine.{ } one of the most common practices is to pour molten lead or tin through a key into cold water, and to discover the calling of the future husband by the form it takes, which will represent the tools of his trade. the white of an egg is sometimes used for the same purpose.{ } another very widespread custom is to put nutshells to float on water with little candles burning in them. there are twice as many shells as there are girls present; each girl has her shell, and to the others the names of possible suitors are given. the man and the girl whose shells come together will marry one another. sometimes the same method is practised with little cups of silver foil.{ } on the border of saxony and bohemia, a maiden who wishes to know the bodily build of her future husband goes in the darkness to a stack of wood and draws out a piece. if the wood is smooth and straight the man will be slim and well built; if it is crooked, or knotted, he will be ill-developed or even a hunchback.{ } these are but a few of the many ways in which girls seek to peer into the future and learn something about the most important event in their lives. far less numerous, but not altogether absent on this night, are other kinds of prognostication. a person, for instance, who wishes to know whether he will die in the coming year, must on st. andrew's eve before going to bed make on the table a little pointed heap of flour. if by the morning it has fallen asunder, the maker will die.{ } the association of st. andrew's eve with the foreseeing of the future is not confined to the german race; it is found also on slavonic and roumanian ground. in croatia he who fasts then will behold his future wife in a dream,{ } and among the roumanians mothers anxious about their children's luck break small sprays from fruit-trees, bind them together in bunches, one for each child, and put them in a glass of water. the branch of the lucky one will blossom.{ } in roumania st. andrew's eve is a creepy time, for on it vampires are supposed to rise from their graves, and with coffins | | on their heads walk about the houses in which they once lived. before nightfall every woman takes some garlic and anoints with it the door locks and window casements; this will keep away the vampires. at the cross-roads there is a great fight of these loathsome beings until the first cock crows; and not only the dead take part in this, but also some living men who are vampires from their birth. sometimes it is only the souls of these living vampires that join in the fight; the soul comes out through the mouth in the form of a bluish flame, takes the shape of an animal, and runs to the crossway. if the body meanwhile is moved from its place the person dies, for the soul cannot find its way back.{ } st. andrew's day is sometimes the last, sometimes the first important festival of the western church's year. it is regarded in parts of germany as the beginning of winter, as witness the saying:-- "sünten-dres-misse, es de winter gewisse."[ ]{ } the nights are now almost at their longest, and as november passes away, giving place to the last month of the year, christmas is felt to be near at hand. in northern bohemia it is customary for peasant girls to keep for themselves all the yarn they spin on st. andrew's eve, and the _hausfrau_ gives them also some flax and a little money. with this they buy coffee and other refreshments for the lads who come to visit the parlours where in the long winter evenings the women sit spinning. these evenings, when many gather together in a brightly lighted room and sing songs and tell stories while they spin, are cheerful enough, and spice is added by the visits of the village lads, who in some places come to see the girls home.{ } the klÖpfelnÄchte. on the thursday nights in advent it is customary in southern germany for children or grown-up people to go from house | | to house, singing hymns and knocking on the doors with rods or little hammers, or throwing peas, lentils, and the like against the windows. hence these evenings have gained the name of _klöpfel_ or _knöpflinsnächte_ (knocking nights).{ } the practice is described by naogeorgus in the sixteenth century:-- "three weekes before the day whereon was borne the lord of grace, and on the thursdaye boyes and girles do runne in every place, and bounce and beate at every doore, with blowes and lustie snaps, and crie, the advent of the lorde not borne as yet perhaps. and wishing to the neighbours all, that in the houses dwell, a happie yeare, and every thing to spring and prosper well: here have they peares, and plumbs, and pence, ech man gives willinglee, for these three nightes are alwayes thought, unfortunate to bee; wherein they are afrayde of sprites and cankred witches' spight, and dreadfull devils blacke and grim, that then have chiefest might."{ } with it may be compared the macedonian custom for village boys to go in parties at nightfall on christmas eve, knocking at the cottage doors with sticks, shouting _kolianda! kolianda!_ and receiving presents,{ } and also one in vogue in holland between christmas and the epiphany. there "the children go out in couples, each boy carrying an earthenware pot, over which a bladder is stretched, with a piece of stick tied in the middle. when this stick is twirled about, a not very melodious grumbling sound proceeds from the contrivance, which is known by the name of 'rommelpot.' by going about in this manner the children are able to collect some few pence."{ } can such practices have originated in attempts to drive out evil spirits from the houses by noise? similar methods are used for that purpose by various european and other peoples.{ } anyhow something mysterious hangs about the _klöpfelnächte_. they are occasions for girls to learn about their future husbands, and upon them in swabia goes about pelzmärte, whom we already know.{ } | | in tyrol curious mummeries are then performed. at pillersee in the lower innthal two youths combine to form a mimic ass, upon which a third rides, and they are followed by a motley train. the ass falls sick and has to be cured by a "vet," and all kinds of satirical jokes are made about things that have happened in the parish during the year. elsewhere two men dress up in straw as husband and wife, and go out with a masked company. the pair wrangle with one another and carry on a play of wits with the peasants whose house they are visiting. sometimes the satire is so cutting that permanent enmities ensue, and for this reason the practice is gradually being dropped.{ } st. nicholas's day. on december we reach the most distinctive children's festival of the whole year, st. nicholas's day. in england it has gone out of mind, and in the flat north of germany protestantism has largely rooted it out, as savouring too much of saint-worship, and transferred its festivities to the more evangelical season of christmas.{ } in western and southern germany, however, and in austria, switzerland, and the low countries, it is still a day of joy for children, though in some regions even there its radiance tends to pale before the greater glory of the christmas-tree. it is not easy either to get at the historic facts about st. nicholas, the fourth-century bishop of myra in asia minor, or to ascertain why he became the patron saint of boys. the legends of his infant piety and his later wondrous works for the benefit of young people may either have given rise, or be themselves due to, his connection with children.{ } in eastern europe and southern italy he is above all things the saint of seafaring men, and among the greeks his cult has perhaps replaced that of artemis as a sea divinity.{ } this aspect of him does not, however, appear in the german festival customs with which we are here chiefly concerned. it has already been hinted that in some respects st. nicholas is a duplicate of st. martin. his feast, indeed, is probably a later beginning-of-winter festival, dating from the period when | | improved methods of agriculture and other causes made early december, rather than mid-november, the time for the great annual slaughter and its attendant rejoicings. like st. martin he brings sweet things for the good children and rods for the bad. st. nicholas's eve is a time of festive stir in holland and belgium; the shops are full of pleasant little gifts: many-shaped biscuits, gilt gingerbreads, sometimes representing the saint, sugar images, toys, and other trifles. in many places, when evening comes on, people dress up as st. nicholas, with mitre and pastoral staff, enquire about the behaviour of the children, and if it has been good pronounce a benediction and promise them a reward next morning. before they go to bed the children put out their shoes, with hay, straw, or a carrot in them for the saint's white horse or ass. when they wake in the morning, if they have been "good" the fodder is gone and sweet things or toys are in its place; if they have misbehaved themselves the provender is untouched and no gift but a rod is there.{ } in various parts of germany, switzerland, and austria st. nicholas is mimed by a man dressed up as a bishop.{ } in tyrol children pray to the saint on his eve and leave out hay for his white horse and a glass of _schnaps_ for his servant. and he comes in all the splendour of a church-image, a reverend grey-haired figure with flowing beard, gold-broidered cope, glittering mitre, and pastoral staff. children who know their catechism are rewarded with sweet things out of the basket carried by his servant; those who cannot answer are reproved, and st. nicholas points to a terrible form that stands behind him with a rod--the hideous klaubauf, a shaggy monster with horns, black face, fiery eyes, long red tongue, and chains that clank as he moves.{ } in lower austria the saint is followed by a similar figure called krampus or grampus;{ } in styria this horrible attendant is named bartel;{ } all are no doubt related to such monsters as the _klapperbock_ (see chapter vii.). their heathen origin is evident though it is difficult to trace their exact pedigree. sometimes st. nicholas himself appears in a non-churchly form like pelzmärte, with a bell,{ } or with a sack of ashes which gains him the name of aschenklas.{ } | | not only by hideous figures is st. nicholas attended. sometimes, as at warnsdorf near rumburg, there come with him the forms of christ himself, st. peter, an angel, and the famous knecht ruprecht, whom we shall meet again on christmas eve. they are represented by children, and a little drama is performed, one personage coming in after the other and calling for the next in the manner of the english mummers' play. st. nicholas, st. peter, and ruprecht accuse the children of all kinds of naughtiness, the "heiliger christ" intercedes and at last throws nuts down and receives money from the parents.{ } in tyrol there are st. nicholas plays of a more comic nature, performed publicly by large companies of players and introducing a number of humorous characters and much rude popular wit.{ } sometimes a female bogey used to appear: budelfrau in lower austria, berchtel in swabia, buzebergt in the neighbourhood of augsburg.{ } the last two are plainly variants of berchte, who is specially connected with the epiphany. berchtel used to punish the naughty children with a rod, and reward the good with nuts and apples; buzebergt wore black rags, had her face blackened and her hair hanging unkempt, and carried a pot of starch which she smeared upon people's faces.{ } as santa klaus st. nicholas is of course known to every english child, but rather as a sort of incarnation of christmas than as a saint with a day of his own. santa klaus, probably, has come to us _viâ_ the united states, whither the dutch took him, and where he has still immense popularity. in the middle ages in england as elsewhere the eve of st. nicholas was a day of great excitement for boys. it was then that the small choristers and servers in cathedral and other churches generally elected their "boy bishop" or "nicholas."{ } he had in some places to officiate at first vespers and at the services on the festival itself. as a rule, however, the feast of the holy innocents, december , was probably the most important day in the boy bishop's career, and we may therefore postpone our consideration of him. we will here only note his connection with the festival of the patron saint of boys, a connection perhaps implying a common origin for him and | | for the st. nicholases who in bishops' vestments make their present-giving rounds. the festival of st. nicholas is naturally celebrated with most splendour at the place where his body lies, the seaport of bari in south-eastern italy. the holy bones are preserved in a sepulchre beneath a crypt of rich saracenic architecture, above which rises a magnificent church. legend relates that in the eleventh century they were stolen by certain merchants of bari from the saint's own cathedral at myra in asia minor. the tomb of st. nicholas is a famous centre for pilgrimages, and on the th of december many thousands of the faithful, bearing staves bound with olive and pine, visit it. an interesting ceremony on the festival is the taking of the saint's image out to sea by the sailors of the port. they return with it at nightfall, and a great procession escorts it back to the cathedral with torches and fireworks and chanting.{ } here may be seen the other, the seafaring, aspect of st. nicholas; by this mariners' cult we are taken far away from the present-giving saint who delights the small children of the north. st. lucia's day. the only folk-festivals of note between st. nicholas's day and christmas are those of st. lucia (december ) and st. thomas the apostle (december ). in sweden st. lucia's day was formerly marked by some interesting practices. it was, so to speak, the entrance to the christmas festival, and was called "little yule."{ } at the first cock-crow, between and a.m., the prettiest girl in the house used to go among the sleeping folk, dressed in a white robe, a red sash, and a wire crown covered with whortleberry-twigs and having nine lighted candles fastened in it. she awakened the sleepers and regaled them with a sweet drink or with coffee,[ ] sang a special song, and was named "lussi" or "lussibruden" (lucy bride). when everyone was dressed, breakfast was taken, the room being lighted by many candles. the domestic animals | | were not forgotten on this day, but were given special portions. a peculiar feature of the swedish custom is the presence of lights on lussi's crown. lights indeed are the special mark of the festival; it was customary to shoot and fish on st. lucy's day by torchlight, the parlours, as has been said, were brilliantly illuminated in the early morning, in west gothland lussi went round the village preceded by torchbearers, and in one parish she was represented by a cow with a crown of lights on her head. in schools the day was celebrated with illuminations.{ } what is the explanation of this feast of lights? there is nothing in the legend of the saint to account for it; her name, however, at once suggests _lux_--light. it is possible, as dr. feilberg supposes, that the name gave rise to the special use of lights among the latin-learned monks who brought christianity to sweden, and that the custom spread from them to the common people. a peculiar fitness would be found in it because st. lucia's day according to the old style was the shortest day of the year, the turning-point of the sun's light.{ } in sicily also st. lucia's festival is a feast of lights. after sunset on the eve a long procession of men, lads, and children, each flourishing a thick bunch of long straws all afire, rushes wildly down the streets of the mountain village of montedoro, as if fleeing from some danger, and shouting hoarsely. "the darkness of the night," says an eye-witness, "was lighted up by this savage procession of dancing, flaming torches, whilst bonfires in all the side streets gave the illusion that the whole village was burning." at the end of the procession came the image of santa lucia, holding a dish which contained her eyes.[ ] in the midst of the _piazza_ a great mountain of straw had been prepared; on this everyone threw his own burning torch, and the saint was placed in a spot from which she could survey the vast bonfire.{ } in central europe we see st. lucia in other aspects. in the böhmerwald she goes round the village in the form of a nanny-goat with horns, gives fruit to the good children, and threatens to rip open the belly of the naughty. here she is evidently related | | to the pagan monsters already described. in tyrol she plays a more graceful part: she brings presents for girls, an office which st. nicholas is there supposed to perform for boys only.{ } in lower austria st. lucia's eve is a time when special danger from witchcraft is feared and must be averted by prayer and incense. a procession is made through each house to cense every room. on this evening, too, girls are afraid to spin lest in the morning they should find their distaffs twisted, the threads broken, and the yarn in confusion. (we shall meet with like superstitions during the twelve nights.) at midnight the girls practise a strange ceremony: they go to a willow-bordered brook, cut the bark of a tree partly away, without detaching it, make with a knife a cross on the inner side of the cut bark, moisten it with water, and carefully close up the opening. on new year's day the cutting is opened, and the future is augured from the markings found. the lads, on the other hand, look out at midnight for a mysterious light, the _luzieschein_, the forms of which indicate coming events.{ } in denmark, too, st. lucia's eve is a time for seeing the future. here is a prayer of danish maids: "sweet st. lucy let me know: whose cloth i shall lay, whose bed i shall make, whose child i shall bear, whose darling i shall be, whose arms i shall sleep in."{ } st. thomas's day. many and various are the customs and beliefs associated with the feast of st. thomas (december ). in denmark it was formerly a great children's day, unique in the year, and rather resembling the mediaeval boy bishop festival. it was the breaking-up day for schools; the children used to bring their master an offering of candles and money, and in return he gave them a feast. in some places it had an even more delightful side: for this one day in the year the children were allowed the mastery in the school. testimonials to their scholarship and industry were made out, and elaborate titles were added to their names, as exalted sometimes as "pope," "emperor," or "empress." poor children used to go about showing these | | documents and collecting money. games and larks of all sorts went on in the schools without a word of reproof, and the children were wont to burn their master's rod.{ } in the neighbourhood of antwerp children go early to school on st. thomas's day, and lock the master out, until he promises to treat them with ale or other drink. after this they buy a cock and hen, which are allowed to escape and have to be caught by the boys or the girls respectively. the girl who catches the hen is called "queen," the boy who gets the cock, "king." elsewhere in belgium children lock out their parents, and servants their masters, while schoolboys bind their teacher to his chair and carry him over to the inn. there he has to buy back his liberty by treating his scholars with punch and cakes. instead of the chase for the fowls, it was up to the custom in the ardennes for the teacher to give the children hens and let them chop the heads off.{ } some pagan sacrifice no doubt lies at the root of this barbarous practice, which has many parallels in the folk-lore of western and southern europe.{ } as for schoolboys' larks with their teachers, the custom of "barring out the master" existed in england, and was practised before christmas{ } as well as at other times of the year, notably shrove tuesday. at bromfield in cumberland on shrove tuesday there was a regular siege, the school doors were strongly barricaded within, and the boy-defenders were armed with pop-guns. if the master won, heavy tasks were imposed, but if, as more often happened, he was defeated in his efforts to regain his authority, he had to make terms with the boys as to the hours of work and play.{ } st. thomas's eve is in certain regions one of the uncanniest nights in the year. in some bohemian villages the saint is believed to drive about at midnight in a chariot of fire. in the churchyard there await him all the dead men whose name is thomas; they help him to alight and accompany him to the churchyard cross, which glows red with supernatural radiance. there st. thomas kneels and prays, and then rises to bless his namesakes. this done, he vanishes beneath the cross, and each thomas returns to his grave. the saint here seems to have taken over | | the character of some pagan god, who, like the teutonic odin or woden, ruled the souls of the departed. in the houses the people listen with awe for the sound of his chariot, and when it is heard make anxious prayer to him for protection from all ill. before retiring to rest the house-father goes to the cowhouse with holy water and consecrated salt, asperges it from without, and then entering, sprinkles every cow. salt is also thrown on the head of each animal with the words, "st. thomas preserve thee from all sickness." in the böhmerwald the cattle are fed on this night with consecrated bayberries, bread, and salt, in order to avert disease.{ } in upper and lower austria st. thomas's eve is reckoned as one of the so-called _rauchnächte_ (smoke-nights) when houses and farm-buildings must be sanctified with incense and holy water, the other nights being the eves of christmas, the new year, and the epiphany.{ } in germany st. thomas's, like st. andrew's eve, is a time for forecasting the future, and the methods already described are sometimes employed by girls who wish to behold their future husbands. a widely diffused custom is that of throwing shoes backwards over the shoulders. if the points are found turned towards the door the thrower is destined to leave the house during the year; if they are turned away from it another year will be spent there. in westphalia a belief prevails that you must eat and drink heartily on this night in order to avert scarcity.{ } in lower austria it is supposed that sluggards can cure themselves of oversleeping by saying a special prayer before they go to bed on st. thomas's eve, and in westphalia in the mid-nineteenth century the same association of the day with slumber was shown by the schoolchildren's custom of calling the child who arrived last at school _domesesel_ (thomas ass). in holland, again, the person who lies longest in bed on st. thomas's day is greeted with shouts of "lazybones." probably the fact that december is the shortest day is enough to account for this.{ } in england there was divination by means of "st. thomas's onion." girls used to peel an onion, wrap it in a handkerchief and put it under their heads at night, with a prayer to the satin | | to show them their true love in a dream.{ } the most notable english custom on this day, however, was the peregrinations of poor people begging for money or provisions for christmas. going "a-gooding," or "a-thomassin'," or "a-mumping," this was called. sometimes in return for the charity bestowed a sprig of holly or mistletoe was given.{ } possibly the sprig was originally a sacrament of the healthful spirit of growth: it may be compared with the olive- or cornel-branches carried about on new year's eve by macedonian boys,{ } and also with the st. martin's rod (see last chapter). one more english custom on december must be mentioned--it points to a sometime sacrifice--the bull-baiting practised until at wokingham in berkshire. its abolition in caused great resentment among the populace, although the flesh continued to be duly distributed.{ } * * * * * we are now four days from the feast of the nativity, and many things commonly regarded as distinctive of christmas have already come under notice. we have met, for instance, with several kinds of present-giving, with auguries for the new year, with processions of carol-singers and well-wishers, with ceremonial feasting that anticipates the christmas eating and drinking, and with various figures, saintly or monstrous, mimed or merely imagined, which we shall find reappearing at the greatest of winter festivals. these things would seem to have been attracted from earlier dates to the feast of the nativity, and the probability that christmas has borrowed much from an old november festival gradually shifted into december, is our justification for having dwelt so long upon the feasts that precede the twelve days. | | | | | | chapter ix christmas eve and the twelve days christkind, santa klaus, and knecht ruprecht--talking animals and other wonders of christmas eve--scandinavian beliefs about trolls and the return of the dead--traditional christmas songs in eastern europe--the twelve days, their christian origin and pagan superstitions--the raging host--hints of supernatural visitors in england--the german _frauen_--the greek _kallikantzaroi_. [illustration: christmas eve in devonshire--the mummers coming in] christmas eve. christmas in the narrowest sense must be reckoned as beginning on the evening of december . though christmas eve is not much observed in modern england, throughout the rest of europe its importance so far as popular customs are concerned is far greater than that of the day itself. then in germany the christmas-tree is manifested in its glory; then, as in the england of the past, the yule log is solemnly lighted in many lands; then often the most distinctive christmas meal takes place. we shall consider these and other institutions later; though they appear first on christmas eve, they belong more or less to the twelve days as a whole. let us look first at the supernatural visitors, mimed by human beings, who delight the minds of children, especially in germany, on the evening of december , and at the beliefs that hang around this most solemn night of the year. * * * * * first of all, the activities of st. nicholas are not confined to his own festival; he often appears on christmas eve. we have already seen how he is attended by various companions, including | | christ himself, and how he comes now vested as a bishop, now as a masked and shaggy figure. the names and attributes of the christmas and advent visitors are rather confused, but on the whole it may be said that in protestant north germany the episcopal st. nicholas and his eve have been replaced by christmas eve and the christ child, while the name klas has become attached to various unsaintly forms appearing at or shortly before christmas. we can trace a deliberate substitution of the christ child for st. nicholas as the bringer of gifts. in the early seventeenth century a protestant pastor is found complaining that parents put presents in their children's beds and tell them that st. nicholas has brought them. "this," he says, "is a bad custom, because it points children to the saint, while yet we know that not st. nicholas but the holy christ child gives us all good things for body and soul, and he alone it is whom we ought to call upon."{ } the ways in which the figure, or at all events the name, of christ himself, is introduced into german christmas customs, are often surprising. the christ child, "christkind," so familiar to german children, has now become a sort of mythical figure, a product of sentiment and imagination working so freely as almost to forget the sacred character of the original. christkind bears little resemblance to the infant of bethlehem; he is quite a tall child, and is often represented by a girl dressed in white, with long fair hair. he hovers, indeed, between the character of the divine infant and that of an angel, and is regarded more as a kind of good fairy than as anything else. in alsace the girl who represents christkind has her face "made up" with flour, wears a crown of gold paper with lighted candles in it--a parallel to the headgear of the swedish lussi; in one hand she holds a silver bell, in the other, a basket of sweetmeats. she is followed by the terrible hans trapp, dressed in a bearskin, with blackened face, long beard, and threatening rod. he "goes for" the naughty children, who are only saved by the intercession of christkind.{ } in the mittelmark the name of _de hêle_ (holy) _christ_ is strangely | | given to a skin- or straw-clad man, elsewhere called knecht ruprecht, klas, or joseph.{ } in the ruppin district a man dresses up in white with ribbons, carries a large pouch, and is called _christmann_ or _christpuppe_. he is accompanied by a _schimmelreiter_ and by other fellows who are attired as women, have blackened faces, and are named _feien_ (we may see in them a likeness to the kalends maskers condemned by the early church). the procession goes round from house to house. the _schimmelreiter_ as he enters has to jump over a chair; this done, the _christpuppe_ is admitted. the girls present begin to sing, and the _schimmelreiter_ dances with one of them. meanwhile the _christpuppe_ makes the children repeat some verse of scripture or a hymn; if they know it well, he rewards them with gingerbreads from his wallet; if not, he beats them with a bundle filled with ashes. then both he and the _schimmelreiter_ dance and pass on. only when they are gone are the _feien_ allowed to enter; they jump wildly about and frighten the children.{ } knecht ruprecht, to whom allusion has already been made, is a prominent figure in the german christmas. on christmas eve in the north he goes about clad in skins or straw and examines children; if they can say their prayers perfectly he rewards them with apples, nuts and gingerbreads; if not, he punishes them. in the mittelmark, as we have seen, a personage corresponding to him is sometimes called "the holy christ"; in mecklenburg he is "rû klas" (rough nicholas--note his identification with the saint); in brunswick, hanover, and holstein "klas," "klawes," "klas bûr" and "bullerklas"; and in silesia "joseph." sometimes he wears bells and carries a long staff with a bag of ashes at the end--hence the name "aschenklas" occasionally given to him.{ } an ingenious theory connects this aspect of him with the _polaznik_ of the slavs, who on christmas day in crivoscian farms goes to the hearth, takes up the ashes of the yule log and dashes them against the cauldron-hook above so that sparks fly (see chapter x.).{ } as for the name "ruprecht" the older mythologists interpreted it as meaning "shining with glory," _hruodperaht_, and identified its owner with the god woden.{ } dr. tille, however, regards him | | as dating only from the seventeenth century.{ } it can hardly be said that any satisfactory account has as yet been given of the origins of this personage, or of his relation to st. nicholas, pelzmärte, and monstrous creatures like the _klapperbock_. in the south-western part of lower austria, both st. nicholas--a proper bishop with mitre, staff, and ring--and ruprecht appear on christmas eve, and there is quite an elaborate ceremonial. the children welcome the saint with a hymn; then he goes to a table and makes each child repeat a prayer and show his lesson-books. meanwhile ruprecht in a hide, with glowing eyes and a long red tongue, stands at the door to overawe the young people. each child next kneels before the saint and kisses his ring, whereupon nicholas bids him put his shoes out-of-doors and look in them when the clock strikes ten. after this the saint lays on the table a rod dipped in lime, solemnly blesses the children, sprinkling them with holy water, and noiselessly departs. the children steal out into the garden, clear a space in the snow, and set out their shoes; when the last stroke of ten has sounded they find them filled with nuts and apples and all kinds of sweet things.{ } in the troppau district of austrian silesia, three figures go round on christmas eve--christkindel, the archangel gabriel, and st. peter--and perform a little play before the presents they bring are given. christkindel announces that he has gifts for the good children, but the bad shall feel the rod. st. peter complains of the naughtiness of the youngsters: they play about in the streets instead of going straight to school; they tear up their lesson-books and do many other wicked things. however, the children's mother pleads for them, and st. peter relents and gives out the presents.{ } in the erzgebirge appear st. peter and ruprecht, who is clad in skin and straw, has a mask over his face, a rod, a chain round his body, and a sack with apples, nuts, and other gifts; and a somewhat similar performance is gone through.{ } if we go as far east as russia we find a parallel to the girl christkind in kolyáda, a white-robed maiden driven about in a sledge from house to house on christmas eve. the young people who attended her sang carols, and presents were given | | them in return. _kolyáda_ is the name for christmas and appears to be derived from _kalendae_, which probably entered the slavonic languages by way of byzantium. the maiden is one of those beings who, like the italian befana, have taken their names from the festival at which they appear.{ } * * * * * no time in all the twelve nights and days is so charged with the supernatural as christmas eve. doubtless this is due to the fact that the church has hallowed the night of december - above all others in the year. it was to the shepherds keeping watch over their flocks _by night_ that, according to the third evangelist, came the angelic message of the birth, and in harmony with this is the unique midnight mass of the roman church, lending a peculiar sanctity to the hour of its celebration. and yet many of the beliefs associated with this night show a large admixture of paganism. first, there is the idea that at midnight on christmas eve animals have the power of speech. this superstition exists in various parts of europe, and no one can hear the beasts talk with impunity. the idea has given rise to some curious and rather grim tales. here is one from brittany:-- "once upon a time there was a woman who starved her cat and dog. at midnight on christmas eve she heard the dog say to the cat, 'it is quite time we lost our mistress; she is a regular miser. to-night burglars are coming to steal her money; and if she cries out they will break her head.' ''twill be a good deed,' the cat replied. the woman in terror got up to go to a neighbour's house; as she went out the burglars opened the door, and when she shouted for help they broke her head."{ } again a story is told of a farm servant in the german alps who did not believe that the beasts could speak, and hid in a stable on christmas eve to learn what went on. at midnight he heard surprising things. "we shall have hard work to do this day week," said one horse. "yes, the farmer's servant is heavy," answered the other. "and the way to the churchyard is long and steep," said the first. the servant was buried that day week.{ } | | it may well have been the traditional association of the ox and ass with the nativity that fixed this superstition to christmas eve, but the conception of the talking animals is probably pagan. related to this idea, but more christian in form, is the belief that at midnight all cattle rise in their stalls or kneel and adore the new-born king. readers of mr. hardy's "tess" will remember how this is brought into a delightful story told by a wessex peasant. the idea is widespread in england and on the continent,{ } and has reached even the north american indians. howison, in his "sketches of upper canada," relates that an indian told him that "on christmas night all deer kneel and look up to great spirit."{ } a somewhat similar belief about bees was held in the north of england: they were said to assemble on christmas eve and hum a christmas hymn.{ } bees seem in folk-lore in general to be specially near to humanity in their feelings. it is a widespread idea that at midnight on christmas eve all water turns to wine. a guernsey woman once determined to test this; at midnight she drew a bucket from the well. then came a voice:-- "toute l'eau se tourne en vin, et tu es proche de ta fin." she fell down with a mortal disease, and died before the end of the year. in sark the superstition is that the water in streams and wells turns into blood, and if you go to look you will die within the year.{ } there is also a french belief that on christmas eve, while the genealogy of christ is being chanted at the midnight mass, hidden treasures are revealed.{ } in russia all sorts of buried treasures are supposed to be revealed on the evenings between christmas and the epiphany, and on the eves of these festivals the heavens are opened, and the waters of springs and rivers turn into wine.{ } another instance of the supernatural character of the night is found in a breton story of a blacksmith who went on working after the sacring bell had rung at the midnight mass. to him | | came a tall, stooping man with a scythe, who begged him to put in a nail. he did so; and the visitor in return bade him send for a priest, for this work would be his last. the figure disappeared, the blacksmith felt his limbs fail him, and at cock-crow he died. he had mended the scythe of the _ankou_--death the reaper.{ } in the scandinavian countries simple folk have a vivid sense of the nearness of the supernatural on christmas eve. on yule night no one should go out, for he may meet uncanny beings of all kinds. in sweden the trolls are believed to celebrate christmas eve with dancing and revelry. "on the heaths witches and little trolls ride, one on a wolf, another on a broom or a shovel, to their assemblies, where they dance under their stones.... in the mount are then to be heard mirth and music, dancing and drinking. on christmas morn, during the time between cock-crowing and daybreak, it is highly dangerous to be abroad."{ } christmas eve is also in scandinavian folk-belief the time when the dead revisit their old homes, as on all souls' eve in roman catholic lands. the living prepare for their coming with mingled dread and desire to make them welcome. when the christmas eve festivities are over, and everyone has gone to rest, the parlour is left tidy and adorned, with a great fire burning, candles lighted, the table covered with a festive cloth and plentifully spread with food, and a jug of yule ale ready. sometimes before going to bed people wipe the chairs with a clean white towel; in the morning they are wiped again, and, if earth is found, some kinsman, fresh from the grave, has sat there. consideration for the dead even leads people to prepare a warm bath in the belief that, like living folks, the kinsmen will want a wash before their festal meal.[ ] or again beds were made ready for them while the living slept on straw. not always is it consciously the dead for whom these preparations are made, sometimes they are said to be for the trolls and sometimes even for | | the saviour and his angels.{ } (we may compare with this christian idea the tyrolese custom of leaving some milk for the christ child and his mother{ } at the hour of midnight mass, and a breton practice of leaving food all through christmas night in case the virgin should come.{ }) it is difficult to say how far the other supernatural beings--their name is legion--who in norway, sweden, denmark, and iceland are believed to come out of their underground hiding-places during the long dark christmas nights, were originally ghosts of the dead. twenty years ago many students would have accounted for them all in this way, but the tendency now is strongly against the derivation of all supernatural beings from ancestor-worship. elves, trolls, dwarfs, witches, and other uncanny folk--the beliefs about their christmas doings are too many to be treated here; readers of danish will find a long and very interesting chapter on this subject in dr. feilberg's "jul."{ } i may mention just one familiar figure of the scandinavian yule, tomte gubbe, a sort of genius of the house corresponding very much to the "drudging goblin" of milton's "l'allegro," for whom the cream-bowl must be duly set. he may perhaps be the spirit of the founder of the family. at all events on christmas eve yule porridge and new milk are set out for him, sometimes with other things, such as a suit of small clothes, spirits, or even tobacco. thus must his goodwill be won for the coming year.{ } in one part of norway it used to be believed that on christmas eve, at rare intervals, the old norse gods made war on christians, coming down from the mountains with great blasts of wind and wild shouts, and carrying off any human being who might be about. in one place the memory of such a visitation was preserved in the nineteenth century. the people were preparing for their festivities, when suddenly from the mountains came the warning sounds. "in a second the air became black, peals of thunder echoed among the hills, lightning danced about the buildings, and the inhabitants in the darkened rooms heard the clatter of hoofs and the weird shrieks of the hosts of the gods."{ } | | the scandinavian countries, protestant though they are, have retained many of the outward forms of catholicism, and the sign of the cross is often used as a protection against uncanny visitors. the cross--perhaps the symbol was originally thor's hammer--is marked with chalk or tar or fire upon doors and gates, is formed of straw or other material and put in stables and cowhouses, or is smeared with the remains of the yule candle on the udders of the beasts--it is in fact displayed at every point open to attack by a spirit of darkness.{ } * * * * * christmas eve is in germany a time for auguries. some of the methods already noted on other days are practised upon it--for instance the pouring of molten lead into water, the flinging of shoes, the pulling out of pieces of wood, and the floating of nutshells--and there are various others which it might be tedious to describe.{ } among the southern slavs if a girl wants to know what sort of husband she will get, she covers the table on christmas eve, puts on it a white loaf, a plate, and a knife, spoon, and fork, and goes to bed. at midnight the spirit of her future husband will appear and fling the knife at her. if it falls without injuring her she will get a good husband and be happy, but if she is hurt she will die early. there is a similar mode of divination for a young fellow. on christmas eve, when everybody else has gone to church, he must, naked and in darkness, sift ashes through a sieve. his future bride will then appear, pull him thrice by the nose, and go away.{ } in eastern europe christmas, and especially christmas eve, is the time for the singing of carols called in russian _kolyádki_, and in other slav countries by similar names derived from _kalendae_.{ } more often than not these are without connection with the nativity; sometimes they have a christian form and tell of the doings of god, the virgin and the saints, but frequently they are of an entirely secular or even pagan character. into some the sun, moon, and stars and other natural objects are introduced, and they seem to be based on myths to which a christian appearance has been given by a sprinkling of names of holy persons of the | | church. here for instance is a fragment from a carpathian song:-- "a golden plough goes ploughing, and behind that plough is the lord himself. the holy peter helps him to drive, and the mother of god carries the seed corn, carries the seed corn, prays to the lord god, 'make, o lord, the strong wheat to grow, the strong wheat and the vigorous corn! the stalks then shall be like reeds!'"{ } often they contain wishes for the prosperity of the household and end with the words, "for many years, for many years." the roumanian songs are frequently very long, and a typical, oft-recurring refrain is:-- "this evening is a great evening, white flowers; great evening of christmas, white flowers."{ } sometimes they are ballads of the national life. in russia a carol beginning "glory be to god in heaven, glory!" and calling down blessings on the tsar and his people, is one of the most prominent among the _kolyádki_, and opens the singing of the songs called _podblyudnuiya_. "at the christmas festival a table is covered with a cloth, and on it is set a dish or bowl (_blyudo_) containing water. the young people drop rings or other trinkets into the dish, which is afterwards covered with a cloth, and then the _podblyudnuiya_ songs commence. at the end of each song one of the trinkets is drawn at random, and its owner deduces an omen from the nature of the words which have just been sung."{ } the twelve days. whatever the limits fixed for the beginning and end of the christmas festival, its core is always the period between christmas | | eve and the epiphany--the "twelve days."[ ] a cycle of feasts falls within this time, and the customs peculiar to each day will be treated in calendarial order. first, however, it will be well to glance at the character of the twelve days as a whole, and at the superstitions which hang about the season. so many are these superstitions, so "bewitched" is the time, that the older mythologists not unnaturally saw in it a teutonic festal season, dating from pre-christian days. in point of fact it appears to be simply a creation of the church, a natural linking together of christmas and epiphany. it is first mentioned as a festal tide by the eastern father, ephraem syrus, at the end of the fourth century, and was declared to be such by the western council of tours in .{ } while christmas eve is the night _par excellence_ of the supernatural, the whole season of the twelve days is charged with it. it is hard to see whence shakespeare could have got the idea which he puts into the mouth of marcellus in "hamlet":-- "some say that ever 'gainst that season comes wherein our saviour's birth is celebrated, the bird of dawning singeth all night long; and then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad; the nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, no fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, so hallow'd and so gracious is the time."{ } against this is the fact that in folk-lore christmas is a quite peculiarly uncanny time. not unnatural is it that at this midwinter season of darkness, howling winds, and raging storms, men should have thought to see and hear the mysterious shapes and voices of dread beings whom the living shun. throughout the teutonic world one finds the belief in a "raging | | host" or "wild hunt" or spirits, rushing howling through the air on stormy nights. in north devon its name is "yeth (heathen) hounds";{ } elsewhere in the west of england it is called the "wish hounds."{ } it is the train of the unhappy souls of those who died unbaptized, or by violent hands, or under a curse, and often woden is their leader.{ } at least since the seventeenth century this "raging host" (_das wüthende heer_) has been particularly associated with christmas in german folk-lore,{ } and in iceland it goes by the name of the "yule host."{ } in guernsey the powers of darkness are supposed to be more than usually active between st. thomas's day and new year's eve, and it is dangerous to be out after nightfall. people are led astray then by will o' the wisp, or are preceded or followed by large black dogs, or find their path beset by white rabbits that go hopping along just under their feet.{ } in england there are signs that supernatural visitors were formerly looked for during the twelve days. first there was a custom of cleansing the house and its implements with peculiar care. in shropshire, for instance, "the pewter and brazen vessels had to be made so bright that the maids could see to put their caps on in them--otherwise the fairies would pinch them, but if all was perfect, the worker would find a coin in her shoe." again in shropshire special care was taken to put away any suds or "back-lee" for washing purposes, and no spinning might be done during the twelve days.{ } it was said elsewhere that if any flax were left on the distaff, the devil would come and cut it.{ } the prohibition of spinning may be due to the church's hallowing of the season and the idea that all work then was wrong. this churchly hallowing may lie also at the root of the danish tradition that from christmas till new year's day nothing that runs round should be set in motion,{ } and of the german idea that no thrashing must be done during the twelve days, or all the corn within hearing will spoil. the expectation of uncanny visitors in the english traditions calls, however, for special attention; it is perhaps because of their coming that the house must be left spotlessly clean and with as little as possible about on which they can work mischief.{ } though i know of no distinct english belief in the | | return of the family dead at christmas, it may be that the fairies expected in shropshire were originally ancestral ghosts. such a derivation of the elves and brownies that haunt the hearth is very probable.{ } * * * * * the belief about the devil cutting flax left on the distaff links the english superstitions to the mysterious _frau_ with various names, who in germany is supposed to go her rounds during the twelve nights. she has a special relation to spinning, often punishing girls who leave their flax unspun. in central germany and in parts of austria she is called frau holle or holda, in southern germany and tyrol frau berchta or perchta, in the north down to the harz mountains frau freen or frick, or fru gode or fru harke, and there are other names too.{ } attempts have been made to dispute her claim to the rank of an old teutonic goddess and to prove her a creation of the middle ages, a representative of the crowd of ghosts supposed to be specially near to the living at christmastide.{ } it is questionable whether she can be thus explained away, and at the back of the varying names, and much overlaid no doubt with later superstitions, there may be a traditional goddess corresponding to that old divinity frigg to whom we owe the name of friday. the connection of frick with frigg is very probable, and frick shares characteristics with the other _frauen_.{ } all are connected with spinning and spinsters (in the literal sense). fru frick or freen in the uckermark and the northern harz permits no spinning during the time when she goes her rounds, and if there are lazy spinsters she soils the unspun flax on their distaff. in like manner do holda, harke, berchta, and gode punish lazy girls.{ } the characters of the _frauen_ can best be shown by the things told of them in different regions. they are more dreaded than loved, but if severe in their chastisements they are also generous in rewarding those who do them service. frau gaude (also called gode, gaue, or wode) is said in mecklenburg to love to drive through the village streets on the twelve nights with a train of dogs. wherever she finds a street-door open she sends a little dog in. next morning he wags his | | tail at the inmates and whines, and will not be driven away. if killed, he turns into a stone by day; this, though it may be thrown away, always returns and is a dog again by night. all through the year he whines and brings ill luck upon the house; so people are careful to keep their street-doors shut during the twelve nights.{ } good luck, however, befalls those who do frau gaude a service. a man who put a new pole to her carriage was brilliantly repaid--the chips that fell from the pole turned to glittering gold. similar stories of golden chips are told about holda and berchta.{ } a train of dogs belongs not only to frau gaude but also to frau harke; with these howling beasts they go raging through the air by night.{ } the _frauen_ in certain aspects are, indeed, the leaders of the "wild host." holda and perchta, as some strange stories show, are the guides and guardians of the _heimchen_ or souls of children who have died unbaptized. in the valley of the saale, so runs a tale, perchta, queen of the _heimchen_, had her dwelling of old, and at her command the children watered the fields, while she worked with her plough. but the people of the place were ungrateful, and she resolved to leave their land. one night a ferryman beheld on the bank of the saale a tall, stately lady with a crowd of weeping children. she demanded to be ferried across, and the children dragged a plough into the boat, crying bitterly. as a reward for the ferrying, perchta, mending her plough, pointed to the chips. the man grumblingly took three, and in the morning they had turned to gold-pieces.{ } holda, whose name means "the kindly one," is the most friendly of the _frauen_. in saxony she brings rewards for diligent spinsters, and on every new year's eve, between nine and ten o'clock, she drives in a carriage full of presents through villages where respect has been shown to her. at the crack of her whip the people come out to receive her gifts. in hesse and thuringia she is imagined as a beautiful woman clad in white with long golden hair, and, when it snows hard, people say, "frau holle is shaking her featherbed."{ } | | more of a bugbear on the whole is berchte or perchte (the name is variously spelt). she is particularly connected with the eve of the epiphany, and it is possible that her name comes from the old german _giper(c)hta na(c)ht_, the bright or shining night, referring to the manifestation of christ's glory.{ } in carinthia the epiphany is still called _berchtentag_.{ } berchte is sometimes a bogey to frighten children. in the mountains round traunstein children are told on epiphany eve that if they are naughty she will come and cut their stomachs open.{ } in upper austria the girls must finish their spinning by christmas; if frau berch finds flax still on their distaffs she will be angered and send them bad luck.{ } in the orlagau (between the saale and the orle) on the night before twelfth day, perchta examines the spinning-rooms and brings the spinners empty reels with directions to spin them full within a very brief time; if this is not done she punishes them by tangling and befouling the flax. she also cuts open the body of any one who has not eaten _zemmede_ (fasting fare made of flour and milk and water) that day, takes out any other food he has had, fills the empty space with straw and bricks, and sews him up again.{ } and yet, as we have seen, she has a kindly side--at any rate she rewards those who serve her--and in styria at christmas she even plays the part of santa klaus, hearing children repeat their prayers and rewarding them with nuts and apples.{ } there is a charming tyrolese story about her. at midnight on epiphany eve a peasant--not too sober--suddenly heard behind him "a sound of many voices, which came on nearer and nearer, and then the berchtl, in her white clothing, her broken ploughshare in her hand, and all her train of little people, swept clattering and chattering close past him. the least was the last, and it wore a long shirt which got in the way of its little bare feet, and kept tripping it up. the peasant had sense enough left to feel compassion, so he took his garter off and bound it for a girdle round the infant, and then set it again on its way. when the berchtl saw what he had done, she turned back and thanked him, and told him that in return for his compassion his children should never come to want."{ } | | in tyrol, by the way, it is often said that the perchtl is pontius pilate's wife, procula.{ } in the italian dialects of south tyrol the german frau berchta has been turned into _la donna berta_.{ } if one goes further south, into italy itself, one meets with a similar being, the befana, whose name is plainly nothing but a corruption of _epiphania_. she is so distinctly a part of the epiphany festival that we may leave her to be considered later. * * * * * of all supernatural christmas visitors, the most vividly realized and believed in at the present day are probably the greek _kallikantzaroi_ or _karkantzaroi_.{ } they are the terror of the greek peasant during the twelve days; in the soil of his imagination they flourish luxuriantly, and to him they are a very real and living nuisance. traditions about the _kallikantzaroi_ vary from region to region, but in general they are half-animal, half-human monsters, black, hairy, with huge heads, glaring red eyes, goats' or asses' ears, blood-red tongues hanging out, ferocious tusks, monkeys' arms, and long curved nails, and commonly they have the foot of some beast. "from dawn till sunset they hide themselves in dark and dank places ... but at night they issue forth and run wildly to and fro, rending and crushing those who cross their path. destruction and waste, greed and lust mark their course." when a house is not prepared against their coming, "by chimney and door alike they swarm in, and make havoc of the home; in sheer wanton mischief they overturn and break all the furniture, devour the christmas pork, befoul all the water and wine and food which remains, and leave the occupants half dead with fright or violence." many like or far worse pranks do they play, until at the crowing of the third cock they get them away to their dens. the signal for their final departure does not come until the epiphany, when, as we saw in chapter iv., the "blessing of the waters" takes place. some of the hallowed water is put into vessels, and with these and with incense the priests sometimes make a round of the village, sprinkling the people and their houses. the fear of the | | _kallikantzaroi_ at this purification is expressed in the following lines:-- "quick, begone! we must begone, here comes the pot-bellied priest, with his censer in his hand and his sprinkling-vessel too; he has purified the streams and he has polluted us." besides this ecclesiastical purification there are various christian precautions against the _kallikantzaroi_--_e.g._, to mark the house-door with a black cross on christmas eve, the burning of incense and the invocation of the trinity--and a number of other means of aversion: the lighting of the yule log, the burning of something that smells strong, and--perhaps as a peace-offering--the hanging of pork-bones, sweetmeats, or sausages in the chimney. just as men are sometimes believed to become vampires temporarily during their lifetime, so, according to one stream of tradition, do living men become _kallikantzaroi_. in greece children born at christmas are thought likely to have this objectionable characteristic as a punishment for their mothers' sin in bearing them at a time sacred to the mother of god. in macedonia{ } people who have a "light" guardian angel undergo the hideous transformation. many attempts have been made to account for the _kallikantzaroi_. perhaps the most plausible explanation of the outward form, at least, of the uncanny creatures, is the theory connecting them with the masquerades that formed part of the winter festival of dionysus and are still to be found in greece at christmastide. the hideous bestial shapes, the noise and riot, may well have seemed demoniacal to simple people slightly "elevated," perhaps, by christmas feasting, while the human nature of the maskers was not altogether forgotten.{ } another theory of an even more prosaic character has been propounded--"that the kallikantzaroi are nothing more than established nightmares, limited like indigestion to the twelve days of feasting. this view is | | taken by allatius, who says that a kallikantzaros has all the characteristics of nightmare, rampaging abroad and jumping on men's shoulders, then leaving them half senseless on the ground."{ } such theories are ingenious and suggestive, and may be true to a certain degree, but they hardly cover all the facts. it is possible that the _kallikantzaroi_ may have some connection with the departed; they certainly appear akin to the modern greek and slavonic vampire, "a corpse imbued with a kind of half-life," and with eyes gleaming like live coals.{ } they are, however, even more closely related to the werewolf, a man who is supposed to change into a wolf and go about ravening. it is to be noted that "man-wolves" ([greek: lykanthrôpoi]) is the very name given to the _kallikantzaroi_ in southern greece, and that the word _kallikantzaros_ itself has been conjecturally derived by bernhard schmidt from two turkish words meaning "black" and "werewolf."{ } the connection between christmas and werewolves is not confined to greece. according to a belief not yet extinct in the north and east of germany, even where the real animals have long ago been extirpated, children born during the twelve nights become werewolves, while in livonia and poland that period is the special season for the werewolf's ravenings.{ } perhaps on no question connected with primitive religion is there more uncertainty than on the ideas of early man about the nature of animals and their relation to himself and the world. when we meet with half-animal, half-human beings we must be prepared to find much that is obscure. with the _kallikantzaroi_ may be compared some goblins of the celtic imagination; especially like is the manx _fynnodderee_ (lit. "the hairy-dun one"), "something between a man and a beast, being covered with black shaggy hair and having fiery eyes," and prodigiously strong.{ } the russian _domovy_ or house-spirit is also a hirsute creature,{ } and the russian _ljeschi_, goat-footed woodland sprites, are, like the _kallikantzaroi_, supposed to be got rid of by the "blessing of the waters" at the epiphany.{ } some of the monstrous german figures already dealt with here | | bear strong resemblances to the greek demons. and, of course, on greek ground one cannot help thinking of pan and the satyrs and centaurs.[ ] | | | | | | | | chapter x the yule log the log as centre of the domestic christmas--customs of the southern slavs--the _polaznik_--origin of the yule log--probable connection with vegetation-cults or ancestor-worship--the _souche de noël_ in france--italian and german christmas logs--english customs--the yule candle in england and scandinavia. the peoples of europe have various centres for their christmas rejoicing. in spain and italy the crib is often the focus of the festival in the home as well as the church. in england--after the old tradition--, in rural france, and among the southern slavs, the centre is the great log solemnly brought in and kindled on the hearth, while in germany, one need hardly say, the light-laden tree is the supreme symbol of christmas. the crib has already been treated in our first part, the yule log and the christmas-tree will be considered in this chapter and the next. the log placed on the fire on the vigil of the nativity no longer forms an important part of the english christmas. yet within the memory of many it was a very essential element in the celebration of the festival, not merely as giving out welcome warmth in the midwinter cold, but as possessing occult, magical properties. in some remote corners of england it probably lingers yet. we shall return to the traditional english yule log after a study of some continental customs of the same kind. first, we may travel to a part of eastern europe where the log ceremonies are found in their most elaborate form. among the serbs and croats on christmas eve two or three young oaks are felled for every house, and, as twilight comes on, are brought in and laid on the fire. (sometimes there is one for each male | | member of the family, but one large log is the centre of the ritual.) the felling takes place in some districts before sunrise, corn being thrown upon the trees with the words, "good morning, christmas!" at risano and other places in lower dalmatia the women and girls wind red silk and gold wire round the oak trunks, and adorn them with leaves and flowers. while they are being carried into the house lighted tapers are held on either side of the door. as the house-father crosses the threshold in the twilight with the first log, corn--or in some places wine--is thrown over him by one of the family. the log or _badnjak_ is then placed on the fire. at ragusa the house-father sprinkles corn and wine upon the _badnjak_, saying, as the flame shoots up, "goodly be thy birth!" in the mountains above risano he not only pours corn and wine but afterwards takes a bowl of corn, an orange, and a ploughshare, and places them on the upper end of the log in order that the corn may grow well and the beasts be healthy during the year. in montenegro, instead of throwing corn, he more usually breaks a piece of unleavened bread, places it upon the log, and pours over it a libation of wine.{ } the first visit on christmas day is considered important--we may compare this with "first-footing" in the british isles on january --and in order that the right sort of person may come, some one is specially chosen to be the so-called _polaznik_. no outsider but this _polaznik_ may enter a house on christmas day, where the rites are strictly observed. he appears in the early morning, carries corn in his glove and shakes it out before the threshold with the words, "christ is born," whereupon some member of the household sprinkles him with corn in return, answering, "he is born indeed." afterwards the _polaznik_ goes to the fire and makes sparks fly from the remains of the _badnjak_, at the same time uttering a wish for the good luck of the house-father and his household and farm. money and sometimes an orange are then placed on the _badnjak_. it is not allowed to burn quite away; the last remains of the fire are extinguished and the embers are laid between the branches of young fruit-trees to promote their growth.{ } how shall we interpret these practices? mannhardt regards the log as an embodiment of the vegetation-spirit, and its burning | | as an efficacious symbol of sunshine, meant to secure the genial vitalizing influence of the sun during the coming year.{ } it is, however, possible to connect it with a different circle of ideas and to see in its burning the solemn annual rekindling of the sacred hearth-fire, the centre of the family life and the dwelling-place of the ancestors. primitive peoples in many parts of the world are accustomed to associate fire with human generation,{ } and it is a general belief among aryan and other peoples that ancestral spirits have their seat in the hearth. in russia, for instance, "in the nijegorod government it is still forbidden to break up the smouldering faggots in a stove, because to do so might cause the ancestors to fall through into hell. and when a russian family moves from one house to another, the fire is conveyed to the new one, where it is received with the words, 'welcome, grandfather, to the new home!'"{ } sir arthur evans in three articles in _macmillan's magazine_ for { } gave a minute account of the christmas customs of the serbian highlanders above risano, who practise the log-rites with elaborate ceremonial, and explained them as connected in one way or other with ancestor-worship, though the people themselves attach a christian meaning to many of them. he pointed to the following facts as showing that the serbian christmas is at bottom a feast of the dead:--( ) it is said on christmas eve, "to-night earth is blended with paradise" [_raj_, the abode of the dead among the heathen slavs]. ( ) there is talk of unchristened folk beneath the threshold wailing "for a wax-light and offerings to be brought them; when that is done they lie still enough"--here there may be a modified survival of the idea that ancestral spirits dwell beneath the doorway. ( ) the food must on no account be cleared away after the christmas meal, but is left for three days, apparently for the house-spirits. ( ) blessings are invoked upon the "absent ones," which seems to mean the departed, and ( ) a toast is drunk and a bread-cake broken in memory of "the patron namegiver of all house-fathers," ostensibly christ but perhaps originally the founder of the family. some of these customs resemble those we have noted on all souls' eve and--in scandinavia--on christmas eve; other parallels we shall meet | | with later. among the slav races the old organization of the family under an elective house-elder and holding things in common has been faithfully preserved, and we might expect to find among the remote serbian highlanders specially clear traces of the old religion of the hearth. one remarkable point noted by sir arthur evans was that in the crivoscian cottage where he stayed the fire-irons, the table, and the stools were removed to an obscure corner before the logs were brought in and the christmas rites began--an indication apparently of the extreme antiquity of the celebration, as dating from a time when such implements were unknown.{ } if we take the view that ancestral spirits are the centre of the _badnjak_ observances, we may regard the libations upon the fire as intended for their benefit. on the sun and vegetation hypothesis, however, the libations would be meant to secure, by homoeopathic magic, that sunshine should alternate with the rain necessary for the welfare of plants.[ ]{ } the fertilizing powers possessed by the sparks and ashes of the christmas log appear frequently in folk-lore, and may be explained either by the connection of fire with human generation already noted, or, on the other theory, by the burning log being a sort of sacrament of sunshine. it is not perhaps necessary to exclude the idea of the log's connection with the vegetation-spirit even on the ancestral cult hypothesis, for the tree which furnished the fuel may have been regarded as the source of the life of the race.{ } the serbian rites certainly suggest very strongly some sort of veneration for the log itself as well as for the fire that it feeds. * * * * * we may now return to western europe. in france the christmas log or _souche de noël_ is common in the less modernized places, particularly in the south. in dauphiné it is called _chalendal_, | | in provence _calignaou_ (from _kalendae_, of course) or _tréfoir_, in orne _tréfouet_. on christmas eve in provence the whole family goes solemnly out to bring in the log. a carol meanwhile is sung praying for blessings on the house, that the women may bear children, the nanny-goats kids, and the ewes lambs, that corn and flour may abound, and the cask be full of wine. then the youngest child in the family pours wine on the log in the name of the father, son, and holy ghost. the log is then thrown upon the fire, and the charcoal is kept all the year and used as a remedy for various ills.{ } another account is given in his memoirs by frédéric mistral, the provençal poet. on christmas eve everyone, he says, speaking of his boyhood, sallied forth to fetch the yule log, which had to be cut from a fruit-tree:-- "walking in line we bore it home, headed by the oldest at one end, and i, the last born, bringing up the rear. three times we made the tour of the kitchen, then, arrived at the flagstones of the hearth, my father solemnly poured over the log a glass of wine, with the dedicatory words: 'joy, joy. may god shower joy upon us, my dear children. christmas brings us all good things. god give us grace to see the new year, and if we do not increase in numbers may we at all events not decrease.' in chorus we responded: 'joy, joy, joy!' and lifted the log on the fire dogs. then as the first flame leapt up my father would cross himself, saying, 'burn the log, o fire,' and with that we all sat down to the table."{ } in some places the _tréfoir_ or _tison de noël_ is burnt every evening during the thirteen nights. if put under the bed its charcoal protects the house all the year round from lightning; contact with it preserves people from chilblains and animals from various diseases; mixed with fodder it makes cows calve; its brands thrown into the soil keep the corn healthy. in périgord the portion which has not been burnt is used to form part of a plough, and is believed to make the seed prosper; women also keep some fragments until epiphany that their poultry may thrive.{ } in | | brittany the _tison_ is a protection against lightning and its ashes are put in wells to keep the water good.{ } in northern italy also the _ceppo_ or log is (or was) known--the piedmontese call it _suc_--and in tuscany christmas is called after it _festa di ceppo_. in the val di chiana on christmas eve the family gathers, a great log is set on the fire, the children are blindfolded and have to beat it with tongs, and an _ave maria del ceppo_ is sung.{ } under the name in lombardy of _zocco_, in tuscany of _ciocco_, _di natale_, the yule log was in olden times common in italian cities; the custom can there be traced back to the eleventh century. a little book probably printed in milan at the end of the fifteenth century gives minute particulars of the ritual observed, and we learn that on christmas eve the father, or the head of the household, used to call all the family together and with great devotion, in the name of the holy trinity, take the log and place it on the fire. juniper was put under it, and on the top money was placed, afterwards to be given to the servants. wine in abundance was poured three times on the fire when the head of the house had drunk and given drink to all present. it was an old italian custom to preserve the ashes of the _zocco_ as a protection against hail. a modern superstition is to keep some splinters of the wood and burn them in the fires made for the benefit of silkworms; so burnt, they are supposed to keep ills away from the creatures.{ } in many parts of germany yule log customs can be traced. in hesse and westphalia, for instance, it was the custom on christmas eve or day to lay a large block of wood on the fire and, as soon as it was charred a little, to take it off and preserve it. when a storm threatened, it was kindled again as a protection against lightning. it was called the _christbrand_.{ } in thuringia a _christklotz_ (christ log) is put on the fire before people go to bed, so that it may burn all through the night. its remains are kept to protect the house from fire and ill-luck. in parts of thuringia and in mecklenburg, pomerania, east prussia, saxony, and bohemia, the fire is kept up all night on christmas or new year's eve, and the ashes are used to rid cattle of vermin and protect plants and fruit-trees from insects, while in the country between the sieg | | and lahn the powdered ashes of an oaken log are strewn during the thirteen nights on the fields, to increase their fertility.{ } in sweden, too, some form of yule log was known,{ } and in greece, as we have seen, the burning of a log is still supposed to be a protection against _kallikantzaroi_. as for the english customs, they can hardly be better introduced than in herrick's words:-- "come, bring, with a noise, my merry, merry boys, the christmas log to the firing: while my good dame she bids ye all be free, and drink to your hearts' desiring. with the last year's brand light the new block, and for good success in his spending, on your psaltries play, that sweet luck may come while the log is a-teending."[ ]{ } we may note especially that the block must be kindled with last year's brand; here there is a distinct suggestion that the lighting of the log at christmas is a shrunken remnant of the keeping up of a perpetual fire, the continuity being to some extent preserved by the use of a brand from last year's blaze. another tradition and its origin are thus described by sir laurence gomme:-- "from there being an ever-burning fire, it has come to be that the fire must not be allowed to be extinguished on the last day of the old year, so that the old year's fire may last into the new year. in lanarkshire it is considered unlucky to give out a light to any one on the morning of the new year, and therefore if the house-fire has been allowed to become extinguished recourse must be had to the embers of | | the village pile [for on new year's eve a great public bonfire is made]. in some places the self-extinction of the yule-log at christmas is portentous of evil."{ } in the north of england in the days of tinder-boxes, if any one could not get a light it was useless to ask a neighbour for one, so frightfully unlucky was it to allow any light to leave the house between christmas eve and new year's day.{ } the idea of the unluckiness of giving out fire at the kalends of january can be traced back to the eighth century when, as we saw in chapter vi., st. boniface alluded to this superstition among the people or rome. in shropshire the idea is extended even to ashes, which must not be thrown out of the house on christmas day, "for fear of throwing them in our saviour's face." perhaps such superstitions may originally have had to do with dread that the "luck" of the family, the household spirit, might be carried away with the gift of fire from the hearth.{ } when miss burne wrote in the eighties there were still many west shropshire people who could remember seeing the "christmas brand" drawn by horses to the farmhouse door, and placed at the back of the wide open hearth, where the flame was made up in front of it. "the embers," says one informant, "were raked up to it every night, and it was carefully tended that it might not go out during the whole season, during which time no light might either be struck, given, or borrowed." at cleobury mortimer in the south-east of the county the silence of the curfew bell during "the christmas" points to a time when fires might not be extinguished during that season.{ } the place of the yule log in devonshire is taken by the "ashen [sometimes "ashton"] faggot," still burnt in many a farm on christmas eve. the sticks of ash are fastened together by ashen bands, and the traditional custom is for a quart of cider to be called for and served to the merrymaking company, as each band bursts in the flames.{ } in england the yule log was often supplemented or replaced | | by a great candle. at ripon in the eighteenth century the chandlers sent their customers large candles on christmas eve, and the coopers, logs of wood.{ } hampson, writing in , says:-- "in some places candles are made of a particular kind, because the candle that is lighted on christmas day must be so large as to burn from the time of its ignition to the close of the day, otherwise it will portend evil to the family for the ensuing year. the poor were wont to present the rich with wax tapers, and yule candles are still in the north of scotland given by merchants to their customers. at one time children at the village schools in lancashire were required to bring each a mould candle before the _parting_ or separation for the christmas holidays."[ ]{ } in the scandinavian countries the yule candle is, or was, very prominent indeed. in west jutland (denmark) two great tallow candles stood on the festive board. no one dared to touch or extinguish them, and if by any mischance one went out it was a portent of death. they stood for the husband and wife, and that one of the wedded pair whose candle burnt the longer would outlive the other.{ } in norway also two lights were placed on the table.{ } all over the scandinavian lands the yule candle had to burn throughout the night; it was not to be extinguished till the sun rose or--as was said elsewhere--till the beginning of service on christmas day. sometimes the putting-out had to be done by the oldest member of the family or the father of the household. in norway the candle was lighted every evening until new year's day. while it foreshadowed death if it went out, so long as it duly burned it shed a blessing with its light, and, in order to secure abundance of good things, money, clothes, food, and drink were spread out that its rays might fall upon them. the remains of the candle were used in various ways to benefit man and beast. sometimes a cross was branded with them upon the animals on christmas morning; in sweden the plough was smeared with | | the tallow, when used for the first time in spring. or again the tallow was given to the fowls; and, lastly, in denmark the ends were preserved and burnt in thundery weather to protect the house from lightning.{ } there is an analogy here with the use of the christmas log, and also of the candles of the purification (see chapter xvi.). | | | | | | chapter xi the christmas-tree, decorations, and gifts the christmas-tree a german creation--charm of the german christmas--early christmas-trees--the christmas pyramid--spread of the tree in modern germany and other countries--origin of the christmas-tree--beliefs about flowering trees at christmas--evergreens at the kalends--non-german parallels to the christmas-tree--christmas decorations connected with ancient kalends customs--sacredness of holly and mistletoe--floors strewn with straw--christmas and new year gifts, their connection with the roman _strenae_ and st. nicholas--present-giving in various countries--christmas cards. [illustration: the german christmas-tree in the eighteenth century. from an engraving by joseph kellner.] the christmas-tree. the most widespread, and to children the most delightful, of all festal institutions is the christmas-tree. its picturesqueness and gay charm have made it spread rapidly all over europe without roots in national tradition, for, as most people know, it is a german creation, and even in germany it attained its present immense popularity only in the nineteenth century. to germany, of course, one should go to see the tree in all its glory. many people, indeed, maintain that no other christmas can compare with the german _weihnacht_. "it is," writes miss i. a. r. wylie, "that childish, open-hearted simplicity which, so it seems to me, makes christmas essentially german, or at any rate explains why it is that nowhere else in the world does it find so pure an expression. the german is himself simple, warm-hearted, unpretentious, with something at the bottom of him which is childlike in the best sense. he is the last 'naturmensch' in civilization." christmas suits him "as well as a play suits an actor for whose character and temperament it has been especially written."{ } | | in germany the christmas-tree is not a luxury for well-to-do people as in england, but a necessity, the very centre of the festival; no one is too poor or too lonely to have one. there is something about a german _weihnachtsbaum_--a romance and a wonder--that english christmas-trees do not possess. for one thing, perhaps, in a land of forests the tree seems more in place; it is a kind of sacrament linking mankind to the mysteries of the woodland. again the german tree is simply a thing of beauty and radiance; no utilitarian presents hang from its boughs--they are laid apart on a table--and the tree is purely splendour for splendour's sake. however tawdry it may look by day, at night it is a true thing of wonder, shining with countless lights and glittering ornaments, with fruit of gold and shimmering festoons of silver. then there is the solemnity with which it is surrounded; the long secret preparations behind the closed doors, and, when christmas eve arrives, the sudden revelation of hidden glory. the germans have quite a religious feeling for their _weihnachtsbaum_, coming down, one may fancy, from some dim ancestral worship of the trees of the wood. as christmas draws near the market-place in a german town is filled with a miniature forest of firs; the trees are sold by old women in quaint costumes, and the shop-windows are full of candles and ornaments to deck them. mrs. alfred sidgwick in her "home life in germany" gives a delightful picture of such a christmas market in "one of the old german cities in the hill country, when the streets and the open places are covered with crisp clean snow, and the mountains are white with it.... the air is cold and still, and heavy with the scent of the christmas-trees brought from the forest for the pleasure of the children. day by day you see the rows of them growing thinner, and if you go to the market on christmas eve itself you will find only a few trees left out in the cold. the market is empty, the peasants are harnessing their horses or their oxen, the women are packing up their unsold goods. in every home in the city one of the trees that scented the open air a week ago is shining now with lights and little gilded nuts and apples, and is helping to make that christmas smell, all compact of the pine forest, wax | | candles, cakes and painted toys, you must associate so long as you live with christmas in germany."{ } even in london one may get a glimpse of the teutonic christmas in the half-german streets round fitzroy square. they are bald and drab enough, but at christmas here and there a window shines with a lighted tree, and the very prosaic lutheran church in cleveland street has an unwonted sight to show--two great fir-trees decked with white candles, standing one on each side of the pulpit. the church of the german catholics, too, st. boniface's, whitechapel, has in its sanctuary two christmas-trees strangely gay with coloured glistening balls and long strands of gold and silver _engelshaar_. the candles are lit at benediction during the festival, and between the shining trees the solemn ritual is performed by the priest and a crowd of serving boys in scarlet and white with tapers and incense. * * * * * there is a pretty story about the institution of the _weihnachtsbaum_ by martin luther: how, after wandering one christmas eve under the clear winter sky lit by a thousand stars, he set up for his children a tree with countless candles, an image of the starry heaven whence christ came down. this, however, belongs to the region of legend; the first historical mention of the christmas-tree is found in the notes of a certain strasburg citizen of unknown name, written in the year . "at christmas," he writes, "they set up fir-trees in the parlours at strasburg and hang thereon roses cut out of many-coloured paper, apples, wafers, gold-foil, sweets, &c."{ } we next meet with the tree in a hostile allusion by a distinguished strasburg theologian, dr. johann konrad dannhauer, professor and preacher at the cathedral. in his book, "the milk of the catechism," published about the middle of the seventeenth century, he speaks of "the christmas- or fir-tree, which people set up in their houses, hang with dolls and sweets, and afterwards shake and deflower." "whence comes the custom," he says, "i know not; it is child's play.... far better were it to point the children to the spiritual cedar-tree, jesus christ."{ } in neither of these references is there any mention of candles--the | | most fascinating feature of the modern tree. these appear, however, in a latin work on christmas presents by karl gottfried kissling of the university of wittenberg, written in . he tells how a certain country lady of his acquaintance set up a little tree for each of her sons and daughters, lit candles on or around the trees, laid out presents beneath them, and called her children one by one into the room to take the trees and gifts intended for them.{ } with the advance of the eighteenth-century notices of the _weihnachtsbaum_ become more frequent: jung stilling, goethe, schiller, and others mention it, and about the end of the century its use seems to have been fairly general in germany.{ } in many places, however, it was not common till well on in the eighteen hundreds: it was a protestant rather than a catholic institution, and it made its way but slowly in regions where the older faith was held.{ } well-to-do townspeople welcomed it first, and the peasantry were slow to adopt it. in old bavaria, for instance, in it was quite unknown in country places, and even to-day it is not very common there, except in the towns.{ } "it is more in vogue on the whole," wrote dr. tille in , "in the protestant north than in the catholic south,"{ } but its popularity was rapidly growing at that time. a common substitute for the christmas-tree in saxony during the nineteenth century, and one still found in country places, was the so-called "pyramid," a wooden erection adorned with many-coloured paper and with lights. these pyramids were very popular among the smaller _bourgeoisie_ and artisans, and were kept from one christmas to another.{ } in berlin, too, the pyramid was once very common. it was there adorned with green twigs as well as with candles and coloured paper, and had more resemblance to the christmas-tree.{ } tieck refers to it in his story, "weihnacht-abend" ( ).{ } pyramids, without lights apparently, were known in england before . in hertfordshire they were formed of gilt evergreens, apples, and nuts, and were carried about just before christmas for presents. in herefordshire they were known at the new year.{ } | | the christmas-tree was introduced into france in , when princess helene of mecklenburg brought it to paris. in between thirty and thirty-five thousand of the trees are said to have been sold in paris.{ } in england it is alluded to in ,{ } but its use did not become at all general until about the eighteen-forties. in queen victoria and prince albert had a christmas-tree, and the fashion spread until it became completely naturalized.{ } in denmark and norway it was known in , and in sweden in (among the swedish population on the coast of finland it seems to have been in use in ).{ } in bohemia it is mentioned in .{ } it is also found in russia, the united states, spain, italy, and holland,{ } and of course in switzerland and austria, so largely german in language and customs. in non-german countries it is rather a thing for the well-to-do classes than for the masses of the people. the christmas-tree is essentially a domestic institution. it has, however, found its way into protestant churches in germany and from them into catholic churches. even the swiss zwinglians, with all their puritanism, do not exclude it from their bare, white-washed fanes. in the münsterthal, for instance, a valley of romonsch speech, off the lower engadine, a tree decked with candles, festoons, presents, and serpent-squibs, stands in church at christmas, and it is difficult for the minister to conduct service, for all the time, except during the prayers, the people are letting off fireworks. on one day between christmas eve and new year there is a great present-giving in church.{ } in munich, and doubtless elsewhere, the tree appears not only in the church and in the home, but in the cemetery. the graves of the dead are decked on christmas eve with holly and mistletoe and a little christmas-tree with gleaming lights, a touching token of remembrance, an attempt, perhaps, to give the departed a share in the brightness of the festival.{ } * * * * * the question of the origin of christmas-trees is of great interest. though their affinity to other sacraments of the | | vegetation-spirit is evident, it is difficult to be certain of their exact ancestry. dr. tille regards them as coming from a union of two elements: the old roman custom of decking houses with laurels and green trees at the kalends of january, and the popular belief that every christmas eve apple and other trees blossomed and bore fruit.{ } before the advent of the christmas-tree proper--a fir with lights and ornaments often imitating and always suggesting flowers and fruit--it was customary to put trees like cherry or hawthorn into water or into pots indoors, so that they might bud and blossom at new year or christmas.{ } even to-day the practice of picking boughs in order that they may blossom at christmas is to be found in some parts of austria. in carinthia girls on st. lucia's day (december ) stick a cherry-branch into wet sand; if it blooms at christmas their wishes will be fulfilled. in other parts the branches--pear as well as cherry--are picked on st. barbara's day (december ), and in south tyrol cherry-trees are manured with lime on the first thursday in advent so that they may blossom at christmas.{ } the custom may have had to do with legendary lore about the marvellous transformation of nature on the night of christ's birth, when the rivers ran wine instead of water and trees stood in full blossom in spite of ice and snow.{ } in england there was an old belief in trees blossoming at christmas, connected with the well-known legend of st. joseph of arimathea. when the saint settled at glastonbury he planted his staff in the earth and it put forth leaves; moreover it blossomed every christmas eve. not only the original thorn at glastonbury but trees of the same species in other parts of england had this characteristic. when in the new style was substituted for the old, making christmas fall twelve days earlier, folks were curious to see what the thorns would do. at quainton in buckinghamshire two thousand people, it is said, went out on the new christmas eve to view a blackthorn which had the christmas blossoming habit. as no sign of buds was visible they agreed that the new christmas could not be right, and refused to keep it. at glastonbury itself nothing | | happened on december , but on january , the right day according to the old style, the thorn blossomed as usual.[ ]{ } let us turn to the customs of the roman empire which may be in part responsible for the german christmas-tree. the practice of adorning houses with evergreens at the january kalends was common throughout the empire, as we learn from libanius, tertullian, and chrysostom. a grim denunciation of such decorations and the lights which accompanied them may be quoted from tertullian; it makes a pregnant contrast of pagan and christian. "let them," he says of the heathen, "kindle lamps, they who have no light; let them fix on the doorposts laurels which shall afterwards be burnt, they for whom fire is close at hand; meet for them are testimonies of darkness and auguries of punishment. but thou," he says to the christian, "art a light of the world and a tree that is ever green; if thou hast renounced temples, make not a temple of thy own house-door."{ } that these new year practices of the empire had to do with the _weihnachtsbaum_ is very possible, but on the other hand it has closer parallels in certain folk-customs that in no way suggest roman or greek influence. not only at christmas are ceremonial "trees" to be found in germany. in the erzgebirge there is dancing at the summer solstice round "st. john's tree," a pyramid decked with garlands and flowers, and lit up at night by candles.{ } at midsummer "in the towns of the upper harz mountains tall fir-trees, with the bark peeled off their lower trunks, were set up in open places and decked with flowers and eggs, which were painted yellow and red. round these trees the young folk danced by day and the old folk in the evening";{ } while on dutch ground in gelderland and limburg at the beginning of may trees were adorned with lights.{ } nearer to christmas is a new year's custom found in some | | alsatian villages: the adorning of the fountain with a "may." the girls who visit the fountain procure a small fir-tree or holly-bush, and deck it with ribbons, egg-shells, and little figures representing a shepherd or a man beating his wife. this is set up above the fountain on new year's eve. on the evening of the next day the snow is carefully cleared away and the girls dance and sing around the fountain. the lads may only take part in the dance by permission of the girls. the tree is kept all through the year as a protection to those who have set it up.{ } in sweden, before the advent of the german type of tree, it was customary to place young pines, divested of bark and branches, outside the houses at christmastide.{ } an english parallel which does not suggest any borrowing from germany, was formerly to be found at brough in westmoreland on twelfth night. a holly-tree with torches attached to its branches was carried through the town in procession. it was finally thrown among the populace, who divided into two parties, one of which endeavoured to take the tree to one inn, and the other, to a rival hostelry.{ } we have here pretty plainly a struggle of two factions--perhaps of two quarters of a town that were once separate villages--for the possession of a sacred object.[ ] we may find parallels, lastly, in two remote corners of europe. in the island of chios--here we are on greek ground--tenants are wont to offer to their landlords on christmas morning a _rhamna_, a pole with wreaths of myrtle, olive, and orange leaves bound around it; "to these are fixed any flowers that may be found--geraniums, anemones, and the like, and, by way of further decoration, oranges, lemons, and strips of gold and coloured paper."[ ]{ } secondly, among the circassians in the early half of the nineteenth century, a young pear-tree used to be carried into each house at an autumn festival, to the sound of music and joyous cries. it was covered with candles, and a cheese was fastened to its top. round about it they ate, drank, and sang. afterwards it was | | removed to the courtyard, where it remained for the rest of the year.{ } though there is no recorded instance of the use of a tree at christmas in germany before the seventeenth century, the _weihnachtsbaum_ may well be a descendant of some sacred tree carried about or set up at the beginning-of-winter festival. all things considered, it seems to belong to a class of primitive sacraments of which the example most familiar to english peoples is the may-pole. this is, of course, an early summer institution, but in france and germany a harvest may is also known--a large branch or a whole tree, which is decked with ears of corn, brought home on the last waggon from the harvest field, and fastened to the roof of farmhouse or barn, where it remains for a year.{ } mannhardt has shown that such sacraments embody the tree-spirit conceived as the spirit of vegetation in general, and are believed to convey its life-giving, fructifying influences. probably the idea of contact with the spirit of growth lay also beneath the roman evergreen decorations, so that whether or not we connect the christmas-tree with these, the principle at the bottom is the same. certain christian ideas, finally, besides that of trees blossoming on the night of the nativity, may have affected the fortunes of the christmas-tree. december was in old church calendars the day of adam and eve, the idea being that christ the second adam had repaired by his incarnation the loss caused by the sin of the first. a legend grew up that adam when he left paradise took with him an apple or sprout from the tree of knowledge, and that from this sprang the tree from which the cross was made. or it was said that on adam's grave grew a sprig from the tree of life, and that from it christ plucked the fruit of redemption. the cross in early christian poetry was conceived as the tree of life planted anew, bearing the glorious fruit of christ's body, and repairing the mischief wrought by the misuse of the first tree. we may recall a verse from the "pange, lingua" of passiontide:-- "faithful cross! above all other, one and only noble tree! | | none in foliage, none in blossom, none in fruit thy peer may be: sweetest wood and sweetest iron! sweetest weight is hung on thee." in the religious christmas plays the tree of paradise was sometimes shown to the people. at oberufer, for instance, it was a fine juniper-tree, adorned with apples and ribbons. sometimes christ himself was regarded as the tree of paradise.{ } the thought of him as both the light of the world and the tree of life may at least have given a christian meaning to the light-bearing tree, and helped to establish its popularity among pious folk. christmas decorations. we have seen that the christmas-tree may be a development, partly at least, from the custom of decorating buildings with evergreens at the new year, and that such decorations were common throughout the roman empire.[ ] some further consideration may now be given to the subject of christmas decorations in various lands. in winter, when all is brown and dead, the evergreens are manifestations of the abiding life within the plant-world, and they may well have been used as sacramental means of contact with the spirit of growth and fertility, threatened by the powers of blight. particularly precious would be plants like the holly, the ivy, and the mistletoe, which actually bore fruit in the winter-time.{ } in spite of ecclesiastical condemnations of kalends decorations--as late as the sixth century the _capitula_ of bishop martin of braga forbid the adorning of houses with laurels and green trees{ }--the custom has found its way even into churches, and nowhere more than in england. at least as far back as the fifteenth century, according to stow's "survay of london," it was the custom at christmas for "every man's house, as also the parish churches," to be "decked with holm, ivy, bays, and whatsoever the season of the year afforded to be green. the conduits and | | standards in the streets were likewise garnished."{ } many people of the last generation will remember the old english mode of decoration--how sprigs of holly and yew, stuck into holes in the high pews, used to make the churches into miniature forests. only upon the mistletoe does a trace of the ecclesiastical taboo remain, and even that is not universal, for at york minster, for instance, some was laid upon the altar.{ } english popular custom has connected particular plants with the winter festival in a peculiarly delightful way; at the mere mention of holly or mistletoe the picture of christmas with its country charm rises to the mind--we think of snowy fields and distant bells, of warm hearths and kindly merrymaking. it is no wonder that the mistletoe has a special place in christmas decorations, for it is associated with both teutonic myth and celtic ritual. it was with mistletoe that the beloved balder was shot, and the plant played an important part in a druidic ceremony described by pliny. a white-robed druid climbed a sacred oak and cut the mistletoe with a golden sickle. as it fell it was caught in a white cloth, and two white bulls were then sacrificed, with prayer. the mistletoe was called "all-healer" and was believed to be a remedy against poison and to make barren animals fruitful.{ } the significance of the ritual is not easy to find. pliny's account, dr. macculloch has suggested, may be incomplete, and the cutting of the mistletoe may have been a preliminary to some other ceremony--perhaps the felling of the tree on which it grew, whose soul was supposed to be in it, or perhaps the slaying of a representative of the tree-spirit; while the white oxen of pliny's time may have replaced a human victim.{ } it is interesting to find that the name "all-healer" is still given to the mistletoe in celtic speech,[ ]{ } and that in various european countries it is believed to possess marvellous powers of healing sickness or averting misfortune.{ } | | it is hard to say exactly what is the origin of the english "kissing under the mistletoe," but the practice would appear to be due to an imagined relation between the love of the sexes and the spirit of fertility embodied in the sacred bough, and it may be a vestige of the licence often permitted at folk-festivals. according to one form of the english custom the young men plucked, each time they kissed a girl, a berry from the bough. when the berries were all picked, the privilege ceased.{ } sometimes a curious form, reminding one both of the german christmas-tree and of the _krippe_, is taken by the "kissing bunch." here is an account from derbyshire:-- "the 'kissing bunch' is always an elaborate affair. the size depends upon the couple of hoops--one thrust through the other--which form its skeleton. each of the ribs is garlanded with holly, ivy, and sprigs of other greens, with bits of coloured ribbons and paper roses, rosy-cheeked apples, specially reserved for this occasion, and oranges. three small dolls are also prepared, often with much taste, and these represent our saviour, the mother of jesus, and joseph. these dolls generally hang within the kissing bunch by strings from the top, and are surrounded by apples, oranges tied to strings, and various brightly coloured ornaments. occasionally, however, the dolls are arranged in the kissing bunch to represent a manger-scene.... mistletoe is not very plentiful in derbyshire; but, generally, a bit is obtainable, and this is carefully tied to the bottom of the kissing bunch, which is then hung in the middle of the house-place, the centre of attention during christmastide."{ } kissing under the mistletoe seems to be distinctively english. there is, however, a new year's eve custom in lower austria and the rhaetian alps that somewhat resembles our mistletoe bough practices. people linger late in the inns, the walls and windows of which are decorated with green pine-twigs. in the centre of the inn-parlour hangs from a roof-beam a wreath of the same greenery, and in a dark corner hides a masked figure known as "sylvester," old and ugly, with a flaxen beard and _a wreath of mistletoe_. if a youth or maiden happens to pass under the pine wreath sylvester springs out and imprints a rough kiss. when midnight comes he is driven out as the representative of the old year.{ } | | there are traces in britain of the sacredness of holly as well as mistletoe. in northumberland it is used for divination: nine leaves are taken and tied with nine knots into a handkerchief, and put under the pillow by a person who desires prophetic dreams.{ } for this purpose smooth leaves (without prickles) must be employed, and it is to be noted that at burford in shropshire smooth holly only was used for the christmas decorations.{ } holly is hated by witches,{ } but perhaps this may be due not to any pre-christian sanctity attached to it but to the association of its thorns and blood-red berries with the passion--an association to which it owes its danish name, _kristdorn_. in some old english christmas carols holly and ivy are put into a curious antagonism, apparently connected with a contest of the sexes. holly is the men's plant, ivy the women's, and the carols are debates as to the respective merits of each. possibly some sort of rude drama may once have been performed.{ } here is a fifteenth-century example of these carols:-- "holly and ivy made a great party, who should have the mastery, in landës where they go. then spoke holly, 'i am free and jolly, i will have the mastery, in landës where we go.' then spake ivy, 'i am lov'd and prov'd, and i will have the mastery, in landës where we go.' then spake holly, and set him down on his knee, 'i pray thee, gentle ivy, say me no villainy, in landës where we go.'"{ } the sanctity of christmas house-decorations in england is shown by the care taken in disposing of them when removed from the walls. in shropshire old-fashioned people never threw them away, for fear of misfortune, but either burnt them or gave them to the cows; it was very unlucky to let a piece | | fall to the ground. the shropshire custom was to leave the holly and ivy up until candlemas, while the mistletoe-bough was carefully preserved until the time came for a new one next year. west shropshire tradition, by the way, connects the mistletoe with the new year rather than with christmas; the bough ought not to be put up until new year's eve.{ } in sweden green boughs, apparently, are not used for decoration, but the floor of the parlour is strewn with sprigs of fragrant juniper or spruce-pine, or with rye-straw.{ } the straw was probably intended originally to bring to the house, by means of sacramental contact, the wholesome influences of the corn-spirit, though the common people connect it with the stable at bethlehem. the practice of laying straw and the same christian explanation are found also in poland{ } and in crivoscia.{ } in poland before the cloth is laid on christmas eve, the table is covered with a layer of hay or straw, and a sheaf stands in the corner. years ago straw was also spread on the floor. sometimes it is given to the cattle as a charm and sometimes it is used to tie up fruit-trees.{ } dr. frazer conjectures that the swedish yule straw comes in part at least from the last sheaf at harvest, to which, as embodying the corn-spirit, a peculiar significance is attached. the swedish, like the polish, yule straw has sundry virtues; scattered on the ground it will make a barren field productive; and it is used to bind trees and make them fruitful.{ } again the peasant at christmas will sit on a log and throw up yule straws one by one to the roof; as many as lodge in the rafters, so many will be the sheaves of rye at harvest.{ } christmas and new year gifts. we have come across presents of various kinds at the pre-christmas festivals; now that we have reached christmastide itself we may dwell a little upon the festival as the great present-giving season of the year, and try to get at the origins of the custom. the roman _strenae_ offered to the emperor or exchanged between private citizens at the january kalends have already | | been noted. according to tradition they were originally merely branches plucked from the grove of the goddess strenia, and the purpose of these may well have been akin to that of the greenery used for decorations, viz., to secure contact with a vegetation-spirit. in the time of the empire, however, the _strenae_ were of a more attractive character, "men gave honeyed things, that the year of the recipient might be full of sweetness, lamps that it might be full of light, copper and silver and gold that wealth might flow in amain."{ } such presents were obviously a kind of charm for the new year, based on the principle that as the beginning was, so would the rest of the year be. with the adoption of the roman new year's day its present-giving customs appear to have spread far and wide. in france, where the latin spirit is still strong, january is even now the great day for presents, and they are actually called _étrennes_, a name obviously derived from _strenae_. in paris boxes of sweets are then given by bachelors to friends who have entertained them at their houses during the year--a survival perhaps of the "honeyed things" given in roman times. in many countries, however, present-giving is attached to the ecclesiastical festival of christmas. this is doubtless largely due to attraction from the roman new year's day to the feast hallowed by the church, but readers of the foregoing pages will have seen that christmas has also drawn to itself many practices of a november festival, and it is probable that german christmas presents, at least, are connected as much with the apples and nuts of st. martin and st. nicholas[ ] as with the roman _strenae_. it has already been pointed out that the german st. nicholas as present-giver appears to be a duplicate of st. martin, and that st. nicholas himself has often wandered from his own day to christmas, or has been replaced by the christ child. we have also noted the rod associated with the two saints, and seen reason for thinking that its original purpose was not disciplinary but health-giving. | | it is interesting to find that while, if we may trust tradition, the roman _strenae_ were originally twigs, christmas gifts in sixteenth-century germany showed a connection with the twigs or rods of st. martin and st. nicholas. the presents were tied together in a bundle, and a twig was added to them.{ } this was regarded by the pedagogic mind of the period not as a lucky twig but as a rod in the sinister sense. in some protestant sermons of the latter half of the century there are curious detailed references to christmas presents. these are supposed to be brought to children by the saviour himself, strangely called the _haus-christ_. among the gifts mentioned as contained in the "christ-bundles" are pleasant things like money, sugar-plums, cakes, apples, nuts, dolls; useful things like clothes; and also things "that belong to teaching, obedience, chastisement, and discipline, as a.b.c. tablets, bibles and handsome books, writing materials, paper, &c., _and the_ '_christ-rod_.'"{ } a common gift to german children at christmas or the new year was an apple with a coin in it; the coin may conceivably be a roman survival,{ } while the apple may be connected with those brought by st. nicholas. the christ child is still supposed to bring presents in germany; in france, too, it is sometimes _le petit jésus_ who bears the welcome gifts.{ } in italy we shall find that the great time for children's presents is epiphany eve, when the befana comes, though in the northern provinces santa lucia is sometimes a gift-bringer.{ } in sicily the days for gifts and the supposed bringers vary; sometimes, as we have already seen, it is the dead who bring them, on all souls' eve; sometimes it is _la vecchia di natali_--the christmas old woman--who comes with them on christmas eve; sometimes they are brought by the old woman strina--note the derivation from _strenae_--at the new year; sometimes by the befana at the epiphany.{ } a curious mode of giving presents on christmas eve belongs particularly to sweden, though it is also found--perhaps borrowed--in mecklenburg, pomerania, and other parts of germany. the so-called _julklapp_ is a gift wrapped up in innumerable coverings. the person who brings it raps noisily at | | the door, and throws or pushes the _julklapp_ into the room. it is essential that he should arrive quite unexpectedly, and come and go like lightning without revealing his identity. great efforts are made to conceal the gift so that the recipient after much trouble in undoing the covering may have to search and search again to find it. sometimes in sweden a thin gold ring is hidden away in a great heavy box, or a little gold heart is put in a christmas cake. occasionally a man contrives to hide in the _julklapp_ and thus offer himself as a christmas present to the lady whom he loves. the gift is often accompanied by some satirical rhyme, or takes a form intended to tease the recipient.{ } another custom, sometimes found in "better-class" swedish households, is for the christmas presents to be given by two masked figures, an old man and an old woman. the old man holds a bell in his hand and rings it, the old woman carries a basket full of sealed packets, which she delivers to the addressees.{ } there is nothing specially interesting in modern english modes of present-giving. we may, however, perhaps see in the custom of christmas boxes, inexorably demanded and not always willingly bestowed, a degeneration of what was once friendly entertainment given in return for the good wishes and the luck brought by wassailers. instances of gifts to calling neighbours have already come before our notice at several pre-christmas festivals, notably all souls', st. clement's, and st. thomas's. as for the name "christmas box," it would seem to have come from the receptacles used for the gifts. according to one account apprentices, journeymen, and servants used to carry about earthen boxes with a slit in them, and when the time for collecting was over, broke them to obtain the contents.{ } the christmas card, a sort of attenuated present, seems to be of quite modern origin. it is apparently a descendant of the "school pieces" or "christmas pieces" popular in england in the first half of the nineteenth century--sheets of writing-paper with designs in pen and ink or copper-plate headings. the first christmas card proper appears to have been issued in , but it was not till about that the custom of card-sending obtained any foothold.{ } | | [illustration: christmas morning in lower austria. _by ferdinand waldmûller (b. )._] | | | | | | chapter xii christmas feasting and sacrificial survivals prominence of eating in the english christmas--the boar's head, the goose, and other christmas fare--frumenty, sowens, yule cakes, and the wassail bowl--continental christmas dishes, their possible origins--french and german cakes--the animals' christmas feast--cakes in eastern europe--relics of animal sacrifice--hunting the wren--various games of sacrificial origin. feasting customs. in the mind of the average sensual englishman perhaps the most vivid images called up by the word christmas are those connected with eating and drinking. "ha più da fare che i forni di natale in inghilterra,"[ ] an italian proverb used of a very busy person, sufficiently suggests the character of our christmas.[ ] it may be that the christmas dinner looms larger among the english than among most other peoples, but in every country a distinctive meal of some kind is associated with the season. we have already seen how this illustrates the immemorial connection between material feasting and religious rejoicing. let us note some forms of "christmas fare" and try to get an idea of their origin. first we may look at english feasting customs, though, as they have been pretty fully described by | | previous writers, no very elaborate account of them need be given. the gross eating and drinking in former days at christmas, of which our present mild gluttony is but a pale reflection, would seem to be connected with the old november feast, though transferred to the season hallowed by christ's birth. the show of slaughtered beasts, adorned with green garlands, in an english town just before christmas, reminds one strongly of the old november killing. in displays of this kind the pig's head is specially conspicuous, and points to the time when the swine was a favourite sacrificial animal.{ } we may recall here the traditional carol sung at queen's college, oxford, as the boar's head is solemnly brought in at christmas, and found elsewhere in other forms:-- "the boar's head in hand bear i, bedeck'd with bays and rosemary; and i pray you, my masters, be merry, _quot estis in convivio._ _caput apri defero,_ _reddens laudes domino._"{ } the christmas bird provided by the familiar "goose club" may be compared with the german martinmas goose. the more luxurious turkey must be relatively an innovation, for that bird seems not to have been introduced into england until the sixteenth century.{ } cakes and pies, partly or wholly of vegetable origin, are, of course, as conspicuous at the english christmas as animal food. the peculiar "luckiness" attached to some of them (as when mince-pies, eaten in different houses during the twelve days, bring a happy month each) makes one suspect some more serious original purpose than mere gratification of the appetite. a sacrificial or sacramental origin is probable, at least in certain cases; a cake made of flour, for instance, may well have been regarded as embodying the spirit immanent in the corn.{ } whether any mystic significance ever belonged to the plum-pudding it is hard to say, though the sprig of holly stuck into its | | top recalls the lucky green boughs we have so often come across, and a resemblance to the libations upon the christmas log might be seen in the burning brandy. a dish once prominent at christmas was "frumenty" or "furmety" (variously spelt, and derived from the latin _frumentum_, corn). it was made of hulled wheat boiled in milk and seasoned with cinnamon, sugar, &c.{ } this too may have been a cereal sacrament. in yorkshire it was the first thing eaten on christmas morning, just as ale posset was the last thing drunk on christmas eve. ale posset was a mixture of beer and milk, and each member of the family in turn had to take a "sup," as also a piece of a large apple-pie.{ } in the highlands of scotland, among those who observed christmas, a characteristic dish was new sowens (the husks and siftings of oatmeal), given to the family early on christmas day in their beds. they were boiled into the consistence of molasses and were poured into as many bickers as there were people to partake of them. everyone on despatching his bicker jumped out of bed.{ } here, as in the case of the yorkshire frumenty, the eating has a distinctly ceremonial character. in the east riding of yorkshire a special yule cake was eaten on christmas eve, "made of flour, barm, large cooking raisins, currants, lemon-peel, and nutmeg," and about as large as a dinner-plate.{ } in shropshire "wigs" or caraway buns dipped in ale were eaten on christmas eve.{ } again elsewhere there were yule doughs or dows, little images of paste, presented by bakers to their customers.{ } we shall see plenty of parallels to these on the continent. when they are in animal or even human form they may in some cases have taken the place of actual sacrificial victims.{ } in nottinghamshire the christmas cake was associated with the wassail-bowl in a manner which may be compared with the macedonian custom described later; it was broken up and put into the bowl, hot ale was poured over it, and so it was eaten.{ } the wassail-bowl--one cannot leave the subject of english yuletide feasting without a few words upon this beloved beaker of hot spiced ale and toasted apples ("lambswool"). _wassail_ is | | derived from the anglo-saxon _wes hál_ = be whole, and wassailing is in its essence the wishing of a person's very good health. the origin of drinking healths is not obvious; perhaps it may be sacramental: the draught may have been at first a means of communion with some divinity, and then its consumption may have come to be regarded not only as benefiting the partaker, but as a rite that could be performed for the welfare of another person. apart from such speculations, we may note the frequent mention of wassailing in old english carols of the less ecclesiastical type; the singers carried with them a bowl or cup which they expected their wealthier neighbours to fill with drink.{ } sometimes the bowl was adorned with ribbons and had a golden apple at the top,{ } and it is a noteworthy fact that the box with the christmas images, mentioned in chapter iv. (p. ), is sometimes called "the vessel [wassail] cup."{ } the various christmas dishes of europe would form an interesting subject for exhaustive study. to suggest a religious origin for each would be going too far, for merely economic considerations must have had much to do with the matter, but it is very probable that in some cases they are relics of sacrifices or sacraments. the pig is a favourite food animal at christmas in other countries than our own, a fact probably connected with sacrificial customs. in denmark and sweden a pig's head was one of the principal articles of the great christmas eve repast.{ } in germany it is a fairly widespread custom to kill a pig shortly before christmas and partake of it on christmas day; its entrails and bones and the straw which has been in contact with it are supposed to have fertilizing powers.{ } in roumania a pig is the christmas animal _par excellence_,{ } in russia pigs' trotters are a favourite dish at the new year,{ } and in every servian house roast pig is the principal christmas dish.{ } in upper bavaria there is a custom which almost certainly has at its root a sacrifice: a number of poor people club together at christmas-time and buy a cow to be killed and eaten at a common feast.{ } more doubtful is the sacrificial origin of the dishes of certain | | special kinds of fish on christmas eve. in saxony and thuringia herring salad is eaten--he who bakes it will have money all the year--and in many parts of germany and also in styria carp is then consumed.{ } round ercé in brittany the family dish is cod.{ } in italy the _cenone_ or great supper held on christmas eve has fish for its animal basis, and stewed eels are particularly popular. it is to be remembered that in catholic countries the vigil of the nativity is a fast, and meat is not allowed upon it; this alone would account for the prominence of fish on christmas eve. we have already come across peculiar cakes eaten at various pre-christmas festivals; at christmas itself special kinds of bread, pastry, and cakes abound on the continent, and in some cases at least may have a religious origin. in france various sorts of cakes and loaves are known at the season of _noël_. in berry on christmas morning loaves called _cornaboeux_, made in the shape of horns or a crescent, are distributed to the poor. in lorraine people give one another _cognés_ or _cogneux_, a kind of pastry in the shape of two crescents back to back, or else long and narrow in form and with a crescent at either end. in some parts of france the _cornaboeux_ are known as _hôlais_, and ploughmen give to the poor as many of these loaves as they possess oxen and horses.{ } these horns may be substitutes for a sacrifice of oxen. sometimes the french christmas cakes have the form of complete oxen or horses--such were the thin unleavened cakes sold in the early nineteenth century at la châtre (indre). in the neighbourhood of chartres there are _cochenilles_ and _coquelins_ in animal and human shapes. little cakes called _naulets_ are sold by french bakers, and actually represent the holy child. with them may be compared the _coignoles_ of french flanders, cakes of oblong form adorned with the figure of the infant jesus in sugar.{ } sometimes the christmas loaf or cake in france has healing properties; a certain kind of cake in berry and limousin is kept all through the year, and a piece eaten in sickness has marvellous powers.{ } cortet gives an extraordinary account of a french custom | | connected with eating and drinking. at mouthe (doubs) there used to be brought to the church at christmas pies, cakes, and other eatables, and wine of the best. they were called the "de fructu," and when at vespers the verse "de fructu ventris tui ponam super sedem tuam" was reached, all the congregation made a rush for these refreshments, contended for them, and carried them off with singing and shouting.{ } the most remarkable of christmas cakes or loaves is the swedish and danish "yule boar," a loaf in the form of a boar-pig, which stands on the table throughout the festal season. it is often made from the corn of the last sheaf of the harvest, and in it dr. frazer finds a clear expression of the idea of the corn-spirit as embodied in pig form. "often it is kept till sowing-time in spring, when part of it is mixed with the seed corn and part given to the ploughman and plough-horses or plough-oxen to eat, in the expectation of a good harvest." in some parts of the esthonian island of oesel the cake has not the form of a boar, but bears the same name, and on new year's day is given to the cattle. in other parts of the island the "yule boar" is actually a little pig, roasted on christmas eve and set up on the table.{ } in germany, besides _stollen_--a sort of plum-loaf--biscuits, often of animal or human shape, are very conspicuous on christmas eve. any one who has witnessed a german christmas will remember the extraordinary variety of them, _lebkuchen_, _pfeffernüsse_, _printen_, _spekulatius_ biscuits, &c. in berlin a great pile of biscuits heaped up on your plate is an important part of the christmas eve supper. these of course are nowadays mere luxuries, but they may well have had some sort of sacrificial origin. an admirable and exhaustive study of teutonic christmas cakes and biscuits has been made, with infinite pains, by an austrian professor, dr. höfler, who reproduces some curious old biscuits, stamped with highly artistic patterns, preserved in museums.{ } among unsophisticated german peasants there is a belief in magical powers possessed by bread baked at christmas, particularly when moistened by christmas dew. (this dew is held to be peculiarly sacred, perhaps on account of the words "rorate, coeli, | | desuper" used at the advent masses.) in franconia such bread, thrown into a dangerous fire, stills the flames; in the north of germany, if put during the twelve days into the fodder of the cattle, it makes them prolific and healthy throughout the year.{ } it is pleasant to note that animals are often specially cared for at christmas. up till the early nineteenth century the cattle in shropshire were always better fed at christmas than at other times, and miss burne tells of an old gentleman in cheshire who used then to give his poultry a double portion of grain, for, he said, "all creation should rejoice at christmas, and the dumb creatures had no other manner of doing so."{ } the saying reminds one of that lover of christmas and the animals, st. francis of assisi. it will be remembered how he wished that oxen and asses should have extra corn and hay at christmas, "for reverence of the son of god, whom on such a night the most blessed virgin mary did lay down in the stall betwixt the ox and the ass."{ } it was a gracious thought, and no doubt with st. francis, as with the old cheshireman, it was a purely christian one; very possibly, however, the original object of such attention to the dumb creatures was to bring to the animals, by means of the corn, the influence of the spirit of fertility. in silesia on christmas night all the beasts are given wheat to make them thrive, and it is believed that if wheat be kept in the pocket during the christmas service and then given to fowls, it will make them grow fat and lay many eggs.{ } in sweden on christmas eve the cattle are given the best forage the house can afford, and afterwards a mess of all the viands of which their masters have partaken; the horses are given the choicest hay and, later on, ale; and the other animals are treated to good things.{ } at loblang in hungary the last sheaf at harvest is kept, and given on new year's morning to the wild birds.{ } in southern germany corn is put on the roof for them on christmas eve, or,{ } as also in sweden,{ } an unthreshed sheaf is set on a pole. in these cases it is possible that the food was originally an offering to ancestral or other spirits. _revenons à nos gâteaux._ in rome and elsewhere in italy an important article of christmas food is the _panettone_, a currant loaf. | | such loaves are sent as presents to friends. in eastern europe, too, christmas loaves or cakes are very conspicuous. the _chesnitza_ and _kolatch_ cakes among the southern slavs are flat and wheel-like, with a circular hole in the middle and a number of lines radiating from it. in the central hole is sometimes placed a lighted taper or a small christmas-tree hung with ribbons, tinsel, and sweetmeats. these cakes, made with elaborate ceremonial early in the morning, are solemnly broken by the house-father on christmas day, and a small piece is eaten by each member of the family. in some places one is fixed on the horn of the "eldest ox," and if he throws it off it is a good sign.{ } the last practice may be compared with a herefordshire custom which we shall meet with on twelfth night (p. ). in southern greece a special kind of flat loaves with a cross on the top is made on christmas eve. the name given is "christ's loaves." "the cloth is not removed from the table; but everything is left as it is in the belief that 'christ will come and eat' during the night."{ } probably christ has here taken the place of ancestral spirits. in tyrol peasants eat at christmastide the so-called _zelten_, a kind of pie filled with dried pear-slices, nuts, figs, raisins, and the like. it is baked on the eve of st. thomas, and its filling is as important an event for the whole family as was the plum-pudding and mincemeat making in old-fashioned english households. when the _zelten_ is filled the sign of the cross is made upon it and it is sprinkled with holy water and put in the oven. when baked and cooled, it is laid in the family stock of rye and is not eaten until st. stephen's day or epiphany. its cutting by the father of the family is a matter of considerable solemnity. smaller pies are made at the same time for the maid-servants, and a curious custom is connected with them. it is usual for the maids to visit their relations during the christmas holidays and share with them their _zelten_. a young man who wishes to be engaged to a maid should offer to carry her pie for her. this is his declaration of love, and if she accepts the offer she signifies her approval of him. to him falls the duty or privilege of cutting the _zelten_.{ } | | other cake customs are associated with the epiphany, and will be considered in connection with that festival. we may here in conclusion notice a few further articles of christmas good cheer. in italy and spain{ } a sort of nougat known as _torrone_ or _turron_ is eaten at christmas. you may buy it even in london in the italian quarter; in eyre street hill it is sold on christmas eve on little gaily-decked street stalls. its use may well be a survival of the roman custom of giving sweet things at the kalends in order that the year might be full of sweetness. some little russian feasting customs are probably pagan in origin, but have received a curious christian interpretation. all little russians sit down to honey and porridge on christmas eve. they call it _koutia_, and cherish the custom as something that distinguishes them from great and white russians. each dish is said to represent the holy crib. first porridge is put in, which is like putting straw in the manger; then each person helps himself to honey and fruit, and that symbolizes the babe. a place is made in the porridge, and then the honey and fruit are poured in; the fruit stands for the body, the honey for the spirit or the blood.{ } something like this is the special dish eaten in every roumanian peasant household on christmas eve--the _turte_. it is made up of a pile of thin dry leaves of dough, with melted sugar or honey, or powdered walnut, or the juice of the hemp-seed. the _turte_ are traditionally said to represent the swaddling clothes of the holy child.{ } in poland a few weeks before christmas monks bring round small packages of wafers made of flour and water, blessed by a priest, and with figures stamped upon them. no polish family is without these _oplatki_; they are sent in letters to relations and friends, as we send christmas cards. when the first star appears on christmas eve the whole family, beginning with the eldest member, break one of these wafers between themselves, at the same time exchanging good wishes. afterwards the master and mistress go to the servants' quarters to divide the wafer there.{ } | | relics of sacrifice. we have noted a connection, partial at least, between christmas good cheer and sacrifice; let us now glance at a few customs of a different character but seemingly of sacrificial origin. traces of sacrifices of cats and dogs are to be found in germany and bohemia. in lauenburg and mecklenburg on christmas morning, before the cattle are watered, a dog is thrown into their drinking water, in order that they may not suffer from the mange. in the uckermark a cat may be substituted for the dog. in bohemia a black cat is caught, boiled, and buried by night under a tree, to keep evil spirits from injuring the fields.{ } a strange christmas custom is the "hunting of the wren," once widespread in england and france and still practised in ireland. in the isle of man very early on christmas morning, when the church bells had rung out midnight, servants went out to hunt the wren. they killed the bird, fastened it to the top of a long pole, and carried it in procession to every house, chanting these words:-- "we hunted the wren for robin the bobbin, we hunted the wren for jack of the can, we hunted the wren for robin the bobbin, we hunted the wren for every one." at each house they sought to collect money. at last, when all had been visited, they laid the wren on a bier, carried it to the churchyard, and buried it with the utmost solemnity, singing manx dirges. another account, from the mid-nineteenth century, describes how on st. stephen's day manx boys went from door to door with a wren suspended by the legs in the centre of two hoops crossing one another at right angles and decorated with evergreens and ribbons. in exchange for a small coin they would give a feather of the wren, which was carefully kept as a preservative against shipwreck during the year.[ ]{ } | | there are also traces of a manx custom of boiling and eating the bird.{ } the wren is popularly called "the king of birds," and it is supposed to be highly unlucky to kill one at ordinary times. probably it was once regarded as sacred, and the christmas "hunting" is the survival of an annual custom of slaying the divine animal, such as is found among primitive peoples.{ } the carrying of its body from door to door is apparently intended to convey to each house a portion of its virtues, while the actual eating of the bird would be a sort of communion feast. perhaps the custom, in a cornish village, of eating blackbird pie on twelfth day should be explained in the same way.{ } i can here hardly do more than allude to the many games{ } that were traditional in england at christmas--hoodman-blind, shoe the wild mare, hot cockles, steal the white loaf, snap-dragon, and the rest. to attempt to describe and explain them would lead me too far, but it is highly probable that some at least might be traced to an origin in sacrificial ritual. the degeneration of religious rites into mere play is, indeed, as we have seen, a process illustrated by the whole history of christmas. only two british christmas games can be discussed in this book: blindman's buff and football. an account of a remarkable christmas football match will be found in the chapter on epiphany customs, where it is brought into connection with that closely related game, the "haxey hood." as for blindman's buff, it is distinctly a christmas sport, and it is known nearly all over europe by names derived from animals, _e.g._, "blind cow" and "blind mouse." mr. n. w. thomas has suggested that "the explanation of these names is that the players originally wore masks; the game is known in some cases as the 'blinde mumm,' or blind mask.... the player who is 'it' seems to be the sacrificer; he bears the same name as the victim, just as in agricultural customs the reaper of the last corn bears the same name as the last sheaf."{ } the scandinavian countries are very rich in christmas games and dances,{ } of which it would be interesting to attempt explanations if space allowed. one swedish song and dance game--it | | may be related to the sword-dance (see chapter xiii.)--is obviously sacrificial. several youths, with blackened faces and persons disguised, are the performers. one of them is put to death with a knife by a woman in hideous attire. afterwards, with gross gestures, she dances with the victim.{ } according to another account, from gothland, the victim sits clad in a skin, holding in his mouth a wisp of straw cut sharp at the ends and standing out. it has been conjectured that this is meant to resemble a swine's bristles, and that the man represents a hog sacrificed to frey.{ } lastly a russian game may be mentioned, though it has no sacrificial suggestion. during the christmas season girls play at what is called "the burial of the gold." they form a circle, with one girl standing in the centre, and pass from hand to hand a gold ring, which the maiden inside tries to detect. meanwhile a song is sung, "gold i bury, gold i bury." some imaginative mythologists interpret the ring as representing the sun, buried by the clouds of winter.{ } | | | | | | chapter xiii masking, the mummers' play, the feast of fools, and the boy bishop english court masking--"the lord of misrule"--the mummers' play, the sword-dance, and the morris dance--origin of st. george and other characters--mumming in eastern europe--the feast of fools, its history and suppression--the boy bishop, his functions and sermons--modern survivals of the boy bishop. [illustration: yorkshire sword-actors: st. george in combat with st. peter. from an article by mr. t. m. fallow in _the antiquary_, may, . (by permission of messrs. elliot stock.)] we have already seen a good deal of masking in connection with st. nicholas, knecht ruprecht, and other figures of the german christmas; we may next give some attention to english customs of the same sort during the twelve days, and then pass on to the strange burlesque ceremonies of the feast of fools and the boy bishop, ceremonies which show an intrusion of pagan mummery into the sanctuary itself. christmas masking. the custom of christmas masking, "mumming," or "disguising" can be traced at the english court as early as the reign of edward iii. it is in all probability connected with that wearing of beasts' heads and skins of which we have already noted various examples--its origin in folk-custom seems to have been the coming of a band of worshippers clad in this uncouth but auspicious garb to bring good luck to a house.{ } the most direct english survival is found in the village mummers who still call themselves "guisers" or "geese-dancers" and claim the right to enter every house. these will be dealt with shortly, after a consideration of more courtly customs of the same kind. | | in the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries the english court masque reached its greatest developments; the fundamental idea was then generally overlaid with splendid trappings, the dresses and the arrangements were often extremely elaborate, and the introduction of dialogued speech made these "disguises" regular dramatic performances. a notable example is ben jonson's "masque of christmas."{ } shakespeare, however, gives us in "henry viii."{ } an example of a simpler impromptu form: the king and a party dressed up as shepherds break in upon a banquet of wolsey's. in this volume we are more concerned with the popular christmas than with the festivities of kings and courts and grandees. mention must, however, be made of a personage who played an important part in the christmas of the tudor court and appeared also in colleges, inns of court, and the houses of the nobility--the "lord of misrule."{ } he was annually elected to preside over the revels, had a retinue of courtiers, and was surrounded by elaborate ceremonial. he seems to be the equivalent and was probably the direct descendant of the "abbot" or "bishop" of the feast of fools, who will be noticed later in this chapter. sometimes indeed he is actually called "abbot of misrule." a parallel to him is the twelfth night "king," and he appears to be a courtly example of the temporary monarch of folk-custom, though his name is sometimes extended to "kings" of quite vulgar origin elected not by court or gentry but by the common people. the "lord of misrule" was among the relics of paganism most violently attacked by puritan writers like stubbes and prynne, and the great rebellion seems to have been the death of him. mummers' plays and morris dances. let us turn now to the rustic christmas mummers, to-day fast disappearing, but common enough in the mid-nineteenth century. their goings-on are really far more interesting, because more traditional, than the elaborate shows and dressings-up of the court. their names vary: "mummers" and "guisers" are the commonest; in sussex they are "tipteerers," perhaps because of | | the perquisites they collect, in cornwall "geese-dancers" ("geese" no doubt comes from "disguise"), in shropshire "morris"--or "merry"--"dancers."{ } it is to be noted that they are unbidden guests, and enter your house as of right.{ } sometimes they merely dance, sing, and feast, but commonly they perform a rude drama.{ } the plays acted by the mummers{ } vary so much that it is difficult to describe them in general terms. there is no reason to suppose that the words are of great antiquity--the earliest form may perhaps date from the seventeenth century; they appear to be the result of a crude dramatic and literary instinct working upon the remains of traditional ritual, and manipulating it for purposes of entertainment. the central figure is st. george (occasionally he is called sir, king, or prince george), and the main dramatic substance, after a prologue and introduction of the characters, is a fight and the arrival of a doctor to bring back the slain to life. at the close comes a _quête_ for money. the name george is found in all the christmas plays, but the other characters have a bewildering variety of names ranging from hector and alexander to bonaparte and nelson. mr. chambers in two very interesting and elaborately documented chapters has traced a connection between these st. george players and the sword-dancers found at christmas or other festivals in germany, spain, france, italy, sweden, and great britain. the sword-dance in its simplest form is described by tacitus in his "germania": "they have," he says of the germans, "but one kind of public show: in every gathering it is the same. naked youths, who profess this sport, fling themselves in dance among swords and levelled lances."{ } in certain forms of the dance there are figures in which the swords are brought together on the heads of performers, or a pretence is made to cut at heads and feet, or the swords are put in a ring round a person's neck. this strongly suggests that an execution, probably a sacrifice, lies at the bottom of the dances. in several cases, moreover, they are accompanied by sets of verses containing the incident of a quarrel and the violent death of one of the performers. the likeness to the central feature of the | | st. george play--the slaying--will be noticed. in one of the dances, too, there is even a doctor who revives the victim. in england the sword-dance is found chiefly in the north, but with it appear to be identical the morris-dances--characterized by the wearing of jingling bells--which are commoner in the southern counties. blackened faces are common in both, and both have the same grotesque figures, a man and a woman, often called tommy and bessy in the sword-dance and "the fool" and maid marian in the morris. moreover the morris-dancers in england sometimes use swords, and in one case the performers of an undoubted sword-dance were called "morrice" dancers in the eighteenth century. bells too, so characteristic of the morris, are mentioned in some continental accounts of the sword-dance.[ ] intermediate between these dances and the fully developed st. george dramas are the plays performed on plough monday in lincolnshire and the east midlands. they all contain a good deal of dancing, a violent death and a revival, and grotesques found both in the dances and in the christmas plays. the sword-dance thus passes by a gradual transition, the dancing diminishing, the dramatic elements increasing, into the mummers' plays of st. george. the central motive, death and revival, mr. chambers regards as a symbol of the resurrection of the year or the spirit of vegetation,[ ] like the thuringian custom of executing a "wild man" covered with leaves, whom a doctor brings to life again by bleeding. this piece of ritual has apparently been attracted to christmas from an early feast of spring, and plough monday, when the east midland plays take place, is just such an early spring feast. again, in some places the | | st. george play is performed at easter, a date alluded to in the title, "pace-eggers'" or "pasque-eggers'" play.{ } two grotesque figures appear with varying degrees of clearness and with various names in the dances and in the plays--the "fool" (tommy) who wears the skin and tail of a fox or other animal, and a man dressed in woman's clothes (bessy). in these we may recognize the skin-clad mummer and the man aping a woman whom we meet in the old kalends denunciations. sometimes the two are combined, while a hobby-horse also not unfrequently appears.{ } how exactly st. george came to be the central figure of the christmas plays is uncertain; possibly they may be a development of a dance in which appeared the "seven champions," the english national heroes--of whom richard johnson wrote a history in --with st. george at their head. it is more probable, however, that the saint came in from the mediaeval pageants held on his day in many english towns.{ } * * * * * can it be that the german st. nicholas plays are more christianized and sophisticated forms of folk-dramas like in origin to those we have been discussing? they certainly resemble the english plays in the manner in which one actor calls in another by name; while the grotesque figures introduced have some likeness to the "fool" of the morris. christmas mumming, it may be added, is found in eastern as well as western europe. in greece, where ecclesiastical condemnations of such things can be traced with remarkable clearness from early times to the twelfth century, it takes sundry forms. "at pharsala," writes mr. j. c. lawson, "there is a sort of play at the epiphany, in which the mummers represent bride, bridegroom, and 'arab'; the arab tries to carry off the bride, and the bridegroom defends her.... formerly also at 'kozane and in many other parts of greece,' according to a greek writer in the early part of the nineteenth century, throughout the twelve days boys carrying bells used to go round the houses, singing songs and having 'one or more of their company dressed up with masks and bells and foxes' brushes and other such things to give them a weird and monstrous look.'"{ } | | in russia, too, mummers used to go about at christmastide, visiting houses, dancing, and performing all kinds of antics. "prominent parts were always played by human representatives of a goat and a bear. some of the party would be disguised as 'lazaruses,' that is, as blind beggars." a certain number of the mummers were generally supposed to play the part of thieves anxious to break in.{ } readers of tolstoy's "war and peace" may remember a description of some such maskings in the year . the feast of fools. so far, in this second part, we have been considering customs practised chiefly in houses, streets, and fields. we must now turn to certain festivities following hard upon christmas day, which, though pagan in origin and sometimes even blasphemous, found their way in the middle ages within the walls of the church. shortly after christmas a group of _tripudia_ or revels was held by the various inferior clergy and ministrants of cathedrals and other churches. these festivals, of which the best known are the feast of fools and the boy bishop ceremonies, have been so fully described by other writers, and my space here is so limited, that i need but treat them in outline, and for detail refer the reader to such admirable accounts as are to be found in chapters xiii., xiv., and xv. of mr. chamber's "the mediaeval stage."{ } johannes belethus, rector of theology at paris towards the end of the twelfth century, speaks of four _tripudia_ held after christmas:--those of the deacons on st. stephen's day, the priests on st. john's, the choir-boys on holy innocents', and the subdeacons on the circumcision, the epiphany, or the octave of the epiphany. the feast of subdeacons, says belethus, "we call that of fools." it is this feast which, though not apparently the earliest in origin of the four, was the most riotous and disorderly, and shows most clearly its pagan character. belethus' mention of it is the first clear notice, though disorderly revels of the same kind seem to have existed at constantinople as early as the ninth century. at first confined to the subdeacons, the feast of fools became in its later developments a festival not only of that order but of the | | inferior clergy in general, of the vicars choral, the chaplains, and the choir-clerks, as distinguished from the canons. for this rabble of poor and low-class clergy it was no doubt a welcome relaxation, and one can hardly wonder that they let themselves go in burlesquing the sacred but often wearisome rites at which it was their business to be present through many long hours, or that they delighted to usurp for once in a way the functions ordinarily performed by their superiors. the putting down of the mighty from their seat and the exalting of them of low degree was the keynote of the festival. while "deposuit potentes de sede: et exaltavit humiles" was being sung at the "magnificat," it would appear that the precentor's _baculus_ or staff was handed over to the clerk who was to be "lord of the feast" for the year, and throughout the services of the day the inferior clergy predominated, under the leadership of this chosen "lord." he was usually given some title of ecclesiastical dignity, "bishop," "prelate," "archbishop," "cardinal," or even "pope," was vested in full pontificals, and in some cases sat on the real bishop's throne, gave benedictions, and issued indulgences. these lower clergy, it must be remembered, belonged to the peasant or small _bourgeois_ class and were probably for the most part but ill-educated. they were likely to bring with them into the church the superstitions floating about among the people, and the feast of fools may be regarded as a recoil of paganism upon christianity in its very sanctuary. "an ebullition of the natural lout beneath the cassock" it has been called by mr. chambers, and many of its usages may be explained by the reaction of coarse natures freed for once from restraint. it brought to light, however, not merely personal vulgarity, but a whole range of traditional customs, derived probably from a fusion of the roman feast of the kalends of january with teutonic or celtic heathen festivities. a general account of its usages is given in a letter addressed in by the paris faculty of theology to the bishops and chapters of france:-- "priests and clerks may be seen wearing masks and monstrous visages at the hours of office. they dance in the choir dressed as | | women, panders or minstrels. they sing wanton songs. they eat black puddings at the horn of the altar while the celebrant is saying mass. they play at dice there. they cense with stinking smoke from the soles of old shoes. they run and leap through the church, without a blush at their own shame. finally they drive about the town and its theatres in shabby traps and carts, and rouse the laughter of their fellows and the bystanders in infamous performances, with indecent gesture and verses scurrilous and unchaste."{ } the letter also speaks of "bishops" or "archbishops" of fools, who wore mitres and held pastoral staffs. we here see clearly, besides mere irreverence, an outcrop of pagan practices. topsy-turvydom, the temporary exaltation of inferiors, was itself a characteristic of the kalends celebrations, and a still more remarkable feature of them was, as we have seen, the wearing of beast-masks and the dressing up of men in women's clothes. and what is the "bishop" or "archbishop" but a parallel to, and, we may well believe, an example of, the mock king whom dr. frazer has traced in so many a folk-festival, and who is found at the _saturnalia_? one more feature of the feast of fools must be considered, the ass who gave to it the not uncommon title of _asinaria festa_. at bourges, sens, and beauvais, a curious half-comic hymn was sung in church, the so-called "prose of the ass." it begins as follows:-- "orientis partibus adventavit asinus, pulcher et fortissimus, sarcinis aptissimus. hez, sir asnes, car chantez, belle bouche rechignez, vous aurez du foin assez et de l'avoine a plantez." and after eight verses in praise of the beast, with some mention of his connection with bethlehem and the wise men, it closes thus:-- "amen dicas, asine, iam satur de gramine, | | amen, amen, itera, aspernare vetera. hez va, hez va! hez va, hez! bialx sire asnes, car allez: belle bouche, car chantez."{ } an ass, it would seem, was actually brought into church, at beauvais at all events, during the singing of this song on the feast of the circumcision. on january an extraordinary ceremony took place there. a girl with a child in her arms rode upon an ass into st. stephen's church, to represent the flight into egypt. the introit, "kyrie," "gloria," and "credo" at mass ended in a bray, and at the close of the service the priest instead of saying "ite, missa est," had to bray three times, and the people to respond in like manner. mr. chambers's theory is that the ass was a descendant of the _cervulus_ or hobby-buck who figures so largely in ecclesiastical condemnations of kalends customs. the country _par excellence_ of the feast of the fools was france. it can also be traced in germany and bohemia, while in england too there are notices of it, though far fewer than in france. its abuses were the subject of frequent denunciations by church reformers from the twelfth to the fifteenth century. the feast was prohibited at various times, and notably by the council of basle in , but it was too popular to be quickly suppressed, and it took a century and a half to die out after this condemnation by a general council of the church. in one cathedral, amiens, it even lingered until . when in the fifteenth century and later the feast of fools was expelled from the churches of france, associations of laymen sprang up to carry on its traditions outside. it was indeed a form of entertainment which the townsfolk as well as the lower clergy thoroughly appreciated, and they were by no means willing to let it die. a _prince des sots_ took the place of the "bishop," and was chosen by _sociétés joyeuses_ organized by the youth of the cities for new year merrymaking. gradually their activities grew, and their celebrations came to take place at other festive times beside the christmas season. the _sots_ had a distinctive dress, its | | most characteristic feature being a hood with asses' ears, probably a relic of the primitive days when the heads of sacrificed animals were worn by festal worshippers.{ } the boy bishop. of older standing than the feast of fools were the christmas revels of the deacons, the priests, and the choir-boys. they can be traced back to the early tenth century, and may have originated at the great song-school of st. gall near constance. the most important of the three feasts was that of the boys on holy innocents' day, a theoretically appropriate date. corresponding to the "lord" of the feast of fools was the famous "boy bishop," a choir-boy chosen by the lads themselves, who was vested in cope and mitre, held a pastoral staff, and gave the benediction. other boys too usurped the dignities of their elders, and were attired as dean, archdeacons, and canons. offices for the festival, in which the boy bishop figures largely, are to be found in english, french, and german service-books, the best known in this country being those in the sarum processional and breviary. in england these ceremonies were far more popular and lasting than the feast of fools, and, unlike it, they were recognized and approved by authority, probably because boys were more amenable to discipline than men, and objectionable features could be pruned away with comparative ease. the festivities must have formed a delightful break in the year of the mediaeval schoolboy, for whom holidays, as distinguished from holy-days for church-going, scarcely existed. the feast, as we shall see, was by no means confined within the church walls; there was plenty of merrymaking and money-making outside. minute details have been preserved of the boy bishop customs at st. paul's cathedral in the thirteenth century. it had apparently been usual for the "bishop" to make the cathedral dignitaries act as taper- and incense-bearers, thus reversing matters so that the great performed the functions of the lowly. in this was forbidden, and only clerks of lower rank might be chosen for these offices. but the "bishop" had the right to demand | | after compline on the eve of the innocents a supper for himself and his train from the dean or one of his canons. the number of his following must, however, be limited; if he went to the dean's he might take with him a train of fifteen: two chaplains, two taper-bearers, five clerks, two vergers, and four residentiary canons; if to a lesser dignitary his attendants were to be fewer. on innocents' day he was given a dinner, after which came a cavalcade through the city, that the "bishop" might bless the people. he had also to preach a sermon--no doubt written for him. examples of such discourses are still extant,{ } and are not without quaint touches. for instance the bidding prayer before one of them alludes to "the ryghte reverende fader and worshypfull lorde my broder bysshopp of london, your dyoceasan," and "my worshypfull broder [the] deane of this cathedrall chirche,"{ } while in another the preacher remarks, speaking of the choristers and children of the song-school, "yt is not so long sens i was one of them myself."{ } in some places it appears, though this is by no means certain, that the boy actually sang mass. the "bishop's" office was a very desirable one not merely because of the feasting, but because he had usually the right to levy contributions on the faithful, and the amounts collected were often very large. at york, for instance, in the "bishop" pocketed about £ , all expenses paid. the general parallelism of the boy bishop customs and the feast of fools is obvious, and no doubt they had much the same folk-origin. one point, already mentioned, should specially be noticed: the election of the boy bishop generally took place on december , the eve of st. nicholas, patron of children; he was often called "nicholas bishop"; and sometimes, as at eton and mayence, he exercised episcopal functions at divine service on the eve and the feast itself. it is possible, as mr. chambers suggests, that st. nicholas's day was an older date for the boys' festival than holy innocents', and that from the connection with st. nicholas, the bishop saint _par excellence_ (he was said to have been consecrated by divine command when still a mere layman), sprang | | the custom of giving the title "bishop" to the "lord" first of the boys' feast and later of the feast of fools. in the late middle ages the boy bishop was found not merely in cathedral, monastic, and collegiate churches but in many parish churches throughout england and scotland. various inventories of the vestments and ornaments provided for him still exist. with the beginnings of the reformation came his suppression: a proclamation of henry viii., dated july , , commands "that from henceforth all suche superstitions be loste and clyerlye extinguisshed throughowte all this his realmes and dominions, forasmoche as the same doo resemble rather the unlawfull superstition of gentilitie [paganism], than the pure and sincere religion of christe."{ } in mary's reign the boy bishop reappeared, along with other "popish" usages, but after elizabeth's accession he naturally fell into oblivion. a few traces of him lingered in the seventeenth century. "the schoole-boies in the west," says aubrey, "still religiously observe st. nicholas day (decemb. th), he was the patron of the schoole-boies. at curry-yeovill in somersetshire, where there is a howschole (or schole) in the church, they have annually at that time a barrell of good ale brought into the church; and that night they have the priviledge to breake open their masters cellar-dore."{ } in france he seems to have gradually vanished, as, after the reformation, the catholic church grew more and more "respectable," but traces of him are to be found in the eighteenth century at lyons and rheims; and at sens, even in the nineteenth, the choir-boys used to play at being bishops on innocents' day and call their "archbishop" _âne_--a memory this of the old _asinaria festa_.{ } in denmark a vague trace of him was retained in the nineteenth century in a children's game. a boy was dressed up in a white shirt, and seated on a chair, and the children sang a verse beginning, "here we consecrate a yule-bishop," and offered him nuts and apples.{ } | | | | | | chapter xiv st. stephen's, st. john's, and holy innocents' days horse customs of st. stephen's day--the swedish st. stephen--st. john's wine--childermas and its beatings. the three saints' days immediately following christmas--st. stephen's (december ), st. john the evangelist's (december ), and the holy innocents' (december )--have still various folk-customs associated with them, in some cases purely secular, in others hallowed by the church. st. stephen's day. in tyrolese churches early in the morning of st. stephen's day there takes place a consecration of water and of salt brought by the people. the water is used by the peasants to sprinkle food, barns, and fields in order to avert the influence of witches and evil spirits, and bread soaked in it is given to the cattle when they are driven out to pasture on whit monday. the salt, too, is given to the beasts, and the peasants themselves partake of it before any important journey like a pilgrimage. moreover when a storm is threatening some is thrown into the fire as a protection against hail.{ } the most striking thing about st. stephen's day, however, is its connection with horses. st. stephen is their patron; in england in former times they were bled on his festival in the belief that it would benefit them,{ } and the custom is still continued in some parts of austria.{ } in tyrol it is the custom not only to | | bleed horses on st. stephen's day, but also to give them consecrated salt and bread or oats and barley.{ } in some of the carinthian valleys where horse-breeding is specially carried on, the young men ride into the village on their unsaddled steeds, and a race is run four or five times round the church, while the priest blesses the animals, sprinkling them with holy water and exorcizing them.{ } similar customs are or were found in various parts of germany. in munich, formerly, during the services on st. stephen's day more than two hundred men on horseback used to ride three times round the interior of a church. the horses were decorated with many-coloured ribbons, and the practice was not abolished till .{ } at backnang in swabia horses were ridden out, as fast as possible, to protect them from the influence of witches, and in the hohenlohe region men-servants were permitted by their masters to ride in companies to neighbouring places, where much drinking went on.{ } in holstein the lads on stephen's eve used to visit their neighbours in a company, groom the horses, and ride about in the farmyards, making a great noise until the people woke up and treated them to beer and spirits.{ } at the village of wallsbüll near flensburg the peasant youths in the early morning held a race, and the winner was called steffen and entertained at the inn. at viöl near bredstadt the child who got up last on december received the name of steffen and had to ride to a neighbour's house on a hay-fork. in other german districts the festival was called "the great horse-day," consecrated food was given to the animals, they were driven round and round the fields until they sweated violently, and at last were ridden to the blacksmith's and bled, to keep them healthy through the year. the blood was preserved as a remedy for various illnesses.{ } it is, however, in sweden that the "horsy" aspect of the festival is most obvious.{ } formerly there was a custom, at one o'clock on st. stephen's morning, for horses to be ridden to water that flowed northward; they would then drink "the cream of the water" and flourish during the year. there was a violent race to the water, and the servant who got there first was rewarded by a drink of something stronger. again, early that morning one | | peasant would clean out another's stable, often at some distance from his home, feed, water, and rub down the horses, and then be entertained to breakfast. in olden times after service on st. stephen's day there was a race home on horseback, and it was supposed that he who arrived first would be the first to get his harvest in. but the most remarkable custom is the early morning jaunt of the so-called "stephen's men," companies of peasant youths, who long before daybreak ride in a kind of race from village to village and awaken the inhabitants with a folk-song called _staffansvisa_, expecting to be treated to ale or spirits in return. the cavalcade is supposed to represent st. stephen and his followers, yet the saint is not, as might be expected, the first martyr of the new testament, but a dauntless missionary who, according to old legends, was one of the first preachers of the gospel in sweden, and was murdered by the heathen in a dark forest. a special trait, his love of horses, connects him with the customs just described. he had, the legends tell, five steeds: two red, two white, one dappled; when one was weary he mounted another, making every week a great round to preach the word. after his death his body was fastened to the back of an unbroken colt, which halted not till it came near norrala, his home. there he was buried, and a church built over his grave became a place of pilgrimage to which sick animals, especially horses, were brought for healing. mannhardt and feilberg hold that this swedish st. stephen is not a historical personage but a mythical figure, like many other saints, and that his legend, so bound up with horses, was an attempt to account for the folk-customs practised on the day dedicated to st. stephen the first martyr. it is interesting to note that legendary tradition has played about a good deal with the new testament stephen; for instance an old english carol makes him a servant in king herod's hall at the time of christ's birth:-- "stephen out of kitchen came, with boarës head on hand, he saw a star was fair and bright over bethlehem stand." | | thereupon he forsook king herod for the child jesus, and was stoned to death.{ } to return, however, to the horse customs of the day after christmas, it is pretty plain that they are of non-christian origin. mannhardt has suggested that the race which is their most prominent feature once formed the prelude to a ceremony of lustration of houses and fields with a sacred tree. somewhat similar "ridings" are found in various parts of europe in spring, and are connected with a procession that appears to be an ecclesiastical adaptation of a pre-christian lustration-rite.{ } the great name of mannhardt lends weight to this theory, but it seems a somewhat roundabout way of accounting for the facts. perhaps an explanation of the "horsiness" of the day might be sought in some pre-christian sacrifice of steeds. * * * * * we have already noted that st. stephen's day is often the date for the "hunting of the wren" in the british isles; it was also in england generally devoted to hunting and shooting, it being held that the game laws were not in force on that day.{ } this may be only an instance of christmas licence, but it is just possible that there is here a survival of some tradition of sacrificial slaughter. st. john's day. an ecclesiastical adaptation of a pagan practice may be seen in the _johannissegen_ customary on st. john's day in many parts of catholic germany and austria. a quantity of wine is brought to church to be blessed by the priest after mass, and is taken away by the people to be drunk at home. there are many popular beliefs about the magical powers of this wine, beliefs which can be traced back through at least four centuries. in tyrol and bavaria it is supposed to protect its drinker from being struck by lightning, in the rhenish palatinate it is drunk in order that the other wine a man possesses may be kept from injury, or that next year's harvest may be good. in nassau, carinthia, and other regions some is poured into the wine-casks to preserve the precious drink from harm, while in bavaria some is kept for use as medicine in sickness. | | in syria st. john's wine is said to keep the body sound and healthy, and on his day even babes in the cradle are made to join in the family drinking.{ } it appears that in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries there was a great drinking on st. john's day of ordinary, as well as consecrated, wine, often to excess, and scholars of that time seriously believed that _weihnacht_, the german name for christmas, should properly be spelt _weinnacht_.{ } the _johannissegen_, or _johannisminne_ as it was sometimes called, seems, all things considered, to be a survival of an old wine sacrifice like the _martinsminne_. that it does not owe its origin to the legend about the cup of poison drunk by st. john is shown by the fact that a similar custom was in old times practised in germany and sweden on st. stephen's day.{ } holy innocents' day. holy innocents' day or childermas, whether or not because of herod's massacre, was formerly peculiarly unlucky; it was a day upon which no one, if he could possibly avoid it, should begin any piece of work. it is said of that superstitious monarch, louis xi. of france, that he would never do any business on that day, and of our own edward iv. that his coronation was postponed, because the date originally fixed was childermas. in cornwall no housewife would scour or scrub on childermas, and in northamptonshire it was considered very unlucky to begin any undertaking or even to do washing throughout the year on the day of the week on which the feast fell. childermas was there called dyzemas and a saying ran: "what is begun on dyzemas day will never be finished." in ireland it was called "the cross day of the year," and it was said that anything then begun must have an unlucky ending.{ } in folk-ritual the day is remarkable for its association with whipping customs. the seventeenth-century writer gregorie mentions a custom of whipping up children on innocents' day in the morning, and explains its purpose as being that the memory of herod's "murther might stick the closer; and, in a moderate proportion, to act over the crueltie again in kind."{ } | | this explanation will hardly hold water; the many and various examples of the practice of whipping at christmas collected by mannhardt{ } show that it is not confined either to innocents' day or to children. moreover it is often regarded not as a cruel infliction, but as a service for which return must be made in good things to eat. in central and southern germany the custom is called "peppering" (_pfeffern_) and also by other names. in the orlagau the girls on st. stephen's, and the boys on st. john's day beat their parents and godparents with green fir-branches, while the menservants beat their masters with rosemary sticks, saying: "fresh green! long life! give me a bright _thaler_ [or nuts, &c.]." they are entertained with plum-loaf or gingerbreads and brandy. in the saxon erzgebirge the young fellows whip the women and girls on st. stephen's day, if possible while they are still in bed, with birch-rods, singing the while: "fresh green, fair and fine, gingerbread and brandy-wine"; and on st. john's day the women pay the men back. at several places in the thuringian forest children on innocents' day beat passers-by with birch-boughs, and get in return apples, nuts, and other dainties. various other german examples of the same class of practice are given by mannhardt.{ } in france children who let themselves be caught in bed on the morning of holy innocents' came in for a whipping from their parents; while in one province, normandy, the early risers among the young people themselves gave the sluggards a beating. the practice even gave birth to a verb--_innocenter_.{ } there can be little doubt that the innocents' day beating is a survival of a pre-christian custom. similar ritual scourging is found in many countries at various seasons of the year, and is by no means confined to europe.{ } as now practised, it has | | often a harsh appearance, or has become a kind of teasing, as when in bohemia at easter young men whip girls until they give them something. its original purpose, however, as we have seen in connection with st. martin's rod, seems to have been altogether kindly. the whipping was not meant as a punishment or expiation or to harden people to pain, but either to expel harmful influences and drive out evil spirits or to convey by contact the virtues of some sacred tree. | | | | | | | | chapter xv new year's day principle of new year customs--the new year in france, germany, the united states, and eastern europe--"first-footing" in great britain--scottish new year practices--highland fumigation and "breast-strip" customs--hogmanay and aguillanneuf--new year processions in macedonia, roumania, greece, and rome--methods of augury--sundry new year charms. coming to january , the modern and the roman new year's day, we shall find that most of its customs have been anticipated at earlier festivals; the roman kalends practices have often been shifted to christmas, while old celtic and teutonic new year practices have frequently been transferred to the roman date.[ ] the observances of new year's day mainly rest, as was said in chapter vi., on the principle that "a good beginning makes a good ending," that as the first day is so will the rest be. if you would have plenty to eat during the year, dine lavishly on new year's day, if you would be rich see that your pockets are not empty at this critical season, if you would be lucky avoid like poison at this of all times everything of ill omen. "on the borders," says mr. w. henderson, "care is taken that no one enters a house empty-handed on new year's day. a visitor must bring in his hand some eatable; he will be doubly welcome if he carries in a hot stoup or 'plotie.' everybody | | should wear a new dress on new year's day, and if its pockets contain money of every description they will be certain not to be empty throughout the year."{ } the laying of stress on what happens on new year's day is by no means peculiarly european. hindus, for instance, as mr. edgar thurston tells us, "are very particular about catching sight of some auspicious object on the morning of new year's day, as the effects of omens seen on that occasion are believed to last throughout the year." it is thought that a man's whole prosperity depends upon the things that he then happens to fix his eyes upon.{ } charms, omens, and good wishes are naturally the most prominent customs of january and its eve. the new year in england can hardly be called a popular festival; there is no public holiday and the occasion is more associated with penitential watch night services and good resolutions than with rejoicing. but let the reader, if he be in london, pay a visit to soho at this time, and he will get some idea of what the new year means to the foreigner. the little restaurants are decorated with gay festoons of all colours and thronged with merrymakers, the shop-windows are crowded with all manner of _recherché_ delicacies; it is the gala season of the year. in france january is a far more festal day than christmas; it is then that presents are given, family gatherings held, and calls paid. in the morning children find their stockings filled with gifts, and then rush off to offer good wishes to their parents. in the afternoon the younger people call upon their older relations, and in the evening all meet for dinner at the home of the head of the family.{ } in germany the new year is a time of great importance. cards are far more numerous than at christmas, and "new year boxes" are given to the tradespeople, while on the eve (_sylvesterabend_) there are dances or parties, the custom of forecasting the future by lead-pouring is practised, and at the stroke of midnight there is a general cry of "prosit neu jahr!", a drinking of healths, and a shaking of hands.{ } new year wishes and "compliments of the season" are | | familiar to us all, but in england we have not that custom of paying formal calls which in france is so characteristic of january , when not only relations and personal friends, but people whose connection is purely official are expected to visit one another. in devout brittany the wish exchanged takes a beautiful religious form--"i wish you a good year and paradise at the end of your days."{ } new year calling is by no means confined to france. in the united states it is one of the few traces left by the early dutch settlers on american manners. the custom is now rapidly falling into disuse,{ } but in new york up to the middle of the nineteenth century "new year's day was devoted to the universal interchange of visits. every door was thrown wide open. it was a breach of etiquette to omit any acquaintance in these annual calls, when old friendships were renewed and family differences amicably settled. a hearty welcome was extended even to strangers of presentable appearance." at that time the day was marked by tremendous eating and drinking, and its visiting customs sometimes developed into wild riot. young men in barouches would rattle from one house to another all day long. "the ceremony of calling was a burlesque. there was a noisy and hilarious greeting, a glass of wine was swallowed hurriedly, everybody shook hands all round, and the callers dashed out and rushed into the carriage and were driven rapidly to the next house."{ } the new year calling to offer good wishes resembles in some respects the widespread custom of "first-footing," based on the belief that the character of the first visitor on new year's day affects the welfare of the household during the year. we have already met with a "first-foot" in the _polaznik_ of the southern slavs on christmas day. it is to be borne in mind that for them, or at all events for the crivoscian highlanders whose customs are described by sir arthur evans, christmas is essentially the festival of the new year: new year's day is not spoken of at all, its name and ceremonies being completely absorbed by the feasts of "great" and "little" christmas.{ } the "first-foot" superstition is found in countries as far apart as | | scotland and macedonia. let us begin with some english examples of it. in shropshire the most important principle is that if luck is to rest on a house the "first-foot" must not be a woman. to provide against such an unlucky accident as that a woman should call first, people often engage a friendly man or boy to pay them an early visit. it is particularly interesting to find a shropshire parallel to the _polaznik's_ action in going straight to the hearth and striking sparks from the christmas log,[ ] when miss burne tells us that one old man who used to "let the new year in" "always entered without knocking or speaking, and silently stirred the fire before he offered any greeting to the family."{ } in the villages of the teme valley, worcestershire and herefordshire, "in the old climbing-boy days, chimneys used to be swept on new year's morning, that one of the right sex should be the first to enter; and the young urchins of the neighbourhood went the round of the houses before daylight singing songs, when one of their number would be admitted into the kitchen 'for good luck all the year.'" in this custom was still practised; and at some of the farmhouses, if washing-day chanced to fall on the first day of the year, it was either put off, or to make sure, before the women could come, the waggoner's lad was called up early that he might be let out and let in again.{ } the idea of the unluckiness of a woman's being the "first-foot" is extraordinarily widespread; the present writer has met with it in an ordinary london restaurant, where great stress was laid upon a man's opening the place on new year's morning before the waitresses arrived. a similar belief is found even in far-away china: it is there unlucky on new year's day to meet a woman on first going out.{ } can the belief be connected with such ideas about dangerous influences proceeding from women as have been described by dr. frazer in vol. iii. of "the golden bough,"{ } or does it rest merely on a view of woman as the inferior sex? the unluckiness of first meeting a woman is, we may note, not confined to, but merely intensified on new year's day; in shropshire{ } and in germany{ } it belongs to any ordinary day. | | as to the general attitude towards woman suggested by these superstitions i may quote a striking passage from miss jane harrison's "themis." "woman to primitive man is a thing at once weak and magical, to be oppressed, yet feared. she is charged with powers of child-bearing denied to man, powers only half understood, forces of attraction, but also of danger and repulsion, forces that all over the world seem to fill him with dim terror. the attitude of man to woman, and, though perhaps in a less degree, of woman to man, is still to-day essentially magical."{ } "first-foot" superstitions flourish in the north of england and in scotland. in the northern counties a man is often specially retained as "first-foot" or "lucky bird"; in some parts he must be a bachelor, and he is often expected to bring a present with him--a shovelful of coals, or some eatable, or whisky.{ } in the east riding of yorkshire a boy called the "lucky bird" used to come at dawn on christmas morning as well as on new year's day, and bring a sprig of evergreens{ }--an offering by now thoroughly familiar to us. in scotland, especially in edinburgh, it is customary for domestic servants to invite their sweethearts to be their "first-foots." the old scotch families who preserve ancient customs encourage their servants to "first-foot" them, and grandparents like their grandchildren to perform for them the same service.{ } in aberdeenshire it is considered most important that the "first-foot" should not come empty-handed. formerly he carried spiced ale; now he brings a whisky-bottle. shortbread, oat-cakes, "sweeties," or sowens, were also sometimes brought by the "first-foot," and occasionally the sowens were sprinkled on the doors and windows of the houses visited--a custom strongly suggesting a sacramental significance of some sort.{ } before we leave the subject of british "first-footing" we may notice one or two things that have possibly a racial significance. not only must the "first-foot" be a man or boy, he is often required to be dark-haired; it is unlucky for a fair- or red-haired person to "let in" the new year.{ } it has been suggested by sir john rhys that this idea rested in the first instance upon | | racial antipathy--the natural antagonism of an indigenous dark-haired people to a race of blonde invaders.{ } another curious requirement--in the isle of man and northumberland--is that the "first-foot" shall not be flat-footed: he should be a person with a high-arched instep, a foot that "water runs under." sir john rhys is inclined to connect this also with some racial contrast. he remarks, by way of illustration, that english shoes do not as a rule fit welsh feet, being made too low in the instep.{ } some reference has already been made to scottish new year customs. in scotland, the most protestant region of europe, the country in which puritanism abolished altogether the celebration of christmas, new year's day is a great occasion, and is marked by various interesting usages, its importance being no doubt largely due to the fact that it has not to compete with the church feast of the nativity. nowadays, indeed, the example of anglicanism is affecting the country to a considerable extent, and christmas day is becoming observed in the churches. the new year, however, is still the national holiday, and january a great day for visiting and feasting, the chief, in fact, of all festivals.{ } new year's day and its eve are often called the "daft days"; cakes and pastry of all kinds are eaten, healths are drunk, and calls are paid.{ } in edinburgh there are striking scenes on new year's eve. "towards evening," writes an observer, "the thoroughfares become thronged with the youth of the city.... as the midnight hour approaches, drinking of healths becomes frequent, and some are already intoxicated.... the eyes of the immense crowd are ever being turned towards the lighted clock-face of 'auld and faithful'' tron [church], the hour approaches, the hands seem to stand still, but in one second more the hurrahing, the cheering, the hand-shaking, the health-drinking, is all kept up as long as the clock continues to ring out the much-longed-for midnight hour.... the crowds slowly disperse, the much-intoxicated and helpless ones being hustled about a good deal, the police urging them on out of harm's way. the first-footers are off and away, flying in every direction through the city, singing, cheering, and shaking hands with all and sundry."{ } | | one need hardly allude to the gathering of london scots around st. paul's to hear the midnight chime and welcome the new year with the strains of "auld lang syne," except to say that times have changed and scotsmen are now lost in the swelling multitude of roysterers of all nationalities. drinking is and was a great feature of the scottish new year's eve. "on the approach of twelve o'clock, a _hot pint_ was prepared--that is, a kettle or flagon full of warm, spiced, and sweetened ale, with an infusion of spirits. when the clock had struck the knell of the departed year, each member of the family drank of this mixture 'a good health and a happy new year and many of them' to all the rest, with a general hand-shaking." the elders of the family would then sally out to visit their neighbours, and exchange greetings.{ } at biggar in lanarkshire it was customary to "burn out the old year" with bonfires, while at burghead in morayshire a tar-barrel called the "clavie" was set on fire and carried about the village and the fishing boats. its embers were scrambled for by the people and carefully kept as charms against witchcraft.{ } these fire-customs may be compared with those on hallowe'en, which, as we have seen, is probably an old new year's eve. stewart in his "popular superstitions of the highlands of scotland" tells how on the last night of the year the strathdown highlanders used to bring home great loads of juniper, which on new year's day was kindled in the different rooms, all apertures being closed so that the smoke might produce a thorough fumigation. not only human beings had to stand this, but horses and other animals were treated in the same way to preserve them from harm throughout the year. moreover, first thing on new year's morning, everybody, while still in bed, was asperged with a large brush.{ } there is a great resemblance here to the catholic use of incense and holy water in southern germany and austria on the _rauchnächte_ (see also chapter viii.). in tyrol these nights are christmas, new year's, and epiphany eves. when night falls the tyrolese peasant goes with all his household through each room and outhouse, his wife bearing the holy water vessel and the censer. every corner of the buildings, every animal, | | every human being is purified with the sacred smoke and the holy sprinkling, and even the christmas pie must be hallowed in this way. in orthodox greek countries something of the same kind takes place, as we shall see, at the epiphany. to drive away evil spirits is no doubt the object of all these rites.{ } the most interesting of scottish new year customs, considered as religious survivals, is a practice found in the highlands on new year's eve, and evidently of sacrificial origin. it has been described by several writers, and has various forms. according to one account the hide of the mart or winter cow was wrapped round the head of one of a company of men, who all made off belabouring the hide with switches. the disorderly procession went three times _deiseal_ (according to the course of the sun) round each house in the village, striking the walls and shouting on coming to a door a rhyme demanding admission. on entering, each member of the party was offered refreshments, and their leader gave to the goodman of the house the "breast-stripe" of a sheep, deer, or goat, wrapped round the point of a shinty stick.{ } we have here another survival of that oft-noted custom of skin-wearing, which, as has been seen, originated apparently in a desire for contact with the sanctity of the sacrificed victim. further, the "breast-stripe" given to the goodman of each house is evidently meant to convey the hallowed influences to each family. it is an oval strip, and no knife may be used in removing it from the flesh. the head of the house sets fire to it, and it is given to each person in turn to smell. the inhaling of its fumes is a talisman against fairies, witches, and demons. in the island of south uist, according to a quite recent account, each person seizes hold of it as it burns, making the sign of the cross, if he be a catholic, in the name of the trinity, and it is put thrice sun-wise about the heads of those present. if it should be extinguished it is a bad omen for the new year.{ } the writer of the last account speaks of the "breast-strip" as the "hogmanay," and it is just possible that the well-known hogmanay processions of children on new year's eve (in scotland and elsewhere) may have some connection with the ritual above described. it is customary for the poorer children to | | swaddle themselves in a great sheet, doubled up in front so as to form a vast pocket, and then go along the streets in little bands, calling out "hogmanay" at the doors of the wealthier classes, and expecting a dole of oaten bread. each child gets a quadrant of oat-cake (sometimes with cheese), and this is called the "hogmanay." here is one of the rhymes they sing:-- "get up, goodwife, and shake your feathers, and dinna think that we are beggars; for we are bairns come out to play, get up and gie's our hogmanay!"{ } the word _hogmanay_--it is found in various forms in the northern english counties as well as in scotland--has been a puzzle to etymologists. it is used both for the last day of the year and for the gift of the oaten cake or the like; and, as we have seen, it is shouted by the children in their quest. exactly corresponding to it in sense and use is the french word _aguillanneuf_, from which it appears to be derived. although the phonetic difference between this and the scottish word is great, the norman form _hoguinané_ is much closer. there is, moreover, a spanish word _aguinaldo_ (formerly _aguilando_) = christmas-box. the popular explanation of the french term as _au-guy-l'an-neuf_ (to the mistletoe the new year) is now rejected by scholars, and it seems likely that the word is a corruption of the latin _kalendae_.{ } a few instances of _aguillanneuf_ customs may be given. here are specimens of rhymes sung by the new year _quêteurs_:-- "si vous veniez à la dépense, À la dépense de chez nous, vous mangeriez de bons choux, on vous servirait du rost. hoguinano. donnez-moi mes hoguignettes dans un panier que voicy. je l'achetai samedy d'un bon homme de dehors; mais il est encore à payer. hoguinano."{ } | | formerly at matignon and ploubalay in brittany on christmas eve the boys used to get together, carry big sticks and wallets, and knock at farmhouse doors. when the inmates called out, "who's there?" they would answer, "the _hoguihanneu_," and after singing something they were given a piece of lard. this was put on a pointed stick carried by one of the boys, and was kept for a feast called the _bouriho_.{ } elsewhere in brittany poor children went round crying "_au guyané_," and were given pieces of lard or salt beef, which they stuck on a long spit.{ } in guernsey the children's quest at the new year was called _oguinane_. they chanted the following rhyme:-- "oguinâni! oguinâno! ouvre ta pouque, et pis la recclios."[ ]{ } similar processions are common in eastern europe at the new year. in some parts of macedonia on new year's eve men or boys go about making a noise with bells. in other districts, early on new year's morning, lads run about with sticks or clubs, knock people up, cry out good wishes, and expect to be rewarded with something to eat. elsewhere again they carry green olive- or cornel-boughs, and touch with them everyone they meet.{ } we have already considered various similar customs, the noise and knocking being apparently intended to drive away evil spirits, and the green boughs to bring folks into contact with the spirit of growth therein immanent. in roumania on new year's eve there is a custom known as the "little plough." boys and men go about after dark from house to house, with long greetings, ringing of bells, and cracking of whips. on new year's morning roumanians throw handfuls of corn at one another with some appropriate greeting, such as:-- "may you live, may you flourish like apple-trees, | | like pear-trees in springtime, like wealthy autumn, of all things plentiful." generally this greeting is from the young to the old or from the poor to the rich, and a present in return is expected.{ } in athens models of war-ships are carried round by waits, who make a collection of money in them. "st. basil's ships" they are called, and they are supposed to represent the vessel on which st. basil, whose feast is kept on january , sailed from caesarea.{ } it is probable that this is but a christian gloss on a pagan custom. possibly there may be here a survival of an old greek practice of bearing a ship in procession in honour of dionysus,{ } but it is to be noted that similar observances are found at various seasons in countries like germany and belgium where no greek influence can be traced. the custom is widespread, and it has been suggested by mannhardt that it was originally intended either to promote the success of navigation or to carry evil spirits out to sea.{ } it is interesting, lastly, to read a mediaeval account of a new year _quête_ in rome. "the following," says the writer, "are common roman sports at the kalends of january. on the eve of the kalends at a late hour boys arise and carry a shield. one of them wears a mask; they whistle and beat a drum, they go round to the houses, they surround the shield, the drum sounds, and the masked figure whistles. this playing ended, they receive a present from the master of the house, whatever he thinks fit to give. so they do at every house. on that day they eat all kinds of vegetables. and in the morning two of the boys arise, take olive-branches and salt, enter into the houses, and salute the master with the words, 'joy and gladness be in the house, so many sons, so many little pigs, so many lambs,' and they wish him all good things. and before the sun rises they eat either a piece of honeycomb or something sweet, that the whole year may pass sweetly, without strife and great trouble."{ } * * * * * various methods of peering into the future, more or less like | | those described at earlier festivals, are practised at the new year. especially popular at german new year's eve parties is the custom of _bleigiessen_. "this ceremony consists of boiling specially prepared pieces of lead in a spoon over a candle; each guest takes his spoonful and throws it quickly into the basin of water which is held ready. according to the form which the lead takes so will his future be in the coming year ... ships (which indicate a journey), or hearts (which have, of course, only one meaning), or some other equally significant shape is usually discerned."{ } in macedonia st. basil's eve (december ) is a common time for divination: a favourite method is to lay on the hot cinders a pair of wild-olive-leaves to represent a youth and a maid. if the leaves crumple up and draw near each other, it is concluded that the young people love one another dearly, but if they recoil apart the opposite is the case. if they flare up and burn, it is a sign of excessive passion.{ } in lithuania on new year's eve nine sorts of things--money, cradle, bread, ring, death's head, old man, old woman, ladder, and key--are baked of dough, and laid under nine plates, and every one has three grabs at them. what he gets will fall to his lot during the year.{ } lastly, in brittany it is supposed that the wind which prevails on the first twelve days of the year will blow during each of the twelve months, the first day corresponding to january, the second to february, and so on.{ } similar ideas of the prophetic character of christmastide weather are common in our own and other countries. * * * * * practically all the customs discussed in this chapter have been of the nature of charms; one or two more, practised on new year's day or eve, may be mentioned in conclusion. there are curious superstitions about new year water. at bromyard in herefordshire it was the custom, at midnight on new year's eve, to rush to the nearest spring to snatch the "cream of the well"--the first pitcherful of water--and with it the prospect of the best luck.{ } a highland practice was to send | | some one on the last night of the year to draw a pitcherful of water in silence, and without the vessel touching the ground. the water was drunk on new year's morning as a charm against witchcraft and the evil eye.{ } a similar belief about the luckiness of "new water" exists at canzano peligno in the abruzzi. "on new year's eve, the fountain is decked with leaves and bits of coloured stuff, and fires are kindled round it. as soon as it is light, the girls come as usual with their copper pots on their head; but the youths are on this morning guardians of the well, and sell the 'new water' for nuts and fruits--and other sweet things."{ } in some of the aegean islands when the family return from church on new year's day, the father picks up a stone and leaves it in the yard, with the wish that the new year may bring with it "as much gold as is the weight of the stone."{ } finally, in little russia "corn sheaves are piled upon a table, and in the midst of them is set a large pie. the father of the family takes his seat behind them, and asks his children if they can see him. 'we cannot see you,' they reply. on which he proceeds to express what seems to be a hope that the corn will grow so high in his fields that he may be invisible to his children when he walks there at harvest-time."{ } with a curious and beautiful old carol from south wales i must bring this chapter to a close. it was formerly sung before dawn on new year's day by poor children who carried about a jug of water drawn that morning from the well. with a sprig of box or other evergreen they would sprinkle those they met, wishing them the compliments of the season. to pay their respects to those not abroad at so early an hour, they would serenade them with the following lines, which, while connected with the "new water" tradition, contain much that is of doubtful interpretation, and are a fascinating puzzle for folk-lorists:-- "here we bring new water from the well so clear, for to worship god with, this happy new year. | | sing levy-dew, sing levy-dew, the water and the wine; the seven bright gold wires and the bugles they do shine. sing reign of fair maid, with gold upon her toe,-- open you the west door, and turn the old year go: sing reign of fair maid, with gold upon her chin,-- open you the east door, and let the new year in."{ } | | | | | | chapter xvi epiphany to candlemas the twelfth cake and the "king of the bean"--french twelfth night customs--st. basil's cake in macedonia--epiphany and the expulsion of evils--the befana in italy--the magi as present-bringers--greek epiphany customs--wassailing fruit-trees--herefordshire and irish twelfth night practices--the "haxey hood" and christmas football--st. knut's day in sweden--rock day--plough monday--candlemas, its ecclesiastical and folk ceremonies--farewells to christmas. [illustration: the epiphany in florence.] the epiphany. though the epiphany has ceased to be a popular festival in england, it was once a very high day indeed, and in many parts of europe it is still attended by folk-customs of great interest.[ ] for the peasant of tyrol, indeed, it is new year's day, the first of january being kept only by the townsfolk and modernized people.{ } to englishmen perhaps the best known feature of the secular festival is the twelfth cake. some words of leigh hunt's will show what an important place this held in the mid-nineteenth century:-- "christmas goes out in fine style,--with twelfth night. it is a finish worthy of the time. christmas day was the morning of the season; new year's day the middle of it, or noon; twelfth night is the night, brilliant with innumerable planets of twelfth-cakes. the whole island keeps court; nay, all christendom. all the world are | | kings and queens. everybody is somebody else, and learns at once to laugh at, and to tolerate, characters different from his own, by enacting them. cakes, characters, forfeits, lights, theatres, merry rooms, little holiday-faces, and, last not least, the painted sugar on the cakes, so bad to eat but so fine to look at, useful because it is perfectly useless except for a sight and a moral--all conspire to throw a giddy splendour over the last night of the season, and to send it to bed in pomp and colours, like a prince."{ } * * * * * for seventeenth-century banqueting customs and the connection of the cake with the "king of the bean" herrick may be quoted:-- "now, now the mirth comes with the cake full of plums, where bean's the king of the sport here; besides we must know, the pea also must revel as queen in the court here. begin then to choose this night as ye use, who shall for the present delight here be a king by the lot, and who shall not be twelfth-day queen for the night here which known, let us make joy-sops with the cake; and let not a man then be seen here, who unurg'd will not drink, to the base from the brink, a health to the king and the queen here."{ } there are many english references to the custom of electing a twelfth day monarch by means of a bean or pea, and this "king" is mentioned in royal accounts as early as the reign of edward ii.{ } he appears, however, to have been even more popular in france than in england. | | the method of choosing the epiphany king is thus described by the sixteenth-century writer, Étienne pasquier:-- "when the cake has been cut into as many portions as there are guests, a small child is put under the table, and is interrogated by the master under the name of phebé [phoebus], as if he were a child who in the innocence of his age represented a kind of apollo's oracle. to this questioning the child answers with a latin word: _domine_. thereupon the master calls on him to say to whom he shall give the piece of cake which he has in his hand: the child names whoever comes into his head, without respect of persons, until the portion where the bean is given out. he who gets it is reckoned king of the company, although he may be a person of the least importance. this done, everyone eats, drinks, and dances heartily."{ } in berry at the end of the festive repast a cake is brought before the head of the household, and divided into as many portions as there are guests, plus one. the youngest member of the family distributes them. the portion remaining is called _la part du bon dieu_ and is given to the first person who asks for it. a band of children generally come to claim it, with a leader who sings a little song.{ } there was formerly a custom of dressing up a king in full robes. he had a fool to amuse him during the feast, and shots were fired when he drank.{ } here is a nineteenth-century account from lorraine:-- "on the vigil of the epiphany all the family and the guests assemble round the table, which is illuminated by a lamp hanging above its centre. lots are cast for the king of the feast, and if the head of anyone present casts no shadow on the wall it is a sign that he will die during the year. then the king chooses freely his queen: they have the place of honour, and each time they raise their glasses to their mouths cries of 'the king drinks, the queen drinks!' burst forth on all sides.... the next day an enormous cake, divided into equal portions, is distributed to the company by the youngest boy. the first portion is always for _le bon dieu_, the second for the blessed virgin (these two portions are always given to the first poor person who presents himself); then come those of relations, servants, and visitors. he who finds a bean in his portion is proclaimed king; if it is a lady she chooses her | | king, and he invites the company to a banquet on the sunday following, at which black kings are made by rubbing the face with a burnt cork."{ } the use of the _gâteau des rois_ goes pretty far back. at the monastery of mont-st.-michel in the thirteenth century the epiphany king was chosen from among the monks by means of a number of cakes in one of which a bean was placed. at matins, high mass, and vespers he sat upon a special throne.{ } it may be added that there is a quaint old story of a curate "who having taken his preparations over evening, when all men cry (as the manner is) _the king drinketh_, chanting his masse the next morning, fell asleep in his memento: and, when he awoke, added with a loud voice, _the king drinketh_."{ } one more french "king" custom may be mentioned, though it relates to christmas day, not epiphany. at salers in the centre of france there were formerly a king and queen whose function was to preside over the festival, sit in a place of honour in church, and go first in the procession. the kingship was not elective, but was sold by auction at the church door, and it is said to have been so much coveted that worthy citizens would sell their heritage in order to purchase it.{ } it may be remarked that epiphany kings and cakes similar to the french can be traced in holland and germany,{ } and that the "king of the bean" is known in modern italy, though there he may be an importation from the north.{ } how is this merry monarch to be accounted for? his resemblance to the king of the _saturnalia_, who presided over the fun of the feast in the days of imperial rome, is certainly striking, but it is impossible to say whether he derives directly from that personage. no doubt his association with the feast of the three kings has helped to maintain his rule. as for the bean, it appears to have been a sacred vegetable in ancient times. there is a story about the philosopher pythagoras, how, when flying before a host of rebels, he came upon a field of beans and refused to pass through it for fear of crushing the plants, thus enabling his pursuers to overtake him. moreover, the _flamen dialis_ in rome was forbidden to eat or even name the vegetable, and the | | name of the fabii, a roman _gens_, suggests a totem tribe of the bean.{ } in eastern europe, though i know of no election of a king, there are new year customs with cakes, closely resembling some of the french practices described a page or two back. "st. basil's cake" on new year's eve in macedonia is a kind of shortbread with a silver coin and a cross of green twigs in it. when all are seated round the table the father and mother take the cake, "and break it into two pieces, which are again subdivided by the head of the family into shares. the first portion is destined for st. basil, the holy virgin, or the patron saint whose icon is in the house. the second stands for the house itself. the third for the cattle and domestic animals belonging thereto. the fourth for the inanimate property, and the rest for each member of the household according to age. each portion is successively dipped in a cup of wine." he who finds the cross or the coin in his share of the cake will prosper during the year. the money is considered sacred and is used to buy a votive taper.{ } in macedonia when the new year's supper is over, the table, with the remnants of the feast upon it, is removed to a corner of the room in order that st. basil may come and partake of the food.{ } he appears to have been substituted by the church for the spirits of the departed, for whom, as we have seen, food is left in the west on all souls' and christmas eves. probably the macedonian practice of setting aside a portion of the cake for a saint, and the pieces cut in france for _le bon dieu_ and the virgin or the three magi, have a like origin. one may compare them with the serbian breaking of the _kolatch_ cake in honour of christ "the patron namegiver." is it irrelevant, also, to mention here the greek church custom, at the preparation of the elements for the eucharist, of breaking portions of the bread in memory of the virgin and other saints? * * * * * in many countries the epiphany is a special time for the expulsion of evils. at brunnen in switzerland boys go about in procession on twelfth night, with torches and lanterns, and make a great noise with horns, bells, whips, &c., in order to | | frighten away two wood-spirits. in labruguière in southern france on the eve of twelfth day the inhabitants rush through the streets, making discordant noises and a huge uproar, with the object of scaring away ghosts and devils.{ } in parts of the eastern alps there takes place what is called _berchtenlaufen_. lads, formerly to the number of two or three hundred, rush about in the strangest masks, with cowbells, whips, and all sorts of weapons, and shout wildly.{ } in nuremberg up to the year on _bergnacht_ or epiphany eve boys and girls used to run about the streets and knock loudly at the doors.{ } such knocking, as we have seen, may well have been intended to drive away spirits from the houses. at eschenloh near partenkirchen in upper bavaria three women used to _berchten_ on that evening. they all had linen bags over their heads, with holes for the mouth and eyes. one carried a chain, another a rake, and the third a broom. going round to the houses, they knocked on the door with the chain, scraped the ground with the rake, and made a noise of sweeping with the broom.{ } the suggestion of a clearing away of evils is here very strong. in connection with the _kallikantzaroi_ mention has already been made of the purification of houses with holy water, performed by greek priests on the epiphany. in roumania, where a similar sprinkling is performed, a curious piece of imitative magic is added--the priest is invited to sit upon the bed, in order that the brooding hen may sit upon her eggs. moreover there should be maize grains under the mattress; then the hen will lay eggs in abundance.{ } * * * * * we noted in an earlier chapter the name _berchtentag_ applied in southern germany and in austria to the epiphany, and we saw also how the mysterious frau berchta was specially connected with the day. on the epiphany and its eve in the möllthal in carinthia a female figure, "the berchtel," goes the round of the houses. she is generally dressed in a hide, wears a hideous wooden mask, and hops wildly about, inquiring as to the behaviour of children, and demanding gifts.{ } | | something of the terrible, as well as the beneficent, belongs to the "befana," the epiphany visitor who to italian children is the great gift-bringer of the year, the santa klaus of the south. "delightful," say countess martinengo, "as are the treasures she puts in their shoes when satisfied with their behaviour, she is credited with an unpleasantly sharp eye for youthful transgressions."{ } mothers will sometimes warn their children that if they are naughty the befana will fetch and eat them. to italian youngsters she is a very real being, and her coming on epiphany eve is looked forward to with the greatest anxiety. though she puts playthings and sweets in the stockings of good children, she has nothing but a birch and coal for those who misbehave themselves.{ } formerly at florence images of the befana were put up in the windows of houses, and there were processions through the streets, guys being borne about, with a great blowing of trumpets.{ } toy trumpets are still the delight of little boys at the epiphany in italy. the befana's name is obviously derived from _epiphania_. in naples the little old woman who fills children's stockings is called "pasqua epiphania,"[ ] the northern contraction not having been acclimatized there.{ } in spain as well as italy the epiphany is associated with presents for children, but the gift-bringers for little spaniards are the three holy kings themselves. there is an old spanish tradition that the magi go every year to bethlehem to adore the infant jesus, and on their way visit children, leaving sweets and toys for them if they have behaved well. on epiphany eve the youngsters go early to bed, put out their shoes on the window-sill or balcony to be filled with presents by the wise men, and provide a little straw for their horses.{ } it is, or was, a custom in madrid to look out for the kings on epiphany eve. companies of men go out with bells and pots and pans, and make a great noise. there is loud shouting, and torches cast a fantastic light upon the scene. one of the men carries a large ladder, and mounts it to see if the kings are | | coming. here, perhaps, some devil-scaring rite, resembling those described above, has been half-christianized.{ } in provence, too, there was a custom of going to meet the magi. in a charming chapter of his memoirs mistral tells us how on epiphany eve all the children of his countryside used to go out to meet the kings, bearing cakes for the magi, dried figs for their pages, and handfuls of hay for their horses. in the glory and colour of the sunset young mistral thought he saw the splendid train; but soon the gorgeous vision died away, and the children stood gaping alone on the darkening highway--the kings had passed behind the mountain. after supper the little ones hurried to church, and there in the chapel of the nativity beheld the kings in adoration before the crib.{ } at trest not only did the young people carry baskets or dried fruit, but there were three men dressed as magi to receive the offerings and accept compliments addressed to them by an orator. in return they presented him with a purse full of counters, upon which he rushed off with the treasure and was pursued by the others in a sort of dance.{ } here again the magi are evidently mixed up with something that has no relation to christianity. * * * * * we noted in chapter iv. the elaborate ceremonies connected in greece with the blessing of the waters at the epiphany, and the custom of diving for a cross. it would seem, as was pointed out, that the latter is an ecclesiastically sanctioned form of a folk-ceremony. this is found in a purer state in macedonia, where, after matins on the epiphany, it is the custom to thrust some one into water, be it sea or river, pond or well. on emerging he has to sprinkle the bystanders.{ } the rite may be compared with the drenchings of human beings in order to produce rain described by dr. frazer in "the magic art."{ } another greek custom combines the purifying powers of epiphany water with the fertilizing influences of the christmas log--round mount olympos ashes are taken from the hearth where a cedar log has been burning since christmas, and are baptized in the blessed water of the river. they are then borne | | to the vineyards, and thrown at their four corners, and also at the foot of apple- and fig-trees.{ } this may remind us that in england fruit-trees used to come in for special treatment on the vigil of the epiphany. in devonshire the farmer and his men would go to the orchard with a large jug of cider, and drink the following toast at the foot of one of the best-bearing apple-trees, firing guns in conclusion:-- "here's to thee, old apple-tree, whence thou may'st bud, and whence thou may'st blow! and whence thou may'st bear apples enow! hats full! caps full! bushel!--bushel--sacks full, and my pockets full too! huzza!"{ } in seventeenth-century somersetshire, according to aubrey, a piece of toast was put upon the roots.{ } according to another account each person in the company used to take a cupful of cider, with roasted apples pressed into it, drink part of the contents, and throw the rest at the tree.{ } the custom is described by herrick as a christmas eve ceremony:-- "wassail the trees, that they may bear you many a plum and many a pear; for more or less fruits they will bring, as you do give them wassailing."{ } in sussex the wassailing (or "worsling") of fruit-trees took place on christmas eve, and was accompanied by a trumpeter blowing on a cow's horn.{ } the wassailing of the trees may be regarded as either originally an offering to their spirits or--and this seems more probable--as a sacramental act intended to bring fertilizing influences to bear upon them. customs of a similar character are found in continental countries during the christmas season. in tyrol, for instance, when the christmas pies are a-making on st. thomas's eve, the maids are told to go out-of-doors and put their arms, sticky with paste, round the fruit-trees, in order that they | | may bear well next year.{ } the uses of the ashes of the christmas log have already been noticed. sometimes, as in the thurgau, mecklenburg, oldenburg, and tyrol, the trees are beaten to make them bear. on new year's eve at hildesheim people dance and sing around them,{ } while the tyrolese peasant on christmas eve will go out to his trees, and, knocking with bent fingers upon them, will bid them wake up and bear.{ } there is a slavonic custom, on the same night, of threatening apple-trees with a hatchet if they do not produce fruit during the year.{ } another remarkable agricultural rite was practised on epiphany eve in herefordshire and gloucestershire. the farmer and his servants would meet in a field sown with wheat, and there light thirteen fires, with one larger than the rest. round this a circle was formed by the company, and all would drink a glass of cider to the success of the harvest.[ ] this done, they returned to the farm, to feast--in gloucestershire--on cakes made with caraways, and soaked in cider. the herefordshire accounts give particulars of a further ceremony. a large cake was provided, with a hole in the middle, and after supper everyone went to the wain-house. the master filled a cup with strong ale, and standing opposite the finest ox, pledged him in a curious toast; the company followed his example with the other oxen, addressing each by name. afterwards the large cake was put on the horn of the first ox.{ } it is extremely remarkable, and can scarcely be a mere coincidence, that far away among the southern slavs, as we saw in chapter xii., a christmas cake with a hole in its centre is likewise put upon the horn of the chief ox. the wassailing of the animals is found there also. on christmas day, sir arthur | | evans relates, the house-mother "entered the stall set apart for the goats, and having first sprinkled them with corn, took the wine-cup in her hand and said, 'good morning, little mother! the peace of god be on thee! christ is born; of a truth he is born. may'st thou be healthy. i drink to thee in wine; i give thee a pomegranate; may'st thou meet with all good luck!' she then lifted the cup to her lips, took a sup, tossed the pomegranate among the herd, and throwing her arms round the she-goat, whose health she had already drunk, gave it the 'peace of god'--kissed it, that is, over and over again." the same ceremony was then performed for the benefit of the sheep and cows, and all the animals were beaten with a leafy olive-branch.{ } as for the fires, an irish custom to some extent supplies a parallel. on epiphany eve a sieve of oats was set up, "and in it a dozen of candles set round, and in the centre one larger, all lighted." this was said to be in memory of the saviour and his apostles, lights of the world.{ } here is an account of a similar custom practised in co. leitrim:-- "a piece of board is covered with cow-dung, and twelve rushlights are stuck therein. these are sprinkled with ash at the top, to make them light easily, and then set alight, each being named by some one present, and as each dies so will the life of its owner. a ball is then made of the dung, and it is placed over the door of the cowhouse for an increase of cattle. sometimes mud is used, and the ball placed over the door of the dwelling-house."{ } there remains to be considered under epiphany usages an ancient and very remarkable game played annually on january at haxey in lincolnshire. it is known traditionally as "haxey hood," and its centre is a struggle between the men of two villages for the possession of a roll of sacking or leather called the "hood." over it preside the "boggans" or "bullocks" of plough monday (see p. ), headed by a figure known as "my lord," who is attended by a fool. the proceedings are opened on the village green by a mysterious speech from the fool:-- "now, good folks, this is haxa' hood. we've killed two | | bullocks and a half, but the other half we had to leave running about field: we can fetch it if it's wanted. remember it's-- 'hoose agin hoose, toon agin toon, and if you meet a man knock him doon.'" then, in an open field, the hoods--there are six of them, one apparently for each of the chief hamlets round--are thrown up and struggled for. "the object is to carry them off the field away from the boggans. if any of these can get hold of them, or even touch them, they have to be given up, and carried back to my lord. for every one carried off the field the boggans forfeit half-a-crown, which is spent in beer, doubtless by the men of the particular hamlet who have carried off the hood." the great event of the day is the struggle for the last hood--made of leather--between the men of haxey and the men of westwoodside--"that is to say really between the customers of the public-houses there--each party trying to get it to his favourite 'house.' the publican at the successful house stands beer."{ } mr. chambers regards the fool's strange speech as preserving the tradition that the hood is the half of a bullock--the head of a sacrificial victim, and he explains both the haxey game and also the familiar games of hockey and football as originating in a struggle between the people of two villages to get such a head, with all its fertilizing properties, over their own boundary.{ } at hornchurch in essex, if we may trust a note given by hone, an actual boar's head was wrestled for on christmas day, and afterwards feasted upon at one of the public-houses by the victor and his friends.{ } one more feature of the haxey celebration must be mentioned (it points apparently to a human sacrifice): the fool, the morning after the game, used to be "smoked" over a straw fire. "he was suspended above the fire and swung backwards and forwards over it until almost suffocated; then allowed to drop into the smouldering straw, which was well wetted, and to scramble out as he could."{ } returning to the subject of football, i may here condense an | | account of a welsh christmas custom quoted by sir laurence gomme, in his book "the village community," from the _oswestry observer_ of march , :--"in south cardiganshire it seems that about eighty years ago the population, rich and poor, male and female, of opposing parishes, turned out on christmas day and indulged in the game of football with such vigour that it became little short of a serious fight." both in north and south wales the custom was found. at one place, llanwenog near lampeter, there was a struggle between two parties with different traditions of race. the bros, supposed to be descendants from irish people, occupied the high ground of the parish; the blaenaus, presumably pure-bred brythons, occupied the lowlands. after morning service on christmas day, "the whole of the bros and blaenaus, rich and poor, male and female, assembled on the turnpike road which divided the highlands from the lowlands." the ball was thrown high in the air, "and when it fell bros and blaenaus scrambled for its possession.... if the bros, by hook or by crook, could succeed in taking the ball up the mountain to their hamlet of rhyddlan they won the day, while the blaenaus were successful if they got the ball to their end of the parish at new court." many severe kicks were given, and the whole thing was taken so keenly "that a bro or a blaenau would as soon lose a cow from his cowhouse as the football from his portion of the parish." there is plainly more than a mere pastime here; the thing appears to have been originally a struggle between two clans.{ } * * * * * anciently the carnival, with its merrymaking before the austerities of lent, was held to begin at the epiphany. this was the case in tyrol even in the nineteenth century.{ } as a rule, however, the carnival in roman catholic countries is restricted to the last three days before ash wednesday. the pagan origin of its mummeries and licence is evident, but it is a spring rather than a winter festival, and hardly calls for treatment here. the epiphany is in many places the end of christmas. in calvados, normandy, it is marked by bonfires; red flames mount | | skywards, and the peasants join hands, dance, and leap through blinding smoke and cinders, shouting these rude lines:-- "Àdieu les rois jusqu'à douze mois, douze mois passés les bougelées."{ } another french epiphany _chanson_, translated by the rev. r. l. gales, is a charming farewell to christmas:-- "noël is leaving us, sad 'tis to tell, but he will come again, adieu, noël. his wife and his children weep as they go: on a grey horse they ride thro' the snow. * * * * * the kings ride away in the snow and the rain, after twelve months we shall see them again."{ } post-epiphany festivals. though with twelfth day the high festival of christmas generally ends, later dates have sometimes been assigned as the close of the season. at the old english court, for instance, the merrymaking was sometimes carried on until candlemas, while in some english country places it was customary, even in the late nineteenth century, to leave christmas decorations up, in houses and churches, till that day.{ } the whole time between christmas and the presentation in the temple was thus treated as sacred to the babyhood of christ; the withered evergreens would keep alive memories of christmas joys, even, sometimes, after septuagesima had struck the note of penitence. before we pass on to a short notice of candlemas, we may | | glance at a few last sparks, so to speak, of the christmas blaze, and then at the english festivals which marked the resumption of work after the holidays. in sweden yule is considered to close with the octave of the epiphany, january , "st. knut's day," the twentieth after christmas. "twentieth day knut driveth yule out" sing the old folks as the young people dance in a ring round the festive yule board, which is afterwards robbed of the viands that remain on it, including the yule boar. on this day a sort of mimic fight used to take place, the master and servants of the house pretending to drive away the guests with axe, broom, knife, spoon, and other implements.{ } the name, "st. knut's day," is apparently due to the fact that in the laws of canute the great ( - ) it is commanded that there is to be no fasting from christmas to the octave of the epiphany.{ } in england the day after the epiphany was called st. distaff's or rock day (the word rock is evidently the same as the german _rocken_ = distaff). it was the day when the women resumed their spinning after the rest and gaiety of christmas. from a poem of herrick's it appears that the men in jest tried to burn the women's flax, and the women in return poured water on the men:-- "partly work, and partly play you must on st. distaff's day: from the plough soon free your team, then come home and fother them; if the maids a-spinning go, burn the flax and fire the tow. * * * * * bring in pails of water then, let the maids bewash the men; give st. distaff all the right, then bid christmas sport good night; and next morrow, every one to his own vocation."{ } | | a more notable occasion was plough monday, the first after twelfth day. men's labour then began again after the holidays.{ } we have already seen that it is sometimes associated with the mummers' plays. often, however, its ritual is not developed into actual drama, and the following account from derbyshire gives a fairly typical description of its customs:-- "on plough monday the 'plough bullocks' are occasionally seen; they consist of a number of young men from various farmhouses, who are dressed up in ribbons.... these young men yoke themselves to a plough, which they draw about, preceded by a band of music, from house to house, collecting money. they are accompanied by the fool and bessy; the fool being dressed in the skin of a calf, with the tail hanging down behind, and bessy generally a young man in female attire. the fool carries an inflated bladder tied to the end of a long stick, by way of whip, which he does not fail to apply pretty soundly to the heads and shoulders of his team. when anything is given a cry of 'largess!' is raised, and a dance performed round the plough. if a refusal to their application for money is made they not unfrequently plough up the pathway, door-stone, or any other portion of the premises they happen to be near."{ } by plough monday we have passed, it seems probable, from new year festivals to one that originally celebrated the beginning of spring. such a feast, apparently, was kept in mid-february when ploughing began at that season; later the advance of agriculture made it possible to shift it forward to early january.{ } candlemas. nearer to the original date of the spring feast is candlemas, february ; though connected with christmas by its ecclesiastical meaning, it is something of a vernal festival.{ } the feast of the purification of the virgin or presentation of christ in the temple was probably instituted by pope liberius at rome in the fourth century. the ceremonial to which it owes its popular name, candlemas, is the blessing of candles in church and the procession of the faithful, carrying them lighted in their hands. during the blessing the "nunc dimittis" is chanted, | | with the antiphon "lumen ad revelationem gentium et gloriam plebis tuae israel," the ceremony being thus brought into connection with the "light to lighten the gentiles" hymned by symeon. usener has however shown reason for thinking that the candlemas procession was not of spontaneous christian growth, but was inspired by a desire to christianize a roman rite, the _amburbale_, which took place at the same season and consisted of a procession round the city with lighted candles.{ } the candlemas customs of the sixteenth century are thus described by naogeorgus: "then numbers great of tapers large, both men and women beare to church, being halowed there with pomp, and dreadful words to heare. this done, eche man his candell lightes, where chiefest seemeth hee, whose taper greatest may be seene, and fortunate to bee, whose candell burneth cleare and brighte; a wondrous force and might doth in these candells lie, which if at any time they light, they sure beleve that neyther storme or tempest dare abide, nor thunder in the skies be heard, nor any devils spide, nor fearefull sprites that walke by night, nor hurts of frost or haile."{ } still, in many roman catholic regions, the candles blessed in church at the purification are believed to have marvellous powers. in brittany, franche-comté, and elsewhere, they are preserved and lighted in time of storm or sickness.{ } in tyrol they are lighted on important family occasions such as christenings and funerals, as well as on the approach of a storm{ }; in sicily in time of earthquake or when somebody is dying.{ } in england some use of candles on this festival continued long after the reformation. in the bishop of durham gave serious offence by sticking up wax candles in his cathedral at the purification; "the number of all the candles burnt that evening was two hundred and twenty, besides sixteen torches; sixty of | | those burning tapers and torches standing upon and near the high altar."{ } ripon cathedral, as late as the eighteenth century, was brilliantly illuminated with candles on the sunday before the festival.{ } and, to come to domestic customs, at lyme regis in dorsetshire the person who bought the wood-ashes of a family used to send a present of a large candle at candlemas. it was lighted at night, and round it there was festive drinking until its going out gave the signal for retirement to rest.{ } there are other british candlemas customs connected with fire. in the western isles of scotland, says an early eighteenth-century writer, "as candlemas day comes round, the mistress and servants of each family taking a sheaf of oats, dress it up in woman's apparel, and after putting it in a large basket, beside which a wooden club is placed, they cry three times, 'briid is come! briid is welcome!' this they do just before going to bed, and as soon as they rise in the morning, they look among the ashes, expecting to see the impression of briid's club there, which if they do, they reckon it a true presage of a good crop and prosperous year, and the contrary they take as an ill-omen."{ } sir laurence gomme regards this as an illustration of belief in a house-spirit whose residence is the hearth and whose element is the ever-burning sacred flame. he also considers the lyme regis custom mentioned above to be a modernized relic of the sacred hearth-fire.{ } again, the feast of the purification was the time to kindle a "brand" preserved from the christmas log. herrick's candlemas lines may be recalled:-- "kindle the christmas brand, and then till sunne-set let it burne; which quencht, then lay it up agen, till christmas next returne. part must be kept wherewith to teend the christmas log next yeare; and where 'tis safely kept, the fiend can do no mischiefe there."{ } | | candlemas eve was the moment for the last farewells to christmas; herrick sings:-- "end now the white loafe and the pye, and let all sports with christmas dye," and "down with the rosemary and bayes, down with the misleto; instead of holly, now up-raise the greener box for show. the holly hitherto did sway; let box now domineere until the dancing easter day, or easter's eve appeare."{ } an old shropshire servant, miss burne tells us, was wont, when she took down the holly and ivy on candlemas eve, to put snow-drops in their place.{ } we may see in this replacing of the winter evergreens by the delicate white flowers a hint that by candlemas the worst of the winter is over and gone; earth has begun to deck herself with blossoms, and spring, however feebly, has begun. with candlemas we, like the older english countryfolk, may take our leave of christmas. | | | | conclusion the reader who has had patience to persevere will by now have gained some idea of the manner in which christmas is, and has been, kept throughout europe. we have traced the evolution of the festival, seen it take its rise soon after the victory of the catholic doctrine of christ's person at nicea, and spread from rome to every quarter of the empire, not as a folk-festival but as an ecclesiastical holy-day. we have seen the church condemn with horror the relics of pagan feasts which clung round the same season of the year; then, as time went on, we have found the two elements, pagan and christian, mingling in some degree, the pagan losing most of its serious meaning, and continuing mainly as ritual performed for the sake of use and wont or as a jovial tradition, the christian becoming humanized, the skeleton of dogma clothed with warm flesh and blood. we have considered, as represented in poetry and liturgy, the strictly ecclesiastical festival, the commemoration of the nativity as the beginning of man's redemption. we have seen how in the carols, the cult of the _presepio_, and the religious drama, the birth of the king of glory in the stable at midwinter has presented itself in concrete form to the popular mind, calling up a host of human emotions, a crowd of quaint and beautiful fancies. lastly we have noted the survival, in the most varied degrees of transformation, of things which are alien to christianity and in some cases seem to go back to very primitive stages of thought and feeling. an antique reverence for the plant-world may lie, as we have seen, beneath the familiar institution of the christmas-tree, some sort of animal-worship may be at the bottom of the | | beast-masks common at winter festivals, survivals of sacrifice may linger in christmas feasting, and in the family gatherings round the hearth may be preserved a dim memory of ancient domestic rites. christmas, indeed, regarded in all its aspects, is a microcosm of european religion. it reflects almost every phase of thought and feeling from crude magic and superstition to the speculative mysticism of eckhart, from mere delight in physical indulgence to the exquisite spirituality and tenderness of st. francis. ascetic and _bon-vivant_, mystic and materialist, learned and simple, noble and peasant, all have found something in it of which to lay hold. it is a river into which have flowed tributaries from every side, from oriental religion, from greek and roman civilization, from celtic, teutonic, slav, and probably pre-aryan, society, mingling their waters so that it is often hard to discover the far-away springs. we have seen how the reformation broke up the great mediaeval synthesis of paganism and christianity, how the extremer forms of protestantism aimed at completely destroying christmas, and how the general tendency of modern civilization, with its scientific spirit, its popular education, its railways, its concentration of the people in great cities, has been to root out traditional beliefs and customs both christian and pagan, so that if we would seek for relics of the old things we must go to the regions of europe that are least industrially and intellectually "advanced." yet amongst the most sceptical and "enlightened" of moderns there is generally a large residuum of tradition. "emotionally," it has been said, "we are hundreds of thousands of years old; rationally we are embryos"{ }; and many people who deem themselves "emancipated" are willing for once in the year to plunge into the stream of tradition, merge themselves in inherited social custom, and give way to sentiments and impressions which in their more reflective moments they spurn. most men are ready at christmas to put themselves into an instinctive rather than a rational attitude, to drink of the springs of wonder, and return in some degree to earlier, less intellectual stages of human development--to become in fact children again. | | many elements enter into the modern christmas. there is the delight of its warmth and brightness and comfort against the bleak midwinter. a peculiar charm of the northern christmas lies in the thought of the cold barred out, the home made a warm, gay place in contrast with the cheerless world outside. there is the physical pleasure of "good cheer," of plentiful eating and drinking, joined to, and partly resulting in, a sense of goodwill and expansive kindliness towards the world at large, a temporary feeling of the brotherhood of man, a desire that the poor may for once in the year "have a good time." here perhaps we may trace the influence of the _saturnalia_, with its dreams of the age of gold, its exaltation of them of low degree. mixed with a little sentimental christianity this is the christmas of dickens--the christmas which he largely helped to perpetuate in england. each nation, naturally, has fashioned its own christmas. the english have made it a season of solid material comfort, of good-fellowship and "charity," with a slight flavour of soothing religion. the modern french, sceptical and pagan, make little of christmas, and concentrate upon the secular celebration of the _jour de l'an_. for the scandinavians christmas is above all a time of sport, recreation, good living, and social gaiety in the midst of a season when little outdoor work can be done and night almost swallows up day. the germans, sentimental and childlike, have produced a christmas that is a very paradise for children and at which the old delight to play at being young again around the tree. for the italians christmas is centred upon the cult of the _bambino_, so fitted to their dramatic instincts, their love of display, their strong parental affection. (how much of the sentiment that surrounds the _presepio_ is, though religiously heightened, akin to the delight of a child in its doll!) if the germans may be called the good, industrious, sentimental children of europe, making the most of simple things, the italians are the lively, passionate, impulsive children, loving gay clothes and finery; and the contrast shows in their keeping of christmas. the modern christmas is above all things a children's feast, and the elders who join in it put themselves upon their children's | | level. we have noted how ritual acts, once performed with serious purpose, tend to become games for youngsters, and have seen many an example of this process in the sports and mummeries kept up by the elder folk for the benefit of the children. we have seen too how the radiant figure of the christ child has become a gift-bringer for the little ones. at no time in the world's history has so much been made of children as to-day, and because christmas is their feast its lustre continues unabated in an age upon which dogmatic christianity has largely lost its hold, which laughs at the pagan superstitions of its forefathers. christmas is the feast of beginnings, of instinctive, happy childhood; the christian idea of the immortal babe renewing weary, stained humanity, blends with the thought of the new year, with its hope and promise, laid in the cradle of time. | | | | | | notes and bibliography chapter i.--introduction . #g. k. chesterton# in #"the daily news,"# dec. , . . _ibid._ dec. , . . cf. #j. e. harrison, "themis: a study of the social origins of greek religion"# (cambridge, ), , . . or plural _weihnachten_. the name _weihnachten_ was applied in five different ways in mediaeval germany: ( ) to dec. , ( ) to dec. - , ( ) to the whole christmas week, ( ) to dec. to jan. , ( ) to the whole time from christmas to the octave of the epiphany. #g. bilfinger, "das germanische julfest"# (stuttgart, ), . . #a. tille, "die geschichte der deutschen weihnacht"# (leipsic, ), . [referred to as "d. w."] . #h. usener, "das weihnachtsfest"# (kap. i., bis. iii. nd edition, bonn, ), f. . #l. duchesne, "christian worship: its origin and evolution"# (eng. trans., revised edition, london, ), f. . #j. hastings, "encyclopædia of religion and ethics"# (edinburgh, ), iii. f. . #e. k. chambers, "the mediaeval stage"# (oxford, ), i. . [referred to as "m. s."] . #a. tille, "yule and christmas: their place in the germanic year"# (london, ), . [referred to as "y. & c."] . _ibid._ . . tille, "d. w.," . . tille, "y. & c.," . . #k. lake# in hastings's "encyclopædia" and in #"the guardian,"# dec. , ; #f. c. conybeare#, preface to #"the key of truth, a manual of the paulician church of armenia"# (oxford, ), clii. f.; usener, f. . usener, f. . _ibid._ ; #j. e. harrison, "prolegomena to the study of greek religion"# (cambridge, ), . . harrison, "prolegomena," f., f., . | | . #lake#, and #g. rietschel, "weihnachten in kirche, kunst and volksleben"# (bielefeld and leipsic, ), . . conybeare, lxxviii. . #a. lupi, "dissertazioni, lettere ed altre operette"# (faenza, ), i. f., mentioned in article "nativity" in #t. k. cheyne's "encyclopædia biblica"# (london, ), iii. . . chambers, "m. s.," i. . . _ibid._ i. ; #f. cumont, "the monuments of mithra"# (eng. trans., london, ), . . #g. negri, "julian the apostate"# (eng. trans., london, ), i. f. . chambers, "m. s.," i. . . duchesne, "christian worship," . . tille, "y. & c.," . part i.--the christian feast chapter ii.--christmas poetry (i) . see especially for latin, german, and english hymnody #j. julian, "a dictionary of hymnology"# (new edition, london, ), and the #historical edition of "hymns ancient and modern"# (london, ). . #h. c. beeching, "a book of christmas verse"# (london, ), . . beeching, . . #a. gastoué, "noël"# (paris, ), . . #r. w. church, "st. anselm"# (london, ), . . _ibid._ f. . #w. r. w. stephens, "the english church from the norman conquest to the accession of edward i."# (london, ), . . #w. sandys, "christmastide: its history, festivities, and carols"# (london, n.d.), ; #e. rickert, "ancient english carols. mcccc-mdcc"# (london, ), . . for the franciscan influence on poetry and art see: #vernon lee, "renaissance fancies and studies"# (london, ); #h. thode, "franz von assisi und die anfänge der kunst der renaissance in italien"# (berlin, ); #a. macdonell, "sons of francis"# (london, ); #j. a. symonds, "the renaissance in italy. italian literature,"# part i. (new edition, london, ). . #thomas of celano, "lives of st. francis"# (eng. trans. by a. g. ferrers howell, london, ), . . #p. robinson, "writings of st. francis"# (london, ), . . #"le poesie spirituali del b. jacopone da todi,"# con annotationi di fra francesco tresatti (venice, ), . . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ . . #"stabat mater speciosa,"# trans. and ed. by j. m. neale (london, ). | | . for german christmas poetry see, besides julian: #hoffmann von fallersleben, "geschichte des deutschen kirchenliedes bis auf luthers zeit"# ( nd edition, hanover, ); #p. wackernagel, "das deutsche kirchenlied"# (leipsic, ); and #c. winkworth, "christian singers of germany"# (london, n.d.). . #r. m. jones, "studies in mystical religion"# (london, ), , . . #"meister eckharts schriften und predigten,"# edited by h. buttner (leipsic, ), i. . . translation by c. winkworth, "christian singers," . german text in wackernagel, ii. f. . #"deutsches weihnachtsbuch"# (hamburg-grossborstel, ), . . #"a compendious book of godly and spiritual songs,"# reprinted from the edition of by a. f. mitchell (edinburgh and london, ), . this translation is abridged and protestantized. the mediaeval german text, which is partly addressed to the virgin, is given in #hoffmann von fallersleben, "in dulci jubilo"# (hanover, ), . for the music see #g. r. woodward, "the cowley carol book"# (new edition, london, ), f. [a work peculiarly rich in old german airs]. . #k. weinhold, "weihnacht-spiele und lieder aus süddeutschland und schlesien"# ( nd edition, vienna, ), . . _ibid._ . [for help in the translation of german dialect i am indebted to dr. m. a. mügge.] . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ . . e. k. chambers, essay on "some aspects of mediæval lyric" in #"early english lyrics,"# chosen by #e. k. chambers and f. sidgwick# (london, ), . [twenty-five of awdlay's carols were printed by messrs. #chambers and sidgwick# in #"the modern language review"# (cambridge), oct., , and jan., .] . _ibid._ . . quoted by #j. j. jusserand, "a literary history of the english people"# ( nd edition, london, ), i. . . rickert, ; beeching, . . no. lv. in chambers and sidgwick, "early english lyrics." . no. lix., _ibid._ . no. lxi., _ibid._ . no. lxx., _ibid._ . no. lxvii., _ibid._ . no. lxiii., _ibid._ . rickert, . chapter iii.--christmas poetry (ii) . #noël hervé, "les noëls français"# (niort, ), gastoué, f.; #g. gregory smith, "the transition period"# (edinburgh and london, ), . . gregory smith, . . #h. lemeignen, "vieux noëls composés en l'honneur de la naissance de notre-seigneur jésus-christ"# (nantes, ), iii. f. . _ibid._ i. , . . _ibid._ ii. , . . hervé, . . lemeignen, i. . | | . lemeignen, i. . . #"les vieux noëls,"# in #"nouvelle bibliothèque populaire"# (published by henri gautier, quai des grands augustins, paris). . lemeignen, i. . . #h. j. l. j. massé, "a book of old carols"# (london, ), i. . . hervé, . . lemeignen, i. . . "hymns ancient and modern" (historical edition), . translation is no. in ordinary edition. . hervé, . . a great number of these _villancicos_ and _romances_ may be found in #justo de sancha, "romancero y cancionero sagrados"# (madrid, , vol. of rivadeneyra's library of spanish authors), and there are some good examples in #j. n. böhl de faber, "rimas antiguas castellanas"# (hamburg, ). . böhl de faber, ii. . . #f. caballero, "elia y la noche de navidad"# (leipsic, ), . . #a. de gubernatis, "storia comparata degli usi natalizi"# (milan, ), . . these three verses are taken from #countess martinengo-cesaresco's# charming translation of the poem, in her #"essays in the study of folk-songs"# (london, ), f. . martinengo, "folk-songs," f. . latin text in tille, "d. w.," ; italian game in de gubernatis, . . hervé, f. . #w. hone, "the ancient mysteries described"# (london, ), . . _ibid._ . . see note . . #d. hyde, "religious songs of connacht"# (london, ), ii. f. . #"the vineyard"# (london), dec., , . . "deutsches weihnachtsbuch," f. . "a compendious book of godly and spiritual songs," f. (spelling here modernized); rickert, f. . "deutsches weihnachtsbuch," , and most german protestant hymnbooks. . translation by miles coverdale, in rickert, f. . no. in #paulus gerhardt, "geistliche lieder,"# ed. by p. wackernagel and w. tümpel ( th edition, gütersloh, ). . translation by #c. winkworth# in #"lyra germanica"# (new edition, london, ), ii. f. . "deutsches weihnachtsbuch," f. . translation (last verse altered) in #"the british herald"# (london), sept., , . . #"christmas carols new and old,"# the words edited by #h. r. bramley#, the music edited by #sir john stainer# (london, n.d.). . beeching, f. . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ f. | | . beeching, f. . #selwyn image, "poems and carols"# (london, ), . . #g. k. chesterton# in #"the commonwealth"# (london), dec., , . chapter iv.--christmas in liturgy and popular devotion . translation, "creator of the starry height," in "hymns a. and m." (ordinary edition), no. . . #j. dowden, "the church year and kalendar"# (cambridge, ), f. . #"rational ou manuel des divins offices de guillaume durand, Évèque de mende au treizième siècle,"# traduit par #m. c. barthélemy# (paris, ), iii. f. . see translation of the great o's in "the english hymnal," no. . . barthélemy, iii. f. . #d. rock, "the church of our fathers"# (london, ), vol. iii. pt. ii. . . #j. k. huysmans, "l'oblat"# (paris, ), . . gastoué, f. . #e. g. c. f. atchley, "ordo romanus primus"# (london, ), . . #"the pilgrimage of s. silvia of aquitaine"# (eng. trans. by j. h. bernard, london, ), f. . #s. d. ferriman# in #"the daily news,"# dec. , . . #g. bonaccorsi, "il natale: appunti d'esegesi e di storia"# (rome, ), . . gastoué, f. . bonaccorsi, . . #h. malleson and m. a. r. tuker, "handbook to christian and ecclesiastical rome"# (london, ), pt. ii. . . #th. bentzon, "christmas in france"# in #"the century magazine"# (new york), dec., , f. . #l. von hörmann, "tiroler volksleben"# (stuttgart, ), . . #m. j. quin, "a visit to spain"# ( nd edition, london, ), f. . #"madrid in ,"# by a #resident officer# (london, ), i. f. . #w. s. walsh, "curiosities of popular customs"# (london, ), . . #g. pitrè, "spettacoli e feste popolari siciliane"# (palermo, ), . . tille, "d. w.," f. . #f. h. woods, "sweden and norway"# (london, ), ; #l. lloyd, "peasant life in sweden"# (london, ), f. . #j. e. vaux, "church folklore"# (london, ), f. . #m. trevelyan, "folk-lore and folk-stories of wales"# (london, ), . . vaux, f. . #r. f. littledale, "offices from the service-books of the holy eastern church"# (london, ), f. . #[sir] a. j. evans, "christmas and ancestor worship in the black mountain,"# in #"macmillan's magazine"# (london), vol. xliii., , . . duchesne, . . chambers, "m. s.," i. . . #"the roman breviary,"# translated by #john, marquess of bute# (new edition edinburgh and london, ), . . see announcement in #"the roman mail"# in jan., . | | . #mary hamilton, "greek saints and their festivals"# (london, ), f. . #h. holloway, "an eastern epiphany service"# in #"pax"# (the magazine of the caldey island benedictines), dec., . . hamilton, f. . holloway, as above. . #f. h. e. palmer, "russian life in town and country"# (london, ), f. . thomas of celano, trans. by howell, f. . #countess martinengo-cesaresco, "puer parvulus"# in #"the outdoor life in the greek and roman poets"# (london, ), . . chambers, "m. s.," ii. . . bonaccorsi, ; usener, . . usener, . . _ibid._ , . . rietschel, . . _ibid._ f. . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ f.; tille, "d. w.," f. . music from #trier "gesangbuch"# ( ), no. , where a very much weakened text is given. text from weinhold, . another form of the air is given in "the cowley carol book," no. . . text and music in massé, i. . . tille, "d. w.," . . _ibid._ f. . _ibid._ . . #thomas naogeorgus, "the popish kingdome,"# englyshed by barnabe googe, (ed. by r. c. hope, london, ), . . tille, "d. w.," . . _ibid._ . . hörmann, "tiroler volksleben," . . _ibid._ . . tille, "d. w.," . . rietschel, . . martinengo, "outdoor life," . . #lady morgan, "italy"# (new edition, london, ), iii. . . #matilde serao, "la madonna e i santi"# (naples, ), f. . #l. caico, "sicilian ways and days"# (london, ), f. . information kindly given to the author by mrs. c. g. crump. . information derived by the author from a resident in messina. . serao, _see_ note . . #w. h. d. rouse, "religious tableaux in italian churches,"# in #"folk-lore"# (london), vol. v., , f. . morgan, iii. f. . bonaccorsi, f. . #a. j. c. hare, "walks in rome"# ( th edition, london, ), . . martinengo, "outdoor life," ; bonaccorsi, f.; #r. ellis roberts, "a roman pilgrimage"# (london, ), f. . #h. j. rose, "untrodden spain"# (london, ), . . see note to chapter iii. | | . #t. f. thiselton dyer, "british popular customs"# (london, ), . . vaux, . . dyer, . . cf. chambers, "m. s.," i. . chapter v.--christmas drama . this account of the mediaeval christmas drama owes much to chambers, "the mediaeval stage," especially chaps. xviii. to xx., and to #w. creizenach, "geschichte des neueren dramas"# (halle a/s., ), vol. i., bks. ii.-iv. see also: #karl pearson#, essay on #"the german passion play"# in #"the chances of death, and other studies in evolution"# (london, ), ii. f.; #e. du méril, "origines latines du théâtre moderne"# (paris, ); #l. petit de julleville, "histoire du théâtre en france au moyen âge. i. les mystères"# (paris, ); and other works cited later. . chambers, "m. s.," ii. f. . _ibid._ ii. . . du méril, . . chambers, "m. s.," ii. . . text in du méril, f. . chambers, "m. s.," ii. . . _ibid._ ii. f. . on the english plays see: chambers, "m. s.," chaps. xx. and xxi.; #a. w. ward, "a history of english dramatic literature"# (london, ), vol. i. chap. i.; creizenach, vol. i.; #k. l. bates, "the english religious drama"# (london, ). . chambers, "m. s.," ii. , , . . #"ludus coventriae,"# ed. by j. o. halliwell (london, ), f. . #"york plays,"# ed. by l. toulmin smith (oxford, ), f. . #"the chester plays,"# ed. by t. wright (london, ), . . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ . . #"the towneley plays,"# ed. by george england, with introduction by a. w. pollard (london, ). the first shepherds' play is on p. f., the second on p. f. . text from chambers and sidgwick, "early english lyrics," f. . text in #t. sharp, "a dissertation on the pageants or dramatic mysteries anciently performed at coventry"# (coventry, ). . petit de julleville, ii. f and f. . _ibid._ ii. f.; #"les marguerites de la marguerite des princesses,"# ed. from the edition of by f. frank (paris, ), ii. f. . petit de julleville, i. . . _ibid._ i. . text in lemeignen, ii. f. . petit de julleville, i. f. . #p. sébillot, "coutumes populaires de la haute-bretagne"# (paris, ), . . martinengo, "folk-songs," xxxiii. f. in her essay, "puer parvulus," in "the outdoor life," f., the countess gives a charming description of a somewhat similar piedmontese play. . barthélemy, iii. f. | | . rietschel, f.; #o. von reinsberg-düringsfeld, "das festliche jahr"# ( nd edition, leipsic, ), f. . rietschel, f. . an interesting book on popular christmas plays is #f. vogt, "die schlesischen weihnachtspiele"# (leipsic, ). . weinhold, . . _ibid._ f. . _ibid._ f. . _ibid._ f. . see chambers, "m. s.," ii. f.; symonds, "renaissance," iv. , f.; #a. d'ancona, "origini del teatro italiano"# (florence, ), i. f. . d'ancona, "origini," i. f. . #a. d'ancona, "sacre rappresentazioni dei secoli xiv, xv e xvi"# (florence, ), i. f. . _ibid._ i. . . latin original quoted by d'ancona, "origini," i. , and chambers, "m. s.," ii. . . creizenach, i. . . #j. fitzmaurice-kelly, "a history of spanish literature"# (london, ), . . #juan del encina, "teatro completo"# (madrid, ), f., f. . see #g. ticknor, "history of spanish literature"# ( th american edition, boston, ), ii. f. . _ibid._ ii. . . #"archivio per lo studio delle tradizioni popolari"# (palermo and turin), vol. xxi., , . . pitrè, . . fernan caballero, "elia y la noche de navidad," f. . lloyd, f. . #h. f. feilberg, "jul"# (copenhagen, ), ii. f. . #e. cortet, "essai sur les fêtes religieuses"# (paris, ), . . sébillot, . . feilberg, ii. ; reinsberg-düringsfeld, f.; #t. stratilesco, "from carpathian to pindus: pictures of roumanian country life"# (london, ), f.; #e. van norman, "poland: the knight among nations"# (london and new york, rd edition, n.d.), ; #s. graham, "a vagabond in the caucasus. with some notes of his experiences among the russians"# (london, ), . . translation in #karl hase, "miracle plays and sacred dramas"# (eng. trans., london, ), ; german text in weinhold, . . hörmann, "tiroler volksleben," f. . graham, . . stratilesco, f. . _ibid._ f. . van norman, . . cortet, . . barthélemy, iii. f. . #madame calderon de la barca, "life in mexico"# (london, ), f. postscript . #e. underhill, "mysticism: a study in the nature and development of man's spiritual consciousness"# (london, ), . | | part ii.--pagan survivals chapter vi.--pre-christian winter festivals . #karl pearson#, essay on #"woman as witch"# in #"the chances of death and other studies in evolution"# (london, ), ii. . . cf. #j. g. frazer, "the dying god"# (london, ), . . #j. a. macculloch, "the religion of the ancient celts"# (edinburgh, ), . . frazer, "dying god," . . #e. anwyl, "celtic religion in pre-christian times"# (london, ), f. . _ibid._ ; cf. #e. k. chambers, "the mediaeval stage"# (oxford, ), i. f. [referred to as "m. s."] . #w. robertson smith, "lectures on the religion of the semites"# (new edition, london, ), . . chambers, "m. s.," i. ; #w. w. fowler, "the roman festivals of the period of the republic"# (london, ), . . #"the works of lucian of samosata"# (eng. trans. by h. w. and f. g. fowler, oxford, ), iv. f. . #john brand, "observations on popular antiquities"# (new edition, with the additions of sir henry ellis, london, chatto & windus, ), . . "works of lucian," iv. f. . _ibid._ iv. . . #j. g. frazer, "the golden bough"# ( nd edition, london, ), iii. f., and #"the magic art and the evolution of kingship"# (london, ), ii. f. . #w. w. fowler, "the religious experience of the roman people"# (london, ), , . . fowler, "roman festivals," , and "religious experience," ; #c. bailey, "the religion of ancient rome"# (london, ), . . chambers, "m. s.," i. f.; fowler, "roman festivals," . . quoted from #"libanii opera,"# ed. by reiske, i. f., by #g. bilfinger, "das germanische julfest"# (vol. ii. of "untersuchungen über die zeitrechnung der alten germanen," stuttgart, ), f. . "libanii opera," iv. f., quoted by bilfinger, f. . chambers, "m. s.," i. f., . . #a. tille, "yule and christmas"# (london, ), . [referred to as "y. & c."] . #j. c. lawson, "modern greek folklore and ancient greek religion"# (cambridge, ), f. cf. #m. hamilton, "greek saints and their festivals"# (london, ), . . chambers, "m. s.," ii. f. . latin text in chambers, "m. s.," ii. f. . _ibid._ i. . . tille, "y. & c.," f.; chambers, "m. s.," ii. f. | | . tille, "y. & c.," throughout; chambers, "m. s.," i. f.; #chantepie de la saussaye, "the religion of the ancient teutons"# (boston, ), . cf. #o. schrader#, in #hastings's "encyclopædia of religion and ethics"# (edinburgh, ), ii. f. . macculloch, "religion of the ancient celts," f. cf. chambers, "m. s.," i. , . . tille, "y. & c.," . . #[sir] a. j. evans, "christmas and ancestor worship in the black mountain,"# in #"macmillan's magazine"# (london), vol. xliii., , . . chambers, "m. s.," i. . . tille, "y. & c.," . . chambers, "m. s.," i. . . _ibid._ i. ; w. robertson smith, f. . frazer, "dying god," f. . see #n. w. thomas# in #"folk-lore"# (london), vol. xi., , f. . chambers, "m. s.," i. f. . w. robertson smith, f. . #j. e. harrison, "themis: a study of the social origins of greek religion"# (cambridge, ), . cf. #e. f. ames, "the psychology of religious experience"# (london and boston, ), f. . harrison, "themis," . . _ibid._ . . #s. reinach, "cultes, mythes, et religions"# (paris, ), i. . for the theory that totems were originally food-objects, see ames, f. . chambers, "m. s.," i. . . _ibid._ i. f., . . harrison, "themis," . . w. robertson smith, . . #bede, "historia ecclesiastica,"# lib. i. cap. . latin text in bede's works, edited by j. a. giles (london, ), vol. ii. p. . . frazer, "golden bough," iii. . . #jerome, "comm. in isaiam,"# lxv. . latin text in chambers, "m. s.," ii. . . chambers, "m. s.," i. . . latin text in chambers, "m. s.," ii. . . #bede, "de temporum ratione,"# cap. , quoted by chambers, i. . see also tille, "y. & c.," f., and bilfinger, , for other views. . frazer, "golden bough," iii. f. . see frazer, "magic art," i. . . cf. frazer, "golden bough," iii. f. . latin text in #h. usener, "religionsgeschichtliche untersuchungen,"# part ii. (bonn, ), f. see also #a. tille, "die geschichte der deutschen weihnacht"# (leipsic, ), f. [referred to as "d. w."] . #philip stubbs, "anatomie of abuses"# (reprint of rd edition of , edited by w. b. turnbull, london, ), . . quoted by #j. ashton, "a righte merrie christmasse!!"# (london, n.d.), f. . _ibid._ f. | | chapter vii.--all hallow tide to martinmas . #r. chambers, "the book of days"# (london, n.d.), ii. [referred to as "b. d."]; #t. f. thiselton dyer, "british popular customs"# (london, ), f. . #[sir] j. rhys, "lectures on the origin and growth of religion as illustrated by celtic heathendom"# (london, ), , #"celtic folklore: welsh and manx"# (oxford, ), i. . . tille, "y. & c.," f. . rhys, "celtic folklore," i. f. . #j. dowden, "the church year and kalendar"# (cambridge, ), f. . cf. #j. g. frazer, "adonis, attis, osiris"# ( nd edition, london, ), f. . #e. b. tylor, "primitive culture"# ( rd edition, london, ), ii. . . frazer, "adonis," . . _ibid._ f. . #p. sébillot, "coutumes populaires de la haute-bretagne"# (paris, ), . . #l. von hörmann, "tiroler volksleben"# (stuttgart, ), . . frazer, "adonis," . . #g. pitrè, "spettacoli e feste popolari siciliane"# (palermo, ), f. cf. #h. f. feilberg, "jul"# (copenhagen, ), i. . . #"notes and queries"# (london), rd series, vol. i. ; dyer, . . frazer, "adonis," . . dyer, f. . _notes and queries_, st series, vol. iv. ; dyer, . . #c. s. burne and g. f. jackson, "shropshire folk-lore"# (london, ), . . _ibid._ f. . quoted by dyer, . . #o. von reinsberg-düringsfeld, "das festliche jahr der germanischen völker"# ( nd edition, leipsic, ), . . #"archivio per lo studio delle tradizioni popolari"# (palermo), vol. viii. . . hörmann, "tiroler volksleben," f. . frazer, "adonis," f. . _ibid._ f. . evans, f. . dyer, . . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ . cf. chambers, "b. d.," ii. f. . dyer, . . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ f. . #s. o. addy, "household tales, with other traditional remains. collected in the counties of lincoln, derby, and nottingham"# (london and sheffield, ), . . _ibid._ . . #w. henderson, "folk lore of the northern counties of england and the borders"# ( nd edition, london, ), . . dyer, . . _ibid._ . | | . rhys, "celtic folklore," i. , "celtic heathendom," . . rhys, "celtic folklore," i. . . macculloch, "religion of the ancient celts," , . . rhys, "celtic heathendom," . . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ , "celtic folklore," i. . . macculloch, "religion of the ancient celts," . . brand, . . dyer, . . _ibid._ f. . frazer, "golden bough," iii. f. . burne and jackson, . . dyer, . . #j. grimm, "teutonic mythology"# (eng. trans. by j. s. stallybrass, london, - ), i. . . #k. weinhold, "weihnacht-spiele und lieder aus süddeutschland und schlesien"# (vienna, ), . . #u. jahn, "die deutschen opfergebräuche bei ackerbau und viehzucht"# (breslau, ), . . _ibid._ . . weinhold, . . dyer, . . _notes and queries_, st series, vol. i. ; dyer, . . weinhold, . . _ibid._ . . reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . chambers, "m. s.," i. . . dyer, . . feilberg, ii. f. . reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . #tacitus, "annales,"# lib. i. cap. , quoted by tille, "y. & c.," . . tille, "y. & c.," . . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ . . brand, f. . reinsberg-düringsfeld, f. for german martinmas feasting, see also jahn, f. . grimm, iv. , for danish custom; jahn, f., for german. . #"the folk-lore record"# (london), vol. iv., , ; dyer, . . macculloch, "religion of the ancient celts," . . reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . jahn, f. . _ibid._ ; reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . tille, "y. & c.," f. . reinsberg-düringsfeld, ; jahn, . . jahn, . . angela nardo-cibele in _archivio trad. pop._, vol. v. f., for venetia; pitrè, f., for sicily. . reinsberg-düringsfeld, . | | . jahn, . . _ibid._ f. . _ibid._ . . reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . weinhold, . . chambers, "m. s.," i. ; weinhold, ; tille, "d. w.," . . reinsberg-düringsfeld, illustration facing p. . . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ ; tille, "d. w.," f.; #w. mannhardt, "der baumkultus der germanen und ihrer nachbarstämme"# (berlin, . vol. i. of "wald- und feldkulte"), . . cf. mannhardt, "baumkultus," , and reinach, i. . . _archivio trad. pop._, vol. v. f., f. . mannhardt, "baumkultus," . chapter viii.--st. clement to st. thomas . dyer, . . _notes and queries_, st series, vol. viii. ; dyer, . . brand, f. . henderson, "folk lore of the northern counties," . . _notes and queries_, rd series, vol. iv. ; dyer, . . dyer, . . brand, . . _ibid._ . . _notes and queries_, nd series, vol. v. ; dyer, . . dyer, f. . reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . #j. n. raphael# in #"the daily express,"# nov. , . . dyer, . . _ibid._ . . tille, "d. w.," . . #b. thorpe, "northern mythology"# (london, ), iii. . . _ibid._ iii. . . reinsberg-düringsfeld, f. cf. grimm, iv. . . reinsberg-düringsfeld, . cf. thorpe, iii. . . reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . thorpe, iii. . . #f. s. krauss, "sitte und brauch der südslaven"# (vienna, ), . . #t. stratilesco, "from carpathian to pindus: pictures of roumanian country life"# (london, ), . . _ibid._ f. . reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . _ibid._ f. . _ibid._ . | | . #thomas naogeorgus, "the popish kingdome,"# englyshed by barnabe googe, (ed. by r. c. hope, london, ), . . #g. f. abbott, "macedonian folklore"# (cambridge, ), . . #p. m. hough, "dutch life in town and country"# (london, ), . . cf. frazer, "golden bough," iii. , and also the epiphany noise-makings described in the present volume. . reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . hörmann, "tiroler volksleben," f. . tille, "d. w.," . . chambers, "m. s.," i. . . hamilton, . cf. article on st. nicholas by professor anichkof in _folk-lore_, vol. v., , f. . reinsberg-düringsfeld, f. . tille, "d. w.," f.; reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . hörmann, "tiroler volksleben," f. . reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . weinhold, . . mannhardt, "baumkultus," . . weinhold, . . reinsberg-düringsfeld, f. . hörmann, "tiroler volksleben," f. . reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . _ibid._ . . chambers, "m. s.," i. . . #w. s. walsh, "curiosities of popular customs"# (london, ), f. cf. chambers, "b. d.," ii. . . feilberg, i. , . . _ibid._ i. f. . _ibid._ i. . . #l. caico, "sicilian ways and days"# (london, ), f. . feilberg, i. . . reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . _ibid._ f. . grimm, iv. . . feilberg, i. f. . _ibid._ i. . . n. w. thomas in _folk-lore_, vol. xi., , . . ashton, . . dyer, f. . reinsberg-düringsfeld, f. . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ . . dyer, . . _ibid._ f.; chambers, "b. d.," ii. . . abbott, . . _notes and queries_, nd series, vol. v. ; dyer, . | | chapter ix.--christmas eve and the twelve days . tille, "d. w.," f. . reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ ; weinhold, f. . evans, . . weinhold, . . tille, "y. & c.," . . reinsberg-düringsfeld, f. . _ibid._ f. . _ibid._ . . #w. r. s. ralston, "songs of the russian people"# ( st edition, london, ), f. . sébillot, . . walsh, . . burne and jackson, ; henderson, "folk lore of the northern counties," ; #sir edgar macculloch, "guernsey folk lore"# (london, ), ; thorpe, ii. . . walsh, . . henderson, "folk lore of the northern counties," . . macculloch, "guernsey folk lore," f. cf. for germany, grimm, iv. , . . grimm, iv. . . ralston, . . #a. le braz, "la légende de la mort chez les bretons armoricains"# (paris, ), i. f. . thorpe, ii. . . lloyd, . . feilberg, ii. f. . _ibid._ ii. . . bilfinger, . . feilberg, ii. f. . _ibid._ ii. f. . #a. f. m. ferryman, "in the northman's land"# (london, ), . . feilberg, ii. . . grimm, iv. , , , . . krauss, . . accounts of the carols used in little russia are given by mr. ralston, f., while those sung by the roumanians are described by mlle. stratilesco, f., and those customary in dalmatia by sir a. j. evans, f. . ralston, . . stratilesco, . . ralston, . . chambers, "m. s.," i. . . #shakespeare, "hamlet," act i. sc. .# . bilfinger, f. . henderson, "folk lore of the northern counties," . | | . tylor, i. . . #w. golther, "handbuch der germanischen mythologie"# (leipsic, ), f. . tille, "d. w.," . . henderson, "folk lore of the northern counties," . . macculloch, "guernsey folk lore," f. . burne and jackson, f., . . #r. t. hampson, "medii aevi kalendarium"# (london, ), i. . . grimm, iv. ; thorpe, ii. . . burne and jackson, . . _ibid._ ; macculloch, "religion of the ancient celts," . . #e. h. meyer, "mythologie der germanen"# (strassburg, ), ; golther, ; reinsberg-düringsfeld, f. . golther, . . meyer, f. . _ibid._ f. . grimm, iii. f. . _ibid._ i. , f. . reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . grimm, i. ; reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . _ibid._ . . meyer, ; grimm, i. . . reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . golther, . . reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . grimm, i. . . meyer, . . #r. h. busk, "the valleys of tirol"# (london, ), . . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ . . the details given about the _kallikantzaroi_ are taken, unless otherwise stated, from lawson, f. . abbott, . . hamilton, f. . _ibid._ . . abbott, . . _ibid._ f. . meyer, f. . #g. henderson, "survivals of belief among the celts"# (glasgow, ), . . _ibid._ . . #f. h. e. palmer, "russian life in town and country"# (london, ), . chapter x.--the yule log . evans, f.; mannhardt, "baumkultus," f. cf. the account of the servian christmas in #chedo mijatovitch, "servia and the servians"# (london, ), f. . same sources. | | . mannhardt, "baumkultus," . . frazer, "magic art," ii. . . _ibid._ ii. . . evans, , , and . . _ibid._ . . mannhardt, "baumkultus," . . cf. frazer, "magic art," ii. . . _ibid._ ii. f. . mannhardt, "baumkultus," f. . #"memoirs of mistral"# (eng. trans. by c. e. maud, london, ), f. . mannhardt, "baumkultus," f. . sébillot, . . #a. de gubernatis, "storia comparata degli usi natalizi"# (milan, ), . . c. casati in _archivio trad. pop._, vol. vi. f. . jahn, . . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ . . brand, ; dyer, . . #[sir] g. l. gomme, "folk lore relics of early village life"# (london ), . . ashton, . . burne and jackson, . . _ibid._ f. . _notes and queries_, st series, vol. iv. ; dyer, f. . #"the gentleman's magazine,"# , . . hampson, i. . . feilberg, i. f. . _ibid._ i. . . _ibid._ ii. f. chapter xi.--the christmas-tree, decorations, and gifts . #i. a. r. wylie, "my german year"# (london, ), . . #mrs. a. sidgwick, "home life in germany"# (london, ), . . tille, "d. w.," . for the history and associations of the christmas-tree see also #e. m. kronfeld, "der weihnachtsbaum"# (oldenburg, ). . tille, "d. w.," . . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ f. . #g. rietschel, "weihnachten in kirche, kunst und volksleben"# (bielefeld and leipsic, ), . . _ibid._, . . tille, "d. w.," . . rietschel, . . _ibid._ . . tille, "d. w.," . | | . dyer, ; e. m. leather, #"the folk-lore of herefordshire"# (london, ), . . rietschel, . . ashton, . . _ibid._ . . tille, "d. w.," . . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ ; rietschel, . . information supplied by the rev. e. w. lummis, who a few years ago was a pastor in the münsterthal. . #l. macdonald# in #"the pall mall gazette"# (london), dec. , . . tille, "y. & c.," . . _ibid._ f. . rietschel, . . tille, "y. & c.," . . _ibid._ f.; chambers, "b. d.," ii. . . latin text in chambers, "m. s.," ii. . . mannhardt, "baumkultus," . . frazer, "magic art," ii. . . mannhardt, "baumkultus," . . _ibid._ ; reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . lloyd, . . dyer, . . #w. f. dawson, "christmas: its origin and associations"# (london, ), . . harrison, "themis," . . frazer, "magic art," ii. f. . frazer, "magic art," ii. . . mannhardt, "baumkultus," f. . chambers, "m. s.," i. . . latin text, _ibid._ ii. . . #j. stow, "a survay of london,"# edited by henry morley (london, ), . . chambers, "m. s.," i. . . grimm, iii. ; frazer, "golden bough," iii. ; macculloch, "religion of the ancient celts," , . . macculloch, "religion of the ancient celts," f. . grimm, iii. . . burne and jackson, ; #laisnel de la salle, "croyances et légendes du centre de la france"# (paris, ), i. . . frazer, "golden bough," iii. f. . #washington irving, "the sketch-book"# (revised edition, new york, ), . . _notes and queries_, th series, vol. viii. . . reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . henderson, "folk lore of the northern counties," . . burne and jackson, . . henderson, "folk lore of the northern counties," . . #e. k. chambers and f. sidgwick, "early english lyrics"# (london, ), ; #e. rickert, "ancient english carols"# (london, ), . | | . rickert, . . burne and jackson, f., , . . lloyd, . . van norman, . . evans, . . van norman, f. . frazer, "golden bough," ii. f. . grimm, iv. . . chambers, "m. s.," i. . cf. tille, "y. & c.," . . reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . tille, "d. w.," . . _ibid._ . . bilfinger, . . #th. bentzon, "christmas in france"# in #"the century magazine"# (new york), dec., , . . feilberg, ii. f. . pitrè, , . . feilberg, i. ; reinsberg-düringsfeld, f.; wylie, f. . lloyd, . . #w. sandys, "christmas carols, ancient and modern"# (london, ), xcv. . walsh, f.; ashton, f. chapter xii.--christmas feasting and sacrificial survivals . chambers, "m. s.," i. . . rickert, . . #w. sandys, "christmastide: its history, festivities, and carols"# (london, n.d.), . . chambers, "m. s.," i. . . #j. a. h. murray, "a new english dictionary"# (oxford, , &c.) iv. ( ) . . addy, . . dawson, . . addy, . . burne and jackson, . . brand, . . cf. _folk-lore_, vol. xi., , . . addy, . . cf. carols in brand, , and rickert, f. . brand, . . dyer, . . feilberg, i. , ; lloyd, . . jahn, . . stratilesco, . . ralston, , . . mijatovich, . . jahn, . . rietschel, . cf. weinhold, , and reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . sébillot, . | | . laisnel, i. f. . _ibid._ i. f. . _ibid._ i. . . #e. cortet, "essai sur les fêtes religieuses"# (paris, ), . . frazer, "golden bough," ii. f. . #m. höfler, "weihnachtsgebäcke. eine vergleichende studie der germanischen gebildbrote zur weihnachtszeit"# in #"zeitschrift für österreichische volkskunde,"# jahrg. , supplement-heft (vienna, ). . jahn, f. . burne and jackson, f. . #"the mirror of perfection,"# trans. by sebastian evans (london, ), . . mannhardt, "baumkultus," f. . lloyd, f. . jahn, . . _ibid._ . . lloyd, . . evans, f.; for the ox-custom, see evans, . . abbott, . . hörmann, "tiroler volksleben," f., , . . dawson, . . #s. graham, "a vagabond in the caucasus. with some notes of his experiences among the russians"# (london, ), f. . stratilesco, . . van norman, f. . jahn, . . frazer, "golden bough," ii. f., where other examples, british and continental, of the wren-hunt are given. cf. dyer, f. . _folk-lore_, vol. xviii., , f. . macculloch, "religion of the ancient celts," . . see frazer, "golden bough," ii. , , for examples of similar practices with sacred animals. . _folk-lore_, vol. xi., , . . brand, . . _folk-lore_, vol. xi., , . . lloyd, f. . _ibid._ . . thorpe, ii. f. . ralston, . chapter xiii.--masking, the mummers' play, the feast of fools, and the boy bishop . chambers, "m. s.," i. f. . #the works of ben jonson#, ed. by barry cornwall (london, ), . . #shakespeare, "henry viii.,"# act i. sc. iv. . chambers, "m. s.," i. f. . _ibid._ i. , . . _ibid._ i. . cf. burne and jackson, . . for a bibliography of texts of the mummers' plays see chambers, "m. s.," i. f. | | . this account of the plays and dances is based upon chambers, "m. s.," i. f. (chapters ix. and x.). . #tacitus, "germania,"# cap. xxiv. (eng. trans. by w. hamilton fyfe, oxford, ). . cf. harrison, "themis," f. . professor gilbert murray in "themis," f. . harrison, "themis," . . chambers, "m. s.," i. . . chambers, "m. s.," i. , f. . _ibid._ i. f. . lawson, f. . _notes and queries_, th series, vol. x. . . this account of the feast of fools and the boy bishop is mainly derived from chambers, "m. s.," i. - , and from #mr. a. f. leach's# article, #"the schoolboys' feast,"# in #"the fortnightly review"# (london), vol. lix., , f. . chambers, "m. s.," i. . . full text in chambers, "m. s.," ii. f. . chambers, "m. s.," i. f. . #"two sermons preached by the boy bishop at st. paul's,"# ed. by j. g. nichols, with an introduction by e. f. rimbault (london, printed for the camden society, ). . _ibid._ . . quoted by #f. j. snell, "the customs of old england"# (london, ), . . chambers, "m. s.," i. . . #j. aubrey, "remaines of gentilisme and judaisme"# ( - ), ed. by j. britten (london, ), f. . chambers, "m. s.," i. . . feilberg, ii. . chapter xiv.--st. stephen's, st. john's, and holy innocents' days . hörmann, "tiroler volksleben," f. . dyer, . . #l. von hörmann, "das tiroler bauernjahr"# (innsbruck, ), . . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ f. . feilberg, i. . . mannhardt, "baumkultus," . . feilberg, i. . . mannhardt, "baumkultus," f. . _ibid._ f.; feilberg, i. f.; lloyd, f. . #h. c. beeching, "a book of christmas verse"# (london, ), f. . mannhardt, "baumkultus," . . henderson, "folk lore of the northern counties," . . jahn, f. . _ibid._ f. . _ibid._ . | | . dyer, f. . _ibid._ ; brand, . . mannhardt, "baumkultus," f. . _ibid._ f. . _ibid._ . . frazer, "golden bough," iii. f. chapter xv.--new year's day . rhys, "celtic folklore," i. f. . henderson, "folk lore of the northern counties," . . #e. thurston, "omens and superstitions of southern india"# (london, ), f. . walsh, . . wylie, . . sébillot, . . #a. maurice low, "the american people"# (london, ), ii. . . walsh, f. . evans, . . burne and jackson, f. . _notes and queries_, th series, vol. iii. . . information given by the rev. e. j. hardy, formerly chaplain to the forces at hongkong. . frazer, "golden bough," iii. f. . burne and jackson, . . grimm, iv. . . harrison, "themis," . . henderson, "folk lore of the northern counties," f. . addy, . . g. hastie in _folk-lore_, vol. iv., , f. . j. e. crombie in same volume, f. . addy, ; burne and jackson, ; rhys, "celtic folklore," i. . . rhys, "celtic folklore," i. . . _ibid._ f.; w. henderson, . cf. _folk-lore_, vol. iii., , f.; vol. iv., , f. . hastie (see note ), . . walsh, . . hastie, . . chambers, "b. d.," i. . . _ibid._ ii. f.; _notes and queries_, nd series, vol. ix., ; dyer, . . ashton, . . hörmann, "tiroler volksleben," f. . #j. g. campbell, "witchcraft and second sight in the highlands and islands of scotland"# (glasgow, ), . cf. the account given by dr. johnson, in brand, . . henderson, "survivals of belief among the celts," f. . #r. chambers, "popular rhymes of scotland"# (edinburgh, ), , and "b. d.," ii. . | | . "new english dictionary," v. ( ) . . cortet, . . sébillot, . . _ibid._ . . macculloch, "guernsey folk lore," . . abbott, f. . stratilesco, f. . hamilton, . . _ibid._ . . mannhardt, "baumkultus," f. . latin text from ducange in chambers, "m. s.," i. . . wylie, . . abbott, . . grimm, iv. . . sébillot, . . dyer, . . ashton, . . #a. macdonell, "in the abruzzi"# (london, ), . . abbott, . . ralston, . . #"the athenæum"# (london), feb. , ; _notes and queries_, st series, vol. v., . chapter xvi.--epiphany to candlemas . hörmann, "tiroler volksleben," f. . #leigh hunt, "the seer; or, common-places refreshed"# (london, ), part ii. . . beeching, f. . chambers, "m. s.," i. . . #e. pasquier, "les recherches de la france"# (paris, ), livre iv., chap. ix. p. . . cortet, . . _ibid._ . . _ibid._ . . #e. du méril, "origines latines du théâtre moderne"# (paris, ), f. . brand, . . #a. de nore, "coutumes, mythes et traditions des provinces de france"# (paris, ), . . reinsberg-düringsfeld, f.; brand, . . #matilde serao, "la madonna e i santi"# (naples, ), . . reinach, i. f. . abbott, . . _ibid._ . . frazer, "golden bough," iii. . . hörmann, "tiroler volksleben," ; reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . _ibid._ f. | | . stratilesco, . . reinsberg-düringsfeld, . . #countess martinengo-cesaresco, "essays in the study of folk-songs"# (london, ), . . #d. n. lees, "tuscan feasts and tuscan friends"# (london, ), . . _ibid._ . . serao, f. . #e. de olavarría y huarte, "el folk-lore de madrid,"# . [vol. ii. of "biblioteca de las tradiciones populares españolas" (seville, ).] . _ibid._ . . "memoirs of mistral," f. . nore, . . abbott, . . frazer, "magic art," i. f. . hamilton, . . brand, ; chambers, "b. d.," i. ; dyer, . . aubrey, . . brand, . . beeching, . . ashton, f. . hörmann, "tiroler volksleben," . . tille, "d. w.," . . hörmann, "tiroler volksleben," . . #w. s. lach-szyrma# in #"the folk-lore record"# (london), vol. iv., , . . brand, ; chambers, "b. d.," i. f.; dyer, f. several accounts have been collected by mrs. leather, "folk-lore of herefordshire," f. . evans, . . dyer, . . _folk-lore_, vol. v., , . . _ibid._ vol. vii., , f. . chambers, "m. s.," i. f. . w. hone, "every day book" (london, ), ii. . . _folk-lore_, vol. vii., , . . #[sir] g. l. gomme, "the village community"# (london, ), f. . busk, . . dawson, . . #"the nation"# (london), dec. , . . burne and jackson, . . lloyd, . . bilfinger, . . brand, f. . dyer, . . quoted from #"journal of the archæological association,"# vol. vii., , , by dyer, . . chambers, "m. s.," i. . . _ibid._ i. . . usener, f. . naogeorgus, . . sébillot, f. | | . hörmann, "tiroler volksleben," . . usener, . . brand, . cf. #g. w. kitchin, "seven sages of durham"# (london, ), . . _the gentleman's magazine_, , . . dyer, f. . quoted by dyer, , from #martin's "description of the western isles of scotland"# ( ), . . gomme, "folk-lore relics," . . brand, . . _ibid._ . . burne and jackson, . conclusion . e. clodd in presidential address to the folk-lore society, . see _folk-lore_, vol. vi., , . | | | | | | | | index abbots bromley, horn-dance at, abruzzi, all souls' eve in, ; "new water" in, "adam," drama, - adam and eve, their day, adam of st. victor, - "adeste, fideles," - advent, - ; "advent images," ; _klöpfelnächte_, - alexandria, pagan rites at, all saints' day, and the cult of the dead, , - all souls' day, and the cult of the dead, , , - alsace, christkind in, ; new year's "may" in, - alsso of brevnov, ambrose, st., - _amburbale_, amiens, feast of fools at, anatolius, st., hymn of, ancestor-worship, , - , , andrew, st., his day, , - , animals, carol of, ; ox and ass at the nativity, ; cult of, - ; masks of, - , - ; on christmas eve, - ; specially fed at christmas, ; wassailing, - ansbach, martinmas in, antwerp, soul-cakes at, ; st. martin at, - ; st. thomas's day at, apples, customs with, - , , ara coeli, rome, - ardennes, st. thomas's day in, armenian church, epiphany in, artemis and st. nicholas, aryan and pre-aryan customs, - aschenklas, , ashes, superstition about, ass, prose of the, - athens, new year in, aubrey, j., augury, , - , - , , , - augustine, st. (of canterbury), , aurelian, austria, christmas poetry in, - ; christmas drama in, - ; soul-cakes in, ; st. nicholas in, - ; st. lucia's eve in, ; st. thomas's eve in, ; frau perchta, etc., in, - , ; sylvester in, . _see also_ bohemia, carinthia, styria, tyrol awdlay, john, - bach, j. s., - baden, all souls' eve in, balder, baptism of christ, celebrated at epiphany, - , - barbara, st., her festival, bari, festival of st. nicholas at, barring out the master, bartel, basil, st., his festival, basilidians, basle, council of, bavaria, st. martin's rod in, ; christmas-trees in, - ; sacrificial feast in, ; st. john's wine in, beauvais, feast of the ass at, bede, venerable, , | | bees on christmas eve, befana, , , belethus, johannes, belgium, all souls' eve in, , ; st. hubert's day in, ; martinmas in, - ; st. catherine's day in, ; st. nicholas in, ; st. thomas's day in, bentzon, madame th., - berchta. _see_ perchta berlin, pyramids in, ; biscuits in, bernard, st., of clairvaux, berry, cake customs in, , bethlehem, christmas at, - , biggar, bonfires at, bilfinger, dr. g., birds fed at christmas, blindman's buff, boar's head, , bohemia, the "star" in, ; fifteenth-century christmas customs in, ; st. andrew's eve in, - ; st. thomas's eve in, - boniface, st., boy bishop, - , - ; connection with st. nicholas, - , - "breast-strip" rites, breviary, the roman, briid, brimo, brittany, herod play in, ; magi actors in, ; all souls' eve in, - ; christmas eve superstitions in, - , ; christmas log in, ; new year in, ; _aguillanneuf_ in, ; weather superstition in, brixen, cradle-rocking at, brixlegg, christmas play at, f. bromfield, cumberland, barring out the master at, brough, westmoreland, twelfth night tree at, brunnen, epiphany at, budelfrau, burchardus of worms, burford, christmas holly at, burghead, "clavie" at, burns, robert, "bush, burning the," buzebergt, byrom, john, caballero, fernan, - , , caesarius of arles, - , cakes, "feasten," ; soul, - ; st. hubert's, ; martin's horns, ; christmas, - , - ; twelfth night, - , ; st. basil's, calabrian minstrels, calamy, caligula, callander, hallowe'en at, cambridge, st. clement's day at, canada, christmas eve superstition in, candlemas, , - candles, on st. lucia's day, - ; yule, - cards, christmas, carinthia, st. stephen's day in, carnival, , carols, meaning of the word, - ; english sacred, - , - , - ; welsh, ; irish, - ; highland, catholicism and christmas, , celtic new year, , , , - , centaurs, cereal sacraments, - . _see also_ cakes chambers, mr. e. k., , , - , - , charlemagne, coronation of, charms, new year, , - , - cheshire, old hob in, ; poultry specially fed at christmas, chester plays, , - chesterton, mr. g. k., - childermas, children's festivals, - , - , - , - china, new year in, chios, christmas _rhamna_ in, christkind as gift-bringer, , , - christmas, pagan and christian elements in, - , - , - ; names of, - ; establishment of, - ; | | its connection with earlier festivals, - ; becomes humanized, - , - ; in poetry, - ; liturgical aspects of, - ; in popular devotion, - ; in drama, - ; its human appeal, - , - ; attracts customs from other festivals, , , - , ; decorations, , - ; feasting, - , - ; presents, - ; masking customs, - ; log, _see_ yule log christmas eve, - ; superstitions about the supernatural, - ; log customs, - ; fish supper on, - christmas-tree, , , - ; its origin, - christpuppe, chrysostom, church, dean, circumcision, feast of, , . _see also_ new year's day clement, st., his day, - cleobury mortimer, curfew at, clermont, shepherd play at, coffin, charles, communion, sacrificial, - "comte d'alsinoys," , - cornwall, hallowe'en custom in, ; blackbird pie in, ; childermas in, coventry plays, , - , cradle-rocking, - crashaw, - crib, christmas, - , - ; possible survivals in england, , crimmitschau, crivoscian customs, , - , , - croatia, st. andrew's eve in, ; christmas log customs in, _cronia_, dalmatia, yule log customs in, dancing, - , - , - , daniel, jean, , dannhauer, j. k., dasius, st., dead, feasts of the, , - , - , - , , - , decorations, evergreen, , , , denisot, nicholas, , - denmark, "star-singing" in, ; animal masks in, ; martinmas goose in, ; st. lucia's eve in, ; st. thomas's day in, - ; christmas eve superstitions in, - ; yule candles in, - ; christmas-tree in, ; pig's head eaten in, ; yule-bishop in, derbyshire, "kissing-bunch" in, ; plough monday in, devil, and beast masks, ; and flax, devon, "yeth hounds" in, ; "ashton faggot" in, ; wassailing fruit-trees in, dew, christmas, - dickens, charles, dinan, herod play at, dionysus, as child-god, ; winter festivals of, , dorstone, hallowe'en at, drama, christmas, in latin, - ; in english, - ; in french, , - ; in spanish, , - ; in german, - ; in italian, - , ; survivals of, - ; st. nicholas plays, , ; pagan folk-drama, - drinking customs, , , - , - , druids and mistletoe, duchesne, monsignor, , durham, candlemas at, - düsseldorf, martinmas at, dyzemas, eckhart, - , edinburgh, new year in, - _eiresione_, encina, juan del, england, christmas poetry in, - , - ; midnight mass in, ; possible survivals of the christmas crib in, , ; the nativity in the miracle cycles, - ; "souling" in, - ; hallowe'en in, - ; guy fawkes day in, - ; animal masks in, - ; | | martinmas in, ; st. clement's day in, - ; st. catherine's day in, - ; st. andrew's day in, - ; st. thomas's day in, - ; christmas eve superstitions in, ; yule log in, - ; yule candle in, ; pyramids and christmas-trees in, - , ; the holy thorn in, - ; evergreen decorations in, - ; christmas boxes in, ; christmas fare in, - ; sacrificial survivals and christmas games in, - ; mummers and sword-dancers in, - ; feast of fools in, ; boy bishop in, , - ; st. stephen's day in, , - ; holy innocents' day in, ; new year's day in, - , ; epiphany customs in, - , - ; candlemas in, , - ; rock day in, ; plough monday in, ephraem syrus, , epiphanius, epiphany, early history of the festival, - ; in the roman church, - ; in the greek church, - ; blessing of the waters at, - , , , ; italian religious ceremonies at, - ; in drama, - ; old german name for, ; folk customs on, ; twelfth night cakes and kings, - ; expulsion of evils, - ; the befana and the magi, - ; wassailing, - ; "haxey hood," - ; farewells to christmas, - erzgebirge, christmas plays in, , ; st. john's tree in, ; _pfeffern_ in, eschenloh, _berchten_ at, esthonians, all souls' day among, ethelred, laws of, etzendorf, st. martin's rod at, - evans, sir arthur, - eves, importance of for festival customs, expulsion rites, , - , , - , - , fabriano, gentile da, fare, christmas, - feasting, connected with sacrifice, - , ; at martinmas, - ; at christmas, - ; at new year, - ; at epiphany, - _feien_, feilberg, dr. h. f., , , - festivals, origin and purpose of, - ; relation of pagan and christian, - , - fire, not given out at christmas or new year, - , - ; bonfires, , - , - , , - ; new fire lit, ; christmas log and ancestor-worship, - ; the yule log and candle in western europe, - ; candlemas fires and lights, - "first-foots," , , - fish eaten on christmas eve, flagellants, flamma, galvano, - fletcher, giles, - florence, nativity plays at, ; befana at, fools, feast of, , - football, fowler, dr. w. warde, france, christmas poetry in, - ; midnight mass in, - ; christmas drama in, - , - ; all souls' eve in, - ; christmas eve superstitions in, - ; christmas log in, - ; christmas-tree in, ; harvest may in, ; presents brought by _le petit jésus_, ; christmas cakes in, - ; feast of fools in, - ; boy bishop in, ; innocents' day in, ; new year in, - ; _aguillanneuf_ in, - ; epiphany in, - , , - ; candlemas candles in, francis, st. (of assisi), and christmas, - , - , , frazer, dr. j. g., , , , , , , , frick, frau, frigg, friuli, all souls' day in, frumenty, games, christmas, - | | gaude, frau, - gautier, théophile, gay, geese-dancers, genealogy, chanting of the, george, st., in mummers' plays, - gerhardt, paul, - germanicus, germany, christmas established in, ; christmas poetry in catholic, - ; protestant hymns in, - ; christmas services in, - ; the crib and _kindelwiegen_ in, - ; christmas drama in, - ; "star-singing" in, ; roman customs in, ; pre-christian new year in, - ; soul-cakes in, ; the _schimmel_ and other animal masks in, - ; martinmas customs in, - ; st. andrew's eve in, - ; st. nicholas in, - , - ; st. thomas's eve in, ; christmas eve in, , ; twelve days superstitions in, - ; frau berchta, etc., in, - ; werewolves in, ; christmas log in, ; christmas-tree in, - , ; harvest may in, ; christmas presents in, - ; christmas fare in, - ; sacrificial relics in, ; st. stephen's day in, , - ; st. john's day in, - ; holy innocents' day in, ; new year in, , gilmorton, "christmas vase" at, glastonbury thorns, - "gloria in excelsis," , goethe, _goliards_, , gomme, sir laurence, - , goose, martinmas, ; christmas, gozzoli, benozzo, grampus, greece, epiphany ceremonies in, - , - , ; winter festivals of dionysus in, , ; _kallikantzaroi_ in, - , ; christmas log in, , ; _rhamna_ in chios, ; "christ's loaves" in, ; folk-plays in, - ; new year in, , greek church, epiphany in, , - ; christmas in, , - ; advent in, gregorie, gregory iii., gregory the great, letter to mellitus, , guernsey, christmas superstitions in, , ; _oguinane_ in, guisers, - guy fawkes day, , - _habergaiss_, _habersack_, hakon the good, , hallowe'en, , - hampstead, guy fawkes day at, hans trapp, hardy, mr. thomas, , harke, frau, harrison, miss jane, , - , "haxey hood," - herbert, george, herefordshire, hallowe'en in, ; pyramids in, ; holy thorn in, ; new year water in, ; epiphany and new year ceremonies in, herod plays, - , , , herrick, - , , , , - hertfordshire, pyramids in, hindu new year, höfler, dr., hogmanay, - holda, frau, - holland, the "star" in, ; martinmas in, - ; _rommelpot_ in, ; st. nicholas in, ; st. thomas's day in, holly, , - holy innocents' day, , , - , - horn-cakes, , hornchurch, boar's head at, horn-dance, horse, as a sacrificial animal, ; hobby-horse, hodening, and the _schimmel_, - ; customs on st. stephen's day, - | | howison, hubert, st., his day, hunt, leigh, - huysmans, j. k., hymns, latin, - , iceland, "yule host" in, image, prof. selwyn, "in dulci jubilo," - incense used for purification, , , - , - ireland, christmas carols in, - ; all souls' eve in, ; hallowe'en customs in, - ; martinmas slaughter in, - ; "hunting of the wren" in, ; holy innocents' day in, ; epiphany in, italy, christmas poetry in, - , ; _presepio_ in, - , - , ; christmas drama in, - , ; all souls' in, , ; martinmas in, ; christmas log in, ; santa lucia in, ; christmas fare in, , - ; epiphany in, ivy, , - jacopone da todi, , - , james, st., gospel of, jerome, st., jerusalem, christmas at, , - john, st., evangelist, his day, , - johnson, lionel, johnson, richard, jonson, ben, _julebuk_, julian the apostate, _julklapp_, - kalends of january, the roman festival, , , - , , ; made a fast, , - . _see also_ new year's day _kallikantzaroi_, - _kindelwiegen_, - king of the bean, , - "kissing-bunch," kissling, k. g., _klapperbock_, klaubauf, _klöpfelnächte_, - knecht ruprecht, , - kore, krampus, labruguière, epiphany in, lake, prof. k., , la monnoye, - lancashire, hallowe'en in, latin christmas poetry, - , , - , - lawson, mr. j. c., , lead-pouring, , , leather, mrs., , le moigne, lucas, - libanius, - , liberius, pope, , - lima, christmas eve at, lithuania, feast of the dead in, ; new year's eve in, log customs. _see_ yule log lombardy, christmas log in, london, greek epiphany ceremonies in, ; italian christmas in, - , ; christmas in, under puritans, ; german christmas in, ; boy bishop in, - ; new year in, , lord mayor's day, lord of misrule, lorraine, cake customs in, , - lucia, st., her festival, - , lucian, - ludlow, guy fawkes day at, lullabies, , - , - , - luther, martin, - , lyme regis, candlemas at, macedonia, christmas eve in, ; new year's eve in, , , ; _kallikantzaroi_ in, ; folk-play in, ; epiphany in, macée, claude, madrid, - , , magi in drama, - , - , - ; as present-bringers, magic, man, isle of, carol-singing in, ; _hollantide_ in, , , ; | | _fynnodderee_ in, ; "hunting of the wren" in, - _mana_, - mannhardt, w., - , - marguerite of navarre, marseilles, "pastorals" at, martin of braga, martin i., pope, martinengo-cesaresco, countess, , , martinmas, an old winter festival, , , , - ; its feasting customs, - ; its bonfires, - ; st. martin as gift-bringer, and his relation to st. nicholas, - , - , - masking customs, - , - , - , , , - , , - , - , mass, midnight, - ; the three christmas masses, - mechlin, martinmas at, mellitus, abbot, mexico, christmas drama in, michaelmas, milan, epiphany play at, - milton, mince-pies, minnesingers, "misterio de los reyes magos," mistletoe, - , mistral, frédéric, mithra, _modranicht_, monasticism and christmas, - mont-st.-michel, epiphany king at, montenegro, christmas log customs in, morgan, lady, - morris, william, morris-dancers, - mouthe, "de fructu" at, mummers' plays, - munich, bavarian national museum at, - ; christmas-tree at, ; st. stephen's day at, murillo, mythology, in relation to ritual, - , naogeorgus, , , naples, _zampognari_ at, ; _presepio_ at, - ; christmas plays at, ; epiphany at, _natalis invicti_, - , new year's day, in roman empire, , - , - ; opposed in character to christmas, - ; teutonic and celtic, , - , , - ; slav, ; january made a fast, , - ; customs attracted to january , , , , ; fire not given out, - , - ; charms, omens, and other customs, , - ; presents, - , - ; mistletoe connected with, nicea, council of, nicholas, st., his day related to martinmas, , - , - ; as patron of boys, , , of sailors, , ; his festival, - ; on christmas eve, - _noël_, origin of the name, ; the french carol, - normandy, "star-singing" in, ; innocents' day in, ; epiphany in, - northamptonshire, st. catherine's and st. andrew's days in, - ; dyzemas in, northumberland, holly in, norway, christmas established in, ; "star-singing" in, ; pre-christian yule festival in, ; animal masks in, ; christmas eve superstitions in, - ; yule candles in, - notker, nottinghamshire, hallowe'en customs in, ; christmas cake and wassail-bowl in, nuremberg, epiphany at, nuts, customs with, - , "o's," great, oak as a sacred tree, oberufer, christmas play at, , ocaña, f. de, - oesel, "yule boar" in, old hob, - | | otfrid of weissenburg, oxford, boars head at, palmer, mr. f. h. e., _parcae_, paris, christmas in, ; all souls' eve in, ; st. catherine's day in, ; christmas-tree in, ; new year in, ; feast of fools in, - paschal, françoise, - pasquier, Étienne, pearson, dr. karl, - pellegrin, abbé, pelzmärte, - , perchta, , - , perun, peterborough, st. catherine's day at, philocalian calendar, _pifferari_, pillersee, advent mummeries at, pliny, plough monday, plum-pudding, - _plygain_, poland, the "star" in, ; puppet-shows in, ; werewolves in, ; christmas straw in, ; christmas wafers in, _polaznik_, , , - presents, at the roman kalends, - , - ; on all souls' eve, ; at martinmas, - ; on st. nicholas's day, - ; at christmas, , , - ; at new year and other seasons, - ; at epiphany, _presepio._ _see_ crib "prophetae," protestantism, effects of, on christmas, , - , , , , - , - provence, remains of christmas drama in, , ; christmas log in, ; magi in, prudentius, puppet-plays, f. purification, feast of the. _see_ candlemas puritans, their attitude towards christmas, , , - , pyramids, quainton, blossoming thorn at, "raging host," , ragusa, christmas log customs at, ramsgate, hodening at, - _rauchnächte_, , - rhys, sir john, , , - ripon, st. clement's day at, ; yule candles at, ; candlemas at, risano, christmas log customs at, rolle, richard, rome, christmas established in, - ; pagan winter festivals in, - , - ; christmas services and customs in, - , - , - ; mediaeval new year _quête_ in, rossetti, christina, rouen, religious plays at, - , - roumania, the "star" in, ; christmas drama in, ; st. andrew's eve in, - ; christmas songs in, ; christmas fare in, , ; new year in, - ; epiphany in, russia, epiphany ceremonies in, , ; the "star" in, ; christmas eve in, - , ; fire superstitions in, ; christmas fare in, , ; christmas games in, ; mummers in, ; new year in, saboly, sacrifice, theories of, - ; connected with festivals, - ; survivals of, , - , - , , - salers, christmas king at, _samhain_, , sant' andrea della valle, rome, santa klaus, santa maria maggiore, rome, - , , - _saturnalia_, , , - , , schiller, _schimmel_ and _schimmelreiter_, - , , schoolboys' festival, - . _see also_ boy bishop scotland, christmas carols in, ; hallowe'en customs in, - ; sowens eaten in, ; "first-foot" in, - ; other new year customs in, - , - ; candlemas in, | | sedulius, coelius, sequences, - serao, matilde, serbs, christmas customs of, - , shakespeare, , shepherds in christmas drama, - , - , - shropshire, soul-cakes in, - ; guy fawkes day at ludlow, ; twelve days superstitions in, - , ; christmas brand in, ; christmas decorations in, - , ; "wigs" in, ; cattle specially fed at christmas, ; morris-dancers in, ; new year in, ; candlemas in, sicily, midnight mass in, ; christmas _novena_ in, - ; christmas procession at messina, ; christmas plays in, ; all souls' eve in, ; martinmas in, ; st. lucia's eve in, ; presents in, ; candlemas candles in, sidgwick, mr. f., , - sidgwick, mrs. alfred, silesia, _schimmel_ in, ; martinmas in, ; christmas eve in, ; animals specially fed at christmas, slav new year, - ; christmas songs and customs, - , - , , . _see also_ bohemia, crivoscia, poland, russia smith, w. robertson, - , - , - somersetshire wassailing, soul cakes, - south america, christmas in, southwell, - sowens eaten, , spain, christmas poetry in, - ; midnight mass in, - , ; the crib in, ; christmas drama in, , - , ; _turron_ in, ; epiphany in, - spervogel, spinning, during twelve days, - staffordshire, st. clement's day in, - "star-singing," - "stella," - , stephen, st., his festival, , , - stephens, dean, stow's "survay," strasburg, early christmas-trees at, - _strenae_, , - stubbes, philip, , styles, old and new, - styria, _habergaiss_ in, ; perchta in, ; st. john's wine in, sun, the, december as festival of, ; yule not connected with, - ; sun-charms, , , , suso, sussex, squirrel-hunting in, ; tipteerers in, ; wassailing fruit-trees in, swabia, pelzmärte in, - , sweden, christmas service in, ; "star-singing" in, ; animal masks in, ; st. lucia's day in, - ; christmas eve superstitions in, - ; yule log in, ; yule candles in, - ; christmas-trees in, , ; yule straw in, ; christmas presents in, - ; pig's head eaten in, ; dances in, - ; st. stephen's day in, - , ; "st. knut's day" in, swinburne, - swine as sacrificial animal, , switzerland, st. nicholas in, - ; christmas-tree in, ; birds fed at christmas, sword-dance, , - _sylvesterabend_, , tacitus, , tate, nahum, tauler, teme valley, "first-footing" in, tenby, _plygain_ at, ; st. clement's day at, tersteegen, gerhard, - tertullian, teutonic new year, - , , - thomas of celano, thomas, mr. n. w., thomas, st., his festival, - "thomassin'," thurston, mr. edgar, tieck, | | tille, dr. a., , , , - , - , tipteerers, tolstoy's "war and peace," tomte gubbe, tonquin, feast of the dead in, totemism, - tours, council of, , , towneley plays, , - trees, sacred, - , , - ; flowering at christmas, - ; christian symbols, - trest, epiphany at, trolls on christmas eve, - troppau, christmas eve at, troubadours, tübingen, cradle-rocking at, tuscany, christmas log in, tutilo of st. gall, twelfth night. _see_ epiphany twelve days, declared a festal tide, , ; variously reckoned, ; supernatural visitors on, - tylor, dr. e. b., tynan, katharine, tyrol, midnight mass in, ; the crib in, - ; cradle-rocking in, ; christmas drama in, ; "star-singing" in, ; all souls in, - , ; _klöpfelnächte_ in, ; st. nicholas in, ; st. lucia in, ; christmas eve in, , ; berchta in, - ; customs with fruit-trees in, ; christmas pie in, , - ; st. stephen's day in, - ; st. john's day in, ; epiphany in, ; carnival in, ; purification candles in, ubeda, j. l. de, uist, south, "breast-strip" in, united states, santa klaus in, ; new year in, usedom, usener, h., , valdivielso, j. de, vampires, - , - vaughan, henry, vega, lope de, - vegetation-cults, - venetia, martinmas in, , vessel-cup, villazopeque, - vosges mountains, all souls' eve in, wales, christmas carols in, ; _plygain_ in, ; soul-cakes in, - ; hallowe'en in, , - ; the "mari llwyd" in, ; "new water" carol in, - ; christmas football in, warnsdorf, st. nicholas play at, wassail-bowl, , - water, new year, - watts, isaac, - weather, ideas about, , _weihnacht_, origin of the name, werewolves, wesley, charles, westermarck, dr. e., westphalia, st. thomas's day in, whipping customs, - , - , "wild hunt," - wine, martinmas, ; st. john's and st. stephen's, - "wish hounds," wither, george, woden, , , , , women, their clothes worn by men at folk-festivals, , , ; unlucky at new year, - woolwich, st. clement's and st. catherine's days at, worcestershire. st. clement's day in, ; new year in, wormesley, holy thorn at, wren, hunting of, - wylie, miss i. a. r., "yeth hounds," york minster, mistletoe at, ; boy bishop at, york plays, , - yorkshire, possible survival of the crib in, ; frumenty, ale posset, and yule cakes in, ; "lucky bird" in, ypres, st. martin at, yule, origin of the name, , - "yule boar," yule log, , , - , , zacharias, pope, footnotes [ ] for an explanation of the small numerals in the text see preface. [transcriber's note: in this edition the numerals are enclosed in {curly brackets}, so they will not be confused with footnotes.] [ ] "christianity," as here used, will stand for the system of orthodoxy which had been fixed in its main outlines when the festival of christmas took its rise. the relation of the orthodox creed to historical fact need not concern us here, nor need we for the purposes of this study attempt to distinguish between the christianity of jesus and ecclesiastical accretions around his teaching. [ ] whether the nativity had previously been celebrated at rome on january is a matter of controversy; the affirmative view was maintained by usener in his monograph on christmas,{ } the negative by monsignor duchesne.{ } a very minute, cautious, and balanced study of both arguments is to be found in professor kirsopp lake's article on christmas in hastings's "encyclopædia of religion and ethics,"{ } and a short article was contributed by the same writer to _the guardian_, december , . professor lake, on the whole, inclines to usener's view. the early history of the festival is also treated by father cyril martindale in "the catholic encyclopædia" (article "christmas"). [ ] usener says , duchesne . [ ] the eastern father, epiphanius (fourth century), gives a strange account of a heathen, or perhaps in reality a gnostic, rite held at alexandria on the night of january - . in the temple of kore--the maiden--he tells us, worshippers spent the night in singing and flute-playing, and at cock-crow brought up from a subterranean sanctuary a wooden image seated naked on a litter. it had the sign of the cross upon it in gold in five places--the forehead, the hands, and the knees. this image was carried seven times round the central hall of the temple with flute-playing, drumming, and hymns, and then taken back to the underground chamber. in explanation of these strange actions it was said: "to-day, at this hour, hath kore (the maiden) borne the Æon."{ } can there be a connection between this festival and the eleusinian mysteries? in the latter there was a nocturnal celebration with many lights burning, and the cry went forth, "holy brimo (the maiden) hath borne a sacred child, brimos."{ } the details given by miss harrison in her "prolegomena" of the worship of the child dionysus{ } are of extraordinary interest, and a minute comparison of this cult with that of the christ child might lead to remarkable results. [ ] mithraism resembled christianity in its monotheistic tendencies, its sacraments, its comparatively high morality, its doctrine of an intercessor and redeemer, and its vivid belief in a future life and judgment to come. moreover sunday was its holy-day dedicated to the sun. [ ] this is the explanation adopted by most scholars (cf. chambers, "m. s.," i., - ). duchesne suggests as an explanation of the choice of december the fact that a tradition fixed the passion of christ on march . the same date, he thinks, would have been assigned to his conception in order to make the years of his life complete, and the birth would come naturally nine months after the conception. he, however, "would not venture to say, in regard to the th of december, that the coincidence of the _sol novus_ exercised no direct or indirect influence on the ecclesiastical decision arrived at in regard to the matter."{ } professor lake also, in his article in hastings's "encyclopædia," seeks to account for the selection of december without any deliberate competition with the _natalis invicti_. he points out that the birth of christ was fixed at the vernal equinox by certain early chronologists, on the strength of an elaborate and fantastic calculation based on scriptural data, and connecting the incarnation with the creation, and that when the incarnation came to be viewed as beginning at the conception instead of the birth, the latter would naturally be placed nine months later. [ ] cf. chap. xviii. of dr. yrjö hirn's "the sacred shrine" (london, ). dr. hirn finds a solitary anticipation of the franciscan treatment of the nativity in the christmas hymns of the fourth-century eastern poet, ephraem syrus. [ ] no. in "hymns ancient and modern" (ordinary edition). [ ] no. in "hymns ancient and modern" (ordinary edition). [ ] "come rejoicing, faithful men, with rapture singing alleluya! monarch's monarch, from a holy maiden springing, mighty wonder! angel of the counsel here, sun from star, he doth appear, born of maiden: he a sun who knows no night, she a star whose paler light fadeth never." (translation in "the english hymnal," no. .) [ ] "lords, by christmas and the host of this mansion hear my toast-- drink it well-- each must drain his cup of wine, and i the first will toss off mine: thus i advise. here then i bid you all _wassail_, cursed be he who will not say, _drinkhail!_" (translation by f. douce.) [ ] it is difficult to be sure of the authenticity of the verse attributed to jacopone. many of the poems in tresatti's edition, from which the quotations in the text are taken, may be the work of his followers. [ ] "come and look upon her child nestling in the hay! see his fair arms opened wide, on her lap to play! and she tucks him by her side, cloaks him as she may! gives her paps unto his mouth, where his lips are laid. * * * * * she with left hand cradling rocked and hushed her boy, and with holy lullabies quieted her toy.... little angels all around danced, and carols flung; making verselets sweet and true, still of love they sung." (translation by john addington symonds in "the renaissance in italy. italian literature" [ edn.], part i., .) [ ] "in the worthy stable of the sweet baby the angels are singing round the little one; they sing and cry out, the beloved angels, quite reverent, timid and shy round the little baby prince of the elect who lies naked among the prickly hay.... the divine verb, which is highest knowledge, this day seems as if he knew nothing of anything. look at him on the hay, crying and kicking as if he were not at all a divine man." (translation by vernon lee in "renaissance fancies and studies," .) [ ] "sweep hearth and floor; be all your vessel's store shining and clean. then bring the little guest and give him of your best of meat and drink. yet more ye owe than meat. one gift at your king's feet lay now. i mean a heart full to the brim of love, and all for him, and from all envy clean." (translation by miss anne macdonell, in "sons of francis," .) [ ] "full of beauty stood the mother, by the manger, blest o'er other, where her little one she lays. for her inmost soul's elation, in its fervid jubilation, thrills with ecstasy of praise." (translation by j. m. neale.) [ ] "a spotless rose is blowing, sprung from a tender root, of ancient seers' foreshowing, of jesse promised fruit; its fairest bud unfolds to light amid the cold, cold winter, and in the dark midnight. the rose which i am singing, whereof isaiah said, is from its sweet root springing in mary, purest maid; for through our god's great love and might the blessed babe she bare us in a cold, cold winter's night." (translation by c. winkworth, "christian singers," .) [ ] the tune is often used in england for neale's carol, "good christian men, rejoice." [ ] "when jesus christ was born, then was it cold; in a little crib he was laid. there stood an ass and an ox which breathed over the holy child quite openly. he who has a pure heart need have no care." [ ] "dearest mother, take care of the child; it is freezing hard, wrap him up quickly. and you, old father, tuck the little one up, or the cold and the wind will give him no rest. now we must take our leave, o divine child, remember us, pardon our sins. we are heartily glad that thou art come; no one else could have helped us." [ ] "the child is laid in the crib, so hearty and so rare! my little hans would be nothing by his side, were he finer than he is. coal-black as cherries are his eyes, the rest of him is white as chalk. his pretty hands are right tender and delicate, i touched him carefully. then he gave me a smile and a deep sigh too. if you were mine, thought i, you'd grow a merry boy. at home in the kitchen i'd comfortably house you; out here in the stable the cold wind comes in at every corner." [ ] richard rolle, poet, mystic, and wandering preacher, in many ways reminds us of jacopone da todi. though he has left no christmas verses, some lovely words of his show how deeply he felt the wonder and pathos of bethlehem: "jhesu es thy name. a! a! that wondryrfull name! a! that delittabyll name! this es the name that es above all names.... i yede [went] abowte be covaytyse of riches and i fand noghte jhesu. i satt in companyes of worldly myrthe and i fand noghte jhesu.... therefore i turnede by anothire waye, and i rane a-bowte be poverte, and i fande jhesu pure borne in the worlde, laid in a crybe and lappid in clathis."{ } [ ] "when midnight sounded i leapt from my bed to the floor, and i saw a beautiful angel who sang a thousand times sweeter than a nightingale. the watch-dogs of the neighbourhood all came up. never had they seen such a sight, and they suddenly began to bark. the shepherds under the straw were sleeping like logs: when they heard the sound of the barking they thought it was the wolves. they were reasonable folk; they came without waiting to be asked. they found in a little stable the light, even the truth." [ ] "within a poor manger and covered with hay lies jesus of nazareth. in the hay lies stretched the eternal son of god; to deliver from hell man whom he had created, and to kill sin, our jesus of nazareth is content with the hay. he rests between two animals who warm him from the cold, he who remedies our ills with his great power; his kingdom and seigniory are the world and the calm heaven, and now he sleeps in the hay. he counts it good to bear the cold and fare thus, having no robe to protect or cover him, and to give us life he suffered cold in the hay, our jesus of nazareth." [ ] "in a porch, full of cobwebs, between the mule and the ox, the saviour of souls is born.... in the porch at bethlehem are star, sun, and moon: the virgin and st. joseph and the child who lies in the cradle. in bethlehem they touch fire, from the porch the flame issues; it is a star of heaven which has fallen into the straw. i am a poor gipsy who come hither from egypt, and bring to god's child a cock. i am a poor galician who come from galicia, and bring to god's child linen for a shift. to the new-born child all bring a gift; i am little and have nothing; i bring him my heart." [ ] "sleep, oh sleep, dear baby mine, king divine; sleep, my child, in sleep recline; lullaby, mine infant fair, heaven's king, all glittering, full of grace as lilies rare. close thine eyelids, o my treasure, loved past measure, of my soul, the lord, the pleasure; lullaby, o regal child, on the hay my joy i lay; love celestial, meek and mild. why dost weep, my babe? alas! cold winds that pass vex, or is't the little ass? lullaby, o paradise; of my heart thou saviour art; on thy face i press a kiss."{ } (translation by countess martinengo-cesaresco.) [ ] a bas-querçy bird-carol of this kind is printed by mr. h. j. l. j. massé in his delightful "book of old carols,"{ } a collection of the words and music of christmas songs in many languages--english, latin, german, flemish, basque, swedish, catalan, provençal, and french of various periods and dialects. [ ] "i come from heaven to tell the best nowells that ever befell; to you thir tidings true i bring, and i will of them say and sing. this day to you is born ane child, of mary meek and virgin mild, that blessed bairn, benign and kind, sall you rejoice, baith heart and mind. my soul and life, stand up and see what lies in ane crib of tree [wood]. what babe is that, so gude and fair? it is christ, goddis son and heir. o god! that made all creature, how art thou now become so puir, that on the hay and stray will lie, among the asses, oxen, and kye? o, my dear heart, young jesus sweet, prepare thy cradle in my spreit, and i sall rock thee in my heart, and never mair from thee depart but i sall praise thee ever moir, with sangis sweet unto thy gloir; the knees of my heart sall i bow, and sing that richt balulalow."{ } [ ] "now blessed be thou, christ jesu, thou art man born, this is true; the angels made a merry noise, yet have we more cause to rejoice, _kirieleyson_. the blessed son of god only, in a crib full poor did lie, with our poor flesh and our poor blood, was clothed that everlasting good. _kirieleyson._ he that made heaven and earth of nought, in our flesh hath our health brought, for our sake made he himself full small, that reigneth lord and king over all. _kirieleyson._"{ } [ ] "all my heart this night rejoices, as i hear, far and near, sweetest angel voices; 'christ is born,' their choirs are singing, till the air everywhere now with joy is ringing. hark! a voice from yonder manger, soft and sweet, doth entreat, 'flee from woe and danger; brethren, come, from all doth grieve you you are freed, all you need i will surely give you.' blessed saviour, let me find thee! keep thou me close to thee, call me not behind thee! life of life, my heart thou stillest, calm i rest on thy breast, all this void thou fillest."{ } [ ] "triumph, ye heavens! rejoice ye with high adoration! sing to the lord, to the saviour, in glad exultation! angels, give ear! god unto man hath drawn near, bringing to lost ones salvation. * * * * * king of the glory! what grace in thy humiliation! thou wert a child! who of old wert the lord of creation. thee will i own, thee would i follow, alone, heir of thy wondrous salvation. faithful immanuel! let me thy glories be telling, come, o my saviour, be born, in mine inmost heart dwelling, in me abide. make me with thee unified, where the life-fountain is welling."{ } [ ] a few of the best traditional pieces have been published by mr. f. sidgwick in one of his charming "watergate booklets" under the title of "popular carols." the two next quotations are from this source. [ ] browning's great poem, "christmas eve," is philosophical rather than devotional, and hardly comes within the scope of this chapter. [ ] the first mention of a season corresponding to advent is at the council of tours, about , when a fast for monks in december is vaguely indicated. at the council of mâcon ( ) it is enjoined that from martinmas the second, fourth, and sixth days of the week should be fasting days; and at the close of the sixth century rome, under gregory the great, adopted the rule of the four sundays in advent. in the next century it became prevalent in the west. in the greek church, forty days of fasting are observed before christmas; this custom appears to have been established in the thirteenth century. in the roman church the practice as to fasting varies: in the british isles wednesday and friday are observed, but in some countries no distinction is made between advent and ordinary weeks of the year.{ } [ ] anthony beck, bishop of durham, bequeathed to his cathedral a christmas candlestick of silver-gilt, on the base of which was an image of st. mary with her son lying in the crib. [ ] "joseph, dear nephew mine, help me to rock the child." "gladly, dear aunt, will i help thee to rock thy child." (note the curious words of relationship; joseph and mary were both of the seed of david.) [ ] "let us rock the child and bow our hearts before the crib! let us delight our spirits and bless the child: sweet little jesu! sweet little jesu!... let us greet his little hands and feet, his little heart of fire, and reverence him humbly as our lord and god! sweet little jesu! sweet little jesu!" [ ] turning for a moment from sicilian domestic celebrations to a public and communal action, i may mention a strange ceremony that takes place at messina in the dead of night; at two o'clock on christmas morning a naked _bambino_ is carried in procession from the church of santa lucia to the cathedral and back.{ } [ ] or on the sunday following the octave, if the octave itself is a week-day. [ ] tempting as it is to connect these dolls with the crib, it is possible that their origin should be sought rather in anthropomorphic representations of the spirits of vegetation, and that they are of the same nature as the images carried about with garlands in may and at other seasons.{ } [ ] though no texts are extant of religious plays in english acted at christmastide, there are occasional records of such performances:--at tintinhull for instance in and at dublin in , while at aberdeen a processional "nativity" was performed at candlemas. and the "stella," whether in english or latin it is uncertain, is found at various places between and .{ } [ ] lodging. [ ] once. [ ] scarcely. [ ] horses. hous of haras = stable. [ ] dwell. [ ] darkness. [ ] being. [ ] wonderful. [ ] worship. [ ] shedder. [ ] wrap. [ ] crippled. [ ] overreached. [ ] deprive of. [ ] curse. [ ] strong in lordliness. [ ] wizard. [ ] shame. [ ] noble being. [ ] cursed. [ ] warlock. [ ] sorrow. [ ] grows merry. [ ] promise. [ ] noble. [ ] child. [ ] baby. [ ] head. [ ] face. [ ] hand. [ ] besides the nativity plays in the four great cycles there exists a "shearmen and tailors' play" which undoubtedly belongs to coventry, unlike the "ludus coventriae," whose connection with that town is, to say the least, highly doubtful. it opens with a prologue by the prophet isaiah, and in a small space presents the events connected with the incarnation from the annunciation to the murder of the innocents. the nativity and shepherd scenes have less character and interest than those in the great cycles, and need not be dealt with here.{ } [ ] "_riepl._ what a noise there is. everything seems so strange to me! _jörgl._ have the heavens fallen to-day; are the angels flying over our field? _r._ they are leaping _j._ down from above. _r._ i couldn't do the thing; 'twould break my neck and legs." [ ] "_j._ my child, canst find no lodging? must thou bear such frost and cold? _r._ thou liest in cold swaddling-clothes! come, put a garment about him! _j._ cover his feet up; wrap him up delicately!" [ ] "three eggs and some butter we bring, too; deign to accept it! a fowl to make some broth if thy mother can cook it--put some dripping in, and 'twill be good. because we've nothing else--we are but poor shepherds--accept our goodwill." [ ] "_j._ the best of health to thee ever, my little dear; when thou wantest anything, come to me. _j._ god keep thee ever! _r._ grow up fine and tall soon! _j._ i'll take thee into service when thou'rt big enough." [ ] jacopone da todi, whose christmas songs we have already considered, was probably connected with the movement. [ ] an interesting and pathetic christmas example is given by signor d'ancona in his "origini del teatro in italia."{ } [ ] though the ox and ass are not mentioned by st. luke, it is an easy transition to them from the idea of the manger. early christian writers found a scriptural sanction for them in two passages in the prophets: isaiah i. , "the ox knoweth his owner and the ass his master's crib," and habakkuk iii. (a mistranslation), "in the midst of two beasts shall thou be known." [ ] with this may be compared the fair still held in rome in the piazza navona just before christmas, at which booths are hung with little clay figures for use in _presepi_ (see p. ). one cannot help being reminded too, though probably there is no direct connection, of the biscuits in human shapes to be seen in german markets and shops at christmas, and of the paste images which english bakers used to make at this season.{ } [ ] among the scandinavians, who were late in their conversion, a pre-christian yule feast seems to have been held in the ninth century, but it appears to have taken place not in december but about the middle of january, and to have been transferred to december by the christian king hakon the good of norway ( - ).{ } [ ] it is only right to mention here professor g. bilfinger's monograph "das germanische julfest" (stuttgart, ), where it is maintained that the only festivals from which the christmas customs of the teutonic peoples have sprung are the january kalends of the roman empire and the christian feast of the nativity. bilfinger holds that there is no evidence either of a november beginning-of-winter festival or of an ancient teutonic midwinter feast. bilfinger's is the most systematic of existing treatises on christmas origins, but the considerations brought forward in tille's "yule and christmas" in favour of the november festival are not lightly to be set aside, and while recognizing that its celebration must be regarded rather as a probable hypothesis than an established fact, i shall here follow in general the suggestions of tille and try to show the contributions of this northern new year feast to christmas customs. [ ] accounts of such maskings are to be found in innumerable books of travel. in _folk-lore_, june , , professor edward westermarck gives a particularly full and interesting description of moroccan customs of this sort. he describes at length various masquerades in the skins and heads of beasts, accompanied often by the dressing-up of men as women and by gross obscenities. [ ] another suggested explanation connects the change of clothes with rites of initiation at the passage from boyhood to manhood. "manhood, among primitive peoples, seems to be envisaged as ceasing to be a woman.... man is born of woman, reared of woman. when he passes to manhood, he ceases to be a woman-thing, and begins to exercise functions other and alien. that moment is one naturally of extreme peril; he at once emphasizes it and disguises it. he wears woman's clothes." from initiation rites, according to this theory, the custom spread to other occasions when it was desirable to "change the luck." [ ] according to sir john rhys, in the isle of man _hollantide_ (november , old style, therefore november ) is still to-day the beginning of a new year. but the ordinary calendar is gaining ground, and some of the associations of the old new year's day are being transferred to january , the roman date. "in wales this must have been decidedly helped by the influence of roman rule and roman ideas; but even there the adjuncts of the winter calends have never been wholly transferred to the calends of january."{ } [ ] in burne and jackson's "shropshire folk-lore" (p. f.) there are details about cakes and other doles given to the poor at funerals. these probably had the same origin as the november "soul-cakes." [ ] cf. pp. - and - of this volume. [ ] the prominence of "eves" in festival customs is a point specially to be noticed; it is often to them rather than to the actual feast days that old practices cling. this is perhaps connected with the ancient celtic and teutonic habit of reckoning by nights instead of days--a trace of this is left in our word "fortnight"--but it must be remembered that the church encouraged the same tendency by her solemn services on the eves of festivals, and that the jewish sabbath begins on friday evening. [ ] attempts are being made to suppress the november carnival at hampstead, and perhaps the celebration may prove to have been the last. [ ] "raise the glass at martinmas, drink wine all through the year." [ ] it is interesting to note that in the italian province of venetia, as well as in more northerly regions, martinmas is especially a children's feast. in the sweetshops are sold little sugar images of the saint on horseback with a long sword, and in venice itself children go about singing, playing on tambourines, and begging for money.{ } [ ] "at st. andrew's mass winter is certain." [ ] this custom may be compared with the scotch eating of sowans in bed on christmas morning (see chapter xii.). [ ] in a legend of the saint she is said to have plucked out her own eyes when their beauty caused a prince to seek to ravish her away from her convent.{ } [ ] the bath-house in the old-fashioned swedish farm is a separate building to which everyone repairs on christmas eve, but which is, or was, seldom used except on this one night of the year.{ } [ ] sometimes christmas is reckoned as one of the twelve days, sometimes not. in the former case, of course, the epiphany is the thirteenth day. in england we call the epiphany twelfth day, in germany it is generally called thirteenth; in belgium and holland it is thirteenth; in sweden it varies, but is usually thirteenth. sometimes then the twelve days are spoken of, sometimes the thirteen. "the twelve nights," in accordance with the old teutonic mode of reckoning by nights, is a natural and correct term.{ } [ ] those who wish to pursue further the study of the _kallikantzaroi_ should read the elaborate and fascinating, if not altogether convincing, theories of mr. j. c. lawson in his "modern greek folklore and ancient greek religion." he distinguishes two classes of _kallikantzaroi_, one of which he identifies with ordinary werewolves, while the other is the type of hairy, clawed demons above described. he sets forth a most ingenious hypothesis connecting them with the centaurs. [ ] it is to be borne in mind that the oak was a sacred tree among the heathen slavs; it was connected with the thunder-god perun, the counterpart of jupiter, and a fire of oak burned night and day in his honour. the neighbours of the slavs, the lithuanians, had the same god, whom they called perkunas; they too kept up a perpetual oak-fire in his honour, and in time of drought they used to pour beer on the flames, praying to perkunas to send showers.{ } the libations of wine on the yule log may conceivably have had a similar purpose. [ ] kindling. [ ] the custom referred to in the last sentence may be compared with the danish st. thomas's day practice (see chapter viii.). [ ] at wormesley in herefordshire there is a holy thorn which is still believed to blossom exactly at twelve o'clock on twelfth night. "the blossoms are thought to open at midnight, and drop off about an hour afterwards. a piece of thorn gathered at this hour brings luck, if kept for the rest of the year." as recently as about forty people went to see the thorn blossom at this time (see e. m. leather, "the folk-lore of herefordshire" [london, ], ). [ ] compare the struggle for the "haxey hood," described in chapter xvi., p. . [ ] this may be compared with the ancient greek _eiresione_, "a portable may-pole, a branch hung about with wool, acorns, figs, cakes, fruits of all sorts and sometimes wine-jars."{ } [ ] it by no means necessarily follows, of course, that they were exclusively roman in origin. [ ] in welsh it has also the name of "the tree of pure gold," a rather surprising title for a plant with green leaves and white berries. dr. frazer has sought to explain this name by the theory that in a roundabout way the sun's golden fire was believed to be an emanation from the mistletoe, in which the life of the oak, whence fire was kindled, was held to reside.{ } [ ] in the neighbourhood of reichenberg children hang up their stockings at the windows on st. andrew's eve, and in the morning find them filled with apples and nuts{ }--a parallel to martinmas and st. nicholas customs, at a date intermediate between the two festivals. [ ] "he has more to do than the ovens in england at christmas." [ ] the following quotation from an ancient account book is tersely suggestive of the english christmas:-- s. d. "item payd to the preacher vi ii item payd to the minstrell xii o item payd to the coke xv o" [ ] in county louth, ireland, boys used to carry about a thorn-bush decked with streamers of coloured paper and with a wren tied to one of the branches.{ } [ ] dancing is, as everyone knows, a common and indeed a central feature of primitive festivals; and such dancing is wont to take a dramatic form, to be mimetic, whether re-enacting some past event or _pre_-doing something with magical intent to produce it.{ } the greek tragedy itself probably sprang from a primitive dance of a dramatic and magical character, centred in a death and re-birth.{ } [ ] in thessaly and macedonia at carnival time folk-plays of a somewhat similar character are performed, including a quarrel, a death, and a miraculous restoration to life--evidently originating in magical ritual intended to promote the fertility of vegetation.{ } parallels can be found in the carnival customs of other countries. [ ] a remarkably clear instance of the transference of customs from hollantide eve (hallowe'en) to the modern new year is given by sir john rhys. certain methods of prognostication described by him are practised by some people in the isle of man on the one day and by some on the other, and the roman date is gaining ground.{ } [ ] see p. . [ ] "ope thy purse, and shut it then." [ ] it is probable that some customs practised at the epiphany belong in reality to christmas day, old style. [ ] _pasqua_ is there used for great festivals in general, not only for easter. [ ] the custom of "burning the bush," still surviving here and there in herefordshire, shows a certain resemblance to this. the "bush," a globe made of hawthorn, hangs throughout the year in the farmhouse kitchen, with the mistletoe. early on new year's day it "is carried to the earliest sown wheat field, where a large fire is lighted, of straw and bushes, in which it is burnt. while it is burning, a new one is made; in making it, the ends of the branches are scorched in the fire." burning straw is carried over twelve ridges of the field, and then follow cider-drinking and cheering. (see leather, "folk-lore of herefordshire," f.) distributed proofreaders europe at http://dp.rastko.net [illustration: the house of commons in the time of sir robert walpole. wigs in parliament.] at the sign of the barber's pole studies in hirsute history by william andrews author of "bygone england" etc. cottingham, yorkshire j.r. tutin preface connected with the barber and his calling are many curiosities of history. in the following pages, an attempt has been made, and i trust not without success, to bring together notices of the more interesting matters that gather round the man and his trade. in the compilation of this little book many works have been consulted, and among those which have yielded me the most information must be mentioned the following:-- "annals of the barber-surgeons of london," by sidney young, london, . "an apology for the beard," by artium magister, london, . "barbers' company," by g. lambert, f.s.a., london, . "barber-surgeons and chandlers," by d. embleton, m.d., newcastle-on-tyne, . "barber's shop," by r.w. proctor, edited by w.e.a. axon, manchester, . "philosophy of beards," by t.s. cowing, ipswich. "some account of the beard and the moustachio," by john adey repton, f.s.a., london, . "why shave?" by h.m., london. _notes and queries_, and other periodicals, as well as encyclopædias, books on costume, and old plays, have been drawn upon, and numerous friends have supplied me with information. i must specially mention with gratitude mr everard home coleman, the well-known contributor to _notes and queries_. some of my chapters have been previously published in the magazines, but all have been carefully revised and additions have been made to them. in conclusion, i hope this work will prove a welcome contribution to the byways of history. william andrews. royal institution, hull, _august th_, . contents page the barber's pole the barber's shop sunday shaving from barber to surgeon bygone beards taxing the beard powdering the hair the age of wigs stealing wigs the wig-makers' riot the moustache movement index list of illustrations page the house of commons in the time of sir robert walpole. wigs in parliament _frontispiece_ the barber's shop, from "orbis pictus" a barber's shop in the time of queen elizabeth william shakespeare (the stratford portrait) henry viii. receiving the barber-surgeons bayeux tapestry john knox, born , died john taylor, the water poet, born , died the lord mayor of york escorting princess margaret through york in . shows the beard of the lord mayor beards in the olden time the gunpowder conspirators, from a print published immediately after the discovery. shows the beards in fashion in geoffrey chaucer, born about , died russian beard token, a.d. egyptian wig (probably for female), from the british museum the earl of albemarle man with wig and muff, (_from a print of the period_) campaign wig periwig with tail ramillie wig pig-tail wig bag-wig heart-breakers with and without a wig lord mansfield stealing a wig george frederick muntz, m.p. charles dickens, born , died the barber's pole in most instances the old signs which indicated the callings of shopkeepers have been swept away. indeed, the three brass balls of the pawn-broker and the pole of the barber are all that are left of signs of the olden time. round the barber's pole gather much curious fact and fiction. so many suggestions have been put forth as to its origin and meaning that the student of history is puzzled to give a correct solution. one circumstance is clear: its origin goes back to far distant times. an attempt is made in "the athenian oracle" (i. ), to trace the remote origin of the pole. "the barber's art," says the book, "was so beneficial to the publick, that he who first brought it up in rome had, as authors relate, a statue erected to his memory. in england they were in some sort the surgeons of old times, into whose art those beautiful leeches, [footnote: this is the old word for doctors or surgeons.] our fair virgins, were also accustomed to be initiated. in cities and corporate towns they still retain their name barber-chirurgeons. they therefore used to hang their basons out upon poles to make known at a distance to the weary and wounded traveller where all might have recourse. they used poles, as some inns still gibbet their signs, across a town." it is a doubtful solution of the origin of the barber's sign. [illustration: the barber's shop, from "orbis pictus."] a more satisfactory explanation is given in the "antiquarian repertory." "the barber's pole," it is there stated, "has been the subject of many conjectures, some conceiving it to have originated from the word poll or head, with several other conceits far-fetched and as unmeaning; but the true intention of the party coloured staff was to show that the master of the shop practised surgery and could breathe a vein as well as mow a beard: such a staff being to this day by every village practitioner put in the hand of the patient undergoing the operation of phlebotomy. the white band, which encompasses the staff, was meant to represent the fillet thus elegantly twined about it." we reproduce a page from "comenii orbis pictus," perhaps better known under its english title of the "visible world." it is said to have been the first illustrated school-book printed, and was published in . comenius was born in , was a moravian bishop, a famous educational reformer, and the writer of many works, including the "visible world: or a nomenclature, and pictures of all the chief things that are in the world, and of men's employments therein; in above an copper cuts." under each picture are explanatory sentences in two columns, one in latin, and the other in english, and by this means the pupil in addition to learning latin, was able to gain much useful knowledge respecting industries and other "chief things that are in the world." for a century this was the most popular text-book in europe, and was translated into not fewer than fourteen languages. it has been described as a crude effort to interest the young, and it was more like an illustrated dictionary than a child's reading-book. in the picture of the interior of a barber's shop, a patient is undergoing the operation of phlebotomy (figure ). he holds in his hand a pole or staff having a bandage twisted round it. it is stated in brand's "popular antiquities" that an illustration in a missal of the time of edward the first represents this ancient practice. in a speech made in the house of peers by lord thurlow, in support of postponing the further reading of the surgeons' incorporation bill, from july th, , to that day three months, the noble lord said that by a statute still in force, the barbers and surgeons were each to use a pole. the barbers were to have theirs blue and white, striped, with no other appendage; but the surgeon's pole, which was the same in other respects, was likewise to have a galley-pot and a red rag, to denote the particular nature of their vocation. a question is put in the _british apollo_ (london, ):-- "... why a barber at port-hole puts forth a party-coloured pole?" this is the answer given:-- "in ancient rome, when men lov'd fighting, and wounds and scars took much delight in, man-menders then had noble pay, which we call surgeons to this day. 'twas order'd that a hughe long pole, with bason deck'd should grace the hole, to guide the wounded, who unlopt could walk, on stumps the others hopt; but, when they ended all their wars, and men grew out of love with scars, their trade decaying; to keep swimming they joyn'd the other trade of trimming, and on their poles to publish either, thus twisted both their trades together." during his residence at his living in the county of meath, before he was advanced to the deanery of st patrick's, dean swift was daily shaved by the village barber, who gained his esteem. the barber one morning, when busy lathering swift, said he had a great favour to ask his reverence, adding that at the suggestion of his neighbours he had taken a small public-house at the corner of the churchyard. he hoped that with the two businesses he might make a better living for his family. "indeed," said the future dean, "and what can i do to promote the happy union?" "and please you," said the barber, "some of our customers have heard much about your reverence's poetry; so that, if you would but condescend to give me a smart little touch in that way to clap under my sign, it might be the making of me and mine for ever." "but what do you intend for your sign?" inquired the cleric. "the 'jolly barber,' if it please your reverence, with a razor in one hand and a full pot in the other." "well," rejoined swift, "in that case there can be no great difficulty in supplying you with a suitable inscription." taking up a pen he instantly wrote the following couplet, which was duly painted on the sign and remained there for many years:-- "rove not from pole to pole, but step in here, where nought excels the shaving but--the beer." another barber headed his advertisement with a parody on a couplet from goldsmith as follows:-- "man wants but little beard below, nor wants that little long." a witty parisian hairdresser on one of the boulevards put up a sign having on it a portrait of absalom dangling by his hair from a tree, and joab piercing his body with a spear. under the painting was the following terse epigram:-- "passans, contemplez le malheur d'absalom pendu par la nuque; il aurait évité ce malheur, s'il eut porté une perruque." the lines lose some of their piquancy when rendered into english as follows:-- "the wretched absalom behold, suspended by his flowing hair: he might have 'scaped this hapless fate had he chosen a wig to wear." the barber's shop the old-fashioned barber has passed away. in years agone he was a notable tradesman, and was a many-sided man of business, for he shaved, cut hair, made wigs, bled, dressed wounds, and performed other offices. when the daily papers were not in the hands of the people he retailed the current news, and usually managed to scent the latest scandal, which he was not slow to make known--in confidence, and in an undertone, of course. he was an intelligent fellow, with wit as keen as his razor; urbane, and having the best of tempers. it has been truthfully said of this old-time tradesman that one might travel from pole to pole and never encounter an ill-natured or stupid barber. long days are usually worked in the barber's shop, and many attempts have been made to reduce the hours of labour. we must not forget that compulsory early closing is by no means a new cry, as witness the following edict, issued in the reign of henry vi., by the reading corporation: "ordered that no barber open his shop to shave any man after o'clock at night from easter to michaelmas, or o'clock from michaelmas to easter, except it be any stranger or any worthy man of the town that hath need: whoever doeth to the contrary to pay one thousand tiles to the guildhall." [illustration: a barber's shop in the time of queen elizabeth.] in the reign of queen elizabeth the rich families from the country thought it no disgrace in that simple age to lodge in fleet street, or take rooms above some barber's shop. at this period, indeed, the barber-surgeon was a man of considerable importance. his shop was the gathering-place of idle gallants, who came to have their sword-wounds dressed after street frays. the gittern, or guitar, lay on the counter, and this was played by a customer to pass away the time until his turn came to have his hair trimmed, his beard starched, his mustachios curled, and his love-locks tied up. we give a picture of a barber's shop at this period; the place appears more like a museum than an establishment for conducting business. we get a word picture of a barber's shop in greene's "quip for an upstart courtier," published in . it is related that the courtier sat down in the throne of a chair, and the barber, after saluting him with a low bow, would thus address him: "sir, will you have your worship's hair cut after the italian manner, short and round, and then frounst with the curling irons to make it look like a half-moon in a mist; or like a spaniard, long at the ears and curled like to the two ends of an old cast periwig; or will you be frenchified with a love-lock down to your shoulders, whereon you may wear your mistress's favour? the english cut is base, and gentlemen scorn it; novelty is dainty. speak the word, sir, my scissors are ready to execute your worship's will." a couple of hours were spent in combing and dressing the ambrosial locks of the young apollo; then the barber's basin was washed with camphor soap. at last the beard is reached, and with another congee the barber asks if his worship would wish it to be shaven; "whether he would have his peak cut short and sharp, and amiable like an inamorato, or broad pendent like a spade, to be amorous as a lover or terrible as a warrior and soldado; whether he will have his crates cut low like a juniper bush, or his subercles taken away with a razor; if it be his pleasure to have his appendices primed, or his moustachios fostered to turn about his ears like vine tendrils, fierce and curling, or cut down to the lip with the italian lash?--and with every question a snip of the scissors and a bow." if a poor man entered the shop he was polled for twopence, and was soon trimmed around like a cheese, and dismissed with scarce a "god speed you." the puritans looked askance at the fashions introduced by the barbers. no wonder when the talk in the shop was about the french cut, the spanish cut, the dutch and the italian mode; the bravado fashion, and the mean style. in addition to these were the gentleman's cut, the common cut, the court cut, and county cut. "and," wrote stubbes with indignation, "they have other kinds of cuts innumerable, and, therefore, when you come to be trimmed they will ask you whether you will be cut to look terrible to your enemy, or amiable to your friend; grim and stern in countenance, or pleasant and demure; for they have diverse kinds of cuts for all these purposes, or else they lie! then when they have done all their feats, it is a world to consider how their mowchatows must be preserved and laid out from one cheek to another; yea, almost from one ear to another, and turned up like two horns towards the forehead. besides that, when they come to the cutting of the hair, what tricking and trimming, what rubbing, what scratching, what combing and clawing, what trickling and toying, and all to tawe out money, you may be sure. and when they come to washing--oh, how gingerly they behave themselves therein! for then shall your mouth be bossed with the lather or foam that riseth of the balls (for they have their sweet balls wherewith they use to wash), your eyes closed must be anointed therewith also. then snap go the fingers full bravely, god wot. thus this tragedy ended, comes the warm clothes to wipe and dry him withall; next the ears must be picked, and closed together again, artificially, forsooth! the hair of the nostrils cut away, and everything done in order, comely to behold. the last action in the tragedy is the payment of money; and lest these cunning barbers might seem unconscionable in asking much for their pains, they are of such a shameful modesty as they will ask nothing at all, but, standing to the courtesy and liberality of the giver, they will receive all that comes, how much soever it be, not giving any again, i warrant you; for take a barber with that fault, and strike off his head. no, no; such fellows are rarae aves in terris, nigrisque simillimæ cygnis--rare birds on the earth, and as scarce as black swans. you shall have also your fragrant waters for your face, wherewith you shall be all besprinkled; your musick again, and pleasant harmony shall sound in your ears, and all to tickle the same with rare delight, and in the end your cloak shall be brushed, and 'god be with you, gentlemen!'" john gay issued in the first series of his "fables," and in the one entitled "the goat without a beard" we get a description of the barber's shop of the period:-- "his pole, with pewter basins hung, black, rotten teeth in order strung, rang'd cups that in the window stood, lin'd with red rags, to look like blood, did well his threefold trade explain, who shav'd, drew teeth, and breath'd a vein." the wooden chair is next referred to, and then it is stated:-- "mouth, nose, and cheeks, the lather hides: light, smooth, and swift, the razor glides." old barbers' shops had their regulations in poetry and prose. forfeits used to be enforced for breaches of conduct as laid down in laws which were exhibited in a conspicuous manner, and might be read while the customer was awaiting his turn for attention at the hands of the knight of the razor. forfeits had to be paid for such offences as the following:-- for handling the razors, for talking of cutting throats, for calling hair-powder flour, for meddling with anything on the shop-board. shakespeare alludes to this custom in "measure for measure," act v. sc. , as follows:-- "the strong statutes stand like the forfeits in a barber's shop, as much in mock as mark." [illustration: william shakespeare (the stratford portrait).] half a century ago there was hanging a code of laws in a barber's shop in stratford-on-avon, which the possessor mounted when he was an apprentice some fifty years previously. his master was in business as a barber at the time of the garrick jubilee in , and he asserted that the list of forfeits was generally acknowledged by all the fraternity to have been in use for centuries. the following lines have found their way into several works, including ingledew's "ballads and songs of yorkshire" ( ). in some collections the lines are headed "rules for seemly behaviour," and in others "the barber of thirsk's forfeits." we draw upon dr ingledew for the following version, which is the best we have seen:-- "first come, first served--then come not late, and when arrived keep your sate; for he who from these rules shall swerve shall pay his forfeit--so observe. "who enters here with boots and spurs must keep his nook, for if he stirs and gives with arm'd heel a kick, a pint he pays for every prick. "who rudely takes another's turn by forfeit glass--may manners learn; who reverentless shall swear or curse must beg seven ha'pence from his purse. "who checks the barber in his tale, shall pay for that a gill of yale; who will or cannot miss his hat whilst trimming pays a pint for that. "and he who can but will not pay shall hence be sent half-trimmed away; for will he--nill he--if in fault, he forfeit must in meal or malt. "but mark, the man who is in drink must the cannikin, oh, never, never clink." the foregoing table of forfeits was published by dr kenrick in his review of dr johnson's edition of shakespeare in , and it was stated that he had read them many years before in a yorkshire town. this matter has been discussed at some length in _notes and queries_, and it is asserted that the foregoing is a forgery. some interesting comments on the controversy appeared in the issue of march th, . women barbers in the olden time were by no means uncommon in this country, and numerous accounts are given of the skilful manner they handled the razor. when railways were unknown and travellers went by stage-coach it took a considerable time to get from one important town to another, and shaving operations were often performed during the journey, and were usually done by women. in the byways of history we meet with allusions to "the five women barbers who lived in drury-lane," who are said to have shamefully maltreated a woman in the days of charles ii. according to aubrey, the duchess of albemarle was one of them. at the commencement of the nineteenth century a street near the strand was the haunt of black women who shaved with ease and dexterity. in st giles'-in-the-fields was another female shaver, and yet another woman wielder of the razor is mentioned in the "topography of london," by j.t. smith. "on one occasion," writes smith, "that i might indulge the humour of being shaved by a woman, i repaired to the seven dials, where in great st andrew's street a female performed the operations, whilst her husband, a strapping soldier in the horse guards, sat smoking his pipe." he mentions another woman barber in swallow street. two men from hull some time ago went by an early morning trip to scarborough, and getting up rather late the use of the razor was postponed until they arrived at the watering-place. shortly after leaving the station they entered a barber's shop. a woman lathered their faces, which operation, although skilfully performed, caused surprise and gave rise to laughter. they fully expected a man would soon appear to complete the work, but they were mistaken. the female took a piece of brown paper from a shelf, and with this she held with her left hand the customer's nose, and in an artistic manner shaved him with her right hand. some amusement was experienced, but the operation was finished without an accident. the gentlemen often told the story of their shave at scarborough by a woman barber. at barnard castle a wife frequently shaved the customers at the shop kept by her husband, who was often drunk and incapable of doing his work. louth (lincolnshire) boasted a female barber, who is said to have shaved lightly and neatly, and much better than most men. many stories, which are more or less true, are related respecting barbers. the following is said to be authentic, and we give it as related to us. the duke of c---- upon one occasion entered a small barber's shop in barnard castle, and upon inquiring for the master was answered by an apprentice of fourteen that he was not at home. "can you shave, then?" asked the duke. "yes, sir, i always do," was the reply. "but can you shave without cutting?" "yes, sir, i'll try," answered the youth. "very well," said the duke, while seating himself, and loading his pistol; "but look here, if you let any blood, as true as i sit here i'll blow your brains out! now consider well before you begin." after a moment's reflection, the boy began to make ready, and said, "i'm not afraid of cutting you, sir," and in a short time had completed the feat without a scratch, to the complete satisfaction of the duke. in gentle tones his grace asked, "were you not afraid of having your brains blown out, when you might have cut me so easily?" "no, sir, not at all; because i thought that as soon as i should happen to let any blood, before you could have time to fire i would cut your throat." the smart reply won from the duke a handsome reward. it need scarcely to be added he never resumed his dangerous threats in a barber's shop. a lesson was taught him for life. the barber of an english king boasted, says a story, that he must be the most loyal man in the realm, as he had every day the regal throat at his mercy. the king was startled at the observation, and concluded that the barbarous idea could never have entered an honest head, and for the future he resolved to grow a beard as a precautionary measure against summary execution. with a barber's shop in lichfield is associated an amusing story, in which the chief figure was farquhar, a dramatist, who attained a measure of success in the eighteenth century. his manner was somewhat pompous, and he resented with a great show of indignation the dalliance of the master of the shop. whilst he was fuming, a little deformed man came up to him and performed the operation satisfactorily. the same day farquhar was dining at the table of sir theophilus biddulph, when he noticed the dwarf there. taking the opportunity of following his host out of the room, he asked for an explanation of his conduct, and said that he deemed it an insult to be seated in such inferior company. amazed at the charge, sir theophilus assured the dramatist that every one of the guests was a gentleman, and that they were his particular friends. farquhar was not satisfied. "i am certain," he said, "that the little humpbacked man who sat opposite me is a barber who shaved me this morning." the host returned to the room and related the story which he had just heard. "ay, yes," replied the guest, who was a well-born gentleman, "i can make the matter clear. it was i who was in the barber's shop this morning, and as farquhar seemed in such a hurry, and the barber was out, i shaved him." the works of the old dramatists and other publications contain allusions to barbers' music. it was the practice, as we have said, when a customer was waiting for his turn in a barber's shop to pass his time playing on the gittern. dekker mentions a "barber's cittern for every serving-man to play upon." writing in , stubbes alludes to music at the barber's shop. in the "diary of samuel pepys" we read: "after supper my lord called for the lieutenant's cittern, and with two candlesticks with money in them for symballs, we made barber's music, with which my lord was well pleased." "my lord was easily satisfied," says a well-known contributor to _punch_, "and in our day would probably have enjoyed 'the horgans.'" we may rest assured that barber's music was of questionable melody. sunday shaving in bygone england, the churchyard was a common place for holding fairs and the vending of merchandise, and it was also customary for barbers to shave their customers there. in , by a particular prohibition of richard flemmyng, bishop of lincoln, the observance of the custom was restrained. the regulations of the gild of barber-surgeons of york deal with lord's day observance. in a rule was made, ordering, under a fine of ten shillings, "that none of the barbers shall work or keep open their shop on sunday, except two sundays next or before the assize weeks." another law on the question was made in as follows:--"this court, taking notice of several irregular and unreasonable practices committed by the company of barber-surgeons within this city in shaving, trimming, and cutting of several strangers' as well as citizens' hair and faces on the lord's day, which ought to be kept sacred, it is ordered by the whole consent of this court, and if any brother of the said company shall at any time hereafter either by himself, servant, or substitute, tonse, barb, or trim any person on the lord's day, in any inn or other public or private house or place, or shall go in or out of any such house or place on the said day with instruments used for that purpose, albeit the same cannot be positively proved, or made appear, but in case the lord mayor for the time being shall upon good circumstances consider and adjudge any such brother to have trimmed or barbed as is aforesaid, that then any such offender shall forfeit and pay for every such offence s., one half to the lord mayor, and the other to the use of the said company, unless such brother shall voluntarily purge himself by oath to the contrary; and the searchers of the said company for the time being are to make diligent search in all such as aforesaid public or private places for discovery of such offenders." the following abstract of an order of the barber-surgeons of chester shows that the members of the company were strict sabbatarians:-- " , seconde of july, ordered that no member of the company or his servant or apprentice shall trim any person on the lord's day commonly called sunday." in the corporation records of pontefract under the year it is stated: "whereas divers complaints have been made that the barbers of the said borough do frequently and openly use and exercise their respective trades upon the lord's day in profanation thereof, and to the high displeasure of almighty god. to prevent such evil practices for the future it is therefore ordered that no barber shall ... use or exercise the trade of a barber within the borough of pontefract upon the lord's day, commonly called sunday, nor shall trim or shave any person upon that day, either publicly or privately." we have in the last clause an indication of public shaving performed in the churchyard or the market place. the churchwardens of worksop parish, nottinghamshire, in paid half-a-crown for a bond in which the barbers bound themselves "not to shave on sundays in the morning." at a meeting of the barber-surgeons of newcastle-on-tyne held in it was ordered that no one should shave on a sunday, and that "no brother should shave john robinson till he pays what he owes to robert shafto." the operation was in bygone scotland pronounced sinful if performed on a sunday. members of congregations are entitled to object to the settlement of ministers, says the rev. dr charles rogers, provided they can substantiate any charge affecting their life or doctrine. mr davidson, presentee to stenton in , and mr edward johnstone, presentee to moffat in , were objected to for desecrating the sabbath by shaving on that day. the settlement of mr johnstone was delayed four years, so persistent were the objectors in maintaining what they regarded as the proper observance of the sabbath. the rev. patrick brontë, father of the famous novelists, was perpetual curate of thornton in bradford dale, from to . although a sense of decency was sadly deficient among the majority of the inhabitants of the district, they kept watch on the clergy, and were ever ready to make known to the world their presumed as well as their real offences and failings. the mistakes of some of them are well illustrated in an anecdote related by mr abraham holroyd, a well-known collector of local lore. when mr brontë resided at thornton it was rumoured in the village that he had been seen by a dissenter, through a chamber window, shaving himself on a sunday morning, which was considered to be a very serious disregard of the obligation of sabbath observance on the part of a clergyman. mrs ackroyd, a lady residing in the parish, had an interview with mr brontë on the subject. on his hearing what she had to say, he observed: "i should like you to keep what i say in your family; but i never shaved myself in all my life, or was ever shaved by any one else. i have so little beard that a little clipping every three months is all that is necessary." occasionally, at the present day, barbers are brought before the magistrates for working on sunday. they are summoned under an old act of charles ii., for shaving on the lord's day. the maximum fine is five shillings, and the costs of a case cannot be recovered from the defendant. generally the local hairdressers' association institutes the action. from barber to surgeon from the ancient but humble position of the barber is evolved the surgeon of modern times. perhaps some members of the medical profession would like to ignore the connection, but it is too true to be omitted from the pages of history. the calling of a barber is of great antiquity. we find in the book of the prophet ezekiel (v. ) allusions to the jewish custom of the barber shaving the head as a sign of mourning. in the remote past the art of surgery and the trade of barber were combined. it is clear that in all parts of the civilised world, in bygone times, the barber acted as a kind of surgeon, or, to state his position more precisely, he practised phlebotomy, the dressing of wounds, etc. their shops were general in greece about b.c., and then, as now, were celebrated as places where the gossips met. barbers settled in rome from sicily in b.c. . the clergy up to about the twelfth century had the care of men's bodies as well as their souls, and practised surgery and medicine. barbers gained much experience from the monks, whom they assisted in surgical operations. the practice of surgery involved the shedding of blood, and it was felt that this was incompatible with the functions of the clergy. after much consideration and discussion, in , the council of tours, under pope alexander iii., forbade the clergy to act as surgeons, but they were permitted to dispense medicine. the edict of tours must have given satisfaction to the barbers, and they were not slow to avail themselves of the opportunities the change afforded them. in london, and it is to be feared in other places, the barbers advertised their blood-letting in a most objectionable manner. it was customary to put blood in their windows to attract the attention of the public. an ordinance was passed in directing the barbers in london to have the blood "privately carried into the thames under the pain of paying two shillings to the use of the sheriffs." at an early period in london the barbers were banded together, and a gild was formed. in the first instance it seems that the chief object was the bringing together of the members at religious observances. they attended the funerals and obits of deceased members and their wives. eventually it was transformed into a semi-social and religious gild, and subsequently became a trade gild. in richard le barber, the first master of the barbers' company, was sworn at the guildhall, london. as time progressed the london company of barbers increased in importance. in the first year of the reign of edward iv. ( ) the barbers were incorporated by a royal charter, and it was confirmed by succeeding monarchs. a change of title occurred in , and it was then named the company of barber-surgeons. holbein painted a picture of henry viii. and the barber-surgeons. the painting is still preserved, and may be seen at the barber-surgeons' hall, monkwell street, london. pepys pronounces this "not a pleasant though a good picture." it is the largest and last work of holbein. the date assigned for its commencement was , and it was completed after the death of the artist in . it is painted on vertical oak boards, ft. in. high, and ft. in. long. it has been slightly altered since it was delivered to the barber-surgeons. the figures represent notable men belonging to the company and leaders of the healing art of the period at which it was painted. [illustration: henry viii. receiving the barber-surgeons.] in the reign of henry viii., not a few disputes occurred between the barbers and the surgeons. the following enactment was in force: "no person using any shaving or barbery in london shall occupy any surgery, letting of blood, or other matter, except of drawing teeth." laws were made, but they could not, or at all events were not, enforced. the barbers acted often as surgeons, and the surgeons increased their income by the use of the razor and shears. at this period, however, vigorous attempts were made to confine each to his legitimate work. the rev. j.l. saywell has a note on bleeding in his "history and annals of northallerton" ( ). "towards the early part of the nineteenth century," observes mr saywell, "a singular custom prevailed in the town and neighbourhood of northallerton (yorkshire). in the spring of the year nearly all the robust male adults, and occasionally females, repaired to a surgeon to be bled--a process which they considered essentially conduced to vigorous health." the charge for this operation was one shilling. parliament was petitioned, in , praying that surgeons might be exempt from bearing arms and serving on juries, and thus be enabled without hindrance to attend to their professional duties. the request was granted, and to the present time medical men enjoy the privileges granted so long ago. in , the surgeons and the barbers were separated by act of parliament. the barber-surgeons lingered for a long time, the last in london, named middleditch, of great suffolk street, southwark, only dying in . mr john timbs, the popular writer, left on record that he had a vivid recollection of middleditch's dentistry. over the last resting-places of some barber-surgeons are curious epitaphs. at tewkesbury abbey one in form of an acrostic is as follows:-- "here lyeth the body of thomas merrett, of tewkesbury, barber-chirurgeon, who departed this life the nd day of october . =t=hough only stone salutes the reader's eye, =h=ere (in deep silence) precious dust doth lye, =o=bscurely sleeping in death's mighty store, =m=ingled with common earth till time's no more. =a=gainst death's stubborne laws, who dares repine, =s=ince so much merrett did his life resigne. =m=urmurs and tears are useless in the grave, =e=lse hee whole vollies at his tomb might have. =r=est in peace; who like a faithful steward, =r=epair'd the church, the poore and needy cur'd; =e=ternall mansions do attend the just, =t=o clothe with immortality their dust, =t=ainted (whilst under ground) with wormes and rust." under the shadow of the ancient church of bakewell, derbyshire, is a stone containing a long inscription to the memory of john dale, barber-surgeon, and his two wives, elizabeth foljambe and sarah bloodworth. it ends thus:-- "know posterity, that on the th of april, in the year of grace , the rambling remains of the above john dale were, in the th yeare of his pilgrimage, laid upon his two wives. this thing in life might raise some jealousy, here all three lie together lovingly, but from embraces here no pleasure flows, alike are here all human joys and woes; here sarah's chiding john no longer hears, and old john's rambling sarah no more fears; a period's come to all their toylsome lives the good man's quiet; still are both his wives." bygone beards the history of the beard presents many items of interest connected with our own and other countries. its importance belongs more to the past than to the present, but even to-day its lore is of a curious character. we find in leviticus xiii. , the earliest mention of our theme, where moses gives directions for the treatment of a plague in the beard, and a little later he forbids the israelites to "mar the corners" of it. david, himself bearded, tells us that aaron possessed one going down to the skirts of his garments. in david's reign ambassadors were sent to the king of ammon, who, treating them as spies, cut off half of each of their beards. we are told that they were greatly ashamed, and david sent out to meet them, saying, "tarry at jericho until your beards be grown, and then return." to shave off the beard was considered by the jews as a mark of the deepest grief. [illustration: bayeux tapestry. the above picture, showing two soldiers of william the conqueror's army, is taken from the celebrated bayeux tapestry.] to turn to the annals of our own land, we find that the ancient britons did not cultivate the beard. the saxons wore the hair of the head long, and upon the upper lip, but the chin was clean shaven. harold, in his progress towards the fateful field of hastings, sent spies in advance to obtain an idea as to the strength of the enemy. on their return they stated among other things that "the host did almost seem to be priests, because they had all their face and both their lips shaven," a statement borne out by the representations of the norman soldiers in the bayeux tapestry. it is recorded that when the haughty victors had divided the broad lands of england among themselves, and when the englishmen had been made to feel that they were a subdued and broken nation, the conquered people still kept up the old fashion of growing their hair long, so that they might resemble as little as possible their cropped and shaven masters. julius ii., who ascended the papal throne in , was the first pope to allow his beard to grow, "in order," as he said, "to inspire the greater respect among the faithful." a curious custom of the middle ages was that of imbedding three hairs from the king's beard in the wax of the seal, in order to give greater solemnity to the document. another instance of the value placed on this adornment of nature by some nations comes to us in the story of the eastern potentate to whom the king of england had sent a man without a beard as his ambassador. the eastern monarch flew into a passion when the beardless visitor was presented. "had my master measured wisdom by the beard," was the ready retort, "he would have sent a goat." it is said that beards came into fashion in england in the thirteenth century, but by the nineteenth century they seem to have been given up by those holding leading positions in the land. traces of beards do not appear on monumental brasses. a revival of the practice of wearing the beard occurred in the reign of henry viii., and in some quarters attempts were made to repress it. the authorities at lincoln's inn prohibited lawyers wearing beards from sitting at the great table, unless they paid double commons; but it is highly probable that this was before , when the king ordered his courtiers to "poll their hair," and permit the crisp beard to grow. taxing beards followed, and the amount was graduated according to the condition of the person wearing this hirsute adornment. an entry has often been reproduced from the burghmote book of canterbury, made in the second year of the reign of edward vi., to the effect that the sheriff of canterbury and another paid their dues for wearing beards, s. d. and s. d. during the next reign, queen mary does not appear to have meddled with the beard. she sent four agents to moscow, and all were bearded; one of the number, george killingworth, had an unusually long one, measureing ft. in. in length, the sight of which caused a smile to light up the face of ivan the terrible. it is described as a thick, broad, and yellow beard, and we are told that ivan played with it after dinner as if it were a new toy. when sir thomas more laid his head on the block he carefully put his beard aside, saying, "it hath done no treason." john knox (born and died ), the famous scottish reformer, whose name figures so largely in the religious annals of his country, was remarkable for the length of his beard. the rev. john more was a native of yorkshire, and after being educated at cambridge settled at norwich. he was one of the worthiest clergymen in the reign of queen elizabeth, and gained the name of "the apostle of norwich." his beard was the largest and longest of any englishman of his time. he used to give as his reason for wearing his beard of unusual size "that no act of his life might be unworthy of the gravity of his appearance." he died at norwich in . [illustration: john knox, born , died .] [illustration: john taylor, the water poet, born , died .] in the first year of the reign of queen elizabeth an attempt was made to add to the revenue by taxing at the rate of s. d. every beard of above a fortnight's growth. it was an abortive measure, and was not taken seriously. it was never enforced, and people laughed at the legislature for attempting to raise money by means of the beard. in elizabeth's reign it was considered a mark of fashion to dye the beard and to cut it into a variety of shapes. in the reigns of the first james and the first charles these forms attracted not a little attention from the poets of the period. the rugged lines of taylor, "the water poet," are among the best known, and if not of great poetical merit, they show considerable descriptive skill, and enable us to realise the fashions of his day. in his "superbiæ flagellum," he describes a great variety of beards in his time, but omitted his own, which is that of a screw:-- "now a few lines to paper i will put, of men's beards strange, and variable cut, in which there's some that take as vain a pride as almost in all other things beside; some are reap'd most substantial like a brush, which makes a nat'rel wit known by the bush; and in my time of some men i have heard, whose wisdom have been only wealth and beard; many of these the proverb well doth fit, which says, bush natural, more hair than wit: some seem, as they were starched stiff and fine, like to the bristles of some angry swine; and some to set their love's desire on edge, are cut and prun'd like a quickset hedge; some like a spade, some like a fork, some square, some round, some mow'd like stubble, some stark bare; some sharp, stiletto fashion, dagger-like, that may with whisp'ring, a man's eyes outpike; some with the hammer cut, or roman t, their beards extravagant, reform'd must be; some with the quadrate, some triangle fashion, some circular, some oval in translation; some perpendicular in longitude; some like a thicket for their crassitude; that heights, depths, breadths, triform, square, oval, round, and rules geometrical in beards are found." [illustration: lord mayor of york escorting princess margaret through york in . shows the beard of the lord mayor.] some curious lines appear in "satirical songs and poems on costume," edited by frederick w. fairholt, f.s.a., printed for the percy society, . the piece which is entitled "the ballad of the beard," is reprinted from a collection of poems, entitled "le prince d'amour," , but it is evidently a production of the time of charles i., if not earlier. "the varied form of the beard," says fairholt, "which characterised the profession of each wearer, is amusingly descanted on, and is a curious fact in the chronicle of male fashions, during the first half of the seventeenth century." taylor, the water poet, has alluded to the custom at some length; and other writers of the day have so frequently mentioned the same thing, as to furnish materials for a curious (privately-printed) pamphlet, by j.a. repton, f.s.a., on the various forms of the beard and mustachio. the beard, like "the roman t," mentioned in the following ballad, is exhibited in our cut--fig. --from a portrait of g. raigersperg, , in mr repton's book. [illustration: beards in the olden time] the stiletto-beard, as worn by sir edward coke, is seen in fig. . the needle-beard was narrower and more pointed. the soldier's, or spade-beard, fig. , is from a dutch portrait, also in mr repton's book. the stubble, or close-cropped beard of a judge, requires no pictorial illustration. the bishop's-beard, fig. , is given in randle holme's "heraldry." he calls it "the broad, or cathedral-beard, because bishops, and grave men of the church, anciently did wear such beards." "the beard of king harry may be seen in any portrait of henry viii. and the amusing accuracy of the description tested. the clown's beard, busy and not subject to any fashionable trimming, is sufficiently described in the words of the song." we quote nearly the whole of this old ballad, in fact all that has a real bearing on the subject of the beard:-- "the beard, thick or thin, on the lip or chin, doth dwell so near the tongue, that her silence on the beard's defence may do her neighbour wrong. now a beard is a thing that commands in a king, be his sceptres ne'er so fair: where the beard bears the sway, the people obey, and are subject to a hair. 'tis a princely sight, and a grave delight, that adorns both young and old; a well thatcht face is a comely grace, and a shelter from the cold. when the piercing north comes thundering forth, let barren face beware; for a trick it will find, with a razor of wind, to shave the face that's bare. but there's many a nice and strange device, that doth the beard disgrace; but he that is in such a foolish sin, is a traitor to his face. now the beards there be of such a company, and fashions such a throng, that it is very hard to handle a beard, tho' it never be so long. the roman t, in its bravery, doth first itself disclose, but so high it turns, that oft it burns with the flames of a too red nose. the stiletto-beard, oh! it makes me afeared, it is so sharp beneath, for he that doth place a dagger in 's face, what wears he in his sheath? but, methinks, i do itch to go thro' stich the needle-beard to amend, which, without any wrong, i may call too long, for man can see no end. the soldier's-beard doth march in shear'd in figure like a spade, with which he'll make his enemies quake, and think their graves are made. the grim stubble eke on the judge's chin, shall not my verse despise; it is more fit for a nutmeg, but yet it grates poor prisoners' eyes. what doth invest a bishop's breast but a milk-white spreading hair? which an emblem may be of integrity, which doth inhabit there. but, oh! let us tarry for the beard of king harry, that grows about the chin, with his bushy pride, and a grove on each side, and a champion ground between. last, the clown doth rush, with his beard like a bush, which may be well endur'd." charles i. wore the vandyke-beard, made familiar to us by the great artist. this fashion, set by the king, was followed by nearly the whole of his cavaliers. it has been thought by some students of this subject that with the tragic death of the king the beard disappeared, but if we are to put our faith in an old song, dated , we must conclude that with the restoration it once more came into fashion. it says:-- "now of beards there be such company, of fashions such a throng, that it is very hard to treat of the beard, tho' it be never so long." it did not remain popular for any length of time, the razor everywhere keeping down its growth. [illustration: the gunpowder conspirators, from a print published immediately after the discovery. shows the beards in fashion in .] sir walter scott's great grandsire was called "beardie." he was an ardent jacobite, and made a vow that he would never shave his beard until the stuarts were restored. "it would have been well," said the novelist, "if his zeal for the vanished dynasty had stopped with letting his beard grow. but he took arms and intrigued in their cause, until he lost all he had in the world, and, as i have heard, ran a narrow risk of being hanged, had it not been for the interference of anne, duchess of buccleuch and monmouth." sir walter refers to him in the introduction to canto vi. of "marmion":-- "with amber beard and flaxen hair, and reverend apostolic air. small thought was his, in after time e'er to be pitched into a rhyme. the simple sire could only boast that he was loyal to his cost; the banish'd race of kings revered, and lost his land--but kept his beard." he died in at kelso. "beardie's" second son, named robert, was a farmer at sandyknowe, and was sir walter scott's grandfather. a contributor to _notes and queries_, for october st, , gives the following interesting particulars of a shaving statute relating to ireland:--"in a parliament held at trim by john talbot, earl of shrewsbury, then lord-lieutenant, anno , henry vi., it was enacted 'that every irishman must keep his upper lip shaved, or else be used as an irish enemy.' the irish at this time were much attached to the national foppery of wearing mustachios, the fashion then throughout europe, and for more than two centuries after. the unfortunate paddy who became an enemy for his beard, like an enemy was treated; for the treason could only be pardoned by the surrender of his land. thus two benefits accrued to the king: his enemies were diminished, and his followers provided for; many of whose descendants enjoy the confiscated properties to this day, which may appropriately be designated hair-breadth estates." the effects of this statute became so alarming that the people submitted to the english revolutionary razor, and found it more convenient to resign their beards than their lands. this agrarian law was repealed by charles i., after existing two hundred years. the macedonian soldiers were ordered by alexander to shave, lest their beards should be handles for the enemy to capture them by. the smooth chin was adopted in the greek army. to pull a person's beard has from remote times been regarded as an act of most degrading insult. dr doran tells a tragic story bearing on this usage. "when the jew," says the doctor, "who hated and feared the living cid rui dios, heard that the great spaniard was dead, he contrived to get into the room where the body lay, and he indulged his revengeful spirit by contemptuously plucking at the beard. but the 'son of somebody' (the hidalgo) was plucked temporarily into life and indignation by the outrage; and starting up, endeavoured to get his sword, an attempt which killed the jew by mere fright which it caused." in afghanistan "the system of administering justice was such," says the "life of abdur rahman" (london, ) "that the humble were able to bring their claims before the sovereign by the simple process of getting hold of the sovereign's beard and turban, which meant to throw one's complaints on the shame of his beard, to which he was bound to listen. one day i was going to the hum-hum (turkish bath) when a man and his wife, running fast, rushed into the bathroom after me, and the husband, having got hold of my beard from the front, the wife was pulling me at the same time from behind. it was very painful, as he was pulling my beard rather hard. as there was no guard or sentry near to deliver me from their hands, i begged them to leave my beard alone, saying that i could listen without my beard being pulled, but all in vain. i was rather sorry that i had not adopted the fashion of the europeans, whose faces are clean shaven. i ordered that in future a strong guard should be placed at the door of the hum-hum." some of the ancient faiths regarded the beard as an appendage not to be touched with the razor, and a modern instance bearing on the old belief will be read with interest. mr edward vizetelly, in his entertaining volume "from cyprus to zanzibar" (london, ), tells some good stories about the priests in cyprus. mr vizetelly went to the island as soon as it passed into the hands of the british government, and remained there a few years. "on one occasion," he says, "when i happened to be in the bazaar at larnaca in the early afternoon, i was amazed to witness all the shopkeepers, apart from the maltese, suddenly putting up their shutters, as if panic-stricken, but without any apparent cause. inquiring the reason, it was only vouchsafed to me that someone had shaved off a priest's beard." the priest had been imprisoned for felling a tree in his own garden, which was against the laws of the land then in force. when in gaol the recalcitrant priest had his unclean hair and beard shorn off, in accordance with the prison regulations. the authorities were not aware that the hirsute adornments of the orthodox catholic faith were sacred. the act roused the cyprist ire, and the high commissioner had to issue orders that if any priest was locked up in future his hair and beard were to be left alone. respecting the beard are some popular sayings, and we deal with a few as follows. a familiar example is "to pull the devil by the beard." when archbishop laud was advised to escape from this country he said, "if i should get into holland, i should expose myself to the insults of those sectaries there, to whom my character is odious, and have every anabaptist come to pull me by the beard." this insulting saying is by no means confined to england. to demand a person's beard was regarded as a still greater insult. king ryons, when he sent a messenger to king arthur to demand his beard, received the following answer:-- "wel, sayd arthur, thou hast said thy message, ye whiche is ye most vylaynous and lewdest message that ever man herd sent unto a kynge. also thou mayst see, my berd is ful yong yet to make a purfyl of hit. but telle thou thy kynge this, i owe hym none homage, ne none of myn elders, but, or it be longe to, he shall do me homage on bothe his kneys, or else he shall lese his hede by ye feith of my body, for this is ye most shamefullest message that ever i herd speke of. i have aspyed, thy kyng met never yet with worshipful men; but tell hym, i wyll have his hede without he doo me homage. thenne ye messager departed." ("the byrth, lyf and actes of kyng arthur," edit, by caxton, , reprinted .) "to make any one's beard" is an old saying, which means "to cheat him," or "to deceive him." we read in chaucer's _prologue to the wife of bath_ thus:-- "in faith he shal not kepe me, but me lest: yet coude i make his berd, so mete i the" [illustration: geoffrey chaucer, born about , died .] and again, in the "reve's tale," the miller said:-- "i trow, the clerkes were aferde yet can a miller make a clerkes bearde, for all his art." a more familiar saying is "to beard a person," meaning to affront him, or to set him at defiance. todd explains the allusion in a note in his edition of spenser's _faerie queene_--"did beard affront him to his face"; so shakespeare's _king henry iv._, part i. act i.: "i beard thee to thy face"--fr. "faire la barbe à quelqu'un." ital. "fa la barbe ad uno" (upton.) see steevens's note on the use of the word beard in _king henry iv._, which is adopted, he says, "from romances, and originally signified to 'cut off the beard.'" mr john ady repton, f.s.a., to whom we are mainly indebted for our illustrations of these popular sayings, directs attention to a specimen of defiance expressed in agamemnon's speech to achilles, as translated by chapman:-- --"and so tell thy strength how eminent my power is, being compared with thine; all other making feare to vaunt equality with me, or in this proud kind beare their beards against me." in shirley's play, _a contention for honour and riches_, :-- "you have worn a sword thus long to show ye hilt, now let the blade appear. courtier.--good captain voice, it shall, and teach you manners; i have yet no ague, i can look upon your buff, and punto beard, and call for no strong waters." "it is difficult to ascertain," says repton, "when the custom of pulling the nose superseded that of pulling the beard, but most probably when the chin became naked and close shaven, affording no longer a handle for insult." in the reign of james ii., william cavendish, earl of devonshire, paid £ , for offering this insult to a person at court. an earlier instance of pulling the nose may be found in ben jonson's _epicæne, or the silent woman_, act iv. sc. . in "aubrey's letters" is an allusion to wiping the beard. "ralph kettle, d.d.," we read, "preached in st mary's church at oxford, and, in conclusion of a sermon, said, 'but now i see it is time for me to shutt up my booke, for i see the doctors' men come in wiping their beards from the ale-house' (he could from the pulpit plainly see them, and 't was their custome to go there, and, about the end of the sermon, to return to wayte on their masters)." an old play by lyly, entitled _mother bombie_ ( - ), act i. sc. , contains the following passage:-- "tush, spit not you, and i'll warrant i, my beard is as good as a handkerchief." our quotations from old plays are mainly drawn from repton's little book, "some account of the beard and moustachio," of which one hundred copies were printed for private circulation in . the extracts which we have reproduced are not such as to cause the beard to find favour with the ladies. in marston's _antonio and melida_, ( ), act v., we read as follows:-- "piero.--faith, mad niece, i wonder when thou wilt marry? "rossaline.--faith, kind uncle, when men abandon jealousy, forsake taking tobacco, and cease to wear their beards so rudely long. oh! to have a husband with a mouth continually smoking, with a bush of furze on the ridge of his chin, ready still to flop into his foaming chaps; ah! 't is more than most intolerable." in another part of the same play are other objections to the mustachios. we find in other old plays allusions to women combing and stroking beards. "there is no accounting," says repton, "for the taste of ladies. charles brandon, duke of suffolk, with his large massive beard, won the heart of the fair sister of henry viii. although the 'cloth of friez may not be too bold,' the courtship was most probably begun by the lady (_i.e._ the cloth of gold). although ladies do not speak out, they have a way of expressing their wishes by the 'eloquence of eyes.' that the fair princess ever amused herself in combing or brushing her husband's beard is not recorded in the history of england." many references find a place in bygone plays relating to combs and brushes for the beard. starching the beard was an operation which occupied some time if carefully performed. it is stated in the "life of mrs elizabeth thomas," published in , of mr richard shute, her grandfather, a turkey merchant, that he was very nice in the mode of that age, his valet being some hours every morning in starching his beard, and curling his whiskers, during which time a gentleman, whom he maintained as a companion, always read to him upon some useful subject. in closing, we have to state that cardboard boxes were worn at night in bed to protect the beard from being disarranged. taxing the beard beards, in some instances, were taxed in bygone england, but not to the same extent as in russia, which had numerous singular laws in force for nearly sixty years. in nearly all parts of europe, by the commencement of the eighteenth century, the custom of wearing beards had been given up. peter the great was wishful that his subjects should conform to the prevailing fashion. in he imposed a tax upon all those who wore either a beard or a moustache, varying from thirty to one hundred roubles per annum. it was fixed according to the rank of the taxpayer. a peasant, for instance, was only required to pay two dengops, equal to one copeck, whenever he passed through the gate of a town. this tax gave rise to much discontent, and in enforcing it the utmost vigilance had to be exercised to prevent an outbreak in the country. notwithstanding this, the law was, in , put into operation in st petersburg, which had previously been exempt. in it was ordered that all who retained their beards should wear a particular dress and pay fifty roubles annually. if a man would not shave, and was unable to pay, he was sentenced to hard labour. this law was extended to the provinces, but in peasants bringing produce into towns were wholly relieved from this tax. peter passed away in , and catherine i. confirmed all the edicts relating to the beard in the ukase dated th august . a decree was issued by peter ii. in permitting peasants employed in agriculture to wear their beards. fifty roubles had to be paid by all other persons, and the tax was rigidly enforced. the empress anne took a firm attitude against the beard. in she promulgated a ukase by which all persons not engaged in husbandry retaining their beards were entered in the class of raskolnicks, in addition to paying the beard tax of fifty roubles, double the amount of all other taxes. in the empress elizabeth confirmed the existing decrees in all their force. peter iii., on his accession to the throne in , intended to strengthen the laws of his predecessors, and prepared some stringent measures; but his sudden death prevented them from being put into force. his widow, catherine ii. ( ), did not share his feelings in this matter, and immediately on obtaining sovereign power she removed every restriction relating to the beard. she invited the raskolnicks, who had fled from the country to avoid the objectionable edicts, to return, and assigned land to them for their settlement. [illustration: russian beard token, a.d. .] during thirty-eight years in russia, the beard-token or borodoráia (the bearded), as it was called, was in use. as we write we have one of these tokens before us, and on one side are represented a nose, mouth, moustaches, and a large flowing beard, with the inscription "dinge vsatia," which means "money received"; the reverse bears the year in russian characters (equivalent to " year"), and the black eagle of the empire. our facts are mainly drawn from a paper by mr walter hawkins in the "numismatic chronicle," volume vii., . he says that beard-tokens are rare, and he thinks that the national aversion to their origin probably caused their destruction or dispersion after they had served their purpose for the year. powdering the hair in the olden days hair-powder was largely used in this country, and many circumstances connected with its history are curious and interesting. we learn from josephus that the jews used hair-powder, and from the east it was no doubt imported into rome. the history of the luxurious days of the later roman empire supplies some strange stories. at this period gold-dust was employed by several of the emperors. "the hair of commodus," it is stated on the authority of herodian, "glittered from its natural whiteness, and from the quantity of essences and gold-dust with which it was loaded, so that when the sun was shining it might have been thought that his head was on fire." it is supposed, and not without a good show of reason, that the saxons used coloured hair-powder, or perhaps they dyed their hair. in saxon pictures the beard and hair are often painted blue. strutt supplies interesting notes on the subject. "in some instances," he says, "which, indeed, are not so common, the hair is represented of a bright red colour, and in others it is of a green and orange hue. i have no doubt existing in my own mind, that arts of some kind were practised at this period to colour the hair; but whether it was done by tingeing or dyeing it with liquids prepared for that purpose according to the ancient eastern custom, or by powders of different hues cast into it, agreeably to the modern practice, i shall not presume to determine." it was customary among the gauls to wash the hair with a lixivium made of chalk in order to increase its redness. the same custom was maintained in england for a long period, and was not given up until after the reign of elizabeth. the sandy-coloured hair of the queen greatly increased the popularity of the practice. the satirists have many allusions to this subject, more especially those of the reigns of james and charles i. in a series of epigrams entitled "wit's recreations," , the following appears under the heading of _our monsieur powder-wig_:-- "oh, doe but marke yon crisped sir, you meet! how like a pageant he doth walk the street! see how his perfumed head is powdered ore; 'twou'd stink else, for it wanted salt before." in "musarum deliciæ," , we read:-- "at the devill's shopps you buy a dresse of powdered hayre, on which your feathers flaunt and fly; but i'de wish you have a care, lest lucifer's selfe, who is not prouder, do one day dresse up your haire with a powder." from the pen of r. younge, in , appeared "the impartial monitor." the author closes with a tirade against female follies in these words: "it were a good deed to tell men also of mealing their heads and shoulders, of wearing fardingales about their legs, etc.; for these likewise deserve the rod, since all that are discreet do but hate and scorn them for it." a _loyal litany_ against the oliverians runs thus:-- "from a king-killing saint, patch, powder, and paint, libera nos, domine." massinger, in the "city madam," printed in , describing the dress of a rich merchant's wife, mentions powder thus:-- "since your husband was knighted, as i said, the reverend hood cast off, your borrowed hair powdered and curled, was by your dresser's art, formed like a coronet, hanged with diamonds and richest orient pearls." john gay, in his poem, "trivia, or the art of walking the streets of london," published in , advises in passing a coxcomb-- "him like the miller, pass with caution by, lest from his shoulder clouds of powder fly." we learn from the "annals of the barber-surgeons" some particulars respecting the taxing of powder. on th august , "mr john brooks," it is stated, "attended and produced a deed to which he requested the subscription of the court; this deed recited that by an act of parliament passed in the tenth year of queen anne, it was enacted that a duty of twopence per pound should be laid upon all starch imported, and of a penny per pound upon all starch made in great britain, that no perfumer, barber, or seller of hair-powder should mix any powder of alabaster, plaster of paris, whiting, lime, etc. (sweet scents excepted), with any starch to be made use of for making hair-powder, under a pain of forfeiting the hair-powder and £ , and that any person who should expose the same for sale should forfeit it and £ ." other details were given in the deed, and the barber-surgeons gave it their support, and promised twenty guineas towards the cost of passing the bill through parliament. a few years prior to the above proceeding we gather from the _gentleman's magazine_ particulars of some convictions for using powder not made in accordance with the laws of the land. "on the th october, ," it is recorded, "fifty-one barbers were convicted before the commissioners of excise, and fined in the penalty of £ , for having in their custody hair-powder not made of starch, contrary to act of parliament: and on the th of the same month, forty-nine other barbers were convicted of the same offence, and fined in the like penalty." before powder was used, the hair was generally greased with pomade, and powdering operations were attended with some trouble. in houses of any pretension was a small room set apart for the purpose, and it was known as the powdering-room. here were fixed two curtains, and the person went behind, exposing the head only, which received its proper supply of powder without any going on the clothes of the individual dressed. in the _rambler_, no. , under date , a young gentleman writes that his mother would rather follow him to his grave than see him sneak about with dirty shoes and blotted fingers, hair unpowdered, and a hat uncocked. we have seen that hair-powder was taxed, and on the th of may, , an act of parliament was passed taxing persons using it. pitt was in power, and being sorely in need of money, hit upon the plan of a tax of a guinea per head on those who used hair powder. he was prepared to meet much ridicule by this movement, but he saw that it would yield a considerable revenue, estimating it at as much as £ , a year. fox, with force, said that a fiscal arrangement dependent on a capricious fashion must be regarded as an absurdity, but the opposition were unable to defeat the proposal, and the act was passed. pitt's powerful rival, charles james fox, in his early manhood, was one of the most fashionable men in london. here are a few particulars of his "get up" about , drawn from the _monthly magazine_: "he had his chapeau-bas, his red-heeled shoes, and his blue hair-powder." later, when pitt's tax was gathered, like other whigs, he refused to use hair-powder. for more than a quarter of a century it had been customary for men to wear their hair long, tied in a pig-tail and powdered. pitt's measure gave rise to a number of crop clubs. the _times_ for april th, , contains particulars of one. "a numerous club," says the paragraph, "has been formed in lambeth, called the crop club, every member of which, on his entrance, is obliged to have his head docked as close as the duke of bridgewater's old bay coach-horses. this assemblage is instituted for the purpose of opposing, or rather evading, the tax on powdered heads." hair cropping was by no means confined to the humbler ranks of society. the _times_ of april th, , reports that: "the following noblemen and gentlemen were at the party with the duke of bedford, at woburn abbey, when a general cropping and combing out of hair-powder took place: lord w. russell, lord villiers, lord paget, etc., etc. they entered into an engagement to forfeit a sum of money if any of them wore their hair tied, or powdered, within a certain period. many noblemen and gentlemen in the county of bedford have since followed the example: it has become general with the gentry in hampshire, and the ladies have left off wearing powder." hair powder did not long continue in use in the army, for in it was abolished on account of the high price of flour, caused through the bad harvests. using flour for the hair instead of for food was an old grievance among the poor. in the "art of dressing the hair," , the author complains:-- "their hoarded grain contractors spare, and starve the poor to beautify the hair." pitt's estimates proved correct, for in the first year the tax produced £ , . the tax was increased from a guinea to one pound three shillings and sixpence. pitt's tory friends gave him loyal support. the whigs might taunt them by calling them "guinea-pigs," it mattered little, for they were not merely ready to pay the tax for themselves, but to pay patriotic guineas for their servants. a number of persons were exempt from paying the tax, including "the royal family and their servants, the clergy with an income of under £ per annum, subalterns, non-commissioned officers and privates of the yeomanry and volunteers enrolled during the past year. a father having more than two unmarried daughters might obtain on payment for two, a licence for the remainder." a gentleman took out a licence for his butler, coachman, and footman, etc., and if he changed during the year it stood good for the newly engaged servants. powder was not wholly set aside by ladies until , when with consideration queen charlotte abandoned its use, swayed no doubt by her desire to cheapen, in that time of dearth, the flour of which it was made. it has been said its disuse was attributable to sir joshua reynolds, angelica kauffmann, and other painters of their day, but it is much more likely that the artists painted the hair "full and flowing" because they found it so, not that they as a class dictated to their patronesses in despite of fashion. the french revolution had somewhat to do with the change; a powdered head or wig was a token of aristocracy, and as the fashion might lead to the guillotine, sensible people discarded it long before the english legislature put a tax upon its use. with reference to this sir walter scott says, in the fifth chapter of "the antiquary:" "regular were the antiquary's inquiries at an old-fashioned barber, who dressed the only three wigs in the parish, which, in defiance of taxes and times, were still subjected to the operation of powdering and frizzling, and who for that purpose divided his time among the three employers whom fashion had yet left him. "'fly with this letter, caxon,' said the senior ('the antiquary'), holding out his missive, 'fly to knockwinnock, and bring me back an answer. go as fast as if the town council were met and waiting for the provost, and the provost was waiting for his new powdered wig.' 'ah, sir,' answered the messenger, with a deep sigh, 'thae days hae lang gane by. deil a wig has a provost of fairport worn sin' auld provost jervie's time--and he had a quean of a servant lass that dressed it hersel', wi' the doup o' a candle and a dredging box. but i hae seen the day, monkbarns, when the town council of fairport wad hae as soon wanted their town-clerk, or their gill of brandy owerhead after the haddies, as they wad hae wanted ilk ane a weel-favoured, sonsy, decent periwig on his pow. hegh, sirs! nae wonder the commons will be discontent, and rise against the law, when they see magistrates, and bailies, and deacons, and the provost himsel', wi' heads as bald an' as bare as one o' my blocks.'" it was not in scotland alone that the barber was peripatetic. "in the eighteenth century," says mrs g. linnæus banks, author of the "manchester man" and other popular novels, "he waited on his chief customers or patrons at their own homes, not merely to shave, but to powder the hair or the wig, and he had to start on his round betimes. where the patron was the owner of a spare periwig it might be dressed in advance, and sent home in a box or mounted on a stand, such as a barrister keeps handy at the present day. but when ladies had powdered top-knots, the hairdresser made his harvest, especially when a ball or a rout made the calls for his services many and imperative. when at least a couple of hours were required for the arrangement of a single toupée or tower, or commode, as the head-dress was called, it may be well understood that for two or three days prior to the ball the hairdresser was in demand, and as it was impossible to lie down without disarranging the structure he had raised on pads, or framework of wire, plastering with pomatum and disguising with powder, the belles so adorned or disfigured were compelled to sit up night and day, catching what sleep was possible in a chair. and when i add that a head so dressed was rarely disturbed for ten days or a fortnight, it needs no stretch of imagination to realise what a mass of loathsome nastiness the fine ladies of the last century carried about with them, or what strong stomachs the barbers must have had to deal with them." when the eighteenth century was drawing to a close the cry for bread was heard in the land. in the price of grain rose very high on account of the small supplies coming into the market. bakers in many instances sold bread deficient in weight, and to check the fraud many shopkeepers were fined sums from £ , s. to £ , s. the privy council gave the matter serious consideration, and strongly urged that families should refrain from having puddings, pies, and other articles made of flour. king george iii. gave orders in for the bread used in his household to be made of meal and rye mixed. he would not permit any other sort to be baked, and the royal family partook of the same quality of bread as was eaten by the servants. a great deal of flour was used as hair powder, and an attempt was made to check its use. the following is a copy of a municipal proclamation issued at great yarmouth, the original of which is preserved in the office of the town clerk:-- "disuse of hair powder. "owing to the present enormous price of corn, and the alarming approach of a scarcity in that most necessary article, many towns throughout the kingdom have set the laudable example of leaving off for a time the custom of wearing powder for the hair; by which means a great quantity of wheat must infallibly be saved to the nation; and if the price be not reduced, it may at least be prevented from increasing. we, therefore, the mayor, justices, and principal inhabitants of great yarmouth, do recommend this example as worthy to be imitated; and we flatter ourselves the military will not hesitate to adopt it, being fully convinced that appearances are at all times to be sacrificed to the public weal, and that in doing this they really do good. "w. taylor, mayor. "january th, ." lord hawkesbury, on february th, , presented a bill in the house of commons prohibiting bakers from vending bread that had not been baked a certain number of hours. the bill was read a first and second time, and immediately went into committee. it passed this stage, and went to the house of lords, where it was at once passed. subsequently it received the royal assent. we find in a local paper, dated march st, , that a baker in hull was fined £ for selling bread within twenty-four hours of its having been baked, agreeable to act of parliament for that purpose. the tories often regarded with mistrust any persons who did not use hair-powder. the rev. j. charles cox, ll.d., f.s.a., the eminent antiquary, relates a good story respecting his grandfather. "so late as ," says dr cox, "major cox of derby, an excellent tory, declined for some time to allow his son edward to become a pupil of a well-known clerical tutor, for the sole reason that the clergyman did not powder, and wore his hair short, arguing that he must therefore be a dangerous revolutionist." in the tax on hair-powder was repealed, when only some persons paid it, producing about £ per year. the age of wigs at the present time, when the wig is no longer worn by the leaders of fashion, we cannot fully realise the important place it held in bygone times. professional as well as fashionable people did not dare to appear in public without their wigs, which vied with each other in size and style. [illustration: egyptian wig (probably for female), from the british museum.] to trace the origin of the wig our investigations must be carried to far distant times. it was worn in egypt in former days, and the egyptians are said to have invented it, not merely as a covering for baldness, but as a means of adding to the attractiveness of the person wearing it. on the mummies of egypt wigs are found, and we give a picture of one now in the british museum. this particular wig probably belonged to a female, and was found near the small temple of isis, thebes. it was customary in egypt to shave the head, and the wig was an excellent covering for the head, much better than a turban, for the wig protected it from the rays of the sun, and its texture allowed the transpiration of the head to escape. the wigs were worn both within the house and out of doors. the specimens of egyptian wigs in the british museum consist of curled hair in the upper portions, and the lower parts and sides are made of plaited hair. ointment was used at the top of the wig in the same manner as if it had been hair growing on the head. assyrian sculptures frequently represent the wig, and its use is recorded among ancient nations including persians, medes, lydians, carians, greeks, and romans. _galerus_, a round cap, was the common name among the romans for a wig. the early fathers of the church denounced the wig as an invention of the evil one. st gregory of nazianzus, as a proof of the virtue of his simple sister gorgonia, said "she neither cared to curl her own hair, nor to repair its lack of beauty by the aid of a wig." st jerome pronounced these adornments as unworthy of christianity. the matter received consideration, or perhaps, to put it more correctly, condemnation, at many councils, commencing at constantinople, and coming down to the provincial council at tours. the wig was not tolerated, even if worn as a joke. "there is no joke in the matter," said the enraged st bernard: "the woman who wears a wig commits a mortal sin." st john chrysostom pleaded powerfully against this enormity; and others might be mentioned who spoke with no uncertain sound against this fashion. dr doran relates a strange story, saying that st jerome vouches for its authenticity, and that by him it was told to deter ladies from wearing wigs. "prætexta," to use doran's words, "was a very respectable lady, married to a somewhat paganist husband, hymetius. their niece, eustachia, resided with them. at the instigation of the husband, prætexta took the shy eustachia in hand, attired her in a splendid dress and covered her fair neck with ringlets. having enjoyed the sight of the modest maiden so attired, prætexta went to bed. to that bedside immediately descended an angel, with wrath upon his brow, and billows of angry sounds rolling from his lips. 'thou hast,' said the spirit, 'obeyed thy husband rather than the lord, and hast dared to deck the hair of a virgin, and make her look like a daughter of earth. for this do i wither up thy hands, and bid them recognise the enormity of thy crime in the amount of thy anguish and bodily suffering. five months more shalt thou live, and then hell shall be thy portion; and if thou art bold enough to touch the head of eustachia again, thy husband and thy children shall die even before thee.'" church history furnishes some strange stories against wearing wigs, and the following may be taken as a good example. clemens of alexandria, so runs the tale, surprised wig-wearers by telling those who knelt at church that to receive the blessing, they must please to bear in mind that the benediction remained on the wig, and did not pass through to the wearer! some immediately removed their wigs, but others allowed them to remain, no doubt hoping to receive a blessing. history supplies many interesting passages bearing on our present investigations. the lycians, having been engaged in war, were defeated. mausoleus, their conqueror, ruthlessly directed the subdued men to have their heads shaven. this was humiliating in the extreme, and the lycians were keenly alive to their ridiculous appearance. the king's general was tempted with bribes, and finally yielded, and allowed wigs to be imported for them from greece, and thus the symbol of degradation became the pink of lycian fashion. hannibal, the brave soldier, is recorded to have worn two sorts of wigs, one to improve, and the other to disguise his person. wigs are said to have been worn in england in the reign of king stephen, but their palmy days belong to the seventeenth and the earlier part of the eighteenth centuries. according to stow, they were introduced into this country about the time of the massacre of paris, but they are not often alluded to until the reign of queen elizabeth. the earliest payment for one in the privy purse expenses occurs in december , and is for twenty shillings "for a perwyke for sexton, the king's fool." some twenty years later wigs, or, to give the full title, periwigs, became popular. in france the mania was at its height in the reign of louis xiv. we are told that in he had not fewer than forty court perruquiers, and these, by an order of council, were declared artistes. in addition to this, le gros instituted at paris an académie de france des perruquiers. robinson records that a storm was gathering about their heads. he tells us "the celebrated colbert, amazed at the large sums spent for foreign hair, conceived the idea of prohibiting the wearing of wigs at court, and tried to introduce a kind of cap." he lost the day, for it was proved that more money reached the country for wigs than went out to purchase hair. the fashion increased; larger wigs were worn, and some even cost £ apiece. charles ii. was the earliest english king represented on the great seal wearing a large periwig. dr doran assures us that the king did not bring the fashion to whitehall. "he forbade," we are told, "the members of the universities to wear periwigs, smoke tobacco, or to read their sermons. the members did all three, and charles soon found himself doing the first two." pepys' "diary" contains much interesting information concerning wigs. under date of nd november, , he writes: "i heard the duke say that he was going to wear a periwig, and says the king also will. i never till this day observed that the king is mighty gray." it was perhaps the change in the colour of his majesty's hair that induced him to assume the head-dress he had previously so strongly condemned. as might be expected, pepys, who delighted to be in the fashion, adopted the wig. he took time to consider the matter, and had consultations with mr jervas, his old barber, about the affair. referring in his "diary" to one of his visits to his hairdresser, pepys says, "i did try two or three borders and periwigs, meaning to wear one, and yet i have no stomach for it; but that the pains of keeping my hair clean is great. he trimmed me, and at last i parted, but my mind was almost altered from my first purpose, from the trouble which i foresee in wearing them also." weeks passed before he could make up his mind to wear a wig. mrs pepys was taken to the periwig-maker's shop to see the one made for mr pepys, and expressed her satisfaction on seeing it. we read of the wig being at jervas's under repair in april . early in may, pepys writes in his "diary," that he suffered his hair to grow long, in order to wear it; but he said, "i will have it cut off all short again, and will keep to periwigs." later, under date of september rd, he writes: "lord's day. up; and put on my coloured silk suit, very fine, and my new periwig, bought a good while since, but durst not wear, because the plague was in westminster when i bought it; and it is a wonder what will be in fashion, after the plague is done, as to periwigs, for nobody will dare to buy any hair, for fear of the infection, that it had been cut off the heads of people dead of the plague." we learn from an entry in the "diary" for june th, , that ladies, in addition to assuming masculine costume for riding, wore long wigs. "walking in the galleries at whitehall," observes mr pepys, "i find the ladies of honour dressed in their riding garbs, with coats and doublets with deep skirts, just for all the world like mine, and buttoned their doublets up the breast, with periwigs and with hats, so that, only for long petticoats dragging under their men's coats, nobody could take them for women in any point whatever." pepys, we have seen, wondered if periwigs would survive after the terrible plague. he thought not, but he was mistaken. wigs still remained popular. the plague passed away, and its terrors were forgotten. the world of folly went on much as of yore, perhaps with greater gaiety, as a reaction to the lengthened time of depression. [illustration: the earl of albemarle.] in some instances the wig appears much out of place, and a notable example is that given in the portrait by kneller, of george, earl of albemarle. he is dressed in armour, and wearing a long flowing wig. anything more absurd could scarcely be conceived. the beau of the period when the wig was popular carried in his pocket beautifully made combs, and in his box at the play, or in other places, combed his periwig, and rendered himself irresistible to the ladies. making love seems to have been the chief aim of his life. sir john hawkins, in his "history of music," published in , has an informing note on combing customs. "on the mall and in the theatre," he tells us, "gentlemen conversed and combed their perukes. there is now in being a fine picture by the elder laroon of john, duke of marlborough, at his levée, in which his grace is represented dressed in a scarlet suit, with large white satin cuffs, and a very long white peruke which he combs, while his valet, who stands behind him, adjusts the curls after the comb has passed through them." allusions to this practice may be found in the plays from the reign of charles ii. down to the days of queen anne. we read in dryden's prologue to "almanzor and almahide":-- "but as when vizard mask appears in pit, straight every man who thinks himself a wit perks up, and, managing a comb with grace, with his white wig sets off his nut-brown face." says congreve, in the "way of the world":-- "the gentlemen stay but to comb, madam, and will wait on you." [illustration: man with wig and muff, (_from a print of the period_).] thomas brown, in his "letters from the dead to the living," presents a pen-portrait of beaux as they appeared at the commencement of the eighteenth century. some of the passages are well worth reproducing, as they contain valuable information concerning wigs. "we met," says the writer, "three flaming beaux of the first magnitude. he in the middle made a most magnificent figure--his periwig was large enough to have loaded a camel, and he bestowed upon it at least a bushel of powder, i warrant you. his sword-knot dangled upon the ground, and his steinkirk, that was most agreeably discoloured with snuff from the top to the bottom, reach'd down to his waist; he carry'd his hat under his left arm, walk'd with both hands in the waistband of his breeches, and his cane, that hung negligently down in a string from his right arm, trail'd most harmoniously against the pebbles, while the master of it was tripping it nicely upon his toes or humming to himself." about this period in cold weather men wore muffs as well as wigs. a ballad, describing the frost fair on the thames in the winter of - , mentions amongst those present:-- "a spark of the bar with his cane and his muff." [illustration: campaign wig.] down to the middle of the eighteenth century wigs continued to increase in size. it will not now be without interest to direct attention to a few of the many styles of wigs. randle holme, in his "academy of armory," published in , has some interesting illustrations, and we will draw upon him for a couple of pictures. our first example is called the campaign-wig. he says it "hath knobs or bobs, or dildo, on each side, with a curled forehead." this is not so cumbrous as a periwig we have noticed. another example from holme is a smaller style of periwig with tail, and from this wig doubtless originated the familiar pig-tail. it was of various forms, and swift says:-- "we who wear our wigs with fantail and with snake." [illustration: periwig with tail.] a third example given by holme is named the "short-bob," and is a plain peruke, imitating a natural head of hair. "perukes," says malcolm, in his "manners and customs," "were an highly important article in . those of right gray human hair were four guineas each; light grizzle ties, three guineas; and other colours in proportion, to twenty-five shillings. right gray human hair, cue perukes, from two guineas; white, fifteen shillings each, which was the price of dark ones; and right gray bob perukes, two guineas and a half; fifteen shillings was the price of dark bobs. those mixed with horse-hair were much lower. it will be observed from the gradations in price, that real gray hair was most in fashion, and dark of no estimation." as time ran its course, wigs became more varied in form, and bore different names. [illustration: ramillie wig.] we find in the days of queen anne such designations as black riding-wigs, bag-wigs, and nightcap-wigs. these were in addition to the long, formally curled perukes. in the english, led by marlborough, gained a great victory on the battlefield of ramillies, and that gave the title to a long wig described as "having a long, gradually diminishing, plaited tail, called the 'ramillie-tail,' which was tied with a great bow at the top, and a smaller one at the bottom." it was at the great battle fought before the town of ramillies that france lost the whole spanish netherlands, and europe gained a wig from the vanity of louis xiv., of whom thackeray irreverently speaks in his "henry esmond," as "a little, wrinkled old man, pock-marked, and with a great periwig and red heels." lord lyttelton in his letters thus refers to the french king: "louis xiv. annexed great dignity to his peruke, which he increased to an enormous size, and made a lion's mane the object of its similitude. that monarch, who daily studied the part of a king, was never seen uncovered but by the barber who shaved him. it was not his practice to exchange his wig for a nightcap till he was enclosed by his curtains, when a page received the former from his hand and delivered it to him in the morning before he undrew them. the figure of the great bourbon must at times have been truly ridiculous." it is stated in read's _weekly journal_ of may st, , in a report of the marriage of the prince of wales, that "the officers of the horse and foot guards wore ramillie periwigs by his majesty's order." this wig survived until the days of george iii. we meet, in the reign of george ii., other forms of the wig, and more titles for them; the most popular, perhaps, was the pig-tail. the pig-tails were worn hanging down the back, or tied up in a knot behind as shown in our illustration. this form of wig was popular in the army, but in orders were given for it to be reduced to seven inches in length, and finally, in , to be cut off. it is recorded that when the reform bill of received the royal assent, the lord bathurst of the period solemnly cut off his pig-tail, saying, "ichabod, for the glory was departed." [illustration: pig-tail wig.] in the first reformed parliament only one pig-tail was returned, and that was mr sheppard, m.p. for frome. [illustration: bag-wig.] here is a picture of an ordinary man; by no means can he be regarded as a beau. he is wearing a common bag-wig, dating back to about the middle of the eighteenth century. the style is modified to suit an individual taste, and for one who did not follow the extreme fashion of his time. in this example may be observed the sausage curls over the ear, and the frizziness over the forehead. we have directed attention to the large periwigs, and given a portrait of the earl of albemarle wearing one. in the picture of the house of commons in the time of sir robert walpole we get an excellent indication of how popular the periwig was amongst the lawmakers of the land. farquhar, in a comedy called "love and a bottle," brought out in , says, "a full wig is imagined to be as infallible a token of wit as the laurel." tillotson is usually regarded as the first amongst the english clergy to adopt the wig. he said in one of his sermons: "i can remember since the wearing of hair below the ears was looked upon as a sin of the first magnitude, and when ministers generally, whatever their text was, did either find or make occasion to reprove the great sin of long hair; and if they saw any one in the congregation guilty in that kind, they would point him out particularly, and let fly at him with great zeal." dr tillotson died on november th, . wigs found favour with parsons, and in course of time they appear to have been indispensable. a volume, in , was issued under the title of "free advice to a young clergyman," from the pen of the rev. john chubbe, in which he recommended the young preacher always to wear a full wig until age had made his own hair respectable. dr randolph, on his advancement to the bishopric, presumed to wait upon george iv. to kiss hands without wearing a wig. this could not be overlooked by the king, and he said, "my lord, you must have a wig." bishops wore wigs until the days of william iv. bishop blomfield is said to have been the first bishop to set the example of wearing his own hair. even as late as , at the marriage of the princess royal of england, archbishop sumner appeared in his wig. medical men kept up the custom of wearing wigs for a long period: perhaps they felt like a character in fielding's farce, "the mock doctor," who exclaims, "i must have a physician's habit, for a physician can no more prescribe without a full wig than without a fee." the wig known as the full-bottomed wig was worn by the medical profession:-- "physic of old her entry made beneath the immense, full-bottom'd shade; while the gilt cane, with solemn pride to each suspicious nose applied, seemed but a necessary prop to bear the weight of wig at top." we are told dr delmahoy's wig was particularly celebrated in a song which commenced:-- "if you would see a noble wig, and in that wig a man look big, to ludgate hill repair, my boy, and gaze on dr delmahoy." in the middle of the last century so much importance was attached to this portion of a medical man's costume, that dr brocklesby's barber was in the habit of carrying a bandbox through the high change, exclaiming: "make way for dr brocklesby's wig!" professional wigs are now confined to the speaker in the house of commons, who, when in the chair, wears a full-bottomed one, and to judges and barristers. such wigs are made of horse-hair, cleaned and curled with care, and woven on silk threads, and shaped to fit the head with exactness. the cost of a barrister's wig of frizzed hair is from five to six guineas. an eminent counsel in years agone wished to make a motion before judge cockburn, and in his hurry appeared without a wig. "i hear your voice," sternly said his lordship, "but i cannot see you." the barrister had to obtain the loan of a wig from a learned friend before the judge would listen to him. lord eldon suffered much from headache, and when he was raised to the peerage he petitioned the king to allow him to dispense with the wig. he was refused, his majesty saying he could not permit such an innovation. in vain did his lordship show that the wig was an innovation, as the old judges did not wear them. "true," said the king; "the old judges wore beards." in more recent times we have particulars of several instances of both bench and bar discarding the use of the wig. at the summer assizes at lancaster, in , a barrister named mr scarlett hurried into court, and was permitted to take part in a trial without his wig and gown. next day the whole of the members of the bar appeared without their professional badges, but only on this occasion, although on the previous day a hope had been expressed that the time was not far distant when the mummeries of costume would be entirely discarded. we learn from a report in the _times_ of july th, , that on account of the unprecedented heat of the weather on the day before, in the court of probate and divorce the learned judge and bar appeared without wigs. on july nd, , it is recorded that dr kenealy rose to open the case for the defence in the tichborne suit; he sought and obtained permission to remove his wig on account of the excessive heat. towards the close of the eighteenth century few were the young men at the universities who ventured to wear their own hair, and such as did were designated apollos. women, as well as men, called into requisition, to add to their charms, artificial accessories in the form of wigs and curls. ladies' hair was curled and frizzed with considerable care, and frequently false curls were worn under the name of heart-breakers. it will be seen from the illustration we give that these curls increased the beauty of a pretty face. queen elizabeth, we gather from hentzner and other authorities, wore false hair. we are told that ladies, in compliment to her, dyed their hair a sandy hue, the natural colour of the queen's locks. [illustration: heart-breakers.] it is recorded that mary queen of scots obtained wigs from edinburgh not merely while in scotland, but during her long and weary captivity in england. from "the true report of the last moments of mary stuart," it appears that when the executioner lifted the head by the hair to show it to the spectators, it fell from his hands owing to the hair being false. we have previously mentioned pepys' allusions to women and wigs in . coming down to later times, we read in the _whitehall evening post_ of august th, , that when the king, george ii., reviewed the guards, the three eldest princesses "went to richmond in riding habits, with hats, and feathers, and periwigs." [illustration: with and without a wig.] it will be seen from the picture of a person with and without a wig that its use made a plain face presentable. there is a good election story of daniel o'connell. it is related during a fierce debate on the hustings, o'connell with his biting witty tongue, attacked his opponent on account of his ill-favoured countenance. but, not to be outdone, and thinking to turn the gathering against o'connell, his adversary called out, "take off your wig, and i'll warrant that you'll prove the uglier." the witty irishman immediately responded, amidst roars of laughter from the crowd, by snatching the wig from off his own head and exposing to view a bald pate, destitute of a single hair. the relative question of beauty was scarcely settled by this amusing rejoinder, but the laugh was certainly on o'connell's side. an interesting tale is told of peter the great of russia. in the year , the famous emperor was at dantzig, taking part in a public ceremony, and feeling his head somewhat cold, he stretched out his hand, and seizing the wig from the head of the burgomaster sitting below him, he placed it on his own regal head. the surprise of the spectators may be better imagined than described. on the czar returning the wig, his attendants explained that his majesty was in the habit of borrowing the wig of any nobleman within reach on similar occasions. his majesty, it may be added, was short of hair. wigs were not confined to men. at the commencement of the eighteenth century little boys attended school in wigs and cocked hats. "had i lived in the reign of good queen anne," wrote lord lyttelton, "my baby face must have been adorned with a full-bottomed periwig as large as that which bedecks the head and shoulders of mr justice blackstone when he scowls at the unhappy culprit who is arraigned before him." we learn from miss agnes strickland that "marie antoinette was the first person who broke the absurd fashion of dressing infant boys as droll miniatures of their fathers. she attired the unfortunate dauphin in a simple blue jacket and trousers, for which she was reviled, as if little bag-wigs and tiny cocked-hats, and all the paraphernalia of full dress, had been points of moral obligation. there are noblemen yet in existence," she says, when writing her history, "who can remember, at six years old, joining the juvenile parties given by george iii. and queen charlotte, dressed after the models of their fathers' court costumes, with powdered side-curls, single-breasted coat, knee-buckles, and shoe-buckles." it will not be without interest to give a picture of a full-bottomed wig, and we select as an example the one worn by the great lord mansfield. it was made by mr williams, a noted barber in his day, who had among his patrons many famous men, including dr samuel johnson, but he prided himself most on making the full state wig for lord mansfield, and the one which is represented on his imposing monument in westminster abbey. after the famous lawyer had been laid to rest, the wig which is represented on his monument was the subject of a very odd litigation, which was fully reported in the _times_ for . an action, it is stated, was brought by mr williams, a barber, against mr lawrence, to recover lord mansfield's full state wig, which had again come into the possession of the perruquier after the death of his lordship. the wig had been graciously lent by the barber to one lawrence, belonging to the legal profession, but also an amateur actor. in this wig, we are told, he proposed to disport himself in the character of shylock. the plaintiff could not get it back again, and brought the action for its recovery. the wig had been accidentally burnt, and the judge awarded the plaintiff the sum of £ as a compensation for the loss of the relic. [illustration: lord mansfield.] stealing wigs [illustration: stealing a wig.] in the palmy days of wigs the price of a full-wig of an english gentleman was from thirty to forty guineas. street quarrels in the olden time were by no means uncommon; care had to be exercised that wigs were not lost. swift says:-- "triumphing tories and desponding whigs, forget their feuds, and join to save their wigs." although precautions were taken to prevent wigs being stolen, we are told that robberies were frequently committed. sam rogers thus describes a successful mode of operation: "a boy was carried covered over in a butcher's tray by a tall man, and the wig was twisted off in a moment by the boy. the bewildered owner looked all round for it, when an accomplice impeded his progress under the pretence of assisting him while the tray-bearer made off." gay, in _trivia_, thus writes:-- "nor is the flaxen wig with safety worn: high on the shoulders in a basket borne lurks the sly boy, whose hand, to rapine bred, plucks off the curling honours of thy head." the wig-makers' riot on february th, , a curious spectacle was witnessed in the streets of london, and one which caused some amusement. fashion had changed; the peruke was no longer in favour, and only worn to a limited extent. a large number of peruke-makers had been thrown out of employment, and distress prevailed amongst them. the sufferers thought that help might be obtained from george iii., and a petition was accordingly drawn up for the enforcement of gentlefolk to wear wigs for the benefit of the wig-makers. a procession was formed, and waited upon the king at st james's palace. his majesty, it is said, returned a gracious answer, but it must have cost him considerable effort to maintain his gravity. besides the monarch, the unemployed had to encounter the men of the metropolis, and we learn from a report of the period they did not fare so well. "as the distressed men went processionally through the town," says the account, "it was observed that most of the wig-makers, who wanted other people to wear them, wore no wigs themselves; and this striking the london mob as something monstrously unfair and inconsistent, they seized the petitioners, and cut off all their hair per force." horace walpole alludes to this ludicrous petition in one of his letters. "should we wonder," he writes, "if carpenters were to remonstrate that since the peace there is no demand for wooden legs?" the wags of the period could not allow the opportunity to pass without attempting to provoke more mirth out of the matter, and a petition was published purporting to come from the body-carpenters imploring his majesty to wear a wooden leg, and to enjoin his servants to appear in his royal presence with the same graceful decoration. the moustache movement at the present time, when moustaches are general, it is difficult to realise the opposition raised against them in this country half a century ago. few outside the military had the courage to follow a fashion which has become general. in the first year of the reign of queen victoria, we gather from the police court proceedings at marlborough street, london, how unpopular at that period was the moustache. the following report is drawn from the _times_ of september st, : "yesterday, a young man, 'bearded like the pard,' who said he was a carpenter employed on the london and birmingham railroad, applied to mr rawlinson, the sitting magistrate, for an assault warrant, under the following ludicrous circumstances. "mr rawlinson: what do you want a warrant for? "applicant: i'll tell your worship, and you'll say it's the most haggrawating, and provoking thing as ever was heard on. vell then, i goes to my vork, as usual, this 'ere morning, ven one of my shopmates said to me, 'bill, you arn't shaved your hupper lip lately,' says i. 'vy,' says he 'cos,' i replied, 'i intends vearing mustachios to look like a gentleman,' 'vell, then,' says he, 'as you intends to become a fashionable gentleman, p'raps you'll have no objection to forfeit half-a-gallon of ale, as it's the rule here that every workman vot sports mustachios, to have them vetted a bit.' vell, has i refused to have my mustachios christened, they made game of them, and said they weren't half fledged; and, more nor all that, they hustled me about, and stole my dinner out of the pot, and treated me shameful, and so i want your advice respecting my mustachios. "mr rawlinson: my advice is, go to the barber and have them shaved off without loss of time. "applicant: can't part with a single hair. "mr rawlinson: you want to look like a grenadier, i suppose? "applicant: my granny-dear (god bless her dear old soul!), she never had such a fashionable and warlike appendage in her life. "mr rawlinson: what business has a carpenter with a quantity of long hair hanging from his lip? "applicant: the reason vy i rears it is 'cos it's fashionable, and makes me look like a man of some courage. "mr rawlinson: fashionable, indeed! i wish, with all my heart, that the fashion was discontinued. why need an englishman make a jew of himself? it is disgusting to see persons strutting through the streets with mustachios, and sometimes a fringe of hair round the face and chin, which is dignified by the name of whiskers. as you won't take my advice, i can't assist you. "applicant: vot! not for striking me on the hupper lip? "mr rawlinson: then your moustachios must have saved you. "applicant: no, they didn't. "mr rawlinson: how's that? "applicant: 'cos the hair ain't long and thick enough; they're only young 'uns as yet. there was no occasion to strike me. "mr rawlinson: and there's no occasion for you to wear mustachios. you may have a warrant if you like, but i think you had better not." "the man with the mustachios then withdrew." about the beard movement took hold of englishmen. the crimean war had much to do with it, as our soldiers were permitted to forego the use of the razor as the hair on the face protected them from the cold and attacks of neuralgia. about this period only one civilian of position in england had the hardihood to wear the moustache. he was mr george frederick muntz, a member of parliament for birmingham. he was a notable figure in the house of commons, and is described as manly in appearance, with a handsome face, a huge black beard, and moustache. he died th july, , and is regarded as the father of the modern moustache movement. another early moustache member was colonel sibthorp, the representative for lincoln, who bore mr muntz company for some time in the house of commons. daniel o'connell wrote a biting epigram on colonels sibthorp, percival, and verner, the first of whom was remarkable for his length of beard, whilst the others had none:-- three colonels, in three distant counties born, lincoln, armagh, and sligo did adorn. the first in matchless impudence surpass'd, the next in bigotry, in both the last, the force of nature could no further go, to beard the first she shaved the other two. it will be noticed that the foregoing is a parody on dryden's celebrated tribute to milton. [illustration: george frederick muntz, m.p.] the enlightened electors, however, did not take kindly to the bearded politician. it is related by dr hedderwick, the well-known glasgow journalist, that at the time the moustache movement was making slow progress, the candidate for linlithgowshire was an officer in the lancers, a man of ability, family, and fashion, who wore a heavily hirsute upper lip. he received an intimation from a leader of his party that his moustache might prejudice him in the eyes of a rural population. the candidate replied that he had already considered the point, but it was the rule in his regiment that it would be cowardly to succumb, and that he was "determined to face it out." we have it on good authority that a cabinet minister, about , caused a gentleman to be told that the beard and moustache did not look well on a man holding a civic position under the crown. this minister did not then imagine that shortly men with beards and moustaches would sit by his side as members of the cabinet. even a colonial governor about half a century ago was not supposed to wear a moustache. dr hedderwick, in his "backward glances" (edinburgh, ), tells us that on a certain sunday he was rambling with his friend, mr charles maclaren, the well-known editor of the _scotsman_, to loch long, when he saw some carriages conveying a number of ladies and gentlemen to church. "sitting obliquely on an irish jaunting-car," says the doctor, "was a portly personage with a dark heavy fringe on his upper lip, and otherwise distinguished appearance. i suggested that it might be sir henry pottinger, the celebrated diplomatist and colonial governor. we knew he had returned to england, and i had heard he was visiting in scotland on the banks of loch long. 'no, no,' said mr maclaren, 'it's quite impossible it can be he. a civilian of great intelligence and sense would never wear a moustache.'" we may gather from the foregoing the prejudice of the period against facial adornments. from about to some years afterwards we resided at the small town of alfreton, derbyshire, where, if by chance the boys saw a man with a moustache, with one accord they commenced calling after him, "jew, jew, jew," or "frenchy, frenchy, frenchy," and, if that did not make any impression, they commenced stoning the offender against the unwritten laws of the land. in later years our barber at wakefield was somewhat of a dandy, and would, perhaps, have preferred being called a tonsorial artist. he was the first to cultivate a moustache in that west riding town, and he told the writer with pride that in those distant days he was one of the sights of the place, but his vanity had many checks from the rough lads, and even men, of wakefield. before his death he saw many follow his lead. a teacher of music was the first to wear a moustache in nottingham. he attracted the attention of young and old, and was deemed a great curiosity. the younger generation made matters lively for the music master. speaking on this theme to an old nottinghamshire friend, with whom we often discuss olden days and ways, he stated to us how he won his wife because he had not a moustache. it appears another eligible young man was anxious to win the young lady, but his character was regarded as doubtful because he cultivated a moustache. after a short engagement our friend was married in the year . at this period the moustache movement was making slow progress in nottingham. mr w.p. frith, r.a., published in an amusing "autobiography," and devotes not the least attractive chapter of his work to "the bearded model." he relates how difficult it was to find a bearded model, and how at last he discovered one. he says that in crossing soho square one day his attention was drawn to a crowd of little boys, who seemed to be teasing an old man in the manner of the london street boy. "why don't you get your 'air cut?" said one. "yah! where's your bundle of old clothes? yer ain't got 'em in that 'ere basket, 'ave you?" said another, "let's 'ave a look. you're a jew, you know; now, ain't you?" and so on. all this, observes the artist, because the old man wore a long grey beard, then such a rarity. the young gentlemen had mistaken their man. he soundly punished two elder boys, and mr frith found he was not a jew. how he became a model does not come within the scope of our present studies. mr frith says that the head of a well-known firm of drapers in regent street refused to employ shopmen who wore moustaches, or men who parted their hair down the middle. in days before the moustache was popular, mr frith shows how even in art circles its adoption retarded progress. "i well remember," says mr frith, "a book illustrator named stuart, who, according to his own notion, ought to have been on the throne of england instead of drawing on insensible wood blocks. he could trace his descent from james i. he could sing jacobite songs, and very well, too, and he was certainly like charles i. there was not the least doubt about his pedigree in his own mind; and he was such a nuisance when once launched into the long list of royal blood, that we declared our unanimous conviction of the justice of his claims, and implored him to put them forward in the proper quarter, as we were powerless in the matter. the stuart beard, exactly like the vandyke portrait of charles, was the treasured ornament of our friend's face, and though he was assured that the publishers felt such doubt of his abilities, and such a conviction of his utterly unreliable character and general dishonesty in consequence of his beard--one man going so far as to tell him it cost him £ a year--he refused to remove it." mr frith says when the vandyke beard became white his poor friend would have died in extreme poverty had he not received well-deserved assistance from a fund established to meet cases like his. the directors and managers of banks made a stand against the moustache movement. it is asserted that the authorities of the bank of england issued an order "that the clerks were not to wear moustaches during business hours." it is not surprising to learn that the amusing order was soon cancelled. at the present time, at one of the great banks in the strand, the clerks have to be clean shaven. to illustrate the rigid manner of enforcing the order, mr frith quotes the case of an old servant of the bank, who was severely attacked by erysipelas in the face and head. even after convalescence the tenderness of the skin made shaving impossible, but the old clerk begged to be allowed to return to his desk. he was told by one of the principals, in a kind note in answer to his application, that the bank would endeavour to get on without him until his face was in a condition to bear the attention of his razor. in the earlier years of the moustache movement, clerks might be dismissed for not being clean shaven. contractors, as a rule, we should regard as being the least particular of any class of employers about the personal appearance of their servants. yet we have it on reliable authority that a trusted superintendent of one of the great contractors served the firm in russia, and there cultivated the beard and moustache. on his return to england he displayed no disposition to resume the use of the razor. the head contractor grew alarmed at the terrible example he was setting those engaged in the office, and insisted that the adornment should be cut off, which was done. the poor fellow caught cold, and in a few days died. [illustration: charles dickens, born , died .] an important firm of timber merchants in hull made it a condition that any clerks employed by them should be clean shaven. this rule was strictly enforced until the firm closed its career a few years ago. mr serjeant robinson, in his interesting and informing volume, "bench and bar reminiscences" (london, ), deals with the legal aspect of our theme. he says for many years anterior to scarcely a beard, and certainly not even a downy symptom of a moustache, was to be seen on the face of a practising barrister. towards the close of the first half of the nineteenth century a quiet, gentlemanly, well-informed barrister, named brierley, used to attend the central criminal court, wearing a long flowing beard and a thick moustache. these hirsute adornments gave offence to the leaders who regularly attended the sessions. no other exception could be taken to him. a meeting of the senior bar was held, and he was summoned to attend. he was called upon to defend his action. instead of denying the jurisdiction of the tribunal that was to judge him, he recognised the enormity of his crime, and excused himself on the ground of a serious affection of the throat, and stated that it was under urgent medical advice that he was induced to transgress the unwritten ordinances of the bar. despite the reasonableness of the plea, a small majority passed upon him a vote of censure for subjecting the bar to general ridicule by his extravagant physiognomy. "this was," says mr serjeant robinson, "the worst that could befall him, for of course he could not be prevented from coming within the sacred precincts of the court, nor from taking his seat at the bar table. the only means of carrying out the resolution was by sending him to coventry. but he did not give them the opportunity of executing it, for he seldom appeared afterwards. it is not known what became of this barrister after he had been driven from practising his profession in the courts." several old laws regulated wearing the beard in the bygone times. in the reign of queen elizabeth a decree went forth that no barrister should appear in court with a beard of more than a fortnight's growth. barristers with beards and moustaches are not much less common at the present time than those without them. this is no doubt the result of the martial order which passed over the country at the introduction of the volunteer movement. the moustache was regarded as indispensable to the military appearance of the citizen soldier. old illustrated books relating to the worthies of the church often contain portraits of divines with flowing beards and moustaches. in modern times the cultivation of these adornments of the face has given rise to not a little discussion in church circles. early in the newspapers criticised the charge of the bishop of rochester, which included a denunciation of the development of beards and moustaches among the clergymen of his diocese. the writing in the press for and against the facial adornment had little point, but it gave rise to more than one book dealing with the subject. an author issued "an apology for the beard; addressed to men in general, and to the clergy in particular" (london, ). the bible and other books are quoted against shaving. james ward, r.a., the celebrated animal painter, produced in book form a "defence of the beard." he dealt with his subject on scriptural grounds, and gave eighteen reasons why man was bound to grow a beard unless he was indifferent as to offending his creator and good taste. mr. ward asked, "what would a jupiter be without a beard? who would countenance the idea of a shaved christ?" the artist set an example to others by adopting the beard when it was not popular. on the title-page of another work was declared: "a breach of the sabbath, and a hindrance to the spread of the gospel." the writer designated himself "theologos." if his views were carried out, it would lead to the practice which prevailed among the essenes, who never did on the sabbath anything that was customary for them to do on other days. the high church clergymen use the razor, and as a rule the moustache is discarded. for some time not a few of the clergy in the lower ranks joined the moustache movement, but it was not until that a bishop was included. the late bishop ryle, of liverpool, was the first to give up in modern times the use of the razor. quite a sensation was caused towards the close of when it became known that the archbishop of york did not approve of the moustache among his clergy. in several quarters the barber was visited, and the cherished moustache and beard swept away, it is said, to please the head of the church in the northern province. not so with a moustached candidate for orders from hull. he had been spending two or three days at bishopthorpe before ordination, but gentle hints failed to induce him to make a clean shave. as a final effort the chaplain of the archbishop asked him if he thought it was not time he cut off his moustache. he replied that he did not think of doing so, and asked why he should. "well," said the chaplain, "you see the saints in the stained glass windows have not any moustaches." "that may be so," said the candidate, "but as i am not intended to be a saint and stuck in a window, i mean my moustache to remain." speaking at a reunion of the leeds clergy school held on june th, , dr eden, the bishop of wakefield, said he recently noticed a paragraph in the newspapers which said that the bishop of wakefield had given it out that he was very much against the clergy wearing moustaches. "after a little while this legend increased in definiteness, and the next paragraph i saw was that the bishop of wakefield had 'commanded' the curates of his diocese to shave clean. a little while after that i took up a london paper, and i saw it stated: 'the bishop of wakefield has joined the anti-moustache brigade, and we believe he has the sympathy of his royal highness the prince of wales.' i waited a little longer, for i felt sure something more would come, and then i took up another paper and found that an exceedingly respected prebendary of st paul's in london had been uttering remarks, either in public or to the reporters--i don't know which--in which he held up the bishop of wakefield as being one of those foolish people who had largely exceeded their episcopal powers. i was given a very round lecture upon the contrast of my conduct with that of my predecessor, who would never have thought of issuing such a foolish order to the curates to shave their moustaches. the curates were recommended to do nothing of the kind, but a fear was expressed that a large number of them would probably comply with the demand. still that was not quite the end of the legend; i had of course a great deal of private correspondence arising out of this newspaper paragraph, but only the other day i heard--i have not seen it--that a cartoon has appeared in a london paper in which the bishop of wakefield is represented with a drawn razor in his hand in full cry after a wakefield curate with a moustache. that is a very good example of finding the truth about yourselves in the newspapers, for i have the most astounding fact of all to tell you, and that is that i have never said a single word about moustaches from first to last. i knew you would forgive me making this little personal reference because it is not personal to myself and to many of those in this tent." a former bishop of wakefield, dr walsham how, related a good story. "the vicar of an east london parish," said the bishop, "was one of the first london clergymen to grow his beard. the then bishop of london wished to stop the practice, and, as he was going to confirm in that church, sent his chaplain to the vicar to ask him to shave it off, saying he should otherwise select another church for the confirmation. the vicar replied that he was quite willing to take his candidates to another church, and would give out next sunday the reason for the change. of course the bishop retracted." we are told in the "life of r.w. dale" (london, ) that this famous birmingham preacher, about , was clean shaven, but with "long black hair that hung over his cheeks and ears like a mane." in a year or two it was cut short. he then let his beard grow, and, after some hesitation, his moustache. many of the older people, we are told, were scandalised, but remained silent; some wrote to the newspapers in protest. the moustache was declared to invest ministers "with an air of levity and worldliness." a letter of approval purported to come from the shade of a wesleyan minister, the rev. h.d. lowe, who, in , had his beard cut off by order of the wesleyan conference. it ran as follows:-- "reverend and bearded sir,--it rejoiced my shade to see you not only addressing methodists, but sitting among many of the identical men who required that cruel sacrifice of me, and that unrebuked when you even spoke of dreaming of belonging to the 'legal hundred,' bearded though you are." professor hodgson used to tell a good story of a shaky village knight of the razor who gashed the minister's cheek. "john, john!" cried the reverend sufferer, "it's a dreadful thing that drink!" "'deed it is, sir," mildly assented john, "it makes the skin unco tender." the electors of hull, who returned to parliament sir henry vane the younger, andrew marvell, the patriot, and in later times, william wilberforce, the emancipator of the slave, have never, as might be readily believed, been backward in adopting reasonable measures of reform. on december st, , at the hull watch sub-committee, it was moved by mr moss, seconded by mr clarke, and carried unanimously: "that it be a recommendation to the watch committee to permit the police to wear a beard and moustache if they think fit." a week later, namely, on december th, at the watch committee, it was moved by mr mayfield, and seconded by mr fountain: "that a resolution of the sub-committee of december st, granting permission to police to wear the beard and moustache, if they think fit, be confirmed by this committee." it was pointed out by one of the members of the council, who was advocating the passing of the resolution, that it would give a "fierce appearance to the police." in course of time the leading gentlemen of the land adopted the moustache, and those in the lower walks of life were not slow to follow their example, the result being that it is worn now by all sorts and conditions of men. the moustache figures in recent wills. in , one made by henry budd came into force, and declared as follows against the wearing of moustaches by his sons in the following terms: "in case my son edward shall wear moustaches, the devise herein before contained in favour of him, his appointees, heirs, and assigns of my said estate, called pepper park, shall be void; and i devise the same estate to my son william, his appointees, heirs, and assigns. and in case my said son william shall wear moustaches, then the devise hereinbefore contained in favour of him, his appointees, heirs, and assigns of my said estate, called twickenham park, shall be void; and i devise the said estate to my said son edward, his appointees, heirs, and assigns." mr fleming, an upholsterer, of pimlico, by his will, proved in , left £ each to the men in his employ who did not wear moustaches, and to those who persisted in wearing them, £ only. in the daily newspapers of july th, , it was stated: "french motor-car owners having shown a disposition to make their chauffeurs shave, the latter combined in defence of their moustaches, which they declare to be a sanitary protection." index absalom, , age of wigs, - agrarian law repealed, albemarle, earl of, ---- duchess of, alexander iii., pope, forbids clergy to act as surgeons, alfreton, anne, queen, assyrian sculptures, "_antiquarian repertory_," quoted, "_athenian oracle_," quoted, aubrey, quoted, , bag-wig, bakewell, derbyshire, epitaph from, ballad of the beard, - banks, mrs g. linnæus, quoted, banks and the moustache, bar and the moustache, barber-surgeon, antiquity of, barber's pole, - barber's shop, - barbers and surgeons, laws relating to their work, ---- separate, barbers' company, first master of the, barnard castle, barristers without wigs, bathurst, lord, cuts off his pig-tail, bayeux tapestry, beard protection against neuralgia, beardie scott, beardless britons, bible, quoted, bleeding at northallerton, blomfield, bishop, boxing the beard, brand's "popular antiquities," _british apollo_, quoted, britons, brontë, rev. p., story about, , bygone beards, - campaign wig, canterbury, sheriff of, cavaliers, chair, barber's, charles i., , , ---- ii., charlotte, queen, chaucer, quoted, chester barber-surgeons, church denounces wigs, ---- denounces moustache, churchyards, barbers shave in, , clergy caring for men's bodies and souls, cloth of gold, cockburn, judge, combing the wig, congreve, "_comenii orbis pictus_," quoted, comenius, bishop, contractors and the moustache, cox, rev. dr j.c., quoted, crimean war, crop clubs, curing a joking duke, cyprus customs, dale, r.w., defence of the beard, delmahoy's wig, demanding the beard, desecrating the sabbath by shaving, , disuse of hair powder, doran, dr, quoted, drapers refuse to employ men with moustaches, drury lane, five women barbers of, dryden, quoted, duke and barber's boy, dyeing the beard, earliest mention of the beard, early gild in london, eastern potentate, eden, dr, and the moustache, egyptian wigs, eldon, lord, elizabeth, queen, , epigram on three colonels, epitaphs on barber-surgeons, fairholt, f.w., false hair worn by women, farquhar, female follies, fined for wearing beards, , first illustrated school book, forfeits, - fox, c.j., france, wig mania in, free advice to a young clergyman, frith, w.p., "autobiography" quoted, from barber to surgeon, - frost fair, gallants, gathering of, galley-pot, garrick, gauls, gay, j., quoted, , , _gentleman's magazine_, quoted, george iii. and wig-makers, ---- sets his subjects a good example, ---- iv. and dr randolph, gold-dust used as hair-powder, grain, high price of, great seal, guitar, hannibal, hastings, battle of, hawkesbury, lord, and new bread, hawkins, sir j., quoted, heart-breakers, hedderwick, dr, quoted, henry vi., henry viii., hentzner, quoted, high church clergymen, hodgson, professor, holbein's picture, holme, r., quoted, house of peers, how, dr walsham, hull baker fined, ---- candidate for holy orders and his moustache, ---- policemen and the moustache, ---- timber merchant and the moustache, "impartial monitor," quoted, incorporation of barbers, irish shaving statute, jewish custom, jews used hair-powder, johnson, dr, johnstone, rev. e., desecrating the sabbath by shaving, julius ii., juvenile wigs, kauffmann, a., kenealy, dr, kenrick, dr, king's barber, knox, john, , last barber-surgeon in london, laud, archbishop, "letters from the dead to the living," lichfield, lincoln's inn and the beard, london women barbers, lord's day observance, - louis xiv., louth, lowe, rev. h.d., "loyal litany," quoted, lyttelton, lord, macedonian soldiers, maclaren, c., editor of the _scotsman_, magistrate and the moustache, malcolm, quoted, manner of using hair powder, , mansfield, lord, marie antoinette, marston, quoted, mary queen of scots, massinger, quoted, medical men and wigs, ministers shaving on sunday, , missal, mock doctor, more, rev. j., ---- sir thomas, moustache and the motor-car, ---- movement, - muffs, muntz, g.f., music, barber's, , newcastle-on-tyne, barber-surgeons of, _notes and queries_, quoted, , nottingham, story of moustache and marriage, objectionable mode of advertising blood-letting, o'connell, d., one pig-tail only returned to the reformed parliament, paris, massacre of, pepys, quoted, , percival, col., periwig with tail, peter the great, phlebotomy, - pig-tail, pitt, plucking the beard, , poetical signs, , politics and the moustache, pontefract, powdering the hair, - pulling the nose, puritans, "quip for an upstart courtier," "rambler," quoted, ramillies, battle of, ---- wig, reading regulations, red rag, reform bill, repton, j.a., retailer of scandal, reynolds, sir joshua, robinson, serjeant, quoted, rogers, dr c., quoted, romans and hair-powder, russian laws, - ryle, bishop, sandy-coloured hair, saxons and hair-powder, sayings, old, - saywell, rev. j.l., quoted, scarborough, woman barber at, scott, sir walter, quoted, sealing custom, shakespeare, quoted, , shaving heads, sheppard, mr, m.p., shirley, quoted, short-bob, sibthorp, col., speaker's wig, starching the beard, stealing wigs, - stephen, king, stow, quoted, stratford-on-avon, street frays, strickland, agnes, quoted, stripes on barber's pole, colour of, strutt, quoted, stuart, artist, story of, stubbes, stupid barbers unknown, sumner, archbishop, sunday shaving, - surgeons' incorporation bill, swift, quoted, - , taxing hair-powder, , , ---- the beard, , - taylor the water poet, , tewkesbury abbey, epitaph from, "thirsk forfeits," thurlow, lord, tichborne trial, tiles, fine of, tillotson, dr, timbs, john, quoted, _times_, quoted, , , token, beard, tours, edict of, tragic story, verner, col., vizetelly, quoted, wakefield, first man to wear a moustache at, walpole, horace, quoted, ---- sir robert, ward, james, quoted, wesleyans and the beard, _whitehall evening post_, quoted, wig-makers' riot, , williams, noted barber, wills and the moustache, with and without wigs, "wits' recreations," quoted, women barbers, - working hours, long, workshop and sunday shaving, yarmouth, curious bill at, york, archbishop of, ---- gild of barber-surgeons, "yorkshire, ballads and songs of," quoted, , [illustration: hallowe'en festivities. _from an old english print_] the book of hallowe'en by ruth edna kelley, a. m. _lynn public library_ _illustrated_ boston lothrop, lee & shepard co. * * * * * published, august, copyright, , by lothrop, lee & shepard co. _all rights reserved_ the book of hallowe'en norwood press berwick & smith co. norwood, mass. u. s. a. * * * * * _to my mother and the memory of my father who inspired and encouraged me in the writing of this book_ * * * * * preface this book is intended to give the reader an account of the origin and history of hallowe'en, how it absorbed some customs belonging to other days in the year,--such as may day, midsummer, and christmas. the context is illustrated by selections from ancient and modern poetry and prose, related to hallowe'en ideas. those who wish suggestions for readings, recitations, plays, and parties, will find the lists in the appendix useful, in addition to the books on entertainments and games to be found in any public library. special acknowledgment is made to messrs. e. p. dutton & company for permission to use the poem entitled "hallowe'en" from "the spires of oxford and other poems," by w. m. letts; to messrs. longmans, green & company for the poem "pomona," by william morris; and to the editors of _the independent_ for the use of five poems. ruth edna kelley. lynn, _ _. contents chap. page i. sun-worship. the sources of hallowe'en ii. the celts: their religion and festivals iii. samhain iv. pomona v. the coming of christianity. all saints'. all souls' vi. origin and character of hallowe'en omens vii. hallowe'en beliefs and customs in ireland viii. hallowe'en beliefs and customs in scotland and the hebrides ix. hallowe'en beliefs and customs in england and man x. hallowe'en beliefs and customs in wales xi. hallowe'en beliefs and customs in brittany and france xii. the teutonic religion. witches xiii. walpurgis night xiv. more hallowtide beliefs and customs xv. hallowe'en in america "four poems" magazine references to hallowe'en entertainments supplementary list of readings, recitations, and plays index to quotations index illustrations hallowe'en festivities _frontispiece_ facing page in hallowe'en time the witch of the walnut-tree the witches' dance (_valpurgisnacht_) fortune-telling hallowe'en tables, i hallowe'en tables, ii no hallowe'en without a jack-o'-lantern the book of hallowe'en chapter i sun-worship. the sources of hallowe'en if we could ask one of the old-world pagans whom he revered as his greatest gods, he would be sure to name among them the sun-god; calling him apollo if he were a greek; if an egyptian, horus or osiris; if of norway, sol; if of peru, bochica. as the sun is the center of the physical universe, so all primitive peoples made it the hub about which their religion revolved, nearly always believing it a living person to whom they could say prayers and offer sacrifices, who directed their lives and destinies, and could even snatch men from earthly existence to dwell for a time with him, as it draws the water from lakes and seas. in believing this they followed an instinct of all early peoples, a desire to make persons of the great powers of nature, such as the world of growing things, mountains and water, the sun, moon, and stars; and a wish for these gods they had made to take an interest in and be part of their daily life. the next step was making stories about them to account for what was seen; so arose myths and legends. the sun has always marked out work-time and rest, divided the year into winter idleness, seed-time, growth, and harvest; it has always been responsible for all the beauty and goodness of the earth; it is itself splendid to look upon. it goes away and stays longer and longer, leaving the land in cold and gloom; it returns bringing the long fair days and resurrection of spring. a japanese legend tells how the hidden sun was lured out by an image made of a copper plate with saplings radiating from it like sunbeams, and a fire kindled, dancing, and prayers; and round the earth in north america the cherokees believed they brought the sun back upon its northward path by the same means of rousing its curiosity, so that it would come out to see its counterpart and find out what was going on. all the more important church festivals are survivals of old rites to the sun. "how many times the church has decanted the new wine of christianity into the old bottles of heathendom." yule-tide, the pagan christmas, celebrated the sun's turning north, and the old midsummer holiday is still kept in ireland and on the continent as st. john's day by the lighting of bonfires and a dance about them from east to west as the sun appears to move. the pagan hallowe'en at the end of summer was a time of grief for the decline of the sun's glory, as well as a harvest festival of thanksgiving to him for having ripened the grain and fruit, as we formerly had husking-bees when the ears had been garnered, and now keep our own thanksgiving by eating of our winter store in praise of god who gives us our increase. pomona, the roman goddess of fruit, lends us the harvest element of hallowe'en; the celtic day of "summer's end" was a time when spirits, mostly evil, were abroad; the gods whom christ dethroned joined the ill-omened throng; the church festivals of all saints' and all souls' coming at the same time of year--the first of november--contributed the idea of the return of the dead; and the teutonic may eve assemblage of witches brought its hags and their attendant beasts to help celebrate the night of october st. chapter ii the celts: their religion and festivals the first reference to great britain in european annals of which we know was the statement in the fifth century b. c. of the greek historian herodotus, that ph[oe]nician sailors went to the british isles for tin. he called them the "tin islands." the people with whom these sailors traded must have been celts, for they were the first inhabitants of britain who worked in metal instead of stone. the druids were priests of the celts centuries before christ came. there is a tradition in ireland that they first arrived there in b. c., seven hundred years before st. patrick. the account of them written by julius cæsar half a century before christ speaks mainly of the celts of gaul, dividing them into two ruling classes who kept the people almost in a state of slavery; the knights, who waged war, and the druids who had charge of worship and sacrifices, and were in addition physicians, historians, teachers, scientists, and judges. cæsar says that this cult originated in britain, and was transferred to gaul. gaul and britain had one religion and one language, and might even have one king, so that what cæsar wrote of gallic druids must have been true of british. the celts worshipped spirits of forest and stream, and feared the powers of evil, as did the greeks and all other early races. very much of their primitive belief has been kept, so that to scotch, irish, and welsh peasantry brooks, hills, dales, and rocks abound in tiny supernatural beings, who may work them good or evil, lead them astray by flickering lights, or charm them into seven years' servitude unless they are bribed to show favor. the name "druid" is derived from the celtic word "druidh," meaning "sage," connected with the greek word for oak, "drus," "the rapid oak-tree-- before him heaven and earth quake: stout door-keeper against the foe. in every land his name is mine." taliesin: _battle of the trees._ for the oak was held sacred by them as a symbol of the omnipotent god, upon whom they depended for life like the mistletoe growing upon it. their ceremonies were held in oak-groves. later from their name a word meaning "magician" was formed, showing that these priests had gained the reputation of being dealers in magic. "the druid followed him and suddenly, as we are told, struck him with a druidic wand, or according to one version, flung at him a tuft of grass over which he had pronounced a druidical incantation." o'curry: _ancient irish._ they dealt in symbols, common objects to which was given by the interposition of spirits, meaning to signify certain facts, and power to produce certain effects. since they were tree-worshippers, trees and plants were thought to have peculiar powers. cæsar provides them with a galaxy of roman divinities, mercury, mars, jupiter, and minerva, who of course were worshipped under their native names. their chief god was baal, of whom they believed the sun the visible emblem. they represented him by lowlier tokens, such as circles and wheels. the trefoil, changed into a figure composed of three winged feet radiating from a center, represented the swiftness of the sun's journey. the cross too was a symbol of the sun, being the appearance of its light shining upon dew or stream, making to the half-closed eye little bright crosses. one form of the cross was the swastika. to baal they made sacrifices of criminals or prisoners of war, often burning them alive in wicker images. these bonfires lighted on the hills were meant to urge the god to protect and bless the crops and herds. from the appearance of the victims sacrificed in them, omens were taken that foretold the future. the gods and other supernatural powers in answer to prayer were thought to signify their will by omens, and also by the following methods: the ordeal, in which the innocence or guilt of a person was shown by the way the god permitted him to endure fire or other torture; exorcism, the driving out of demons by saying mysterious words or names over them. becoming skilled in interpreting the will of the gods, the druids came to be known as prophets. "o deirdré, terrible child, for thee, red star of our ruin, great weeping shall be in eri-- woe, woe, and a breach in ulla. * * * * * "thy feet shall trample the mighty yet stumble on heads thou lovest." todhunter: _druid song of cathvah._ they kept their lore for the most part a secret, forbidding it to be written, passing it down by word of mouth. they taught the immortality of the soul, that it passed from one body to another at death. "if, as those druids taught, which kept the british rites, and dwelt in darksome groves, there counselling with sprites, when these our souls by death our bodies do forsake they instantly again do other bodies take----" drayton: _polyolbion._ they believed that on the last night of the old year (october st) the lord of death gathered together the souls of all those who had died in the passing year and had been condemned to live in the bodies of animals, to decree what forms they should inhabit for the next twelve months. he could be coaxed to give lighter sentences by gifts and prayers. the badge of the initiated druid was a glass ball reported to be made in summer of the spittle of snakes, and caught by the priests as the snakes tossed it into the air. "and the potent adder-stone gender'd 'fore the autumnal moon when in undulating twine the foaming snakes prolific join." mason: _caractacus._ it was real glass, blown by the druids themselves. it was supposed to aid the wearer in winning lawsuits and securing the favor of kings. an animal sacred to the druids was the cat. "a slender black cat reclining on a chain of old silver" guarded treasure in the old days. for a long time cats were dreaded by the people because they thought human beings had been changed to that form by evil means. the chief festivals of the druids fell on four days, celebrating phases of the sun's career. fires of sacrifice were lighted especially at spring and midsummer holidays, by exception on november st. may day and november day were the more important, the beginning and end of summer, yet neither equinoxes nor solstices. the time was divided then not according to sowing and reaping, but by the older method of reckoning from when the herds were turned out to pasture in the spring and brought into the fold again at the approach of winter--by a pastoral rather than an agricultural people. on the night before beltaine ("baal-fire"), the first of may, fires were burned to baal to celebrate the return of the sun bringing summer. before sunrise the houses were decked with garlands to gladden the sun when he appeared; a rite which has survived in "going maying." the may-day fires were used for purification. cattle were singed by being led near the flames, and sometimes bled that their blood might be offered as a sacrifice for a prosperous season. "when lo! a flame, a wavy flame of ruddy light leaped up, the farmyard fence above. and while his children's shout rang high, his cows the farmer slowly drove across the blaze,--he knew not why." kickham: _st. john's eve._ a cake was baked in the fire with one piece blacked with charcoal. whoever got the black piece was thereby marked for sacrifice to baal, so that, as the ship proceeded in safety after jonah was cast overboard, the affairs of the group about the may-eve fire might prosper when it was purged of the one whom baal designated by lot. later only the symbol of offering was used, the victim being forced to leap thrice over the flames. in history it was the day of the coming of good. partholon, the discoverer and promoter of ireland, came thither from the other world to stay three hundred years. the gods themselves, the deliverers of ireland, first arrived there "through the air" on may day. june st, the day of the summer solstice, the height of the sun's power, was marked by midnight fires of joy and by dances. these were believed to strengthen the sun's heat. a blazing wheel to represent the sun was rolled down hill. "a happy thought. give me this cart-wheel. i'll have it tied with ropes and smeared with pitch, and when it's lighted, i will roll it down the steepest hillside." hauptmann: _sunken bell._ (lewisohn _trans._) spirits were believed to be abroad, and torches were carried about the fields to protect them from invasion. charms were tried on that night with seeds of fern and hemp, and dreams were believed to be prophetic. lugh, in old highland speech "the summer sun" "the hour may hither drift when at the last, amid the o'erwearied shee-- weary of long delight and deathless joys-- one you shall love may fade before your eyes, before your eyes may fade, and be as mist caught in the sunny hollow of lu's hand, lord of the day." sharp: _immortal hour._ had for father one of the gods and for mother the daughter of a chief of the enemy. hence he possessed some good and some evil tendencies. he may be the celtic mercury, for they were alike skilled in magic and alchemy, in deception, successful in combats with demons, the bringers of new strength and cleansing to the nation. he said farewell to power on the first of august, and his foster-mother had died on that day, so then it was he set his feast-day. the occasion was called "lugnasad," "the bridal of lugh" and the earth, whence the harvest should spring. it was celebrated by the offering of the first fruits of harvest, and by races and athletic sports. in meath, ireland, this continued down into the nineteenth century, with dancing and horse-racing the first week of august. chapter iii samhain on november first was samhain ("summer's end"). "take my tidings: stags contend; snows descend-- summer's end! "a chill wind raging, the sun low keeping, swift to set o'er seas high sweeping. "dull red the fern; shapes are shadows; wild geese mourn o'er misty meadows. "keen cold limes each weaker wing, icy times-- such i sing! take my tidings." graves: _first winter song._ then the flocks were driven in, and men first had leisure after harvest toil. fires were built as a thanksgiving to baal for harvest. the old fire on the altar was quenched before the night of october st, and the new one made, as were all sacred fires, by friction. it was called "forced-fire." a wheel and a spindle were used: the wheel, the sun symbol, was turned from east to west, sunwise. the sparks were caught in tow, blazed upon the altar, and were passed on to light the hilltop fires. the new fire was given next morning, new year's day, by the priests to the people to light their hearths, where all fires had been extinguished. the blessed fire was thought to protect the year through the home it warmed. in ireland the altar was tlactga, on the hill of ward in meath, where sacrifices, especially black sheep, were burnt in the new fire. from the death struggles and look of the creatures omens for the future year were taken. the year was over, and the sun's life of a year was done. the celts thought that at this time the sun fell a victim for six months to the powers of winter darkness. in egyptian mythology one of the sun-gods, osiris, was slain at a banquet by his brother sîtou, the god of darkness. on the anniversary of the murder, the first day of winter, no egyptian would begin any new business for fear of bad luck, since the spirit of evil was then in power. from the idea that the sun suffered from his enemies on this day grew the association of samhain with death. "the melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere. heaped in the hollows of the grove, the wither'd leaves lie dead; they rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread. the robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrub the jay and from the wood-top calls the crow, through all the gloomy day. "the wind-flower and the violet, they perished long ago, and the wild rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow: but on the hill the golden-rod, and the aster in the wood, and the yellow sun-flower by the brook in autumn beauty stood, till fell the frost from the cold clear heaven, as falls the plague on men, and the brightness of their smile was gone from upland, glade, and glen." bryant: _death of the flowers._ in the same state as those who are dead, are those who have never lived, dwelling right in the world, but invisible to most mortals at most times. seers could see them at any time, and if very many were abroad at once others might get a chance to watch them too. "there is a world in which we dwell, and yet a world invisible. and do not think that naught can be save only what with eyes ye see: i tell ye that, this very hour, had but your sight a spirit's power, ye would be looking, eye to eye, at a terrific company." coxe: _hallowe'en._ these supernatural spirits ruled the dead. there were two classes: the tuatha de danann, "the people of the goddess danu," gods of light and life; and spirits of darkness and evil. the tuatha had their chief seat on the isle of man, in the middle of the irish sea, and brought under their power the islands about them. on a midsummer day they vanquished the fir bolgs and gained most of ireland, by the battle of moytura. a long time afterwards--perhaps b. c.--the fomor, sea-demons, after destroying nearly all their enemies by plagues, exacted from those remaining, as tribute, "a third part of their corn, a third part of their milk, and a third part of their children." this tax was paid on samhain. it was on the week before samhain that the fomor landed upon ireland. on the eve of samhain the gods met them in the second battle of moytura, and they were driven back into the ocean. as tigernmas, a mythical king of ireland, was sacrificing "the firstlings of every issue, and the scions of every clan" to crom croich, the king idol, and lay prostrate before the image, he and three-fourths of his men mysteriously disappeared. "then came tigernmas, the prince of tara yonder on hallowe'en with many hosts. a cause of grief to them was the deed. dead were the men of bamba's host, without happy strength around tigernmas, the destructive man of the north, from the worship of crom cruaich. 't was no luck for them. for i have learnt, except one-fourth of the keen gaels, not a man alive--lasting the snare! escaped without death in his mouth." _dinnsenchus of mag slecht_ (meyer _trans._). this was direct invocation, but the fire rites which were continued so long afterwards were really only worshipping the sun by proxy, in his nearest likeness, fire. samhain was then a day sacred to the death of the sun, on which had been paid a sacrifice of death to evil powers. though overcome at moytura evil was ascendant at samhain. methods of finding out the will of spirits and the future naturally worked better then, charms and invocations had more power, for the spirits were near to help, if care was taken not to anger them, and due honors paid. chapter iv pomona ops was the latin goddess of plenty. single parts of her province were taken over by various other divinities, among whom was pomona (_pomorum patrona_, "she who cares for fruits"). she is represented as a maiden with fruit in her arms and a pruning-knife in her hand. "i am the ancient apple-queen. as once i was so am i now-- for evermore a hope unseen betwixt the blossom and the bough. "ah, where's the river's hidden gold! and where's the windy grave of troy? yet come i as i came of old, from out the heart of summer's joy." morris: _pomona._ many roman poets told stories about her, the best known being by ovid, who says that she was wooed by many orchard-gods, but preferred to remain unmarried. among her suitors was vertumnus ("the changer"), the god of the turning year, who had charge of the exchange of trade, the turning of river channels, and chiefly of the change in nature from flower to ripe fruit. true to his character he took many forms to gain pomona's love. now he was a ploughman (spring), now a fisherman (summer), now a reaper (autumn). at last he took the likeness of an old woman (winter), and went to gossip with pomona. after sounding her mind and finding her averse to marriage, the woman pleaded for vertumnus's success. "is not he the first to have the fruits which are thy delight? and does he not hold thy gifts in his joyous right hand?" ovid: _vertumnus and pomona._ then the crone told her the story of anaxarete who was so cold to her lover iphis that he hanged himself, and she at the window watching his funeral train pass by was changed to a marble statue. advising pomona to avoid such a fate, vertumnus donned his proper form, that of a handsome young man, and pomona, moved by the story and his beauty, yielded and became his wife. vertumnus had a statue in the tuscan way in rome, and a temple. his festival, the vortumnalia, was held on the d of august, when the summer began to wane. garlands and garden produce were offered to him. pomona had been assigned one of the fifteen _flamina_, priests whose duty it was to kindle the fire for special sacrifices. she had a grove near ostia where a harvest festival was held about november first. not much is known of the ceremonies, but from the similar august holiday much may be deduced. then the deities of fire and water were propitiated that their disfavor might not ruin the crops. on pomona's day doubtless thanks was rendered them for their aid to the harvest. an offering of first-fruits was made in august; in november the winter store of nuts and apples was opened. the horses released from toil contended in races. from pomona's festival nuts and apples, from the druidic samhain the supernatural element, combined to give later generations the charms and omens from nuts and apples which are made trial of at hallowe'en. chapter v the coming of christianity. all saints'. all souls' the great power which the druids exercised over their people interfered with the roman rule of britain. converts were being made at rome. augustus forbade romans to became initiated, tiberius banished the priestly clan and their adherents from gaul, and claudius utterly stamped out the belief there, and put to death a roman knight for wearing the serpent's-egg badge to win a lawsuit. forbidden to practise their rites in britain, the druids fled to the isle of mona, near the coast of wales. the romans pursued them, and in a. d. they were slaughtered and their oak groves cut down. during the next three centuries the cult was stifled to death, and the christian religion substituted. it was believed that at christ's advent the pagan gods either died or were banished. "the lonely mountains o'er and the resounding shore a voice of weeping heard, and loud lament. from haunted spring and dale, edged with poplar pale, the parting genius is with sighing sent. with flower-inwoven tresses torn the nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn." milton: _on the morning of christ's nativity._ the christian fathers explained all oracles and omens by saying that there was something in them, but that they were the work of the evil one. the miraculous power they seemed to possess worked "black magic." it was a long, hard effort to make men see that their gods had all the time been wrong, and harder still to root out the age-long growth of rite and symbol. but on the old religion might be grafted new names; midsummer was dedicated to the birth of saint john; lugnasad became lammas. the fires belonging to these times of year were retained, their old significance forgotten or reconsecrated. the rowan, or mountain ash, whose berries had been the food of the tuatha, now exorcised those very beings. the trefoil signified the trinity, and the cross no longer the rays of the sun on water, but the cross of calvary. the fires which had been built to propitiate the god and consume his sacrifices to induce him to protect them were now lighted to protect the people from the same god, declared to be an evil mischief-maker. in time the autumn festival of the druids became the vigil of all hallows or all saints' day. all saints' was first suggested in the fourth century, when the christians were no longer persecuted, in memory of all the saints, since there were too many for each to have a special day on the church calendar. a day in may was chosen by pope boniface iv in for consecrating the pantheon, the old roman temple of all the gods, to the virgin and all the saints and martyrs. pope gregory iii dedicated a chapel in st. peter's to the same, and that day was made compulsory in by pope gregory iv, as all saints'. the day was changed from may to november so that the crowds that thronged to rome for the services might be fed from the harvest bounty. it is celebrated with a special service in the greek and roman churches and by episcopalians. in the tenth century st. odilo, bishop of cluny, instituted a day of prayer and special masses for the souls of the dead. he had been told that a hermit dwelling near a cave "heard the voices and howlings of devils, which complained strongly because that the souls of them that were dead were taken away from their hands by alms and by prayers." de voragine: _golden legend._ this day became all souls', and was set for november d. it is very appropriate that the celtic festival when the spirits of the dead and the supernatural powers held a carnival of triumph over the god of light, should be followed by all saints' and all souls'. the church holy-days were celebrated by bonfires to light souls through purgatory to paradise, as they had lighted the sun to his death on samhain. on both occasions there were prayers: the pagan petitions to the lord of death for a pleasant dwelling-place for the souls of departed friends; and the christian for their speedy deliverance from torture. they have in common the celebrating of death: the one, of the sun; the other, of mortals: of harvest: the one, of crops; the other, of sacred memories. they are kept by revelry and joy: first, to cheer men and make them forget the malign influences abroad; second, because as the saints in heaven rejoice over one repentant sinner, we should rejoice over those who, after struggles and sufferings past, have entered into everlasting glory. "mother, my mother, mother-country, yet were the fields in bud. and the harvest,--when shall it rise again up through the fire and flood? * * * * * "mother, my mother, mother-country, was it not all to save harvest of bread?--harvest of men? and the bright years, wave on wave? _"search not, search not, my way-worn; search neither weald nor wave. one is their heavy reaping-time to the earth, that is one wide grave."_ marks: _all souls' eve._ chapter vi origin and character of hallowe'en omens the custom of making tests to learn the future comes from the old system of augury from sacrifice. who sees in the nuts thrown into the fire, turning in the heat, blazing and growing black, the writhing victim of an old-time sacrifice to an idol? many superstitions and charms were believed to be active at any time, but all those and numerous special ones worked best on november eve. all the tests of all the celtic festivals have been allotted to hallowe'en. cakes from the may eve fire, hemp-seed and prophetic dreams from midsummer, games and sports from lugnasad have survived in varied forms. tests are very often tried blindfold, so that the seeker may be guided by fate. many are mystic--to evoke apparitions from the past or future. others are tried with harvest grains and fruits. because skill and undivided attention is needed to carry them through successfully, many have degenerated into mere contests of skill, have lost their meaning, and become rough games. answers are sought to questions about one's future career; chiefly to: when and whom shall i marry? what will be my profession and degree of wealth, and when shall i die? [illustration: in hallowe'en time.] chapter vii hallowe'en beliefs and customs in ireland ireland has a literature of hallowe'en, or "samhain," as it used to be called. most of it was written between the seventh and the twelfth centuries, but the events were thought to have happened while paganism still ruled in ireland. the evil powers that came out at samhain lived the rest of the time in the cave of cruachan in connaught, the province which was given to the wicked fomor after the battle of moytura. this cave was called the "hell-gate of ireland," and was unlocked on november eve to let out spirits and copper-colored birds which killed the farm animals. they also stole babies, leaving in their place changelings, goblins who were old in wickedness while still in the cradle, possessing superhuman cunning and skill in music. one way of getting rid of these demon children was to ill-treat them so that their people would come for them, bringing the right ones back; or one might boil egg-shells in the sight of the changeling, who would declare his demon nature by saying that in his centuries of life he had never seen such a thing before. brides too were stolen. "you shall go with me, newly married bride, and gaze upon a merrier multitude; white-armed nuala and Ængus of the birds, and feacra of the hurtling foam, and him who is the ruler of the western host, finvarra, and the land of heart's desire, where beauty has no ebb, decay no flood, but joy is wisdom, time an endless song." yeats: _land of heart's desire._ in the first century b. c. lived ailill and his queen medb. as they were celebrating their samhain feast in the palace, "three days before samhain at all times, and three days after, by ancient custom did the hosts of high aspiration continue to feast for the whole week." o'ciarain: _loch garman._ they offered a reward to the man who should tie a bundle of twigs about the feet of a criminal who had been hanged by the gate. it was dangerous to go near dead bodies on november eve, but a bold young man named nera dared it, and tied the twigs successfully. as he turned to go he saw "the whole of the palace as if on fire before him, and the heads of the people of it lying on the ground, and then he thought he saw an army going into the hill of cruachan, and he followed after the army." gregory: _cuchulain of muirthemne._ the door was shut. nera was married to a fairy woman, who betrayed her kindred by sending nera to warn king ailill of the intended attack upon his palace the next november eve. nera bore summer fruits with him to prove that he had been in the fairy _sid_. the next november eve, when the doors were opened ailill entered and discovered the crown, emblem of power, took it away, and plundered the treasury. nera never returned again to the homes of men. another story of about the same time was that of angus, the son of a tuatha god, to whom in a dream a beautiful maiden appeared. he wasted away with love for her, and searched the country for a girl who should look like her. at last he saw in a meadow among a hundred and fifty maidens, each with a chain of silver about her neck, one who was like the beauty of his dream. she wore a golden chain about her throat, and was the daughter of king ethal anbual. king ethal's palace was stormed by ailill, and he was forced to give up his daughter. he gave as a reason for withholding his consent so long, that on samhain princess caer changed from a maiden to a swan, and back again the next year. "and when the time came angus went to the loch, and he saw the three times fifty white birds there with their silver chains about their necks, and angus stood in a man's shape at the edge of the loch, and he called to the girl: 'come and speak with me, o caer!' "'who is calling me?' said caer. "'angus calls you,' he said, 'and if you do come, i swear by my word i will not hinder you from going into the loch again.'" gregory: _cuchulain of muirthemne._ she came, and he changed to a swan likewise, and they flew away to king dagda's palace, where every one who heard their sweet singing was charmed into a sleep of three days and three nights. princess etain, of the race of the tuatha, and wife of midir, was born again as the daughter of queen medb, the wife of ailill. she remembers a little of the land from which she came, is never quite happy, "but sometimes--sometimes--tell me: have you heard, by dusk or moonset have you never heard sweet voices, delicate music? never seen the passage of the lordly beautiful ones men call the shee?" sharp: _immortal hour._ even when she wins the love of king eochaidh. when they have been married a year, there comes midir from the land of youth. by winning a game of chess from the king, he gets anything he may ask, and prays to see the queen. when he sees her he sings a song of longing to her, and eochaidh is troubled because it is samhain, and he knows the great power the hosts of the air "have then over those who wish for happiness." "etain, speak! what is the song the harper sings, what tongue is this he speaks? for in no gaelic lands is speech like this upon the lips of men. no word of all these honey-dripping words is known to me. beware, beware the words brewed in the moonshine under ancient oaks white with pale banners of the mistletoe twined round them in their slow and stately death. it is the feast of sáveen" (samhain). sharp: _immortal hour._ in vain eochaidh pleads with her to stay with him. she has already forgotten all but midir and the life so long ago in the land of youth. "in the land of youth there are pleasant places; green meadows, woods, swift grey-blue waters. "there is no age there, nor any sorrow. as the stars in heaven are the cattle in the valleys. "great rivers wander through flowery plains. streams of milk, of mead, streams of strong ale. "there is no hunger and no thirst in the hollow land, in the land of youth." sharp: _immortal hour._ she and midir fly away in the form of two swans, linked by a chain of gold. cuchulain, hopelessly sick of a strange illness brought on by fand and liban, fairy sisters, was visited the day before samhain by a messenger, who promised to cure him if he would go to the otherworld. cuchulain could not make up his mind to go, but sent laeg, his charioteer. such glorious reports did laeg bring back from the otherworld, "if all erin were mine, and the kingship of yellow bregia, i would give it, no trifling deed, to dwell for aye in the place i reached." _cuchulain's sick-bed._ (meyer _trans._) that cuchulain went thither, and championed the people there against their enemies. he stayed a month with the fairy fand. emer, his wife at home, was beset with jealousy, and plotted against fand, who had followed her hero home. fand in fear returned to her deserted husband, emer was given a druidic drink to drown her jealousy, and cuchulain another to forget his infatuation, and they lived happily afterward. even after christianity was made the vital religion in ireland, it was believed that places not exorcised by prayers and by the sign of the cross, were still haunted by druids. as late as the fifth century the druids kept their skill in fortune-telling. king dathi got a druid to foretell what would happen to him from one hallowe'en to the next, and the prophecy came true. their religion was now declared evil, and all evil or at any rate suspicious beings were assigned to them or to the devil as followers. "_maire bruin:_ are not they, likewise, the children of god? _father hart:_ colleen, they are the children of the fiend, and they have power until the end of time, when god shall fight with them a great pitched battle and hack them into pieces." yeats: _land of heart's desire._ the power of fairy music was so great that st. patrick himself was put to sleep by a minstrel who appeared to him on the day before samhain. the tuatha de danann, angered at the renegade people who no longer did them honor, sent another minstrel, who after laying the ancient religious seat tara under a twenty-three years' charm, burned up the city with his fiery breath. these infamous spirits dwelt in grassy mounds, called "forts," which were the entrances to underground palaces full of treasure, where was always music and dancing. these treasure-houses were open only on november eve "for the fairy mounds of erinn are always opened about hallowe'en." _expedition of nera._ (meyer _trans._) when the throngs of spirits, fairies, and goblins trooped out for revels about the country. the old druid idea of obsession, the besieging of a person by an evil spirit, was practised by them at that time. "this is the first day of the winter, and to-day the hosts of the air are in their greatest power." warren: _twig of thorn._ if the fairies wished to seize a mortal--which power they had as the sun-god could take men to himself--they caused him to give them certain tokens by which he delivered himself into their hands. they might be milk and fire-- "_maire bruin:_ a little queer old woman cloaked in green, who came to beg a porringer of milk. _bridget bruin:_ the good people go asking milk and fire upon may eve--woe to the house that gives, for they have power over it for a year." yeats: _land of heart's desire._ or one might receive a fairy thorn such as oonah brings home, which shrivels up at the touch of st. bridget's image; "oh, ever since i kept the twig of thorn and hid it, i have seen strange things, and heard strange laughter and far voices calling." warren: _twig of thorn._ or one might be lured by music as he stopped near the fort to watch the dancing, for the revels were held in secret, as those of the druids had been, and no one could look on them unaffected. a story is told of paddy more, a great stout uncivil churl, and paddy beg, a cheerful little hunchback. the latter, seeing lights and hearing music, paused by a mound, and was invited in. urged to tell stories, he complied; he danced as spryly as he could for his deformity; he sang, and made himself so agreeable that the fairies decided to take the hump off his back, and send him home a straight manly fellow. the next hallowe'en who should come by the same place but paddy more, and he stopped likewise to spy at the merrymaking. he too was called in, but would not dance politely, added no stories nor songs. the fairies clapped paddy beg's hump on his back, and dismissed him under a double burden of discomfort. a lad called guleesh, listening outside a fort on hallowe'en heard the spirits speaking of the fatal illness of his betrothed, the daughter of the king of france. they said that if guleesh but knew it, he might boil an herb that grew by his door and give it to the princess and make her well. joyfully guleesh hastened home, prepared the herb, and cured the royal girl. sometimes people did not have the luck to return, but were led away to a realm of perpetual youth and music. "_father hart._ what are you reading? _maire bruin._ how a princess edane, a daughter of a king of ireland, heard a voice singing on a may eve like this, and followed, half awake and half asleep, until she came into the land of faery, where nobody gets old and godly and grave, where nobody gets old and crafty and wise, where nobody gets old and bitter of tongue; and she is still there, busied with a dance, deep in the dewy shadow of a wood, or where stars walk upon a mountain-top." yeats: _land of heart's desire._ if one returned, he found that the space which seemed to him but one night, had been many years, and with the touch of earthly sod the age he had postponed suddenly weighed him down. ossian, released from fairyland after three hundred years dalliance there, rode back to his own country on horseback. he saw men imprisoned under a block of marble and others trying to lift the stone. as he leaned over to aid them the girth broke. with the touch of earth "straightway the white horse fled away on his way home, and ossian became aged, decrepit, and blind." no place as much as ireland has kept the belief in all sorts of supernatural spirits abroad among its people. from the time when on the hill of ward, near tara, in pre-christian days, the sacrifices were burned and the tuatha were thought to appear on samhain, to as late as , testimony to actual appearances of the "little people" is to be found. "'among the usually invisible races which i have seen in ireland, i distinguish five classes. there are the gnomes, who are earth-spirits, and who seem to be a sorrowful race. i once saw some of them distinctly on the side of ben bulbin. they had rather round heads and dark thick-set bodies, and in stature were about two and one-half feet. the leprechauns are different, being full of mischief, though they, too, are small. i followed a leprechaun from the town of wicklow out to the carraig sidhe, "rock of the fairies," a distance of half a mile or more, where he disappeared. he had a very merry face, and beckoned to me with his finger. a third class are the little people, who, unlike the gnomes and leprechauns, are quite good-looking; and they are very small. the good people are tall, beautiful beings, as tall as ourselves.... they direct the magnetic currents of the earth. the gods are really the tuatha de danann, and they are much taller than our race.'" wentz: _fairy-faith in celtic countries._ the sight of apparitions on hallowe'en is believed to be fatal to the beholder. "one night my lady's soul walked along the wall like a cat. long tom bowman beheld her and that day week fell he into the well and was drowned." pyle: _priest and the piper._ one version of the jack-o'-lantern story comes from ireland. a stingy man named jack was for his inhospitality barred from all hope of heaven, and because of practical jokes on the devil was locked out of hell. until the judgment day he is condemned to walk the earth with a lantern to light his way. the place of the old lord of the dead, the tuatha god saman, to whom vigil was kept and prayers said on november eve for the good of departed souls, was taken in christian times by st. colomba or columb kill, the founder of a monastery in iona in the fifth century. in the seventeenth century the irish peasants went about begging money and goodies for a feast, and demanding in the name of columb kill that fatted calves and black sheep be prepared. in place of the druid fires, candles were collected and lighted on hallowe'en, and prayers for the souls of the givers said before them. the name of saman is kept in the title "oidhche shamhna," "vigil of saman," by which the night of october st was until recently called in ireland. there are no hallowe'en bonfires in ireland now, but charms and tests are tried. apples and nuts, the treasure of pomona, figure largely in these. they are representative winter fruits, the commonest. they can be gathered late and kept all winter. a popular drink at the hallowe'en gathering in the eighteenth century was milk in which crushed roasted apples had been mixed. it was called lambs'-wool (perhaps from "la mas ubhal," "the day of the apple fruit"). at the hallowe'en supper "callcannon," mashed potatoes, parsnips, and chopped onions, is indispensable. a ring is buried in it, and the one who finds it in his portion will be married in a year, or if he is already married, will be lucky. "they had colcannon, and the funniest things were found in it--tiny dolls, mice, a pig made of china, silver sixpences, a thimble, a ring, and lots of other things. after supper was over all went into the big play-room, and dived for apples in a tub of water, fished for prizes in a basin of flour; then there were games----" trant: _hallowe'en in ireland._ a coin betokened to the finder wealth; the thimble, that he would never marry. a ring and a nut are baked in a cake. the ring of course means early marriage, the nut signifies that its finder will marry a widow or a widower. if the kernel is withered, no marriage at all is prophesied. in roscommon, in central ireland, a coin, a sloe, and a bit of wood were baked in a cake. the one getting the sloe would live longest, the one getting the wood was destined to die within the year. a mould of flour turned out on the table held similar tokens. each person cut off a slice with a knife, and drew out his prize with his teeth. after supper the tests were tried. in the last century nut-shells were burned. the best-known nut test is made as follows: three nuts are named for a girl and two sweethearts. if one burns steadily with the girl's nut, that lover is faithful to her, but if either hers or one of the other nuts starts away, there will be no happy friendship between them. apples are snapped from the end of a stick hung parallel to the floor by a twisted cord which whirls the stick rapidly when it is let go. care has to be taken not to bite the candle burning on the other end. sometimes this test is made easier by dropping the apples into a tub of water and diving for them, or piercing them with a fork dropped straight down. green herbs called "livelong" were plucked by the children and hung up on midsummer eve. if a plant was found to be still green on hallowe'en, the one who had hung it up would prosper for the year, but if it had turned yellow or had died, the child would also die. hemp-seed is sown across three furrows, the sower repeating: "hemp-seed, i saw thee, hemp-seed, i saw thee; and her that is to be my true love, come after me and draw thee." on looking back over his shoulder he will see the apparition of his future wife in the act of gathering hemp. seven cabbage stalks were named for any seven of the company, then pulled up, and the guests asked to come out, and "see their sowls." "one, two, three, and up to seven; if all are white, all go to heaven; if one is black as murtagh's evil, he'll soon be screechin' wi' the devil." red mike "was a queer one from his birth, an' no wonder, for he first saw the light atween dusk an' dark o' a hallowe'en eve." when the cabbage test was tried at a party where mike was present, six stalks were found to be white, but mike's was "all black an' fowl wi' worms an' slugs, an' wi' a real bad smell ahint it." angered at the ridicule he received, he cried: "i've the gift o' the night, i have, an' on this day my curse can blast whatever i choose." at that the priest showed mike a crucifix, and he ran away howling, and disappeared through a bog into the ground. sharp: _threefold chronicle._ twelve of the party may learn their future, if one gets a clod of earth from the churchyard sets up twelve candles in it, lights and names them. the fortune of each will be like that of the candle-light named for him,--steady, wavering, or soon in darkness. a ball of blue yarn was thrown out of the window by a girl who held fast to the end. she wound it over on her hand from left to right, saying the creed backwards. when she had nearly finished, she expected the yarn would be held. she must ask "who holds?" and the wind would sigh her sweetheart's name in at the window. in some charms the devil was invoked directly. if one walked about a rick nine times with a rake, saying, "i rake this rick in the devil's name," a vision would come and take away the rake. if one went out with nine grains of oats in his mouth, and walked about until he heard a girl's name called or mentioned, he would know the name of his future wife, for they would be the same. lead is melted, and poured through a key or a ring into cold water. the form each spoonful takes in cooling indicates the occupation of the future husband of the girl who poured it. "now something like a horse would cause the jubilant maiden to call out, 'a dragoon!' now some dim resemblance to a helmet would suggest a handsome member of the mounted police; or a round object with a spike would seem a ship, and this of course meant a sailor; or a cow would suggest a cattle-dealer, or a plough a farmer." sharp: _threefold chronicle._ after the future had been searched, a piper played a jig, to which all danced merrily with a loud noise to scare away the evil spirits. just before midnight was the time to go out "alone and unperceived" to a south-running brook, dip a shirt-sleeve in it, bring it home and hang it by the fire to dry. one must go to bed, but watch till midnight for a sight of the destined mate who would come to turn the shirt to dry the other side. ashes were raked smooth on the hearth at bedtime on hallowe'en, and the next morning examined for footprints. if one was turned from the door, guests or a marriage was prophesied; if toward the door, a death. to have prophetic dreams a girl should search for a briar grown into a hoop, creep through thrice in the name of the devil, cut it in silence, and go to bed with it under her pillow. a boy should cut ten ivy leaves, throw away one and put the rest under his head before he slept. if a girl leave beside her bed a glass of water with a sliver of wood in it, and say before she falls asleep: "husband mine that is to be, come this night and rescue me," she will dream of falling off a bridge into the water, and of being saved at the last minute by the spirit of her future husband. to receive a drink from his hand she must eat a cake of flour, soot, and salt before she goes to bed. the celtic spirit of yearning for the unknown, retained nowhere else as much as in ireland, is expressed very beautifully by the poet yeats in the introduction to his _celtic twilight_. "the host is riding from knocknarea and over the grave of clooth-na-bare; caolte tossing his burning hair, and niam calling: 'away, come away; "'and brood no more where the fire is bright, filling thy heart with a mortal dream; for breasts are heaving and eyes a-gleam: away, come away to the dim twilight "'arms are heaving and lips apart; and if any gaze on our rushing band, we come between him and the deed of his hand, we come between him and the hope of his heart.' "the host is rushing twixt night and day, and where is there hope or deed as fair? caolte tossing his burning hair, and niam calling: 'away, come away.'" chapter viii in scotland and the hebrides as in ireland the scotch baal festival of november was called samhain. western scotland, lying nearest tara, center alike of pagan and christian religion in ireland, was colonized by both the people and the customs of eastern ireland. the november eve fires which in ireland either died out or were replaced by candles were continued in scotland. in buchan, where was the altar-source of the samhain fire, bonfires were lighted on hilltops in the eighteenth century; and in moray the idea of fires of thanksgiving for harvest was kept to as late as . all through the eighteenth century in the highlands and in perthshire torches of heath, broom, flax, or ferns were carried about the fields and villages by each family, with the intent to cause good crops in succeeding years. the course about the fields was sunwise, to have a good influence. brought home at dark, the torches were thrown down in a heap, and made a fire. this blaze was called "samhnagan," "of rest and pleasure." there was much competition to have the largest fire. each person put in one stone to make a circle about it. the young people ran about with burning brands. supper was eaten out-of-doors, and games played. after the fire had burned out, ashes were raked over the stones. in the morning each sought his pebble, and if he found it misplaced, harmed, or a footprint marked near it in the ashes, he believed he should die in a year. in aberdeenshire boys went about the villages saying: "ge's a peat t' burn the witches." they were thought to be out stealing milk and harming cattle. torches used to counteract them were carried from west to east, against the sun. this ceremony grew into a game, when a fire was built by one party, attacked by another, and defended. as in the may fires of purification the lads lay down in the smoke close by, or ran about and jumped over the flames. as the fun grew wilder they flung burning peats at each other, scattered the ashes with their feet, and hurried from one fire to another to have a part in scattering as many as possible before they died out. in , at balmoral, a royal celebration of hallowe'en was recorded. royalty, tenants, and servants bore torches through the grounds and round the estates. in front of the castle was a heap of stuff saved for the occasion. the torches were thrown on. when the fire was burning its liveliest, a hobgoblin appeared, drawing in a car the figure of a witch, surrounded by fairies carrying lances. the people formed a circle about the fire, and the witch was tossed in. then there were dances to the music of bag-pipes. it was the time of year when servants changed masters or signed up anew under the old ones. they might enjoy a holiday before resuming work. so they sang: "this is hallaeven, the morn is halladay; nine free nichts till martinmas, as soon they'll wear away." children born on hallowe'en could see and converse with supernatural powers more easily than others. in ireland, evil relations caused red mike's downfall (q. v.). for scotland mary avenel, in scott's _monastery_, is the classic example. "and touching the bairn, it's weel kenn'd she was born on hallowe'en, and they that are born on hallowe'en whiles see mair than ither folk." there is no hint of dark relations, but rather of a clear-sightedness which lays bare truths, even those concealed in men's breasts. mary avenel sees the spirit of her father after he has been dead for years. the white lady of avenel is her peculiar guardian. the scottish border, where mary lived, is the seat of many superstitions and other worldly beliefs. the fairies of scotland are more terrible than those of ireland, as the dells and streams and woods are of greater grandeur, and the character of the people more serious. it is unlucky to name the fairies, here as elsewhere, except by such placating titles as "good neighbors" or "men of peace." rowan, elm, and holly are a protection against them. "i have tied red thread round the bairns' throats, and given ilk ane of them a riding-wand of rowan-tree, forbye sewing up a slip of witch-elm into their doublets; and i wish to know of your reverence if there be onything mair that a lone woman can do in the matter of ghosts and fairies?--be here! that i should have named their unlucky names twice ower!" scott: _monastery._ "the sign of the cross disarmeth all evil spirits." these spirits of the air have not human feelings or motives. they are conscienceless. in this respect peter pan is an immortal fairy as well as an immortal child. while like a child he resents injustice in horrified silence, like a fairy he acts with no sense of responsibility. when he saves wendy's brother from falling as they fly, "you felt it was his cleverness that interested him, and not the saving of human life." barrie: _peter and wendy._ the world in which peter lived was so near the kensington gardens that he could see them through the bridge as he sat on the shore of the neverland. yet for a long time he could not get to them. peter is a fairy piper who steals away the souls of children. "no man alive has seen me, but women hear me play, sometimes at door or window, fiddling the souls away-- the child's soul and the colleen's out of the covering clay." hopper: _fairy fiddler._ on hallowe'en all traditional spirits are abroad. the scotch invented the idea of a "samhanach," a goblin who comes out just at "samhain." it is he who in ireland steals children. the fairies pass at crossroads, "but the night is hallowe'en, lady, the morn is hallowday; then win me, win me, and ye will, for weel i wot ye may. "just at the mirk and midnight hour the fairy folk will ride. and they that wad their true-love win, at miles cross they maun bide." _ballad of tam lin._ and in the highlands whoever took a three-legged stool to where three crossroads met, and sat upon it at midnight, would hear the names of those who were to die in a year. he might bring with him articles of dress, and as each name was pronounced throw one garment to the fairies. they would be so pleased by this gift that they would repeal the sentence of death. even people who seemed to be like their neighbors every day could for this night fly away and join the other beings in their revels. "this is the nicht o' hallowe'en when a' the witchie may be seen; some o' them black, some o' them green, some o' them like a turkey bean." a witches' party was conducted in this way. the wretched women who had sold their souls to the devil, left a stick in bed which by evil means was made to have their likeness, and, anointed with the fat of murdered babies flew off up the chimney on a broomstick with cats attendant. burns tells the story of a company of witches pulling ragwort by the roadside, getting each astride her ragwort with the summons "up horsie!" and flying away. "the hag is astride this night for a ride, the devils and she together: through thick and through thin, now out and now in, though ne'er so foul be the weather. * * * * * "a thorn or a burr she takes for a spur, with a lash of the bramble she rides now. through brake and through briers, o'er ditches and mires, she follows the spirit that guides now." herrick: _the hag._ the meeting-place was arranged by the devil, who sometimes rode there on a goat. at their supper no bread or salt was eaten; they drank out of horses' skulls, and danced, sometimes back to back, sometimes from west to east, for the dances at the ancient baal festivals were from east to west, and it was evil and ill-omened to move the other way. for this dance the devil played a bag-pipe made of a hen's skull and cats' tails. "there sat auld nick, in shape o' beast; a tousie tyke, black, grim, and large, to gie them music was his charge: he screw'd the pipes and gart them skirl, till roof and rafters a' did dirl."[ ] burns: _tam o' shanter._ [ ] ring. the light for the revelry came from a torch flaring between the horns of the devil's steed the goat, and at the close the ashes were divided for the witches to use in incantations. people imagined that cats who had been up all night on hallowe'en were tired out the next morning. tam o' shanter who was watching such a dance "by alloway's auld haunted kirk" in ayrshire, could not resist calling out at the antics of a neighbor whom he recognized, and was pursued by the witches. he urged his horse to top-speed, "now do thy speedy utmost, meg, and win the key-stane of the brig; there at them thou thy tail may toss, a running stream they dare na cross!" burns: _tam o' shanter._ but poor meg had no tail thereafter to toss at them, for though she saved her rider, she was only her tail's length beyond the middle of the bridge when the foremost witch grasped it and seared it to a stub. such witches might be questioned about the past or future. "he that dare sit on st. swithin's chair, when the night-hag wings the troubled air, questions three, when he speaks the spell, he may ask, and she must tell." scott: _st. swithin's chair._ children make of themselves bogies on this evening, carrying the largest turnips they can save from harvest, hollowed out and carved into the likeness of a fearsome face, with teeth and forehead blacked, and lighted by a candle fastened inside. if the spirit of a person simply appears without being summoned, and the person is still alive, it means that he is in danger. if he comes toward the one to whom he appears the danger is over. if he seems to go away, he is dying. an apparition from the future especially is sought on hallowe'en. it is a famous time for divination in love affairs. a typical eighteenth century party in western scotland is described by robert burns. cabbages are important in scotch superstition. children believe that if they pile cabbage-stalks round the doors and windows of the house, the fairies will bring them a new brother or sister. "and often when in his old-fashioned way he questioned me,... who made the stars? and if within his hand he caught and held one, would his fingers burn? if i, the gray-haired dominie, was dug from out a cabbage-garden such as he was found in----" buchanan: _willie baird._ kale-pulling came first on the program in burns's _hallowe'en_. just the single and unengaged went out hand in hand blindfolded to the cabbage-garden. they pulled the first stalk they came upon, brought it back to the house, and were unbandaged. the size and shape of the stalk indicated the appearance of the future husband or wife. "maybe you would rather not pull a stalk that was tall and straight and strong--that would mean alastair? maybe you would rather find you had got hold of a withered old stump with a lot of earth at the root--a decrepit old man with plenty of money in the bank? or maybe you are wishing for one that is slim and supple and not so tall--for one that might mean johnnie semple." black: _hallowe'en wraith._ a close white head meant an old husband, an open green head a young one. his disposition would be like the taste of the stem. to determine his name, the stalks were hung over the door, and the number of one's stalk in the row noted. if jessie put hers up third from the beginning, and the third man who passed through the doorway under it was named alan, her husband's first name would be alan. this is practised only a little now among farmers. it has special virtue if the cabbage has been stolen from the garden of an unmarried person. sometimes the pith of a cabbage-stalk was pushed out, the hole filled with tow, which was set afire and blown through keyholes on hallowe'en. "their runts clean through and through were bored, and stuffed with raivelins fou, and like a chimley when on fire each could the reek outspue. "jock through the key-hole sent a cloud that reached across the house, while in below the door reek rushed like water through a sluice." dick: _splores of a hallowe'en._ cabbage-broth was a regular dish at the hallowe'en feast. mashed potatoes, as in ireland, or a dish of meal and milk holds symbolic objects--a ring, a thimble, and a coin. in the cake are baked a ring and a key. the ring signifies to the possessor marriage, and the key a journey. apple-ducking is still a universal custom in scotland. a sixpence is sometimes dropped into the tub or stuck into an apple to make the reward greater. the contestants must keep their hands behind their backs. nuts are put before the fire in pairs, instead of by threes as in ireland, and named for a lover and his lass. if they burn to ashes together, long happy married life is destined for the lovers. if they crackle or start away from each other, dissension and separation are ahead. "jean slips in twa, wi' tentie[ ] e'e; wha 't was, she wadna tell; but this is _jock_, an' this is _me_, she says in to hersel; he bleez'd owre her, an' she owre him, as they wad never mair part; till fuff! he started up the lum,[ ] and jean had e'en a sair heart to see't that night." burns: _hallowe'en._ [ ] careful. [ ] chimney. three "luggies," bowls with handles like the druid lamps, were filled, one with clean, one with dirty water, and one left empty. the person wishing to know his fate in marriage was blindfolded, turned about thrice, and put down his left hand. if he dipped it into the clean water, he would marry a maiden; if into the dirty, a widow; if into the empty dish, not at all. he tried until he got the same result twice. the dishes were changed about each time. this spell still remains, as does that of hemp-seed sowing. one goes out alone with a handful of hemp-seed, sows it across ridges of ploughed land, and harrows it with anything convenient, perhaps with a broom. having said: "hemp-seed, i saw thee, an' her that is to be my lass come after me an' draw thee----" burns: _hallowe'en._ he looks behind him to see his sweetheart gathering hemp. this should be tried just at midnight with the moon behind. "at even o' hallowmas no sleep i sought, but to the field a bag of hemp-seed brought. i scattered round the seed on every side, and three times three in trembling accents cried, 'this hemp-seed with my virgin hand i sow, who shall my true-love be, the crop shall mow.'" gay: _pastorals._ a spell that has been discontinued is throwing the clue of blue yarn into the kiln-pot, instead of out of the window, as in ireland. as it is wound backward, something holds it. the winder must ask, "wha hauds?" to hear the name of her future sweetheart. "an' ay she win't, an' ay she swat-- i wat she made nae jaukin; till something held within the pat, guid lord! but she was quakin! but whether 't was the deil himsel, or whether 't was a bauk-en'[ ] or whether it was andrew bell, she did na wait on talkin to speir[ ] that night." burns: _hallowe'en._ [ ] cross-beam. [ ] ask. another spell not commonly tried now is winnowing three measures of imaginary corn, as one stands in the barn alone with both doors open to let the spirits that come in go out again freely. as one finishes the motions, the apparition of the future husband will come in at one door and pass out at the other. "'i had not winnowed the last weight clean out, and the moon was shining bright upon the floor, when in stalked the presence of my dear simon glendinning, that is now happy. i never saw him plainer in my life than i did that moment; he held up an arrow as he passed me, and i swarf'd awa' wi' fright.... but mark the end o' 't, tibb: we were married, and the grey-goose wing was the death o' him after a'.'" scott: _the monastery._ at times other prophetic appearances were seen. "just as she was at the wark, what does she see in the moonlicht but her ain coffin moving between the doors instead of the likeness of a gudeman! and as sure's death she was in her coffin before the same time next year." anon: _tale of hallowe'en._ formerly a stack of beans, oats, or barley was measured round with the arms against sun. at the end of the third time the arms would enclose the vision of the future husband or wife. kale-pulling, apple-snapping, and lead-melting (see ireland) are social rites, but many were to be tried alone and in secret. a highland divination was tried with a shoe, held by the tip, and thrown over the house. the person will journey in the direction the toe points out. if it falls sole up, it means bad luck. girls would pull a straw each out of a thatch in broadsea, and would take it to an old woman in fraserburgh. the seeress would break the straw and find within it a hair the color of the lover's-to-be. blindfolded they plucked heads of oats, and counted the number of grains to find out how many children they would have. if the tip was perfect, not broken or gone, they would be married honorably. another way of determining the number of children was to drop the white of an egg into a glass of water. the number of divisions was the number sought. white of egg is held with water in the mouth, like the grains of oats in ireland, while one takes a walk to hear mentioned the name of his future wife. names are written on papers, and laid upon the chimney-piece. fate guides the hand of a blindfolded man to the slip which bears his sweetheart's name. a hallowe'en mirror is made by the rays of the moon shining into a looking-glass. if a girl goes secretly into a room at midnight between october and november, sits down at the mirror, and cuts an apple into nine slices, holding each on the point of a knife before she eats it, she may see in the moonlit glass the image of her lover looking over her left shoulder, and asking for the last piece of apple. the wetting of the sark-sleeve in a south-running burn where "three lairds' lands meet," and carrying it home to dry before the fire, was really a scotch custom, but has already been described in ireland. "the last hallowe'en i was waukin[ ] my droukit[ ] sark-sleeve, as ye kin-- his likeness came up the house staukin, and the very grey breeks o' tam glen!" burns: _tam glen._ [ ] watching. [ ] drenched. just before breaking up, the crowd of young people partook of sowens, oatmeal porridge cakes with butter, and strunt, a liquor, as they hoped for good luck throughout the year. the hebrides, scottish islands off the western coast, have hallowe'en traditions of their own, as well as many borrowed from ireland and scotland. barra, isolated near the end of the island chain, still celebrates the celtic days, beltaine and november eve. in the hebrides is the irish custom of eating on hallowe'en a cake of meal and salt, or a salt herring, bones and all, to dream of some one bringing a drink of water. not a word must be spoken, nor a drop of water drunk till the dream comes. in st. kilda a large triangular cake is baked which must be all eaten up before morning. a curious custom that prevailed in the island of lewis in the eighteenth century was the worship of shony, a sea-god with a norse name. his ceremonies were similar to those paid to saman in ireland, but more picturesque. ale was brewed at church from malt brought collectively by the people. one took a cupful in his hand, and waded out into the sea up to his waist, saying as he poured it out: "shony, i give you this cup of ale, hoping that you'll be so kind as to send us plenty of sea-ware, for enriching our ground the ensuing year." the party returned to the church, waited for a given signal when a candle burning on the altar was blown out. then they went out into the fields, and drank ale with dance and song. the "dumb cake" originated in lewis. girls were each apportioned a small piece of dough, mixed with any but spring water. they kneaded it with their left thumbs, in silence. before midnight they pricked initials on them with a new pin, and put them by the fire to bake. the girls withdrew to the farther end of the room, still in silence. at midnight each lover was expected to enter and lay his hand on the cake marked with his initials. in south uist and eriskay on hallowe'en fairies are out, a source of terror to those they meet. "hallowe'en will come, will come, witchcraft will be set a-going, fairies will be at full speed, running in every pass. avoid the road, children, children." but for the most part this belief has died out on scottish land, except near the border, and hallowe'en is celebrated only by stories and jokes and games, songs and dances. chapter ix in england and man man especially has a treasury of fairy tradition, celtic and norse combined. manx fairies too dwell in the middle world, since they are fit for neither heaven nor hell. even now manx people think they see circles of light in the late october midnight, and little folk dancing within. longest of all in man was sauin (samhain) considered new year's day. according to the old style of reckoning time it came on november . "to-night is new year's night. hogunnaa!" _mummers' song._ as in scotland the servants' year ends with october. new year tests for finding out the future were tried on sauin. to hear her sweetheart's name a girl took a mouthful of water and two handfuls of salt, and sat down at a door. the first name she heard mentioned was the wished-for one. the three dishes proclaimed the fate of the blindfolded seeker as in scotland. each was blindfolded and touched one of several significant objects--meal for prosperity, earth for death, a net for tangled fortunes. before retiring each filled a thimble with salt, and emptied it out in a little mound on a plate, remembering his own. if any heap were found fallen over by morning, the person it represented was destined to die in a year. the manx looked for prints in the smooth-strewn ashes on the hearth, as the scotch did, and gave the same interpretation. there had been christian churches in britain as early as a. d., and christian missionaries, st. ninian, pelagius, and st. patrick, were active in the next century, and in the course of time st. augustine. still the old superstitions persisted, as they always do when they have grown up with the people. king arthur, who was believed to have reigned in the fifth century, may be a personification of the sun-god. he comes from the otherworld, his magic sword excalibur is brought thence to him, he fights twelve battles, in number like the months, and is wounded to death by evil modred, once his own knight. he passes in a boat, attended by his fairy sister and two other queens, "'to the island-valley of avilion; where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies deep-meadowed, happy, fair with orchard-lawns and bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea----'" tennyson: _passing of arthur._ the hope of being healed there is like that given to cuchulain (q. v.), to persuade him to visit the fairy kingdom. arthur was expected to come again sometime, as the sun renews his course. as he disappeared from the sight of bedivere, the last of his knights, "the new sun rose bringing the new year." _ibid._ avilion means "apple-island." it was like the hesperides of greek mythology, the western islands where grew the golden apples of immortality. in cornwall after the sixth century, the sun-god became st. michael, and the eastern point where he appeared st. michael's seat. "where the great vision of the guarded mount looks toward namancos, and bayona's hold." milton: _lycidas._ as fruit to pomona, so berries were devoted to fairies. they would not let any one cut a blackthorn shoot on hallowe'en. in cornwall sloes and blackberries were considered unfit to eat after the fairies had passed by, because all the goodness was extracted. so they were eaten to heart's content on october st, and avoided thereafter. hazels, because they were thought to contain wisdom and knowledge, were also sacred. besides leaving berries for the "little people," food was set out for them on hallowe'en, and on other occasions. they rewarded this hospitality by doing an extraordinary amount of work. "--how the drudging goblin sweat to earn his cream-bowl duly set, when in one night, ere glimpse of morn, his shadowy flail hath threshed the corn that ten day-laborers could not end. then lies him down the lubbar fiend, and stretcht out all the chimney's length basks at the fire his hairy strength." milton: _l'allegro._ such sprites did not scruple to pull away the chair as one was about to sit down, to pinch, or even to steal children and leave changelings in their places. the first hint of dawn drove them back to their haunts. "when larks 'gin sing, away we fling; and babes new borne steal as we go, and elfe in bed we leave instead, and wend us laughing, ho, ho, ho!" jonson: _robin goodfellow._ soulless and without gratitude or memory spirits of the air may be, like ariel in _the tempest_. he, like the fairy harpers of ireland, puts men to sleep with his music. "_sebastian._ what, art thou waking? _antonio._ do you not hear me speak? _sebastian._ i do; and, surely, it is a sleepy language; and thou speak'st out of thy sleep: what is it thou didst say? this is a strange repose, to be asleep with eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving, and yet so fast asleep." shakspere: _the tempest._ the people of england, in common with those who lived in the other countries of great britain and in europe, dreaded the coming of winter not only on account of the cold and loneliness, but because they believed that at this time the powers of evil were abroad and ascendant. this belief harked back to the old idea that the sun had been vanquished by his enemies in the late autumn. it was to forget the fearful influences about them that the english kept festival so much in the winter-time. the lords of misrule, leaders of the revelry, "beginning their rule on all hallow eve, continued the same till the morrow after the feast of the purification, commonlie called candelmas day: in all of which space there were fine and subtle disguisinges, maskes, and mummeries." this was written of king henry iv's court at eltham, in , and is true of centuries before and after. they gathered about the fire and made merry while the october tempests whirled the leaves outside, and shrieked round the house like ghosts and demons on a mad carousal. "the autumn wind--oh hear it howl: without--october's tempests scowl, as he troops away on the raving wind! and leaveth dry leaves in his path behind. * * * * * "'tis the night--the night of the graves' delight, and the warlock[ ] are at their play! ye think that without the wild winds shout, but no, it is they--it is they!" coxe: _hallowe'en._ [ ] devils. witchcraft--the origin of which will be traced farther on--had a strong following in england. the three witches in _macbeth_ are really fates who foretell the future, but they have a kettle in which they boil "fillet of a fenny snake, * * * * * eye of newt, and toe of frog, wool of bat, and tongue of dog, adder's fork, and blindworm's sting, lizard's leg, and owlet's wing, for a charm of powerful trouble----" shakspere: _macbeth._ they connect themselves thereby with those evil creatures who pursued tam o' shanter, and were servants of the devil. in in lincolnshire, people believed that if they looked in through the church door on hallowe'en they would see the devil preaching his doctrines from the pulpit, and inscribing the names of new witches in his book. the spectre huntsman, known in windsor forest as herne the hunter, and in todmorden as gabriel ratchets, was the spirit of an ungodly hunter who for his crimes was condemned to lead the chase till the judgment day. in a storm on hallowe'en is heard the belling of his hounds. "still, still shall last the dreadful chase till time itself shall have an end; by day they scour earth's cavern'd space, at midnight's witching hour, ascend. "this is the horn, the hound, and horse, that oft the lated peasant hears: appall'd, he signs the frequent cross, when the wild din invades his ears." scott: _wild huntsman._ in the north of england hallowe'en was called "nut-crack" and "snap-apple night." it was celebrated by "young people and sweethearts." a variation of the nut test is, naming two for two lovers before they are put before the fire to roast. the unfaithful lover's nut cracks and jumps away, the loyal burns with a steady ardent flame to ashes. "two hazel-nuts i threw into the flame, and to each nut i gave a sweetheart's name. this with the loudest bounce me sore amaz'd, that in a flame of brightest color blaz'd; as blaz'd the nut, so may thy passion grow, for 't was thy nut that did so brightly glow." gay: _the spell._ if they jump toward each other, they will be rivals. if one of the nuts has been named for the girl and burns quietly with a lover's nut, they will live happily together. if they are restless, there is trouble ahead. "these glowing nuts are emblems true of what in human life we view; the ill-matched couple fret and fume, and thus in strife themselves consume, or from each other wildly start and with a noise forever part. but see the happy, happy pair of genuine love and truth sincere; with mutual fondness, while they burn still to each other kindly turn: and as the vital sparks decay, together gently sink away. till, life's fierce ordeal being past, their mingled ashes rest at last." graydon: _on nuts burning, allhallows eve._ sometimes peas on a hot shovel are used instead. down the centuries from the druid tree-worship comes the spell of the walnut-tree. it is circled thrice, with the invocation: "let her that is to be my true-love bring me some walnuts;" and directly a spirit will be seen in the tree gathering nuts. "last hallow eve i sought a walnut-tree, in hope my true love's face that i might see; three times i called, three times i walked apace; then in the tree i saw my true love's face." gay: _pastorals._ the seeds of apples were used in many trials. two stuck on cheeks or eyelids indicated by the time they clung the faithfulness of the friends named for them. "see from the core two kernels brown i take: this on my cheek for lubberkin is worn, and booby clod on t'other side is borne; but booby clod soon drops upon the ground, a certain token that his love's unsound; while lubberkin sticks firmly to the last. oh! were his lips to mine but joined so fast." gay: _pastorals._ in a tub float stemless apples, to be seized by the teeth of him desirous of having his love returned. if he is successful in bringing up the apple, his love-affair will end happily. "the rosy apple's bobbing upon the mimic sea-- 't is tricksy and elusive, and glides away from me. "one moment it is dreaming beneath the candle's glare, then over wave and eddy it glances here and there. "and when at last i capture the prize with joy aglow, i sigh, may i this sunshine of golden rapture know "when i essay to gather in all her witchery love's sweetest rosy apple on love's uncertain sea." munkittrick: _hallowe'en wish._ an apple is peeled all in one piece, and the paring swung three times round the head and dropped behind the left shoulder. if it does not break, and is looked at over the shoulder it forms the initial of the true sweetheart's name. "i pare this pippin round and round again, my sweetheart's name to flourish on the plain: i fling the unbroken paring o'er my head. a perfect 'l' upon the ground is read." gay: _pastorals._ in the north of england was a unique custom, "the scadding of peas." a pea-pod was slit, a bean pushed inside, and the opening closed again. the full pods were boiled, and apportioned to be shelled and the peas eaten with butter and salt. the one finding the bean on his plate would be married first. gay records another test with peas which is like the final trial made with kale-stalks. "as peascods once i plucked i chanced to see one that was closely filled with three times three; which when i crop'd, i safely home convey'd, and o'er the door the spell in secret laid;-- the latch moved up, when who should first come in, but in his proper person--lubberkin." gay: _pastorals._ candles, relics of the sacred fire, play an important part everywhere on hallowe'en. in england too the lighted candle and the apple were fastened to the stick, and as it whirled, each person in turn sprang up and tried to bite the apple. "or catch th' elusive apple with a bound, as with the taper it flew whizzing round." this was a rough game, more suited to boys' frolic than the ghostly divinations that preceded it. those with energy to spare found material to exercise it on. in an old book there is a picture of a youth sitting on a stick placed across two stools. on one end of the stick is a lighted candle from which he is trying to light another in his hand. beneath is a tub of water to receive him if he over-balances sideways. these games grew later into practical jokes. the use of a goblet may perhaps come from the story of "the luck of edenhall," a glass stolen from the fairies, and holding ruin for the house by whom it was stolen, if it should ever be broken. with ring and goblet this charm was tried: the ring, symbol of marriage, was suspended by a hair within a glass, and a name spelled out by beginning the alphabet over each time the ring struck the glass. when tired of activity and noise, the party gathered about a story-teller, or passed a bundle of fagots from hand to hand, each selecting one and reciting an installment of the tale till his stick burned to ashes. "i tell ye the story this chill hallowe'en, for it suiteth the spirit-eve." coxe: _hallowe'en._ to induce prophetic dreams the wood-and-water test was tried in england also. "last hallow eve i looked my love to see, and tried a spell to call her up to me. with wood and water standing by my side i dreamed a dream, and saw my own sweet bride." gay: _pastorals._ though hallowe'en is decidedly a country festival, in the seventeenth century young gentlemen in london chose a master of the revels, and held masques and dances with their friends on this night. in central and southern england the ecclesiastical side of hallowtide is stressed. bread or cake has till recently ( ) been as much a part of hallowe'en preparations as plum pudding at christmas. probably this originated from an autumn baking of bread from the new grain. in yorkshire each person gets a triangular seed-cake, and the evening is called "cake night." "wife, some time this weeke, if the wether hold cleere, an end of wheat-sowing we make for this yeare. remember you, therefore, though i do it not, the seed-cake, the pasties, and furmentie-pot." tusser: _five hundred points of good husbandry_, . cakes appear also at the vigil of all souls', the next day. at a gathering they lie in a heap for the guests to take. in return they are supposed to say prayers for the dead. "a soule-cake, a soule-cake; have mercy on all christen souls for a soule-cake." _old saying._ the poor in staffordshire and shropshire went about singing for soul-cakes or money, promising to pray and to spend the alms in masses for the dead. the cakes were called soul-mass or "somas" cakes. "soul! soul! for a soul-cake; pray, good mistress, for a soul-cake. one for peter, two for paul, three for them who made us all." _notes and queries._ in dorsetshire hallowe'en was celebrated by the ringing of bells in memory of the dead. king henry viii and later queen elizabeth issued commands against this practice. in lancashire in the early nineteenth century people used to go about begging for candles to drive away the gatherings of witches. if the lights were kept burning till midnight, no evil influence could remain near. in derbyshire, central england, torches of straw were carried about the stacks on all souls' eve, not to drive away evil spirits, as in scotland, but to light souls through purgatory. like the bretons, the english have the superstition that the dead return on hallowe'en. "'why do you wait at your door, woman, alone in the night?' 'i am waiting for one who will come, stranger, to show him a light. he will see me afar on the road, and be glad at the sight.' "'have you no fear in your heart, woman, to stand there alone? there is comfort for you and kindly content beside the hearthstone.' but she answered, 'no rest can i have till i welcome my own.' "'is it far he must travel to-night, this man of your heart?' 'strange lands that i know not, and pitiless seas have kept us apart, and he travels this night to his home without guide, without chart.' "'and has he companions to cheer him?' 'aye, many,' she said. 'the candles are lighted, the hearthstones are swept, the fires glow red. we shall welcome them out of the night-- our home-coming dead.'" letts: _hallowe'en._ [illustration: the witch of the walnut-tree.] chapter x in wales in wales the custom of fires persisted from the time of the druid festival-days longer than in any other place. first sacrifices were burned in them; then instead of being burned to death, the creatures merely passed through the fire; and with the rise of christianity fire was thought to be a protection against the evil power of the same gods. pontypridd, in south wales, was the druid religious center of wales. it is still marked by a stone circle and an altar on a hill. in after years it was believed that the stones were people changed to that form by the power of a witch. in north wales the november eve fire, which each family built in the most prominent place near the house, was called coel coeth. into the dying fire each member of the family threw a white stone marked so that he could recognize it again. circling about the fire hand-in-hand they said their prayers and went to bed. in the morning each searched for his stone, and if he could not find it, he believed that he would die within the next twelve months. this is still credited. there is now the custom also of watching the fires till the last spark dies, and instantly rushing down hill, "the devil (or the cutty black sow) take the hindmost." a cardiganshire proverb says: "a cutty[ ] black sow on every stile, spinning and carding every allhallows' eve." [ ] short-tailed. november eve was called "nos-galan-gaeof," the night of the winter calends, that is, the night before the first day of winter. to the welsh it was new year's eve. welsh fairy tradition resembles that in the near-by countries. there is an old story of a man who lay down to sleep inside a fairy ring, a circle of greener grass where the fairies danced by night. the fairies carried him away and kept him seven years, and after he had been rescued from them he would neither eat nor speak. in the sea was the otherworld, a "green fairy island reposing in sunlight and beauty on ocean's calm breast." parry: _welsh melodies._ this was the abode of the druids, and hence of all supernatural beings, who were "something betwixt heaven and hell, something that neither stood nor fell." scott: _the monastery._ as in other countries the fairies or pixies are to be met at crossroads, where happenings, such as funerals, may be witnessed weeks before they really occur. at the hallow eve supper parsnips and cakes are eaten, and nuts and apples roasted. a "puzzling jug" holds the ale. in the rim are three holes that seem merely ornamental. they are connected with the bottom of the jug by pipes through the handle, and the unwitting toper is well drenched unless he is clever enough to see that he must stop up two of the holes, and drink through the third. spells are tried in wales too with apples and nuts. there is ducking and snapping for apples. nuts are thrown into the fire, denoting prosperity if they blaze brightly, misfortune if they pop, or smoulder and turn black. "old pally threw on a nut. it flickered and then blazed up. maggee tossed one into the fire. it smouldered and gave no light." marks: _all-hallows honeymoon._ fate is revealed by the three luggies and the ball of yarn thrown out of the window: scotch and irish charms. the leek takes the place of the cabbage in scotland. since king cadwallo decorated his soldiers with leeks for their valor in a battle by a leek-garden, they have been held in high esteem in wales. a girl sticks a knife among leeks at hallowe'en, and walks backward out of the garden. she returns later to find that her future husband has picked up the knife and thrown it into the center of the leek-bed. taking two long-stemmed roses, a girl goes to her room in silence. she twines the stems together, naming one for her sweetheart and the other for herself, and thinking this rhyme: "twine, twine, and intertwine. let his love be wholly mine. if his heart be kind and true, deeper grow his rose's hue." she can see, by watching closely, her lover's rose grow darker. the sacred ash figures in one charm. the party of young people seek an even-leaved sprig of ash. the first who finds one calls out "cyniver." if a boy calls out first, the first girl who finds another perfect shoot bears the name of the boy's future wife. dancing and singing to the music of the harp close the evening. instead of leaving stones in the fire to determine who are to die, people now go to church to see by the light of a candle held in the hand the spirits of those marked for death, or to hear the names called. the wind "blowing over the feet of the corpses" howls about the doors of those who will not be alive next hallowe'en. on the eve of all souls' day, twenty-four hours after hallowe'en, children in eastern wales go from house to house singing for "an apple or a pear, a plum or a cherry, or any good thing to make us merry." it is a time when charity is given freely to the poor. on this night and the next day, fires are burned, as in england, to light souls through purgatory, and prayers are made for a good wheat harvest next year by the welsh, who keep the forms of religion very devoutly. chapter xi in brittany and france the celts had been taught by their priests that the soul is immortal. when the body died the spirit passed instantly into another existence in a country close at hand. we remember that the otherworld of the british isles, peopled by the banished tuatha and all superhuman beings, was either in caves in the earth, as in ireland, or in an island like the english avalon. by giving a mortal one of their magic apples to eat, fairies could entice him whither they would, and at last away into their country. in the irish story of nera (q. v.), the corpse of the criminal is the cause of nera's being lured into the cave. so the dead have the same power as fairies, and live in the same place. on may eve and november eve the dead and the fairies hold their revels together and make excursions together. if a young person died, he was said to be called away by the fairies. the tuatha may not have been a race of gods, but merely the early celts, who grew to godlike proportions as the years raised a mound of lore and legends for their pedestal. so they might really be only the dead, and not of superhuman nature. in the fourth century a. d., the men of england were hard pressed by the picts and scots from the northern border, and were helped in their need by the teutons. when this tribe saw the fair country of the britons they decided to hold it for themselves. after they had driven out the northern tribes, in the fifth century, when king arthur was reigning in cornwall, they drove out those whose cause they had fought. so the britons were scattered to the mountains of wales, to cornwall, and across the channel to armorica, a part of france, which they named brittany after their home-land. in lower brittany, out of the zone of french influence, a language something like welsh or old british is still spoken, and many of the celtic beliefs were retained more untouched than in britain, not clear of paganism till the seventeenth century. here especially did christianity have to adapt the old belief to her own ends. gaul, as we have seen from cæsar's account, had been one of the chief seats of druidical belief. the religious center was carnutes, now chartrain. the rites of sacrifice survived in the same forms as in the british isles. in the fields of deux-sèvres fires were built of stubble, ferns, leaves, and thorns, and the people danced about them and burned nuts in them. on st. john's day animals were burned in the fires to secure the cattle from disease. this was continued down into the seventeenth century. the pagan belief that lasted the longest in brittany, and is by no means dead yet, was the cult of the dead. cæsar said that the celts of gaul traced their ancestry from the god of death, whom he called dispater. now figures of l'ankou, a skeleton armed with a spear, can be seen in most villages of brittany. this mindfulness of death was strengthened by the sight of the prehistoric cairns of stones on hilltops, the ancient altars of the druids, and dolmens, formed of one flat rock resting like a roof on two others set up on end with a space between them, ancient tombs; and by the bretons being cut off from the rest of france by the nature of the country, and shut in among the uplands, black and misty in november, and blown over by chill atlantic winds. under a seeming dull indifference and melancholy the bretons conceal a lively imagination, and no place has a greater wealth of legendary literature. what fairies, dwarfs, pixies, and the like are to the celts of other places, the spirits of the dead are to the celts of brittany. they possess the earth on christmas, st. john's day, and all saints'. in finistère, that western point of france, there is a saying that on the eve of all souls' "there are more dead in every house than sands on the shore." the dead have the power to charm mortals and take them away, and to foretell the future. they must not be spoken of directly, any more than the fairies of the scottish border, or met with, for fear of evil results. by the bretons of the sixth century the near-by island of britain, which they could just see on clear days, was called the otherworld. an historian, procopius, tells how the people nearest britain were exempted from paying tribute to the franks, because they were subject to nightly summons to ferry the souls of the dead across in their boats, and deliver them into the hands of the keeper of souls. farther inland a black bog seemed to be the entrance to an otherworld underground. one location which combined the ideas of an island and a cave was a city buried in the sea. the people imagined they could hear the bells of ker-is ringing, and joyous music sounding, for though this was a city of the dead, it resembled the fairy palaces of ireland, and was ruled by king grallon and his fair daughter dahut, who could lure mortals away by her beauty and enchantments. the approach of winter is believed to drive like the flocks, the souls of the dead from their cold cheerless graves to the food and warmth of home. this is why november eve, the night before the first day of winter, was made sacred to them. "when comes the harvest of the year before the scythe the wheat will fall." botrel: _songs of brittany._ the harvest-time reminded the bretons of the garnering by that reaper, death. on november eve milk is poured on graves, feasts and candles set out on the tables, and fires lighted on the hearths to welcome the spirits of departed kinsfolk and friends. in france from the twelfth to the fourteenth century stone buildings like lighthouses were erected in cemeteries. they were twenty or thirty feet high, with lanterns on top. on hallowe'en they were kept burning to safeguard the people from the fear of night-wandering spirits and the dead, so they were called "lanternes des morts." the cemetery is the social center of the breton village. it is at once meeting-place, playground, park, and church. the tombs that outline the hills make the place seem one vast cemetery. on all souls' eve in the mid-nineteenth century the "procession of tombs" was held. all formed a line and walked about the cemetery, calling the names of those who were dead, as they approached their resting-places. the record was carefully remembered, so that not one should seem to be forgotten. "we live with our dead," say the bretons. first on the eve of all souls' comes the religious service, "black vespers." the blessedness of death is praised, the sorrows and shortness of life dwelt upon. after a common prayer all go out to the cemetery to pray separately, each by the graves of his kin, or to the "place of bones," where the remains of those long dead are thrown all together in one tomb. they can be seen behind gratings, by the people as they pass, and rows of skulls at the sides of the entrance can be touched. in these tombs are latin inscriptions meaning: "remember thou must die," "to-day to me, and to-morrow to thee," and others reminding the reader of his coming death. from the cemetery the people go to a house or an inn which is the gathering-place for the night, singing or talking loudly on the road to warn the dead who are hastening home, lest they may meet. reunions of families take place on this night, in the spirit of the roman feast of the dead, the feralia, of which ovid wrote: "after the visit to the tombs and to the ancestors who are no longer with us, it is pleasant to turn towards the living; after the loss of so many, it is pleasant to behold those who remain of our blood, and to reckon up the generations of our descendants." _fasti._ a toast is drunk to the memory of the departed. the men sit about the fireplace smoking or weaving baskets; the women apart, knitting or spinning by the light of the fire and one candle. the children play with their gifts of apples and nuts. as the hour grows later, and mysterious noises begin to be heard about the house, and a curtain sways in a draught, the thoughts of the company already centred upon the dead find expression in words, and each has a tale to tell of an adventure with some friend or enemy who has died. the dead are thought to take up existence where they left it off, working at the same trades, remembering their old debts, likes and dislikes, even wearing the same clothes they wore in life. most of them stay not in some distant, definite otherworld, but frequent the scenes of their former life. they never trespass upon daylight, and it is dangerous to meet them at night, because they are very ready to punish any slight to their memory, such as selling their possessions or forgetting the hospitality due them. l'ankou will come to get a supply of shavings if the coffins are not lined with them to make a softer resting-place for the dead bodies. the lively celtic imagination turns the merest coincidence into an encounter with a spirit, and the poetic temperament of the narrators clothes the stories with vividness and mystery. they tell how the presence of a ghost made the midsummer air so cold that even wood did not burn, and of groans and footsteps underground as long as the ghost is displeased with what his relatives are doing. just before midnight a bell-man goes about the streets to give warning of the hour when the spirits will arrive. "they will sit where we sat, and will talk of us as we talked of them: in the gray of the morning only will they go away." le braz: _night of the dead._ the supper for the souls is then set out. the poor who live in the mountains have only black corn, milk, and smoked bacon to offer, but it is given freely. those who can afford it spread on a white cloth dishes of clotted milk, hot pancakes, and mugs of cider. after all have retired to lie with both eyes shut tight lest they see one of the guests, death-singers make their rounds, chanting under the windows: "you are comfortably lying in your bed, but with the poor dead it is otherwise; you are stretched softly in your bed while the poor souls are wandering abroad. "a white sheet and five planks, a bundle of straw beneath the head, five feet of earth above are all the worldly goods we own." le braz: _night of the dead._ the tears of their deserted friends disturb the comfort of the dead, and sometimes they appear to tell those in sorrow that their shrouds are always wet from the tears shed on their graves. wakened by the dirge of the death-singers the people rise and pray for the souls of the departed. divination has little part in the annals of the evening, but one in finistère is recorded. twenty-five new needles are laid in a dish, and named, and water is poured upon them. those who cross are enemies. in france is held a typical continental celebration of all saints' and all souls'. on october st the children go asking for flowers to decorate the graves, and to adorn the church. at night bells ring to usher in all saints'. on the day itself the churches are decorated gaily with flowers, candles, and banners, and a special service is held. on the second day of november the light and color give way to black drapings, funeral songs, and prayers. chapter xii the teutonic religion. witches the teutons, that race of northern peoples called by the romans, "barbarians," comprised the goths and vandals who lived in scandinavia, and the germans who dwelt north of italy and east of gaul. the nature of the northern country was such that the people could not get a living by peaceful agriculture. so it was natural that in the intervals of cattle-tending they should explore the seas all about, and ravage neighboring lands. the romans and the gauls experienced this in the centuries just before and after christ, and england from the eighth to the tenth centuries. such a life made the norsemen adventurous, hardy, warlike, independent, and quick of action, while the celts were by nature more slothful and fond of peaceful social gatherings, though of quicker intellect and wit. like the greeks and romans, the teutons had twelve gods and goddesses, among whom were odin or wotan, the king, and his wife freya, queen of beauty and love. idun guarded the apples of immortality, which the gods ate to keep them eternally young. the chief difference in teutonic mythology was the presence of an evil god, loki. like vulcan, loki was a god of fire, like him, loki was lame because he had been cast out of heaven. loki was always plotting against the other gods, as lucifer, after being banished from heaven by god, plotted against him and his people, and became satan, "the enemy." "him the almighty power hurl'd headlong flaming from th' ethereal sky with hideous ruin and combustion down to bottomless perdition, there to dwell in adamantine chains and penal fire, who durst defy th' omnipotent to arms." milton: _paradise lost._ it was this god of evil in teutonic myth who was responsible for the death of the bright beautiful sun-god, baldur. mistletoe was the only thing in the world which had not sworn not to harm baldur. loki knew this, and gave a twig of mistletoe to baldur's blind brother, hodur, and hodur cast it at baldur and "unwitting slew" him. vali, a younger brother of baldur, avenged him by killing hodur. hodur is darkness and baldur light; they are brothers; the light falls a victim to blind darkness, who reigns until a younger brother, the sun of the next day, rises to slay him in turn. below these gods, all nature was peopled with divinities. there were elves of two kinds: black elves, called trolls, who were frost-spirits, and guarded treasure (seeds) in the ground; and white elves, who lived in mid-heaven, and danced on the earth in fairy rings, where a mortal entering died. will-o'-the-wisps hovered over swamps to mislead travellers, and jack-o'-lanterns, the spirits of murderers, walked the earth near the places of their crimes. the otherworlds of the teutons were valhalla, the abode of the heroes whom death had found on the battlefield, and niflheim, "the misty realm," secure from the cold outside, ruled over by queen hel. valkyries, warlike women who rode through the air on swift horses, seized the heroes from the field of slaughter, and took them to the halls of valhalla, where they enjoyed daily combats, long feasts, and drinking-bouts, music and story-telling. the sacred tree of the druids was the oak; that of the teutonic priests the ash. the flat disk of the earth was believed to be supported by a great ash-tree, yggdrasil, "an ash know i standing, named yggdrasil, a stately tree sprinkled with water the purest; thence come the dewdrops that fall in the dales; ever-blooming, it stands o'er the urdar-fountain." _völuspa saga._ (blackwell _trans._) guarded by three fates, was, will, and shall be. the name of was means the past, of will, the power, howbeit small, which men have over present circumstances, and shall be, the future over which man has no control. vurdh, the name of the latter, gives us the word "weird," which means fate or fateful. the three weird sisters in _macbeth_ are seeresses. besides the ash, other trees and shrubs were believed to have peculiar powers, which they have kept, with some changes of meaning, to this day. the elder (elves' grave), the hawthorn, and the juniper, were sacred to supernatural powers. the priests of the teutons sacrificed prisoners of war in consecrated groves, to tyr, god of the sword. the victims were not burned alive, as by the druids, but cut and torn terribly, and their dead bodies burned. from these sacrifices auspices were taken. a man's innocence or guilt was manifested by gods to men through ordeals by fire; walking upon red-hot ploughshares, holding a heated bar of iron, or thrusting the hands into red-hot gauntlets, or into boiling water. if after a certain number of days no burns appeared the person was declared innocent. if a suspected man, thrown into the water, floated he was guilty; if he sank, he was acquitted. the rites of the celts were done in secret, and it was forbidden that they be written down. those of the teutons were commemorated in edda and saga (poetry and prose). in the far north the shortness of summer and the length of winter so impressed the people that when they made a story about it they told of a maiden, the spring, put to sleep, and guarded, along with a hoard of treasure, by a ring of fire. one knight only could break through the flames, awaken her and seize the treasure. he is the returning sun, and the treasure he gets possession of is the wealth of summer vegetation. so there is the story of brynhild, pricked by the "sleep-thorn" of her father, wotan, and sleeping until sigurd wakens her. they marry, but soon sigurd has to give her up to gunnar, the relentless winter, and gunnar cannot rest until he has killed sigurd, and reigns undisturbed. grimms' story of rapunzel, the princess who was shut up by a winter witch, and of briar-rose, pricked by a witch's spindle, and sleeping inside a hedge which blooms with spring at the knight's approach, mean likewise the struggle between summer and winter. the chief festivals of the teutonic year were held at midsummer and midwinter. may-day, the very beginning of spring, was celebrated by may-ridings, when winter and spring, personified by two warriors, engaged in a combat in which winter, the fur-clad king of ice and snow, was defeated. it was then that the sacred fire had been kindled, and the sacrificial feast held. judgments were rendered then. the summer solstice was marked by bonfires, like those of the celts on may eve and midsummer. they were kindled in an open place or on a hill, and the ceremonies held about them were similar to the celtic. as late as the eighteenth century these same customs were observed in iceland. a may-pole wreathed with magical herbs is erected as the center of the dance in sweden, and in norway a child chosen may-bride is followed by a procession as at a real wedding. this is a symbol of the wedding of sun and earth deities in the spring. the may-pole, probably imported from celtic countries, is used at midsummer because the spring does not begin in the north before june. yule-tide in december celebrated the sun's turning back, and was marked by banquets and gayety. a chief feature of all these feasts was the drinking of toasts to the gods, with vows and prayers. by the sixth century christianity had supplanted druidism in the british isles. it was the ninth before christianity made much progress in scandinavia. after king olaf had converted his nation, the toasts which had been drunk to the pagan gods were kept in honor of christian saints; for instance, those to freya were now drunk to the virgin mary or to st. gertrude. the "wetting of the sark-sleeve," that custom of scotland and ireland, was in its earliest form a rite to freya as the northern goddess of love. to secure her aid in a love-affair, a maid would wash in a running stream a piece of fine linen--for freya was fond of personal adornment--and would hang it before the fire to dry an hour before midnight. at half-past eleven she must turn it, and at twelve her lover's apparition would appear to her, coming in at the half-open door. "the wind howled through the leafless boughs, and there was every appearance of an early and severe winter, as indeed befell. long before eleven o'clock all was hushed and quiet within the house, and indeed without (nothing was heard), except the cold wind which howled mournfully in gusts. the house was an old farmhouse, and we sat in the large kitchen with its stone floor, awaiting the first stroke of the eleventh hour. it struck at last, and then all pale and trembling we hung the garment before the fire which we had piled up with wood, and set the door ajar, for that was an essential point. the door was lofty and opened upon the farmyard, through which there was a kind of thoroughfare, very seldom used, it is true, and at each end of it there was a gate by which wayfarers occasionally passed to shorten the way. there we sat without speaking a word, shivering with cold and fear, listening to the clock which went slowly, tick, tick, and occasionally starting as the door creaked on its hinges, or a half-burnt billet fell upon the hearth. my sister was ghastly white, as white as the garment which was drying before the fire. and now half an hour had elapsed and it was time to turn.... this we did, i and my sister, without saying a word, and then we again sank on our chairs on either side of the fire. i was tired, and as the clock went tick-a-tick, i began to feel myself dozing. i did doze, i believe. all of a sudden i sprang up. the clock was striking one, two, but ere it could give the third chime, mercy upon us! we heard the gate slam to with a tremendous noise...." "well, and what happened then?" "happened! before i could recover myself, my sister had sprung to the door, and both locked and bolted it. the next moment she was in convulsions. i scarcely knew what happened; and yet it appeared to me for a moment that something pressed against the door with a low moaning sound. whether it was the wind or not, i can't say. i shall never forget that night. about two hours later, my father came home. he had been set upon by a highwayman whom he beat off." borrow: _lavengro._ freya and odin especially had had power over the souls of the dead. when christianity turned all the old gods into spirits of evil, these two were accused especially of possessing unlawful learning, as having knowledge of the hidden matters of death. this unlawful wisdom is the first accusation that has always been brought against witches. a mirror is often used to contain it. such are the crystals of the astrologers, and the looking-glasses which on hallowe'en materialize wishes. from that time in the middle ages when witches were first heard of, it has nearly always been women who were accused. women for the most part were the priests in the old days: it was a woman to whom apollo at delphi breathed his oracles. in all times it has been women who plucked herbs and concocted drinks of healing and refreshment. so it was very easy to imagine that they experimented with poisons and herbs of magic power under the guidance of the now evil gods. if they were so directed, they must go on occasions to consult with their masters. the idea arose of a witches' sabbath, when women were enabled by evil means to fly away, and adore in secret the gods from whom the rest of the world had turned. there were such meeting-places all over europe. they had been places of sacrifice, of judgment, or of wells and springs considered holy under the old religion, and whither the gods had now been banished. the most famous was the blocksberg in the hartz mountains in germany. "dame baubo first, to lead the crew! a tough old sow and the mother thereon, then follow the witches, every one." goethe: _faust._ (taylor _trans._) in norway the mountains above bergen were a resort, and the dovrefeld, once the home of the trolls. "it's easy to slip in here, but outward the dovre-king's gate opens not." ibsen: _peer gynt._ (archer _trans._) in italy the witches met under a walnut tree near benevento; in france, in puy de dome; in spain, near seville. in these night-ridings odin was the leader of a wild hunt. in stormy, blustering autumn weather "the wonted roar was up among the woods." milton: _comus._ odin rode in pursuit of shadowy deer with the furious host behind him. a ghostly huntsman of a later age was dietrich von bern, doomed to hunt till the judgment day. frau venus in wagner's _tannhäuser_ held her revels in an underground palace in the horselberg in thuringia, germany. this was one of the seats of holda, the goddess of spring. venus herself is like the christian conception of freya and hel. she gathers about her a throng of nymphs, sylphs, and those she has lured into the mountain by intoxicating music and promises. "the enchanting sounds enticed only those in whose hearts wild sensuous longings had already taken root." of these tannhäuser is one. he has stayed a year, but it seems to him only one day. already he is tired of the rosy light and eternal music and languor, and longs for the fresh green world of action he once knew. he fears that he has forfeited his soul's salvation by being there at all, but cries, "salvation rests for me in mary!" wagner: _tannhäuser._ at the holy name venus and her revellers vanish, and tannhäuser finds himself in a meadow, hears the tinkling herd-bells, and a shepherd's voice singing, "frau holda, goddess of the spring, steps forth from the mountains old; she comes, and all the brooklets sing, and fled is winter's cold. * * * * * play, play, my pipe, your lightest lay, for spring has come, and merry may!" _tannhäuser._ (huckel _trans._) praising the goddess in her blameless state. by the fifteenth century satan, taking the place of the gods, assumed control of the evil creatures. now that witches were the followers of the devil, they wrote their names in his book, and were carried away by him for the revels by night. a new witch was pricked with a needle to initiate her into his company. at the party the devil was adored with worship due to god alone. dancing, a device of the pagans, and hence considered wholly wicked, was indulged in to unseemly lengths. in in sweden it was believed that dances were held about the sanctuaries of the ancient gods, and that whoever stopped to watch were caught by the dancers and whirled away. if they profaned holy days by this dancing, they were doomed to keep it up for a year. at the witches' sabbath the devil himself sometimes appeared as a goat, and the witches were attended by cats, owls, bats, and cuckoos, because these creatures had once been sacred to freya. at the feast horse-flesh, once the food of the gods at banquets, was eaten. the broth for the feast was brewed in a kettle held over the fire by a tripod, like that which supported the seat of apollo's priestess at delphi. the kettle may be a reminder of the one thor got, which gave to each guest whatever food he asked of it, or it may be merely that used in brewing the herb-remedies which women made before they were thought to practise witchcraft. in the kettle were cooked mixtures which caused storms and shipwrecks, plagues, and blights. no salt was eaten, for that was a wholesome substance. the witches of germany did not have prophetic power; those of scandinavia, like the norse fates, did have it. the troll-wives of scandinavia were like the witches of germany--they were cannibals, especially relishing children, like the witch in _hansel and grethel_. from the fourteenth to the eighteenth century all through europe and the new world people thought to be witches, and hence in the devil's service, were persecuted. it was believed that they were able to take the form of beasts. a wolf or other animal is caught in a trap or shot, and disappears. later an old woman who lives alone in the woods is found suffering from a similar wound. she is then declared to be a witch. "there was once an old castle in the middle of a vast thick wood; in it lived an old woman quite alone, and she was a witch. by day she made herself into a cat or a screech-owl, but regularly at night she became a human being again." grimm: _jorinda and joringel._ "hares found on may morning are witches and should be stoned," reads an old superstition. "if you tease a cat on may eve, it will turn into a witch and hurt you." chapter xiii walpurgis night walpurga was a british nun who went to germany in the eighth century to found holy houses. after a pious life she was buried at eichstatt, where it is said a healing oil trickled from her rock-tomb. this miracle reminded men of the fruitful dew which fell from the manes of the valkyries' horses, and when one of the days sacred to her came on may first, the wedding-day of frau holda and the sun-god, the people thought of her as a valkyrie, and identified her with holda. as, like a valkyrie, she rode armed on her steed, she scattered, like holda, spring flowers and fruitful dew upon the fields and vales. when these deities fell into disrepute, walpurga too joined the pagan train that swept the sky on the eve of may first, and afterwards on mountain-tops to sacrifice and to adore holda, as the priests had sacrificed for a prosperous season and a bountiful harvest. so this night was called walpurgis night, when evil beings were abroad, and with them human worshippers who still guarded the old faith in secret. this is very like the occasion of november eve, which shared with may first celtic manifestations of evil. witches complete the list of supernatural beings which are out on hallowe'en. all are to be met at crossroads, with harm to the beholders. a superstition goes, that if one wishes to see witches, he must put on his clothes wrong side out, and creep backward to a crossroads, or wear wild radish, on may eve. on walpurgis night precaution must be taken against witches who may harm cattle. the stable doors are locked and sealed with three crosses. sprigs of ash, hawthorn, juniper, and elder, once sacred to the pagan gods, are now used as a protection against them. horseshoes are nailed prongs up on the threshold or over the door. holy bells are hung on the cows to scare away the witches, and they are guided to pasture by a goad which has been blessed. shots are fired over the cornfield. if one wishes, he may hide in the corn and hear what will happen for a year. signs and omens on walpurgis night have more weight than at other times except on st. john's day. "on walpurgis night rain makes good crops of autumn grain," but rain on may day is harmful to them. [illustration: the witches' dance (valpurgisnacht.) _from painting by von kreling._] lovers try omens on this eve, as they do in scotland on hallowe'en. if you sleep with one stocking on, you will find on may morning in the toe a hair the color of your sweetheart's. girls try to find out the temperament of their husbands-to-be by keeping a linen thread for three days near an image of the madonna, and at midnight on may eve pulling it apart, saying: "thread, i pull thee; walpurga, i pray thee, that thou show to me what my husband's like to be." they judge of his disposition by the thread's being strong or easily broken, soft or tightly woven. dew on the morning of may first makes girls who wash in it beautiful. "the fair maid who on the first of may goes to the fields at break of day and washes in dew from the hawthorn tree will ever after handsome be." _encyclopedia of superstitions._ a heavy dew on this morning presages a good "butter-year." you will find fateful initials printed in dew on a handkerchief that has been left out all the night of april thirtieth. on may day girls invoke the cuckoo: "cuckoo! cuckoo! on the bough, tell me truly, tell me how many years there will be till a husband comes to me." then they count the calls of the cuckoo until he pauses again. if a man wears clothes made of yarn spun on walpurgis night to the may-shooting, he will always hit the bull's-eye, for the devil gives away to those he favors, "freikugeln," bullets which always hit the mark. on walpurgis night as on hallowe'en strange things may happen to one. zschokke tells a story of a walpurgis night dream that is more a vision than a dream. led to be unfaithful to his wife, a man murders the husband of a former sweetheart; to escape capture he fires a haystack, from which a whole village is kindled. in his flight he enters an empty carriage, and drives away madly, crushing the owner under the wheels. he finds that the dead man is his own brother. faced by the person whom he believes to be the devil, responsible for his misfortunes, the wretched man is ready to worship him if he will protect him. he finds that the seeming devil is in reality his guardian-angel who sent him this dream that he might learn the depths of wickedness lying unfathomed in his heart, waiting an opportunity to burst out. both may eve and st. john's eve are times of freedom and unrestraint. people are filled with a sort of madness which makes them unaccountable for their deeds. "for you see, pastor, within every one of us a spark of paganism is glowing. it has outlasted the thousand years since the old teutonic times. once a year it flames up high, and we call it st. john's fire. once a year comes free-night. yes, truly, free-night. then the witches, laughing scornfully, ride to blocksberg, upon the mountain-top, on their broomsticks, the same broomsticks with which at other times their witchcraft is whipped out of them,--then the whole wild company skims along the forest way,--and then the wild desires awaken in our hearts which life has not fulfilled." sudermann: _st. john's fire._ (porter _trans._) chapter xiv more hallowtide beliefs and customs only the celts and the teutons celebrate an occasion actually like our hallowe'en. the countries of southern europe make of it a religious vigil, like that already described in france. in italy on the night of all souls', the spirits of the dead are thought to be abroad, as in brittany. they may mingle with living people, and not be remarked. the _miserere_ is heard in all the cities. as the people pass dressed in black, bells are rung on street corners to remind them to pray for the souls of the dead. in naples the skeletons in the funeral vaults are dressed up, and the place visited on all souls' day. in salerno before the people go to the all-night service at church they set out a banquet for the dead. if any food is left in the morning, evil is in store for the house. "hark! hark to the wind! 't is the night, they say, when all souls come back from the far away-- the dead, forgotten this many a day! "and the dead remembered--ay! long and well-- and the little children whose spirits dwell in god's green garden of asphodel. "have you reached the country of all content, o souls we know, since the day you went from this time-worn world, where your years were spent? "would you come back to the sun and the rain, the sweetness, the strife, the thing we call pain, and then unravel life's tangle again? "i lean to the dark--hush!--was it a sigh? or the painted vine-leaves that rustled by? or only a night-bird's echoing cry?" sheard: _hallowe'en._ in malta bells are rung, prayers said, and mourning worn on all souls' day. graves are decorated, and the inscriptions on tombs read and reread. for the poor is prepared an all souls' dinner, as cakes are given to the poor in england and wales. the custom of decorating graves with flowers and offering flowers to the dead comes from the crowning of the dead by the ancients with short-lived blooms, to signify the brevity of life. in spain at dark on hallowe'en cakes and nuts are laid on graves to bribe the spirits not to disturb the vigils of the saints. in germany the graves of the dead are decorated with flowers and lights, on the first and second of november. to drive away ghosts from a church a key or a wand must be struck three times against a bier. an all souls' divination in germany is a girl's going out and asking the first young man she meets his name. her husband's will be like it. if she walks thrice about a church and makes a wish, she will see it fulfilled. belgian children build shrines in front of their homes with figures of the madonna and candles, and beg for money to buy cakes. as many cakes as one eats, so many souls he frees from purgatory. the races of northern europe believed that the dead returned, and were grieved at the lamentations of their living relatives. the same belief was found in brittany, and among the american indians. "think of this, o hiawatha! speak of it to all the people, that henceforward and forever they no more with lamentations sadden souls of the departed in the islands of the blessèd." longfellow: _hiawatha._ the chinese fear the dead and the dragons of the air. they devote the first three weeks in april to visiting the graves of their ancestors, and laying baskets of offerings on them. the great dragon, feng-shin, flies scattering blessings upon the houses. his path is straight, unless he meets with some building. then he turns aside, and the owner of the too lofty edifice misses the blessing. at nikko, japan, where there are many shrines to the spirits of the dead, masques are held to entertain the ghosts who return on midsummer day. every street is lined with lighted lanterns, and the spirits are sent back to the otherworld in straw boats lit with lanterns, and floated down the river. to see ghosts in japan one must put one hundred rush-lights into a large lantern, and repeat one hundred lines of poetry, taking one light out at the end of each line; or go out into the dark with one light and blow it out. ghosts are identified with witches. they come back especially on moonlit nights. "on moonlight nights, when the coast-wind whispers in the branches of the tree, o-matsue and teoyo may sometimes be seen, with bamboo rakes in their hands, gathering together the needles of the fir." rinder: _great fir-tree of takasago._ there is a chinese saying that a mirror is the soul of a woman. a pretty story is told of a girl whose mother before she died gave her a mirror, saying: "now after i am dead, if you think longingly of me, take out the thing that you will find inside this box, and look at it. when you do so my spirit will meet yours, and you will be comforted." when she was lonely or her stepmother was harsh with her, the girl went to her room and looked earnestly into the mirror. she saw there only her own face, but it was so much like her mother's that she believed it was hers indeed, and was consoled. when the stepmother learned what it was her daughter cherished so closely, her heart softened toward the lonely girl, and her life was made easier. by the arabs spirits were called djinns (or genii). they came from fire, and looked like men or beasts. they might be good or evil, beautiful or horrible, and could disappear from mortal sight at will. nights when they were abroad, it behooved men to stay under cover. "ha! they are on us, close without! shut tight the shelter where we lie; with hideous din the monster rout, dragon and vampire, fill the sky." hugo: _the djinns._ [illustration: fortune-telling.] chapter xv hallowe'en in america in colonial days hallowe'en was not celebrated much in america. some english still kept the customs of the old world, such as apple-ducking and snapping, and girls tried the apple-paring charm to reveal their lovers' initials, and the comb-and-mirror test to see their faces. ballads were sung and ghost-stories told, for the dead were thought to return on hallowe'en. "there was a young officer in phips's company at the time of the finding of the spanish treasure-ship, who had gone mad at the sight of the bursting sacks that the divers had brought up from the sea, as the gold coins covered the deck. this man had once lived in the old stone house on the 'faire greene lane,' and a report had gone out that his spirit still visited it, and caused discordant noises. once ... on a gusty november evening, when the clouds were scudding over the moon, a hall-door had blown open with a shrieking draft and a force that caused the floor to tremble." butterworth: _hallowe'en reformation._ elves, goblins, and fairies are native on american soil. the indians believed in evil _manitous_, some of whom were water-gods who exacted tribute from all who passed over their lakes. henry hudson and his fellow-explorers haunted as mountain-trolls the catskill range. like ossian and so many other visitors to the otherworld, rip van winkle is lured into the strange gathering, thinks that he passes the night there, wakes, and goes home to find that twenty years have whitened his hair, rusted his gun, and snatched from life many of his boon-companions. "my gun must have cotched the rheumatix too. now that's too bad. them fellows have gone and stolen my good gun, and leave me this rusty old barrel. "why, is that the village of falling waters that i see? why, the place is more than twice the size it was last night--i---- "i don't know whether i am dreaming, or sleeping, or waking." jefferson: _rip van winkle._ the persecution of witches, prevalent in europe, reached this side of the atlantic in the seventeenth century. "this sudden burst of wickedness and crime was but the common madness of the time, when in all lands, that lie within the sound of sabbath bells, a witch was burned or drowned." longfellow: _giles corey of the salem farms._ men and women who had enemies to accuse them of evil knowledge and the power to cause illness in others, were hanged or pressed to death by heavy weights. such sicknesses they could cause by keeping a waxen image, and sticking pins or nails into it, or melting it before the fire. the person whom they hated would be in torture, or would waste away like the waxen doll. witches' power to injure and to prophesy came from the devil, who marked them with a needle-prick. such marks were sought as evidence at trials. "witches' eyes are coals of fire from the pit." they were attended by black cats, owls, bats, and toads. iron, as being a product of fire, was a protection against them, as against evil spirits everywhere. it had especial power when in the shape of a horseshoe. "this horseshoe will i nail upon the threshold. there, ye night-hags and witches that torment the neighborhood, ye shall not enter here." longfellow: _giles corey of the salem farms._ the holiday-time of elves, witches, and ghosts is hallowe'en. it is not believed in here except by some children, who people the dark with bogies who will carry them away if they are naughty. "onc't they was a little boy wouldn't say his prayers-- an' when he went to bed at night, away upstairs, his mammy heerd him holler, an' his daddy heerd him bawl, an' when they turn't the kivvers down, he wasn't there at all! an' they seeked him in the rafter-room, an' cubby-hole, an' press, an' seeked him up the chimbley-flue, an' ever'wheres, i guess; but all they ever found was thist his pants an' roundabout! an' the gobble-uns 'll git you, ef you don't watch out!" riley: _little orphant annie._ negroes are very superstitious, putting faith in all sorts of supernatural beings. "blame my trap! how de wind do blow; and dis is das de night for de witches, sho! dey's trouble going to waste when de ole slut whine, an' you hear de cat a-spittin' when de moon don't shine." riley: _when de folks is gone._ while the original customs of hallowe'en are being forgotten more and more across the ocean, americans have fostered them, and are making this an occasion something like what it must have been in its best days overseas. all hallowe'en customs in the united states are borrowed directly or adapted from those of other countries. all superstitions, everyday ones, and those pertaining to christmas and new year's, have special value on hallowe'en. it is a night of ghostly and merry revelry. mischievous spirits choose it for carrying off gates and other objects, and hiding them or putting them out of reach. "dear me, polly, i wonder what them boys will be up to to-night. i do hope they'll not put the gate up on the shed as they did last year." wright: _tom's hallowe'en joke._ bags filled with flour sprinkle the passers-by. door-bells are rung and mysterious raps sounded on doors, things thrown into halls, and knobs stolen. such sports mean no more at hallowe'en than the tricks played the night before the fourth of july have to do with the declaration of independence. we see manifested on all such occasions the spirit of "free-night" of which george von hartwig speaks so enthusiastically in _st. john's fire_ (page ). hallowe'en parties are the real survival of the ancient merrymakings. they are prepared for in secret. guests are not to divulge the fact that they are invited. often they come masked, as ghosts or witches. the decorations make plain the two elements of the festival. for the centerpiece of the table there may be a hollowed pumpkin, filled with apples and nuts and other fruits of harvest, or a pumpkin-chariot drawn by field-mice. so it is clear that this is a harvest-party, like pomona's feast. in the coach rides a witch, representing the other element, of magic and prophecy. jack-o'-lanterns, with which the room is lighted, are hollowed pumpkins with candles inside. the candle-light shines through holes cut like features. so the lantern becomes a bogy, and is held up at a window to frighten those inside. corn-stalks from the garden stand in clumps about the room. a frieze of witches on broomsticks, with cats, bats, and owls surmounts the fireplace, perhaps. a full moon shines over all, and a caldron on a tripod holds fortunes tied in nut-shells. the prevailing colors are yellow and black: a deep yellow is the color of most ripe grain and fruit; black stands for black magic and demoniac influence. ghosts and skulls and cross-bones, symbols of death, startle the beholder. since hallowe'en is a time for lovers to learn their fate, hearts and other sentimental tokens are used to good effect, as the scotch lads of burns's time wore love-knots. having marched to the dining-room to the time of a dirge, the guests find before them plain, hearty fare; doughnuts, gingerbread, cider, popcorn, apples, and nuts honored by time. the hallowe'en cake has held the place of honor since the beginning here in america. a ring, key, thimble, penny, and button baked in it foretell respectively speedy marriage, a journey, spinsterhood, wealth, and bachelorhood. "polly was going to be married, jennie was going on a long journey, and you--down went the knife against something hard. the girls crowded round. you had a hurt in your throat, and there, there, in your slice, was the horrid, hateful, big brass thimble. it was more than you could bear--soaking, dripping wet, and an old maid!" bradley: _different party._ [illustration: a witch table. an owl table. hallowe'en tables, i.] the kitchen is the best place for the rough games and after-supper charms. on the stems of the apples which are to be dipped for may be tied names; for the boys in one tub, for the girls in another. each searcher of the future must draw out with his teeth an apple with a name which will be like that of his future mate. a variation of the irish snap-apple is a hoop hung by strings from the ceiling, round which at intervals are placed bread, apples, cakes, peppers, candies, and candles. the strings are twisted, then let go, and as the hoop revolves, each may step up and get a bite from whatever comes to him. by the taste he determines what the character of his married life will be,--whether wholesome, acid, soft, fiery, or sweet. whoever bites the candle is twice unfortunate, for he must pay a forfeit too. an apple and a bag of flour are placed on the ends of a stick, and whoever dares to seize a mouthful of apple must risk being blinded by flour. apples are suspended one to a string in a doorway. as they swing, each guest tries to secure his apple. to blow out a candle as it revolves on a stick requires attention and accuracy of aim. [illustration: a witches'-caldron table. a black-cat table. hallowe'en tables, ii.] the one who first succeeds in threading a needle as he sits on a round bottle on the floor, will be first married. twelve candles are lighted, and placed at convenient distances on the floor in a row. as the guest leaps over them, the first he blows out will indicate his wedding-month. one candle only placed on the floor and blown out in the same way means a year of wretchedness ahead. if it still burns, it presages a year of joy. among the quieter tests some of the most common are tried with apple-seeds. as in england a pair of seeds named for two lovers are stuck on brow or eyelids. the one who sticks longer is the true, the one who soon falls, the disloyal sweetheart. seeds are used in this way to tell also whether one is to be a traveler or a stay-at-home. apple-seeds are twice ominous, partaking of both apple and nut nature. even the number of seeds found in a core has meaning. if you put them upon the palm of your hand, and strike it with the other, the number remaining will tell you how many letters you will receive in a fortnight. with twelve seeds and the names of twelve friends, the old rhyme may be repeated: "one i love, two i love, three i love, i say; four i love with all my heart: five i cast away. six he loves, seven she loves, eight they both love; nine he comes, ten he tarries, eleven he courts, and twelve he marries." nuts are burned in the open fire. it is generally agreed that the one for whom the first that pops is named, loves. "if he loves me, pop and fly; if he hates me, live and die." often the superstition connected therewith is forgotten in the excitement of the moment. "when ebery one among us toe de smallest pickaninny would huddle in de chimbley cohnah's glow, toe listen toe dem chilly win's ob ole novembah's go a-screechin' lack a spook around de huts, 'twell de pickaninnies' fingahs gits to shakin' o'er de embahs, an' dey laik ter roas' dey knuckles 'stead o' nuts." in werner's _readings, number _. letters of the alphabet are carved on a pumpkin. fate guides the hand of the blindfolded seeker to the fateful initial which he stabs with a pin. letters cut out of paper are sprinkled on water in a tub. they form groups from which any one with imagination may spell out names. girls walk down cellar backward with a candle in one hand and a looking-glass in the other, expecting to see a face in the glass. "last night 't was witching hallowe'en, dearest; an apple russet-brown i pared, and thrice above my crown whirled the long skin; they watched it keen; i flung it far; they laughed and cried me shame-- dearest, there lay the letter of your name. "took i the mirror then, and crept down, down the creaking narrow stair; the milk-pans caught my candle's flare and mice walked soft and spiders slept. i spoke the spell, and stood the magic space, dearest--and in the glass i saw your face! "and then i stole out in the night alone; the frogs piped sweet and loud, the moon looked through a ragged cloud. thrice round the house i sped me light, dearest; and there, methought--charm of my charms! you met me, kissed me, took me to your arms!" opper: _the charms._ there are many mirror-tests. a girl who sits before a mirror at midnight on hallowe'en combing her hair and eating an apple will see the face of her true love reflected in the glass. standing so that through a window she may see the moon in a glass she holds, she counts the number of reflections to find out how many pleasant things will happen to her in the next twelve months. alabama has taken over the scotch mirror test in its entirety. a girl with a looking-glass in her hand steps backward from the door out into the yard. saying: "round and round, o stars so fair! ye travel, and search out everywhere. i pray you, sweet stars, now show to me, this night, who my future husband shall be!" she goes to meet her fate. "so leslie backed out at the door, and we shut it upon her. the instant after, we heard a great laugh. off the piazza she had stepped backward directly against two gentlemen coming in. "doctor ingleside was one, coming to get his supper; the other was a friend of his.... 'doctor john hautayne,' he said, introducing him by his full name." whitney: _we girls._ a custom that is a reminder of the lighted boats sent down-stream in japan to bear away the souls of the dead, is that which makes use of nut-shell boats. these have tiny candles fastened in them, are lighted, and named, and set adrift on a tub of water. if they cling to the side, their namesakes will lead a quiet life. some will float together. some will collide and be shipwrecked. others will bear steadily toward a goal though the waves are rocked in a tempest. their behavior is significant. the candle which burns longest belongs to the one who will marry first. the midsummer wheel which was rolled down into the moselle river in france, and meant, if the flames that wreathed it were not extinguished, that the grape-harvest would be abundant, has survived in the fortune wheel which is rolled about from one guest to another, and brings a gift to each. the actions of cats on hallowe'en betoken good or bad luck. if a cat sits quietly beside any one, he will enjoy a peaceful, prosperous life; if one rubs against him, it brings good luck, doubly good if one jumps into his lap. if a cat yawns near you on hallowe'en, be alert and do not let opportunity slip by you. if a cat runs from you, you have a secret which will be revealed in seven days. different states have put interpretations of their own on the commonest charms. in massachusetts the one who first draws an apple from the tub with his teeth will be first married. if a girl steals a cabbage, she will see her future husband as she pulls it up, or meet him as she goes home. if these fail, she must put the cabbage over the door and watch to see whom it falls on, for him she is to marry. a button concealed in mashed potato brings misfortune to the finder. the names of three men are written on slips of paper, and enclosed in three balls of meal. the one that rises first when they are thrown into water will disclose the sought-for name. maine has borrowed the yarn-test from scotland. a ball is thrown into a barn or cellar, and wound off on the hand. the lover will come and help to wind. girls in new hampshire place in a row three dishes with earth, water, and a ring in them, respectively. the one who blindfolded touches earth will soon die; water, will never marry; the ring, will soon be wedded. to dream of the future on hallowe'en in pennsylvania, one must go out of the front door backward, pick up dust or grass, wrap it in paper, and put it under his pillow. in maryland girls see their future husbands by a rite similar to the scotch "wetting of the sark-sleeve." they put an egg to roast, and open wide all the doors and windows. the man they seek will come in and turn the egg. at supper girls stand behind the chairs, knowing that the ones they are to marry will come to sit in front of them. the south has always been famous for its hospitality and good times. on hallowe'en a miniature druid-fire burns in a bowl on the table. in the blazing alcohol are put fortunes wrapped in tin-foil, figs, orange-peel, raisins, almonds, and dates. the one who snatches the best will meet his sweetheart inside of a year, and all may try for a fortune from the flames. the origin of this custom was the taking of omens from the death-struggles of creatures burning in the fire of sacrifice. another southern custom is adapted from one of brittany. needles are named and floated in a dish of water. those which cling side by side are lovers. good fortune is in store for the one who wins an apple from the tub, or against whose glass a ring suspended by a hair strikes with a sharp chime. a very elaborate charm is tried in newfoundland. as the clock strikes midnight a girl puts the twenty-six letters of the alphabet, cut from paper, into a pure-white bowl which has been touched by the lips of a new-born babe only. after saying: "kind fortune, tell me where is he who my future lord shall be; from this bowl all that i claim is to know my sweetheart's name." she puts the bowl into a safe place until morning. then she is blindfolded and picks out the same number of letters as there are in her own name, and spells another from them. in new brunswick, instead of an apple, a hard-boiled egg without salt is eaten before a mirror, with the same result. in canada a thread is held over a lamp. the number that can be counted slowly before the thread parts, is the number of years before the one who counts will marry. in the united states a hair is thrown to the winds with the stanza chanted: "i pluck this lock of hair off my head to tell whence comes the one i shall wed. fly, silken hair, fly all the world around, until you reach the spot where my true love is found." the direction in which the hair floats is prophetic. the taste in hallowe'en festivities now is to study old traditions, and hold a scotch party, using burns's poem _hallowe'en_ as a guide; or to go a-souling as the english used. in short, no custom that was once honored at hallowe'en is out of fashion now. "cyniver" has been borrowed from wales, and the "dumb-cake" from the hebrides. in the scotch custom of cabbage-stalk pulling, if the stalk comes up easily, the husband or wife will be easy to win. the melted-lead test to show the occupation of the husband-to-be has been adopted in the united states. if the metal cools in round drops, the tester will never marry, or her husband will have no profession. white of egg is used in the same way. like the welsh test is that of filling the mouth with water, and walking round the house until one meets one's fate. an adaptation of the scottish "three luggies" is the row of four dishes holding dirt, water, a ring, and a rag. the dirt means divorce, the water, a trip across the ocean, the ring, marriage, the rag, no marriage at all. after the charms have been tried, fagots are passed about, and by the eerie light of burning salt and alcohol, ghost stories are told, each concluding his installment as his fagot withers into ashes. sometimes the cabbage stalks used in the omens take the place of fagots. to induce prophetic dreams salt, in quantities from a pinch to an egg full, is eaten before one goes to bed. "'miss jeanette, that's such a fine trick! you must swallow a salt herring in three bites, bones and all, and not drink a drop till the apparition of your future spouse comes in the night to offer you a drink of water.'" adams: _chrissie's fate._ if, after taking three doses of salt two minutes apart, a girl goes to bed backward, lies on her right side, and does not move till morning, she is sure to have eventful dreams. pills made of a hazelnut, a walnut, and nutmeg grated together and mixed with butter and sugar cause dreams: if of gold, the husband will be rich; if of noise, a tradesman; if of thunder and lightning, a traveler. as in ireland bay-leaves on or under a man's pillow cause him to dream of his sweetheart. also "turn your boots toward the street, leave your garters on your feet, put your stockings on your head, you'll dream of the one you're going to wed." lemon-peel carried all day and rubbed on the bed-posts at night will cause an apparition to bring the dreaming girl two lemons. for quiet sleep and the fulfilment of any wish eat before going to bed on hallowe'en a piece of dry bread. a far more interesting development of the hallowe'en idea than these innocent but colorless superstitions, is promised by the pageant at fort worth, texas, on october thirty-first, . in the masque and pageant of the afternoon four thousand school children took part. at night scenes from the pageant were staged on floats which passed along the streets. the subject was _preparedness for_ _peace_, and comprised scenes from american history in which peace played an honorable part. such were: the conference of william penn and the quakers with the indians, and the opening of the east to american trade. this is not a subject limited to performances at hallowtide. may there not be written and presented in america a truly hallowe'en pageant, illustrating and befitting its noble origin, and making its place secure among the holidays of the year? hallowe'en bring forth the raisins and the nuts-- to-night all-hallows' spectre struts along the moonlit way. no time is this for tear or sob, or other woes our joys to rob, but time for pippin and for bob, and jack-o'-lantern gay. come forth, ye lass and trousered kid, from prisoned mischief raise the lid, and lift it good and high. leave grave old wisdom in the lurch, set folly on a lofty perch, nor fear the awesome rod of birch when dawn illumes the sky. 'tis night for revel, set apart to reillume the darkened heart, and rout the hosts of dole. 'tis night when goblin, elf, and fay, come dancing in their best array to prank and royster on the way, and ease the troubled soul. the ghosts of all things, past parade, emerging from the mist and shade that hid them from our gaze, and full of song and ringing mirth, in one glad moment of rebirth, again they walk the ways of earth, as in the ancient days. the beacon light shines on the hill, the will-o'-wisps the forests fill with flashes filched from noon; and witches on their broomsticks spry speed here and yonder in the sky, and lift their strident voices high unto the hunter's moon. the air resounds with tuneful notes from myriads of straining throats, all hailing folly queen; so join the swelling choral throng, forget your sorrow and your wrong, in one glad hour of joyous song to honor hallowe'en. j. k. bangs _in harper's weekly, nov. , _. hallowe'en failure who's dat peekin' in de do'? set mah heart a-beatin'! thought i see' a spook for sho on mah way to meetin'. heerd a rustlin' all aroun', trees all sort o' jiggled; an' along de frosty groun' funny shadders wriggled. who's dat by de winder-sill? gittin' sort o' skeery; feets is feelin' kind o' chill, eyes is sort o' teary. 'most as nervous as a coon when de dawgs is barkin', er a widder when some spoon comes along a-sparkin'. whass dat creepin' up de road, quiet like a ferret, hoppin' sof'ly as a toad? maybe hit's a sperrit! lordy! hope dey ain't no ghos' come to tell me howdy. i ain't got no use for those fantoms damp an' cloudy. whass dat standin' by de fence wid its eyes a-yearnin', drivin' out mah common-sense wid its glances burnin'? don't dass skeercely go to bed wid dem spookses roun' me. ain't no res' fo' dis yere head when dem folks surroun' me. whass dat groanin' soun' i hear off dar by de gyardin? lordy! lordy! lordy dear, grant dis sinner pardon! i won't nebber--i declar' ef it ain't my sammy! sambo, what yo' doin' dar? yo' can't skeer yo' mammy! carlyle smith _in harper's weekly, oct. , _. hallowe'en pixie, kobold, elf, and sprite all are on their rounds to-night,-- in the wan moon's silver ray thrives their helter-skelter play. fond of cellar, barn, or stack true unto the almanac, they present to credulous eyes strange hobgoblin mysteries. cabbage-stumps--straws wet with dew-- apple-skins, and chestnuts too, and a mirror for some lass show what wonders come to pass. doors they move, and gates they hide mischiefs that on moonbeams ride are their deeds,--and, by their spells, love records its oracles. don't we all, of long ago by the ruddy fireplace glow, in the kitchen and the hall, those queer, coof-like pranks recall? eery shadows were they then-- but to-night they come again; were we once more but sixteen precious would be hallowe'en. joel benton _in harper's weekly, oct. , _. [illustration: no hallowe'en without a jack-o'-lantern.] hallowe'en a gypsy flame is on the hearth, sign of this carnival of mirth. through the dun fields and from the glade flash merry folk in masquerade-- it is the witching hallowe'en. pale tapers glimmer in the sky, the dead and dying leaves go by; dimly across the faded green strange shadows, stranger shades, are seen-- it is the mystic hallowe'en. soft gusts of love and memory beat at the heart reproachfully; the lights that burn for those who die were flickering low, let them flare high-- it is the haunting hallowe'en. a. f. murray _in harper's weekly, oct. , ._ magazine references to hallowe'en entertainments charades: charades, menu, tests. h. bazar, : . children's parties: fortune games for very little children. st. n., : . hallowe'en fortunes for boys and girls. delin., : . masquerade, games, tests. w. h. c., : . decorations. w. h. c., : . old-fashioned games. st. n., : . children's celebration of hallowe'en. st. n., : . church parties: mystic party. l. h. j., : . for young people's soc. l. h. j., : . "phantom fair." w. h. c., : . club parties: for country club. invitation. costumes. supper. dance. w. h. c., : . "candle-light café." w. h. c., . oct., . costumes: delin., : . country-house party: country life, : . dances: dances, drills, costumes. delin., : . hallowe'en party. w. h. c., : . barn party. w. h. c., : . decorations and favors: autumn-leaf decorations and prizes. delin., : . cobweb party. delin., : . hall: handicraft for handy girls. place-cards, verses. l. h. j., : . l. h. j., : . h. bazar, : . l. h. j., : . l. h. j., : . cinderella party. w. h. c., : . favors. h. bazar, : . nut favors. w. h. c., : . original decorations. w. h. c., : . fads and frills. w. h. c., : . games and fortunes: witchery games for hallowe'en. delin., : . h. bazar., : . l. h. j., : . l. h. j., : . blain: games for hallowe'en. quaint customs. h. bazar, : . h. bazar, : . witches' think cap. l. h. j., : . hallowe'en happenings. st. n., : . invitations: h. bazar, : . parties (miscellaneous): h. bazar, pt. : . h. bazar, : . l. h. j., : . l. h. j., : . nut-crack night party. h. bazar, : . nut-crack party. h. bazar, : . novel party. w. h. c., : . yarn party. l. h. j., : . l. h. j., : . l. h. j., : . barn party. w. h. c., : . novel party with musical accompaniment. musician, : . cotter's saturday night. w. h. c., : . "ghosts i have met" party. pantomime. w. h. c., : . two jolly affairs. w. h. c., : . tryst of witches. good h., : . tam o' shanter party. delin., : . jolly good time. delin., : . hints for hallowe'en hilarities. l. h. j., : . jolly party. l. h. j., : . hallowe'en fun. l. h. j., : . pumpkin stunt party. w. h. c., . oct., . character party. w. h. c., . oct., . school parties: "cotter's saturday night." w. h. c., : . high school party. w. h. c., : . how the college girl celebrates hallowe'en. w. h. c., : . suppers, table decorations, menus: hallowe'en suppers. h. bazar, : . h. bazar, : . l. h. j., : . l. h. j., : . w. h. c., : . w. h. c., : . h. bazar, : . h. bazar, : . hallowe'en party table. l. h. j., : . h. bazar, : . hallowe'en supper. good h., : . the pages refer always to the october number of the year. supplementary list of readings, recitations, and plays * * * * * title author source _all hallowe'en_ (story) all the year round, : _all souls' eve_ (story) hopper eng. illus. mag., : _all souls' eve_ (story) lyall temple bar., : _black cat_ (story) poe _boogah man_ dunbar eldridge entertainment house _brier-rose_ (story) grimm fairy tales _broomstick brigade_ j. t. wagner barclay st., n. y. city _bud's fairy tale_ (poem) riley child-world children's play with musical accompaniment musician, : _corn-song_ (poem) whittier _elder-tree mother_ (story) andersen fairy tales _fairies_ (poem) allingham _fairy and witch_ (play) nelson eldridge entertainment house _feast of the little lanterns_ (operetta) bliss _fisherman and the genie_ _arabian nights_ (story) _ghost_ (story) o'connor _ghosts i have met_ bangs _ghost's touch_ (story) collins _golden arm_ (story) clemens _how to tell a story_ _goblin stone_ (play) wickes child's book, p. _guess who_ (song and drill) murray eldridge entertainment house _hallowe'en adventure_ mcdonald canad. mag., : (story) _hallowe'en adventure_ koogle eldridge entertainment (play) house _hallowe'en frolic_ cone st. n. pt. : (poem) _haunted gale_ (play) wormwood eldridge entertainment house _house in the wood_ grimm fairy tales (story) _little butterkin_ asbjornsen _fairy tales from the (story) far north_ _little donna juana_ brooks (story) _mother goose recital_ musician, : _nix of the mill-pond_ grimm fairy tales (story) _peter pan in kensington_ barrie _gardens_ (story) _rapunzel_ (story) grimm fairy tales _red shoes_ (story) andersen fairy tales _scarecrows a-roaming_ eldridge entertainment (play) house _seein' things_ (poem) field love songs of childhood _snow-white_ (story) grimm fairy tales _straw phantom_ (pantomime) blackall st. n., : _testing of sir gawayne_ merington _festival plays_, (play) p. _voyage of bran_ meyer _walpurgisnight_ (story) zschokke _wind in the rose-bush_ freeman (story) index to quotations * * * * * title |author |page |source --------------------------------------------------------------------- _all-hallows honeymoon_ | | |new eng. magazine, (story) |marks | | : _all souls' eve_ (poem) |marks, j.p.| - | _ancient irish_ |o'curry | | _ballad of tam lin_ | | |child's ballads _battle of the trees_ |taliesin | |_neo-druidical heresy_ _caractacus_ (poem) |mason | | _celtic twilight_ (poem | | | in introduction to) |yeats | | _charms_ (poem) |opper | |munsey, : _comus_ (play) |milton | | _cuchulain of muirthemne_|gregory | - - | | | | _cuchulain's sick-bed_ | | | _death of the flowers_ |bryant | - | (poem) | | | _different party_ |bradley | - |harper's bazar, : (story) | | | _dinnsenchus of mag | | |_neo-druidical heresy_ slecht_ | | | _djinns_ (poem) |hugo | | _druid song of cathvah_ | | | (poem) |todhunter | | _expedition of nera_ | | | "fair maid who" | | |encyc. of superstitions _fairy-faith in celtic | | | countries_ |wentz | - | _fairy fiddler_ (poem) |hopper | | _fasti_ |ovid | | _faust_ (play) |goethe | | _first winter song_ | | | (poem) |graves | | "five hundred points" |tusser | | _giles corey of the salem| | | farms_ (play) |longfellow | - | _golden legend_ |de voragine| | _great fir-tree of | | | takasago_ (story) |rinder | |_old-world japan_ "green fairy island" |parry | |welsh melodies _hag_ (poem) |herrick | - | _hallowe'en_ (poem) |burns | - - | | | | _hallowe'en_ (poem) |coxe | - - | | | - - | | | | _hallowe'en_ (poem) |letts | - | _hallowe'en_ (poem) |sheard | |canadian mag., : _hallowe'en_ (poem) |bangs | - |harper's weekly, nov. | | | , _hallowe'en_ (poem) |benton | - |harper's weekly, oct. | | | , _hallowe'en_ (poem) |murray | |harper's weekly, oct. | | | , _hallowe'en failure_ |smith | |harper's weekly, oct. (poem) | | | , _hallowe'en or christie's|adams | |scribner's, : fate_ (story) | | | _hallowe'en in ireland_ |trant | |_dewdrops and diamonds_ _hallowe'en fantasy_ |pyle | |harper's bazar, , pt. (play), | | | : (priest and the piper)| | | _hallowe'en reformation_ |butterworth| - |century, : (story) | | | _hallowe'en wish_ (poem) |munkittrick| - |harper's weekly, oct. | | | , _hiawatha_ (poem) |longfellow | | _immortal hour_ (play) |sharp | - - |fortn. rev. : | | | _jorinda and joringel_ |grimm | |grimm's fairy tales (story) | | | _l'allegro_ (poem) |milton | | _land of heart's desire_ | | - - | (play) |yeats | - | _lavengro_ (story) |borrow | | _little orphant annie_ |riley | - | _loch garman_ |o'ciarain | | _lycidas_ (poem) |milton | | _macbeth_ (play) |shakspere | | _monastery_ (story) |scott | - - | | | - | _night of the dead_ |le braz | - |_legend of the dead_ "on nuts burning" |graydon | - | _on the morning of | | | christ's nativity_ | | | (poem) |milton | | _paradise lost_ (poem) |milton | | _passing of arthur_ |tennyson | | (poem) | | | _pastorals_ (poem) |gay | - - | | | - - | | | - - | | | | _peer gynt_ (play) |ibsen | | _peter and wendy_ (story)|barrie | | _polyolbion_ (poem) |drayton | | _pomona_ (poem) |morris | | _rip van winkle_ (play) |jefferson | - | _robin goodfellow_ (poem)|johnson | | _st. john's eve_ (poem) |kickham | | _st. john's fire_ (play) |sudermann | | _st. swithin's chair_ | | | (poem) |scott | | "soul, soul" | | |notes and queries _spell_ (poem) |gay | | _splores of a hallowe'en_| | | (poem) |dick | | _sunken bell_ (play) |hauptmann | | _tale of hallowe'en_ | | | (story) | | |leisure hour, : _tam glen_ (poem) |burns | | _tam o' shanter_ (poem) |burns | - | _tannhäuser_ (play) |wagner | - | _tempest_ (play) |shakspere | | _three-fold chronicle_ |sharp | - |harper's, : (story) | | | _tom's hallowe'en joke_ |wright | |_dewdrops and diamonds_ (story) | | | _twig of thorn_ (play) |warren | - | _vertumnus and pomona_ |ovid | | (poem) | | | _völuspa_ (poem) | | | _we girls_ (story) |whitney | - | "when comes the harvest" |botrel | |_songs of brittany_ _when de folks is gone_ |riley | | (poem) | | | "when ebery one" | | |werner's readings, | | | no. _wild huntsman_ (poem) |scott | | _willie baird_ (poem) |buchanan | | --------------------------------------------------------------------- index aberdeenshire, adder-stone, (serpent's-egg badge), , ailill, - , ale, , all hallows eve, , , , . see also hallowe'en all saints', , - , , , all souls', , - , - , , , , , , alphabet, , , - america, , anaxarete, angus, , - ankou, , apollo, , , apparitions. see ghosts apples, , , - , , - , , , - , - , , , , , - , , , , apple-island, apple-seeds, - , - arabs, ariel, armorica, arthur, king, , ash-tree, , , , ; berries of, ashes, , , , augury. see omens august, roman festival in, - august first, celtic festival of, augustus, avilion (avalon), - , ayrshire, baal, , - , baal-fire, baldur, - balmoral, barra, bats, , , bay-leaves, bean, bedivere, belgian, beltaine, , bells, , , , , , , , benevento, bergen, black, black sheep, , black sow, "black vespers," blindfolded seekers, , , , - , , blocksberg, , boats, , bochica, bonfires, , - , , , , , , - , - , ; to light through purgatory, , ; to protect from evil, , boniface, border, scottish, , , bretons, , - briar, briar-rose, bride, britain, - , , , , british isles, , , , brittany, - , , , brynhild, buchan, button, , cabbages, - , - , , , , , - cadwallo, king, caer, cæsar, - , cake, , , , - , , , , callcannon, canada, candlemas day, candles, , , , , , , - , , , , , , , cardiganshire, carnutes, cat, , , , , , , , catskill mts., _celtic twilight_, celts, classes of, ; beliefs, , , , , , , , - , , , ; characteristics of, , cemeteries, - , - , changelings, - , charms. see omens chartrain, cherokees, chinese, christ, - , , christian religion, , - , , , , , , , ; in britain, , ; in ireland, ; in brittany, ; in scandinavia, christmas, , , , church, - , - , , , , , , ; festivals, circle, claudius, cluny, coel coeth, coins, - , , colonies, columb kill. see st. colomba connaught, continent, , corn, ; -stalks, cornwall, , creed, crom croich (cruaich), - cross, sun-symbol, ; christian, , , , ; -roads, , , cruachan, , cuchulain, - , cuckoos, , - cyniver, , dagda, dahut, dance, , , , , , , - , , , , danann. see tuatha de danann danu, dathi, dead, - , , , - , - , , _et seq._; return, , , , - , , , ; disturbed by weeping, , death, , , ; lord of. see saman. samhain associated with, - , - ; prophesied, , , , , , , decoration of graves, , delphi, , derbyshire, deux-sèvres, devil, , , , , - , , , - , dew, , dietrich von bern, dishes, , , , , dispater, dissatisfied, - , - , , djinns, - doll, wax, dolmens, dorsetshire, dovrefeld, dragon, dreams, ; prophetic, , , , , drink, , druid, meaning, - ; draught, ; festivals, , , ; lamps, ; stone, ; stones, ; wand, ; -fire, , druids, - , , - , , , - , - , ; as priests, - ; powers of, , "drus," dumb-cake, , dwarfs, earth, , , edane, . see also etain edda, egg, , ; white of, - , ; -shells, egyptian beliefs, , eichstatt, elder, , elizabeth, queen, elm, elves, , , emer, england, , , , , , , , english, eochaidh, - episcopalians, eriskay, etain, - ethal, europe, , , , , excalibur, exorcism, , , fagots, , fairies, , , , , - , - , - , , , , , fand, - fates, , , feast, of dead, , ; of poor, feng-shin, feralia, fern, , finistère, , fir bolgs, fire, , , , - ; -god, ; spirits of, fires, , , - , , , , , . see also bonfires _flamina_, flour, , , , flowers, , fomor, , footprints, , , "forced-fire," fort worth, forts, fairy, , , france, , , , , , franks, "free-night," , freya, , , , , "furious host," future, questions about, , gabriel ratchets, gaul, - , , , germans, germany, , , , , ghosts, , , , - , , , , , , , . see also dead glass, - , , gnomes, goat, - , goblin, - , , , , gods of ireland. see tuatha de danann "good neighbors," "good people," , goths, grallon, great britain. see britain greek, , , , , , gregory, - guleesh, gunnar, hair, , , , - hallowe'en, - , , , , - , , - , , , , , , , , - , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ; pagan, , ; charms at, , , , ; born on, , _hallowe'en_, poem, , _hansel and grethel_, hares, hartz mts., harvest, - , , , , - , , , , , , , , hawthorn, , hazel, hearts, hebrides, hel, , hemp, , , , henry viii, henry hudson, herbs, - , , , , - herne the hunter, herodotus, hesperides, highlands, , , hodur, holda, - , holiday, hollow land, holly, hoop, horselberg, horseshoes, , horus, husking-bees, iceland, idun, immortality, , , , indians, , , invocation, , iona, iphis, ireland , , , , , , , - , , , - , - , , , , ; belief in fairies, , irish sea, iron, italy, , , ivy, jack-o'-lantern, - , , , japan, , jokes, jonah, juniper, , jupiter, kale. see cabbages kensington gardens, ker-is, kettle, , , key, , , , laeg, "lambswool," lammas, lancashire, land of heart's desire, land of youth, "lanterns of the dead," lanterns in japan, latin. see rome lead-melting, - , , leek, - legends, origin of, lemons, leprechauns, lewis, liban, lincolnshire, "little people," - , "livelong," loki, london, lords of misrule, love-knots, lucifer, "luck of edenhall," luggies. see dishes lugh, - lugnasad, , , _macbeth_, magic, , , ; black, , maine, malt, malta, man, isle of, , manitous, mars, martinmas, mary, virgin, , , , , mary avenel, maryland, massachusetts, master of the revels, may-bride, may eve and day, , - , , , , , , , , , _et seq._; -fires, , ; -pole, ; -ridings, ; -shooting, meal, , meath, , medb, , meg, "men of peace," mercury, , midir, - middle ages, midsummer, , , , , , , , milk, , , minerva, mirror, , , - , , - _miserere_, mistletoe, , , modred, mona, _monastery_, moon, , , , , , , moray, moytura, , , music, , - , - , , , , , myths, origin of, naples, needles, , , , , negroes, nera, , net, neverland, new brunswick, new hampshire, new year, , , . see also year's end new year's day, niflheim, nikko, norse, , , , norway, , , "nos galan gaeof," november, eve, , , , , , , , - , , , ; first, , , , - , , ; in rome, ; second, , , nuts, , , - , , - , - , , , , , - , oak, - , , , oats, , oatmeal cakes, obsession, october st, , , , , , , odin, , , , "oidhche shamhna," olaf, omens, , , , - , , , ; from sacrifices, , , , , ; evil, oonah, ops, ordeal, , - osiris, , ossian, - , ostia, otherworld, , , , , , , , , , , , ovid, , owls, , , paddy beg, - paddy more, - paganism, , , , , pageant, pantheon, paradise, partholon, parties, hallowe'en, peace, peas, , pelagius, pennsylvania, perthshire, peru, peter pan, - ph[oe]nicians, picts, piper, fairy, - , , pixies, , pomona, , - , , , pontypridd, _preparedness for peace_, procopius, prophets, druids as, , ; witches as, , , pumpkins, , purgatory, , , , puy de dome, "puzzling-jug," - races, , rapunzel, red mike, , rick, ring, - , , , , , , rip van winkle, rome, , - , , - ; relations to druids, ; all saints' in, roses, rowan. see ash-tree sacrifices, , , ; to baal, - , - , , ; omens from, ; to tyr, st. augustine, st. bridget, st. colomba, st. gertrude, st. john's day and eve, , , , , , st. kilda, st. michael, st. ninian, st. odilo, st. patrick, , , saga, salerno, salt, , , , , , , saman, , , , samhain (sáveen), , , - , , , - , , - , , , , , samhnagan, samhanach, sark. see shirt satan, , sauin. see samhain scandinavia, , , scotland, , , , , , , , , ; belief in fairies in, , - scots, seasons, seaweed, secrecy, , - , , ; in druid rites, - , seed-cake, seeds, , , serpent's-egg. see adder-stone seville, shee, shirt-sleeve, wetting the, , - , - , shoe, , shony, shropshire, "sid," , . see also forts sigurd, sîtou, sleep, , , , - sloe, , snakes. see adder-stone snap-apple. see apples sol, soul-cakes. see cake south, south uist, sowens, spain, , spectre huntsman, spirits, , , ; abroad, , , , , , ; evil, , , , , , , , staffordshire, stones, , - , , stories, , , , straw, , strunt, "summer's end," - , - , , , sun-god, - , , , , - , , - , , , ; -worship, ; -wise, , , , superstitions, , , , , - swans, - , swastika, sweden, , symbols, - , tam o' shanter, - , tannhäuser, - tara, , , , , _tempest_, teuton, , , teutonic, , thanksgiving, - ; for harvest, thimble, , , , thor, thorn, thread, , thuringia, tiberius, tigernmas, - "tin islands," tlactga, toads, toasts, todmorden, torches, , - , , tree-worship, - , , trefoil, , trinity, tripod, , , trolls, , , tuatha de danann, , , - , , - , - tub, , , , ; apples in. see apples tyr, united states, valhalla, - vali, valkyries, , vandals, venus, - vertumnus, - vortumnalia, vulcan, vurdh, wales, , , , , , , ; belief in fairies in, walnut-tree, walpurga, ward, hill of. see tara water, , , , wedding of sun and earth, , "weird sisters," wendy, wheel, sun-symbol, , , ; of fortune, white lady, wild huntsman, , will-o'-the-wisps, windsor forest, winnowing, - winter, first day of, , , , , witches, , - , - , , , , - , - , , witchcraft, , , , wood, , , wotan. see odin yarn, , , , , year's end, , - , yellow, yggdrasil, yorkshire, yule, , zschokke, transcriber's notes represented the "oe" ligature as [oe]. adjusted placement of footnotes. page : retained alternate spelling of "candelmas" in quoted material versus standard spelling in index. page : standardized punctuation. pages & : standardized index cross-reference words. page : standardized spelling of "sick-bed." page : standardized spelling of _völuspa_. note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see -h.htm or -h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h/ -h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h.zip) transcriber's note: in this text a character with macron is represented as [=x]. superscripted characters are enclosed by curly brackets and preceed by a caret character (example: ^{th}). [illustration: bringing in the yule log. _frontispiece._] christmas: _its origin and associations,_ together with its historical events and festive celebrations during nineteen centuries: depicting, by pen and pencil, memorable celebrations, stately meetings of early kings, remarkable events, romantic episodes, brave deeds, picturesque customs, time-honoured sports, royal christmases, coronations and royal marriages, chivalric feats, court banquetings and revellings, christmas at the colleges and the inns of court, popular festivities, and christmas-keeping in different parts of the world, derived from the most authentic sources, and arranged chronologically. by w. f. dawson. at home, at sea, in many distant lands, this kingly feast without a rival stands! london elliot stock, , paternoster row, e.c. . republished by gale research company, book tower, detroit, [illustration] preface. in the third quarter of the nineteenth century, it fell to my lot to write an article on christmas, its customs and festivities. and, although i sought in vain for a chronological account of the festival, i discovered many interesting details of its observances dispersed in the works of various authors; and, while i found that some of its greater celebrations marked important epochs in our national history, i saw, also, that the successive celebrations of christmas during nineteen centuries were important links in the chain of historical christian evidences. i became enamoured of the subject, for, in addition to historical interest, there is the charm of its legendary lore, its picturesque customs, and popular games. it seemed to me that the origin and hallowed associations of christmas, its ancient customs and festivities, and the important part it has played in history combine to make it a most fascinating subject. i resolved, therefore, to collect materials for a larger work on _christmas_. henceforth, i became a snapper-up of everything relating to christmastide, utilised every opportunity of searching libraries, bookstalls, and catalogues of books in different parts of the country, and, subsequently, as a reader of the british museum library, had access to that vast storehouse of literary and historical treasures. soon after commencing the work, i realised that i had entered a very spacious field of research, and that, having to deal with the accumulated materials of nineteen centuries, a large amount of labour would be involved, and some years must elapse before, even if circumstances proved favourable, i could hope to see the end of my task. still, i went on with the work, for i felt that a complete account of christmas, ancient and modern, at home and abroad, would prove generally acceptable, for while the historical events and legendary lore would interest students and antiquaries, the holiday sports and popular celebrations would be no less attractive to general readers. the love of story-telling seems to be ingrained in human nature. travellers tell of vari-coloured races sitting round their watch fires reciting deeds of the past; and letters from colonists show how, even amidst forest-clearing, they have beguiled their evening hours by telling or reading stories as they sat in the glow of their camp fires. and in old england there is the same love of tales and stories. one of the chief delights of christmastide is to sit in the united family circle and hear, tell, or read about the quaint habits and picturesque customs of christmas in the olden time; and one of the purposes of _christmas_ is to furnish the retailer of christmas wares with suitable things for re-filling his pack. from the vast store of materials collected it is not possible to do more than make a selection. how far i have succeeded in setting forth the subject in a way suited to the diversity of tastes among readers i must leave to their judgment and indulgence; but i have this satisfaction, that the gems of literature it contains are very rich indeed; and i acknowledge my great indebtedness to numerous writers of different periods whose references to christmas and its time-honoured customs are quoted. i have to acknowledge the courtesy of mr. henry jewitt, mr. e. wiseman, messrs. harper, and messrs. cassell & co., in allowing their illustrations to appear in this work. my aim is neither critical nor apologetic, but historical and pictorial: it is not to say what might or ought to have been, but to set forth from extant records what has actually taken place: to give an account of the origin and hallowed associations of christmas, and to depict, by pen and pencil, the important historical events and interesting festivities of christmastide during nineteen centuries. with materials collected from different parts of the world, and from writings both ancient and modern, i have endeavoured to give in the present work a chronological account of the celebrations and observances of christmas from the birth of christ to the end of the nineteenth century; but, in a few instances, the subject-matter has been allowed to take precedence of the chronological arrangement. here will be found accounts of primitive celebrations of the nativity, ecclesiastical decisions fixing the date of christmas, the connection of christmas with the festivals of the ancients, christmas in times of persecution, early celebrations in britain, stately christmas meetings of the saxon, danish, and norman kings of england; christmas during the wars of the roses, royal christmases under the tudors, the stuarts and the kings and queens of modern england; christmas at the colleges and the inns of court; entertainments of the nobility and gentry, and popular festivities; accounts of christmas celebrations in different parts of europe, in america and canada, in the sultry lands of africa and the ice-bound arctic coasts, in india and china, at the antipodes, in australia and new zealand, and in the islands of the pacific; in short, throughout the civilised world. in looking at the celebrations of christmas, at different periods and in different places, i have observed that, whatever views men hold respecting christ, they all agree that his advent is to be hailed with joy, and the nearer the forms of festivity have approximated to the teaching of him who is celebrated the more real has been the joy of those who have taken part in the celebrations. the descriptions of the festivities and customs of different periods are given, as far as possible, on the authority of contemporary authors, or writers who have special knowledge of those periods, and the most reliable authorities have been consulted for facts and dates, great care being taken to make the work as accurate and trustworthy as possible. i sincerely wish that all who read it may find as much pleasure in its perusal as i have had in its compilation. william francis dawson. [illustration] [illustration: contents] chapter i. page the origin and associations of christmas chapter ii. the earlier celebrations of the festival chapter iii. early christmas celebrations in britain chapter iv. christmas, from the norman conquest to magna charta (a.d. - .) chapter v. christmas, from magna charta to the end of the wars of the roses (a.d. - .) chapter vi. christmas under henry vii. and henry viii. (a.d. - .) chapter vii. christmas under edward vi., mary, and elizabeth (a.d. - .) chapter viii. christmas under james i. (a.d. - .) chapter ix. christmas under charles the first and the commonwealth (a.d. - .) chapter x. christmas, from the restoration to the death of george ii. (a.d. - .) chapter xi. modern christmases at home chapter xii. modern christmases abroad chapter xiii. concluding carol service of the nineteenth century index [illustration] [illustration] list of illustrations. page bringing in the yule log _frontispiece_ the herald angels virgin and child joseph taking mary to be taxed, and the nativity events the nativity (_central portion of picture in national gallery_) virgin and child (_relievo_) group from the angels' serenade adoration of the magi (_from pulpit of pisa_) "the inns are full" grape gathering and the vintage (_mosaic in the church of st. constantine, rome, a.d. _) german ninth century picture of the nativity ancient roman illustrations ancient roman illustrations ancient agape ancient roman illustrations early celebrations in britain queen bertha an ancient fireplace traveling in the olden time, with a "christmas fool" on the front seat" the wild boar hunt: killing the boar adoration of the magi (_picture of stained glass, winchester cathedral_) a king at dinner blind minstrel at a feast minstrels' christmas serenade at an old baronial hall westminster hall strange old stories illustrated (_from harl. ms._) a cook of the period (_early norman_) monk undergoing discipline wassailing at christmastide panoply of a crusader royal party dining in state ladies looking from the hustings upon the tournament the lord of misrule curious cuts of priestly players in the olden time a court fool virgin and child (_florentine, . south kensington museum_) henry vi.'s cradle lady musician of the fifteenth century rustic christmas minstrel with pipe and tabor martin luther and the christmas tree the little orleans madonna of raphael magdalen college, oxford bringing in the boar's head with minstrelsy virgin and child, chirbury, shropshire riding a-mumming at christmastide a dumb show in the time of elizabeth the fool of the old play (_from a print by breughel_) the acting of one of shakespeare's plays in the time of queen elizabeth neighbours with pipe and tabor christmas in the hall the hobby-horse servants' christmas feast "the hackin" seafaring pilgrims an ancient fireplace a druid priestess bearing mistletoe a nest of fools "the mask dance" the christmas mummers the waits the christmas plum-pudding italian minstrels in london, at christmas, snap dragon blindman's buff the christmas dance the giving away of christmas doles poor children's treat in modern times the christmas bells wassailing the apple-trees in devonshire modern christmas performers: yorkshire sword-actors modern christmas characters: "st peter," "st. denys" a scotch first footing provençal plays at christmastide nativity picture (_from byzantine ivory in the british museum_) calabrian shepherds playing in rome at christmas worshipping the child jesus (_from a picture in the museum at naples_) angels and men worshipping the child jesus (_from a picture in seville cathedral_) simeon received the child jesus into his arms (_from modern stained glass in bishopsgate church, london_) lichfield cathedral [illustration] [illustration: while shepherds watched their flocks by night, all seated on the ground; the angel of the lord came down, and glory shone around. _carol._] the herald angels. lo! god hath ope'd the glist'ring gates of heaven, and thence are streaming beams of glorious light: all earth is bath'd in the effulgence giv'n to dissipate the darkness of the night. the eastern shepherds, 'biding in the fields, o'erlook the flocks till now their constant care, and light divine to mortal sense reveals a seraph bright descending in the air. hark! strains seraphic fall upon the ear, from shining ones around th' eternal gates: glad that man's load of guilt may disappear, infinite strength on finite weakness waits. why are the trembling shepherds sore afraid? why shrink they at the grand, the heavenly sight? "fear not" (the angel says), nor be dismay'd, and o'er them sheds a ray of god-sent light. o matchless mercy! all-embracing love! the angel speaks and, gladly, men record:-- "i bring you joyful tidings from above: this day is born a saviour, christ the lord!" hark! "peace on earth, and god's good-will to men!" the angels sing, and heaven resounds with praise-- that fallen man may live with god again, through christ, who deigns the sons of men to raise. w. f. d _chapter i._ the origin and associations of christmas. the first christmas: the advent of christ. behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name immanuel. (_isaiah_ vii. .) [illustration] now the birth of jesus christ was on this wise: when his mother mary had been betrothed to joseph, before they came together she was found with child of the holy ghost. and joseph her husband, being a righteous man, and not willing to make her a public example, was minded to put her away privily. but when he thought on these things, behold, an angel of the lord appeared unto him in a dream, saying, joseph, thou son of david, fear not to take unto thee mary thy wife: for that which is conceived in her is of the holy ghost. and she shall bring forth a son; and thou shalt call his name jesus; for it is he that shall save his people from their sins. now all this is come to pass, that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the lord through the prophet, saying, behold, the virgin shall be with child and shall bring forth a son, and they shall call his name immanuel; which is, being interpreted, god with us. and joseph arose from his sleep, and did as the angel of the lord commanded him, and took unto him his wife; and knew her not till she had brought forth a son; and he called his name jesus. (_matthew_ i. - .) [illustration: "there went out a decree from cæsar augustus that all the world should be taxed. and joseph went to be taxed with mary his espoused wife, being great with child." (_luke_ ii. - .)] and there were shepherds in the same country abiding in the field, and keeping watch by night over their flock. and an angel of the lord stood by them, and the glory of the lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. and the angel said unto them, be not afraid; for behold, i bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all the people: for there is born to you this day in the city of david a saviour, which is christ the lord. and this is the sign unto you; ye shall find a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, and lying in a manger. and suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising god, and saying, glory to god in the highest, and on earth peace among men in whom he is well pleased. and it came to pass, when the angels went away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, let us now go even unto bethlehem, and see this thing that is come to pass, which the lord hath made known unto us. and they came with haste, and found both mary and joseph, and the babe lying in the manger. and when they saw it, they made known concerning the saying which was spoken to them about this child. and all that heard it wondered at the things which were spoken unto them by the shepherds. but mary kept all these sayings, pondering them in her heart. and the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising god for all the things that they had heard and seen, even as it was spoken unto them. (_luke_ ii. - .) the place of the nativity. the evangelist matthew tells us that "jesus was born in bethlehem of judæa in the days of herod the king;" and justin martyr, who was born at shechem and lived less than a century after the time of christ, places the scene of the nativity in a cave. over this cave has risen the church and convent of the nativity, and there is a stone slab with a star cut in it to mark the spot where the saviour was born. dean farrar, who has been at the place, says: "it is impossible to stand in the little chapel of the nativity, and to look without emotion on the silver star let into the white marble, encircled by its sixteen everburning lamps, and surrounded by the inscription, '_hic de virgine maria jesus christus natus est_.'" to visit such a scene is to have the thoughts carried back to the greatest event in the world's history, for it has been truly said that the birth of christ was the world's second birthday. now, death is life! and grief is turn'd to joy! since glory shone on that auspicious morn, when god incarnate came, not to destroy, but man to save and manhood's state adorn! w. f. d. [illustration: the nativity by sandro botticelli centre portion of picture in national gallery] the word "christmas": its orthography and meaning. "christmas" (pronounced kris'mas) signifies "christ's mass," meaning the festival of the nativity of christ, and the word has been variously spelt at different periods. the following are obsolete forms of it found in old english writings: crystmasse, cristmes, cristmas, crestenmes, crestenmas, cristemes, cristynmes, crismas, kyrsomas, xtemas, cristesmesse, cristemasse, crystenmas, crystynmas, chrystmas, chrystemes, chrystemasse, chrystymesse, cristenmas, christenmas, christmass, christmes. christmas has also been called _noël_ or _nowel_. as to the derivation of the word _noël_, some say it is a contraction of the french _nouvelles_ (tidings), _les bonnes nouvelles_, that is "the good news of the gospel"; others take it as an abbreviation of the gascon or provençal _nadaü_, _nadal_, which means the same as the latin _natalis_, that is, _dies natalis_, "the birthday." in "the franklin's tale," chaucer alludes to "nowel" as a festive cry at christmastide: "and 'nowel' crieth every lusty man." some say _noël_ is a corruption of _yule_, _jule_, or _ule_, meaning "the festival of the sun." the name _yule_ is still applied to the festival in scotland, and some other places. christmas is represented in welsh by _nadolig_, which signifies "the natal, or birth"; in french by _noël_; and in italian by _il natale_, which, together with its cognate term in spanish, is simply a contraction of _dies natalis_, "the birthday." christmas: blest feast of the nativity! h eaven made thy lowly shrine r esplendent with the gift of the eternal deity i n whom we live and move, whose large benignity s pared not his son divine: t hat well-beloved son by god was given, m ankind to save with his redeeming blood; a nd jesus freely left the bliss of heaven, s uffering death, to achieve our lasting good.--w. f. d. [illustration] _chapter ii_. the earlier celebrations of the festival. the earlier celebrations. [illustration: group from the angels' serenade theodore mintrop] the angels' song has been called the first christmas carol, and the shepherds who heard this heavenly song of peace and goodwill, and went "with haste" to the birthplace at bethlehem, where they "found mary, and joseph, and the babe lying in a manger," certainly took part in the first celebration of the nativity. and the wise men, who came afterwards with presents from the east, being led to bethlehem by the appearance of the miraculous star, may also be regarded as taking part in the first celebration of the nativity, for the name epiphany (now used to commemorate the manifestation of the saviour) did not come into use till long afterwards, and when it was first adopted among the oriental churches it was designed to commemorate both the birth and baptism of jesus, which two events the eastern churches believed to have occurred on january th. whether the shepherds commemorated the feast of the nativity annually does not appear from the records of the evangelists; but it is by no means improbable that to the end of their lives they would annually celebrate the most wonderful event which they had witnessed. [illustration: adoration of the magi (relievo.) from pulpit of pisa nicola: pisano] within thirty years after the death of our lord, there were churches in jerusalem, cæsarea, rome, and the syrian antioch. in reference to the latter, bishop ken beautifully says:-- "fair antioch the rich, the great, of learning the imperial seat, you readily inclined, to light which on you shined; it soon shot up to a meridian flame, you first baptized it with a christian name." clement, one of the apostolic fathers and third bishop of rome, who flourished in the first century, says: "brethren, keep diligently feast-days, and truly in the first place the day of christ's birth." and according to another of the early bishops of rome, it was ordained early in the second century, "that in the holy night of the nativity of our lord and saviour, they do celebrate public church services and in them solemnly sing the angels' hymn, because also the same night he was declared unto the shepherds by an angel, as the truth itself doth witness." but, before proceeding further with the historical narrative, it will be well now to make more particular reference to the fixing of the date of the festival. fixing the date of christmas. whether the th of december, which is now observed as christmas day, correctly fixes the period of the year when christ was born is still doubtful, although it is a question upon which there has been much controversy. from clement of alexandria it appears, that when the first efforts were made to fix the season of the advent, there were advocates for the th of may, and for the th or st of april. it is also found that some communities of christians celebrated the festival on the st or th of january; others on the th of march, the time of the jewish passover: while others observed it on the th of september, or feast of tabernacles. the oriental christians generally were of opinion that both the birth and baptism of christ took place on the th of january. julius i., bishop of rome (a.d. - ), contended that the th of december was the date of christ's birth, a view to which the majority of the eastern church ultimately came round, while the church of the west adopted from their brethren in the east the view that the baptism was on the th of january. it is, at any rate, certain that after st. chrysostom christmas was observed on the th of december in east and west alike, except in the armenian church, which still remains faithful to january th. st. chrysostom, who died in the beginning of the fifth century, informs us, in one of his epistles, that julius, on the solicitation of st. cyril of jerusalem, caused strict inquiries to be made on the subject, and thereafter, following what seemed to be the best authenticated tradition, settled authoritatively the th of december as the anniversary of christ's birth, the _festorum omnium metropolis_, as it is styled by chrysostom. it may be observed, however, that some have represented this fixing of the day to have been accomplished by st. telesphorus, who was bishop of rome a.d. - , but the authority for the assertion is very doubtful. there is good ground for maintaining that easter and its accessory celebrations mark with tolerable accuracy the anniversaries of the passion and resurrection of our lord, because we know that the events themselves took place at the period of the jewish passover; but no such precision of date can be adduced as regards christmas. dr. geikie[ ] says: "the _season_ at which christ was born is inferred from the fact that he was six months younger than john, respecting the date of whose birth we have the help of knowing the time of the annunciation during his father's ministrations in jerusalem. still, the whole subject is very uncertain. ewald appears to fix the date of the birth as five years earlier than our era. petavius and usher fix it as on the th of december, five years before our era; bengel, on the th of december, four years before our era; anger and winer, four years before our era, in the spring; scaliger, three years before our era, in october; st. jerome, three years before our era, on december th; eusebius, two years before our era, on january th; and ideler, seven years before our era, in december." milton, following the immemorial tradition of the church, says that-- "it was the winter wild." but there are still many who think that the th of december does not correspond with the actual date of the birth of christ, and regard the incident of the flocks and shepherds in the open field, recorded by st. luke, as indicative of spring rather than winter. this incident, it is thought, could not have taken place in the inclement month of december, and it has been conjectured, with some probability, that the th of december was chosen in order to substitute the purified joy of a christian festival for the license of the _bacchanalia_ and _saturnalia_ which were kept at that season. it is most probable that the advent took place between december, , of rome, and february, . dionysius exiguus, surnamed the little, a romish monk of the sixth century, a scythian by birth, and who died a.d. , fixed the birth of christ in the year of rome , but the best authorities are now agreed that was not the year in which the saviour of mankind was born. the nativity is now placed, not as might have been expected, in a.d. , but in b.c. or . the mode of reckoning by the "year of our lord" was first introduced by dionysius, in his "cyclus paschalis," a treatise on the computation of easter, in the first half of the sixth century. up to that time the received computation of events through the western portion of christendom had been from the supposed foundation of rome (b.c. ), and events were marked accordingly as happening in this or that year, _anno urbis conditæ_, or by the initial letters a.u.c. in the east some historians continued to reckon from the era of seleucidæ, which dated from the accession of seleucus nicator to the monarchy of syria, in b.c. . the new computation was received by christendom in the sixth century, and adopted without adequate inquiry, till the sixteenth century. a more careful examination of the data presented by the gospel history, and, in particular, by the fact that "jesus was born in bethlehem of judæa" before the death of herod, showed that dionysius had made a mistake of four years, or perhaps more, in his calculations. the death of herod took place in the year of rome a.u.c. , just before the passover. this year coincided with what in our common chronology would be b.c. --so that we have to recognise the fact that our own reckoning is erroneous, and to fix b.c. or as the date of the nativity. [illustration: "the inns are full."] now, out of the consideration of the time at which the christmas festival is fixed, naturally arises another question, viz.:-- the connection of christmas with ancient festivals. sir isaac newton[ ] says the feast of the nativity, and most of the other ecclesiastical anniversaries, were originally fixed at cardinal points of the year, without any reference to the dates of the incidents which they commemorated, dates which, by lapse of time, it was impossible to ascertain. thus the annunciation of the virgin mary was placed on the th of march, or about the time of the vernal equinox; the feast of st. michael on the th of september, or near the autumnal equinox; and the birth of christ at the time of the winter solstice. christmas was thus fixed at the time of the year when the most celebrated festivals of the ancients were held in honour of the return of the sun which at the winter solstice begins gradually to regain power and to ascend apparently in the horizon. previously to this (says william sandys, f.s.a.),[ ] the year was drawing to a close, and the world was typically considered to be in the same state. the promised restoration of light and commencement of a new era were therefore hailed with rejoicings and thanksgivings. the saxon and other northern nations kept a festival at this time of the year in honour of thor, in which they mingled feasting, drinking, and dancing with sacrifices and religious rites. it was called yule, or jule, a term of which the derivation has caused dispute amongst antiquaries; some considering it to mean a festival, and others stating that iol, or iul (spelt in various ways), is a primitive word, conveying the idea of revolution or wheel, and applicable therefore to the return of the sun. the _bacchanalia_ and _saturnalia_ of the romans had apparently the same object as the yuletide, or feast of the northern nations, and were probably adopted from some more ancient nations, as the greeks, mexicans, persians, chinese, &c., had all something similar. in the course of them, as is well known, masters and slaves were supposed to be on an equality; indeed, the former waited on the latter.[ ] presents were mutually given and received, as christmas presents in these days. towards the end of the feast, when the sun was on its return, and the world was considered to be renovated, a king or ruler was chosen, with considerable power granted to him during his ephemeral reign, whence may have sprung some of the twelfth-night revels, mingled with those in honour of the manifestation and adoration of the magi. and, in all probability, some other christmas customs are adopted from the festivals of the ancients, as decking with evergreens and mistletoe (relics of druidism) and the wassail bowl. it is not surprising, therefore, that bacchanalian illustrations have been found among the decorations in the early christian churches. the illustration on the following page is from a mosaic in the church of st. constantine, rome, a.d. . [illustration: grape gathering and the vintage. mosaic in the church of st. constantine, rome, a.d. .] [illustration: from an ivory (part of book cover) german ninth century british museum] dr. cassel, of germany, an erudite jewish convert who is little known in this country, has endeavoured to show that the festival of christmas has a judæan origin. he considers that its customs are significantly in accordance with those of the jewish festival of the dedication of the temple. this feast was held in the winter time, on the th of cisleu (december th), having been founded by judas maccabæus in honour of the cleansing of the temple in b.c. , six years and a half after its profanation by antiochus epiphanes. in connection with dr. cassel's theory it may be remarked that the german word _weihnachten_ (from _weihen_, "to consecrate, inaugurate," and _nacht_, "night") leads directly to the meaning, "night of the dedication." [illustration: ancient roman illustrations.] in proceeding with our historical survey, then, we must recollect that in the festivities of christmastide there is a mingling of the divine with the human elements of society--the establishment and development of a christian festival on pagan soil and in the midst of superstitious surroundings. unless this be borne in mind it is impossible to understand some customs connected with the celebration of christmas. for while the festival commemorates the nativity of christ, it also illustrates the ancient practices of the various peoples who have taken part in the commemoration, and not inappropriately so, as the event commemorated is also linked to the past. "christmas" (says dean stanley) "brings before us the relations of the christian religion to the religions which went before; for the birth at bethlehem was itself a link with the past. the coming of jesus christ was not unheralded or unforeseen. even in the heathen world there had been anticipations of an event of a character not unlike this. in plato's dialogue bright ideals had been drawn of the just man; in virgil's eclogues there had been a vision of a new and peaceful order of things. but it was in the jewish nation that these anticipations were most distinct. that wonderful people in all its history had looked, not backward, but forward. the appearance of jesus christ was not merely the accomplishment of certain predictions; it was the fulfilment of this wide and deep expectation of a whole people, and that people the most remarkable in the ancient world." thus dean stanley links christianity with the older religions of the world, as other writers have connected the festival of christmas with the festivals of paganism and judaism. the first christians were exposed to the dissolute habits and idolatrous practices of heathenism, as well as the superstitious ceremonials of judaism, and it is in these influences that we must seek the true origin of many of the usages and institutions of christianity. the old hall of roman justice and exchange--an edifice expressive of the popular life of greece and rome--was not deemed too secular to be used as the first christian place of worship: pagan statues were preserved as objects of adoration, being changed but in name; names describing the functions of church officers were copied from the civil vocabulary of the time; the ceremonies of christian worship were accommodated as far as possible to those of the heathen, that new converts might not be much startled at the change, and at the christmas festival christians indulged in revels closely resembling those of the _saturnalia_. [illustration: ancient roman illustrations.] christmas in times of persecution. it is known that the feast of the nativity was observed as early as the first century, and that it was kept by the primitive christians even in dark days of persecution. "they wandered in deserts, and in mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth" (heb. xi. ). yet they were faithful to christ, and the catacombs of rome contain evidence that they celebrated the nativity. the opening up of these catacombs has brought to light many most interesting relics of primitive christianity. in these christian cemeteries and places of worship there are signs not only of the deep emotion and hope with which they buried their dead, but also of their simple forms of worship and the festive joy with which they commemorated the nativity of christ. on the rock-hewn tombs these primitive christians wrote the thoughts that were most consoling to themselves, or painted on the walls the figures which gave them the most pleasure. the subjects of these paintings are for the most part taken from the bible, and the one which illustrates the earliest and most universal of these pictures, and exhibits their christmas joy, is "the adoration of the magi." another of these emblems of joyous festivity which is frequently seen, is a vine, with its branches and purple clusters spreading in every direction, reminding us that in eastern countries the vintage is the great holiday of the year. in the jewish church there was no festival so joyous as the feast of tabernacles, when they gathered the fruit of the vineyard, and in some of the earlier celebrations of the nativity these festivities were closely copied. and as all down the ages pagan elements have mingled in the festivities of christmas, so in the catacombs they are not absent. there is orpheus playing on his harp to the beasts; bacchus as the god of the vintage; psyche, the butterfly of the soul; the jordan as the god of the rivers. the classical and the christian, the hebrew and the hellenic elements had not yet parted; and the unearthing of these pictures after the lapse of centuries affords another interesting clue to the origin of some of the customs of christmastide. it is astonishing how many of the catacomb decorations are taken from heathen sources and copied from heathen paintings; yet we need not wonder when we reflect that the vine was used by the early christians as an emblem of gladness, and it was scarcely possible for them to celebrate the feast of the nativity--a festival of glad tidings--without some sort of _bacchanalia_. thus it appears that even beneath the palaces and temples of pagan rome the birth of christ was celebrated, this early undermining of paganism by christianity being, as it were, the germ of the final victory, and the secret praise, which came like muffled music from the catacombs in honour of the nativity, the prelude to the triumph-song in which they shall unite who receive from christ the unwithering crown. [illustration: ancient agape. (_from withrow's_ "_catacombs of rome_," which states that the inscriptions, according to dr. maitland, should be expanded thus irene da calda[m aqvam]--"peace, give hot water," and agape misce mi [vinvm cvm aqva]--"love, mix me wine with water," the allusion being to the ancient custom of tempering wine with water, hot or cold)] [illustration] but they who would wear the crown must first bear the cross, and these early christians had to pass through dreadful days of persecution. some of them were made food for the torches of the atrocious nero, others were thrown into the imperial fish-ponds to fatten lampreys for the bacchanalian banquets, and many were mangled to death by savage beasts, or still more savage men, to make sport for thousands of pitiless sightseers, while not a single thumb was turned to make the sign of mercy. but perhaps the most gigantic and horrible of all christmas atrocities were those perpetrated by the tyrant diocletian, who became emperor a.d. . the early years of his reign were characterised by some sort of religious toleration, but when his persecutions began many endured martyrdom, and the storm of his fury burst on the christians in the year . a multitude of christians of all ages had assembled to commemorate the nativity in the temple at nicomedia, in bithynia, when the tyrant emperor had the town surrounded by soldiers and set on fire, and about twenty thousand persons perished. the persecutions were carried on throughout the roman empire, and the death-roll included some british martyrs, britain being at that time a roman province. st. alban, who was put to death at verulam in diocletian's reign, is said to have been the first christian martyr in britain. on the retirement of diocletian, satiated with slaughter and wearied with wickedness, galerius continued the persecutions for a while. but the time of deliverance was at hand, for the martyrs had made more converts in their deaths than in their lives. it was vainly hoped that christianity would be destroyed, but in the succeeding reign of constantine it became the religion of the empire. not one of the martyrs had died in vain or passed through death unrecorded. [illustration] "there is a record traced on high, that shall endure eternally; the angel standing by god's throne treasures there each word and groan; and not the martyr's speech alone, but every word is there depicted, with every circumstance of pain the crimson stream, the gash inflicted-- and not a drop is shed in vain." celebrations under constantine the great. with the accession of constantine (born at york, february , , son of the sub-emperor constantius by a british mother, the "fair helena of york," and who, on the death of his father at york in , was in britain proclaimed emperor of the roman empire) brighter days came to the christians, for his first act was one of favour to them. he had been present at the promulgation of diocletian's edict of the last and fiercest of the persecutions against the christians, in , at nicomedia, soon after which the imperial palace was struck by lightning, and the conjunction of the events seems to have deeply impressed him. no sooner had he ascended the throne than his good feeling towards the christians took the active form of an edict of toleration, and subsequently he accepted christianity, and his example was followed by the greater part of his family. and now the christians, who had formerly hidden away in the darkness of the catacombs and encouraged one another with "alleluias," which served as a sort of invitatory or mutual call to each other to praise the lord, might come forth into the imperial sunshine and hold their services in basilicas or public halls, the roofs of which (jerome tells us) "re-echoed with their cries of alleluia," while ambrose says the sound of their psalms as they sang in celebration of the nativity "was like the surging of the sea in great waves of sound." and the catacombs contain confirmatory evidence of the joy with which relatives of the emperor participated in christian festivities. in the tomb of constantia, the sister of the emperor constantine, the only decorations are children gathering the vintage, plucking the grapes, carrying baskets of grapes on their heads, dancing on the grapes to press out the wine. this primitive conception of the founder of christianity shows the faith of these early christians to have been of a joyous and festive character, and the graduals for christmas eve and christmas morning, the beautiful kyrie eleisons (which in later times passed into carols), and the other festival music which has come down to us through that wonderful compilation of christian song, _gregory's antiphonary_, show that christmas stood out prominently in the celebrations of the now established church, for the emperor constantine had transferred the seat of government to constantinople, and christianity was formally recognised as the established religion. episcopal references to christmas and cautions against excesses. cyprian, the intrepid bishop of carthage, whose stormy episcopate closed with the crown of martyrdom in the latter half of the third century, began his treatise on the nativity thus: "the much wished-for and long expected nativity of christ is come, the famous solemnity is come"--expressions which indicate the desire with which the church looked forward to the festival, and the fame which its celebrations had acquired in the popular mind. and in later times, after the fulness of festivity at christmas had resulted in some excesses, bishop gregory nazianzen (who died in ), fearing the spiritual thanksgiving was in danger of being subordinated to the temporal rejoicing, cautioned all christians "against feasting to excess, dancing, and crowning the doors (practices derived from the heathens); urging the celebration of the festival after an heavenly and not an earthly manner." in the council, generally called _concilium africanum_, held a.d. , "stage-playes and spectacles are forbidden on the lord's-day, christmas-day, and other solemn christian festivalls." theodosius the younger, in his laws _de spectaculis_, in , forbade shows or games on the nativity, and some other feasts. and in the council of auxerre, in burgundy, in , disguisings are again forbidden, and at another council, in , it was found necessary to repeat the prohibitory canons in stronger terms, declaring it to be unlawful to make any indecent plays upon the kalends of january, according to the profane practices of the pagans. but it is also recorded that the more devout christians in these early times celebrated the festival without indulging in the forbidden excesses. [ ] notes to "life of christ." [ ] "commentary on the prophecies of daniel." [ ] introduction to "christmas carols," . [ ] the emperor nero himself is known to have presided at the _saturnalia_, having been made by lot the _rex bibendi_, or master of the revels. indeed it was at one of these festivals that he instigated the murder of the young prince britannicus, the last male descendant of the family of the claudii, who had been expelled from his rights by violence and crime; and the atrocious act was committed amid the revels over which nero was presiding as master. _chapter iii._ early christmas celebrations in britain. [illustration] early celebrations in britain. it is recorded that there were "saints in cæsar's household," and we have also the best authority for saying there were converts among roman soldiers. cornelius, a roman centurion, "was a just man and one that feared god," and other roman converts are referred to in scripture as having been found among the officers of the roman empire. and although it is not known who first preached the gospel in britain, it seems almost certain that christianity entered with the roman invasion in a.d. . as in palestine some of the earlier converts served christ secretly "for fear of the jews," so, in all probability, did they in britain for fear of the romans. we know that some confessed christ and closed their earthly career with the crown of martyrdom. it is also certain that very early in the christian era christmas was celebrated in britain, mingling in its festivities some of the winter-festival customs of the ancient britons and the roman invaders, for traces of those celebrations are still seen in some of the christmas customs of modern times. moreover, it is known that christians were tolerated in britain by some of the roman governors before the days of constantine. it was in the time of the fourth roman emperor, claudius, that part of britain was first really conquered. claudius himself came over in the year , and his generals afterwards went on with the war, conquering one after another of the british chiefs, caradoc, whom the romans called caractacus, holding out the longest and the most bravely. this intrepid king of the silurians, who lived in south wales and the neighbouring parts, withstood the romans for several years, but was at last defeated at a great battle, supposed to have taken place in shropshire, where there is a hill still called caer caradoc. caradoc and his family were taken prisoners and led before the emperor at rome, when he made a remarkable speech which has been preserved for us by tacitus. when he saw the splendid city of rome, he wondered that an emperor who lived in such splendour should have meddled with his humble home in britain; and in his address before the emperor claudius, who received him seated on his throne with the empress agrippina by his side, caradoc said: "my fate this day appears as sad for me as it is glorious for thee. i had horses, soldiers, arms, and treasures; is it surprising that i should regret the loss of them? if it is thy will to command the universe, is it a reason we should voluntarily accept slavery? had i yielded sooner, thy fortune and my glory would have been less, and oblivion would soon have followed my execution. if thou sparest my life, i shall be an eternal monument of thy clemency." although the romans had very often killed their captives, to the honour of claudius be it said that he treated caradoc kindly, gave him his liberty, and, according to some historians, allowed him to reign in part of britain as a prince subject to rome. it is surprising that an emperor who had shown such clemency could afterwards become one of rome's sanguinary tyrants; but claudius was a man of weak intellect. there were several of the roman emperors and governors who befriended the christians, took part in their christmas festivities, and professed faith in christ. the venerable bede says: "in the reign of marcus aurelius antonius, and his partner in the empire, lucius verus, when eleutherius was bishop of rome, lucius, a british king, sent a letter to his prelate, desiring his directions to make him a christian. the holy bishop immediately complied with this pious request; and thus the britons, being brought over to christianity, continued without warping or disturbance till the reign of the emperor diocletian." and selden says: "howsoever, by injury of time, the memory of this great and illustrious prince king lucy hath been embezzled and smuggled; this, upon the credit of the ancient writers, appears plainly, that the pitiful fopperies of the pagans, and the worship of their idol devils, did begin to flag, and within a short time would have given place to the worship of the true god." as this "illustrious prince king lucy"--lucius verus--flourished in the latter part of the second century, and is credited with the erection of our first christian church on the site of st. martin's, at canterbury, it seems clear that even in those early days christianity was making progress in britain. from the time of julius agricola, who was roman commander from to , britain had been a roman province, and although the romans never conquered the whole of the island, yet during their occupation of what they called their province (the whole of britain, excepting that portion north of the firths of forth and clyde), they encouraged the christmas festivities and did much to civilise the people whom they had conquered and whom they governed for more than three hundred years. they built towns in different parts of the country and constructed good roads from one town to another, for they were excellent builders and road-makers. some of the roman emperors visited britain and others were chosen by the soldiers of britain; and in the reigns of constantine the great and other tolerant emperors the britains lived like romans, adopted roman manners and customs, and some of them learned to speak the latin language. christian churches were built and bishoprics founded; a hierarchy was established, and at the council of arles, in , three british bishops took part--those of york, london, and camulodunum (which is now colchester or malden, authorities are divided, but freeman says colchester). the canons framed at arles on this occasion became the law of the british church, and in this more favourable period for christians the christmas festival was kept with great rejoicing. but this settled state of affairs was subsequently disturbed by the departure of the romans and the several invasions of the anglo-saxons and the danes which preceded the norman conquest. [illustration] christmas again in troublous times: the departure of the romans and the invasion of the anglo-saxons. the outgoing of the romans and the incoming of the angles, the saxons, and the jutes disastrously affected the festival of christmas, for the invaders were heathens, and christianity was swept westward before them. they had lived in a part of the continent which had not been reached by christianity nor classic culture, and they worshipped the false gods of woden and thunder, and were addicted to various heathenish practices, some of which now mingled with the festivities of christmastide. still, as these angles came to stay and have given their name to our country, it may be well to note that they came over to britain from the one country which is known to have borne the name of angeln or the engle-land, and which is now called sleswick, a district in the middle of that peninsula which parts the baltic from the north sea or german ocean. the romans having become weakened through their conflicts with germany and other nations, at the beginning of the fifth century, the emperor honorius recalled the roman legions from britain, and this made it much easier for the angles and saxons (who had previously tried to get in) to come and remain in this country. thus our teuton forefathers came and conquered much the greater part of britain, the picts and scots remaining in the north and the welsh in the west of the island. it was their custom to kill or make slaves of all the people they could, and so completely did they conquer that part of britain in which they settled that they kept their own language and manners and their own heathenish religion, and destroyed or desecrated christian churches which had been set up. hence christian missionaries were required to convert our ancestral worshippers of woden and thunder, and a difficult business it was to christianise such pagans, for they stuck to their false gods with the same tenacity that the northern nations did. in his poem of "king olaf's christmas" longfellow refers to the worship of thor and odin alongside with the worship of christ in the northern nations:-- "at drontheim, olaf the king heard the bells of yule-tide ring, as he sat in his banquet-hall. drinking the nut-brown ale, with his bearded berserks hale and tall. * * * * * o'er his drinking horn, the sign he made of the cross divine as he drank, and muttered his prayers; but the berserks evermore made the sign of the hammer of thor over theirs." in england, too, christ and thor were worshipped side by side for at least years after the introduction of christianity, for while some of the english accepted christ as their true friend and saviour, he was not accepted by all the people. indeed, the struggle against him is still going on, but we anticipate the time when he shall be victorious all along the line. the christmas festival was duly observed by the missionaries who came to the south of england from rome, headed by augustine, and in the northern parts of the country the christian festivities were revived by the celtic missionaries from iona, under aidan, the famous columbian monk. at least half of england was covered by the columbian monks, whose great foundation upon the rocky island of iona, in the hebrides, was the source of christianity to scotland. the ritual of the celtic differed from that of the romish missionaries, and caused confusion, till at the synod of whitby ( ) the northumbrian kingdom adopted the roman usages, and england obtained ecclesiastical unity as a branch of the church of rome. thus unity in the church preceded by several centuries unity in the state. [illustration: queen bertha.] in connection with augustine's mission to england, a memorable story (recorded in green's "history of the english people") tells how, when but a young roman deacon, gregory had noted the white bodies, the fair faces, the golden hair of some youths who stood bound in the market-place of rome. "from what country do these slaves come?" he asked the traders who brought them. "they are english, angles!" the slave-dealers answered. the deacon's pity veiled itself in poetic humour. "not angles, but angels," he said, "with faces so angel-like! from what country come they?" "they come," said the merchants, "from deira." "de ira!" was the untranslatable reply; "aye, plucked from god's ire, and called to christ's mercy! and what is the name of their king?" "Ælla," they told him, and gregory seized on the words as of good omen. "alleluia shall be sung in Ælla's land!" he cried, and passed on, musing how the angel-faces should be brought to sing it. only three or four years had gone by when the deacon had become bishop of rome, and the marriage of bertha, daughter of the frankish king, charibert of paris, with Æthelberht, king of kent, gave him the opening he sought; for bertha, like her frankish kinsfolk, was a christian. and so, after negotiations with the rulers of gaul, gregory sent augustine, at the head of a band of monks, to preach the gospel to the english people. the missionaries landed in , on the very spot where hengest had landed more than a century before, in the isle of thanet; and the king received them sitting in the open air on the chalk-down above minster, where the eye nowadays catches, miles away over the marshes, the dim tower of canterbury. rowbotham, in his "history of music," says that wherever gregory sent missionaries he also sent copies of the gregorian song as he had arranged it in his "antiphonary." and he bade them go singing among the people. and augustine entered kent bearing a silver cross and a banner with the image of christ painted on it, while a long train of choristers walked behind him chanting the _kyrie eleison_. in this way they came to the court of Æthelberht, who assigned them canterbury as an abode; and they entered canterbury with similar pomp, and as they passed through the gates they sang this petition: "lord, we beseech thee to keep thy wrath away from this city and from thy holy church, alleluia!" as papal rome preserved many relics of heathen rome, so, in like manner, pope gregory, in sending augustine over to convert the anglo-saxons, directed him to accommodate the ceremonies of the christian worship as much as possible to those of the heathen, that the people might not be much startled at the change; and, in particular, he advised him to allow converts to kill and eat at the christmas festival a great number of oxen to the glory of god, as they had formerly done to the honour of the devil. the clergy, therefore, endeavoured to connect the remnants of pagan idolatry with christianity, and also allowed some of the practices of our british ancestors to mingle in the festivities of christmastide. the religion of the druids, the priests of the ancient britons, is supposed to have been somewhat similar to that of the brahmins of india, the magi of persia, and the chaldeans of syria. they worshipped in groves, regarded the oak and mistletoe as objects of veneration, and offered sacrifices. before christianity came to britain december was called "aerra geola," because the sun then "turns his glorious course." and under different names, such as woden (another form of odin), thor, thunder, saturn, &c., the pagans held their festivals of rejoicing at the winter solstice; and so many of the ancient customs connected with these festivals were modified and made subservient to christianity. some of the english even tried to serve christ and the older gods together, like the roman emperor, alexander severus, whose chapel contained orpheus side by side with abraham and christ. "roedwald of east anglia resolved to serve christ and the older gods together, and a pagan and a christian altar fronted one another in the same royal temple."[ ] kent, however, seems to have been evangelised rapidly, for it is recorded that on christmas day, , no less than ten thousand persons were baptized. [illustration] before his death augustine was able to see almost the whole of kent and essex nominally christian. christmas was now celebrated as the principal festival of the year, for our anglo-saxon forefathers delighted in the festivities of the halig-monath (holy month), as they called the month of december, in allusion to christmas day. at the great festival of christmas the meetings of the witenagemot were held, as well as at easter and whitsuntide, wherever the court happened to be. and at these times the anglo-saxon, and afterwards the danish, kings of england lived in state, wore their crowns, and were surrounded by all the great men of their kingdoms (together with strangers of rank) who were sumptuously entertained, and the most important affairs of state were brought under consideration. there was also an outflow of generous hospitality towards the poor, who had a hard time of it during the rest of the year, and who required the christmas gifts to provide them with such creature comforts as would help them through the inclement season of the year. readers of saxon history will remember that chieftains in the festive hall are alluded to in the comparison made by one of king edwin's chiefs, in discussing the welcome to be given to the christian missionary paulinus: "the present life of man, o king, seems to me, in comparison of that time which is unknown to us, like to the swift flight of a sparrow through the hall where you sit at your meal in winter, with your chiefs and attendants, warmed by a fire made in the middle of the hall, while storms of rain or snow prevail without." [illustration: an ancient fireplace.] the "hall" was the principal part of a gentleman's house in saxon times--the place of entertainment and hospitality--and at christmastide the doors were never shut against any who appeared to be worthy of welcome. and with such modes of travelling as were in vogue in those days one can readily understand that, not only at christmas, but also at other seasons, the rule of hospitality to strangers was a necessity. to this period belong the princely pageants and the magnificent christmas entertainments of king arthur and the knights of his round table. we know that some people are inclined to discredit the accounts which have come down to us of this famous british king and christian hero, but for our own part we are inclined to trust the old chroniclers, at all events so far as to believe that they give us true pictures [illustration: travelling in the olden time, with a "christmas fool" on the front seat.] of the manners and customs of the times of which they write; and in this prosaic age it may surely be permitted to us at christmastide to linger over the doings of those romantic days, "when every morning brought a noble chance, and every chance brought out a noble knight."[ ] sir john froissart tells us of the princely pageants which king arthur held at windsor in the sixth century, and of the sumptuous christmas banquetings at his round table--the very round table (so we are to believe, on the authority of dr. milner)[ ] which has been preserved in the old chapel, now termed the county hall, at winchester. it consists of stout oak plank, perforated with many bullets, supposed to have been shot by cromwell's soldiers. it is painted with a figure to represent king arthur, and with the names of his twenty-four knights as they are stated in the romances of the old chroniclers. this famous prince, who instituted the military order of the knights of the round table, is also credited with the reintroduction of christianity at york after the saxon invaders had destroyed the first churches built there. he was unwearying in his warfare against enemies of the religion of christ. his first great enterprise was the siege of a saxon army at york, and, having afterwards won brilliant victories in somersetshire and other parts of southern england, he again marched northward and penetrated scotland to attack the picts and scots, who had long harassed the border. on returning from scotland, arthur rested his wearied army at york and kept christmas with great bountifulness. geoffrey of monmouth says he was a prince of "unparalleled courage and generosity," and his christmas at york was kept with the greatest joy and festivity. then was the round table filled with jocund guests, and the minstrels, gleemen, harpers, pipe-players, jugglers, and dancers were as happy round about their log-fires as if they had shone in the blaze of a thousand gas-lights. [illustration: the wild boar hunt: killing the boar.] king arthur and his knights also indulged in out-door amusements, as hunting, hawking, running, leaping, wrestling, jousts, and tourneys. "so," says sir thomas malory,[ ] "passed forth all the winter with all manner of hunting and hawking, and jousts and tourneys were many between many great lords. and ever, in all manner of places, sir lavaine got great worship, that he was nobly renowned among many of the knights of the round table. thus it passed on until christmas, and every day there were jousts made for a diamond, that whosoever joust best should have a diamond. but sir launcelot would not joust, but if it were a great joust cried; but sir lavaine jousted there all the christmas passing well, and most was praised; for there were few that did so well as he; wherefore all manner of knights deemed that sir lavaine should be made a knight of the round table, at the next high feast of pentecost." the anglo-saxon excesses are referred to by some of the old chroniclers, intemperance being a very prevalent vice at the christmas festival. ale and mead were their favourite drinks; wines were used as occasional luxuries. "when all were satisfied with dinner," says an old chronicler, "and their tables were removed, they continued drinking till the evening." and another tells how drinking and gaming went on through the greater part of the night. chaucer's one solitary reference to christmastide is an allegorical representation of the jovial feasting which was the characteristic feature of this great festival held in "the colde frosty season of december." "janus sits by the fire with double beard, and drinketh of his bugle horn the wine: before him stands the brawn of tuskéd swine, and 'nowel' cryeth every lusty man."[ ] the saxons were strongly attached to field sports, and as the "brawn of the tuskéd swine" was the first christmas dish, it was provided by the pleasant preliminary pastime of hunting the wild boar; and the incidents of the chase afforded interesting table talk when the boar's head was brought in ceremoniously to the christmas festival. prominent among the anglo-saxon amusements of christmastide, strutt mentions their propensity for gaming with dice, as derived from their ancestors, for tacitus assures us that the ancient germans would not only hazard all their wealth, but even stake their liberty, upon the turn of the dice: "and he who loses submits to servitude, though younger and stronger than his antagonist, and patiently permits himself to be bound and sold in the market; and this madness they dignify by the name of honour." chess and backgammon were also favourite games with the anglo-saxons, and a large portion of the night was appropriated to the pursuit of these sedentary amusements, especially at the christmas season of the year, when the early darkness stopped out-door games. "when they had dined, as i can you say, lords and ladies went to play; some to tables, and some to chess, with other games more and less."[ ] our saxon forefathers were very superstitious. they had many pretenders to witchcraft. they believed in the powers of philtres and spells, and invocated spirits; and they relished a blood-curdling ghost story at christmas quite as much as their twentieth-century descendants. they confided in prognostics, and believed in the influence of particular times and seasons; and at christmastide they derived peculiar pleasure from their belief in the immunity of the season from malign influences--a belief which descended to elizabethan days, and is referred to by shakespeare, in "hamlet":-- "some say that ever 'gainst that season comes, wherein our saviour's birth is celebrated, the bird of dawning singeth all night long: and then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad; the nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, no fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, so hallowed and so gracious is the time." [illustration: adoration of the magi old glass winchester cathedral] we cannot pass over this period without mentioning a great christmas in the history of our teutonic kinsmen on the continent, for the saxons of england and those of germany have the same teutonic origin. we refer to the crowning of charlemagne emperor of the romans on christmas day. the coronation took place at rome, on christmas day, in the year . freeman[ ] says that when charles was king of the franks and lombards and patrician of the romans, he was on very friendly terms with the mighty offa, king of the angles that dwelt in mercia. charles and offa not only exchanged letters and gifts, but each gave the subjects of the other various rights in his dominions, and they made a league together, "for that they two were the mightiest of all the kings that dwelt in the western lands." as conqueror of the old saxons in germany, charles may be regarded as the first king of all germany, and he was the first man of any teutonic nation who was called roman emperor. he was crowned with the diadem of the cæsars, by pope leo, in the name of charles augustus, emperor of the romans. and it was held for a thousand years after, down to the year , that the king of the franks, or, as he was afterwards called, the king of germany, had a right to be crowned by the pope of rome, and to be called emperor of the romans. in the year , however, the emperor francis the second, who was also king of hungary and archduke of austria, resigned the roman empire and the kingdom of germany. since that time no emperor of the romans has been chosen; but a new german emperor has been created, and the event may be regarded as one of christmastide, for the victorious soldiers who brought it about spent their christmas in the french capital, and during the festival arranged for the re-establishment of the german empire. so it happens, that while referring to the crowning of the first german emperor of the roman empire, on christmas day, , we are able to record that more than a thousand years afterwards the unification of the german empire and the creation of its first emperor also occurred at christmastide, under the influence of the german triumphs over the french in the war of . the imposing event was resolved upon by the german princes on december , , the preliminaries were completed during the christmas festival, and on january , , in the galerie des glaces of the château of versailles, william, king of prussia, was crowned and proclaimed first emperor of the new german empire. now, going back again over a millennium, we come to christmas in the time of alfred the great. during the reign of alfred the great a law was passed with relation to holidays, by virtue of which the twelve days after the nativity of our saviour were set apart for the celebration of the christmas festival. some writers are of opinion that, but for alfred's strict observance of the "full twelve holy days," he would not have been defeated by the danes in the year . it was just after twelfth-night that the danish host came suddenly--"bestole," as the old chronicle says--to chippenham. then "they rode through the west saxons' land, and there sat down, and mickle of the folk over sea they drove, and of others the most deal they rode over; all but the king alfred; he with a little band hardly fared after the woods and on the moor-fastnesses." but whether or not alfred's preparations for the battle just referred to were hindered by his enjoyment of the festivities of christmastide with his subjects, it is quite certain that the king won the hearts of his people by the great interest he took in their welfare. this good king--whose intimacy with his people we delight to associate with the homely incident of the burning of a cottager's cakes--kept the christmas festival quite as heartily as any of the early english kings, but not so boisterously as some of them. of the many beautiful stories told about him, one might very well belong to christmastide. it is said that, wishing to know what the danes were about, and how strong they were, king alfred one day set out from athelney in the disguise of a christmas minstrel, and went into the danish camp, and stayed there several days, amusing the danes with his playing, till he had seen all he wanted, and then went back without any one finding him out. now, passing on to christmas under the danish kings of england, we find that in king edgar celebrated the christmas festival with great splendour at york; and in ethelred kept his christmas with the brave citizens of london who had defended the capital during a siege and stoutly resisted swegen, the tyrant king of the danes. sir walter scott, in his beautiful poem of "marmion," thus pictures the "savage dane" keeping the great winter festival:-- "even, heathen yet, the savage dane at iol more deep the mead did drain; high on the beach his galleys drew, and feasted all his pirate crew; then in his low and pine-built hall, where shields and axes deck'd the wall, they gorged upon the half-dress'd steer; caroused in seas of sable beer; while round, in brutal jest, were thrown the half-gnaw'd rib, and marrow bone: or listen'd all, in grim delight. while scalds yell'd out the joys of fight. then forth, in frenzy, would they hie, while wildly-loose their red locks fly, and dancing round the blazing pile, they make such barbarous mirth the while, as best might to the mind recall the boisterous joys of odin's hall." when the citizens of london saw that swegen had succeeded all over england except their own city, they thought it was no use holding out any longer, and they too, submitted and gave hostages. and so swegen was the first dane who was king, or (as florence calls him) "tyrant over all england;" and ethelred, sometimes called the "unready," king of the west saxons, who had struggled unsuccessfully against the danes, fled with his wife and children to his brother-in-law's court in normandy. on the death of swegen, the danes of his fleet chose his son cnut to be king, but the english invited ethelred to return from normandy and renew the struggle with the danes. he did so, and the anglo-saxon chronicle says: "he held his kingdom with great toil and great difficulty the while that his life lasted." after his death and that of his son edmund, cnut was finally elected and crowned. freeman,[ ] in recording the event, says that: "at the christmas of - , cnut was a third time chosen king over all england, and one of the first things that he did was to send to normandy for the widowed lady emma, though she was many years older than he was. she came over; she married the new king; and was again lady of the english. she bore cnut two children, harthacnut and gunhild. her three children by ethelred were left in normandy. she seems not to have cared at all for them or for the memory of ethelred; her whole love passed to her new husband and her new children. thus it came about that the children of ethelred were brought up in normandy, and had the feelings of normans rather than englishmen, a thing which again greatly helped the norman conquest." cnut's first acts of government in england were a series of murders; but he afterwards became a wise and temperate king. he even identified himself with the patriotism which had withstood the stranger. he joined heartily in the festivities of christmastide, and atoned for his father's ravages by costly gifts to the religious houses. and his love for monks broke out in the song which he composed as he listened to their chant at ely: "merrily sang the monks in ely when cnut king rowed by" across the vast fen-waters that surrounded their abbey. "row, boatmen, near the land, and hear we these monks sing."[ ] "'all hail!' the monks at christmas sang; the merry monks who kept with cheer the gladdest day of all the year."[ ] it is said that cnut, who is also called canute, "marked one of his royal christmases by a piece of sudden retributive justice: bored beyond all endurance by the saxon edric's iteration of the traitorous services he had rendered him, the king exclaimed to edric, earl of northumberland: 'then let him receive his deserts, that he may not betray us as he betrayed ethelred and edmund!' upon which the ready norwegian disposed of all fear on that score by cutting down the boaster with his axe, and throwing his body into the thames."[ ] in the year , king cnut died at shaftesbury, and was buried in winchester cathedral. his sons, harold and harthacnut, did not possess the capacity for good government, otherwise the reign of the danes might have continued. as it was, their reigns, though short, were troublesome. harold died at oxford in , and was buried at westminster (being the first king who was buried there); harthacnut died at lambeth at a wedding-feast in , and was buried beside his father in winchester cathedral. and thus ended the reigns of the danish kings of england. now we come to the reign of edward the confessor, who, we are told, was heartily chosen by all the people, for the two very good reasons, that he was an englishman by birth, and the only man of either the english or the danish royal families who was at hand. he was the son of ethelred and emma, and at the christmas festival of his coronation there was great rejoicing. as his early training had been at the court of his uncle, richard the good, in normandy, he had learnt to prefer norman-french customs and life to those of the english. during his reign, therefore, he brought over many strangers and appointed them to high ecclesiastical and other offices, and norman influence and refinement of manners gradually increased at the english court, and this, of course, led to the more stately celebration of the christmas festival. the king himself, being of a pious and meditative disposition, naturally took more interest in the religious than the temporal rejoicings, and the administration of state affairs was left almost entirely to members of the house of godwin during the principal part of his reign. many disturbances occurred during edward's reign in different parts of the country, especially on the welsh border. at the christmas meeting of the king and his wise men, at gloucester, in , it was ordered that rhys, the brother of gruffydd, the south welsh king, be put to death for his great plunder and mischief. the same year, the great earl godwine, while dining with the king at winchester at the easter feast, suddenly fell in a fit, died four days after, and was buried in the old cathedral. a few years later ( ), the northumbrians complained that earl tostig, harold's brother, had caused gospatric, one of the chief thanes, to be treacherously murdered when he came to the king's court the christmas before. king edward kept his last christmas ( ), and had the meeting of his wise men in london instead of gloucester as usual. his great object was to finish his new church at westminster, and to have it hallowed before he died. he lived just long enough to have this done. on innocent's day the new minster was consecrated, but the king was too ill to be there, so the lady edith stood in his stead. and on january , , king edward, the son of ethelred, died. on the morning of the day following his death, the body of the confessor was laid in the tomb, in his new church; and on the same day-- harold was crowned king in his stead. thus three very important events--the consecration of westminster abbey, the death of edward the confessor, and the crowning of harold--all occurred during the same christmas festival. in the terrible year england had three kings. the reign of harold, the son of godwine, who succeeded edward the confessor, terminated at the battle of senlac, or hastings, and on the following christmas day william the conqueror was crowned king by archbishop ealdred. he had not at that time conquered all the land, and it was a long while before he really possessed the whole of it. still, he was the king, chosen, crowned, and anointed, and no one ever was able to drive him out of the land, and the crown of england has ever since been held by his descendants. [ ] green's "history of the english people." [ ] tennyson. [ ] "history of winchester." [ ] "history of king arthur and his noble knights." [ ] "the franklin's tale." [ ] "romance of ipomydon." [ ] "old english history." [ ] "short history of the norman conquest." [ ] "history of the english people." [ ] j. g. whittier. [ ] "chambers's journal," dec. , . [illustration] chapter iv. christmas, from the norman conquest to magna charta. ( to .) now we come to the christmas celebrations under the normans. [illustration: a king at dinner.] lord macaulay says "the polite luxury of the normans presented a striking contrast to the coarse voracity and drunkenness of their saxon and danish neighbours." and certainly the above example of a royal dinner scene (from a manuscript of the fourteenth century) gives an idea of stately ceremony which is not found in any manuscripts previous to the coming over of the normans. they "loved to display their magnificence, not in huge piles of food and hogsheads of strong drink, but in large and stately edifices, rich armour, gallant horses, choice falcons, well-ordered tournaments, banquets delicate rather than abundant, and wines remarkable rather for their exquisite flavour than for their intoxicating power." quite so. but even the normans were not all temperate. and, while it is quite true that the refined manners and chivalrous spirit of the normans exercised a powerful influence on the anglo-saxons, it is equally true that the conquerors on mingling with the english people adopted many of the ancient customs to which they tenaciously clung, and these included the customs of christmastide. the norman kings and nobles displayed their taste for magnificence in the most remarkable manner at their coronations, tournaments, and their celebrations of christmas, easter, and whitsuntide. the great councils of the norman reigns which assembled at christmas and the other great festivals, were in appearance a continuation of the witenagemots, but the power of the barons became very formal in the presence of such despotic monarchs as william the conqueror and his sons. at the christmas festival all the prelates and nobles of the kingdom were, by their tenures, obliged to attend their sovereign to assist in the administration of justice and in deliberation on the great affairs of the kingdom. on these occasions the king wore his crown, and feasted his nobles in the great hall of his palace, and made them presents as marks of his royal favour, after which they proceeded to the consideration of state affairs. wherever the court happened to be, there was usually a large assemblage of gleemen, who were jugglers and pantomimists as well as minstrels, and were accustomed to associate themselves in companies, and amuse the spectators with feats of strength and agility, dancing, tumbling, and sleight-of-hand tricks, as well as musical performances. among the minstrels who came into england with william the conqueror was one named taillefer, who was present at the battle of hastings, and rode in front of the norman army, inspiriting the soldiers by his songs. he sang of roland, the heroic captain of charlemagne, tossing his sword in the air and catching it again as he approached the english line. he was the first to strike a blow at the english, but after mortally wounding one or two of king harold's warriors, he was himself struck down. at the christmas feast minstrels played on various musical instruments during dinner, and sang or told tales afterwards, both in the hall and in the chamber to which the king and his nobles retired for amusement. thus it is written of a court minstrel:-- "before the king he set him down and took his harp of merry soun, and, as he full well can, many merry notes he began. the king beheld, and sat full still, to hear his harping he had good will. when he left off his harping, to him said that rich king, minstrel, we liketh well thy glee, what thing that thou ask of me largely i will thee pay; therefore ask now and asay." (_sir orpheo._) [illustration: blind minstrel at a feast.] after the conquest the first entertainments given by william the conqueror were those to his victorious warriors:-- "every warrior's manly neck chains of regal honour deck, wreathed in many a golden link: from the golden cup they drink nectar that the bees produce, or the grape's extatic juice. flush'd with mirth and hope they burn." _the gododin._ in the conqueror kept a grand christmas in london. he had spent eight months of that year rewarding his warriors and gratifying his subjects in normandy, where he had held a round of feasts and made a grand display of the valuable booty which he had won by his sword. a part of his plunder he sent to the pope along with the banner of harold. another portion, consisting of gold, golden vases, and richly embroidered stuffs, was distributed among the abbeys, monasteries, and churches of his native duchy, "neither monks nor priests remaining without a guerdon." after spending the greater part of the year in splendid entertainments in normandy, apparently undisturbed by the reports which had reached him of discontent and insurrection among his new subjects in england, william at length embarked at dieppe on the th of december, , and returned to london to celebrate the approaching festival of christmas. with the object of quieting the discontent which prevailed, he invited a considerable number of the saxon chiefs to take part in the christmas festival, which was kept with unusual splendour; and he also caused a proclamation to be read in all the churches of the capital declaring it to be his will that "all the citizens of london should enjoy their national laws as in the days of king edward." but his policy of friendship and conciliation was soon changed into one of cruelty and oppression. at the instigation of swein, the king of denmark, who appeared in the humber with a fleet, the people in the north of england and in some other parts rose in revolt against the rule of the conqueror in . so skilfully had the revolt been planned that even william was taken by surprise. while he was hunting in the forest of dean he heard of the loss of york and the slaughter of his garrison of , normans, and resolved to avenge the disaster. proceeding to the humber with his horsemen, by a heavy bribe he got the king of denmark to withdraw his fleet; then, after some delay, spent in punishing revolters in the welsh border, he attacked and took the city of york. the land in durham and northumberland was still quite unsubdued, and some of william's soldiers had fared badly in their attempts to take possession. at the christmas feast of william made a grant of the earldom of northumberland to robert of comines, who set out with a norman army to take possession. but he fared no better than his predecessors had done. the men of the land determined to withstand him, but through the help of bishop Æthelwine he entered durham peaceably. but he let his men plunder, so the men of the city rose and slew him and his followers. and now, says freeman,[ ] william "did one of the most frightful deeds of his life. he caused all northern england, beginning with yorkshire, to be utterly laid waste, that its people might not be able to fight against him any more. the havoc was fearful; men were starved or sold themselves as slaves, and the land did not recover for many years. then king william wore his crown and kept his christmas at york" ( ). now the conqueror set barons in different parts of the country, and each of them kept his own miniature court and celebrated christmas after the costly norman style. in his beautiful poem of "the norman baron" longfellow pictures one of these christmas celebrations, and tells how-- "in the hall, the serf and vassal held, that night, their christmas wassail; many a carol, old and saintly, sang the minstrels and the waits. and so loud these saxon gleemen sang to slaves the songs of freemen, that the storm was heard but faintly knocking at the castle-gates. till at length the lays they chaunted reached the chamber terror-haunted, where the monk, with accents holy, whispered at the baron's ear. tears upon his eyelids glistened as he paused awhile and listened, and the dying baron slowly turned his weary head to hear. 'wassail for the kingly stranger born and cradled in a manger! king, like david, priest, like aaron, christ is born to set us free!'" [illustration: minstrels' christmas serenade at an old baronial hall.] according to strutt, the popular sports and pastimes prevalent at the close of the saxon era were not subjected to any material change by the coming of the normans. but william and his immediate successors restricted the privileges of the chase, and imposed great penalties on those who presumed to destroy the game in the royal forests without a proper license. the wild boar and the wolf still afforded sport at the christmas season, and there was an abundance of smaller game. leaping, running, wrestling, the casting of darts, and other pastimes which required bodily strength and agility were also practised, and when the frost set in various games were engaged in upon the ice. it is not known at what time skating made its first appearance in england, but we find some traces of such an exercise in the thirteenth century, at which period, according to fitzstephen, it was customary in the winter, when the ice would bear them, for the young citizens of london to fasten the leg bones of animals under the soles of their feet by tying them round their ankles; and then, taking a pole shod with iron into their hands, they pushed themselves forward by striking it against the ice, and moved with celerity equal, says the author, to a bird flying through the air, or an arrow from a cross-bow; but some allowance, we presume, must be made for the poetical figure: he then adds, "at times, two of them thus furnished agree to start opposite one to another, at a great distance; they meet, elevate their poles, attack, and strike each other, when one or both of them fall, and not without some bodily hurt; and, even after their fall, are carried a great distance from each other, by the rapidity of the motion, and whatever part of the head comes upon the ice it is sure to be laid bare." the meetings of the king and his wise men for the consideration of state affairs were continued at the great festivals, and that held at christmas in is memorable on account of the resolution then passed to make the domesday survey, in reference to which freeman says: "one of the greatest acts of william's reign, and that by which we come to know more about england in his time than from any other source, was done in the assembly held at gloucester at the christmas of . then the king had, as the chronicle says, 'very deep speech with his wise men.' this 'deep speech' in english is in french _parlement_; and so we see how our assemblies came by their later name. and the end of the deep speech was that commissioners were sent through all england, save only the bishopric of durham and the earldom of northumberland, to make a survey of the land. they were to set down by whom every piece of land, great and small, was held then, by whom it was held in king edward's day, what it was worth now, and what it had been worth in king edward's day. all this was written in a book kept at winchester, which men called _domesday book_. it is a most wonderful record, and tells us more of the state of england just at that moment than we know of it for a long time before or after." the domesday book was completed in , and the following year ( ) william the conqueror died, and his son, william rufus, succeeded him. [illustration: westminster hall.] the coronation of william the red took place at westminster on september , , archbishop lanfranc officiating. the king kept his first christmas sumptuously at westminster, and, freeman says, "it seems to have been then that he gave back the earldom of kent to his uncle, bishop odo." the character of the royal christmases degenerated during the reign of rufus, whose licentiousness fouled the festivities. in the latter part of his reign rufus reared the spacious hall at westminster, where so many royal christmases were afterwards kept, and which pope calls "rufus's roaring hall." it is a magnificent relic of the profuse hospitality of former times. richard the second heightened its walls and added its noble roof of british oak, which shows the excellence of the wood carving of that period. although sir charles barry has shortened the hall of its former proportions to fit it as a vestibule to the new houses of parliament, it is still a noble and spacious building, and one cannot walk through it without in imagination recalling some of the royal christmases and other stately scenes which have been witnessed there. the last of these festal glories was the coronation of george the fourth, which took place in . this grand old hall at westminster was the theatre of rufus's feasting and revelry; but, vast as the edifice then was, it did not equal the ideas of the extravagant monarch. an old chronicler states that one of the king's courtiers, having observed that the building was too large for the purposes of its construction, rufus replied, "this halle is not begge enough by one half, and is but a bedchamber in comparison of that i mind to make." yet this hall was for centuries the largest of its kind in europe, and in it the christmas feasts were magnificently kept. after a reign of thirteen years the vicious life of william rufus met with a tragical close. his dead body was found by peasants in a glade of the new forest with the arrow either of a hunter or an assassin in his breast. sir walter tyrrel, a norman knight, who had been hunting with the king just before his death, fled to normandy immediately afterwards, and was suspected of being a regicide. the body of rufus was buried in winchester cathedral. christmas in the reign of henry i. henry the first's christmas festival at windsor, in , was a memorable one. in that year henry's daughter matilda became a widow by the death of her husband, henry v. of germany, and king henry determined to appoint her his successor to the throne of england and the dukedom of normandy. on christmas day, , a general assembly of the nobles and higher ecclesiastics of the kingdom was held at windsor for the purpose of declaring the empress matilda (as she was still called) the legitimate successor of henry i., and the clergy and norman barons of both countries swore allegiance to her in the event of the king's death. this appointment of matilda was made by henry in consequence of the calamity which occurred just before christmas, in , when he lost his much-loved son, prince william--the only male legitimate issue of henry--through the wreck of _la blanche nef_ (the white ship). on board the vessel were prince william, his half-brother richard, and henry's natural daughter the countess of perche, as well as about a hundred and forty young noblemen of the most distinguished families in england and normandy, all of whom were lost in their passage home, only a few hours after the safe arrival of the king in england. henry is said to have swooned at the intelligence, and was never afterwards seen to smile. he had returned home anticipating a joyous christmas festival, a season of glad tidings, but he was closely followed by this sad news of the death of the heir apparent. the incident has called forth one of the most beautiful poems of mrs. hemans, from which we quote two verses:-- "the bark that held a prince went down, the sweeping waves rolled on; and what was england's glorious crown to him that wept a son? he lived--for life may long be borne, ere sorrow break its chain: why comes not death to those who mourn? he never smiled again! * * * * * he sat where festal bowls went round, he heard the minstrel sing; he saw the tourney's victor crowned, amidst the kingly ring; a murmur of the restless deep was blent with every strain, a voice of winds that would not sleep,-- he never smiled again!" in henry invited the king of the scots to windsor to join in the royal celebration of christmas, but the festivities were marred by an unseemly quarrel between the two primates. thurstan, archbishop of york, encroaching upon the privileges of his brother of canterbury (william de corbeuil), insisted upon placing the crown upon the king's head ere he set out for church. this the partisans of canterbury would not allow, settling the matter by turning thurstan's chaplain and followers out of doors, and thereby causing such strife between the heads of the church that they both set off to rome to lay their grievances before the pope. and, subsequently, appeals to rome became frequent, until a satisfactory adjustment of the powers and privileges of the two archbishops was arrived at. the archbishop of canterbury was acknowledged primate of all england and metropolitan; but, while the privilege of crowning the sovereign was reserved for the archbishop of canterbury, that of crowning the queen consort was given to the archbishop of york. [illustration] strange old stories of christmastide. the progress of literature under the conqueror and his sons was very great, many devoting themselves almost entirely to literary pursuits. lanfranc and anselm, the archbishops of canterbury, had proved themselves worthy of their exalted station. their precepts and examples had awakened the clergy and kindled an ardour for learning unknown in any preceding age. nor did this enthusiasm perish with its authors: it was kept alive by the honours which were lavished on all who could boast of literary acquirements. during the reign of henry i. geoffrey of monmouth published his history of the britons, and william of malmesbury assures us that every poet hastened to the court of henry's queen matilda, at westminster, to read his verses to the queen and partake of her bounty. william of malmesbury carefully collected the lighter ballads which embodied the popular traditions of the english kings, and he tells an amusing story which is connected with the festival of christmas. in early times dancing developed into a sort of passion, men and women continually dancing and singing together, holding one another by the hands, and concluding the dances with kisses. these levities were at first encouraged by the church, but afterwards, seeing the abuse of them, the priests were compelled to reprimand and restrain the people. and the story told by william of malmesbury describes the singular punishment which came upon some young men and women for disturbing a priest who was performing mass on the eve of christmas. "i, othbert, a sinner," says the story, "have lived to tell the tale. it was the vigil of the blessed virgin, and in a town where was a church of st. magnus. and the priest, rathbertus, had just begun the mass, and i, with my comrades, fifteen young women and seventeen young men, were dancing outside the church. and we were singing so loud that our songs were distinctly heard inside the building, and interrupted the service of the mass. and the priest came out and told us to desist; and when we did not, he prayed god and st. magnus that we might dance as our punishment for a year to come. a youth, whose sister was dancing with us, seized her by the arm to drag her away, but it came off in his hand, and she danced on. for a whole year we continued. no rain fell on us; cold, nor heat, nor hunger, nor thirst, nor fatigue affected us; neither our shoes nor our clothes wore out; but still we went on dancing. we trod the earth down to our knees, next to our middles, and at last were dancing in a pit. at the end of the year release came." giraldus cambrensis, amongst many ridiculous christmas stories of miracles, visions, and apparitions, tells of one devil who acted a considerable time as a gentleman's butler with great prudence and probity; and of another who was a very diligent and learned clergyman, and a mighty favourite of his archbishop. this last clerical devil was, it seems, an excellent historian, and used to divert the archbishop with telling him old stories, some of which referred to the incarnation of our saviour, and were related at the christmas season. "before the incarnation of our saviour," said the archbishop's historian, "the devils had great power over mankind, but after that event their power was much diminished and they were obliged to fly. some of them threw themselves into the sea; some concealed themselves in hollow trees, or in the clefts of rocks; and i myself plunged into a certain fountain. as soon as he had said this, finding that he had discovered his secret, his face was covered with blushes, he went out of the room, and was no more seen." the following cut (taken from ms. harl., no. , of the end of the twelfth century) represents an elephant, with its castle and armed men, engaged in battle. the bestiaries relate many strange things of the elephant. they say that, though so large and powerful, and so courageous against larger animals, it is afraid of a mouse; that its nature is so cold that it will never seek the company of the female until, wandering in the direction of paradise, it meets with the plant called the mandrake, and eats of it, and that each female bears but one young one in her life. [illustration] absurd as we consider such stories, they were believed by the normans, who were no less credulous than the anglo-saxons. this is evident from the large number of miracles, revelations, visions, and enchantments which are related with great gravity by the old chroniclers. [illustration] the misrule of king stephen. stephen of blois was crowned at westminster abbey during the christmas festival (december , ). as a king of misrule, he was fitly crowned at christmastide, and it would have been a good thing for the nation if his reign had been of the ephemeral character which was customary to lords of misrule. the nineteen years of his reign were years of disorder unparalleled in any period of our history. on the landing of henry the first's daughter, "the empress matilda," who claimed the english crown for her son henry, a long struggle ensued, and the country was divided between the adherents of the two rivals, the west supporting matilda, and london and the east stephen. for a time the successes in war alternated between the two parties. a defeat at lincoln left stephen a prisoner in the hands of his enemies; but after his escape he laid siege to the city of oxford, where matilda had assembled her followers. "the lady" of the english (as matilda was then called) had retreated into the castle, which, though a place of great strength, proved to be insufficiently victualled. it was surrounded and cut off from all supplies without, and at christmastide ( ), after a siege of three months, matilda consulted her own safety by taking flight. on a cold december night, when the ground was covered with snow, she quitted the castle at midnight, attended by four knights, who as well as herself were clothed in white, in order that they might pass unobserved through the lines of their enemies. the adventurous "lady" made good her escape, and crossing the river unnoticed on the ice, found her way to abingdon. the long anarchy was ended by the treaty of wallingford ( ), stephen being recognised as king during his life, and the succession devolving upon matilda's son henry. a year had hardly passed from the signing of the treaty, when stephen's death gave henry the crown, and his coronation took place at christmastide, , at westminster. the reign of henry ii., it has been truly said, "initiated the rule of law," as distinct from despotism, whether personal or tempered by routine, of the norman kings. and now the despotic barons began gradually to be shorn of their power, and the dungeons of their "adulterine" castles to be stripped of their horrors, and it seemed more appropriate to celebrate the season of glad tidings. king henry the second kept his first christmas at bermondsey with great solemnity, marking the occasion by passing his royal word to expel all foreigners from the kingdom, whereupon william of ypres and his flemings decamped without waiting for further notice. in henry, celebrating the christmas festival at worcester, took the crown from his head and placed it upon the altar, after which he never wore it. but he did not cease to keep christmas. in he went to ireland, where the chiefs of the land displayed a wonderful alacrity in taking the oath of allegiance, and were rewarded by being entertained in a style that astonished them. finding no place in dublin large enough to contain his own followers, much less his guests, henry had a house built in irish fashion of twigs and wattles in the village of hogges, and there held high revelry during christmastide, teaching his new subjects to eat cranes' flesh, and take their part in miracle plays, masques, mummeries, and tournaments. and a great number of oxen were roasted, so that all the people might take part in the rejoicings. christmas entertainments at constantinople. in his description of christian constantinople, benjamin of tudela, a spanish jew, who travelled through the east in the twelfth century ( or ), describes a "place where the king diverts himself, called the hippodrome, near to the wall of the palace. there it is that every year, on the day of the birth of jesus the nazarene, the king gives a grand entertainment. there are represented by magic arts before the king and queen, figures of all kinds of men that exist in the world; thither also are taken lions, bears, tigers, and wild asses, which are made to fight together; as well as birds. there is no such sight to be seen in all the world." at constantinople, on the marriage of the emperor manuel with mary, daughter of the prince of antioch, on christmas day, , there were great rejoicings, and similar spectacular entertainments to those described by benjamin of tudela. an archbishop murdered at christmastide. during the christmas festival of (december th) occurred an event memorable in ecclesiastical history--the murder of thomas becket, archbishop of canterbury. in becket (who had previously been chancellor to henry ii.) was made archbishop, in succession to archbishop theobald. the king soon found that he who had served him faithfully as chancellor would oppose him doggedly as archbishop. henry determined to subject the church as well as the state to the supremacy of the law; and becket determined to resist the king to the end, thus manifesting his desire for martyrdom in the cause of the church. henry had greatly offended the archbishop by causing his eldest son to be crowned by the archbishop of york. for this violation of the rights of canterbury becket threatened to lay the country under an interdict, which he had the power from the pope to pronounce. a sort of reconciliation was effected between the king and the archbishop at freteval on july , , but a further dispute arose on becket delaying his return to england, the king being anxious to get him out of france. the archbishop was full of complaints against henry for the injuries he had done to his see, and the king stood upon his dignity, regardless of the threatened interdiction. the archbishop returned to england on the st of december, and was joyfully received by the people. his enemies, however, and especially the family of de broc, did all they could to annoy him; and on christmas day he uttered a violent anathema against them. he preached from the text, "i come to die among you," evidently anticipating what might be the personal consequences of his action. he told his congregation that one of the archbishops had been a martyr, and they would probably soon see another; but before he departed home he would avenge some of the wrongs the church had suffered during the previous seven years. then he thundered forth his sentence of excommunication against ranulph and robert de broc, and nigellus, rector of harrow. meanwhile news had reached the king that becket had excommunicated certain bishops who had taken part in his son's coronation. in a fit of exasperation the king uttered some hasty words of anger against the archbishop. acting upon these, four of henry's knights--hugh de morville, reginald fitzurse, william de tracy, and richard brito--crossed to england, taking with them ranulf de broc and a band of men, and murdered the archbishop in canterbury cathedral. in the altercation which took place before the consummation of the terrible deed, the primate was asked to absolve the bishops whom he had excommunicated, but he refused in a defiant and insulting manner. "then die," exclaimed fitzurse, striking at becket's head with his weapon; but the devoted cross-bearer warded off the blow with his own arm, which was badly cut, so that the archbishop was but slightly injured. one of the attacking party then called out, "fly, or thou diest!" the archbishop, however, clasped his hands, and, with the blood streaming down his face, fervently exclaimed, "to god, to st. mary, to the holy patrons of this church, and to st. denis i commend my soul and the church's cause." he was then struck down by a second blow, and the third completed the tragedy; whereupon one of the murderers, putting his foot on the dead prelate's neck, cried, "thus dies a traitor!" in the archbishop was canonised, and his festival was appointed for the day of his martyrdom; and for three centuries after his death the shrine of st. thomas at canterbury was a favourite place of pilgrimage, so great was the impression that his martyrdom made on the minds of the english people. as early as the easter of becket's sepulchre was the scene of many miracles, if matthew paris, the historian, is to be believed. what must have been the credulity of the people in an age when an historian could gravely write, as matthew paris did in ? "in this year, about easter, it pleased the lord jesus christ to irradiate his glorious martyr thomas becket with many miracles, that it might appear to all the world he had obtained a victory suitable to his merits. none who approached his sepulchre in faith returned without a cure. for strength was restored to the lame, hearing to the deaf, sight to the blind, speech to the dumb, health to the lepers, and life to the dead. nay, not only men and women, but even birds and beasts were raised from death to life." royal christmases at windsor. windsor castle appears to have been the favourite residence of henry ii. when, in , he had united with him his son henry in his crown and prerogatives, the two kings held an assembly at windsor, attended by the judges, deputies of counties and districts, and all the great officers of state. henry also kept his ensuing christmas with the magnificence and display peculiar to the times, and all the ancient sports and usages; in which the nobles and gentry of the surrounding country assisted with much splendour at the hunt and tourney, and bestowed lavish gifts on the spectators and the people. after the kingdom was parcelled out into four jurisdictions, another assembly was held at the castle, in , by the two kings; and, in , henry for the last time celebrated his christmas in the same hall of state: his son, who had shared the throne with him, being then dead. for the festivals of this period the tables of princes, prelates, and great barons were plentifully supplied with many dishes of meat dressed in various ways. the normans sent agents into different countries to collect the most rare dishes for their tables, by which means, says john of salisbury, this island, which is naturally productive of plenty and variety of provisions, was overflowed with everything that could inflame a luxurious appetite. the same writer says he was present at an entertainment which lasted from three o'clock in the afternoon to midnight; at which delicacies were served up which had been brought from constantinople, babylon, alexandria, palestine, tripoli, syria, and phoenicia. the sumptuous entertainments which the kings of england gave to their nobles and prelates at the festivals of christmas, easter, and whitsuntide diffused a taste for profuse and expensive banqueting; for the wealthy barons, prelates, and gentry, in their own castles and mansions, imitated the splendour of the royal entertainments. great men had some kinds of provisions at their tables which are not now to be found in britain. when henry ii. entertained his own court, the great officers of his army, and all the kings and great men in ireland, at the feast of christmas, , the irish princes and chieftains were quite astonished at the profusion and variety of provisions which they beheld, and were with difficulty prevailed on by henry to eat the flesh of cranes, a kind of food to which they had not been accustomed. dellegrout, maupigyrum, karumpie, and other dishes were then used, the composition of which is now unknown, or doubtful. persons of rank and wealth had variety of drinks, as well as meats; for, besides wines of various kinds, they had pigment, morat, mead, hypocras, claret, cider, perry, and ale. the claret of those times was wine clarified and mixed with spices, and hypocras was wine mixed with honey. [illustration: a cook of the period.] the profusion of viands and drinks, obtained at great expense from different parts of the world for the gratification of the animal appetites at such festivals as have been described, naturally led to excesses in eating and drinking, and from the statements and illustrations in old manuscripts it would appear that "the merry monks" were prominent in gastronomical circles. and extant records also state that the abbots of some of the monasteries found it necessary to make regulations restraining the monks, and to these regulations the monks objected. consequently the monks of st. swithin at winchester made a formal complaint to henry ii. against their abbot for taking away three of the thirteen dishes they used to have at dinner. the monks of canterbury were still more luxurious, for they had at least seventeen dishes every day besides a dessert; and these dishes were dressed with spices and sauces which excited the appetite as well as pleased the taste. and of course the festive season of christmas was an occasion of special indulgence. sometimes serious excesses were followed by severe discipline, administered after the manner shown in the ancient illustration which is reproduced here. [illustration: monk undergoing discipline.] but these excesses were by no means confined to the monks. the norman barons and gentry adopted many of the manners of the english among whom they lived, and especially was this the case in regard to the drinking customs of christmastide. instead of commending the normans of his time for their sobriety, as he might have done their ancestors, peter of blois, who was chaplain to henry ii., says: "when you behold our barons and knights going upon a military expedition you see their baggage horses loaded, not with iron but wine, not with lances but cheeses, not with swords but bottles, not with spears but spits. you would imagine they were going to prepare a great feast rather than to make war. there are even too many who boast of their excessive drunkenness and gluttony, and labour to acquire fame by swallowing great quantities of meat and drink." the earliest existing carol known to antiquaries is in the anglo-norman language, and contains references to the drinking customs of the period:-- "to english ale, and gascon wine, and french, doth christmas much incline-- and anjou's too; he makes his neighbour freely drink, so that in sleep his head doth sink often by day. may joys flow from god above to all those who christmas love. lords, by christmas and the host of this mansion hear my toast-- drink it well-- each must drain his cup of wine, and i the first will toss off mine: thus i advise, here then i bid you all _wassail_, cursed be he who will not say drinkhail."[ ] [illustration: wassailing at christmastide.] proceeding with our historical narrative we come now to [illustration] the romantic reign of richard the first, surnamed coeur de lion, the second son of henry ii. and eleanor of aquitaine, who succeeded to the english throne on the death of his father in . richard is generally supposed to have derived his surname from a superiority of animal courage; but, if the metrical romance bearing his name, and written in the thirteenth century, be entitled to credit, he earned it nobly and literally, by plucking out the heart of a lion, to whose fury he had been exposed by the duke of austria for having slain his son with a blow of his fist. in the numerous descriptions afforded by the romance richard is a most imposing personage. he is said to have carried with him to the crusades, and to have afterwards presented to tancred, king of sicily, the wonder-working sword of king arthur-- "the gude sword caliburne that arthur luffed so well." he is also said to have carried a shaft, or lance, feet in length, and "an axe for the nones, to break therewith the sarasyns bones. the head was wrought right wele, therein was twenty pounds of steel." but, without attempting to follow richard through all the brilliant episodes of his romantic career, there can be no doubt that he was a king of great strength and courage, and that his valorous deeds won the admiration of poets and chroniclers, who have surrounded him with a splendid halo of romance. contemporary writers tell us that while richard kept magnificent christmases abroad with the king of sicily and other potentates, his justiciars (especially the extravagant william longchamp, bishop of ely) were no less lavish in their expenditure for festive entertainments at home. and the old romance of "richard coeur de lion" assures us that-- "christmas is a time full honest; kyng richard it honoured with gret feste. all his clerks and barouns were set in their pavylouns, and seryed with grete plenté of mete and drink and each dainté." there is no doubt that the crusades had a vast influence upon our literary tastes, as well as upon the national manners and the festivities of christmastide. on their return from the holy land the pilgrims and crusaders brought with them new subjects for theatrical representation, founded on the objects of their devotion and the incidents in their wars, and these found expression in the early mysteries and other plays of christmastide--that of st. george and the dragon, which survived to modern times, probably owing its origin to this period. it is to richard coeur de lion that we are indebted for the rise of chivalry in england. it was he who developed tilts and tournaments, and under his auspices these diversions assumed a military air, the genius of poetry flourished, and the fair sex was exalted in admiration. how delightful was it then, beneath the inspiring gaze of the fair-- "sternly to strike the quintin down; or fiercely storm some turf-formed town; to rush with valour's doughty sway, against a babylon of clay; a memphis shake with furious shock, or raze some flower-built antioch!"[ ] on the death of richard, in , his brother john was crowned king of england. the youngest and favourite son of henry ii., john, was humoured in childhood and grew to be an arrogant and petulant man, and was one of the worst of english kings. he possessed ability, but not discipline. he could neither govern himself nor his kingdom. he was tyrannical and passionate, and spent a good deal of time in the gratification of his animal appetites. he was fond of display and good living, and extravagant in his christmas entertainments. when, in , he kept christmas at guildford he taxed his purse and ingenuity in providing all his servitors with costly apparel, and he was greatly annoyed because the archbishop of canterbury, in a similar fit of sumptuary extravagance, sought to outdo his sovereign. john, however, cunningly concealed his displeasure at the time, but punished the prelate by a costly celebration of the next easter festival at canterbury at the archbishop's expense. in consequence of john's frequent quarrels with his nobles the attendance at his christmas feasts became smaller every year, until he could only muster a very meagre company around his festive board, and it was said that he had almost as many enemies as there were nobles in the kingdom. in john spent his christmas at the ancient town of brill, in the vale of aylesbury, and in he kept a royal christmas in the great hall at westminster. magna charta demanded at a christmas festival. the christmas of is memorable in english history as the festival at which the barons demanded from king john that document which as the foundation of our english liberties is known to us by the name of _magna charta_, that is, the great charter. john's tyranny and lawlessness had become intolerable, and the people's hope hung on the fortunes of the french campaign in which he was then engaged. his defeat at the battle of bouvines, fought on july , , gave strength to his opponents; and after his return to england the barons secretly met at st. edmundsbury and swore to demand from him, if needful by force of arms, the restoration of their liberties by charter under the king's seal. having agreed to assemble at the court for this purpose during the approaching festival of christmas they separated. when christmas day arrived john was at worcester, attended only by a few of his immediate retainers and some foreign mercenaries. none of his great vassals came, as was customary at christmas, to offer their congratulations. his attendants tried in vain to assume an appearance of cheerfulness and festivity; but john, alarmed at the absence of the barons, hastily rode to london and there shut himself up in the house of the knights templars. on the feast of the epiphany the barons assembled in great force at london and presenting themselves in arms before the king formally demanded his confirmation of the laws of edward the confessor and henry i. at first john assumed a bold and defiant air and met the barons with an absolute refusal and threats; but, finding the nobles were firm, he sank to the meanness of subterfuge, and pleaded the necessity of time for the consideration of demands so weighty. with some reluctance the barons granted the delay, and ultimately, in , the tyrant bowed to the inevitable, called the barons to a conference at runnymede, and there signed the great charter, whose most important clauses protect the personal liberty and property of every freeman in the kingdom by giving security from arbitrary imprisonment and unjust exactions. [ ] "short history of the norman conquest." [ ] wassail and drinkhail are both derived from the anglo-saxon. they were the common drinking pledges of the age. wassail is equivalent to the phrase, "your health," of the present day. drinkhail, which literally signifies "drink health," was the usual acknowledgment of the other pledge. the carol from which the verses are quoted was evidently sung by the wandering minstrels who visited the castles of the norman nobility at the festive season of christmas. [ ] grattan. [illustration] chapter v. christmas, from magna charta to the end of the wars of the roses. ( - .) soon after the disaster which overtook john's army at the wash the king ended his wretched career by death. he died on october , , in the castle of newark on the trent, and the old chroniclers describe him as dying in an extremity of agony and remorse. henry the third, sometimes called "henry of winchester," came to the throne in troublous times, before he was ten years of age. the tyranny of his father had alienated every class of his subjects, and the barons who had obtained magna charta from king john had called in louis of france. but through the conciliatory measures of the regent pembroke towards the barons, and the strong support which the roman church gave the boy-king (whose father had meanly done homage to the pope), the foreigners were expelled, and the opposition of the barons was suppressed for a time, though in later years they again struggled with the crown for supremacy of power. when henry had grown to manhood and the responsibility of government rested upon his own shoulders, he still exulted in the protection of the holy see, which found in him a subservient vassal. he fasted during lent, but feasted right royally both at christmas and easter. in he kept a grand christmas in the great hall at westminster, and other royal christmases were celebrated at windsor castle and at his palace at winchester. he made large additions to windsor castle, and some of his mandates giving minute directions for the decoration of his palace at winchester are still preserved. he enjoyed the old plays and ballets of christmastide introduced from france at this period. [illustration: royal party dining in state.] henry the third's most splendid christmas was in the twentieth year of his reign, when he welcomed eleanor, daughter of the count of provence, to whom he was married on january , . the youthful princess left provence amidst the rejoicings of the whole kingdom. she was accompanied by henry's ambassadors and a grand cavalcade, in which were more than three hundred ladies on horseback. her route lay through navarre and france. on reaching england, at dover, the princess and her train proceeded to canterbury, where henry awaited their coming. it was in that ancient city that the royal pair were married by the archbishop edmund and the prelates who accompanied eleanor. from canterbury the newly-wedded king and queen set out for london, attended by a splendid array of nobles, prelates, knights and ladies. on the th of january, eleanor was crowned at westminster with great splendour. matthew paris, the historian, gives an interesting description of the royal procession, and the loyal welcome of the citizens of london: "there had assembled together so great a number of the nobility of both sexes, so great a number of religious orders, so great a concourse of the populace, and so great a variety of players, that london could scarcely contain them in her capacious bosom. therefore was the city adorned with silk hangings, and with banners, crowns, palls, tapers, and lamps, and with certain marvellous ingenuities and devices; all the streets being cleaned from dirt, mud, sticks and everything offensive. the citizens of london going to meet the king and queen, ornamented and trapped and wondrously sported their swift horses; and on the same day they went from the city to westminster, that they might discharge the service of butler to the king in his coronation, which is acknowledged to belong to them of ancient right. they went in well-marshalled array, adorned in silken vestments, wrapped in gold-woven mantles, with fancifully-devised garments, sitting on valuable horses refulgent with new bits and saddles: and they bore three hundred and sixty gold and silver cups, the king's trumpeters going before and sounding their trumpets; so that so wonderful a novelty produced a laudable astonishment in the spectators." the literary monk of st. albans also describes the splendour of the feast, and the order of the service of the different vassals of the crown, many of whom were called upon at the coronation to perform certain peculiar services. according to the ancient city records, "these served in order in that most elegant and unheard-of feast: the bishop of chichester, the chancellor, with the cup of precious stones, which was one of the ancient regalia of the king, clothed in his pontificals, preceded the king, who was clad in royal attire, and wearing the crown. hugh de pateshall walked before with the patine, clothed in a dalmatica; and the earls of chester, lincoln, and warren, bearing the swords, preceded him. but the two renowned knights, sir richard siward and sir nicholas de molis, carried the two royal sceptres before the king; and the square purple cloth of silk, which was supported upon four silver lances, with four little bells of silver gilt, held over the king wherever he walked, was carried by the barons of the cinque ports; four being assigned to each lance, from the diversity of ports, that one port should not seem to be preferred before the other. the same in like manner bore a cloth of silk over the queen, walking behind the king, which said cloths they claimed to be theirs by right, and obtained them. and william de beauchamp of bedford, who had the office of almoner from times of old, found the striped cloth or _burel_, which was laid down under the king's feet as he went from the hall as far as the pulpit of the church of westminster; and that part of the cloth that was _within_ the church always fell to the sexton in whatever church the king was crowned; and all that was _without_ the church was distributed among the poor, by the hands of william the almoner." the ancient records contain many other particulars respecting the ceremonies which graced the marriage feast of henry and eleanor of provence, but enough has been quoted to show the magnificence of the celebration. year by year, as the christmas festival came round, it was royally celebrated wherever the court happened to be, even though the king had to pledge his plate and jewels with the citizens of london to replenish his exchequer. but henry's royal christmases did not allay the growing disaffection of his subjects on account of his showing too much favour to foreigners; and some of the barons who attended the royal christmas at westminster in , left in high dudgeon, because the place of honour at the banquet was occupied by the papal legate, then about to leave england, "to the sorrow of no man but the king." in , henry gave in marriage his beautiful daughter margaret, to alexander, king of the scots, and held his christmas at the same time. the city of york was the scene of the regal festivities. the marriage took place on christmas day, the bridegroom and many of his nobles receiving knighthood at the hands of the english king. henry seems to have conciliated the english barons for a time, for most of them were present at the marriage festivities, and he counted a thousand knights in his train; while alexander brought sixty splendidly-attired scottish knights with him. that the banqueting was on no mean scale is evident from the fact that six hundred fat oxen were slaughtered for the occasion, the gift of the archbishop of york, who also subscribed four thousand marks (£ , ) towards the expenses. the consumption of meats and drinks at such feasts was enormous. an extant order of henry's, addressed to his keeper of wines, directs him to deliver two tuns of white and one of red wine, to make garhiofilac and claret 'as usual,' for the king at christmas; and upon another occasion the sheriffs of gloucestershire and sussex were called upon to supply part of the necessary provisions; the first named being directed to get twenty salmon, and make pies of them; while the latter was instructed to send ten peacocks, ten brawns with their heads, and other things. and all this provision was necessary, for while henry feasted the rich, he did not forget the poor. when he kept his christmas at winchester in , he ordered his treasurer to fill westminster hall with poor people, and feast them there for a week. twenty years afterwards, he kept his royal christmas in london for fifteen days, opening a fair meantime at westminster, and forbidding any shop to be opened in london as long as the festival lasted. this prohibition of business naturally displeased the citizens of london, but the king would not withdraw his prohibition until they agreed to make him a present of two thousand pounds, upon the receipt of which the prohibition was withdrawn. we cannot pass over this period without reference to the summoning of the first english parliament, which was a great event of christmastide. the barons' wars interfered seriously with the christmas festivities, but they solved the problem of how to ensure the government of the realm in accordance with the provisions of the great charter. the king (henry iii.) had sworn again and again to observe the charter, but his oath was no sooner taken than it was unscrupulously broken. the barons, with the patriotic simon de montfort at their head, were determined to uphold the rights of the people, and insisted on the king's compliance with the provisions of the charter; and this struggle with the crown yielded one of the greatest events of christmastide: the summoning of the first national parliament. by summoning the representatives of the cities and boroughs to sit beside the knights of the shires, the barons and the bishops in the parliament of the realm, simon de montfort created a new force in english politics. this first national assembly met at westminster, in january, , while the king was a prisoner of earl simon. the form of national representation thus inaugurated had an immense influence on the rising liberties of the people, and has endured to our own times. it is not surprising, therefore, that the adoption of this measure by the great earl of leicester invested his memory with a lustre which has not been dimmed by the lapse of centuries. the paltering of the king called forth the patriotism of the people. "so may a glory from defect arise." the sevenfold lustre of the rainbow is only seen when there is rain as well as sun. "only the prism's obstruction shows aright the secret of a sunbeam, breaks its light into the jewelled bow from blankest white; so may a glory from defect arise."[ ] [illustration] the death of robin hood on christmas eve. the famous freebooter, robin hood, who, according to tradition, flourished in sherwood forest in the distracted reign of henry the third, is said to have died on christmas eve, in the year . the career of this hero of many popular ballads is not part of our subject, though hone[ ] records his death as a christmas event; and stowe, writing in , evidently believes in robin hood as an historical personage, for he says, "he suffered no woman to be oppressed ... poor men's goods he spared, abundantly relieving them with that which by theft he got from the abbeys, and the houses of rich old earles." from the doubtful doings of the romantic chief and his band of freebooters, we now pass on to the reign of edward the first. [illustration] edward the first was in the truest sense a national king. he was english to the core, and he won the love of his people by his bravery, justice, and good government. he joined freely in the national sports and pastimes, and kept the christmas festival with great splendour. there was much of the chivalric in his character, and he shared to the full his people's love of hard fighting. he was invested with the honour of knighthood and went to foreign courts to display his prowess. matthew of westminster states that while edward was travelling in france, he heard that a lord of burgundy was continually committing outrages on the persons and property of his neighbours. in the true spirit of chivalry edward attacked the castle of the uncourteous baron. his prowess asserted the cause of justice, and he bestowed the domains which he had won upon a nobler lord. for the sake of acquiring military fame he exposed himself to great dangers in the holy land, and, during his journey homeward, saved his life by sheer fighting in a tournament at challon. at his "round table of kenilworth" a hundred lords and ladies "clad all in silk" renewed the faded glories of arthur's court, and kept christmas with great magnificence. in , llewellyn, prince of wales, bidden from his mountain fastnesses "with a kiss of peace," sat a guest at the christmas feast of edward, but he was soon to fall the last defender of his weeping country's independence in unequal battle with the english king. in - , edward kept his feast of christmas at worcester, and there was "such a frost and snow as no man living could remember the like." rivers were frozen over, even including the thames and severn; fish in ponds, and birds in woods died for want of food; and on the breaking up of the ice five of the arches of old london bridge were carried away by the stream, and the like happened to many other bridges. in edward kept his christmas at oxford, but the honour was accompanied by an unpleasant episode in the hanging of the mayor by the king's command. in , , and , edward the first kept royal christmases in the great hall at westminster. on his way to scotland, in the year , the king witnessed the christmas ceremonial of the boy bishop. he permitted one of the boy bishops to say vespers before him in his chapel at heton, near newcastle-upon-tyne, and made a present to the performers of forty shillings, no inconsiderable sum in those days. during his scotch wars, in , edward, on the approach of winter, took up his quarters in linlithgow, where he built a castle and kept his christmas; and during his reign he celebrated the festival at other places not usually so honoured--namely, bury, ipswich, bristol, berwick, carlisle, and lincoln. edward the second succeeded his father in , being the fourth son of edward i. and eleanor of castile. he took great delight in the christmas revels and expended large sums of money in the entertainment of his court favourites. in he kept his christmas at york, rejoicing in the presence of piers gaveston, whom he had recalled from banishment in utter disregard of advice given to him by his father (edward i.) on his death-bed. edward ii. kept his christmas in the great hall at westminster in , when, however, few nobles were present, "because of discord betwixt them and the king;" but in the royal christmas was kept at westminster "with great honour and glorie." in - the king's christmas was sumptuously observed at nottingham, but the following year found edward a prisoner at kenilworth, while his wife, who had successfully intrigued with roger mortimer, leader of the barons, observed the christmas festivities with her son at wallingford, glad at the downfall of her husband. edward was an irresolute and weak-minded king. he displayed singular incapacity for government, wasting almost all his time in frivolous amusements. the chief characteristics of his reign were defeat and disgrace abroad, and misrule ending in misery at home. instead of following the example of his noble father, edward i., who has been deservedly styled "the greatest of the plantagenets," he proved himself the weakest of that line of kings, spending his time in such trifling diversions as "cross and pile," a game of chance with coins. he was so utterly devoid of self-respect that he even borrowed money of his barber to carry on this frivolous pastime, such items as the following being found in his wardrobe rolls:--"item, paid to henry, the king's barber, for money which he lent the king to play at cross and pile, five shillings. item, paid to pires barnard, usher of the king's chamber, money which he lent the king, and which he lost at cross and pile; to monsieur robert wattewille eightpence." at length the barons, tired of edward's misgovernment, revolted, and made the king a prisoner. during the christmas festival of , edward was imprisoned in kenilworth castle. while there he was informed that in a parliament held at westminster, during christmas - , he was deposed, and his son edward, then only fourteen years of age, elected in his stead. on the st of september in the same year edward ii. ended his miserable career in berkeley castle, being, it is supposed, cruelly murdered by his keepers. edward the third's coronation festivities were a sumptuous enlargement of the christmas celebration, which usually extended over twelfth night. it is said that the banqueting cost the equivalent of forty thousand pounds of our money; and before the young king there appeared quite a multitude of minstrels, mimics, and gleemen. professor henry morley[ ] gives a specimen of the metrical romances which were translated from the french for recitation at the royal and noble banquets of this period. they were "busy with action, and told with a lively freedom;" and, in the one quoted, "the fabliau of sir cleges," we catch some interesting references to the celebration of christmas:-- "every year sir cleges would at christmás a great feast hold in worship of that day, as royál in allé thing as he haddé been a king for sooth as i you say. rich and poor in the country about should be there withouten doubt; there would no man say nay. minstrels would not be behind, for there they might most mirthés find there would they be aye. "minstrels when the feast was done withouten giftés should not gon, and that both rich and good: horsé, robes and riché ring, gold, silver, and other thing, to mend with their mood. ten yearé such feast be held, in the worship of mary mild and for him that died on the rood. by that his good began to slake for the great feasts that he did make. the knight gentil of blood." "kepe open court" at christmas. froissart, in cap. xiiii. of his "chronicles,"[ ] gives the following account of the christmas celebration at which edward the third was crowned:-- "after that the most part of the company of heynaulte were departed, and syr john heynaulte lorde of beamonde taryed, the quene gave leve to her people to departe, savynge a certayne noble knightis the whiche she kept styl about her and her s[=o]ne, to counsell them, and commaunded all them that departed, to be at london the next christmas, for as than she was determyned to kepe open court, and all they promysed her so to do. and whan christmas was come, she helde a great court. and thyther came dukes, erles, barons, knightis, and all the nobles of the realme, with prelates, and burgesses of good townes, and at this assemble it was advised that the realme coud nat long endure without a head and a chief lord. than they put in wrytynge all the dedis of the kyng who was in prison, and all that he had done by evyll counsell, and all his usages, and evyll behavyngis, and how evyll he had governed his realme, the which was redde openly in playn audience, to thentent that the noble sagis of the realme might take therof good advyce, and to fall at acorde how the realme shuld be governed from thensforth; and whan all the cases and dedis that the kyng had done and c[=o]sented to, and all his behavyng and usages were red, and wel understand, the barons and knightis and al ye co[=u]sels of the realme, drew them aparte to co[=u]sell, and the most part of them accorded, and namely the great lordes and nobles, with the burgesses of ye good townes, accordyng as they had hard say, and knew themselfe the most parte of his dedis. wherfore they c[=o]cluded that such a man was nat worthy to be a kyng. but they all accorded that edward his eldeste son who was ther present, and was ryghtful heyre, shuld be crowned kyng in stede of his father, so that he would take good counsell, sage and true about hym, so that the realme from thensforth myght be better governed than it was before, and that the olde kyng his father shuld be well and honestly kept as long as he lyved accordyng to his astate; and thus as it was agreed by all the nobles, so it was accomplysshed, and than was crowned with a crowne royall at the palaice of westminster, beside l[=o]don, the yong kyng edward the iii. who in his dayes after was right fortunate and happy in armes. this coronacion was in the yere of our lorde mcccxxvi, on christymas day, and as than the yong kyng was about the age of xvi., and they held the fest tyl the c[=o]vercion of saynt paule followyng: and in the mean tyme greatly was fested sir john of heynaulte and all the princis and nobles of his co[=u]tre, and was gyven to hym, and to his company, many ryche jewels. and so he and his company in great feast and solas both with lordis and ladyes taried tyll the xii. day." edward balliol, of scotland, defeated at christmas. the christmas of is memorable in scottish annals as the time of the defeat of edward balliol, the "phantom king" of scotland. his success was as unreal as a dream. he was solemnly crowned at scone in the month of september, , fondly imagining that he had permanently conquered the patriotic scottish nobles who had opposed him. his reign, however, only lasted for a few months. the leaders of the national party suddenly assembled a force, and attacked him, while he was feasting at annan, in dumfriesshire, where he had gone to keep his christmas. a body of horse under sir archibald, the young earl of moray, and sir simon fraser, made a dash into the town to surprise balliol, and he escaped only by springing upon a horse without any saddle, leaving behind him his brother henry slain. balliol escaped to england and was kindly received by edward iii., who afterwards made fresh expeditions into scotland to support him. "whenever the english king appeared the scots retired to their mountain fastnesses, while edward and his army overran the country with little opposition, burnt the houses, and laid waste the lands of those whom he styled rebels; but whenever he returned to england they came forth again, only the more embittered against the contemptible minion of the english king, the more determined against the tyranny of england. the regent, sir andrew murray, pursued, with untiring activity, balliol and his adherents. when edward marched homeward to spend in london the christmas of , he left scotland to all appearance prostrate, and flattered himself that it was completely subdued. never was it further from such a condition. only one spirit animated the scottish nation--that of eternal resistance to the monarch who had inflicted on it such calamities, and set a slave on its throne."[ ] cottage christmas-keeping in the fourteenth century. at this period the greatest of the bishops of winchester, william of wykeham, was a schoolboy. he was born of humble parents, educated at winchester school, and afterwards became secretary to uvedale, lord of wickham manor, through whom he was introduced to king edward iii. in his interesting "story of the boyhood of william of wykeham," the rev. w. a. c. chevalier thus pictures william's christmas holidays:-- "three days after william's arrival home was christmas-eve. there were great preparations in the cottage for spending christmas worthily, for if there was one thing more than another that john longe believed in, it was the proper keeping of christmas. it was a part of the worthy yeoman's faith. he was a humble and thorough believer in all the tenets of christianity, he worshipped the saviour and adored his nativity, but his faith was a cheerful one, and he thought he best honoured his master by enjoying the good gifts which he sent. hence it was a part of his creed to be jovial at christmas-tide. and so dame alice had been busy all that day, and a part of the day before, making christmas pies, dressing christmas meats, and otherwise making ready for the great festival. john longe, too, had not been idle. he and his men had been working hard all day getting in huge yule-logs for the great kitchen fire, whilst william and little agnes had been employed in decorating the kitchen with evergreens and mistletoe, displaying in great profusion the red berries of the holly bushes. everything was decked with evergreens, from the cups and platters on the shelves to the hams and bacon hanging from the ceiling." at length the preparations were completed; then came the telling of tales and cheerful gossip round the blazing fire on christmas eve, and the roasting of chestnuts on the embers. "christmas day passed at the little homestead with all the social and religious honours that the honest yeoman could think of. the little household attended the service of mass in the morning, and then, with clear consciences and simple hearts, spent the rest of the day in domestic and convivial enjoyment." returning to royalty, we next see illustrated froissart's statement that "edward the third was right fortunate and happy in armes." edward the third's victories and festivities. [illustration] during the invasion of france, edward iii. raised the martial glory of england by his splendid victories at crecy, poictiers, and other places; and he kept christmas right royally with his soldiers on french soil. after the battle of crecy, at which the prince of wales gained the celebrated title of the black prince, edward marched upon calais, and laid siege to it; and at length he took the place. during edward's absence, england was invaded by david ii. of scotland, who was defeated and taken prisoner by the army under philippa, edward's queen. the brave queen then joined king edward on the french battle-ground, and they kept the christmas of with much rejoicing. during the christmas festivities of this period the most noble order of the garter was instituted by king edward iii. to excite emulation amongst the aristocratic warriors of the time, in imitation of orders of a similar kind, both religious and military, which had been instituted by different monarchs of europe; and that those who were admitted to the order were enjoined to exalt the religion of christ is evident from some lines which chaucer addressed to the lords and knights-- "do forth, do forth, continue your succour, hold up christ's banner, let it not fall." and again-- "ye lordis eke, shining in noble fame, to which appropered is the maintenance of christ 'is cause; in honour of his name, shove on, and put his foes to utterance." in imitation of king arthur, edward iii. set up at windsor a round table, which was consecrated with feasts and tournaments, and baptized with the blood of the brave. on new year's day, , he issued his royal letters of protection for the safe-coming and return of foreign knights to the solemn jousts which he appointed to be held at windsor on st. hilary's day, in extension of the christmas festivities. the festival was opened with a splendid supper; and the next day, and until lent, all kinds of knightly feats of arms were performed. "the queen and her ladies," says an old historian, "that they might with more convenience behold this spectacle, were orderly seated upon a firm ballustrade, or scaffold, with rails before it, running all round the lists. and certainly their extraordinary beauties, set so advantageously forth with excessive riches of apparel, did prove a sight as full of pleasant encouragement to the combatants, as the fierce hacklings of men and horses, gallantly armed, were a delightful terror to the feminine beholders." [illustration: ladies looking from the hustings upon the tournament.] in edward iii. kept a grand christmas at guildford. "orders were given to manufacture for the christmas sports eighty tunics of buckram of different colours, and a large number of masks--some with faces of women, some with beards, some like angel heads of silver. there were to be mantles embroidered with heads of dragons, tunics wrought with heads and wings of peacocks, and embroidered in many other fantastic ways. the celebration of christmas lasted from all hallow's eve, the st of october, till the day after the purification, the rd of february. at the court a lord of misrule was appointed, who reigned during the whole of this period, and was called 'the master of merry disports.' he ruled over and organised all the games and sports, and during the period of his rule there was nothing but a succession of masques, disguisings, and dances of all kinds. all the nobles, even the mayor of london, had an officer of this kind chosen in their households. dancing was a very favourite amusement. it was practised by the nobility of both sexes. the damsels of london spent their evenings in dancing before their masters' doors, and the country lasses danced upon the village green."[ ] [illustration: the lord of misrule.] a royal christmas was kept at westminster, with great splendour, in , when king edward had two crowned guests at his feast; but these were present from no choice of their own: they were the victims to the fortune of war at poictiers and neville's cross. and in , king david of scotland and the king of cyprus met at king edward's grand entertainments. the later years of his life were spent by this great warrior-king in partial retirement from public affairs, and under the influence of his mistress, alice perrers, while john of gaunt took a leading part in the government of the state. in edward the black prince died, and the same year king edward iii. kept his last christmas at westminster, the festival being made memorable by all the nobles of the realm attending to swear fealty to the son of the black prince, who, by the king's desire, took precedence of his uncles at the banquet as befitted the heir apparent to the crown. the king died on the st of june, , having reigned for just over half a century. the old chronicler, stowe, refers to a terrible christmas tempest, which he says occurred in : "the king held his christmas at windsore, and the xv. day following a sore and vehement south-west winde brake forth, so hideous that it overthrew high houses, towers, steeples, and trees, and so bowed them, that the residue which fell not, but remained standing, were the weaker." king edward the third's wardrobe accounts witness to the costly christmas robes that were worn at this period. and these accounts also show that alice perrers was associated with the king's daughter and granddaughter in the christmas entertainments. there are items in stating that the king's daughter isabella (styled countess of bedford), and her daughter (afterwards wife of vere, earl of oxford), were provided with rich garments trimmed with ermine, in the fashion of the robes of the garter, and with others of shaggy velvet, trimmed with the same fur, for the christmas festival; while articles of apparel equally costly are registered as sent by the king to his chamber at shene, to be given to alice perrers. and at a festival at windsor the king caused twelve ladies (including his daughters and alice perrers) to be clothed in handsome hunting suits, with ornamented bows and arrows, to shoot at the king's deer; and a very attractive band of foresters they made. we have also seen that eighty costly tunics were provided for the christmas sports and disguisings at guildford. we now come to a comically cruel christmas incident, recorded by sir john froissart, and which he says gave "great joye" to the hilarious "knightes and squyers" who kept the festival with "the erle of foiz":-- "so it was on a christmas day the erle of foiz helde a great feest, and a plentifull of knightes and squyers, as it is his usage; and it was a colde day, and the erle dyned in the hall, and with him great company of lordes; and after dyner he departed out of the hall, and went up into a galarye of xxiiii stayres of heyght, in which galarye ther was a great chymney, wherin they made fyre whan therle was ther; and at that tyme there was but a small fyre, for the erle loved no great fyre; howbeit, he hadde woode ynoughe there about, and in bierne is wode ynoughe. the same daye it was a great frost and very colde: and when the erle was in the galarye, and saw the fyre so lytell, he sayde to the knightes and squiers about hym, sirs, this is but a small fyre, and the day so colde: than ernalton of spayne went downe the stayres, and beneth in the courte he sawe a great meny of asses, laden with woode to serve the house: than he went and toke one of the grettest asses, with all the woode, and layde hym on his backe, and went up all the stayres into the galary, and dyde cast downe the asse with all the woode into the chymney, and the asses fete upward; wherof the erle of foiz had great joye, and so hadde all they that were there, and had marveyle of his strength howe he alone came up all the stayres with the asse and the woode in his necke." [illustration] passing on to the reign of richard the second, the son of edward the black prince and joan of kent, who came to the throne (in tutelage) on the death of his grandfather, edward iii. ( ), we find that costly banquetings, disguisings, pageants, and plays continued to be the diversions of christmastide at court. from the rolls of the royal wardrobe, it appears that at the christmas festival in , the sages of the law were made subjects for disguisements, this entry being made: "pro xxi _coifs_ de tela linea pro hominibus de lege contrafactis pro ludo regis tempore natalis domini anno xii." that is, for twenty-one linen coifs for counterfeiting men of the law in the king's play at christmas. and strutt[ ] says that in the same year ( ) the parish clerks of london put forth a play at skinners' wells, near smithfield, which continued three days: the king, queen, and many of the nobility, being present at the performance. [illustration: [on one side is the legend, moneta nova adriani stvltorv pape, the last e being in the field of the piece, on which is represented the pope, with his double cross and tiara, with a fool in full costume approaching his bauble to the pontifical cross, and two persons behind, who form part of his escort. on the reverse is a "mother fool," with her bauble, attended by a grotesque person with a cardinal's hat, with the oft-recurring legend, stvltorv infinitvs est nvmervs.]] but the miracle plays and mysteries performed by the churchmen differed greatly from the secular plays and interludes which at this period "were acted by strolling companies of minstrels, jugglers, tumblers, dancers, bourdours, or jesters, and other performers properly qualified for the different parts of the entertainment, which admitted of a variety of exhibitions. these pastimes are of higher antiquity than the ecclesiastical plays; and they were much relished not only by the vulgar part of the people, but also by the nobility. the courts of the kings of england, and the castles of the great earls and barons, were crowded with the performers of the secular plays, where they were well received and handsomely rewarded; vast sums of money were lavishly bestowed upon these secular itinerants, which induced the monks and other ecclesiastics to turn actors themselves, in order to obtain a share of the public bounty. but to give the better colouring to their undertaking, they took the subjects of their dialogues from the holy writ, and performed them in the churches. the secular showmen, however, retained their popularity notwithstanding the exertions of their clerical rivals, who diligently endeavoured to bring them into disgrace, by bitterly inveighing against the filthiness and immorality of their exhibitions. on the other hand, the itinerant players sometimes invaded the province of the churchmen, and performed their mysteries, or others similar to them, as we find from a petition presented to richard ii. by the scholars of st. paul's school, wherein complaint is made against the secular actors, because they took upon themselves to act plays composed from the scripture history, to the great prejudice of the clergy, who had been at much expense to prepare such performances for public exhibition at the festival of christmas." [illustration: a court fool.] in his christmas feasts richard the second outdid his predecessors in prodigal hospitality. he delighted in the neighbourhood of eltham, and spent much of his time in feasting with his favourites at the royal palace there. in (notwithstanding the still prevalent distress, which had continued from the time of the peasant revolt) richard kept the christmas festivities at eltham with great extravagance, at the same time entertaining leon, king of armenia, in a manner utterly unjustified by the state of the royal exchequer, which had been replenished by illegal methods. and, on the completion of his enlargements and embellishments of westminster hall, richard reopened it with "a most royal christmas feast" of twenty-eight oxen and three hundred sheep, and game and fowls without number, feeding ten thousand guests for many days. yet but a few years afterwards (such is the fickleness of fortune and the instability of human affairs) this same king, who had seen the "merciless parliament," who had robbed hereford of his estates, who had been robed in cloth of gold and precious stones, and who had alienated his subjects by his own extravagance, was himself deposed and sentenced to lifelong banishment, his doom being pronounced in the very hall which he had reared to such magnificence for his own glory. thus ingloriously richard disappears from history, for nothing certain is known of the time, manner, or place of his death, though it is conjectured that he was speedily murdered. how history repeats itself! richard's ignominious end recalls to mind the verse in which an english poet depicts the end of an eastern king who was too fond of revelling:-- "that night they slew him on his father's throne, the deed unnoticed and the hand unknown: crownless and sceptreless belshazzar lay, a robe of purple round a form of clay!" [illustration] grand christmas tournament. an example of the tournaments which were favourite diversions of kings and nobles at this period is found in that held at christmastide in london in . richard ii., his three uncles, and the greater barons having heard of a famous tournament at paris at the entry of isabel, queen of france, resolved to hold one of equal splendour at london, in which sixty english knights, conducted to the scene of action by sixty ladies, should challenge all foreign knights. they therefore sent heralds into all parts of england, scotland, germany, italy, flanders, brabant, hainault, and france to proclaim the time, place, and other circumstances of the proposed gathering, and to invite all valorous knights and squires to honour it with their presence. this, says the historian, excited a strong desire in the knights and squires of all these countries to attend to see the manners and equipages of the english, and others to tourney. the lists were prepared in smithfield, and chambers erected around them for the accommodation of the king, queen, princes, lords, ladies, heralds, and other spectators. as the time approached many important personages of both sexes, attended by numerous retinues, arrived in london. on the first day of the tournament (sunday) sixty-five horses, richly furnished for the jousts, issued one by one from the tower, each conducted by a squire of honour, and proceeded in a slow pace through the streets of london to smithfield, attended by a numerous band of trumpeters and other minstrels. immediately after, sixty young ladies, elegantly attired and riding on palfreys, issued from the same place, and each lady leading a knight completely armed by a silver chain, they proceeded slowly to the field. when they arrived there the ladies were lifted from the palfreys and conducted to the chambers provided for them; the knights mounted their horses and began the jousts, in which they exhibited such feats of valour and dexterity as won the admiration of the spectators. when the approach of night put an end to the jousts the company repaired to the palace of the bishop of london, in st. paul's street, where the king and queen then staying, the supper was prepared. the ladies, knights, and heralds who had been appointed judges awarded one of the prizes, a crown of gold, to the earl of st. paul as the best performer among the foreign knights, and the other, a rich girdle adorned with gold and precious stones, to the earl of huntingdon as the best performer of the english. after a sumptuous supper the ladies and knights spent the remainder of the night in dancing. the tournaments were continued in a similar manner on monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, and friday, and on saturday the court, with all the company, removed to windsor, where the jousts, feasting, and other diversions were renewed, and lasted several days longer. subsequently the king presented the foreign ladies, lords, and knights with valuable gifts, and they returned to their own countries highly pleased with the entertainment which they had enjoyed in england. king henry the fourth was born at bolingbroke, in lincolnshire, being the eldest son of john of gaunt and of his first wife, the heiress of the house of lancaster, and a grandson of edward iii. on the death of john of gaunt in , richard ii. seized his lands, having in the previous year banished henry of bolingbroke. on henry hearing what had occurred, knowing his own popularity and richard's unpopularity, henry returned from banishment, and succeeded in an attack on richard, whom he made a prisoner. then summoning a parliament, at which richard was formally deposed and himself made king, henry came to the throne with the title of henry iv. soon, however, he found himself menaced by danger. some of the lords who had been stripped of the honours and wealth heaped upon them by richard entered into a conspiracy to assassinate henry the usurper. during the christmas holidays they met frequently at the lodgings of the abbot of westminster to plan the king's destruction. after much deliberation they agreed to hold a splendid tournament at oxford on the rd of january, . henry was to be invited to preside, and while intent on the spectacle a number of picked men were to kill him and his sons. the king was keeping his christmas at windsor, whither the earl of huntingdon presented himself and gave him the invitation. henry accepted it, but on the nd of january, the day previous to the tournament, the earl of rutland, who was privy to the plot, went secretly to windsor and informed the king of the arrangements which had been made for his assassination. the same evening, after dusk, the king proceeded to london; and the next day when the conspirators assembled at oxford they were surprised to find that neither the king nor their own accomplice, rutland, had arrived. suspecting treachery they resolved to proceed at once to windsor and surprise henry, but arrived only to find that he had escaped. they afterwards raised the standard of revolt, but their insurrection proved abortive, and the fate of the leaders was summary and sanguinary. the favourite palace of henry the fourth was at eltham, where, in the second year of his reign, he kept a grand christmas, and entertained the emperor of constantinople. at this festival the men of london made a "gret mummyng to him of xii. aldermen and theire sones, for which they had gret thanke." similar festivities were observed at several subsequent festivals; then the king's health gave way, and he passed the last christmas of his life in seclusion at eltham, suffering from fits of epilepsy, and lying frequently for hours in an unconscious state. after candlemas he was so much better as to be able to return to his palace at westminster, but he died there on the th of march the same year ( ). the final scene and the parting words of the king to his son, who became henry v., have been beautifully depicted by shakespeare. king henry the fifth. in connection with the christmas festival in a conspiracy to murder the king is alleged against the lollards, but the charge has never been satisfactorily proved. "if we are to believe the chroniclers of the times the lollards resolved to anticipate their enemies, to take up arms and to repel force by force. seeing clearly that war to the death was determined against them by the church, and that the king had yielded at least a tacit consent to this iniquitous policy, they came to the conclusion to kill not only the bishops, but the king and all his kin. so atrocious a conspiracy is not readily to be credited against men who contended for a greater purity of gospel truth, nor against men of the practical and military knowledge of lord cobham. but over the whole of these transactions there hangs a veil of impenetrable mystery, and we can only say that the lollards are charged with endeavouring to surprise the king and his brother at eltham, as they were keeping their christmas festivities there, and that this attempt failed through the court receiving intimation of the design and suddenly removing to westminster."[ ] lord cobham was put to death by cruel torture in st. giles's fields, london, on christmas day, . in the early part of his reign henry invaded france and achieved a series of brilliant successes, including the famous victory at agincourt. the hero of this great battle did not allow the holiday season to interfere with his military operations; but he did generously suspend proceedings against rouen upon christmas day and supply his hungry foes with food for that day only, so that they might keep the feast of christmas. after his military successes in france henry married the princess katherine, the youngest daughter of charles vi., king of france, and the king and queen spent their first christmas of wedded life at paris, the festival being celebrated by a series of magnificent entertainments. henry's subsequent journey to england was "like the ovation of an ancient conqueror." he and his queen were received with great festivity at the different towns on their way, and on the st of february they left calais, and landed at dover, where, according to monstrelet, "katherine was received as if she had been an angel of god." all classes united to make the reception of the hero of agincourt and his beautiful bride a most magnificent one. they proceeded first to eltham, and thence, after due rest, to london, where katherine was crowned with great rejoicing on the th of february, . henry's brilliant career was cut short by his death on the last day of august, . "small time, but, in that small, most greatly liv'd this star of england: fortune made his sword; by which the world's best garden he achiev'd, and of it left his son imperial lord."[ ] fabian's account of the stately feast at the coronation of henry the fifth's newly-wedded consort is an interesting picture of the court life and christmas festivities of the period. queen katherine was conveyed to the great hall at westminster and there set to dinner. upon her right hand, at the end of the table, sat the archbishop of canterbury, and henry, surnamed the rich cardinal of winchester; and upon her left hand the king of scotland in his royal robes; near the end sat the duchess of york and the countess of huntingdon. the earl of march, holding a sceptre, knelt upon her right side, and the earl-marshal upon her left; his countess sat at the queen's left foot under the table, and the countess of kent at her right foot. humphrey, duke of gloucester, was overlooker, and stood before the queen bareheaded; sir richard nevill was carver, the earl of suffolk's brother cupbearer, sir john steward server, lord clifford panterer, lord willoughby butler, lord grey de ruthyn naperer, the lord audley almoner, and the earl of worcester, earl-marshal, rode about the hall during dinner on a charger, with a number of constables to keep order. the bill of fare consisted of: _first course_--brawn and mustard, dedells in burneaux, frument with balien, pike in erbage (pike stuffed with herbs), lamprey powdered, trout, codling, fried plaice and marling, crabs, leche lumbard flourished, and tarts. then came a subtlety representing a pelican sitting on her nest with her young and an image of st. katherine bearing a book and disputing with the doctors, bearing a reason (motto) in her right hand, saying, in the french apparently of stratford-at-the-bow, "madame le royne," and the pelican as an answer-- "ce est la signe et lu roy pur tenir ioy et a tout sa gent, elle mete sa entent." _second course_--jelly coloured with columbine flowers, white potage, or cream of almonds, bream of the sea, conger, soles, cheven, barbel with roach, fresh salmon, halibut, gurnets, broiled roach, fried smelt, crayfish or lobster, leche damask with the king's word or proverb flourished "_une sanz plus_." lamprey fresh baked, flampeyn flourished with an escutcheon royal, therein three crowns of gold, planted with flowers de luce, and flowers of camomile wrought of confections. then a subtlety representing a panther with an image of st. katherine having a wheel in one hand and a roll with a reason in the other, saying-- "la royne ma file, in ceste ile, par bon reson alues renoun." _third course_--dates in composite, cream mottled, carp, turbot, tench, perch, fresh sturgeon with whelks, porpoise roasted, memis fried, crayfish, prawns, eels roasted with lamprey, a leche called the white leche flourished with hawthorn leaves and red haws, and a march pane, garnished with figures of angels, having among them an image of st. katherine holding this reason-- "il est ecrit, pour voir et dit per mariage pur c'est guerre ne dure." and lastly, a subtlety representing a tiger looking into a mirror, and a man sitting on horseback fully armed, holding in his arms a tiger's whelp, with this reason, "par force sanz reson il ay pryse ceste beste," and with his one hand making a countenance of throwing mirrors at the great tiger, the which held this reason-- "gile de mirror, ma fete distour." [illustration: "marble panel florentine , s. kensington museum."] king henry the sixth became king in , before he was nine months old, and although the regency of the two kingdoms to which he was heir had been arranged by henry v. before his death, the reign of the third king of the house of lancaster saw the undoing of much that had been accomplished in the reigns of his father and grandfather. it was during the reign of henry vi. that joan of arc came forward alleging her divine commission to rescue france from the english invader. but it is not part of our subject to describe her heroic career. the troublous times which made the french heroine a name in history were unfavourable to christmas festivities. the royal christmases of henry the sixth were less costly than those of his immediate predecessors. but as soon as he was old enough to do so he observed the festival, as did also his soldiers, even in time of war. mills[ ] mentions that, "during the memorable siege of orleans [ - ], at the request of the english the festivities of christmas suspended the horrors of war, and the nativity of the saviour was commemorated to the sound of martial music. talbot, suffolk, and other ornaments of english chivalry made presents of fruits to the accomplished dunois, who vied with their courtesy by presenting to suffolk some black plush he wished for as a lining for his dress in the then winter season. the high-spirited knights of one side challenged the prowest knights of the other, as their predecessors in chivalry had done. it is observable, however, that these jousts were not held in honour of the ladies, but the challenge always declared that if there were in the other host a knight so generous and loving of his country as to be willing to combat in her defence, he was invited to present himself." [illustration: henry iv.'s cradle] in henry kept his christmas at bury, and in at kenilworth castle. nothing remarkable, however, is recorded respecting these festivities. but some interesting particulars have been preserved of a christmas play performed in at middleton tower, norfolk, the family seat of lord scales, one of the early owners of sandringham, which is now a residence of the prince of wales. mrs. herbert jones[ ] says:-- "one winter, when he was about forty-six years old, in a quiet interval soon after henry the sixth's marriage to margaret of anjou, lord scales and his wife were living at middleton. in a south-east direction lay the higher ground where rose the blackborough priory of nuns, founded by a previous lady scales; west of them, at three miles' distance, bristling with the architecture of the middle ages in all its bloom and beauty, before religious disunion had defaced it, prosperous in its self-government, stood the town of lynn. "the mayor and council had organised a play to be acted on christmas day, , before the lord scales at middleton, representing scenes from the nativity of our lord. large sums were paid by order of the mayor for the requisite dresses, ornaments, and scenery, some of which were supplied by the 'nathan' of lynn, and others prepared and bought expressly. 'john clerk' performed the angel gabriel, and a lady of the name of gilbert the virgin mary. their parts were to be sung. four other performers were also paid for their services, and the whole party, headed by the mayor, set off with their paraphernalia in a cart, harnessed to four or more horses, for middleton on christmas morning. the breakfast of the carters was paid for at the inn by the town, but the magnates from lynn and the actors were entertained at the castle.[ ] "it was in the courtyard that this quaint representation took place; the musical dialogues, the songs and hymns, the profusion of ornaments, personal and otherwise, recorded as pressed on to the stage, the grotesque angel and virgin, must have furnished a lively hour under the castle walls on that long-ago christmas day." the wars of the roses. during the destructive wars of york and lancaster the festivities of christmas were frequently interrupted by hostilities, for some of the most bloody encounters (as, for example, the terrible battle of wakefield) occurred at christmastide. the wars of the contending factions continued throughout the reign of henry vi., whose personal weakness left the house of lancaster at the mercy of the parliament, in which the voice of the barons was paramount. that the country was in a state of shameful misgovernment was shown by the attitude of the commercial class and the insurrection under john cade; yet henry could find time for amusement. "under pretence of change of air the court removed to coventry that the king might enjoy the sports of the field."[ ] the christmases of henry were not kept with the splendour which characterised those of his rival and successor, edward iv. henry's habits were religious, and his house expenses parsimonious--sometimes necessarily so, for he was short of money. from the introduction to the "paston letters" (edited by mr. james gairdner) it appears that the king was in such impecunious circumstances in that he had to borrow his expenses for christmas: "the government was getting paralysed alike by debt and by indecision. 'as for tidings here,' writes john bocking, 'i certify you all that is nought, or will be nought. the king borroweth his expenses.'" henry anticipated what ben jonson discovered in a later age, that-- "christmas is near; and neither good cheer, mirth, fooling, nor wit, nor any least fit of gambol or sport will come at the court, if there be no money." and so rather than leave christmas unobserved the poor king "borrowed his expenses." subsequently henry's health failed, and then later comes the record: "at christmas [ ], to the great joy of the nation, the king began to recover from his painful illness. he woke up, as it were, from a long sleep. so decidedly had he regained his faculties that on st. john's day ( th december) he commanded his almoner to ride to canterbury with an offering, and his secretary to present another at the shrine of st. edward."[ ] the terrible battle of wakefield at christmastide, , was one of the most important victories won by the lancastrians during the wars of the roses. the king, henry vi., had secretly encouraged richard, duke of york, that the nation would soon be ready to assent to the restoration of the legitimate branch of the royal family. richard was the son of anne mortimer, who was descended from philippa, the only daughter of the duke of clarence, second son of edward iii.; and consequently he stood in the order of succession before the king actually on the throne, who was descended from john of gaunt, a younger son of edward iii. the duke of york at length openly advanced his title as the true heir to the crown, and urged parliament to confer it upon him. as, however, the lancastrian branch of the royal family had enjoyed the crown for three generations it was resolved that henry vi. should continue to reign during his life and that richard should succeed him. this compromise greatly displeased the queen, margaret, who was indignant at the injury it inflicted on her son. she therefore urged the nobles who had hitherto supported her husband to take up arms on behalf of his son. accordingly the earl of northumberland, with lords dacre, clifford, and nevil, assembled an army at york, and were soon joined by the duke of somerset and the earl of devon. "parliament being prorogued in december, the duke of york and the earl of salisbury hastened from london with a large armed force towards york, but coming unexpectedly upon the troops of the duke of somerset at worksop, their vanguard was destroyed. on the st of december, however, they reached sandal castle with six thousand men, and kept their christmas there, notwithstanding that the enemy under the duke of somerset and the earl of northumberland were close by at pontefract" (_william wyrcester_). on the th of december the opposing forces met at wakefield, and in the terrible battle which ensued richard, duke of york was slain, his son, lord rutland, was murdered by lord clifford while escaping from the battlefield, and the earl of salisbury and others were taken as prisoners to pontefract, where they were beheaded. edward, son of richard duke of york, was afterwards joined by his cousin, richard, earl of warwick, the famous "kingmaker." they hastened northwards and met the lancastrians at towton, where a decisive battle was fought, and won by the yorkists. edward was then recognised by parliament and proclaimed king as edward iv., and henry vi. was attainted of high treason. in edward the fourth called his first parliament at westminster, and concluded the session by the unusual but popular measure of a speech from the throne to the commons delivered by himself. it was during this session that the statute was passed prohibiting the great and rich from giving or wearing any liveries or signs of companionship, except while serving under the king; from receiving or maintaining plunderers, robbers, malefactors, or unlawful hunters; and from allowing dice and cards in their houses beyond the twelve days of christmas (parl. rolls, ). the christmas festival was kept by edward iv. with great magnificence, the king's natural inclinations leading him to adopt whatever was splendid and costly. "at the christmas festivities he appeared in a variety of most costly dresses, of a form never seen before, which he thought displayed his person to considerable advantage" (_croyland chronicler_). sir frederick madden's narrative of the visit of the lord of granthuse, governor of holland, to edward, in , paints in glowing colours the luxury of the english court. on his arrival at windsor he was received by lord hastings, who conducted him to the chambers of the king and queen. these apartments were richly hung with cloth of gold arras. when he had spoken with the king, who presented him to the queen's grace, the lord chamberlain, hastings, was ordered to conduct him to his chamber, where supper was ready for him. "after he had supped the king had him brought immediately to the queen's own chamber, where she and her ladies were playing at the marteaux [a game played with small balls of different colours]; and some of her ladies were playing at closheys [ninepins] of ivory, and dancing, and some at divers other games: the which sight was full pleasant to them. also the king danced with my lady elizabeth, his eldest daughter. in the morning when matins was done, the king heard, in his own chapel, our lady-mass, which was most melodiously chaunted, the lord granthuse being present. when the mass was done, the king gave the said lord granthuse a cup of gold, garnished with pearl. in the midst of the cup was a great piece of unicorn's horn, to my estimation seven inches in compass; and on the cover of the cup a great sapphire." after breakfast the king came into the quadrangle. "my lord prince, also, borne by his chamberlain, called master vaughan, which bade the lord of granthuse welcome. then the king had him and all his company into the little park, where he made him have great sport; and there the king made him ride on his own horse, on a right fair hobby, the which the king gave him." the king's dinner was "ordained" in the lodge, windsor park. after dinner they hunted again, and the king showed his guest his garden and vineyard of pleasure. then "the queen did ordain a great banquet in her own chamber, at which king edward, her eldest daughter the lady elisabeth, the duchess of exeter, the lady rivers, and the lord of granthuse, all sat with her at one mess; and, at the same table, sat the duke of buckingham, my lady, his wife, with divers other ladies, my lord hastings, chamberlain to the king, my lord berners, chamberlain to the queen, the son of lord granthuse, and master george barthe, secretary to the duke of burgundy, louis stacy, usher to the duke of burgundy, george martigny, and also certain nobles of the king's own court. there was a side table, at which sat a great view (_show_) of ladies, all on the one side. also, in the outer chamber, sat the queen's gentlewomen, all on one side. and on the other side of the table, over against them, as many of the lord granthuse's servants, as touching to the abundant welfare, like as it is according to such a banquet. and when they had supped my lady elizabeth, the king's eldest daughter, danced with the duke of buckingham and divers other ladies also. then about nine of the clock, the king and the queen, with her ladies and gentlewomen, brought the said lord of granthuse to three chambers of plesance, all hanged with white silk and linen cloth, and all the floors covered with carpets. there was ordained a bed for himself of as good down as could be gotten. the sheets of rennes cloth and also fine fustians; the counterpane, cloth of gold, furred with ermines. the tester and ceiler also shining cloth of gold; the curtains of white sarcenet; as for his head-suit and pillows, they were of the queen's own ordonnance. in the second chamber was likewise another state-bed, all white. also, in the same chamber, was made a couch with feather beds, and hanged with a tent, knit like a net, and there was a cupboard. in the third chamber was ordained a bayne (_bath_) or two, which were covered with tents of white cloth. and, when the king and the queen with all her ladies and gentlemen had showed him these chambers, they turned again to their own chambers, and left the said lord granthuse there, accompanied with the lord chamberlain (hastings), who undressed him, and they both went together to the bath.--and when they had been in their baths as long as was their pleasure, they had green ginger, divers syrups, comfits, and ipocras, and then they went to bed. and in the morning he took his cup with the king and queen, and returned to westminster again." in edward the fourth and his queen kept christmas in the abbey at coventry, and for six days (says _william wyrcester_) "the duke of clarence dissembled there." in the king celebrated the christmas festival at westminster with great pomp, wearing his crown, feasting his nobles, and making presents to his household; and in - he kept a splendid christmas at eltham, more than two thousand people being fed at his expense every day. edward almost entirely rebuilt eltham palace, of which the hall was the noblest part. in that hall he kept the christmas festival, "with bountiful hospitality for high and low, and abundance of mirth and sport." one of the continental visitors who participated in the royal festivities of this period was leo von rozmital, brother of george, king of bohemia. his retinue included tetzel, who, in describing the court of edward the fourth, after remarking upon edward's own handsome person, says, "the king has the finest set of courtiers that a man may find in christendom. he invited my lord leo and all his noble companions, and gave them a very costly feast, and also he gave to each of them the medal of his order, to every knight a golden one, and to every one who was not a knight a silver one; and he himself hung them upon their necks. another day the king called us to court. in the morning the queen (elizabeth woodville) went from child-bed to church with a splendid procession of many priests, bearing relics, and many scholars, all singing, and carrying burning candles. besides there was a great company of women and maidens from the country and from london, who were bidden to attend. there were also a great number of trumpeters, pipers, and other players, with forty-two of the king's singing men, who sang very sweetly. also, there were four and twenty heralds and pursuivants, and sixty lords and knights. then came the queen, led by two dukes, and with a canopy borne over her. behind her followed her mother and above sixty ladies and maidens. having heard the service sung, and kneeled down in the church, she returned with the same procession to her palace. here all who had taken part in the procession were invited to a feast, and all sat down, the men and the women, the clergy and the laity, each in his rank, filling four large rooms. also, the king invited my lord and all his noble attendants to the table where he usually dined with his courtiers. and one of the king's greatest lords must sit at the king's table upon the king's stool, in the place of the king; and my lord sat at the same table only two steps below him. then all the honours which were due to the king had to be paid to the lord who sat in his place, and also to my lord; and it is incredible what ceremonies we observed there. while we were eating, the king was making presents to all the trumpeters, pipers, players, and heralds; to the last alone he gave four hundred nobles, and every one, when he received his pay, came to the tables and told aloud what the king had given him. when my lord had done eating, he was conducted into a costly ornamented room, where the queen was to dine, and there he was seated in a corner that he might see all the expensive provisions. the queen sat down on a golden stool alone at her table, and her mother and the queen's sister stood far below her. and when the queen spoke to her mother or to the king's sister, they kneeled down every time before her, and remained kneeling until the queen drank water. and all her ladies and maids, and those who waited upon her, even great lords, had to kneel while she was eating, which continued three hours(!). after dinner there was dancing, but the queen remained sitting upon her stool, and her mother kneeled before her. the king's sister danced with two dukes, and the beautiful dances and reverences performed before the queen--the like i have never seen, nor such beautiful maidens. among them were eight duchesses, and above thirty countesses and others, all daughters of great people. after the dance the king's singing men came in and sang. when the king heard mass sung in his private chapel my lord was admitted: then the king had his relics shown to us, and many sacred things in london. among them we saw a stone from the mount of olives, upon which there is the footprint of jesus christ, our lady's girdle, and many other relics." cards and other christmas diversions in the fifteenth century. the amusements of the people in the fifteenth century are referred to by thomas wright, esq., m.a., f.s.a., who says: "in england, in the third year of the reign of edward iv. ( ), the importation of playing-cards, probably from germany, was forbidden, among other things, by act of parliament; and as that act is understood to have been called for by the english manufacturers, who suffered by the foreign trade, it can hardly be doubted that cards were then manufactured in england on a rather extensive scale. cards had then, indeed, evidently become very popular in england; and only twenty years afterwards they are spoken of as the common christmas game, for margery paston wrote as follows to her husband, john paston, on the th of december in :--'please it you to weet (_know_) that i sent your eldest son john to my lady morley, to have knowledge of what sports were used in her house in the christmas next following after the decease of my lord her husband; and she said that there were none disguisings, nor harpings, nor luting, nor singing, nor none loud disports, but playing at the tables, and the chess, and _cards_--such disports she gave her folks leave to play, and none other.... i sent your younger son to the lady stapleton, and she said according to my lady morley's saying in that, and as she had seen used in places of worship (_gentlemen's houses_) there as she had been.' ... after the middle of the fifteenth century, cards came into very general use; and at the beginning of the following century, there was such a rage for card-playing, that an attempt was made early in the reign of henry viii. to restrict their use by law to the period of christmas. when, however, people sat down to dinner at noon, and had no other occupation for the rest of the day, they needed amusement of some sort to pass the time; and a poet of the fifteenth century observes truly-- 'a man may dryfe forthe the day that long tyme dwellis with harpyng and pipyng, and other mery spellis, with gle, and wyth game.'" [illustration: lady musician of the th century.] another book well known to bibliomaniacs ("dives and pauper," ed. w. de worde; ) says: "for to represente in playnge at crystmasse herodes and the thre kynges and other processes of the gospelles both then and at ester and other tymes also it is lefull and c[=o]mendable." [illustration: rustic christmas minstrel with pipe and tabor.] edward the fifth succeeded his father, edward iv., in the dangerous days of . he was at ludlow when his father died, being under the guardianship of his uncle, earl rivers, and attended by other members of the woodville family. almost immediately he set out for london, but when he reached stony stratford, on april th, he was met by his uncle richard, duke of gloucester, who had arrested lord rivers and lord richard grey. the young king (a boy of thirteen) renewed his journey under gloucester's charge, and on reaching london was lodged in the tower. his mother, on hearing of the arrest of rivers and grey, had taken sanctuary at westminster. lord hastings, a supporter of the king, was arrested and executed because he would not sanction gloucester's nefarious schemes for obtaining the throne. about the same time rivers and grey were beheaded at pontefract, whither they had been taken by gloucester's orders. soon afterwards the queen was compelled to deliver up the young duke of york to richard, who sent him to join his brother in the tower. on june nd, at the request of richard, dr. shaw, brother of the lord mayor of london, delivered a sermon at st. paul's cross, in which he insisted on the illegitimacy of edward v. and his brother. on june th a deputation of nobles and citizens of london offered the crown to richard. he accepted it, and began to reign as richard iii. and, according to a confession afterwards made by sir james tyrell, one of richard's officers, the two young princes remained in the tower, being put to death by their uncle richard's orders. thus, atrociously, began the reign of the murderous usurper, richard the third. the king kept his first christmas at kenilworth castle, having previously visited the city of coventry, at the festival of _corpus christi_, to see the plays. the accounts of kenilworth castle show that in john beaufitz was paid £ "for divers reparacions made in the castell of kyllingworth" by order of richard iii. at this time, says philip de comines, "he was reigning in greater splendour and authority than any king of england for the last hundred years." the following year richard kept christmas in the great hall at westminster, celebrating the festival with great pomp and splendour, encouraging the recreations usual at the season, and so attentively observing the ancient customs that a warrant is entered for the payment of " marks for certain new year's gifts bought against the feast of christmas." the festivities continued without interruption until the day of the epiphany, when they terminated with an entertainment of extraordinary magnificence given by the monarch to his nobles in westminster hall--"the king himself wearing his crown," are the words of the croyland historian, "and holding a splendid feast in the great hall, similar to that of his coronation." "little did richard imagine that this would be the last feast at which he would preside--the last time he would display his crown in peace before his assembled peers."[ ] an allusion to this christmas festival, and to the king's wicked nature, is contained in a note to bacon's "life of king henry vii.," which says: "richard's wife was anne, the younger daughter of warwick the king-maker. she died th march, . it was rumoured that her death was by poison, and that richard wished to marry his niece elizabeth of york, eldest daughter of edward iv. it is said that in the festivities of the previous christmas the princess elizabeth had been dressed in robes of the same fashion and colour as those of the queen. ratcliffe and catesby, the king's confidants, are credited with having represented to richard that this marriage of so near a kinswoman would be an object of horror to the people, and bring on him the condemnation of the clergy." at a christmas festival at rhedon, in brittany, henry of richmond met english exiles to the number of , and swore to marry elizabeth of york as soon as he should subdue the usurper; and thereupon the exiles unanimously agreed to support him as their sovereign. on the st of august, , henry set sail from harfleur with an army of , men, and a few days afterwards landed at milford haven. he was received with manifest delight, and as he advanced through wales his forces were increased to upwards of , men. before the close of the month he had encountered the royal army and slain the king at bosworth field, and by this memorable victory had terminated the terrible wars of the roses and introduced into england a new dynasty. [ ] browning. [ ] "every-day book," vol. ii. p. . [ ] "shorter poems." [ ] sir john froissart's chronicles of england, france, spain, portugal, scotland, brittany, flanders, and the adjoining countries; translated from the original french, at the command of king henry the eighth, by john bourchier, lord berners. london edition, . [ ] cassell's "history of england." [ ] creighton's "life of edward the black prince." [ ] "sports and pastimes." [ ] cassell's "history of england." [ ] shakespeare. [ ] "history of chivalry." [ ] "sandringham past and present, ." [ ] king's lynn chamberlains' accounts rolls, rd of henry vi. [ ] "chronicles of the white rose of york." [ ] "paston letters." [ ] halstead's "life of richard iii." chapter vi. christmas under henry vii. and henry viii. ( - .) henry the seventh was the son of edmund tudor, earl of richmond, son of owen tudor, a welsh gentleman who had married the widow of henry v. his mother, margaret, was a great-granddaughter of john of gaunt by catherine swynford. in early life henry was under the protection of henry vi.; but after the battle of tewkesbury he was taken by his uncle, jasper tudor, earl of pembroke, to brittany for safety. edward iv. made several unsuccessful attempts to get him into his power, and richard iii. also sent spies into brittany to ascertain his doings. on christmas day, , the english exiles, who gathered round henry in brittany, took an oath in the cathedral of rheims to support him in ousting richard and succeeding him to the english throne. henry, on his part, agreed to reconcile the contending parties by marrying elizabeth of york, eldest daughter and co-heir of edward iv., and this promise he faithfully kept. after his defeat of richard the third at bosworth he assumed the royal title, advanced to london, and had himself crowned king of england; and at the following christmas festival he married elizabeth of york. the archbishop who married them (archbishop bourchier) had crowned both richard iii. and henry vii., and fuller quaintly describes this last official act of marrying king henry to elizabeth of york as the holding of "the posie on which the white rose and the red rose were tied together." and bacon says, "the so-long-expected and so-much-desired marriage between the king and the lady elizabeth was celebrated with greater triumph and demonstrations, especially on the people's part, of joy and gladness, than the days either of his entry or coronation." the christmas festivities were attended to with increasing zest during the reign of henry vii., for the king studied magnificence quite as much as his predecessors had done. his riding dress was "a doublet of green or white cloth of gold satin, with a long gown of purple velvet, furred with ermine, powdered, open at the sides, and purpled with ermine, with a rich sarpe (scarf) and garter." his horse was richly caparisoned, and bore a saddle of estate, covered with gold. his majesty was attended by seven henchmen, clothed in doublets of crimson satin, with gowns of white cloth of gold. the queen appeared with equal splendour, "wearing a round circle of gold, set with pearls and precious stones, arrayed in a kirtle of white damask cloth of gold, furred with miniver pure, garnished, having a train of the same, with damask cloth of gold, furred with ermine, with a great lace, and two buttons and tassels of white silk, and gold at the breast above." and the royal apartments were kept with great splendour. at his ninth christmas festival (dec. , ) the king established new rules for the government of the royal household (preserved among the harleian mss.), which he directed should be kept "in most straightest wise." the royal household book of the period, in the chapter-house at westminster, contains numerous disbursements connected with christmas diversions. in the seventh year of this reign is a payment to wat alyn (walter alwyn) in full payment for the disguising made at christmas, £ s. d., and payments for similar purposes occur in the following years. another book, also in the chapter-house, called "the kyng's boke of paymentis," contains entries of various sums given to players and others who assisted to amuse the king at christmas, and among the rest, to the lord of misrule (or abbot as he is sometimes called), for several years, "in rewarde for his besynes in crestenmes holydays, £ s. d." the plays at this festival seem to have been acted by the "gentlemen of the king's chapell," as there are several liberal payments to certain of them for playing on twelfth night; for instance, an entry on january th, henry vii., of a reward to five of them of £ s. d., for acting before the king on the previous night; but there was a distinct set of players for other times. leland, speaking of , says: "this cristmas i saw no disgysyngs, and but right few plays. but ther was an abbot of misrule, that made much sport and did right well his office." in the following year, however, "on neweres day at nyght, there was a goodly disgysyng," and "many and dyvers pleyes." that the christmas festival did not pass unobserved by the men of this period who navigated the high seas we know from the name of a cuban port which was a christmas discovery by christopher columbus. on christmas day, , christopher columbus, the celebrated genoese navigator, landed at a newly-discovered port in cuba, which he named navidad, because he landed there on christmas day. the fire at the royal residence, shene, was the event of christmas, . it broke out in the palace, on the evening of december st, while the royal family were there, and for three hours raged fiercely, destroying, with the fairest portion of the building, the rich furniture, beds, tapestry, and other decorations of the principal chambers. fortunately an alarm was given in time, and the royal and noble personages of the court escaped to a place of safety. in consequence of this fire the king built the fine new palace of richmond. royal christmases were kept by henry vii. at westminster hall with great hospitality, the king wearing his crown, and feasting numerous guests, loading the banquet-table with peacocks, swans, herons, conger, sturgeon, brawn, and all the delicacies of the period. at his ninth christmas festival the mayor and aldermen of london were feasted with great splendour at westminster, the king showing them various sports on the night following in the great hall, which was richly hung with tapestry: "which sports being ended _in the morning_, the king, queen, and court sat down at a table of stone, to dishes, placed by as many knights and esquires, while the mayor was served with twenty-four dishes and abundance of wine. and finally the king and queen being conveyed with great lights into the palace, the mayor, with his company in barges, returned to london by break of the next day." from the ancient records of the royal household it appears that on the morning of new year's day, the king "sitting in his foot-sheet," received according to prescribed ceremony a new year's gift from the queen, duly rewarding the various officers and messengers, according to their rank. the queen also "sat in her foot-sheet," and received gifts in the same manner, paying a less reward. and on this day, as well as on christmas day, the king wore his kirtle, his surcoat and his pane of arms; and he walked, having his hat of estate on his head, his sword borne before him, with the chamberlain, steward, treasurer, comptroller, preceding the sword and the ushers; before whom must walk all the other lords except those who wore robes, who must follow the king. the highest nobleman in rank, or the king's brother, if present, to lead the queen; another of the king's brothers, or else the prince, to walk with the king's train-bearer. on twelfth day the king was to go "crowned, in his royal robes, kirtle, and surcoat, his furred hood about his neck, and his ermines upon his arms, of gold set full of rich stones with balasses, sapphires, rubies, emeralds, and pearls." this ornament was considered so sacred, that "no temporal man" (none of the laity) but the king was to presume to touch it; an esquire of the body was to bring it in a fair handkerchief, and the king was to put it on with his own hands; he must also have his sceptre in his right hand, the ball with the cross in his left hand, and must offer at the altar gold, silver, and incense, which offering the dean of the chapel was to send to the archbishop of canterbury, and this was to entitle the dean to the next vacant benefice. the king was to change his mantle when going to meat, and to take off his hood and lay it about his neck, "clasping it before with a rich _owche_." the king and the queen on twelfth night were to take the _void_ (evening repast) in the hall; as for the wassail, the steward and treasurer were to go for it, bearing their staves; the chapel choir to stand on the side of the hall, and when the steward entered at the hall door he was to cry three times, "wassail! wassail! wassail!" and the chapel to answer with a good song; and when all was done the king and queen retired to their chamber. among the special features of the banquets of this period were the devices for the table called subtleties, made of paste, jelly, or blanc-mange, placed in the middle of the board, with labels describing them; various shapes of animals were frequent; and on a saint's day, angels, prophets, and patriarchs were set upon the table in plenty. certain dishes were also directed as proper for different degrees of persons; as "conies parboiled, or else rabbits, for they are better for a lord"; and "for a great lord take squirrels, for they are better than conies"; a whole chicken for a lord; and "seven mackerel in a dish, with a dragge of fine sugar," was also a dish for a lord. but the most famous dish was "the peacock enkakyll, which is foremost in the procession to the king's table." here is the recipe for this royal dish: take and flay off the skin with the feathers, tail, and the neck and head thereon; then take the skin, and all the feathers, and lay it on the table abroad, and strew thereon ground cinnamon; then take the peacock and roast him, and baste him with raw yolks of eggs; and when he is roasted, take him off, and let him cool awhile, and take him and sew him in his skin, and gild his comb, and so serve him with the last course. card-playing was forbidden except at christmas, by a statute passed in the reign of henry vii. a scotch writer,[ ] referring to this prohibition, says: "a universal christmas custom of the olden time was playing at cards; persons who never touched a card at any other season of the year felt bound to play a few games at christmas. the practice had even the sanction of the law. a prohibitory statute of henry vii.'s reign, forbade card-playing save during the christmas holidays. of course, this prohibition extended only to persons of humble rank; henry's daughter, the princess margaret, played cards with her suitor, james iv. of scotland; and james himself kept up the custom, receiving from his treasurer, at melrose, on christmas night, , thirty-five unicorns, eleven french crowns, a ducat, a _ridare_, and a _leu_, in all about equal to £ of modern money, to use at the card-table." now, as the scottish king was not married to the english princess until , it is quite clear that he had learned to play cards long before his courtship with margaret; for in , when he received so much card-money from his treasurer, the english princess was but seven years of age. james had evidently learned to play at cards with the scottish barons who frequented his father's court, and whose lawlessness led to the revolt which ended in the defeat and melancholy fate of james iii. ( ), and gave the succession to his son, james iv., at the early age of fifteen years. the no less tragic end of james iv. at flodden field, in , is strikingly depicted by sir walter scott, who tells:-- "of the stern strife, and carnage drear, of flodden's fatal field, where shiver'd was fair scotland's spear, and broken was her shield." [illustration] the reign of henry the eighth. on the death of henry vii., who had given england peace and prosperity, and established firmly his own house on the english throne, in , his son henry became king as henry viii. he was a handsome and accomplished young man, and his accession was an occasion of great rejoicing. henry kept his first royal christmas at richmond, with great magnificence. proclaimed king on the nd of april at the age of eighteen, and married on the rd of june to katherine of arragon, widow of his deceased brother arthur, prince of wales, the youthful monarch and his queen were afterwards crowned at westminster abbey by the archbishop of canterbury, and spent the first christmas of their wedded life at richmond. "and a very pleasant time it ought to have been to the queen, for every species of entertainment was there got up by the handsome young king and his gallant company of courtiers, for her particular gratification. there was a grand tournament on the green, before the palace, which was rendered brilliant with pavilions, and the other gay structures always erected for these chivalrous ceremonies. the king and queen took their places in the customary elevated position, surrounded by the nobles and beauties of the court, to witness the feats of arms of the many gallant knights who had thronged to display their prowess before their sovereign; these, with their esquires, the heralds, pages, and other attendants, mounted and on foot, clad in their gay apparel, the knights wearing handsome suits of armour, and careering on gaily caparisoned horses, made a very inspiriting scene, in which the interest deepened when the usual combats between individuals or select companies commenced."[ ] "for every knight that loved chivalry, and would his thanks have a passant name, hath prayed that he might be of that game, and well was him that thereto chosen was."[ ] the spectacle presented was one of great splendour; for "the commencement of the reign of henry viii., who was then styled by his loving subjects 'the rose without a thorn,' witnessed a remarkable revival of magnificence in personal decoration. so brilliant were the dresses of both sexes at the grand entertainment over which the king and queen presided at richmond, that it is difficult to convey an adequate idea of their splendour. but in the first half of the sixteenth century the principal courts of europe were distinguished by a similar love of display, which, though it fostered habits of luxury, afforded an extraordinary impulse towards art."[ ] in england the love of finery became so general among the people that several statutes were passed during henry's reign to restrain it. but while the king was quite willing that his subjects should observe due propriety in regard to their own dress and adornments, not exceeding the regulations laid down for their particular rank or station in life, he was lavish in his own expenditure, and it pleased the people to see henry dressed in kingly fashion. he greatly increased his own popularity by taking part in the tournaments, in which "he did exceedingly well"; and he also assisted in the several curious and picturesque masques of christmastide. on one occasion the king with some of the chief nobles of his court appeared apparelled as robin hood and his foresters, in which disguise he entered unexpectedly into the queen's chamber, "whereat," says holinshed, "the queen and her ladies were greatly amazed, as well for the strange sight as for the sudden appearance." the splendour of the court festivities necessitated increased expenditure for christmas-keeping, notwithstanding that the king's domestic affairs were managed by "a good number of honourable, virtuous, wise, expert, and discreet persons of his council." the preserved bills of fare show that the court diet was liberal generally, but especially sumptuous at the grand entertainments of christmas. and the royal household accounts also show increased expenditure for the diversions, as well as for the banquetings, of the festival. for instance, the payments to the lord of misrule, which in henry the seventh's time never exceeded £ s. d., were raised by henry the eighth in his first year to £ s. d., and subsequently to £ s. d. in the first year is a payment to "rob amadas upon his bill for certain plate of gold stuf bought of him for the disguisings," £ s. d.; and another to "willm. buttry upon his bill for certen sylks bought of him for the disguisings," £ s. d. in the sixth year are charges "to leonard friscobald for diverse velvets, and other sylks, for the disguising," £ s. d.; and "to richard gybson for certen apparell, &c., for the disguysing at the fest of cristemes last," £ s. ½d. considerable payments are made to the same gybson in after years for the same purpose, particularly in the eleventh, for revels, called a maskelyn. in the tenth year large rewards were given to the gentlemen and children of the king's chapel; the former having £ s. d. "for their good attendance in xtemas"; and "mr. cornisse for playing affore the king opon newyeres day at nyght with the children," £ s. d. hall, in his chronicle, henry viii. folio b, a, gives the following account of a royal masquerade at greenwich, where the king was keeping his christmas in : "on the daie of the epiphanie, at night, the king with xi others, wer disguised after the maner of italie, called a maske, a thing not seen afore in england; thei were appareled in garments long and brode, wrought all with gold, with visers and cappes of gold; and after the banket doen, these maskers came in with six gentlemen disguised in silke, bearing staffe torches, and desired the ladies to daunce: some were content, and some that new the fashion of it refused, because it was a thing not commonly seen. and after thei daunced and communed together, as the fashion of the maske is, thei tooke their leave and departed, and so did the quene and all the ladies." in the king kept his christmas at greenwich "with great nobleness and open court," and again in . in , he received the french embassy here, and also kept his christmas "with revels, masks, disguisings, and banquets royal;" as he did again in , in , and in ; the last-mentioned year "he entertained twenty-one of the scottish nobility whom he had taken prisoners at salom moss, and gave them their liberty without ransom."[ ] on all these occasions henry diverted his guests right royally, spending vast sums on the masques and disguisings; but none of the christmas diversions proved greater attractions than the king's tournament displays. to these splendid exercises henry gave unremitting attention, and not to display proficiency in them was almost to lose his favour; yet some discretion was required to rival, but not to excel the king, whose ardent temper could not brook superiority in another. but, although victory was always reserved for royalty, it is but fair to allow that the king was no mean adept in those pursuits for which his bodily powers and frequent exercise had qualified him. among the most distinguished knights of henry's court charles brandon was pre-eminent, not only for his personal beauty and the elegance that attended every movement which the various evolutions of the game required, but for his courage, judgment, and skill, qualities which he displayed to great advantage at the royal festivities. this celebrated man was the son of sir william brandon, who, bearing the standard of henry the seventh, was slain by richard the third at bosworth field. three sons of the howard family were also distinguished at the royal tournaments. lord thomas howard was one of the most promising warriors, and, unfortunately, one of the most dissolute men at the court of henry. sir edward and sir edmund howard, the one famed for naval exploits, the other less remarkable, but not without celebrity for courage. sir thomas knevet, master of the horse, and lord neville, brother to the marquis of dorset, were also prominent in the lists of combat. the trumpets blew to the field the fresh, young gallants and noblemen, gorgeously apparelled with curious devices of arts and of embroideries, "as well in their coats as in trappers for their horses; some in gold, some in silver, some in tinsel, and divers others in goldsmith's work goodly to behold." such was the array in which the young knights came forth at richmond, in the splendid tournament which immediately succeeded henry's coronation, "assuming the name and devices of the knights or scholars of pallas, clothed in garments of green velvet, carrying a crystal shield, on which was pourtrayed the goddess minerva, and had the bases and barbs of their horses embroidered with roses and pomegranates of gold; those of diana were decorated with the bramble-bush, displayed in a similar manner. the prize of valour was the crystal shield. between the lists the spectators were amused with a pageant, representing a park enclosed with pales, containing fallow deer, and attended by foresters and huntsmen. the park being moved towards the place where the queen sat, the gates were opened, the deer were let out, pursued by greyhounds, killed and presented by diana's champions to the queen and the ladies. thus were they included in the amusement, not only as observers, but as participators; nor were the populace without their share of enjoyments; streams of rhenish wine and of claret, which flowed from the mouths of animals sculptured in stone and wood, were appropriated to their refreshment. night closed on the joyous scene; but before its approach the king, perceiving that the ardour of the combatants had become intemperate and dangerous, wisely limited the number of strokes, and closed the tourney. "it was about this period that the tournament ceased to be merely a chivalric combat; and, united with the pageant, acquired more of the dramatic character. the pageant consisted of a temporary building, moved on biers, generally representing castles, rocks, mountains, palaces, gardens, or forests. the decoration of these ambulating scenes was attended with considerable expense, but was seldom conducted with taste or consistency. they generally contained figures, personating a curious medley of nymphs, savages, heathen gods, and christian saints, giants and the nine worthies, who descended and danced among the spectators. "on the night of the epiphany ( ) a pageant was introduced into the hall at richmond, representing a hill studded with gold and precious stones, and having on its summit a tree of gold, from which hung roses and pomegranates. from the declivity of the hill descended a lady richly attired, who, with the gentlemen, or, as they were then called, children of honour, danced a morris before the king. "on another occasion, in the presence of the court, an artificial forest was drawn in by a lion and an antelope, the hides of which were richly embroidered with golden ornaments; the animals were harnessed with chains of gold, and on each sat a fair damsel in gay apparel. in the midst of the forest, which was thus introduced, appeared a gilded tower, at the gates of which stood a youth, holding in his hands a garland of roses, as the prize of valour in a tournament which succeeded the pageant."[ ] christmas festivities of noblemen and others. the royal magnificence was imitated by the nobility and gentry of the period, who kept the christmas festival with much display and prodigality, maintaining such numerous retinues as to constitute a miniature court. the various household books that still exist show the state in which they lived. from that of the northumberland family ( ), it appears that the "almonar" was often "a maker of interludys," and had "a servaunt to the intent for writynge the parts." the persons on the establishment of the chapel performed plays from some sacred subject during christmas; as "my lorde usith and accustomyth to gyf yerely, if his lordship kepe a chapell and be at home, them of his lordschipes chapell, if they doo play the play of the nativitie uppon cristynmes day in the mornnynge in my lords chapell befor his lordship, xxs." other players were also permitted and encouraged, and a master of the revells appointed to superintend. and "my lorde useth and accustomyth yerly to gyf hym which is ordynede to be master of the revells yerly in my lordis hous in cristmas for the overseyinge and orderinge of his lordschips playes, interludes, and dresinge that is plaid befor his lordship in his hous in the xii dayes of christenmas, and they to have in rewarde for that caus yerly, xxs." another entry shows that s. d. was the price paid to the chaplain, william peres, in the th henry viii., "for makyng an enterlued to be playd this next christenmas." in this reign the working classes were allowed greater privileges at christmas than at any other part of the year. the act of henry vii. c. , against unlawful games, expressly forbids artificers, labourers, servants, or apprentices, to play at any such games, except at christmas, and then only in their masters' houses by the permission of the latter; and a penalty of s. d. was incurred by any householder allowing such games, except during those holidays; which, according to stow, extended from all-hallows evening to the day after candlemas day. the act of henry viii. c. , enacts more particularly, "that no manner of artificer or craftsman of any handicraft or occupation, husbandman, apprentice, labourer, servant at husbandry, journeyman, or servant of artificer, mariners, fishermen, watermen, or any serving-man, shall from the said feast of the nativity of _st. john baptist_, play at the tables, tennis, dice, cards, bowls, clash, coyting, logating, or any other unlawful game, out of _christmas_, under the pain of xxs. to be forfeit for every time; and in _christmas_ to play at any of the said games in their masters' houses, or in their masters' presence." in his description of the "mummings and masquerades" of this period, strutt[ ] says that the "mummeries" practised by the lower classes of the people usually took place at the christmas holidays; and such persons as could not procure masks rubbed their faces over with soot, or painted them; hence sebastian brant, in his "ship of fools" (translated by alexander barclay, and printed by pynson, in ) alluding to this custom, says: "the one hath a visor ugley set on his face, another hath on a vile counterfaite vesture, or painteth his visage with fume in such case, that what he is, himself is scantily sure." sandys,[ ] in reference to this period, says: "the lower classes, still practising the ceremonies and superstitions of their forefathers, added to them some imitations of the revelries of their superiors, but, as may be supposed, of a grosser description; and many abuses were committed. it was, therefore, found necessary by an act passed in the rd year of henry viii. to order that no person should appear abroad like mummers, covering their faces with vizors, and in disguised apparel, under pain of three months' imprisonment; and a penalty of s. was declared against such as kept vizors in their house for the purpose of mumming. it was not intended, however, to debar people from proper recreations during this season, but, on the contrary, we have reason to believe that many indulgencies were afforded them, and that landlords and masters assisted them with the means of enjoying the customary festivities; listening to their tales of legendary lore, round the yule block, when weary of more boisterous sports, and encouraging them by their presence." king henry viii.'s "still christmas." in the th year of his reign, in consequence of the prevalence of the plague in london, the king kept his christmas quietly in the old palace at eltham, whence it was called the "still christmas." this suppression of the mirth and jollity which were the usual concomitants of the festive season did not satisfy the haughty cardinal wolsey, who "laye at the manor of richemond, and there kept open householde, to lordes, ladies, and all other that would come, with plaies and disguisyng in most royall maner; whiche sore greved the people, and in especiall the kynges servauntes, to se hym kepe an open court and the kyng a secret court."[ ] the royal christmases subsequently kept, however, made amends for the cessation of festivities at the kyng's "still christmas," especially the royal celebrations at greenwich. in the "solemne christmas" held there was "with revels, maskes, disguisings, and banquets; and on the thirtieth of december and the third of january were solemne justs holden, when at night the king and fifteen other with him, came to bridewell, and there putting on masking apparell, took his barge, and rowed to the cardinall's (woolsey) place, where were at supper many lords and ladyes, who danced with the maskers, and after the dancing was made a great banquet."[ ] during the girlhood of the princess (afterwards queen) mary, entertainments were given for her amusement, especially at christmastide; and she gave presents to the king's players, the children of the chapel, and others. but, sandys says, that "as she grew up, and her temper got soured, she probably lost all enjoyment of such scenes." ellis, in his "original letters," gives a curious application from the council for the household of the lady mary to the cardinal wolsey, to obtain his directions and leave to celebrate the ensuing christmas. in this letter the reader is reminded of the long train of sports and merriment which made christmas cheerful to our ancestors. the cardinal, at the same time that he established a household for the young duke of richmond, had also "ordained a council, and stablished another household for the lady mary, then being _princess of the realm_."[ ] the letter which seems to have been written in the same year in which the household was established, , is as follows:-- "please it youre grace for the great repaire of straungers supposed unto the pryncesse honorable householde this solempne fest of cristmas, we humbly beseche the same to let us knowe youre gracious pleasure concernyng as well a ship of silver for the almes disshe requysite for her high estate, and spice plats, as also for trumpetts and a rebek to be sent, and whither we shall appoynte any lord of mysrule for the said honorable householde, provide for enterluds, disgysyngs, or pleyes in the said fest, or for banket on twelf nyght. and in likewise whither the pryncesse shall sende any newe yeres gifts to the kinge, the quene, your grace, and the frensshe quene, and of the value and devise of the same. besechyng yowre grace also to pardon oure busy and importunate suts to the same in suche behalf made. thus oure right syngler goode lorde we pray the holy trynyte have you in his holy preservacion. at teoxbury, the xxvij day of november. youre humble orators, john exon "to the most reverent father jeilez grevile in god the lord cardinall peter burnell his good grace." john salter g. bromley thomas audeley." christmas and the reformation. the great reformer, martin luther, took much interest in the festivities of christmastide, including, of course, the christmas-tree. one of his biographers[ ] tells how young luther, with other boys of mansfeld, a village to the north-west of eisleben, sang christmas carols "in honour of the babe of bethlehem." and the same writer says, "luther may be justly regarded as the central representative of the reformation in its early period, for this among other reasons--that he, more powerfully than any other, impressed upon the new doctrine the character of glad tidings of great joy." on christmas day, , martin luther "administered the communion in both kinds, and almost without discrimination of applicants," in the parish church of eisenach, his "beloved town." [illustration: martin luther and the christmas tree.] in england, the desire for some reform in the church was recognised even by cardinal wolsey, who obtained from the pope permission to suppress thirty monasteries, and use their revenues for educational purposes; and wolsey's schemes of reform might have progressed further if henry viii. had not been fascinated by anne boleyn. but the king's amour with the "little lively brunette" precipitated a crisis in the relations between church and state. [illustration: the little orleans madonna of raphael] henry, who, by virtue of a papal dispensation, had married his brother's widow, katherine, now needed papal consent to a divorce, that he might marry anne boleyn, and when he found that he could not obtain it, he resolved to be his own pope, "sole protector and supreme head of the church and clergy of england." and among the events of christmastide may be mentioned the resolution of the king's minister, thomas cromwell, and his party, in , to break the ecclesiastical connection with rome, and establish an independent church in england. the necessary bills were framed and introduced to parliament soon after the christmas holidays by cromwell, who for his successful services was made chancellor of the exchequer for life. authority in all matters ecclesiastical, as well as civil, was vested solely in the crown, and the "courts spiritual" became as thoroughly the king's courts as the temporal courts at westminster. the enslavement of the clergy, the dissolution of the monasteries, and the gagging of the pulpits followed, the years of cromwell's administration being an english reign of terror. but the ruthless manner in which he struck down his victims sickened the english people, and they exhibited their disapprobation in a manner which arrested the attention of the king. the time of cromwell himself was coming, for the block was the goal to which henry's favourite minister was surely hastening; and it is only anticipating events by very few years, to say that he was beheaded on tower hill, july , . another royal christmas. that following the execution of anne boleyn ( ), henry spent in the company of his third queen, jane seymour, at richmond palace, with a merry party, and subsequently crossed the frozen thames to greenwich. during the following summer the queen went with her husband on a progress, and in the autumn retired to hampton court, where she gave birth to a son (who became edward vi.), and died twelve days afterwards, on the th of october, . during the married life of queen jane, the princess mary was often with the court at richmond, affecting affectionate attachment for the queen, apparently to conciliate her father. the birth of a prince, followed by the death of the queen, it might have been thought would have a chastening effect upon mary, as somewhat altering her prospects; but after acting as chief mourner to her friendly stepmother, she spent a pleasant christmas at richmond, where she remained till february. her losses at cards during the christmas festivities were very considerable, for she was fond of gambling. and she appears to have also amused herself a good deal with her attendant, "jane the fool," to whose maintenance she contributed while staying at richmond. one curious entry in the household book of the princess mary is: "item, for shaving jane fooles hedde, iiiid." another is: "item, geven heywood, playeng an enterlude with his children before my ladye's grace xls." the great event of christmas, , was the landing of anne of cleves, at deal, on the th of december. king henry had become alarmed at the combination between france and spain, and his unprincipled chancellor, cromwell, desirous of regaining his lost influence with the king, recommended a protestant marriage. he told henry that anne, daughter of john iii., duke of cleves, was greatly extolled for her beauty and good sense, and that by marrying her he would acquire the friendship of the princes of germany, in counterpoise to the designs of france and spain. henry despatched hans holbein to take the lady's portrait, and, being delighted with the picture produced, soon concluded a treaty of marriage, and sent the lord admiral fitzwilliam, earl of southampton, to receive the princess at calais, and conduct her to england. on her arrival henry was greatly disappointed. he did not think the princess as charming as her portrait; and, unfortunately for her, she was unable to woo him with winning words, for she could speak no language but german, and of that henry did not understand a word. though not ugly (as many contemporaries testify), she was plain in person and manners, and she and her maidens, of whom she brought a great train, are said to have been as homely and awkward a bevy as ever came to england in the cause of royal matrimony. the royal bluebeard, who had consorted with such celebrated beauties as anne boleyn and jane seymour, recollecting what his queens had been, and what holbein and cromwell had told him should again be, entered the presence of anne of cleves with great anticipation, but was thunderstruck at the first sight of the reality. lord john russell, who was present, declared "that he had never seen his highness so marvellously astonished and abashed as on that occasion." the marriage was celebrated on the th of january, , but henry never became reconciled to his german queen; and he very soon vented his anger upon cromwell for being the means of bringing him, not a wife, but "a great flanders mare." christmas at the colleges. the fine old tower of magdalen college, embowered in verdure (as though decorated for christmas), is one of the most picturesque of the venerable academical institutions of oxford. it stands on the east side of the cherwell, and is the first object of interest to catch the eye of the traveller who enters the city from the london road. this college was the scene of many christmas festivities in the olden time, when it was the custom of the several colleges to elect a "christmas lord, or lord of misrule, styled in the registers _rex fabarum_ and _rex regni fabarum_; which custom continued till the reformation of religion, and then that producing puritanism, and puritanism presbytery, the profession of it looked upon such laudable and ingenious customs as popish, diabolical and anti-christian."[ ] queen's college, oxford (whose members have from time immemorial been daily summoned to dine in hall by sound of trumpet, instead of by bell as elsewhere), is noted for its ancient christmas ceremony of ushering in the boar's head with the singing of the famous carol-- "_caput afri differo reddens laudes domino._ the boar's head in hand bring i, with garlands gay and rosemary, i pray you all sing merrily _qui estis in convivio_." tradition says that this old custom commemorates the deliverance of a student of the college, who, while walking in the country, studying aristotle, was attacked by a wild boar from shotover forest, whereupon he crammed the philosopher down the throat of the savage, and thus escaped from its tusks. [illustration: magdalen college, oxford.] warton[ ] mentions that, "in an original draught of the statutes of trinity college, at cambridge, founded in , one of the chapters is entitled _de præfecto ludorum qui imperator dicitur_, under whose direction and authority latin comedies and tragedies are to be exhibited in the hall at christmas. with regard to the peculiar business and office of imperator it is ordered that one of the masters of arts shall be placed over the juniors, every christmas, for the regulation of their games and diversions at that season of festivity. at the same time, he is to govern the whole society in the hall and chapel, as a republic committed to his special charge by a set of laws which he is to frame in latin and greek verse. his sovereignty is to last during the twelve days of christmas, and he is to exercise the same power on candlemas." his fee amounted to forty shillings. similar customs were observed at other colleges during christmastide. in a subsequent chapter of this work will be found an account of a grand exhibition of the christmas prince, at st. john's college, oxford, in the year . [illustration: bringing in the boar's head with minstrelsy.] christmas at the inns of court and great houses. in the time of henry the eighth the christmases at the inns of court became celebrated, especially those at lincoln's inn, which had kept them as early as the reign of henry vi. the temples and gray's inn afterwards disputed the palm with it. every corporation appointed a lord of misrule or master of merry disports, and, according to stow, there was the like "in the house of every nobleman of honour or good worship, were he spiritual or temporal." and during the period of the sway of the lord of misrule, "there were fine and subtle disguisings, masks, and mummeries, with playing at cards for counters, nails, and points in every house, more for pastime than for gain." town and country would seem to have vied with each other as to which should exhibit the greatest extravagance in the christmas entertainments, but (as in the days of massinger the poet), the town carried off the palm:-- "men may talk of country christmasses-- their thirty-pound buttered eggs, their pies of carps' tongues, their pheasants drenched with ambergris, the carcases of three fat wethers bruised for gravy; to make sauce for a single peacock; yet their feasts were fasts, compared with the city's." the earliest particular account of the regulations for conducting one of these grand christmases is in the th of henry viii.,[ ] when, besides the king for christmas day, the marshal and the master of the revels, it is ordered that the king of cockneys, on childermas day, should sit and have due service, and "that jack straw, and all his adherents, should be thenceforth utterly banished, and no more to be used in this house, upon pain to forfeit for every time five pounds, to be levied on every fellow hapning to offend against this rule." "jack straw" was a kind of masque, which was very much disliked by the aristocratic and elder part of the community, hence the amount of the fine imposed. the society of gray's inn, however, in , got into a worse scrape than permitting jack straw and his adherents, for they acted a play (the first on record at the inns of court) during this christmas, the effect whereof was, that lord governance was ruled by dissipation and negligence, by whose evil order lady public weal was put from governance. cardinal wolsey, conscience-smitten, thought this to be a reflection on himself, and deprived the author, sergeant roe, of his coif, and committed him to the fleet, together with thomas moyle, one of the actors, until it was satisfactorily explained to him. it was found necessary from time to time to make regulations to limit the extent of these revels and plays, and to provide for the expenses, which were considerable, and they were therefore not performed every year. in the lincoln's inn society agreed that if the two temples kept christmas, they would also do so, not liking to be outdone. and later an order was made in gray's inn that no comedies, commonly called interludes, should be acted in the refectory in the intervals of vacation, except at the celebration of christmas; and that then the whole body of students should jointly contribute towards the dresses, scenes, and decorations. as an example of the christmas hospitality of the period, we refer to the establishment of john carminow, whose family was of high repute in the county of cornwall in the time of henry the eighth. hals says that "he kept open house for all comers and goers, drinkers, minstrells, dancers, and what not, during the christmas time, and that his usual allowance of provision for those twelve days, was twelve fat bullocks, twenty cornish bushels of wheat (_i.e._, fifty winchesters), thirty-six sheep, with hogs, lambs, and fowls of all sort, and drink made of wheat and oat-malt proportionable; for at that time barley-malt was little known or used in those parts." that the beneficed clergy of this period also "made merry" with their parishioners is quite clear from the writings of "master hugh latimer," who, in henry's reign, held the benefice of west kington, in wiltshire. a citation for heresy being issued against latimer, he wrote with his peculiar medley of humour and pathos: "i intend to make merry with my parishioners this christmas, for all the sorrow, lest perchance i may never return to them again." one of the most celebrated personages of this period was will somers, the king's jester. this famous fool enlivened the christmas festivities at the court of henry the eighth, and many quaint stories are told of his drolleries and witticisms. though a reputed fool, his sarcastic wit and sparkling talents at repartee won him great celebrity. very little is known of his actual biography, but some interesting things are told about him in a scarce tract, entitled "a pleasant history of the life and death of will somers," &c. (which was first published in , and a great part of which is said to have been taken from andrew borde's collection of "the merry jests and witty shifts of scoggin"). "and now who but will sommers, the king's fool? who had got such an interest in him by his quick and facetious jests, that he could have admittance to his majesty's chamber, and have his ear, when a great nobleman, nay, a privy counsellor, could not be suffered to speak with him: and farther, if the king were angry or displeased with anything, if no man else durst demand the cause of his discontent, then was will sommers provided with one pleasant conceit or another, to take off the edge of his displeasure. being of an easy and tractable disposition he soon found the fashions of the court, and obtained a general love and notice of the nobility; for he was no carry-tale, nor flattering insinuator to breed discord and dissension, but an honest, plain, downright [man], that would speak home without halting, and tell the truth of purpose to shame the devil--so that his plainness, mixed with a kind of facetiousness, and tartness with pleasantry, made him acceptable into the company of all men." there cannot, perhaps, be a greater proof of the estimation in which somers was held by king henry, than the circumstance of his portrait having been twice introduced into the same piece with that of the king; once in the fine picture by holbein of henry viii. and his family, and again, in an illuminated psalter which was expressly written for the king, by john mallard, his chaplain and secretary ("_regis orator et calamo_"), and is now preserved in the british museum. according to an ancient custom, there is prefixed to psalm lii., "_dixit incipens_" in the psalter, a miniature illumination of king david and a fool, whose figures, in this instance, are portraits of henry viii. and his favourite will somers. the king is seated at a kind of altar table, and playing on the harp, whilst somers who is standing near him, with his hands clasped over his breast, appears to listen with admiration. the king wears a round flat cap, furred, and a vest of imperial purple striped with gold, and fluted at bottom; his doublet is red, padded with white; his hose crimson; on his right leg is a blue garter. somers is in a vest, with a hood thrown over the back; his stockings are blue; at his girdle is a black pouch. when henry viii. became old and inactive, his christmases grew gradually duller, until he did little more than sit out a play or two, and gamble with his courtiers, his christmas play-money requiring a special draught upon the treasury, usually for a hundred pounds. he died on january , . [ ] "book of days," edinburgh. [ ] williams's "domestic memoirs of the royal family and of the court of england." [ ] chaucer. [ ] "william's domestic memoirs." [ ] nichols's "progresses of queen elizabeth." [ ] "recollections of royalty," by mr. charles c. jones, . [ ] "sports and pastimes." [ ] introduction to "christmas carols." [ ] hall's "chronicle." [ ] baker's "chronicle." [ ] hall's "chronicle." [ ] peter bayne, ll. d. [ ] wood's "athenæ oxonienses." [ ] "history of english poetry." [ ] dugdale, "origines juridiciales." _chapter vii._ christmas under edward vi., mary, and elizabeth. ( - .) christmas under king edward vi.--george ferrers "master of the king's pastimes." during the short reign of the youthful monarch edward the sixth ( - ), the splendour of the royal christmases somewhat abated, though they were still continued; and the king being much grieved at the condemnation of the duke of somerset, his uncle and protector, it was thought expedient to divert his mind by additional pastimes at the christmas festival, - . "it was devised," says holinshed, "that the feast of christ's nativitie, commonlie called christmasse, then at hand, should be solemnlie kept at greenwich, with open houshold, and franke resort to court (which is called keeping of the hall), what time of old ordinarie course there is alwaise one appointed to make sport in the court, commonlie lord of misrule; whose office is not unknown to such as have been brought up in noblemen's houses, and among great housekeepers, who use liberall feasting in that season. there was therefore by order of the councell, a wise gentleman, and learned, named george ferrers, appointed to that office for this yeare; who, being of better credit and estimation than comonlie his predecessors had been before, received all his commissions and warrants by the name of the maister of the king's pastimes. which gentleman so well supplied his office, both in show of sundry sights and devices of rare inventions, and in act of diverse interludes, and matters of pastime plaied by persons, as not onlie satisfied the common sort, but also were verie well liked and allowed by the councell, and other of skill in the like pastimes; but best of all by the young king himselfe, as appeered by his princelie liberalitie in rewarding that service." the old chronicler quaintly adds, that "christmas being thus passed with much mirth and pastime, it was thought now good to proceed to the execution of the judgment against the duke of somerset." the day of execution was the nd of january, , six weeks after the passing of the sentence. king edward took part in some of the christmas masques performed at his court, with other youths of his age and stature, all the performers being suitably attired in costly garments. will somers also figured in some of these masques. the young king seems to have found more amusement in the pageants superintended by master ferrers than he had gained from some of the solemnities of the state in which he had been obliged to play a prominent part; but none of the diversions restored him to good health. large sums of money were expended on these christmas entertainments, and the king handsomely rewarded the master of his pastimes. george ferrers, who was a lawyer, a poet, and an historian, was certainly well qualified for his task, and well supplied with the means of making sport, as "master of the king's pastimes." he complained to sir thomas cawarden that the dresses provided for his assistants were not sufficient, and immediately an order was given for better provision. he provided clowns, jugglers, tumblers, men to dance the fool's dance, besides being assisted by the "court fool" of the time--john smyth. this man was newly supplied for the occasion, having a long fool's coat of yellow cloth of gold, fringed all over with white, red, and green velvet, containing ½ yards at £ per yard, guarded with plain yellow cloth of gold, yards at s. d. per yard; with a hood and a pair of buskins of the same figured gold containing ½ yards at £ , and a girdle of yellow sarsenet containing one quarter d., the whole value of "the fool's dress" being £ s. d. ferrers, as the "lord of misrule" wore a robe of rich stuff made of silk and golden thread containing yards at s. a yard, guarded with embroidered cloth of gold, wrought in knots, yards at s. d. a yard; having fur of red feathers, with a cape of camlet thrum. a coat of flat silver, fine with works, yards at s., with an embroidered garb of leaves of gold and coloured silk, containing yards at s. a yard. he wore a cap of maintenance, hose buskins, panticles of bruges satin, a girdle of yellow sarsenet with various decorations, the cost of his dress being £ s. d., which, considering the relative value of money, must be considered a very costly dress. the office which george ferrers so ably filled had been too often held by those who possessed neither the wit nor the genius it required; but, originally, persons of high rank and ability had been chosen to perform these somewhat difficult duties. ferrers received £ for the charges of his office; and afterwards the lord mayor, who probably had been at the royal festival, entertained him in london. the cost of the royal festivities exceeded £ . stowe, in his "annals," thus refers to the celebration: "the king kept his christmasse with open houshold at greenwich, george ferrers, gentleman of lincolnes inne, being lord of the merry disports all the dayes, who so pleasantly and wisely behaved himselfe, that the king had great delight in his pastimes. on monday the fourth of january, the said lord of merry disports came by water to london, and landed at the tower-wharfe, entered the tower, and then rode through the tower-streete, where he was received by sergeant vawce, lord of misrule to john mainard, one of the sheriffes of london, and so conducted through the citie with a great company of young lords and gentlemen, to the house of sir george barne, lord maior; where he, with the chiefe of his company dined, and after had a great banquet; and, at his departure, the lord maior gave him a standing cup, with a cover of silver and gilt, of the value of ten pounds, for a reward; and also set a hogs-head of wine, and a barrell of beere, at his gate, for his traine that followed him; the residue of his gentlemen and servants dined at other aldermen's houses, and with the sheriffes, and so departed to the tower wharfe againe, and to the court by water, to the great commendation of the maior and aldermen, and highly accepted of the king and councell." religious matters occupied public attention throughout the reign of edward vi. the young king was willing to support the reforming projects of archbishop cranmer, and assented to the publication of the new liturgy in the prayer book of , and the act of uniformity. and with the sanction of the sovereign, cranmer, in , issued a revised liturgy, known as the second prayer book of king edward vi., and the forty-two articles, which were markedly protestant in tendency. on his health failing, the king, acting on the advice of the duke of northumberland, altered the settlement of the crown as arranged in the will of henry viii., and made a will excluding mary and elizabeth from the succession in favour of lady jane grey, daughter-in-law of northumberland, which was sanctioned by archbishop cranmer and the privy council. although cranmer had sanctioned this act with great reluctance, and on the assurance of the judges, it sufficed to secure his condemnation for high treason on mary's accession. edward sank rapidly and died on july , . the duke of northumberland then proclaimed lady jane grey queen, but the people refused to recognise the usurpation. after a brief reign of eleven days, the crown was transferred to mary, daughter of henry viii. and catherine of arragon, and lady jane grey and her husband were sent to the tower, and subsequently condemned to death. they were kept in captivity for some time, and were not executed until after wyatt's rebellion in . [illustration: virgin & child, chirbury.] mary was a firm roman catholic, and she looked to her uncle, charles v. of spain, for assistance and support. in january, , much to the disappointment of her subjects, she concluded a treaty of marriage with philip of spain, son of charles v. afterwards her reign was disturbed by insurrections, and also by the persecution of protestants by cardinal pole, who came over to england to push forward the roman catholic reaction. this troubled reign was not congenial to christmas festivities, though they were still kept up in different parts of the country. during the christmas festival (january , ) a splendid embassy, sent by the emperor, charles the fifth, headed by the counts egmont and lalain, the lord of courrieres, and the sieur de nigry, landed in kent, to arrange the marriage between queen mary and philip. the unpopularity of the proceeding was immediately manifested, for the men of kent, taking egmont for philip, rose in fury and would have killed him if they could have got at him. although an attempt was made to allay the fears of the english, within a few days three insurrections broke out in different parts of the kingdom, the most formidable being that under sir thomas wyatt, who fixed his headquarters at rochester. in city and court alike panic prevailed. the lawyers in westminster hall pleaded in suits of armour hidden under their robes, and dr. weston preached before the queen in whitehall chapel, on candlemas day, in armour under his clerical vestments. mary alone seemed calm and self-possessed. she mounted her horse, and, attended by her ladies and her council, rode into the city, where, summoning sir thomas white, lord mayor, and the aldermen, who all came clad in armour under their civic livery, she ascended a chair of state, and with her sceptre in her hand addressed them, declaring she would never marry except with the leave of her parliament. her courage gained the day. the rebellion was speedily quelled and the ringleaders put to death; and the following july the marriage took place. mary's subsequent reign was a "reign of terror, a time of fire and blood, such as has no parallel in the history of england."[ ] christmas diversions of queen mary. during her "reign of terror" queen mary was diverted by christmas plays and pageants, and she showed some interest in the amusements of the people. strutt's "sports and pastimes," in an article on the "antiquity of tumbling," says: "it would seem that these artists were really famous mirth-makers; for one of them had the address to excite the merriment of that solemn bigot queen mary. 'after her majesty,' observes strype, 'had reviewed the royal pensioners in greenwich park, there came a tumbler, and played many pretty feats, the queen and cardinal pole looking on; whereat she was observed to laugh heartily.'" strutt also mentions that "when mary visited her sister, the princess elizabeth, during her confinement at hatfield house, the next morning, after mass, a grand exhibition of bear-baiting was made for their amusement, with which, it is said, 'their highnesses were right well content.'" the idle pageantry of the boy-bishop, which had been formally abrogated by proclamation from the king, in the thirty-third year of henry viii., was revived by his daughter mary. strutt says that "in the second year of her reign an edict, dated november , , was issued from the bishop of london to all the clergy of his diocese, to have a boy-bishop in procession. the year following, 'the child bishop, of paules church, with his company,' were admitted into the queen's privy chamber, where he sang before her on saint nicholas day, and upon holy innocents day. after the death of mary this silly mummery was totally discontinued." the christmas entertainments of philip and mary at richmond are thus described by folkstone williams:[ ] "the queen strove to entertain her royal husband with masques, notwithstanding that he had seen many fair and rich beyond the seas; and nicholas udall, the stern schoolmaster, was ordered to furnish the drama. an idea of these performances may be gathered from the properties of a masque of patrons of gallies like venetian senators with galley-slaves for their torch-bearers, represented at court in christmas of the first and second years of philip and mary, with a masque of six venuses, or amorous ladies, with six cupids, and as many torch-bearers. among them were lions' heads, sixteen other headpieces, made in quaint fashion for the turkish magistrates, as well as eight falchions for them, the sheaths covered with green velvet, and bullioned with copper. there were eight headpieces for women-masks, goddesses and huntresses. a masque of eight mariners, of cloth of gold and silver, and six pairs of chains for the galley slaves. another mask of goddesses and huntresses, with turks, was performed on the following shrovetide; and one of six hercules, or men of war, coming from the sea with six mariners to their torch-bearers, was played a little later. besides which, we find mention of a masque of covetous men with long noses--a masque of men like argus--a masque of women moors--a masque of amazons--one of black and tawney tinsel, with baboons' faces--one of polanders, and one of women with diana hunting." nichols ("progresses," vol. i. p. ) says that in the princess elizabeth was present at a royal christmas kept with great solemnity by queen mary and king philip at hampton court. "on christmas eve, the great hall of the palace was illuminated with a thousand lamps curiously disposed. the princess supped at the same table in the hall with the king and queen, next the cloth of state; and after supper, was served with a perfumed napkin and plates of confects by the lord paget. but she retired to her ladies before the revels, maskings, and disguisings began. on st. stephen's day she heard mattins in the queen's closet adjoining to the chapel, where she was attired in a robe of white sattin, strung all over with large pearls. on the th day of december she sate with their majesties and the nobility at a grand spectacle of justing, when two hundred spears were broken. half of the combatants were accoutred in the almaine and half in the spanish fashion. thus our chronicler, who is fond of minute description. but these and other particularities, insignificant as they seem, which he has recorded so carefully, are a vindication of queen mary's character in the treatment of her sister; they prove that the princess, during her residence at hatfield, lived in splendour and affluence; that she was often admitted to the diversions of the court; and that her present situation was by no means a state of oppression and imprisonment, as it has been represented by most of our historians." [illustration: saints and angels.] the romish priestly practices on "christmass-daye," at this period, are referred to in the following translation from naogeorgus, by barnaby googe:-- "then comes the day wherein the lorde did bring his birth to passe; whereas at midnight up they rise, and every man to masse, this time so holy counted is, that divers earnestly do think the waters all to wine are chaunged sodainly; in that same houre that christ himselfe was borne, and came to light, and unto water streight againe transformde and altred quight. there are beside that mindfully the money still do watch, that first to aultar commes, which then they privily do snatch. the priestes, least other should it have, take oft the same away, whereby they thinke throughout the yeare to have good lucke in play, and not to lose: then straight at game till day-light do they strive, to make some present proofe how well their hallowde pence wil thrive. three masses every priest doth singe upon that solemn day, with offrings unto every one, that so the more may play. this done, a woodden childe in clowtes is on the aultar set, about the which both boyes and gyrles do daunce and trymly jet; and carrols sing in prayse of christ, and, for to helpe them heare, the organs aunswere every verse with sweete and solemne cheare. the priestes do rore aloude; and round about the parentes stande to see the sport, and with their voyce do helpe them and their hande." the christmas mummers played a prominent part in the festivities of this period, and the following illustration shows how they went a-mumming. [illustration: riding a-mumming at christmastide.] queen mary died on november , , and her half-sister, elizabeth, came to the throne in perilous times, for plots of assassination were rife, and england was engaged on the side of spain in war with france. but the alliance with spain soon came to an end, for queen elizabeth saw that the defence of protestantism at home and peace with france abroad were necessary for her own security and the good of her subjects. she began her reign by regarding the welfare of her people, and she soon won and never lost their affection. with the accession of queen elizabeth there was a revival of the courtly pomp and pageantry which were marked characteristics of her father's reign. just before the christmas festival ( ) the new queen made a state entry into the metropolis, attended by a magnificent throng of nobles, ladies, and gentlemen, and a vast concourse of people from all the country round. at highgate she was met by the bishops, who kneeled by the wayside and offered their allegiance. she received them graciously and gave them all her hand to kiss, except bonner, whom she treated with marked coldness, on account of his atrocious cruelties: an intimation of her own intentions on the score of religion which gave satisfaction to the people. in the pageantry which was got up to grace her entry into london, a figure representing "truth" dropped from one of the triumphal arches, and laid before the young queen a copy of the scriptures. holinshed says she revived the book with becoming reverence, and, pressing it to her bosom, declared that of all the gifts and honours conferred upon her by the loyalty of the people this was the most acceptable. yet green,[ ] in describing elizabeth's reign, says: "nothing is more revolting in the queen, but nothing is more characteristic, than her shameless mendacity. it was an age of political lying, but in the profusion and recklessness of her lies elizabeth stood without a peer in christendom." sir william fitzwilliam, writing to mr. more, of loseley, surrey, a few weeks after the accession of elizabeth, as an important piece of court news, says: "you shall understand that yesterday, being christmas day, the queen's majesty repaired to her great closet with her nobles and ladies, as hath been accustomed in such high feasts; and she, perceiving a bishop preparing himself to mass, all in the old form, tarried there until the gospel was done, and when all the people looked for her to have offered according to the old fashion, she with her nobles returned again from the closet and the mass, on to her privy chamber, which was strange unto divers. blessed be god in all his gifts." during the christmas festival ( ) preparations went on for the coronation of elizabeth, which was to take place on the th of january. on the th of that month she proceeded to the tower by water, attended by the lord mayor and citizens, and greeted with peals of ordnance, with music and gorgeous pageantry--a marked contrast to her previous entrance there as a suspected traitor in imminent peril of her life. two days later the queen rode in state from the tower to westminster, "most honourably accompanied, as well with gentlemen, barons, and other the nobility of this realm, as also with a notable train of godly and beautiful ladies, richly appointed," and all riding on horseback. the streets through which the procession passed were adorned with stately pageants, costly decorations, and various artistic devices, and were crowded with enthusiastic spectators, eager to welcome their new sovereign, and to applaud "the signs they noticed in her of a most prince-like courage, and great readiness of wit." on the following day (sunday, the th of january) elizabeth was crowned in westminster abbey, by dr. oglethorpe, bishop of carlisle, "queen of england, france, and ireland, defender of the faith." the ceremonials of the coronation were regulated according to ancient custom, and the entertainment in westminster hall was on a scale of great magnificence. [illustration: a dumb show in the time of elizabeth. (_from messrs cassell & co.'s "english plays," by permission_)] elizabeth was particularly fond of dramatic displays, and her first royal christmas was celebrated with plays and pageants of a most costly description. complaints, however, being made of the expense of these entertainments, she determined to control them, and directed an estimate to be made in the second year of her reign for the masques and pastimes to be shown before her at christmas and shrovetide. sir thomas cawarden was then, as he had for some time previous been, master of the revels. according to collier, the estimate amounted to £ s. d., being nearly £ less than the expenses in the former year. the control over the expenses, however, must soon have ceased, for in subsequent years the sums were greatly enlarged. nichols[ ] mentions that on twelfth day, , in the afternoon, the lord mayor and aldermen, and all the crafts of london, and the bachelors of the mayor's company, went in procession to st. paul's, after the old custom, and there did hear a sermon. the same day a stage was set up in the hall for a play; and after the play was over, there was a fine mask; and, afterwards, a great banquet which lasted till midnight. in this reign a more decorous and even refined style of entertainment had usurped the place of the boisterous feastings of former times, but there was no diminution in that ancient spirit of hospitality, the exercise of which had become a part of the national faith. this is evident from the poems of thomas tusser (born --died ) and other writers, who show that the english noblemen and yeomen of that time made hospitality a prominent feature in the festivities of the christmas season. in his "christmas husbandry fare," tusser says:-- "good husband and housewife, now chiefly be glad things handsome to have, as they ought to be had, they both do provide against christmas do come, to welcome their neighbour, good cheer to have some; good bread and good drink, a good fire in the hall, brawn pudding and souse, and good mustard withal. beef, mutton, and pork, shred pies of the best, pig, veal, goose, and capon, and turkey well dressed; cheese, apples, and nuts, jolly carols to hear, as then in the country is counted good cheer. what cost to good husband is any of this? good household provision only it is; of other the like i do leave out a many, that costeth the husbandman never a penny." [illustration] grand christmas of the inner temple, - . professor henry morley[ ] says the first english tragedy, "gorboduc," was written for the christmas festivities of the inner temple in the year by two young members of that inn--thomas norton, then twenty-nine years old, and thomas sackville, then aged twenty-five. and the play was performed at this "grand christmass" kept by the members of the inner temple. before a "grand christmas" was kept the matter was discussed in a parliament of the inn, held on the eve of st. thomas's day, december st. if it was resolved upon, the two youngest of those who served as butlers for the festival lighted two torches, with which they preceded the benchers to the upper end of the hall. the senior bencher there made a speech; officers were appointed for the occasion, "and then, in token of joy and good liking, the bench and company pass beneath the hearth and sing a carol."[ ] the revellings began on christmas eve, when three masters of the revels sat at the head of one of the tables. all took their places to the sound of music played before the hearth. then the musicians withdrew to the buttery, and were themselves feasted. they returned when dinner was ended to sing a song at the highest table. then all tables were cleared, and revels and dancing were begun, to be continued until supper and after supper. the senior master of the revels, after dinner and after supper, sang a carol or song, and commanded other gentlemen there present to join him. this form of high festivity was maintained during the twelve days of christmas, closing on twelfth night. on christmas day (which in was a thursday), at the first course of the dinner, the boar's head was brought in upon a platter, followed by minstrelsy. on st. stephen's day, december the th, the constable marshal entered the hall in gilt armour, with a nest of feathers of all colours on his helm, and a gilt pole-axe in his hand; with him sixteen trumpeters, four drums and fifes, and four men armed from the middle upward. those all marched three times about the hearth, and the constable marshal, then kneeling to the lord chancellor, made a speech, desiring the honour of admission into his service, delivered his naked sword, and was solemnly seated. that was the usual ceremonial when a grand christmas was kept. at this particular christmas, , in the fourth year of elizabeth, it was lord robert dudley, afterwards earl of leicester, who was constable marshal, and with chivalrous gallantry, taking in fantastic style the name of palaphilos, knight of the honourable order of pegasus, pegasus being the armorial device of the inner temple, he contributed to the splendour of this part of the entertainment. after the seating of the constable marshal, on the same st. stephen's day, december the th, the master of the game entered in green velvet, and the ranger of the forest in green satin; these also went three times about the fire, blowing their hunting-horns. when they also had been ceremoniously seated, there entered a huntsman with a fox and a cat bound at the end of a staff. he was followed by nine or ten couple of hounds, who hunted the fox and the cat to the glowing horns, and killed them beneath the fire. after dinner, the constable marshal called a burlesque court, and began the revels, with the help of the lord of misrule. at seven o'clock in the morning of st. john's day, december the th (which was a saturday in ) the lord of misrule was afoot with power to summon men to breakfast with him when service had closed in the church. after breakfast, the authority of this christmas official was in abeyance till the after-dinner revels. so the ceremonies went on till the banqueting night, which followed new year's day. that was the night of hospitality. invitations were sent out to every house of court, that they and the inns of chancery might see a play and masque. the hall was furnished with scaffolds for the ladies who were then invited to behold the sports. after the play, there was a banquet for the ladies in the library; and in the hall there was also a banquet for the lord chancellor and invited ancients of other houses. on twelfth day, the last of the revels, there were brawn, mustard, and malmsey for breakfast after morning prayer, and the dinner as on st. john's day. the following particulars of this "grand christmas" at the inner temple are from nichols's "progresses of queen elizabeth":-- "in the fourth year of queen elizabeth's reign there was kept a magnificent christmas here; at which the lord robert dudley (afterwards earl of leicester) was the chief person (his title palaphilos), being constable and marshall; whose officers were as followeth: mr. onslow, lord chancellour. anthony stapleton, lord treasurer. robert kelway, lord privy seal. john fuller, chief justice of the king's bench. william pole, chief justice of the common pleas. roger manwood, chief baron of the exchequer. mr. bashe, steward of the household. mr. copley, marshall of the household. mr. paten, chief butler. christopher hatton, master of the game. (he was afterwards lord chancellor of england.) mr. blaston } mr. yorke } mr. pension } masters of the revells. mr. jervise } mr. parker, lieutenant of the tower. mr. kendall, carver. mr. martin, ranger of the forests. mr. stradling, sewer. "and there were fourscore of the guard; beside divers others not here named. "touching the particulars of this grand feast, gerard leigh, in his 'accidence of armory,' p. , &c., having spoken of the pegasus borne for the armes of this society, thus goes on: 'after i had travelled through the east parts of the unknown world, to understand of deedes of armes, and so arriving in the fair river of thames, i landed within half a league from the city of london, which was (as i conjecture) in december last; and drawing neer the city, suddenly heard the shot of double canons, in so great a number, and so terrible, that it darkened the whole ayr; wherewith, although i was in my native country, yet stood i amazed, not knowing what it meant. thus, as i abode in despair, either to return or to continue my former purpose, i chanced to see coming towards me an honest citizen, clothed in a long garment, keeping the highway, seeming to walk for his recreation, which prognosticated rather peace than perill; of whom i demanded the cause of this great shot; who friendly answered, "it is," quoth he, "a warning shot to the constable marshall of the inner temple, to prepare to dinner." "'"why," said i, "what, is he of that estate that seeketh no other means to warn his officers than with so terrible shot in so peaceable a country?" "marry," saith he, "he uttereth himself the better to be that officer whose name he beareth." "'i then demanded, "what province did he govern, that needed such an officer?" he answered me, "the province was not great in quantity, but antient in true nobility. a place," said he, "privileged by the most excellent princess the high governor of the whole island, wherein are store of gentlemen of the whole realm, that repair thither to learn to rule and obey by law, to yield their fleece to their prince and commonweal; as also to use all other exercises of body and mind whereunto nature most aptly serveth to adorn, by speaking, countenance, gesture, and use of apparel the person of a gentleman; whereby amity is obtained, and continued, that gentlemen of all countries, in their young years, nourished together in one place, with such comely order, and daily conference, are knit by continual acquaintance in such unity of minds and manners as lightly never after is severed, than which is nothing more profitable to the commonweale." "'and after he had told me thus much of honour of the place, i commended in mine own conceit the policy of the governour, which seemed to utter in itself the foundation of a good commonweal; for that, the best of their people from tender years trained up in precepts of justice, it could not choose but yield forth a profitable people to a wise commonweal; wherefore i determined with myself to make proof of what i heard by report. "'the next day i thought of my pastime to walk to this temple, and entring in at the gates, i found the building nothing costly; but many comely gentlemen of face and person, and thereto very courteous, saw i to pass to and fro, so as it seemed a prince's port to be at hand; and passing forward, entred into a church of antient building, wherein were many monuments of noble personages armed in knightly habit, with their cotes depainted in ancient shields, whereat i took pleasure to behold. thus gazing as one bereft with the rare sight, there came unto me an hereaught, by name palaphilos, a king of armes, who courteously saluted me, saying, "for that i was a stranger, and seeming by my demeanour a lover of honour, i was his guest of right," whose courtesy (as reason was) i obeyed; answering, "i was at his commandment." "'"then," said he, "ye shall go to mine own lodging here within the palace, where we will have such cheer as the time and country will yield us;" where, i assure you i was so entertained, and no where i met with better cheer or company, &c. "'--thus talking, we entred the prince his hall, where anon we heard the noise of drum and fyfe. "what meaneth this drum?" said i. quoth he, "this is to warn gentlemen of the houshold to repair to the dresser; wherefore come on with me, and ye shall stand where ye may best see the hall served:" and so from thence brought me into a long gallery, that stretched itself along the hall neer the prince's table, where i saw the prince set: a man of tall personage, a manly countenance, somewhat brown of visage, strongly featured, and thereto comely proportioned in all lineaments of body. at the nether end of the same table were placed the embassadors of sundry princes. before him stood the carver, sewer, and cupbearer, with great number of gentlemen-wayters attending his person; the ushers making place to strangers, of sundry regions that came to behold the honour of this mighty captain. after the placing of these honourable guests, the lord steward, treasurer, and keeper of pallas seal, with divers honourable personages of that nobility, were placed at a side-table neer adjoining the prince on the right hand: and at another table, on the left side, were placed the treasurer of the houshold, secretary, the prince his serjeant at the law, four masters of the revels, the king of arms, the dean of the chappel, and divers gentlemen pensioners to furnish the same. "'at another table, on the other side, were set the master of the game, and his chief ranger, masters of houshold, clerks of the green cloth and check, with divers other strangers to furnish the same. "'on the other side against them began the table, the lieutenant of the tower, accompanied with divers captains of foot-bands and shot. at the nether end of the hall began the table, the high butler, the panter, clerks of the kitchen, master cook of the privy kitchen, furnished throughout with the souldiers and guard of the prince: all which, with number of inferior officers placed and served in the hall, besides the great resort of strangers, i spare to write. "'the prince so served with tender meats, sweet fruits, and dainty delicates confectioned with curious cookery, as it seemed wonder a world to observe the provision: and at every course the trumpetters blew the couragious blast of deadly war, with noise of drum and fyfe, with the sweet harmony of violins, sack-butts, recorders, and cornetts, with other instruments of musick, as it seemed apollo's harp had tuned their stroke. "'thus the hall was served after the most ancient order of the island; in commendation whereof i say, i have also seen the service of great princes, in solemn seasons and times of triumph, yet the order hereof was not inferior to any. "'but to proceed, this herehaught palaphilos, even before the second course came in, standing at the high table, said in this manner: "the mighty palaphilos, prince of sophie, high constable marshall of the knights templars, patron of the honourable order of pegasus:" and therewith cryeth, "a largess." the prince, praysing the herehaught, bountifully rewarded him with a chain to the value of an hundred talents. "'i assure you i languish for want of cunning ripely to utter that i saw so orderly handled appertaining to service; wherefore i cease, and return to my purpose. "'the supper ended, and tables taken up, the high constable rose, and a while stood under the place of honour, where his achievement was beautifully embroidered, and devised of sundry matters, with the ambassadors of foreign nations, as he thought good, till palaphilos, king of armes, came in, his herehaught marshal, and pursuivant before him; and after followed his messenger and calligate knight; who putting off his coronal, made his humble obeysance to the prince, by whom he was commanded to draw neer, and understand his pleasure; saying to him; in few words, to this effect: "palaphilos, seeing it hath pleased the high pallas, to think me to demerit the office of this place; and thereto this night past vouchsafed to descend from heavens to increase my further honour, by creating me knight of her order of pegasus; as also commanded me to join in the same society such valiant gentlemen throughout her province, whose living honour hath best deserved the same, the choice whereof most aptly belongeth to your skill, being the watchman of their doings, and register of their deserts; i will ye choose as well throughout our whole armyes, as elsewhere, of such special gentlemen, as the gods hath appointed, the number of twenty-four, and the names of them present us: commanding also those chosen persons to appear in our presence in knightly habit, that with conveniency we may proceed in our purpose." this done, palaphilos obeying his prince's commandement, with twenty-four valiant knights, all apparelled in long white vestures, with each man a scarf of pallas colours, and them presented, with their names, to the prince; who allowed well his choise, and commanded him to do his office. who, after his duty to the prince, bowed towards these worthy personages, standing every man in his antienty, as he had borne armes in the field, and began to shew his prince's pleasure; with the honour of the order.'" "_other particulars touching these grand christmasses, extracted out of the accompts of the house_. "first, it hath been the duty of the steward, to provide five fat brawns, vessels, wood, and other necessaries belonging to the kitchen: as also all manner of spices, flesh, fowl, and other cates for the kitchen. "the office of the chief butler, to provide a rich cupboard of plate, silver and parcel gilt: seaven dozen of silver and gilt spoons: twelve fair salt-cellers, likewise silver and gilt: twenty candlesticks of the like. "twelve fine large table cloths, of damask and diaper. twenty dozen of napkins suitable at the least. three dozen of fair large towels; whereof the gentleman sewers, and butlers of the house, to have every of them one at mealtimes, during their attendance. likewise to provide carving knives; twenty dozen of white cups and green potts: a carving table; torches; bread, beer, and ale. and the chief of the butlers was to give attendance on the highest table in the hall, with wine, ale and beer: and all the other butlers to attend at the other tables in like sort. "the cupboard of plate is to remain in the hall on christmas day, st. stephen's day and new year's day, from breakfast time ended untill after supper. upon the banquetting night it was removed into the buttry; which in all respects was very laudably performed. "the office of the constable marshall to provide for his employment, a fair gilt compleat harneys, with a nest of fethers in the helm; a fair pole-axe to bear in his hand, to be chevalrously ordered on christmas day and other days, as afterwards is shewed; touching the ordering and settling of all which ceremonies, during the said grand christmas, a solemn consultation was held at their parliament in this house; in the form following: "first, at the parliament kept in their parliament chamber in this house, on the even at night of st. thomas the apostle, officers are to attend, according as they had been long before that time, at a former parliament named and elected to undergo several offices for this time of solemnity, honour, and pleasance; of which officers these are the most eminent; namely, the steward, marshall, constable marshall, butler and master of the game. these officers are made known and elected in trinity term next before; and to have knowledg thereof by letters, in the country, to the end they may prepare themselves against all-hallow-tide; that, if such nominated officers happen to fail, others may then be chosen in their rooms. the other officers are appointed at other times nearer christmas day. "if the steward, or any of the said officers named in trinity term, refuse or fail, he or they were fined every one, at the discretion of the bench; and the officers aforenamed agreed upon. and at such a parliament, if it be fully resolved to proceed with such a grand christmas, then the two youngest butlers must light two torches, and go before the bench to the upper end of the hall; who being set down, the antientest bencher delivereth a speech briefly, to the whole society of gentlemen then present, touching their consent as afore: which ended, the eldest butler is to publish all the officers' names, appointed in parliament; and then in token of joy and good-liking, the bench and company pass beneath the harth, and sing a carol, and so to boyer. "_christmas eve._--the marshall at dinner is to place at the highest table's end, and next to the library, all on one side thereof, the most antient persons in the company present: the dean of the chappel next to him; then an antient or bencher, beneath him. at the other end of the table, the sewer, cup-bearer, and carver. at the upper end of the bench-table, the king's serjeant and chief butler; and when the steward hath served in, and set on the table the first mess, then he is also to sit down. "also at the supper end of the other table, on the other side of the hall, are to be placed the three masters of the revels; and at the lower end of the bench-table are to sit, the king's attorney, the ranger of the forest, and the master of the game. and at the lower end of the table, on the other side of the hall, the fourth master of the revels, the common serjeant, and constable-marshall. and at the upper end of the utter barrister's table, the marshal sitteth, when he hath served in the first mess; the clark of the kitchen also, and the clark of the sowce-tub, when they have done their offices in the kitchen, sit down. and at the upper end of the clark's table, the lieutenant of the tower, and the attendant to the buttery are placed. "at these two tables last rehersed, the persons they may sit upon both sides of the table; but of the other three tables all are to sit upon one side. and then the butlers or christmas servants, are first to cover the tables with fair linnen table-cloths; and furnish them with salt-cellers, napkins, and trenchers, and a silver spoon. and then the butlers of the house must place at the salt-celler, at every the said first three highest tables, a stock of trenchers and bread; and at the other tables, bread onely without trenchers. "at the first course the minstrels must sound their instruments, and go before; and the steward and marshall are next to follow together; and after them the gentleman sewer; and then cometh the meat. those three officers are to make altogether three solemn curtesies, at three several times, between the skreen and the upper table; beginning with the first at the end of the bencher's table; the second at the midst; and the third at the other end; and then standing by the sewer performeth his office. "when the first table is set and served, the steward's table is next to be served. after him the master's table of the revells; then that of the master of the game. the high constable-marshall; then the lieutenant of the tower; then the utter barrister's table; and lastly the clerk's table; all which time the musick must stand right above the harth side, with the noise of their musick; their faces direct towards the highest table; and that done, to return into the buttry, with their music sounding. "at the second course every table is to be served as at the first course, in every respect; which performed the servitors and musicians are to resort to the place assigned for them to dine at; which is the valects or yeoman's table, beneath the skreen. dinner ended the musicians prepare to sing a song, at the highest table: which ceremony accomplished, then the officers are to address themselves every one in his office, to avoid the tables in fair and decent manner, they beginning at the clerk's table; thence proceed to the next; and thence to all the others till the highest table be solemnly avoided. "then, after a little repose, the persons at the highest table arise and prepare to revells: in which time, the butlers, and other servitors with them, are to dine in the library. "at both the doors in the hall are porters, to view the comers in and out at meal times; to each of them is allowed a cast of bread, and a caudle nightly after supper. "at night before supper are revels and dancing, and so also after supper during the twelve daies of christmas. the antientest master of the revels is, after dinner and supper, to sing a caroll or song; and command other gentlemen then there present to sing with him and the company; and so it is very decently performed. "a repast at dinner is d. "_christmas day._--service in the church ended, the gentlemen presently repair into the hall to breakfast, with brawn, mustard and malmsey. "at dinner, the butler appointed for the grand christmas, is to see the tables covered and furnished: and the ordinary butlers of the house are decently to set bread, napkins, and trenchers in good form, at every table; with spoones and knives. "at the first course is served in a fair and large bore's-head, upon a silver platter, with minstralsye. two gentlemen in gowns are to attend at supper, and to bear two fair torches of wax, next before the musicians and trumpetters, and to stand above the fire with the musick till the first course be served in through the hall. which performed, they, with the musick, are to return into the buttery. the like course is to be observed in all things, during the time of christmas. the like at supper. "at service time, this evening, the two youngest butlers are to bear two torches _genealogia_. "a repast at dinner is d. which strangers of worth are admitted to take in the hall; and such are to be placed at the discretion of the marshall. "_st. stephen's day._--the butler, appointed for christmas, is to see the tables covered, and furnished with salt-sellers, napkins, bread, trenchers, and spoons. young gentlemen of the house are to attend and serve till the latter dinner, and then dine themselves. "this day the sewer, carver, and cup-bearer are to serve as afore. after the first course served in, the constable-marshall cometh into the hall, arrayed with a fair rich compleat harneys, white and bright, and gilt, with a nest of fethers of all colours upon his crest or helm, and a gilt pole-axe in his hand: to whom is associate the lieutenant of the tower, armed with a fair white armour, a nest of fethers in his helm, and a like pole-axe in his hand; and with them sixteen trumpetters; four drums and fifes going in rank before them; and with them attendeth four men in white harneys, from the middle upwards, and halberds in their hands, bearing on their shoulders the tower: which persons, with the drums, trumpets and musick, go three times about the fire. then the constable-marshall, after two or three curtesies made, kneeleth down before the lord chancellor; behind him the lieutenant; and they kneeling, the constable-marshall pronounceth an oration of a quarter of an hour's length, therby declaring the purpose of his coming; and that his purpose is to be admitted into his lordship's service. "the lord chancellor saith, 'he will take further advice therein.' "then the constable-marshall, standing up, in submissive manner delivereth his naked sword to the steward; who giveth it to the lord chancellor: and thereupon the lord chancellor willeth the marshall to place the constable-marshall in his seat: and so he doth, with the lieutenant also in his seat or place. during this ceremony the tower is placed beneath the fire. "then cometh the master of the game, apparelled in green velvet, and the ranger of the forest also, in a green suit of satten; bearing in his hand a green bow and divers arrows, with either of them a hunting horn about their necks; blowing together three blasts of venery, they pace round about the fire three times. then the master of the game maketh three curtesies; as aforesaid; and kneeleth down before the lord chancellor, declaring the cause of his coming; and desireth to be admitted into his service, &c. all this time the ranger of the forest standeth directly behind him. then the master of the game standeth up. "this ceremony also performed, a huntsman cometh into the hall, with a fox and a purse-net; with a cat, both bound at the end of a staff; and with them nine or ten couple of hounds, with the blowing of hunting hornes. and the fox and cat are by the hounds set upon, and killed beneath the fire. this sport finished the marshall placeth them in their several appointed places. "then proceedeth the second course; which done, and served out, the common serjeant delivereth a plausible speech to the lord chancellour, and his company at the highest table, how necessary a thing it is to have officers at this present; the constable-marshall and master of the game, for the better honour and reputation of the commonwealth; and wisheth them to be received, &c. "then the king's serjeant at law declareth and inferreth the necessity; which heard the lord chancellor desireth respite of farther advice. then the antientest of the masters of the revels singeth a song with the assistance of others there present. "at supper the hall is to be served in all solemnity, as upon christmas day, both the first and second course to the highest table. supper ended the constable-marshall presenteth himself with drums afore him, mounted upon a scaffold, born by four men; and goeth three times round about the harthe, crying out aloud, 'a lord, a lord,' &c. then he descendeth and goeth to dance, &c. and after he calleth his court every one by name, one by one, in this manner: "sir _francis flatterer_ of _fowlehurst_, in the county of _buckingham_. "sir _randle rakabite_, of _rascall-hall_, in the county of _rakehell_. "sir _morgan mumchance_, of _much monkery_, in the county of _mad mopery_. "sir _bartholomew baldbreech_, of _buttocks-bury_, in the county of _brekeneck_. "this done the lord of misrule addresseth himself to the banquet; which ended with some minstralsye, mirth and dancing every man departeth to rest. "at every mess is a pot of wine allowed. "every repast is d. "_st. john's day._--about seaven of the clock in the morning, the lord of misrule is abroad, and if he lack any officer or attendant, he repaireth to their chambers, and compelleth them to attend in person upon him after service in the church, to breakfast, with brawn, mustard, and malmsey. after breakfast ended, his lordship's power is in suspense, until his personal presence at night; and then his power is most potent. "at dinner and supper is observed the diet and service performed on st. stephen's day. after the second course served in, the king's serjeant, orator-like, declareth the disorder of the constable-marshall, and of the common-serjeant: which complaint is answered by the common-serjeant; who defendeth himself and the constable-marshall with words of great efficacy. hereto the king's serjeant replyeth. they rejoyn, &c., and who so is found faulty is committed to the tower, &c. "if any officer be absent at dinner or supper times; if it be complained of, he that sitteth in his place is adjudged to have like punishment as the officer should have had being present: and then withal he is enjoyned to supply the office of the true absent officer, in all pointe. if any offendor escape from the lieutenant into the buttery, and bring into the hall a manchet upon the point of a knife, he is pardoned: for the buttry in that case is a sanctuary. after cheese served to the table not any is commanded to sing. "_childermas day._--in the morning, as afore on monday, the hall is served; saving that the sewer, carver, and cup-bearer, do not attend any service. also like ceremony at supper. "_thursday._--at breakfast, brawn, mustard, and malmsey. at dinner, roast beef, venison-pasties, with like solemnities as afore. and at supper, mutton and hens roasted. "_new year's day._--in the morning, breakfast as formerly. at dinner like solemnity as on christmas eve. "_the banquetting night._--it is proper to the butler's office, to give warning to every house of court, of this banquet; to the end that they and the innes of chancery, be invited thereto to see a play and mask. the hall is to be furnished with scaffolds to sit on, for ladies to behold the sports, on each side. which ended the ladyes are to be brought into the library, unto the banquet there; and a table is to be covered and furnished with all banquetting dishes, for the lord chancellor, in the hall; where he is to call to him the ancients of other houses, as many as may be on the one side of the table. the banquet is to be served in by the gentlemen of the house. "the marshall and steward are to come before the lord chancellour's mess. the butlers for christmas must serve wine; and the butlers of the house beer and ale, &c. when the banquet is ended, then cometh into the hall the constable-marshall, fairly mounted on his mule; and deviseth some sport for passing away the rest of the night. "_twelf day._--at breakfast, brawn, mustard, and malmsey, after morning prayer ended. and at dinner, the hall is to be served as upon st. john's day." * * * * * the performance of "gorboduc" at the inner temple was received with such great applause, and the services of lord robert dudley, first favourite of the queen, so highly appreciated at that particular "grand christmasse," that queen elizabeth commanded a repetition of the play about a fortnight later, before herself, at her court at whitehall. a contemporary ms. note (cotton mss., vit. f. v.) says of the performance before the queen, that "on the th of january, , there was a play in the queen's hall at westminster by the gentlemen of the temple after a great mask, for there was a great scaffold in the hall, with great triumph as has been seen; and the morrow after, the scaffold was taken down." an unauthorised edition of the play was first published, in september of that year, by william griffith, a bookseller in st. dunstan's churchyard; but nine years afterwards an authorised and "true copy" of the play was published by john day, of aldersgate, the title being then altered from "gorboduc" (in which name the spurious edition had been issued) to "ferrex and porrex." the title of this edition set forth that the play was "without addition or alteration, but altogether as the same was shewed on stage before the queen's majestie, by the gentlemen of the inner temple." the argument of the play was taken from geoffrey of monmouth's "history of british kings," and was a call to englishmen to cease from strife among themselves and become an united people, obedient to one undisputed rule:-- "within one land one single rule is best: divided reigns do make divided hearts; but peace preserves the country and the prince." it recalled the horrors of the civil wars, and forbade the like again:-- "what princes slain before their timely hour! what waste of towns and people in the land! what treasons heap'd on murders and on spoils! whose just revenge e'en yet is scarcely ceas'd: ruthful remembrance is yet raw in mind. the gods forbid the like to chance again." a good description of the play, with copious extracts, is published in morley's "english plays," from which it also appears that "queen mary's expenditure on players and musicians had been between two and three thousand pounds a year in salaries. elizabeth reduced this establishment, but still paid salaries to interlude players and musicians, to a keeper of bears and mastiffs, as well as to the gentlemen and children of the chapel. the master of the children had a salary of forty pounds a year; the children had largesse at high feasts, and when additional use was made of their services; and each gentleman of the chapel had nineteenpence a day, with board and clothing. the master of the chapel who at this time had the training of the children was richard edwards, who had written lighter pieces for them to act before her majesty, and now applied his skill to the writing of english comedies, and teaching his boys to act them for the pleasure of the queen. the new form of entertainment made its way at court and through the country." [illustration: the fool of the old play. (_from a print by breughel._)] at this period the christmas revels at the inns of court were observed with much zest and jollity. sandys (writing in of elizabeth's time) says:-- "the order of the usual christmas amusements at the inns of court at this period would cause some curious scenes if carried into effect in the present day. barristers singing and dancing before the judges, serjeants and benchers, would 'draw a house' if spectators were admitted. of so serious import was this dancing considered, that by an order in lincoln's inn of february, th james i., the under barristers were by decimation put out of commons because the whole bar offended by not dancing on candlemas day preceding, according to the ancient order of the society, when the judges were present; with a threat that if the fault were repeated, they should be fined or disbarred." sir william dugdale makes the following reference to the christmas revels of the inner temple:-- "first, the solemn revells (after dinner, and the play ended,) are begun by the whole house, judges, sergeants at law, benchers; the utter and inner barr; and they led by the _master of the revells_: and one of the gentlemen of the utter barr are chosen to sing a song to the judges, serjeants, or masters of the bench; which is usually performed; and in default thereof, there may be an amerciament. then the judges and benchers take their places, and sit down at the upper end of the hall. which done, the _utter-barristers_ and _inner-barristers_, perform a second solemn revell before them. which ended, the _utter-barristers_ take their places and sit down. some of the gentlemen of the _inner-barr_, do present the house with dancing, which is called the _post revells_, and continue their dances, till the judges or bench think meet to rise and depart." the hard frost of gave the citizens of london an opportunity of keeping christmas on the ice. an old chronicler says: "from st december, , a hard frost prevailed, and on new year's eve, people went over and alongst the thames on the ise from london bridge to westminster. some plaied at the football as boldlie there, as if it had been on the drie land; divers of the court, being then at westminster shot dailie at prickes set upon the thames, and tradition says, queen elizabeth herself walked upon the ise. the people both men and women, went on the thames in greater numbers than in any street of the city of london. on the third daie of january, , at night it began to thaw, and on the fifth there was no ise to be seene between london bridge and lambeth, which sudden thaw caused great floods, and high waters, that bore downe bridges and houses and drowned manie people in england." how queen elizabeth went to worship, christmas, . nichols[ ] gives the following particular account of queen elizabeth's attendance at divine worship, at the "chappell of whitehall, westminster," christmas eve and christmas day, :-- "item, on monday, the th of december, the officers of arms being there present, the queen's majesty came to the evening prayer, the sword borne by the earle of warwick, her trayn borne by the lady strange. "item, on christmas day her majesty came to service very richly apparelled in a gown of purple velvet embroidered with silver very richly set with stones, with a rich collar set with stones; the earl of warwick bare the sword, the lady strange the trayn. after the creed, the queene's majesty went down to the offering, and having a short forme with a carpet, and a cushion laid by a gentleman usher, the ... taken by the lord chamberlain, her majesty kneeled down, her offering given her by the marquis of northampton; after which she went into her traverse, where she abode till the time of the communion, and then came forth, and kneeled down at the cushion and carpet aforesaid; the gentlemen ushers delivered the towel to the lord chamberlain, who delivered the same to be holden by the earl of sussex on the right hand, and the earl of leicester on the left hand; the bishop of rochester served the queen both of wine and bread; then the queen went into the traverse again; and the ladie cicilie, wife of the marquis of baden, came out of the traverse, and kneeled at the place where the queen kneeled, but she had no cushion, but one to kneel on; after she had received she returned to the traverse again; then the archbishop of canterbury and the lord chamberlain received the communion with the mother of the maids; after which the service proceeded to the end, and the queen returned again to the chamber of presence strait, and not the closet. her majesty dined not abroad; the said officers of arms had a mess of meat of seven dishes, with bread, beer, ale, and wine." royal christmases at hampton court. in , the earl of shrewsbury, writing from hampton court to his countess, says, "the plage is disposed far abrode in london, so that the queene kepes hur kyrsomas her, and goth not to grenwych as it was mete." meet or not, elizabeth kept many christmases at hampton court, banqueting, dancing, and dicing--the last being a favourite amusement with her, because she generally won, thanks to her dice being so loaded as to throw up the higher numbers. writing from hampton court at christmas, , sir thomas smith says: "if ye would what we do here, we play at tables, dance, and keep christmasse." [illustration: coat of arms.] queen elizabeth's singers and players. the christmas entertainments of queen elizabeth were enlivened by the beautiful singing of the children of her majesty's chapel. from the notes to gascoigne's _princely pleasures_ ( ) it appears that queen elizabeth retained on her royal establishment four sets of singing boys; which belonged to the cathedral of st. paul, the abbey of westminster, st. george's chapel, windsor, and the household chapel. for the support and reinforcement of her musical bands, elizabeth, like the other english sovereigns, issued warrants for taking "up suche apt and meete children, as are fitt to be instructed and framed in the art and science of musicke and singing." thomas tusser, the well-known author of "five hundreth points of good husbandrye," was in his youth a choir boy of st. paul's. nor is it astonishing, that although masses had ceased to be performed, the queen should yet endeavour to preserve sacred melody in a high state of perfection; since, according to burney, she was herself greatly skilled in musical learning. "if her majesty," says that eminent author, "was ever able to execute any of the pieces that are preserved in a ms. which goes under the name of queen elizabeth's virginal-book, she must have been a very great player, as some of the pieces which were composed by tallis, bird, giles, farnaby, dr. bull, and others, are so difficult that it would be hardly possible to find a master in europe who would undertake to play any of them at the end of a month's practice."[ ] but the children of the chapel were also employed in the theatrical exhibitions represented at court, for which their musical education had peculiarly qualified them. richard edwards, an eminent poet and musician of the sixteenth century, had written two comedies; damon and pythias, and palemon and arcite, which, according to wood, were often acted before the queen, both at court and at oxford. [illustration: the acting of one of shakespeare's plays in the time of queen elizabeth. (_by permission, from messrs cassell & co's "illustrated history of england_")] with the latter of these queen elizabeth was so much delighted that she promised edwards a reward, which she subsequently gave him by making him first gentleman of her chapel, and in master of the children on the death of richard bowyer. as the queen was particularly attached to dramatic entertainments, about she formed the children of the royal chapel into a company of theatrical performers, and placed them under the superintendence of edwards. not long after she formed a second society of players under the title of the "children of the revels," and by these two companies all lyly's plays, and many of shakespeare's and jonson's, were first performed. jonson has celebrated one of the chapel children, named salathiel pavy, who was famous for his performance of old men, but who died about , under the age of thirteen. in his beautiful epitaph of pavy, jonson says:-- "'twas a child that did so thrive in grace and feature, as heaven and nature seem'd to strive which own'd the creature. years he number'd scarce thirteen when fates turn'd cruel, yet three fill'd zodiacs had he been the stage's jewel; and did act, what now we moan. old men so duly, that the parcoe thought him one he played so truly." the shakespearian period had its grand christmases, for the christmas players at the court of queen elizabeth included england's greatest dramatist, william shakespeare; and the queen not only took delight in witnessing shakespeare's plays, but also admired the poet as a player. the histrionic ability of shakespeare was by no means contemptible, though probably not such as to have transmitted his name to posterity had he confined himself exclusively to acting. rowe informs us that "the tip-top of his performances was the ghost in his own _hamlet_;" but aubrey states that he "did act exceedingly well"; and cheetle, a contemporary of the poet, who had seen him perform, assures us that he was "excellent in the quality he professed." an anecdote is preserved in connection with shakespeare's playing before queen elizabeth. while he was taking the part of a king, in the presence of the queen, elizabeth rose, and, in crossing the stage, dropped her glove as she passed the poet. no notice was taken by him of the incident; and the queen, desirous of finding out whether this was the result of inadvertence, or a determination to preserve the consistency of his part, moved again towards him, and again dropped her glove. shakespeare then stooped down to pick it up, saying, in the character of the monarch whom he was playing-- "and though now bent on this high embassy, yet stoop we to take up our cousin's glove." he then retired and presented the glove to the queen, who was highly pleased with his courtly performance. grand christmas at gray's inn. in there was a celebrated christmas at gray's inn, of which an account was published in under the following title:-- "gesta grayorum: or the history of the high and mighty prince, henry prince of purpoole, arch-duke of stapulia and bernardia, duke of high and nether holborn, marquis of st. giles and tottenham, count palatine of bloomsbury and clerkenwell, great lord of the cantons of islington, kentish-town, paddington, and knights-bridge, knight of the most heroical order of the helmet, and sovereign of the same; who reigned and died, a.d. . together with a masque, as it was presented (by his highness's command) for the entertainment of q. elizabeth; who, with the nobles of both courts, was present thereat. london, printed for w. canning, at his shop in the temple-cloysters, mdclxxxviii. price one shilling." to nine sheets, dedicated "to the most honourable matthew smyth, esq., comptroller of the honourable society of the inner temple." the prince of purpoole was mr. henry helmes, a norfolk gentleman, "who was thought to be accomplished with all good parts, fit for so great a dignity; and was also a very proper man of personage, and very active in dancing and revelling." his coffers were filled by voluntary contributors, amongst whom the lord treasurer, sir william cecil, sent him ten pounds, and a purse of rich needlework. the performers were highly applauded by queen elizabeth, who expressed satisfaction in her own peculiar style. when the actors had performed their masque, some of her majesty's courtiers danced a measure, whereupon the queen exclaimed: "what! shall we have bread and cheese after a banquet?" finally the prince and his officers of state were honoured by kissing her fair hands, and receiving the most flattering commendations. the whole amusement terminated in fighting at barriers; the earl of essex, and others, challengers; the earl of cumberland and company defendants, "into which number," says the narrator, "our prince was taken, and behaved himself so valiantly and skilfully therein, that he had the prize adjudged due unto him, which it pleased her majesty to deliver him with her own hands; telling him, that it was not her gift, for if it had, it should have been better; but she gave it to him, as that prize which was due to his desert, and good behaviour in those exercises; and that hereafter he should be remembered with a better reward from herself. the prize was a jewel, set with seventeen diamonds and four rubies; in value accounted worth a hundred marks." the following is the gray's inn list of performers, which included some gentlemen who were afterwards "distinguished members in the law." [from "gesta grayorum," page .] "the order of the prince of purpoole's proceedings, with his officers and attendants at his honourable inthronization; which was likewise observed in all his solemn marches on grand days, and like occasions; which place every officer did duly attend, during the reign of his highness's government. a marshal.} {a marshal. trumpets. } {trumpets. pursuevant at arms _lanye._ townsmen in the prince's livery} {yeomen of the guard with halberts. } {three couples. captain of the guard _grimes._ baron of the grand port _dudley._ baron of the base port _grante._ gentlemen for entertainment, three couples _binge, &c._ baron of the petty port _williams._ baron of the new port _lovel._ {_wentworth._ gentlemen for entertainment, three couples {_zukenden._ {_forrest._ lieutenant of the pensioners _tonstal._ gentlemen pensioners, twelve couples, viz.: lawson. } {rotts. } {davison. devereux. } {anderson.} { stapleton.} {glascott.} { daniel. } {elken. } {cum reliquis. chief ranger and master of the game _forrest._ master of the revels _lambert._ master of the revellers _tevery._ captain of the pensioners _cooke._ sewer _archer._ carver _moseley._ another sewer _drewery._ cup-bearer _painter._ groom-porter _bennet._ sheriff _leach._ clerk of the council _jones._ clerk of the parliament. clerk of the crown _downes._ orator _heke._ recorder _starkey._ solicitor _dunne._ serjeant _goldsmith._ speaker of the parliament _bellen._ commissary _greenwood._ attorney _holt._ serjeant _hitchcombe._ master of the requests _faldo._ chancellor of the exchequer _kitts._ master of the wards and idiots _ellis._ reader _cobb._ lord chief baron of the exchequer _briggs._ master of the rolls _hetlen._ lord chief baron of the common pleas _damporte._ lord chief justice of the princes bench _crew._ master of the ordnance _fitz-williams._ lieutenant of the tower _lloyd._ master of the jewel-house _darlen._ treasurer of the house-hold _smith._ knight marshal _bell._ master of the ward-robe _conney._ comptroller of the house-hold _bouthe._ bishop of st. giles's in the fie _dandye._ steward of the house-hold _smith._ lord warden of the four ports _damporte._ secretary of state _jones._ lord admiral _cecil (richard)._ lord treasurer _morrey._ lord great chamberlain _southworth._ lord high constable. lord marshal _knapolck._ lord privy seal _lamphew._ lord chamberlain of the house-hold _markham._ lord high steward _kempe._ lord chancellor _johnson._ archbishop of st. andrews in holborn _bush._ serjeant at arms, with the mace _flemming._ gentleman-usher _chevett._ the shield of pegasus, for the inner-temple _scevington._ serjeant at arms, with the sword _glascott._ gentleman-usher _paylor._ the shield of the griffin, for gray's-inn _wickliffe._ the king at arms _perkinson._ the great shield of the prince's arms _cobley._ the prince of purpoole _helmes._ a page of honour _wandforde._ gentlemen of the privy chamber, six couples. a page of honour _butler (roger)._ vice-chamberlain _butler (thomas)._ master of the horse _fitz-hugh._ yeomen of the guard, three couples. townsmen in liveries. the family and followers." christmas's lamentation is the subject of an old song preserved in the roxburgh collection of ballads in the british museum. the full title is: "christmas's lamentation for the losse of his acquaintance; showing how he is forst to leave the country and come to london." it appears to have been published at the end of the sixteenth or the beginning of the seventeenth century. the burden of the song is that christmas "charity from the country is fled," and the first verse will sufficiently indicate the style of the writing:-- christmas is my name, far have i gone, have i gone, have i gone, have i gone, without regard, whereas great men by flocks there be flown, there be flown, there be flown, there be flown, to london-ward; where they in pomp and pleasure do waste that which christmas was wonted to feast, welladay! houses where music was wont for to ring nothing but bats and owlets do sing. welladay! welladay! welladay! where should i stay? old christmas returned is the title of a lively christmas ditty which is a kind of reply to the preceding ballad. it is preserved in the collection formed by samuel pepys, some time secretary to the admiralty, and author of the famous diary, and by him bequeathed to magdalene college, cambridge. the full title and first verse of the old song are as follows:-- "old christmas returned, or hospitality revived; being a looking-glass for rich misers, wherein they may see (if they be not blind) how much they are to blame for their penurious house-keeping, and likewise an encouragement to those noble-minded gentry, who lay out a great part of their estates in hospitality, relieving such persons as have need thereof: 'who feasts the poor, a true reward shall find, or helps the old, the feeble, lame, and blind.'" "all you that to feasting and mirth are inclined, come, here is good news for to pleasure your mind; old christmas is come for to keep open house, he scorns to be guilty of starving a mouse; then come, boys, and welcome, for diet the chief, plum-pudding, goose, capon, minc'd pies, and roast beef." christmas-keeping in the country was revived in accordance with the commands of queen elizabeth, who listened sympathetically to the "lamentations" of her lowlier subjects. their complaint was that the royal and public pageants at christmastide allured to the metropolis many country gentlemen, who, neglecting the comforts of their dependents in the country at this season, dissipated in town part of their means for assisting them, and incapacitated themselves from continuing that hospitality for which the country had been so long noted. in order to check this practice, the gentlemen of norfolk and suffolk were commanded by queen elizabeth to depart from london before christmas, and "to repair to their counties, and there to keep hospitality amongst their neighbours." the presence of the higher classes was needed among the country people to give that assistance which was quaintly recommended by tusser in his "hundreth good points of husbandrie": "at christmas be mery, and thanke god of all: and feast thy pore neighbours, the great with the small. yea al the yere long have an eie to the poore: and god shall sende luck to kepe open thy doore." henry lord berkeley, who had a seat in warwickshire, appears to have set a good example in this respect to the noblemen of the period, for, according to dugdale, "the greatest part of this lord's abydinge after his mother's death, happenynge in the sixth yeare of queen elizabeth, was at callowdon, till his own death in the eleventh of kinge james, from whence, once in two or three yeares, hee used in july to come to berkeley." the historic house of berkeley essentially belongs to gloucestershire; but on the death of edward vi., henry lord berkeley, [illustration: "with a good old fashion, when christmas was come, to call in all his old neighbours with bagpipe and drum."] by descent from the mowbrays and the segraves, became possessed of the ancient manor and castellated mansion of caludon, near coventry, where he lived in splendour, and kept a grand retinue, being profuse in his hospitalities at christmas, as well as in his alms to the poor throughout the year. "as touchinge the almes to the poore of & six country p'ishes & villages hard adjoyninge to callowdon were relieved, with each of them a neepe of holsome pottage, with a peece of beoffe or mutton therin, halfe a cheate loafe, & a kan of beere, besides the private almes that dayly went out of his purse never without eight or ten shillings in single money of ijd iijd & groates, & besides his maundy & thursday before ester day, wherein many poore men and women were clothed by the liberality of this lord and his first wife, whilest they lived; and besides twenty markes, or twenty pound, or more, which thrice each yeare, against the feaste of christmas, ester, and whitsontide, was sent by this lord to two or three of the chiefest inhabitants of these villages, and of gosford street at coventry, to bee distributed amongst the poore accordinge to their discretions. such was the humanity of this lord, that in tymes of christmas and other festyvalls, when his neighbor townships were invited and feasted in his hall, hee would, in the midst of their dynner, ryse from his owne, & goynge to each of their tables in his hall, cheerfully bid them welcome. and his further order was, having guests of honour or remarkable ranke that filled his owne table, to seate himselfe at the lower end; and when such guests filled but half his bord, & a meaner degree the rest of his table, then to seate himselfe the last of the first ranke, & the first of the later, which was about the midst of his large tables, neare the salt." another home of christmas hospitality in the days of "good queen bess" was penshurst in kent, the birthplace of the distinguished and chivalrous sir philip sidney. "all who enjoyed the hospitality of penshurst," says mills's _history of chivalry_, "were equal in consideration of the host; there were no odious distinctions of rank or fortune; 'the dishes did not grow coarser as they receded from the head of the table,' and no huge salt-cellar divided the noble from the ignoble guests." that hospitality was the honourable distinction of the sidney family in general is also evident from ben jonson's lines on penshurst: "whose liberal board doth flow with all that hospitality doth know! where comes no guest but is allow'd to eat, without his fear, and of thy lord's own meat where the same beer and bread, and self-same wine, that is his lordship's, shall be also mine."[ ] a reviewer of "the sidneys of penshurst," by philip sidney, says there is a tradition that the black prince and his fair maid of kent once spent their christmastide at penshurst, whose banqueting hall, one of the finest in england, dates back to that age of chivalry. at penshurst spenser wrote part of his "shepherd's calendar," and ben jonson drank and rhymed and revelled in this stateliest of english manor houses. [illustration: christmas in the hall. "a man might then behold, at christmas, in each hall, good fires to curb the cold, and meat for great and small."] queen elizabeth died on march , , after nominating james vi. of scotland as her successor, and the accession of king james, as james i. of england, united the crowns of england and scotland, which had been the aim of mary queen of scots before her death. [ ] cassell's "history of england." [ ] "domestic memoirs of the royal family." [ ] "history of the english people." [ ] "progresses." [ ] "english plays." [ ] sir william dugdale's "origines juridiciales." [ ] "progresses." [ ] "history of music," vol iii. p. . [ ] gifford's "ben jonson," vol. viii. p. . [illustration] _chapter viii._ christmas under james i. ( - .) court masques. the court entertainments of christmastide in the reign of james the first consisted chiefly of the magnificent masques of ben jonson and others, who, by their training in the preceding reign, had acquired a mastery of the dramatic art. the company to which shakespeare belonged (that of lord chamberlain's players) became the king's players on the accession of james, and several of shakespeare's plays were produced at court. but very early in this reign plays gave place to the more costly and elaborate entertainments called masques, but which were very different from the dumb-show masques of elizabeth's reign, the masquerades of henry the eighth, and the low-buffoonery masques of earlier times. at the court of james thousands of pounds were sometimes expended on the production of a single masque. to the aid of poetry, composed by poets of the first rank, came the most skilful musicians and the most ingenious machinists. inigo jones, who became architect to the court in , shared honours with ben jonson in the production of the court masques, as did also henry lawes, the eminent musician. in some of the masques the devices of attire were the work of "master jones," as well as the invention and the architecture of the whole of the scenery. d'israeli[ ] says:--"that the moveable scenery of these masques formed as perfect a scenical illusion as any that our own age, with all its perfection and decoration, has attained to, will not be denied by those who have read the few masques that have been printed. they usually contrived a double division of the scene; one part was for some time concealed from the spectator, which produced surprise and variety. thus in the lord's masque, at the marriage of the palatine, the scene was divided into two parts from the roof to the floor; the lower part being first discovered, there appeared a wood in perspective, the innermost part being of "releeve or whole round," the rest painted. on the left a cave, and on the right a thicket from which issued orpheus. at the back of the scene, at the sudden fall of a curtain, the upper part broke on the spectators, a heaven of clouds of all hues; the stars suddenly vanished, the clouds dispersed; an element of artificial fire played about the house of prometheus--a bright and transparent cloud reaching from the heavens to the earth, whence the eight maskers descended with the music of a full song; and at the end of their descent the cloud broke in twain, and one part of it, as with a wind, was blown athwart the scene. while this cloud was vanishing, the wood, being the under part of the scene, was insensibly changing: a perspective view opened, with porticoes on each side, and female statues of silver, accompanied with ornaments of architecture, filled the end of the house of prometheus, and seemed all of goldsmith's work. the women of prometheus descended from their niches till the anger of jupiter turned them again into statues. it is evident, too, that the size of the procenium accorded with the magnificence of the scene; for i find choruses described, 'and changeable conveyances of the song,' in manner of an echo, performed by more than forty different voices and instruments in various parts of the scene." the masque, as lord bacon says, was composed for princes, and by princes it was played. the king and queen, prince henry, and prince charles (afterwards charles the first) all appeared in court masques, as did also the nobility and gentry of the court, foreign ambassadors, and other eminent personages. in his notes to "the masque of queens," ben jonson refers several times to "the king's majesty's book (our sovereign) of demonology." the goat ridden was said to be often the devil himself, but "of the green cock, we have no other ground (to confess ingenuously) than a vulgar fable of a witch, that with a cock of that colour, and a bottom of blue thread, would transport herself through the air; and so escaped (at the time of her being brought to execution) from the hand of justice. it was a tale when i went to school." that there was no lack of ability for carrying out the court commands in regard to the christmas entertainments of this period is evident from the company of eminent men who used to meet at the "mermaid." "sir walter raleigh," says gifford,[ ] "previously to his unfortunate engagement with the wretched cobham and others, had instituted a meeting of _beaux esprits_ at the mermaid, a celebrated tavern in friday street. of this club, which combined more talent and genius, perhaps, than ever met together before or since, jonson was a member; and here, for many years, he regularly repaired with shakespeare, beaumont, fletcher, selden, cotton, carew, martin, donne, and many others, whose names, even at this distant period, call up a mingled feeling of reverence and respect." here, in the full flow and confidence of friendship, the lively and interesting "wit-combats" took place between shakespeare and jonson; and hither, in probable allusion to them, beaumont fondly lets his thoughts wander in his letter to jonson from the country. "what things have we seen, done at the mermaid? heard words that have been, so nimble, and so full of subtle flame, as if that every one from whom they came, had meant to put his whole wit in a jest," &c. masques, however, were not the only christmas diversions of royalty at this period, for james i. was very fond of hunting, and nichols[ ] says that, in , the king kept a royal christmas at royston, at his new hunting seat there, and "between the th of december and nd of january he there knighted sir richard hussey, of salop; sir edward bushell, of gloucestershire; sir john fenwick, of northumberland; sir john huet, of london; sir robert jermyn, of suffolk; sir isaac jermyn, of suffolk; sir john rowse; sir thomas muschamp, of surrey. mr. chamberlaine, in a letter to mr. winwood from london, december th, says: 'the king came back from royston on saturday; but so far from being weary or satisfyed with those sports, that presently after the holy-days he makes reckoning to be there againe, or, as some say, to go further towards lincolnshire, to a place called _ancaster heath_.'" in this letter mr. chamberlaine also refers to other court amusements of christmastide, for, proceeding, he says:-- "in the meantime here is great provision for cockpit, to entertaine him at home, and of masks and revells against the marriage of sir philip herbert and the lady susan vere, which is to be celebrated on st. john's day. the queen hath likewise a great mask in hand against twelfth-tide, for which there was £ , delivered a month ago. her brother, the duke of holst, is here still, procuring a levy of men to carry into hungary. the tragedy of 'gowry,' with all the action and actors, hath been twice represented by the king's players, with exceeding concourse of all sorts of people; but whether the matter or manner be not well handled, or that it be thought unfit that princes should be played on the stage in their lifetime, i hear that some great councellors are much displeased with it, and so 'tis thought shall be forbidden. and so wishing a merry christmas and many a good year to you and mrs. winwood, i committ you to god. yours, most assuredly, john chamberlaine." "on the th of january, mr. chamberlaine writes thus to mr. winwood: 'i doubt not but dudley carleton hath acquainted you with all their christmas-games at court, for he was a spectator of all the sports and shows. the king went to royston two days after twelfth-tide, where and thereabout he hath continued ever since, and finds such felicity in that hunting life, that he hath written to the councill that it is the only means to maintain his health, which being the health and welfare of us all, he desires them to take the charge and burden of affairs, and foresee that he be not interrupted or _troubled with too much business_.'" campion's masque in honour of lord hayes and his bride was presented before king james, at whitehall, on twelfth night, ; and in reference to the christmas festivities at court the following year ( ), mr. chamberlaine, writing to sir d. carleton, on the th of january, says: "the masque goes forward at court for twelfth-day, though i doubt the new room will be scant ready. all the holidays there were plays; but with so little concourse of strangers, that they say they wanted company. the king was very earnest to have one on christmas-night; but the lords told him it was not the fashion. which answer pleased him not a whit; but he said, 'what do you tell me of the fashion? i will make it a fashion.' yesterday he dined in the presence in great pomp, with two rich cupboards of plate, the one gold, the other that of the house of burgundy pawned to queen elizabeth by the states of brabant, and hath seldom been seen abroad, being exceeding massy, fair, and sumptuous. i could learn no reason of this extraordinary bravery, but that he would show himself in glory to certain scots that were never here before, as they say there be many lately come, and that the court is full of new and strange faces. yesterday there were to be shewn certain rare fire-works contrived by a dane, two dutchmen, and sir thomas challoner, in concert." on january th, another letter of mr. chamberlaine thus refers to gaming at court: "on the twelfth-eve there was great golden play at court. no gamester admitted that brought not £ at least. montgomery played the king's money, and won him £ , which he had for his labour. the lord montegle lost the queen £ . sir robert cary, for the prince, £ ; and the earl salisbury, £ ; the lord buckhurst, £ ; _et sic de cæteris_. so that i heard of no winner but the king and sir francis wolley, who got above £ . the king went a hawking-journey yesterday to theobalds and returns to-morrow. "above westminster the thames is quite frozen over; and the archbishop came from lambeth, on twelfth-day, over the ice to court. many fanciful experiments are daily put in practice; as certain youths burnt a gallon of wine upon the ice, and made all the passengers partakers. but the best is, of an honest woman (they say) that had a great longing to encrease her family on the thames" (nichols's "progresses"). the reign of james i.'s favourites dates from christmas day, , when he knighted robert carr, or ker, a young border scot of the kers of fernihurst, the first of the favourites who ruled both the king and the kingdom. carr had been some years in france, and being a handsome youth--"straight-limbed, well-formed, strong-shouldered, and smooth-faced"--he had been led to believe that if he cultivated his personal appearance and a courtliness of address, he was sure of making his fortune at the court of james. "accordingly he managed to appear as page to lord dingwall at a grand tilting match at westminster, in . according to chivalric usage it became his duty to present his lord's shield to his majesty; but in manoeuvring his horse on the occasion it fell and broke his leg. that fall was his rise. james was immediately struck with the beauty of the youth who lay disabled at his feet, and had him straightway carried into a house near charing cross, and sent his own surgeon to him.... on christmas day, , james knighted him and made him a gentleman of the bedchamber, so as to have him constantly about his person. such was his favour that every one pressed around him to obtain their suits with the king. he received rich presents; the ladies courted his attention; the greatest lords did him the most obsequious and disgusting homage."[ ] he afterwards formed that connection with frances howard, countess of essex, which resulted in her divorce from her husband, and, subsequently, on his marrying lady essex, the king made him earl of somerset, that the lady might not lose in rank. on the circumstances attending the murder of sir thomas overbury being brought to light, the complicity of somerset was thought to be involved in the ascertained guilt of his wife. in may, , the countess was convicted; a week later her husband shared her fate. after a long imprisonment somerset was pardoned, and ended his life in obscurity. in this reign the court revels and shows of christmas were imitated at the country seats of the nobility and gentry, and at the colleges of oxford and cambridge. an account has been preserved of one of the most remarkable exhibitions of this kind, entitled-- "the christmas prince." it took place in the year , at st. john's college, oxford, and the authentic account was published from the original manuscript, in , by robert tripbook, of , old bond street, london: "to the president, fellows, and scholars of st. john baptist college, in the university of oxford, this curious record of an ancient custom in their society, is respectfully inscribed by the publisher." of the authenticity of this description the publisher says "no doubt can possibly exist, it was written by an eye-witness of, and performer in, the sports; and is now printed, for the first time, from the original manuscript preserved in the college library. "from the boy bishop, the christmas prince may be supposed to derive his origin. whilst the former was bearing sway in the ecclesiastical foundations, the latter was elected to celebrate the festivities of christmas in the king's palace, at the seats of the nobility, at the universities, and in the inns of court. the custom prevailed till the ascendancy of the puritans during the civil war; and some idea of the expense, and general support it received, may be formed from the account of the gray's inn prince and an extract from one of the strafford papers. the latter is from a letter written by the rev. g. garrard to the earl of strafford, dated jan. , : 'the middle temple house have set up a prince, who carries himself in great state; one mr. vivian a cornish gentleman, whose father sir francis vivian was fined in the star-chamber about a castle he held in cornwall, about three years since. he hath all his great officers attending him, lord keeper, lord treasurer, eight white staves at the least, captain of his pensioners, captain of his guard, two chaplains, who on sunday last preached before him, and in the pulpit made three low legs to his excellency before they began, which is much laughed at. my lord chamberlain lent him two fair cloths of state, one hung up in the hall under which he dines, the other in his privy chamber; he is served on the knee, and all that come to see him kiss his hand on their knee. my lord of salisbury hath sent him pole-axes for his pensioners. he sent to my lord of holland, his justice in eyre, for venison, which he willingly sends him; to the lord mayor and sheriffs of london for wine, all obey. twelfth-day was a great day, going to the chapel many petitions were delivered him, which he gave to his masters of the requests. he hath a favourite, whom with some others, gentlemen of great quality, he knighted at his return from church, and dined in great state; at the going out of the chambers into the garden, when he drank the king's health, the glass being at his mouth he let it fall, which much defaced his purple satten suit, for so he was clothed that day, having a cloak of the same down to his foot, for he mourns for his father who lately died. it cost this prince £ , out of his own purse. i hear of no other design, but that all this is done to make them fit to give the prince elector a royal entertainment with masks, dancings, and some other exercises of wit, in orations or arraignments, that day that they invite him.' "the writer, or narrator, of the events connected with the christmas prince of st. john's was griffin higgs, who was descended of a respectable and opulent family in gloucestershire, though he was himself born at stoke abbat, near henley on thames, in . he was educated at st. john's, and thence, in , elected fellow of merton college, where he distinguished himself, in the execution of the procuratorial duties, as a man of great courage, though, says wood, of little stature. in he was appointed chaplain to the queen of bohemia, by her brother charles the first, and during his absence, in the performance of his duties, was created a doctor of divinity at leyden by the learned andrew rivet. he returned, after a residence abroad of about twelve years, when he had the valuable rectory of clive or cliff, near dover, and shortly after the deanery of lichfield, conferred upon him. during the civil wars he was a sufferer for the royal cause, and, losing his preferment, retired to the place of his birth, where he died in the year , and was buried in the chancel of the church of south stoke. "thomas tucker, the elected prince, was born in london, in , entered at st. john's in , became fellow of that house and took holy orders. he afterwards had the vicarage of pipping-burge, or pemberge, in kent, and the rectory of portshead, near bristol, and finally obtained the third stall in the cathedral church of bristol, in which he was succeeded, august , , by richard standfast." the following explanation is given of "the apparently strange titles of the prince of st. john's: 'the most magnificent and renowned thomas, by the favour of fortune, prince of _alba fortunata_, lord st. johns, high regent of the hall, duke of st. giles, marquis of magdalens, landgrave of the grove, county palatine of the cloisters, chief bailiff of the beaumonts, high ruler of rome, master of the manor of waltham, governor of gloucester green, sole commander of all tilts,' &c. the prince of _alba fortunata_ alludes, as may be readily conjectured, to the name of the founder, sir thomas _white_; st. john's, and the hall, are equally clear; magdalens is the parish in which a portion of the college stands, and a part of which belongs to the society; the grove and the cloisters are again parts of the home domain of the college; beaumonts is the name of a portion of land belonging to the college, on which stands the ruin of the palace of beaumonts, built about the year by king henry the first; rome is a piece of land so called, near to the end of the walk called _non ultra_, on the north side of oxford. the manor of waltham, or walton, is situate in the north suburb of oxford, and is the property of the college, as is a considerable portion of gloucester-green, which though now better known as the site of an extensive bridewell, was in literally a meadow, and without any building more contiguous than gloucester-hall, from which house it derived its name." then follows "a true and faithfull relation of the rising and fall of thomas tucker, prince of _alba fortunata_, lord st. johns, &c., with all the occurrents which happened throughout his whole domination." "it happened in the yeare of our lord , the of october, beinge all sayntes eve, that at night a fier was made in the hall of st. john baptist's colledge, in oxon, accordinge to the custome and statuts of the same place, at which time the whole companye or most parte of the students of the same house mette together to beginne their christmas, of which some came to see sports, to witte the seniors as well graduates, as under-graduates. others to make sports, viz., studentes of the seconde yeare, whom they call poulderlings, others to make sporte with all, of this last sorte were they whome they call fresh-menn, punies of the first yeare, who are by no meanes admitted to be agents or behoulders of those sports, before themselves have been patient perfourmers of them. but (as it often falleth out) the freshmen or patients, thinkinge the poulderlings or agentes too buysie and nimble, they them too dull and backwarde in theyr duety, the standers by findinge both of them too forwarde and violente, the sportes for that night for feare of tumultes weare broken upp, everye mann betakinge himself to his reste. "the next night followinge, beinge the feast of all sayntes, at nighte they mett agayne together; and whereas it was hoped a night's sleepe would have somewhat abated their rage, it contraryewise sett a greater edge on theyr furye, they havinge all this while but consulted how to gett more strength one agaynst another, and consequently to breed newe quarrells and contradictions, in so much that the strife and contentions of youthes and children had like to have sett men together by the eares, to the utter annihilatinge of all christmas sportes for the whole yeare followinge. "wherfore for the avoydinge both the one, and the other, some who studied the quiet of all, mentioned the choosinge of a christmas lord, or prince of the revells, who should have authorytie both to appoynt & moderate all such games, and pastimes as should ensue, & to punishe all offenders which should any way hinder or interrupte the free & quiet passage of any antient & allowed sporte. "this motion (for that the person of a prince or lorde of the revells had not been knowen amongst them for thirty yeares before, and so consequentlye the danger, charge and trouble of such jestinge was cleane forgotten) was presentlye allowed and greedilye apprehended of all; wher upon of the senior under graduates ( of the bodye of the house & comoners, electors in such a case) withdrew themselves into the parlour, where after longe debatinge whether they should chouse a graduate or an under graduate, thinkinge the former would not vouchsafe to undertake it at theyr appoyntmentes, the latter should not be upheld & backed as it was meete & necessary for such a place, they came forth rather to make triall what would be done, than to resolve what should be done. and therefore at their first entrance into the hall meeting sir towse a younge man (as they thought) fitt for the choyse, they laid handes on him, and by maine strength liftinge him upp, _viva voce_, pronounced him lord. but hee as stronglye refusinge the place as they violentlye thrust it upon him, shewing with all reasons why hee could by no meanes undergoe such a charge, they gott onlye this good by their first attempt, that they understood heer by how that the whole colledge was rather willinge a seniour batchelour at least, if not a junior master should be chosen in to the place rather than any under graduate, because they would rather an earnest sporte than a scoffinge jest should be made of it. wher fore the electors returninge againe into the parlour and shuttinge the dore close upon themselves begaune more seriously to consult of the matter, and findinge some unable, some unwillinge to take the place, at length they concluded to make the weird printing error?] assay but with more formalitie and deliberation; resolvinge, if they were not now seconded of all handes, to meddle no more with it. wherfore, enteringe the second time in to the hall they desired one of the seniors & one of the deanes of the colledge to hold the scrutinye and the vice-president to sitt by as overseer, who willingly harkeninge to their request, sate all downe at the highe table: then the electors went up one by one in senioritye to give their voyce by writinge. in the meane time there was great expectation who should bee the man. some in the lower ende of the hall, to make sporte, had theyr names loudest in their mouthes whome they least thought of in their mindes, & whome they knew should come shortest of the place. at length all the voyces being given and, accordinge to custome, the scrutinie at large being burned, the vice-president with the rest stoode upp, and out of the abstract the deane read distinctly in the hearinge of all present as followeth "_nominantur in hoc scrutinio duo quorum_ { joanes towse, _habet suffragia sex_. { us thomas tucker, _habet suffragia septem_. "these wordes were not out of his mouthe before a generall and loud crie was made of tucker, tucker, vivat, vivat, &ct. after which all the younger sorte rane forth of the colledge crieinge the same in the streets; which sir tucker beinge then howsde not farr from the colledge, over hearinge, kept himself close till the companye were past, and then, as soone and secretly as he could, gott him to his chamber; where (after he had been longe sought for abroad in the towne, and at home in the colledge, haste and desire out runinge it self, and seekinge there last where it might first finde) he was in a manner surprised, and more by violence than any will of his owne, taken upp & with continuall & joyfull outcries, carried about the hall, and so backe to his chamber, as his owne request was, where for that night he rested, dismissinge the company and desiringe some time to think of their loves and goodwill, and to consider of his owne charge and place. "about or dayes after, on the of november the lord elect with the batchelours, and some of the senior under-graduates came into the hall where every man beinge seated in his order, many speaches were made by diverse of diverse matters, some commendinge a monarchicall state of governmente, and the sometimes suddayne necessitye of dictators, others discommendinge both. some again extollinge sportes & revells, others mainely disallowinge them, all of them drawinge some conclusion concerninge the like or dislike of the government newly begune, and like for a little space to continue amongst them. in the ende the lord elect himselfe, to conclude all, delivered his owne minde in manner followinge:-- "quæ beneficia (viri electores clarissimi) plus difficultatis atque, oneris apportant collacata, qu[=a] debite administrata; poterunt honoris, cautè magis primo in limine credo excipienda qu[=a] aut imensæ dignitatis expectatione appetenda auidè, aut boni incogniti coeco appetitu app'hendenda temere. quor[=u] in albo (electores conscripti) c[=u] semper dignitates istiusmodi serio retulerim, vos (pace dic[=a] vestræ diligentiæ) non tam mihi videmini gratias debere expectare, qua ipse istud onus suscepturus videor promereri. n[=a] illud demum gratijs excipitur benefici[=u] (pro tempor[=u] ratione loquor) quod nec sollicitudo vrget nec offici[=u]--infinitæ autem adeo sunt anxietates, quæ vel istam dominatus [greek: anatypôsin] circumcingunt, vt pauci velint ipsas c[=u] dominatu lubentèr amplecti, nulli possint euitare, nulli sustinere. n[=a] vbi veri imperij facies est repræsentanda expectanda semper est aliqua curar[=u] proportio. veru cum dignitas electoria, amicitia suffragatoria, populi applausus, [=o]ni[=u] consensus democratiæ tollendæ causâ ad primatum euocauerint, lubens animi nostri strenuæ renuentis temperabo impet[=u], et sedulò impendà curam, vt reip: (si vobis minus possim singulis) toti satisfaci[=a]. hic ego non ità existimo opportun[=u] progressu[=u] nostror[=u] aduersarijs cur[=a] imperij promiscuam et indigestam collaudantibus respondere, aut status monarchici necessitat[=e] efferentibus assentari: disceptation[=u] vestrar[=u] non accessi judex, accersor imperator; amori vestro (viri nobis ad prime chari) lubens tribuo gloriæ nostræ ort[=u]; progress[=u] august[=u] atque, gloriosu a vobis ex officio vestro exigere, præter amor[=e] nostrum fore no arbitror. tyra[=u]idem non profiteor, imperi[=u] exercebo. cujus foeliciores processus vt promoueantur, atque indies stabiliant æris magis quam oris debetis esse prodigi. quarè primitias amoris, atque officij vestri statuo extemplo exigendas, nè aut ipse sinè authoritate imperare, aut imperium sinè gloriâ capessisse videar [greek: politeian] atheniensem sequimur, cujus ad norman ego ad munus regui jam suffectus, mineruæ, vulcano et prometheo sacra c[=u] ludorum curatoribus pro moris vsu, primâ meâ in his sacris authoritate fieri curabo. interim vero (viri nostrâ authoritate adhuc majores) juxta prædictæ reipublicæ jmagin[=e] choragos, seu adjutores desidero, qui n[=o] tantum ludis præponantur, sed et liberalitate pro op[=u] ratione in reipublicæ impensas vtentes, ex ære publico præmia partim proponant, partim de suo insumant, hoc nomine quod illor[=u] sint præfecti. quæ alia vestri sunt officij moniti præstabitis, quæ amoris, vltro (vti spero) offeretis. "this was counted sufficient for his private installmente, but with all it was thought necessary that some more publicke notice hereof should be given to the whole universitie, with more solemnitie and better fashion; yet before they would venter to publish their private intendements, they were desirous to knowe what authoritie and jurisdiction would be graunted to them, what money allowed them towards the better going through with that they had begune. and not long after the whole company of the batchelours sent bills to the masters fire, the one cravinge duety and alleageance, the other money and maintenance in manner & forme followinge: "the coppye of a bill sent by the lord elect, and the whole company of the batchelours to the masters fire, cravinge their duety and alleageance. "not doubtinge of those ceremonious and outward duetyes which yourselves (for example sake) will performe, wee _thomas tucker_ with the rest of the bacchelours are bold to entreat, but as _thomas, lord elect_, with the rest of our councell are ready to expect, that no tutor or officer whatsoever shall at any time, or upon any occasion, intermeddle, or partake with any scholler, or youth whatsoever, but leavinge all matters to the discretion of our selves, stand to those censures and judgementes which wee shall give of all offenders that are under our govermente in causes appertaininge to our government. all wayes promisinge a carefull readinesse to see schollerlike excercise performed, and orderly quietnesse mayntained in all sortes; this as wee promise for our owne partes, so wee would willingly desire that you should promise the performance of the rest of your partes, accordinge to that bountye & love which allready you have shewed us. yours, thomas tucker joseph fletcher thomas downer john smith rouland juxon richard baylye john huckstepp richard holbrooke james bearblocke john towse john english "this bill subscribed with all their handes was seene and allowed by all the masters, who promised rather more than lesse than that which was demanded. but concerninge the other bill for subsidyes, it was answered that it was not in their power to grant it without the president, whose cominge home was every day expected: against which time it was provided, and delivered unto him; who together with the seniors, was loath to grant any thinge till they were certified what sportes should bee, of what quality & charge, that so they might the better proportion the one to the other, the meanes to the matter: they were allso willinge to knowe what particular men would take upon them the care of furnishinge particular nightes. for they would by no meanes relye upon generall promises because they were not ignorant how that which concerneth all in generall is by no man in speciall regarded. wherfore they beinge somewhat, although not fully, satisfied in their demaundes by some of the masters, whom they seemed cheefly to trust with the whole businesse, the bill was againe perused, and every man ceazed in manner and forme followinge: "'the coppye of an auncient act for taxes and subsidyes made in the raygne of our predecessor of famous memorye, in this parliament held in aula regni the vi^{th} of november and now for our self new ratified and published, anno regni jº november º . "'because all lovinge & loyall subjects doe owe not onely themselves, but allso their landes, livinges, goodes, and what soever they call theirs, to the good of the commonwealth, and estate under which they peaceably enjoy all, it is further enacted that no man dissemble his estate, or hide his abilitye, but be willinge at all times to pay such duetyes, taxes, and subsidies, as shall be lawfully demaunded & thought reasonable without the hinderance of his owne estate, upon payne of forfettinge himself and his goodes whatsoever.' [list of contributions amounting to ^{li} xiii^{s.} vii] "though the whole company had thus largely contributed towards the ensuinge sportes, yet it was found that when all thinges necessary should be layed toegether, a great sum of money would be wantinge, and therfore a course was thought upon of sendinge out privie seales to able & willinge gentlemen which had been sometimes fellowes or commoners of the colledge that it would please them to better the stocke, and out of their good will contribute somewhat towardes the prince's revells." then followed the form of the writ issued, "to our trustye and welbeloved knight, or esquire," &c. "given under our privye seale at our pallace of st. john's in oxen, the seventh of december in the first yeare of our rayne, ." then follow "the names of those who were served with this writt, and who most willingly obeyed upon the receipt thereof," contributing altogether xvi^{li} x^{s} . "others were served and bragd of it, as though they had given, but sent nothing." "for all these subsidies at home, and helpes abroad, yet it was founde that in the ende there would rather be want (as indeed it happened) than any superfluitye, and therfore the prince tooke order with the bowsers to send out warrantes to all the tenantes & other friendes of the colledge, that they should send in extraordinary provision against every feast, which accordingly was performed; some sendinge money, some wine, some venison, some other provision, every one accordinge to his abilitye. "all thinges beinge thus sufficiently (as it was thought) provided for, the councell table, with the lord himself, mett together to nominate officers & to appoint the day of the prince's publike installment which was agreed should be on st. andrews day at night; because at that time the colledge allso was to chouse their new officers for the yeare followinge. "now for that they would not playnely and barely install him without any farther ceremonies, it was thought fitt that his whole ensuinge regiment (for good lucke sake) should be consecrated to the _deitie of fortune_, as the sole mistres and patronesse of his estate, and therfore a schollerlike devise called _ara fortunæ_ was provided for his installment; which was performed in manner & forme followinge: ara fortunÆ. _inter-locutores._ princeps. fortuna. tolmæa. thesaurarius. camerarius. jurisconsultus. philosophus. rusticus. stultus. rebellis primus. ---- secundus. ---- tertius. ---- quartus. nuncius. * * * * * [the drama is not given on account of its length. and it will be remarked that, whenever asterisks are substituted, some portion of the ms. has been omitted.] "this showe by ourselves was not thought worthye of a stage or scaffoldes, and therfore after supper the tables were onlye sett together, which was not done with out great toyle & difficulty, by reason of the great multitude of people (which, by the default of the dorekeepers, and divers others, every man bringinge in his friends) had filled the hall before wee thought of it. but for all this it began before of clock, and was well liked by the whole audience, who, how unrulye so ever they meante to bee afterwardes, resolved i think at first with their good applause and quiet behaviour to drawe us on so farr, as wee should not bee able to returne backwardes without shame & discreditt. they gave us at the ende severall & generall plaudites; at the wherof the canopie which hunge over the altare of fortune (as it had been frighted with the noise, or meante to signifie that plaudites were as much as it deserved) suddenly fell downe; but it was cleanly supported by some of the standers by till the company was voyded, that none but our selves took notice of it. "some upon the sight of this showe (for the better enoblinge of his person, and drawinge his pedigree even from the godes because the prince's name was tucker, and the last prince before him was dr. case) made this conceipt that _casus et fortuna genuerunt [greek: tycheron] principem fortunatum_--so the one his father, and the other his mother. "another accident worthy observation (and which was allso then observed) was that the foole carelesly sittinge downe at the prince's feete brake his staff in the midst, whence wee could not but directly gather a verye ill omen, that the default and follye of some would bee the very breaknecke of our ensueing sports, which how it fell out, i leave to the censures of others; our selves (i am sure) were guilty to our selves of many weaknesses and faultes, the number wherof were increased by the crossinge untowardnesse, and backwardnesse of divers of the prince's neerest followers, nay the prince himself had some weaknesses which did much prejudice his state, wherof the chiefest weere his openesse, and familiaritye with all sortes, beinge unwillinge to displease eny, yet not able to please all. but to proceede:--on st. thomas day at night the officers before elect were solemnly proclaimed by a sergeant at armes, and an herauld, the trumpetts soundinge beetwixt every title. this proclamation after it was read, was for a time hunge up in the hall, that every man might the better understande the qualitie of his owne place, and they that were of lower, or no place, might learne what duety to performe to others. "the manner wherof was as followeth: "whereas by the contagious poyson, and spreadinge malice of some ill disposed persons, hath been threatned not onelye the danger of subvertinge peaceable & orderlye proceedinges, but the allmost utter annihilatinge of auncient & laudable customes--it hath been thought convenient, or rather absolutely necessarye for the avoydinge of a most dangerous ensuinge anarchie, a more settled order of goverment, for the better safetye of all well meaninge subjects, and curbinge of discontented, headstronge persons, should bee established. and whereas through wante of good lawes by wise and discreet magistrates to bee duely and truely executed, a giddye conceipt hath possest the mindes of manye turbulent spirites, of endueringe no superiour, hardly an equall, whereby the common-wealth might growe to bee a manye-headed monster--it hath been provided by the staide and mature deliberations of well-experienced governours and provident counsellours, that one whose highe deserts might answere his high advancement should bee sett over all to the rulinge and directinge of all--therefore by these presentes bee it knowne unto all of what estate or condicion soever whome it shall concerne that thomas tucker, an honorable wise & learned gentleman to the great comeforte of the weale-publique from hence-forth to be reputed, taken and obayed for the true, onely and undoubted monarche of this revellinge climate, whom the generall consent and joynte approbation of the whole common-wealth hath invested and crowned with these honours and titles followinge: "the most magnificent and renowned thomas by the favour of fortune, prince of alba fortunata, lord st. johns, high regent of the hall, duke of st. giles, marquesse of magdalens, landgrave of the grove, county palatine of the cloisters, chiefe bailiffe of the beaumonts, high ruler of rome, maister of the manor of waltham, governour of gloster-greene, sole commaunder of all titles, tourneaments, and triumphes, superintendent in all solemnities whatsoever. "now because they whom the unknowne cares, & unweildie burdens of a sole regiment shall relie upon, neede extraordinary helpe in the more than ordinarye affaires, hee hath as well for the better discharge & ease of those royall duetyes (as it were) which attend on his place, as for the avoidinge the odious & ingratefull suspition of a single dominion, and private tyranye, selected and chosen unto himself a grave and learned assistance both for councell and government, whom, and every of which, his princely will is, shall in their severall places & dignities bee both honoured and obeid, with no lesse respect and observance than if himself were there present in person. and that carelesse ignorance may bee no lawfull excuse for the breach of his will therin hee hath appointed their severall names and titles, with their subordinate officers and deputies to be signified & proclaimed to all his lovinge and leige subjects, in manner followinge: "the right gracious john duke of groveland, earle de bello-monte, baron smith, chiefe ranger of the woods & forests, great master of the prince's game, hath for his subordinate officers-- sir frauncis hudson, keeper of the parkes, & warder of the warrens. sir thomas grice, forrester & sargeaunt of the woodhowse. "the right honourable rowland lord juxon, lord chauncelour, keeper of the great seale, signer of all publicke charters, allower of all priviledges, hath for his subordinate officers. sir william dickenson, master of the requests, & the prince's remembrancer. sir owen vertue, clerke of the signet, and chafer of waxe. "the right honourable thomas lord downer, lord high treasurer, receaver general of all rents, revenues, subsidies, belonginge by nature, custome or accident to the prince; the great payemaster of all necessary charges appertayninge to the court, hath for his subordinate officers-- sir john williamson, steward of the household, disburser for the familye. sir christopher wren, cofferer, and clerke of the exchequer. "the right honourable joseph lord fletcher, lord high admirall, great commaunder of all the narrow seas, floods and passages; surveyor of the navye, mayster of the ordinance, hath for his subordinate officers, sir stephen angier, warden of the cinque ports, and victualler of the fleet. sir anthony steevens, captayne of the guard. "the right honourable richard lord baylie, lord high marshall, president of all titles, and tourneaments, commander in all triumphes, suppressor of suddayne tumultes, supervisor of all games, and publique pastimes, hath for his subordinate officers, sir william blagrove, master of the revells. sir john hungerford, knight marshall, severe commander of the wayes for the prince's passage. "the right honourable john lord towse, lord high chamberlayne, purveyor for the prince's pallace, overseer of all feasts and banquets, furnisher of all chambers, and galleries, examiner of all private pastimes, hath for his subordinate officers, sir richard swinerton} the prince's wards and sir william cheyney } squiers of his bodye. mr. edward cooper, groome-porter. "the right honourable richard lord holbrooke, comptroller generall, chiefe overseer of all purseavants, orderer of all household servaunts, hath for his subordinate officers, sir thomas stanley} sergeaunts at armes & gentlemen ushers mr. john alford } to the prince mr. brian nailor, master of the robes of state, keeper of the wardrobe, and surveyor of liveries. "the right honourable james lord berbloke, principall secretarye, lord privye seale, designer of all embasies, drawer of all edicts and letters, scribe to the state, hath for his subordinate officers, sir thomas clarke, master of the roles, & prothonotarye. mr. marcheaumount nedham, clerke of the councell-table. "the right honourable john lord english, lord chiefe justice, examiner of all causes capitall; sessor upon life and death, judge of controversies criminall, hath for his subordinate officers, sir john alder, attourney generall, and the prince's solicitor. mr. john sackevile, baylife erraunt. "now because good governours without good laws, carefull magistrates without wholesome statutes are like dumb (though paynted) images, or unweapon'd soldiers--hee of his absolute authoritye, conferred upon him in the late free election, doth ratifie and establish all such decrees and statutes, as hee now findeth wisely and warely ordayned of his famous predecessor; promisinge onely by a full and severe execution to put life in their dead remembrance, adding moreover some few cautions to be observed in his ensuinge triumphs." these statutes were ratified and established by the prince "at our manor of whites-hall, december the st in the first of our raygne." "the same night the prince, with the rest of his councell meetinge at the high table in the hall, a bill was preferred by the lord treasurer for the advancement of mr. henery swinarton to the earldome of cloyster-sheere, and the over-seeinge of the princes great librarye." after due consideration, "the prince at length graunted the request, and his title was presently drawne by the clerke of the councell-table, and pronounced in manner followinge: "the right honourable henry lord swinarton, earle of cloister-sheer, barron of the garden, chiefe master of the presse, and overseer of the prince's great librarye, hath for his subordinate officers, mr. william rippin, surveyor of the walkes. mr. christopher riley, corrector of the printe. "from this time forward, and not before, the prince was thought fully to be instal'd, and the forme of government fully established, in-so-much that none might or durst contradict anything which was appoynted by himself, or any of his officers. "the holy-dayes beinge now at hand, his privye-chamber was provided and furnisht, wherein a chayre of state was placed upon a carpett with a cloth of state hanged over it, newly made for the same purpose. on christmas day in the morninge he was attended on to prayers by the whole companye of the bacchelours, and some others of his gentlemen ushers, bare before him. at dinner beinge sett downe in the hall at the high table in the vice-president's place (for the president himself was then allso present) he was served with dishes to a messe, all which were brought in by gentlemen of the howse attired in his guard's coats, ushered in by the lord comptroller, and other officers of the hall. the first messe was a boar's head, which was carried by the tallest and lustiest of all the guard, before whom (as attendants) wente first, one attired in a horseman's coate, with a boars-speare in his hande, next to him an other huntsman in greene, with a bloody faucion drawne; next to him pages in tafatye sarcenet, each of them with a messe of mustard; next to whome came hee that carried the boares-head crost with a greene silk scarfe, by which hunge the empty scabbard of the faulcion which was carried before him. as they entered the hall, he sang this christmas caroll, the three last verses of everie staffe beinge repeated after him by the whole companye: . the boare is dead, loe, here is his head, what man could have done more than his head off to strike, meleager like, and bringe it as i doe before? . he livinge spoyled where good men toyled, which made kinde ceres sorrye; but now dead and drawne, is very good brawne, and wee have brought it for you. . then sett downe the swineyard, the foe to the vineyard, lett bacchus crowne his fall, lett this boare's-head and mustard stand for pigg, goose, and custard, and so you are wellcome all. "at this time, as on all other holy-dayes, the princes allowed musitions (which were sent for from readinge, because our owne town musick had given us the slipp, as they use to doe at that time when we had most need of them) played all dinner time, and allso at supper. the prince as ofte as hee satt in the hall was attended on by a commoner and scholler of the colledge in tafaty sarcenett. after supper there was a private showe performed in the manner of an interlude, contayninge the order of the saturnalls, and shewinge the first cause of christmas-candles, and in the ende there was an application made to the day and nativitie of christ, all which was performed in manner followinge: saturnalia. hercules curius doulus * * * * * "this shew was very well liked of our selves, and the better: first, because itt was the voluntary service of a younge youth; nexte, because there were no strangers to trouble us. "st. steevens day was past over in silence, and so had st. john's day also; butt that some of the prince's honest neighbours of st. giles's presented him with a maske, or morris, which though it were but rudely performed, yet itt being so freely and lovingly profered, it could not but bee as lovingly received. "the same nighte, the twelve daies were suddenly, and as it were extempore, brought in, to offer their service to the prince, the holy-daies speaking latine, and the working-daies english, the transition was this: yee see these working-daies they weare no satten, and i assure you they can speake no latten; but if you please to stay a-while, some shepheard for them will change the style. "after some few daunces the prince, not much liking the sporte (for that most of them were out both in their speeches and measures, having but thought of this devise some few houres before) rose, and lefte the hall, after whose departure, an honest fellow to breake of the sportes for that night, and to void the company made suddenly this epilogue: these daunces were perform'd of yore by many worthy elfes, now if you will have any more pray shake your heeles your selves. "the next day being innocents-day, it was expected, and partly determined by our selves, that the tragedy of _philomela_ should have been publickly acted, which (as wee thought) would well have fitted the day, by reason of the murder of innocent itis. but the carpenters being no way ready with the stage, or scaffolds (whereof notwithstanding some were made before christmas), wee were constrained to deferre it till the nexte day, which was the th of december. philomela. tereus, rex thraciæ. progne, regina, uxor terei, eugenes, a consilijs terei. phaulus, seruus terei, tres socii terei a classe, ancilla prognes. philomela, soror prognes itis, filius pronges et terei ancilla philomelæ. faustulus, pastor regius. faustula, pastoris filia. chorus. terra mare. * * * * * "the whole play was wel acted and wel liked. "new-yeare's eve was wholly spent in preparation for the prince's triumphs, so that nothing was done or expected that night. "next day in the morning (beeing new-yeare's-day) the prince sent mr. richard swinnerton, one of the squires of his body to mr. president with a paire of gloves, charging him to say nothing but these two verses: the prince and his councell, in signe of their loves, present you, their president, with these paire of gloves. "there was some what else written in the paper which covered them, but what it is uncertaine. "at night were celebrated the prince's triumphs, at which time onely and never before nor after he was carryed in full state from his pallace to the hall, where in the sight of the whole university a supplication was presented unto him by time and seconded with a shew called _times complaint_. it was performed in manner and forme following: time's complaint. time. veritas, the daughter of time. opinion } seducers of veritas. error } studioso, a scholler. manco, a lame souldiour. clinias, a poore country-man. humphry swallow, a drunken cob goodwife spiggot, an ale-wife. philonices, a rangling lawyer. seruus philonices. bellicoso, a casheere corporall. prologue.[ ] "worthelie heere wee bring you time's complaint whom we have most just cause for to complaine of, for hee hath lent us such a little space that what wee doe wants much of its true grace. yet let your wonted love that kindelie take, which we could wish were better for your sake. _enter_ time _with the musicians to place them._ time. o wellsaid, wellsaid; wellcome, wellcome, faith! it doth mee good to see i have some friends. come, true observers of due time, come on: a fitt of musicke, but keepe time, keepe time in your remembrance still, or else you jarre: these for my sake too much neglected are. the world termes them beggars, fidling roagues, but come my fidling friends, i like you well, and for my sake i hope this company, naie more the prince himselfe, will like your tunes. here take your place and shew your greatest skill, all now is well that is not verie ill. time _expecting the comming of the prince (to whom hee preferreth a petition) placeth himselfe on the stage till the traine bee past._ this waie hee comes, here will i place my selfe, they saie hee is an honourable prince, respectfull, curteous, liberall, and learn'd: if hee bee soe hee will not choose but heare mee. poore aged time was never so abused, and in these daies princes themselves are wrong'd. if not for my sake, yet for his owne good, hee will read over my petition. oft hath the like beene drawne and given up to his nobilitie; but carelesse they in theire deepe pockets swallow good men's praiers. this his owne hand shall have, or i will keepe it:-- but here they come, stand close and viewe the traine. enter first six knighte marshalls men in suitable liveries with links and truncheons two by two. next the knighte marshall alone in armour and bases with a truncheon. then fower other of his men as before. after these fower knightes in rich apparell with hats and feathers, rapiers and daggers, bootes and spurres, everie one his lackie attending on him with torch-light, all two by two. after these the master of the requests, the master of the robes in vaste velvet gownes, with lackies and torches before them. after these fower barons in velvet cloakes, likewise attended with lackies and torches. after these an herald at armes bare, with two lackies attendant bearing torches. after these six of the privie counsell in schollars gownes and civill hoods, everie one attended on by a footman bearing on his jacket both behind and before his lord's armes according to his office (as it is before mentioned) with torches alsoe in theire hands. after those two sergeants at armes, with great maces, and two squiers before them with torches, all bare. after these two hench-men, the one with a sword, the other with a scepter, likewise attended by two squiers with torch lights, all bare. after these the prince himselfe in a scholler's gowne and civill hood, with a coronett of laurell about his hat, attended on by fower footmen in suitable liveries with torches. after these the captaine of the guard alone in hose and dublett, hatt and feather, etc., and following him, twenty of the guard in suitable guards' coats and halberds in their hands, and lightes intermingled here and there. "when this traine first entered out of the prince's palace there was a volye of shotte to the number of fiftie or three-score gunnes, and once againe as it passed through the quadrangle, and the third time when the prince was readie to enter uppon the stage in the hall, after which third peale ended, the nobilitie having past along some parte of the stage, the rest of the traine disposed in places provided for them, and the prince himselfe newlie entered, the showe went forward. * * * * * "it hath beene observed if they which performe much in these kinde of sportes must needs doe something amisse, or at the least such is the danger and trouble of them, that something in the doing will miscarry, and so be taken amisse, and such was our fortune at this time; for the prologue (to the great prejudice of that which followed) was most shamefully out, and having but halfe a verse to say, so that by the very sense the audience was able to prompt him in that which followed, yet hee could not goe forward, but after long stay and silence, was compelled abruptly to leave the stage, whereupon beeing to play another part, hee was so dasht, that hee did nothing well that night. "after him good-wife spiggot, comming forth before her time, was most miserably at a non plus & made others so also, whilst her selfe staulked in the middest like a great harry-lion (as it pleased the audience to terme it), either saying nothing at all, or nothing to the purpose. "the drunken-man, which in the repetitions had much pleased and done very well, was now so ambitious of his action, that he would needs make his part much longer than it was, and stood so long upon it all, that he grew most tedious, whereuppon it was well observed and said by one that ----'twas pitty there should bee in any pleasing thing satiety. "to make up the messe of absurdities the company had so fil'd the stage, that there was no roome to doe any thing well, to bee sure many thinges were mistaken and therefore could not but bee very distastfull, for it was thought that particular men were aymed at, and disciphered by the drunken-man, and justice bryar, though it was fully knowne to our-selves that the author had no such purpose. "in fine, expectation the devourer of all good endeavours had swallowed more in the very name and title of the interlude than was either provided or intended in the whole matter, for wee onely proposed to our selves a shew, but the towne expected a perfect and absolute play, so that all things mett to make us unhappy that night, and had not time him selfe (whose lines and actions were thought good) somewhat pleased them, they would never have endured us without hissing, howsoever in the end they gave us two or three cold plaudites, though they departed no way satisfyed, unlesse it were in the shew about the quadrangle, wherein the prince was carryd to his chamber in the same state that hee came from thence in the beginning (as is above mentioned), the whole company of actors beeing added to his traine who immediately followed him before the guard in this order: first, time alone, attended, with two pages and lightes. next, veritas alone, likewise attended. then error and opinion, which all the way they went pull'd veritas by the sleeve, one by one and the other by the other, but shee would not harken to them. after these came studioso and philonices, both pleading the case, one upon his ringers and the other with both his hands. then came manco, the lame souldiour and philonices his man; the souldiour haulting without his cruch, the other beating him with the cruch for counterfeyting. after these came clinias and bellicoso houlding the halter betwixt them, which bellicoso had found in clinias his pocket. last after these came humphry swallow and good wife spiggot, hee reeling uppon her, she pulling and hayling him for the money he ought her. after these came the guard as before, and so the prince in full state was conveyed to his pallace. "here wee were all so discouraged that wee could have found in our heartes to have gone no farther. but then consulting with our selves wee thought it no way fitt to leave when thinges were at the worst, and therefore resolved by more industry and better care of those things which should follow, to sue out a fine of recovery for our credites. whereuppon the comedy which was already a foote and appointed to bee done on day, was revewed and corrected by the best judgments in the house, & a chorus by their direction inserted, to excuse former faults, all which was a cause that twelfe eve & twelfe day past away in silence, because the comedy beeing wholy altered could not bee so soone acted, neyther could any other thing bee so suddenly provided to furnish those nights. "heere the lord-treasurer made a complaint to the king and the rest of his councell that his treasure was poore and almost exhausted, so that without a fresh supply or new subsidy nothing more could bee done. and that this might not seem an idle complaint, a bill of some of the particulars and chiefe expences was exhibited, wherein it might appeare how costly the presedent revels had beene." the "bill of expences" amounted to lxiiij^{li} v^{s} o^{d}. "this bill beeing seene and allowed, they begane to cast about for more money, whereuppon a new privy seale was drawn in latin." "those which were served with this writte and obey'd" contributed a total sum of ^{li}. "this beeing not as yet sufficient there was a new subsedy levyed by the junior masters and the rest of the colledge to the summe of six poundes three shillings, whereuppon finding themselves againe before hand, and resolving to save nothing for a deare yeare, they proceeded to new expences and new troubles. "the suneday after, beeing the last day of the vacation and tenth day of the moneth, two shewes were privately performed in the lodging, the one presently after dinner called _somnium fundatoris_, viz., the tradition that wee have concearning the three trees that wee have in the president his garden. this interlude by the reason of the death of him that made it, not long after was lost, and so could not bee heere inserted; but it was very well liked, and so wel deserved, for that it was both wel penned and well acted. "now because before were divers youths whose voyces or personages would not suffer them to act any thing in publicke, yet withall it was thought fitt, that in so publicke a buisnes every one should doe some thing, therefore a mocke play was provided called _the dayes of the weeke_, which was to be performed by them which could do nothing in earnest, and, that they should bee sure to spoyle nothing, every man's part was sorted to his person, and it was resolved that the worse it was done, the better it would be liked, and so it fell out; for the same day after supper it was presented by one who bore the name of the clerke of st. gyleses, and acted privately in the lodging in manner and forme following: the seven dayes of the weeke. _interloqutores._ the clerke of st. gyleses. mooneday. tuseday. wenesday. thurseday. frieday. satterday. suneday. night. chorus. a woman a paire of snuffers. _enter the clerke with all his acteurs._ prologue clerke. "i am the poore, though not unlettered, clerke, and these your subjects of st. gyles his parishe, who in this officious season would not sharke but thought to greet your highnesse with a morrice, which since my riper judgement thought not fitt, they have layd down their wisedomes to my witt. and that you might perceive (though seeminge rude) wee savour somewhat of the academie, wee had adventur'd on an enterlude but then of actors wee did lacke a manye; therefore we clipt our play into a showe, yet bigg enough to speake more than wee knowe. the subject of it was not farr to seeke fine witts worke mickle matter out of nifle: nam'd it i have _the seven dayes of the weeke_, which though perchaunce grave heads may judge a trifle, yet if their action answere but my penninge, you shall heare that, that will deserve a hemminge. to tell the argument, were to forstalle and sour the licquour of our sweete conceate; here are good fellowes that will tell you all when wee begin once, you shall quickely ha'te, which if your grace will grace with your attention, you shall soone sounde the depth of our invention." [then follows the mock play in seven acts.] "nothing, throughout the whole yeare, was better liked and more pleasant than this shewe, in so much that, although it were more privately done before our selves onely or some few friends, yet the report of it went about all the towne, till it came to the vice-chauncellours and l. clifford's eares, who were very desyrous to see it acted againe, and so it was as heereafter shal bee specifyed. "the next day beeing munday the of january the terme should have begun in the house, but because of the extreame cold and froast which had now continued full six weekes and better without any intermission, as also by reason the hall was still pestered with the stage and scaffolds which were suffered to stand still in expectation of the comedy, therefore it was agreed by the president and the officers that the terme should bee prorogued for dayes longer in which time it was agreed the comedy should bee publickely acted on friday, the th day of january. "but heere the president and some of the seniors in abundance of care were affrayd to put any thing againe to the publicke view of the university, because their last paines at _the complaint of time_ had so ill thriving. besides the season was so severe and tempestuous with wind and snow, which had continued some dayes without ceasing, and the complaint of the poore was so grievious for want of wood and meate, which by this time were growne very scant and deere, that they urged it was a time rather to lament and weepe than make sports in, whereupon a streight inhibition was sent out from the officers, that no man should thinke of playing that night or any time after, till the weather should breake up and bee more temperate, for they thought it no way fitt publickly to revell at a time of such generall wo and calamity. "but yet because all thinges were in a readinesse and the expectation of the whole towne was set uppon that night, the younger men of the colledge went forward with their buisnes, intending to take no notice of what the officers had aggreed uppon, wherefore some of the officers were fayne to come in person to forbid the worke-men, and to undo some things which were already done, to the great griefe and discouragement of all the youth, who, though the weather was extreame cold, were themselves most hotte uppon the matter in hand, resolving now or never to recover their losse credit. "and, as though the heavens had favoured their designes, so it happened that about noone the weather brake up and it begann to thaw, whereuppon the president was agayne importun'd by the prince himselfe and his councell for the performance of the comedy that night; who (seeing they were all so earnest) did not so much graunt, as not deny them, their request, whereuppon they begann againe to sett forward the buisnes, and what they wanted in time they made up by their willingnesse and paynes, so that for all these crosses they begann the play before a clocke and performed it in manner following: philomathes. interloqutores. chorus. janus. tempus. motus locus. quies vacuum. philomathes. sophia. chrysophilos, senex avarus. antarchia. phantasta, stolidus generosus. anthadia. [greek: aphronios], filius chrysophili. anæa, mulier inepta. chrestophilos, socius philomathis. crito, senex, pater sophiæ. critonis seruus. cerdoos, seruus chrysophili. petinus, seruus phantastæ. * * * * * "this play was very well acted, but especially the chorus, the stage was never more free, the audience never more quiett and contented, so that they went away many of them crieing--_abundè satisfactum est!_ itt was so well liked and applauded of all that saw itt. "here the stage & scaffold were pul'd downe which had stood from cristmas, and it was resolved that upon the chaunge of the weather, the terme should begin on the munday following. "but in the meane time on sunday nighte, being the seventeenth of january, the vice-chancelor, and the l. clifford, with many other doctors and gentlemen were invited to supper in the president's lodging, where after supper they were entertained with a shew before mentioned, to witt, _the seven dayes in the weeke_, to which, by this time, there was somewhat added, but not much: all was most kindly accepted, and the nighte was spent in great mirth. for the straungenes of the matter, and rarity of the fashion of their action pleased above expectation. "at the end of this shew for the more rarity, there was one brought in my lord's stockes with this speech made uppon itt: "'my lord, i which am the lowest, am now become the lowdest, though (i hope) not the lewdest of your lordshippe's servauntes. and though i come _pridie calendas_, before i am cald, yet (i hope) my audacity shall have audience, and my faithfulnes favor. i am your lordshippe's elephaunt and heere is your castell, so that where other lords are brought to their castells, heere your castell is brought to you. _est locus in carcere_, there is a locke upon your lordshippe's castell, which was committed unto my trust, how faithfull i have been therein they can tell who have taken an exact measure of my office by the foote: the matter of which your castell is builded is so precious, that there is none amongst company but is contented to wear of it within his buttons, the end for which it was builded is very commendable, that they may bee kepte in order with wood, which otherwise would not bee kepte in order, heere is _fons latus pedibus tribus_, a fountaine to wash three mens legs, that they which have bene _aurium tenus_, over shoes, heere may be _crurum tenus_ over bootes too, this your lordshippe's oracle or tripos, out of which malefactors tell the truth and foretell of their amendment. nay, i wil bee bould to compare it to your lordshippe's braine, for what is there designed is heere executed. in these sells or ventricles are fancy, understanding, and memory. for such as your lordshippe doth not fancy are put in the first hole, such as were dull and without understanding were put in the second hole, but such as your lordshippe threatned (remember this) or i'le remember you, were put in the last and lowest dungeon, _cum nemini obtrudi potest itur ad me_. when they cannot bee ruled otherwise they are brought unto mee, and my entertainment is _strato discumbitur ostro_, they straite sett downe att this oister table, where they are fast and doe fast, ffor _vinitur exiguo melius_, they make small meales, till the flames of clemency doe mitigate the salamanders of your lordshippe's severity. now, my lord, since i have told you what i am, i will bee bold to tell you what you may bee--you are mortall--ergo you must die, the three sisters will not spare you, though you were their owne brother, and therefore while you have your good witts about you, _fac quid vobis_, make your will, that wee may know amongst so many well deserving men, that doe lay claime to this your castell, to whome as rightfull heire itt shall lawfully descend, that so all controversies being ended, before your lordshippe's deceasse, hereafter your bones may ly, and wee your subjects live, in all rest and quietnes. "'dixi.' "to make an end of this nighte's sporte, all departed merry and very well pleased, the actors were much commended, and the terme for their sakes prorogued one day longer. "on the thursday following the prince was solemnly invited by the canons of christchurch to a comedy called _yuletide_, where many thinges were either ill ment by them, or ill taken by us, but wee had very good reason to think the former, both for that the whole towne thought so, and the whole play was a medley of christmas sportes, by which occasion christmas lords were much jested at, and our prince was soe placed that many thinges were acted upon him, but yet, mr. deane himselfe, then vice-chancelor, very kindly sent for the prince and some others of our howse, and laboured to satisfie us, protesting that no such thing was mente, as was reported, whereupon wee went away contented, and forebore the speaking of many things which otherwise were afterwards intended, for aunswering of them in their owne kind. "on candlemas nighte it was thoughte by our selves, and reported in the towne, that the prince should resigne his place, but nothing being in readines for that purpose itt was deferred, but yet, least nothing should bee done, there was a vigilate (as they terme it) a watching nighte procured by the prince and his counsell, and graunted by the officers of the colledge, which was performed in manner following. "the vigilate. "first, about eighte of the clocke (for then itt was to begin, and to continue till fowre in the morning) the colledge gates were shutt, and all the students summon'd by the sounding of a trumpett three times, to make their personall appearance in the greate hall, where after they were all come together, that the prince's pleasure might bee the better knowne, this proclamation was publikely pronounced by a serjeant att armes, in the hearing of them all. "the high and mighty thomas by the favour of fortune prince of alba fortunata, lord st. johns, high regent of the hall, &c. to all presidents, vice presidents, officers, readers, masters, batchelors, felowes, schollers, commoners, under-commoners, servaunts, scruitors, sendeth greeting. whereas of late by the turbulent spirits of seditious minded persons hath bene buzzed into the eares of many of our loving and liege subjectes a fearefull and dangerous report of our sudden downefall, which according to their libelling speeches should att this nighte fall upon us--we have thought it necessary not so much for our owne feares which are none at all, as for satisfieing and strengthening our welmeaning friends in their love and duty, to publish and by these presents to all our loyal subjects of what state and condicion soever, that they make their personall appearance to the setting and furnishing of a most strong guarde and carefull watch as well for their security as the safety of our owne royall person, & the whole common-wealth; in the which generall watch for the better comfort and ease of all men, our selfe, with our honourable privy counsell, and the rest of our nobility, intend to bee personally present. "but because wee are no way minded to oppresse any man above his power, on our princely bounty, wee give licence to such as (for age or infirmity) are not able to perform that duty, to forfaite for their absence, yf they plead age ijs. vi^{d}.; if infirmity, xii^{d}., towards the furnishing of his highnes with a tall and sufficient watchman. "now because that which wee have wisely thought, and for our peace and safety, may not proove the cause of new troubles and dissentions, wee have thought good to adjoine some few cautions, in way of admonitions to bee observed. "first, for that the disorders of an unruly and mutinous watch doe often open as it were the gate of danger and outrage, our princely will and pleasure is, that each man keepe his station with out murmuring, performing cheerefully all such offices and duties, as shal bee lawfully enjoin'd by us, or our offices, upon paine of forfeiting ijs. vi^{d}., as for age. "secondly, because sloth is a kind of disease in a well-ordered common-wealth wee further charge and command by the vertue of our absolute authority, that no man bee found winking, or pincking, or nodding, much lesse snorting, upon paine of forfaiting twelve pence, as for infirmity. "thirdly, for the avoiding of a sudden dearth, or lingring famine which may ensue and justly follow the free and undoubted liberty of a riotous and luxurious time, yt is by us thought necessary that no man should in hugger mugger eate or drincke more than is publickly seene and allowed by the face of the body civill and politicke, upon paine of paieing twise, for such is in a manner stolen provision, and the second paiement to bee arbitrary. "given att our mannor of whites-hall, the seacond of february, and in the first of our raigne. "this proclamation being read and set up in the great hall, the prince called for his officers and servants about him, charging every man carefully to execute his office. first the steward and buttler (who for their auncient fidelity kept their places according as they had long before beene appointed by the colledge) were commaunded to bring their bookes, and by them to call up all the howse, whereupon (every one beeing first charged to aunswere to his name) it presently appeared who were present and who were absent. "after this the master of the revels and the knight marshall were willed to appoint severall sportes that no man might bee seene idle upon payne of the prince's high displeasure whereupon presently some went to cardes, some to dice, some to dauncing, every one to some thing. "not long after, for more variety sake, there was brought in a maske; the devise was sudden and extempore, videl: a little page attired in his long coats, with these six verses which were spoke as soone as he entered the hall. "these are six carpet knights, and i one page can easily bring in six that bee of age, they come to visite this your highnes court, and if they can, to make your honour sport. nay, this is all, for i have seene the day a richer maske had not so much to say. "after these maskers had finished the measures, and some few other daunces, the said page waved them forth with his wan, and spake these two verses: "there are three they say would shew you an anticke, but when you see them, you'll thinke them franticke. "then there came in three in an anticke which were well attyred for that purpose, and daunced well to the great delite of the beholders. "after these had stollen away one by one, as the manner is, it pleased the prince to aske what was a clocke, it beeing aunswered almost twelve hee presently called in for supper. but first the bill of those which were before noted to bee absent was called, to see whether any of them would yet appeare, and the prince would deale favourably with them. it was also examined whether any of those which were present before were now gon to bed, and accordingly authority was given by the prince to the marshalls of the hall and other officers to search the chambers for sleepers, and where they made aunswere to aske the reason of their slothfull neglect or wilfull contempt of the prince's commands, and if they pleaded either infirmity or age to take their fine, and so quietly to depart, first causing them faithfull to give their words that they harboured no other idle or suspicious parsons. but if they knoct at any of the chambers of those that were absent and nobody would answer, then they had full authority to breake open the dores and to make a privy search, and if they found any abed they tooke them as they were in their shirts and carryed them downe in state to the hall after this manner:-- "first went the marshals with lights to make room. then came one squire carrying the goune of him whom they brought and another that carryed his hatt & band. then came two other squires whereof one carryed his dublet the other his breeches. then came two with lights. next came he that was in his shirt carryed by two in a chaire and covered with a blanket. last behind came one squire more that carryed his shoes & stockings. "all these beeing entered the hall, the squires made their attendance about him, with great observance, every one reaching him his apparrell as it pleased him to call for it, and then also helping him on with it. and this was the punishment of those that were found a bed. "others which were found up in their chambers & would not answer were violently brought downe with bills and staves as malefactors and by the knight marshals appointment were committed close prisoners to the prince's castle, videl. the stocks, which were placed upon a table to that purpose, that those which were punished might bee seene to the terrour of others. "by this time supper was ready and the sewer called to the dresser whereupon the buttery bell was presently rung, as it uses to bee at other ordinary meales, besides a trumpet was sounded at the kitchen hatch to call the wayters together. "after the first messe was served in, the prince with the rest of his councell satt downe, then all the rest of the howse in seniority. "towardes the end of supper two gentlemen of the second table fell out, wee could never distinctly know about what, it was verely supposed themselves scarsly knew, but from wordes they fell suddenly to blowes, and ere any man was aware, one of them had stabbed the other into the arme with his knife to the great prejudice of the mirth, which should or would have followed that night. but the offender was presently apprehended (and though a gentleman of some worth) put into my lord's stocks, where hee lay most part of that night with shame and blame enough. and yet for all that punishment the next day he was convented before the officers of the colledge, and there agayne more grievously punished; for the fault was much agravated by the circumstances of the time, place and person that was hurt, who was a very worshipfull knight's sonne and heyre. "after this the prince with some of the better sort of the howse beeing much disconted with the mischaunce that had happened, retyred themselves into the president lodging, where privatly they made themselves merry, with a wassall called the five bells of magdalen church, because it was an auncient note of those bells, that they were almost never silent. this shew for the better grace of the night was performed by some of the masters and officers themselves in manner following: "_enter the clerke of magdalens alone,_ "your kind acceptance of the late devise presented by st. gyles's clerke, my neighbour, hath hartned mee to furnish in a trice this nights up sitting with a two houres labour: for any thing i hope, though ne're so naghty wil be accepted in a vigilate. i have observed as your sportes did passe all (a fault of mine to bee too curious) the twelfe night slipt away without a wassall, a great defect, to custome most injurious: which i to mend have done my best endeavour to bring it in, for better late than never. and more, for our more tuneable proceeding, i have ta'ne downe the five bells in our towre, which will performe it, if you give them heeding, most musically, though they ring an houre.-- now i go in to oyle my bells and pruin them, when i come downe ile bring them downe & tune them. _exit._ "after a while he returned with five others presenting his five bells, and tyed with five bell-ropes, which after he had pulled one by one, they all began a peale, and sang in latin as followeth:-- "jam sumus lætis dapibus repleti, copiam vobis ferimus fluentem, gaudium vobis canimus jocose vivite læti. te deum dicunt (venerande bacche) te deum dicunt (reverenda mater) vos graves vobis removete luctus: vivite læti. dat ceres vires, hominumque firmat corpora, et bacchus pater ille vini liberat curis animos molestis: vivite læti. ne dolor vestros animos fatiget, vos jubet læta hæc removere curas turba, lætari feriæque suadent vivite læti. en ceres lætæ segetis creatrix, et pater vini placidique somni pocula hæc vobis hilares ministrant (monarcha sume ( (magister. _bibunt omnes ordine dum, actores hæc ultima carmina sæpius repetunt; max singuli toti conventui sic ordine gratulantur._ _tenor._ reddere fælicem si quemquam copia possit copia fælicis nomen habere jubet, copia læte jubet tristes depellere curas, copia quam cingit bacchus et alma ceres. _counter._ quem non delectant moderatè pocula sumpta? _tenor._ cujus non animum dulcia vina juvant? dulcia vina juvant dulcem dant vina soporem, magnificas ornant dulcia vina dapes. _meane._ frugibus alma ceres mortalia pectora nutrit, exornant campurn frugibus alma ceres. si cuiquam desint cerelia dona, nec illi lenæi patris munera grata placent. nec vobis cereris nec bacchi munera desint, annuat et votis jupiter ipse meis. _treble._ alma ceres vestris epulis lætatur, et ecce copia cum baccho gaudia læta canunt _mox omnes cantantes exeunt._ gaudium lætum canimus, canemus hoc idem semper, nec enim dolere jam licet, lætae feriæ hic aguntur vivite læti. sæpius nobis reriæ revertant, sæpius vinum liceat potare, sæpius vobis hilares cánamus vivite læti. "this then was suddenly and extempore clapt together for want of a better, but notwithstanding was as willingly and chearefully receaved as it was proferd. "by this time it was foure a clocke and liberty was given to every one to goe to bed or stay up as long as they pleased. the prince with his councell brake up their watch, so did most of the masters of the house, but the younger sort stayed up till prayers time, and durst not goe to bed for feare of one another. for some, after they had licence to depart, were fetcht out of their beds by their fellowes, and not suffered to put on their clothes till they came into the hall. and thus the day came and made an end of the night's sport. "on the sixt of february, beeing egge satterday, it pleased some gentlemen schollers in the towne to make a dauncing night of it. they had provided many new and curious daunces for the maske of penelope's woers, but the yeare beeing far spent and lent drawing on and many other thinges to bee performed, the prince was not able to bestow that state upon them which their love & skill deserved. but their good will was very kindely received by the prince in this night's private travels. they had some apparell suddenly provided for them, and these few latin verses for their induction: "isti fuere credo penelopes proci quos justa forsan ira telemachi domo expulit ulyssis. "after all this sport was ended the prince entertayned them very royally with good store of wine and a banquet, where they were very merry and well pleased all that night. "against the next tuesday following, beeing shrovetuesday, the great stage was againe set up and the scaffolds built about the hall for the prince's resignation, which was performed that night with great state and solemnity in manner and forme following: ira seu tumulus fortune. interlocutores. princeps. admiralius. thesaurarius. comptrollarius. cancellarius. justitiarius. marescallus. camerarius. philosophus. cynicus. momus. polycrates. philadelphus. juridicus. magister ludorem. anteambulo primus. anteambulo secundus. stultus. chorus. minerva euphemia fortuna. tolmæa. * * * * * "many straungers of all sorts were invited to this shew, and many more came together, for the name's sake only of a resignacon, to see the manner and solemnity of it, for that it was reported (and truly) that there was nothing els to bee done or seene beside the resignacon and no man thought so much could have beene said of so little matter. "the stage was never so oppressed with company, insomuch that it was verely thought it could not bee performed that night for want of roome; but the audience was so favourable as to stand as close and yeeld as much backe as was possible; so that for all tumults it began about a clocke, and was very well liked of all. "only some few, more upon their owne guilty suspicion than our plaine intention, thinking themselves toucht at that verse of _momus_: "dixi et quem dederat cursum fortuna peregi, laboured to raise an hissing, but it was soon smothered, and the whole company in the end gave us good applause and departed very well pleased. "after the shew was ended, the sometimes lord was carried in state to his owne private chamber after this manner: first went two squires with lights. next euphemia and tolmæa. then other squires with lightes. next minerva and fortuna. then came other squires with lightes, and in the midst of them schollers bearing on their shoulders a tombe or sepulcher adorned with scutchions and little flagges, wherein all the prince's honours had bene buried before. after this came the prince alone in his schollers gowne and hood as the chiefe mourner. then all the rest of his counsell and company likewise in blacke gownes and hoodes, like mourners, two by two. "all these were said to goe to the temple of minerva there to consecrate and erecte the sepulcher, and this state was very well liked of all that saw itt. "heere wee thought to have made an end of all, and to have puld downe the scaffolds and stage, but then many said that so much preparacon was too much for so small a show. besides there was an english tragedy almost ready, which they were very earnest should bee performed, but many arguments were alledged against it: first, for the time, because it was neere lent, and consequently a season unfitt for plaies--secondly, the stile for that itt was english, a language unfitt for the universitie, especially to end so much late sporte with all--thirdly, the suspicon of some did more hinder it than all the rest, for that it was thought that some particulars were aimed att in the chorus, which must needs bee distastfull--lastly, the ill lucke, which wee had before with english, made many very loth to have any thing done againe in that straine. "but these objections being aunswered all well as might bee, and faithfull promise being made and taken that if any word were thought personall, it should be presently put out, the stage was suffered to stand, and the scaffolds somewhat enlarged against the saturday following. att which time such a concourse of people from all places, and of all sorts came together presently after dinner, that itt was thought impossible any thing should have beene done that night for tumults. yet in the beginning such order and care was taken (every one being willing att the last cast to helpe towardes the making a good end,) that the stage was kept voide of all company, and the scaffoldes were reserved for straungers and men sorte, better than ever they were before, so that it began very peaceably somewhat before six a clocke, and was performed in manner following: periander. chorus the master of the revels. detraction. the master of the revels boy. resolution. ingenuity a doctor of physicke. interlocutores. periander, tyrannus corinthi. cypsilus, hæres periandri, stultus. lycophron frater cypsili. neotinos, puer, satelles lycoph. lysimachos} aristhæus } nobiles et a consilijs periandri. philarches} eriterus } juuenes nobiles in aulâ periandri. symphilus } cratæa mater periandri. melissa uxor periandri. melissæ umbra. eugenia filia periandri. pronæa } zona } duæ meritriculæ periandri. larissæa soror philarchis. europe aristhæi filia. fæminæ quatuor corinthiæ cum or pueris inseruientibus. arion celebris musicus. nantæ quatuor. cines duo togati. vigiles duo. calistus } stratocles } satellites periandri. borius } tres aut or alij satellites. epilogus. * * * * * "epilogue. "gentlemen, welcome! our great promises wee would make upp, your selves must needs confesse, but our small timbred actors, narrow roome, necessity of thrifte make all short come of our first apprehensions; wee must keepe our auntient customes though wee after creepe. but wee forgett times limitts, nowe tis lente-- old store this weeke may lawfully be spente our former shewes were giv'n to our cal'd lorde, this, and att his request, for you was storde. by many hands was periander slaine, your gentler hands will give him live againe. finis. "a certain gentlewoman, upon the hearing of these two last verses, made two other verses, and in way of an aunswer sent them to the prince, who having first plaied periander afterwards himselfe also pronounced the epilogue. "the verses were these if that my hand or hart him life could give, by hand and hart should periander live. "but it is almost incredible to thinke how well this tragedy was performed of all parties, and how well liked of the whole, which (as many of them as were within the hall) were very quiet and attentive. but those that were without and could not get in made such an hideous noice, and raised such a tumult with breaking of windows all about the colledge, throwinge of stones into the hall and such like ryott, that the officers of the coll: (beeing first dar'd to appeare) were faine to rush forth in the beginning of the play, with about a dozen whiflers well armed and swords drawne, whereat the whole company (which were gathered together before the chapell doore to try whether they could breake it open) seeing them come behind them out of the lodging, presently gave backe, and ranne away though itt was thought they were not so few as or . "the officers gave some faire words and some fowle as they saw occasion, the whiflers were very heedfull to marke who were the ringleaders of the rest, and having some notice given of them by some of our friendes, they took some of them and committed them to the porter's lodge, where they lay close prisoners till the play was done, and then they were brought forth and punished, and so sente home. "after this all was quiet only some were so thrust in the hall, that they were carried forth for dead but soone recovered, when they came into the aire. "the chorus of this tragedy much pleased for the rarity of it. _detraction_ beeing taken from among the company, where hee had liked to have been beaten for his sawsines (as it was supposed) for nobody at first toke him for an actor. the chiefest in the hall commaunded that notice should be taken of him, that hee might afterwards bee punished for his boldnes;--but as soone as it at once appeared that he was an actor, their disdaine and anger turned to much pleasure and content. "all were so pleased att the whole course of this play, that there were at least eight generall plaudites given in the midst of it in divers places and to divers persons. "in the end, they clapped their hands so long, that they went forth of the colledge clapping. "but in the midst of all this good liking wee were neere two mischaunces, the one from lycophron who lost a faire gold ring from his finger, which notwithstanding all the hurleburly in the end of the play, was soone found againe; the other from periander, who, going to kill his daughter eugenia, did not so couch his dagger within his hand, but that hee prickt her through all her attire, but (as god would have it) it was onely a scratch and so it passed. the conclusion. "many other thinges were in this yeare intended which neither were nor could be performed. as the maske of penelope's wooer, with the state of telemachus, with a controversie of jrus and his ragged company, whereof a great parte was made. the devise of the embassage from lubber-land, whereof also a parte was made. the creation of white knights of the order of aristotle's well, which should bee sworne to defend aristotle against all authors, water against wine, footemen against horsemen, and many more such like injunctions. a lottery for those of the colledge or straungers as itt pleased them to draw, not for matters of wealth, but only of mirth and witt. the triumph of all the founders of the colledges in oxford, a devise much thought on, but it required more invention, more cost than the time would affoord. the holding of a court leet and baron for the prince, wherein there should have beene leasses drawne, copies taken, surrenders made, all which were not so much neglected as prevented by the shortnes of time and want of money, better wits and richer daies may hereafter make upp which was then lefte unperfect. "here some letters might be inserted, and other gratulatory messages from divers friends to the prince, but it is high time to make an end of this tedious and fruitelesse relation, unlesse the knowledge of trouble and vanity bee fruitefull. "wee intended in these exercises the practise and audacity of our youth, the credit and good name of our colledge, the love and favor of the university; but instead of all these (so easie a thing it is to be deceived in a good meaning) wee met with peevishnesse at home, perversnes abroad, contradictions everywhere; some never thought themselves entreated enough to their owne good and creditt; others thought themselves able to doe nothing if they could not thwarte and hinder something; most stood by and gave aime, willing to see much and doe nothing, nay perchaunce they were ready to procure most trouble, which would bee sure to yield least helpe. and yet wee may not so much grudge at faults at home as wee may justly complaine of hard measure abroad; for instead of the love and favour of the universitie, wee found our selves (wee will say justly) taxed for any the least error (though ingenious spirits would have pardoned many things, where all things were intended for their owne pleasure) but most unjustly censured, and envied for that which was done (wee dare say) indifferently well: so that, in a word, wee paide deere for trouble, and in a manner hired and sent for men to doe us wrong. "let others herafter take heed how they attempte the like, unlesse they find better meanes at home, and better mindes abroad. and yet wee cannot complaine of all, some ment well and said well, and those tooke good will for good paiment, good endevors for good performaunce, and such (in this kind) shall deserve a private favour, when other shal bee denied a common benefitt. "_seria vix recte agnoscit, qui ludicra nescit._ finis." christmas tournaments. during the reign of james the first there was a revival of chivalric exercises, especially in connection with the training of the young prince henry. almost as soon as he could wield a lance and manage his horse when clothed in complete armour, he insisted on taking his place at the lists; and from this time no great tournament took place in england in which his royal highness did not take part. the most important of these exhibitions was the grand "feat of armes" which took place on twelfth night, , at the palace of whitehall, in the presence of king james i. and his queen, and a brilliant assemblage of lords, ladies, and gentlemen, among whom were several foreign ambassadors, when the heir-apparent, prince henry, was in the th year of his age, and therefore arrived at the period for claiming the principality of wales and the duchy of cornwall. it was granted to him by the king and the high court of parliament, and the th of june following appointed for his investiture: "the christmas before which," sir charles cornwallis says, "his highnesse, not onely for his owne recreation, but also that the world might know what a brave prince they were likely to enjoy, under the name of meliades, lord of the isles, (an ancient title due to the first born of scotland,) did, in his name, by some appointed for the same purpose, strangely attired, accompanied with drummes and trumpets, in the presence, before the king and queene, and in the presence of the whole court, deliver a challenge to all knights of great britaine." the challenge was to this effect, "that meliades, their noble master, burning with an earnest desire to trie the valour of his young yeares in foraigne countryes, and to know where vertue triumphed most, had sent them abroad to espy the same, who, after their long travailes in all countreys, and returne," had nowhere discovered it, "save in the fortunate isle of great britaine: which ministring matter of exceeding joy to their young meliades, who (as they said) could lineally derive his pedegree from the famous knights of this isle, was the cause that he had now sent to present the first fruits of his chivalrie at his majesties' feete: then after returning with a short speech to her majestie, next to the earles, lords, and knights, excusing their lord in this their so sudden and short warning, and, lastly, to the ladies; they, after humble delivery of their chartle concerning time, place, conditions, number of weapons and assailants, tooke their leave, departing solemnly as they entered." then preparations began to be made for this great fight, and each was happy who found himself admitted for a defendant, much more an assailant. "at last to encounter his highness, six assailants, and fifty-eight defendants, consisting of earles, barons, knights, and esquires, were appointed and chosen; eight defendants to one assailant, every assailant being to fight by turnes eight several times fighting, two every time with push and pike of sword, twelve strokes at a time; after which, the barre for separation was to be let downe until a fresh onset." the summons ran in these words: "to our verie loving good ffreind sir gilbert loughton, knight, geave theis with speed: "after our hartie commendacions unto you. the prince, his highnes, hath commanded us to signifie to you that whereas he doth intend to make a challenge in his owne person at the barriers, with six other assistants, to bee performed some tyme this christmas; and that he hath made choice of you for one of the defendants (whereof wee have comandement to give you knowledge), that theruppon you may so repaire hither to prepare yourselfe, as you may bee fitt to attend him. hereunto expecting your speedie answer wee rest, from whitehall this th of december, . your very loving friends, nottingham. t. suffolke. e. worcester." on new year's day, , or the day after, the prince's challenge was proclaimed at court, and "his highnesse, in his own lodging, in the christmas, did feast the earles, barons, and knights, assailants and defendants, until the great twelfth appointed night, on which this great fight was to be performed." on the th of january, in the evening, "the barriers" were held at the palace of whitehall, in the presence of the king and queen, the ambassadors of spain and venice, and the peers and ladies of the land, with a multitude of others assembled in the banquetting-house: at the upper end whereof was the king's chair of state, and on the right a sumptuous pavilion for the prince and his associates, whence, "with great bravery and ingenious devices, they descended into the middell of the roome, and there the prince performed his first feates of armes, that is to say, at _barriers_, against all commers, being assisted onlie with six others, viz., the duke of lenox, the earle of arundell, the earle of southampton, the lord hay, sir thomas somerset, and sir richard preston, who was shortly afterwards created lord dingwell." to answer these challengers came fifty-six earles, barons, knights, and esquiers. they were at "the lower end of the roome, where was erected a very delicat and pleasant place, where in privat manner they and their traine remained, which was so very great that no man imagined that the place could have concealed halfe so many." thence they issued in comely order, "to the middell of the roome, where sate the king and the queene, and the court, to behold the barriers, with the several showes and devices of each combatant." every challenger fought with eight several defendants two several combats at two several weapons, viz. at push of pike, and with single sword. "the prince performed this challenge with wonderous skill and courage, to the great joy and admiration of the beholders," he "not being full sixteene yeeres of age until the th of february." these feats, and other "triumphant shewes," began before ten o'clock at night, and continued until three o'clock in the morning, "being sonday." the speeches at "the barriers" were written by ben jonson. the next day (sunday) the prince rode in great pomp to convoy the king to st. james', whither he had invited him and all the court to supper, the queen alone being absent; and then the prince bestowed prizes to the three combatants best deserving; namely, the earl of montgomery, sir thomas darey (son of lord darey), and sir robert gourdon. thus ended the twelftide court festivities in . during the early years of james's reign tournaments divided with masques the favour of the court; and, as we have just seen when prince henry reached his sixteenth year, he put himself forth in a more heroic manner than usual with princes of his time to engage in "feats of armes" and chivalric exercises; but after his death ( ) these sports fell quite out of fashion, and george wither, a poet of the period, expresses, in the person of britannia, the feelings of the nation:-- "alas! who now shall grace my tournaments, or honour me with deeds of chivalry? what shall become of all my merriments, my ceremonies, shows of heraldry, and other rites?" [illustration] religious matters received a good deal of attention from james i. in the later years of his reign, and his majesty's proposals raised the question of the observance of the christmas festival in scotland. in the king made a journey to scotland with the object of establishing the english church in all its forms and authority as the state church of scotland for ever. one of the famous five articles in which the king set forth his will proposed "that the festivals of christmas, good friday, easter, ascension day, and whit sunday, should be observed in scotland just as in england." the articles were received with unequivocal marks of displeasure, many of the churches refusing to obey the royal command, and the revival of the festival of christmas was denounced as the return of the ancient saturnalia. three years later the king obtained an act of parliament enforcing the articles on the repugnant spirit of the people. "dr. laud, whose name we now meet for the first time, afterwards to become so notorious, even urged james to go further lengths; but his fatal advice was destined to act with more force on the next generation."[ ] the king returned to london very much displeased with the religious views of his scotch subjects, and his sourness seems to have manifested itself even at christmastide, for on december th of this year mr. chamberlaine thus wrote to sir dudley carleton: "the king hath been at theobald's ever since wednesday, and came to town this day. i am sorry to hear that he grows every day more froward, and with such a kind of morosity, that doth either argue a great discontent in mind, or a distemper of humours in his body. yet he is never so out of tune but the very sight of my lord of buckingham doth settle and quiet all."[ ] so soothed and softened was the king by "my lord of buckingham" that mr. chamberlaine, writing again on the rd of january, says that on new year's day the earl was created "marquis of buckingham, a dignity the king hath not bestowed since his coming to this crown." and, says the same writer, "this night was the lord marquiss's [buckingham's] great feast, where were the king and prince, with lords and ladies _sans nombre_. you may guess at the rest of the cheer by this scantling, that there were said to be seventeen dozen of pheasants, and twelve partridges in a dish throughout; which methinks was rather spoil than largess; yet for all the plenty of presents, the supper cost £ . sir thomas edmondes undertook the providing and managing of all, so that it was much after the french. the king was exceedingly pleased, and could not be satisfied with commending the meat and the master; and yet some stick not to say, that young sir henry mildmay, a son of george brooke, that was executed at winchester, and a son of sir william monson's, begins to come into consideration." the failing health of the king interfered somewhat with the celebration of the subsequent royal christmases of this reign; and nichols, referring to the court celebrations of twelfth day, - , says: "'on twelfth day the king went to chappel, but they had much ado to support him. he offered gold, frankincence, and myrrhe, and touched of the evil.'[ ] in the evening 'the french ambassador and his choise followers were brought to court by the earle of warwick to be present at a maske; he seated as before with the king, the better sort of the other on a fourme behind the lords, the lord treasurer onely and the marquesse of hamilton sitting at the upper end of it, and all the rest in a box, and in the best places of the scaffolds on the right hand of his majesty. no other ambassadors were at that time present or invited.'" as to the christmas festivities of the next year ( - ) nichols[ ] says mr. meade wrote thus to sir martin stuteville:-- "'the lieutenant of middle temple played a game this christmas-time, whereat his majesty was highly displeased. he made choise of some thirty of the civillest and best-fashioned gentlemen of the house to sup with him; and, being at supper, took a cup of wine in one hand, and held his sword drawn in the other, and so began a health to the distressed lady elizabeth [the queen of bohemia], and having drunk, kissed his sword, and laying his hand upon it, took an oath to live and die in her service; then delivered the cup and sword to the next, and so the health and ceremonie went round. "'the gentlemen of graye's inne, to make an end of christmas on twelfe-night, in the dead time of the night, shot off all the chambers they had borrowed from the tower, being as many as filled four carts. the king, awakened with this noise, started out of his bed, and cryed, "treason, treason," &c., and that the cittie was in an uprore, in such sort (as it is told) that the whole court was raised and almost in armes, the earle of arundell running to the bed-chamber with his sword drawne as to rescue the king's person.'" in this reign many accomplished writers assisted in the christmas festivities. professor henry morley[ ] mentions that in december, , the name of philip massinger, poet and dramatist, first appeared in the office book of the master of the revells, when his "bondman" was acted, and the play was first printed in . king james i. died at theobald's, herts, on the th march, , and was buried in westminster abbey. king james i. and bishop andrewes on christmas days. the remarkable fact that bishop andrewes preached seventeen sermons on the nativity before james i. gives an unusual interest to the christmas day services of this reign. nichols makes the following references to them:-- . "on christmas day the king attended divine service at whitehall, where dr lancelot andrews, then recently promoted to the bishoprick of chichester, preached before his majesty, on the epistle of st. paul to the hebrews, ii. ." . "on christmas day, the king attended divine service at whitehall, where bishop andrews, now decidedly the king's favourite preacher, discoursed on esaias ix. ." . "on thursday, being christmas day, the king attended divine service at whitehall, and there heard bishop andrews preach on tim. iii. ." . "monday, december , being christmas day, the king attended divine service at whitehall, and there heard the bishop of ely, dr. andrews, on galat. iv. , ." in a note nichols says: "this sermon was much admired by the king. this was probably the reason that it was printed in , together with that the bishop preached on the same occasion in that year, under the following title: 'two sermons preached before the king's majestie at whitehall; of the birth of christ; the one on christmas day, anno , the other on christmas day last, anno . by the bishop of elie, his majestie's almoner. imprinted at london by robert barker, printer to the king's most excellent majestie, anno .'" . "on tuesday, the th december, christmas day, the king attended divine service at whitehall, where bishop andrews preached on luke ii. , ." . "on christmas day the king attended divine service at whitehall, and bishop andrews preached on john. i. ." . "on friday, th december, christmas day was kept as usual at whitehall; where the king attended divine service, and bishop andrews (as usual) preached." . "saturday, th december, being christmas day, was kept with the usual solemnities; the king attended divine service at whitehall, and bishop andrews preached." . "his majesty returned to keep christmas day, as was customary, at whitehall. bishop andrews addressed him from the pulpit as usual." . "'on christmas day, the king, being sorely troubled with the gout, was not able to go to divine service; but heard a sermon in private, and took the sacrament.' the preacher was, as usual, bishop andrews." . "on christmas day, thomas, earl of arundel, who was educated from his youth in the popish religion, and had lately travelled all over italy detesting the abuses of the papists, embraced the protestant religion, and received the sacrament in the king's chapel at whitehall, where bishop andrews preached, as was customary, a sermon suited to the festival of the nativity." . "on the th [december], bishop andrews resumed his post as preacher on christmas day, before the king at whitehall. his text was from luke ii. , ." . "christmas was kept by the king at whitehall, as had ever been his practice; and bishop andrews preached then before him, on saturday, the th." . "during the month of december, before the king left the country, he knighted at newmarket, sir francis michell, afterward degraded in june ; and at theobalds, sir gilbert cornwall. on the rd, his majestie 'came to westminster, but went not to chappel, being prevented by the gout.' on monday, the th, however, being christmas day, bishop andrews preached before him at whitehall, on matt. ii. , ; and during christmas, sir clement cotterell and sir henry carvell were there knighted." . "on the th [december] bishop andrews resumed his christmas station in the pulpit at whitehall, and thence preached to the king and his court on the same text as he had adopted on the same occasion two years before, matt. ii. , ." . "the king kept inviolate his old custom of being at whitehall on christmas day, and hearing there a sermon from bishop andrews, who this year preached on ephes. i. ." . "on saturday, the th of december, bishop andrews preached before his majesty at whitehall, on psalm ii. , it being at least the seventeenth, as it was the last, christmas day on which king james heard that favourite preacher." the unique series of "seventeen sermons on the nativity, preached before king james i. at whitehall, by the right honourable and reverend father in god, lancelot andrewes, sometime lord bishop of winchester," were preserved to posterity by an order of charles i., who, after bishop andrewes's death, commanded bishops laud and buckeridge to collect and publish his sermons. this series of sermons on the nativity have recently been reprinted in "the ancient and modern library of theological literature," and the editor, after referring to the ability and integrity of bishop andrewes, says: "an interest apart from that which must be created by his genius, learning, and character, belongs to him as the exponent of the mind and practice of the english church in the years that intervened between the reformation and the revolution." the popular amusements of christmastide at this period are thus enumerated by robert burton in his "anatomy of melancholy," published in :-- "the ordinary recreations which we have in winter are cards, tables and dice, shovelboard, chess-play, the philosopher's game, small trunks, billiards, music, masks, singing, dancing, ule games, catches, purposes, questions; merry tales of errant knights, kings, queens, lovers, lords, ladies, giants, dwarfs, thieves, fairies, goblins, friars, witches, and the rest." the following curious cut is from the title-page of the amusing story of the great "giant gargantua" of this period:-- [illustration: "giant gargantua"] the legends of arthur and the knights of the round table, bevis of southampton, guy of warwick, adam bell, and clymme of clough, were favourites among the lovers of romance; but the people of this age, being very superstitious, were very fond of stories about ghosts and goblins, believing them to be founded on fact, and also attributing feats performed by conjurors and jugglers to supernatural agency. the king himself was equally superstitious, for strutt in describing the tricks of jugglers says: "our learned monarch, james i., was perfectly convinced that these, and other inferior feats exhibited by the tregetours, could only be performed by the agency of the devil, 'who,' says he, 'will learne them many juglarie tricks, at cardes and dice, to deceive men's senses thereby, and such innumerable false practiques, which are proved by over-many in this age.'"[ ] looking back to the ancient superstitions about ghosts and fairies, dryden, the poet, has some lines which may fitly close this chapter:-- "i speak of ancient times, for now the swain returning late may pass the woods in vain, and never hope to see the mighty train; in vain the dairy now with mint is dressed, the dairy-maid expects no fairy guest, to skim the bowls and after pay the feast. she sighs and shakes her empty shoes in vain, no silver penny to reward her pain: for priests, with prayers and other godly gear, have made the merry goblins disappear." [ ] "curiosities of literature." [ ] "memoirs of ben jonson." [ ] "progresses of king james the first." [ ] cassell's "history of england." [ ] this portion is inserted to introduce _the prince's triumph_, as they are termed. [ ] cassell's "history of england." [ ] nichols's "progresses." [ ] "camden's annals." [ ] "progresses." [ ] "library of english literature." [ ] "dæmonologie," by king james i. chapter ix. christmas under charles i. and the commonwealth. ( - .) king charles the first was the second son of james i. and of anne, daughter of frederick iii., king of denmark, and he came to the throne on the death of his father in march . as prince charles he had taken part in the court entertainments of christmastide, and had particularly distinguished himself in ben jonson's masque, "the vision of delight." these magnificent christmas masques were continued after charles's accession to the throne until the troubles of his reign stopped them. gifford[ ] mentions that jonson's "masque of owls" was presented at kenilworth castle, "by the ghost of captain cox mounted on his hobby-horse, in ":-- "_enter_ captain cox, _on his hobby-horse._ room! room! for my horse will wince, if he come within so many yards of a prince; and though he have not on his wings, he will do strange things, he is the pegasus that uses to wait on warwick muses; and on gaudy-days he paces before the coventry graces; for to tell you true, and in rhyme, he was foal'd in queen elizabeth's time, when the great earl of lester in this castle did feast her." [illustration: the hobby-horse.] jonson's "the fortunate isles, and their union," a masque designed for the court, was presented on twelfth night, ; and "love's triumph through callipolis" (a masque invented by ben jonson and inigo jones) was presented at court in . the lord of misrule also made merry at christmas at this period; but it sometimes happened that when he went forth with his band of merry men, they got into trouble. an instance of this, which occurred in , is recorded in one of meade's letters to sir martin stuteville. the letter is worth reprinting as an illustration of the manners of the age, and as relating to what was probably the last lord of misrule elected by the barristers. meade writes:--"on saturday the templars chose one mr. palmer their lord of misrule, who, on twelfth-eve, late in the night, sent out to gather up his rents at five shillings a house in ram-alley and fleet street. at every door they came to they winded the temple-horn, and if at the second blast or summons they within opened not the door, then the lord of misrule cried out, 'give fire, gunner!' his gunner was a robustious vulcan, and the gun or petard itself was a huge overgrown smith's hammer. this being complained of to my lord mayor, he said he would be with them about eleven o'clock on sunday night last; willing that all that ward should attend him with their halberds, and that himself, besides those that came out of his house, should bring the watches along with him. his lordship, thus attended, advanced as high as ram-alley in martial equipage: when forth came the lord of misrule, attended by his gallants, out of the temple-gate, with their swords all armed _in cuerpo_. a halberdier bade the lord of misrule come to my lord mayor. he answered, no! let the lord mayor come to me! at length they agreed to meet halfway: and, as the interview of rival princes is never without danger of some ill accident, so it happened in this: for first, mr. palmer being quarrelled with for not pulling off his hat to my lord mayor, and giving cross answers, the halberds began to fly about his ears, and he and his company to brandish their swords. at last being beaten to the ground, and the lord of misrule sore wounded, they were fain to yield to the longer and more numerous weapon. my lord mayor taking mr. palmer by the shoulder, led him to the compter, and thrust him in at the prison-gate with a kind of indignation; and so, notwithstanding his hurts, he was forced to lie among the common prisoners for two nights. on tuesday the king's attorney became a suitor to my lord mayor for their liberty: which his lordship granted, upon condition that they should repay the gathered rents, and do reparations upon broken doors. thus the game ended. mr. attorney-general, being of the same house, fetched them in his own coach, and carried them to the court, where the king himself reconciled my lord mayor and them together with joining all hands; the gentlemen of the temple being this shrovetide to present a mask to their majesties, over and besides the king's own great mask, to be performed at the banquetting-house by an hundred actors." we get other glances at the christmas festivities in the th century through contemporary writers of the period. nicholas breton,[ ] writing in merry mood, says: "it is now christmas, and not a cup of drink must pass without a carol; the beasts, fowl, and fish come to a general execution, and the corn is ground to dust for the bakehouse and the pastry: cards and dice purge many a purse, and the youth show their agility in shoeing of the wild mare: now, good cheer, and welcome, and god be with you, and i thank you:--and against the new year provide for the presents:--the lord of misrule is no mean man for his time, and the guests of the high table must lack no wine: the lusty bloods must look about them like men, and piping and dancing puts away much melancholy: stolen venison is sweet, and a fat coney is worth money: pit-falls are now set for small birds, and a woodcock hangs himself in a gin: a good fire heats all the house, and a full alms-basket makes the beggar's prayers:--the maskers and the mummers make the merry sport, but if they lose their money their drum goes dead: swearers and swaggerers are sent away to the ale-house, and unruly wenches go in danger of judgment; musicians now make their instruments speak out, and a good song is worth the hearing. in sum it is a holy time, a duty in christians for the remembrance of christ and custom among friends for the maintenance of good fellowship. in brief i thus conclude it: i hold it a memory of the heaven's love and the world's peace, the mirth of the honest, and the meeting of the friendly. farewell." in , william prynne, a puritan lawyer, published his "histriomastix," against plays, masques, balls, the decking of houses with evergreens at christmas, &c., for which he was committed to the tower, prosecuted in the star chamber, and sentenced to pay a fine to the king of £ , , to be expelled from the university of oxford, from the society of lincoln's inn, and from his profession of the law; to stand twice in the pillory, each time losing an ear; to have his book burnt before his face by the hangman; and to suffer perpetual imprisonment: a most barbarous sentence, which green[ ] says, "showed the hard cruelty of the primate." milton's masque of "comus" was produced the following year ( ) for performance at ludlow castle, in shropshire, which was the seat of government for the principality of wales, the earl of bridgewater being then the lord president, and having a jurisdiction and military command that comprised the english counties of gloucester, worcester, hereford and shropshire. ludlow castle was to the lord president of wales of that period what dublin castle is to the lord lieutenant of ireland in the present day; and, as hospitality was one of the duties of the lord president's office, the earl and countess of bridgewater gave a grand entertainment to the country people, in which the masque of "comus" was an important feature. the music was composed by the eminent musician henry lawes, and the masque was adapted for performance by the family of the earl and countess, who then had ten children--eight daughters and two sons. it is quite refreshing to think of the author of "paradise lost," with his friend lawes, the musician, among the country dancers, listening to the song of the attendant spirit:-- "back, shepherds, back; enough your play till next sun-shine holiday: here be, without duck or nod, other trippings to be trod of lighter toes, and such court guise as mercury did first devise with the mincing dryades, on the lawns, and on the leas." "but milton was a courtier when he wrote the masque at ludlow castle," says charles lamb, "and still more of a courtier when he composed the 'arcades'" (a masque, or entertainment presented to the countess dowager of derby, at harefield, by some noble persons of her family). "when the national struggle was to begin, he becomingly cast these varieties behind him." from "archæologia" (vol. xviii. p. ), we learn that "richard evelyn, esq., high sheriff of surrey and sussex in , held a splendid christmas at his mansion at wotton, having a regular lord of misrule for the occasion: and it appears it was then the custom for the neighbours to send presents of eatables to provide for the great consumption consequent upon such entertainments. the following is a list of those sent on this occasion: two sides of venison, two half brawns, three pigs, ninety capons, five geese, six turkeys, four rabbits, eight partridges, two pullets, five sugar loaves, half a pound of nutmeg, one basket of apples, two baskets of pears." hone[ ] states that "in the ninth year of king charles i. the four inns of court provided a christmas mask, which cost £ , , and the king invited a hundred and twenty gentlemen of the four inns to a mask at whitehall on shrove tuesday following." and sandys says that on the th december, , a warrant under privy seal was issued to george kirke, for £ to provide masking apparel for the king; and on the st of the same month edmund taverner had a warrant for £ , towards the charge of a mask to be presented at whitehall the next twelfth night. a similar sum for a similar purpose was granted to michael oldisworth on the rd of january, . in connection with the entertainments at the inns of court, sandys mentions that by an order, th november, th charles i., all playing at dice, cards, or otherwise was forbidden at gray's inn, except during the days in christmas. as indicating the prolongation of the christmas revels at this period, it is recorded that in february, , there was a celebrated masque, called "the triumph of peace," presented jointly by the two temples, lincoln's inn and gray's inn, which cost the societies about £ , . evelyn, in his "memoirs," relates, that on the th december, , he was elected one of the comptrollers of the middle temple revellers, "as the custom of ye young students and gentlemen was, the christmas being kept this yeare with greate solemnity"; but he got excused. an order still existed directing the nobility and gentry who had mansions in the country "to repair to them to keep hospitality meet to their degrees;" for a note in collier's history states that sir j. astley, on the th of march, , in consequence of ill-health, obtained a license to reside in london, or where he pleased, at christmas, or any other times; which proves such license to have been requisite. at this period noblemen and gentlemen lived like petty princes, and in the arrangement of their households copied their sovereign, having officers of the same import, and even heralds wearing their coat of arms at christmas, and other solemn feasts, crying largesse thrice at the proper times. they feasted in their halls where many of the christmas sports were performed. when coals were introduced the hearth was commonly in the middle, whence, according to aubrey, is the saying, "round about our coal-fire." christmas was considered as the commemoration of a holy festival, to be observed with cheerfulness as well as devotion. the comforts and personal gratification of their dependants were provided for by the landlords, their merriment encouraged, and their sports joined. the working man looked forward to christmas as the time which repaid his former toils; and gratitude for worldly comforts then received caused him to reflect on the eternal blessings bestowed on mankind by the event then commemorated. [illustration: servants' christmas feast.] of all our english poets, robert herrick, a writer of the seventeenth century, has left us the most complete contemporary picture of the christmas season. he was born in cheapside, london, and received his early education, it is supposed, at westminster school, whence he removed to cambridge, and after taking his m.a. degree in , left cambridge. he afterwards spent some years in london in familiar intercourse with the wits and writers of the age, enjoying those "lyric feasts" which are celebrated in his "ode to ben jonson":-- "ah ben! say how or when shall we, thy guests meet at those lyric feasts made at the sun, the dog, the triple tun; where we such clusters had as made us nobly wild, not mad? and yet each verse of thine outdid the meat, outdid the frolic wine." in he accepted the living of dean prior, in devonshire, where he lived as a bachelor vicar, being ejected by the long parliament, returning on the restoration under charles the second, and dying at length at the age of eighty-four. he was buried in the church at dean prior, where a memorial tablet has latterly been erected to his memory. and it is fitting that he should die and be buried in the quiet devonshire hamlet from which he drew so much of his happiest inspiration, and which will always be associated now with the endless charm of the "hesperides." in "a new year's gift, sent to sir simeon steward," included in his "hesperides," herrick refers to the christmas sports of the time, and says:-- "no new device or late-found trick * * * * * we send you; but here a jolly verse crowned with ivy and with holly; that tells of winter's tales and mirth, that milk-maids make about the hearth, of christmas sports, the wassail bowl, that's tossed up after fox-i'-th'-hole; of blind-man's-buff, and of the care that young men have to shoe the mare; of twelfth-tide cake, of peas and beans, wherewith ye make those merry scenes, when as ye choose your king and queen, and cry out, 'hey for our town green.' of ash-heaps in the which ye use husbands and wives by streaks to choose: of crackling laurel, which fore-sounds a plenteous harvest to your grounds; of these, and such like things, for shift, we send instead of new-year's gift. read then, and when your faces shine with bucksome meat and cap'ring wine, remember us in cups full crowned, and let our city's health go round, quite through the young maids and the men, to the ninth number, if not ten, until the firèd chestnuts leap for joy to see the fruits ye reap, from the plump chalice and the cup that tempts till it be tossèd up. then as ye sit about your embers, call not to mind those fled decembers; but think on these, that are t' appear, as daughters to the instant year; sit crowned with rose-buds and carouse, till _liber pater_ twirls the house about your ears, and lay upon the year, your cares, that's fled and gone. and let the russet swains the plough and harrow hang up resting now; and to the bagpipe all address till sleep takes place of weariness. and thus, throughout, with christmas plays, frolic the full twelve holy-days." sir isaac newton's birth, on christmas day, at woolsthorpe, lincolnshire, was the most important christmas event of the memorable year which saw the outbreak of the civil war ( ). in the year of the restoration he entered cambridge, where the teaching of isaac barrow quickened his genius for mathematics, and from the time he left college his life became a series of wonderful physical discoveries. as early as , he discovered the law of gravitation, but it was not till the eve of the revolution that his "principia" revealed to the world his new theory of the universe. the customs of christmastide in the seventeenth century. "a christmas carol," by george wither, a well-known poet of this period, contains many allusions to the customs of christmastide:-- so, now is come our joyful'st feast; let every man be jolly; each room with ivy leaves is drest, and every post with holly. though some churls at our mirth repine, round your foreheads garlands twine; drown sorrow in a cup of wine, and let us all be merry. now all our neighbours' chimneys smoke, and christmas blocks are burning; their ovens they with baked meats choke, and all their spits are turning. without the door let sorrow lie; and if for cold it hap to die, we'll bury 't in a christmas pie, and ever more be merry. now every lad is wondrous trim, and no man minds his labour; our lasses have provided them a bag-pipe and a tabour; young men and maids, and girls and boys, give life to one another's joys; and you anon shall by their noise perceive that they are merry. rank misers now do sparing shun; their hall of music soundeth; and dogs thence with whole shoulders run, so all things there aboundeth. the country folks themselves advance with crowdy-muttons[ ] out of france; and jack shall pipe, and jill shall dance, and all the town be merry. ned squash hath fetched his bands from pawn, and all his best apparel; brisk nell hath bought a ruff of lawn with droppings of the barrel; and those that hardly all the year had bread to eat, or rags to wear, will have both clothes and dainty fare, and all the day be merry. now poor men to the justices with capons make their errants; and if they hap to fail of these; they plague them with their warrants; but now they feed them with good cheer. and what they want they take in beer; for christmas comes but once a year, and then they shall be merry. good farmers in the country nurse the poor that else were undone; some landlords spend their money worse, on lust and pride at london. there the roys'ters they do play, drab and dice their lands away, which may be ours another day; and therefore let's be merry. the client now his suit forbears, the prisoner's heart is eased: the debtor drinks away his cares, and for the time is pleased. though other purses be more fat, why should we pine or grieve at that? hang sorrow! care will kill a cat, and therefore let's be merry. hark! how the wags abroad do call each other forth to rambling: anon you'll see them in the hall for nuts and apples scrambling. hark! how the roofs with laughter sound! anon they'll think the house goes round, for they the cellar's depth have found, and there they will be merry. the wenches with their wassail bowls about the streets are singing; the boys are come to catch the owls, the wild mare in is bringing. our kitchen-boy hath broke his box,[ ] and to the dealing of the ox our honest neighbours come by flocks, and here they will be merry. now kings and queens poor sheep cotes have, and mate with everybody; the honest now may play the knave, and wise men play the noddy. some youths will now a mumming go, some others play at rowland-ho and twenty other gambols mo, because they will be merry. then wherefore in these merry days should we, i pray, be duller? no, let us sing some roundelays, to make our mirth the fuller. and, whilst thus inspired we sing, let all the streets with echoes ring, woods and hills, and everything, bear witness we are merry. the preceding poem was evidently written by wither before the civil war troubles of the reign of charles the first had interfered to damp the national hilarity, or check the rejoicings at the festive season of christmas. the defeat of the royalists, the overthrow of the monarchy, and the changes resulting therefrom at christmastide are alluded to in "the complaint of christmas, written after twelftide, and printed before candlemas, ," by old john taylor, the water poet, who says: "all the liberty and harmless sports, the merry gambols, dances and friscols, with which the toiling ploughman and labourer once a year were wont to be recreated, and their spirits and hopes revived for a whole twelvemonth, are now extinct and put out of use, in such a fashion as if they never had been. thus are the merry lords of bad rule at westminster; nay, more, their madness hath extended itself to the very vegetables; senseless trees, herbs, and weeds, are in a profane estimation amongst them--holly, ivy, mistletoe, rosemary, bays, are accounted ungodly branches of superstition for your entertainment. and to roast a sirloin of beef, to touch a collar of brawn, to take a pie, to put a plum in the pottage pot, to burn a great candle, or to lay one block the more in the fire for your sake, master christmas, is enough to make a man to be suspected and taken for a christian, for which he shall be apprehended for committing high parliament treason and mighty malignancy against the general council of the directorian private presbyterian conventicle." with the success of the parliamentarians, certain changes came in the ruling manners of the age; but the attempt to abolish christmas day was, of course, a signal failure. the event commemorated made it impossible for the commemoration to cease. men may differ as to the mode of celebration, but the christ must and will be celebrated. "in ," says sandys, "the first ordinances were issued to suppress the performance of plays, and hesitation was expressed as to the manner of keeping christmas. some shops in london were even opened on christmas day, , part of the people being fearful of a popish observance of the day. the puritans gradually prevailed, and in some parish officers were committed for permitting ministers to preach upon christmas day, and for adorning the church. on the rd of june in the same year, it was ordained by the lords and commons in parliament that the feast of the nativity of christ, with other holidays, should be no longer observed, and that all scholars, apprentices, and other servants, with the leave and approbation of their masters, should have such relaxation from labour on the second tuesday in every month as they used to have from such festivals and holy days; and in canterbury, on the nd of december following, the crier went round by direction of the mayor, and proclaimed that christmas day and all other superstitious festivals should be put down, and a market kept upon that day." in describing "the first christmas under the puritan directory," the _saturday review_ (december , ) says:--"it must have been taken as a piece of good luck by the parliamentary and puritanical masters of england, or, as they would have said, as 'a providence,' that the christmas day of fell upon a week-day. it was the first christmas day after the legislative abolition of the anglican prayer-book and the establishment of 'the directory' in its stead; and, if it had fallen upon a sunday, the churches must have been opened. a 'sabbath' could not be ignored, even though it chanced to be the th of december. there can be small doubt that, if the presbyterian and independent preachers who held all the english parishes subject to the parliament had been obliged to go into the pulpits on the th of december , they would again have irritated the masses of the people by ferociously 'improving the occasion.' the parliament had not the courage to repeat the brutal experiment of the previous year. it was easy to abolish the feast by an ordinance; but it was risky to insist by an ordinance that the english people and english families should keep the dearest and most sacred of their festivals as a fast. the rulers knew that such an ordinance would not be obeyed. they resolved simply to ignore the day, or treat it as any ordinary thursday. doubtless many of the members kept up some sort of celebration of the old family festival in their own private houses. but the legislators marched solemnly to the lower house, and the 'divines' marched as solemnly to the assembly in the jerusalem chamber, affecting to take no notice of the unusual aspect of the shops and streets, which everywhere bore witness to the fact that there was a deep and fundamental estrangement between 'the state' and 'the people,' and that the people were actually keeping the festival which the 'synod' had declared to be profane and superstitious, and which the parliament to please the scots, the nonconformists, and the sectaries, had abolished by law. 'notwithstanding the ordinance,' wrote a member of the house of commons, the erastian whitelock, in his 'memorials,' 'yet generally this day, in london, the shops were shut and the day observed.' the christmas number of the _mercurius academicus_ (december to , ), states that general browne, who was a presbyterian zealot, 'proclaimed' the abolition of christmas day at abingdon, and 'sent out his warrants for men to work on that day especially.' ... the parliamentary newspaper, _the weekly account_, (liii. week, ), has the bald record: 'thursday, decemb. . the commons sate in a grand committee concerning the privileges of members of their house.' the news in the tuesday paper, _the kingdome's weekly intelligencer_ (no. ), is equally thin: 'thursday, decemb. , vulgarly known by the name of christmas day, both houses sate. the house of commons more especially debated some things in reference to the privileges of that house, and made some orders therein.' ... the presbyterian and independent divines spent christmas day in the 'synod' of westminster. december the th, , was entered in their minutes as 'session .' ... the city newspaper of that period, _mercurius civicus, or london's intelligencer_, in what we may call its christmas number (no. , december to december , ), printed an article explaining to the citizens of london the absurdity, if not the impiety, of keeping christmas day. every good citizen was expected to open his shop as usual on the coming thursday, and compel his apprentices to keep behind the counter. the city newspaper stated, that it was more probable that the saviour was born in september than in december, and quotes 'a late reverend minister's opinion, that god did conceale the time when christ was borne, upon the same reason that he tooke away the body of moses, that they might not put an holinesse upon that day.' if the apprentices want a holiday, 'let them keep the fift of november, and other dayes of that nature, or the late great mercy of god in the taking of hereford, which deserves an especiall day of thanksgiving.' the mass of the english folk meanwhile protested by all such ways as were open to them against the outlandish new religion which was being invented for them. the _mercuricus civicus_ complained that, 'many people in these times are too much addicted to the superstitious observance of this day, december th, and other saints days, as they are called.' it was asked in a 'hue and cry after christmas,' published anonymously at the end of the year , 'where may christmas be found?' the answer is, 'in the corner of a translator's shop, where the cobbler was wont so merrily to chant his carols.' _the moderate intelligencer_, which devoted itself to 'impartially communicating martiall affaires,' in its forty-third number (december , , to january , ), expressed itself as scandalized at the zeal with which the english people, in spite of parliament and the assembly, had kept their christmas. social phenomena lay beyond the usual ken of the military chroniclers; but 'we shall only observe,' they wrote, 'the loathnesse of the people to part with it, which certainly argues a greater adoration than should have been. hardly forty shops were open within the lines upon that day. the state hath done well to null it out of this respect, as moses did the brazen serpent.' the scriptural knowledge of the puritan military newsmen was curiously at fault; they evidently confounded moses with hezekiah, unless they substituted the lawgiver for the king, because they thought it unwise to represent the king as the foe of idolatry. the traditional scorn of the pharisee for the common people which know not the law comes out in the ironical passage with which the 'martiall' organ concludes its reference to the distressing social symptom; 'sure if there were an ordinance for recreation and labour upon the lord's day, or sabbath (like the prelatical book of sports), these would want no observers. unwillingness to obey, in a multitude, argues generally the goodnesse of a law, readinesse the contrary, especially in those laws which have anything of religion in them.' hence the puritanical tyrants thought the observation of christmas day should be visited in future years with more severe penalties. a few days after christmas a pamphlet was issued under the title of 'the arraignment, conviction, and imprisonment of christmas.' a letter from a 'malignant scholar' in oxford, where christmas had been observed as usual, to 'a malignant lady in london,' had contained the promise or threat, according to the pamphleteer, that the king would shortly appear in london, and restore to his poor people their old social and religious liberties. 'we shall soon be in london, and have all things as they were wont.' there was small chance, six months after naseby, of the fulfilment of the prediction. the puritanical pamphleteer, however, owns that it would be welcome to 'every 'prentice boy,' because the return of the king would have meant the return of a free christmas, which he sorely missed. 'all popish, prelatical, jesuitical, ignorant, judaical, and superstitious persons,' said he, 'ask after the old, old, old, very old grey-bearded gentleman called christmas, who was wont to be a very familiar ghest (_sic_). whoever finds him again shall be rewarded with a benediction from the pope, a hundred oaths from the cavaliers, forty kisses from the wanton wenches, and be made pursuivant to the next archbishop.' 'the poor,' he added, 'are sorry for it. they go to every door a-begging, as they were wont to do, 'good mistress, somewhat against this good time.' instead of going to the alehouse to be drunke, they are fain to work all the holy dayes.' again, 'the schollars come into the hall, where their hungry stomacks had thought to have found good brawne and christmas pie, roast-beef and plum-porridge. but no such matter. away, ye profane! these are superstitious meats; your stomacks must be fed with sound doctrine.'" in the _national magazine_ ( ), dr. doran, on "the ups and downs of christmas," remarks upon the stout resistance given by the citizens of london to the order of the puritan parliament, that shops should be opened and churches closed on christmas day. "we may have a sermon on any other day," said the london apprentices, who did not always go to hear it, "why should we be deprived on this day?" "it is no longer lawful for the day to be kept," was the reply. "nay," exclaimed the sharp-witted fellows, "you keep it yourselves by thus distinguishing it by desecration." "they declared," says dr. doran, "they would go to church; numerous preachers promised to be ready for them with prayer and lecture; and the porters of cornhill swore they would dress up their conduit with holly, if it were only to prove that in that orthodox and heavily-enduring body there was some respect yet left for christianity and hard drinking--for the raising of the holly was ever accompanied by the lifting of tankards. "nor was the gallant christmas spirit less lively in the country than in the capital. at oxford there was a world of skull-breaking; and at ipswich the festival was celebrated by some loss of life. canterbury especially distinguished itself by its violent opposition to the municipal order to be mirthless. there was a combat there, which was most rudely maintained, and in which the mayor got pummelled until he was as senseless as a pocket of hops. the mob mauled him terribly, broke all his windows, as well as his bones, and, as we are told, 'burnt the stoupes at the coming in of his door.' so serious was the riot, so complete the popular victory, and so jubilant the exultation, that thousands of the never-conquered men of kent and kentish men met in canterbury, and passed a solemn resolution that if they could not have their christmas day, they were determined to have the king on his throne again." of the canterbury riot an account is given in a rare tract, published in (preserved in the british museum), and entitled-- "the declaration of many thousands of the city of canterbury, or county of kent. concerning the late tumult in the city of canterbury, provokt by the mayor's violent proceedings against those who desired to continue the celebration of the feast of christ's nativity, , years and upwards maintained in the church. together with their resolutions for the restitution of his majestie to his crown and dignity, whereby religion may be restored to its ancient splendour, and the known laws of this kingdom maintained. as also their desires to all his majesties loyall subjects within his dominions, for their concurrence and assistance in this so good and pious a work." the resolutions of the canterbury citizens were not couched in the choicest terms, for the tract states that the two houses of parliament "have sate above seven years to hatch cocatrices and vipers, they have filled the kingdom with serpents, bloodthirsty souldiers, extorting committees, sequestrators, excisemen; all the rogues and scumme of the kingdom have they set on work to torment and vex the people, to rob them, and to eat the bread out of their mouthes; they have raised a causelesse and unnaturall warre against their own soveraigne lord and king, a most pious christian prince, contrary to their allegiance and duty, and have shed innocent blood in this land. religion is onely talkt of, nothing done; they have put down what is good," &c., &c. and further on the tract says:--"the cause of this so sudden a posture of defence which we have put our selves into was the violent proceedings of the mayor of this city of canterbury and his uncivill carriage in persuance of some petty order of the house of commons for hindering the celebration of christ's nativity so long continued in the church of god. that which we so much desired that day was but a sermon, which any other day of the weeke was tollerable by the orders and practise of the two houses and all their adherents, but that day (because it was christ's birth day) we must have none; that which is good all the yeer long, yet is this day superstitious. the mayor causing some of us to be beaten contrary to his oath and office, who ought to preserve the peace, and to that purpose chiefly is the sword of justice put into his hands, and wrongfully imprisoned divers of us, because we did assemble ourselves to hear the word of god, which he was pleased to interpret a ryot; yet we were unarmed, behaved ourselves civilly, intended no such tumult as afterwards we were forc'd unto; but at last, seeing the manifest wrong done to our children, servants, and neighbours, by beating, wounding, and imprisoning them, and to release them that were imprisoned, and did call unto our assistance our brethren of the county of kent, who very readily came in to us, as have associated themselves to us in this our just and lawfull defence, and do concurre with us in this our remonstrance concerning the king majestie, and the settlement of the peace in this kingdome." and the tract afterwards expresses the desire that "all his majesties loyall subjects within his dominions" will "readily and cheerfully concurre and assist in this so good and pious a work." among the single sheets in the british museum is an order of parliament, dated the th of december, , directing, "that no observation shall be had of the five and twentieth day of december, commonly called christmas day; nor any solemnity used or exercised in churches upon that day in respect thereof." referring to the celebration of christmas day in , evelyn says:-- "i went to london with my wife to celebrate christmas day, mr. gunning preaching in exeter chapel, on micah vii. . sermon ended; as he was giving us the holy sacrament the chapel was surrounded with soldiers, and all the communicants and assembly surprised and kept prisoners by them, some in the house, others carried away. it fell to my share to be confined to a room in the house, where yet i was permitted to dine with the master of it, the countess of dorset, lady hatton, and some others of quality who invited me. in the afternoon came colonel whalley, goffe, and others from whitehall to examine us one by one; some they committed to the marshal, some to prison. when i came before them they took my name and abode, examined me why, contrary to the ordinance made that none should any longer observe the superstitious time of the nativity (as esteemed by them), i durst offend, and particularly be at common prayers, which they told me was but the mass in english, and particularly pray for charles stuart, for which we had no scripture. i told them we did not pray for charles stuart, but for all christian kings, princes, and governors. they replied, in so doing we prayed for the king of spain too, who was their enemy and a papist; with other frivolous and ensnaring questions and much threatening, and, finding no colour to detain me, they dismissed me with much pity of my ignorance. these were men of high flight and above ordinances, and spake spiteful things of our lord's nativity. as we went up to receive the sacrament the miscreants held their muskets against us, as if they would have shot us at the altar, but yet suffering us to finish the office of communion, as perhaps not having instructions what to do in case they found us in that action; so i got home late the next day, blessed be god!" notwithstanding the adverse acts of the puritans, however, and the suppression of christmas observances in high places, the old customs and festivities were still observed in different parts of the country, though with less ostentation than formerly; and various publications appeared which plainly showed that the popular sentiments were in favour of the festivities. the motto of no. of _mercurius democritus_, from december , , begins: "old christmas now is come to town though few do him regard, he laughs to see them going down that have put down his lord." in "the vindication of father christmas," , a mock complaint in the character of father christmas, he laments the treatment he had received for the last twelve years, and that he was even then but coolly received. "but welcome, or not welcome, i am come," he says, and then states that his "best and freest welcome was with some kinde of country farmers in devonshire," thus describing his entertainment among them:--"after dinner we arose from the boord, and sate by the fire, where the harth was imbrodered all over with roasted apples, piping hot, expecting a bole of ale for a cooler, which immediately was transformed into warm lamb wool. after which we discoursed merily, without either prophaneness or obscenity; some went to cards; others sung carols and pleasant songs (suitable to the times), and then the poor laboring hinds, and maid-servants, with the plow-boys, went nimbly to dancing; the poor toyling wretches being glad of my company, because they had little or no sport at all till i came amongst them; and therefore they skipped and leaped for joy, singing a carol to the tune of hey, "let's dance and sing, and make good chear, for christmas comes but once a year: draw hogsheads dry, let flagons fly, for now the bells shall ring; whilst we endeavour to make good the title 'gainst a king. "thus at active games, and gambols of hot cockles, shooing the wild mare, and the like harmless sports, some part of the tedious night was spent." [illustration] the national troubles were not brought to an end by the execution of charles i. on the th of january, . in addition to the rioting caused by the attempt to abolish the festival of christmas by law, the lord protector (oliver cromwell) had to struggle against discontented republicans and also against fresh outbreaks of the royalists; and, although able to carry on the protectorate to the end of his own life, cromwell was unable to secure a strong successor. he died on september , , having on his deathbed nominated his son richard to succeed him. richard cromwell was accepted in england and by the european powers, and carried himself discreetly in his new position. a parliament was assembled on january , , which recognised the new protector, but the republican minority, headed by vane and haselrig, united with the officers of the army, headed by lambert, fleetwood, and desborough, to force him to dissolve parliament (april , ). the protector's supporters urged him to meet force by force, but he replied, "i will not have a drop of blood spilt for the preservation of my greatness, which is a burden to me." he signed a formal abdication (may, ), in return for which the restored rump undertook the discharge of his debts. after the restoration richard cromwell fled to the continent, where he remained for many years, returning to england in . a portion of his property was afterwards restored to him. he died at cheshunt, hertfordshire, in . on richard cromwell declining to uphold the protectorate by force of arms, the only hope of establishing a settled form of government and of saving the country from a military despotism seemed to be in the restoration of the monarchy; therefore, chiefly through the instrumentality of general monk, charles, the son of charles i. and henrietta maria, was invited to return to england. he at once responded, and entered london in triumph as charles ii., on may , , having previously signed the declaration of breda. by this declaration the king granted a free and general pardon to all "who within forty days after the publishing hereof shall lay hold upon this our grace and favour, and shall by any public act declare their doing so," except such as the parliament of both houses should except. [ ] "works of ben jonson." [ ] "fantasticks," . [ ] "history of the english people." [ ] "year book." [ ] fiddlers. [ ] an allusion to the christmas money-box, made of earthenware which required to be broken to obtain possession of the money it held. [illustration] chapter x. christmas from the restoration to the death of george ii. ( - .) [illustration] the restoration of the monarchy under charles ii., sometimes styled the "merry monarch," was an occasion of great rejoicing, and the spirit in which the so-long-fugitive prince, who once eluded his pursuers by hiding in an oak, was now welcomed as "charles our king" by "the roaring, ranting" portion of the populace is set forth in the following ballad, written for the first christmas after the restoration, printed in london, the same year, and now copied from a collection of illustrated broadsides preserved in the library of the british museum:-- merry boys of christmas, or the milk-maid's new year's gift. when lads and lasses take delight, together for to be; they pass away the winter night, and live most merrily. to the tune of, _hey boys up go we_. come, come my roaring ranting boys lets never be cast down, we'l never mind the female toys, but loyal be to th' crown: we'l never break our hearts with care, nor be cast down with fear, our bellys then let us prepare to drink some christmas beer. then here's a health to charles our king, throughout the world admir'd, let us his great applauses sing, that we so much desir'd, and wisht amongst us for to reign, when oliver rul'd here, but since he's home return'd again, come fill some christmas beer. these holidays we'l briskly drink, all mirth we will devise, no treason we will speak or think, then bring us brave minc'd pies roast beef and brave plum porridge, our loyal hearts to chear, then prithee make no more ado, but bring us christmas beer. [illustration: "the hackin"] [in these times all the spits were sparkling the _hackin_ must be boiled by daybreak or else two young men took the maiden by the arms and run her round the market place till she was ashamed of her laziness.--_round about our coal fire or christmas entertainments_ published in .] many of the popular songs of this period complain of the decline of the christmas celebrations during the time of the commonwealth, and some of them contrast the present with former celebrations. in a ballad called "the old and young courtier," printed in , comparing the times of queen elizabeth with those of her successors, the fifth and twelfth verses contain the following parallel respecting christmas-- v "with a good old fashion, when christmasse was come, to call in all his old neighbours with bagpipe and drum, with good chear enough to furnish every old room, and old liquor, able to make a cat speak, and man dumb like an old courtier of the queen's, and the queen's old courtier" xii "with a new fashion, when christmas is drawing on, on a new journey to london straight we all must begone, and leave none to keep house, but our new porter john, who relieves the poor with a thump on the back with a stone, like a young courtier of the king's, and the king's young courtier" (_percy's reliques_) another called "time's alteration, or, the old man's rehearsal, what brave dayes he knew a great while agone, when his old cap was new," says-- "a man might then behold, at christmas, in each hall, good fires to curb the cold and meat for great and small; the neighbours were friendly bidden, and all had welcome true, the poor from the gates were not chidden, when this old cap was new black jacks to every man were filled with wine and beer, no pewter pot nor can in those days did appear good cheer in a nobleman's house was counted a seemly shew, we wanted no brawn nor souse, when this old cap was new." (_evans's ballads_) referring to the restoration of the monarchy, and contrasting it with the protectorate period, _poor robin's almanack_, , says-- "now thanks to god for charles' return, whose absence made old christmas mourn, for then we scarcely did it know, whether it christmas were or no * * * * * to feast the poor was counted sin, when treason that great praise did win may we ne'er see the like again, the roguish rump should o'er us reign." after the restoration an effort was made to revive the christmas entertainments of the court at whitehall, but they do not appear to have recovered their former splendour. the habits of charles the second were of too sensual a nature to induce him to interest himself in such pursuits; besides which the manners of the country had been changed during the sway of the puritans. pepys states that charles ii. visited lincoln's inn to see the christmas revels of , "there being, according to an old custom, a prince and all his nobles, and other matters of sport and charge." and the diary of the rev. john ward, vicar of stratford-upon-avon, extending from to , states: "the duke of norfolk expended £ , in keeping christmas. charles ii. gave over keeping that festival on this account; his munificence gave great offence at court." sandys mentions that a pastoral called _calisto_, written by crowne, was acted by the daughters of the duke of york and the young nobility. about the same time the lady anne, afterwards queen, acted the part of semandra in lee's "mithridates." betterton and his wife instructed the performers, in remembrance of which, when anne came to the throne, she gave the latter a pension of £ a year. the inns of court also had their christmas feasts; but the conduct of them was evidently not so much coveted as in former times, for there is an entry in the records of gray's inn on november , , "that mr. richard gipps, on his promise to perform the office of master of the revels, this and the next term, be called to the bar of grace," _i.e._, without payment of the usual fees: thus holding out a reward for his services, instead of allowing him, as in former times, to spend a large portion of his private fortune unrequited, except by the honour of the temporary office. among the principal of the royal amusements in the time of charles the second were horse-racing and theatrical performances. the king kept an establishment at newmarket, where, according to strutt, "he entered horses and ran them in his name." and the author of some doggerel verses, referring to burford downs, says:-- "next for the glory of the place, here has been rode many a race,-- king charles the second i saw here; but i've forgotten in what year." christmas at sea in . the rev. henry teonge, chaplain of an english ship of war, gives in his diary a description of the manner in which the christmas was spent on board, in :--"dec. , .--crismas day wee keepe thus. at in the morning our trumpeters all doe flatt their trumpetts, and begin at our captain's cabin, and thence to all the officers' and gentlemen's cabins; playing a levite at each cabine door, and bidding good morrow, wishing a merry crismas. after they goe to their station, viz., on the poope, and sound levitts in honour of the morning. at wee goe to prayers and sermon; text, zacc. ix. . our captaine had all his officers and gentlemen to dinner with him, where wee had excellent good fayre: a ribb of beife, plumb-puddings, minct pyes, &c. and plenty of good wines of severall sorts; dranke healths to the king, to our wives and friends, and ended the day with much civill myrth." [illustration] christmas-keeping in the country, at this period, is referred to by different writers. among the garrick plays in the british museum is "_the christmas ordinary, a private show_; wherein is expressed the jovial freedom of that festival: as it was acted at a gentleman's house among other revels. by w. r., master of arts, to. london, ." the memoirs of the hospitable sir john reresby (camden society) contain references to the christmas festivities at thrybergh. in , there assembled on christmas eve nineteen of the poorer tenants from denby and hooton; on christmas day twenty-six of the poorer tenants from thrybergh, brinsford, and mexborough; on st. stephen's day farmers and better sort of tenants to the number of fifty-four; on st. john's-day forty five of the chief tenants; on the th of december eighteen gentlemen of the neighbourhood with their wives; on the st of january sixteen gentlemen; on the th twelve of the neighbouring clergymen; and on the th seven gentlemen and tradesmen. among the guests who lodged at the house were "mr. rigden, merchant of york, and his wife, a handsome woman," and "mr. belton, an ingenious clergyman, but too much a good fellow." how the "ingenious clergyman" became "too much of a good fellow" may be easily guessed from sir john's further observation that "_the expense of liquor_, _both of wine & others, was considerable_, as of other provisions, and my friends appeared well satisfied." in , writes sir john, "i returned to thrybergh, by god's mercy, in safety, to keep christmas amongst my neighbours and tenants. i had more company this christmas than heretofore. the four first days of the new year all my tenants of thrybergh, brinsford, denby, mexborough, hooton roberts, and rotterham dined with me; the rest of the time some four-score of gentlemen and yeomen with their wives were invited, besides some that came from york; so that all the beds in the house and most in the town were taken up. there were seldom less than four-score, counting all sorts of people, that dined in the house every day, and some days many more. on new year's-day chiefly there dined above three hundred, so that whole sheep were roasted and served up to feed them. for music i had four violins, besides bagpipes, drums, and trumpets." at houghton chapel, nottinghamshire, says an old writer, "the good sir william hollis kept his house in great splendour and hospitality. he began christmas at all hallowtide, and continued it till candlemas, during which time any man was permitted to stay three days without being asked who he was, or from whence he came." this generous knight had many guests who rejoiced in the couplet:-- "if i ask'not my guest whence and whither his way, 'tis because i would have him here with me to stay." it is no part of our purpose to enter into details of the events which led up to the revolution. suffice it to say, that during the reign of charles ii. began the great struggle between the king and the people, but charles steadily refused to alter the succession by excluding his brother james. he died on the th of february, , and james ii. came to the throne in the midst of an unsettled state of affairs. james made a bold, but unsuccessful, attempt to restore the power of romanism in england, and, ultimately, consulted his own safety by fleeing to france, landing at ambleteuse, in brittany, on christmas day, , the christmas of the revolution. the flight of james put an end to the struggle between crown and people, and the offering of the crown, with constitutional limitations, to william, prince of orange, and his wife mary, daughter of king james ii. and granddaughter of king charles i. of england, speedily followed. william and mary accepted the invitation of the english people, and began their reign on february , . they both took an interest in the sports and pastimes of the people. strutt says william patronised horse-racing, "and established an academy for riding; and his queen not only continued the bounty of her predecessors, but added several plates to the former donations." the death of queen mary, from small-pox, on the th of december, , cast a gloom over the christmas festivities, and left king william almost heart-broken at her loss. as to the christmas festivities brand says that in "batt upon batt," a poem by a person of quality ( ), speaking of batt's carving knives and other implements, the author asks:-- "without their help, who can good christmas keep? our teeth would chatter and our eyes would weep; hunger and dullness would invade our feasts, did not batt find us arms against such guests. he is the cunning engineer, whose skill makes fools to carve the goose, and shape the quill: fancy and wit unto our meals supplies: carols, and not minc'd-meat, make christmas pies. 'tis mirth, not dishes, sets a table off; brutes and phanaticks eat, and never laugh. * * * * * when _brawn, with powdred wig_, comes swaggering in, and mighty serjeant ushers in the chine, what ought a wise man first to think upon? have i my tools? if not, i am undone: for 'tis a law concerns both saint and sinner, he that hath no knife must have no dinner. so he falls on; pig, goose, and capon, feel the goodness of his stomach and batt's steel. in such fierce frays, alas! there no remorse is; all flesh is grass, which makes men feed like horses: but when the battle's done, _off goes the hat_, and each man sheaths, with god-a-mercy batt.'" "batt upon batt" also gives the following account of the christmas gambols in :-- "o mortal man! is eating all you do at christ-tide? or the making sing-songs? no: our batt can _dance_, play at _high jinks with dice_, at any primitive, orthodoxal vice. _shooing the wild mare, tumbling the young wenches, drinking all night_, and sleeping on the benches. shew me a man can _shuffle fair and cut_, yet always _have three trays in hand at putt_: shew me a man can _turn up noddy_ still, and _deal himself three fives too_ when he will: conclude with _one and thirty, and a pair_, never fail _ten in stock_, and yet play fair, if batt be not that wight, i lose my aim." another enumeration of the festive sports of this season occurs (says brand) in a poem entitled christmas-- "young men and maidens, now at _feed the dove_ (with laurel leaf in mouth) or _blindman's buff_, or _hunt the slipper_ play, replete with glee. some, haply, _cards_ adopt; of it to _forfeits_ they the sport confine, the happy folk, adjacent to the fire, their stations take; excepting one alone. (sometimes the social mistress of the house) who sits within the centre of the room, to cry the pawns; much is the laughter, now, of such as can't the christmas catch repeat, and who, perchance, are sentenc'd to salute the jetty beauties of the chimney black, or lady's shoe: others, more lucky far, by hap or favour, meet a sweeter doom, and on each fair-one's lovely lips imprint the ardent kiss." _poor robin's almanack_ ( ) thus rejoices at the return of the festival:-- "now thrice welcome, christmas, which brings us good cheer, minc'd-pies and plumb-porridge, good ale and strong beer; with pig, goose, and capon, the best that may be, so well doth the weather and our stomachs agree. observe how the chimneys do smoak all about, the cooks are providing for dinner, no doubt; but those on whose tables no victuals appear, o may they keep lent all the rest of the year! with holly and ivy so green and so gay; we deck up our houses as fresh as the day, with bays and rosemary, and laurel compleat, and every one now is a king in conceit. * * * * * but as for curmudgeons, who will not be free, i wish they may die on the three-legged tree." at christmastide, , an act of attainder was passed against sir john fenwick, one of the most ardent of the jacobite conspirators who took part in the plot to assassinate the king. he was executed on tower hill, january , . this was the last instance in english history in which a person was attainted by act of parliament, and hallam's opinion of this act of attainder is that "it did not, like some acts of attainder, inflict a punishment beyond the offence, but supplied the deficiency of legal evidence." peter the great, of russia, kept the christmas of in england, residing at sayes court, a house of the celebrated john evelyn, close to deptford dockyard. [illustration] christmas, . [from _poor robin's almanack_.] now enter christmas like a man, armed with spit and dripping-pan, attended with pasty, plum-pie, puddings, plum-porridge, furmity; with beef, pork, mutton of each sort more than my pen can make report; pig, swan, goose, rabbits, partridge, teal, with legs and loins and breasts of veal: but above all the minced pies must mention'd be in any wise, or else my muse were much to blame, since they from christmas take their name. with these, or any one of these, a man may dine well if he please; yet this must well be understood,-- though one of these be singly good, yet more the merrier is the best as well of dishes as of guest. but the times are grown so bad scarce one dish for the poor is had; good housekeeping is laid aside, and all is spent to maintain pride; good works are counted popish, and small charity is in the land. a man may sooner (truth i tell ye) break his own neck than fill his belly. good god amend what is amiss and send a remedy to this, that christmas day again may rise and we enjoy our christmas pies. the christmas customs of this period are thus referred to by the "bellman, on christmas eve":-- "this night (you may my almanack believe) is the return of famous christmas eve: ye virgins then your cleanly rooms prepare, and let the windows bays and laurels wear; your _rosemary_ preserve to dress your _beef_, not forget me, which i advise in chief." [illustration] christmas, at haddon hall, was magnificently kept in the early part of the eighteenth century. the amount of good cheer that was required for the table may be readily imagined from the magnitude of the culinary furniture in the kitchen--two vast fireplaces, with irons for sustaining a surprising number of spits, and several enormous chopping-blocks--which survived to the nineteenth century. john, the ninth earl and first duke of rutland (created marquis of granby and duke of rutland in ), revived in the ancient spirit the hospitality of christmastide. he kept sevenscore servants, and his twelve days' feasts at christmas recalled the bountiful celebrations of the "king of the peak," sir george vernon--the last male heir of the vernon family in derbyshire who inherited the manor of haddon, and who died in the seventh year of queen elizabeth's reign. "the king of the peak" was the father of the charming dorothy vernon, the fair heiress, whose romantic elopement is thus depicted in "picturesque europe":--"in the fullness of time dorothy loved, but her father did not approve. she determined to elope; and now we must fill, in fancy, the long gallery with the splendour of a revel and the stately joy of a great ball in the time of elizabeth. in the midst of the noise and excitement the fair young daughter of the house steals unobserved away. she issues from _her_ door, and her light feet fly with tremulous speed along the darkling terrace, flecked with light from the blazing ball-room, till they reach a postern in the wall, which opens upon the void of the night outside dancing haddon. at that postern some one is waiting eagerly for her; waiting with swift horses. that some one is young sir john manners, second son of the house of rutland, and her own true love. the anxious lovers mount, and ride rapidly and silently away; and so dorothy vernon transfers haddon to the owners of belvoir; and the boar's head of vernon becomes mingled, at haddon, with the peacock of manners. we fancy with sympathetic pleasure that night-ride and the hurried marriage; and--forgetting that the thing happened 'ages long agone'--we wish, with full hearts, all happiness to the dear and charming dorothy!" from the boar's head of vernon and the peacock of manners, thought passes quite naturally to the boar's head and peacock, which were principal items of christmas fare in the olden time. in her "collected writings," janetta, duchess of rutland, gives an interesting account of a revival of some of the ancient glories of haddon: "in the winter of the late duke entertained the prince and princess of wales in the banqueting hall at luncheon, when the boar's head and peacock in pride were carried in, and formed part of the fare, as in olden days: while once more musicians filled the minstrels' gallery, great logs blazed in the huge fireplace, and scarlet hangings were spread over the walls." [illustration: an ancient fireplace.] on the th of february, , king william iii. fell from his horse, breaking his collar-bone and sustaining other serious injuries, which terminated fatally on sunday, the th of march. he was succeeded by queen anne, who was the second daughter of king james ii., and the last of the stuart sovereigns. queen anne kept a royal christmas at windsor, in , and entertained the new king of spain, who arrived at spithead on the th of december. "the queen dispatched the dukes of somerset and marlborough to conduct him to windsor, and prince george met him on the way at petworth, the seat of the duke of somerset, and conducted him to windsor on the th. the king was entertained in great state for three days at windsor, during which time he was politic enough to ingratiate himself with the duchess of marlborough. when the duchess presented the basin and napkin after supper to the queen for her to wash her hands, the king gallantly took the napkin and held it himself, and on returning it to the queen's great favourite, he presented her with a superb diamond ring. after three days the king returned to portsmouth, and on the th of january, , he embarked on board the fleet commanded by sir george rooke, for portugal, accompanied by a body of land forces under the duke of schomberg. the voyage was, however, a most stormy one, and when the fleet had nearly reached cape finisterre, it was compelled to put back to spithead, where it remained till the middle of february. his next attempt was more successful, and he landed in lisbon amid much popular demonstration, though the court itself was sunk in sorrow by the death of the infanta, whom he went to marry."[ ] at the christmas festivities the following year ( ) there were great rejoicings over the return home of the duke of marlborough from the continental wars. "he arrived in england in the middle of december, carrying with him marshal tallard and the rest of the distinguished officers, with the standards and other trophies of his victories. he was received with acclaim by all classes, except a few ultra tories, who threatened to impeach him for his rash march to the danube. as parliament had assembled, marlborough took his seat in the house of peers the day after his arrival, where he was complimented on his magnificent success by the lord keeper. this was followed by a deputation with a vote of thanks from the commons, and by similar honours from the city. but perhaps the most palpable triumph of marlborough was the transferring of the military trophies which he had taken from the tower, where they were first deposited, to westminster hall. this was done by each soldier carrying a standard or other trophy, amid the thunders of artillery and the hurrahs of the people; such a spectacle never having been witnessed since the days of the spanish armada. the royal manor of woodstock was granted him, and blenheim mansion erected at the cost of the nation." christmas-keeping in the country. the country squire of three hundred a year, an independent gentleman in the reign of queen anne, is described as having "never played at cards but at christmas, when the family pack was produced from the mantle-piece." "his chief drink the year round was generally ale, except at this season, the th of november, or some gala days, when he would make a bowl of strong brandy punch, garnished with a toast and nutmeg. in the corner of his hall, by the fireside, stood a large wooden two-armed chair, with a cushion, and within the chimney corner were a couple of seats. here, at christmas, he entertained his tenants, assembled round a glowing fire, made of the roots of trees, and other great logs, and told and heard the traditionary tales of the village, respecting ghosts and witches, till fear made them afraid to move. in the meantime the jorum of ale was in continual circulation."[ ] "this is yuletide! bring the holly boughs, deck the old mansion with its berries red; bring in the mistletoe, that lover's vows be sweetly sealed the while it hangs o'erhead. pile on the logs, fresh gathered from the wood, and let the firelight dance upon the walls, the while we tell the stories of the good, the brave, the noble, that the past recalls."[ ] many interesting tales respecting the manners and customs of the eighteenth century are given by steele and addison in their well-known series of papers entitled the _spectator_. charity and hospitality are conspicuous traits of the typical country gentleman of the period, sir roger de coverley. "sir roger," says the _spectator_, "after the laudable custom of his ancestors, always keeps open house at christmas. i learned from him, that he had killed eight fat hogs for this season; that he had dealt about his chines very liberally amongst his neighbours; and that in particular he had sent a string of hog's puddings with a pack of cards to every poor family in the parish. 'i have often thought,' says sir roger, 'it happens well that christmas should fall out in the middle of winter. it is the most dead uncomfortable time of the year, when the poor people would suffer very much from their poverty and cold, if they had not good cheer, warm fires, and christmas gambols to support them. i love to rejoice their poor hearts at this season, and to see the whole village merry in my great hall. i allow a double quantity of malt to my small beer, and set it running for twelve days to every one that calls for it. i have always a piece of cold beef and a mince-pie upon the table, and am wonderfully pleased to see my tenants pass away a whole evening in playing their innocent tricks, and smutting one another. our friend will wimble is as merry as any of them, and shows a thousand roguish tricks upon these occasions." puppet-shows and other scenic exhibitions with moving figures were among the christmas amusements in the reign of queen anne. strutt quotes a description of such an exhibition "by the manager of a show exhibited at the great house in the strand, over against the globe tavern, near hungerford market; the best places at one shilling and the others at sixpence each: 'to be seen, the greatest piece of curiosity that ever arrived in england, being made by a famous engineer from the camp before lisle, who, with great labour and industry, has collected into a moving picture the following figures: first, it doth represent the confederate camp, and the army lying intrenched before the town; secondly, the convoys and the mules with prince eugene's baggage; thirdly, the english forces commanded by the duke of marlborough; likewise, several vessels laden with provisions for the army, which are so artificially done as to seem to drive the water before them. the city and the citadel are very fine, with all its outworks, ravelins, horn-works, counter-scarps, half-moons, and palisades; the french horse marching out at one gate, and the confederate army marching in at the other; the prince's travelling coach with two generals in it, one saluting the company as it passes by; then a trumpeter sounds a call as he rides, at the noise whereof a sleeping sentinel starts, and lifts up his head, but, not being espied, lies down to sleep again; beside abundance more admirable curiosities too tedious to be inserted here.' he then modestly adds, 'in short, the whole piece is so contrived by art that it seems to be life and nature.'" [illustration: a druid priestess bearing mistletoe.] tumbling and feats of agility were also fashionable during the christmas festival at this period, for in one of the _tatlers_ (no. , dated january , ) the following passage occurs: "i went on friday last to the opera, and was surprised to find a thin house at so noble an entertainment, 'till i heard that the tumbler was not to make his appearance that night." the sword-dance--dancing "among the points of swords and spears with most wonderful agility, and even with the most elegant and graceful motions"--rope-dancing, feats of balancing, leaping and vaulting, tricks by horses and other animals, and bull-baiting and bear-baiting were also among the public amusements. and _hot cockles_ was one of the favourite indoor amusements of christmastide. strutt, in his "sports and pastimes," says, _hot cockles_ is from the french _hautes-coquilles_, "a play in which one kneels, and covering his eyes, lays his head in another's lap and guesses who struck him." john gay, a poet of the time, thus pleasantly writes of the game:-- "as at hot cockles once i laid me down, and felt the weighty hand of many a clown, buxoma gave a gentle tap, and i quick rose, and read soft mischief in her eye." [illustration] on the death of queen anne (august , ) prince george louis of hanover was proclaimed king of england as george the first. there was little change in the christmas festivities in this reign, for, as mr. thackeray says in his lively sketch of george i.: "he was a moderate ruler of england. his aim was to leave it to itself as much as possible, and to live out of it as much as he could. his heart was in hanover." the most important addition to the plays of the period was the christmas pantomime. [illustration: a nest of fools] in his "english plays," professor henry morley thus records the introduction of the modern english pantomime, which has since been the great show of christmastide:-- "the theatre in lincoln's inn fields, which christopher rich had been restoring, his son, john rich, was allowed to open on the th of december, . john rich was a clever mimic, and after a year or two he found it to his advantage to compete with the actors in a fashion of his own. he was the inventor of the modern english form of pantomime, with a serious part that he took from ovid's metamorphosis or any fabulous history, and a comic addition of the courtship of harlequin and columbine, with surprising tricks and transformations. he introduced the old italian characters of pantomime under changed conditions, and beginning with 'harlequin sorcerer' in , continued to produce these entertainments until a year before his death in . they have since been retained as christmas shows upon the english stage." in a note to "the dunciad," pope complains of "the extravagancies introduced on the stage, and frequented by persons of the first quality in england to the twentieth and thirtieth time," and states that "_all_ the extravagances" in the following lines of the poem actually appeared on the stage:-- "see now, what dulness and her sons admire! see what the charms, that smite the simple heart not touch'd by nature, and not reach'd by art. his never-blushing head he turn'd aside, (not half so pleased when goodman prophesied) and look'd, and saw a sable sorcerer rise, swift to whose hand a winged volume flies: all sudden, gorgons hiss, and dragons glare, and ten-horn'd fiends and giants rush to war. hell rises, heaven descends, and dance on earth: gods, imps, and monsters, music, rage, and mirth, a fire, a jig, a battle, and a ball, till one wide conflagration swallows all. thence a new world, to nature's laws unknown, breaks out refulgent, with a heaven its own: another cynthia her new journey runs, and other planets circle other suns. the forests dance, the rivers upward rise, whales sport in woods, and dolphins in the skies; and last, to give the whole creation grace, lo! one vast egg produces human race." david garrick, the eminent actor, wrote in a similar strain, finding it hard to hold his own against the patrons of the pantomime:-- "they in the drama find no joys, but doat on mimicry and toys. thus, when a dance is in my bill, nobility my boxes fill; or send three days before the time, to crowd a new-made pantomime." "old merry plentiful christmas," at this period, is sketched by a writer in _poor robin's almanack_, for , thus:--"now comes on old merry plentiful christmas. the husbandman lays his great log behind the fire, and with a few of his neighbours, over a good fire, taps his christmas beer, cuts his christmas cheese, and sets forward for a merry christmas. the landlord (for we hope there are yet some generous ones left) invites his tenants and labourers, and with a good sirloin of roast beef, and a few pitchers of nappy ale or beer, he wisheth them all a merry christmas. the beggar begs his bread, sells some of it for money to buy drink, and without fear of being arrested, or call'd upon for parish duties, has as merry a christmas as any of them all." [illustration: "the mask dance."] so the people made merry at christmas throughout the reign of george i., who died on june , , and was succeeded by his son, george the second. in this reign the customs of christmas were kept up with unabated heartiness, and liberality to the poor was not forgotten. the customary distributions of creature comforts on christmas eve were continued, and, in some instances, provision for the maintenance of them was made in the wills of worthy parishioners. an instance of this kind is recorded in devonshire. "it appears, from a statement of charities in an old book, that john martyn, by will, th of november, , gave to the churchwardens and overseers of the poor of the parish of st. mary major, exeter, twenty pounds, to be put out at interest, and the profits thereof to be laid out every christmas eve in twenty pieces of beef, to be distributed to twenty poor people of the parish, such as had no relief on that day, for ever."[ ] that christmas housekeeping in london, at this period, was excellent, both as to quantity and quality, is evident, from a contribution made to _read's weekly journal_, of saturday, january , , by mr. thomas north, who thus describes the christmas entertainment and good cheer he met with in london at the house of a friend: "it was the house of an eminent and worthy merchant, and tho', sir, i have been accustomed in my own country to what may very well be called good housekeeping, yet i assure you i should have taken this dinner to have been provided for a whole parish, rather than for about a dozen gentlemen: 'tis impossible for me to give you half our bill of fare, so you must be content to know that we had turkies, geese, capons, puddings of a dozen sorts more than i had ever seen in my life, besides brawn, roast beef, and many things of which i know not the names, minc'd pyes in abundance, and a thing they call plumb pottage, which may be good for ought i know, though it seems to me to have different tastes. our wines were of the best, as were all the rest of our liquors; in short, the god of plenty seemed to reign here, and to make everything perfect, our company was polite and every way agreeable; nothing but mirth and loyal healths went round. if a stranger were to have made an estimate of london from this place, he would imagine it not only the most rich but the most happy city in the world." another interesting item of this period is the following-- curious christmas advertisement, which has been cut from some publication and (by the late mr. joseph haslewood) inserted between pages and of the british museum large paper copy of brand's "antiquities," and dated december, :-- "this day is published, price d. "the trial of old father christmas for encouraging his majesty's subjects in idleness, drunkenness, gaming, rioting, and all manner of extravagance and debauchery, at the assizes held in the city of profusion before the lord chief justice churchman, mr. justice feast, mr. justice gambol, and several other his majesty's justices of oyer and terminer, and gaol-delivery. "to which is added a diary found in the pocket of old father christmas, with directions to all lovers of him how to welcome their neighbours; likewise the judge's sentence and opinion how christmas ought to be kept; and further witty tales and merry stories designed for christmas evenings diversion, when round about our coal fire. by josiah king, printer for t. cooper, at the globe in pater-noster row; and sold by the pamphlet-shops of london and westminster." now we come to a quaintly interesting account of christmas entertainment in the olden time. the manner of observing the christmas festival in the time of george the second is described in an amusing little book entitled "round about our coal fire, or christmas entertainments," published in , and "illustrated with many diverting cuts." we quote the following extracts:-- prologue. i. "o you merry, merry souls, christmas is a coming, we shall have flowing bowls, dancing, piping, drumming. ii. "delicate minced pies, to feast every virgin, capon and goose likewise, brawn and a dish of sturgeon. iii. "then for your christmas box, sweet plumb-cakes and money, delicate holland smocks, kisses sweet as honey. iv. "hey for the christmas ball, where we shall be jolly, jigging short and tall, kate, dick, ralph, and molly. v. "then to the hop we'll go, where we'll jig and caper, maidens all-a-row, will shall pay the scraper. vi. "hodge shall dance with prue, keeping time with kisses we'll have a jovial crew, of sweet smirking misses. [illustration: the christmas mummers.] "first acknowledging the sacredness of the holy time of _christmas_, i proceed to set forth the rejoicings which are generally made at that great festival. "you must understand, good people, that the manner of celebrating this great course of holydays is vastly different now to what it was in former days: there was once upon a time hospitality in the land; an _english_ gentleman at the opening of the great day, had all his tenants and neighbours enter'd his hall by day-break, the strong beer was broach'd, and the black jacks went plentifully about with toast, sugar, nutmeg, and good cheshire cheese; the rooms were embower'd with holly, ivy, cypress, bays, laurel, and missleto, and a bouncing _christmas_ log in the chimney glowing like the cheeks of a country milk-maid; then was the pewter as bright as _clarinda_, and every bit of brass as polished as the most refined gentleman; the servants were then running here and there, with merry hearts and jolly countenances; every one was busy welcoming of guests, and look'd as smug as new-lick'd puppies; the lasses as blithe and buxom as the maids in good queen _bess's_ days, when they eat sir-loins of roast beef for breakfast; _peg_ would scuttle about to make a toast for _john_, while _tom_ run _harum scarum_ to draw a jug of ale for _margery_: gaffer _spriggins_ was bid thrice welcome by the 'squire, and gooddy _goose_ did not fail of a smacking buss from his worship while his son and heir did the honours of the house: in a word, the spirit of generosity ran thro' the whole house. "in these times all the spits were sparkling, the _hackin_ must be boiled by day-break, or else two young men took the maiden by the arms, and run her round the market-place, till she was ashamed of her laziness. and what was worse than this, she must not play with the young fellows that day, but stand neuter, like a girl doing penance in a winding-sheet at a church-door. "but now let us enquire a little farther, to arrive at the sense of the thing; this great festival was in former times kept with so much freedom and openness of heart, that every one in the country where a gentleman resided, possessed at least a day of pleasure in the _christmas_ holydays; the tables were all spread from the first to the last, the sir-loyns of beef, the minc'd-pies, the plumb-porridge, the capons, turkeys, geese, and plumb-puddings, were all brought upon the board; and all those who had sharp stomachs and sharp knives eat heartily and were welcome, which gave rise to the proverb-- _merry in the hall, when beards wag all._" "there were then turnspits employed, who by the time dinner was over, would look as black and as greasy as a welch porridge-pot, but the jacks have since turned them all out of doors. the geese which used to be fatted for the honest neighbours, have been of late sent to _london_, and the quills made into pens to convey away the landlord's estate; the sheep are drove away to raise money to answer the loss of a game at dice or cards, and their skins made into parchment for deeds and indentures; nay even the poor innocent bee, who used to pay its tribute to the lord once a year at least in good metheglin, for the entertainment of the guests, and its wax converted into beneficial plaisters for sick neighbours, is now used for the sealing of deeds to his disadvantage. "but give me the man _who has a good heart_, and has spirit enough to keep up the old way of hospitality, feeds his people till they are as plump as partridges, and as fat as porpoises that every servant may appear as jolly as the late bishop of _winchester's_ porter at _chelsea_. "the news-papers however inform us, that the spirit of hospitality has not quite forsaken us; for three or four of them tell us, that several of the gentry are gone down to their respective seats in the country, in order to keep their _christmas_ in the old way, and entertain their tenants and trades-folks as their ancestors used to do and i wish them a merry _christmas_ accordingly. i must also take notice to the stingy tribe, that if they don't at least make their tenants or tradesmen drink when they come to see them in the christmas holydays, they have liberty of retaliating which is a law of very ancient date. "a merry gentleman of my acquaintance desires i will insert, that the old folks in days of yore kept open house at _christmas_ out of interest; for then, says he, they receive the greatest part of their rent in kind; such as wheat, barley or malt, oxen, calves, sheep, swine, turkeys, capon, geese, and such like; and they not having room enough to preserve their grain, or fodder enough to preserve their cattle or poultry, nor markets to sell off the overplus, they were obliged to use them in their own houses; and by treating the people of the country, gained credit amongst them, and riveted the minds and goodwill of their neighbours so firmly in them, that no one durst venture to oppose them. the 'squire's will was done whatever came on it; for if he happened to ask a neighbour what it was a clock, they returned with a low scrape, it is what your worship pleases. "the dancing and singing of the benchers in the great inns of court in _christmas_, is in some sort founded upon interest; for they hold, as i am informed, some priviledge by dancing about the fire in the middle of their hall, and singing the song of _round about our coal fire_, &c. "this time of year being cold and frosty generally speaking, or when jack-frost commonly takes us by the nose, the diversions are within doors, either in exercise or by the fire-side. "country-dancing is one of the chief exercises.... "then comes mumming or masquerading, when the 'squire's wardrobe is ransacked for dresses of all kinds, and the coal-hole searched around, or corks burnt to black the faces of the fair, or make deputy-mustaches, and every one in the family except the 'squire himself must be transformed from what they were.... "or else there is a match at _blind-man's-buff_, and then it is lawful to set anything in the way for folks to tumble over.... "as for _puss in the corner_, that is a very harmless sport, and one may romp at it as much as one will.... "the next game to this is _questions and commands_, when the commander may oblige his subject to answer any lawful question, and make the same obey him instantly, under the penalty of being smutted, or paying such forfeit as may be laid on the aggressor; but the forfeits being generally fixed at some certain price, as a shilling, half a crown, &c., so every one knowing what to do if they should be too stubborn to submit, make themselves easy at discretion. "as for the game of _hoop and hide_, the parties have the liberty of hiding where they will, in any part of the house; and if they happen to be caught, the dispute ends in kissing, &c. "most of the other diversions are cards and dice, but they are seldom set on foot, unless a lawyer is at hand, to breed some dispute for him to decide, or at least have some party in. "and now i come to another entertainment frequently used, which is of the story-telling order, _viz._ of hobgoblins, witches, conjurers, ghosts, fairies, and such like common disturbers." at this period david garrick's christmas acting won him great applause. at christmas, , he brought out at goodman's fields a christmas farce, written by himself, entitled "the lying valet," wherein the great actor took the part of "sharp." it was thought the most diverting farce ever performed. "there was a general roar from beginning to end. so great was his versatility that people were not able to determine whether he was best in tragedy or comedy." on his benefit, when his real name was placed on the bills for the first time, there was an immense gathering, and the applause was quite extraordinary. the christmas festivities of were marred by the disturbances of the jacobites, under the romantic "prince charlie," whose attempted invasion of england speedily collapsed. pointer, in his _oxoniensis academia_ ( ) refers to an old christmas custom of this period. he states that at merton college, oxford, the fellows meet together in the hall, on christmas eve, to sing a psalm and drink a grace-cup to one another (called _poculum charitatis_), wishing one another health and happiness. the christmas of was the first christmas under the "new style," and many refused to observe the festival eleven days earlier than usual, but insisted on keeping "old christmas day." why should they be robbed of eleven days by a new act of parliament? it was of no use to tell them that it had been discovered that the fractional few minutes which are tailed on to the days and hours which make up the year had, by neglect through many centuries, brought us into a wrong condition, and that to set us right it would be necessary to give credit for eleven days which nobody was conscious of having enjoyed. the law, however, had said that it should be so. accordingly, the day after the nd of september, , was called the th, to the great indignation of thousands, who reckoned that they had thus been cut off from nearly a fortnight of life which honestly belonged to them. these persons sturdily refused to acknowledge the christmas eve and day of the new calendar. they averred that the true festival was that which now began on the th of january _next year_. they would go to church, they said, on no other day; nor eat mince-pies nor drink punch but in reference to this one day. the clergy had a hard time of it with these recusants. it will be well, therefore, to quote one singular example to show how this recusancy was encountered. it is from a collection of pamphlet-sermons preserved by george iii., none of which, however, have anything curious or particularly meritorious about them save this one, which was preached on friday, january , , "old christmas day." mr. francis blackburne, "one of the candid disquisitors," opened his church on that day, which was crowded by a congregation anxious to see the day celebrated as that of the anniversary of the nativity. the service for christmas day, however, was not used. "i will answer your expectations so far," said the preacher in his sermon, "as to give you a _sermon on the day_; and the rather because i perceive you are disappointed of _something else_ that you expected." the purport of the discourse is to show that the change of style was desirable, and that it having been effected by act of parliament, with the sanction of the king, there was nothing for it but acquiescence. "for," says the preacher, "had i, to oblige you, disobeyed this act of parliament, it is very probable i might have lost my benefice, which, you know, is all the subsistence i have in the world; and i should have been rightly served; for who am i that i should fly in the face of his majesty and the parliament? these things are left to be ordered by the higher powers; and in any such case as that, i hope not to think myself wiser than the king, the whole nobility, and principal gentry of great britain"!! the peasants of buckinghamshire, however, pitched upon a very pretty method to settle the question of christmas, left so meekly by mr. blackburne to the king, nobility, and most of the gentry. they bethought themselves of a blackthorn near one of their villages; and this thorn was for the nonce declared to be the growth of a slip from the christmas-flowering thorn at glastonbury. if the buckinghamshire thorn, so argued the peasants, will only blossom in the night of the th of december, we will go to church next day, and allow that the christmas by act of parliament is the true christmas; but no blossom no feast, and there shall be no revel till the eve of old christmas day. they watched the thorn and drank to its budding; but as it produced no promise of a flower by the morning, they turned to go homewards as best they might, perfectly satisfied with the success of the experiment. some were interrupted in their way by their respective "vicars," who took them by the arm and would fain have persuaded them to go to church. they argued the question by field, stile, and church-gate; but not a bucks peasant would consent to enter a pew till the parson had promised to preach a sermon to, and smoke a pipe with, them on the only christmas day they chose to acknowledge. now, however, this old prejudice has been conquered, and the "new style" has maintained its ground. it has even done more, for its authors have so arranged the years and leap years that a confusion in the time of christmas or any other festival is not likely to occur again. [ ] cassell's "history of england." [ ] grose. [ ] herbert h. adams. [ ] "old english customs and charities," . [illustration] _chapter xi._ modern christmases at home. [illustration: the waits.] king george the third came to the throne on the death of his grandfather, george ii. (october , ), and the first christmas of his reign "was a high festival at court, when his majesty, preceded by heralds, pursuivants, &c., went with their usual state to the chapel royal, and heard a sermon preached by his grace the archbishop of york; and it being a collar day, the knights of the garter, thistle and bath, appeared in the collars of their respective orders. after the sermon was over, his majesty, prince edward and princess augusta went into the chapel royal, and received the sacrament from the hands of the bishop of durham; and the king offered the byzant, or wedge of gold, in a purse, for the benefit of the poor, and the royal family all made offerings. his majesty afterwards dined with his royal mother at leicester house, and in the evening returned to st. james's."[ ] at this period the favourite christmas diversion was card-playing. the king himself spent a great deal of his time in playing at cards with the ladies and gentlemen of his court. in doing so, however, he was but following the example of george ii., of whom the biographer already quoted (mr. huish) says:-- "after the death of queen caroline, the king was very fond of a game at cards with the countess of pembroke, albemarle, and other distinguished ladies. his attachment to cards was transferred to his attachment for the ladies, and it was said that what he gained by the one he lost by the other." cards were very much resorted to at the family parties and other social gatherings held during the twelve days of christmas. hone makes various allusions to card-playing at christmastide, and washington irving, in his "life of oliver goldsmith," pictures the poet "keeping the card-table in an uproar." mrs. bunbury invited goldsmith down to barton to pass the christmas holidays. irving regrets "that we have no record of this christmas visit to barton; that the poet had no boswell to follow at his heels, and take notes of all his sayings and doings. we can only picture him in our minds, casting off all care; enacting the lord of misrule; presiding at the christmas revels; providing all kinds of merriment; keeping the card-table in an uproar, and finally opening the ball on the first day of the year in his spring-velvet suit, with the jessamy bride for a partner." from the reprint additions made in the british museum large paper copy of brand's "antiquities," by the late mr. joseph haslewood, and dated january, , we quote the following verses descriptive of the concluding portion of the christmas festivities at this period:-- twelfth day. now the jovial girls and boys, struggling for the cake and plumbs, testify their eager joys, and lick their fingers and their thumbs. statesmen like, they struggle still, scarcely hands kept out of dishes, and yet, when they have had their fill, still anxious for the loaves and fishes. kings and queens, in petty state, now their sovereign will declare, but other sovereigns' plans they hate, full fond of peace--detesting war. one moral from this tale appears, worth notice when a world's at stake; that all our hopes and all our fears, are but a _struggling for the_ cake. other particulars of the popular christmas festivities in the latter part of the eighteenth century are gleaned from contemporary writers:-- "at ripon, on christmas eve, the grocers, send each of their customers a pound or half of currants and raisins to make a christmas pudding. the chandlers also send large mould candles, and the coopers logs of wood, generally called _yule clogs_, which are always used on christmas eve; but should it be so large as not to be all burnt that night, which is frequently the case, the remains are kept till old christmas eve."[ ] in sinclair's account of scotland, parish of kirkden, county of angus ( ), christmas is said to be held as a great festival in the neighbourhood. "the servant is free from his master, and goes about visiting his friends and acquaintance. the poorest must have beef or mutton on the table, and what they call a dinner with their friends. many amuse themselves with various diversions, particularly with shooting for prizes, called here _wad-shooting_; and many do but little business all the christmas week; the evening of almost every day being spent in amusement." and in the account of keith, in banffshire, the inhabitants are said to "have no pastimes or holidays, except dancing on christmas and new year's day." boyhood's christmas breaking-up is thus described in a poem entitled "christmas" (bristol, ):-- "a school there was, within a well-known town, (bridgwater call'd), in which the boys were wont, at _breaking-up_ for christmas' lov'd recess, to meet the master, on the happy morn, at early hour; the custom, too, prevail'd, that he who first the seminary reach'd should, instantly, perambulate the streets with sounding horn, to rouse his fellows up; and, as a compensation for his care, his flourish'd copies, and his chapter-task, before the rest, he from the master had. for many days, ere breaking-up commenced, much was the clamour, 'mongst the beardless crowd, who first would dare his well-warm'd bed forego, and, round the town, with horn of ox equipp'd, his schoolmates call. great emulation glow'd in all their breasts; but, when the morning came, straightway was heard, resounding through the streets, the pleasing blast (more welcome far, to them, than is, to sportsmen, the delightful cry of hounds on chase), which soon together brought a tribe of boys, who, thund'ring at the doors of those, their fellows, sunk in somnus' arms, great hubbub made, and much the town alarm'd. at length the gladsome, congregated throng, toward the school their willing progress bent, with loud huzzas, and, crowded round the desk, where sat the master busy at his books, in reg'lar order, each receiv'd his own, the youngsters then, enfranchised from the school, their fav'rite sports pursued." a writer in the _gentleman's magazine_ for february, , gives the following account of a christmas eve custom at the house of sir ---- holt, bart., of aston, near birmingham: "as soon as supper is over, a table is set in the hall. on it is placed a brown loaf, with twenty silver threepences stuck on the top of it, a tankard of ale, with pipes and tobacco; and the two oldest servants have chairs behind it, to sit as judges if they please. the steward brings the servants, both men and women, by one at a time, covered with a winnow-sheet, and lays their right hand on the loaf, exposing no other part of the body. the oldest of the two judges guesses at the person, by naming a name, then the younger judge, and lastly the oldest again. if they hit upon the right name, the steward leads the person back again; but, if they do not, he takes off the winnow-sheet, and the person receives a threepence, makes a low obeisance to the judges, but speaks not a word. when the second servant was brought, the younger judge guessed first and third; and this they did alternately, till all the money was given away. whatever servant had not slept in the house the preceding night forfeited his right to the money. no account is given of the origin of this strange custom, but it has been practised ever since the family lived there. when the money is gone, the servants have full liberty to drink, dance, sing, and go to bed when they please." brand quotes the foregoing paragraph and asks: "can this be what aubrey calls the sport of 'cob-loaf stealing'?" the delights of christmas. a new song by r. p. (tune--"since love is my plan.") _in the poor soldier._ when christmas approaches each bosom is gay, that festival banishes sorrow away, while richard he kisses both susan and dolly, when tricking the house up with ivy and holly; for never as yet it was counted a crime, to be merry and cherry at that happy time. for never as yet, &c. then comes turkey and chine, with the famous roast beef, of english provisions still reckon'd the chief; roger whispers the cook-maid his wishes to crown, o dolly! pray give me a bit of the brown; for never as yet it was counted a crime, to be merry and cherry at that happy time. for never as yet, &c. the luscious plum-pudding does smoking appear, and the charming mince pye is not far in the rear, then each licks his chops to behold such a sight, but to taste it affords him superior delight; for never as yet it was counted a crime, to be merry and cherry at that happy time. for never as yet, &c. now the humming october goes merrily round, and each with good humour is happily crown'd, the song and the dance, and the mirth-giving jest, alike without harm by each one is expressed; for never as yet it was counted a crime, to be merry and cherry at that happy time. for never as yet, &c. twelfth day next approaches, to give you delight, and the sugar'd rich cake is display'd to the sight, then sloven and slut and the king and the queen, alike must be present to add to the scene; for never as yet it was counted a crime, to be merry and cherry at that happy time. for never as yet, &c. may each be found thus as the year circles round, with mirth and good humour each christmas be crown'd, and may all who have plenty of riches in store with their bountiful blessings make happy the poor; for never as yet it was counted a crime, to be merry and cherry at that happy time. for never as yet, &c.[ ] charles lamb on christmas. in his essay on "recollections of christ's hospital," charles lamb thus refers to the christmas festivities of his schoolboy days:-- "let me have leave to remember the festivities at christmas, when the richest of us would club our stock to have a gaudy day, sitting round the fire, replenished to the height with logs, and the pennyless, and he that could contribute nothing, partook in all the mirth, and in some of the substantialities of the feasting; the carol sung by night at that time of the year, which, when a young boy, i have so often lain awake to hear from seven (the hour of going to bed) till ten when it was sung by the older boys and monitors, and have listened to it, in their rude chaunting, till i have been transported in fancy to the fields of bethlehem, and the song which was sung at that season, by angels' voices to the shepherds." in a sonnet sent to coleridge, in , lamb says:-- "it were unwisely done, should we refuse to cheer our path, as featly as we may-- our lonely path to cheer, as travellers use, with merry song, quaint tale, or roundelay. and we will sometimes talk past troubles o'er, of mercies shown, and all our sickness heal'd, and in his judgments god remembering love: and we will learn to praise god evermore, for those 'glad tidings of great joy,' reveal'd by that sooth messenger, sent from above." [illustration: the christmas plum-pudding. (_from an old print._)] writing to southey, in , lamb tells the poet that christmas is a "glorious theme"; and addressing his "dear old friend and absentee," mr. manning, at canton, on december , , lamb says:--"this is christmas day, , with us; what it may be with you i don't know, the th of june next year perhaps; and if it should be the consecrated season with you, i don't see how you can keep it. you have no turkeys; you would not desecrate the festival by offering up a withered chinese bantam, instead of the savoury grand norfolcian holocaust, that smokes all around my nostrils at this moment from a thousand firesides. then what puddings have you? where will you get holly to stick in your churches, or churches to stick your dried tea-leaves (that must be the substitute) in? come out of babylon, o my friend." [illustration: italian minstrels in london, at christmas, . (_from a sketch of that period._)] "ranged in a row, with guitars slung before them thus, they played and sung: their instruments and choral voice bid each glad guest still more rejoice; and each guest wish'd again to hear their wild guitars and voices clear."[ ] the christmas games at the beginning of the nineteenth century include the old christmas game of _forfeits_, for every breach of the rules of which the players have to deposit some little article as a forfeit, to be redeemed by some sportive penalty, imposed by the "crier of the forfeits" (usually a bonnie lassie). the "crying of the forfeits" and paying of the penalties creates much merriment, particularly when a bashful youth is sentenced to "kiss through the fire-tongs" some beautiful romp of a girl, who delights playing him tricks while the room rings with laughter. some of the old pastimes, however, have fallen into disuse, as, for instance, the once popular game of _hot cockles_, _hunt the slipper_, and "the vulgar game of _post and pair_"; but _cards_ are still popular, and snapdragon continues such christmas merriment as is set forth in the following verses:-- [illustration] snap dragon. "here he comes with flaming bowl, don't he mean to take his toll, snip! snap! dragon! take care you don't take too much, be not greedy in your clutch, snip! snap! dragon! with his blue and lapping tongue many of you will be stung, snip! snap! dragon! for he snaps at all that comes snatching at his feast of plums, snip! snap! dragon! but old christmas makes him come, though he looks so fee! fa! fum! snip! snap! dragon! don't 'ee fear him, be but bold-- out he goes, his flames are cold, snip! snap! dragon!" "don't 'ee fear him, be but bold," accords with the advice of a writer in "pantalogia," in , who says that when the brandy in the bowl is set on fire, and raisins thrown into it, those who are unused to the sport are afraid to take out, but the raisins may be safely snatched by a quick motion and put blazing into the mouth, which being closed, the fire is at once extinguished. the game requires both courage and rapidity of action, and a good deal of merriment is caused by the unsuccessful efforts of competitors for the raisins in the flaming bowl. blindman's buff. a favourite game of christmastide, is thus described by thomas miller, in his "sports and pastimes of merry england":-- "the very youngest of our brothers and sisters can join in this old english game: and it is selfish to select only such sports as they cannot become sharers of. its ancient name is 'hoodman-blind'; and when hoods were worn by both men and women--centuries before hats and caps were so common as they are now--the hood was reversed, placed hind-before, and was, no doubt, a much surer way of blinding the player than that now adopted--for we have seen charley try to catch his pretty cousin caroline, by chasing her behind chairs and into all sorts of corners, to our strong conviction that he was not half so well blinded as he ought to have been. some said he could see through the black silk handkerchief; others that it ought to have been tied clean over his nose, for that when he looked down he could see her feet, wherever she moved; and charley had often been heard to say that she had the prettiest foot and ankle he had ever seen. but there he goes, head over heels across a chair, tearing off caroline's gown skirt in his fall, as he clutches it in the hope of saving himself. now, that is what i call retributive justice; for she threw down the chair for him to stumble over, and, if he has grazed his knees, she suffers under a torn dress, and must retire until one of the maids darn up the rent. but now the mirth and glee grow 'fast and furious,' for hoodman blind has imprisoned three or four of the youngest boys in a corner, and can place his hand on whichever he likes. into what a small compass they have forced themselves! but the one behind has the wall at his back, and, taking advantage of so good a purchase, he sends his three laughing companions sprawling on the floor, and is himself caught through their having fallen, as his shoulder is the first that is grasped by blindman-buff--so that he must now submit to be hooded." [illustration: blindman's buff. (_in the last century_.)] the christmas dance. "again the ball-room is wide open thrown, the oak beams festooned with the garlands gay; the red dais where the fiddlers sit alone, where, flushed with pride, the good old tunes they play. strike, fiddlers, strike! we're ready for the set; the young folks' feet are eager for the dance; we'll trip sir roger and the minuet, and revel in the latest games from france."[ ] "man should be called a dancing animal," said _old florentine_; and burton, in his "anatomy of melancholy," says, "young lasses are never better pleased than when, upon a holiday, after _even-song_, they may meet their sweethearts and dance." and dancing is just as popular at christmas in the present day, as it was in that mediæval age when (according to william of malmesbury) the priest rathbertus, being disturbed at his christmas mass by young men and women dancing outside the church, prayed god and st. magnus that they might continue to dance for a whole year without cessation--a prayer which the old chronicler gravely assures us was answered. [illustration: the christmas dance.] christmas eve in the olden time. and well our christian sires of old loved when the year its course had roll'd, and brought blithe christmas back again, with all his hospitable train. domestic and religious rite gave honour to the holy night: on christmas eve the bells were rung; on christmas eve the mass was sung: that only night in all the year, saw the stoled priest the chalice rear. the damsel donn'd her kirtle sheen; the hall was dress'd with holly green; forth to the wood did merry-men go, to gather in the mistletoe. then open'd wide the baron's hall to vassal, tenant, serf, and all; power laid his rod of rule aside, and ceremony doffed his pride. the heir, with roses in his shoes, that night might village partner choose. the lord, underogating, share the vulgar game of "post and pair." all hail'd, with uncontroll'd delight, and general voice, the happy night that to the cottage, as the crown, brought tidings of salvation down! the fire, with well-dried logs supplied, went roaring up the chimney wide; the huge hall-table's oaken face, scrubb'd till it shone, the day to grace bore then upon its massive board no mark to part the squire and lord. then was brought in the lusty brawn by old blue-coated serving man; then the grim boar's-head frowned on high, crested with bays and rosemary. well can the green-garbed ranger tell how, when, and where the monster fell; what dogs before his death he tore, and all the baiting of the boar. the wassail round in good brown bowls, garnish'd with ribbons, blithely trowls. there the huge sirloin reek'd; hard by plum-porridge stood, and christmas-pye; nor fail'd old scotland to produce, at such high tide, her savoury goose. then came the merry masquers in, and carols roar'd with blithesome din if unmelodious was the song, it was a hearty note, and strong. who lists may in their mumming see traces of ancient mystery; white shirts supplied the masquerade, and smutted cheeks the visors made; but oh! what masquers, richly dight, can boast of bosoms half so light! england was merry england when old christmas brought his sports again. 'twas christmas broached the mightiest ale, 'twas christmas told the merriest tale; a christmas gambol oft could cheer the poor man's heart through half the year. sir walter scott, . lyson's "magna britannia" ( ) states the following as an old english custom. "at cumnor the parishioners, who paid vicarial tithes, claimed a custom of being entertained at the vicarage on the afternoon of christmas day, with four bushels of malt brewed into ale and beer, two bushels of wheat made into bread, and half a hundred weight of cheese. the remainder was given to the poor the next morning after divine service." mason ("statistical account of ireland," ) records the following irish christmas customs:-- "at culdaff, previous to christmas, it is customary with the labouring classes to raffle for mutton, when a sufficient number can subscribe to defray the cost of a sheep. during the christmas holidays they amuse themselves with a game of kamman, which consists in impelling a wooden ball with a crooked stick to a given point, while an adversary endeavours to drive it in a contrary direction." yorkshire. a writer in "time's telescope" ( ) states that in yorkshire at eight o'clock on christmas eve the bells greet "old father christmas" with a merry peal, the children parade the streets with drums, trumpets, bells, or perhaps, in their absence, with the poker and shovel, taken from their humble cottage fire; the yule candle is lighted, and-- "high on the cheerful fire is blazing seen th' enormous christmas brand." supper is served, of which one dish, from the lordly mansion to the humblest shed, is invariably furmety; yule cake, one of which is always made for each individual in the family, and other more substantial viands are also added. some social festivities of christmastide are sketched by a contributor to the _new monthly magazine_, december , , who says:-- "on the north side of the church at m. are a great many holly-trees. it is from these that our dining and bed-rooms are furnished with boughs. families take it by turns to entertain their friends. they meet early; the beef and pudding are noble; the mince-pies--peculiar; the nuts half play-things and half-eatables; the oranges as cold and acid as they ought to be, furnishing us with a superfluity which we can afford to laugh at; the cakes indestructible; the wassail bowls generous, old english, huge, demanding ladles, threatening overflow as they come in, solid with roasted apples when set down. towards bed-time you hear of elder-wine, and not seldom of punch. at the manorhouse it is pretty much the same as elsewhere. girls, although they be ladies, are kissed under the mistletoe. if any family among us happen to have hit upon an exquisite brewing, they send some of it round about, the squire's house included; and he does the same by the rest. riddles, hot-cockles, forfeits, music, dances sudden and not to be suppressed, prevail among great and small; and from two o'clock in the day to midnight, m. looks like a deserted place out of doors, but is full of life and merriment within. playing at knights and ladies last year, a jade of a charming creature must needs send me out for a piece of ice to put in her wine. it was evening and a hard frost. i shall never forget the cold, cutting, dreary, dead look of every thing out of doors, with a wind through the wiry trees, and the snow on the ground, contrasted with the sudden return to warmth, light, and joviality. "i remember we had a discussion that time as to what was the great point and crowning glory of christmas. many were for mince-pie; some for the beef and plum-pudding; more for the wassail-bowl; a maiden lady timidly said the mistletoe; but we agreed at last, that although all these were prodigious, and some of them exclusively belonging to the season, the _fire_ was the great indispensable. upon which we all turned our faces towards it, and began warming our already scorched hands. a great blazing fire, too big, is the visible heart and soul of christmas. you may do without beef and plum-pudding; even the absence of mince-pie may be tolerated; there must be a bowl, poetically speaking, but it need not be absolutely wassail. the bowl may give place to the bottle. but a huge, heaped-up, _over_ heaped-up, all-attracting fire, with a semicircle of faces about it, is not to be denied us. it is the _lar_ and genius of the meeting; the proof positive of the season; the representative of all our warm emotions and bright thoughts; the glorious eye of the room; the inciter to mirth, yet the retainer of order; the amalgamater of the age and sex; the universal relish. tastes may differ even on a mince-pie; but who gainsays a fire? the absence of other luxuries still leaves you in possession of that; but 'who can hold a fire in his hand with thinking on the frostiest twelfth-cake?' "let me have a dinner of some sort, no matter what, and then give me my fire, and my friends, the humblest glass of wine, and a few penn'orths of chestnuts, and i will still make out my christmas. what! have we not burgundy in our blood? have we not joke, laughter, repartee, bright eyes, comedies of other people, and comedies of our own; songs, memories, hopes? [an organ strikes up in the street at this word, as if to answer me in the affirmative. right thou old spirit of harmony, wandering about in that ark of thine, and touching the public ear with sweetness and an abstraction! let the multitude bustle on, but not unarrested by thee and by others, and not unreminded of the happiness of renewing a wise childhood.] as to our old friends the chestnuts, if anybody wants an excuse to his dignity for roasting them, let him take the authority of milton. 'who now,' says he lamenting the loss of his friend deodati,--'who now will help to soothe my cares for me, and make the long night seem short with his conversation; while the roasting pear hisses tenderly on the fire, and the nuts burst away with a noise,-- 'and out of doors a washing storm o'erwhelms nature pitch-dark, and rides the thundering elms?'" [illustration] christmas in the highlands. [illustration] from grant's "popular superstitions of the highlands" hone gathered the following account:-- "as soon as the brightening glow of the eastern sky warns the anxious house-maid of the approach of christmas day, she rises full of anxiety at the prospect of her morning labours. the meal, which was steeped in the _sowans-bowie_ a fortnight ago, to make the _prechdachdan sour_, or _sour scones_, is the first object of her attention. the gridiron is put on the fire, and the sour scones are soon followed by hard cakes, soft cakes, buttered cakes, brandered bannocks, and pannich perm. the baking being once over, the sowans pot succeeds the gridiron, full of new sowans, which are to be given to the family, agreeably to custom, this day in their beds. the sowans are boiled into the consistence of molasses, when the _lagan-le-vrich_, or yeast bread, to distinguish it from boiled sowans, is ready. it is then poured into as many bickers as there are individuals to partake of it, and presently served to the whole, old and young. it would suit well the pen of a burns, or the pencil of a hogarth, to paint the scene which follows. the ambrosial food is despatched in aspiring draughts by the family, who soon give evident proofs of the enlivening effects of the _lagan-le-vrich_. as soon as each despatches his bicker, he jumps out of bed--the elder branches to examine the ominous signs of the day,[ ] and the younger to enter on its amusements. flocking to the swing, a favourite amusement on this occasion, the youngest of the family get the first '_shoulder_,' and the next oldest in regular succession. in order to add the more to the spirit of the exercise, it is a common practice with the person in the _swing_, and the person appointed to swing him, to enter into a very warm and humorous altercation. as the swinged person approaches the swinger, he exclaims, _ei mi tu chal_, 'i'll eat your kail.' to this the swinger replies, with a violent shove, _cha ni u mu chal_, 'you shan't eat my kail.' these threats and repulses are sometimes carried to such a height, as to break down or capsize the threatener, which generally puts an end to the quarrel. "as the day advances, those minor amusements are terminated at the report of the gun, or the rattle of the ball clubs--the gun inviting the marksman to the '_kiavamuchd_,' or prize-shooting, and the latter to '_luchd-vouil_,' or the ball combatants--both the principal sports of the day. tired at length of the active amusements of the field, they exchange them for the substantial entertainments of the table. groaning under the '_sonsy haggis_,'[ ] and many other savoury dainties, unseen for twelve months before, the relish communicated to the company, by the appearance of the festive board, is more easily conceived than described. the dinner once despatched, the flowing bowl succeeds, and the sparkling glass flies to and fro like a weaver's shuttle. as it continues its rounds, the spirits of the company become more jovial and happy. animated by its cheering influence, even old decrepitude no longer feels his habitual pains--the fire of youth is in his eye, as he details to the company the exploits which distinguished him in the days of '_auld langsyne_;' while the young, with hearts inflamed with '_love and glory_,' long to mingle in the more lively scenes of mirth, to display their prowess and agility. leaving the patriarchs to finish those professions of friendship for each other, in which they are so devoutly engaged, the younger part of the company will shape their course to the ball-room, or the card-table, as their individual inclinations suggest; and the remainder of the evening is spent with the greatest pleasure of which human nature is susceptible." sword dancing at christmas. hone's "table book" (vol. i.), , contains a letter descriptive of the pitmen of northumberland, which says:-- "the ancient custom of sword-dancing at christmas is kept up in northumberland exclusively by these people. they may be constantly seen at that festive season with their fiddler, bands of swordsmen, tommy and bessy, most grotesquely dressed, performing their annual routine of warlike evolutions." and the present writer heard of similar festivities at christmastide in the madeley district of shropshire, accompanied by grotesque imitations of the ancient hobby-horse. [illustration] cumberland. "a. w. r.," writing to hone's "year book," december , , says:-- "nowhere does the christmas season produce more heart-inspiring mirth than among the inhabitants of cumberland. "with christmas eve commences a regular series of 'festivities and merry makings.' night after night, if you want the farmer or his family, you must look for them anywhere but at home; and in the different houses that you pass at one, two, or three in the morning, should you happen to be out so late, you will find candles and fires still unextinguished. at christmas, every farmer gives two 'feasts,' one called 't' ould foaks neet,' which is for those who are married, and the other 't' young foaks neet,' for those who are single. suppose you and i, sir, take the liberty of attending one of these feasts unasked (which by the bye is considered no liberty at all in cumberland) and see what is going on. upon entering the room we behold several card parties, some at 'whist,' others at 'loo' (there called 'lant'), or any other game that may suit their fancy. you will be surprised on looking over the company to find that there is no distinction of persons. masters and servants, rich and poor, humble and lofty, all mingle together without restraint--all cares are forgotten--and each one seems to glory in his own enjoyment and in that of his fellow-creatures. it is pleasant to find ourselves in such society, especially as it is rarely in one's life that such opportunities offer. cast your eyes towards the sideboard, and there see that large bowl of punch, which the good wife is inviting her guests to partake of, with apples, oranges, biscuits, and other agreeable eatables in plenty. the hospitable master welcomes us with a smiling countenance and requests us to take seats and join one of the tables. "in due time some one enters to tell the company that supper is waiting in the next room. thither we adjourn, and find the raised and mince pies, all sorts of tarts, and all cold--except the welcomes and entreaties--with cream, ale, &c., in abundance; in the midst of all a large goose pie, which seems to say 'come and cut again.' "after supper the party return to the card room, sit there for two or three hours longer, and afterwards make the best of their way home, to take a good long nap, and prepare for the same scene the next night. at these 'feasts' intoxication is entirely out of the question--it never happens. "such are the innocent amusements of these people." "with gentle deeds and kindly thoughts, and loving words withal, welcome the merry christmas in and hear a brother's call."[ ] provision for the poor on christmas day. [illustration: the giving away of christmas doles.] by the will of john popple, dated the th of march, , £ yearly is to be paid unto the vicar, churchwardens, and overseers of the poor of the parish of burnham, buckinghamshire, to provide for the poor people who should be residing in the poorhouse, a dinner, with a proper quantity of good ale and likewise with tobacco and snuff on christmas day.[ ] this kindly provision of mr. popple for the poor shows that he wished to keep up the good old christmas customs which are so much admired by the "old man" in southey's "the old mansion" (a poem of this period). in recalling the good doings at the mansion "in my lady's time" the "old man" says:-- "a woful day 'twas for the poor when to her grave she went! * * * * * were they sick? she had rare cordial waters, and for herbs she could have taught the doctors. then at winter, when weekly she distributed the bread in the poor old porch, to see her and to hear the blessings on her! and i warrant them they were a blessing to her when her wealth had been no comfort else. at christmas, sir! it would have warmed your heart if you had seen her christmas kitchen; how the blazing fire made her fine pewter shine, and holly boughs so cheerful red; and as for mistletoe, the finest bough that grew in the country round was mark'd for madam. then her old ale went so bountiful about! a christmas cask,-- and 'twas a noble one!--god help me, sir! but i shall never see such days again." [illustration] the royal christmases in the reigns of george iv. and william iv., though not kept with the grandeur of earlier reigns, were observed with much rejoicing and festivity, and the royal bounties to the poor of the metropolis and the country districts surrounding windsor and the other royal palaces were dispensed with the customary generosity. in his "sketch book," washington irving, who was born in the reign of george iii. ( ), and lived on through the reigns of george iv., and william iv., and the first two decades of the reign of queen victoria, gives delightful descriptions of the festivities of the nobility and gentry of the period, recalling the times when the old halls of castles and manor houses resounded with the harp and the christmas carol and their ample boards groaned under the weight of hospitality. he had travelled a good deal on both sides of the atlantic and he gives a picturesque account of an old english stage coach journey "on the day preceding christmas." the coach was crowded with passengers. "it was also loaded with hampers of game, and baskets and boxes of delicacies; and hares hung dangling their long ears about the coachman's box, presents from distant friends for the impending feast. i had three fine rosy-cheeked schoolboys for my fellow-passengers inside, full of the buxom health and manly spirit which i have observed in the children of this country. they were returning home for the holidays in high glee, and promising themselves a world of enjoyment. it was delightful to hear the gigantic plans of the little rogues, and the impracticable feats they were to perform during their six weeks' emancipation from the abhorred thraldom of book, birch, and pedagogue." then follows irving's graphic sketch of the english stage coachman, and the incidents of the journey, during which it seemed "as if everybody was in good looks and good spirits. "game, poultry, and other luxuries of the table, were in brisk circulation in the villages; the grocers,' butchers,' and fruiterers' shops were thronged with customers. the house-wives were stirring briskly about, putting their dwellings in order; and the glossy branches of holly, with their bright red berries, began to appear at the windows." * * * * * "in the evening we reached a village where i had determined to pass the night. as we drove into the great gateway of the inn, i saw on one side the light of a rousing kitchen fire beaming through a window. i entered, and admired, for the hundredth time, that picture of convenience, neatness, and broad, honest enjoyment, the kitchen of an english inn. it was of spacious dimensions, hung round with copper and tin vessels highly polished, and decorated here and there with a christmas green.... the scene completely realised poor robin's [ ] humble idea of the comforts of mid-winter: 'now trees their leafy hats do bare to reverence winter's silver hair; a handsome hostess, merry host, a pot of ale now and a toast, tobacco and a good coal fire, are things this season doth require.'" mr. irving afterwards depicts, in his own graphic style, the christmas festivities observed at an old-fashioned english hall, and tells how the generous squire pointed with pleasure to the indications of good cheer reeking from the chimneys of the comfortable farmhouses, and low thatched cottages. "i love," said he, "to see this day well kept by rich and poor; it is a great thing to have one day in the year, at least, when you are sure of being welcome wherever you go, and of having, as it were, the world all thrown open to you; and i am almost disposed to join with poor robin, in his malediction on every churlish enemy to this honest festival: "'those who at christmas do repine, and would fain hence despatch him, may they with old duke humphry dine, or else may squire ketch catch 'em.' "the squire went on to lament the deplorable decay of the games and amusements which were once prevalent at this season among the lower orders, and countenanced by the higher; when the old halls of castles and manor-houses were thrown open at daylight; when the tables were covered with brawn, and beef, and humming ale; when the harp and the carol resounded all day long, and when rich and poor were alike welcome to enter and make merry. 'our old games and local customs,' said he, 'had a great effect in making the peasant fond of his home, and the promotion of them by the gentry made him fond of his lord. they made the times merrier, and kinder and better; and i can truly say with one of our old poets: "'i like them well--the curious preciseness and all-pretended gravity of those that seek to banish hence these harmless sports, have thrust away much ancient honesty.'" [illustration] the christmases of queen victoria have been kept with much bountifulness, but after the gracious manner of a christian queen who cares more for the welfare of her beloved subjects than for ostentatious display. her majesty's royal bounties to the poor of the metropolis and its environs, and also to others in the country districts surrounding the several royal palaces are well known, the ancient christmas and new year's gifts being dispensed with great generosity. the number of aged and afflicted persons usually relieved by the lord high almoner in sums of s. and s. exceeds an aggregate of , . then there is the distribution of the beef--a most interesting feature of the royal bounty--which takes place in the riding school at windsor castle, under the superintendence of the several court officials. the meat, divided into portions of from three pounds to seven pounds, and decorated with sprigs of holly, is arranged upon a table placed in the middle of the riding school, and covered with white cloths from the lord steward's department of the palace. during the distribution the bells of st. john's church ring a merry peal. there are usually many hundreds of recipients and the weight of the beef allotted amounts to many thousands of pounds. coals and clothing and other creature comforts are liberally dispensed, according to the needs of the poor. in times of war and seasons of distress hospitable entertainments, christmas-trees, &c., are also provided for the wives and children of soldiers and sailors on active service; and in many other ways the royal bounty is extended to the poor and needy at christmastide. the christmas at windsor castle, in , is thus referred to in the "life of the prince consort" (by theodore martin):-- "when christmas came round with its pleasant festivities and its shining christmas-trees, it had within it a new source of delight for the royal parents. 'to think,' says the queen's 'journal,' 'that we have two children now, and one who enjoys the sight already, is like a dream!' and in writing to his father the prince expresses the same feeling. 'this,' he says, 'is the dear christmas eve, on which i have so often listened with impatience for your step, which was to usher us into the present-room. to-day i have two children of my own to give presents to, who, they know not why, are full of happy wonder at the german christmas-tree and its radiant candles.' "the coming year was danced into in good old english fashion. in the middle of the dance, as the clock finished striking twelve, a flourish of trumpets was blown, in accordance with a german custom. this, the queen's 'journal' records, 'had a fine solemn effect, and quite affected dear albert, who turned pale, and had tears in his eyes, and pressed my hand very warmly. it touched me too, for i felt that he must think of his dear native country, which he has left for me.'" christmas at osborne. writing from cowes, on christmas eve, in reference to the christmas festivities at osborne in the last decade of the nineteenth century, a correspondent says:-- "after transacting business the queen drove out this afternoon, returning to osborne just as the setting sun illumines with its rosy rays the paladin towers of her majesty's marine residence. the queen desires to live, as far as the cares of state permit, the life of a private lady. her majesty loves the seclusion of this lordly estate, and here at christmas time she enjoys the society of her children and grandchildren, who meet together as less exalted families do at this merry season to reciprocate the same homely delights as those which are experienced throughout the land. "this afternoon a pleasant little festivity has been celebrated at osborne house, where her majesty, with an ever-kindly interest in her servants and dependants, has for many years inaugurated christmas in a similar way, the children of her tenantry and the old and infirm enjoying by the royal bounty the first taste of christmas fare. the osborne estate now comprises , acres, and it includes the prince consort's model farm. the children of the labourers--who are housed in excellent cottages--attend the whippingham national schools, a pretty block of buildings, distant one mile from osborne. about half the number of scholars live upon the queen's estate, and, in accordance with annual custom, the mistresses of the schools, the misses thomas, accompanied by the staff of teachers, have conducted a little band of boys and girls--fifty-four in all--to the house, there to take tea and to receive the customary christmas gifts. until very recently the queen herself presided at the distribution; but the princess beatrice has lately relieved her mother of the fatigue involved; for the ceremony is no mere formality, it is made the occasion of many a kindly word the remembrance of which far outlasts the gifts. all sorts of rumours are current on the estate for weeks before this christmas eve gathering as to the nature of the presents to be bestowed, for no one is supposed to know beforehand what they will be; but there was a pretty shrewd guess to-day that the boys would be given gloves, and the girls cloaks. in some cases the former had had scarves or cloth for suits, and the latter dresses or shawls. whatever the christmas presents may be, here they are, arranged upon tables in two long lines, in the servants' hall. to this holly-decorated apartment the expectant youngsters are brought, and their delighted gaze falls upon a huge christmas-tree laden with beautiful toys. everybody knows that the tree will be there, and moreover that its summit will be crowned with a splendid doll. now, the ultimate ownership of this doll is a matter of much concern; it needs deliberation, as it is awarded to the best child, and the judges are the children themselves. the trophy is handed to the keeping of miss thomas, and on the next st of may the children select by their votes the most popular girl in the school to be elected may queen. to her the gift goes, and no fairer way could be devised. the princess beatrice always makes a point of knowing to whom the prize has been awarded. her royal highness is so constantly a visitor to the cottagers and to the school that she has many an inquiry to make of the little ones as they come forward to receive their gifts. "the girls are called up first by the mistress, and mr. andrew blake, the steward, introduces each child to the princess beatrice, to whom mr. blake hands the presents that her royal highness may bestow them upon the recipients with a word of good will, which makes the day memorable. then the boys are summoned to participate in the distribution of good things, which, it should be explained, consist not only of seasonable and sensible clothing, but toys from the tree, presented by the queen's grandchildren, who, with their parents, grace the ceremony with their presence and make the occasion one of family interest. the ladies-in-waiting also attend. each boy and girl gets in addition a nicely-bound story-book and a large slice of plum pudding neatly packed in paper, and if any little one is sick at home its portion is carefully reserved. but the hospitality of the queen is not limited to the children. on alternate years the old men and women resident on the estate are given, under the same pleasant auspices, presents of blankets or clothing. to-day it was the turn of the men, and they received tweed for suits. the aged people have their pudding as well. for the farm labourers and boys, who are not bidden to this entertainment, there is a distribution of tickets, each representing a goodly joint of beef for the christmas dinner. the festivity this afternoon was brought to a close by the children singing the national anthem in the courtyard. "the queen is accustomed to spend christmas day very quietly, attending service at the chapel at osborne in the morning, and in the evening the royal family meeting at dinner. there are christmas trees for the children, and for the servants too, but the houshold reserves its principal festivity for the new year--a day which is specially set aside for their entertainment." the christmas festivities at sandringham are observed with generous hospitality by their royal highnesses the prince and princess of wales, who take special interest in the enjoyment of their tenants, and also remember the poor. a time-honoured custom on christmas eve is the distribution of prime joints of meat to the labourers employed on the royal estate, and to the poor of the five parishes of sandringham, west newton, babingley, dersingham, and wolferton. from twelve to fifteen hundred pounds of meat are usually distributed, and such other gifts are made as the inclemency of the season and the necessities of the poor require. in sandringham "past and present," , mrs. herbert jones says:--"sandringham, which is the centre of a generous hospitality, has not only been in every way raised, benefited, and enriched since it passed into the royal hands, which may be said to have created it afresh, but rests under the happy glow shed over it by the preference of a princess "'whose peerless feature joinèd with her birth, approve her fit for none but for a king.' shakespeare's _henry vi_." the christmas generosity of the late duke of edinburgh. in a letter to the press a lieutenant of marines makes the following reference to a christmas entertainment given by h.r.h. the duke of edinburgh, in : "last night a large party, consisting of many officers of the fleet, including all the 'old ships' of the duke, and three or four midshipmen from every ship in the fleet, were invited to a christmas-tree at s. antonio palace. in the course of the evening two lotteries were drawn, all the numbers being prizes, each guest consequently getting two. i have had an opportunity of seeing many of these, and they are all most beautiful and useful objects, ranging in value from five shillings to perhaps three or four pounds. i should think that at least half the prizes i have seen were worth over one pound." other seasonable hospitality and benevolence. the good example set by royalty is followed throughout the land. friendly hospitalities are general at christmastide, and in london and other large centres of population many thousands of poor people are provided with free breakfasts, dinners, teas, and suppers on christmas day, public halls and school-rooms being utilised for purposes of entertainment; children in hospitals are plentifully supplied with toys, and christmas parties are also given to the poor at the private residences of benevolent people. as an illustrative instance of generous christmas hospitality by a landowner we cite the following:-- christmas dinner to five thousand poor. on christmas eve, , sir watkin williams wynn, bart., the largest landowner in the principality of wales, gave his annual christmas gifts to the aged and deserving poor throughout the extensive mining districts of ruabon, rhosllanerchrugog, cern, and rhosymedre, denbighshire, where much distress prevailed in consequence of the depression in trade. several fine oxen were slain in wynnstay park, and the beef was distributed in pieces ranging from lb. to lb., according to the number of members in each family. a christmas dinner was thus provided for upwards of , persons. in addition to this, lady williams wynn provided thousands of yards of flannel and cloth for clothing, together with a large number of blankets, the aged men and women also receiving a shilling with the gift. the hon. baronet had also erected an elaborate spacious hospital to the memory of his uncle, the late sir watkin williams wynn, m.p., and presented it to the parish. distributions of christmas fare to the poor are liberally made from various centres in different parts of london, and thus many thousands of those who have fallen below the poverty line share in the festivities of christmastide. this illustration of christian caterers dispensing creature comforts to the poor children may be taken as representative of many such christmas scenes in the metropolis. for over forty years the st. giles' christian mission, now under the superintendence of mr. w. m. wheatley, has been exercising a beneficial influence among the needy poor, and, it is stated, that at least , people have through this mission been enabled to make a fresh start in life. many other church missions are doing similar work. in addition to treats to poor children and aged people at christmastide, there are also great distributions of christmas fare:--joints of roasting meat, plum-puddings, cakes, groceries, warm clothing, toys, &c., &c. [illustration: poor children's treat in modern times.] at a recent distribution of a christmas charity at millbrook, southampton, the rev. a. c. blunt stated that one of the recipients had nearly reached her nd year. she was born in hampshire, and down to a very recent period had been able to do needlework. in many cities and towns christmas gifts are distributed on st. thomas's day, and as an example we cite the brighton distribution in , on which occasion the brighton police court was filled by a congregation of some of the "oldest inhabitants." and there was a distribution from the magistrates poor-box of a christmas gift of half a sovereign to of the aged poor whose claims to the bounty had been inquired into by the police. formerly used to be cheered in this way, but the contributions to the box this year enabled a wider circle to share in the dole. there was a wonderful collection of old people, for the average age was over years. the oldest was a venerable widow, who confessed to being years old, the next was another lady of years, and then came two old fellows who had each attained years. many of the recipients were too infirm to appear, but the oldest of them all, the lady of came into court despite the sharpness of the wind and the frozen roads. the christmas at belvoir castle, kept with generous liberality by the duke of rutland, in , may be cited as an example of christmas customs continued by the head of a noble house: "the usual christmas gifts were given to the poor of knipton, woolsthorpe, and redmile--nearly two hundred in number--consisting of calico, flannel dresses, stockings, and handkerchiefs, each person at the same time receiving a loaf of bread and a pint of ale. twenty-one bales of goods, containing counterpanes, blankets, and sheets, were also sent to the clergy of as many different villages for distribution amongst the poor. the servants at the castle and workmen of the establishment had their christmas dinner, tea, and supper, the servants' hall having been beautifully decorated. at one end of the room was a coronet, with the letter 'r'; and at the opposite end three coronets, with the 'peacock in pride,' being the crest of the rutland family. the following mottoes, in large letters, were conspicuous, 'long live the duke of rutland,' 'long live lord and lady john manners and family,' and 'a merry christmas to you all.' these were enclosed in a neat border. from the top of the room were suspended long festoons of linked ribbons of red, white, blue, and orange. all present thoroughly enjoyed themselves, as it was the wish of his grace they should do." similar hospitalities are dispensed by other noblemen and gentlemen in different parts of the country at christmas. * * * * * the lordly hospitality of lincolnshire is depicted in "the baron's yule feast: a christmas rhyme; by thomas cooper, the chartist" ( ); which is inscribed to the countess of blessington, and in the advertisement the author offers "but one apology for the production of a metrical essay, composed chiefly of imperfect and immature pieces: the ambition to contribute towards the fund of christmas entertainment." the scene of the baron's yule feast is depicted in torksey's hall, torksey being one of the first towns in lincolnshire in the saxon period. after some introductory verses the writer says: "it is the season when our sires kept jocund holiday; and, now, around our charier fires, old yule shall have a lay:-- a prison-bard is once more free; and, ere he yields his voice to thee, his song a merry-song shall be! sir wilfrid de thorold freely holds what his stout sires held before-- broad lands for plough and fruitful folds,-- though by gold he sets no store; and he saith, from fen and woodland wolds from marish, heath, and moor,-- to feast in his hall both free and thrall, shall come as they came of yore. * * * * * now merrily ring the lady-bells of the nunnery by the fosse:-- say the hinds their silver music swells 'like the blessed angels' syllables, at his birth who bore the cross.' and solemnly swells saint leonard's chime and the great bell loud and deep:-- say the gossips, 'let's talk of the holy time when the shepherds watched their sheep; and the babe was born for all souls' crime in the weakness of flesh to weep.'-- but, anon, shrills the pipe of the merry mime and their simple hearts upleap. 'god save your souls, good christian folk! god save your souls from sin!-- blythe yule is come--let us blythely joke!'-- cry the mummers ere they begin. then, plough-boy jack, in kirtle gay,-- though shod with clouted shoon,-- stands forth the wilful maid to play who ever saith to her lover, 'nay'-- when he sues for a lover's boon. while hob the smith with sturdy arm circleth the feigned maid; and, spite of jack's assumed alarm, busseth his lips, like a lover warm, and will not 'nay' be said then loffe the gossips, as if wit were mingled with the joke: gentles,--they were with folly smit,-- natheless, their memories acquit of crime--these simple folk! no harmful thoughts their revels blight,-- devoid of bitter hate and spite, they hold their merriment;-- and, till the chimes tell noon at night, their joy shall be unspent! come haste ye to bold thorold's hall, and crowd his kitchen wide; for there, he saith, both free and thrall shall sport this good yule-tide." in subsequent verses the writer depicts the bringing in of the yule log to the baron's hall, "where its brave old heart a glow shall impart to the heart of each guest at the festival. * * * * * they pile the yule-log on the hearth,-- soak toasted crabs in ale; and while they sip, their homely mirth is joyous as if all the earth for man were void of bale! and why should fears for future years, mix jolly ale with thoughts of tears when in the horn 'tis poured? and why should ghost of sorrow fright the bold heart of an english knight when beef is on the board? de thorold's guests are wiser than the men of mopish lore; for round they push the smiling can and slice the plattered store. and round they thrust the ponderous cheese, and the loaves of wheat and rye; none stinteth him for lack of ease-- for each a stintless welcome sees in the baron's blythesome eye. the baron joineth the joyous feast-- but not in pomp or pride; he smileth on the humblest guest so gladsomely--all feel that rest of heart which doth abide where deeds of generousness attest the welcome of the tongue professed is not within belied." * * * * * in subsequent verses a stranger minstrel appears on the festive scene, and tells his tale of love in song, acquitting himself "so rare and gentle, that the hall rings with applause which one and all render who share the festival." [illustration] some of the poets of this period have dealt playfully with the festivities of christmastide, as, for example, laman blanchard ( ) in the following effusion:-- christmas chit-chat. in a large family circle. "the day of all days we have seen is christmas," said sue to eugene; "more welcome in village and city than mayday," said andrew to kitty. "why 'mistletoe's' twenty times sweeter than 'may,'" said matilda to peter; "and so you will find it, if i'm a true prophet," said james to jemima. "i'll stay up to supper, no bed," then lisped little laura to ned. "the girls all good-natured and dressy, and bright-cheeked," said arthur to jessie; "yes, hoping ere next year to marry, the madcaps!" said charlotte to harry. "so steaming, so savoury, so juicy, the feast," said fat charley to lucy. "quadrilles and charades might come on before dinner," said martha to john. "you'll find the roast beef when you're dizzy, a settler," said walter to lizzy. "oh, horrid! one wing of a wren, with a pea," said belinda to ben. "sublime!" said--displaying his leg-- george frederick augustus to peg. "at christmas refinement is all fuss and nonsense," said fan to adolphus. "would romps--or a tale of a fairy-- best suit you," said robert to mary. "at stories that work ghost and witch hard, i tremble," said rosa to richard. "a ghostly hair-standing dilemma needs 'bishop,'" said alfred to emma; "what fun when with fear a stout crony turns pale," said maria to tony; "and hector, unable to rally, runs screaming," said jacob to sally. "while you and i dance in the dark the polka," said ruth unto mark: "each catching, according to fancy, his neighbour," said wild tom to nancy; "till candles, to show what we can do, are brought in," said ann to orlando; "and then we all laugh what is truly a heart's laugh," said william to julia. "then sofas and chairs are put even, and carpets," said helen to stephen; "and so we all sit down again, supping twice," said sly joseph to jane. "now bring me my clogs and my spaniel, and light me," said dinah to daniel. "my dearest, you've emptied that chalice six times," said fond edmund to alice. "we are going home tealess and coffeeless shabby!" said soph to theophilus; "to meet again under the holly, _et cetera_," said paul to fair polly. "dear uncle, has ordered his chariot; all's over," said matthew to harriet. "and pray now be all going to bedward," said kind aunt rebecca to edward! christmas eve, , is the time of robert browning's beautiful poem of "christmas eve and easter day," in which the poet sings the song of man's immortality, proclaiming, as easter day breaks and christ rises, that "mercy every way is infinite." [illustration] and, in his beautiful poem of "in memoriam," lord tennyson associates some of his finest verses with the ringing of the christmas bells. "ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, the flying cloud, the frosty light: the year is dying in the night; ring out, wild bells, and let him die. ring out the old, ring in the new, ring, happy bells, across the snow: the year is going, let him go; ring out the false, ring in the true. * * * * * ring out old shapes of foul disease; ring out the narrowing lust of gold; ring out the thousand wars of old, ring in the thousand years of peace. ring in the valiant man and free, the larger heart, the kindlier hand; ring out the darkness of the land, ring in the christ that is to be." [illustration] [illustration: the christmas bells.] as the poet longfellow stood on the lofty tower of bruges cathedral the belfry chimes set him musing, and of those chimes he says: "then most musical and solemn, bringing back the olden times, with their strange, unearthly changes, rang the melancholy chimes, like the psalms from some old cloister, when the nuns sing in the choir; and the great bell tolled among them, like the chanting of a friar. visions of the days departed, shadowy phantoms filled my brain: they who live in history only seemed to walk the earth again." christmas and new year cards were first circulated in england in . that year not more than a thousand copies were printed, and that was considered a large sale. the numbers distributed annually soon increased to tens and hundreds of thousands, and now there are millions of them. mr. j. c. horsley, a member of the royal academy, designed this first card which was sent out in . it represents a family party of three generations--grandfather and grandmother, father and mother, and little children--and all are supposed to be joining in the sentiment, "a merry christmas and a happy new year to you." the card was issued from the office of one of the periodicals of the time, _felix summerley's home treasury_. it was first lithographed, and then it was coloured by hand. christmas and new year cards became very popular in the decade - . but then, however, simple cards alone did not suffice. like many other things, they felt the influence of the latter-day _renaissance_ of art, and by a sort of evolutionary process developed cards monochrome and coloured, "christmas bell" cards, palettes, scrolls, circular and oval panels, stars, fans, crescents, and other shaped novelties; embossed cards, the iridescent series, the rustic and frosted cards, the folding series, the jewel cards, the crayons, and private cards on which the sender's name and sentiments are printed in gold, silver, or colours; hand-painted cards with landscapes, seascapes, and floral decorations; paintings on porcelain; satin cards, fringed silk, plush, broché, and other artistically made-up novelties; "art-gem" panels; elaborate booklets, and other elegant souvenirs of the festive season. many of the christmas booklets are beautifully illustrated editions of popular poems and carols. "quartette" cards, "snap" cards, and other cards of games for the diversion of social gatherings are also extensively used at christmastide. [illustration] rustic christmas masque. in compliance with a wish expressed by the lady londesborough, a masque, entitled, "recollections of old christmas," was performed at grimston at christmas, , the following prologue being contributed by barry cornwall:-- "when winter nights grow long, and winds without blow cold, we sit in a ring round the warm wood-fire, and listen to stories old! and we try to look grave (as maids should be), when the men bring in boughs of the laurel tree. o the laurel, the evergreen tree! the poets have laurels--and why not we? how pleasant when night falls down, and hides the wintry sun, to see them come in to the blazing fire, and know that their work is done; whilst many bring in, with a laugh or rhyme, green branches of holly for christmas time! o the holly, the bright green holly! it tells (like a tongue) that the times are jolly! sometimes--(in _our_ grave house observe this happeneth not;) but at times, the evergreen laurel boughs, and the holly are all forgot! and then! what then? why the men laugh low, and hang up a branch of--the misletoe! oh, brave is the laurel! and brave is the holly! but the misletoe banisheth melancholy! ah, nobody knows, nor ever _shall_ know, what is done under the misletoe!" a printed copy of the masque, which bears date, "tuesday, xxiv december, mdcccl.," is preserved in the british museum. "characters (which speak) "old father christmas hon. mr. thelluson young grimston hon. mr. denison baron of beef hon. miss thelluson plum-pudding hon. miss denison mince-pie hon. miss selina denison wassail-bowl hon. miss isabella denison "characters (which do not speak, or say as little as possible--all that they are requested to do) ursa minor hon. miss ursula denison baby cake hon. henry charles denison." [illustration] under the holly bough. ye who have scorn'd each other or injured friend or brother, in this fast fading year; ye who, by word or deed, have made a kind heart bleed, come gather here. let sinn'd against and sinning, forget their strife's beginning; be links no longer broken, be sweet forgiveness spoken, under the holly bough. ye who have lov'd each other, sister and friend and brother, in this fast fading year: mother, and sire, and child, young man and maiden mild, come gather here; and let your hearts grow fonder, as memory shall ponder each past unbroken vow. old loves and younger wooing, are sweet in the renewing, under the holly bough. ye who have nourished sadness, estranged from hope and gladness, in this fast fading year. ye with o'er-burdened mind made aliens from your kind, come gather here. let not the useless sorrow pursue you night and morrow, if e'er you hoped--hope now-- take heart: uncloud your faces, and join in our embraces under the holly bough. _charles mackay, ll.d._ the author of this beautiful poem (dr. charles mackay) was born at perth in , and died on christmas eve, , at his residence, longridge road, earl's court, brompton. ghost stories. everybody knows that christmas is the time for ghost stories, and that charles dickens and other writers have supplied us with tales of the true blood-curdling type. thomas hood's "haunted house," s. t. coleridge's "ancient mariner," and some other weird works of poetry have also been found serviceable in producing that strange chill of the blood, that creeping kind of feeling all over you, which is one of the enjoyments of christmastide. coleridge (says the late mr. george dawson)[ ] "holds the first place amongst english poets in this objective teaching of the vague, the mystic, the dreamy, and the imaginative. i defy any man of imagination or sensibility to have 'the ancient mariner' read to him, by the flickering firelight on christmas night, by a master mind possessed by the mystic spirit of the poem, and not find himself taken away from the good regions of 'ability to account for,' and taken into some far-off dreamland, and made even to start at his own footfall, and almost to shudder at his own shadow. you shall sit round the fire at christmas time, good men and true every one of you; you shall come there armed with your patent philosophy; that creak you have heard, it is only the door--the list is not carefully put round the door, and it is the wintry wind that whistles through the crevices. ghosts and spectres belong to the olden times; science has waved its wand and laid them all. we have no superstition about us; we walk enlightened nineteenth-century men; it is quite beneath us to be superstitious. by and bye, one begins to tell tales of ghosts and spirits; and another begins, and it goes all round; and there comes over you a curious feeling--a very unphilosophical feeling, in fact, because the pulsations of air from the tongue of the storyteller ought not to bring over you that peculiar feeling. you have only heard words, tales--confessedly by the storyteller himself only tales, such as may figure in the next monthly magazine for pure entertainment and amusement. but why do you feel so, then? if you say that these things are mere hallucinations, vague air-beating or tale-telling, why, good philosopher, do you feel so curious, so all-overish, as it were? again, you are a man without the least terror in you, as brave and bold a man as ever stepped: living man cannot frighten you, and verily the dead rise not with you. but you are brought, towards midnight, to the stile over which is gained a view of the village churchyard, where sleep the dead in quietness. your manhood begins just to ooze away a little; you are caught occasionally whistling to keep your courage up; you do not expect to see a ghost, but you are ready to see one, or to make one." at such a moment, think of the scene depicted by coleridge:-- "'twas night, calm night, the moon was high; the dead men stood together. all stood together on the deck, for a charnel-dungeon fitter: all fixed on me their stony eyes, that in the moon did glitter. the pang, the curse, with which they died, had never passed away: i could not draw my eyes from theirs, nor turn them up to pray." with this weird tale in his mind in the mystic stillness of midnight would an imaginative man be likely to deny the reality of the spirit world? the chances are that he would be spellbound; or, if he had breath enough, would cry out-- "angels and ministers of grace, defend us!" "in the year , the widow of ralph cranbourne, of dipmore end, in the parish of sandhurst, berks, was one midnight alarmed by a noise in her bedchamber, and, looking up, she saw at her bedfoot the appearance of a skeleton (which she verily believed was her husband) nodding and talking to her upon its fingers, or finger bones, after the manner of a dumb person. whereupon she was so terrified, that after striving to scream aloud, which she could not, for her tongue clave to her mouth, she fell backward as in a swoon; yet not so insensible withal but she could see that at this the figure became greatly agitated and distressed, and would have clasped her, but upon her appearance of loathing it desisted, only moving its jaw upward and downward, as if it would cry for help but could not for want of its parts of speech. at length, she growing more and more faint, and likely to die of fear, the spectre suddenly, as if at a thought, began to swing round its hand, which was loose at the wrist, with a brisk motion, and the finger bones being long and hard, and striking sharply against each other, made a loud noise like to the springing of a watchman's rattle. at which alarm, the neighbours running in, stoutly armed, as against thieves or murderers, the spectre suddenly departed."[ ] "his shoes they were coffins, his dim eye reveal'd the gleam of a grave-lamp with vapours oppress'd; and a dark crimson necklace of blood-drops congeal'd reflected each bone that jagg'd out of his breast."[ ] [illustration] welcome to christmas. by mary howitt. he comes--the brave old christmas! his sturdy steps i hear; we will give him a hearty welcome, for he comes but once a year! and of all our old acquaintance 'tis he we like the best; there's a jolly old way about him-- there's a warm heart in his breast. he is not too proud to enter your house though it be mean; yet is company fit for a courtier, and is welcomed by the queen! he can tell you a hundred stories of the old world's whims and ways, and how they merrily wish'd him joy in our fathers' courting days. he laughs with the heartiest laughter that does one good to hear; 'tis a pity so brave an old fellow should come but once a year! but once, then, let us be ready, with all that he can desire-- with plenty of holly and ivy, and a huge log for the fire; with plenty of noble actions, and plenty of warm good-will; with our hearts as full of kindness as the board we mean to fill. with plenty of store in the larder, and plenty of wine in the bin; and plenty of mirth for the kitchen; then open and let him in! oh, he is a fine old fellow-- his heart's in the truest place; you may know that at once by the children, who glory to see his face. for he never forgets the children, they all are dear to him; you'll see that with wonderful presents his pockets are cramm'd to the brim. nor will he forget the servants, whether you've many or one; nor the poor old man at the corner; nor the widow who lives alone. he is rich as a jew, is old christmas, i wish he would make me his heir; but he has plenty to do with his money, and he is not given to spare. not he--bless the good old fellow! he hates to hoard his pelf; he wishes to make all people as gay as he is himself. so he goes to the parish unions-- north, south, and west and east-- and there he gives the paupers, at his own expense a feast. he gives the old men tobacco, and the women a cup of tea; and he takes the pauper children, and dances them on his knee. i wish you could see those paupers sit down to his noble cheer, you would wish, like them, and no wonder, that he stay'd the livelong year. yes, he is the best old fellow that ever on earth you met; and he gave us a boon when first he came which we can never forget. so we will give him a welcome shall gladden his old heart's core! and let us in good and gracious deeds resemble him more and more! _december , ._ wassailing the apple-trees. writing on this subject, in the _antiquary_, march, , mr. harry hems, of exeter, introduces the reduced copy of an illustration which appears on the following page, and which he states was published in the _illustrated london news_, january , . the picture (says mr. hems) "presents, as will be seen, a frosty, moonlight night, with a brilliantly-lit old farmhouse in the background. in the fore are leafless fruit-trees, and three men firing guns at them, whilst the jovial farmer and another man drink success to the year's crop from glasses evidently filled from a jug of cider, which the latter also holds a-high. a crowd of peasants--men, women and children--are gathered around, and the following description is appended:-- "'amongst the scenes of jocund hospitality in this holiday season, that are handed down to us, is one which not only presents an enlivening picture, but offers proof of the superstition that still prevails in the western counties. on twelfth-even, in devonshire, it is customary for the farmer to leave his warm fireside, accompanied by a band of rustics, with guns, blunderbusses, &c., presenting an appearance which at other times would be somewhat alarming. thus armed, the band proceeds to an adjoining orchard, where is selected one of the most fruitful and aged of the apple-trees, grouping round which they stand and offer up their invocations in the following quaint doggerel rhyme:-- "'here's to thee, old apple-tree! whence thou mayst bud, and whence thou mayst blow, and whence thou mayst bear apples enow: hats full, caps full, bushels, bushels, sacks full, and my pockets full too! huzza! huzza!'" [illustration: wassailing the apple-trees in devonshire.] the cider-jug is then passed round, and, with many a hearty shout, the party fire off their guns, charged with powder only, amidst the branches, sometimes frightening the owl from its midnight haunt. with confident hopes they return to the farmhouse, and are refused admittance, in spite of all weather, till some lucky wight guesses aright the peculiar roast the maidens are preparing for their comfort. this done, all enter, and soon right merrily the jovial glass goes round, that man who gained admittance receiving the honour of king for the evening, and till a late hour he reigns, amidst laughter, fun, and jollity. the origin of this custom is not known, but it is supposed to be one of great antiquity. "'the illustration is from a sketch by mr. colebrooke, stockdale.'" we may add that, in the seventeenth century, a similar custom seems to have been observed in some places on christmas eve, for in herrick's _hesperides_ the wassailing of fruit trees is among the christmas eve ceremonies:-- "wassail the trees, that they may beare you many a plum, and many a peare; for more or less fruits they will bring, as you do give them wassailing." christmas morning in exeter cathedral. writing from exeter, in , a correspondent says "the custom of welcoming this season of holy joy with 'psalms and hymns and spiritual songs' lingers in the cathedral city of exeter; where, during christmas eve, the parish choirs perambulate the streets singing anthems, with instrumental accompaniments. the singing is protracted through the night, when the celebration often assumes a more secular character than is strictly in accordance with the festival. a more sacred commemoration is, however, at hand. "at a quarter-past seven o'clock on christmas morning the assemblage of persons in the nave of exeter cathedral is usually very numerous: there are the remnants of the previous vigil, with unwashed faces and sleepy eyes; but a large number are early risers, who have left their beds for better purposes than a revel. there is a great muster of the choir, and the fine old hundredth psalm is sung from the gallery to a full organ, whose billows of sound roll through the vaulted edifice. the scene is strikingly picturesque: all is dim and shadowy; the red light from the flaring candles falling upon upturned faces, and here and there falling upon a piece of grave sculpture, whilst the grey light of day begins to stream through the antique windows, adding to the solemnity of the scene. as the last verse of the psalm peals forth, the crowd begins to move, and the spacious cathedral is soon left to the more devout few who remain to attend the morning service in the lady-chapel." a welsh christmas. from the "christmas chronicles of llanfairpwllycrochon," by r. p. hampton roberts, in _notes and queries_, december , , we quote the following: "now thomas thomas, and mary jones, and all their neighbours, had great veneration for christmas, and enjoyed much pleasure in looking forward to the annual recurrence of the feast. not that they looked upon it as a feast in any ecclesiastical sense, for llanfairpwllycrochon was decidedly calvinistically methodist, and rejected all such things as mere popish superstition. "the christmas goose was a great institution at llanfairpwllycrochon. the annual goose club had no existence there, it is true, but the annual goose had nevertheless. thomas thomas, after his memorable visit to london, came home imbued with one english idea which startled the villagers more than anything had done since the famous bonfire on the outlying hill when the heir came of age, and it was a long time before they recovered from their surprise. it was nothing less than a proposition to substitute beef for the christmas dinner instead of a goose. here was a sad falling off from the ways of llanfairpwllycrochon! and thomas thomas was a man who persisted in an idea once it entered his mind--an event of rare occurrence, it is true, and consequently all the more stubborn whenever it did occur. thomas thomas had, however, sufficient respect for the opinion of his neighbours to make him compromise matters by providing for himself alone a small beefsteak as an adjunct to the time-honoured goose. "another christmas institution at llanfairpwllycrochon was the universal pudding, mixed as is wont by every member of the family. then there was the bun-loaf, or _barabrith_, one of the grand institutions of llanfairpwllycrochon. many were the pains taken over this huge loaf--made large enough to last a week or fortnight, according to the appetites of the juvenile partakers--and the combined "christmas-boxes" of the grocer and baker went to make up the appetising whole, with much more in addition. "christmas eve was a day of exceeding joy at llanfairpwllycrochon. the manufacture of paper ornaments and 'kissing bushes,' radiant with oranges, apples, paper roses, and such like fanciful additions as might suit the taste or means of the house-holder, occupied most of the day. and then they had to be put up, and the house in its christmas decorations looked more resplendent than the imagination of the most advanced villager--at present at school, and of the mature age of five and a half years, the rising hope of the schoolmaster, and a lord chancellor in embryo in fine--could have pictured. as a reward for the day's toil came the night's sweet task of making _cyflath_, _i.e._, toffee. thomas thomas, and those who spoke the saxon tongue among the villagers, called it 'taffy.' once had thomas thomas been corrected in his pronunciation, but the hardy saxon who ventured on the bold proceeding was silenced when he heard that he was not to think he was going to persuade a reasonable man into mutilating the english tongue. 'taffy it iss, and taffy i says,' and there was an end of the matter. without taffy the inhabitants of llanfairpwllycrochon, it was firmly believed by the vicar, would not have known the difference between christmas and another time, and it is not therefore matter for surprise that they should so tenaciously cling to its annual making. at midnight, when the syrupy stuff was sufficiently boiled, it would be poured into a pan and put into the open air to cool. here was an opportunity for the beaux of the village which could not be missed. they would steal, if possible, the whole, pan and all, and entail a second making on the unfortunate victims of their practical joke. "sometimes the christmas eve proceedings would be varied by holding a large evening party, continued all night, the principal amusement of which would be the boiling of toffee, one arm taking, when another was tired, the large wooden spoon, and turning the boiling mass of sugar and treacle, this process being continued for many hours, until nothing would be left to partake of but a black, burnt sort of crisp, sugary cinder. sometimes the long boiling would only result in a soft mass, disagreeable to the taste and awkward to the hand, the combined efforts of each member of the party failing to secure consistency or strength in the mixed ingredients. "and then there were the carols at midnight, and many more were the christmas customs at llanfairpwllycrochon." effects of the season. "these christmas decorations are _so_ jolly!" she cried, zeal shining in her orbs of blue. "_don't_ you like laurel gleaming under holly?" he answered, "_i_ love mistletoe over _yew_!"--_punch._ [illustration: "st. george" in combat with "st. peter."] yorkshire sword-actors. under this title, mr. t. m. fallow, m.a., f.s.a., writing in the _antiquary_, may, , gives an account of rustic performances which were witnessed at christmastide in the neighbourhood of leeds about fifteen years earlier, and he illustrates the subject with a series of pictures from photographs taken at the time, which are here reproduced. the play depicted is that of the "seven champions of christendom," and in the picture on the preceding page "st. george" is shown engaged in combat with "st. peter," while "st. andrew" and "st. denys" are each kneeling on one knee, a sign of their having been vanquished. "it may be well to point out," says mr. fallow, "that in the west riding, or at any rate in the neighbourhood of leeds, the sword-actors were quite distinct from the 'mummers.' they generally numbered nine or ten lads, who, disguised by false beards as men, were dressed in costume as appropriate to the occasion as their knowledge and finances would permit, and who acted, with more or less skill, a short play, which, as a rule, was either the 'peace egg' or the 'seven champions of christendom.' the following illustration shows two of the 'champions,' as photographed at the time stated:-- [illustration: "st. peter." "st. denys."] "there was a little indefiniteness," says mr. fallow, "as to the characters represented in the play, but usually they were the king of egypt, his daughter, a fool or jester, st. george, st. andrew, st. patrick, st. david, st. denys, st. james, and a st. thewhs, who represented a northern nation--russia, or sometimes denmark--and whose exact identity seems obscure. the seven champions occasionally included st. peter of rome, as in the group whose photograph is given. st. george engaged in mortal combat with each champion in succession, fighting for the hand of the king of egypt's daughter. when at length each of the six was slain, st. george, having vanquished them all, won the fair lady, amid the applause of the bystanders. then, at the conclusion, after a general clashing and crossing of swords, the fool or jester stepped forward, and wound up the performance with an appeal for pecuniary recognition." other christmas performances. in a christmas article, published in , dr. rimbault mentions the performance of "st. george and the dragon" in the extreme western and northern parts of the country. the following five characters are given: father christmas, turkish knight, king of egypt, st. george, doctor. other writers mention similar plays, with variations of characters, as seen in the rural parts of northamptonshire, warwickshire, and staffordshire, and the present writer has himself seen such plays at madeley, in shropshire. s. arnott, of turnham green, writing in _notes and queries_, december , , says: "when i was living at hollington, near hastings, in the year , the village boys were in the habit of visiting the houses of the gentry at christmas time to perform a play, which had been handed down by tradition." the description of the play which then followed shows that it was another variation of the well-known christmas play, and included the "turkish knight," the "bold slasher," and other familiar characters. a scotch first footing. writing on "mid-winter customs in the north," mr. edward garrett says "it is not easy to write of 'christmas customs in the north,' because many of them, even though connected with the christmas festival, do not take place till january th, that being christmas day, old style, while most of them are associated with the new year, either old or new style, one of the most striking celebrations coming off on january th, regarded as 'new year's eve.' "christmas itself has never been a national scottish festival since the reformation. on its purely festive side, it has become somewhat of a 'fashion' of late years, but its ancient customs have only lingered on in those districts where episcopacy has taken deep root. such a district is 'buchan'--a track of country in the north-east of aberdeenshire--a place which cannot be better described than in the words of one of its own gifted sons, dr. walter smith:-- "'a treeless land, where beeves are good, and men have quaint, old-fashioned ways, and every burn has ballad lore, and every hamlet has its song, and on its surf-beat, rocky shore the eerie legend lingers long. old customs live there, unaware that they are garments cast away, and what of light is lingering there is lingering light of yesterday.'" [illustration: a scotch first footing.] yuletide customs in shetland. the inherent scandinavianism of the shetlander, which leads him to repudiate the appellation of scotchman, and to cherish in secret the old customs and superstitions of his ancestors, asserts itself yearly in the high jinks with which he continues to honour the old holy days of yule. until within the last two or three years, he pertinaciously adhered to the old style in his observance of these festivities. on christmas eve, new year's eve, and uphelya--the twenty-fourth day after yule, and that on which the holy or holidays are supposed to be "up"--the youths of lerwick, attired in fantastic dresses, go "guising" about the town in bands, visiting their friends and acquaintances and reproducing in miniature the carnival of more southern climes. on one or other of these occasions a torchlight procession forms part of the revelry. formerly blazing tar barrels were dragged about the town, and afterwards, with the first break of morning, dashed over the knab into the sea. but this ancient and dangerous custom has very properly been discontinued. the dresses of the guisers are often of the most expensive and fanciful description. highlanders, spanish cavaliers, negro minstrels, soldiers in the peaked caps, kerseymere breeches, and scarlet coats turned up with buff, of the reign of george ii., robin hoods, and maid marians were found in the motley throng. some, with a boldness worthy of aristophanes himself, caricature the dress, the walk, or some other eccentricity of leading personages in the town; others--for the spirit of "the happy land" has reached these hyperborean regions--make pleasant game of well-known political characters. each band of guisers has its fiddler, who walks before it, playing "scalloway lasses," or "the foula reel," or "the nippin' grund," or some other archaic tune. thus conducted, and blowing a horn to give notice of their approach, the maskers enter the doors of all houses which they find open, dance a measure with the inmates, partake of and offer refreshment, and then depart to repeat the same courtesies elsewhere. at daylight the horn of the most worthy grand guiser, a mysterious personage, whose personality and functions are enveloped in the deepest concealment, is heard summoning all the bands to end their revels, and when, in the cold grey dawn of the winter morning, the worthy citizens of lerwick awake to pursue their wonted avocations, not a trace remains of the saturnalia of the night before.--sheriff rampini, in _good words_. now, passing from the islands to the sea itself, it is pleasant to note that in recent years christian hearts have carried christmas cheer to the north sea fishermen. through the "mission to deep sea fishermen" twelve thousand brave and hardy fishermen have been cheered at christmastide, for to their fleets the mission's vessels now take medical and surgical aid, books and magazines, woollen garments and tobacco, which, as adjuncts to higher religious aid, are turning the once wild and desperate ocean roughs into clean-living sailors and good husbands and fathers--therefore are these days on the north sea better far than those that are gone. thousands of these brave men turn at christmas to the m.d.s.f. flag as to the one bright link which binds them to friendly hearts ashore, assuring them that in england's christmas festivities they and their like have a real part, and are no longer forgotten. some facts recorded by the rev. john sinclair[ ] illustrate the dangers of the wild winter sea, and also set forth some christmas experiences in the orkney isles. they were related to mr. sinclair by mr. traill, chief of the clan, with whom he stayed on the occasion of his visit to the island of pappa westra. the first of the two incidents was as follows:--"one christmas day," says mr. traill, "during a heavy gale, i wrapped my cloak about me, and started off with my telescope to walk upon the cliffs. coming to the other side of the island, on which the surf was beating violently, i observed a vessel a few miles off fire a signal of distress. i hastened to the nearest point, and with the help of my glass perceived that she was dutch built, and that, having lost her rudder, she was quite unmanageable. she fired several guns at short intervals, and my people came in large numbers to give assistance. but the surf was so fearful that nothing could be done. no boat could have lived a moment in such a sea. we were all utterly helpless. as the vessel drifted towards us, i could see the whole tragedy as distinctly as if it had been acted on the stage. immediately below me were a number of my fellow-creatures, now alive and in health, and in a few moments they would all be mangled corpses. i could make out the expression of their features, and see in what manner each was preparing for inevitable death. but whether they climbed up into the shrouds, or held by ropes on deck while the sea was washing over the bulwarks, their fate was the same. the first wave lifted the vessel so high that i almost thought it would have placed her upon the land. she fell back, keel upwards. the next wave struck her with such terrific force against the cliffs that she was shivered at once into a thousand pieces; hardly two planks held together. it seemed as if she had been made of glass. not a soul escaped. one or two bodies, with a few planks and casks, were all that ever reached the shore." well might mr. traill add, "i was haunted for months by the remembrance of that heartrending sight." the other story related by mr. traill shows that a christmas party may be detained indefinitely in one of these remote islands, should the weather prove unfavourable. at christmastide, a former laird of westra "collected a numerous party from all the neighbouring islands to celebrate the christening of his eldest son." his hospitalities cost him dear. a storm arose; his guests could not get away; instead of enjoying their society for a few days, he was obliged to entertain them at a ruinous expense for many weeks. his larder, his cellar, and his barns, were by degrees exhausted. his farm stock had all been slaughtered, except the old bull, which he was reserving as a last resource, when at length the wind abated, and a calm delivered him from this ruinous situation. thus it appears that in these remote islands of scotland christmas is not forgotten. but a writer in a well-known scotch journal says the surest sign of the general joy is "christmas in the workhouse":-- "christmas was gay in the old squire's hall, gay at the village inn, cheery and loud by the farmer's fire, happy the manse within; but the surest signs of the general joy, and that all the world was happy--very, were the sounds that proved at the workhouse door that even 'the paupers' were merry." a remarkable christmas gathering. the greenwich hospital for sick seamen of all nations presented on christmas day, , a remarkable gathering of national representatives. there were sailors, representing nationalities, belonging to ships of distinct nations. they were summed up thus:--england, ; wales, ; scotland, ; ireland, ; norway, ; sweden, ; finland, ; united states, ; denmark, ; british india, ; france, ; germany, ; nova scotia, ; russia, ; austria, ; italy, ; cape de verd islands, ; chili, ; jamaica, ; barbadoes, ; st. thomas, ; spain, ; portugal, ; canada, ; new brunswick, ; transvaal, ; gold coast, ; brazil, ; st. kitts, ; mauritius, ; society islands, . the mercantile marines represented were no bad index to the proportion of the carrying trade of the world each nation undertakes:--england, vessels; ireland, ; scotland, ; wales, ; norway, ; sweden, ; united states, ; denmark, ; france, ; germany, ; nova scotia, ; russia, ; netherlands, ; channel islands, ; new brunswick, ; italy, ; zanzibar, ; spain, . the early morning brought warm christmas wishes to the patients. each found by his bedside a packet addressed to him by name. some good lady had taken the enormous pains to work a pretty, and, at the same time, stout and serviceable wallet, with the inscription, "my letters," embroidered thereupon, and to accompany this little gift, in every case, with a short and seasonable letter of christmas wishes, using other languages than english, to suit the convenience of every recipient. the initials under which these offerings came were "n. c. h." other gifts, christmas cards and christmas reading, in the shape of magazines and illustrated papers were gladly welcomed. the decorations of the corridors and rooms had given occupation to the sick sailors for several days, and sentiments of loyalty to the queen and the royal family were abundantly displayed, together with portraits of members of the royal family which had been drawn from fancy. the officers and nurses had dedicated to them some specimens of real sailor poetry, combining the names of the staff. with grim humour, the "operation room" bore above it "nil desperandum"; and the decorated walls of the hospital told the onlookers that "small vessels should keep in shore," that "windmills are not turned by a pair of bellows," that "good things are not found in heaps," that "hasty people fish in empty ponds," that "plenty, like want, ruins many," &c. the dinner at one o'clock was a great success. all who could get out of bed made it a point of honour to be present. but for adverse winds keeping ships from entering the thames, the guests would have been more numerous. but, as it was, the patients under the roof numbered . there were, of course, difficulties of language; but no "jack" ever ploughed the sea who does not understand a christmas dinner; and, besides, the hospital in its nurses and staff possesses the means of conversing in seventeen different languages. the scene was a thoroughly christmas one; and many other festive scenes, almost as interesting, were seen in all parts of england. whether recorded or unrecorded, who does not rejoice in such efforts to promote "goodwill amongst men," and long for the time-- "when peace shall over all the earth its ancient splendours fling, and the whole world send back the song, which now the angels sing." christmas crackers. one of the popular institutions inseparable from the festivities of christmastide has long been the "cracker." the satisfaction which young people especially experience in pulling the opposite ends of a gelatine and paper cylinder is of the keenest, accompanied as the operation is by a mixed anticipation--half fearful as to the explosion that is to follow, and wholly delightful with regard to the bonbon or motto which will thus be brought to light. much amusement is afforded to the lads and lassies by the fortune-telling verses which some of the crackers contain. but the cracker of our early days was something far different from what it is now. the sharp "crack" with which the article exploded, and from which it took its name, was then its principal, and, in some cases, its only feature; and the exclamation, "i know i shall scream," which john leech, in one of his sketches, puts into the mouth of two pretty girls engaged in cracker-pulling, indicated about the all of delight which that occupation afforded. since then, however, the cracker has undergone a gradual development. becoming by degrees a receptacle for bon-bons, rhymed mottoes, little paper caps and aprons, and similar toys, it has passed on to another and higher stage, and is even made a vehicle for high art illustrations. considerable artistic talent has been introduced in the adornment of these novelties. for instance, the "silhouette" crackers are illustrated with black figures, comprising portraits of well-known characters in the political, military, and social world, exquisitely executed, while appropriate designs have been adapted to other varieties, respectively designated "cameos," "bric-a-brac," "musical toys," &c.; and it is quite evident that the education of the young in matters of good taste is not overlooked in the provision of opportunities for merriment. santa claus and the stocking. hang up the baby's stocking! be sure you don't forget! the dear little dimpled darling, she never saw   christmas   yet!   but   i've told her all about it, and she opened her  big  blue  eyes; and i'm sure she understood it--she  looked so funny and wise. * * *  dear, what a tiny stocking!  it doesn't take much to hold such little pink toes as baby's away from the frost and cold.  but then,  for  the baby's christmas, it will never do at all. why! santa wouldn't be looking for    anything    half   so small.  * * *  i know what will do for the baby. i've thought of the very best plan.   i'll  borrow  a stocking  of grandma's, the longest that ever i can.  and you'll hang  it  by  mine, dear mother, right here in the corner, so!   and  leave  a letter to santa, and fasten   it on to the toe. * * * write--this is the baby's stocking, that hangs in the corner here.  you  never have seen her, santa, for she only came this year.   but she's just the blessed'st baby.   and now before  you  go, just  cram  her stocking  with goodies, from the top clean down to the toe! fatally burnt in christmas costumes. the christmastide of - was marred by two fatal accidents which again illustrate the danger of dressing for entertainments in highly-inflammable materials. in the first case a london lady, on boxing night, was entertaining some friends, and appeared herself in the costume of _winter_. she was dressed in a white robe of thin fabric, and stood under a canopy from which fell pieces of cotton wool to represent snowflakes, and in their descent one of them caught light at the candelabra, and fell at deceased's feet. in trying to put it out with her foot her dress caught fire, and she was immediately enveloped in flames. so inflammable was the material that, although prompt assistance was rendered, she was so severely burnt as to become unconscious. a medical man was sent for, and everything possible was done for her; but she sank gradually, and died from exhaustion. the second of these tragical incidents plunged a paris family in deep sorrow. the parents, who lived in a beautiful detached house in the rue de la bienfaisance, had arranged that their children and some youthful cousins were to play before a party of friends on new year's night on the stage of a little theatre which had just been added to their house. the play was to represent the decrepit old year going out and the new one coming in. the eldest daughter, a charming girl of fourteen, was to be the good genius of , and to be dressed in a loose transparent robe. on the appointed evening, after the company had assembled, she donned her stage costume and ran into her mother's bedroom to see how it became her. while looking at herself in a mirror on the toilette table her loose sleeve came in contact with the flame of a candle and blazed up. she screamed for help and tried to roll herself in the bed clothes; but the bed, being covered with a lace coverlet and curtained with muslin was also set on fire, and soon the whole room was ablaze. by the time help arrived the girl's clothes were all burning into the flesh; but such was her vitality that, in spite of the dreadful state in which every inch of her body was, she survived the accident many hours. similar disasters occurred at christmas festivities in , at detroit, and in , at wortley, leeds. in the former several little children were fatally burnt, and in the latter fifteen children were set on fire, eleven of them fatally. [illustration] christmas literature is too large a subject to enter upon at length, for a bulky volume would scarcely suffice to describe the numerous christmas annuals, illustrated christmas numbers, newspaper supplements and variety papers which have become popular at christmastide since the first appearance of dickens's "christmas stories." the development of the christmas trade in this light literature has been marvellous, and it is increasing year by year. and the same may be said of the charming gift-books which are published annually just before christmas. christmas letter missions. through the various letter missions that have been established thousands of christmas letters and illustrated missives, bright with anecdote, are despatched annually to the inmates of convalescent homes and hospitals, and are heartily welcomed by the recipients, for every one likes to be remembered on christmas day. the post-office officials and postmen have, however, been very heavily weighted with these new christmas customs. they have inflicted upon postmen and letter-sorters an amount of extra labour that is almost incredible. the postal-parcel work is also very heavy at the festive season. the railways at christmas. "home for the holidays, here we go; bless me, the train is exceedingly slow! pray, mr. engineer, get up your steam, and let us be off, with a puff and a scream! we have two long hours to travel, you say; come, mr. engineer, gallop away!"[ ] this familiar verse recalls the eagerness of the schoolboy to be home for the christmas holidays. and adults are no less eager to join their friends at the festive season; many travel long journeys in order to do so. hence the great pressure of work on railway employés, and the congested state of the traffic at christmastide. two or three days before christmas day the newspapers publish what are called "railway arrangements," detailing the privileges granted by this and that company, and presenting the holiday traveller with a sort of appetising programme; and any one who will spend an hour at any of the great termini of the metropolis at this period can see the remarkable extent to which the public avail themselves of the facilities offered. the growth of railway travelling at christmastide has, indeed, been marvellous in recent years, and it becomes greater every year. the crowded state of the railway stations, and the trains that roll out of them heavily laden with men, women, and children, wedged together by parcels bursting with good cheer, show most unmistakably that we have not forgotten the traditions of christmas as a time of happy gatherings in the family circles of old england. * * * * * but, as there is also much christmas-keeping in other parts of the world, we pass now to-- [ ] huish's "life of george the third." [ ] _gentleman's magazine_, . [ ] copied from an undated leaflet inserted in the british museum copy of brand's "antiquities," by the late mr joseph hazlewood. [ ] hone's "every-day book," . [ ] herbert h. adams. [ ] "a black christmas makes a fat kirk-yard." a windy christmas and a calm candlemas are signs of a good year. [ ] the "savoury haggis" (from _hag_ to chop) is a dish commonly made in a sheep's maw, of its lungs, heart, and liver, mixed with suet, onions, salt, and pepper; or of oatmeal mixed with the latter, without any animal food. [ ] f. lawrence. [ ] "old english customs and charities," . [ ] "biographical lectures." [ ] "history of berks," vol. xxv. [ ] "grim, king of the ghosts." [ ] "old times and distant places," . [ ] eliza cook. [illustration] _chapter xii._ modern christmases abroad. christmas-keeping in the arctic regions, - . "the bluejackets are generally better hands than the red-coats at improvising a jollification--jack, at any rate, does not take his pleasures sadly. the gallant bands that have from time to time gone forth to a bloodless campaign in the icy north, have always managed to keep their christmas right joyously. certainly they could not complain of uncongenial skies or unseasonable temperatures; while, so far as snow and ice are necessary to thorough enjoyment, the supply in the arctic regions is on a scale sufficient to satisfy the most ardent admirer of an old-fashioned christmas. the frozen-in investigators under mcclure kept their first arctic christmas soberly, cheerfully, and in good fellowship, round tables groaning with good cheer, in the shape of sandwich island beef, musk veal from the prince of wales's strait, mince-meat from england, splendid preserves from the green isle, and dainty dishes from scotland. every one talked of home, and speculated respecting the doings of dear ones there; and healths were drunk, not omitting those of their fellow-labourers sauntering somewhere in the regions about, but how near or how far away none could tell. when the festival came round again, the _investigator_ and _enterprise_ were alone in their glory, and they were separated by miles of frozen sea; but they had solved the great problem.[ ] on board the _investigator_, frost-bound in the bay of mercy, things went as merry as the proverbial marriage-bell. after divine service, everybody took a constitutional on the ice until dinner-time; then the officers sat down to a meal of which the _pièce de résistance_ was a haunch of banks' island reindeer, weighing twenty pounds, with fat two inches thick, and a most delicious flavour; while the crew were regaling upon venison and other good things, double allowance of grog included; and dinner discussed, dancing, singing, and skylarking filled up the holiday hours till bedtime; the fun being kept up with unflagging humour, and with such propriety withal as to make their leader wish the anxious folks at home could have witnessed the scene created amidst so many gloomy influences, by the crew of a ship after two years' sojourn in those ice-bound regions upon their own resources. another christmas found the brave fellows still confined in their snowy prison; but their table boasted plum-pudding rich enough for arctic appetites, banks' land venison, mercy bay hare-soup, ptarmigan pasties, and musk-ox beef--hung-beef, surely, seeing it had been dangling in the rigging above two years. the poets among the men wrote songs making light of the hardships they had endured; the painters exhibited pictures of past perils; comic actors were not wanting; and the whole company, casting all anxiety to the winds, enjoyed themselves to the utmost."[ ] in the spring of , before the breaking out of the franco-german war, germany sent out two ships, the _germania_ and the _hansa_, with the hope of reaching the north pole. as is usually the case in arctic expeditions, little could be done during the first season, and the ships were obliged to take up their winter-quarters off the east coast of greenland. they had already been separated, so that the crew of one vessel, had no idea of the condition of the other. an officer upon the _germania_ gives the following interesting account of their christmas festivities in the arctic regions:-- "to the men who have already lived many weary months among the icebergs, christmas signifies, in addition to its other associations, that the half of their long night--with its fearful storms, its enforced cessation of all energy, its discomfort and sadness--has passed, and that the sun will soon again shed its life and warmth-giving beams on the long-deserted north. from this time the grim twilight, during which noon has been hardly distinguishable from the other hours, grows daily lighter, until at length all hearts are gladdened, and a cheerful activity is once again called forth by the first glimpse of the sun. christmas, the midnight of the arctic explorer, thus marks a period in his life which he has good cause to consider a joyful one. "for days before the festival, an unusual activity was observable all over the ship; and as soon as the severe storm which raged from december th to the st had abated, parties were organised, under our botanist, dr. pansch, to certain points of sabine island, near to which we were anchored, where, in a strangely sheltered nook, several varieties of a native greenland evergreen plant, _andromeda tetragona_, were to be found. a great quantity of this plant was conveyed on board, to be converted into a christmas-tree. under the orders of dr. pansch, the andromeda was wound round small pieces of wood, several of which were attached, like fir-twigs, to a large bough; and when these boughs were fastened to a pole, they formed a very respectable fir-tree. "after dinner on christmas day, the cabin was cleared for the completion of the preparations; and on our recall at six o'clock, we found that all had assumed an unwontedly festive appearance. the walls were decorated with the signal-flags and our national eagle; and the large cabin table, somewhat enlarged to make room to seat seventeen men, was covered with a clean white cloth, which had been reserved for the occasion. on the table stood the 'fir' tree, shining in the splendour of many little wax-lights, and ornaments with all sorts of little treasures, some of which, such as the gilded walnuts, had already seen a christmas in germany; below the tree was a small present for each of us, provided long beforehand, in readiness for the day, by loving friends and relatives at home. there was a packet too for each of the crew, containing some little joking gift, prepared by the mirth-loving dr. pansch, and a useful present also; while the officers were each and all remembered. "when the lights burned down, and the resinous andromeda was beginning to take fire, the tree was put aside, and a feast began, at which full justice was done to the costly sicilian wine with which a friend had generously supplied us before we left home. we had a dish of roast seal! some cakes were made by the cook, and the steward produced his best stores. for the evening, the division between the fore and aft cabins was removed, and there was free intercourse between officers and men; many a toast was drunk to the memory of friends at home, and at midnight a polar ball was improvised by a dance on the ice. the boatswain, the best musician of the party, seated himself with his hand-organ between the antlers of a reindeer which lay near the ship, and the men danced two and two on their novel flooring of hard ice! "such was our experience of a christmas in the north polar circle; but the uncertainties of arctic voyaging are great, and the two ships of our expedition made trial of the widely different fates which await the travellers in those frozen regions: and while we on the _germania_ were singularly fortunate in escaping accidents and in keeping our crew, in spite of some hardships, in sound health and good spirits, the _hansa_ was crushed by the ice, and her crew, after facing unheard-of dangers, and passing two hundred days on a block of ice, were barely rescued to return home." yet even to the crew of the ill-fated _hansa_ christmas brought some festivities. the tremendous gale which had raged for many days ceased just before the day, and the heavy fall of snow with which it terminated, and which had almost buried the black huts that the shipwrecked men had constructed for themselves upon the drifting icebergs from the _débris_ of the wreck, had produced a considerable rise in the temperature, and there was every indication that a season of calm might now be anticipated. the log-book of the _hansa_ thus describes the celebration of the festival:--"the tree was erected in the afternoon, while the greater part of the crew took a walk; and the lonely hut shone with wonderful brightness amid the snow. christmas upon a greenland iceberg! the tree was artistically put together of firwood and mat-weed, and dr. laube had saved a twist of wax-taper for the illumination. chains of coloured paper and newly-baked cakes were not wanting, and the men had made a knapsack and a revolver case as a present for the captain. we opened the leaden chests of presents from professor hochstetter and the geological society, and were much amused by their contents. each man had a glass of port wine; and we then turned over the old newspapers which we found in the chests, and drew lots for the presents, which consisted of small musical instruments such as fifes, jew's-harps, trumpets, &c., with draughts and other games, puppets, crackers, &c. in the evening we feasted on chocolate and gingerbread." "we observed the day very quietly," writes dr. laube in his diary. "if this christmas be the last we are to see, it was at least a cheerful one; but should a happy return home be decreed for us, the next will, we trust, be far brighter. may god so grant!" christmas in the crimea. the christmas of was a dismal one for the soldiers in the crimea, witnessing and enduring what lord john russell spoke of as "the horrible and heartrending scenes of that crimean winter." "thanks to general muddle," says a journal of the period, "the crimean christmas of was anything but what it ought to and might have been; and the knowledge that plenty of good things had been provided by thoughtful hearts at home, but which were anywhere but where they were wanted, did not add to the merriment of our poor overworked, underfed army; and although some desperate efforts were made to be jolly on dreary outpost and in uncomfortable trenches, they only resulted in miserable failure. the following christmas was doubly enjoyable by comparison. the stubborn fortress (sebastopol) had fallen at last to its more stubborn assailants; habit had deprived frost and snow of their terrors, and every hut ran over with hams, preserves, vegetables, and mysterious tins, till it resembled a grocer's store. the valleys of miscomia, too, were rich in mistletoe, to be had for the trouble of gathering; but few cared to undergo that trouble for the sake of what only reminded them of unattainable sweets, and made them sigh for the girls they had left behind them." in , messrs. macmillan & co. published a poem by h. r. f., entitled "christmas dawn, ," in which the writer pictures the festivities marred by war:-- "a happy christmas! happy! to whom? perchance to infancy, and innocent childhood, while the germ of sin, yet undeveloped, leaves a virgin soil for joy, and death and sorrow are but names. but who, that bears a mind matured to thought, a heart to feel, shall look abroad this day and speak of happiness? the church is deckt with festive garlands, and the sunbeams glance from glossy evergreens; the mistletoe pearl-studded, and the holly's lustrous bough gleaming with coral fruitage; but we muse of laurel blent with cypress. gaze we down yon crowded aisle? the mourner's dusky weeds sadden the eye; and they who wear them not have mourning in their hearts, or lavish tears of sympathy on griefs too deeply lodged for man's weak ministry. a happy christmas! ah me! how many hearths are desolate! how many a vacant seat awaits in vain the loved one who returns not! shall we drain the cheerful cup--a health to absent friends? whom do we pledge? the living or the dead?" thus did the poet, "sick at heart," explore "the realm of sorrow"; and then again he mused: "in humbler mood to hail the auspicious day, shine forth rejoicing in thy strength, o sun, shine through the dubious mists and tearful show'rs that darken hope's clear azure! christ is born, the life of those who wake, and those who sleep-- the day-spring from on high hath looked on us; and we, who linger militant on earth, are one in him, with those, the loved and lost, whose early graves keep the red field they won upon a stranger shore. ah! not in vain went up from many a wild crimean ridge the soldier's pray'r, responsive to the vows breathed far away in many an english home. not vain the awakened charities, that gush through countless channels--christian brotherhoods of mercy; and that glorious sister-band who sow by death's chill waters!--not in vain, my country! ever loved, but dearest now in this thine hour of sorrow, hast thou learnt to bow to him who chastens. we must weep-- we may rejoice in weeping" christmas in abyssinia. wherever englishmen are on the th of december, there is christmas. whether it be in the icy regions of the arctic zone, or in the sweltering heat of tropical sunshine, the coming round of the great feast brings with it to every englishman a hearty desire to celebrate it duly. and if this cannot be done in exactly home-fashion, the festival is kept as happily as circumstances will allow. in this spirit did our soldiers keep christmas in abyssinia, in , with the thermometer at seventy-five in the shade, and even here the edibles included at least one traditional dish--a joint of roast beef. there was also an abundance of spur-fowls, guinea-fowls, venison, mutton, &c., and the place in which the festive board was spread was decorated with branches of fir and such other substitutes for holly and mistletoe as could be found. christmas-keeping in india at different periods shows the same determination of our british soldiers to honour the christmas festival. in , the saviours of our indian empire very nearly lost their christmas. the army was encamped at intha, within sight of nepaul, waiting for the rain to clear off and the tents to dry, ere it moved on to drive the sepoys into the raptee. the skies cleared on christmas morning, and lord clyde was for marching at once, but relented in time to save the men's puddings from being spoiled--not only relented, but himself gave a christmas banquet, at which the favoured guests sat down to well-served tables laden with barons of beef, turkeys, mutton, game, fish, fowls, plum-puddings, mince-pies, &c. to allay the thirst such substantial fare created, appeared beakers of pale ale from burton and glasgow; porter from london and dublin; champagne, moselle, sherry, and old port, 'rather bothered by travelling twenty miles a day on a camel back.' following the chief's example, each regiment had a glorious spread, and throughout the wide expanse of tents sounds of rejoicing were heard, for the soldiers kept christmas right merrily. similarly, the british soldiers and sailors in south africa did their best to observe the christmas festival in good old english style, even during the sieges of ladysmith, kimberley, and mafeking, when provisions were to be had only at famine prices. the ingenious tommy atkins, in distant lands, has often found sylvan substitutes for mistletoe and holly, and native viands to take the place of plum-puddings and mince-pies, but it is not so easy to find substitutes for the social circles in old england, and when the time comes round for the christmas dance tommy's thoughts "return again to the girl i've left behind me." moreover, it sometimes falls to the lot of soldiers and war correspondents to spend their christmas in most outlandish places. mr. archibald forbes has left on record (in the _english illustrated magazine_, ) an interesting account of his own christmastide in the khyber pass. in his graphic style the intrepid war correspondent describes the "ride long and hard" which kinloch and he had through the khyber to jelalabad plain to fulfil "the tryst they had made to spend christmas day with the cheery comrades of sir sam browne's headquarter staff." they had an adventurous journey together from the dakka camp to jumrood, where forbes left kinloch with maude's division. further on, mr. forbes says: "i am not prepared to be definite, after five years, as to the number of plum-puddings forming that little hillock on the top of my dâk-gharry between jhelum and peshawur, on the apex of which sat the faithful john amidst a whirl of dust. at peshawur the heap of christmas gifts were loaded into the panniers of a camel, and the ship of the desert started on its measured solemn tramp up through the defiles of the khyber." then mr. forbes tells us how he joined kinloch again at general maude's headquarters at jumrood. kinloch "had not forgotten his tryst, but meanwhile there were military duties to be done." after the discharge of these "military duties," which included a night march to surprise a barbarous clan called zukkur-kehls, forbes and kinloch joined general tytler's column on its return march to dakka, because at dakka they would be nearer to their friends of sir sam browne's headquarters. "tytler determined to make his exit from the zukkur-kahl valley by a previously unexplored pass, toward which the force moved for its night's bivouac. about the entrance to the glen there was a fine forest of ilex and holly, large, sturdy, spreading trees, whence dangled long sprays of mistletoe; the mistletoe bough was here indeed, and christmas was close, but where the fair ones whom, under other circumstances, the amorous youth of our column would have so enthusiastically led under that spray which accords so sweet a license? the young ones prattled of those impossible joys; but the seniors, less frivolous, were concerned by the increasing narrowness of the gorge, and by the dropping fire that hung on our skirts as we entered it. however, there was but one casualty--a poor fellow of the th regiment had his thigh smashed by a bullet--and we spent the night under the ilex trees without further molestation.... it was christmas eve when we sat chatting with young beatson in his lonely post by the chardai streamlet; but a few hours of morning riding would carry us to jellalabad whither sir sam browne's camp had been advanced, and we were easy on the score of being true to tryst. as in the cold grey dawn we resumed our journey, leaving the young officer who had been our host to concern himself with the watchfulness of his picquets and the vigilance of his patrols, there was a sound of unintentional mockery in the conventional wish of a 'merry christmas' to the gallant lad, and there was a wistfulness in his answering smile.... the road to the encampment, the white canvas of whose tents showed through the intervening hills, was traversed at a hand gallop; and presently kinloch and myself found ourselves in the street of the headquarter camp, shaking hands with friends and comrades, and trying to reply to a medley of disjointed questions. the bugles were sounding for the christmas day church parade as we finished a hurried breakfast. out there on the plain the british troops of the division were standing in hollow square, the officers grouped in the centre.... the headquarter street we found swept and garnished, the flagstaff bedecked with holly, and a regimental band playing 'home, sweet home.' dear old sir sam browne did not believe in luxury when on campaign, but now for the first time i saw him at least comfortable.... the mess anteroom was the camp street outside the dining tent; and at the fashionable late hour of eight we 'went in' to dinner, to the strains of the _roast beef of old england_. it was a right jovial feast, and the most cordial good-fellowship prevailed. he would have been a cynical epicurean who would have criticised the appointments; the banquet itself was above all cavil. rummaging among some old papers the other day, i found the _menu_, which deserves to be quoted: 'soup--julienne. fish--whitebait (from the cabul river). entrées--cotelettes aux champignons, poulets à la mayonaise. joints--ham and fowls, roast beef, roast saddle of mutton, boiled brisket of beef, boiled leg of mutton and caper sauce. curry--chicken. sweets--lemon jelly, blancmange, apricot tart, plum-pudding. grilled sardines, cheese fritters, cheese, dessert.' truth compels the avowal that there was no table-linen, nor was the board resplendent with plate or gay with flowers. table crockery was deficient, or to be more accurate, there was none. all the dishes were of metal, and the soup was eaten, or rather drunk, out of mugs and iron teacups. but it tasted none the worse on this account, and let it be recorded that there _were_ champagne glasses, while between every two guests a portly magnum reared its golden head. except 'the queen,' of course, there were but two toasts after the feast--one was 'absent friends,' drunk in a wistful silence, and the other, the caterer's health, greeted with vociferous enthusiasm. a few fields off the wood had been collecting all day for the christmas camp-fire of the th hussars, and by ten o'clock the blaze of it was mounting high into the murky gloom. a right merry and social gathering it was round the bright glow of this yule log in a far-off land. the flames danced on the wide circle of bearded faces, on the tangled fleeces of the postheens, on the gold braid of the forage caps, on the sombre hoods of beshliks.... the songs ranged from gay to grave; the former mood in the ascendency. but occasionally there was sung a ditty, the associations with which brought it about that there came something strangely like a tear into the voice of the singer, and that a yearning wistfulness fell upon the faces of the listeners. the bronzed troopers in the background shaded with their hands the fire-flash from their eyes; and as the familiar homely strain ceased that recalled home and love and trailed at the heart strings till the breast felt to heave and the tears to rise, there would be a little pause of eloquent silence which told how thoughts had gone astraying half across the globe to the loved ones in dear old england, and were loath to come back again to the rum and the camp fire in jellalabad plain. ah, how many stood or sat around that camp fire that were never to see old england more? the snow had not melted on the sufed koh when half a squadron of the troopers were drowned in the treacherous cabul river. no brighter soul or sweeter singer round that fire than monty slade; but the life went out of monty slade with his face to the foe and his wet sword grasped in a soldier-grip; and he lies under the palm trees by the wells of el teb." christmas in canada. in canada the severe and long-continued frosts convert a good deal of land and water into fields of ice, and skating is a very popular amusement of christmastide. sleighing is also very fashionable, and the large tracts of country covered with snow afford ample scope for the pastime. the jingle of the sleigh bells is heard in all the principal thoroughfares which at the season of the great winter festival present quite an animated appearance. the ears of the sleigh drivers are usually covered either by the cap or with a comforter, which in very cold weather is also wrapped over the mouth and nose. "christmas day," says an english colonist, "is spent quietly in our own houses. new year's day is the day of general rejoicing, when every one either visits or receives their friends: and so, thinking of the merry times we have had in old england, and comparing them with the quietness of to-day, we feel more like strangers in a strange land than ever before. "as a special treat, we are to have a real english christmas dinner to-day, and our housekeeper has made a wonderful plum-pudding. the turkey is already steaming upon the table, and we soon fall to work upon him. he is well cooked, but there seems to be something wrong with his legs, which are so tough and sinewy that we come to the conclusion that he must have been training for a walking match. the rest of the dinner passes off very well, with the exception of the plum-pudding, which has to be brought to the table in a basin, as it firmly refuses to bind. "after dinner we retire to the sitting-room, and sit round the stove talking, while those of us addicted to the fragrant weed have a quiet smoke. thus passes christmas afternoon. "tea-time soon comes round, and after we have refreshed ourselves, we resolve to end the day by paying a visit to a neighbour who possesses an american organ, and christmas evening closes in to the music of those sweet old carols which that evening are heard over the whole world wherever an english colony is to be found." christmas in australia. christmas festivities in australia are carried on in what we should call "summer weather." there is no lack of good cheer and good living, but cold and snow are at this season unknown, and skating and snowballing, as a consequence, are sports unheard of at christmastide by the youth in the antipodes. large parties and excursions are often arranged for spending a short time in the parks and fields, and christmas picnics partake much of the character of english "gipsy-parties." the inhabitants being chiefly english, many of the ceremonies customary in english homes are observed, and the changes that are made are enforced for the most part by the difference in climate, and by the altered circumstances under which the various festivities are arranged. in "a summer christmas," douglas b. w. sladen thus describes the australian festivities:-- "the christmas dinner was at two, and all that wealth or pains could do was done to make it a success; and marks of female tastefulness, and traces of a lady's care, were noticeable everywhere. the port was old, the champagne dry, and every kind of luxury which melbourne could supply was there. they had the staple christmas fare, roast beef and turkey (this was wild), mince-pies, plum-pudding, rich and mild, one for the ladies, one designed for mr. forte's severer mind, were on the board, yet in a way it did not seem like christmas day with no gigantic beech yule-logs blazing between the brass fire-dogs, and with ° in the shade on the thermometer displayed. nor were there christmas offerings of tasteful inexpensive things, like those which one in england sends at christmas to his kin and friends, though the professor with him took a present of a recent book for lil and madge and mrs. forte, and though a card of some new sort had been arranged by lil to face at breakfast everybody's place. when dinner ended nearly all stole off to lounges in the hall. * * * * * all save the two old folks and lil, who made their hearts expand and thrill by playing snatches, slow and clear, of carols they'd been used to hear some half a century ago at high wick manor, when the two were bashful maidens: they talked on, of england and what they had done on byegone christmas nights at home, of friends beyond the northern foam, and friends beyond that other sea, yet further--whither ceaselessly travellers follow the old track, but whence no messenger comes back." christmas in new zealand. in , we received a letter from mr. w. m. stanton, of nelson, new zealand, giving the following interesting account of the colonists' observance of christmas:-- "and now, as to christmas, i wish i could express all i feel on this peculiarly english season of 'peace and goodwill.' i remember the picturesque snow (seen here only on the distant blue mountain tops), the icy stalactites pendant from the leafless branches, the twitter of the robin redbreast, the holly, and the mistletoe, decorated homes, redolent with the effects of the festive cooking, and the warm blazing firelight, the meeting of families and of friends, the waits, the grand old peals from the belfries; but, alas, here these childhood associations are dispelled, half broken, and we acclimatised denizens adapt our festivities to other modes--not that we forget the christmas season, but enjoy it differently, as i will briefly tell you, as you ask, 'how we spend christmas in new zealand.' first, our ladies decorate the churches for the christmas services, not with the evergreens of old exclusively; they do indeed affect the holly, ivy, and (new zealand) mistletoe, but they make up with umbrageous and rich ferns, lachipoden, lauristinas, portugal laurels, and our own beautiful evergreen, ngaio, and with all the midsummer flowers at command; then the clerk, the storeman, the merchant, and the mechanic indulge in 'trips,' or day excursions, in small steamboats, to the neighbouring bays surrounding small townships, and villages on the coast. others again, take the train for a day's outing and play quoits, rounders, lawn tennis, and the like; the sportsman, perhaps, preferring his gun and his dog; families, again, are picnic-mad, for your colonist can rival the cockney any day for making his holiday in the country. it may be to 'the rocks' he goes to watch his youngsters paddling in the rolling tide, or to the toil of clambering up the 'dim mountain,' which seems to suit their hardy lungs better than the shade of the 'fern glen,' and a journey of eighteen miles to the maori pa is as nothing. the union company's fine coasting steamships run passengers at half fares at this season, and the result is an interchange of visits between the dwellers in nelson, wellington, marlboro', and wanjani, amongst whom there is much rivalry and more friendship. then there is the christmas regatta, the performance of the 'messiah' by the musical societies, and the inevitable evening dances, and thus the new zealand christmas is spent. "i am reminded, by my young clerk, that the mail is about closing, and that this letter must also close, if it is to go to-day, and thus i must omit the mention of the new year's festivities, which properly belong to our numerous scottish fellow settlers who in their own country ignore christmas as a popish superstition; they are, however, now becoming anglicised ('englified' they call it) in their habits, and similarly the midland county men of england enter into their caledonian custom, from the harmless orgies of 'hagmenae' to the frantic capers of 'gillie cullum,' to the skirl of the panting piper." christmas at the sandwich islands. in "a voyage in the _sunbeam_," lady brassey gives an interesting account of the keeping of christmas, , on the sandwich islands. we quote the following extracts:-- "twenty minutes' hard riding brought us to the door of the 'volcano house,' from which issued the comforting light of a large wood fire, reaching half way up the chimney. "everything at this inn is most comfortable, though the style is rough and ready. the interior is just now decorated for christmas, with wreaths, and evergreens, and ferns, and branches of white plumes, not unlike _reva-reva_, made from the path of the silver grass. "the grandeur of the view in the direction of the volcano increased as the evening wore on. the fiery cloud above the present crater grew in size and depth of colour; the extinct crater glowed red in thirty or forty different places; and clouds of white vapour issued from every crack and crevice in the ground, adding to the sulphurous smell with which the atmosphere was laden. our room faced the volcano: there were no blinds, and i drew back the curtains and lay watching the splendid scene until i fell asleep. "_sunday, december th (christmas eve)_--i was up at four o'clock to gaze once more on the wondrous spectacle that lay before me. the molten lava still glowed in many places, the red cloud over the fiery lake was bright as ever, and steam was slowly ascending in every direction over hill and valley, till, as the sun rose, it became difficult to distinguish clearly the sulphurous vapours from the morning mists. we walked down to the sulphur banks, about a quarter of a mile from the 'volcano house,' and burnt our gloves and boots in our endeavours to procure crystals, the beauty of which generally disappeared after a very short exposure to the air. we succeeded, however, in finding a few good specimens, and, by wrapping them at once in paper and cotton-wool and putting them into a bottle, hope to bring them home uninjured. "_monday, december th (christmas day)_--turning in last night was the work of a very few minutes, and this morning i awoke perfectly refreshed and ready to appreciate anew the wonders of the prospect that met my eyes. the pillar of fire was still distinctly visible, when i looked out from my window, though it was not so bright as when i had last seen it, but even as i looked it began to fade and gradually disappeared. at the same moment a river of glowing lava issued from the side of the bank we had climbed with so much difficulty yesterday, and slowly but surely overflowed the ground we had walked over. you may imagine the feelings with which we gazed upon this startling phenomenon, which had it occurred a few hours earlier, might have caused the destruction of the whole party. * * * * * "it would, i think, be difficult to imagine a more interesting and exciting mode of spending christmas eve than yesterday has taught us, or a stranger situation in which to exchange our christmas greetings than beneath the grass roof of an inn on the edge of a volcano in the remote sandwich islands. * * * * * "the ride down to hilo was as dull and monotonous as our upward journey had been. at last we reached the pier, where we found the usual little crowd waiting to see us off. the girls who had followed us when we first landed came forward shyly when they thought they were unobserved, and again encircled me with _leis_ of gay and fragrant flowers. the custom of decorating themselves with wreaths on every possible occasion is in my eyes a charming one, and i like the inhabitants of polynesia for their love of flowers. "the whole town was _en fête_ to-day. natives were riding about in pairs, in the cleanest of bright cotton dresses and the freshest of _leis_ and garlands. our own men from the yacht contributed not a little to the gaiety of the scene. they were all on shore, and the greater part of them were galloping about on horseback, tumbling off, scrambling on again, laughing, flirting, joking, and enjoying themselves generally after a fashion peculiar to english sailors. as far as we know the only evil result of all this merriment was that the doctor received a good many applications for diachylon plaster in the course of the evening, to repair various 'abrasions of the cuticle,' as he expressed it. "i think at least half the population of hilo had been on board the yacht in the course of the day, as a christmas treat. at last we took a boat and went off too, accompanied by mr. lyman. the appearance of the 'sunbeam' from the shore was very gay, and as we approached it became more festive still. all her masts were tipped with sugar-canes in bloom. her stern was adorned with flowers, and in the arms of the figurehead was a large bouquet. she was surrounded with boats, the occupants of which cheered us heartily as we rode alongside. the whole deck was festooned with tropical plants and flowers, and the decorations of the cabins were even more beautiful and elaborate. i believe all hands had been hard at work ever since we left to produce this wonderful effect, and every garden in hilo had furnished a contribution to please and surprise us on our return. "the choir from hilo came out in boats in the evening, sang all sorts of songs, sacred and secular, and cheered everybody till they were hoarse. after this, having had a cold dinner, in order to save trouble, and having duly drunk the health of our friends at home, we all adjourned to the saloon, to assist in the distribution of some christmas presents--a ceremony which afforded great delight to the children, and which was equally pleasing to the elder people and to the crew, if one may judge from their behaviour on the occasion. "then we sat on deck, gazing at the cloud of fire over kilauea, and wondering if the appearance of the crater could ever be grander than it was last night, when we were standing on its brim. "so ended christmas day, , at hilo, in hawaii. god grant that there may be many more as pleasant for us in the future!" christmas on board the "sunbeam," . "the wind is chill, but let it whistle as it will we'll keep our christmas merry still." in "sunshine and storm in the east, or cruises to cyprus and constantinople," lady brassey gives an interesting account of the celebration of christmas on board the _sunbeam_, between malta and marseilles, december , :--"we had service early and then spent a long busy morning in arranging all the presents for the children, servants, and crew, and in decorating the cabin. we could not manage any holly, but we had carefully preserved one bough of mistletoe from artaki bay, and had brought on board at malta baskets full of flowers, so that all the pictures, lamps, and even walls, were wreathed with festoons of bougainvillæa, ivy, and other creeping plants; while in every available corner were placed, vases, bowls, and soup-plates, containing flowers. if not exactly 'gay with holly-berries,' so dear to english hearts from their association with yule-tide at home, the general appearance of the cabins was highly satisfactory. in the meantime they had been busy in the kitchen and pantry departments, preparing all sorts of good things for dinner, and pretty things for dessert, in order that the crew and servants might enjoy a more sumptuous repast than usual. a christmas tree, a snow man, or an ice cave, for the distribution of presents, was not within the limit of our resources; but we decorated our tables and sideboards with bright shawls and scarves, and wreathed and divided the surface of each with garlands of flowers, placing in every division a pretty christmas card, bearing the name of the recipient of the present, which was hidden away among the flowers beneath.... for the men there was plenty of tobacco, besides books and useful things; for the children toys; and for ourselves, slippers and little remembrances of various kinds, some sent from home to meet us, others recent purchases. the distribution over, one or two speeches were made, and mutual congratulations and good wishes were exchanged. then the crew and servants retired to enjoy the, to them, all-important event of the day--dinner and dessert. after our own late dinner, we thought of those near and dear to us at home, and drank to the health of 'absent friends.'" a missionary's christmas in china. in a letter from tsing cheu fu chefoo, december , , the rev. a. g. jones, baptist missionary, says:-- "mr. dawson asks how englishmen spend christmas in china. well, it depends. some spend it at the ports dog-racing and eating pudding--having a night of it. the missionaries generally take no notice of it. in our mission we hold one of the semi-annual dedication-of-children services on christmas. we think it a very appropriate day for the recognition of the sacredness of the gift of trust of children. the idea is a chinese one, originating with one of our christians, and we adopted it as the day for the custom. tomorrow will be christmas day, and i have come out twenty miles this evening to hold a service of that kind with the semi-annual communion as it happens. it will be a cold, cheerless room in a clay-built cabin down in the corner of a bare valley in a trap and basalt district with sparse vegetation and a bare aspect. a cold spot with a handful of christians, bearing their testimony alone out on the margin of our field of work. i hope to see or patients up to sundown, and then have worship with them at night. that will be my christmas. this evening--in the city--all the children and our wives are having a christmas tree in the theological lecture-room, and on tuesday next i guess we'll have our dinner. john bull, paddy, sandy, and taffy all seem to agree in _that_ feature. my sunday will only be a sample of others. so it goes--working away. now i must say goodbye. many thanks and many good wishes." a visit to christmas island. letters were received in december, , from h.m.s. _egeria_, commander pelham aldrich, containing particulars of a visit she had recently made to christmas island, which she was ordered to explore for scientific purposes. christmas island is situated in the indian ocean, in latitude ° south, longitude ° ' east; it is , feet above the sea, is twelve miles long and eight miles broad. the officers and men told off for exploring purposes found that the whole place was composed of coral and rock; notwithstanding this, however, it is covered almost completely with trees and shrubs, the trees, which are of large dimensions, seeming to grow literally out of the rock itself, earth surfaces being conspicuous by their absence. it is uninhabited by human beings, nor could any traces of animals be discovered, but seabirds swarm over every part of the island, and about four hundred wood pigeons were shot by the explorers while they remained there. no fruits or vegetable matter fit for consumption could, however, be found, nor the existence of any supply of fresh water, and the belief is that the vegetation of the island is dependent for nourishment on the dews and the heavy rains that fall. christmas in america. writing just before the christmas festival of , mr. howard paul says the general manner of celebrating christmas day is much the same wherever professors of the christian faith are found; and the united states, as the great transatlantic offshoot of saxon principles, would be the first to conserve the traditional ceremonies handed down from time immemorial by our canonical progenitors of the east. but every nation has its idiocratic notions, minute and otherwise, and it is not strange that the americans, as a creative people, have peculiar and varied ways of their own in keeping this, the most remarkable day in the calendar. now and then they add a supplemental form to the accepted code--characteristic of the mutable and progressive spirit of the people--though there still exists the church service, the conventional carol, the evergreen decorations, the plum-puddings, the pantomime, and a score of other "demonstrations" that never can legitimately be forgotten. society generally seems to apportion the day thus: church in the morning, dinner in the afternoon, and amusements in the evening. the christmas dinners concentrate the scattered members of families, who meet together to break bread in social harmony, and exchange those home sentiments that cement the happiness of kindred. to-day the prodigal once more returns to the paternal roof; the spendthrift forsakes his boon companions; the convivialist deserts the wine-cup. the beautiful genius of domestic love has triumphed, and who can foresee the blessed results? parties, balls, and fêtes, with their endless routine of gaieties, are looked forward to, as pleasures are, the wide world over; and all classes, from highest to lowest, have their modes of enjoyment marked out. preparation follows preparation in festal succession. sorrow hides her gorgon head, care may betake itself to any dreary recesses, for christmas must be a gala! there is generally snow on the ground at this time; if nature is amiable, there is sure to be; and a christmas sleigh-ride is one of those american delights that defy rivalry. there is no withstanding the merry chime of the bells and a fleet passage over the snow-skirted roads. town and country look as if they had arisen in the morning in robes of unsullied white. every housetop is spangled with the bright element; soft flakes are coquetting in the atmosphere, and a pure mantle has been spread on all sides, that fairly invites one to disport upon its gleaming surface. we abide quietly within our pleasant home on either the eve or night of christmas. how the sleighs glide by in rapid glee, the music of the bells and the songs of the excursionists falling on our ears in very wildness. we strive in vain to content ourselves. we glance at the cheerful fire, and hearken to the genial voices around us. we philosophise, and struggle against the tokens of merriment without; but the restraint is torture. we, too, must join the revellers, and have a sleigh-ride. girls, get on your fur; wrap yourselves up warmly in the old bear-skin; hunt up the old guitar; the sleigh is at the door, the moon is beaming. the bells tinkle and away we go! an old english legend was transplanted many years ago on the shores of america, that took root and flourished with wonderful luxuriance, considering it was not indigenous to the country. probably it was taken over to new york by one of the primitive knickerbockers, or it might have clung to some of the drowsy burgomasters who had forsaken the pictorial tiles of dear old amsterdam about the time of peter de laar, or il bombaccia, as the italians call him, got into disgrace in rome. however this may be, certain it is that santa claus, or st. nicholas, the kind patron-saint of the juveniles, makes his annual appearance on christmas eve, for the purpose of dispensing gifts to all good children. this festive elf is supposed to be a queer little creature that descends the chimney, viewlessly, in the deep hours of night, laden with gifts and presents, which he bestows with no sparing hand, reserving to himself a supernatural discrimination that he seems to exercise with every satisfaction. before going to bed the children hang their newest stockings near the chimney, or pin them to the curtains of the bed. midnight finds a world of hosiery waiting for favours; and the only wonder is that a single santa claus can get around among them all. the story goes that he never misses one, provided it belongs to a deserving youngster, and morning is sure to bring no reproach that the christmas wizard has not nobly performed his wondrous duties. we need scarcely enlighten the reader as to who the real santa claus is. every indulgent parent contributes to the pleasing deception, though the juveniles are strong in their faith of their generous holiday patron. the following favourite lines graphically describe a visit of st. nicholas, and, being in great vogue with the young people of america, are fondly reproduced from year to year:-- "'twas the night before christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; the stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in the hope that st. nicholas soon would be there. the children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugar plums danced through their heads; and mamma in her 'kerchief, and i in my cap, had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap, when out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, i sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. the way to the window, i flew like a flash, tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash; the moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below. when what to my wondering eyes should appear but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer; with a little old driver, so lively and quick, i knew in a moment it must be st. nick. more rapid than eagles his coursers they came, and he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name-- now dasher! now dancer! now prancer! now vixen! on comet! on cupid! on donder and blixen! to the top of the porch, to the top of the wall! now dash away! dash away! dash away all!' as the leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky; so up to the house-top the coursers they flew, with the sleigh full of toys, and st. nicholas too. and then in a twinkling i heard on the roof, the prancing and pawing of each little hoof; as i drew in my head and was turning around, down the chimney st. nicholas came with a bound. he was dressed all in furs from his head to his foot and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot. a bundle of toys he had flung on his back, and he looked like a pedlar just opening his pack. his eyes, how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry! his cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry; his droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, and the beard of his chin was as white as the snow. the stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath. he had a broad face and a little round belly that shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly. he was chubby and plump--a right jolly old elf; and i laughed when i saw him, in spite of myself. a wink of his eye and a twist of his head soon gave me to know i had nothing to dread. he spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, and filled all the stockings--then turned with a jerk, and laying his finger aside of his nose, and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose; he sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, and away they all flew like the down of a thistle. but i heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, 'happy christmas to all, and to all a good night!'" a curious feature of an american christmas is the egg-nogg and free lunch, distributed at all the hotels and cafés. a week at least before the th fanciful signs are suspended over the fountains of the bars (the hotel-keepers are quite classic in their ideas) announcing superb lunch and egg-noggs on christmas day. this invitation is sure to meet with a large response from the amateur epicures about town, who, ever on the _qui vive_ for a banquet gratis, flock to the festive standard, since it has never been found a difficult matter to give things away, from the time old heliogabalus gastronomed in phoenicia up to the present hour. a splendid hall in one of the principal hotels, at this moment, occurs to us. a table, the length of the apartment, is spread and furnished with twenty made dishes peculiar to the christmas _cuisine_. there are _chorodens_ and _fricassees_, _ragoûts_ and _calipee_, of rapturous delicacy. each dish is labelled, and attended by a black servant, who serves its contents on very small white gilt-edged plates. at the head of the table a vast bowl, ornamented with indescribable chinese figures, contains the egg-nogg--a palatable compound of milk, eggs, brandy, and spices, nankeenish in colour, with froth enough on its surface to generate any number of venuses, if the old peloponnesian anecdote is worth remembering at all. over the egg-nogg mine host usually officiates, all smiles and benignity, pouring the rich draught with miraculous dexterity into cut-glass goblets, and passing it to the surrounding guests with profuse hand. on this occasion the long range of fancy drinks are forgotten. sherry-cobblers, mint-juleps, gin-slings, and punches, are set aside in order that the sway of the christmas draught may be supreme. free lunches are extremely common in the united states, what are called "eleven o'clock snacks" especially; but the accompaniment of egg-nogg belongs unequivocally to the death of the year. the presentation of "boxes" and souvenirs is the same in america as in england, the token of remembrance having an inseparable alliance with the same period. everybody expects to give and receive. a month before the event the fancy stores are crowded all day long with old and young in search of suitable _souvenirs_, and every object is purchased, from costliest gems to the tawdriest _babiole_ that may get into the market. if the weather should be fine, the principal streets are thronged with ladies shopping in sleighs; and hither and thither sleds shoot by, laden with parcels of painted toys, instruments of mock music and septuagenarian dread, from a penny trumpet to a sheepskin drum. christmas seems to be a popular period among the young folk for being mated, and a surprising number approach the altar this morning. whether it is that orange-flowers and bridal gifts are admirably adapted to the time, or that a longer lease of happiness is ensured from the joyous character of the occasion, we are not sufficiently learned in hymeneal lore to announce. the christmas week, however, is a merry one for the honeymoon, as little is thought of but mirth and gaiety until the dawning new year soberly suggests that we should put aside our masquerade manners. in drawing-room amusements society has a wealth of pleasing indoor pastimes. we remember the sententious question _réunions_, the hilarious surprise parties, fairy-bowl, and hunt-the-slipper. we can never forget the vagabond calathumpians, who employ in their bands everything inharmonious, from a fire-shovel to a stewpan, causing more din than the demons down under the sea ever dreamed of. what, then, between the sleigh-rides, the bell-melodies, old santa claus and his fictions, the egg-nogg and lunches, the weddings and the willingness to be entertained, the americans find no difficulty in enjoying christmas day. old forms and new notions come in for a share of observances; and the young country, in a glow of good humour, with one voice exclaims, "le bon temps vienara!" president harrison as "santa claus." writing from new york on december , , a correspondent says: "president harrison was seen by your correspondent at the white house yesterday, and was asked what he thought about christmas and its religious and social influences. the president expressed himself willing to offer his opinions, and said: 'christmas is the most sacred religious festival of the year, and should be an occasion of general rejoicing throughout the land, from the humblest citizen to the highest official, who, for the time being, should forget or put behind him his cares and annoyances, and participate in the spirit of seasonable festivity. we intend to make it a happy day at the white house--all the members of my family, representing four generations, will gather around the big table in the state dining-room to have an old-fashioned christmas dinner. besides mrs. harrison, there will be her father, dr. scott, mr. and mrs. m'kee and their children, mrs. dimmick and lieutenant and mrs. parker. i am an ardent believer in the duty we owe to ourselves as christians to make merry for children at christmas time, and we shall have an old-fashioned christmas tree for the grandchildren upstairs; and i shall be their santa claus myself. if my influence goes for aught in this busy world let me hope that my example may be followed in every family in the land.' "christmas is made as much of in this country as it is in england, if not more. the plum-pudding is not universal, but the christmas tree is in almost every home. even in the tenement districts of the east side, inhabited by the labouring and poorer classes, these vernal emblems of the anniversary are quite as much in demand as in other quarters, and if they and the gifts hung upon them are less elaborate than their west side congeners, the household enthusiasm which welcomes them is quite as marked. as in london, the streets are flooded with christmas numbers of the periodicals, which, it may be remarked, are this year more elaborate in design and execution than ever. the use of christmas cards has also obtained surprising proportions. a marked feature of this year's christmas is the variety and elegance of offerings after the paris fashion, which are of a purely ornamental and but slight utilitarian character. there are bonbonnières in a variety of forms, some of them very magnificent and expensive; while the christmas cards range in prices from a cent to ten dollars each. these bonbonnières, decked with expensive ribbon or hand-painted with designs of the season, attain prices as high as forty dollars each, and are in great favour among the wealthy classes. flowers are also much used, and, just now, are exceedingly costly. "while the usual religious ceremonies of the day are generally observed here, the mass of the community are inclined to treat the occasion as a festive rather than a solemn occasion, and upon festivity the whole population at the present time seems bent." "merry christmas" with the negroes. a journalist who has been amongst the negroes in the southern states of america thus describes their christmas festivities:-- "christmas in the south of the united states is a time-honoured holiday season, as ancient as the settlement of the cavalier colonies themselves. we may imagine it to have been imported from 'merrie england' by the large-hearted papist, lord baltimore, into maryland, and by that chivalric group of virginian colonists, of whom the central historical figure is the famous captain john smith, of pocahontas memory. perhaps christmas was even the more heartily celebrated among these true papist and church of england settlers from the disgust which they felt at the stern contempt in which the natal day was held by 'stiff-necked puritans' of new england. at least, while in new england the pilgrims were wont to work with exceptional might on christmas day, to show their detestation of it, traditions are still extant of the jovial southern merrymaking of the festival. christmas, with many of the old england customs imported to the new soil, derived new spirit and enjoyment from customs which had their origin in the colonies themselves. above all was it the gala season--the period to be looked forward to and revelled in--of the negroes. slavery, with all its horrors and wickedness, had at least some genial features; and the latitude which the masters gave to the slaves at christmas time, the freedom with which the blacks were wont to concentrate a year's enjoyment into the christmas week, was one of these. in washington, where until the war slavery existed in a mild and more civilised form, the negro celebrations of christmas were the peculiar and amusing feature of the season. and many of these customs, which grew up amid slavery, have survived that institution. the washington negroes, free, have pretty much the same zest for their time-honoured amusements which they had when under the dominion of the oligarchy. christmas is still their great gala and occasion for merry-making, and the sable creatures thoroughly understand the art of having a good time, being superior, at least in this respect, to many a _blasé_ prince and court noble distracted with _ennui_. those who have seen the 'minstrels' may derive some idea, though but a slight one, of the negro pastimes and peculiarities. they are, above all, a social, enthusiastic, whole-souled race; they have their own ideas of rank and social caste, and they have a humour which is homely, but thoroughly genial, and quite the monopoly of their race. they insist on the whole of christmas week for a holiday. 'missus' must manage how she can. to insist on chaining them down in the kitchen during that halcyon time would stir up blank rebellion. dancing and music are their favourite christmas recreations; they manage both with a will. in the city suburbs there are many modest little frame-houses inhabited by the blacks; now and then a homely inn kept by a dusky landlord. here in christmas time you will witness many jolly and infectiously pleasant scenes. there is a 'sound of revelry by night.' you are free to enter, and observe near by the countless gyrations of the negro cotillon, the intricate and deftly executed jig, the rude melody of banjos and 'cornstalk fiddles.' they are always proud to have 'de white folks' for spectators and applauders, and will give you the best seat, and will outdo themselves in their anxiety to show off at their best before you. you will be astonished to observe the scrupulous neatness of the men, the gaudy and ostentatious habiliments of 'de ladies.' the negroes have an intense ambition to imitate the upper classes of white society. they will study the apparel of a well-dressed gentleman, and squander their money on 'swallow-tail' coats, high dickeys, white neckties, and the most elaborate arts of their dusky barbers. the women are even more imitative of their mistresses. ribbons, laces, and silks adorn them, on festive occasions, of the most painfully vivid colours, and fashioned in all the extravagance of negro taste. not less anxious are they to imitate the manners of aristocracy. the excessive chivalry and overwhelming politeness of the men towards the women is amazing. they make gallant speeches in which they insert as many of the longest and most learned words as they can master, picked up at random, and not always peculiarly adapted to the use made of them. their excitement in the dance, and at the sound of music, grows as intense as does their furor in a methodist revival meeting. they have, too, dances and music peculiar to themselves--jigs and country dances which seem to have no method, yet which are perfectly adapted to and rhythmic with the inspiring abrupt thud of the banjo and the bones. as they dance, they shout and sing, slap their hands and knees, and lose themselves in the enthusiasm of the moment. the negroes look forward to christmas not less as the season for present-giving than that of frolicking and jollity. early in the morning they hasten upstairs, and catch 'massa' and 'missus' and 'de chillun' with a respectful but eager 'merry christmas,' and are sure to get in return a new coat or pair of boots, a gingham dress, or ear-rings more showy than expensive. they have saved up, too, a pittance from their wages, to expend in a souvenir for 'dinah' or 'pompey,' the never-to-be-forgotten belle or sweetheart." christmas in france. the following account of christmas in france, in , is given by an english writer of the period:-- "the habits and customs of parisians vary much from those of our own metropolis at all times, but at no time more than at this festive season. an englishman in paris, who had been for some time without referring to his almanac, would not know christmas day from another day by the appearance of the capital. it is indeed set down as a _jour de fête_ in the calendar, but all the ordinary business life is transacted; the streets are as usual, crowded with waggons and coaches; the shops, with few exceptions, are open, although on other _fête_ days the order for closing them is rigorously enforced, and if not attended to, a fine levied; and at the churches nothing extraordinary is going forward. all this is surprising in a catholic country, which professes to pay much attention to the outward rites of religion. "on _christmas eve_, indeed, there is some bustle for a midnight mass, to which immense numbers flock, as the priests, on this occasion, get up a showy spectacle which rivals the theatres. the altars are dressed with flowers, and the churches decorated profusely; but there is little in all this to please men who have been accustomed to the john bull mode of spending the evening. the good english habit of meeting together to forgive offences and injuries, and to cement reconciliations, is here unknown. the french listen to the church music, and to the singing of their choirs, which is generally excellent, but they know nothing of the origin of the day and of the duties which it imposes. the english residents in paris, however, do not forget our mode of celebrating this day. acts of charity from the rich to the needy, religious attendance at church, and a full observance of hospitable rites, are there witnessed. paris furnishes all the requisites for a good pudding, and the turkeys are excellent, though the beef is not to be displayed as a prize production. "on _christmas day_ all the english cooks in paris are in full business. the queen of cooks, however, is harriet dunn, of the boulevard. as sir astley cooper among the cutters of limbs, and d'egville among the cutters of capers, so is harriet dunn among the professors of one of the most necessary, and in its results most gratifying professions in existence; her services are secured beforehand by special retainers; and happy is the peer who can point to his pudding, and declare that it is of the true dunn composition. her fame has even extended to the provinces. for some time previous to christmas day, she forwards puddings in cases to all parts of the country, ready cooked and fit for the table, after the necessary warming. all this is, of course, for the english. no prejudice can be stronger than that of the french against plum-pudding--a frenchman will dress like an englishman, swear like an englishman, and get drunk like an englishman; but if you would offend him for ever compel him to eat plum-pudding. a few of the leading restaurateurs, wishing to appear extraordinary, have _plomb-pooding_ upon their cartes, but in no instance is it ever ordered by a frenchman. everybody has heard the story of st. louis--henri qautre, or whoever else it might be--who, wishing to regale the english ambassador on christmas day with a plum-pudding, procured an excellent recipe for making one, which he gave to his cook, with strict injunctions that it should be prepared with due attention to all particulars. the weight of the ingredients, the size of the copper, the quantity of water, the duration of time, everything was attended to except one trifle--the king forgot the cloth, and the pudding was served up, like so much soup in immense tureens, to the surprise of the ambassador, who was, however, too well bred to express his astonishment. louis xviii., either to show his contempt of the prejudices of his countrymen, or to keep up a custom which suits his palate, has always an enormous pudding on christmas day, the remains of which, when it leaves the table, he requires to be eaten by the servants, _bon gré, mauvais gré_; but in this instance even the commands of sovereignty are disregarded, except by the numerous english in his service, consisting of several valets, grooms, coachmen, &c., besides a great number of ladies' maids in the service of the duchesses of angouleme and berri, who very frequently partake of the dainties of the king's table." in his "year book, ," hone says that at rouen, after the _te deum_, in the nocturnal office or vigil of christmas, the ecclesiastics celebrated the "office of the shepherds" in the following manner:-- "the image of the virgin mary was placed in a stable prepared behind the altar. a boy from above, before the choir, in the likeness of an angel, announced the nativity to certain canons or vicars, who entered as shepherds through the great door of the choir, clothed in tunicks and amesses. many boys in the vaults of the church, like angels, then began the '_gloria in excelsis_.' the shepherds, hearing this, advanced to the stable, singing '_peace, goodwill_,' &c. as soon as they entered it, two priests in dalmaticks, as if women (quasi obstetrices) who were stationed at the stable, said, 'whom seek ye?' the shepherds answered, according to the angelic annunciation, 'our saviour christ.' the women then opening the curtain exhibited the boy, saying, 'the little one is here as the prophet isaiah said.' they then showed the mother, saying, 'behold the virgin,' &c. upon these exhibitions they bowed and worshipped the boy, and saluted his mother. the office ended by their returning to the choir, and singing, alleluia, &c."[ ] christmas day in besieged paris. "christmas, paris, "_sunday, dec. , , th day of the siege._ "never has a sadder christmas dawned on any city. cold, hunger, agony, grief, and despair sit enthroned at every habitation in paris. it is the coldest day of the season and the fuel is very short; and the government has had to take hold of the fuel question, and the magnificent shade-trees that have for ages adorned the avenues of this city are all likely to go in the vain struggle to save france. so says the official journal of this morning. the sufferings of the past week exceed by far anything we have seen. there is scarcely any meat but horse-meat, and the government is now rationing. it carries out its work with impartiality. the omnibus-horse, the cab-horse, the work-horse, and the fancy-horse, all go alike in the mournful procession to the butchery shops--the magnificent blooded steed of the rothschilds by the side of the old plug of the cabman. fresh beef, mutton, pork are now out of the question. a little poultry yet remains at fabulous prices. in walking through the rue st. lazare i saw a middling-sized goose and chicken for sale in a shop-window, and i had the curiosity to step in and inquire the price (rash man that i was). the price of the goose was $ , and the chicken $ ."[ ] christmas in paris in . the paris correspondent of the _daily telegraph_ writes:--"although new year's day is the great french festival, the fashion of celebrating christmas something after the english custom is gaining ground in paris every year. thus a good deal of mistletoe now makes its appearance on the boulevards and in the shop windows, and it is evident that the famous druidical plant, which is shipped in such large quantities every year to england from normandy and brittany, is fast becoming popular among parisians. another custom, that of decorating christmas trees in the english and german style, has become quite an annual solemnity here since the influx of alsatians and lorrainers, while it is considered _chic_, in many quarters, to eat approximate plum-pudding on the th of december. unfortunately, the parisian 'blom budding,' unless prepared by british hands, is generally a concoction of culinary atrocities, tasting, let us say, like saveloy soup and ginger-bread porridge. in a few instances the 'angleesh blom budding' has been served at french tables in a soup tureen; and guests have been known to direct fearful and furtive glances towards it, just as an englishman might regard with mingled feelings of surprise and suspicion a fricassee of frogs. but independently of foreign innovations, parisians have their own way of celebrating noël. to-night (christmas eve) for instance, there will be midnight masses in the principal churches, when appropriate canticles and adam's popular 'noël' will be sung. in many private houses the _boudin_ will also be eaten after the midnight mass, the rich baptising it in champagne, and the _petit bourgeois_, who has not a wine cellar, in a cheap concoction of bottled stuff with a bordeaux label but a strong paris flavour. the feast of noël is, however, more archaically, and at the same time more earnestly, celebrated in provincial france. in the south the head of the family kindles the yule-log, or _bûche-de-noël_, which is supposed to continue burning until the arrival of spring. paterfamilias also lights the _calen_, or christmas lamp, which represents the star of bethlehem, and then all repair to the midnight mass in those picturesque groups which painters have delighted to commit to canvas. the inevitable _baraques_, or booths, which are allowed to remain on the great boulevards from christmas eve until the feast of the kings, on january , have made their appearance. they extend from the place de la madeleine to the place de la république, and are also visible on some of the other boulevards of the metropolis. their glittering contents are the same as usual, and, despite their want of novelty, crowds of people lounged along the boulevards this afternoon and inspected them with as much curiosity as if they formed part of a russian fair which had been temporarily transported from nijni novgorod to paris. what was more attractive, however, was the show of holly, mistletoe, fir-trees, camellias, tea-roses, and tulips in the famous flower-market outside the madeleine. a large tent has been erected, which protects the sellers of winter flowers from the rain, and this gives the market a gayer and more brilliant appearance than usual. what strikes one more than anything else, however, is the number of french people whom one sees purchasing holly bushes and mistletoe, which they carry home in huge bundles, after the good old english fashion. notwithstanding the dampness and gloom of the weather, which hovers between frost and rain, the general aspect of paris to-day is one of cheerful and picturesque animation, and the laughing crowds with whom one jostles in the streets are thoroughly imbued with the festive character of the season." christmas in normandy. in describing the old-custom-loving people of lower normandy, a writer on "calvados," in - , thus refers to the season of christmas and twelfth-tide: "now christmas arrives, and young and old go up to greet the little child jesus, lying on his bed of straw at the virgin mother's feet and smiling to all the world. overhead the old cracked bell clangs exultant, answering to other bells faint and far on the midnight air; a hundred candles are burning and every church window shines through the darkness like the gates of that holy new jerusalem 'whose light was as a stone most precious--a jasper-stone clear as crystal.' with twelfth-tide this fair vision suffers a metamorphosis, blazoning out into the paganish saturnalia of bonfires, which in calvados is transferred from st. john's eve _le jour des rois_. red flames leap skyward, fed by dry pine fagots, and our erstwhile devout peasants, throwing moderation to the winds, join hands, dance, and leap for good luck through blinding smoke and embers, shouting their rude doggerel: "'adieu les rois jusqu'a douze mois, douze mois passes les _bougelées_.'" christmas in provence. [illustration: provenÇal plays at christmastide.] heinrich heine delighted in the infantile childishness of a provençal christmas. he never saw anything prettier in his life, he said, than a noël procession on the coast of the mediterranean. a beautiful young woman and an equally lovely child sat on a donkey, which an old fisherman in a flowing brown gown was supposed to be leading into egypt. young girls robed in white muslin were supposed to be angels, and hovered near the child and its mother to supply to him sweetmeats and other refreshments. at a respectful distance there was a procession of nuns and village children, and then a band of vocalists and instrumentalists. flowers and streaming banners were unsparingly used. bright sunshine played upon them, and the deep blue sea formed a background. the seafaring people who looked on, not knowing whether to venerate or laugh, did both. falling upon their knees they went through a short devotional exercise, and then rose to join the procession and give themselves up to unrestricted mirth. in the chateaux of the south of france _crèches_ are still exhibited, and _crèche_ suppers given to the poorer neighbours, and to some of the rich, who are placed at a table "above the salt." there are also "bethlehem stable" puppet-shows, at which the holy family, their visitors, and four-footed associates are brought forward as _dramatis personæ_. st. joseph, the wise men, and the shepherds are made to speak in _patois_. but the virgin says what she has to say in classical french. in the refinement of her diction, her elevation above those with her is expressed. at marseilles an annual fair of statuettes is held, the profits of which are spent in setting up bethlehem _crèches_ in the churches and other places. each statuette represents a contemporaneous celebrity, and is contained in the hollow part of the wax bust of some saint. gambetta, thiers, cavour, queen victoria, grévy, the pope, paul bert, rouvier (who is a marseillais), the late czar and other celebrities have appeared among the _figurines_ hidden within the saintly busts. christmas in corsica. "a winter in corsica," by "two ladies," published in , contains an interesting account of the celebration of christmas in that picturesque island of the mediterranean which is known as the birthplace of napoleon bonaparte--"one day shortly before christmas our hostess, or landlady, was very busy with an old body in the kitchen, who had come to make sundry cakes in preparation for that festive season. we were all called down to see what was going on, and our attention was particularly directed to the great oven which was heated on purpose to bake them. one kind of cake was made of chesnut flour, another of eggs and _broche_ (a kind of curds made from goats' milk), but the principal sort was composed chiefly of almonds, extremely good and not unlike macaroons, but thicker and more substantial. for several days previously, everybody in the house had been busy blanching and pounding almonds; not only the two servants, but rose and clara, the young work-women who were so often staying in the house, and who, indeed, at one time seemed to form part of the establishment. the old cook herself, a stout and dumpy person, was worth looking at, as she stood surrounded by these young women, who did very little but watch her operations; and the whole formed quite an animated picture of a foreign _ménage_, which one rarely has the opportunity of seeing. * * * * * "towards christmas, considerable preparations began to be made in the shops for the coming season, but chiefly, perhaps, for new year's day, which is kept throughout france as a grand _fête_ day. sweetmeats in great variety filled the windows, and especially what were called _pralines_--an almond comfit covered with rough sugar, and of a peculiar flavour. they are very good, and cost three francs per pound. * * * * * "it seemed strange writing to friends at home wishing them 'a happy christmas,' when we seemed scarcely to have done with summer. "there was certainly a good deal of novelty in our mode of passing christmas-time in ajaccio. "we had expressed the wish to be present at midnight mass, in the cathedral, on christmas eve, and our kind hostess readily promised to take us, and also said we should have a _petit souper_ with her on our return. she told us afterwards that she had spoken to the organist, and obtained permission for us to go into the organ-loft, where we should have a good view over the church, and not be inconvenienced by the crowd. accordingly, a little before eleven o'clock, we all went downstairs, and, accompanied by madame, as well as by a gentleman and his daughter, friends of hers, proceeded to the cathedral. "as there is no gas in ajaccio, the church of course is lighted only with candles, and very dim and gloomy it looked, especially at first, and during a dull monotonous kind of chanting, which we were told were the offices to the virgin. "by and by, as midnight drew near, and the mass was about to commence, a great number of candles were lighted on the high altar and in the side chapels, and the scene became more brilliant and animated. we looked down upon a perfect sea of heads, the women all wearing the national handkerchiefs, many of these of bright colours, and making them conspicuous among the men, of whom there were also a very large number. "at length the organ struck up, the higher priests entered, wearing their richest robes, followed by numerous attendants. each bowed and knelt as he passed the altar, and took his allotted place, and then the service began. at one point, supposed to be the moment of our saviour's birth, there was quite an uproar. the people clapped their hands, and stamped, and shouted, trumpets sounded, and the organ pealed forth its loudest tones. "then there was a very sweet hymn-tune played, and some beautiful voices sang adeste fideles, which was by far the most pleasing part of the service to our minds. next came the reading of the gospel, with much formality of kissing and bowing, and incensing; the book was moved from side to side and from place to place; then one priest on his knees held it up above his head, while another, sitting, read a short passage, and a third came forward to the front of the enclosed space near the altar, flinging the censer round and about. then the little bell tinkled, and all that mass of heads bowed down lower, the host was raised, the communion taken by the priests, and at one o'clock all was over. "we gladly regained the fresh air, which, though rather cold, was much needed after the close atmosphere of the crowded cathedral. the moon was very bright, and we hastened home with appetites sharpened by our walk, for what proved to be a handsome dinner, rather than a _petit souper_. * * * * * "for ourselves, we did not forget the old home custom of christmas decorations, and took some pains to dress our _salon_ with evergreens, which we brought down from the hills the previous day. although we had neither holly nor mistletoe, we found good substitutes for them in the elegant-leaved lentiscus, the tree heath and sweetly perfumed myrtle; while round the mirror and a picture of the virgin on the opposite wall we twined garlands of the graceful sarsaparilla. the whole looked extremely pretty, and gave quite a festive appearance to the room. "on christmas day we joined some english friends for a walk, about eleven o'clock. it was a charming morning, bright and hot, as we strolled along the shore to the orange-garden of barbacaja, where we gathered oranges fresh from the trees. "on returning home to dinner no plum-pudding or mince-pies awaited us certainly, but we had tolerably good beef, for a wonder, and lamb, _merles_, and new potatoes. * * * * * "christmas day in corsica is observed by the people as a religious festival, but not as a social one; and there are no family gatherings as in england and germany. this arises, no doubt, from that non-existence of true domestic life which must strike all english taking up a temporary residence in france. "there was a succession of _fête_ days throughout christmas week, when the shops were shut and the people dressed in holiday attire. but the great day to which every one seems to look forward is the first of the year, _le jour de l'an_. presents are then made by everybody to everybody, and visits of congratulation, or merely of ceremony, received and expected. the gifts are sometimes costly and handsome, but generally they are trifling, merely valuable as works of remembrance, consisting chiefly of bonbons, boxes of crystallised fruits, and other confectionery." christmas in chios. [illustration: from an ivory, byzantine. british museum ] the preceding illustration of eastern art belongs to the same period as many of the christmas customs which have survived in chios, and it carries our thoughts back to the time when byzantium was the capital of the greek empire in the east. from an interesting account by an english writer in the _cornhill magazine_, for december, , who spent a christmas amongst the greeks of this once prosperous isle of chios, it appears that, two days before christmas, he took up his quarters at "the village of st. george, a good day's journey from the town, on the slopes of a backbone of mountains, which divides chios from north to south." on the morning following the arrival at st. george, "echoes of home" were heard which caused the writer to exclaim: "surely they don't have christmas waits here." outside the house stood a crowd of children singing songs and carrying baskets. from the window, the mistress of the house was seen standing amongst the children "talking hard, and putting handfuls of something into each basket out of a bag." "on descending," says the writer, "i inquired the cause of this early invasion, and learnt that it is customary on the day before christmas for children to go round to the houses of the village early, before the celebration of the liturgy, and collect what is called 'the luck of christ'--that is to say, walnuts, almonds, figs, raisins, and the like. every housewife is careful to have a large stock of these things ready overnight, and if children come after her stock is exhausted she says, 'christ has taken them and passed by.' the urchins, who are not always willing to accept this excuse, revile her with uncomplimentary remarks, and wish her cloven feet, and other disagreeable things." the writer visited the chief inhabitants of st. george, and was regaled with "spoonfuls of jam, cups of coffee, and glasses of mastic liquer"; and, in a farmyard, "saw oxen with scarlet horns," it being the custom, on the day before christmas, for "every man to kill his pig, and if he has cattle to anoint their horns with blood, thereby securing their health for the coming year. "it is very interesting to see the birthplace of our own christmas customs here in greece, for it is an undoubted fact that all we see now in greek islands has survived since byzantine days. turkish rule has in no way interfered with religious observances, and during four or five centuries of isolation from the civilised world the conservative spirit of the east has preserved intact for us customs as they were in the early days of christianity; inasmuch as the eastern church was the first christian church, it was the parent of all christian customs. many of these customs were mere adaptations of the pagan to the christian ceremonial--a necessary measure, doubtless, at a time when a new religion was forced on a deeply superstitious population. the saints of the christian took the place of the gods of the "iliad." old customs attending religious observances have been peculiarly tenacious in these islands, and here it is that we must look for the pedigree of our own quaint christian habits. we have seen the children of st. george collecting their christmas-boxes, we have spoken of pig-killing, and we will now introduce ourselves to chiote christmas-trees, the _rhamnæ_, as they are called here, which take the form of an offering of fruits of the earth and flowers by tenants to their landlords. "the form of these offerings is varied: one tenant we saw chose to make his in the shape of a tripod; others merely adorn poles, but all of them effect this decoration in a similar fashion, more gaudily than artistically. the pole is over a yard in height, and around it are bound wreaths of myrtle, olive, and orange leaves; to these are fixed any flowers that may be found, geraniums, anemones, and the like, and, by way of further decoration, oranges, lemons, and strips of gold and coloured paper are added. "on christmas morning the tenants of the numerous gardens of chios proceed to the houses of their landlords, riding on mules and carrying a _rhamna_ in front of them and a pair of fowls behind. as many as three hundred of these may be seen entering the capital of chios on this day, and i was told the sight is very imposing. at st. george we had not so many of them, but sufficient for our purpose. on reaching his landlord's house the peasant sets up the trophy in the outer room, to be admired by all who come; the fowls he hands over to the housewife; and then he takes the large family jars or _amphoræ_, as they still call them, to the well, and draws the drinking water for his landlord's christmas necessities. "in the afternoon each landlord gives 'a table' to his tenants, a good substantial meal, at which many healths are drunk, compliments exchanged, and songs sung, and before returning home each man receives a present of money in return for his offerings. a greek never gives a present without expecting an equivalent in return." another christmas custom in chios which reminded the writer of the english custom of carol-singing is thus described: "there are five parishes in the village of st. george, each supplied with a church, priests, acolytes, and candle-lighters, who answer to our vergers, and who are responsible for the lighting of the many lamps and candles which adorn an eastern church. these good people assemble together on christmas day, after the liturgy is over, and form what is called 'a musical company'; one man is secured to play the lyre, another the harp, another the cymbals, and another leads the singing--if the monotonous chanting in which they indulge can be dignified by the title of singing. the candle-lighter, armed with a brass tray, is the recognised leader of this musical company, and all day long he conducts them from one house to another in the parish to play, sing, and collect alms. these musicians of st. george have far more consideration for the feelings of their fellow-creatures than english carol-singers, for the candle-lighter is always sent on ahead to inquire of the household they propose to visit if there is mourning in the house, or any other valid reason why the musicians should not play, in which case the candle-lighter merely presents his tray, receives his offering, and passes on. never, if they can help it, will a family refuse admission to the musicians. they have not many amusements, poor things, and their christmas entertainment pleases them vastly. "the carols of these islands are exceedingly old-world and quaint. when permission is given the troupe advance towards the door, singing a sort of greeting as follows: 'come now and open your gates to our party; we have one or two sweet words to sing to you.' the door is then opened by the master of the house; he greets them and begs them to come in, whilst the other members of the family place chairs at one end of the room, on which the musicians seat themselves. the first carol is a genuine christmas one, a sort of religious recognition of the occasion, according to our notions fraught with a frivolity almost bordering on blasphemy; but then it must be remembered that these peasants have formed their own simple ideas of the life of christ, the virgin, and the saints, to which they have given utterance in their songs. a priest of st. george kindly supplied me with the words of some of their carols, and this is a translation of one of the prefatory songs with which the musical company commence:-- "'christmas, christmas! christ is born; saints rejoice and devils mourn. christmas, christmas! christ was fed on sweet honey, milk, and bread, just as now our rulers eat bread and milk, and honey sweet.' after this the company sing a series of songs addressed to the various members of the family, to the father, to the mother, to the daughters, to the sons; if there chances to be a betrothed couple there, they are sure to be greeted with a special song; the little children, too, are exhorted in song to be good and diligent at school. of these songs there are an infinite number, and many of them give us curious glimpses into the life, not of to-day, but of ages which have long since passed away. "the following song is addressed to the master of the house, and has doubtless been sung for centuries of christmases since the old byzantine days when such things as are mentioned in the song really existed in the houses. this is a word-for-word translation:-- "'we have come to our venerable master; to his lofty house with marble halls. his walls are decorated with mosaic; with the lathe his doors are turned. angels and archangels are around his windows, and in the midst of his house is spread a golden carpet and from the ceiling the golden chandelier sheds light. it lights the guests as they come and go. it lights our venerable master.' on the conclusion of their carols the musicians pause for rest, the cymbal-player throws his cymbal on the floor, and the candle-lighter does the same thing with his tray, and into these the master of the house deposits his gifts to his parish church, and if they are a newly-married couple they tie up presents of food for the musicians in a handkerchief--figs, almonds, &c., which the cymbal-player fastens round his neck or ties to his girdle. "before the musicians take their departure the housewife hurries off to her cupboard and produces a tray with the inevitable jam thereon. coffee and mastic are served, and the compliments of the season are exchanged. whilst the candle-lighter is absent looking for another house at which to sing, the musicians sing their farewell, 'we wish health to your family, and health to yourself. we go to join the _pallicari_.' "in villages where the singing of carols has fallen into disuse the inhabitants are content with the priestly blessing only. to distribute this the priest of each parish starts off on christmas morning with the candle-lighter and his tray, and an acolyte to wave the censer; he blesses the shops, he sprinkles holy water over the commodities, and then he does the same by the houses; the smell of incense perfumes the air, and the candle-lighter rattles his tray ostentatiously to show what a lot of coppers he has got." christmas in a greek church. "swan's journal of a voyage up the mediterranean, ," gives the following account of christmas in a greek church:-- "thursday, january th, this being christmas day with the greek catholics, their 'churches are adorned in the gayest manner. i entered one, in which a sort of raree-show had been set up, illumed with a multitude of candles: the subject of it was the birth of christ, who was represented in the background by a little waxen figure wrapped up in embroidery, and reclining upon an embroidered cushion, which rested upon another of pink satin. this was supposed to be the manger where he was born. behind the image two paper bulls' heads looked unutterable things. on the right was the virgin mary, and on the left one of the eastern magi. paper clouds, in which the paper heads of numberless cherubs appeared, enveloped the whole; while from a pasteboard cottage stalked a wooden monk, with dogs, and sheep, and camels, goats, lions, and lambs; here walked a maiden upon a stratum of sods and dried earth, and there a shepherd flourishing aloft his pastoral staff. the construction of these august figures was chiefly dutch: they were intermixed with china images and miserable daubs on paper. in the centre a real fountain, in miniature, squirted forth water to the ineffable delight of crowds of prostrate worshippers." christmas in rome. hone[ ] states that after christmas day, during the remainder of december, there is a presepio, or representation of the manger, in which our saviour was laid, to be seen in many of the churches at rome. that of the ara coeli is the best worth seeing, which church occupies the site of the temple of jupiter, and is adorned with some of its beautiful pillars. on entering, we found daylight completely excluded from the church; and until we advanced, we did not perceive the artificial light, which was so managed as to stream in fluctuating rays, from intervening silvery clouds, and shed a radiance over the lovely babe and bending mother, who, in the most graceful attitude, lightly holds up the drapery which half conceals her sleeping infant from the bystanders. he lies in richly embroidered swaddling clothes, and his person, as well as that of his virgin mother, is ornamented with diamonds and other precious stones; for which purpose, we are informed, the princesses and ladies of high rank lend their jewels. groups of cattle grazing, peasantry engaged in different occupations, and other objects, enliven the picturesque scenery; every living creature in the group, with eyes directed towards the presepio, falls prostrate in adoration. in the front of this theatrical representation a little girl, about six or eight years old, stood on a bench, preaching extempore, as it appeared, to the persons who filled the church, with all the gesticulation of a little actress, probably in commemoration of those words of the psalmist, quoted by our blessed lord--"out of the mouths of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise." in this manner the scriptures are _acted_; not "read, marked, and inwardly digested." the whole scene had, however, a striking effect, well calculated to work upon the minds of a people whose religion consists so largely in outward show. [from "a narrative of three years in italy."] [illustration: calabrian shepherds playing in rome at christmas. (_from hone's "every-day book_," )] as at the beginning, so in the latter part of the nineteenth century, the church celebrations of christmas continue to be great christmas attractions in the eternal city. from the description of one who was present at the christmas celebration of , we quote the following extracts:-- "on christmas morning, at ten o'clock, when all the world was not only awake, but up and doing, mass was being said and sung in the principal churches, but the great string of visitors to the imperial city bent their steps towards st. peter's to witness the celebration of this the greatest feast in the greatest christian church. "as the heavy leather curtain which hangs before the door fell behind one, this sacred building seemed indeed the world's cathedral; for here were various crowds from various nations, and men and women followers of all forms of faiths, and men and women of no faith at all. the great church was full of light and colour--of light that came in broad yellow beams through the great dome and the high eastern windows, making the candles on the side altars and the hundred ever-burning lamps around the st. peter's shrine look dim and yellow in the fulness of its radiance; and of colour combined of friezes of burnished gold, and brilliant frescoes, and rich altar pieces, and bronze statues, and slabs of oriental alabaster, and blocks of red porphyry and lapis lazuli, and guilded vaulted ceiling, and walls of inlaid marbles. "in the large choir chapel, containing the tomb of clement ix., three successive high masses were celebrated, the full choir of st. peter's attending. in the handsomely carved old oak stalls sat bishops in purple and rich lace, canons in white, and minor canons in grey fur capes, priests and deacons, and a hundred acolytes wearing silver-buckled shoes and surplices. this chapel, with its life-size marble figures resting on the cornices, has two organs, and here the choicest music is frequently heard. "of course the choir chapel was much too small to hold the great crowd, which, therefore, overflowed into the aisles and nave of the vast church, where the music could be heard likewise. this crowd broke up into groups, each worthy of a study, and all combining to afford an effect at once strange and picturesque. there are groups of americans, english, french, germans, and italians promenading round the church, talking in their respective native tongues, gesticulating, and now and then pausing to admire a picture or examine a statue. acquaintances meet and greet; friends introduce mutual friends; compliments are exchanged, and appointments made. meanwhile masses are being said at all the side altars, which are surrounded by knots of people who fall on their knees at the sound of a little bell, and say their prayers quite undisturbed by the general murmur going on around them. "presently there is a stir in the crowd surrounding the choir chapel; the organ is at its loudest, and then comes a long procession of vergers in purple and scarlet facings, and cross and torch bearers, and censer bearers, and acolytes and deacons and priests and canons and bishops, and a red-robed cardinal in vestments of cloth of gold wrought and figured with many a sacred sign, and, moreover, adorned with precious stones; and high mass at st. peter's, on christmas day, is at an end. "during the day most of the shops and all the government offices were open. soldiers were drilled all day long in the piazza vittorio emanuele, and were formally marched to their various barracks, headed by bands discoursing martial music; whilst the postmen delivered their freight of letters as on ordinary days of the week. in the afternoon most of those who were at st. peter's in the morning assembled to hear grand vespers at the handsome and famous church of san maria maggiore, one of the oldest in christendom, the mosaics on the chancel arch dating from the fifth century. the church was illuminated with hundreds of candles and hung with scarlet drapery, the effect being very fine; the music such as can alone be heard in rome. on the high altar was exhibited in a massive case of gold and crystal two staves said to have been taken from the manger in which christ was laid, this being carried round the church at the conclusion of vespers. almost every english visitor in rome was present." christmas at monte carlo. "every one has heard of the tiny principality of monaco, with its six square miles of territory facing the mediterranean, and lying below the wonderful corniche-road, which has been for ages the great highway south of the alps, connecting the south of france with northern italy. of course many visitors come here to gamble, but an increasing number are attracted by the beauty of the scenery and the charm of the climate; and here some hundreds of englishmen and englishwomen spent their christmas day and ate the conventional plum-pudding. christmas had been ushered in by a salvo of artillery and a high mass at the cathedral at eleven on christmas eve, and holly and mistletoe (which seemed strangely out of place amongst the yellow roses and hedges of geraniums) were in many hands. as illustrating the mildness of the climate and the natural beauty of the district, the following flowers were in full bloom in the open air on christmas day: roses of every variety, geraniums, primulas, heliotropes, carnations, anemones, narcissus, sweetwilliams, stocks, cactus, and pinks; and to these may be added lemon trees and orange trees laden with their golden fruit. as evening wore on a strong gale burst upon the shore, and christmas day closed amongst waving foliage and clanging doors and clouds of dust, and the fierce thud of angry surf upon the sea-shore below. "january , . j. s. b." christmas eve festivities in germany. in "the german christmas eve," , madame apolline flohr recalls her "childish recollections" of the christmas festivities in the "happy family" of which she was a member. they met amid the glare of a hundred lights, and according to an old-established custom, they soon joined in chaunting the simple hymn which begins:-- "now let us thank our god; uplift our hands and hearts: eternal be his praise, who all good things imparts!" after the singing (says the writer), i ventured for the first time, to approach the pile of christmas gifts intended for my sisters, my brothers, and myself. the christmas tree, always the common property of the children of the house, bore gilded fruits of every species; and as we gazed with childish delight on these sparkling treasures our dear parents wiped away the tears they had plentifully shed, while our young voices were ringing out the sweet hymn, led by our friend, herr von clappart, with such deep and solemn emotion. now, as the dear mother led each child to his or her own little table--for the gifts for each were laid out separately, and thus apportioned beforehand--all was joy and merriment. a large table stood in the midst, surrounded by smaller ones, literally laden with pretty and ingenious toys, the gifts of friends and kindred. we liked the toys very much indeed. we were, however, too happy to endure quiet pleasure very long, and all prepared to assemble around the christmas tree. after a delightful dance around the tree, and around our dear parents, our presents were again examined; for the variety of offerings made on these occasions would much exceed the belief of a stranger to our customs. every article for children's clothing was here to be found, both for ornament and use; nor were books forgotten. it was then i received my first bible and prayer-book; and at the moment the precious gift was placed in my hand, i resolved to accompany my parents to church the following morning at five o'clock. (this early attendance at public worship on christmas morning is a custom observed in central germany, and is called christ-kirche.) the ceremony of withdrawing, in order to attire ourselves in some of our new dresses, having been performed, we re-entered the apartment, upon which the great folding-doors being thrown open, a second christmas tree appeared, laden with hundreds of lights. this effect was produced by the tree being placed opposite some large looking-glasses, which reflected the lights and redoubled their brilliancy. here hung the gifts prepared by the hands of the children for their beloved parents. my eldest sister, charlotte, had knitted for her mother a beautiful evening cap, and a long purse for her father. emily presented each one of the family with a pair of mittens; and the little adolphine made similar offerings of open-worked stockings, her first attempt. our parents were also surprised and delighted to receive some drawings, exceedingly well executed, by my brothers, accompanied by a letter of thanks from those dear boys, for the kind permission to take lessons which had been granted to them during the last half-year. the great bell had called us together at five o'clock in the afternoon, to receive our christmas gifts; and though at eleven our eyes and hearts were still wide awake, yet were we obliged to retire, and leave all these objects of delight behind us. all remembered that, at least, the elder branches of the family must rise betimes the next morning to attend the christ-kirche, and to hear a sermon on the birth of the saviour of mankind. the great excitement of the previous evening, and the vision of delight that still hovered around my fancy, prevented my sleeping soundly; so that when the others were attempting to steal away the next morning to go to church, i was fully roused, and implored so earnestly to be taken with the rest of the family, that at length my prayer was granted; but on condition that i should keep perfectly still during the service. arrived at the church we found it brilliantly illuminated, and decorated with the boughs of the holly and other evergreens. it is quite certain that a child of five years old could not understand the importance, beauty, and extreme fitness of the sublime service she so often witnessed in after life; yet i can recollect a peculiarly sweet, sacred, and mysterious feeling taking possession of me, as my infant mind received the one simple impression that this was the birthday of the saviour i had been taught to love and pray to, since my infant lips could lisp a word. since early impressions are likely to be permanent, it is considered most important in my fatherland to surround, christmas with all joyous and holy associations. a day of days, indeed, it is with us--a day never to be forgotten. so far is this feeling carried, that it is no uncommon pastime, even at the beginning of the new year, to project plans and presents, happy surprises, and unlooked-for offerings, to be presented at the far-off time of christmas festivity. * * * * * another writer, at the latter end of the nineteenth century, gives the following account of the christmas festivities at the german court, from which it appears that the long-cherished christmas customs are well preserved in the highest circle in germany:-- christmas at the german court. in accordance with an old custom the royal family of prussia celebrate christmas in a private manner at the emperor william's palace, where the "blue dining-hall" on the first floor is arranged as the christmas room. two long rows of tables are placed in this hall, and two smaller tables stand in the corners on either side of the pillared door leading to the ballroom. on these tables stand twelve of the finest and tallest fir-trees, reaching nearly to the ceiling, and covered with innumerable white wax candles placed in wire-holders, but without any other decoration. in the afternoon of the th great packages are brought into this room containing the presents for the members of the imperial household, and in the presence of the emperor his chamberlain distributes them on the tables under the trees. the monarch always takes an active part in this work, and, walking about briskly from one table to the other, helps to place the objects in the most advantageous positions, and fastens on them slips of white paper on which he himself has written the names of the recipients. the empress is also present, occupied with arranging the presents for the ladies of her own household. the two separate tables still remain empty, until the emperor and the empress have left the room, as they are destined to hold the presents for their majesties. at four o'clock the entire royal family assemble in the large dining-hall of the palace for their christmas dinner. besides all the princes and princesses without exception, the members of the imperial household, the chiefs of the emperor's military and civil cabinets, and a number of adjutants are also present. shortly after the termination of the dinner the double doors leading to the blue hall are thrown wide open at a sign from the emperor, and the brilliant sight of the twelve great fir-trees bearing thousands of lighted tapers is disclosed to view. this is the great moment of the german christmas eve celebration. the imperial couples then form in procession, and all proceed to the christmas room. the emperor and the empress then personally lead the members of their households to the presents which are grouped in long rows on the tables, and which comprise hundreds of articles, both valuable and useful, objects of art, pictures, statuary, &c. meanwhile, the two separate tables still remain hidden under white draperies. in other rooms all the officials and servants of the palace, down to the youngest stable-boy, are presented with their christmas-boxes. at about nine o'clock the imperial family and their guests again return to the dining-room, where a plain supper is then served. according to old tradition, the menu always includes the following dishes: "carp cooked in beer" (a polish custom), and "mohnpielen," an east prussian dish, composed of poppy-seed, white bread, almonds and raisins, stewed in milk. after the supper all return once more to the christmas room, where the second part of the celebration--the exchange of presents among the royal family--then comes off. the emperor's table stands on the right side of the ballroom door, and every object placed on it bears a paper with an inscription intimating by whom the present is given. the presents for the empress on the other table are arranged in the same manner. among the objects never missing at the emperor's christmas are some large nuremberg ginger cakes, with the inscription "weihnachten" and the year. about half-an-hour later tea is taken, and this terminates the christmas eve of the first family of the german empire. christmas throughout germany, it may be added, is similarly observed in the year . from the imperial palace to the poor man's cottage there is not a family in germany that has not its christmas tree and "weihnachts bescheerung"--christmas distribution of presents. for the very poor districts of berlin provision is made by the municipal authorities or charitable societies to give the children this form of amusement, which they look forward to throughout the year. the christmas festivities in austria are similar to those in germany, the prominent feature being the beautifully-adorned and splendidly-lighted christmas-tree. at one of these celebrations, a few years ago, the numerous presents received by the young princess elizabeth included a speaking doll, fitted with a phonograph cylinder, which created no small astonishment. among other things, the doll was able to recite a poem composed by the archduchess marie valerie in honour of christmas eve. the poor and destitute of vienna are not forgotten, for, in addition to the christmas-tree which is set up at the palace for them, a large number of charitable associations in the various districts of vienna have also christmas-trees laden with presents for the poor. christmas eve in st. mark's, venice. you go into the duomo late on christmas eve, and find the time-stained alabasters and dark aisles lit up with five hundreds of wax candles over seven feet high. the massive silver lamps suspended across the choir have the inner lamps all ablaze, as is also the graceful byzantine chandelier in the centre of the nave that glitters like a cluster of stars from dozens of tiny glass cups with wick and oil within. in the solemn and mysterious gloom you pass figures of men and women kneeling in devotion before the many shrines. some are accompanied by well-behaved and discreet dogs, who sit patiently waiting till their owners' prayer shall be over; whilst others less well trained, run about from group to group to smell out their friends or growl at foes. you slowly work your way through the throng to the high altar. that unique reredos, brought from constantinople in early times--the magnificent "pala d'ora," an enamelled work wrought on plates of gold and silver, and studded with precious stones--is unveiled, and the front of the altar has a rich frontispiece of the thirteenth century, which is of silver washed with gold, and embossed figures. numbers of ponderous candles throw a glimmer over the treasures with which st. mark's is so richly endowed, that are profusely displayed on the altar. bishops, canons and priests in full dress are standing and kneeling, and the handsome and much-beloved patriarch of venice officiates, in dress of gorgeous scarlet and cream-coloured old lace, and heavy-brocaded cope, that is afterwards exchanged for one of ermine, and flashing rings and jewelled cross. there is no music, but a deep quiet pervades the dim golden domes overhead and the faintly-lighted transepts. stray rays of light catch the smooth surface of the mosaics, which throw off sparkles of brightness and cast deeper shadows beyond the uncertain radiance. after the midnight mass is celebrated you pass out with the stream of people into the cold, frosty night, with only the bright stars to guide you through the silent alleys to your rooms, where you wish each other "a merry christmas!" and retire to sleep, and to dream of the old home in england.--_queen_. [illustration: sassoferrato (giovanni battista salvi) - museum naples] christmas in naples. an english writer who spent a christmas in naples a few years ago, says:-- "in the south christmas is bright and gay, and in truth noisy. the _festa natalizie_, as it is called in naples, is celebrated by fairs and bonfires and fireworks. in the toledo, that famous street known to all the world, booths are erected beside the shops, flaming in colour, and filled with all sorts of tempting wares. throughout christmas eve an immense crowd of men, women, and children throng this street, nearly a mile in length. the vendors shriek at the top of their voice, praising themselves and their goods, and then, with merry peals of laughter, exhibit with neapolitan drollery all the arts of their trade. the crowd catch the contagious spirit of fun, and toss witticisms to and fro, until the welkin rings with shouts and laughter. a revolution in paris could not create greater excitement, or greater noise, than the christmas fair at naples, the largest, and certainly the merriest, in the world. as night draws on the mirth grows uproarious; improvisations abound. pulcinello attracts laughing crowds. the bagpipes strike with their ear-piercing sounds, and arise shrill above the universal din. fireworks are let off at every street corner, flaming torches carried in procession parade the streets; rockets rise in the air, coloured lamps are hung over doorways, and in the midst of the blaze of light the church bells announce the midnight mass, and the crowd leave the fair and the streets, and on bended knee are worshipping." [illustration: luis de vargas - seville cathedral] christmas in spain. spain in winter must be divided into spain the frigid and spain the semi-tropic; for while snow lies a foot deep at christmas in the north, in the south the sun is shining brightly, and flowers of spring are peeping out, and a nosegay of heliotrope and open-air geraniums is the christmas-holly and mistletoe of andalusia. there is no chill in the air, there is no frost on the window-pane. when christmas eve comes the two days' holiday commences. at twelve the labourers leave their work, repair home, and dress in their best. then the shops are all ablaze with lights, ribbons and streamers, with tempting fare of sweets and sausages, with red and yellow serge to make warm petticoats; with cymbals, drums, and _zambombas_. the chief sweetmeats, peculiar to christmas, and bought alike by rich and poor, are the various kinds of preserved fruits, incrusted with sugar, and the famous _turrni_. this last, which is of four kinds, and may be called in english phraseology, "almond rock," is brought to your door, and buy it you must. a coarse kind is sold to the poor at a cheap rate. other comestibles, peculiar to christmas, are almond soup, truffled turkey, roasted chestnuts, and nuts of every sort. before the _noche-buena_, or christmas eve, however, one or two good deeds have been done by the civil and military authorities. on the twenty-third or twenty-fourth the custom is for the military governor to visit all the soldier prisoners, in company with their respective defensores, or advocates; and, _de officio_, there and then, he liberates all who are in gaol for light offences. this plan is also pursued in the civil prisons; and thus a beautiful custom is kept up in classic, romantic, old-world spain, and a ray of hope enters into and illuminates even the bitter darkness of a spanish prisoners' den. it is christmas eve. the poor man has his relations round him, over his humble _puchero_ (stew): the rich man likewise. _friends_ have not come, "for it is not the custom." in spain only blood relations eat and drink in the house as invited guests. families meet as in england. two per cent. of the soldiers get a fortnight's leave of absence and a free pass; and there is joy in peasant homes over peasant charcoal pans. the dusky shades of evening are stealing over olive grove and withering vineyard, and every house lights up its tiny oil lamp, and every image of the virgin is illuminated with a taper. in eija, near cordova, an image or portrait of the virgin and the babe new-born, hangs in well-nigh every room in every house. and why? because the beautiful belief is rooted in those simple minds, that, on christmas eve, ere the clock strikes twelve, the virgin, bringing blessings in her train, visits every house where she can find an image or portrait of _her son_. and many a girl kneels down in robes of white before her humble portrait of the babe and prays; and hears a rustle in the room, and thinks, "the virgin comes: she brings me my christmas eve blessing;" and turns, and lo! it is _her mother_, and the virgin's blessing is the mother's kiss! in northern andalusia you have the _zambomba_, a flower-pot perforated by a hollow reed, which, wetted and rubbed with the finger, gives out a hollow, scraping, monotonous sound. in southern andalusia the _panderita_, or tambourine, is the chief instrument. it is wreathed with gaudy ribbons, and decked with bells, and beaten, shaken, and tossed in the air with graceful abandon to the strains of the christmas hymn: "this night is the good night, and therefore is no night of rest!" or, perhaps, the church chant is sung, called "the child of god was born." then also men click the castanet in wine-shop and cottage; and in such old-world towns as eija, where no railway has penetrated, a breast-plate of eccentrically strung bones--slung round the neck and played with sticks--is still seen and heard. the turkeys have been slaughtered and are smoking on the fire. the night is drawing on and now the meal is over. twelve o'clock strikes, and in one moment every bell from every belfrey clangs out its summons. poltroon were he who had gone to bed before twelve on _noche-buena_. from every house the inmates hurry to the gaily-lit church and throng its aisles, a dark-robed crowd of worshippers. the organ peals out, the priests and choir chant at this midnight hour the christmas hymn, and at last (in some out-of-the-way towns) the priests, in gaudiest robes, bring out from under the altar and expose aloft to the crowds, in swaddling-clothes of gold and white, the babe new-born, and all fall down and cross themselves in mute adoration. this service is universal, and is called the "misa del gallo," or cock-crow mass, and even in madrid it is customary to attend it. there are three masses also on christmas day, and the church rule, strictly observed, is that if a man fail to attend this midnight mass he must, to save his religious character, attend all three on christmas day. in antique towns, like eija, there are two days' early mass (called "misa di luz") anterior to the "misa del gallo," at a.m., and in the raw morning the churches are thronged with rich and poor. in that strange, old-world town, also, the chief dame goes to the midnight mass, all her men-servants in procession before her, each playing a different instrument. christmas eve is over. it is . a.m. on christmas morning, and the crowds, orderly, devout, cheerful, are wending their way home. then all is hushed; all have sought repose; there are no drunken riots; the dark streets are lit by the tiny oil lamps; the watchman's monotonous cry alone is heard, "ave maria purissima; las dos; y sereno." the three masses at the churches on christmas day are all chanted to joyous music. then the poor come in to pay their rent of turkeys, pigs, olives, or what not, to their landlord, and he gives them a christmas-box: such as a piece of salt fish, or money, or what may be. then, when you enter your house, you will find on your table, with the heading, "a happy christmas," a book of little leaflets, printed with verses. these are the petitions of the postman, scavenger, telegraph man, newsboy, &c., asking you for a christmas-box. poor fellows! they get little enough, and a couple of francs is well bestowed on them once a year. after mid-day breakfast or luncheon is over, rich and poor walk out and take the air, and a gaudy, pompous crowd they form as a rule. as regards presents at christmas, the rule is, in primitive spain, to send a present to the _cura_ (parish priest) and the doctor. many spaniards pay a fixed annual sum to their medical man, and he attends all the family, including servants. his salary is sent to him at christmas, with the addition of a turkey, or a cake, or some fine sweetmeats. on christmas eve the provincial hospitals present one of their most striking aspects to the visitor. it is a feast-day, and instead of the usual stew, the soup called _caldo_--and very weak stuff it is--or the stir-about and fried bread, the sick have their good sound meats, cooked in savoury and most approved fashion, their tumbler of wine, their extra cigar. visitors, kindly spanish ladies, come in, their hands laden with sweets and tobacco, &c., and the sight of the black silk dresses trailing over the lowly hospital couches is most human and pathetic. at last _night_--the veritable christmas eve comes. the chapels in these hospitals are generally on the ground floor, and frequently sunk some feet below it, but open to the hospital; so that the poor inmates who can leave their beds can hobble to the railing and look down into the chapel--one mass of dazzling lights, glitter, colour, and music: and thus, without the fatigue of descending the stairs, can join in the service. at half-past eleven at night the chapel is gaily lit up; carriage after carriage, mule-cart after mule-cart rattles up to the hospital door, discharging crowds of ladies and gentlemen in evening dress; thus the common people, chiefly the young, with their tambourines and zambombas, pour into the chapel from _campo_, and alley, and street, and soon the chapel is filled; while above, sitting, hobbling, lying all round the rails, and gazing down upon the motley and noisy throng below, are the inmates of the hospital. the priest begins the midnight mass, and the organs take up the service, the whole of which, for one hour, is chanted. meanwhile, the tambourines and other musical instruments are busy, and join in the strains of the organ; and the din, glitter, and excitement are most exhilarating. and thus the occupants of the spanish provincial hospitals join in the festivities of christmastide, as seen by one who has dwelt "_among the spanish people_." christmas customs in norway. a writer who knows the manners and habits of the people of norway, and their customs at christmastide, says:-- "at christiania, and other norwegian towns, there is, or used to be, a delicate christmas custom of offering to a lady a brooch or a pair of earings in a truss of hay. the house-door of the person to be complimented is pushed open, and there is thrown into the house a truss of hay or straw, a sheaf of corn, or a bag of chaff. in some part of this "bottle of hay" envelope, there is a "needle" as a present to be hunted for. a friend of mine once received from her betrothed, according to the christmas custom, an exceedingly large brown paper parcel, which, on being opened, revealed a second parcel with a loving motto on the cover. and so on, parcel within parcel, motto within motto, till the kernel of this paper husk--which was at length discovered to be a delicate piece of minute jewellery--was arrived at." one of the prettiest of christmas customs is the norwegian practice of giving, on christmas day, a dinner to the birds. on christmas morning every gable, gateway, or barn-door, is decorated with a sheaf of corn fixed on the top of a tall pole, wherefrom it is intended that the birds should make their christmas dinner. even the peasants contrive to have a handful set by for this purpose, and what the birds do not eat on christmas day, remains for them to finish at their leisure during the winter. on new year's day in norway, friends and acquaintances exchange calls and good wishes. in the corner of each reception-room is placed a little table, furnished all through the day with wine and cakes for the refreshment of the visitors; who talk, and compliment, and flirt, and sip wine, and nibble cake from house to house, with great perseverance. between christmas and twelfth day mummers are in season. they are called "julebukker," or christmas goblins. they invariably appear after dark, and in masks and fancy dresses. a host may therefore have to entertain in the course of the season, a punch, mephistopheles, charlemagne, number, nip, gustavus, oberon, and whole companies of other fanciful and historic characters; but, as their antics are performed in silence, they are not particularly cheerful company. christmas in russia. with christmas eve begins the festive season known in russia as _svyatki_ or _svyatuie vechera_ (holy evenings), which lasts till the epiphany. the numerous sportive ceremonies which are associated with it resemble, in many respects, those with which we are familiar, but they are rendered specially interesting and valuable by the relics of the past which they have been the means of preserving--the fragments of ritual song which refer to the ancient paganism of the land, the time-honoured customs which originally belonged to the feasts with which the heathen slavs greeted each year the return of the sun. on christmas eve commences the singing of the songs called _kolyadki_, a word, generally supposed to be akin to _kalendæ_, though reference is made in some of them to a mysterious being, apparently a solar goddess, named kolyada. "kolyada, kolyada! kolyada has come. we wandered about, we sought holy kolyada in all the courtyards," commences one of these old songs, for many a year, no doubt, solemnly sung by the young people who used in olden times to escort from homestead to homestead a sledge in which sat a girl dressed in white, who represented the benignant goddess. nowadays these songs have in many places fallen into disuse, or are kept up only by the children who go from house to house, to congratulate the inhabitants on the arrival of christmas, and to wish them a prosperous new year. in every home, says one of these archaic poems, are three inner chambers. in one is the bright moon, in another the red sun, in a third many stars. the bright moon--that is the master of the house; the red sun--that is the housewife; the many stars--they are the little children. the russian church sternly sets its face against the old customs with which the christmas season was associated, denouncing the "fiendish songs," and "devilish games," the "graceless talk," the "nocturnal gambols," and the various kinds of divination in which the faithful persisted in indulging. but, although repressed, they were not to be destroyed, and at various seasons of the year, but especially those of the summer and winter solstice, the "orthodox," in spite of their pastors, made merry with old heathenish sports, and, after listening to christian psalms in church, went home and sang songs framed by their ancestors in honour of heathen divinities. thus century after century went by, and the fortunes of russia underwent great changes. but still in the villages were the old customs kept up, and when christmas day came round it was greeted by survivals of the ceremonies with which the ancient slavs hailed the returning sun god, who caused the days to lengthen, and filled the minds of men with hopes of a new year rich in fruits and grain. one of the customs to which the church most strongly objected was that of mumming. as in other lands, so in russia it was customary for mummers to go about at christmastide, visiting various homes in which the festivities of the season were being kept up, and there dancing, and performing all kinds of antics. prominent parts were always played by human representatives of a goat and a bear. some of the party would be disguised as "lazaruses," that is, as the blind beggars who bear that name, and whose plaintive strains have resounded all over russia from the earliest times to the present day. the rest disguised themselves as they best could, a certain number of them being generally supposed to play the part of thieves desirous to break in and steal. when, after a time, they were admitted into the room where the christmas guests were assembled, the goat and the bear would dance a merry round together, the lazaruses would sing their "dumps so dull and heavy," and the rest of the performers would exert themselves to produce exhilaration. even among the upper classes it was long the custom at this time of year for the young people to dress up and visit their neighbours in disguise. thus in count tolstoy's "peace and war," a novel which aims at giving a true account of the russia of the early part of the present century, there is a charming description of a visit of this kind paid by the younger members of one family to another. on a bright frosty night the sledges are suddenly ordered, and the young people dress up, and away they drive across the crackling snow to a country house six miles off, all the actors creating a great sensation, but especially the fair maiden sonya, who proves irresistible when clad in her cousin's hussar uniform and adorned with an elegant moustache. such mummers as these would lay aside their disguises with a light conscience, but the peasant was apt to feel a depressing qualm when the sports were over; and it is said that, even at the present day, there are rustics who do not venture to go to church, after having taken part in a mumming, until they have washed off their guilt by immersing themselves in the benumbing waters of an ice-hole. next to the mumming, what the church most objected to was the divination always practised at christmas festivals. with one of its forms a number of songs have been associated, termed _podblyudnuiya_, as connected with a _blyudo_, a dish or bowl. into some vessel of this kind the young people drop tokens. a cloth is then thrown over it, and the various objects are drawn out, one after another, to the sound of songs, from the tenor of which the owners deduce omens relative to their future happiness. as bread and salt are also thrown into the bowl, the ceremony may be supposed to have originally partaken of the nature of a sacrifice. after these songs are over ought to come the game known as the "burial of the gold." the last ring remaining in the prophetic bowl is taken out by one of the girls, who keeps it concealed in her hand. the others sit in a circle, resting their hands on their knees. she walks slowly round, while the first four lines are sung in chorus of the song beginning, "see here, gold i bury, i bury." then she slips the ring into one of their hands, from which it is rapidly passed on to another, the song being continued the while. when it comes to an end the "gold burier" must try to guess in whose hand the ring is concealed. this game is a poetical form of our "hunt the slipper." like many other slavonic customs it is by some archæologists traced home to greece. by certain mythologists the "gold" is supposed to be an emblem of the sun, long hidden by envious wintry clouds, but at this time of year beginning to prolong the hours of daylight. to the sun really refer, in all probability, the bonfires with which christmastide, as well as the new year and midsummer is greeted in russia. in the ukraine the sweepings from a cottage are carefully preserved from christmas day to new year's day, and are then burnt in a garden at sunrise. among some of the slavs, such as the servians, croatians, and dalmatians, a _badnyak_, or piece of wood answering to the northern yule-log, is solemnly burnt on christmas eve. but the significance originally attached to these practices has long been forgotten. thus the grave attempts of olden times to search the secrets of futurity have degenerated into the sportive guesses of young people, who half believe that they may learn from omens at christmas time what manner of marriages are in store for them. divinings of this kind are known to all lands, and bear a strong family likeness; but it is, of course, only in a cold country that a spinster can find an opportunity of sitting beside a hole cut in the surface of a frozen river, listening to prophetic sounds proceeding from beneath the ice, and possibly seeing the image of the husband who she is to marry within the year trembling in the freezing water. throughout the whole period of the _svyatki_, the idea of marriage probably keeps possession of the minds of many russian maidens, and on the eve of the epiphany, the feast with which those christmas holidays come to an end, it is still said to be the custom for the village girls to go out into the open air and to beseech the "stars, stars, dear little stars," to be so benignant as to "send forth through the christened world arrangers of weddings." w. r. s. ralston, in _notes and queries_, dec. , . christmas-keeping in africa. "a certain young man about town" (says _chambers's journal_, december , ), "once forsook the sweet shady side of pall mall for the sake of smoking his cigar in savage africa; but when christmas came, he was seized with a desire to spend it in christian company, and this is how he did spend it: 'we english once possessed the senegal; and there, every christmas eve, the feast of lanterns used to be held. the native women picked up the words and airs of the carols; the custom had descended to the gambia, and even to the casemanche, where it is still preserved. a few minutes after i had ridden up, sounds of music were heard, and a crowd of blacks came to the door, carrying the model of a ship made of paper, and illuminated within; and hollowed pumpkins also lighted up for the occasion. then they sang some of our dear old christmas carols, and among others, one which i had heard years ago on christmas eve at oxford: nowel, nowel, the angels did say, to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay-- in fields as they lay keeping their sheep, one cold winter's night, which was so deep. nowel, nowel, nowel, nowel, born is the king of israel. you can imagine with what feelings i listened to those simple words, sung by negresses who knew not a phrase of english besides. you can imagine what recollections they called up, as i sat under an african sky, the palm-trees rustling above my head, and the crocodiles moaning in the river beyond. i thought of the snow lying thick upon the ground; of the keen, clear, frosty air. i thought of the ruddy fire which would be blazing in a room i knew; and of those young faces which would be beaming still more brightly by its side; i thought of--oh, of a hundred things, which i can laugh at now, because i am in england, but which, in africa, made me more wretched than i can well express.' "next day, sadness and sentiment gave way, for a while at least, to more prosaical feelings. when mr. reade sat down to his christmas dinner, he must have wished, with macbeth, 'may good digestion wait on appetite,' as he contemplated the fare awaiting discussion, and to which a boar's head grinned a welcome. snails from france, oysters torn from trees, gazelle cutlets, stewed iguana, smoked elephant, fried locusts, manati-breasts, hippopotamus steaks, boiled alligator, roasted crocodile eggs, monkeys on toast, land crabs and africa soles, carp, and mullet--detestable in themselves, but triumphant proof of the skill of the cook--furnished forth the festival-table, in company with potatoes, plantains, pine-apples, oranges, papaws, bananas, and various fruits rejoicing in extraordinary shapes, long native names, and very nasty flavours; and last, but not least, palm-cabbage stewed in white sauce, 'the ambrosia of the gods,' and a bottle of good bordeaux at every's man's elbow. when evening came, mr. reade and a special friend sought the river: 'the rosy wine had rouged our yellow cheeks, and we lay back on the cushions, and watched the setting sun with languid, half-closed eyes. four men, who might have served as models to appelles, bent slowly to their stroke, and murmured forth a sweet and plaintive song. their oars, obedient to their voice, rippled the still water, and dropped from their blades pearls, which the sun made rubies with its rays. two beautiful girls, who sat before us in the bow, raised their rounded arms and tinkled their bracelets in the air. then, gliding into the water, they brought us flowers from beneath the dark bushes, and kissed the hands which took them, with wet and laughing lips. like a dark curtain, the warm night fell upon us; strange cries roused from the forest; beasts of the waters plunged around us, and my honest friend's hand pressed mine. and christmas day was over. we might seek long for a stranger contrast to an englishman's christmas at home, although--to adapt some seasonable lines-- where'er an english heart exists to do and dare, where, amid afric's sands, the lion roars, where endless winter chains the silent shores, where smiles the sea round coral islets bright, where brahma's temple's sleep in glowing light-- in every spot where england's sons may roam, dear christmas-tide still speaks to them of home!" [ ] the discovery of the north-west passage for navigation from the atlantic ocean to the pacific, by the northern coasts of the american continent; first successfully traversed by sir r. mcclure in - . [ ] _chambers's journal_, december , . [ ] fosbroke's "british monachism." [ ] "reminiscences of the siege and commune of paris," by ex-minister e. b. washburne. [ ] "year book." [illustration] [illustration: simeon received the child jesus into his arms, and blessed god _luke_ - ] _chapter xiii_ concluding carol service of the nineteenth century. now, returning from the celebrations of christmas in distant parts of the world, we conclude our historic account of the great christian festival by recording the pleasure with which we attended the concluding carol service of the nineteenth century at a fine old english cathedral--the recently restored and beautiful cathedral at lichfield, whose triple spires are seen and well known by travellers on the trent valley portion of the london and north western main line of railway which links london with the north. [illustration: lichfield cathedral (_by permission of mr. a. c. lomax's successors lichfield_)] christmas carols have been sung at lichfield from long before the time of "the mighty offa," king of the mercians, in whose days and by whose influence lichfield became for a time an archiepiscopal see, being elevated to that dignity by pope adrian, in . and, in the seventeenth century, the deanery of lichfield was conferred upon the rev. griffin higgs, the writer of the events connected with the exhibition of "the christmas prince" at st. john's college, oxford, in , whose authentic account of these interesting historical events will be found in an earlier chapter of this work. the christmas carols at lichfield cathedral, sung by the full choir at the special evening service on st. stephen's day (december th), have, for many years, attracted large and appreciative congregations, and the last of these celebrations in the nineteenth century (on december , ) was well sustained by the singers and attended by many hundreds of citizens and visitors. eight christmas carols and an anthem were sung, the concluding carol being "the first nowell"; and the organist (mr. j. b. lott, mus. bac., oxon) played the pastoral symphony from sullivan's "light of the world," mendelssohn's march ("cornelius"), the pastoral symphony from handel's "messiah," and other exquisite voluntaries. from the anthem, e. h. sears's beautiful verses beginning "it came upon the midnight clear, that glorious song of old," set to stainer's music and well sung, we quote the concluding predictive stanza: "for lo, the days are hast'ning on, by prophet-bards foretold, when with the ever-circling years comes round the age of gold; when peace shall over all the earth its ancient splendours fling, and the whole world give back the song which now the angels sing." [illustration] index a abbot of misrule, (_see_ also lord of misrule) abbot of westminster, abdication of richard cromwell, abingdon, , aboard the _sunbeam_, abolition of christmas celebration attempted, abraham, abyssinia, "adam bell," adam's _noël_, adams, herbert h., , addison, _adeste fideles_, _adieu les rois_, adrian, pope, advent of christ, the, ; season of the, ; date of the, advertisement, curious, "aerra geola" (december), africa, africa, south, agincourt, agrippina, wife of claudius, aidan, columbian monk, ajaccio, alban, st., albert, prince consort, albemarle, lady, aldrich, commander pelham, ale, , , , , , , alexander, king of the scots, alexander severus, alexandria, alfred the great, king, all hallowtide, , almaine accoutrements, "almes" at christmas, , - almoner, lord high, alsatians, alwyn, walter, amadas, rob, ambassadors, foreign, ambleteuse, brittany, ambrose, st., america, - amours of henry viii., amusements, , , , - ancaster heath, andalusia, andrew, st., andrewes, bishop, _andromeda tetragona_, angel, the, appears unto joseph, ; unto the shepherds, angels' song, , anger, "angleesh blom-bodding," angles, king of the, anglo-norman language, anglo-saxon kings, anglo-saxons, , angouleme, duchess, angus, scotland, anjou wine, annan, dumfriesshire, anne, daughter of frederick iii., king of denmark, anne, queen, anne, wife of richard iii., annunciation, the, , anointing cattle, anselm, archbishop, antioch, ; the church at, ; prince of, antiochus epiphanes, antipodes, ara coeli, church of, "archæologia," archbishops' quarrel, archduchess marie valerie, arctic regions, - aristophanes, armenian church, the, armour under robes, arnot, s., "arraignment of christmas," the, artaki bay, arthur, king, and his knights, , , arthur, prince of wales, arundel, earl of, , , astley, sir john, aston, near birmingham, athelney, attainder, attire, magnificent, attorney-general, aubrey, , , audley, lord, augusta, princess, augustine, st., , australia, austria, , austria, archduke of, ; duke of, b "babe cake," babingley, babylon, , _bacchanalia_, , , bacchus, bacon, lord, , , baden, marquis of, bagpipes, baker, chronicler, balancing, feats of, balliol, edward, balls, , , baltimore, lord, banks island reindeer, banquetings, , , , - , , , banqueting-night ceremonies, _barabrith_, barbadoes, barclay alexander, barne, sir george, "baron of beef," "baron's yule feast," barons, , barriers, at, barristers singing and dancing, barrow, isaac, barry, sir charles, barthe, master george, "batt upon batt," bay of mercy, beamonde, lord of, bear-baiting, , beatrice, princess, beaufitz, john, beaumont, beauties, court, becket, st. thomas, bedchambers, fifteenth century, bede, the venerable, bedford, bellman, the, bells, christmas, , belshazzar, belton, mr., belvoir castle, , benevolence, - bengel, berkeley, , ; lord henry, berkshire, berlin, bermondsey, berners, lord, , berri, duchess, bertha, queen, berwick, besieged paris, bethlehem, , betterton, bevis of southampton, billiards, bills of fare, fifteenth century, bird, birds' dinner, birth of christ, ; date of, blackborough priory, blackburn, mr. francis, black prince, blake, mr. andrew, blanchard, laman, blenheim mansion, blessington, countess of, blindman's buff, , , blue jackets, boar, wild, , , , boar's head ceremony, - , , bocking, john, bohemia, queen of, "bold slasher," boleyn, anne, bolingbroke, henry of, bonbonnieres, bonfires, , bonner, bishop, boswell, bosworth field, , bountifulness, , bounty royal, bourchier, archbishop, bourchier, john, bouvines, battle of, bowyer, richard, boy bishop, , , boyhood's christmas breaking-up, boy-king taken to tower, brabant, states of, brahmins, brand, , , , brandon, charles, brandon, sir william, brant, sebastian, brassey, lady, brave, blood of the, , , brawn, , brazil, breda, breton, nicholas, bridgewater, bridgewater, earl of, brill, vale of aylesbury, brilliant episodes, , , , , brinsford, bristol, , british india, british museum, , , , , , , , brito, richard, britons, ancient, , brittany, brompton, brooke, george, brothers, royal, at the tower, browne, general, brown, sir sam., browning, robert, , bruges, , buchan, _buche-de-noël_, buckeridge, bishop, buckhurst, lord, buckingham, duke of, buckingham, lord, buckinghamshire peasants, bull, dr., bull-baiting, bunbury, mrs., bun-loaf, burford downs, burgundy, duke of, burgundy, house of, burlesque court, burney, burnham, buckinghamshire, burton, robert, bury, , bushell, sir edward, buttry, william, bydnyak, or yule-log, byzantium, c cabul river, cade, john, caer caradoc, cæsars, the, cæsarea, the church at, cakes, , , calais, , , calathumpians, the vagabond, caledonian custom, "caliburne," the "gude sword," caludon, near coventry, calvados, cambridge, camden society, camp fire, campion, camulodunum, bishop of, canada, , candle illuminations , , candlemas, , , canning, w., canons of christchurch, canterbury, , , ; monks of, canterbury cathedral, canterbury, archbishop of, , , , canute, king, cape de verd islands, cape finisterre, caradoc (called caractacus), card-playing, , , , , , , , , , , carew, carleton, sir dudley, , carlisle, carminow, john, carnival, carols, , , carol service, , carol-singer luther, carol-singing, caroline, queen, car, or ker, robert, carvell, sir henry, cary, sir robert, casemanche, cassel, dr., germany, castanet, castellated mansion, castles, , , , catacombs of rome, catches, catesby, cawarden, sir thomas, , cecil, sir william, celebrations in times of persecution, central germany, ceremonies for christmas day, ceremonies for grand christmas, cern, chaldeans, challon, challoner, thomas, chamberlain to the king, chamberlain to the queen, chamberlaine, john, , , chambers of pleasance, chamber of presence, champions of diana, channel islands, chapel royal, , , chardai, charibert, king, charlemagne, emperor, , charles augustus, emperor, charles i., , , , , charles ii., charles, prince, hiding in an oak, charles v. of spain, charter, the great, signed, chaucer, , , , cheetle, cherwell, cheshunt, hertfordshire, chess, , , chester, earl of, cheu fu chefoo, chevalier, rev. w. a. c, chichester, bishop of, , childermas day, , children of the chapel royal, , , children's treat, , chili, china, chios, - chippenham, chit-chat, , chivalric usages, , , , christiania, _christ-kirche_, christmas--the origin and associations of, ; the word "christmas," its orthography and meaning, ; words in welsh, scotch, french, italian, and spanish representing christmas, ; an acrostic spelling christmas, ; the earlier celebrations of, ; fixing the date of, ; christmas the _festorum omnium metropolis_, ; its connection with ancient festivals, ; christmas-boxes and presents, , , , , , , , , , - , , , , - , ; candles, , , ; cards, ; ceremonies, , ; customs depicted in a carol, ; eve, , , - , , - ; "grand," ; island, ; lord, , , , , , , , ; prince, ; at sea, , , , ; tree, , , , , , , , (see also other items in the index arranged alphabetically). chrysostom, st., church parade, church reforms of cardinal wolsey, church shows, cicilie, ladie, cider, cinque ports, barons of, city and country feasts compared, civil war, clappart, herr von, clarence, duke of, , classical and christian elements, claudius, fourth roman emperor, clement of alexandria, clement ix., tomb of, clerical players, cleves, anne of, clifford, lord, , closheys (ninepins), clothing, cloth of gold, clyde, lord, clymme of clough, cnut, king, cobham, lord, "cob-loaf stealing," cockpit, collar-day at court, colebrooke, mr., coleridge, s. t., colleges' festivities, , , , collier, , colonist, english, columbine, columbus, christopher, combats, inspiriting, comedies and tragedies, latin, comedies, comically cruel incident, commonwealth, communicants apprehended, "complaint of christmas," _concilium africanum_, conger, conjurors, consort, prince, - conspiracy against the king, constable marshal, constantine the great, ; church of st. constantine, constantinople, , , ; emperor of, cooper, sir astley, cooper, t., cooper, thomas, corbeuil, archbishop, cordova, cornelius, a roman centurion, cornhill, london, corniche road, cornisse, mr., cornwall, , cornwall, the duchy of, cornwall, barry, cornwall, sir gilbert, cornwallis, sir charles, coronation of edward iii., _corpus christi_, festival of, corsica, costly garments, costumes ablaze, cottage christmas-keeping, fourteenth century, cotterell, sir clement, cotton, cotton mss., council of arles, council of auxerre, councils, great, country festivities, , , courrieres, lord of, court entertainments, , . (see other items under sovereigns' names.) court fool, , , court leet and baron, court masques, - coventry, , , , , cox, captain, crackers, cranbourne, ralph, cranes' flesh, cranmer, archbishop, crecy, creighton, crimean christmas, croatians, cromwell, oliver, cromwell, richard, cromwell, thomas, , crowne, _croyland chronicler_, , crusades, the, , cuba, _cuisine_, cumberland, cumberland, earl of, cumnor custom, cupids, _cyflath_, cymbals, cyprian, bishop of carthage, cyprus, ; king of, cyril, st., of jerusalem, d dacre, lord, dakka, dalmatians, "damon and pythias," dancers, , ; dancing, , , , , , , , , , dane, a firework artificer, danes, , , , danube, darey, sir thomas, david, city of, david, king of scotland, , david, st., dawson, mr. george, day, john, aldersgate, days of "good queen bess," de beauchamp, william, de broc, the family of, december, , , decking, , , , , , , decline of christmas, de comines, philip, decorations, . (_see also_ "decking.") d'egville, "delights of christmas," dellegrout, de molis, sir nicholas, demonology, , de montfort, simon, denby, denison, hon. mr. and the misses, denis, st., , denmark, , de patteshall, hugh, dependents feasting, deposition of edward ii., _de præfecto ludorum_, deptford dockyard, derby, countess dowager of, dersingham, desborough, de tracy, william, detroit, devon, earl of, devonshire, , de worde, w., diana, diana hunting, a masque, dice, , dickens, charles, , dieppe, dimmick, mrs., dinah, dingwell, lord, dinners to , poor, diocletian's atrocities, dionysius exiguus, dipmore end, disguisings, , , , , d'israeli, "dissipation and negligence," dissolution of monasteries, distributions to the poor, , , diversions, , , , , , , , - , diverting ditties, - divinings, "doctor," ; medical, "domesday book," donne, doran, dr., , dorset, countess of, dorset, marquis of, dover, , dragon's heads, &c, dramatic displays, , - , - , dramatist, england's greatest, drinkhail, drinks, (see "ale," "mead," &c.) druidical plant, , druidism, , , drums, , dryden, dublin, dudley, lord robert, dugdale, sir william, , , , dunn, harriett, dunois, dunstan's churchyard, st., durham, durham, bishop of, dutchmen display fireworks, dwarfs, e ealdred, archbishop, earl marshal, early celebrations in britain, eastern churches, the, , , edgar, king, edinburgh, the late duke of, edmondes, sir thomas, edmund, archbishop, edmundsbury, st., edmund, son of ethelred, edric, the saxon, edric, earl of northumberland, edward the confessor, edward, prince, edward, st., edward i., edward ii., edward iii., edward iv., , , , edward v., edward vi., , , , edward the black prince, edwards, richard, , edwin's chiefs, king, effect of season, "egeria," h.m.s., egg-nogg, egg saturday, egmont, count of, eija, , eisenach, eisleben, eleanor of aquitane, eleanor of castile, eleanor of provence, eleutherius, bishop of rome, elizabeth, eldest daughter of edward iv. elizabeth, princess (afterwards queen), , elizabeth, princess of austria, elizabeth, queen, , , , , elizabeth of york, ellis, el teb, eltham, , , , , ely, bishop of, ely, monks of, emma, the lady, , england, english court, english exiles, entertainments, , , , , , epiphany, , , , , , episcopal cautions, ernalton of spayne, errant, knights, essex, earl of, ethelbert, king of kent, ethelred, king, , , ethelwine, bishop, eusebius, evelyn, john, , , evelyn, richard, ewald, excursionists, exeter, exeter cathedral, exeter chapel, exeter, duchess of, excesses, anglo-saxon, ; norman, expenditure for christmas-keeping, - experiences, christmas, f fabian, "fabliau of sir cleges," fair, christmas, fairies, , fairy-bowl, fallow, mr. t. m., f.s.a., - fare, enormous, farnaby, farrar, dean, fatally burnt in christmas costumes, "father christmas," favourites of james i., feast in the hall, feats of arms, , , , , , , fenwick, sir john, , ferrers, george, , "ferrex and porrex," _festa natalazie_, festival in scotland, the, festivities in the seventeenth century, fêtes, finland, fire, the all-attracting, at christmas, , , , fire at king's palace, fire in middle of halls, , first english tragedy, first footing in scotland, "first nowell," the, , fitzstephen, fitz urse, reginald, fitzwilliam, lord admiral, fitzwilliam, sir william, five articles of james i., "five bells of magdalen church," fleet, the, fleetwood, flemings, fletcher, flodden field, flohr, madame appoline, _florentine, old,_ flowers, , foiz, erle of, "fool's dance," the, fool, or jester, , , , forbes, mr. archibald, forest of dean, foresters, lady, foresters and huntsmen in play, , forfeits, - forte, mr., fosse, the, foster, birket, illustrations by, , , , , , , , , , , "foula reel," the, france, , , , , - francis ii., emperor, franco-german war, "franklin's tale," the, fraser, sir simon, free-lunches at hotels, freeman, william, , , , french embassy, fretevel, friars, , friday street tavern, friscobald, leonard, froissart, sir john, , , frost, hard, of , frozen regions, fuller, fur-clad revellers, g gairdner, mr. james, gaities, gala, galerius, gambia, gambols, , , , , games, , , , , , , garden of pleasure, garrard, rev. g., garret, mr. edward, garrick, david, , , gascoigne, gascon wine, gaul, gaunt, john of, gay, john, geikie, dr., generosity, , gentlemen of the chapel royal, , _gentleman's magazine_, gentry, , . (_also see_ items under names of "gentry.") geoffrey of monmouth, , , geological society, george i., george ii., george ii., costumes, george iii., george iv., george's chapel, st., windsor, george, king of bohemia, george, prince, george, st., village of, george, st., and the dragon, , germans, , , , , , germany, emperor and empress of, "germania," _gesta grayorum_, ghost stories, , , , giants, gifford, , gifts, , , , , , , , , giles, giles's christian mission, st., giles fields, st., london, "gillie cullum," gipps, mr. richard, giraldus cambrensis, gleemen, , (_also see_ "minstrels.") "_gloria in excelsis_," gloucester, , gloucester, duke of, gloucestershire, sheriff of, goblins of the "iliad," goddesses and huntresses, godwin, house of, goffe, gold coast, golden play at court, goldsmith, oliver, "good old fashion," googe, barnaby, goose-pie, "gorboduc," , gorgeous apparelling, gosford street, coventry, gospatric, gourdon, sir robert, "governance lord," "gracious time," a, graduals, grand entertainments, , - "grand christmas" ceremonies, grand guiser, grant, granthuse, lord of, grape gathering, grattan, gray's inn, , , , , , , , gray's inn list of performers, - great houses, gregory nazianzen, bishop, gregory the great--his _antiphonary_, ; his story about english slaves, ; sends augustine to england, greek church show, greek empire, green, j. r., , greenland, , greenwich, , , , greenwich hospital gathering, grey de ruthyn, lord, grey, lady jane, and her husband, grey, lord richard, griffiths, william, "grimston, young," groceries, grose, guildford, , guising, gunhild, gunning, mr., gustavus, guy of warwick, gybson, richard, h "hackin, the," , haddon hall, , _hagmenae_, "halig monath" (holy month), hallam, hall, chronicler, , hall, a gentleman's, , halstead, hamilton, marquesse of, "hamlet," , hampton court, , handel, hanover, "hansa," the, "happy land," the, harefield, harefleur, hare soup, harleian, ms., , harlequin, "harlequin sorcerer," harold i., son of canute, harold ii., son of godwin, harpers, , , harrison, president, and mrs., harthacnut, haselrig, haslewood, mr. joseph, , , hastings, battle of, hastings, lord, , hatfield house, , hat of estate, royal, hatton, lady, hawaii, hawking, , hay, lord, heathenish practices, hebrew and hellenic elements, heine, henrich, helena of york, heliogabalus, helmes, mr. henry, hemans, mrs., hems, mr. harry, hengest, henley-on-thames, henrietta maria, henry, cardinal of winchester, henry i., henry ii., , henry iii., , henry iv., henry v., ; widow of, henry vi., , , , henry of richmond, henry vii., marries elizabeth of york, henry viii., ; becomes head of church, henry v. of germany, henry, prince, son of james i., , "henry, prince of purpoole," herald angels, the (a poem), heralds and pursuivants, herbert, sir philip, hereford, duke of, herod, king, herons, herrick, robert, , "hesperides," the, , heton, heynalte, syr john, heywood, a player, higgs, griffin, writer of the "christmas prince," , high festival at court, highgate, highlands, hilary's day, st., hilo, hinds' and maids' festivities, hippodrome, hobbyhorse, the, hobgoblins, hochstetter, professor, hogges, village of, holbein, hans, , holinshed, , , holland, governor of, holland, lord, hollington, near hastings, hollis, sir william, holst, duke of, holt, sir, holly, , "holly bough, under the," holy evenings, holy land, homage in the fifteenth century, hone, , , honey and wine, hood, thomas, hoop and hide, hooton roberts, horses gaily caparisoned, hospitality, , , , , , , - , hostilities suspended for christmas-day, , hot cockles, , , houghton chapel, household book of henry vii., household book of henry viii., housekeeping, christmas, house of commons, house of peers, howard family, howard, frances, countess of essex, howitt, mary, "hue and cry after christmas," huet, sir john, huish, humber, the, humphrey, duke of gloucester, hungary, ; king of, hunting, , huntingdon, earl of, ; countess of, hunt the slipper, , hussars, th, hussey, sir richard, hypocras, i iceberg, christmas upon an, ice-bound regions, ice sports, , , - ideler, illuminations at hampton court, immanuel, , india, indian ocean, ingenuities and devices, inner temple, , , innocents' day, , , inns of court, , , , , interludes, , interruptions of festivities, , "investigator," the, iona, the monks of, ipomydon, romance of, ipswich, , _ira seu tumulus fortune_, ireland, , irish customs, irish princes and chieftains, irving, washington, , isabel, queen of france, isabella, daughter of edward iii., isaiah, the prophet, italy, italian characters, italian masque, j "jack straw," a masque, jacobites, jade, a charming, jamaica, james i., , , , , james ii., , james iii. of scotland, james iv. of scotland, james's, st., "jane the fool," jellalabad plain, jermyn, sir isaac, ; sir robert, jerome, st., , jerusalem, the church at, jerusalem chamber, "jesus, the nazarene," jhelum, jinks, high, joan of arc, joan of kent, , jocund holiday, john's college, st., oxford, john iii., duke of cleves, john's day, st., , , , , john, king, john of gaunt, john of salisbury, john the baptist, joints of meats, jones, rev. a. g., jones, mr. charles c., jones, mrs. herbert, , jones, inigo, jones, mary, jonson, ben, , , , , , , , jordan, joseph, , jousts, , judas maccabæus, judæan origin of christmas, supposed, jugglers, jule (_see_ yule) "julebukker," julius agricola, julius i., bishop of rome, jupiter, justin martyr, justiciars' extravagance, k katherine of arragon, katherine, wife of henry v., kalends of january, karumpie, ken, bishop, kenilworth castle, , , , , , kent, kent, earldom of, kent, countess of, ; fair maid of, "kepe open court," "kepe open thy door," , , kilaue, kimberley, king and council, king at lord buckingham's, king, josiah, king of christmas, "king of the cockneys," "king of the peak," king of egypt and his daughter, king's deer, king's lynn, king's players, , king's singing men, king's train-bearer, "kingdome's weekly intelligencer," kinloch, kirke, george, kissing bush, , kitts, st., knevet, sir thomas, knights and ladies, playing at, knights of the round table, knights in armour, knight templars, knipton, kyrie eliesons, , l _la blanche nef,_ ladies-in-waiting, lady-bells ring, lady-mass, "lady public weal," ladysmith, lalain, count of, lamb, charles, , - lambeth, , "lamentation," lancastrians, , lanfranc, archbishop, , lanterns, feast of, "largess," a, latimer, hugh, latin and greek verse, laube, dr., laud, dr. (archbishop), , launcelot, sir, laurel, , laurel blent with cypress, lavaine, sir, lavish entertainments, law, christmas, ancient, lawes, henry, leaping, , leech, john, lee's "mithridates," leeds, , legend of st. nicholas, leicester, earl of, , leigh, gerard, leland, lenox, duke of, leo, pope, leon, king of armenia, leon von rozmital, leonard's chime, st., lerwick, letter missions, leyden, library, st. john's college, lichfield cathedral, , ; deanery of, , lincoln, , lincoln, earl of, lincoln's inn, , , lincolnshire, linlithgow, lion and antelope as performers, lions' heads, lisbon, lists of combat, literature, , llanfairpyllycrochon, llewellyn, prince of wales, log-fires, , lollards, london, , , , , , , , , , london, bishop of, , longchamps, william, bishop of ely, longe, john, , longfellow, , , , lord chamberlain, , lord chamberlain's players, lord mayor of london, lord mayor and lord of misrule at loggerheads, lord of misrule, , , , , , , , , , , , lord president of wales, lord treasurer, lorrainers, loseley, surrey, lott, mr. j. b., louis of france, lambert, louis, st., "love's triumph," lucius verus, "luck of christ," the, ludlow, , luke, st., , luther, martin, "lying valet," lyly's plays, lyson's "magna britannia," m macaulay, lord, machinists, ingenious, mackay, dr. charles, madden, sir frederick, madeley, shropshire, , mafeking, magdalen college, oxford, , magdalene college, cambridge, magi, the, , , _magna charta_, magnificence, , magnus, st., maid of kent, fair, , maid marians, mainard, john, mallard, john, malory, sir thomas, malta, manger, superb substitutes for, manners, lord and lady john, manners, sir john, manor, ancient, , mansfeld, mansions, manuel, emperor, maori pa, march, earl of, marcus aurelius antonius, margaret, daughter of henry iii., margaret of anjou, , margaret, daughter of henry vii., mark's, st., venice, marlboro', marlborough, duchess of, ; duke of, "marmion," marriage festivities, , , , , , - marseilles, marteaux (a game with balls), martial music, martigny, george, martin, martin's, st., canterbury, martyn, john, martyrs, british, mary, the mother of jesus, , , mary, st., mary, princess (afterwards queen), ; her accession, ; queen, , maryland, mary, queen, wife of william iii., mason, masquerade, , , masques, , , , , , , , , , , , , , ; rustic masque, massacres of christians, massinger, philip, , "master christmas," master of the children, the, master of the revels, , , , (_see also_ lord of misrule) matilda, empress, daughter of henry i., , matilda, queen of henry i., matins, matthew, st., maud, general, maupigyrum, mauritius, mayor and aldermen of london, , mayor of canterbury mobbed, mcclure, sir r., mead, meade, mr., , mediterranean, , , medley of nymphs, savages, &c., melbourne, "meliades," melrose, memphis, mendelssohn, men of kent, mephistopheles, mercia, , "merciless parliament," "_mercurius academicus_," "_mercurius civicus_," mermaid inn, "merry boys of christmas," merry disports, lord of, (_see also_ master of the revels) "merry in the hall," merry tales, merton college, oxford, "messiah," , metrical romance, mexborough, michell, sir francis, middle temple, , middleton tower, norfolk, midnight mass, , midwinter customs in the north, mildmay, sir henry, milford haven, millbrook, southampton, miller, thomas, mills, milner, dr., milton, , , mimics, "mince-pie," minerva, the goddess, minstrels, , , , , , , , miracles at becket's sepulchre, miracle plays, , "_misa del gallo_," "_misa di lux_," miscomia, misrule (_see_ "lord of misrule") missionary's christmas, mission to deep sea fishermen, mistletoe, , , , , , , , m'kee, mr. and mrs., modern christmases at home, modern christmases abroad, "modern intelligencer," the, mohnpielen, monk, general, monks, merry, , monson, sir william, monstrelet, monte carlo, montegele, lord, montgomery, , morat, moray, earl of, more, mr., of loseley, morley, lady, morley, professor henry, , , , , morrice dance, mortimer, anne, morville, hugh de, mosaics, , mother of the maids, motley throng, mowbrays, moyle, thomas, muddle, general, mumming, , , , , , murray, sir andrew, muschamp, sir thomas, music, musicians, musk veal, mysteries, n "_naogeorgus_," naples, napoleon bonaparte, naseby, nativity, place of the, ; church and convent of the, ; feast of the, ; massacres at the, ; sermons on the, - navarre, navidad discovered, negroes' merry christmas, negro minstrels, neighbours and tenants, , nelson, new zealand, nero, , netherlands, neville's cross, neville, sir richard, nevil, lord, , newark-on-trent, new brunswick, newcastle-upon-tyne, new england puritans, new forest, newmarket, , new style, newton, sir isaac, , new year's day, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , new zealand, nicholas's day, st., nichols, , , , , , , , - nicomedia, nigellus, novgorod, nip, "nippin grund," the, noblemen, , (see others named) _noche-buena_, nocturnal office, noël or nowell, , , , , , nonconformists, norfolk, , , "norman baron," the, - norman celebrations, , norman conquest helped, norman-french customs, normandy, dukedom of, normandy, , , northampton, marquis of, northamptonshire, north, mr. thomas, northern nations, north pole, north sea fishermen, north west passage, northumberland, , northumberland, earl of, , ; earldom of, ; duke of, northumberland household book, northumbrians, , norton, thomas, norway, , nottingham, , nova scotia, nuns, , , o oberon, odo, bishop, offa, "the mighty," , officers of "grand christmas," list of, ; of christmas prince, - - ; officers, royal, of arms, oglethorpe, bishop, olaf, king, "old christmas," , , , "old and young courtiers," oldisworth, michael, "open court" of cardinal wolsey, "open house," , opera, the, order of the garter instituted, ordinances of the puritans, orkney isles, orleans, orpheus, , , osborne house, - othbert, ovation to henry v., overbury, sir thomas, ovid, oxford, , , , , , p paganism, , , , pageantry, , , paget, lord, palatine, marriage of, "palemon and arcite," palestine, "pallas, knights of," palmer, mr., lord of misrule, pansch, dr., panting piper, pantomime, , papal legate, pappa westra, paris, , , , , paris, matthew, , paris tournament, parker, lieutenant and mrs., "parlement," parliamentarians, parliament, new houses of, parliament, the first english, parson makes merry with parishioners, parties, "paston letters," , pastoral, "calisto," patriarch of venice, patrick, st., _paulinus_, missionary, paul, mr. howard, paul's cathedral, st., paul's church, st., paul's cross, st., paul st., earl of, paul's school, st., paupers, merry, pavy, salathiel, peacocks, , pegasus, pembroke, the regent, pembroke, countess of, "penelope's wooer," penshurst, kent, - pepys, samuel, , perche, countess of, peres, william, performers, various, , "periander," a tragedy, periodicals, , period of christmas, , , , , perrers, alice, , perth, perry, peshawur, petavius, peter of blois, peter, st., peter the great, of russia, peter's, st., rome, _pétit souper_, petworth, philip of spain, philip and mary, philippa, queen, "philomathes," "philomela," a tragedy, philosopher's game, phoenicia, picnics, picts and scots, , "picturesque europe," _pièce de résistance_, piers gaveston, pigment, pilgrims, pires barnard, pipers, , _place de la madeline_, _place de la république_, plague, the, plantagenets, plato's dialogue, plays, christmas, - , , , , , , , - , , , - playing cards, plum-pudding, , , , , , pocahontas, _poculum charitatis_, poetic pictures of christmas, , , - , , , - , , - , , , , , - , , , poictiers, pointer, poleaxes for pensioners, pole, cardinal, , "pompey," pontefract, , "poor robin's almanack," , , , pope, poet, , "popish customs," so called, popple, john, popular festivities, portugal, , post and pair, , post-office and postmen, poverty at court, prayer books of edward vi., presbytery, presents, , , , , , , , presentation in the temple, _presepio_ (manger), preston, sir richard, priestess, druid, priests bearing relics, priestly practices, , , primate's cruelty, primitive celebrations, "prince charlie," prince of wales, , , prince of wales's strait, princes of germany, , princes play in masques, , privy council, prolongation of revels, promethus, protectorate, the, protestantism of queen elizabeth, provençal plays, - provence, , ; eleanor of, - provision for the poor, - , - prowess, , , , , , prussian royal family, prynne, william, psyche, ptarmigan pasties, _punch_, , puppet shows, , , purification, the, puritan directory, puritanism, purposes, puss-in-the-corner, pynson, printer, q quadrangle, royal, "quartette" cards, queen's college, oxford, queen's gentlewomen, questions and commands, , quintin, , r races, railways, the, raleigh, sir walter, rampini, sheriff, ratcliffe, rathbertus, a priest, reade, mr., "read's weekly journal," "recollections of old christmas," recreations, , redcoats, redmile, roedwald, reformation, , regatta, the christmas, "_regis orator et calamo_," regulations for a grand christmas, reindeer-sleigh of st. nick, rejoicings on french battle ground, relics, sacred, , religious matters, rennes cloth, reresby, sir john, restoration, the, reunions, revels resembling _saturnalia_, revels, called a maskelyn, revels, master of the, (_see also_ "lord of misrule") revels, , , , , , , , revolution, _rex fabarum_, rhedon, rheims cathedral, rhosllanerchrugog, rhosymedre, denbighshire, rhys, brother of gruffydd, richard i. ("_coeur de lion_"), richard ii., richard, duke of gloucester, richard iii., , richard, duke of york, , richard the good, of normandy, rich, christopher, rich, john, richmond, , , , , , richmond, duke of, "richemond manor," open house at, riding school, windsor, riddles, rigden, mr., ripon, rivers, lady, ; earl, rivet, andrew, "roast beef of old england," robert of comines, robes, costly, robin hood, robin hood and his foresters depicted, , rochester, rochester, bishop of, roe, sergeant, roger de coverley, sir, roger mortimer, roland, captain of charlemagne, roman church, roman catholic reaction, roman empire, roman invasion of britain, romantic days, rome, early church at, rome, romish priestly practices, rooke, sir george, rope-dancing, roses united in marriage, rotterham, rouen, , "round about our coal fire," , round table, , , royalists, , royal bounties, , royal festivities, , , , , (_see also_ other festivities recorded under the names of different sovereigns) rowbotham, rowe, rowse, sir john, royston, roxburgh collection (british museum), ruabon, rufus's revelries, rump, the, , running, runnymede, russell, lord john, russia, , , rutland, duke of, , ; janetta, duchess of, ; lord, , s sabine island, sackville, thomas, sailors' gathering, salisbury, earl of, , , salom moss, sanctuary at westminster, sandal castle, sandhurst, berkshire, sandringham, , sandwich island, sandwich islands, sandys, william, f.s.a., , , , , san maria maggiore church, saracens, santa claus, , "saturday review," _saturnalia_, , , , , , , saxon chiefs, saxon sports, scales, lord and lady, , scaliger, "scalloway lasses," scandinavianism, scenic magnificence, schomberg, duke of, scottish annals, , , , , , , , , , , - scotch first-footing, scott, dr., scott, sir walter, , , scripture history plays, sea celebrations, , , sears, e. h., sectaries, segraves, selden, seleucus nicator, senegal, senlac, battle of, "seven champions of christendom," "seven dayes of the weeke," the, sermons, christmas, servants' feasts, , - , servians, settlers, english, seville cathedral, seymour, jane, shaftesbury, shakespeare, , , , , , , , , shaw, dr., shene, , shepherds, , sherwood forest, shetland, "shewes," triumphant, shipwreck on christmas-day, shopping in sleighs, shovelboard, shrewsbury, earl of, shrine of st. peter, shropshire, , , , shrove tuesday, sicily, king of, sidney, sir philip, sieur de nigry, silurians, king of, simeon, sinclair, rev. john, singing, , , , , sirloin of roast beef, siward, sir richard, skating, (see "ice sports") skeleton at bed foot, skinner's wells, skylarking, slade, monty, sladen douglas, b. w., slavs, sleighing, , smith, captain john, smith, dr. walter, smith, sir thomas, smithfield, london, smyth, john, court fool, smyth, matthew, "snap" cards, snapdragon, social festivities, society islands, somerset, duke of, , , somerset, earl of, somerset, sir thomas, somersetshire, somers, will, king's jester, "sonsy haggis" "_sonya_," southampton, earl of, southern merrymaking, southey, souvenirs, spain, , , , , , , , spanish cavaliers, spectacular entertainments, , "spectator," the, speech from the throne, spenser, spithead, sports, , , , , , , , stacy, louis, staffordshire, , , stained glass, modern, stainer, stanley, dean, stanton, mr. w. m., stapleton, lady, star of bethlehem, star chamber, state meetings, , , , ; state worship, - steele, stephen, king, stephen's day, st., , , , , , , steward's department, lord, steward, sir john, "still christmas" of henry viii., stoke abbat, stony stratford, stories of christmastide, , , , , , , stowe, , , , , strafford papers, strange, lady, stratford-upon-avon, strutt, , , , , strype, sturgeon, stuteville, sir martin, , subtleties, , sufed koh, suffolk, suffolk, earl of, , sullivan, sumptuous feasts of normans, superstitions, , , sussex, earl of, sussex, sheriff of, swans, sweden, sweetmeats, swegen, king, swein, king of denmark, swithin, st., winchester, sword-dance, , sword actors, - sword of king arthur, swynford catherine, "synod of westminster," synod of whitby, syria, t tacitus, , taillefer, norman minstrel, talbot, sir john, tallard, marshal, tales, weird, - tallis, tambourine, tancred, king, "tatler," the, taverner, edmund, taylor, john, _te deum_, telesphorus, st., bishop of rome, tempest, great, templars' sports, temple-horn winded, temple of minerva, temples, the, tenants' and labourers' feast, tennyson, , teonge, rev. henry, tetzel, teuton forefathers, our, teuton kinsmen, tewkesbury, thackeray, mr., thames, , thanet, isle of, theatrical exhibitions, , , thelluson, hon. mr. and miss, theobald, archbishop, theobalds, , , theodosius the younger, thewlis, st., thomas, st., thomas, st. (a place), thomas's day, st., , , thomas, thomas, thomas, the misses, thor, , , thorold, sir wilfrid de, thunder (_see_ thor), thurstan, archbishop, thrybergh, tilting, (_see also_ tournament) "time's alteration," "time's complaint," "time's telescope," tobacco, , toffee, tommy atkins, torchlight procession, torksey hall, tostig, earl, tournaments, , , , , , , , , , tower of london, , , , , , towton, toys, tragedy of "gowry," the, traill, mr., transatlantic saxons, transvaal, travelling, ancient, "treason! treason!" cried james i., tricks by animals, trinity college, cambridge, trinity term, triphook, robert, tripoli, triumphs of the tournament, trumpeters, trumpets, , trunks, small, "truth," in pageantry, tucker, thomas, the elected prince, tudela, benjamin of, tudor, edmund, jasper, owen, tumbling, , turkeys, , "turkish knight," "turkish magistrates," turnham green, tusser, thomas, , , twelfthtide, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , twelve days of christmas, , , , tyrrel, sir walter, tytler, general, u udall, nicholas, ukraine, ule (_see_ yule) uniformity, act of, united states, , - _uphelya_, "ups and downs of christmas," the, "_ursa minor_," usher, ushers, gentlemen, uvedale, lord of wickham manor, v valorous deeds, vane, variety of players, vaughan, master, vawce, sergeant, "venetian senators," venice, , vere, earl of oxford, vere, lady susan, vernon, dorothy, versailles, vespers, viands, victoria, queen, , - victoria's grandchildren, queen, vienna, vigil of christmas, , vigilate, a, "vindication of father christmas," the, vineyard of pleasure, vintage, the, violins, virgil's _eclogues_, virginian colonists, virgin mary, image of the, visors depicted in verse, vivian, sir francis, ; mr. vivian, volcano, w waits, , wakefield, battle of, wales, , , , , wales, prince and princess of, , , wallingford, , wanjani, ward, rev. john, warning shots, warren, earl of, warrior-king (edward iii.), warriors rewarded, wars of barons, wars of roses, wars of roses ended, war suspended for christmas, , warton, author, warwick, earl of, , , , warwick muses, warwickshire, , wash, the, wassail, , , , "wassail bowl," , wassailing the apple-trees, - washburn, ex-minister e. b., washington negroes, wattewille, monsieur robert, "weekly account," the, "_weihnacten_," "_weihnactt's bescheerung_," "welcome to christmas," welcome to all comers, , , , wellington, welsh border, , welsh christmas, - western church, the, west kington, westminster, , , , , , , westminster abbey, , , , , westminster hall, , , , , , , , , weston, dr., west riding of yorkshire, - west newton, whalley, colonel, wheatley, mr. w. m., whippingham, white, sir thomas, whitehall, , whitelock, "white rose of york," whittier, j. g., wild boar, , , , william, prince of orange, william and mary, william iv., william the almoner, william the conqueror, william, king of prussia, william rufus, william, son of henry i., william of malmesbury, william of ypres, williams, willoughby, lord, winchester, , , , , ; monks of, winchester, bishop of, winchester palace, , winchester school, windsor, , , , , , , , , , wine and honey, winer, winters, hard, , , - winter solstice, , , winwood, mr., wise men (magi), , , wise men (the king's), , , witches, , "wit-combats," witenagemot, wither, george, , wizard of christmas, woden, , wolf, wolferton, wolley, sir francis, wolsey, cardinal, , , women masks, wood, mr., , , woodstock, woodville, elizabeth, woodville family, woolsthorpe, , worcester, , , ; earl of, , workhouse, christmas at, worksop, worship in state, - wortley, near leeds, wotton, wrestling, wright, thomas, f.s.a., wyatt, sir thomas, wykeham, william of, wynh, lady williams, wynn, sir w. w., bart., wynnstay park, _wyrcester, william_, , x xtemas, y yeoman, yew, york, , , , , , york, archbishop of, , york, bishop of, york, duchess of, york, duke of, the young, york, wars of, yorkshire, , - yule, jule, or ule, , , , yule-log, , , , , "yuletide," , , , z _zambombas_, zanzibar, zukkur kehls, [illustration: "'to the health of the count!'" see p. ] the christmas kalends of provence and some other provenÇal festivals * * * * * by thomas a. janvier sÒci dÒu felibrige author of "in old new york" "the passing of thomas" "in great waters" etc. _illustrated_ * * * * * harper & brothers publishers new york and london copyright, , by harper & brothers. _all rights reserved._ published november, . to c. a. j. contents page the christmas kalends of provence a feast-day on the rhÔne the comÉdie franÇaise at orange illustrations "'to the health of the count!'" _frontispiece_ at the well _facing p._ planting saint barbara's grain " elizo's old father " magali " the passing of the kings " "the blind girl"--noËl " the landing-place at tournon " the defile of donzÈre " the roumanille monument " avignon " general view of the theatre " "it looked treasons, conspiracies and mutinous " outbursts" the great faÇade " scene from the first act of "oedipus" " scene from the second act of "antigone" " the christmas kalends of provence i fancy you've journeyed down the rhône, fancy you've passed vienne, valence, fancy you've skirted avignon-- and so are come _en pleine_ provence. fancy a mistral cutting keen across the sunlit wintry fields, fancy brown vines, and olives green, and blustered, swaying, cypress shields. fancy a widely opened door, fancy an eager outstretched hand, fancy--nor need you ask for more-- a heart-sped welcome to our land. fancy the peal of christmas chimes, fancy that some long-buried year is born again of ancient times-- and in provence take christmas cheer! in my own case, this journey and this welcome were not fancies but realities. i had come to keep christmas with my old friend monsieur de vièlmur according to the traditional provençal rites and ceremonies in his own entirely provençal home: an ancient dwelling which stands high up on the westward slope of the alpilles, overlooking arles and tarascon and within sight of avignon, near the rhône margin of provence. the vidame--such is monsieur de vièlmur's ancient title: dating from the vigorous days when every proper bishop, himself not averse to taking a breather with sword and battle-axe should fighting matters become serious, had his _vice dominus_ to lead his forces in the field--is an old-school country gentleman who is amiably at odds with modern times. while tolerant of those who have yielded to the new order, he himself is a great stickler for the preservation of antique forms and ceremonies: sometimes, indeed, pushing his fancies to lengths that fairly would lay him open to the charge of whimsicality, were not even the most extravagant of his crotchets touched and mellowed by his natural goodness of heart. in the earlier stages of our acquaintance i was disposed to regard him as an eccentric; but a wider knowledge of provençal matters has convinced me that he is a type. under his genial guidance it has been my privilege to see much of the inner life of the provençaux, and his explanations have enabled me to understand what i have seen: the vidame being of an antiquarian and bookish temper, and never better pleased than when i set him to rummaging in his memory or his library for the information which i require to make clear to me some curious phase of provençal manners or ways. the château de vièlmur has remained so intimately a part of the middle ages that the subtle essence of that romantic period still pervades it, and gives to all that goes on there a quaintly archaic tone. the donjon, a prodigiously strong square tower dating from the twelfth century, partly is surrounded by a dwelling in the florid style of two hundred years back--the architectural flippancies of which have been so tousled by time and weather as to give it the look of an old beau caught unawares by age and grizzled in the midst of his affected youth. in the rear of these oddly coupled structures is a farm-house with a dependent rambling collection of farm-buildings; the whole enclosing a large open court to which access is had by a vaulted passage-way, that on occasion may be closed by a double set of ancient iron-clamped doors. as the few exterior windows of the farm-house are grated heavily, and as from each of the rear corners of the square there projects a crusty tourelle from which a raking fire could be kept up along the walls, the place has quite the air of a testy little fortress--and a fortress it was meant to be when it was built three hundred years and more ago (the date, , is carved on the keystone of the arched entrance) in the time of the religious wars. but now the iron-clamped doors stand open on rusty hinges, and the court-yard has that look of placid cheerfulness which goes with the varied peaceful activities of farm labour and farm life. chickens and ducks wander about it chattering complacently, an aged goat of a melancholy humour stands usually in one corner lost in misanthropic thought, and a great flock of extraordinarily tame pigeons flutters back and forth between the stone dove-cote rising in a square tower above the farm-house and the farm well. [illustration: at the well] this well--enclosed in a stone well-house surmounted by a very ancient crucifix--is in the centre of the court-yard, and it also is the centre of a little domestic world. to its kerb come the farm animals three times daily; while as frequently, though less regularly, most of the members of the two households come there too; and there do the humans--notably, i have observed, if they be of different sexes--find it convenient to rest for a while together and take a dish of friendly talk. from the low-toned chattering and the soft laughter that i have heard now and then of an evening i have inferred that these nominally chance encounters are not confined wholly to the day. by simple machinery (of which the motive-power is an aged patient horse, who is started and left then to his own devices; and who works quite honestly, save that now and then he stops in his round and indulges himself in a little doze) the well-water is raised continuously into a long stone trough. thence the overflow is led away to irrigate the garden of the château: an old-fashioned garden, on a slope declining southward and westward, abounding in balustraded terraces and stone benches stiffly ornate, and having here and there stone nymphs and goddesses over which in summer climbing roses kindly (and discreetly) throw a blushing veil. the dependent estate is a large one: lying partly on the flanks of the alpilles, and extending far outward from the base of the range over the level region where the rhône valley widens and merges into the valley of the durance. on its highest slopes are straggling rows of almond trees, which in the early spring time belt the grey mountains with a broad girdle of delicate pink blossoms; a little lower are terraced olive-orchards, a pale shimmering green the year round--the olive continuously casting and renewing its leaves; and the lowest level, the wide fertile plain, is given over to vineyards and wheat-fields and fields of vegetables (grown for the paris market), broken by plantations of fruit-trees and by the long lines of green-black cypress which run due east and west across the landscape and shield the tender growing things from the north wind, the mistral. the château stands, as i have said, well up on the mountain-side; and on the very spot (i must observe that i am here quoting its owner) where was the camp in which marius lay with his legions until the time was ripe for him to strike the blow that secured southern gaul to rome. this matter of marius is a ticklish subject to touch on with the vidame: since the fact must be admitted that other antiquaries are not less firm in their convictions, nor less hot in presenting them, that the camp of the roman general was variously elsewhere--and all of them, i regret to add, display a lamentable acerbity of temper in scouting each other's views. indeed, the subject is of so irritating a complexion that the mere mention of it almost surely will throw my old friend--who in matters not antiquarian has a sweetness of nature rarely equalled--into a veritable fuming rage. but even the antiquaries are agreed that, long before the coming of the romans, many earlier races successively made on this mountain promontory overlooking the rhône delta their fortified home: for here, as on scores of other defensible heights throughout provence, the merest scratching of the soil brings to light flints and potshards which tell of varied human occupancy in very far back times. and the antiquaries still farther are agreed that precisely as these material relics (only a little hidden beneath the present surface of the soil) tell of diverse ancient dwellers here, so do the surviving fragments of creeds and customs (only a little hidden beneath the surface of provençal daily life) tell in a more sublimate fashion of those same vanished races which marched on into eternity in the shadowy morning of time. for this is an old land, where many peoples have lived their spans out and gone onward--yet have not passed utterly away. far down in the popular heart remnants of the beliefs and of the habits of those ancients survive, entranced: yet not so numbed but that, on occasion, they may be aroused into a life that still in part is real. even now, when the touch-stone is applied--when the thrilling of some nerve of memory or of instinct brings the present into close association with the past--there will flash into view still quick particles of seemingly long-dead creeds or customs rooted in a deep antiquity: the faiths and usages which of old were cherished by the kelto-ligurians, phoenicians, grecians, romans, goths, saracens, whose blood and whose beliefs are blended in the christian race which inhabits provence to-day. ii in the dominion of vièlmur there is an inner empire. nominally, the vidame is the reigning sovereign; but the power behind his throne is misè fougueiroun. the term "misè" is an old-fashioned provençal title of respect for women of the little bourgeoisie--tradesmen's and shopkeepers' wives and the like--that has become obsolescent since the revolution and very generally has given place to the fine-ladyish "madamo." with a little stretching, it may be rendered by our english old-fashioned title of "mistress"; and misè fougueiroun, who is the vidame's housekeeper, is mistress over his household in a truly masterful way. this personage is a little round woman, still plumply pleasing although she is rising sixty, who is arrayed always with an exquisite neatness in the dress--the sober black-and-white of the elder women, not the gay colours worn by the young girls--of the pays d'arles; and--although shortness and plumpness are at odds with majesty of deportment--she has, at least, the peremptory manner of one long accustomed to command. as is apt to be the way with little round women, her temper is of a brittle cast and her hasty rulings sometimes smack of injustice; but her nature (and this also is characteristic of her type) is so warmly generous that her heart easily can be caught into kindness on the rebound. the vidame, who in spite of his antiquarian testiness is something of a philosopher, takes advantage of her peculiarities to compass such of his wishes as happen to run counter to her laws. his machiavellian policy is to draw her fire by a demand of an extravagant nature; and then, when her lively refusal has set her a little in the wrong, handsomely to ask of her as a favour what he really requires--a method that never fails of success. by my obviously sincere admiration of the château and its surroundings, and by a discreet word or two implying a more personal admiration--a tribute which no woman of the pays d'arles ever is too old to accept graciously--i was so fortunate as to win misè fougueiroun's favour at the outset; a fact of which i was apprised on the evening of my arrival--it was at dinner, and the housekeeper herself had brought in a bottle of precious châteauneuf-du-pape--by the cordiality with which she joined forces with the vidame in reprobating my belated coming to the château. actually, i was near a fortnight behind the time named in my invitation: which had stated expressly that christmas began in provence on the feast of saint barbara, and that i was expected not later than that day--december th. "monsieur should have been here," said the housekeeper with decision, "when we planted the blessed saint barbara's grain. and now it is grown a full span. monsieur will not see christmas at all!" but my apologetic explanation that i never even had heard of saint barbara's grain only made my case the more deplorable. "mai!" exclaimed misè fougueiroun, in the tone of one who faces suddenly a real calamity. "can it be that there are no christians in monsieur's america? is it possible that down there they do not keep the christmas feast at all?" to cover my confusion, the vidame intervened with an explanation which made america appear in a light less heathenish. "the planting of saint barbara's grain," he said, "is a custom that i think is peculiar to the south of france. in almost every household in provence, and over in languedoc too, on saint barbara's day the women fill two, sometimes three, plates with wheat or lentils which they set afloat in water and then stand in the warm ashes of the fire-place or on a sunny window ledge to germinate. this is done in order to foretell the harvest of the coming year, for as saint barbara's grain grows well or ill so will the harvest of the coming year be good or bad; and also that there may be on the table when the great supper is served on christmas eve--that is to say, on the feast of the winter solstice--green growing grain in symbol or in earnest of the harvest of the new year that then begins. [illustration: planting saint barbara's grain] "the association of the trinitarian saint barbara with this custom," the vidame continued, "i fear is a bit of a makeshift. were three plates of grain the rule, something of a case would be made out in her favour. but the rule, so far as one can be found, is for only two. the custom must be of pagan origin, and therefore dates from far back of the time when saint barbara lived in her three-windowed tower at heliopolis. probably her name was tagged to it because of old these votive and prophetic grain-fields were sown on what in christian times became her dedicated day. but whatever light-mannered goddess may have been their patroness then, she is their patroness now; and from their sowing we date the beginning of our christmas feast." it was obvious that this explanation of the custom went much too far for misè fougueiroun. at the mention of its foundation in paganism she sniffed audibly, and upon the vidame's reference to the light-mannered goddess she drew her ample skirts primly about her and left the room. the vidame smiled. "i have scandalized misè, and to-morrow i shall have to listen to a lecture," he said; and in a moment continued: "it is not easy to make our provençaux realize how closely we are linked to older peoples and to older times. the very name for christmas in provençal, calèndo, tells how this christian festival lives on from the roman festival of the winter solstice, the january kalends; and the beliefs and customs which go with its celebration still more plainly mark its origin. our farmers believe, for instance, that these days which now are passing--the twelve days, called _coumtié_, immediately preceding christmas--are foretellers of the weather for the new twelve months to come; each in its turn, by rain or sunshine or by heat or cold, showing the character of the correspondingly numbered month of the new year. that the twelve prophetic days are those which immediately precede the solstice puts their endowment with prophetic power very far back into antiquity. our farmers, too, have the saying, 'when christmas falls on a friday you may sow in ashes'--meaning that the harvest of the ensuing year surely will be so bountiful that seed sown anywhere will grow; and in this saying there is a strong trace of venus worship, for friday--divèndre in provençal--is the day sacred to the goddess of fertility and bears her name. that belief comes to us from the time when the statue of aphrodite, dug up not long since at marseille, was worshipped here. our _pater de calèndo_--our curious christmas prayer for abundance during the coming year--clearly is a pagan supplication that in part has been diverted into christian ways; and in like manner comes to us from paganism the whole of our yule-log ceremonial." the vidame rose from the table. "our coffee will be served in the library," he said. he spoke with a perceptible hesitation, and there was anxiety in his tone as he added: "misè makes superb coffee; but sometimes, when i have offended her, it is not good at all." and he visibly fidgeted until the coffee arrived, and proved by its excellence that the housekeeper had been too noble to take revenge. iii in the early morning a lively clatter rising from the farm-yard came through my open window, along with the sunshine and the crisp freshness of the morning air. my apartment was in the southeast angle of the château, and my bedroom windows--overlooking the inner court--commanded the view along the range of the alpilles to the luberoun and mont-ventour, a pale great opal afloat in waves of clouds; while from the windows of my sitting-room i saw over mont-majour and arles far across the level camargue to the hazy horizon below which lay the mediterrænean. in the court-yard there was more than the ordinary morning commotion of farm life, and the buzz of talk going on at the well and the racing and shouting of a parcel of children all had in it a touch of eagerness and expectancy. while i still was drinking my coffee--in the excellence and delicate service of which i recognized the friendly hand of misè fougueiroun--there came a knock at my door; and, upon my answer, the vidame entered--looking so elate and wearing so blithe an air that he easily might have been mistaken for a frolicsome middle-aged sunbeam. "hurry! hurry!" he cried, while still shaking both my hands. "this is a day of days--we are going now to bring home the _cacho-fiò_, the yule-log! put on a pair of heavy shoes--the walking is rough on the mountain-side. but be quick, and come down the moment that you are ready. now i must be off. there is a world for me to do!" and the old gentleman bustled out of the room while he still was speaking, and in a few moments i heard him giving orders to some one with great animation on the terrace below. when i went down stairs, five minutes later, i found him standing in the hall by the open doorway: through which i saw, bright in the morning light across the level landscape, king rené's castle and the church of sainte-marthe in tarascon; and over beyond tarascon, high on the farther bank of the rhône, count raymond's castle of beaucaire; and in the far distance, faintly, the jagged peaks of the cévennes. but that was no time for looking at landscapes. "come along!" he cried. "they all are waiting for us at the mazet," and he hurried me down the steps to the terrace and so around to the rear of the château, talking away eagerly as we walked. "it is a most important matter," he said, "this bringing home of the _cacho-fiò_. the whole family must take part in it. the head of the family--the grandfather, the father, or the eldest son--must cut the tree; all the others must share in carrying home the log that is to make the christmas fire. and the tree must be a fruit-bearing tree. with us it usually is an almond or an olive. the olive especially is sacred. our people, getting their faith from their greek ancestors, believe that lightning never strikes it. but an apple-tree or a pear-tree will serve the purpose, and up in the alp region they burn the acorn-bearing oak. what we shall do to-day is an echo of druidical ceremonial--of the time when the druid priests cut the yule-oak and with their golden sickles reaped the sacred mistletoe; but old jan here, who is so stiff for preserving ancient customs, does not know that this custom, like many others that he stands for, is the survival of a rite." while the vidame was speaking we had turned from the terrace and were nearing the mazet--which diminutive of the provençal word _mas_, meaning farm-house, is applied to the farm establishment at vièlmur partly in friendliness and partly in indication of its dependence upon the great house, the château. at the arched entrance we found the farm family awaiting us: old jan, the steward of the estate, and his wife elizo; marius, their elder son, a man over forty, who is the active manager of affairs; their younger son, esperit, and their daughter nanoun; and the wife of marius, janetoun, to whose skirts a small child was clinging while three or four larger children scampered about her in a whir of excitement over the imminent event by which christmas really would be ushered in. when my presentation had been accomplished--a matter a little complicated in the case of old jan, who, in common with most of the old men hereabouts, speaks only provençal--we set off across the home vineyard, and thence went upward through the olive-orchards, to the high region on the mountain-side where grew the almond-tree which the vidame and his steward in counsel together had selected for the christmas sacrifice. nanoun, a strapping red-cheeked black-haired bounce of twenty, ran back into the mazet as we started; and joined us again, while we were crossing the vineyard, bringing with her a gentle-faced fair girl of her own age who came shyly. the vidame, calling her magali, had a cordial word for this new-comer; and nudged me to bid me mark how promptly esperit was by her side. "it is as good as settled," he whispered. "they have been lovers since they were children. magali is the daughter of elizo's foster-sister, who died when the child was born. then elizo brought her home to the mazet, and there she has lived her whole lifelong. esperit is waiting only until he shall be established in the world to speak the word. and the scamp is in a hurry. actually, he is pestering me to put him at the head of the lower farm!" the vidame gave this last piece of information in a tone of severity; but there was a twinkle in his kind old eyes as he spoke which led me to infer that master esperit's chances for the stewardship of the lower farm were anything but desperate, and i noticed that from time to time he cast very friendly glances toward these young lovers--as our little procession, mounting the successive terraces, went through the olive-orchards along the hill-side upward. presently we were grouped around the devoted almond-tree: a gnarled old personage, of a great age and girth, having that pathetic look of sorrowful dignity which i find always in superannuated trees--and now and then in humans of gentle natures who are conscious that their days of usefulness are gone. esperit, who was beside me, felt called upon to explain that the old tree was almost past bearing and so was worthless. his explanation seemed to me a bit of needless cruelty; and i was glad when magali, evidently moved by the same feeling, intervened softly with: "hush, the poor tree may understand!" and then added, aloud: "the old almond must know that it is a very great honour for any tree to be chosen for the christmas fire!" this little touch of pure poetry charmed me. but i was not surprised by it--for pure poetry, both in thought and in expression, is found often among the peasants of provence. even the children were quiet as old jan took his place beside the tree, and there was a touch of solemnity in his manner as he swung his heavy axe and gave the first strong blow--that sent a shiver through all the branches, as though the tree realized that death had overtaken it at last. when he had slashed a dozen times into the trunk, making a deep gash in the pale red wood beneath the brown bark, he handed the axe to marius; and stood watching silently with the rest of us while his son finished the work that he had begun. in a few minutes the tree tottered; and then fell with a growling death-cry, as its brittle old branches crashed upon the ground. whatever there had been of unconscious reverence in the silence that attended the felling was at an end. as the tree came down everybody shouted. instantly the children were swarming all over it. in a moment our little company burst into the flood of loud and lively talk that is inseparable in provence from gay occasions--and that is ill held in check even at funerals and in church. they are the merriest people in the world, the provençaux. iv marius completed his work by cutting through the trunk again, making a noble _cacho-fiò_ near five feet long--big enough to burn, according to the provençal rule, from christmas eve until the evening of new year's day. it is not expected, of course, that the log shall burn continuously. each night it is smothered in ashes and is not set a-blazing again until the following evening. but even when thus husbanded the log must be a big one to last the week out, and it is only in rich households that the rule can be observed. persons of modest means are satisfied if they can keep burning the sacred fire over christmas day; and as to the very poor, their _cacho-fiò_ is no more than a bit of a fruit-tree's branch--that barely, by cautious guarding, will burn until the midnight of christmas eve. yet this suffices: and it seems to me that there is something very tenderly touching about these thin yule-twigs which make, with all the loving ceremonial and rejoicing that might go with a whole tree-trunk, the poor man's christmas fire. in the country, the poorest man is sure of his _cacho-fiò_. the provençaux are a kindly race, and the well-to-do farmers are not forgetful of their poorer neighbors at christmas time. an almond-branch always may be had for the asking; and often, along with other friendly gifts toward the feast, without any asking at all. indeed, as i understood from the vidame's orders, the remainder of our old almond was to be cut up and distributed over the estate and about the neighborhood--and so the life went out from it finally in a christmas blaze that brightened many homes. in the cities, of course, the case is different; and, no doubt, on many a chill hearth no yule-fire burns. but even in the cities this kindly usage is not unknown. among the boat-builders and ship-wrights of the coast towns the custom long has obtained--being in force even in the government dock-yard at toulon--of permitting each workman to carry away a _cacho-fiò_ from the refuse oak timber; and an equivalent present frequently is given at christmas time to the labourers in other trades. while the vidame talked to me of these genial matters we were returning homeward, moving in a mildly triumphal procession that i felt to be a little tinctured with ceremonial practices come down from forgotten times. old jan and marius marching in front, esperit and the sturdy nanoun marching behind, carried between them the yule-log slung to shoulder-poles. immediately in their wake, as chief rejoicers, the vidame and i walked arm in arm. behind us came elizo and janetoun and magali--save that the last (manifesting a most needless solicitude for nanoun, who almost could have carried the log alone on her own strapping shoulders) managed to be frequently near esperit's side. the children, waving olive-branches, careered about us; now and then going through the form of helping to carry the _cacho-fiò_, and all the while shouting and singing and dancing--after the fashion of small dryads who also were partly imps of joy. so we came down through the sun-swept, terraced olive-orchards in a spirit of rejoicing that had its beginning very far back in the world's history and yet was freshly new that day. our procession took on grand proportions, i should explain, because our yule-log was of extraordinary size. but always the yule-log is brought home in triumph. if it is small, it is carried on the shoulder of the father or the eldest son; if it is a goodly size, those two carry it together; or a young husband and wife may bear it between them--as we actually saw a thick branch of our almond borne away that afternoon--while the children caracole around them or lend little helping hands. being come to the mazet, the log was stood on end in the court-yard in readiness to be taken thence to the fire-place on christmas eve. i fancied that the men handled it with a certain reverence; and the vidame assured me that such actually was the case. already, being dedicate to the christmas rite, it had become in a way sacred; and along with its sanctity, according to the popular belief, it had acquired a power which enabled it sharply to resent anything that smacked of sacrilegious affront. the belief was well rooted, he added by way of instance, that any one who sat on a yule-log would pay in his person for his temerity either with a dreadful stomach-ache that would not permit him to eat his christmas dinner, or would suffer a pest of boils. he confessed that he always had wished to test practically this superstition, but that his faith in it had been too strong to suffer him to make the trial! on the other hand, when treated reverently and burned with fitting rites, the yule-log brings upon all the household a blessing; and when it has been consumed even its ashes are potent for good. infused into a much-esteemed country-side medicine, the yule-log ashes add to its efficacy; sprinkled in the chicken-house and cow-stable, they ward off disease; and, being set in the linen-closet, they are an infallible protection against fire. probably this last property has its genesis in the belief that live-coals from the yule-log may be placed on the linen cloth spread for the great supper without setting it on fire--a belief which prudent housewives always are shy of putting to a practical test. the home-bringing ceremony being thus ended, we walked back to the château together--startling esperit and magali standing hand in hand, lover-like, in the archway; and when we were come to the terrace, and were seated snugly in a sunny corner, the vidame told me of a very stately yule-log gift that was made anciently in aix--and very likely elsewhere also--in feudal times. in aix it was the custom, when the counts of provence still lived and ruled there, for the magistrates of the city each year at christmas-tide to carry in solemn procession a huge _cacho-fiò_ to the palace of their sovereign; and there formally to present to him--or, in his absence, to the grand seneschal on his behalf--this their free-will and good-will offering. and when the ceremony of presentation was ended the city fathers were served with a collation at the count's charges, and were given the opportunity to pledge him loyally in his own good wine. knowing aix well, i was able to fill in the outlines of the vidame's bare statement of fact and also to give it a background. what a joy the procession must have been to see! the grey-bearded magistrates, in their velvet caps and robes, wearing their golden chains of office; the great log, swung to shoulder-poles and borne by leathern-jerkined henchmen; surely drummers and fifers, for such a ceremonial would have been impossibly incomplete in provence without a _tambourin_ and _galoubet_; doubtless a brace of ceremonial trumpeters; and a seemly guard in front and rear of steel-capped and steel-jacketed halbardiers. all these marching gallantly through the narrow, yet stately, aix streets; with comfortable burghers and well-rounded matrons in the doorways looking on, and pretty faces peeping from upper windows and going all a-blushing because of the over-bold glances of the men-at-arms! and then fancy the presentation in the great hall of the castle; and the gay feasting; and the merry wagging of grey-bearded chins as the magistrates cried all together, "to the health of the count!"--and tossed their wine! i protest that i grew quite melancholy as i thought how delightful it all was--and how utterly impossible it all is in these our own dull times! in truth i never can dwell upon such genially picturesque doings of the past without feeling that fate treated me very shabbily in not making me one of my own ancestors--and so setting me back in that hard-fighting, gay-going, and eminently light-opera age. v as christmas day drew near i observed that misè fougueiroun walked thoughtfully and seemed to be oppressed by heavy cares. when i met her on the stairs or about the passages her eyes had the far-off look of eyes prying into a portentous future; and when i spoke to her she recovered her wandering wits with a start. at first i feared that some grave misfortune had overtaken her; but i was reassured, upon applying myself to the vidame, by finding that her seeming melancholy distraction was due solely to the concentration of all her faculties upon the preparation of the christmas feast. her case, he added, was not singular. it was the same just then with all the housewives of the region: for the chief ceremonial event of christmas in provence is the _gros soupa_ that is eaten upon christmas eve, and of even greater culinary importance is the dinner that is eaten upon christmas day--wherefore does every woman brood and labour that her achievement of those meals may realize her high ideal! especially does the preparation of the great supper compel exhaustive thought. being of a vigil, the supper necessarily is "lean"; and custom has fixed unalterably the principal dishes of which it must be composed. thus limited straitly, the making of it becomes a struggle of genius against material conditions; and its successful accomplishment is comparable with the perfect presentment by a great poet of some well-worn elemental truth in a sonnet--of which the triumphant beauty comes less from the integral concept than from the exquisite felicity of expression that gives freshness to a hackneyed subject treated in accordance with severely constraining rules. it is no wonder, therefore, that the provençal housewives give the shortest of the december days to soulful creation in the kitchen, and the longest of the december nights to searching for inspired culinary guidance in dreams. they take such things very seriously, those good women: nor is their seriousness to be wondered at when we reflect that saint martha, of blessed memory, ended her days here in provence; and that this notable saint, after delivering the country from the ravaging tarasque, no doubt set up in her own house at tarascon an ideal standard of housekeeping that still is in force. certainly, the women of this region pattern themselves so closely upon their sainted model as to be even more cumbered with much serving than are womenkind elsewhere. because of the vidame's desolate bachelorhood, the kindly custom long ago was established that he and all his household every year should eat their great supper with the farm family at the mazet; an arrangement that did not work well until misè fougueiroun and elizo (after some years of spirited squabbling) came to the agreement that the former should be permitted to prepare the delicate sweets served for dessert at that repast. of these the most important is nougat, without which christmas would be as barren in provence as christmas would be in england without plum-pudding or in america without mince-pies. besides being sold in great quantities by town confectioners, nougat is made in most country homes. even the dwellers on the poor up-land farms--which, being above the reach of irrigation, yield uncertain harvests--have their own almond-trees and their own bees to make them honey, and so possess the raw materials of this necessary luxury. as for the other sweets, they may be anything that fancy and skill together can achieve; and it is in this ornate department of the great supper that genius has its largest chance. but it was the making of the christmas dinner that mainly occupied misè fougueiroun's mind--a feast pure and simple, governed by the one jolly law that it shall be the very best dinner of the whole year! what may be termed its by-laws are that the principal dish shall be a roast turkey, and that nougat and _poumpo_ shall figure at the dessert. why _poumpo_ is held in high esteem by the provençaux i am not prepared to say. it seemed to me a cake of only a humdrum quality; but even misè fougueiroun--to whom i am indebted for the appended recipe[ ]--spoke of it in a sincerely admiring and chop-smacking way. anciently the christmas bird was a goose--who was roasted and eaten ('twas a backhanded compliment!) in honour of her ancestral good deeds. for legend tells that when the kings, led by the star, arrived at the inn-stable in bethlehem it was the goose, alone of all the animals assembled there, who came forward politely to make them her compliments; yet failed to express clearly her good intentions because she had caught a cold, in the chill and windy weather, and her voice was unintelligibly creaky and harsh. the same voice ever since has remained to her, and as a farther commemoration of her hospitable and courteous conduct it became the custom to spit her piously on christmas day. i have come across the record of another christmas roast that now and then was served at the tables of the rich in provence in mediæval times. this was a huge cock, stuffed with chicken-livers and sausage-meat and garnished with twelve roasted partridges, thirty eggs, and thirty truffles: the whole making an alimentary allegory in which the cock represented the year, the partridges the months, the eggs the days, and the truffles the nights. but this never was a common dish, and not until the turkey appeared was the goose rescued from her annual martyrdom. the date of the coming of the turkey to provence is uncertain. popular tradition declares that the crusaders brought him home with them from the indies! certainly, he came a long while ago; probably very soon after europe received him from america as a noble and perpetual christmas present--and that occurred, i think, about thirty years after columbus, with an admirable gastronomic perception, discovered his primitive home. ordinarily the provençal christmas turkey is roasted with a stuffing of chestnuts, or of sausage-meat and black olives: but the high cooks of provence also roast him stuffed with truffles--making so superb a dish that brillat-savarin has singled it out for praise. misè fougueiroun's method, still more exquisite, was to make a stuffing of veal and fillet of pork (one-third of the former and two-thirds of the latter) minced and brayed in a mortar with a seasoning of salt and pepper and herbs, to which truffles cut in quarters were added with a lavish hand. for the basting she used a piece of salt-pork fat stuck on a long fork and set on fire. from this the flaming juice was dripped judiciously over the roast, with resulting little puffings of brown skin which permitted the savour of the salt to penetrate the flesh and so gave to it a delicious crispness and succulence. as to the flavour of a turkey thus cooked, no tongue can tell what any tongue blessed to taste of it may know! of the minor dishes served at the christmas dinner it is needless to speak. there is nothing ceremonial about them; nothing remarkable except their excellence and their profusion. save that they are daintier, they are much the same as christmas dishes in other lands. while the preparation of all these things was forward, a veritable culinary tornado raged in the lower regions of the château. both magali and the buxom nanoun were summoned to serve under the housekeeper's banners, and i was told that they esteemed as a high privilege their opportunity thus to penetrate into the very arcana of high culinary art. the vidame even said that nanoun's matrimonial chances--already good, for the baggage had set half the lads of the country-side at loggerheads about her--would be decidedly bettered by this discipline under misè fougueiroun: whose name long has been one to conjure with in all the kitchens between saint-remy and the rhône. for the provençaux are famous trencher-men, and the way that leads through their gullets is not the longest way to their hearts. vi but in spite of their eager natural love for all good things eatable, the provençaux also are poets; and, along with the cooking, another matter was in train that was wholly of a poetic cast. this was the making of the crèche: a representation with odd little figures and accessories of the personages and scene of the nativity--the whole at once so naïve and so tender as to be possible only among a people blessed with rare sweetness and rare simplicity of soul. the making of the crèche is especially the children's part of the festival--though the elders always take a most lively interest in it--and a couple of days before christmas, as we were returning from one of our walks, we fell in with all the farm children coming homeward from the mountains laden with crèche-making material: mosses, lichens, laurel, and holly; this last of smaller growth than our holly, but bearing fine red berries, which in provençal are called _li poumeto de sant-jan_--"the little apples of saint john." our expedition had been one of the many that the vidame took me upon in order that he might expound his geographical reasons for believing in his beloved roman camp; and this diversion enabled me to escape from marius--i fear with a somewhat unseemly precipitation--by pressing him for information in regard to the matter which the children had in hand. as to openly checking the vidame, when once he fairly is astride of his hobby, the case is hopeless. to cast a doubt upon even the least of his declarations touching the doings of the roman general is the signal for a blaze of arguments down all his battle front; and i really do not like even to speculate upon what might happen were i to meet one of his major propositions with a flat denial! but an attack in flank, i find--the sudden posing of a question upon some minor antiquarian theme--usually can be counted upon, as in this instance, to draw him outside the roman lines. yet that he left them with a pained reluctance was so evident that i could not but feel some twinges of remorse--until my interest in what he told me made me forget my heartlessness in shunting to a side track the subject on which he so loves to talk. in a way, the crèche takes in provence the place of the christmas-tree, of which northern institution nothing is known here; but it is closer to the heart of christmas than the tree, being touched with a little of the tender beauty of the event which it represents in so quaint a guise. its invention is ascribed to saint francis of assisi. the chronicle of his order tells that this seraphic man, having first obtained the permission of the holy see, represented the principal scenes of the nativity in a stable; and that in the stable so transformed he celebrated mass and preached to the people. all this is wholly in keeping with the character of saint francis; and, certainly, the crèche had its origin in italy in his period, and in the same conditions which formed his graciously fanciful soul. its introduction into provence is said to have been in the time of john xxii.--the second of the avignon popes, who came to the pontificate in the year --and by the fathers of the oratory of marseille: from which centre it rapidly spread abroad through the land until it became a necessary feature of the christmas festival both in churches and in homes. obviously, the crèche is an offshoot from the miracle plays and mysteries which had their beginning a full two centuries earlier. these also survive vigorously in provence in the "pastouralo": an acted representation of the nativity that is given each year during the christmas season by amateurs or professionals in every city and town, and in almost every village. indeed, the pastouralo is so large a subject, and so curious and so interesting, that i venture here only to allude to it. nor has it, properly--although so intensely a part of the provençal christmas--a place in this paper, which especially deals with the christmas of the home. in the farm-houses, and in the dwellings of the middle-class, the crèche is placed always in the living-room, and so becomes an intimate part of the family life. on a table set in a corner is represented a rocky hill-side--dusted with flour to represent snow--rising in terraces tufted with moss and grass and little trees and broken by foot-paths and a winding road. this structure is very like a provençal hill-side, but it is supposed to represent the rocky region around bethlehem. at its base, on the left, embowered in laurel or in holly, is a wooden or pasteboard representation of the inn; and beside the inn is the stable: an open shed in which are grouped little figures representing the several personages of the nativity. in the centre is the christ-child, either in a cradle or lying on a truss of straw; seated beside him is the virgin; saint joseph stands near, holding in his hand the mystic lily; with their heads bent down over the child are the ox and the ass--for those good animals helped with their breath through that cold night to keep him warm. in the foreground are the two _ravi_--a man and a woman in awed ecstasy, with upraised arms--and the adoring shepherds. to these are added on epiphany the figures of the magi--the kings, as they are called always in french and in provençal--with their train of attendants, and the camels on which they have brought their gifts. angels (pendent from the farm-house ceiling) float in the air above the stable. higher is the star, from which a ray (a golden thread) descends to the christ-child's hand. over all, in a glory of clouds, hangs the figure of jehovah attended by a white dove. these are the essentials of the crèche; and in the beginning, no doubt, these made the whole of it. but for nearly six centuries the delicate imagination of the provençal poets and the cruder, but still poetic, fancy of the provençal people have been enlarging upon the simple original: with the result that twoscore or more figures often are found in the crèche of to-day. either drawing from the quaintly beautiful mediæval legends of the birth and childhood of jesus, or directly from their own quaintly simple souls, the poets from early times have been making christmas songs--noëls, or nouvé as they are called in provençal--in which new subordinate characters have been created in a spirit of frank realism, and these have materialized in new figures surrounding the crèche. at the same time the fancy of the people, working with a still more naïve directness along the lines of associated ideas, has been making the most curiously incongruous and anachronistic additions to the group. to the first order belong such creations as the blind man, led by a child, coming to be healed of his blindness by the infant's touch; or that of the young mother hurrying to offer her breast to the new-born (in accordance with the beautiful custom still in force in provence) that its own mother may rest a little before she begins to suckle it; or that of the other mother bringing the cradle of which her own baby has been dispossessed, because of her compassion for the poor woman at the inn whose child is lying on a truss of straw. but the popular additions, begotten of association of ideas, are far more numerous and also are far more curious. the hill-top, close under the floating figure of jehovah, has been crowned with a wind-mill--because wind-mills abounded anciently on the hill-tops of provence. to the mill, naturally, has been added a miller--who is riding down the road on an ass, with a sack of flour across his saddle-bow that he is carrying as a gift to the holy family. the adoring shepherds have been given flocks of sheep, and on the hill-side more shepherds and more sheep have been put for company. the sheep, in association with the ox and the ass, have brought in their train a whole troop of domestic animals--including geese and turkeys and chickens and a cock on the roof of the stable; and in the train of the camels has come the extraordinary addition of lions, bears, leopards, elephants, ostriches, and even crocodiles! the provençaux being from of old mighty hunters (the tradition has found its classic embodiment in tartarin), and hill-sides being appropriate to hunting, a figure of a fowler with a gun at his shoulder has been introduced; and as it is well, even in the case of a provençal sportsman, to point a gun at a definite object, the fowler usually is so placed as to aim at the cock on the stable roof. he is a modern, yet not very recent addition, the fowler, as is shown by the fact that he carries a flint-lock fowling-piece. drumming and fifing being absolute essentials to every sort of provençal festivity, a conspicuous figure always is found playing on a _tambourin_ and _galoubet_. itinerant knife-grinders are an old institution here, and in some obscure way--possibly because of their thievish propensities--are associated intimately with the devil; and so there is either a knife-grinder simple, or a devil with a knife-grinder's wheel. of old it was the custom for the women to carry distaffs and to spin out thread as they went to and from the fields or along the roads (just as the women nowadays knit as they walk), and therefore a spinning-woman always is of the company. because child-stealing was not uncommon here formerly, and because gypsies still are plentiful, there are three gypsies lurking about the inn all ready to steal the christ-child away. as the inn-keeper naturally would come out to investigate the cause of the commotion in his stable-yard, he is found, with the others, lantern in hand. and, finally, there is a group of women bearing as gifts to the christ-child the essentials of the christmas feast: codfish, chickens, carde, ropes of garlic, eggs, and the great christmas cakes, _poumpo_ and _fougasso_. many other figures may be, and often are, added to the group--of which one of the most delightful is the turk who makes a solacing present of his pipe to saint joseph; but all of these which i have named have come to be now quite as necessary to a properly made crèche as are the few which are taken direct from the bible narrative: and the congregation surely is one of the quaintest that ever poetry and simplicity together devised! in provençal the diminutive of saint is _santoun_; and it is as santouns that all the personages of the crèche--including the whole of the purely human and animal contingent, and even the knife-grinding devil--are known. they are of various sizes--the largest, used in churches, being from two to three feet high--and in quality of all degrees: ranging downward from real magnificence (such as may be seen in the seventeenth-century neapolitan crèche in room v. of the musée de cluny) to the rough little clay figures two or three inches high in common household use throughout provence. these last, sold by thousands at christmas time, are as crude as they well can be: pressed in rude moulds, dried (not baked), and painted with glaring colours, with a little gilding added in the case of jehovah and the angels and the kings. for two centuries or more the making of clay santouns has been a notable industry in marseille. it is largely a hereditary trade carried on by certain families inhabiting that ancient part of the city, the quarter of saint-jean, which lies to the south of the vieux port. the figures sell for the merest trifle, the cheapest for one or two sous, yet the santoun fair--held annually in december in booths set up in the cour-du-chapitre and in the allée-des-capucins--is of a real commercial importance; and is also--what with the oddly whimsical nature of its merchandise, and the vast enjoyment of the children under parental or grand-parental convoy who are its patrons--the very gayest sight in that city of which gayety is the dominant characteristic the whole year round. vii not until "the day of the kings," the feast of the epiphany, is the crèche completed. then are added to the group the figures of the three kings--the magi, as we call them in english: along with their gallant train of servitors, and the hump-backed camels on which they have ridden westward to bethlehem guided by the star. the provençal children believe that they come at sunset, in pomp and splendour, riding in from the outer country, and on through the street of the village, and in through the church door, to do homage before the manger in the transept where the christ-child lies. and the children believe that it may be seen, this noble procession, if only they may have the good fortune to hit upon the road along which the royal progress to their village is to be made. but mistral has told about all this far better than i can tell about it, and i shall quote here, by his permission, a page or two from the "memoirs" which he is writing, slowly and lovingly, in the between-whiles of the making of his songs: "to-morrow's the festival of the kings. this evening they arrive. if you want to see them, little ones, go quickly to meet them--and take presents for them, and for their pages, and for the poor camels who have come so far!" that was what, in my time, the mothers used to say on the eve of epiphany--and, _zòu!_ all the children of the village would be off together to meet "les rois mages," who were coming with their pages and their camels and the whole of their glittering royal suite to adore the christ-child in our church in maillane! all of us together, little chaps with curly hair, pretty little girls, our sabots clacking, off we would go along the arles road, our hearts thrilling with joy, our eyes full of visions. in our hands we would carry, as we had been bidden, our presents: fougasso for the kings, figs for the pages, sweet hay for the tired camels who had come so far. on we would go through the cold of dying day, the sun, over beyond the rhône, dipping toward the cévennes; leafless trees, red in low sun-rays; black lines of cypress; in the fields an old woman with a fagot on her head; beside the road an old man scratching under the hedge for snails. "where are you going, little ones?" "we are going to meet the kings!" and on we would run proudly along the white road, while the shrewd north wind blew sharp behind us, until our old church tower would drop away and be hidden behind the trees. we could see far, far down the wide straight road, but it would be bare! in the cold of the winter evening all would be dumb. then we would meet a shepherd, wrapped in his long brown cloak and leaning on his staff, a silhouette against the western sky. "where are you going, little ones?" "we are going to meet the kings! can you tell us if they are far off?" "ah, the kings. certainly. they are over there behind the cypresses. they are coming. you will see them soon." on we would run to meet the kings so near, with our fougasso and our figs and our hay for the hungry camels. the day would be waning rapidly, the sun dropping down into a great cloud-bank above the mountains, the wind nipping us more shrewdly as it grew still more chill. our hearts also would be chilling. even the bravest of us would be doubting a little this adventure upon which we were bound. [illustration: the passing of the kings] then, of a sudden, a flood of radiant glory would be about us, and from the dark cloud above the mountains would burst forth a splendour of glowing crimson and of royal purple and of glittering gold! "les rois mages! les rois mages!" we would cry. "they are coming! they are here at last!" but it would be only the last rich dazzle of the sunset. presently it would vanish. the owls would be hooting. the chill night would be settling down upon us, out there in the bleak country, sorrowful, alone. fear would take hold of us. to keep up our courage a little, we would nibble at the figs which we had hoped to give to the pages, at the fougasso which we had hoped to present to the kings. as for the hay for the hungry camels, we would throw it away. shivering in the wintry dusk, we would return sadly to our homes. and when we reached our homes again our mothers would ask: "well, did you see them, the kings?" "no; they passed by on the other side of the rhône, behind the mountains." "but what road did you take?" "the road to arles." "ah, my poor child! the kings don't come that way. they come from the east. you should have gone out to meet them on the road to saint-remy. and what a sight you have missed! oh, how beautiful it was when they came marching into maillane--the drums, the trumpets, the pages, the camels! _mon dieu_, what a commotion! what a sight it was! and now they are in the church, making their homage before the manger in which the little christ-child lies. but never mind; after supper you shall see them all." then we would sup quickly, and so be off to the church, crowded with all maillane. barely would we be entered there when the organ would begin, at first softly and then bursting forth formidably, all our people singing with it, with the superb noël: in the early morning i met a train of three great kings who were going on a journey! high up before the altar, directly above the manger in which the christ-child was lying, would be the glittering _bello estello_; and making their homage before the manger would be the kings whom it had guided thither from the east: old white-bearded king melchior with his gift of incense; gallant young king gaspard with his gift of treasure; black king balthazar the moor with his gift of myrrh. how reverently we would gaze on them, and how we would admire the brave pages who carried the trains of their long mantles, and the hump-backed camels whose heads towered high above saint mary and saint joseph and the ox and the ass. yes, there they were at last--the kings! many and many a time in the after years have i gone a-walking on the arles road at nightfall on the eve of the kings. it is the same--but not the same. the sun, over beyond the rhône, is dipping toward the cévennes; the leafless trees are red in the low sun-rays; across the fields stretch the black lines of cypress; even the old man, as long ago, is scratching in the hedge by the roadside for snails. and when darkness comes quickly, with the sun's setting, the owls hoot as of old. but in the radiant glory of the sunset i no longer see the dazzle and the splendour of the kings! "which way went they, the kings?" "behind the mountains!" viii in the morning of the day preceding christmas a lurking, yet ill-repressed, excitement pervaded the château and all its dependencies. in the case of the vidame and misè fougueiroun the excitement did not even lurk: it blazed forth so openly that they were as a brace of comets--bustling violently through our universe and dragging into their erratic wakes, away from normal orbits, the whole planetary system of the household and all the haply intrusive stars. with my morning coffee came the explanation of a quite impossible smell of frying dough-nuts which had puzzled me on the preceding day: a magnificent golden-brown _fougasso_, so perfect of its kind that any provençal of that region--though he had come upon it in the sandy wastes of sahara--would have known that its creator was misè fougueiroun. to compare the _fougasso_ with our homely dough-nut does it injustice. it is a large flat open-work cake--a grating wrought in dough--an inch or so in thickness, either plain or sweetened or salted, fried delicately in the best olive-oil of aix or maussane. it is made throughout the winter, but its making at christmas time is of obligation; and the custom obtains among the women--though less now than of old--of sending a _fougasso_ as a christmas gift to each of their intimates. as this custom had in it something more than a touch of vainglorious emulation, i well can understand why it has fallen into desuetude in the vicinity of vièlmur--where misè fougueiroun's inspired kitchening throws all other cook-work hopelessly into the shade. as i ate the "horns" (as its fragments are called) of my _fougasso_ that morning, dipping them in my coffee according to the prescribed custom, i was satisfied that it deserved its high place in the popular esteem. when i joined the vidame below stairs i found him under such stress of christmas excitement that he actually forgot his usual morning suggestion--made always with an off-hand freshness, as though the matter were entirely new--that we should take a turn along the lines of the roman camp. he was fidgeting back and forth between the hall (our usual place of morning meeting) and the kitchen: torn by his conflicting desires to attend upon me, his guest, and to take his accustomed part in the friendly ceremony that was going on below. presently he compromised the divergencies of the situation, though with some hesitation, by taking me down with him into misè fougueiroun's domain--where he became frankly cheerful when he found that i was well received. although the morning still was young, work on the estate had been ended for the day, and about the door of the kitchen more than a score of labourers were gathered: all with such gay looks as to show that something of a more than ordinarily joyous nature was in train. among them i recognized the young fellow whom we had met with his wife carrying away the yule-log; and found that all of them were workmen upon the estate who--either being married or having homes within walking distance--were to be furloughed for the day. this was according to the provençal custom that christmas must be spent by one's own fire-side; and it also was according to provençal custom that they were not suffered to go away with empty hands. misè fougueiroun--a plump embodiment of benevolence--stood beside a table on which was a great heap of her own _fougasso_, and big baskets filled with dried figs and almonds and celery, and a genial battalion of bottles standing guard over all. one by one the vassals were called up--there was a strong flavour of feudalism in it all--and to each, while the vidame wished him a "_bòni fèsto!_" the housekeeper gave his christmas portion: a _fougasso_, a double-handful each of figs and almonds, a stalk of celery, and a bottle of _vin cue_[ ]--the cordial that is used for the libation of the yule-log and for the solemn yule-cup; and each, as he received his portion, made his little speech of friendly thanks--in several cases most gracefully turned--and then was off in a hurry for his home. most of them were dwellers in the immediate neighbourhood; but four or five had before them walks of more than twenty miles, with the same distance to cover in returning the next day. but great must be the difficulty or the distance that will keep a provençal from his own people and his own hearth-stone at christmas-tide! in illustration of this home-seeking trait, i have from my friend mistral the story that his own grandfather used to tell regularly every year when all the family was gathered about the yule-fire on christmas eve: it was back in the revolutionary times, and mistral the grandfather--only he was not a grandfather then, but a mettlesome young soldier of two-and-twenty--was serving with the army of the pyrénées, down on the borders of spain. december was well on, but the season was open--so open that he found one day a tree still bearing oranges. he filled a basket with the fruit and carried it to the captain of his company. it was a gift for a king, down there in those hard times, and the captain's eyes sparkled. "ask what thou wilt, _mon brave_," he said, "and if i can give it to thee it shall be thine." quick as a flash the young fellow answered: "before a cannon-ball cuts me in two, commandant, i should like to go to provence and help once more to lay the yule-log in my own home. let me do that!" now that was a serious matter. but the captain had given his word, and the word of a soldier of the republic was better than the oath of a king. therefore he sat down at his camp-table and wrote: army of the eastern pyrénées, december , . we, perrin, captain of military transport, give leave to the citizen françois mistral, a brave republican soldier, twenty-two years old, five feet six inches high, chestnut hair and eyebrows, ordinary nose, mouth the same, round chin, medium forehead, oval face, to go back into his province, to go all over the republic, and, if he wants to, to go to the devil! "with an order like that in his pocket," said mistral, "you can fancy how my grandfather put the leagues behind him; and how joyfully he reached maillane on the lovely christmas eve, and how there was danger of rib-cracking from the hugging that went on. but the next day it was another matter. news of his coming had flown about the town, and the mayor sent for him. "'in the name of the law, citizen,' the mayor demanded, 'why hast thou left the army?' "now my grandfather was a bit of a wag, and so--with never a word about his famous pass--he answered: 'well, you see i took a fancy to come and spend my christmas here in maillane.' "at that the mayor was in a towering passion. 'very good, citizen,' he cried. 'other people also may take fancies--and mine is that thou shalt explain this fancy of thine before the military tribunal at tarascon. off with him there!' "and then away went my grandfather between a brace of gendarmes, who brought him in no time before the district judge: a savage old fellow in a red cap, with a beard up to his eyes, who glared at him as he asked: 'citizen, how is it that thou hast deserted thy flag?' "now my grandfather, who was a sensible man, knew that a joke might be carried too far; therefore he whipped out his pass and presented it, and so in a moment set everything right. "'good, very good, citizen!' said old redcap. 'this is as it should be. thy captain says that thou art a brave soldier of the republic, and that is the best that the best of us can be. with a pass like that in thy pocket thou canst snap thy fingers at all the mayors in provence; and the devil himself had best be careful--shouldst thou go down that way, as thy pass permits thee--how he trifles with a brave soldier of france!' "but my grandfather did not try the devil's temper," mistral concluded. "he was satisfied to stay in his own dear home until the day of the kings was over, and then he went back to his command." ix the day dragged a little when we had finished in the kitchen with the giving of christmas portions and the last of the farm-hands, calling back "_bòni fèsto!_," had gone away. for the womenkind, of course, there was a world to do; and misè fougueiroun whisked us out of her dominions with a pretty plain statement that our company was less desirable than our room. but for the men there was only idle waiting until night should come. as for the vidame--who is a fiery fume of a little old gentleman, never happy unless in some way busily employed--this period of stagnation was so galling that in sheer pity i mounted him upon his hobby and set him to galloping away. 'twas an easy matter, and the stimulant that i administered was rather dangerously strong: for i brought up the blackest beast in the whole herd of his abominations by asking him if there were not some colour of reason in the belief that marius lay not at vièlmur but at glanum--now saint-remy-de-provence--behind the lines of roman wall which exist there to this day. so far as relieving the strain of the situation was concerned, my expedient was a complete success; but the storm that i raised was like to have given the vidame such an attack of bilious indigestion begotten of anger as would have spoiled the great supper for him; and as for myself, i was overwhelmed for some hours by his avalanche of words. but the long walk that we took in the afternoon, that he might give me convincing proof of the soundness of his archæological theories, fortunately set matters right again; and when we returned in the late day to the château my old friend had recovered his normal serenity of soul. as we passed the mazet in our afternoon walk, we stopped to greet the new arrivals there, come to make the family gathering complete: two more married children, with a flock of their own little ones, and elizo's father and mother--a bowed little rosy-cheeked old woman and a bowed lean old man, both well above eighty years. there was a lively passage of friendly greetings between them all and the vidame; and it was quite delightful to see how the bowed little old woman kindled and bridled when the vidame gallantly protested that she grew younger and handsomer every year. a tall ladder stood against the mazet, and the children were engaged in hanging tiny wheat-sheaves along the eaves: the christmas portion of the birds. in old times, the vidame explained, it was the general custom for children to make this pretty offering--that the birds of heaven, finding themselves so served, might descend in clouds to the feast prepared for them by christian bounty. but nowadays, he added, sighing, the custom rarely was observed. other charitable usages of christmas had vanished, he continued, because the need for them had passed away with the coming of better times. save in the large cities, there are very few really poor people in provence now. it is a rich land, and it gives to its hard-working inhabitants a good living; with only a pinch now and then when a cold winter or a dry summer or a wet harvest puts things out of gear. but of old the conditions were sadly different and there was need for all that charity could give. in those times, when in comfortable homes the christmas feast was set, there would be heard outside a plaintive voice calling: "give something from your yule-log to the sorrowful poor!" and then the children quickly, would carry out to the calling poor one good portions of food. pious families, also, were wont to ask some poor friend or acquaintance, or even a poor passing stranger, to eat the great supper with them; and of the fragments a part would be sent to the poor brethren in the hostel de dieu: which offerings were called always "the share of the good god." in many towns and villages the offerings of christian bounty were collected in a curious way. a gigantic figure of wicker-work--called melchior, after one of the three kings of the epiphany--clothed in a grotesque fashion and with a huge pannier strapped to his back, was mounted upon an ass and so was taken from door to door to gather for the poor whatever the generous would give of food. into the big basket charitable hands threw figs, almonds, bread, cheese, olives, sausages: and when the brave melchior had finished his round his basket was emptied upon a table at the church door, and then all the poor people of the parish were free to come there and receive portions of those good things--while the church bells rang, and while there blazed beside the table a torch in representation of the star which guided melchior and his fellow kings to bethlehem. a reminiscence of this general charity still survives in the little town of solliès, tucked away in the mountains not far from toulon. there, at christmas time, thirteen poor people known as "the apostles" (though there is one to spare) receive at the town-house a dole of two pounds of meat, two loaves of bread, some figs and almonds, and a few sous. and throughout provence the custom still is general that each well-to-do family shall send a portion of its christmas loaf--the _pan calendau_--to some friend or neighbour to whom fortune has been less kind. but, happily, this gift nowadays often is a mere friendly compliment, like the gift of _fougasso_; for the times are past when weak-kneed and spasmodic charity dealt with real poverty in provence. x 'twas with such kindly reminiscences of old-time benevolence, rather than with explosive archæological matters, that i kept the vidame from falling again a-fuming--while we waited through the dusk for the coming of seven o'clock, at which hour the festivities at the mazet were to begin. our waiting place was the candle-lit salon: a stately old apartment floored formally with squares of black and white marble, furnished in the formal style of the eighteenth century, and hung around with formal family portraits and curious old prints in which rather lax classical subjects were treated with a formal severity. the library being our usual habitat, i inferred that our change of quarters was in honour of the day. it was much to my liking; for in that antiquely ordered room--and the presence of the vidame helped the illusion--i felt always as though i had stepped backward into the thick of eighteenth century romance. but for the vidame, although he also loves its old time flavour, the salon had no charms just then; and when the glass-covered clock on the mantle chimed from among its gilded cupids the three-quarters he arose with a brisk alacrity and said that it was time for us to be off. our march--out through the rear door of the château and across the court-yard to the mazet--was processional. all the household went with us. the vidame gallantly gave his arm to misè fougueiroun; i followed with her first officer--a sauce-box named mouneto, so plumply provoking and charming in her arlesian dress that i will not say what did or did not happen in the darkness as we passed the well! a little in our rear followed the house-servants, even to the least; and in the mazet already were gathered, with the family, the few work-people of the estate who had not gone to their own homes. for the great supper is a patriarchal feast, to which in christian fellowship come the master and the master's family and all of their servitors and dependants on equal terms. a broad stream of light came out through the open doorway of the farm-house, and with it a great clatter and buzz of talk--that increased tenfold as we entered, and a cry of "_bòni fèsto!_" came from the whole company at once. as for the vidame, he so radiated cordiality that he seemed to be the veritable spirit of christmas (incarnate at the age of sixty, and at that period of the nineteenth century when stocks and frilled shirts were worn), and his joyful old legs were near to dancing as he went among the company with warm-hearted greetings and outstretched hands. all told, we numbered above forty; but the great living-room of the mazet, notwithstanding the space taken by the supper-table ranged down the middle of it, easily could have held another score. save in its size, and in the completeness of its appointments, this room was thoroughly typical of the main apartment found in farm-houses throughout provence. the floor was laid with stone slabs and the ceiling was supported upon very large smoke-browned beams--from which hung hams, and strings of sausages, and ropes of garlic, and a half-dozen bladders filled with lard. more than a third of the rear wall was taken up by the huge fire-place, that measured ten feet across and seven feet from the stone mantle-shelf to the floor. in its centre, with room on each side in the chimney-corners for a chair (a space often occupied by large lockers for flour and salt), was the fire-bed--crossed by a pair of tall andirons, which flared out at the top into little iron baskets (often used, with a filling of live coals, as plate-warmers) and which were furnished with hooks at different heights to support the roasting-spits. hanging from the mantle-shelf was a short curtain to hold the smoke in check; and on the shelf were various utilitarian ornaments: a row of six covered jars, of old faience, ranging in holding capacity from a gill to three pints, each lettered with the name of its contents--saffron, pepper, tea, salt, sugar, flour; and with these some burnished copper vessels, and a coffee-pot, and a half-dozen of the tall brass or pewter lamps for burning olive-oil--which long ago superseded the primitive _calèu_, dating from roman or from still earlier times, and which now themselves practically have been superseded by lamps burning petroleum. to the right of the fire-place was the stone sink, with shelves above it on which was a brilliant array of polished copper and tin pots and pans. to the left was the covered bread-trough, above which hung the large salt and flour boxes and the grated bread-closet--this last looking like a child's crib gone wrong--all of dark wood ornamented with carving and with locks and hinges of polished iron. on the opposite side of the room, matching these pieces in colour and carving and polished iron-work, were a tall buffet and a tall clock--the clock of so insistent a temperament that it struck in duplicate, at an interval of a minute, the number of each hour. a small table stood in a corner, and in ordinary times the big dining-table was ranged along one of the walls, with benches on each side of it supplemented by rush-bottomed chairs. near the bread-trough was hung a long-armed steel-balance with a brass dish suspended by brass chains, all brilliant from scouring with soap and sand; an ancient fowling-piece rested in wooden crutches driven between the stones on one side of the clock, and on the other side was hung a glittering copper warming-pan--a necessary comfort here of cold nights in fireless rooms. by way of ornament, three or four violently-colored lithographs were tacked against the walls, together with a severely formal array--a pyramidal trophy--of family photographs. excepting the warming-pan and the two arm-chairs ordinarily in the chimney-corners, there was no provision in the room for bodily ease or comfort: a lack unperceived by its occupants, but which an american house-wife--missing her many small luxuries and conveniences--would have found sharply marked. xi the crèche, around which the children were gathered in a swarm, was built up in one corner; and our coming was the signal for the first of the ceremonies, the lighting of the crèche candles, to begin. in this all the children had a part--making rather a scramble of it, for there was rivalry as to which of them should light the most--and in a moment a constellation of little flames covered the bethlehem hill-side and brought into bright prominence the holy family and its strange attendant host of quite impossible people and beasts and birds. the laying of the yule-log followed; a ceremony so grave that it has all the dignity of, and really is, a religious rite. the buzz of talk died away into silence as elizo's father, the oldest man, took by the hand and led out into the court-yard where the log was lying his great-grandson, the little tounin, the youngest child: it being the rule that the nominal bearers of the _cacho-fiò_ to the hearth shall be the oldest and the youngest of the family--the one personifying the year that is dying, the other the year new-born. sometimes, and this is the prettiest rendering of the custom, the two are an old, old man and a baby carried in its mother's arms--while between them the real bearers of the burden walk. in our case the log actually was carried by marius and esperit; but the tottering old man clasped its forward end with his thin feeble hands, and its hinder end was clasped by the plump feeble hands of the tottering child. thus, the four together, they brought it in through the doorway and carried it thrice around the room, circling the supper-table and the lighted candles; and then, reverently, it was laid before the fire-place--that still sometimes is called in provençal the _lar_. [illustration: elizo's old father] there was a pause, while the old man filled out a cup of _vin cue_; and a solemn hush fell upon the company, and all heads were bowed, as he poured three libations upon the log, saying with the last: "in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy ghost!"--and then cried with all the vigor that he could infuse into his thin and quavering old voice: cacho-fiò, bouto-fiò! alègre! alègre! diéu nous alègre! calèndo vèn! tout bèn vèn! diéu nous fague la gràci de vèire l'an que vèn, e se noun sian pas mai, que noun fuguen pas mens! yule-log, catch fire! joy! joy! god gives us joy! christmas comes! all good comes! may god give us grace to see the coming year, and if we are not more, may we not be less! as he ended his invocation he crossed himself, as did all the rest; and a great glad shout was raised of "alègre! alègre!" as marius and esperit--first casting some fagots of vine-branches on the bed of glowing coals--placed the yule-log upon the fire. instantly the vines blazed up, flooding the room with brightness; and as the yule-log glowed and reddened everybody cried cacho-fiò, bouto-fiò! alègre! alègre! again and again--as though the whole of them together of a sudden had gone merry-mad! in the midst of this triumphant rejoicing the bowl from which the libation had been poured was filled afresh with _vin cue_ and was passed from hand to hand and lip to lip--beginning with the little tounin, and so upward in order of seniority until it came last of all to the old man--and from it each drank to the new fire of the new year. anciently, this ceremony of the yule-log lighting was universal in provence, and it is almost universal still; sometimes with a less elaborate ritual than i have described, but yet substantially the same: always with the libation, always with an invocation, always with the rejoicing toast to the new fire. but in modern times--within the last century or so--another custom in part has supplanted it in marseille and aix and in some few other towns. this is the lighting of candles at midnight in front of the crèche; a ceremony, it will be observed, in which new fire still bears the most important part. one of my aix friends, the poet joachim gasquet, has described to me the christmas eve customs which were observed in his own home: the gasquet bakery, in the rue de la cepède, that has been handed down from father to son through so many hundreds of years that even its owners cannot tell certainly whether it was in the fourteenth or the fifteenth century that their family legend of good baking had its rise. as monsieur auguste, the _contre-maître_ of the bakery, opened the great stone door of the oven that i might peer into its hot depths, an historical cross-reference came into my mind that made me realize its high antiquity. allowing for difference of longitude, the _contre-maître_ who was monsieur auguste's remote predecessor was lifting the morning's baking out of that oven at the very moment when columbus saw through the darkness westward the lights of a new world! in the gasquet family it was the custom to eat the great supper in the oven room: because that was the heart, the sanctuary, of the house; the place consecrated by the toil which gave the family its livelihood. on the supper-table there was always a wax figure of the infant christ, and this was carried just before midnight to the living-room, off from the shop, in one corner of which the crèche was set up. it was the little joachim whose right it was, because he was the youngest, the purest, to carry the figure. a formal procession was made. he walked at its head, a little chap with long curling golden hair, between his two grandfathers; the rest followed in the order of their age and rank: his two grandmothers, his father and mother, monsieur auguste (a dashing blade of a young baker then) with the maid-servant, and the apprentices last of all. a single candle was carried by one of his grandfathers into the dark room--the illumination of which, that night, could come only from the new fire kindled before the crèche. precisely at midnight--at the moment when all the clocks of aix striking together let loose the christmas chimes--the child laid the holy figure in the manger, and then the candles instantly were set ablaze. sometimes there would be a thrilling pause of half a minute or more while they waited for the bells: the child, with the image in his hands, standing before the crèche in the little circle of light; the others grouped behind him, and for the most part lost in dark shadow cast by the single candle held low down; those nearest to the crèche holding matches ready to strike so that all the candles might be lighted at once when the moment came. and then all the bells together would send their voices out over the city heavenward; and his mother would say softly, "now, my little son!"; and the room would flash into brightness suddenly--as though a glory radiated from the christ-child lying there in the manger between the ox and the ass. every evening throughout the christmas season the candles were relighted before this christmas shrine, and there the members of the family said in common their evening prayer; and when the time came for taking down the crèche those parts of it which were not preserved for the ensuing year--the refuse scraps of wood and pasteboard and moss and laurel--were burned (this is the orthodox general custom) with something of the flavour of a rite; not cast into the household fire nor the bakery oven, but saved from falling into base places by being consumed in a pure fire of its own. xii while our own more orthodox yule-log ceremonial was in progress, the good elizo and janetoun--upon whom the responsibility of the supper rested--evidently were a prey to anxious thoughts. they whispered together and cast uneasy glances toward the chimney, into the broad corners of which the various cooking vessels had been moved to make way for the _cacho-fiò_; and the moment that the cup of benediction had passed their lips they precipitated themselves upon the fire-place and replaced the pots and pans for a final heating upon the coals. the long table had been set before our arrival and was in perfect readiness--covered with a fine white linen cloth, sacredly reserved for use at high festivals, that fairly sparkled in the blaze of light cast by the overhanging petroleum lamp. yet the two ceremonial candles, one at each end of the table, also were lighted; and were watched anxiously as the supper went on: for should the wick of one of the christmas candles fall before the supper is ended, the person toward whom it points in falling will pass from earth before the christmas feast is set again. but misè fougueiroun, to guard against this ominous catastrophe, had played a trick on fate by providing wax candles with wicks so fine that they wasted away imperceptibly in their own flame. beside those fateless candles were the harvest harbingers, the plates on which was growing saint barbara's grain--so vigorous and so freshly green that old jan rubbed his hands together comfortably as he said to the vidame: "ah, we need have no fears for the harvest that is coming in this blessed year!" in the centre of the table, its browned crust slashed with a cross, was the great loaf of christmas bread, _pan calendau_; on which was a bunch of holly tied with the white pith of rushes--the "marrow" of the rush, that is held to be an emblem of strength. old jan, the master of the house, cut the loaf into as many portions as there were persons present; with one double-portion over to be given to some poor one in charity--"the portion of the good god." it is of a miraculous nature, this blessed bread: the sailors of provence carry morsels of it with them on their voyages, and by strewing its crumbs upon the troubled waters stay the tempests of the sea. for the rest, the table had down its middle a line of dishes--many of them old faience of moustiers, the mere sight of which would have thrilled a collector's heart--heaped with the nougat and the other sweets over the making of which our housekeeper and her lieutenants so soulfully had toiled. and on the table in the corner were fruits and nuts and wines. grace always is said before the great supper--a simple formula ending with the prayer of the yule-log that if another year there are no more, there may be no less. it is the custom that this blessing shall be asked by the youngest child of the family who can speak the words: a pretty usage which sometimes makes the blessing go very queerly indeed. our little tounin came to the front again in this matter, exhibiting an air of grave responsibility which showed that he had been well drilled; and it was with quite a saintly look on his little face that he folded his hands together and said very earnestly: "god bless all that we are going to eat, and if we are no less next year may we be no more!" at which everybody looked at janetoun and laughed. in our seating a due order of precedence was observed. old jan, the head of the family, presided, with the vidame and myself on his right and with elizo's father and mother on his left; and thence the company went downward by age and station to the foot of the table, where were grouped the servants from the château and the workmen on the farm. but no other distinction was made. all were served alike and all drank together as equals when the toasts were called. the servers were elizo and janetoun, with nanoun and magali for assistants; and those four, although they took their places at the table when each course had been brought on, had rather a passover time of it: for they ate as it were with their loins girded and with full or empty dishes imminent to their hands. the stout nanoun--whose robust body thrills easily to superstitious fears--was still farther handicapped in her own eating by her zealous effort so to stuff the family cat as to give that animal no excuse for uttering evil-portending miaus. for it is well known that should the family cat fall to miauing on christmas eve, and especially while the supper is in progress, very dreadful things surely will happen to the family during the ensuing year. fortunately nanoun's preventive measures averted this calamity; yet were they like to have overshot their mark. only the cat's natural abstemiousness saved her that night from dying of a surfeit--and in agony surely provocative of the very cries which nanoun sought to restrain! as i have said, the great supper must be "lean," and is restricted to certain dishes which in no wise can be changed; but a rich leanness is possible in a country where olive-oil takes the place of animal fat in cooking, and where the accumulated skill of ages presides over the kitchen fire. the principal dish is the _raïto_--a ragout made of delicately fried fish served in a sauce flavoured with wine and capers--whereof the tradition goes back a round twenty-five hundred years: to the time when the phokæan housewives brought with them to massalia (the marseille of to-day) the happy mystery of its making from their grecian homes. but this excellent dish was not lost to greece because it was gained to gaul: bearing the same name and made in the same fashion it is eaten by the greeks of the present day. it usually is made of dried codfish in provence, where the cod is held in high esteem; but is most delicately toothsome when made of eels. the second course of the great supper also is fish, which may be of any sort and served in any way--in our case it was a perch-like variety of dainty pan-fish, fresh from the rhône. a third course of fish sometimes is served, but the third course usually is snails cooked in a rich brown sauce strongly flavoured with garlic. the provençal snails, which feed in a _gourmet_ fashion upon vine-leaves, are peculiarly delicious--and there was a murmur of delight from our company as the four women brought to the table four big dishes full of them; and for a while there was only the sound of eager munching, mixed with the clatter on china of the empty shells. to extract them, we had the strong thorns, three or four inches long, of the wild acacia; and on these the little brown morsels were carried to the avid mouths and eaten with a bit of bread sopped in the sauce--and then the shell was subjected to a vigorous sucking, that not a drop of the sauce lingering within it should be lost. to the snails succeeded another dish essentially provençal, _carde_. the carde is a giant thistle that grows to a height of five or six feet, and is so luxuriantly magnificent both in leaf and in flower that it deserves a place among ornamental plants. the edible portion is the stem--blanched like celery, which it much resembles, by being earthed-up--cooked with a white sauce flavoured with garlic. the garlic, however, is a mistake, since it overpowers the delicate taste of the carde--but garlic is the overlord of all things eatable in provence. i was glad when we passed on to the celery, with which the first section of the supper came to an end. the second section was such an explosion of sweets as might fly into space should a comet collide with a confectioner's shop--nougat, _fougasso_, a great _poumpo_, compotes, candied-fruits, and a whole nightmare herd of rich cakes on which persons not blessed with the most powerful organs of digestion surely would go galloping to the country of dreadful dreams. this was prodigality; but even the bare requirements of the case were lavish, the traditional law of the great supper ordaining that not fewer than seven different sweets shall be served. misè fougueiroun, however, was not the person to stand upon the parsimonious letter of any eating law. here had been her opportunity, and she had run amuck through all the range of sugary things! of the dessert of nuts and fruit the notable features were grapes and winter-melons. possibly because they are an obscure survival of some bacchic custom connected with the celebration of the winter solstice, the grapes are considered a very necessary part of the great supper; but as provençal grapes are of a soft substance and soon wither, though a world of care is taken to preserve a few bunches until christmas, this part of the feast usually is a ceremony rather than a satisfaction. but our melons were a pure vegetable delight. these winter-melons are a species of cantaloupe, but of a firmer texture than the summer fruit, sowed late in the season and laid away a little green on beds of straw in cool and dark and well-aired rooms. thus cared for, they will keep until the end of january; but they are preserved especially for christmas, and few survive beyond that day. they are of american origin: as i discovered quite by chance while reading a collection of delightful letters, but lately published, written near three hundred years ago by dr. antoine novel; that provençal naturalist, whom buffon quotes under the wrongly latinized name of natalis, sometime physician to the duke of medina-sidonia in spain. he was a rolling stone of a naturalist, the excellent novel; but his gatherings were many, and most of them were for the benefit of his beloved provence. it was from "sainct luquar," under date of march , , that he wrote to his friend peiresc in aix: "i send you by the patron armand a little box in which are two specimens of ore ... and ten sorts of seeds of the most exquisite fruits and flowers of the indies; and to fill the chinks i have put in the seeds of winter-melons." and in a letter of june th, following, he wrote: "i hope that you have received my letter sent by the patron armand of martigues, who sailed in holy week for that town, by whom i sent you some seeds of exquisite fruits and flowers of the indies, together with two specimens of ore, the one from potosí and the other from terra-firma, and also a box of seven winter-melons of that country." and so the winter-melons came into provence from somewhere on the spanish main. i could wish that my gentleman had been a bit more definite in his geography. as he leaves the matter, his melons may have come from anywhere between the orinoco and florida; and down in that region somewhere, no doubt, they still are to be found. with the serious part of the supper we drank the ordinary small wine diluted with water; but with the dessert was paraded a gallant company of dusty bottles containing ancient vintages which through many ripening years had been growing richer by feeding upon their own excellence in the wine-room of the mazet or the cellar of the château. all were wines of the country, it being a point of honour in provençal households of all degrees that only from provençal vineyards--or from the near-by vineyards of languedoc--shall come the christmas wines. therefore we drank rich and strong tavel, and delicate ledenon, and heavy frontignan--the cloyingly-sweet mouscat de maroussa--and home-made champagne (the _clairette_, with a superabundance of pop and fizz but undeniably cider-like), and at last, for a climax, old châteauneuf-du-pape: the dean of the provençal vinous faculty, rich, smooth, delicate, with a slightly aromatic after-taste that the dallying bees bring to the vine-blossoms from the blossoms of the wild-thyme. anciently it filled the cups over which chirped the sprightly popes of avignon; and in later times, only forty years back, it was the drink of the young félibrien poets--mistral, roumanille, aubanel, mathieu and the rest--while they tuned and set a-going their lyres. but it is passing into a tradition now. the old vines, the primitive stock, were slain by the phylloxera, and the new vines planted to replace them do not produce a wine like that over which popes and poets once were gay. only in rich old cellars, such as that of vièlmur, may still be found a bin or two of dust-grey papal veterans: survivors of the brave army that has gurgled its life out in a happy past! xiii but the material element of the great supper is its least part. what entitles it to the augmenting adjective is its soul: that subtle essence of peace and amity for which the word christmas is a synonym in all christian lands. it is the rule of these family gatherings at christmas time in provence that all heartburnings and rancours, which may have sprung up during the year, then shall be cut down; and even if sometimes they quickly grow again, as no doubt they do now and then, it makes for happiness that they shall be thus banished from the peace-feast of the year. janetoun and one of her sisters-in-law were the only members of our party who had a hatchet to bury; and the burial was over so quickly--being but an extra hug and an explosion of kisses--that i should have known nothing about it but for the over-long tongue of misè fougueiroun: who, in a kindly way, is as thorough-going a gossip as ever lived. of all things in the world to quarrel about, this quarrel had grown out of a spirited difference of opinion as to how the heel of a knitted stocking should be turned! but the matter had come to be quite of a seriousness, and all the family breathed freer when those resounding peace-kisses were given and received. actually, as i happened to learn later, the reconciliation was pushed to such an extreme that each of them incontinently adopted the other's knitting creed--with the curious result that they now are in a fair way to have a fresh quarrel for next christmas out of the same matter on inverted lines! it was before the lighting of the yule-log that the feud of the stocking heels thus happily (even though only temporarily) was pacified, and the family festival was cloudless from first to last. when the serious part of the supper had been disposed of and the mere palate-tickling period of the dessert had come, i was much interested in observing that the talk--mainly carried on by the elders--was turned with an obviously deliberate purpose upon family history; and especially upon the doings of those who in the past had brought honour upon the family name. and i was still more interested when, later, the vidame informed me that it is the provençal custom at the christmas festival for the old thus to instruct the young and so to keep family tradition alive. no doubt there is in this a dim survival of ancestor-worship; but i should be glad to see so excellent a relic of paganism preserved in the christmas ritual of my own land. the chief ancestral glory of the family of the mazet is its close blood-relationship with the gallant andré Étienne: that drummer of the fifty-first demi-brigade of the army of italy who is commemorated on the frieze of the panthéon, and who is known and honoured as the "tambour d'arcole" all over france. it was delightful to listen to old jan's telling of the brave story: how this andré, their own kinsman, swam the stream under the enemy's fire at arcolo with his drum on his back and then drummed his fellow-soldiers on to victory; how the first consul awarded him the drum-sticks of honour, and later--when the legion of honour was founded--gave him the cross; how they carved him in stone, drumming the charge, up there on the front of the panthéon in paris itself; how mistral, the great poet of provence, had made a poem about him that had been printed in a book; and how, crowning glory, they had set up his marble statue in cadenet--the little town, not far from avignon, where he was born! old jan was not content with merely telling this story--like a true provençal he acted it: swinging a supposititious drum upon his back, jumping into an imaginary river and swimming it with his head in the air, swinging his drum back into place again, and then--_zóu!_--starting off at the head of the fifty-first demi-brigade with such a rousing play of drum-sticks that i protest we fairly heard the rattle of them, along with the spatter of italian musketry in the face of which andré Étienne beat that gallant _pas-de-charge_! it set me all a-thrilling; and still more did it thrill those other listeners who were of the arcolo hero's very blood and bone. they clapped their hands and they shouted. they laughed with delight. and the fighting spirit of gaul was so stirred within them that at a word--the relations between france and italy being a little strained just then--i verily believe they would have been for marching in a body across the south-eastern frontier! elizo's old father was rather out of the running in this matter. it was not by any relative of his that the drum-sticks of honour had been won; and his thoughts, after wandering a little, evidently settled down upon the strictly personal fact that his thin old legs were cold. rising slowly from the table, he carried his plate to the fire-place; and when he had arranged some live coals in one of the baskets of the waist-high andirons he rested the plate above them on the iron rim: and so stood there, eating contentedly, while the warmth from the glowing yule-log entered gratefully into his lean old body and stirred to a brisker pulsing the blood in his meagre veins. but his interest in what was going forward revived again--his legs being, also, by that time well warmed--when his own praises were sounded by his daughter: in the story of how he stopped the runaway horse on the very brink of the precipice at les baux; and how his wife all the while sat calmly beside him in the cart, cool and silent, and showing no sign of fear. when elizo had finished this story she whispered a word to magali and nanoun that sent them laughing out of the room; and presently magali came back again arrayed in the identical dress which had been worn by the heroine of the adventure--who had perked and plumed herself not a little while her daughter told about it--when the runaway horse so nearly had galloped her off the baux rock into eternity. it was the provençal costume--with full sleeves and flaring cap--of sixty years back; but a little gayer than the strict arles dress of that period, because her mother was not of arles but of beaucaire. it was not so graceful, especially in the head-dress, as the costume of the present day; nor nearly so becoming--as magali showed by looking a dozen years older after putting it on. but magali, even with a dozen years added, could not but be charming; and i think that the little old bowed grandmother--who still was a bit of a coquette at eighty--would have been better pleased had she been spared this encounter with what must have seemed to her very like a meeting with her own young ghost, raised suddenly from the depths of the distant past. [illustration: magali] by long experience, gained on many such occasions, the vidame knew that the culminating point of the supper would be reached when the family drummer swam the river and headed the french charge at arcolo. therefore had he reserved until a later period, when the excitement incident to the revival of that honourable bit of family history should have subsided, a joy-giving bomb-shell of his own that he had all ready to explode. an american or an englishman never could have fired it without something in the way of speech-making; but the vidame was of a shy temper, and speech-making was not in his line. when the chatter caused by magali's costuming had lulled a little, and there came a momentary pause in the talk, he merely reached diagonally across the table and touched glasses with esperit and said simply: "to your good health, monsieur the superintendent of the lower farm!" it was done so quietly that for some seconds no one realized that the vidame's toast brought happiness to all the household, and to two of its members a life-long joy. esperit, even, had his glass almost to his lips before he understood to what he was drinking; and then his understanding came through the finer nature of magali--who gave a quick deep sob as she buried her face in the buxom nanoun's bosom and encircled that astonished young person's neck with her arms. esperit went pale at that; but the hand did not tremble in which he held his still-raised glass, nor did his voice quaver as he said with a deep earnestness: "to the good health of monsieur le vidame, with the thanks of two very happy hearts!"--and so drained his wine. a great danger puts no more strain upon the nerves of a man of good fibre than does a great joy; and it seemed to me that esperit's absolute steadiness, under this sudden fire of happiness, showed him to be made of as fine and as manly stuff as went to the making of his kinsman who beat the _pas-de-charge_ up the slope at arcolo at the head of the fifty-first demi-brigade. but nothing less than the turbulence of the whole battle of arcolo--not to say of that whole triumphant campaign in italy--will suffice for a comparison with the tumult that arose about our supper-table when the meaning of the vidame's toast fairly was grasped by the company at large! i do not think that i could express in words--nor by any less elaborate method of illustration than a kinetoscope--the state of excitement into which a provençal will fly over a matter of absolutely no importance at all; how he will burst forth into a very whirlwind of words and gestures about some trifle that an ordinary human being would dispose of without the quiver of an eye. and as our matter was one so truly moving that a very dutchman through all his phlegm would have been stirred by it, such a tornado was set a-going as would have put a mere hurricane of the tropics to open shame! naturally, the disturbance was central over esperit and magali and the vidame. the latter--his kind old face shining like the sun of an easter morning--gave back with a good will on magali's cheeks her kisses of gratitude; and exchanged embraces and kisses with the elder women; and went through such an ordeal of violent hand-shaking that i trembled for the integrity of his arms. but as for the young people, whom everybody embraced over and over again with a terrible energy, that they came through it all with whole ribs is as near to being a miracle as anything that has happened in modern times! gradually the storm subsided--though not without some fierce after-gusts--and at last worked itself off harmlessly in song: as we returned to the ritual of the evening and took to the singing of noëls--the christmas canticles which are sung between the ending of the great supper and the beginning of the midnight mass. xiv the provençal noëls--being some real, or some imagined, incident of the nativity told in verse set to a gay or tender air--are the crèche translated into song. the simplest of them are direct renderings of the bible narrative. our own christmas hymn, "while shepherds watched their flocks by night," is precisely of this order; and, indeed, is of the very period when flourished the greatest of the provençal noël writers: for the poet laureate nahum tate, whose laurel this hymn keeps green, was born in the year and had begun his mildly poetic career while saboly still was alive. but most of the noëls--_nouvè_, they are called in provençal--are purely imaginative: quaintly innocent stories created by the poets, or taken from those apocryphal scriptures in which the simple-minded faithful of patristic times built up a warmly coloured legend of the virgin's life and of the birth and childhood of her son. sometimes, even, the writers stray away entirely from a religious base and produce mere roistering catches or topical songs. such are those marseille noëls which are nothing more than pantagruelian lists of succulent dishes proper to christmas time--frankly ending, in one case, with the materialistic query: "what do i care for the future, now that my belly is well lined?" it was against such "bacchanals of noël" that the worthy father cotton preached in marseille in the year : but the flesh and the devil always have had things pretty much their own way in that gay city, and he preached in vain. and at aix-en-provence the most popular noël of all that were sung in the cathedral was a satirical review of the events of the year: that as time went on grew to be more and more of a scandal, until at last the bishop had to put a stop to it in the year . the provençaux have been writing noëls for more than four hundred years. one of the oldest belongs to the first half of the fifteenth century and is ascribed to raimond féraud; the latest are of our own day--by roumanille, crousillat, mistral, girard, gras, and a score more. but only a few have been written to live. the memory of many once-famous noël-writers is preserved now either mainly or wholly by a single song. thus the chanoine puech, who died at aix almost two hundred and fifty years ago, lives in the noël of the christ-child and the three gypsy fortune-tellers--which he stole, i am sorry to say, from lope de vega. the abbé doumergue, of aramon, who flourished at about the same period, is alive because of his "march of the kings": that has come ringing down through the ages set to lulli's magnificent "march of turenne"; and it is interesting to note that lulli is said to have found his noble motive in a provençal air. antoine peyrol, who lived only a little more than a century ago, and who "in our good city of avignon was a carpenter and wood-seller and a simple-hearted singer of bethlehem" (as roumanille puts it) has fared better, more than a dozen of his noëls surviving to be sung each year when "the nougat bells" (as they call the christmas chimes in avignon) are ringing in his native town. and, on the other hand, as though to strike a balance between fame and forgottenness, there are some widely popular noëls--as "c'est le bon lever"--of which the authorship absolutely is unknown; while there are still others--as the charming "wild nightingale"--which belong to no one author, but have been built up by unknown farm-house poets who have added fresh verses and so have passed on the amended song. the one assured immortal among these musical mortalities is nicolas saboly: who was born in monteux, close by avignon, in the year ; who for the greater part of his life was chapel-master and organist of the avignon church of st. pierre; who died in the year ; and who lies buried in the choir of the church which for so long he filled with his own heaven-sweet harmonies. of his beautiful life-work, roumanille has written: "as organist of the church of st. pierre, saboly soon won a great and beautiful renown as a musician; but his fame and his glory have come to him because of the blessed thought that he had of composing his marvellous noëls. yet it was not until the year , when he himself was fifty-four years old, that he decided to tie together and to publish his first sheaf of them. from that time onward, every year until his end, a fresh sheaf of from six to a dozen appeared; and, although no name went with them, all of his townsfolk knew that it was their own troubadour of the nativity who made them so excellent a gift just as the nougat bells began to ring. the organ of st. pierre, touched by his master hand, taught the gay airs to which the new noëls were cast. and all avignon presently would be singing them, and soon the chorus would swell throughout the comtat and provence. the inimitable troubadour of bethlehem died just as he had tied together the eighth of his little sheaves.... his noëls have been reprinted many times; and, thanks be to god, they will be printed again and again forever!"[ ] in addition to being a genius, saboly had the good fortune to live in one of the periods of fusing and recasting which give to genius its opportunity. he was born at the very time when claude monteverde was taking those audacious liberties with harmony which cleared the way for the transition from the old tonality to the new; and he died before the great modern masters had set up those standards which composers of our time must either accept or defy. he certainly was influenced by the then new italian school; indeed, from the fourteenth century, when music began to be cultivated in avignon, the relations between that city and italy were so close that the first echoes of italian musical innovators naturally would be heard there. everywhere his work shows, as theirs does, a searching for new methods in the domain of modulation, and a defiance of the laws of transformation reverenced by the formal composers of his time. yet he did his searching always on his own lines and in his own way. nor was his original genius lessened by his willingness at times to lay hands on the desirable property of other people--since his unlawful acquisitions received always a subtle touch which really made them his own. he knew well how to take the popular airs of the moment--the gavotte or minuet or vaudeville which every one was singing: the good old airs, as we call them now, which then were the newest of the new--and how to infuse into them his own personality and so to fit them like a glove to his own noëls. thus, his twelfth noël is set to an air composed by lulli for the drinking song, "qu'ils sont doux, bouteille jolie," in molière's "médecin malgré lui"; and those who are familiar with the music of his time will be both scandalized and set a-laughing by finding the uses to which he has put airs which began life in far from seemly company. but his forays were made from choice, not from necessity, and the best of his noëls are his own. saboly's music has a "go" and a melodic quality suggestive of the work of sir arthur sullivan; but it has a more tender, a fresher, a purer note, even more sparkle, than ever sullivan has achieved. in his gay airs the attack is instant, brilliant, overpowering--like a glad outburst of sweet bells, like the joyous laughter of a child--and everything goes with a dash and a swing. but while he thus loved to harmonize a laugh, he also could strike a note of infinite tenderness. in his pathetic noëls he drops into thrillingly plaintive minors which fairly drag one's heart out--echoes or survivals, possibly (for this poignant melody is not uncommon in old provençal music), of the passionately longing love-songs with which saracen knights once went a-serenading beneath castle windows here in provence. nor is his verse, of its curious kind, less excellent than his music. by turns, as the humour takes him, his noëls are sermons, or delicate religious fancies, or sharp-pointed satires, or whimsical studies of country-side life. one whole series of seven is a history of the nativity (surely the quaintest and the gayest and the tenderest oratorio that ever was written!) in which, in music and in words, he is at his very best. above all, his noëls are local. his background always is his own country; his characters--micolau the big shepherd, gossip guihaumeto, tòni, christòu, and the rest--always are provençaux: wearing provençaux pink-bordered jackets, and white hats bedizened with ribbons, and marching to bethlehem to the sound of the _galoubet_ and _tambourin_. it is from avignon, out by the porte saint lazare, that the start for bethlehem is made by his pilgrim company; the provençal music plays to cheer them; they stamp their feet and swing their arms about, because the mistral is blowing and they are desperately cold. it is a simplicity half laughable, half pathetic--such as is found in those mediæval pictures which represent the apostles or the holy family in the garb of the artist's own time and country, and above the walls of bethlehem the church spire of his own town. this naïve local twist is not peculiar to saboly. with very few exceptions all provençal noëls are packed full of the same delightful anachronisms. it is to provençal shepherds that the herald angel appears; it is provençaux who compose the _bregado_, the pilgrim company, that starts for bethlehem; and bethlehem is a village, always within easy walking distance, here in provence. yet it is not wholly simplicity that has brought about this shifting of the scene of the nativity from the hill country of judæa to the hill country of southeastern france. the life and the look of the two lands have much in common; and most impressively will their common character be felt by one who walks here by night beneath the stars. here, as in the holy land, winding ways pass out from olive-orchards, and on across dry reaches of upland broken by outcropping rocks and scattered trees and bushes and sparsely thatched with short dry grass. through the silence will come now and then the tinkle of sheep-bells. sometimes a flock will be seen, dimly in the starlight, feeding beside the road; and watching, from an overlooking standpoint on a rock or little upswelling hill-top, will be its shepherd: a tall muffled figure showing black against the loom of the sky. and it all is touched, in the star-haze of those sombre solitudes, with the poetic realism of unreality; while its deeper meaning is aroused by the stone crosses, telling of calvary, which are found at every parting of the ways. told to simple dwellers in such a land the bible story was neither vague nor remote. they knew its setting because their own surroundings were the same. they practised the shepherd customs; the ass was their own beast of burden; the tending of vines and fig-trees and olive-orchards was a part of their daily lives. and so, naturally, the older noël writers without any thought of anachronism, and the modern writers by poetic instinct made complete their translation of the story of the nativity into their vernacular by transferring its scene to their own land. xv it was with saboly's "hòu, de l'houstau!" that our singing began. it is one of the series in his history of the nativity and is the most popular of all his noëls: a dialogue between saint joseph and the bethlehem inn-keeper, that opens with a sweet and plaintive long-drawn note of supplication as saint joseph timorously calls: "o-o-oh, there, the house! master! mistress! varlet! maid! is _no_ one there?" and then it continues with humble entreaties for shelter for himself and his wife, who is very near her time; to which the host replies with rough refusals for a while, but in the end grants grudgingly a corner of his stable in which the wayfarers may lie for the night. esperit and magali sang this responsively; magali taking saint joseph's part--in which, in all the noëls, is a strain of feminine sweetness and gentleness. then marius and esperit, in the same fashion, sang the famous "c'est le bon lever": a dialogue between an angel and a shepherd, in which the angel--as becomes so exalted a personage--speaks french, while the shepherd speaks provençal. "it's high time to get up, sweet shepherd," the angel begins; and goes on to tell that "in bethlehem, quite near this place," the saviour of the world has been born of a virgin. "perhaps you take me for a common peasant," the shepherd answers, "talking to me like that! i am poor, but i'd have you to know that i come of good stock. in old times my great-great-grandfather was mayor of our village! and who are you, anyway, fine sir? are you a jew or a dutchman? your jargon makes me laugh. a virgin mother! a child god! no, never were such things heard!" but when the angel reiterates his strange statement the shepherd's interest is aroused. he declares that he will go at once and steal this miraculous child; and he quite takes the angel into his confidence--as though standing close to his elbow and speaking as friend to friend. in the end, of course, he is convinced of the miracle, and says that he "will get the ass and set forth" to join the worshippers about the manger at bethlehem. there are many of these noëls in dialogue; and most of them are touched with this same quality of easy familiarity with sacred subjects, and abound in turns of broad humour which render them not a little startling from our nicer point of view. but they never are coarse, and their simplicity saves them from being irreverent; nor is there, i am sure, the least thought of irreverence on the part of those by whom they are sung. i noticed, though, that these lively numbers were the ones which most hit the fancy of the men; while the women as plainly showed their liking for those of a finer spirit in which the dominant qualities were pathos and grace. of this latter class is roumanille's rarely beautiful noël "the blind girl" ("la chato avuglo")--that magali sang with a tenderness which set the women to crying openly, and which made the older men cough a little and look suspiciously red about the eyes. of all the modern noëls it has come closest to and has taken the strongest hold upon the popular heart: this pathetic story of the child "blind from her birth" who pleads with her mother that she also may go with the rest to bethlehem, urging that though she cannot see "the lovely golden face" she still may touch the christ-child's hand. and when, all thrilling, to the stable she was come she placed the little hand of jesus on her heart-- and saw him whom she touched! [illustration: "the blind girl"--noËl] but without the music, and with only these crude translations in which is lost also the music of the words, i feel that i am giving very much less than the true effect of these provençal christmas songs. to be appreciated, to be understood, they must be heard as i heard them: sung by that christmas company, with magali's tenderly vibrant voice leading the chorus in which every one of those singing provençaux joined. even the old grandfather--still standing at the fire-place--marked the time of the music with the knife that he held in his hand; and his thin old voice piped in with the others, and had a gay or a tender ring in it with the changing melody, for all that it was so cracked and shrill. i am persuaded, so thoroughly did they all enjoy their own carolling, that the singing of noëls would have gone on until broad daylight had it not been for the intervention of the midnight mass. but the mass of christmas eve--or, rather, of christmas morning--is a matter not only of pleasure but of obligation. even those upon whom churchly requirements at other times rest lightly rarely fail to attend it; and to the faithful it is the most touchingly beautiful--as easter is the most joyous--church festival of the year. by eleven o'clock, therefore, we were under way for our walk of a mile or so down the long slope of the hill side to the village: a little clump of houses threaded by narrow crooked streets and still in part surrounded by the crusty remnant of a battlemented wall--that had its uses in the days when robber barons took their airings and when pillaging saracens came sailing up the slack-water lower reaches of the rhône. down the white road in the moonlight we went in a straggling company, while more and more loudly came to us through the crisp night air the sound of the christmas bells. presently some one started a very sweet and plaintive noël: fairly heart-wringing in its tender beseeching and soft lament, yet with a consoling under-note to which it constantly returned. i think, but i am not sure, that it was roumanille's noël telling of the widowed mother who carried the cradle of her own baby to the virgin, that the christ-child might not lie on straw. one by one the other voices took up the strain, until in a full chorus the sorrowingly compassionate melody went thrilling through the moonlit silence of the night. and so, singing, we walked by the white way onward; hearing as we neared the town the songs of other companies coming up, as ours was, from outlying farms. and when they and we had passed in through the gateways--where the townsfolk of old lashed out against their robber infidel and robber christian enemies--all the black little narrow streets were filled with an undertone of murmuring voices and an overtone of clear sweet song. xvi on the little grande place the crowd was packed densely. there the several streams of humanity pouring into the town met and mingled; and thence in a strong current flowed onward into the church. coming from the blackness without--for the tall houses surrounding the grande place cut off the moonlight and made it a little pocket of darkness--it was with a shock of splendour that we encountered the brightness within. all the side-altars were blazing with candles; and as the service went on, and the high-altar also flamed up, the whole building was filled with a soft radiance--save that strange luminous shadows lingered in the lofty vaulting of the nave. after the high-altar, the most brilliant spot was the altar of saint joseph, in the west transept; beside which was a magnificent crèche--the figures half life-size, beautifully modelled, and richly clothed. but there was nothing whimsical about this crèche: the group might have been, and very possibly had been, composed after a well-painted "nativity" by some artist of the late renaissance. the mass was the customary office; but at the offertory it was interrupted by a ceremony that gave it suddenly an entirely mediæval cast: of which i felt more fully the beauty, and the strangeness in our time, because the vidame sedulously had guarded against my having knowledge of it in advance. this was nothing less than a living rendering of the adoration of the shepherds: done with a simplicity to make one fancy the figures in ghirlandojo's picture were alive again and stirred by the very spirit that animated them when they were set on canvas four hundred years ago. by some means only a little short of a miracle, a way was opened through the dense crowd along the centre of the nave from the door to the altar, and up this way with their offerings real shepherds came--the quaintest procession that anywhere i have ever seen. in the lead were four musicians--playing upon the _tambourin_, the _galoubet_, the very small cymbals called _palets_, and the bagpipe-like _carlamuso_--and then, two by two, came ten shepherds: wearing the long brown full cloaks, weather-stained and patched and mended, which seem always to have come down through many generations and which never by any chance are new; carrying tucked beneath their arms their battered felt hats browned, like their cloaks, by long warfare with sun and rain; holding in one hand a lighted candle and in the other a staff. the two leaders dispensing with staves and candles, bore garlanded baskets; one filled with fruit--melons, pears, apples, and grapes--and in the other a pair of doves: which with sharp quick motions turned their heads from side to side as they gazed wonderingly on their strange surroundings with their bright beautiful eyes. following came the main offering: a spotless lamb. most originally, and in a way poetically, was this offering made. drawn by a mild-faced ewe, whose fleece had been washed to a wonder of whiteness and who was decked out with bright-coloured ribbons in a way to unhinge with vanity her sheepish mind, was a little two-wheeled cart--all garlanded with laurel and holly, and bedizened with knots of ribbon and pink paper roses and glittering little objects such as are hung on christmas-trees in other lands. lying in the cart placidly, not bound and not in the least frightened, was the dazzlingly-white lamb, decked like the ewe with knots of ribbon and wearing about its neck a red collar brilliant to behold. now and then the ewe would turn to look at it, and in response to one of those wistful maternal glances the little creature stood up shakily on its unduly long legs and gave an anxious baa! but when a shepherd bent over and stroked it gently, it was reassured; lying down contentedly again in its queer little car of triumph, and thereafter through the ceremony remaining still. behind the car came ten more shepherds; and in their wake a long double line of country-folk, each with a lighted candle in hand. there is difficulty, indeed, in keeping that part of the demonstration within bounds, because it is esteemed an honour and a privilege to walk in the procession of the offered lamb. slowly that strange company moved toward the altar, where the ministering priest awaited its coming; and at the altar steps the bearers of the fruit and the doves separated, so that the little cart might come between them and their offering be made complete, while the other shepherds formed a semi-circle in the rear. the music was stilled, and the priest accepted and set upon the altar the baskets; and then extended the paten that the shepherds, kneeling, might kiss it in token of their offering of the lamb. this completed the ceremony. the _tambourin_ and _galoubet_ and _palets_ and _carlamuso_ all together struck up again; and the shepherds and the lamb's car passed down the nave between the files of candle-bearers and so out through the door. within the past sixty years or so this naïve ceremony has fallen more and more into disuse. but it still occasionally is revived--as at barbentane in , and rognonas in , and repeatedly within the past decade in the sheep-raising parish of maussane--by a curé who is at one with his flock in a love for the customs of ancient times. its origin assuredly goes back far into antiquity; so very far, indeed, that the airs played by the musicians in the procession seem by comparison quite of our own time: yet tradition ascribes the composition of those airs to the good king rené, whose happy rule over provence ended more than four centuries ago. another custom of a somewhat similar character, observed formerly in many of the provençal churches, was the grouping before the altar at the mass on christmas day of a young girl, a choir-boy, and a dove: in allegorical representation of the virgin mary, the angel gabriel, and the holy ghost. but the assembly of this quaint little company long since ceased to be a part of the christmas rite. xvii when the stir caused by the coming and the going of the shepherds had subsided, the mass went on; with no change from the usual observance, until the sacrament was administered, save that there was a vigorous singing of noëls. it was congregational singing of a very enthusiastic sort--indeed, nothing short of gagging every one of them could have kept those song-loving provençaux still--but it was led by the choir, and choristers took the solo parts. the most notable number was the famous noël in which the crowing of a cock alternates with the note of a nightingale; each verse beginning with a prodigious cock-a-doodle-d-o-o! and then rattling along to the gayest of gay airs. the nightingale was not a brilliant success; but the cock-crowing was so realistic that at its first outburst i thought that a genuine barn-yard gallant was up in the organ-loft. i learned later that this was a musical _tour-de-force_ for which the organist was famed. a buzz of delight filled the church after each cock-crowing volley; and i fancy that i was alone in finding anything odd in so jaunty a performance within church walls. the viewpoint in regard to such matters is of race and education. the provençaux, who are born laughing, are not necessarily irreverent because even in sacred places they sometimes are frankly gay. assuredly, there was no lack of seemly decorum when the moment came for the administration of the sacrament; which rite on christmas eve is reserved to the women, the men communing on christmas day. the women who were to partake--nearly all who were present--wore the provençal costume, but of dark colour. most of them were in black, save for the white chapelle, or kerchief, and the scrap of white which shows above the ribbon confining the knotted hair. but before going up to the altar each placed upon her head a white gauze veil, so long and so ample that her whole person was enveloped in its soft folds; and the women were so many, and their action was with such sudden unanimity, that in a moment a delicate mist seemed to have fallen and spread its silvery whiteness over all the throng. singly and by twos and threes those palely gleaming figures moved toward the altar, until more than a hundred of them were crowded together before the sanctuary rail. nearest to the rail, being privileged to partake before the rest, stood a row of black-robed sisters--teachers in the parish school--whose sombre habits made a vigorous line of black against the dazzle of the altar, everywhere aflame with candles, and by contrast gave to all that sweep of lustrous misty whiteness a splendour still softer and more strange. and within the rail the rich vestments of the ministering priests, and the rich cloths of the altar, all in a flood of light, added a warm colour-note of gorgeous tones. slowly the rite went on. twenty at a time the women, kneeling, ranged themselves at the rail; rising to give room to others when they had partaken, and so returning to their seats. for a full half hour those pale lambent figures were moving ghost-like about the church, while the white-veiled throng before the altar gradually diminished until at last it disappeared: fading from sight a little at a time, softly--as dream-visions of things beautiful melt away. * * * * * presently came the benediction: and all together we streamed out from the brightness of the church into the wintry darkness--being by that time well into christmas morning, and the moon gone down. but when we had left behind us the black streets of the little town, and were come out into the open country, the star-haze sufficed to light us as we went onward by the windings of the spectral white road: for the stars shine very gloriously in provence. we elders kept together staidly, as became the gravity of our years; but the young people--save two of them--frolicked on ahead and took again with a will to singing noëls; and from afar we heard through the night-stillness, sweetly, other home-going companies singing these glad christmas songs. lingering behind us, following slowly, came esperit and magali--to whom that christmas-tide had brought a life-time's happiness. they did not join in the joy-songs, nor did i hear them talking. the fullest love is still. and peace and good-will were with us as we went along the white way homeward beneath the christmas morning stars. saint-remy-de-provence, _september, ._ a feast-day on the rhône i this water feast-day was a part of the biennial pilgrimage to the sainte-estelle of the félibrige and the cigaliers: the two félibrien societies maintained in paris by the children of the south of france. through twenty-three dreary months those expatriated ones exist in the chill north; in the blessed twenty-fourth month--always in burning august, when the melons are luscious ripe and the grapes are ripening, when the sun they love so well is blazing his best and the whole land is a-quiver with a thrilling stimulating heat--they go joyously southward upon an excursion which has for its climax the great félibrien festival: and then, in their own gloriously hot midi, they really live! by a semi-right and by a large courtesy, we of america were of this gay party. four years earlier, as the official representatives of an american troubadour, we had come upon an embassy to the troubadours of provence; and such warm relations had sprung up between ourselves and the poets to whom we were accredited that they had ended by making us members of their own elect body: the society of the félibrige--wherein are united the troubadours of these modern times. as félibres, therefore, it was not merely our right but our duty to attend the festival of the sainte-estelle; and our official notification in regard to this meeting--received in new york on a chill day in the early spring-time--announced also that we were privileged to journey on the special steamboat chartered by our brethren of paris for the run from lyons to avignon down the rhône. ii we were called at five o'clock in the morning. even the little birds of lyons were drowsy at that untoward and melancholy hour. as i slowly roused myself i heard their sleepy twitterings out in the trees on the cours du midi--and my sympathies were with them. there are natures which are quickened and strengthened by the early day. mine is not such. i know of nothing which so numbs what i am pleased to term my faculties as to be _particeps criminis_ in the rising of the sun. but life was several shades less cheerless by the time that we left the hôtel univers--which i ever shall remember gratefully because it ministered so well, even in the very midst of the driving bustle of the lyons exposition, to our somewhat exacting needs--and went down to the river side. already the mists of morning had risen, and in their place was the radiant sunshine of the midi: that penetrating, tingling sunshine which sets the blood to dancing and thence gets into the brain and breeds extravagant fancies there which straightway are uttered as substantial truths--as m. daudet so often has told us; and also, when writing about this his own dearly-loved birth-land, so often has demonstrated in his own text. yet had we come to the boat while still in the lowering mood begotten of our intemperate palterings with the dawn we must have yielded quickly to the infectious cheerfulness which obtained on board the _gladiateur_. even a grey penitent would have been moved, coming unawares into that gay company, to throw off his _cagoule_ and to dance a saraband. from end to end the big _gladiateur_ was bright with bunting--flags set in clusters on the great paddle-boxes, on the bow, on the stern--and the company thronging on board was living up to the brightness of the sunshine and the flags. for they were going home, home to their dear south, those poet exiles: and their joy was so strong within them that it almost touched the edge of tears. i could understand their feeling because of a talk that i had had three days before, in paris, with baptiste bonnet: up in his little apartment under the mansard, with an outlook over the flowers in the window-garden across roof-tops to notre dame. bonnet could not come upon this expedition--and what love and longing there was in his voice while he talked to us about the radiant land which to him was forbidden but which we so soon were to see! to know that we were going, while he remained behind, made us feel like a brace of jacobs; and when madame bonnet made delicious tea for us--"because the english like tea," as she explained with a clear kindliness that in no wise was lessened by her misty ethnology--we felt that so to prey upon their hospitality in the very moment that we were making off with their birthright was of the blackest of crimes. but because of what our dear bonnet had said, and of the way in which he had said it, i understood the deep feeling that underlay the exuberant gayety of our boat-mates--and it seemed to me that there was a very tender note of pathos in their joy. they were of all sorts and conditions, our boat-mates: a few famous throughout the world, as the player mounet-sully, the painter benjamin constant, the prose poet paul arène; many famous throughout france; and even in the rank and file few who had not raised themselves above the multitude in one or another of the domains of art. and all of them were bound together in a democratic brotherhood, which yet--because the absolute essential to membership in it was genius--was an artistic aristocracy. with their spiritual honours had come to many of them honours temporal; indeed, so plentiful were the purple ribbons of the palms and the red rosette of the legion--with here and there even a legion button--as to suggest that the entire company had been caught out without umbrellas while a brisk shower of decorations passed their way. a less general, and a far more picturesque, decoration was the enamelled cigale worn by the cigaliers: at once the emblem of their society, of the félibrien movement, and of the glowing south where that gayest of insects is born and sings his life out in the summer days. most of the poets came to the boat breakfastless, and their first move on board was toward the little cabin on deck wherein coffee was served. the headwaiter at the improvised breakfast table--as i inferred not less from his look and manner than from his ostentatiously professed ignorance of his native tongue--was an english duke in reduced circumstances; and his assistants, i fancy, were retired french senators. indeed, those dignified functionaries had about them an air of high comedy so irresistible, and so many of the ladies whom they served were personages of the odéon or the comédie française, that only the smell of the coffee saved the scene from lapsing into the unrealism of the realistic stage. seven o'clock came, but the _gladiateur_ remained passive. at the gang-plank were assembled the responsible heads of the expedition--who were anything but passive. they all were talking at once, and all were engaged in making gestures expressive of an important member of the party who had been especially charged to be on hand in ample time; who had outraged every moral principle by failing to keep his appointment; whose whereabouts could not be even remotely surmised; whose absence was the equivalent of ruin and despair--a far less complex series of concepts, i may add, than a southern frenchman is capable of expressing with his head and his body and his hands. it was the pianist. a grave majoral, reaching down to the kernel of the matter, solved the difficulty with the question: "have we the piano?" "we have." "enough!" cried the majoral. "let us go." in a moment the gang-plank was drawn aboard; the lines were cast off; the great paddle-wheels began to turn; the swift current laid hold upon us--and the _gladiateur_, slipping away from the bank, headed for the channel-arch of the pont-du-midi. the bridge was thronged with our friends of lyons come down to say good-bye to us. above the parapet their heads cut sharp against the morning glitter of the sun-bright sky. all together they cheered us as we, also cheering, shot beneath them: and then the bridge, half hidden in the cloud of smoke from our huge funnel, was behind us--and our voyage was begun. iii of all the rivers which, being navigable, do serious work in the world the rhône is the most devil-may-care and light-hearted. in its five hundred mile dash down hill from the lake of geneva to the mediterrænean its only purpose--other than that of doing all the mischief possible--seems to be frolic fun. and yet for more than two thousand years this apparently frivolous, and frequently malevolent, river has been very usefully employed in the service of mankind. in the misty barbaric ages before history fairly began, and in the early times of the roman domination, the rhône was the sole highway into northern gaul from the mediterrænean; later, when the gallic system of roman roads had been constructed, it held its own fairly well against the two roads which paralleled it--that on the east bank throughout almost its entire length, and that on the west bank from lyons southward to a point about opposite to the present montélimar; in the semi-barbarous middle ages--when the excitements of travel were increased by the presence of a robber-count at every ford and in every mountain-pass--it became again more important than the parallel highways on land; and in our own day the conditions of roman times, relatively speaking, are restored once more by steamboats on the river and railways on the lines of the ancient roads. and so, having served these several masters, the rhône valley of the present day is stored everywhere with remnants of the barbarism, of the civilization, and of the semi-barbarism which successively have been ploughed under its surface before what we have the temerity to call our own civilization began. keltic flints and pottery underlie roman ruins; just beneath the soil, or still surviving above it, are remains of roman magnificence; and on almost all the hill-tops still stand the broken strongholds of the robber nobles who maintained their nobility upon what they were lucky enough to be able to steal. naturally--those ruined castles, and the still-existent towns of the same period, being so conspicuously in evidence--the flavour of the river is most distinctly mediæval; but a journey in this region, with eyes open to perceive as well as to see, is a veritable descent into the depths of the ancient past. indeed, the _gladiateur_ had but little more than swung clear from lyons--around the long curve where the saône and the rhône are united and the stream suddenly is doubled in size--than we were carried back to the very dawn of historic times. before us, stretching away to the eastward, was the broad plain of saint-fons--once covered with an oak forest to which druid priests bearing golden sickles came from the Île barbe at yule-tide to gather mistletoe for the great pagan feast; later, a battle-field where clodius albinus and septimius severus came to a definite understanding in regard to the rulership of gaul; later still, the site of a pleasure castle of the archbishops of lyons, and of the villa longchêne to which light-hearted lyons' nobles came. palace and villa still are there--the one a dominican school, the other a hospital endowed by the empress eugénie: but the oaks and the druids and the battle are only faint legends now. i am forced to admit that never a thought was given to that aggregation of antiquities by the too-frivolous passengers aboard the _gladiateur_. at the very moment when we were steaming through those gallo-roman and mediæval latitudes there was a burst of music from the piano that fired our light-headed company as a spark fires a mine. the music was the air of "la coupe," the félibrien anthem, and instantly a hundred voices took up the song. when this rite was ended, the music shifted to a livelier key and straightway a farandole was formed. on the whole, a long and narrow steamboat is not an especially good place for a farandole; but the leader of that one--a young person from the odéon, whose hair came down repeatedly but whose exceptionally high spirits never came down at all--was not one of the sort whom difficulties deter. at the head of the long line of dancers--a living chain held together by clasped hands--she caracoled and curveted up and down the narrow passes of the boat; and after her, also caracoling and curveting, came the chain: that each moment grew in length as volunteers joined it, or (in keeping with farandole customs) as the less vivacious members of the party were seized upon and forcibly impressed into its ranks. and so we farandoled clear away to givors. it took the place of a master of ceremonies, our farandole, and acted as an excellent solvent of formalities. yet even without it there would have been none of the stiffness and reserve which would have chilled a company assembled under like conditions in english-speaking lands. friendliness and courtesy are characteristics of the french in general; and especially did our american contingent profit by those amiable traits that day on the rhône. save for a slight correspondence with a single member of the party, all aboard the boat were strangers to us; but in that kindly atmosphere, before we had time to fancy that we were outsiders, we found ourselves among friends. givors slipped by almost unnoticed in the thick of the farandole: a little town hung out to sun in long strips upon terraces rising from the water-side; the walls and tiled roofs making a general effect of warm greys and yellows dashed with the bright greens of shrubs and trees and gardens and the yellow green of vines. 'tis a town of some commercial pretensions: the gateway of a canal a dozen miles long leading up through the valley of the little river gier to iron-works and coke-works and glass-works tucked away in the hills. the canal was projected almost a century and a half ago as a connecting channel between the rhône and the loire, and so between the atlantic and the mediterrænean; wherefore the canal of the two oceans was, and i suppose continues to be, its high-sounding name. but the revolution came, and the digging never extended beyond that first dozen miles; and thus it is that the canal of the two oceans, as such, is a delusion, and that the golden future which once lay ahead of givors now lies a long way astern. yet the town has an easy and contented look: as though it had saved enough from the wreck of its magnificent destiny to leave it still comfortably well to do. before we fairly had passed it, and while the farandole was dying out slowly, there crashed down upon us a thunderous outburst of song: as though an exceptionally large-lunged seraph were afloat immediately above us in the open regions of the air. yet the song was of a gayer sort than seraphs, presumably, are wont to sing; and its method, distinctly, was that of the modern operatic stage. in point of fact, the singer was not a seraph, but an eminent professor in a great institution of learning and a literary authority of the first rank--whose critical summary of french literature is a standard, and whose studies of beaumarchais and le sage have been crowned by the academy. in sheer joyousness of spirit that eminent personage had betaken himself to the top of the port paddle-box, and thence was suffering his mountain-cleaving voice to go at large: so quickening was the company in which he found himself; so stimulating was the racy fervour of his own southern sun! iv from givors the river runs almost in a straight line to vienne. on both shores rise round-crested wooded hills--the foothills of the parallel ranges of mountains by which the wide valley is shut in. down this perspective, commandingly upon a height, is seen the city--misty and uncertain at first, but growing clearer and clearer, as the boat nears it, until the stone-work of man and the rock-work of nature become distinct and the picture is complete in all its parts: the time-browned mass of houses on the hill-top; the tower of philip the fair; over all, the huge façade of saint maurice--an ogival wonder that for centuries was the cathedral church of the primates of gaul. after marseille, vienne makes as handsome pretensions to age as are made by any town in france. the tradition of its founding lies hidden in the mists of heroic legend, and is the more momentous because it is so impressively vague. over its very name the etymologists wrangle with such violence that one is lost in amazement at their ill-tempered erudition; and over its structure the archæologists--though a bit more civil to each other--are almost as violently at cross-purposes. the best esteemed of those antiquary gentry--at least the one whom i esteem the most, because i like the fine boldness of his claim--is the dominican chronicler lavinius: who says flatly that vienne was founded thirteen centuries before the dawn of the christian era by a contemporary of moses, one king allobrox--a keltic sovereign descended from hercules in a right line! that is a good beginning; and it has the merit of embodying the one fact upon which all of the testy antiquaries are agreed: that vienne the strong, as folk called it in those days, was a flourishing town long before lyons was built or paris even thought of, and an age or two before the romans came over into gaul. when at last they did come, the romans transformed the town into a great city--the metropolis of the region lying between geneva and marseille; and so adorned it with noble buildings--temples, forum, circus, theatre, aqueducts, baths--and so enriched it with all manner of works of art, that it came to be known as vienne the beautiful throughout the civilized world. one temple, approximately perfect, has survived to us from that time; and one statue--the famous crouching venus: and it seems fair enough to accept vienne's beauty as proved by these. moreover, painting and music were cultivated there, together with the other arts: and from all that the historians have to tell us it would appear that the roman citizens of that city lived softly and well. in the dark ages of mediæval christianity most of the beauties of vienne vanished: being destroyed outright, or made over into buildings pertaining to the new faith and the new times. a pathetic little attempt, to be sure, was made by the viennese to hold fast to their comfortable paganism--when valentinian ii. was slain, and the old rites were restored, at the end of the fourth century; but it was a mere flash in the pan. the tendencies of the times were too strong to be resisted, and presently the new creed rode down the old. then it was that vienne was called vienne the holy--because, while losing nothing of her splendours temporal, she gained great store of splendours spiritual: whereof the culmination was that famous council, at the beginning of the fourteenth century, which crushed the templars and gave over their possessions to the crown. while the council deliberated, philip the fair "watched his case," as the lawyers would put it, from the village of sainte-colombe--across the river--where he was quartered with his court in the convent of the cordeliers; and in sainte-colombe, the next year, he built the tower that was to safeguard the royal domains against the aggressions of the archbishops: whose too-notorious holiness was making them overbold. and nowadays vienne is a mean little town; a withered kernel in the shell of its former grandeur; a mere sousprefecture; scarcely more than a manufacturing suburb of lyons. in the tower of philip the fair are a cheap restaurant, and a factory of macaroni, and a carpenter-shop. it is enough to make the spirits of the roman emperors indignant and the bones of the archbishops rattle dismally in their graves. no longer either strong, or beautiful, or holy, they call it vienne the patriotic, now. a city must be something, of course--and patriotism is an attribute that may be had for the claiming, in these days. but the saving grace of poetry, at least of the love of poetry, still abides in vienne: as was proved in a manner mightily tickling to our self-complacency as we swept past the town. taking the place of the stone bridge that was built in roman times--and so well built that it was kept in service almost down to our own day--a suspension bridge here spans the stream: and the poets and the poet-lovers of vienne were all a-swarm upon it, their heads and shoulders rising in an animated crenellation above its rail, in waiting for our galley to go by. while we still were a hundred yards away up stream there was a bustling movement among them; and then a bouquet, swinging at the end of a light line, was lowered away swiftly--the bright flowers flashing in the sunlight as they swayed and twirled. our brethren had calculated to a nicety where our boat would pass. right over the bow came the bouquet, and fairly into the eager hands stretched out for it--while a great cheer went up from the grateful poets in the boat that was echoed by the generous poets in the air. and the prettiest touch of all was the garland of verses that came to us with the flowers: to bid us welcome and to wish us god-speed on our way. truly, 'twas a delicately fine bit of poetic courtesy. no troubadour in the days of vienne the holy (the holiness was not of an austere variety) could have cast a more graceful tribute upon the passing galley of the debonaire queen jeanne. v before vienne the river cuts its way narrowly through the rock, and on each side the banks lift high above the stream. far above us was the town, rising in terraces to where was the citadel in the days of vienne the strong. we had a flying glimpse of it all as we flashed past, sped by the current and our great wheels; and then the valley widened again, and soft meadows bordered by poplars and gay with yellow flowers lay between us and the mountain ranges rising to right and left against the sky. here and there along the banks, where an outcrop of rock gave good holding-ground, were anchored floating grist-mills carrying huge water-wheels driven by the current--the wooden walls so browned with age that they seemed to have held over from the times when the archbishops, lording it in vienne, took tithes of millers' toll. we were come into a country of corn and wine. the mills certified to the corn; and as we swung around the curves of the river or shot down its reaches we met long lean steamboats fighting against the current under heavy ladings of big-bellied wine-casks--on their genial way northward to moisten thirsty paris throats. off on the right bank was the ancient manor of mont-lys, where begins the growth of the côtes-rôties: the famous red and white wines, called the _brune_ and the _blonde_, which have been dear to bottle-lovers for nearly two thousand years: from the time when the best of them (such as now go northward to paris) went southward to the greek merchants of marseille and so onward to rome to be sold for, literally, their weight in gold. and as to the melons and apricots which grow hereabouts, 'tis enough to say that lyons bereft of them would pine and die. the softly-swelling banks, capped by the long lines of yellow-green poplars, slipped by us at a gallop; while the mountains in the background, seen through the haze of flickering leaves, seemed to stand still. it was the most peaceful of landscapes: but there was endless fighting thereabouts in former times. in an early christian way the archbishops of vienne ravaged among the protestants; between whiles the robber-counts, without respect to creed, ravaged among the travelling public with a large-minded impartiality; and, down in the lowest rank of ravagers, the road-agents of the period stole all that their betters left for them to steal. as we passed the little town of condrieu--where a lonely enthusiast stood up on the bank and waved a flag at us--we saw overtopping it, on a fierce little craggy height, the ruined stronghold of its ancient lords. already, in the thirty miles or thereabouts that we had come since leaving lyons, we had passed a half-dozen or more warlike remnants of a like sort; and throughout the run to avignon they continued at about the rate of one in every five miles. singly, the histories of these castles are exceedingly interesting studies in mediæval barbarism; but collectively they become a wearisomely monotonous accumulation of horrors. yet it is unfair to blame the lords of the castles for their lack of originality in crime. with the few possible combinations at their command, the law of permutation literally compelled them to do the same things over and over again: maintaining or sustaining sieges ending in death with or without quarter for the besieged; leading forays for the sake of plunder, with or without the incentive of revenge; crushing peasant rebellions by hanging such few peasants as escaped the sword; and at all times robbing every unlucky merchant who chanced to come their way. it was a curious twist, that reversion to savagery, from the roman epoch: when the rhône valley was inhabited by a civilized people who encouraged commerce and who had a genuine love for the arts. and, after all--unless they had some sort of pooling arrangement--the robber lords in the mid-region of the rhône could not have found their business very profitable. merchants travelling south from lyons must have been poor booty by the time that they had passed vienne; and merchants travelling north from avignon, similarly, must have been well fleeced by the time that they were come to the pont-saint-esprit. indeed, the lords in the middle of the run doubtless were hard put to it at times to make any sort of a living at all. nor could the little local stealing that went on have helped them much--since, their respective castles being not more than five miles asunder, each of them in ordinary times was pulled up short in his ravaging at the end of two miles and a half. in brief, the business was overcrowded in all its branches, and badly managed beside. the more that i look into the history of that time the more am i convinced that mediævalism, either as an institution or as an investment, was not a success. condrieu is a dead little town now. as a seat of thieving industry its importance disappeared centuries ago; and its importance as a boating town--whence were recruited a large proportion of the rhône boatmen--vanished in the dawn of the age of steam. they were good fellows, those condrieu boatmen, renowned for their bravery and their honesty throughout the river's length. because of their leather-seated breeches they were nicknamed "leather-tails"; but their more sailor-like distinction was their tattooing: on the fore-arm a flaming heart pierced with an arrow, symbol of their fidelity and love; on the breast a cross and anchor, symbols of their faith and craft. from roman times downward until railways came, the heavy freighting of central france has been done by boat upon the rhône--in precisely the same fashion that flat-boat freighting was carried on upon the mississippi and its tributaries--and three or four of the river towns were peopled mainly by members of the boating guilds. trinquetaille, the western suburb of arles, still shows signs of the nautical tastes of its inhabitants in the queer sailor-like exterior and interior adornments of its houses: most noticeable of which is the setting up on a house-top of a good-sized boat full-rigged with mast and sails. the survivors of the boating period nowadays are few. five years ago i used to see whenever i crossed to trinquetaille a little group of old boatmen sitting at the end of the bridge on a long bench that was their especial property. they moved stiffly and slowly; their white heads were bowed breastward; their voices were cracked with age. yet they seemed to be cheery together, as they basked in the hot sunshine--that warmed only comfortably their lean old bodies--and talked of ancient victories over sand-bars and rapids: and the while looked southward over the broad rhône water toward the sea. no doubt they held in scorn their few successors--one where of old were a hundred--who navigate the rhône of to-day, clipped of its perils by dykes and beacons, in boats driven by steam. yet these modern mariners, charged with the care of the great steamboats two and three hundred feet long, are more heroic characters than were the greatest of the old-time navigators. the finest sight that i saw in all that day aboard the _gladiateur_ was our pilot at his post as he swung us around certain of the more dangerous of the curves: where rocks or sand-bars narrowed the channel closely and where a fall in the river-bed more than usually abrupt made the current fiercely strong. in such perilous passes he had behind him in a row at the long tiller--these boats are not steered by a wheel forward, but by a tiller at the stern--two, three, and at one turn four men. he himself, at the extreme end of the tiller, stood firmly posed and a little leaning forward, his body rigid, his face set in resolute lines, his eyes fixedly bent upon the course ahead; behind him the others, elately poised in readiness to swing their whole weight with his on the instant that his tense energy in repose flashed into energy in action as the critical turn was made--the whole group, raised above us on the high quarter-deck, in relief against the deep blue sky. amy, or another of the southern sculptors, will be moved some day, i hope, to seize upon that thrilling group and to fasten it forever in enduring bronze. vi as we approached the bridge of serrières it was evident that another demonstration in our honour was imminent. on the bridge a small but energetic crowd was assembled, and we could see a bouquet pendent from a cord descending toward the point where our boat was expected to pass. the projectors of that floral tribute cheered us finely as we came dashing toward them; and up in our bows was great excitement--which suddenly was intensified into anguish as we perceived that our admirers had made a miscalculation: a fateful fact that was anticipated and realized almost in the same instant--as we saw the bouquet level with our deck but forty feet away a-beam! yet good luck saved the day to us. as we shot the bridge we also rounded a curve, and a moment after the bow of the long _gladiateur_ had gone wide of the bouquet the stern had swung around beneath it and it was brought safe aboard. in the same breath we had passed under and beyond the bridge and were sending up stream to our benefactors our cheers of thanks. when the discovery was made that a bottle was enshrined among the flowers, and that upon the bottle was an inscription--necessarily a sonnet, as we impulsively decided--our feeling toward serrières was of the warmest. without question, those generous creatures had sent us of their best, and with a posy of verse straight from their honest hearts. only poets ministering to poets could have conceived so pretty a scheme. but the eager group that surrounded the majoral who held the bottle flew asunder in wrath as he read out loudly, in place of the expected sonnet, these words: "quinine prepared by cuminat at serrières"! and then our feeling toward serrières grew much less warm. yet i am not sure that cuminat was moved only by the sordid wish to advertise at our expense his preparation of quinine. i am disposed to credit him in part with a helpful desire to check the fever rising in the blood of our boat-load of southerners who each moment--as they slid down that hill-side of a river--were taking deeper and stronger drafts of the heady sunshine of their own southern sun. on the other hand, i am forced to admit that had his motive been pure benevolence his offering would not have been so pitiably scant. but the people of tournon--to which generous town, and to the breakfast provided by its cordial inhabitants, we came an hour before noon--entreated us with so prodigal a liberality in the matter of bottles that the questionable conduct of the serrières apothecary quickly faded from our minds. in ancient times tournon had a black reputation for its evil-dealing with chance wayfarers along the rhône, and one's blood runs cold with mere thought of the horrors which went on there in the times of the religious wars. but very likely because of an honest desire to live down its own bad record--which i mention here rather to its present credit than to its past shame--it now seems determined to balance matters by manifesting toward passing travellers the most obliging courtesy in the world. certainly, we poets--coming thither famished, and going thence full fed and sleekly satisfied--had cause that day to bless its name. as we came galloping around a curve in the river--i cannot insist too strongly upon the dashing impetuosity that was the constant buoyant undertone of our voyage--this tournon the blessed shot up before us perked out upon a bold little hill thrust forward into the stream: a crowd of heavily-built houses rising around a church or two and a personable campanile, with here and there bits of crenellated ramparts, and higher still the tough remnant of a castle still fit to do service in the wars. indeed, it all was so good in colour--with its blendings of green and grey shot with warm yellow tones; and its composition was so excellent--with its sweep upward from the river to the castle battlements--that to my american fancy (used rather to mediæval semblances than to mediæval realities) it seemed to be temporarily escaped from an exceptionally well-set operatic stage. [illustration: the landing-place at tournon] all tournon was down at the water-side to meet us, and on the landing-stage was the very mayor: a lean and tri-coloured man who took off his hat comprehensively to our whole company in a magnificent bow. notables were with him--the sous-prefect, the mayor of tain, the adjoint, leading citizens--who also bowed to us; but not with a bow like his! laurel garlands decorated the landing-stage; more laurel garlands and the national colours made gay the roadway leading up the bank; and over the roadway was a laurel-wreathed and tri-coloured triumphal arch--all as suitable to welcoming poets and patriots, such as we were, as suitable could be. as the _gladiateur_ drew in to the bank there was a noble banging of _boîtes_--which ancient substitute for cannon in joy-firing still are esteemed warmly in rural france--and before the mayor spoke ever a word to us the band bounded gallantly into the thick of the "marseillaise." with the _boîte_ banging fitfully, with the band in advance playing "la coupe," the tri-coloured mayor led off with the most distinguished lady of our company upon his arm: and away we all went, under the triumphal arch and up the garlanded roadway two by two--as though tournon were a rhône-side ararat and we were the animals coming out of the ark. our entry was a veritable triumph; and we endeavoured (i think successfully) to live up to it: walking stately through the narrow streets, made narrower by the close-packed crowds pressing to see so rare a poetic spectacle; through the cool long corridors of the lycée; and so out upon a prettily dignified little park--where, at a triad of tables set within a garlanded enclosure beneath century-old plane-trees, our breakfast was served to us to the accompaniment of bangs from the _boîte_ and musical remarks from the band. and all tournon, the while, stood above us on a terrace and sympathetically looked on. in its adaptation to the needs of travelling poets the breakfast was a master-stroke. it was simple, substantial, delicious; and in its accompanying prodigal outpouring of red and white hermitage, cornas, and saint-péray, the contrast with the bottle-niggardliness of serrières was bravely marked. the hermitage, from the hill-sides directly across the river from tournon, around the town of tain, scarcely lives up to its heroic tradition just now--the phylloxera having destroyed the old vines, planted by the hermit of blessed memory, and the new vines having in them still the intemperate strength of youth. yet is it a sound rich wine, in a fair way to catch up again with its ancient fame. while we feasted, the _boîte_ and the band took turns in exploding with violence; and when, with the filet, the band struck up "la coupe" away we all went with it in a chorus that did not die out entirely until well along in the galantine. the toasts came in with the ices, and on the basis of the regional champagne, saint-péray--sweet, but of good flavour--that cracked its corks out with the irregular volleyings of a line of skirmishers firing in a fog. the tri-coloured mayor on behalf of tournon, and paul arène and delightful sextius michel on behalf of the félibrige and the cigaliers, and m. maurice faure, the deputy, on behalf of the nation at large, exchanged handsome compliments in the most pleasing way; and the toasts which they gave, and the toasts which other people gave, were emphasized by a rhythmic clapping of hands in unison by the entire company--in accordance with the custom that obtains always at the feasts of the félibres. but that was no time nor place for extended speech-making. all in a whiff our feast ended; and in another whiff we were up and off--whisking through the lycée corridors and the crowded streets and under the triumphal arch and so back on board the _gladiateur_. the mayor, always heroically ablaze with his patriotic scarf of office, stood on the landing-stage--like a courteous noah in morning dress seeing the animals safely up the ark gang-plank--and made to each couple of us one of his stately bows; the _boîte_ fired a final salvo of one round; the band saluted us with a final outburst of the "marseillaise"; everybody, ashore and afloat, cheered--and then the big wheels started, the current caught us and wrenched us apart from all that friendliness, and away we dashed down stream. vii long before we came abreast of it by the windings of the river we saw high up against the sky-line, a clear three hundred feet above the water, all that is left of the stronghold of crussol--still called by the rhône boatmen "the horns of crussol," although the two towers no longer shoot out horn-like from the mountain-top with a walled war-town clinging about their flanks. one géraud bartet, a cadet of the great house of crussol--of which the representative nowadays is the duc d'uzès--built this eagle's nest in the year ; but it did not become a place of importance until more than four hundred years later, in the time of the religious wars. on the issue of faiths the crussols divided. the head of the house was for the pope and the king; the two cadets were for god and the reform. then it was that the castle (according to an over-sanguine chronicler of the period) was "transformed into an unconquerable stronghold"; and thereafter--always for the advancement of christianity of one sort or another--a liberal amount of killing went on beneath its walls. in the end, disregarding the fact that it was unconquerable, the castle was captured by the baron des adrets--who happened at the moment to be on the protestant side--and in the interest of sound doctrine all of its defenders were put to the sword. tradition declares that "the streams of blood filled one of the cisterns, in which this terrible huguenot had his own children bathed 'in order,' as he said, 'to give them strength and force and, above all, hatred of catholicism.'" and then "the castle was demolished from its lowest to its highest stone." this final statement is a little too sweeping, yet essentially it is true. all that now remains of crussol is a single broken tower, to which some minor ruins cling; and a little lower are the ruins of the town--whence the encircling ramparts have been outcast and lie in scattered fragments down the mountain-side to the border of the rhône. it was on this very mountain--a couple of thousand years or so earlier in the world's history--that a much pleasanter personage than a battling baron had his home: a good-natured giant of easy morals who was the traditional founder of valence. being desirous of founding a town somewhere, and willing--in accordance with the custom of his time--to leave the selection of a site a little to chance, he hurled a javelin from his mountain-top with the cry, "va lance!": and so gave valence its name and its beginning, on the eastern bank of the river two miles away, at the spot where his javelin fell. at a much later period the romans adopted and enlarged the giant's foundation; but nearly every trace of their occupation has disappeared. indeed, even the ramparts, built only a few hundred years ago by francis i., have utterly vanished; and the tendency of the town has been so decidedly toward pulling down and building up again that it now wears quite a modern and jauntily youthful air. valence was our next stopping-place, and we had a world of work to do there during the hour or so that we remained ashore. very properly believing that we, being poets, could dedicate their local monuments for them far better than they could do such work for themselves, the excellent people of this town had accumulated a variety of monuments in expectation of our coming; and all of these it was our pleasant duty to start upon their immortal way. our reception was nothing short of magnificent. on the suspension bridge which here spans the river half the town was assembled watching for us; and the other half was packed in a solid mass on the bank above the point where our landing was made. the landing-stage was a glorious blaze of tri-colour; and there the mayor, also gloriously tri-coloured, stood waiting for us in the midst of a guard of honour of four firemen whose brazen helmets shone resplendent in the rays of the scorching sun. a little in the background was the inevitable band; that broke with a crash, at the moment of our landing, into the inevitable "marseillaise." and then away we all marched for half a mile, up a wide and dusty and desperately hot street, into the heart of the town. the detachment of welcoming townsfolk from the bank closed in around us; and around them, presently, closed in the detachment of welcoming townsfolk from the bridge. we poets (i insist upon being known by the company i was keeping) were deep in the centre of the press. the heat was prodigious. the dust was stifling. but, upheld by a realizing sense of the importance and honour of the duties confided to us, we never wavered in our march. our first halt was before a dignified house on which was a flag-surrounded tablet reading: "dans cette maison est né général championnet. l'an mdcclxii." m. faure and sextius michel made admirable speeches. the band played the "marseillaise." we cheered and cheered. but what in the world we poets had to do with this military person--who served under the lilies at the siege of gibraltar that ended so badly in the year , and who did a great deal of very pretty fighting later under the tri-colour--i am sure i do not know! then on we went, to the quick tap of the drums, the mayor and the glittering firemen preceding us, to the laying of a corner-stone that really was in our line: that of a monument to the memory of the dramatist Émile augier. here, naturally, m. jules claretie came to the fore. in the parlance of the academy, augier was "his dead man"; and not often does it happen that a finer, a more discriminating, eulogy is pronounced in the academy by the successor to a vacant chair than was pronounced that hot day in valence upon Émile augier by the director of the comédie française. when it was ended, there was added to the contents of the leaden casket a final paper bearing the autographs of the notables of our company; and then the cap-stone, swinging from tackles, was lowered away. we had the same ceremony over again, ten minutes later, when we laid the corner-stone of the monument to the comte de montalivet: who was an eminent citizen and mayor of valence, and later was a minister under the first napoleon--whom he had met at madame colombier's, likely enough, in the days when the young artillery officer was doing fitful garrison-duty in that little town. again it seemed to me that we poets were not necessarily very closely associated with the matter in hand; but we cheered at the proper places, and made appropriate and well-turned speeches, and contributed a valuable collection of autographs to the lead box in the corner-stone: and did it all with the easily off-hand air of thorough poets of the world. in the matter of the autographs there was near to being a catastrophe. everything was going at a quick-step--our time being so short--and in the hurry of it all the lead box was closed and the cap-stone was lowered down upon it while yet the autographs remained outside! it was by the merest chance, i fancy, in that bustling confusion, that the mistake happened to be noticed; and i cannot but think--the autographs, with only a few exceptions, being quite illegible--that no great harm would have come had it passed unobserved. however, the omission being discovered, common courtesy to the autographists required that the cap-stone should be raised again and the much-signed paper put where it belonged. having thus made what i believe to be a dedicatory record by dedicating three monuments, out of a possible four, in considerably less than an hour, we were cantered away to the hôtel de ville to be refreshed and complimented with a "vin d'honneur." that ceremony came off in the council chamber--a large, stately room--and was impressive. m. le maire was a tall man, with a cherubic face made broader by wing-like little whiskers. he wore a white cravat, a long frock-coat, appositely black trousers, and a far-reaching white waistcoat over which wandered tranquilly his official tri-coloured scarf. the speech which he addressed to us was of the most flattering. he told us plainly that we were an extraordinarily distinguished company; that our coming to valence was an event to be remembered long and honourably in the history of the town; that he, personally and officially, was grateful to us; and that, personally and officially, he would have the pleasure of drinking to our very good health. and then (most appropriately by the brass-helmeted firemen) well-warmed champagne was served; and in that cordial beverage, after m. Édouard lockroy had made answer for us, we pledged each other with an excellent good will. i am sorry to say that we "scamped" our last monument. to be sure, it was merely a tablet in a house-front setting forth the fact that Émile augier had been born there; and already augier had had one of the best speeches of the day. but that was no excuse for us. actually, we scarcely waited to see the veil of pink paper torn away by a man on a step-ladder before we broke for the boat--and not a speech of any sort was made! yet they bore us no malice, those brave valençois. all the way down to the river, under the blaze of the sun, they crowded closely around us--with a well-meant but misapplied friendliness--and breathed what little air was stirring thrice over before it had a chance to get to our lungs. they covered again in a black swarm the bank and the bridge in our honour. their band, through that last twenty minutes, blared steadfastly the "marseillaise." from his post upon the landing-stage the cherubic mayor beamed to us across his nobly tri-coloured stomach a series of parting smiles. the brass-helmeted firemen surrounded him--a little unsteadily, i fancied--smiling too. and as we slipped away from them all, into the rush of the river, they sent after us volley upon volley of cheers. our breasts thrilled and expanded--it is not always that we poets thus are mounted upon high horses in the sight of all the world--and we cheered back to those discriminating and warm-hearted towns-folk until we fairly were under way down-stream. to the very last the cherubic mayor, his hat raised, regarded us smilingly. to the very last--rivalling the golden glory of the helmet of mambrino--the slightly-wavering head-gear of his attendant firemen shot after us golden gleams. viii we drew away into calmer latitudes after leaving that whirlwind of a town. for the time being, our duties as public poets were ended; and there was a sense of restful comfort in knowing that for the moment we were rid of our fame and celebrity, and were free--as the lightest hearted of simple travellers--to enjoy the beauties of the river as it carried us, always at a full gallop, downward toward the sea. in that tranquil spirit we came, presently, to the leaning tour-maudite: and found farther restfulness, after our own varied and too-energetic doings, in looking upon a quiet ruin that had remained soberly in the same place, and under the same sedative curse, for more than three hundred years. it is an architectural curiosity, this curséd tower--almost as far out from the perpendicular as is its better-known rival of pisa; but more impressive in its unnatural crookedness because it stands upon an isolated crag which drops below it sheer to the river in a vast precipice. anciently, before it went wrong and its curse came upon it, the tower was the keep of the benedictine nunnery of soyons. most ungallantly, in the year , the huguenots captured the abbey by assault; and thereupon the abbess, louise d'amauze (poor frightened soul!) hurriedly embraced the reformed religion--in dread lest, without that concession to the prejudices of the conquerors, still worse might come. several of her nuns followed her hastily heterodox example; but the mass of them stood stoutly by their faith, and ended by making off with it intact to valence. i admit that an appearance of improbability is cast upon this tradition by the unhindered departure from the abbey of the stiff-necked nuns: who thus manifested an open scorn equally of the victorious huguenots and of the reformed faith. but, on the other hand, there are the ruins of the abbey to prove conclusively that it truly was conquered; and there, slanting with a conspicuously unholy slant high up above the ruins, bearing steadfast witness to the wrath of heaven against that heretical abbess and her heretical followers, is the curséd tower! while the abbess of soyons, being still untried by the stress of battle, went sinless upon her still orthodox way, there lived just across the river on the manor of l'Étoile a sinner of a gayer sort--diane de poitiers. the castle of the star dates from the fifteenth century; when louis xi. dwelt there as governor of dauphiny and was given lessons in how to be a king. diane the beautiful--"the most beautiful," as francis i. gallantly called her--transformed the fortress into a bower, and gave to it (or accepted for it) the appropriately airy name of the château de papillon. there she lived long after her butterfly days were over; and in a way--although the castle of the butterfly is a silk-factory now--she lives there still: just as another light lady beautiful, queen jeanne of naples, lives on in provence. to this day her legend is vital in the country-side; and the old people still talk about her as though she were alive among them; and call her always not by her formal title of the duchesse de valentinois, but by her love title of "la belle dame de l'Étoile." of this joyous person's family there is found a ghastly memento at the little town of lène--a dozen miles down the river, beyond the great iron-works of le pouzin. it is the tour de la lépreuse: wherein a leper lady of the house of poitiers was shut up for many years in awful solitude--until at last god in his goodness permitted her to die. i suppose that this story would have pointed something of a moral--instead of presenting only another case of a good moral gone wrong--had diane herself been that prisoner of loathsome death in life. but aboard the _gladiateur_ our disposition was to take the world easily and as we found it--since we found it so well disposed toward us--and not to bother our heads a bit about how moral lessons came off. with cities effervescing in our honour, with mayors attendant upon us hat in hand, with brazen-helmeted firemen playing champagne upon us to stimulate our poetic fires, with _boîtes_ and bands exploding in our praise--and all under that soul-expanding sun of the midi--'tis no wonder that we wore our own bays jauntily and nodded to each other as though to say: "ah, you see now what it is to be a poet in these latter days!" and we were graciously pleased to accept as a part of the tribute that all the world just then was rendering to us the panorama of mountains and towns and castles that continuously opened before us for the delectation of our souls. off to the right, hidden behind the factory-smoke of la voulte, was the sometime home of bernard de ventadour, a troubadour whom the world still loves to honour--quite one of ourselves; off to the left, commanding the valley of the drôme, were livron and loriol, tough little huguenot nuts cracked all to pieces (as their fallen ramparts showed) in the religious wars; and a little lower down we came to cruas: a famous fortified abbey, surmounted by a superb donjon and set in the midst of a triple-walled town, whereof the byzantine-romanesque church is one of the marvels of southern france. cruas was founded more than a thousand years ago, in the time of charlemagne, by the pious hermengarde, wife of count eribert de vivarais; being a thank-offering to heaven erected on the very spot where that estimable woman and her husband were set upon in the forest by a she-wolf of monstrous size. but the fortified abbey was a later growth; and was not completed, probably, until the sixteenth century. it was toward the end of that century, certainly, that the huguenots attacked it--and were beaten off finally by abbot Étienne déodel and his monks, who clapped on armour over their habits and did some very sprightly fighting on its walls. below cruas, around the bend in the river, rochemaure the black came into sight: a withered stronghold topping an isolated rock of black basalt six hundred feet above the stream. it is a grewsome place: the ruin of a black nightmare of a basalt-built castle, having below and around it a little black nightmare of a basalt-built town--whereof the desperately steep and crooked streets are paved with black basalt, and are so narrowed by over-hanging houses as to show above them only the merest strip of sky. it is a town to which, by preference, one would go to commit a murder; but 'tis said that its inhabitants are kindly disposed. only a step beyond it lies le teil: a briskly busy little place tucked in at the foot of a lime-stone cliff--town and cliff and the inevitable castle on the cliff-top all shrouded in a murky white cloud, half dust, half vapour, rising from the great buildings in which a famous hydraulic cement is made. not a desirable abiding place, seemingly; but in cheerful contrast with its lowering neighbour up the stream. and then, passing beyond a maze of islands--amidst which the river wandered so tortuously that our pilot had behind him a strong tiller-crew in order to carry us through safely--we came to the noble town of viviers. from afar we saw its tall bell-tower, its beautiful cathedral, its episcopal palace; and as we drew nearer the whole environment of ancient houses and fortifications spread out around those governing points in a great amphitheatre. but what held us most was the gay dash of tri-colour on its bridge, and the crowd there evidently waiting for our coming to manifest toward us their good will. they cheered us and waved their hats and handkerchiefs at us, those poet-lovers, as we neared them; and as we passed beneath the bridge a huge wreath of laurel was swung downward to our deck, and a shower of laurel branches fluttered down upon us through the sunlit air. in all the fourteen centuries since viviers was founded i am confident that nothing more gracious than this tribute to passing poetry is recorded in the history of the town. naturally, being capable of such an act of nicely discriminating courtesy, viviers has sound traditions of learning and of gentle blood. in its day it was a great episcopal city: whose bishops maintained an army, struck money, counted princes among their vassals, in set terms defied the power of the king of france--and recognized not the existence of any temporal sovereign until the third conrad of germany enlarged their knowledge of political geography by taking their city by storm. yet while finely lording it over outsiders, the bishops were brought curiously to their bearings within their own walls. each of them, in turn, on his way to his installation, found closed against him, as he descended from his mule before it, the door of the cathedral; and the door was not opened until he had sworn there publicly that he would maintain inviolate as he found them the rights and privileges of the chapter and of the town. moreover, once in each year the men and women of rank of viviers asserted their right to a part enjoyment of the ecclesiastical benefices by putting on copes and mitres and occupying with the canons the cathedral stalls. the line of one hundred and thirty bishops who in succession reigned here ended--a century back, in the time of the revolution--in a veritable lurid flame; yet with, i think, a touch of agonized human nature too. the church historian can see only the diabolical side of the situation; and in a horror-struck way tells how that last bishop, "being overcome by the devil, abjured the episcopacy; with his own hands destroyed the insignia of his sacred office; and thereafter gave himself up to a blasphemous attack upon the holy religion of which he had been for a long while one of the most worthy ministers." it certainly is true that the devil had things largely his own way about that time here in france; but it does not necessarily follow that in this particular matter the devil directly had a hand. to my mind a simpler and more natural explanation presents itself: that the iconoclastic bishop was a weak brother who had suffered himself to be forced into a calling for which he had no vocation, and into an apparent championship of a faith with which his inmost convictions were at war; that for years and years the struggle between the inward man and the outward bishop had gone on unceasingly and hopelessly, until--as well enough might happen to one strong enough to resent yet not strong enough to overcome restraint--the galling irksomeness of such a double life had brought madness near; and that madness did actually come when the chains of a life and of a faith alike intolerable suddenly were fused in the fierce heat of the revolution and fell away. ix below viviers the rhône breaks out from its broad upper valley into its broader lower valley through the defile of donzère. here the foothills of the alps and the foothills of the cévennes come together, and behind this natural dam there must have been anciently a great lake which extended to the northward of where now is valence. the defile is a veritable cañon that would be quite in place in the sierra madre. on each side of the sharply-narrowed river the walls of rock rise sheer to a height of two hundred feet. the rush of the water is tumultuous. in mid-stream, surrounded by eddies and whirling waves, is the roche-des-anglais--against which the boat of a luckless party of english travellers struck and was shattered a hundred years ago. indeed, so dangerous was this passage held to be of old--when faith was stronger and boats were weaker than in our day of skepticism and compound-engines--that it was customary to tie-up at the head of the defile and pray for grace to come through it safely; and sincerely faithful travellers tied-up again when the passage was ended to offer a service of grateful praise. but nowadays they clap five men on the tiller and put on more steam--and the practical result is the same. the cliffs bordering the cañon, being of a crumbling nature, are known as the maraniousques; but usually are called by the rhône boatmen the monkey rocks--because of the monkeys who dwelt in them in legendary times and stoned from their heights the passing travellers. it was a long while ago that the monkeys were in possession--in the time immediately succeeding the deluge. during the subsidence of the waters it seems that the ark made fast there for the night, just before laying a course for ararat; and the monkey and his wife--desperately bored by their long cooping-up among so many uncongenial animals--took advantage of their opportunity to pry a couple of tiles off the roof and get away. the tradition hints that noah had been drinking; at any rate, their absence was not noticed, and the ark went on without them the next day. by the time that the deluge fairly was ended, and the rhône reopened to normal navigation, a large monkey family was established on the maraniousques; and the monkeys thenceforward illogically revenged themselves upon noah's descendants by stoning everybody who came along. later, the ill-tempered monkeys were succeeded by more ill-tempered men. in the fighting times the defile of donzère was a famous place in which to bring armies to a stand. fortifications upon the cliffs entirely commanded the river; and at the lower end of the defile the castle and the walled town of donzère, capping a defiant little hill-top, commanded both the river and the plain. even the most fire-eating of captains were apt to stop and think a little before venturing into the defile in those days. all of those perils are ended now. the dangers of the river are so shorn by steam that the shooting of the cañon rapids yields only a pleasurable excitement, that is increased by the extraordinary wild beauty of that savage bit of nature in the midst of a long-tamed land; and the ramparts and the castle of donzère, having become invitingly picturesque ruins, are as placable remnants of belligerency as are to be found anywhere in the world. indeed, as we saw them--with the afternoon sunlight slanting down in a way to bring out delectably the warm greys and yellows of the stone-work and to produce the most entrancing effects of light-and-shade--it was not easy to believe that people had been killing each other all over them not so very long ago. [illustration: the defile of donzÈre] having escaped from the defile of donzère, the river wanders away restfully into a wilderness of islands--a maze so unexplored and so unexplorable that otters still make their home in it, and through the thick foliage poke out their snub noses at passing boatmen now and then. thence onward for a long way islands are plentiful--past pierrelatte, and bourg-saint-andéol, (a very ancient and highly roman flavoured town), and the confluence of the rhône and the ardèche--to the still larger archipelago across which the bridge building brothers, with god himself helping them, built the pont-saint-esprit. modern engineers--possibly exalting their own craft at the expense of that of the architects--declare that this bridge was the greatest piece of structural work of the middle ages; certainly it was the greatest work of the frères pontifes: that most practical of brotherhoods which, curiously anticipating one phase of modern doctrine, paid less attention to faith than to works and gave itself simply to ministering to the material welfare of mankind. in the making of it they spent near half a century. from the year steadily onward until the year the brothers labored: and then the bridge was finished--a half-mile miracle in stone. in view of the extraordinary difficulties which the engineer in charge of the work overcame--founding piers in bad holding-ground and in the thick of that tremendous current, with the work broken off short by the frequent floods and during the long season of high water in the spring--it is not surprising that the miracle theory was adopted to explain his eventual victory. nor is it surprising that the popular conviction presently began to sustain itself by crystalizing into a definite legend--based upon the recorded fact that the brothers worked under the vocation of the holy spirit--to the effect that the spirit of god, taking human form, was the designer of the fabric and the actual director under whose guidance the work went on. and so the genesis of the bridge was accounted for satisfactorily; and so it came by its holy name. personally, i like miracles; and this miracle is all the more patent, i think, now that the bridge has been in commission for almost six hundred years and still is entirely serviceable. yet while its piers and arches, its essential parts, remain nearly as the brothers built them, the bridge has undergone such modifications in the course of the past century--in order to fit it to the needs of modern traffic--that its picturesqueness has been destroyed. the chapel of st. nicholas upon one of its piers, and the tower at its centre, were razed about the end of the last century; a little later the fortified approaches were removed; in the year , to provide for the increasing river navigation, the first two arches from the right bank were replaced by a single iron arch of two hundred feet span over the main channel; and in the year the entire superstructure on the north side, with a part of the superstructure on the south side, was torn down--and in place of the old narrow roadway, with turn-outs on each pier, there was built a roadway uniformly twenty-two feet wide. in a sentimental way, of course, these radical changes are to be regretted; but i am sure that the good brothers, could they have been consulted in the premises, would have been the first to sanction them. for they were not sentimentalists, the brothers; they were practical to the last degree. what they wanted was that their bridge, living up to their own concept of duty, should do the greatest amount of good to the greatest number of men. almost as we came out from beneath that monument to practical christianity, we saw over on the left bank two monuments to the theoretical christianity of three hundred years ago: the grisly ruins of mornas and montdragon--each on a hill dark green with a thick growth of _chêne vert_, and each having about it (not wholly because of its dark setting, i fancied) a darkly sinister air. in truth, the story of mornas is sombre enough to blacken not merely a brace of hill-tops but a whole neighbourhood. in the early summer of the year , a day or two before the fête-dieu, the papists surprised and seized the town and castle and put the entire huguenot garrison to the sword. then, as now, it was the custom in honour of the fête-dieu to adorn the house-fronts with garlands and draperies; and by way of variant upon this pretty custom "certain of the conquerors, more fanatical than the rest, flayed the dead huguenots and draped their houses bravely with protestant skins." thereupon the baron des adrets, the huguenot commander in that region, sent one of his lieutenants, dupuy-montbrun, to avenge that deviltry. at the end of a three-days' siege mornas was conquered again, and then came the vengeance: "for which the castle of mornas, whereof the battlements overhung a precipice falling sheer two hundred feet to broken rocks below, offered great advantages." in a grave and orderly fashion, the survivors of the conquered garrison were assembled in the castle court-yard; were taken in orderly squads of ten up to the battlements; and thence were thrust over into that awful depth. and so the account was squared. it is instructive to note that des adrets, who ordered the vengeance on mornas, a little later abjured the reformed religion and became a papist; and that dupuy-montbrun, who carried out his orders and who succeeded him upon his recantation in the command of the protestant army, but a little while before had renounced papacy to become a huguenot. so the leaders, the worst of them, shifted from side to side as they happened to be swayed by pay or policy; and to such creatures of no real faith were due the direst of the atrocities of those hideous times. but the huguenots of the rank and file were of another sort. their singleness and sincerity in their fight for their faith were beyond question. they died for it willingly. failing the happiness of death, yet being conquered, they still held fast to it. in the end, rather than relinquish it, they unhesitatingly elected--at a stroke giving up country, rank, fortune--to be outcast from france. for me the history of those desperate wars has a very vital interest: for my own ancestors took the share in them that was becoming to faithful gentlemen vowed to the reform, and i owe my american birthright to the honourable fact that they fought on the losing side. as i myself am endowed with a fair allowance of stubbornness, and with a strong distaste to taking my opinions at second hand, i certainly should have been with my kinsfolk in that fight had i lived in their day; and since my destiny was theirs to determine i am strongly grateful to them for having shaped it so well. x but i was glad when mornas, vivid with such bitter memories, dropped out of sight astern. sleeping dogs of so evil a sort very well may lie; though it is difficult not to waken a few of them when they lie so thickly as here in the rhône valley, where almost every town and castle has a chapter of nightmare horrors all its own. even châteauneuf-du-pape--which we saw a half hour later off to the eastward, rising from a little hill-top and thence overlooking the wide vineyard-covered valley--came to its present ruin at the hands of des adrets; who, having captured and fired it, left standing only its tall square tower and some fragments of its walls. this was an unfairly lurid ending for a castle which actually came into existence for gentle purposes and was not steeped to its very battlements in crime; for châteauneuf was built purely as a pleasure-place, to which the popes--when weary with ruling the world and bored by their strait-laced duties as saint peter's earthly representatives--might come from avignon with a few choice kindred spirits and refreshingly kick up their heels. as even in avignon, in those days, the popes and cardinals did not keep their heels any too fast to the ground, it is an inferential certainty that the kicking up at châteauneuf must have been rather prodigiously high; but the people of the middle ages were too stout of stomach to be easily scandalized, and the pope's responsibilities in the premises were all the lighter because the doctrine of his personal infallibility had not then been formulated officially. and so things went along comfortably in a cheerfully reprehensible way. it was in those easy-going days that the vineyards were planted, on the slopes below the castle, which were destined to make the name of châteauneuf-du-pape famous the toping world over long after the new castle should be an old ruin and the avignon popes a legend of the past. only within the present generation did those precious vines perish, when the phylloxera began among them its deadly work in france; and even yet may be found, tucked away here and there in the favoured cellars of provence and languedoc, a few dust-covered bottles of their rich vintage: which has for its distinguishing taste a sublimated spiciness due to the alternate dalliance of the bees with the grape-blossoms and with the blossoms of the wild thyme. it is a wine of poets, this bee-kissed châteauneuf, and its noblest association is not with the popes who gave their name to it but with the seven poets--mistral, roumanille, aubanel, matthieu, brunet, giéra, tavan--whose chosen drink it was in those glorious days when they all were young together and were founding the félibrige: the society that was to restore the golden age of the troubadours and, incidentally, to decentralize france. one of the sweetest and gentlest of the seven, anselme matthieu, was born here at châteauneuf; and here, with a tender love-song upon his lips, only the other day he died. the vineyards have been replanted, and in the fulness of time may come to their glory again; but the greater glories of châteauneuf--which belonged to it once because of its popes, and again because of its sweet-souled poet--must be only memories forevermore. [illustration: the roumanille monument] the castles over on the right bank, montfaucon and roquemaure, are of the normal painful sort again. roquemaure is a crooked, narrow, up-and-down old dirty town, where old customs and old costumes and old forms of speech still live on; and, also, its people have a very pretty taste in the twisting and perverting of historic fact into picturesque tradition--as is shown by the way in which they have rearranged the unpleasant details of the death of pope clement v. into a bit of melodramatic moral decoration for their own town. their ingeniously compiled legend runs in this wise: clement's death in the castle of roquemaure occurred while he was on his way homeward from the council of vienne; where--keeping with the king the bargain which had won for him the papal throne--he had abolished the order of the templars and had condemned their grand master, jacques de molay, to be burned alive. when that sentence was passed, the grand master, in turn, had passed sentence of death upon the pope: declaring that within forty days they should appear together, in the spirit, to try again that cause misjudged on earth before the throne of god. and the forty days were near ended when pope clement came to roquemaure--with the death-grip already so strong upon him that even the little farther journey to avignon was impossible, and he could but lay him down there and die. while yet the breath scarce was out of his body, his servants fell to fighting over his belongings with a brutal fierceness: in the midst of which fray a lighted torch fell among and fired the hangings of the bed whereon lay the dead pope--and before any of the pillagers would give the rest an advantage by stopping in their foul work to extinguish the flames his body was half-consumed. and so was clement burned in death even as the grand master had been burned in life; and so was executed upon him the grand master's summons to appear before the judgment seat on high! it is interesting to note that this tradition does very little violence to the individual facts of the case, and yet rearranges them in such a fashion that they are at sixes and sevens with the truth as a whole. when, in my lighter youth, i entered upon what i fancied was antiquarian research i was hot for the alluring theory that oral tradition is a surer preserver of historic fact than is written record; and as i was not concerned with antiquities of a sort upon which my pretty borrowed theory could be tested i got along with it very well. but i am glad now to cite this capital instance in controversion of my youthful second-hand belief--because it entirely accords with my more mature conviction that oral tradition, save as a tenacious preserver of place-names, is not to be trusted at all. and as unsupported written record rarely is to be trusted either, it would seem that a certain amount of reason was at the root of king david's hasty generalization as to the untruthfulness of mankind. the day was nearly ended as we passed that town with a stolen moral history: and so swept onward, in and out among the islands, toward avignon. already the sun had fallen below the crest of the cévennes; leaving behind him in the sky a liquid glory, and still sending far above us long level beams which gilded radiantly--far off to the eastward--the heights of mont-ventour. but we, deep in the deep valley, threaded our swift way among the islands in a soft twilight which gently ebbed to night. and then, as the dusk deepened to the westward, there came slowly into the eastern heavens a pale lustre that grew brighter and yet brighter until, all in a moment, up over the alpilles flashed the full moon--and there before us, almost above us, the rocher-des-doms and the pope's palace and the ramparts of avignon stood out blackly against the moon-bright sky. so sudden was this ending to our journey that there was a wonder among us that the end had come! * * * * * all the félibres of avignon were at the water-side to cheer us welcome as the _gladiateur_, with reversed engines, hung against the current above the bridge of saint-bénézet and slowly drew in to the bank. our answering cheers went forth to them through the darkness, and a stave or two of "la coupe" was sung, and there was a mighty clapping of hands. and then the gang-plank was set ashore, and instantly beside it--standing in the glare of a great lantern--we saw our capoulié, the head of all the félibrige, félix gras, waiting for us, his subjects and his brethren, with outstretched hands. from him came also, a little later, our official welcome: when we all were assembled for a _ponch d'honneur_ at the hôtel du louvre--in the great vaulted chamber that once served the templars as a refectory, and that has been the banquet-hall of the félibrige ever since this later and not less honorable order was founded, almost forty years ago. [illustration: avignon] not until those formalities were ended could we of america get away to receive the personal welcome to which through all that day we had been looking forward with a warm eagerness--yet also sorrowing: because we knew that among the welcoming voices there would be a silence, and that a face would be missing from among those we loved. roumanille was dead; and in meeting again in avignon those who had been closest and dearest to him, and who to us were close and dear, there was heartache with our joy. saint-remy-de-provence, _august, ._ the comédie française at orange i after a lapse of nearly fifteen centuries, the roman theatre at orange--founded in the time of marcus aurelius and abandoned, two hundred years later, when the northern barbarians overran the land--seems destined to arise reanimate from its ruins and to be the scene of periodic performances by the comédie française: the first dramatic company of europe playing on the noblest stage in the world. during the past five-and-twenty years various attempts have been made to compass this happy end. now--as the result of the representations of "oedipus" and "antigone" at orange, under government patronage and by the leading actors of the national theatre--these spasmodic efforts have crystallized into a steadfast endeavour which promises to restore and to repeople that long-abandoned stage.[ ] [illustration: general view of the theatre] if they know about it--over there in the shades--i am sure that no one rejoices more sincerely over this revival than do the romans by whom the theatre at orange was built, and from whom it has come down to us as one of the many proofs of their strong affection for that portion of their empire which now is the south-east corner of france. to them this region, although ultimately included in the larger narbonensis, always was simply provincia--_the_ province: a distinguishing indistinction which exalted it above all the other dependencies of rome. constantine, indeed, was for fixing the very seat of the empire here; and he did build, and for a time live in, the palace at arles of which a stately fragment still remains. unluckily for the world of later periods, he was lured away from the banks of the rhône by the charms of the bosporus--and so, without knowing it, opened the eastern question: that ever since has been fought over, and that still demands for its right answering at least one more general european war. thus greatly loving their province, the romans gladly poured out their treasure in adding to its natural beauties the adornments of art. scattered through this region--through the provence of to-day, and, over on the other side of the rhône, through languedoc--are the remnants of their magnificent creations: the pont-du-gard; the arena, and the baths, and the tour-magne, and the beautiful maison-carrée, at nîmes; at arles the arena, the palace of constantine, and the wreck of the once exquisite theatre; the baths at aix; the triumphal arches at orange and carpentras; the partly ruined but more perfectly graceful arch, and the charming monument, here at saint-remy--all these relics of roman splendour, with many others which i have not named, still testify to roman affection for this enchanting land. the theatre at orange--the arausio of roman times, colonized by the veterans of the second legion--was not the best of these many noble edifices. decidedly, the good fortune that has preserved so large a part of it would have been better bestowed upon the far more beautiful, because more purely grecian, theatre at arles: which the blessed saint hilary and the priest cyril of holy memory fell afoul of in the fifth century and destroyed because of its inherent idolatrous wickedness, and then used as raw material for their well-meant but injudicious church-building. but the orange theatre--having as its only extant rival that at pompeii--has the distinction of being the most nearly perfect roman theatre surviving until our day; and, setting aside comparisons with things nonexistent, it is one of the most majestic structures to be found in the whole of france. louis xiv., who styled it "the most magnificent wall of my kingdom," placed it first of all. the unknown architect who wrought this great work--traversing the roman custom of erecting a complete building on level ground--followed the grecian custom of hollowing out a hill-side and of facing the open cutting with a structure of masonry: which completed the tiers of seats cut in the living rock; provided in its main body the postscenium, and in its wings the dressing-rooms; and, rising in front to a level with the colonnade which crowned and surrounded the auditorium, made at once the outer façade and the rear wall of the stage.[ ] the dominant characteristic of the building--a great parallelogram jutting out from the hill-side into the very heart of the town--is its powerful mass. the enormous façade, built of great blocks of stone, is severely simple: a stony height--the present bareness of which formerly was a little relieved by the vast wooden portico that extended along the entire front--based upon a cornice surmounting open tuscan arches and broken only by a few strong lines. the essential principle of the whole is stability. it is the roman style with all its good qualities exaggerated. elegance is replaced by a heavy grandeur; purity by strength. the auditorium as originally constructed--save for the graceful colonnade which surmounted its enclosing wall, and for the ornamentation which certainly was bestowed upon the rear wall of the stage and probably upon the facing-wall of the first tier of seats--was as severe as the façade: simply bare tiers of stone benches, divided into three distinct stages, rising steplike one above another in a great semi-circle. but when the theatre was filled with an eager multitude its bareness disappeared; and its brilliant lowest division--where sat the nobles clad in purple-bordered white robes: a long sweep of white dashed with strong colour--fitly brought the auditorium into harmony with the splendour of the permanent setting of the stage. it was there, on the wall rising at the back of the stage and on the walls rising at its sides, that decoration mainly was bestowed; and there it was bestowed lavishly. following the grecian tradition (though in the grecian theatre the sides of the stage were open gratings) that permanent set represented very magnificently--being, indeed, a reality--a royal palace, or, on occasion, a temple: a façade broken by richly carved marble cornices supported by marble columns and pilasters; its flat surfaces covered with brilliantly coloured mosaics, and having above its five portals[ ] arched alcoves in which were statues: that over the royal portal, the _aula regia_, being a great statue of the emperor or of a god. extending across the whole front of this wall, entirely filling the space between the wings, was the stage. ninety feet above it, also filling the space between the wings, was a wooden roof (long since destroyed) which flared upward and outward: at once adding to the acoustic properties of the building and protecting the stage from rain. still farther to strengthen the acoustic effect, two curved walls--lateral sounding-boards--projected from the rear of the stage and partly embraced the space upon which the action of the play usually went on. i shall not enter into the vexed question of scenery. it is sufficient to say that this permanent set, in regard to which there can be no dispute--a palace, that also would serve as a temple--made an entirely harmonious framework for most of the plays which were presented here. indeed, a more fitting or a more impressive setting could not have been devised for the majority of the tragedies of that time: which were filled with a solemn grandeur, and which had for their chief personages priests or kings. above all, the dignity of this magnificent permanent scene was in keeping with the devotional solemnity of the early theatre: when an inaugural sacrifice was celebrated upon an altar standing in front of the stage, and when the play itself was in the nature of a religious rite. ii certainly for two centuries, possibly for a longer period, the people of arausio maintained and enjoyed their theatre. the beautiful little city of which it was a part was altogether charming: abounding in comforts and luxuries and rich in works of art. from the hill-top where now stands the statue of the virgin was to be seen in those days a miniature rome. directly at the base of the hill was the theatre, and beyond it were the circus and the baths; to the left, the coliseum; to the right, the field of mars; in front--just within the enclosing ramparts, serving as the chief entrance to the town--the noble triumphal arch that remains almost perfect even until this present day. only the theatre and the arch are left now; but the vanished elegance of it all is testified to by the fragments of carved walls and of mosaic pavements which still continue to be unearthed from time to time. surrounding that opulent little city were farms and vineyards and olive-orchards--a gentle wilderness interset with garden-hidden villas whereto the citizens retired to take their ease; and more widely about it was the broad rhône valley, then as now a rich store-house of corn and wine and oil. no wonder that the lean barbarians of the north came down in hungry hordes and seized upon that fatness as roman strength decayed; and no wonder, being barbarians, that the invaders wrecked much of the beauty which they could neither use nor understand. after the second german invasion, in the year of our era, there was little left in gaul of roman civilization; and after the coming of the visigoths, four years later, roman civilization was at an end. yet during that period of disintegration the theatre was not injured materially; and it actually remained almost intact--although variously misused and perverted--nearly down to our own day. the lords of baux, in the twelfth century, made the building the outguard of their fortress on the hill-top in its rear; and from their time onward little dwellings were erected within it--the creation of which nibbled away its magnificent substance to be used in the making of pygmy walls. but the actual wholesale destruction of the interior did not begin until the year : when prince maurice of nassau and orange, in manner most unprincely, used the building as a quarry from which to draw material for the system of fortifications devised for his little capital by his dutch engineers. and this piece of vandalism was as useless as it was iniquitous. only half a century later--during the temporary occupation of orange by the french--prince maurice's fortifications, built of such precious material, were razed. in later times quarrying was carried on in the theatre on a smaller scale; but, practically, all that this most outrageous prince left standing of it still stands: the majestic façade, together with the rooms in the rear of the stage; the huge wings, which look like, and have done duty as, the towers of a feudal fortress; the major portion of the side walls; most of the substructure, and even a little of the superstructure, of the tiers which completed the semi-circles of seats hollowed out of the hill-side; and above these the broken and weathered remains of the higher tiers cut in the living rock. but the colonnade which crowned the enclosing walls of the auditorium is gone, and many of the upper courses of the walls with it; the stage is gone; the wall at the rear of the stage, seamed and scarred, retains only a few fragments of the columns and pilasters and cornices and mosaics which once made it beautiful; the carvings and sculptures have disappeared; the royal portal, once so magnificent, is but a jagged gap in the masonry; the niche above it, once a fit resting place for a god's image, is shapeless and bare. and until the work of restoration began the whole interior was infested with mean little dwellings which choked it like offensive weeds--while rain and frost steadily were eating into the unprotected masonry and hastening the general decay. iii this was the theatre's evil condition when, happily, the architect auguste caristie, vice-president of the commission charged with the conservation of historical monuments, came down to orange early in the nineteenth century--and immediately was filled with an enthusiastic determination that the stately building should be purified and restored. the theatre became with him a passion; yet a steadfast passion which continued through more than a quarter of a century. he studied it practically on the ground and theoretically in the cabinet; and as the result of his patient researches he produced his great monograph upon it (published in a sumptuous folio at the charges of the french government) which won for him a medal of the first class at the salon of . in this work he reëstablished the building substantially as the roman architect created it; and so provided the plan in accordance with which the present architect in charge, m. formigé--working in the same loving and faithful spirit--is making the restoration in stone. most righteously, as a principal feature of the ceremonies of august, , a bust of auguste caristie was set up in orange close by the theatre which owes its saving and its restoration to the strong purpose of his strong heart. and then came another enthusiast--they are useful in the world, these enthusiasts--who took up the work at the point where caristie had laid it down. this was the young editor of the _revue méridionale_, fernand michel--more widely known by his pseudonym of "antony réal." by a lucky calamity--the great inundation of the rhône in the year --michel was detained for a while in orange: and so was enabled to give to the theatre more than the ordinary tourist's passing glance. by that time, the interior of the building had been cleared and its noble proportions fully were revealed; and as the result of his first long morning's visit he became, as caristie had become before him, fairly infatuated with it. for my part, i am disposed to believe that a bit of roman enchantment still lingers in those ancient walls; that the old gods who presided over their creation--and who continue to live on very comfortably, though a little shyly and in a quiet way, here in the south of france--have still an alluring power over those of us who, being at odds with existing dispensations, are open to their genial influences. but without discussing this side issue, it is enough to say that michel--lightly taking up what proved to be the resolute work of half a lifetime--then and there vowed himself to the task of restoring and reanimating that ruined and long-silent stage. for more than twenty years he laboured without arriving at any tangible result; and the third decade of his propaganda almost was ended when at last, in august, , his dream was made a reality and the spell of silence was broken by the presentation of méhul's "joseph" at orange. and the crowning of his happiness came when, the opera ended, his own ode composed for the occasion, "les triomphateurs"--set to music by imbert--echoed in the ancient theatre, and the audience of more than seven thousand burst into enthusiastic cheering over the victory that he had won. truly, to be the hero of such a triumph was worth the work of nine-and-twenty years. even through the dismal time of the german war no time was lost. m. michel and his enthusiastic colabourers--prominent among them being "antony réal, _fils_," upon whom has descended worthily his father's mantle--cared for the material preservation of the building; and succeeded so well in keeping alive a popular interest in their work that they were able to arrange for yet another dramatic festival at orange in august, . both grand and light opera were given. on the first evening "norma" was sung; on the second, "le chalet" and "galatée." to the presentation of these widely differing works attached a curious importance, in that they brought into strong relief an interesting phase of the theatre's psychology: its absolute intolerance of small things. "norma" was received with a genuine furore; the two pretty little operas practically were failures. the audience, profoundly stirred by the graver work, seemed to understand instinctively that so majestic a setting was suited only to dramas inspired by the noblest passions and dealing with the noblest themes. during the ensuing twelve years there was no dramatic performance in the theatre; but in this interval there was a performance of another sort (in april, ) which in its way was very beautiful. m. michel's thrilling "salute to provence" was sung by a great chorus with orchestral accompaniment; and sung, in accord with ancient custom--wherein was the peculiar and especial charm of it--at the decline of day. the singers sang in the waning sunlight, which emphasized and enlarged the grandeur of their surroundings: and then all ended, as the music and the daylight together died away. iv in august, , a venture was made at orange the like of which rarely has been made in france in modern times: a new french play demanding positive and strong recognition, the magnificent "empereur d'arles," by the avignon poet alexis mouzin, was given its first presentation in the orange theatre--in the provinces--instead of being first produced on the paris stage. in direct defiance of the modern french canons of centralization, the great audience was brought together not to ratify opinions formulated by parisian critics but to express its own opinion at first hand. silvain, of the comédie française, was the _maximien_; madame caristie-martel, of the odéon (a grand-daughter of caristie the architect who saved the theatre from ruin), was the _minervine_. the support was strong. the stately tragedy--vividly contrasting the tyranny and darkness of pagan rome with the spirit of light and freedom arising in christian gaul--was in perfect keeping with its stately frame. the play went on in a whirl of enthusiastic approval to a triumphant end. there was no question of ratifying the opinion of parisian critics: those southerners formed and delivered an opinion of their own. in other words, the defiance of conventions was an artistic victory, a decentralizing success. then it was that the félibres--the poets of languedoc and of provence who for forty years have been combating the parisian attempt to focus in paris the whole of france--perceived how the orange theatre could be made to advance their anti-centralizing principles, and so took a hand in its fortunes: with the avowed intention of establishing outside of paris a national theatre wherein should be given in summer dramatic festivals of the highest class. with the félibres to attempt is to accomplish; and to their efforts was due the presentation at orange in august , of the "oedipus" of sophocles and rossini's "moses"--with mounet-sully and boudouresque in the respective title-rôles. the members of the two félibrien societies of paris, the félibrige and the cigaliers, were present in force at the performances--so timed as to be a part of their customary biennial summer festival in the midi--and their command of the paris newspapers (whereof the high places largely are filled by these brave writers of the south) enabled them to make all paris and all france ring with their account of the beauty of the orange spectacle. out of their enthusiasm came practical results. a national interest in the theatre was aroused; and so strong an interest that the deputy from the department of the drôme--m. maurice faure, a man of letters who finds time to be also a statesman--brought to a successful issue his long-sustained effort to obtain from the government a grant of funds to be used not merely for the preservation of the building, but toward its restoration. thanks to his strong presentation of the case, forty thousand francs was appropriated for the beginning of the work: a sum that has sufficed to pay for the rebuilding of twenty of the tiers. and thus, at last, a substantial beginning was made in the recreation of the majestic edifice; and more than a beginning was made in the realization of the félibrien project for establishing a national theatre in provincial france. the festival of last august--again promoted by the félibres, and mainly organized by m. jules claretie, the director of the comédie française--was held, therefore, in celebration of specific achievement; and in two other important particulars it differed from all other modern festivals at orange. first, it was directly under government patronage--m. leygues, minister of public instruction and the fine arts, bringing two other cabinet ministers with him, having come down from paris expressly to preside over it; and, secondly, its brilliantly successful organization and accomplishment under such high auspices have gone far toward creating a positive national demand for a realization of the félibrien dream: that the theatre, again perfect, shall become the home of the highest dramatic art, and a place of periodic pilgrimage, biennial or even annual, for the whole of the art-loving world. i am disposed to regard myself as more than usually fortunate in that i was able to be a part of that most brilliant festival, and i am deeply grateful to my félibrien brethren to whom i owe my share in it. with an excellent thoughtfulness they sent me early word of what was forward among them, and so enabled me to get from new york to paris in time to go down with the félibres and the cigaliers by train to lyons, and thence--as blithe a boat-load of poets as ever went light-heartedly afloat--on southward to avignon on the galloping current of the rhône. v avignon was crowded with dignitaries and personages: m. leygues, who was to preside over the festival; the ministers of justice and of public works, who were to increase its official dignity; artistic and literary people without end. of these last--who also, in a way, were first, since to them the whole was due--our special boat from lyons had brought a gay contingent three hundred strong. with it all, the city of the popes fairly buzzed like a hive of poetic bees got astray from hymettus hill. from avignon to orange the distance is less than eighteen miles, not at all too far for driving; and the intervening country is so rich and so beautiful as to conform in all essentials--save in its commendable freedom from serpents--to the biblical description of paradise. therefore, following our own wishes and the advice of several poets--they all are poets down there--we decided to drive to the play rather than to expose ourselves to the rigours of the local railway service: the abject collapse of which, under the strain of handling twelve or fifteen hundred people, the poets truthfully prophesied. it was five in the afternoon when we got away from avignon. a mistral--the north wind that is the winter bane and summer blessing of provence--was blowing briskly; the sun was shining; the crowded cours de la république was gay with flags and banners and streamers, and with festoons of coloured lanterns which later would be festoons of coloured fire. we passed between the towers of the gateway, left the ramparts behind us, and went onward over the perfect road. plane-trees arched above us; on each side of the road were little villas deep-set in gardens and bearing upon their stone gate-posts the names of saints. as we increased our distance from the city we came to market-gardens, and then to vineyards, olive-orchards, farms. rows of bright-green poplars and of dark-green cypress--set up as shields against the mistral--made formal lines across the landscape from east to west. the hedges on the lee-side of the road were white with dust--a lace-like effect, curious and beautiful. above them, and between the trees, we caught glimpses of mont ventour--already beginning to glow like a great opal in the nearly level sun-rays. old women and children stood in the gateways staring wonderingly at the long procession of vehicles, of which our carriage was a part, all obviously filled with pleasure-seekers and all inexplicable. pretty girls, without stopping to wonder, accepted with satisfaction so joyous an outburst of merrymaking and unhesitatingly gave us their smiles. we crossed the little river ouvèze, and as we mounted from it to the northward the tower of the ruined châteauneuf-du-pape came into view. a new key was struck in the landscape. the broad white road ran through a brown solitude: a level upland broken into fields of sun-browned stubble and of grey-brown olive-orchards; and then, farther on, through a high desolate plain tufted with sage-brush, whence we had outlook to wide horizons far away. off to the eastward, cutting against the darkening sky, was the curious row of sharp peaks called the rat's teeth. all the range of the alpilles was taking on a deeper grey. purple undertones were beginning to soften the opalescent fire of mont ventour. presently the road dipped over the edge of the plain and began a descent, in a perfectly straight line but by a very easy grade, of more than a mile. here were rows of plane-trees again, which, being of no great age and not meeting over the road, were most noticeable as emphasizing the perspective. and from the crest of this acclivity--down the long dip in the land, at the end of the loom of grey-white road lying shadowy between the perspective lines of trees--we saw rising in sombre mass against the purple haze of sunset, dominating the little city nestled at its base and even dwarfing the mountain at its back, the huge fabric of the theatre. dusk had fallen as we drove into orange--thronged with men and beasts like a noah's ark. all the streets were alive with people; and streams of vehicles of all sorts were pouring in from the four quarters of the compass and discharging their cargoes on the public squares to a loud buzzing accompaniment of vigorous talk--much in the way that the ark people, thankful to get ashore again, must have come buzzing out on ararat. i am sorry to say that the handling of a small part of this crowd by the railway people, and of the whole of it by the local management, was deplorably bad. the trains were inadequate and irregular; the great mistake was made of opening only three of the many entrances to the theatre; and the artistic error was committed (against the protest of m. mounet-sully, who earnestly desired to maintain the traditions of the greek theatre by reserving the orchestra for the evolutions of the chorus) of filling the orchestra with chairs: with the result that these so-called first-class seats--being all on the same level, and that level four feet lower than the stage--were at once the highest-priced and the worst seats in the building. decidedly the best seats, both for seeing and hearing, were those of the so-called second class--the newly erected tiers of stone. but so excellent are the acoustic properties of the theatre, even now when the stage is roofless, that in the highest tier of the third-class seats (temporary wooden benches filling the space not yet rebuilt in stone in the upper third of the auditorium) all the well-trained and well-managed voices could be clearly heard. naturally, the third-class seats were the most in demand; and from the moment that the gates were opened the way to them was thronged: an acute ascent--partly rough stairway, partly abrupt incline--which zigzagged up the hill between the wall of the theatre and the wall of an adjacent house and which was lighted, just below its sharpest turn, by a single lamp pendant from an outjutting gibbet of iron. by a lucky mischance, three of the incompetent officials on duty at the first-class entrance--whereat, in default of guiding signs, we happened first to apply ourselves--examined in turn our tickets and assured us that the way to our second-class places was up that stairway-path. but we heartily forgave, and even blessed, the stupidity of those officials, because it put us in the way of seeing quite the most picturesque bit that we saw that night outside of the theatre's walls: the strong current of eager humanity, all vague and confused and sombre, pressing upward through the shadows, showing for a single moment--the hurrying mass resolved into individual hurrying figures--as it passed beneath the hanging lamp, and in the same breath swept around the projecting corner and lost to view. it looked, at the very least, treasons, conspiracies, and mutinous outbursts--that shadowy multitude surging up that narrow and steep and desperately crooked dusky footway. i felt that just around the lighted turn, where the impetuous forms appeared clearly in the moment of their disappearance, surely must be the royal palace they were bent upon sacking; and it was with a sigh of unsatisfied longing that i turned away (when we got at last the right direction) before word came to me that over the swords of his dying guardsmen they had pressed in and slain the king! [illustration: "it looked treasons, conspiracies and mutinous outbursts"] the soldiers on guard at the ascent, and thickly posted on the hill-side above the highest tiers, gave colour to my fancy. and, actually, it was as guards against assassins that the soldiers were there. only a little more than two months had passed since the slaying of president carnot at lyons; and the cautionary measures taken to assure the safety of the three ministers at orange were all the more rigid because one of them was the minister of justice--of all the government functionaries the most feared and hated by anarchists, because he is most intimately associated with those too rare occasions when anarchist heads are sliced off in poor payment for anarchist crimes. this undercurrent of real tragedy--with its possibility of a crash, followed by a cloud of smoke rising slowly above the wreck of the gaily decorated ministerial box--drew out with a fine intensity the tragedy of the stage: and brought into a curious psychological coalescence the barbarisms of the dawn and of the noontime of our human world. vi we came again to the front of the theatre: to an entrance--approached between converging railings, which brought the crowd to an angry focus, and so passed its parts singly between the ticket-takers--leading into what once was the postscenium, and thence across where once was the "court" side of the stage to the tiers of stone seats. [illustration: the great faÇade] however aggravating was this entrance-effect in the matter of composition, its dramatically graded light-and-shade was masterly. from the outer obscurity, shot forward as from a catapult by the pushing crowd, we were projected through a narrow portal into a dimly lighted passage more or less obstructed by fallen blocks of stone; and thence onward, suddenly, into the vast interior glaring with electric lamps: and in the abrupt culmination of light there flashed up before us the whole of the auditorium--a mountain-side of faces rising tier on tier; a vibrant throng of humanity which seemed to go on and on forever upward, and to be lost at last in the star-depths of the clear dark sky. notwithstanding the electric lamps--partly, indeed, because of their violently contrasting streams of strong light and fantastic shadow--the general effect of the auditorium was sombre. the dress of the audience--cloaks and wraps being in general use because of the strong mistral that was blowing--in the main was dark. the few light gowns and the more numerous straw hats stood out as spots of light and only emphasized the dullness of the background. the lines of faces, following the long curving sweep of the tiers, produced something of the effect of a grey-yellow haze floating above the surface of a sable mass; and in certain of the strange sharp combinations of light and shade gave an eerie suggestion of such a bodiless assemblage as might have come together in the time of the terror at midnight in the place du grêve. the single note of strong colour--all the more effective because it was a very trumpet-blast above the drone of bees--was a brilliant splash of red running half-way around the mid-height: the crimson draperies in front of the three tiers set apart for the ministerial party and the félibres. and for a roof over all was the dark star-set sky: whence the great bear gazed wonderingly down upon us with his golden eyes. we were in close touch with the higher regions of the universe. at the very moment when the play was beginning there gleamed across the upper firmament, and thence went radiantly downward across the southern reaches of the heavens, a shooting-star. not until we were in our seats--at the side of the building, a dozen tiers above the ground--did we fairly see the stage. in itself, this was almost mean in its simplicity: a bare wooden platform, a trifle over four feet high and about forty by sixty feet square, on which, in the rear, was another platform, about twenty feet square, reached from the lower stage by five steps. the upper level, the stage proper, was for the actors; the lower, for the chorus--which should have been in the orchestra. the whole occupied less than a quarter of the space primitively given to the stage proper alone. of ordinary theatrical properties there absolutely were none--unless in that category could be placed the plain curtain which hung loosely across the lower half of the jagged gap in the masonry where once the splendid royal portal had been. but if the stage were mean in itself it was heroic in its surroundings: being flanked by the two castle-like wings abutting upon huge half-ruined archways, and having in its rear the scarred and broken mighty wall--that once was so gloriously magnificent and that now, perhaps, is still more exalted by its tragic grandeur of divine decay. and yet another touch of pathos, in which also was a tender beauty, was supplied by the growth of trees and shrubs along the base of the great wall. over toward the "garden" exit was a miniature forest of figs and pomegranates, while on the "court" side the drooping branches of a large fig-tree swept the very edge of the stage--a gracious accessory which was improved by arranging a broad parterre of growing flowers and tall green plants upon the stage itself so as to make a very garden there; while, quite a master-stroke, beneath the fig-tree's wide-spreading branches were hidden the exquisitely anachronistic musicians, whose dress and whose instruments alike were at odds with the theatre and with the play. two ill-advised electric lamps, shaded from the audience, were set at the outer corners of the stage; but the main illumination was from a row of screened footlights which not only made the whole stage brilliant but cast high upward on the wall in the rear--above the gaping ruined niche where once had stood the statue of a god--a flood of strong yellow light that was reflected strongly from the yellow stone: so making a glowing golden background, whence was projected into the upper darkness of the night a golden haze. vii with a nice appreciation of poetic effect, and of rising to strong climax from an opening note struck in a low key, the performance began by the appearance in that heroic setting of a single figure: mademoiselle bréval, in flowing white draperies, who sang the "hymn to pallas athene," by croze, set to music by saint-saëns--the composer himself, hidden away with his musicians beneath the branches of the fig-tree, directing the orchestra. the subduing effect produced by mademoiselle bréval's entrance was instantaneous. but a moment before, the audience had been noisily demonstrative. as the ministerial party entered, to the music of the "marseillaise," everybody had roared; there were more roars when the music changed (as it usually does change in france, nowadays) to the russian anthem; there were shouts of welcome to various popular personages--notably, and most deservedly, to m. jules claretie, to whom the success of the festival so largely was due; from the tiers where the parisians were seated came good-humored cries (reviving a legend of the chat noir) of "vive notre oncle!" as the excellent sarcey found his way to his seat among the cigaliers; and when the poet frédéric mistral entered--tall, stately, magnificent--there broke forth a storm of cheering that was not stilled until the minister (rather taken aback, i fancy, by so warm an outburst of enthusiasm) satisfied the subjects of this uncrowned king by giving him a place of honour in the ministerial box. and then, suddenly, the shouting ceased, the confusion was quelled, a hush fell upon the multitude, as that single figure in white swept with fluttering draperies across from the rear to the front of the stage, and paused for a moment before she began her invocation to the grecian goddess: whose altar-fires went out in ancient ages, but who was a living and a glorious reality when the building in which was this echo of her worship came new from the hands of its creators--seventeen hundred years ago. the mistral, just then blowing strongly and steadily, drew down upon the stage and swept back the singer's grecian draperies in entrancing folds. as she sang, standing in the golden light against the golden background, her supple body was swayed forward eagerly, impetuously; above her head were raised her beautiful bare arms; from her shoulders the loose folds of her mantle floated backward, wing-like--and before us, in the flesh, as in the flesh it was of old before the grecian sculptors, was the motive of those nobly impulsive, urgent statues of which the immortal type is the winged victory. the theory has been advanced that the great size of the greek stage, and of the palace in its rear which was its permanent set of scenery, so dwarfed the figures of the actors that buskins and padding were used in order to make the persons of the players more in keeping with their surroundings. with submission, i hold that this theory is arrant nonsense. even on stilts ten feet high the actors still would have been, in one way, out of proportion with the background. if used at all in tragedy, buskins and pads probably were used to make the heroic characters of the drama literally greater than the other characters. in point of fact, the majestic height of the scene did not dwarf the human figures sustaining serious parts. the effect was precisely the contrary. mademoiselle bréval, standing solitary in that great open space, with the play of golden light upon her, became also heroic. with the characters in "oedipus" and "antigone" the result was the same: the sombre grandeur of the tragedies was enlarged by the majesty of the background, and play and players alike were upraised to a lofty plane of solemn stateliness by the stately reality of those noble walls: which themselves were tragedies, because of the ruin that had come to them with age. upon the comedy that so injudiciously was interpolated into the program the effect of the heroic environment was hopelessly belittling. m. arène's "l'ilote" and m. ferrier's "revanche d'iris" are charming of their kind, and to see them in an ordinary theatre--with those intimate accessories of house life which such sparkling trifles require--would be only a delight. but at orange their sparkle vanished, and they were jarringly out of place. even the perfect excellence of the players--and no grecian actress, i am confident, ever surpassed mademoiselle rachel-boyer in exquisitely finished handling of grecian draperies--could not save them. quite as distinctly as each of the tragedies was a success, the little comedies were failures: being overwhelmed utterly by their stately surroundings, and lost in the melancholy bareness of that great stage. it was all the more, therefore, an interesting study in the psychology of the drama to perceive how the comparatively few actors in the casts of the tragedies--how even, at times, only one or two figures--seemed entirely to fill the stage; and how at all times those plays and their setting absolutely harmonized. viii of scenery, in the ordinary sense of the word, there was none at all. what we saw was the real thing. in the opening scene of "oedipus," the _king_--coming forward through the royal portal, and across the raised platform in the rear of the stage--did literally "enter from the palace," and did "descend the palace steps" to the "public place" where _creon_ and the priests awaited him. it was a direct reversal of the ordinary effect in the ordinary theatre: where the play loses in realism because a current of necessarily recognized, but purposely ignored, antagonistic fact underruns the conventional illusion and compels us to perceive that the palace is but painted canvas, and (even on the largest stage) is only four or five times as high as the _prince_. the palace at orange--towering up as though it would touch the very heavens, and obviously of veritable stone--was a most peremptory reality. [illustration: scene from the first act of "oedipus"] the fortuitous accessory of the trees growing close beside the stage added to the outdoor effect still another very vivid touch of realism; and this was heightened by the swaying of the branches, and by the gracious motion of the draperies, under the fitful pressure of the strong gusts of wind. indeed, the mistral took a very telling part in the performance. players less perfect in their art would have been disconcerted by it; but these of the comédie française were quick to perceive and to utilize its artistic possibilities. in the very midst of the solemn denunciation of _oedipus_ by _tiresias_, the long white beard of the blind prophet suddenly was blown upward so that his face was hidden and his utterance choked by it; and the momentary pause, while he raised his hand slowly, and slowly freed his face from this chance covering, made a dramatic break in his discourse and added to it a naturalness which vividly intensified its solemn import. in like manner the final entry of _oedipus_, coming from the palace after blinding himself, was made thrillingly real. for a moment, as he came upon the stage, the horror which he had wrought upon himself--his ghastly eye-sockets, his blood-stained face--was visible; and then a gust of wind lifted his mantle and flung it about his head so that all was concealed; and an exquisite pity for him was aroused--while he struggled painfully to rid himself of the encumbrance--by the imposition of that petty annoyance upon his mortal agony of body and of soul. in such capital instances the mistral became an essential part of the drama; but it was present upon the stage continuously, and its constant play among the draperies--with a resulting swaying of tender lines into a series of enchanting folds, and with a quivering of robes and mantles which gave to the larger motions of the players an undertone of vibrant action--cast over the intrinsic harshness of the tragedy a softening veil of grace. an enlargement of the same soft influences was due to the entrancing effects of colour and of light. following the grecian traditions, the flowing garments of the chorus were in strong yet subdued colour-notes perfectly harmonized. contrasting with those rich tones, the white-robed figures of the leading characters stood out with a brilliant intensity. and the groups had always a golden background, and over them always the golden glow from the footlights cast a warm radiance that again was strengthened by the golden reflections from the wall of yellow stone, so that the whole symphony in colour had for its under-note a mellow splendour of golden tones. ix in this perfect poetic setting the play went on with a stately slowness--that yet was all too fast for the onlookers--and with the perfection of finish that such actors naturally gave to their work amidst surroundings by which they were at once stimulated and inspired. even the practical defects of the ruinous theatre were turned into poetical advantages which made the tragic action still more real. the woeful entrance of _oedipus_ and the despairing retreat of _jocasta_ were rendered the more impressive by momentary pauses in the broken doorway--that emphasized by its wreck their own wrecked happiness; in "antigone" a touching beauty was given to the entry of the blind _tiresias_ by his slow approach from the distant side of the theatre, led by a child through the maze of bushes and around the fallen fragments of stone; and mademoiselle bartet (_antigone_), unable to pass by the door that should have been but was not open for her, made a still finer exit by descending the steps at the side of the stage and disappearing among the trees. but the most perfect of those artistic utilizations of chance accessories--which were the more effective precisely because they were accidental, and the more appreciated because their use so obviously was an inspiration--was the final exit of _oedipus_: a departure "into desert regions" that mounet-sully was able to make very literally real. over in the corner beside the "garden" exit, as i have said, was a tangled growth of figs and pomegranates; and thence extending almost to the stage was a light fringe of bushes growing along the base of the rear wall among the fragments of fallen stone. it was through that actual wilderness that _oedipus_--crossing half the width of the theatre--passed from the brilliant stage into shadow that grew deeper as he advanced, and at last, entering the gap in the stone-work where once the doorway had been, disappeared into the dark depth beyond. an accident of the moment--the exhaustion of the carbons of the electric lamps--gave to his exit a still keener dramatic intensity. the footlights alone remained burning: flooding with a golden splendour the stage and the great yellow wall, and from the wall reflected upward and outward upon the auditorium; casting over the faces in the orchestra a soft golden twilight, and a still fainter golden light over the more remote hill-side of faces on the tiers--which rose through the golden dusk, and vanished at last in a darkness that still seemed to be a little softened by the faint suggestion of a golden haze. interest and light thus together were focused upon the climax of the tragedy. leaving the light, and with it love and hope and life, behind him, _oedipus_ descended the steps of the palace, leaning upon the shoulder of a slave, and moved toward the thickening shadows. watching after him with a profoundly sorrowful intensity was the group upon the stage: a gorgeous mass of warm colour, broken by dashes of gleaming white and bathed in a golden glow. slowly, painfully, along that rough and troublous way, into an ever-deepening obscurity merging into darkness irrevocable, the blinded king went onward toward the outer wilderness where would be spent the dreary remnant of his broken days. feeling his way through the tangled bushes; stumbling, almost falling, over the blocks of stone; at times halting, and in his desperate sorrow raising his hands imploringly toward the gods whose foreordered curse had fallen upon him because of his foreordered sin, he went on and on: while upon the great auditorium there rested an ardent silence which seemed even to still the beatings of the eight thousand hearts. and when, passing into the black depths of the broken archway, the last faint gleam of his white drapery vanished, and the strain relaxed which had held the audience still and silent, there came first from all those eager breasts--before the roar of applause which rose and fell, and rose again, and seemed for a while to be quite inextinguishable--a deep-drawn sigh. x "antigone," played on the second evening--being a gentler tragedy than "oedipus," and conceived in a spirit more in touch with our modern times--was received with a warmer enthusiasm. no doubt to the greeks, to whom its religious motive was a living reality, "oedipus" was purely awe-inspiring; but to us, for whom the religious element practically has no existence, the intrinsic qualities of the plot are so repellent that the play is less awe-inspiring than horrible. and even in grecian times, i fancy--human nature being the same then as now in its substrata--"antigone," with its conflict between mortals, must have appealed more searchingly to human hearts than ever "oedipus" could have appealed with its conflict between a mortal and the gods. naturally, we are in closer sympathy with the righteous defiance of a man by a woman--both before our eyes, passionately flaming with strong antagonistic emotions--than we are with a man's unrighteous defiance of abstract and invisible fate. as "antigone" was given at orange, the softening influences which had subdued the harshness of "oedipus" still farther were extended, making its deep tenderness still deeper and more appealing. the inspersion of music of a curiously penetrating, moving sort--composed by saint-saëns in an approximation to grecian measures--added a poetic undertone to the poetry of the situations and of the lines; and a greater intensity was given to the crises of the play--an artistic reproduction of the effect caused by the accident of the night before--by extinguishing the electric lamps and so bringing the action to a focus in the mellow radiance which came from the golden footlights and richly lighted the stage. the poetic key-note was struck in the opening scene: when _antigone_ and _ismene_, robed all in white, entered together by the royal doorway and stood upon the upper plane of the great stage, alone--and yet so filled it that there was no sense of emptiness nor of lack of the ordinary scenery. again, the setting was not an imitation, but the real thing. the palace from which the sisters had come forth rose stately behind them. beside the stage, the branches of the fig-tree waved lightly in the breeze. in the golden glow of the footlights and against the golden background the two white-robed figures--their loose vestments, swayed by the wind, falling each moment into fresh lines of loveliness--moved with an exquisite grace. and all this visible beauty reinforced with a moving fervour the penetrating beauty of _antigone's_ avowal of her love for her dead brother--tender, human, natural--and of her purpose, born of that love, so resolute that to accomplish it she would give her life. [illustration: scene from the second act of "antigone"] again, the utter absence of conventional scenery was a benefit rather than a disadvantage. when _creon_ entered upon the upper plane, attended by his gorgeous guard, and at the same moment the entrance of the chorus filled the lower plane with colour less brilliant but not less strong, the stage was full, not of things, but of people, and was wholly alive. the eye was not distracted by painted scenery--in the ordinary theatre a mechanical necessity, and partly excusable because it also supplies warmth and richness of tone--but was entirely at the service of the mind in following the dramatic action of the play. the setting being a reality, there was no need for mechanism to conceal a seamy side; and the colour-effects were produced by the actors themselves: whose draperies made a superb colour-scheme of strong hues perfectly harmonized, of gleaming white, of glittering golden embroideries--which constantly was rearranged by the shifting of the groups and single figures into fresh combinations; to which every puff of wind and every gesture gave fresh effects of light and shade; and over which the golden light shed always its warm radiance. of all those beautiful groupings, the one which most completely fulfilled the several requirements of a picture--subject, composition, colour, light-and-shade--was that of the fourth episode: the white-robed _antigone_ alone upon the upper plane, an animate statue, a veritable galatea; the chorus, a broad sweep of warm colour, on the lower plane; the electric lights turned off, leaving the auditorium in semi-obscurity, and concentrating light and thought upon the golden beauty of the stage. with the entry of _creon_ and his guards both the dramatic and the picturesque demands of the situation were entirely satisfied. in the foreground, a mass of strong subdued colour, were the minor figures of the chorus; in the background, a mass of strong brilliant color, were the minor figures of the guards; between those groups--the subject proper--were _creon_ and _antigone_: their white robes, flashing with their eager gestures and in vivid relief against the rich background, making them at once the centre and the culmination of the magnificent composition. and the beauty and force of such a setting deepened the pathos and intensified the cruelty of the alternately supplicating and ferocious lines. there was, i regret to say, an absurd anticlimax to that noble scene. _antigone_, being recalled and made the centre of a volley of bouquets, ceased to be _antigone_ and became only mademoiselle bartet; and the greek chorus, breaking ranks and scampering about the stage in order to pick up the leading lady's flowers, ceased to be anything serious and became only ridiculous. for the moment french gallantry rose superior to the eternal fitness of things, and in so doing partially destroyed one of the most beautiful effects ever produced upon the stage. even in the case of minor players so complete a collapse of dignity would not easily have been forgiven. in the case of players so eminent, belonging to the first theatre in the world, it was unpardonable. xi but it could be, and was, for the time being forgotten--as the play went on with a smooth perfection, and with a constantly increasing dramatic force, as the action strengthened and quickened in accord always with the requirements of dramatic art. without any apparent effort to secure picturesque effect, with a grouping seemingly wholly unstudied and always natural, the stage presented a series of pictures ideal in their balance of mass, and in their colour and tone, while the turning off and on of the electric lights produced effects analogous to those in music when the soft and hard pedals are used to give to the more tender passages an added grace and delicacy, and to the stronger passages a more brilliant force. and always, be it remembered, the play thus presented was one of the most tenderly beautiful tragedies possessed by the world, and the players--by natural fitness and by training--were perfect in their art. presently came the end--not a climax of action; not, in one sense, a climax at all. with a master-touch, sophocles has made the end of "antigone" the dead after-calm of evil action--a desolate despair. slowly the group upon the stage melted away. _creon_, with his hopeless cry upon his lips, "death! death! only death!" moved with a weary languor toward the palace and slowly disappeared in the darkness beyond the ruined portal. there was a pause before the chorus uttered its final solemn words. and then--not as though obeying a stage direction, but rather as though moved severally by the longing in their own breasts to get away from that place of sorrow--those others also departed: going slowly, in little groups and singly, until at last the stage was bare. the audience was held bound in reality by the spell which had seemed to bind the chorus after _creon's_ exit. some moments passed before that spell was broken, before the eight thousand hearts beat normally again and the eight thousand throats burst forth into noisy applause--which was less, perhaps, an expression of gratitude for an artistic creation rarely equalled than of the natural rebound of the spirit after so tense a strain. in another moment the seats were emptied and the multitude was flowing down the tiers--a veritable torrent of humanity--into the pit: there to be packed for a while in a solid mass before it could work its way out through the insufficient exits and so return again to our modern world. and then the roman theatre--with a fresh legend of beauty added to the roll of its centuries--was left desert beneath the bright silence of the eternal stars. saint-remy-de-provence, _december, ._ the end footnotes [ ] _recipe for poumpo_: flour, ½ oz.; brown sugar, ½ oz.; virgin olive oil (probably butter would answer), ½ oz.; the white and the yolk of one egg. knead with enough water to make a firm paste. fold in three and set to rise for eight or ten hours. shape for baking, gashing the top. bake in a slow oven. [ ] _vin cue_, literally cooked wine, is made at the time of the vintage by the following recipe: boil unfermented grape-juice in a well scoured cauldron [or porcelain-lined vessel] for a quarter of an hour, skimming thoroughly. pour into earthen pans, and let it stand until the following day. pour again into the cauldron, carefully, so as to leave the dregs, and boil until reduced to one-half--or less, or more, according to the sweetness desired. a good rule is to boil in the wine a quince stuck full of cloves--the thorough cooking of the quince shows that the wine is cooked too. set to cool in earthen pans, and when cold bottle and cork and seal. the provençal cooked-wine goes back to roman times. martial speaks of "cocta fumis musta massiliensis." [ ] the admirable edition of saboly's noëls, text and music, published at avignon in the year by françois seguin has been reissued by the same publisher in definitive form. it can be obtained through the librarie roumanille, avignon. [ ] as yet ( ) these high hopes have not been fully realized. in the past eight years dramatic performances repeatedly have been given in the orange theatre, and always with a brilliant success; but their establishment as fixtures, to come off at regular intervals, still is to be accomplished. [ ] the dimensions of the theatre are: width, feet; depth, feet; height of façade and of rear wall of stage, feet; radius of auditorium, feet. [ ] the conventions of the greek theatre--and, later, of the roman theatre--prescribed that through the great central portal kings should enter; through the smaller side portals, queens or princesses (on the left) and guests (on the right); from the portals in the wings, natives of the country (on the left) and strangers (on the right). the conventional entrances from the wings arose from the fact that the spectators in the dionysiac theatre, on the acropolis, saw beyond the stage on the one side the white houses of athens and on the other the plains of attica: and so to them the actors coming from the athenian side were their own people, while those entering from the side toward attica were strangers. in the modern french theatre the "court" and "garden" entrances still preserve this ancient tradition. * * * * * transcriber's note obvious printing errors were repaired; these changes are listed below. other variation in hyphenation is as in the original text. felibrien changed to félibrien "it was the drink of the young félibrien poets" builded changed to built "long before lyons was built or paris even thought of" a covnter-blaste to tobacco. this edition is limited to seventy-five large paper copies, and two hundred and seventy-five small paper copies, issued only to subscribers. bibliotheca curiosa. a covnter-blaste to tobacco. (_written by king james i._) edited by edmund goldsmid, f.r.h.s. privately printed, edinburgh. . a covnter-blaste to tobacco. imprinted at london by r.b. _anno_ . transcriber's note: footnotes moved to end of text. to the reader. as euery humane body _(deare countrey men) how wholesome soeuer, be notwithstanding subiect, or at least naturally inclined to some sorts of diseases, or infirmities: so is there no common-wealth, or body-politicke, how well gouerned, or peaceable soeuer it bee, that lackes the owne popular errors, and naturally enclined corruptions: and therefore is it no wonder, although this our countrey and common-wealth, though peaceable, though wealthy, though long flourishing in both, be amongst the rest, subiect to the owne naturall infirmities. we are of all nations the people most louing and most reuerently obedient to our prince, yet are wee (as time has often borne witnesse) too easie to be seduced to make rebellion, vpon very slight grounds. our fortunate and off prooued valour in warres abroad, our heartie and reuerent obedience to our princes at home, hath bred vs a long, and a thrice happy peace: our peace hath bred wealth: and peace and wealth hath brought foorth a generall sluggishnesse, which makes vs wallow in all sorts of idle delights, and soft delicacies, the first seedes of the subuersion of all great monarchies. our cleargie are become negligent and lazie, our nobilitie and gentrie prodigall, and solde to their priuate delights, our lawyers couetous, our common-people prodigall and curious; and generally all sorts of people more carefull for their priuate ends, then for their mother the common-wealth. for remedie whereof, it is the kings (as the proper phisician of his politicke-body) to purge it of all those diseases, by medicines meete for the same: as by a certaine milde, and yet iust form of gouernment, to maintaine the publicke quietnesse, and preuent all occasions of commotion: by the example of his owne person and court, to make vs all ashamed of our sluggish delicacie, and to stirre vs up to the practise againe of all honest exercises, and martiall shadowes of vvarre; as likewise by his, and his courts moderatenesse in apparell, to make vs ashamed of our prodigalitie: by his quicke admonitions and carefull overseeing of the cleargie to waken them vp againe, to be more diligent in their offices: by the sharpe triall, and seuere punishment of the partiall, couetous and bribing lawyers, to reforme their corruptions: and generally by the example of his owne person, and by the due execution of good lawes, to reform and abolish, piece and piece, these old and euill grounded abuses. for this will not bee_ opus vnius diei, _but as euery one of these diseases, must from the_ king _receiue the owne cure proper for it, so are there some sorts of abuses in common-wealths, that though they be of so base and contemptible a condition, as they are too low for the law to looke on, and too meane for a_ king _to interpone his authoritie, or bend his eye vpon: yet are they corruptions, as well as the greatest of them. so is an ant an_ animal, _as well as an elephant: so is a vvrenne_ auis, _as well as a swanne, and so is a small dint of the toothake, a disease as well as the fearefull plague is. but for these base sorts of corruption in common-wealthes, not onely the_ king, _or any inferior magistrate, but_ quilibet è populo _may serve to be a phisician, by discouering and impugning the error, and by perswading reformation thereof._ _and surely in my opinion, there cannot be a more base, and yet hurtfull corruption in a countrey, then is the vile vse (or other abuse) of taking_ tobacco _in this kingdome, which hath moued me, shortly to discouer the abuses thereof in this following little pamphlet._ _if any thinke it a light argument, so it is but a toy that is bestowed upon it. and since the subiect is but of smoke, i thinke the fume of an idle braine, may serue for a sufficient battery against so fumous and feeble an enemy. if my grounds be found true, it is all i looke for; but if they cary the force of perswasion with them, it is all i can wish, and more than i can expect. my onely care is, that you, my deare countrey-men, may rightly conceiue euen by this smallest trifle, of the sinceritie of my meaning in great matters, never to spare any_ _paine that may tend to the_ _procuring of your weale_ _and prosperitie._ a covnter-blaste to tobacco. that the manifolde abuses of this vile custome of _tobacco_ taking, may the better be espied, it is fit, that first you enter into consideration both of the first originall thereof, and likewise of the reasons of the first entry thereof into this countrey. for certainely as such customes, that haue their first institution either from a godly, necessary, or honorable ground, and are first brought in, by the meanes of some worthy, vertuous, and great personage, are euer, and most iustly, holden in great and reuerent estimation and account, by all wise, vertuous, and temperate spirits: so should it by the contrary, iustly bring a great disgrace into that sort of customes, which hauing their originall from base corruption and barbarity, doe in like sort, make their first entry into a countrey, by an inconsiderate and childish affectation of noueltie, as is the true case of the first inuention of _tobacco_ taking, and of the first entry thereof among vs. for _tobacco_ being a common herbe, which (though vnder diuers names) growes almost euerywhere, was first found out by some of the barbarous _indians_, to be a preseruative, or antidot against the pockes, a filthy disease, whereunto these barbarous people are (as all men know) very much subiect, what through the vncleanly and adust constitution of their bodies, and what through the intemperate heate of their climate: so that as from them was first brought into christendome, that most detestable disease, so from them likewise was brought this vse of _tobacco_, as a stinking and vnsauorie antidot, for so corrupted and execrable a maladie, the stinking suffumigation whereof they yet vse against that disease, making so one canker or venime to eate out another. and now good countrey men let vs (i pray you) consider, what honour or policie can mooue vs to imitate the barbarous and beastly maners of the wilde, godlesse, and slauish _indians_, especially in so vile and stinking a custome? shall wee disdaine to imitate the maners of our neighbour _france_ (hauing the stile of the first christian kingdom) and that cannot endure the spirit of the spaniards (their king being now comparable in largenes of dominions to the great emperor of _turkie_). shall wee, i say, that haue bene so long ciuill and wealthy in peace, famous and inuincible in warre, fortunate in both, we that haue bene euer able to aide any of our neighbours (but neuer deafed any of their eares with any of our supplications for assistance) shall we, i say, without blushing, abase our selues so farre, as to imitate these beastly _indians_, slaves to the _spaniards_, refuse to the world, and as yet aliens from the holy couenant of god? why doe we not as well imitate them in walking naked as they doe? in preferring glasses, feathers, and such toyes, to golde and precious stones, as they do? yea why do we not denie god and adore the deuill, as they doe?[a] now to the corrupted basenesse of the first vse of this _tobacco_, doeth very well agree the foolish and groundlesse first entry thereof into this kingdome. it is not so long since the first entry of this abuse amongst vs here, as this present age cannot yet very well remember, both the first author,[b] and the forme of the first introduction of it amongst vs. it was neither brought in by king, great conquerour, nor learned doctor of phisicke. with the report of a great discouery for a conquest, some two or three sauage men, were brought in, together with this sauage custome. but the pitie is, the poore wilde barbarous men died, but that vile barbarous custome is yet aliue,[c] yea in fresh vigor: so as it seemes a miracle to me, how a custome springing from so vile a ground, and brought in by a father so generally hated, should be welcomed vpon so slender a warrant. for if they that first put it in practise heere, had remembred for what respect it was vsed by them from whence it came, i am sure they would haue bene loath, to haue taken so farre the imputation of that disease vpon them as they did, by vsing the cure thereof. for _sanis non est opus medico_, and counter-poisons are neuer vsed, but where poyson is thought to precede. but since it is true, that diuers customes slightly grounded, and with no better warrant entred in a commonwealth, may yet in the vse of them thereafter, prooue both necessary and profitable; it is therefore next to be examined, if there be not a full sympathie and true proportion, betweene the base ground and foolish entrie, and the loathsome, and hurtfull vse of this stinking antidote. i am now therefore heartily to pray you to consider, first vpon what false and erroneous grounds you haue first built the generall good liking thereof; and next, what sinnes towards god, and foolish vanities before the world you commit, in the detestable vse of it.[d] as for these deceitfull grounds, that haue specially mooued you to take a good and great conceit thereof, i shall content myselfe to examine here onely foure of the principals of them; two founded vpon the theoricke of a deceiuable apparance of reason, and two of them vpon the mistaken practicke of generall experience. first, it is thought by you a sure aphorisme in the physickes, that the braines of all men, being naturally colde and wet, all dry and hote things should be good for them; of which nature this stinking suffumigation is, and therefore of good vse to them. of this argument, both the proposition and assumption are false, and so the conclusion cannot but be voyd of it selfe. for as to the proposition, that because the braines are colde and moist, therefore things that are hote and drie are best for them, it is an inept consequence: for man beeing compounded of the foure complexions (whose fathers are the foure elements) although there be a mixture of them all in all the parts of his body, yet must the diuers parts of our _microcosme_ or little world within ourselves, be diuersly more inclined, some to one, some to another complexion, according to the diuersitie of their vses, that of these discords a perfect harmonie may bee made vp for the maintenance of the whole body. the application then of a thing of a contrary nature, to any of these parts is to interrupt them of their due function, and by consequence hurtfull to the health of the whole body. as if a man, because the liuer is hote (as the fountaine of blood) and as it were an ouen to the stomache, would therefore apply and weare close vpon his liuer and stomache a cake of lead; he might within a very short time (i hope) be susteined very good cheape at an ordinairie, beside the cleering of his conscience from that deadly sinne of gluttonie. and as if, because the heart is full of vitall spirits, and in perpetuall motion, a man would therefore lay a heauy pound stone on his breast, for staying and holding downe that wanton palpitation, i doubt not but his breast would bee more bruised with the weight thereof, then the heart would be comforted with such a disagreeable and contrarious cure. and euen so is it with the braines. for if a man, because the braines are colde and humide, would therefore vse inwardly by smells, or ontwardly by application, things of hot and drie qualitie, all the gaine that he could make thereof would onely be to put himselfe in a great forwardnesse for running mad, by ouer-watching himselfe, the coldnesse and moistnesse of our braine beeing the onely ordinarie meanes that procure our sleepe and rest. indeed i do not denie, but when it falls out that any of these, or any part of our bodie growes to be distempered, and to tend to an extremetie, beyond the compasse of natures temperate mixture, that in that case cures of contrary qualities, to the intemperate inclination of that part, being wisely prepared and discreetely ministered, may be both necessarie and helpefull for strengthning and assisting nature in the expulsion of her enemies: for this is the true definition of all profitable physicke. but first these cures ought not to bee vsed, but where there is neede of them, the contrarie where of, is daily practised in this generall vse of _tobacco_ by all sorts and complexions of people. and next, i deny the minor of this argument, as i haue already said, in regard that this _tobacco_, is not simply of a hot and dry qualitie; but rather hath a certaine venemous facultie ioyned with the heate thereof, which makes it haue an antipathie against nature, as by the hatefull smell thereof doeth well appeare. for the nose being the proper organ and convoy of the sense of smelling to the braines, which are the onely fountaine of that sense, doeth euer serue vs for an infallible witnesse, whether that odour which we smell, be healthfull or hurtfull to the braine (except when it fals out that the sense it selfe is corrupted and abused through some infirmitie, and distemper in the braine.) and that the suffumigation thereof cannot haue a drying qualitie, it needes no further probation, then that it is a smoake, all smoake and vapour, being of it selfe humide, as drawing neere to the nature of the ayre, and easie to be resolued againe into water, whereof there needes no other proofe but the meteors, which being bred of nothing else but of the vapours and exhalations sucked vp by the sunne out of the earth, the sea, and waters, yet are the same smoakie vapours turned, and transformed into raynes, snowes, dewes, hoare frostes, and such like waterie meteors, as by the contrarie the raynie cloudes are often transformed and euaporated in blustering winds. the second argument grounded on a show of reason is, that this filthie smoake, as well through the heat and strength thereof, as by a naturall force and qualitie, is able and fit to purge both the head and stomacke of rhewmes and distillations, as experience teacheth, by the spitting and auoyding fleame, immeadiately after the taking of it. but the fallacie of this argument may easily appeare, by my late preceding description of the meteors. for euen as the smoakie vapours sucked vp by the sunne, and staied in the lowest and colde region of the ayre, are there contracted into cloudes and turned into raine and such other watery meteors: so this stinking smoake being sucked vp by the nose, and imprisoned in the colde and moyst braines, is by their colde and wett facultie, turned and cast foorth againe in waterie distillations, and so are you made free and purged of nothing, but that wherewith you wilfully burdened yourselues: and therefore are you no wiser in taking _tobacco_ for purging you of distillations, then if for preuenting the cholike you would take all kinde of windie meates and drinkes, and for preuenting the stone, you would take all kinde of meates and drinkes, that would breede grauell in the kidneys, and then when you were forced to auoyde much winde out of your stomacke, and much grauell in your vrine, that you should attribute the thanke thereof to such nourishments as bred those within you, that behoued either to be expelled by the force of nature, or you to haue _burst at the broad side_, as the prouerbe is. as for the other two reasons founded vpon experience. the first of which is that the whole people would not haue taken so generall a good liking thereof, if they had not by experience found it verie soueraigne, and good for them: for answere thereunto how easily the mindes of any people, wherewith god hath replenished this world, may be drawen to the foolish affectation of any noueltie, i leaue it to the discreet iudgement of any man that is reasonable. doe we not dayly see, that a man can no sooner bring ouer from beyond the seas any new forme of apparell, but that hee cannot bee thought a man of spirit, that would not presently imitate the same? and so from hand to hand it spreades, till it be practised by all, not for any commoditie that is in it, but only because it is come to be the fashion. for such is the force of that naturall selfe-loue in euery one of vs, and such is the corruption of enuie bred in the brest of euery one, as we cannot be content vnlesse we imitate euerything that our fellowes doe, and so prooue our selues capable of euerything whereof they are capable, like apes, counterfeiting the maners of others, to our owne destruction.[e] for let one or two of the greatest masters of mathematickes in any of the two famous vniuersities, but constantly affirme any cleare day, that they see some strange apparition in the skies: they will i warrant you be seconded by the greatest part of the students in that profession: so loath will they be, to bee thought inferiour to their fellowes, either in depth of knowledge or sharpnesse of sight: and therefore the generall good liking and imbracing of this foolish custome, doeth but onely proceede from that affectation of noueltie, and popular errour, whereof i haue already spoken.[f] the other argument drawen from a mistaken experience, is but the more particular probation of this generall, because it is alleaged to be found true by proofe, that by the taking of _tobacco_ diuers and very many doe finde themselves cured of diuers diseases as on the other part, no man euer receiued harme thereby. in this argument there is first a great mistaking and next a monstrous absurditie. for is it not a very great mistaking, to take _non causam pro causa_, as they say in the logicks? because peraduenture when a sicke man hath had his disease at the height, hee hath at that instant taken _tobacco_, and afterward his disease taking the naturall course of declining, and consequently the patient of recouering his health, o then the _tobacco_ forsooth, was the worker of that miracle. beside that, it is a thing well knowen to all physicians, that the apprehension and conceit of the patient hath by wakening and vniting the vitall spirits, and so strengthening nature, a great power and vertue, to cure diuers diseases. for an euident proofe of mistaking in the like case, i pray you what foolish boy, what sillie wench, what olde doting wife, or ignorant countrey clowne, is not a physician for the toothach, for the cholicke, and diuers such common diseases? yea, will not euery man you meete withal, teach you a sundry cure for the same, and sweare by that meane either himselfe, or some of his neerest kinsmen and friends was cured? and yet i hope no man is so foolish as to beleue them. and al these toyes do only proceed from the mistaking _non causam pro causa_, as i haue already sayd, and so if a man chance to recouer one of any disease, after he hath taken _tobacco_, that must haue the thankes of all. but by the contrary, if a man smoke himselfe to death with it (and many haue done) o then some other disease must beare the blame for that fault. so do olde harlots thanke their harlotrie for their many yeeres, that custome being healthfull (say they) _ad purgandos renes_, but neuer haue minde how many die of the pockes in the flower of their youth. and so doe olde drunkards thinke they prolong their dayes, by their swinelike diet, but neuer remember howe many die drowned in drinke before they be halfe olde. and what greater absurditie can there bee, then to say that one cure shall serue for diuers, nay, contrarious sortes of diseases? it is an vndoubted ground among all physicians, that there is almost no sort either of nourishment or medicine, that hath not some thing in it disagreeable to some part of mans bodie, because, as i haue already sayd, the nature of the temperature of euery part, is so different from another, that according to the olde prouerbe, that which is good for the head, is euill for the necke and the shoulders. for euen as a strong enemie, that inuades a towne or fortresse, although in his siege thereof, he do belaie and compasse it round about, yet he makes his breach and entrie, at some one or few special parts thereof, which hee hath tried and found to bee weakest and least able to resist; so sicknesse doth make her particular assault, vpon such part or parts of our bodie, as are weakest and easiest to be ouercome by that sort of disease, which then doth assaile vs, although all the rest of the body by sympathie feele it selfe, to be as it were belaied, and besieged by the affliction of that speciall part, the griefe and smart thereof being by the sense of feeling dispersed through all the rest of our members. and therefore the skilfull physician presses by such cures, to purge and strengthen that part which is afflicted, as are only fit for that sort of disease, and doe best agree with the nature of that infirme part; which being abused to a disease of another nature, would prooue as hurtfull for the one, as helpfull for the other. yea, not only will a skilfull and warie physician bee carefull to vse no cure but that which is fit for that sort of disease, but he wil also consider all other circumstances, and make the remedies suitable thereunto; as the temperature of the clime where the patient is, the constitution of the planets,[g] the time of the moone, the season of the yere, the age and complexion of the patient, and the present state of his body, in strength or weaknesse. for one cure must not euer be vsed for the self-same disease, but according to the varying of any of the foresaid circumstances, that sort of remedie must be vsed which is fittest for the same. whear by the contrarie in this case, such is the miraculous omnipotencie of our strong tasted _tobacco_, as it cures all sorts of diseases (which neuer any drugge could do before) in all persons, and at all times. it cures all maner of distellations, either in the head or stomacke (if you beleeue their axiomes) although in very deede it doe both corrupt the braine, and by causing ouer quicke disgestion, fill the stomacke full of crudities. it cures the gowt in the feet, and (which is miraculous) in that very instant when the smoke thereof, as light, flies vp into the head, the vertue thereof, as heauie, runs downe to the little toe. it helpes all sorts of agues. it makes a man sober that was drunke. it refreshes a weary man, and yet makes a man hungry. being taken when they goe to bed, it makes one sleepe soundly, and yet being taken when a man is sleepie and drowsie, it will, as they say, awake his braine, and quicken his vnderstanding. as for curing of the pockes, it serues for that vse but among the pockie indian slaues. here in _england_ it is refined, and will not deigne to cure heere any other then cleanly and gentlemanly diseases. omnipotent power of _tobacco_! and if it could by the smoke thereof chace our deuils, as the smoke of _tobias_ fish did (which i am sure could smel no stronglier) it would serue for a precious relicke, both for the superstitious priests, and the insolent puritanes, to cast out deuils withall. admitting then, and not confessing that the vse thereof were healthfull for some sortes of diseases; should it be vsed for all sicknesses? should it be vsed by all men? should it be vsed at al times? yea should it be vsed by able, yong, strong, healthfull men? medicine hath that vertue that it neuer leaueth a man in that state wherein it findeth him: it makes a sicke man whole, but a whole man sicke. and as medicine helpes nature being taken at times of necessitie, so being euer and continually vsed, it doth but weaken, wearie, and weare nature. what speak i of medicine? nay let a man euery houre of the day, or as oft as many in this countrey vse to take _tobacco_, let a man i say, but take as oft the best sorts of nourishments in meate and drinke that can bee deuised, hee shall with the continuall vse thereof weaken both his head and his stomacke: all his members shall become feeble, his spirits dull, and in the end, as a drowsie lazie belly-god, he shall euanish in a lethargie. and from this weaknesse it proceeds, that many in this kingdome haue had such a continuall vse of taking this vnsauerie smoke, as now they are not able to forbeare the same, no more than an olde drunkard can abide to be long sober, without falling into an vncurable weakenesse and euill constitution: for their continuall custome hath made to them, _habitum, alteram naturam_: so to those that from their birth haue bene continually nourished vpon poison and things venemous, wholesome meates are onely poisonable. thus hauing, as i truste, sufficiently answered the most principall arguments that are vsed in defence of this vile custome, it rests onely to informe you what sinnes and vanities you commit in the filthie abuse thereof. first are you not guiltie of sinnefull and shamefull lust? (for lust may bee as well in any of the senses as in feeling) that although you bee troubled with no disease, but in perfect health, yet can you neither be merry at an ordinarie, nor lasciuious in the stewes, if you lacke _tobacco_ to prouoke your appetite to any of those sorts of recreation, lusting after it as the children of israel did in the wildernesse after quailes? secondly it is, as you vse or rather abuse it, a branche of the sinne of drunkennesse, which is the roote of all sinnes: for as the onely delight that drunkards take in wine is in the strength of the taste, and the force of the fume thereof that mounts vp to the braine: for no drunkards loue any weake, or sweete drinke: so are not those (i meane the strong heate and the fume), the onely qualities that make _tobacco_ so delectable to all the louers of it? and as no man likes strong headie drinke the first day (because _nemo repente fit turpissimus_), but by custome is piece and piece allured, while in the ende, a drunkard will haue as great a thirst with a draught as when hee hath need of it: so is not this the very case of all the great takers of _tobacco_? which therefore they themselues do attribute to a bewitching qualitie in it. thirdly, is it not the greatest sinne of all, that you the people of all sortes of this kingdome, who are created and ordeined by god to bestowe both your persons and goods for the maintenance both of the honour and safetie of your king and commonwealth, should disable yourselves in both? in your persons hauing by this continuall vile custome brought yourselues to this shameful imbecilitie, that you are not able to ride or walke the journey of a jewes sabboth, but you must haue a reekie cole brought you from the next poore house to kindle your _tobacco_ with? where as he cannot be thought able for any seruice in the warres, that cannot endure oftentimes the want of meate, drinke, and sleepe, much more then must hee endure the want of _tobacco_. in the times of the many glorious and victorious battailes fought by this nation, there was no word of _tobacco_. but now if it were time of warres, and that you were to make some sudden _caualcado_[h] vpon your enemies, if any of you should seeke leisure to stay behinde his fellowe for taking of _tobacco_, for my part i should neuer bee sorie for any euill chance that might befall him.[i] to take a custome in any thing that bee left againe, is most harmefull to the people of any land. _mollicies_ and delicacie were the wracke and ouerthrow, first of the persian, and next of the romane empire. and this very custome of taking _tobacco_ (whereof our present purpose is), is euen at this day accounted so effeminate among the indians themselues, as in the market they will offer no price for a slaue to be sold, whome they finde to be a great _tobacco_ taker. now how you are by this custome disabled in your goods, let the gentry of this land beare witnesse, some of them bestowing three, some foure hundred pounds a yeere[j] vpon this precious stinke, which i am sure might be bestowed vpon many farre better vses. i read indeede of a knauish courtier, who for abusing the fauour of the emperour _alexander seuerus_ his master by taking bribes to intercede, for sundry persons in his master's eare (for whom he neuer once opened his mouth) was iustly choked with smoke, with this doome, _fumo pereat, qui fumum vendidit_: but of so many smoke-buyers, as are at this present in this kingdome, i neuer read nor heard. and for the vanities committed in this filthie custome, is it not both great vanitie and vncleanenesse, that at the table, a place of respect, of cleanlinesse, of modestie, men should not be ashamed, to sit tossing of _tobacco pipes_, and puffing of the smoke of _tobacco_ one to another, making the filthie smoke and stinke thereof, to exhale athwart the dishes, and infect the aire, when very often, men that abhorre it are at their repast? surely smoke becomes a kitchin far better then a dining chamber, and yet it makes a kitchen also oftentimes in the inward parts of men, soiling and infecting them, with an vnctuous and oily kinde of soote, as hath bene found in some great _tobacco_ takers, that after their death were opened. and not onely meate time, but no other time nor action is exempted from the publicke vse of this vnciuill tricke: so as if the wiues of _diepe_ list to contest with this nation for good maners their worst maners would in all reason be found at least not so dishonest (as ours are) in this point. the publike vse whereof, at all times, and in all places, hath now so farre preuailed, as diuers men very sound both in iudgement, and complexion, haue bene at last forced to take it also without desire, partly because they were ashamed to seeme singular (like the two philosophers that were forced to duck themselues in that raine water, and so become fooles as well as the rest of the people) and partly, to be as one that was content to eate garlicke (which he did not loue) that he might not be troubled with the smell of it, in the breath of his fellowes. and is it not a great vanitie, that a man cannot heartily welcome his friend now, but straight they must bee in hand with _tobacco_? no it is become in place of a cure, a point of good fellowship, and he that will refuse to take a pipe of _tobacco_ among his fellowes, (though by his own election he would rather feele the sauour of a sinke[k]) is accounted peeuish and no good company, euen as they doe with tippeling in the cold easterne countries. yea the mistresse cannot in a more manerly kinde, entertaine her seruant, then by giuing him out of her faire hand a pipe of _tobacco_. but herein is not onely a great vanitie, but a great contempt of god's good giftes, that the sweetenesse of mans breath, being a good gift of god, should be willfully corrupted by this stinking smoke, wherein i must confesse, it hath too strong a vertue: and so that which is an ornament of nature, and can neither by any artifice be at the first acquired, nor once lost, be recouered againe, shall be filthily corrupted with an incurable stinke, which vile qualitie is as directly contrary to that wrong opinion which is holden of the wholesomnesse thereof, as the venime of putrifaction is contrary to the vertue preseruatiue. moreouer, which is a great iniquitie, and against all humanitie, the husband shall not bee ashamed, to reduce thereby his delicate, wholesome, and cleane complexioned wife, to that extremetie, that either shee must also corrupt her sweete breath therewith, or else resolue to liue in a perpetuall stinking torment. haue you not reason then to bee ashamed, and to forbeare this filthie noueltie, so basely grounded, so foolishly receiued and so grossely mistaken in the right vse thereof? in your abuse thereof sinning against god, harming yourselues both in persons and goods, and taking also thereby the markes and notes of vanitie vpon you: by the custome thereof making your selues to be wondered at by all forraine ciuil nations, and by all strangers that come among you, to be scorned and contemned. a custome lothsome to the eye, hatefull to the nose, harmefull to the braine, dangerous to the lungs, and in the blacke stinking fume thereof, neerest resembling the horrible stigian smoke of the pit that is bottomelesse. unwin brothers, printers, london and chilworth. footnotes: [footnote a: this argument is merely that because an inferior race has made a discovery, a superior one would be debasing itself by making use of it.] [footnote b: by sir walter raleigh, one of the greatest and most learned men of the age, whose head the author cut off, partly influenced, no doubt, by his detestation of tobacco. smokers may therefore look upon the author of the "history of the world" as the first martyr in their cause.] [footnote c: a centenarian has recently died, the papers relate, who, till within a few days of his death, was in perfect health, having been a constant smoker, but was unfortunately induced by his friends to give up the habit, from which moment he rapidly sank. probably these barbarians were affected in the same manner.] [footnote d: had the royal pedant ever heard of locking the stable door after the horse has been stolen?] [footnote e: the previous arguments can of course have no weight in our day, but this tendency to imitate others is as true now as then. evidently, if the darwinian theory holds good, a matter of three centuries is not sufficient to cause any perceptible diminution in the strength of original instinct inherited from the ape.] [footnote f: time has taken upon itself to upset this argument; for though the novelty may certainly be said to have worn off, the habit itself is more firmly rooted than ever.] [footnote g: this shows that so late as the th century the influence of the planets on the body was an article of firm belief, even amongst the learned. the following recipes may be of interest to the reader. they are taken from a manuscript volume which belonged to and was probably written by sir john floyer, physician to king charles ii., who practised at lichfield, in the cathedral library of which city the volume now is:--"an antidote to ye plague: take a cock chicken and pull off ye feathers from ye tayle till ye rump bee bare; you hold ye bare of ye same upon ye sore, and ye chicken will gape and labour for life, and in ye end will dye. then take another and do ye like, and so another still as they dye, till one lives, for then ye venome is drawne out. the last chicken will live and ye patient will mend very speedily." "madness in a dog: 'pega, tega, sega, docemena mega.' these words written, and ye paper rowl'd up and given to a dog, or anything that is mad, cure him."] [footnote h: or camisado. a night attack on horseback, wherein the attacking party put their shirts on over their armour, in order to recognise each other in the darkness. charles ii. attempted a camisado at worcester, which did not succeed, owing to treachery.] [footnote i: our royal author would no doubt have been astonished to see english officers smoking on the field of battle, which i am told is now a common occurrence.] [footnote j: it was not dreamt of in james's philosophy, that the price of tobacco might fall to s. d. and less a pound.] [footnote k: they still say in scotland, "to feel a smell."] [illustration: christmas in naples. an italian _presipio._] yule-tide in many lands by mary p. pringle reference librarian, minnesota public library commission and clara a. urann illustrated by l.j. bridgman and from photographs boston lothrop. lee & shepard co. copyright, by lothrop, lee & shepard co. * * * * * "the old order changeth, yielding place to new, and god fulfills himself in many ways, lest one good custom should corrupt the world." --_alfred tennyson._ * * * * * acknowledgments thanks are due to the following publishers for permission to reprint poems: houghton mifflin company for "king olaf's christmas" by h. w. longfellow, "night of marvels" by violante do ceo; paul elder & company for "the christmas tree" by h. s. russell, "at christmas time"; edgar s. werner & company for "the christmas sheaf" by mrs. a. m. tomlinson; john lane company for "a palm branch from palestine" by m. y. lermontov; _american ecclesiastical review_ for "the eve of christmas" by pope leo xiii; e. p. dutton & company for "the voice of the christ-child" by phillips brooks. mary p. pringle clara a. urann * * * * * contents chapter i. yule-tide of the ancients ii. yule-tide in england iii. yule-tide in germany iv. yule-tide in scandinavia v. yule-tide in russia vi. yule-tide in france vii. yule-tide in italy viii. yule-tide in spain ix. yule-tide in america index illustrations christmas in naples. an italian _presepio_ _frontispiece_ king olaf's christmas serenaded by the waits toy-making in germany decorating the christmas tree on the way to christmas eve service in norway a christmas bonfire in russia a christmas tree in paris a game of loto on christmas evening in naples christmas festivity in seville lighting the yule-log in colonial days children of many nationalities at christmas celebration in a new york school chapter i. [illustration] yule-tide of the ancients "there in the temple, carved in wood, the image of great odin stood, and other gods, with thor supreme among them." as early as two thousand years before christ yule-tide was celebrated by the aryans. they were sun-worshipers and believed the sun was born each morning, rode across the upper world, and sank into his grave at night. day after day, as the sun's power diminished, these primitive people feared that he would eventually be overcome by darkness and forced to remain in the under world. when, therefore, after many months, he apparently wheeled about and grew stronger and stronger, they felt that he had been born again. so it came about that at _hweolor-tid_, "the turning-time,"[ ] there was great rejoicing at the annual re-birth of the sun. in the myths and legends of these, our indo-european ancestors, we find the origin of many of the yule-tide customs now in vogue. [footnote : yule-tide] according to the younger edda, wodin or odin, the pioneer of the north, a descendant of saturn, fled out of asia. going through russia to saxland (germany), he conquered that country and left one of his sons as ruler. then he visited frankland, jutland, sweden, and norway and established each one of his many sons on a throne. this pioneer traveler figures under nearly two hundred different names, and so it is difficult to follow him in his wanderings. as wodin, he established throughout the northern nations many of the observances and customs common to the people of the northland to-day. the edda gives an ancient account of balder, the sun-god, who was slain because of the jealousy of loki (fire). loki knew that everything in nature except the mistletoe had promised not to injure the great god balder. so he searched for the mistletoe until he found it growing on an oak-tree "on the eastern slope of valhalla." he cut it off and returned to the place where the gods were amusing themselves by using balder as a target, hurling stones and darts, and trying to strike him with their battle-axes. but all these weapons were harmless. then loki, giving the twig of mistletoe to the blind god, höder, directed his hand and induced him to throw it. when the mistletoe struck balder it pierced him through and through and he fell lifeless. "so on the floor lay balder dead; and round[ ] lay thickly strewn swords, axes, darts, and spears, which all the gods in sport had idly thrown at balder, whom no weapon pierced or clove; but in his breast stood fixt the fatal bough of mistletoe, which lok the accuser gave to höder, and unwitting höder threw-- 'gainst that alone had balder's life no charm." [footnote : from matthew arnold's "balder dead."] great excitement prevailed among the assembled gods and goddesses when balder was struck dead and sank into hel,[ ] and they would have slain the god of darkness had it not occurred during their _peace-stead_, which was never to be desecrated by deeds of violence. the season was supposed to be one of peace on earth and good-will to man. this is generally attributed to the injunction of the angels who sang at the birth of christ, but according to a much older story the idea of peace and good-will at yule-tide was taught centuries before christ. [footnote : _hel_ or _"his grave"_; the terms were once synonymous.] according to the edda, gifts from the gods and goddesses were laid on balder's bier and he, in turn, sent gifts back from the realm of darkness into which he had fallen. however, it probably is from the roman saturnalia that the free exchange of presents and the spirit of revelry have been derived. the druids held the mistletoe in great reverence because of its mysterious birth. when the first new growth was discovered it was gathered by the white-robed priests, who cut it from the main bough with a golden sickle never used for any other purpose. the food peculiar to this season of rejoicing has retained many features of the feasting recorded among the earlier people. the boar made his appearance in mythological circles when one was offered as a gift to frey, god of rain, sunshine, and the fruits of the earth. this boar was a remarkable animal; he could run faster than a horse, through the air and over water. darkness could not overtake him, for he was symbolical of the sun, his golden bristles typifying the sun's rays. at one time the boar was believed to be emblematical of golden grain, as he was the first to teach mankind the art of plowing. because of this service he was most revered by our mythological ancestors. in an account of a feast given in valhalla to the dead heroes of many battles, saehrimnir, a sacred boar, was served. huge pieces were apportioned to the deceased heroes and the meat had such a revivifying effect that, restored to life, they called for arms and began to fight their battles over again. an abundance of heavenly mead made from goats' milk and honey was provided for the feasts and on occasions ale, too, was served. toasts were usually drunk in honor of bragi, god of poetry, eloquence, and song. the gods pledged themselves to perform remarkable deeds of courage and valor as they tossed off horn after horn of mead and ale. each time their mighty valor grew until there was no limit set to their attainments. it is possible that their boastful pledges may have given rise to the term, _to brag._ apples were the favorite fruit, as they prevented the approach of age and kept the gods and goddesses perpetually young and vigorous. certainly yule-tide was a very merry season among the ancient people who feasted, drank, and danced in honor of the return of the sun, the god of light and new life. when messengers went through the various countries bearing tidings of a new religion and of the birth of a son who brought light and new life into the whole world, they endeavored to retain as many of the established customs as possible, but gave to the old-time festivals a finer character and significance. as the fact of christ's birth was not recorded and there was no certainty as to its date, the early christian fathers very wisely ascribed it to yule-tide, changing the occasion from the birthday of the sun to that of the son. for a while the birth of christ was celebrated on dates varying from the first to the sixth of january; on the dates of certain religious festivals such as the jewish passover or the feast of tabernacles; but the twenty-fifth of december, the birthday of the sun, was ever the favorite date. pope julius, who reigned from to a. d., after a careful investigation, considered it settled beyond doubt that christ was born on or about the twenty-fifth of december, and by the end of the fifth century that date was very generally accepted by christians. the transition from the old to the new significance of yule-tide was brought about so quietly and naturally that it made no great impression on the mind of the masses, so nothing authentic can be learned of the early observance of christmas. the holly, laurel, mistletoe, and other greens used by the druids still served as decorations of the season, not as a shelter for fairies, as in former days, but as emblems of resurrection and of immortal hope. the glorious luminary of day, whether known as balder, baal, sol, or any other of the innumerable names by which it was called by the primitive peoples, still gladdens the hearts of mortals at yule-tide by "turning-back" as of old; only to-day it yields its place to a superior power, in whose honor yule-tide is observed. * * * * * all christendom owes a debt of gratitude to its pagan forbears for the pleasant features of many of its holidays and especially for those of yule-tide. the fathers of the early church showed rare wisdom in retaining the customs of these ante-christian festivals, imbuing them with the spirit of the new faith and making them emblematic of a purer love and hope. new year's day as a feast day is one of the oldest, if not the oldest, on record. it is mentioned by tacitus in the first century, but first referred to as a christian festival about the year . in rome the day was dedicated by numa to the honor of god janus, for whom julius cæsar named the month of january. numa ordained that it should be observed as a day of good-humor and good-fellowship. all grudges and hard feelings were to be forgotten. sacrifices of cake, wine, and incense were to be made to the two-faced god who looked forward and backward. men of letters, mechanics, and others were expected to give to the god the best they had to offer of their respective arts. it was the great occasion of the entire year, as it is now in many countries. the date of new year's day has varied among different nations. among the egyptians, chinese, jews, and romans it has been observed on dates varying from march first to december twenty-fifth. it was as late as the sixteenth century before the date of january first was universally accepted as the new year by the romans. nations retaining the gregorian calendar, such as russia and greece, observe it thirteen days later than those who reckon time by the julian calendar. among northern nations the love of fire and light originated the custom of kindling bonfires to burn out the old year and destroy all evil connected with its past. light has long been an expression of joy and gladness among all branches of the aryan race. the greek and latin churches still term christmas the "feast of lights," and make it a period of brilliancy in church and home. the protestant covers the christmas tree with lighted candles and builds a glowing fire on the hearth. the innate love of light and warmth--the inheritance from the sun-worshipers of ages past--is always dominant in humanity at yule-tide festivals. "the king of light, father of aged time, hath brought about that day which is the prime, to the slow-gliding months, when every eye wears symptoms of a sober jollity, and every hand is ready to present some service in a real compliment." [illustration: king olaf's christmas. the king that gave christianity to norway.] king olaf's christmas at drontheim, olaf the king heard the bells of yule-tide ring, as he sat in his banquet-hall, drinking the nut-brown ale, with his bearded berserks hale and tall. three days his yule-tide feasts he held with bishops and priests, and his horn filled up to the brim; but the ale was never too strong, nor the saga-man's tale too long, for him. o'er his drinking-horn, the sign he made of the cross divine, as he drank, and muttered his prayers; but the berserks evermore made the sign of the hammer of thor over theirs. the gleams of the firelight dance upon helmet and haubert and lance, and laugh in the eyes of the king; and he cries to halfred the scald, gray-bearded, wrinkled, and bald, "sing!" "sing me a song divine, with a sword in every line, and this shall be thy reward." and he loosened the belt at his waist, and in front of the singer placed his sword. "quern-bitter of hakon the good, wherewith at a stroke he hewed the millstone through and through, and foot-breadth of thoralf the strong, were neither so broad nor so long, nor so true." then the scald took his harp and sang, and loud through the music rang the sound of that shining word; and the harp-strings a clangor made, as if they were struck with the blade of a sword. and the berserks round about broke forth in a shout that made the rafters ring; they smote with their fists on the board, and shouted, "long live the sword, and the king." but the king said, "o my son, i miss the bright word in one of thy measures and thy rhymes." and halfred the scald replied, "in another 't was multiplied three times." then king olaf raised the hilt of iron, cross-shaped and gilt, and said, "do not refuse; count well the gain and the loss, thor's hammer or christ's cross: choose!" and halfred the scald said, "this in the name of the lord i kiss, who on it was crucified!" and a shout went round the board, "in the name of christ the lord, who died!" then over the waste of snows the noonday sun uprose, through the driving mists revealed, like the lifting of the host, by incense-clouds almost concealed. on the shining wall a vast and shadowy cross was cast from the hilt of the lifted sword, and in the foaming cups of ale the berserks drank "was-hael! to the lord!" --_henry wadsworth longfellow._ chapter ii. [illustration] yule-tide in england "christians in old time did rejoice and feast at this blest tide." --_old carol._ no country has entered more heartily into yule-tide observance than england. from the earliest known date her people have celebrated this festival with great ceremony. in the time of the celts it was principally a religious observance, but this big, broad-shouldered race added mirth to it, too. they came to the festivities in robes made from the skins of brindled cows, and wearing their long hair flowing and entwined with holly. the druids in the temples kept the consecrated fires burning briskly. all household fires were extinguished, and any one wishing to rekindle the flame at any time during the twelve days preceding yule-tide must buy the consecrated fire. the druids also had a rather unique custom of sending their young men around with yule-tide greetings and branches of mistletoe (_quiviscum_). each family receiving this gift was expected in return to contribute generously to the temples. with the coming of the saxons, higher revelry reigned, and a saxon observance of yule-tide must have been a jolly sight to see. in the center of the hall, upon the open hearth, blazed a huge fire with its column of smoke pouring out through an opening in the thatched roof, or, if beaten by the wind, wandering among the beams above. the usually large family belonging to the house gathered in this big living-room. the table stretched along one side of the room, and up and down its great length the guests were seated in couples. between them was a half-biscuit of bread to serve as a plate. later on this would be thrown into the alms-basket for distribution among the poor. soon the servers entered carrying long iron spits on which they brought pieces of the meats, fish, and fowls that had been roasted in _isen pannas_ (iron pans) suspended from tripods out in the yard. fingers were used instead of forks to handle the food, and the half-biscuit plates received the grease and juices and protected the handsome _bord-cloth._ there was an abundance of food, for the saxons were great eaters. besides flesh, fish, and fowls their gardens furnished plenty of beans and other vegetables, and their _ort-geards_ produced raspberries, strawberries, plums, sweet and sour apples, and _cod-apples_, or quinces. the cider and stronger drinks were quaffed from quaint round-bottomed tumblers which, as they could not stand up, had to be emptied at a draught. the saxons dined at about eleven o'clock and, as business was not pressing in those days, could well afford to spend hours at the feast, eating, drinking, and making merry. after every one had eaten, games were played, and these games are the same as our children play to-day--handed down to us from the old saxon times. when night came and the _ear-thyrls_ (eyeholes, or windows) no longer admitted the light of the sun, long candlesticks dipped in wax were lighted and fastened into sockets along the sides of the hall. then the _makers_, or bards as they came to be called in later days, sang of the gods and goddesses or of marvelous deeds done by the men of old. out-of-doors huge bonfires burned in honor of _mother-night_, and to her, also, peace offerings of yule cakes were made. it was the saxon who gave to the _heal-all_ of the celts the pretty name of mistletoe, or mistletan,--meaning a shoot or tine of a tree. there was jollity beneath the mistletoe then as now, only then everybody believed in its magic powers. it was the sovereign remedy for all diseases, but it seems to have lost its curative power, for the scientific men of the present time fail to find that it possesses any medical qualities. later on, when the good king alfred was on the english throne, there were greater comforts and luxuries among the saxons. descendants of the settlers had built halls for their families near the original homesteads, and the wall that formerly surrounded the home of the settler was extended to accommodate the new homes until there was a town within the enclosure. yule within these homes was celebrated with great pomp. the walls of the hall were hung with rich tapestries, the food was served on gold and silver plates, and the tumblers, though sometimes of wood or horn, were often of gold and silver, too. in these days the family dressed more lavishly. men wore long, flowing ringlets and forked beards. their tunics of woolen, leather, linen, or silk, reached to the knees and were fastened at the waist by a girdle. usually a short cloak was worn over the tunic. they bedecked themselves with all the jewelry they could wear; bracelets, chains, rings, brooches, head-bands, and other ornaments of gold and precious stones. women wore their best tunics made either of woolen woven in many colors or of silk embroidered in golden flowers. their "abundant tresses," curled by means of hot irons, were confined by the richest _head-rails._ the more fashionable wore cuffs and bracelets, earrings and necklaces, and painted their cheeks a more than hectic flush. in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries the magnificence of the yule-tide observance may be said to have reached its height. in the old baronial halls where: "the fire, with well-dried logs supplied, went roaring up the chimney wide," christmas was kept with great jollity. it was considered unlucky to have the holly brought into the house before christmas eve, so throughout the week merry parties of young people were out in the woods gathering green boughs, and on christmas eve, with jest and song, they came in laden with branches to decorate the hall. "lo, now is come our joyfull'st feast! let every man be jolly, eache room with yvie leaves be drest. and every post with holly." later on, men rolled in the huge yule-log, emblematic of warmth and light. it was of oak if possible, the oak being sacred to thor, and was rolled into place amidst song and merriment. in one of these songs the first stanza is: "welcome be thou, heavenly king, welcome born on this morning, welcome for whom we shall sing, _welcome yule._" the third stanza is addressed to the crowd: "welcome be ye that are here, welcome all, and make good cheer, welcome all, another year; _welcome yule._" each member of the family, seated in turn upon the log, saluted it, hoping to receive good luck. it was considered unlucky to consume the entire log during yule; if good luck was to attend that household during the coming twelve months, a piece ought to be left over with which to start the next year's fire. [illustration: serenaded by the waits.] "part must be kept wherewith to tende the christmas log next yeare, and where 'tis safely kept, the fiend can do no mischiefe theere." the boar's head held the principal place of honor at the dinner. so during september and october, when the boar's flesh was at its best, hunters with well-trained packs of boar-hounds set out to track this savage animal. they attacked the boar with spears, or surrounded him and drove him into nets. he was a ferocious antagonist to both dogs and men, and when sore pressed would wheel about, prepared to fight to the death. before the dogs could grip him by the ear, his one weak point, and pin him down, his sharp teeth would often wound or even kill both the hunter and his dogs. the pluckier the animal the louder the praise sung in his honor when his head was brought into the hall. the great head, properly soused, was borne in on an immense salver by the "old blue-coated serving-man" on christmas day. he was preceded by the trumpeters and followed by the mummers, and thus in state the boar's head was ushered in and assigned to its place on the table. the father of the family or head of the household laid his hand on the dish containing the "boar of atonement," as it was at one time called, swearing to be faithful to his family and to fulfil all his obligations as a man of honor. this solemn act was performed before the carving by every man present. the carver had to be a man of undaunted courage and untarnished reputation. next in honor at the feast was the peacock. it was sometimes served as a pie with its head protruding from one side of the crust and its wide-spread tail from the other; more often the bird was skinned, stuffed with herbs and sweet spices, roasted, and then put into its skin again, when with head erect and tail outspread it was borne into the hall by a lady--as was singularly appropriate--and given the second place on the table. the feudal system gave scope for much magnificence at yule-tide. at a time when several thousand retainers[ ] were fed daily at a single castle or on a baron's estate, preparations for the yule feast--the great feast of the year--were necessarily on a large scale, and the quantity of food reported to have been prepared on such occasions is perfectly appalling to twentieth-century feasters. [footnote : the earl of warwick had some thirty thousand.] massinger wrote: "men may talk of country christmasses, their thirty-pound butter'd eggs, their pies of carp's tongue, their pheasants drench'd with ambergris, the carcasses of three fat wethers bruis'd for gravy, to make sauces for a single peacock; yet their feasts were fasts, compared with the city's." in king henry iii held a feast in westminster hall for the poor which lasted a week. four years later he entertained one thousand knights, peers, and other nobles, who came to attend the marriage of princess margaret with alexander, king of the scots. he was generously assisted by the archbishop of york who gave £ , besides six hundred fat oxen. a truly royal christmas present whether extorted or given of free will! more than a century later richard ii held christmas at litchfield and two thousand oxen and two hundred tuns of wine were consumed. this monarch was accustomed to providing for a large family, as he kept two thousand cooks to prepare the food for the ten thousand persons who dined every day at his expense. henry viii, not to be outdone by his predecessors, kept one yule-tide at which the cost of the cloth of gold that was used alone amounted to £ . tents were erected within the spacious hall from which came the knights to joust in tournament; beautiful artificial gardens were arranged out of which came the fantastically dressed dancers. the morris (moresque) dance came into vogue in england during the reign of henry vii, and long continued to be a favorite. the dancers were decorated from crown to toe in gay ribbon streamers, and cut all manner of antics for the amusement of the guests. this dance held the place at yule that the fool's dance formerly held during the roman saturnalia. henry viii's daughter, elizabeth, kept the season in great magnificence at hampton court where plays written for the occasion were presented. the poet herrick favored: "of christmas sports, the wassell boule, that's tost up after fox-i-th'-hole." this feature of yule observance, which is usually attributed to rowena, daughter of vortigern, dates back to the grace-cup of the greeks and romans which is also the supposed source of the _bumper._ according to good authority the word _bumper_ came from the grace-cup which roman catholics drank to the pope, _au bon père._ the wassail bowl of spiced ale has continued in favor ever since the princess rowena bade her father's guests _wassheil._ the offering of gifts at yule has been observed since offerings were first made to the god frey for a fruitful year. in olden times one of the favorite gifts received from tenants was an orange stuck with cloves which the master was to hang in his wine vessels to improve the flavor of the wine and prevent its moulding. as lords received gifts from their tenants, so it was the custom for kings to receive gifts from their nobles. elizabeth received a goodly share of her wardrobe as gifts from her courtiers, and if the quality or quantity was not satisfactory, the givers were unceremoniously informed of the fact. in she received at yule a present of a pair of black silk stockings knit by one of her maids, and never after would she wear those made of cloth. underclothing of all kinds, sleeves richly embroidered and bejeweled, in fact everything she needed to wear, were given to her and she was completely fitted out at this season. in sir henry cole is said to have originated the idea of sending christmas cards to friends. they were the size of small visiting-cards, often bearing a small colored design--a spray of holly, a flower, or a bit of mistletoe--and the compliments of the day. joseph crandall was the first publisher. only about one thousand were sold the first year, but by the custom of sending one of these pretty cards in an envelope or with gifts to friends became general and has now spread to other countries. during the reformation the custom of observing christmas was looked upon as sacrilegious. it savored of popery, and in the narrowness of the light then dawning the festival was abolished except in the anglican and lutheran churches. tenants and neighbors no longer gathered in the hall on christmas morning to partake freely of the ale, blackjacks, cheese, toast, sugar, and nutmeg. if they sang at all, it was one of the pious hymns considered suitable-and sufficiently doleful--for the occasion. one wonders if the young men ever longed for the sport they used to have on christmas morning when they seized any cook who had neglected to boil the _hackin_[ ] and running her round the market-place at full speed attempted to shame her of her laziness. [footnote : authorities differ as to whether this was a big sausage or a plum pudding.] _protestants_ were _protesting_ against the observance of the day; puritans were working toward its abolishment; and finally, on december , , parliament ordered "that no observance shall be had of the five and twentieth day of december, commonly called christmas day; nor any solemnity used or exercised in churches upon that day in respect thereof." then christmas became a day of work and no cheer. the love of fun which must find vent was expended at new year, when the celebration was similar to that formerly observed at christmas. but people were obliged to bid farewell to the christmas prince who used to rule over christmas festivities at whitehall, and whose short reign was always one of rare pleasure and splendor. he and other rulers of pastimes were dethroned and banished from the kingdom. yule cakes, which the feasters used to cut in slices, toast, and soak in spicy ale, were not to be eaten--or certainly not on christmas. it was not even allowable for the pretty yule candles to be lighted. christmas has never regained its former prestige in england. year after year it has been more observed in churches and families, but not in the wild, boisterous, hearty style of olden times. throughout great britain yule-tide is now a time of family reunions and social gatherings. ireland, scotland, wales, and the islands each retain a few of their own peculiar customs, but they are not observed to any extent. in ireland--or at least in some parts--they still indulge in drinking what is known as _lamb's-wool_, which is made by bruising roasted apples and mixing the juice with ale or milk. this drink, together with apples and nuts, is considered indispensable on christmas eve. england of all countries has probably known the merriest of yule-tides, certainly the merriest during those centuries when the mummers of yore bade to each and all "a merry christmas and a happy new year, your pockets full of money and your cellar full of beer." there seems always to have been more or less anxiety felt regarding new year's day in england, for "if the morning be red and dusky it denotes a year of robberies and strife." "if the grass grows in janivear it grows the worse for 't all the year." and then very much depended upon the import of the chapter to which one opened the bible on this morning. if the first visitor chanced to be a female, ill luck was sure to follow, although why it should is not explained. it was very desirable to obtain the "cream of the year" from the nearest spring, and maidens sat up till after midnight to obtain the first pitcherful of water, supposed to possess remarkable virtues. modern plumbing and city water-pipes have done away with the observance of the "cream of the year," although the custom still prevails of sitting up to see the old year out and the new year in. there was also keen anxiety felt as to how the wind blew on new year's eve, for "if new year's eve night wind blow south, it betokeneth warmth and growth; if west, much milk, and fish in the sea; if north, much cold and storm there will be; if east, the trees will bear much fruit; if northeast, flee it man and brute." at christmas time at christmas time the fields are white, and hill and valley all bedight with snowy splendor, while on high the black crows sail athwart the sky, mourning for summer days gone by at christmas time. at christmas time the air is chill, and frozen lies the babbling rill: while sobbingly the trees make moan for leafy greenness once their own, for blossoms dead and birdlings flown at christmas time. at christmas time we deck the hall with holly branches brave and tall, with sturdy pine and hemlock bright, and in the yule-log's dancing light we tell old tales of field and fight at christmas time. at christmas time we pile the board with flesh and fruit and vintage stored, and mid the laughter and the glow we tred a measure soft and slow, and kiss beneath the mistletoe at christmas time. o god and father of us all, list to thy lowliest creature's call: give of thy joy to high and low, comforting the sorrowing in their woe; make wars to cease and love to grow at christmas time. let not one heart be sad to-day; may every child be glad and gay: bless thou thy children great and small, in lowly hut or castle hall, and may each soul keep festival at christmas time. the new year "a good new year, with many blessings in it!" once more go forth the kindly wish and word. a good new year! and may we all begin it with hearts by noble thought and purpose stirred. the old year's over, with its joy and sadness; the path before us is untried and dim; but let us take it with the step of gladness, for god is there, and we can trust in him. what of the buried hopes that lie behind us! their graves may yet grow flowers, so let them rest. to-day is ours, and it must find us prepared to hope afresh and do our best. god _knows_ what finite wisdom only _guesses_; not here from our dim eyes the mist will roll. what we call failures, he may deem successes who sees in broken parts the perfect whole. and if we miss some dear familiar faces, passed on before us to the home above, even while we count, through tears, their vacant places, he heals our sorrows with his balm of love. no human lot is free from cares and crosses, each passing year will bring both shine and shower; yet, though on troubled seas life's vessel tosses, the storms of earth endure but for an hour. and should the river of our happy laughter flow 'neath a sky no cloud yet overcasts, we will not fear the shadows coming after, but make the most of sunshine while it lasts. a good new year! oh, let us all begin it with cheerful faces turning to the light! a good new year, which will have blessings in it if we but persevere and do aright. --_e. matheson._ chapter iii. [illustration] yule-tide in germany "feed the wood and have a joyful minute, for the seeds of earthly suns are in it." --_goethe._ it was away back in the time of alexander the great that germany was made known to the civilized world by an adventurous sailor named pytheas, a man of more than ordinary talent, who was sailing northward and discovered a land inhabited by a then unknown people. he reported his discovery to the romans, but the difficulty was that pytheas had seen so much more than any of the greeks or romans of those days that they utterly refused to believe his statements. time has proved that the sailor was nearer right in many of his apparently visionary statements than his countrymen dreamed, although it has taken centuries to prove the fact in some cases. the people whom pytheas then introduced to the polite world were teutons, a branch of the great aryan race and closely related to the early english. the men were simple, truthful, and brave, but were sadly addicted to drink, it was said, and consequently were often quarrelsome. the women were much like those of to-day in their characteristics: virtuous, proud, and dignified; very beautiful, with golden-hued hair, blue eyes, and fresh, fair complexions. like most of the early peoples, the teutons worshiped gods and goddesses, and so have many customs and traditions in common with other branches of the aryans. if england has enjoyed the merriest yule-tides of the past, certainly germany enjoys the merriest of the present, for in no other country is the day so fully and heartily observed. it is the great occasion of the year and means much to the people. for a week or more before the day, loads of evergreen trees of all sizes may be seen coming into the cities and towns to be piled up in squares and open places until the entire place looks like a forest of small firs. one wonders where they all come from and for how many years the supply will last, but it is not likely to fail at present. the lutherans gave martin luther the credit of introducing the christmas tree into germany. he may have helped to make it popular, but certainly there is abundant evidence to prove that it was known long before the reformer's time. it is generally supposed to have its origin in mythological times and to be a vestige of the marvelous tree, yggdrasil. possibly martin luther thought of the old story of the tree and imagined, as he traveled alone one cold night, how pretty the snow-laden fir-trees along his path would look could they be lighted by the twinkling stars overhead. but whether he had anything to do with it or not, the tree is now one of the most important features of yule-tide among the germans of all denominations. nearly ten million households require one or two trees each christmas, varying in height from two to twenty feet. societies provide them for people who are too poor to buy them, and very few are overlooked at this happy holiday season. the grand yule-tide festival is opened on the eve of st. nicholas day, december sixth; in fact bazaars are held from the first of the month, which is really one prolonged season of merrymaking. in germany, st. nicholas has a day set apart in his honor. he was born in. palara, a city of lycia, and but very little is known of his life except that he was made bishop of myra and died in the year . it was once the custom to send a man around to personate st. nicholas on st. nicholas eve, and to inquire how the children had behaved through the year, who were deserving of gifts, and who needed a touch of the birch rods that he carried with him into every home. st. nicholas still goes about in some parts of the country, and in the bazaars and shops are sold little bunches of rods, real or made of candy, such as st. nicholas is supposed to deal in. in some places knight rupert takes the place of st. nicholas in visiting the houses. but kriss kringle has nearly usurped the place st. nicholas once held in awe and respect by german children. [illustration: toy-making in germany. how the rough figures are chipped from the wooden ring coming from the cross-section of a tree.] because st. nicholas day came so near to christmas, in some countries the saint became associated with that celebration, although in germany the eve of his birthday continues to be observed. germans purchase liberally of the toys and confectionery offered at the bazaars, and nowhere are prettier toys and confectionery found than in germany--the country which furnishes the most beautiful toys in the world. from the palace to the hut, yule-tide is a season of peace, rest, joy, and devotion. for three days, that is the day before christmas, christmas, and the day after--known as boxing-day--all business not absolutely necessary to the welfare of the community is suspended. stores, markets, and bazaars present a festive appearance; the young girl attendants are smiling and happy, and every one seems in the best of humor. many of the poorer class, of germans do not eat much meat, but at christmas all indulge in that extravagance, so the markets are unusually crowded. they all like to purchase a plant or a flower for christmas and the flower stores are marvels of beauty and sweetness. every one is busy preparing for the great occasion. grown folks become children again in the simplicity of their enjoyment and enter into the excitement with as much enthusiasm as do the children. newspapers are not generally published during the three days of business suspension, for no one would have time or interest to read them at such a season. in many places churches are open during the week before christmas, for with all the bustle and excitement incident to the preparations, the people, young and old, are filled with a deep spirit of devotion, and never for an instant forget the significance of the occasion they commemorate. churches are not trimmed nor are they made attractive with flowers, songs, or in any special way, but the people go to listen with devotion to the telling of the old, old story of christ's birthday and of the first holy night at bethlehem. the day before christmas all are busy trimming up their homes and preparing for the great day. usually the mother of the household trims the tree, not admitting any other member of the curious and expectant family into the room. tables are provided for holding the gifts, as every one in the family is expected to make a gift to every other member, and it is surprising to note the interest taken in these simple gifts--often a soap-rose, an artificial flower, knitted lace, even sausages, cheese, or butter--and with each and all the ever-present christmas cake. it is spiced and hard, cut into every manner of device--men, women, animals, stars, hearts, etc. the _pfeffer kuchen_ (pepper cakes) or some similar cakes are to be seen everywhere at christmas time. the gifts are often accompanied with short verses, good, bad, or indifferent, according to the talent of the giver, but all serve to make the occasion merry. in some families these simple inexpensive gifts are so carefully kept that collections may be seen of gifts received by different members of the family since their infancy. [illustration: decorating the christmas tree.] on christmas eve the guests assemble early, and by six o'clock a signal is given for the door of the mysterious room to be opened to admit the family to the tree: "o hemlock tree! o hemlock-tree! how faithful are thy branches! green not alone in summer time, but in the winter's frost and rime! o hemlock-tree! o hemlock-tree! how faithful are thy branches!" it is ablaze with tiny lighted tapers and radiant with shiny tinsel cut in pretty devices or in thread-like strips. bright balls, gay toys, and paper flowers help to enhance its beauty, and sometimes scenes from sacred history are arranged with toys at the base of the tree. with the distribution of the gifts the fun begins; each person is expected to kiss every other person present and help make the occasion a merry one. holy night, or, as the germans term it, _weihnacht_--the night of dedication--is the time of family reunions, fun, and frolic. not alone in homes, hospitals, prisons, barracks, and elsewhere is the pretty betinseled tree to be seen on christmas, but in burying-grounds, on the resting-places of the dead, stand these fresh green trees in evidence of keeping the loved one's memory green. while the custom of having a tree is universal throughout germany, and from thence has been introduced into other countries, there are many customs peculiar to certain sections. in some of the little out-of-the-way places in the tyrolese alps the old-time miracle plays are enacted in a most primitive manner. as the peasants rarely, if ever, attend the theatre or have any opportunity to see a modern play, this occasion attracts them from far and near. where is the theatre, who are the actors, do you ask? the theatre is the largest place available, sometimes a large room, sometimes a barn, anything that will accommodate the crowd that is sure to come. in one description of a play given on christmas day it is stated that the people assembled in a barn belonging to the vicarage to witness the paradise play. the top of a huge pottery stove at least five feet high served for the throne of god the father, the stove being hidden by screens painted to represent clouds. the play "began at the beginning,"--at chaos. a large paper screen bedecked with a profusion of suns, moons, stars, and comets formed a background, while in front sprawled a number of boys in tights with board wings fastened to their shoulders to represent angels. the language was as simple and primitive as the scenery, yet for the credulous, devout peasants "no distance is too great, no passes too steep or rough, no march on dusty highroads too fatiguing, if a miracle or passion play is their goal." does it seem sacrilegious? not to those who attend it in the spirit of humility and devotion, as do these tyrolese peasants. in some places plays are given in churches on christmas as they were formerly in england, but these are not common, and are only found in remote places. throughout this country there is always a church service in the morning which is very generally attended, protestants and catholics alike making christmas the day of all the year in which they attend church. the name christmas probably originated from the order that was given for saying mass (called christ-mass) for the sins of the people on the day that commemorates the saviour's birth. one beautiful feature of a german christmas is the wide-spread thought for the poor and the interest taken in them. many wealthy families have charge of a certain number of poor families, and on christmas day invite them to their own luxurious homes to receive gifts and enjoy the tree prepared for them. an address, prayer, and song as they stand around the tree precedes the distribution of gifts, usually of clothing and food, with which the guests fill the bags and baskets they bring with them. and for all there is an abundance of _pfeffer kuchen_, or some other christmas cake. in the midst of all the excitement of lighted tree and pretty gifts, german children seldom forget to return thanks for what they receive. they are taught that all these gifts come through the christ-child, and that the occasion is not for selfish enjoyment but to give pleasure to others, and that no one is too poor to give kindly thought and pleasant words to those around them. in some parts of germany--lorraine is one--the people burn the yule-log; sometimes a huge log that will last through the three days' festivity, sometimes one so small that the family sit before it until it is all consumed. sometimes a part of the log is suspended from the ceiling of the room and each person present blows at it hoping to make a spark fall on some watching face; then again some carry a piece of the log to bed with them to protect them from lightning. but the yule-log is not very generally known in this land of great pottery stoves and closed fireplaces, and that may be one reason why post-wagons go rumbling about at christmas time, carrying parcels from place to place and from door to door, blowing their post-horns continuously, instead of the parcels being dropped down chimneys by santa claus. it is customary, also, in some parts of the country, for the people and their animals to fast the day before christmas. at midnight the people attend church and it is _said_ that the _cattle kneel_; then both man and beast partake of a hearty meal. there are places in the german alps where it is believed that the cattle are blessed with the gift of language for a while on christmas eve, but as it is a very great sin to listen, no one has yet reported any conversation among them. in another part of the country it is thought that the virgin mary with a company of angels passes over the land on holy night, and so tables are spread with the best the larders afford and candles are lighted and left burning that the angelic visitors may find abundant food should they chance to stop on their way. boxing-day, when boxes prepared for the poor are distributed, follows the holy day and after that business is resumed, although festivities do not cease. sylvester, or new year's eve, is the next occasion to be observed during yule-tide. the former name was given in honor of the first pope of that name, and still retained by many. after the usual church service in the early evening, the intervening hours before midnight are spent in the most boisterous merriment. fun of all sorts within the limit of law and decency prevails. any one venturing forth wearing a silk hat is in danger of having his hat, if not his head, smashed. "hat off," cries the one who spies one of these head-coverings, and if the order is not instantly obeyed, woe betide the luckless wearer. at midnight all germany, or at least all in the cities and the larger towns, may be seen out-of-doors or leaning from windows, waiting for the bells to ring out the old year and welcome in the new. at first stroke of the bells there arises one universal salute of _prosit neujahr_ (happy new year). it is all good-natured fun, a wild, exuberant farewell to the old year--the closing scene of the joyous yule-tide. the christmas tree the oak is a strong and stalwart tree, and it lifts its branches up, and catches the dew right gallantly in many a dainty cup: and the world is brighter and better made because of the woodman's stroke, descending in sun, or falling in shade, on the sturdy form of the oak. but stronger, i ween, in apparel green, and trappings so fair to see, with its precious freight for small and great, is the beautiful christmas tree. the elm is a kind and goodly tree, with its branches bending low: the heart is glad when its form we see, and we list to the river's flow. ay, the heart is glad and the pulses bound, and joy illumes the face, whenever a goodly elm is found because of its beauty and grace. but kinder, i ween, more goodly in mien, with branches more drooping and free, the tint of whose leaves fidelity weaves, is the beautiful christmas tree. --_hattie s. russell._ chapter iv. [illustration] yule-tide in scandinavia the horn was blown for silence, come was the votive hour; to frey's high feast devoted they carry in the boar. --_frithof's "saga," trans. bayard taylor._ "to norroway, to norroway," the most northern limit of scandinavia, one turns for the first observance of christmas in scandinavia, for the keeping of yule-tide in the land of odin, of the vikings, sagas, midnight sun, and the gorgeous aurora borealis. this one of the twin countries stretching far to the north with habitations within nineteen degrees of the north pole, and the several countries which formed ancient scandinavia, are one in spirit regarding christmas although not in many other respects. in the far north among the vast tribe of lapps, in their cold, benighted country, as christmas approaches each wandering tribe heads its reindeer toward the nearest settlement containing a church, that it may listen to the story of the first christmas morn which is told year after year by the pastor, and yet is ever new and interesting to the people who come from great distances, drawn over the fields of crisp snow by their fleet-footed reindeer. the lapp is apparently a joyless individual. men, women, and children seem bereft of all power of amusement beyond what tends to keep them alive, such as fishing, hunting, and traveling about to feed their herds of reindeer. they have no games, no gift for music, they never dance nor play cards, but year after year drag out an existence, living within low earth-covered huts or in tents. even the best homes are low and poorly ventilated. for windows are not needed where darkness reigns for months together, where the sun is not seen at all during six or seven weeks of the year, and where people live out-of-doors during the long summer day of sunlight that follows. in their low, stuffy homes which at christmas are filled with guests from the wandering lapps, there is no room for the pretty tree and decorative evergreens. the joy afforded these people at yule-tide is in the reunion of friends, in attending church services, in the uniting of couples in marriage, and, alas, in the abundance of liquor freely distributed during this season. the children are made happy by being able to attend school, for at christmas they are brought into the settlements with friends for this purpose. they have only a few weeks' schooling during the year, from christmas to easter, and while the schoolmasters are stationed at the little towns, the children work hard to gain the knowledge of books and religion which they crave. in this terrible winter night of existence, amidst an appalling darkness of nature and mind, the one great occasion of the year is christmas. not the merry, bright, festive occasion of their more favored brothers and sisters, but what to them is the happiest in the year. christmas eve passes unnoticed. the aurora may be even more beautiful than usual, its waving draperies more fantastic, more gorgeous-hued, but it is unnoticed by the lapps who have seen it from childhood. men, women, children, servants, guests, and animals, crowd into the small, low homes, without a thought of santa claus coming to visit them. children have no stockings to hang up, and there are no chimneys for santa to descend. in fact, he and his reindeer, with their loads of treasured gifts, probably left this region with the sun, bound for more congenial places. the church bells break the terrible silence of the sunless towns on christmas morning, and as the fur-encased natives wend their way to church, greeting one another as they meet, there is a faint approach to joyousness. of course there must be real sorrow and joy wherever there is life and love, although among the lapps it is hard to discern. during yule-tide the lapps visit one another, attend to what governmental business there may be, give in marriage, christen the children, and bury the dead, whose bodies have lain beneath their covering of snow awaiting this annual visit of the norwegian clergyman for their final interment. think of christmas without a tree, without wreaths and flowers, without stockings full of gifts, with a dinner of reindeer meat and no plum pudding! and imagine what would be his sensation could a lapp child be put into a home in england, america, germany, or even in other parts of scandinavia! what would he say could he receive such gifts as were given you last christmas! but lapps are only a small part of the population of norway. norwegian children have many jolly times around the christmas trees and enjoy hunting for their little gifts which are often tucked away in various places for them to find. then there are all sorts of pretty games for them to play and quantities of appetizing food prepared for their pleasure. the young folks earn their feast, for all day long before christmas they are busy tying bunches of oats and corn on the trees, the fences, the tops of houses and of barns, and on high poles which they erect in the yards, until "from gable, barn and stable protrudes the birdies' table spread with a sheaf of corn." the norwegians begin their christmas with divine services, after which they meet together for a repast which is an appetizer for the feast to follow. a pipe of tobacco is given to each man and boy present, then they smoke while the feast, the great feature of the day, is being made ready. fish, poultry, meats, and every variety of food known to the norwegian housewife is served in courses, between which toasts are given, healths drunk, and the songs of norway rendered. among the latter "old norway" is always included, for the people never forget the past history of their beloved country. one of the pretty customs of these occasions is that each guest on arising turns to the host and hostess, who remain seated at either end of the table, and, bowing to each, expresses his thanks for the meal. [illustration: on the way to christmas eve service in norway.] sometimes after the serving of tea at seven o'clock, little boys in white mantles, with star-shaped lanterns and dolls to represent the virgin and the holy babe, enter the room and sing sweet carols. often strolling musicians arrive, such as go from place to place at christmas. after a large supper the guests depart on sledges for their homes, which are often miles distant. do you suppose on christmas eve, as they look toward the fading light in the west, the children of norway ever think of their scandinavian cousins, the little icelanders, in their peat houses, on that isolated island in the sea, where the shortest day is four hours long, and where at christmas time the sun does not rise above the horizon for a week, and wonder how they are celebrating yule-tide? christmas is a great day with them also, for they cling to the old songs and customs, and could the west wind convey the sound of glad voices across the wide expanse of water separating the island from the mainland, norwegian children might hear the icelandic children singing one of their sweet old songs. "when i do good and think aright at peace with man, resigned to god, thou look'st on me with eyes of light, tasting new joys in joy's abode." in sweden there is a general house-cleaning before christmas; everything must be polished, scrubbed, beaten, and made clean, and all rubbish burned, for dirt, like sinful thoughts, cannot be tolerated during the holy festival. as early as the first of december each housewife starts her preparations for the great day. many have worked all the year making gifts for the occasion, but now the carpets must come up and be beaten, the paint must be cleaned, and the house set in order. the silver which has been handed down from generation to generation, together with that received on holidays and birthdays, has to be cleaned and polished, so must the brasses--the tall fire-dogs, the stately andirons, and the great kettles--all must be made to reflect every changing ray of light. then the baking for a well-ordered household is a matter of great moment, and requires ample time. it is usual to begin at least two weeks before christmas. bread is made of wheat and rye flour, raised over night, then rolled very thin and cut into discs twelve or fourteen inches in diameter, with a hole in the center. after having been baked, these are strung on a stick and left to dry under the beams of the baking-room. as they will keep a long while, large quantities are made at this season in each household. then follows the making of sweetened, soft, rye, wheat, and other breads, as well as the baking of the light yellow (saffron), the chocolate-brown, and thin gray-colored cakes, and those that are filled with custard. the preparing of christmas drinks always requires the close attention of good dames, for there must be an inexhaustible supply of christmas beer, made of malt, water, molasses, and yeast, and wine with almonds and spices, and various other decoctions. then the cheese must be made ready, not only the usual sour kind, but the more delicious sweet cheese that is made of sweet milk boiled slowly for hours and prettily moulded. the swedish wife is relieved of the burden of making pies, as her people know nothing about that indigestible mixture so acceptable to american palates. the festivities begin with the dressing of the tree the day before christmas. in this the older members of the family, with friends and relatives, join with great gusto, preparing paper flowers with which to bedeck the tall evergreen tree which reaches from floor to ceiling. they cut long ribbons of colored paper for streamers, and make yards of paper fringe to wind with the tinsel among the boughs, from which are hung bright colored boxes of sweetmeats, fruit, and fancy balls. the children are, of course, excluded from the room and obliged to content themselves with repeating the tales of santa claus, as told by their elders. when a gift is offered in person, or, as is more generally the case, is thrown in the door suddenly by an unseen hand, there rings a merry _glad frill_ (good yule) meaning "merry christmas," for that is the wish of the preceding day or days, rather than of christmas itself. on christmas eve at early nightfall, when the colored candles are ablaze over the entire tree, and the great red ball of light shines from its topmost branches, the children are admitted to the room amidst a babel of shouts and screams of delight, which are increased upon the arrival of a veritable santa claus bestrewn with wool-snow and laden with baskets of gifts. on the huge sled are one or more baskets according to the number of bundles to be distributed in the family. each bundle bears the name of the owner on its wrapper, together with funny rhymes and mottoes, which are read aloud for the amusement of all. santa claus always gives an abundance of valuable counsel and advice to the young folks as he bestows upon them his pretty gifts. after the distribution of gifts and the disappearance of santa claus, all join in dancing and singing around the tree simple, childish jingles such as the following: "now is christmas here again, now is christmas here again, after christmas then comes easter, cheese and bread and christmas beer, fish and rice and christmas cheer! --etc." one of the prettiest dances is that of "cutting the oats," in which girls and boys--there must be an extra boy--dance in a circle, singing: "cut the oats, cut the oats, who is going to bind them? that my dearest will have to do, but where will i find him? "i saw him last eve in the moonlight, in the moonlight clear and bright, so you take one and i'll take one, and he will be left without one." the boys represent the cutters and the girls the oats, and great merriment prevails as the cutters' arms encircle the waists of the pretty oats, leaving the unfortunate cutter, whom they all dance around, bowing scoffingly as they shout: "no one did want you, poor sprite, no one wants you, you are left alone, you are left alone." many of their games are similar to "blind man's buff," "hunt the key," and "hot and cold," or "hunt to the music," the latter being one which by its modulations from pianissimo to forte indicate the hunters' nearness to the object sought for. the game of "blind feeding the blind" causes much amusement among the juveniles; two players sit opposite each other blindfolded and endeavor to feed one another with spoonfuls of milk, and their mishaps are very entertaining to the on-lookers. between the hours of ten and eleven comes the grand christmas supper, when all adjourn to the dining-room to partake of the annual feast for which the housewives have long been preparing. the table is usually tastefully and often elaborately trimmed with flowers and green leaves. the corners of the long snow-white homespun cloth are caught up into rosettes surrounded with long calla or other leaves; possibly the entire edge of the table is bedecked with leaves and flowers. the butter is moulded into a huge yellow rose resting on bright green leaves, and the napkins assume marvelous forms under the deft fingers of the artistic housewives. the christmas mush holds the first place in importance among the choice viands of the occasion; it is rice boiled a long while in milk and seasoned with salt, cinnamon, and sugar, and is eaten with cream. several blanched almonds are boiled in the mush and it is confidently believed that whoever finds the first almond will be the first to be married. while eating the mush, each one is expected to make rhymes about the rice and the good luck it is to bring them, and the most remarkable poetical effusions are in order on these occasions. the christmas fish is to the swede what the christmas roast-beef is to the englishman, an indispensable adjunct of the festival. the fish used resembles a cod; it is buried for days in wood ashes or else it is soaked in soda water, then boiled and served with milk gravy. bread, cheese, and a few vegetables follow, together with a pudding made of salt herrings, skinned, boned, and cut in thin slices, which are laid in a dish with slices of cold boiled potatoes and hard-boiled eggs, covered with a dressing of cream, butter, and eggs-then baked and served hot. the fish, rice, and a fat goose are said to be served at every table on christmas from that of the king to that of the commonest of his subjects. christmas morning opens with an early service in church, to which the older members of the family go in sled parties of from forty to fifty sleds, each drawn by one, two, or even three horses, over whose backs jingle rows of silver-toned bells. the sled parties are an especial feature of christmas time. they start out while the stars are still twinkling in the sky, and the lighted trees are illuminating the homes they pass. the day itself is observed with less hilarity than other days during the season; the "second christmas," or day following, being far gayer. then begin the family parties, with the looking forward to the great twelfth-night ball, after which the children and young folks end their evening parties by untrimming the tree of their entertainer amidst peals of laughter, songs, and shouts. the tree, of course, has been supplied anew with candles, fruit, and candy. the first are blown out and the last two struggled for while the tree is drawn slowly toward the door out of which it is finally pitched by the merry crowd. the swedes have four legal holidays at yule, beginning the day previous to christmas, and they make merry while they last. besides having the _jul-gran_ or christmas tree, each family places in the yard a pole with a sheaf of grain on top for the birds' christmas dinner, a pretty custom common to many countries. business is very generally suspended during christmas, the day following, twelfth day, and the twentieth day. "do as your forefathers have done, and you can't do wrong," is said to be the motto of the swedes. so the customs of their forefathers are strictly observed at yule-tide. _svea_, the feminine name of sweden, the "queen of the north," contains what is popularly believed to be the burial-places of wodin, thor, and freya. the mounds are about one mile from upsala and are visited by travelers from all parts of the world. antiquarian researchers, however, have recently had a word to say in doubt whether these mounds contain the remains of the renowned beings, those ancient travelers. the swedes, however, still cling to the belief that the bones of wodin, the alexander of the north, rest beneath the sod at upsala. in these mounds have been found the bones of a woman and of a dog, a bracelet of filigree work, and a curious pin shaped like a bird, but no sign of wodin's presence. yet peasants believe that wodin passes by on dark nights, and his horse's shoe, with eight nail-holes, is exhibited in the museum at utwagustorp. new year's day is of comparatively little importance; the christmas trees are usually relighted for the enjoyment of the poorer children and gifts are made to the needy. the yule festivities are prolonged for two weeks in many places, during which the people visit from home to home and enjoy many social pleasures. the devout attend church services each day, abandon all work so far as possible, and on january thirteenth generally finish up the joyous season with a ball. the swedes do not trim their churches with evergreen at yule-tide as that is an emblem of mourning with them, and is used instead of crape on the door and often strewn before the hearse and also upon the floor in the saddened homes, so of course at christmas they would not think of using it for decorations. but where they can afford it or can procure them, they use flowers to decorate their homes. in denmark, christmas is a time of unusual merriment and rejoicing. no one who can possibly avoid it works at all from the day before christmas until after new year, but spends the time in visiting, eating, and drinking. "may god bless your christmas; may it last till easter," is the usual salutation of the season. with the people of denmark the favorite dish for christmas dinner is a goose; every one, even the cattle, the dog, and the birds, receive the best the larder affords on this occasion. there is a peculiar kind of cake that is made for each member of every family, and, for some reason not explained, the saltcellar remains on the table throughout yule-tide. those who own fruit-trees feel it incumbent upon them to go at midnight on christmas eve and with a stick in hand strike each tree three times saying as they do so, "rejoice, o tree,--rejoice and be fruitful." in denmark it is believed by many that the cattle rise on their knees at midnight on christmas eve, but no one ever seems to have proved this saying to be true. in this country also the children delight in listening to stories of trolls who have been driven to the island of bornhern by the parsons although they once ran riot through zealand, and the little folks sing pretty songs of balder, the sun god, which are a special feature of the season. it is customary to usher in the new year with a noise of firearms of every description. the christmas sheaf far over in norway's distant realm, that land of ice and snow, where the winter nights are long and drear, and the north winds fiercely blow, from many a low-thatched cottage roof, on christmas eve, 'tis said, a sheaf of grain is hung on high, to feed the birds o'erhead. in years gone by, on christmas eve, when the day was nearly o'er, two desolate, starving birds flew past a humble peasant's door. "look! look!" cried one, with joyful voice and a piping tone of glee: "in that sheaf there is plenteous food and cheer, and the peasant had but three. one he hath given to us for food, and he hath but two for bread, but he gave it with smiles and blessings, 'for the christ-child's sake,' he said." "come, come," cried the shivering little mate, "for the light is growing dim; 'tis time, ere we rest in that cosy nest, to sing our evening hymn." and this was the anthem they sweetly sang, over and over again: "the christ-child came on earth to bless the birds as well as men." then safe in the safe, snug, warm sheaf they dwelt, till the long, cold night was gone, and softly and clear the sweet church bells rang out on the christmas dawn, when down from their covert, with fluttering wings, they flew to a resting-place, as the humble peasant passed slowly by, with a sorrowful, downcast face. "homeless and friendless, alas! am i," they heard him sadly say, "for the sheriff," (he wept and wrung his hands) "will come on new year's day." the birdlings listened with mute surprise. "'tis hard," they gently said; "he gave us a sheaf of grain for food, when he had but three for bread. we will pray to god, he will surely help this good man in distress;" and they lifted their voices on high, to crave his mercy and tenderness. then again to the christmas sheaf they flew, in the sunlight, clear and cold: "joy! joy! each grain of wheat," they sang, "is a shining coin of gold." "a thousand ducats of yellow gold, a thousand, if there be one; o master! the wonderful sight behold in the radiant light of the sun." the peasant lifted his tear-dimmed eyes to the shining sheaf o'erhead; "'tis a gift from the loving hand of god, and a miracle wrought," he said. "for the father of all, who reigneth o'er, his children will ne'er forsake, when they feed the birds from their scanty store, for the blessed christ-child's sake." "the fields of kindness bear golden grain," is a proverb true and tried; then scatter thine alms, with lavish hand, to the waiting poor outside; and remember the birds, and the song they sang, when the year rolls round again: "the christ-child came on earth to bless the birds as well as men." --_mrs. a.m. tomlinson._ chapter v. [illustration] yule-tide in russia "light--in the heavens high, and snow flashing bright;-- sledge in the distance in its lonely flight." --_shenshin._ in this enormous kingdom which covers one-sixth of the land surface of the globe, and where upwards of fifteen million human beings celebrate in various ways the great winter festival of yule-tide, it will be found that the people retain many traditions of the sun-worshipers, which shows that the season was once observed in honor of the renewal of the sun's power. with them, however, the sun was supposed to be a _female_, who, when the days began to lengthen, entered her sledge, adorned in her best robes and gorgeous head-dress, and speeded her horses summerward. russian myths indicate a connection with the aryans in the remote past; their songs of the wheel, the log, the pig or boar, all show a common origin in centuries long gone by. russia to most minds is a country of cold, darkness, oppression, and suffering, and this is true to an altogether lamentable extent. but it is also a country of warmth, brightness, freedom, and happiness. in fact, there are so many phases of life among its vast population that descriptions of russian life result about as satisfactorily as did those of saxe's "three blind men of hindustan," who went to see the elephant. each traveler describes the part he sees, just as each blind man described the part he felt, and each believes he knows the whole. there are certain general features of the yule-tide observance that are typical of the country. one is the singing of their ancient _kolyada_ songs, composed centuries ago by writers who are unknown. they may have been sacrificial songs in heathen days, but are now sung with fervor and devotion at christmas time. in some places a maiden dressed in white and drawn on a sledge from house to house represents the goddess of the sun, while her retinue of maidens sing the _kolyada_, or carols. here again appears the ancient custom of gift-making, for the maidens who attend the goddess expect to receive gifts in appreciation of their songs. the word _kolyada_ is of doubtful origin. it may refer to the sun, a wheel, or a sacrifice; there is no telling how, when, or where it originated, but the singing of these songs has been a custom of the people from time immemorial, and after the introduction of christianity it became a part of the christmas festivities. ralston in his "songs of the russian people" gives the following translation of one of these peculiar songs: "kolyada! kolyada! kolyada has arrived. on the eve of the nativity, holy kolyada. through all the courts, in all the alleys, we found kolyada in peter's court. round peter's court there is an iron fence, in the midst of the court there are three rooms, in the first room is the bright moon, in the second room the red sun, and in the third room, the many stars." strangely enough the russians make the moon the _master_ of the mansion above, and the sun the _mistress_, a twist about in the conception of these luminaries worthy of the chinese, and possibly derived from some of russia's eastern invaders. in the above song, the stars, like dutiful children, all wish their luminous parents good _health_, "for many years, for many years." in parts of russia, the virgin mary and birds take the place of the sun and stars in these songs, which are sung throughout the yule season by groups of young folks at social gatherings, or from house to house, and form the leading feature of the christmas festivities. it is hard to realize that the stolid, fur-clad russian is a child of song, for such seem to belong to sunny climes, but throughout his life from the cradle to the grave he is accompanied with song. not modern compositions, for they are quite inferior as a rule, but those melodies composed ages ago and sung repeatedly through generation after generation, usually accompanied with dancing in circles. the _kolyadki_ cover a variety of themes relating to the gods, goddesses, and other celestial beings, to all of whom christian characteristics have been given until they now form the sacred songs of yule-tide. on christmas eve it is customary for the people to fast until after the first service in church. they pray before their respective icons, or sacred pictures, recite psalms, and then all start for the church, where the service is, in most respects, the same as in the roman catholic church. there are many denominations besides the established church of the country that hold services on christmas eve; but to whichever one goes, it is wise to hasten home and to get to bed in season to have a pleasant christmas eve dream, as such is sure to come true, according to russian authority. on _welikikdenj_--christmas--the people partake of an early meal. in some parts of the country it is customary to send extremely formal invitations in the name of the host to the guests who are expected to arrive that day. these are delivered by a special messenger and read somewhat as follows: "my master and mistress beg you to consider, father artanon triphonowitsch, and you, mother agaphia nelidowna, that for thousands of years it has been thus; with us it has not commenced, with us it will not end. do not, therefore, disturb the festival; do not bring the good people to despair. without you there will be no pleasure at philimon spicidonowitsch's, without you there will be no maiden festival at anna karpowna's." [illustration: a christmas bonfire in russia.] who could absent himself after such an invitation as this? the place of meeting has been decided upon weeks earlier, for it must be with a well-to-do family possessing a large home to accommodate the guests that usually assemble at christmas. the "fair maidens," each with her mother and retinue, arrive first on the scene, bringing cake and sweetmeats and gifts for the servants. they would sooner freeze in their sledges before the gate than be guilty of alighting without first receiving the greeting of their host and hostess. having been welcomed, they next pray before the icon, and then are ready for the pleasures arranged for them. one peculiar phase of these house-parties is the selecting of partners for the maidens, which is done by the hostess, the "elected" sometimes proving satisfactory and sometimes not. they feast, play games, go snowballing, and guess riddles, always having a jolly good time. reciters of _builinas_ (poems) are often present to sing and recite the whole night through, for of song and poetry the russian never tires. a pretty custom very generally observed is the blessing of the house and household. the priest visits each home in his district, accompanied by boys bearing a vessel of holy water; the priest sprinkles each room with the water, each person present kissing the cross he carries and receiving his benediction as he proceeds from room to room. thus each home is sanctified for the ensuing year. the familiar greeting of "merry christmas" is not heard in russia unless among foreigners, the usual salutation on this day being "greetings for the lord's birth," to which the one addressed replies, "god be with you." the observance of new year on january first, according to the gregorian calendar, was instituted by peter the great in . the previous evening is known as st. sylvester's eve, and is the time of great fun and enjoyment. according to the poet, vasili andreivich zhukivski: "st. sylvester's evening hour, calls the maidens round; shoes to throw behind the door, delve the snowy ground. peep behind the window there, burning wax to pour; and the corn for chanticleer, reckon three times o'er. in the water-fountain fling solemnly the golden ring earrings, too, of gold; kerchief white must cover them while we're chanting over them magic songs of old." ovsen, a mythological being peculiar to the season, is supposed to make his entry about this time, riding a boar (another indication of aryan descent), and no christmas or new year's dinner is considered complete without pork served in some form. the name of ovsen, being so like the french word for oats, suggests the possibility of this ancient god's supposed influence over the harvests, and the honor paid him at the ingathering feasts in roman times. he is the god of fruitfulness, and on new year's eve russian boys go from house to house scattering oats and other grain while they sing: "in the forest, in the pine forest, there stood a pine tree, green and shaggy. o ovsen! ovsen! the boyars came, cut down the pine, sawed it into planks, built a bridge, covered it with cloth, fastened it with nails, o ovsen! o ovsen! who, who will go along that bridge? ovsen will go there, and the new year, o ovsen! o ovsen!" with this song the young folks endeavor to encourage the people who are about to cross the gulf between the known and the unknown, the past and the future year; at the same time they scatter good seed for them to reap a bountiful harvest. often the boys sing the following kolyadki: "afield, afield, out in the open field! there a golden plough goes ploughing, and behind that plough is the lord himself. holy peter helps him to drive, and the mother of god carries the seed corn, carries the seed corn, prays to the lord god, make, o lord, the strong wheat to grow, the strong wheat and the vigorous corn! the stalks there shall be like reeds! the ears shall be (plentiful) as blades of grass! the sheaves shall be (in number) like the stars! the stacks shall be like hills, the loads shall be gathered together like black clouds." how singularly appropriate it seems that boys, hungry at all times, should be the ones to implore the god of fruitfulness to bestow upon their people an abundant harvest during the coming year! in petrograd the new year is ushered in with a cannonade of one hundred shots fired at midnight. the czar formally receives the good wishes of his subjects, and the streets, which are prettily decorated with flags and lanterns, are alive with people. on new year's day the winter palace is opened to society, as is nearly every home in the city, for at this season, at least, hospitality and charity are freely dispensed from palace and cottage. on sotjelnik, the last of the holidays, the solemn service of blessing the water of the neva is observed. at two o'clock in the afternoon the people who have gathered in crowds at various points along the river witness the ceremony which closes the festivities of yule-tide. at petrograd a dome is erected in front of the winter palace, where in the presence of a vast concourse of people the czar and the high church officials in a grand and impressive manner perform the ceremony. in other places it is customary for the district priest to officiate. clothed in vestments he leads a procession of clergy and villagers, who carry icons and banners and chant as they proceed to the river. they usually leave an open space in their ranks through which all the bad spirits likely to feel antagonistic to the ruler of winter--the frost king--may flee. for water sprites, fairies, gnomes, and other invisibilities, who delight in sunshine and warmth, are forced, through the power of the priest's prayers, and the showering of holy water, to take refuge in a hole that is cut in the ice beside a tall cross, and disappear beneath the cold water of the blessed river. a palm branch from palestine branch of palm from palestine, tell me of thy native place: what fair vale, what steep incline, first thy stately growth did grace? has the sun at dawn caressed thee, that on jordan's waters shone, have the rough night-winds distressed thee as they swept o'er lebanon? and while solym's sons, brought low, plaited thee for humble wages, was it prayer they chanted slow, or some song of ancient ages? as in childhood's first awaking does thy parent-tree still stand, with its full-leaved branches making shadows on the burning sand? or when thou from it wert riven, did it straightway droop and die, till the desert dust was driven on its yellowing leaves to die? say, what pilgrim's pious hand cherished thee in hours of pain, when he to this northern land brought thee, fed with tears like rain? or perchance on some good knight, pure in heart and calm of vision, men bestowed thy garland bright-- fit as he for realms elysian! now preserved with reverent care, at the _ikon's_ gilded shrine, faithful watch thou keepest there, holy palm of palestine. where the lamp burns faint and dim, folded in a mystic calm, near the cross--the sign of him-- rest in safety, sacred palm. --_michael yourievich lermontov._ (_translated by mrs. rosa newmarch._) chapter vi. [illustration] yule-tide in france "i hear along our street pass the minstrel throngs; hark! they play so sweet, on their hautboys, christmas songs!" --_carol._ one would naturally imagine that such a pleasure-loving people as the french would make much of christmas, but instead of this we find that with them, excepting in a few provinces and places remote from cities, it is the least observed of all the holidays. it was once a very gay season, but now paris scarcely recognizes the day excepting in churches. the shops, as in most large cities, display elegant goods, pretty toys, a great variety of sweetmeats, and tastefully trimmed christmas trees, for that wonderful tree is fast spreading over europe, especially wherever the anglo-saxon and teutonic races have settled. confectioners offer a tempting supply of _naulets_--little delicate cakes--with a sugar figure of christ on top, pretty boxes made of chocolate containing candy in the form of fruits, vegetables, musical instruments, and even boots and shoes, and all manner of quaint, artistic sugared devices, to be used as gifts or table decorations. early in december, wooden booths and open-air stands are erected throughout the shopping districts for the sale of christmas goods. at night they are lighted, and through the day and evening they are gay with shoppers. many of the booths contain evergreens and fresh green boughs for making the _arbre de nau._ this is a hoop tied with bunches of green, interspersed with rosy apples, nuts, and highly colored, gaily ornamented eggshells that have been carefully blown for the purpose. the hoops are hung in sitting-rooms or kitchens, but are used more in the country than in the cities. although the cities are filled with yule-tide shoppers and lovely wares, in order to enjoy a veritable merry christmas one must seek some retired town and if possible gain access to a home of ancient date, where the family keep the customs of their ancestors. there he will find the day devoutly and solemnly observed, and legend and superstitions concerning every observance of the day. he will find that great anxiety is evinced regarding the weather during the twelve days preceding christmas, as that portends the state of the weather for the ensuing twelve months. he will notice that unlike the yule-logs of other countries, those of france are _not to be sat on_, for if by any chance a person sits on a yule-log he will experience such pain as will prevent his partaking of the christmas dinner. he will also find that the log has benevolent powers, and if his shoe is left beside it during the night it will be filled with peppermints or candy. the ashes of the log are believed to be a protection against lightning and bad luck, so some will be stored away beneath the bed of the master of the house as a means of procuring good-fortune and other blessings during the coming year, and if he chance to fall sick, some of the ashes will probably be infused into his medicine and given to him. if the log, the _cosse de nau_, is of oak and felled at midnight, it is supposed to be much more efficacious, therefore all who can do so procure an oaken log, at least. in some families where the yule-log is lighted, it is the custom to have it brought into the room by the oldest and youngest members of the family. the oldest member is expected to pour three libations of wine upon the log while voicing an invocation in behalf of wealth, health, and general good-fortune for the household, after which the youngest member, be he a few days or a few months old, drinks to the newly lighted fire,--the emblem of the new light of another year. each member present follows the example set by the youngest, and drinks to the new light. yule-tide in france begins on st. barbar's day, december fourth, when it is customary to plant grain in little dishes of earth for this saint's use as a means of informing her devotees what manner of crops to expect during the forthcoming year. if the grain comes up and is flourishing at christmas, the crops will be abundant. each dish of fresh, green grain is used for a centerpiece on the dinner-table. for several days previous to christmas, children go into the woods and fields to gather laurel, holly, bright berries, and pretty lichens with which to build the _crèche_, their tribute in commemoration of the birth of christ. it is a representation of the holy manger, which the little folks build on a table in the corner of the living-room. with bits of stones they form a hill, partly covering the rocky surface with green and sometimes sprinkling it with flour to produce the effect of snow. on and about the hill they arrange tiny figures of men and beasts, and above the summit they suspend a bright star, a white dove, or a gilded figure of jehovah. [illustration: a christmas tree in paris.] after the ceremony of lighting the yule-log on christmas eve, the children light up the _crèche_ with small candles, often tri-colored in honor of the trinity. throughout the work of gathering the material and making and lighting the _crèche_, they sing carols in praise of the little jesus. in fact young and old accompany their yule-tide labors with carols, such as their parents and grandparents sang before them,--the famous noëls of the country. the children continue to light their _crèche_ each night until epiphany, the family gathering around and joining in singing one or more of the well-known noëls, for "shepherds at the grange, where the babe was born, sang, with many a change, christmas carols until morn. let us by the fire ever higher sing them till the night expires." on the eve of epiphany the children all march forth to meet the magi, who are yearly expected, but who yearly disappoint the waiting ones. the custom of hanging sheaves of wheat to the eaves of the houses for the birds' christmas, so commonly observed throughout the cooler countries, is also observed by the children of france, and the animals are given especial care and attention at this joyous season. each house-cat is given all it can eat on christmas eve for if, by any chance, it mews, bad luck is sure to follow. of course a great deal is done for the poorer class at christmas; food, clothing, and useful gifts are liberally bestowed, and so far as it is possible, the season is one of good will and good cheer for all. if the french still hold to many of the christmas customs bequeathed them by their aryan ancestors, new year's day shows the influence of their roman conquerors, for a combination of northern and southern customs is noticeable on that occasion. each public official takes his seat of office on that day, after the manner of the romans. family feasting, exchanging of gifts among friends, and merrymaking are features of new year's day rather than of christmas in france, although children delight in placing their _sabots_, or shoes, on the hearth for the christ-child to fill with gifts on christmas eve. in early times new year's day was the occasion of the festival of fools, when the wildest hilarity prevailed, and for upward of two hundred and forty years that custom continued in favor. now christmas is essentially the church festival; new year's day is the social festival, and epiphany is the oldest festival observed during yule-tide in france. the latter festival is derived from the roman saturnalia, the main feature of the celebration being lawlessness and wild fun. many of the features of former times are no longer in vogue, but the twelfth-night supper still continues in favor, when songs, toasts, and a general good time finishes the holiday season. december is really the month of song in france. from the first to the last every one who can utter a sound is singing, singing, singing. strolling musicians go from house to house playing and singing noëls, and old and young of all classes in society, at home and abroad, on their way to church or to market, at work or at play, may be heard singing these fascinating carols. noël signifies "good news," and it has been the greeting of the season since the earliest observance of christmas. the word is on every tongue; salutations, invocations, and songs begin and end with it. carols peculiarly adapted to the day or season in time came to be known as noëls, and these songs are to be heard everywhere in france during the holidays of yule-tide. christmas song "our psalm of joy to god ascending filleth our souls with holy fame. this day the saviour child was born, dark was the night that now is ending, but on the dawn were angels tending. hail! christmas, hail! christmas morn. "in faith we see thee, virgin mother, still clasp thy son, and in his eyes seek heaven's own light that in them lies. though narrow shed his might confineth, though low in manger he reclineth, bright on his brow a glory shineth. "oh, saviour king! hear when we call thee, oh, lord of angels, glorious the song, the song thy ransom'd people raise, would that our hearts from sin and sorrow and earthly bondage now might sever. with thee, lord, reign forever and ever." chapter vii. [illustration] yule-tide in italy "o'er mournful lands and bare, without a sound, gently, in broadening flakes, descends the snow in velvet layers. beneath its pallid glow, silent, immaculate, all earth is bound." -_edmondo de amicis._ italy! the land of dante, petrarch, bocaccio, raphael, michelangelo, and a host of other shining lights in literature and art! can we imagine any one of them as a boy watching eagerly for christmas to arrive; saving up money for weeks to purchase some coveted dainty of the season; rushing through crowded streets on christmas eve to view the bambino, and possibly have an opportunity to kiss its pretty bare toe? how strange it all seems! yet boys to-day probably do many of the same things they did in the long ago during the observance of this holy season in historic, artistic italy. in november, while flowers are yet in bloom, preparations are begun for the coming festivities. city streets and shops are crowded with christmas shoppers, for beside all the gifts that are purchased by the italians, there are those bought by travelers and foreign residents to be sent to loved ones at home, or to be used in their own observance of the day, which is usually after the manner of their respective countries. so shopping is lively from about the first of november until after the new year. the principal streets are full of carriages, the shops are full of the choicest wares, and it is to be hoped that the pocketbooks are full of money wherewith to purchase the beautiful articles displayed. during the _novena_, or eight days preceding christmas, in some provinces shepherds go from house to house inquiring if christmas is to be kept there. if it is, they leave a wooden spoon to mark the place, and later bring their bagpipes or other musical instruments and play before it, singing one of the sweet nativity songs, of which the following is a favorite. "for ever hallow'd be the night when christ was born, for then the saints did see the holy star of morn. so anastasius and st. joseph old they did that blessed sight behold." _chorus_: (in which all present join) "when father, son and holy ghost unite that man may saved be." it is expected that those who have a _presepio_ are ready by this time to receive guests to pray before it and strolling musicians to sing before it, for the _presepio_ is the principal feature of an italian christmas. it is made as expensive as its owner can afford, and sometimes much more so. it is a miniature representation of the birthplace of christ, showing the holy family--joseph, mary, and the infant jesus in the manger--or, more frequently, the manger awaiting the infant. this is a doll that is brought in later, around that each person in the room may pray before it, and is then solemnly deposited in the manger. there are angels, and other figures several inches high, carved in wood--usually sycamore,--prettily colored and introduced to please the owner's taste; the whole is artistically arranged to represent the scene at bethlehem which the season commemorates. when the festivities cease the _presepio_ is taken apart and carefully stored away for use another year. during the novena, children go about reciting christmas pieces, receiving money from those who gather around them to listen, and later they spend their earnings in buying eels or some other substantial delicacy of the season. the _céppo_, or yule-log, is lighted at two o'clock the day previous to christmas, on the kitchen hearth in provinces where it is sufficiently cold to have a hearth, and fires are lighted in other rooms, for here as elsewhere fire and light are necessary adjuncts of christmas. during the twenty-four hours preceding christmas eve a rigid fast is observed, and there is an absence of christmas cheer in the atmosphere, for the season is strictly a religious one rather than of a social nature like that of northern countries. at early twilight candles are lighted around the _presepio_, and the little folks recite before it some poem suitable for the occasion. then follows the banquet, made as elaborate as possible. the menu varies in different parts of the country, but in every part fish forms an important item of food. in many places a capon stuffed with chestnuts is considered indispensable, and the family purse is often stretched to its utmost to provide this luxury, yet rich and poor deem this one article of food absolutely necessary on this occasion. macaroni is of course the ever-present dish on all occasions throughout the country, and various sweetmeats are abundantly provided. then comes the drawing of presents from the _urn of fate_, a custom common to many countries. as the parcels are interspersed with blanks, the drawing from the urn creates much excitement and no little disappointment among the children, who do not always understand that there will be a gift for each one notwithstanding the blanks. there is no evergreen used in either church or home trimmings, but flowers, natural or artificial, are used instead. soon after nine o'clock the people, young and old, leave their homes for some church in which the christmas eve services begin by ten o'clock. [illustration: a game of loto on christmas evening in naples.] bright holly-berries, sweet violets, stately chrysanthemums, and pretty olive-trees bedecked with oranges,--such as are bought by those accustomed to having a christmas tree,--are displayed in shops and along the streets, nearly all of which are hung with bright lanterns. the people carry flaming torches to add to the general brightness of the evening, and in some cities fireworks are set off. from their sun-worshiping aryan ancestors italy derives the custom of burning the _céppo_, the love of light and fire, and many other customs. a few of these may be traced to roman influence. unfortunately many, very many, of the old customs, once so generally observed throughout italy, are now passing out of use. during the past few years several benevolent societies have distributed presents among the poor and needy at christmas time, an event that is known as the _albero di natale_--the tree of nativity,--but little boys and girls of italy do not yet know the delight of having a real christmas tree hung with lovely gifts, such as we have in america. at sunset on christmas eve the booming of cannon from the castle of st. angelo announces the beginning of the holy season. papal banners are displayed from the castle, and crowds wend their way toward st. peter's, the object of every one's desire who is so fortunate as to be in rome at this season, for there the service is the most magnificent in the world. every roman catholic church is crowded on holy night with men, women, and children, anxious to see the procession of church officials in their beautiful robes, who carry the _bambino_ about the church for the worshipers to behold and kiss its robes or its toe. the larger the church the more beautiful the sight generally, although to a protestant beholder the smaller churches with their enforced simplicity often prove more satisfactory to the spirit of worship. but whether the officials are clothed in scarlet robes, ermine capes, and purple cassocks, and the walls covered with silken hangings of gold and crimson, with thousands of wax tapers lighted, and real flowers adorning the altar and organ pipes; whether the madonna on the left of the altar is attired in satin and gleaming with precious jewels, and the _presepio_ on the right is a marvel of elegance, with the bambino wrapped in gold and silver tissue studded with jewels; or whether all is of an humble, simple character; the devout watch eagerly for the appearance of the babe to be laid in the manger when the midnight bells peal forth the glad tidings of its birth. in each church the organ sounds its joyous accompaniment to the sweet voices of the choir which sings the magnificat. the music is in itself a rare treat to listeners as it is always the best, the very best that can be procured. at two o'clock on christmas morning the shepherds' hymn is chanted, and at five o'clock the first high mass is held. in some of the larger churches solemn vespers are held christmas afternoon, when the holy cradle is carried around among the audience. at st. peter's it is required that all the men present shall wear dress-suits and that the women be clothed in black, which offsets the brilliancy of the robes worn by the church officials, for even the guards on duty are in elegant red and white uniforms. about ten o'clock in the evening a procession of monks, priests, bishops, and cardinals, walking two and two, enters the vast building just as the great choir of male voices with organ accompaniment sounds forth the magnificat. the procession is long, glowing in color, and very attractive to the eye, but the object of each romanist's desire is to see the pope, who, in magnificent robes, and seated in his crimson chair, is borne aloft on the shoulders of four men clothed in violet. on the pope's head gleams his richly gemmed tiara and his heavy robes sparkle with costly jewels. waving in front of his eminence are two huge fans of white ostrich feathers set with eyes of peacock feathers, to signify the purity and watchfulness of this highest of church functionaries. before his holiness march the sixty roman noblemen, his guard of honor, who form his escort at all church festivals, while cardinals, bishops, and others, according to their rank, march beside him, or near at hand. with his thumb and two fingers extended in recognition of the trinity, and at the same time showing the ring of st. peter which he always wears, the pope, followed by the ecclesiastic procession, passes down the nave between the files of soldiers, blessing the people as he goes. upon reaching the altar the pope is escorted to an elevated seat while the choir sings the psalm of entrance. later, at the elevation of the host, the cannon of st. angelo (the citadel of rome, which was built in the time of the emperor hadrian) booms forth and every roman catholic bows his head in prayer, wheresoever he may be. at the close of the service the gorgeous procession is again formed and the pope is carried out of the church, blessing the multitude as he passes. new year is the great social feature of yule-tide in italy. visits and some presents are exchanged among friends, dinner parties, receptions, and fêtes of all kinds are in order, but all interest centers in the church observances until epiphany, or _bafana_, as italians term it, when children hang up their stockings, _céppo_ boxes are exchanged, and people indulge in home pleasures to some extent. the wild hilarity of the saturnalian festivities of former times is fast dying out, for the growth of cities and towns has not proved conducive to such observances, and only in the smaller places is anything of the sort observed. yule-tide in italy at the present day is principally a church festival. the eve of christmas ( ) cometh the yearly feast, the wonderous holy night, worthy of sacred hymn and solemn rite. no harbingers of joy the olden message sing, nor gifts of peace to waiting mortals bring. alone the thronging hosts of evil men i hear, and see the anxious brow and falling tear. the age will bear no yoke; forgets the god above, nor duteous payment yields to parents' love. suspicious discord rends the peaceful state in twain, and busy murder follows in her train. gone are the loyal faith, the rights revered of old-- reigns but a blind and cruel lust of gold! o come, thou holy child! pity the fallen world, lest it should perish, into darkness hurled. out of the laboring night grant it a newer birth, and a new age to bloom o'er all the earth. circle with splendors old the brow of faith divine; let her full glory on the nations shine. nerve her to battlings new; palsy her foes with dread; place the victorious laurel on her head. be error's mist dissolved, and ancient feuds repressed, till earth at last find quietude and rest. o gentle peace, return nor evermore depart; and link us hand in hand and heart to heart! --_pope leo xiii._ _(translated by h. t. henry.)_ chapter viii. [illustration] yule-tide in spain "with antics and with fooleries, with shouting and with laughter, they fill the streets of burgos--and the devil he comes after." in spain, the land of romance and song, of frost and flowers, where at yule-tide the mountains wear a mantle of pure white snow while flowers bloom gaily in field and garden, the season's observance approaches more nearly than in any other country to the old roman saturnalia. the celts who taught the spaniards the love of ballads and song left some traces of the sun-worshipers' traditions, but they are few in comparison with those of other european countries. spain is a land apparently out of the line of wodin's travel and influence, where one looks in vain for the mysterious mistletoe, the pretty holly, and the joyful christmas tree. the season is rigidly observed in churches, but otherwise it loses its spirit of devotion in that of wild revelry. music, mirth, and hilarity are the leading features of the occasion, and home and family pleasures are secondary affairs. of course the customs vary in different provinces, some of which still cling to primitive forms of observance while others are fast adopting those of foreign residents and becoming continental in style. but everywhere throughout the land christmas is the day of days,--the great church festival observed by all. the _noche-buena_ or good night, preceding christmas, finds the shops gay with sweets and fancy goods suitable for holiday wear, but not with the pretty gifts such as circulate from home to home in northern countries, for here gifts are not generally exchanged. doctors, ministers, and landlords receive their yearly gifts of turkeys, cakes, and produce from their dependents, but the love of presenting dainty christmas gifts has not reached the land of the three c's--the cid, cervantes, and columbus. [illustration: christmas festivity in seville.] do you know what you would probably do if you were a dark-cheeked spanish lad named miguel, or a bright-eyed, light-hearted spanish maiden named dolores? if you were miguel you would don your black jacket and brown trousers, knot your gayest kerchief around your neck, and with your guitar in hand you would hasten forth to enjoy the fun that prevails in every street of every town in spain on christmas eve, or, as it is known there, the _noche-buena._ if you were pretty dolores you would surely wear your red or yellow skirt, or else of striped red and yellow, your best embroidered velvet jacket,--handed down from mother to daughter, and a wonderful sample of the handiwork that once made the country famous,--your numerous necklaces and other ornaments. you would carefully braid your heavy dark tresses and bedeck your shapely head with bright flowers, then with your _panderetta_ or tambourine in hand, you too would join the merry throng that fill the air with mirthful songs and music on _noche-buena_; for remember, "this is the eve of christmas, no sleep from now till morn." the air is full of the spirit of unrest, castanets click joyously, tambourines jingle their silvery strains, while guitars and other musical instruments help to swell the babel of sound preceding the hour of the midnight mass: "at twelve will the child be born," and if you have not already done some especially good deed to some fellow mortal, you will hasten to clear your conscience by such an act before the bells announce the hour of its birth. as the stars appear in the heavens, tiny oil lamps are lighted in every house, and among all devout roman catholics the image of the virgin is illuminated with a taper. the streets, which in many cities are brilliantly lighted with electricity, are crowded with turkeys awaiting purchasers. they are great fat birds that have been brought in from the country and together with quacking ducks and cooing pigeons help to swell the sounds that fill the clear, balmy air. streets and market-places are crowded with live stock, while every other available spot is piled high with delicious fruit;--golden oranges, sober-hued dates, and indispensable olives; and scattered among these are cheeses of all shapes and kinds, sweetmeats of all sorts, the choice candies that are brought from various provinces, and quaint pigskins of wine. no wonder every one who can do so hurries forth into the street on _noche-buena._ if you are not tempted to stop and gaze at these appetizing exhibits, you will pass quickly on to the brightly lighted booths devoted to toys. oh, what a feast for young eyes! here yours will surely light on some coveted treasure. it may be an ordinary toy, a drum, a horn, or it may be a holy manger, shepherds, the wise men, or even a star of the east. it is hard to keep one's purse closed among such a surfeit of tempting articles, and everywhere money flows freely from hand to hand, although the spanish are usually very frugal. as the bells clang out the hour of midnight, you will hurry to join the throng wending its way to the nearest church, where priests in their gorgeous robes,--some of them worn only on this occasion and precious with rare embroidery and valuable jewels,--perform the midnight or cock-crow mass, and where the choir and the priests chant a sweet christmas hymn together. what if it is late when the service ends? christmas eve without dancing is not to be thought of in spain. so you go forth to find a group of gipsy dancers who are always on hand to participate in this great festival; or you watch the graceful spanish maiden in her fluffy skirts of lace, with her deep pointed bodice, a bright flower in her coal-black hair beside the tall comb, and her exquisitely shaped arms adorned with heavy bracelets. "oh, what magnificent eyes! what exquisite long lashes!" you exclaim to yourself. see her poise an instant with the grace of a sylph, one slippered foot just touching the floor, then click, click, sound the castanets, as they have sounded for upwards of two thousand years and are likely to do for two thousand more, for their inspiriting click seems necessary to move spanish feet and give grace to the uplifted arms. at first she may favor you with the energetic _fandango_, or the butterfly-like _bolero_, but on christmas eve the _jota_ is the universal favorite. it is danced and sung to music which has been brought down to the present time unwritten, and which was passed from mouth to mouth through many generations. translated the words read: "of jesus the nativity is celebrated everywhere, everywhere reigns contentment, everywhere reigns pleasure," the audience joining in the refrain: "long live merrymaking, for this is a day of rejoicing, and may the perfume of pleasure sweeten our existence." it will probably be late into the morning before the singing, dancing, thought-less crowd turns homeward to rest, and although it is certainly a crowd intoxicated with pleasure, it is never in that condition from liquor. there are three masses on christmas day, and all devout catholics attend one of them at least, if not all. in some places nativity plays are given on christmas eve or else on christmas day. they are long performances, but never tedious to the audiences, because the scenes appeal to them with the force of absolute realism. on christmas morning the postmen, telegraph boys, and employees of various vocations, present to their employers and others little leaflets containing a verse appropriate to the day, or the single sentence "a happy christmas," expecting to receive in return a christmas box filled with goodies of some kind. while spanish children do not have the christmas tree to gather around they do have the pretty _nacimiento_, made of plaster and representing the place of christ's nativity, with the manger, tiny men and women, trees, and animals, such as are supposed to have existed at the time and place of the nativity. the _nacimiento_ (meaning being born) is lighted with candles, and little folks dance gayly around it to the music of tambourines and their own sweet voices, joyously singing one of the pretty nativity songs. groups of children go about the streets singing these songs of which there are many. in this pleasing custom of the _nacimiento_ one sees a vestige of the saturnalia, for during that festival small earthenware figures used to be for sale for the pleasure of children. although the spanish race is a mixed one and various peoples have been in power from time to time, at one period the country was, with the exception of basque, entirely romanized. it is interesting to note the lingering influence of this mighty roman nation and find in this century that some of the main features of the great roman feast are retained in the great christian feast at yule-tide. southern races were always firm believers in fate. the mohammedans reverenced the tree of fate, but the romans held sacred the _urn_ containing the messages of fate. so the spaniards cling to the urn, from which at christmas gatherings of friends it is the custom to draw the names of the men and women whom fate ordains shall be devoted friends during the year,--the men performing all the duties of lovers. this drawing of one's fate for the coming year creates great merriment and often no little disappointment. but fate is inexorable and what is to be must be, so the spanish maiden accepts graciously the one fate thus assigns her. after the midday breakfast on christmas morning the people usually seek out-of-door pleasures. among many of the old families only blood relations are expected to eat and drink together on this holy day. ordinarily the spaniard "may find perfect entertainment in a crust of bread and a bit of garlic" as the proverb claims, but at yule-tide his stomach demands many delicacies peculiar to the season. the _puchero olla_, the national dish for dinner, must have a few extra ingredients added on this occasion. the usual compound of chickens, capons, bacon, mutton, beef, pig's feet, lard, garlic, and everything else the larder affords, is quite insufficient to be boiled together on this occasion. however, if one has no relatives to invite him to a feast, it is an easy matter to secure a christmas dinner on the streets, where men are ready to cook for him over their _braseros_ of charcoal and venders are near at hand to offer preserved fruits, the famous almond rock, almond soup, truffled turkey, or the most desirable of the season's delicacies,--sea-bream, which is brought from cadiz especially for christmas use, and which is eaten at christmas in accordance with the old-time custom. nuts of all kinds are abundant. by the side of the streets, venders of chestnuts--the finest in the world--lean against their clumsy two-wheeled carts, picturesque in costumes that are ragged and soiled from long service. rich layer-cakes of preserves, having almond icing with fruits and liquor-filled ornaments of sugar on top, are frequently sent from friend to friend for dinner. in seville, and possibly in other places, the people hurry to the cathedral early in the afternoon in order to secure good places before the high altar from which to view the _siexes_, or dances. yes, dances! this ceremony takes place about five o'clock just as the daylight fades and night draws near. ten choristers and dancers, indiscriminately termed _siexes_, appear before the altar clad in the costume of seventeenth-century pages, and reverently and with great earnestness sing and dance an old-time minuet, with castanet accompaniment, of course. the opening song is in honor of the virgin, beginning: "hail, o virgin, most pure and beautiful." among the ancients dancing was a part of religious services, but it is now seldom seen in churches. this christmas dance, given in a beautiful cathedral just at the close of day, is a very impressive ceremony and forms a fitting close to the spanish christmas, which is so largely made up of customs peculiar to ancient and modern races. in every part of spain song and dance form an important part of the festivities of yule-tide, which lasts two weeks, although the laboring class observe but two days of pleasure. at the palace the king holds a reception on new year's, not for the public generally, but for the diplomats and grandees. the higher circles of society observe new year as a time of exchanging calls and visiting, feasting and merrymaking. at the banquets of the wealthy every possible delicacy in the way of food is temptingly displayed, and great elegance in dress indulged in by the ladies, who wear their finest gowns and adorn themselves in priceless jewels and rare laces. but there is so much etiquette to be observed among this class of spaniards that one looks for the real enjoyment of the season among the common classes. in some parts of spain bull-fights are given as late as december, but cold weather has a softening effect on the poor bulls and makes them less ferocious, so unless the season proves unusually warm that favorite entertainment has to be abandoned for a time. meanwhile in the streets and homes one may often see a father on all fours enacting the infuriated bull for his little sons to attack; in this way he teaches them the envied art of bull-fighting. the yule-tide festivities end at twelfth day,--epiphany,--when crowds of young folks go from gate to gate in the cities to meet the magi, and after much merriment they come to the conclusion that the magi will not appear until the following year. night of marvels in such a marvelous night; so fair and full of wonder, strange and new, ye shepherds of the vale, declare-- who saw the greatest wonder? who? (_first shepherd_) i saw the trembling fire look wan; (_second shepherd_) i saw the sun shed tears of blood; (_third shepherd_) i saw a god become a man; (_fourth shepherd_) i saw a man become a god. o, wondrous marvels! at the thought, the bosom's awe and reverence move; but who such prodigies hath wrought? what gave such wondrous birth? 'twas love! what called from heaven the flame divine, which streams in glory far above, and bid it o'er earth's bosom shine, and bless us with its brightness? love! who bid the glorious sun arrest his course, and o'er heaven's concave move in tears,--the saddest, loneliest, of the celestial orbs? 'twas love! who raised the human race so high, e'en to the starry seats above, that, for our mortal progeny, a man became a god? 'twas love! who humbled from the seats of light their lord, all human woes to prove, led the great source of day to night, and made of god a man? 'twas love! yes! love has wrought, and love alone, the victories all,--beneath, above: and heaven and earth shall shout as one, the all-triumphant song of love. the song through all heaven's arches ran, and told the wondrous tales aloud, the trembling fire that looked so wan, the weeping sun behind the cloud, a god, a god become a man! a mortal man become a god. --_violante do ceo._ chapter ix. [illustration] yule-tide in america "and they who do their souls no wrong, but keep, at eve, the faith of morn. shall daily hear the angel-song, 'to-day the prince of peace is born.'" --_james russell lowell._ to people who go into a new country to live, christmas, which is so generally a family day, must of necessity be a lonely, homesick one. they carry with them the memory of happy customs, of loved ones far away, and of observances which can never be held again. so many of the earliest christmasses in america were peculiarly sad ones to the various groups of settlers; most especially was this the case with the first christmas ever spent by europeans in the new world. the intrepid mariner, christopher columbus, entered the port of bohio, in the island of hayti, on st. nicholas day, december , , and in honor of the day named that port saint nicholas. the _pinta_ with her crew had parted from the others and gone her own way, so the _santa maria_ and the _niña_ sailed on together, occasionally stopping where the port seemed inviting. while in one of these, columbus heard of rich mines not far distant and started for them. the admiral and his men were tired from continued watching, and as the sea was smooth and the wind favorable, they went to sleep leaving the ship in care of a boy. who he was no one knows, but he was evidently the first christian boy to pass a christmas eve on this continent,--and a sad one it was for him. the ship struck a sand-bank and settled, a complete wreck, in the waters of the new world. fortunately no lives were lost, and the wreckage furnished material for the building of a fortress which occupied the men's time during the remainder of the yule-tide. the _niña_ was too small to accommodate two crews, therefore on christmas day many of the men were wondering who were to stay on that far-away island among the strange looking natives of whom they knew nothing. the chief of guarico (petit anse), whom columbus was on his way to visit at the time of the disaster, sent a fleet of canoes to the assistance of the strangers, and did what he could to make them happy during the day. the spaniards and the natives worked until dawn on christmas morning, bringing ashore what they could secure from the wreck, and storing it away on the island for future use. strange to relate, they succeeded in saving all of their provisions, the spars, and even many of the nails of the wrecked _santa maria._ but what a christmas morning for columbus and his men, stranded on an island far, far from home, among a strange people! there were no festivities to be observed by that sad, care-worn company of three hundred men on that day, but the following morning chief guacanagari visited the _niña_ and took columbus ashore, where a banquet was prepared in his honor, the first public function attended by columbus in america. it can be pictured only in imagination. there on that beautiful island which seemed to them a paradise on earth, with tall trees waving their long fronds in the warm breeze, with myriads of birds such as they had never seen filling the air with song, columbus stood, attired in his gorgeous uniform and dignified, as it befitted him to be, beside his host who was elegantly dressed in a _shirt_ and _a pair of gloves_ which columbus had given him, with a coronet of gold on his head. the visiting chieftains with gold coronets moved about in nature's garb, among the "thousand,"--more or less,--who were present as guests. the feast consisted of shrimps, cassavi,--the same as the native bread of to-day,--and some of their nutritive roots. it was not a sumptuous repast although it may have been a bountiful one, yet they probably enjoyed it. the work of building a fortress began at once. within ten days the fortress of navidad was completed. it stood on a hill and was surrounded with a broad, deep ditch for protection against natives and animals, and was to be the home of those of the company who remained in the new world, for the _niña_ was too small to convey all hands across the ocean to spain, and nothing had been heard of the _pinta._ leaving biscuits sufficient for a year's supply, wine, and such provisions as could be spared, columbus bade farewell to the forty men whom he was never to see again, and sailed for the old world on january , . so far as recorded, columbus was the only one among the spaniards who received gifts during this first yule-tide in america. but what seemed a cruel fate to him was the means of bestowing a valuable gift upon the world. had the _santa maria_ continued her course in safety that christmas eve there might never have been a fortress or any european settlement founded. so, although it was a sad, troubled yule-tide to the spanish adventurers, it proved a memorable one in the annals of america. four hundred years later the anchor of the _santa maria_ was discovered and brought to the united states to be one of its treasured exhibits at the great columbian exposition, where a descendant of columbus was the honored guest of the government. one hundred and fifty years after the building of the fortress of navidad, after many ineffectual attempts, a settlement was effected in the new world by a colony from england. they sailed from blackwell, on the thames, on december , , and for six weeks were "knocking about in sight of england." their first christmas was spent within sight of their old homes. according to captain john smith's account, "it was, indeed, but a sorry christmas that we spent on board," as many of them were very sick, yet smith adds, "we made the best cheer we could." the colonists landed and solemnly founded jamestown on may , . that year yule-tide was spent by captain smith among the powhatan indians, by whom he was taken captive. this colony consisted of men only; no genuine christmas observance could take place without women and children, and no women arrived until , and then only twenty came. but after the ninety young women arrived in , supplied to planters for one hundred pounds of tobacco each, and a cargo of twenty negroes had landed to help with the work, there may have been an attempt at keeping christmas although there is no record of the fact. at this season there was usually a raid made upon the indians. smith's last expedition against them was at christmastime, when, as he records in his journal, "the extreme winde, rayne, frost, and snow caused us to keep christmas among the salvages where we weere never more merry, nor fed on more plenty of good oysters, fish, flesh, wild fowl and good bread, nor never had better fires in england." in after years prosperity smiled on the land of the jamestown settlers. amidst the peace and plenty that followed the earlier years of strife and poverty, the virginians became noted for their hospitality and lavish observance of yule-tide. it was the happy home-coming for daughters, sons, uncles, aunts, and cousins of the first, second, and even the third degree. for whosoever was of the name and lineage, whether rich or poor, was welcomed at this annual ingathering of the family. every house was filled to overflowing; great hickory fires were lighted on the open hearths; the rooms were brilliantly lighted with candles, and profusely trimmed with greens. from doors and ceilings were hung sprigs of the mysterious mistletoe, for "o'er the lover i'll shake the berry'd mistletoe; that he may long remember christmas," was the thought of merry maidens as they decorated their homes. christmas brought carriage-loads of guests to these old-time homes, to partake of the good cheer and enjoy weeks of fun and frolic, indoors and out. for many days before christmas arrived, colored cooks, the regular, and extra ones, were busy cooking from morning till evening, preparing for the occasion. the storerooms were replete with every variety of tempting food the ingenious minds of the cooks could devise, for christmas dinner was the one great test of their ability and woe to auntie whose fire was too hot, or whose judgment was at fault on this occasion. [illustration: lighting the yule-log in colonial days.] to the whites and blacks christmas was a season of peace, plenty, and merriment. in the "great house" and in the cabin there were music, dancing, and games until new year. this was "hiring day," and among the blacks joy was turned to sadness as husbands, fathers, brothers, and lovers were taken away to work on distant plantations, for those who hired extra help through the year were often extremely cruel in their treatment of the slaves. the gladsome virginia christmas in time became the typical one of the south, where it was the red-letter day of the year, the most joyous of all holidays. the churches were lovingly and tastefully decorated with boughs of green and flowers by the ladies themselves and conscientiously attended by both old and young. in the south there was never any of the somberness that attended church services in the north among descendants of the plymouth colony who came to america later. the puritans of england early discountenanced the observance of christmas. but among the pilgrims who reached the american coast in december, , were mothers who had lived so long in holland they loved the old-time custom of making merry on that day. to these dear women, and to the kind-hearted, child-loving elder brewster, we are indebted for the first observance of the day held by the plymouth colony. according to the journal of william bradford, kept for so many years, the pilgrims went ashore, "and ye day (dec.) begane to erecte ye first house for comone use to receive them and their goods." bradford conscientiously refrains from alluding to the day as christmas, but descendants of these godly puritans are glad to learn that home-making in new england was begun on christmas day. many very interesting stories have been written about this first christmas. one writer even pictures the more lenient elder brewster as going ashore that morning and inviting the indian chief massasoit to go aboard the _mayflower_ with him. according to the story, the good man endeavored to impress the chief with the solemnity and significance of the occasion, and then with massasoit, two squaws, and six boys and girls, becomingly attired in paint and feathers, he returned to the ship. the women and children from over the sea met their new neighbors and guests, received from them little baskets of nuts and wintergreen berries, and in exchange gave their guests beads, toys, raisins, and such simple gifts, to which elder brewster added a blessing bestowed upon each child. the story reads well. but the truth, according to history, makes the first visit of massasoit occur some three months later, on march twenty-second. the puritans had a happy christmas dinner together on board the ship which was the only home they possessed as yet, and it is to be presumed that the exceedingly conscientious non-observers of the day partook quite as freely of the salt fish, bacon, brussels sprouts, gooseberry tarts, and english plum pudding, as did those homesick, tear-choked women who prepared the dinner. it is certainly to be regretted that vessels are no longer built with the wonderful storage capacity of the _mayflower_! beside bringing over the innumerable _family relics_ that are treasured throughout this country, it is stated that this ship brought a barrel full of ivy, holly, laurel, and immortelles, with which the table was decorated, and wreaths woven for the children to wear. bless those dear, brave women who dared to bring "green stuff" for "heathenish decorations" way across the ocean! let us add a few extra sprays of green each christmas in memory of them. the greens, plum puddings, and other good things had such a happy effect that, according to bradford, "at night the master caused us to have some beere." this was an event worthy of a capital b, as the men had worked all day in the biting cold at house-building, with only a scanty supply of water to drink. alas! that christmas on the _mayflower_ was the last the pilgrims were to enjoy for many a long year. other ship-loads of people arrived during the year and in , "one ye day called christmas day, ye gov. called them out to worke (as was used), but ye most of this new company excused themselves and said it wente against their consciences to work on yt day. so ye gov. tould them that if they made it mater of conscience, he would spare them till they were better informed. so he led away ye rest and left them, but when they came home at noone from their worke, he found them in ye streete at play, openly, some pitching ye bair, and some at stoole-ball, and shuch-like sports. so he went to them and tooke away their implements, and tould them that was against his conscience, that they should play and others worke. if they made ye keeping of it mater of devotion, let them kepe their houses, but ther should be no gameing or revelling in ye streets. since which time nothing had been attempted that way, at least openly." and thus ended the last attempt at christmas observance during governor bradford's many terms of office. the massachusetts colony that arrived in , and settled in and around boston, believed that christ's mission on earth as the saviour of man was too serious a one to be celebrated by the fallen race. he came to save; they considered it absolutely wicked for any one to be lively and joyous when he could not know whether or no he was doomed to everlasting punishment. beside that, jollity often led to serious results. were not the jails of old england full to repletion the day after christmas? it was wisest, they thought, to let the day pass unnoticed. and so only occasionally did any one venture to remember the fact of its occurrence. among the men and women who came across the ocean during succeeding years there must have been many who differed from the first colony in regard to christmas, for in may, , the general court of massachusetts deemed it necessary to enact a law: "that whosoever shall be found observing any such day as christmas or the like, either by forbearing of labour, feasting, or any other way, upon any such accounts as aforesaid, shall be subjected to a fine of five shillings." for upward of twenty-two years it remained unlawful in massachusetts to have a merry christmas. there were no pretty gifts on that day to make happy little god-be-thanked, search-the-scriptures, seek-wisdom, prudence, hope, or charity. however, santa claus had emissaries abroad in the land. in december, , governor andros, an episcopalian, and a representative of the king, brought about the first concession in favor of the day. he believed in celebrating christmas and intended to hold appropriate services. the law enacted by parliament in june, , abolishing the observance of the day, had been repealed in , and gov. andros knew he had the law in his favor. but every meeting-house was conscientiously (or stubbornly) closed to him. so he was forced to hold service in the town house, going with an armed soldier on each side to protect him from the "good will" exhibited by his fellow townsmen. he held services that day, and it is believed to be the first observance of christmas held under legal sanction in boston. the great concession was made by the old south congregation in when it offered its sanctuary to the worshipers in king's chapel, after that edifice was burned, for them to hold their christmas services. it was with the implicit understanding that there was to be no spruce, holly, or other greens used on that occasion to desecrate their meeting-house. little by little the day was brought into favor as a holiday, but it was as late as the year , while nathaniel p. banks was governor, that the day was made a legal holiday in massachusetts. the good dutch fathers, true to the teachings of their forefathers, sailed for the new world with the image of st. nicholas for a figurehead on their vessel. they named the first church they built for the much-loved st. nicholas and made him patron saint of the new city on manhattan island. thanks, many many thanks, to these sturdy old dutchmen with unpronounceable names who preserved to posterity so many delightful customs of christmas observance. what should we have done without them? they were quite a worthy people notwithstanding they believed in enjoying life and meeting together for gossip and merrymaking. christmas was a joyful season with them. the churches and quaint gabled houses were trimmed with evergreens, great preparations were made for the family feasts, and business was generally suspended. the jolly old city fathers took a prolonged rest from cares of office, even ordering on december , , that, "as the winter and the holidays are at hand, there shall be no more ordinary meetings of this board (the city corporation) between this date and three weeks after christmas. the court messenger is ordered not to summon any one in the meantime." sensible old souls! they were not going to allow business to usurp their time and thought during this joyful season! the children must have their trees, hung with gifts; the needy must be especially cared for, and visits must be exchanged; so the city was left to take care of itself, while each household was busy making ready for the day of days, the season of seasons. what a time those _hausfraus_ had polishing up their silver, pewter, brass, and copper treasures, in opening up best rooms, and newly sanding the floors in devious intricate designs! what a pile of wood was burned to bake the huge turkeys, pies, and puddings! what pains the fathers took to select the rosiest apples and the choicest nuts to put in each child's stocking on christmas eve. fortunately, children obeyed the injunction of scripture in those days, and despised not the day of small things. how fortunate it was that there were no trains or other rapid modes of conveyance to bring visitors from the puritan colonies at this season. there was no possibility of any of their strict neighbors dropping in unexpectedly to furnish a free lecture, while the dutch families were merrily dancing. the puritans were located less than two hundred and eighty-five miles distant, yet they were more distantly separated by ideas than by space. but a little leaven was eventually to penetrate the entire country, and the customs that are now observed each christmas throughout the eastern, middle, and western states, are mainly such as were brought to this country by the dutch. americans have none of their own. in fact, they possess but little that is distinctively their own because they are a conglomerate nation, speaking a conglomerate language. according to the late lawrence hutton, "our christmas carols appear to have come from the holy land itself; our christmas trees from the east by way of germany; our santa claus from holland; our stockings hung in the chimney, from france or belgium; and our christmas cards and verbal christmas greetings, our yule-logs, our boars' heads, our plum puddings and our mince pies from england. our turkey is, seemingly, our only contribution." let us add the squash-pie! [illustration: children of many nationalities at christmas celebration in a new york school. chinese, italians, swedes, irish, english, german, french, russian, austrian.] these customs which have become general throughout the united states, varying of course in different localities, are being rapidly introduced into the new possessions where they are engrafted on some of the prettiest customs observed by the people in former years. in porto rico on christmas day they have a church procession of children in beautiful costumes, which is a very attractive feature. the people feast, dance, attend midnight mass on christmas eve, then dance and feast until christmas morning. in fact they dance and feast most of the time from december twenty-fourth until january seventh, when not at church services. on twelfth night gifts are exchanged, for as yet santa claus has not ventured to visit such a warm climate, so the children continue to receive their gifts from the holy kings. however, under the shelter of the american flag, the christmas tree is growing in favor. in hawaii, so far as possible, the so-called new england customs prevail. in the philippines even beggars in the streets expect a "christmas present," which they solicit in good english. so from alaska to the island of tutuila, the smallest of america's possessions, yule-tide is observed in a similar manner. yule-tide has been singularly connected with important events in the history of the united states. in the year washington crossed the delaware on christmas night to capture nearly one thousand hessians after their christmas revelries. a few days later, december th, congress resolved to send commissioners to the courts of vienna, spain, france, and tuscany; and as victory followed the american leader, the achievements of this yule-tide were declared by frederick the great of prussia to be "the most brilliant of any recorded in the annals of military action." the year following, , was probably one of the gloomiest yule-tides in the experience of the american forces. they lay encamped at valley forge, sick and discouraged, destitute of food, clothing, and most of the necessities of life. it was on christmas eve, , that washington laid aside forever his military clothes and assumed those of a civilian, feeling, as he expressed it, "relieved of a load of public care." after congress removed to philadelphia, martha washington held her first public reception in the executive mansion on christmas eve, when, it is stated, there was gathered "the most brilliant assemblage ever seen in america." at yule-tide a few years later, , the country was mourning the death of the beloved father of his country. in later years, the season continued prominent in the history of great events. the most notable of these were the two proclamations of president lincoln, the one freeing the slaves, january , , and the other proclaiming the "unconditional pardon and amnesty to all concerned in the late insurrection," on december , . and may the peace then declared remain with this people forevermore! the voice of the christ-child the earth has grown cold with its burden of care, but at christmas it always is young, the heart of the jewel burns lustrous and fair, and its soul full of music breaks forth on the air, when the song of the angels is sung. it is coming, old earth, it is coming to-night! on snowflakes which covered thy sod, the feet of the christ-child fall gently and white, and the voice of the christ-child tells out with delight that mankind are the children of god. on the sad and the lonely, the wretched and poor, the voice of the christ-child shall fall; and to every blind wanderer opens the door of a hope which he dared not to dream of before, with a sunshine of welcome for all. the feet of the humblest may walk in the field where the feet of the holiest have trod, this, this is the marvel to mortals revealed, when the silvery trumpets of christmas have pealed, that mankind are the children of god. --_phillips brooks._ index alaska, alexander the great, alexander, king of the scots, alfred, king, american flag, the, andros, governor, archbishop of york, aryans, , , asia, baal, bambino, the, , balder, , , , , banks, n. p., berserks, the, , , bethlehem, boar's head, the, , bocaccio, _bolero_, the, bornhern, island of, boston, boxing-day, bradford, william, , , bragi, brewster, elder, , brooks, phillips, bull-fights, cadiz, cæsar, julius, _céppo_, , cervantes, christ, , , , , , , christ-child, , , , , christian fathers, the, cid, the, cole, sir henry, columbus, , , , congress, , "cream of the year," the, , czar, the, dante, druids, , , easter, , edda, the younger, , , elizabeth (daughter of henri vii), epiphany, , , , executive mansion, the, _fandango_, father of his country, feast of tabernacles, the, festival of fools, fool's dance, the, frankland, frederick the great, frey (freya), , , , frost king, the, gregorian calendar, the, , _hackin_, the, hadrian, emperor, hakon the good, hampton court, hawaii, hayti, hel, henry iii, henry vii, , henry viii, "hiring day," höder, holy family, the, holy kings, the, holy land, the, holy manger, the, , holy night, , , , holy season, the, _hweolor-tid_, icons, indo-european ancestors, jamestown, , janus, jehovah, jesus, the little, _jota_, julian calendar, the, jutland, king's chapel, knight rupert, _kolyada_, , , _kolyadki_, , kriss kringle, _lamb's-wool_, lapps, the, , , , , lincoln, president, litchfield, loki, , lorraine, luther, martin, lycia, magi, the, , magnificat, the, margaret, princess, massachusetts colony, massasoit, , _mayflower_, the, , , "merry christmas," michelangelo, miracle plays, , mistletoe, , mohammedans, the, morris dance, the, myra, bishop of, nativity, the, , , _naulets_, navidad, fortress of, , _niña_, the, , , , _noche-buena_, , , noël, north pole, the, norway, _novena_, the, , numa, , odin, , , olaf, king, , ovsen, , palara, paradise play, parliament, , passover, the jewish, petit anse, petrarch, petrograd, , _pfeffer kuchen_, , philadelphia, philippines, the, pilgrims, the, _pinta_, the, , plymouth colony, , pope, , , pope julius, pope leo xiii, porto rico, _presepio_, the, , prince of peace, the, _puchero olla_, the, puritans, the, , , pytheas, , "queen of the north" (sweden), raphael, reformation, the, richard ii, ring of st. peter, the, rome, rowena, saehrimnir, sagas, st. angelo, castle of, , st. barbar's day, st. nicholas, , , st. peter's, , st. sylvester's eve, santa claus, , , , , , , _santa maria_, the, , , saturn, saturnalia, roman, , , , saul, saxons, the, , , , seville, shepherds' hymn, the, smith, captain john, , sotjelnik, star of the east, the, _svea_, sweden, sylvester, tacitus, thames, the, thor, , , , , tree of fate, the, tree of nativity, the, trinity, the, , twelfth night, twelfth-night ball, the, twelfth-night supper, the, tyrolese alps, tyrolese peasants, upsala, , _urn of fate_, the, , utwagustorp, valhalla, , valley forge, vienna, vikings, virgin mary, the, , , , vortigern, warwick, earl of, washington, , washington, martha, wassail bowl, the, westminster hall, whitehall, winter palace, the, wise men, the, wodin, , , , , yggdrasil, yule-log, the, , , , , zealand, the etiquette of engagement and marriage describing modern manners and customs of courtship and marriage, and giving full details regarding the wedding ceremony and arrangements by g.r.m. devereux author of "etiquette for women," etc, etc. first published january this etext prepared from the reprint of march published by c. arthur pearson ltd., henrietta street london and printed by neill and co. ltd., edinburgh. list of contents page introductory remarks chapter i the beginnings of courtship--favourable opportunities--intellectual affinity--artistic fellowship--athletic comradeship--amateur acting--social intercourse--different ideas of etiquette chapter ii introductions--recognition of affinity, or love at first sight--how to follow up an acquaintance--kindly offices of relations and friends chapter iii intercourse between unconfessed lovers--the question of presents--exchange of hospitality--the man who lives at home--the man in rooms chapter iv intercourse with ( ) the home girl; ( ) the bachelor girl; ( ) the business girl; ( ) the student or professional girl--friends who become lovers chapter v flirts, male and female--he changes his mind on the verge of a proposal--how she accepts the situation--how she may give encouragement or ward off an unwelcome offer chapter vi the question of age--young lovers--young men who woo maturity--old men who court youth--middle-aged lovers chapter vii proposals: premeditated, spontaneous, practical, or romantic--no rule possible--tact wanted in choice of opportunity--unseemly haste an insult to a woman--keen sense of humour dangerous to sentiment--some things to avoid--vaguely worded offers--when she may take the initiative chapter viii engagements--the attitude of parents and guardians--making it known in the family, to outside friends--congratulations--the choice and giving of the ring--making acquaintance with future relations-in-law, personally or by letter chapter ix his visits to her home--the engaged couple in public--in society--visiting at the same house---going about together, etc.--the question of expenses chapter x love-letters--long or short engagements--broken engagements--clandestine engagements--justifiable in certain cases--where the mother shares the secret--friends who act as go-between chapter xi foreign etiquette of engagements--betrothal much more serious than in england chapter xii marriage--fixing the day--preparations--selecting the bridesmaids and their dresses--buying the wedding-gown--the trousseau--invitations chapter xiii wedding presents--choosing and furnishing the house--what the bridegroom supplies--the bride's share in the matter chapter xiv the nature of the ceremony, religious or civil--banns or license--legal formalities--settlements, etc. chapter xv the wedding-day--what is expected of ( ) the bride; ( ) the bridesmaids; ( ) the bridegroom; ( ) the best man; ( ) the bride's parents--at the bride's house--dressing--starting for the church--the tying of the knot--social aspect--reception or breakfast chapter xvi the guests--the wedding presents on view--starting for the honeymoon--dress and luggage--where to go and how long to stay--inevitable test of temperament--possible disappointments and disillusion, passing or permanent chapter xvii the return home--a plunge into the practical--housekeeping--wedding calls--the newly-married couple at home and in society chapter xviii mixed marriages--differences of colour, nationality, and religion--scotch marriages--marriage of minors and wards in chancery chapter xix foreign etiquette of marriage--various customs chapter xx runaway matches--re-marriage of widows and widowers--the children--the home--dress--comparisons chapter xxi marrying for love; for money; for a home; for a housekeeper--concluding remarks index { } the etiquette of engagement and marriage introductory remarks the word _courtship_ has an old-world sound about it, and carries the mind back to the statelier manners of bygone days. nowadays we have no leisure for courtly greetings and elaborately-turned compliments. we are slackening many of the old bonds, breaking down some of the old restraint, and, though it will seem treason to members of a past generation to say it, we are, let us hope, arriving at a less artificial state of things. during the march of civilisation marriage and the circumstances that lead up to it have undergone many and wonderful changes, though the deep-seated fundamental idea of having a mate has remained unaltered in essence. just as the savage of to-day steals or fights for his dusky bride, so did our own rude forefathers of past ages look to rapine and the sword as the natural means of procuring the mate who was to minister to their joys and necessities. as the chinese girl of the twentieth century is bought by her husband like a piece of furniture or a cooking utensil, so the child bride of ancient rome used to take a formal farewell of her dolls and playthings, making a solemn offering of them to the gods, before she was sold to the husband who was legally entitled to beat her if he liked, she being nothing but his slave in the eyes of the law. we have travelled far since then, and it would be impossible even to touch upon the main points of development that have { } placed engagement and marriage upon their present footing amongst us. it is to be noted that no two countries have moved quite side by side in this matter. we find the written and unwritten laws which regulate the conduct of man to woman different to some extent in every land, and what would be an act of courtesy in one country would be regarded as a serious breach of etiquette in another. no one has made a clean sweep of all the old formalities; there are still certain things which may and may not be done; and it is for this reason that a few hints on this ever new, ever-engrossing subject of courtship and marriage may be found helpful to those who are contemplating the most important step in the life of man or woman. we are very free and easy now in england, though not quite as unconventional as they are on the other side of the atlantic. we have abolished a great many of the false barriers erected by mrs. grundy or her predecessors, which kept young men and women from enjoying each other's society in an innocent, natural way. of course there is no gain without a certain amount of loss, and while we have advanced in freedom we have retrograded in chivalry, deference, and courtesy. the girl who daily meets a man on common ground in his business or his sport is not regarded by him with the same "distant reverence" which the devout lover of former days cherished for the lady of his heart. perhaps as we are but human beings it is as well that we are more natural, and less given to idealise our beloved. women are no longer brought up in the belief that it is a disgrace not to get married, and a still greater disgrace to show the least sign of being anxious to fulfil their destiny. every normally-minded woman who is honest with herself must confess to her own heart--even if to no other--that marriage rightly understood is the life for which she was intended, and the one in which she would find the highest, purest happiness. if, however, the right man fails to appear, she can make herself very happy. she does not think that each man of her acquaintance is desirous to marry her, or that a ten minutes' _tête-à-tête_ will expose her to the risk of a proposal. as things go now men and women in england have abundant opportunities for seeing and knowing each other before linking their lives together. this freedom of intercourse, { } however, is fettered here and there by what we call etiquette, which varies considerably in the different scales of social life. the coster may have less ceremony in his wooing and wedding than the nobleman; the royal prince is hedged in by formalities unknown to the middle classes; but in every rank there are accepted traditions, written and unwritten rules, to which men and women must submit if they will be self-respecting, law-abiding citizens. { } chapter i _the beginnings of courtship--favourable opportunities--intellectual affinity--artistic fellowship--athletic comradeship--amateur acting--social intercourse--different ideas of etiquette._ who can fix the exact time at which courtship begins? it may or may not be preceded by love; it may coincide with the birth of the tender passion; it may possibly be well in advance of cupid's darts; or, sad to say, it may be little more than the prelude to a purely business transaction. opportunities. men and women meet each other on very varied planes, and each walk in life has its own opportunities. the intellectually minded may begin their courtship over musty books or choice editions, and advanced students will make love as ardently as a country maid and her rustic lover. a dry mathematical problem may be as good a medium for the lover as a nosegay or a verse of poetry. a love of the arts implies an emotional element that lends itself to love-making. music is responsible for a great deal. the passion of the love-song, the pathos of the composer so easily become the language of the interpreter, when love is in the heart. athletic comradeship. the fascinations of art are more sensuous than the vigorous, breezy pleasures of outdoor pursuits. for healthy-minded love-making this comradeship yields golden opportunities. { } the outdoor pair may not look so sentimental as the artistic couple; but their hearts may be as tender and their love as true, though their hands meet over the mending of a tyre or the finding of a tennis ball instead of being clasped in the ecstasy born of sweet sounds. amateur acting. i know of an amateur dramatic society that has been nicknamed the matrimonial club from the number of marriages that have taken place among the members. this amusement does pave the way for courtship, for in no other are the conventionalities so completely set aside for the time being. those who have thus been brought together in make-believe are not always anxious to resume formal relations. acting affords priceless opportunities. making up his mind. now when a man has made up his mind that he wants to marry a certain girl, he emerges from the indefinite stage of observation, admiration, or flirtation, and begins to make his intentions known. in view of the impossibility of a universal law of etiquette, it may be said that the remarks in these pages apply to that largest section of society known as the middle classes. when a man is in a position to marry, he should be especially careful not to single out a girl by his attentions if he does not intend to propose to her, for the way in which his conduct is regarded will be greatly influenced by his banking account, and one with a small income and smaller prospects may do things with impunity that a man in more affluent circumstances could not do without the risk of having a serious construction put upon them. "ineligibles." i once heard a very rich young man bewail his fate on this score. he said: "a fellow with only a hundred a year gets all the fun. he can talk to any nice girl he likes as much as he likes, and nothing is said, because people know he can't marry. but if you have a little money (_his_ ran into thousands) { } they say you're engaged the second time you're seen with a lady!" this may sound mercenary, but after all it is only practical. when it is known that a man neither is nor is likely to be in a position to marry, parents encourage his visits to the house, or permit his attentions to their daughters, at their own risk. not that lack of means will prevent falling in love--far from it! when parents think marriage impossible they sometimes give opportunities to an _ineligible_, and then are aggrieved at his making good use of them. there are many things to be considered at the beginning of courtship. much must depend upon the family of the lady. social intercourse. in a household where there is neither father nor brother on the scene a man must walk warily. he is sure to be chaffed about any special intimacy with such a family, and even well-meant chaff sometimes spoils a situation. a woman who has no grown-up son, and has lost, or is temporarily separated from, her husband, will do well to avoid any undue eagerness in cultivating masculine society. she should exercise her own intuition, and extend a cordial, unaffected welcome to such men as she thinks suitable friends, or possible husbands, for her daughters. she should be equally careful to eschew any sign of match-making intrigue or narrow-minded suspicion. if she is the right sort of mother the men will probably find in her a charming companion and valuable friend. it is most essential that girls who have been mainly brought up under feminine influences should have ample and varied opportunities of learning something about the other sex, by personal intercourse, before there is any question of their marriage. if this is not done it will be found that they generally fall a prey to the first suitor who comes along. they have formed unreal, impossible, and often foolish ideas about men, and are unable to distinguish the tares from the wheat. a girl with brothers or men friends is far more likely to make a wise choice than one who has formed her ideas from heroes of fiction. where a man is introduced by the son of the house, his path is on smoother ground. as "charlie's chum" he has a { } perfectly reasonable and innocent excuse for his frequent visits, even though charlie may receive a minimum of his attention. on the other hand, fathers and brothers are not always aids to courtship. they hold different views about the man to those of their womenkind, and _may_ make things unpleasant for all parties. a man can soon establish himself as a sort of oracle in a feminine circle, and has countless chances of making himself useful to the ladies. he may have to consider the proprieties a little more, but then he is master of the situation, with none of his own kind to point out the weak joints in his armour. tact. a tactful suitor will be courteous to every member of his sweetheart's family. he will not for a moment let it be thought that he considers her the only one worthy of his notice. even younger brothers and sisters are preferable as allies, and it will make the whole position much pleasanter if he is liked by her own people. he will especially make it his business to stand well with her parents. by prettily filial attentions to mollie's mother his cause will be materially strengthened, and though the young lady may grudge the time he spends in discussing politics or stocks and shares with her father, her own common sense will tell her that it is a very good investment for the future. moreover, a really nice-minded girl would never tolerate a man who was discourteous to her parents, however flattering his attitude might be to herself. a breach of etiquette. when a girl is staying with friends, no man should pay his addresses to her unknown to her hostess or against that lady's wishes. it is better to end a visit than to abuse hospitality. the hostess is responsible to her visitor's parents for the time being, and the lovers should consider her position. whatever social or domestic restrictions may stand between a man and the woman he wishes to woo, he must pay a certain regard to them for her sake, if not for his own. no two households are regulated by the same code in the smaller details of etiquette. { } in one family old-world notions of decorum prevail, and the lover will want self-restraint and prudence; in another the law of liberty reigns supreme, and the young people do pretty much as they like. in such a circle the lover's presence will be taken for granted--one more or less does not matter--and courtship is made easy. man being by nature a hunter who values his spoils in proportion to the dangers and difficulties overcome in the chase, is not always so keen to secure the quarry that costs the least effort, so the free and easy parents often find that their daughters remain unmarried. { } chapter ii _introductions--recognition of affinity, or love at first sight--how to follow up an acquaintance--kindly offices of relations and friends._ introductions. there are definite laws of etiquette in the matter of introductions. a man has seen the lady once, or, it may be, has watched her from a distance with longing eyes for months past. he may not make himself known to her without the aid of a third person, who should first ascertain whether his acquaintance will be agreeable to the object of his admiration. it may happen that the gods will send him some lucky chance of rendering her a timely service. he might rescue her dog from a canine street fray, pick up a trinket she had dropped, or, better still, like the people in novels, travel with her on a long journey and prove himself a tactful cavalier. under any of these circumstances the ice would be broken, and possibly an informal introduction would take place. it ought, however, to be supplemented by more regular proceedings before any recognised intercourse is possible. a girl is not supposed to ask for an introduction to a man, but--low be it spoken--she often does; not publicly, of course, but she simply confides in her married lady friend or favourite brother, neither of whom would naturally give her away. a man ought not to haunt a girl whose acquaintance he wishes to make. there is a wide margin between accepting invitations to houses, or turning up opportunely at parties where he may expect to meet her, and walking obtrusively past her house several times a day, or shadowing her out shopping and at public places of amusement. a very young girl { } might think this romantic, though youth is terribly matter-of-fact nowadays. her elders would certainly consider it rude, and put him down as a man to be avoided. an elderly sentimental spinster would be in a flutter. a level-headed girl would think him a bore, if not a bit of a fool. love at first sight. this seems a very large order, for love means so much. that there is often a wondrous _recognition of affinity_, a sort of flash from soul to soul kindling the desire for closer union, is undeniable. a man suddenly sees the one whom he resolves to win for his wife. a woman realises that she has found the man of all others to whom she would gladly give herself. this is not love; it is but the herald that goes before the king. opinions on the subject of marrying one's first love are much divided, and one has rather to beg the question by saying that it is mainly a matter of temperament. the age at which you begin falling in love has also to be taken into account. a modern writer gives it as his opinion that "a wise man will never marry his first love, for he knows that matrimony demands as much special attention as any of the learned professions. unqualified amateurs swell the lists of the divorce court." the man's case. it may be taken for granted that the man who has some experience of women and their ways makes a better lover than one who knows nothing of them. love may supply him with essentials, but only practice can perfect details. a man of five-and-twenty may be supposed to know his own mind. the girl's case. the girl in her teens who gives her love and herself may find full satisfaction in her marriage; but blind self-confidence and impulsive inexperience may lay up a store of sorrow for the future. no man is wise to hurry a young girl into marriage. { } how to follow up an acquaintance. once the introduction is over it remains mainly with the man to make the most of his advantages. he obtains permission to call; and it is not a bad plan to allow a short interval to elapse before availing himself of the privilege. he must not seem neglectful, but may wait just long enough to give the lady time to think about him, to wonder, to wish, to long for his coming. he will be careful not to transgress any detail of etiquette in this his first call, but he will not leave without having made some distinct advance, having found some pretext for a less formal visit. he will convey to her in a subtle, meaning manner that the sun will not shine for him till he sees her again. her family. he will find out what interests her people. he will bring her father rare cuttings for his garden, or introduce him to a choice brand of cigars. he will lend her mother books, sing or recite at her pet charity entertainments, or even make a martyr of himself at flower-shows and bazaars. he will bring designs for her sister's wood-carving, or teach small tommy to ride a bicycle. as to the lady of his heart, he will begin by sharing her pursuits only as a means to an end, for when love-making once steps in other pursuits are neglected, if not totally shelved, for the time being. this transition stage requires great tact. he must not startle her by too sudden a development. some women may like to be taken by storm, to be married by capture as it were, but the average girl likes to have time to enjoy being wooed and won. she basks in the gradual unfolding of his love; she rejoices over each new phase of their courtship; she lingers longingly on the threshold of her great happiness. she is intoxicated by the sense of her own power; she is touched by the deference which curbs his ardour. kindly offices of relations and friends. outsiders can often make or mar a possible marriage. when the third person undertakes to introduce two people in a case { } where even a one-sided attraction is supposed to exist, no remark should be made about it. the lady friend who tells a girl that a man "is very much taken with her," strikes a fatal blow at the unconscious grace with which the girl would otherwise have received him. the blundering brother who blurts out: "my sister says that girl's awfully gone on you, old chap!" probably makes his chum fight shy of the girl, or indulge in a little fun at her expense. it should be remembered that a nearer acquaintance does not always confirm impressions formed at a distance. a sister who will discreetly play the part of number three is invaluable. a brother who will bring the man home to dinner, or arrange cycling expeditions, is a treasure. the aunt who gives dances or river parties just when he has his holiday is inestimable. the uncle who has a fancy for stage managing, and casts the two for the lovers' parts in a charmingly unconscious fashion, is a relation worth having. married friends on either side can afford many extra and delightful opportunities of meeting. while thus smoothing the path of love, all obtrusive allusion to the suspected or recognised state of things should be carefully avoided. it is an unpardonable breach of etiquette for any one to draw attention to the movements of a couple by a laugh, a nod, or a wink which, though not intended to reach them, gives frequent rise to unpleasant situations. her friends should guard against anything savouring of a husband-trap; his friends should avoid any indication that they look upon her as his lawful prey. there should be no questionable chaff or talking at the possible lovers. older people who have forgotten how tender their own sensibilities once were are rather fond of cracking jokes, and make tactless, pointed remarks. the old friend of the family who slaps the prospective suitor on the back, and in the lady's presence challenges him to kiss her under the mistletoe, only succeeds in making them both uncomfortable. the elderly relative who nods her cap, saying: "oh yes, we know all about it! we were young ourselves once!" probably has the best intentions, but has chosen the worst way of showing them. { } chapter iii _intercourse between unconfessed lovers--the question of presents--exchange of hospitality--the man who lives at home--the man in rooms._ unconfessed lovers. there is a fascinating, yet withal tormenting, insecurity in the intercourse preceding an actual declaration of love. it may be the ante-chamber to an earthly paradise. it may but prove to be a fool's paradise. george eliot describes two of her characters as being "in that stage of courtship which makes the most exquisite moment of youth, the freshest blossom-time of passion--when each is sure of the other's love and all its mutual divination, exalting the most trivial word, the slightest gesture into thrills delicate and delicious as wafted jasmine scent." it may be that he has some honourable reason to forbid his speaking when he would. he may fear to lose her altogether if he is too hasty. possibly there is another man in the case. she may be revelling in the new joy of life without analysing its source. if she has faced the secret of her own heart she will mount guard over herself lest word or look should betray her, before he has told her that she does not love in vain. breaches of etiquette. when a man finds that his attentions are unwelcome, and a woman has used every means in her power, short of actual rudeness, to show him that she does not desire his nearer acquaintance, he has no right to force himself or his love upon her. he has no right to make sure of any woman's love before he has asked her for it, unless, of course, she has { } betrayed herself by an unwomanly want of reticence. it is both foolish and ill-bred for him to play the part of dog-in-the-manger and to object to her receiving attentions from any one else. until he has declared himself he can assume no control over the disposal of her favours, still less should he stoop to put a spoke in another man's wheel. the question of presents. a line must be carefully drawn between the gifts of an unconfessed lover and of a _fiancé_. the former may send flowers, bon-bons, and pretty trifles of that sort, or he could give her a dog or a persian kitten; but he must not offer her articles of jewellery or any item of her toilette. he might give her the undressed skin of an animal that he had shot, but he could not order a set of furs to be sent to her from a shop. it must be remembered that ostensibly they are as yet only friends, and though every gift will have its inward meaning, it should not have any outward significance. in offering a present the unconfessed lover will do well to enclose a little note [footnote in original: for those who wish to study the art of letter-writing there is a most excellent guide to all sorts of correspondence, entitled, "how shall i word it?" published at one shilling by c. arthur pearson (limited).] couched in some such terms as these: "dear miss grayson,--you said the other day that you could not grow lilies of the valley in your garden, so i am venturing to send you the accompanying basket, which i hope you will be kind enough to accept.--believe me, sincerely yours, duncan talbot." exchange of hospitality. where both families are acquainted, and in a similar social position, the interchange of hospitality will probably be somewhat increased in virtue of the growing intimacy between the possible lovers. until there is an acknowledged engagement it would not be etiquette for his family to single her out from the rest of her own people by inviting her alone. a parent, { } brother, or sister ought to be included. it would also be diplomatic on the part of her friends not to extend too gushing a welcome to him, while they take his belongings as a matter of course. because the one family can give dinner parties it does not follow that the other should not afford just as much enjoyment by a simpler form of hospitality. the possible lover does not come to criticise the cuisine of the household in which the object of his desires is to be seen. the man who lives at home. it will often happen that a man makes acquaintances who become friends quite independently of his own family. but if he is seriously contemplating matrimony he will be anxious to introduce his chosen one to his womenkind. supposing that his people were the older residents in the place, he would pave the way by saying that his mother, or sister, as the case might be, would so much like to call, and might she do so? unless there should be some purely feminine feud the permission would be cordially given. if, on the other hand, the girl's family were the first comers to the locality he would then ask the lady to call on his people, intimating that they were longing to know her and her daughter, and what a personal gratification it would be to him to bring the desired meeting about. in the present day the old hard and fast rules which used to regulate calling are no longer observed. if acquaintance is really sought there will be no difficulty for a woman of tact and judgment to cultivate it. a danger. women are very quick to see when they are being courted for their sons or brothers, and they do not always like it. it is discourteous, and very transparent, to send an invitation to a girl the day after her brother has come home on leave in which you hope "that captain boyle will be able to accompany her," when practically you have ignored her existence since the last time he was at home. it is not kind or considerate to try and monopolise the society of any man whose { } business or profession only permits of his being at home at long intervals. a girl may want to have him with her very much indeed, but she should not be piqued and feel injured if he excuses himself on the ground of having to take his sister out, or spend his evening with his parents. he will be all the better husband for this courtesy to his own relations. of course his people may be very dull, possibly unpleasant, and in that case real friendship will be a labour, if not an impossibility; but, for the man's sake, they must be treated in such a way as not to hurt either his feelings or their own. the same, naturally, holds good with regard to her belongings. the man who lives in rooms is a much easier person to cultivate. you take it for granted that he is dull, that his dinners are not well cooked, and that he misses the delights of home. so you ask him to drop in when he likes. "we are nearly always in to tea;" or "we dine at . , and if you take us as we are, there will be a place for you." as soon as a man sees that this sort of invitation is really meant he will not be slow to avail himself of it. not that he will come to dinner every other night, but he will drop in to tea, and turn up in the course of the evening for a little music and a chat. he gets into the habit of coming in on sunday afternoons, and generally ends by staying to supper. as a host. all this means a great deal to a lone bachelor, and makes him long for a home of his own. in return for this delightful hospitality he will, perhaps, ask a sister to stay with him and give a tea-party in his rooms. later on he will have seats for a theatre, and arrange a nice little dinner or supper in town. where dramatic delights are out of reach he will plan a river or cycling expedition, he will entertain his friends at a local cricket match, he will inspire his fellow bachelors to give a dance; and there will be only one guest whose presence is of any importance to him. he will not let it appear that he is paying a debt; he will { } imply, rather, that the ladies are conferring a favour upon him. he will consult her mother as to many arrangements, and make sure that all the guests are to her liking. he will not be afraid of asking a possible rival, who might be more dangerous when absent than present. while thus entertaining the lady of his choice, the suitor must discern nicely between paying her special honour and taking it for granted that she already belongs to him. he must not advertise the fact that the party is given for her, by neglecting his other guests, or by omitting pleasant courtesies to less-favoured maidens. { } chapter iv _intercourse with ( ) the home girl; ( ) the bachelor girl; ( ) the business girl; ( ) the student or professional girl--friends who become lovers._ the home girl. as has already been said, the would-be lover will do well to study the workings of his lady's home. if she has many domestic duties to perform he will arrange his spare time to fit in with hers. he will not call at such times as would be inconvenient and run the risk of ructions, simply because he knows _she_ will be glad to see him. he will not look aggrieved if she refuses to go out cycling with him because she has promised to take the little ones out blackberrying. he will seize a golden chance and go with them. when he is at her home, he will not act as if the whole place belonged to him, and he will be careful not to become a bore. men of leisure, and men whose professions place them on confidential terms, such as doctors and clergymen, have the greatest opportunities of knowing the home girl at her best, and at her worst. the last two see her under conditions that show what she is really made of, and not merely what she appears in society, for they have access to the house in times of trouble when outsiders are excluded. the bachelor girl is pretty sure to be out of her teens, but not necessarily in the thirties. she will probably have girl chums who, like herself, are living in a more or less independent fashion. she sometimes indulges in anti-matrimonial theories, and it may prove most interesting to convert her from the error of her ways. a man has such beautifully sure ground under his feet when she has given him plainly to understand that she prefers { } friendship to love. a would-be suitor will find his opportunities of intercourse regulated by her standard of conventionality. she is free to make her own life, with her own code of conduct, her own ideas of responsibility. she meets him frankly on what she deems common ground; but he sees the other side of things, for men and women never can and never will look at life from the same point of view. his knowledge should make him all the more jealous of her fair fame, but he must walk warily lest he wound her womanly dignity. she will do nothing wrong, her heart is too pure for that, but he must not let her do what may even appear to be wrong. at first she will be a little intoxicated with the sense of her own freedom. he must never take advantage of that, for he knows that the woman always pays. they will probably include one of her chums in their cosy tea-parties at her rooms, and there will be no secret of his coming and going. he will see her home from the theatre, concert, or lecture, but he will not go and smoke in her flat till the small hours. he will discriminate as to the restaurant where they have lunch together, and he will not invite her to a _tête-à-tête_ supper after the play. she will entertain him at her club, and he will guard against the assumption of rights that are not his. the business girl. the daily life of the business girl is of necessity a regular one, and the man who wants to know more of her knows where to find her. if by chance he is employed in the same firm, he has daily chances of making headway with her. he can often render her little services, help her over rough places, and make life as pleasant again for her. all this can be so managed that no one, save perhaps a lynx-eyed rival, will know anything about it. he will certainly not make her the talk of the office by bragging of his conquest, and laying wagers as to his chance of success, or get her into hot water by hindering her at her work. she will keep her own counsel, and not giggle with other girls when he comes along. of course she will tell her special friend all about it, for what is the good of a love-affair if you cannot talk to some one on the all-engrossing subject? { } she will not display the buttonhole he bought her on the way from the train to all the other girls as his gift, nor will she be foolish and give herself away by hanging about his room door in the hopes of seeing him. she will always find time for a word or a bright glance when they do meet, by accident of course. he will not make her conspicuous by always travelling home with her, but he will be at hand to pilot her through a fog, to help her out of a crowd, or to get her a place when there is anything to be seen. he will make it plain that he thinks of her, and is ever on the alert to play the part of her cavalier. she is practical and self-reliant, as a rule, but she does not object to be courted. when they plan a saturday outing she will not propose what she knows to be beyond his means, but she will pardon him for a little extravagance in her honour. social inequality. when a man in a superior position begins paying attentions to a girl filling a subordinate post, he will probably expose her to the jealousy, and possible malice, of her fellows; but this will depend greatly upon the girl herself. in this case the suitor must steer clear of anything like patronage. if she is worthy of his notice she is worthy of his respect and consideration. he will be careful not to take her to any place of amusement where she would feel out of her element, or run the risk of being snubbed by any of his own rich friends. the son of a wealthy merchant would not give as much pleasure to a girl earning thirty shillings in his father's office if he took her to supper at the carlton, as if he selected some less magnificent restaurant. she would feel more at home on the river, or at earl's court, than on the lawn at hurlingham. he would show her that his pleasure was to be with her, and he would wait till he could call her his wife before introducing her to a new world. the student or professional girl. there is a little country called bohemia, whose laws rule the kingdom of art, and whose government seems a trifle erratic to those who live outside the charmed circle. students of { } music, painting, sculpture, and the drama have a code of etiquette that may be called adaptable; but it does not follow that because a man is an artist he must therefore be deficient in courtesy to women; nor is it yet inevitable that when a girl develops a talent for drawing she should violate all the proprieties. falling in love with music-masters is a very old story, but it is not quite a thing of the past. a man has no right to work on the emotions of his pupil merely for his own amusement or to gratify his vanity. he may find that it infuses more soul into her music, but she is a woman as well as an artist. where both have the artistic temperament highly developed, it is playing with fire indeed. _the dramatic student_ is thrown into very mixed society. she is left with a great deal of spare time on her hands when merely understudying, or out of an engagement. she is forced to keep late hours, and may be exposed to many unpleasant experiences. i know of one man who was so distressed at the girl of his heart having to cross london by the last 'bus every night that he changed his quarters and took rooms as near to where she was living as he could, in order to be able to see her home without making the fact unduly conspicuous. this was a delicate act of courtesy, and i am glad to say that they are now happily married. _the medical student and hospital nurse_ are generally women with a special turn of mind, and in the former case the work of training is so absorbing that it can hardly be run concurrently with the delights of courtship. the nurse soon learns to take care of herself, and has many special opportunities of studying the lords of creation. she sees some of the noblest and most gifted of them at their work, the wildest of them at play, and all and sundry in their hour of weakness; and this experience should be borne in mind by the man who seeks to win her. she will not regard him as a demi-god, nor as a hero of romance. she will not appeal to the man who wants a mere plaything in his wife. she will have far higher gifts than the society doll, but she will be a woman to be wooed, and worth the winning. { } friends who become lovers. there are those who say that friendship excludes love, and there is a kind of friendship which can only exist where love is impossible and undesired. on the other hand we know that sometimes the boy and girl who have grown up side by side, who have shared each other's pranks and penalties, do wake up one day to find a new element asserting itself in their intercourse. a certain shyness springs up between them only to be dispelled by fuller, sweeter comradeship. this development sometimes takes place during a period of separation, or when a possible rival appears on the scene. it usually assumes concrete form in the man's mind first. he may hide his love under the guise of friendship till he feels he has a right to make it known. it may be that he has to go abroad to seek the wherewithal to start a home, and when he has succeeded he will write some such letter as this:-- "my dear clari,--when i threw up my berth at home you wondered why i was in such a hurry to leave the old country, and home, and you, and it was very hard not to tell you the real reason. i came out here to make enough money to set up housekeeping, and, dear, i want you to come and help me, now i have succeeded so far. i know it is a tremendous thing to ask, and that i am entirely unworthy of the sacrifice you would be making; but, dear, we know each other pretty well by this, and i hope you can trust yourself to me. if you only knew how i have longed to tell you this through the last two years of our sweet, but to me unsatisfying, friendship you would not keep me in suspense any longer than you can help. you have been the one thought and object of my life ever since i came out, and i have lived in fear of some other fellow getting in before me. i think i must always have loved you, it seems a part of myself, but it was your first ball that woke me up. let me know soon, dear.--ever and always your devoted "gordon." however the change from friendship to love comes about, the man must be just as courteous as if she had only crossed { } his path in the fulness of her young womanhood. he must not take her for granted because he knew her in pinafores, nor slight her sensibilities because he taught her to climb trees. if he is negligent other men will supply his deficiencies. as a lover he is bound to appear in a new light, and he must look to it that he does not suffer by the change. the friend ought to make the best lover, for he knows the tastes and weaknesses, the temperament and surroundings of the woman he has chosen. they will be bound by countless old associations, but this very familiarity may breed, not contempt, but a matter-of-fact mental attitude that will rob courtship of more than half its charm. { } chapter v _flirts, male and female--he changes his mind on the verge of a proposal--how she accepts the situation--how she may give encouragement or ward off an unwelcome offer._ it may be questioned whether there is any etiquette in flirtation. yes, i think there is. flirts of both sexes may be divided into two large classes--( ) the wanton and deliberate; ( ) the kindly and spontaneous. flirts. the first class are birds of prey. the man is probably very charming, a delightful companion, an ideal cavalier, a man whose society a woman always enjoys--especially if she does not take him seriously. it is she who fails to realise that she is only one of a large number who fall victims and suffer accordingly. she blissfully accepts his subtle suggestion that she is _the_ one woman in the world for him--so she is while they are together--and flatters herself that though he may have flirted with others he is really in love with her. when once the sport of the moment is over he leaves his prey, more or less cruelly wounded, and gaily seeks new fields for his prowess. this sort of man likes young and inexperienced girls or women whose confiding trust exceeds their power of discernment. it is an unpardonable breach of etiquette for a man to abuse hospitality and the privilege of intercourse by wanton conduct of this kind. making a girl conspicuous. a man should remember that it is the woman who suffers from the breath of slander or the pettiness of gossip. such { } things affect him but little, if at all. suppose that two young people belong to a public tennis or dramatic club. the man singles out one particular girl by his attentions, makes a point of always seeing her home, establishes himself as her constant cavalier, and thus puts it in the power of the gossips to say "well, if they are not engaged they ought to be!" after a time he cools off, for no other reason than that he is tired of the girl or has possibly seen a fresh and more attractive face. it may have dawned upon him that he might be asked his intentions, and he does not care to confess that he never had any. this course of action is especially unfair in the case of a young girl whose experience of men's ways is but beginning. an older woman ought to be able to take care of herself, and if she thinks such a game worth the candle, no one can blame the man for helping her to play it. the female flirt. a woman in the first class of flirts is possibly more dangerous than the man. she has no heart, only insatiable vanity. she uses her powers on all who come in her way, regardless of any claim another of her sex may have upon them. lover, husband, and friend, they are all fair game for her, and if hearts are damaged, well, she is always sure that her own will remain intact. her veracity is as elastic as her conscience. her charms are equalled by her unscrupulousness. she will keep the youth in bondage without the slightest intention of ever marrying him. she will fool the mature man who is desperately in earnest, while she is angling after some one wealthier or more amusing. if she does elect to wed one of her victims, it is, in all probability, only to carry out her devastating tactics on a larger scale. kindly, spontaneous flirts. the members of the second class, men and women, are charming without being dangerous. they love the society of the other sex; they have the art of pleasing and make use of it, but they play the game fairly. there is no poaching, no snares are laid for the unwary, and if harm is done it is because people have misunderstood them. the man flirts because he loves { } to say pretty things to a woman. he revels in an interchange of banter and repartee which makes her eyes sparkle and his pulses beat the faster. the girl flirts out of the abundance of her joyous vitality. she suits herself to the companion of the hour. she knows nothing of the tender passion, she is not taking life quite seriously yet, but she has the delicacy to draw back when she sees danger signals in the eyes or the lingering clasp of her friend's hand. she will not make a fool of him. she is too straight for that. withdrawing gracefully. it is no easy matter to change the course of things when one has drifted into a flirtation. it behoves a girl then to choose her man carefully, and not to place herself in any false position towards him. if he is not chivalrous enough to take a delicately conveyed hint, he will only imagine that she is playing a more subtle game of coquetry, and by redoubling his attentions make himself the reverse of agreeable. no man with any regard for the most elementary rules of etiquette would either embarrass a lady by keeping up a tone that she had even indirectly discouraged, or insult her by insinuating that she had led him on. he changes his mind on the verge of a proposal. this is bound to be an awkward development for both parties, and it will take all a man's tact to avoid giving pain, and possibly gaining credit for having behaved badly. it is, nevertheless, the best time for a change to come. it may be that he has idealised the object of his attentions, looked at her through eyes blinded by her beauty, or dazzled by her fascination. he has not stopped to think what sort of woman she really is, what lies beneath that fair exterior. then the word is spoken, the action witnessed, the mood revealed which makes him shrink from the thought of making her his wife. his way of escape. he will either seek safety in flight after a perfectly polite, but clearly-defined farewell; or he will gradually withdraw { } from the terms of intimacy upon which he has stood. in no way must he be discourteous either to the lady or her friends. slow awakening. a man may change his mind almost imperceptibly. he will not turn against the woman, but he will realise that she can never be more to him than a friend, a genial chum. the cause of this is most likely the advent of the right woman. force of contrast has a way of sorting people out. he will tell his friend the truth, and she will like him all the better for his confidence in her. how she accepts the situation. a brave, self-respecting woman will not like being left any more than her weaker sister, but she will take the blow standing, and be able to rejoice in the happiness of others. she will face her own sorrow alone and will utter no sound of complaint. it is an impertinence for acquaintances to condole with her. the sympathy of her loved ones will be hard enough to bear. she will be perfectly loyal to the woman her friend has chosen. how she may give encouragement. there are women who leave the men very little to do in the way of courtship. encouragement can, however, he given in a true womanly fashion. she can wear his flowers in preference to any others, and may judiciously let him see that she has kept the best in water after the dance. she will accept his escort and receive his attentions graciously, so as to show that they are valued. due reserve. she should never bestow effusive attentions on her lover, nor boast of his devotion to her. she may let him see that he stands well with her without telling him that he comes first. it is good for him to see that other men are in the running, and she must not let her feeling for him lead her into { } discourtesy to any one else. she can let him do the wooing without being either haughty or capricious, for no man likes a woman who openly runs after him. transparent devices. a nice-minded girl does not always try to detach her lover from the rest of the company, though she enjoys a _tête-à-tête_ as much as he does. she does not want to be sent with him on fictitious errands to the bottom of the garden. she leaves him to find the opportunities, and has a horror of her matchmaking relations. how she may ward off an unwelcome offer. it is commonly agreed that a woman ought to be able to do this in the vast majority of cases. her own intuition is seldom at fault. even at the eleventh hour she may save the situation by a timely jest, a kindly bit of inconsequence, a sudden humorous inspiration--not at his expense, of course--and the man who is not a fool will see that it is not the psychological moment. above all she must avoid being alone with him. let her keep a child at her side, pay attention to the greatest bore, listen with grateful patience to the most prosy person she knows, rather than leave the ground clear for him. she should not go for moonlight strolls, nor to look for the southern cross on board ship, if she really wants to stave off his proposal. there is no need to be rude, and even if she has to appear unsympathetic, that is better than to humiliate him by a rejection. some women glory over their hapless suitors as an indian counts his scalps. this is the height of bad taste and heartlessness. we may be forgiven for hoping that they get left in the end themselves. { } chapter vi _the question of age--young lovers--young men who woo maturity--old men who court youth--middle-aged lovers._ the question of age. at what age should the responsibilities of the married state be undertaken? in the best years of life if possible. not in the physical and mental immaturity of early youth. how can the child-wife of seventeen fulfil all the duties of her position, and endow her child with the needful strength for the journey of life? how can the boy of twenty be expected to work for three without getting weary before his day has well begun? and how can either of them really know wherein true happiness lies? most probably such a pair will learn to curse their folly before they reach maturity. but marriage should not be shelved, and driven off to the vague period called middle-age, without excellent reason. the woman of thirty-eight and the man of forty-five will spoil their children immoderately while they are little, and be out of touch with them as they grow up. the average mother of sixty is unable to keep pace with her young daughter. the man who is nearing seventy has travelled very far away from his son who is just starting life under present-day conditions. the best age. what is a suitable disparity between the ages of man and woman? a girl of two- or three-and-twenty and a man of twenty-eight or thirty are my ideal of a suitably matched couple. { } young lovers. "love at twenty-two is a terribly intoxicating draft," says a writer, and the sight of young lovers is one that softens all but the most cynical. we smile at their inconsequence; tremble, almost, at their rapturous happiness; yawn, it may be, over their mutual ecstasies, still we know they are passing through a phase, they are lifted for the time being out of the commonplace, and we make excuses. but these blissful young people are apt to take too much for granted. because doris worships harry it does not follow that her family are to be inflicted morning, noon, and night with his presence or his praises. she has no right to imply that every moment spent apart from him is wasted. she has no call to give up her share of household duties or to forsake her own studies, just to wander about restlessly counting the minutes till he shall come, or to spend the intervals between his visits in dressing for his next appearance. she should not look bored directly the conversation turns away from him, or exalt her idol over those who have loved and cared for her since infancy. young men who woo maturity. there seems to be a tendency nowadays for the surplus years to be on the woman's side. this is, in most cases, a grievous mistake. the girls are often to blame for it. in the pride of their youth they snub the young admirers whom they do not think worth their notice. an older woman knows how to heal the wound thus inflicted, and with her experience, her greater tolerance, and her charms mellowed, but not yet faded by age, she can win passionate devotion from one of these singed butterflies. she welcomes him with a dash of maternal tenderness in her manner, she takes an interest in his doings and subtly flatters his vanity, while her own heart is glad that she still has the power to please. drifting. he soon feels quite at home with her and grows more venturesome. she feels her youth renewed, and they drift into { } closer relations. she salves her conscience with the thought that she is keeping him out of harm's way. she makes no secret of the disparity between them, though she may avoid the cold fact of figures. he fondly thinks she will never grow old. such a connection may be the salvation of an unstable youth, especially if she does not let him marry her. she may make a man of him, a good husband for a girl young enough to be her daughter. she will not tell him to go and marry the girl, if she is in earnest, as such a course would only call forth his protests of undying devotion to herself; but she will imperceptibly let him see that she is no mate for him, and he will think he has found it out for himself. he may feel a little ashamed at leaving her, but she will make it easy for him, and perhaps give a sigh of relief that she has been saved from making a fool of herself. the dark side. for the woman who marries a man much younger than herself there is the inevitable picture of later life to be faced. the ridicule of society will be felt if it is not heard. the advance of age is relentless and will make her an old woman when he is just in his prime. she may pray for death to come and set him free, or she may paint her face and wear a golden wig, accentuating the ruthless lines round her tired eyes; but if they live long enough both husband and wife will suffer. the old man who courts youth. "the older we get the younger we like them!" was a favourite saying of an old fox-hunting squire i used to know. there are old men who seem to have lost but little of youth's vitality, and whom many a girl would be proud to marry. there are others--and it seems like an act of sacrilege to let any young life be linked to what remains of theirs. the old man disarms suspicion by his fatherly attitude, and the beginnings of courtship are made easy by the latitude allowed to his years. his experience stands him in good stead. an old unmarried man has generally either a very { } good or a very bad reason for being single. the girl who marries her grandfather's contemporary will probably regain her freedom while still in her prime; but she cannot calculate beforehand what price she will have paid for it. the real love of an old man must have much pathos in it, and she who accepts it must deal tenderly with it, even in her moments of disillusion. the elderly rake who buys a young wife from entirely selfish motives will see that he does not lose by the bargain. middle-aged lovers. no one would wish that the couple to whom love has come when youth has passed should take their pleasure sadly, but one does look for a self-restraint and dignity that shall be compatible with maturity. the woman of forty-five can love perhaps more deeply than the girl of eighteen. she can experience the full joy of being beloved; but she only exposes herself to ridicule if she takes the public into her confidence. it is not only bad taste to see such a one gushing over her lover, aping the little ways of sweet seventeen and coquetting like a kitten, telling the curious world, in fact, how rejoiced she is to be no more "an unappropriated blessing." poor soul! it may be that she has put through weary years of heart loneliness, but surely she might have learnt to hold her joy as sacred as her sorrow. let her smarten herself up, by all means. her happiness will suit nice gowns and dainty lace. let her choose warm colours and handsome fabrics, and shun white muslin and blue ribbons. the man. the middle-aged lover may be as impulsive as a boy, and his friends will smile, but not with the contempt they would show to the woman. he is generally very much in earnest, even if his motive be practical rather than romantic. he should be most careful never to hurt the woman he has chosen by neglecting her for younger, fresher faces. he should not suppose that she is too old to care for lover-like attentions. no woman is ever too old for that. he should { } not make her a laughing-stock by talking as if she were "sweet and twenty," or draw notice to the fact that she has passed her first youth. she will enjoy being taken care of, being planned for, and being eased of her burdens; but while showing her all courtesy let him give her credit for some self-reliance, for she has managed so far to get through life without him. { } chapter vii _proposals: premeditated, spontaneous, practical, or romantic--no rule possible--tact in choosing the opportunity--unseemly haste an insult to a woman--keen sense of humour dangerous to sentiment--some things to avoid--vaguely worded offers--when she may take the initiative._ proposals of marriage. the modes of making an offer of marriage are as manifold as the minds of the men who make them. the cautious, long-headed man, whose heart is ever dominated by his head, will think out the situation carefully beforehand, and couch his offer in moderate and measured terms. the impulsive lover will be carried away by a wave of emotion, and, perhaps before he has really made up his mind, will pour out the first passionate words that come to his lips. the clear-headed business man will not lose sight of the practical advantages to be gained from the union he suggests. the creature of romance will be poetic and delightful even if utterly impossible. it may be safely said, however, that no general rule can be laid down, and that no man ever asked this important question exactly in the words or at the time he had previously selected. tact in choosing the opportunity. the great thing is to seize the auspicious moment, to strike the responsive chord when the two minds are in harmony. a man who tries to propose when a servant is expected to arrive with a scuttle of coals, or when the children are just tumbling in from school, is not likely to meet with much { } favour. we cannot all have the momentous question put in the witching hour of moonlight, or in the suggestive stillness of a summer's eve, but the tactful man will know when to speak, and how to turn dull prose into the sweetest rhythm. too much haste. i do know of a case where two young people made acquaintance, wooed and married in something over a fortnight. no sane man would advocate such haste. it seems almost an impertinence for a lover to ask a woman to give herself into his keeping when he has only just made his entrance into her life. it must be admitted that love defies time as well as locksmiths. a few hours may bring kindred souls nearer to each other than double the number of years would do in an ordinary acquaintance. on board ship, especially in the tropics, things mature with a rapidity seldom found ashore. certain circumstances conspire to hasten the happy development, and certain conditions may justify exceptional haste. when a long separation is pending a man may be forgiven for hurrying to know his fate; but for the ordinary stay-at-home man to be introduced one week and propose the next is, to put it mildly, a doubtful compliment. too keen a sense of humour. a momentary realisation of the comic side of things may dash the cup of happiness from a woman's lips. an involuntary smile will be taken for heartlessness by the man who is so terribly in earnest. a humorous word will be little short of an insult, a jest but a proof of scorn. his vanity, if not his heart, will receive a wound that is not lightly to be healed. there are those who laugh from sheer nervous excitement; let them not lose the men they love by a lack of self-control that may be so cruelly misconstrued. some things to avoid. the nervous, unready wooer both endures and inflicts agonies of mind if he tries to make a verbal offer. he had { } much better write, for then he will at least be intelligible. the vacillating woman has no right to let a man propose to her and then accept him just because she cannot make up her mind to tell him the truth. she may mean to be kind, but she only causes unnecessary pain. no woman is justified in keeping a man in suspense while she angles for a better matrimonial prize. no honourable offer of marriage should be rejected rudely, unkindly, or with scorn. let there be but few words spoken, but let them be simple, courteous, and, above all, definite. let him see that you are sensible of the honour he has done you, even while you retain the right to dispose of your heart as you think best. vaguely worded offers. it is said that the indefinite form of proposal is in favour at present. it would seem that, however he may elect to say it, the man should clearly make the lady understand that he is asking her to be his wife. she cannot very well urge him to be explicit, and, while a modest woman might thus lose her lover, an intriguing female might annex a man who had never intended to propose to her. the suitor should be quite frank as to his social position and means. it may be necessary to enter into private details of his past life. he should not conceal anything like family disgrace from the one he is asking to share his name. her point of view. a woman who loves will not need to be told how to answer her lover's request. both lips and eyes will be eloquent without a teacher. there may be cases where a woman is justified in accepting a man for whom she only feels liking and respect, provided she has been quite frank with him, and he is content to have it so. if a man has the fidelity and pertinacity to ask a woman a second or third time he may find that the intervening years have worked in his favour; but no woman should say yes merely because she is tired of saying no. { } when she may take the initiative. old-fashioned folk say "never." an american writer, who calls himself "a speculative bachelor," has quite another idea on the subject. he asks: "shall girls propose?" "why is it that in the matter of initiative a coarse, unattractive young man should have the privilege to ask any unmarried woman in the whole world to marry him, while his refined and much more accomplished sister must make no motion towards any choice of her own except to sit still and wait for some other girl's mediocre brother to make a proposal to her?" he goes on to suggest that the practice is a survival of asiatic barbarism. while there is no denying the truth of the above picture, it does go against the grain to think of a woman asking a man to marry her. we know that ladies of queenly rank have to do it, and lose no dignity thereby; but we are not all anxious to be royal. there is something repellent in the idea of a direct offer of marriage coming from a woman's lips. indirectly, however, she may do much to further her own happiness. when she may help. a lady of high rank may take the initiative in breaking down the barrier of social inequality which she sees is standing between her and her lover, for a man who would be held back by such a consideration would be worth bending to. the very wealthy woman, who is so often wooed for her banking account, yet is well worthy to be loved for herself, may see with secret joy that only his comparative poverty is holding back the man of her choice, and she lets love melt the golden barrier that is keeping them apart. the woman whose heart has gone out to one physically handicapped in the race with his fellows; who knows that were he as other men he would woo her with the love he is now too noble to express, surely she may take the initiative, and only gain in womanly sweetness by so doing? the woman who realises that the assurance of her love and faith will impel the man to more strenuous effort, and make his working and waiting { } brighter for the goal that lies beyond, may be forgiven if in her intense sympathy she betray somewhat of her desire to crown his success. a warning. there must be no mistake made. the wish must not be father to the thought. she must be sure that she is beloved and desired. she must throw out the most delicate feelers, so sensitive that they will at once detect coldness, and withdraw into the shell of her reserve. she must not offer herself unsought. she may not fling herself into the arms of any man's pity. whether there are any women who avail themselves of the supposed privilege of leap year, is a question that can only be answered by those who possibly prefer to keep silence. it is a questionable joke when a man says before his wife that "she married him"; but can any self-respecting woman conceive the humiliation of having such words, with the sting of truth in them, flung at her in the moment of passion or with the cool contempt of scorn? { } chapter viii _engagements--the attitude of parents and guardians--making it known--in the family--to outside friends--congratulations--the choice and giving of the ring--making acquaintance of future relations--personally or by letter._ engagements. in former days etiquette demanded that the suitor should first make his request to the lady's parents. this may still be done with advantage in exceptional cases, notably that of a young man with his way still to make, but whose love and ambition prompt him to choose a wife from the higher social circle to which he hopes to climb. in the ordinary run of life the suitor goes first to the principal person, and when fortified by her consent bravely faces the parental music. it is not honourable for a man to make a girl an offer when he knows that her parents have a pronounced objection to him as a son-in-law. so long as she is under age, or in a dependent position, he has no right to ask her to either deceive or defy those to whom she owes duty and obedience. the interview. "asking papa" is often a momentous matter. some fathers are quite unreasonable, but the more honest and straightforward the suitor is the better. let him be modest, but without cringing. there should be no suspicion that he is conferring a favour; he is rather asking a man to give him of his best, and it is his love that emboldens him to make the request. he should state plainly what his income and prospects are, the probable date at which he will be able to marry, and how he { } proposes to provide for his wife. he must not resent being somewhat closely questioned before his reception into a family, and should be ready to give all particulars respecting himself that may be required. parents who value their daughter do right to exercise wise forethought before entrusting her to a comparative stranger. he should carefully avoid any unseemly curiosity as to what marriage portion his bride will have. most men state plainly how their daughters will be dowered, unless they have reason to suspect the suitor of mercenary motives. the father in his turn owes a measure of confidence to his child's lover, and there are some warnings that it is cruel to withhold, notably where there is any taint of insanity in the family. in the case of a fatherless girl the suitor must address himself to her mother, nearest relative, or guardian. refusal. where consent to the engagement is refused, a man of honour and good-feeling will abide by the decision, and not try to force his way into a family where he is unwelcome. he need not necessarily be fickle. time may bring things about that will enable him, without loss of dignity, to make another and more successful attempt. attitude of parents and guardians. parents are often placed in great difficulties by their daughters' love affairs. they may refuse to countenance an engagement, but they cannot change the minds of the young people. on the contrary, opposition brings a sense of martyrdom which will strengthen the misplaced affection, while with judicious indifference it might have died a natural death. it is a question whether the affair shall go on in secret, nominally unknown to them, or whether they shall so far countenance it as to leave no excuse for deception. now that so much legitimate freedom is given to girls, i cannot think that a man is acting honourably in wooing his love "under the rose," and exposing her to the matter of scandal-mongers. where there is nothing against a man's character or { } antecedents, if he is able to support a wife, and the lovers are attached to each other, it seems tyrannical for parents to refuse their consent, and thus spoil their daughter's happiness. making it known. once the engagement is ratified by the consent of the powers that be, a few days should elapse before the event is made public. the lady's parents generally give a dinner party to their most intimate friends, or an at home if they wish to include a larger number of guests, at which the important announcement is made. the father or mother will tell the news to the most important guest or nearest relation, and it will gradually spread. possibly the health of the happy pair may be drunk. friends at a distance. the mother of the lady writes to tell friends at a distance, but the _fiancée_ would tell the good news to her own particular chums in an informal way. a motherless girl must do it all for herself. the man tells his own people and friends of his good fortune in the way that suits him best. congratulations. there are many ways of offering good wishes to the engaged couple. a warm clasp of the hand and a few heartfelt words are better than all the studied elegance of phrase in the world. it is often difficult to be quite sincere in offering our congratulations, for our friends choose rather oddly, to our tastes, sometimes. when the choice of your dear friend falls on your pet abomination the case is hard indeed. you can congratulate _him_, though you want to tell him she is worlds too good for him; but what to say to _her_ when you feel that she is making a disastrous match is a painful problem. you can honestly wish that her brightest dreams may be realised, even where you have little hope of it. let there be no bitterness in the congratulations. respect the happiness of the lovers even if you cannot understand it. { } the ring. in choosing the ring the lover should first think of its durability and then of its sweet symbolism. it should be the best he can afford, and the small detail of fit is not to be ignored. the choice of stones and style will depend upon taste and the money available, but, personally, i like an engagement ring to be of special design, unlike any that other women are likely to wear. one good stone is far better than a number of smaller ones. making acquaintance with future relations. this is one of the bride-elect's sorest trials, for even when people like a girl very well as a friend, they do not always welcome her as a member of their family. she must face the fact that they have not chosen her, and the more simply and naturally she bears herself under the inevitable criticism the better. it is fatal to _try_ and make a good impression. tact and intuition will do a great deal for her, but much lies in the power of his relations to make or mar the happiness of her entry into their midst. i know of a girl, who lived a long way from her _fiancé_, who was made quite miserable during her occasional visits to his home by the discourtesy of his sisters. he was in town all day, and of course knew nothing of the discomfort she endured in his absence. he knows now, and it has not increased his brotherly love. what she should avoid. it is bad manners in a girl to try and show off her power over her lover in his own home, or anywhere else, for the matter of that. it is foolish to pretend that she does not care for him, or to talk of her wedding-day as if it were her execution. i have known girls who did this. she should not devote herself exclusively to him, and thereby fail in courtesy to his family or their friends. she should not boast of her own people, or infer that her home is superior to theirs. she should guard especially against anything that looks like wishing to oust her lover's mother from her place in his affections. women are nearly always a little jealous of the girls their sons marry, and care must be taken to disarm this. { } letters. when the introductions take place mainly by letter, many stumbling-blocks are removed from the path of the bride-elect. it only behoves her to reply with ready, grateful recognition to the words of welcome, which should be gracious and warm-hearted on the part of his friends. the following may serve as an example:-- from his mother "my dear sybil,--frank has told me of his engagement to you, and i am writing to tell you how glad i am and how fully i enter into his happiness. i feel sure, my dear child, that he will make you a good and loving husband, for he has been such a dear son to me. "i have always prayed that he might find a wife who would appreciate his love and share his highest interests. i am now satisfied that he has done this, dear. i want you to come and stay with me as soon as you can, so that we may learn to understand each other. it ought not to be difficult, now that we have so much in common.--with kind love, believe me, affectionately yours, alice stanley." the above letter would imply that the mother knew a good deal about the girl her son was going to marry, and of course she would try to write in a cordial strain, even though she was taking her future daughter-in-law upon the son's recommendation. the girl's answer might be on these lines:-- "my dear mrs. stanley,--you cannot think how glad i was to receive your most kind letter. it is such a relief to feel that you do not disapprove of frank's choice. i only hope that you may still approve when you know me better. i am delighted to accept your kind invitation, and can come on the th if that will suit you. i can hardly yet realise my great happiness, and feel that i can never do enough for frank.--with many thanks for your kindness, believe me, with love, yours affectionately, sybil carlton." { } chapter ix _his visits to her home--the engaged couple in public--in society--visiting at the same house--going about together--the question of expenses._ his visits to her home. if distance parts the loving couple he will only be able to spend his leave, or annual holidays, with her, and will make a point of consulting her movements before he lays any plans for his leisure time. if he could meet her abroad, or at the seaside, he would not go off yachting without her, nor postpone his holiday till the shooting had begun rather than spend the month of june with her in the suburbs. if he lives in the same neighbourhood as his beloved he will have many opportunities of being with her. he ought never to neglect his work for his courtship, and a girl should be very careful not to propose such a thing. it is a poor lookout for their future if they put pleasure first. he will probably be expected or permitted to spend two or three evenings a week at her home, dine there on sundays, and, if he is busy all the week, devote saturday afternoons to her entirely. a man of leisure can make his own arrangements; the business or professional man must do his love-making when he can. the engaged couple in public. "some men like to advertise their kissing rights," said an engaged man to me the other day; "but for my part i don't think there should be anything in the bearing of an engaged couple in public to indicate that they are more than friends." here, i think, we have the etiquette of the matter in a nutshell. wherever the lovers are they will be supremely conscious of each other's presence, but it need not be writ { } large over their actions. it is sometimes debated whether lovers should kiss in public. as the sweetest kisses must ever be those exchanged "under four eyes," as the germans put it, there seems little advantage in a mere conventional "peck" in the public gaze. a close clasp of the hand, a silent greeting of the eyes, will be truer to the love that is held too sacred for exhibition. the man's attentions should never merge into questionable hilarity. he ought to respect as well as love the woman he hopes to marry. she should equally avoid gushing and tyrannising over him. to see a girl ordering her _fiancé_ about, making him fetch and carry like a black boy, and taking his submission as her due, is enough to justify the hope that the worm will turn to some purpose when she least expects it. there should be nothing abject in love on either side. it hurts to see the dog-like look of entreaty in human eyes. things should be more on a level; the hearts of man and woman should give and take gladly of their best, with love that is pure, brave, and unashamed. in society. mutual friends will be sure to invite the engaged couple to various social functions. where it is possible and convenient they will arrive and leave together. he will naturally be eager to escort her about as much as he can; they must, however, be prepared to sacrifice themselves on such occasions. he will see that she has all she wants at a garden party or at home, but he will not glare at another man for handing her an ice or a cup of tea; nor will he neglect his duties to sit in his sweetheart's pocket, or stand behind her chair to warn off intruders. on the other hand he will not attract attention by devoting himself to any one particular lady, or play into the hands of the wanton flirt. a well-bred woman or girl will not give herself away by allowing awkward pauses to break the conversation because her thoughts and eyes are hungrily trying to follow her lover, who is manfully assisting the hostess. she will not make herself conspicuous in her behaviour with any other admirer, but be perfectly at ease with any man to whom she may have occasion to speak. if any of the lady's friends wish to make her _fiancé's_ acquaintance they will send him an invitation to a dance or party through her, not an informal message, but a card such as they send to their other guests, which she will pass on to him. { } visiting at the same house. the engaged couple are not considered good company by outsiders, so when they are included in a house-party they should exercise a little healthful self-control. the cosy corners, shady walks, and secluded nooks are not their monopoly. the two who are beginning to make love ought to have a chance. others may have business to discuss, arrangements to make, or letters to write for which they desire privacy, and the pervading presence of the betrothed pair is apt to become irritating. when etiquette requires that they should be parted, it is their duty to fall in courteously with any arrangement their hostess may make. going about together. the amount of _tête-à-tête_ intercourse will differ in almost every case. it seems most natural that lovers should go about together as much as possible, seeing that they are learning to pass their lives together. the girl who has taken little expeditions with her _fiancé_ will be spared much of the embarrassment that might mar the opening of the honeymoon if she felt shy and strange, cut off from all her old moorings. they will spend long days on the river, take rambles into the country, see the sights of the town, and do a hundred other things that will be doubly delightful just because they are alone together. the question of expenses. it is sometimes taken for granted that the _fiancé_ must pay all expenses when he takes his sweetheart about. this, i think, should depend upon circumstances. the rich lover does well to lavish his money upon his future wife, and will { } take a pride in so doing. the man of moderate means who has to work for his income will do well to put by all he can for future emergencies, and if the girl to whom he is engaged has her own money or an ample allowance, it is much better that they should come to an understanding to share the cost of their pleasures, in view of possible necessities. this need not prevent the poorer man from spending a certain amount upon his love. every now and then there will be special days when he will play the host, and they will be red-letter days to both. if she is going anywhere by his special invitation he would naturally defray her expenses; but on their weekly jaunts why should he be put to the double outlay when he wants to save all he can to start their home? why should he reduce his balance at the bank by first-class fares, theatre tickets, and taxis two or three times a week, when he may have to borrow money to buy their furniture? no girl ought to expect or encourage this sort of thing. she is not afraid of being under an obligation to him, for love knows no such thing, but she has the wisdom to look ahead. { } chapter x _love-letters--long or short engagements--broken engagements--clandestine engagements--when justifiable--the mother in the secret--friends who act as go-between._ love-letters. there are, i believe, engaged couples who, after parting from each other at p.m., write a long letter before going to bed that night, containing all that they had not time to say. if they have the time and energy to spare it concerns no one but themselves; but it seems a pity to make a rule of this sort, as it may become a tax, and the breaking of it on either side may cause pain if not friction. there will be times without number when delightful little love-letters will have to be written. they will come as a joyful surprise and be twice as sweet as those that are expected. when daily or even frequent meetings are impossible, then the love-letter has a most important part to play in the course of true love. letters are a very valuable addition to personal intercourse. it is not safe to judge a person entirely from them, but taking them side by side with personal knowledge they throw a good deal of light on a character. the glamour of the beloved presence is not there to blind, the charm of manner or voice is not powerful to fascinate, so the words stand on their own merits. sometimes they do not quite fit in with what we know of the writer. they show us another side of one we love. it may be endearing, it may be the reverse. in any case the letters that pass between an engaged couple should be kept absolutely private. we know the story of the man who wrote the same love-letters to two girls, who { } discovered his treachery by comparing their respective treasures. such a case is, i hope, purely fictional, but there ought to be some exceptionally good reason for divulging the sweet nothings that go to make up the typical love-letter. for the one to whom they are addressed they will be sublime, to the outsider they will probably be only ridiculous. the length of engagements. considering what a vital change marriage is bound to bring into the lives of those who make the contract, it would seem the height of rashness to hurry into it with a person of whom one knows but little. it may be contended that the mutual attitude of lovers during their engagement is not calculated to enlarge their real knowledge of each other. certainly not, if the marriage is to take place while they are at fever-heat, living in a whirl of emotional rapture. but let an engagement be long enough for their love to settle down into a more normal state, where their reasoning faculties will be able to work--then they will gain a clearer estimate of their mutual fitness, and may learn a good deal about each other. it has been said that no man should make an offer of marriage till he is in a position to support a wife. this is a little hard. if a man is worth having, he is worth waiting for. he has no right to speak till he has some definite prospect in view, or unless he is fully determined to do his best to further his own interests. no girl or woman should be expected to waste her youth and wear out her heart as the promised wife of a man who is not trying to make their marriage possible. above all, no man should be mean enough to take money from the one to whom he is engaged merely to indulge his own idleness. a year or eighteen months may be taken as a fair time for the engagement of those who have known but little of each other beforehand. in the case of long intimacy six months will probably suffice. a girl exposes herself to much unpleasant criticism by urging on a hasty marriage. even if she feels impatient, she should let that sort of thing come from the man. if he lets the time drag on with seeming { } indifference or satisfaction, she should ask one of her parents to speak to him on the subject, and if she guesses that he has no real desire to marry her, she had far better give him up altogether than urge him to take the step unwillingly. broken engagements. it sometimes happens that during this period of courtship either the man or the woman realises that a mistake has been made; if so, let it be rectified before a still more serious one be committed. it is a delicate matter for a man to take the initiative. no woman should drive him to do so. let her make him a present of his freedom before he has to ask for it. it is due to a man's self-respect to break with a woman who openly and wantonly disregards his wishes on any important point. in the same way if a man will not give up bad habits, such as gambling, intemperance, or whatever it may be, for the sake of the girl he is engaged to, she may be pretty sure that he will not do it when she is his wife. let him choose between her and his vices. once the engagement is at an end the ring and other presents should be sent back, unless by special mutual arrangement to the contrary. letters are either burnt or returned to the writer. there is a good deal of sentiment about these written proofs of a love that has proved a failure, on one side at least. the two who have been so nearly one now become mere acquaintances again in the eyes of the world, and will probably not be anxious to meet for some time to come. clandestine engagement. the obstacle to true love in former days was parental authority, which often savoured of tyranny. in these days of liberty the young people have it more their own way. when parents object to a lover on the mere ground of his poverty, or some personal prejudice, a girl may be excused for making her own choice when she is of age. if she binds herself secretly to a man whose moral unfitness is objected to, she is courting certain misery and possible disgrace. { } a justifiable case. it would seem, then, that where parental consent is refused on the ground of advisability, not of vital principle, the girl is justified in holding herself bound till such time as she is free to give her hand in marriage. she will use this bond as a defence against other suitors who may be urged upon her. she will not flaunt her decision in the parental face, nor cause ructions by tactlessly obtruding the bone of contention; but she will be firm and loyal, true to herself and to him she loves. where the mother shares the secret. where the father is somewhat of a spartan there is not unfrequently a gentle, sympathetic mother, who will dare much to make her child happy. the daughter is well advised to make such a mother her confidante. a woman who schemes to entangle a young man of wealth or high rank into a secret engagement with her daughter, who she knows is no suitable wife for him, is neither honest to him nor kind to her child. such unequal marriages seldom answer in real life. there must be sympathy, and a certain community of interests to make marriage a success. friends who act as go-between. there is a spice of romance in helping distressed and persecuted lovers; but young people should be very careful not to mix themselves up in such matters. their own experience is too limited to qualify them for the task. older friends must take the consequences of such interference. sometimes their help is most ill-advised; still, for a time at least, the lovers will be intensely grateful to them. there is one thing that seems quite unjustifiable, and that is for a secretly engaged pair to make a friend's house their rendezvous without telling the friend exactly how matters stand. it is an abuse of hospitality, for it is pretty sure to bring unpleasantness to the friend, who will inevitably be blamed by the parents when the secret leaks out, or an elopement takes { } place. trains, telephones, and telegraphs have robbed the latter episode of all its old-world reckless charm, and it really seems hardly worth the doing. in some cases a married friend may intervene to prevent any scandal from touching the wilful bride. if the young folks will not listen to reason, it is as well for their folly to be carried out as respectably as possible; but all such sympathy should be tempered by judgment, for the making or marring of two lives is in the balance, and the happiness of many hearts may be at stake. { } chapter xi _foreign etiquette of engagements--betrothal a much more serious matter than in england._ in no other country is an engagement so informal as in england. we find all sorts of ceremonies connected with the plighting of a troth which seems but little less important than the tying of the marriage knot itself. there is less spontaneity and exercise of private judgment on the part of the young people; in fact, there are several countries in which they are allowed no voice in the matter. in italy girls are kept quite in the background, and have a very dull time. this makes them ready to accept any suitor their parents may choose. a meeting is arranged between the young people, and after that he pays stiff visits to her home, generally in the evening, but they are never left alone together, and he is not allowed to pay her any marked attention even before others. they may exchange photographs, and she may work him a little present; but it is all lifeless, passionless, and business-like. among the peasantry there is more of the picturesque, and many quaint customs still survive. marriage-brokers do a good trade, and get a percentage on each pair that they see through the ordeal of a wedding. in frascati, parents with marriageable sons and daughters assemble on sunday afternoons in the chief piazza. the men sit on one side and the women on the other. in the intervening space the candidates for matrimony walk about--the girls near their mothers, the youths under their fathers' eyes. by some mysterious process of selection they sort themselves into couples, or, rather, the parents make mutual advances on behalf of their children and they are betrothed. { } in france similar restrictions are placed upon lovers, and no one under the age of twenty-five can contract a legal marriage without the consent of his or her parents. if three appeals have been made in vain for parental sanction, there may be an appeal to the law. the proposed marriage must also be publicly announced beforehand, or it is invalid. in _brittany_ there is a strange mixture of the romantic and the practical. the village tailor is the usual negotiator who interviews both the lovers and their parents. when he has smoothed the way, the intending bridegroom pays his first visit, which is accompanied by many pretty customs. he is allowed to take his sweetheart aside, and no one dares to interrupt this, their first, _tête-à-tête_. meanwhile the elders discuss business, and when the lovers come back to the family circle a feast is enjoyed, at which the parents bless the food, and the lovers are only allowed one knife and plate between them. the signing of the wedding contract later on is another festivity, and the presents are mostly of a useful nature. german betrothals are more or less formal, though the young couple are allowed to choose for themselves. the suitor has not much chance of seeing the lady alone before he has made up his mind; he must be circumspect, or his intentions will be promptly inquired into. he puts on his sunday clothes with lavender kids when he comes to ask the important question, and as soon as a satisfactory answer has been obtained the happy pair are congratulated by the family, and the table is decorated for the festive meal. they go out arm-in-arm to call upon their friends in a day or two, and a formal announcement is not only sent round to all their acquaintance, but is also inserted in the daily papers. great attention must be paid to the exact title possessed by every one connected with the happy pair, as titles count for much in germany. the engaged girl is called a bride, and her lover a bridegroom, before marriage. she shows her prowess in the culinary line by preparing the meals to which he is invited. they are not supposed to travel alone; even if they are going to stay with his relations, some lady must { } accompany them. in many cases the parents have qualms about allowing too much _tête-à-tête_ intercourse to the engaged couple, but greater liberty is gradually being given. in russia it is considered a disgrace for a woman to be unmarried, and if no suitor offers himself, she leaves her home and settles in a strange place as a widow. she may prefer to travel for a time, and return home with a pitiful tale of the husband she lost at sea, or who died at the beginning of the honeymoon. the priests often act as intermediaries, but sometimes a woman versed in dark lore makes the arrangements. at the betrothal feast the girl gives her lover a long lock of her hair, and he gives her a silver ring set with turquoise, bread and salt, and an almond cake. this interchange of gifts is equal to a marriage bond. all the presents have a symbolical meaning; the rings are bought from and blessed by the clergy, and are treasured as heirlooms in the family. in spain girls are most jealously guarded, and marriages are arranged by the parents. still the romantic element is not wanting. the young man sees the lady who steals his heart, and begins to woo her from a distance with eyes and voice till he can gain an introduction to her family. the main joy in a spanish courtship is the clandestine prelude to the actual engagement. he may follow the lady about and serenade her, according to regulations, but he may not speak till he is introduced. she appears to ignore his attentions, but she misses nothing. the courtship is often protracted, but the girl is given freedom of choice. the law can come to the assistance of lovers whose union is prevented by their parents, in the same way as in france. the amount of liberty given to the engaged couple differs in various districts, but throughout spain the love making may be said to end with marriage. in murcia they may not meet or speak unless her mother is present, and the lover may neither touch the hand nor kiss the lips of his sweetheart till she is his wife. { } sweden. unmarried girls in this country enjoy an unrivalled reputation for gaiety and merriment. bread is considered a love charm, and the two who eat from the same loaf will fall in love with each other. the suitor often sends an ambassador to a girl he has never seen, and if his proposal is accepted he calls the next sunday. the lady is not supposed to take any notice of him, but continues her knitting in a stolid fashion. in some parts there is a religious betrothal ceremony, when plain gold rings are exchanged; but the more usual way of celebrating an engagement is by a social festivity. the lover must give a "yes-gift" to his future bride, which consists of a gold or silver cup--the size is not stipulated--filled with coins wrapped up in quite new white tissue-paper. he also gives her a prayer-book, while she offers in return some garment she has made for him herself. if it is a shirt he wears it on his wedding-day, and then lays it aside to wear in his grave. these quaint customs are mostly found in the country districts. town-dwellers merely send out cards with the names of the pair printed on each one, and further announcements appear in the papers. in switzerland there is not much romance in either wooing or wedding. the swiss may not marry till the youth is eighteen and the girl sixteen, and up to the age of twenty the consent of parents or guardians is necessary. when the time draws near for the wedding, the pair must go together to a civil officer, and must each present him with a certificate of birth, and tell him their ages, names, professions, and where they and where their parents live. he then writes a deed containing their promise of marriage, which must be made public for at least a fortnight in the places where they were born, where they are living at the time, and where they wish to be married. if nobody makes an objection the ceremony can take place. may-day is sacred to lovers in lucerne. he plants a small decorated pine-tree before her house at dawn, and if he is accepted a right royal feast is prepared for him. the little tree is { } treasured till the first baby appears. a swiss peasant girl is often compelled to take the lover who lives nearest to her home, as the introduction of an outsider is resented by the men of the place. the hungarian likes to linger over his wooing, and he is a past master in the art. the lovers have absolute freedom of intercourse, and secure privacy in the family circle by making a tent of his large, graceful cloak, under which they sit and make love undisturbed. all the actual formalities go through a third person, and much ceremony is observed in the negotiations. the first stage of courtship is marked by the "loving cup" feast, and the binding betrothal is known as the "kissing feast." in norway courtship is of necessity a very long process among the peasant folk, for money is not easily earned, and no man may marry till he is a householder, while houses may only be built in certain places and under fixed regulations. seven years is quite an average time for an engagement, during which they do their love-making in a simple, unaffected manner. no man ever jilts a woman, and broken engagements are almost unknown. in _greece_ parents pay a man to marry their daughter, and no man may marry till all his own sisters are provided with _trousseaux_ and dowers. the girl who _accepts_ an offer of marriage in _greenland_ is for ever disgraced. her father may give her away or her husband may drag her by her hair to his own tent, and it is all right. she must be married by capture, against her own will, and the love comes afterwards, if at all. a thuringian girl gives her suitor sausage to eat as a sign that he is rejected. a spanish maid presents her lover with a pumpkin as her way of saying "no." in the russian district of the ukraine the lady does the courting, and { } besieges the man in his own house. courtesy will not let him turn her out, so if he does not want her he has to seek other quarters for himself. on the isthmus of darien either man or woman can take the initiative, so every one gets a good chance all round. it is not possible, here, to touch upon the elaborate betrothal and marriage customs of the east. { } chapter xii _marriage--fixing the day--preparations--selecting the bridesmaids and their dresses--the wedding gown--the trousseau--invitations._ marriage. the aim of all true courtship is marriage, which should take place as soon as an engagement has lasted long enough to serve its purpose, and when other circumstances are propitious. when the man's financial position is sufficiently secured, and the woman is willing to renounce her freedom for bonds that should be blessed, he asks her to "name the happy day." fixing the day. in foreign countries there are many superstitions as to the fitness or unfitness of days, times, and seasons; but in england may appears to be the only month supposed to be unlucky for weddings. the reason for this does not seem clear. the couplet "if married in lent you are sure to repent," is an echo from the days when church discipline was stricter than it is now, and the time set apart for spiritual sorrow was not considered suitable for the crowning of earthly happiness. even in the present day very few marriages are celebrated during the season of lent. there are many people and things to take into account when fixing the important date. if the bridegroom elect is not his own master a time must be chosen when he is sure to be at liberty. it was said of the late sir walter besant { } that he was so overwhelmed with business that he hardly had time to be married. the bride's father has also to be considered, and if any particular church dignitary is required to perform the ceremony his engagements will have to be taken into account. when possible it is well to let a good interval elapse between the final decision and the day itself. a month or six weeks is none too much; more than this is often allowed. the bride's burden. there is a great deal of mental wear and tear for the bride-elect to go through in the few weeks immediately before her marriage, and it is a pity that it should be so. the fuss and display at an up-to-date wedding make it a thing to quail before. dress has become so extravagant and absorbing that in the matter of her clothes alone the girl has her time pretty well taken up. instead of being able to prepare calmly and restfully for the most vital step in life, she is kept in a ceaseless whirl of mental and physical excitement till she is well-nigh worn out. in any case care should be taken to avoid a rush at the last. let her have at least a few days of peace and quietness in which to prepare for the great event. how can she realise the solemnity of the vows she is going to make, or the gravity of the responsibility she is taking upon her shoulders, if she never has a moment to think and is being hurried from milliner to dressmaker, from jeweller to shoemaker, from furrier to glovemaker, day in day out? the choice of the bridesmaids. in some families this is a difficult matter, and may be the cause of much friction. the bride's sisters, if she has any, take precedence. there may be a dear friend who has been promised this office since she and the bride were at school together, but then _his_ sisters expect to be asked, and they may be neither attractive nor very young. when the desired number is but small, the problem is sometimes solved by having two or three children and forswearing all adults. this is certainly a prettier and less expensive arrangement, for children look more picturesque as bridesmaids than the { } average half-dozen grown-up girls who cannot be chosen for their appearance. elderly bridesmaids in youthful frocks and girlish hats are ridiculous to the unthinking, but pathetic to those who look below the surface. wedding frocks. "married in white you have chosen all right," says the old rhyme, and the "ivory duchesse satin" seems to have come to stay. there should, however, be some regard for the future social position of the bride in choosing the wedding gown. the girl who is marrying a man with a small income, and who is prepared to begin housekeeping on a simple scale, is not likely to want a magnificent satin dinner-gown with a court train. a much less expensive frock would answer her requirements far better, for, with the ever-changing fashions, the costly material would have to be cut up and altered many a time before it was worn out. it is a pity to weigh down a young girlish bride with heavy brocades and silks that stand alone. her freshness and beauty will stand a simpler setting, and look all the sweeter in it. there are so many soft, diaphanous fabrics made now, which fall into graceful draperies, that i would like the young bride clad in some of them. the bridesmaids' dresses. the choice of a costume for the bridesmaids is not an easy matter. you can find one that will suit two sisters to perfection, but there are the others, with possibly such colouring as to forbid the very thing that another will look her best in. white is taken as being generally safe and becoming, but when worn unrelieved in the daytime it is very trying to some. there are also the height and build of the various girls to be considered, so altogether the matter demands much care and taste. expense. the question of cost should not be ignored unless the bride is in a position to give all the dresses, then she may be as lavish as she thinks fit. it is hardly fair to expect her friends to go to the most { } expensive house and to buy the most costly hats and frocks, which will perhaps be of little use to them afterwards, merely for her personal gratification. this is especially the case where two sisters are asked to be bridesmaids. a girl may long to attend her friend to the altar, and yet be obliged to decline because her parents cannot afford the outlay necessitated by the extravagance of the costume. if one has her frock made by an artiste, the others must follow suit or the picture is spoilt. the bride who is married in her travelling dress does not have bridesmaids but attendants, whose dresses should harmonise but not eclipse her own. due regard should be paid to the time of year in the choice of materials. white gauzy frocks look chill and comfortless in mid-winter, even if the wearers do not shiver perceptibly and are not afflicted with red noses; but soft, thick fabrics like white cloth or velvet trimmed with touches of fur, suggest the warmth that lies beneath the snow. the flowers of the season may well provide schemes of colour, for nature is the prince of artists. primrose and daffodil tints for the spring, the warm tones of the chrysanthemum for the autumn, while summer sunshine makes everything look well. the trousseau. a young friend of mine who was going to be married last year said to me: "oh! my things are so lovely! i never knew how delightful it was to be able to have all the beautiful things you want." this sentiment will be echoed by most of the fairly-well dowered brides of to-day. there is generally a fixed sum set apart for the trousseau, and the amount must necessarily control the extent of the purchases. the _lingerie_ and underwear can be obtained from about ten guineas, with prices varying according to the number and quality of the garments, up to forty or fifty guineas. dresses, boots and shoes, and all out-door wear, including hats, must be added on to this outlay. few people buy many dresses at once now, on account of the changeful whims of fashion; but the great point is to have the few gowns of good material and excellent cut. there are a hundred items, only known to a woman { } or her maid, with which the bride should be well stocked. it is a disgrace to don a costly opera-cloak when you have not a decent dressing-gown, or to load yourself with finery when your stockings are in holes. feminine attire is so dainty and fascinating in the present day that there is a danger of setting more value on the trimmings and make than on the quality of the material. let the bride-elect try to picture her pretty things when they emerge from the ruthless hands of a laundress, and she will realise the value of quality. where anything like regular or hard wear is required, it is always good economy to buy the best. all garments that need to be marked must have the initials of the bride's married name upon them. all women are supposed to love shopping. surely no expeditions can be so delightful as going to buy the trousseau with a well-stocked purse! invitations. these are sent out by the bride's mother, or whoever acts in that capacity. any good stationer will have plenty of printed cards, such as are generally used, from which a choice may be made. simplicity of design is always a mark of refinement. the wording would be as follows: mr. and mrs. carstairs request the pleasure of captain and mrs. boyd's company at _the marriage of their daughter_ gladys with mr. sydney boroughs, at s. john's, beckenham, _on wednesday, april th, at p.m.,_ and afterwards at the grange. r.s.v.p. any friend who has sent a present before the invitations are out must be invited. the general feeling seems to be that { } an invitation to a wedding involves a present, and that is rather a tax. it also takes away from that purely voluntary spirit which is the beauty of a gift. in some cases friends are only asked to the church, the reception at home being confined to members of the two families. a bridesmaid who lives at a distance must be asked to stay at the bride's home for a few days before the wedding. the death of a near relation would necessitate the postponement of the wedding, and this would cancel all invitations. in cases of loss more remote from the young couple, the wedding takes place soon after the first date, "but quietly, owing to family bereavement." a notice to this effect is often put in the papers when a marriage has been publicly announced, but in a more private affair, notes would be sent to those who had been invited. { } chapter xiii _wedding presents--choosing and furnishing the house--what the bridegroom supplies--the bride's share in the matter._ wedding presents. with the increasing luxury and love of display that marks modern life the wedding-present tax, as i have heard it called, becomes a burden proportionately heavy to the social ambition of the giver. it seems a pity that there should be so much vulgarising advertisement about what are supposed to be private weddings. there is also too much routine in the choice of the gifts themselves. the perennial mustard-pots and salt-cellars are monotonous, and while comparative strangers may be driven to make a conventional offering, private friends might leave the groove and strike out a new line. cheques are only given by old friends or relations of the recipient. they are always acceptable. the future position of the couple should be taken into account. good silver is always a joy, except perhaps when you have to keep it clean. the young wife with only one servant will have to rub up her own silver backed brushes and sweetmeat dishes if she wants them to look nice. of course it may be said that extra silver can be put by till circumstances improve, or that it might be useful in a financial emergency. this last idea is rather a gruesome one to take to a wedding, and it is in the early days of her housekeeping that the young wife likes to have her pretty things about her. why an artistic chair or table should not be as suitable as an _entrée dish_ i do not quite see, and if a place is to look homelike pictures are quite as necessary as silver pepper-pots. { } a temptation. both bride and bridegroom receive presents, some for individual, others for mutual use. the bride must promptly and personally acknowledge all those that are sent to her, and the bridegroom does the same on his own account. presents from mutual friends would be mutually acknowledged, especially if the gift were sent to both of them. when one does not feel very kindly disposed to the man or woman whom our dear friend is going to marry there is a great temptation--i don't know that it need be resisted--to send a gift that will be the property and pleasure of that friend, and not to give the mutual mustard-pot into which both will dip the spoon. how to send them. all wedding presents should be nicely and daintily packed up. sometimes they are better sent from the shop direct, but in that case the card or cards of the donors should accompany them. many people tie their cards on with narrow white ribbon, and anything that adds to the daintiness of a present is to be commended. it is a very sensible plan for relations to let the young people choose their own sideboard or dinner service, instead of buying it for them. there is only one drawback to this arrangement. the thing that costs the most is so often the thing we want most, even before we know the price, and it would not be nice to feel we had trespassed on the generosity of the giver by inducing him to spend more than he intended. it is becoming the fashion for members of a family to club together and give a handsome piece of jewellery, instead of each one presenting a smaller trinket. this might well be done with more practical presents. the art of giving. much of the pleasure afforded by a gift is contained in the way it is given. there is an exquisite art in giving. many people choose a present just because they happen to like the thing themselves, whereas a gift should be selected entirely with a view to the pleasure or use it will afford to its future owner. a grand piano is no good to a girl who will not have { } a room large enough to hold it and herself. costly china is only an encumbrance to a woman who is going to follow the fortunes of her soldier husband, and who will not have a settled home for years. there must be kindly sympathy in the choice of gifts as well as tact and courtesy in the offering of them. the selection of the house. whenever it is possible the young or newly married couple should start their life together in a home of their own. i would warn all brides to superintend the choice of that home. a man, certainly one of the nicest kind, has not what may be called a domestic eye. if he is artistic he will choose a dwelling for its picturesqueness, regardless of drains and dank ditches near the house. an inert man will value his home for its proximity to the station. another considers the garden the most important feature. the stay-at-home will be influenced by the place which affords the most scope for the pursuit of his hobbies. men cannot gauge the amount of work that may be made or saved by the build of a house and the arrangement of its rooms. the all-important question of cupboards and store-rooms, the aspect of the larder and condition of the kitchen range are things that do not appeal to the masculine mind, especially when that mind is in love. if the bride is young and inexperienced she will do well to visit the projected abode with some practised housewife. the expeditions taken by the engaged couple in search of their new home ought surely to be among their sweetest experiences, even taking into account the misleading tactics of the house agent. furnishing. in olden days, when the daughters of eve span, the bride provided all the household linen, most of which had taken shape under her own fair fingers. now the intending bridegroom furnishes the house throughout. if the bride's father were wealthy and generous enough to make them a present of the lining for the nest, i do not suppose the bridegroom or the bride would have any objection. one argument for not furnishing till after the wedding is that many of the presents in money and kind might be valuable adjuncts; { } but then those presents would come from near relations who could tell the young people what to expect. a chest of plate or a box of linen, a piano or some such handsome item often comes from some one in the bride's family, but failing such gifts, the bridegroom must supply the new home with all needful articles. the bride's share in the matter. as she is to be the mistress of the establishment, the bride should have a voice in all that concerns it. many departments of house furnishing do not require the assistance of the male mind at all. they will both like to choose the actual household gods, to discuss schemes of colour and decoration together; but no woman need take a man to buy saucepans, or request his opinion on such soft matters as pillows and blankets. it will please his mother if the bride consults her about domestic details, and in any case she will profit by the advice of one who has been there. things to be considered. however small it is, the newly married pair should have their home to themselves, and it is as well not to settle immediately under the parental eye on either side. like kipling's ship, they have to "find themselves," and they will do it far better alone together. at the same time it is not good for a bride to be set down in an utterly strange neighbourhood, where she will not know a soul till the people are thoroughly satisfied as to her respectability. this, as we shall see later, may constitute a grave danger. the husband should think of his wife's daily round as well as of his own train service to town or the house's proximity to the golf links. they should go to some place within easy reach of friends, or where they have good introductions to possible people. when preparing to start life together they should not be too ambitious. because she has been brought up in a big house, he is doing her no kindness by saddling himself with a higher rent than he can really afford to pay. she is quite willing to take him in exchange for the extra accommodation that she is giving up. that is, if she is the right sort of woman. { } chapter xiv _the nature of the ceremony--religious or civil--banns or licence--legal formalities--settlements._ the nature of the ceremony. in most foreign countries a civil contract has to precede any religious ceremony that may be desired. in england the marriage is either religious or civil, though in order to make the union valid certain legal formalities must be observed with every religious form of marriage. the religious ceremony will not lightly be set aside by those who regard marriage in its highest aspect; but the nature of the service will differ according to the views of the contracting parties. a valid marriage can only take place in a church or chapel duly licensed by the bishop for the solemnisation of such a ceremony. banns. this word, which we now connect exclusively with the one idea, applied in former days to any public proclamation. where marriage by banns is desired due notice must be given, so that they can be published on three sundays, before the ceremony, in the parish or parishes where the intending bride and bridegroom live at the time. if the wedding is to take place elsewhere the clergyman who has published the banns signs a certificate to that effect, which must be given to the one in whose church the service is performed. if wrong names are wilfully given in, with intent to deceive, the { } publication of banns is invalid, and the marriage will be null and void. if only one party be guilty of fraud in this respect the proceedings are legal. unless the couple are married within three months of the publication of their banns they must be republished or a licence procured. one object of these restrictions is to check runaway matches, and to ascertain whether the parties are of legal age, or are marrying with proper consent from parents or guardians. a marriage may be performed in a church without banns on production of a registrar's certificate. i know of a runaway couple who were married in church as soon as their parents found out that they had been before the registrar. licences. these are of two kinds, the common and the special. a common licence is given by the archbishop or bishop, and can be obtained in london at the faculty office, knightrider's street, doctors' commons, e.c., or at the vicar-general's office, creed lane, ludgate hill, e.c., between the hours of a.m. and p.m., on all week days, except saturday, when they close at p.m. licences from these two places are available for use in any part of england or wales. they cost thirty shillings, with an extra twelve and sixpence for stamps. in order to prevent fraud, no licence can be given till one of the parties has made a declaration on oath that there is no legal impediment to the marriage, and that one of them has lived for fifteen days in the parish or district where the wedding is to take place. this last restriction is often evaded by the bridegroom's taking a bedroom in which he possibly sleeps one night, and where he is represented by a bag containing--stones, or a collar, if he likes. those licences obtained from the bishop's diocesan registry can only be used in the diocese where they are issued. they cost from £ , s. to £ , s. d., according to the diocese. the vicar or rector of any parish will give full particulars as to how they are to be obtained in country places. the special licence costs about £ , and is given by the archbishop through the faculty office under certain conditions. it dispenses with { } previous residence in the district, and can be used anywhere and at any time, providing satisfactory reasons have been given for its issue. witnesses. no marriage should be performed in any church or chapel unless at least two witnesses are present, who also attest the signing of the parish register. the ordinary fee for the certificate, or "marriage lines," is s. d., including the stamp, but this charge may vary a little. the civil contract. this may be done by certificate or licence. if a certificate is required, one of the parties must give formal notice to the superintendent registrar of the district in which both have lived for seven days immediately preceding the notice. if the couple live in separate places, similar notice must be given by each one. a solemn statement that there is no legal obstacle to the marriage must be made, together with notification of their places of residence, and, in the case of a minor, whether the consent of parent or guardian is forthcoming. the certificate may not be issued for twenty-one days after the notice has been entered, and this certificate is only available for three months. after the expiration of twenty-one days the wedding may take place at the registry office, in the presence of the superintendent registrar, a registrar of the district, and two witnesses, within the appointed hours, from a.m. to p.m. the mutual declaration is short and to the point. a ring is usually employed, but i have heard of strange substitutes being used at a pinch. if a licence is desired, similar formalities must be observed as when procuring one for use in a church, and one day must elapse between its issue and the wedding. no minister of religion need be present at a civil contract, even if it take place in a chapel or building certified for marriages. members of the society of friends may, after giving notice as above described, be married in their meeting house; but to make it legal, the fact must be duly registered { } by the officer of the district as soon after the ceremony as possible. the presence of a registrar is not necessary at marriages performed in nonconformist chapels if they are duly certified and an "authorised person" (that is, one duly appointed by the trustees or governing body of the building) is present during the proceedings. certain declarations, similar to those made before the registrar, must be included in any form of service. the "authorised person" must register the marriage at his earliest convenience. fees for civil contract. a marriage by certificate costs about ten or twelve shillings. with a licence, the expense mounts up to about £ , s. settlements. this is a matter of cold unromantic fact, and one which very ardent, impossible lovers regard almost in the light of a desecration. as the prosaic side of life has to be faced, it is very necessary that money matters should find a place in the matrimonial preparations. an honourable man is always anxious to effect some arrangement by which his wife may be safeguarded from ruin or extreme poverty. if she has money of her own, he will see that it is settled upon her absolutely. should he raise, or even hint at, an objection to this plan, he will lay himself open to a serious charge of possessing mercenary motives. a man with private means would settle a certain portion upon his wife; but, in the ordinary course of things, she would only have the interest of this amount, and would not have control over the capital during his life. at the same time, it could not be touched by his creditors. in more legal language: "by marriage settlements the property to be settled by one or both of the parties is conveyed to trustees upon trust as to the lady's property for her separate use during her life, and after her decease for the husband for his life. the husband's property is settled on him for life with remainder to the wife for life. on the death of the survivor the trust is for the children of the marriage in such { } shares as the husband and wife, or the survivor, appoint, and in default of appointment among the children equally." clauses as to maintenance and education of the children, and powers of investment of trust funds, are inserted. in settling large estates and sums of money various modes of settlement are adopted to suit the circumstances, but the above is the outline of an ordinary settlement. large landed estates are generally settled, after the decease of the settlers, upon the first and other sons in tail male with cross remainders between them, and in default of male issue among the daughters. the bride's dowry, or marriage portion, is of very ancient origin. even two centuries before christ the wealth possessed by a woman brought her an increase of respect from her husband, and lessened the humiliation of her legal and social position. by degrees the rich wife gained the upper hand, and what the law would not give to her sex as a right, she obtained by virtue of her money. { } chapter xv _the wedding-day--what is expected of ( ) the bride; ( ) the bridesmaids; ( ) the bridegroom; ( ) the best man; ( ) the bride's parents--at the bride's house--dressing--starting for the church--the tying of the knot--social aspect--reception or breakfast._ the wedding-day. "happy is the bride that the sun shines on!" runs the old adage, but we may hope that the lives of all english brides are not as grey as the skies under which they are often married. we can also hope that every bride will have the sunshine of joy in her heart on her wedding-day. most weddings now take place at o'clock or . , in consequence of the extension of the marriage hours, and this has in a great measure abolished the old "breakfast," which was a rather trying affair for all concerned. now, a more informal reception takes place on the return from church, with champagne, tea, ices, and all sorts of pretty light refreshments. those who, from choice or force of circumstances, decide upon the morning for the ceremony, would naturally give a luncheon, but the smarter section of society has spoken in favour of the reception. i know of a capricious couple who played their friends a very shabby trick. the invitations had been issued for a wednesday, and at the last moment they decided to be married on the tuesday morning. they went quietly to church in the early hours, left the town separately during the day, met in london, and started for the honeymoon. the next afternoon their friends assembled to find that the objects of their congratulations were away across the channel. this was a most serious breach of etiquette, as there was no reason for such rudeness. { } what is expected of the bride. however long and frequent the visits of the _fiancé_ may have been to his sweetheart's home, tradition decrees that he must not sleep under the same roof with her the night before the wedding, nor is he supposed to see her on the day, till he meets her in all her bridal beauty. she is supposed to keep in retirement even from the members of her own household during the early part of the day; but this is a matter of opinion, and all old ideas are giving way to more modern views. on her wedding-day, at least if it is to be a smart affair, the bride is handicapped as well as adorned by her clothes, as seems to be the general lot of women on all important occasions. let us hope that every care has been taken to minimise the minor anxieties as to the fit of her frock, the set of her veil, the comfort of shoes and gloves. she must feel something like a _débutante_ dressing for her presentation at court; but while the latter is only making her entry into society, the bride is entering upon a condition that will affect her eternally, and one that ought to have the blessing of god upon it. one would therefore like the bride to be free from such inconveniences as will drag her down mentally. let her be free to respond to the high inspirations and holy desires that best become a woman on this great day of her life. she will probably be nervous, and small wonder, but she will be none the less attractive for a little maidenly diffidence. the bride who marches triumphantly through her wedding does not show the best taste. in the rush and excitement of the wedding morning some one must make a point of seeing that the bride has proper food to sustain her through her part in the day's proceedings. her appearance will not be improved by the look of strained weariness that combined fatigue and exhaustion will bring even into the youngest face. she is expected to look her best and to have her emotions under control nowadays. the weeping bride is out of date. she is expected to look happy, for is she not completing the choice which she freely made? if her shoes pinch, or she is faint from hunger, those expectations cannot be fulfilled. the bridesmaids. these attendant maidens must be at the church awaiting the bride, ready to follow her up the aisle, and the chief one { } takes her place so as to be prepared to receive the gloves and bouquet from the bride before the putting on of the ring. one or more of them will help the bride, later in the day, to change into her travelling costume, and they can be of assistance in countless ways, both to the hostess and her guests. sometimes, however, a bridesmaid is too occupied preparing for another wedding, in which she will play the chief part, to have much time for any one else. the bridegroom. though of the highest and most vital importance, the bridegroom never seems quite so much to the fore as the bride. it is probably a mere matter of clothes. he is expected to have the ring in readiness, to provide a conveyance to take himself and the best man to the scene of the ceremony, and, above all, to be in good time, waiting in proud anticipation for the bride's arrival. he does not always look happy or quite at his ease with the eyes of the curious congregation upon him, but that is only his modesty. he has to give the bridesmaids a present (generally some trinket is chosen), and the bride receives her bouquet from him. sometimes the best man gives the bridesmaids their bouquets, but it is generally the bridegroom, unless they are all related together. the best man. i have heard it said that the office of the best man is to see that the bridegroom does not run away at the last moment. we will hope he does not often have hard work in that case. he certainly has to see that love does not make the bridegroom oblivious to the practical details of life. he escorts him to church and supports him through the service. he pays the fees of clerk and clergyman and calls the carriages when the register is signed. he is a very busy and useful person, if he does his duty, and much of the success from a social point of view may lie in his hands. the bride's parents. the heaviest burden of responsibility falls upon the shoulders of the bride's mother. she has to arrange with a caterer for the refreshments, unless she prefers to have all the trouble of { } preparing them at home; she must order the carriages, arrange the meals for guests staying in the house, and settle the order in which the wedding party is to go to church. she has to see about floral decorations wherever they are wanted, and now flowers play such an all-important part in every festivity. she will be the one to whom every one will go for instructions, and it may be her own heart will be very sore at the thought of parting with her daughter. where there are other grown-up girls they would naturally take some portion of the work off her hands, but she is nominal head of affairs in most households. the _father_ has to escort his daughter to church and bestow her upon her husband. in the event of his being prevented from doing this, her mother would drive with her, and the relation or friend who was acting as her father's deputy would meet her at the church door. the bride's father pays all the expenses of music or decoration in the church in addition to those of entertainment at home and conveyances. he will find the bill a large one in these days of lavish display and increased luxury. the idea that a reception is much cheaper than a luncheon is balanced by the facts that a far larger number of people can be included in the former and that champagne cannot be dispensed with. at the bride's house. before the appointed hour, bustle and possible confusion will reign in the bride's home. the young people will take a pride in decking the reception-rooms with flowers. the presents will be in a room by themselves, and will probably have been arranged the day before, but there are always a hundred little finishing touches to be put to everything. the caterer will, if required, supply all needful glass, china, tables, and attendance for the reception or breakfast. everyone should be dressed in good time. there will be belated presents, telegrams of congratulation, and all sorts of minor distractions. dressing the bride. in many cases the dressmaker who has _created_ the wedding gown comes to see it put on, but where such skilled help is not required the loving hands of mother, sister, or friend would deck the bride. one thing i would suggest. it is a risk { } to dress the hair to suit the veil rather than the face. i remember seeing a bride quite spoiled by having her pretty hair dragged up under her veil, when as a rule she wore it in soft, natural waves round her face and ears. the less jewellery a bride wears the better, and some recent leaders of fashion have exchanged the bridal bouquet for a prayer-book, which they carried in ungloved hands. a bride who is married in the veil of a happy wife is supposed to be lucky. it is a pretty idea for a girl to wear her mother's bridal veil. the tying of the knot. when she is ready and all the others have started for the church, the bride drives with her father or mother, as the case may be, away from her old home and her maiden name. these few moments are too sacred for an outsider to speak of. upon her arrival the bells ring out, the choir and clergy form the head of the procession, and she goes up to the chancel step on her father's right arm to take her place on the left side of her expectant bridegroom. it seems almost an impertinence to tell her how she should look at this solemn time, but it is not necessary or seemly for her to smile and nod to her friends in the church. she should remove both gloves on taking her place, so that she may be prepared to take the bridegroom by the hand and to receive the ring. arrangement of seats. the brothers or cousins of the bride show the guests to their seats in church. the bridegroom's family and friends sit on the right as they enter, the bride's party on the left. parents and nearest relations occupy the front seats, then others in order of kinship. as soon as the service is over, the newly-wedded pair, and such of their relations and friends as have been asked to do so, withdraw to the vestry, where the register is duly signed and witnessed. the social side. the bride and bridegroom drive off first from the church, so as to be in readiness to receive the congratulations of the { } guests, who greet them immediately upon returning to the house. they are the principal people for the time being. the parents follow in the next carriage, her father taking his mother. where there are many guests, no one should expect to take up much of the bride's attention, as she will have to divide her favours among the company. if there is a sit-down meal, she would be between her husband and father. the newly-married pair would either take the head of the table or sit in the centre of one side of the festive board. the practice of making long speeches has fallen into disuse, and every bride must be thankful for the relief. at an informal reception, where there is a chance to move about, the strain is not so great; but whichever form of entertainment is chosen, the bride _must cut the cake_, and every one is invited to partake of it. some items of expense. the supply of carriages should be sufficient to enable all the guests to be conveyed to and from the church with as little delay as possible, and each carriage and pair will cost from s. d. to s., while a guinea is charged for the bride's special equipage. grey horses are extra, but few people have them now, as it gives the situation away. each driver will expect a tip of a few shillings. a simple lb. wedding-cake can be had for s. or s., but the larger and more elaborate ones run up to £ and £ , the ornamental stands being extra. of course there is practically no limit to expenses if people wish to throw money about. one american wedding cost over a million dollars. at another the wedding-cake was stuffed with expensive gewgaws, and as it weighed a quarter of a ton it was conveyed on silver tram lines up and down the table or buffet. the bouquets for the bridesmaids cost anything from s. to £ , while that for the bride may run from £ to £ , or as much more as the bridegroom likes to give. many people who do not want their homes turned upside down or whose houses are not convenient for a wedding, entertain their friends at an hotel or a restaurant. this has its advantages, but is not so homelike for the bride's farewell to her old associations and home life. { } chapter xvi _the guests--the presents on view--starting for the honeymoon--dress and luggage--where to go and how long to stay--inevitable test of temperament--possible disappointments--disillusion, passing or permanent._ the guests. the average crowd, mainly composed of women, who throng to see a wedding are unfortunately notorious for their utter lack of reverence and total want of manners. the invited guests do not always behave in accordance with the rules of etiquette. one hears a running fire of comments, such as: "they say she's marrying him for his money!" or "well, her mother ought to be glad; she's worked hard enough to catch him." "he's stepping into a nice thing. i suppose the old boy paid his debts!" frequent allusions to former flirtations, or worse, are made in a stage whisper, and open expression is given to the question: "how long will it last?" by the cynics who seem to have come to be disagreeable. a wedding is bound to call forth both retrospective and anticipatory thoughts, but all unkind words should be silenced by a common desire to let that one day pass happily for all. guests who snatch at wedding-favours to take home, who are boisterous in their leave-taking of the departing couple, who stay to the bitter end and pocket morsels of bridecake, who loudly appraise the value of the presents, or audibly speculate as to "what it has cost so-and-so to get his daughter off," have as yet to learn the rudiments of etiquette. { } the presents on view. the hostess should see that all the guests have opportunities of seeing the wedding presents; but it is not judicious for visitors at a big function to poke about among the gifts unless accompanied by one of the family or, perhaps, a bridesmaid, because it is generally deemed wise to have a detective present on such an occasion, and he might misinterpret this friendly interest to the discomfort of the prying guests. in arranging the presents a nice thoughtfulness and tact are necessary. let the smaller offerings have due prominence, for the sake of the kindly thought that prompted them. one who had not been able to afford a gift in any proportion to her affection would feel touched by its occupying a place of honour. starting for the honeymoon. as the time for departure draws near the bride will slip away to doff her bridal splendour for her travelling costume. her sister, the favourite bridesmaid, or her mother will doubtless go and help her, and probably some of the real "good-byes" will be spoken before she rejoins the company. the dress will have been chosen with reference to the journey she is now undertaking. if she has but a short distance to go it may be a picturesque, dainty creation, but if she has hard travelling before her it will be of the tailor-made type, at once stylish and business-like, devoid of unnecessary fallals. all present will be anxious to take leave of the newly-wedded pair, and to wish them god-speed. there is often deep sorrow under the surface of merriment at such partings. it is the moment when young brothers and frivolous cousins perform impish pranks, while the parents, and maybe the bride, are feeling the keen pang of separation. paper confetti are a harmless substitute for rice, which is not soothing to receive in the eye or ear. the throwing of old shoes is said to be a relic of the sticks and stones hurled in wrath by the defeated friends of the bride when the victorious bridegroom carried her off as his prize and captive. { } the journey. many are the devices resorted to by the newly married to escape detection on the wedding journey. some take old battered portmanteaux. i have heard of a baby being borrowed to block up the window of the railway carriage; but matrimony, like murder, will out. the bridegroom will naturally do all in his power to make the journey an ideally pleasant one, and he will do well to remember that his bride has had much more to strain her nerves and weary her than he has. luggage. at any time it seems well to avoid a number of small parcels, but on this occasion it is doubly advisable. even if the husband and wife can fix their minds on such prosaic things, it is hardly fair for her to hang him round with her bags, hat-boxes, and other feminine impedimenta. on the other hand, if he has brought his cycle, his golf clubs, his fishing-tackle, and his camera, his attention is bound to be divided between the safety of his possessions and the comfort of his bride. where to go. the destination of the honeymooners will depend upon the time they have to spare, the money they can spend, and their combined tastes. there are a few practical hints that may be given. it is often said that travelling is one of the best tests of temper, so let the woman who soon feels fretted and looks jaded or is physically indisposed by a long railway journey take her honeymoon near home. let no one who is not reliably happy on board ship attempt to cross the water and run the risk of ending her wedding-day in the terribly unbecoming condition caused by _mal de mer_. how long to stay. the modern tendency to shorten honeymoons seems born of wisdom as much as of expediency. it may sound brutal, but undisturbed possession soon palls, and man was made { } for something more virile than perpetual billing and cooing. the long honeymoon makes a very heavy demand upon the emotions. it is fatal to try and keep up a lost illusion. the moment a man or woman sees that the sweetness is beginning to cloy, and the inaction to bore, it is time to return to everyday life. inevitable test of temperament. the honeymoon is bound to disclose many hitherto unsuspected phases of character. these revelations will be in proportion to the amount of previous mutual understanding. the lover who has been free-handed may turn into the husband who haggles over his hotel bills. the girl who has always looked like a dainty picture (because there was some one to take care of her things) may be careless and unkempt when there is no one but her husband to see her. the man who had preferred a sandwich in the woods with his beloved, may be the one to swear at the waiter if the made dishes are not exactly to his taste. the sweetheart who has been all smiles, may prove but a sorry companion when exposed to discomfort, and show herself quite unable to rise cheerfully to an emergency. on the other hand, surprises of a pleasant nature may be in store for bride and bridegroom. unthought of qualities may be called into play, deeper feelings may be aroused, and the full sweetness of a character only be fully revealed in the sacred privacy of the honeymoon. possible disappointments. a modern writer says: "how many ideals are shattered by the intimacy of marriage, simply because the antenuptial love has been based upon fiction and misunderstanding. if only a man and a woman made their several motives for marrying quite clear to one another, and were not quite so anxious to preserve a veneer of romance up to the very altar, matrimony would not be the terrible iconoclast it too often is." this is plain speaking, and one wonders how many marriages would ever take place if this precept were carried out. it is true that much has to be revealed after marriage. the { } lover has only seen his sweetheart when she has placed herself on view, so to speak. they were both kept in check by the uncertainty of their position. the husband sees his wife under all circumstances, in mentally trying moments, in physically unbecoming situations. in fact, she has to appear before him with her hair out of curl, actually and metaphorically, to use a homely illustration. disillusion, passing or permanent. the mental relations between husband and wife must necessarily differ from those between lovers, and the more honest and sincere they have been during their courtship, the less painful will be the awakening after marriage. where there is both love and trust, coupled with common sense, a little humour, and a broad view of life, the disillusion should only be a passing cloud that makes the sunshine all the brighter for its temporary shade. where there has been conscious, or even involuntary, deception, an unreal position or exaggerated idealisation on either side, the pain of disillusion will be poignant, and its effect permanent. things can be sorrowfully and bravely patched up for mere outward use, but there will be a smart under the smile, and a blank in the life that should have been so full. whatever mental crisis may follow marriage, the two who suffer, for one seldom suffers alone, will do well to keep their own counsel. if the silence is too great a strain, it is wiser, though perhaps not so natural, to seek help from some trusted friend unconnected by kinship with either family. relations cannot take an unprejudiced view of the case; they are bound to be biassed in favour of their own, and even if family jars are not openly discussed the leaven works, and its effect is soon perceptible. { } chapter xvii _the return home--a plunge into the practical--housekeeping--wedding calls--the newly-married couple at home and in society._ the return home. it is the unanimous and unqualified opinion of those who know, that the first year of married life practically answers the question "is marriage a failure?" the bride who can emerge triumphantly from this searching ordeal will hold her own for the rest of her career as a wife. the newly-married girl or woman has everything to try her mettle. the end of the honeymoon sees the beginning of her real work. she has won her husband; she has charmed and satisfied him in the hours of love in idleness; she has now to keep him true to his allegiance through the dull prosaic days of ordinary, humdrum life. for the husband the change is not nearly so great. he has his usual daily avocations to follow; his business or professional duties have undergone no alteration. we will hope the wedded pair have a nice cosy home awaiting their return. if the honeymoon has been short, the bulk of the preparations will have been made before the wedding, and a mother or sister will have put the finishing touches during the bride's absence, but no one should be awaiting them in their new home except the servants they have engaged. it may be that there is a visit to be paid to relations before settling into the new home, and this will be a little trying. those who love them and who watch them start on their wedding journey will eagerly scan their features for some sign to indicate how things have gone with them in this important interval. a happy heart need shun { } no such scrutiny, but where the slightest wound is hidden under smiles the loving solicitude will give pain. a plunge into the practical. whatever the nature of the new home may be, whether mansion or cottage, town flat or suburban villa, even if it be but the temporary resting-place of furnished rooms, the wife will do well to begin by studying her husband's comfort, and finding out any special likes and dislikes that may not as yet have come under her notice. he, for his part, must not expect too much, and should try not to make her painfully conscious of her shortcomings. he might also reflect with advantage, when things are not to his taste, that he has himself to thank for a good deal. he chose his wife for her youth, her beauty, her charm, or her money it may be, and he then asked for no other qualification. he took up all her thoughts and her spare time during their engagement, and all he asked was that she should look nice and let him make love to her. she was purely ornamental in those days, and he was content to have her so. once marriage is over he expects her to develop exactly those domestic gifts that shall best minister to his comfort and well-being. this cannot be done in a day. housekeeping. apart from the strangeness of her position, her probable isolation from all familiar faces, her mingled sense of freedom and responsibility, the young wife has much to contend with. housekeeping comes more easily to some women than to others, and the one who has a domestic gift scores a big point in starting married life. the girl who has had no previous training or practical experience will spend many a bitter moment face to face with her own utter incompetence. the servant question alone is enough for most people. the young maid knows her new mistress is but a novice; the experienced cook regards her either from a motherly point of view or in the light of lawful prey. she has, however, to maintain her dignity in the face of all this. she knows her ignorance will be detected and possibly laughed at, behind her back, but she { } must not compromise the position in which her husband has placed her by undue familiarity, or undignified relations with those over whom she is to preside. by this it is not meant that a mistress should be afraid of being civil and even friendly with her maids; but she must discern nicely between that which breeds contempt and that which adds affection to respect. money matters. many girls have had no money to manage beyond the spending of a dress allowance, with an indulgent parent always ready to make up the deficit. it would be well for every mother to give the housekeeping accounts into the hands of her engaged daughter for at least a month before she marries. she will not master the subject, but she will acquire some idea of the just prices of household commodities, and the quantities that should be ordered. the bride who suggested the leg of beef "for a change" is happily fictional, but it is to be feared that many do not much exceed her in knowledge. some men give their wives a regular weekly allowance for domestic expenses, and this seems a fair way to do things. others believe in paying everything by cheque, and thus keep all the money in their own hands. provided the husband is pleasant when the cheques are drawn out the wife is saved a great deal of trouble; but the man who swears over the monthly bill, and wants an account of every pound of meat consumed in that time, creates a perpetual burden for his luckless partner. the early mismanagement of household expenses is fraught with sorrow to the well-meaning wife and heart-searchings to the husband, who begins to ask anxiously: "could i really afford to marry?" whatever the precise nature of the arrangement may be, there should be a clear understanding as to how the expenses are to be divided. supposing the wife has her own income, or an allowance from her husband, she ought to know exactly what that sum is expected to cover. she is also entitled to a definite knowledge as to the extent of his income. many a tragedy might have been averted if the wife had been taken earlier into the husband's confidence. { } wedding calls. there is much diversity of opinion as to how the bride is to make her home-coming known to her friends. the fashion of sending wedding-cards is pronounced out of date, and they are only now tolerated when enclosed with wedding-cake to old friends. it is no longer necessary for the bride to sit at home in expectant and solitary grandeur, waiting for the callers to make their appearance. she is free to go out and about as she pleases, unless, of course, she has fixed any date upon which to receive friends. she must be careful to return all the calls made upon her in due time, and should note the at home days and addresses of her new acquaintances. the simplest way is to let the date of return filter out through friends, and if any one is really anxious to call she will find out when to do so. in the suburbs and in country towns the bride may quite well give an at home to the friends who gave her presents, and to those who were at her wedding, without waiting for them to call upon her. the invitations would be sent out in the wife's name only, but her husband would put in an appearance if possible. the bride would receive her friends in one of her dainty new frocks, and though there would be no formal display of presents, those who had given her pretty things would be pleased to see them put to their appointed uses. it is not a bride's place to start an acquaintance with older married people, nor is she expected to entertain upon a large scale during the early part of her married life. in certain cases, notably those of professional men, the social success of the young wife may materially affect the financial position of her husband. i knew of a doctor's bride who gave great offence to his patients by omitting to return her wedding calls until after her first child was born. the newly-married couple at home. loneliness is one of the bride's trials. she is alone the greater part of the day. her things are all new, and do not require much attention in the way of mending or altering. her household is but small, and once she has had her morning interview with the cook there is not much for her to do. the novelty of her position makes her restless, and averse to { } going on with the pursuits that have been interrupted by her marriage. the old familiar home life is exchanged for solitary sway, and she does not always know how to fill up the long hours. she gets nervous, over-wrought, and is sometimes driven out of her new home in search of excitement. the woman who marries on a small income and has plenty of work to do is not so liable to this unfortunate development. the husband should be prepared for the effect of this uprooting on his young wife. he must not grudge her the little diversions that will help to pass the time while he is away. a woman with tact will choose the right moment for unburdening her mind of domestic woes. it is generally considered a wise plan to give a man a good dinner before you tell him anything unpleasant. the less she tells him of her petty worries the better a wife will get on, and the more her husband will admire her. real troubles and grave anxieties should always be shared, and both authority and responsibility should be divided in a household if things are to run smoothly. it will be well for the young wife if she can feel the matrimonial ground firmly beneath her feet before she is called upon to bear the additional anxieties and physical trials of approaching motherhood. in society. the bride is the honoured guest at any party given on her account. she would naturally appear in white, and if it were a grand affair she might don a modified edition of the wedding gown. i know a youthful bride who, having been married in a travelling dress, ordered a white satin frock at her husband's expense in which to make her social _début_. the average newly-married couple are not the most entertaining companions. their own little world is too absorbing for them to take much interest in the trifles outside it, but it is beautiful to see their happiness. sometimes they are tiresome. the bride is the chief offender. she quotes her adolphus as the world-oracle, and dilates on her own recent domestic discoveries as if they were what civilised humanity had been waiting for through dark ages of perplexity. her superior attitude towards unmarried friends not unfrequently leads to friction. we must have patience with her, for she is learning a great deal, and has not yet had time to sort it out into proper proportions. { } chapter xviii _mixed marriages--differences of colour--nationality and religion--scotch marriages--marriage of minors and wards in chancery._ mixed marriages. love overleaps all barriers, and it is of but little use to try and bind it. marriage, however, is another thing, and can be prevented even where love exists. how far it is right or advisable to do so must be a matter of individual judgment decided by the facts of each separate case. to take an instance. there is a very strong feeling, especially among medical men, against the marriage of cousins. now love deep and true may exist between two cousins; but, seeing the physical deterioration that comes from the intermarrying of members of one family, it may be a plain duty to unborn generations for these two to abstain from marriage with each other. where there is any hereditary disease of mind or body it is little short of criminal to contract such a union. in the matter of _mixed marriages_--namely, those between men and women differing from each other in colour, nationality, or religion, it is generally thought that they are fraught with grave risks. the question of colour. this does not affect us here in england as much as it does in india and those parts of the empire where there is a coloured native population. to those who have lived among { } it the question is one of burning importance. we cannot go into it here, but, seeing that these marriages do take place even in england, a word of warning may not be amiss. women who are fascinated by coloured men would do well to note that there is not a white man, good, bad, or indifferent, who does not abhor the idea of a white woman's marrying a coloured man. this is not the outcome of jealousy, nor yet of ignorance, for the more the european has travelled the more rooted is his aversion to such unions. he knows, as man with man, what the real mental attitude of those dusky gentlemen is towards women. he knows what lies behind the courtly manner, the nameless grace, and sensuous charm of these impassioned lovers. no woman can know this till after marriage, and then the knowledge does not do her much good. let any woman who contemplates a marriage with a coloured man, no matter how high his caste may be, take counsel with some man who has lived among the dark races and who cannot possibly be suspected of jealousy, and she will learn that which may save her from an infinity of suffering. different nationalities. among europeans intermarriage is fairly frequent, and may turn out well. no doubt it is a success in many cases, but where it is, i think it will be found that either the man has become cosmopolitan in his ideas or the woman has lived long enough abroad to fit in with continental modes of life. the english girl who has been educated in a french convent will not have the same difficulty in pleasing a french husband or adapting herself to his ways as the home-reared girl who meets "monsieur blanc" on her first visit to the continent. without a fairly wide knowledge of the home life to which marriage with a foreigner will lead, an english, scotch, or irish girl is running a great risk by taking such a final step as matrimony, for in no other country in europe have women quite the same position as in the british isles. the more restricted the mental horizon of the one may be, the less likelihood is there of perfect sympathy between husband and wife. { } the necessary formalities. where such a marriage has been decided upon, there are many preliminary regulations to be observed. as my legal friend remarks: "a strict observance of the marriage laws of foreign countries, where one of the parties to a marriage is english and it takes place in england, is most necessary, or a person may find herself or himself married in england but legally repudiated abroad. in france the consent of parents is required up to the age of twenty-five, and if refused, what are called three respectful summonses are to be made. if consent be still withheld, the party can marry legally." there was a case recently in the english papers of a marriage between two french people being annulled because the ceremony had been performed in england without the proper formalities having been observed in france. "in germany the fact of the betrothal and intention to marry must be advertised in newspapers circulating in the district or districts in which the parties reside, and if one of them resides in england then in an english newspaper. in germany notice has also to be given to the town-clerk or some like official." any marriage that is legal in the country where it is contracted is valid in switzerland. an englishwoman marrying an italian may be married in england according to the rites of her own church, but a copy of the marriage certificate must be sent to the nearest italian consul, who forwards it to the authorities of the man's native town or place of residence. there should be no delay in doing this, as no marriage is legal in italy if not registered within three months of its celebration. there have been so many sad results from irregular mixed marriages that at the february meeting of the lower house of convocation at york a resolution was moved: "in view of the grave scandals arising in respect to marriages between english and foreign subjects asking the upper house to consider the desirability of issuing an order to the beneficed clergy and the diocesan registrars requiring that when a foreigner gives notice of his intention to be married to an english subject the marriage should not be solemnised till a consular certificate was produced that the laws of the foreign country had been complied with." { } british subjects living abroad. no british subject, especially a woman, should agree to any form of marriage without having first applied to the british consul of the district, or to the embassy if there is one, for full particulars and instructions for the contracting of a legal marriage in a foreign country under the _foreign marriage act of_ . an englishwoman takes the nationality of the man she marries. a marriage that would be illegal in england is unaffected by any ceremony performed in the presence of authorised persons abroad should the parties return to this country. for instance, a man who wishes to marry his deceased wife's sister can go to a country where such a marriage is legal and be married; but if the couple return to england they are not man and wife in the eyes of the law. different religious persuasions. where there is a difference of religious faith and practice between the man and woman, there will not only be the marriage ceremony to arrange but there should be a clear, written agreement as to which faith any children that may be born are to be reared in. the roman church does not recognise marriage except when solemnised by her own priests, but if one of the parties is not a romanist the ceremony may be afterwards gone through in an english church or nonconformist chapel. a jew in england can be married by a registrar, but probably the majority of jews in england are married in a synagogue, in which case a registrar is in attendance. any one who marries a romanist should bear in mind that the dearest aim of every faithful member of their church is to bring others into the fold. many nonconformists are willing and even anxious to be married in the parish church of their district. it may be generally said, save in the above-named case, that the woman gets her own way about the religious ceremony. where strong prejudice exists on either side the matter may be settled by a civil contract; but apart from the real question of religion, marriage before a registrar has not the { } social prestige which still clings to the time-honoured custom of exchanging marital vows in the house of god. scotch marriages. the old law as to scotch irregular marriages has been modified of late years, and gretna marriages are no longer recognised. twenty-one days' residence since is required, but otherwise acknowledgment before witnesses is a legal marriage. in the year an act entitled _an act to encourage regular marriage in scotland_ was passed, and under it ministers may celebrate marriages on a certificate from a registrar, which is equivalent to the publication of banns. this certificate is issued by registrars on receiving notice of the intended marriage. the registrar posts the notice in the prescribed mode, and, if no objection is received, grants his certificate. the notice must be given to the registrar of the district or districts in which the parties have resided for fifteen days at least. marriage of minors and wards in chancery. if a minor who is a ward in chancery marries without the consent of the lord chancellor (who takes care that proper settlements are made of the ward's property), he or she commits a contempt of court, and is liable to punishment accordingly. a minor who will inherit property can be made a ward by settling £ upon him or her and making a proper application to the court. there is no law against two minors marrying, but the consent of parents is required. { } chapter xix _foreign etiquette of marriage--quaint customs and strange superstitions._ continental weddings. many of the national, picturesque customs have disappeared from the weddings of the townspeople and the more educated classes on the continent; but many distinctive points of etiquette still remain, and we shall find that in matters of detail there is much that differs from our english ways. in _germany_ it is impossible for young people to marry without the consent of their parents or legal guardians, and unless certain prescribed forms are gone through, the marriage will be null and void. so many certificates of birth, parentage, etc., have to be produced that, it is said, the working classes can neither afford the time nor the money necessary for a legal marriage; so many of them do without it. the husband is the lord and master; his wife's property passes into his keeping and is at his absolute disposal. he may compel her to work, and even if the pair be divorced he still retains her money. as german girls are brought up to expect this, it does not strike them as any hardship, and most of them are quite happy to be under the sway of their liege lords. the chief festivity of a german wedding is the _polterabend_, a somewhat hilarious party given the night before. the young friends of the bride enact charades, or give living pictures illustrative of the chief events in her childhood and youth. there is much merriment, and, i believe, the breaking of crockery has a part in the proceedings. the bridesmaids are accompanied by an equal number of young men, called _brautführer_. the bridal wreath is always of myrtle, not orange blossom, and the bride and bridegroom exchange rings. customs vary according to social station and locality. { } at a south german peasant's wedding there is wild rejoicing and much ceremony. the guests are invited by a messenger, who draws devices on the doorsteps of those he has to summon to the feast. there is music and dancing, processions are formed to and from the church, the bride is hailed with flowers, and all sorts of emblematical offerings are taken to church. the bridegroom stuffs his pockets with samples of what he hopes will constitute his worldly wealth. if he never looks back between the house and the altar, the bride knows that he will never want a second wife. for those who have the leisure and opportunity to study these peasant marriages a curious compound of sentiment, superstition, and practical common sense will present itself. in norway the bride who has preserved her maiden state untarnished--it is not necessarily expected of her--is crowned with a high, glittering crown inlaid with gems, which is the property of the church, and can be hired for five dollars. special music is also performed in her honour by the rustic musicians. wedding festivities are marked by unbounded hospitality. there is food and drink for all. when the procession is formed the bride walks last, clad in a gorgeous costume which also may be hired. there are both bridesmaids and bride-leaders, the latter being married women who lend their moral support to the bride. the couple kneel in the church under a sort of canopy made out of shawls and scarves held up by the bridesmaids. after the ceremony an amount of eating, drinking, and dancing go on that we can hardly imagine. the bridegroom has a last sort of romp with his bachelor friends, and has to be wrested from them by the married men. the bride dances off her crown, is then blindfolded and surrounded by a ring of her bridesmaids, and places her crown upon the head of one of them who is claimed as the next bride. before the cake is cut each friend lays a coin upon it, and toasts are drunk with enthusiasm. in some provinces the bride has to run away and hide the day after the wedding. a grand search is then made, and she is carried home with much ado. this practice still prevails among some of the native african tribes and the aborigines of australia. { } in brittany the bridegroom pretends to "capture" his bride. he makes a mock assault upon her house, which is carefully closed with locks and bolts against him. the besieging party take bagpipes to while away the time. much parleying goes on, and every female member of the bride's family is offered to the bridegroom by one of her male relations, who is the chosen tormentor. when she finally does appear the pair exchange sprigs of myrtle or orange blossom, and there is a dance. before the party starts for the church they all kneel in prayer, and the bride takes a touching farewell of her parents. feasting and revelry finish up the day. in italy the bride becomes entirely one of her husband's family, and his mother is all-powerful. before the marriage the couple, accompanied by three witnesses, must go before the appointed authorities, and a document is drawn up stating that they wish to marry. the witnesses sign this paper to show that there is no impediment to the marriage. the document is then posted up outside a stated public building for the inspection of the passers-by. if no one makes any objection before the end of a fortnight, the couple may then make a legal civil contract, and nothing more is required. this arrangement was made to check the power of the priests, who manipulated marriages much to their own fancy under the papal government. a youth must be eighteen and a girl sixteen before they can marry. there are many superstitions about the lucky and unlucky days for marriages. sunday is the favoured day. there are hardly ever any bridesmaids at an italian wedding, as girls are not supposed to be present on such occasions, so the married women accompany the bride. in russia no man under thirty nor woman under twenty-five may marry without the consent of parents, but in the event of unreasonable opposition an appeal may be made to the law. both bride and bridegroom must give costly presents { } to the church. the man comes to claim his bride from her parents, and she kneels before them to ask pardon for all she may have done to vex or grieve them. they raise her with a kiss of forgiveness, and give her bread and salt in token that they will never let her want. when she leaves her old home the door is left open as a sign that she may always return to it. rich brides wear nothing but white and orange blossom; but pale blue and a coronet of silver ribbon are more in accordance with the national custom. the religious ceremony has all the ritual and grandeur of the greek church. the bride has to prostrate herself before her husband in token of entire submission. the best man attends the bride, not the bridegroom, and is chosen by her. seven o'clock in the evening is the time for russian weddings to begin. mostly newly-married couples live with the husband's family, who greet them on their return from church with bread and salt. a dance follows, during which the bride has to change her dress as many times as she has different costumes in her trousseau. the supper is served at daybreak, after which the guests depart. in russia the wife's name is always a little different from that of her husband, owing to the fact that the family name when borne by a male is a substantive and can be used alone, while in a lady's case it is only an adjective which requires completion to give it full meaning. in sweden a rainy day is considered lucky for a marriage, as it foretells wealth. there is barbaric feasting at the wedding, and departing guests are given a bottle of brandy and a huge ring of wheaten bread with which to treat those they meet on their way home. the bride is dressed by her particular friend, or by the pastor's wife, and wears a black, beribboned gown, ornamented with mock gems, tinsel, and artificial flowers. she has a myrtle wreath or a crown like her norwegian sister. her shoes have some symbolical reference to possible motherhood. in the left one her father places a silver coin, while her mother puts gold in the right shoe. these represent the necessaries and luxuries with which they hope she will be provided. on her return from church her mother places a sweetmeat in her mouth to make her gentle of speech. { } in spain the bride always retains her maiden name attached to that of her husband, and both must be used together. flowers form a great feature of spanish marriages, and in each district blossoms have special significance. in valentia the ceremony takes place at night, and there is a mock "marriage by capture." all the guests must leave by a.m. in catalonia only the nearest relations of the pair are allowed to attend the service, but many guests are asked to the house, and each must bring a gift. it is an insult to refuse an invitation of this kind. the guests are divided according to sex, and when the bridegroom is tired of the men he goes and throws sweets at the ladies, exclusive of his wife. then dancing follows. the bride's father gives his daughter her house, furniture, and trousseau, while the guests are supposed to supply her dowry. in andalusia no ring is used, but every married woman wears flowers in her hair over the right ear as a mark of her matronly dignity. in hungary. a society has been formed in south hungary to enable the bride to have her name joined with that of her husband, and it may be noted, in passing, that in germany and austria the wife takes the title as well as the name of the man she marries. she is mrs. dr. braun or mrs. sanitary inspector meyer, mrs colonel schmidt, and so on. the day before a marriage in hungary there is a grand display of the bride's presents and trousseau, and the more garments, household linen, and beds she has, the prouder she feels. two matrons and six maids clad in white, each of the latter carrying a crown, escort the bride to church. after the service she goes to her husband's home, where the feast lasts for days with occasional intervals. each guest may have a dance with and a kiss from the bride, for which payment is made in small coins. in switzerland, as in france, the civil marriage must precede the religious ceremony. a widow or a woman separated from her { } husband may not marry again till at least ten months have elapsed since the death or deed of separation. at a peasant's wedding there is often a mistress of the ceremonies, who distributes red and blue handkerchiefs among the guests, in return for which she receives money for the bride. the sum thus collected is not given to her till she has been married for forty-eight hours. they marry young, and life is too hard to leave them much leisure for love-making. the swiss are not an emotional people on the whole, and the head, generally dominates the heart with them. customs vary according to the locality and the canton in which the marriage takes place. in denmark the same plain gold ring does duty both for betrothal and marriage, the bridegroom changing it from the third finger of the left hand to the third finger of the right at the marriage ceremony. in france women of the upper and middle classes often wear no wedding-ring. they seem to regard it as a badge of servitude, and leave it to their humbler sisters. in a roman catholic french church the bride is attended by one bridesmaid and a groomsman, who after the service make a collection from the guests and hand it over to the priest. the two perform this act very gracefully. the gentleman turns one hand palm upwards and the lady lets her fingertips rest upon his with her palm downwards, while, as they pass down the aisle together, each holds an alms-bag to the company with the other hand. at one point in the service both bride and bridegroom are, given lighted candles to hold. rather risky for the wedding dress! thinks the careful woman. the bride wears a costume similar to that worn in england, but the bridesmaid is in more ordinary afternoon dress, and the same may be said of the guests, who do not assume a distinctively bridal appearance. sometimes the civil marriage takes place immediately before the religious one, or it may be performed on the preceding day. the protestant service is of course very simple. most married men in france wear a wedding-ring. { } chapter xx _runaway matches--remarriage of widows and widowers--the children--the home--dress--comparisons._ runaway matches. the old glamour and romance that idealised the runaway match in the days of post-chaises and wayside hostelries have been destroyed by the express train and the telegraph wire. in spite of the change that has come over our social life, the clandestine marriage does still take place; in fact it has been rather boomed in high circles of late; but it might rather be called a "walkaway" than a runaway match. it can all be done in such a quiet, business-like manner that no notice need be drawn to what is going on. the man who urges a young girl into a secret marriage lays himself open to some ugly charges, for parental tyranny is out of date, and that alone provided sufficient excuse for such a grave step. the man who is mean enough to bind a girl to himself by marriage before he has a home to give her, and then sends her back to her parents as if nothing had happened, is not calculated to make a good husband, unless his offence has the excuse of extreme youth. let him work his hardest and trust the girl to wait for him. if she will not do that, it is certainly not worth while to commit a dishonourable action for her sake. the couple who marry and keep the fact a secret because they are afraid of losing some one's money if they tell the truth, would have done better to wait, or to tell each other that love was not good enough without the wherewithal to gild it. in england no one can be forced into a marriage, and all are free to choose whom they like { } as soon as they are of age; so why stain the start of their wedded life by deception and falsehood? the seeds of distrust and contempt may thus be sown in hearts where there should be mutual love and trust, and then bitter fruits will spring up when once the novelty is over. given patience, honesty, and fidelity, there need be no secret marriages in this empire. a private marriage celebrated in the presence of only a few chosen friends is what many may prefer and desire; but considering the inevitable slur contained in the words: "_why_ did they do it?" the woman, at least, would do well to refrain from the sweets of stolen waters. second marriages. dr. johnson pronounced a second marriage to be "the triumph of hope over experience." others who are less epigrammatic affirm that to take a second partner is the highest compliment that can be paid to the departed first. in some cases the real romance of marriage only awakes with the second wooing. it by no means follows that it must be a dull, prosaic, practical transaction. the children. the great question in the remarriage of parents with children under age is the welfare of those children, and the choice of husband or wife, especially the latter, should be largely influenced by this consideration. the step-father is not held in such disfavour as the step-mother, probably because his relations with the young people are not so intimate. the widow. a genial student of womankind says: "a little widow is a dangerous thing! she knows not only her own sex but the other too, and knowledge is power. she is experienced, accessible, and free, and withal fatally fascinating. there is a great charm in loving a woman who is versed in the lore of love, and is practised in all the sleight-of-heart tricks of it." her courtship is more untrammelled than that of a { } single woman. her position is all in her favour. if she is very young, she will probably have a companion, or live with some relative. if she has small children they can afford a very convenient element of propriety when a lover comes to woo. she does not always have a second engagement ring; she may prefer some other trinket. it is also a matter of taste whether she retain her first wedding-ring in its place or not. if she decides to banish it she should do so before going to be married. dress. grey is no longer the compulsory shade for a widow's wedding frock. any light, delicate colour may be worn; but a woman has only one _white_ wedding and one bridal veil in her life. the widow is not supposed to make a display over her wedding. an air of somewhat chastened joy is considered more suitable. instead of bridesmaids she has one lady attendant who should be in her place in church before the bride arrives, and be ready to move to her side when required, to take the gloves and bouquet (which should not be composed of purely white flowers, nor is orange blossom permissible). there may be a second edition of the wedding cake and the presents, but favours and floral tributes are things of the past. the home. if the widow has a nice home of her own she and her husband may decide to live in it; but he will need to exercise tact in taking up his position as master of a household that has hitherto gone on quite well without him. an entire change of servants would probably be advisable if not inevitable. the wife would be careful to give him his full dignity, and not to let it appear that he was to be regarded in the light of a pensioner on her bounty. the widower. a man whose wife dies leaving him with young children, or even one baby, is in a most pathetic position, and the best thing he can do is to find some nice woman to console him and mother the little ones. it is a pity that the two { } qualifications cannot always go together. it is rather risky for a sister or a niece to regard the home offered her by a widowed brother or uncle as a permanency. men who are apparently satisfied with existing arrangements have a way of springing surprises upon their devoted womenfolk, and when the new wife appears, the sister or niece who has tided him over the worst part of his life must find a home elsewhere. of course the man is quite within his rights, but i would warn those who may be living in a fool's paradise. the widower with a house or estate would, naturally, consult the future mistress of it about any alterations he proposed making before his marriage. on her visits of inspection she would either be chaperoned by her mother or some married relation; but, if more convenient, he would ask a lady friend to come and meet her. if he had a grown-up daughter she would continue to preside over his household till after his marriage. it is not fair for a man to take a second wife without giving any previous intimation to his adult sons and daughters who may still be making their home with him. the installation of a girl step-mother over youths of her own age places them all in rather a difficult position, and has the possible making of a tragedy in it. the widower who marries a spinster may go through all the glories of a smart wedding for a second or third time if he likes, seeing that it is the condition of the bride that decides such matters. comparison with the predecessor. those who play the role of no. must make up their minds to be compared, in thought if not in word, involuntarily if not intentionally, with no. , and the process need not necessarily be painful. unless there has been some distressing or tragic element in the first marriage, why should the memory of the dead be banished, except by jealousy or inconstancy? it is not generous of no. to try and sweep away all traces of the predecessor. the man or woman who will lightly abandon all the memories of the partner of youth, is not so calculated to make an ideal companion for middle age as the one who cherishes a tender regard for the dead side by side with an honest love for the living. { } chapter xxi _marrying for love; for money; for a home; for a housekeeper--concluding remarks._ marrying for love. in spite of all that the cynics and pessimists may say, love should be the lord of marriage. "how sweet the mutual yoke of man and wife when holy fires maintain love's heavenly life!" true happiness cannot exist without it, however great the wealth or exalted the position of the married pair may be, while the worst evils of life are lightened and made bearable by its presence. marrying for love need not mean improvidence. only an unreasoning passion based on selfishness will plunge the beloved into privation and want. the highest, truest love has its substratum of common sense, self-restraint, and thought for others. it is very hard to draw the line, for vices and virtues tread somewhat closely on each other's heels. the division between prudence and cowardice is often ill-defined. the love that rushes into poverty that it is not strong enough to endure, has in it an element of the selfishness that makes another sit still in comfort while the path is being made smooth for her soft tread. there are those who laugh at love, and say that mutual respect and sufficient means are the only two reliable things with which to enter upon matrimony. both these excellent possessions may, however, be quite compatible with love, in fact the former is bound to be included in the softer passion or it will not wear very well. no one will deny that a marriage founded on mere mutual respect may one day be { } crowned by true and lasting love; nor yet that pre-matrimonial love may die a speedy or even violent death soon after the lovers are united; but these possibilities do not alter the fact that taking things all round, love is the best and most precious asset with which to begin married life. marrying for money. there are many marriages that are casually put under this heading which do not deserve to be. a man's position may be such that it will mean ruin to him if he adds to his expenses by taking a wife without a penny. he honourably refrains from making any advances to girls who are so situated; but that does not prevent his becoming really attached to one whose income will make married life possible for him. the possession of money does not make a woman unlovable for herself, though it may give her an unenviable experience at the hands of the fortune hunter. the cold, calculating nature that deliberately plans a mercenary marriage is probably satisfied for the time being by the acquisition of the coveted wealth. little pity will be given when the long-starved human element of the man or woman begins to cry out for something more than money can buy. there are excuses for some mercenary alliances. the sorely-tried daughter of impecunious parents, whose youth has been clouded by grey, grinding poverty, and who sees the prospects of her brothers and sisters blighted by lack of means to start them in life, is to be pardoned, if not commended, when she marries for money, but she should not deceive the man who gives it to her if she does not love him. the man with talents and high ambitions may easily be tempted to take the wife whose money will open a field for the realisation of his hopes. he would be more of a man if he fought his way through alone. the curse of it all is that no one marrying for money dares say so. it would be brutal, no doubt; and unless there were some fair equivalent to offer in exchange, probably few such marriages would take place. when the cloak of simulated love is thrown over the real motive, often only to be cast aside as soon as the prize is secured, it is hard not to feel contempt and indignation. { } marriage _with_ money is a necessity; marriage _for_ money is a mere business affair, a travesty of the sacred institution. "he that marries for money sells his liberty." it is humiliating enough for a woman, but immeasurably mean in a man. marrying for a home. the woman with strong domestic instincts, who dreads to face life alone, or has grown weary in the attempt to wage the fight single-handed, often yields to the temptation of marrying one who can give her a home, with only a secondary regard for the man himself. if she duly counts the cost and does not ask too much, the plan may succeed very well; but the entirely domestic woman does not hold the highest place in a man's mind. he may fully value the creature comforts she ensures for him, but she so soon becomes a drudge, and so soon loses touch with the higher side of his nature that he will probably seek sympathy elsewhere, and salve his conscience with the thought that he has given her what she really wanted most. she must never forget that she has to reckon with the man who has provided her with a home; and she will probably have to repay him in whatever coin he may choose. marrying for a housekeeper. the man who must keep a home together and maintain appearances grows tired of wrestling with domestic problems, and either dreads the sudden departure of his cook-housekeeper or trembles under her tyrannical sway. he finally takes a lady who cannot give him a month's notice, nor leave his roof by stealth without unpleasant consequences to herself. when he thus primarily marries for a housekeeper who will promote his own comfort, he should be satisfied if she shows the needful domestic efficiency. he sometimes finds that the one who was intended to be little more than a dependant turns out to be his mistress. there are plenty of level-headed women who have done with romance, and who are perfectly willing to take up the position of wife to a man who honestly states that he requires a companion to { } help his digestion by conversing at meals, to manage his house, entertain his guests, and darn his socks. when such a couple meet together let them show mutual respect for each other's motives, and invest the arrangement with comfort and dignity in the absence of tenderer emotions. concluding remarks. however short a marriage may fall of the high ideal standpoint, there should never be recrimination in public between man and wife, nor the utterance of taunts as to the avarice, expediency, or cowardice that may have influenced either side in the presence of a third person. few attain to the highest happiness of which we are capable in this state: few, perhaps, make the most of what they have; yet it is very rare to find a married woman who honestly wishes herself single, and that is a powerful argument in favour of an institution which seems to give the weaker sex her full share of the burden. there is much soul-disquieting discussion nowadays on the relative positions of the sexes. the following lines express that which surely might make marriage a very heaven on earth:-- "this is woman's need; to be a beacon when the air is dense, a bower of peace, a lifelong recompense-- this is the sum of woman's worldly creed. and what is man the while? and what his will? and what the furtherance of his worldly hope? to turn to faith, to turn, as to a rope a drowning sailor; all his blood to spill for one he loves, to keep her out of ill-- this is the will of man, and this his scope." { } index courtship and marriage, etiquette of-- acting as a host during, amateur acting and, artistic fellowship in, athletic comradeship in, best age for, between friends who have become lovers, breaches of etiquette in, , danger to be avoided in, a, dark side of an unequally aged, drifting in, etiquette for the man who lives at home in, etiquette for the man who lives in rooms, exchange of hospitality in, hints to the man about the girl's family, hints to the man making up his mind about, "ineligibles" and, intellectual affinity in, kindly offices of relations and friends, love at first sight, middle-aged lovers, old men who court youth, opportunities for, question of age in, the, question of presents, the, social inequality in, social intercourse and its etiquette, tact shown in, the girl's case, the man's case, with the bachelor girl, with the business girl, with the dramatic student, with the home girl, with the medical student and hospital nurse, with the student or professional girl, young lovers, young men who woo maturity, engagements-- attitude of parents and guardians in, breaking off, clandestine, congratulations on, etiquette of in former days, friends who act as go-betweens, going about together, his visits to her home, in france, in germany, in greece, in hungary, in italy, in norway, in russia, in spain, in sweden, in switzerland, justifiable clandestine, length of, the, letters from and to future mothers-in-law, love-letters, making acquaintance with future relations, making them known, parent's refusal to, question of expenses in, telling friends at a distance, the engaged couple-- in public, in society, visiting at the same house, the interview with the father, the ring, what the girl should avoid in, when the mother shares the secret, { } etiquette-- how to follow up an acquaintance, of intercourse between unconfessed lovers, of introductions, flirts-- female-- due reserve of, how they accept a changed situation, how they may give encouragement, how to ward off unwelcome offers, methods of, transparent devices of, kindly spontaneous flirts, male-- making a girl conspicuous, slow awakening of, two classes of, ways of escape for, who change their minds on the verge of a proposal, to withdraw gracefully from a flirtation, honeymoon, the-- disillusion, passing or permanent, how long to stay on, inevitable test of temperament, possible disappointments in, house, the-- bride's share in the matter, furnishing, selection of, things to be considered, marriage-- bride's burdens, the, bridesmaids' dresses, choice of bridesmaids, the, concluding remarks about, different nationalities, between, expenses of, fixing the day, invitations to the, mixed, necessary formalities in mixed, of british subjects living abroad, of different religious persuasions, marriages-- of minors and wards in chancery, proposals-- a woman's point of view, a warning to women, methods of, some things to avoid in, tact in choosing the opportunity for, too keen a sense of humour in, too much haste in, vaguely worded offers, when a woman may help, when the woman may take the initiative, question of colour, the, scotch, trousseau, the, wedding frocks, marrying-- for a home, for a housekeeper, for love, for money, newly married couple, the-- at home, in society, return home, the-- housekeeping, on, money matters, on, plunge into the practical, on, wedding calls, what it means, runaway matches, second marriages-- children, the, comparison with the predecessor, dress for a widow, for and against, home, the, widower, the, with a widow, wedding, the-- banns, bride's dowry, the, civil contract, the, licence for, nature of the ceremony, the, religious ceremony, the, settlements, witnesses for, wedding day, the-- arrangement of seats on, at the bride's house, best man, the, bride's parents, the, bridegroom, the, { } bridesmaids, the, dressing the bride, etiquette of, guests, the, journey, the, luggage on, presents on view, social side, the, some items of expense, starting for the honeymoon, tying of the knot, the, what is expected of the bride, where to go for the honeymoon, wedding presents-- art of giving, the, how to send them, temptation, a, what to give, weddings, continental-- breton, danish, french, german, hungarian, italian, norwegian, russian, spanish, swedish, swiss, the end none the book of tea by kakuzo okakura i. the cup of humanity tea began as a medicine and grew into a beverage. in china, in the eighth century, it entered the realm of poetry as one of the polite amusements. the fifteenth century saw japan ennoble it into a religion of aestheticism--teaism. teaism is a cult founded on the adoration of the beautiful among the sordid facts of everyday existence. it inculcates purity and harmony, the mystery of mutual charity, the romanticism of the social order. it is essentially a worship of the imperfect, as it is a tender attempt to accomplish something possible in this impossible thing we know as life. the philosophy of tea is not mere aestheticism in the ordinary acceptance of the term, for it expresses conjointly with ethics and religion our whole point of view about man and nature. it is hygiene, for it enforces cleanliness; it is economics, for it shows comfort in simplicity rather than in the complex and costly; it is moral geometry, inasmuch as it defines our sense of proportion to the universe. it represents the true spirit of eastern democracy by making all its votaries aristocrats in taste. the long isolation of japan from the rest of the world, so conducive to introspection, has been highly favourable to the development of teaism. our home and habits, costume and cuisine, porcelain, lacquer, painting--our very literature--all have been subject to its influence. no student of japanese culture could ever ignore its presence. it has permeated the elegance of noble boudoirs, and entered the abode of the humble. our peasants have learned to arrange flowers, our meanest labourer to offer his salutation to the rocks and waters. in our common parlance we speak of the man "with no tea" in him, when he is insusceptible to the serio-comic interests of the personal drama. again we stigmatise the untamed aesthete who, regardless of the mundane tragedy, runs riot in the springtide of emancipated emotions, as one "with too much tea" in him. the outsider may indeed wonder at this seeming much ado about nothing. what a tempest in a tea-cup! he will say. but when we consider how small after all the cup of human enjoyment is, how soon overflowed with tears, how easily drained to the dregs in our quenchless thirst for infinity, we shall not blame ourselves for making so much of the tea-cup. mankind has done worse. in the worship of bacchus, we have sacrificed too freely; and we have even transfigured the gory image of mars. why not consecrate ourselves to the queen of the camelias, and revel in the warm stream of sympathy that flows from her altar? in the liquid amber within the ivory-porcelain, the initiated may touch the sweet reticence of confucius, the piquancy of laotse, and the ethereal aroma of sakyamuni himself. those who cannot feel the littleness of great things in themselves are apt to overlook the greatness of little things in others. the average westerner, in his sleek complacency, will see in the tea ceremony but another instance of the thousand and one oddities which constitute the quaintness and childishness of the east to him. he was wont to regard japan as barbarous while she indulged in the gentle arts of peace: he calls her civilised since she began to commit wholesale slaughter on manchurian battlefields. much comment has been given lately to the code of the samurai,--the art of death which makes our soldiers exult in self-sacrifice; but scarcely any attention has been drawn to teaism, which represents so much of our art of life. fain would we remain barbarians, if our claim to civilisation were to be based on the gruesome glory of war. fain would we await the time when due respect shall be paid to our art and ideals. when will the west understand, or try to understand, the east? we asiatics are often appalled by the curious web of facts and fancies which has been woven concerning us. we are pictured as living on the perfume of the lotus, if not on mice and cockroaches. it is either impotent fanaticism or else abject voluptuousness. indian spirituality has been derided as ignorance, chinese sobriety as stupidity, japanese patriotism as the result of fatalism. it has been said that we are less sensible to pain and wounds on account of the callousness of our nervous organisation! why not amuse yourselves at our expense? asia returns the compliment. there would be further food for merriment if you were to know all that we have imagined and written about you. all the glamour of the perspective is there, all the unconscious homage of wonder, all the silent resentment of the new and undefined. you have been loaded with virtues too refined to be envied, and accused of crimes too picturesque to be condemned. our writers in the past--the wise men who knew--informed us that you had bushy tails somewhere hidden in your garments, and often dined off a fricassee of newborn babes! nay, we had something worse against you: we used to think you the most impracticable people on the earth, for you were said to preach what you never practiced. such misconceptions are fast vanishing amongst us. commerce has forced the european tongues on many an eastern port. asiatic youths are flocking to western colleges for the equipment of modern education. our insight does not penetrate your culture deeply, but at least we are willing to learn. some of my compatriots have adopted too much of your customs and too much of your etiquette, in the delusion that the acquisition of stiff collars and tall silk hats comprised the attainment of your civilisation. pathetic and deplorable as such affectations are, they evince our willingness to approach the west on our knees. unfortunately the western attitude is unfavourable to the understanding of the east. the christian missionary goes to impart, but not to receive. your information is based on the meagre translations of our immense literature, if not on the unreliable anecdotes of passing travellers. it is rarely that the chivalrous pen of a lafcadio hearn or that of the author of "the web of indian life" enlivens the oriental darkness with the torch of our own sentiments. perhaps i betray my own ignorance of the tea cult by being so outspoken. its very spirit of politeness exacts that you say what you are expected to say, and no more. but i am not to be a polite teaist. so much harm has been done already by the mutual misunderstanding of the new world and the old, that one need not apologise for contributing his tithe to the furtherance of a better understanding. the beginning of the twentieth century would have been spared the spectacle of sanguinary warfare if russia had condescended to know japan better. what dire consequences to humanity lie in the contemptuous ignoring of eastern problems! european imperialism, which does not disdain to raise the absurd cry of the yellow peril, fails to realise that asia may also awaken to the cruel sense of the white disaster. you may laugh at us for having "too much tea," but may we not suspect that you of the west have "no tea" in your constitution? let us stop the continents from hurling epigrams at each other, and be sadder if not wiser by the mutual gain of half a hemisphere. we have developed along different lines, but there is no reason why one should not supplement the other. you have gained expansion at the cost of restlessness; we have created a harmony which is weak against aggression. will you believe it?--the east is better off in some respects than the west! strangely enough humanity has so far met in the tea-cup. it is the only asiatic ceremonial which commands universal esteem. the white man has scoffed at our religion and our morals, but has accepted the brown beverage without hesitation. the afternoon tea is now an important function in western society. in the delicate clatter of trays and saucers, in the soft rustle of feminine hospitality, in the common catechism about cream and sugar, we know that the worship of tea is established beyond question. the philosophic resignation of the guest to the fate awaiting him in the dubious decoction proclaims that in this single instance the oriental spirit reigns supreme. the earliest record of tea in european writing is said to be found in the statement of an arabian traveller, that after the year the main sources of revenue in canton were the duties on salt and tea. marco polo records the deposition of a chinese minister of finance in for his arbitrary augmentation of the tea-taxes. it was at the period of the great discoveries that the european people began to know more about the extreme orient. at the end of the sixteenth century the hollanders brought the news that a pleasant drink was made in the east from the leaves of a bush. the travellers giovanni batista ramusio ( ), l. almeida ( ), maffeno ( ), tareira ( ), also mentioned tea. in the last-named year ships of the dutch east india company brought the first tea into europe. it was known in france in , and reached russia in . england welcomed it in and spoke of it as "that excellent and by all physicians approved china drink, called by the chineans tcha, and by other nations tay, alias tee." like all good things of the world, the propaganda of tea met with opposition. heretics like henry saville ( ) denounced drinking it as a filthy custom. jonas hanway (essay on tea, ) said that men seemed to lose their stature and comeliness, women their beauty through the use of tea. its cost at the start (about fifteen or sixteen shillings a pound) forbade popular consumption, and made it "regalia for high treatments and entertainments, presents being made thereof to princes and grandees." yet in spite of such drawbacks tea-drinking spread with marvelous rapidity. the coffee-houses of london in the early half of the eighteenth century became, in fact, tea-houses, the resort of wits like addison and steele, who beguiled themselves over their "dish of tea." the beverage soon became a necessity of life--a taxable matter. we are reminded in this connection what an important part it plays in modern history. colonial america resigned herself to oppression until human endurance gave way before the heavy duties laid on tea. american independence dates from the throwing of tea-chests into boston harbour. there is a subtle charm in the taste of tea which makes it irresistible and capable of idealisation. western humourists were not slow to mingle the fragrance of their thought with its aroma. it has not the arrogance of wine, the self-consciousness of coffee, nor the simpering innocence of cocoa. already in , says the spectator: "i would therefore in a particular manner recommend these my speculations to all well-regulated families that set apart an hour every morning for tea, bread and butter; and would earnestly advise them for their good to order this paper to be punctually served up and to be looked upon as a part of the tea-equipage." samuel johnson draws his own portrait as "a hardened and shameless tea drinker, who for twenty years diluted his meals with only the infusion of the fascinating plant; who with tea amused the evening, with tea solaced the midnight, and with tea welcomed the morning." charles lamb, a professed devotee, sounded the true note of teaism when he wrote that the greatest pleasure he knew was to do a good action by stealth, and to have it found out by accident. for teaism is the art of concealing beauty that you may discover it, of suggesting what you dare not reveal. it is the noble secret of laughing at yourself, calmly yet thoroughly, and is thus humour itself,--the smile of philosophy. all genuine humourists may in this sense be called tea-philosophers, thackeray, for instance, and of course, shakespeare. the poets of the decadence (when was not the world in decadence?), in their protests against materialism, have, to a certain extent, also opened the way to teaism. perhaps nowadays it is our demure contemplation of the imperfect that the west and the east can meet in mutual consolation. the taoists relate that at the great beginning of the no-beginning, spirit and matter met in mortal combat. at last the yellow emperor, the sun of heaven, triumphed over shuhyung, the demon of darkness and earth. the titan, in his death agony, struck his head against the solar vault and shivered the blue dome of jade into fragments. the stars lost their nests, the moon wandered aimlessly among the wild chasms of the night. in despair the yellow emperor sought far and wide for the repairer of the heavens. he had not to search in vain. out of the eastern sea rose a queen, the divine niuka, horn-crowned and dragon-tailed, resplendent in her armor of fire. she welded the five-coloured rainbow in her magic cauldron and rebuilt the chinese sky. but it is told that niuka forgot to fill two tiny crevices in the blue firmament. thus began the dualism of love--two souls rolling through space and never at rest until they join together to complete the universe. everyone has to build anew his sky of hope and peace. the heaven of modern humanity is indeed shattered in the cyclopean struggle for wealth and power. the world is groping in the shadow of egotism and vulgarity. knowledge is bought through a bad conscience, benevolence practiced for the sake of utility. the east and the west, like two dragons tossed in a sea of ferment, in vain strive to regain the jewel of life. we need a niuka again to repair the grand devastation; we await the great avatar. meanwhile, let us have a sip of tea. the afternoon glow is brightening the bamboos, the fountains are bubbling with delight, the soughing of the pines is heard in our kettle. let us dream of evanescence, and linger in the beautiful foolishness of things. ii. the schools of tea. tea is a work of art and needs a master hand to bring out its noblest qualities. we have good and bad tea, as we have good and bad paintings--generally the latter. there is no single recipe for making the perfect tea, as there are no rules for producing a titian or a sesson. each preparation of the leaves has its individuality, its special affinity with water and heat, its own method of telling a story. the truly beautiful must always be in it. how much do we not suffer through the constant failure of society to recognise this simple and fundamental law of art and life; lichilai, a sung poet, has sadly remarked that there were three most deplorable things in the world: the spoiling of fine youths through false education, the degradation of fine art through vulgar admiration, and the utter waste of fine tea through incompetent manipulation. like art, tea has its periods and its schools. its evolution may be roughly divided into three main stages: the boiled tea, the whipped tea, and the steeped tea. we moderns belong to the last school. these several methods of appreciating the beverage are indicative of the spirit of the age in which they prevailed. for life is an expression, our unconscious actions the constant betrayal of our innermost thought. confucius said that "man hideth not." perhaps we reveal ourselves too much in small things because we have so little of the great to conceal. the tiny incidents of daily routine are as much a commentary of racial ideals as the highest flight of philosophy or poetry. even as the difference in favorite vintage marks the separate idiosyncrasies of different periods and nationalities of europe, so the tea-ideals characterise the various moods of oriental culture. the cake-tea which was boiled, the powdered-tea which was whipped, the leaf-tea which was steeped, mark the distinct emotional impulses of the tang, the sung, and the ming dynasties of china. if we were inclined to borrow the much-abused terminology of art-classification, we might designate them respectively, the classic, the romantic, and the naturalistic schools of tea. the tea-plant, a native of southern china, was known from very early times to chinese botany and medicine. it is alluded to in the classics under the various names of tou, tseh, chung, kha, and ming, and was highly prized for possessing the virtues of relieving fatigue, delighting the soul, strengthening the will, and repairing the eyesight. it was not only administered as an internal dose, but often applied externally in form of paste to alleviate rheumatic pains. the taoists claimed it as an important ingredient of the elixir of immortality. the buddhists used it extensively to prevent drowsiness during their long hours of meditation. by the fourth and fifth centuries tea became a favourite beverage among the inhabitants of the yangtse-kiang valley. it was about this time that modern ideograph cha was coined, evidently a corruption of the classic tou. the poets of the southern dynasties have left some fragments of their fervent adoration of the "froth of the liquid jade." then emperors used to bestow some rare preparation of the leaves on their high ministers as a reward for eminent services. yet the method of drinking tea at this stage was primitive in the extreme. the leaves were steamed, crushed in a mortar, made into a cake, and boiled together with rice, ginger, salt, orange peel, spices, milk, and sometimes with onions! the custom obtains at the present day among the thibetans and various mongolian tribes, who make a curious syrup of these ingredients. the use of lemon slices by the russians, who learned to take tea from the chinese caravansaries, points to the survival of the ancient method. it needed the genius of the tang dynasty to emancipate tea from its crude state and lead to its final idealization. with luwuh in the middle of the eighth century we have our first apostle of tea. he was born in an age when buddhism, taoism, and confucianism were seeking mutual synthesis. the pantheistic symbolism of the time was urging one to mirror the universal in the particular. luwuh, a poet, saw in the tea-service the same harmony and order which reigned through all things. in his celebrated work, the "chaking" (the holy scripture of tea) he formulated the code of tea. he has since been worshipped as the tutelary god of the chinese tea merchants. the "chaking" consists of three volumes and ten chapters. in the first chapter luwuh treats of the nature of the tea-plant, in the second of the implements for gathering the leaves, in the third of the selection of the leaves. according to him the best quality of the leaves must have "creases like the leathern boot of tartar horsemen, curl like the dewlap of a mighty bullock, unfold like a mist rising out of a ravine, gleam like a lake touched by a zephyr, and be wet and soft like fine earth newly swept by rain." the fourth chapter is devoted to the enumeration and description of the twenty-four members of the tea-equipage, beginning with the tripod brazier and ending with the bamboo cabinet for containing all these utensils. here we notice luwuh's predilection for taoist symbolism. also it is interesting to observe in this connection the influence of tea on chinese ceramics. the celestial porcelain, as is well known, had its origin in an attempt to reproduce the exquisite shade of jade, resulting, in the tang dynasty, in the blue glaze of the south, and the white glaze of the north. luwuh considered the blue as the ideal colour for the tea-cup, as it lent additional greenness to the beverage, whereas the white made it look pinkish and distasteful. it was because he used cake-tea. later on, when the tea masters of sung took to the powdered tea, they preferred heavy bowls of blue-black and dark brown. the mings, with their steeped tea, rejoiced in light ware of white porcelain. in the fifth chapter luwuh describes the method of making tea. he eliminates all ingredients except salt. he dwells also on the much-discussed question of the choice of water and the degree of boiling it. according to him, the mountain spring is the best, the river water and the spring water come next in the order of excellence. there are three stages of boiling: the first boil is when the little bubbles like the eye of fishes swim on the surface; the second boil is when the bubbles are like crystal beads rolling in a fountain; the third boil is when the billows surge wildly in the kettle. the cake-tea is roasted before the fire until it becomes soft like a baby's arm and is shredded into powder between pieces of fine paper. salt is put in the first boil, the tea in the second. at the third boil, a dipperful of cold water is poured into the kettle to settle the tea and revive the "youth of the water." then the beverage was poured into cups and drunk. o nectar! the filmy leaflet hung like scaly clouds in a serene sky or floated like waterlilies on emerald streams. it was of such a beverage that lotung, a tang poet, wrote: "the first cup moistens my lips and throat, the second cup breaks my loneliness, the third cup searches my barren entrail but to find therein some five thousand volumes of odd ideographs. the fourth cup raises a slight perspiration,--all the wrong of life passes away through my pores. at the fifth cup i am purified; the sixth cup calls me to the realms of the immortals. the seventh cup--ah, but i could take no more! i only feel the breath of cool wind that rises in my sleeves. where is horaisan? let me ride on this sweet breeze and waft away thither." the remaining chapters of the "chaking" treat of the vulgarity of the ordinary methods of tea-drinking, a historical summary of illustrious tea-drinkers, the famous tea plantations of china, the possible variations of the tea-service and illustrations of the tea-utensils. the last is unfortunately lost. the appearance of the "chaking" must have created considerable sensation at the time. luwuh was befriended by the emperor taisung ( - ), and his fame attracted many followers. some exquisites were said to have been able to detect the tea made by luwuh from that of his disciples. one mandarin has his name immortalised by his failure to appreciate the tea of this great master. in the sung dynasty the whipped tea came into fashion and created the second school of tea. the leaves were ground to fine powder in a small stone mill, and the preparation was whipped in hot water by a delicate whisk made of split bamboo. the new process led to some change in the tea-equipage of luwuh, as well as in the choice of leaves. salt was discarded forever. the enthusiasm of the sung people for tea knew no bounds. epicures vied with each other in discovering new varieties, and regular tournaments were held to decide their superiority. the emperor kiasung ( - ), who was too great an artist to be a well-behaved monarch, lavished his treasures on the attainment of rare species. he himself wrote a dissertation on the twenty kinds of tea, among which he prizes the "white tea" as of the rarest and finest quality. the tea-ideal of the sungs differed from the tangs even as their notion of life differed. they sought to actualize what their predecessors tried to symbolise. to the neo-confucian mind the cosmic law was not reflected in the phenomenal world, but the phenomenal world was the cosmic law itself. aeons were but moments--nirvana always within grasp. the taoist conception that immortality lay in the eternal change permeated all their modes of thought. it was the process, not the deed, which was interesting. it was the completing, not the completion, which was really vital. man came thus at once face to face with nature. a new meaning grew into the art of life. the tea began to be not a poetical pastime, but one of the methods of self-realisation. wangyucheng eulogised tea as "flooding his soul like a direct appeal, that its delicate bitterness reminded him of the aftertaste of a good counsel." sotumpa wrote of the strength of the immaculate purity in tea which defied corruption as a truly virtuous man. among the buddhists, the southern zen sect, which incorporated so much of taoist doctrines, formulated an elaborate ritual of tea. the monks gathered before the image of bodhi dharma and drank tea out of a single bowl with the profound formality of a holy sacrament. it was this zen ritual which finally developed into the tea-ceremony of japan in the fifteenth century. unfortunately the sudden outburst of the mongol tribes in the thirteenth century which resulted in the devastation and conquest of china under the barbaric rule of the yuen emperors, destroyed all the fruits of sung culture. the native dynasty of the mings which attempted re-nationalisation in the middle of the fifteenth century was harassed by internal troubles, and china again fell under the alien rule of the manchus in the seventeenth century. manners and customs changed to leave no vestige of the former times. the powdered tea is entirely forgotten. we find a ming commentator at loss to recall the shape of the tea whisk mentioned in one of the sung classics. tea is now taken by steeping the leaves in hot water in a bowl or cup. the reason why the western world is innocent of the older method of drinking tea is explained by the fact that europe knew it only at the close of the ming dynasty. to the latter-day chinese tea is a delicious beverage, but not an ideal. the long woes of his country have robbed him of the zest for the meaning of life. he has become modern, that is to say, old and disenchanted. he has lost that sublime faith in illusions which constitutes the eternal youth and vigour of the poets and ancients. he is an eclectic and politely accepts the traditions of the universe. he toys with nature, but does not condescend to conquer or worship her. his leaf-tea is often wonderful with its flower-like aroma, but the romance of the tang and sung ceremonials are not to be found in his cup. japan, which followed closely on the footsteps of chinese civilisation, has known the tea in all its three stages. as early as the year we read of the emperor shomu giving tea to one hundred monks at his palace in nara. the leaves were probably imported by our ambassadors to the tang court and prepared in the way then in fashion. in the monk saicho brought back some seeds and planted them in yeisan. many tea-gardens are heard of in succeeding centuries, as well as the delight of the aristocracy and priesthood in the beverage. the sung tea reached us in with the return of yeisai-zenji, who went there to study the southern zen school. the new seeds which he carried home were successfully planted in three places, one of which, the uji district near kioto, bears still the name of producing the best tea in the world. the southern zen spread with marvelous rapidity, and with it the tea-ritual and the tea-ideal of the sung. by the fifteenth century, under the patronage of the shogun, ashikaga-voshinasa, the tea ceremony is fully constituted and made into an independent and secular performance. since then teaism is fully established in japan. the use of the steeped tea of the later china is comparatively recent among us, being only known since the middle of the seventeenth century. it has replaced the powdered tea in ordinary consumption, though the latter still continues to hold its place as the tea of teas. it is in the japanese tea ceremony that we see the culmination of tea-ideals. our successful resistance of the mongol invasion in had enabled us to carry on the sung movement so disastrously cut off in china itself through the nomadic inroad. tea with us became more than an idealisation of the form of drinking; it is a religion of the art of life. the beverage grew to be an excuse for the worship of purity and refinement, a sacred function at which the host and guest joined to produce for that occasion the utmost beatitude of the mundane. the tea-room was an oasis in the dreary waste of existence where weary travellers could meet to drink from the common spring of art-appreciation. the ceremony was an improvised drama whose plot was woven about the tea, the flowers, and the paintings. not a colour to disturb the tone of the room, not a sound to mar the rhythm of things, not a gesture to obtrude on the harmony, not a word to break the unity of the surroundings, all movements to be performed simply and naturally--such were the aims of the tea-ceremony. and strangely enough it was often successful. a subtle philosophy lay behind it all. teaism was taoism in disguise. iii. taoism and zennism the connection of zennism with tea is proverbial. we have already remarked that the tea-ceremony was a development of the zen ritual. the name of laotse, the founder of taoism, is also intimately associated with the history of tea. it is written in the chinese school manual concerning the origin of habits and customs that the ceremony of offering tea to a guest began with kwanyin, a well-known disciple of laotse, who first at the gate of the han pass presented to the "old philosopher" a cup of the golden elixir. we shall not stop to discuss the authenticity of such tales, which are valuable, however, as confirming the early use of the beverage by the taoists. our interest in taoism and zennism here lies mainly in those ideas regarding life and art which are so embodied in what we call teaism. it is to be regretted that as yet there appears to be no adequate presentation of the taoists and zen doctrines in any foreign language, though we have had several laudable attempts. translation is always a treason, and as a ming author observes, can at its best be only the reverse side of a brocade,--all the threads are there, but not the subtlety of colour or design. but, after all, what great doctrine is there which is easy to expound? the ancient sages never put their teachings in systematic form. they spoke in paradoxes, for they were afraid of uttering half-truths. they began by talking like fools and ended by making their hearers wise. laotse himself, with his quaint humour, says, "if people of inferior intelligence hear of the tao, they laugh immensely. it would not be the tao unless they laughed at it." the tao literally means a path. it has been severally translated as the way, the absolute, the law, nature, supreme reason, the mode. these renderings are not incorrect, for the use of the term by the taoists differs according to the subject-matter of the inquiry. laotse himself spoke of it thus: "there is a thing which is all-containing, which was born before the existence of heaven and earth. how silent! how solitary! it stands alone and changes not. it revolves without danger to itself and is the mother of the universe. i do not know its name and so call it the path. with reluctance i call it the infinite. infinity is the fleeting, the fleeting is the vanishing, the vanishing is the reverting." the tao is in the passage rather than the path. it is the spirit of cosmic change,--the eternal growth which returns upon itself to produce new forms. it recoils upon itself like the dragon, the beloved symbol of the taoists. it folds and unfolds as do the clouds. the tao might be spoken of as the great transition. subjectively it is the mood of the universe. its absolute is the relative. it should be remembered in the first place that taoism, like its legitimate successor zennism, represents the individualistic trend of the southern chinese mind in contra-distinction to the communism of northern china which expressed itself in confucianism. the middle kingdom is as vast as europe and has a differentiation of idiosyncrasies marked by the two great river systems which traverse it. the yangtse-kiang and hoang-ho are respectively the mediterranean and the baltic. even to-day, in spite of centuries of unification, the southern celestial differs in his thoughts and beliefs from his northern brother as a member of the latin race differs from the teuton. in ancient days, when communication was even more difficult than at present, and especially during the feudal period, this difference in thought was most pronounced. the art and poetry of the one breathes an atmosphere entirely distinct from that of the other. in laotse and his followers and in kutsugen, the forerunner of the yangtse-kiang nature-poets, we find an idealism quite inconsistent with the prosaic ethical notions of their contemporary northern writers. laotse lived five centuries before the christian era. the germ of taoist speculation may be found long before the advent of laotse, surnamed the long-eared. the archaic records of china, especially the book of changes, foreshadow his thought. but the great respect paid to the laws and customs of that classic period of chinese civilisation which culminated with the establishment of the chow dynasty in the sixteenth century b.c., kept the development of individualism in check for a long while, so that it was not until after the disintegration of the chow dynasty and the establishment of innumerable independent kingdoms that it was able to blossom forth in the luxuriance of free-thought. laotse and soshi (chuangtse) were both southerners and the greatest exponents of the new school. on the other hand, confucius with his numerous disciples aimed at retaining ancestral conventions. taoism cannot be understood without some knowledge of confucianism and vice versa. we have said that the taoist absolute was the relative. in ethics the taoist railed at the laws and the moral codes of society, for to them right and wrong were but relative terms. definition is always limitation--the "fixed" and "unchangeless" are but terms expressive of a stoppage of growth. said kuzugen,--"the sages move the world." our standards of morality are begotten of the past needs of society, but is society to remain always the same? the observance of communal traditions involves a constant sacrifice of the individual to the state. education, in order to keep up the mighty delusion, encourages a species of ignorance. people are not taught to be really virtuous, but to behave properly. we are wicked because we are frightfully self-conscious. we nurse a conscience because we are afraid to tell the truth to others; we take refuge in pride because we are afraid to tell the truth to ourselves. how can one be serious with the world when the world itself is so ridiculous! the spirit of barter is everywhere. honour and chastity! behold the complacent salesman retailing the good and true. one can even buy a so-called religion, which is really but common morality sanctified with flowers and music. rob the church of her accessories and what remains behind? yet the trusts thrive marvelously, for the prices are absurdly cheap,--a prayer for a ticket to heaven, a diploma for an honourable citizenship. hide yourself under a bushel quickly, for if your real usefulness were known to the world you would soon be knocked down to the highest bidder by the public auctioneer. why do men and women like to advertise themselves so much? is it not but an instinct derived from the days of slavery? the virility of the idea lies not less in its power of breaking through contemporary thought than in its capacity for dominating subsequent movements. taoism was an active power during the shin dynasty, that epoch of chinese unification from which we derive the name china. it would be interesting had we time to note its influence on contemporary thinkers, the mathematicians, writers on law and war, the mystics and alchemists and the later nature-poets of the yangtse-kiang. we should not even ignore those speculators on reality who doubted whether a white horse was real because he was white, or because he was solid, nor the conversationalists of the six dynasties who, like the zen philosophers, revelled in discussions concerning the pure and the abstract. above all we should pay homage to taoism for what it has done toward the formation of the celestial character, giving to it a certain capacity for reserve and refinement as "warm as jade." chinese history is full of instances in which the votaries of taoism, princes and hermits alike, followed with varied and interesting results the teachings of their creed. the tale will not be without its quota of instruction and amusement. it will be rich in anecdotes, allegories, and aphorisms. we would fain be on speaking terms with the delightful emperor who never died because he had never lived. we may ride the wind with liehtse and find it absolutely quiet because we ourselves are the wind, or dwell in mid-air with the aged one of the hoang-ho, who lived betwixt heaven and earth because he was subject to neither the one nor the other. even in that grotesque apology for taoism which we find in china at the present day, we can revel in a wealth of imagery impossible to find in any other cult. but the chief contribution of taoism to asiatic life has been in the realm of aesthetics. chinese historians have always spoken of taoism as the "art of being in the world," for it deals with the present--ourselves. it is in us that god meets with nature, and yesterday parts from to-morrow. the present is the moving infinity, the legitimate sphere of the relative. relativity seeks adjustment; adjustment is art. the art of life lies in a constant readjustment to our surroundings. taoism accepts the mundane as it is and, unlike the confucians or the buddhists, tries to find beauty in our world of woe and worry. the sung allegory of the three vinegar tasters explains admirably the trend of the three doctrines. sakyamuni, confucius, and laotse once stood before a jar of vinegar--the emblem of life--and each dipped in his finger to taste the brew. the matter-of-fact confucius found it sour, the buddha called it bitter, and laotse pronounced it sweet. the taoists claimed that the comedy of life could be made more interesting if everyone would preserve the unities. to keep the proportion of things and give place to others without losing one's own position was the secret of success in the mundane drama. we must know the whole play in order to properly act our parts; the conception of totality must never be lost in that of the individual. this laotse illustrates by his favourite metaphor of the vacuum. he claimed that only in vacuum lay the truly essential. the reality of a room, for instance, was to be found in the vacant space enclosed by the roof and the walls, not in the roof and walls themselves. the usefulness of a water pitcher dwelt in the emptiness where water might be put, not in the form of the pitcher or the material of which it was made. vacuum is all potent because all containing. in vacuum alone motion becomes possible. one who could make of himself a vacuum into which others might freely enter would become master of all situations. the whole can always dominate the part. these taoists' ideas have greatly influenced all our theories of action, even to those of fencing and wrestling. jiu-jitsu, the japanese art of self-defence, owes its name to a passage in the tao-teking. in jiu-jitsu one seeks to draw out and exhaust the enemy's strength by non-resistance, vacuum, while conserving one's own strength for victory in the final struggle. in art the importance of the same principle is illustrated by the value of suggestion. in leaving something unsaid the beholder is given a chance to complete the idea and thus a great masterpiece irresistibly rivets your attention until you seem to become actually a part of it. a vacuum is there for you to enter and fill up the full measure of your aesthetic emotion. he who had made himself master of the art of living was the real man of the taoist. at birth he enters the realm of dreams only to awaken to reality at death. he tempers his own brightness in order to merge himself into the obscurity of others. he is "reluctant, as one who crosses a stream in winter; hesitating as one who fears the neighbourhood; respectful, like a guest; trembling, like ice that is about to melt; unassuming, like a piece of wood not yet carved; vacant, like a valley; formless, like troubled waters." to him the three jewels of life were pity, economy, and modesty. if now we turn our attention to zennism we shall find that it emphasises the teachings of taoism. zen is a name derived from the sanscrit word dhyana, which signifies meditation. it claims that through consecrated meditation may be attained supreme self-realisation. meditation is one of the six ways through which buddhahood may be reached, and the zen sectarians affirm that sakyamuni laid special stress on this method in his later teachings, handing down the rules to his chief disciple kashiapa. according to their tradition kashiapa, the first zen patriarch, imparted the secret to ananda, who in turn passed it on to successive patriarchs until it reached bodhi-dharma, the twenty-eighth. bodhi-dharma came to northern china in the early half of the sixth century and was the first patriarch of chinese zen. there is much uncertainty about the history of these patriarchs and their doctrines. in its philosophical aspect early zennism seems to have affinity on one hand to the indian negativism of nagarjuna and on the other to the gnan philosophy formulated by sancharacharya. the first teaching of zen as we know it at the present day must be attributed to the sixth chinese patriarch yeno( - ), founder of southern zen, so-called from the fact of its predominance in southern china. he is closely followed by the great baso(died ) who made of zen a living influence in celestial life. hiakujo( - ) the pupil of baso, first instituted the zen monastery and established a ritual and regulations for its government. in the discussions of the zen school after the time of baso we find the play of the yangtse-kiang mind causing an accession of native modes of thought in contrast to the former indian idealism. whatever sectarian pride may assert to the contrary one cannot help being impressed by the similarity of southern zen to the teachings of laotse and the taoist conversationalists. in the tao-teking we already find allusions to the importance of self-concentration and the need of properly regulating the breath--essential points in the practice of zen meditation. some of the best commentaries on the book of laotse have been written by zen scholars. zennism, like taoism, is the worship of relativity. one master defines zen as the art of feeling the polar star in the southern sky. truth can be reached only through the comprehension of opposites. again, zennism, like taoism, is a strong advocate of individualism. nothing is real except that which concerns the working of our own minds. yeno, the sixth patriarch, once saw two monks watching the flag of a pagoda fluttering in the wind. one said "it is the wind that moves," the other said "it is the flag that moves"; but yeno explained to them that the real movement was neither of the wind nor the flag, but of something within their own minds. hiakujo was walking in the forest with a disciple when a hare scurried off at their approach. "why does the hare fly from you?" asked hiakujo. "because he is afraid of me," was the answer. "no," said the master, "it is because you have murderous instinct." the dialogue recalls that of soshi (chaungtse), the taoist. one day soshi was walking on the bank of a river with a friend. "how delightfully the fishes are enjoying themselves in the water!" exclaimed soshi. his friend spake to him thus: "you are not a fish; how do you know that the fishes are enjoying themselves?" "you are not myself," returned soshi; "how do you know that i do not know that the fishes are enjoying themselves?" zen was often opposed to the precepts of orthodox buddhism even as taoism was opposed to confucianism. to the transcendental insight of the zen, words were but an incumbrance to thought; the whole sway of buddhist scriptures only commentaries on personal speculation. the followers of zen aimed at direct communion with the inner nature of things, regarding their outward accessories only as impediments to a clear perception of truth. it was this love of the abstract that led the zen to prefer black and white sketches to the elaborately coloured paintings of the classic buddhist school. some of the zen even became iconoclastic as a result of their endeavor to recognise the buddha in themselves rather than through images and symbolism. we find tankawosho breaking up a wooden statue of buddha on a wintry day to make a fire. "what sacrilege!" said the horror-stricken bystander. "i wish to get the shali out of the ashes," calmly rejoined the zen. "but you certainly will not get shali from this image!" was the angry retort, to which tanka replied, "if i do not, this is certainly not a buddha and i am committing no sacrilege." then he turned to warm himself over the kindling fire. a special contribution of zen to eastern thought was its recognition of the mundane as of equal importance with the spiritual. it held that in the great relation of things there was no distinction of small and great, an atom possessing equal possibilities with the universe. the seeker for perfection must discover in his own life the reflection of the inner light. the organisation of the zen monastery was very significant of this point of view. to every member, except the abbot, was assigned some special work in the caretaking of the monastery, and curiously enough, to the novices was committed the lighter duties, while to the most respected and advanced monks were given the more irksome and menial tasks. such services formed a part of the zen discipline and every least action must be done absolutely perfectly. thus many a weighty discussion ensued while weeding the garden, paring a turnip, or serving tea. the whole ideal of teaism is a result of this zen conception of greatness in the smallest incidents of life. taoism furnished the basis for aesthetic ideals, zennism made them practical. iv. the tea-room to european architects brought up on the traditions of stone and brick construction, our japanese method of building with wood and bamboo seems scarcely worthy to be ranked as architecture. it is but quite recently that a competent student of western architecture has recognised and paid tribute to the remarkable perfection of our great temples. such being the case as regards our classic architecture, we could hardly expect the outsider to appreciate the subtle beauty of the tea-room, its principles of construction and decoration being entirely different from those of the west. the tea-room (the sukiya) does not pretend to be other than a mere cottage--a straw hut, as we call it. the original ideographs for sukiya mean the abode of fancy. latterly the various tea-masters substituted various chinese characters according to their conception of the tea-room, and the term sukiya may signify the abode of vacancy or the abode of the unsymmetrical. it is an abode of fancy inasmuch as it is an ephemeral structure built to house a poetic impulse. it is an abode of vacancy inasmuch as it is devoid of ornamentation except for what may be placed in it to satisfy some aesthetic need of the moment. it is an abode of the unsymmetrical inasmuch as it is consecrated to the worship of the imperfect, purposely leaving some thing unfinished for the play of the imagination to complete. the ideals of teaism have since the sixteenth century influenced our architecture to such degree that the ordinary japanese interior of the present day, on account of the extreme simplicity and chasteness of its scheme of decoration, appears to foreigners almost barren. the first independent tea-room was the creation of senno-soyeki, commonly known by his later name of rikiu, the greatest of all tea-masters, who, in the sixteenth century, under the patronage of taiko-hideyoshi, instituted and brought to a high state of perfection the formalities of the tea-ceremony. the proportions of the tea-room had been previously determined by jowo--a famous tea-master of the fifteenth century. the early tea-room consisted merely of a portion of the ordinary drawing-room partitioned off by screens for the purpose of the tea-gathering. the portion partitioned off was called the kakoi (enclosure), a name still applied to those tea-rooms which are built into a house and are not independent constructions. the sukiya consists of the tea-room proper, designed to accommodate not more than five persons, a number suggestive of the saying "more than the graces and less than the muses," an anteroom (midsuya) where the tea utensils are washed and arranged before being brought in, a portico (machiai) in which the guests wait until they receive the summons to enter the tea-room, and a garden path (the roji) which connects the machiai with the tea-room. the tea-room is unimpressive in appearance. it is smaller than the smallest of japanese houses, while the materials used in its construction are intended to give the suggestion of refined poverty. yet we must remember that all this is the result of profound artistic forethought, and that the details have been worked out with care perhaps even greater than that expended on the building of the richest palaces and temples. a good tea-room is more costly than an ordinary mansion, for the selection of its materials, as well as its workmanship, requires immense care and precision. indeed, the carpenters employed by the tea-masters form a distinct and highly honoured class among artisans, their work being no less delicate than that of the makers of lacquer cabinets. the tea-room is not only different from any production of western architecture, but also contrasts strongly with the classical architecture of japan itself. our ancient noble edifices, whether secular or ecclesiastical, were not to be despised even as regards their mere size. the few that have been spared in the disastrous conflagrations of centuries are still capable of aweing us by the grandeur and richness of their decoration. huge pillars of wood from two to three feet in diameter and from thirty to forty feet high, supported, by a complicated network of brackets, the enormous beams which groaned under the weight of the tile-covered roofs. the material and mode of construction, though weak against fire, proved itself strong against earthquakes, and was well suited to the climatic conditions of the country. in the golden hall of horiuji and the pagoda of yakushiji, we have noteworthy examples of the durability of our wooden architecture. these buildings have practically stood intact for nearly twelve centuries. the interior of the old temples and palaces was profusely decorated. in the hoodo temple at uji, dating from the tenth century, we can still see the elaborate canopy and gilded baldachinos, many-coloured and inlaid with mirrors and mother-of-pearl, as well as remains of the paintings and sculpture which formerly covered the walls. later, at nikko and in the nijo castle in kyoto, we see structural beauty sacrificed to a wealth of ornamentation which in colour and exquisite detail equals the utmost gorgeousness of arabian or moorish effort. the simplicity and purism of the tea-room resulted from emulation of the zen monastery. a zen monastery differs from those of other buddhist sects inasmuch as it is meant only to be a dwelling place for the monks. its chapel is not a place of worship or pilgrimage, but a college room where the students congregate for discussion and the practice of meditation. the room is bare except for a central alcove in which, behind the altar, is a statue of bodhi dharma, the founder of the sect, or of sakyamuni attended by kashiapa and ananda, the two earliest zen patriarchs. on the altar, flowers and incense are offered up in the memory of the great contributions which these sages made to zen. we have already said that it was the ritual instituted by the zen monks of successively drinking tea out of a bowl before the image of bodhi dharma, which laid the foundations of the tea-ceremony. we might add here that the altar of the zen chapel was the prototype of the tokonoma,--the place of honour in a japanese room where paintings and flowers are placed for the edification of the guests. all our great tea-masters were students of zen and attempted to introduce the spirit of zennism into the actualities of life. thus the room, like the other equipments of the tea-ceremony, reflects many of the zen doctrines. the size of the orthodox tea-room, which is four mats and a half, or ten feet square, is determined by a passage in the sutra of vikramadytia. in that interesting work, vikramadytia welcomes the saint manjushiri and eighty-four thousand disciples of buddha in a room of this size,--an allegory based on the theory of the non-existence of space to the truly enlightened. again the roji, the garden path which leads from the machiai to the tea-room, signified the first stage of meditation,--the passage into self-illumination. the roji was intended to break connection with the outside world, and produce a fresh sensation conducive to the full enjoyment of aestheticism in the tea-room itself. one who has trodden this garden path cannot fail to remember how his spirit, as he walked in the twilight of evergreens over the regular irregularities of the stepping stones, beneath which lay dried pine needles, and passed beside the moss-covered granite lanterns, became uplifted above ordinary thoughts. one may be in the midst of a city, and yet feel as if he were in the forest far away from the dust and din of civilisation. great was the ingenuity displayed by the tea-masters in producing these effects of serenity and purity. the nature of the sensations to be aroused in passing through the roji differed with different tea-masters. some, like rikiu, aimed at utter loneliness, and claimed the secret of making a roji was contained in the ancient ditty: "i look beyond; flowers are not, nor tinted leaves. on the sea beach a solitary cottage stands in the waning light of an autumn eve." others, like kobori-enshiu, sought for a different effect. enshiu said the idea of the garden path was to be found in the following verses: "a cluster of summer trees, a bit of the sea, a pale evening moon." it is not difficult to gather his meaning. he wished to create the attitude of a newly awakened soul still lingering amid shadowy dreams of the past, yet bathing in the sweet unconsciousness of a mellow spiritual light, and yearning for the freedom that lay in the expanse beyond. thus prepared the guest will silently approach the sanctuary, and, if a samurai, will leave his sword on the rack beneath the eaves, the tea-room being preeminently the house of peace. then he will bend low and creep into the room through a small door not more than three feet in height. this proceeding was incumbent on all guests,--high and low alike,--and was intended to inculcate humility. the order of precedence having been mutually agreed upon while resting in the machiai, the guests one by one will enter noiselessly and take their seats, first making obeisance to the picture or flower arrangement on the tokonoma. the host will not enter the room until all the guests have seated themselves and quiet reigns with nothing to break the silence save the note of the boiling water in the iron kettle. the kettle sings well, for pieces of iron are so arranged in the bottom as to produce a peculiar melody in which one may hear the echoes of a cataract muffled by clouds, of a distant sea breaking among the rocks, a rainstorm sweeping through a bamboo forest, or of the soughing of pines on some faraway hill. even in the daytime the light in the room is subdued, for the low eaves of the slanting roof admit but few of the sun's rays. everything is sober in tint from the ceiling to the floor; the guests themselves have carefully chosen garments of unobtrusive colors. the mellowness of age is over all, everything suggestive of recent acquirement being tabooed save only the one note of contrast furnished by the bamboo dipper and the linen napkin, both immaculately white and new. however faded the tea-room and the tea-equipage may seem, everything is absolutely clean. not a particle of dust will be found in the darkest corner, for if any exists the host is not a tea-master. one of the first requisites of a tea-master is the knowledge of how to sweep, clean, and wash, for there is an art in cleaning and dusting. a piece of antique metal work must not be attacked with the unscrupulous zeal of the dutch housewife. dripping water from a flower vase need not be wiped away, for it may be suggestive of dew and coolness. in this connection there is a story of rikiu which well illustrates the ideas of cleanliness entertained by the tea-masters. rikiu was watching his son shoan as he swept and watered the garden path. "not clean enough," said rikiu, when shoan had finished his task, and bade him try again. after a weary hour the son turned to rikiu: "father, there is nothing more to be done. the steps have been washed for the third time, the stone lanterns and the trees are well sprinkled with water, moss and lichens are shining with a fresh verdure; not a twig, not a leaf have i left on the ground." "young fool," chided the tea-master, "that is not the way a garden path should be swept." saying this, rikiu stepped into the garden, shook a tree and scattered over the garden gold and crimson leaves, scraps of the brocade of autumn! what rikiu demanded was not cleanliness alone, but the beautiful and the natural also. the name, abode of fancy, implies a structure created to meet some individual artistic requirement. the tea-room is made for the tea master, not the tea-master for the tea-room. it is not intended for posterity and is therefore ephemeral. the idea that everyone should have a house of his own is based on an ancient custom of the japanese race, shinto superstition ordaining that every dwelling should be evacuated on the death of its chief occupant. perhaps there may have been some unrealized sanitary reason for this practice. another early custom was that a newly built house should be provided for each couple that married. it is on account of such customs that we find the imperial capitals so frequently removed from one site to another in ancient days. the rebuilding, every twenty years, of ise temple, the supreme shrine of the sun-goddess, is an example of one of these ancient rites which still obtain at the present day. the observance of these customs was only possible with some form of construction as that furnished by our system of wooden architecture, easily pulled down, easily built up. a more lasting style, employing brick and stone, would have rendered migrations impracticable, as indeed they became when the more stable and massive wooden construction of china was adopted by us after the nara period. with the predominance of zen individualism in the fifteenth century, however, the old idea became imbued with a deeper significance as conceived in connection with the tea-room. zennism, with the buddhist theory of evanescence and its demands for the mastery of spirit over matter, recognized the house only as a temporary refuge for the body. the body itself was but as a hut in the wilderness, a flimsy shelter made by tying together the grasses that grew around,--when these ceased to be bound together they again became resolved into the original waste. in the tea-room fugitiveness is suggested in the thatched roof, frailty in the slender pillars, lightness in the bamboo support, apparent carelessness in the use of commonplace materials. the eternal is to be found only in the spirit which, embodied in these simple surroundings, beautifies them with the subtle light of its refinement. that the tea-room should be built to suit some individual taste is an enforcement of the principle of vitality in art. art, to be fully appreciated, must be true to contemporaneous life. it is not that we should ignore the claims of posterity, but that we should seek to enjoy the present more. it is not that we should disregard the creations of the past, but that we should try to assimilate them into our consciousness. slavish conformity to traditions and formulas fetters the expression of individuality in architecture. we can but weep over the senseless imitations of european buildings which one beholds in modern japan. we marvel why, among the most progressive western nations, architecture should be so devoid of originality, so replete with repetitions of obsolete styles. perhaps we are passing through an age of democratisation in art, while awaiting the rise of some princely master who shall establish a new dynasty. would that we loved the ancients more and copied them less! it has been said that the greeks were great because they never drew from the antique. the term, abode of vacancy, besides conveying the taoist theory of the all-containing, involves the conception of a continued need of change in decorative motives. the tea-room is absolutely empty, except for what may be placed there temporarily to satisfy some aesthetic mood. some special art object is brought in for the occasion, and everything else is selected and arranged to enhance the beauty of the principal theme. one cannot listen to different pieces of music at the same time, a real comprehension of the beautiful being possible only through concentration upon some central motive. thus it will be seen that the system of decoration in our tea-rooms is opposed to that which obtains in the west, where the interior of a house is often converted into a museum. to a japanese, accustomed to simplicity of ornamentation and frequent change of decorative method, a western interior permanently filled with a vast array of pictures, statuary, and bric-a-brac gives the impression of mere vulgar display of riches. it calls for a mighty wealth of appreciation to enjoy the constant sight of even a masterpiece, and limitless indeed must be the capacity for artistic feeling in those who can exist day after day in the midst of such confusion of color and form as is to be often seen in the homes of europe and america. the "abode of the unsymmetrical" suggests another phase of our decorative scheme. the absence of symmetry in japanese art objects has been often commented on by western critics. this, also, is a result of a working out through zennism of taoist ideals. confucianism, with its deep-seated idea of dualism, and northern buddhism with its worship of a trinity, were in no way opposed to the expression of symmetry. as a matter of fact, if we study the ancient bronzes of china or the religious arts of the tang dynasty and the nara period, we shall recognize a constant striving after symmetry. the decoration of our classical interiors was decidedly regular in its arrangement. the taoist and zen conception of perfection, however, was different. the dynamic nature of their philosophy laid more stress upon the process through which perfection was sought than upon perfection itself. true beauty could be discovered only by one who mentally completed the incomplete. the virility of life and art lay in its possibilities for growth. in the tea-room it is left for each guest in imagination to complete the total effect in relation to himself. since zennism has become the prevailing mode of thought, the art of the extreme orient has purposefully avoided the symmetrical as expressing not only completion, but repetition. uniformity of design was considered fatal to the freshness of imagination. thus, landscapes, birds, and flowers became the favorite subjects for depiction rather than the human figure, the latter being present in the person of the beholder himself. we are often too much in evidence as it is, and in spite of our vanity even self-regard is apt to become monotonous. in the tea-room the fear of repetition is a constant presence. the various objects for the decoration of a room should be so selected that no colour or design shall be repeated. if you have a living flower, a painting of flowers is not allowable. if you are using a round kettle, the water pitcher should be angular. a cup with a black glaze should not be associated with a tea-caddy of black lacquer. in placing a vase of an incense burner on the tokonoma, care should be taken not to put it in the exact centre, lest it divide the space into equal halves. the pillar of the tokonoma should be of a different kind of wood from the other pillars, in order to break any suggestion of monotony in the room. here again the japanese method of interior decoration differs from that of the occident, where we see objects arrayed symmetrically on mantelpieces and elsewhere. in western houses we are often confronted with what appears to us useless reiteration. we find it trying to talk to a man while his full-length portrait stares at us from behind his back. we wonder which is real, he of the picture or he who talks, and feel a curious conviction that one of them must be fraud. many a time have we sat at a festive board contemplating, with a secret shock to our digestion, the representation of abundance on the dining-room walls. why these pictured victims of chase and sport, the elaborate carvings of fishes and fruit? why the display of family plates, reminding us of those who have dined and are dead? the simplicity of the tea-room and its freedom from vulgarity make it truly a sanctuary from the vexations of the outer world. there and there alone one can consecrate himself to undisturbed adoration of the beautiful. in the sixteenth century the tea-room afforded a welcome respite from labour to the fierce warriors and statesmen engaged in the unification and reconstruction of japan. in the seventeenth century, after the strict formalism of the tokugawa rule had been developed, it offered the only opportunity possible for the free communion of artistic spirits. before a great work of art there was no distinction between daimyo, samurai, and commoner. nowadays industrialism is making true refinement more and more difficult all the world over. do we not need the tea-room more than ever? v. art appreciation have you heard the taoist tale of the taming of the harp? once in the hoary ages in the ravine of lungmen stood a kiri tree, a veritable king of the forest. it reared its head to talk to the stars; its roots struck deep into the earth, mingling their bronzed coils with those of the silver dragon that slept beneath. and it came to pass that a mighty wizard made of this tree a wondrous harp, whose stubborn spirit should be tamed but by the greatest of musicians. for long the instrument was treasured by the emperor of china, but all in vain were the efforts of those who in turn tried to draw melody from its strings. in response to their utmost strivings there came from the harp but harsh notes of disdain, ill-according with the songs they fain would sing. the harp refused to recognise a master. at last came peiwoh, the prince of harpists. with tender hand he caressed the harp as one might seek to soothe an unruly horse, and softly touched the chords. he sang of nature and the seasons, of high mountains and flowing waters, and all the memories of the tree awoke! once more the sweet breath of spring played amidst its branches. the young cataracts, as they danced down the ravine, laughed to the budding flowers. anon were heard the dreamy voices of summer with its myriad insects, the gentle pattering of rain, the wail of the cuckoo. hark! a tiger roars,--the valley answers again. it is autumn; in the desert night, sharp like a sword gleams the moon upon the frosted grass. now winter reigns, and through the snow-filled air swirl flocks of swans and rattling hailstones beat upon the boughs with fierce delight. then peiwoh changed the key and sang of love. the forest swayed like an ardent swain deep lost in thought. on high, like a haughty maiden, swept a cloud bright and fair; but passing, trailed long shadows on the ground, black like despair. again the mode was changed; peiwoh sang of war, of clashing steel and trampling steeds. and in the harp arose the tempest of lungmen, the dragon rode the lightning, the thundering avalanche crashed through the hills. in ecstasy the celestial monarch asked peiwoh wherein lay the secret of his victory. "sire," he replied, "others have failed because they sang but of themselves. i left the harp to choose its theme, and knew not truly whether the harp had been peiwoh or peiwoh were the harp." this story well illustrates the mystery of art appreciation. the masterpiece is a symphony played upon our finest feelings. true art is peiwoh, and we the harp of lungmen. at the magic touch of the beautiful the secret chords of our being are awakened, we vibrate and thrill in response to its call. mind speaks to mind. we listen to the unspoken, we gaze upon the unseen. the master calls forth notes we know not of. memories long forgotten all come back to us with a new significance. hopes stifled by fear, yearnings that we dare not recognise, stand forth in new glory. our mind is the canvas on which the artists lay their colour; their pigments are our emotions; their chiaroscuro the light of joy, the shadow of sadness. the masterpiece is of ourselves, as we are of the masterpiece. the sympathetic communion of minds necessary for art appreciation must be based on mutual concession. the spectator must cultivate the proper attitude for receiving the message, as the artist must know how to impart it. the tea-master, kobori-enshiu, himself a daimyo, has left to us these memorable words: "approach a great painting as thou wouldst approach a great prince." in order to understand a masterpiece, you must lay yourself low before it and await with bated breath its least utterance. an eminent sung critic once made a charming confession. said he: "in my young days i praised the master whose pictures i liked, but as my judgement matured i praised myself for liking what the masters had chosen to have me like." it is to be deplored that so few of us really take pains to study the moods of the masters. in our stubborn ignorance we refuse to render them this simple courtesy, and thus often miss the rich repast of beauty spread before our very eyes. a master has always something to offer, while we go hungry solely because of our own lack of appreciation. to the sympathetic a masterpiece becomes a living reality towards which we feel drawn in bonds of comradeship. the masters are immortal, for their loves and fears live in us over and over again. it is rather the soul than the hand, the man than the technique, which appeals to us,--the more human the call the deeper is our response. it is because of this secret understanding between the master and ourselves that in poetry or romance we suffer and rejoice with the hero and heroine. chikamatsu, our japanese shakespeare, has laid down as one of the first principles of dramatic composition the importance of taking the audience into the confidence of the author. several of his pupils submitted plays for his approval, but only one of the pieces appealed to him. it was a play somewhat resembling the comedy of errors, in which twin brethren suffer through mistaken identity. "this," said chikamatsu, "has the proper spirit of the drama, for it takes the audience into consideration. the public is permitted to know more than the actors. it knows where the mistake lies, and pities the poor figures on the board who innocently rush to their fate." the great masters both of the east and the west never forgot the value of suggestion as a means for taking the spectator into their confidence. who can contemplate a masterpiece without being awed by the immense vista of thought presented to our consideration? how familiar and sympathetic are they all; how cold in contrast the modern commonplaces! in the former we feel the warm outpouring of a man's heart; in the latter only a formal salute. engrossed in his technique, the modern rarely rises above himself. like the musicians who vainly invoked the lungmen harp, he sings only of himself. his works may be nearer science, but are further from humanity. we have an old saying in japan that a woman cannot love a man who is truly vain, for their is no crevice in his heart for love to enter and fill up. in art vanity is equally fatal to sympathetic feeling, whether on the part of the artist or the public. nothing is more hallowing than the union of kindred spirits in art. at the moment of meeting, the art lover transcends himself. at once he is and is not. he catches a glimpse of infinity, but words cannot voice his delight, for the eye has no tongue. freed from the fetters of matter, his spirit moves in the rhythm of things. it is thus that art becomes akin to religion and ennobles mankind. it is this which makes a masterpiece something sacred. in the old days the veneration in which the japanese held the work of the great artist was intense. the tea-masters guarded their treasures with religious secrecy, and it was often necessary to open a whole series of boxes, one within another, before reaching the shrine itself--the silken wrapping within whose soft folds lay the holy of holies. rarely was the object exposed to view, and then only to the initiated. at the time when teaism was in the ascendency the taiko's generals would be better satisfied with the present of a rare work of art than a large grant of territory as a reward of victory. many of our favourite dramas are based on the loss and recovery of a noted masterpiece. for instance, in one play the palace of lord hosokawa, in which was preserved the celebrated painting of dharuma by sesson, suddenly takes fire through the negligence of the samurai in charge. resolved at all hazards to rescue the precious painting, he rushes into the burning building and seizes the kakemono, only to find all means of exit cut off by the flames. thinking only of the picture, he slashes open his body with his sword, wraps his torn sleeve about the sesson and plunges it into the gaping wound. the fire is at last extinguished. among the smoking embers is found a half-consumed corpse, within which reposes the treasure uninjured by the fire. horrible as such tales are, they illustrate the great value that we set upon a masterpiece, as well as the devotion of a trusted samurai. we must remember, however, that art is of value only to the extent that it speaks to us. it might be a universal language if we ourselves were universal in our sympathies. our finite nature, the power of tradition and conventionality, as well as our hereditary instincts, restrict the scope of our capacity for artistic enjoyment. our very individuality establishes in one sense a limit to our understanding; and our aesthetic personality seeks its own affinities in the creations of the past. it is true that with cultivation our sense of art appreciation broadens, and we become able to enjoy many hitherto unrecognised expressions of beauty. but, after all, we see only our own image in the universe,--our particular idiosyncracies dictate the mode of our perceptions. the tea-masters collected only objects which fell strictly within the measure of their individual appreciation. one is reminded in this connection of a story concerning kobori-enshiu. enshiu was complimented by his disciples on the admirable taste he had displayed in the choice of his collection. said they, "each piece is such that no one could help admiring. it shows that you had better taste than had rikiu, for his collection could only be appreciated by one beholder in a thousand." sorrowfully enshiu replied: "this only proves how commonplace i am. the great rikiu dared to love only those objects which personally appealed to him, whereas i unconsciously cater to the taste of the majority. verily, rikiu was one in a thousand among tea-masters." it is much to be regretted that so much of the apparent enthusiasm for art at the present day has no foundation in real feeling. in this democratic age of ours men clamour for what is popularly considered the best, regardless of their feelings. they want the costly, not the refined; the fashionable, not the beautiful. to the masses, contemplation of illustrated periodicals, the worthy product of their own industrialism, would give more digestible food for artistic enjoyment than the early italians or the ashikaga masters, whom they pretend to admire. the name of the artist is more important to them than the quality of the work. as a chinese critic complained many centuries ago, "people criticise a picture by their ear." it is this lack of genuine appreciation that is responsible for the pseudo-classic horrors that to-day greet us wherever we turn. another common mistake is that of confusing art with archaeology. the veneration born of antiquity is one of the best traits in the human character, and fain would we have it cultivated to a greater extent. the old masters are rightly to be honoured for opening the path to future enlightenment. the mere fact that they have passed unscathed through centuries of criticism and come down to us still covered with glory commands our respect. but we should be foolish indeed if we valued their achievement simply on the score of age. yet we allow our historical sympathy to override our aesthetic discrimination. we offer flowers of approbation when the artist is safely laid in his grave. the nineteenth century, pregnant with the theory of evolution, has moreover created in us the habit of losing sight of the individual in the species. a collector is anxious to acquire specimens to illustrate a period or a school, and forgets that a single masterpiece can teach us more than any number of the mediocre products of a given period or school. we classify too much and enjoy too little. the sacrifice of the aesthetic to the so-called scientific method of exhibition has been the bane of many museums. the claims of contemporary art cannot be ignored in any vital scheme of life. the art of to-day is that which really belongs to us: it is our own reflection. in condemning it we but condemn ourselves. we say that the present age possesses no art:--who is responsible for this? it is indeed a shame that despite all our rhapsodies about the ancients we pay so little attention to our own possibilities. struggling artists, weary souls lingering in the shadow of cold disdain! in our self-centered century, what inspiration do we offer them? the past may well look with pity at the poverty of our civilisation; the future will laugh at the barrenness of our art. we are destroying the beautiful in life. would that some great wizard might from the stem of society shape a mighty harp whose strings would resound to the touch of genius. vi. flowers in the trembling grey of a spring dawn, when the birds were whispering in mysterious cadence among the trees, have you not felt that they were talking to their mates about the flowers? surely with mankind the appreciation of flowers must have been coeval with the poetry of love. where better than in a flower, sweet in its unconsciousness, fragrant because of its silence, can we image the unfolding of a virgin soul? the primeval man in offering the first garland to his maiden thereby transcended the brute. he became human in thus rising above the crude necessities of nature. he entered the realm of art when he perceived the subtle use of the useless. in joy or sadness, flowers are our constant friends. we eat, drink, sing, dance, and flirt with them. we wed and christen with flowers. we dare not die without them. we have worshipped with the lily, we have meditated with the lotus, we have charged in battle array with the rose and the chrysanthemum. we have even attempted to speak in the language of flowers. how could we live without them? it frightens one to conceive of a world bereft of their presence. what solace do they not bring to the bedside of the sick, what a light of bliss to the darkness of weary spirits? their serene tenderness restores to us our waning confidence in the universe even as the intent gaze of a beautiful child recalls our lost hopes. when we are laid low in the dust it is they who linger in sorrow over our graves. sad as it is, we cannot conceal the fact that in spite of our companionship with flowers we have not risen very far above the brute. scratch the sheepskin and the wolf within us will soon show his teeth. it has been said that a man at ten is an animal, at twenty a lunatic, at thirty a failure, at forty a fraud, and at fifty a criminal. perhaps he becomes a criminal because he has never ceased to be an animal. nothing is real to us but hunger, nothing sacred except our own desires. shrine after shrine has crumbled before our eyes; but one altar is forever preserved, that whereon we burn incense to the supreme idol,--ourselves. our god is great, and money is his prophet! we devastate nature in order to make sacrifice to him. we boast that we have conquered matter and forget that it is matter that has enslaved us. what atrocities do we not perpetrate in the name of culture and refinement! tell me, gentle flowers, teardrops of the stars, standing in the garden, nodding your heads to the bees as they sing of the dews and the sunbeams, are you aware of the fearful doom that awaits you? dream on, sway and frolic while you may in the gentle breezes of summer. to-morrow a ruthless hand will close around your throats. you will be wrenched, torn asunder limb by limb, and borne away from your quiet homes. the wretch, she may be passing fair. she may say how lovely you are while her fingers are still moist with your blood. tell me, will this be kindness? it may be your fate to be imprisoned in the hair of one whom you know to be heartless or to be thrust into the buttonhole of one who would not dare to look you in the face were you a man. it may even be your lot to be confined in some narrow vessel with only stagnant water to quench the maddening thirst that warns of ebbing life. flowers, if you were in the land of the mikado, you might some time meet a dread personage armed with scissors and a tiny saw. he would call himself a master of flowers. he would claim the rights of a doctor and you would instinctively hate him, for you know a doctor always seeks to prolong the troubles of his victims. he would cut, bend, and twist you into those impossible positions which he thinks it proper that you should assume. he would contort your muscles and dislocate your bones like any osteopath. he would burn you with red-hot coals to stop your bleeding, and thrust wires into you to assist your circulation. he would diet you with salt, vinegar, alum, and sometimes, vitriol. boiling water would be poured on your feet when you seemed ready to faint. it would be his boast that he could keep life within you for two or more weeks longer than would have been possible without his treatment. would you not have preferred to have been killed at once when you were first captured? what were the crimes you must have committed during your past incarnation to warrant such punishment in this? the wanton waste of flowers among western communities is even more appalling than the way they are treated by eastern flower masters. the number of flowers cut daily to adorn the ballrooms and banquet-tables of europe and america, to be thrown away on the morrow, must be something enormous; if strung together they might garland a continent. beside this utter carelessness of life, the guilt of the flower-master becomes insignificant. he, at least, respects the economy of nature, selects his victims with careful foresight, and after death does honour to their remains. in the west the display of flowers seems to be a part of the pageantry of wealth,--the fancy of a moment. whither do they all go, these flowers, when the revelry is over? nothing is more pitiful than to see a faded flower remorselessly flung upon a dung heap. why were the flowers born so beautiful and yet so hapless? insects can sting, and even the meekest of beasts will fight when brought to bay. the birds whose plumage is sought to deck some bonnet can fly from its pursuer, the furred animal whose coat you covet for your own may hide at your approach. alas! the only flower known to have wings is the butterfly; all others stand helpless before the destroyer. if they shriek in their death agony their cry never reaches our hardened ears. we are ever brutal to those who love and serve us in silence, but the time may come when, for our cruelty, we shall be deserted by these best friends of ours. have you not noticed that the wild flowers are becoming scarcer every year? it may be that their wise men have told them to depart till man becomes more human. perhaps they have migrated to heaven. much may be said in favor of him who cultivates plants. the man of the pot is far more humane than he of the scissors. we watch with delight his concern about water and sunshine, his feuds with parasites, his horror of frosts, his anxiety when the buds come slowly, his rapture when the leaves attain their lustre. in the east the art of floriculture is a very ancient one, and the loves of a poet and his favorite plant have often been recorded in story and song. with the development of ceramics during the tang and sung dynasties we hear of wonderful receptacles made to hold plants, not pots, but jewelled palaces. a special attendant was detailed to wait upon each flower and to wash its leaves with soft brushes made of rabbit hair. it has been written ["pingtse", by yuenchunlang] that the peony should be bathed by a handsome maiden in full costume, that a winter-plum should be watered by a pale, slender monk. in japan, one of the most popular of the no-dances, the hachinoki, composed during the ashikaga period, is based upon the story of an impoverished knight, who, on a freezing night, in lack of fuel for a fire, cuts his cherished plants in order to entertain a wandering friar. the friar is in reality no other than hojo-tokiyori, the haroun-al-raschid of our tales, and the sacrifice is not without its reward. this opera never fails to draw tears from a tokio audience even to-day. great precautions were taken for the preservation of delicate blossoms. emperor huensung, of the tang dynasty, hung tiny golden bells on the branches in his garden to keep off the birds. he it was who went off in the springtime with his court musicians to gladden the flowers with soft music. a quaint tablet, which tradition ascribes to yoshitsune, the hero of our arthurian legends, is still extant in one of the japanese monasteries [sumadera, near kobe]. it is a notice put up for the protection of a certain wonderful plum-tree, and appeals to us with the grim humour of a warlike age. after referring to the beauty of the blossoms, the inscription says: "whoever cuts a single branch of this tree shall forfeit a finger therefor." would that such laws could be enforced nowadays against those who wantonly destroy flowers and mutilate objects of art! yet even in the case of pot flowers we are inclined to suspect the selfishness of man. why take the plants from their homes and ask them to bloom mid strange surroundings? is it not like asking the birds to sing and mate cooped up in cages? who knows but that the orchids feel stifled by the artificial heat in your conservatories and hopelessly long for a glimpse of their own southern skies? the ideal lover of flowers is he who visits them in their native haunts, like taoyuenming [all celebrated chinese poets and philosophers], who sat before a broken bamboo fence in converse with the wild chrysanthemum, or linwosing, losing himself amid mysterious fragrance as he wandered in the twilight among the plum-blossoms of the western lake. 'tis said that chowmushih slept in a boat so that his dreams might mingle with those of the lotus. it was the same spirit which moved the empress komio, one of our most renowned nara sovereigns, as she sang: "if i pluck thee, my hand will defile thee, o flower! standing in the meadows as thou art, i offer thee to the buddhas of the past, of the present, of the future." however, let us not be too sentimental. let us be less luxurious but more magnificent. said laotse: "heaven and earth are pitiless." said kobodaishi: "flow, flow, flow, flow, the current of life is ever onward. die, die, die, die, death comes to all." destruction faces us wherever we turn. destruction below and above, destruction behind and before. change is the only eternal,--why not as welcome death as life? they are but counterparts one of the other,--the night and day of brahma. through the disintegration of the old, re-creation becomes possible. we have worshipped death, the relentless goddess of mercy, under many different names. it was the shadow of the all-devouring that the gheburs greeted in the fire. it is the icy purism of the sword-soul before which shinto-japan prostrates herself even to-day. the mystic fire consumes our weakness, the sacred sword cleaves the bondage of desire. from our ashes springs the phoenix of celestial hope, out of the freedom comes a higher realisation of manhood. why not destroy flowers if thereby we can evolve new forms ennobling the world idea? we only ask them to join in our sacrifice to the beautiful. we shall atone for the deed by consecrating ourselves to purity and simplicity. thus reasoned the tea-masters when they established the cult of flowers. anyone acquainted with the ways of our tea- and flower-masters must have noticed the religious veneration with which they regard flowers. they do not cull at random, but carefully select each branch or spray with an eye to the artistic composition they have in mind. they would be ashamed should they chance to cut more than were absolutely necessary. it may be remarked in this connection that they always associate the leaves, if there be any, with the flower, for the object is to present the whole beauty of plant life. in this respect, as in many others, their method differs from that pursued in western countries. here we are apt to see only the flower stems, heads as it were, without body, stuck promiscuously into a vase. when a tea-master has arranged a flower to his satisfaction he will place it on the tokonoma, the place of honour in a japanese room. nothing else will be placed near it which might interfere with its effect, not even a painting, unless there be some special aesthetic reason for the combination. it rests there like an enthroned prince, and the guests or disciples on entering the room will salute it with a profound bow before making their addresses to the host. drawings from masterpieces are made and published for the edification of amateurs. the amount of literature on the subject is quite voluminous. when the flower fades, the master tenderly consigns it to the river or carefully buries it in the ground. monuments are sometimes erected to their memory. the birth of the art of flower arrangement seems to be simultaneous with that of teaism in the fifteenth century. our legends ascribe the first flower arrangement to those early buddhist saints who gathered the flowers strewn by the storm and, in their infinite solicitude for all living things, placed them in vessels of water. it is said that soami, the great painter and connoisseur of the court of ashikaga-yoshimasa, was one of the earliest adepts at it. juko, the tea-master, was one of his pupils, as was also senno, the founder of the house of ikenobo, a family as illustrious in the annals of flowers as was that of the kanos in painting. with the perfecting of the tea-ritual under rikiu, in the latter part of the sixteenth century, flower arrangement also attains its full growth. rikiu and his successors, the celebrated oda-wuraka, furuka-oribe, koyetsu, kobori-enshiu, katagiri-sekishiu, vied with each other in forming new combinations. we must remember, however, that the flower-worship of the tea-masters formed only a part of their aesthetic ritual, and was not a distinct religion by itself. a flower arrangement, like the other works of art in the tea-room, was subordinated to the total scheme of decoration. thus sekishiu ordained that white plum blossoms should not be made use of when snow lay in the garden. "noisy" flowers were relentlessly banished from the tea-room. a flower arrangement by a tea-master loses its significance if removed from the place for which it was originally intended, for its lines and proportions have been specially worked out with a view to its surroundings. the adoration of the flower for its own sake begins with the rise of "flower-masters," toward the middle of the seventeenth century. it now becomes independent of the tea-room and knows no law save that the vase imposes on it. new conceptions and methods of execution now become possible, and many were the principles and schools resulting therefrom. a writer in the middle of the last century said he could count over one hundred different schools of flower arrangement. broadly speaking, these divide themselves into two main branches, the formalistic and the naturalesque. the formalistic schools, led by the ikenobos, aimed at a classic idealism corresponding to that of the kano-academicians. we possess records of arrangements by the early masters of the school which almost reproduce the flower paintings of sansetsu and tsunenobu. the naturalesque school, on the other hand, accepted nature as its model, only imposing such modifications of form as conduced to the expression of artistic unity. thus we recognise in its works the same impulses which formed the ukiyoe and shijo schools of painting. it would be interesting, had we time, to enter more fully than it is now possible into the laws of composition and detail formulated by the various flower-masters of this period, showing, as they would, the fundamental theories which governed tokugawa decoration. we find them referring to the leading principle (heaven), the subordinate principle (earth), the reconciling principle (man), and any flower arrangement which did not embody these principles was considered barren and dead. they also dwelt much on the importance of treating a flower in its three different aspects, the formal, the semi-formal, and the informal. the first might be said to represent flowers in the stately costume of the ballroom, the second in the easy elegance of afternoon dress, the third in the charming deshabille of the boudoir. our personal sympathies are with the flower-arrangements of the tea-master rather than with those of the flower-master. the former is art in its proper setting and appeals to us on account of its true intimacy with life. we should like to call this school the natural in contradistinction to the naturalesque and formalistic schools. the tea-master deems his duty ended with the selection of the flowers, and leaves them to tell their own story. entering a tea-room in late winter, you may see a slender spray of wild cherries in combination with a budding camellia; it is an echo of departing winter coupled with the prophecy of spring. again, if you go into a noon-tea on some irritatingly hot summer day, you may discover in the darkened coolness of the tokonoma a single lily in a hanging vase; dripping with dew, it seems to smile at the foolishness of life. a solo of flowers is interesting, but in a concerto with painting and sculpture the combination becomes entrancing. sekishiu once placed some water-plants in a flat receptacle to suggest the vegetation of lakes and marshes, and on the wall above he hung a painting by soami of wild ducks flying in the air. shoha, another tea-master, combined a poem on the beauty of solitude by the sea with a bronze incense burner in the form of a fisherman's hut and some wild flowers of the beach. one of the guests has recorded that he felt in the whole composition the breath of waning autumn. flower stories are endless. we shall recount but one more. in the sixteenth century the morning-glory was as yet a rare plant with us. rikiu had an entire garden planted with it, which he cultivated with assiduous care. the fame of his convulvuli reached the ear of the taiko, and he expressed a desire to see them, in consequence of which rikiu invited him to a morning tea at his house. on the appointed day taiko walked through the garden, but nowhere could he see any vestige of the convulvulus. the ground had been leveled and strewn with fine pebbles and sand. with sullen anger the despot entered the tea-room, but a sight waited him there which completely restored his humour. on the tokonoma, in a rare bronze of sung workmanship, lay a single morning-glory--the queen of the whole garden! in such instances we see the full significance of the flower sacrifice. perhaps the flowers appreciate the full significance of it. they are not cowards, like men. some flowers glory in death--certainly the japanese cherry blossoms do, as they freely surrender themselves to the winds. anyone who has stood before the fragrant avalanche at yoshino or arashiyama must have realized this. for a moment they hover like bejewelled clouds and dance above the crystal streams; then, as they sail away on the laughing waters, they seem to say: "farewell, o spring! we are on to eternity." vii. tea-masters in religion the future is behind us. in art the present is the eternal. the tea-masters held that real appreciation of art is only possible to those who make of it a living influence. thus they sought to regulate their daily life by the high standard of refinement which obtained in the tea-room. in all circumstances serenity of mind should be maintained, and conversation should be conducted as never to mar the harmony of the surroundings. the cut and color of the dress, the poise of the body, and the manner of walking could all be made expressions of artistic personality. these were matters not to be lightly ignored, for until one has made himself beautiful he has no right to approach beauty. thus the tea-master strove to be something more than the artist,--art itself. it was the zen of aestheticism. perfection is everywhere if we only choose to recognise it. rikiu loved to quote an old poem which says: "to those who long only for flowers, fain would i show the full-blown spring which abides in the toiling buds of snow-covered hills." manifold indeed have been the contributions of the tea-masters to art. they completely revolutionised the classical architecture and interior decorations, and established the new style which we have described in the chapter of the tea-room, a style to whose influence even the palaces and monasteries built after the sixteenth century have all been subject. the many-sided kobori-enshiu has left notable examples of his genius in the imperial villa of katsura, the castles of nagoya and nijo, and the monastery of kohoan. all the celebrated gardens of japan were laid out by the tea-masters. our pottery would probably never have attained its high quality of excellence if the tea-masters had not lent it to their inspiration, the manufacture of the utensils used in the tea-ceremony calling forth the utmost expenditure of ingenuity on the parts of our ceramists. the seven kilns of enshiu are well known to all students of japanese pottery. many of our textile fabrics bear the names of tea-masters who conceived their color or design. it is impossible, indeed, to find any department of art in which the tea-masters have not left marks of their genius. in painting and lacquer it seems almost superfluous to mention the immense services they have rendered. one of the greatest schools of painting owes its origin to the tea-master honnami-koyetsu, famed also as a lacquer artist and potter. beside his works, the splendid creation of his grandson, koho, and of his grand-nephews, korin and kenzan, almost fall into the shade. the whole korin school, as it is generally designated, is an expression of teaism. in the broad lines of this school we seem to find the vitality of nature herself. great as has been the influence of the tea-masters in the field of art, it is as nothing compared to that which they have exerted on the conduct of life. not only in the usages of polite society, but also in the arrangement of all our domestic details, do we feel the presence of the tea-masters. many of our delicate dishes, as well as our way of serving food, are their inventions. they have taught us to dress only in garments of sober colors. they have instructed us in the proper spirit in which to approach flowers. they have given emphasis to our natural love of simplicity, and shown us the beauty of humility. in fact, through their teachings tea has entered the life of the people. those of us who know not the secret of properly regulating our own existence on this tumultuous sea of foolish troubles which we call life are constantly in a state of misery while vainly trying to appear happy and contented. we stagger in the attempt to keep our moral equilibrium, and see forerunners of the tempest in every cloud that floats on the horizon. yet there is joy and beauty in the roll of billows as they sweep outward toward eternity. why not enter into their spirit, or, like liehtse, ride upon the hurricane itself? he only who has lived with the beautiful can die beautifully. the last moments of the great tea-masters were as full of exquisite refinement as had been their lives. seeking always to be in harmony with the great rhythm of the universe, they were ever prepared to enter the unknown. the "last tea of rikiu" will stand forth forever as the acme of tragic grandeur. long had been the friendship between rikiu and the taiko-hideyoshi, and high the estimation in which the great warrior held the tea-master. but the friendship of a despot is ever a dangerous honour. it was an age rife with treachery, and men trusted not even their nearest kin. rikiu was no servile courtier, and had often dared to differ in argument with his fierce patron. taking advantage of the coldness which had for some time existed between the taiko and rikiu, the enemies of the latter accused him of being implicated in a conspiracy to poison the despot. it was whispered to hideyoshi that the fatal potion was to be administered to him with a cup of the green beverage prepared by the tea-master. with hideyoshi suspicion was sufficient ground for instant execution, and there was no appeal from the will of the angry ruler. one privilege alone was granted to the condemned--the honor of dying by his own hand. on the day destined for his self-immolation, rikiu invited his chief disciples to a last tea-ceremony. mournfully at the appointed time the guests met at the portico. as they look into the garden path the trees seem to shudder, and in the rustling of their leaves are heard the whispers of homeless ghosts. like solemn sentinels before the gates of hades stand the grey stone lanterns. a wave of rare incense is wafted from the tea-room; it is the summons which bids the guests to enter. one by one they advance and take their places. in the tokonoma hangs a kakemon,--a wonderful writing by an ancient monk dealing with the evanescence of all earthly things. the singing kettle, as it boils over the brazier, sounds like some cicada pouring forth his woes to departing summer. soon the host enters the room. each in turn is served with tea, and each in turn silently drains his cup, the host last of all. according to established etiquette, the chief guest now asks permission to examine the tea-equipage. rikiu places the various articles before them, with the kakemono. after all have expressed admiration of their beauty, rikiu presents one of them to each of the assembled company as a souvenir. the bowl alone he keeps. "never again shall this cup, polluted by the lips of misfortune, be used by man." he speaks, and breaks the vessel into fragments. the ceremony is over; the guests with difficulty restraining their tears, take their last farewell and leave the room. one only, the nearest and dearest, is requested to remain and witness the end. rikiu then removes his tea-gown and carefully folds it upon the mat, thereby disclosing the immaculate white death robe which it had hitherto concealed. tenderly he gazes on the shining blade of the fatal dagger, and in exquisite verse thus addresses it: "welcome to thee, o sword of eternity! through buddha and through dharuma alike thou hast cleft thy way." with a smile upon his face rikiu passed forth into the unknown. none cliff castles and cave dwellings of europe by s. baring-gould, m.a. [illustration: cliff-castle, brengues. in this castle the bishop of cahors took refuge from the english, to whom he refused to submit, and in it he died in . it was however captured by the english in .] "the house i' the rock . . . no life to ours." cymbeline iii. . preface when in appeared the report of the secretary of war for the united states, containing mr. j. h. simpson's account of the cliff dwellings in colorado, great surprise was awakened in america, and since then these remains have been investigated by many explorers, of whom i need only name holmes' "report of the ancient ruins in south-west colorado during the summers of and ," and jackson's "ruins of south- west colorado in and ." powell, newberry, &c., have also described them. a summary is in "prehistoric america," by the marquis de nadaillac, , and the latest contribution to the subject are articles in _scribner's magazine_ by e. s. curtis, and . the pueblos indians dwell for the most part at a short distance from the rio grande; the zuñi, however, one of their best known tribes, are settled far from that river, near the sources of the gila. in the pueblos country are tremendous cañons of red sandstone, and in their sides are the habitations of human beings perched on every ledge in inaccessible positions. major powell, united states geologist, expressed his amazement at seeing nothing for whole days but perpendicular cliffs everywhere riddled with human dwellings resembling the cells of a honeycomb. the apparently inaccessible heights were scaled by means of long poles with lateral teeth disposed like the rungs of a ladder, and inserted at intervals in notches let into the face of the perpendicular rock. the most curious of these dwellings, compared to which the most alpine chalet is of easy access, have ceased to be occupied, but the maqui, in north-west arizona, still inhabit villages of stone built on sandstone tables, standing isolated in the midst of a sandy ocean almost destitute of vegetation. the cause of the abandonment of the cliff dwellings has been the diminished rainfall, that rendering the land barren has sent its population elsewhere. the rivers, the very streams, are dried up, and only parched water-courses show where they once flowed. "the early inhabitants of the region under notice were wonderfully skilful in turning the result of the natural weathering of the rocks to account. to construct a cave-dwelling, the entrance to the cave or the front of the open gallery was walled up with adobes, leaving only a small opening serving for both door and window. the cliff houses take the form and dimensions of the platform or ledge from which they rise. the masonry is well laid, and it is wonderful with what skill the walls are joined to the cliff, and with what care the aspect of the neighbouring rocks has been imitated in the external architecture." [footnote: nadaillac, "prehistoric america," lond. , p. .] in asia also these rock-dwellings abound. the limestone cliffs of palestine are riddled with them. they are found also in armenia and in afghanistan. at bamian, in the latter, "the rocks are perforated in every direction. a whole people could put up in the 'twelve thousand galleries' which occupy the slopes of the valley for a distance of eight miles. isolated bluffs are pierced with so many chambers that they look like honeycombs." [footnote: reclus, "asia," iii. p. .] that troglodytes have inhabited rocks in africa has been known since the time of pliny. but it has hardly been realised to what an extent similar cliff dwellings have existed and do still exist in europe. in , in my book, "the deserts of southern france," i drew attention to rock habitations in dordogne and lot, but i had to crush all my information on this subject into a single chapter. the subject, however, is too interesting and too greatly ramified to be thus compressed. it is one, moreover, that throws sidelights on manners and modes of life in the past that cannot fail to be of interest. the description given above of cliff dwellings in oregon might be employed, without changing a word, for those in europe. to the best of my knowledge, the theme of european troglodytes has remained hitherto undealt with, though occasional mention has been made of those on the loire. it has been taken for granted that cave-dwellers belonged to a remote past in civilised europe; but they are only now being expelled in nottinghamshire and shropshire, by the interference of sanitary officers. elsewhere, the race is by no means extinct. in france more people live underground than most suppose. and they show no inclination to leave their dwellings. just one month ago from the date of writing this page, i sketched the new front that a man had erected to his paternal cave at villiers in loir et cher. the habitation was wholly subterranean, but then it consisted of one room alone. the freshly completed face was cut in freestone, with door and window, and above were sculptured the aces of hearts, spades, and diamonds, an anchor, a cogwheel and a fish. separated from this mansion was a second, divided from it by a buttress of untrimmed rock, and this other also was newly fronted, occupied by a neat and pleasant-spoken woman who was vastly proud of her cavern residence. "mais c'est tout ce qu'on peut désirer. enfin on s'y trouve très bien." contents chapter i prehistoric cave-dwellers formation of chalk--of dolomitic limestone--where did the first men live--their eden in the chalk lands--migration elsewhere--pit dwellings--civilisation stationary--troglodytes--antiquity of man--les eyzies--hôtel du paradis--the first colonists of the vézère valley-- their artistic accomplishments--painting and sculpture--rock dwellings in champagne--of a later period--civilisation does not progress uniformly--the earth--book of the revelation of the past--la laugerie basse--blandas--conduché--grotte de han--the race of troglodytes not extinct chapter ii modern troglodytes troglodytes of the etang de berre--the underground town of og, king of bashan--trôo--sanitation--ancient mode of disposing of refuse--the talking well--les roches--chateau de bandan--chapel of s. gervais--la grotte des vierges--rochambeau--le roi des halles--la roche corbon-- human refuse at ezy--saumur--are there still pagans among them?-- bourré--courtineau--the basket-makers of villaines--grioteaux--sauliac --cuzorn--brantôme--la roche beaucourt--the swabian alb--sibyllen loch-- vrena beutlers höhle--schillingsloch--schlössberg höhle--rock village in sicily--in the crimea--in egypt--in volcanic breccia--balmes de montbrun--grottoes de boissière--grottoes de jonas--the rock ceyssac-- the sandstone cave-dwellings of corrèze--their internal arrangement-- cluseaux--cave-dwellings in england--in nottinghamshire--in staffordshire--in cornwall--in scotland--the savage in man--reversion to savagery--the gubbins--a stone-cutter--daniel gumb--a gentleman of sens--toller of clun downs chapter iii souterrains prussian invasion of bohemia--adersbach and wickelsdorf labyrinths-- refuges of the israelites--gauls suffocated in caves by cæsar-- armenians by corbulo--story of julius sabinus--saracen invasion--the devastation of aquitaine by pepin--rock refuges in quercy--the northmen--persecution of the albigenses--the cave of lombrive--the english domination of guyenne--two kinds of refuges--saint macaire-- alban--refuge of château robin--exploration--methods of defence-- souterrain of fayrolle--of saint gauderic--of fauroux--of olmie-- aubeterre--refuges under castles--enormous number of souterrains in france--victor hugo's account of those in brittany--refuges resorted to in the time of the european war--those in picardy--gapennes--some comparatively modern--condition of the peasantry during the hundred years' war--tyranny of the nobles--their barbarities--refuges in ireland--in england--the dene holes--at chislehurst--at tilbury--their origin--fogous in cornwall--refuges in haddingtonshire--in egg-- slaughter of the macdonalds--refuges in the isle of rathlin--massacre by john norris--refuges in crete--christians suffocated in one by the turks--lamorciere in algeria. . . . . . chapter iv cliff refuges distinction between souterrain and cliff refuges--how these latter were reached--gazelles--peuch saint sour--story of s. sour--the roc d'aucor --exploration--how formerly reached--boundoulaou--riou ferrand--cliff refuge near brengues--les mées--fadarelles--puy labrousse--soulier-de- chasteaux--refuges in auvergne--meschers--in ariège--the albigenses-- caves in derbyshire--reynard's cave--cotton's cave--john cann's cave-- elford's cave on sheep's tor.... - chapter v cliff castles. the routiers the seigneural castle--protection sought against the foes without and against the peasant in revolt--instance of the château les eyzies-- independence of the petty nobles--condition of the country in france-- in germany--weakness of the emperor--the raubritter--italy--the nobles brought into the towns--their towers--division of the subject-- difference between the english manor-house and the foreign feudal castle--the english in france--the hundred years' war--hopeless condition of the people--the free companies--how recruited--crusade against the albigenses--barons no better than routiers--death of chivalry--routiers were rarely englishmen--had no scruples as to whom they served--disregarded treaties--the captains were gascons or french --the nobles of the south on the english side--nests in the rock-- depopulation and devastation--insolence of the companies--bigaroque-- roc de tayac--corn--roquefort--brengues--the bishop of cahors dies there--château du diable at cabrerets--défilé des anglais--peyrousse-- les roches du tailleur--trosky--the scolding women--the english not forgotten in guyenne . . . . . - chapter vi cliff castles--_continued_ the difference between feudal castles and those of the routiers-- illustration of the character of the nobles--two counts of perigord-- the nobles in auvergne--"les grands jours"--la roche saint christophe-- surprised and destroyed--reoccupied by the huguenots--final destruction--la roche gageac--its history--jean tarde--ravages of the huguenots--gluges--la roche lambert--habichstein--bürgstein--the spy-- kronmetz--covolo--puxerloch--the shadowless man--nottingham castle-- arrest of mortimer--outmost castles--la grotte de jioux--clovis crosses the vienne--le gué du loir--antoine de bourbon--calvin at saint saturnin--his cave--la roche corail--cave in which the "institute of the christian religion" was written--effects produced by this work --preparation of men's minds for reform--havoc wrought to art by the calvinists--la rochebrune--a cave-colander--necessity for outlook stations--frontier fortifications chapter vii subterranean churches basilicas and catacumbal churches--preference of the people for the latter--the cult of martyrs encouraged this--crypts--elevation of relics--church of ss. john and paul on the coelian hill--temples were originally sepulchres--basilican churches converted into mausoleums-- dedications--altars of wood changed for altars of stone--at first the bodies of martyrs were not dismembered--but dismemberment was made necessary by the transformation--the martyrium of poitiers--s. emilion --carvings--crypt--aubeterre--a huguenot stronghold--orders issued by jeanne d'albret--her extended powers--the monolithic church--menaced by ruin--rocamadour--lirac--mimet--caudon--natural caves used as churches--gurat--lanmeur--story of s. melor--dolmen chapel of the seven sleepers--another at cangas-de-ones--confolens--subterranean churches in egypt--in crete--the sacred caves in palestine--revival of cave sanctuaries by the crusaders--springs of water in crypts chapter viii rock hermitages tibetian recluses--christian hermits in syria and egypt--the essenes and therapeutæ--description by philo of the latter--buddhist and manichæean influence--difference in motive--likeness superficial-- possible necessity for the adoption of asceticism--instance of extravagant asceticism in syria--extravagances in ireland--in england --early european solitaries--the beatus höhle--grotto of s. cybard-- decadence--hermits in languedoc--in germany--a grocer hermit-- hermitage at s. maurice--the wild kirchlein--the cave of s. verena at soleure--that of magdalen at freiburg--oberstein--hermitage at brive-- la sainte beaume--sougé--villiers--montserrat--subiaco--la vernia-- warkworth--knaresborough--robin hood's stable--roche--anchor church-- royston cave--its carvings--kindly remembrance of the hermit--the hermit a loss chapter ix rock monasteries the hermits self-excommunicate--liability to create a schism--s. paul-- s. mary of egypt--s. anthony--enormous number of solitaries compels organisation into monasteries--causes inducing flight to the desert--s. athanasius at trèves--writes the "life of s. anthony"--impulse given to flight from the world in the west--s. martin--desires to imitate the lives of the fathers of the desert--at poitiers--founds ligugé--rock cells--later history and ruin--martin becomes bishop of tours--founds marmoutier--history and ruin--martin and the masqueraders--present state--baptistry--the seven sleepers--brice elected bishop--obliged to fly the see--return and penance--cave of s. leobard--abbey of brantôme --underground church--other caves--"papists' holes" at nottingham--rock monastery of meteora--der el adra--inkermann chapter x cave oracles polignac--greek oracles--charonion--cave of the nymphs--exhalations-- delos--care of trophonios--experiences of pausanius--cave at acharaca --sibylline oracles--destruction--forged oracles--oracles among the jews--story of hallbjörn--sounds issuing from caves--echo--Æolian cave of terni--purgatory of s. patrick--the knight owain--visit by sir william lisle--by a monk of eymstadt--prohibited by alexander vi.-- prohibition rescinded by pius iii.--destroyed in --revival of pilgrimages--description by gough--friar conrad--lazarus aigner-- roderic, king of the goths--sortes sacræ--condemned by the church-- nevertheless practised--instances from gregory of tours--incubation in pagan shrines--the cave of cybele--temples of isis and esculapius-- churches founded by constantino dedicated to s. michael--incubation practiced in them--instances--churches of s. cosmas and damian-- practice at caerleon--superstition hard to kill--grotto of lourdes chapter xi robbers' dens humphrey kynaston--his adventurous life--cave at ness cliff--chinamen-- david at adullam--bandit caves in palestine--lombrive--surtshellir-- feruiden's cave--gargas--la crouzafce--the haunts of grettir-- dunterton--precautions against burglary--story of k. f. masch--his capture--the leichtweishohle--adersbach retreats--babinsky--his capture chapter xii book sepulchres difference between the tombs of the israelites and those of the egyptians--the reason for this--jewish catacombs at rome--christian catacombs--puticoli--numerous catacombs--those of syracuse--those of paris--crypts became vaults for kings and nobles--desecration--that of louis xi.--the instinct of immortality--cave burials--in the petit morin--scandinavian burials--death regarded as suspended animation-- hervor at the cairn of angantyr--the cairn-breaking of gest--the barrow of gunnar--sigrun visits her husband in his cairn--the story of asmund and asvid--the same ideas in christian times--mamertinus and corcodemus--"de miraculis mortuorum"--ancestor worship--persistence of usages derived from a remote antiquity--neglect of thought of the dead --double nature of man--the spiritual world--a walking postman-- conclusion index list of illustrations cliff castle, brengues cave dwellers at duclair sauliac (_photo by_ gibma) grioteaux la rochebrune sketch plan of rock stable, commarques plan of rock holes in nottingham park drakelow aubeterre plan of the refuge of chÂteau robin the chÂteau of fayrolles cluseau de fauroux la roche gageac le peuch s. sour caves of meschers cave refuge at soulier de chasteau le dÉfilÉ des anglais, lot (_photo by_ baudel, s. cÉrÉ) chÂteau des anglais, brengues chÂteau du diable, cabrerets (exterior) chÂteau du diable, cabrerets (interior) (_photo by_ baudel, s. cÉrÉ) corn, lot (_photo by_ baudel, s. cÉrÉ) chÂteau des anglais, autoire (_photo by_ baudel, s. cÉrÉ) covolo la roche du tailleur kronmetz the puxerloch, styria habichstein, bohemia rock monastery, nottingham park rock monastery, nottingham park la roche corail la roche corail the first hall guÉ de loir les roches plan of martyrium monolithic church of s. emilion aubeterre, charente, interior op monolithic church (_photo by_ delage) rocamadour (_photo by_ baudel, s. cÉrÉ) aubeterre, charente (_photo by_ delage) subterranean church, aubeterre (_photo by_delage) dolmen chapel of the seven sleepers plan of dolmen chapel near plouaret plan of chapel of s. amadou sculpture in royston cave (_photo by_ r.h. clark, royston) sculpture in royston cave (_photo by_ r.h. clark, royston) royston cave (_photo by_ r. h. clark, royston) chateau de rignac le trou bourou rock baptistery of st. martin triumph of christ over death (_photo by_ lacroix) caves of ligugÉ ness cliff kynaston's cave cliff castles and cave dwellings of europe chapter i prehistoric cave-dwellers in a vastly remote past, and for a vastly extended period, the mighty deep rolled over the surface of a world inform and void, depositing a sediment of its used up living tenants, the microscopic cases of foraminiferæ, sponges, sea-urchins, husks, and the cast limbs of crustaceans. the descending shells of the diatoms like a subaqueous snow gradually buried the larger dejections. this went on till the sediment had attained a thickness of over one thousand feet. then the earth beneath, heaved and tossed in sleep, cast off its white featherbed, projected it on high to become the chalk formation that occupies so distinct and extended a position in the geological structure of the globe. the chalk may be traced from the north of ireland to the crimea, a distance of about , geographical miles, and, in an opposite direction, from the south of sweden to bordeaux, a distance of geographical miles. it extends as a broad belt across france, like the sash of a republican mayor. you may travel from calais to vendôme, to tours, poitiers, angoulême, to the gironde, and you are on chalk the whole way. it stretches through central europe, and is seen in north africa. from the crimea it reaches into syria, and may be traced as far as the shores of the sea of aral in central asia. the chalk is not throughout alike in texture; hard beds alternate with others that are soft--beds with flints like plum-cake, and beds without, like white spanish bread. we are accustomed in england to chalk in rolling downs, except where bitten into by the sea, but elsewhere it is riven, and presents cliffs, and these cliffs are not at all like that of shakespeare at dover, but overhang, where hard beds alternate with others that are friable. these latter are corroded by the weather, and leave the more compact projecting like the roofs of penthouses. they are furrowed horizontally, licked smooth by the wind and rain. not only so, but the chalk cliffs are riddled with caves, that are ancient water-courses. the rain falling on the surface is drunk by the thirsty soil, and it sinks till, finding where the chalk is tender, it forms a channel and flows as a subterranean rill, spouts forth on the face of the crags, till sinking still lower, it finds an exit at the bottom of the cliff, when it leaves its ancient conduit high and dry. but before the chalk was tossed aloft there had been an earlier upheaval from the depths of the ocean, that of the jurassic limestone. this was built up by coral insects working indefatigably through long ages, piling up their structures, as the sea-bottom slowly sank, straining ever higher, till at length their building was crushed together and projected on high, to form elevated plateaux, as the causses of quercy, and alpine ranges, as the dolomites of brixen. but in the uplifting of this deposit, as it was inelastic, the strain split it in every direction, and down the rifts thus formed danced the torrents from higher granitic and schistous ranges, forming the gorges of the tarn, the ardêche, the herault, the gaves, and the timée, in france. it has been a puzzle to decide which appeared first, the egg out of which the fowl was hatched, or the hen which laid the egg; and it is an equal puzzle to the anthropologist to say whether man was first brought into existence as a babe or in maturity. in both cases he would be helpless. the babe would need its mother, and the man be paralysed into incapacity through lack of experience. but without stopping to debate this question, we may conclude that naked, shivering and homeless humanity would have to be pupil to the beasts to learn where to shelter his head. where did man first appear? where was the garden of eden? indisputably on the chalk. there he found all his first demands supplied. the walls of cretaceous rock furnished him with shelter under its ledges of overhanging beds, flints out of which to fashion his tools, and nodules of pyrites wherewith to kindle a fire. providence through aeons had built up the chalk to be man's first home. incontestably, the great centres of population in the primeval ages were the chalklands, and next to them those of limestone. the chalk first, for it furnished man with flints, and the limestone next when he had learned to barter. he could have lived nowhere else, till, after the lapse of ages, he had developed invention and adaptability. besant and rice, in "ready-money mortiboy," speak of divine discontent as the motive power impelling man to progress. not till the chalk and the limestone shelters were stocked, and could hold no more, would men be driven to invent for themselves other dwellings. the first men being sent into the world without a natural coat of fur or feathers, would settle into caves or under overhanging roofs of rock, and with flint picked out of it, chipped and pointed, secure the flesh of the beast for food and its hide for clothing. having accomplished this, man would sit down complacently for long ages. indeed, there are certain branches of the human family that have progressed no further and display no ambition to advance. only when the districts of chalk and limestone were overstocked would the overflow be constrained to look elsewhere for shelter. then some daring innovators, driven from the favoured land, would construct habitations by grubbing into the soil, and covering them with a roof of turf. the ancient germans, according to tacitus, lived in underground cabins, heaped over with dung to keep them warm during the long winter. with the invention of the earthenware stove, the german bauer has been enabled to rise above the surface; but he cherishes the manure round his house, so to speak, about his feet, as affectionately as when it warmed his head. for a long time it was supposed that our british ancestors lived in pit dwellings, and whole clusters of them were recorded and mapped on the yorkshire wolds, and a british metropolis of them, caer penselcoit, was reported in somersetshire. habitations sunk deep in the rock, with only a roof above ground. but the spade has cracked these archæological theories like filberts, and has proved that the pits in the wolds were sunk after iron ore, or those in somerset were burrowings for the extraction of chert. [footnote: atkinson, "forty years in a moorland parish." lond. , p. , _et seq._ some pits are, however, not so dubious. at hurstbourne, in hants, pit habitations have been explored; others, in kent and oxfordshire, undoubtedly once dwelt in. in one of the kentish pits flakes and cores of flint were found. the chysoyster huts in cornwall and the "picts houses" in scotland were built up of stones, underground.] but the original paleolithic man did not get beyond the cavern or the rock-shelter. this latter was a retreat beneath an overhanging stratum of hard rock, screened against the weather by a curtain of skins. and why should he wish to change so long as these were available? we, from our advanced position, sitting in padded arm-chairs, before a coal fire, can see that there was room for improvement; but he could not. the rock-dwelling was commodious, dry, warm in winter and cool in summer, and it cost him no trouble to fashion it, or keep it in repair. he had not the prophetic eye to look forward to the arm-chair and the coal fire. indeed, at all periods, down to the present day, those who desire to lead the simple life, and those who have been reared in these nature-formed dwelling-places, feel no ambition to occupy stone-built houses. in north devon the cottages are reared of cob, kneaded clay, and thatched. a squire on his estate pulled down those he possessed and built in their place brick houses with slated roofs. the cottagers bitterly resented the change, their old mud-hovels were so much warmer. and in like manner the primeval man would not exchange his _abris_ for a structural dwelling unless constrained so to do. the ancients knew that the first homes of mankind were grottoes. they wrote of troglodytes in africa and of cave-dwellers in liguria. in arabia petræa, a highly civilized people converted their simple rock- dwellings into sumptuous palaces. i might fill pages with quotations to the purpose from the classic authors, but the reader would skip them all. it is not my intention to give a detailed account of the prehistoric cave-dwellers. they have been written about repeatedly. in , dr. buckland published the results of his exploration of the kirkdale cave in yorkshire in _reliquiæ diluvianæ_, and sought to establish that the remains there found pertained to the men who were swept away by noah's flood. the publication of sir charles lyall's "the geological evidences of the antiquity of man," in , was a shock to all such as clung to the traditional view that these deposits were due to a cosmic deluge, and that man was created b.c. at first the announcements proving the antiquity of man were received with orthodox incredulity, because, although the strata, in which the remains were found, are the most modern of all earth's formations, still the testimony so completely contravened traditional beliefs, that the most conclusive evidence was required for its proof. such evidence has been found, and is so strong, and so cumulative in character as to be now generally accepted as conclusive. evidence substantiating the thesis of lyall had been accumulating, and the researches of lartet and christy in the vézère valley, published in - , as _reliquiæ aquitanicæ_, conclusively proved that man in perigord had been a naked savage, contemporary with the mammoth, the reindeer and the cave-bear, that he had not learned to domesticate animals, to sow fields, to make pots, and that he was entirely ignorant of the use of the metals. since then, in the valley of the vézère, les eyzies in the department of dordogne, has become a classic spot. i have already described it in another work, [footnote: "the deserts of southern france." lond., methuen, .] but i must here say a few more words concerning it. on reaching the valley of the vézère by the train from perigueux, one is swung down from the plateau into a trough between steep scarps of chalk-rock that rise from to feet above the placid river. these scarps have been ploughed by the weather in long horizontal furrows, so that they lean over as though desirous of contemplating their dirty faces in the limpid water. out of their clefts spring evergreen oaks, juniper, box and sloe-bushes. moss and lichen stain the white walls that are streaked by black tricklings from above, and are accordingly not beautiful--their faces are like that of a pale, dirty, and weeping child with a cold in its head, who does not use a pocket-handkerchief. jackdaws haunt the upper ledges and smaller caves that gape on all sides chattering like boys escaped from school, and anon a raven starts forth and hoarsely calls for silence. at the foot of the stooping crags, bowing to each other across the stream, lie masses that have broken from above, and atop and behind these is to be seen a string of cottages built into the rock, taking advantage of the overarching stratum of hard chalk; and cutting into it are russet, tiled roofs, where the cottagers have sought to expand beyond the natural shelter: they are in an intermediate position. just as i have seen a caddis-worm emancipating itself from its cage, half in as a worm, half out as a fly. nature would seem to have specially favoured this little nook of france, which must have been the eden of primeval man on gallic soil. there he found ready-made habitations, a river abounding in fish, a forest teeming with game; constrained periodically to descend from the waterless plateaux, at such points as favoured a descent, to slake their thirst at the stream, and there was the nude hunter lurking in the scrub or behind a stone, with bow or spear awaiting his prey--his dinner and his jacket. what beasts did he slay? the wild horse, with huge head, was driven by him over the edge of the precipice, and when it fell with broken limbs or spine, was cut up with flint knives and greedily devoured. the reindeer was also hunted, and the cumbersome mammoth enabled a whole tribe to gorge itself. the grottoes perforating the cliff, like bubbles in gruyère cheese, have been occupied consecutively to the present day. opposite to les eyzies, hanging like a net or skein of black thread to the face of the precipice, is a hotel, part gallery, part cave--l'auberge du paradis; and a notice in large capitals invites the visitor to a "course aux canards." when i was last there, reaching the tavern by a ladder erected in a grotto, i learned that an american couple on their honeymoon had recently slept in the guest-chamber scooped out of the living rock. the kitchen itself is a cavern, and in it are shelves, staged against the rock, offering chartreuse, green and yellow, benedictine, and crème de menthe. the proprietor also possesses a gramophone, and its strident notes we may well suppose imitate the tones of the first inhabitants of this den. of the roc de tayac, in and against which this paradisaical hotel is plastered, i shall have more to say in another chapter. the first men who settled in this favoured valley under shelters open to the blaze of the sun, in a soft and pleasant climate, where the air when not in proximity to men, is scented with mint, marjoram and juniper, where with little trouble a salmon might be harpooned, must have multiplied enormously--for every overhanging rock, every cavern, even every fallen block of stone, has been utilised as a habitation. where a block has fallen, the prehistoric men scratched the earth away from beneath it, and couched in the trench. the ground by the river when turned up is black with the charcoal from their fires. a very little research will reward the visitor with a pocketful of flint knives and scrapers. and this is what is found not only on the main artery, but on all the lateral veins of water--wherever the cretaceous rocks project and invite to take shelter under them. since the researches of lartet and christy, it has been known as an established fact that these savages were indued with rare artistic skill. their delineations with a flint point on ivory and bone, of the mammoth, reindeer, and horse, are so masterly that these men stand forth as the spiritual ancestors of landseer and rosa bonheur. and what is also remarkable is that the race which succeeded, that which discovered the use of metal, was devoid of the artistic sense, and their attempts at delineation are like the scribbling of an infant. of late years fresh discoveries have been made, revealing the fact that the paleolithic men were able to paint as well as to engrave. in les combarelles and at font-de-gaume, far in the depths, where no light reaches, the walls have been found turned into a veritable picture- gallery. in the latter are twenty-four paintings; in the former forty- two. doctor capitan and the abbé breuil were the first to discover the paintings in les combarelles. in an account read before the academy of sciences, they say: "most frequently, the animals whose contours are indicated by a black outline, have all the surface thus circumscribed, entirely covered with red ochre. in some cases certain parts, such as the head of the urochs, seems to have been painted over with black and red together, so as to produce a brown tint. in other cases the head of the beast is black, and the rest of the body brown. this is veritable fresco painting, and the colour was usually applied after the outline had been graven in the stone. at other times some shading is added by hatching supplied after the outline had been drawn. finally, the contours are occasionally thrown into prominence by scraping away the surface of the rock around, so as to give to the figures the appearance of being in low relief." these wall paintings are by no means unique. they have been found as well at pair-sur-pair in gironde, and in the grotto of altamira at santillana del mar, in the north of spain. still more recently an additional revelation as to the artistic skill of primeval man has been made; in a cave hitherto unexplored has been discovered actual sculpture with rounded forms, of extinct beasts. these discoveries appeared incredible, first, because it was not considered possible that paintings of such a vastly remote antiquity could remain fresh and distinguishable, and secondly, because it was not thought that paintings and sculpture could be executed in the depths of a rayless cavern, and artificial light have left no traces in a deposit of soot on the roof. but it must be remembered that these subterranean passages have been sealed up from time immemorial, and subjected to no invasion by man or beast, or to any change of air or temperature. and secondly, that the artists obtained light from melted fat in stone bowls on the floor, in which was a wick of pith; and such lamps would hardly discolour ceiling or walls. of the genuineness of these paintings and sculptures there can be no question, from the fact that some are partly glazed over and some half obliterated by stalagmitic deposits. another discovery made in the mas d'azil in arriege, is of painted pebbles and fan-shells that had served as paint-pots. [footnote: piette (e.), _les galets colorrés du mas d'azil._ paris, .] the pebbles had been decorated with spots, stripes, zig-zags, crosses, and various rude figures; and these were associated with paleolithic tools. in the chalk of champagne, where there are no cliffs, whole villages of underground habitations have been discovered, but none of these go back to the earliest age of all; they belong to various epochs; but the first to excavate them was the neolithic man, he who raised the rude stone monuments elsewhere. he had learned to domesticate the ox and the sheep, had made of the dog the friend of man. his wife span and he delved; he dug the clay, and she formed it with her fingers into vessels, on which to this day her finger-prints may be found. these caves are hollowed out in a thick bed of cretaceous rock. the habitations are divided into two unequal parts by a wall cut in the living chalk. to penetrate into the innermost portion of the cave, one has to descend by steps cut in the stone, and these steps bear indications of long usage. the entrance is hewn out of a massive screen of rock, left for the purpose, and on each side of the doorway the edges show the rebate which served to receive a wooden door-frame. two small holes on the right and left were used for fixing bars across to hold the door fast. a good many of these caves are provided with a ventilating shaft, and some skilful contrivances were had recourse to for keeping out water. inside are shelves, recesses cut in the chalk, for lamps, and to serve as cupboards. but probably these are due to later occupants. the baron de baye, who explored these caves, picked up worked flints, showing that their primitive occupants had been men of the prehistoric age, and other caves associated with them that were sepulchral were indisputably of the neolithic age. [footnote: de baye (j.), _l'archéologie préhistorique._ paris, .] mankind progresses not smoothly, as by a sliding carpet ascent, but by rugged steps broken by gaps. he halts long on one stage before taking the next. often he remains stationary, unable to form resolution to step forward; sometimes even has turned round and retrograded. the stream of civilisation flows on like a river, it is rapid in mid- current, slow at the sides, and has its backwaters. at best, civilisation advances by spirals. the native of new guinea still employs stone tools; whilst an englishman can get a nest of matches for twopence, an indian laboriously kindles a fire with a couple of sticks. the prehistoric hunter of solutré devoured the horse. in the time of horace so did the concanni of spain. in the reign of hakon, athelstan's foster son, horseflesh formed the sacrificial meal of the norseman. at the present day, as mr. lloyd george assures us, the haggard, ill-paid german mechanic breaks his long fast on black bread with rare meals of horseflesh. at la laugerie basse, on the right bank of the vézère, is a vast accumulation of fallen rocks, encumbering the ground for at least thirty-five feet in height under the overhanging cornice. the fallen matter consists of the disintegration of the projecting lip. against the cliff, under the shelter of the rock, as already said, are cottages with lean-to roofs, internally with the back and with at least half the ceiling composed of the rock. in one of these lartet and christy began to sink a pit, beside the owner's bed, and the work was carried on to conclusion by the late dr. massenat. the well was driven down through successive stages of man; deposits from the sous dropped and trampled into the earth floor by the children of the cottagers till the virgin soil was reached; and there, lying on his side, with his hands to his head for protection, and with a block of fallen rock crushing his thigh, lay the first prehistoric occupant of this shelter. on the causse de larzac is navacelles, in gard; you walk over the arid plain with nothing in sight; and all at once are brought to a standstill. you find yourself at the edge of a crater feet deep, the sides in most places precipitous, and the bottom is reached only by a zig-zag path. in the face of one of the cliffs is the grotto of blandas, that has been occupied since remote ages. a methodical exploration has revealed a spearhead of silex, a bronze axe, bone bracelets, a coin of the hundred years' war, and lastly a little pin- cushion of cloth in the shape of a heart, ornamented with metal crosses, the relic of some refugee in the reign of terror, hiding to escape the guillotine. at conduché, where the célé slides into the lot, high up in the yellow and grey limestone precipice is a cave, now accessible only by a ladder. hither ascended a _cantonnier_ when the new road was made up the valley, and here he found chipped flints of primeval man, a polished celt, a scrap of samian ware, and in a niche at the side sealed up with stalactite, a tiny earthenware pitcher - / inches high, a leaden spindle-whorl, some shells, and a toy sheep-bell. here a little shepherdess during the stormy times, when the routiers ravaged the country, had her refuge while she watched her flock of goats, and here made her doll's house. the stalactite cavern of han in the ardennes is visited yearly by crowds. you may see highly coloured illustrations of its interior illumined by bengal lights in all the belgian and many of the french railway stations. what is now a peepshow was in past ages a habitation and a home. in it the soil in successive layers has revealed objects belonging to successive periods in the history of mankind. its floor has been in fact a book of the revelation of the past, whose seals have been opened, and it has disclosed page by page the history of humanity, from the present, read backwards to the beginning. at the bottom of all the deposits were discovered the remains of the very earliest inhabitants, with their hearths about which they sat in nudity and split bones to extract the marrow, trimmed flints, worked horn, necklaces of pierced wolf and bears' teeth; then potsherds formed by hand long before the invention of the wheel; higher up were the arms and utensils of the bronze age, and the weights of nets. above these came the remains of the iron age and wheel-turned crocks. a still higher stratum surrendered a weight of a scale stamped with an effigy of the crusading king, s. louis ( - ), and finally francs bearing the profile of a king, the reverse in every moral characteristic of louis the saint--that of leopold of congo notoriety. chapter ii modern troglodytes herodotus, speaking of the ligurians, says that they spent the night in the open air, rarely in huts, but that they usually inhabited caverns. every traveller who goes to the riviera, the old ligurian shore, knows, but knows only by a passing glance, the etang de berre, that inland sea, blue as a sapphire, waveless, girt about by white hills, and perhaps he wonders that toulon should have been selected as a naval port, when there was this one, deeper, and excavated by nature to serve as a harbour. the rocks of s. chamas that look down on this peaceful sheet of water, rarely traversed by a sail, are riddled with caves, still inhabited, as they were when herodotus wrote years before the christian era. the following account of an underground town in palestine is from the pen of consul wetzstein, and describes one in the hauran. "i visited old edrei--the subterranean labyrinthic residence of king og--on the east side of the zanite hills. two sons of the sheikh of the village-- one fourteen and the other sixteen years of age--accompanied me. we took with us a box of matches and two candles. after we had gone down the slope for some time, we came to a dozen rooms which, at present, are used as goat stalls and storerooms for straw. the passage became gradually smaller, until at last we were compelled to lie down flat and creep along. this extremely difficult and uncomfortable progress lasted for about eight minutes, when we were obliged to jump down a steep well, several feet in depth. here i noticed that the younger of my two attendants had remained behind, being afraid to follow us; but probably it was more from fear of the unknown european than of the dark and winding passages before us. "we now found ourselves in a broad street, which had dwellings on both sides, whose height and width left nothing to be desired. the temperature was mild, the air free from unpleasant odours, and i felt not the smallest difficulty in breathing. further along there were several cross-streets, and my guide called my attention to a hole in the ceiling for air, like three others which i afterwards saw, now closed from above. soon after we came to a market-place, where, for a long distance, on both sides of the pretty broad street, were numerous shops in the walls, exactly in the style of the shops seen in syrian cities. after a while we turned into a side street, where a great hall, whose roof was supported by four pillars, attracted my attention. the roof, or ceiling, was formed of a single slab of jasper, perfectly smooth and of immense size, in which i was unable to perceive the slightest crack. "the rooms, for the most part, had no supports. the doors were often made of a single square stone, and here and there i also noticed fallen columns. after we had passed several cross-alleys or streets, and before we had reached the middle of the subterranean city, my attendant's light went out. as he was lighting again by mine, it occurred to me that possibly both our lights might be extinguished, and i asked the boy if he had any matches. 'no,' he replied, 'my brother has them.' 'could you find your way back if the lights were put out?' 'impossible,' he replied. for a moment i began to be alarmed at this underworld, and urged an immediate return. without much difficulty we got back to the marketplace and from hence the youngster knew the way well enough. thus, after a sojourn of more than an hour and a half in this labyrinth, i again greeted the light of day." [footnote: _reisebericht in hauran_, ii., pp. - .] i have quoted this somewhat lengthy account because, as we shall see in the sequel, the subterranean dwellings and above all refuges in europe, bear to this town of king og of bashan a marked resemblance. within four hours of paris by chartres and sargé is the town of montoire with a clean inn, le cheval rouge, and next station down the loir is trôo. the loir, male, is the river, not la loire of the feminine gender. le loir is a river that rises in the north-east, traverses the fertile upland plain of beauce, and falls into and is lost in la loire at angers. it is a river rarely visited by english tourists, but it does not deserve to be overlooked. it has cut for itself a furrow in the chalk tufa, and the hospitable cliffs on each side offer a home to any vagrant who cares to scratch for himself a hole in the friable face, wherein to shelter his head. trôo bears a certain resemblance to the city of og. originally it was all underground, but in process of time it effervesced, bubbled out of its holes, and is now but half troglodyte. the heights that form the northern declivity of the valley of the loir come to an abrupt end here, and have been sawn through by a small stream creating a natural fosse, isolating the hill of trôo that is attached to the plateau only on the north. the hill rises steeply from the river to a crest occupied by a romanesque church recently scoured to the whiteness of flour, and beside it is a mighty tumulus, planted with trees. formerly on this same height stood a castle, but this has been so completely broken down that nothing remains of it but a few substructures and its well. trôo was at one time a walled town, and as it was the key to the valley of the loir, was hotly contested between the english and french during three hundred years, and later, between catholics and huguenots. the place was besieged by mercader, the captain under richard coeur-de lion, who had flayed alive the slayer of his master under the walls of caylus, although richard had promised him immunity. here mercader met his death, and was buried under a mound that is still shown. but what makes trôo especially interesting is that the whole height is like a sponge, perforated with passages giving access to halls, some of which are circular, and into store-chambers; and most of the houses are wholly or in part underground. the caves that are inhabited are staged one above another, some reached by stairs that are little better than ladders, and the subterranean passages leading from them form a labyrinth within the bowels of the hill, and run in superposed storeys. in one that i entered was an oven, with a well at its side. a little further, in a large hall, a circular hole in the floor unfenced gave access by rope or ladder to a lower range of galleries. any one exploring by the feeble light of a single candle, without a guide, might be precipitated down this abyss without knowing that there was a gaping opening before him. a long ascending passage, with niches in the sides for lamps, leads to where the fibres of the roots of the trees on the mound above have penetrated and are hanging down. it is said that the gallery led on to the castle, but since this latter has been ruined it has been blocked. in the holes whence flints have dropped spiders harbour, that feed on ghostly moths which flit in the pitch darkness, and when caught between the fingers resolve themselves into a trace of silver dust. but on what did these spectral moths feed? a pallid boy of sixteen who guided me about the town told me that he had been born in a cave; that he slept in one every night, and worked underground all day. his large brown eyes could see objects in the dark where all was of inky blackness to me. it is astonishing with what unconcern mites of children romp and ramble through these corridors, where there is danger not only on account of pitfalls, but also of the roof falling in. where i went, guided by a child of ten, every now and then i was warned-- "prenez garde, c'est écroulé." the town--it was a town once, but now contains inhabitants only--is partly built at the foot of the bluff, but very few houses are without excavated chambers, store-places or stables. the café looks ordinary enough, but enter, and you find yourself in a dungeon. there is but one street--la grande rue--and that has space and landscape on one side, and houses built against and into the rock on the other. a notice at the entrance to the street warns that no heavy traffic, not much above the weight of a perambulator, is permitted to pass along it, for the roadway runs over the tops of houses. a waggon might crash through into the chamber of a bedridden beldame, and a motor be precipitated downwards to salt the soup of a wife stirring it for her husband's supper. at trôo chimneys bristle everywhere, making the hill resemble a pin-cushion or a piece of larded veal. there are in the depth of the hill wells, and to these mothers fearlessly despatch their children to fill a pitcher, as often as not without a light. many of the cave-dwellings have but a ledge a few feet wide, and perhaps only a dozen or twenty feet long before their doors, and at the extreme edge one may see the children standing, unaffected with giddiness, like a row of swallows, contemplating the visitor. i cannot say how it may be with the lower houses, but those high up are pronouncedly odoriferous; for the inhabitants have no means of disposing of their garbage save by exposing it on their little shelves to be dried up by the sun, or washed down by the rain over the windows and doors of their neighbours beneath. i wonder how a sanitary officer would tackle the problem of sweetening trôo. if he attempted to envelop it in a cobweb of socketed drainpipes he would get into a tangle with the chimneys; to carry them underground would not be feasible, as he would have to run them through kitchens, bedrooms and salles-à-manger. but even did he make this cobweb, he could not flush his pipes, as the water is at the bottom of the hill. the ancient gauls and britons had a practical and ingenious method of disposing of their refuse. they dug shafts in the chalk, shaped like bottles, and all the rubbish they desired to get rid of was consigned to these, till they were full, when they planted a tree on the top and opened another. great numbers of these _puticuli_ have been found in france. they have been likewise unearthed on the chalk downs of england. they were used as well for the graves of slaves. now the good citizens of trôo cannot employ the pitfalls in their caves for this purpose, or the wells would be contaminated. as it is, those wells are supplied from the rain-water falling on the hill of trôo and filtering down, ingeniously avoiding the passages and halls. there are, however, some dripping caverns incrusted with stalagmitic deposit. but conceive of the sponge of trôo acting as a filter through two thousand years and never renovated. not the most impressive teetotal orator would make me a water drinker were i a citizen of trôo. at the summit of the hill is _le puit qui parle_, the talking well. it is feet deep, and is shaped like a bottle. if any one speaks near the mouth, it soon after repeats in an extraordinary articulate manner the last two syllables uttered, a veritable "jocosa imago." drop in a pin, and after eight seconds its click is heard as it touches the water. a stone produces a veritable detonation. there is another troglodyte town, also formerly walled, les roches, above montoire. it is occupied by six hundred souls, and most of the houses are dug out of the rock. there is hardly space for the road to run between the loir and the crags, and the church has to curl itself like a dog going to sleep to fit the area allowed it. this rock forms perpendicular bluffs of chalk tufa, and masses of fallen stone lie at their feet. some rocks overhang, and the whole of this cliff and the fallen blocks have been drilled with openings and converted into habitations for man and for beast. doors and windows have been cut in the stone, which has been hollowed out as maggots clear out the kernel of a nut. rooms, kitchens, cellars, stables have been thus contrived. the chimneys run up the rocks, and through them; and on the plateau above open as wells, but are surrounded by a breastwork of bricks to protect them against the rain, which might form a rill that would decant playfully down the opening in a waterfall. in winter, when all hearths are lighted, the smoke issuing from all these little structures has the effect of a series of steaming saucepans. a little way up the river outside the walls is the château de boydan, half scooped out of the cliff, with pretty sixteenth century mullioned and transomed windows. at right angles to the rock a wing was thrown out to contain the state apartments with their fireplaces and chimneys. but unfortunately it was tacking on of new cloth to the old garment, and the face of the rock slid down carrying with it the side walls and windows, and has left the gable containing the handsome stone chimney- pieces and the chimneys as an isolated fragment. just beyond, excavated in the bluff, is the chapel of s. gervais, consisting of two portions, an outer and an inner chamber. but the cliff face had been cut for the windows too thin, and the whole slid away at the same time probably as the disaster happened to the castle, and has exposed the interior of this monolithic church. there are remains of frescoes on the wall painted with considerable spirit; a king on horseback blowing a horn, and behind him a huntsman armed with a boar-spear. benches cut in the rock surround the sanctuary. externally a niche contains a rude image of the saint. still nearer to montoire, on the left bank of the loir is lavardin; high up on the side of the hill, completely screened by a dense wood, is a hamlet of troglodytes. the principal excavation served originally as a hermitage, and is called la grotte des vierges. there is a range of rock-dwellings in connection with it, some inhabited and some abandoned. the grotte des vierges is entered by steps descending into the principal chamber that is lighted by a window and is furnished with a fireplace. at one of the angles is a circular pit, six feet deep, with a groove at top for the reception of a cover. this was a silo for grain. from the first chamber entrance is obtained to a second much larger, that has in it a fireplace as well, and a staircase leading into a little oratory in which is an altar. the same staircase communicates with a lower chamber, probably intended as a cellar, for though the hermit might be frugal in meat there was no ban on the drink. the rock-dwelling nearest to the grotte des vierges on the left hand was of considerable proportions and pretence. it consisted of large halls, and was in several stages. the windows are broken away, the floors are gone, and it is reduced to a wreck. below this series of cave-dwellings is the fountain of anduée of crystal water, supposed to be endowed with miraculous properties. the whole hill is moreover pierced with galleries and store-chambers, and served as a refuge in time of war, in which the villagers of lavardin concealed their goods. the noble ruin of the castle shows that it was once of great majesty. it was battered down by the huguenots, who for the purpose dragged a cannon to the top of the church tower. nearer to vendôme is the château of rochambeau. the present mansion that has replaced the ancient castle is a very insignificant and tasteless structure. all the interest it possesses consists in its dependencies that are rock-hewn. the bass-court is reached through a long and lofty gallery bored athwart the rock, and issuing from it we find ourselves in a sort of open well, probably originally natural but appropriated and adapted by man to his needs. this vast depression, the walls of which are seventy-five feet high, is circular, and measures eighty feet in diameter. round it are cellars and chambers for domestic purposes. others are accessible from the gallery that leads to the court. one of them, the cave-noire, possesses a chimney bored upwards through the rock to the level of the surface. another peculiarity of this cavern is that along one side, throughout its length, feet, are rings cut in the rock showing tokens of having been fretted by usage. they are at the height of four feet above the soil, and are on an average four feet ten inches apart. a second range is three feet or four feet higher up. in an adjoining cavern are similar ranges of rings. a third is cut almost at the level of the soil. precisely the same arrangement is to be found at varennes hard by in artificial caves still employed as stables, and some as dwellings for families. in the park is shown the cave in which the duke of beaufort, the roi des halles, was concealed when he escaped from the prison of vincennes. françois de vendôme, duke of beaufort, was a grandson of henri quatre, a man of inordinate conceit and of very limited intelligence. during the regency that began in , he obtained the confidence of anne of austria, but his vanity rendered him insupportable, and he went out of his way to insult the regent, so that she sent him to vincennes. voltaire passes a severe judgment on him. he says of the duke: "he was the idol of the people, and the instrument employed by able men for stirring them up into revolt; he was the object of the raillery of the court, and of the fronde as well. he was always spoken of as the roi des halles, the market-king." one day he asked the president bellevue whether he did not think that he--beaufort--would change the face of affairs if he boxed the ears of the duke of elbeuf. "i do not think such an act would change anything but the face of the duke of elbeuf," gravely replied the magistrate. there are in the quartier s. lubin at vendôme chambers still occupied in the face of the cliff, high up and reached by structural galleries. at lisle, on the river above vendôme, are many caves, one of which was the hospital or maladerie. above tours and marmoutier, on the road to vouvray, is la roche corbon. the cliff is pierced with windows and doors, and niches for a pigeonry. this, till comparatively recently, was a truly troglodyte village. but well-to-do inhabitants of tours have taken a fancy to the site and have reared pretentious villas that mask the face of the cliff, and with the advent of these rich people the humble cave-dwellers have "flitted." one singular feature remains, however, unspoiled. a mass of the cretaceous tufa has slipped bodily down to the foot of the crag, against which it leans in an inclined position. this was eviscerated and converted into two cottages, but the cottagers have been ejected, and it is now a villa residence. an acquaintance at tours has rented it for his family as a summer seat. some fifty or sixty years ago la roche corbon was "a village sculptured up the broken face of the rocks, with considerable skill, and what with creeping vines, snatches of hanging gardens, an attempt here and there at a division of tenements, by way of slight partitions cut from the surface, wreaths of blue smoke issuing out of apertures and curling up the front, and the old feudal tower, called lanterne de la roche corbon, crowning the summit, the superincumbent pinnacle of excavated rock on which it stands looking as if it were ready to fall and crush the whole population beneath, this lithographed village has altogether a curiously picturesque look." but at beaumont-la-ronce, north of tours, may be seen a whole street of cave habitations still occupied, wreathed with vines and traveller's joy. in the department of maine et loire, and in a portion of vienne, whole villages are underground. there is often very valuable vineyard land that has to be walled round and every portion economised. what is done is this: the owner digs a quarry in the surface; this forms a sort of pit accessible on one side, the stone taken from this being employed to fence round his property. then, for his own dwelling, he cuts out chambers in the rock under his vineyard, looking through windows and a door into the quarry hole. for a chimney he bores upwards, and then builds round the opening a square block of masonry, out of which the smoke escapes. a whole village, or rather hamlet, may therefore consist of--as far as one can see--nothing but a series of chimneys standing on the ground among the vines. those who desire to discover the inhabitants must descend into the quarries to these rabbit warrens. in some villages the people live half above ground and half below. at st. leger, near loudun, is a fine mediaeval castle, with a fosse round it cut out of the rock: and this fosse is alive with people who have grubbed out houses for themselves in the rock through which the moat (which is dry) has been excavated. a very singular settlement is that of ezy in the valley of the eure, at the extreme limit of the department of that name. about a kilometre from the village, along the side of the railway, are numerous subterranean habitations in three storeys, with platforms before them which are horizontal. these were the dwellings of the owners of the vines which at one time covered the hill overhead. but these vineyards failed, and the dwellings were abandoned. however, after their abandonment, it was customary at times for the villagers to resort to them for drinking and dancing bouts. this tradition continues still in force, and on easter tuesday these cave dwellings are visited, and there is merrymaking in them. between the caves at one time some little taverns had been erected, but these also fell into ruin some forty or fifty years ago. since then a range of these caverns has become the refuge of a special population of social and moral outcasts. there they live in the utmost misery. the population consists of about eighty persons, male and female and children. the history of the adults will hardly bear looking into. none of these people have any fixed occupation, and it is difficult to discover how they subsist. in fact, the life of every one of them is a problem. one might have supposed that they maintained a precarious existence by thieving or by begging, as they are far below the ordinary tramp; for with the exception of perhaps two or three of them, these cave-dwellers possess absolutely nothing, and know no trade whatever. they sleep on dry leaves kept together by four pieces of wood, and their sole covering consists of scraps of packing cloth. sometimes they have not even the framework for their beds, which they manufacture for the most part out of old broken chairs discarded from the churches. a visitor says: "in one of the caverns i entered there was but one of these squalid and rude beds to accommodate five persons, of whom one was a girl of seventeen, and two were boys of fourteen and fifteen. their kitchen battery consists exclusively of old metal cases of preserved fruit or meats that they have picked up from the ashpits. the majority, but by no means all, have got hold, somehow, of some old stoves or the scraps of a stove that they have put together as best they could. they have a well in common at the bottom of the hill, whence they draw water in such utensils as they possess, and which they let down into the water on a wooden crook. every one has his crook as his own property, and preserves it near him in the cavern. the majority of these underground people have no clothes to speak of. girls of fifteen and big boys go about absolutely without any linen. the rest--perhaps three or four--have only a few linen rags upon them. in the stifling atmosphere of these cave-dwellings it is by no means rare to see big children almost, if not absolutely, naked. i saw a great girl with a wild shock of uncombed hair, wearing nothing but a very scanty shift. "these cave-dwellers live with utter improvidence, although deprived of sufficient food. three or four couples there have some four or five children to each. "these families have for the most part formed in the cave-dwellings. a young mother whom i saw there with four children, the only one dressed with an approach to decency, when interrogated by me told me that she had been brought there by her mother at the age of eight. that was twenty-four years ago. she was fair, with tawny hair, and of the normandy type. she had been born in a village of the neighbourhood, and her mother took refuge in the caverns, apparently in consequence of the loss of her husband. "i heard of an individual who had been on the parish on account of his incurable laziness, till the mayor losing all patience with him, had him transported to these cave-dwellings and left there. there he settled down, picked up a wife, and had a family. "these people live quite outside the law, and are quit of all taxes and obligations. as to their marriages they are preceded and followed by no formalities. no attempt is made on the part of the authorities to get the children to school. one gentleman resident in the neighbourhood, a m. frederic passy, did take pains to ameliorate their condition. he collected the children and laboured to infuse into their hearts and heads some sort of moral principle. but his efforts were ineffectual, and left not a trace behind. they recollect him and his son well enough, but confuse the one with the other. and two of those who were under instruction for a while, when i questioned them about it, allowed that they had submitted to be bored by them for the sake of profiting by their charity. "i interrogated an old but still robust woman, who had lived in the caverns for three years. she had been consigned to them by her own children, who had sought by this means to rid themselves of the responsibility of maintaining her. "the elements of this population belong accordingly to all sorts. i noticed only one woman of an olive tint and with very black hair, who may have come from a distance. but i was told she was a recent accession to the colony, and i might be sure of this, as her clothing was still fairly sound and clean. as she is still young and can work, her case is curious; one wonders what can have induced her to go there. "i saw there also a couple without children; the man had the slouch and hang-dog look of an habitual criminal. "i may give an instance which will show the degradation to which this population has fallen. an old beggar i visited, who has lived in a cavern belonging to his brother for forty-seven years, and who has had a wife, allowed a billiard ball to be rammed into his mouth for two sous (a penny) by some young fellows who were making sport of him. he was nearly killed by it, for they had the greatest difficulty in extracting the billiard ball." [footnote: zaborowski, "aux caves d'ezy," in _revue monsuelle de l'école d'anthropologie_, paris, , i. p. , _et seq_.] at duclair also, on the seine, are rock dwellings precisely like those on the loire, and still inhabited. along the banks of the loire from tours to saumur are numerous cave habitations still in occupation. bell, in his "wayside pictures," says of those at saumur: "close to the town are residences, literally sculptured in the face of the naked rock. they are cut in the stone, which is the tufa, or soft gravel stone, and easily admits of any workmanship demanded by taste or necessity. there is no little care displayed in the formation of these strange habitations, some of which have scraps of gardens or miniature terraces before them; hanging from the doorways are green creeping things, with other graceful adjuncts, which help to give a touch of beauty to their aspect. in some cases, where the shelving of the rock will admit of it, there are chimneys, in nearly all windows; and it not unfrequently happens, especially higher up the road near tours, where art has condescended to embellish the façades still more elaborately, that these house-caves present an appearance of elegance which is almost impossible to reconcile with the absolute penury of their inhabitants. the interiors, too, although generally speaking naked enough, are sometimes tolerably well furnished, having an air of comfort in them which, certainly, no one could dream of discovering in such places. "these habitations are, of course, held only by the poor and outcast, yet, in spite of circumstances, they live merrily from hand to mouth how they can, and by means, perhaps, not always of the most legitimate description. i have a strong suspicion that the denizens of these rocks are not a whit better than they should be; that their intimate neighbourhood is not the safest promenade after dark: and that, being regarded and treated as pariahs, they are born and baptized in the resentments which are contingent upon such a condition of existence. you might as well attempt to chase an eagle to his eyrie among the clouds, as to make your way to some of these perilous chambers, which are cut in the blank face of the rock, and can be reached only by a sinuous track which requires the fibres of a goat to clamber. there are often long lines of these sculptured houses piled in successive tiers above each other; sometimes with a view to architectural regularity, but in almost all cases they are equally hazardous to the unpractised foot of a stranger. "stroll down the spacious quay of saumur in the dusk of the evening, when the flickering tapers of the temperate town are going out one by one. roars of merriment greet you as you approach the cavernous city of the suburb. there the entertainments of the inhabitants are only about to begin. you see moving lights in the distance twinkling along the grey surface of the rock, and flitting amongst the trees that lie between its base and the margin of the river. some bacchanalian orgie is going forward." [footnote: bell (r.), "wayside pictures," lond. , pp. - .] [illustration: cave dwellers at duclair. these are typical of countless others on the seine, the loir, the loire, and its tributaries, as also on the dronne and dordogne.] there was a curious statement made in a work by e. bosc and l. bonnemère in , [footnote: _hist. des gaulois sous vercingetorix_. paris, .] reproduced by m. louis bousrez in , [footnote: _les monu- ments mégalithiques de la touraine_. tours, .] which, if true, would show that a lingering paganism is to be found among these people. it is to this effect: "what is unknown to most is that at the present day there exist adepts of the worship (of the celts) as practised before the roman invasion, with the sole exception of human sacrifices, which they have been forcibly obliged to renounce. they are to be found on the two banks of the loire, on the confines of the departments of allier and saone-et-loire, where they are still tolerably numerous, especially in the latter department. they are designated in the country as _les blancs_, because that in their ceremonies they cover their heads with a white hood, and their priests are vested like the druids in a long robe of the same colour. "they surround their proceedings with profound mystery; their gatherings take place at night in the heart of large forests, about an old oak, and as they are dispersed through the country over a great extent of land, they have to start for the assembly from different points at close of day so as to be able to reach home again before daybreak. they have four meetings in the year, but one, the most solemn, is held near the town of la clayette under the presidence of the high priest. those who come from the greatest distance do not reach their homes till the second night, and their absence during the intervening day alone reveals to the neighbours that they have attended an assembly of the whites. their priests are known, and are vulgarly designated as the bishops or archbishops of the whites; they are actually druids and archdruids.... we have been able to verify these interesting facts brought to our notice by m. parent, and our personal investigations into the matter enable us to affirm the exactitude of what has been advanced." if there be any truth in this strange story, we are much more disposed to consider the whites as relics of a manichæan or albigensian sect than as a survival of druidism. more probable still is it that they are or were a political confederation. but i suspect that the account is due to a heated imagination. at bourré (loir et cher) are extensive quarries in the face of the hill. here the chalk is hard and of beautiful texture. the stone has been derived hence for the erection of several of the castles in the touraine, as also for buildings in the towns of tours, blois, montrichard, &c. most of the habitations of the villagers, who are nearly all quarrymen, are excavated in the rock, occupy old disused workings, or have been specially dug out to suit the convenience and dispositions of the occupants. in some of these old underground quarries, that are not open to the light of day, dances and revelries take place, when they are brilliantly illuminated. at sainte maure, on the road from tours to chatelherault, in a deep cleft of the _cande_ that is covered with the _falun_, an extensive deposit of marine and freshwater shells, marking the beach of an old estuary of the sea, is the village of courtineau, wholly made up of troglodyte habita- tions, and with its chapel also excavated in the rock. [illustration: sauliac. a village in the valley of the célé lot, built partly into the rocks, with chambers excavated out of the cliff.] at villaines (indre et loire) the cliffs are pierced with caves that are inhabited by basket-makers, and the watercourses below are planted with willow, or else have cut osiers lying in them soaking to preserve their suppleness. in the caves, on the roads, in every house, one sees little else but baskets in process of making or cut osiers lying handy for use. the women split and peel the green rods, men and children with nimble fingers plait the white canes. all the basket-makers are themselves plaited into one co-operative association. from time immemorial villaines had made baskets, the osier of the valley being of excellent quality. but the products could not be disposed of satisfactorily; they were bought by regraders, who beat down the prices of the wares, and the workmen had no means of seeking out the markets, in which to sell with full advantage to themselves. in an old curé, whose name is remembered with affection, the abbé chicogne, conceived the idea of creating a co-operative society; and aided by the count de villemois, he grouped the workers, and drew up the statutes of the association, that remain in force to the present day. all the products are brought together into a common store, and sold for the benefit of the associates. no member is permitted to dispose of a single piece of his workmanship to a purchaser; he may not sell in gross any more than he may in detail. the cave-houses are comfortably and neatly furnished, and their appearance and that of their inhabitants proclaims well-being, content and cheerfulness. on the beune, a tributary of the vézère, is the hamlet of grioteaux, planted on a terrace in a cave, the rock overhangs the houses. above the cluster, inaccessible without a ladder, in the face of the cliff, is a chamber hewn out of the rock, and joist holes proclaiming that at one time a wooden gallery preceded it. this cavern, that is wholly artificial, served in times of trouble as a place in which the community concealed their valuables. the river célé that flows into the lot passes under noble cliffs of fawn and orange-tinted limestone, and the road here is called le défilé des anglais, as the whole valley during the hundred years' war was in the possession of the companies that pretended to fight for the leopards. and it was down this defile that the cutthroats rode on their plundering expeditions. in this valley is the village of sauliac, in an amphitheatre of rocks, where road and river describe a semicircle. the cliff runs up to a height of feet. houses are perched on every available ledge, grappling the rock, where not simply consisting of faced caverns. in the midst of this cirque stands the castle, buried in stately oaks. it was not built till , when the long agony of the war was over, and nothing remained of the english save their empty nests in the rock, and their hated name. a modern chapel, very white and not congruous with its surroundings, is perched above the road on a terrace under le roc percé, so named from a natural cavern, very round, drilled through it, as though wrought by a giant's boring tool. at cuzorn, on the line from perigueux to agen, are very fine rocks in a meander of the lemance, starting out of woods, and these contain caverns that have been, and some still are, inhabited. in this region are many quarries, not open to the sky, but forming halls and galleries under the hill, and some of these have been taken possession of and turned into habitations. at brantôme on the dronne a good many of the houses are against the rock, the caves built up in front with the usual window and door to each. more have their workshops in grottoes, in them blacksmiths have their forges, carpenters their planing benches, tinkers, tailors, cobblers carry on their business in comparative obscurity. the superior stratum of rock is of so hard and tenacious a quality that it holds together with very few piers to support it. when a citizen wants to enlarge his premises, he merely digs deeper into the hill; he has no ground-rent to pay. some caves open a hundred feet wide without a support. [illustration: grioteaux. a hamlet under overhanging rocks and with chambers excavated in the rock. above is a cave used as a place of refuge, and notches that indicate where was a gallery reached by a rope or ladder.] [illustration: la rochebrune. the upper chamber with eight holes in the floor, six for stabbing at those who had invaded the lower chamber, and two providing the means of escape.] any one motoring or going by rail from angoulême to périgueux should halt half-way at la roche beaucourt, where the rock l'argentine contains a nest of cave-dwellings, with silos in the floors and cupboards in the walls. that the savage is not extinct in these out-of-the-way parts may be judged from this--that at hautefaye near by, the peasants in laid hold of m. de moneis, who objected to the prosecution of the war with the prussians after sedan, cruelly maltreated him, and threw him alive on a bonfire in which he expired among the flames. the whole south-east angle of the isle of sicily is full of underground cities, of which that of the val d'ispica is the most famous. these excavations are vulgarly called ddieri, but they are not in most cases tombs, but dwelling-places for the living, as is shown by the handmills for oil and corn that are found in them. the val d'ispica is a narrow valley situated between modica and spaicaforno; and throughout its entire length of about eight miles, the rock walls are pierced on both sides with countless grottoes, all artificial, and showing the marks of tools on their walls. they are scooped in the calcareous rock. some consist of as many as ten or twelve chambers in succession, and are seldom more than feet deep by feet high, and they are of the same breadth. at the bottom of the valley flows a little stream that supplied the inhabitants with water, and irrigates wild fig-trees and pink-flowered oleanders. on a higher level grow broad-leaved acanthi and wild artichokes, and thick festoons of cactus hang down from the top of the rock and shade the entrances to the grottoes. a portion of the rock wall on the right bank of the stream has fallen, and exposed to sight the internal arrangement of the dwellings. but previous to this, ascent could only have been made by ladders or by notches in the rock for the insertion of toes and fingers, as among the cliff-dwellers in arizona. there are ranges of these habitations on several stages, and steps cut in the rock allowed communication between them; but above all is a ledge or gallery open to the sky and commanding a magnificent prospect. this could be reached only by a ladder, and probably formed the rendezvous of the women of the troglodyte town in an evening to enjoy the cool air, and exercise their tongues. it may also have served as the last refuge of the inmates of the caverns, who, after escaping to it could withdraw the ladder. one dwelling of three storeys, with flights of steps in good preservation, is called the castle by the peasants. parthey, a german traveller, who investigated these dwellings, reckoned their number to be over . he saw nowhere any trace of ornament about them. doors and windows were mere rough holes cut through the limestone. rings hewn in the stone which are found in the chambers probably served some purpose of domestic economy. fragments of samian ware and carved marble have been found in them, but are probably later than the construction of these habitations. some contain graves, and these also may be later, but actually we know from history nothing about them. rock tombs may have been utilised as dwellings or abandoned dwellings as tombs. to the present day some of them are still occupied, mainly by shepherds and poor peasants. the range in the crimea from cape kersonese to the bay of ratla is formed of layers of limestone alternating with clay and argilaceous schist, a disposition of the strata that tends greatly to accelerate the disintegration of the cliffs. the clay gradually washed out by springs or eaten away by the weather forms great caverns in the sides, and these are liable to fall in when deprived of support. they have, however, been utilised as habitations. the rock of inkermann, the ancient celamita, runs east of the town beyond the marshy valley of the chernaya; it has been converted into a vast quarry which menaces with destruction the old troglodyte town that occupied the cliffs. the galleries of this underground town form a rabbit warren in which it is dangerous to penetrate without a guide or a clue. some of the chambers are large enough to contain five hundred people. the rocks of djonfont-kaleharri are also honeycombed, with still inhabited caves; some are completely cavernous, but others have the openings walled up so as to form a screen. beneath an overhanging rock is a domed church used by this troglodyte community. if we cross the mediterranean to egypt, we see there whole villages of cave-dwellers. the district between mansa-sura and cyrene is full of grottoes in the very heart of the mountains, into which whole families get by means of ropes, and many are born, live and die in these dens, without ever going out of them. the volcanic breccia as well as chalk and limestone has been utilised for the habitation of man. there is a very interesting collection of cave-dwellings all artificial, the balmes du montbrun, a volcanic crater of the coiron, near s. jean le centenier in the vivarais. the crater is feet in diameter and feet deep; and man has burrowed into the sides of porous lava or pumice to form a series of habitations, a chapel, and one that is traditionally said to have served as a prison. this rock settlement was occupied till the close of the eighteenth century. the grottoes de boissière are twelve in number, on the side of the puy de châteauneuf, commanding the road from saint nectaire to marols, puy de dôme. they are excavated in the volcanic tufa, and are all much of the same dimensions; one, however, measures feet by feet, and is feet high. below the grottoes the slope of the hill is parcelled out into small fields or gardens by means of walls of stones laid one on another without mortar, showing that the inhabitants of these caves lived there permanently and cultivated the ground below their dwellings. [footnote: there are others, les grottes de rajah, in the same mass of rock, with near them an isolated rock carved about and supposed to have been an idol.] more curious still are the grottoes de jonas on the couze, also in puy de dôme, near cheix. they are in stages one range above another to the height of from to feet. the face of the mountain is precipitous, and is of a porous tufa full of holes. as many as sixty of these artificial caves remain; but there were at one time many more, that have been destroyed by the fall of the very friable volcanic rock. it is impossible to determine the period at which these caves were excavated; they were probably prehistoric to begin with, but were tenanted during the middle ages when--if not later--the tracks leading to them were cut in the tufa and stairs to connect the several stages. then paths were bordered by walls as a protection, and fragments of the parapet remain. probably it was during the english occupation of guienne which extended into auvergne, that a castle and a chapel were sculptured out of the living rock. at the same time a remarkable spiral staircase was contrived in like manner. numerous relics of all periods--flint tools, bronze weapons, statuettes, and coins--have been found among the rubbish thrown out from these dens. [footnote: g. tournier, _les mégalithes et les grottes des environs de s. nectaire_. paris, .] on the borne, in haute loire, dug out of the volcanic rock are several cave-dwellings. the caves at conteaux are fourteen in number, the largest is divided into three compartments; each is feet deep and feet wide, but the usual dimension is from to feet. in all, the vault is rather over feet high. an opening in the roof of one gave vent to smoke. the rock of ceyssac is curious. formerly a barrier of volcanic tufa stretched across the valley of the borne; this barrier had been ejected from the volcano of la denise. the river, arrested in its onward course, was ponded back and formed a lake that overflowed the dam in two places, leaving between them a fang of harder rock. when the water had spilled for a considerable time over the left-hand lip, and had worn this down to a depth of about feet, it all at once abandoned this mode of outlet and concentrated its efforts on the right-hand portion of the dam where it found the tufa less compact. it eventually sawed its way completely through till it reached its present level, leaving the prong of rock in the middle rising precipitously out of the valley with the river gliding peacefully below it, but attached to the mountain side by the neck it had abandoned. the fang was laid hold of, burrowed into, and converted into a village of troglodytes. in it are cave-dwellings in five superposed storeys, stables with their mangers, with rings for tying up cattle, a vast hall, that is circular, and chambers with lockers and seats graven out of the sides of the walls. there is also a subterranean chapel, with the entrance blocked by a wall that contains an early romanesque doorway. the polignacs seized on the spike of rock and built on the summit a castle that could be reached only by a flight of steps cut in the face of the rock. by degrees the inhabitants have migrated from their caves to the neck of land connecting the prong with the hill, and have built themselves houses thereon. they have even abandoned their monolithic church and erected in its place an unsightly modern building. there are other cave-dwellings in the volcanic rocks of the cevennes and auvergne, but the above account must suffice. i will now say something about the troglodyte dwellings in the sandstone in corrèze, in the neighbourhood of brive, caves that have been inhabited from the time of the man who was contemporary with the mammoth, to this day. some have, however, been abandoned comparatively recently. they do not run deep into the rock; usually they face the south or south-west, and are sometimes in a series at the same level; sometimes they form several storeys, which communicated with each other by ladders that passed through holes cut in the floor of the upper storey, or else by a narrow cornice, wide enough for one to walk on. sometimes this cornice has been abraded by the weather, and fallen away; in which case these cave-dwellings can be reached only by a ladder. there are caves in which notches cut in the rock show where beams had been inserted, and struts to maintain them, so as to form a wooden balcony for communication between the chambers, or between the dwellings of neighbours. the doorways into these habitations are usually cut so as to admit a wooden frame to which a door might be attached; and there are deep holes bored in the rock, very much as in our old churches and towers, for the cross-piece of timber that effectually fastened the door. the grottoes are cut square, the ceilings are always sensibly horizontal, and the walls always vertical. but where a natural hollow has been artificially deepened, there the opening is usually irregular. moreover, in such case, the gaping mouth of the cave was in part walled up. the traces of the tool employed are everywhere observable, they indicate that the rock was cut by a pick having a triangular point. small square holes in the sides, and long horizontal grooves indicate the position of shelves. square hollows of considerable size served as cupboards, and oblong rectangular recesses, inches above the floor, and from feet inches to feet inches high and a foot deep were benches. bedplaces were also cut in the rock. there are also indications of a floor having been carried across in some of the loftier caves, and there are openings in the roofs through which ascent was made to the series of chambers on the upper storey. holes pierced in the ceiling served for the suspension of articles liable to be injured by proximity to a damp rock. a string was attached to the middle of a short stick, that was thrust into the hole. the string was then pulled and it was fast. another plan was that of boring holes at an angle into the rock at the side. into these holes rods were thrust and what was required to be kept dry was suspended from them. [illustration: sketch plan of rock stable, commarques.] some of the grottoes served at once for man and beast and fowl. not only are there chambers for the former, but also mangers for cattle, and silos to contain the fodder; and there are nooks for pigeons in an adjoining cave. in many cases there are cisterns; in one is a well. the cisterns had to be filled laboriously. they are provided with bungholes for the purpose of occasional cleaning out. the walls are scored with concave grooves slanting downwards, uniting and leading into small basins. the moisture condensing on the sides trickled into these runnels and supplied the basins with drinking water. the mangers have holes bored in the stone through which passed the halters. there are indications that the cattle were hauled up by means of a windlass. that these were not places of refuge in times of danger, but were permanent habitations, would appear from the fact that those of lamouroux contain mural paintings, and that in them, in addition to stables, there is a pigeonry. in one or two instances the piers that support the roof have sculptured capitals, of the twelfth or thirteenth century. in the cave-dwelling still tenanted at siourat is cut the date, i.d. , surmounted by a cross. [footnote: lalande (ph.), _les grottes artificielles des environs de brive_. in _mémoires de la soc. de spéliologie_. paris, .] i have given the plan of the caves of lamouroux in my "deserts of southern france." how general rock habitations were at one time in perigord may be judged by the prevalence of the place-name _cluseau_, which always meant a cave that was dwelt in, with the opening walled up, window and door inserted; _roffi_ is applied to any ordinary grotto, whether inhabited or not. it would be quite impossible for me to give a list of the cave- dwellings in france still inhabited, or occupied till comparatively recent times, they are so numerous and are to be found in every department where is the chalk or the limestone, sandstone or volcanic tufa. they are to be met with not only in those parts of france from which the above specimens have been taken and described, but also in var, bouches du rhone, aveyron, gard, lozère, cantal, charente, vienne, &c. there is a good deal of sameness in the appearance of those still inhabited--a walled face, a mask, with window and door, and above a chimney of brick rising out of the rock. [illustration: plan of the rock holes in nottingham park. total length of excavation on south front yards.] in england, nottingham drew its ancient british name of tigguocobauc (house of caves) from its troglodyte habitations; at mansfield in that county such caves exist, and were associated with a class of inhabitants somewhat nomadic, who obtained their living by making besoms from the heather of the adjoining forest and moorland. they established a colony on the roadside waste, and sank wells in the rock for water. nottingham enjoyed possibly the largest brewing and malting business in the country, and those trades were nearly wholly carried on in chambers and cellars and kilns cut out of the living rock. mr. w. stevenson, author of "bygone nottinghamshire," writes to me: "last week i was with an antiquarian friend exploring an ancient passage in the castle rock, originally made as a sally-port to the castle, but at some later period when bricks came on the scene, converted or enlarged into a set of malt offices with malt kilns complete. their original use and locality have been lost for a century, and their recovery is just being brought about. their situation, high over the adjoining meadow, and their presence in the very heart of the rock that rises abrupt to the height of feet is truly romantic. the foot of the range of cliffs, with a south aspect, was a favoured site. here we find communities of monks dwelling for centuries, hermits spotted about, and a great part of the town-dwellers, tanners, dyers, and other trades where water was largely required. a peculiarity of these houses was their fresh-water supply. the denizens sank holes in their living apartments with steps cut in the rock until they got down to the water level, where they had little pools of fresh water. the system was known as _scoop- wells_, and must have been very ancient. those who lived on higher levels burrowed into the sides of sunken roads, and the track-lines of ancient military defences. in deeds of transfer of property it was customary to describe tenements as _below_ or _above_ ground. old writers have said that they doubted if the erections above ground would fill the space excavated below ground; and to-day, when erecting new buildings, it is necessary to drill down into the rock a yard or more to ascertain that the foundations are not to be laid above the crowns of hidden vaults, chapels, or unknown habitations." thoroton, in his history of nottinghamshire, , gives an illustration of rock-dwellings at sneynton, adjoining nottingham, but they have recently been cleared away for railway extension. the sanitary authorities have done their best to sweep the tenants out of the nottingham cave habitations, but in staffordshire at kinver there are still troglodytes. holy austin's rock is a mass of red sandstone, a spur of the bluff of kinver edge, that is crowned by the earthworks of what is supposed to have been a camp of penda. but it has been broken through by wind and rain and perhaps sea, and now stands out unattached. it is honeycombed with habitations. i have been into several. they are neat and dry, and the occupants are loud in praise of them, as warm in winter and cool in summer. they are in two stages. at drakelow also there are several, also occupied, somewhat disfigured by hideous chimneys recently erected in yellow and red bricks. one chimney is peculiarly quaint as being twisted, like a writhing worm, to accommodate itself to the shape of the overhanging rock. another series of these habitations is now abandoned, but was occupied till a comparatively recent period, and other houses have their stables and storerooms excavated out of the rock. although derbyshire abounds with caverns, some natural, some the work of miners, from roman times, they do not appear to have been inhabited, at least since prehistoric times, except as occasional refuges. but there is a rock hermitage at dale abbey that has been lived in till recently, and when mr. st. john hope was excavating the abbey ruins, one of his workmen informed him that he had been born and bred in it. a writer in _the cornish magazine_ gives the following account of some cornish cave-dwellers. "people in the habit of frequenting the shore of whitsand bay, between lore and dowderry, are familiar with the sight of a couple of women moving about among the rocks exposed at low tide. they are shell-fish gatherers, who live in a small cave a little to the west of seaton. the illustration shows almost the extent of this cleft in the shady cliff, and any one who examines the place must wonder how two human beings can exist there. along one side is a strip of sand, and from that the floor slopes upwards at an angle of about sixty degrees. whether by years of practice the women have attained such perfection in the art of balancing their bodies that they go to sleep on the slanting rock without fear of falling, or whether they rest on the sand (wet when i saw it from a late storm), i was not informed; but it is evident that they know no comfort at any time. when i came suddenly upon the cave one morning in october, the smouldering ashes of a drift-wood fire, a kettle, a teapot, and two cups were dotted about just inside. further up the floor their 'cupboards'--a couple of iron boilers--were standing, and in a niche near the fire was a pipe--short, dark, and odorous. the women who have made this their dwelling are irish widows, 'born in ireland and married in ireland,' as one of them said. they are between fifty and sixty years of age, and for the last thirty years have managed to gain a subsistence by gathering limpets week after week and taking them to plymouth. when the sea is rough they obtain few or no fish, but under favourable circumstances the two sometimes get fourteen shillings a week between them. in fine weather, when from rame head to looe island the sea lies calm and glistening under a summer sky, this smoke-blackened cave is an uninviting hovel; and in the winter, especially when there is a gale from the south-east, the women must be almost blown out of the hollow or frozen to death. on such occasions they are forced to leave the cave, and then they go to a disused pigsty near by. in talking with them while they dexterously chipped limpets from the weed-mantled rocks, i mildly remarked that workhouses were now very comfortable. immediately the younger woman stood erect, and with something akin to pride and determination, exclaimed in a voice more than tinctured by the irish patois, 'never, sir, will us go to the workhouse while us can get as much as an crust in twenty-four hours.' hitherto i had seen her only in a stooping attitude, and i was surprised to see how tall a woman she was, and what strength of character was indicated by her features. as she stood there amongst the sea-weed, with feet and legs bare, and her hair confined by a handkerchief, beating the palm of one hand with the knuckles of the other to emphasise her words, it dawned upon me that i had named the thing against which these two women had fought grimly for more than a quarter of a century." [footnote: _the cornish magazine_, i. ( ), pp. - .] [illustration: drakelow in kinver, shropshire] [illustration: aubeterre. one of the subterranean excavations at aubeterre on the dronne, serving as stables, storehouses, etc. at the side on the right may be seen an oven for bread, scooped out of the rock.] sir arthur mitchell describes some troglodytes in scotland.[footnote: "the past in the present," edin. , pp. - .] "in august , along with two friends, i visited the great cave at the south side of wick bay. it was nine at night, and getting dark when we reached it. it is situated in a cliff, and its mouth is close to the sea. very high tides, especially with north-east winds, reach the entrance and force the occupants to seek safety in the back part of the cave, which is at a somewhat higher level than its mouth. "we found twenty-four inmates--men, women, and children--belonging to four families, the heads of which were all there. they had retired to rest for the night a short time before our arrival, but their fires were still smouldering. they received us civilly, perhaps with more than mere civility, after a judicious distribution of pence and tobacco. to our great relief, the dogs, which were numerous and vicious, seemed to understand that we were welcome. "the beds on which we found these people lying consisted of straw, grass and bracken, spread upon the rock or shingle, and each was supplied with one or two dirty, ragged blankets or pieces of matting. two of the beds were near the peat-fires, which were still burning, but the others were further back in the cave where they were better sheltered. "on the bed nearest the entrance lay a man and his wife, both absolutely naked, and two little children in the same state. on the next bed lay another couple, an infant, and one or two elder children. then came a bed with a bundle of children, whom i did not count. a youngish man and his wife, not quite naked, and some children, occupied the fourth bed, while the fifth from the mouth of the cave was in possession of the remaining couple and two of their children, one of whom was on the spot of its birth. far back in the cave--upstairs in the garret, as they facetiously called it--were three or four biggish boys, who were undressed, but had not lain down. one of them, moving about with a flickering light in his hand, contributed greatly to the weirdness of the scene. beside the child spoken of, we were told of another birth in the cave, and we heard also of a recent death there, that of a little child from typhus. the procurator-fiscal saw this dead child lying naked on a large flat stone. its father lay beside it in the delirium of typhus, when death paid this visit to an abode with no door to knock at. "both men and women, naked to their waists, sat up in their lairs and talked to us, and showed no sense of shame. one of the men summoned the candle-boy from the garret, in order that we might see better, and his wife trimmed the dying fire, and then, after lighting her pipe, proceeded to suckle her child. "in the afternoon of the next day, with another friend, i paid a second visit to this cave, when we found eighteen inmates, most of whom were at an early supper, consisting of porridge and treacle, apparently well cooked and clean. one of the women was busy baking. she mixed the oatmeal and water in a tin dish, spread the cake out on a flat stone which served her for a table, and placing the cake against another stone, toasted it at the open fire of turf and wood. this was one of three fires, all situated about the centre of the wider part or mouth of the cave, each with a group about it of women and ragged children. "there was no table, or chair, or stool to be seen, stones being so arranged as to serve all these purposes. there was no sort of building about the entrance of the cave to give shelter from the winds, which must often blow fiercely into it. yet this cave is occupied both in summer and winter by a varying number of families, one or two of them being almost constant tenants. "i believe i am correct in saying that there is no parallel illustration of modern cave life in scotland. the nearest approach to it, perhaps, is the cave on the opposite or north side of the same bay. both of these caves i have had frequent opportunities of visiting, and i have always found them peopled. only occasional use is made of the other caves on the caithness and sutherland coasts. of these, perhaps the cave of ham, in dunnet parish, is the most frequented. it is the nearness to a large town which gives to the wick caves their steady tenants. the neighbouring population is large enough to afford room for trading, begging, and stealing--all the year round. "the occupants of the wick caves are the people commonly known by the name of tinkers. they are so called chiefly because they work in tinned iron. the men cut, shape, hammer, while the women do the soldering. "the tinkers of the wick caves are a mixed breed. there is no gipsy blood in them. some of them claim a west island origin. others say they are true caithness men, and others again look for their ancestors among the southern scotch. they were not strongly built, nor had they a look of vigorous bodily health. their heads and faces were usually bad in form. broken noses and scars were a common disfigurement, and a revelation at the same time of the brutality of their lives. one girl might have been painted for a rustic beauty of the norse type, and there was a boy among them with an excellent head. it is possible that one or both of these may yet leave their parents, from dissatisfaction with the life they lead." these cave-dwellers of wick were the offscourings of society, such as might be found in any town slum. "virtue and chastity exist feebly among them, and honour and truth more feebly still; they neither read nor write; they go to no church, and have scarcely any sort of religious belief or worship. they know little or nothing of their history beyond what can be referred to personal recollection." these, like the slum dwellers of a town, are recruited from outside, they do not constitute a race; they are the dregs of a race--persons who have dropped out of the line of march. an amusing story was told by mr. grant allen. a missionary society had captured, converted, and educated a black man. he was such a promising pupil, and looked so respectable in black clothes and a white tie, that he was advanced to the ministry, and in due course consecrated bishop, and sent out shovel-hat, lawn sleeves, rochet, and all complete, to the gold coast, to found a church there among the natives. now bishop black got on for a little while decorously; but one day the old wild blood in him boiled up--away went shovel-hat and boots, he peeled off his gaiters and knee-breeches, tore his lawn sleeves to rags, and dashed off a howling savage, stark naked, to take to himself a dozen wives, and to go head-hunting. what was born in the bone would come out in the flesh. probably there is an underlying vein of the savage in all of us, but it is kept in control by the restraints of habit accumulated through generations of civilisation. yet there it is. a quiet, well-conducted dog will sometimes disappear for a few days and nights. it has gone off on a spree, to poach on its own account. then, when it has had its fling, it returns, and is meek, docile, and orderly as before. there is something of this in man. he becomes impatient of the trammels of ordinary life, its routine and matter-of-fact, and a hunger comes over him for a complete change, to shake off the bonds of conventionality, escape the drudgery of work, and live a free, wild life. among many this takes the form of going to the colonies or to wild africa or western canada, to shoot game, to camp out, and be a savage for a while. among the artisan class it takes another form--the great army of tramps is recruited thus. the struggle to maintain a family, the dry uninteresting toil, drives the man into a fit of impatience, and he leaves his work, his wife and bairns, and becomes a wanderer; idle, moving on from place to place, never starving, never very comfortable--in dirt and idleness, and often in drink--but with no ties, and going here, there, and everywhere as he lists. not many years ago there was a man who lived by the devil's dyke, on the south downs of sussex, in a shelter under a hedge, picking up coppers from visitors to the dyke, dressed like ally sloper, but living in a manner more squalid and under a worse shelter than would be endured by most savages in the darkest parts of africa. what his history was no one knew. it is now somewhat longer since a medical man, in an excess of impatience against civilisation, constructed for himself a hovel out of hurdles thatched with reeds, in south devon. he lived in it, solitary, speaking to no one. occasionally he bought a sheep and killed it, and ate it as the appetite prompted, and before it was done the meat had become putrid. at length the police interfered, the stench became intolerable in the neighbourhood, as the hovel was by the roadside. the doctor was ordered to remove, and he went no one seems to know whither. in charles the first's time there were men living in the caves and dens of the ravines about lydford in south devon. they had a king over them named richard rowle, and they went by the name of the gubbins. william browne, a poet of the time, wrote in :-- "the town's enclosed with desert moors, but where no bear nor lion roars, and naught can live but hogs; for all o'erturned by noah's flood, of fourscore miles scarce one foot's good, and hills are wholly bogs. and near hereto's the gubbins' cave; a people that no knowledge have of law, of god, or men; whom caesar never yet subdued, who've lawless liv'd; of manners rude; all savage in their den. by whom, if any pass that way, he dares not the least time to stay, for presently they howl; upon which signal they do muster their naked forces in a cluster led forth by roger rowle." i extract the following from the _daily express_ of may , : -- "it was stated at an inquest held on richard manford at market drayton yesterday, that he was over eighty years of age, and had for the greater part of his life dwelt in a cave near hawkstone. he was found dying by the roadside." elsewhere [footnote: "an old english home," methuen, .] i have given an account of the north devon savages, to whom mr. greenwood first drew attention. till a very few years ago there lived on the cornish moors a quarryman--he may be living still for aught i have heard to the contrary---in a solitary hut piled up of granite. he would allow no one to approach, threatening visitors with a gun. his old mother lived with him. by some means the rumour got about that she was dead, but as the man said nothing, it was not till this rumour became persistent that the authorities took cognisance of it, and visited the hovel. they found that the old woman's bed had been a hole scooped out of the bank that formed part of the wall; that she had been dead some considerable time, and that her face was eaten away by rats. daniel gumb was a stone-cutter who lived near the cheese wring on the cornish moors in the eighteenth century. he inhabited a cave composed of masses of granite. it is an artificial cell about twelve feet deep and not quite that breadth. the roof consists of one flat stone of many tons weight. on the right hand of the entrance is cut "d. gumb," with a date (or ). on the upper part of the covering stone channels are cut to carry off the rain. here he dwelt for several years with his wife and children, several of whom were born and died there. how instinctively the man of the present day will revert to primitive usages and to the ground as his natural refuge may be illustrated by a couple of instances. mr. hamerton, in "a painter's camp," says that near sens on a height is a little pleasure-house and the remnant of a forgotten chapel dedicated to s. bondus. this belonged of late years to a gentleman of sens who was passionately attached to the spot. "near my tent there is a hole in the chalk leading to the very bowels of the earth. a long passage, connecting cells far apart, winds till it arrives under the house, and it is said that the late owner intended to cut other passages and cells, but wherefore no man knows. one thing is certain, he loved the place, and spent money there for the love of it. night and day he came up here from his little city on the plain, sat in his pleasant octagon room, and descended into his winding subterranean passages, and hermit-like visited the hollow cells." on his death he bequeathed it to the archbishop of sens. [footnote: "a painter's camp," lond. , bk. iii. c. .] another instance is from our own country. mr. l.p. jacks' very remarkable book, "mad shepherds," gives an account of one toller of clun downs, who went deranged, took to the moors and lived for a considerable time, stealing sheep and poultry. "beyond the furthest outpost of the perryman farm lie extensive wolds rising rapidly into desolate regions where sheep can scarcely find pasture. in this region toller concealed himself. about two miles beyond the old quarry, on a slaty hillside, he found a deep pit; and here he built himself a hut. he made the walls out of stones of a ruined sheepfold; he roofed them with a sheet of corrugated iron, stolen from the outbuildings of a neighbouring farm, and covered the iron with sods; he built a fireplace with a flue, but no chimney; he caused water from a spring to flow into a hollow beside the door. then he collected slates, loose stones and casks; and by heaping these against the walls of the hut, he gave the whole structure the appearance of a mound of rubbish. human eyes rarely came within sight of the spot; but even a keen observer of casual objects would not have suspected that the mound represented any sort of human dwelling. it was a masterpiece of protective imitation.... his implements were all of flint, neatly bound in their handles with strips of hide. there was an axe for slaughter, a dagger for cutting meat, a hammer for breaking bones, a saw and scrapers of various size--the plunder of some barrow on clun downs." there toller lived for several months, and there he died, his hiding-place being known to one other shepherd, and to him alone; and there after his death he was buried. "my 'usband dug his grave wi' his own hands," said the widow of this shepherd, "close beside the hut, and buried him next day. he put the axe and slings just as he told him, wi' the stones and all the bits of flint things as he found 'em in the hut." [footnote: "mad shepherds, and other human studies," lond. , p. _et seq_.] chapter iii souterrains in the year the prussian army of the elbe broke into bohemia, when it was found that the inhabitants of a certain district had vanished along with their cattle and goods, leaving behind empty houses and stables. it had been the same during the thirty years' war, and again in the seven years' war, when the invaders found not a living soul, and contented themselves with destroying the crops and burning the villages and farms. even the government officials had disappeared. whither had they gone? into the rock labyrinths of adersbach and wickelsdorf, each accessible only through a single gap closed by a door. the mountain of what the germans call quadersandstein is four miles long by two broad, and was at one time an elevated plateau, but is now torn into gullies, forming a tangled skein of ravines, wherein a visitor without a guide might easily lose himself. the existence of this labyrinth was unknown save to the peasants till the year , when a forest fire revealed it, but for some time it remained unexplored. [footnote: it had indeed been mentioned by dr. kausch in his _nachrichten über böhmen_, ; but he lamented its inaccessibility.] as adersbach and wickelsdorf lie on the frontier of bohemia and silesia, the existence of this region of cliffs and natural refuges had been kept secret by the natives, who looked upon it as a secure hiding- place for themselves and their chattels when the storm of war swept over the riesen gebirge. but the fatal fire of betrayed their secret to the world, and after a little hesitation, thinking to make profit out of it as a show-place, paths were cut through it, and it was advertised in . when, in , the prussians passed by, they incurred neither the risk nor the trouble of hunting out the refugees from their place of concealment. the rocks run up to feet, the loftiest being feet. they assume the most fantastic shapes. the passage through the fissures is so narrow that in some places it can be threaded by one man alone at a time, the others following in single file. a rivulet, clear as crystal, traverses the network of gullies, and in one place forms a tiny cascade. one nook is called the southern siberia, because in it the snow lies unmelted throughout the summer. at intervals the rocks fall back and form open spaces, and at one describe an amphitheatre upon a vista of rolling forest. but if this "petrified forest," as it has been called, served as a refuge for the peasants in troublous times, it has also been employed by brigands as their fastness whence to ravage the country and render the roads perilous. but of their exploits i shall have more to say in the chapter on robber-dens. caverns, as well as chasms, have always served this same purpose. there is something remarkably human and significant in the prophecy of isaiah relative to the coming of the judge of all the earth: "they shall go into the holes of the rocks, and into the caves of the earth, for fear of the lord, and for the glory of his majesty." and in the book of revelation: "and the kings of the earth, and the great men, and the rich men, and the chief captains, and the mighty men, and every bondman, and every free man, hid themselves in the dens and in the rocks of the mountains." as the first men found their refuges and homes in caves and rock shelters, so the last men, with the instinct implanted in them from the first and never eradicated, will fly to the earth as a hiding-place, just as a frightened child flies to the lap of its mother. when ahab persecuted the prophets, obadiah hid them by fifties in a cave. after the battle of bethhoron the five kings of the amorites hid themselves in the cave of makkedah. when the midianites oppressed israel, the latter "made them the dens which are in the mountains, and caves and strongholds." from the philistines "the people did hide themselves in caves and in thickets and in high places, and in pits." twice did elijah take refuge in a cave. what took place in palestine, took place in every part of the world wherever there are limestone and chalk and volcanic breccia and sandstone. it would seem as though a merciful providence had not only provided the first shelters for man against the inclemency of the weather, but had also furnished him with places of secure refuge against the violence of his fellow-man. as sure as the rabbit runs to its hole on the sight of the sportsman, so did the oppressed and timorous when the slayer and the marauder appeared. in the south of france, where caves abound, the unhappy gauls fled from cæsar and concealed themselves in them. he bade his lieutenant crassus wall up the entrances. when the armenians fled before corbulo--"fuere qui se speluncis et carissima secum abderent"--he filled the mouths of the caverns with faggots and burned them out. [footnote: tacit., "annals," xvi. .] when civilis rose in insurrection against vespasian, he was joined by a young native, julius sabinus from langres, who boasted that, in the great war with the gauls, his great-grandmother had taken the fancy of julius caesar, and that to him he owed his name. after the death of nero, the druids had come forth from the retreats where they had remained concealed since their proscription by claudius, and proclaimed that "the roman empire was at an end, and that the gallic empire was come to its birth." insurgents rose on every side, and julius sabinus assumed the title of caesar. war broke out; confusion, hesitation, and actual desertion extended through the colonies, and reached the legions. several towns submitted to the insurgents. some legions yielding to persuasion, bribery, or discontent, killed their officers and went over to the rebels. the gravity of the situation was perceived in rome, and petilius cerealis was despatched to crush the revolt. the struggle that ensued was fierce but brief, and civilis was constrained to surrender. vespasian being disinclined to drive men or matters to an extremity, pardoned him; but no mercy was to be extended to julius sabinus. after the ruin of his cause, sabinus took refuge underground in one of those retreats excavated in the chalk beneath his villa, and two of his freedmen were alone privy to the secret. the further to conceal him, they set fire to his house, and gave out that he had poisoned himself and that his dead body had been consumed in the flames. his young wife, named eponia, was in frantic despair at the news; but one of the freedmen informed her of the place of his retreat, and advised her to assume the habit and exhibit the desolation of widowhood, so as to confirm the report they had disseminated. "well did she play her part," says plutarch, "in this tragedy of woe." she visited her husband in his cave at night, and left him at daybreak, but at last refused to leave him at all. at the end of seven months, hearing talk of the clemency of vespasian, she set out for rome taking her husband with her, disguised as a slave, with shaven head and a dress that rendered him unrecognisable. but friends who were in her confidence dissuaded her from prosecuting the journey. the imperial clemency was not a quality to be calculated upon with confidence. they accordingly returned to their subterranean abode. there they lived for nine years, during which, "as a lioness in her den," says plutarch, "eponia gave birth to two young whelps, and suckled them at her own breast." at length they were discovered, and sabinus and his wife were brought before vespasian. "caesar," said eponia, showing him her children, "i conceived and suckled them in a tomb, that there might be more of us to entreat thy mercy." but the emperor was not disposed to be clement to one who pretended to inherit the sacred julian blood, and he ordered sabinus to be led to the block. eponia asked that she might die with her husband, saying: "caesar, do me this grace, for i have lived more happily underground and in darkness than thou hast done in the splendour of thy palace." vespasian fulfilled her desire by sending her also to execution; and plutarch, their contemporary, expressed the general feeling in rome, when he adds: "in all the long reign of this emperor there was no deed done so cruel, and so piteous to look upon; and he was afterwards punished for it, for in a brief time all his posterity was cut off." in the saracens, masters of the peninsula, poured over the pyrenees, and entered the septimania. they had come not to conquer and pillage, but to conquer and occupy. they had brought with them accordingly their wives and children. they took narbonne, carcassone and nimes, besieged toulouse, and almost totally destroyed bordeaux. thrusting up further, they reached burgundy on one side and poitou on the other. autun was sacked, and the church of s. hilary in poitiers given to the flames. the christians, wherever met with, were hewn down with their curved scimitars; they passed on like a swarm of locusts leaving desolation in their wake. those of the natives who escaped did so by taking advantage of the subterranean refuges either natural or artificial that abounded. and that they did so is shown by the relics of merovingian times that have been found in them. the mussulmans were routed at poitiers by charles martel. three hundred thousand saracens, say the old chroniclers, with their usual exaggeration, fell before the swords of the christians. the rest fled under the walls of narbonne. between and pepin the short resolved on the conquest of septimania, _i.e._ lower languedoc. the goths there had risen against the arabs and appealed for his aid. nimes, agde, beziers, carcassonne opened their gates, but narbonne resisted for seven years. when it surrendered in , the empire of the franks for the first time touched the eastern pyrenees. pepin now picked a quarrel with waifre, duke of aquitaine, and crossing the loire made of the unhappy country a hunting-ground for the franks. he delivered the land over to a systematic devastation. from the loire to the garonne the houses were burnt, and the trees cut down. "the churches, the monasteries, and secular buildings were reduced to ashes. vineyards and fields were ravaged, and the inhabitants put to the edge of the sword. only a few strong places escaped the fury of the soldiers.... the city of cahors fell into the power of the conqueror and was reduced to the same pitiable condition into which it had been brought by the saracens. the inhabitants of quercy who survived owed this to the subterranean retreats which they had made and to the caverns in the rocks that had served them as refuges during the incursion of the infidels. the principal caves are situated on the banks of the lot at cami, luzech, vers, bouzier, s. cirq, la toulsanie, larnagol, calvignac, s. jean de laur, cajarc and laroque-toirac, to above capdenac; on the banks of the célé, at roquefort, espagnac, brengues, s. sulpice, marcillac, liauzun, sauliac, cabrerets; on the banks of the dordogne at belcastel, la cave, le bon sairon, mayronne, blansaguet, montvalent, gluges, saint denis, &c., and between the rivers, autoire, gramat, s. cirq d'alzou, rocamadour, s. martin de vers, crass guillot, to vers among the high cliffs athwart which runs the roman aqueduct, which in certain places, behind its high walls, could shelter a great number of the inhabitants. these caverns are still called gouffios, gouffieros, or waiffers, from the name of duke waifre. [footnote: lacoste's derivation is absurd; gouffieros comes from gouffre, a chasm.] they were closed by a wall, of which there are remains at canis, at brengues, and at s. jean de laur, on the rock that commands the abyss of lantoui. this last cavern is the most remarkable of all, as it is at but a little distance from the castle of cénevières, which was one of the principal strongholds of the duke of aquitaine in quercy." [footnote: lacoste, _histoire de quercy_, cahors, , i. pp. - .] the wretched country had to suffer next from the expedition of the northmen, who pushed up every river, destroying, pillaging, and showing no mercy to man or beast. the most redoutable of these pirates was hastings, who ravaged the banks of the loire between and , sacked bordeaux and saintes and menaced tarbes. in he was again in the loire, and penetrated as far as clermont ferrand. there seemed to be no other means of appeasing him than by granting him the country of chartres. but this did not content his turbulent spirit, and at the age of nearly seventy he abandoned his county to resume his piracies. an icelandic saga relating the adventures of a viking, orvar odd in aquitaine, describes how he saw some of the natives taking refuge in an underground retreat, and how he pursued and killed them all. [footnote: _fornmanna sögwr_, copenhagen, , ii. p. .] in the persecution of the albigenses at the instigation of pope innocent iii. the unfortunate heretics fled to the caves, but were hunted, or smoked out and massacred by the papal emissaries. nevertheless, a good many escaped, and in , when john xxii. was reigning in avignon, he ordered a fresh _battu_ of heretics. a great number fled to the cave of lombrive near ussat in ariège. it consists of an immense hall, and runs to the length of nearly four miles. in the papal troops, to save themselves the trouble or risk of penetrating into these recesses after their prey, built up the entrance, and left from four to five hundred albigenses along with their bishops to perish therein of starvation. of late years the bones have been collected, removed, and buried. from , the bordelois, saintonge, agenois, perigord, and the limousin were nominally under the english crown. but the people did not bear their subjection with patience, and often rose in revolt, and their revolts were put down with ferocity. as to the barons and seigneurs of guyenne, they took which side suited their momentary convenience, and shifted their allegiance as seemed most profitable to them. but the worst season was after the treaty of bretigny in , when a vast part of france, from the loire to the pyrenees was made over to the english. the hundred years' war was the consequence, of which more shall be said in the fifth chapter. froissart describes the condition of the country: "matters were so woven together there and the lords and knights were so divided, that the strong trampled down the weak, and neither law nor reason was measured out to any man. towns and castles were intermixed inextricably; some were english, others french, and they attacked one another and ransomed and pillaged one another incessantly." under these circumstances it may well be understood that if nature herself had not of her own accord furnished the miserable, harassed people with refuges, they would themselves have contrived some. as we shall see they did this, as well as make use of the natural provision supplied for their safety. of refuges there are two kinds, those patiently and laboriously excavated under the surface of the soil, and those either natural or contrived high up in the face of inaccessible cliffs. each shall be dealt with; they are different in character. the town of saint macaire on the garonne is walled about. but the walls did not give to the citizens all the security they desired; the ramparts might be battered down, escaladed, or the gates burst open. accordingly they excavated, beneath the town, a complete labyrinth of passages, chambers, halls, and store-rooms into which they might either retreat themselves or where they might secure their valuables in the event of the town being sacked. at alban in tarn there are retreats of like nature under the houses, refuges at one time of the persecuted albigenses, at another of the inhabitants secreting themselves and their goods from the routiers. at molières in lot they are beneath the church, and the approximate date can be fixed when these were excavated, as molières was founded in . bourg-sur-garonne is likewise honeycombed with such retreats, so is aubeterre, of which more hereafter. the network of underground galleries and chambers is now closed, because the soft chalk rock has fallen in in several places. at ingrandes-sur-vienne there are three groups of these refuges, extending to a considerable distance. at chateau robin in the touraine is a chalk cliff that rises above the road to the height of sixty feet and is crowned by a tumulus. in its face are two sets of caves, one superposed over the other. this upper cave or shelter is the most ancient, and dates from prehistoric times, but has been utilised much later. the lower cave is exposed by the widening of the road which has obliterated the original face of the cliff and the original entrance, having made three openings by cutting into a chamber to which formerly there was but a single entrance. the plan of the excavation was made by m. antoine and communicated to the "bulletin de la société archéologique de touraine," in , but i will give a description from the pen of a later visitor. "the upper rock-shelter has been dug out or enlarged with a pick. the stone is a tender tufa, containing a quantity of little cores of black silex, giving it a spotty appearance. it was quite impossible to cut the stone so as to give a smooth surface. "the most mysterious portion, however, of the whole is certainly the lower range of vaults, a subject of terror to the inhabitants of the neighbourhood, who believe them to be the abode of the devil. some persons have visited them, but very few have explored them. having calculated on the assistance of a poacher of some repute as a fearless fellow, he pointblank refused to accompany me when i proposed an expedition into the cave. i applied to a man of more resolution, a landowner at arzay-le-rideau, who readily volunteered his assistance; but when we arrived on the spot, contented himself with showing me the entrance, but declined to adventure himself within, though he assured me he had visited the interior some five-and-twenty or thirty years ago. "these excavations have now several openings upon the road; the two principal are accessible enough, if one is suitably dressed, for beyond the entrance one has to crawl on hands and knees, and this is but the initiation of other discomforts. "the entrances are, so to speak, in the ditch of the road to azay. the most practicable of them, and that by which m. antoine and i penetrated, is the easternmost of the three, and is marked a on the plan, and it gives access to a small triangular chamber c; but the entrance is so low that one can only enter on one's knees or in a doubled position. further on it is loftier. on advancing to the end one leaves on the right a sort of staircase b cut in the rock, but very worn, which formerly ascended spirally to the upper cave, but is now without issue. [illustration: plan of the refuge of château robin (indre et loire).] "at the bottom of the chamber c a very narrow passage turns at a right angle and gives access to a large hall e that is sustained by a pillar f. this pillar is three feet square and the vaulted chamber may be to feet square and feet high. on the left a great pier g allows of two passages i i which lead to the other openings that gape upon the road, and turning to the right give access to the further depths of the underground retreat. a passage h is, however, the most direct means of communication between the cavern e and the larger hall j to which also access is obtained through the openings i i separated by the pillar s. "the cavern j, the largest of all, is feet long by feet wide at the one end and feet at the other. it is supported by the pillar k, shaped to suit the widening of the hall. at the bottom of this chamber is a staircase l descending from the floor and without any breastwork to protect it, and therefore dangerous, as it goes down feet, and is but about a foot and a half wide. this staircase is feet long, and the passage m that is a continuation of it is hardly more than feet high at the entrance, and is nearly feet long, so that one has to creep along it, bent double, assisted by one's hands. "in this position it is absolutely impossible for one to turn round, so narrow is the passage. at this point a difficulty that is not anticipated arrests many a visitor. water rises through the stones that form the floor and contributes to reduce the height of the gallery. if one elects to continue, there is no choice but to take a bath that reaches to one's middle. at a distance of nearly feet comes a right angle, and the passage goes on for feet, then turns to the left by an obtuse angle and pursues its course for feet, then again turns to the right by another obtuse angle, and for feet more one is still half under water, till n is reached, after which the level of the floor rises, as does also the ceiling; one is able to stand erect alongside of another person. in face of one, the wall is cut perpendicularly and seems abruptly to close the passage. however, at a few inches above the soil is a little opening d, formed like the mouth of an oven, and giving indications of a space beyond. in diameter it is about foot inches; by crawling through this hole, an achievement difficult to accomplish, as one cannot even use the elbows to work one's way forward, the explorer descends into a semicircular hall p whose vault is arched and is supported by two oval pillars, feet high. the hall is feet deep and feet wide at the entrance, and is rounded at the further extremity. the soil in this chamber is encumbered with stones and rubbish thrown in from an opening at r, which seems to communicate with other subterranean excavations." nothing was found in these chambers and passages that could give an approximate date, but in the upper "abris" was some gaulish pottery. the water that had half filled the lower passage is due to the river having been dammed up for a mill, and so having raised the level considerably. originally the passage was certainly dry. although this _souterrain réfuge_ is curious, yet it does not present some of the peculiarities noticeable in others--that is to say, elaborate preparations for defence, by contriving pitfalls for the enemy and means of assailing him in flank and rear. the usual artifice for protection was this. the entrance from without led by a gallery or vestibule to an inner doorway that opened into the actual refuge. the passage to this interior doorway was made to descend at a rapid incline, and as it descended it became lower, so that an enemy entering would probably advance at a run, and doubled, and would pitch head foremost into a well, from to feet deep, bottle- shaped, sunk in the floor immediately before the closed and barred door, and which was gaping to receive him. such a well-mouth would usually have a plank crossing it, but in time of danger this plank would be removed. to make doubly sure of precipitating the assailant into it, a side-chamber was contrived with slots commanding the doorway, through which slots pikes, spears and swords could be thrust. beside these contrivances there were also lateral recesses in which the defenders might lurk in ambush, to rush forth to hew at the enemy, or at least to extinguish his torch. almost invariably these hypogees have two exits or entrances, so that those within could escape by one should the enemy force the other, or endeavour to smoke them out. moreover, to keep up a circulation of air, and to obviate the contingency of being smoked out, these underground retreats are almost invariably supplied with ventilating shafts. the marks made by the implements employed in hewing the rock are always distinctly recognisable. moreover within, sunk in the floor, are silos for the storage of grain, the soil often somewhat higher about their orifices than elsewhere, and sometimes provided with covers. niches for lamps may be seen, also cupboards for provisions, in which have been found collections of acorns, walnuts, hazel-nuts and chestnuts carbonized by age. [illustration: sections. château of fayrolle (dordogne). a. entrance. b. continuation, unexplored. c. shaft. dd. doorways. e. modern entrance. ff. store chambers. g. large chamber. h. slot for stabbing assailants. k. ventilating shaft.] a typical _souterrain réfuge_ is that of the château de fayrolle, not far from riberac on the dordogne. it was accidentally discovered when the proprietor was levelling for terraces and gardens. a glance at the plan will save a description. a refuge at s. gauderic has been explored. the region is one of lacustrine deposits called the sandstone of carcassonne; it is friable, argilaceous marl. the opening into the hypogee is in the middle of a field, and there are no indications around of the deposition of the material extracted in the formation of the retreat, so as to betray its presence. the visitor descends by a dozen steps into a long corridor, sinuous, and inclining downwards, about foot inches wide, and feet inches high. the passage exhibits rebates in several places, into which door-frames had been fitted, as well as square holes into which the beams were run that fastened the doors. it leads past several side-chambers into which the defenders might retire, so as to burst forth suddenly and unexpectedly on the foe, smite him and extinguish any torch he bore. the corridor leads to a rectangular hall feet long and feet high, vaulted and ventilated by three circular airholes, inches in diameter. there are numerous silos in the floor, and fragments of coarse grey pottery turned on the wheel have been found there. [footnote: _révue de l'art chretienne_, paris, , p. _et seq_.] m. l. druyn, in his _la guyenne militaire_, bordeaux, , gives the following account of a refuge he explored. "ascending the valley that separates the castle of roquefort from the church of lugasson, after having passed the village of fauroux, one reaches, on the left side of the road, a splendid quarry of hard stone, but a few paces further on, upon the same side, the stone becomes soft. here on the right, in a little coppice beside the road, is found a place of refuge of which i give the plan as accurately as it was possible for me to take it where one had to crawl on hands and knees, and sometimes wriggle forward lying on one's stomach, over earth that was damp and rubble fallen from above, and in corridors completely filled by one human body. "the entrance is at a on a level with the soil outside against the rock, but this cannot have been the original place of admission. it is a round hole and very narrow. the real entrance was at k, where one can distinguish a circular opening like the orifice of a silo, but which is now in the open and is choked with stones; or else at the end of the gallery h b. the chamber y containing silos for preservation of grain must have been the furthest extremity. it is feet inches high, and the floor is higher above the mouth of the silos than elsewhere. the cavern is hewn out of the rock. all the chambers are circular. they are vaulted for the most part in the form of low cupolas. the domes of some are so low that one cannot stand upright in them. the corridors are still lower than the chambers, and one can only get along them by creeping. the extremities of the corridors and the entrances to the chambers had doors originally. one can see the notches for the reception of the closing beams. i saw no trace of hinges. the passages are all arched over in semicircle." [illustration: cluseau de fauroux.] lacoste, speaking of the saracen invasion and devastation of quercy, says that "in lower quercy, where caverns are not common as they are in upper quercy, the inhabitants dug _souterrains_ with a labour that only love of life could prompt. three of vast extent have been discovered at fontanes, mondoumerc, and olmie. that of mondoumerc is cut in the tufa, and is about feet deep. it consists of an infinity of cells, or small chambers, united by a corridor. but the vastest and most remarkable for its extent and the labour devoted on it, is that of olmie. the chambers are scooped out of a very hard sandstone. in some of them are little wells or reservoirs that were filled with water as a precaution against thirst, if refugees were obliged to remain long in this asylum. the passages, with their turns, constitute a veritable labyrinth whence it would be hard to find one's way out without the assistance of a guide." the entrance to these hiding-places was either under a ledger stone in a church, or through a cellar, or half-way down a well, or in a thicket. it must be remembered that it was the duty of every feudal seigneur to provide for the safety of his vassels, and the security of their goods. consequently a great number of such _souterrains_ are under castles or in the grounds of a feudal lord. the rock on which his towers stood was often drilled through and through with galleries, chambers, and store places, for this purpose. on the alarm being given of the approach of an army marching through the land, of a raid by a marauding neighbour, or the hovering of a band of brigands over the spot, within a few hours all this underground world was filled with ploughs, looms, bedding, garments, household stuff of every description, and rang with the bleating of sheep, the lowing of oxen, the neighing of horses, and the whimpering of women and children. at vendôme, the rock on which stands the castle is riddled with passages and halls, access to which is obtained not from the castle, but from the town. at lavardin by montoire it is the same. at paulin in tarn is a noble castle standing on a rock feet high, and in this rock are storerooms, halls, a kitchen, a winding staircase. at montvalon- tauriac, in the same department, under the castle are refuges and granaries. at murat in cantal is the castle of anterroche, and the rocks about it are traversed with galleries leading to chambers containing silos. at salles-la-source in aveyron, in a cleft of the plateau, is the castle of the count of armagnac, and here also there is the same provision. at s. sulpice in tarn are the remains of a castle built in , with its chapel over crypts and galleries carved out of the living stone. at contigne, in maine-et-loire, is the manor of gâtines, underneath which are _souterrains_ that extend for a mile, with store-chambers and chapels, hewn out of the tufa. i might mention a hundred more. but all these pertain to a period before the feudal system had sunk into one of oppression, and when the vassals had confidence in their seigneur. in process of time the conditions altered, and then they contrived their own private hiding-places from their lords and masters. the stories everywhere prevalent where there are castles, that there are under them passages connecting them with a church, a river, or another castle, are probably due to the fact of there having been these subterranean retreats intended for the use of the vassals. but when these latter ceased to look to their lords to protect them, and cast about instead to shelter themselves from their lords, the original purport of these _souterrains_ was forgotten and misinterpreted. one has but to look through the brief notices of towns and villages in joanne's departmental geographies to see what a number of these refuges are already known to exist in france. and he records, be it remembered, only the most interesting. there are thousands more that have either not yet been discovered or remain unexplored. some are revealed by accident; a peasant is ploughing, when his oxen are suddenly engulfed, and he finds that they have broken through the roof of one of these hiding-places. a gentleman is building his chateau, when in sinking his foundations he finds the rock like a petrified sponge--but not like a sponge in this, that the galleries are artificial. a _paysan_ lets himself down his well to clean it out, as the water is foul. he finds that in the side of the shaft is the opening of a passage; he enters, follows it, and finds a labyrinth of galleries. as an instance of the abundance of the _souterrains_ in france, i will take the department of vienne and give in a note below a list of the communes where they are known to be, from _de longuemar, géographie du dep. de la vienne_, poitiers, , and also from several editions of joanne's geography. [footnote: natural grottoes that may have served as refuges are not included. availles, bellefonds, béthines, béruges, bonnes, bussières, château gamier, champniers, curzay, civeaux, gouex, ingrandes, s. julien lars, jazneuil, leugny- sur-creuse, loudun, lautiers, lusignan, marnay, mairé-le-gautier, s. martin-lars, s. martin-la-rivière, maslou montmorillon, mazerolles, mondion, maulay, montreuil-bonnin, naintré, prinçai, romagne, s. remy- sur-creuse, saulgé, nouvaille, persac, s. savin, sossais, thuré, usson, varennes, le vigean, vénièrs, vellèches, verrières, venneuil-sur-biard. several of these are under churches, others under castles. at some of these places are three or more distinct _souterrains._] victor hugo, in his _quatrevingt treise_, speaking of the war in la vendée, says: "it is difficult to picture to oneself what these breton forests really were. they were towns. nothing could be more secret, more silent, and more savage. there were wells round and small, masked by coverings of stones or by branches. the interiors at first vertical, then carried horizontally, spread out underground like tunnels, and ended in dark chambers." these excavations, he states, had been there from time immemorial. he continues: "one of the wildest glades of the wood at misdon, perforated by galleries and cells, out of which came and went a mysterious society, was called 'the great city.' the gloomy breton forests were servants and accomplices of rebellion. the subsoil of every forest was a sort of sponge, pierced and traversed in all directions by a secret highway of mines, cells and galleries. each of these blind cells could shelter five or six men. usually the cover, made of moss and branches, was so artistically fashioned that, although impossible on the outside to distinguish it from the surrounding turf, it was very easy to open and close from the inside. in several of these forests and woods there were not only subterranean villages grouped about the burrow of the chief, but also actual hamlets of low huts hidden under the trees. these underground belligerents were kept perfectly informed of what was going on. nothing could be more rapid, nothing more mysterious, than their means of communication. sometimes they raised the cover of their hiding-places and listened to hear if there was fighting in the distance." he mentions the ability of the ambushed men to spring up, as it were, under the feet of the armies sent against them. and to show the numbers of the concealed forces, he continues: "there are in existence lists which enable one to understand the powerful organisation of that vast peasant rebellion. in isle-et- villaine, in the forest of pertre, not a human trace was to be found, yet there were collected men under focard. in the forest of meullac, in morhiban, not a soul was to be seen, yet it held men. these deceptive copses were filled with fighters, lurking in an underground labyrinth." on march , , napoleon demanded a fresh conscription of , men. this was the third levy that had been called for since the prussian war began. the three conscriptions supplied no less than , men in seven months, and the call for the third produced consternation throughout france. the number of young men who reached the age of eighteen annually in half a year, more than the entire annual generation, had been swept off to lay their bones in the east of europe. great numbers of young fellows fled to the woods, caves, and secret refuges, and concealed themselves; and the gendarmes were employed in hunting them out, but not often with success unless aided by a traitor. again in , when napoleon meditated an invasion of russia, fresh calls were made on the male population. every male capable of bearing arms was forced to assume them, and again, as in , the young men disappeared as rabbits underground. it is quite possible that the peasants, who have found these refuges so convenient in the past, should know more about them and where they are situated than they pretend, thinking that at some future time, another revolution or another german invasion, the knowledge may prove serviceable. and now let us turn to picardy, perhaps the one of the ancient provinces of france most undermined. on the night of february , , after heavy rains, a portion of the wall of the apse of the parish church of gapennes, half-way between aussy-le-château and s. ricquier, collapsed, and in the morning the inhabitants of the commune were stupefied to see the desolation of the holy place. not only was a large breach gaping in the sanctuary, but all the walls of the chancel were fissured, and the pavement of the nave was upheaved in places and in others rent. at first it was supposed that this was the result of an earthquake, but after a while the true cause was discovered. the church had been erected over a vast network of subterranean passages and chambers, and the roofs of some of these had given way. this led to an exploration, and the plan of this subterranean refuge--for such it had been--was traced as far as possible. but gapennes is not the only place where such retreats exist throughout the province. something like a hundred have been found, and more are every now and then coming to light. indeed, it may safely be said that there is scarcely a village between arras and amiens and between roye and the sea, betwixt the courses of the somme and authie, that was not provided with these underground refuges. the character of all is very much the same. they consist of passages communicating with square or circular chambers that served as stores. they have been described at length by m. bouthers in _mémoires de la société d'archéologie du département de la somme_, amiens, , t. i. to what date, or period rather, do they belong? some doubtless are of extreme antiquity, but the majority are comparatively modern. it is a significant fact that the entrance to perhaps the majority is in the sacristy of the parish church, and in that at gapennes care was taken not to undermine the tower of the church. m. de carpentin, who explored and reported on the excavation at gapennes, remarks on the care taken to so distribute the chalk brought up from these passages and vaults that no heaps were anywhere visible. "the motive that can have induced the undertaking of such an extensive work can only have been that necessity drove the inhabitants to create for themselves a refuge in time of war." in it he found two pieces of common pottery, a lock and a hinge of iron, some straw and leather soles of women's shoes. he adds: "at the entrance of several of the chambers the stone is worked to receive doors, and here portions of decayed wood were found. and many of the chambers had their walls blackened by smoke as of lamps." at naours in somme, the underground galleries have been explored thoroughly; there are several circular chambers for stores, and corn has been found in them, also fourteen gold coins of charles vi or louis xiv. in all there are galleries and chambers and the labyrinth extends to the distance of feet. at santerre, which possesses three of these refuges, that portion of its territory was called _territorium sanctæ libertatis_. the north-east of france, picardy and artois, were always exposed to attack from pirates by sea, northmen and saxon, and from invaders over the border. but none of these can have exceeded in barbarity that of to , when spanish armies--the first under john de werth and piccolomini, , in number, and made up of germans, hungarians, croats as well as spaniards--poured over the provinces committing the most frightful atrocities. and precisely to this period some of the refuges may be referred. a ms. account of this invasion, by a priest of hiermont, named claude goddé, leaves this in no manner of doubt. he says: "the spaniards committed great outrages in picardy, as they did later in . these wars compelled the inhabitants of hiermont in to construct the quarry which we now see. this quarry or cavern, which is a great masterpiece, was first undertaken by five or six of the inhabitants "-- he gave their names. "they first of all dug out the entrance in , but owing to its having given way several times, had to be repaired, and was not completed till . the other inhabitants, seeing its great utility, wanted also to have their chambers, but they were not admitted unless they contributed to the cost of the undertaking, and to this they willingly agreed. this quarry was of great service to the inhabitants in the wars of louis xiv. against england, holland, and the empire during the years , , and , which were the days of marlborough. it was accordingly made by the inhabitants of hiermont, to hide themselves, their cattle, their grain and their furniture, to preserve them from pillage by the soldiers, whether of the enemy or french. each family had its own chamber." in a procès of , one of those interrogated, a nun named martha tondu, stated that at reneval and the neighbouring villages "the peasants are on the look out, and if alarmed, retire and conceal their cattle in ditches and quarries, without abandoning their houses or neglecting their agricultural work." some, accordingly, of these subterranean refuges are of comparatively late date; but this does not apply to all. at every period of danger, instinctively the peasants would take advantage of the nature of the chalk to form in it suitable hiding-places, and although some of the finds in these labyrinths are of recent date, others go back to the gallo-roman period. in the arras and cambrai chronicle of balderic ( ), we are told that in the fifth century in those parts a persecution of the christians occurred, on the invasion of the barbarians, and that the priests celebrated the divine mysteries in secret hiding-places. "many," he adds, "were suffocated in caves and in subterranean passages." there is, in fact, evidence both from archaeology and from history that these refuges were taken advantage of, and doubtless extended from a remote antiquity down to the eighteenth century. it was not against the foreign foe only that the peasants excavated their underground retreats. froissart paints the chivalry of his time in the brightest colours, and only here and there by a few touches lets us see what dark shadows set them off. who paid for the gay accoutrements of the knights? who were the real victims of the incessant wars? from whom came the ransom of king john and of the nobles taken at creçy and poitiers? from the peasant. the prisoners allowed to return on parole came to their territories to collect the sums demanded for their release, and the peasant had to find them. he had his cattle, his plough and tumbril. they were taken from him; no more corn was left him than enough to sow his field. he knew how he would be exploited, and he hid his precious grain that was to make bread for his wife and children. the seigneur endeavoured to extort from him the secret as to where it was concealed. he exposed the man's bare feet before the fire; he loaded him with chains. but the peasant bore fire and iron rather than reveal the hiding-place. here is michelet's account of the seigneur in the first half of the fifteenth century. "the seigneur only revisited his lands at the head of his soldiery to extort money by violence. he came down on them as a storm of hail. all hid at his approach. throughout his lands alarm resounded --it was a _sauve-qui-peut_. the seigneur is no longer a true seigneur; he is a rude captain, a barbarian, hardly even a christian. _Écorcheur_ is the true name for such, ruining what was already ruined, snatching the shirt off the back of him who had one; if he had but his skin, of that he was flayed. it would be a mistake to suppose that it was only the captains of the _écorcheurs_--the bastards, the seigneurs without a seigneurie, who showed themselves so ferocious. the grandees, the princes in these hideous wars, had acquired a strange taste for blood. what can one say when one sees jean de ligny, of the house of luxembourg, exercise his nephew, the count of saint-pol, a child of fifteen, in massacring those who fled? they treated their kinsfolk in the same manner as their enemies. for safety--better be a foe than a relation. the count d'harcourt kept his father prisoner all his life. the countess of foix poisoned her sister; the sire de gial his wife. the duke of brittany made his brother die of starvation, and that publicly; passers-by heard with a shudder the lamentable voice pleading piteously for a little bread. one evening, the th of january, the count adolphus of gueldres dragged his old father out of bed, drew him on foot, unshod, through the snow for five leagues to cast him finally into a moat. it was the same in all the great families of the period--in those of the low countries, in those of bar, verdun, armagnac, &c. the english had gone, but france was exterminating herself. the terrible miseries of the time find expression, feeble as yet, in the 'complaint of the poor commoner; and of the poor labourers.' it comprises a mixture of lamentations and threats; the starving wretches warn the church, the king, the burgesses, the merchants, the seigneurs above all, that 'fire is drawing nigh to their hostels.' they appeal to the king for help. but what could charles vii. do? how impose respect and obedience on so many daring men? where could he find the means to repress these flayers of the country, these terrible little kings of castles? they were his own captains. it was with their aid that he made war against the english." [footnote: _mist, de france,_ v. p. _et seq._] thus, the subterranean refuges that had served at one time as hiding- places against saracens, normans, english, became places of retreat for the wretched people against their own masters. they no longer carried their goods into the _souterrains_ under the castles, but into refuges contrived by themselves in the depths of forests, known only to themselves; hidden, above all, from their seigneurs. the peasantry might have said then, what was said long after by voltaire: "il faut être dans ce monde enclume ou marteau; j'étais né enclume." voltaire, however, speedily became a hammer, and after the tiers État also became a hammer, and the noblesse the anvil. in iceland there were underground retreats, as we learn from the same saga that tells us of those in aquitaine. orvar odd found a king's daughter concealed in one. so, also, a very large one in ireland is spoken of in the landnama bok. in england we have, both in essex and in kent, subterranean passages and chambers very similar to those described in picardy and in aquitaine. these also are excavated in the chalk. they are the so-called dene holes, of which there are many in darenth wood and near chislehurst, and they have given occasion to a lively controversy. some have supposed them to be retreats of the druids, some that they were places of refuge during the invasions of the saxons first, and then of the danes, and others again contend that they were merely quarries for the excavation of chalk to burn into lime. here is an account of the dene hole at chislehurst by mr. w. j. nichols. [footnote: nichols (w. j.), "the chislehurst caves," _journal of the archaeological association_, dec. .] "at the foot of the hill is a gap, which is the present entrance to the caves. a guide meets us here, who, unlocking a door, and switching on the electric light, introduces the visitor to a gallery or tunnel, about feet long, feet to feet high, and with a width of feet to feet, narrowing to about feet at the roof. this, and the galleries so far explored, have been cut through the chalk bed, at a depth of about feet below the thanet sand which covers it. at the end of the gallery, extending both right and left, are passages of like character. these again open into others so numerous that the visitor is fairly bewildered, and loses all idea of the direction in which he is travelling. the effect of the coloured electric lamps on the old chalk walling is remarkably beautiful. proceeding on our way we get beyond the range of the electric lamps. here candles or hand-lamps are lighted; and we pass, in cimmerian gloom, through a succession of galleries of various dimensions, some of which, being only feet wide and feet high, are possibly of earlier construction than those already described. there is one gallery of the last-mentioned height and width feet long, with several sharp turns which formerly terminated in a chamber about feet high and feet wide, and a like length, and near it is a seat cut into an angle of the walling. at no great distance from this chamber and near a dene-hole shaft is a short gallery, at the end of which is a shaft originally level with the flooring, but now bricked round and further protected by an iron cover. on removing the cover and lowering a lamp, a well of excellent workmanship is discovered. owing to the quantity of material thrown down from time to time by explorers, its present depth is no more than feet. further progress is made, and presently we notice a streak of daylight some distance ahead; here we find that we have reached the foot of a shaft feet deep, which, though now partly covered in, had its mouth in what is at the present time the garden of a modern villa." there are numerous other dene holes or danes' pits at east tilbury, crayford, and little thurrock. as to the theory that they were places of druidical worship, we may dismiss it as not deserving serious consideration. at east tilbury the entrance to the danes' pit is from above, by narrow passages that widen and communicate with several apartments, all of regular forms. one of these pits consists of a shaft descending to chambers arranged like a sixfoiled flower. the shaft is feet in diameter and feet deep. this may be likened to one at doué-la- fontaine (maine et loire), where a descent is made under a private house into an area from which radiate on all sides chambers, some of which contain tombs. that these dene holes were used as hiding-places when the sails of the danish vikings appeared on the horizon is probable enough, but originally they were chalk quarries--some very ancient--for british coins have been found in them. the existence of old lime-kilns near the chislehurst caves places their origin beyond a doubt. chalk was largely exported in early times from the thames to zealand, whence it was passed through the low countries and used in dressing the fields. altars to nethalennia, the patroness of the chalk quarries, have been found in the sand on the coast of zealand; some bear votive inscriptions from dealers in british chalk, and pliny, writing of the finer quality of chalk (_argentaria_) employed by silversmiths, obtained from pits sunk like wells, with narrow mouths, to the depth of a hundred feet, whence they branch out like the adits of mines, adds, "hoc maxime britannia utitur." [footnote: roach smith, _collectanea antiqua_, vi. p. , "british archæological assoc. journal," n.s., ix.-x. ( and ).] in cornwall, moreover, there are what are locally called _fogous_. these are either excavated in the rock with passages leading to the sea or to houses, or else they are built of stone slabs standing erect, parallel and covered with other slabs leading to chambers similarly constructed, and all buried under turf or sand. of the former description there is a very interesting example at porthcothan in s. ervan; of the latter the most remarkable is at trelowaren. the former may have been excavated by smugglers. an interesting account of the excavation of two caves at archerfield, in haddingtonshire, is given in the proceedings of the society of antiquaries of scotland for . both caves are natural, but one had been walled up in front, with a doorway and window and with oven; both had paved hearths in the centre, and there was evidence that they had been tenanted some time after the roman occupation of britain, as among the fragments of pottery found was some samian ware. it would appear that both had been inhabited simultaneously, but not consecutively, for a lengthy period, and no doubt can exist that they were mere rock refuges. in a note to the article we read: "on the coast of island magee (ireland) there is a cave, south of the gobbins, which has been frequently used as a place of refuge. so late as it was inhabited by outlaws, who constructed a kind of fortification at the entrance, the remains of which still exist." [footnote: cree (j. r.), "excavation of two caves," in "proceedings of the soc. of arch. of scotland," edin., , vol. xliii.] a cave in the isle of egg, one of the hebrides, has a very narrow entrance, through which one can creep only upon hands and knees, but it rises steeply within and soon becomes lofty, and runs into the bowels of the rock for feet. the stony, pebbly bottom of this cavern was for long strewn with the bones of men, women and children, the relics of the ancient inhabitants of, the island, two hundred in number, of whose destruction the following account is given. "the macdonalds, of the isle of egg, a people dependent on clanranald, had done some injury to the lord of macleod. the tradition of the isle says that it was by a personal attack on the chieftain, in which his back was broken; but that of the two other isles bears that the injury was offered by two or three of the macleods, who, landing upon egg and behaving insolently towards the islanders, were bound hand and foot, and turned adrift in a boat, which the winds safely conducted to skye. to avenge the offence given, macleod sailed with such a body of men as rendered resistance hopeless. the natives, fearing his vengeance, concealed themselves in the cavern; and, after strict search, the macleods went on board their galleys after doing what mischief they could, concluding the inhabitants had left the isle. but next morning they espied from their vessels a man upon the island, and immediately landing again, they traced his retreat by means of a light snow on the ground to the cavern. macleod then summoned the subterranean garrison, and demanded that the inhabitants who had offended him should be delivered up. this was peremptorily refused. the chieftain thereupon caused his people to divert the course of a rill of water, which, falling over the mouth of the cave, would have prevented his purposed vengeance. he then kindled at the entrance of the cavern a large fire, and maintained it until all within were destroyed by suffocation." [footnote: lockhart's "life of sir walter scott," edin., , p. .] a no less horrible deed was committed during the campaign of essex against the irish rebels in . this shall be given in the words of froude. [footnote: "hist. of england," , x. p. _et seq._] "on the coast of antrim, not far from the giant's causeway, lies the singular island of rathlin. it is formed of basaltic rock, encircled with precipices, and is accessible only at a single spot. it contains an area of about acres, of which a thousand are sheltered and capable of cultivation, the rest being heather and rock. the approach is at all times dangerous; the tide sets fiercely through the strait which divides the island from the mainland, and when the wind is from the west, the atlantic swell renders it impossible to land. the situation and the difficulty of access had thus long marked rathlin as a place of refuge for scotch or irish fugitives, and besides its natural strength it was respected as a sanctuary, having been the abode at one time of saint columba. a mass of broken masonry on a cliff overhanging the sea is a remnant of the castle, in which robert bruce watched the leap of the legendary spider. to this island, when essex entered antrim, macconnell and the other scots had sent their wives and children, their aged, and their sick, for safety. on his way through carrickfergus, when returning from dublin, the earl ascertained that they had not yet been brought back to their homes. the officer in command of the english garrison was john norris, lord norris's second son. three small frigates were in the harbour. the sea was smooth; there was a light and favourable air from the east; and essex directed norris to take a company of soldiers with him, cross over, and kill whatever he could find. the run up the antrim coast was rapidly and quietly accomplished. before an alarm could be given the english had landed, close to the ruins of the church that bears saint columba's name. bruce's castle was then standing, and was occupied by a detachment of scots, who were in charge of the women. but norris had brought cannon with him. the weak defences were speedily destroyed, and after a fierce assault, in which several of the garrison were killed, the chief who was in command offered to surrender if he and his people were allowed to return to scotland. the conditions were rejected; the scots yielded at discretion, and every living creature in the place, except the chief and his family, who were probably reserved for ransom, were immediately put to the sword. two hundred were killed in the castle. it was then discovered that several hundred more, chiefly mothers and their little ones, were hidden in the caves about the shore. there was no remorse--not even the faintest perception that the occasion called for it. they were hunted out as if they had been seals or otters, and all destroyed. surleyboy and the other chiefs, essex coolly wrote, 'stood upon the mainland of glynnes and saw the taking of the island, and was likely to have run mad for sorrow, tearing and tormenting himself, and saying that he had there lost all that ever he had.' according to essex's own account, six hundred were thus massacred. he described the incident as one of the exploits with which he was most satisfied; and queen elizabeth in answer to his letters bade him tell john norris, 'the executioner of his well-designed enterprise, that she would not be unmindful of his services.'" the neighbourhood of gortyna in crete has a mountain labyrinth, and during the revolt of the cretans against the turks in - , the christian inhabitants of the adjacent villages, for months together, lived in these caves, sallying forth by day to till their farms or gather in their crops, when it was safe so to do. none could approach within range of the muskets pointed from the loopholes at the entrance without being immediately shot down; nor could either fire or smoke suffocate or dislodge the inmates, as the caves have many openings. less happy were the christian refugees in the cave of melidoni. in , when hussein bey marched against the neighbouring village, the inhabitants, to the number of three hundred, fled to the cave, taking their valuables with them. hussein ordered a quantity of combustibles to be piled at the entrance and set on fire. the poor wretches within were all smothered. the turks waited a few days, and then entered and rifled the bodies. a week later, three natives of the village crept into the cavern to see what had become of their relatives. it is said that they were so overcome by the horror of what they witnessed, that two of them died within a few days. years after, the archbishop of crete blessed the cavern, and the bones of the victims of turkish barbarity were collected and buried in the outer hall, which has in its centre a lofty stalagmite reaching to the summit, and the walls on all sides are draped with stalactites. we must not pass over without a word the treatment of the arabs in algeria by the french troops, when general lamorcière suffocated the unfortunate refugees in the caves whither they had fled, in the same way as caesar's general had suffocated the gauls. chapter iv cliff refuges i have divided refuges into two classes--those that have been burrowed under the soil, and those that open in the face of a cliff. occasionally they run one into another, and yet they materially differ. the first have their entrances elaborately concealed, whereas the latter are bare to the face of day, and no concealment is possible or attempted. those who had recourse to the first trusted in being able, should the entrance be discovered or betrayed, to defend themselves by various devices, whereas those who resorted to the latter relied on their inaccessibility. where a cliff stood up precipitous or overhanging, and in its face gaped caverns, those who sought refuge in time of danger naturally looked to them, and contrived means of reaching them, therein to ensconce their goods and secure their persons. they might have to contemplate the devastation of their fields, and their farms burning, from their eyries, but they knew that their persons were safe. there were various ways by which these caves could be reached; one was by cutting notches in the face of the cliff for fingers and toes, so that it could be climbed to from below, but not accessible to an enemy exposed to the thrust of pikes, and to stones being cast down upon him. or else the notches were cut laterally from an accessible ledge, but if so, then this mode of approach was carefully guarded. a second method was by ladders, but as some of these caves are so high up that no single ladder could reach their mouths, a succession was contrived notched below and above into the rock where ledges either existed naturally or were contrived artificially, so as to enable the climber to step from one ladder to the next. in the event of danger the ladders could be withdrawn. a third method was by a windlass, rope and basket, and this was employed where the ascent by finger and toe notches was peculiarly perilous, for the conveyance of goods or of children and old people. but cattle had also to be saved from the depredators, and in some of the cliff refuges are stables for horses and cowstalls, with mangers and silos; places also where the windlass was fixed and there the sharp edge of the rock has been smoothed to an easy slope to facilitate the landing of the beasts, that were hauled up by bands placed under their bellies. provision was also made for the baking of bread and the storage of water, this latter in the same way as already described in the account of the contrivances for permanent rock- dwellings. these cliff refuges can have been had recourse to only on emergencies, on account of their inaccessibility. at cazelles in the commune of sireuil (dordogne) is a cliff feet long, and about feet high. it has been worn into a deep furrow some twenty or thirty feet from the top, horizontal and running its entire length. the whole cliff overhangs its base. the entire groove has been occupied as a refuge, and there have been excavations in the back of the groove for additional chambers. in front, moreover, there must have been a balcony of wood, sustained by beams and props. in three places the edge of the terrace has been cut through for the convenience of hauling up cattle and farm produce. at the time when this was in use there was a hamlet at the foot of the cliff, as is shown by the furrows cut in the rock into which the tile roofing was let, and notches for the reception of the roof timbers. no trace of a stair remains; in fact no stair could have been cut in the face of a rock that overhangs as does this. another very remarkable cliff-refuge is le peuch saint sour on the vézère. it is not mentioned in any chronicle as having been a resort of the english in the hundred years' war, and we may accordingly conclude that it was a refuge for the inhabitants of the hamlet at its feet. [illustration: la roche gageac. a town and castles on the dordogne, never captured by the english, but afterwards sacked and ruined by the huguenots.] [illustration: le peuch s. sour. a series of refuges in the face of the cliff. originally a place of retreat of s. sour, a hermit.] s. sorus or sour was a hermit, born about the year ; he set off with two companions, amandus and cyprian, to find a desert place where he might take up his abode. i will quote from the latin life. "all at once in their wanderings they arrived at a place in the midst of vast forests, and dens of wild beasts, a place so barren and abrupt, of access so difficult, that surely no one had ever hitherto ventured to reach it either to dwell there, or for pleasure, even to visit it for curiosity. a rock very lofty furnished him above with a shelter that sufficed; out of the flanks of the rock issued a spring and watered the little valley that was on the other side surrounded by the vézère." i think that it was in the peuch s. sour that the hermit settled, though afterwards through the favour of king gontram he moved to lands granted him at terrasson. and now for a story. here he resolved to live alone, and here he parted with his companions. but before they separated, "let us have a love feast together," said he. but he had with him only a bit of fat bacon. he divided it into three parts, and gave a share to each of his companions. now it was lent, and one of them was scandalized at the idea of eating bacon in lent, so he put the bit of meat into his bosom, where it was at once transformed into a serpent, which enwrapped him in its coils. terrified, he screamed to sour to deliver him, which the hermit did, and the monster was at once resolved into a bit of bacon. "eat it," said the hermit, "and remember that charity is above all rules." the description of the place so well accords with the peuch that bears his name, that i cannot doubt but that sour occupied for some years the cave high up in the cliff, and only to be reached by crawling to it sideways, holding on to the rock by fingers and toes. but afterwards it was greatly enlarged to serve as a place of retreat by the peasants of the hamlet below. it consists of three groups of chambers cut in the rock, one reached by a very long, forty-round ladder, when a chamber is entered which has a hole in the roof through which, by another ladder, one can mount to a whole series of chambers communicating one with another. the face of some of these was originally walled up. a second group is now inaccessible. a third is reached by climbing along the face of the cliff, with fingers and toes placed in niches cut in the cleft to receive them. [illustration: beginning of a gallery.] [illustration: the pick employed.] a recess at the foot of the crag, arched above, contains three perpendicular grooves. this was the beginning of another artificial cave, never completed, begun maybe in and suddenly abandoned, as the glad tidings rang through the land that the english had abandoned aquitaine and that the companies were disbanded. at the roc d'aucor, in the valley of the vers (lot), a gaping cave is visible far above where any ladder could reach and inaccessible by climbing from the top of the crag, as that overhangs like a wave about to break. nevertheless, athwart the opening are, and have been from time immemorial, two stout beams let into the rock horizontally. dimly visible in the depth of the cavern is some tall white figure, and the peasants declare that it is that of a man--a statue in marble, keeping guard over a golden calf. in , m. martel and three friends, taking with them armand, the trusty help in descending _avens_, pot-holes, and exploring the course of subterranean rivers, resolved on an attempt at the exploration of this mysterious cavern. the mouth is feet from the ground, and its floor is about feet from the summit of the cliff, [footnote: martel (a.), le réfuge du roc d'aucor, brive, .] which is crowned by the _oppidurn_ of murcens, the best preserved of all gaulish strongholds in france, and was held by the english in . the only possible way to obtain access to the interior would be from above, as the plumb-line let down from the summit fell feet wide from the base of the cliff. accordingly a rope ladder was attached to a tree on the top, and armand descended furnished with a plumb-line, the end of which was attached to a cord. "having descended feet, he swung free in the air at the level of the transverse poles. then he endeavoured to throw the lead-weight beyond one of the poles. he succeeded only after the seventh or eighth attempt, and was well pleased when the weight running over it swung down to our feet, as the position of the poles and the slope of the floor of the fissure did not allow it to rest in the cavern. 'pull the cord,' shouted armand. 'what for?' 'you will soon see. pull'--and speedily the string drew after it one of our stout ropes. 'now do you understand?' asked armand. 'i have fastened my rope ladder to the cord that goes over the pole. four or five of you pull and draw me in towards that pole, and so we shall get the better of the situation. when i have fixed the ladder to the pole you may all mount by the grand stair.'" by good fortune that beam held firm, and first armand got into the cave and then the others mounted from below. what made the entrance treacherous was that the floor at the orifice sloped rapidly downwards and outwards. when within, it was seen that the posts were still solid and firmly planted in notches cut in the rock on both sides. in line with them were two rows of similar notches for the reception of beams extending inwards for about twenty feet, as though at one time there had been rafters to divide the cave into two storeys, but of such rafters none remained. the back of the cave was occupied by a gleaming white stalagmitic column that certainly from below bore some resemblance to a human figure, but the floor of the cavern was so deep in birds' nests, and droppings of bats, leaves and branches, that it was not possible at the time to explore it. this, however, was done by m. martel in , but nothing of archaeological interest was found. however, he noticed a sort of ascending chimney that extended too far to be illumined to its extremity by the magnesium wire, and he conjectured that it extended to the surface of the rock above, where was the original entrance, now choked with earth and stone. but an investigation by m. a. viré has solved the mystery of how access was obtained to this refuge. the beams visible from below are, as already said, two in number. the upper and largest is square, and measures seven by eight inches. the lower is nearly round and is four inches in diameter, and shows distinct traces of having been fretted by a rope having passed over it. it must have been used for the drawing up of food or other objects likely to excite the cupidity of robbers and _routiers_. the number of notches for beams of a floor in the sides of the cave is remarkable, but no floor can have been erected there, otherwise it would not have rotted away, whilst the two cross- beams at the entrance remain sound. the chimney supposed by martel to communicate with the surface does not do so. spade work at the foot of the rock revealed the manner in which the cavern had been reached. a tradition existed in the vers valley that at one time there had been a tower at the foot of the rock, and old men remembered the removal of some of its ruins for the construction of a mill. by digging, the foundations of the tower were disclosed. it had been square and measured feet on each side. it had stood about feet high, and had been topped with a lean-to tiled roof resting against the uppermost beam in the cave and thereby masking it. [footnote: "le roc d'aucour," in _bulletin de la soc. des antiquaires de quercy_, cahors, , t. xxvi.] a somewhat similar cave is that of boundoulaou in the causse de larzac (lozère). although this has an opening in the face of the precipice, which is partly walled up, it can be entered from another and more accessible cave. at a considerably lower level flows a stream that at one time issued from it, but has worked its way downwards, and now gushes forth many feet below. however, apparently in times of heavy rain, the overflow did burst forth from the upper cavern, for in it were found the skeletons of a whole family that had perished on one such occasion. at nearly feet up the face of a sheer perpendicular cliff near milau is the cave of riou ferrand, feet below the brow of the precipice. the mouth of the grotto is partly blocked by a well- constructed wall. it has been entered from above and explored. it yields delicately fine pottery and a spindle-whorl, so that a woman must have taken refuge here, and here sat spinning and looking down from this dizzy height on the ruffians ravaging the valley below and setting fire to her house. bones of sheep and pigs in the cave showed that it had been tenanted for some time, and tiles of distinctly roman character indicated the period of its occupation. the only possible means of entering this cavern is, and was, by a rope or a ladder from above. [footnote: martel, _les abimes_, paris, .] i was in the valley of the célé in with my friend m. raymond pons, a daring explorer of _avens_ and caves. there was one cavern in a precipice on the left bank near brengues that showed tokens of having been a refuge, from having a pole across the entrance. m. pons obtained a stout rope, and the assistance of half-a-dozen peasants, and was let down over the brink, and by swinging succeeded in obtaining a foothold within. he there found evident traces of former occupation. but how was it entered and left in ancient times? from below it was quite inaccessible, and from above only by the means he employed--a rope. at les mées in the basses-alpes is a very similar cave, with two beams across fastened at the ends into the rock, which is a conglomerate, at the height of feet, and quite inaccessible. they are mentioned by the historian bartel in as inexplicable by him, and by the residents in the place. a not less perplexing rock shelter is that of fadarelles in the gorges of the tarn. of this m. martel writes: "in a superb cliff of dolomitic limestone of the _cirque_ of the beaumes chauds, m. l'abbé solanet was good enough to conduct me beneath the baume des fadarelles, a chasm inaccessible, at the height of something like feet in the face of the precipice, something like the openings of boundoulaou, but much narrower. "in it one can see three coarse beams or rather trunks of trees from which the boughs have been cut away, each about feet long. as this opening might well have been that of discharge of a stream, now choked, for the baumes chauds and its adjoining fissures, one is led at first to suppose that water had brought down these logs that had fallen into some pot-hole. but this hypothesis is untenable, for it can be seen that these poles have been artificially pointed at each end, and that they have been made firm by cross pieces of metal, either bronze or iron. this may be the remains of a roof or a floor destined to supplement the insufficiency of the overhanging rock--and of the size of the fissure, so as to convert it into some sort of shelter. to study the matter, a ladder of nearly feet would be needed (to be let down from above). in the absence of all tradition, these beams of les fadarelles remain a mystery. as the face of the cliff is absolutely smooth above the opening, below and on both sides, completely devoid of anything like a ledge by which access could be obtained to it, the question presents itself to one for the third time, as at boundoulaou and at riou ferrand, were these cliff-dwellers in the causses like those in the cañon of colorado, or has the demolition of ledges by weather on these limestone cliffs proceeded with great rapidity?" two apparently inaccessible caves, that have been the habitation of man as a temporary refuge, and that have been explored by m. philibert lalande, show that there was a way in which some, though by no means all, were reached. the grottoes of puy labrousse near brive, comprising five or six chambers, have isolated from the rest one that opens in the face of a sheer precipice at a considerable height above the valley. it can be entered only from behind, by a very small oval opening, preceded by a gallery very narrow, and masked at the entrance by enormous rocks, and which could be barricaded by stout beams, hollows for the reception of which are visible. the other is at soulier-de-chasteaux on the couze, an affluent of the vézère. here are two caverns excavated by the hand of man. the most curious is on the right bank near the top of a jurassic cliff that is absolutely precipitous, and this also can be entered _a retro_. a narrow path leads to an opening very small, excavated in the vault of the cavern, through which a man could squeeze himself so as to descend into it by means of a ladder. the gaping mouth of this grotto, which is from to feet square, is in part closed by a breastwork of stone. below this cave is a very large shelter cut out square-headed in the cliff, but not deep; and this is used by the peasants of soulier as a place for stacking their hay. square hollows wrought in the rock show that formerly some building was accommodated to it, and the roof ran back under it. in auvergne are many _souterrains_ that have served as places of concealment in times of war. the puy de clierson occupies the centre of an area of four volcanoes. it is shaped like a bell, the slopes are covered with brushwood, and a ring of broken rocks forms the precipitous wall of the circular and flattish cap. the hill is composed of trachyte, and the upper portion is perforated in all directions by galleries and vaults that served formerly as a quarry for the extraction of stone of which the romans formed their sarcophagi, in consequence of its powers of absorption of the moisture exuding from the bodies laid in their stone chests. the same may be said of le grand sarcoui, shaped like a kettle turned bottom upwards. in some of the galleries are unfinished sarcophagi. but although originally quarries, they were used as refuges in later times. at corent, on the allier near veyre-mouton, are refuges in caves, so also at blot-l'eglise near menat, which served the purpose during the troubles of the league. meschers is a village in charante inférieure, lying in the lap of a chalk hill that extends to a bluff above the gironde. this cliff is honeycombed with caves, excavated perhaps originally as quarries, but several certainly served as habitations; the several chambers or dwellings are reached by a ledge running along the face of the cliff, but the chambers of each particular cave-house have doors of intercommunication cut through this rock. the grottes de meschers are said to have been used by the huguenots at a time when it was perilous to assemble in a house for preaching or psalm-singing. but it is also quite possible that they served as refuges as well to the catholics, when the calvinists had the upper hand; as, indeed, they had for long. their attempts at proselytising was not with velvet gloves, but with fire-brand, sword, and the hangman's rope. in that horrible period, exceeding far in barbarity that of the _routiers_ in the hundred years' war, it is hard to decide on which side the worst atrocities were committed. [illustration: caves of meschers. in these caves overlooking the atlantic, the huguenot refugees congregated to hear their preachers. during the revolution and reign of terror they were occupied by priests and royalists.] [illustration: cave refuge at soulier de chasteau, carreze. this refuge is accessible by a secret way opening on to the plateau above. below are indications of buildings having been constructed against, and in part into the rock.] later still, in the reign of terror, the grottoes may have harboured priests and nobles hiding for their lives. but now they shelter none but the peaceful dreamer, who sits there at eventide looking out over the yellow waters of the gironde, ever agitated by the tide, at the setting sun that sends shafts of fire into these recesses--and sets him wishing that the light would reveal the details of tragic stories connected with these caves. in the department of ariège are a vast number of natural caverns, many of which have served as places of retreat for the albigenses. between tarascon and cabannes are some that were defended by crenellated walls, and are supposed to date from the wars of religion, but probably go back beyond the time of the english occupation. it is also said that the huguenots met in them for their assemblies. in the country they go by the name of _gleizetos_, or _petites eglises_. they are found on the left bank of the ariège. in the fourth century the priscillianist heretics expelled from spain settled in the mountains on the north slope of the pyrenees, and propagated their doctrines throughout the country and among the population more than half pagan, and this explains the spread of albigensian manichaeism later. in the vandals, suevi and alani, during three years in succession swept the country, committing frightful ravages, as they passed on their way into spain; and no doubt can be entertained that at this time the numerous grottoes were used by the natives as refuges. in there was another influx of barbarians, this time visigoths; their king walla made toulouse his capital, and gave over two-thirds of the land to his followers. after the battle of voulon, in , clovis took possession of toulouse. in the saracens poured through the gaps in the pyrenees, occupied the basin of the ariège, and destroyed the city of couserans. in more arrived in a veritable invasion of multitudes, and ravaged all the south of france. again the caves served their end as places of hiding. the south of france, rich and dissolute, was steeped in heresy. this heresy was a compound of priscillianism, the dualism of manes, oriental and gnostic fancies, gothic arianism, and indigenous superstition, all fused together in what was known as albigensianism, and which was hardly christian even in name. the terrible and remorseless extermination of these unfortunate people, who knew no better, by order of innocent iii. and john xxiii., presents one of the most horrible passages in history. the country reeked with the smoke of pyres at which the heretics were burnt, and was drenched with their blood. in their last stronghold, the montsegur, was taken, when two hundred of them were burnt alive. only some few who had concealed themselves in the dens and caves of the earth survived this terrible time. the last heard of them is in , when some of the proscribed took refuge in the grottoes of lombrive, when or were walled in and starved to death, as already related. in derbyshire are numerous caves--at castleton, bradwell eyam, matlock, and buxton--but they are all natural, except such as are old mine- workings. poole's hole, the buxton cavern, may be traced underground for the distance of something like half a mile. it is now lighted with gas, its inner ways have been made smooth, and it is even possible for invalids in bath-chairs to enter. but it was at one time the haunt of an outlaw named poole, in the reign of henry iv., who made it his home, and here accumulated his stores. but it was inhabited long before his time, and proves to have been a prehistoric dwelling-place, and was later occupied by the romans. reynard's cave is high up on the derbyshire side of dove dale, and the way to it is steep and dangerous. it is approached through a natural archway in a sheer cliff of limestone, about feet wide and twice as high, beyond which a difficult pathway gives access to the cave itself. near it is a smaller cavity, called reynard's kitchen. this cavern has undoubtedly served as a shelter, it is said, to persecuted royalists. here it was that the dean of clogher, mr. langton, lost his life a century ago. he foolishly tried to ride his horse up the steep side of the dale to the cave, and carry a young lady, miss la roche, behind him. the horse lost its foothold among the loose stones, and the rash equestrian fell. the dean died two days afterwards, but the young lady recovered, saved by her hair having caught in the thorns of a bramble bush. high up, among the rocks on the staffordshire side in a most secluded spot, is a cleft called cotton's cave, which extends something like feet within the rock. here it was that charles cotton, the careless, impecunious poet, the friend of isaac walton, was wont to conceal himself from his creditors. on the top of lovers' leap, a sheer precipice, is what was once a garden where the two anglers sat and smoked their pipes. close by is an ancient watch-tower, from which was seen cotton's wife's beacon-fire lit to announce to him that the coast was clear of duns, and to light him home in the black nights of winter. thor's cave is in a lofty rock on the manifold river. the cliff rises to an altitude of four or five hundred feet, terminating in a bold and lofty peak; and the cave is situated about half-way up the face of the precipice. the cave is arched at the entrance, a black yawning mouth in the white face of the limestone. it is a natural phenomenon, but appears to have been enlarged by cave-dwellers. it has been explored by a local antiquary, and has yielded evidence of having been inhabited from prehistoric times. the name of thor's cavern carries us back to the time when the norsemen occupied deira and derbyshire, and jordas cave in yorkshire does the same--for the name signifies an earth-giant. in the crevices of bottor rock in hennock, devon, john cann, a royalist, found refuge. he had made himself peculiarly obnoxious to the roundheads at bovey tracey, and here he lay concealed, and provisions were secretly conveyed to him. here also he hid his treasure. a path is pointed out, trodden by him at night as he paced to and fro. he was at last tracked by bloodhounds to his hiding-place, seized, carried to exeter and hanged. his treasure has never been recovered, and his spirit still walks the rocks. at sheep's tor, where is now the reservoir of the plymouth waterworks, may be seen by the side of the sheet of water the ruins of the ancient mansion of the elfords. the tor of granite towers above the village. among the rocks near the summit is a cave in which an old squire elford was concealed when the parliamentary troopers were in search of him. polwheel in his "devon" mentions it. "here, i am informed, elford used to hide himself from the search of cromwell's party, to whom he was obnoxious. hence he could command the whole country, and having some talent for painting, he amused himself with that art on the walls of his cavern, which i have been told by an elderly gentleman who had visited the place was very fresh in his time." none of the paintings now remain on the sides of the rock. the cave is formed by two slabs of granite resting against each other. it is only about feet long, wide, and feet high, and is entered by a very narrow opening. chapter v cliff castles. the routiers from a very early period in the middle ages--in fact from the dissolution of the carlovingian dynasty--we find communities everywhere grouped about a centre, and that centre the residence of the feudal chief to whom the members of the community owed allegiance and paid certain dues, in exchange for which he undertook to protect his vassals from robbery and outrage. by the edict of mersen, in , every freeman was suffered to choose his own lord, whether the king or one of his vassals, and no vassal of the king was required to follow him in war, unless against a foreign enemy. consequently the subjects were able to make merchandise of their obedience. in civil broils the king was disarmed, helpless; and as he was incapable of defending the weak against their oppressors, the feeble banded themselves under any lord who could assure them of protection. the sole token that the great nobles showed of vassalage to the crown was that they dated their charters by the year of the sovereign's reign. as the security of the community depended on the security of the seigneur, it behoved that his residence should be made inexpugnable. to this end, where possible, a projecting tongue of land or an isolated hill was selected and rendered secure by cutting through any neck that connected it with other high ground, or by carving the sides into precipices. like a race of eagles, these lords dwelt on the top of the rocks, and their vassals crouched at their feet. but although the dues paid to a seigneur were fixed by custom, it not infrequently happened that the receipts were inadequate to his wants. he had to maintain armed men to guard his castle and his tenants, and these armed men had to be paid and kept in good humour. the lord accordingly was disposed to increase the burdens laid on his serfs, and that to such an extent as to drive them into revolt. he on his part was not unaware of the fact that he held a wolf by the ears, and his impregnable position was chosen not solely as a defence against foreign enemies, but also against his rebellious vassals. the village of les eyzies is dominated by the ruins of a castle of the tenth or eleventh century, that was restored in the fifteenth, when a graceful turret was added. the keep is planted on a precipitous rock, and rises to the overhanging roof of chalk that is pierced with rafter- holes for the reception of roof beams, and with openings only to be reached by ladders leading to caves that served as storehouses. at the junction of the beune with the vézère, a little further down is a rock standing by itself, shaped like a gigantic fungus. this is called the roche de la peine, as from the top of it the sieur de beynac, who was also lord of les eyzies, precipitated malefactors. but under that designation he was disposed to reckon all such as in any way offended him. in the sieur, to punish two of his peasant vassals who had committed a trifling offence, killed one, and dragged the other over stones, attached to the tail of his horse. this act of barbarity roused public indignation, and a deputation waited on the seneschal of perigord to demand retribution. but having received no satisfaction from this officer, in , the peasants took the matter into their own hands, revolted and besieged the castle. as they failed to take it, they turned on the property of the seigneur, tore up his vines, cut down his woods, and burnt his granges. the incessant wars that swept france, its dismemberment into duchies and counties and seigneuries, practically independent, and above all the english domination in guyenne for three hundred years, enabled the petty nobles to shake off the very semblance of submission to their liege lords, and to prosecute their private feuds without hindrance. after poitiers, , and the captivity of king john, anarchy reigned in the land; bands of plunderers ranged to and fro, threatening persons and ravaging lands; and the magistrates could not, or would not, exercise their authority. local quarrels among rival landowners, the turbulent and brutal passions of the castle-holders, filled the land with violence and spread universal misery, from which there seemed to be no escape, as against the wrongdoers there was no redress. after the treaty of bretigny in , aquitaine ceased to be a french fief, and was exalted in the interests of the king of england into an independent sovereignty, together with the provinces of poitou, the saintonge, aunis, agenois, perigord, limousin, quercy, bigorre, angoumois and rouergue, greatly to the dissatisfaction of the people, who remonstrated against being handed over to a foreign lord. charles v. and charles vii. sought on every available occasion to escape from its obligations, and the towns were in periodic revolt. william de nangis says of the condition of the country under charles v.: "there was not in anjou, in touraine, in beauce, in orleans, and up to the very approaches of paris, any corner of the country that was free from plunderers. they were so numerous everywhere, either in little castles occupied by them, or in villages and the countryside, that peasants and tradesmen could not travel except at great expense and in mighty peril. the very guards told off to protect the cultivators of the soil and the travellers on the highways, most shamefully took part in harassing and despoiling them. it was the same in burgundy and the neighbouring countries. some knights who called themselves friends of the king, whose names i am not minded to set down here, kept brigands in their service, who were every whit as bad. what is more strange is that, when these ruffians went into the cities, paris, or anywhere else, everybody knew them and pointed them out, but none durst lay hands on them." the condition of germany was but little superior to that of france. the central authority, if that can be called central which was always shifting its position, was unequal to restrain the violent. its pretensions were in inverse proportion to its efficiency. the emperor was too far off to see to the policing of the empire, too weak to enforce order; and his long absences in italy left the german lords and lordlings to pursue their own courses unrestrained. when the emperor frederick barbarossa visited the baron van kingen in his castle near constance, the freiherr received him seated, because, as he said, he held his lands in fee of none but the sun. although he was willing to receive the emperor as a guest, he refused to acknowledge him as his lord. if this was the temper of the petty nobility in a green tree, what must it have been in the dry. after that the great houses of saxony and swabia had been crushed out by the policy of the papacy, it was to the interest of the electors to keep the emperor weak; and the fact that the imperial crown was elective enabled the electors to sell their votes for extended privileges. at last, against the raids of the petty nobles, whom the emperor could not control, the cities leagued together, took the matter in hand, attacked the fortresses, levelled them and gave to the inmates short shrift, a halter and a tree. in italy the towns proceeded in a less summary manner. surrounded as they were on all sides by a serried rank of castles, where the nobles held undisputed sway over their serfs and controlled the arteries of trade, the cities were compelled to proceed against them; but instead of sending them to the gallows, they contented themselves with forcing them to take up their residence within the town walls. but though the feudal lordship of these nobles had been destroyed, their opulence, their lands, the prestige of their names remained untouched, and in place of disturbing the roads they filled the streets with riot. they reared in the towns those wonderful towers that we still see at bologna, san gemigniano, savona, &c. "from the eighth to the thirteenth century," says ruskin, "there was little change in the form;--four- square, rising high and without tapering into the air, storey above storey, they stood like giants beside the piles of the basilicas and the lombardic churches... their ruins still frown along the crests of every promontory of the apennines, and are seen from far away in the great lombard plain, from distances of half a day's journey, dark against the amber sky of the horizon." [footnote: lectures on architecture, .] i propose dividing my subject of cliff castles into four heads:-- . those that were seigneural strongholds. . those that with castle and town occupied a rock. . the fastnesses of the _routiers_, the companies in the hundred years' war. . outpost stations guarding fords, roads into a town, and passes into a country. and i shall begin with no. --the castles of the _routiers_. the face of a country is like that of a woman. it tells the story of its past. the many-windowed english mansion sleeping among turfy lawns to the plash of a fountain, and the cawing of rooks in the beechwood, tell of a tranquil past life-record broken only by transient unrest; whereas the towers on the continent with their _meurtrières_ and frowning machicolations, bristling on every hill, frequent as church spires, now gutted and ruinous, proclaim a protracted reign of oppression and then a sudden upheaval in resentment and a firebrand applied to them all. the old english mansion has its cellars, but never an _oubliette_, its porch-door always open to welcome a neighbour and to relieve the indigent. it was not insulated by a dyke, and its doors clenched with a portcullis. the spoils of the chase were not a drove of "lifted" cattle taken from a peasant left stark upon his threshold, but foxes' masks and the antlers of deer. the pigeons coo about the english gables and the peacock dreams in the sun on the balustrade of the terrace, as in past centuries, but the castle of the french noble and the burg of the german ritter are given over to the bats and owls, and are quarries whence the peasants pick out the heraldic carvings for the construction of their pig-styes. nowhere did tears so stain and furrow the face of the land as in that portion of france that was ceded to england. de quincey says: "within fifty years in three pitched battles that resounded to the ends of the earth, the chivalry of france had been exterminated. her oriflamme had been dragged through the dust. the eldest son of baptism had been prostrated. the daughter of france had been surrendered on coercion as a bride to her english conqueror. the child of that marriage, so ignominious to the land, was king of france by the consent of christendom; that child's uncle domineered as regent of france; and that child's armies were in military possession of the land. but were they undisputed masters? no!--under a perfect conquest there would have been repose; whereas the presence of the english armies did but furnish a plea, making strong in patriotism, for gathering everywhere of lawless marauders, of soldiers that had deserted their banners, and of robbers by profession. this was the woe of france more even than the military dishonour." [footnote: essay on charles lamb.] the hundred years' war, that has left ineffaceable traces in the south of france, began in before the conclusion of the treaty of bretigny, which was in , and it lasted till --over a century, though not without interruption; and it desolated the fields of perigord, quercy, and to a less degree rouergue and the limousin, and wrought havoc to the gates of paris. the close of the fourteenth century saw no hope anywhere, only gathering storms. in france, to the prudent charles v. succeeded the mad fool charles vi. in england the strong king edward iii. was followed by the incompetent richard ii. in germany the emperor charles iv., a statesman, had as his successor the drunken sot wenceslas. in england the wars of the roses were looming in the future. agincourt proved more disastrous to england than to france. there was hopeless turmoil everywhere. as luther said when a somewhat similar condition existed in germany--"god, tiring of the game, has thrown the cards on the table." in france the free companies ran riot unrestrained. about them one word. the engagement of mercenaries in the war between england and france had begun early. as michelet says: "the population of the north saw appear among them mercenary soldiers, the _routiers_, for the most part in the service of england. some came from brabant, some from aquitaine; the basque marcader was one of the principal lieutenants of richard coeur-de-lion. the mountaineers of the south, who to-day descend into france and spain to gain a little money by huxtering, did so in the middle ages, but then, their sole industry was war. they maltreated priests as they did peasants, dressed their wives in consecrated vestments, beat the clergy, and made them sing mass in mockery. it was also one of their amusements to defile and break the images of christ, to smash the legs and arms, treating him worse than did the jews. these _routiers_ were dear to the princes precisely on account of their impiety, which rendered them insensible to ecclesiastical censures." [footnote: _histoire de france_, ii. p. . the first to introduce them was henry courtmantel when he rebelled against his father. on his death in they disbanded, and then reunited under elected captains, and pillaged the country.] from to was the period of the crusade against the albigenses. pope innocent iii. poured over that beautiful land in the south of france--beautiful as the garden of god--a horde of ruffians, made up of the riffraff of europe, summoned to murder, pillage and outrage, with the promise of heaven as their reward. after committing atrocities such as people hell, these scoundrels, despising the religion they had been summoned to defend, with every spark of humanity extinguished in their breasts, looked about for fresh mischief, and found it, by enrolling themselves under the banner of england; their tiger cubs grew up with the lust of blood and rapine that had possessed their fathers. generation after generation of these fiends in human form ranged over the soil of france committing intolerable havoc. a carpenter of le puy formed an association for the extermination of these bands. philip augustus encouraged him, furnished troops, and in one day slaughtered ten thousand of them. but so long as the english claim on so large a portion of the soil of france was maintained, the bands were incessantly recruited. the french king hired them as well as the king of england. so, later, did the popes, when they quitted avignon, and by their aid recovered the patrimony of s. peter. the barons and seigneurs in the south were no better than the _routiers_. they transferred their allegiance from the leopards to the lilies, or _vice versâ_, as suited their caprices. the sieur de pons went over to the side of france because he quarrelled with his wife, who was ardent on the english side. the local nobility helped the _routiers_, and the _routiers_ assisted them in their private feuds. the knights of the fourteenth century were no longer the protectors of the weak, the redressers of wrongs, loyal to their liege lords, observers of their oaths. they had reversed the laws of chivalry. their main function was the oppression of the weak. they forswore themselves without scruple. the sire d'aubrecicourt plundered and slaughtered at random _pour meriter de sa dame_, isabella de juliers, niece of the queen of england, "for he was young and outrageously in love." the brother of the king of navarre plundered like the rest. when the nobles sold safe-conducts to the merchants who victualled the towns, they excepted such articles as might suit themselves--silks, harness, plate. a prince of the blood sent as hostage to england returned to france in defiance of treaties, and if king john surrendered himself, it was because of the ease and pleasures he enjoyed in london, and to be rid of cares. the name given to the companies in the south was raobadous (ribauds)--the very name has come to us under the form of _ribald_, as indicative of all that is brutal, profane, and unseemly. among the commanders very few were english. there was the welshman griffith, whom froissart calls ruffin, who ravaged the country between the seine and the loire. sir robert knollys, or knolles, led a band of english and navarrese, "conquering every town and castle he came to. he had followed this trade for some time, and by it gained upwards of , crowns. he kept a great many soldiers in his pay; and being very liberal, was cheerfully obeyed." so says froissart. sir robert cheney was another; so was sir john amery. sir john hawkwood was taken into the service of pope gregory xi., and sent to ravage in italy. bacon, a notorious brigand, may or may not have been english. the name is common in lower brittany. "this robber," says froissart, "was always mounted on handsome horses of a deep roan colour, apparelled like an earl, and very richly armed." but usually the free companies enrolled themselves under some bastard (bourg) of a noble house in france or guyenne. it was a bastard warfare on their side; they stood in the same relation to the regular forces that privateers do to a fleet of the royal navy. they paid no regard to treaties. as the bourg d'espaign told froissart: "the treaty of peace being concluded, it was necessary for all men-at-arms and free companies, according to the treaty, to evacuate the fortresses and castles they held. great numbers collected together, with many poor companions who had learnt the art of war under different commanders, to hold councils as to what quarters they should march, and they said among themselves that, though the kings had made peace with each other, it was necessary for them to live. they marched into burgundy, where they had captains of all nations--germans, scots, and people from every country--'and they agreed to disregard the treaty and to surprise towns and castles as before.' a notorious breton captain on his deathbed said: 'such has been my manner of carrying on war, in truth, i cared not against whom. i did indeed make it under shadow of the king of england's name, in preference to any other; but i always looked for gain and conquest, wherever it was to be had.'" when they captured a town or castle, nominally for the english, they were quite ready to sell it to the french for a stipulated sum. froissart says that the ribauds were "germans, brabantines, flemings, gascons, and bad frenchmen, who had been impoverished by the war" (i. c. ). he gives in one place the names of twenty of these captains, not one english. [footnote: robert king of puy guihbem was an englishman, but an authorised governor and commander under the english crown.] in another place he enumerates ten, all french or gascons (ii. c. ). among those who harassed the languedoc, quercy and perigord, not a single captain was english. the bastard de beby, the bastard d'albret, amadeu de pons, benezet daguda, de l'esparre, menard de favas, l'archipretre, bertrand de la salle, le non de mauroux, jean l'esclop, nolibarba, bertrand de besserat, perrot de savoie, ramonet del sort, and a score more, all base french or gascon names. "these brigands," says lacoste, "were mainly composed of french soldiers to whom the state had been unable to pay their wages." one whole company was entitled that "des bretons." but it was not the captains of the companies alone who were gascons, french, and bretons. the nobles throughout guyenne were more than half of them on the english side. the famous commander who did so much towards achieving the victory of poitiers was a frenchman, the captal de buch, jean de greuilly, constable of aquitaine for the english crown. amandeu and raymond de montaut, the sire de duras, petiton de courton, jean de seignol, the sire de mussidan, and many more. "following their interests or their passions, all these nobles passed from side to side, now that of the english, then that of the french; but they preferred the english side to the other, for war against the french is more pleasant than that against the english,"--that is to say, it was more profitable. the _livre de vie_ of bergerac under the date th april , speaks of perducat d'albret as "loyally french." but his loyalty lasted but for a moment. froissart has a characteristic passage upon the gascons that deserves quotation. after giving a list of towns and castles on the garonne and the dordogne, he says: "some of these being english, and others french, carried on a war against each other; they would have it so, for the gascons were never, for thirty years running, steadily attached to any one lord. i once heard the lord d'albret use an expression that i noted down. a knight from brittany inquired after his health, and how he managed to remain steady to the french. he answered, 'thank god my health is good, but i had more money at command, as well as my people, when i made war for the king of england, than i have now; for, whenever we took any excursions in search of adventures, we never failed meeting some rich merchants from toulouse, condom, la réole, or bergerac, whom we squeezed, which made us gay and debonair, but now all that is at an end.' on hearing this i concluded that the lord d'albret repented having turned to the french in the same manner as the lord of mucidens, who swore to the duke of anjou he would set out for paris and become a good frenchman. he did go to paris, when the king handsomely received him; but he slunk away and returned to his own country, where he again became an englishman, and broke all his engagements with the duke of anjou. the lords of rosem, duras, langurant, did the same" (iii. c. ). as with the captains of the companies, so with the knights and seigneurs who fought in the south for the crown of england--their names are for the most part french and gascon, and not english. [footnote: let it not be forgotten that those who condemned joan of arc to be burnt were frenchmen. the university of paris denounced her as a heretic. her judges were the bishop of beauvais, a frenchman by birth, jean graveraut, professor of theology at the university of paris, grand inquisitor of france, jean lemaitre, prior of the dominicans at rouen. her bitterest accuser was the canon jean d'estivet, general procurator, who after the execution drowned himself in a pool. the bastard of vendôme sold her to john of luxembourg, and john of luxembourg sold her to the english for , francs. charles vii. and his friends did not raise a finger in her behalf. they forgot her at once, as a thing that had answered its purpose and was no longer of use.] the companies formed their nests in the rocks, which they fortified, or in castles they had captured, or in such as had been abandoned by the french, from inability to garrison them. the causse was in their possession from the dordogne to the lot, and perigord to the gates of the capital. they overran auvergne, the gevaudan, poitou, the angoumois, the rouergue and the saintonge, to speak only of provinces south of the loire. the government exhibited incredible feebleness towards them. in the count d'armagnac, royal lieutenant in the south, paid , francs to one of the _routiers_ to evacuate the castle of carlat, and , to the bastard of albret for five others. in he convened an assembly of the states of auvergne, velay, gevaudan, rouergue, quercy, &c., to debate what was to be done to rid the country of these pests. instead of resolving on an united effort to put them down by force of arms, they agreed to pay them , francs to quit. they took the money, but remained. every town, every village was forced to come to terms with the brigands, by means of a _patis_ or convention to pay a certain sum annually, to save it from pillage. should the covenanted money not be forthcoming to the day, the place was sacked and burnt. at length the inhabitants, unable to endure the exaction of the _routiers_ on one side and those of the king and the seigneurs on the other, migrated to spain and never returned. in , as all the inhabitants of caudon had crossed the frontier, the curé applied to have his cure united to that of domme. he had no parishioners left. domme had been reduced from a thousand families to a hundred and twenty, and these would have abandoned their homes unless stopped by the seneschal of perigord. in the inhabitants of temniac and carlux began to pack their goods for leaving, but the citizens of sarlat stopped them, by promising to feed them till the conclusion of the war. some of the large towns had lost so many of their citizens that they were glad to receive peasants out of the country and enrol them as burgesses. in , as the causse of quercy was almost denuded of its population and nothing remained to be reaped, the companies abandoned it for the rouergue, the gevaudan and the limousin and upper auvergne. thence the wretched peasants fled to the deserted limestone causse of quercy and occupied the abandoned villages and farms. they obtained but a short respite, for in the companies returned to their former quarters. charles vi. imposed a heavy tax on the whole kingdom to enable him to carry on the war against the english. but quercy was wholly unable to meet the demands, and the king, in a letter dated the last day of february , gives a graphic account of the condition to which the land had been reduced. "whereas, this land, at the time when it passed under the obedience of the king of england, was the richest and most populous in all the duchy of guyenne, and contained the finest cities, towns, and castles and fortresses in the said duchy, which were free and quit of all taxes and imposts, and with privileges conferred on them and confirmed by the king of france when they shook off the english yoke; and the said land of quercy, after having returned to its legitimate sovereigns, has testified to them the greatest loyalty; yet have its inhabitants been grievously injured, assailed, beaten, robbed, pillaged, imprisoned, killed, maltreated by the english in divers ways, which enemies have since taken and occupied the greater part of the finest towns and fortresses of the land; on which account the land of quercy has since continued in a condition of mortal warfare with the said enemies for the space of fifty-five years; and this carried on without aid from us, or from any one:--this unfortunate land has resisted to the utmost of its powers and is doing so still; and it has been surrounded for long by our said enemies, and is as it were destroyed and uninhabitable, and the greater number of its towns, castles, and strongholds have become desert and wild, covered with forest and scrub, inhabited by wild beasts, with the exception of some few small places that are very poor and miserable, and though at one time they were great and rich, they have been to such an extent depopulated--partly through the war and partly through pestilences that have ensued--there are now hardly one hundredth part of the people remaining, and those who do remain are but poor labourers and men of servile class; and these are kept night and day harassed by watching against enemies, and yet are compelled to buy them off with _patis_ and pensions, so that the greater portion of their substance is consumed in this way;--therefore, &c." [illustration: le dÉfilÉ des anglais, lot. a fortress of the english commanding the road to cahors. several chambers are excavated out of the rock.] in the english were driven out of guyenne, but a fresh attempt to recover it was made, that ended in the defeat and death of talbot, in . the companies had then to dissolve. out of a thousand churches in quercy but four hundred were in condition for the celebration of divine service; many had been converted into fortresses. most of the little towns in upper quercy had lost the major portion of their inhabitants; the villages were void of inhabitants. none knew who were the heirs to the deserted houses and untilled fields. [footnote: "agros atque lares proprios, habitandaque fana apres reliquit, et rapacibus lupis, ire, pedes quocunque ferent," --horace, _epod. od._, .] an emigration from limousin and the rouergue was called for to repeople the waste places. grammat, that had been a thriving town, in was left with only five inhabitants, lavergne with but three. lhern, once a flourishing place, was absolutely desert, the fields covered with briars and thorns, not one house tenanted, and in the church a she-wolf had littered her cubs. throughout the country can be distinguished the churches built when the war was over--quadrangular structures, without ornament. two of the strongest fortresses held by the english in perigord were bigaroque and the roc de tayac. the former belonged to the archbishop of bordeaux, staunch in his adhesion to the english cause, and he placed a garrison in it. the french did not attempt a siege, but in they raised a large sum in the neighbourhood and bought the garrison out. either they culpably neglected to place troops in it, or were too weak to do so, and in the english reoccupied it without a blow, and made it a centre whence they pillaged the country up to . in the constable of france, however, laid siege to it and the garrison capitulated, on condition that all prisoners taken by the french should be set free. the french then demolished the fortifications, but did this so inefficiently that in the english had again established themselves therein. it was not recovered by the french till ; somewhat later the companies disbanded, and then they so completely destroyed the fortress that of it nothing now remains. the other stronghold was the rock of tayac. the white cliff streaked with black tears rises to the height of feet, and is precipitous. throughout the whole length it is lined and notched and perforated, showing tokens of having been a combination of cliff caves, and wooden galleries, connecting the caves, as also of structures at the base of the crag. these latter have disappeared, having been torn down when the castle was demolished, but the indications of the roofs remain. there were several storeys in the fortress. in one cave is a stable reached by a ladder, also a well that was driven from an upper cavern through the roof of the stable and through its floor to the level of the river. the oven of these freebooters hanging in mid-cliff remains, guard-rooms are still extant, and the principal upper storey is now turned into a hotel, as already mentioned, but in so doing the stable has been injured and the well filled up. the hotel is reached by a ladder. [illustration: chÂteau des anglais, brengues. this castle occupied by the free companies, is now wholly inaccessible. the goat-path below was closed, above and below, by gate-houses and guard-rooms.] [illustration: chÂteau du diable, cabreret, lot. a castle on a narrow ledge of rock above the river célé, built by the bastard of albert, circ. , and held for the english.] from this vultures' nest the ribauds devastated the neighbourhood and the sieur des eyzies on the opposite side of the river, and who was on the french side, was powerless against them. in company with the garrison of bigaroque they surprised temniac near sarlat, s. quentin and campagnac, in , but were shortly after dislodged by the seneschal of perigord from these acquisitions. in they surprised the church and fortress of tursac and the castle of palevez. the men of sarlat hastened to recover tursac, bringing with them some machines of war, named la bride, le hop, le collard, and l'asne, that flung stones and bolts and pots of flaming tar and sulphur. they managed to drive the english out of tursac, but were unable to recover the other castle. in , at the solicitation of the baron of limeuil, they took and utterly destroyed the town and castle of la roche christophe, as shall be related in full in the sequel. on th december , the constable of france having ruined bigaroque, besieged the rock of tayac, and it was taken after a gallant defence on th january , demolished and reduced to the condition in which we see it now. then a tax was levied throughout perigord to pay for the cost of the sieges of bigaroque and the rock of tayac. we will now pass from perigord to quercy. here the english companies held the valley of the lot from below capdenac to the gates of cahors, except the impregnable towns of cajarc and calvignac. flowing into the lot at conduché is the river célé that descends from figeac. this river was also in the grip of the english. below figeac the limestone precipices first appear at corn, and the cliff is full of caves in which there are remains of fortifications. the cliff is not beautiful, but is wondrous strange, white, draped with fallen folds of stalactite, black as ink, as though a tattered funeral pall had been cast over it. corn was a feof of the family of beduer, one of the five most powerful in quercy. in perducat, the bastard of albret, an english captain, occupied corn, but sold it to john, count of armagnac, seneschal of quercy; after having marched out and pocketed his money, he turned round, marched in again, and set to work to fortify the caves. he made the citizens of cajarc contribute to the expense of this proceeding, and even required them to send masons to assist him in the work; but as they were loyal subjects of the french king they demurred at this, and he substituted additional money payment for personal service. he then pushed down the célé valley to cabrerets near where it debouches into the lot, and in he fortified the caves of espagnac, brengues, marcillac, sauliac, and built the château du diable at cabrerets. the count d'armagnac sent troops to dislodge him, but failed. in the rock of corn, a little higher up the river than the village, is the grotto du consulat, reached by a path along a narrow ledge. to this the villagers were wont to gather to elect their magistrates without interference from the bastard of albret. within is a bench cut in the rock, and the roof is encrusted with stalactite formations like cauliflowers. immediately above the village is a much larger cavern feet high and feet deep. it is vaulted like a dome, and tendrils of ivy and vine hang down draping the entrance. violets grow in purple masses at the opening, and maiden-hair fern luxuriates within. at the extreme end, high up, to be reached only by a ladder of forty rungs, is another opening into a cave that runs far into the bowels of the causse, to where the water falls in a cascade that now flows forth beneath the outer cave and supplies the village with drinking water and a place for washing linen. hard by the great entrance is another cave situated high up, and called the citadel, much smaller, access to which is obtained by a narrow track in the face of the rock, with notches cut in the limestone to receive the beams and struts that supported a wooden gallery which once provided easy access to the cave. i did not myself climb up and investigate the citadel, not having a steady head on the edge of a precipice, and what information i give was received from the curé, who seemed very much amused at my shirking the scramble, and thought that the englishman of to-day must be very different from the englishman of the fourteenth century who crawled about these cliffs like a lizard. according to him, the cave within shows signs of having been occupied, and has in it a squared and smoothed block of stone nine feet long, at which perducat and his ruffians doubtless caroused, as at a table. [illustration: corn, lot. caves occupied by the routiers. that above the large one was formerly reached by a gallery of wood. it contains the stone table at which the routiers gambled and drank.] in the village of corn is the picturesque château of the family of beduer built after the abandonment of the place by the english. it is now occupied by poor families. a little farther down the valley is the castle of roquefort, which was also annexed by the captain. it is near the church of s. laurent, where was a village that was destroyed by the company. the church itself was blown up later by the huguenots. roquefort is dominated by a precipice, at the foot of which lies a huge mass of rock that has broken off from the cliff, and on this rock a castle has been erected. it belonged to the family of lascasas. one of these fell at résinières in a duel with the seigneur of camboulet; but his adversary survived him only a few minutes, and both were buried on the spot with three stones at their heads and two at their feet. when the new road was being made their skeletons were found. the stones remain _in situ_. in cahors was in possession of the english. the bishop unwilling to recognise the king of england as his sovereign retired to the castle of brengues in the célé valley that pertained to his family, the cardaillacs, and thence governed his diocese. there he died rd february , and his successor also occupied the castle of brengues. but in it was captured by an english company under bertrand de la salle, and in it was held by bertrand de besserat, to whom it was delivered over by perducat d'albret. there are two very remarkable castles at brengues; both were fortified by perducat and besserat. one hangs like a swallow's nest under the eaves of the overhanging rock, and is now wholly inaccessible, so much so that it is in perfect preservation. the river flows far below, and a _talus_ of rubble runs up to the foot of the cliff, along which _talus_, on a narrow terrace, is a path. this path was defended both above and below the castle by gates that were battlemented and to which guard-rooms were attached. the pensile castle is not large. it was entered at one side, and has in its face three roundheaded windows. the other castle of brengues is perforated in an angle of rock, at a great elevation, and consists of several chambers. the cave at the angle was walled up and furnished with doorway and windows. near where the célé flows into the lot is the little town of cabrerets. here the precipice of fawn-coloured limestone overhangs like a wave, curling and about to break. on a ledge under it, and above the river and the road and the houses, is the devil's castle, built by perducat d'albret and bertrand de besserat. the latter held it from to , but then, at the entreaty of the neighbourhood, the seigneur hebraud de saint-sulpice at the head of levies laid siege to the castle and took it. the castle has one of its walls of rock; only that towards the river and the two ends are structural, as is also a round tower. a portion of the castle has been pulled down; it has served as a quarry for the houses beneath, but a good deal still remains. the tower is about feet in diameter. the entrance hall, lighted by windows, is feet long and feet wide. a second hall, partly hewn out of the rock, with recesses for cupboards and seats and with fireplace, is feet long. the oven remains in a ruinous condition. the castle is reached by steps cut in the rock. [illustration: chÂteau des anglais, autoire. reached by a sharp scramble up a steep, and then by a ledge in a precipice. some chambers are scooped out of the rock. when the english were besieged, they escaped by a goat-path, to a point whence hung a rope from a tree above, and up this they swarmed.] below conduché, where the célé enters the lot, the road runs under tremendous precipices of orange and grey limestone, in which the track has been cut; and the road would be totally blocked by a huge buttress split down the middle had not a tunnel for it been cut. as the roman road ran this way, the original tunnel was made by the masters of the world, but it has been widened of late years. commanding the road and the tunnel, planted in the cleft of the rock, is a castellated structure, that also owes its origin to the captains who fortified the célé caves. none could pass up or down the road without being spied and arrested, and made to pay toll by the garrison of this fort. [footnote: so early as the eleventh or twelfth century there was not a small river, as the célé and the aveyron, on which tolls were not levied.] the cahors chronicle says of this period: "deinde fuit in praesenti patria mala guerra. anglicis et gallis hinc inde reprædentibus, unde evenit victualium omnium maxima caristia. nullus civis caturci villam exire erat ausus, omnia enim per injustitiam regebatur." if the merchants and provision wains for cahors were not robbed at the défilé des anglais, they were subjected to toll. the interior of the chasm reveals a whole labyrinth of passages and vaults dug out in the heart of the calcareous rock. the chambers had openings as windows looking out upon a river, and the rock was converted into a barrack that could accommodate a large garrison. the last of the rock fastnesses of the _routiers_ that i purpose describing is of a totally different character from the rest. it is at peyrousse in the rouergue, in the department of aveyron. peyrousse is a village, but was once a fortified town on a height, with its church and church tower standing on the highest point and visible from a great distance. it rises above a deep valley or ravine. the houses are all old, and many of them in ruins. the church, dating from , is not ineffective; there are, however, the ruins of a gothic church farther down the hill. one of the embattled gates of the town is still standing, as well as a tower erroneously supposed to be the bell tower of the ruined church, actually part of the fortification of the place. projecting from the side of the hill on which stands peyrousse, partly attached to it, but for the most part detached, is a ridge of schist starting feet above the stream below, in one sheer precipice, and precipitous on every side. it is perhaps feet long, and rises like a blade of an axe; at each extremity of this ridge is a lofty tower-- one, the farthest, open at the side. to erect these towers it must have been necessary to level a portion of the sharp edge on which they rest. between them one could walk only with a balancing pole like a tight- rope dancer, as there is a sheer fall on each side. the rock is called les roches du tailleur, as having been appropriated by a captain who cut folk's coats according as he wanted the cloth. how the builders climbed to this height, how they managed to carry up their material, and how they achieved the building of these towers, is impossible to conjecture. the tradition is, that when the english quitted peyrousse they destroyed the means of ascent, and since no human being has been able to climb the rock and visit the towers, that for nearly five hundred years have had no other denizens than ravens and jackdaws. but that is not all the puzzle of the tailor's rock. it is supposed that there was a wooden castle between the towers. there is no indication of there having been a stone structure. [illustration: covolo, from a print by merian, - . in the defile of the brenta; feet above the road. it was capable of containing a garrison of men. it was taken from the venetians by maximilian in . it is between primolano and cismone.] [illustration: la roche du tailleur. remains of a castle on a precipitous rock at reyrousse, aveyron; it was held by the english routiers, who, when they abandoned it, destroyed the means of access, since which time it has been inaccessible.] but if so, how was it balanced, or how secured? a plank cast across the blade would make a see-saw for an ogre and ogress, till cut through. i endeavoured with a glass to see whether notches had been hacked in the schist to receive stays, and others on the ridge to accommodate joists, but could distinguish none. peyrousse became a calvinist stronghold in the wars of religion, when the churches were destroyed; but the huguenots made no attempt to climb the tailor's rocks and restore the castle. at the foot of the crags are the remains of the chapel of the garrison. how did they descend to it and mount again? i presume by a knotted rope. a cliff castle that bears a curious resemblance to peyrousse is trosky, in bohemia, but in this latter case the rocks are of basalt, and between the two towers the connecting rock forms a deep depression. in , johann von herzmanmiestetz and otto berka of trosk sacked the monastery of opatowitz, butchered most of the monks, tortured the abbot so that he died a few days later, and carried off all the plunder they could collect. with the spoil otto berka built a castle on the two spires of rock, a tower on each, and connected them with a crescent wall, and a gallery of communication. the walls were six feet thick, and the foundations clamped to the rock with iron. he also contrived a tunnel, cut in the rock to the bottom, to enable himself and his men to ascend and descend. in , however, otto berka was there no more. the castle was besieged by the terrible one-eyed hussite commander, ziska with the flail, and he succeeded in capturing the lower tower after great loss of life, but entirely failed to take the upper donjon. after the departure of ziska the castle was taken as a residence by margaret, widow of otto berka, who secured the lower tower, and her granddaughter barbara occupied the higher. these women hated each other as poison, and to personal hate was added religious rancour, for barbara had embraced the party of the utraquists. the theological quarrel was simply about the use of the chalice at communion. the roman church had withdrawn it from the people; the utraquists asserted their right to it; and about this question the two parties fought and slaughtered each other, and burnt towns and castles. the tradition is that all day long, and part of the night, the two women screamed abuse at each other from their several towers, and desisted only for their meals, their devotions, and necessary sleep. folk passing along the highway would halt and listen to the yelling and vituperation of the two shrews. each had her own chapel at the foot of the cliffs, in which each ostentatiously followed the rite of which she approved; and to this day the chapels remain. according to the local story, the cries of the women were so strident and so continuous that all birds were scared away from trosky. at length margaret died, and bertha had become so accustomed to scolding at the top of her voice, that she died soon after from dissatisfaction at having lost the object of her abuse. in trosky was the property of william von hasenburg, who sided with king mathias against george podjebrad. after the defeat of mathias, podjebrad captured trosky, but as the owner came to terms, he was allowed to retain his castle. the towers are all that remain of the castle; the curtain wall has been broken down. the lower tower can be reached by a climber with a steady head, but not without risk of life. the higher tower is quite inaccessible. from the height a magnificent prospect is obtained, with prague in the distance. to return once more to the _routiers_. near mont dore is the roche de sanadoire, feet high, composed of phonolith and basaltic prisms. on the top stood the fortress of the _routiers_, calling themselves english, under a captain chennel, from to , when he was caught, conveyed to paris, and broken on the wheel. it is not to be wondered at that the memory of the terrible times of the english domination, and its consequence, the reign of the _routiers_, should linger on in the memory of the people; that every cliff castle should be a château des anglais, or a château du diable--they mean the same thing. the peasant reads but little--history not at all; but jean bonhomme looks up at the cliffs and finds the story of the past graven there; and just as the twinge of a corn is still felt after the foot has been amputated, so--though the english rule has passed away, three hundred and fifty years have intervened--he still winces, and curses the haunts "de ces cochons d'anglais," though in fact ces cochons were his own compatriots, doubled-dyed in iniquity, as traitors to their country and their king. chapter vi cliff castles--_continued_ i took the third of the classes into which i have divided my subject of cliff castles, first of all; and now i shall take the others in the category. the seigneurs were not greatly, if at all, to be distinguished from the captains of the _routiers_ in their mode of life and in their fortresses, save only this, that the latter were elected by their followers, and the former were on their hereditary estates and could demand the services of their vassals. in the matter of scoundreldom there was not a pin to choose between them. but the _routier_ chiefs were not tied to any one castle as their home; they shifted quarters from one rock to another, from one province to another as suited them, whereas the seigneur had his home that had belonged to his forefathers and which he hoped to transmit to his son. i will give but an instance. archibald v. ( - ) was count of perigord. he was nominally under the lilies, but he pillaged indiscriminately in his county. surrounded by adventurers he planted his men in castles about perigord, and from that of la rolphie "hung over the city like the sword of damocles," menaced perigueux. one little town after another was pillaged. he intercepted the merchants on the roads. at s. laurent-du-manoir his captains added outrage to injury, for they took all the women of the place, and cut off their skirts at the knees; and one who made strenuous resistance they killed. in , the seneschal of perigord, in the name of the king of france, ordered archibald to desist from his acts of violence. when he refused, his lands were declared confiscated. but who was to bell the cat? he mocked at the sentence, and was roused to fresh incursions and pillages. at last in the parliament acted, and summoned the count to appear along with twenty-three of his accomplices before its bar "to answer for having overrun with his troops the suburbs of perigueux; for having assaulted the city, and neighbouring places; for having wounded and killed a great many persons; for having incarcerated others to extort a ransom from them; for having, like common highwaymen, seized cattle, fired granges, mills, houses; and for having committed crimes so infamous, so ferocious, that one would feel pain to disclose them." archibald paid not the slightest regard to the summons or to the sentence pronounced against him _in contumaciam_. the law could not enforce its judgment, and six years later in he died. the king refused to recognise his son archibald vi. as count of perigord, but archibald disregarded the refusal, and openly sided with the english. he successfully resisted the troops sent against him, and continued in the same courses as his father. at last he was brought to bay in montignac, where he was constrained to capitulate. he was sent to charles vi., but effected his escape and fled to london in . thence he returned in , and captured auberoche, much about the time of the english victory at agincourt. he died in undisturbed possession of his county of perigord in . few portions of france so lent itself to the requirements of the feudal tyrants of the middle ages, as they did also to those of the _routiers_, as the volcanic district of auvergne. there the floods of lava that flowed from the volcanoes have formed caps to hills, with precipices on every side, cut through by the streams, that have separated portions from the main current. every such peak or fragment of plateau was laid hold of by the seigneurs of old, as sites for their fortresses. from the number of these strongholds and the almost impregnable nature of most of them, the feudal tyrants of auvergne were able to hold their own, long after the rest had been brought to their knees; and it was not until richelieu with iron hand moved against them that their career of rapine and violence was curbed. beginning in , richelieu ordered the demolition of all feudal fortresses that were not necessary for the defence of the frontiers, and which were a permanent menace to the king's authority, and an object of terror to town and country, and to the nobles afforded reminiscence of past lawlessness. the demolition was entrusted to the communes themselves. and in order to bring the culprits to speedy judgment, he renewed the institution of the _grand jours_; that of poitiers in condemned over two hundred nobles convicted of exactions and crimes. but it was impossible in many places, notably in auvergne, for the communes to get hold of the castles and blow them up. there, for some thirty years longer, the seigneurs defied justice, and it was much the same elsewhere. on the st august , the _grand jours_ were announced for all the centre of france, but notice that they were to be held had been given so long before that the guilty were allowed plenty of time to escape out of the country, go into hiding or come to terms. great were the expectations of the people. right was at length to prevail over might. the day of judgment was coming on the oppressors. the mighty would be put down from their seat and the humble would be exalted in their room. a peasant wearing his cap before a noble, the latter knocked it off his head "pick it up," said the peasant, "or the king will cut off your head." the seigneur obeyed. but the result was disappointing. only one noble had his head cut off. few executions were carried into effect, many were on paper. one of the latter, a ruffian steeped in blood, defied the sentence and was banished. fléchier in his amusing and instructive book, _les grands jours d'auvergne_, has given us a dramatic account of the trial. every description of intrigue was had recourse to, in order to neutralise the effect of justice. the fair ladies of clermont, _les chats fourrés_, as fléchier calls them, did their utmost to reduce the severity of the judges. the great days lasted three months, and ended in disappointment. many of the worst offenders, convicted of atrocious crimes, entered the royal service and fought in the armies of the king. but if justice spared the culprits, the opportunity was accorded to destroy their strongholds, and now little remains of these towers of iniquity but the foundations, and some fragments of their massive walls, which were generally constructed of basaltic prisms taken from the rock that sustained the castles, laid horizontally. "puzzolana was mixed with the mortar used in these constructions, and without the binding quality communicated by this ingredient, probably no cement would have taken effect on the smooth a rid iron surfaces of the prisms." [footnote: poulette scrope, "the extinct volcanoes of central france," lond. .] the king had indeed desired that greater severity should be used. he wrote to the judges: "you must manage to banish oppression and violence out of the provinces. you have begun well, and you must finish well." at the conclusion he had a medal struck representing a slave rising from the ground, under the protection of the sword of royalty, and with the expressive device, _salus provinciarum repressa potentorum audacia_. it was, however, rather the destruction of the nests than the punishment of the vultures that effected the work. the marquis de canillac, one of the worst, escaped into spain. he had maintained twelve ruffians, whom he called his apostles, who catechised with sword and rod all who rebelled against his exactions. he levied taxes on necessary articles of food, and when his vassals abstained from food he fined them for not eating. he allowed none to marry without paying into his hands half the _dot_ of the bride. his kinsman, the vicomte lamotte-canillac, was the one culprit executed. the river vézère, opposite to the prehistoric caves of moustier, makes a sudden bend about a wall of chalk feet high and feet long. "of all the rocks that have served for the habitation of man, this is the most striking for its dimensions and for the number of habitations it contained, if one may give that name to the excavations which the hand of man has appropriated to his use. staircases were carved in the rock, carried half-way up the height, to where the cliff has been excavated, its recesses enlarged and divided into compartments." [footnote: de roumejoux, _bulletin de la soc. hist. de perigord._ t. xix. .] this bluff is called la roche s. christophe. it arrests attention at once, for half-way up it is furrowed horizontally as though worked by a giant's tool. if the visitor approaches the cliff, he will find that the masses of rock that have fallen from above, as well as others that have formed spurs, have been extensively worked to form town walls, gateways, a church, a monastery, and dwelling-houses. one gateway, bored through the rock, has a guard-room or sentinel's watch-chamber scooped out of a pinnacle. but not a roof remains, not a living soul is to be seen in the street, not a huxter's stall in the market-place, only tiles strewn about and white rocks blackened with smoke show that man lived there. by a flight of stairs cut in the rock, the visitor can ascend to the furrow in the face of the cliff, and there he finds that the whole has been elaborately utilised. there are chambers excavated in the chalk that were formerly closed by wood partitions, with recesses for beds, cupboards, seats--clearly the bedrooms of ladies. the grooves into which the planks were fitted can be made out. doors were fitted into rocky rebates to move on their hinges, the hinges being round prolongations of the door frame turning in holes sunk in floor and roof. the kitchen is there, the bakehouse with its oven; the guard-room with its benches for the troopers, cisterns, store-chambers, closets, cellars, a chapel, and the latrines. all but the last are on a level in one long row, with the cliff descending precipitately from the gallery that precedes the apartments and gave communication between them and which, in part, had been widened by means of a wooden balcony and railing. the chapel, if that be the walled structure in a hole of the rock, is now inaccessible. its destination is uncertain. the peasants so designate it. fragments of earthenware vessels and of tiles lie on the floors. i could find nothing else. above the principal gallery are others of less importance that can only be reached from the top of the cliff. this roche saint christophe has a history. it was first fortified by frotarius de gourdon to resist the incursions of the northmen. he was assassinated at mourcinez in coursac in . there was a priory in the town below, mention of which is found in a charter of . the remarkable range of chambers and structures in the face of the precipice formed the castle of the family of laroque. it was a worthy family, greatly respected in the neighbourhood, and loyal to the crown of france. the seigneur was the protector of the little town that lay below. on passion sunday, , the townsfolk and the occupants of the castle were gathered in the church, when a cry was raised that the enemy had swarmed over the walls and were in the town. adhémar de laroque was the seigneur at the time. he hastened from the church, but already the street was full of english, and escape to his castle was cut off, as they had secured the stair. adhémar had a personal enemy, one jean ducos, a kinsman of the baron de limeuil. these men, calculating that the garrison of la roque would be off its guard on that holy day, arranged with the english garrison of the rock of tayac to surprise the town. they came upon it unobserved, and breaking in, massacred the people and the guards; then ensued a general pillage, and a conflagration. every house was fired after it had been ransacked, and the english ribauds running along the platform with torches in their hands, applied the flame to everything combustible--doors, galleries, partitions, rafters --all blazed, and the only portion of the castle and town that was left unconsumed were the latrines, to which they did not consider it worth their pains to apply their torches. from that day to this the town of la roche saint christophe has been abandoned. no cottager has ventured to repair the ruined habitations for his own use; as the place is esteemed haunted, notably on the night of passion sunday, when a ghostly train of the dead is seen flickering in and out of the rocks and ruins by the light of the easter moon. but the castle was again tenanted for awhile by a band of huguenots, who committed such depredations in the neighbourhood that on th march , the viscount of aubeterre, governor of perigord issued orders-- "as the enemies of the king occupying this castle are doing incredible mischief to the poor folk of the neighbourhood," that they should be expelled and the castle be utterly destroyed. [footnote: la roche s. christophe is mentioned in the letters of petrarch. labbé. frag. bp. petrarchi.] [illustration: kronmetz. this cave castle was nominally held by nobles in feof to the bishop of trent, but it actually became a den of robbers. it was taken by storm in . count v. firmian, to whom it belongs, has built for himself a more convenient residence at the foot of the rock.] quite as curious, and with a less tragic history is la roche gageac on the dordogne, below sarlat. "ma chère patrie," wrote the old chronicler, jean tarde, "une petite ville bien close et très forte dépendant de la temporalité de l'evesque de sarlet, _la quelle ne fut jamais prinse par les anglais_." the white jurassic limestone dappled orange, fawn colour, and silver grey, rises feet above the river, the lower portion is in terraces, very narrow, on which are the houses clinging to the rock, cramped between the dordogne and the cliff which rises to feet above. the old houses are echeloned along the face of the rock, superposed the one on the other, calcined by the sun as they face south, and the rock behind cuts off all northern winds and reflects the glare of the southern sun. this explains the vegetable precocity of the spot, where wallflowers, cactus, roses, luxuriate. it would be too hot were it not for the abundant springs, and the proximity to the dordogne down which a cool air is wafted. the habitations are either partly or wholly caves, they do not reach half-way up the rock which overhangs to the west. in the face of the cliff are two castles built into its recesses, one pertained to the bishop of sarlat, and the other to the fénélon family. both were ideals of a stronghold in the middle ages, impossible to escalade or to undermine. in the fifteenth century la roche gageac was a walled town containing five châteaux of noble families, juxtaposed and independent of each other, although comprised within the same enclosure. originally indeed all were under the bishop of sarlat, but the popes had set the example of jobbery for the benefit of their sons and nephews, and the bishops were not slow to follow the lead. one bishop made over the principal castle to his brother as a hereditary feof, and others disposed of the rest for money down, so that by the second half of the sixteenth century the town had been dismembered. although it had held out against the english, when thus broken up among several, it could not defend itself against the calvinists, who took, burned and sacked it in . they killed three sarlat priests. it was retaken by the royal troops in , but it again fell into the hands of the calvinists in , and the wreckage of its ecclesiastical buildings dates from those two captures. the principal castle, that which belonged to the bishop of sarlat, occupies one of the profound horizontal furrows in the face of the rock, that are so common in the limestone and chalk formations. it consists of three towers, two of which are square and one round, with curtains uniting them, and a gate-tower, to which a flight of steps cut in the rock gives access for a part of the way. but to reach this flight one has to mount by a series of posts serving as steps driven into sockets in the rock, with only here and there a sustaining iron bar. below the structure are chambers, possibly prisons, but more probably store rooms dug out of the rock. in this castle one of the bishops of sarlat, in stormy times, lived continuously, and there died. how was his body carried down the stair? probably it was lowered by ropes. i cannot quit la roche gageac without a word on one of its most illustrious natives, jean tarde, born there in the friend of galileo, and who, the first in france, five years after the great florentine had begun to search the skies with his telescope, invented one year previously, erected his tube here at one of the openings of this eagle's nest, and during ten consecutive years pursued his astronomic studies. he was a remarkable man in many ways. he was the first to map his native perigord, and the first to write a chronicle of the diocese of sarlat, a valuable work for any who would compile a history of the hundred years' war, the first also to repudiate the accepted attribution of the dolmens as altars of sacrifice, and to indicate their true character as sepulchres. his account of the ravages committed by the huguenots is also valuable. the year before his birth, in , at lalande, the calvinists got into the town through a hole in the wall, killed the first consul, the vicar, and six other priests, and massacred a hundred of the inoffensive citizens. sixty took refuge in the church. the calvinists forced such as could to ransom their lives, and slaughtered such as were too poor to do this. he was but six or seven years old when the huguenot captain, the sieur d'assier, took la roque, "killing the priests and burning the churches." he was aged twelve when captain vivant took sarlat, suppressed the bishopric, and killed three of the canons and several of the citizens. at la chapelle- faucher in the heretics drove peasants into the castle and massacred them all. he was made vicar-general to the bishop of sarlat, and it was after having made a tour of the diocese in that the idea occurred to him to write the history of his country and repair as far as possible the loss of so many of the archives that had been burnt. in he was made honorary chaplain to henry iv., and in was published his _description du pais de quercy_. his history of sarlat, after remaining in ms. was at length published in , but only copies were printed. happily one is in the british museum, and i possess another. gluges is on the dordogne near martel, where high up in the cliff, difficult of access, is the fortified cave-castle of guillaume taillefer, son of raymond iv., count of toulouse, who was created lord of quercy in . nearly on the level of the river is a cave half walled up, with traces of fresco on the walls, of course much later than the time of taillefer. a modern house has been built on the platform that has been levelled, and much of the wall demolished; the upper fortified cave has an opening in the wall, pointed, of the thirteenth or fourteenth century. in much the same condition is another cliff castle in the rocks of the valley of the alzou, between grammat and rocamadour, a little above the cascade of the mill du saut. i have elsewhere [footnote: "a book of the cevennes," lond., j. long.] given an account of the curious castle of la roche lambert at borne in haute loire, built in a basaltic cleft through which roars the river. it is the theatre of george sand's novel, jean de la roche. "i may say without exaggeration that i was reared in a rock. the castle of my fathers is strangely incrusted into an excavation in a wall of basalt feet high. the base of this wall, with that face to face with it, identically the same rock, forms a narrow and sinuous valley, through which winds and leaps an inoffensive torrent in impetuous cascades. the château de la roche is a nest of troglodytes, inasmuch as the whole flank of the rock we occupy is riddled with holes and irregular chambers which tradition points out as the residence of ancient savages, and which antiquaries do not hesitate to attribute to a prehistoric people. "the castle of my fathers is planted high up on a ledge of rock, but so that the conical roofs of the tower just reach above the level of the plain. my mother having poor health, and having no other place to walk save one tiny platform before the castle on the edge of the abyss, took it into her head to create for herself a garden at the summit of the crag on which we were perched midway." in cantal at roqueville are the remains of a castle excavated out of the rocks. between jung-bunzlau and böhm-leipa in bohemia is the rock- castle of habichstein. two lakes lie in a basin of the hills that are well-wooded up their sides, but have bare turfy crowns. the upper lake is studded with islands. between this and the lower lake stands an extraordinary hump of sandstone, on a sloping _talus_. this hump has much resemblance to a noah's ark stranded on a diminutive ararat. the rock is perforated in all directions with galleries and chambers, and contains a stable for horses and for cattle, which, however, is no longer accessible. on the summit of the rock rises a keep very much resembling a pictish broch. habichstein belongs to the wallenstein family that possesses a stately schloss at the head of the upper lake. it has been abandoned for, probably, two hundred years, as it can never have been a comfortable residence; moreover, the sandstone is continually breaking away. below the hill and castle is the village. in there was a fall of the rock, and again in , when it crushed three of the houses beneath. [illustration: the puxer loch, styria. supposed to have been occupied by a shadowless man. it was still inhabited last century by an old mason.] another and still more curious cliff castle in bohemia is that of burgstein. there are several on the frontier of the wargau and the hardt in north bohemia, where the german and czech languages meet, but it is not possible here to describe them all. burgstein is the most curious. it consists of an isolated mass of sandstone springing out of level land, an outlying block of the schwoik chain. formerly it rose out of a lake or marsh, but this is now drained. the entrance is through a narrow gap in the rock by a flight of steps that lead into a court on all sides surrounded by sheer precipices except towards the north-west, where a gap was closed by a wall. out of this court open caves, one was formerly the smithy, another the guard-room, a third the stable, and in a recess is the well. from the court access to the main structure is obtained by a rift in the sandstone commanded by the guard-room, and up which ascends a stair of steps that leads to a second rift at right angles, up which leads a further stair of steps, and from the landing descend to a lower portion of the rock, a platform with a breastwork of wall, important for defence of the entrance. the steps lead to various chambers, and to an open court that looks out over the precipice, and has on one side scooped out of the rock a watchman's chamber, and on the other an armoury, where pilasters on each side supported shelves on which helmets and breastplates were laid; and beyond this is a guard-room. the summit of the rock has on it a lantern that lights an underground chapel, and formerly contained a bell, also a modern summer-house. as the rock was commanded from the south by a spur of the schwoik range, when cannon were introduced, a new mode of access was devised on the north side, a passage in loops was constructed leading to the upper court. the castle called in czech, stolpna, or the pillar, is first mentioned in the fourteenth century. the great highroad to and from böhmisch-leipa passed near it, and it became the stronghold of a raubritter, mikisch passzer of smoyn, who became such a terror to the neighbourhood that the sixtowns league of lausitz in attacked it with men, broke down the dam that held back the water, and made of the rock an islet in a lake and constrained mikisch to surrender. soon after, however, he recommenced his lawless proceedings, and was again attacked in , and after a siege that lasted five weeks, forced to quit his fortress. at the end of the seventeenth century burgstein was converted into a hermitage and brother constantine, the first hermit, either enlarged or dug out the present chapel and built the lantern above, through which it obtains light. he did more, he carved a figure of himself looking through a telescope, life size, and planted on the summit of the rock. on the occasion of the prussian invasion of bohemia the image was assumed to be a spy, and the germans fired at it and greatly damaged the figure, and were much puzzled at being unable to prostrate the dauntless spy. the present possessor of the rock castle has had the figure restored. burgstein remained the abode of a hermit till , when the reforming joseph ii. abolished all hermitages, and turned out every hermit in his dominions. and now, back to the jura limestone again. a few words must be given to kronmetz in tirol, at the mouth of the val di non, opening into the etschthal. [illustration: habichstein bohemia. a castle belonging to count wallenstein now abandoned owing to the falling away of portions of the rock. it contains stable for horses and cattle, now inaccessible without ladders.] this castle belonged to the bishops of trient, and was intended by them to serve as a place of "ward and custody" against invading or marauding bands. but _quis custodiet custodies_? it was granted in fief to two brothers von leo, who turned it into a robbers' nest, so that the neighbourhood rose in arms in and stormed it. then the bishops confided it to the herren von metz, and they carried on a feud with their overlord, the bishop. at last it came to the counts von firmian, who, in , built a more convenient mansion at the foot of the cliff, and turned the old castle into a hermitage. the castle, that is in a fair condition, occupies a broad cleft in the rock, only accessible by a narrow path cut in the rocks on the west side. it consists of an outer court and an inner court, protected on the side of the precipice by a stout wall, behind which were originally chambers, as windows in the wall and beamholes show to have been the case. there is a donjon that reaches to the overhanging rock and a ruinous chapel with apsidal east end. the cleft runs further east, but is blocked with a wall. another cliff castle, of which merian, in his topographia, - , gave a picture to arouse interest and wonder, is that of covolo, at one time in tirol, now over the italian border. his description of it is as little accurate as his illustration. as a matter of fact, although it is certainly a cliff castle, constructed in a cave, it is accessible on foot, and it is by no means necessary to be conveyed to it by a windlass. indeed it would not be easy to erect a crane on the platform of the castle that could haul up men and provisions from below. a more famous fortress in a cave is that of schallaun in the puxerloch. here is a grotto in the face of the precipice, feet above the valley. the cliff itself is feet high. the castle consists of two stages, the outer court is at a lower level than the face of the cliff, and the opening of the grotto. entrance was obtained through this outer court that was reached by a path cut in the rock, and from it by a stair also rock-hewn. a second court was reached, above this was again a third within the cave. on the right hand the cave branches out into a long inner cleft that was closed at one time by a door, and was probably used as a cellar. the main cavern also runs by a narrow passage deep into the heart of the rock to a pool of crystal clear water, never failing. the main building--hardly a donjon, was occupied till late in last century by an old mason who patched it up and made it habitable. at a little distance to the east is a smaller cave also with a wall in front of it, and this is said by the peasants to have been the kitchen of the castle, and to have been reached by a wooden gallery from the main building. according to tradition, schallaun derives its name from chalons. in the time of charlemagne a knight of chalons named charlot eloped with a saxon princess, and took refuge in this cave. it became a den of thieves, and margaret maultasch (pouchmouth) took and dismantled it. according to another story the castle served as the haunt of a shadowless man. unlike camizzo's hero, he had not sold his shade to the devil, but by a lapse of nature had been born without one. this proved to him so distressing, and so completely interfered with his matrimonial prospects that he took refuge in the puxerloch, where he was in shadow all day, and his peculiarity could not be noticed; he issued from it only on moonless nights, on one of which he carried off a peasant maid--and she never knew that he was shadowless, for he never allowed her to see his deficiency. historically very little is known of the schallaun castle, which is to its advantage, as when these castles are mentioned in chronicles, it is to record some deed of violence done by the occupants. in it belonged to the knightly family of sauran, but they sold it. it is now the possession of the ritter von franckh. [footnote: in "unser vaterland, steiermark," stuttgart, n.d., p. , is a representation of the puxerloch, but it resembles much more kronmetz. it gives towers and walls and gates that do not exist in the puxerloch.] perhaps the nearest approach to the puxerloch castle in france is the roc de cuze near neussargues in cantal. in the face of the cliff is a cave that has been converted into a castle, a wall closes the mouth, and there is a tower. another fortress completely carved out of the rock is at roqueville. i will now deal with the third class, rock towns and castles combined. and i can afford space to treat of but one out of the many that would enter more or less into the category. although nottingham town does not occupy the top of a rock, its castle that does cannot be passed by without notice, because that rock is perforated with galleries and has in it a subterranean chapel. the castle, now bereft of its ancient splendour, of its coronet of towers, was built by william the conqueror on the summit of a precipitous height rising above the river leen. it was dismantled by cromwell, and what remained was pulled down by the duke of newcastle, who erected on its site the uninteresting and unpicturesque mansion that now exists. the castle was long considered impregnable; and to it queen isabel fled with sir roger mortimer, whom she had created earl of march, and she held it with a guard of one hundred and eighty knights. king edward iii with a small retinue occupied the town. every night the gates of the fortress were locked and the keys delivered to the queen, who slept with them under her pillow. sir william montacute, with the sanction of the young king, summoned to his aid several nobles on whose fidelity he could depend, and obtained edward's warrant for the apprehension of the earl of march. the plot was now ripe for execution. for a time, however, the inaccessible nature of the castle rock, and the vigilance with which the gates were guarded, appeared to present an insuperable obstacle to the accomplishment of their designs. however, sir william eland, constable of the castle, was won over, and he agreed to admit the conspirators. in the words of an old chronicler, the constable said to montacute, "sir, woll ye unterstande that the yats (gates) of the castell both loken with lokys, and queen isabell sent hidder by night for the kayes thereof, and they be layde under the chemsell of her beddis-hede unto the morrow ... but yet i know another weye by an aley that stretchith out of the ward, under the earthe into the castell, which aley queen isabell ne none of her meayne, ne the mortimer, ne none of his companye knoweth it not, and so i shall lede you through the aley, and so ye shall come into the castell without spyes of any man that bith your enemies." on the night of october , , edward and his loyal associates before midnight were guided through the subterranean passage by eland, and burst into the room where the earl of march was engaged in council with the bishop of lincoln and others of his friends. sir hugh trumpington, steward of the household, a creature of mortimer, attempting to oppose their entrance, was slain. the earl himself was seized, in spite of the entreaties of isabel, who, hearing the tumult, rushed from her chamber, crying "fair son, spare my gentle mortimer!" both were secured. the next day, edward announced that he had assumed the government, and summoned a parliament to meet at westminster on the th november. no sooner had this parliament met than a bill of impeachment was presented against mortimer. the peers found all the charges brought against him to be "notorously true, known to them, and all the people." and he was sentenced to be drawn and hanged as a traitor. mortimer was executed at tyburn, and the queen mother was sent under ward to the manor of rising. the passage by which the conspirators entered, and by which the earl was conveyed away, goes by the name of mortimer's hole to the present day. [illustration: a portion of the rock monastery, nottingham park]. if i were to attempt to deal with castles and towns on rocky heights i would have to fill pages with descriptions of capdenac, najarc, minerve, les baux, san marino, san leo, and many another, but inasmuch as they are _on_ rocks instead of being _in_ rocks, i must pass them over. a fourth class of cliff castle, neither the habitation of a _routier_ nor the residence of a feudal seigneur, is that which commands an important ford, or the road or waterway to a town, and which was, in point of fact, an outpost of the garrison. i can describe but a few. the emperor honorius had conceded to the visigoths all that portion of gaul that lay between the loire and the pyrenees. the visigoths were arians. far from imitating the romans, who respected the religion of the vanquished, and cared only that the peoples annexed to the empire should submit to their administrative and military organisation, the visigoths sought to impose arianism on the nations over whom they exercised dominion. the bishops and priests protested energetically against this tyranny, and the visigoths sought to break their resistance by persecution and exile, but gained nothing thereby save bitter hostility. in the year an event took place that gave to the aquitanians their religious liberty. the franks were their deliverers. clovis, who coveted the rich provinces of the south, profited by the religious antagonism existing between the aquitanians and the goths to gain the confidence of the bishops to whom he promised the destruction of arian supremacy. and as he had obtained the strongest and most numerous adhesions in poitou he resolved there to strike a decisive blow. he prepared his expedition with such secrecy and moved with such celerity that alaric ii., king of the visigoths, did not become aware of his peril till the army of clovis was on the confines of his realm. he threw himself into poitiers, and assembled all the forces he was able to call together. clovis crossed the loire at tours, and directed his march towards poitiers; he passed over the creusse at port de pilles, and reached the vienne. the season was the end of september, and there had been so much and such continuous rain that the river was swollen, and he could not cross. accordingly he and his army ascended it on the right bank seeking for a ford. he reached chauvigny, where was a ford, but this was now found impracticable. on the left hand of the present road to lussac-le- chateau is a stony, narrow, waterless valley, up which formerly ran the old roman highway. at the / kilometre stone is a dense thicket of oak coppice, clothing the steep side of the valley. by scrambling down this, clinging to the oak-branches, one reaches a bluff of chalk rock, hollowed out by nature at the foot to the depth of feet, and running horizontally to the length of from to feet, and terminating in a natural barrier of rock. it contracts in one place so as to form two chambers. now this gallery is closed towards the valley by a screen of six huge slabs and feet long, and feet high, and feet thick. they have apparently been slung down from above, and caught and planted so as to wall up the open side of the recess. and at the north end another block, now broken, was set at right angles so as to half close the gallery at the end, leaving a doorway for access to the interior. the attempt to plant these huge slabs on a steep slope was not in every case successful, for a couple slid down the incline, but these served to form a heel-catch to those who did remain erect. local antiquaries pronounce this to be a fortified cave, unique of its kind, devised to protect the road to lussac, at the strategical point where it could best be defended. i have myself no manner of doubt that it was a so- called demi-dolmen, a tribal ossuary of neolithic man. not only is it quite in character with his megalithic remains scattered over the country, but treasure-seekers who in digging displaced and brought down one of the side slabs found two diorite axes, one of which i was fortunate enough to secure. persons in gaulish or post-roman times would not have dreamed of going to the enormous labour and attempting the difficult task of forming the sides with stone slabs, but would have closed the recess with a wall. the cave goes by the name of la grotte de jioux (of jove) which in itself hints its remote antiquity. [illustration: the ruined monastery in the rocks, nottingham park. the monastery commonly called papists' holes, abandoned at the dissolution, was finally wrecked by the roundheads in the civil wars.] but, although i do not believe that this cave was constructed as a military vidette and guard-house, i have no doubt whatever that it may have been so used, and it is very probable that at this point took place the first brush of clovis and his franks with the enemy, for the valley bears the name of le vallon des goths. alaric knew, what clovis did not, that there was a ford at lussac, and if he had any military foresight, he would plant a body of men across the road in the throat of the valley to intercept the franks on their way. as it was, the franks pushed on, and seeing a deer wade across the river at lussac, raised exultant shouts, plunged into the vienne, and crossed. the result was the battle of voulon, in which the arian goths were defeated, and their empire broken down. [footnote: this decisive battle is located at vouillé to the north-west of poitiers; but local historians are convinced that the site was voulon to the south of poitiers. see thibaudeau, _abrégé de l'histoire de poitou_, niort, .] the grotto of jioux was but an accidental outpost, but those i am about to describe were artificially contrived for that purpose. in the broad valley of le loir below vendôme, the great elevated chalk plateau of beauce has been cut through, leaving precipitous white sides. at one point a buttress of rock has been thrown forward that dominates the road and also the ford over the river. its importance was so obvious that it was seized upon in the middle ages and converted into a fortress. the place is called le gué du loir. not far off is the château of bonnaventure, where antoine de bourbon idled away his time drinking surène wine, and carrying on an intrigue with a wench at le gué, whilst his wife, jeanne d'albret, was sending gangs of bandits throughout her own and his territories to plunder, burn, and murder in the name of religion. but antoine cared for none of these things. at bonnaventure he composed the song:-- si le roi m'avait donné paris, sa grande ville, et qu'il me fallait quiter l'amour de ma mie, je dirai au roi henri (iii.) reprenez votre paris, j'aime mieux ma mie au gué, j'aime mieux ma mie. molière introduced a couplet of this lay into his alceste. [illustration: la roche corail. a cave fortress commanding the river charante. the large opening is formed by breaking away a doorway and windows; the doorway communicated with a wooden balcony leading to other chambers in the rock.] [illustration: the first hall, la roche corail. windows and slots for discharging missiles, and for spearing those attempting to attack the garrison in its stronghold.] the rock has been excavated throughout, and in places built into, and on to. two flights of steps cut in the cliff give access to the main portion of the castle. that on the right leads first of all to the governor's room, hewn out of a projecting portion of the rock floored with tiles, with a good fireplace and a broad window, commanding the loir and allowing the sun to flood the room. the opening for the window formerly contained a casement. there is a recess for a bed, and there are in the sides numerous cupboards and other excavations for various purposes. this chamber is entered through that of the sentinel, which was also furnished with a fireplace. the stair leads further up to a large hall artificially carved out of the chalk, but not wholly, for there had been originally a natural cavern of small dimensions, which had a gaping opening. this opening had been walled up with battlements and loopholes, but the old woman to whom the rock or this portion of the rock belongs, and who is a cave-dweller at its foot, has demolished the wall to breast-height, so as to let the sun and air pour in, for she uses the cave as a drying place for her wash. from this hall or guard-room two staircases cut in the rock lead to other chambers also rock-hewn higher up. the second main stair outside gives access to a second series of chambers. unfortunately, some rather lofty modern buildings have been erected in front of this cliff castle, so as to render it impossible to make of it an effective sketch or to take a satisfactory photograph. still more interesting is la roche corail below angoulême on the river charente, opposite nersac and the confluence of the boeme with the charente. where is now a bridge was formerly a ford. the castle of nersac commanded one side of the valley, and la roche corail the other. this cliff castle was at one time very extensive. the rock rises from a terrace partly natural and partly artificial, on which a comparatively modern château has been erected that masks the rock-face. but on entering the court behind the château the bare cliff is seen with a yawning opening halfway up, and indentations in the wall of rock show that at one time there were hanging barbacans and chambers suspended before the rock as well as others hewn out of it. to reach the interior it is necessary to enter a grange that has been built at right angles to the rock, and in it to mount a ladder to another granary that occupies a floor of solid rock. thence a second ladder leads into the caves. formerly, however, the ascent was made by steps cut in the side of the cliff, and openings from within enabled the garrison with pikes to precipitate below any who were daring enough to venture up the steps uninvited. the ladder gives admission through a broken door cut in the rock into a long vaulted hall, that was formerly floored across so as to convert it into two storeys. [footnote: actually the doorway and three lower openings look into the dark granary. in the illustration i have shown them as letting light in, as intended originally.] the lower storey or basement opens on the left-hand side into a second cave, and the upper by a passage cut in the rock communicated with another range of chambers looking out of the face of the crag by artificial windows. immediately in front of one entering the hall is the portal of admission to another very large hall that had originally well-shaped windows, and a door leading on to the wooden balcony, but this has all been broken away forming the ragged opening seen from below. in calvin was staying in the adjoining parish of s. saturnin with a canon of the cathedral of angoulême, who had a good library, and was disposed to favour him. the house is pointed out, but it has been rebuilt or altered. a cavern there is also shown to which calvin retired to meditate on his reform. it is now a cellar full of casks, wheelbarrows, and rubbish. it was never a very pleasing resort, and he preferred to come to la roche corail where, in the cavern just described, he had more space, and less likelihood of being disturbed. and here it was that he wrote his "institute of the christian religion." one is disposed to rest here for awhile and muse, and consider what a manufactory of explosives this cavern was. from this vaulted chamber was launched that doctrine which was to wreck nearly every church in france and drench the soil in blood. i do not in the least suppose that calvin saw any beauty in the view through the gap in the rock--not in the island below with its poplars and willows whose branches trail in the bottle-green waters of the charente--not in the lush meadows with the yellow flags fluttering by the waterside--not in the grey towers of nersac castle and church rising above dark woods, flushed orange in the setting sun against a purple sky. i do not suppose that he noticed the scent of the wallflowers growing out of every fissure wafted in on the summer air. there was logic thought in his head, but no poetry in his heart, no sweetness in his soul. he looked across in the direction of angoulême, and wished he had a ladder and a hammer that he might smash the serene face of the saviour looking down on the city from the western gable of the cathedral. five and twenty years must elapse before that wondrous domed pile was to be wrecked by the huguenots, his disciples. but here it was, in this cavern, that he elaborated his system of reform, treating christianity as a french peasant treats an oak tree, pollarding it, and lopping off every lateral, natural outgrowth. assuredly, many a volatile superstition had lodged in its branches, and many a gross abuse couched under its shadow. but these might have been scared away without mutilating the tree till it was reduced to a stump. he desired, doubtless, to bring back the church to the condition in which he supposed it had been when born. but one cannot reduce an adult to the simplicity and innocence of childhood by stripping off all his clothes, and denying him the conventional figleaf. [illustration: les roches. houses built into and against the rocks.] [illustration: guÉ du loir. remains of a cliff-fortress commanding the approach to vendôme. but a small portion of this castle is visible in this plate.] having shattered the catholic faith by the crowbar of his logic, he sought to build up a grotto out of its fragments, and call it a church. his "institute of the christian religion" was published the following year. it produced the desired effect at once. there were many reasons why it should. earnest and devout souls were troubled at the sight of a christianity that was so in name but had little christianity in its practice. they felt that the church had drifted far out of its way and had grounded on quicksands, and they thought that the sole way of saving the hulk was to cast all its precious lading into the sea. christ's church had been founded on a rock, it had withstood the rain and the flood, but was crumbling down with dry rot. calvin would have neither the rock nor the sand. into the mud he drove the piles by the strokes of his genius, on which to erect the platform that was to uphold the conventicle of his followers, and if that did not stand, it would at least mark its site by their dejections. and dejections there are everywhere, where the calvinists were, wrecked churches, mutilated monuments, broken glass, and shattered sculpture. ruskin, remarking on some delicate carving at lyons, under a pedestal, observes that the mediaeval sculptors exhibited absolute confidence in the public, in placing their tenderest work within reach of a schoolboy's hand. such, however, was the love of the beautiful generally diffused, that objects of art were safe from destruction or defacement. but with the outburst of calvinism all those affected were inflamed with a positive hatred of the beautiful in art. if this had been confined to the destruction of images to which idolatrous worship was offered, it would be explicable and justifiable, but it extended to the most innocuous objects. delicate tracery such as adorns the west front of the church of vendôme, a lace-work of beautiful sculpture representing trailing roses and vines, birds and reptiles, was ruthlessly hacked. churches, cathedrals, were blown up with gunpowder--such was the fate of the cathedrals of montauban, périgueux, and orléans. beza himself rolled the barrels of gunpowder to explode under the great piers that sustained the central tower of orleans. [footnote: in montgomery was preparing to blow up the beautiful cathedral of condon, only consecrated thirty-eight years before, but accepted as its ransom from the inhabitants the sum of , livres.] the cry for reform was loud, and rang from every quarter of europe except from the vatican, where the pope, like dame partington with her mop, thought to stay its progress. the grandsons of the old _routiers_ cried fie on this quiet life, and snuffed the air for rapine. the nobility were out of pocket and out at elbows, and looked with avaricious eyes on the fair and broad lands of the church, and their fingers itched to be groping in her treasury, and they hoped to patch their jerkins with her costly vestments. court favourites were abbots _in commendam_, held prebendaries, without being in holy orders, sixfold pluralists abounded, ecclesiastical hippopotami, that might fairly be hunted. all kinds of interests were enlisted against the church, good and bad, sincere and hypocritical, only a spokesman was needed, a trumpet sound to call to the battle, and calvin proved the spokesman, and his "institute" was the trumpet note. an outpost station that is curious and puzzling is la rochebrune on the dronne, below brantôme. the road to bourdeilles and périgueux runs immediately below a chain of very fine chalk cliffs, and there is but just space for it between the steep slope below them and the river. at one point about a mile and a half below brantôme, the cliff is broken through, where a lateral valley opens on that of the dronne: here there is a _talus_ overgrown with box and juniper leading up to a rock, of inconsiderable height, with some holes in it, overhanging, and capped with brushwood that at one time also covered the slope below the rock. by the roadside, immediately under this rock, is the opening into a cave that admits into another much larger, and lighted from above, and in which at the extremity is a passage leading upwards, now choked with earth and stone. the original entrance to the cave has been destroyed through the widening of the highroad, so that it is now impossible to tell whether it was effectually concealed or whether precautions had been taken for its defence. at one spot only in the rocks above is there a gap, and through that gap, probably once walled up, access is obtained into a sort of circular courtyard, where there are traces of a fireplace, and where is a stone bench. from this court a spiral staircase, rock-hewn, leads to the platform on top of the rocks. in the wall on the right of the court is a doorway neatly cut in the chalk, square-headed and adapted for a framed door that could be strongly barricaded. immediately within is a quadrangular pit sunk in the floor, now choked with stones. this, in such a position, could not be a silo, it probably was the opening through which those who entered the cave from below, by the road, made their way into the interior of the fortress. stepping over this pit one enters a hall with six large round holes cut in the roof communicating with an upper chamber, and receiving a borrowed light through them. a spiral staircase at the side furnished with _meurtrières_ through which the besieged could stab at their enemies, leads to the upper hall or chamber, which is lighted by two rude windows, one high up, the other low down, and with a bench recess opposite them. but the strange and perplexing feature of this room is that it has in the floor eight round holes, each large enough to let a man fall through. six communicate with the chamber below, but the other two open under the overhanging cornice, outside the castle. one of the holes--opening into the nether chamber, is precisely where would rest the feet of men seated on the bench. there is no trace of a groove to receive covers to these holes. it has been conjectured that this strange construction was a granary, in which the peasants concealed their corn; but there are difficulties in accepting this theory. the rochebrune commands the road, and a hiding place would assuredly be located in the depths of a wood, away from a highroad, in some secluded valley. it has been conjectured that the holes served for discharging the corn into the lower chamber. but why carry it by a narrow winding stair aloft to pour it down into a nether cave, when the latter, the supposed granary, itself was at once accessible through the doorway? moreover, two of the holes open outwards, and not into the supposed store-chamber. it may be said that these were for hauling up the sacks of corn, but the incline on which they open is so steep, that it would be a prodigious waste of labour to drag the corn up under the cornice in which they are, whereas the other ascent is easy. the precautions taken to provide means of stabbing at an assailant point to this having been a fortress. my interpretation of the puzzle is this: first, that the left hand stair leading to the summit of the crag enabled one of the defenders to light a beacon, so as to warn the people of brantôme when danger threatened; that next, the garrison, which could not have comprised more than five or six men, as rochebrune is very small, retired within the rock. if this courtyard were invaded, they escaped into the lower chamber and barred the door, and were able to thrust at assailants through the slots. but if the door yielded they would scramble up the rock stair into the upper apartment, and as the enemy broke into the lower cavern, they stabbed and thrust at them through the six holes in the floor. should their position be rendered untenable, they could slip through the two holes that opened outwards, into the brushwood and so effect their escape; for these holes would not be perceived, or their purpose understood by besiegers unfamiliar with the castle. usually, over the floor, riddled like a colander, planks were laid, that on emergency could be turned up on their sides. i may add that the windows opening outwards are purposely so inartificially made that no one passing along the road underneath would suspect that there was a fortress above his head. he would certainly suppose that these holes were natural, such as are commonly found in the chalk cliffs. in fact the first time i visited brantôme, and walked down the river to bourdeilles, i passed this rock and entertained no suspicion that it contained anything remarkable, that it was as a matter of fact, a mere shell, with all the artificial work within. why was it that every city--nay, every little town--had to be not only walled about but to have its outposts? because france was not a nation, only a congeries of individualities. as michelet says of the fourteenth century: "the kingdom was powerless, dying, losing self-consciousness, prostrate as a corpse. gangrene had set in, maggots swarmed, i mean the brigands, english and navarese. all this rottenness isolated, detached the members of the poor body from one another. one talks of the kingdom, but there were no states general, nothing at all general, no intercommunication, the roads were in the power of cut-throats. the fields were all battlefields, war was everywhere, and none could distinguish friend from foe." how needful these outposts were may be judged from what froissart says: "rogues took advantage of such times (of truce), and robbed both towns and castles; so that some of them, becoming rich, constituted themselves captains of bands of thieves; there were among them those worth forty thousand crowns. their method was to mark out particular towns or castles, a day or two's journey from each other; then they collected twenty or thirty robbers, and travelling through by-roads in the night-time, about daybreak entered the town or castle they had fixed upon, and set one of the houses on fire. when the inhabitants perceived it they thought it had been a body of soldiers sent to destroy them, and took to their heels as fast as they could" (bk. i., c. ). passing on from the outposts to towns, or defences to highways, we must glance at such as guard the approaches to countries, or such as gibraltar that commands the great waterway between the mediterranean and the atlantic. gibraltar is certainly the most complete and marvellous of all cliff castles. this is too well known to english travellers to need description here. the french gibraltar, urdos, commands one of the passes through the pyrenees. it is hewn out of the mountain in a buttress of rock, and rises in stages from the road to the height of feet. externally the mountain looks harmless enough. a cave opens here, and a rift there, and a few streaks of masonry may be noticed, but actually the mountain is riddled with galleries, batteries, and long flights of stairs, and hollowed out for ammunition and other stores; and it is capable of containing a garrison of three thousand men. faron also, feet high, with its magnificent precipices of salmon- coloured limestone, commanding both the harbour of toulon and the bay of hyères, is capped with fortifications and pierced with batteries, casemates, and chambers for military stores, a position made by nature and utilised with supreme skill. nor must the chain of rock-forts of campi delle alte and of mont agel above monaco, dominating the corniche road be forgotten, ready to drop bombs amidst an army from italy venturing along that splendid road, nor must besançon be forgotten, occupying its inaccessible rock--inaccessible that is, to an enemy. "oppidum maximum sequanorum," as caesar described it in his day; "natura loci sic muniebatur ut magnam ad ducendum bellum daret facultatem." ehrenbreitstein faces the opening of the moselle into the rhine; and frankenfeste holds the key of the brennerpass; and dover castle commands the strait at its narrowest. königstein crowning a precipitous rock feet above the elbe, though in saxony is garrisoned by prussians, guards the pass down the river from bohemia; and peterwardein is a rock-built fortress, that has been called the ehrenbreitstein and gibraltar of the danube. what are these frontier fortresses but the same on an extensive scale as the gué du loir, the roche corail, and the rochebrune? in the middle ages every city, every little town had to have its outposts and watch-tower on the look-out for the enemy, and to break the first impetus of an attack. but now it is not the town but the nation that has to gird itself about with frontier fortresses. chapter vii subterranean churches when the periods of persecution of the early christians had come to an end, and they were able in security to assemble for worship, two distinct types of church contested for the supremacy--the basilican and the catacumbal. even during the times before constantine, when persecution was in abeyance, christians had been accustomed to gather together for the divine mysteries in private houses. but after that christianity was recognised and favoured, the wealthy and noble citizens of rome, italy, and africa, who had become christians, made over their stately reception halls, or basilicas, to be converted into churches. these basilicas, attached to most palaces, were halls comprising usually a nave with side aisles separated from the nave by ranges of columns, and an apse at the extremity of the nave in which the master of the house was wont to sit to receive his clients and his guests. this is the type upon which cathedral and parish churches in east and west are modelled. but the early christians had become accustomed in times of danger to resort to the subterranean chapels in the catacombs. the poorer members doubtless preferred these dingy meeting-places to the lordly halls of the nobles, and the slaves could not feel their equality with their masters under the same roof where they had served, and been whipped, as in the catacombs, where all were one in fear of their lives and in the darkness that, buried distinction. moreover, the cult of the martyrs had grown to a passion, and it had become customary to commemorate their nativities as it was called, _i.e._ the anniversaries of their deaths, at their tombs in the catacombs. it was there that the faithful habitually prayed, it was near the bones of the saints that it was believed special sanctity dwelt, and that prayers were most effectually answered through their intercession; and it was there, _ad martyres_, that they themselves purposed to be laid in expectation of the resurrection. in rome, the tombs of the martyrs continued to enjoy popular favour, and to attract crowds, till the incursion of the lombards, when, to save the relics of the saints from profanation, they were transferred to the basilicas within the walls, whereupon the catacombs ceased to interest the faithful, that were neglected and allowed to fall into oblivion. gaul rejoiced in having had its soil watered with the blood of many witnesses to the faith, consequently it had numerous hypogee chapels, and when, to the martyrs were added hermits, abbots, bishops, devout women, and confessors of all descriptions, their underground tombs became extraordinarily numerous, and were resorted to with great devotion. such was the origin of the crypts found in profusion in france, not under cathedrals only, but under parish and monastic churches as well. the whole population having become christian, the resort to these subterranean chapels became so great as to cause inconvenience, and the bishops proceeded to "elevate" "illate" and "translate" the bones of the saints from their original resting-places to the basilicas above ground. thereupon the crypts lost most of their attraction, and the worshippers gathered about the altars in the upper churches to which the bones had been transferred. in britain, where there were no early martyrs save alban at verulam, and julius and aaron at caerleon, the type of church from the beginning was basilican, as we may see by that unearthed at silchester, and that of s. martin at canterbury. it was the same in germany and throughout northern europe. john and paul were chamberlains to the princess constantia. they had in some way incurred the anger of the emperor julian, and he sent orders for their despatch in their own house on the coelian hill. they were accordingly executed in their bath, and were buried in the cellar under their mansion. at once a rush of the devout of rome took place to the coelian to invoke the aid of these new martyrs. the visitors picked off the plaster, scribbled their names on the walls, applied kerchiefs to the tomb, and collected the dust, stained with the blood of the chamberlains. pope hadrian iv., , built a basilica on top of the house, driving the foundations through it, and transferred to this upper church the bones of ss. john and paul. at once the stream of devotion was deflected from the substructure to the superstructure, and the former was filled up with earth and totally abandoned. herbert spencer has established in his "principles of sociology" that the mausoleum was the egg out of which the temple was evolved. the first cave-dwellers buried their dead in the grottoes in which they had lived, and themselves moved into others. they periodically revisited the sepulchres to bring offerings to the dead. in time the deceased ancestor became invested by the imagination of his descendants with supernatural powers, and ascended from stage to stage till he was exalted into a deity. thenceforth his cave became a temple. ferguson, writing of the chaldæan temples, and indicating their resemblance to tombs says, "the most celebrated example of this form is as often called (by ancient writers) the tomb or the temple of belus, and among a turanian people the tomb and the temple may be considered as one and the same thing." [footnote: clement of alexandria (exhort. to the heathen) had already said, "temples were originally tombs." _cf_. also eusebius (præp. evangelica ii. ) heads the chapter, "the temples of the gods that are none other than tombs."] in the primitive church there were, as we have seen, churches which had no connection whatever with sepulchres, and chapels underground that contained tombs. the current of popular feeling set so strongly towards the latter that the popes yielded to it, as did also the bishops, and converted every basilica into a mausoleum by the transfer to it of the bones of a saint. but that was not all. the holy mysteries had been celebrated in private houses and basilicas on wooden tables, sometimes square, but often round, and with three legs. an illustration is in the cemetery of s. calixtus, of the latter half of the second century, where a priest is represented celebrating at what looks like a modern tea-table. according to william of malmesbury, s. wulstan, bishop of worcester ( - ), destroyed the wooden altars in his diocese, which had been universal in england, _altarea lignea jam inde a priscis diebus in anglia_. but with the transformation of the basilica into a mausoleum, the altar was also transformed into a sepulchre. if it did not contain the entire body of a saint, it had a hole cut in it to receive a box containing relics; and the roman pontifical and liturgy were altered in accordance with this. the bishop on consecrating an altar was to exact that it should contain relics, and the priest on approaching it was required to invoke the saints whose bones were stored in it. [footnote: pontifex accepta mitra, intigit policem dextræ manus in sanctum chrisma et cum eo signat confessionem, id est sepulchrum altaris, in quo reliquiæ deponendæ. _pont. roman._ the priest on ascending to the altar kisses it, and refers to the relics contained in it. "oramus te, domine, per merita sanctorum tuorum quorum reliquiæ hic sunt--ut indulgere digneris omnia peccata mea."] the cavity in the slab to contain the relics was liturgically entitled _sepulchrum_. the change from a table to a tomb involved a change of material from wood to stone. the dedication of a church to a saint in the latin church implies the presence in the sepulchre of the altar of the relics of that saint. from the roman point of view, a dedication without the relic is unmeaning. among the celts this was unknown, with them a church took its name after its founder, and the founder of a church dedicated it by a partial fast of forty days, and prayer and vigil on the spot. the early basilicas of rome also took their titles from the families that surrendered their halls for christian worship. the introduction of dedication to deceased saints marks unmistakably the transformation of a church from a basilica to a mausoleum. it is certainly remarkable that whereas in paganism the identification of the tomb with the temple passed away, and the temple acquired independence of such association, in the latin church the reverse took place; there the church unassociated with a tomb--a basilica in fact-- was converted into a sepulchral monument. the reverence of the early pontiffs shrank from dismembering the bodies of the saints. to queen theodelinda pope gregory i. would accord only oil that had burnt in the lamps at their tombs, or ribbons that had touched them. gregory v., in , wrote to constantia augusta, who had built a church in honour of s. paul, and craved a portion of his body: "dear lady, know that the romans when they give relics of the saints are not accustomed to parcel up their bodies, they send no more than a veil that has touched them." [footnote: baronius, _hiérothonie de j. c._, paris, , p. .] but when the latin church was constrained by the force of popular prejudice to transform all her sacred temples into sepulchral churches, there was no help for it; the bodies of the saints had to be torn in pieces for distribution. a toe, a finger was taken off, legs and arms were amputated, the vertebræ of the spine were dispersed over christendom, the teeth were wrenched out of the jaws, the hair plucked from head and chin, moisture exuding from the body was carefully cherished, and bones were rasped to furnish a little sacred phosphate of lime to some church clamorous to be consecrated. a plateau to the south of poitiers had long borne the name of chiron martyrs. chiron means a heap of stones, but why the epithet of martyrs attached to the heaps of stones there nobody knew. the old roman road leading to and athwart it was named la route des martyrs, also for no known reason. but in october the plateau was being levelled by the military authorities, when it was discovered that the stones were actually broken tombs, and that they were clearing a pagan necropolis. soon they came on a portion where were sarcophagi orientated and crowded thickly about a subterranean building. the distinguished antiquary, le père de la croix, now undertook the investigation, and discovered that these latter were the tombs of christians, and that they surrounded a hypogee martyrium. this was excavated and proved to be a chapel erected over the bodies of certain martyrs of poitiers, of whom no records had been preserved, or at all events remained, whose very existence was unknown; also, that it had been constructed by an abbot mellebaudes at the end of the sixth or beginning of the seventh century. it contained an altar built up of stone, plastered over and painted, measuring at the base feet - / inches by feet inches and feet inches high. also sarcophagi for the bodies of the martyrs there found, also one that mellebaudes had prepared for himself. in the floor were many graves, possibly of his kinsfolk. numerous inscriptions in barbarous latin, some paintings and carvings, were also found. among the latter a rude sculpture represented two of the martyrs, hilarius and sosthenes, who had been crucified. a bracelet of amber and coloured glass beads, amber ear-rings, and bronze ornaments were also discovered. [illustration: plan of the martyrium. - . stone sarcophagi. , , , , . graves sunk in the rock, covered with flat slabs, containing bones. . pit covered with a carved slab. , . children's graves covered with carved slabs brought from elsewhere. . pit containing no bones. a. altar. b. arcosolium containing the sarcophagus with the bones of the martyrs. c. the sculpture of the crucified saints. d. doorway. f.f. pilasters. o.o. broken pilasters. g.g. benches. h. sarcophagus of mellebaudes. e. east window.] mellebaudes certainly built his mausoleum where there had been one earlier, that had become completely ruinous, for he complains that he had not been able to recover all the bones of the martyrs that had been laid in it. this destruction had probably been effected by the visigoths, and the building by mellebaudes took place some time after the defeat and expulsion of these arians in . the final ruin of the martyrium he raised may have been the work of the saracens in . [footnote: for full account with plates see p. camille de la croix, _s. j. hypogée martyrium de poitiers, paris, ._] the hypogee was sunk nine feet in the rock, but the roof must have shown above ground. a window was to the east. s. avitus in the sixth century speaks of the wondrous skill of architects in his day, who contrived to introduce daylight into the crypts. it is evident that no glass was inserted in the window, although the use of glass for windows was becoming general in the sixth century; and fortunatus, bishop of poitiers, died , and gregory, bishop of tours, died , both speak in terms of admiration of the glazing of windows for churches. it may well be understood that in the mind of the people long after the stream of public devotion had been directed to the churches above ground, a liking for those that are excavated underground should remain. indeed, it is not extinct yet, as any one may see who visits the church of ste. croix at poitiers, or s. eutrope at saintes, or s. martin at tours, to mention but three out of many. in all these are mere empty tombs, yet they are the resort of numerous devotees. the darkness, the mystery of these subterranean sanctuaries, impressed the imagination. accordingly we find, especially in france, many cave-churches. indeed they are so numerous that i can afford space to describe but a couple of the largest. many are small, mere chapels, and shall be dealt with under the heading of hermitages. [illustration: interior of the monolithic church of s. emilion, dordogne. height from the floor, sixty feet. it is no longer used for divine worship.] few scenes of quiet landscape can surpass that of the valley of the dordogne from the road between sauveterre and libourne. it broke on me upon a breezy spring morning. the dordogne, broad and blue, swept through the wide valley between banks dense with poplar and osier. the whole country wore a smiling aspect; the houses, built of freestone, looked fresh and comfortable, and were surrounded by their gardens. the maize-fields were as a rippling green sea. the flax-fields in bloom were sheets of the tenderest blue, and those of the _trifolium incarnatum_ red as blood, and the road was like a white ribbon binding together a variegated wreath. to the north of the dordogne rose a grey cluster of buildings, the old town of s. emilion, famous for its wine. it occupies the edge of a plateau. the only business pursued therein is the making of wine and of macaroons. the entrance to s. emilion is not striking. none of its buildings, except the keep of its castle are visible. the road dives into a grove of acacias, and then enters the town by a narrow street. the acacias were a mass of pink and white blossom, exhaling a sweet fragrance. in the middle of the eighth century lived a hermit named emilian, born of obscure parents at vannes in brittany. he became known to the count of that place, who took him into his service, where he showed himself profusely charitable to the poor with his master's substance. this led to his ignominious dismissal, and he wandered into the saintonge, entered the benedictine order, and became baker to the monastery. but he proved so objectionable there that he was turned out. so he wandered further south, and finding a rock in the forest above the dordogne, wherein was a small cave, out of which flowed a spring, he took up his abode therein. his fame soon brought disciples to him, and gathered admirers about him; and after his death in , a monastery of benedictine monks was settled there, and a town sprang up about it. the cave of s. emilion still remains. in face of it rises a mass of rock with abrupt scarp towards the west and the market-place. thence a street slopes up to the platform on the top of the rock. the front of the rock has an ambulatory before it pierced with windows and doors, and through these latter access is obtained to the interior of the rock, which is hollowed out into a stately church, dedicated to the three kings, caspar, melchior, and balthazar. this monolithic church has for its base a parallelogram measuring feet by feet. it is composed of two portions of unequal height. the anterior portion is a vestibule, narthex, or ambulatory to the church, and is only feet high. the windows in this are of the flamboyant order, and the principal doorway is richly sculptured. the body of the church into which this vestibule opens is feet long and feet high. the body consists of a nave and side aisles, all excavated out of the living rock. six windows light the interior, the three in the flamboyant style already mentioned, and above, set back the whole length of the narthex under circular-headed arches, are three plain, round-headed windows, like a clerestory, opening into the nave and aisles, one window in each. looking from the market-place at the church the spectators would suppose that the nave ran parallel with the vestibule, but this is not the case, it is at right angles to it. [illustration: interior of the monolithic church, aubeterre, charente. showing the gallery of communication to the seigneural pew, seen in face. the supports of the gallery vault have crumbled away within forty years, through neglect.] the small upper windows cast but a chill and feeble light into the vast cavern, so that the choir and chapels are buried in perpetual twilight. the windows in the vestibule do very little towards the illumination of the interior. at the extremity of the nave, which is raised on steps to form a choir, anciently stood the high altar, but this has been removed. above, where it was can be discerned faintly through the obscurity, a bas-relief rudely sculptured, but very curious. it occupies the entire width of the choir; on the right is an angel playing upon a stringed instrument, with outspread wings, as if in the attitude of soaring, and on the left, perched on a rock, is a monstrous animal with gaping jaws, bristling mane, and raised paws. in the midst of the group is a little old man armed with a stick, apparently repelling this monster. it has been conjectured that this is intended as a representation of the saint himself ready to deliver his votaries from the jaws of hell. but it is more probable that the whole subject is allegorical of death, armed with his scythe between the powers of light and of darkness. the choir arch is one of the boldest and most original conceptions in this marvellous temple. it consists of two gigantic angels carved out of the sandstone, with their feet upon the piers on each side, and their heads nearly meeting at the crown of the vault. each has four wings, the two smaller wings are raised about their heads, forming a nimbus to each. the other two wings are depressed. these mighty angels were formerly whitened and partially gilt, and the effect of the great figures looming out of the dark vault is most impressive. on the right side of the nave, at the spring of the arches, between two of the piers, is a centaur armed with a bow, cut in the stone, and on the opposite spandril are two goats, disposed back to back, also cut in the rock. on one of the piers is an inscription graven regarding the dedication of the church, but unfortunately the date is illegible. the exterior of the church is adorned with a noble portal, richly sculptured, of much later date than the church within. on entering the church through this rich portal a feeling of astonishment comes over one. the exterior in no way corresponds with the interior, which is void of ornament. the piers are massive parallelograms without mouldings, the arches between them semicircular, stilted, perfectly plain; a string alone marks the rise of the arch from the pier. in the floor of one of the aisles is a hole through which a descent was anciently made into the crypt below the church; this crypt also is hewn in the solid rock, and has a funnel-shaped dome, a spiral flight of steps was cut in the rock round it descending from the church into the crypt. the descent must have been hazardous in the extreme unless the stairs were provided with a balustrade, of which at present no trace remains. admittance into the crypt is also obtained through a door cut in the face of the rock, but this was made in when the soil and the bones of the old canons of the church of the three kings were required for saltpetre to make gunpowder for the armies of the republic. over the door is a mask carved in the stone and a little window; above the monolithic church, standing on the platform of rock, is the exquisite flamboyant spire, not communicating with the church beneath, also a modern _salle de danse_. another subterranean church as interesting but not as well preserved is that of aubeterre in charente, on the dronne. by the valley of the dronne all movement of troops from the limousin and perigord into the saintonge took place, and the rock of aubeterre was considered of so great military importance that a strong castle was constructed on the summit, and its possession was contested repeatedly during the hundred years' war and the wars of religion. its position was peculiar in this also, that it was in the seneschauté of the angoumois, in the diocese of périgueux, and for the purpose of taxation in the limousin. [illustration: rocamadour. a cluster of chapels, some excavated in the rock. zacchæus is erroneously supposed to have lived and died in one of them. a famous place of pilgrimage.] the town is built in the form of an amphitheatre on a chalk hill that commands the dronne. the hill is precipitous in parts, and is everywhere so steep that the roofs of the houses are below the gardens of those above them, and the saying there is, "mind that your cattle be not found in your neighbour's stable by tumbling through the roof." the castle occupied a height cut off from the town by a deep cleft, that has its sides pierced with caverns, and its store chambers and cellars are dug out of the rock. but the most curious feature of aubeterre is the monolithic church of s. john beneath the castle. the doorway admitting into it is on the level of the street, and gives access to a charnel-house with what would be termed _arcosolia_ in the catacombs, on each side, and the floor is humpy with graves. this is feet long by feet wide. on the right hand it gives admission through a doorway cut in the rock to the church itself, consisting of a nave and side aisle divided from it by massive monolithic piers, very much decayed at the top. it is lighted by three round-headed windows like a clerestory without glass. at the further end is an arch admitting to an apse, in the midst of which is an octagonal monolithic tomb of renaissance style, with columns at the angles, and surmounted by the statue of francois d'esparbes de lussac, marshal of aubeterre, and the much mutilated figure of his wife in carrara marble. a gallery excavated in the rock above the arch into the apse is continued the whole length of the aisle, and turns to admit into the seigneural gallery or pew high up over the entrance whence he and his family could hear divine service. on the right-hand side of the nave opens a second charnel-house, called by the people "the old church," also with its _arcosolia_; there is also a door by which exit is obtained into a small cemetery overgrown with briars and thorns, and with the head-crosses reeling in all directions, and utterly neglected. for centuries not this yard only, nor the two charnel-houses but also the floor of the church, have served as the burial-place of the citizens of aubeterre, and the floor is raised four feet above that of the apse though frequent interments. the last head cross i noted within the church bore the date . the height of the church is said to be fifty feet. the castle above was sold about sixty years ago to a small tradesman of the town, who straightway pulled it down and disposed of the stones for building purposes, and out of the lead of the gutters, conduits, and windows made sufficient to pay the purchase-money. then he converted the site into a cabbage garden and vineyard. not content with this he brought a stream of water in to nourish his cabbages. this leaks through and is rapidly disintegrating and ruining the church beneath, that was protected so long as the castle stood above it. seven years ago the arched gallery in the aisle was perfect, now it has crumbled away. the piers were also intact, now they are corroded at the top. a stream pours down through the vault continuously by the monument of the marshal. the church is classed as a _monument historique_, nevertheless nothing was done to prevent the damage effected by the destruction of the covering castle, and nothing is done now to preserve it from utter disintegration. in my opinion the apse was excavated to receive the monument, which consists of a mass of chalk in position, with a hole on one side to receive the coffins let down into the seigneural vault; and this could not have been there with a high altar behind it. in a lateral chapel is a hole in the vault, through which the ropes passed to pull the bells that were hung in a tower above, but which has been destroyed. [illustration: aubeterre, charente. mausoleum of francois espartes in the choir of the subterranean church.] in aubeterre was in the possession of the english, and they sold it to the count of perigord. when the huguenot troubles began, the lord of aubeterre threw himself into the movement and appropriated the lands and revenues of the ecclesiastical foundations in the town. françois d'aubeterre was involved in the conspiracy of amboise, and was sentenced to death, but pardoned. he deemed it expedient, however, to go to geneva, where, as brantôme informs us, he turned button-maker. in he was back again in aubeterre, and converted the monolithic church into a preaching "temple," sweeping away all catholic symbols, and it remains bare of them to this day. his brother, guy bonchard, bishop of périgueux, was also an ardent calvinist, and used his position for introducing preachers of the sect into the churches. although disbelieving in episcopacy, he did not see his way to surrendering the emoluments of his see. he was deposed in , and peter fournier elected, whom the huguenots murdered in his bed th july . in jeanne d'albret issued orders to the gangs of men she sent through the country to lay hold of the royal revenues, to sequestrate and appropriate all ecclesiastical property, to raise taxes to pay themselves, and to require all municipalities to furnish from four to five soldiers apiece to replenish their corps. jeanne's power extended over lower navarre, béarn, the land of albret, foix, armagnac, and other great seigneuries. through her husband, antoine de bourbon, she could rule and torture perigord, the bourbonais, and the vendomois. she had good cause to be offended with the pope, for in , with incredible folly, he threatened her with deposition from her throne, a threat he could not possibly execute. by enrolling and sending forth over the south to ravage and confiscate, she was a second pandora letting loose the hurricane, slaughter, fire, famine, and pestilence, leaving hope locked up behind. aubeterre played a conspicuous part in the wars of religion, and the catholics in vain essayed to take it. the seigneur could always draw from the bands of calvinist soldiery to hold it, and it remained in their power till the peace of la rochelle. i might include rocamadour in the department of lot among the interesting rock churches. it consists of a cluster of chapels clinging to the rock or dug out of it, and looking like a range of swallows' nests plastered against the face of the cliff. the people of the place fondly hold that zaccheus, who climbed up a sycamore tree to see our lord pass by, came into quercy, and having a natural propensity for climbing, scrambled up the face of the precipice to a hole he perceived in it, and there spent the remainder of his days, and changed his name to amator. no trace of such an identification occurs before , when pope martin v. affirmed it in a bull, although in the local breviary there was no such identification. it is extremely doubtful whether any saint of the name of amator settled here, the story concerning him is an appropriation from lucca. [footnote: _analecta bollandiana_, t. xxviii., pp. _et seq_.] but i will not describe this, one of the most remarkable sites in europe, as i have done so already in my "deserts of southern france," and as of late years it has been visited by a good many english tourists, and the french railway stations exhibit highly coloured views of it, turning rocamadour into a national show place. at lirac, in gard, is la sainte baume, a small church or chapel, excavated out of the rock, feet long, feet wide, and feet high. it is lighted by an aperture in the vault. three other caves behind the choir are almost as large. at mimet, in bouches-du-rhône, is the church of our lady of the angels, hewn out of limestone rock, with stalactites depending from the roof. at peyre, near millau, in tarn, is the church of s. christophe, scooped out of the living rock, with above it an old crenellated bell tower. [illustration: subterranean church, aubeterre. looking east. in the choir is the mausoleum. the floor of the church is raised four feet by it having been made the parish cemetery. the process of degradation of the pillars is noticeable at their heads.] at caudon, on the dordogne, now in the parish of domme, the old parish church is monolithic, entirely excavated in the rock, but with a structural bell-cot above it. as already mentioned, caudon was a parish, but as owing to the devastations of the companies, all the inhabitants had deserted it and fled to spain, it was annexed to domme. what is curious is that before it had been carved out of the limestone as a church there had been cave-dwellers in or about it, that have left their traces in the sides of the church. the marquis de maleville, who has his château near, has put the church in thorough repair, and it is still occasionally used. natural caves have been employed as churches or places of worship. thus the grotte des fées, near nimes, was used by the calvinists for their religious assemblies before , when they obtained the mastery of the town, sacked the bishop's palace, and filled up the well with the catholics, whom they precipitated into it, some dead and others half alive. the grotte de jouclas, near rocamadour, served the villagers of la cave till the parish church was rebuilt. at gurat, in charente, the church of s. george is hollowed out of the rock; it dates from the tenth century, it is believed, and preceded the present parish church, which was erected in the eleventh century, and is romanesque. in the valley of the borrèze, near souillac (lot), is a cave in which bones of the _ursus spel�us_ have been found. it is used as a chapel to notre dame de ste. esperance. at lanmeur, in brittany, is the very early crypt of s. melor, a breton prince put to death about the year . the legend concerning him is rich in mythical particulars. his uncle, so as to incapacitate him from attaining the crown of léon, cut off his right hand and left foot. the boy was then provided with a silver hand and a brazen foot. one day he was seen to use his silver hand in plucking filberts off a tree, whereupon his uncle had him murdered. the crypt is the most ancient monument of christian architecture in brittany. it measures feet by feet inches, and is divided into a nave and side aisles by two ranges of columns hardly feet high, sustaining depressed arches not rising above feet inches, and decorated with rudely sculptured trailing branches. [illustration: section of the dolmen chapel of the seven sleepers near plouaret.] a still more curious subterranean chapel is near plouaret, in côtes-du- nord. it is, in fact, a prehistoric dolmen under a tumulus, on top of which a chapel was erected in - . the descent into the crypt is by a flight of steps. the primitive monument consisted of two huge capstones of granite supported by four or five vertically planted uprights, but one, if not two of the latter have been removed. at the east end is an altar to the seven sleepers, and the comical dolls representing them stand in a niche above the altar. in the north-west of spain, at cangas-de-ones, near oviedo, is a little church of probably the tenth or eleventh century, built on top of a cairn that covers a dolmen. this latter consists of a circular chamber into which leads a gallery composed of fifteen upright slabs, covered by four others. the dolmen served as a crypt to the church, and from it have been recovered objects in stone and copper of a prehistoric period. a writer in the seventeenth century says that in his time devotees regarded the dolmen as the tomb of a saint, and scrabbled up the soil, and carried it away as a remedy against sundry maladies. [footnote: _revue mensuelle de l'ecole d'anthropologie_, paris, .] [illustration: plan of the dolmen chapel near plouaret.] the bretons have a ballad, _gwerz_, concerning the former monument. it is a miraculous structure dating from the creation of the world: "who will doubt that it was built by the hand of the almighty? you ask me when and how it was constructed. i reply that i believe that when the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all were created, then was this also made." although the dolmen is no longer underground, i must refer to that of confolens near s. germain-sur-vienne, because it was originally under a tumulus. it is a dolmen, of which only the cover, a huge mass of granite remains intact, in an island of the vienne. underneath the slab are sculptured a stone axe with handle, and one without, also a cross. the capstone rests on four pillars of the twelfth century. mr. ferguson erroneously claimed the dolmen as evidence that rude stone monuments continued to be erected till late in the middle ages. but, in fact, the pillars are not of equal length, their capitals are not in line, nor are their bases. what is obvious is that the rude stone supports were removed one by one, and the gothic pillars inserted in their place were cut exactly to the length required. thus altered, the dolmen served as a baldachin or canopy over the stone christian altar that is still in place beneath it. about this monument a chapel had been erected with apse to the east, measuring feet by feet. this has been destroyed, but the foundations remained till recently. the cross on the capstone was cut when the prehistoric monument was converted to use by christians. to descend to the floor of the chapel a flight of steps had been constructed. the chapel was dedicated to s. mary magdalen. in egypt, in the levant, cave-churches are common. the chapel of agios niketos, in crete, is now merely a smoke begrimed grotto beneath a huge mass of rock on the mountain side. the roof is elaborately ornamented with paintings representing incidents in the gospel story, and the legend of s. nicolas. though it is no longer employed as a church, an event that is said to have happened some centuries ago invests it with special regard by the natives. the church was crowded with worshippers on the eve of the feast of the patron, when the fires which the villagers who had assembled there had lighted near the entrance, where they were bivouacking for the night, attracted the attention of a barbary corsair, then cruising off the island, and guided him to the spot unobserved. suddenly and unexpectedly he and his crew, having stolen up the hill, burst upon the crowd of frightened cretans. the corsairs thereupon built up the entrance, and waited for day, the better to secure their captives for embarkation. but happily there was another exit from the cavern behind the altar, and by this the whole congregation escaped into another cave, and thence by a passage to a further opening, through which they stole out unobserved by the pirates. the rock-hewn church of dayn aboo hannes, "the convent of father john," in egypt, near antinoe, has its walls painted with subjects from the new testament; the church is thought to date back to the time of constantine. the passion for associating grottoes with sacred themes is shown in the location of the site of the nativity at bethlehem. there is nothing in the gospel to lead us to suppose that the event took place in a cave, though it is not improbable that it did so. the scene of the annunciation was also a rock-hewn cave, now occupied by a half- underground church, out of which flows the virgin's fountain. in gethsemane, "the chapel of the tomb of the virgin, over the traditional spot where the mother of our lord was buried by the apostles, is mostly underground. three flights of steps lead down to the space in front of it, so that nothing is seen above ground but the porch. but even after you have gone down the three flights of steps you are only at the entrance to the church, amidst marble pillars, flying buttresses, and pointed arches. forty-seven additional marble steps, descending in a broad flight nineteen feet wide, lead down a further depth of thirty-five feet, and here you are surrounded by monkish sites and sacred spots. the whole place is, in fact, two distinct natural caves, enlarged and turned to their present uses with infinite care. far below the ground you find a church thirty-one yards long and nearly seven wide, lighted by many lamps, and are shown the tomb of the father and mother of the virgin, and that of joseph and the virgin herself. and as if this were not enough, a long subterranean gallery leads down six steps more to a cave eighteen yards long, half as broad, and about twelve feet wide, which you are told is the cavern of the agony." [footnote: geikie (c.), "the holy land and the bible," lond. , ii.p. .] stanley says: [footnote: "sinai and palestine," lond. , p. .] "the moment that the religion of palestine fell into the hands of europeans, it is hardly too much to say that as far as sacred traditions are concerned, it became 'a religion of caves,' of those very caves which in earlier times had been unhallowed by any religious influence whatever. wherever a sacred association had to be fixed, a cave was immediately selected or found as its home. first in antiquity is the grotto of bethlehem, already in the second century regarded by popular belief as the scene of the nativity. next comes the grotto on mount olivet, selected as the scene of our lord's last conversation before the ascension. these two caves, eusebius emphatically asserts, were the first seats of the worship established by the empress helena, to which was shortly afterwards added a third--the sacred cave of the sepulchre. to these were rapidly added the cave of the invention of the cross, the cave of the annunciation at nazareth, the cave of the agony at gethsemane, the cave of the baptism in the wilderness of s. john, the cave of the shepherds of bethlehem. and then again, partly perhaps the cause, partly the effect of the consecration of grottoes, began the caves of the hermits. there were the cave of s. pelagia on mount olivet, the caves of s. jerome, s. paula, and s. eustochium at bethlehem, the cave of s. saba in the ravine of kedron, the remarkable cells hewn or found in the precipices of the quarrantania or mount of the temptation above jericho. in some few instances this selection of grottoes would coincide with the events thus intended to be perpetuated, as for example, the hiding-place of the prophets on carmel, and the sepulchres of the patriarchs and of our lord. but in most instances the choice is made without the sanction, in some instances in defiance of, the sacred narrative." it is questionable whether dean stanley is right in attributing the identification of caves with sacred sites to europeans, it is probable enough that the local christians had already fixed upon some if not all of them. after the pilgrims or the crusaders had come in their thousands and visited the holy sites, they returned to their native lands deeply impressed with the association of caves with everything that was held sacred, and this, added to the dormant sense of reverence for places underground consecrated to holy purposes that had come to them from their parents, must have tended to the multiplication of subterranean churches. in some venerated caves and in certain crypts are springs of water that are held to be invested with miraculous properties. the crypts of s. peter in the vatican, s. ponziana and s. alessandro, have such flowing springs. in the crypt of the church of gorlitz is a well, and from that of the cathedral of paderborn issues one of the sources of the river pader. the kilian spring rises in the crypt of the new minster in würzburg. out of the cave of the monastery of brantôme, to be described in another chapter, streams a magnificent source. most of the water is employed for the town and for the washerwomen, but one little rill from it is conducted to an ornate fountain, that bears the name of s. sicarius (little cut-throat), one of the innocents of bethlehem slain by order of herod. it is explained that by some means or other charlemagne obtained his bones, but how the infant of a hebrew mother acquired a latin name has not been attempted to be explained. chapter viii rock hermitages there is an account in the _times'_ correspondent's record of colonel younghusband's expedition to lhasa that when read haunts the imagination. it is the description made by mr. landon of a buddhist monastery, nyen-de-kyl-buk, where the inmates enter as little children and grow up with the prospect of being literally immured in a cave from which the light of day is excluded as well as the society of their fellow-men, there to spend the rest of their life till they rot. horace may say: jubeas miserum esse, libenter quatenus id facit; but few christians can feel this towards another human being, though of another race, religion, and under another clime. "these men," said the abbot to mr. landon, "live here in the mountain of their own free will; a few of them are allowed a little light whereby reading is possible, but these are the weaker brethren; the others live in darkness in a square cell partly hewn out of the sharp slope of the rock, partly built up, with the window just within reach of the upraised hand. there are three periods of immurement. the first is endured for six months, the second, upon which a monk may enter at any time he pleases, or not at all, is for three years and ninety-three days; the third and last period is for life. only this morning," said the abbot, "a hermit died after having lived in darkness for twenty- five years." mr. landon goes on to say: "voluntary this self-immolation is said to be, and perhaps technically speaking it is possible for the pluckier souls to refuse to go on with this hideous and useless form of self-sacrifice, but the grip of the lamas is omnipotent, and practically none refuse." he describes a visit to the cell of one of those thus immured: "the abbot led us into a small courtyard which had blank walls all round it, over which a peach-tree reared its transparent pink and white against the sky. almost on a level with the ground there was an opening closed with a flat stone from behind. in front of this window was a ledge eighteen inches in width with two basins beside it, and one at each end. the abbot was attended by an acolyte, who, by his master's orders, tapped three times sharply on the stone slab. we stood in the little courtyard in the sun and watched that wicket with cold apprehension. i think, on the whole, it was the most uncanny thing i saw in all tibet. what on earth was going to appear when that stone slab, which even then was beginning weakly to quiver, was pushed aside, the wildest conjecture could not suggest. after half-a-minute's pause the stone moved, or tried to move, but it came to rest again. then, very slowly and uncertainly it was pushed back, and a black chasm was revealed. there was a pause of thirty seconds, during which imagination ran riot, but i do not think that any other thing could have been so intensely pathetic as that which we actually saw. a hand, muffled in a tightly wound piece of dirty cloth, for all the world like the stump of an arm, was painfully thrust up, and very weakly it felt along the slab. after a fruitless fumbling the hand slowly quivered back again into the darkness. a few moments later there was again one ineffectual effort, and then the stone slab moved noiselessly again across the opening. once a day water and an unleavened cake of flour is placed for the prisoner upon that slab, the signal is given, and he may take it in. his diversion is over for the day, and in the darkness of his cell, where night and day, noon, sunset, and the dawn are all alike, the poor soul has thought that another day of his long penance was over." here is another account from the pen of sven hedin. he visited the monastery of sumde-pu-pe, where was a hermitage consisting of a single room five paces each way, built over a spring that bubbles up in the centre. inside the hermit had been walled up with only a tiny tunnel communicating with the outside world. once inside, he was never again to see the light of day nor hear a human voice. the man sven hedin saw had been immured for sixty-nine years, and wished to see the sun again. "he was all bent up as small as a child, and his body was nothing but a light-grey parchment-like skin and bones. his eyes had lost their colour, and were quite bright and blind. of the monks who sixty-nine years before had conducted him to the cell not one survived.... and he had scarcely been carried out into the sunlight when he too, gave up the ghost." [footnote: "trans-himalaya: discoveries and adventures in tibet," lond. .] s. theresa once said that she had a vision of hell. the torture did not consist of flames, but in being planted opposite a blank wall, on which to gaze through all eternity. the hermit in a buddhist cell must have undergone this torture till all intelligence, all consciousness, save desire for food, was dead within him. there have been horrible instances of voluntary immurement in christian europe, and above all in the christian east; but not quite--though very nearly--as bad as this. moreover, not one line, not a single word in the scriptures inculcates such self-annihilation. christ set the example of retirement from the world into the wilderness for forty days, to a mountain apart for one night, to teach men occasionally and for a limited period, to withdraw from the swirl of business and the clatter of tongues. and s. paul retired from the society of men after his conversion to gather his thoughts together, and prepare for his great missionary work. but that was something altogether different from ascetic abnegation of life and flight from its responsibilities. the peopling of the solitudes of syria and egypt by solitaries was due, not to flight from persecution, but to revulsion from the luxury of the great cities, and very largely as an escape from compulsory military service. it was not a new thing. judaism had been impregnated with buddhism, or at all events with brahminism, and with ideas of asceticism. the essenes and therapeutæ lived, the first in the time of the maccabees upon the shores of the dead sea, and the last two centuries later, in egypt. both inhabited cells in the desert, preserving celibacy, renouncing property, pleasure, and delicate food, and consecrating their time to the study of the scriptures, and to prayer. and yet celibacy was in violation of the principles of judaism, which required every man to marry, in the hopes of becoming a progenitor of the messiah. further, they rejected the bloody sacrifices of the law, and would have nothing to do with the temple at jerusalem. we can see by philo's "on the contemplative life" how completely alexandrian judaism had sucked in buddhist doctrine, and how therapeutic asceticism formed the bridge from buddhism to christian monachism. in the same places where essenes and therapeutæ had been, there later we find christian solitaries. "we can have no doubt," says ferdinand delaunay, "that the therapeutic convents which perhaps gave the first signal for conversion to the new faith, served also as the cradle for christian monachism. history shows us, hardly a century later, this flourishing in the same localities on the borders of the lake mareotis, and on the heights of nitréa. and we cannot doubt but that christian solitaries continued at alexandria the work of their jewish predecessors, and endeavoured to make their oracles serve for the propagation of the gospel." [footnote: delaunay (f.), _moines et sibylles_, paris, , p. .] the language in which philo describes the therapeutæ might be applied to the christian monks of egypt. i must condense his rambling account. the therapeutæ abandon their property, their children, their wives, parents, and friends and homes, to seek out fresh habitations outside the city walls, in solitary places and in deserts. they pray twice in the day, at morning and evening, and the interval is wholly devoted to meditation on the scriptures and elucidating the allegories therein. they likewise compose psalms and hymns to god, "and during six days each, retiring into solitude, philosophises, never going outside the threshold of the outer court, and indeed never looking out. but on the seventh day they all assemble, and sit down in order, and the eldest, who has the most profound learning, speaks with steadfast voice explaining the meaning of the laws." they wore but one garment, a shaggy hide for winter, and a thin mantle for summer. their food was herbs and bread, and their drink water. philo concludes his account thus: "this then is what i have to say of those who are called therapeutæ who have devoted themselves to the contemplation of nature, and who have lived in it, and in the soul alone, being citizens of heaven and of the world, and very acceptable to the father and creator of the universe because of their virtue; it has procured them his love as their most appropriate reward, which far surpasses all the gifts of fortune, and conducts them to the very summit and perfection of happiness." it was not among the jews alone that the solitary life was cultivated. in the serapium of thebes were also heathen monks leading a very similar life. that persian manichæism had infected jews and heathen as well there can exist little doubt. [footnote: philo gives an account of the sacred banquets of the therapeutæ that strongly reminds us of the agapæ of the early christians.] in , in lyons, when s. pothinus and others were arrested, thrown into prison, tortured and killed for the faith, there was one of the martyrs who caused offence to the rest because "he had long been used to a very austere life, and to live entirely on bread and water. he seemed resolved to continue this practice during his confinement, but attalus (another martyr), after his first combat in the theatre, understood by revelation that alcibiades gave occasion of offence to others by seeming to favour the new sect of the montanists (a christian phase of manichæism), who endeavoured to recommend themselves by their extraordinary austerities. alcibiades listened to the admonition, and from that time ate of everything with thanksgiving to god." [footnote: eusebius, _hist. eccl._, v. i.] but, although buddhism affected the lives of certain christians, it in no way touched their faith--that life was the result of contact with manichæism, which taught that all matter was evil, and that the flesh must be subdued, as essentially ungodly. the buddhist religion in its ethics is the absolute reverse of the christian. the buddhist prays and tortures, and stupefies himself for purely selfish reasons, so as to escape reincarnation in the form of a bug, a louse, or a worm, by the destruction within himself of all human passions and inclinations. his self-torture is undertaken for the object of absorption into nirvana, only to be reached by reducing the mind and heart to absolute indifference to every animal desire, and thus to escape the eternal revolution of metempsychosis. "no man liveth to himself, and no man dieth to himself," is a maxim incomprehensible to a buddhist. as mr. landon says: "the spiritual brigandage of the lamas finds its counterpart in many other creeds, but it would be unjust not to record in the strongest terms the great radical difference that exists between lamaism at its best and christianity at its worst. there has never been absent from the lowest profession of our faith a full recognition of the half-divine character of self-sacrifice for another. of this the tibetians know nothing. the exact performance of their duties, the daily practice of conventional offices, and continual obedience to their lamaic superiors is for them a means of escape from personal damnation in a form which is more terrible perhaps than any monk- conjured inferno. for others they do not profess to have even a passing thought. now this is a distinction which goes to the very root of the matter. the fact is rarely stated in so many words, but it is the truth that christianity is daily judged by one standard, and by one standard only--its altruism, and this complete absence of carefulness for others, this insistent and fierce desire to save one's own soul, regardless of a brother's, is in itself something that makes foreign to one the best that lamaism can offer." one day a gnat stung s. macarius, and he killed it. to punish himself for this, he went to the marshes of scete, and stayed there six months. when he returned to his brethren he was so disfigured by the bites of the insects that they recognised him only by the tone of his voice. a brahmin would have been filled with remorse lest he had killed a reincarnation of his grandmother, but the egyptian ascetic only because he had given way to momentary irritation. one has but to read the sayings of the fathers of the desert to see that no vein of brahminism or buddhism had tinctured their faith, however deeply it may have coloured their practice. when plague raged in alexandria, they were ready to quit their cells and hasten into the cities to minister to the sick and dying; when the faith, as they understood it, was menaced, to champion the truth. that the egyptian hermits, flying from association with the world, should betake themselves to caves, is hardly to be wondered at. in that land the rocks are pitted with artificial grottoes, which were the tombs of the ancient egyptians, and were commodious and to be had without asking leave of any one. twice was athanasius obliged to fly from the fury of the arians, and to take refuge among the solitaries in their caves. once he was constrained to remain in concealment in his father's tomb, also a cavern. when he was banished to trèves, tradition says that he would not occupy a house, but sought out a grotto in a hill beyond the moselle, and made his abode therein. the filiation between the syrian and egyptian solitaries with the hermits of buddhism may be made out with some plausibility. in the east sanctity and asceticism are inseperable. the smug missionary who cannot preach the gospel apart from a wife, mosquito curtains and a cottage piano, and who travels from one station to another in a palanquin borne by sweating natives, does not impress the imagination of an oriental, and has small chance of making converts. it was possibly much the same with the barbarians who overwhelmed the roman empire. to strike their imagination and win them to the cross, it may be that asceticism was a necessary phase of mission work. "the spirit breatheth where he wills, and thou canst not tell whence he cometh or whither he goeth," is the vulgate rendering of s. john iii. . but if it was at one time a necessary phase, it ceased to be so when the effect required was produced; and from the close of mediaeval times the hermit was an anachronism. the life of s. antony by athanasius, and the _historia lausiaca_ or "lives of the fathers of the desert," by palladius (died c. ), were published in the west, and inflamed minds with the desire to emulate the ascetics of syria and egypt; and speedily there were zealots who sought out retreats in the dens of the earth, in which to serve god in simplicity. some anchorites [footnote: properly an _anchorite_ is a recluse, walled into his cell; a _monk_ is a solitary; and an _eremite_ or _hermit_ is a dweller in the desert.] are commemorated in both the greek menæa and the roman martyrology more worthy to be esteemed buddhists than christian saints. theodoret, who wrote a.d. , describes the lives of two women of ber�a, whom he had himself seen. they lived in a roofless hovel with the door walled up and plastered over with clay, and with a narrow slit left for a window, through which they received food. they spoke to those who visited them but once in the year, at pentecost; not content with the squalor and solitude of their hut, they loaded themselves with masses of iron which bent them double. theodoret was wont to peer in through the chink at the revolting sight of the ghastly women, a mass of filth, crushed double with great rings and chains of iron. thus they spent forty-two years, and then a yearning came on them to go forth and visit jerusalem. the little door was accordingly broken open, and they crawled out, visited the holy city, and crawled back again. another visited by theodoret was baradatus, who built himself a cabin on the top of a rock, so small that he was unable to stand upright in it, and was obliged to move therein bent nearly double. the joints of the stones were, moreover, so open that it resembled a cage and exposed him to the sun and rain. theodosius, patriarch of antioch, as a sensible man, ordered him to leave it. then baradatus encased himself in leather so that only his nose and mouth were visible. nowhere was the imitation carried to such wild extravagance as in ireland. s. findchua is described as living like an indian fakir. in his cell he suspended himself for seven years on iron sickles under his arm-pits, and only descended from them to go forth and howl curses on the enemies of the king of leinster. in england also there was extravagance. s. wulfric, who died in , encased himself in a coat of chain-mail worn next his skin even in winter, and occupied a cell at hazelbury in somerset. s. edmund of canterbury (died ) wore a shirt of twisted horsehair with knots in it, and bound a cart rope round his waist so that he could scarce bend his body. in advent and lent he wore a shirt of sheet-lead. thomas à becket, when slain, was found by the monks of canterbury to be wearing a hair shirt and hair-cloth drawers, and their admiration became enthusiastic when they further discovered that this hair-cloth was "boiling over" with lice. that this species of sanctity is still highly approved and commended to the imitation of the faithful we may suppose from the fact that pius ix. in beatified the blessed marianna, because she was wont to sleep in a coffin or on a cross, and on fridays hung herself for two hours on a cross attached to it by her hair and by ropes. on broiling hot days she denied herself a drop of water to quench an almost intolerable thirst. verily manichæism has eaten like a canker into the heart of the latin church. but the early anchorites of europe were not usually guilty of such extravagance. they were earnest men who sought by self-conquest to place themselves in a position in which they could act as missionaries. it was their means of preparing for the work of an evangelist. in most cases the apostle of a district sunk in paganism had no choice, he must take up his abode in a cave or in a hovel made of branches. in the gallo-roman cities the christian bishops had gradually taken into their hands the functions of the civil governors. they were men of family and opulence, and lived in palaces crowded with slaves. they did nothing whatever towards the conversion of the country folk, the pagani. this was the achievement of the hermits. till the peasants had been christianised they would not invite the preacher of strange doctrines under their roofs, they looked on him with dislike or mistrust as interfering with their cherished superstitions and ancestral customs. he could not force his society on reluctant hosts. s. beatus, a british or irish missionary, settled into a cave above the lake of thun, dreaded by the natives as the abode of a dragon. he succeeded in his work, and died there at the advanced age of ninety. in the protestant government of berne built up the mouth of the grotto and set soldiers to repel the pilgrims who came there. now a monster hotel occupies the site, and those who go there for winter sport or as summer tourists know nothing or care less about the abode of the apostle whence streamed the light of the gospel throughout the land. below the terrace that surrounds the height on which angoulême is built is the cave of s. cybard (eparchius died ). an iron gate prevents access to it, and the path down to it is strewn with broken bottles and sardine tins. no one now visits it. but within, where are an altar and the mutilated statue of the saint, lived the hermit who in the sixth century did more than any other man to bring the people of the angoumois out of darkness into light. but, as already said, when the work of evangelisation was done, then the profession of the hermit was no longer required, and such anchorites as lingered on in europe through the middle ages to our own day were but degenerate representatives of the ancient evangelical solitaries. a few years ago hermits abounded in languedoc. they took charge of remote chapels on mountain tops, or in caves and ravines. they were always habited as franciscan friars, but they were by no means a reputable order of men, and the french prefêts in conjunction with the bishops have suppressed them. they were always to be seen on a market day in the nearest town, not infrequently in the taverns, and in the evening festooning along the roads on their way back to their hermitages, trolling out convivial songs spiced with snatches of ecclesiastical chants. "mon dieu," says ferdinand fabre, [footnote: barnabé, paris, ] "i know well enough that the free brothers of s. francis, as they loved to entitle themselves, had allowed themselves a good deal of freedom, more than was decorous. but as these monastically-habited gentry in no way scandalised the population of the south, who never confounded the occupants of the hermitages with the curés of the parishes, why sweep away these fantastic figures who, without any religious character, recruited from the farms, never educated in seminaries, peasants at bottom, in no way priests, capable, when required, to give a helping hand with the pruning knife in the vineyard, or with the pole among the olives, or the sickle among the corn. alas! they had their weaknesses, and these weaknesses worked their ruin." the salt had lost its savour, wherewith could it be seasoned? it was not in southern france alone that the part of the hermit was played out. an amusing incident in the confession of fetzer, head of a gang of robbers who infested the rhine at the end of the eighteenth century, will go some way to show this. the gang had resolved on "burgling" a hermit near lobberich. had he been an eremite of the old sort, the last place in which robbers would have expected to find plunder would be his cell. but in the eighteenth century it was otherwise, and this particular hermit kept a grocer's shop, and sold coffee, sugar, and nutmegs. the rogues approached the cell at night, and as a precaution one of them climbed and cut the rope of the bell wherewith the hermit announced to the neighbourhood that he was about to say his prayers. then they broke open his door. in fetzer's own words, "the hermit was not at home, but as we learned, had gone a journey in connection with his grocery business. in the hermitage, however, we found several men placed there to keep guard over his goods. we soon settled them, beat them with our cudgels and cast them prostrate on the floor. then we burst open all the chests and cupboards, but found little money. there was, however, plenty of tea and sugar. as we were about to leave, a fearful storm came on, and without more ado we returned into the hermitage to remain there till it was overpast. in order to dissipate the tedium, we ransacked the place for food, and found an excellent ham and wine in abundance. i assumed the place of host. serve the meal! bring more! i ordered, and we revelled and shouted and made as great a din as we liked. in the second room the hermit had a small organ. i seated myself at it; and to make the row more riotous i played as well as i was able. the laughter and the racket did not cease till morning broke. then i dressed myself up in the hermit's cowl and habit, and so went off with my comrades." [footnote: _der neue pitaval_, leipzig, xviii. p. ] i remember visiting a hermit in who lived on a ledge in the cliff above s. maurice in the vallais, where was a cave that had been occupied by the repentant burgundian king sigismund. he cultivated there a little garden, and i have still by me a dried bouquet of larkspur that he presented to my wife on our leaving after a pleasant chat. a pilgrimage to the cave was due on the morrow, and he had just returned from the town whither he had descended to borrow mugs out of which the devotees might drink of the holy spring that issued from the cave. the wild kirchlein, in appenzell, is now visited rather by tourists than by pilgrims. a huge limestone precipice rises above the bodmenalp, that is a paradise of wild flowers. a hundred and seventy feet up the cliff gapes a cavern, and at its mouth is a tiny chapel. it is reached by what is now a safe pathway and over a bridge cast across a chasm. but formerly the ascent could not be made without danger. in the beginning of the seventeenth century, some alpine shepherds, who had reached the cave, reported that they had seen in it the remains of an altar. this aroused interest, and in the summer of a capuchin named tanner ascended to the cave, blessed, and consecrated it as a place of pilgrimage. he said mass there and preached. he was shortly afterwards called away to freiburg, and for thirty years the cave was disregarded and neglected. but at the end of that time tanner returned to appenzell, and interested the parish priest ulmann in it. when war broke out between schwyz and zurich in , ulmann concealed the treasures of the church in the cave. this drew attention to it, and shortly after an altar was furnished with what was needful, and on the feast of s. michael in mass was again said there. various matters --loss of friends, and contests with the secular authorities--wearied ulmann, and he resolved on retiring as a hermit to the cave in the cliff, taking with him, however, an attendant. the swallows left, the winter storms came on, yet he braved the wind and cold, and remained a tenant of the cave for two winters and as many summers; but then, by order of the bishop, he left to act as chaplain to a convent in lindau. there he spent nine years, till falling ill, he felt a craving for the purer air of his appenzell home, and obtained leave to return and again re-tenant the beloved cave. in his last will he bequeathed the upper bodmen alp that was his ancestral inheritance for the maintenance of the holy grotto. after his death the little chapel with its tower was built, and a capuchin friar occupied the hermitage. in , the last hermit there, brother antony fassler, fell down the precipice whilst gathering herbs. since then there has been no such picturesque object to lead the visitor through the recesses of the cavern and show the stalactites; that office is now performed by the innkeeper of the hotel on the alp. the cave of s. verena is one of the favourite pilgrim resorts in switzerland. it is near soleure, and lies in a valley of a spur of the jura. according to the received tradition she ran after the theban legion--in modern parlance was a camp-follower, but deserted the soldiers here, and took up her abode in this grotto. there is no mention of this hermitage earlier than , and the legend has grown up since. that the cave was much more ancient, and was invested with holy awe, is no doubt true. in fact, there is reason to believe that verena was a german goddess. [footnote: rocholz, _dei gaugöttinnen_, leipzig, .] her symbol is a comb, and in the wall are cut these words: pectore dum christo, dum pectine servit egenis, non latuit quondam sancta verena cavo; that is to say, serving christ and combing the heads of the poor, the holy verena lived unconcealed in this grotto. the way to the chapel is through woods, the valley closing in till bold rocks are reached. in a niche is a statue of the magdalen, with the inscription, "i sleep, but my heart waketh." a few steps further is a representation of the garden of gethsemane. from this a long and steep stair leads up to the chapel, cut deep in the rock, with an altar in it. behind this is the holy sepulchre carved in the stone, in the seventeenth century by the hermit arsenius. on the other side of the chapel a long stone stair leads again into the open air. under this stair is a hole in the rock into which the hand can be thrust. according to a "pious belief" the saint one day was much tormented with the remembrance of the military, and longed to resume her pursuit of them, and she gripped the rock, which yielded like wax to her fingers. another swiss rock hermitage is that of the magdalen near freiburg, in the cliff on the right bank of the saane. at the close of the seventeenth century it was enlarged by a hermit, john baptist duprés, and his comrade john licht. they worked at it for twenty years. duprés dug a number of cells out of the sandstone, a kitchen with a chimney, a dining-room, a church, and a stable. the church measures feet long, feet wide, and is feet high. he built a tower to his church, and gave his chimney the height of feet so as to ensure that his fire should not smoke. the hermit duprés was drowned in as he was rowing over the river a party of scholars who had come to visit him. no hermit lives there now. his residence is occupied by a peasant with his family. on the nahe, that flows into the rhine, is the little town of oberstein, whose inhabitants are nearly all employed in cutting and polishing agates, sardonyxes, and various other stones prized by ladies. precipitous cliffs arise above the town, and contract the space on which houses could be raised, and these rocks are crowned by two ruined castles, the older and the newer oberstein. about half-way up the face of the cliff, feet above the river, can be seen a tiny church, to which ascent is made by flights of steps. the old castle rises above this, and stands feet above the river, but its remains are reduced to a fragment of a tower. separated from it by a notch in the rocks is the new castle that was destroyed by fire about thirty- five years ago. in the old castle lived in the eleventh century two brothers, wyrich and emich von oberstein. both fell in love with the daughter of the knight of lichtenberg, but neither confessed his passion to the other. at last, one day emich returned to the castle to announce to his brother that he had been accepted by the fair maid; wyrich, in an impulse of jealousy, caught his brother by the throat and hurled him down the precipice. his conscience at once spoke out, and in the agony of his remorse he had resort to a hermit who bade him renounce the world, grave for himself a cell in the face of the melaphyre clay--the hermit did not give to the rock its mineralogical name--and await a token from heaven that he was forgiven. accordingly wyrich von oberstein scrambled up the face of the cliff as high as he could possibly go, and there laboured day after day till he had excavated for himself a grotto in which to live and expiate his crime. and a spring oozed out of the rock in his cave, and was accepted by him as the promised token of pardon. after a while he obtained that a little church should be consecrated which he had constructed at the mouth of his cave. on the day that the bishop came to dedicate the structure he was found dead. what is supposed to be his figure, that of a knight in armour, is in the chapel. this latter was rebuilt in , and the monument came from the older structure. the chapel has been handed over to the calvinists for their religious services, which is the humour of it, as nym would have said. beside the highroad (_route nationale_) from brive to cahors, but a very little way out of the town, is a mass of red permian sandstone perforated with caves. in s. anthony of padua was at brive, and resided for a while in one of them. since then it has been held sacred and occupied by franciscans, who erected a convent above it; in so doing they cut into and mutilated some very ancient artificial workings in the sandstone for the contrivance of rock habitations. the cave, however, was neglected when the franciscans were expelled at the revolution, but they returned in and rebuilt or greatly enlarged their convent, only to be expelled again in . the grottoes, now converted into chapels to the number of four, are in a line under the superstructures, that in the middle the actual hermitage. this, moreover, has been cut out of the rock artificially, at a higher level than the others, that are natural and are untenable, owing to the incessant drip of water from the roofs. the first cave is dedicated to s. francis of assisi, but it is a rock shelter rather than a cave. it is natural, but in one corner a small water-basin has been scooped. the second cave is mainly natural, but partly artificial; it is dedicated to notre dame auxiliatrice. the third, reached by steps, is wholly artificial, and before the stairs were built to lead to it, was inaccessible save by a short ladder. it placed the occupant in safety from invasion by wolves or other objectionable visitors. it measures feet by feet. this, which was the habitation of s. anthony, communicated with the two lower caves, one on each side, by lateral openings. the fourth cave is that of des fontaines, in which are basins of water cut in the rock, receiving the everlasting drip from above. it is impossible to give one tithe of the hermitages in caves that are to be seen in europe; but a few words may be devoted to la sainte beaume in var, where, according to tradition, mary magdalen spent the end of her days. the tradition is entirely destitute of historical basis, and rests on a misconception. scott has described the cave with tolerable accuracy in "anne of geierstein," though he had not seen it himself. the cave is in the range of cretaceous limestone that runs east and west to the north-east of marseilles, and at la beaume sainte reaches the height of feet. the wild flowers, the fine forest, and the white rocks impart great interest to the visit without consideration of historical and legendary association. the botanist will find the globe flower, the anemone, the citisus, the man, the bee, the fly orchids, and the _orchis militaris_ in considerable abundance; also banks of scented violets. the grotto is at a considerable height above the valley. according to the legend, as already said, mary magdalen spent the close of her life here, and numerous anchorites settled in the caves around. in the fifth century cassian placed monks in the grotto, but they were driven away by the barbarians, and la sainte beaume fell into complete oblivion till the thirteenth century. the cave is lofty and spacious, not a little damp, and water drips from the roof. to protect the altar a baldachin has been erected over it. at the extreme end is a raised dais of natural rock, on which the saint is supposed to have made her bed. another cave is that of the holy sepulchre, which was formerly occupied by the monks of s. cassian. from the sainte beaume a path leads upwards to the saint pilon, the highest pinnacle of the rock which here rises to a point, out of which grow wild pinks and aromatic shrubs, and where falcons make their nest. according to the legend, mary magdalen was elevated by the hands of angels to this point seven times a day, there to say her prayers, which proceeding surely entitles her to a place as the patroness of aviation. at sougé, on the loir, a little below the troglodyte town of trôo already described, half-way up the cliff is the cave-chapel of s. amadou. it is feet deep and feet wide. the altar is at the end surmounted by a niche containing a statue of the saint, and to this formerly pilgrimages were made from all the valleys round. but this is a thing of the past, for it is now private property and converted into a cellar. what is peculiar about this chapel is that it is surrounded by a gallery also rock-hewn, and it was customary for the pilgrims to pass round the chapel through this gallery before entering it. at villiers, near vendôme, is the chapel of s. andrew, that was formerly inhabited by a hermit. it is divided into two chambers. that on the left is the chapel proper, with its altar. above the other opening is a bas-relief of the crucifixion. when levelling the floor of this hermitage a few years ago, so as to convert it into a commodious private dwelling, a number of skeletons were found in graves sunk in the rock. [illustration: plan of the chapel of s. amadou.] montserrat is famous throughout spain on account of its statue of the virgin, which is supposed to have been made by s. luke, and brought to barcelona in the year by s. peter, which, of course, is nonsense. s. luke never painted, and s. peter never visited spain. this extraordinary mountain derives its name from its saw-like appearance, _mons serratus._ it consists of pudding-stone, "a strange solitary exiled peak, drifted away in the beginning of things from its brethren of the pyrenees, and stranded in a different geological period." mr. bayard taylor thus describes the summit after a two hours' climb. "emerging from the thickets we burst suddenly upon one of the wildest and most wonderful pictures i ever beheld. a tremendous wall of rock arose in front, crowned by colossal turrets, pyramids, clubs, pillars, and ten-pin shaped masses, which were drawn singly, or in groups of incredible distinction, against the deep blue of the sky. at the foot of the rock the buildings of the monastery and the narrow gardens completely filled and almost overhung a horizontal shelf of the mountain, under which it again fell sheer away down, down into misty depths, the bottom of which was hidden from sight. in all the galleries of memory i could find nothing resembling it." [footnote: taylor (b.), "byways of europe," lond. , i. p. .] the spires of rock range about feet high, jumbled together by nature in a sportive mood. here and there, perched like nests of the solitary eagle, are the ruins of former hermitages, burnt by the french under suchet in july , when they amused themselves with hunting the hermits like chamois in the cliffs, hung the monks of the monastery, plundered it of all its contents, stripped the virgin of her jewellery, and burnt the fine library. hitherto the monks, when periodically dressing the image, had done so with modestly averted eyes, but suchet's soldiers had no such scruples. this image had been entrusted in the ninth century to a hermit, jean garin. now riguilda, daughter of the count of barcelona, was possessed by a devil, in another word, crazy, and was sent to be cured by the image or the hermit. a temptation similar to that of s. anthony followed, but with exactly the opposite result. to conceal his crime, jean garin cut off riguilda's head, buried her, and fled. overtaken by remorse he went to rome, and confessed his sin to the pope, who bade him become a beast, never lifting his face towards heaven until the hour when god himself would signify his pardon. jean garin went forth from the papal presence on his hands and knees, crawled back to montserrat, and there lived seven years as a wild beast, eating grass and bark, and never looking up to heaven. at the end of this time his body was entirely covered with hair, and it so fell out that the hunters of the count snared him as a wild animal, put a chain round his neck, and brought him to barcelona. here an infant of five months old, on beholding the strange beast, uttered a cry and exclaimed, "rise up, jean garin, god has pardoned thee." then, to the amazement of all, the beast arose and spoke in a human tongue. happily the story is no more true than that the image was made by s. luke. it is an old greek story of s. james the penitent, with the penance of nebuchadnezzar tacked on to it. forbes says: "the traveller should visit the ruined hermitages of sta. anna, san benito, not forgetting la roca estrecha, a singular natural fissure; the highest and most interesting of all is the s. jeronimo. these retreats satisfied the oriental and spanish tendency to close a life of action by repose, and atone for past sensualism by mortification. the hermitages were once thirteen in number; each was separate, and with difficulty accessible. the anchorite who once entered one, never left it again. there he lived, like things bound within a cold rock alive, while all was stone around, and there he died, after a living death to the world, in solitude without love. yet they were never vacant, being sought for as eagerly as apartments in hampton court are by retired dowagers. risco says that there were always a dozen expectants waiting in the convent the happy release of an occupant. to be a hermit, and left to live after his own fashion, exactly suited the reserved, isolated spaniard, who hates discipline and subjection to a superior." [footnote: "handbook of spain," lond. , p. . a visit to the image is heavily indulgenced. pope paul v. granted remission of all his sins to any one who entered the confraternity of our lady of montserrat. mr. b. taylor says of the image: "i took no pains to get sight of the miraculous statue. i have already seen both the painting and the sculpture of s. luke, and think him one of the worst artists that ever existed."] above cordova, also in the sierra, are rock hermitages serving in andalusia the same purpose that did those of montserrat in catalonia. these also never wanted a tenant, for in the iberian temperament, _inedia et labor_, violent action alternating with repose is inherent. in italy, subiaco must not be left without a notice. it was hither that s. benedict fled when aged fourteen. he chose a cave as his abode, and none knew what was his hiding-place save a monk, romanus, who let down to him from the top of the rock the half of the daily loaf allotted to himself, giving him notice of its being ready for him by ringing a little bell. here, once, troubled by the passions of the flesh, benedict cast himself into a thicket of thorns, and afterwards planted there two rose-trees which still flourish. this is now converted into a garden, and near by all the monks of subiaco are buried. near la vernia, a favourite retreat of s. francis, is a deep cleft in the rocks, and a cave to which he was wont to retire at times. one friar only, brother leo, was permitted to visit him, and that once in the day with a little bread and water, and once at night; and when he reached the narrow path at the entrance, he was required to say _domine labia mea aperies;_ when, if an answer came, he might enter and say matins with his master. in a second cave the saint slept. outside this is the point of rock from which according to the _fiorette:_ "through all that lent, a falcon, whose nest was hard by his cell, awakened s. francis every night a little before the hour of matins by her cry and the flapping of her wings, and would not leave off till he had risen to say the office; and if at any time s. francis was more sick than ordinary, or weak, or weary, that falcon, like a discreet and charitable christian, would call him somewhat later than was her wont. and s. francis took great delight in this clock of his, because the great carefulness of the falcon drove away all slothfulness, and summoned him to prayers; and moreover, during the daytime, she would often abide familiarly with him." the warkworth hermitage in northumberland was made famous by bishop percy's ballad. in "rambles in northumberland and on the scottish border," , it is thus described. "the hermitage of warkworth is situated on the north bank of the coquet, and about a mile from the castle. leaving the castle yard and passing round the exterior of the keep, a footpath leads down the declivity on the north side of the river. entering a boat and rowing a short distance along the river, the visitor is landed at the foot of a pleasant walk which leads directly to the hermitage. this secluded retreat consists of three small apartments, hollowed out of the freestone cliff which overlooks the river. an ascent of seventeen steps leads to the entrance of the outer and principal apartment, which is about eighteen feet long, its width being seven feet and a half, and its height nearly the same. above the doorway are the remains of some letters now illegible, but which are supposed when perfect to have expressed, from the latin version of the psalms, the words: fuerint mihi lacrymæ meæ panes die ac nocte. the roof is chiselled in imitation of a groin, formed by two intersecting arches; and at the east end, where the floor is raised two steps, is an altar occupying the whole width of the apartment. in the centre, immediately above the altar, is a niche in which there has probably stood a figure either of christ or of the virgin. "near the altar, on the south side, there is carved in the wall a monumental figure of a recumbent female. in a niche near the foot of the monument is the figure of a man, conjectured to be that of the first hermit, on his knees, with his head resting on his right hand, and his left placed upon his breast. on the wall, on the same side, is cut a basin for the reception of holy water; and between the principal figure and the door are two small windows. at the west end is a third small window, in the form of a quatrefoil. "from this apartment, which appears to have been the hermit's chapel, a doorway opens into the corner one, about five feet wide, and having also an altar at the east end, with a basin for holy water cut in the wall. in the north wall of this inner chamber an arched recess is cut, the base of which is of sufficient length and breadth to admit a middle-sized man reclining. an opening, cut slantwise through the wall dividing the chamber, allows a person lying in this recess to see the monument in the chapel. in the same wall there is rather an elegantly- formed window, which admits the light from the outer apartment. to the north of the inner chamber is a third excavation, much smaller than the other two, which led to an outer gallery to the west, commanding a view of the river. this gallery, which has been much injured by the fall of a part of the cliff, is said to have been arched like a cloister. after returning from these dimly-lighted cells to open day, and passing through a stone archway, a flight of steps cut in the side of the rock leads to the hermit's garden at the top." s. robert of knaresborough, who died , was the son of one john thorne of york, of which city his brother was mayor. leland informs us that he forsook "the lands and goodes of his father to whom he was heire as eldest sonne." leaving his home he came to knaresborough, where he found a certain knight ensconced in a cave scooped out of the rock by the side of the nidd, and dignified by the name of s. giles's chapel. but the knight had had enough of it, and _instante diabolo_ quitted his cave and made it over to robert thorne, and "returned like a dog to his vomit," which is a monastic way of putting the fact that he returned to his wife and family. [illustration: sculpture in royston cave. representing s. christopher and other saints, men in armour and ladies.] robert, however, did not spend an entire year in the cave, for certain _latrunculi_ having stolen _hys bred, hys chese,_ _hys sustenance_, he quitted the grotto--doubtless at the approach of winter--and estab- lished himself in much more comfortable quarters at bramham. he was certainly a hermit who boiled his peas, for we are told that he maintained four men-servants; two were occupied in tilling his farm, one attended to his personal wants--was, in fact, his valet--and one went about with him on his begging expeditions. the cave is feet long, feet wide, and feet high. there is an image of a knight at the entrance, by some supposed to be more modern; it is, however, said that s. robert did much himself to adorn and enlarge his chapel. it was in this cave that eugene aram and richard housman murdered daniel clarke on th february , for the sake of some jewellery and plate they had induced him to bring to s. robert's chapel with him. it was not till fourteen years after that the body of clarke was found, and mrs. aram declared that her husband and housman had murdered him; housman turned king's evidence, and aram was hung on th august . roche hermitage in cornwall occupies a spire of rocks of schorl that shoots feet above the surrounding moor. built into the rocks is a little chapel, and beneath it is the hermit's cell. this seems to have been occupied continuously down to the reformation, and various stories are told of the tenants. there was once a steward under the duchy named tregeagle. he was a peculiarly nefarious agent, and very hard upon the tenants. his spirit is still supposed to roam over the moors, and not to be able to find peace till he has dipped the water out of dozmare pool with a nutshell. once, pursued by devils, he fled for sanctuary to roche, and thrust his head through the east window of the chapel, but, being a broad- shouldered spirit, could force his way in no further. the devils were baffled and withdrew. but tregeagle's position was not desirable. the wind, the rain, and the hail lashed that portion of his person that remained exposed, and he dared not withdraw his head from sanctuary lest the devils should be on him again. at every cutting blast he howled, and his howls so disturbed the hermit of roche, that he found it impossible to sleep or to attend to his prayers on windy nights. unable to liberate tregeagle himself, he sent for the monks of bodmin, and they imposed on the wretched steward the task aforementioned, and assured him immunity from pursuit whilst engaged upon it. "robin hood's stable," in nottinghamshire, at pappewick, of which throsby gives an illustration in his "history of the county," , was in all probability a hermitage. mr. w. stevenson writes: "i am convinced, from its nearness to the great old road, its position due south, and its evidences of columns and arches, that it is an old cell or anchorite's cave of equal, if not superior age, to the neighbouring abbey. the interior would make a good picture, as the dampness of the rock is favourable to green vegetation in sportive lines and patches on the warm colours and the shadows of the rock. it is an artist's dream. time, during the lapse of centuries, has made sad havoc with the entrance. originally it had a level cutting running into the hill until a face of rock was won in which to make a door and hew an underground apartment. "the hollow of this cutting has been raised, the banks rounded down, the roof over the door has fallen; the hand of destruction has worked back into the cave, and all evidence of the door and its whereabouts has vanished. the floor is loaded with sand and blocks fallen from the roof. the floor being so buried renders it difficult perfectly to judge of the depth of the apartment." what a habitation for a rheumatic hermit! the "sportive lines and patches" of vegetation suggest sportive tweaks and twinges of the loins. [illustration: sculpture in royston cave] two miles from repton is anchor church, where are the remains of a hermitage in a singular rocky bank, rising abruptly above the pastures on the verge of the trent. "the summit is clothed with overhanging woods, forming only a portion of the high grounds, but the suddenness of the change which the scenery derives from the appearance of precipitous and broken rocks, occurring in the midst of a soft and beautiful region of pastoral luxuriance, is very striking. a curious series of chambers, communicating with each other, has been at some distant period beyond tradition excavated in that portion of the rock which is most naked and precipitous; and from this circumstance the site has been designated anchor church, signifying the residence of a hermit. at a distance it bears a very close resemblance to a gothic ruin; the rude openings formed to admit light into the several cells, and the ruggedly fashioned doorway aiding, at first sight, the appearance of an artificial pile of grey antiquity. the rock is found principally to consist of rough grit-stone, and of a congeries of sand and pebbles. the trent, which now flows at a short distance, formerly ran close under the rock, as is indicated by a dead pool of water situate near its foot, and communicating with the channel of the river. "a tall flight of steep steps rudely fashioned of large unshapen blocks of stone, conducted to the entrance of the hermitage, and the dim light within its hoary, moss-grown, sloping walls is admitted through irregularly formed apertures, pierced through the dense body of the rock, and command magnificent views of the subjacent scenery." [footnote: bigsby (r.), "historical and topographical description of repton in the county of derby," lond. .] in the month of august , when occasion arose for setting a post in a "mercat house" at royston in hertfordshire in order to place a bench on it for the convenience of the market women, the men in digging struck through the eye or central hole of a millstone, laid underground, and on raising this found that it occupied the crown of a cave sixteen feet deep, as appeared by letting down a plumb line. there was a descent into it of about two feet wide, with holes cut in the chalk at equal distances, and succeeding each other like the steps of a ladder. it was accurately circular. they let a boy down, and from his report of its passing into another cavity, a slender man with a lighted candle descended, and he confirmed the report, and added that the second cave was filled with loose earth, which, however, did not quite touch the wall, which he could see to right and left. the people now conceived the notion that a great treasure was concealed here, and some workmen were employed to enlarge the passage of descent. then with buckets and a well-kerb, they set to work to clear it, and drew up the earth and rubbish that filled the cave. when they came to the floor of the descending passage they ran a long spit downwards and found that the earth was still loose. the vast concourse of people now became troublesome, and the workmen were obliged to postpone further operations till night. after much time and labour had been expended, the cave was cleared, but no really scientific examination of it was made till , when mr. beldam drew up a report concerning it, which he presented to the royal society of antiquaries. the cave is bell-shaped, and from the floor to the top of the dome measures - / feet. the bottom is not quite circular, but nearly so, and in diameter is from feet to feet inches. a broad step surrounds it, inches wide and feet from the floor. about feet above the floor a cornice runs round the walls cut in a reticulated or diamond pattern two feet wide. almost all the space between the step and this cornice is occupied with sculpture, crucifixes, saints, martyrs, and subjects not easy to explain. vestiges of red, blue, and yellow are visible in various places, and the relief of the figures has been assisted by a dark pigment. in various parts of the cave, above and below the cornice, are deep cavities or recesses of various forms and sizes, some of them oblong, and others oven-shaped, of much the same character as those found in the french caves. high up are two dates cut in the chalk, in arabic numerals, that have been erroneously read and "martin february ," but these should be respectively and , as arabic numerals were not in use in england in the fourteenth century, and the name of martin and the february are distinctly sixteenth century in character. the figure carving was not done by the same hand throughout. apparently the cave was originally a shaft for burial or for rubbish, and a hole in the side and floor that dr. stukeley took for a grave was nothing but a continuation downwards of the ancient shaft, as is proved by what has been found in it. but in mediaeval times the puticolus was enlarged and converted into a hermitage, and a hermit is known to have occupied it till the eve of the reformation, for in the churchwarden's book of the parish of bassingborne, under the date , is the entry, _"gyft of d. recd, off a hermytt depting at roiston in ys pysh"_ it is true that this entry does not absolutely fix the residence of the hermit at the cave, but it is hardly probable that there were two hermitages in so small a town. the cave was probably filled in with earth in and , when the inscribed dates were affixed. after which its existence was forgotten, and the mercat house was erected over it before . the carvings have been supposed to belong to the period of henry ii. and richard c�ur-de- lion, but it is not possible to put them earlier than the beginning of the sixteenth century, at all events such as represent the crucifixion. it is possible, however, that some of the kingly or knightly figures may be somewhat earlier. stukeley was quite convinced that the royston cave was the oratory of the lady rohesia, daughter of aubrey de vere, who succeeded his father in , but there exists no evidence that she ever lived at royston. the place takes its name from rohesia, daughter of eudo dapifer. in , says froude, while the harbours, piers, and fortresses were rising in dover, "an ancient hermit tottered night after night from his cell to a chapel on the cliff, and the tapers on the altars before which he knelt in his lonely orisons made a familiar beacon far over the rolling waters. the men of the rising world cared little for the sentiment of the past. the anchorite was told sternly by the workmen that his light was a signal to the king's enemies" (a spanish invasion from flanders was expected), "and must burn no more; and when it was next seen, three of them waylaid the old man on his way home, threw him down, and beat him cruelly." [footnote: "history of england," vol. iii. p. .] the following notice appeared in the _daily express_ of th june . "a subterranean chamber with a spiral staircase at one end and a gothic roof has been discovered at greenhithe. it is believed to have been a hermit's cell." the hermit left a pleasant memory behind him when he disappeared from england, perhaps just in time before complete degeneration set in as in france and germany, italy and spain. shakespeare, whenever he introduces him, does so in a kindly spirit, and represents him as a consoler of the afflicted and a refuge to the troubled spirit. by spenser also he is treated with affection. "towards night they came unto a plaine by which a little hermitage there lay, far from all neighbourhood, the which annoy it may. and nigh thereto a little chappel stoode, which being all with ivy overspred deckt all the roofe, and, shadowing the roode, seem'd like a grove faire braunched over hed: therein the hermit, which his life here led in streight observance of religious vow, was wont his hours and holy things to bed; and therein he likewise was praying now, whenas these knights arrived, they wist not where nor how." [illustration: chÂteau de rignac. a renaissance château on the vézère, built partly into and partly out of the overhanging cliff. since the sketch was made a portion of the first archway has fallen.] [illustration: royston cave. a section. the entrance with steps at the side is a modern addition.] i do not recall any harsh words spoken of the departed hermit. after the reformation it was felt that a factor in life was gone that could be ill spared. in these days when we live in a hurricane of new ideas, in the stress of business, we cannot understand the attractiveness of the peace of a cell away from the swirl of the storm, or the value of the hermits as guides of life. when the hermit was swept away, into his place as counsellor of the troubled stepped the witch, and to her those had recourse who had previously sought the eremite. the influence of the witch was always for evil, that of the hermit was usually good. the troubled soul desires a confidant and an adviser. the parish priest is not always spiritually minded, and is not always disinterested. what is hid from the wise and prudent is revealed to babes, and for the guidance of distracted consciences, the healing of wounded spirits, the words of the childlike hermit were a boon. however, he is gone past recall, and into his room have stepped the lawyer who demands six-and- eightpence for a word of advice, and the doctor whose charges are proportionate to the rental of our houses. chapter ix rock monasteries the early syrian and egyptian hermits would have become a sect of manichæan heretics but for the popularity of the profession and the arian persecution. in quitting the world they cut themselves off from the churches. they no more took part in its assemblies, participated in the sacraments, nor observed the sacred seasons. paul, the first hermit, deserted the society of men when aged fifteen, and lived till the age of a hundred and ten in solitude without ever having partaken of the bread of life. s. mary of egypt spent forty-seven years in the wilderness, stark naked, covered with hair like a wild beast, and only received the viaticum when dying, by the chance of a priest passing that way. a fifteenth century statue of her, nearly life-size, is in the national museum at munich, removed from the cathedral of augsburg as indelicate. s. antony spent twenty years in a sort of cistern, and only twice a year received loaves, let down from above through the roof. certainly all that time he was voluntarily excommunicate. if s. hilarius ever made sacramental communion we are not told, but we do know that he was for ever hiding himself from where were his fellow- men, in wilds and oases, and where there were no christian churches. in the desert, times and seasons slipped away, and became confounded, so that by the first hermits neither easter nor the lord's day were observed. in the gospel, the works of mercy, feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and prisoners, are appointed as the means of deserving a reward in heaven, but the anchorites neglected every one, cut themselves adrift from the chance of performing them, and sought to merit heaven in their own way. christ declared, "except ye eat the flesh of the son of man, and drink his blood, ye have no life in you," but they wilfully lived apart from the sacramental life as surely as any modern quaker. but when crowds of refugees from the duties and pleasures of life sought the desert, they ceased to be solitaries, and organisation on a monarchical system under an abbot became necessary; and when bishops and priests fled to them, or were banished and sought them, during the arian persecution, they came to plume themselves as champions of orthodoxy, and conformed to catholic usage, assembling on the lord's day for prayers and the eucharist. when the fashion set in for deserting the world, floods of men, women, and children threw themselves into it, and flowed into the desert during a century with resistless force. pachomius, who died at fifty-six, reckoned three thousand monks under his rule; the monasteries of tabenna soon included seven thousand, and s. jerome affirms that as many as fifty thousand were present at the annual gathering of the general congregation of monasteries that followed his rule. there were five thousand on the mountain of nitria; near arsinoë the abbot serapion governed ten thousand. it has even been asserted that there were as many monks in the deserts of egypt as inhabitants in the towns. the immense majority of these religious were cenobites; that is to say, they lived in the same enclosure, and were united under an elected head, the abbot. the cenobitical life rapidly and necessarily superseded that of the solitary. in fact the monks were now no more solitaries than are the jackdaws in a cleft, or the bees in a hive, but unlike the jackdaws, they were under discipline, and unlike bees were without a sting. it was not mere love of an indolent life and a desire to escape from military service that swelled the numbers in the desert. the condition of the decaying roman world led men to despair of the commonwealth, and of the possibility of their being able to save their own souls in the midst of the general corruption. "the people were exhausted by compulsory taxes, to be spent in wars which did not concern them, or in court luxury in which they had no share. in the municipal towns liberty and justice were dead. the curials, who were responsible for the payment of the public moneys, tried their best to escape the unpopular office, and when compelled to serve wrung the money in self-defence out of the poorer inhabitants by every kind of tyranny. private profligacy among all ranks was such as cannot be described in any modern pages. the regular clergy of the cities were able to make no stand against the general corruption of the age because--at least if we are to trust such writers as jerome and chrysostom--they were giving themselves up to ambition and avarice, vanity and luxury; and, as a background to all these seething heaps of decay, misrule and misery, hung the black cloud of the barbarians, waxing stronger and stronger so that the wisest romans saw clearly as the years rolled on, they would soon be the conquerors of the caesars and the masters of the western world. "no wonder, if in such a state of things, the minds of men were stirred by a passion akin to despair, which ended in a new and grand form of suicide. it would have ended often, but for christianity, in such an actual despair as that which had led in past ages more than one noble roman to slay himself, when he lost all hope for the republic. that the world--such at least as they saw it then--was doomed, scripture and their own reason taught them. they did not merely believe, but saw, in the misery and confusion, the desolation and degradation around them, that the world was passing away, and the lust thereof, and that only he who did the will of god could abide for ever. they did not merely believe, but saw that the wrath of god was revealed from heaven against all unrighteousness of men. under these terrible forebodings, men began to flee from a doomed world, and try to be alone with god, if by any means they might save each man his own soul in that dread day." [footnote: kingsley (c.), "the hermits," lond. .] in the year athanasius was in exile at trèves. he is traditionally held to have there occupied a cave beyond the moselle. the bishop maximinus received him with honour. early in his episcopate athanasius had visited the congregation of monks on the upper nile, and he was enthusiastic in his admiration of their manner of life. it is supposed that whilst at trèves he began to write the "life of s. anthony," if indeed he was the author of that popular work. here he is thought to have been visited by maxentius, bishop of poitiers, and brother of the bishop of trèves, bringing with him martin, then a friend and pupil of s. hilary, this latter at the time a wealthy noble of poitiers. and from the discourse of athanasius, if this meeting actually took place, the imagination of martin was fired with ambition to reproduce in europe the life of the fathers of the desert in egypt. anyhow, to this residence of athanasius at trèves, "one may trace the introduction into the western church of the principle and laws of ascetic self-renunciation, which, though they had run to great extremes in the nitrian desert and in the valley of the nile, assumed noble form when the idea took possession of the more phlegmatic temperament and practical energies of the west. without discussing the vexed question of the authorship of the 'life of s. anthony,' which is referred by many traditional testimonies to athanasius, we think it obvious, from the 'confessions' of augustine, that the religious circles at trèves had been strongly moved by the self-abandonment and entire consecration to the religious life of the exiled bishops. it was here, while reading the 'life of s. anthony' that the friends of augustine at length yielded themselves to god." [footnote: reynolds (h. r.), "athanasius, his life and life-work," lond., r.t.s., , p. .] martin was at poitiers in when s. hilary had returned from exile to his bishopric and to his wife and daughter. he had been living the eremitic life on the isle of gallinaria, shaped so like a snail, off the coast of albenga, and had nearly poisoned himself with trying to eat hellebore leaves. on reaching poitiers, he told his old friend the bishop, that he desired to follow the monastic life in his diocese, and obtained his cheerful consent. some way up the clain, five miles from poitiers, the little river glides through a broad valley, with meadows on its left bank often overflowed, but with a ridge of conglomerate rocks pierced with caves on the right bank. here martin settled, and there can exist no manner of doubt that his first settlement was in one of these grottoes, though at a later period the monastery was moved to the further side of the river, when the caves proved inadequate to harbour all the candidates for the religious life who placed themselves under his direction. one of his monks, however, named felix, refused to quit his cave that is now shown, and in which he died perhaps, in an inaccessible cliff that is surmounted by a cross. the friable conglomerate has yielded to storm and rain, and much of it has crumbled down; but the openings to the caves are visible from below, where the slopes are purple and fragrant with violets and, later, pink with primulas, and the rocks are wreathed with clematis. a pure spring bursts forth at the foot and works its way through beds of forget-me-not and marsh marigold to the clain. martin had been ordained exorcist and then priest. his most trusted disciples were felix, macarius, and florentius. as already said, except in the gallo-roman cities, christianity did not exist. the country-folk were pagans. martin lifted up his eyes and saw that the fields were white to harvest. he preached throughout poitou and la vendée, and visited the coast to the isles of yeu and ré. he travelled on foot, or mounted on an ass, sought every village and hamlet, to sow the seed of the word of god, and where he could not go himself, he sent his disciples. ligugé, his monastery, became a centre of evangelisation to the country round. it was the first monastery planted on gaulish soil. it was ruined by the saracens in , and again by the normans in . it was rebuilt in . but ligugé never had a worse enemy than one of its abbots, arthur de cossé. he made public confession of calvinism; gave up the abbey to be pillaged, sold its lands for his own advantage, and did everything in his power to utterly ruin it. it owed its restoration to the care of françois de servier, bishop of bayonne. ligugé was, however, destroyed at the french revolution. in it was acquired by the benedictines, and rebuilt on a large scale. it was enriched with a valuable library, and became a nursery of christian art and literature. but the law of banished the monks, and the vast building is now empty, as the state has not so far found any use for it. in the year the episcopal throne of tours was vacant, and the citizens at once decided on securing martin as their bishop. but when he arrived on foot, dust-covered, with shaggy hair, the bishops assembled to consecrate protested against the election. it was customary to choose a bishop from among the nobility and the wealthy. defensor, the bishop of angers, signalised himself by his opposition. he absolutely refused to consecrate the poor dishevelled monk. but when the lector opening the psalter at hazard read out the words, "out of the mouths of babes and sucklings hast thou ordained strength, because of thine enemies: that thou mightest still the enemy and the defender" (defensor), [footnote: so in the old gallican version; in the vulgate the word is _ultor_.] the people raised a great shout, god himself had spoken, and the bishops had to yield to the popular will. martin was then aged fifty-four. no sooner was he installed than he cast about him to establish on the banks of the loire a monastic colony such as he had founded at ligugé. he found a place where in later times rose the great abbey of marmoutier, the wealthiest in france, and with a church that was called the gem of touraine. but then it was merely a chalk cliff rising above the loire on its right bank, two miles above tours, and on the summit had stood the old gaulish city of altionos. the romans had transferred the capital of the turones to its present site, and had given it the name of cæsarodunum. but althionos was probably not wholly abandoned, poor gauls still dwelt there in their huts, and nothing had been done to bring them into the fold of christ's church. the cliff with its caves had already been sanctified. it had been a refuge in time of persecution, and there s. gatianus, the first bishop of tours, in the third century had sheltered. but now martin and his disciples set to work to enlarge and remodel the subterranean habitations; they scooped out a chapel, and they formed a baptistry. in the northmen came up the loire and massacred a hundred and sixteen of the monks. only twenty-four escaped. in marmoutier was refounded by eudo, count of blois, and the noble basilica built below the rock was consecrated by pope urban ii in . the vast wealth of the abbey led to enlargements and splendour of architectural work; but in the huguenots wrecked it, burned the precious library with all its mss., broke down the altars, and shattered the windows. its complete destruction, however, was due to the revolution, when in it was completely pulled down, nothing left of the splendid church but the tower and a portion of the northern transept that was glued to the rock. the oratory of s. martin was levelled to the rock on which it stood. [illustration: le trou bourou. a cave fortress on the beune. the hole through which the man is peering was used for defence of the steep ascent to the entrance. note the arrangement for barring the door.] [illustration: rock baptistery of s. martin, marmoutier. elevated and occupied by s. martin, bishop of tours, a.d. - . on the right- hand side is the well, on the left the font for immersion. the niches in the wall are for the holy oils. ] but the fact of the transfer of the monastery to the flat land below the cliff had this effect, that the old caves, the original cradle of marmoutier, were neglected and forgotten. they were overgrown by brambles, crumbled away, and none visited them. in the oratory in which s. martin had prayed was restored or rather rebuilt from its foundations. one night when martin was engaged therein in reading the scriptures, the door was burst open and in broke a party of masqueraders. they had disguised themselves as jupiter, minerva, and mercury, and some damsel devoid of modesty presented herself before the startled modesty of the bishop without disguise of any sort, as venus rising from the foam of the sea. some were dressed as wood druses very much like the devils of popular fancy. mercury was a sharp, shrewd wag, and bothered the saint greatly, as he admitted to sulpicius, his biographer, but jupiter was a "stupid sot." at the rebuke of martin the whole gang good-humouredly withdrew. i was in this cell on mid lent sunday, when hearing a noise outside, i looked forth and saw a party of masqueraders frolic and frisk past on their way to a tavern where was to be a costume ball. so goes the world. some fifteen hundred and thirty years ago the gospel was being preached in tours, as it is now, men and women were striving to follow its precepts as now, and tomfoolery was rampant in tours fifteen hundred and thirty years ago as it is now. and now, as to the remains in the rock of the primitive marmoutier. the grottoes of s. gatianus and of the disciples of s. martin have been cleared out. there is a little arcade of three round-headed unadorned arches cut in the cliff that served as a cloister, and there is the old baptistry where martin admitted his converts into the christian church, sunk in the rock for adult and complete submersion, and the niches in the wall for the sacred oils. adjoining is the cave in which the neophyte unclothed and afterwards reclothed himself. there are graves sunk in the rock, where some of his disciples were laid, and there is the chapel partly in the rock and partly rebuilt, dedicated later by gregory of tours to the seven sleepers of ephesus, but of which in after times a different story was told--namely that seven brothers who had been devoted disciples of martin prayed him when he was dying that they might speedily follow, and on the anniversary of his death they all seven fell asleep. there is another cave that escaped destruction at the revolution, though opening out of the transept of the church. it is that of the penitence of brice. brice had been adopted as a child by martin, and brought up by him to be a monk. but brice had no liking for the religious life, and was very disrespectful to his master. one day a sick man came to see martin and asked of brice where the saint was. "the fool is yonder," answered he, "staring at the sky like an idiot." one day martin rebuked brice for buying horses and slaves at a high price, and even providing himself with beautiful young girls. brice was furious, and said. "i am a better christian than you. i have had an ecclesiastical education from my youth, and you were bred up amidst the license of a camp." on the death of s. martin, the people of tours, tired of having a saint at their head, with proverbial fickleness chose brice as his successor because rich--he was said to have been the son of the count of nevers-- and because he was anything but a saint. as bishop he showed little improvement, and gave great scandal. lazarus, bishop of aix, accused him before several councils. at last a gross outrage on morals was attributed to him, and caused his flight. a nun gave birth to a child, and confessed that she had been seduced by the bishop. brice either ran away from tours or was deposed. a priest named justinian was elected in his room. on the death of justinian, armentius succeeded him. brice remained in exile till the death of armentius, and then ventured back to tours to reclaim his episcopal throne. he was allowed to reascend it, and he occupied it for seven years; and the cave in which he did penance for his frailties and the scandal he had caused is intact to this day. he died, after having been nominally bishop for forty-seven years, the greater portion of which time he had spent in exile. the church of rome is certainly very charitably disposed in numbering him among the saints. why he should be regarded as the patron of wool- combers one cannot see, [footnote: the following prayer is recommended by the archbishop of tours to the faithful for use. "nous vous supplions, seigneur, par l'intercession de s. brice, evêque et confesseur, de conserver votre peuple qui se confie en votre amour; afin que, par les vertues de notre saint pontife, nous méritions de partager avec lui les joies celestes." the virtues of brice!] but as such he enjoyed some popularity. there is yet another cave in the marmoutier rocks that may be mentioned; it is that of s. leobard. leobard was a saint of the sixth century, a native of auvergne, who, coming to pray at the tomb of s. martin, resolved on spending the rest of his days in one of the cells of martin's monastery in the rocks. he settled into an untenanted cave, which he enlarged, and lived in it for twenty-two years. at the extremity he dug a deep pit in which he desired to be buried standing with his face to the east, thus to await the coming of the lord. but although his desire was fulfilled, the monks of marmoutier would not let his body rest there, but hauled it up, that it might become an object of devotion to the faithful. the abbey of brantôme on the dronne (dep. dordogne) was originally, like marmoutier, a cavern monastery, and like those of marmoutier, the monks waxing fat, they kicked and abandoned the grottoes for a stately structural monastery. the beautiful romanesque tower of the church stands on top of a rock that is honeycombed with their cells. the church, consisting of nave only, is of marvellous beauty, early pointed, and built on a curve, as there was but little space to spare between the river and the cliffs. unhappily church and cloister were delivered over to be "restored" by that arch-wrecker, abbadie, who has done such incalculable mischief in perigord and the angoumois, and his hoof-mark is visible here. the monks, not content with a sumptuous gothic abbey, pulled it down and built one in the baroque style, and had but just completed it when the revolution broke out "and the flood came and swept them all away." in the court behind this modern structure is to be seen the cliff perforated with caves; it has, however, been cut back to the detriment of these, so that we have them shorn of their faces. nevertheless they are interesting. the old monolithic chapel of the monastery remains, turned into a pigeonry, and with the steps left that gave access to the pulpit, and two pieces of sculpture on a very large scale, cut out of the living rock. one represents the crucifixion with ss. mary and john; the other has been variously explained as the last judgment or the triumph of death. it perhaps represents the triumph of christ over death. his figure and the kneeling figures of his mother and the beloved disciple were, however, never completed, and remain in the rough. beneath the figure of christ is death, figured by a head surmounted by a crown of bones, and a crest representing a spectre armed with a club. on each side is an angel blowing a trumpet. below are ranged a dozen heads of popes, bishops, princes, knights, and ladies, in boxes to represent graves. [illustration: the triumph of christ over death sculpture in the cave monastery of brantôme. the figure of christ was never completed. below is a head crowned with bones, for death, with time as crest. below, in boxes, are the dead, of various degrees.] in the front of this huge piece of sculpture are trestles planted in the ground to support planks to serve as tables when the brantômois desire to have a banquet and a dance. the sculpture above described is not earlier than the sixteenth century. a few paces from it, in the same line and almost under the tower, is another grotto called _la babayou_--that is to say "of the statue," and it probably at one time enshrined an image of a saint. on the left of the subterranean church is the fountain of the little cut-throat already mentioned. s. sicarius, whose relics were the great "draw" to brantôme in the middle ages, was supposed to have been one of the innocents slain by herod; and the relics were also supposed to have been given to the abbey by charlemagne. as there was no historic evidence that charles the great ever had a set of little bones passed off on him as those of the innocent, or that he ever made a present to the abbey of a relic, it will be seen that a good deal of supposition goes to the story. as i have said before, how it was that the child of a hebrew mother acquired a latin name, and that one so peculiar, we are not informed. outside the town gate are other large excavations that are supposed to have formed a temple of mithras, but this is mere conjecture. the largest is now employed as a _tir_--a shooting gallery. that there were buildings connected with it is seen by the holes in the rock to receive rafters. s. maximus, bishop of riez, who died in , was born at château redon, near digne, and he entered the monastic life on the isle of lerins, under s. honoratus, and when that saint was raised in to the episcopal throne of arles, maximus succeeded him as abbot of lerins. but this monastery was becoming crowded, and maximus pined for the solitary life, so one day he took a boat, crossed to the mainland, and plunged into the wild country about the river verdon, that has sawn for itself a chasm through the limestone; where it debouches, he planted himself at a place since called moustier-ste-marie. the lips of the crevasse are linked by a chain, with a gilt star hanging in the midst, little under feet above the bed of the torrent. no one knows when this star was hung there, but it is supposed to have been an _ex voto_ of a chevalier, de blac. within the ravine, reached by a narrow goat-path, were caves in the cliffs, and into one of these maximus retired in and was speedily followed by other solitaries. the caves are still there, the faces walled up, but as at ligugé, and as at marmoutier, and as at brantôme, so was it here. as the monastery grew rich, the solitaries crawled out of their holes into which the sun never shone, and erected their residence at the opening of the ravine. a chapel remains, founded by charlemagne, but rebuilt in the fourteenth or fifteenth century, reached by a stair protected by a parapet. moustier was famous at the close of the seventeenth and beginning of the eighteenth century for its faience, with elegant designs and good colouring. specimens are now extremely scarce. two vases of this ware may be seen on the altar of the chapel. the principal potters there were pierre fournier, joseph olery, paul rouse, and féraud. they usually signed their work with their initials. maximus was just a century later than martin; the fever for imitating the lives of the fathers of the deserts of egypt was then in full heat. his master, honoratus, had been wont to escape from his island monastery and hide in a cave in the glowing red porphyry rocks of the esterelle. i can understand his retiring thither, above a sea blue as the neck of a peacock, among glowing red rocks, and masses of pines, and heather, and arbutus, and every kind of fragrant herb, and where, when only snowdrops are appearing in england, the spires of white asphodel are basking in the sun. [illustration: caves of ligugÉ the primitive rock monastery of s. martin. it was abandoned later when the monks moved to the further side of the river; but felix, a disciple of s. martin, remained and died in the cave, now inaccessible, below the cross.] near nottingham are the "popish holes," close to the river lene. they are thus described by stukeley. "one may easily guess nottingham to have been an ancient town of the britons; as soon as they had proper tools they fell to work upon the rocks, which everywhere offer themselves so commodiously to make houses in, and i doubt not first was a considerable collection of this sort. what is visible at present is not so old a date as their time, yet i see no reason to doubt but it is formed upon theirs. there is a ledge of perpendicular rock hewn out into a church, houses, chambers, dove-houses, &c. the church is like those in the rocks of bethlehem and other places in the holy land; the altar is natural rock, and there has been painting upon the wall, a steeple, i suppose, where a bell hung, and regular pillars. the river winding about makes a fortification to it, for it comes at both ends of the cliff, leaving a plain in the middle. the way into it was by a gate cut out of the rock, and with an oblique entrance for more safety. without is a plain with three niches, which i fancy their place of judicature, or the like. between this and the castle is a hermitage of like workmanship." these remains pertain to a cell called s. mary le rock, a quarter of a mile west of the castle, and belonged to lenton priory. it was abandoned after the time of edward iv., and is supposed to have come down in a perfect form to the time of the civil war, when it was much injured by the puritans as papists' holes. a good many illustrations exist of it after the civil wars, as a large folding plate in throsby's and thoroton's "history of nottinghamshire," , but there is none to show what it was before. it possesses a pigeonry much like that at brantôme, but on a smaller scale, that wiseacres have pronounced to be a columbarium, not for doves, but for the reception of jars containing the ashes of the dead, and have attributed this dovecote to roman times. mr. william stetton, a local antiquary, writing in , stated that the excavation "appeared to have been made in the earliest ages of christianity, when the converts resorted for secrecy and security to grottoes or caves, and similar places of retirement and seclusion. the style is evidently roman. the whole interior appears to have been invested with a thin plastering, or perhaps, only a wash, which has been painted in various colours in mosaic devices. the altar still remains pretty perfect notwithstanding the ravages of time and wanton depredation. a roman column still adorns the north side of it, but its corresponding one on the south side has long been destroyed." an architect, john carter, in the _gentleman's magazine_ for , stated that the "arrangements of the excavations are monastical; and we, with much satisfaction, trace out the infirmary, refectory, dormitory, chapter-house, and the chapel. the latter place gives two aisles, divided by perforated arches, with headways in the manner of groins, and at the east end an altar." there can be no question now that although the original excavations were possibly enough roman-british, the papists' holes, as we have them now, are truly, as mr. carter says, monastical. how absurd old fashioned antiquaries were may be proved by the fact that the chimney that warmed the monks, and up which went the smoke from their kitchen, was pronounced to be a _bustum_, a flue employed for the cremation of the dead. as to the "roman" column, that also is mediaeval. curzon, in his "monasteries of the levant," , says "the scenery of meteora (mt. pindus in albania) is of a very singular kind. the end of a range of rocky hills seems to have been broken off by some earthquake, or washed away by the deluge, leaving only a series of twenty or thirty tall, thin, smooth, needle-like rocks, many hundred feet in height; some like gigantic tusks, some shaped like sugar- loaves, and some like vast stalagmites. these rocks are surrounded by a beautiful grassy plain, on three sides of which grow groups of detached trees, like those of an english park. some of these rocks shoot up quite clean and perpendicularly from the smooth green grass, some are in clusters, some stand alone like obelisks. nothing can be more strange and wonderful than this romantic region, which is unlike anything i have ever seen before or since. in switzerland, savoy, the tyrol, is nothing at all to be compared to these extraordinary peaks. at the foot of many of these rocks there are numerous caves and holes, some of which appear to be natural, but most of them are artificial; for in the dark and wild ages of monastic fanaticism, whole flocks of hermits roosted in these pigeonholes. some of these caves are so high up in the rocks that one wonders how the poor old gentlemen could ever get up to them, whilst others are below the surface, and the anchorites who burrowed in them, like rabbits, frequently afforded rare sport to parties of roving saracens; indeed, hermit-hunting scenes seem to have been a fashionable amusement previous to the twelfth century. in early greek frescoes and in small stiff pictures with gold backgrounds, we see many frightful representations of men on horseback in roman armour, with long spears, who are torturing and slaying christian devotees. in these pictures the monks and hermits are represented in gowns made of a kind of coarse matting, and they have long beards, and some of them are covered with hair; these, i take it, were the ones most to be admired, as in the greek church sanctity is always in the inverse ratio to beauty. all greek saints are painfully ugly, but the hermits are much uglier, dirtier, and older than the rest. they must have been very fusty people beside, eating roots and living in holes like rats and mice." on the summit of these needles of rock are monasteries. of these there were twenty-four, but now seven alone remain tenanted by monks. the sole access to them is by nets let down by ropes and hauled up by a windlass, or as an alternative in the case of that of s. barlaam, by a succession of ladders. as an example of a rock monastery and church in egypt, i may quote the same author's description of that of der el adra, or of the pully, situated on the top of gebel el ferr, where a precipice about feet in height rises out of the waters of the nile. the access to it is by a cave or fissure in the rock, the opening being about the size of the inside of a capacious chimney. "the abbot crept in at a hole at the bottom, and telling me to observe where he placed his feet, he began to climb up the cleft with considerable agility. a few preliminary lessons from a chimney-sweep would have been of the greatest service to me, but in this branch of art my education had been neglected, and it was with no small difficulty that i climbed up after the abbot, whom i saw striding and sprawling in the attitude of a spread eagle above my head. my slippers soon fell off upon the head of a man under me. at least twenty men were scrambling and puffing underneath him. arms and legs were stretched out in all manner of attitudes, the forms of the more distant climbers being lost in the gloom of the narrow cavern up which we were advancing. thence the climb proceeded up a path. at the summit beside the monastic habitations was the church cut out of the rock, to which descent is made by a narrow flight of steps." mr. curzon gives a plan of this church as half catacomb or cave, and one of the earliest christian buildings which has preserved its originality. the caves of inkermann in the crimea have been already alluded to. here is a description of a subterranean abandoned monastery and church. "having traversed a passage about fifty feet long, we reached a church, or rather the remains of one; for a portion of the living rock in which these works were cut had fallen and carried with it half of this curious crypt. its semicircular vaulted roof, and the pillars in its corners, indicated it to be of byzantine origin; while a greek sculptured cross, in the centre of the roof, told that it was a temple dedicated to that religion. the altar, and any sculpture which might have existed near it, are gone, and have long since been burnt into lime, or built into some work at sevastopol. beyond the church we found a large square apartment, entered by another passage, and looking over the valley of inkermann. a few more cells, resembling those on the stairs, composed the whole of this series of excavated chambers, the arrangements of which at once proclaimed them to have been a monastery. these were the cells, the refectory, and the church. there is nothing in their construction as a work of art; yet there is an absence of that roughness and simplicity which exist in many caverns of the opposite mountain, and which indicate their being of a much earlier date than these." [footnote: scott (c. h.), "the baltic, the black sea, and the crimea," lond. , p. .] chapter x cave oracles standing upon the pinnacle upon which is planted the marvellous romanesque cathedral of le puy, and looking north, is seen in the distance the basaltic mass of polignac crowned by a lofty donjon. that mass of columnar basalt was occupied and held sacred in roman times, and was dedicated to apollo. in the courtyard of the castle is a well, l'albime it is called, that descends to the depth of feet, and there still exists an enormous stone mask of the solar god that closed it, and from the mouth of which oracles were given. how these were produced is now made clear. in the side of the well is a chamber cut out of the rock that concealed a confederate who uttered the response to the questioner, and the voice came up hollow and with reverberation betwixt the gaping lips of stone, to overawe and satisfy the inquirer. "before the old tribes of hellas created temples to the divinities," says porphyry in his treatise 'on the cave of the nymphs,' "they consecrated caverns and grottoes to their service in the island of crete to zeus, in arcadia to artemis and pan, in the isle of naxos to dionysos." and from caves issued the most famous grecian oracles, and the mysteries were often celebrated in them. the cave in which zeus as an infant was concealed on mount ida naturally became sacred. kronos had received the kingdom of the world on condition that he should rear no male children. accordingly when one was born he ate it. but when zeus arrived, his mother gave kronos a stone to eat in place of the child, and hurried off the babe to crete, where it was nourished in a cave by the corybantes, who sounded cymbals and drums to drown his cries. there was a charonion at hierapolis, an account of which we get from apulæus and dio cassius. it was deep. from the orifice, which was surrounded by a balustrade, escaped so dense a vapour that animals held in it died, and men who inhaled it were stupefied. the priests who ministered to the oracle professed to be immune, but strabo tells us that they simply held their breath when they stooped over the fumes. he who desired to consult the oracle was for a while placed on a platform above the opening. on the flank of mount citheron was a cave dedicated to the nymphs. those who desired to inquire of them entered the grotto, when it was supposed that the nymphs inspired them with a knowledge of the future; and such persons were entitled _nympholeptes_. the corresponding expression among the latins was _lymphatici_, expressive of the pale and exhausted condition in which they were when they issued from the cave. eusebius, bishop of cæsarea says: "there are exhalations that produce drowsiness and procure visions;" and apulæus says: "due to the religious fury they inspire, men remain without eating or drinking, and some become prophets and reveal future things." apollo was the god of prophecy above all others. he was born at delos, according to the poets; and it is there that the homeric poems say was one of his most ancient sanctuaries. thence, doubtless, issued the twenty famous oracles at the epoch of the colonisation. at delphi the priestess was seated on a tripod over a crack in the rock, from which exhaled mephitic vapours that rendered her delirious, and her incoherent exclamations were reduced into hexameters by the attendant priests. but there was also at delos the manteion, the prophetic grotto. this has of late years been discovered along with the foundations of the temple. the manteion is a gallery, naturally bored in the rock. the winds that penetrate it cause strange pipings and hollow moans, that served as an accompaniment to the oracles. but the most remarkable of these caverns was that of trophonios in beotia. pausanius tells us the legend of its origin. the beotians had suffered from drought for two years and sent to consult the oracle of delphi. the reply received was that they must refer themselves to trophonios at home. but who was the party? the beotians had never heard of him. then the oldest of their deputies recalled having once pursued a swarm of bees and followed it till it disappeared in a cave. that doubtless was the spot, and there, after the offering of sacrifices, trophonios obligingly showed himself, and explained who he was and what were his powers. since that time his oracle was much consulted, and happily an account of how he, or his priests, befooled visitors to the cave has been given us by pausanius from his personal experience. those who wished to consult the oracle had first to purify themselves by spending some days in the sanctuary of the guardian spirit and of fortune, to abstain from warm baths, but to bathe in the river hercynia; they might eat as much as they liked of the meat offered in sacrifice. "you are conducted during the night to the river, where you are bathed and rubbed with oil by two boys of the age of thirteen. then the priests take possession of you, and you are conducted to two fountains side by side. you drink of one, that of oblivion, so as to disengage your thoughts from what is past, then that of remembrance, to assure your recollecting what is about to take place. after having addressed your prayers to a statue, you go to the oracle, dressed in a linen tunic girded below the breast, and booted in the fashion of the country. the oracle is on the mountain above the sacred grove. it is surrounded by a marble wall, about the height of your waist. on this wall are planted twigs of copper linked together by copper filaments, and the gates are in this grating. within this enclosure is a chasm, not natural, but excavated with a good deal of art and regularity, in form like a baker's oven. there is no ladder there for descent into the cave, and one is brought, that is light and narrow. once at the bottom you see on one side, between the ground and the masonry, a hole about large enough for a man to squeeze through. one lies on the back, and holding in one hand a honey-cake, thrust the feet in at the opening, and then work oneself till the legs are in up to the knees. then, all at once, the rest of the body is dragged down with force and rapidity, just as if you were swept forward by an eddy in a river. "once arrived in the secret place, all do not learn the future in the same manner. some see what is to befall them unrolled in vision, others hear it by the ear. then you ascend by the same opening whereby you descended, going feet foremost. no one, it is said, has died in the cave, with the exception of one of the guardsmen of demetrius, and he went down, not to consult the god, but in hopes of plundering the sanctuary of its gold and silver; his carcase, they say, was not ejected by the orifice that is sacred, but was found in another spot. on issuing from the cave of trophonios the priests lay hold of you, and after having planted you on the seat of remembrance, question you as to what you have seen and heard. when you have told them, they hand you over, overwhelmed with fear, and unrecognisable by yourself and others, to other ministers who convey you to the edifice dedicated to the good genius and to fortune." those issuing from the cave for long after remained dejected, pale, and melancholy. pausanius says that after a while one who had gone through the ordeal could laugh; but suidas tells us that those who returned from having made the descent never smiled again, and this gave occasion to a saying relative to a preternaturally grave personage, "he has consulted the oracle of trophonios." plutarch gives us some further particulars. the description made by one of the characters he introduces speaks of visions caught by inhaling a stupefying gas. under its influence hallucinations were produced in which trophonios himself was thought to appear, and the tortures of tartarus were revealed. on emerging from the cave into fresh air, the questioner fell into fits of delirium, and thought he still saw strange visions. in the biography of apollonios of tyana, philostratus tells us that the sage and wonder-worker was very desirous to penetrate into the cave, but that the priest raised objections and made difficulties, till at last his patience failed and he entered by main force and remained within seven days. so much in this semi-fictitious biography is true perhaps--that this hero did force his way in. it is also true that he had sufficient discretion not to tell what he had discovered of the tricks there perpetrated. there was another of these caves at acharaca, near nysa, on the road to tralles. the gas there exhaled had a medical healing virtue, and also gave occasion to the delivery of oracles. persons suffering from an illness and placing confidence in the power of the gods, travelled thither and stayed some time with the priests, who lived near the cave. those ministers of the gods then entered the cavern and spent a night in it. after that they prescribed to their patients the remedies revealed to them in their dreams. often, however, they took their patients along with them into the cave, where they were expected to remain for several days fasting and falling into prophetic sleep. about four centuries before the christian era, there existed at rome a temple dedicated to jupiter capitolinus, by the tarquins, and beneath it was a subterranean chamber in which were preserved a collection of ancient oracles, the keeping of which was confided to his officers, the duumviri, and the penalty of death attached to the divulgation unlicensed, of their contents. according to the legend, a strange woman, the sibyl of cumæ, brought to tarquin the old nine books of oracles, and demanded for them three hundred pieces of gold. the king considered the price exorbitant, scoffed at the woman, and refused to buy. thereupon the sibyl cast three of the volumes into the fire, and demanded the same sum precisely for the remaining six. tarquin again declined to purchase. she then burnt three more, but still required for the remainder the original price. the king now thought that he had acted unwisely, and hastened to conclude the bargain and secure the oracles that contained prophecies relative to the destiny of the roman people. the oracles were written on palm-leaves in greek, and with various signs and hieroglyphs, and the volumes were bundles of these leaves tied together. in the year of rome, eighteen years before the christian era, the old temple of jupiter, built by the tarquins, was destroyed by fire, and with it perished the books of destiny. six years after the temple was rebuilt, and an attempt was made to recover the sibylline oracles, by sending throughout italy for oracles reported to be sibylline. the deputies sent brought back from erythæa a thousand verses, but the collection rapidly increased in such quantities that augustus ordered them to be examined, and such as proved to be worthless he burnt. after a second sifting, those that remained were put into two golden coffers and placed under the pedestal of the statue of the palatine apollo. as is well known, there were in circulation a number of forged sibylline oracles; some of these were the product of the jewish therapeutæ, others of christians. in his hatred of christianity, the emperor julian ordered search to be made for these fictitious oracular books, that they might be destroyed. in the temple of the palatine apollo caught fire and was destroyed. the christians charged julian with having caused the fire so as to get rid of the sibylline oracles hid under the statue of apollo. but these had not been injured; the gold boxes in which they were, were opened, and to their confusion the christians found that the oracles contained no prophecies concerning christ, only _sortes_ celebrating the gods zeus, aphrodite, hera, &c. the accusation brought by the christians against julian recoiled upon them, for it was they who, later, by the hands of stilicho, destroyed the collection. the order for the destruction was given by two christian emperors, honorius and arcadius, on the plea that these oracles favoured and encouraged paganism. saul, it will be remembered went to consult a witch in the cave of endor, where she conjured up before him the spirit of samuel. isaiah rebukes the jews for "lodging in the monuments," doubtless to obtain oracles from the dead, to raise up the ghosts of the deceased, and exhort from them prophecies as to the future. as already pointed out, the dead and the pagan gods were one and the same. to consult a deity was to consult a hero or an ancestor of a former age. there is a curious story in an icelandic saga of a shepherd, named hallbjörn, on a farm where was a huge cairn over the dead scald or poet thorleif. the shepherd, whilst engaged on his guard over his master's flock, was wont to lie on the ground and sleep there. on one occasion he saw the cairn open and the dead man come forth, and thorleif promised to endow him with the gift of poetry if he would compose his first lay in his, the dead man's praise. and he further promised that hallbjörn should become a famous scald and sing the praises of great chieftains. thereupon the tenant of the tomb retired within again, and the shepherd on waking found himself endowed with poetic gift, and he sang a lay in honour of thorleif. "and he became a famous scald, and went abroad, and sang songs in honour of many great men, and obtained high honour, and good gifts, and became very wealthy." [footnote: fornmavma sögur, copenh. , iii. pp. - .] it will be remembered that saul's interview was with the ghostly samuel through the intervention of the witch. and there are many stories of living men endeavouring to obtain knowledge of the future through invocation of the spirits of the dead. indeed spiritualists at the present day carry on the same business. one thing that conduced to the belief that certain caves were inhabited by gods and spirits, was that strange sounds at times issued from them. these were caused by currents of air entering some of the apertures and vibrating through the passages, provoking notes as if these galleries were organ pipes. this is the explanation of the Æolian cavern of terni, supposed to be the abode of spirits; and a cave near eisenach was long reported to be an entrance to hell, because of the moans and sighs that were heard issuing from it. the echo also was quite inexplicable to the ignorant, and was assumed to be the voice of some spirit or mountain gnome living in the heart of the rock, to whose habitation a cave gave access. an abandoned mine with a pool at the bottom, on dartmoor, is thought to be the abode of a spirit whose wails may be heard when the wind blows, and whence a voice issues calling out the name of that person who is next doomed to die in the parish of walkhampton. the most remarkable representative in the middle ages of the cave of trophonios was that in lough derg in ireland, the purgatory of s. patrick as it was called. the origin is obscure, but it sprang into notoriety through the publication by a monk, henry of saltrey, of the descent of a knight owain into it. owain had been in the service of king stephen, and he made his descent in the year . whether there ever were such a person as the knight owain, or whether he was a mere invention of henry of saltrey is uncertain. saltrey's account is precise as to the various stages through which owain passed, and it is a vulgar rendering of the common stories of visits to purgatory, of which dante's is the highest and most poetical version. lough derg is among the dreary and barren mountains and moorlands in the south of the county of donegal; in it is an island, with ribbed and curiously shaped rocks, and among these was supposed to be the entrance to purgatory. giraldus cambrensis, who wrote his "topography of ireland" in , mentions the island in lough derg as among the wonders of ireland. [footnote: but there is no mention of it among the wonders of ireland in the irish nennius.] it was, he says, divided into two parts, of which one was fair and pleasant, while the other part was wild and rough, and believed to be inhabited only by demons. in this part of the island, he adds, there were nine pits, in any one of which, if a person was bold enough to pass the night, he would be so much tormented by the demons that it was a chance if he were found alive in the morning; and it was reported that he who escaped alive would, from the anguish he suffered there, be relieved from the torments of the other world. giraldus continues by telling us that the natives called the place patrick's purgatory, and that it was said that the saint had obtained from god this public manifestation of the punishments and rewards of the other world, in order to convince his incredulous hearers. numerous visitors to lough derg in the middle ages published the narrative of what they had there seen and undergone, and rivalled each other in the extravagance of their accounts. there was a monastery on lough derg, and the monks had the key to the entrance to the cavern, but no visitor was suffered to pass within without the consent of the bishop of the diocese, and the payment of a heavy fee. among all the extravagance that was written by visitors about the purgatory, some retained their common sense, and perceived that there was either fraud or hallucination in the visions there supposed to be seen. froissart gives an account of a conversation he had with sir william lisle on this subject: "on the friday in the morning we rode out together, and on the road i asked him if he had accompanied the king in his expedition to ireland. he said he had. i then asked him if there was any foundation of truth in what was said of s. patrick's hole. he replied that there was, and that he and another knight had been there. they entered it at sunset, remained there the whole night, and came out at sunrise the next morning. i requested him to tell me whether he saw all the marvellous things that are said to be seen there. he made me the following answer: 'when i and my companion had passed the entrance of the cave, called the purgatory of s. patrick, we descended three or four steps (for you go down into it as into a cellar), but found our heads so much affected by the heat that we seated ourselves on the steps, which are of stone, and such a drowsiness came on that we slept there the whole night.' i asked if, when asleep, they knew where they were, and what visions they had. he replied that they had many and strange dreams, and they seemed, as they imagined, to see more than they would have done had they been in their beds. this they were both assured of. 'when morning came and we were awake, the door of the cave was opened, and we came out, but instantly lost all recollection of everything we had seen, and looked on the whole as a phantasm.'" it is apparent from this that the wild descriptions given by others were merely an account of their dreams or hallucinations; in many cases purely imaginary accounts, given for the sake of creating a sensation. i do not suppose that the monks of lough derg devised any scenic effects, but left the imagination of the dupes to riot of its own accord unassisted. in the fifteenth century a monk of eymstadt, in holland, undertook the pilgrimage to lough derg. he arrived at the lake, and applied to the prior for admission, who referred him to the bishop of the diocese. the monk then repaired to him, but as he was "poor and moneyless," the servants refused to admit him into their master's presence. having, however, with difficulty obtained an audience, he begged humbly to be suffered to visit s. patrick's purgatory. the bishop of clogher demanded a certain sum of money, which, he said, was due to him from every pilgrim who came on this errand. the monk represented his poverty, and after much urgent solicitation, the bishop grudgingly gave him the necessary licence. he then went to the prior, performed the usual ceremonies, and was shut up in the cavern. there he remained all night, in constant expectation of seeing something dreadful; but when the prior let him out next morning he had to admit that he had seen no vision of any sort. thoroughly dissatisfied with his experiences, he went direct to rome, and reported what he thought of s. patrick's purgatory to pope alexander vi. the pope was convinced that the whole thing was a fraud, and ordered the destruction of the purgatory. it was the eve of the reformation; mistrust of miracles was rife, and the pope was anxious to suppress one that when investigated might prove a scandal. the purgatory was accordingly suppressed, the cave closed, but not destroyed, and no pilgrims admitted to it; this was in . the closing of the cave did not, however, interfere with the pilgrimage, and the archbishop of armagh in urged on pope pius iii. to withdraw the prohibition. this was done, and profuse indulgences were offered to such as revisited the cave or at all events took part in the lough derg pilgrimage. on th september , sir james balfour and sir william stewart, carrying out the orders of the government, seized "for her majesty's use and benefit the island of the purgatory," and unroofed and otherwise destroyed the monastic buildings there. but superstition is not to be killed by acts of parliament. by a statute of the second year of queen anne all pilgrimages to s. patrick's purgatory were decreed to be "riotous and unlawful assemblies," and were made punishable as such; and resort to the purgatory had become more frequent owing to clement x. having granted a plenary indulgence to such as visited it. since then these indulgences have been repeatedly renewed. at present the pilgrimages are again in full swing, and there is a prior on the island, a hospice for the reception of the visitors, and a chapel of s. patrick and another of s. mary. "between the two churches the space is taken up with the campanile and penitential beds. there are five of these beds, and they are dedicated to ss. dabeoc, columba, catherine, brendan, and bridget. they are circular in form, measuring, with the exception of s. columba's, about ten feet in diameter. s. columba's is about twice the size of the others. they are surrounded with walls, varying in height from one to two feet and each of them is entered by a narrow gap or doorway." [footnote: "lough derg," by rev. j. e. mckenna, dublin, n.d.] it would seem then that the old superstitious practices are being reverted to as nearly as the spirit of the times will allow, and the destruction of the cave itself will admit. it is perhaps needless to add that there is no historical evidence for the apostle of ireland having ever been at lough derg. derg is probably a mistake for deirg, and lough deirg would mean the lake of the cave. gough, in his additions to camden, thus described the purgatory: "it was about sixteen feet and a half long, by two feet one inch wide, built of freestone, covered with broad flags and green turf laid over them, and was so low and narrow that a tall man could hardly sit, much less stand in it. in the side was a window just wide enough to admit a faint ray of light; in the floor a cavity capable of containing a man at his length, and under a large stone at the end of the pavement a deep pit; the bottom of the cave was originally much below the surface of the ground. it stood on the east side of the church, in the churchyard, encompassed with a wall, and surrounded by circles or cells, called the beds, scarcely three feet high, denominated from several saints. the penitents who visited the island, after fasting on bread and water for nine days and making processions round these holy stations thrice a day barefoot, for the first seven days, and six times on the eighth, washing their weary limbs each night in the lake, on the ninth enter the cave. here they observe a twenty-four hours fast, tasting only a little water, and upon quitting it bathe in the lake, and so conclude the ceremony. "leave being first obtained of the bishop, the prior represented to the penitents all the horror and difficulty of the undertaking, suggesting to them at the same time an easier penance. if they persevered in their resolution, they were conducted to the door with a procession from the convent, and after twenty-four hours confinement let out next morning with the like ceremony." [footnote: "st. patrick's purgatory," by thomas wright, london, . _analecta bollandiana,_ t. xxvii. ( ). o'connor, "st. patrick's purgatory," dublin, . macritchie, "a note on st. patrick's purgatory," in the journal of the roy. soc. of ant. of ireland, .] as may well be supposed, after the long preliminaries and the heavy fees paid, the penitents could hardly, unless unusually strong-minded like the dutch monk, declare roundly that they had seen nothing. i do not suppose, as already said, that there was any fraud deliberately enacted, personages dressing up as devils and angels, but that the visitor's own dreams, and his vanity or lively imagination were left to propagate the story of the marvels to be seen and heard in lough derg. but wonderful caves, entrances to a mysterious underworld, are common in all countries. a story is told of friar conrad, the confessor of s. elizabeth of thuringia, a barbarous, brutal man, who was sent into germany by gregory ix. to burn and butcher heretics. the pope called him his "dilectus filius." in he was engaged in controversy with a heretical teacher, who, beaten in argument, according to conrad's account, offered to show him christ and the blessed virgin, who with their own mouths would ratify the doctrine taught by the heretic. to this conrad submitted, and was led into a cave in the mountains. after a long descent they entered a hall brilliantly illumined, in which sat a king on a golden throne and by him the queen mother. the heretic prostrated himself in adoration, and bade conrad do the same. but the latter drew forth a consecrated host and adjured the vision, whereupon all vanished. the german stories of the mountain of venus, in which the tannhäuser remains, or of frederick barbarossa, in the unterberg, or the welsh stories of king arthur in the heart of the mountain, seen occasionally, or the danish fables of holger dansk in the vaults under the kronnenburg, all refer to the generally spread belief in an underworld inhabited by spirits. in the year died lazarus aigner of bergheim, near salzburg, a poor man. at his death he handed over to his son a ms. account of a descent he had made into the underworld in , and this was at once published and created a considerable sensation. according to his account, in the year just mentioned, he was on the unterberg with his master, the parish priest, elbenberger, and another, when they visited a chapel on the rock, above the entrance to which were cut the letters s.o.r.g.e.i.s.a.t.o.m., out of which they could make nothing. on returning home the priest observed that he wished that lazarus would revisit the place, and make sure that the inscription had been accurately copied. accordingly, next day, aigner reascended the mountain and found the chapel again. but he had started late, having his ordinary work to do before he had leisure to go, and the evening was darkening in. as the way led by precipices, he deemed it inadvisable to retrace his steps that night, and so laid himself down to sleep. next morning, thursday, he woke refreshed, but to his amazement saw standing before him an aged barefooted friar, who asked him whence he came and what had brought him there. to this lazarus aigner answered truthfully. then the hermit said to him, "i will explain to you what is the signification of these letters, and will show you something in vision." then the barefooted friar led him into a chasm, and unlocked an iron door in the rock, by means of which lazarus was admitted into the heart of the mountain. there he saw a huge hall out of which went seven passages that led to the cathedral of salzburg, the church of reichenhall, feldkirch in tirol, gemund, seekirchen, s. maximilien, s. michael, hall, st. zeno, traunstein, s. dionysius and s. bartholmæ on the konigsee. here also aigner saw divine worship conducted by dead monks and canons, and with the attendance of countless dead of all times in strange old-world costumes. he recognised many whom he had known when alive. then he was shown the library, and given the interpretation of the mysterious letters, but as it was in latin, aigner forgot it. after seven days and as many nights spent in the underground world, he returned to daylight, and as the hermit parted with him he solemnly bade him reserve the publication of what he had seen and heard till the expiration of thirty-five years, when times of distress and searchings of heart would come, and then the account of his vision might be of profit. and exactly at the end of the thirty- five years lazarus aigner died. there can be little doubt that, if the whole was not a clumsy fabrication, it was the record of a dream he had when sleeping, on the mountain outside the chapel of the unterberg. roderic, the last of the goths, has been laid hold of by legend and by poetry. southey wrote his poem on the theme, and scott his "vision of don roderic," an odd blunder in the title, as _don_ was not used prior to the ninth century. roderic ascended the throne of the goths in spain in . according to the legend he seduced the daughter of julian, count of the gothic possessions in africa. she complained to her father, and he in revenge invited the moors, whom he had hitherto valiantly opposed, to aid him in casting roderic from his throne, the issue of which was the defeat and death of roderic, and the occupation of nearly the whole peninsula by the moors. at toledo is a cave with a tower at its entrance formerly dedicated to hercules, and tradition said that he who entered would learn the future fate of spain. the cave still exists. the entrance lies near san ginos; it was opened in by archbishop siliceo, but has never since, according to forbes, been properly investigated. the story went that in spite of the entreaties of the prelate and some of his great men, roderic burst open the iron door, and descended into the cave, where he found a bronze statue with a battle-axe in its hands. with this it struck the floor repeatedly, making the hall reverberate with the sound of the blows. then roderic read on the wall the inscription, "unfortunate king, thou hast entered here in evil hour." on the right side of the wall were the words, "by strange nations thou shalt be dispossessed and thy subjects departed." on the shoulders of the statue were written the words, "i summon the arabs," and on its breast, "i do mine office." the king left the cave sorrowful, and the same night an earthquake wrecked the tower and buried the entrance to the cave. evidently shakespeare had this story in his mind when he wrote the scene of the descent of macbeth into the cave of hekate. although the oracles had ceased to speak in the pagan temples and caves, yet the desire remained to question the spirits and to inquire into the future, and for this purpose throughout the middle ages either wizards were had recourse to that a look might be taken in their magic mirrors, or else the churches were resorted to and the sacred text received as the response of god to some question put by the inquirer. when chramm revolted against his father clothair, he approached dijon, when, says gregory of tours, the priests of the cathedral having placed three books on the altar, to wit the prophets, the acts of the apostles, and the gospels, they prayed god to announce to them what would befall chramm, and by his power reveal whether he would be successful and come to the throne, and they received the reply as each opened the book. gregory also says that meroveus, flying before the wrath of his father chilperic, placed three books on the tomb of s. martin at tours, the psalter, the book of kings, and the gospels; he kept vigil all night, and passed three days fasting. but when he opened the books at random, the responses were so alarming that he despaired, and left the sepulchre in tears. [footnote: for many more instances see lalanne (l.), _curiosités des traditions_, paris, .] the councils sought to put an end to this superstition. the sixteenth canon of the council of vannes, held in , forbade clerks, under pain of excommunication, to consult these _sortes sacræ_, as they were called. this prohibition was extended to the laity by the council of agde in , and by that of orleans in . it was renewed repeatedly, as, for instance, in the council of auxerre in , by a capitulary of charlemagne in , and by the council of selingstadt in , but always in vain. if inquirers might not seek for answers in the churches, at the tombs of the saints, they would seek them in the dens of necromancers. in spite of this condemnation, consultation of the divine oracles even formed a portion of the liturgy; and at the consecration of a bishop, at the moment when the book of the gospels was placed on his head, the volume was opened, and the first verse at the head of the page was regarded as a prognostication of the character of his episcopate. there are numerous accounts of such presages in the chronicles. guibert of nogent relates, for instance, that when landric, elected bishop of noyon, was receiving episcopal unction, the text of the gospel foreshadowed evil--"a sword shall pierce through thine own soul also." after having committed several crimes, he was assassinated. he had, as his successor, the dean of orleans; the new bishop on being presented for consecration, there was sought, in the gospel, for a prognostication concerning him, but the page proved a blank. it was as though god had said, "with regard to this man i have nothing to say." and in fact he died a few months later. the same usage was practised in the greek church. at the consecration of athanasius, nominated to the patriarchate of constantinople by constantine porphyrogenetos, "caracalla, bishop of nicomedia, having brought forward the gospel," says the byzantine historian pachymeros, "the people were alert to learn the oracle of the opening of the volume. the bishop of nicomedia having perceived that the leading words were 'prepared for the devil and his angels,' groaned in his heart, and covering the passage with his hand, turned the leaves and opened at these words, 'and the birds of the air lodged in the branches of it,' which seemed to have no connection with the ceremony. all that could be was done to conceal the oracles, but it was found impossible to cover up the fact. it was said that these passages condemned the consecration, but they were not the effect of chance, because there is no such thing as chance in the celebration of the divine mysteries." when clovis was about to attack the visigoths and drive them out of aquitaine, he sent to inquire of the oracles of god at the tomb of s. martin. his envoys arrived bearing rich presents, and on entering the church they heard the chanter recite the words of the psalm, "thou hast girded me with strength unto the battle: thou shalt throw down mine enemies under me. thou hast made mine enemies also to turn their backs upon me: and i shall destroy them that hate me" (ps. xviii. , ). they returned with joy to the king, and the event justified the oracle. i might fill pages with illustrations, but as these have no immediate reference to cave oracles, i will quote no more. it is obvious that recourse to churches and the tombs of the saints had taken the place of inquiries at the temples of the gods, and the grottoes dedicated to fawns and nymphs. so also it was by no means uncommon for recourse to be had to churches in which to sleep so as to obtain an oracle as to healing, as it had been customary for the same purpose to seek pagan temples. this was called _incubation_. the dreams produced were often the result of inhaling a gas that escaped in some of the caves, or through fissures in the floors of the temples. at hierapolis in phrygia was a cavern of cybele. at the close of the fifth century, when the temple of the goddess had been completely abandoned through the interdiction of paganism, the philosopher damascius, who had remained faithful to the old beliefs of his country, descended, along with a companion, into the charonion in spite of the danger attending it, or was supposed to exist. he came forth safe and sound, according to his own account, but hardly had he reached his home before he dreamt that he had become attys, the lover of cybele, and that he assisted at a festival held in his honour. there were other such caves. in the visions seen by those sleeping in them, the divinities of healing appeared and prescribed the remedies to be taken by those who consulted them. pilgrimages to these resorts-- temples and caves of Æsculapius, isis, and serapis, were common events. those who desired to consult serapis slept in his temple at canope. when alexander was sick of the malady whereof he died, his friends went thither to learn if any cure were possible. "those who go to inquire in dream of the goddess isis," says diodorus siculus, "recover their health beyond expectation. many have been healed of whom the physicians despaired." the temples were hung with ex-votos. at lebedes, in lydia, the sick went to pass the night in the temple of the soteri, who appeared to them in dreams. it was the same in a temple in sardinia. so also in one of ino in laconia. in the cheronese, the goddess hemithæa worked the same miracles as did isis. she appeared in dream to the infirm and prescribed the manner in which they might be healed. in the charonion of nyssa it was the priest who consulted the gods in dream. in the temple of Æsculapius near citheræa, a bed was always ready for incubation. christianity could not uproot so deeply founded superstitious convictions and practices. the emperor constantine consecrated to the archangel michael two churches near byzantium, one was at anaplous, on the bosphorus, the other on the opposite shore at brochoi. this second church replaced a temple that had, according to tradition, been founded by the argonauts, and was called the sosthenion. according to john malala, constantine slept in the temple and asked that he might be instructed in dream to whom the church which was to replace it should be dedicated. great numbers from byzantium and the country round had resort to these churches to seek the guidance of the archangel in their difficulties and a cure when sick. sozomen, the ecclesiastical historian, relates an instance of a cure effected in one of the churches of s. michael. aquilinus, a celebrated lawyer, was ill with jaundice. "being half dead, he ordered his servants to carry him to the church, in hopes of being cured there or dying there. when in it, god appeared to him in the night and bade him drink a mixture of honey, wine and pepper. he was cured, although the doctors thought the potion too hot for a malady of the bile. i heard also that probian, physician of the court, was also cured at the michaelon by an extraordinary vision, of pains he endured in his feet." "not being able to record all the miracles in this church, i have selected only these two out of many." [footnote: _hist. eccles._, ii. ; see for many illustrations maury (a.), _la magic_, paris, . part ii., chap. i.] that which took place at the michaelons on the bosphorus occurred elsewhere, in churches dedicated to ss. cosmas and damian. at Ægae in cilicia was a shrine of Æsculapius, and incubation was practised in his temple. it afterwards became a church of cosmas and damian, and the same practices continued after the rededication. the chain of superstitious practices continued after the change in religion without any alteration. in the church of s. hilaire in france is to be seen the saint's bed, "to which they carry insane persons, and after certain prayers and religious rites, they lay them to sleep in the bed, and they recover." [footnote: _jodocus sincerus, itin. galliae, ._] in my "book of south wales" i have shown that the same usage continued as late as the beginning of the nineteenth century in the church of christchurch near caerleon, on the gravestone of one john colmer, and have reproduced a print of , representing a man lying there to get cured. we have accordingly a series of customs beginning in caves dedicated to heathen deities, transferred to their temples, then to churches under the invocation of christian saints and of angels. one might well have supposed that with the advance of education, there would have been an end to all cave oracles and grotto apparitions. but not so--there is a special mystery in a cave that stimulates the imagination, and the final phase of this tendency is the apparition at lourdes, and the consecration of the grotto. the vision at le salette has not retained its hold on the superstitious, because it was on an alp, but that of lourdes being in a cave, roused religious enthusiasm to the highest pitch. that the supposed apparition talked nonsense made the whole the more delightfully mysterious. "yonder, beneath the ivy which drapes the rock, the grotto opens," writes zola, "with its eternally flaming candles. from a distance it looks rather squat and misshapen, a very narrow and humble aperture for the breath of the infinite which issued from it. the statue of the virgin has become a mere speck, which seems to move in the quiver of the atmosphere heated by the little yellow flames. to see anything it is necessary to raise oneself; for the silver altar, the harmonium, the heaps of bouquets thrown there, the votive offerings streaking the smoky walls, are scarcely distinguishable from behind the railing." the floor of the grotto is scarcely raised above the level of the river gave, which has had to be thrust back to make room for a passage to the mouth of the cavern. the whole story of the apparition of the virgin there rests on the unsupported assertion of an hysterical scrofulous peasant girl. but who can say that the cult of sacred grottoes is a thing of the past when tens of thousands of pilgrims visit lourdes annually, and believe in the story that confers sanctity on it! [illustration: kynaston's cave. interior. on the right is kynaston's chamber, on the left is the stable of his horse. the lettering and date cut in the pier were made subsequent to his death.] [illustration: ness cliff. cave occupied by humphrey kynaston the outlaw, with his horse. in the interior is the stable as well as kynaston's own cell.] chapter xi robbers' dens the name of the outlaw, humphrey kynaston, who, with his horse, lived in the face of a precipice, is not likely speedily to be forgotten in shropshire; his exploits are still matter of tradition, and the scenes of his adventures are yet pointed out. humphrey was the son of sir roger kynaston, of hordley, near ellesmere. the family derived from wales and from the princes of powys. their arms were argent, a lion rampant sable. sir roger kynaston had zealously embraced the side of the york faction. king henry vi. had attempted to make peace by holding a conference in london, when the lord mayor at the head of five thousand armed citizens kept peace between the rival parties. henry proposed an agreement, which was accepted, and then the king, with representatives of both sides, went in solemn procession to s. paul's. to the great joy of the spectators, the yorkist and lancastrian leaders walked before him arm in arm, richard, duke of york, leading by the hand the queen, the real head of her husband's party. but the pacification had been superficial. the yorkists were determined to win the crown from the feeble head of henry. at their head was the earl of warwick, and the king had hoped to get him out of the way by making him governor of calais. but strife broke out again six months after the apparent reconciliation at s. paul's. the earl of salisbury was the first to move; but he had no sooner put himself in march from yorkshire to join the duke of york at ludlow, than lord audley, with men, attempted to intercept him. they met at blore heath, in staffordshire. audley was drawn into a snare, and slain by sir roger kynaston with his own hand; along with him fell of his followers. thenceforth the kynastons assumed, not only the audley arms and the motto, "blore heath," but the rising sun of york as their crest. wild humphrey was the son of sir roger kynaston, by his wife the lady elizabeth, daughter of henry gray, earl of tankerville, and lord of powys. he was the second son, and not expecting to succeed to the family estates, was given the constableship of the castle of middle, which had at one time belonged to the lords le strange, but which had lapsed to the crown. he sadly neglected his duties, and allowed the castle to fall into disrepair, almost into ruin. this was not altogether his own fault. the castle was of importance as guarding the marches against the welsh, always ready, at the least provocation, to make raids into england. the office of constable was honorary rather than remunerative, a poor recompense for the services rendered by sir roger to the yorkist cause. humphrey was expected to keep up the castle out of his own resources, and he was without private means. it was true that with the accession of the house of tudor, danger from the welsh was less imminent: but henry vii. was a parsimonious monarch, careful mainly to recover for the exchequer the sums of which it had been depleted in the wars of the roses. as humphrey was short of money, he took to robbery. the wars of the roses had produced anarchy in the land, and every man's hand was against his fellow, if that fellow had something of which he might be despoiled. the story is told that one day wild humphrey rode to the manor-house of the lloyds of aston, and requested a draught of wine. with ready hospitality a silver beaker was brought forth swimming with the juice of the grape. humphrey, who was mounted, drained it to the last drop, then, striking spurs into his horse, galloped away, carrying the silver vessel with him. as has been said of robin hood, so it was told of the shropshire freebooter, that he robbed the rich and befriended the poor. on one occasion he stopped the steward of a gentleman and plundered him of the rents just received. the lord of the manor sent him a message that he had been a forbearing landlord, but now he absolutely must put the screw upon his tenants to make up for his loss. kynaston at once waylaid another gentleman's steward, and paid the first back to the last penny with the proceeds of the second robbery. his depredations at length became so intolerable that he was outlawed in the eighth year of henry vii. as this year began on the nd august , and did not end till the st of august , it is not quite certain in which year of our reckoning he was placed under ban. he was now obliged to fly from the dilapidated castle of middle, and seek himself out a place of refuge. this he found or made for himself in the face of the cliff of ness. this is a hill of new red sandstone, near bass church, that forms an abrupt scarp towards the south. the top commands a superb view of the shropshire plain, with the breiden hills rising out of them, and the long mynd to the south. the western horizon is walled up by the welsh mountains. formerly the head and slopes of ness cliff were open down, but have been enclosed and planted of late years by earl brownlow, so that it is not easy to realise what the appearance was when wild humphrey took up his abode in the rock. in the cliff, that is reached by a rapid ascent, and which rises above the slope some feet, he cut a flight of steps in the side of a buttress that projects, till he reached the main face of the crag, about half-way up. then he scooped out a doorway, next excavated two chambers, one to serve as a stable for his horse, the other for a habitation for himself. in the latter he formed a hearth, and bored a hole upwards in a slanting direction, till he reached daylight, and this served as chimney. beside his door he cut a circular orifice to act as window. the doorway was closed by a stout door sustained in place by a massive bar, the socket holes to receive which remain. in the pier between the stable and his own apartment, he cut two recesses, probably to receive a lamp. between these a later hand has engraved the initials h.k., and the date . as humphrey died in , this was, of course, none of his doing. at the foot of the cliff near the first step is a trough or manger cut in the living rock, apparently to receive water, but as no water exudes from the rock, it must have served for the oats or other corn given to his horse. it is traditionally said that wild humphrey's horse pastured in proximity to the ness. when humphrey saw danger, and when the shades of evening fell, he whistled; whereupon the beast ran like a cat up the narrow steps in the face of the rock, and entered its stable. once there, kynaston was master of the situation, for only one man at a time could mount the stair, and this was commanded by his window, through which with a pike he could transfix or throw down an intruder. where now stands the national school at the foot of the hill was at that time a meadow, to the grass of which his horse was partial. the farmer to whom the meadow belonged naturally enough objected, and collected a number of men who linked themselves together with ropes and surrounded the field. the horse took no notice but continued browsing. the ring gradually contracted on him. kynaston saw the proceeding from his eyrie, and uttered a shrill whistle. at once the gallant steed pricked up his ears, snorted, ran, leaped clean over the head of a man, and scrambled up the stair in the cliff, to his master's shelter. on another occasion a thief, thinking it no harm to rob a felon, succeeded in leaping on the horse's back. but the beast, feeling that some one was astride of him other than wild humphrey, ran to the cliff, and the rider, frightened at the prospect of being carried up the rock side and into the power of the desperate outlaw, was but too thankful to throw himself off and get away with a broken arm. humphrey had two wives, both welsh girls, whom he carried off, but married. gough, in his history of middle, says: "humphrey kynaston had two wives, but both of soe mean birth that they could not claim to any coat of arms." by the first he had a son, edward, who died young. by the second he had three sons, edward, robert, and roger. if tradition may be trusted he proved so brutal and so bad a husband that his second wife left and returned to her kinsfolk in wales. his son edward was heir to the last lord powys, and continued the succession. humphrey's elder brother died without lawful issue, and the honours and estates of the family devolved on edward, upon his father's death in . now the laws relating to the marriage of englishmen with welsh women were still in force. the english parliament, in , had passed a series of the most oppressive and cruel ordinances ever enacted against any people; prohibiting marriage between english and welsh, and disfranchising and disqualifying any englishman from holding or inheriting property, if he had married a welsh woman, and closing all schools and learned professions to the welsh. these infamous laws had been re-enforced by parliament in , and were not repealed when henry vii. came to the throne, as might have been anticipated. but henry granted the welsh a charter, which rendered the administration less rigorous. these tyrannous laws were not repealed till . now, the fact that humphrey's marriage with welsh women stood against him in no way justified his treatment of his wives. deserted by his second wife, wild humphrey was assisted by his mother, who came to ruyton, in the neighbourhood, and carried him food on sunday, a day of civil freedom. on one occasion when he had been committing his usual depredations, on the further side of the severn, the under sheriff at the head of a posse rode to arrest him, and for this purpose removed several planks of montford bridge, by which he was expected to return, and then laid in wait till he arrived. in due course humphrey kynaston rode to the severn bridge and prepared to cross. thereupon the _posse comitatus_ rose and took possession of the bridge end believing that they had him entrapped. but the outlaw spurred his horse, which leaped the gap, and he escaped. a farmer, who had been looking on, so the legend tells, called out, "kynaston, i will give thee ten cows and a bull for thy horse." "get thee first the bull and cows that can do such a feat," shouted the outlaw in reply, "and then we will effect the exchange." the leap of kynaston's horse was measured and marked out on knockin heath, and cut in the turf, with the letters h.k. at each end. the accession of a welsh prince to the crown was in reality a fortunate thing for the kynastons, especially for wild humphrey; for ever since the rising of owen glendower, an englishman who had married a welsh woman was, as already said, legally disqualified from holding any office of trust, and from acquiring or inheriting land in england. consequently humphrey's issue by his welsh wife might have been debarred from representing the family but for the accession of henry vii. as it turned out, since his elder brother left no issue, the son of humphrey eventually inherited the family estates of the kynastons. two and a half or three years after his outlawry, humphrey was pardoned, th may . the pardon is still extant, and is in the possession of mr. kynaston, of hardwick hall and hordley, the present representative of the family. the direct line from wild humphrey expired in . it is somewhat noticeable that in all the successive generations there was no further outbreak of the wild blood. the kynastons descending from the outlaw, who was the terror of the countryside, were orderly country gentlemen, who did their duty and pursued harmless pleasures. perhaps wild humphrey was rather a product of his lawless times, of the terrible disorders of the wars of the roses, and of the cruel law that blasted him and his issue, on account of his welsh marriages, than a freebooter out of sporting propensities. tradition says that his continued misconduct and ill-treatment of his wife kept her estranged from him. but on his deathbed he had one single desire, and that was to see her and obtain her pardon. he stoutly refused to be visited by any leech; and only reluctantly agreed to allow a "wise woman," who lived at welsh felton, near the scene of his old exploits at ness cliff, to visit him and prescribe herbs. on her arrival, however, his humour had changed, and he impatiently turned away, saying, "i'll have none of your medicines. i want naught but my elizabeth, my poor wronged wife." "and she is here," answered the wise woman, throwing off her hood. humphrey turned and laid his head on her bosom, and without another word, but with his eyes on her face, breathed his last. is the story true or _ben trovato_? who can say! it reposes on tradition. ness cliff, the rock, in the face of which humphrey kynaston lived four hundred years ago, remains, with his cave, his flight of steps, up which ran his faithful horse, his stable, and the feeding trough, and the hearth on which burned wild humphrey's fire, very much as he left it. only one feature is changed. there, from his rock, his eye ranged over the rolling woodland and open champagne country for miles so that he could see and prepare against the enemy who ventured to approach his stronghold; now it is buried in larch and austrian pine plantations, so that nothing is visible from the cave, save their green boughs. it seems strange that for so many years he can have been suffered to continue his depredations without an attempt being made to surround his rock and keep him imprisoned therein till he was starved into surrender. but the explanation is probably this. he had made friends among the peasantry of the neighbourhood, whom he never molested, and to whom he showed many kindnesses; and they rewarded him by giving him timely warning of the approach of those bent on his capture, and thus enabled him to mount his horse, gallop away, and conceal himself elsewhere. yet this only partly explains the mystery. if the cave were deserted, why did not the sheriff and his _posse comitatus_ destroy the steps leading up into it, and thus render a retreat into it impossible? the only conclusion at which one can arrive is that the custodians of the law in the fifteenth century were half-hearted in the discharge of their duty, that there was a secret admiration for the wild outlaw in their hearts, and that they were reluctant to see the scion of a brave and ancient house brought to the gallows. some men have become predatory animals, and as such seek out lairs as would the beasts of prey. the chinaman possesses an instinctive reversion to old subterranean life. wherever he goes, wherever he succeeds in forming a "china-town," he begins to burrow and undermine the houses in which he and his fellow-countrymen live, and a labyrinth of passages and chambers is constructed, communicating with the several dwellings, so that a criminal chinaman can rarely be trapped in the native quarter by the police. when san francisco was burnt, the ground under the chinese town was found to be honeycombed with runs and lurking-holes to an astounding extent. when david had to escape from the pursuit of saul, he fled first of all to gath, but being recognised there, he made his way to the cave of adullam. "and every one that was in distress, and every one that was in debt, and every one that was discontented, gathered themselves unto him, and he became a captain over them; and there were with him about four hundred men." [footnote: sam. xxii. - ] in a word, he became the head of a party of freebooters, who laid the neighbourhood under contribution. the palestine surveyors have identified the cave of adullam with one now called by the peasants aid-el-ma. it lies in a round hill about feet high, pierced with a number of caverns; the hill itself being isolated by several valleys and marked by ancient ruins, tombs, and quarryings. "a cave which completes the identification exists in the hill. it is not necessary to suppose that the one used by david was of great size, for such spacious recesses are avoided by the peasantry even now, from their dampness and tendency to cause fever. their darkness, moreover, needs many lights, and they are disliked from the numbers of scorpions and bats frequenting them. the caves used as human habitations, at least in summer, are generally about twenty or thirty paces across, lighted by the sun, and comparatively dry. i have often seen such places with their roofs blackened by smoke: families lodging in one, goats, cattle, and sheep, stabled in another, and grain or straw stored in a third. at adullam are two such caves in the northern slope of the hill, and another further south, while the opposite sides of the tributary valley are lined with rows of caves, all smoke- blackened, and mostly inhabited, or used as pens for flocks and herds. "the cave on the south of the hill itself was tenanted by a single family when the surveyors visited it, just as it might have been by david and his immediate friends, while his followers housed themselves in those near at hand." [footnote: geikie (c.), "the holy land and the bible," lond. , i. p. .] the haunts of the bandits in the times of herod must have been very much like those in dordogne. they were high up in the face of precipices in galilee, and he was able only to subdue these gangs of freebooters by letting his soldiers down in baskets from the top of the cliffs, with machines for forcing entrance. [footnote: josephus, "antiq.," xiv. .] stanley says [footnote: "sinai and palestine," , pp. - .]: "like all limestone formations, the hills of palestine abound in caves. in these innumerable rents, and cavities, and holes, we see the shelter of the people of the land in those terrible visitations, as when 'lot went up out of zoar, and dwelt in a cave.' or as when 'in the days of uzziah, king of judah, they fled before the earthquake to the ravine of the mountains;' to the rocky fissures, safer, even though themselves rent by the convulsions, than the habitations of man. we see in them, also, the hiding-places which served sometimes for the defence of robbers and insurgents, sometimes for the refuge of those of whom 'the world was not worthy;' the prototypes of the catacombs of the early christians, of the caverns of the vaudois and the covenanters. the cave of the five kings at makkedah; the 'caves, and dens, and strongholds, and 'rocks,' and 'pits,' and 'holes' in which the israelites took shelter from the midianites in the time of gideon, from the philistines in the time of saul; the cleft of the cliff etam, into which samson went down to escape the vengeance of his enemies; the caves of david at adullam and at maon, and of saul at engedi; the cave in which obadiah hid the prophets of the lord; the caves of the robber hordes above the plain of gennesareth; the sepulchral caves of the gadarene demoniacs; the cave of jotopata, where josephus and his countrymen concealed themselves in their last struggle, continue from first to last what has been called the cave-life of the israelite nation." the vast grotto of lombrive in ariège has been already mentioned. it became a den of a band of murderous brigands at the beginning of the nineteenth century. a detachment of soldiers was sent to dislodge them in ; to reach the great hall access is had by crawling through a narrow passage, and here the robbers murdered as many as of the soldiers, taking them one after another as they emerged from the passage, and cutting their throats. [footnote: "spelunca," paris, , t. vi. p. .] the passage now bears the name of that of _du crime_. the surtshellir in iceland has attracted a great deal of attention, perhaps because it is so different from other caves, being formed in the lava. its origin is very easily explained. at a great eruption of lava from a neighbouring crater, the crust hardened rapidly whilst the viscid current below continued to flow, and this latter flowed on till it also became rigid, and left a great gap between it and the original crust. i visited it in . it has several branches, and in it lie pools perpetually frozen. there are gaps here and there in the roof through which rays of light penetrate, and also snow that heaps itself on the floor. in one side-chamber is a great accumulation of sheep- bones. in the thirteenth century a band of twenty-four robbers took up their abode in this cavern, and made excursions in all directions around, robbing farmhouses, and driving away sheep. when this had gone on for some time the bonders united and succeeded in surrounding the gang, and killing eighteen of them. the six who escaped fled to the snow mountains, and were never heard of again. now the strange thing is, how could the men live through a winter in this horrible cavern with a floor of ice in many places, and with a temperature below freezing even in summer? fuel they could not procure, as there are but black sandy moors around that grow nothing but dwarf willow, and that is so scarce as to be inefficient for their purpose. they must have supplied themselves with light and heat by the tallow of the sheep they killed, run into a lamp. this is the only heating fuel used at present by the icelanders, apart from the animal heat they give out in the closely sealed common room they occupy as sleeping quarters as well as dining-room and workshop. it may be vastly pleasant in theory to live at other people's expense, but it has its drawbacks, and in this instance _le jeu ne valait pas la chandelle_. in pitscottie's "chronicles of scotland," and in holinshed's "scottish chronicle," at the end of the reign of james ii. there is a story of a brigand who is said to have lived in a den called feruiden, or ferride's den, in angus, who was burnt along with his wife and family for cannibalism, the youngest daughter alone was spared as she was but a twelvemonth old. but when she grew up she was convicted of the same crime, and was condemned to be burnt or buried alive. i have given elsewhere a very full account of the cave--a den of robbers beside which that to which gil blas was carried was a paradise --la crouzate on the causse de gramat in the department of lot. i will therefore here mention it but superficially. at the entrance are notches in the rock, showing that at one time it was closed by a door. a rapid descent is suddenly brought to a standstill by an opening in the floor of a veritable _oubliette_, and this opening is crossed only by a bridge of poles, the hand helping to maintain the balance by pressing against the wall of rock on the right hand. then comes a second hollow, but not so serious, and then a third that can only be descended by a ladder. this opens into a hall in the midst of which yawns a horrible chasm, across which lies a rough bridge of poles that give access to some small chambers beyond, which had formerly been tenanted by the brigands who had their lair in this cavern. notches in the walls of the well show that across it were laid poles that sustained a pulley, by means of which a bucket could be let down to the well feet, for water. my cousin, mr. george young, actually found remains of the crane employed for the purpose at the bottom of the well. about the year , m. delpons, prefect of the department of lot, observing a huge block of limestone lying in a field near la crouzate, had it raised, and discovered beneath it twelve skeletons ranged in a circle, their feet inwards, and an iron chain linking them together; probably the remains of the bandits who made of la crouzate their den, whence they issued to rob in the neighbourhood. according to the local tradition, the peasants of the surrounding country paid a poll-tax for every sheep and ox they possessed so as to raise a levée which should sweep the causse of these marauders, and it was due to this effort that the band was captured and every member of it hung to the branches of the walnut tree beneath which lies the broad stone. at gargas, near montzéjeau, in hautes pyrenées, is a prehistoric cavern of considerable extent. in it have been found sealed up in stalagmite the remains of primitive man. now the significant fact exists that just ten years before the outbreak of the french revolution this cave was inhabited by blaise ferrage, a stone-mason, who at the age of twenty- two deliberately threw aside his trade and retired into the grotto, whence he sallied forth to seize, murder, and eat children and young girls. men also he shot, strangled, or stabbed, and dragged to his lair, there to devour their carcases. for three years this monster terrorized the countryside. the number of his victims was innumerable. as last he was caught and broken on the wheel in december . there is no evidence that the naked prehistoric men who had inhabited the cave of gargas were cannibals. that the outlaw and he who has dropped out of the ranks of ordered social life, and he who seeks to prey on civilised society should naturally, instinctively, make the cave his home, is what we might expect. he is reverting to the habits of early man whose hand was against every man. in the "two gentlemen of verona," the outlaws are presented as living in a cave. the robbers in "gil blas" had their lair also in one. one of the finest and most pathetic of icelandic sagas is the history of grettir the outlaw, who was born in , and killed by his enemies in . he spent nineteen years in outlawry in iceland, and outlawry there in that terrible climate, with no house to cover his head, would seem an ordeal impossible for human endurance. between the autumn of and the spring of , that is to say during two winters, he lived in a cave in the west of the island. a steep shale slide was below a cliff, and above this a hollow in the rock. he built up the mouth of the cave, and hung grey wadmal before the entrance, so that none below could notice anything peculiar, or any one living there. whatever fuel he wanted, all he had to eat, everything he needed, had to be carried up this slippery ascent by him. down the shale slide he went when short of provisions, and over the marshes to this or that farm and demanded or carried off, sometimes a sheep, sometimes curds, dried fish--in a word what he required. in the summer of a very similar lair which grettir inhabited a little later in the east of iceland was explored by a farmer living near. this is his description of it: "the lair stands in the upper part of a slip of stones beneath some sheer rocks. it is built up of stones, straight as a line, four and three-quarter ells long and ten inches wide, and is within the walls seven-eighths of an ell deep. half of it is roofed over with flat stones; small splinters of stone are wedged in between these to fill up the joints, and these are so firmly fixed that they could not be removed without tools. one stone in the south wall is so large that it would require six men to move it. the north wall is beginning to give way. on the outside the walls are overgrown with black lichen and grey moss." a chapman spending the winter in a farm hard by, named gisli the dandy, heard that a price of nine marks of silver was placed on the head of grettir. "let me but catch him," said he, "and i will dress his skin for him." the outlaw heard of this threat, and one day looking down from his rock he saw a man with two attendants riding along the highway. his kirtle was scarlet, and his helmet and shield flashed in the sun. it occurred to grettir that this must be the dandy, and he at once ran down the slide of stones, clapped his hand on a bundle of clothes behind the saddle, and said, "this i am going to take." gisli, for it was he, got off his horse, and called on his men to attack grettir. but the latter soon perceived that the chapman kept behind his servants, and never risked himself where the blows fell; so he put the two thralls aside and went direct upon the merchant, who turned and took to his heels. grettir pursued him, and gisli, in his fear, threw aside his shield, then away went his helmet, and lastly a heavy purse of silver attached to his girdle. presently the flying man came to a bed of old lava full of cracks. he leaped the fissures and reached a river that flowed beyond. there he halted, unable to make up his mind to risk a plunge into it, and that allowed grettir to run in on him and throw him down. "keep my saddle-bags and what i have thrown away," pleaded the fallen man, "only spare my life." "there must be a little skin-dressing done first," answered grettir. then he took a good handful of birch rods from the wood, pulled gisli's clothes up over his head, and laid the twigs against his back in none of the gentlest fashion. gisli danced and skipped about, but grettir had him by his garments twisted about his head, and contrived to flog till the fellow threw himself down on the ground screaming. then grettir let go, and went quietly back to his lair, picking up as he went the purse and the belt, the shield, casque, and whatsoever else gisli had thrown away. also he retained the contents of his saddle-bags. [footnote: "grettir saga," copenh. . "grettir the outlaw," lond. .] at dunterton, on the devon side of the tamar, is a headland of rock and wood projecting above the river, and in this is a cave. in or about there was a man, the terror of the neighbourhood, who lived in this cave, but that he was there was unknown. he was wont to "burgle" the houses of the gentry round, and his favourite method of proceeding was to get on the roof and descend the chimneys, which in those days were wide. in my hall chimney was, till i removed it, an apparatus fitted with sharp spikes upward to impale the burglar should he attempt to get into the house that way. in the house of a neighbouring squire a funnel was made into which he might drop, and from which he could not escape. he was finally discovered by colonel kelly, when drawing the wood with his hounds; as the cave was held to be the den of the ogre, it was looked upon with fear, and was also long the lair of smugglers. perhaps the latest cave-dwelling criminal was carl friedrich masch, who before his execution confessed to having committed twelve murders and to having attempted several more. this man carried on this warfare against society from to , that is to say for eight years, in prussia. his presence in the district was always suspected rather than ascertained, by the numerous cases of arson, burglary, and robbery, as well as by murders and murderous attacks. one of his worst crimes was the butchery of a whole family, a miller, his wife, three children, aged respectively twelve, ten, and five, and a young servant-maid in . in vain were large rewards offered for the capture of masch; if he had confederates they were not bribed to betray him, and the police were powerless to trace him. even soldiers were called out to search the forests, but all in vain, and he was not captured till when he was arrested when tipsy in the street of frankfurt on the oder, and then it was not till some hours later that it was discovered he had but just committed a fresh murder. in march a miller named ebel went into the pyritz forest near soldin, along with his servant-man to fetch away firewood he had purchased. after having laden his wagon he sent it home under the conduct of his man, and remained behind among the trees. he looked about among the bushes to find a suitable branch that he could cut to serve as a walking-stick. whilst thus engaged he came on some rising ground overgrown with young birch, and on the slope of the hill not more than paces from the much-frequented highroad he noticed a spot where the snow was beaten hard, as if it had been the lair of a wild beast. to get a better sight of this, ebel parted the bushes and came closer. then he was aware of a patch of dried leaves uncovered by snow. unable to account for this, he stirred the leaves with his recently cut stick, and to his surprise saw them slide down into the earth as into a funnel. more puzzled than ever he began to examine the locality, when he noticed that the ground under his feet sounded hollow, and that there was hard by a second and larger hole. as he stood staring at this, suddenly a cudgel appeared followed by the white face of a man with black hair and beard and dark piercing eyes, rising out of the ground. for a moment ebel stood paralysed with terror, and then, as the man was heaving himself to the surface, he beat a hasty retreat. when he reported what he had seen to the forester and some wood- cutters, he was at first not believed, but he insisted that they should accompany him to the spot. they did so, and this is what they found: a board, covered with earth, but with a hole in the midst, through which a couple of fingers could be thrust so as to bring it from below into position, had been used to cover the entrance to an underground habitation. jumping into a pit, a passage was seen about five feet high, in which a stove had been placed, and the hole the miller had seen, into which the leaves had fallen, was the chimney. further on was a chamber seven feet long by seven feet broad, and five feet high, that had clearly served as a dwelling for some considerable time. it was full of clothing, linen, an axe, a hammer, a bunch of keys, and an assortment of burglar's tools. the roof was supported by posts and transverse beams, and from them hung legs of pork, bacon, and sausages. there was also a cellar well stocked with wine and brandy, and even champagne. a bed was fashioned of birch boughs and fir branches and hay. the boughs protected from the damp of the soil. great quantities of bones of pigs, sheep, geese, and other poultry were found buried in the sides of the passage and about on the surface. the forester reported to the police what he had seen. a good many of the articles found were reclaimed by peasants who had been robbed; but the denizen of the cave-dwelling had vanished, and returned no more. at the same time, attacks on persons and property ceased in that neighbourhood, but began in the neighbourhood of berlin. but in the spring of they were renewed in the district of soldin. the military were ordered to manoeuvre, surround, and traverse the woods, and search every moor. all was in vain, not a trace of the perpetrator of these crimes could be found, and no sooner were the soldiers withdrawn than a taverner and his young wife were discovered in their little inn, with their heads beaten in, and their throats cut, and the man's watch and his money taken. this was followed by the murder of a peasant girl, on the highroad, as she was returning from saying farewell to her lover who had to leave his village for military service. next came the slaughter of the miller and his family. renewed efforts to trace the murderer were made and were equally fruitless. a toll-keeper was fired at in his bed and severely wounded. the would- be assassin had drawn a cart into position, placed boards on it, raised an erection on the boards to support himself so as to be able to take aim at the sleeping man through the window. he could see where he was, as a light burned in the room. he was prevented breaking into the house and murdering the wife and child by the approach of passengers. a farmer was shot at and also badly hurt when returning from market, and only saved from being killed and robbed by his horse taking fright and galloping out of reach. a further hiding-place of masch was discovered by accident, as was the first, in may , in the neighbourhood of warsin. it was more roomy than the first, constructed with more art, was also underground, and contained innumerable objects that had been stolen; amongst others a little library of books that masch could read in the long winter evenings to pass away the time. when after eight years of this sort of life, he was finally arrested, he was brought to confess his crimes. and one portion of his narrative concerned his place of concealment in the winter of - , before he had dug out his subterranean abode at warsin, and after the discovery of his den at pyritz. that was also spent underground, but not in a cave of his construction. i will give the account in his own words. "the winter came on and i had no money and no place of refuge against the cold. it was only when a hard frost set in that i found an asylum in the culvert constructed to carry off the water from the bermling lake. the canal consists of a stone-built tunnel, the entrance to which is closed by closely-set iron stancheons. but accustomed as i was, like a cat, to contract and wriggle through narrow spaces, i succeeded in forcing my way in and i formed my lair on the solid ice. before a fall of snow i provided myself with food, wine, brandy, clothing, and bedding, but i was constrained to spend many weeks in my hiding-place lest i should betray it by my footprints in the snow. my abode there was terribly irksome, for the culvert was not lofty enough to allow one to stand upright in it, and i was constrained to wriggle about in it, crawling or thrusting myself along with hands and feet. i had indeed covered my legs with leather wound about them, but my limbs became stiff. sitting on the ice was almost as uncomfortable as lying on it. an upright position when seated became unendurable with my legs stretched out straight before me. accordingly i hacked a hole through the ice into the frozen mud, and thrust my legs down into it. but my blood chilled in them, and my legs would have been frozen in, had i not withdrawn them and stretched them out as before, well enveloped. moreover i could not sit with my back leaning against the ice-cold stone walls, and the air in the tunnel was dense and foggy. as soon as the ground was clear of snow i escaped from my horrible prison, and enjoyed myself in the open, but for safety had to retreat to it again. on one occasion i narrowly escaped discovery. the owner of the estate hard by and his son were out one day with their hounds. these latter rushed to the entrance of the culvert and began snuffing about at it. their masters observed this, and made the brutes enter the tunnel. i crouched, my loaded gun in my hand, and peered betwixt the iron bars. if one of the hounds had come near me, i would have shot it. happily the beasts did not venture far in, probably on account of the heavy vapour they had lost the scent. they withdrew, and i remained in my cellar-dwelling till the spring. when the ice melted and the mud became soft, i had to quit my winter quarters. i had suffered so unspeakably that i resolved without more ado to excavate for myself a new habitation underground which in comparison with the culvert seemed a paradise to me." [footnote: _der neue pitaval_, leipzig; neue serie, ii. , pp. - .] masch was executed on th july . a picturesque walk through the woods near wiesbaden on the taunus road leads to the leichtweishöhle, a cave under a mass of fallen rock, in the nerothal. the cave measures feet in length, and at its entrance and exit are now set up portraits of the former occupant of this retreat and his mistress. within, in a side chamber, is the bedroom of the robber, and his bed, that was covered with dry moss. in the midst of the cave is a round, massive stone table, and under its foot is a pit excavated to receive his money and other valuables. the cave, now accessible, is an object of many a pleasant excursion from wiesbaden; over a century ago it was in a dense and pathless forest, the intricacies of which were unknown. henry antony leichtweiss was born in at ohrn, and was the son of a forester in the service of the duke of nassau. he was put apprentice to a man who was at once a baker and a besom-maker, and he learned both professions with readiness. being a well-built, handsome youth, he managed to get engaged as courier in a noble family, and in the situation made many journeys and learned to know the world, and also to lay by some money. in september he married the daughter of the magistrate (schultheiss) of dotzheim, and he obtained appointment under him as scrivener. by his wife he had seven children. on the death of his father-in-law, and the appointment of a new magistrate, the aspect of his affairs changed. he was detected in attempts to appropriate trust-money to his own use, and was dismissed his office. he sank deeper and deeper, and was arrested and imprisoned at last for theft. on leaving wiesbaden, where he had been confined, he returned to dotzheim, but there no one would have anything to say to him, and his own wife refused to receive him into her house. leichtweiss now gave himself up to a vagabond life, and as he had of old been associated with the chase, he turned to poaching as a resource. the wide stretch of forests of the taunus, well stocked with game, and the proximity to such markets as frankfort and mainz, offered him a prospect of doing a good business in this line. he managed to induce a wench to associate herself with him, and he dug out a cave of which the description has already been given, in which he made his headquarters, and where he lived and carried on his depredations unmolested for seven years. the spot was so secret and the confusion of rocks there was so great, that he trusted never to be discovered. the main danger lay in smoke betraying him when his fire was lighted, or of his track bring followed in the snow during the winter. but, as already said, for seven years he remained undiscovered, although the keepers of the duke were well aware that the game in the forests was being shot down and disposed of in the town, and although villagers declared that he had stayed and robbed them. these allegations were, however, never proved. when he was at last captured, he was tried and sentenced to be placed in the stocks at wiesbaden in the market. two days after he hung himself in prison. in the chapter on souterrains i have spoken of the adersbach and wickelsdorf rock labyrinths, without mentioning that they have served as a haunt for robbers. i will now deal with them from this point of view. take a piece of veined marble, and suppose all the white veins of felspar washed clear, leaving the block cleft in every direction from top to bottom, and all the cleavages converging to one point and through that one point only, on the wickelsdorf side, is access to be had to the labyrinth. but then conceive of the block thus fissured towering three hundred feet or more sheer up, and having narrow rifts as the passages by which the interior may be penetrated. in the eleventh century sixty knights of the army of boleslas iii., when the latter was driven back by the emperor henry ii., took refuge in the neighbourhood of trauterau, and built there a castle, and subsisted on robbery. the captain was a pole named nislaf. as they prospered and multiplied, nislaf divided his company, and placed one portion under hans breslauer, who said to his men, "we have a treasure-house in these rocks, only unhappily it is empty. we must pillage the merchants and travellers, and fill it." nislaf's party fell out with one another, and one, named alt, led off the discontented and built a fortress, the remains of which may be traced at the highest point above the adersbach labyrinth. one day the crowing of a cock betrayed where nislaf had his abode, and troops were sent from prague to clear the country. most of the bandits were captured and executed. in the early part of the nineteenth century a notorious ruffian at the head of a gang lurked in this neighbourhood. his name was babinsky. one evening, in the autumn of , a carriage drew up at the outskirts of the dobrusch forest. a couple of ladies descended from it at the door of a tavern, and asked the jewish landlady if they could be accommodated with supper and a bed. "we are afraid to proceed," said one of the ladies, "for fear of babinsky." "babinsky," answered the hostess, "has never shown his face here." the ladies were shown into a plain apartment, but were made uneasy by seeing a number of ferocious looking men in the passage and bar. "who are these?" asked the lady. "only packmen," replied the landlady. after supper the two ladies were shown into a large bedroom in which at one side was an old-fashioned wardrobe. when left alone they examined this article of furniture, and perceived an unpleasant odour issuing from it. by some means or other they succeeded in forcing open the door, when they perceived that at the bottom of the wardrobe was a trap-door. this they raised, and to their dismay discovered a well or vault, out of which the unpleasant odour issued. they now set fire to some newspaper, and threw it down the hole, and to their unspeakable horror saw by the flames a half-naked corpse. the ladies closed the trap and considered. it was clear that they were in a murderous den, probably controlled by babinsky. the youngest lady, who had most presence of mind and courage, descended the stairs, opened the guest-room, and said to her coachman, "hans, it is now half-past nine. this is the hour at which captain feldegg, my brother-in-law, promised to start at the head of a military escort to conduct us through the forest. we will leave as soon as you can harness the horses to save him the trouble of coming on so far as this." hans finished his glass of wine and rose. the men in the guest-room looked at one another. before half-an-hour had elapsed the carriage rolled away, and next morning the police were communicated with. it need hardly be said the ladies met with no escort. a few days later a middle-aged, ragged fellow, with a grinding organ, arrived at the inn, and called for a glass. in the guest-room were the "packmen," and some equally wild-looking girls. the grinding organ was put in requisition, and to its strains they danced till past midnight, when babinsky himself entered and the dancing ceased. the organ-grinder had so ingratiated himself into the favour of the robbers, that they resolved on retaining him as the musician of the band. he was conveyed across country till they reached some such a rocky retreat as that of wickelsdorf or adersbach, and there spent three weeks, only allowed to accompany the band when they were going to have a frolic. on these occasions they betook themselves to the resort agreed on, by twos and threes. one day as some of them passed along a road, they saw a blind beggar in the hedge, asking for alms. some cast him coppers, and the organ-grinder slipped into his hand a kreutzer, wrapped in a bit of paper. that night the tavern was surrounded by the military, and the whole gang, along with babinsky, was captured. this was on th october . the organ-grinder was the prague detective hoche. the trial dragged on for several years; some of the robbers were executed, some sentenced to ten, others to twenty years of imprisonment. no evidence was produced that actually convicted babinsky of having committed, or been privy to the murders, and he was sentenced to penal servitude for life. i was rambling in bohemia and tracing the riesen gebirge in . on reaching home i read what follows from the vienna correspondent of the _standard_. "at the little market town of leitomischl in bohemia," at the foot of the continuation of the giant mountains i had been exploring, "an innkeeper and his wife and son have just been arrested by the police on a charge of having, during the last twenty-five years, murdered no fewer than eleven persons. the victims were all travellers who had put up for a night at his house, and who had shown that they were in possession of ready cash. for a considerable time the suspicions of the police had been aroused by the sudden disappearance of various visitors staying at this inn. among the latest cases was a cattle dealer who, after visiting the market, was returning home with the proceeds of the sale of a herd of cattle, and a young baron who had won a large sum in a public lottery. after putting up at the inn in question, these men, like others before them, were never heard of again. the very last case was that of the sudden disappearance of a lady, who was undoubtedly murdered and robbed by the arrested persons." i did in fact find the inns in bohemia, in certain places infested, but not with bandits and cut-throats. chapter xii rock sepulchres a noteworthy distinction exists between the countless rock-tombs in palestine and those equally countless in egypt. in the former there has not been found a single inscription to record the name of the occupant, whereas among the latter not one was unnamed. the reason probably was that the jew had no expectation of existing in a state after death, and those of his family he put away in their holes in the rocks had ceased to be to him anything more than a recollection. all his hopes, his ambition, were limited to this life and to the glorification of his nation. the highest blessing he could personally reckon on was that his days might be long in the land which the lord his god would give him. the horizon of the egyptian, on the other hand, was full of anticipation of a life of the spirit when parted from the body. "instead of the acres of inscriptions which cover the tombs of egypt," says dean stanley, "not a single letter has been found in any ancient sepulchre of palestine." when the israelites escaped from the iron furnace of egypt, they carried with them so intense an abhorrence of all that savoured of misraim that they put away from them polytheism and repudiated idolatry; they swept away as well the doctrine of life after death, such as dominated the egyptian mind, that they might focus all their desires on this present life. "let me bury my dead out of my sight," expressed the feeling of the israelite before and after the exodus. the patriarchs had no conception of the resurrection of the body. the idea was unknown to them. their faith did not even embrace a belief in the immortality of the soul. a passage in job (xix. - ) has been adduced to prove the contrary, but it does so only because it is a mistranslation, and was manipulated by the translators according to their own preconceptions. even the word rendered redeemer has no such signification, it means "the avenger of blood." it was probably through contact with other nations that had a wider hope, that slowly and haltingly the conception of a prolonged existence after death made its way among the jews. christianity invested the body with a sacredness undreamt of under the old covenant, and gave assurance, not of a continued existence after death alone, but of a resuscitation of the body. "if in this life only we have hope in christ, we are of all men most miserable." "as in adam all die, even so in christ shall all be made alive." the jews entertained a strong aversion towards incineration, because the latter was a pagan usage, and they gloried in their singularity. in rome they had their catacombs hewn out of the rock, and the christians followed their example. a short time before the christian era, judea had been made tributary to rome by the victories of pompey, and many thousands of jews were transferred to rome, where a particular district was assigned to them on the right bank of the tiber. we know how tenaciously jews clung to their religion and to their traditional practices, and they sought to lay their departed members in rocky sepulchres, such as those of their distant country. and, in fact, outside the porta portese, the gate nearest to their quarter of the town, a jewish catacomb exists, discovered in , excavated in monte verde, that contains the tombs of the hebrews. from this all emblems exclusively christian are absent. there are representations of the ark of the covenant, of the seven- branched candlestick. the lamps also were impressed with the same symbols; and in a fragment of a greek inscription is traced the word "synagogue." the catacombs of the christians resembled those of the jews in every other particular. three different kinds of stone compose the basis of the roman campagna; the _tufa litoide_, as hard and durable as granite, used extensively for building purposes; the _tufa granolare_, which is consistent enough to retain the form given to it by excavators, but it is useless as building material, and lastly the _pozzuolana_, largely employed in the making of roman cement. neither the _arenaria_ or sand quarries, nor those for the building stone were ever employed for excavation to make catacombs, whereas the _granular tufa_ has been so largely excavated for this purpose that if the galleries were continued in one line, it has been reckoned that they would stretch the entire length of the italian peninsula. they form a labyrinth of passages and cross-passages, and are moreover in several stages called _piani_. but they do not extend far from the eternal city, not beyond the third milestone. the galleries have a breadth of from two to four feet, and their height is governed by the nature of the rock in which they are hewn. the walls on both sides are lined with graves dug out of the rock, in a horizontal position, one above the other, like bunks in a cabin. in each of these reposed one or more bodies. here and there the sequence is broken by a cross-passage that leads to a small chamber, and in these chambers the sides, like those of the galleries, are perforated with graves. all these graves were originally closed by slabs of marble or tiles. this is about the only distinction between the graves of the rich and those of the poor, of the slave from his master. those who desired to set some mark on the resting-place of a relative, to distinguish it from those around, either had the name engraved upon the slab, or rudely scratched with the sharp end of a trowel in the mortar by which the slab was secured, or else a bit of ornamented glass or a ring or coin was impressed in the mortar while it was still wet. the martyrs in many cases were accorded a more elaborate grave. they were laid in a sarcophagus in an _arcossolium_, and on the covering slab the holy mysteries were celebrated on the anniversary of their martyrdom. but sometimes a wealthy family had its own chamber, _cubiculum_, reserved for its members. the puticoli, of which mention has already been made as ash and refuse pits, were of a totally different description. they were funnel-shaped shafts sunk in the rocks, the narrow orifice being on the level of the ground. into this were precipitated the carcases of slaves and of the poor. indeed, they are still in use at naples, when a cart with a lantern may be followed till it reaches the place of interment, where a hole gapes. the corpse that is enveloped in a shroud only, is shot down into the hole, without its winding sheet, that is reserved for further use. but to return to the catacombs. there are not only over thirteen in the neighbourhood of rome, but they are found also at otricoli, soriano, spoleto, vindena, chiusi, lucca, castellamare, prata by avellino, aquila, puzzuoli, baiæ, nola, canesa, tropea, manfredonia, venisa--this last perhaps jewish. there are five sets of them at naples. others in malta. in spain at ancona, siviglia, and elvira. in france is the hypogee opening out of the early church of s. victor at marseilles. in germany is one at trèves. in hungary at fünfkirchen. one in the greek island of melos, at alexandria also, and at cyrene. one at salamis in cyprus. the catacombs of syracuse are like those of rome, of vast extent. they have lofty vaults very superior to the narrow gangways of the cemeteries of rome. a broad gallery runs athwart the whole labyrinth, and from this branch out innumerable passages. one large circular hall is lighted from above. along the sides are niches that served as sepulchres. paintings as at rome decorate the walls and vaults, all of an early christian character, representing men and women in the attitude of prayer, the peacock, and the sacred monogram. numerous inscriptions from the tombs are collected in the museum of syracuse. the catacombs of paris are not of ancient date as catacombs. they were originally, like those of syracuse, quarries for the construction of the _calcaire grossier_ for building the city, down to the seventeenth century. they extend under the communes of vauregard, montrouge, and gentilly on the left bank of the seine, and it is said that a tenth part of paris is thus undermined. in , and again in , accidents occurred through the giving way of the crowns of the caverns, bringing down with them the houses built above. in the boulevard neuf a building near the barrière d'enfer suddenly sank into a hole feet deep, and this drew public attention to the danger. until the end of the reign of louis xvi the principal burying-ground of paris had been the cemetery of the innocents. originally situated beyond the walls of the town, it had in due course been so surrounded by the growing metropolis as to render it impossible to continue its use as a cemetery, and in the practice of burying therein was discontinued, the accumulated bones of parisians were removed thence with great precaution, on account of the insalubrity of the operation, and they were deposited in the old quarries, and the catacombs were solemnly consecrated for their reception by the archbishop of paris on th april . a public market-place was then established on the site of the former cemetery. to protect the town from settling down into this necropolis, vast sums were expended in substructures, so as to remove all danger of future collapse. gradually many other cemeteries that had been encroached upon, or surrounded, were required to yield up their dead, so that it was estimated that the catacomb contained the remains of three million persons. the bodies of some victims of the revolution were placed here as well. for many years the bones remained as they were thrown down on their removal, in heaps, but after they were gradually arranged in a fantastic manner, and turned into an exhibition for the curious. sixty- three staircases lead from the different parts of the town into the catacombs, and are used by workmen and agents appointed to take care of the necropolis. twice in the year tours of inspection are made by the surveyors, but visitors are no longer allowed access to the catacomb. there have occurred cases of men having been lost in the intricate labyrinth. the crypts in which were laid the bodies of saints gave occasion to kings, princes, and great men employing like mausoleums. the poor and mean might lie in the earth, but men of consequence must have vaults in which the members of their families might be laid. what hideous profanation of sepulchres would have been spared had the kings of france been laid in the earth! they elected to repose in the crypt of the splendid minster of s. denis. when the revolution broke out, the convention resolved that the tombs should be destroyed in accordance with the motion of barrère, st july , "la main puissante de la république doit éffacer impitoyablement ces épitaphes superbes, et demolir ces mausolées qui rappeleraient des rois l'effrayant souvenir;" and "of the coffins of our old tyrants let us make bullets to hurl at our enemies." the decree for the destruction was sacrilegiously executed; the coffins were opened--henri ii. and his queen in their robes, henri iv. in a perfect state of preservation, louis xiv. still recognisable. the body of turenne, with the fatal bullet visible in it, was preserved as a peep-show. the rest were thrown into "fosses communes" dug in the neighbourhood. by a singular coincidence, the work of desecration was begun on th october , the anniversary of the day on which, one hundred years before, louis xiv. had caused the demolition of the tombs of the german emperors at spires. not only so, but the agent employed by the convention was hentz, a namesake of the superintendent of the work of destruction carried out at spires. and thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges--louis xi. escaped. he had been buried in a crypt at cléry, and had been forgotten. in the abbé saget, curé of cléry, opened the vault and found the body intact. louis xi. had this sepulchre made for himself during his lifetime. now the visitor can take in his hand the head, and muse over it on the treachery, cunning, and cruelty that once lodged in that little brain-pan. scott may have been incorrect in his history in "quentin durward," but he was accurate in his characterisation of the king. the instinct of immortality is implanted in the human breast. the reverential care with which primeval man treated his dead, showed a confusion of ideas between soul and body. his senses told him, and told men in the historic period, that the body dissolved to dust, yet as a temple of the spirit it was treated with respect. the soul to the egyptians was in some manner always related to the body. the "ka" must have something to which to return, if not to the mummy, then to its model. the dead in the first ages were given the caves in which they had lived, but they began to press out the living, to monopolise all caves, and afterwards artificial dwellings were reared to receive them, stone structures, dolmens, that were heaped over with earth, to make them resemble their former subterranean habitations. sometimes these structural caves consist of a series of chambers connected by a passage, the so-called _allées couvertes_ of france, but of which we have fine examples in scotland and ireland. where huge slabs of granite, limestone, or sandstone were not available, the living scooped out underground cemeteries, closely resembling their own underground dwellings. in the petit morin are many of these that have been explored and described by the baron de baye. i have already spoken of the habitable caves there found. but there were sepulchral chambers excavated in the chalk as well. these differ from the others in that the entrances are blocked by a large slab, and in some instances have sculptured figures in them of the goddess of death, or of a stone hammer. the norsemen buried their sea-kings in the ships in which they had sailed on their piratical expeditions. king ring, when he slew harold hilditön, buried him in his chariot and with his horses. in gaulish tombs such chariots have been found. the scandinavians seem to have had but a confused idea of what death was; the dead were but in a condition of suspended animation. hervör went to the isle of samsey where, under a huge cairn, lay her father angantyr and his eleven brothers who had fallen in single combat. angantyr had been buried along with his sword tyrfing. when she reached the grave mound she sang:-- "wake thou up, angantyr! wakens thee hervör thy only daughter. give from the grave mound freely thy good sword. "wake thou up hervard! wake thou, hjorvard! hrani, angantyr! shake off your slumbers under the tree-roots." from his grave angantyr replies:-- "hervör, my daughter, wherefore disturb me? full of temerity madly thou seekest dead men to waken." but she persists. she will have the sword. whereupon the cairn gapes, and she sees fire therein, and from out of the mound and flame the sword is hurled forth and falls at her feet. [footnote: "hervarar saga," copenh. .] grettir the strong broke into the tomb of karr the old, an ancient viking, to obtain his sword, and had to wrestle with the dead man before he could wrench it from him. [footnote: "grettir saga," copenh. , chap. xviii.] i will quote another case of cairn-breaking that exhibits the same conception of suspended life in the grave, and that in christian times. i shall slightly condense the story. "gest started breaking into the mound in the day. at evening, with the help of the priest, he had got down to make a hole in the vault, but next morning it was all closed up again." to obviate this the priest watched all night by the cairn furnished with holy water. next morning when gest returned, the mound was as he had left it, and the two continued their operations. gest was let down into the cavity, and the priest and other men held the rope. it was fifty fathoms down to the floor. gest had a candle in his hand, and he now lighted it and looked about him. he saw a big ship with five hundred men in it, and they were all preparing to start up, but as the light of the (consecrated) candle fell on them none stirred, but they stared blankly and snorted. gest smote at them to cut off their heads, but it was as though his sword passed through water. he cleared the dragon-ship of all its valuables and sent them up by the rope. then he searched for raknar (the seaking whose tomb it was). he found a descent still further underground, and there he discovered raknar seated on a throne. he was frightful to look upon, and the vault was both cold and stinking. a cauldron was under his feet full of treasure, and he had a torque about his neck, very resplendent, and a gold ring on his arm. he was in breastplate and helmet, and had a sword in his hand. gest went up to raknar and saluted him courteously in a song, and raknar bowed in acknowledgment. gest said to him: "i cannot commend your appearance at present though i can praise your achievements. i have come a long way in quest of you, and i am not going away unrewarded for my trouble. give me some of what you have, and i will sing your renown far and wide." raknar bowed his head to him, and allowed him to remove his helmet and breastplate. but when gest attempted to deprive him of his sword, raknar sprang up and attacked gest. he found him neither old nor stiff. and now the consecrated candle went out. raknar became so strong that gest could hardly bear up against him; and all the men in the ship now rose up. then gest invoked his father bard who appeared, but availed naught, then he called upon him who had created heaven and earth, and vowed to accept the faith which king olaf was preaching. thereupon olaf appeared in a blaze of light, and raknar collapsed, with all his men. his power was gone from him. whereupon gest cut off his head and laid it at his thigh. at the apparition of king olaf all the dead men who had stood up reseated themselves on their benches. after that gest removed all the treasures out of the tomb. [footnote: "bartða saga," copenh. , chap. xx.] the cairn of the outlaw gunnar was seen open occasionally. "sharphedin and hogni were out of doors one evening by gunnar's cairn on the south side. the moon and stars were shining clear and bright, but every now and then the clouds drove over them. then all at once they thought they saw the cairn standing open, and lo! gunnar had turned himself in the grave-mound and was looking at the moon. they thought they saw four lights burning within, and none of them threw a shadow. they saw gunnar, that he was merry, and wore a right joyful face. he sang a song, and that so loud it might have been heard though they had been further off." the song of the dead man is given, and then it is added: "after that the cairn was shut up again." [footnote: "nials saga," chap. lxxix., trans, by dasent, edin. , chap. lxxvii.] helgi hundingsbane was visited in his grave-mound by his wife sigrun, who spent a night there with him. he informed her that all her tears fell on and moistened him. "here helgi have i prepared for thee in thy mound a peaceful bed. on thy breast, chieftain, i will repose as i was wont in thy lifetime." to which the dead helgi replies: "nothing is to be regarded as unexpected, since thou, living, a king's daughter, sleepest in a grave-mound, in the arms of a corpse." next morning sigrun departs. [footnote: "helgi kv. hundingsbana," ii. - .] saxo grammaticus tells us a grimly tale. asmund and asvid, brothers in arms, had vowed not to be separated in death. it fell out that asvid died, and was buried along with his horse and dog in a cairn. and asmund, because of his oath of friendship, had courage to be buried with him, food being put in for him to eat. now just at this time, eric (king of sweden) happened to pass nigh the barrow of asvid, and the swedes thinking it might contain treasure, broke into it with mattocks, and saw disclosed a cave deeper than they had anticipated. to explore this, a youth, chosen by lot, was let down in a basket. but asmund, when he saw the boy descend, cast him out, and got into it himself. then he gave the signal to draw up. those above drew in the basket, thinking by the weight that it contained much treasure. but when they saw the unknown figure of a man emerge, scared by his strange appearance, and thinking that the dead had come to life again, they flung down the rope and fled. for asmund looked ghastly, covered with the corruption of the charnel-house. he tried to recall them, and assured them that they were needlessly alarmed. and when eric saw him, he marvelled at the aspect of his bloody face, the blood flowing freely and spurting out. then asmund told his story. he had been buried with his friend asvid, but asvid came to life again every night, and being ravenously hungry, fell on and devoured his horse. that eaten, he had treated his dog in the same manner, and having consumed that he turned on his friend, and with his sharp nails tore his cheek and ripped off one of his ears. asmund, who had no ambition to be eaten, made a desperate resistance, and finally succeeded in driving a stake through the body of the vampire. out of delicacy due to old friendship, asmund did not have recourse to the usual means of quelling the posthumous vivacity and vitality of a corpse, which was to cut off the head and make the dead man sit on it. [footnote: "saxo gramm.," v., chap, clxii- iii.] the notion of suspended animation after death by no means expired with paganism. when severus, bishop of ravenna, was about to die, he went in full pontificals to the tomb of his wife and daughter, had the stone removed, and bade the dead ones make room for him between them, and they obeyed. when s. meven died, and his faithful friend austell followed him shortly after, the dead body moved on one side in the sarcophagus to accommodate his companion. when an irreverent man struck the coffin of s. cadoc with a staff, the incensed saint "roared like a bull." in the life of s. germanus of auxerre is a curious episode. a pagan named mamertinus being overtaken by night and a storm, took refuge in a solitary building in which was a sarcophagus. he put his knapsack under his head on the upper slab of the tomb, and lying down there went to sleep. at midnight he was roused by a young man at the door of the cell, who called out, "corcodemus, corcodemus, levite of christ, arise!" whereupon a voice answered from the tomb, "what do you want?" the youth replied, "bishop perigrinus and bishop amator want you at the church, where they are holding vigil." "i can't go," replied the dead man, "i have a visitor here and i must show him hospitality." after an interval the young man returned with two others and again summoned corcodemus, who now got out of his grave and said to one of those who was at the door, "i will go with you, but you must abide here and protect my visitor, for there is a bitch with her young, to the number of seven, ready to tear him to pieces." so late as a book appeared, _de miraculis mortuorum_, by l. c. f. garmann, published at leipzig, opposing opinions not merely of the ignorant but of the learned as to a kind of prolongation of physical life in the dead--their issuing from the graves to suck the blood of the living, their continuing their wonted avocations underground, as a shoemaker being heard cobbling in his coffin, of infants shedding their milk teeth and growing second teeth, of gnawing their grave clothes, and many other horrible superstitions--showing how persistent the belief was that the dead did continue to live in their sepulchres. [footnote: the confusion between the ghost and the corpse is exemplified in "hamlet." "tell why thy canoniz'd bones, hearsed in death, have burst their cerements; why the sepulchre, wherein we saw thee quietly inurn'd, hath op'd his ponderous and marble jaws to cast thee up again." act i. sc. .] the idea that by symbolic burial a man became regenerate, that he put off the old condition and entered into another that was new, by passing through the earth or a hole in the rocks, was very general, and it has continued to the present day in the modified form of enabling a sufferer by this means to leave behind his infirmities and pass into a condition of robust health, or of one charged with a crime clearing himself by this ordeal. the passing of a child through the earth was forbidden by the canons of edgar (a.d. ). [footnote: thorpe, "ancient laws and institutes," lond. .] women who had crying children dug a hole in the earth and thrust the child through, drawing it out at a further hole. men were forbidden also to pass cattle through a hollow tree or _per terram foratam transire_. in france weak children were passed through a hollow stone of s. tessé. in the crypt of ripon minster is a hole in the rock through which young women crept to establish their innocence when charged with incontinence. in iceland a long turf was cut attached to the soil at both ends, and such as would pass out of a condition of hostility into one of brotherhood crawled through the gap. at ilefeld, in the harz, is a holed stone called the nadelöhr. any one coming to settle in the harz for the first time is required to creep twice through the perforation. in a good many places in germany a similar process is gone through to cure lumbago. indra, the god of thunder among the hindoos, drew a sick man thrice through a hole, and thereby gave him health and new birth. the many helfensteins that are found in germany were in like manner stones of help, by traversing which the old man was put off and the new man put on. [footnote: sepp, _altbayerischer sagenschatz_, munich, , p. _et seq_.] creeping through a holed stone, or under one suspended over another, is still practised in ireland as a cure for disorders. from passing under the earth the custom passed to going through a split tree, the tree representing the coffin. an interesting account of this usage will be found in white's "selborne." and now let us turn to something else. a religion of the worship of ancestors formed the ground-work of many religions that in process of time have totally changed their character. it lies at the root of the creeds and practices of most peoples in east and west. it was in greece before its religion passed into the stage of the deification of natural forces. the assyrians and chaldeans clung to it in western asia. the egyptians in the valley of the nile, the etruscans in italy. at the other extremity of the world, the chinese and anamites perform its rites to this day from saghalien to cambodia. but in western asia and in europe the primitive religion became modified little by little. on the borders of the tigris and the euphrates, as well as on the banks of the nile, appeared the beginnings of a different eschatology and a vague expectation of a resurrection of the dead. the hellenes and romans, under the influence of philosophy, acquired another conception of immortality, and their institutions, issuing from collectivism, broke up into individualism. in the extreme east, on the other hand, the ancient beliefs and institutions remained stationary, and buddhism was unable materially to disturb them. it introduced its doctrine of metampsichosis, its nirvana, and its hell; but these notions did not modify, they got mixed up with the old conceptions in a jumble of heterogeneous and contradictory beliefs. to the present day the family remains the unit in the state; it is under the patriarchal despotism of the head of the line, the priest of the domestic hearth, the proprietor for the time being of the family estate. every household has its particular gods and protectors--the ancestors thus sublimated, and the master of the family, the prospective god. the condition beyond the grave in no way depends on conduct during life, it is determined by the descendants. if the defunct be honoured, enriched with sacrifices, he becomes a beneficent protector and is happy; neglected and abandoned, he avenges his unfortunate condition on his forgetful posterity. to transmit the family cult and the patrimonial field to an heir is the first duty of man. we inherit unconsciously, not the physical character of our ancestors only, but also their ideas and prejudices. our practices are often dictated by custom of very ancient date, not at all by reason or by conviction. expense and trouble are incurred to convey a corpse from one end of europe to england, that it may repose in the family vault. we decorate our graves with flowers as though the dead appreciated them; they are but the representatives of the ancient sacrifice to the dead. we drink to the memory of the deceased as though pouring out libations to them. our tombstones are direct descendants of the menhir and the obelisk, our altar-tombs of the dolmen, our family vault of the primeval cave ossuary. but in one point we have diverged very far from the path of old beliefs. we have lost touch with the invisible world; we put our dead out of sight and remember them no more, as though no part of the community to which we belong, nor links in a chain of which every link is living. it was one of the sayings of swedenborg, that the aryan west had something to learn from the turanian east. it is so--the reverend thought of the dead as still forming a part of the organism of the family. with the revolt at the reformation at the trade made out of the feelings of the bereaved, the coining of their tears into cash to line the pockets of the priests, came an unwarranted oblivion of the dead, a dissociation from them. the thought that the departed had still a claim on our sympathy and on our prayers was banished as smacking of the discarded abuse. prayer for the dying was legitimate and obligatory at ten minutes to three, but prohibited at five minutes to three when the breath had passed away. we have gone too far in this direction. we live in an immaterial as well as in a material world. we are planted at the overlap of two spheres, that which is spiritual and that which is physical, and we gravitate so sensibly and so rapidly to the latter as to lose touch with the former, and finally to disbelieve in the existence of such a sphere. the earth can radiate its heat, and receive and be steeped in the falling dew only when the sky is not overcast; but our heavens are so thick with clouds that our spirits can exhale no warmth into the infinite, nor drink in any balm descending from the unseen. it is only by detachment from the routine of vulgar life that we can enter into any relation with the spiritual world. political interests, social obligations, financial concerns, choke the spiracles of our inner being, and we lose all concern about what is supersensible, and hold no communication with it. there are stars and planets overhead, orion with his spangled belt, cassiopeia in her glittering chair, and pleiades in their web of silver, but we cannot see them because of the fog that envelops us. according to an indian legend, the first men were bred like maggots in the heart of the earth, but laying hold of some depending fibres drew themselves up into the light of day. we reverse the order, and from the bright spiritual sphere crawl underground by the thousand tendrils of daily life. the early methodists and the quakers broke away from the low material conception of life common in their day, and asserted the reality of the spiritual world, and the duty of living for it, as also the certainty of holding intercommunion with the spirits. the 'other worldliness' of the mediaeval monastic mysticism had produced a revolt against a conception of life that was false, its passive hostility to civilisation, the hollowness of its ideal existence, its exaggerated asceticism, its disparagement of the family life, and the result was the swing of the pendulum in the opposite direction. the recoil came with the methodists. but we cannot live wholly in the world of spirit, any more than we ought to live wholly in the world of matter, for our nature is double, and no portion of it should be atrophied. extreme mysticism is as falsifying of our nature as is extreme worldliness. the stupidity and charlatanism of modern spiritualism is the rebellion of men and women against the materialism of present conception of life. where natural expression of a need is checked, it breaks out in a disordered form, just as arrested perspiration and circulation of the blood produce fever. if all recognition of supersensible existence be denied, the assertion that it does, has its place, and makes its demands on us, will call forth, if not a wholesome, then a diseased expression. we are intended to rise at times and breathe the atmosphere above us, and then to descend again to the lower region. it is only the dab and the common plaice that are content to lie ever on the bottom, and they are but one-sided fish. they see with one eye only, the other has been absorbed and become dead. every creature has in it a promise of something better than what it is. the slow-worm has rudimentary legs, but they are never developed; the oyster has rudimentary eyes, but they come to nothing. the larva has in it the promise of wings, and it grows into a butterfly or dies a grub. the soul of man has its wings so battered by its cage and is so enamoured of its groundsel and bit of sugar, that even if the door be left open it will not look forth, certainly not break away. yet there is a world beyond the bars, and a world peopled by happy spirits, and if it cannot at once join them, it can call to them and unite with them in rapturous song. the old turnspit was bred in the kitchen, and its daily task was to run in the revolving drum that helped to roast the meat. its legs became deformed like those of the dachshund. it cared not to romp in the green meadows, to run with the hounds, it waddled about the kitchen floor looking out for the bones and scraps of fat cast to it, as payment for its toil. and that is what we are becoming through unremitting neglect of our spiritual avocation. more than fifty years ago i was walking at night through lanes near dartmoor, and caught up a trudging postman who daily, nightly, measured long distances. i soon found that he was a man who had his spiritual eye open. "do you not feel lonely in these long walks in the dark?" i inquired. "i am never alone," he replied, "the spirits are always with me." "your thoughts," i suggested. "my thoughts are indeed within me, humming in my head. i must go forth to meet the spirits. look here," he went on, "the soul of man is like a fly in a cobweb. it can't spread its wings till it breaks loose, and then it very often carries away some of the threads with it." mr. jacks gives us, in his "human studies," one of a shepherd on the wolds, the counterpart of my postman. there be more of these men than is generally supposed. but he who would deal with this subject would be constrained to say with the knight in the "canterbury pilgrims"-- "i have, god wot, a large field to ere and wayke ben the oxen in the plough." i have broken away from my caves, and have rambled--i know not whither. vive, vale: si quid novisti rectius istis, candidus imperti; si non, his utere mecum. --horace, epist. i. . appendix owing to the great kindness of mr. wm. stevenson, author of "bygone nottinghamshire," i am able to give some additional matter that must be of interest, with which he has supplied me. (p. .) "your account reminds me of a rock excavation of great extent with turns and windings on the old time 'way to the gallows,' in nottingham, where a number of cave-dwellings existed down to a century ago. the last tenant was a sandman who stabled his ass in the cave behind. he passed the greater part of his life in selling sand about the town, carrying it in a sack across the back of his ass. time wore him out, and he had to enter the workhouse. his cave was then explored, and it was found of enormous extent, in two storeys. it is supposed to have been mainly wrought day after day and year after year by this sandman. it is still to be seen, but dangerous to explore. one party of investigators a few years ago carried a string with them as a clue by means of which to find their way out again. there is a story of it becoming a lurking place of robbers after the sandman's day. a number of the excavations under the town are held to have been made or extended by the tenants above, obtaining their supply of sand from below. formerly floors were sanded." (p. .) puticoli. slave pits have been found in south africa. "when the old town hall and town prison at nottingham was demolished a few years ago, and the site was excavated for the advance of the great central railway, seven or more pits were found, one with a rusty chain in it. they were about four feet in diameter at the top, and seven feet at the bottom, with dished floors. they varied from about twelve to eighteen feet in depth. we had no knowledge of anything of the kind in local history. two others were found a distance away that could have had no connection with the prison site." formerly at monte carlo the bodies of suicides were thrust into the holes that riddle the limestone rock and gave it the name of les spelunges. but the conditions became insanitary, and italian workmen were employed to get them out, and carry them away to sea and there sink them. (p. .) "formerly it was the way in which wells were ascended and descended in nottingham, by means of notches cut in the side for the insertion of toes and fingers. i have had to do with the exploration of the base of edward iv.'s tower at nottingham castle, destroyed with gunpowder during the civil war. in one corner of the basement we found a well filled with rubbish. this the workmen cleared out for over fifty feet, and all the way down were notches in the wall, and the men went up and down like monkeys, using no other means for ascending and descending." (p. .) ventholes for smoke were common in nottingham, sneinton, and mansfield. (p. .) souterrains. mr. stevenson writes relative to the pits before the entrance doors of refuges: "some years ago i had a part in exploring the norman keep of scarborough castle, erected early in the reign of henry ii.; we worked under the entrance staircase, and found a pit arched over at a later period and covered with a stone landing, but originally it must have been a pit or well in front of the only entrance door. it was partly cleared out of fallen masonry and rubbish, but not properly explored. overhead was a shoot for stones or molten lead. it would appear that the pit system was abandoned about the close of the middle ages." (p. .) "it is fairly well determined in the 'history of nottingham' that the roman catholics in elizabeth's and james i.'s reign met secretly in the caves in the rock of the town. they were also refuges of the dissenters in the days of charles ii." (p. .) nottingham. "there have been several falls of the rock, both at nottingham itself and at sneinton. mortimer's hole, under the castle, is only one of four that are known to exist, three of which can be traversed, one wholly and two in part; one of these latter is by many regarded as the true historical passage. it started at the meadow level, and was partially closed by a wall; the rock wasted with time, and the thin wall gave way, bringing down a vast amount of rock above, and leaving the cavern in this part an open alley. the cave was then converted into malt offices, which yet remain in the higher and perfect part. the rock-caverns in the park, the old cell of s. mary-le-rocke, formed possibly the parent of lenton priory, just as those at ligugé were the parent of the abbey on the further side of the river. the rock monastery, the 'papists' holes' has long ago lost most of its front by falls of rock and the destruction wrought by the roundheads. a huge artificial pillar has of recent years been erected to prevent further falls. a fall in brought down from to tons, a mass some seven or eight feet thick. on th may in the same year, evidently due to an earth tremor, a like great fall occurred at the rock habitations at sneinton. the inhabitants escaped as by a miracle. a dog barked furiously in the night, and the inhabitants of the cave dwellings rushed forth, fancying that robbers were at work there. in a portion of the town cliff fell, as did also some of that in the park. "the county or sheriff prison for notts and derby was, as far as can be traced back by records, half-way up the over ninety feet cliff of the town of nottingham, and was entered from the king's hall at the top. light holes were made in the face of the rock to the south. in these vaults, now closed, men and women were confined like wild beasts, on straw. the prior and monks were enclosed here in the time of henry viii., and were marched thence to the gallows. the inhabitants of the lower part of the town under the prison complained of the ordure exuding from the prison and trickling down the rock. there are records of marvellous escapes of prisoners, both male and female, down the face of the rock, till comparatively recently. as may well be supposed, gaol-fever raged in these horrible dens. one vault is still shown under the castle. leland and camden both speak of an underground dungeon in which tradition (this time falsely) says that king david of scotland was confined, and on the walls of which with a nail he carved a crucifix. these travellers do not say that they actually saw it; but thomas bailey, in publishing his 'annals of notts,' employed a local artist to depict the scene. after the erection in the seventeenth century of the italian castle, the vault was converted into a wine- cellar. leland says that there had been three chapels in the castle, but he does not say where. "in the town of nottingham are two rock-hewn stairs. the most important is called the 'long stairs,' they begin, cut out of the perpendicular face of the rock, at its highest point, landing opposite the old mother church. the steps are now faced with harder material than the local sandstone. on the side there are houses, and indeed houses on the tops of houses, a tenant at a lower level, another at a higher, each obtaining entry from the stairs. the 'short stairs' are not wrought in the face of the cliff, and have houses on both sides. these are clearly in a prehistoric quarter of the town, where was once a hill-fort." (p. .) ford castles. the ancient ford at retford, notts, was more north than the present, and beside it is a red cliff largely cut into with joist-holes, &c., for floors and roofs, and give indications of former habitations. radford, a name borrowed by the priory, _alias_ worksop, is a hill of red sandstone that dominated the ford. on the hill is an entrenchment. (p. .) mr. stevenson remarks on the holes in the floor at rochebrune; "this is what i should expect to find in a maltery, which must be of two floors, the lower one for steeping and sprouting the corn, and holding the fire-crates, the higher one for drying and storing the malt. the higher floors are now made of perforated tiles, the holes too small for the grains to pass through, but in old times i think the malt was dried in braziers something like large frying-pans. drying rooms for wheat were attached to corn-mills to dry the corn before grinding. in some seasons corn is difficult to dry; perhaps in france they did not make malt, but they may have dried grapes." malt was not made in perigord, i believe; and the indications at rochebrune are strongly those of defence against assailants. grapes would hardly be dried in a cavern, but in the sun, and there is plenty of sun in the south of france. the end games for hallow-e'en by mary f. blain new york games for hallow-e'en hallow-e'en or hallow-even is the last night of october, being the eve or vigil of all-hallow's or all saint's day, and no holiday in all the year is so informal or so marked by fun both for grown-ups as well as children as this one. on this night there should be nothing but laughter, fun and mystery. it is the night when fairies dance, ghosts, witches, devils and mischief-making elves wander around. it is the night when all sorts of charms and spells are invoked for prying into the future by all young folks and sometimes by folks who are not young. in getting up a hallow-e'en party everything should be made as secret as possible, and each guest bound to secrecy concerning the invitations. any of the following forms of invitations might be used. -------------------------------------- witches and choice spirits of darkness will hold high carnival at my house, ..............wednesday, october st, at eight o'clock. come prepared to test your fate. costume, witches, ghosts, etc. -------------------------------------- -------------------------------------- miss ethel jones will expect to see you at her hallow-e'en party wednesday, oct. st, at o'clock. she begs that you will come prepared to participate in the mysteries and rites of all hallow's eve, and to wear a costume appropriate to the occasion. -------------------------------------- -------------------------------------- on wednesday, oct. st, at o'clock, i shall celebrate hallow-e'en and hope that you will come and participate in the mysteries and rites of all hallow's eve, so come prepared to learn your fate. --------------------------------------- the room or rooms in which most of the games are to be played should be decorated as grotesquely as possible with jack-o'-lanterns made from apples, cucumbers, squash, pumpkins, etc., with incisions made for eyes, nose and mouth and a lighted candle placed within. jack-o'-lanterns for the gas jets may be made of paste board boxes about the size of a shoe box. cut holes for eyes, nose and mouth in all four sides of the box and cover the holes with red or green tissue paper. a black box with the openings covered with red tissue paper or vice versa or white and green make good combinations. cut a hole in the bottom of the box just large enough to fit over the gas jet, turning the gas low enough to not burn the box. in addition to this jack-o'-lanterns made from pumpkins, etc., should be placed around on tables, mantles, corners, etc. a skull and cross bones placed over the door entering the house would be very appropriate. the hall should be in total darkness except for the light coming from the jack-o'-lanterns of all shapes and sizes in various places. autumn leaves, green branches, apples, tomatoes and corn should also play an important part in the decorations. black and yellow cheese cloth or crepe paper makes very effective and inexpensive decorations. the dining-room should be decorated with autumn leaves, golden rod, yellow chrysanthemums, strings of cranberries, etc. for a table center piece a large pumpkin could be used with the top cut off and partly filled with water in which a large bunch of yellow chrysanthemums or golden-rod could be placed. bay leaves can be scattered over the table. another idea for a center piece is a large pumpkin jack-o'-lantern, the top cut in large points with small chocolate mice in the notches and scampering down the sides of the pumpkin (held in place by long pins or a little glue) and over the table. place cards representing pumpkins, black cats, witches' hats, witches, brownies, etc., are appropriate. if one is not an artist in water color painting, some of the cards could be cut from colored bristol board or heavy paper. the witches' hats of black or brown paper with a red ribbon band; the cats of black paper showing a back view may have a red or yellow ribbon necktie; the pumpkins of yellow paper with the sections traced in ink or notched a trifle and black thread drawn between the notches. any of these designs could be used for an invitation for a children's party, by writing on the reverse side: "will you please come to my party on wednesday, october st" with the name and address of the little host or hostess, using white ink on black paper. the dining-room should also be in total darkness, except for the light given by the jack-o'-lanterns, until the guests are seated, when they should unmask. the supper could be served in this dim light or the lights turned up and the room made brilliant. after the supper is over and while the guests are still seated a splendid idea would be to extinguish all the lights and to have one or more of the party tell ghost stories. have a large pumpkin on a stand or table from which hang as many ribbons as there are guests. have one end of the ribbon attached to a small card in the pumpkin on which may be a little water color sketch of pumpkin, apples, witch, ghost or other appropriate design together with a number. have red ribbon for the girls and yellow ribbon for the boys, with corresponding numbers. let each guest draw a ribbon from the pumpkin and find their partner by number. another suggestion is to have the hall totally dark with the door ajar and no one in sight to welcome the guests. as they step in they are surprised to be greeted by some one dressed as a ghost who extends his hand which is covered with wet salt. the following games and tests of fate and fortune will furnish entertainment for children small and children of a larger growth. of course, prying into the future with these tests at any other time, they may not prove infallible, but on the eve of all saint's day, when all the elves, the fairies, goblins and hobgoblins are at large playing pranks and teasing and pleasing, why should they not "come true." walnut boats open english walnuts, remove meat, and in each half shell fasten short pieces of differently colored christmas candles, each of which is to be named for a member of party and, after lighting, set afloat in large pan or tub of water. the behavior of these tiny boats reveals future of those for whom they are named. if two glide on together, their owners have a similar destiny; if they glide apart, so will their owners. sometimes candles will huddle together as if talking to one another, while perchance one will be left alone, out in the cold, as it were. again, two will start off and all the rest will closely follow. the one whose candle first goes out is destined to be old bachelor or maid. these nut-shell boats may also be made by pouring melted wax into halves of walnut-shells in which are short strings for wicks. dumb cake each one places handful of wheat flour on sheet of white paper and sprinkles it over with a pinch of salt. some one makes it into dough, being careful not to use spring water. each rolls up a piece of dough, spreads it out thin and flat, and marks initials on it with a new pin. the cakes are placed before fire, and all take seats as far from it as possible. this is done before eleven p.m., and between that time and midnight each one must turn cake once. when clock strikes twelve future wife or husband of one who is to be married first will enter and lay hand on cake marked with name. throughout whole proceeding not a word is spoken. hence the name "dumb cake." (if supper is served before : , "dumb cake" should be reserved for one of the after- supper tests.) hallow-e'en souvenir game suspend apples by means of strings in doorway or from ceiling at proper height to be caught between the teeth. first successful player receives prize. these prizes should be hallow-e'en souvenirs, such as emery cushions of silk representing tomatoes, radishes, apples, pears, pickles; or pen-wipers representing brooms, bats, cats, witches, etc. flour test a bowl is filled tightly with flour. during the process of filling, a wedding ring is inserted vertically in some part of it. the bowl, when full, is inverted upon a dish and withdrawn, leaving the mound of flour on the dish. each guest cuts off with a knife a thin slice which crumbles into dust. the guest who cuts off the slice containing the ring will be married first. lover's test a maid and youth each places a chestnut to roast on fire, side by side. if one hisses and steams, it indicates a fretful temper in owner of chestnut; if both chestnuts equally misbehave it augurs strife. if one or both pop away, it means separation; but if both burn to ashes tranquilly side by side, a long life of undisturbed happiness will be lot of owners. these portentous omens are fitly defined in the following lines: "these glowing nuts are emblems true of what in human life we view; the ill-matched couple fret and fume, and thus in strife themselves consume; or from each other wildly start, and with a noise forever part. but see the happy, happy pair, of genuine love and truth sincere; with mutual fondness while they burn, still to each other kindly turn; and as the vital sparks decay, together gently sink away; till life's fierce trials being past, their mingled ashes rest at last." perplexing hunt in this game the seeker for a prize is guided from place to place by doggerels as the following, and is started on his hunt with this rhyme: "perhaps you'll find it in the air; if not, look underneath your chair." beneath his chair he finds the following: "no, you will not find it here; search the clock and have no fear." under the clock he finds: "you will have to try once more; look behind the parlor door." tied to the door-knob he discovers: "if it's not out in the stable seek beneath the kitchen table." under the kitchen table he finds another note, which reads: "if your quest remains uncertain, you will find it 'neath a curtain." and here his quest is rewarded by finding the prize. apple seeds apple seeds act as charms on hallowe'en. stick one on each eyelid and name one "home" and the other "travel." if seed named travel stays on longer, you will go on a journey before year expires. if "home" clings better, you will remain home. again, take all the apple seeds, place them on back of outspread left hand and with loosely clenched right hand strike palm of left. this will cause some, if not all, of seeds to fall. those left on hand show number of letters you will receive the coming fortnight. should all seeds drop, you must wait patiently for your mail. put twelve apple seeds carefully one side while you cut twelve slips of blank paper exactly alike, and on one side of each write name of friend. turn them all over with blanks uppermost and mix them so that you will not know which is which; then, holding seeds in your left hand; repeat: "one i love, two i love, three i love i say; four i love with all my heart five i cast away. six he loves, seven she loves, eight they both love; nine he comes, ten he tarries, eleven he courts and twelve he marries." stop at each line to place a seed on a paper, and turn slip over to discover name of one you love or cast away. continue matching apple seeds with papers as you count, until all twelve seeds and twelve papers are used. hiding ring, thimble and penny hide ring, thimble and penny in room. to one who finds ring, speedy marriage is assured; thimble denotes life of single blessedness; penny promises wealth. pulling kale all are blindfolded and go out singly or hand-in-hand to garden. groping about they pull up first stalk of kale or head of cabbage. if stalk comes up easily the sweetheart will be easy to win; if the reverse, hard to win. the shape of the stump will hint at figure of prospective wife or husband. its length will suggest age. if much soil clings to it, life-partner will be rich; if not, poor. finally, the stump is carried home and hung over door, first person outside of family who passes under it will bear a name whose initial is same as that of sweetheart. nuts to crack pass pencils and paper to each guest with the following written upon it:-- (a dairy product.) (a vegetable.) (a country.) (a girl's name.) (a structure.) (a name often applied to one of our presidents.) (every ocean has one.) (that which often holds a treasure.) (the names of two boys.) (a letter of the alphabet and an article made of tin.) explain that the above describes ten different nuts, which they are to guess. the nuts described are ( ) butternut; ( ) peanut; ( ) brazil nut; ( ) hazel nut; ( ) walnut; ( ) hickory nut; ( ) beechnut; ( ) chestnut; ( ) filbert; ( ) pecan. a prize may be awarded to the one first having correct answers. raisin race a raisin is strung in middle of thread a yard long, and two persons take each an end of string in mouth; whoever, by chewing string, reaches raisin first has raisin and will be first wedded. "what's my thought like?" the players sit in a circle and one of them asks the others: "what's my thought like?" one player may say: "a monkey"; the second: "a candle"; the third: "a pin"; and so on. when all the company have compared the thought to some object, the first player tells them the thought--perhaps it is "the cat"--and then asks each, in turn, why it is like the object he compared it to. "why is my cat like a monkey?" is asked. the other player might answer: "because it is full of tricks." "why is my cat like a candle?" "because its eyes glow like a candle in the dark." "why is my cat like a pin?" "because its claws scratch like a pin." any one who is unable to explain why the thought resembles the object he mentioned must pay a forfeit. true-lover test two hazel-nuts are thrown into hot coals by maiden, who secretly gives a lover's name to each. if one nut bursts, then that lover is unfaithful; but if it burns with steady glow until it becomes ashes, she knows that her lover is true. sometimes it happens, but not often, that both nuts burn steadily, and then the maiden's heart is sore perplexed. kismet take half as many apples as guests, tie two long strings, one red and one yellow, to each apple. place them in one large or several small baskets or receptacles on a table. the girls choose the red and the boys the yellow strings and at a signal they carefully pull the strings and follow them up until each finds his or her mate holding the string of the opposite color, attached to the same apple. the apples are then to be divided between each couple and the seeds in each half, counted as follows: one--i love thee. two--he (she) loves me. three--wedded we will be. four--he (she) loves me dearly. five--he (she) loves me nearly. six--a friend forever. seven--we must sever. eight--we met too late. nine--why hesitate. ten--he (she) is my chosen mate. threading a needle sit on round bottle laid lengthwise on floor, and try to thread a needle. first to succeed will be first married. snapdragon . the dragon consists of half a pint of ignited brandy or alcohol in a dish. as soon as brandy is aflame, all lights are extinguished, and salt is freely sprinkled in dish, imparting a corpse-like pallor to every face. candied fruits, figs, raisins, sugared almonds, etc., are thrown in, and guests snap for them with their fingers; person securing most prizes from flames will meet his true love within the year. . or, slips of paper on which verses are written are wrapped tightly in tin-foil and placed in dish. brandy is poured on and ignited. the verse each person gets is supposed to tell his fortune. place burning dish in middle of bare table, for drops of burning spirits are often splashed about. pumpkin alphabet carve all the letters of the alphabet on a medium sized pumpkin. put it on a dish and set on a stand or table. each guest in turn is blindfolded and given a hat-pin, then led to pumpkin, where he (she) is expected to stick pin into one of the letters on the pumpkin, thus indicating the initial of future life-partner. dough test take water and meal and make dough. write on slips of paper names of several of opposite sex friends; roll papers into balls of dough and drop them into water. first name to appear will be future husband or wife. water experiment a laughable experiment consists in filling mouth with water and walking around house or block without swallowing or spilling a drop. first person of opposite sex you meet is your fate. a clever hostess will send two unsuspecting lovers by different doors; they are sure to meet, and not unfrequently settle matters then and there. the dreamer if a maid wishes to know whom she is to marry, if a man of wealth, tradesman, or traveler, let her, on all-hallow-e'en, take a walnut, hazelnut, and nutmeg; grate and mix them with butter and sugar into pills, and take when she goes to bed; and then, if her fortune be to marry a rich man, her sleep will be filled with gold dreams; if a tradesman, she will dream of odd noises and tumults; if a traveler, there will be thunder and lightning to disturb her. cellar stairs cellar-stairs' test is where girl boldly goes downstairs backward, holding a mirror, and trying to catch in it the features of him who is to be her mate. around the walnut tree of all hallow-e'en spells and charms associated with nuts, the following is one of the oldest: if a young man or woman goes at midnight on hallow-e'en to a walnut tree and walks around three times, crying out each time, "let him (her) that is to be my true love bring me some walnuts," future wife or husband will be seen in tree gathering nuts. ducking for apples into one tub half filled with water are placed apples to the stems of which are tied bits of paper containing the names of the boys present at the party, while across the room is a similar tub in which the names of the girls are placed. with hands tied behind them the young folks endeavor to extricate the apples with their teeth, and it is alleged that the name appearing upon the slip fastened to the apple is the patronymic of the future helpmeet of the one securing the fruit from the receptacle. game of fate guests take part, seated in a circle. three fates are chosen, one of whom whispers to each person in turn name of his (her) future sweetheart. second fate follows, whispering to each where he (she) will next meet his (her) sweetheart; as, "you will meet on a load of hay," or, "at a picnic," or, "at church," or, "on the river," etc. the third fate reveals the future; as, "you will marry him (her) next christmas," or, "you will be separated many years by a quarrel, but will finally marry," or, "neither of you will ever marry," etc. each guest must remember what is said by the fates; then each in turn repeats aloud what has been told him (her). for example, "my future sweetheart's name is obednego; i shall meet him next wednesday on the moonlight excursion, and we shall be married in a week." candle and apple at one end of stick inches long fasten an apple; at the other end, a short piece of lighted candle. suspend stick from ceiling by stout cord fastened in its middle so that stick will balance horizontally; while stick revolves players try to catch apple with their teeth. a prize may be in center of apple. where dwells my lover? steal out unobserved at midnight; plucking a small lock of hair from your head, cast it to breeze. whatever direction it is blown is believed to be location of future matrimonial partner. "i pluck this lock of hair off my head to tell whence comes the one i shall wed. fly, silken hair, fly all the world around until you reach the spot where my true love is found." combing hair before mirror stand alone before mirror, and by light of candle comb your hair; face of your future partner will appear in glass, peeping over your shoulder. the four saucers place four saucers on table in line. into first put dirt; into second, water; into third, a ring; into fourth, a rag. guests are blindfolded and led around table twice; then told to go alone and put fingers into saucer. if they put into dirt, it means divorce; into water, a trip across ocean; where ring is, to marry; where rag is, never to marry. feather tests to foretell complexion of future mate, select three soft, fluffy feathers. (if none is handy, ask for a pillow and rip open and take out feathers.) on bottom end of each feather fasten a small piece of paper; a drop of paste or mucilage will hold all three in place. write "blonde" on one paper; "brunette," on another, and "medium" on the third. label papers before gluing them on feathers. hold up feather by its top and send it flying with a puff of breath. do same with the other two; the feather landing nearest you denotes complexion of your true love. to make test sure, try three times, not using too much force in blowing feathers, which should land on table, not on floor. bowls one bowl is filled with clear water, another with wine, a third with vinegar, a fourth is empty. all are placed in line on table. each person in turn is blindfolded, turned about three times, and led to table. a hand is put out and prophecy made by bowl touched. water shows happy, peaceful life; wine promises rich, eventful, noble career; vinegar, misery and poverty; an empty bowl is a symbol of bachelor or spinster life. rose test take two roses with long stems. name one for yourself and one for your lover. go to your room without speaking to any one; kneel beside bed; twine stems of roses together, and repeat following lines, gazing intently on lover's rose: "twine, twine, and intertwine, let my love be wholly thine. if his heart be kind and true, deeper grow his rose's hue." if your swain is faithful, color of rose will grow darker. necklace make barrel-hoop into necklace of bread, candies, red peppers and candle-ends, and hang horizontally from ceiling. set hoop whirling and try to grasp its freight with your teeth. accordingly as you like your first bite will you enjoy married life. winnowing corn steal out into barn or garden alone and go three times through motions of throwing corn against the wind. the third time an apparition of future spouse will pass you; in some mysterious manner, also, you may obtain an idea of his (her) employment and station in life. consequences one of the most popular games at a party is certainly "consequences"; it is a very old favorite, but has lost none of its charms with age. the players sit in a circle; each person is provided with a half sheet of notepaper and a pencil, and is asked to write on the top--(i) one or more adjectives, then to fold the paper over, so that what has been written cannot be seen. every player has to pass his or her paper on to the right-hand neighbor, and all have then to write on the top of the paper which has been passed by the left-hand neighbor ( ) "the name of the gentleman"; after having done this the paper must again be folded and passed on as before; this time must be written ( ) one or more adjectives; then ( ) a lady's name; next ( ), where they met; next ( ), what he gave her; next ( ), what he said to her; next ( ), what she said to him; next ( ), the consequence; and lastly ( ), what the world said about it. be careful that every time anything has been written the paper is folded down and passed on to the player on your right. when every one has written what the world says, the papers are collected and one of the company proceeds to read out the various papers, and the result may be somewhat like this:-- ( ) the horrifying and delightful ( ) mr. brown ( ) met the charming ( ) miss phillips ( ) in westminster abbey; ( ) he gave her a flower ( ) and said to her: "how's your mother?" ( ) she said to him: "not for joseph;" ( ) the consequence was they danced the hornpipe, and the world said: ( ) "just what we expected." dry bread dreams mean much on hallow-e'en, but certain ceremonies must be carefully followed in order to insure the spell. before going to sleep for the night have some one bring a small piece of dry bread. no word can be spoken after this; silence must prevail. eat bread slowly, at same time making a wish and thinking the pleasantest thing imaginable. then drop off to sleep, and your dreams will be sweet and peaceful, and your wish will come true, if the charm works. magic stairs walk downstairs backward, holding lighted candle over your head. upon reaching bottom, turn suddenly and before you will stand your wished- for one. acting rhymes for this game, half the players go outside the door, whilst those who stay in the room choose a word of one syllable, which should not be too difficult. for instance, suppose the word chosen be "flat," those who are out of the room are informed that a word has been thought of that rhymes with "cat," and they then have to act, without speaking, all the words they can think of that rhyme with "cat." supposing their first idea be "bat," they come into the room and play an imaginary game of cricket. this not being correct, they would be hissed for their pains, and they must then hurry outside again. they might next try "rat," most of them going into the room on their hands and feet, whilst the others might pretend to be frightened. again they would be hissed. at last the boys go in and fall flat on their faces, while the girls pretend to use flat-irons upon their backs. the loud clapping that follows tells them that they are right at last. they then change places with the audience, who, in turn, become the actors. alphabet game cut alphabet from newspaper and sprinkle on surface of water; letters floating may spell or suggest name of future husband or wife. shadow buff a splendid game, and one specially suitable for a large party. a sheet or white tablecloth is first of all stretched right across the room, and on a table behind it is placed a bright lamp. all the other lights in the room are then extinguished, and one of the players takes a seat upon a low stool midway between the lamp and the sheet. the other players endeavor to disguise themselves as much as possible, by distorting their features, rumpling their hair, wearing wigs, false noses, etc., and pass one by one behind the player seated on the stool. their shadows are thus thrown upon the sheet. the aim of the seated player is to guess the identity of the shadows as they pass before him; and the aim of the others is to endeavor by every means in their power to keep him from recognizing them. as may be imagined, the task of the single player is not an easy one, the distorted shadows being vastly different from the originals as seen before the lights were extinguished. apple seeds name two wet apple seeds and stick them on forehead. first seed to fall indicates that the person for whom seed is named is not a true lover. partners the players divide themselves into ladies and gentlemen, if the ladies predominate some must personate gentlemen, and vice versa. the gentlemen then proceed to choose lady partners. one of the players next undertakes to question the couples. the fun consists of the questions being put to the lady and the gentleman answering for her. "do you like your partner?" the lady is asked, and the gentleman may reply, "yes, i adore him." whatever the reply the lady is forbidden to deny it; if she does, or if she answers for herself, she must pay a forfeit. but retaliation comes, for when all the ladies have been questioned the gentlemen's turn arrives, and the ladies answer for their partners. "what is your favorite occupation?" the question may be, and the lady may answer "dressing dolls," or "making mud pies," or anything ridiculous that occurs to her. apple paring each guest, receiving apple and knife, is requested to peel apple without breaking; then swing paring around head, and let it drop to floor. the letter formed is initial of future mate's name. or, you may hang your paring over door--the first of opposite sex to pass under will be your mate. the farmyard this game, if carried out properly, will cause great amusement. one of the party announces that he will whisper to each person the name of some animal, which, at a given signal, must be imitated as loudly as possible. instead, however, of giving the name of an animal to each, he whispers to all the company, with the exception of one, to keep perfectly silent. to this one he whispers that the animal he is to imitate is the donkey. after a short time, so that all may be in readiness, the signal is given. instead of all the party making the sounds of various animals, nothing is heard but a loud bray from the one unfortunate member of the company. melting lead each person melts some lead and pours it through a wedding-ring or key into a dish of water. the lead will cool in various shapes, supposed to be prophetic. any ingenious person will interpret the shapes, and furnish much amusement for the listeners; thus, a bell-shaped drop indicates a wedding within a year; a drop resembling a torch or lamp signifies fame; a pen or ink-bottle, that the future companion is to be an author; a horn of plenty, wealth; a bag or trunk, travel; etc. fortune telling the fortune teller must provide the person who is to have his or her fortune told with a piece of paper and a pencil and then proceed to say: . write "yes" or "no." . "state a gentleman's or a lady's name." (if a lady's fortune is to be told she must write a gentleman's name and vice versa.) . "give a number." . "length of time." . "yes or no." . "yes or no." . "yes or no." . "a color." . "a color." . "yes or no." . "yes or no." . "a shape." . "a measure." . "a sum of money." . "a sum of money." . "a virtue." . "a profession." . "the name of a place." . "a lady's or gentleman's name." . "the name of a place." . "a number." . "yes or no." when these have all been written down, the fortune teller proceeds to read out the list of questions he has, with the answers corresponding in number. below is appended the list of questions, which, of course, must not be shown to the person whose fortune is being told until he or she has written the answers. . have you a lover? . what is his or her name? . how old is he or she? . how long have you known him or her? . does he or she know you love him or her? . is your affection returned? . have you or has he proposed? . what color is his or her hair? . what color are his or her eyes? . is he or she handsome? . is he or she conceited? . what shape is his or her nose? . what size is his or her mouth? . what is his or her fortune? . how much will he or she allow you? . what is his or her chief virtue? . what is his or her profession? . where did you first meet? . what is your rival's name? . where do you intend to live? . how many other proposals have you had, or made? . will the marriage be a happy one? love's dispensary a cozy corner or a convenient part of the room may be converted into an impromptu dispensary with the addition of the love potions and receptacles containing them, presided over by dr. dopem and his assistants. there are a number of pill boxes containing different colored pills, which are nothing but little round candies. the powders, composed of powdered sugar or brown sugar are folded in the regulation way, only in paper of various colors. plasters, court plaster cut in small pieces of different design. the directions for taking the powders, etc., may be read or told to each patient, as they are prescribed for, or a copied prescription could be given with each remedy. tell the guests that you understand they are all more or less inoculated with the love germ in some form and this condition, if neglected, may prove serious--so for their benefit, dr. dopem will prescribe for each, according to his need, a remedy which is guaranteed to have the desired effect. remedies and their use. red pills--six, take one every two and a half minutes. will cause your ideal to reciprocate your love. pink pills--four at once. will renew your fading love. white pills--three, taken with eyes closed. will cure jealousy. black pills--three--take one between each breath. will vanquish your rival. yellow pills--sneeze, take three pills and sneeze again--repeat if necessary. will make you love the one who loves you. lavender pills--stand on left foot, place right hand on heart, take two pills, reverse position, stand on right foot, left hand on heart, take two pills. will bring about a proposal--or consent to your proposal. white powder--take with fingers crossed and eyes shut. will make you fall in love with the first one of the opposite sex you see. pink powder--take with feet crossed. will gain consent for a kiss from the right party. blue powder--take with right hand holding left ear. will bring about an introduction to miss or mr. right. red powder--take with right hand on stomach and standing on right foot. will bring your heart's desire, providing you tell what it is. yellow powder-take while kneeling. will make your rival jealous. purple powder--take with right hand and arm extended forward, left foot and limb extended backward. will bring a speedy marriage. black powder--take while on left knee, with left hand on top of head. will cause unwelcome attentions to cease. the plasters worn conspicuously--have the following meaning:-- worn on the right cheek--i love you. on the left cheek--i dislike you. on the forehead--i will be your friend. on the nose--i am looking for a partner. on the chin--i wish to speak to you. at the corner of the mouth--i am willing to be kissed. prescriptions may be paid for with some trinket which may be redeemed as a forfeit. a forfeit may be demanded if directions are not faithfully carried out. forfeits may be demanded or omitted as desired by the hostess. suggestions for redeeming forfeits will be found under heading "forfeits" in this book. apples and flour suspend horizontally from ceiling a stick three feet long. on one end stick an apple, upon other tie small bag of flour. set stick whirling. each guest takes turn in trying to bite apple-end of stick. it is amusing to see guests receive dabs of flour on face. guest who first succeeds in biting apple gets prize. web of fate long bright colored strings, of equal length are twined and intertwined to form a web. use half as many strings as there are guests. remove furniture from center of a large room--stretch a rope around the room, from corner to corner, about four feet from the floor. tie one end of each string to the rope, half at one end and half at one side of the room; weave the strings across to the opposite end and side of the room and attach to rope. or leave furniture in room and twine the strings around it. each guest is stationed at the end of a string and at a signal they begin to wind up the string until they meet their fate at the other end of it. the lady and gentleman winding the same string will marry each other, conditions being favorable; otherwise they will marry someone else. those who meet one of their own sex at the other end of the string will be old maids or bachelors. the couple finishing first will be wedded first. a prize may be given the lucky couple, also to the pair of old maids and the pair of bachelors finishing first. partners partners for different games or for the midnight spread may be decided by the fates. write a number on one side of a small slip of paper, on the reverse side write a bit of "fortune." place the folded papers in empty peanut or english walnut shells; the shells may be slightly glued together or tied with colored ribbons or string, or a narrow band of paper pasted at the ends will hold the two halves together. if the paper band is used, the numbers may be written on them and partners drawn before the nuts are cracked and fortunes read. there should be two portions of nuts and two sets of numbers, one for the ladies and one for the gentlemen. the lady and gentleman drawing corresponding numbers are partners. a few suggestions for fortunes. you will meet your future husband (or wife) to-night. prosperity and love await you. a lap full of money and a lap full of children. change your mind before it is too late. you have made the right choice. your love is not returned. she is tired of taffy, try chocolates. thee does not love him as much the(e)auto. you have too many beaux to your string. your face is your fortune, but poverty is no crime. fate has deceived you; you will be left in the lurch, waiting at the church. your mate is true blue; what color are you? press your suit again; it needs it. a kiss in time may save nine others taking a chance. dame fortune says, "a good wife, happy days, a long life." you are well bred, but doomed to travel in single harness. your better half will be a silver one. your heart is like a street car--carries many passengers and always room for one more. the fates decree you shall married be in the year of . ask her--two can live as cheap as one, in fact cheaper, on the same salary. blind nut seekers let several guests be blindfolded. then hide nuts or apples in various parts of room or house. one finding most nuts or apples wins prize. to try one's luck in a dish of mashed potatoes place a ring, a dime, and a thimble. each guest is provided with a spoon with which to eat the potatoes; whoever gets the ring is to be married within a year; the thimble signifies single blessedness, while the dime prophesies riches or a legacy. some canny lassies have been known to get the ring into one of their very first spoonfuls, and have kept it for fun in their mouths, tucked snugly beneath the tongue, until the dish was emptied. such a lass was believed to possess the rare accomplishment of being able to hold her tongue, but nevertheless tricky. the loaf cake a loaf cake is often made, and in it are placed a ring and a key. the former signifies marriage, and the latter a journey, and the person who cuts the slice containing either must accept the inevitable. cyniver each girl and boy seeks an even-leaved sprig of ash; first of either sex that finds one calls out cyniver, and is answered by first of opposite sex that succeeds; and these two, if omen fails not, will be joined in wedlock. naming chestnuts roast three chestnuts before the fire, one of which is named for some lady (or gentleman); the other two, for gentlemen (or ladies). if they separate, so will those for whom they are named; those jumping toward the fire are going to a warmer climate; those jumping from the fire, to a colder climate; if two gentlemen jump toward one another, it means rivalry. the mirror walk backward several feet out of doors in moonlight with mirror in your hand, or within doors with candle in one hand and mirror in the other, repeating following rhyme, and face of your future companion will appear in glass: "round and round, o stars so fair! ye travel and search out everywhere; i pray you, sweet stars, now show to me this night who my future husband (wife) shall be." barrel-hoop suspend horizontally from ceiling a barrel-hoop on which are fastened alternately at regular intervals apples, cakes, candies, candle-ends. players gather in circle and, as it revolves, each in turn tries to bite one of the edibles; the one who seizes candle pays forfeit. jumping lighted candle place a lighted candle in middle of floor, not too securely placed; each one jumps over it. whoever succeeds in clearing candle is guaranteed a happy year, free of trouble or anxiety. he who knocks candle over will have a twelve-month of woe. ring and goblet tie wedding-ring or key to silken thread or horsehair, and hold it suspended within a glass; then say the alphabet slowly; whenever ring strikes glass, begin over again and in this way spell name of future mate. mirror and apple stand in front of mirror in dimly lighted room and eat an apple. if your lover reciprocates your love he will appear behind you and look over your right shoulder and ask for a piece of apple. apple-seed test cut an apple open and pick out seeds from core. if only two seeds are found, they portend early marriage; three, legacy; four, great wealth; five, a sea voyage; six, great fame as orator or singer; seven, possession of any gift most desired. needle game each person floats greased needle in basin of water. impelled by attraction of gravitation, needles will act very curiously; some cling together, others rush to margin and remain. the manner in which one person's needle behaves towards another's causes amusement, and is supposed to be suggestive and prophetic. winding yarn throw a ball of yarn out of window but hold fast to one end and begin to wind. as you wind say, "i wind, who holds?" over and over again; before end of yarn is reached, face of future partner will appear in window, or name of sweetheart will be whispered in ear. riddles few children think they will ever tire of playing games; but all the same, towards the end of a long evening, spent merrily in dancing and playing, the little ones begin to get too weary to play any longer, and it is very difficult to keep them amused. then comes the time for riddles! the children may sit quietly around the room, resting after their romps and laughter, and yet be kept thoroughly interested, trying to guess riddles. it is, however, very difficult to remember a number of good and laughable ones, so we will give a list of some, which will be quite sufficient to puzzle a roomful of little folks for several hours. why are weary people like carriage-wheels?--answer: because they are tired. an old woman in a red cloak was passing a field in which a goat was feeding. what strange transformation suddenly took place?--answer: the goat turned to butter (butt her), and the woman into a scarlet runner. why does a duck go into the water?--answer: for divers reasons. spell "blind pig" in two letters? p g; a pig without an i. which bird can lift the heaviest weights?--the crane. why is a wise man like a pin?--he has a head and comes to a point. why is a jew in a fever like a diamond?--because he is a jew-ill. why may carpenters reasonably believe there is no such thing as stone?--because they never saw it. what is that which is put on the table and cut, but never eaten?--a pack of cards. why does a sculptor die horribly?--because he makes faces and busts. when does a farmer double up a sheep without hurting it?--when he folds it. what lives upon its own substance and dies when it has devoured itself?--a candle. why is a dog biting his tail a good manager?--because he makes both ends meet. what thing is it that is lower with a head than without one?--a pillow. which is the left side of a plum-pudding?--that which is not eaten. what letter of the alphabet is necessary to make a shoe?--the last. why is it certain that "uncle tom's cabin" was not written by the hand of its reputed author?--because it was written by mrs. beecher's toe (stowe). if all the seas were dried up, what would everybody say?--we haven't a notion (an ocean). why is a fishmonger never generous?--because his business makes him sell fish (selfish). what is that which works when it plays and plays when it works?--a fountain. what is that from which you may take away the whole and yet there will be some remaining?--the word wholesome. why are fowls the most economical things a farmer can keep?--because for every grain they give a peck. what coin doubles its value by taking away a half of it?--halfpenny. why is it dangerous to walk in the meadows in springtime?--because the trees are shooting and the bulrush is out (bull rushes out). why is a vine like a soldier?--because it is listed and has ten drills (ten-drils) and shoots. why is an opera-singer like a confectioner?--because she deals in ice- creams (high screams). if a man who is carrying a dozen glass lamps drops one, what does he become?--a lamp lighter. what belongs to yourself, but is used more by your friends than by yourself?--your name. why is a spider a good correspondent?--because he drops a line at every post. when is the clock on the stairs dangerous?--when it runs down. why is the letter "k" like a pig's tail?--because it comes at the end of pork. what is the keynote to good manners?--b natural. why is a five-pound bank-note much more profitable than five sovereigns?--because when you put it in your pocket you double it, and when you take it out you will find it increases. why is a watch like a river?--because it doesn't run long without winding. what is that which flies high, flies low, has no feet, and yet wears shoes?--dust. when has a man four hands?--when he doubles his fists. what trees has fire no effect upon?--ashtrees; because when they are burned, they are ashes still. what is the difference between a schoolmaster and an engine-driver?-- one minds the train and the other trains the mind. a man had twenty sick (six) sheep, and one died; how many were left?-- . what is that which everybody has seen but will never see again?-- yesterday. which is the best day for making a pancake?--friday. which is the smallest bridge in the world?--the bridge of your nose. what four letters would frighten a thief?--o i c u. what is that which goes from london to york without moving?--the road. which is easier to spell--fiddle-de-dee or fiddle-de-dum?--fiddle-de- dee, because it is spelt with more "e's." when may a chair be said to dislike you?--when it can't bear you. what animal took most luggage into the ark, and which two took the least?--the elephant, who took his trunk, while the fox and the cock had only a brush and a comb between them. which of the english kings has most reason to complain of his washer- woman?--king john, when he lost his baggage in the wash. if a bear were to go into a linen-draper's shop, what would he want?-- he would want muzzlin'. why is b like a hot fire?--because it makes oil boil. if an egg were found on a music-stool, what poem would it remind you of?--"the lay of the last minstrel." why is a schoolmaster like a shoe-black?--because he polishes the understanding of the people. why was the first day of adam's life the longest?--because it had no eve. why is a washerwoman like a navigator?--because she spreads her sheets, crosses the line, and goes from pole to pole. why is an author the queerest animal in the world?--because his tale comes out of his head. why is it that a tailor won't attend to business?--because he is always cutting out. when can a horse be sea-green in color?--when it's a bay. why were gloves never meant to sell?--because they were made to be kept on hand. when are we all artists?--when we draw a long face. why are watch-dogs bigger by night than by day?--because they are let out at night and taken in in the morning. when is a tradesman always above his business?--when he lives over his shop. which is the liveliest city in the world?--berlin; because it's always on the spree. why is a water-lily like a whale?--because they both come to the surface to blow. why is a shoemaker the most industrious of men?--because he works to the last. what is book-keeping?--forgetting to return borrowed volumes. why is scooping out a turnip a noisy process?--because it makes it hollow. why are teeth like verbs?--because they are regular, irregular, and defective. what ships hardly ever sail out of sight?--hardships. when is an artist a dangerous person?--when his designs are bad. why are tortoiseshell-combs like citadels?--they are for-tresses. why is the isthmus of suez like the first "u" in cucumber?--because it is between two "c's" (seas). what motive led to the invention of railroads?--the locomotive. why are deaf people like dutch cheeses?--because you can't make them here. when is the best time to get a fresh egg at sea?--when the ship lays to. who was the first whistler?--the wind. what tune did he whistle?--over the hills and far away. why need a traveler never starve in the desert?--because of the sand which is (sandwiches) there. why is sympathy like blindman's buff?--because it is a fellow feeling for a fellow creature. if a frenchman were to fall into a tub of tallow, in what word would he express his situation?--in-de-fat-i-gabble. (indefatigable.) why is a diner on board a steam-boat like easter day?--because it is a movable feast. why is a little man like a good book?--because he is often looked over. why is a pig in a parlor like a house on fire?--because the sooner it is put out the better. what is the difference between a soldier and a bombshell?--one goes to war, the other goes to pieces. why is it dangerous to sleep in a train?--because every train runs over all the sleepers on the line. spell "enemy" in three letters?--f o e. which is the only way that a leopard can change his spots?--by going from one spot to another. why did eve never fear the measles?--because she'd adam. when is a tall man a little short?--when he hasn't got quite enough cash. what houses are the easiest to break into?--the houses of bald people; because their locks are few. why is a watch the most difficult thing to steal?--because it must be taken off its guard. why is there never anybody at home in a convent?--because it is an (n)uninhabited place. why does a person who is not good-looking make a better carpenter than one who is?--because he is a deal plainer. what plant stands for no. ?--iv. what is the best tree for preserving order?--the birch. why is shoemaking the easiest of trades?--because the boots are always soled before they are made. how can a gardener become thrifty?--by making the most of his thyme, and by always putting some celery in the bank. why is it probable that beer was made in the ark?--because the kangaroo went in with hops, and the bear was always bruin. "what was the biggest thing you saw at the world's fair?" asked a wife of her husband.--"my hotel bill!" said he. why is c like a schoolmistress?--because it forms lasses into classes. what is that which never asks any questions and yet requires many answers?--the street-door. if a man bumped his head against the top of a room, what article of stationery would he be supplied with?--ceiling whacks. (sealing-wax.) which is the longest word in the english language?--smiles; because there is a mile between the first and last letters. which is the oldest tree in england?--the elder tree. what is that which happens twice in a moment and not once in a thousand years?--the letter m. forfeits in going through this book of--games the reader will find that the players for various reasons are penalized or required to pay a forfeit. when a player is so fined he must immediately surrender some pocketpiece or personal belonging as a pawn or security which may later be redeemed when "blind justice" passes the real sentence. the players usually select some ready witted person to assume the part of justice, another acts as crier or collector. justice is blindfolded and the crier holds the article over his head saying: "heavy, heavy hangs over thy head." justice asks: "fine or superfine?" if it be an article belonging to a gentleman the crier answers "fine"; if it belongs to a lady he answers, "superfine," and asks, "what shall the owner do to redeem his (or her) property?" and blind justice renders the sentence. if the proper person has been chosen for justice a great deal of fun may be caused by the impromptu imposition of ridiculous penalties. or the persons making up the party may in turn take the part of justice, each imposing a penalty. some of the most familiar penalties are: put one hand where the other cannot touch it.--grasp the elbow. take the journey to rome.--the culprit is required to go to each person and say that he or she is going on a journey to rome and ask whether they have anything to send to the pope. the players load him up with various articles, the more cumbersome the better, which he must carry until every person has been visited. then he must walk out of the room and back, distributing the articles to their proper places. spell constantinople.--when the offender begins to spell and reaches c-o-n-s-t-a-n-t-i-, the players cry "no" (the next letters in the word being n-o). each time the culprit gets to c-o-n-s-t-a-n-t-i-, the players cry "no," and unless he knows the trick he will begin the spelling again and again. kiss your own shadow.--if the culprit is not familiar with this forfeit he will kiss his own shadow on the wall, but realizes how foolish he was when he sees some other victim place himself between the light and a lady and kiss his shadow which then falls on the lady. sit upon the fire.--this forfeit will puzzle the culprit, but may be easily accomplished by writing the word "fire" on a slip of paper and sitting upon it. ask a question which cannot be answered in the negative.-"what do the letters y-e-s spell?" kiss a book inside and outside without opening the book.--this apparently impossible feat may be accomplished by kissing the book inside the room and then carrying it outside of the room and kissing it there. take a person upstairs and bring him down on a feather.--this is another apparently impossible feat but of course there is "down on a feather." act living statue.--the victim must stand upon a chair and is posed by the players in succession according to their various ideas of grecian statuary, giving the victim various articles to hold in his hand such as pokers, shovels, etc. leave the room with two legs and come back with six.--this sentence can be fulfilled by going out of the room and carrying a chair into the room when you come back. perform the egotist.--the culprit is required to drink his own health and make some flowery speech concerning himself. if his speech is not egotistic enough the players may again and again demand a more flattering one. place three chairs in a row, take off your shoes and jump over them.-- it is very funny to hear the culprit plead that he could not possibly jump over the three chairs when the sentence means to jump over his shoes--"take off your shoes and jump over them." the three salutes.--the victim is required to "kneel to the prettiest; bow to the wittiest and kiss the one he loves best." the easiest way to pay this forfeit is to kneel to the plainest, bow to the dullest and kiss the one for whom he cares the least. kiss the lady you love the best without letting any one know.--this is performed by the condemned kissing several ladies, or perhaps every lady in the room. imitate a donkey.--the culprit must bray like one. play the shoemaker.--the culprit must take off his shoe and pretend to drive pegs into it. shake a coin off the head.--this may be made productive of much amusement. the leader, having wetted a coin, presses it firmly for several seconds against the forehead of the victim. when he withdraws his thumb he secretly brings away the coin, but the victim invariably believes that he can still feel it sticking to his forehead, and his head-shakings and facial contortions to get rid of his imaginary burden are ludicrous. it is understood at the time the sentence is pronounced that he must shake the coin off and must not touch it with his hands. the three questions.--the victim is required to leave the room. three questions are agreed upon in his absence, and he is requested to say "yes" or "no" to each as they are asked him, not knowing, of course, what the questions are, the result is usually embarrassing, he finds he has made some ignominious admission, has declined something he would be very glad to have or accepted something he would much rather do without. go to market.--the culprit is ordered to go to market with some one of the opposite sex. they stand about eight feet apart, facing each other, and the culprit asks his companion if she likes apples (or any article he may choose) if the answer is "yes," she takes a step forward, if "no," a step backward. if something is liked very much or disliked very much a long step is taken. then she asks him a question which is answered by stepping forward or backward and so on until they meet when a kiss is usually claimed and taken. place a straw or small article on the ground in such a manner that no one present can jump over it.--this is done by placing the article against the wall. bite an inch off the poker.--a poker is held about an inch from the face, making a bite---of course, the person does not bite the poker but "an inch off the poker." blow a candle out blindfold.--the person paying the forfeit is shown the exact position of the candle and then blindfolded, and having been turned about once or twice is requested to blow it out. the cautious manner in which the person will go and endeavor to blow out the clock on the mantle piece or an old gentleman's bald head, while the candle is serenely burning a few feet away must be seen to be appreciated. the german band.--this is a joint forfeit for three or four persons, each of whom is assigned some imaginary instrument and required to personate a performer in a german band, imitating not only the action of the players but the sound of the instrument as well. was produced from images generously made available by the cwru preservation department digital library umbrellas and their history by william sangster "munimen ad imbres." contents. chapter i. introductory chapter ii. the ancient history of the umbrella chapter iii. the umbrella in england chapter iv. the story of the parachute chapter v. umbrella stories chapter vi. the regeneration of the umbrella chapter i. introductory. can it be possibly believed, by the present eminently practical generation, that a busy people like the english, whose diversified occupations so continually expose them to the chances and changes of a proverbially fickle sky, had ever been ignorant of the blessings bestowed on them by that dearest and truest friend in need and in deed, the umbrella? can you, gentle reader, for instance, realise to yourself the idea of a man not possessing such a convenience for rainy weather? why so much unmerited ridicule should be poured upon the head (or handle) of the devoted umbrella, it is hard to say. what is there comic in an umbrella? plain, useful, and unpretending, if any of man's inventions ever deserved sincere regard, the umbrella is, we maintain, that invention. only a few years back those who carried umbrellas were held to be legitimate butts. they were old fogies, careful of their health, and so on; but now-a-days we are wiser. everybody has his umbrella. it is both cheaper and better made than of old; who, then, so poor he cannot afford one? to see a man going out in the rain umbrella-less excites as much mirth as ever did the sight of those who first--wiser than their generation--availed themselves of this now universal shelter. yet still a touch of the amusing clings to the "gamp," as it is sarcastically called. 'what says douglas jerrold on the subject? "there are three things that no man but a fool lends, or, having lent, is not in the most helpless state of mental crassitude if he ever hopes to get back again. these three things, my son, are--books, umbrellas, and money! i believe a certain fiction of the law assumes a remedy to the borrower; but i know of no case in which any man, being sufficiently dastard to gibbet his reputation as plaintiff in such a suit, ever fairly succeeded against the wholesome prejudices of society. umbrellas may be 'hedged about' by cobweb statutes; i will not swear it is not so; there may exist laws that make such things property; but sure i am that the hissing contempt, the loud-mouthed indignation of all civilised society, 'would sibilate and roar at the bloodless poltroon who should engage law on his side to obtain for him the restitution of a--lent umbrella!" strange to say, it is a fact, melancholy enough, but for all that too true, that our forefathers, scarce seventy years agone, meekly endured the pelting of the pitiless storm without that protection vouchsafed to their descendants by a kind fate and talented inventors. the fact is, the umbrella forms one of the numerous conveniences of life which seem indispensable to the present generation, because just so long a time has passed since their introduction, that the contrivances which, in some certain degree, previously supplied their place, have passed into oblivion. we feel the convenience we possess, without being always aware of the gradations which intervened between it and the complete inconvenience of being continually unsheltered from the rain, without any kind friend from whom to seek the protection so ardently desired. fortunately a very simple process will enable the reader to realise the fact in its full extent; he need only walk about in a pelting shower for some hours without an umbrella, or when the weight of a cloak would be insupportable, and at the same time remember that seventy years ago a luxury he can now purchase in almost every street, was within the reach of but very few, while omnibuses and cabs were unknown. but, apart from considerations of comfort, we may safely claim very much higher qualities as appertaining to the umbrella. we may even reckon it among the causes that have contributed to lengthen the average of human life, and hold it a most effective agent in the great increase which took place in the population of england between the years and as compared with the previous century. the registrar-general, in his census-report, forgot to mention this fact, but there appears to us not the slightest doubt that the introduction of the umbrella at the latter part of the former, and commencement of the present century, must have greatly conduced to the improvement of the public health, by preserving the bearer from the various and numerous diseases superinduced by exposure to rain. but perhaps we are a little harsh on our worthy ancestors; they may have possessed some species of protection from the rain on which they prided themselves as much as we do on our umbrellas, and regarded the new-fangled invention (as they no doubt termed it) as something exceedingly absurd, coxcombical, and unnecessary; while we, who are in possession of so many life-comforts of which those of the good old times were supremely ignorant--among these we give the umbrella brevet rank--can afford to smile at such ebullitions as we have come across in those books of the day we have consulted, and to which we shall presently have an opportunity of referring. we can happily estimate the value of such a friend as the umbrella, the silent companion of our walks abroad, a companion incomparably superior to those slimy waterproof abominations so urgently recommended to us, for, at the least, the umbrella cannot be accused of injuring, the health as _they_ have been, as it appears, with very good reason. in fact, so long as the climate of england remains as it is, so long will umbrellas hold their ground in public esteem, and we do not believe that the clerk of the weather will allow himself to be bribed into any alteration, at least for trade considerations. another remarkable proof of the utility of the umbrella may be found in the universality of its use. it has asserted its sway from indus to the pole, and is to be met with in every possible variety, from the napoleon blue silk of the london exquisite, to the coarse red or green cotton of the turkish rayah. throughout the continent it forms the peaceful armament of the peasant, and no more curious sight can be imagined than the wide, uncovered market-place of some quaint old german town during a heavy shower, when every industrial covers himself or herself with the aegis of a portable tent, and a bright array of brass ferrules and canopies of all conceivable hues which cotton can be made to assume, without losing its one quality of "fast colour," flash on the spectator's vision. the advantages of the umbrella being thus recognised, it must be confessed that it has hitherto been treated in a most ungrateful and step-motherly fashion. we fly to the umbrella when the sky is overcast--it affords us shelter in the hour of need--and the service is forgotten as soon as the necessity is relieved. we make abominable jokes upon the umbrella; we borrow it without compunction from any confiding friend, though with the full intention of never returning it--in fact, it has often been a matter of surprise to us that any one ever does buy an umbrella, for where can the old umbrellas go to? although that question has often been asked concerning the fate of pins, the fact as regards the former, looking at their size, is more curious--and yet, for all that, we treat it with shameful neglect, as if ashamed of a crime we have committed and anxious to conceal the evidences of our guilt. let us then strive to afford such reparation as in our power lies, by giving a slight description of the umbrella and its history, making up for any deficiencies of our pen by the assistance of the artist's pencil. chapter ii. the ancient history of the umbrella. the umbrella is derived from a stately family, that of the parasol, the legitimate use of the umbrella, though sufficiently obvious, being almost ignored in those countries whence it derives its being, since it was as a protection against the scorching heat of the sun that it was first used. the parasol, then, or umbrella--since for all practical purposes the two are really identical--dates from the earliest ages, some commentators on the bible fancying they can discover it in places where a shade protecting from the sun is mentioned. this is not unlikely, but it is certain that the parasol has been in use from a very early period. chinese history goes a very long way back, inasmuch as it places the invention of these elegant machines many thousand years anterior to the mosaic date of the world's creation. their antiquity among the hindoos is more satisfactorily proved by the following passage from the dramatic poem of _s'akuntâla_, the date of which is supposed to be the th century of the christian era:-- ("the cares of supporting the nation harass the sovereign, while he is cheered with a view of the people's welfare, as a huge umbrella, of which a man bears the staff in his own hand, fatigues while it shades him. the sovereign, like a branching tree, bears on his head the scorching sunbeams, while the broad shade allays the fever of those who seek shelter under him.") the origin of the parasol is wrapped in considerable obscurity. some profound investigators have supposed that large leaves tied to the branching extremities of a bough suggested the first idea of the invention. others assert that the idea was probably derived from the tent, which remains in form unaltered to the present day. dr. morrison, _however_, tells us that the tradition existing in china is, that the _san_, which signifies a shade for sun and rain, originated in standards and banners waving in the air. as this is a case in which we may quote the line--"who shall decide when doctors disagree?"--we may with safety assume that all are in the right, and that the parasol owed its origin to all or any of the above-mentioned fortuitous circumstances. in the ninevite sculptures the umbrella or parasol appears frequently. layard gives a picture of a bas-relief representing a king in his chariot, with an attendant holding an umbrella over his head. it has a curtain hanging down behind, but is otherwise exactly like those in use at the present time, the stretchers and sliding runner being plainly represented. to quote the words of that indefatigable traveller:-- "the umbrella or parasol, the emblem of royalty so universally accepted by eastern nations, was generally carried over the king in time of peace, and sometimes even in time of war. in shape it resembled, very closely, those in common use; but it is always open in the sculptures. it was edged with tassels, and was usually ornamented at the top by a flower or some other ornament. on the later bas-reliefs, a long piece of embroidered linen or silk falling from one side like a curtain, appears to screen the king completely from the sun. the parasol was reserved exclusively for the monarch, and is never represented as borne over any other person." in egypt again, the parasol is found in various shapes. in some instances it is depicted as a _flabellum_, a fan of palm-leaves or coloured feathers fixed on a long handle, resembling those now carried behind the pope in processions. sir gardner wilkinson, in his work on egypt, has, an engraving of an ethiopian princess travelling through upper egypt in a chariot; a kind of umbrella fastened to a stout pole rises in the centre, bearing a close affinity to what are now termed chaise umbrellas. to judge from wilkinson's account, the umbrella was generally used throughout egypt, partly as a mark of distinction, but more on account of its useful than its ornamental qualities. the same author is rather doubtful whether, in the picture given by him of a military chief in his chariot, the frame which an attendant holds up behind the rider is a shield or a screen, but the latter is the more probable supposition, as it has all the appearance of an umbrella without the usual handle. in some paintings on a temple wall, an umbrella is held over the figure of a god carried in procession, and altogether we may, perhaps, consider it decided, beyond dispute, that the umbrella in its modern shape was used in egypt. [footnote: to silence captious critics, who may find fault with the designs of our artist, we may once for all remark that an idealised conception of the figures only is given. the style of the ancient draughtsmen was by no means so perfect that we, who live in a more civilised age, should be entirely fettered by their conceptions, and the records of ancient life are not nearly full enough to justify any one who may assert that the pictures in our pages are not as accurate as those in the british museum. anyhow, what they ought to have been, rather than what the ancient were, our artist has striven to delineate.] in persia the parasol is repeatedly found in the carved work of persepolis, and sir john malcolm has an article on the subject in his "history of persia." in some sculptures--of a very egyptian character, by the way--the figure of a king appears attended by a slave, who carries over his head an umbrella, with stretchers and runner complete. in other sculptures on the rock at takht-i-bostan, supposed to be not less than twelve centuries old, a deer-hunt is represented, at which a king looks on, seated on a horse, and having an umbrella borne over his head by an attendant. this combination of business and comfort forcibly reminds us of a certain wet day in carlsruhe, where we witnessed from the window of the hôtel d'angleterre a stout, martial-looking national guardsman marching to the exercising-ground with an umbrella over his head, and a maid-servant diligently tramping through the mud behind him, bearing his musket. as in assyria, so in most other eastern countries, this use of the parasol carried with it a peculiar and honourable significance. the tradition relating to its origin in china has been already alluded to, and we can trace notices of its use a very long way back indeed. according to dr. morrison, umbrellas and parasols are referred to in books printed about a.d. , but their use has been traced still further back than this. a very ancient book of chinese ceremonies, called "tcheou-li, or the rites of tcheou," directs that upon the imperial cars the dais should be placed. "the figure of this dais contained in the chinese edition of tcheou-li, and the particular description of it given in the explanatory commentary of lin-hi-ye, both identify it with an umbrella. the latter describes the dais to be composed of arcs, which are equivalent to the whalebone ribs of the modern instrument, and the staff supporting the covering to consist of two parts, the upper being a rod / ths of a chinese foot in circumference, and the lower a tube / ths in circumference, into which the upper half is capable of sliding." in the second tartar invasion of china the emperor's son was taken prisoner by the tartar chief, and made to carry his umbrella when he went out hunting. starting from the royal significance attached to the umbrella, came a feeling of veneration for it, very different from the contempt with which we are now-a-days too apt to regard it. it was represented by many ancient nations as shading their gods. in the hindoo mythology vishnu is said to have paid a visit to the infernal regions with his umbrella over his head. one would think that in few places could an umbrella have been less appropriate, but doubtless vishnu knew what he was about, and had his own reasons for carrying his _parapluie_ under his arm. perhaps like mrs. gamp he could not be separated from it. so much for the ancient history of our subject in the east. we may now go on to countries about which we know a little more than of ancient china and assyria. in greece, as becker tells us in his "charicles," the parasol was an indispensable adjunct to a lady of fashion. it had also its religious signification. in the scirophoria, the feast of athene sciras, a white parasol was borne by the priestesses of the goddess from the acropolis to the phalerus. in the feasts of dionysius (in that at alea in arcadia, where he was exposed under an umbrella, and elsewhere) the umbrella was used, and in an old has-relief the same god is represented as descending ad _inferos_ with a small umbrella in his hand, like vishnu before mentioned. there was also another festival in which they appeared, though without any mystical signification. in the panathenæa, the daughters of the metceci, or foreign residents, carried parasols over the heads of athenian women as a mark of inferiority, "tas parthenons ton metoikon skiadaephorein en tais rompais aenankazon." --_oelian, v. h._, vi. . [footnote: "they compelled the maidens of the metceci to act as umbrella-bearers in the processions."] its use seems to have been confined to women. in pausanias there is a description of a tomb near pharæ, a greek city. on the tomb was the figure of a woman-- "themapaina de autae prosestaeke skiadeion pherousa." --_pausanias_, lib. vii., cap. , section . [footnote: "and by her stood a female slave, bearing a parasol."] aristophanes seems to mention it among the common articles of female use-- "aemin men gar son eti kai nun tantion, o kanon, oi kalathiokoi, to skiadeion." --_aristophanes, thesmoph._, . [footnote: "for now our loom is safe, our weaving-beam, our baskets and umbrella."] it occurs frequently on vases, and is in shape like that now used. it could be put up and down. "ta d' ota g'an son, nae al', exepetannuto osper skiadeion, kai palin xunaegeto." --_arist. eq._, . [footnote: "but your ears, by jove, are stretched out like a parasol, and now again shut up."] which the scholiast explains, _ekteinetai de kai systelletai pros ton katepeigonta kairon._ [footnote: "are opened and shut as need requires."] for a man to carry one was considered a mark of effeminacy, as appears from the following fragment of anacreon:-- "_skiadiskaen elephantinaen phorei gunaixin autos._" _athenaeus_, lib. xii., cap. , section . [footnote: "he carries an ivory parasol, as women do."] plutarch makes aristides speak of xerxes as sitting under a canopy or umbrella looking at the sea-fight-- "_kathaeenos hupd skiadi chrysae._" _plut. therm., c. _ (p. ), [footnote: "sitting under a golden canopy."] and of cleopatra in like manner-- "_upo skiadi chrysopasto._" _plut. anton., c. _ (p. ). [footnote: "under a gold-wrought canopy."] from greece it is probable that the use of the parasol passed to rome, where it seems to have been commonly used by women, while it was the custom even for effeminate men to defend themselves from the heat by means of the _umbraculum_, formed of skin or leather, and capable of being lowered at will. we find frequent reference to the umbrella in the roman classics, and it appears that it was, not unlikely, a post of honour among maid-servants to bear it over their mistresses. allusions to it are tolerably frequent in the poets. virgil's "munimen ad imbres" [footnote: "a shelter for the shower."] probably has nothing to do with umbrellas, but more definite mention of them is not wanting. ovid speaks of hercules carrying the parasol of omphale:-- "aurea pellebant rapidos umbracula soles, quæ tamen herculeæ sustinuere manus." --_ov. fast._, lib. ii., . i. [footnote: "a golden umbrella warded off the keen sun, which even the hands of hercules have borne."] martial speaks of a servant carrying the parasol:-- "umbellam lusca, lygde feras dominæ." --_mart._, lib. xi., ch. . [footnote: "mayst thou, lygde, be parasol-carrier for a publind mistress."] juvenal mentions an umbrella as a present:-- "en cui tu viridem umbellam cui succina mittas" --_juv._, ix., . [footnote: "see to whom it is sent a green umbrella and amber ornaments"] ovid advises a lover to make himself agreeable by holding his mistress's parasol:-- "ipse tene distenta suis umbracula virgis" _ov. ars._ am., ii., . [footnote: "yourself hold up the umbrella spread out by its rods"] this shows that the umbrella was of much the same construction as ours. a very common use for it was in the theatre, whenever, from wind or other cause, the _velarium_ or huge awning stretched over the building (always open to the air) could not be put up:-- "accipe quæ nimios vincant umbracula soles, sit licet, et ventus, te tua vela tegont." --_mart.,_ lib. xiv., ep. . [footnote: "take this, which may shield you from the sun's excessive rays. so may your own sail shield you, even should the breeze blow."] by _tua vela_ is to be understood "your own umbrella." and elsewhere the same writer gives the advice:-- "ingrediare viam coelo licet usque sereno ad subitas nunquam scortea desit aquas." --man'., lib. xiv. ep. . [footnote: "though with a bright sky you begin your journey, let this cloak ever be at hand in case of unexpected showers."] it will be noticed from the above extracts that the umbrella does not appear to have been used among the romans as a defence from rain; and this is curious enough, for we know that the theatres were protected by the _velarium_ or awning, which was drawn across the arena whenever a sudden shower came on; strange that this self-evident application of the umbrella should not have occurred to a nation generally so ingenious in the invention of every possible luxury. possibly the expense bestowed in the decoration of the _umbraculum_ was a reason for its not being applied to what we cannot but regard as its legitimate use. after the founding of constantinople, the custom of great people carrying an umbrella seems to have arisen, but in rome it appears only to have been used as a luxury, never as a mark of distinction, pliny speaks of umbrellas made of palm-leaves, but from other sources we may gather that the romans--at all events in the days of the empire--lavished as much splendour on their umbrella as on all the articles of their dress. ovid (as above quoted) speaks of an umbrella inwrought with gold, and claudian in the same way has:-- "neu defensura calorem aurea submoveant rapidos umbracula soles." --_claud._, lib. viii., de. iv. cons. honorii, . . [footnote: "nor to protect you from the heat, let the golden umbrella ward off the keen sun's rays."] from this we may conclude that the carrying an umbrella was in some sort a mark of effeminacy. in another place carrying the umbrella is alluded to as one of the duties of a slave:-- "jam non umbracula tollunt virginibus," etc. [footnote: "_now_ they do not carry girls' parasols."] gorius says that the umbrella came to rome from the etruscans, and certainly it appears not infrequently on etruscan vases, as also on later gems. one gem, figured by pacudius, shows an umbrella with a bent handle, sloping backwards. strabo describes a sort of screen or umbrella worn by spanish women, but this is not like a modern umbrella. very many curious facts are connected with the use of the umbrella throughout the east, where it was nearly everywhere one of the insignia of royalty, or at least of high rank. m. de la loubère, who was envoy extraordinary from the french king to the king of siam in and , wrote an account entitled a "new historical relation of the kingdom of siam," which was translated in into english. according to his account the use of the umbrella was granted to some only of the subjects by the king. an umbrella with several circles, as if two or three umbrellas were fastened on the same stick, was permitted to the king alone, the nobles carried a single umbrella with painted cloths hanging from it. the talapoins (who seem to have been a sort of siamese monks) had umbrellas made of a palm-leaf cut and folded, so that the stem formed a handle. the same writer describes the audience-chamber of the king of siam. in his quaint old french, he says:--"pour tout meuble il n'y a que trois para-sol, un devant la fenêtre, a neuf ronds, & deux à sept ronds aux deux côtéz de la fenêtre. le para-sol est en ce pais-la, ce que le dais est en celui-ci." tavernier, in his "voyage to the east," says that on each side of the mogul's throne were two umbrellas, and also describes the hall of the king of ava as decorated with an umbrella. the mahratta princes, who reigned at poonah and sattara, had the title of ch'hatra-pati, "lord of the umbrella." ch'hatra or cháta has been suggested as the derivation of _satrapaes_ (_exatrapaes_ in theopompus), and it seems a probable derivation enough. the cháta of the indian and burmese princes is large and heavy, and requires a special attendant, who has a regular position in the royal household. in ava it seems to have been part of the king's title, that he was "king of the white elephant, and lord of the twenty-four umbrellas." persons of rank in the mahratta court, who were not permitted the right of carrying an umbrella, used a screen, a flat vertical disc called aa'-ab-gir, carried by an attendant. even now the umbrella has not lost its emblematic meaning. in the king of burmah directed a letter to the marquis of dalhousie in which he styles himself "his great, glorious, and most excellent majesty, who reigns over the kingdoms of thunaparanta, tampadipa, and all the great umbrella-wearing chiefs of the eastern countries," &c. thus we see that the same signification which was attached to the umbrella by the ancient people of nineveh, still remains connected with it even in our own time. in the great exhibition of was the splendid umbrella belonging to his highness the maharajah of najpoor. the ribs and stretchers, sixteen in number, divided the umbrella into as many segments, covered with silk, exquisitely embroidered with gold and silver ornaments. the upper part of the design was complete in each department, but at the lower, it was formed into a graceful running border, to which a fringe was attached. the handle was hollow and formed of thick silver plates. in bengal it appears that no distinction is attached to the umbrella, since the poorer classes there use a cháta or small umbrella, made of leaves of the _licerata peltata_. these are of conical form and have numerous ribs and stretchers. the higher class in assam use a similar umbrella. in china the use of the umbrella does not appear to have been confined, as in india and persia, to royalty; but it was always, as it is now, a mark of high rank, though not exclusively so. there seems to have been no particular rule about it, but it carried with it some peculiar distinction; for, on one occasion at least, we hear of twenty-four umbrellas being carried before the emperor when he went out hunting. here it is, what it appears to be in no other eastern country, a defence against rain rather than sun, and while the richer people do not go out much while it is wet, the poorer classes wear a dress that protects them from the weather. in the rainy season, for instance, a chinese boatman wears a coat of straw, and a hat of straw and bamboo. such a dress, of course, renders an umbrella superfluous, and it matters little to the wearer how hard the rain may pelt. nevertheless great numbers of umbrellas are exported from china to india, the indian archipelago, and even south america. in the exhibition two only were shown. of them the report says, "they present nothing remarkable beyond the great number of ribs, which amount to forty-two. the ribs are formed of wood; and instead of being embraced by the fork of the stretcher, as in the case of european umbrellas, they have a groove cut out in the middle of their lengths, into which the stretcher is secured by a stud of wood. the head of each rib fits into a notch formed in the ring of wood, which is fastened on to the top of the stick, there being a separate, notch for each rib. the slide is of wood, and has forty-two notches, namely, one for each stretcher, which like the ribs, is formed of wood. the covering of the umbrellas exhibited is of oiled paper coarsely painted." but the use of the umbrella travelled westward, and with it the custom of regarding it as a mark of dignity. amongst the arabs the umbrella was a mark of distinction. niebuhr, who travelled in southern arabia, describes a procession of the iman of sanah. in it the iman and each of the princes of his numerous family, caused a _madalla,_ or large umbrella, to be carried by his side; and it is a privilege which, in this country, is appropriated to princes of the blood, just as the sultan of constantinople permits none but his vizier to have his caique, or gondola, covered behind, to keep him from the heat of the sun. the same writer goes on to say that many independent chiefs of yemen carried _madallas_ as a mark of their independence. in morocco, according to a passage quoted by a writer in the _penny magazine_ from the travels of ali bey, the emperor alone and his family are allowed to use it. "the retinue of the sultan was composed of a troop of from fifteen to twenty men on horseback. about a hundred steps behind them came the sultan, who was mounted on a mule with an officer bearing his umbrella, who rode by his side also on a mule. the umbrella is a distinguishing sign of the sovereign of morocco. nobody but himself, his sons, or his brothers dare to make use of it." in turkey the umbrella is common. a vestige of the reverence once attached to it remains in the custom of compelling everybody who passes the palace where the sultan is residing to lower his umbrella as a mark of respect. and--at all events some years back, before the crimean war had introduced so many europeans to constantinople--any one neglecting to pay the required reverence, stood in considerable danger of a lively reminder from the sentry on duty. before concluding this chapter, it may not be out of place to make a few remarks as to the origin of the word umbrella, as we have done regarding the thing itself. the english name is borrowed from the italian _ombrella_. the latin term _umbella_ is applied by botanists to those blossoms which are clustered at the extremities of several spokes, radiating from the common stem like the metallic props of the umbrella. the name, as is seen, does not give the slightest idea of the use of the article designated, as is often the case with words we practical folk employ; and we might well take a lesson from our cousins german or french, who have invented distinct names for the weapon used to ward off the rays of the sun, and that employed against rain, namely,--regenschirm, _parapluie;_ sonnenschirm, _parasol._ these are better than our names, even though both the french words labour under the disadvantage of being hybrids, half greek and half latin. such, then, is the ancient history of the umbrella, as far as our research has enabled us to trace it, and, indeed, we are now not a little surprised at the result of those labours which have enabled us to discover so much. chapter iii. the umbrella in england. as a canopy of state, umbrellas were generally used in the south of europe; they are found in the ceremonies of the byzantine church; they were borne over the host in procession, and formed part of the pontifical regalia. a mediæval gem represents a bishop, attended by a cross-bearer, and a servant who carries behind him an umbrella. in the basilican churches of rome is suspended a large umbrella, and the cardinal who took his title from the church has the privilege of having an umbrella carried over his head on solemn processions. it is not, altogether impossible that the cardinal's hat may be derived from this umbrella. the origin of this custom of hanging an umbrella in the basilican churches is plain enough. the judge sitting in the basilica would have it as part of his insignia of office. on the judgment hall being turned into a church, the umbrella remained, and in fact occupied the place of the canopy over thrones and the like in our own country. beatiano, an italian herald, says that "a vermilion umbrella in a field argent symbolises dominion." references crop up now and then throughout the middle age records, to umbrellas; but the extreme paucity of such allusions goes to show that they were not in common use. in an old romance, "the blonde of oxford," a jester makes fun of a nobleman for being out in the rain without his cloak. "were i a rich man," says he, "i would bear my house about with me." by this very valiant joke he meant, as he afterwards explained, that the nobleman should wear a cloak, not that he ought not to forget his umbrella so it is clear, we find, that our forefathers depended on their cloaks, not on their umbrellas, for protection against storms. careful research has enabled us to light on a solitary instance of an ancient english umbrella, for wright, in his "domestic manners of the english," gives a drawing from the harleian ms., no. , which represents an anglo-saxon gentleman walking out attended by his servant, the servant carrying an umbrella with a handle that slopes backwards, so as to bring the umbrella over the head of the person in front. it probably, therefore, could not be shut up, but otherwise it looks like an ordinary umbrella, and the ribs are represented distinctly. whether this earliest jonas hanway (the reputed first importer of the umbrella, of whom more hereafter) was peculiarly sybaritic in his notions, or whether, like the mammoth of siberia, he is the one remaining instance of a former "umbrelliferous" race, must, at least for the present, remain undecided. the general use of the parasol in france and england was adopted, probably from china, about the middle of the seventeenth century. at that period, pictorial representations of it are frequently found, some of which exhibit the peculiar broad and deep canopy belonging to the large parasol of the chinese government officials, borne by native attendants. john evelyn, in his diary for the nd june, , mentions a collection of rarities shown him by one thompson, a catholic priest, sent by the jesuits of japan and china to france. among the curiosities were "fans like those our ladies use, but much larger, and with long handles, strangely carved and filled with chinese characters," which is evidently a description of the parasol. in the title-page of evelyn's "kalendarium hortense," also published in the same year, we find a black page represented, bearing a closed umbrella or sunshade. it is again evident that the parasol was more an article of curiosity than use at this period, from the fact that it is mentioned as such in the catalogue of the "_museum tradescantium_, or collection of rarities, preserved at south lambeth, by london, by john tradescant." in coryat's "crudities," a very rare and highly interesting work, published in , about a century and a half prior to the general introduction of the umbrella into england, we find the following curious passage:-- after talking of fans he goes on to say, "and many of them doe carry other fine things of a far greater price, that will cost at the least a duckat, which they commonly call in the italian tongue umbrellas, that is, things which minister shadow veto them for shelter against the scorching heate of the sunne. these are made of leather, something answerable to the forme of a little cannopy, & hooped in the inside with divers little wooden hoopes that extend the umbrella in a pretty large cornpasse. they are used especially by horsemen, who carry them in their hands when they ride, fastening the end of the handle upon one of their thighs, and they impart so large a shadow unto them, that it keepeth the heate of the sunne from the upper parts of their bodies." reference to the same custom, of riders in italy using umbrellas, is made in florio's "worlde of wordes" ( ), where we find "ombrella, a fan, a canopie, also a festoon or cloth of state for a prince, also a kind of round fan or shadowing that they use to ride with in sommer in italy, a little shade." in cotgrave's "dictionary of the french and english tongues," the french ombrelle is translated, "an umbrello; a (fashion of) round and broad fanne, wherewith the indians (and from them our great ones) preserve themselves from the heat of a scorching sunne; and hence any little shadow, fanne, or thing, wherewith women hide their faces fro the sunne." in fynes moryson's "itinerary" ( ) we find a similar allusion to the habit of carrying umbrellas in hot countries "to auoide the beames of the sunne." their employment, says the author, is dangerous, "because they gather the heate into a pyramidall point, and thence cast it down perpendicularly upon the head, except they know how to carry them for auoyding that danger." this is certainly a fact not generally known to those who use parasols too recklessly. "poesis rediviva," by john collop, m.d. ( ), mentions umbrellas. michael drayton, writing about , speaks of a pair of doves, which are to watch over the person addressed in his verses:-- "of doves i have a dainty pair, which, when you please to take the air, about your head shall gently hover, your clear brow from the sun to cover; and with their nimble wings shall fan you, that neither cold nor heat shall tan you; and, like umbrellas, with their feathers shall shield you in all sorts of weathers." beaumont and fletcher have an allusion to the umbrella ( );-- "now are you glad, now is your mind at ease, now you have got a shadow, an umbrella, to keep the 'scorching world's opinion from your fair credit." --_rule a wife and have a wife_, act iii, sc. i. ben jonson, too, once mentions it (date ), speaking of a mishap which befel a lady at the spanish court:-- "and there she lay, flat spread as an umbrella." --_the devil is an ass_, act iv., sc. i. of the fact that umbrellas' were known and used in italy long prior to their introduction into france, we find a confirmation in old montaigne, who observes, _lib_. iii. _cap_. ix. :--"les ombrelles, de quoy depuis les anciens remains l'italie se sert, chargent plus le bras, qu'ils ne deschargent la teste." kersey's dictionary ( ) describes an umbrella as a "screen commonly used by women to keep off rain." the absence of almost all allusion to the umbrella by the wits of the seventeenth century, while the muff, fan, &c., receive so large a share of attention, is a further proof that it was far from being recognised as an article of convenient luxury at that day. the clumsy shape, probably, prevented its being generally used. in one of dryden's plays we find the line:-- "i can carry your umbrella and fan, your ladyship." gay, addressing a gentleman, in his "trivia, or the art of walking the streets of london" ( ), says:-- "be thou for every season justly dress'd, nor brave the piercing frost with open breast: and when the bursting clouds a deluge pour. let thy surtout defend the gaping shower." and again:-- "that garment best the winter's rage defends whose shapeless form in ample plaits depends; by various names in various countries known, yet held in all the true surtout alone. be thine of kersey tine, though small the cost, then brave, unwet, the rain, unchilled, the frost." these passages lead us to the belief that the umbrella was not used by gentlemen for a long time after its merits had been recognised by the fair sex. the following lines from the same author have often been quoted:-- "good housewives all the winter's rage despise defended by the riding-hood's disguise: or underneath the umbrella's oily shed safe through the wet on clinking pattens tread. let persian dames th' umbrellas rich display, to guard their beauties from the sunny ray, or sweating slaves support the shady load, when eastern monarchs show their state abroad, britain in winter only knows its aid to guard from chilly showers the walking maid." --_trivia_, b. . dean swift, also, in the _tatler_, no. , in describing a city shower, thus alludes to the common use of the umbrella by women:-- "now in contiguous drops the floods come down, threatening with deluge the devoted town: to shops in crowds the draggled females fly, pretend to cheapen goods, but nothing buy: the templar spruce, while every spout's abroach, stays till 'tis fair, yet seems to call a coach: the tucked-up sempstress walks with hasty strides, while streams run down her oiled umbrella's sides." about this time the custom obtained of keeping an umbrella in the halls of great houses, to be used in passing from the door to the carriage. at coffee-houses, too, the same was done. that the use of the umbrella was considered far too effeminate for man, is seen from the following advertisement from the _female tatler_ for december th, :--"the young gentleman borrowing the umbrella belonging to wills' coffee-house, in cornhill, of the mistress, is hereby advertised, that to be dry from head to foot on the like occasion, he shall be welcome to the maid's pattens." defoe's description of robinson crusoe's umbrella is, of course, familiar to all our readers. he makes his hero say that he had seen umbrellas used in brazil, where they were found very useful in the great heats that were there, and that he constructed his own instrument in imitation of them, "i covered it with skins," he adds, "the hair outwards, so that it cast off the rain like a pent-house, and kept off the sun so effectually, that i could walk out in the hottest of the weather with greater advantage than i could before in the coolest." we may also add, that from this description the original heavy umbrellas obtained the name of "robinson," which they retained for many years, both here and in france. in the "memoir of ambrose barnes," published for the surtees society, under date , appears an entry, "umbrella for the church's use, s." a similar entry is also found in the churchwarden's accounts for the parochial chapelry of burnley, surrey, for a.d. , "paid for umbrella _l_. _s_. _d_." both these umbrellas were in all likelihood intended for the use of clergymen at funerals in the churchyard, as was that alluded to in hone's _year-book_ ( ) which was kept for the same purpose in a country church. this last had "an awning of green oiled canvas, such as common umbrellas were made of, forty years ago." bailey's _encyclopædia_ ( ) has "umbrello, a sort of wooden frame, covered with cloth, put over a window to keep out the sun; also a screen carried over the head to defend from sun or rain." also "parasol, a little umbrella to keep off sun." there is at woburn abbey a picture, painted about , of the duchess of bedford, with a black servant behind her, who holds an umbrella over her, and a sketch of the same period attached to a song called "the generous repulse," shows a lady seated on a flowery bank holding a parasol with a long handle over her head, while she gently checks the ardour of her swain, and consoles him by the following touching strain:-- "thy vain pursuit, fond youth, give o'er, what more, alas! can flavia do? thy worth i own, thy fate deplore, all are not happy that are true." * * * * * "but if revenge can ease thy pain, i'll soothe the ills i cannot cure, tell thee i drag a hopeless chain, and all that i inflict endure!" rather cold consolation, but an unexceptionable and moral sentiment. the idea, therefore, that the duchess of rutland devised parasols in for the first time is obviously incorrect, whatever her grace may have done towards rendering them fashionable. captain cook, in one of his voyages, saw some of the natives of the south pacific islands, with umbrellas made of palm-leaves. we have thus seen that the use both of the umbrella and parasol was not unknown in england during the earlier half of the eighteenth century. that it was not very common, is evident from the fact that general (then lieut.-colonel) wolfe, writing from paris in , speaks of the people there using umbrellas for the sun and rain, and wonders that a similar practice does not obtain in england. just about the same time they do seem to have come into general use, and that pretty rapidly, as people found their value, and got over the shyness natural to a first introduction. jonas hanway, the founder of the magdalen hospital, has the credit of being the first man who had the courage to carry one habitually in london, since it is recorded in the life of that venerable philanthropist, the friend of chimney-sweeps and sworn foe to tea, that he was the first man who ventured to dare public reproach and ridicule by carrying an umbrella. he probably felt the benefit of one during his travels in persia, where they were in constant use as a protection against the sun, and it is also said that he was in ill health when he first made use of it. it was more than likely, however, that jonas hanway's neatness in dress and delicate complexion led him, on his return from abroad, to appreciate a luxury hitherto only confined to the ladies. mr. pugh, who wrote his life, gives the following description of his personal appearance, which may be regarded as a gem in its way:-- "in his dress, as far as was consistent with his ideas of health and ease, he accommodated himself to the prevailing fashion. as it was frequently necessary for him to appear in polite circles on unexpected occasions, he usually wore dress clothes with a large french bag. his hat, ornamented with a gold button, was of a size and fashion to be worn as well under the arm as on the head. when it rained, a small _parapluie_ defended his face and wig." as hanway died in , and he is said to have carried an umbrella for thirty years, the date of its first use by him may be set down at about . for some time umbrellas were objects of derision, especially from the hackney coachmen, who saw in their use an invasion on the vested rights of the fraternity; just as hackney coaches had once been looked upon by the watermen, who thought people should travel by river, not by road. john macdonald, perhaps the only footman (always excepting the great mr. james yellowplush) who ever wrote a memoir of himself, relates that in , he used to be greeted with the shout, "frenchman, frenchman! why don't you call a coach?" whenever he went out with his "fine silk umbrella, newly brought from spain." records of the umbrella's first appearance in other english works have also been preserved. in glasgow (according to the narrative in cleland's "statistical account of glasgow ") "the late mr. john jamieson, surgeon, returning from paris, brought an umbrella with him, which was the first seen in this city. the doctor, who was a man of great humour, took pleasure in relating to me how he was stared at with his umbrella." in edinburgh dr. spens is said to have been the first to carry one. in bristol a red leghorn umbrella appeared about , according to a writer in _notes and queries_, and created there no small sensation. the trade between bristol and leghorn may account for this. some five-and-thirty years ago it is said that an old lady was living in taunton who recollected when there were only two umbrellas in the town, one of which belonged to the clergyman. when he went to church, he used to hang the umbrella up in the porch, to the edification and delight of his parishioners. horace walpole tells how dr. shebbeare (who was prosecuted for seditious writings in ) "stood in the pillory, having a footman holding an umbrella to keep off the rain." for permitting this indulgence to a malefactor, beardman, the under-sheriff, was punished. it is difficult to conceive how the umbrella could come into general use, owing to the state in which the streets of london were up to a comparatively recent period. the same amusing author to whom we owe the description of jonas hanway, gives the following account of them at the time his work was published:-- "it is not easy to convey to a person who has not seen the streets of london before they were uniformly paved, a tolerable idea of their inconvenience and uncleanliness; the signs extending on both sides of the way into the streets, at unequal distances from the houses, that they might not intercept each other, greatly obstructed the view; and, what is of more consequence in a crowded city, prevented the free circulation of the air. the footpaths were universally incommoded--even when they were so narrow as only to admit one person passing at a time--by a row of posts set on edge next the carriage-way. he whose urgent business would not permit of his keeping pace with the gentleman of leisure before him, turned out between the two posts before the door of some large house into the carriage-way. when he perceived danger moving toward him, he wished to return within the protection of the row of posts; but there was commonly a rail continued from the top of one post to that of another, sometimes for several houses together, in which case he was obliged to run back to the first inlet, or climb over, or creep under the railing, in attempting which, he might be fortunate if he escaped with no other injury than what proceeded from dirt; if, intimidated by the danger he escaped, he afterwards kept within the boundary of the posts and railing, he was obliged to put aside the travellers before him, whose haste was less urgent than his, and, these resisting, made his journey truly a warfare. "the french are reproached, even to a proverb, for the neglect of the convenience of foot-passengers in their metropolis, by not providing a separate path for them; but, great as is the exposure to dirt in paris, for want of a footpath, which their many _porte-cochères_ seem likely for ever to prevent, in the more important article of danger, the city of london was, at this period, at least on a par. how comfortless must be the sensations of an unfortunate female, stopped in the street on a windy day under a large old sign loaded with lead and iron in full swing over, her head? and perhaps a torrent of rain and dirty water falling near from a projecting spout, ornamented with the mouth and teeth of a dragon. these dangers and distresses are now at an end; and we may think of them as a sailor does of a storm, which has subsided, but the advantages derived from the present uniformity and cleanliness can be known only in their full extent by comparing them with the former inconveniences." when to this description is added the fact that the hoop petticoat and another article of dress monopolised the whalebone, it will be seen how much had to be got over before an umbrella could be carried out by the citizens of london, as a walking-staff, with satisfactory assurance of protection in case of a shower. the earliest english umbrellas, we must also remember, were made of oiled silk, very clumsy and difficult to open when wet; the stick and furniture were heavy and inconvenient, and the article very expensive. at the end of the century allusions to the umbrella are not infrequent. cowper, in his "task" ( ), twice mentions it, but seems to mean a parasol:-- "we bear our shades about us; self-deprived of other screen, the thin umbrella spread, and range an indian waste without a tree." --b. i. and again:-- "expect her soon, with footboy at her heels, no longer blushing for her awkward load, her train and her umbrella all her care." --b. iv, the rev. g. c. renouard, writing in to notes and queries, says:-- "in the hall of my father's house, at stamford, in lincolnshire, there was, when i was a child, the wreck of a large green silk umbrella, apparently of chinese manufacture, brought by my father from scotland, somewhere between and , and, as i have often heard, the first umbrella seen at stamford. i well remember, also, an amusing description given by the late mr. warry, so many years consul at smyrna, of the astonishment and envy of his mother's neighbours, at sawbridgeworth, in hants, where his father had a country house, when he ran home and came back with an umbrella, which he had just brought from leghorn, to shelter them from a pelting shower which detained them in the church porch, after the service, on one summer sunday. from mr. warry's age at the time he mentioned this, and other circumstances in his history, i conjecture that it occurred not later than or . as sawbridgeworth is so near london, it is evident that even then umbrellas were at that time almost unknown." since this date, however, the umbrella has come into general use, and in consequence numerous improvements have been effected in it. the transition to the present portable form is due, partly to the substitution of silk and gingham for the heavy and troublesome oiled silk, which admitted of the ribs and frames being made much lighter, and also to the many ingenious mechanical improvements in the framework, chiefly by french and english manufacturers, many of which were patented, and to which we purpose presently to allude. chapter iv. the story of the parachute. in giving an account of the umbrella, it would not be right to omit mentioning another, and far from legitimate use in which it has been employed by notoriety-hunting _artistes_--we allude to the parachute; and a short narration of its origin and progress may not be uninteresting to our readers. the parachute commonly in use is nothing more or less than a huge umbrella, presenting a surface of sufficient dimension to experience from the air a resistance equal to the weight of descent, in moving through the fluid at a velocity not exceeding that of the shock which a person can sustain without danger or injury. it is made of silk or cotton. to the outer edge cords are fastened, of about the same length as the diameter of the machine ( to feet). a centre cord is attached to the apex and meets the cords from the margin, acting, in fact, as the stick of the umbrella. the machine is thus kept expanded during descent. the car is fastened to the centre cord, and the whole attached to the balloon in such a manner that it may be readily and quickly detached, either by cutting a string, or pulling a trigger. consequently, in the east, where the umbrella has been from the earliest ages in familiar use, it appears to have been occasionally employed by vaulters, to enable them to jump safely from great heights. father loubère, in his curious account of siam, relates, that a person famous in that country for his dexterity, used to divert the king and court by the extraordinary leaps he took, having two umbrellas with long slender handles, fastened to his girdle. in m. le normand demonstrated the utility of the parachute; by lifting himself down from the windows of a high house at lyons. his idea was that it might be made a sort of fire-escape. blanchard was the first person who constructed a parachute to act as a safety-guard to the aeronaut in case of any accident. during an excursion he made from lille, in , when he traversed, without stopping, a distance of miles, he let down a parachute with a basket fastened to it containing a dog. this he suffered to fall from a great height, and it reached the ground in safety. the first parachute descent from a balloon, however, was made by jacques garnerin, on the nd of october, , in the park of monceau. de la lande, the celebrated astronomer, has furnished a detailed and highly interesting account of this foolish experiment. garnerin resided in london during the short peace of , and made two ascents with his balloon, in the second of which he let himself fall, at an amazing height, with a parachute of feet diameter. he started from an enclosure near north audley street, and descended after having been seven or eight minutes in the air. after cutting himself away, he floated over marylebone and somers town, and fell in a field near st. pancras old church. the oscillation was so great, that he was thrown out of the parachute, and narrowly escaped death. he seemed a good deal frightened, and said that the peril was too great for endurance. one of the stays of the machine having given way, his danger was increased. the next person who tried this dangerous experiment was his niece, eliza garnerin, who descended several times in safety. her parachute had a large orifice in the top, in order to check the oscillation, and this appears to have been tolerably successful. the next experimentalist was a person of the name of cocking, who ended his days in a manner unworthy his talents, through a series of lamentable mistakes. his parachute was constructed on the opposite principle, of a wedge-like form, and was intended to cleave through the air, instead of offering a resistance to it. it has not yet been proved that the principle was wrong, but the defect lay in the weakness of the materials employed in the formation of the parachute. on the th july, , mr. cocking ascended in his new parachute, attached to the great nassau balloon. mr. cocking liberated himself from the balloon, the parachute collapsed and fell, at a frightful rate, into a field near lea, where poor cocking was found with an awful wound on his right temple. he never spoke, but died almost immediately afterwards. it is much to be regretted that the descent was ever allowed to take place. the aeronauts themselves were for some time in a state of imminent peril. immediately the parachute was cut away, the balloon ascended with frightful velocity, owing to the ascending power it necessarily gained by being freed from a weight of nearly pounds; and had it not been that its occupants applied their mouths to the air-bags previously provided, they must have been suffocated by the escaping gas. when the re-action took place, the balloon had lost its buoyancy, and fell, rather than descended, to the ground. mr. hampton was the next person who attempted the experiment, and made three descents in a parachute in succession without injury. undeterred by the awful fate of his predecessor, this gentleman determined on making a parachute descent which should prove the correctness of the theory, and the montpellier gardens at cheltenham were selected as the scene of the exploit. owing to the censure which was attached to the proprietors of the vauxhall gardens, for permitting docking's ascent, the owners of the gardens at cheltenham would not suffer the experiment to be made, and mr. hampton was obliged to have recourse to stratagem. as he was permitted to display his parachute in the manner he intended to use it, the idea suddenly flashed across his mind that, he could carry out his long-nursed wishes. he suddenly cut the rope which kept him down, and went off, to the astonishment of the spectators: the last cheering sound that reached him being--"he will be killed to a dead certainty!" after attaining an altitude of nearly two miles, mr. hampton proceeded to cut the rope that held him attached to the balloon. he paused for a second or two, as he remembered that it would soon be life or death with him, but at length drew his knife across the rope. the first feelings he experienced were both unpleasant and alarming; his eyes and the top of his head appeared to be forced upwards, but this passed off in a few seconds, and his feelings subsequently became pleasant, rather than disagreeable. so steady and slow was the descent that the parachute appeared to be stationary. mr. hampton remembered that a bag of ballast was fastened beneath the car, he stooped over and upset the sand, he also noted by his watch the time he occupied in descending. the earth seemed coming up to him rapidly; the parachute indicated its approach to _terra, firma_ by a slight oscillation, and he presently struck the ground in the centre of a field, where he was first welcomed by a sheep, which stared at this visitor from the clouds in utter amazement. mr. hampton repeated the experiment twice in london, though on both occasions with considerable danger to himself, the first time falling on a tree in kensington gardens, the second on a house, which threw him out of the basket. after this experiment there was a lull in the parachute folly until some twenty years ago, when madame poitevin startled the metropolis from its propriety by her perilous escapes both in life and limb. although considerable ingenuity was displayed in the plan of expanding the parachute by the sudden discharge of gas from the balloon; still the very fact of a woman being exposed to such danger by her husband, will, we trust, hereafter prevent englishmen from countenancing such an exhibition by their presence. chapter v. umbrella stories. who could for a moment suppose that so important an article as the umbrella would be without its lighter as well as its more serious history? umbrellas are still, we regret to say, regarded rather in a comic than a serious light; so, if any of the following anecdotes seem to treat of umbrellas in too mocking or frivolous a vein, it is the fault of the bad taste of the british public, not ours, who have merely compiled. however, we may commence with a very neat little french riddle. "quel est l'objet que l'on recherche le plus quand on s'en dégoûte?" a mysterious inquiry, and all sorts of horrible but needful abominations occur to the mind in answer. but the answer is not so bad after all. change the spelling without altering the pronunciation, and you get _quand on sent des gouties,_ and, lo! you have it at once--le parapluie--the faithful friend whose presence we most desire when we wish least for the necessity of it; the burden of our fine days, the shelter of our wet ones. or again, would you like a verse or two on the same subject? "pour étrenne, on veut à l'envie du frais et du neuf et du beau, je dis que c'est un parapluie, que l'on doit donner en _cas d'eau._" the author of these two _jeux de mots_ unhappily we do not know, or we would thank him for them. the english poet of the umbrella has yet to be born. the next story relates to the early history of the umbrella in scotland, and may probably be referred to the time when good dr. jamieson was walking about glasgow with his new-fangled sheltering apparatus, which he had brought with him on his return from paris. as it was the first ever seen in that city, it attracted universal attention, and a vast amount of impudence from the "horrid boys." the following anecdote, then, which we borrow from a scotch paper, most probably refers to the same period, or thereabouts :-- "when umbrellas were first marched into blairgowrie, they were sported only by the minister and the laird, and were looked upon by the common class of people as a perfect phenomenon. one day daniel m-- went to colonel mcpherson, at blairgowrie house; when about to return, a shower came on, and the colonel politely offered him the loan of an umbrella, which he gladly accepted, and daniel, with his head two or three inches higher than usual, marched off. not long after he had left, however, the colonel again saw daniel posting towards him with all possible haste, still o'ertopped by his cotton canopy (silk umbrellas were out of the question in those days), which he held out, saluting him with--' hae, hae, kornil, this'll never do! there's nae a door in all my house that'll tak it in; my very barn-door winna' tak it in.'" in the veracious "history of sandford and merton," if our memory serves us aright, there is an instance quoted of remarkable presence of mind relating to an umbrella and its owner. the members of a comfortable pic-nic party were cosily assembled in some part of india, when an unbidden and most unwelcome guest made his appearance, in the shape of a huge bengal tiger. most persons would, naturally, have sought safety in flight, and not stayed to hob-and-nob with this denizen of the jungle; not so, however, thought a lady of the party, who, inspired by her innate courage, or the fear of losing her dinner --perhaps by both combined seized her umbrella, and opened it suddenly in the face of the tiger as he stood wistfully gazing upon brown curry and foaming allsop. the astonished brute turned tail and fled, and the lady saved her dinner. not many years ago the umbrella was employed in an equally curious manner, though not so successfully as in the former instance. in the campaign of , general bournonville, who was sent with four commissioners by the national convention to the camp of the prince of saxe-coburg, was detained as a prisoner with his companions, and confined in the fortress of olmütz. in this situation he made a desperate attempt to regain his liberty. having procured an umbrella, he leaped with it from a window forty feet above the ground, but being a very heavy man, it did not prove sufficient to let him down in safety. he struck against an opposite wall, fell into a ditch and broke his leg, and, worse than all, was carried back to his prison. one of the most remarkable instances on record, in which the umbrella was the agency of a man's life being saved, occurred, according to his own statement, to our old friend colonel longbow. of course our kind readers know him as well as we do, for not to do so "would be to argue yourselves unknown." at any continental watering place, longbow, or one of his family--for it is a large one--can be met with. he is, indeed, a wonderful man--on intimate terms with all the crowned heads of europe, and proves his intimacy by always speaking of them by their christian names. he is at once the "guide, philosopher, and friend" of every stranger who happens to form his acquaintance--a very easy task, be it remarked--and, though so great a man, is not above dining at your expense, and charming you by the terms of easy familiarity with which he imbibes your champagne or your porter, for all is alike to him, so long as he has not to pay for it: he can take any given quantity. well, the other day we happened to meet the colonel, and he speedily contrived to discover that we were on the point of going to dine, and so invited him to share our humble meal, as a graceful way of making a virtue of necessity, for had we not done so, he would have had no hesitation in inviting himself. during dinner, conversation, of course, turned upon one all-engrossing subject, the war, and the colonel proceeded to give us his experiences of former wars, including his adventures in the crimea, and the miraculous escape he owed to an umbrella. it appeared that he had gone out with his friend, lord levant, on a yachting excursion in the mediterranean, and they eventually found their way into the black sea. stress of weather compelled them to put into the little port of yalta, on the north coast, where they went on shore. the colonel, on the lucretian principle of "suave mari magno," &c., proceeded the next morning to the verge of the precipice to observe the magnificent prospect of a sea running mountains high. as it was raining at the time, he put up a huge gingham umbrella he happened to find in the hotel. suddenly, however, a furious blast of wind drove across the cliff, and lifted the colonel bodily in the air. away he flew far out to sea, the umbrella acting as a parachute to let him fall easy. now to most men this would only have been a choice of evils, a progress from scylla to charybdis: not so to our colonel. on coming up to the surface after his first dip, he found that swimming would not save him; so he quietly emptied out the water contained in the umbrella, seated himself upon it, and sailed triumphantly into the harbour, like arion on his dolphin. our face, on hearing this anecdote, must have betrayed the scepticism we felt, for the colonel proceeded to a corner of the room, and produced the identical umbrella. of course, such a proof was irresistible, and we were compelled to do penance for our unbelief by lending the gallant colonel a sovereign, for "the bank was closed." we thought the anecdote cheap at the price. there is a story told of one of our city bankers, that he owed an excellent wife to the interposition of an umbrella. it appears that on returning home one day in a heavy shower of rain, he found a young lady standing in his doorway. politeness induced him to invite her to take shelter under his roof, and eventually to offer her the loan of an umbrella. of course, the gallant banker called for it the next day, and the acquaintance thus accidentally made, soon ripened into mutual affection. this species of umbrella courtship has been immortalised in more than one song, none of which, however, are quite worth quoting. a worthy little frenchman of our acquaintance was ordered by his medical man to take a course of shower-baths. such things being unknown to him in his fatherland, he of course found the first essay remarkably unpleasant, but with native ingenuity he soon discovered a remedy. on our asking him how he liked the hydropathic system, he replied, "oh, mais c'est charmant, mon ami; i always take my parapluie wid me into de bath." douglas jerrold, in his well-known "punch's letters to his son," gives an anecdote of which we can only say, si non _è vero, è ben trovato_. it at all events illustrates the frightful morality that exists with regard to borrowing umbrellas. "hopkins once lent simpson, his next-door neighbour, an umbrella. you will judge of the intellect of hopkins, not so much from the act of lending an umbrella, but from his insane endeavour to get it back again. "it poured in torrents, hopkins had an urgent call. hopkins knocked at simpson's door. 'i want my umbrella.' now simpson had also a call in a directly opposite way to hopkins; and with the borrowed umbrella in his hand, was advancing to the threshold. 'i tell you,' roared hopkins, 'i want my umbrella.' 'can't have it,' said simpson. 'why, i want to go to the east-end; it rains in torrents; what'--screamed hopkins--'what am i to do for an umbrella?' "'do!' answered simpson, darting from the door, 'do as i did--borrow one.'" the umbrella has been most successfully introduced on the stage. what, for instance, would paul pry have been without that valuable implement for which to inquire with his stereotyped "hope i don't intrude?" or his french successor, the nobleman in "the grand duchess," who inquires, in plaintive accents, for "le parapluie de ma mere," just after schneider has been declaiming about her father's sabre? merely to bring a big umbrella on the stage is an acknowledged way of raising a laugh. mrs. gamp again, with her receptacle for unconsidered trifles, cannot be realised apart from her umbrella. and then, those hired waiters who come into our houses with an umbrella of graceful proportions, and emerge towards the small hours with a most plethoric parapluie, which looks as if it had been regaling on the good things as well as its master! it used to appear to us a comical sight, years back, in the old city of paris, to see the national guard going to exercise with a musket in one hand and an umbrella in the other, and we dare say it was a very sensible plan after all, and might have been imitated with success before sebastopol. a stout steel umbrella would offer no contemptible shelter to a rifleman. this circumstance, too, may throw a light on a hitherto obscure passage in "macbeth," where birnam wood moves to dunsinane--for it is just possible that the soldiers cut down the branches to serve them as a protection from the rain. we throw out this as a hint to any enterprising manager. in germany, on the other hand, a soldier is--or used to be--strictly forbidden from carrying an open umbrella, unless he is accompanied by a civilian or a lady. a worthy corporal, on one occasion, was sent to fetch an umbrella his major's lady had left at a friend's house, and at the same time took her lapdog for an airing. on the road home a violent shower came on, and, to avoid committing a breach of the regulations, under his arm he tucked the dog, which was contained, according to his ideas, in both the above categories, put up the umbrella, and marched very comfortably to barracks. with one more characteristic anecdote we will close our budget. one evening, while rowland hill was preaching, a shower came on, and his chapel was speedily filled with devotees. with that peculiar sarcastic intonation which none could assume so successfully as himself, he quietly remarked, "my brethren, i have often heard that religion can be made a _cloak_, but this is the first occasion on which i ever knew it could be converted into an _umbrella_." chapter vi. the regeneration of the umbrella. our task is now nearly completed: we have described the history of the parasol, and its near relation the umbrella, as far as our space permits us to treat of this interesting subject. all that remains for us to do is to give an account of the principal improvements effected in the umbrella during later years. it is certain that france was some way ahead of us with regard to the use of umbrellas, for they were comparatively common there before they were at all known _l'autre côté 'de la manche_. this was but natural, considering that they were, as we have seen, used in italy, and consequently the folk of southern france would not be likely to be far behind their neighbours in availing themselves of the protection from the sun, whether or no they had sufficient genius to shelter themselves from the rain by the aid of an umbrella. in france parasols and umbrellas used to be amongst the articles made by the corporate body of boursiers. m. natalis rondot quotes from the _journal du citoyen_, of , the price of parasols. it ranged from s. _d_. to s. _d_., according to the construction, and to whether they were made to fold up or not. in diderot and d'alembert's encyclopédic, is figured an umbrella, which is described as follows, in the excellent introduction to the "abridgements of specifications relating to umbrellas," lately published by the commissioners of patents:-- "the ribs bear about the same proportion (as in modern umbrellas) as regards length, to the stick, but the stretchers are much shorter, being less than a quarter of the length of the ribs. they are double, each rib having a pair joined, one on each side of the rib, at the same point. the ribs are joined at the top by being strung on a ring, as in old english umbrellas, but the runner is made of precisely similar construction to the modern runner, and seems almost identical with that described in caney's specification (patent no. , a.d. ). ribs and sticks are jointed, the latter in two places. there is no catch to hold the umbrella closed, but this upper catch is the ordinary bent wire one. the upper joint of the stick is made with a screw, the lower of a hinge with a slide, as in a modern parasol. the slide has a catch, resembling the ordinary runner catch. at the top is a ring for carrying or suspending the umbrella." such was the old french umbrella, and that used in england was of much the same sort. the old french folding parasol is thus described in the "report of the jurors for the exhibition of :"-- "the folding parasol was constructed with jointed ribs so as to fold back, and was likewise self-opening. the rod was a metallic tube, and contained a spiral spring which acted upon and pressed upwards an inner rod. to this inner rod were jointed the stretchers, which in this construction were placed above the ribs instead of below, as in the ordinary form, beside which they were much shorter, so as to admit of their being concealed by the covering. by the elasticity of the spiral spring contained in the hollow stem, the inner rod was pressed outwards and lifted the stretchers, and by their means raised the ribs also, so that in its ordinary or natural state the umbrella was always open, and would continue so unless constrained to remain closed by a catch. on releasing the catch it consequently sprang open. in order that it might be easily closed, four cords were attached to four of the ribs and passed to the handle; and a loop embracing these cords passed down by the side of the handle, and enabled the possessor to close his umbrella without difficulty. from the authority already quoted, we learn that whalebone was employed for the ribs, and that their number varied with their length; for example, when inches long the number employed was ; when inches, ; and when , and inches, were used. calico was employed to cover umbrellas, and silk to cover parasols. the use of parasols was common in lyons at that period ( ); they were carried by men as well as women; they were rose-coloured, white, and of other colours, and were so light as to be carried without inconvenience." the "encyclopedic méthodique" gives some interesting particulars as to the manufacture of parasols and umbrellas at the end of the eighteenth century. from it, it appears that the ribs were occasionally made of metal. "on étend cette couverture portative par le moyen de quelques brins de baleine, ou de fils de cuivre ou de fer qui la soutiennent." this is interesting, as showing that metal ribs are not a very modern invention. the following statement of the comparative weights and sizes of umbrellas was prepared by m. farge for the french exposition of :-- umbrellas length of ribs. weight, of inches. lb. oz. / / / / / / / from to , eighty patents were taken out in france for inventions, three of importation, and forty-one for improvements in umbrellas. in england, after their first introduction, the manufacture of umbrellas increased rapidly. the first patent is dated , and was taken up by mark bull for "a machine for supporting an umbrella, which may be fixt to any saddle or wheel'd carriage, being far more compleat than any hitherto invented." the invention is described in the following words :-- "there is a ball and socket of steel or iron, or any other metal or composition. the ball moves in any direction, and is fixed by one, two, three, or more points, which are forced against it either by a screw or spring, the ball is made with small cavities to receive the points which press against it. in order to secure it the more effectually in the ball, there is a hole which receives the one end of the staff of the umbrella, which is secured in it either by a spring or screw, or a sliding or a spring bolt. the umbrella may be taken away from the staff; and either put under the seat of the saddle, or fix'd before the rider. the staff may be made whole or in two pieces, the one to slide within the other, in order to raise or lower the umbrella, and be fix'd either by a spring or screw. they are fix'd in the head of the saddle and cover'd by a top, without making the saddle appear in the least different to what they are now made." the next is of the date of , and was taken out by john beale for "an umbrella with joints, flat springs, and stops, worm springs and bolts, slip bolts, screws, slip rivet, and cross stop and square slips, and the manner in which the same are performed is particularly described in the several plans, figures, or drawings annexed." the drawings referred to are not easily intelligible, from the briefness of the explanation attached, but show an umbrella with a jointed handle, opening by a spring. in the next year ( ) we find an advertisement put out by thomas folgham, of cheapside, stating that he has "a great assortment of his much-approved pocket and portable umbrellas, which for lightness, elegance, and strength, far exceed anything of the kind ever imported or manufactured in this kingdom. all kinds of common umbrellas prepared in a particular way, that will never stick together." a description of the umbrellas which, in all probability, mr. thomas folgham made, we extract from the source mentioned above. "the early umbrellas were made of oiled silk, or glazed cotton cloth, and were very cumbrous and inconvenient. to judge from a picture of hanway, and from the other old pictures mentioned above, they were small, with a very long handle. they were not used for walking, and consequently instead of the ferrule had a ring at the top, by which they were hung up. the stretchers were of cane, and the ribs of cane or whalebone. instead of the present top-notch and runner, both ribs and stretchers were simply strung on a ring of wire, and the inequality of the friction and the weakness of such an arrangement cause the umbrella to be always getting out of order. the ribs and stretchers were jointed together very roughly, by a pin passing through the rib, on which the forked end of the stretcher hinged. the first improvement in this respect was by caney (patent no. , a.d. ), who invented a top-notch and runner in which each rib or stretcher has a separate hinge. the top-notch was made of a notched wheel or disc, into each slot of which an axis fixed on the top of the stretchers worked. the runner was made on a similar principle. at the point of the rib where the stretcher joined it, caney fixed a middle bit, consisting of a small fork, in which the end of the stretcher was hinged. this construction was much stronger, and the forked ends of the stretchers were thus prevented from wearing out the cover, as before. with modifications, more or less important, this construction is the same as that now in general use." the principal object of all those who have devoted their attention to the task has been to reduce the weight of the umbrella without, at the same time, diminishing its strength. in its primitive form the ribs were formed of whalebone, which possessed very grave inconveniences; in the first place, it was cumbersome to a degree, lost its elasticity after any continuous exposure to rain, and if dried without very great care, was extremely liable to crack. in the next place, the price was very high, and, consequently, the masses remained unrepresented in the umbrella market. the most important improvement dates from the introduction of steel instead of whalebone, which took place about thirty years ago, for although a few umbrellas were occasionally made and used of this material prior to that time, it had not come into general use. amongst other improvements have been the following:-- the tips are now made in one piece with the rib, instead of being made of bone, japanned metal or other material, and then fastened on. the long six-inch runners have given way to the short one two inches long, and the ferrules are also much shorter than formerly. to keep the umbrella closed the old-fashioned plan was a ring fastened by a string. a tape and cotton superseded this, and in its turn gave way to the elastic now in use. sliding caps to fit over the ends of the ribs and hold the umbrella closed, have been invented, but until quite recently do not seem to have come much into use. simple as the construction of an umbrella may appear, there have been altogether upwards of three hundred patents taken out for various improvements in their manufacture, in addition to numerous alterations which have been registered according to the act, vic. & , cap. . with very few exceptions the inventors have not been repaid the cost of their patents. this has arisen, partly from the delicacy of their mechanical construction, unfitted for the rough usage to which umbrellas are exposed; but chiefly in consequence of the increased cost of manufacture not being compensated by the improvements effected. the introduction of steel vice whalebone, was opposed by the trade and the public in general, like many other great improvements; and it required several years in order to convince purchasers that steel would not only last much longer than whalebone, but would not be so liable to break, provided it was properly made and tempered. the misfortune was that, at the outset, a great number of inferior articles were introduced, and consequently the public naturally lost confidence, and it demanded great exertions on the part of the more respectable members of the trade, ere the merits of the new invention were recognised. at present, it is generally allowed that a good steel-rib umbrella can be as easily procured as a carefully tempered razor or sword. a swiss watch-spring maker, named sanguinede, had discovered a secret of tempering steel which gave it great strength, and he had made some, very light umbrellas, but they were immensely dear. on his death the secret died with him, and mr. fox set to work to discover a method which should combine strength and lightness. mr. fox's paragon frame, simple in its construction, half the weight of whalebone, but equally strong, is admitted to be the greatest improvement yet introduced in the manufacture of an umbrella. the ribs are made in the form of a trough with flat sides, by which shape the greatest amount of strength is obtained. the same principle, as is well known, has been successfully applied in the construction of the great tubular bridge over the menai straits, from which mr. fox took the idea. the weight of the umbrella having been thus reduced, the next question was, whether some amendment could not be made in the covering material. for a long time, umbrellas were only covered with two materials--silk and cotton, and the want of some substance, which would resist the greater friction and consequent wear than an umbrella invariably undergoes, formed a subject of anxious attention to the writer of this little book. several materials were tried without success, until a fabric called alpaca, made of the wool of the chilian and peruvian sheep, presented itself, and for this a patent was immediately taken out. of its merits it becomes us not to speak, but we may be permitted to quote the following remarks from the grand jury report of the great exhibition of :-- "sangster, william and john. prize medal for silk parasols and umbrellas of excellent quality, 'and for their application of alpaca cloth to the coverings of parasols and umbrellas." to the above flattering testimonial the following remarks were appended:-- "alpaca cloth is made of undyed wool of the peruvian and chili sheep, and it is therefore is not liable to fade, nor is it acted upon by salt water; hence alpaca parasols and umbrellas are much used at watering-places. "the demand for the paragon umbrella is so great, that the patentee is able to supply them at a price not much exceeding the ordinary sorts. the frames are guaranteed for two years, but in consequence of the superior quality of the article, the number found to require repair is much less than the average of other kinds. in the course of the two years succeeding their introduction, upwards of , paragon umbrellas mere sold. "nor was the progress of the alpaca umbrella less cheering. though the material is in some respects inferior to silk, it has been found to wear so much longer, and to cost so much less, that its use is now becoming general among that numerous class with whom economy and an umbrella are equally indispensable. the sale of alpaca umbrellas, in the year , amounted to upwards of , ." since this time w. & j. s. have sold, under their patent, umbrellas to the number of nearly four millions. these facts we will leave to our readers to draw their own inference from; but the very kind reception which the alpaca umbrellas have hitherto received, justifies us in asserting, that no material has yet been brought forward which has so thoroughly fulfilled the required conditions. the weight of the umbrella has also been diminished, and, last not least, the price has decreased in a corresponding ratio. this latter fact is of the very greatest importance, when we remember the immense quantity of parasols and umbrellas manufactured during the year in london, and estimated at the enormous value of , pounds. in addition, a very great number are made in manchester and birmingham. to those who wish to keep their umbrellas safe and sound, we may commend the following extract from cassell's _household guide_:-- "umbrellas are articles which generally suffer more from careless treatment than from legitimate wear and tear; an umbrella, when properly treated, will last twice as long as one that is not so used. when wet, an umbrella should neither be distended to dry, which will strain the ribs and covering, and prevent its ever afterwards folding up neatly, nor at once rolled and tied up, which would tend to rust the frame and rot the textile fabric; neither should it, if of silk, be carelessly thrust into an umbrella-stand, nor allowed to rest against a wall, which would probably discolour, and certainly crease the silk injuriously. it should be shut, but not tied up, and hung from the handle, with the point downwards, till it is nearly, but not quite dry. it should then be neatly and carefully rolled up and tied. in walking with an umbrella, the hands should be confined to the handle, and not allowed to grasp the silk; otherwise that portion which is held will become greased and discoloured, and the material will be frayed out round the tips, which are points where there is always much stress, and where if will always have a tendency to give way. when not in use, the umbrella should be protected from dust and injury of any kind by its silk or oilcloth case. when dirty, alpaca umbrellas are best cleaned with a clothes-brush; but brushing is useless for those of silk. ordinary dirt may be removed from a silk umbrella by means of a clean sponge and cold water, or if the soil should be so tenacious that this will not remove it, a piece of linen rag, dipped in spirits of wine or unsweetened gin, will generally effect the desired end." having thus given our readers all the information on the subject in our power; even down to the last quoted paragraph, which may teach them how to preserve their umbrellas, we may wish them a hearty farewell, hoping they may--long live to use these promoters of comfort and of health, and that they may always be as well shielded by fate from the metaphorical tempests of life, as they are from its physical storms by a good modern umbrella. finis generously made available by the internet archive/american libraries.) nicotiana; or the smoker's and snuff-taker's companion; containing the history of tobacco; culture--medical qualities and the laws relative to its importation and manufacture: with an essay in its defence. the whole elegantly embellished and interspersed with original poetry and anecdotes, being intended as an amusing and instructive volume for all genuine lovers of the herb, by henry james meller, esq. "i do assert and will affirm it before any prince in europe, to be the most sovereign and precious weed that ever the earth tendered to the use of man." _captain bobadil.--every man in his humour._ london: effingham wilson, royal exchange. . to h. r. h. the duke of sussex, this little work, as a trifling token of veneration for his character and esteem for his taste, is most respectfully inscribed. preface. many an excellent cause has been lost through the want of sound arguments, founded on a knowledge of the case, to support and place it in its proper light. none, perhaps, more than _smoking_ and _snuff-taking_, the propriety of which, in the upper orders of life, have been and are, whether as regards their social or medicinal qualities, so frequently called in question by their enemies. these, the author is sorry to say, by the use of a few specious arguments, that chiefly pass current in refined society--the ladies in particular--have, strongly aided by prejudice, often made the defence succumb to the attack--an unpardonable weakness on the part of a _consumer_ of the herb, who is naturally enough expected to know the entire history of the favorite of his adoption. unacquainted with the excellence of his subject, its importance and consequence in ancient and modern annals--its high worshippers and eulogists, medical, and non-medical, with its many endearing and social virtues acknowledged over the far greater part of the world; he, the author asserts, unacquainted with the above _data_ and references, opposes but a feeble barrier to the sweeping and general assertions of his adversary. in the above glorious cause (i. e. anti-smokers and snuff-takers v. lovers of the herb) the author himself holds a brief in the defence as counsel, and flattering himself he has made himself fully master of the case, he begs to impart it as a proper, if not an absolutely requisite accompaniment to all lovers of the 'soothing leaf.' the prejudices against smoking are numerous. smoking that is called _unsocial_, the author affirms to be the common source of harmony and comfort,--the badge of good fellowship in almost every state, kingdom, and empire. aye, from the english settlers in the wildernesses of america, where the _calumet_ or pipe of peace is smoked by the natives, to the turbaned infidel of the east--from the burning zone of africa to the icy regions of the north. in fact, in almost every clime and condition of society it is known as a common sign, or freemasonry of friendly feeling and social intercourse. in the east, the first act of hospitality is proffering the pipe with its invariable accompaniment coffee, which is more or less observed under various modifications over nearly the rest of the habitable world. smoking that is termed _low_ and _vulgar_ was, and is, an occasional recreation with most of the crowned heads of europe, among which may be named his late majesty, and their royal highnesses the dukes of sussex and cumberland--ferdinand of spain, and the emperor nicholas of germany--besides very many of the nobility of either empires and kingdoms. smoking that is termed _idle_, is singularly popular with mechanics, the most industrious classes of england. smoking that is said to be _dirty_ and _filthy_, is in the greatest esteem, among the most moral and cleanly sect in christianity--the society of friends or quakers. smoking that is affirmed to be _revolting_ and _disgusting_, is indulged in by the most rigidly kept women in the world--those of turkey, who elevated in the dignity of the haram, are taught to consider a whiff of their lord's _chibouque_ a distinction. then the ladies of both old and new spain, who twining in the mazes of the giddy waltz, take the _cigarros_ from their own pretty lips to transfer to those of their favoured partners. if indeed, royalty be wanted in the female line, since the good old times of elizabeth, who can be so lamentably ignorant in the annals of smoking, as not to know, that the late _tumehemalee_, queen consort of _tirahee_, king of the sandwich islands, was dotingly fond of a pipe--sensible woman and above all petty prejudices as she was, at our own honoured court. now, in regard to snuff, that like smoking is so much abused, coming under the bans of the ignorant and prejudiced, _beastly_ is the word commonly given to its application, though used to the greatest excess in the famed land of _politesse_--france. the most polished and fascinating address is ever followed by the gracefully proffered snuff-box. what a vast deal does it not speak at once in a man's favor, begetting instantly a friendly sympathy in the head that gradually extends to the heart. what does not moliere, their favorite author say, in favor of the herb? for the benefit of casuists we quote the sublime panegyric, which alone ought to confirm the bold lovers of the pipe and box, and 'inspire and fire' the diffident and wavering. "quoi que puisse dire aristote, et toute la philosophie, il n'est rien d'égal au tabac; c'est la passion des honnêtes gens, et qui vit sans tabac, n'est pas digne de vivre. non seulement il réjouit et purge les cerveaux humains, mais encore il instruit les ames à la vertu et l'on apprend avec lui à devenir honnête homme. ne voyez-vous pas bien, dès qu'on en prend, de quelle manière obligeante on en use avec tout le monde, et comme on est ravi d'en donner à droit et à gauche, par tout où l'on se trouve? on n'attend pas même que l'on en demande, et l'on court au devant du souhait des gens; tant il est vrai que le tabac inspire des sentimens d'honneur et de vertu à tous ceux qui en prennent." the pipe and the box are twin-brothers; they are the agents of friendship, conviviality, and mirth; they succour the distressed, and heal the afflicted; impartial and generous, they administer to all that sue for comfort, and the spirits of peace advance at their call; they live in charity with all men, unite them, and re-unite them, and they sympathise all hearts, entwining them in a cheerful and lasting community of soul and sentiment. the pipe and the box give a vigour to the mind, and a language to its ideas. they give harmony a tone, and discord a silence. they inspire the bold, and encourage the diffident. yes! through their agency alone, all these benefits are received and experienced. in short, they express in one breath, superlative happiness. a few illustrations will suffice: a man in public company wishing to give utterance to some particular opinion or sentiment, invariably finds the pipe or the pinch the best prompter. a man wishing to be silent, in meditation finds the pipe his excuser. a man in anger with himself, his family, or the public, the pipe or the pinch will generally restore to kindness. a man desirous of meeting a friend, need but give him a "pinch," and the heart is at once opened to his reception. a man in misfortune, either in sickness or in circumstances, will learn philosophy from the pipe, and count upon the latter, at least, as his own: in this case, from both tobacco and snuff, he borrows an independent vigour, and a cheerfulness that shines even in the sadness of his heart. the impregnative spirit of tobacco will wind its way to the most secret recesses of the brain, and impart to the imagination a soft and gentle glow of heat, equally remote from the dullness of fervor, and the madness of intoxication; for to these two extremes, without the moderative medium of the pipe, an author's fancy will alternately expand itself. to the man of letters, therefore, the pipe is a sovereign remedy. amongst the incidental benefits of the pipe and box, may also be noticed their great advantages in a converzatione; they smooth the arrogance of an apostrophe, and soften the virulence of a negative, give strength to an ejaculation, and confidence to a whisper. in short, they extract the sting, and purify the spirit, which are too frequently inhering concomitants, in the common associations of life. in conclusion, fully impressed with the sovereign consequence of his subject, the author taketh his leave of the reader with the assurance, if his labours meet their due object, _viz._ imparting of the entire history of the much-aspersed, yet idolized herb, to its votaries, it will give him infinite pleasure. should he not be so fortunate in upholding by that means,-- ----the grand cause, i smokes--i snuffs--i chaws,-- philosophy still offers him consolation for the degeneracy of the times, in a pinch of _lundyfoot_, or the fumes of his merschaum. _newington, oct. ._ contents. page invocation to tobacco the history of the importation of the tobacco plant into europe, and the origin of smoking in england on snuff and the origin of the lundyfoot select poetry: tobacco snuff thou art a charm for winter all nations honour thee walton and cotton on a pipe of tobacco my last cigar a review of the laws and regulations concerning tobacco the importance of smoking and snuff-taking, exemplified in a grave dissertation, dedicated to the youth of the rising generation the medical qualities of tobacco botanical history and culture of the tobacco plant original poetry. new words to an old tune ode on tobacco stanzas to a lady the last quid anecdotes divans mems. for smokers invocation to tobacco. weed of the strange pow'r, weed of the earth, killer of dullness-- parent of mirth; come in the sad hour, come in the gay, appear in the night, or in the day: still thou art welcome as june's blooming rose, joy of the palate, delight of the nose. weed of the green field, weed of the wild, foster'd in freedom,-- america's child; come in virginia, come in havannah, friend of the universe, sweeter than manna: still thou art welcome, rich, fragrant, and ripe. pride of the tube-case, delight of the pipe. weed of the savage, weed of each pole, comforting,--soothing,-- philosophy's soul; come in the snuff-box, come in cigar, in strasburg and king's, come from afar: still thou art welcome, the purest, the best, joy of earth's millions, for ever carest! nicotiana. the history of the importation of the tobacco plant into europe, and the origin of smoking in england. the earth, perhaps, has never offered to the use of man a herb, whose history and adoption offer so varied a subject for thought and the mind's speculation, as tobacco. in whatever light we view it, there is something to interest the botanist, the physician, the philosopher, and even the historian, while, from the singularity of its discovery in a corner of the world where it had remained so long concealed, it would almost seem intended by providence, to answer some especial purpose in the creation. few things ever created a greater sensation than it did, on its first introduction into europe. it was adopted with an avidity, so far from decreasing with time, that the experience of nearly three centuries has but rendered it universal. that the habits of snuffing, and smoking, are not beneficial to the human constitution, has been asserted as a fact by many _savans_, and more powerfully defended by others. probably, after all, the most singular thing in favour of these habits is, that the practice of them, which should perfect our knowledge, advocates so strongly their use as agreeable stimulants, promoting cheerfulness, and mild and gentle in their operation when not adopted to too great an extent. this will be found the belief among the most enlightened, as well as the millions who echo its praises, from every clime and corner of the habitable globe. the precise introduction of the tobacco plant into europe, from the varied and contradictory accounts that exist concerning it, is involved in some obscurity. that it was unknown to the europeans, till the discovery of south america by that indefatigable voyager columbus, is certain; although don ulloa,[ ] a spaniard, and a writer of celebrity in the last century, would fain have shown that the plant was indigenous to several parts of asia; as china, persia, turkey, and arabia. he asserts, with some ingenuity we grant, that the plant was known and used in smoking in those countries, long previous to the discovery of the new world. but, as the old testament and the koran, books that treated of the most trifling eastern customs, make not the slightest mention of it, and more especially as no travellers have ever recorded its existence previous to the discovery of america, we cannot but dismiss the supposition, for want of data, as idle in the extreme. although we cannot, with the powers of observation columbus is said to have possessed, but imagine the plant must have been known to him, particularly as it was so popular among the natives, yet no mention is made of that fact or of its introduction into spain by him. on the contrary, one account furnished us, attributes it to hernandez de toledo, and another with a greater show of probability to fernando cortes. this latter adventurer, after the death of his great and ill-fated predecessor, succeeded to the command of a flotilla to prosecute those researches in the new world, as it was then called, that promised such an influx of wealth to the nation. it was in the year that cortes, flushed with the sanguine expectations of an ambitious people, set out to take possession, in the name of the spanish sovereignty, of a country whose treasures were deemed boundless. coasting along for several days, he came to a part of the shore of a very rich and luxuriant description, which induced him to come to anchor, and land; the natives asserting that it abounded in gold and silver mines. this place was a province of _yucatan_ in the mexican gulf, called _tobaco_, the place from whence tobacco is supposed to have derived its present name. there it was that the plant was discovered, in a very thriving and flourishing state. among the natives who held it in the greatest possible esteem and reverence, from the almost magical virtues they attached to it, it was called _petun_, and by those in the adjoining islands _yoli_. so singular a production of the country could not but draw the attention of the spanish commander to it. the consequence was, that a specimen of it was shipped home with other curiosities of the country, with a long detail of its supposed astonishing virtues, in pharmacy. in the latter end of the year the plants arrived at their destination, and this may fairly be deemed to have been their first entry into the civilized portion of the world. a dreadful disease, first brought from america by the last return of columbus, raged about this period with a fearful and unchecked virulency in spain, committing dreadful devastations on the human frame, and finally ending in the most horrible death imagination could picture. this circumstance served to procure it a most sanguine welcome; for the sailors composing the fleet, having learnt it from the natives, had disseminated the belief, that it was the only known antidote against its ravages,--that it in fact answered the purposes of mercury in the present day, a belief welcomed with enthusiasm, and ending in despair. no sooner, however, was its inefficacy perceived, than it sunk in the estimation of its worshippers, as low as it previously had risen. indeed, into such obscurity did it fall after the hopes it had vainly excited, that nearly forty years elapsed, ere it obtained any notice worth commemorating. at about the end of that period, however, we find that it had regained the ground it had previously lost, on a surer and better footing, as a soothing and gentle stimulant. from spain, the plant was carried into portugal; and from thence, gradually exported to the different kingdoms throughout europe. shortly after this, it was sent to the east, where it soon came into notice, as a narcotic, and consequently found a ready market. peculiar facilities at this time too presented themselves to the spaniards, above every other nation; for vasco de gama, another of its adventurers, had discovered and explored a great portion of the countries lying beyond the cape of good hope. among other articles, exchanged in the way of commerce with the natives, was tobacco: and this, despite of the reasoning of don ulloa mentioned some time back, was the first channel through which hindostan, arabia, and china, received the plants, now so common throughout the whole of the eastern empire. this occurred about the year , shortly after it had been carried into france and italy. while the nations of the peninsula were thus distinguishing themselves, and in the meridian of their glory, extending their discoveries, conquests, and trade to the furthermost parts of that world which they had opened to the eyes of astonished europe, england, for a time, was incapacitated from pursuing a similar course by intestine broils and factions at home. and even when elizabeth ascended the throne, her naturally enterprising and ambitious spirit was almost solely confined to arranging domestic discords, and settling foreign quarrels. sir humphrey gilbert, a plain blunt soldier, instigated by feelings of emulation and national enterprise, was the first to direct the attention of the maiden queen towards the benefits that would naturally result from planting a british colony in america. at his request a patent was granted, empowering him to plant and colonize some of the southern districts. he accordingly fitted out a squadron at his own expense, and proceeded on his voyage, which, from different circumstances that occurred, miscarried. a similar fate attended two subsequent attempts, when sir humphrey's half-brother, the after-celebrated sir walter ralegh or raleigh, as it is now spelt, returned home from the wars in the netherlands. inspired by a restless ambition that ever distinguished this great man, he succeeded in persuading the knight to undertake a fourth voyage, offering to accompany him himself. combining courage, enterprise, and perseverance, with a degree of knowledge little known at the period we treat of, few men were better qualified for the successful execution of such an enterprise than raleigh. the sequel proved the truth of this remark, newfoundland was discovered and taken; though the original gallant projector, sir humphrey gilbert, we have recorded, was drowned on his passage home. in the year , sir walter raleigh applied for the renewal of the letters patent in his own name, which the queen immediately granted him. having fitted out a squadron, he put to sea, and after a somewhat tedious voyage, discovered wingandacoa, which he afterwards called _virginia_, in honor of elizabeth. on his return, he was received with peculiar favour by the queen, who testified her satisfaction by making him a knight, while she lent a willing ear towards the colonizing schemes sir walter opened to her aspiring view. in pursuance of some of these, sir richard grenville, another relation of sir walter raleigh's, was sent out with captain lane, whom he left in command of one hundred men in one of the southern districts of the country, appointing him at the same time to act as governor; and promising to return to him before the next spring with stores and fresh provisions. circumstances, that have never yet been properly explained to this day, prevented sir richard from keeping his word, in consequence of which, the colony was reduced to great distress. shortly afterwards, taking the advantage of sir francis drake's return from the spanish wars, they embarked on board his ships for england, where they arrived in the month of july, a. d. , with their commander, lane. among the specimens of the productions and peculiarities of the country, they brought with them that which forms our subject, the tobacco plant. this, by some, is said to have been its first importation into great britain; lobel, however, asserts, it was cultivated here in , a statement plausible enough, we admit, considering the previous length of time the plant had been known in spain and portugal, but yet irreconcileable with the data our own historical research gives us. that it might indeed have been introduced from france previous to its importation from virginia, and cultivated in trifling quantities, is highly probable, inasmuch as the french date its first appearance among them in , just ten years previous to lobel's affirmation. _linnæus_ likewise mentions that the plant became known in europe the same year the french date from, and _humboldt_ so far corroborates him, as to state that seeds of it were received from yucatan in . that it was known in france, some years previous to its being carried into england, from the above accounts handed down to us, we cannot doubt. the french history of the importation of the plant into their country, attributes it to _jean nicot_ of nismes, who was their ambassador at the court of lisbon in the reign of francis ii. some of the seed, we are informed, was given him by a dutchman, who had brought it with him from florida. this, we imagine, must have been shortly after it had begun to regain notice in spain. impressed with the current account of its properties as a medicine and luxurious stimulant, he sent a portion of it home, where it arrived, and under high court patronage soon became popular. in england--and we shall now proceed to note our own accounts of the subject,--the first importer is very commonly thought to have been sir walter raleigh, who is said to have brought it from virginia in --a period when the tobacco plant was known throughout nearly the whole of europe, while whole fields of it were cultivated for commerce in spain and portugal. if it is to be attributed to an englishman, few possess a better claim to the honor than sir francis drake, as he had made several voyages to the _new_ world in - - , ere raleigh had undertaken his first. this idea is exactly in accordance, too, with the dates furnished us by _lobel_, _linnæus_ and _humboldt_. independent of this strong circumstantial evidence, bomare[ ] and camden[ ] both attribute its first appearance to him,--authority not to be disputed for a moment. that sir walter was the first distinguished individual that set the fashion of smoking, we have recorded, although this, we are again told, was taught him by the notorious ralph lane, whose adventure, we have a page or too back slightly touched upon. lane had himself learnt the habit, from the virginians, and having brought several of their pipes home with him, communicated it to raleigh, who indulged in it greatly, as a pleasant pastime. it was during one of his pleasing reveries under the soothing influence of the pipe, that the well-known anecdote is said to have occurred of a lacquey drenching him with water, supposing from the smoke he saw issuing from his nose and mouth that he was internally on fire. to such a degree, indeed, did he adopt and set the fashion of smoking, that he was frequently in the habit of giving entertainments to his friends, in which the fare consisted of pipes of tobacco, and ale seasoned with nutmegs--a somewhat curious origin of smoking-parties, or divans, in england. the result was, the example of a man so justly celebrated and popular was soon imitated by the court, and in the course of years gradually became common among the lower orders of people. elizabeth, notwithstanding her strong and powerful mind, possessed the sex's natural vanity and love of novelty to a great degree, and would seem to have very warmly patronized the custom; some writers of the period have gone as far as to affirm, in her own person. we are further borne out in this statement by the authority of the _biographia britannica_, that the _ladies_ of the court indulged in smoking the fragrant herb, as well as the noblemen and gentle men. that the queen therefore set a personal example, is by no means so strange. what a striking contrast does this afford, in regard to the taste expressed by the sex in the present day towards tobacco! in reference to the nomenclature of the tobacco plant, like that of most things handed down to posterity, it admits of many versions. as we have previously observed in america, it was termed among the natives, _petun_ and _yoli_, besides other barbarous names, probably each appellation peculiar to a different tribe. on the appearance of the plant in england, it received the name it is still recognized by, namely, tobacco. this word, by some writers, is supposed to have had its derivation from _tobago_ in the west indies, while others assert it is derived from _tobaco_, a different place altogether; which latter, from its closer approximation to the word _tobacco_, we cannot but imagine correct. in botany it is more particularly known under the scientific appellation of _herba nicotiana_, so named on its introduction into france, in compliment to her ambassador, _jean nicot of nismes_, from whom it was received. it was also well known under the imposing titles of _herba reginæ catharinæ medicæ_, and _herba reginæ_: the first given in honor of the queen, and the latter of a grand prior of the house of lorraine, both of whom were the first receivers of the plant, and fostered it on account of the many virtues it was supposed to be possessed of in pharmacy. in different countries its names were various. in italy at that time it was called _st. crucis_, taken from _st. croix_, an apostolic legate who brought it into the country, somewhere in the middle of the th century. the dutch call it taboc, or _taboco_, indifferently. some of the german writers describe it under the name of the _holy_ or the _indian healing herb--heilig wundkraut_, or _indianisch wundkraut_. in most other countries _tobac_ or _tabac_ prevails. notwithstanding the extreme popularity that attended the introduction of the plant generally throughout europe, there were not wanting those sovereigns who testified an antipathy at first to the tobacco plant, little short of that, for which king james was afterwards remarkable--of whom we shall have occasion to speak anon. amurath the fourth forbade its introduction in any form whatever within his dominions under very severe penalties. the czar of muscovy and the king of persia issued edicts of a similar nature, while pope urban the eighth made a bull to excommunicate all those who took tobacco into churches. on snuff and the origin of the lundy foot. jove once resolv'd, the females to degrade, to propagate their sex without their aid; his brain conceiv'd, and soon the pangs and throes he felt nor car'd the unnatural birth disclose: at last when tried no remedy could do, the god took _snuff_ and out the goddess flew. joe miller. snuff was manufactured and consumed in great quantities in france, long previous to its adoption in england. for the account of its being introduced to great britain we are indebted to the once celebrated[ ] charles lillie. before the year , when we sent out a fleet of ships under the command of sir george rook, with land forces commanded by the duke of ormond, in order to make a descent on cadiz, _snuff-taking_ was very rare, and indeed very little known in england; it being chiefly a luxurious habit among foreigners residing here, and a few english gentry, who had travelled abroad. among these, the mode of taking snuff was with pipes the size of quills out of small spring boxes. these pipes let out a very small quantity of snuff, upon the back of the hand, and this was snuffed up the nostrils with the intention of producing the sensation of sneezing, which we need not say forms now no part of the design, or rather fashion of snuff-taking. but to return to our cadiz expedition by sea. when the fleet arrived near cadiz, our land forces were disembarked at a place called port st. mary, where after some fruitless attempts, it was resolved to embark the troops, and set sail for england. but previous to this, the port and several adjacent places were plundered. there, besides some very rich merchandize, plate, jewels, pictures, and a great quantity of cochineal, several thousand barrels and casks of fine snuffs were taken, which had been manufactured in different parts of spain. each of these contained four tin canisters of snuff of the best growth, and of the finest manufacture. with this plunder on board (which fell chiefly to the share of the land officers), the fleet was returning to england; but on the way, it was resolved to pay a visit to vigo, a considerable port in spain, where the admiral had advice that a number of galleons from the havannah richly laden had put in: here, our fleet got in and destroyed the greater part of the spanish shipping, and the plunder was exceedingly rich and valuable. it now came to the turn of the sea-officers and sailors to be snuff proprietors and merchants; for at vigo they again became possessed of prodigious quantities of gross snuff from the havannah in bales, bags, and scrows,[ ] which were designed for sale in different parts of spain. thus, though snuff was very little known, as we have here remarked at that period, the quantities taken in this expedition, which were estimated at fifty tons weight, plainly show that in the other countries of europe, snuff was held in great estimation, and that the taking of it was not at all unfashionable. the fleet having returned to england, and most of the ships been put out of commission, the officers and sailors brought their snuff--called by way of victorious distinction--"vigo snuffs," to a very quick and cheap market: waggon loads being sold at portsmouth, plymouth, and chatham, for not more than _d._ per lb. the purchasers were chiefly spanish jews, who in the present case, bought up almost the whole quantity at considerable advantage. the land officers who were possessed of the finer kinds of snuff, taken at port st. mary, had sold considerable portions at the ports where they had touched on their homeward voyage. others, however, we are told, better understood the nature of the commodity which had fallen to their share, and kept it for several years; selling it off by degrees for very high prices. from the above-mentioned quantities of different snuffs, thus distributed throughout the kingdom, novelty being quickly caught in england, arose the custom and fashion of snuff-taking; and growing upon the nation by degrees, they are now as common here, as almost in any other part of europe; france alone excepted. after giving us a somewhat elaborate account of the manufactures of different spanish, havannah and brazilian snuffs, _lillie_ proceeds to describe a snuff he calls '_inferior lisbon_,' that singularly enough, closely approximates to the celebrated lundy foot. "this kind," he says "from the great heat used in drying it, has an agreeable smell, like high-dried malt, and is often called snuff of the burnt flavour; but the smell soon goes off on exposure to the air, for which reason, it is advisable to put no more into the snuff-box than shall be used whilst fresh." though we cannot but be aware, from the preceding account, that a snuff exactly resembling in all its attributes our own famous high-dried, called lundyfoot, so named from the nominal inventor, existed; yet the history of its discovery is of too facetious a description to be omitted here. lundy foot, the celebrated snuff manufacturer, some six-and-twenty years ago, had his premises at essex-bridge in dublin, where he made the common scented snuffs then in vogue. in preparing the snuffs, it was usual to dry them by a kiln at night, which kiln was always left in strict charge of a man appointed to regulate the heat, and see the snuffs were not spoilt. the man usually employed in this business, larey by name, a tight boy of cork, chanced to get drunk over the 'cratur', (i. e. a little whiskey) that he had gotten to comfort him, and quite regardless of his watch, fell fast asleep, leaving the snuff drying away. going his usual round in the morning, lundy foot found the kiln still burning, and its guardian lying snoring with the fatal bottle, now empty, in his right hand. imagining the snuff quite spoilt, and giving way to his rage, he instantly began belabouring the shoulders of the sleeper with the stick he carried. "och, be quiet wid ye, what the devil's the matter, master, that ye be playing that game," shouted the astounded larey, as he sprung up and capered about under the influence of the other's walking cane. "you infernal scoundrel, i'll teach you to get drunk, fall asleep, and suffer my property to get spoilt," uttered the enraged manufacturer, as each word was accompanied by a blow across the dancing mr. larey's shoulders. "stop! stop! wid ye, now; sure you wouldn't be afther spaking to ye'r ould sarvant that way,--the snuff's only a little dryer, or so, may be," exclaimed 'the boy,' trying to soften matters. "you big blackguard you, didn't you get drunk and fall asleep?" interrogated his master, as he suspended his arm for a moment. "och by all the saints, that's a good'un now, where can be the harum of slaaping wid a drop or so; besides--but hould that shilelah--hear a man spake raison." just as lundy foot's wrath had in some degree subsided in this serio-comic scene, and he had given the negligent watcher his nominal discharge, who should come in but a couple of merchants. they instantly gave him a large order for the snuffs they were usually in the habit of purchasing, and requested to have it ready for shipping by the next day. not having near so large a quantity at the time by him, in consequence of what had happened, he related the occurrence to them, at the same time, by way of illustration, pointing out the trembling larey, occupied in rubbing his arms and back, and making all kinds of contortions. actuated by curiosity, the visitors requested to look at the snuff, although lundy foot told them, from the time it had been drying, it must be burnt to a chip. having taken out the tins, they were observed to emit a burnt flavour, anything but disagreeable, and on one of the gentlemen taking a pinch up and putting it to his nose, he pronounced it the best snuff he had ever tasted. upon this, the others made a similar trial, and all agreed that chance had brought it to a degree of perfection before unknown. reserving about a third, lundy foot sold the rest to his visitors. the only thing that remained now, was to give it a name: for this purpose, in a facetious mood, arising from the sudden turn affairs had taken, the master called his man to him who was lingering near, "come here, you irish blackguard, and tell these gentlemen what you call this snuff, of your own making." larey, who did not want acuteness, and perceived the aspect of things, affected no trifling degree of sulky indignation, as he replied. "and is it a name ye'r in want of, sir? fait i should have thought it was the last thing you couldn't give; without indeed, you've given all your stock to me already. you may even call it 'irish blackguard,' stidd of one michael larey." 'upon this hint he spake,' and as many a true word is spoken in jest, so was it christened on the spot. the snuff was sent to england immediately, and to different places abroad, where it soon became a favorite to so great a degree, that the proprietor took out a patent and rapidly accumulated a handsome fortune. such are the particulars connected with the discovery of the far-famed lundy foot or irish blackguard--for which we are indebted to a member of the irish bar, who was a resident in dublin at the time. with regard to the numerous varieties of snuffs that exist, we shall say nothing at present, merely observing that the principal kinds of their manufacture are under three classes. the first is the granulated, the second an impalpable powder, and the third the bran, or coarse part, remaining after sifting the second part. select poetry. tobacco. [_from a book published in , called texnotamia, or the marriage of the arts._] tobacco's a musician--and in a pipe delighteth it descends in a close, thro' the organs of the nose, with a relish that inviteth. this makes me sing so-ho!--so-ho! boys-- ho! boys, sound i loudly-- earth ne'er did breed such a jovial weed, whereof to boast so proudly. tobacco is a lawyer--his pipes do love long cases, when our brains it enters, our feet do make indentures, while we scale with stamping paces. this makes me sing, &c. tobacco's a physician--good, both for sound and sickly, 'tis a hot perfume that expels cold rheume, and makes it flow down quickly. this makes me sing, &c. tobacco's a traveller, come from the indies hither,-- it passed sea and land, ere it came to my hand, and scaped the wind and weather. this makes me sing, &c. tobacco is a critticke, that still old paper turneth-- whose labour and care is as smoke in the aire, that ascends from a ray when it burneth. this makes me sing, &c. tobacco is an _ignis fatuus_--a fat and fyrie vapour, that leads men about till the fire be out, consuming like a taper. this makes me sing, &c. tobacco is a whyffler, and cries huff, snuff, with furie; his pipes, his club, once linke--he's the wiser that does drinke,-- thus armed i fear not a furie. this makes me sing so-ho!--so-ho!--boys-- ho! boys sound i loudly; earth ne'er did breed such a jovial weed, whereof to boast so proudly. snuff. --a delicate pinch! oh how it tingles up the titillated nose, and fills the eyes and breast, till, in one comfortable sneeze the full collected pleasure bursts at last! most rare columbus! thou shalt be, for this, the only christopher in my kalendar. why but for thee the uses of the nose were half unknown, and its capacity of joy. the summer gale, that, from the heath, at midnoon glittering with the golden furze, bears its balsamic odours, but provokes, not satisfies the sense, and all the flowers, that with their unsubstantial fragrance, tempt and disappoint, bloom for so short a space, that half the year the nostrils would keep lent, but that the kind tobacconist admits no winter in his work; when nature sleeps, his wheels roll on, and still administer a plenitude of joy, a tangible smell. what is peru, and those brazilian mines, to thee, virginia! miserable realms; they furnish gold for knaves, and gems for fools; but thine are _common_ comforts! to omit pipe-panegyric and tobacco-praise, think what a general joy the snuff-box gives europe, and far above pizarro's name write raleigh in thy records of renown! him let the school-boy bless if he behold his mother's box produced, for when he sees the thumb and finger of authority stuffed up the nostrils, when hot head and wig shake all; when on the waistcoat black, the dust or drop falls brown, soon shall the brow severe relax, and from vituperative lips, words that of birch remind not, sounds of praise and jokes that _must_ be laughed at must proceed. _anthology_, vol. ii. p. . thou art a charm for winter. nor here to pause--i own thy potent power, when chilling blasts assail our frigid clime, while flies the hail or rudely beats the shower, or sad impatience chides the wings of time. come, then, my pipe, and let thy savoury cloud, now wisdom seldom shews her rev'rend mien, spread round my head a bland and shelt'ring shroud, when riot mingles mischief with the scene. shield me at evening from the selfish fool, the wretch who never felt for human woes, and while my conduct's framed by virtue's rule, let only peace and honour interpose. shield me by day from hatred's threat'ning frowns, still let thine aromatic curtains spread, when bold presumption mounts to put me down, and hurls his maledictions round my head. do this, my pipe, and till my sand's run out, i'll sing thy praise among the sons of wealth, blest weed that bids the glutton lose his gout, and gains respect among the drugs of health. no shrew shall harm thee, no mundungus foul shall stain thy lining, as the ermine white; my choicest friends shall revel o'er thy bowl, and charm away the terrors of the night. from ample hoards i'll bring the fragrant spoils, the richest herb from kerebequa's shores, that grateful weed, that props the british isles, and sussex,[ ] england's royal duke adores. _the social pipe._ all nations honor thee. 'tis not for me to sing thy praise alone, where'er the merchant spreads his wind-bleach'd sails; wherever social intercourse is known, there too thy credit, still the theme prevails. the bearded turk, majestically grand, in high divan upholds the jointed reeds; and clearer reasons on the case in hand, till opposition to his lore concedes. thy potent charms delight the nabob's taste, fixt on his elephant (half reasoning beast); he twines the gaudy hookah round his waist, and puffs thy incense to the breezy east. the grave bavarian, midst his half year's frost, delights to keep thy ruby fins awake; and as in traffic's maze his fancy's tost, light skims the icy surface of the lake. the indian sachem at his wigwam-gate, by chiefs surrounded when the warfare ends, seated in all the pomp of savage state, circles the calumet[ ] to cheer his friends. the frenchman loves thee in another way, he grinds thy leaves to make him scented snuff; boasts of improvements, and presumes to say, france still the polish gives and we the _rough_. still let him boast, nor put john bull to shame, his gascon tales shall englishmen divert; france for her trifles has been _dear_ to fame, from her the ruffle sprung, from us the shirt. the lib'ral spaniard and the portuguese, spread richest dainties brought from realms afar; nor think their festive efforts form'd to please, unless redundant breathes the light cigar. so when our druids inspiration sought, they burnt the misletoe to fume around; th' inspiring vapours gave a strength to thought, they dealt out lore impressive and profound. methinks i see them with the mental eye, i hear their lessons with attention's ear; of early fishing with the summer fly, and many a pleasing tale to anglers dear. the while they draw from the inspiring weed, they boast a charm the smoker owns supreme; and now diverted with the polish'd reed, forego the little fish-house by the stream. tho' this be fancy, still it serves to shew, that wisdom's sons have lov'd columbia's pride; and shall, while waters round our island flow, tho' fools and fops its healing breath deride. mem'ry still hold me in thy high esteem, for lonely setting upon the day's decline; visions sublime, before my fancy gleam, and rich ideas from her stores combine. _the social pipe._ walton and cotton.[ ] our sires of old esteemed this healing leaf, sacred to bacchus and his rosy train; and many a country squire and martial chief, have sung its virtues mid a long campaign. methinks i see charles cotton and his friend, the modest walton from augusta's town; enter the fishing house an hour to spend, and by the marble[ ] table set them down. boy! bring me in the jug of derby ale, my best tobacco and my smoking tray; the boy obedient brings the rich regale, and each assumes his pipe of polish'd clay. thus sang young cotton, and his will obey'd, and snug the friends were seated at their ease; they light their tubes without the least parade, and give the fragrance to the playful breeze. now cloud on cloud parades the fisher's room, the moreland ale rich sparkles to the sight; they draw fresh wisdom from the circling gloom, and deal a converse pregnant with delight. the love-sick switzer from his frozen lake, lights thee to cheer him thro' the upland way; to her who sighs impatient for his sake, and thinks a moment loiter'd, is a moon's delay. the hardy scot amidst his mountain snow, when icy fetters bind the dreary vale, draws from his muse the never-failing glow, and bids defiance to the rushing gale. the honest cambrians round their cyder cask, in friendship meet the moments to solace; tell all thy worth as circles round the ask, and cheerly sing of "shenkin's noble race." the hardy tar in foamy billows hid, while fiery flashes all around deform; clings to the yard and takes his fav'rite _quid_, smiles at the danger and defies the storm; and when the foe with daring force appears, recurrent to the sav'ry pouch once more, new vigour takes and three for george he cheers, as vict'ry smiles, and still the cannons roar. the soldier loves thee on his dreary march, and when in battle dreadful armies join; 'tis thou forbids his sulphur'd lips should parch, and gives new strength to charge along the line. thy acrid flavour to new toil invites the ploughman, drooping 'neath the noon-day beam; inspir'd by thee, he thinks of love's delights, and down the furrow whistles to his team. thus all admire thee: search around the globe, the rich, the poor, the volatile, the grave; save the sweet fop, who fears to taint his robe, the smock-fac'd fribble, and the henpeck'd slave. thus all esteem thee, and to this agree, thou art the drug preferr'd in ev'ry clime; to clear the head, and set the senses free, and lengthen life beyond the wonted time. _the social pipe._ on a pipe of tobacco. by isaac hawkins brown, esq. pretty tube of mighty power! charmer of an idle hour; object of my hot desire, lip of wax and eye of fire; and thy snowy taper waist, with my fingers gently brac'd; and thy lovely swelling crest, with my bended stopper prest; and the sweetest bliss of blisses, breathing from thy balmy kisses; happy thrice and thrice agen-- happiest he of happy men! who, when again the night returns, when again the taper burns; when again the crickets gay, little crickets full of play; can afford his tube to feed, with the fragrant indian weed; pleasure for a nose divine, incense of the god of wine! happy thrice and thrice agen-- happiest he of happy men! my last cigar. the mighty thebes, and babylon the great, imperial rome, in turn, have bowed to fate; so this great world, and each 'particular star', must all burn out, like you, my last cigar: a puff--a transient fire, that ends in smoke, and all that's given to man--that bitter joke-- youth, hope, and love, three whiffs of passing zest, then come the ashes, and the long, long, rest. a review of the laws and regulations concerning tobacco. during the reign of elizabeth, a facility had been afforded to the dissemination of tobacco, that was soon destined to receive a check, on the accession of her successor, james the first, to the throne. this arose from a prejudice, that, with many others, rendered this weak and vacillating monarch remarkable. whether it arose, as many have supposed, from his dislike to sir walter raleigh, so despicably and cruelly shown, and that the source of his peculiar feelings turned with bitterness to the plant of that great man's adoption, can only be left to the imagination to decide; but that he exerted all the powers of his mind for its entire suppression, is certain. in the first place, the importation duty had been, up to this period, but _d._ per lb., and this, by the first law james passed, was increased to _s._ _d._, thus adding the comparatively enormous sum of _s._ _d._ to the previously existing trifle. in consequence of this, nearly a stagnation of the trade took place; and _stith_ informs us, that so low was it reduced in , that only , lbs. weight were imported from virginia, not amounting to one-sixth of the previous annual supply. one of two things now only remained to be done, as the traders could have no interest to gratify in shipping it under the existing law; they were either compelled to give it up or cultivate it at home. the latter alternative was adopted, and till the year , the tobacco-plant was cultivated to a very considerable extent. but the obduracy of its royal enemy was not to be so eluded, an act was passed especially prohibiting its culture at home. the crisis of the plant's fate seemed now to approach. determining on the other hand, not to forfeit an indulgence, that habit in a great degree had made necessary, it was examined and found in the reading of the act made in , that though it particularly provided _s._ _d._ duty should be levied on all tobacco _from virginia_, no mention was made of its importation from any other colony. taking advantage of this omission, recourse was immediately had to the spanish and portuguese districts, and the consequence was an influx of the favorite herb at the old duty of _d._ the only real sufferers through adopting this new channel of commerce, were the planters of virginia, who made a representation of their loss to the throne, when another law was passed, lessening the duty and prohibiting the importation from any other place. to this effect an act was passed in , and though it was some time previous to the trade regaining any thing like its pristine vigour, it had but just began to do so, when, as if the sight was doubly hateful to james, he had a new law passed. this was to the effect, that none, under very heavy penalties, should deal in the article without holding letters patent from himself. a blow so sudden and unexpected, occasioned the ruin, we are told, of many thousands, and the trade went rapidly to decay. so uncertain and precarious did the law at this period seem with regard to tobacco, and so well was the irritable monarch's antipathy to it known, by the celebrated "counterblaste" he had written against it, of which we shall treat hereafter, that few cared to speculate in the traffic. although the act james had made in was not repealed, the cultivation of the plant was still carried on clandestinely to a very great extent. most of the laws, indeed, since james's time, have an evident tendency to banish tobacco from the kingdom. an act was made th car. ii. cap. . this law, embracing the prohibitory portions of the preceding acts, confiscated the tobacco so found, with a fine of shillings for every pole of land so planted. another shortly followed after this, the th car. ii. cap. , wherein the previous one was enforced, and the penalty fixed at _l._ for every rod. by this we may infer, that the former of these acts had not, in the estimation of the legislature, been sufficiently powerful to restrain the practice of the secret culture of the plant at home. turning aside from the perusal of these laws, which probably arose from the pique of a learned though imbecile monarch, we cannot but reflect with a feeling of surprise, that our own _enlightened_ regulations have their origin distinctly traced to them. this is an assumption i think we may fairly maintain, when we state that the duty is now _s._[ ] per lb. on the importation of the raw material; a sum that forms no less than _fifteen times its prime cost_ in the countries where it is produced. on the leaf manufactured it is immense, the duty on cigars being _s._ the lb. ( th geo. iv. cap. ,) and on snuff _s._ that tobacco, as a luxury, is a fit article for taxation we are not disposed to deny, but a little reflection must convince any one, that a tax so exceedingly high, instead of adding to the revenue, can but have an opposite effect; for what can be a greater incentive to the contraband trade that is notoriously known to exist in this article of home consumption? if the duty were lowered, the great cause of smuggling in this line would no longer remain, and at the same time a much greater quantity would doubtless be consumed. if we but look back in other instances of a similar kind, we shall generally find it so. the duty on spirits in ireland and scotland was decreased from _s._ _d._ the wine-gallon down so low as _s._, which instead of lowering the amount of the annual tax, very considerably added to it. then again, in regard to the duty formerly levied on french wines, it was lowered from _s._ - / _d._ down to _s._ the gallon, a reduction that also greatly tended to increase the amount of the year's revenue. the duty on coffee is another proof we shall cite: in it was _s._ per lb. and the goverment derived from it that year , _l._ whereas when half of the amount levied was taken off, leaving it but _d._, in the gross receipt amounted to , _l._ thus may we see, with very numerous other instances that might be named, the advantages arising from a low tax, which we affirm, with few exceptions, will ever be found to benefit the country at large. nor is this the only evil we have to complain of as regards the tobacco regulations; while the whole system is defective, there is one that more imperatively calls for the attention of the legislature. what we allude to is, the glaring impolicy of obliging our merchant service to traverse different portions of the globe, at a consequently large expence, in search of an article we have the means of producing at home, and whose very production would furnish constant employment to some of the millions now a burthen to the country. perhaps it would scarcely be credited, that in , no less a quantity of tobacco and snuff was imported than , , lbs. now out of this, only , , lbs. paid duty; yet to the serious amount of , , _l._ sterling. the rest we suppose sought a market elsewhere. as a proof of the evident want of policy in our regulations concerning tobacco, we shall give our readers a slight abstract to judge for themselves. no tobacco shall be imported but from america on pain of forfeiture, with the vessel and its contents, except from spain, portugal, and ireland, from which it may be imported under certain regulations. ( geo. iii. c. .) but tobacco of the territories of russia or turkey may be imported from thence in british-built ships and warehoused, and may be exported or entered for home consumption on payment of the like duties as tobacco of the united states of america; and on its being manufactured in great britain and exported, shall be entitled to the drawbacks. ( geo. iii. c. .) by the geo. iii. c. , tobacco the production of the west indies or the continent of america, belonging to any foreign european state, may be imported into certain ports specified in the act, and exported to any port of the united kingdom subject to the regulations of the act; and such tobacco shall pay the same duties as that which is the growth of the british west indies, or of the united states of america. by the geo. iii. c. , unmanufactured tobacco may be imported from any place in british vessels navigated according to law, or in foreign ships navigated in any manner whatever belonging to any state in amity with great britain; and such tobacco shall be liable to the same regulations as tobacco from the british plantations. but no tobacco or snuff shall be imported in any vessel of less burthen than tons; nor any tobacco-stalks, tobacco-stalk flower, or snuff work in any vessel whatever; nor any tobacco or snuff in casks less than lbs. on the like penalty; except loose tobacco for the crew not exceeding five lbs. for each person; nor shall the vessel be forfeited, if proof be made, from the smallness of the quantity, that such tobacco or snuff was on board without the knowledge of the owner or master. ( g. iii. c. .) and no tobacco or snuff shall be imported, except at london, bristol, liverpool, lancaster, cowes, falmouth, whitehaven and hull, (and by geo. iii. c. , newcastle-upon-tyne), on the like forfeiture. every manufacturer of tobacco or snuff shall take out a licence from the officers of excise, for which he shall pay, if the quantity of tobacco and snuff-work weighed by him for manufacture within the year ending the th of october, previous to his taking out such licence did not exceed , lbs. £. above , , and under , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ------ every person who shall first become a manufacturer of tobacco or snuff, shall pay for every such licence _l._, and within ten days after the th of october next, after taking out such licence, such further additional sum as, with the said _l._, shall amount to the duty hereinbefore directed to be paid, according to the quantity of tobacco and snuff-work weighed for manufacture. and every dealer in tobacco and snuff shall take out a licence in like manner, for which he shall pay within the liberties of the chief office in london _s._, elsewhere _s._ _d._ ( geo. iii. c. .) but persons licensed as manufacturers who shall not sell tobacco in a less quantity than four pounds, nor snuff than two pounds, need not be licensed as dealers. ( geo. iii.) every person who shall manufacture or deal in tobacco or snuff without taking out such licence, or shall not renew the same ten days at least before the end of the year, shall forfeit, if a manufacturer _l._, and if a dealer _l._ persons in partnership need not take out more than one licence for one house. every manufacturer and dealer shall make entry in writing of his house or place intended to be made use of for manufacturing, keeping, or selling tobacco or snuff, three days previous to his beginning, on pain of forfeiting _l._, and also the tobacco and snuff there found, together with the casks and package which may be seized by the officers of the customs or excise. the importance of smoking and snuff-taking, exemplified in a grave dissertation, dedicated to the youth of the rising generation. what soothes the peasant when his toil is done? he cheerly sits beside his cottage door, in the sweet light of ev'ning's parting sun, his young ones sporting o'er the sanded floor:-- what cheers the seaman, when the fight is won, and vict'ry smiles upon our naval band? toiling no longer at the murd'rous gun, his thoughts are proudly of his native land. what charms the turk, greek, frenchman, fop or sage, in this enlighten'd comfort-loving age; since health, and pleasure's cheerful reign began, but lov'd tobacco, sovereign friend of man?--m. s. "for the taking of fumes by pipes, as in tobacco and other things, to dry and comfort."--_bacon._ "bread or tobacco may be neglected: but reason at first recommends their trial, and custom makes them pleasant."--_locke._ hail! inspirers of the profoundest and the brightest things that have been said and done since the creation, and, in the strength and plenitude of our recollections of thy divine virtues, aid us to sing thy praises! what though there be those, who, in the whim, caprice or ignorance of thy merits, would run ye down in the plenitude of their prejudices--have ye not stood the test of time, that criterion of excellence? are ye not, most sublime of pleasures, independent of your other numerous claims upon public and private favour--are ye not immortalized by the hallowed names of the great, the good, the wise, the witty and the learned, whose encomiums of your worth shall descend with you, through the future ages of unborn posterity. what! shall it ever be said that the disaffected to the great public cause, the innovators upon common taste, shall be allowed to progress in their rash undertaking, of seeking to undervalue the importance of those gentle consolers through life, the snuff-box and pipe. never! while there's a woodville--nay, even a dhoodeen,[ ] to smoke them to defiance, or a pinch of 'high dried,' to father a witty reply. much-injured and defrauded of habits--friends of past and present learning and genius--of every land and every clime--sought by rich, as well as poor, and alike soothing to the king as slave, how have ye not been calumniated by the weak and designing! as the poet saith, "envy doth merit as its shade pursue," and so is it with you. oh that those standing highest in the popular favour--the 'tried and trusty'--should ever be the objects of attack to the discontented! most delectable of companions! how many tender reminiscences and recollections are associated with you, from the last pipe of the murdered raleigh in newgate, to the dernier pinch of the equally unfortunate louis xvi, ere they mounted scaffolds, it is hoped, for a better world. if we turn to the imagination, how many endearing recollections connected with our subject throng upon us, even from the once happy days of our boyhood, when in secret we pored over the pages of genius in preference to scholastic lore. rise up before us, thou soul of philanthropy, and humorous eccentricity, my uncle toby! with thy faithful and humble serviteur the corporal.[ ] methinks, indeed, we now see ye together in the little cottage parlour, lighted up by the cheerful fire, discoursing of past dangers and campaigns under the soothing influence of the narcotic weed, whose smoke, as it rises in fantastic curls from either pipe, harmonizes together like your kindred souls. and thou, too, poor monk,[ ] offspring of the same pervading mind, yet picturing many a sad reality, must thou be forgotten, absorbed as thou art from all the grosser passions of our nature? our memory paints thee, impelled by the courtesy of thy gentle nature, proffering thine humble box of horn, thy pale and intellectual face, so sensitive, half-shrinking from the fear of 'pride's rebuff:' whilst thou thyself, from the sneers of the affluent, seekest consolation in--a pinch of snuff! good vicar of wakefield![ ] man of many sorrows, we greet thee in our reminiscences, sitting in thine happier days beneath the elm that shades thy rustic roof, as, under the influence of thy much loved pipe, thou inculcatest to the youthful circle around thee maxims of truth and piety. what peculiar feelings of veneration must we attach to these pipes and snuff-boxes. without them, indeed--with such a true knowledge of life are they introduced--the stories would lose half their force, and nearly all their effect. how naturally do we associate with a smoker, a blandness and evenness of voice and gesture, which we can by no means ascribe to men in common. the same almost in regard to the snuff-box: the mind seems to acquire a polish and fire at its very sight. nay, absolutely such is our profound respect for the sympathising herb, that even the _quids_ of poor lieutenant bowling[ ] himself would appear venerable in our eyes were they but in existence. lowering our pegasus a peg or two from the loftier flights of conception, we will proceed more immediately to analyze the merits of these legitimate offsprings of the parent plant, smoking and snuff-taking; first of all, however, having recourse to a pinch of welsh, to clear our head for so arduous an undertaking. that smoking and snuff-taking have, as habits pernicious to the health, been attacked repeatedly by the heads of science, is no less true than that they have escaped each intended flagellation, and thrived under the fostering lip and nose of a discerning public. previous, however, to proceeding further, we shall take a review of the different enemies arrayed against the good old customs we have had handed down to us from our fathers. these may most generally, we think, be divided into three classes--the ladies,--physicians, and a certain class of thin and pallid gentlemen, remarkable for the delicate susceptibility of their noses. the ladies of england designate smoking and snuffing, filthy and dirty habits. if you chance, dear reader, to ask why--because--because--they are vile and dirty habits, and thereby--'hangs a tale.' then, as a matter of course, comes to be cited a list of the most gentlemanly men, young and old, who are never guilty of committing the sin. now, what does all this come to?--that they do dislike the habits, and therefore none but brutes, among the more refined orders, would think of annoying them by practising either in their sweet presence. the understandings of women generally, in comparison with those of men, are proverbially weak. following the erratic course of the first of their sex, who brought misery and woe upon the devoted head of man, they in turn would fain deprive him of his two cheapest comforts, left to console him in this vale of sorrow. reader, if thou should'st chance to be a married man, when thy rib--so vulgarly called in epitome, though perchance the better half of thyself--rails against thy only consolation in domestic broils,--smoking--answer not, we beseech thee. no, not a word of the volume of eloquence we fancy rising indignantly in thy throat, against the cruel calumnies levelled at thy favorite virginia, as thou valuest the safety of thy tube, whether dutch or merschaum. the voice of an angel would not avail thee in thy cause. with reference to the _faculty_, though divided in opinions, we shall only notice those arrayed against the plant divine. indeed, the enmity of a physician dependent upon his profession for support may be always known; he detests anything cheap and soothing, conducive to health, and thence his frequent antipathy to tobacco in smoking. in regard to snuff he is wisely meek; for what were he himself without the stimulating dust in his pocket? in former times, indeed, its influence perhaps was greater and more respected than the wig and cane together, as swift says:-- "sir plume, of amber snuff-box, justly vain, and the nice conduct of a clouded cane." well, and what do the faculty say with reference to smoking? some will tell you it is hurtful to the lungs; others, that the head and heart are more particularly affected by it; very few of them agreeing precisely as to ill effects to be attributed to it. grant us patience to bear such ingratitude! while they are indebted for their consequence and fluency of discourse, to the wit-inspiring influence of the herb in grain, they are running it down in another and not less delightful preparation and form. then, by way of conclusion, like a crier of last dying speeches, comes to be related the death of some very promising young man, who, through the frequent habit of smoking, which he practised against the continued advice of the grave monitor--made his exit in a consumption. so if a man habituated to the pleasures of a pipe goes off in a consumption, the anti-smokers must immediately assert it was brought on by the use of tobacco. how do we know, indeed, but that its magic influence kept him alive much longer than he would have been, without it: supposing--and we suppose it only for the sake of argument, that one or two, nay, say twenty in the thousand, suffer in their health through smoking,--the abuse and not the use of which we candidly admit may slightly impair some peculiar constitutions,--where is the recreant who does not, feeling the joys of smoking, say with us, a "short life and a merry one!" what, after all, are a few years in the scale of human existence! is the fear of losing one or two of their number, to deter us from availing ourselves of innocent pleasures within our reach?--if so, london, methinks, would soon be deserted by the scientific and intelligent portion of its inhabitants, merely because the thames water chances to be a little poisonous, or so, and the air of the town notoriously unhealthy. by the same silly fear, too, the gourmand must abstain from the pleasures of the table,--fashionables from late hours, and the army and navy from hard drinking; in all of which the aforesaid, like true spirits, exclusively delight and take a pride; doubtless, inspired in seeking to indulge in what our own bard, byron, says: "aught that gave, hope of a pleasure, or peril of a grave." an evident proof, if any be wanting, that beings of a pacific disposition are as careless of facing death as those who have served an apprenticeship to it. once more, taking the most virulent of the medical enemies of smoking, on their own assertions, and supposing people are killed outright by smoking, why should this deter others from practising it? what is more common, than that each year presents us with numerous deaths in every department of recreation, whether riding, sailing, shooting or bathing; and yet we should be surprised to learn that ever it deterred others from following similar pursuits; then, wherefore, on their own shewing, should the harmless happy recreation (that to the poor comprehends all the above amusements) be excepted?--why, indeed?--o! ye sons of the 'healing art,' we throw reason away upon ye, and _we_ have too much reason to fear that the true lights of science are lost to ye for ever, when ye attack that which is so beneficial to man. the next, and in fact the most excusable of the triumvirate confederacy against smoking and snuff-taking, the former more particularly, that now calls for our attention, are the gentlemen of weak palates. these, first caught by the look of the thing, from perceiving the mild serenity ever attendant upon a smoker, and marking the sententious discourse of wisdom flowing like honey from his lips, have essayed the practice, without effect. at length, finding their nerves could never sustain the delightful fumes, without certain inward admonitions, that were not to be neglected or trifled with, they gave up all thoughts of that, which seemed to make so many happy. now, nothing is more common in metaphysics, than to know that when a fancy or love is not returned by the object of affection, it generally turns into as great a hatred. nothing, therefore, is more easily exemplified than the violence of the dislike expressed by this order of 'tobacco's foemen.' although the efforts of the above, with the exception of an occasional treatise against the pernicious effects of tobacco from the medical department, are confined to oral discussion of the subject; the genial herb has enemies of a more aspiring and determined cast. these parties are not contented with throwing their antipathies on the sympathy of their own friends, but they must even occasionally cast them upon the public in the awful form of a printed sheet. some of these, though written in a very grave style, are really amusing, and we shall note a couple of them, among many other originals before us, in proof. the first of these is the celebrated counterblaste by king james the first, written apparently in all the rancour of prejudice, and occupying rather a curious place among his learned works. the second is a tract (published in ) entitled, "an appeal to humanity, in behalf of the brethren of the heathen world: particularly addressed to snuff-takers and tobacco-smokers in all christian lands.--second edition." the application and tendency of this most facetious of pamphlets is, neither more nor less, than to induce the world at large to abstain from tobacco and snuff-taking altogether, and bestow the money formerly applied for that purpose, to the promotion of the missionary society to convert our 'heathen brethren.' such is the benevolent object of this barbarian himself--for what else can we, in the indignation that almost overwhelms us at his audacious attempt, call him. when we reflect but for a moment, if he succeeded by the powerful and charitable arguments he uses, the national wealth, powers, and consequences of the kingdom would be undermined. for what, we say, were englishmen without tobacco?--no more than a turk without his opium, a frenchman without his snuff, or any man without an agreeable stimulant to the mind. had he now only sought to deprive us of a meal in the day, our dinner even, for instance, we could have borne patiently with him; but to seek,--to conceive,--to attempt, banishing one of the most soothing,--sympathising, and truest friends from the mansions of john bull, is an atrocity we scarcely can credit; did not the identical barbarous proposition glare us in the face in good long-primer. write of the heathen, indeed! he wants converting himself to a just and proper sense of the darkness in which he walks, or rather we should say, writes, when he could conceive such an enormity. however, after thus premising, we shall allow him an opportunity of speaking for himself. in the first instance, he states, that he had long seriously thought, that the abuse of tobacco in every form is altogether inconsistent with the grand rule of the inspired volume--"whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of god." (i cor. x. .) after stating what truly astonishing large sums of money are annually expended in tobacco and snuff, he details the following anecdote. "travelling some time ago in a stage-coach, an elderly lady and a gentleman sat opposite to me. it was not long before the old gentleman pulled out his snuff-box, and, giving it a tap with his finger as the manner is, asked the lady if she would take a pinch; but she declined. as the lady particularly eyed me, i could scarcely refrain from smiling.--(_most facetious!_) 'perhaps, ma'am, you do not decline taking a pinch, because you think there is any sin in snuff-taking?' 'oh no. i do take snuff: do you think there is sin in it, sir?' 'yes ma'am,' said i, 'i think in _some cases_ it is sinful,' (_as cases are in italics we should feel happy to know whether they are of tin or composition he alludes to, but to proceed_.) at this, the lady expressed great surprise (_as well she might_) and would not be satisfied, unless i would assign some reason for thinking that snuff-taking was sinful. at length, for she teazed me, i said to her, 'pray ma'am, (_cannot he drop the field-preacher and write madam_) how much in the week may you spend in snuff?' 'perhaps _d._' 'and how many years have you been in the habit of taking snuff?' 'well, i suppose,' she replied, 'upwards of forty years.' 'seven-pence a week, you say,--that is something more than thirty shillings in the year,--and if you have taken snuff at this rate for forty years, the same will amount to more than _l._' 'you surprise me,--you must be mistaken, sir.' 'no, ma'am,' said i, 'i am not mistaken. it amounts to more than _l._ without the interest (_profound calculation!_) now, do you think that god will reward you for taking snuff?' 'reward me for taking snuff!' said she, 'no, sir, i do not expect that.' 'but suppose, instead of spending this _l._ in snuff, you had spent it in feeding the hungry, clothing the naked;'"--we really can follow these opinions no further, as we have more than one old maiden lady within our ken, that would have actually _fainted_ outright at such a want of modesty. trusting our reader will bear with us, we shall notice a little more of this self-created minister's appeal in favour of the heathens, who, doubtless, if favoured with the knowledge, could not but feel highly indebted for the exertions of so powerful an advocate in their cause. at the same time we strongly suspect, from the love he has of showing his knowledge of the tables of pence, that the writer was formerly an officiating deputy in a huckster's or chandler's shop, until seduced by the influence of the "spirit that moves" for a nobler call of action. the following is another specimen of his _figurative_ powers. "a few days ago, i mentioned the above anecdote in the house of a farmer. 'why,' said the farmer, 'i could never have thought that _d._ a week would have come to so much.--do you know my wife and i can assure you, that awhile back, we smoked an ounce a day.' 'an ounce a day,' said i, (_the echo!_) 'what is tobacco an ounce?' (_ignoramus!--we thought he knew not the value of what he attempts to depreciate_). 'four-pence,' said he. 'four-pence an ounce, and an ounce in the day, that is _s._ _d._ per week, and weeks in the year will be the sum of _l._ and _d._ annually.--o sir!--i am very sorry for you.'"--(_kind hearted soul!_) pursuing his system, apparently, of poking his head into the affairs of country farmers, he gives us another trite anecdote, too rich a _morceau_ to be passed in silence; since it so admirably serves to shew the estimation the pipe is held in by the true representatives of john bull. "since i commenced writing of this, i had occasion to call upon a respectable farmer, who is a member of your society--(_we smell a rat_)--and a leader i suppose, greatly esteemed by his neighbours, who certainly have the best opportunity of knowing him as a truly pious, and useful man. almost immediately after we were seated, he called for his pipe (for some people cannot be cheerful or make a wise bargain--_symptoms of the shop_)--unless their heads are enveloped in smoke. 'now, sir,' said he, 'can you smoke any, will you have a pipe?' 'no, sir,' said i, 'i never smoked a pipe in all my life;'--(_miserable man! this he says doubtless by way of shewing his christian self-denial_). 'i have for a long time considered it sinful, and therefore i never smoke.' 'sinful,' said he, laughing--(_jolly fellow!_)--'how can it be sinful?' 'because,' said i, 'it wastes our power of doing good. did you never consider that.' upon this his wife who was sitting by, pleasantly observed, 'our john is a terrible smoker'--(_worthy man!_)--'for goodness sake don't make him believe that it is sinful to smoke. if he can't get his pipe, we shall have no peace: he'll be quite out of temper.' 'nay,' said i, 'surely not out of temper.' 'yes, for sure, out of temper enough,--quite peevish and fretful.' 'now,' said john, 'how thou talks my dear.' 'talk! why is it not true? thou wants it first thing in the morning--then again at breakfast time--then again at noon, and then again at night--just as it happens. why, i'll warrant you (turning to me) he has seven or eight pipes in a day, and sometimes more,'--(_sensible man!_)--'perhaps,' said i, 'he's sick, and smokes for his health.' 'nay, nay, sick, bless him! he's none sick, he has got a habit of it you see, and so he thinks he wants it. oh, he must have his pipe--he can't do without his pipe--sin in it! nay, surely it cannot be sinful.' (_he concludes with his favorite computation_). upon inquiry, i found, that though the only smoker in the family, yet at a moderate reckoning, he contrives to consume about _l._ worth of tobacco every year." this would, doubtless, have been better employed in the hands of the good promoter of the missionaries, of whom we now take our leave; and to whom, we wish no further punishment for his cruel attempt at seeking to banish the cheerful companionship of the pipe from mansions of peace, than being compelled to the smoking of a pipe of the oldest shag himself. in reference to king james' counterblaste, although, from its antiquity, as well as the rank and learning of the author, it occupies a serious claim upon our attention, yet, upon the whole, it may be termed nearly as ridiculous as the foregoing, although not in its application. it, indeed, fully bears the stamp of those antipathies that, once conceived, the monarch was seldom or never known to waive. this is more singular, as they were formed against a plant, received into the greatest favour and esteem among all ranks, and, as a medicine, was in far greater request than it is even now. facts like these plainly establish, that james' dislike, however acquired, proceeded from prejudice and _prejudice_ alone. in the first paragraph, he tells us, that it was first introduced into england from the indians, who used it as an antidote against "a filthy disease, whereunto these barbarous people (as all people know) are very much subject." after bestowing a volley of abuse upon smoking, not of the most elegant description, he refers to the acquiring of the fashion that certainly generally applies in all things now, as well as it did in his own times. "do we not daily see, that a man can no sooner bring ouer from beyond the seas any new forme of apparell, but that he cannot be thought a man of spirit that would not presently imitate the same? and so, from hand to hand it spreads, till it be practised by all; not from any commodity that is in it, but only because it is come to be the fashion." of the popularity of smoking in his time, he says himself, "you are not able to ride, or walk, the journey of a jew's sabbath, but you must have a reekie cole brought you from the next poor-house, to kindle your tobacco with?" "it is become in place of a care, a point of good fellowship, and hee that will refuse to take _a pipe_ of tobacco among his fellowes, though by his owne election he would rather not feel the savor of the stinke, is accounted peevish and no good company; even as they do tippling in the cold eastern countreys." of the consequences then often attending the habit of smoking, he observes, "now how you are by this custome disabled in your goods, let the gentry of this land beare witness; some of them bestowing three, some four hundred pounds a yeere upon this precious stinke, which i am sure might be bestowed upon far better vses." than the assertion of the above individual enormous expenditure, nothing perhaps is better calculated to display james's exaggeration, which actually here can only be considered hyperbolical. the idea, the bare possibility, is scarcely conceivable for a moment, that in those days, three hundred pounds, at least equal to nine hundred of our present money, was ever laid out by a single individual in smoking; excepting, indeed, perhaps, as a very rare and singular occurrence. king james concludes his counterblaste in the following piece of declamation. "have you not reason then to be ashamed, and to forbeare this filthie noveltie so basely grounded, so foolishly received, and so grossly mistaken, in the right use thereof? in your abuse thereof, sinning against god, harming yourselves both in persons and goods, and raking also thereby, the markes and vanities vpon you: by the custome thereof, making yourselves to be wondered at by all forreinne civill nations, and by all strangers that come among you, to be scorned and contemned: a custome loathsome to the eye, hateful to the nose, harmefull to the braine, dangerous to the lungs, and in the black, stinking fume thereof, nearest resembling the horrible stigian smoke of the pit that is bottomlesse." what a pity it is, james never smoked; instead of this long tirade against the most cheerful of all pastimes, we should have had an eulogy, glowing with the warmth and feeling of truth from the head and heart. from the very gall perceivable at times, one could easily know he was an utter stranger to the gentle sympathy of a pipe. he ridicules and condemns that, which, like many others, he knows not, and therefore cannot appreciate. had he but put the pipe fairly upon its trial, and found it guilty of the mischiefs ascribed to it, then could we have excused him; but to conceive ideas not founded upon truth and justice and the welfare of the kingdom he was called upon to govern, and to act upon those ideas, by the framing of arbitrary laws, repressing the tastes of the nation at large, raises in its remembrance an indignation in our mind, that takes repeated whiffs of our 'german' to quell. now the truly immense extent of the benefits europe is indebted to for the introduction of the tobacco-plant, is by no means generally known. for the instruction of our _fellow_ creatures--we say instruction, because probably our numerous readers may never have met with them before,--we shall proceed to enlighten the world upon the subject. if we look backward to the earlier periods of history, what barbarous and savage manners do we not mark characterizing the people and the times. rapine and murder stalking hand in hand among them, and scarce at all repressed by laws, divine or human. now mark, sweet readers, especially if true lovers of the invaluable herb, whose praises we are about singing! mark what "great effects from little causes spring." no sooner did tobacco make its appearance and get into notice and use, than the passions of all men wooing its soothing influence, gradually began to receive a change. as it got more generally diffused, its influence might almost be termed magical; the sword, in a great degree, was exchanged for the quill, the wine-cup for the coffee-cup (thence its use in turkey always with smoking), and letters began to flourish--the first grand step towards that civilization i shall prove it was gradually destined to effect in the world. doubtless, like many other great writers, who open out a new light to the world, we shall have enough of sceptics, as opponents, to contend with; but we are sanguine from the facts we shall clearly establish, that far more is to be attributed to the powers of tobacco, than millions dream of. in the first place, it is too well known to admit of much doubt, that tobacco, whether smoked or taken as snuff, exercises a very considerable power upon the mind, more especially when taken in considerable quantities. when such is the case, the faculties are refined and exalted to a degree of spirited buoyancy, that forms a strange and pleasing contrast to the usual unstimulated lethargic state of the mind. we can only compare it, though in a much milder, and more inoffensive degree, to the species of delirium the turks so vividly describe, when labouring under the effects of opium. the intellectual senses, more particularly that part of them forming the imagination, become so much more powerful and pervading, that its conceptions receive a warmth and strength of colouring they never can, under common excitement. now tobacco, as we have recorded, was first brought to england in the reign of elizabeth, who greatly patronized it among the nobles and poorer orders, by whom it came speedily into general use. most mighty herb!--the effects of thy worship were soon visible, for where do we find a reign so great and glorious either for victories by land and sea, or the distinguished talent and genius, whether in the camp or cabinet, it fostered at home. then was it, that shakespeare--the magnificent shakespeare, (blest and honored was the reign in which he drew life) burst forth like a star destined to excite the astonishment of the world he came to throw the effulgent light of his genius upon. he was a smoker. then, to sketch forth the gigantic march of intellect, in the ages of which we write, came forth those luminaries of the world; hobbes, the parent of locke's philosophy, the profound philosopher lord bacon, the most illustrious mathematician and philosopher, sir isaac newton, and the singularly talented metaphysician locke, each and all of whom were celebrated for their devotion to the soothing and stimulating powers of a pipe! it is related of hobbes, who was one of the most profound thinkers of his time, that as soon as the dinner was over, he used to retire to his study and had his candle with _ten or twelve_ pipes of tobacco laid by him; then shutting the door he fell to smoking, thinking and writing for several hours together. locke and bacon smoked much for recreation; the latter of whom probably was indebted to the practice for the preservation of his life in the plague of , from whose contagious influence in london he sought safety in the country and his pipe. now, to what, we should like to know, are to be attributed the mighty and successful efforts of these wonderful men, who may justly be considered the founders of modern civilization and literature, but the all--the far pervading fumes of the sovereign tobacco-leaf they worshipped with such devotion. to its exhilarating influence and invigorating aid, exciting the imagination to realms of undiscovered beauties, are we indebted for those works that shall live, while time is,--the wonder of this and all future ages. are we singular in our opinion? mark, learn, and inwardly digest, ye unbelievers, what the learned dr. raphael thorious says on the subject:-- "of cheering bowls i mean to sing the praise, and of the herb that can the poet's fancy raise; aid me, o! father phoebus i invoke, fill me a pipe (boy) of that fragrant smoke, that i may drink the god into my brain; and so enabled, write a noble strain. for nothing great or high can come from thence, where that blest plant denies its influence." smile on, ye critics; but let us ask ye, if those works that have so strong a claim to our respect, would ever have come into existence had there been no tobacco, to rarify and stimulate the mind. no!--must be your candid answer, if only in verification of the old saying, '_no pipe, no parr_.' then, what mighty blessings are we not indebted for to the much-aspersed, calumniated, and insulted herb. nor is the fact of its consequence in regard to these first great discoverers in science, the only proofs that exist of its reputation; successive generations, under the weed's cheering auspices, have but continued what they so ably began. dr. johnson,[ ] dr. thorious, dr. aldrich, dr. parr, pope, swift, addison, steele, and a host of other approved writers of celebrity, independent of those of the present day, are all similarly indebted to the genial influence of tobacco, under one preparation or another, for the stimulus of their inspiration. the fact is incontrovertible. where was transcendant literary ability before the introduction of tobacco?--nowhere--it was unknown:--but, no sooner, we repeat, did it become known and in use, than its generative powers became quickly visible: the minds of men, though previously barren, became fructified by its influence, and letters flourished. with truth it is observed, we formerly were a nation of readers; but, who is so ignorant as not to know, that as tobacco has become diffused, with knowledge, we are now a nation of smokers and writers. it may, indeed, be fairly set down as an axiom we may rely upon, that nearly every one occasionally gets a penchant for scribbling who smokes or snuffs; from the cobler, whose "_soul_ on higher things is bent," that composes a ditty to the measure of some admired production gracing his stall, to the peer of the realm, who, lounging on an ottoman under the inspiration of prince's mixture, dictates a sonnet, or a novel, to his secretary, as the humour may chance to be of the moment. that tobacco has effected wonders in the promotion and promulgation of knowledge, we flatter ourselves we have plausibly shown; that it is equally distinguished in _diplomacy_ and _war_, is a fact we shall now proceed to demonstrate. to commence then: who ever knew or heard of a plenipotentiary without his jewelled _snuff-box_?--the thing were out of nature: without _it_, indeed, he were but an automaton--a body without a head--a mere 'cypher in the great account,' unbacked and unsupported. so well aware, indeed, are civilized governments of this fact, that snuff-boxes set with brilliants to the value of a _thousand pounds_ are given them, that they may be stimulated to business; diving into the cabals and intrigues of the state,--concealing their own, and, in a word, never be deserted at a pinch. nay, so much is snuff the fashion, that a courtier in most european countries without it were a sort of curiosity. many of the greatest of men, have been remarkable for the snuff they took. napoleon was among this number; he (acute and penetrating) _was up to snuff_, disdaining your common methods of worshipping that "spirit stirrer" of the human mind, he took it out of his waistcoat-pocket, and when vexed or thwarted by any unexpected occurrence, was always observed to have recourse to it, previous to exerting his mind on the subject. the greatness of his fortunes was commensurate with the quantity he consumed: the greatest snuff-taker in the french territories, it is by no means singular to relate, he became the first in grandeur and consequence, as well as the most idolized of men. at the same time, he was by no means insensible of the powers of smoking, for we find it recorded, that his greatest relief from extreme fatigue (as he used to declare) arose from "a cigar, _a cup of coffee, and a warm bath_;" three things, we affirm, highly creditable to the taste of so great a genius. nor did buonaparte confine the use of it solely to his own person: fully impressed with its powers, he ordered its use throughout the whole of the french army. the immediate consequence was, that under his influence and that of the stimulating weed, they conquered all before them, and became renowned throughout europe for their discipline and determined bravery. this may, by those who dive no further than the surface, be attributed to the ability of their general, to a certain degree we in our candour acknowledge; but the grand secret and mover of it was tobacco--sovereign tobacco! what sceptic so rash, dares breathe a doubt of the truth of this statement? does he require additional evidence?--if so! let him turn his eyes to the british navy. what is it, ever since the time of elizabeth, from the defeat of the spanish armada up to the victory at trafalgar, has rendered them invincible and the terror of the world?--what, we exclaim, but tobacco! to quids! quids! alone is their success to be attributed; but deprive them of these, and you take the spirit of the men away. immortal, godlike pigtail! and well too does government know this fact, and wisely institute an allowance to each man. hunger, thirst, and every hardship is borne without a murmur by each gallant tar, so long as there is pigtail in the locker. go seek the man, whether _topman_, _afterguard_, or _idler_, who has ever been upon a seven or three years' station, and ask him whence his chief consolation in the watch of safety, or peril, and he, if a true sailor, shall answer with an indescribable roll of the jaw--"pigtail!!!" 'tis the essence, in fact, the very quintessence of the man, and its consideration in his mind may be sufficiently gleaned from the following well-known epistle--at once an irrefutable proof, if any be needed. "warren hastings east indyman, off gravesend. march , . dear brother tom; this comes hopein to find you in good health as it leaves me safe anckor'd here yesterday at p. m. arter a pleasant voyage tolerable short and a few squalls.--dear tom--hopes to find poor old father stout, and am quite out of pig-tail.--sights of pig-tail at gravesend, but unfortinly not fit for a dog to chor. dear tom, captain's boy will bring you this, and put pig-tail in his pocket when bort. best in london at the black boy in diles, where go acks for best pig-tail--pound a pig-tail will do, and am short of shirts. dear tom, as for shirts ony took whereof one is quite wored out and tuther most, but don't forget the pig-tail, as i a'n't had a quid to chor never since thursday. dear tom, as for the shirts, your size will do, only longer. i liks um long--get one at present; best at tower-hill, and cheap, but be particler to go to diles for the pig-tail at the black boy, and dear tom, acks for pound best pig-tail, and let it be good. captain's boy will put the pig-tail in his pocket, he likes pig-tail, so ty it up. dear tom, shall be up about monday there or thereabouts. not so perticuler for the shirt as the present can be washed, but don't forget the pig-tail without fail, so am your loving brother." "t. p." "p. s.--don't forget the pig-tail." treating of the milder virtues of tobacco, who ever knew a smoker--one of your twenty years' standing,--ill tempered; or a veteran snuff-taker, who did not occasionally give utterance to witty sayings?--the thing were against reason. in conclusion, what can we say more for thee, omnipotent, prolific herb! than in the inspired lines of thy true admirer byron? sublime tobacco, which from east to west, cheers the tar's labours or the turkman's rest; which on the moslems' ottomans divides his hours, and rivals opium and his brides: magnificent in stamboul, but less grand, though not less lov'd, in wapping or the strand. divine in hookas; glorious in a pipe, when tipped with amber, mellow, rich and ripe; like other charmers, wooing thy caress, more dazzling fair and glaring in full dress; yet thy true lovers more admire, by far, thy naked beauties--give me a cigar? the medical qualities of tobacco. of the properties attributable to the plant in the _materia medica_, a variety of opinions prevail, and have done, indeed, since its first appearance in the civilized portion of the globe. it certainly cannot but strike the reader as a fact to be very greatly lamented, that science should be so unfixed, even in this much boasted-of-enlightened æra, that some medical men should be found to ascribe every bad and pernicious quality to the use of tobacco; and others, equally celebrated for their professional knowledge, recommend it as a panacea for many ills. reflection makes this still more dreadful, when we consider these are the men to whose abilities we are frequently compelled to look up, for the preservation of our healths and lives. it would be well, indeed, if this lamentable difference of opinion among the facult existed only in reference to our present subject. we shall now, however, proceed to note some of the ideas of the learned that have been expressed concerning the qualities of the herb, in pharmacy, and quote our first specimen in the following poem, by the famous dr. thorious, who most sagely recommends it as an antidote for every evil under the sun. a latin poem, by raphael thorious. (_translated into english by the rev. w. bewick._) the herb which borrows santa croce's name, sore eyes relieves and healeth wounds; the same discusses the kings evil, and removes cancers and boils; a remedy it proves for burns and scalds, repels the nauseous itch, and straight recovers from convulsive fits; it cleanses, dries, binds up, and maketh warm; the head-ach, tooth-ach, cholic, like a charm it easeth soon; an ancient cough relieves, and to the reyns and milt and stomach gives quick riddance from the pains which each endures, next the dire wounds of poison'd arrows cures; all bruises heals, and when the gum once sore, it makes them sound and healthy as before: sleep it procures, our anxious sorrows lays, and with new flesh the naked bone arrays; no herb hath greater pow'r to rectify all the disorders in the breast that lie; or in the lungs. herb of immortal fame, which hither first by santa croce came; when he (his time of nunclature expir'd) back from the court of portugal retir'd, even as his predecessors, great and good. all christendom now with its presence blesses, and still the illustrious family possesses the name of santa croce, rightly given, since they in all respects resemble heaven: procure as much as mortal men can do, the welfare of our souls and bodies too. _dr. cullen_ observes, that tobacco is generally recognized for its narcotic powers, as well as being a very considerable stimulant, with respect to the whole system, but more especially the stomach and intestines, and acts even in small doses as an emetic and purgative. the editors of the edinburgh dispensary also remark, that of late, tobacco under the form of a vinous or watery infusion, given in small quantities, so as to produce little effect by its action on the stomach, has been found a very useful and powerful diuretic. _dr. fowler_ published some cases of dropsy and dysury, in which its application was attended with the best effects, and this has been confirmed by the practice of others. beaten into a mash with vinegar or brandy, it has sometimes proved highly serviceable for removing hard tumours of the _hypochondres_. two cases of cure are published in the 'edinburgh essays.' considerable reliance has also been placed upon it, by some of the most eminent practitioners, as an injection by the anus of the smoke, in cases of obstinate constipation, threatening _ileus_, of _incarcerated hernia_, of spasmodic asthma, and of persons apparently dead from drowning or other causes. _dr. strother_ speaks of its being beneficial in smoking, to persons having defluxions on the lungs. by long boiling in water, its deleterious power is said to be neutralized, and at length destroyed: an extract made by long decoction, is recommended by _stubb_ and other german physicians, as the most efficient and safe aperient detergent, expectorant and diuretic.--_lewis mat. med._ _bates_ and _fuller_ give many encomiums on its powers in asthmatic cases. _boyle_ asserts the juice and the plant to be very excellent in curing ulcers and mortifications, although its operation, in this respect, is stated by numerous other authorities, to be deleterious in the extreme. as regarding, indeed, many of the virtues attributed to its use by lewis and others, in decoctions and poultices, candour obliges us to declare, though with great deference to those opinions which have been expressed by the most eminent of the medical profession, that we cannot consider it of any particular efficacy. we shall, therefore, forbear tiring our readers with recipes of the different forms in which it is prescribed for many illnesses. taken as snuff, tobacco is generally allowed to be a mild and inoffensive stimulant, which, indeed, in many cases, is prescribed as a most effectual errhine for clearing the nostrils and head. when taken, however, as it frequently is, in excessive quantities, its consequences become often visible, and tumours and secretions in the nose are said to be the result. it is likewise said by some, when taken immoderately, to greatly tend to weaken the sight and bring on apoplexy. _revenus_ and _chenst_ likewise wrote against the habit of smoking; but like more modern writers, among whom may be named _dr. adam clarke_, with little or no effect; for it may be set down as a fact, proved in many other instances, as well as this illustrates,--that where a people have the facilities of judging for themselves, they invariably will do so. in this case, practice and precept peculiarly go together. of the medical qualities of tobacco, as an antidote against contagion, its inestimable efficacy was never better proved, than in the period of the plagues[ ] that have at times visited england. _dr. willis_ says, in his very able treatise, that its power in repelling the infectious air during the plague of was truly astonishing; so much so, that the shops of the tobacconists remained quite uninfected. it is also very favourably mentioned by _richard barker_, a physician, at the period of the pestilence, who gives it in the following recipe against the plague: "carry about with you a leaf of tobacco rolled up in tiffiny or lawn, so dipt in vinegar. smell often to it, and sometimes clap it to the temples for some few minutes of time. for those that smoke tobacco, let them use it with one-fourth part of flower of sulphur, and seven or eight drops of oil of amber for one pipe." among very many celebrated physicians, who have also recorded and recommended the use of tobacco against the poisonous influence of the plague, may be mentioned _gideon hovey_, m.d.,[ ] _dr. fowler_,[ ] and _diemerbroek_, a distinguished dutch medical practitioner; besides numerous pamphlets that have been published on the subject of the plague. one account, published in by w. kemp, professing to recommend the best means to the public to avoid the infection, mentions tobacco in a way, that reminds us somewhat of its warm panegyrist, dr. thorious, and is too facetious to be here omitted. the following is the literal transcript:-- "the american silver weed[ ] or tobacco, is an excellent defence against bad air, being smoked in a pipe, either by itself or with nutmeg shred, and rew seeds mixed with it; especially if it be nosed, for it cleanseth the air and choaketh and suppresseth and disperseth any venemous vapour; it hath both singular and contrary effects; it is good to warm one being cold, and will cool one being hot. all ages, all sexes and constitutions, young and old, men and women, the sanguine, the choleric, the melancholy, the phlegmatic, take it without any manifest inconvenience; it giveth thirst, and yet will make one more able and fit to drink; it chokes hunger, and yet will give one a good stomach; it is agreeable with mirth or sadness, with feasting and with fasting; it will make one rest that wants sleep, and will keep one waking that is drowsy; it hath an offensive smell, and is more desirable than any perfume to others; that it is a most excellent preservative, both experience and reason teach; it corrects the air by fumigation, and avoids corrupt humours by salivation; for when one takes it by chewing it in the leaf, or smoking it in the pipe, the humours are brought and drawn from all parts of the body to the stomach, and from thence rising up to the mouth of the tobacconist, as to the helm of a sublunatory, are voided and spitted out." of the poisonous qualities of tobacco, we are informed that a drop or two of the chemical oil of tobacco, being put upon the tongue of a cat or dog, produces violent convulsions, and death itself, in the space of a few minutes; yet, the same oil used on lint, applied to the teeth, has been found of the utmost service in the tooth-ach.[ ] a very common opinion prevails among those who do not smoke, that it is bad for the teeth: a belief founded upon any thing but experience, and resulting generally from prejudice. for preserving the gums and the enamel of the teeth, in a healthy and sound state, few remedies can operate better than the smoke of tobacco. in the first instance, it renders nugatory the corruptive power of the juices that invariably set into the interstices of the teeth, and unless brushed away, remain after meals; and, in the second place, it destroys the effluvia arising at times from the breath that, in some constitutions, so quickly brings about a corrosion of the outer surface or enamel. the benefits that have resulted from smoking, in cases of the tooth-ache, have been too commonly experienced to admit of doubt. in a pamphlet that was published some thirty years ago, detailing the adventures of the pretender; an anecdote is related of its excellence. while taking refuge in the mansion of lady kingsland, in the highlands of scotland, from his enemies, after having had recourse to many things, he smoked a pipe to free himself from this 'curse o' achs;' and after a short time, received the wished-for relief. as another and concluding instance of the preservative power of tobacco upon the teeth, it is related in the life of the great sir isaac newton, who was remarkable for the quantity of tobacco he smoked, that though he lived to a good old age, he never lost but one tooth. botanical history and culture of the tobacco plant. tobacco is a genus of the class _pentandria_. order _monogynia_; natural order of luridæ (solaneæ, _juss._)--generic characters--calyx; perianthium one-leafed, ovate, half five-cleft, permanent. corolla: one-petalled funnel-form.--_essential character_--corolla funnel-form, with a plaited border, stamina inclined; capsule two-valved and two-celled. there are six kinds of tobacco peculiar to america: which we shall proceed to notice in their relative order. . nicotiana fruticosa, or shrubby tobacco: leaves lanceolate, subpetioled, embracing; flowers acute, stem frutescent. this rises with very branching stalks, about five feet high. lower leaves a foot and a half long, broad at the base, where they half embrace the stalks, and about three inches broad in the middle, terminating in long acute points. . nicotiana alba, or white-flowered tobacco. this rises about five feet high: the stalk does not branch so much as that of the former. the leaves are large and oval, about fifteen inches long and two broad in the middle, but diminish gradually in size to the top of the stalk, and with their base half embrace it. the flowers grow in closer bunches than those of the former, and are white: they are succeeded by short oval obtuse seed-vessels. it flowers and perfects seeds about the same time with the former. it grows naturally in the woods of tobago, whence the seeds were sent to mr. philip miller by mr. robert miller. . nicotiana tabacum or virginian tobacco: leaves lanceolate, ovate, sessile, decurrent, flowers acute. virginian tobacco has a large, long annual root; an upright, strong, round, hairy stalk, branching towards the top; leaves numerous, large, pointed, entire, veined, viscid, pale green; flowers in loose clusters or panicles. . nicotiana latissima, the great broad-leaved or oroonoko; formerly, as mr. miller says, sown in england, and generally taken for the common broad-leaved tobacco of caspar bauhin, and others, but is very different from it. the leaves are more than a foot and a half long, and a foot broad; their surfaces very rough and glutinous, and their bases half embrace the stalk. in a rich moist soil the stalks are more than ten feet high, and the upper part divides into small branches, which are terminated by loose bunches of flowers, standing erect: they have pretty long tubes, and are of a pale purplish colour. it flowers in july and august, and the seeds ripen in autumn. this is the sort which is commonly brought to the market in pots. . nicotiana tabacum, broad-leaved, or sweet-scented. the stalks of this, which is the broad-leaved tobacco of caspar bauhin, seldom rise more than five or six feet high, and divide into more branches. the leaves are about ten inches long, and three and a half broad, smooth, acute, sessile; the flowers are rather larger, and of a brighter purple colour. . nicotiana angustifolia, or narrow-leaved virginian tobacco; rises with an upright branching stalk, four or five feet high. the lower leaves are a foot long, and three or four inches broad: those on the stalks are much narrower, lessening to the top, and end in very acute points, sitting close to the stalks. besides these, it must be remarked, there are many other kinds of tobacco peculiar to different countries. _nicotiana undulata_, or new holland tobacco: radical leaves obovate, obtuse, somewhat wavy; stem-leaves sharp-pointed. it came to kew in , and is perennial in the green-house, flowering all summer long. the settlers at port jackson are said to use this herb as tobacco. _nicotiana plumbaginifolia_, or lead-wort-leaved tobacco: radical leaves ovate, contracted at the base; stem-leaves lanceolate, clasping the stem; all undulated; corolla salver-shaped, acute. the native country of this species is unknown. it has been cultivated in some italian gardens, and there were flowering specimens in may , in the store of the late lady amelia hume. _nicotiana axillaris_, or axillary tobacco: leaves opposite, ovate, flat, nearly sessile; stalk axillary, solitary single-flowered; corolla obtuse; segments of the calyx deep, spatulate. gathered by commerson at monte video, and communicated by thouin to the younger linnæus. leaves rather above an inch long, and near an inch wide, downy, and apparently viscid, like the rest of the herbage. fruits unknown. _nicotiana tristis_, or dull-purple tobacco: leaves lanceolate, wavy, clasping the stem; corolla salver-shaped, its tube not twice the length of the calyx, and scarcely longer than the obtuse limb. gathered also by commerson at monte video. _nicotiana rustica_, common english tobacco: leaves petioled, ovate, quite entire; flowers obtuse. the stalks of this seldom rise more than three feet high. leaves smooth, alternate, upon short foot-stalks. flowers in small loose bunches on the top of the stalks, of an herbaceous yellow-colour, appearing in july, and succeeded by roundish capsules, ripening in the autumn. this is commonly called english tobacco, from its having been first introduced here, and being much more hardy than the other sorts, insomuch that it has become a weed in many places. _nicotiana rugosa_ of miller, rises with a strong stalk near four feet high; the leaves are shaped like those of the preceding, but are greatly furrowed on their surface, and near twice the size, of a darker green, and no longer on footstalks. _nicotiana urens_, or stinging tobacco: leaves cordate, crenate; racemes recurved; stem hispid, stinging. fructification in racemes directed one way and revolute, with bell-shaped corollas, and cordate leaves like those of nicotiana rustica; but crenate, and the whole tree prickly. native of south america. _nicotiana glutinosa_, or clammy-leaved tobacco: leaves petioled, cordate quite entire; flowers in racemes, pointing one way, and ringent. stalk round, near four feet high, sending out two or three branches from the lower parts. leaves large, heart-shaped, and a little waved. _nicotiana pusilla_, or primrose-leaved tobacco: leaves of oblong oval, radical; flowers in racemes, acute. this has a pretty thick taper root that strikes deep in the ground; at the top of it come out six or seven leaves spreading on the ground, about the size of those of the common primrose, but a deeper green. this kind was discovered by dr. houstoun at vera cruz, and he sent the seed to england. _tabacum minimum_ (gen. em. .) appears to be another species, hitherto unsettled, with a branched leafy stem, a span high; leaves ovate on footstalks, opposite; and stalked acute, greenish-yellow flowers. the n. minima of molina (poir. in lum. diet. iv. .), is probably another species, or perhaps the same. culture.--tobacco thrives best in a warm, kindly rich soil, that is not subject to be over-run with weeds. in virginia, the soil in which it thrives best is warm, light, and inclining to be sandy; and, therefore, if the plant is to be cultivated in britain, it ought to be planted in a soil as nearly of the same kind as possible. other kinds of soil might probably be brought to suit it, by a surface of proper manure; but we must remember, whatever manure is made use of, must be thoroughly incorporated with the soil. the best situation for a tobacco plantation is the southern declivity of a hill, rather gradual than abrupt, or a spot that is sheltered from the north winds: but at the same time it is necessary that the plants enjoy a free air; for without this they will not prosper. as tobacco is an annual plant, those who intend to cultivate it ought to be as careful as possible in the choice of the seeds; in which, however, with all their care, they may sometimes be deceived. the seed should be sown in the middle of april, or rather sooner in a forward season, in a bed prepared for this purpose, of such soil that has been already described, mixed with some warm rich manure. in a cold spring, hot beds are most eligible for that purpose; and gardeners imagine that they are always necessary: but mr. carver[ ] tells us, that he is convinced, when the weather is not very severe, the tobacco seeds may be raised without-doors: and for this purpose gives us the following directions: "having sown the seed in the manner above directed, on the least apprehension of a frost after the plants appear, it will be necessary to spread mats over the beds, a little elevated from the ground by poles laid across, that they may not be crushed. these, however, must be removed in the morning, soon after the sun appears, that they may receive as much benefit as possible from its warmth and from the air. in this manner proceed till the leaves have attained about two inches in length and one in breadth, which they will do in about a month after they are sown, or near the middle of may, when the frosts are usually at an end. one invariable rule for their being able to bear removal is, when the fourth leaf is shrouded, and the fifth just appears. then take the opportunity of the first rains or gentle showers to transplant them into such a soil and situation as before described; which must be done in the following manner:--the land must be ploughed or dug up with spades, and made as mellow and light as possible. when the plants are to be placed, raise with the hoe small hillocks at the distance of two feet or a little more from each other, taking care that no hard sods or lumps are in it; and then just indent the middle of each, without drilling holes, as for some other plants. "in some climates the top is generally cut off when the plant has fifteen leaves; but if the tobacco is intended to be a little stronger than usual, this is done when it has only thirteen; and sometimes, when it is designed to be remarkably powerful, eleven or twelve are only allowed to expand. on the contrary, if the planter is desirous of having his crop very mild, he suffers it to put forth eighteen or twenty. "this operation, called _topping_, is much better performed by the finger and thumb than with any instrument, because the grasp of the fingers closes the pores of the plant: whereas, when it is done by instruments, the juices are in some degree exhausted. care must also be taken to rip off the sprouts that will be continually springing up at the junction of the leaves with the stalks. this is termed _succouring_ or _suckering_ the tobacco, and ought to be repeated as often as occasion requires. "when the plantation comes to a proper growth, it should then be cut down and placed in a barn, or covered house, where it cannot be affected by rain or too much air, thinly scattered over the floor; and if the sun does not appear for several days, they must be allowed to _milt_ in that manner; but in this case the quality of the tobacco is not so good." "_cure._--after the plants have been transferred, and hung sometime, pressing or smoking, as it is technically termed, they should be taken down, and again laid in a heap and pressed with heavy logs of wood for about a week: but this climate may probably require a longer time. while they remain in this state it will be necessary to introduce your hand frequently into the heap, to discover whether the heat be not too intense; for in large quantities this will sometimes be the case, and considerable damage will be occasioned by it. when they are found to heat too much, that is, when the heat exceeds a moderate glowing warmth, part of the weight, by which they are pressed, must be taken away; and the cause being removed, the effect will cease. this is called the second or last sweating; and when completed, the leaves must be stripped from the stalks for use. many omit this last sweating; but mr. carver thinks it takes away its remaining harshness, and makes it more mellow. the strength of the stalk is also diffused by it through the leaves, and the whole mass becomes equally meliorated. when the leaves are stripped from the stalks, they are to be tied up in bunches or _hands_, and kept in a cellar or other damp place. at this period the tobacco is thoroughly cured, and as proper for manufacturing as that imported from the colonies. original poetry. new words to an old tune. a comic ditty. lieutenant fire was fond of smoke, and cash he ow'd a deal; tho' some said he'd a heart of oak, for others it could feel: with wit he was,--not money stor'd,-- his landlord thought it meet, as he'd liv'd free so long on board, why he should join the fleet. the station he lik'd not at all, and wish'd the duty o'er; he saw some fights, and many ball, but ne'er saw such before. to banish care, he sought a rod, and smok'd like any mid, but unlike some,--altho' in quod,-- disdain'd to take a quid. and though a man, both short and stout, all knew him in a crowd; for oh, he never mov'd, without his head was in a cloud: in pris'n he met a friend he'd known full many years ago, in 'four in hand' his cash had flown, and now he'd come to woe. poor brown, alas! he had been green, and so his hopes had marr'd; but thought it strange in turn, i ween, he should be driven hard. now he took snuff, in _quantum suff._, he thought it calm'd his woes,-- while one friend blew the light cigar, the other blew his nose. "as we have bask'd in fortune's calm, now squalls come we'll not flinch," thus spoke the tar, and gave his arm, and brown gave him a pinch. "now, fire, all snuffs are good, we know, except when ill-prepar'd, i love a box and you a blow, but keep me from blackguard. at _lundyfoot_ i am no hand, seldom its dust i take, ah! each day or so, by turns, i go from strasburg to jamaica." "'tis well, my boy," return'd the tar, "such journeys you can wend, for fuel here don't go so far, here's plenty of walls-end." of future scenes of happiness, the tar he often spoke; but they, indeed, as you may guess, but ended all in smoke. at length there money came one day,-- each left the walls unkind; the tar went out--yet strange to say, his ashes left behind! ode on tobacco. gently o'er my senses stealing, indian-weed, i love thee well; raising, soothing, passion's feeling, who can all thy magic tell: who can paint the soft entrancing, all thy virtues who can know? moving visions, sweetly glancing, giving joy and calming woe. tell me, do the proud ones scorn ye, does the monarch on his throne, in the countries where are born ye, in the lands of either zone; prince and beggar, both caress thee, and to thee their homage pay; from ind to lapland, myriads bless thee, all bow to thy sovereign sway. true, there are some soft ones ever, like a drop within the sea; weak in nerves, yet vastly clever, who have vainly 'countered thee: but thy strength, their own excelling, moves the wrath they cannot quell; envy makes their breast its dwelling, and the grapes are sour as[ ]---- stanzas to a lady. in defence of smoking. what taught me first sweet peace to blend, with hopes and fears that knew no end, my dearest, truest, fondest friend? my pipe, love! what cheer'd me in my boyhood's hour, when first i felt love's witching power, to bear deceit,--false woman's dow'r? my pipe, love! what still upheld me since the guile, attendant on false friendship's smile, and i in hope, deceiv'd the while? my pipe, love! what cheer'd me when misfortunes came, and all had flown me?--still the same, my only true and constant flame, my pipe, love! what sooth'd me in a foreign land, and charm'd me with its influence bland, still whisp'ring comfort, hand in hand? my pipe, love! what charm'd me in the thoughts of past, when mem'ry's gleam my eyes o'ercast, and burns to serve me to the last? my pipe, love! the last quid. he seiz'd the quid,--'twas hard and dry, the last one in its nook; the beggar'd sailor heav'd a sigh,-- despair was in his look. and have i fought, and bled in vain, are all my comforts o'er-- when shall i see thy like again, thou last one of my store. high and dry i've kept thee here, in hopes of getting aid; my cruise, alas, is lost, i fear-- oh why was bacce made! i've borne all weathers, wind and rain, and patiently i bore-- when shall i see thy like again, thou last one of my store. his gaze was on the muddy ground, and mis'ry in his eye; sudden he sprang with eager bound, on something glitt'ring nigh: a sovereign's aid, 'tis very plain, thank heaven, i ask no more; soon shall i see thy like again, thou last one of my store. anecdotes. _the precious pipe._--napoleon greatly patronized the habit of smoking in the french army, so that it soon became actually indispensable for the continuance of that _gaité du coeur_, for which his troops were remarkable, even in the moments of severest peril. under the cheering influence of the pipe, they surmounted all difficulties; and, under its consoling power, bore fatigue, and hunger, and thirst with a fortitude and philosophy, remarkable in the annals of military record. during the latter end of their march to moscow, and after the burning of the russian capital, they endured severe privations from the loss of their favourite herb, the stock of which was all expended: nor was this all; they suffered exceedingly through want of food and the inclemency of the weather, with many other evils, the smoking of tobacco had hitherto consoled them for. such was the general state of the army, when a private of the _garde imperiale_, being out with a detachment on a foraging party, chanced to stray from the rest, and, in the skirt of a wood, came upon a little low deserted hut. overjoyed in the hopes that he might find something to relieve his necessities, he stove in the door with the butt end of his musquet, and instantly commenced a scrutiny, to see if anything had been left behind by those who had evidently lately quitted it. the few articles of comfort it had formerly contained seemed, however, all to have been carried away in the flight of its late inmates, and he was about abandoning his search, when he perceived something stuffed up between the rafters of the ceiling. thrusting it with his bayonet, a dark bundle fell at his feet: his joy may be better imagined than expressed, when, on untying the rag that bound it, he found a quantity of coarse tobacco. after filling his pouch with it, and stowing the rest of the (to him) invaluable treasure about his person, he pulled forth a short clay pipe, whose late empty bowl he had so often contemplated with melancholy regret, and, having struck a light, filled it with his darling herb, and commenced smoking immediately. "never," said the soldier, who himself narrated the tale to us in paris, "since the campaign began, when we started with the certainty, almost, of returning with plunder to enrich the rest of our lives, did i feel half the pleasurable emotions i did, the hour i spent, sitting in the darkened room of that hut, whiffing the grateful fumes from my short pipe. indulging in visions that for a long time had been a stranger to me, the much-boasted pleasures of the opium eaters, were nothing in comparison to mine.--i seemed in heaven, sir." after having regained the camp, it soon became a subject of remark and discussion, how faucin (the soldier's name) got his tobacco to smoke, and looked so cheerful, when his comrades would have given all they were worth for the same luxury. knowing his extreme danger if it should be discovered he had any quantity of tobacco in his possession, he took every opportunity, when questioned, as he often was closely on the subject, to state that it was only a trifling remnant he had preserved. under this pretence, he refused the numerous applications that were made him for portions, however small. at length, as his short pipe was still perceived week after week, emitting its savoury steam, on their toilsome march homewards, it was generally suspected, and he was openly told, he had plenty of tobacco in his knapsack, and he was threatened, in case of his refusal to divide a share. firmly believing he should be robbed, if not murdered, by some of his comrades, who watched him with selfish eyes for the sake of the tobacco he carried, he was obliged by prudence to confess the secret to two corporals and a serjeant, and divide a quantity among them. while their line of march was daily and nightly strewed with the dead and dying, and many a gallant fellow breathed his last on the cold beds of snow, they were wonderfully sustained by the tobacco, that kept up their spirits throughout the scene of famine and desolation, and he reached france with the few wretched remnants of the fine troops, who had quitted it with the eagle's flight, amid the shouts of _vive napoleon_. _an old quiddist._--a late messenger in a certain public law-office had rendered himself remarkable for the very excellent economy he pursued in the consumption of tobacco. in term time he had always plenty to do, and picked up a sufficient sum to supply the deficiency of business in the short vacations, which enabled him to obtain as much shag as he could well chew at those times, but he never lost sight of the 'rainy day.' he frequently got drunk but never forgot the miseries of the 'long vacation,' and accordingly acted upon the following plan, which, for its genius, has never been equalled in the annals of chawing:--he would begin, for instance, the first day of michaelmas term, which succeeds the long vacation, with a new quid, which he would keep only about half the usual time in his mouth, and extract only a portion of its nectarine sweets. this quid, instead of casting it at his feet, he would then transfer to a certain snug little shelf in the office, with the most reverential caution, and obtain another. this practice he would repeat five or six times in the course of the same day, and every day during the times before mentioned, and what was the result? when the long vacation commenced, and he had nothing to do, he had collected the amazing quantity of between and quids!!! these he worked upon, _de novo_, during the long recess, and 'rich and rare' indeed was the collection; it was the poor messenger's only comfort. _dr. aldrich._--his excessive love for smoking was well known to his associates; but a young student of his college, finding some difficulty to bring a fellow collegian to the belief of it, laid him a wager that the dean aldrich was smoking at that time (about ten o'clock in the morning). away went the latter to the deanery; when, being admitted to the dean in his study, he related the occasion of his visit. the dean, instead of being disconcerted, replied in perfect good humour, "you see, sir, your friend has lost his wager, for i am not now smoking, but only filling my pipe!" _chinese arrogance._--as a precursor to the following, it will only be proper to relate, that in china the use of smoking and snuff-taking is general, although buildings are not thought requisite for curing tobacco, as in the west indies, there being little apprehension of rain to injure the leaves when plucked. thus the chinese grow tobacco enough for their own consumption, and will not allow any to be imported, so as to discourage their own cultivation. this prohibition, which has long existed in that country, was some years ago notified to mr. wilkodes, the american consul, then at canton, in the following manner: "may he be promoted to great powers! we acquaint you that the foreign opium, the dirt which is used for smoking, is prohibited by command. it is not permitted that it shall come to canton. we beg you, good brother, to inform the honoured president of your country of the circumstance, and to make it known, that the dirt used for smoking is an article prohibited in the celestial empire."--_paunkbyquia mowqua, &c. kai hing, nd year, th month, nd day, canton, may nd, ._ _sir isaac newton._--this illustrious individual was remarkable for smoking and temporary fits of mental abstraction from all around him; frequently being seized with them in the midst of company. upon one occasion, it is related of him, that a young lady presenting her hand for something across the table, he seized her finger, and, quite unconsciously, commenced applying it as a tobacco-stopper, until awoke to a sense of his enormity by the screams of the fair one. _extraordinary match._--some years ago, in a public room at langdon hills, in essex, the conversation chancing to turn on smoking, a farmer of the name of _williams_ boasting of the great quantity of tobacco he could consume at a sitting, challenged the room to produce his equal. mr. _bowtell_, the proprietor of the great boot-shop, skinner-street, and remarkable for smoking "pipes beyond computation," travelling his round at that time, chanced to be present, and immediately agreed to enter the lists with him for five pounds a-side. a canister of the strongest shag tobacco was placed by the side of each at eight o'clock in the evening, when they began the match. smoking very fast, by the time the clock had struck twelve, they had each finished sixteen pipes, when the farmer, through the dense atmosphere, was observed to turn pale. he still continued, however, dauntlessly on, but, at the end of the eighteenth pipe, fell stupefied off his chair, when the victory was adjudged to his opponent, who, calling for an extra glass of grog, actually finished his twentieth pipe before he retired for the night! divans. nor ball, nor concert, nor theatre can boast, with all their frippery and senseless fun; nor broiling taverns, when they shine the most, by hot unruly spirits overrun;-- in dance, or song, or drunken laugh, and toast, with elegance and comfort, cheaply won,-- to cheer the spirits and to refine the man: hail! books and mocha,--cigars and the divan! it is with feelings of pleasure we have remarked of late years the change that has gradually taken place in regard to places of public nightly amusement. formerly, the metropolis had no other allurements than were comprised in the theatre or the tavern,--the former of these being but too frequently a precursor to the latter; and that latter, in its turn, among young men in general, to scenes of a worse, and, in the end, more fatal description. as a preventative in a great degree to the above incentives to dissipation, must we welcome the appearance of divans amongst us, forming, as they do, in their quiet and elegant seclusion, a pleasing and intellectual contrast to their more boisterous contemporaries. divan, or more properly speaking, _diwan_, by some writers is said to be of eastern origin, and the plural of _diw_, a devil. the appellation, says a persian lexicographer, was first bestowed by a sovereign of persia, who, on observing his crafty counsellors in high conclave, exclaimed, _inan diwan end_--"these men are devils." _mutato nomine de te fabula narratur_, may be pertinently applied, in this instance, to the councils of more sovereigns than those of ispahan. another derivation, and a more probable one, perhaps, is the turkish word for sopha,--a luxury abundantly supplied in every divan in turkey. in that country it is a chamber of council held by the grand seignior, his pashas, or other high tributaries, in which all the councillors assembled smoke their chibouques during the debate in all the sedate pomp of eastern magnificence. the interiors of these divans are represented by travellers as superbly grand, falling little short of the far-famed description of their harems. coffee, it must be remarked, is the common beverage used by the turks whilst smoking, and is commonly handed round with little or no milk or sugar, in small china cups. taken thus, perhaps, nothing harmonizes with smoking so well on the palate; as the rev. dr. walsh says, in his travels in turkey, speaking of tobacco, and in whose judicious remarks we cannot but concur, "i do not wonder at the general use of this most indispensable of turkish luxuries; it is always the companion of coffee (mocha), and there is something so exceedingly congenial in the properties of both, that nature seems to have intended them for inseparable associates. we do not know how to use tobacco in this country, but defile and deteriorate it with malt liquor. when used with coffee, and after the turkish fashion, it is singularly grateful to the taste, and refreshing to the spirits; counteracting the effects of fatigue and cold, and appeasing the cravings of hunger, as i have experienced." the popularity of divans in england may be best known by the rapid increase of their numbers since their first adoption here. at the present period there are no less than six popular divans (independent of several obscure ones) in london. these are,-- the oriental divan, regent-street. the private subscription divan, pall mall. the royal city divan, st. paul's churchyard. the royal divan, king-street, covent garden. the royal divan, strand. the divan, charing cross. the whole of these divans are fitted up in a style of asiatic splendour and comfort, that produces to the uncultivated eye a very novel and pleasing effect; while, upon a closer examination, the other senses are no less delighted. the journals of every nation in europe are a general attraction to linguists and foreigners, while the cream of our own ever fertile press leaves the english reader nothing to wish for in the way of literature. indeed, no means of entertainment are found wanting at these delightful _soirées_; chess invites the player, pictures the eye, and occasional music the ear; while lounging on a sopha with a cigar in the mouth, the gazer might almost fancy himself in the land of the crescent. the divans in regent-street and pall mall, are considered the most oriental of any in town, though the saloon in the strand is perhaps the largest. a refinement that peculiarly distinguishes the divan in king-street, is an admirably laid-out garden; at night lit by numerous parti-coloured lamps; in the day during the summer-time it forms a pleasing attraction to all lovers of the cooling shade. of the royal city divan, of whose elegant interior our frontispiece engraving presents so correct a view, we can only say that its allurements are peculiarly attractive. in the first place, the saloon has an advantage in being situated--unlike all the other divans--on the first-floor, and is fitted up in a very superior manner. it likewise possesses, from the extent and spaciousness of the premises, the additional advantage of private refreshment rooms, to which parties of friends can retire from the busy hum of the grand saloon, and enjoy the pleasures of a convivial glass. altogether, we cannot help observing, ere we conclude, that great merit is due to the several proprietors of the divans for the tasteful and expensive way in which they have furnished their different saloons; while, from the extreme moderation of their charges, they cannot but have strong claims to the patronage of a discerning public. mems. for smokers. cigars.--the best and most approved cigars consumed among our nobility and gentry, are those brought from the havanah in the west indies. the woodville, so called from the name of the importer, are held in the greatest estimation. in form, these should gradually decline from the middle to long and tapering ends. color, a clear raw sienna brown, variegated with bright brown yellow spots. in flavour they should be light and spicy, draw free, leaving a firm white ash. an excellence too, that should distinguish these cigars from the common kind, independent of their taste, should be the length of time they are capable of retaining their light without being drawn. the strong flavoured cuba, by smokers of long standing, when indeed a pipe has not altogether superseded the cigar, are in the greatest request. these vary in color from black to brown, according to the strength or age of the leaf; and like the woodville, are also distinguished when properly seasoned, and kept by mildew spots, though of a darker hue. the tobacco of the cubas growth is very frequently made up into cheroots, a form some prefer to the cigar, and are sold under the denomination of manilla. without entering into a description of the numerous kinds of cigars vended in the united kingdom, we can only remark, as a fact well authenticated, that the greater and more common part, sold from eight to thirteen shillings the hundred; are prepared from the cabbage-leaf, soaked in a strong solution of tobacco-water. cigars, so composed, are generally passed off under the names of _hambro'_, _maryland_, and _virginia_. the same deceptions may be said to exist, in respect to the small cheroots, whether scented or not: they are, with comparatively trifling exceptions, nearly all of british make. the reason is obvious, why these deceits are practised: in a former part of this little work, we stated the duty on the imported raw leaf of tobacco to be three shillings per lb., while on the _manufactured_, it is just thrice that amount: at once a reason why a good price must needs be given for the genuine foreign article. a great saving is effected in purchasing cigars by the weight or box as imported, while from a respectable shop you may be always sure of their being made abroad, as they are sent under seal in boxes from the west indies. _tobaccos._--an idea prevails among young smokers, that tobacco, independent of its fancied vulgarity, is always much stronger than cigars; an error that is very common. like cigars, indeed, it is of various growth and quality, and like them, may be had weak, or strong. the smoker, if he desires it, can have tobacco as weak as the mildest havanahs. the only difference in their manufacture is, the leaf is cut into shreds to form the one, and wrapt up to form the other. the persian, turkish, and maryland tobacco, are the mildest. the shag and twists, the strongest; the latter of which, as its name implies, is manufactured uncut; its excellence may always be told by a shining cut and an agreeable smell. besides these, we have tobaccos under an infinite number of appellations, with all the variations in their nature, incident to climate, growth, age, and method of being prepared for use. the tobacco held in the greatest esteem in the east, is the persian. the turks, notwithstanding their own excellent growth of the plant, give very high prices to possess it; especially that which comes from, _shiraz_. this is accounted the best. the moslems are also much in the habit of smoking a composition of opium and rose leaves with their tobacco through scented waters. a similar practice is common in india among the higher class; the same materials are made into a thick consistency and rolled into balls, which they term _jugeny_. to the unpractised palate, the smoking of this composition has a strangely exhilarating and intoxicating effect. a singular habit also prevails in the island of ceylon. some of the natives wrap the leaf of a strong tobacco they call _kapada_ into a lengthened form, and then covering it with the leaf of the _wattakan_ tree, light one end of it, and smoke by the other, till the whole is consumed. besides the tobacco of the west indies, persia and turkey, considerable quantities are cultivated in the levant, the coasts of greece, the archipelago, the island of malta, and italy. _pipes._--in reference to these essentials to smoking tobacco, a great variety of tastes are displayed, while that of each country forms an amusing contrast to that of its neighbour. in the eastern portion of the globe, the gorgeous hookah or superb chibouque with their serpent train are caressed: in france, the short twisted pipe: in germany, the merschaum: in holland, the long slender black pipe: in america, the short red clay pipe, or the ingeniously manufactured, yet murderous tomahawk, bears the tube of comfort; while in england--happy england--all, or any of these, are attainable. the portable pipes the turks are in the habit of using have their bowls generally made of a peculiar kind of red clay; and the tube part of jasmine and cherry sticks. the most expensive and those which from their exceeding size, and costliness, are regarded as the most sumptuous furniture of the mansion, are composed of a variety of materials. the tubes, which sometimes have been known to exceed twenty yards in length, are commonly made of leather covered with the richest velvets, and bound with gold or silver wire; this is generally terminated at the one end by a gold, silver, or amber mouth-piece; while the other (when used as it almost always is with scented water) tipped with a reed of a foot long, is placed in a decanter containing the water, through which the smoke is to be drawn; it is then met and joined by a similar reed, bearing the chafing dish; this is of silver, very large, with a fretwork cover of the same metal, through which the fumes of the aromatics used arise. it is by no means an uncommon thing in the east to have these tubes (which are remarkably flexible) carried through the wall of one apartment into another, that the apparatus may not be in the way of the smoker. the merschaum or german pipes, in europe, are celebrated for the virtues of their bowls, which are of a very porous quality. these are composed of a substance thrown upon the shore by the sea in germany, and being called _ecume de mer_ form the origin of the word merschaum. in germany they are commonly set in copper, with leather and horn tubes, but in england they are variously formed and ornamented with chains and tassels. _tubes_, when they are used for cigars (whose flavour we think they greatly tend to spoil) should be short, and composed of amber. _lights for smoking._--the advantage of obtaining an instantaneous light, is perhaps seldom more appreciated than by smokers. the articles used until lately for the purpose of igniting cigars, when out, or travelling, were the amadou, with the flint and steel--the phosphorus box, and pneumatic cylinder:--all of which were, more or less, uncertain or inconvenient, until the ingenious invention of jones's prometheans. these may very fairly be said to possess a never-failing facility in producing an instantaneous light. the promethean is composed of a small bulb of glass, hermetically sealed, containing a small part of sulphuric acid, and surrounded by a composition of chlorate of potash and aromatics. this is enclosed in paper prepared for the purpose. the light is simply effected by giving the promethean a smart tap that breaks the bulb, when the acid, coming in contact with the composition, causes instant ignition. it must be remarked however, the lucifers or chlorate matches that ignite, by drawing the match through sand paper, introduced by the same inventor, is decidedly bad for a cigar; the fumes arising from the combustion being offensive, are too apt to spoil the flavour of the leaf. in divans, burners called jos-sticks, are generally used for lighting cigars, as they smoulder in their light, like the promethean. finis. london: printed by littlewood and co. old bailey. footnotes: [ ] _memoires philosophiques, historiques, physiques, concernant lá decouverte de l'amerique, &c. par don ulloa. traduit avec des observations par m----._ paris, . vol. ii. p. . [ ] _m. valmont de bomare_, formerly director of the cabinets of natural history, medicine, &c. to the prince of conde. [ ] the british historian. [ ] a well-known perfumer in his day who resided in beaufort's buildings, london, a. d. . [ ] scrows are the untanned hides of buffaloes, sewed with thongs of the same, and made up into bags or bales for the exportation of several kinds of american produce, as indigo, snuff, tobacco, &c. &c. the fleshy side of the skin is turned outwards, whilst the hairy side, partly scraped, comes into anything but an agreeable contact with the commodity. [ ] independent of his royal highness's attachment to the columbian weed, the duke has a repository where are to be seen, in curious arrangement, all the smoking tubes in use by the civilized inhabitants of the world, from the slender pipe used by the hollander, to the magnificent hookah used by the indian prince in his court, or on the back of his elephant; and so attentive is the prince to this healthy amusement, that even in his travelling carriage a receptacle is formed for the pipe, the tinder, the flint, and the steel. [ ] the pipe of peace. [ ] the two celebrated anglers. [ ] see walton's complete angler. charles cotton of beresford hall, his little fishing house. [ ] except from british possessions in america, and then it is _s._ _d._ [ ] a short pipe smoked by the lower orders, and generally rendered black by time and the frequent use of the commonest shag tobacco. [ ] sterne's tristram shandy. [ ] sterne's sentimental journey. [ ] by goldsmith. [ ] smollett's peregrine pickle. [ ] antiquarian fact: the identical pipe and chair used by the celebrated author of the rambler are still in being, and are exhibited as relics of no ordinary value, at the house he used formerly to frequent in bolt-court, fleet-street. it now goes under the very appropriate appellation of dr. johnson's coffee-house. [ ] we more particularly refer to this fact from the reports concerning the cholera morbus that are now in circulation. [ ] discourse on the plague, a. d. --recommends tobacco smoked in a pipe. [ ] physician to the general infirmary of the county of stafford, a. d. . [ ] at that time frequently so called. [ ] vide experiments on the effects of oil of tobacco on pigeons, &c. &c.--phil. trans. vol. xx. part i. append, p. . fonbine sur les poissons, florence. quarto. [ ] treatise on the culture of tobacco. [ ] i am sorry to say our leading black primer is all out; i have been down below, but they cannot spare any there.--_printer's devil._ note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see -h.htm or -h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/ / -h/ -h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/ / -h.zip) transcriber's note: text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=). a list of corrected printer's errors and inconsistencies can be found at the end of the text. the artistic crafts series of technical handbooks edited by w. r. lethaby dress design [illustration: a long-trained muslin dress. about .] dress design an account of costume for artists & dressmakers by talbot hughes illustrated by the author from old examples · together with pages of half-tone illustrations london sir isaac pitman & sons, ltd. bath, melbourne, toronto, and new york reprinted general preface to the series in issuing this volume of a series of handbooks on the artistic crafts, it will be well to state what are our general aims. in the first place, we wish to provide trustworthy text-books of workshop practice, from the points of view of experts who have critically examined the methods current in the shops, and putting aside vain survivals, are prepared to say what is good workmanship, and to set up a standard of quality in the crafts which are more especially associated with design. secondly, in doing this, we hope to treat design itself as an essential part of good workmanship. during the last century most of the arts, save painting and sculpture of an academic kind, were little considered, and there was a tendency to look on "design" as a mere matter of _appearance_. such "ornamentation" as there was was usually obtained by following in a mechanical way a drawing provided by an artist who often knew little of the technical processes involved in production. with the critical attention given to the crafts by ruskin and morris, it came to be seen that it was impossible to detach design from craft in this way, and that, in the widest sense, true design is an inseparable element of good quality, involving as it does the selection of good and suitable material, contrivance for special purpose, expert workmanship, proper finish and so on, far more than mere ornament, and indeed, that ornamentation itself was rather an exuberance of fine workmanship than a matter of merely abstract lines. workmanship when separated by too wide a gulf from fresh thought--that is, from design--inevitably decays, and, on the other hand, ornamentation, divorced from workmanship, is necessarily unreal, and quickly falls into affectation. proper ornamentation may be defined as a language addressed to the eye; it is pleasant thought expressed in the speech of the tool. in the third place, we would have this series put artistic craftsmanship before people as furnishing reasonable occupations for those who would gain a livelihood. although within the bounds of academic art, the competition, of its kind, is so acute that only a very few per cent. can fairly hope to succeed as painters and sculptors; yet, as artistic craftsmen, there is every probability that nearly every one who would pass through a sufficient period of apprenticeship to workmanship and design would reach a measure of success. in the blending of handwork and thought in such arts as we propose to deal with, happy careers may be found as far removed from the dreary routine of hack labour, as from the terrible uncertainty of academic art. it is desirable in every way that men of good education should be brought back into the productive crafts: there are more than enough of us "in the city," and it is probable that more consideration will be given in this century than in the last to design and workmanship. * * * * * the designing and making of costume is a craft--sometimes artistic--with which we are all more or less concerned. it is also, in its own way, one of the living arts, that is, it is still carried forward experimentally by experts directly attached to the "business." it has not yet been subjected to rules of good taste formulated by academies and universities; but when inigo jones, the great architect, was asked to make some designs for fancy dress, he based them on the five orders of architecture, and ponderous fancies they were. if we look for the main stem of principle on which modern costume develops, we seem to find it in the desire for freshness, for the clean, the uncrushed, and the perfectly fitted and draped. probably a modern lady's ideal would be to wear a dress once, and then burn it. a correlative of the ideal of freshness is the delight in perfect "cut," and the rapidly changing fashions are doubtless conditioned in part by the desire for the new and unsullied. "novelty" is a guarantee of newness. in such ephemeral productions it would be vain to seek for certain fine types of excellence which were once common when dresses were not so lightly cast aside. so it is necessary that we should understand what the ruling principle is, for it is one which will not be set aside at the bidding of well-meaning reformers. i will only venture to say that it would be desirable to make the attempt to separate in some degree the more constant elements of dress from those which are more variable. it will seem a pity to more than outsiders that a "well-dressed" person need wear so little which deserves to have been made by human hands, and nothing which deserves to be preserved. fine laces and jewels are allowed to be antique--could not the circle of such things be a little broadened? a properly groomed man carries about on him literally nothing worth looking at. we might surely look for a watch-chain with some delicacy of handiwork--something beyond mechanical reductions of iron cables. fine buttons might conceivably be made to go with the studs, or be made of crystal, amethyst, and silver or gold. women might allow of the transfer of fine embroidered applications from one dress to another, or make more use of clasps and the like. i am confident that when it is pointed out, it will be felt as a shortcoming that no part of a fine lady's dress need now be too good to throw away. although the present volume is cast into the form of a history, it is also intended to be a book of suggestions; and the hope is held that modern dressmakers may refer to it as much as, or more than, those who are interested in dress from the historical point of view. in any case the author's accurate knowledge of the facts, and his many bright sketches--which are often drawn from examples in his own remarkable collection--make the present volume an admirable handbook of english costume. the more technical "patterns" which are included amongst the illustrations will be found most valuable to all who wish to go deeper than the first glance reveals. w. r. lethaby. . contents page general preface to the series xi _preface_ xiv list of plates xxiii introduction chapter i prehistoric dress--female prehistoric dress--male chapter ii the development of costume to the tenth century--female the development of costume to the tenth century--male chapter iii tenth to the fifteenth century--female tenth to the fifteenth century--male chapter iv fifteenth century--female fifteenth century--male chapter v sixteenth century. character of trimmings sixteenth century. henry viii--female sixteenth century. henry viii--male sixteenth century. the reigns of edward vi and mary--female sixteenth century. the reigns of edward vi and mary--male sixteenth century. elizabeth--female sixteenth century. elizabeth--male chapter vi the character of trimmings through the seventeenth century james i charles i the commonwealth charles ii james ii and william and mary seventeenth century. james i--female seventeenth century. james i--male seventeenth century. charles i--female seventeenth century. charles i--male seventeenth century. the commonwealth--male and female seventeenth century. charles ii--female seventeenth century. charles ii--male seventeenth century. james ii--female seventeenth century. james ii--male seventeenth century. william and mary--female seventeenth century. william and mary--male chapter vii the character of decoration and trimmings of the eighteenth century eighteenth century. anne--female eighteenth century. anne--male eighteenth century. george i--female eighteenth century. george i--male eighteenth century. george ii--female eighteenth century. george ii--male eighteenth century. george iii to --female eighteenth century. george iii to --male chapter viii character of trimmings of the nineteenth century nineteenth century. george iii--female nineteenth century. george iii--male nineteenth century. george iv--female nineteenth century. george iv, - --male nineteenth century. william iv--female nineteenth century. william iv--male nineteenth century. victoria--female nineteenth century. victoria--male patterns of various reigns from antique costume patterns to scale patterns to scale, detailed list index list of descriptive lines to the plates frontispiece _facing title_ a long-trained muslin dress, about . plate i _facing p. _ boots and shoes from the fourteenth to nineteenth century. plate ii " _a._ elizabethan robe in plush, - . _b._ elizabethan robe in silk brocade, - . _c._ elizabethan male robe in velvet brocade, - . _d._ back-piece of elizabethan doublet in embroidered linen, - . plate iii " _a._ elizabethan jump (or jacket), about . _b._ portrait of lady in embroidered costume, between and . plate iv " _c._ youth's jacket of linen embroidered in worsted, - . _d._ linen male jacket embroidered with gold and silk, - . plate v " _a._ jerkin--period james i. _b._ lady's bodice of slashed and vandyked satin, - . _c._ jerkin of embroidered linen, - . _d._ jerkin of embroidered linen, - . plate vi " _a._ collar and cuffs set with lace, - . _b._ embroidered leather jerkin, - . _c._ top of stocking, embroidered linen, - . plate vii " _a._ herald's coat, embroidered velvet and silk, first half seventeenth century. _b._ lady's bodice of black velvet, - . _c._ black silk jerkin, - . plate viii " _a._ three suits--period charles ii. _b._ " " " " _c._ " " " " plate viiia " _a._ suit of embroidered silk, - . _b._ three sword-hangers embroidered in gold, charles ii. _c._ braided suit, - . plate ix " _a._ lady's embroidered silk jacket, - . _b._ lady's bodice of silk brocade, - . plate x " _a._ black velvet bodice, - . _b._ five embroidered waistcoats, between and . plate xi " sixteen leather boots and shoes, between and . plate xii " _a._ lady's outdoor costume, - . _b._ costume, early eighteenth century. _c._ silk brocade dress, - . plate xiii " _a._ silk coat, - . _b._ brocade silk coat, - . _c._ embroidered cloth coat, - . plate xiv " _a._ embroidered silk dress with pannier, - . _b._ brocade dress and quilted petticoat, - . plate xv " _a._ white cloth coat, - . _b._ silk dress, - . _c._ embroidered velvet coat, - . plate xvi " _a._ silk brocade dress, - . _b._ silk brocade sack-back dress, - . _c._ dress of striped material, - . plate xvii " _a._ silk suit, - . _b._ quilted dress, - . _c._ silk embroidered suit, - . plate xviii " _a._ brocade bodice, - . _b._ flowered silk dress, - . _c._ silk brocade bodice, - . plate xix " _a._ silk brocade dress, - . _b._ embroidered silk jacket, - . _c._ brocade jacket, - . plate xx " _a._ gold-embroidered muslin dress, - . _b._ nine aprons, between and . _c._ dress of spotted stockinette, - . plate xxi " twenty-three boots and shoes, from to . plate xxii " _a._ linen dress, - . _b._ silk bodice, - . _c._ " " - . plate xxiii " _a._ muslin dress with tinsel design, - . _b._ silk dress, period george iv. _c._ satin and gauze dress, - . plate xxiv " _a._ outdoor silk jacket, - . _b._ embroidered muslin bodice, - . _c._ embroidered muslin bodice, - . _d._ satin and gauze bodice, - . plate xxv " _a._ silk dress, - . _b._ cotton dress, - . _c._ embroidered muslin dress, - . _d._ silk gauze dress, - . plate xxvi " _a._ morning coat of chintz, - . _b._ cloth coat, - . _c._ cloth overcoat, - . plate xxvii " outdoor silk dress, - . plate xxviii " _a._ silk pelisse, - . _b._ cotton dress, - . _c._ silk spencer and cape, - . plate xxix " _a._ embroidered silk gauze dress, - . _b._ gauze dress with appliqued design, - . _c._ printed linen outdoor dress, - . plate xxx " _a._ printed silk bodice, - . _b._ gathered linen bodice, - . _c._ silk bodice and bertha, - . plate xxxi " _a._ embroidered muslin outdoor dress, - . _b._ riding habit, - . _c._ gauze ball dress, - . plate xxxii " _a._ silk dress, - . _b._ gauze walking dress, - . _c._ silk dress, - . plate xxxiii " _a._ silk dress with court train, - . _b._ silk afternoon dress, - . _c._ silk coat and skirt, - . dress design plates originally printed in collotype are now produced in half-tone introduction the subject of historical costume covers such a multitude of detail that a volume on each century could be written, with hundreds of illustrations. thus it is, most works on costume are expensive and bewildering; but i hope this small practical handbook will be a useful addition to the many beautifully illustrated works which already exist. i have divided the matter into centuries and reigns, as far as possible, in this small work, besides separating male and female attire, thus simplifying reference. a special feature has also been made, of supplying the maker or designer of dress with actual proportions and patterns, gleaned from antique dresses, as far back as they could be obtained; and i am much indebted to the authorities at the victoria and albert museum for the permission given me to examine and measure their unique specimens; also to mr. wade, mr. g. g. kilburne, mr. duffield, mr. box kingham, mr. hill, mr. breakespeare, and others, for their valuable assistance with interesting specimens. i have used outline drawings in the text, as being more clear for purposes of explanation. the dates given to the illustrations are to be taken as approximate to the time in which the style was worn. many of the photographs have been arranged from my own costume collection, which has made so much of my research simple, reliable, and pleasant. i am also happy to state that before the final revision of this book i have heard that my collection of historical costumes and accessories will, after a preliminary exhibition at messrs. harrod's, be presented to the victoria and albert museum as a gift to the nation by the directors of that firm. thus the actual dresses shown in these plates will find a permanent home in london, and become valuable examples to students of costume. the coiffures in the collotype plates are not to be judged as examples, for it would have consumed far too much time to set up these figures more perfectly, but all the bonnets, caps, and accessories given are genuine examples. in a book of this size, one cannot go into the designs of materials, &c., which is a study any earnest student would not neglect, but in this connection i would draw attention to the comparative colour density and proportion of designs chosen for various effects. it has been my endeavour to arrange a greater variety of the forms which make up the characters of each period, and also to give a wider knowledge into the footwear, or details of the footwear, than is usual in most costume books. in a review of the styles i would not press any choice for building new designs, as i believe in close individual research and selection, which may utilise many interesting features from costume settings even in periods which are almost scorned. i believe the purest beauty is found in the simple forms of dress and decoration settings from the th to the th centuries, schemed to the natural proportions of the figure. the grace of line and movement is often aided by the short train, which can be so happily caught up in many ways; the slight drag of the train always keeps the front clear in outline, besides showing the movement of the limbs. length of fall in the material was desired, the figure creating its own folds with every turn, but a belt was often placed rather high under the breast. there is little reason with nature of fine form to make dress into sections by a corset waist. a long, lithe, complete curve in outline--much happier unbroken, except by the girdle--is certainly the most artistically useful conception, not breaking the rhythm (as does the harder belt), while it also induces much beauty in lifting and arranging the drapery. the long falling sleeve also has the same qualities, giving a greater fullness of shape, a variety of colour (by a difference of lining), with a winglike motion, besides softening the angle of the elbow. i think the next garment for high esteem is the chasuble-shaped tunic (with or without sleeves). falling cleanly from the shoulders, it stops at a charming length for the skirt to take up the flow of line. the delightful effect of partly-laced or clasped sides was not missed by the ablest designers. how refined, too, was the character of decoration of the old period! the art of concentrating effects is seen to perfection, retaining the breadth of shape and length unbroken. jewelled embroidery of fine enrichment was wrought on the borders, neck settings, square corners, the girdle, and the clasps. the preciousness of effect was truly appreciated by the enclosing of the face in the purity of white lawn and zephyr-like veilings; the circlet and the long interlaced plaits and charming nettings were all tastefully schemed. has woman ever looked more supreme through all the centuries of extravagant styles and distortions? i believe not: but i have come to the conclusion that, at whatever period of seeming insanity of style, the woman of fine taste can overcome all obstacles by her individual choice and "set up," and has really always looked fascinating. there was another form of decoration at this period--the cutting of the edges into a variety of simple or foliated shapes, giving a flutter and enrichment to forms in a simple manner, and this, in conjunction with the increasing richness of materials, was a valuable aid to lighten the effects. it was probably initiated by the heraldic characteristics in vogue. the pricked and slashed details had much the same result in enriching surfaces. later the fan sleeves of the th century were enhanced in a similar way by the curved and scalloped shaping, which was used as late as the victorian sixties with happy effect on the polonaises. now, as regards the finest corset dress, the palm must be given to the sack-back dress of the eighteenth century (not in the period of its distortion with hoops), and a full setting showed it to greatest advantage. this type of design lent itself to more variety in beauty of arrangement than any other; the looping, reefing, and tying always set gracefully in accord with the back fall. the easy exchange of the stomacher also gave additional chance of effect, and the beauty of the fan-shaped sleeve, with its lace falls at the elbow, was a delightful creation. how rich and refined this character could be, without the monstrous forms and head-dresses which later invaded it and turned it into ornate absurdity! when we examine the period of charles i, we find much charming dignity in the adaptations of earlier inventions; the collar settings were noble, indeed perfect, in arrangement, and the bodice decoration and proportions most interesting. for the grace of girlhood no dresses are happier than those of the early th century to , and the inventions in trimmings through this period were prolific in beauty and lightness of style. analysis of the many fashion-plates and original dresses of this period will well repay all interested in beautiful needlecraft and dress design. the arrangement of frills, insertions, gathered effects, applied forms, and tasselled or buttoned additions, will be found full of beauty and novelty, especially in the dresses of white embroidery. plates xxiii and xxiv (see pp. - ) give some happy examples of this time. [illustration: plate i.--boots and shoes from the th to the th centuries. . charles ii. . james ii. . william and mary. . george ii. . george iii., . . george iii., . . george iii., - . . - . . william and mary. . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . henry viii. . semi-clog, - . . henry viii. . - . . late th century or early th century. . - . . late th century to middle of th century. . - . . - .] a word on the most condemned flow of fashion during the victorian era. there are many dresses of real charm to be found amongst the mass of heavy styles which must not be overlooked in studying design and style. even the crinoline dress, when treated with the exquisite silk gauzes, as fig. in plates xxxi and xxxiii (see pp. - ), was as alluring as any woman could wish, and the original design of the jacket in the latter figure, with its richly embroidered, long-skirted front cut short at the back, arranged itself perfectly on this type of undersetting. there was notable refinement of effect and beauty of proportion in many dresses of the sixties, as exemplified in fig. a, plate xxxii (see p. ), the waist being set rather high, and the very full skirt carried back by the crinoline being held thus with its cross ties. chapter i prehistoric dress. female. the woman's attire would have been chiefly a shortish skirt or wrap of coarse linen, wool, or leather, gathered in front or folded at one hip; grass cloth may also have been in use in most primitive tribes. probably the upper part of the body was kept bare, except for many ornaments and necklaces, but a bodice or jacket cut in the same simple form as the male shirt, with a heavy belt or girdle, would have been used, and certainly a large shawl, which could be wrapped over the head and round the figure during inclement hours. dyed or painted patterns on the cloths might well have been also in use, their chief designs being stripes, circles or dots, zigzag lines, diamonds and plaid squares, rope patterns and plaited patterns. the hair would have been loose, plaited, or coiled on top, held by bone pins or circlets of bronze. prehistoric dress. male. we have little description or illustration to certify the actual dress of the early inhabitants of britain, but we can draw conclusions with pretty certain assurance, from the knowledge of their mode of living. from their attainments in artistic design and handiwork, it is clear they had arrived at a very high state of savage culture before the roman invasion; and we have only to study the better types of savage life still in progress, to picture how our own primitive race would be likely to dress under the conditions of climate. the thousands of "finds," which accumulate evidence every year, give us a closer acquaintance with their customs and work. the rest we must imagine from our general knowledge of what they had to contend with in climate, forest, cave, and floods. these early people, it is presumed from certain discoveries, had long known the art of coarsely weaving flax and wool, which must soon have been in general use, from its being healthier and cleaner than the garments of skin. and very probably a coarse linen, with simple dyes of red, blue, yellow, and brown, was in use here when the romans came. the head-dress consisted of a cap of fur or wool, probably decorated with a feather, over loose and most likely very unkempt hair falling to the shoulders. the gauls cut their locks from the back of the head, often tying up the remainder in a tuft on the top; no doubt the hair was sometimes plaited or pinned up with wood, bone, or bronze ornaments. bone pins, teeth, and boar tusks were carried in the ears, as well as studs of bone or stone in the underlip, and even the cheek may have been so decorated, as it was amongst the esquimaux. the face and body were painted with red and white ochre and a blue stain. the neck was adorned with strings of teeth, stones, amber, jet, bronze, and probably beads of glass or baked clay coloured. amulets and tokens, armlets and bracelets were all in use. also the torque, a twisted rod of gold flattened or curled together at the ends, was a mark of dignity. a wristlet of wood, bone, or leather was worn when the bow and arrows were used. the arms were a spear of flint or bronze and a dagger of the same, a hatchet or heavy club, a mace studded with flint or bronze spikes, and the sling, which would have necessitated a leather wallet to carry the stones; fish spears and snags. also the bolas for felling cattle seems to have been known; in fact nearly all the usual implements appertaining to savage life were in use. [illustration: plate ii.-- (_a_) elizabethan robe in plush. - . (_b_) elizabethan robe in silk brocade. - . (_c_) elizabethan male robe in velvet brocade. - . (_d_) back-piece of elizabethan doublet in embroidered linen. - . _measures, see p. ._ _sleeve pattern of c, see p. ._] the first item of male attire was of two skins fastened at the shoulders, and from this we get the early chasuble form (which may be so beautifully treated, even to the present time), girt with a leather thong or strap at the waist. one skin lapped the other, and hardly needed sewing together at the sides, while thus it was easier to throw off; it may also have been tied up between the legs. the fur was worn both inside and out, according to the weather; this large skin wrap would also be worn cross-ways with the right shoulder free, and the simple cloak of various lengths with a hole for the head to pass through was no doubt one of the first discoveries in costume. a loin cloth or skin may have been worn alone, caught up through the legs and fastened at the back of the waist with a heavy belt and set well down the hips. this would hold a number of personal necessities, in the shape of a wallet and dagger. the legs would be wrapped with skins, tied up or crossed by leather or sinew thongs, or with hemp or grass rope. skins were probably also used on the feet, gathered and tied above the instep and round the ankle. the enumeration of these items will give a pretty definite idea of how the early race would appear in their more or less attired form. in fighting, they cleared for action (as it were) and discarded all clothing, their only protection being a shield of wicker or wood covered with leather; it may have been studded with bronze plates or painted with grotesque characters, as were their own bodies, in true savage style, to strike fear into their enemies; it is even possible feather decorations formed part of their "get up." chapter ii the development of costume to the tenth century. female. the female head-dress consisted chiefly of flowing hair banded with a circlet of various shapes, but a development of braiding plaits is found very early, and the hair was probably arranged so before the roman era. these plaits were generally brought over the shoulder to the front, the hair being parted in the centre, thus making an oval forehead. various caps began to show originality, and jewels were set in the centre of the forehead on the little crown-like hat, which must have been most becoming. squares of coloured stuffs were draped over the head and shoulders, sometimes upon white linen squares, and many ladies began to bind the face and head, shutting out the hair, in the th century. the kerchief draping is very important to study, because it was the general mode amongst the people. heavy collars of ornament and strings of beads, hanging even to the waist, are noticeable features of these centuries, also large ear-rings. a full cloak, with a large clasp or brooch, opened in front, or was turned to free one shoulder; there was also a long "drape" thrown round over the opposite shoulder or brought picturesquely over the head. the ecclesiastical form of cloak as described in the male attire was also formed about the th century; its graceful line was frequently bordered completely with a band of ornament, and it was clasped just across the breasts. the complete circular cloak, with a hole for the head, is seen very early, decorated with a pinked edge, which may also be noted on some of the short dresses of the middle classes. aprons are no doubt of the earliest origin. a loose tunic falling to the hips was girded rather high up the body, as in the classic dress, and bands passing both outside or crossing between the breasts and going over the shoulder came from the same source; these were with, or without, short sleeves to the elbow. a long loose robe was the chief attire to the th century, belted rather high in the waist, and caught up with a girdle at the hips; these girdles gave a great interest to the early centuries, with the art of arranging the fullness of skirt into its hold. [illustration: fig. .] from the th century the dress became closer fitting, and a short bodice is seen; the neck was cut very low, either square or round in shape, and this style had short tight sleeves or tight sleeves to the wrist. the later tunic of the th century marked the beginning of the slit-open upper sleeve, and a greater length of the neck opening, which came to be fastened down the front to the waist. the early skirts (to the th century) were hung from the hips, and were often attached to a heavy girdle band, the fullness was gathered mostly at the back and front; other skirts hung from a higher belt and were again caught up in the girdle. a =v=-shaped neck setting was worn by the franks, from which probably came the shaped front piece that will interest us in the th century. the shoes were similar to the male shapes described later, and the same mode of binding the stockings was sometimes imitated. the development of costume to the tenth century. male. in taking the long period from the roman occupation to the th century, we can discover a real development of style in costume, as with the system of vassalage a distinction of class arose. no doubt the romans introduced a finer tuition of weaving, needlecraft, decoration, and dyeing; and later the various peoples coming from the continent, when settled under alfred in the th century, produced a solid style of barbaric splendour. [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] the male hair dressing, from the rugged mass of hair, soon became well combed and trimmed square across the neck: ear-rings may still have been in use by some nobles till the th century, and chaplets were worn upon the hair. the saxon beard was divided into two points. small round tight caps of wool, fur, or velvet, and rush or straw hats of a definite shape were in use to the th century. tight caps, with lappets tied under the chin, and hoods appear on the short capes about the th century, or probably earlier. the garment was of the simplest form, cut like a plain square loose shirt to the middle of the thigh, and this was put on over the head. the opening to pass the head through was the first part to receive a band of decoration. the sides were sometimes opened to the hips and the front caught between the legs and held at the waist. a garment opened down the front, and another wrapped across to either shoulder is also seen. a belt girt the waist, and the tunic was pulled loosely over it. this also carried the essential requirements in the shape of a pouch, dagger, knife, comb, sword, &c. the neck was ornamented with chains of bronze, gold, beads, and charms, and up to the th century a bronze ornamental armlet was worn, besides a wristlet. the men of the ruling class from the th century were clothed in a long garment of simple shape, falling to the ankle, richly bordered at the hem and neck. this generally had long tight sleeves, and often over this a shorter tunic, reaching just below the knee, sometimes sleeveless, or with rather full sleeves tightening to the wrist. [illustration: fig. .] a plain square chasuble shape was in fashion from the th century, reaching to the bottom of the calf of the leg, and richer materials began to be used; no belt was passed round this, as it was allowed to fall straight. loose breeches were worn from very early times, and a loose trouser to the ankle, being tied there or bound crosswise from the boot sometimes right up the thigh. the same binding was done even with the bare legs and later hose: close-fitting short breeches and cloth hose became a feature in the th century, and with the latter an ornamental knee-piece or garter below the knee sometimes finished the strappings. the cloak was the "grand garment," heavily banded with ornament and fastened with a large clasp on one shoulder, or at the centre of the breast. long circular cloaks of varying lengths, put on over the head, were much favoured, and when caught up at the sides on either shoulder gave a fine draped effect. another cloak of ecclesiastical character, sloping in a curve from the neck and not meeting in front, is seen on many notable figures from the early th century, large clasps bridging the width low down on the chest. [illustration: plate iii.-- (_a_) elizabethan jump (or jacket). about . (_b_) portrait of a lady in embroidered costume. between and .] [illustration: fig. .--types of shoes. british, roman, norman to th century.] no doubt the sandal of various forms was much used for footwear through this period, also a simple low shoe which was held on by the leg-strappings, as, about the th century, shoes are seen with loops at the upper edge, these being attachments for the binding, and this was no doubt a method from the prehistoric times. there was also a soft boot reaching to the calf, laced up the front; and, after the th century, a rather pointed shoe, open down the instep, laced, tied, or gathered into a buckle about the ankle. chapter iii tenth to the fifteenth century. female. the head-dress of women now began to show a preference to confine the hair with nets and to close in the face, which continued till the th century. the circlet and long plait or plaits and the flowing hair remained till the th century. in the th century we discover the hair gathered in nets at either side of the head, covering the ears. a low-crowned hat was bound over with a band of lawn or fine material passing underneath the chin, otherwise the plaits were looped up under a circlet which was also worn with the flowing hair. a square effect was aimed at in the th century with tight side-plaits bound into a shape or netted hair was strapped to the head as in fig. (see p. ). a fall of fine material softened the hard effect, and many ladies of quality bound the face, neck, and head in the wimple of fine linen, sometimes gathering this to the same quaint shape of the netted hair. i give a variety of these settings on page . a kerchief of linen coming round the neck was brought up tightly round the face and festooned on the top of the head, while another piece was pinned close to the brows and fell loosely to the shoulders, being often held on by a circlet as well. this character was maintained till the early th century, when a style of high peaked hats came into evidence, one shape of which became the most imposing feature of historic costume in the th century. it was still but a simple form in the middle of the th century, for another shape first gained predominance. early in this century also may be noted a curious shape like the cap of liberty, usually with a long tail at the back as drawn on page . this carried design to the eccentric forms of the pig-tailed hood, and then the rival of the high peaked hat took its place towards the end of the th century--a cushioned head-dress, which rose and divided in a hornlike structure. it started as in fig. , and i have illustrated its progress; the veil draping was a great feature, giving plenty of scope for individual fancy. it was, as a rule, richly decorated with gold and jewels, and the hair was completely enclosed in a gold net and a tight-fitting cap to hold this erection. large drop ear-rings were much worn, and a fine chain of gems encircled the neck or fell to the breast. [illustration: plate iv.-- (_c_) youth's jacket of linen embroidered in worsted. - . _pattern, see p. ._ (_d_) linen male jacket embroidered with gold and silk. - .] [illustration: fig. .--tenth to thirteenth century.] [illustration: fig. . _henry ii._ _john_ _henry i._ _richard i._] [illustration: fig. .--twelfth to fourteenth century.] in the th century a long close-fitting robe was in fashion, sometimes with a deep =v=-shaped neck opening, though usually the neck was cut to a round form. some sleeves were tighter with a small cuff, but usually the outer garment had a falling sleeve with a square or round end showing the tight undersleeve. the outer sleeve varied much in length, from the elbow or hand dropping even to the ground; it was narrow and widened through the th century, when its edge was cut into various patterns as in fig. (see p. ). in the th century we notice a long sleeve opened at the elbow for the under sleeve to come through, which beautiful style continued to the middle of the th century. [illustration: fig. . _norman, th century_ _saxon, th century_] [illustration: fig. .--fourteenth century, st half.] [illustration: fig. .--fourteenth century, nd half.] with the th century came the first corselet from the waist to the hip, clasping a loose tunic with an under-dress taking a long pointed train. the manner of tucking the tunic under the corselet when it was worn over it, and so creating festoons, is worthy of notice as interesting in arrangement and design. the th century parti-coloured and striped dresses foreshadowed the heraldic fashion, which must be studied for its proportion and treatment of decorative colour-values in counterchange to get the true value of its noble effects. a great feature now appears in the chasuble-shaped front or setting to a closely cut jacket. this ultimately becomes the decorative stomacher through the later periods, and it is very interesting to note its development. in the th century this jacket was a fur construction of a long simple form opened at the sides to the hips for the sleeves to come through; it had a straight hem or was rounded at the front points, and a chasuble form of it was treated as in fig. or in conjunction with a short cape; it was chiefly a decoration of ermine. it grew into a complete jacket, and in the th century it was heavily ornamented with gems; and the simple front, from being a feature outside the jacket, was later often enclosed at the sides. the jacket itself is beautiful in form and proportion, and the curved band of design over the hips makes a nice foil to the curved front. this pattern is plainly derived from the effect of the rich girdle that was at first seen through the side openings and few jackets are without it, the usual shaping of the neck with most of these was square. [illustration: fig. .--nos. to , th century. nos. and , th century.] in the first quarter of the th century the setting of the neck was of a round shape, and after a raised or curved form is favoured. later still, and with the hornlike head-dress, a very deep =v= shape, open almost to the belt was the mode, often being filled in with velvet. at the same time some began to take up the fashions of a very high collar and a round-shaped body and sleeves, as in fig. (see p. ), with which a wide pointed belt is seen. some robes were opened in front up to the height of the girdle, though many dresses were worn without girdles after the th century. decorated pockets are sometimes seen in the later period, and an interesting hand-covering or falling cuff came with them. [illustration: fig. .--nos. to , th century. nos. to , th century.] the cloak as described in the th century still continued till the th, as well as the light wrap which may almost be placed with any period, though mostly a feature of the more classic styles. skirts and underskirts were worn with trains. they were mostly banded with wide borders of ornament up to the th century, the fullness being often gathered to the back and front. the chasuble-shaped overdress was worn to the middle of the th century, sleeveless, and, laced or sewn tight to the figure from the arm to the hip, or completely down the sides, generally reached just below the knee. the shoes were of much the same character as those of the male examples illustrated, though they hardly reached the same extravagance in length, owing, no doubt, to the feet of woman being hampered by her skirt; but i suspect they even braved high wooden clogs, as we know they did the tall chopins of the th century, to heighten their stature. [illustration: plate v.-- (_a_) jerkin. period james i. (_b_) lady's bodice of slashed and vandyked satin. - . (_c_) jerkin of embroidered linen. - . (_d_) jerkin of embroidered linen. - . _pattern measurements, see p. ._] tenth to the fifteenth century. male. from the th to the th century, we find costume developing rapidly into elaborate and interesting designs. close relations with the continent brought new ideas, and rich velvets and brocades interwoven with gold enhanced the gorgeousness of attire, while the introduction of heraldic design brought in a very picturesque element. hats and head-dresses began to become important features, enlarging to eccentric shapes and proportions, only equalled in the extravagant part of the th century. it may be noted that feminine fashion, as it assumes new characters and proportions, affects the style of the male clothes in the same way, as, when a high or pointed head-dress comes in, the male hat also increases its size; the same with curved or angular designs, full or tight sleeves. the hair was worn long and rather squared in shape at the back till the end of the th century. a tendency to shut in the face by close hoods tied under the chin is remarked, and this forms a strong feature of the th and th centuries. ear-rings were seldom worn after the th century; but the neck was generally adorned with heavy chain decorations. beards assumed a pointed shape in accordance with this development of fashion, and double-pointed beards were revived between and . hats of straw with mushroom brims and round tops came into vogue in the th century, covered with coloured materials and finished with a spike or button at the top, and the crowns of these took a pointed shape in the th century. the usual cap with folded brim had a loose crown, and we find this began to lengthen and fall over to one side in the th century, and continued to elongate till, in the th century, it often dropped to the knee in a long thin point. in the th century it took a fullness of loose folds, with serrated or foliated edges falling to the shoulder as in fig. (see p. ). a close helmet-shaped cap is seen in the th century, with a falling point from the crown, and the th century brought in the higher crowned hat, with a long peaked front, turned up at the back. feathers were worn at the front, back, or side of hats, and sometimes on the front of the hoods; these increased their dimensions in height and peak, till the straight-up high hat, which was often brimless, came in the th century. the early hood or cowl soon began to vary its design, for in the th century it was often a part of, or attached to, a chasuble shape falling back and front, or with the long front, stopping at a short cape length behind. a note of interest in the th century appears, where the forehead part of the hood is turned up, showing a coloured lining, and at times the fashionable serrated edge surrounding the face is seen. [illustration: fig. . _ th century_ _ th century_ _ th century_] [illustration: fig. .--fourteenth century.] [illustration: plate vi.-- (_a_) collar and cuffs set with lace. - . (_b_) embroidered leather jerkin. - . (_c_) top of stocking. embroidered linen. - .] [illustration: fig. .--twelfth to thirteenth century.] the chasuble-shaped garment was a feature often worn over the coat until the end of the th century, and was generally worn long with the elongated fashion of the th century, and short with the shorter tunics of the th century. they are found very wide in the th century, and so fall well down over the shoulder, where they are often laced a short distance up, creating an interesting feature. cloaks were not so much in favour with the heavier cowl and cape, but they were used, fastened by brooches to either shoulder rather at the back, after the th century. [illustration: fig. .--fourteenth century.] a very tight-fitting suit called justacorps came into use from the th century, and developed a padded round-shaped body towards the end of the th century; the closely-cut body was buttoned up to the throat, or was set with a high collar for the first time. the tights came over it, sometimes rather high up the waist, being laced to it. a long tunic was chiefly favoured during the th and th centuries with short or long cuffless sleeves, and a full bell-shaped falling sleeve showed a close-fitting under one. these tunics were chiefly open at the neck as in the earlier times, though a slight difference to be noted is a =v=-shaped opening in the th century, which is developed in the th century; they were also split up the sides, even to the hips. some were very full in shape, and were gathered to either side as in the illustration; others had the body closely fitted and full only in the skirt, but as a rule one finds this latter shape only reaches just below the knee. they were often tucked into the belt in front, showing a rich underskirt. a girdle (besides a belt) was worn on the hips with the longer tunics, as in fig. (see p. ), the dagger and pouch being carried in front on the girdle, and not the belt. a small dagger was often slung at the back or front of the neck, as an ornament at the end of the th century. [illustration: fig. .--fourteenth century.] tights to the waist were worn with both long and short tunics, and retained the crossed binding up the legs to the th century, in the various designs of page . parti-coloured tights came in with the th century, carrying out the heraldic character of dress, and this may be found till about . a sandal shoe was much worn up to the th century, with strappings to various heights up the leg, this even over the short top-boots, but the usual shoe opened down the front of the instep to the toe, which was rather pointed in shape, and it was curved or square at the ankle. the illustration gives a good variety of the prevalent forms. the stocking-boot is also another characteristic of this earlier time, as well as the commoners' woollen gaiters, worn as in fig. , on the seated figure, which were in use to the middle of the th century. [illustration: fig. .--twelfth and thirteenth centuries.] in the illustrations which show no shoe on the tights, it will be understood that a sole of leather was sewn on to the under part of the foot. this practice is even seen to-day on the continent, where the clog is mostly in use. a soft boot, reaching to the calf, was worn till the th century, with the top folded or trimmed with fur, the latter being generally laced down the front, even to the instep: the shape of these only varied in the length of the pointed toes as the style developed. the long-pointed shoes began to increase all through the th century, and in the th century they reached their greatest length, when the points were often tied up to a garter just below the knee. wooden clogs were much used, and were often considerably raised. iron circular supports were also in use at the end of this time; these were the foretaste of the eccentric chopins of the th century, which were more favoured on the continent than here. the pointed toes also were made to curl outwards, giving a splay-footed effect, late in the th century. [illustration: fig. .--fourteenth and fifteenth centuries.] chapter iv fifteenth century. female. we have now arrived at the height of eccentric fashion in mediæval head-dress. the hornlike creations, studded with jewels, and peaks of wondrous height, both draped with fine muslins and often completely shutting away the hair from sight, had a supporting cap which mostly came over ears and cheeks, and a clutch is seen on the forehead, at times concealed by a jewel. the hair was generally allowed to fall loose under the back drape, or a long plait is sometimes seen at the back with the first-named head-dress. the back drape setting from the brow down the back was well conceived to balance the high spire, but it seems to have been discarded during the reign of edward v, and light veil falls were worn which often came half over the face. in henry vii's time the extreme fashion came in the shape of a closely-fitting curved cap, with a fall of material over the back. the ermine-trimmed jacket was still in favour to the middle of the last-named reign, when it was worn low down over the hips. [illustration: fig. .--fifteenth century, st half.] [illustration: fig. .--middle of fifteenth century to sixteenth century.] [illustration: plate vii.-- (_a_) herald's coat. embroidered velvet and silk. st half th century. measured pattern, page . (_b_) lady's bodice of black velvet. - . _measurement, see p. ._ (_c_) black silk jerkin. - .] [illustration: fig. .--fifteenth century, st half.] the chief dress of this period had a =v=-shaped collar-front meeting at the waist, mostly made in black material or fur. it was wide on the shoulder, and seems to have been stiffened to set out; the =v= shape was generally filled in with velvet, and a very wide band encircled the waist; a girdle is occasionally noted. the keys' pocket and other requisites were generally carried on the underskirt during these times. the skirt was full and gathered to the back in a train, the gathers often running into the bodice; a very wide border is prevalent, even to the middle of the thigh. tight sleeves are usual, and hanging sleeves were worn, mostly set in a very short sleeve, which assume a puff-shape in henry vii's reign; long cuffs, almost covering the hand, are seen on many sleeves. [illustration: fig. .--fifteenth century, nd half.] [illustration: fig. .--fifteenth century, nd half.] [illustration: plate viii.--(_a_) (_b_) (_c_) three suits. period charles ii.] [illustration: fig. .--end of fifteenth century.] modes of opening the skirt up to the hips occasionally showed themselves, and even the sides to the hips are seen laced. in the earlier dress, about , the neck setting of dress became very square, and was filled with fine-drawn lawn. the square shape rises in a curved centre before the end of this period, and a close-fitting robe was worn with a girdle, often opened up the sides. the short upper sleeve and full outer sleeve so much in vogue gave place to a divided upper and lower sleeve, laced or tied with ribbon, with puffs of lawn pulled through the openings at shoulder and elbow, and down the back of the forearm. slashes are now seen in most sleeves, and an italianesque character pervaded the fashion. high, soft boots and shoes of a similar shape to the male description were worn, and changed when the square-toe shoes came in. through this period there are many interesting details of costume to study, while gilt tags, finishing laces, and ribbons are to be remarked from this period. fifteenth century. male. [illustration: fig. .--fifteenth century.] [illustration: fig. .--fifteenth century, st half.] [illustration: fig. .--middle of fifteenth century.] the chief shapes to mark in this century in male head-dress is the increased height of the tall hats which rise to vie with the female fashions. we still see a round hat with a rolled edge and long fall over one side, besides shorter folds in the crown, both scalloped or foliated at the edge, and this shape may be noted till about . some of these hats were made without a crown, as in fig. (see p. ); the roll was decorated, as a rule, with jewelled studs. a top hat, something like our present shape, appears, but more belled at the top and also a padded, rolled brim. it was made in various rich materials, and often decorated with jewels. the peak-fronted hat still continued to be favoured till about , its chief difference being a crown more eccentric in height. tall cylinder hats, with folded brims or no brim, and other shapes are illustrated. the variety is so great through this period that it is well to study the vagaries of fashion which i have illustrated in sequence as far as possible; they were mostly used till about the last quarter of this century, when the low-crowned flat hat with turned-up brim began to secure the fashion. this was generally worn tilted on one side and often over a scarlet skull-cap. a large bunch of plumes came in with this hat, set up from the front, curving backwards, and giving a very grand effect: with most of the tall hats the feather was set at the back. [illustration: fig. .--fifteenth century.] [illustration: fig. .--fifteenth century, st half.] [illustration: fig. .--fifteenth century, nd half.] the notable change in the tunic, which was worn both very short and to the ground, was the arrangement of folds to the back and front, gathered to a =v= shape at the waist. the hanging sleeve began to go out of favour after the middle of the century, but the sleeve or cuff covering the hand was continued till the end of this century. a sleeve, full at the shoulder, is found, and short, round, padded sleeves came in, worn over a close-fitting sleeve. this short sleeve became raised on the shoulder, and was cut or looped up the outer side: a long loose outer sleeve is also seen in conjunction with these short ones. a very short jacket is notable, of a plain square shape, with a plain sleeve on the left arm and a hanging sleeve on the right to the knee. the tight-fitting jerkin, laced down the front, was worn with this as with most other coats. [illustration: fig. .--end of fifteenth century.] [illustration: fig. .--fifteenth century, nd half.] [illustration: plate viiia-- (_a_) suit of embroidered silk. - . (_b_) three sword hangers embroidered in gold. charles ii. (_c_) braided suit. - .] [illustration: fig. .--fifteenth-century shoes and clogs.] the high collar to the throat had gone out for a collar opened in front. very short and very long "chasubles" were worn with or without sleeves which were gathered high and full at the shoulders. the sleeves were now sometimes slit open at the back and held with several ties, as linen sleeves are now shown with these. parti-coloured tights were not so much favoured through this period, but a decorated thigh, or part of the thigh and knee, was a favourite method of enrichment. [illustration: fig. .] a long coat came in at the later part of this time, with a deep =v=-shaped collar meeting at the waist; it was also cut into a square shape at the shoulders, as in fig. (see p. ). a loose bell-shaped sleeve usually went with this, often opened in the front of the upper arm. a short square cape is at times seen in conjunction with this. a low square or round neck shape came in during the last quarter of this century, filled in with a fine gathered lawn and a tight-fitting coat with a pleated skirt and full padded sleeves, or a tight sleeve with a full puff or spherical upper part. [illustration: fig. . nos. , , , , , , , , second half of th century. nos. , , , , , , , , , , variety of shapes from to .] [illustration: fig. . no. . th century. . th century. . " " . late th cent. . - . . " " . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . " " ] [illustration: plate ix.-- (_a_) lady's embroidered silk jacket. - . (_b_) lady's bodice of silk brocade. - .] [illustration: fig. .--decorated leather, th and th centuries. _comb case_ _purse_ _cut leather. cent._ _leather_ _pierced leather, cent._ _bronze studs or cent._ _metal studs_ _incised lines with metal studs cent._] shoes and boots were still worn with very long pointed toes till about , when a proclamation was issued for beaks or piked shoes not to pass two inches, and after this time a broad round-toed shoe began to appear. soft high boots to the top of the thigh, with folded top, belong to this century, as well as the fashionable boot to the calf. the sword or dagger was carried towards the front or side, and a small dagger across the belt at the back. the pouch or purse was also used as a dagger support. chapter v sixteenth century. character of trimmings. before the th century we find the art of decoration in costume had been confined chiefly to applied ornamental bands at the neck, waist, and borders of skirt and cloak. they had up till this time utilised, with great artistry of design (no doubt partly due to the heraldic study), the patterns of the finely decorated damasks and velvets. the counter colour effects and relative proportions, such as a small-patterned, dull-coloured silk setting off a large full-coloured design was ably considered, as well as the introduction of a nicely-balanced black note or setting, which proved these designers were highly skilled in judgment of style. they also discovered the art of giving enrichment and lightness to the effect by means of the various serrated edgings to the materials, which also gave a flutter to the movement. a preference of lacing for fastening added to the charm of the dress, but the long rows of close buttons were also a feature of the clinging robes, the clasps and brooches, neck-chains, girdle, belt, and wallet being further very important items of enrichment to the effect. on coming to the th century we enter what may be termed the slashed and puffed period. the sleeves of henry viii's reign are very rich in design and jewel-setting, the design of the sleeve as in fig. giving a striking effect, the angle of the top sleeve being held out by the stiffness of the under silk one. the neck-setting and festooning of the jewel-chains play an important part in the design on the plain velvet corset bodices. the head-dress is one of the most remarkable, and gave a great chance for individual arrangement in binding the back fall to set at various angles on the shaped cap piece, combining severity with a big loose draping which is extremely picturesque. with edward vi commences what may be termed the braided period of decoration. this latter came suitably with the stiffer corsage and set up. mary's reign was not of attractive severity, but the over-robe with the short circular sleeve at the shoulder and high collar was a graceful creation, and was retained by many as late as . there was little to admire in the elizabethan age as regards design, except the beauty of the materials and the exquisite needlework. the proportions of the dresses were exceedingly ugly, and the pleated farthingale an absurdity. the male dress had much interest and often beauty of setting and decorative effect. the slashed materials gave a broken quality to what would otherwise be a hard effect, and it also cleverly introduced another colour change through the suit. there will be found many examples in these illustrations of the pricked and punctured designs on leather-work which are worth examining for modern treatment. quilting and pleating were ably combined with the braiding, and we see the clever adaptation of straw patterns sewn on (a feature of the late th century), which harmonised with the gold braidings or gold lace, or resembled the same effect. the trimmings of braid were often enriched with precious or ornamental stones and pearls, the stomacher, waist, front band down the skirt, and borders of most garments. the points of slashes were often held by jewelled settings, and the long slashes were caught here and there with the same. another important item was the black stitchwork on linen, sometimes mingled with gold, so highly prized now for its beauty of design and effect, but beginning probably in the reign of henry vii. short coats of this type of the elizabethan age are marvels of skill, and many caps are still in existence. fine linen ruffs and collars were often edged with this work, as well as with gold lace. jackets and caps, both male and female, bearing geometrical and scroll designs in gold, filled in with coloured needlework of flowers, birds, or animals have happily been preserved for our admiration. sequins appear on work from henry viii's time, and were much appreciated by the elizabethan workers, who no doubt found the trembling glitter added much to the gold-lace settings and delicate veilings: long pear-shaped sequins were favoured for this. sleeves were often separate, and could be changed at will. sixteenth century. henry viii. female. the hair at this period was parted in the centre and gathered into a plait at the back; it was also seen rather full and waved at the sides of the head, and a small circlet was often carried across the brow. a cap of velvet or gold brocade, sometimes with a padded front, curved over the ears to the neck, keeping the shape of the head. over this again a velvet fall was turned back from the front or shaped as in the illustration, reaching to the shoulder. these falls were also bound into set-out shapes, which gave many picturesque effects. dress had now taken a new phase, and the set bodice became a lasting feature. at this period the waist was rather short, and the neck, arranged in a low square or round form, generally filled in with gathered lawn. the upper part of the sleeve was often divided from the bodice by ties with lawn puffs, and was made in a full circular form, slashed or puffed and banded, with a tight-fitting sleeve on the forearm. another type divided the upper and lower part of the arm at the shoulder and elbow, the forearm being effectively tied or laced, and the under lawn sleeve pulled through; small slashings are also seen on these. at times a bell-shaped sleeve was worn, showing a slashed or puffed under one. many dresses were still cut in one, and were often high-necked; with these usually a girdle or band of drapery was worn, and some skirts opened up the front, showing a rich underskirt. [illustration: fig. .--sixteenth century, nd quarter.] [illustration: fig. .--period henry viii.] full skirts, heavily pleated at the waist, were worn in the earlier part of this reign, banded in varying widths of designs to about the knee; but a new development was in progress--a stiff, bell-shaped dress, set on hoops over a rich underskirt which usually bore a jewelled band down the centre, the upper one being divided in front to display this feature. the bodice with this type becomes longer in the waist, and was made on a stiff corset. gloves are occasionally seen, serrated at the cuff-end. shoes of the slashed character and square toes were also worn by the ladies, but many preferred a shoe with a moderately rounded toe. the first mention of a leather umbrella is , but this is a rare instance, as they were not in use till the th century here, though they are noted in continental prints during the th century. [illustration: fig. .--sixteenth-century modes, st half henry viii.] sixteenth century. henry viii. male. the modes at the end of the last century now developed into a heavier character of design. the long hair soon began to be closely cut, and a short beard came into fashion. a flat type of hat was worn, with serrated brim, or tabs which could be turned down at times, and others were kept in place by a lacing cord through holes. there was also a flat "tam o' shanter" shape, generally worn well tilted on one side, and amongst the upper classes mostly adorned with feathers. the =v=-shaped collar, or opening to the belt, was still retained on the jerkin, and plain or pleated skirts are seen, also a square close-fitting vest, with a low square neck, filled with gathered lawn, or one with a high neck and short collar, on which a very small ruff appeared for the first time, and at the wrist as well. these were now decorated with long slashes or gathered puffs: heraldic design was still seen on the breast, and even parti-colour was worn, but this character was now treated more by decorating with coloured bands on the tunics or tights. [illustration: plate x.-- (_a_) black velvet bodice. - . (_b_) five embroidered waistcoats. between and . _pattern, see p. ._] [illustration: fig. .--period henry viii.] [illustration: fig. .--cap shapes. period henry viii.] [illustration: fig. .--variety of shapes and slashing. henry viii.] long coats were still worn of the shape described at the end of the th century, but a short surcoat was the mode, reaching just below the knee, sleeveless, or with the various hanging sleeves of this period, the fronts usually turned back to form a wide collar, either round or square in shape on the shoulder, or at times falling to a deep square at the back. the sleeves were full in the upper part, tightening to the wrist, sometimes open up to the elbow and laced, or they were pleated into a full round shape at the shoulder. puffs and slashings increased in these designs, and by we find the sleeves mostly divided into puffed and slashed forms, which grew to fantastic proportions. very short, tight breeches or trunks, with a front flap or codpiece, were decorated to match the body design and colour schemes; they increased in length to the knee, or just below, during this reign, and usually finished in a serrated roll. [illustration: plate xi.-- leather boots and shoes. between and . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . " . - . . - . . - . . - .] [illustration: fig. .--footwear, - .] shoes were of the square form, some very short in front, held on by a strap across the instep, others with fronts to the instep. the corners were often brought out to a point on each side of the toes, and the mode of decorating with slashing and punctures made them very interesting. the sides of these shoes are very low, from ¾ to inch, and no heels are seen. a big, round shape was also favoured, which increased in width till a proclamation forbade it exceeding inches. chains were still a decorative feature round the neck, and the belt carried a sword and pouch, or, amongst the working classes, other necessities. sixteenth century. the reigns of edward vi and mary. female. in the reign of edward vi, which was so short, as also in that of mary, there was little time to form a real character. these reigns form developing links to the elizabethan era, so i have taken them in one chapter. [illustration: fig. . fig. . fig. . elizabethan modes.] [illustration: fig. .--costumes, - .] [illustration: fig. .--costumes, - .] with edward vi the same shaped cap is seen as that of henry viii, and with mary's accession, the head-dress is curved to the head in a like manner, but it now became more of a hat form and took a brim curved in on the brow; this was often worn over the little tight curved cap, or showed the hair waved out at the sides, often netted with gold and pearls. a fall of velvet, silk, or veiling was still retained till the very high ruff or collar came in the elizabethan days. a small-crowned hat, with a brooch and feather in front, and a full gathered crown came in before elizabeth's time, when we see many eccentric shapes, such as the tall hat with a feather at the side, and the witch-like hats towards the end of her reign. the bodice, which became longer in the first reign, still retained the full belled oversleeve or the full puffed sleeve to the end of mary's reign, also the same square neck shape with curved-up front, now often filled with silk quilted with pearls up to the neck. high-necked dresses set with a small ruff became general in mary's reign. we also find a tight sleeve gathered in a circular puff at the shoulder or set in a rolled epaulet. the same shaped skirt of the hooped bell form (sometimes very pleated in mary's reign) or divided in front to show the underskirt as described under henry viii, was worn. the short square shape and the heavy round shoe is seen in mary's reign, but fashion then preferred a rather pointed oval shoe, well up the instep with higher sides, decorated with characteristic slashing. gloves are seen in many portraits up to this period, but of a plain make minus embroidery, and a circular fan of feathers was carried. sixteenth century. the reigns of edward vi and mary. male. with edward vi and mary a more refined and sober type of style set in. the hair was now worn short and combed backwards. the flat hat of the earlier shapes lasted to elizabeth's reign; becoming smaller in width, with a turned-down, curved brim and a fuller crown encircled with a gold band or set with a feather worn at the right-hand side. a small tight-fitting round hat with a rolled brim and a feather in front is also of this later mode. through these reigns a small square turned-over collar or a very small ruff set on a high collar came into use, which increased to a larger ruff in mary's reign. a small ruff was also worn at the wrist, many of these were edged with black-stitch designs. the heavy puffed sleeves became tight and started from a small epaulet or puffed roll; some of these had a small cuff at the wrist or a frill. braided designs became very elaborate on a close-fitting, padded, and round-shaped jerkin with a short skirt, which appeared in the first reign, and this skirt was often long enough to fasten just under the codpiece. short trunks at times worn half-way down the thigh were slashed, banded, and puffed for decoration. no parti-colour was now worn or striped effects on tights, except amongst the soldiers in the reign of mary. short capes to the length of the trunks of a plain round form sloping from the shoulders, or a square type with a high square collar and loose sleeves, are seen; a tunic also of the earlier character with a =v=-shaped collar and full sleeve comes into this reign, and we note the earlier types of shoes mingling with the newer pointed oval-shaped shoe which now continued for the remainder of this century. [illustration: fig. .--costumes, - .] [illustration: fig. .--costumes, - .] in mary's reign the round-shaped doublet began to protrude from the breast to the waist in a round form with slightly longer skirts or small tabs, while the trunks assumed large circular proportions and were sometimes set on tight knee-breeches. the capes remained about the same. sixteenth century. elizabeth. female. the costly splendour of attire is well known in elizabeth's reign, which began with the same form of hair and head-dress as with mary, the hat being set rather higher on the hair. the ruffs, which were imported already starched from holland, assumed larger proportions and complications when the methods of starching became known in england about . stow describes ruffs growing to a quarter of a yard deep; these were no doubt supported by piccalilloes, though they are not actually mentioned till after , but they surely came with the fan-shaped structures of these later days. white, red, blue or purple colours were used in the starching, and yellow in the latter days of this century. the introduction of this curved fanlike collar setting became a grand and complicated feature right into the th century. "make up" became very apparent on the faces at this time, for bishop hall censured the fashion in a choice sermon, saying, "hear this, ye plaster-faced jezabels! god will one day wash them with fire and brimstone." [illustration: fig. .--elizabethan modes.] [illustration: plate xii.-- (_a_) lady's outdoor costume. - . (_b_) costume. early th century. (_c_) silk brocade dress. - .] [illustration: fig. . - - - - - ] the bodices grew very long and pointed in the waist, the neck setting being mostly treated in the same =v= shape, even open down to the waist point was filled with a decorated stomacher, and a deep oval-shaped neck was seen at the end of the reign. an outer opened sleeve was now favoured, caught in front at the elbow and hanging to the knee over a fairly tight undersleeve with a turned-back lace cuff or ruffle. with this came the high-set fan ruff on its wooden support at the back of the neck, and consequently a higher coiffure. [illustration: fig. . nos. , , , - , and other shoe forms worn in the reign of elizabeth.] the same character of skirt continued as in the earlier reigns on hoops at the lower part, but they became much fuller and rounder at the hips till about , when the full pleated skirt was supported on a farthingale or hoop which was set with a gathered circle in the same goffered design as the ruffs at the edge. these reached their extreme dimensions at the end of this reign, when the sleeves also assumed a full padded shape and large epaulets also came in. an overdress with a full pleated back (like the watteau dress) was in fashion from the middle of this reign, and we are lucky to possess some specimens in the victoria and albert museum of which i am able to give the dimensions. small looking-glasses were carried, and were also inset on the round feather fans. perfumed gloves, elaborately embroidered, were introduced during this reign. silk stockings were worn by elizabeth for the first time in , and worsted stockings were made in england in . corsets of pierced steel are seen in france from the late th and th century, and may have been in use here, though wood, cane, and whalebone were the chief supports. shoes became narrow and even pointed, while the heel began to increase to considerable heights. the buskins of queen elizabeth now at oxford are raised to inches in height by the aid of a thick sole, and shoes a and b, fig. , are also reported to have belonged to her. chopins for heightening the stature were in use on the continent, but i believe did not appear here; but very thick corked soles and high heels were introduced for this purpose. [illustration: plate xiii.-- (_a_) silk coat. - . (_b_) brocade silk coat. - . (_c_) embroidered cloth coat. - . _pattern, see p. ._] sixteenth century. elizabeth. male. in this reign a very neat small-pointed beard was the fashion, the hair being brushed up as high as possible and often fulled out at the sides, and a "chic" appearance was sought after. a stiff belled top-hat with an egret at the right side made its first appearance with a curved brim, also one of a tapered shape with a smallish round brim, and another very small round hat with a curved brim, a clasp and feather being mostly worn on the front of each. the brims of all the hats began to enlarge at the end of the century when the very high crowned wide brimmed hat made its appearance, sometimes with a peaked top, and beaver is first mentioned in their make. large circular ruffs became all the rage besides the small turned-over collar. the round doublet with protruding front became tighter at the waist, the protuberance taking a punchlike pointed form curving to almost between the legs and sloping sharply up the hips to the back. this was set with a very short tab or tabs on padded breeches tightening to the knee, which usually had very small trunks on the upper part, and large, stuffed trunk hose also appeared. the stockings were brought over these in a roll above the knee. up to this time tights were made of wool, worsted, fine cloth, frieze, and canvas. the slashings, pleating, and gatherings of the period were of a much neater character, and punched patterns and pricked materials came into use. close-fitting high boots, generally with serrated tops and thick soles curving into a short heel, are features of this time. the shoe had a long front decorated with slashings (often caught with jewels), and an oval toe which became almost pointed in the last years of this century. a short top-boot rising to the calf was also in use, mostly with a little fur edge at the top, and these were often pricked with patterns. [illustration: fig. .--elizabethan modes.] chapter vi the character of trimmings through the seventeenth century. james i. the braiding and small slashing continued of a similar character to the end of the elizabethan age. the slashing now began to be treated with a larger effect and less elaboration, but pricking and punching were still much used for enriching surfaces. an improved style of design was evident. the female bodice was arranged with a long stomacher, often shaped into curved forms at the point, and this was set with jewels or embroidery, otherwise the bodice was decorated with braiding and jewels as in elizabeth's reign. the full sleeves were embellished with small slashes (making diamond squares), puffs, or pricked and punched designs. a turned-up cuff or ruff of pointed lace finished the wrist, braided epaulets formed a beautiful feature of the effect, and the front of the underskirt was decorated with a jewelled band or conventional design, as was also the border of the overskirt. caps of an interesting curved form beautifully embroidered in gold and coloured silks are seen, of which i give patterns; also loose jackets of the same work were in use when not in full dress. charles i. many beautifully embroidered caps, jerkins, jackets, and shirts are seen at this period in gold and black or coloured silks. slashings of this reign, though in fashion, had commenced to go out; and those retained were of a large character, mostly from the neck or shoulder to the breast. the favoured sleeves were cut into straps to the elbow or wrist, and were often edged with braid, either side meeting together and lining the forearm, the body being treated in the same way. the open-fronted sleeve was set with buttons and loops or long braided buttonholes with frayed or knotted ends, though these were not generally fastened. the tight undersleeve was often set with gold or silver narrow braids down the front and back seams, and close lines of small braids horizontally round the arm, or vertically when the outer sleeve was treated horizontally, this gave a beautiful counterchanged effect. many of the ladies' caps of this time had beautiful gold scrolls, with flowers and birds embroidered in coloured silks, also loose jackets of the same were in use. the bodice was banded with braids or lace on the front and seams, and the stomacher was often of fine embroidery; set rosettes or bows were placed at the waist. other finishing effects of collar or sleeve, and the button and buttonhole decorations were made important features on both male and female sleeves, and even down the front of the outer skirt when it was not treated with lace. red heels to shoes began to be worn and continued to the end of the th century in marked favour. the commonwealth. during this short period the character and placing of braiding was the same as in the latter part of last reign; slashing had almost completely gone out, except for the treatment of some ladies' sleeves cut into bands. a very sober effect was assumed in colour schemes, besides a plainer treatment in decoration, and a deep plain collar or a small turn-over one was chiefly worn by the men, while the hat of the puritan rose to an absurd height, with a wide flat brim. charles ii. this may be named the period of ribbon trimmings, though braiding was treated in broad lines on the short jackets and sleeves, and down the sides of the breeches. a preference is shown for gold and silver lace, or amongst the élite purfled silk edges; the new mode being a decoration of groups of ribbon loops placed about the suit or dress. the notable feature with the female dress was the gathering of drapery by means of jewelled clasps, and groups of ribbon loops were also used, as with the male dress. the edges of the materials were sometimes cut into scalloped or classic forms, and a very simple voluminous character was fashion's aim. james ii and william and mary. with the later type of long-skirted coat which began in charles ii's reign, a heavy style of braiding and buttoning came into vogue, all the seams of the coat besides the pockets and cuffs and fronts being braided, which fashion continued to the end of the century. many coats began to be embroidered in the later reign, and waistcoats became a special feature for the display of fine needlecraft on the fronts and pockets, while quilting or imitations of it in various needlework designs are often seen. in the female dress a more elaborate interest was again taken in the stomachers and the jewelled claspings, while lengths of soft silk gathered into long puffs often edged the outer skirts or were used in smaller trimmings, and "classical" shapings of the edges of materials and sleeves are often seen, also heavy bands of rich embroidery bordered the underskirt or train. seventeenth century. james i. female. we find much the same high forms of set-up head-dress continuing in fashion as in the later years of elizabeth's reign; but the hair began to take a fuller shape, rather round, done up in tight frizzled curls, with the usual decorations of jewels, pearls, or set bows of this period. hats with high crowns and small straight brims, with an upright set of small plumes, gradually assumed a larger brimmed character--often turned up on one side. the same absurd pleated hoop, with its hanging skirt, continued for some time (worn rather short); but we also see the longer and very full hooped-out skirt, with an overskirt opened in the front. the stomacher front became much enlarged during this reign, many having shaped designs at the point. most bodices took a very deep curved front at the neck, and large padded sleeves narrowed at the wrist still continued, besides the high fan collar at the back of the neck, and large ruffs were used by many. there also appeared, later in the reign, a stiff round collar, set high in the neck, cut off straight across the front, and the bodice took a very low square-cut neck, with a raised curved shape at the centre of neck. the tighter sleeve was also worn throughout this time, with the overdress and sleeve hanging almost to the ground, which often had a very angular cuff. a little later some sleeves began to be gathered at intervals into puffy forms. the waist also showed signs of shortening. [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .--costumes. period, james i.] shoes with rounded toes and latchets holding large rosettes were chiefly worn, and heels of various heights are seen. chopins, still worn on the continent, do not seem to have appeared here. seventeenth century. james i. male. the hat was of the high-crowned type, perhaps higher than in the last reign. the brim had broadened, and feathers were placed upwards fantastically at the back and sides of crown. brims were often fastened up on the right side with a jewel; otherwise a band was buckled in front. the hair was now allowed to fall longer again, and a pointed or square-shaped beard with a brushed-up moustache was the mode. ruffs both large and small surrounded the neck, and a flat fan-shaped collar was seen in the earlier years. [illustration: plate xiv.-- (_a_) embroidered silk dress with pannier. - . (_b_) brocade dress and quilted petticoat. - . _pattern of bodice, p. ._] [illustration: fig. .--costumes. period james i.] the jerkin was close fitting and the length of the waist more normal, with less tendency to being tightened in, and not so deep in the front point, so as to set better over the very full trunks or breeches. the square tabs of the jerkin increased in size, and soon formed large flaps divided into three or four, to the centre of the back. sleeves were fairly tight and started from slightly larger epaulets, and were usually set at the wrist, either with a small ruff or turned-up lawn cuff, edged with lace. the trunks were padded in a very full shape and were much longer, just above the knee. also full padded-out breeches tapering to the knee or just above, where a large tie and bow hung at the side, and full square breeches not tied in, are also a feature of these days, usually banded with wide braids at ends and sides. upright pockets were made on either side towards the front, about two inches from the side seams. they fastened up the front in a pleated fold, many being decorated with punched, pricked, or slashed design of a smallish character. [illustration: fig. .--shapes of shoes from - .] cloaks were worn longer to the knee, retaining the same shapes and braid decoration as in the elizabethan period, and hanging sleeves were still worn on them, as well as on some of the jerkins. shoes became fuller and rounder at the toes, mostly with thick welted soles and short heels, or none. they were fastened with a large rosette of gold lace or ribbon on the front, and the latchets were set back to show an open side. the top-boots were close fitting and took squarer toes; the spur flap being rather small. beautifully embroidered clocks are seen on the tights and stockings of this period. seventeenth century. charles i. female. the hair was now allowed to fall in ringlets round the back and sides, with a few flat curls on the brow, and a bow and pearls were caught in at the sides. short feathers may also be noted in use. a plait was often coiled at the back after . [illustration: plate xv.-- (_a_) white cloth coat. - . (_b_) silk dress. - . (_c_) embroidered velvet coat. - .] [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. . collar and bodice types. period charles i.] [illustration: fig. . collar and bodice types. period charles i to .] in the early part of this reign the ladies were wearing the long corset-bodice, with a richly decorated stomacher which curved outwards to set on the very full skirts; this often finished with a curved or foliated shape at the point. square starched collars, rounded at the back, sometimes set up at the back of the neck or flat on the shoulder, and ruffs were still seen round the neck with collars as well, but they were seldom met with after . a plainer, deep collar, flat, round, or =v=-shaped at the back, coming well over the shoulders, was caught together by a bow or ornament in front. about shorter waisted bodices came in, with full, loose sleeves set in epaulets: the neck shape was rounded or square. the bodices were often slashed, and the full sleeves, cut into bands, were sometimes gathered by cross bands from one to three times. full plain sleeves, opened in the front seam, were also clasped at the elbow in a like manner. outer short sleeves became a feature, opening in the front, showing the full under one or a tight one; the waist became very short and its tabs larger. a waistband fastened in the stomacher with a bow either side and bows with long gold tags decorated the waist as in the male jerkin. the skirt decorated by a band of ornament down the front was often tied upon the corset-bodice, the front point being left outside. shoes of the same shape as the male illustrations, with very square toes, were frequent, but an oval toe, rather pointed, is seen in many pictures, with the large lace rosettes in front. muffs are first noticed in these days, though they were seen much earlier on the continent. [illustration: fig. .--period - .] seventeenth century. charles i. male. the hair was worn loose to the shoulders, and a small plait was sometimes arranged on the left side, brought to the front of shoulder. the beard was trimmed to a pointed shape, and smarter curled moustaches were fashionable. hats were still high in the crown, but rather lower than with james i; the large brims were turned about in various curves, and feathers were worn falling over the brims to the side or back. the jerkin was high in the collar, supporting a large, square, turn-down collar edged with pointed lace to the shoulders, or a small, plain, turn-over collar; ruffs are very rarely seen after . [illustration: fig. .--charles i.] [illustration: fig. .--period - .] [illustration: fig. .--period - .] a rather short waist grew shorter during this reign, with much larger tabs, or large flaps laced to the body, forming a series of bows with long gilt tags round the waist. the body is usually decorated with long slashes from the shoulders to the breast, or the full length, and a long slashed opening is often seen in the back (presumably to give more play to the sword-thrust). the sleeve is also treated in the same way to the elbow or waist. all sleeves start from a stiff epaulet. breeches are both very full and fairly tight, the latter edged with a purfling of silk or gold lace as well as the sides, the former shape tied either above or below the knee with a large silk bow with falling ends. they were held up by a number of hooks, fastening to a small flap with eyelets, round the inside of the doublet (see pattern , p. ), and were buttoned down the front, the buttons being half hidden in a pleat. the pockets were placed vertically in the front of the thigh, and were frequently of a decorative character. a short or long circular cloak was worn, and a coat-cloak with opened sleeves is an interesting garment. these coverings were hung in various ways from the shoulders by methods of tying the cords across the body. [illustration: fig. .--period - .] [illustration: fig. .--shoe shapes. charles i to . nos. , , , , , , , , . charles i. nos. , , , , , , , , , . charles ii. nos. , , , , , , , , . james ii and william and mary.] [illustration: plate xvi.-- (_a_) silk brocade dress. - . (_b_) silk brocade sack-back dress. - . _pattern, see p. ._ (_c_) dress of striped material. - . _pattern, see p. ._] [illustration: fig. .--boot shapes. charles i to . nos. , , , , , , , , . charles i. nos. , , , , , . charles ii. nos. , , . james ii and william and mary.] shoes became very square at the toes, or blocked as in fig. , no. . the fronts were set with large rosettes of silk and silver or gold lace, the heels varied much in height, that mostly favoured being a large, low heel. a quaint fashion of shoe combined with a clog sole was an interesting shape (see illustration of clogs, p. ). fairly tight top-boots, coming well above the knee, were often turned down. other boots with large bell-tops, turned over or pushed down, were covered or filled with a lace or bell-shaped stocking-top. a sash was worn round the waist or across the body over the left shoulder (the length and width of these is given in the description of patterns, p. ). a broad belt, or sword-hanger, came across the right shoulder. gloves were beautifully embroidered in gold, pearls, or coloured silks, the gauntlets being from five to eight inches deep. seventeenth century. the commonwealth. male and female. the same shapes apply to costume during the commonwealth, though a sterner effect was given by the choice of plain decoration and less colour. a small or a large plain collar, and the disappearance of slashings on the coat, and a longer skirt became noticeable. a very high tapered hat, with stiff circular brim, was worn by the puritans, and little, close, black hoods were much favoured. a general reaction from gay extravagance set in. seventeenth century. charles ii. female. the hair was set out from the head on combs with falling ringlets, and several small flat ringlets were placed on the forehead. the back of the hair was plaited into a knot, and pearl strings were interlaced, or ribbon loops caught in at either side. toward the hair was worn tightly curled and fulled out into a round shape with a curl or two falling on the front of the shoulders; small feathers or long feathers were also worn. hats were of a similar shape to those of the last reign, with a stiffer and narrower curved brim; but the chief head-dress was a large hood faced with another material, which latter was tied under the chin; these mostly formed part of a cape also. [illustration: fig. .--period - .] [illustration: plate xvii.-- (_a_) silk suit. - . (_b_) quilted dress. - . (_c_) silk-embroidered suit. - .] [illustration: fig. . , , , .--back and front of two corset bodices. period charles ii. , .--two corsets. period charles ii. , .--two bodice types. period charles i.] the bodice again became much longer and of a pointed shape, but many corset bodices took a round point, and a round neck coming well off the shoulders became general, usually decorated with a plain wide band of lace. ruffs and collars were no longer seen amongst the upper classes. very full sleeves and large opened sleeves were tied or clasped over full lawn ones, and at times separated from the shoulders, being caught effectively with jewels. groups of ribbons were placed at the breast or point of the bodice, and the ends of sleeves or shoulders, besides at the fronts of the outer skirt when divided, also in the gathering of the lawn sleeves. stomachers were not much worn, but a drape of soft silk was caught here and there round the neck of bodice, and large draperies were clasped to the shoulders. loose robes and robes shaped to the figure, opening down the front from the neck even to the waist, with a clasp or several holding them together; these were worn over a quilted linen corset laced in front as in the illustration, but the bodice was often formed on a corset. long gloves and mittens were in use, and small muffs with ribbon loops on the front were carried. high-heeled shoes with very long square toes were affected in imitation of the male shoe, but most ladies now began to wear a very pointed shoe. [illustration: fig. .--sleeve treatments. period charles ii.] seventeenth century. charles ii. male. long hair or wigs of long curls falling on the shoulders, a very narrow moustache and point of beard on the chin came with this reign. lace collars of a smaller square or rounded shape were in use, but a fall of lace pleated in the centre soon took its place. high-crowned hats with a band and bow in front and a flat, waved, or curved brim, with feathers on either side or all round, were the fashion, the crowns becoming shorter during the reign; the fronts and sometimes the sides of the brim are seen turned up, and so begins to form the three-cornered hat, which remained so long a feature in history. [illustration: fig. .--period charles ii.] we find with extravagant shapes a happy return of gay colours. the high-waisted jerkins of the charles i period were now seen without the skirt (as very short jackets), leaving the lawn shirt to show between this and the breeches, besides which the jackets were nearly always left unbuttoned several inches up, some being cut away in a rounded shape and also having short sleeves. the lower arm was covered with a full lawn sleeve caught at two or even three distances with a loop of ribbons or bows, and finishing with a wide lace frill; a bunch of ribbon loops was also often seen on the right shoulder. a long circular cloak, with turned-back fronts forming a collar in many, still retained the hanging sleeve, and was mostly decorated with bands of heavy braid. a long square coat also came in about , buttoned right down the front, with pockets set very low in the skirt, and large narrow cuffs opened at the back as in plate viii (see p. ). very full breeches were worn to just about the knee or shorter, with a fringe of ribbon loops, and a row or several rows of the same were arranged at the waist. a short petticoat just showed the under breeches, many of which were turned into a doublet shape by an additional piece looped up loosely from the knee with a silk filling; the ribbon loops at the waist were repeated up the sides of the petticoat. silk garters were worn with bows on both sides of the leg, or a deep lace fall came from the end of the breeches to the middle of the calf; a lace setting also filled the wide top of the boots, which was worn very low, even to the ankles. these short bell-topped boots were favoured, with high heels and very square toes. shoes were long and square (or duck-billed) at the toes; and had a high narrow front to the instep, and latchets fastened with a stiffened butterfly bow, besides, at times, a rosette lower down on the front: red heels were in evidence. the sword-band was very wide, and many were decorated with gold embroidery. [illustration: fig. .--costume types. period charles ii.] seventeenth century. james ii. female. the hair was still worn full at the sides over a comb, as in the former reign, with curls dropping to the shoulders, but they now began to discard the set-out comb and the little flat curls on the forehead, the hair being of a round shape or parted from the centre and mounted higher and narrower on the head, in the latter part of this reign. the same large hoods and drapes continued in use, and a high goffered head-dress with set-out front began to appear; the same shaped bodice with round low neck showing the shoulders, often set with a stomacher front or jewelled in that form, and smaller decorations of ribbon loops were still favoured. a smaller and shorter sleeve began to appear with a turned-up cuff, and the gathered-in lawn sleeves and ruffles caught here and there with pearls or clasps as before, besides the same light drapery clasped about the breast front. the overskirt was now looped back, the points being held together, giving a wide display of the underskirt, which was heavily banded or had a jewel setting down the front. other train skirts, also divided in front, were bordered with drawn silk caught at intervals into long puffs. very small muffs were the fashion. shoes increased their pointed shape and rather large heels are to be noted, but some shoes assumed a very narrow square toe; they were either tied from small latchets with a bow, or with buckled latchets. longer gloves were worn, and large full cloaks with hoods or large drapery wraps when required for outdoor wear. [illustration: fig. .--costume notes. period - .] seventeenth century. james ii. male. the same long wig was worn as in the last reign, but the curls were more of a set ringlet type, and embroidered caps were worn when these were taken off. the face was now clean shaven until the th century. hats also of the older character were retained, but the turned-up three-cornered shape, filled with short feathers, became more settled in fashion, and they were heavily banded with gold braid or lace on the edge. [illustration: fig. .--period - .] a smart bow was worn crosswise over the folded lace fall at the neck. the coat was a very long square shape to the knees, the stiff skirt often set out over rather full breeches, which were sometimes "shorts," and just above the knee, the stocking being often brought up above the knee, with a garter just below. the sleeves were short, above or below the elbow, with a turned-up cuff, leaving the full-gathered lawn sleeve with a lace ruffle to show at the wrist. a sash encircled the waist, and often shut in the sword-belt, which hung from the right shoulder. the coat had buttons from the neck to the bottom of the skirt, though the lower buttons were seldom fastened; the sides of the skirt were opened up about inches, and also the back seam to the same height; most seams were heavily decorated with gold, silver braid, or lace, and the pockets were placed rather low down towards the front of the skirt, and were sometimes set vertically. [illustration: plate xviii.-- (_a_) brocade bodice. - . (_b_) flowered silk dress. - . (_c_) silk brocade bodice. - .] [illustration: fig. .--period - .] long round capes were still worn, without sleeves, and a collar turned down about inches. shoes of a similar shape to those of the later charles ii type were in use, but the heels became larger and the toes not so long; the top of the front was sometimes shaped and turned down. heavy boots to the knee, with large curved tops, were also in favour, as in the illustration (fig. ). seventeenth century. william and mary. female. the hair was now mounted high on top and the front parted with two curls, the rest of the hair being bound on top, or a curl was arranged on either shoulder. a goffered frill head-dress, set on a cap, rose very high, and a long fall of lace, or lappets, came down on either side from the cap, or was gathered in like a small hood at the back. bare shoulders now began to disappear, the bodice shape coming over the shoulder to a =v= shape enclosing a stomacher, which was sometimes tabbed or shaped at the point. many dresses were made in one length, caught together at the waist with a band; the fronts of these skirts were looped back high up, creating a pannier-like fullness at the hips, and narrow hoops came in to set out the skirts, many of which were heavily embroidered with gold. the watteau-back dress started in this reign; a very early specimen, at the victoria and albert museum, is most probably of this time (fig. , a). the sleeves worn to the elbow increased in width from the shoulder, and were set with large narrow cuffs gathered with a jewel or bow on the front of the arm. hoods and cloaks of the same character as described for the last reign continued, and light sticks were carried by the ladies. very pointed shoes were worn, with large high heels, the top of the front flap in some being shaped into points. black masks were frequently used, some having long lace falls. rather small muffs were still the fashion, and beautifully decorated short aprons became a feature with the dress. [illustration: fig. .-- - .] seventeenth century. william and mary. male. wigs of the same long character continued, and were parted in the centre with a raised effect, and variously shaped caps, with turned-up fold or brim, were worn when the wig was taken off. the beaver or felt hat, turned up three-cornerwise, was now in general use. it is often seen with the brims loose, or sometimes down, especially amongst the lower classes. both small shapes and large were worn. [illustration: plate xix.-- (_a_) silk brocade dress. - . (_b_) embroidered silk jacket. - . _pattern, see p. ._ (_c_) brocade jacket. - . _cap pattern, see p. ._ _coat pattern, see p. ._] [illustration: fig. .--period - .] black ties across formal lace cravats, and long lawn cravats, edged with lace, one end of which was sometimes caught up loosely through the large buttonhole of the coat were worn. waistcoats were left open well down to the waist; some of these were nearly of the same length as the coat, the skirt being often edged with deep gold fringe. the coats were of much the same character as in the time of james ii, with buttons all down the front, but now it was the mode to button coats just at the waist, allowing the waistcoat to be shown. the sleeves were generally longer, to the middle of the forearm, and the turned-back cuffs became very large and deep, often towards the end of the reign taking a curved shape. the seams, fronts, and pockets were frequently braided as before. a long square waistcoat of rich brocade or embroidered material, about four inches shorter than the coat, was worn; some of these had tight sleeves, which came to the wrist beneath the outer coat-sleeve; otherwise a gathered lawn sleeve with ruffle was worn. shoes and boots were practically the same as in the previous reign, with larger high heels and a high square front, with latchets buckled or stiffly tied, and very square toes. top-boots of the same heavy character continued as in plate ii (see p. ). stockings continued to be worn frequently above the knee outside the breeches, with a garter beneath, and beautifully embroidered clocks to the calf. muffs were carried by many men, and the gauntlets of gloves had a very angular shape. patches and make-up were used by the dandies, and the sword was now carried through the side pleats on a waist-belt sometimes worn outside the waistcoat. chapter vii the character of decoration and trimmings of the eighteenth century. in the early part to the middle of this century the trimmings were chiefly of gold or silver lace, real lace, and purfled silk, mostly of the same material as the dress: a bow was often worn on the breast, and also in the front of the sleeve cuff. purfled or ruched trimming generally ran down the front of the dress from the neck to the hem of the skirt in the second georgian dress, and gathered borders or decorations of curved forms were in use. the skirts usually had only one flounce till the reign of george iii, when the trimmings became more elaborate, and gauze and imitation flowers were festooned upon the skirts, with ribbons and tassels and padded designs standing out in strong relief; some charming gimp trimmings are also seen. the lace ruffles of a fan shape which finished the earlier sleeves till about were sometimes of lace, interwoven with gold, silver, and coloured silk needlework, and this was no doubt the forerunner of the use of the more solid material itself. the setting of the sleeve finish is interesting to note all through this period, for it was beautifully treated in balancing the effect of the dress. the square cuff with the deep lace fall was big in style, and the later closely-fitted elbow piece, richly gathered, was happily conceived, but no finer setting could have been applied to the sack-back dress than the large fan or double fan with its lace fall. the edges of the early fan-finished sleeves were of curved and scalloped forms, the latter shaping often being seen in the later sleeves. with george iii we notice designs in straw work, decorations of imitation flowers in ribbon-work and various materials, and much taste in the choice of colour schemes, while the tassels of this period were delightful creations. the designs of stuffs at the early part of the century were generally of fine strong colour blends, but in the middle period there was much questionable taste displayed in the heavy massing of patterns, but this soon improved with the striped character crossed by running flowers which was quite ideal in type for costume keeping, grace, and lightness, with a beautiful interchange of colour. the quilted silk and satin petticoats are a special feature to note in these times; many simple and effective designs were in use, and they added much glitter to the scheme. aprons were also beautiful examples of needlework, and were worn with the best of dresses to the middle of the century; the earlier ones generally had a scalloped edging, and many had pockets; gold lace edging or fringe was often used in the time of george ii, and they were all finely decorated with needlework in gold, silver, or coloured silks. the white aprons were also of consummate needlecraft, and hanging pockets worn at the sides were also a decorated feature, but these only showed when the dress was worn tucked up. the later style of dress became much simpler, consisting chiefly of gathered flounce settings, fichus, and large mob caps; these were often daintily embroidered with tambour work and large bow and sash settings, making delightful costumes. bags, muffs, gloves, and shoes were all chosen for the display of needlecraft, while artists and jewellers used all their skill on the fans, patch-boxes, and étuis, and even the dress materials were often painted by hand, while many painted chinese silks were also utilised. eighteenth century. anne. female. the hair was dressed in a simple manner, with two curls parted from the centre of the forehead, and curved inwards on the brow. a loose ringlet or two were brought on to the left shoulder, the rest being gathered into a back-knot. feathers or flowers were arranged on top, generally with a pair of lace lappets falling to the back; these also adorned the cap, which still bore the front goffered frills set out as in the last reign, but these were diminished in size and were mostly of one row. we note probably the last stage of this style appearing in a print of hogarth's, dated . [illustration: fig. .--bodice types. period - .] [illustration: fig. .--costume type. - .] hoods and capes or cloaks, and long black fichus or wraps, were the chief coverings, as the head-dress did not allow of hats being worn, but with the small frilled caps a little straw hat, or a low-crowned felt with a largish brim, are seen, and a small lace frill round the neck began to appear. bodices with a low curved neck often had a short skirt or shaped pieces, as well as a shaped short sleeve over a gathered lawn one, while many wore long sleeves to the wrist, and a waistbelt is sometimes noted. there was also the sleeve spreading in width to the elbow, with a turned-up square cuff. the front of the bodice may be remarked with bands fastening across, and this became a feature in many dresses later in this century, otherwise it set closely over the shoulders to a =v= shape at the waist, and was filled with a stomacher of fine needlework, bows, or the ends of the lawn fichu laced or caught in by a big bow. a full, loose gown, with the fullness pleated to back and front, came in, the front being held by a bow and the back allowed to fall loose or crossed with a large bow at the back of waist, as in the museum specimen, fig. . this became the more elaborate sack-back dress. [illustration: fig. .--period - .] the skirts began to be set out in a bell form, and trains were in much favour; the overskirts were parted in front, and many looped up to the back in a similar manner to the last reign. small aprons of fine embroidery were worn with the best of dresses, and embroidered pockets are seen when the skirts were thrown back. petticoats of fine quilting became much appreciated, and tall sticks were carried by ladies. pointed shoes with high heels and latchets tied or buckled, the top of the fronts being mostly cut into four points, or they had a square finish. eighteenth century. anne. male. the wigs of the full ringlet style were still the fashion, but a simpler character is noticeable, the hair being combed back off the forehead and allowed to fall in looser waves. but many began to set a mode of smaller "coiffure," with their own hair caught in curls by a bow at the back, and curls over each ear. powder came into use with the smart set, and a big bow and bag to finish the back of wig appeared, giving a smarter appearance to the white hair. [illustration: plate xx.-- (_a_) gold-embroidered muslin dress. - . (_b_) nine aprons. between and . (_c_) dress of spotted stockinette. - .] [illustration: fig. .--bodice types. - .] the hat, sometimes of white felt, was the same three-cornered type, edged with feathers and banded with broad gold braids or silver lace. the neckwear was a bind of lawn, with a long fall finished with lace. the coat remained long to the knees, but took a greater fullness in the side pleats of the skirt. large buttons and buttonholes, inches long, are seen, with the same on the cuff, which was worn very large, often inches broad, and mostly of a curved outline, and of another coloured brocade; a tight undersleeve is also seen with these. the coat was sometimes heavily decorated with needlework or braids of gold down the front, pockets, seams, and cuffs. the pocket was wide and set higher in the skirt, and the back opening of coat was decorated by several horizontal braids to the two side pleats. a long, full-skirted waistcoat, of rich materials or needlework, was at times braided and fringed at the skirt with gold, the pockets covered with a large flap, and five buttons fastened it or were placed as decorations just below it. the front buttons were often reduced to four at the waist, as it was still fashionable to show the lawn shirt. breeches were of the same cut as in the former reign, with five or six side buttons at the knee, and stockings with embroidered clocks were worn rolled over outside the breeches as before. shoes were square at the toes and not quite so long, while the heels were still rather heavy, and red was the mode. they had a high square top at the front instep, and buckles fastened the latchets. muffs were often carried by the dandies, and walking-sticks, with tassel and loop, were slung on the arm; besides a sword, which, passing through the side pleats and out at the back, helped to set out the coat, which was often stiffened in the skirts. gloves, with short gauntlets very angular or curved in shape, were trimmed with gold fringe; the backs were also richly embroidered with gold or silver. eighteenth century. george i. female. [illustration: fig. .-- - .] [illustration: plate xxi.-- boots and shoes. from - . . - . . " . - . . - . . " . - . . " . - . . " a. " . - . . " . " . " . " . " . " . - . . " . " . " . " . " ] [illustration: fig. .--period - .] [illustration: fig. .--modes, - .] [illustration: fig. .--various styles in cut back of bodice.] the hair was very simply gathered from the forehead and taken up to a knot of curls at the back. occasionally a group of curls was allowed to fall behind, or a curl was arranged to fall on one shoulder, and waved curls of the queen anne type were still seen on many people. caps, with long dropping points in front, sometimes tied under the chin or with long lappets at the back, were the chief favourites, also a small frilled cap. shallow-crowned straw hats with various widths of brim; hoods and capes, both short and long, are seen, besides light silks draped from the hair to the waist, feathers, flowers, and ribbons being worn in the head-dress. richly embroidered aprons were worn with the finest dresses. the sack-back dress was very full, and started right across the shoulders in two double box-pleats, which were kept trim by being sewn flat for two to four inches down. sleeves to the elbow were rather full, and gathered at the shoulders, with a square cuff often decorated with a bow in front, and a fan of lace, sometimes in several rows, fell from beneath. sleeves finishing in a shaped edge are occasionally seen. the skirts were made for the very round hoop setting, and were gathered in flat pleats on either hip. a wide pleat or two came from the shoulders down the front sometimes as a continuation of the sack-back. these pleats, meeting at the waist, formed a =v= shape, which was filled by an embroidered stomacher, or made of the same material, crossed by bands, bows, or rows of lace. the flat front pleat was occasionally embroidered, and gradually widened to the bottom of the skirt. very pointed toes to the shoes, and high heels, with tied or buckled latchets, are seen, the tops of the front often being shaped into four points. eighteenth century. george i. male. long, full wigs are still seen amongst older men, but several new shapes appear as illustrated (fig. ), and the black bow and bag became very large; a black ribbon attached to it, with a bow in front, came round the neck. we also see the ends of the wig made into a long, tight pigtail. hats were of the same three-cornered shape, rather fuller in size, and the feathered edging was still favoured. a hat of the type of fig. was also worn; and the loose cap with a tassel was put on when the wig was removed (see fig. ). [illustration: fig. .--wig types, st half th century.] [illustration: fig. .--list of dated shoes and boots. no. . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . - . . sole of shoe no. . . - . . - .] the neck had the same lawn bind with a long lace ruffle, and the coat the same full cut as in the last reign, and the large rounded cuff was still in favour, but many varieties of size were now worn. a vertical pocket is seen occasionally on cloth coats, also a cape and turned-down collar are noted, while several appear with a very small upright collar. buttons were still worn on some coats, right down the front; but on many coats the buttons stopped level with the pocket. a short-skirted coat came in amongst the dandies towards the end of the reign, and was stiffened out on the skirts; these mostly had a tighter sleeve and cuff. the same decorations continued in use. waistcoats were much the same, and were cut to the length of the coats, or about four inches shorter; they were buttoned higher, the lace often falling outside. breeches were the same in cut, fastened with six buttons and a buckle at the side of the knee. the stockings, usually decorated with clocks, were still worn rolled outside the knee amongst smart people. the stiff high boots or gaiters generally had a full curved piece at the top, and short gaiters to the calf are also to be noticed. the shoes were square-toed or of a roundish form, with a short or rather high square front, and heels of various heights. patches and make-up were used by the fops, and swords and sticks carried, the latter being very high, to inches. eighteenth century. george ii. female. the hair was treated in much the same manner as with george i up to the end of this reign--gathered back from the forehead to a bunch of curls at the back. the small hats and caps, often worn together, continued of the same character; the dresses also remained similar in cut. the sack-back dress was supreme in the fifties, when it was set with panniers, together with the hoops, but the latter were not so much worn towards the end of this reign, except for the "grand dress." quilted petticoats were much worn, but flounces are not a feature on the skirts till the latter part of this period. the simpler dress was of various lengths, and was at times worn quite short up to . the corset bodice was still in use, with lawn sleeves: square cuffs and lace ruffles held the lead throughout this time, but the fan-shaped sleeve finish to the elbow, in the same material as the dress, began to appear about , generally with a waved or scalloped edge. pointed toes and high-heeled shoes continued, with either tied or buckled latchets, and long gloves and mittens were in use. [illustration: fig. .--three hoops and four pannier forms. types - . - . - . . - . - . - .] [illustration: fig. . _quilted designs on petticoats, th century._] eighteenth century. george ii. male. wigs with double points at the back, short curled or of long pigtailed shapes, some with side curls, others curled all round the front, were worn. large bows and bags, or no bows, finished the back hair, and the bow to the front of the neck was in use from the early part of this reign. long coats, as in the last reign, and short coats with stiffened skirts were used; many with braided seams and fronts, also a braided opening at the back. large round cuffs and big square ones, caped coats, and coats with turn-down collars were all in the mode, and the "maccaroni" fashions started about , with absurdities in small hats, clubbed wigs, and very short coats. high sticks and crook sticks, canes and swords continued in use. [illustration: plate xxii.-- (_a_) linen dress. - . _pattern of bodice, see p. ._ (_b_) silk bodice. - . (_c_) silk bodice. - .] [illustration: fig. .--wig types, second half th century. - . - .] the pocket flaps were of a curved form, with a rounded centre still, and many of the shoes had a high square front, high heels, and square toes: according to the caricature prints of boitard, the fashionable hats were smaller in , and much larger ten years later; very full skirts at the former date, and smaller and less stiffened at the latter. stockings were often still worn outside the knee. shoes reached an extreme high square front at the latter date, and gloves with curved or square cuffs are to be noted. [illustration: fig. .--first half eighteenth century.] eighteenth century. george iii to . female. this long reign, like that of queen victoria, embraces several changes of style. up till about white powder was still used for the hair, reaching its fullest extravagance in the middle of the seventies, set with pearls, bandeaus, caps, lace, flowers and feathers, and about the top was widened considerably. the front hair, gathered from the forehead, was pressed in a forward curve over a high pad, with one to three curls at the sides and one at the shoulders, the back hair being arranged in a loose loop, curled on the top and set with a large bow at the back; a small round hat with very small low crown (usually decorated with flowers and silks gathered into puffs, or ribbons and small feathers) was tilted right on the front. about large mob caps with a big bow on the front came in, and were generally worn together with the tall-crowned hat or the large-brimmed hat in favour at this time. a cape with smallish hood worn in the earlier reigns was supplanted about by the calash, a huge hood set out with whalebone which came to cover the full head-dresses. the heavier caped or hooded cloak, sometimes with side opening for the arms, and usually trimmed with fur, still remained in use to . [illustration: fig. .--costume notes, - .] [illustration: plate xxiii.-- (_a_) muslin dress with tinsel design. - . (_b_) silk dress. period george iv. (_c_) satin and gauze dress. - .] [illustration: fig. .--head dress. period - .] [illustration: fig. .--hats and caps during period - .] [illustration: fig. .--hats during period - .] the bodice retained the same shape as in the former reign, rather longer in the points back and front, with a large fan finish to the sleeve, double or single; this became supplanted by a much-gathered elbow-piece, sometimes eight inches deep, gathered in four rows. small drawn gathers started round the waist of the skirt, for the side panniers and hoops were being less worn, except for the "smart gown," but bunching, reefing, and looping took their place in effect, and quilted petticoats remained while this character of dress lasted. the later sack-back dress was sewn tighter to the body, and usually started in a narrower set at the back, while the full pleat from the shoulder down the front went out, and the neck was more displayed by lower bodice fronts, which continued to be set with bows, jewels, lace, or embroidery. sack-back jackets were often worn in the seventies; when the sack began to disappear, it took the form of overlapped seams on the bodice. the decorated side pockets are noted in prints showing tuck-up dresses to . the jacket bodice of the same form described in the preceding reign was perhaps more in evidence till , not so long in the skirt as in the earlier reigns, but after this date it took a longer skirt, which was often pleated at the back, with a very low neck and short waist. [illustration: fig. .--period - .] about we find a change of style appearing in a shorter waist, with less pointed setting, having often a rounded point or square tabs, and even a shaped finish to the corset front, which was sometimes used like a waistcoat effect under the cut-away dresses seen after (see fig. , p. ). a general tendency to imitate male attire is apparent, and the front of the bodice was set with lapels and straps buttoned across (though i have noted this latter character in the early part of this century), and long coats with this character were much worn, with two or three capes. the sleeves are sometimes set over a tight undersleeve, in fact the longer sleeve to the wrist became fashionable. with this change a short gathered skirt is seen on some bodices, and the full gathered skirt was bunched out at the back on a bustle, of which i give an illustration (p. ), the low neck being filled with a large lawn fichu; a wide belt was generally worn, or a wide sash and bow at the back or side is seen with the lighter dresses, these being simple in style, just gathered at the waist, with short full sleeves set with a frill, and another frill was also arranged round the neck. [illustration: fig. .] about the mode again began to change to a classic style, still higher in the waist, with a short tight sleeve, at times puffed in the upper part, or an outer and under sleeve, as per illustration a, plate xxii (see p. ). the fronts of this type of bodice were mostly buttoned or pinned up to the shoulders over a tight underfront, the skirt opening about inches at the sides, thus saving a fastening at the back. i have illustrated some very interestingly cut jackets of this period from my collection, as a, plate xxiv (see p. ); the sleeves were very long and were ruckled on the arm, as likewise were the long gloves or mittens of this time. a long scarf or drape was carried with this style, and a round helmet-like hat in straw or a turban was adopted. high sticks were still carried by ladies till the nineties, and umbrellas or parasols; the former came into vogue about , the latter about six years later. muffs of beautifully embroidered silk and satin were set with purfled trimmings, gold and silver lace, or bows and ribbons; otherwise they were of furs or feathers. they remained rather small up to , when a very large shape set in, which continued till the end of the reign; the quantity of beautiful fans of this century must be so well known as to need no description. the highest artistry was concentrated on them. [illustration: fig. .--period - .] [illustration: fig. .--costume notes, - .] [illustration: fig. .--lounge caps worn during removal of wig.] shoes at the beginning of this reign were set on very high spindle heels; the toe-front became rounded, the instep-front a pointed shape, and wide latchets were buckled till about , but fashion discarded them earlier; for about the shoes became very small at the heel, and pointed again at the toe. when the latchets went out, the pointed instep remained for a time, but a low round front appeared, and the heel practically vanished just before . these later shoes were decorated on the front by needlework or incised leather openwork underlaid with another colour. the soles at this time were extremely quaint in shape, and the shoes were tied sandal fashion up the ankle. [illustration: plate xxiv.-- (_a_) outdoor silk jacket. - . (_b_) embroidered muslin bodice. - . (_c_) embroidered muslin bodice. - . (_d_) satin and gauze bodice. - .] eighteenth century. george iii to . male. the wigs, which were rather high in the front of the crown in the earlier part, began to cast off the most eccentric forms, and became just curled, rather full at the sides, and tied with a bow at the back: dull pink powder became a favoured hue from about ; most people began to return to their own hair, and one might see many without long hair in the nineties. the last type of dressing the hair in imitation of the wig form was a long, tightly braided pigtail at the back, with one or even two side curls over the ear, and side whiskers were allowed to fill up to them; thus when the short hair set the fashion, side whiskers came in. hats were still worn of the three-cornered shape, but the favourites became a front cockade hat and a hat with a rounded crown and rather wide brim, sometimes turned up on one side; a short type of top-hat was also often seen, and later became the fashion. the same lawn and lace cravat developed into more of a plain white stock, with a frilled shirt-front. the coat was worn much tighter in the arms and was smartly cut, with the fronts running away into a narrow tailed skirt. the pockets often began to take a plain square form, with or without buttons; the buttons on the front of the coat stopped at the waist--many cuffs are seen without them; and the side pleats, set more to the back, were pressed and narrower. both the plain and turn-over collars were set up high in the neck, large cut-steel buttons were introduced in the early seventies, and many fancy china buttons, besides the gilt silver and paste ones were in use. a new type of coat made its appearance with a high turn-over collar and large lapels, and a sudden cut-in of the coat-front high in the waist, giving a very long-tailed effect to the skirt. a cuff shape with these was mostly made in one with the sleeve and buttoned at the side towards the back, and when the cuff was additional, it seldom had buttons, as formerly. a greatcoat with one, two, or three capes was a picturesque garment, and a leather-covered bottle was often carried when riding a distance, of which i have an example in my collection. [illustration: fig. .] waistcoats, which had become much shorter, were now giving place to a type with a straight-across front and turned-back lapels at the neck; these large lapels were mostly worn outside over the coat lapel. the waistcoats were often double-breasted with an embroidered design down the front between the double row of buttons, and the straight pockets of these had no flaps; they shortened at the waist in character with the lapelled coat, but were worn lower than the cut-in shape of the coat, showing about inches when the coat was fastened. breeches became very tight, and trousers begin to appear after . striped stockings and suits were much in favour. top-boots with rather long brown tops were worn, or high boots with a curved top, with a gold tassel set in front, were seen. the shoes with latchets and buckles had a low front on the instep, and from about took a rather pointed oval toe shape; the heels were mostly worn shorter. swords were not so much in use except on great occasions, but sword-sticks were carried, and heavy club-sticks were fashionable before . patches were little used after the seventies, but the snuff-box was still indispensable. the double long purse with central rings and tassels at the ends was carried, of knitted silk or of leather, the former with steel beads and coloured silks worked together after : small bag purses were also in use, usually set in gilt mounts and made in the same methods with a tassel below. [illustration: plate xxv.-- (_a_) silk dress. - . (_b_) cotton dress. - . (_c_) embroidered muslin dress. - (_pattern, see p._ ). (_d_) silk gauze dress. - .] [illustration: fig. .] chapter viii character of trimmings of the nineteenth century. during the later part of the th century, a great deal of tinsel drawn work was done on fine muslin, and became beautifully treated in delicate design on the hem and down the front of many of the high-waisted dresses as in fig. a, plate xxiii (see p. ). later on towards the twenties we see a great deal of effective coarse work in heavy gold tinsel, and at the same time to the forties a number of dresses were ably enriched with fine gold thread. the white embroidery in the earlier trimmings of this period, of which i give examples in plate xxiv (see p. ), was remarkable for its wealth of fancy; the chief beauty of these dresses was the delightful treatment of gathered effects, and with the reign of george iv we note the gradual return of the longer pointed bodice, with the growth of very full sleeves, also the increase in the size and fuller set-out of the skirts over the stiff flounced drill petticoats. the =v=-shaped bertha setting to neck and shoulders began to establish itself, and became a great feature through the thirties and forties; the first signs of it appear about . varieties of materials were used to great advantage in designing, and drawn tulle trimmings were happily introduced to soften hard shapes and colours. the shoulder fullness also began to be neatly drawn in and held by straps, which gave a charming character to many bodices. from choice work in piped shapes, often of flower forms decorated with pearls or beads, was set on fine net, as seen in plates xxiii and xxix (see pp. , ). the attraction to the thirties was the happy effects gained by the bow and flower looping on the flounces, and these ripened in fancy and variety through the forties. braiding was adopted in the thirties with a rather charming treatment of tassels down the front of the dress; the polonaises of this time were also effective and simple, caught here and there with posies of flowers, and we find this fashion again revived in the sixties. with the reign of george iv we notice an increasing choice of strong coloured effects, which culminated in the mid-victorian era in raw colour and violent shot silks, velvets, and heavy fringes, but one may see that many of these dresses of bright pure tone looked exceedingly refined and were quite stately. a remarkable dress is fig. a, plate xxxii (see p. ), which is of very strong bright blue; its only enrichment being a curved line of folded silk. all these dresses from were delightfully embellished with embroidered fichus, light scarves of frail gauze, crêpe, or norwich silk, and in the victorian times capes and =v=-shaped shawls; fascinating lace ruffles and tuck-in fronts to the bodice necks, of frills and bands of embroidery, broke the severity or bareness of many dresses. an endless variety of fascinating caps and lace head-lappets was pinned or caught into the hair at the wearer's fancy; besides the bows, flowers, and jewels (especially pearls) which have always played an important part in the coiffure from early times, the chatelaines and bags, fobs, fans, and lace or silk handkerchiefs all give the artist a note of extra colour when desired. the cruel period of taste really came with the seventies, though one can trace many quaint and interesting cuts in the bodices and skirts of this time; but the "grand dress" of complicated drapings, heavily fringed or braided, was a "set piece" which, let us hope, will never appear again. the long stocking-purse which began to appear in the late th century was up to sometimes carried tucked through the belt; it was set with a pair of metal rings and tassels of steel or gilt beads. small and large circular and bag-shaped purses were also in use; all these were made in coloured silk threads enriched with steel, gilt, or coloured beads, the latter shapes being set in chased metal mounts, the circular ones generally having a fringe and the bag shape a small tassel or heavy drop. these shapes can also be seen in coloured leathers with a leather tassel, besides the plain money-bag with a draw-string. nineteenth century. george iii. female. the hair up to was gathered into a knot of curls at the back of the head, rather high up, with a small curl at the sides in front of the ear. later the knot was set more on the top, and the side curls were made more of a feature, several being arranged at the sides. numerous varieties of large and small brimmed hats, bonnets, and turbans are seen, and several masculine top-hats and cockade hats may be noted late in this reign. the usual feather decorations and large ribbons or flowers were in use, and a handkerchief was sometimes bound over the top of the straw hat and tied under the chin. [illustration: fig. .--costume notes, - .] [illustration: fig. .--costume notes, - .] the classic high-waisted dress continued till , and was often beautifully decorated with white embroidery and gold or tinsel, as in a, plates xx and xxiii (see pp. , ), and the frontispiece is a lovely white example. there were several interesting drapings, one being a cord hanging from the back of the shoulder to loop up the train of the dress, as in a, plate xxii (see p. ). the simple tunic shapes are better described by the illustrations: more originality was essayed in design after the last-mentioned date. a high vandyked lace collar and fan setting to the shoulders appeared, and many interesting dresses of a plain cut, mostly in velvet and silks, were worn about - . a gathered sleeve drawn tight at intervals was often seen up to , when embroidered ruffles and frills decorated most of the necks and skirts, and a braided type of character, rather military in effect with beautifully piped edgings, came in from about . spencer bodices were an additional interest at this period, and a short puff sleeve was generally banded or caught with bows; these being often worn over a fairly loose long sleeve gathered by a wristband. dresses were worn shorter from about . charming lace and embroidered fichus crossed the shoulders, and long scarf-capes were thrown round the neck and were often tied round behind, as in the th century; long capes with points and tassels in front fell to the knees, and a simple pelisse with cape became a pleasing feature. bags were always carried, of which there is a variety of shapes in the plates; long gloves or mittens were generally worn. parasols of a flat shape, or others with round or pagoda shaped tops are seen, many being edged with a deep fringe. long purses were often tucked through the waistband. [illustration: fig. .] the pointed shoe, tied sandal fashion up the leg, and with no heel, remained through this reign, but a round-toed low shoe, tied on in the same manner, began to supersede it about . nineteenth century. george iii. male. wigs had practically gone out, except for a few of the latter type of the th century amongst elderly people. the hair was now worn short, and left rather full on the front, with short side-whiskers. plain black or white stocks tied with a front bow, and a starched or unstarched collar with a frilled or gathered shirt-front were in use. a tie-pin or stud was also seen in the centre of the stock or frilling. the same hats as in the latter part of the th century continued for a time, but the top-hat had established its favour, and assumed various shapes throughout this reign. [illustration: plate xxvi.-- (_a_) morning coat of chintz. - . _pattern, see p. ._ (_b_) cloth coat. - . _pattern, see p. ._ (_c_) cloth overcoat. - . _pattern similar to p. ._] the coats were set with very high turn-over collars and a wide-shaped lapel, and the lapel of the waistcoat was still brought outside. as these lapels on the coats became smaller and changed into a roll collar, they were cut into points at the breast, as seen in the illustrations. the front of the coat cut away in a short square, rather high in the waist, which thus formed a long-tailed skirt; the fronts were made double-breasted, and were often fastened high up the lapel. the hip-pleats had gone round more to the back into a closely pressed fold, about three inches from the back-opening. sleeves were gathered rather full in the shoulders, becoming very tight on the forearm, and were finished in a cuff, or buttoned cuff-shape. we also see that a short square coat without tails was worn over the longer one. overcoats (or long-skirted coats) with a cape or capes, up to four, were worn all through this reign, both double and single breasted, sometimes with turn-up cuffs; but this mode was not frequently used, as a sewn-on cuff or cuff made in the sleeve was now worn, and began to take a curved shape well over the hand, with three buttons to fasten it on the outer sides. short double-breasted waistcoats continued much the same, but a round-shaped lapel appeared on many. very tight-fitting breeches were worn of the same th-century cut, and trousers began to gain favour; a fob of seals, &c., was always worn, coming from under the waistcoat. soft high boots with turn-down tops, and boots with longish brown tops set low on the leg. the top-boot with the pointed or oval-shaped front and tassel still held sway, and an oval-toed low shoe with or without small latchets was in use. nineteenth century. george iv. female. the hair at this period was worn in plaits or curls gathered on top, and during the latter years was arranged into stiff loops set with a high comb; a group of curls was drawn to the sides of the face, the hair being mostly parted from the centre. plumes were much used for head-dresses, and caps with gathered puffs and pointed frills. a high-crowned straw poke bonnet, tilted upwards, was still in form; but the prevailing mode was a silk bonnet, with the brim curved in at the front, the sides being drawn together under the chin with a bow. the prevailing decoration was a group of feathers thrown forward or ribbon loops, and after this a large round hat, with a full gathered crown, arrived about , or straw shapes, such as fig. a, plate xxviii (see p. ). [illustration: fig. .] dresses gradually assumed a longer waist, and a short pointed bodice made its appearance here and there from about , when short stays began to return, and pointed belt corselets were frequent, though the waistband or sash was chiefly used. short puffed sleeves of charming character and workmanship were sometimes set in a gauze sleeve, as in fig. c, plate xxiii (see p. ). spencers and pelisses had long sleeves coming from these short ones; they were rather full, and were caught at the wrist with a band. the upper sleeve gradually disappeared as the full-topped sleeves began to develop in size, about ; this fullness was often broken up into gathered parts, a tight cuff-piece usually finished at the wrist. the high set-up collars and neck-frills gave way to the flat capes about , though the small ruffs were worn round the top of the high-necked capes to . the gathered shoulder began about , and soon became a marked feature; pointed or scalloped frills and trimmings came into favour from , fig. b, plate xxiii (see p. ), and about the sloped appearance in the bodice began to be noticed as the sleeves were set lower. the shoulders in ball dresses were shown, and a gathered bertha of silk or lace was arranged round the neck of bodice, fig. d, plate xxiv (see p. ), or this form was made in the pattern as in fig. c, plate xxii (see p. ). the =v=-shaped piece from the centre of waist or breast began to spread over the shoulders, where it was opened, as in fig. b, plate xxii (see p. ). this =v= shape was often open down to the waist, where it was filled in with a centre-piece of embroidery. skirts were gradually set out fuller, with stiff-flounced petticoats; they had various simple or richly decorated borders and fronts, or several small flounces, or one deep one often with the edges cut into divers shapes. [illustration: plate xxvii.--outdoor silk dress. - .] [illustration: fig. .] i have striven to give good examples of the marked styles in the various dated illustrations, as well as the court train to dress, fig. a, plate xxxiii (see p. ), which also comes into this time. shoes were rather round at the toes till near the end of the reign, when they took a square shape; a tiny rosette or bow was placed at the front of instep, and they were held by narrow ribbons, crossed and tied round the ankle. boots lacing at the inside, with seam down the front, often had a toe-cap as in fig. , plate xxi (see p. ); no heels were worn. light gauze scarves were usually carried, and very small fans besides the larger feather ones. bags or sachets of the forms illustrated were painted or embroidered in ribbonwork, chenille, tulle, and coloured silks. a few specimens of parasols are also given, and gloves and mittens were of the same character as in the latter part of the last reign. the patterns given of some of the dresses shown in the plates will be useful as to the measurements of the increase in skirt-width and sleeves; one may also note the very pointed set-out of the breast, sometimes made with two gores, which only occurs in this reign. muffs were usually of a large size, and a bow with long ends was often worn on the front. nineteenth century. george iv. - . male. the mode in beaver hats was most varied; high straight crowns with small brims, others tapering at the top with larger curled brims, or crowns enlarging at the top with almost straight small brims; a top-hat of straw is shown on page . a short-crowned hat was also worn. the hair was combed towards the front at either side, and the face shaven, with the exception of short side-whiskers. a very high stock of black satin or linen surrounded the throat, with or without the points of collar showing, and a frilled shirt, often stiffly goffered. coats were very tight-fitting and mostly double-breasted, with long swallow-tailed skirts, or long full skirts; the waist was rather short, and the effect of coat-front round-breasted with a high turned-over collar finished in large lapels, which were often treated with velvets. the favourite colours for overcoats were greys, buffs, greens, and blues, and the edges were neatly finished with fine cord. the sleeves, rather full in the shoulder, became tight on the lower arm, coming to a curved shape well over the hand, and buttoned up the side. the pockets were frequently set at an angle, as in illustration, and a short round cape, or two, was seen on many overcoats. a short type of coat is seen about , with a single roll collar. [illustration: fig. .--period - .] waistcoats mostly had a round-shaped lapel, and were often double-breasted and very shaped at the waist, which was set fairly high; a long opening allowed the frilled shirt-front full display. there were also waistcoats having no lapels, no pockets, or no cover-flap; the points of front were very small, being buttoned to the end, or, with the double-breasted shape, they were straight across. breeches were not so much worn as trousers of cloth, nankeen, drill, and fine white corduroy; these were usually fastened under the boots with a strap, others were looser and often worn short, well above the ankle. a very full type in the upper part peg-tops, was in fashion about - amongst the dandies, and for evening dress, very close-fitting breeches to the knee, or just above the ankle, the latter being opened and buttoned up to the calf. pince-nez were favoured, with a heavy black ribbon, generally worn tucked in the lapels of the waistcoat; and a fob of gold seals, &c., hung from the braces, below waistcoat pocket. [illustration: fig. .-- - .] shoes and short wellington boots were chiefly worn, the former being low in the heel and very short in the tongue, which was almost covered by small latchets, either buckled or tied, the shape of the toe being rather round. the hessian boots with curved front and tassel at the top were still worn. nineteenth century. william iv. female. the hair still retained the high loops on top and the bunch of curls at the sides, poised by a back comb and set with flowers or feathers; there was also a great variety of fancy capes with pointed frills, some with long tie ends, and these are seen with most dresses, and were worn in conjunction with the hats. the favourite hat was a big, flat, circular form, generally tilted at one side, and decorated with bows, flowers, and feathers; a flat tam-o'-shanter shape was often worn with the riding-dress, sometimes with a large peak-shape in front, and straps under the chin. the large poke-bonnet also kept the front as flat and round as possible, with a high crown tilted upward in order to set over the hair loops. [illustration: plate xxviii.-- (_a_) silk pelisse. - . (_b_) cotton dress. - . (_pattern, see p._ ). (_c_) silk spencer and cape. - (_pattern, see p._ ).] [illustration: fig. .-- - .] the bodice began with a very pointed front and very low neck off the shoulders, tuck-ins of fine embroidery, and capes or _fichus_ of the same, covered the shoulders, often three deep. the pointed bodice only lasted for a few years, when the waistband again became the favourite. the sleeves were very large at the shoulders, diminishing at the wrist, but soon took a big round form, sometimes tightly pleated into quarters before . we then get the huge sleeve gathered at the wrist, and often falling below it; this again tightened on the forearm, and we note a tendency to tighter sleeves coming in before , neatly gathered well down the shoulder. the evening-dress sleeve was a large puff, set out by stiffening to a flat wide effect. very wide epaulet collars were seen on most dresses, meeting in a =v= shape at the waist, with a filling of lace in the front, and many bodices were elaborately gathered, and some of the sleeves were also gathered into puffs all down the arm. [illustration: fig. .-- - .] the skirts were set out very full over stiff flounced petticoats, and were worn rather short; as a rule they were trimmed with one or two flounces, which were handsomely decorated, and a short polonaise is occasionally seen. there were many interesting trimmings of gauze, flowers, and bows; while silk-flowered gauze over dresses made some charming effects. heavy mantles and capes or pelisses began to be braided, and rather strong colours were in general taste. the hand-bags were of a curved form and generally bore heavy tassels. very small fans and round fans were attractive, and bouquet-holders of gilt, with pearl handles, became the thing to carry. shoes were of the low sandal type, fastened by crossed elastic, with very square toes, and a tiny rosette or bow on the front; boots to the ankle were now in fashion, mostly lacing at the inside, and having a long toe-cap, sometimes with a small rosette at the top of this or a tassel at front of the top of the boot. [illustration: plate xxix.-- (_a_) embroidered silk gauze dress. - . (_b_) gauze dress with appliqued design. - . (_c_) printed linen outdoor dress. - (_pattern, see p. _).] nineteenth century. william iv. male. the hair was worn rather full in curls at the sides or on top, parted at the left side, besides being occasionally parted at the centre. side whiskers, curved forward, still continued, and a short trimmed beard was now worn round under the chin by many, moustaches also made their first appearance at the end of this reign. top-hats were high and straight, but many still adhered to the tapered crown and larger brim. the same plain stocks of black satin continued, with or without a front bow, and a soft pleated or frilled shirt-front. the coats were similar to the last reign: the chief differences being an increase in the length of the waist, wider tails, and large lapels of a similar cut: velvet collars and cuffs were much worn, and the waist was still made tight. a coat with a square skirt as in fig. is seen for the first time, and the swallow-tailed coat was worn not quite so long. a lower opening to the waistcoat was generally seen in evening attire, which sometimes had but four small buttons, while more of the single-breasted type were in use, with and without lapels. very tight trousers to the ankle buttoned up to the calf continued, or plain trousers were held by straps under the boot; twill, corduroy, or nankeen were both strapped or free at the ankle and rather short. knee-breeches were still worn by many for evening dress, and long italian capes with overcapes and high turn-over collars were fashionable, besides the very full-skirted greatcoat. boots and shoes were square at the toes and rather long and narrow, the shoes having a bow or buckle. short wellington boots continued much in use, also spats. fobs of gold seals, &c., were worn, and eye-glasses attached to a black ribbon is a noticeable feature. nineteenth century. victoria. female. the hair was parted in the centre and tightened in a top setting of plaits, with side curls over the ears. this mode was retained by many till the fifties, but the top plaits began to be set lower at the back, and the same flat parted hair was brought in a curved shape to the front of the ears, often in a small plait, allowing the ear to show, or in a plaited knot at either side; about it was waved, parted, and simply curved from the forehead over the ears in a fuller manner, sometimes being turned under to increase the side fullness, while the back hair was arranged lower down the neck. in the sixties the hair was waved and caught behind in ringlets or was bunched into the hideous chignons, which are seen till about . [illustration: fig. .-- - .] the variety of caps and hats is too alarming to deal with, and baffles comprehensible description, so it is best for the student to dip into the hundreds of illustrations through this period in the _ladies' magazine_, _punch_, the _illustrated london news_, or the _ladies' treasury_ for the later styles. the straw bonnet with a straighter poke front was favoured till , when the front became considerably reduced in size and fitted closely round the face. the larger brimmed bonnets had a little frill by the ears, and the tight-brimmed bonnet often had the frill all round with a flower also tucked in effectively to the wearer's taste, and we see this favoured till the seventies. in the fifties a large flat leghorn hat with a small crown was in evidence, the brim dipping back and front, decorated with feathers or bows, and a three-cornered french hat with feathers set in the brim came in with revival of the th-century style about . a small bowler hat and a very small "pork-pie" hat appears in the late sixties, and a tiny-shaped bonnet of a curved form during the seventies. [illustration: plate xxx.-- (_a_) printed silk bodice. - . (_pattern, see p. ._) (_b_) gathered linen bodice. - . (_c_) silk bodice and bertha. - .] [illustration: fig. .-- - .] at the beginning of this long reign we find the pointed bodice with a normal length of waist has really come to stay, though many dresses retain the waistband till the fifties, and there is such a confusion of styles at that time, it is difficult to arrange a sequence. from the th century fashions became more complicated in the greater variety of design, each overlapping the other, and several distinct forms of character come and go during this long reign. i do not envy the person who undertakes the chronology of our present period. at the commencement in the huge sleeves gathered at the wrist were still in evidence, especially as a gauze oversleeve to evening attire, and they continued thus to the fifties, but very large sleeves were really dying out and the usual reaction was setting in; the full-shouldered sleeve had turned a somersault and was neatly gathered tight from the shoulder to the elbow, the fullness falling on the forearm, and this was gathered into a tight setting or wristband. the =v=-shaped front to the bodice was kept in many dresses by a collar or two tapering from the shoulders to the waist, the fullness of the breast often being tightly gathered at the shoulders, besides a few inches in the front point of the bodice. a very plain tight-fitting sleeve became fashionable, and on most of these we find a small upper sleeve or a double one as shown in a, plate xxx (see p. ); this was sometimes opened at the outer side. these sleeves continued till about . in a bell-shaped sleeve is noticed in ordinary dress, and this continued in various sizes till , reaching its fuller shape about . these types of sleeves were usually worn over a tight one or a full lawn sleeve gathered at the wrist; most bodices with this sleeve were closely fitted and high in the neck, the waist often being cut into small tabs. we also notice for a few years in the early fifties the deeper part of the bell curved to the front of the arm, giving a very ugly appearance. a close-fitting jacket also came into evidence till about with tight sleeves and cuffs, sometimes with a little turn-down collar and a longer skirt as in fig. c, plate xxxiii (see p. ). this particularly fine embroidered specimen, in imitation of the th-century style, is interestingly cut away short at the back to allow for better setting on the crinoline. there is another type of sleeve seen about , of a plain, full, square cut; these became varied in shape, being opened up the side and generally trimmed with wide braids. this clumsy character is seen up to , the later ones being fuller in cut. zouave jackets were occasionally worn in the forties and later in the early sixties, when the wide corselet belt was again favoured. skirts at the beginning of the reign were fully set out on drill petticoats, stiff flounces, and even whalebone, so it was hardly "a great effect" when the crinoline appeared about , though a furious attack was made against it at first; this undersetting developed to its fullest extent between and , and many dresses in the early sixties were also worn short, showing the high boots of this period. at first the crinoline was slightly held back from the front by ties, and again in the sixties it was often kept with a straight front, the fullness being held to the back, till the appearance of the bustle brought in another shape. the skirts were now pulled in tight to the front of the figure and bunched up at the back, with a train or shaped flounced pieces overlapping each other caught up under the bustle, as in fig. b, plate xxxiii (see p. ). [illustration: plate xxxi.-- (_a_) embroidered muslin outdoor dress, - . (_b_) riding habit. - . (_c_) gauze ball dress. - .] [illustration: fig. .--dress improvers, - .] mantles of a cumbersome type and shot-silk capes with long pointed fronts were worn, often heavily fringed, the former also being mostly decorated with braided designs. large paisley shawls were much used all through this reign, besides the cape and hood with its fine tassels which became very fashionable in the sixties. gloves and mittens are seen both long and short, the latter often beautifully embroidered on the back in the french style. hand-bags were often carried, of which examples are given in the plates of a variety of shapes; the favourite materials for their make were velvets and silks decorated with bullion, sequins, braids, needlework, and beads, and these bags were richly set in gilt, silver, or steel mounts. parasols were still heavily fringed, and were of the usual shapes. a very small one was carried in the carriages, and are even seen on the ladies' driving whips. shoes continued in the same heelless sandal character to the sixties for evening wear, but from the forties most outdoor shoes had a heel and large rosettes. with the seventies came round toes with a low round front and bow, and high shaped heels came to stay till the present day. boots of white satin, kid, or coloured silks were chiefly worn till the seventies, reaching just above the ankle, laced up the inner side, but many wore elastic sides from the fifties; the toes of these were rather square, and a toe-cap and front seam was made in many of this type. in the forties a tight rosette was sometimes placed low down towards the toes, and later, a huge bow was sewn on the front. high boots buttoned towards the side and very much shaped, with pointed round toes and high heels were sometimes laced and finished with a pair of tassels. spats were always fashionable through this period. nineteenth century. victoria. male. the same modes of doing the hair remained till the sixties, parted at one side and worn rather long and waved, with the side whiskers or beard all round the chin. the side whiskers were allowed to grow long between fifty-five and seventy, and full beards also became fashionable, while the hair was parted in the centre from front to back and flattened on the forehead. the favourite top-hat still reigned supreme, many of which retained the tapered top and large curled brim till about , and a bell shape was frequently seen in the fifties, but the real straight chimney shape was seen throughout till the eighties, with a rather narrow brim, and often of white or fawn-coloured cloth. the bowler hat increased in appreciation, being of a short type, with smallish brim. a short flat felt hat, with rather straight brim, also came into favour from the fifties; little round caps and caps with ear-flaps, for travelling, &c., were also in general use. the frock-coat kept the rather tight sleeves and tight waist, and full square skirt, with back pockets, also a deep lapel, sometimes with a velvet collar, and small cuffs; a breast-pocket was often placed on the left side, and in the fifties the type of morning coat with rounded-off fronts at the skirt appeared, also a small collar and lapel. square-cut jackets and tweed suits similar to our present shapes, but heavier in cut and with braided edges, were much in use. velvet or fur-trimmed overcoats, and heavy travelling-coats, also capes and inverness capes, were all in vogue. waistcoats became buttoned higher in the neck, and the stock-collar was supplanted in the sixties by a turn-down collar, and small tie or loose bow; many still affected the black stock and pointed collar to the seventies, when a high round collar began to appear. coloured and fancy waistcoats were much worn till the eighties, and evening dress was similar to the present cut, with slight differences in the length of lapels and waistcoat front. the trousers were made with the front flap till they were buttoned down the front about , and side pockets became general. braids may be noted down the sides in the fifties, and are seen now and then all through the reign, while large plaids and stripes were highly esteemed. short wellington boots were chiefly preferred up to the sixties, and trouser-straps and spats were fashionable all through the reign. the heavier lace-up boot came in during the fifties, and a very shaped type of fashion appeared in the sixties. having now completed the general survey of costume, the following pages are given up to the cut and measurements of various antique garments. patterns of various reigns from antique costume with notes and measurements i have striven to gather as many representative patterns of dress types and accessories as possible, and also give many measurements from the various examples, when i have been unable to obtain a complete pattern. the character of cut and proportion is the essential point in the study of dress design, and the intimate knowledge of periods. when seeing a collection of patterns, one is astonished at the great variety in cut used to arrive at the different bodice types. several patterns of single pieces are given, as it aids one to find the fellow-part; for example, the photo of a back given in fig. c, plate iii (see p. ), will go with the front cut on page ; even though these two pieces did not belong to the same body, the cut is seen from which to design the missing part. often a small piece is wanting for the top of the shoulder, which can easily be supplied to fill the sleeve measurement. the types of trimmings in the different centuries will soon be acquired by a careful student, and the proportions of patterns will be valued for gaining the character. i believe with this collection one could get the true effects of any style of dress seen in the period prints. the drawings are mostly scaled for the half, and the measurement, in inches, will be found by dots on the top of the collotypes, and by a marked line on the pattern pages. one must note, with the th-century dress, the sleeve cuffs can be changed, so i give, on page , a full-size measurement of the elbow-cuff seen in fig. a, plate xvi (see p. ), and a deeper one of this style is seen on fig. c, plate xii (see p. ), gathered seven times at the elbow. the plain square type was pleated in the front as given on page , and a variety of this character is shown on fig. b, plate xv (see p. ). though many patterns may be found remarkable in proportions, an allowance is often to be made for the undersetting, as well as for the thick, straight corsets worn to the end of the th century. i give several specimens of quilting on petticoats of the th century, which will probably be found useful to artists; the measurement is also given of their circumference, which attained similar proportions to those set on the victorian crinolines, going to yards round: four th century ones measured , , , inches, and they are often inch longer at the sides, to allow for setting over the panniers; a pattern is given on pages and . the embroidered pockets on page were worn in pairs at the sides on the petticoats, and only showed when the dress was looped up. the extra lawn sleeves, given on page , show how precious the superfine linen was held, with its superb gathered work, lace ruffles, and often fine embroidery; these pieces could be looked after with special care in the laundry, and could be tacked, pinned, or buttoned on when required. the th and th century collars were mostly attached to the chemise or shirt, as is seen in many of the old prints. on page i give examples of shape of the various stomachers, which will be found useful for getting the characteristic proportions. the scarves worn round the body of the th century cavaliers were from feet inches wide to feet inches, and from feet inches to feet in length. [illustration: plate xxxii.-- (_a_) silk dress. - . _pattern, see p. ._ (_b_) gauze walking dress. - . (_c_) silk dress. - . _pattern, see p. ._] the stocking top, fig. c, plate vi (see p. ), is probably of similar proportions to the woollen one in the victoria and albert museum, on which the bell-top circumference is inches, and the full length of stocking inches. on page a cap of three pieces is given; their real design is at present unknown, but i trust the museum authorities may soon discover their placing, for many of these pieces are in existence, and this set in my collection is impressed with a beautiful pattern. the bodice, fig a, plate x (see p. ), should have been set on a stiff-fronted corset to give it the straight style, as it is charmingly proportioned and clean in outline. i have also measured a short circular cloak of the early th century, which is inches in diameter, with a square collar inches deep; and another cape of the late th century, inches in diameter. on page will be found the smaller tabs which are placed round the jerkin, with a deep front point, as in fig. a, plate viii_a_ (see p. ); the collar of this type often rises ¾ inches in the front to inches at the back, in order to carry the stiff ruff or deep turned-down collar. tabs of the smallest dimensions, in the earlier elizabeth and james character, generally have six pieces from front to the middle of the back, which are from to inches deep. the epaulets are made in small stiff tabs, caught together in two places only, and so have plenty of give in the shoulder movements; they run to ¼ inches at the widest part, and do not continue right under the arm. fig. d, plate v (see p. ), has the middle seam of the back open from the waist to within inches of the collar, which is noticeable on many of the later charles i coats. long aprons are conspicuous through the th century, and one measured was inches wide, gathered to inches at the waist; they were decorated with three bands of embroidered insertion down the front, with a -inch plain border, edged with small lace; this is typical in character of design, as is also the same style of linen cape seen on a figure, page . a similar one, lent by sir robert filmer, is at the victoria and albert museum; also a cap, of which i give a pattern, a, page . the smaller type of embroidered aprons of the late th and th centuries measure inches wide, ½ inches deep, with the centre dipping to ¾ inches; another shape is inches wide, inches in centre, and ½ inches on sides. the bodice, with deep skirt, fig. b, plate xviii (see p. ), is a type seen all through the th century, both longer and shorter in the skirt. the pattern of the th-century breeches is interesting as regards the cut, the upper part being kept plain, otherwise the gathered fullness would have disturbed the set of the jerkin tabs; the band of these breeches has six hooks either side to back, which fasten to eyes on an under flap sewn on body of jerkin. the epaulet on this pattern is only a ¾-inch piece, braided with two narrow braids, and the bows on tabs are of ribbon, ½ inches wide. the three patterns of capes given on pages , will be found useful, as they are simple and very typical of the victorian times, long shawls being otherwise much used. the fullness of the elizabethan overdress seen on b, plate ii (see p. ), is inches to the back seam, and the fig. c, on the same plate, is inches. the "jump," or jacket, fig. a, plate iii (see p. ), is inches round, the fullness of the sleeve inches, and the length of back inches. an over-tunic of the early th century is interesting to examine, though it is a specimen of german costume. [illustration: plate xxxiii.-- (_a_) silk dress with court train. - . (_b_) silk afternoon dress. - . (_c_) silk coat and skirt. - . _pattern, see p. ._] patterns to scale _for detailed list, see page ._ [illustration: pattern . _made in satin on wood_ _piccadilloes - _ _side view open_ _gather to a ring at mark_ _gather to a ring at mark_ _a pair belonging above_ _ caps - th c._ _ in. ties_ _ - th c._ _others measure_ × × × _cap - th c._ _cap of pierced embroidery, late th & early th cent._] [illustration: pattern . _ th c. stock, chas. ii._ _ th c._ _stiff gorget for carrying collar_ _stock_ _cap, embroidered, st half th c._ _collar and caps, century_] [illustration: pattern . _ruff, - _ _ in. round_ _ round_ _ in. round_ _ century_ _ st half of th c._ _caps and extra sleeves of fine linen century_] [illustration: pattern . _embroidered linen jacket, front and sleeve, th century_ _embroidered linen bodice front, chas. i._] [illustration: pattern . _elizabethan jerkin of punched leather._ _gold embroidered stomacher, about - _ - - - ] [illustration: pattern . _set of tabs for male jerkin, cent._ _back_ _front_ _side_ _pattern type from worked pieces elizabethan reign - _] [illustration: pattern . _circular cape, cent._ _collar_ _join top and gather at dots._ _cap, - ._] [illustration: pattern . _bodice_ _fig. plate _] [illustration: pattern . _corset, - _ _cut of bodice, fig. b, plate _ _corset, - _ _corset, - _] [illustration: pattern . _ buttons_ _sleeve seam_ _start epaulette_ _finish_ _scale_ _collar_ _similar type to fig. c, plate _ _jerkin of white quilted satin_ _see page opposite for breeches of same, - . victoria and albert museum, kensington._] [illustration: pattern . _breeches, - _ _ties_ _pocket_ _pocket_ _fulled_ _hooks to fasten to jerkin_] [illustration: pattern . _sleeve_ _ buttons_ _neck band_ _buttons ¾ in._ _open_ _ buttons_ _full cape coat, v. & a. museum, about - _] [illustration: pattern . _back of bodice, fig. b, plate ._ _ ½ front to back of epaulette_ _male cap, early century_] [illustration: pattern . _ collars, time chas. ii._] [illustration: pattern . _jacket. fig. c, plate _ _top sleeve_ _open to mark_ _open_ _open_] [illustration: pattern . _sleeve cuffs, cent._ _early type_ _late type_ _ - , pockets_ _hanging sleeve of fig. c, plate _ _open_ _embroidered bodice fronts, early century_] [illustration: pattern . _quilted linen corsage, - _ _open_ _herald's coat, fig. a, plate . victoria & albert museum_ _open_ _open_] [illustration: pattern . _front of embroidered linen sleeved waistcoat, - _ _victoria and albert museum_] [illustration: pattern . _inner vest_ _sleeve waistcoat, early th cent._ _sleeve to lace on_ _open to mark_] [illustration: pattern . _breeches, - _ _button_ _pleat_ _pocket_ _open for pocket_ _fullness_ _open_ _pocket_] [illustration: pattern . _breeches, th century_ _waist_ _gather_ _open_ _top_ _knee strap_ _waist_ _loose flap_ _pocket_ _pocket_] [illustration: pattern . _fly knee_ _breeches, th century_] [illustration: pattern . _coat, fig. b, plate _ _dart_ _open to waist_ _collar_] [illustration: pattern . _coat, fig. b, plate _ _joined under pleat_ _pocket_ _pocket_ _small pocket_ _open_ _caught_ _open_ _open_ _side tab_ _corderoy trousers ._] [illustration: pattern . _fig. a, plate coat, - _ _cuff_ _band to draw up_ _open_ _double_ _under collar_ _turnover collar_ _pocket_ _pleat_ _open_ _open_ _ in. tie_ _leather breeches, - _ _straw hat, - _] [illustration: pattern . _join_ _fold_ _under collar_ _turnover collar_ _pleat_ _open to waist_ _coat, - directoire type see_ fig. ] [illustration: pattern . _collar_ _breast pocket, left only_ _coat, - similar type to fig. c, plate ._] [illustration: pattern . _pocket_ _slightly gather_ _pocket_ _top_ _foot strap_ _strap inside_ _open_ _foot strap_ _buff linen trousers, - _] [illustration: pattern . _turnover collar_ _collar tab_ _pocket flap_ _pocket_ _pleat_ _joined on waistcoat inside_ _open to mark_ _coat, fig. a, plate _] [illustration: pattern . _bodice, - _ _trimming stretched to curl over_ _sleeve straps_ _collar_ _waist_ _gathered in strap_ _piped straps and seams_] [illustration: pattern . _bell sleeved bodice, - _ _trimmed narrow velvet braid_ _open_ _open_] [illustration: pattern . _bodice of linen dress, fig a, plate _ _buttons for front_ _cord for looping train, inches_ _outside sleeve_] [illustration: pattern . _bodice, - _ _bodice, - type_ _sleeve for net covering_ _gathered sleeve_ _bodice, - _] [illustration: pattern . _jacket bodice, fig. a, plate _] [illustration: pattern . _bodice, - similar type fig. a, plate _ _epaulette_ _band round waist_ _front_] [illustration: pattern . _sleeveless overjacket, early century embroidered_ _wrist strap_ _tie on_ _gather_ _gather_ _strap_ _gather_ _spencer, - , piped trimming_] [illustration: pattern . _bodice, - _ _top_ _silk to line_ _under lining_] [illustration: pattern . _corset pattern, century_ _bodice of fig. a, plate _] [illustration: pattern . _similar type of bodice to fig. b, plate . bodice with type of pleated back, - _ _box pleats_ _pleated back_ _lining for front_ _lining for back_ _laced_] [illustration: pattern . _tab gathered in centre trimming on epaulette_ _cape_ _epaulette band_ _waist band_ _collar_ _pattern, fig. c, plate _ _thickly kilted skirt to bodice, ins._ _bodice, fig. a, plate _] [illustration: pattern . _zouave jacket, late century_ _gather_ _bodice, - _] [illustration: pattern . _silk jacket, fig. b, plate _ _gathered_ _pleat_] [illustration: pattern . _bodice, fig. c, plate _] [illustration: pattern . _bodice, fig. a, plate _ _wrist_ _bertha_ _gather_ _gather_] [illustration: pattern . _cased_ _pleat_ _pleats_ _open_ _open_ _open to mark_ _pocket_ _coat, fig. c, plate _] [illustration: pattern . _waist_ _s. lining_ _puff sleeve_ _gather_ _gather_] [illustration: pattern . _dress, - _ _pleated_ _pleat_ _apron front_ _gathered_ _mob cap, - _ _gathered in band_ _trimmed double lace frill round front_ _width of insertion_ _cap with comb, - _ _puff comb_] [illustration: pattern . _pleated_ _pleated_ _pleated_ _side plaquet_ _quilted petticoat, - _ _waist band_] [illustration: pattern . _pleats_ _pleat to notch_ _made in lining_ _petticoat, fig. b, plate _ _top_] [illustration: pattern . _dress, fig. b, plate _ _pleat_ _under corset_ _lining back_] [illustration: pattern . _dress, fig. c, plate _ _neck_ _lining_ _box pleats_ _small pleats_ _s pleats_ _small pleats_ _s. pleats_ _pleat_] [illustration: pattern . _pleat_ _pleat_ _pleat_ _pleat_ _pleat_ _pleat_ _white linen dress, - _ _front_ _sleeve_ _gather_ _button_ _outside sleeve_ _caught up thus_] [illustration: pattern . _gathered_ _open to mark_ _gathered_ _striped cotton dress, - _ _gathered_ _collar_ _front_ _wrist_ _ sleeve frills_ _open_ _gather_] [illustration: pattern . _pattern of under robe, - _ _gathered_ _gathered_ _waist_ _sleeve_ _s. placquets_] [illustration: pattern . _waist band_ _neck band_ _gathered_ _cuff_ _top_ _gathered_ _pattern of fig c, plate _] [illustration: _muslin dress, - _ _cuff_ _yoke_ pattern .] [illustration: pattern . _gather_ _gather_ _satin dress, - _ _gather_ _gather_ _top_] [illustration: pattern . _top gathered to a fold round sleeve_ _gathered_ _dress, fig. c, plate _ _gathered_ _gathered_ _gather_ _cape_ _gathered_ _gathered_ _waist_ _waist_ _gather_ _gather_] [illustration: pattern . _dress, fig. b, plate _ _gathered_ _gathered_ _gathered_ _gathered_ _band front of waist_ _waist_] [illustration: pattern . _gather_ _gather_ _dress, fig. c, plate ._ _trimming over shoulder_ _top_ _gather_ _gather_ _tight pleats_ _waist_] [illustration: pattern . _lady's coat, - _] [illustration: pattern . _blue silk dress, - _ _fig. a, plate _ _scale inches_ _gather_ _gather_ _pleat_] [illustration: pattern . _reefed polonaise, pinked edge, - _ _scale inches_ _gather_ _plain_ _gather_ _plain_ _pleat_ _gather_ _puff sleeve lining_ _reefed up_ _ties_ _puff sleeve_] [illustration: pattern . _lady's jacket, fig. c, plate _ _gathered_ _pleated_] [illustration: pattern . _fullness for arm_ _an interesting cape of shot silk, - _] [illustration: pattern . _cut in one_ _front_ _cape collar_ _ pieces_ _black velvet cape, - _ _victorian cape, - _ _same cut from ins._] [illustration: pattern . _sleeve, century_ _collar_ _cut of doublet and slashed sleeve, - _ _sleeve, - ._ _epaulette_ _cut of boy's stays, coat, vest, - _] [illustration: pattern . _male robe - _ _black felt puritan hat, - _ _v. and a. museum_ _black velvet hat, - _] detailed list of scaled patterns pattern , page :-- piccadillo, - . three caps, - century. cap of three pieces, - c. triangular cap, - c. long cap, c. cap, late c., early c. pattern , page :-- collars, c. gorget of linen, c. stocks, and c. male caps and female, and c. pattern , page :-- ruff, c. extra linen sleeves, and one c. caps, female, c. pattern , page :-- front of linen jacket, c. front of linen bodice, charles i. pattern , page :-- elizabethan jerkin. stomachers, and c. pattern , page :-- set of tabs for male jerkin, c. pattern type, sleeve and bodice front, - . pattern , page :-- circular cape, c. cap, female, - . pattern , page :-- bodice, fig. , plate x, james i. pattern , page :-- corsets and bodice of, fig. , plate v, c. pattern , page :-- jerkin of white quilted satin, c. pattern , page :-- breeches of same suit. pattern , page :-- cape-coat, c. pattern , page :-- back of bodice, plate vii, c. shaped cap, male, and c. pattern , page :-- collars, charles ii. pattern , page :-- jacket, fig. _c_, plate iv, c. pattern , page :-- sleeve-cuffs, c. embroidered pockets, and c. hanging sleeve, fig. _c_, plate ii, - c. embroidered bodice fronts, - c. pattern , page :-- quilted linen corsage, - . herald's coat, fig. _a_, plate vii, - c. pattern , page :-- sleeved waistcoat, - . pattern , page :-- sleeved waistcoat and vest, early c. pattern , page :-- breeches, - . pattern , page :-- breeches, c. pattern , page :-- breeches, c. pattern , page :-- coat, fig. _b_, plate xxvi, c. pattern , page :-- coat, fig. _b_, plate xiii, c. corderoy trousers, from . pattern , page :-- coat, late c., fig. _a_, plate xv. leather breeches, late - c. straw hat, - . pattern , page :-- coat, - . pattern , page :-- coat, - . pattern , page :-- buff linen trousers, - . pattern , page :-- morning coat, fig. _a_, plate xxvi, c. pattern , page :-- bodice, - . pattern , page :-- bell-sleeved bodice, - . pattern , page :-- bodice of linen dress, fig. _a_, plate xxii, about . pattern , page :-- bodice, - . bodice, - . bodice, - . pattern , page :-- jacket bodice, fig. _a_, plate xxiv, about . pattern , page :-- bodice, similar type, fig. _a_, plate xxx, - . pattern , page :-- sleeveless over jacket, early c. spencer, - . pattern , page :-- bodice, - . pattern , page :-- corset pattern, c. bodice of fig. _a_, plate xiv, c. pattern , page :-- bodice with type of pleated sack back, - . pattern , page :-- bodice, fig. _c_, plate xxviii, c. bodice, fig. _a_, plate xviii, c. pattern , page :-- zouave jacket, late c. bodice, - . pattern , page :-- silk jacket, fig. _b_, plate xix, c. pattern , page :-- bodice, fig. _c_, plate xviii, c. pattern , page :-- bodice, fig. _a_, plate xxx, c. pattern , page :-- lady's coat, fig. _c_, plate xxxiii. pattern , page :-- polonaise dress, - . pattern , page :-- dress, - . mob cap, - . cap with comb top, - . pattern , page :-- quilted petticoat, c. pattern , page :-- petticoat, fig. _b_, plate xvi, c. pattern , page :-- dress, fig. _b_, plate xvi. pattern , page :-- dress, fig. _c_, plate xvi. pattern , page :-- white linen dress, - . pattern , page :-- striped cotton dress, - . pattern , page :-- pattern of under robe, - . pattern , page :-- dress, fig. _c_, plate xxv. pattern , page :-- muslin dress, - . pattern , page :-- satin dress, - . pattern , page :-- dress, fig. _c_, plate xxix. pattern , page :-- dress, fig. _b_, plate xxviii. pattern , page :-- dress, fig. _c_, plate xxxii. pattern , page :-- lady's coat, - . pattern , page :-- silk dress, fig. _a_, plate xxxii, - . pattern , page :-- reefed polonaise, - . pattern , page :-- lady's jacket, fig. _c_, plate xix, c. pattern , page :-- cape, - . pattern , page :-- cape, - . cape, - . pattern , page :-- upper sleeve and collar, c. bodice with slashed sleeve, - . boy's stays, coat, and vest, - . pattern , page :-- male robe, - . puritan hat, - . black velvet hat, - . index aprons-- century, , c., , , bags, , , bertha, , bouquet holder, breeches-- mediæval, c., , c., , , c., , , bustle, calash, capes-- c., , c., c., , , , , chain ornaments-- to c., , c., , cloaks-- to c., , c., , , , , c., collars-- c., , , , , c., , , , , c., , corsets-- to c., , c., , , c., , , c., , c., crinolines, , decorative styles-- black-stitch work, , braided, , , , , , , , , , , , , , button, , , , , , laced, , , , , piped, , pleated, , pricked, , , , punched, , , , puffed, , , , , , , , , , , , purfled, , , ribbon, , , , , , serrated or shaped edging, , , , , , , slashing, , , , , , , , , , , , , straw-work, , tassel, tinsel, tulle, doublets, , dress-- prehistoric, female, ; male, to c., female, , , ; male, , to c., female, , , , ; male, , , c., female, , , ; male, , , , c., , , . henry viii, female, , ; male, , . ed. vi and mary, female, , ; male, , . eliz., female, , , ; male, , c., james i, female, , ; male, , . chas. i, female, ; male, , , . commonwealth, female and male, , . chas. ii, female, , ; male, , . james ii, female, , ; male, . william and mary, female, , ; male, , . anne, female, ; male, . george i, female, ; male, c., george ii, female, ; male, . george iii to , female, , , , , ; male, , c., george iii (_continued_), female, , ; male, . george iv, female, ; male, . william iv, female, ; male, . victorian, female, ; male, . note also page drill petticoat, ear-rings, - epaulets-- c., , , c., , , , c., fans-- c., , c., , c., , , farthingale, , foot-wear-- to the end of c., , , , , , , c., c., henry viii, , ; ed. vi and mary, , ; elizabeth, , c., james i, , ; chas. i, , ; commonwealth, ; chas, ii, , ; james ii, , ; william and mary, , c., ; anne, , ; george i, , ; george ii, , ; george iii to , , c., george iii, , ; george iv, , ; william iv, , ; victoria, , girdles-- to c., , , c., gloves-- c., , , c., , c., , , , head-dress-- prehistoric, female, ; male, to c., female, ; male, to c., female, ; male, c., female, ; male, c., henry viii, female, ; male, . ed. vi and mary, female, ; male, . eliz., female, ; male, c., james i, female, ; male, . chas. i, female, ; male, . commonwealth, . chas. ii, female, ; male, . james ii, female, ; male, . william and mary, female, ; male, c., anne, female, ; male, . george i, female, ; male, . george ii, female, ; male, . george iii, female, , ; male, , . george iv, female, ; male, . william iv, female, ; male, . victoria, female, ; male, heraldic fashion, , , , hoop skirts-- c., , , c., , c., jackets-- to c., , , , c., , c., c., , c., lapets, , , , maccaroni fashion, mantles, , masks, muffs, , , , , , , , , neck-wear, , , , , , , , , , , overcoats, , , panniers, , parasols, , , , patterns scaled, pelisses, , , plates (collotypes), frontispiece, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , pockets, , polonaise, , purses, , , quilting, , , , , , , , , ruffs, , , , , , , , , , , , , , sack-back (or watteau) dress, , , , , , , sashes, , , sequins, shawls, spats, spencers, , sticks, , , , , , , stockings, , , , , , , , , , , , stomachers, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , printed by spottiswoode, ballantyne & co. ltd. colchester, london & eton, england * * * * * dressmaking simple dressmaking. by ethel r. hambridge, _art teachers' certificate, etc._ in foolscap to, cloth, pp., with plates and black-and-white diagrams. _s._ _d._ net. this book deals exhaustively with the various stitches and fastenings used in dressmaking and their applications, pressing, making-up processes, taking measurements, cutting-out; and also contains some notes on fitting. simplicity and completeness have been the dual purpose of the author, and her systematic treatment of the subject, aided by her remarkable gift of lucid explanation, and her unique practical experience, has produced a valuable contribution to the literature of domestic science. dress cutting and making. for the classroom, workroom, and home. by emily wallbank, _head of the needlework and dressmaking department, national training school of cookery_, and marian wallbank. in foolscap to, cloth, pp., with diagrams and illustrations. _s._ net. the object of this work will be realized in some degree if it helps the practical reader so to mobilize her knowledge of underlying causes that she is able to produce any desired effect in the cut and fashion of a garment. sir isaac pitman & sons, limited amen corner, london, e.c. . embroidery an embroidery pattern book. by mary e. waring. with a foreword by professor w. r. lethaby, _royal college of art_. in cloth gilt, pp., coloured plates, with full-page black-and-white diagrams. _s._ _d._ net. "designing of this sort is no mystery that requires 'genius'; it is of the same kind as planting a garden border.... most embroideresses, who will begin by adapting the elements given in this pattern book, and gain interest and confidence in so doing, will go forward insensibly to varying the elements themselves, and to taking flowers and animals direct from nature. this ... is the work of a highly competent designer of embroidery, and i heartily recommend it."--w. r. lethaby in the foreword. embroidery & design. by joan h. drew. in foolscap to, cloth, about pp., with black-and-white illustrations and designs. _s._ net. the writer endeavours to arouse in her readers a desire for better designs, and greater individuality and thought in the home embroidery of to-day. the difference between decorative and undecorative work is clearly explained with the aid of many illustrations, and these are of the right size for tracing and working. sir isaac pitman & sons, limited art the art of painting in pastel. by j. littlejohns, r.b.a., and l. richmond, r.a. with a frontispiece and foreword by frank brangwyn, r.a. with beautiful full-page coloured plates and other illustrations. in demy to, cloth gilt. _s._ net. extract from _the connoisseur_: "the beautiful volume may quicken public interest in the method. the plates in colour afford a fine series of examples of the resources of the medium and the best methods of exploiting them." drawing and design. a school course in composition. by samuel clegg, _headmaster of the county secondary school, long eaton, derbyshire_, with a foreword by william rothenstein, _professor of civic art, sheffield university_. in. by ½ in. _s._ _d._ net. a feature of the book is the inclusion of plates printed by scholars from wood-blocks of their own making and designing. it also contains good sections on lettering and pen and ink drawing, as well as on pencil work, colour work, etc. sir isaac pitman & sons, limited from the artistic crafts series hand-loom weaving. by luther hooper. drawings by the author and noel rooke. coloured and collotype reproduction. small crown vo, pp. _s._ _d._ net. extract from _the morning post_: "... every phase and process in weaving is described with so clear and careful an exactitude, that, helped as the text is by the author's sketches and diagrams, the reader should have no difficulty in conquering with its aid the rudiments of the craft." embroidery & tapestry weaving. by mrs. a. h. christie. _fourth edition._ diagrams and illustrations by the author, pp. of collotype reproductions. small crown vo, pp. _s._ _d._ net. extract from the _pall mall gazette_: "mrs. christie has performed her task to admiration, ... and her lucid explanations of various kinds of stitches ... should be of value to all workers at embroidery or tapestry weaving and to novices anxious to learn." sir isaac pitman & sons, limited from the artistic crafts series manuscript writing & lettering. by an educational expert. showing the historical development and practical application to modern handwriting of several manuscript styles derived from ancient roman letters. fully illustrated. foolscap to. _s._ net. extract from _the times_: "this book supplies and supplies generously a need which has become urgent.... for purposes purely practical, no teacher of plain handwriting need know more than this book tells him; nor should be content to know less." heraldry for craftsmen and designers. by w. h. st. john hope, litt.d., d.c.l. small crown vo, pp., diagrams and designs, collotype reproductions, and coloured plates, _s._ _d._ net. extract from _the athenæum_: "a series which includes three such books as mr. douglas cockerell's 'bookbinding,' mr. edward johnston's 'writing,' and this ranks almost as a national possession.... no artist can see this book without wanting to buy it, if it were only for the beauty of the objects selected for illustration." sir isaac pitman & sons, limited from the artistic crafts series writing and illuminating & lettering. by edward johnston. _tenth edition._ illustrations and diagrams by the author and noel rooke, pp. of examples in red and black, pp. of collotype reproductions, pp. small crown vo. _s._ _d._ net. extract from _the athenæum_: "... this book belongs to that extremely rare class in which every line bears the impress of complete mastery of the subject. we congratulate mr. johnston on having produced a work at once original and complete." bookbinding and the care of books. by douglas cockerell. _fourth edition._ drawings by noel rooke, pages collotype reproductions. small crown vo, pp. _s._ _d._ net. extract from _the times_: "... a capital proof of the reasoned thoroughness in workmanship, which is the first article in the creed of those who ... are attempting to carry into practice the industrial teaching of ruskin and william morris." sir isaac pitman & sons, limited * * * * * transcriber's note: the following printer's errors were corrected in the text: plate xi " sixteen leather boots and shoes, between and . original had " " instead of " " plate xxi " twenty-three boots and shoes, from to . original had "twenty-two" _c._ braided suit, - . original had " - " _c._ dress of spotted, - . original had "stockingette" _a._ morning coat of chintz, - . original had "chintze" the bodice, fig a, plate x (see p. ), original had "see p. " _sleeve_ original had "sleev" pattern . original had "patteen" pattern , page :-- dress, fig. _c_, plate xxv. original had "g" pattern , page :-- dress, fig. _c_, plate xxix. original had "g" the following inconsistencies are retained as printed: plate vii, c. black silk jerkin. illustration caption has - , list of illustrations has - . plate ix, a. lady's embroidered silk jacket. illustration caption has - , list of illustrations has - . plate xv, c. embroidered velvet coat. illustration caption has - , list of illustrations has - . plate xx, b. nine aprons. illustration caption has , list of illustrations has . the scarves worn round the body of the th century cavaliers were from feet inches wide to feet inches, and from feet inches to feet in length. second range is inconsistent as printed. plate xxxiii, c. silk coat and skirt. illustration caption has - , list of illustrations has - . the evolution of fashion by florence mary gardiner _author of "furnishings and fittings for every home," "about gipsies," &c. &c._ [illustration: sir robert bruce cotton.] london: the cotton press, granville house, arundel street, w.c. to frances evelyn, countess of warwick, whose enthusiastic and kindly interest in all movements calculated to benefit women is unsurpassed, this volume, by special permission, is respectfully dedicated, by the author. in the year of her majesty queen victoria's diamond jubilee, . [illustration: _millicent, duchess of sutherland._ _princess henry of pless._ _the countess of warwick._ _lady marjorie greville._ _lady eva dugdale._ the warwick ball.] preface. in compiling this volume on costume (portions of which originally appeared in the _ludgate illustrated magazine_, under the editorship of mr. a. j. bowden), i desire to acknowledge the valuable assistance i have received from sources not usually available to the public; also my indebtedness to the following authors, from whose works i have quoted:--mr. beck, mr. r. davey, mr. e. rimmel, mr. knight, and the late mr. j. r. planché. i also take this opportunity of thanking messrs. liberty and co., messrs. jay, messrs. e. r. garrould, messrs. walery, mr. box, and others, who have offered me special facilities for consulting drawings, engravings, &c., in their possession, many of which they have courteously allowed me to reproduce, by the aid of miss juliet hensman, and other artists. the book lays no claim to being a technical treatise on a subject which is practically inexhaustible, but has been written with the intention of bringing before the general public in a popular manner circumstances which have influenced in a marked degree the wearing apparel of the british nation. florence mary gardiner. _west kensington, ._ contents. chapter. page. i. the dress, b.c. --a.d. ii. curious headgear iii. gloves iv. curious footgear v. bridal costume vi. mourning vii. eccentricities of masculine costume viii. a chat about children and their clothing ix. fancy costume of various periods x. stage and floral costume the evolution of fashion chapter i. the dress, b.c. --a.d. . "fashions that are now called new have been worn by more than you; elder times have used the same, though these new ones get the name." _middleton's "mayor of quinborough."_ a hard fate has condemned human beings to enter this mortal sphere without any natural covering, like that possessed by the lower animals to protect them from the extremes of heat and cold. had this been otherwise, countless myriads, for untold ages, would have escaped the tyrannical sway of the goddess fashion, and the french proverb, _il faut souffrir pour être belle_, need never have been written. [illustration: early egyptian.] the costume of our progenitors was chiefly remarkable for its extreme simplicity; and, as far as we can gather, no difference in design was made between the sexes. a few leaves entwined by the stalks, the feathers of birds, the bark of trees, or roughly-dressed skins of animals were probably regarded by _beaux_ and _belles_ of the adamite period as beautiful and appropriate adornments for the body, and were followed by garments made from plaited grass, which was doubtless the origin of weaving, a process which is nothing more than the mechanical plaiting of hair, wool, flax, &c. in many remote districts these primitive fashions still prevail, as, for example, in madras, where, at an annual religious ceremony, it is customary for the low caste natives to exchange for a short period their usual attire for an apron of leaves. in the brazilian forests the _lecythis_, or "shirt tree," is to be found, from which the people roll off the bark in short lengths, and, after making it pliable in water, cut two slits for the arm-holes and one for the neck, when their dress is complete and ready for use. the north american indian employs feathers for purposes of the toilet, and many african tribes are noted for their deftly-woven fabrics composed of grass and other vegetable fibres, while furs and skins are essential articles of dress in northern latitudes. perhaps the earliest specimen of a modiste's bill in existence has recently been found on a chalk tablet at nippur, in chaldea. the hieroglyphics record ninety-two robes and tunics: fourteen of these were perfumed with myrrh, aloes and cassia. the date of this curious antique cannot be less than two thousand eight hundred years before the christian era. in ancient times it must be remembered that the principal seats of civilisation were assyria and egypt, and upon these countries western nations depended for many of the luxuries of life. the jews derived their fine fabrics from the latter place, which was particularly noted for its linen manufactures and for magnificent embroideries, of which the accompanying illustration will give some idea. medes and babylonians, of the highest class, partially arrayed themselves in silk, which cost its weight in gold, and about the time of ezekiel (b.c. ) it is known to have been used in the dress of the persians. it is a remarkable circumstance that this animal product was brought to the west manufactured in cloth, which was only half silk; and it is said the plan was devised of unravelling the stuff, which was rewoven into cloth of entire silk. owing to its high price, the romans forbade its being used for the entire dress by men, complete robes of silk being reserved for women. it is numbered among the extravagant luxuries of heliogabalus that he was the first man who wore a silken garment, and the anecdote is well known of the emperor aurelian, who refused, on the ground of its extravagant cost, a silk dress which his consort earnestly desired to possess. monuments still in existence show that the egyptians, owing to the warmth of their climate, were partial to garments of a semi-transparent character, while those living on the banks of the tigris, who were subjected to greater extremes of temperature, wore clothing of similar design, but of wool, with heavy fringes of the same as a trimming. in some cases this feature of assyrian costume is shown in double rows, one pendent, while the other stands out in a horizontal direction. [illustration: greek.] the early greek dress, or chiton, was a very simple contrivance, reaching to the feet. if ungirdled, it would trail on the ground; but generally it was drawn through the zone or waistbelt in such a manner that it was double to the extent of about thirty inches over the vital organs of the body. the great distinction between male and female dress consisted in the length of the skirt. the trimmings were of embroidery, woven diapers, figure bands with chariots and horses; and, in some cases, glass ornaments and thin metal plates were applied. among the working classes the chiton was, of course, homespun, or of leather. [illustration: roman.] the stola was the roman equivalent for the nineteenth century robe or gown, and in many respects resembled the greek chiton. the fabrics employed were wool and linen up to the end of the republic, though at a later date, as has already been stated, silk was imported. colour, under the emperors, was largely used, and at least thirteen shades of the dye obtained from the murex, which passed under the general name of purple, could be seen in the costume of both sexes. when the roman empire was dismembered (a.d. ) a style of dress seems to have flourished in the important towns of the mediterranean, which was similar to that worn in mediæval times in britain, and which may be examined in the specimens of statuary adorning tombs of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. the semi-tight under-dress and sleeves appear to have been elaborately embroidered, and the loose mantle of plain material was edged with a border. [illustration: byzantine.] one of the earliest descriptions of the female dress in britain is that of boadicea, the queen of the iceni, whom we are told wore a tunic woven chequerwise in purple, red, and blue. over this was a shorter garment open on the bosom, and leaving the arms bare. her yellow hair flowed over her shoulders, upon which rested an ample cloak, secured by a _fibula_ (brooch). a torque, or necklet, was also worn; a pair of bronze breastplates as a protection from the roman arrows, and her fingers and arms were covered with rings and bracelets. [illustration: anglo-saxon.] the costume of the anglo-saxon ladies consisted of a _sherte_, or _camise_, of linen next the skin, a kirtle, which resembled the modern petticoat, and a gunna, or gown, with sleeves. out of doors a mantle covered the upper portion of the body, and with the coverchief, or head rail, formed a characteristic feature of the dress of the day. cloth, silk, and linen were the favourite materials for clothing, and red, blue, yellow, and green the fashionable colours. very little black and white were used at this period. saxon women were renowned for their skill with the needle, and used large quantities of gold thread and jewels in their work. among other instances quoted, queen editha embroidered the coronation mantle of her husband, edward the confessor. for some years after the norman conquest, women retained the costume of the anglo-saxon period, with certain additions and modifications. fine coloured cloths and richest furs were used by both sexes, and sleeves and trains were such a length that it was found necessary to knot them, so that they should not trail upon the ground. the next important change was the surcoat and tight bodice, which was fastened in front to fit the figure. there are evident traces that as civilisation advanced the love of dress and the desire of the fair sex to appear beautiful in the eyes of all beholders increased in like proportion. from ancient mss. and other sources, we have ample proof of this. st. jerome calls women "_philoscomon_," that is to say, lovers of finery, and another writer states: "one of the most difficult points to manage with women is to root out their curiosity for clothes and ornaments for the body." st. bernard admonished his sister with greater candour than politeness on her visiting him, well arraied with riche clothinge, with perles and precious stones: "such pompe and pride to adorne a carion as is youre body. thinke ye not of the pore people, that be deyen for hunger and colde; and that for the sixth parte of youre gay arraye, forty persons might be clothed, refreshed, and kepte from the colde?" the increased facilities for travelling offered to those engaged in the crusades, and the necessary intercourse with other nations, caused considerable quantities of foreign materials to be imported to england during the middle ages: and this had a corresponding effect upon the costume of the period, which was chiefly remarkable for its richness and eccentricity of form. among the materials in use may be mentioned diaper cloth from ypres, a town in flanders, famous for its rich dress stuffs; tartan, called by the french "tyretaine," meaning _teint_, or colour of tyre (scarlet being indifferently used for purple by ancient writers, and including all the gradations of colour formed by a mixture of blue and red, from indigo to crimson). there was a fine white woollen cloth called blanket, named after its inventor, sarcenet, also from its saracenic origin, and gauze which was made at gaza in palestine. ermine was strictly confined to the use of the royal family and nobles, and cloth of gold, and habits embroidered with jewellery, or lined with minever or other expensive fur, could only be worn by knights and ladies with incomes exceeding marks per annum. those who had not more than marks were permitted to wear silver cloth, with ribands, girdles, &c., reasonably embellished; also woollen cloth not costing more than six marks the piece. [illustration: th century.] the tight forms of dress now in common use among women were an incentive to tight lacing, an injurious practice, from which their descendants suffer. a lady is described "clad in purple pall, with gentyll body and middle small," and another damsel, whose splendid girdle of beaten gold was embellished with emeralds and rubies, evidently, from the description, had a waist which was not the size intended by nature. [illustration: th century.] during the wars of the roses both trade and costume made little progress, and after the union of the houses of york and lancaster by the marriage of henry vii. with his queen, elizabeth, their attention was chiefly concerned in filling their impoverished coffers, which left them little opportunity for promoting new fashions in dress. henry viii. afforded ample facilities for the revival of the trade in dress goods, and there is little difficulty in tracing female costume of the sixteenth century when we remember that in the course of thirty-eight years he married six wives, besides having them painted times without number by all the popular artists of the day. [illustration: th century. _from portrait of mary queen of scots._] j. r. planché in his "history of british costume," says: "the gowns of the nobility were magnificent, and at this period were open in front to the waist, showing the kirtle, or inner garment, as what we should call the petticoat was then termed." anne of cleves, who found so little favour in henry's eyes, is said to have worn at their first interview "a rich gowne of cloth of gold made round, without any train, after the dutch fashion;" and in a wardrobe account of the eighth year of this bluebeard's reign appears the following item: "seven yards of purple cloth of damask gold for a kirtle for queen catherine of arragon." the dress of catherine parr is thus described by pedro de gante, secretary to the spanish duke de najera, who visited henry viii. in - : "she was robed in cloth of gold, with a 'saya' (petticoat) of brocade, the sleeves lined with crimson satin and trimmed with three-piled crimson velvet. her train was more than two yards long." articles of dress were often bequeathed by will. in one made on the th of august, , william cherington, yeoman, of waterbeche, leaves "to my mother _my holyday gowne_." nicholas, dyer of feversham, th october, , "to my sister, alice bichendyke, thirteen shillings and ninepence _which she owed me_, and two kerchiefs of holland." john holder, rector of gamlingay, in leaves to jane greene "my clothe frock lined with satin cypress." these entries are from wills in the ely registry. [illustration: th century.] a peculiar feature in the costume of both sexes was sleeves distinct from the gown, but attached (so as to be changed at pleasure) to the waistcoat. among the inventories we find three pairs of purple satin sleeves for women, one pair of linen sleeves paned with gold over the arm, quilted with black silk and wrought with flowers; one pair of sleeves of purple gold tissue damask wire, each one tied with aglets of gold; one pair of crimson satin sleeves, four buttons of gold being set on each, and in every button nine pearls. we are all familiar with the distended skirts, jewelled stomachers and enormous ruffs which adorned the virgin form of good queen bess. in the middle of her reign the body was imprisoned in whalebone, and the fardingale, the prototype of the modern hoop, was introduced, as it was not to be supposed that a lady who is said to have left three thousand dresses in her wardrobe would remain faithful to the fashions of her grandmother; and elizabeth's love of dress permeated all classes of society. the portrait of mary queen of scots, who was considered an authority on matters of the toilet, and whose taste for elegance of apparel had been cultivated to a high degree during her residence at the french court is given. there is a subtlety and charm about it which is wanting in the costume of her cousin elizabeth, and it may be considered a fair type of what was worn by a gentlewoman of that period. the full skirt appears to fall in easy folds, and the basqued bodice, with tight sleeves, is closely moulded to the figure and surmounted by an elaborately-constructed ruff of muslin and lace. [illustration: th century. ball dress, .] to the great regret of antiquarians, the wardrobes of our ancient kings, formerly kept at the tower, were by the order of james i. distributed. at no period was the costume of britain more picturesque than in the middle of the seventeenth century, and we naturally turn to its great delineators velasquez, van dyck, rembrandt, and rubens, who delighted in giving us such fine examples of their work. women had grown tired of the unwieldy fardingale, and changed it for graceful gowns with flowing skirts and low bodices, finished with deep vandyked collars of lace or embroidery. a studied negligence, an elegant _déshabillé_ prevailed in the stuart court, particularly after the restoration. charles ii.'s bevy of beauties are similarly attired, and the pictures in hampton court show us women whose snowy necks and arms are no longer veiled, and whose gowns of rich satin, with voluminous trains, are piled up in the background. engravings and drawings which may be seen in every printseller's window make special illustrations of this period unnecessary. [illustration: th century. walking costume.] dutch fashions appear to have followed in the wake of william and mary. stomachers and tight sleeves were once more in favour, and fabrics of a rich and substantial character were employed in preference to the softer makes of silk, which lent itself so well to the soft flowing lines of the previous era. an intelligent writer has remarked "that fashion from the time of george i. has been such a varying goddess that neither history, tradition, nor painting has been able to preserve all her mimic forms; like proteus struggling in the arms of telemachus, on the phanaic coast, she passed from shape to shape with the rapidity of thought." in the hoop had increased at the sides and diminished in front, and a pamphlet was published in that year entitled "the enormous abomination of the hoop petticoat, as the fashion now is." ten years later it is scarcely discernible in some figures, and in reappears, extending right and left after the manner of the court dress of the reign of george iii. for the abolition of this monstrosity we are indebted to george iv., and ladies' dresses then rushed to the other extreme. steel and whalebone was dispensed with, and narrow draperies displayed the form they were supposed to conceal, and were girdled just below the shoulders. [illustration: th century.--tea dress, .] these were in time followed by the bell-shaped skirts worn at the accession of her majesty queen victoria, during whose reign fashion has indeed run riot. the invention of the sewing machine was the signal for the appearance of frills and furbelows, and meretricious ornament of every kind. in the middle of the present century crinolines were again to the fore, skirts were proportionately wide and generally flounced to the top. the bodice terminated at the waist with a belt; but in some cases a garibaldi, or loose bodice of different texture, was substituted. the next change to be noted was that hideous garment the "polonaise," which was a revival of, and constructed on similar lines to, the "super froc" of the middle ages. for many years english ladies, with a supreme disregard for the appropriate, wore this with a skirt belonging to an entirely different costume. but at last people got nauseated with these abominations, and under the gentle sway and influence of "our princess" a prettier, more useful and rational costume appeared. in the graceful princess dress, which accentuated every good point in the figure, was generally worn; and though this costume in the latter part of its career was fiercely abused by the rotund matron and mrs. grundy, for clinging too closely to the lines of the human form, it was distinctly an advance as regards health and beauty on the varying styles which preceded it. [illustration: th century.--the polonaise, .] the æsthetic movement has also had a marked influence on our taste in all directions, but more especially in the costume of the last few years; and though the picturesque garb of the worshippers of the sunflower and the lily may not be adapted to the wear and tear of this workaday world, it is beautiful in form and design, incapable of undue pressure; and for children and young girls it would be difficult to imagine a more charming, artistic, and becoming costume. [illustration: tailor-made dress, .] once more we are eschewing classical lines for grotesque which makes caricatures of lovely women, and drives plain ones to despair. the subdued and delicate tints which a few seasons since were regarded with favour have been superseded by garish shades and bright colours, which seem to quarrel with everything in nature and art. unfortunately, we english are prone to extremes, and possess the imitative rather than the creative faculty. consequently, our national costume is seldom distinctive, but a combination of some of the worst styles of our continental neighbours, who would scorn to garb themselves with so little regard for fitness, beauty, and the canons of good taste. [illustration: tea gown, .] [illustration: an artistic dress, . _after a painting by sir joshua reynolds._] [illustration: modern evening dress.] two dominant notes, however, have been struck in the harmonies of costume during the last twenty-five years--the tailor-made dress, which may almost be regarded as a national livery; and the tea gown, that reposeful garment to which we affectionately turn in our hours of ease. how well each in its way is calculated to serve the purpose for which it is designed, the simple cloth, tweed, or serge costume moulded to the lines of the figure, adapted to our changeful climate, and giving a _cachet_ to the wearer, not always found in much more costly apparel, a rational costume in the best sense of the word, and one which women of all ages may assume with satisfaction to themselves and to those with whom they come in contact. the tea gown, on the other hand, drapes the figure loosely so as to fall in graceful folds, and may be regarded as a distinct economy, as it so often takes the place of a more expensive dress. beauty, which is one of heaven's best gifts to women, is useless unless appropriately framed, and a well-known exponent on the art of dressing artistically, has laid down the axiom that harmonies of colour are more successful than contrasts. if we turn to nature we have an unfailing source of inspiration. the foliage tints, sunset effects, the animal and mineral worlds all offer schemes of colour, which can be readily adapted to our persons and surroundings. and to look our best and, above all, to grow old gracefully, is a duty which every daughter of eve owes to humanity. the manner in which so many women give way early in life is simply appalling. while still in the bloom of womanhood they assume the habits and dress of decrepitude, submit to be placed on the social shelf without a murmur, and calmly allow those slightly their junior, and in some cases their senior, to appropriate the good things of life, and to monopolise the attention of all and sundry. mothers in their prime willingly allow anyone who can be persuaded to do so, to chaperone their daughters, and to pilot them through the social eddies and quicksands of their first season, and through sheer indolence fail to exercise the lawful authority and responsibility which maternity entails. the unmarried woman, conscious that she is no longer in her first youth, and indifferent to the charms of maturity, takes to knitting socks in obscure corners, and assumes an air of self-repression and middle-agedness which apparently takes ten years from her span of existence, and conveys to the casual onlooker, that she has passed the boundary line between youth and old age. why should these women sink before their time into a slough of dowdyism and cut themselves off from the enjoyments civilisation has provided for their benefit? equally to be deprecated are those who cling so desperately to youth that they entirely forget the later stages of life have their compensations. women who in crowded ballrooms display their redundant or attenuated forms to the gaze of all beholders, whose coiffure owes more to art than nature, and who comfort themselves with the conviction that in a carefully shaded light rouge and pearl powder are hardly distinguishable from the bloom of a youthful and healthy complexion. a variety of circumstances combine to bring into the world a race of people who cannot strictly lay claim to beauty, but who nevertheless have many good points which might be accentuated, while those that are less pleasing could be concealed. a middleaged woman will respect herself and be more respected by others if she drapes her person in velvet, brocade, and other rich fabrics which fall in stately folds, and give her dignity, than if she persists in decking herself in muslin, crepon, net, and similar materials, because in the long since past they suited her particular style. gossamers belong to the young, with their dimpled arms, shoulders of snowy whiteness, and necks like columns of ivory. their eyes are brighter than jewels, and their luxuriant locks need no ornament save a rose nestling in its green leaves, a fit emblem of youth and beauty. with the education and art training at present within the grasp of all classes of the community there is nothing to prevent our modifying prevailing fashions to our own requirements; and common sense ought to teach us (even if we ignore every other sentiment which is supposed to guide reasoning creatures) that one particular style cannot be appropriate to women who are exact opposites to each other. if each person would only think out for herself raiment beautiful in form, rich in texture, and adapted to the daily needs of life, we should be spared a large number of the startling incongruities which offend the eye in various directions. chapter ii. curious headgear. "here in her hair the painter plays the spider, and hath woven a golden mesh to entrap the hearts of men faster than gnats in cobwebs." _the merchant of venice._ [illustration: ancient jewish head-dress.] holy writ simply teems with allusions to the luxurious tresses of the fair daughters of the east, and there is little doubt that at an early period in the world's history women awakened to the fact that a well-tired head was a very potent attraction, and had a recognised market value. jewish women were particularly famed in this respect, and employed female barbers, who, with the aid of crisping pins, horns, and towers, prepared their clients for conquest. these jewelled horns were generally made of the precious metals, and the position denoted the condition of the wearer. a married woman had it fixed on the right side of the head, a widow on the left, and she who was still an unappropriated blessing on the crown. over the horn the veil was thrown coquettishly, as in the illustration. assyrian women delighted in long ringlets, confined by a band of metal, and the men were not above the weakness of plaiting gold wire with their beards. rimmel, in "the book of perfumes," relates a curious anecdote of mausolus, king of caria, who turned his people's fondness for flowing locks to account when his exchequer required replenishing. "having first had a quantity of wigs made and stored in the royal warehouses, he published an edict compelling all his subjects to have their heads shaved. a few days after, the monarch's agents went round, offering them the perukes destined to cover their denuded polls, which they were delighted to buy at any price". it is not surprising that artemisia could not console herself for the loss of such a clever husband, and that, not satisfied with drinking his ashes dissolved in wine, she spent some of her lamented lord's ill-gotten revenue in building such a monument to his memory that it was counted one of the wonders of the world. [illustration: egyptian head-dress.] the egyptians were also partial to wigs, some of which are still preserved in the british museum. ladies wore a multitude of small plaits and jewelled head-pieces resembling peacocks and other animals, which contrasted with their dark tresses with brilliant effect; or a fillet ornamented with a lotus bud. the coiffure of a princess was remarkable for its size and the abundance of animal, vegetable, and mineral treasures with which it was adorned. in egyptian tombs and elsewhere have been discovered small wooden combs resembling the modern tooth-comb, and metal mirrors of precisely the same shape as those in use at the present day, as well as numerous other toilet appliances. [illustration: ancient grecian.] grecian sculpture affords us the opportunity of studying the different modes in favour in that country, and it is astonishing to find what a variety of methods were adopted by the belles of ancient greece for enhancing their charms. a loose knot, fastened by a clasp in the form of a grasshopper, was a favourite fashion. cauls of network, metal mitres of different designs, and simple bands, and sometimes chaplets, of flowers, all confined at different periods, the luxuriant locks of the helens, penelopes, and xantippes of ancient times. [illustration: ancient roman.] it was a common custom among heathen nations to consecrate to their gods the hair when cut off, as well as that growing on the head, and it was either consumed on the altar, deposited in temples, or hung upon the trees. a famous instance of the consecration of hair is that of berenice, the wife of ptolemy evergetes. it is related that when the king went on his expedition to syria, she, solicitous for his safety, made a vow to consecrate her hair (which was remarkable for its fineness and beauty) to venus, if he returned to her. when her husband came back she kept her word, and offered her hair in the temple of cyprus. this was afterwards missing, when a report was spread that it had been turned into a constellation in the heavens, which constellation, an old writer tells us, is called _coma berenices_ (the hair of berenice) to the present day. another remarkable instance is that of nero, who, according to suetonius, cut off his first beard, put it in a casket of gold set with jewels, and consecrated it to jupiter capitolinus. [illustration: english head-dress of the th century.] the hair of the head and beard appears to have been held in great respect by most nations, and perhaps we may trace the use of human hair in spells and incantations to this fact. orientals especially treat the hair which falls from them with superstitious care, and bury it, so that no one shall use it to their prejudice. [illustration: horned head-dress of th century. _from effigy of countess of arundel in arundel church._] roman matrons generally preferred blonde hair to their own ebon tresses, and resorted to wigs and dye when nature, as they considered, had treated them unkindly. ovid rebukes a lady of his acquaintance in the plainest terms for having destroyed her hair. [illustration: steeple head-dress of th century.] "did i not tell you to leave off dyeing your hair? now you have no hair left to dye: and yet nothing was handsomer than your locks: they came down to your knees, and were so fine that you were afraid to comb them. your own hand has been the cause of the loss you deplore: you poured the poison on your own head. now germany will send you slaves' hair--a vanquished nation will supply your ornament. how many times, when you hear people praising the beauty of your hair, you will blush and say to yourself: 'it is bought ornament to which i owe my beauty, and i know not what sicambrian virgin they are admiring in me. and yet there was a time when i deserved all these compliments.'" [illustration: early tudor head-dress.] it would puzzle any _fin de siècle_ husband or brother to express his displeasure in more appropriate words than those chosen by the poet. the britons, before they mixed with other nations, were a fair-haired race, and early writers referred to their washing their auburn tresses in water boiled with lime to increase the reddish colour. boadicea is described with flowing locks which fell upon her shoulders; but after the roman invasion the hair of both men and women followed the fashion of the conquerors. [illustration: horned head-dress of edward iv.'s reign.] from planché's "history of british costume," we learn that "the female head-dress among all classes of the anglo-saxons was a long piece of linen or silk wrapped round the head and neck." it appears to have been called a head-rail, or wimple, but was dispensed with in the house, as the hair was then as cherished an ornament as at the present day. a wife described by adhelm, bishop of sherborne, who wrote in the eighth century, is said to have had "twisted locks, delicately curled by the iron;" and in the poem of "judith" the heroine is called "the maid of the creator, with twisted locks." two long plaits were worn by norman ladies, and were probably adopted by our own countrywomen after the conquest. during the middle ages feminine head-gear underwent many changes. golden nets, and linen bands closely pinned round the hair and chin, were followed by steeple-shaped erections and horned head-dresses in a variety of shapes, of which the accompanying sketches will give a better idea than any written description. during the sixteenth century matrons adopted either a pointed hood, composed of velvet or other rich fabric, often edged with fur, a close-fitting coif, or the french cap to be seen in the portraits of the unhappy mary stuart. those who were unmarried had their hair simply braided and embellished with knots of ribbon, strings of pearls, or nature's most beautiful adornment for the maiden--sweet-scented flowers. [illustration: elizabethan head-dress.] the auburn tresses of her gracious majesty queen elizabeth, were always _bien coiffée_, if we may judge from her various portraits. she scorned the hoods, lace caps, and pointed coifs, worn by her contemporaries, and adopted a miniature crown or jaunty hat of velvet, elaborately jewelled. her fair complexion and light hair were thrown into relief by ruffles of lace, and this delicate fabric was stretched over fine wire frames, which met at the back, and remotely suggested the fragile wings of the butterfly, or the nimbus of a saint, neither of which ornaments was particularly appropriate to the lady in question. the front hair was turned over a cushion, or dressed in stiff sausage-like curls, pinned close to the head, and was adorned with strings and stars of flashing gems and a pendant resting on the forehead. [illustration: a beauty of the court of charles ii.] that splendid historian, stubbs, who has left us such minute particulars of the fashions of his time, quaintly describes the coiffure of the ladies of the court. he states: "it must be curled, frizzled, crisped, laid out in wreaths and borders from one ear to the other, and lest it should fall down, must be underpropped with forkes and weirs, and ornamented with gold or silver curiously wrought. such gewgaws, which being unskilful in woman's tearms, i cannot easily recount. then upon the toppes of their stately turrets, stand their other capital ornaments: a french hood, hatte, cappe, kircher and suchlike, whereof some be of velvet, some of this fashion and some of that. cauls made of netwire, that the cloth of gold, silver, or tinsel, with which their hair was sometimes covered, might be seen through; and lattice caps with three horns or corners, like the forked caps of popish priests." the harleian mss., no. , written in the middle of elizabeth's reign, refers to an ordinance for the reformation of gentlewomen's head-dress, and says: "none shall wear an ermine or lattice bonnet unless she be a gentlewoman born, having arms." this latter phrase, we may conclude, refers to armorial bearings, not to physical development. the wearing of false hair and periwigs was left to the sterner sex for some years after the restoration of the house of stuart, and women were satisfied with well-brushed ringlets escaping from a bandeau of pearls, or beautified by a single flower. the hair was often arranged in small, flat curls on the forehead, as in the sketch of a beauty of the court of charles ii.; and this fashion had a softening effect on the face, and was known as the "sevigné style." [illustration: end of th century.] dutch fashions naturally prevailed in the court of william and mary, and this queen is represented with a high muslin cap, adorned with a series of upright frills, edged with lace, and long lappets falling on the shoulders. farquhar, in his comedy "love and the bottle," alludes to the "high top-knots," and swift, to the "pinners edged with colberteen," as the lace streamers were called. about this period the hair was once again rolled back from the face, and assumed enormous dimensions, so much so, that in some cases it was found necessary to make doorways broader and higher than they had hitherto been, to allow fashionably-dressed ladies to pass through without displacing the elaborate erections they carried. stuffed with horsehair, clotted with pomade and powder, and decked with every conceivable ornament, from a miniature man-of-war in full sail, to a cooing dove with outspread wings, presumably sitting on its nest, or a basket of flowers wreathed with ribbons. naturally, the aid of the barber was called in, as ladies were incapable of constructing and manipulating such a mass of tangled locks. we may imagine, on the score of expense and for other reasons, the hair was not dressed so frequently as cleanliness demanded, for in a book on costume a hairdresser is described as asking one of his customers how long it was since her hair had been opened and repaired. on her replying, "nine weeks," he mildly suggested that that was as long as a head could well go in summer, "and, therefore, it was proper to deliver it now, as it began to be a little _hazarde_." various anecdotes of this nature make us feel that personal hygiene was a matter of secondary importance to our ancestors. planché, in his work on british costume, informs us that powder maintained its ground till , when it was discarded by her majesty queen charlotte, consort of george iii., and the princesses. [illustration: fashionable coiffure of an elderly lady in the th century.] [illustration: fashionable head-dresses in the times of the georges.] varied, indeed, have been the fashions of the th century, the close of which is fast approaching. only a few of the styles adopted can be briefly touched upon, and, naturally, those will be selected which form the greatest contrast to each other. the belle of was distinguished by upstanding bows of plain or plaited hair, arranged on the crown of the head, and the front was generally in bands or short ringlets, held in place by tortoise-shell side-combs. the simplicity of this coiffure was compensated for by the enormous size of the hats and bonnets generally worn with it. these had wide and curiously-shaped brims, over which was stretched or gathered silk, satin, aerophane, or similar materials. garlands and bunches of flowers and feathers were used in profusion, and bows and strings of gauze ribbon floated in the wind. in this bewitching costume were our grandmothers wooed and won by suitors who evidently, from the impassioned love letters still in existence, believed them to be perfect types of loveliness. towards the middle of queen victoria's reign, the hair was dressed in a simple knot, and the front arranged in ringlets, which fell gracefully on the chest and shoulders. even youthful married ladies, in the privacy of their homes and for morning dress, were expected, by one of those potent but unwritten laws of the fickle goddess fashion, to wear muslin or net caps, with lace borders, embellished with ribbons. [illustration: .] [illustration: .] [illustration: bird's-nest chignon, .] [illustration: present day, .] the labours of hercules would be mere child's play compared to giving a faithful record of the chameleon-like changes which have affected that kaleidoscope, public taste, during the last forty years, and a very limited study of this fascinating subject at once convinces us that, whatever peculiarities may appear, they are certain to be revivals or modifications of styles favoured by our more or less remote ancestors. in loomed upon us that ghastly horror the chignon, which bore a faint resemblance to the exaggerated coiffures of the th century. upon this monstrous edifice, with its seductive alexandra curl, were tilted bonnets so minute that they were almost invisible in the mountains of hair that surrounded them. these were replaced by hats _à la chinois_, like shallow plates; while for winter wear, others of fur or feathers were introduced, with an animal's head fixed firmly on the brow of the wearer, and resembling nothing so much as the fox foot-warmer, with which ladies now keep their pedal extremities at a proper temperature when enjoying an airing. besides these, there were pinched canoes turned keel uppermost, and flexible mushrooms, which flapped and caught the wind till it was necessary to attach a string to the edge, to keep them snug and taut; such hats as leech has immortalised in his sketches. turbans and facsimiles of the delicious but indigestible pork-pie, gainsborough, rousby, and langtry hats, all named after styles worn by their respective namesakes; and hats made of straw, leghorn, crinoline, lace, satin, and of silver and gold tissue, of every shape and size that fancy could devise, or the heart of the most exacting woman of fashion could desire. the hair beneath was dressed like the frizzy mop illustrated, in plaited wedges flowing like a pendant hump half-way down the back, or in a cascade of curls reaching from the crown of the head to the waist. these were followed by gigantic rolls at the back of the skull, grecian knots, varying from the dimensions of a door handle to those of a cottage loaf, and latterly by that hideous monstrosity, the "bun." another turn of the wheel of fashion has given us a simple mode of dressing the hair, which is well adapted to the average english head, and which is fully explained by the accompanying sketch. it may be taken as a safe rule, when the forehead is low and face small, that the hair may be drawn back with advantage, but a long face is generally improved by arranging the hair in soft curls on the forehead, and by waving it slightly at the sides, which adds to the apparent width of the countenance. but whatever style is in fashion, it is sure to have its admirers, for has not pope left on record: "fair tresses man's imperial race ensnare, and beauty draws us by a single hair." chapter iii. gloves. "gloves as sweet as damask roses."--_shakespeare._ "see how she leans her cheek upon her hand. o, that i were a glove upon that hand, that i might touch that cheek." --_romeo and juliet._ the glove as an article of dress is of great antiquity, and among the fossils of the cave-dwellers of pre-historic times, which have been recently discovered in france, belgium, and switzerland, there is ample proof of its existence. probably the first gloves were formed of skins, sewn with bone needles, and were long enough to reach above the elbow. [illustration: glove of henry vi] xenophon, speaking of the persians, gives as an instance of their effeminacy "that they not only covered their head and feet, but guarded their hands from cold by thick gloves." homer, describing laërtes at work in his garden, represents him with gloves on his hands to protect them from thorns. pliny the younger, in speaking of his uncle's visit to vesuvius, states that his secretary sat by ready to write down anything that was remarkable, and had gloves on his hands that the coldness of the weather need not impede his work. varro, an ancient writer says:--"olives gathered with the naked hand are preferable to those plucked in gloves;" and atheneus speaks of a glutton who wore gloves at table so that he might handle the meat while hot and devour more than the others present. that the anglo-saxons wore gloves we gather from their being mentioned in an old romance of the seventh century known as the "poem of beowulf," and according to the laws of ethelred the unready, five pairs of gloves formed part of the duty paid to that prince by certain german merchants. in planché's "history of british costume," an anglo-saxon lady appears to be wearing a glove with a separate division for the thumb but without fingers, and exactly resembling an infant's glove of the present day. in edward iv. forbade the importation of foreign gloves to england, a law which remained in force till . [illustration: hawking-glove of henry viii.] in the early christian church gloves played an important part. in a.d. charlemagne granted an unlimited right of hunting to the abbot and monks of sithin, so that the skins of the deer they killed could be used in the manufacture of gloves, girdles, and covers of books. in some cases it was commanded that the clergy should wear gloves in administering the sacrament, and a writer in the "antiquary" states:--"it was always looked upon as decorous for the laity to take off their gloves in church where ecclesiastics alone might wear them. it was perhaps regarded as a proof of clean hands, for to this day persons sworn in our law courts are compelled to remove their gloves." in the ancient consecration service for the bishops of the church, a blessing was invoked on the gloves they wore. those of william of wykeham preserved at new college, oxford, are adorned with the sacred monogram in red silk, and ecclesiastical gloves were often lavishly decorated with embroidery and jewels, and were bequeathed by will with other valuables. [illustration: glove of mary queen of scots] formerly judges were forbidden to wear gloves when engaged in their official duties, but are no longer bound by this restriction, and receive as a memorial of a maiden assize (that is, when there are no prisoners to be tried) a pair of white kid gloves from the sheriff, and during the time fairs were held their duration was marked by hanging a glove outside the town hall. as long as it remained there all persons in the place were exempt from arrest, but directly it was removed it was the signal for closing the fair, and the privilege was at an end. throwing down a glove was regarded as a challenge to combat, and this curious old custom is still retained in the english coronation ceremony. kings were also invested with authority by the delivery of a glove. as _un gage d'amour_ it has for centuries been esteemed, and in the days of chivalry it was usual for knights to wear their ladies' gloves in their helmets, as a talisman of success in arms. in old records we also meet with the term "glove money," a sum paid to servants with which they were to provide this portion of their livery, and till quite recently it was the custom to present those who attended weddings and funerals with gloves as a souvenir. shakespeare often mentions gloves, and some assert that he was the son of a glover. a pair which belonged to the dramatist is still preserved. they are of brown leather, ornamented with a stamped pattern, and are edged with gold fringe. they were presented by the actor garrick to the mayor and corporation of stratford-on-avon at the shakespearian commemoration in . [illustration: glove of queen elizabeth.] many royal gloves have found a place in private collections. henry vi.'s glove has a gauntlet, is made of tanned leather, and is lined with deer-skin, and the hawking glove of henry viii. is another interesting relic of a bygone age. the king kept his hawks at charing cross, and in the inventories taken after this monarch's death we read of "three payre of hawkes' gloves, with two lined with velvet;" and again at hampton court there were "seven hawkes' gloves embroidered." the hawking glove, of which an illustration is given, may be seen in the ashmolean museum. it is of a simple character, evidently intended for use rather than ornament. gloves were not generally worn by women till after the reformation; but during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries their use gradually extended to the middle classes. queen elizabeth's glove may be seen at the bodleian library, oxford, and is believed to have been worn at the visit of the virgin queen to the university in . it is fringed with gold, and is nearly half a yard in length; it is made of white leather worked with gold thread, and the cuff is lined with drab silk. mary queen of scots' glove in the saffron walden museum is of light buff leather, wrought with silver wire and silk of different colours. it is lined with crimson satin, edged with gold lace enriched with sequins, and the opening is connected with bands of satin finished with lace insertion. this glove was presented on the morning of her execution to a member of the dayrell family, who was in attendance at fotheringay castle. in happier days queen mary gave an exquisitely embroidered pair of gloves, with a design in which angels' heads and flowers appear--her own work--to her husband, lord darnley; and the gloves generally of the tudor period were more ornate than those which adorn beauty's hands on the eve of the nineteenth century, and were, in most cases, wrought with the needle. though the history of gloves savours of romance, there is every reason to believe that they have sometimes been used with sinister motives, as a large trade was done at one time in poisoned gloves, delicately perfumed, to conceal their deadly purpose. [illustration: glove of james i.] some gloves which were the property of james i. are of brown leather lined with white, and the seams are sewn with silk and gold thread. the embroidery is in gold and silver thread on crimson satin, with a lining of red silk. they are finished with gold fringe, and have three loops at the side. a glove of chaste design, worn by charles i. on the scaffold is made of cream-coloured kid, the gauntlet embroidered with silver and edged with silver fringe. queen anne, on the other hand, wore highly-decorated gloves of suede kid, with raised silken flowers on the gauntlet, and three loops of rose-coloured ribbon, to allow them to be slipped over the hands. they are further enriched with gold lace and embroidery. a yellow suede court glove of george iv. gives the impression that the first gentleman of europe had a fist of tremendous proportions. her majesty queen victoria generally wears black kid gloves, except for court functions, when white glacé kid gloves are invariably used. her royal highness the princess of wales has a delicately-formed hand with tapering fingers, and her size is six and a-half. her royal highness adapts her gloves to the occasion and toilette, and is always _bien ganté_. the first napoleon gave an impetus to this branch of industry by insisting on gentlemen wearing gloves on state occasions and at festive gatherings, and the fashion spread through the countries of europe with astonishing rapidity. chapter iv. curious foot-gear. "a tasteful slipper is my soul's delight." --_milman's "fazio."_ a well-shaped foot has been considered from the earliest times one of nature's kindest gifts, and sober history and fairy lore have combined to give us many interesting particulars respecting this portion of the human anatomy. the similarity of the foot-gear of both sexes makes it impossible to treat the matter separately, and as the subject is practically inexhaustible, i propose only to illustrate the most curious and notable examples. one of the finest collection of shoes in the world is that at the cluny museum, paris, formed by the eminent french engraver, the late jules jacquemart. this was enlarged by the purchase of the collection of baron schvitter. the queen of italy has also acquired a large number of historical boots and shoes; and to mr. joseph box, another enthusiastic collector, i am indebted for some of the drawings used for illustrating this article. a quaint story is told in a rare book, entitled "the delightful, princely, and entertaining history of the gentle craft of crispin, the patron saint of shoe makers, and his brother crispianus." according to this authority, they were the two sons of the king of logia (kent), and lived in the city of durovenum, otherwise canterbury, or the court of the kentish men. having embraced christianity, during the roman invasion, they were in considerable danger, and at their mother's instigation, to conceal their identity, adopted humble attire, and devoted themselves to the modest craft of shoemaking, under the auspices of a shoemaker at faversham, to whom they bound themselves for seven years. this industrious citizen appears to have received the appointment of shoemaker to the court of maximinus, whose daughter ursula fell in love with crispin. after removing the usual obstacles (which, even in those remote times, seem to have obstructed the paths of those who had fallen under the sway of cupid), this energetic lady engaged the services of a neighbouring friar, and cut the gordian knot by marrying her faithful adorer. when primitive man first conceived the idea of producing some contrivance to defend himself from cold, sharp stones, or the heated sand of the desert, his first effort was to fasten to the bottom of his feet soles of bark, wood, or raw hide, which were followed, in due course, by more elaborately made sandals of tanned leather. these were fastened in various ways, but generally by two leathern straps, one round the instep, while the other passed between the first and second toes. egyptian sandals were sometimes prolonged to a sharp point, and occasionally were made of papyrus, or some flexible material; but the commoner kinds were, as a rule, of wood or leather. often they had painted upon them the effigy of the wearer's enemy, who was thus literally trodden underfoot. owing to their proximity, the habits and customs of the egyptians and jews were in many respects similar. the same hebrew word denotes both a sandal and a shoe; and it has been concluded that shoes were probably confined to the upper classes, while sandals were used by those compelled to work; and slaves went barefoot. it will be seen from the sketches of grecian and roman shoes that they eventually became an elaborate article of dress, bound to the foot and leg with lacings, and ornamented in different ways. the senators had boots of black leather, with a crest of gold or silver on the top of the foot; and soldiers wore iron shoes, heavily spiked, in a similar manner to those now used for cricket, so as to give the wearers a better hold when scaling walls in the attack of fortified places. an iron boot was also used for torturing christians. as an instance of the luxury so characteristic of the age, it is stated that roman soldiers often had the spikes on their shoes made of gold. according to the testimony of seneca, julius cæsar wore shoes of the precious metal, a fashion emulated by cardinal wolsey many centuries after; and severus was fond of covering his with jewels, to attract the attention of the people as he walked through the streets. the emperor aurelian forbade men to wear red, yellow, white, or green shoes, reserving these colours for women; and different shapes were prescribed by legal enactments to be worn for the easy distinguishment of various trades and professions. in the reign of domitian, the stalls of shoemakers in the public streets were so numerous as to necessitate an edict for their removal. [illustration: foot-gear of different periods.] our own ancestors, the anglo-saxons, wore shoes of raw cow-hide, reaching to the ankles; and the hair turned outward. those used by ecclesiastics were a kind of sandal fastened with bands of leather round the instep. the norman half-boots had soles of wood, while the uppers were of a more pliable material. those worn by the crusaders were of chain, and later of plate armour. very pointed toes were in fashion during the middle ages, and these were carried to such a ridiculous length that the dignitaries of the church considered it necessary to preach against the practice. however, this did not result in its abolition, for we find the courtiers of the day improved upon the prevailing mode by stuffing their shoes, and twisting them into the shape of a ram's horn; the point of which was attached to the knee by a chain. the common people were permitted by law to wear "the pykes on their shoon" half-a-foot, rich citizens a foot, while nobles and princes had theirs two-and-a-half feet long. during the plantagenet period it was usual to wear two shoes of different colours, and they were often slashed on the upper surface, to show the bright hose beneath. these were superseded by a large, padded shoe, gored over the foot with coloured material, a fashion imported from italy, and exaggerated as much as the pointed shoe had been. buskins were high boots, made of splendid tissue, and worn by the nobility and gentry during the middle ages, generally on occasions of state. they were also largely adopted by players of tragedy. they covered the knee, and were tied just below. the sock, or low shoe, on the other hand, was the emblem of comedy. one of the greatest follies ever introduced was the chopine, a sort of stilt which increased the height of the wearer. these were first used in persia, but appeared in venice about the sixteenth century, and their use was encouraged by jealous husbands in the hope of keeping their wives at home. this desire, however, was not realised, as the ladies went out as usual, and required rather more support than hitherto. chopines were very ornate, and the length determined the rank of the wearer, the noblest dames having them half-a-yard high. shakespeare refers to them when he makes hamlet say:--"your ladyship is nearer heaven than when i saw you last by the altitude of a chopine." he also alludes to the general use of shoes for the left and right foot, when he speaks of a man:--- "standing in slippers which his nimble haste had falsely thrust upon contrary feet." [illustration: greek and roman shoes.] the exercise of the gentle craft of shoemaking was for a long time carried on in monastic institutions, and increased the revenues of the clergy. richard, the first abbot of st. albans, objected to canons and priests of his era associating themselves with tanners and shoemakers, not one of whom, in his opinion, ought to be made a bishop or an abbot. it is said, however, that pope john, elected in , was the son of a shoemaker at cahors; and in the description of absalom, the parish clerk, chaucer tells us, "the upper leathers of his shoes were carved to resemble the windows of st. paul's cathedral," which inclines one to believe in their priestly origin. [illustration: anglo-saxon and norman shoes.] [illustration: mediÆval shoes.] from various sources, we have descriptions of royal shoes. richard c[oe]ur de lion had his boots striped with gold; those of his brother john were spotted with gold in circles. henry iii. had his boots chequered with golden lines, and every square enriched with a lion. in the splendid court of edward iii., the royal shoes were elaborately embroidered. the coronation shoes of richard iii. were covered with crimson tissue cloth of gold. henry viii. is described as wearing square-toed shoes, which were slashed with coloured silk, and exposed a portion of the foot. some worn by his daughter, queen elizabeth, of brocaded silk, are remarkably clumsy in appearance, and have lappets which fasten over the instep. they form a striking contrast to those used by the unfortunate mary queen of scots (now in the possession of sir james william drummond), which are of kid, embroidered with coloured silks; the toes are somewhat squarer, but in other respects resemble those in fashion at the present day. [illustration: queen elizabeth's boots.] [illustration: shoe of mary queen of scots.] [illustration: shoe worn by charles i.] [illustration: a. chopine; b, buskin; c, peaked shoe; d, tudor shoe.] [illustration: military boots and spurs used at the battle of naseby.] in speaking of curious foot-gear, the under covering of the leg and pedal extremities must be briefly referred to. ancient works on costume frequently mention hose, socks, and stockings, which were made of woollen cloth, leather, or linen, and held in place by cross-bands of the material twisted to a little below the knee, either in close rolls, like the hay-bands of the modern ostler, or crossing each other sandal-wise, as they are now worn in some districts of europe, particularly in russia and spain. cloth stockings, embroidered with gold, are among the articles of dress ordered by henry iii. for his sister isabel; and of a woman mentioned in the "canterbury tales," it is said: "hire hosen weren of fine scarlet redde, ful streite yteyed (tied), and shoon full moist (supple) and newe." [illustration: ancient shoes--a, b, c, d, e, egyptian; f, persian; g, h, greek; i, j, k, l, phrygian and dacian.] in the reign of henry vii. clocks on stockings are discernible; and the poet laureate of this king, describing the dress of the hostess of an inn, gives an indication of how boots were cleaned: "she hobbles as she goes, with her blanket hose, her shoone smeared with _tallow_." it is supposed that hose or stockings of silk were unknown in this country before the middle of the th century. a pair of spanish silk hose was presented by sir thomas gresham to edward vi., his father never having worn any but those made of cloth. in the reign of good queen bess, nether socks or stockings were of silk, jarnsey, worsted crewel, or the finest yarn, thread, or cloth, and were of all colours, "cunningly knit and curiously indented in every point, with querks, clocks, open seams, and everything else accordingly." planché states, in the third year of elizabeth, mistress montague, the queen's silk-woman, presented her majesty with a pair of black silk knit stockings, made in england; and from that time she wore no others, in the laudable desire to encourage their home manufacture by her own example. the queen's patronage, and the invention, in , of a weaving frame, by william lee, master of arts, and fellow of st. john's college, cambridge, gave a great impetus tus to the stocking trade, which has been carried on with considerable success ever since, particularly in the midland counties of england. spurs can be traced back to the anglo-saxon period, which is quite far enough for this purpose. they had no rowels, but were made with a simple point like a goad, and were fastened with leathers. early in the th century spurs were screwed on to a steel shoe, instead of being fastened with straps. they were long in the neck, and the spikes of the rowels of formidable dimensions. from a sketch of a spur worn at the battle of naseby, in the reign of charles i., it will be seen that, as progress was made in armour and military gear, considerable attention was paid to this portion of the soldier's outfit; indeed, it was more elaborate in design than is now considered necessary. from a very early period spurs have been used by both sexes. a curious custom was in vogue at the beginning of the present century for ladies to make their own indoor shoes. this fashion was inaugurated by queen charlotte, who was particularly deft in handling a beautiful set of shoemaker's tools, mounted in silver, with ivory handles. tradesmen bitterly complained that worktables in boudoirs were strewn with the implements of their craft; but, like many other feminine fads, it soon passed away. about this period clogs were also used. these were made of wood, and served as a protection to shoes out of doors. a similar contrivance, with the addition of an iron ring, leather strap and toe-cap, is still sometimes worn by farm servants, and is called a patten. another form of clog, consisting of a laced leather boot with wooden sole, is extensively used by the working classes in the north of england, and the sabot, a wooden shoe, is the ordinary foot-gear of peasants on the continent. it is well known that chinese women of high rank deform their feet by compressing them in such a manner that it is afterwards almost impossible to walk; and in davis' interesting description of the empire of china, he relates that whenever a judge of unusual integrity resigns his post, the people accompany him from his home to the gates of the city, where his boots are drawn off with great ceremony, and are afterwards preserved in the hall of justice. in japan a peculiar wooden sandal, having a separate compartment for the great toe, is in common use. straw slippers are also worn, and a traveller starting on a journey will strap a supply on his back, so that he may have new shoes in case of need. they are lefts and rights, and only cost a halfpenny the pair. here one never finds those deformities of the feet so common in china, and even in our own country. a graceful carriage depends so much upon the shoes worn. heavy and stiff ones oblige the wearer to plant the foot solidly at every step. if the toes are very pointed it is at the sacrifice of elasticity, and if the heels are too high the muscles in the ball of the foot are little used. orientals indicate reverence by uncovering their feet, and do so on all occasions when western nations would remove their hats. their heads, being generally shaven, are always covered, and are surmounted by a head-dress which could not be replaced without considerable trouble; while for the feet they have loose slippers, with a single sole, made of coloured morocco or embroidered silk, which are easily thrown off. few things inspire them with greater disgust than for anyone to enter their rooms with shoes on. they think such conduct an insult to themselves and a pollution to their apartment; and it is considered the height of irreverence to enter a church, mosque, or a temple without removing them. even classical heathenism affords instances of this usage. the roman women were obliged to go barefoot in the temple of vesta; the same rule existed in that of diana, at crete; and those who prayed in the temple of jupiter also followed this custom. in the east, the public removal of the sandal or shoe, and the giving it to another, accompanied by certain words, signifies a transfer of authority or relinquishing possession. we are told in the case of ruth and boaz, when her kinsman gave up his right to marry her, in favour of her second husband, "he drew off his shoe." among the bedouins, when a man permits his cousin to marry another, or divorces his runaway spouse, he generally says, "she was my slipper; i have cast her off." again, when shoes are left at the door of an apartment, they denote that the master or mistress is engaged, and even a husband does not venture into a wife's room while he sees the slippers on the threshold. the idea is not altogether unknown among ourselves, as it is expressed in the homely proverb, "to stand in another man's shoes;" or when we speak of coming into a future inheritance as stepping into a "dead man's shoe." also in flinging the slipper after a departing bride, signifying that the father transfers his authority to the husband. chapter v. bridal costume. [illustration: marriage procession of a bride in lebanon.] certain curious customs have been associated with the ordinance of marriage from a very early period, and among others may be mentioned the union of near relations in barbaric or semi-barbaric tribes; the providing of husbands and wives for a family according to seniority (so that the younger members had to possess their souls in patience till the elder ones were disposed of); the paying of an equivalent for the bride's services to her father in money or kind; and festivities often lasting over several days to celebrate the nuptials. the rabbins acquaint us with the fact that seven days' feasting was an indispensable obligation on all married men, and that the bride was not consigned to her husband until after the days of feasting had expired. they were generally spent in the house of the woman's father, after which she was conducted in great state to her husband's home. when the bride was a widow, the festivities only lasted for three days. customs in the east are perpetuated from one generation to another, and we now find among the inhabitants of the orient the same mode of life as was adopted by the patriarchs of old. the description of the wooing of isaac and rebekah, for example, so graphically told in genesis, differs in few respects from that of a young couple of the same rank in the present day. handsome presents, consisting of jewels, apparel, &c., are presented to the woman and her family, and form part of her dower in case of divorce. rich shawls, fine dresses, personal ornaments, money, and a complete outfit of domestic utensils are always included in such a gift. among some of the arab tribes the dower received on such occasions, and called the "five articles," consists of a carpet, a silver nose ring, a silver neck chain, silver bracelets, and a camel bag. matrimonial overtures are generally made by the parents of the contracting parties in persia, but after all has been concluded, the bride-elect has nominally the power, though it is seldom exercised, of expressing her dissent before the connection receives its final sanction. among many bedouin tribes the woman is not suffered to know until the betrothing ceremonies announce it to her who is to be her husband, and then it is too late to negative the contract, but she is permitted to withdraw from her husband's tent the day after her marriage, and to return to her father; in which case she is formally divorced, and is henceforward regarded as a widow. on the value of her ornaments the eastern bride bases her claim to consideration; and though the arab, as a rule, cares little for his own dress, he decks his wife as richly as possible, that honour may be reflected upon himself and his circumstances. the leg ornaments and bracelets are often enormously thick, and have no fastenings, but open and compress by their own elasticity. it is not unusual to wear several on the same arm, reaching to the elbow. they form a woman's sole wealth, and are not treasured up for special occasions, as is usual among western nations, but are used as part of of the daily costume. various materials are employed in their manufacture; gold is necessarily rare, silver less so, while others are composed of amber, coral, mother-of-pearl, and beads. [illustration: ancient egyptian bridal costume.] [illustration: festivities at an eastern marriage.] we are told, when rebekah approached her future home and saw a man walking in the distance, she evinced a curiosity, natural under the circumstances, and inquired about him; and on discovering that it was isaac, "she took a veil and covered herself." it is still almost universal in the east for a woman, whose face is not concealed on other occasions, to envelop her head and body in an ample veil before she is conducted to her husband, and it is considered an indispensable part of the bridal costume. the details of the home coming are modified by the local usages and religions of the different countries. in syria, persia, and india, the bridegroom, in person, brings home the bride; in some other countries this duty devolves on a near relative, and he remains at home to receive the lady on her arrival. from various sources, but particularly from indications in scripture, we may gather that the jews employed either of these methods, according to circumstances. again, in egypt the bridegroom goes to the mosque when his bride is expected, and returns home in procession after she has arrived. in western asia the procession usually walks, if the bride's future house is at no great distance in the same town. in such cases she is often partially covered by a canopy, and in central and eastern asia it is the rule for her to be mounted on a mare, mule, ass, or camel, unless she is carried in a palanquin. much, of course, depends on the social position of those married. music attends such processions, and often dancing; the jews certainly had the former, and some think the latter also, at least, in the time of our saviour. [illustration: a greek bridesmaid.] in halhed's translation of the gentoo laws, and in mr. roberts's "oriental illustrations," reference is made to the custom of marrying the elder sister first, and the same usage is observed with regard to the brothers. when, in india, the elder daughter happens to be blind, deaf, dumb, or deformed, this formality is dispensed with; and there have been cases when a man, wishing to obtain a younger daughter, has used every means in his power to promote the settlement of his future sister-in-law, so as to forward his own nuptials. fathers, too, will sometimes exert their powers to compass the marriage of the elder daughter, when a very advantageous offer is made for the younger one. it is generally believed that psalm xlv., commonly known as "the song of loves," was composed on the occasion of solomon's marriage--probably to pharaoh's daughter; and here we find the egyptian bride's dress described as "all glorious within and wrought of gold, a raiment of needlework." both expressions refer to the same dress, and imply that the garment was embroidered with figures worked with threads of gold. the egyptians were famous for their embroideries, and some mummies have been found wrapped up in clothing curiously ornamented with gold lace. at the present day, both in egypt and western asia, it is usual for ladies of the highest rank to employ much of their time in working with the needle linen and cotton tissues in gold and silver thread and silk of different colours. [illustration: modern greek bridal costume.] the use of nuptial crowns is of great antiquity. among the greeks and romans they wore chaplets of flowers and leaves, and the modern greeks retain this custom, employing such chaplets, decorated with ribbons and lace. modern jews do not use crowns in their marriage ceremonies, and they inform us that they have been discontinued since the last siege of jerusalem by the romans. the information which gemara gives on this subject is briefly that the crown of the bridegroom was of gold and silver, or else a chaplet of roses, myrtle, or olives, and that the bride's crown was of the precious metals. there is also some mention of a crown made of salt and sulphur, worn by the bridegroom, the salt transparent as crystal, the figures being represented thereon in sulphur. crowns play an important part in the nuptial ceremonies of the greek church; they are also still used by scandinavian brides. the ring in former days did not occupy the prominent position it does now, but was given, with other presents, to mark the completion of the contract. its form is a symbol of eternity, and signifies the intention of both parties to keep the solemn covenant of which it is a pledge, or, as the saxons called it, a "wed," from which we derive the term wedding. the jews have a law which proclaims that the nuptial ring shall be of certain value, and must not be obtained by credit or gift. formerly they were of large size and elaborate workmanship, but now the ordinary plain gold hoop is used. [illustration: a, jewish wedding ring, german, th century; b, modern italian; c, italian, th century; d, venetian, th century; e, english, ; f, english bronze betrothal ring, th century.] a wedding ring of the shakespearian era has a portrait of lucretia holding the dagger, the reverse side of the circle being formed by two clasped hands. this is a very common shape, and is shown in the illustration of the english wedding-ring e, dated , where white enamel fingers support a rose diamond. the modern italian peasant wedding-ring b is of gold in raised bosses, while c is of silver; f, bearing initials on vezet, is of bronze. a is a handsome jewish wedding-ring, bearing the ark, and d also has a hebrew inscription. the gimmal betrothal ring was formerly a favourite pattern, and consisted of three circlets attached to a spring or pivot, and could be closed so as to appear like one solid ring. it was customary to break these asunder at the betrothal, the man and woman taking the upper and lower ones, and the witness the intermediate ring. when the marriage took place these were joined together and used at the ceremony. during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries it was a common practice to engrave these emblems of affection with some appropriate motto. it was from pagan rome that european nations derive the wedding-ring, as they were used in their betrothals long before there is any trace of them elsewhere. [illustration: an eastern bride.] in describing the bridal costumes of different nations, it should be distinctly borne in mind that a large majority of the upper classes wear on such occasions the traditional white satin and orange blossoms with which we are all familiar. many, however, prefer the picturesque national costume associated with the land of their birth, and it has been my principal object, in selecting the illustrations, to make them as typical as possible. [illustration: garment formerly worn by greek brides. (_from south kensington museum_)] the greek marriage service is full of symbol, and the sketch gives a good idea of the bridal costume. the bridesmaid is attired in a gold embroidered jacket, a skirt of brilliant colouring, and the crimson fez--the usual head-gear of a greek maiden. she is depicted scattering corn, an ancient rite always performed at the conclusion of the ceremony. as she gracefully sways backwards and forwards, to the accompaniment of the jingling coins, which do double service as dowry and trimming, it is a pose and dress at once graceful and free. formerly a wedding garment was often passed down from mother to daughter, and such an example is given in the soft yellow silk robe, lined with white and enriched with elaborate embroidery. tiny stars in delicate shades of red, blue, and green, divided by black lines form the design and proclaim the industry and skill of the worker. these robes, however, have not been used in greece since the beginning of the seventeenth century. in japan, the beautiful land of the lily and chrysanthemum, the bride usually takes little more to her husband's home than her trousseau, which is ample enough, as a rule, to satisfy even a woman's passion for dress. the nuptials take place in the evening, and the bride is garbed in virgin white robes, figured with a lozenge design. these garments are the gift of the bridegroom, and in them she passes from the home of her girlhood to that of her husband. the household gods of both families are assembled before an altar decked with flowers and covered with offerings. near stands a large table, with a dwarf cedar; it also holds the japanese adam and eve, and the mystic turtle and stork. the two special attendants of bride and bridegroom are called butterflies, and in their dress and colouring rival these beautiful insects, which in this country are the symbol of conjugal felicity. the most solemn part of the marriage ceremony is the scene of the two-mouthed vase. at a signal, one butterfly fills the vase, and the other offers it to the kneeling couple, the husband drinking first, and afterwards the wife. this draught signifies that henceforward they are to partake equally of the bitters and sweets of the coming years. rice is thrown from either side, so as to mingle, and the wicks of two candles are placed together, to symbolize the joining of body and soul. the marriage processions of other oriental nations have already been referred to, and in india it is customary to perform the ceremony under a species of canopy richly ornamented and lighted by lamps. the bride wears, in addition to the native costume, a curious veil composed of strings of gold beads and tassels. in hindu marriages the sacred fire or _oman_ (which is constantly renewed by throwing upon it scented oils, sandalwood, incense, and other aromatic perfumes) is a prominent feature, and the union of a couple is consecrated by sprinkling a handful of saffron, mixed with rice flour, on their shoulders. finally, the husband presents his wife with a little golden image called _talee_, a substitute for the wedding ring, and worn by indian women as their symbol of matrimony. a missionary thus describes a buddhist marriage:--"the bride, loaded with jewellery, accompanied by women richly attired, entered the room, and sat down with the bridegroom on the floor. a number of candles were then lighted, and the company saluted and congratulated the happy couple, and expressed their kind wishes by blowing smoke towards them, while a band of string instruments discoursed sweet music. two cushions were placed before the bridegroom, on which a sword was laid, and food was also near them. next the hands of each were bound together, then the two to each other with silken threads. this act was performed by the nearest relative present, and completed the ceremony." brief, indeed, are the forms of marriage indulged in by the people of borneo. each of the contracting parties chews a betel nut; an elderly woman mutters some sort of incantation, and brings the heads of bride and bridegroom in close contact, after which they are declared man and wife, and are no longer regarded as twain, but one flesh. the cherokee form of marriage is perhaps the most simple. the two join hands over a running stream, emblematic of the wish that their future lives, hopes, and aspirations, should flow on in the same channel. a peculiar custom of the lascars is the putting of a ring on the great toe when they marry. mrs. bishop, who has explored tibet and studied the habits and customs of the people, informs us that polyandry is favoured by the women of that country. the heir of the land and eldest son appears to be the only member of the family who can contract a marriage in the legal sense as we understand it, but all his brothers are accepted by the wife as inferior or subordinate husbands. by this means they are kept well under the control of the superior husband, whom they regard as the "big father," and, as a matter of form, any children who may be born are accepted by him. [illustration: hindu bridegroom's procession.] thus the whole family are attached to the soil, and seem to work in concord, and the women have the satisfaction of knowing that in the average course of nature they can never become widows, and that there will always be someone to work for them and their offspring. "it is the custom for the men and women of a village to assemble when a bride enters her home with her husbands, and for each of them to present her with three rupees. the tibetan wife, far from spending these gifts on personal adornment, looks ahead, contemplating possible contingencies, and immediately hires a field, the produce of which is her own, and accumulates from year to year, so that she may not be portionless should she desire a divorce." the african tribes, of course, differ materially in their marriage customs, but some form of exchange for the services of the woman are insisted on, and often take the shape of a present of cattle to the bride's father. on the west coast, in the neighbourhood of gaboon, where slavedom is recognised, there is an understanding that a wife may be purchased for a slave bundle, valued at about £ in english money, and there appears to be no sliding scale as to youth, beauty, form, or degree. a bundle contains specimens of every article sold by a general storekeeper. the most important features of a slave bundle are a neptune, or brass pan used for making salt, which is a current article of commerce, and a piece of native cloth, manufactured by these people for dress purposes, from a species of palm which grows on the river banks in great luxuriance. both sexes anoint themselves with palm oil and other greasy substances, and no greater compliment can be paid to an african belle than to say she looks "fat and shining." [illustration: veil of hindu bride.] [illustration: hindu marriage ceremony.] mr. hutchinson, in his interesting work, "ten years in Æthiopia," gives a quaint and amusing account of the toilet of a fernandian bridegroom: "outside a small hut, belonging to the mother of the bride expectant, i soon discovered the happy bridegroom undergoing his toilet at the hands of his future wife's sister. a profusion of tshibbu strings being fastened round his body, as well as his legs and arms, the anointing lady, having a short black pipe in her mouth, proceeded to rub him over with tola pomade. he seemed not altogether joyous at the anticipation of his approaching happiness, but turned a sulky gaze now and then on a piece of yam which he held in his hand, and which had a parrot's red feather fixed on its convex side. this was called 'ntshoba,' and is regarded as a protection against evil influences on the important day. the bride was borne down by the weight of rings and wreaths and girdles of tshibbu. tola pomatum gave her the appearance of an exhumed mummy, save her face, which was all white; not from excess of modesty, for the negro race are reported to blush blue, but from being smeared over with a white paste, the emblem of purity." what a hideous substitute for the classical wreath of orange blossoms, and what a contrast must be offered when the cosmetic peels off and displays the dusky skin upon which it is laid! according to russian law, no man can marry before he is eighteen years of age, or a woman before she is sixteen; nor after he is eighty, and she is sixty. priests are permitted to marry once. secret marriages without witnesses are regarded as invalid, and both bride and bridegroom must be baptized persons. if a russian takes a foreigner for a wife, she must bind herself in writing to bring up any children she may have in the greco-russian faith. according to an ancient custom the bridegroom presents his bride with the costume and jewellery worn at the marriage. the dowry comes from her family, and consists of a complete wardrobe, silver, linen, and household furniture of all kinds. the hair of an unmarried woman of the peasant class in russia is dressed in a single plait hanging loose upon the shoulders, and tied with ribbon. after marriage it is arranged in two braids coiled round the head, covered with a cap tied behind, or with a cotton or silk handkerchief and a little lappet of linen rests on the forehead, and is considered an inevitable symbol of marriage. marriages are performed after banns, and much of the finery used by the lower classes is hired for the occasion; and the crowns used in the russian ceremony are generally the property of the church. formerly they were worn for a week, but this practice has been discontinued. [illustration: a russian bride.] [illustration: norwegian peasant bride and bridegroom.] there are three distinct periods in the life of a norwegian woman, and each one has marked characteristics, particularly as regards dress. during girlhood, up to the time of confirmation, a solemn occasion for which there is much preparatory training, girls do not usually go from home to work, or earn their own living. among the poorer classes this ceremony takes place when they are about fifteen. their petticoats are short and their hair is arranged in two long plaits. after confirmation they are supposed to regard life from its more serious aspect, and to engage themselves with various duties, according to their station. the third stage, of course, is married life, and it should be stated that neither men nor women can enter upon the holy contract unless they can bring proof of their confirmation, and can show ample evidence of sufficient means to provide for a household. the marriage is preceded by a betrothal ceremony, when the young couple go to the church, accompanied by their friends, and exchange rings of plain gold and presents of jewellery and apparel, which must be worn on the wedding day. at her marriage the peasant bride wears the crown. it has a rim of brass to fit the head, and the upper portion is of silver and gold, sometimes embellished with precious stones. such crowns are generally heirlooms, and it is not uncommon for all the brides of one family for centuries to wear the same adornment for the head. a very usual dress on such an occasion is a plain skirt of some woollen material, with a bodice and full sleeves of snowy linen, a corselet of red and green, ornamented with bands and buckles, and a white apron trimmed with embroidery. a silver-gilt breast ornament is worn by swedish brides. the band is wrought with bosses, and depending from it are small beaten discs, and a medallion bearing the sacred initials i.h.s. the bridegroom's hat in the illustration was probably an heirloom too, from its shape and fashion. he wears a red waistcoat cut short and fastened with brass buttons, and a loose cloth coat ornamented with embroidered revers. the black small clothes show to advantage a well-shaped leg, and on the feet are low shoes. usually the festivities in connection with a peasant wedding in norway are kept up for three days, and during the time there is much feasting and merrymaking among the friends of bride and bridegroom. [illustration: ornament worn by swedish peasant bride.] [illustration: a bridegroom's toilet at fernando po.] gipsies are, as a rule, married at a very early age. a girl is generally betrothed at fourteen, and becomes a wife two years later. the marriage ceremony is performed by a priest wearing a ram's horn as a sign of office, and, as becomes a nomadic race, the four elements--fire, air, earth, and water--take a prominent position. the horn is the symbol of authority, and is often made use of in scripture. so much were rams' horns esteemed by the israelites that their priests and levites used them as trumpets in the taking of jericho; and modern jews when they confess their sins announce the ceremony by blowing a ram's horn. in ancient egypt and other parts of africa, jupiter ammon was worshipped under the figure of a ram, and to this deity one of these animals was sacrificed annually. it seems to have been an emblem of power from the remotest ages. it would therefore appear that the practice of the gipsy priest wearing a ram's horn suspended from a string round his neck at a marriage is derived from the highest antiquity, and undoubtedly points to the oriental origin of the gipsy race. various expedients have been resorted to by different rulers of sparsely populated kingdoms to encourage men to enter the married state. in ancient rome the law forbade that a bachelor should inherit any legacy whatever, and in sparta, under the rule of lycurgus, they were not permitted to have a part in the government, nor might they occupy any civil or military post. they were excluded from participation in public festivals, except on certain fixed occasions, and then the women had the right to lead them to the altars, where they were beaten with rods to the sound of scornful songs. as late as the reign of william and mary, widowers were taxed in england at the following rates:--dukes, £ s.; lower peers a smaller sum, and commoners one shilling each, if they elected to remain in a state of single blessedness. widows also, especially those of high degree and fortune, were encouraged to dip again in the matrimonial lottery, and children were betrothed at a very tender age. [illustration: an english bride.] bridesmaids in anglo-saxon times attended on the bride, and performed specified duties, particularly in the festivities which usually followed on such occasions. even during the earlier portion of the present century it was a common custom for one to accompany the bridal couple on their honeymoon; and it was also her duty to prepare and present the "benediction posset," which is referred to by herrick in "hesperides:"-- "a short sweet prayer shall be said, and now the posset shall be made with cream of lilies not of kine and maiden blush for spiced wine." the fashion of brides wearing spotless white is a comparatively modern one. from accounts of bridal gowns in bygone times, we find rich brocades, golden tissues, and coloured silks were employed for this purpose; and at the present day white is considered only appropriate to the virgin, and is absolutely dispensed with by those women who have been married before. of modern marriage customs in england there is no occasion to speak, for what woman is there among us who has not made an exhaustive and complete study of this vital matter? it may, however, comfort those who are beginning to wonder if marriage and giving in marriage is going out of fashion, to know that during the first quarter of , , persons were joined together in the british islands, an increase of per cent. over the first three months of the previous year, and per cent. over the mean rate for the same quarter for the preceding ten years. figures are incontrovertible facts, so our ears need no longer be assailed by the bitter cry of "darkest spinsterdom." chapter vi. mourning. "the air is full of farewells to the dying and mourning for the dead."--_longfellow._ [illustration: ancient jewish funeral procession.] [illustration: laying out and mourning the dead.] the signs of mourning in ancient times were by no means confined to the apparel. fasting, laceration of the flesh, throwing dust on the head, and shaving the hair, were outward and visible signs of grief, accompanied by piercing cries of the most heartrending description. it was also customary to abstain from ornaments, to rend the clothing, and to put on filthy garments of sackcloth. this fabric was, and is still in the east, made of hair, which has an irritating effect upon the skin, and was for this purpose adopted as a penitential dress by the early roman church. the covering of the head was another manifestation of sorrow--a practice indicated by the hoods worn by female mourners, and the flowing hat-bands for men, so common at funerals a few years ago. in "a history of mourning," by richard davey, from which many interesting facts on this subject may be gathered, we learn that the egyptians, over three thousand years ago, selected yellow as the colour for mourning garments. the greeks chose black as the most appropriate--a fashion followed by the romans. the women of rome had robes of black cloth, with veils of the same shade; but by a wise dispensation, young children were not compelled to adopt the symbols of woe. a year was the usual period for mourning a husband, wife, father, mother, sister, or brother; but relations who had been outlawed, imprisoned, or bankrupt, were not accorded this mark of respect. numa published certain laws for the guidance of mourners, including one forbidding women to scratch their faces, or to make an exceptional display of grief at funerals. the emperor justinian (a.d. ) also turned his attention to this subject, and regulated the expenses at funeral ceremonies, so as to secure those who remained from the double calamity of losing their friends and, at the same time, incurring heavy pecuniary liabilities on their account. provision was made for burying each person free of cost, and for protecting the survivors from various extortions. funds were appropriated for the purpose of interments, which were conducted by those appointed for the purpose. all persons were to be buried in the same manner; though those who desired to do so could, at their own cost, indulge in certain display, but this additional expense was limited. on state occasions, as, for example, on the death of an emperor or a great defeat, the whole nation assumed the mourning garb. the defeat of cannæ, the conspiracy of catalina, and the death of julius cæsar, were all considered of sufficient importance for the observance of this custom. private mourning could be broken among the romans by certain domestic events, as the birth of a son or daughter, the marriage of a child, or the return of a prisoner taken in war. both sexes were expected to abstain from going to public ceremonies and places of amusement; and women were not allowed to marry till a year had elapsed from the husband's death, without the special permission of the emperor. history, however, does not record that their lords and masters applied this rule to their own conduct. [illustration: the mode of enfolding the dead.] the greeks buried their dead before sunrise, so as to avoid ostentation. mourning women took part in the procession, and accompanied the chief female mourner in her visits to the grave, on the seven days following interment. this custom, which was derived from the east, was a usual feature in jewish, roman, and egyptian, as well as in greek funerals. [illustration: the cup of consolation.] the funeral feast was a common practice among the classical ancients, and was kept up to a comparatively recent period, in various european countries. the cup of consolation consisted of light refreshments prepared and sent in by the friends of mourners, who were not supposed to busy themselves with domestic affairs at such a time. the illustration gives a good idea of the mourning habit adopted by the immediate family of the deceased. caves were used for the disposal of the dead, as well as elaborately constructed sepulchres, of which many remain to this day. earth burial was in favour with some nations, but in time of war or pestilence cremation was resorted to. the practice of embalming we owe to the egyptians, who carried it to a great state of perfection. one of the earliest embalmments on record is that of joseph, whose body accompanied the israelites on their journey through the wilderness. he was placed in a coffin, a distinction in the east only accorded to those of the highest rank, the usual mode being to simply swathe the corpse closely in wrappers and bandages, thus retaining the shape of the human form. the jews largely used spices and perfumes, which were employed both for anointing and for wrapping up the body--a very necessary precaution in hot climates. the egyptians, on the death of a relative or sacred animal (the cat, for instance), attired themselves in yellow garments and shaved off their eyebrows. their funeral processions were magnificent. when a king quitted this mortal sphere, the temples were closed for seventy-two days, and there were no sacrifices, solemnities, or feasts. companies of two or three hundred men and women, in mean attire paraded the streets, singing plaintive songs and reciting the virtues of him they had lost. they ate no meat, or food dressed by fire, and omitted their customary baths and anointings. every one mourned as for the death of a favourite child, and spent the day in lamentations. the pyramids, those wonderful monuments to egyptian monarchs, are memorials of the reverence and industry of the nation, whose high state of civilization is attested to by their works. [illustration: an anglo-saxon widow.] [illustration: priest of the th century, wearing a black dalmatic edged with fur, ready to say requiem mass.] burial clubs were common among the anglo-saxons, and heavy fines were inflicted on those who did not attend the funeral of a member. the corpse was placed on a bier, and on the body was laid the book of the gospels, a code of belief and a cross as a symbol of hope. a silken or linen pall was used, according to the rank of the dead person. the clergy bore lighted tapers and chanted the psalter, the mass was performed, and a liberal offering made to the poor. [illustration: hired mourners.] from a th century ms. in the national library, paris, is given a sketch which clearly defines the mourning habit of that period. the gown is evidently of black woollen cloth, trimmed with black and white fur; and a gauze veil of the same sombre tint envelops the head. from the same source a drawing of an anglo-saxon priest is given, on account of his wearing a black dalmatic, edged with fur, a vestment only adopted when a requiem mass was performed. [illustration: mourning in sackcloth] [illustration: widow's dress of queen katherine de valois, in the year ] in the middle ages black was used for mourning as a rule, though purple and brown were occasionally substituted. chaucer, in "the knight's tale," speaks of "clothes _black_ all dropped with tears," and, again, of "widdowes habit of samite _brown_." in many cases, on the death of her husband, the wife retired for a year to a convent, when she assumed the nun's dress, of which the widow's weeds of the present day are a symbol. the mourning adopted by katherine of valois, wife of henry v., the hero of agincourt, who died at vincennes in , may be regarded as the typical widow's dress of that period. it consisted of a black brocade cote hardi, edged with white fur, and further embellished with black glass beads, which were also used for ornamenting the winged head dress. her black woollen gown has a deep bordering of white fur. some mourning habits of this period are represented in a splendid manuscript "liber regalis," still preserved in westminster abbey. they are composed of black fabrics in the prevailing fashion, and are furred with ermine. froissart relates that the earl of foix, on hearing of the death of his son, gaston, sent for his barber, and was close shaved, and clothed himself and his household in black. at the funeral of the earl of flanders, all the nobles and others present were attired in black gowns; and on the death of john, king of france, the king of cyprus clothed himself in black mourning. [illustration: costumes worn by king philip ii. of spain and his attendants at the funeral procession of his father.] at the end of the fifteenth century, it was considered necessary in england to pass sumptuary mourning laws, owing to the extravagance of the nobility in the superfluous usage of cloth and other items at funerals. habits and liveries were limited to certain quantities. planché tells us dukes and marquises were allowed sixteen yards for their gowns, sloppes (or mourning cassocks) and mantles; an earl, fourteen; a viscount, twelve; a baron, eight; a knight, six; and all inferior persons, two yards only; but an archbishop had the same privilege as a duke. hoods were only permitted to those above the degree of esquire of the king's household. [illustration: gentleman's mourning--time of henry vii.] margaret, countess of richmond, the mother of king henry vii., issued, in the eighth year of his reign, an ordinance for "the reformation of apparell for great estates of women in the tyme of mourninge." "they shall have their surcottes with a trayne before and another behynde, and their mantles with traynes. the queen is to wear a surcotte, with the traynes as aforesaid, and playne hoode, and a tippet at the hoode lying a good length upon the trayne of the mantell, being in breadth a nayle and an inche. after the first quarter of a year, the hood to be lined with black satin, or furred with ermine; and all ladies down to the degree of a baroness, are to wear similar mourninge, and to be barbed at the chin." the surcotte, with trayne, hood, barbe, and tippet, are visible in the sketch of a lady of the sixteenth century, taken from pietro vercellio's famous work on costume. the gentleman's mourning of black cloth and fur, is reproduced from a contemporary ms. [illustration: french lady of th century in widow's weeds.] among the obsolete funeral customs, may be mentioned the death crier, the lying-in-state of all classes, and the waxen effigies of those of royal rank. before newspapers published obituary notices, it was customary for the death crier, armed with a bell and attired in a black livery, painted or embroidered with skulls and cross-bones, to announce to the townspeople, and inhabitants of surrounding villages, that another had gone over to the majority. this functionary was in the employ of the corporation, or civil authorities, and on the death of a member of the royal family, he was usually accompanied by the guild of holy souls, who walked in procession, bearing lighted tapers and other religious emblems. lying-in-state usually lasted for three days, by which time the arrangements for a simple interment were completed, and the body was placed reverently in the ground. the obsequies of kings and queens, however, were carried over a protracted period, consequently a waxen figure was prepared, which was dressed in regal robes, and substituted for the body as soon as decomposition set in. this fashion was in vogue till the time of william and mary, and in westminster abbey there is a collection of waxen effigies, which may be viewed by permission of the dean. as likenesses they are interesting, and they are also useful as costume studies. [illustration: german widow's dress of to-day.] of late years, in this country, mourning has been considerably modified, particularly for the male sex, who often content themselves with a black hat-band and another on the left sleeve of dark-coloured clothes. by scotch law, whether a man dies solvent or insolvent, his widow may claim out of his estate, sufficient for mourning suitable to her rank, and the same privilege applies to each of her children, who are old enough to be present at their father's funeral. this right takes precedence over any debts the dead man may have contracted, and is a distinction not accorded to english, welsh, or irish widows. [illustration: the death crier.] in most european countries black is the accepted colour for mourning; though in different parts of the globe white, yellow, red, brown, and even blue garments are prescribed by custom as the emblem of death. these shades have been selected for the following reasons:--black is symbolical of the gloom which surrounds one when those who are nearest and dearest are taken. black and white express sorrow mixed with hope, and white alone the light which follows the night of mourning. blue, the tint of the heavens, to which it is hoped the spirit forms have taken flight. yellow is typical of the dead autumn leaf, and brown the earth to which the body returns. violet, a royal colour, is generally used for the mourning of kings and high dignitaries of the church. scarlet is also used for royal mourning occasionally.[a] [illustration: english widow's dress of to-day.] [footnote a: for permission to reproduce some of the drawings from davey's "history of mourning," i am indebted to messrs. jay, regent street, london.] chapter vii. eccentricities of masculine costume. "the fashion wears out more apparel than the man." --_much ado about nothing._ "through tattered clothes small vices do appear, robes and furred gowns hide all."--_king lear._ [illustration: briton clad in skins.] [illustration: briton at the time of the roman invasion.] "vanity, thy name is woman," "as vain as a woman," and similar epithets, are hurled at our defenceless heads by our teachers and masters; yet how few of them pause for a moment to consider whether they are altogether free from this human weakness or exempt from that love of dress which they so strongly condemn in others. it does not require a deep study of the history of costume to reveal some curious anomalies in this respect, and the sketches chosen for the purpose of illustrating this chapter will only give a faint idea of what has been considered appropriate and becoming to the manly form at different epochs. in pelautier's "histoire des celtes," we learn that "the toilet of the ancient inhabitants of britain, somewhat resembled that of the north american indian of the present day, and consisted of a series of elaborate paintings over the whole surface of the body, which were no doubt originally intended to protect the skin, from the inclemencies of the weather, but were afterwards used as a mode of embellishment and a means of distinguishing the different classes, for it was reserved to freemen, and strictly forbidden to slaves. the lower classes confined themselves to small designs drawn at a considerable distance from each other; but the nobles had the privilege of ornamenting their persons with large figures, chiefly of animals, subsequently transferred to their shields, after they adopted a less scanty costume, and this may be looked upon as the origin of family arms." the picts, who inhabited the north of britain, were remarkable for their pictorial decorations, hence their name, derived from an ancient word, _picti_, which signifies painted. our remote ancestors also added to their other charms (which were doubtless irresistible to the belles of that period), by deepening the tone of their naturally ruddy locks, by washing them in water boiled with lime. their clothing was of skins of animals killed in the chase, and they were armed with implements of bone and flint. the tyrian traders taught them how to construct various weapons of war from a composition of copper and tin, and their flat wicker shields were superseded by those of metal ornamented with concentric circles. after the roman conquest of britain, the skin garments were laid aside for dyed tunics and close trousers. over the tunic was worn a sagum, or short cloak, so named by the romans from _saic_, a word of celtic origin, which signified a skin or hide. when the head was covered it was with a cap, from the british _cab_, a hut, which, from its circular shape, it somewhat resembled, for the dwelling-places were composed of wattles firmly fixed in the ground and fastened together at the top. a curious remnant of this fashion is the horn-like cap of rushes still made by welsh children. the hair was usually long and flowing. men of rank shaved the chin and allowed the moustache to grow to an extraordinary length. [illustration: canute.] the saxons and danes are spoken of as wearers of "scarlet, purple, and fine linen," and the latter combed their hair once a day, bathed once a week, and frequently changed their clothing. by these means they found favour in the eyes of the women, and delighted the wives and daughters of the nobility. in a curious ms., written in the reign of king canute, the monarch is represented in a tunic and mantle embellished with cords and tassels. the tops of his stockings are embroidered, but he wears simple leather shoes. a vestment presented by canute to croyland abbey was of silk, embroidered with golden eagles, and the rich pall which he ordered to be laid over the tomb of edmund ironside, was "embroidered with the likeness of golden apples and ornamented with pearls." from this, we see that the needle played an important part in the ornamentation of clothing, and to it we also owe the splendid bayeux tapestry, worked by matilda, wife of william the conqueror. this priceless curiosity is not only remarkable as a magnificent piece of workmanship, but affords a good idea of the dress of that period--the th century. a tunic reaching to the ankle, leg bandages and shoes, a flowing mantle and flat cap, were the chief characteristics of the civil dress of this and succeeding reigns. the normans, however, were clean-shaven. [illustration: william the norman, from bayeux tapestry.] [illustration: gentleman of the th century.] [illustration: parliament assembled in the reign of richard ii.] [illustration: a capuchon or hood, time of edward ii.] during the middle ages extravagance prevailed in both male and female costume. handsome furs were in great request, and several times sumptuary laws were passed. men wore eight indispensable articles of dress, the shirt, breeches, stockings, shoes, coat, surcoat or cotehardie, mantle, and head dress. the coat or under-dress corresponded with the tunic of the ancients, and was entirely hidden, with the exception of the sleeves, by the surcoat. there were two kinds of mantles, one open in the front, the two sides connected by a strap resting on the chest, the other was open on the right side and had one end thrown over the left shoulder. head coverings were of various descriptions; but many adopted hoods with long points, which were used to attach them to the belt when not in use. the assembling of parliament in the reign of richard ii. gives the lay, spiritual, and legal peers in their usual costumes, and is reproduced from planché's "history of british costume." the bishops are in cowls near the throne, the judges in coifs and furred robes, the earls of westmorland and northumberland stand in front. the duke of hereford, in high cap, is to the left of the throne, and exeter, salisbury, and other peers are seated opposite the judges. during the reign of richard ii., which lasted over twenty years ( to ), there were many curious fashions in masculine attire. the peaked shoes, chained to the knee, were not more ridiculous than the deep, wide sleeves commonly called pokeys, which were shaped like a bagpipe and were worn by all classes. many writers refer to them as the devil's receptacles, as whatever could be stolen was hidden away in their folds. some were wide and reached to the feet, others to the knee, and they were full of slits. hose were often of different colours. parti-coloured suits were also in favour, and these were frequently scalloped at the edges and embroidered with mottoes and other devices. chaucer, who wrote the "canterbury tales" towards the end of richard's reign, describes in the most graphic manner the apparel of his contemporaries. "the haberdasher, carpenter, weaver, dyer, and tapestry worker, all wealthy burghers of the city of london, were clothed in a livery, and the handles of their knives, pouches, and girdles were ornamented with silver. the clergy were not to be distinguished from the laity, and rode on horseback, glittering with gold, in gowns of scarlet and green, fine with cut work. their mitres embellished with pearls like the head of a queen, and staffs of precious metals set with jewels." even the parish clerk is said to be "spruce and foppish in his dress." the author of an anonymous work called the "eulogium," of this date, says:--"the commoners were besotted in excess of apparel. some in wide surcoats reaching to their loins, some in a garment reaching to their heels, closed before and sticking out at the sides, so that at the back they make men seem like women, and this they call by the ridiculous name _gowne_. their hoods are little, and tied under the chins. their lirri-pipes (tippets) pass round the neck, and hanging down before, reach to the heels." towards the end of the th century men began to wear short clothes made to fit the body so closely that it often required the assistance of two people to remove them, and it is from this period we can distinctly trace the difference between ancient and modern dress; in fact, our present fashions--masculine and feminine--resemble to a certain extent those worn during mediæval times. then, as now, men wore overcoats with tight sleeves, felt hats also with feathers, worn over a skull cap, and slung behind the back, and closely-fitting shoes and boots. the tudor monarchs paid considerable attention to the adornment of their persons, and were responsible for stringent legal enactments calculated to encourage home manufacturers. felt hat-making--one of our oldest industries--was introduced into this country from spain and holland. a great impetus was given to this branch of trade by a law passed in which enjoined "every person above the age of seven years to wear on sundays or holidays a cap of wool, knit made, thickened, and dressed in england by some of the trade of cappers, under the forfeiture of three farthings for every day's neglect." in the felt makers became a corporation with grants and many privileges. throughout the middle ages the upper classes frequently engaged in commerce. bishops, abbots, and nobles personally superintended the disposal of the produce of their estates, and a considerable number of the younger sons of good families were the leading traders of the th and th centuries. [illustration: costume of the reign of henry vii.] the "frocke" frequently mentioned, and of which the modern frock coat is the degenerate descendant, was a sort of jacket or jerkin made occasionally with skirts, a style associated especially, with holbein's portraits of henry viii. and his contemporaries. the uniform worn at the present day by the yeomen of the guard stationed at the tower of london, gives us the military costume of the tudor period. it is the oldest corps in her majesty's service, and was instituted by henry vii. as the bodyguard of the sovereign. in the dress of the bluecoat boys at christ's hospital we have that of the citizens of london during the reign of edward vi. and mary, when blue coats were habitually used by apprentices and serving men, yellow stockings also were in common use. the badges on the jackets of firemen and watermen date from this time; they were made of metal and placed on the sleeve, in the th century, instead of being embroidered on the back or breast of the garment as they had been previously. retainers in the households of the wealthy, were provided with surcoats and mantles twice a year, of their patron's favourite colour, and this was called the _livrée_, from a french word signifying to distribute. trade guilds and members of the learned professions, also adopted a distinct style of costume. lawyers, who were originally priests, of course wore the tonsure; but when the clergy ceased to interfere with secular affairs the lay lawyer continued this sign of office, and also wore a coif. their gowns were capacious and lined with fur: and the justices of the king's bench were allowed liveries by the king, of cloth and silk. budge, or lambskin, and miniver were provided for the trimming thereof, and the colour appears to have varied in different reigns, but for a long time green prevailed. [illustration: courtier in the reign of elizabeth.] the courtiers of elizabeth discarded the "frocke cote" for quilted and stuffed doublets and trunk hose, slashed and ornamented in the most quaint and extravagant manner. below these were worn stockings embroidered with birds, beasts, and other devices, "sewed up close thereto as though they were all of one piece." trunk hose were appropriately named, as they were often filled with wool, bran, and other materials. at last they became of such enormous size that it was necessary to construct swings in the houses of parliament in place of the ordinary fixed seats, for the accommodation of those wearing this singular article of attire. enormous ruffs of muslin and lace encircled the necks of dandies of the elizabethan era, and they appear to have had waists which would excite the envy of the belles of the latter part of the th century. in fact, the gallants of that day were even in advance of the fair sex, in their love of fantastic costume; and as hollingshead, in _the chronicle_, justly states in reference to the fashions of the period: "nothing was more constant in england than inconstancy of attire." [illustration: earl of surrey, time of henry viii.] a few years since, behind some ancient panelling at haddon hall, derbyshire, was discovered a washing bill (with other things appertaining to the th and th centuries) which gives us a good idea of the various articles of dress then worn. reference is made to the _ruff_, which is too well known to need description; to _bandes_ made of linen and cambric, from which those now used by the clergy took their origin, and from which we derive the modern word bandbox. there were three kinds--some that stood upright, others were allowed to lie flat upon the shoulders, as shown in the drawings of charles i. and ii., and those which were embroidered and trimmed with lace. the _shirt_ applied to the under-garment of both sexes, and the half-shirt referred to the stomacher over which the dress was laced. _boot hose_ were made of a variety of materials, and were occasionally called nether stocks; _socks_ were sometimes put over them; and _tops_ were of holland linen or lace, and formed the lining of the full hanging boots of the cavaliers. [illustration: charles i.] during the civil war the dress worn by the king's adherents, consisted of a doublet of silk or satin with loose sleeves, slashed up the front; the collar was generally of point lace, and a short cloak rested carelessly on one shoulder. the hat was a broad-brimmed beaver with a plume of feathers, and trunk hose gave way to breeches. the roundheads or republican party went to the opposite extreme. they cut their hair close, avoided lace and jewels, had plain linen or cloth suits of a grey or brown tint, with a hat somewhat resembling the modern chimney pot. [illustration: charles ii. and his queen ( ).] [illustration: william iii. ( )] [illustration: gentleman and lady of th century.] * * * * * about this period we also hear of the waistcoat, which was cut high at the neck, and was made with sleeves. neckcloths and cravats of brussels and flanders lace were tied in a knot under the chin, and had square ends. another peculiar feature of masculine costume towards the end of the th century consisted of petticoat breeches with drooping lace ruffles, such as adorn the nether limbs of charles ii. patches and perukes were also adopted, and the former fashion, a revival of an old roman custom, had political significance according to where they were placed on the face, and were bitterly ridiculed by numerous satirical writers. "i know many young gentlemen," says middleton, in one of his plays, "who wear longer hair than their mistresses." the beard was worn in different ways, but the most usual shape was what beaumont and fletcher, in their "queen of corinth," call the t beard, consisting of a moustache and imperial:-- "his beard, which now he put i' the form of a t, the roman t; your t beard is the fashion, and two-fold doth express the enamoured courtier." shakespeare also tells us, it was often dyed different colours. [illustration: walking dress, .] everyone tried to rival his neighbour in the size of his peruke, till they became so preposterous that charles ii. showed his disfavour by writing a letter to the university of cambridge forbidding the members to wear periwigs, smoke tobacco, or read their sermons. history does not relate what effect the king's censure had upon the head-gear of students attending the colleges, but it is absolutely proved that they paid no heed to his latter commands. it was the fashion for men to comb their perukes in public, and curiously-chased combs of bone and tortoise-shell, were carried in the pocket with the snuff-box, another indispensable appendage of a fine gentleman. in the th century the broad hat brims were turned up at the sides, and, in the racy vernacular of the day, "each gallant cocked his hat according to his fancy." shoe buckles became general in the reign of queen anne, and displaced the ribbon rosettes formerly worn. planché accurately describes the fashions of that day. "the square-cut coat was stiffened with wires and buckram, and the long-flapped waistcoat with pockets almost met the stockings. there were hanging cuffs with lace ruffles, square-toed shoes with red heels, and hats laced with gold or silver galloon." at the beginning of the th century many important changes took place. excepting for court dress, cloth was substituted for velvet and other rich fabrics. the coat was open, displaying an elaborate shirt-front, stock and flowered waistcoat; and the skirt, though full, fell in natural folds. trousers were very tight, and held in place by a strap beneath the foot, and hats displayed narrow curved brims. we have only to cast our eyes down the vista of ages to find that british costume has been suited to the needs, habits, and customs of the people, and periods at which it was worn. skins of animals were appropriate to the hardy cave dwellers who inhabited this country at an early period in the world's history. the simple dress of the anglo-saxons fulfilled the requirements of a primitive race; and the furs and rich fabrics brought home by the crusaders were adapted to the higher state of civilization which prevailed in the middle ages. in the th century the renaissance (of art and culture) was specially noted for richness of attire. during the th century a mixture of styles which had found favour with previous generations was the most marked feature in the costume of that period, and this equally applies to the two first decades of the present one. masculine attire at the present day, though simple and practical, has few points of beauty to recommend it. briefly, it resolves itself into a series of woollen cylinders which changeth not from generation to generation. chapter viii. a chat about children and their clothing. "the childhood shows the man, as morning shows the day."--_milton._ of children's dress in olden times we have singularly few details, and, as a rule, it may be concluded that their raiment was fashioned on similar lines to that worn by the men and women of the country in which they lived, and was more or less ornamented, according to their station in life. [illustration: children of charles i. (_after a painting by vandyck._)] one or two biblical references enlighten us as to eastern customs. on the authority of st. luke, our saviour in infancy was wrapped in swaddling clothes. "samuel," we are told, "being a child, was girded with a linen ephod," which appears to have been a close robe or vest reaching from the shoulders to the loins, and confined by a girdle. considering the climate and the habits of the people, it was probably the only garment used in summer, but in cold weather was supplemented, we presume, by the little coat his mother bought him from year to year, when she and her husband came to offer the annual sacrifice, at shiloh, where eli, the high priest, lived. a coat of many colours was also presented to joseph in his youth as a mark of jacob's affection for the child of his old age. greek and roman children of the gentler sex are usually represented in the chiton, or loose classical gown, combined with a shawl or himation weighted at the four corners, so as to assist the wearer in adjusting it. how to put on this garment was carefully taught as part of a girl's education. the long end was first thrown over the left shoulder. the front part was arranged in folds across the body, passed under the right arm and over the left shoulder or forearm. the girdle sometimes consisted of a cord, at others of metal bands, and by drawing the chiton over it, a double thickness of the fabric covered the vital organs of the body. boys wore the tunic and toga, and the latter is supposed to have been oblong, with the corners rounded off, so as to give a semicircular effect. hats were not commonly worn, except by the poor or when on a journey, a fold of the toga or mantle serving for a head covering, and sandals protected the feet. the egyptian labouring classes allowed their children to be nude, and infants were unfamiliar with swaddling clothes. the working man and boy had simply a loin cloth and girdle, and the girl a loose tunic fastened with strings at the neck and reaching to her feet. on the other hand, children of the upper classes in egypt were repetitions of their elders on a small scale. girls wore a linen skirt embroidered in colours and fastened with a bright sash, or suspended from the shoulders, and over this a loose transparent robe with long sleeves. the male costume consisted of a loin cloth, and a full robe with short sleeves, or a tunic, and both sexes had elaborately curled or plaited wigs, as the natural hair was only allowed to grow in times of mourning. the roman occupation of britain left its impress for a long period on the costume of the anglo-saxon race. the long-sleeved banded tunic was the usual habit of the industrial classes through the middle ages and leg bandages and cross gartering preceded breeches. quite young boys appear in this dress, and little girls are seen in ancient mss. in the kirtle and gunna, the equivalents of the modern petticoat and dress. their hair, however, was allowed to fall naturally, or was dressed with two pendant plaits, and was not concealed, as was so often the case with adult females, by means of the head-rail. the materials used in clothing were to a great extent the produce of household industry. the women servants were employed in spinning, weaving, and sewing, and ladies of the highest rank did not disdain to participate in such labours. several articles of dress were derived from the tanner, who worked up his leather into shoes, ankle leathers, and leathern hose. the art of tanning skins with the wool or hair on, was also practised, and dyeing was in great request, for in a rude age a love of gaudy colours is a natural characteristic of the people. the most skilful artificers were found in the religious houses, but under each landowner serfs were trained in the mechanical arts. silk was worn by the wealthy, but the common materials for wearing apparel in this country were cotton, linen, and woollen. [illustration: children's costume, present day.] among the anglo-saxons and their pagan ancestors the desertion of children sometimes occurred, but as the influence of christianity increased, it was regarded as a crime, and a law was passed for its repression. for fostering a foundling the state allowed s. the first year; s. the second; and s. for the third year; and afterward the foster parent was to receive a sum varying according to the appearance of the child. children bereft of their father, remained under the mother's care, but until the eldest child became of age were subject to the guardianship of the husband's relations. mothers usually nursed their own children, cradles were used, and for the first few months their clothing was swathed with a bandage. in this compact form they were more easily carried, though the constraint to which they were subjected, probably prevented that free development of the limbs, which we now consider so essential to health and beauty. if very poor, the father was allowed to sell his son into slavery for seven years, providing the consent of the child was obtained, and one ten years old could give evidence. until a daughter was fifteen years of age, her father could marry her as he pleased, but afterwards had no power to do so. a boy of fifteen could enter the monastic life if so disposed, and a girl at a somewhat later period. monasteries offered the best education then procurable, and the clergy were directed to "teach youth with care, and to draw them to some craft." schoolboys appear to have been kept in order, by the dread of personal chastisement, and great respect and reverence was exacted by their elders. [illustration] in the dress of the blue-coat school (christ's hospital), we see the ordinary costume of boys of the tudor period. it consisted of a long coat reaching to the heels and knee-breeches, a striped vest, yellow stockings, and a small round cap placed on the side of the head. the dress of little girls may be found on various monumental effigies, in which they appear like their mothers, in full skirts, sometimes distended by a fardingale, the body imprisoned in whalebone to the hips, a folded ruff encircling the neck, and their stockings (according to stubbs) were of the finest yarn, silk, thread, or cloth that could possibly be had, of changeable colours, cunningly knit, with curiously indented points, clocks, and open seams. the shoes were of black, green, white and yellow velvet, or of leather stitched with silk and embroidered with gold and silver all over the foot. [illustration] the paintings of vandyck bring graphically before us the picturesque elements of the dress of the stuart era. there is an air of richness and refinement about the long skirted silken frocks embellished with lace, the pointed collars, and beaver hats with trailing feathers universally worn, and the quaint lace caps, which, by a turn of fashion's wheel, have been remodelled for the children of today. [illustration] at no period in the history of costume were the styles so offensive to those with a true conception of colour and form than in the first half of the nineteenth century. we have only to turn to the sketches of leech and contemporary artists to find bare necks and arms, conspicuous underwear, very short skirts distended by a stiffened petticoat or crinoline, white cotton stockings, low shoes fastened by a strap and single button, mushroom hats, aprons and pinafores devoid of elegance and grace, and the hair cut close to the head or arranged in rows of stiff ringlets. nor did the boys of england, in trousers buttoned high on short jackets, or with tunics worn with frilled linen collars and leathern belts, show to greater advantage. queen victoria inaugurated a new system of clothing for boys, when she dressed the young princes in scotch and sailor suits, and the wardrobes of all classes have been considerably extended of late, by the open-air life and outdoor sports in which every self-respecting lad indulges. cricket, tennis, boating, football, and cycling, all imperatively demand appropriate apparel, and tailors now give reasonable attention to this important branch of their business, and provide fabrics and designs suited to the needs of the rising generation. [illustration] habits of personal cleanliness and the influence of dress on the minds of growing girls is hardly realized except by those directly concerned in education. many a sensitive child's character has been warped by the thoughtless jeers of schoolfellows, who were quick to perceive that her clothing was not up-to-date or of such good material as their own. on the other hand, vanity, envy, and uncharitableness have been engendered by foolish mothers, who have provided their daughters with inappropriate and extravagant outfits. [illustration] though many advocate uniforms with distinctive trimmings for girls' colleges, there are drawbacks to the scheme being adopted. such a course would probably destroy the individuality which we all desire to see applied to the choice of clothing, and it would leave no field for original ideas. children must be _trained_ to select and wear their clothes to the best advantage, and it is folly to think that they will do so by intuition. some may possess naturally an artistic sense and a keen eye for colour, but they are certainly in the minority, and rational dress reformers have pushed sensible ideas to the verge of absurdity, till now the name is almost regarded as a term of reproach. [illustration] [illustration] how much we owe to pioneers of children's dress reform, and especially to messrs. liberty, who evolved what is generally known as the æsthetic style in dress. from sketches courteously placed at my disposal, i am enabled to put before the reader examples of children's clothing which are artistic in form, light of texture, and which in no way impede the physical development. those who have the care of children should remember what a sacred charge is imposed upon them, and that their future health mainly depends, upon the manner in which they are clothed during the first few years of life. there must be no tight bands, belts, or garters to prevent circulation and to cause organic troubles; and where corsets are dispensed with, as happily they are in many cases where growing girls are concerned, the weight of the clothing should be borne by the shoulders, not the waist, and this is ensured by cutting undergarments in the princess or combination forms. many young people suffer from being carelessly shod, and hideous malformations of the feet arise in consequence, while obscure diseases of the brain can sometimes be traced to heavy head-gear, and the strain of over-study. hats should be of light construction, and afford a grateful shade to the eyes, if that far-reaching ailment of civilisation, short sight, is to be successfully combatted; and special attention must be paid to infants, who may often be seen in public thoroughfares with a hot sun beating down upon them, and the nurse oblivious to the fact. the sight of a tender infant entrusted to the care of a young woman, who has not the glimmering of a notion of how to look after its fragile body, must fill any right-minded person with indignation. is it unreasonable to expect those who undertake the charge of children to acquaint themselves with at least an elementary knowledge of the construction and functions of the human body? the ignorance of the average nursemaid is appalling; and though a board school education may have acquainted her with the mysteries of the first book of euclid, or the rudiments of music, the curriculum rarely includes the simplest instruction on the healthy training of children; and, in consequence, the high rate of infant mortality in this country is a national disgrace. chapter ix. fancy costume of various periods. "the dome, where pleasure holds her midnight reign, here richly decked, admits the gorgeous train; tumultuous grandeur crowds the blazing square, the rattling chariots clash, the torches glare." during the roman occupation of britain, many sports and pastimes, with their appropriate costumes, were introduced into this country from southern europe and the east, and at a very early period mummings were popular with the people. these were primitive masquerades, where the actors, if we may judge from antique illuminations, generally mimicked the brute creation rather than human beings. they often appeared between the courses at banquets, and on important occasions elaborate pageants were arranged. ships filled with mariners were sometimes introduced, or towers garrisoned with armed men, while the actors portrayed some allegorical lesson or historical incident. a well-known event intimately connected with masking was the narrow escape from death by fire of charles vi. of france, on january th, . the king, with eleven of his knights, for the amusement of the court, dressed like savages, in tight-fitting garments of linen covered with flax, and were dancing before the queen and the duchess de berri, when the duc d'orléans with a torch accidentally ignited the inflammable costume of a masker, who was chained to four others. the duchess protected the king by wrapping him in the train of her mantle, but four persons died in great agony. edward iii. issued an ordinance against vagrants who exhibited scandalous masquerades in low ale-houses, and directed that such persons should be whipped out of london. the feast of fools was one of the most singular of these exhibitions. it somewhat resembled the roman saturnalia, and was enacted at christmas. in england the celebration of this festival does not appear to have been attended with the same excesses as were commonly practised on the continent, but it was nevertheless a season of licence, in which order and discipline were reversed. the churl was elected to represent the pope; the buffoon was made a cardinal; and the lowest of the mob assumed for the time being the garb of the priesthood, and took possession of churches, where they parodied every part of the sacred service, and sang masses composed of obscene songs. dramatic representations were so tainted by the grossness and licentiousness of the age, that priests were prohibited from attending them, till the church introduced religious plays, founded on scriptural incidents, and which were known as miracles and mysteries. for these the actors were trained by the clergy, and sacred edifices and vestments were placed at their disposal, to give truth and lustre to the representations. there were frequent tournaments after the norman invasion, and these were patronized and encouraged by richard c[oe]ur de lion. from this era they occupied a prominent place in the national institutions and history, and afforded many opportunities for the display of picturesque costume. ladies on these occasions were conspicuous, and sometimes rode in parti-coloured tunics with short hoods and tippets wrapped about their heads. their girdles were decorated with gold and silver, and they carried small swords. the space marked out for the combat was surrounded by raised seats for high-born dames, princes, and the judges of the conflict. knights wore their ladies' colours on their helmets, emblazoned on their clothing, and on the trappings of their horses; and throngs of troubadours, heralds, and minstrels dressed in gorgeous attire, were present to discharge their duties, and to give importance to the spectacle. the ancient english morris dance, performed with other quaint usages on the st of may, is supposed to be of moorish origin. it is depicted on an antique stained glass window at betley, in staffordshire. the may-pole and the man with the hobby horse (who represents a moorish king, and is the consort of the may queen), occupy a prominent position. the other characters are the fool, the lesser fool, tom the piper, a spaniard, the franklin or private gentleman, a churl or peasant, the may queen, a nobleman, and a friar. the dresses were adorned with bells, intended to sound the measure of the dancers. they were of different sizes, and were called the fore bell, the second bell, the treble, the tenor, and the great bell. planché, in his valuable work, the "cyclopædia of costume," states the earliest illustration of a _bal costumé_ is in a ms. of the fifteenth century, in the ambrosian library at milan, and he gives a reproduction from an old painting on wood dating from , representing a dance by torchlight at the court of burgundy. each person holds a long lighted taper, and this dance, up to the sixteenth century, was usually reserved for wedding festivities. in england masked balls were rare before the reign of william iii., and in france they first took place during the regency of philip, duke of orleans, when the opera house was converted into a ball-room. father sebastian, a carmelite friar, devised a means of elevating the floor of the pit to the level of the stage, and of lowering it at pleasure. ranelagh and vauxhall gardens, and belsize house, hampstead, were also places of popular resort, and scenes of many entertainments during the eighteenth century. there were pyrotechnic displays, bands of music, frequent balls, and facilities for dinner and supper parties. the lawns were dotted with arbours, lakes, and artificial cascades; the trees were festooned with coloured lamps, and the costumes of those who frequented these gatherings were elaborate and costly. from the writings of horace walpole and others, we learn that private open-air galas were of common occurrence among the aristocracy, and he gives a description of a _festino_ at northumberland house in honour of the marquess of tavistock and his bride; when arches and pyramids of lights alternately surrounded the enclosure, and festoons of lamps edged the railings. in her majesty queen charlotte surprised her husband on his birthday with a splendid garden party, followed by fireworks, a cold supper of a hundred dishes, and an illuminated dessert. the duke of richmond celebrated a similar occasion with a masked ball and music--the vocal parts performed by many of the nobility, in fancy dress. here, too, there was a display of fireworks in the garden and from the river. almack's new subscription and assembly room was opened in february, , under distinguished patronage; and gibbon mentions a masquerade at a rival establishment, the pantheon, which he states was above par in magnificence, and below par in humour, and cost £ . five o'clock was the dinner hour of fashionable people during the eighteenth century, and three for those of lower rank. at eleven p.m. supper was usually served, and breakfast was from nine to eleven a.m. the house of commons commenced sitting at two, and the opera began at seven. at this period the domino (evolved from the priestly cowl) was in great request, and was used in the boxes of theatres for purposes of concealment, and by those of questionable morals. though the large hoop towards the close of the eighteenth century was only worn at court, or in full dress, the pocket hoop for distending the panniers was still in vogue. for the abolition of the court hoop, we are indebted to george iv., whose taste in dress was unimpeachable. powder and patches maintained their ground till , when they were discarded by queen charlotte and the princesses. aprons were regarded as a necessary item of a fashionable costume up to , and the watch and etui adorned the waist, necklaces sparkled on the bosom, and bracelets were worn over long gloves. the french revolution affected masculine costume; and in were introduced into this country the muslin cravat, in which the chin was partially concealed, stand-up collars, hessian boots, and round hats of beaver. scarlet coats were much in vogue about , and an anecdote in "the life of sir astley cooper" represents him as returning from a dancing academy in a scarlet coat, a three-cocked hat, a black glazed stock, nankeen knee-breeches, and silk stockings. this may be regarded as the ordinary costume of a gentleman at that period. wigs had begun to go out of fashion as early as , in which year the wigmakers petitioned king george iii. to support the trade by his example. "the hair," says malcolm, "was dressed high on the head, whitened with powder, and alternately plaited and turned up or queued behind." when the hair powder tax--one guinea per annum--was enforced in , thousands of heads reverted to their natural colour. some brilliant fancy dress balls (with a view to encouraging home trade) have taken place during the victorian era. of the first, which was given by the queen and prince consort at buckingham palace in , a permanent memorial exists in two handsome volumes compiled by j. r. planché, containing carefully coloured illustrations of the various dresses, and autograph portraits of the wearers. they form an invaluable book of reference for those desiring accurate representations of the costume of the period of edward iii. ( - ). a special feature of this ball was a series of costume quadrilles, arranged by ladies of the court and others of high rank. they were danced in the following order:-- french quadrille, led by h. r. h. the duchess of cambridge. spanish quadrille, led by the duchess of buccleuch. german quadrille, led by the duchess of sutherland. crusaders' quadrille, led by the marchioness of londonderry. waverley quadrille, led by the countess de la warr. scotch quadrille, led by the duchess of buccleuch. cossack quadrille, led by baroness bremon. greek quadrille, led by the duchess of leinster. [illustration: prince albert as edward iii.] prince albert, as edward iii., wore a costume copied from the effigy of that king in westminster abbey. it consisted of a long tunic of gold and blue brocade, reaching to the ankles. the collar, which fitted close round the neck, was bordered with purple velvet, thickly studded with jewels. the tunic, which had an opening up the centre to the height of the knee, was bordered and enriched with jewels to correspond with the collar, as were the wristbands. the hose were scarlet, also the shoes, which were embroidered with gold. over the tunic, his royal highness wore a mantle reaching to the heels, composed of the richest scarlet velvet, bordered by a broad gold figured lace, set on each side with large pearls. it was lined with ermine, and connected across the breast by a band of purple velvet, studded with diamonds, rubies, and emeralds, and in the centre was a turquoise of immense size and perfect colour. the band was fastened to the mantle on either side by a massive gold ornament enriched with precious stones. [illustration: queen victoria as philippa, wife of edward iii.] her majesty the queen as philippa of hainault, wife of edward iii., was attired in a demi-trained skirt of crimson velvet, edged with miniver. over this was worn a surcoat of blue and gold brocade, trimmed with fur to match, and embellished with a stomacher of jewels valued at £ , . the other portions of the costume were also studded with jewels. the mantle was of gold brocade, with a floral design in silver. the hair was encased in a gold net, enriched with precious stones, and was surmounted by a crown. princess augusta of cambridge personated princess claude, daughter of anne of bretagne, queen of france. her dress of silver tissue was bordered with ermine, and the tunic was of light blue velvet, worked with the fleur-de-lis in silver. the low bodice was bordered with diamonds. the sleeves of silver tissue reached to the wrist, and were trimmed with rows of pearls. the gloves were jewelled, and a white tulle veil with silver embroideries depended from a turquoise and pearl diadem. by her majesty's command, her own dress, that of prince consort, and most of the costumes worn at this ball, were manufactured by the silk-weavers of spitalfields. for the second royal ball in june, , the period of george ii. ( - ) was selected, and guests were invited. the queen looked extremely well in powder, and her dress is described as of cloth of gold and cloth of silver, with daisies and poppies worked in silk, and shaded in natural colours. the trimmings and ruffles of exquisite point lace--had belonged to queen charlotte--and the stomacher was trimmed with lace and jewels. the sacque was ornamented with ribbons, caught with diamonds. on the powdered coiffure was a diamond crown; her majesty's white shoes had red rosettes with diamond centres, and she wore the star and ribbon of the order of the garter. prince albert had a costume of the same period, with the star of the garter, and the order of the golden fleece in brilliants. the marchioness of douro, the duke of wellington's daughter-in-law, was the acknowledged belle of this ball, and wore £ , worth of diamonds. miss--now the baroness--burdett coutts was also present, her dress trimmed with jewels once the property of marie antoinette. in the princess of wales attended the waverley ball at willis' rooms, with several other members of the royal family, and was much admired in the character of the ill-fated mary stuart. on july nd, , a fancy dress ball was given by their royal highnesses the prince and princess of wales at marlborough house, for which some beautiful costumes were prepared. the princess wore a handsome venetian dress, and danced in the first quadrille with the present duke of devonshire. the prince in a cavalier costume opened the ball with the late duchess of sutherland. the chief costume quadrilles on this occasion were the venetian, the vandyck, characters in fairy tales, and a pack of cards. another historic _bal costumé_ was given in february, , at warwick castle, by the earl and countess of warwick. no more fitting background for such a function can be imagined than this stately mansion, which has been a centre of hospitality for countless generations, but has never been presided over by no more gracious and popular châtelaine than the present countess. lady warwick looked very beautiful as marie antoinette (the consort of louis xvi. of france) in a petticoat and corsage of exquisite english brocade, with a design of shaded roses, enriched with gold thread on a pearl-coloured ground. the train of royal blue velvet, embroidered in gold thread with the fleur-de-lis, was attached to the shoulders by a band of diamonds; and the warwick jewels, diamond stars, were arranged on the corsage veiled with gold flecked gauze, which was also employed for the puffed sleeves. her elaborate white coiffure was surmounted by a white muslin cap edged with blue velvet and adorned with diamond aigrettes and plumes of pink, white, and blue feathers. lady marjorie greville (the only daughter of lord and lady warwick) with miss hamilton acted as train-bearers. they wore the daintiest white costumes of the period, composed of broché silk, with fichus of white chiffon, and silk hats trimmed with feathers. each carried a long crook tied with white ribbons and bunches of flowers, and the effect was charming. the earl of warwick wore a french court costume, the coat of ruby velvet profusely trimmed with gold lace, white cloth cuffs, and revers. the long white kerseymere waistcoat was braided in gold, and the white knee-breeches and low shoes were ornamented with diamond buckles. the earl's wig, _a la mousquetaire_, was tied with a bow of black ribbon, and he carried a tricorne hat with white ostrich plumes, and white gauntlet gloves. lady warwick's two sisters, the duchess of sutherland and lady angela forbes, represented marie letzinka, consort of louis xv., and lady mary campbell. the former wore a magnificent gown of white satin de lyon. the skirt embroidered with a flight of swallows in silver and crystals, a deep bertha of point de flandre, with ruffles of the same on the short sleeves. the train of crimson velvet was embroidered with the french emblem, and her grace had a stomacher of splendid diamonds. lady angela forbes' dress was of white muslin, with a blue sash, and picturesque hat of turquoise silk, trimmed with feathers and roses. princess henry of pless, as la duchesse de polignac, had a dress of rich white satin, the skirt embroidered in. deep, with turquoises and brilliants, a powdered wig, and the same jewels in her hair. lady eva dugdale, sister to the earl of warwick, and lady-in-waiting to her royal highness the duchess of york, wore a louis quinze white satin dress, covered with pink roses, corsage _en suite_ fastened with large diamond ornaments. a silver trellis pattern was worked round the hem of the skirt, and white silk mittens and shoes completed the costume. lady rosslyn chose a white embroidered muslin petticoat, the overdress of pink and red striped silk, fichu and ruches of black lisse, and a picturesque hat. lady flo sturt, as madame la marquise de pompadour, was in rich cream satin, with bodice and sleeves of antique lace, and stomacher of diamonds. a black satin toque, with aigrette of diamonds, contrasted well with the white wig. count deym, the austrian ambassador, was in english court dress. prince henry of pless, in mousquetaire costume, represented the vicomte de bragelonne. the duke of manchester was in white satin breeches, waistcoat to match, bordered with gold, and coat of white and silver brocade with moss roses and foliage. the scene inside the castle was one of unparalleled brilliancy, while those who glanced from the mullioned windows saw by bright moonlight the avon frozen, the ancient cedars glistening with frost, and the surrounding country wrapped in a snowy mantle. the entire ground floor of the castle was thrown open, and no pains were spared to give as complete a representation as possible of the gorgeous fêtes which made the court of marie antoinette famous throughout europe. the finest spectacle presented itself when the guests assembled at supper in the oak-lined hall, where the light of a thousand candles was reflected in the bright steel armour which surrounded the walls. several high screens, hung with beauvais tapestry and shaded by huge palms, filled the angles of the hall, and the stone walls were partially concealed by yellow and silver embroideries. in the huge fireplace logs crackled, and on small round tables were placed silver candelabra with crimson shades and floral decorations, consisting of scarlet geraniums and maiden-hair fern. the centre table was reserved for marie antoinette and her court, and here was the choicest display of family plate, including, amongst other valuable specimens of the goldsmith's art, a golden cup modelled by benvenuto cellini. from the hall you entered the red drawing room, which contains a marble table, inlaid with flowers and fruit, and formerly the property of marie antoinette. next is the cedar drawing-room, used as the ball-room, on whose walls are many family portraits and other paintings by vandyck; the remainder of the suite of state apartments were used as withdrawing-rooms between the dances; and at the opposite end of the castle is the library, the billiard-room, and the countess's lovely louis seize boudoir, in ivory tints, with festoons of delicately-shaded flowers. dancing was carried on with great spirit till early morning, and the tardy winter sun had risen ere the last carriage drove away from one of the most successful balls of the nineteenth century. among the many important entertainments given by members of the english aristocracy in honour of the sixtieth year of the reign of queen victoria, was a costume ball at devonshire house, piccadilly, on july nd, , when the duke and duchess of devonshire received nearly all the members of the royal family, many distinguished guests from the colonies, and members of the corps diplomatique. this historic mansion was built for the third duke of devonshire, and it was here that georgiana, the beautiful duchess of devonshire, held her court. it contains a fine suite of reception rooms on the first floor; a gallery of pictures, in which the old masters are well represented; and extensive grounds in the rear, which on this occasion were decorated with thousands of chinese lanterns and fairy lamps. the principal feature of the ball was a grand procession of the guests, headed by the duke and duchess of devonshire, the former personating charles v. of germany, and the latter attired with oriental magnificence as zenobia, queen of palmyra, in a robe of silver tissue wrought with jewels. the mantle was of cloth of gold similarly treated, and the bodice was also studded with precious stones. the head-dress consisted of white ostrich plumes and a golden and jewelled crown, from which depended chains of pearls. h.r.h. the princess of wales, as margaret of valois, was surrounded by the ladies of her court, their royal highnesses princess charles of denmark, princess victoria of wales, the duchess of fife, and the duchess of york. the princess of wales wore a gown of white satin wrought with silver, and a train of cloth of gold lined with silver and superbly jewelled. h.r.h. the prince of wales, as grand master of the knights hospitallers of st. john of jerusalem and chevalier of malta, wore a rich elizabethan costume carried out in black and silver, and bearing the white cross of the order on one shoulder. the duke of york represented the earl of cumberland, one of queen elizabeth's courtiers. prince charles of denmark was a danish student. the duke of connaught wore the uniform of a military commander during the reign of elizabeth, and the duchess looked charming as queen anne of austria in a picturesque gown with puffed sleeves. the eastern queens were magnificently arrayed and blazing with jewels. lady de trafford was semiramis, empress of assyria, in a dress copied from a vase in the british museum. princess henry of pless was queen of sheba, in a robe and train of shot purple and gold tissue, elaborately embroidered with turquoises and other stones, and wore an assyrian jewelled head-dress, decorated with a diamond bird and aigrette. another queen of sheba was lady cynthia graham, and there were two cleopatras--lady de grey and mrs. arthur paget. the husband of the latter accompanied her as mark antony. lady elcho was a byzantine queen, miss muriel wilson was queen vashti, and the countess of dudley, as queen esther, wore a dress of white crêpe, embroidered with gold and studded with amethysts, turquoises, and pearls. the elizabethan court was represented by lady tweedmouth as queen elizabeth, in a gown copied from a picture in the national portrait gallery. her canopy was carried by four yeomen in uniforms of crimson, black, and gold, copied from holbein's picture of "the field of the cloth of gold," in the hampton court collection. lord tweedmouth was the earl of leicester, in slashed doublet and hose of ruby velvet and satin, enriched with gold embroidery. lady edmondstone, as mary queen of scots, wore a dress of pale blue velvet, and tulle veil head-dress and ruff worked with pearls. she was attended by the duchess of hamilton, dressed in the character of mary hamilton, the queen's favourite maid of honour. the countess of warwick, as marie antoinette, was beautifully dressed in a petticoat of rich white satin and a court gown of english brocade, with a train of royal blue velvet. the hair was powdered, and she was attended by four pages in white satin suits and three-cornered hats, bearing over her ladyship a canopy of blue velvet. this group included the duchess of sutherland, as charlotte corday in a gown of red _crêpe de chine_, a muslin fichu and cap, trimmed with point d'alençon lace, and dagger at waist. lady westmorland made a lovely hebe, and lady angela forbes, as the queen of naples, wore an empire gown of ivory duchesse satin, embroidered with silver and diamonds, and a train of lilac velvet, edged with jewelled embroidery and lined with satin. the head-dress consisted of a small jewelled crown and two white feathers. among many other notable costumes should be mentioned the marchioness of tweedale's, as the empress josephine, as she appears in the coronation picture at the louvre, paris; the marchioness of londonderry, as the empress marie thérèse, of austria, and the marchioness of zetland's, as queen henrietta maria, wife of charles i. of england; viscountess raincliffe, as the empress catherine ii. of russia, wore white satin, and her dress was an exact copy of the picture in the british museum by lambi. the court gown of the duchess of portland, as duchesse de savoia, who headed the venetian procession, was composed of white satin veiled, with lisse wrought with silver, partially covered by a silver cloth mantle, embroidered with pearls and diamonds, and diamonds and emeralds were introduced in the coiffure. chapter x stage and floral costume. "all the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players, they have their exits and their entrances, and one man in his time plays many parts." garrick was one of the first of our english actors to realize how much the success of a piece depended upon appropriate costume, and, on his taking the management of drury lane theatre in , at once turned his attention to this important branch of dramatic art. he refused to tolerate the absurdity of a heterogeneous mixture of the foreign and ancient modes, which had hitherto debased tragedies by representing, for instance, greek soldiers in full-bottomed wigs, and the king of an oriental nation in trunk hose. the improvement, however, must have been very gradual, for garrick is said to have played the part of macbeth ten years later in a gold-laced suit of sky blue and scarlet; while mrs. yates as lady macbeth appeared in a hooped court petticoat of enormous dimensions, with tight-fitting pointed bodice and elbow sleeves, and her powdered hair dressed over a high cushion. garrick's suits for the characters of king lear and hamlet also followed the fashions of the th century, though he played richard iii. in a fancy dress designed with some regard to correctness of detail. even during the present century, an equally absurd anachronism may be recorded. the late mr. charles mathews made his first appearance in public, at the theatre royal, richmond, as richmond in richard iii., wearing the helmet and jacket of a modern light horse soldier. [illustration: a turkish maiden.] the first pantomime or harlequinade was played in england in , and the earliest illustration of an english harlequin in the dress now familiar to us, is to be found in a sketch of bartholomew fair, dated . of the characters of columbine, pantaloon, and clown, we have no contemporary drawings. of the french ballet dancers of this period there are some carefully-executed plates in planché's "cyclopædia of costume." they are all represented in long, and sometimes in trained skirts. the first example of the abbreviated ballet skirt, reaching to the knee, is given in the portrait of an actress personating le zephyr, about the middle of the th century. the peasant costume of various nations has also been adapted to stage purposes with excellent effect. the late hon. lewis wingfield devoted much time to designing the stage dresses of the victorian era, and madame alias--who has also passed away--provided the costumes in mr. calvert's revival of henry viii., and was also responsible for dressing many of the alhambra ballets and the plays at london and provincial theatres. madame bernhardt, miss ellen terry, mrs. langtry, sir henry irving, and the late sir augustus harris have also brought their influence, money, and taste to bear on correct stage costume, with the result that we have had many sumptuously-dressed revivals and new plays, which otherwise might have sunk into oblivion. such spectacles as are often to be seen at our leading metropolitan theatres and music halls, if they fail to touch the public fancy, mean absolute and irretrievable ruin to their promoters; and when it is remembered that many thousands are spent annually in staging theatrical enterprises, before a single seat is booked, it will at once be seen what enormous sums must be involved in furthering dramatic interests. the public, who have for the last sixty years been catered for so generously, are sometimes apt to overlook the difficulties with which the scenic artist has to contend. it would be impossible within the circumscribed limit of a single volume to minutely describe even the most notable theatrical costumes of the last half century, but a few of the most effective floral costumes will be appended for the benefit of those who desire to introduce them into various entertainments. the steady patronage of her majesty the queen and the royal family have done much to remove any prejudices which existed against the drama, and as a powerful auxiliary to education the stage is rapidly gaining ground. dull, indeed, must the theatre-goer be if he leaves without having assimilated some valuable lesson. to shakespeare we owe many ideal types of womanhood, all the more precious now that some of the weaker sex, in an insatiable desire for progress, sometimes neglect those lesser arts which in the past proved to them a shield and buckler. the classical and historical pieces allow us to live again in scenes which occurred when the world was young, and convince us, though the tastes of the people were simpler, human nature, with its passions and aspirations, has changed but little. who can deny the moral influence of such plays as "the sign of the cross," "hypatia," "the daughters of babylon," "virginius," or those of the robertson school, of which "caste" and "ours" are examples? a love of music is not considered a marked trait of the english nation, yet have not italian and comic opera stimulated a desire for a concord of sweet sounds among all classes of the community? such plays as "patience" and the "mikado" have developed our instinct for colour and form, and we are taught the value of industry and restraint when we watch well-trained actors, capable of controlling every gesture, and of charming us with their well-modulated voices. our lives are cheered by viewing the comic side of things, and on our clothing and household possessions, the stage has also laid a refining hand. floral costumes. a poppy. the bodice and skirt of red accordion, pleated _mousseline de soie_, the petals of the flower and belt in bright red silk. large silk poppies appear on the shoulders and bust, and one of extra size is used for a head-dress. with this costume neat black shoes and silk stockings should be worn, and a palm-leaf fan covered with poppies and foliage should be carried. [illustration: a poppy.] lily of the valley. corsage and skirt of white pleated valenciennes lace mounted on green silk. a full berthe of the flowers. white lace hat entirely covered with these blooms, and fan to correspond. moss rose. gown of pink satin, veiled with tulle and flecked with rose buds. a ruche of moss roses at the hem of the skirt and on the bodice. a dolly varden hat trimmed with moss roses and pink ribbon. wild rose. dress of shot pink and white satin, embroidered or painted with clusters and trails of wild roses and foliage. skirt edged with full ruche of pink tulle studded with roses, and corsage trimmed to correspond. _coiffure poudré_ dressed with small basket of roses and pink ribbon. white rose. gown with watteau train of white satin edged with leaveless roses, chains of the same flowers carried across the front of the dress, and outlining the square-cut bodice, and elbow sleeves. ruffles of lace. a wreath of white roses in the powdered hair, and a crook decorated with flowers and ribbon streamers. summer roses. gown of cream-coloured brocade, with design in shaded roses and foliage, trimmed with garland of roses of different tints embedded in tulle. décolleté corsage trimmed to correspond, and a damask rose worn in the hair. wild flowers. dress of pale blue satin, veiled with green tulle. trails of forget-me-nots, poppies, marguerites, buttercups, and grass depending from the waist-belt to edge of skirt, and bodice trimmed to correspond. a leghorn hat garnished with wild flowers, grass, and blue ribbons. gardenia. greek dress of white crêpe de chine, embroidered in classical design with silver. in front diagonal trails of gardenias and their dark foliage arranged from the right shoulder to left side of dress. the hair bound with silver bands. a shower bouquet to correspond. the shamrock. gown of emerald green satin appliquéd with velvet shamrocks of a darker shade. the stomacher a large trefoil in emeralds, and the short sleeves cut to resemble the irish emblem. corsage veiled with green tulle strewn with tiny shamrocks, and a coronet of the same in the hair. the thistle. high dress of eau de nil satin. the skirt edged with a wreath of thistles, which are also embroidered in a bold design on the front of gown and bodice. satin hat trimmed with thistles and ribbon, and black staff tied with thistles and ribbon streamers. dandelion. gown of yellow accordion, pleated chiffon finished on the skirt with trails of flowers from the waist to hem of the skirt, interspersed with the seed pods commonly known as blow-aways. the bodice of pleated yellow chiffon with dandelions across the berthe and clusters on the shoulders. a wreath and aigrette to correspond. iris. dress of white satin, veiled with mauve chiffon, flecked with iris petals. trails of mauve and white flowers tied with bows of satin in alternate shades, and carried across the skirt. square cut corsage to correspond, and elbow sleeves. a muslin cap trimmed with the same flowers. powdered hair. lilac. gown of cream satin brocaded with mauve and white lilac, marie antoinette, white chiffon fichu, and cap trimmed with clusters of shaded lilac and foliage. elbow sleeves with chiffon ruffles. the white satin fan painted to correspond, and caught by a flower châtelaine. the hair dressed with the same flowers, and a twisted scarf of mauve and white chiffon. produced from scanned images of public domain material from the google print project.) a cursory history of swearing. a cursory history of swearing. by julian sharman. "ha! this fellow is worse than me; what, does he swear with pen and ink?"--_the tatler_, no. . london: j. c. nimmo and bain, , king william street, strand, w.c. . contents. page chapter i. at the scufflers' club--a stranger at the gates--a somnolent post-office--the best men in london--a sing-song--"damn their eyes!"--"qui s'excuse s'accuse"--the philosophy of swearing--a retrospect--"when that i was and a little tiny boy" chapter ii. the son of discord--origin of swearing--decline of lying as an art--growth of swearing as a science--the military oath-- religious oath--john the marshall--fustian oaths--legislation begins--"moralité des blasphémateurs"--george fox and margaret fell--oath of the king-maker--oath of the bear-garden chapter iii. "odd's bodikins"--in socrates' thinking-shop--the british shibboleth--don juan--beaumarchais--parny--joan of arc a satirist of swearing--la hire--corbleu et cie.--"jarnicoton"-- "[greek: ma ton]"--'jurons de cadillac'--little king goddam-- sir john harrington--'amends for ladies'--"don't care a damn" chapter iv. why has a dog a bad name?--canine swearing--"jarnichien!"--the cast of the die--dog oath of socrates--a nation of swearers-- aristophanes--the rhodian cabbage--"mehercule"--'ship of fools'--amenities of roman swearing chapter v. mediæval swearing--the monastic teaching--cleric and lay-- robert crowley--mystery of the five wounds--"god's bread!"--in a tuscan studio--stephen hawes--thomas becon--'miroir du monde'--'handlyng sinne'--chaucer's oaths--plantagenet swearing--"ventre saint gris"--a royal scapegrace--"bismillah!" chapter vi. the genius of antiquity--a study in dust and cobwebs--the why and the wherefore of swearing--a swearing _corps d'élite_-- "swear me, kate, like a lady"--the freemasonry of swearing-- lord thurlow--sir thomas maitland--"by jingo!" chapter vii. a bank of swearing--legislation at work--"the sweirer's and the devill"--aberdeen town records--across the border--before the footlights--'magnetic lady'--the wits--colman the younger--a swearing bureau--quarter sessions--statute of william and mary--convictions--a carnival of swearing chapter viii. a saviour of society--joseph addison--a tradesman of the last century--a clerical apologist--swearing in earnest and at play--an explanation offered--blue laws of connecticut-- bobadil--'the rivals'--'covent garden weeded'--brantôme's oaths--eccentricities of swearing--"old harry"--"the dickens"--"the deuce"--"le diable de biterne" chapter ix. utilitarian view of swearing--one touch of nature--the shandean method--code of ernulphus--"sacré froc d'habacuc"-- mr. william barley--philosophy of imprecation--"bloody"--in the low countries--'the man of mode'--swift without his waistcoat--sanglant--retrospect and ending appendix a cursory history of swearing. chapter i. at the scufflers' club. "'our armies swore terribly in flanders,' said my uncle toby, 'but nothing to this.'"--_tristram shandy._ it lay in the heart of bohemia. it was approached through a labyrinth of streets that grew denser and darker as one neared the precincts of the club. could any of the brother scufflers have seen the neighbourhood by day, it would have presented an appearance dismal and sordid enough. dealers in faded wardrobes,--merchants in tinsel and _rouge de théâtre_,--retailers of wigs and fleshings and all manner of stage wares, seemed one with another to have made the locality their home. one missed certainly the bone-sellers and refuse-sifters of the adjacent clare market, and one was spared the cheap cosmetic shops and smug undertakers of the neighbouring soho. but you were recompensed, here in the heart of mid-bohemia, by the all-pervading odour of potations and provisions,--of banquets long past, and of banquets that were yet to come. what wonderful odours are those that emanate from this quarter of the town! the dank vapours of covent garden are sweet in the nostrils of many a cockney reveller. there is no orange-peel so perfumed as the drury orange-peel that has been concentrating its fragrance round the boards of thespis since the days when mohun and hart, and shatterel and betterton strutted on the bare planks of the cockpit. no scent of printer's ink is more refreshing than that which adheres to the yards of flimsy playbill still hawked about by itinerant vendors. but the whole place has through the day-time a blear-eyed, a drunk-over-night appearance. it is like a man who is never at his best until he has supped or dined. from morn till twilight it wears this sullen and uncared-for look. wait until nightfall, and it will positively glisten with lamps and gleam with merriment. no wonder, therefore, that it has been the birthplace of so many of those midnight carousing dens, into one of which we are tremulously seeking to enter. it was what is called a literary and theatrical club, the scufflers. it was literary in so far that the majority of its members lay down at night with unrealised dreams of authorship. it was theatrical to the extent that many a one was the possessor of an unacted drama coiled up in his breast coat-pocket, and was to be seen surging about managers' doors, only waiting the glance of favour to fall upon author and manuscript. nor was this literary impulsion entirely without fruit-bearing. scufflers had been known to rush breathlessly into the club-room at the approach of midnight, and in an excited and panting condition have been heard to sing out for pens and paper, as the morning press would wait for no man. personally the accomplishments of the members were many and varied. the great _primus_ and leader of the club was a man who was alleged to dash off a leading article, take a hand at whist, and tackle a dish of kidneys at one and the same time. we must now be supposed to have reached the entrance of the hostelry, for indeed it was a covent garden tavern and nothing more. we commence to grope our way along the mouldering, unlit passage that gives access to the one apartment tenanted by the club, in which their cheerful deliberations are now proceeding. time cannot efface the memory of that green-baize door at the end of this passage, where we were very properly brought to a stand on that first evening of our initiation. never shall we forget how momentous seemed the issues that were depending in that inner chamber, as the announcement that there was a "stranger at the gates" was evidently being briskly canvassed there. to have the unquestioned privilege of passing and repassing that mystic portal, the barrier as it seemed between all the rhapsody and the syntax of this weary world, promised to be one of those pleasures that would well-nigh be imperishable. the apartment entered, it was easy to discern the manner of men who had placed their mark upon its walls and wainscots. there was no lack of artist force in many of the daubs that were let into the panelling, to remain rugged monuments of the skill of the frequenters of that chamber. a piano there was that had seen better days, and was yet to see considerably worse ones, if in our recollection of the ultimate dispersal of the property of the club we are not mistaken. then there were the pipe-racks. anything more eloquent can scarcely be imagined than the story unfolded by these mute implements of smoking. every pipe possessed its decided characteristic and was distinctly different from its neighbour. some showed themselves as conceited pipes; some were light and sparkish, others ponderous and clumsy. leave yourself alone with these sticks of briar or cherry-wood and you could readily have brought to mind their absent owners,--the man who sang a good song, the youngster given to practical jokes, the patriarch, strong in argument, invincible in debate,--in fact you could easily have helped yourself to an inventory of the members of the club. the rest of the furniture of the room consisted of a large oblong table, surrounded by chairs of various patterns, the former of which on the night we first beheld it literally groaned with the weight of "rabbits" and foaming tankards. stay; food for the mind was not neglected, as how should it be? in that assembly-room. by virtue of the care of a pile of fly-blown magazines, and as far as we can remember of a few odd volumes of 'ruff's guide' and a 'white's farriery,' we became in course of time the elected librarian of the scufflers' club. although not a flourishing community in the matter of finances, there were instances in plenty of great kindness and liberality displayed by scuffler unto scuffler. there were times when they brought out their myrrh and cassia, their spikenard and oil of price. when, one bitter winter morning, an unhappy scuffler came shivering out of the debtors' side of the city prison, they did not beat about the bush and hesitate at receiving him. neither did they stand on any dignity or whisper any threat of expulsion. they did nothing of this kind, they simply made him drunk. it is, we hope, quite clear that these gentlemen were not professors of any sort of austerity. it may have already dawned upon the reader that there can hardly have existed a fraternity boasting any such name as the one we have allotted to it. in this much the reader is perfectly right. the club had a title strikingly similar to that which we have adopted, and the thin disguise has only been suggested from a circumstance that we may at once frankly disclose. suspended over the club chimney-piece was the usual notice-board, a perfect encyclopædia in its way, and covered with a trellis-work of crimson tape for the purpose of retaining the various _affiches_. in this way were displayed, from day to day, the cards and letters intended for the members of the club. for so long a time did they frequently remain exhibited, and so complete a disregard did the owners manifest for their property, that the appearance of each packet often grew quite familiar to the frequenters of the place. the individuality of the writer might be often guessed from the evidence of the various superscriptions, and when all other sources of amusement failed the contents of this stationary post-office formed a fair staple of banter and merry comment. there were to be seen perfumed and coronetted envelopes addressed to quasi-fashionable members. these were gentlemen who never seemed to call and claim their belongings. then there were letters reputed to emanate from the great publishing houses, and there were missives surmounted with well-known theatrical monograms that were alleged to forward brilliant offers of engagements. in fact it was by the aid of such simple nest-eggs as these that the men managed to establish reputations. but there was one class of correspondence that obviously was not intended for much publicity. these were the letters couched in feminine handwriting, none of the neatest, whose tremulous writers, in addressing their envelopes, rarely succeeded in hitting off the proper style and title of the club. the early looker-in might have made a useful study of these shaky epistles,--scrawls painfully executed by milliners and toy-women. it was on the cover of one of such effusions, even worse written and worse spelt than they usually were, that we first saw the inscription, the "scufflers' club." although some years have passed since first we were made free of that circle, distinctly do we remember the manner of our greeting--"this," said our introducer, "is a room rendered famous by the celebrated addison." he emphasised the "celebrated" owing to an evident misgiving that we might not perhaps be intimate with the name of that personage. "kitty clive, the actress," he continued, "lodged in the upper floors,"--which was true--"and dr. johnson is said to have worn away the wainscot with his wig in the further corner,"--which was not. we were already lingering over the notice-board and letter-rack, reminded probably by the associations of a similar contrivance at will's coffee house, when parson swift came in the mornings to seek for letters from stella, when the voice of our cicerone again summoned us. "drop into a seat," it whispered, "and i'll show you the best men in london." the best men in london were engaged for the most part in imbibing various amber-coloured fluids, and shouting out at intervals the burden of a well-known chorus. an entertainment known as a "sing-song" was vociferously going on. vocalisation of a very fair order was being given, whenever any one of the hearty scufflers had sufficiently wetted his throat to "oblige." we were in time to hear the 'friar of orders gray' performed very creditably, and 'when joan's ale was new' brought out a ringing chorus. we must have stayed some hours in listening to this minstrelsy. hospital songs, ditties well-known at bartholomew's and guy's; poaching songs that bore the flavour of the honest shire of somerset; pieces from the comic operas; all were given with the utmost good-humour and vivacity. but what seemed most to invigorate the spirits of the scufflers was a song that had been demanded more than once during the evening and was at length only given after extreme pressure upon the part of the audience. we do not know the name of the song; we are not certain we should recollect the tune; but we are positive of the words, such of them at least as formed the refrain of the melody. in every stanza there was held up to reprobation some unpopular type. the severer virtues were no less mercilessly handled, while all authority of the more invidious kind, from that of the beak to that of the exciseman, was subjected to the same unceremonious treatment. every versicle--well do we remember it--concluded with the exordium, "damn their eyes!" never can we forget the rapturous reception that was accorded to this piece of harmony. the men literally shrieked with delight. "damn their eyes!"--they grasped convulsively at tumblers and decanters and banged them on the table. "damn their eyes!"--they hurrahed, they shouted, they raved, they swore. "damn their eyes!"--they bestrode chairs and benches, as they might have bestridden hobby-horses, and tournamented about the room. was this then the pæan or war-song of the scufflers' club? as with the morning light we came to reflect upon the midnight orgie, we felt we had opened a chapter in a strange history, and that history a history of swearing. we can hardly bring our pen to write the very title of this book without being reminded of an incident that has amused while it has displeased us. it is now very many years ago that a kind relative brought the present writer, then a child at a dame's school, a handsome copy of the 'vicar of wakefield,' and thenceforward for a time that bitter schoolhouse bade fair to be made bright and joyous with the doings of the simple men and women whose story the gentle goldsmith has recorded. what possible objection could be uttered against so innocent a tale? none the less however did our worthy preceptress take occasion to remonstrate. "does not that book concern females?" asked she. our friend could have had no reply prepared that was fitted to so insidious a reproach. "ah! well," was the quiet rejoinder, "but poor goldsmith did not mean badly." if such, then, be the measure dealt out to the more disciplined champions in the strife with human error, what sort of accord will be given to the present unharnessed and ill-caparisoned writer, who attempts, let it be hoped not ill-naturedly, to cope with one of the more rosy-faced forms of sinfulness. that he will be assailed from the higher latitudes of prudery he has a right to expect. that the very novelty of the venture will pass as an affront to some portion of his readers there is only reason to anticipate. that even the more indulgent will cast looks of suspicion upon his pirate ensign is a circumstance he can conceal as little as he can regret it. as the matter stands, a poor devil of an author is proposing an expedition into regions that, despite many hundred years of literary enterprise, are still remote and untravelled. it were not surprising therefore at the outset that his readers should inquire if he is sincere and reliable, or whether on the contrary he is counterfeiting honesty with a sanctimonious face. it were perhaps right they should be assured that the trip is really intended for their welfare, and that the skipper is not given to risk the safety of his craft for a mere capful of wind. but conceding that it is natural to raise these doubts at the threshold of the journey, the author has it in his power to give little or no assurance of the sincerity of his undertaking. whatever notion he may entertain of his own, or of other people's morality, he has no opinion whatever of their professions of it. he refrains therefore from giving any warranty of the soundness of his wares. save but for this. he has often been vexed, and puzzled as well as vexed, at one great discord that has been sent upon the world. yielding and kindly as it may have been to them, men have not scrupled to cast defiance and calumny upon this forbearing earth and to hurl hissing curses at its abundance and its pervading spirit of forgiveness. not since the labour of men's hands began have they ceased to furrow it with menace and sow it with imprecation, cursing while their very corn ripens under midsummer skies, cursing as they gather in their store of wine and victual. what does it mean? what _can_ it mean? whence has it arisen, and whither does it tend? these are among the questions that have influenced the mind of the writer in considering the purview of his book. the misfortune that is often experienced in handling any subject lying wide of the beaten track does not necessarily arise from the inherent viciousness of the subject itself, but from the fact that a large number of people have previously arrived at painful impressions concerning it. it is therefore an obligation cast upon a writer to treat these preconceived notions with the utmost tenderness and respect. personally one may hold the art of swearing in perfect indifference, being neither among the number of swearers oneself nor having any very strong feeling of reprobation towards its more active adherents. but despite a certain inclination that we feel to apologise for what we hold to be the silliest of vices, we are forced to recollect that to many the offence will always appear in anything but a trivial light. it is therefore obligatory upon us to abstain as far as possible from referring to expressions that are calculated to alarm. at the close of the last century there existed a religious sect who were in favour of abandoning the use of clothing. blake, the poet, was one of these enthusiasts, and his wife also. the holders of this convenient doctrine were in the habit of presenting themselves in their households as naked as they were born. in so acting we may be sure they were only in keeping with their sober convictions, and that they were ready to maintain in argument the thorough soundness and consistency of their views. for aught we know to the contrary, this naked doctrine may of itself have been right, but the misfortune which continued, and for the matter of that still continues, to be felt, was that by far the larger portion of humanity retained a decided prejudice in favour of apparel. so long as the disciple of the adamite school was contented to denude himself in his own particular circle there may have been no positive harm, but it would scarcely have been open to a member of that fraternity to have walked down fleet street like an ancient briton. the thinker also who takes upon himself to theorise in a manner apart from any considerable section of humanity, is no less bound to entertain a fitting respect for the notions, even to the mistaken notions, with which that section is animated. whatever his own disposition towards an absolute freedom of expression, he is under the obligation of attiring his ideas in the manner habituated to the tastes of his listeners. happily, however, there is possible a middle course. we need not grovel in the sinks and cellars, neither need we ruminate upon the house-tops. we can settle ourselves as it were, in that easy, neutral smoking-room of literature, where we can put off broadcloth for fustian; and utter our heresies with still a chance left us of being forgiven. here we may expect to meet only with that mature and seasoned criticism that holds the scale very evenly between the outspoken and the insolent. while by no means to be accounted friendly towards the vile excrescences of swearing, the ordinary man of the world is not to be repelled by every street oath, or put to lasting confusion by every passing word of unseemliness. to put it upon no higher ground than that of mere custom, it were too arrogant to assume abhorrence of a practice that is as trite and customary as the incidents of one's daily rounds. besides, there is another explanation for the supineness that is exhibited towards errors of this description. it could be shown how, by a slight mental process, the extravagances and the follies of other men are capable of offering a subtle compliment to a person's understanding. they set it off. they adorn what he fancies to be his intellectual superiority, and he is not indisposed in consequence to extend a feeble patronage towards the very vices which, did he not experience ever so slight a benefit from them, he would otherwise be foremost in decrying. again, it were too obviously inconsistent to take our repose in a tavern and yet direct our homilies at tavern habits, at the enormity of tobacco-smoking or of drinking drams. and yet it may be possible for most of us to go back to no distant time when we sickened at the scent of the finest virginian and the juice of the juniper was bitter. it was not a great while ago certainly! a great while ago! say, courteous and gentle--nay, uncourteous and ungentle reader--can you so far travel back in your recollection as to recall your first parting from all that was homely and kindly and familiar? do you remember the first separation from the half-score of faces that to you had peopled the earth and represented the whole sum and mystery of living? can you now realise that desolate night, closing in upon the blank, colourless day, the lonely stages, the harsh grating of the wheels, all the impressions in fact of that long, pitiful journey that once came as a barrier between you and childish innocence? and then the arrival at that strange school; how hollow the laughter of the men, how shrill the chirp and twitter of the women! do you remember the comfortless morrow that brought the first contact with your boy associates? they were probably harmless and good-natured enough, those uncouth, ill-fashioned boys, and doubtless there were among them many who would have been quick to requite a wrong and eager to soothe any injury. but how they pained you with their jests; how they bruised you in their boisterous play; how old they looked to your young eyes; how full of wiles and intrigue and savagery! and then their talk! not the mild caressing talk of the lips you loved, of the forms you knew, but loud and brazen, and savouring of cunning and high-handedness. and in their quarrels and their games, they swore--those boys swore; not all of them be it hoped, but the great giants and paladins among them who seemed to bear rule and mastery with whips and thongs. many a time before, perhaps, you may have been seized with faintness and aversion at some imagined evil, that might as well have been enacted in some distant planet. but now the horror was no longer slumbering or remote; it was awake and crying at your door. now, and within a few hours, were disclosed the sources of all the aimless brutalities, all the self-asserting iniquities that have played such havoc in an erring world. and, as these knowing fellows chattered over their scraps of worldly wisdom, and as their puny curses were bandied round, it seemed as if some great treason were being poured out, a trespass alike against god in heaven and the folks at home. how could one know at that young age that all one heard was not really villainous, that much of it indeed was mere _brusquerie_, rough-ridden perhaps, but brisk and spirited? how should one understand that the tones which seemed so harsh and jarring belonged in truth to a very code of sprightliness? but a few weeks more perhaps, and you too had taken the ring of this brazen metal. you had perceived upon what measure of aggression, upon what rasping unkindnesses, the applause of your fellows was bestowed. to violate every rule with fearless indifference, to be abreast with every move that was daring or was dexterous, these were the feats by which approval was won. in the matter of swearing you might have remained only an unwilling dabbler, only a mixer and meddler in the luxury, were it not that occasion came when you were solemnly arraigned for the offence, and straightway branded as a culprit. it is in this way that offences come. so you may have received your punishment and have revolted under it; and perhaps you may have had a right to revolt. for our spiritual pastors, in judging of our virtues, too often endowed us with the capacities of children, and in judging of our vices they endowed us with the capacities of men. in that our early play-time, of which we have been speaking, we distinctly call to mind two errant school-fellows, brought together by kindred tastes, though differing in temper and disposition. each is of an age when the world resembles only some may-day morning, and at the moment we are recalling them they have no other occupation than that of dreamily rambling through the fields and lanes, delighted with the breezy country-side, and luxuriating in their own boyish outpourings. they had conceived this mutual liking because each felt the other to be in true sympathy with nature, and to be capable of discerning the wonderful enchantments of poetry and cadence. they had found a warm and unselfish delight in ministering to the other's appreciation. they could drink in great draughts of beauty from the chalice so unsparingly held out by shelley or goethe, by wordsworth or byron. they could revel in the rugged measures of 'marmion,' in the whirl and clatter of the 'last minstrel.' they could be gay with the loves of the two gentlemen, or kindle at the woes of imogen or the sorrows of effie deans. and so, in such senseless manner, they are now skirting the golden harvest-fields, recalling perhaps the bright fancy that has given the 'skylark' to the world, or mindful of "liquid peneus" and "darkened tempe." presently there burst out of the thicket two ruffians, with rags torn and bespattered, caked with summer's dust and mildewed by winter's rain. as they approached their voices sounded devilish and unearthly. they raised one long plaint of deep-toned, hard-set blasphemy. their every word was shotted with an oath. hoarse with brandy, bitter with malevolence, they cursed at the plenty of the harvest,--at the patient cattle grazing in the fields,--at the crimson poppy blowing in the ditch,--at the buzzing insects, at the ripening orchards. they cursed at the luck of the skittle-alley; they cursed at the insolence of the rulers of the land. when the devil made war with heaven, this must have been the roar of his artillery. we looked at our friend--for this has become a personal narrative, as may already have been conjectured--and we marked the pain and sorrow of heart that had visibly overcome him. silently he seemed to implore protection from the great span of universe surrounding us--for it was he who was the gentler and more loyal spirit of the two. then, as the curses and ribaldry died away, he emerged slowly as from beneath a stupefying load. presently he fell to talking of the strange perverseness with which men have always clung to this undying evil, and cited the levitical story of "the son of the israelitish woman,"--the impious oaths demanded of old time by emperors and satraps, and the resistance of the martyred polycarp. who knows but that at that moment we may have thought our friend little better than a fool, and his words the drivel of idiotcy? we have said somewhere, speaking of morality, that we have no opinion of professions of it. it must be known that he was mild and retiring and submissive. he could not give blow for blow as other boys could; he could not cheat or lie or gamble as other boys did. he was more awkward of limb and coarser dressed. anyhow, we have set down here some of our first impressions of swearing, and now we are cursorily writing its history. chapter ii. "now don't let us give ourselves a parcel of airs and pretend that the oaths we make free with in this land of liberty of ours are our own; and because we have the spirit to swear them,--imagine that we have had the wit to invent them too."--_tristram shandy._ when hesiod fabled the god of oaths to be the son of discord, the poet could hardly have foreseen the grim reality that would attach to his satiric allegory. it is now a very small thing--a matter of no consequence at all--that serious and well-meaning men once attested their assertions by making passing reference to minerva or helios. but yet is it none the less necessary to realise that they made such reference for the express purpose of being believed, and that when not pronouncing one or other of these forms of speech, they ran a strong chance of being absolutely disbelieved. hesiod has dimly chronicled the genealogy of oaths. but it was for other generations to chronicle their posterity, to hear them derided in the amphitheatre, and to see the divinities that inspired them shattered and broken down. but there is a singular survival and continuity of the ancient practice: men still swear by jove. a like process of declension seems to have gone on in all countries and in the same fashion. to begin with, the origin of all swearing was the same--the one intense dread of falsehood against which as yet no laws were sufficient to guard. fancy the mortal distress of barbarian man when he first wakes to the belief that his enemies can, by smooth speech, wrest from his hands what his prowess or his labour has acquired. no art that he is aware of can pervert the action of tongues set falsely going. seeing how illimitable is the crop of words, he may even imagine a plague of lies that will fall thick about him like locusts or caterpillars; and then arrives the old expedient. men fasten upon a symbol such, as it is hoped, the hardiest will revere, and syllable it out as evidence of truth. if we are not mistaken, it may even be said that the degree of refinement that a community has attained is discernible by taking as a standpoint the merchantable character of truth. wherever civilisation is advancing, the ultimate unserviceability of lying becomes the more apparent, and there ensues in consequence a depreciation in the value of veracity. the more widely truth is recognised, the more does it deteriorate in price, while falsehood ceases to arouse its former measure of reprobation. then it is, and not, indeed, until then, that the old blundering remedy by means of oaths and oath-taking is laid aside as out of date and no longer availing. nowadays, at least among most races of mankind, the ordinary inducements to veracity are of themselves felt to be sufficiently powerful as to leave no ground for contending that truthfulness should be the subject of rewards and bounties. no money value is attached as of right to the performance of an obvious duty, but in remoter times the recognition of such a doctrine, could it have been recognised at all, would have spared the coffers of roman sesterces and have made the work of the athenian pay-clerks hang lightly on their hands. the fact would seem to be that the prevalency of this deliberative swearing will always be found in inverse ratio to the prevalency of truth. the later civilisations may, therefore, be said to have profited by centuries of untruthfulness in that they have learnt the preponderating advantages of an intelligible code of truth. to seek an illustration by comparison of two periods perfectly dissimilar, it may be affirmed that there was no greater proportion of really truthful men in france at the period, say, of voltaire, than twelve hundred years previously at the period of gregory of tours. but the countrymen of voltaire had become fairly apprised of the expediency of common veracity, and their assertions, in consequence, were not accustomed to be disbelieved. but among the frédégondes, the clotaires, and the cunégondes of gregory's frankish history, the case is wholly different. in that day it might almost be supposed from a perusal of the work that the faculty of truth-telling was lost, or more correctly that it had never arisen, so necessary was it considered to put a statement to the severest test before the possibility of its accuracy could be admitted. in an indulgent, selfish, but disciplined civilisation, a statement is generally presumed to be true which bears the ordinary impress of veracity. in periods considerably less intellectual and enlightened, we shall find that nothing is presumed to be true until it has been subjected to a searching process of corroboration. it is in fact this process of corroboration that has furnished all ranks of swearers with their necessary side-arms and equipment. in the two conditions of society we have just indicated, there is revealed at once the cause and effect of promiscuous oath-taking. the one, incredulous and diffident of belief, imposes oath upon oath as its natural safeguard, and engages in an unremitting struggle to render the bond of truthfulness subservient to a despotic will. the other is weary of forms that have outlived whatever spirit was once imparted them; it has snapped asunder the galling fetters, and made sportive capital of the lumber that remains. an intervening age of irony probably sufficed to undermine the sanctity of the swearing obligation, until at last the oath of more sober times has come to be a common catchword, or the fustian ornament of somewhat spirited talk. in short, we shall always find that the sonorous expletive of recent days is nothing else than the once deliberative oath of christian piety. human ingenuity has seldom been more industriously employed than in attempting to restore successive breaches in the observances of swearing. among the western nations, it is said, religious sentiment had nothing to do with the foundation of the usage. with them swearing is represented to have been of purely military origin, and the oaths taken upon sword and javelin to have owed nothing to the emotions of piety. the process undergone by the military oath of gaul before it finally culminated in an expression of religious import, was of a very slow and gradual kind. the franks were accustomed to appeal to the drawn sword as being the only arbiter of existence. in course of time the sanctity of this engagement was broken through, and to ensure due regard for the solemnity of the oath, it was found necessary to make the weapon the subject of an impressive ceremony. by the capitularies of dagobert, the sword and harness of the warrior were required to be consecrated. still later, the name of god was brought into the compact. "if two neighbours," ordains king dagobert, "are in dispute as to the boundary of their possessions, let them bring into the camp a turf of the disputed territory; and each, with hands resting on the points of their swords, and taking god to be the witness of the truth, shall give battle until victory decides the question." not only was the military oath superseded; but, as years wore on, even these additional guarantees proved themselves to be ineffectual. the interposition of saints next came to be deemed essential, and again with the most conflicting results. when chilperic and his brothers divided the kingdom of clotaire, and swore never to enter the capital except as allies, their treaty was ratified by oaths taken in the name of saint hilaire, saint policeute, and saint martin. as time advanced, these further methods of precaution in their turn proved abortive. chilperic, seizing paris in contravention of his oath, carried as an antidote the relics of more potent and illustrious saints in the van of his victorious army. so dangerous a precedent being once admitted, it became necessary to resort to still other expedients. it was thought as well to ascertain with what degree of veneration the intending swearer might happen to regard that particular member of the calendar whose name was proposed to be invoked. in doubtful cases, therefore, it was not unusual to conduct a deponent from one shrine to another, that among the multitude of oaths one of them at least might prove effectual. a son of clotaire, being plied by a rebel agent with insurrectionary advice, thought it prudent to conduct his adviser before the altars of no less than twelve churches before he felt himself justified in listening to the representations that were offered him. it would seem, indeed, from the practice of half barbarous nations, that so far from the deity, or even the monuments of religion, being the immediate subject of the swearing obligation, these were practically the most remote. during the second siege of rome by the goths, the ministers of honorius were called upon to swear solemnly that they would refuse to entertain any overtures of peace, and would wage implacable warfare upon the enemy. with great difficulty were they induced to confirm this engagement with an oath taken by the head of the emperor. this formula was the most impressive and, in effect, the most binding that could well have been resorted to, and it is reported by gibbon that the ministers were heard to declare that had the same oath been taken by the name of the deity they would have held themselves free to depart from it. in doing blind obeisance to the arms of warfare or the symbols of authority, the ancient world only varied from the modern as the usages of religion differ from those of idolatry. in rome, we are told, the spear was sacred to juno, and in the province of rhegium was worshipped as mars. in scythia the sword was glorified as the messenger of life and death. and it is to be noticed as an evidence of the superstitious sanctity that pervaded warlike implements, that in rome, according to a half-religious rite, the hair of newly-married women was parted with the point of a spear. the oaths, in fine, of the western military nations distinctly breathe of the spirit of war, while those of the more dreamful eastern world are redolent of light and air, of sun and shade. to this day in servia the popular forms of swearing express dependence and reliance upon the powers of nature. _taku mi suntza_, so help me sun; _taku mi semlje_, so help me earth, are the methods of asseveration that are in every-day use. that period in modern history at which the deliberative oath had assumed something of its ultimate shape is marked by the occurrence of one singular invasion of its solemnity. the incident we refer to is the charge preferred by thomas-à-becket against john the marshal, to the effect that he had sworn upon a "book of old songs" instead of upon the sacred writings which had then become the proper instruments for this purpose. indeed, in tracing the history of these observances it would seem as if an endeavour was being constantly made to frustrate the aims and ends of swearing, and that the more christian modes were only resorted to when every pagan method had been found inoperative. to swear upon the authority of everything that was terrible or grotesque--by the sword or javelin of a conquering nation, as by the love-token on a maiden's sleeve;[ ] by the sepulchre of a debtor;[ ] by the abbey church at glastonbury,[ ] or by the price of the potter's field[ ]--these were expedients that had been tried and been forsaken before the modern forms of swearing were reached. like the time-expired worship of the divinities of the mythology that, in the one solitary temple of mount casano, was maintained for some hundred years after the gods of olympus had been deposed: so the impious oaths of pagandom continued to jostle and wrestle with those of christianity for many centuries after authority had pronounced their doom. "olympian jupiter!" exclaims aristophanes, at the mention of that oath, "to think of your believing in jupiter, as old as you are!" how stubbornly the ground was contested may be inferred from the enactments of civil and ecclesiastical law. so early as the ninth century, justinian prescribed the punishment of death for the offence of swearing by the limbs of god. the code that prevailed in the northern districts of britain was more severe than any that was enforced elsewhere in these islands. by statutes of donald vi. and kenneth ii., the penalty of cutting out the tongue was inflicted upon swearers. in france, charlemagne legislated expressly against the practice of impious oath-taking, and by an edict of philip ii. swearers were condemned to drowning in the seine.[ ] the council of constantinople passed a sentence of excommunication upon the swearers of heathen oaths. to how great an extent this unmeaning discord disturbed the current of mediæval life may be seen from an examination of contemporary literature. in particular, we may instance an early fragment that has come down to us, and was evidently intended as a glowing satire upon the prevalence of the abuse. it is called the "moralité des blasphémateurs," and was issued from the paris press in the early part of the sixteenth century. the whole design of the piece is to exhibit the supposed agency of the potentates of hell in proselytising mankind towards the adoption of the most abhorrent blasphemy. satan, according to demonologists once the governor of the north of heaven, is now a feudatory prince in the kingdom of beelzebub. he is presumed to act under the orders of lucifer, the judge of hell, and is joined in his commission by behemoth, the henchman and cupbearer of the infernal chiefs. there is a sufficiency of invective in the opening greeting of these personages that was doubtless calculated to add to the repulsive character of the performance:-- "sathan, ennemy traistre et faulx, où es tu mauldict loricart?" to which satan replies:-- "que veulx tu, mauldict lucifer? que te fault-il, beste saulvaige?" their salutation finished, these worthies proceed to recount the sport they have had on earth. satan has visited the land of france, where he has spent his time in the company of horse-stealers and cattle-lifters, fellows, he assures them, who have no thought for mass or vespers; and he has left them feasting day and night, getting as drunk as herons. this account of his stewardship seems to give but small satisfaction to lucifer, who thereupon bids his followers-- "allez tost par mons et par vaulx faire jurer le nom de dieu a garses et à garsonneaulx en toute place et en tout lieu. c'est une belle operation de jurer dieu à chascun point." this strain of conversation continues through over a hundred pages of closely-printed matter, and is only varied by the exordiums of certain more admirable characters, who are introduced, as we must suppose, to point a moral to the story. the state of feeling disclosed by this offensive farce shows plainly, even at that time, that the public which tolerated it had passed out of a state of mere supineness and had assumed an attitude of disrespect and defiance towards the authority of oaths. the system had been allowed to overreach itself, and thenceforward its set forms and all the paraphernalia that pertained to them were made over to the service of criminality and to the uses of violent speech. the modern practice of swearing, in either its flippant or vituperative shape, is derived from the break-up of the process once devised as a protection of truthfulness and fair dealing. so nearly allied have been the oaths of piety and statecraft with those of violence and malice, that the severer thinkers, whether lollards, puritans, or quakers, have waged a war of extermination against both alike. they have contended, and with some amount of probability, that these jarring expletives of passion and irreligion have only been perpetuated by reason of the familiarity that has ensued from the undue exaction of legal tests. the same stubbornness with which they combated the evil in endless tracts and broadsides they maintained before courts and inquisitions. at the lancaster assizes of , george fox and mrs. margaret fell stood upon their trial for refusing to conform. "i have never laid my hand on the book to swear in all my life," urged the woman. "i do not care if i never hear an oath read, for the land mourns because of oaths." and then appealing to the jury she exclaims: "i was bred and born in this county and never have been at this assize before. i am a widow, and my estate is a dowry, and i have five children unpreferred." there was one device of oath-taking, half pagan and half barbaric, which but very slowly relaxed its hold on christian europe. we have spoken of the oath upon the sword--the oath of ancient scythia, the oath of the antigone of euripedes. in the terrors of an isolated death, remote from all the outward appliances of his faith, the stricken warrior found consolation in raising before his vision the hilt of his scabbardless sword. the tapering metal-hafted blade threw the shadow of a cross upon the dying soldier, and to this rude emblem the poor fevered lips would stammer out their last words of petition. the sword had become a revered symbol conveying to the departing the hope of divine favour and intercession. this thought so powerfully arrested the imagination that it did not relinquish its grasp when a period of security had succeeded a reign of bloodshed and danger. in the traditions of denmark, the oath upon the sword-hilt was preserved in a spirit of deep solemnity. later, in english history, the king-maker took his vows upon the cross of his bared steel, and the custom lingered in effigy to the days of elizabeth, when the fencing-masters, practising their calling at the bear garden, were required to take an oath upon their rapier's hilt to carry themselves honourably in their profession.[ ] the gravity with which this form of conjuration is approached by hamlet's followers is evident from the passage:-- "_hor._ } } my lord, we will not. _mar._ } _hamlet._ nay, but swear it. _hor._ in faith, my lord, not i. _ghost._ (beneath). swear! _hamlet._ ha, ha, boy! say'st thou so? art there, true-penny? come on--you hear this fellow in the cellarage, consent to swear. _hor._ propose the oath, my lord. _hamlet._ never to speak of this that you have seen, swear by my sword." the ground that we have thus far traversed is really one of a remarkable struggle, that has not abated even in our time. it is not the intention of this essay to follow the history of judicial oath-taking, or of the attestations that would seem to be demanded by conscience or religion. but it must be remembered that the subject of vituperative swearing is so interwoven with that of these legal and religious ordinances, that the consideration of them must be frequently forced upon us. but whilst doing so it should be no less borne in mind that we are never really losing sight of the object we have in view. we aim simply at disinterring a neglected, possibly a justly neglected, chapter in the world's social history, and are called upon to judge both of the tree and its fruit, of the seed and the grain. chapter iii. the british shibboleth. "pantagruel then asked what sorts of people dwelled in that damn'd island."--_rabelais_ iv., chap. lxiv. "if ever i should betake myself to swearing," says sir john hazlewood in the play, "i shall give very little concern to the fashion of the oath. odd's bodikins will do well enough for me, and lack-a-daisy for my wife." many other persons have been much of the same mind as this sir john, and, possessing a certain esteem for the pomp and circumstance of swearing, have been impelled to cherish some curious substitute so that they might still get a little harmless amusement out of the vice. in this way they have contrived so to compound with their consciences as to become swearers in practice without being blasphemers in intention. the characteristic of this good hazlewood is his extreme tolerance and neutrality. he is not among the swearers himself, but at a moment of danger he is prepared to join that body, taking service in the ranks. to disown allegiance altogether never for a moment coincides with his sense of the becoming. the worthy man is too loyal to the set rules of his acknowledged leaders, to harbour a notion so subversive and dangerous. and in this particular we shall find he has been followed by the greater number not only of his own degree and class but of all orders and conditions. a circumstance like this would seem to suggest some remarkable underlying motive as accounting for the wonderful omnipotence of swearing. it is possible that an occult virus congenial to its development is so insinuated into the composition of the human mind as to defy the power of ethics wholly to eradicate it. can it be that the habit owes its existence and source of delight to some soothing and pleasureful qualities which, like the solace of the tobacco-leaf or the balm of the nightshade, the world will not willingly forego? we are disposed to think that the instinct of swearing is very deeply rooted in the mental constitution. a very little experience of mankind will incline one to the belief that the censors of morals have on the whole done wisely in temporising with this strange humour. of all the philosophers who of old laid down rules for worldly guidance, socrates may be trusted to have held at a just appreciation the trips and sallies of athenian manhood. and yet even socrates is understood to have sworn deeply and volubly. not, however, the herculean oaths that were resounded in the amphitheatre and at the festivals, but by the names of more despicable objects, by the dog, the caper, and the plane-tree.[ ] the philosopher was too well versed in the ways of headstrong humanity to run exactly counter to all the follies inspired by the grape of chios and lesbos. on the contrary, he gains his momentary end and creates a lasting remonstrance while seemingly sporting and dallying with the abuse. in like manner, aristophanes could afford to trifle with the asseverations of his own athenian audiences. in portraying the wind-paved city of the feathered tribes, he transforms these oaths into the milder shape of "by snares," "by nets," "by meshes." and further to display the ludicrous side of attic swearing, he records a time when "no man used to swear by gods, but all by birds. and still lampon swears by the goose when he practises any deceit."[ ] it would seem almost as if all writers of this indulgent turn had arrived at one perception, namely, that "bad language" is an indispensable element in social life, an element to be only softened by ridicule or perhaps be checked by dissuasion. to seek to suppress it altogether is regarded as futile. the same impression has evidently prevailed among the number of practical philosophers who in everyday life are accustomed to handicap the ebullitions of this impetuous vice. they may place nagging obstacles in the way of its career, and burdens upon its back; but otherwise it is allowed to run its course. by means of an accepted code of rules a kind of _modus vivendi_ in this respect is obtained. thus the conversation that is conceded in a club smoking-room would be intolerable in the boudoir. in some sort men have been permitted the enjoyment of swearing, and that with impunity, provided they did not carry it beyond the prohibited pale. to turn again to ancient athens for illustration, we find that even children were allowed to swear profanely by the name of hercules, but with the single restriction that they should do so in the open air. the oath was for some singular reason deemed the especial privilege of young people, and was only thought offensive and visited with punishment when invoked within the curtilage of the dwelling.[ ] it has always seemed to us that vituperative swearing is too closely allied to the passion of animosity to be ever successfully treated apart from the human failing from which it takes its rise. joy and hatred, terror and surprise must indeed be very old and steadfast emotions in the history of the world; and while we should prefer to find that joy is the more universal of these perceptions, hatred is, we fear, the more historic and the more enduring. animosity is resolute even in its caprices; it has few facilities for disguise and but little capacity for assumption. the tones and gestures it employs are perfectly unequivocal, and not easily mistaken. for although the vocabulary of hatred has from time to time received handsome embellishment at the hands of ingenious and illustrious haters, its wonted expression must always remain fixed. the keynote is the oath which, in all ages and in all languages, passion seems to generate with but very little assistance. among a people who, perhaps unjustly, have been prided for the choiceness of their swearing, the favourite growth and very spoilt-child of animosity is the word of an exceedingly forcible kind. in endeavouring to chronicle the amenities of the british "damn," we believe we are dealing with a monosyllable possessing a remarkable fund of application. the term has fairly puzzled the ingenuity of continental neighbours to comprehend. not only has it excited their ridicule, but we are not sure that it has not even stimulated their envy. it has been said by one of the sprightliest of frenchmen, that a foreigner might conveniently travel through england with the assistance only of this one particle of speech. the uses, or the misuses, of the word would seem to be twofold: first, as an accessory of abuse, and secondly, as an accessory of geniality. in some instances the two qualities are blended. thus the knights of the road who stopped coaches and filched purses on the heath of newmarket or hounslow usually rode off "damning" their victims and advising them to sue the hundred for the injury. whereat it was customary to remark, in the joking spirit of the age, that the villains showed themselves true men of the law by taking their fee before they gave their advice. everyone who remembers the eleventh canto of don juan will recollect the pugilistic conflict that took place upon that hero's first arrival at the outskirts of london, a shower of blackguard oaths taking a conspicuous part in the encounter. juan, weary with travel, has arrived at shooter's hill. he is meditating upon the vastness of the city stretched in panorama at his feet. suddenly his studious occupation is interrupted by the onset of a gang of footpads. in the confusion that ensues, his ignorance of the language places him at a momentary disadvantage. the only english word he is acquainted with being, as he phrases it, "their shibboleth, 'goddamn.'" even this juan innocently imagines to be a form of salutation, a sort of god-be-with-you, a misconception which the poet professes to think not unnatural-- "... for half english as i am (to my misfortune) never can i say i heard them wish 'god with you,' save that way." no stanza of the poem is more replete than this with a vein of painfully sarcastic drollery. the insular failing is elsewhere frequently displayed by the poet in the trying light cast from a misanthrope genius. but perhaps the severest hit, and not the less severe because tempered with banter and good humour, is that which has been directed from the pen of beaumarchais.[ ] "diable! c'est une belle langue que l'anglais; il en faut peu pour aller loin; avec goddam en angleterre on ne manque de rien ... les anglais à la vérité, ajoutent par-ci par-là, quelques autres mots en conversant; mais il est bien aisé de voir que goddam est le fond de la langue." the highest point of wit in this direction must be supposed to have been reached when evariste parny, a poet of no mean celebrity, produced his "goddam! poëme en quatre chants, par un french-dog." this was in the year xii. or, as we now should prefer to call it, . the countrymen, and in one remarkable instance, a countrywoman of beaumarchais, have been particularly industrious in fastening this aspersion upon their english neighbours. so long ago as , when the arms of shrewsbury and bedford had well-nigh wrested the last jewel from the diadem of france, and a peasant maiden of the calvados had flung herself into orleans to stem the tide of the english advance, there likewise came to the aid of the fainting cause a welcome supply of mirth and invective. the maid of orleans, inspiriting the beleaguered army by harangue, by entreaty, even by quips and jests, kept them constantly reminded of the insular nickname. rising from sleep and putting on her armour to direct the memorable assault upon the tournelles, a soldier of her command ventured to produce a repast of fish, and prayed her to break her fast. "joan, let us eat this shad-fish before we set out." the maid indignantly put aside the proffered gift, "in the name of god," said she, "it shall not be eaten till supper, by which time we will return by way of the bridge, and i will bring you back a goddam to eat it with." how the redoubtable tournelles was taken by steel and culverin, and how joan succeeded in bringing back many hundred goddams, has become matter of history. as to the conclusion of the maid's career, there has been opened a wide field of controversy, but one incident in the closing chapter of her life is supported by reliable testimony. while undergoing close imprisonment pending the decision of her fate, two english noblemen, the earls of warwick and stafford, came to visit her in gaol, and would seem to have held out hopes of ransom; joan, irritated at the specious language of her visitors, retorted on them sharply: "i know you well," she cried, "you have neither the will nor the power to ransom me. you think when you have slain me, you will conquer france; but that you will never bring about. no! although there were one hundred thousand goddams in this land more than there are!"[ ] with the assumption of the soldier's tunic, it did not follow that she adopted the manners of the military fire-eater, or suited herself to the wild talk of camps. the epithet "goddam" in the mouth of la pucelle was expressive only of acrimony towards the oppressor, and even assuming it to have been irreverent and ungainly, was not the least in accord with the language that usually distinguished her. so far from condoning the irregularities of military life, joan seems to have laid her strongest commands upon the soldiery to abstain from oath-taking, and in one instance would appear to have made a convert of an illustrious kind. stories are told, which we need not here repeat, of the licence in expression of the celebrated la hire, who may be likened to a boanerges among swearers. with him the habit was perfectly indispensable. at last joan came to a compromise. he was to retain to the full his privilege of swearing, provided he referred in his oaths to no other substantive than his marshal's baton, and thenceforward this sturdy soldier betook himself to this emasculated form of swearing. according to an authority that is entitled to credit, a very similar subterfuge would seem to have been attempted at a still earlier period of french history. the courtiers of louis ix. were wont to indulge in what may be described as a very flippant and volatile description of swearing. the indignation of their master, the beloved st. louis, may of itself have been no inconsiderable punishment, but a still worse one was provided in the statute-book, which prescribed the penalty of branding the tongue with a red-hot iron upon every commission of the offence. the oaths which at this period were the cause of the greatest mortification to the saintly king were the _cordieus_, the _têtedieus_, the _pardieus_ and the numerous offshoots, the effigies of which still survive in the pages of rabelais and molière--the "moyen de parvenir" and the "baron de foeneste". with the airy nonchalance of practised sophistry, these apologists of swearing conceived a device that to themselves at least proved eminently satisfactory. at this time there was at the palace a pet dog, known by the name of bleu. to elude the harsh sentence of the law that might for ever deprive these gay swearers of the power of taking oaths, they determine to substitute for _dieu_ the name of the favourite dog. thus _cordieu_ became corbleu and _têtedieu_ became tÊtebleu, and so on throughout the entire series. unlike the rigid st. louis, a later french monarch, henry iv. was himself a notorious offender in this respect. on every occasion of annoyance, he was heard to give utterance to his favourite oath "jarnidieu!" to him once came his confessor, coton. "sire," said the confessor, "it is a great sin to mention the holy name in these terms." "you are right," said henry, "in future i will say 'jarnicoton.'" it is singular to turn for a moment from the extravagant exuberance of a polished french court to find the same device existing in a very different era of the world's history. the educated athenian vented his "mon dieus" like any frenchman on the boulevard, and in like manner learned to soften his "[greek: ma ton theon]" to a simple "[greek: ma ton]" in deference to ears polite. socrates himself, never altogether free from a predilection for jocose forms of swearing, also took the palace dog, so to speak, as his colloquial stalking-horse, and, like the courtiers of st. louis, swore [greek: nê ton kuna]. the framework of the story dealing with the conversion of la hire has not been lost upon the writers of the theatre. a _petite comédie_ well known on the boards of the théâtre français as 'les jurons de cadillac,' is occupied with the sufferings of a naval officer who is constrained by feminine influence to relinquish his customary expletives. "how is it," asks la comtesse, "that you have contracted this horrible habit; you, a scion of an old stock, one of our first gascon gentlemen?" cadillac's answer is spirited. "comtesse, i was brought up by my grandfather, an old sea dog, corbleu! with him i learnt to swear before i learnt to read, and if he has not taught me the language of courts, it is because, sacrébleu! he did not know it. he made me a true sailor, ventre mahon!" the comtesse insists that, as a proof of the captain's professions of regard, he should abstain from indulging in this habit for the space of one single hour. should the ordeal be successfully passed, she consents that he shall receive her hand as his reward. cadillac is fairly driven to desperation. "ask of me anything but that!" he exclaims; "only let me swear, or i shall go mad!" finally he sees no help for it but to accept the challenge, and the audience is detained in a state of amusing suspense while witnessing the contrivances with which the honest captain endeavours to overcome the difficulty. he tampers with the hands of the clock in the hope of abridging the hour of trial, and this ruse being discovered he unworthily seeks safety in sullen silence. "no, no, captain," objects the comtesse, "unless you converse it is not fair play." his tormentor lures him with all her skill to let slip one of his unpremeditated expletives, and a hundred times the worthy fellow is on the point of giving way. at last, beguiled into a description of one of his most thrilling sea-fights, and with the recollection of the wild scenes of carnage passing vividly before his eyes, he is no longer able to maintain composure. he bursts into a volume of his old sea terms, but the lady, moved, as it would seem, by the _élan_ and spirit of the recital, finds it in her heart to be merciful. the play concludes with a modest _sacrébleu_, this time spoken by la comtesse. it will be seen from the evidence of this performance alone that in ascribing to our nationality a monopoly of energetic language, public report has hardly been discriminating. not desiring, however, to turn the tables upon our aspersers, we propose to still further pursue the fortunes of the britannic shibboleth from when we left it upon the lips of la pucelle. the aspersion cast upon the english on the picard battle-fields continued to be handed down in camp story and in rugged _vaux-de-vire_. neither did it cease to provoke derision and merriment when it had entered into the common parlance of the paris cabaret, and became the stock property of the palais royal farce.[ ] the "goddam" that greeted british officers rollicking through the city of pleasure in the days succeeding waterloo was the same term of opprobrium that assailed the english archers at agincourt and honfleur. to what "mute inglorious" satirist we are indebted for this lasting compliment we shall probably never now determine. the word is at least discovered in the collection of norman ballads subjoined to the 'vaux-de-vire' of master oliver basselin published at caen, . this work dates from the early part of the sixteenth century, but has reference to the events of the preceding one. it more particularly speaks of henry v. as dying _par le mal de st. fiacre_ and of henry vi. as ascending the throne. it is the latter monarch who is referred to in these verses as "little king goddam"-- "ils out chargé l'artillerye sus mer, force bisquit et chascun ung bydon, et par la mer jusqu'en biscaye aller, pour couronner leur petit roy godon." we might search in vain for mention of the expression in english writings of the same period. in france however the epithet is repeated with equal malignancy in the angry verses which guillaume crétin was pleased to write upon the 'battle of the spurs': "cryant: qui vive aux godons d'angleterre. * * * * * seigneurs du sang, barons et chevaliers, tous seculiers d'illustre parentage, permettez vous à ses godons, galliers, gros godaillers, houspalliers, poullalliers, prendre palliers au françoys heritaige?" the aspersion however did not always rest with frenchmen. lord hailes, in a criticism written about the year , incidentally gives it as his experience that in holland the children when they espy any english people say, "there come the goddams," and that the portuguese, as soon as they acquire a smattering of the tongue, exclaim, "how do you do, jack? damn you!"[ ] we have attentively considered the tone of contemporary english writings to ascertain whether by a hazard the nickname was appropriately bestowed. in the result we have not been able to discover anything to lead to the supposition that this particular form of speech was, upon these shores at least, very generally indulged in. either the tall soldiers who accompanied henry of monmouth to the wars were so stimulated by the unaccustomed juice of the grape as to then and there originate this vigorous epithet, unspoken at home, or else there was little or no justification for the taunting expression. we are inclined to think that the former surmise is approximately correct. the habit was not an englishman's but a soldier's vice, and when the foreign troubles were at an end it may very well have been drafted back to this country with the rest of the fighting contingent. although in its usage it is now considered essentially british, there is no reason to impute to it any other than an etymology decidedly french. its similarity with the numerous derivatives of the verb _damno_ have probably obscured the true derivation of the word. for its real parentage we must have recourse to the latin _dominus_ or _domina_ which produced the gallic _dame_. this again was used equally to denote a potentate of either sex, until at last we find the interjection _dame!_ applied in the same sense as _seigneur!_ or our own _lord!_ when, therefore, we go still further, and meet with _dame dieu!_ occurring frequently in ancient texts we are helped at once to the source of our adopted expletive. by one of those combinations so often to be found where there is a confusion or admixture of tongues, the english soldiery rendered their _dame!_ or _dame dieu!_ in the way we have seen, and a hybrid term was thus produced which has not even yet been found waning in popularity. the derivation we have here suggested is sufficient of itself to account for the amusement that was displayed by laughter-loving frenchmen, who twitted the invader in that he was unable to pronounce the irrepressible _dieu_, and was forced to anglicise it to fit it to the remainder of the oath. it will be perceived that, taking this view of the case, the british shibboleth is rather more of a shibboleth than has previously been supposed. it is true that in a scarce work we find it is recorded that the expression originated with richard iii., but this is easily confuted by the examples we have given. the 'comedy of errors' contains one isolated allusion to it:--"_god damn me!_ that's as much as to say, god make me a light wench." here the term is dearly interpolated as a kind of newly-coined catchword. we suspect that the true era of the oath being absorbed into common speech is indicated by a passage in the epigrams of sir john harrington. this work, which appeared in , is much concerned at the abusive element that had at that time entered into english conversation. no longer, says sir john, do men swear devoutly by the cross and mass, or by such innocent oaths as the pyx or the mousefoot. now they invite damnation as their pledge of sincerity. "goddamn-me," he repines, had then become the customary oath. this appears to us to be the first intimation of the fact that we find in english literature.[ ] neither was amusement neglected to be created out of this new word-sally. in one of the comedies which throw so much light upon the manners of the time, a piece called 'amends for ladies,' from the pen of nat field, we are introduced among a so-called society of roarers. the experiment had been already tried by thomas middleton, who, in his 'faire quarrel,' had initiated his audience into the exercises of a pretended roaring-school. the notion was simply that the young idlers about town met together to acquire perfection in the arts of bombast and exaggeration. in the former production, a lord feesimple is supposed to be enjoying the coveted distinction of being drilled into becoming a roarer. as was usual in these performances, the characters pass from one insolence to another, until at last swords are drawn and general uproar prevails. but what upon the present occasion has given rise to the misunderstanding, is the unlucky assumption by feesimple of one of the roysterers' private and particular oaths. in an ill-omened moment he has presumed to exclaim, "damn me!" whereupon a certain tearchaps who has been noticeable through the play as the improprietor of the term, very loudly objects--"use your own words, damn me is mine; i am known by it all the town o'er. d'ye hear?" feesimple, although disposed to contest the other's title, is happily brought to order by the timely interference of one welltried, whose knowledge of such matters enables him to bear out the truth of the assertion. this play, produced in and acted upon the stage of the blackfriars, tallies in substance with harrington's verses produced in the earlier year. allied to this expression is a phrase which may even be said to have a kind of literary merit. "don't care a damn" is indicative of about the utmost possible amount of unconcern. it would be in vain to seek for any object more intrinsically inconsiderable with which to liken a condition of indifference. anstey seizes upon it in his 'bath guide':-- "absurd as i am, i don't care a damn either for you or your valet-de-sham." but curiously enough this figure of speech was originally as independent of the "shibboleth" as we have seen that was of the classic "damno." there is in india a piece of money of the minutest value, which is known as a _dam_. the phrase, therefore, so far from originating in a fanciful comparison, really does nothing more than announce a prosaic fact. it has been said that the expression was occasionally used by the "great duke," a circumstance for which the indian experiences of the victor of assaye has been held sufficient to account. mr. trevelyan, indeed, in his 'life of lord macaulay' (ii. ) states positively that the duke of wellington invented this oath. etymology, which has thus brushed away what one might have taken to be a thoroughly characteristic expression, also supplies a matter-of-fact explanation for another modification of the phrase. "don't care a curse," or "not worth a curse," we might fondly imagine to possess something of poetic imagery. the learned in derivations undeceive us. they say that the word _curse_ is here identical with the plant "cress." in that sense, "not worth a curse" will be found in piers ploughman's vision, the remarkable work of the fourteenth century. * * * * * since the days when city madams and fleet street apprentices flocked round the dusty scaffold of the blackfriars play-house, and laughed and rallied one another, or possibly took passing umbrage at the satire that was being levelled at this newly-nurtured word, what a remarkable, what an astounding ascendancy has it not enjoyed? no mint has ever issued its metal more swiftly than has this exchequer of bad language, or given it a more unmistakable impression. and yet there is nothing healthful, nothing good in it. from the disorders which first environed it, it has never yet recovered. it lives only by disease and unhealthiness, and when it has rid itself of disease and unhealthiness it will die. chapter iv. which gives a dog a bad name. we have already adverted to that foreign and slanderous tradition which lays all the grosser sins of vituperation at the englishman's door. it has been seen how the "damns" and "goddams" of a marauding soldiery, though scattered upon the winds of many centuries ago, have continued to be held up in judgment against the english-speaking race. there remains to be noticed one other item of continental asperity that has enjoyed in its day a full measure of approbation owing to the delightful assumption that it savoured of perfidious britain. parisian caricaturists have always affected to believe that the inhabitants of these islands are usually accompanied in their travels abroad by some member of the canine species. the british bull-dog has figured again and again in pictorial skits that are supposed to represent the idiosyncrasies of the travelling englishman. but the notion may very well be of older date than this period of facile illustration. examples can be quoted of the occurrence of the word dog, or _dogue_, as a malediction similar to that of "goddam," and at a date nearly as distant.[ ] there can be little doubt as to the inspired origin of the phrase. so grateful is the demon of animosity for every new-shaped weapon of attack, that in course of time it came to be levelled indifferently at any object whether insular or otherwise that it happened to be the speaker's intention to abuse. the inoffensive word was the more readily adopted by the classes who had least notion of its signification. as dr. johnson, when he wished to get the better of a fishwife in a wordy encounter, would call her a parallelogram or a hypothenuse, so the seine boatmen and the market-women of the halles would denounce their antagonist as a "_dogue_." "je laisserais plutôt ma roupille en gage," exclaims one of the characters in the farce of 'piarot et janin,'[ ] "que de te laisser payer mon quartier. la dogue! tu ne me connais pas." what actual necessity can there have been for so invidiously employing an imported word, when the french equivalent was already firmly established as a particle of abuse? although in our own vernacular the epithet "dog!" is seldom to be met with outside the histories of miss porter or of mr. james, elsewhere the gallic "chien!" has always been in brisk demand. both before and since the composition of 'piarot and janin,' has it been customary among a numerous class to grind it in the teeth of persons who have been the cause of annoyance or affront. in conjunction also with other substantives, it has served as a powerful degree of comparison and denotes a superlative expression of contempt. in the most polite language, _quel chien de temps_ indicates weather of a most deplorable description; _quel chien d'auteur_, an author whose stupidity is exasperating. the oath of _jarnichien!_ passed for a term of the very darkest complexion; while in _sacré chien_, we have an expletive as forcible as any that a frenchman can utter. the romans of old are said to have played with two sorts of dice, the tali and the tesseræ. the tali had four even surfaces, the tesseræ six. on opposite faces of the four-sided figure were marked respectively the numbers one and six, the numbers three and four appearing respectively on the other surfaces. the tessera, or six-sided figure, bore on its additional faces the numbers two and five. both tali and tesseræ were usually knuckle-bones of an animal, frequently the gazelle; the uneven ends being planed smooth in the case of the tesseræ, while for the tali they were left in their natural condition. the game admitted of various rules and of various degrees of skill, and it would seem that the more ancient greek sculptures represent the children and maidens of athens manipulating the tesseræ in much the same manner as school-boys still play at the game of knuckle-bones. but whatever element of dexterity may have originally pervaded the pastime, it was very rapidly dispelled, and both tali and tesseræ became, as they have since remained, the instruments of wagering and gain. the best throw, called the venus, only happened when each of the upturned surfaces presented different units. the worst throw was when the four pieces exposed the same number on each, and that number an ace. this single pip was technically known as the _unio_, the side of six as the _senio_; while the name by which the throw of four aces was chiefly distinguished among the gamesters of antiquity was the _canicula_ or _canis_. "jure etenim id summum quid dexter senio ferret scire erat in voto, damnosa canicula quantum raderet." _persius, sat._ iii. the deduction has been drawn that the player, baulked in his luck, and turning angrily upon the prone dice as they disclosed the four upturned aces, sought passing relief by hurling at them an insensate malediction. in this way, after a long interval and by a slow process of development, the _damnosa canicula_ of the roman gamester is said to have become, or more strictly to be represented by, the _sacré chien_ of a nearer civilisation. the force of association has so indelibly connected the mention of this animal with whatever is inferior or contemptuous, that there is at first no room for surprise at finding it used in its present application. so imperceptibly has this turn of thought entered into our habits of mind, that, without further inquiry, such an application would appear perfectly natural and proportionable. but upon the very slightest reflection a sense of inappropriateness cannot fail to be forced upon us. surely the nomenclature of the animal world is sufficiently varied as to admit of the dishonour done to it being more equally divided. one would expect to find the members of the canine family at the least no more than sharers in the distinction in common with other creatures of the brute world. but no such equal distribution would appear to prevail. the question therefore that remains is, how it is that the name of the most sagacious of animals should be universally identified in the vernacular tongue with whatever is the most ignoble and despicable of its kind? the wild rose is called the dog-rose, the scentless violet the dog-violet; bad latin is termed dog-latin; and in ovid we have _verba canina_ as denoting abusive conversation. although the author of gallus goes the length of saying that among the ancients the names of the lower animals were seldom heard as particles of abuse, the opprobrious application of the name of the dog will be found to be most classical. the use made of the word in the conversation of ancient greece should be in easy recollection, bringing down as it did upon the athenian people the accusation of being their popular oath of asseveration. socrates, we are to believe, rarely used in his swearing any other form of expression. "by the dog! polus," he is made to exclaim in plato's 'gorgias,' "i am really in doubt each time you speak whether you are stating your own views or are asking my opinion."[ ] when, therefore, we find in the twelfth century an archbishop of juvavia interdicting his countrymen from ratifying their treaties with an oath taken by the dog, we gain some insight into the portent of the canine oath of thebes and athens. the superstition and mysticism attaching to this animal are brought still closer home by a passage from de joinville, which mentions the sacrificing of a living dog as a byzantine method of confirming an obligation. moreover, on the coins of syracuse the dog as the emblem of constancy is represented in company with the goddess diana. that a sacrificial ceremony, barbarous at once and ineffectual, should have received any countenance among a people of culture, is only in accordance with the view expressed at an earlier part of these pages, that the progress of true civilisation may be clearly traced by comparing the relative values of the veracity. the cities of greece were full of straw-shoes, men who distinguished their calling by a straw at their feet, and who were ready at the bid of a suitor to give the lightest evidence for the heaviest fee. confidence had little place among a nation far too volatile and specious to be able to rely upon any system of reciprocal good faith. from this circumstance it was that the greeks earned for themselves the repute of being the least trustworthy of all the untruthful nations of antiquity. in such a community the fragile safeguard of an oath is, from sheer helplessness, the more rigorously demanded. the hellenic people may be said to have been eminently a swearing people. the character had so persistently clung to them, and was descended from so remote an antiquity, that juvenal, in the sixth satire, can only refer their immunity from swearing to the period when innocence was said to have prevailed upon earth and before jupiter had begun to let his beard grow. but while greek and roman riveted oath upon oath and laid ceremony upon ceremony, to accomplish that simple understanding which should be effected by the mere parole of right-thinking men, there is no evidence to show that swearing was carried to the precise point to which it has been brought among ourselves. that at the lightest stir of the emotions they were ready to apostrophise the ruling divinities as well as the shapes of field and flood, of earth and air, must pass as uncontradicted,[ ] but never do they appear, as in the modern world, to have forged their poetic oaths into weapons of malevolence and hurt. there would seem to have been no actual counterpart in these languages to the vituperative swearing of modern days. the difference in this respect is somewhat singular, but it may readily be accounted for. with the ancients, oaths were employed in guarding as efficiently as they could the public conscience and the public security. with the moderns they have been for the most part released from this unstable duty, and accordingly, with untrammelled energy and ungovernable vigour, they have entered upon a system of privateering upon their own account. not only had the ancient mythology to struggle against the constant infraction of the sanctity of the deliberative oath, but the minds of heathen votaries must have been strongly biassed by an acquaintance with instances of light swearing in the gods themselves. to render the practice the less capricious and incontinent, a notion of an individual property or trade-mark in oaths came to be perceptibly encouraged. the specific appropriation of some distinctive oath raised the presumption that it implied an unequivocal pledge of sincerity. in this way zeno, the founder of the stoics, swore continually "by the caper." pythagoras, we are told, was accustomed to swear by the number four, [greek: ma tên tetrakton]. this numeral came to be regarded in consequence as symbolical of the divinity, and the pythagorean school gravely inculcated it as a point of morals to abstain from intruding upon so illustrious an example. besides the oath of socrates, "by the dog," he is reported to have sworn variously by the goose and by the plane-tree. those who argue in favour of the piety of the philosopher, explain that the habit was assumed as a foil to the irreverent mention of the gods that was then so universal. lucian attaches an intelligible meaning to these flippant expletives, and represents socrates as justifying their use. "are you not aware," he is presumed to reason, "that the dog is the anubis of egypt, the sirius of the skies; and in hell is the keeper cerberus?" and plutarch is also found to comment on the oath, "those that worship the dog have a certain sacred meaning that must not be revealed; in the more remote and ancient times the dog had the highest honours paid to him in egypt." in the copiousness of the ancient swearing the notion of an oath accommodated itself to all the varieties of monstrous gods. the divinities isis and osiris were invoked in witness of a sacred pledge no less than the garlic, the leek, and the onion, and indeed every other deity which, as was said by the roman satirist, grew and flourished in the market-gardens of alexandria. we are admitted to a just appreciation of the levity of athenian swearing through the medium of one of the most remarkable performances ever placed upon the stage, whether of the modern or the ancient world. when, returning from an expedition, socrates repaired to the theatre to witness aristophanes' comedy 'the clouds,' he found himself portrayed upon the scene as the central figure of the drama. he was even represented swung up in a basket in his own thinking-shop and giving utterance to innumerable heresies and follies. when strepsiades offers to swear by the gods, he is at once interrupted by socrates in the basket, who reminds him that the gods are not current coin in his system of philosophy. "by what then do you swear?" asks strepsiades; "by the iron money, as they do at byzantium?" unhappily the query remained unanswered. the result, however, of the socratic influence is intended to be shown by the circumstance of strepsiades subsequently swearing "by the mist!" and reproaching his son for taking oaths in the name of a deity of the outside world. presently, on being importuned by a creditor for the return of twelve minæ lent for the purchase of a dapple-grey horse, he is ready to swear any number of oaths "by the gods" that he is innocent of the debt. his opinions have in the course of this short dialogue undergone alteration. he feels justified in ridding himself of his obligation to repay the loan by making use of declarations which the philosopher has argued are no longer of any consequence. "and will you be willing to deny it upon oath of the gods?" screams the creditor. "what gods?" asks strepsiades. "jupiter, mercury, and neptune." "yes, by jupiter!" rejoins strepsiades, "and would pay down, too, a three-obol piece besides to swear by them." it must have been a sorry spectacle to have beheld socrates in the midst of an athenian audience solemnly witnessing this masterpiece of buffoonery, and a still sadder one to those whose feeling was still enlisted upon the side of the moribund system of oath-taking. one singular instance of whimsicality in the ancient practice of swearing must not be allowed to pass unnoticed. the levantine merchants trading with the port of rhodes had familiarized athenian households with a most excellent description of cabbage. the herb was only to be found in its highest perfection upon the southern coasts of the mediterranean. this rhodian cabbage had a mellower flavour than that indigenous to the troad, and was, moreover, prized by all athenian topers as the surest antidote to the effects of drink. no supper-table would have been perfect without some preparation of this delicacy, and the gay revellers knew, or in any case imagined, that with this nostrum close at hand the choicest chian or lesbian vintages might safely be defied. hence it was that the very name of so precious a vegetable came to be held in estimation, until it was customary to say that if it were permitted to blaspheme without offending the gods, it would be by mention of the rhodian cabbage.[ ] the lover in a fragment of the lost poet ananius invokes it solemnly in evidence of his attachment, and there is found a suggestion in the iambics of hipponax of the vegetable having even entered into the mythology-- "he, falling down, worshipped the seven-leaved cabbage, to which, before she drank the poisoned draught, pandora brought a cake at thargelia." this oath by the cabbage became in time the favourite expletive of ionia, and having winged its way westwards, still lingers in the shape of the exclamation _cavolo!_ as a popular phrase of modern italy. specific forms of swearing were in a great measure localised in the ancient world. as the thebans swore by osiris, the ionians by the cabbage and the colewort, so also in athens minerva formed the staple of the national oaths. no roman citizen was heard to swear by castor. why there should have been this denial upon the part of those who swore freely by pollux is not easily explained. but while the roman women were loud in the use of "mecastor"--the affix _me_ being supplied to adapt the name to swearing purposes, the men abjured that oath as scrupulously as the women in their turn ignored the expression "mehercule."[ ] hercules himself, so the story went, was known to swear but one oath in the whole course of his life. in recognition of such singular forbearance, the roman children were instructed never to make light use of his sacred name. the prohibition, however, extended no farther than the four walls and curtilage of the dwelling, and they were free to make what use they liked of it out of doors. an instance of oaths being subjected to the like whimsical conditions is noticeable in the domestic manners of old germany. we gather from the popular mediæval satire, the 'ship of fools,' that a code of rules had been formulated regulating the propriety of swearing. society in this case would seem to have formed its precedents of oath-taking, and to have withheld its sanction from any others than its own. there was a time in germany it appears when a man adopted an oath as deliberately as he might take to a trade, it being only necessary, to bring it within the licensed pale, that it should be derived from the symbols of his own or his father's occupation. the particular merit of this system was that while it partook of all the abandonment and conferred all the enjoyment of swearing, it was practically no swearing at all. when, in an outburst of passion, the grazier called out upon his beeves, or the smith invoked his anvil or his sledge, all the advantages of swearing, whatever they may be held to be, had been accomplished, and that without prudery being ruffled or innocence shocked. in fact the needs of society had invented a kind of stalking-horse for blasphemy, and the bob acreses and captain absolutes of that day must have found themselves cruelly hoodwinked by the inanimate effigy of swearing. but while northern nations were conspicuous for the substantial and ponderous nature of their oaths, the roman yielded to none in the multiform versatility of his adjurations. caligula owned a horse that he not only treated as a fellow-being and brought to meals at his table, but whose name served him wherewith to pronounce his accustomed oaths. the same emperor is reported to have put to death a roman citizen who refused to swear by his "imperial genius." another of the oaths prescribed by command of caligula was "per numen drusillæ." this wretched woman he constrained his subjects to worship as a divinity. to explain this partiality for the use of these absurd if not impious oaths, it would seem that a tradition had been circulated, ascribing the duration of his own lifetime to the period during which the oath should pass current. any attack of illness that happened to the emperor was directly attributed to the waning popularity of the oath. nor was the doctrine strange to many of the nationalities over which the roman sway extended. we have it distinctly occurring among the scythians,[ ] and it has more recently been noticed by travellers as existing among half-barbarous tribes. the oath itself was probably a development of the affirmation that has been used more than any other in the history of the world. the _life_ or the _head_ of the ruler of the chief tribesman, or of the spiritual prophet, has invariably furnished the true standard of affirmation. but even as a mere domestic oath, the _head_ of the goodman of the house seems to have been permitted a degree of solemnity-- "per caput hoc juro, per quod pater ante solebat." _virgil_, Æn. ix. . chapter v. "he swore by the wound in jesu's side."--_coleridge, 'christabel.'_ we may now turn our backs upon the luxuriant and fanciful swearing of the ancient world and pursue our researches into one other division of the subject that gives rise to more serious reflections. the diversions of the roman and the greek in the way of imprecation seem to have been mostly intended in good part, and to have been productive of little theological odium. but there is a body of swearing that has diffused itself through christian countries which is the very reverse of sportive, and has undeniably provoked the strongest feelings of aversion. the abuse to which we allude consisted mainly in the indiscriminate use of popular oaths that selected the limbs and members of christ as the paraphernalia of swearing. there does not appear at the present day any great irreverence in the exclamation, "s'light," or "s'lid," or "bodikins," as, happily, the wave of impiety that brought them has long since broken and passed away. indeed, as they now occur in the pages of sixteenth century writings, they only strike the modern reader in the light of so many interruptions from the text. but we shall find as we pursue the inquiry further, that there was a great deal of meaning wrapped up in these expletives, and that they played a by no means unimportant part in the workings of the mediæval understanding. whatever may have been the malignities laid to the charge of the later middle ages, it is certain that the englishman was on the whole of a reverential type. the pious moralist who laboured in those times was so far assisted by an utter absence of captious criticism to honeycomb his teaching, and by the solid sense of appreciation that was wont to fill the minds of his listeners. he was practised, moreover, in the exercise of two potent influences that he was ever ready to exert. the one may be said to have had its root in his hearers' fund of ready sympathy, the other in their ghostly apprehension of horror and dread. it is not at all surprising that in later times we should find an opaqueness to have obscured the clear crystal of these subtle perceptions, for fear and pity have no longer the same ascendancy in a busy world. but at a period more piously illiterate, things of this shadowy nature were linked very closely to objects of a material kind. a long process of reasoning could then be saved by reference to some obscure picture of monkish fancy. and so, in the glooms and twilights of mediæval life, the moralist might insure speedy victory by overwhelming men's intellects by an appeal to the formidable images of terror and compassion. the pre-reformation englishman, stricken and toil-worn, having no hope save in forbearance from the skies, and no consolation but in the repose of the ale-house, could yet be awed and subdued by the apprehension of some priest-directed shape of ghostly terrorism. above all, he had been made to grasp a sentiment, which, slightly as it can be treated in a secular work, may be said to have left no adequate imprint upon the protestant world. by dint of the monastic teaching, he had been brought to entertain a keen personal realisation of the actual sufferings of christ. the fact is self-evident from every fragment of contemporaneous literature intended to react upon the fears and sympathies of uncultivated men. it was the constant presentment of the notion of the divine agony, the daily calling to remembrance of the thorns, the nails, and the hyssop, that was relied upon to keep alive in those poor agued souls some struggling flame of spiritual vitality. and so surely was the spark wont to kindle, and so reverently was the similitude of these priestly images treasured up, that they formed the mainstay of the ploughman's faith, the sum total of the poor man's theology. from this cause it arose, as there is now every reason to suspect, that the country was at one time inundated with a torrent of the most acrid and rasping blasphemy. it would not be difficult to trace the relative connection between the luxuriance of oath-taking and the various forms of religion under which oath-taking has successively flourished. it could be shown that the swearing of most catholic states is of greater fertility, and displays a readier fund of invention than that of countries brought under the reformed faith. the more religion appeals to the senses, the more fecund has been the vocabulary of oaths. the more it has been made the subject of illustration and imagery, the more finished and ornate have been the comminations in use. a priest-ridden nation, such as the spanish or italian, has always been eminent for its proficiency in blasphemy; and as part of the argument it may not be out of place to mention the instance of the hedge-parson in the 'fortunes of nigel,' who, by reason of his superior knowledge of divinity, could swear with greater volubility than any of his associates. thus it was that, labouring under the ban of priestly exaction, and confronted on all sides by the ghostly emblems of wrath and condemnation, there descended upon england in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, a torrent of the hardest and direst of verbal abuse. not mere words of intemperate anger came bubbling to the surface, but sullen and defiant blasphemies, execrations that proclaimed open warfare with authority and a lasting separation from everything that was tender in men's faith. imprecations were contrived from every incident in the narrative of the crucifixion. the limbs and members of the slain christ were made the vehicle of revolting profanation. the didactic writers of the time, no less than epic poets and sprightly versifiers, give full testimony to the prevalency of the offence. the laureate, stephen hawes, lydgate, chaucer and the "moral gower," all are alike loud in their expression of horror and renunciation. among the later writers replete with instances of the scandal is the epigrammatist, robert crowley, who enumerates a lengthy catalogue of expletives current in his day. although by the time crowley appeared upon the scene the language of blasphemy had become a little softened by the admixture of rather more innocent particles, as "by cock and pye," or "by the cross of the mousefoot," the author still finds it necessary to record a set of hard, grating oaths pronounced by the "hands," the "feet," and the "flesh" of christ. to refer, for instance, to the use of the one word "zounds!" this strikes us now-a-days as anything but a very solemn or a very momentous form of adjuration. but in unreformed england--the england that still adored the _genetrix incorrupta_, and had earned among the devout the title of our lady's dower, it was absolutely impossible to surpass in blasphemy the hideous import that had been imparted to the user of the word. it was in fact nothing else than a rebellious and mutinous rendering of the once sacred oath taken by the wounds of the redeemer. there are few who can probably now realise the conspicuous place then occupied in the catholic worship by the legends relating to the five several incisions in the body of christ. the monkish representations of the wounds were depicted in countless rosaries and books of hours. confraternities were formed in the church for their greater veneration. there were occasions when papal absolution was specially extended to those worshippers who paid their devotions to the wound in the side of christ. the so-called measurement of them was even preserved in families, and was reputed to be a charm.[ ] in the great northern insurrection of , known as the pilgrimage of grace, the five wounds was the badge under which york and lincoln farmers marched to avenge the spoliation of the monasteries. such was the oath in the days of the last king henry. its more modern application scarcely requires illustration, but if any such were needed, we might find it in the villainous lines which lord byron wrote in connection with a certain trip on board the _lisbon_ packet. to the present hour, in italy, the popular oaths are in close alliance with the romanist faith. the ordinary exclamation "_per l'ostia_" is the equivalent of "god's bread!" that so long did duty in england of the pre-reformation era. a modern traveller has noticed how distinct an impress has been set upon italian swearing by the particular notions of heavenly beings that are inculcated by the national creed. a workman in an art-studio was heard vociferating in such terms as "_per christo_," "_per sangue di christo_," "_per maladetto sangue di christo_," whereupon the following conversation occurred:-- "do you forget who christ is, that you thus blaspheme him?" "bah!" replied the man, "i am not afraid of him." "who, then, do you fear?" "i'm afraid of the madonna, and not of him." the fact was that the mother of god was the sole being the mind was brought to esteem with feelings of veneration. christ was only the _bambino_, or infant in arms, and nothing more.[ ] the state of feeling that still prevails in italy should go far to explain the presence in pre-reformation england of this widely-spread body of irreverent swearing. with the reformation, however, the contagion was shortly to abate. the severer authors at the close of the sixteenth century do not have to complain so bitterly of these jarring elements of vituperation. in the literature of the stage there is a marked improvement: in none but the earlier of the elizabethan comedies do the characters accentuate their meaning by reference to the grossest description of blasphemy. when expletives occur they are generally in the spirit of derision and lampoon. as the writings of the stage grew more robust, the custom altogether wore away. it may, indeed, be held that the subversion of the catholic religion was mainly, if not entirely, accountable for the change. there is certainly a marked distinction between the oaths of the outgoing and incoming creeds. but if we have been finally spared from the ravages of the infection, we may attribute our deliverance to that reserve of reverence of which we have spoken as possessed by english laymen, and to the pious devices that were practised upon it by the inferior orders of preachers. the position they chose to assume in combating this "fine old gentlemanly vice" is a singular feature in its history. their method was to associate the practice of swearing with the notion of actual bodily pain being occasioned to the saviour. they made it appear that christ in person was put to extreme physical agony on every occasion of its committal. not alone did they assert the wantonness and hardihood of so directly incurring the divine displeasure, but they raised the most piteous appeal to the compassion of these benighted swearers. it was daily proclaimed from their pulpits that the profanity in this one respect of professedly christian men had worked a sharper and more agonising martyrdom than that formerly designed by the jews themselves. in countless broadsheets, no less than by pictorial illustration, the wounds of christ were portrayed as hourly re-opened, and the sufferings of golgotha renewed from day to day. the doctrine gained additional credit when transferred from the hands of monkish authors and embraced by popular and captivating pens. stephen hawes, own poet to carpet-knights and buckram soldiery, brought home conviction to a class of offenders that a whole consistory would not have succeeded in convincing. in a rhyming pamphlet, prefaced by a figure of the bleeding christ, hawes depicts with awful realism those sufferings which, as he believed, were being actually and bodily inflicted.[ ] the author of 'bel amour' describes the feet and hands of christ as literally pierced anew, and every member torn and lacerated by reason of the imprecations of unheeding christians. at this time of day it might be difficult to ascertain with any certainty the origin of this forced view of the iniquity of swearing. so far as concerns printed literature, we discover it for the first time in the doggerel of the poet hawes, but it is none the less traceable to that encyclopædic work of the thirteenth century, the 'miroir du monde.' this takes us to the year , and instances could be furnished showing its regular passage through the next three centuries, until the monkish notion is at last surrendered and delivered over to the cleansing fires of the reformation. the last of the english authors who seems to have seriously advanced the theory is to be found in the rigid disciple of asceticism, thomas becon. becon was a man who, throughout a devout and severe life, had set himself sternly to the task of rebuking the immoderate lawlessness of the orders among which he lived. the rustic usage of collecting round the village tavern to celebrate the sabbath in sport and holiday was one particularly repellant to the mind of becon, and held by him to be the mainspring of all the evils that ravaged the country-side. the fore part of the day having been devoted to the services of the church, it was usual for a time of high festival to succeed the morning's austerities. noon discovered all the grown men of the village assembled round the vintner's door and partaking of the ale-house hospitalities. here feats of rude strength were performed, wrestlers practised their throws, and sturdy fellows played bouts at quarter-staff. foot-races were run upon the greensward for wholesome wagers of barley-cake, and games of hazard were conducted under the shelter of the ivy-bush at the publican's threshold. bets were staked, dice were rattled, and yokels learned to place the dues of the harvest-field upon the fortunes of the winning or losing colour. when, therefore, after earnest and fruitless entreaty, the good becon rushed into print and produced his learned 'invective,' he did not omit to visit with uncompromising censure the chartered licence of this sunday festival. the riot and pastime that on every seventh day had been wont to disturb the quietude of rustic life appeared to our reformer as a direct encouragement to the practice of swearing, and in fact as constituting so many training-schools for the cultivation of this unwelcome accomplishment. in the hope of rendering the habit positively forbidding to the more impressionable among his readers, he reminds them how the body of the saviour is actually torn and mangled by reason of the imprecations hurled at him in these country sports. oaths, he deplores, were then used in every matter of chopping and changing, of bargaining and selling, and he groans to think how the "dicer" will swear rather than passively submit to the loss of a single cast, the "carder will tear god in pieces rather than lose the profit of an ace." it is a feature that must be very palpable to the student of incipient literature, that when once an original and daring notion was fairly launched upon the world, it was not allowed to founder for want of repetition. the peculiar mode of thought which we have ventured to ascribe to the 'miroir du monde' in the thirteenth century, could boast a long line of exponents in the interval that closed with thomas becon. the writer to whose industry, rather than invention, english laymen were indebted for their acquaintance with this painful doctrine was a certain dan michael, described as a brother of the cloister of saint austin. this person has produced a didactic treatise based upon the model of the famous 'miroir,' an original from which no writer at that time felt himself justified in departing. with the subject of swearing he deals in a way that is highly painstaking. not to mention the intricate distinctions which he treats under these several heads, we find that he has grouped the offences of the tongue into no less than eight cardinal divisions. it may be curious to record the titles as our author enumerates them, notwithstanding that it is scarcely to our purpose to follow him through the niceties he has created. the branches of the subject, according to his classification, would therefore seem to be: "ydelnesse," "yelpinge," "bloudynge," "todiazinge," "stryfinge," "grochynge," "wyþstondinge," and lastly "blasfemye." so far as we have mastered the system of dan michael we are driven to the conclusion that the practice of swearing, as understood in the cloister of saint austin, was, save for the outward distinction of dress, much the same as prevails in the later world. "for there are some," says he of the cloister, "so evil taught that they are able to say nothing without swearing. some swear as if smitten with sudden pain. others swear by the sun, the moon, by the head, or by their father's soul." minute as is dan michael in his treatment of the subject of abuse, his elaborations are possibly surpassed by the next competitor for moralistic fame. robert of brunné, who produced a similar work in the year , availed himself largely of the other's labours, while he enriched his collections with recitals of wrong-doing from his own exclusive stores. from the "handlyng sinne," as the production is called, one may gather considerable insight into the state of prejudice existing at the time. the neighbours tell one another good stories in church time, and inquire during the sermon where they can get the best ale. the monks have become so luxurious that they refuse to shave their heads and have commenced to array themselves in fine clothes. the king's courts are crowded with supplicating suitors, craving for redress from the extortions of trustees and executors, and yielding themselves victims to the falsity of the men of law. swearing, at that time, would seem to be no longer the prerogative of laymen, but even to have become the privilege of learned clerks. to depict what, from this author's point of view, were the fruits and consequences of blasphemy, brunné enters into a narrative describing the mother of god presenting the bleeding jesus to the gaze of the rich man dives. the latter inquires the reason for the child being gashed with wounds. in reply the virgin points out in terms of keen resentment the injuries inflicted upon the infant by the swearing of dives and his associates. the doctrine of the 'miroir' is then introduced in full to demonstrate the infamy and inhumanity of the practice, the whole concluding with a promise of repentance on the part of the sinful man. this fable is only one among many others that were narrated with a view to curbing the propensities of blaspheming swearers. the work that contains it met with general circulation at the commencement of the fourteenth century, but that the spread of the iniquity was not sensibly abated we may infer from other sources of information we have mentioned.[ ] in , the evil was set forth in the light of a national grievance, and was paraded in a broadsheet published in that year entitled a "supplycacion to kynge henry the eyght." such, then, was the ponderous metal that passed current as the swearing of pre-reformation england. these verbal projectiles were sometimes moulded, however, of a lighter calibre, and when employed in the talk of priests or women, were so nicely rounded off as to incur little of theological displeasure. chaucer's people, in particular, are very punctilious in the propriety of their oaths; good sir thopas swearing mildly "by ale and bread," and madame eglantine naming holy saint eligius as the patron of her vows-- "there was also a nonne, a prioresse, that of hire smyling was ful symple and coy, hire grettest oath was but by st. eloy." in much the same way did princes and dignitaries of the land single out some swearing cognizance that might befriend them in the everlasting conflict between lies and honesty. edward i. sanctified his oaths by the mention of a brace of milk-white swans, and whoever will consult st. palaye will find that the peacock and the pheasant entered largely into the codes of chivalry as bearing witness to the truth of a statement. edward iii. followed the lead of his grandsire in the selection of his gage of testimony. at the festival held in to celebrate the creation of the order of the garter, his cognizance was the swan, adorned, moreover, with the swearing motto: "haye! haye! the whyte swan! by godde's soule i am thy man." the tradition that st. paul was the saint that richard iii. was wont to conjure with, has found expression in the tragedy of shakespeare. faithful to the popular notions of the usurper's characteristic, this form of oath has been placed upon gloucester's lips at each impassioned outburst. henry v., in his wooing of katherine, gallantly invokes st. denis to aid him in his attempts at love-making. but the chronicler who seems positively to have had an affection for the oaths the memory of which he is recalling, is the historian brantôme. upon this unimpeachable testimony we learn that the oath of louis xi. was _par la pâque dieu_, an affirmation that scott avails himself of in his portraiture of that monarch in 'quentin durward.' this was succeeded by the _jour de dieu_ of charles viii.; by the _diable m'emporte_ of louis xii., and the _foi de gentilhomme_ of francis i. among the gascon oaths of henry iv. the most usual was _ventre saint gris_. as for charles ix., adds brantôme, he swore in all fashions, and always like a sergeant who was leading a man to be hanged.[ ] the question has frequently been asked who was intended by the cognomen saint gris? the answer accorded by le duchat, a savant learned in such matters, is that saint francis d'assise was the person indicated. it is true that saint francis was _ceint_ by a hempen girdle, and, moreover, was clad in a habit of _gris_. but there nevertheless seems no reason to suppose that any individual personage was suggested, or, indeed, as has been stated, that the oath was of a huguenot character. says m. charles rozan,[ ] who has had occasion to refer to this subject, saint gris is purely a creature of fancy, and was constituted a patron of drinkers, as st. lâche was a patron of idlers and st. nitouche of hypocrites. the oath of william rufus, _per vultum de lucca,_ has raised conjectures as to its probable signification. the literal meaning, "by saint luke's face," being rejected as not very intelligible, there remain two distinct explanations: one that it referred to the face of christ as painted by st. luke, the other that the portrait of christ as preserved in the cathedral church at lucca is the object intended. to support the first derivation, credence must be given to the legend which places the apostle among the artist craftsmen of judæa, and has enshrined him as the patron saint of all workers in the arts. on the other hand, there has reposed for some centuries at lucca a miraculous crucifix, famous alike for the marvels it has seen and accomplished. the tuscan people set great store by the possession of this relic, and have engraved a representation of it upon their coins. the inscription upon the tuscan florin, "sanctus vultus de lucca," would seem, therefore, to be identical with the expletive of william rufus. we have seen how the occupants of the throne have usually comported themselves in the matter of oaths, but there is one recorded instance of plantagenet royalty having created a singular precedent. if any man can be said to have ever had cause for swearing, henry vi. might be described as being that individual. it is stated, however, by contemporaries who had opportunities for conversing with this king, and by whom it is given as a somewhat remarkable fact, that he was never known to swear under the greatest provocation. the adage that enjoins us to repeat "no scandal about queen elizabeth" should dispose us to deal lightly with any verbal excesses committed by the virgin queen. it would appear, however, that the moral atmosphere of her court, despite the intellect and talent that adorned it, was not so refined or particular but that the sovereign and the ladies over their breakfasts of steaks and beer could ring out exclamations that to a later generation might appear of rather an astounding character.[ ] to turn for comparison to the era of the next female majesty, it is questionable whether even sarah jennings, with all her power of abuse, would not have taken exception to the flavour of some of the elizabethan adjectives. a story is told of edward vi., that at the time of arriving at the kingly dignity he gave way to a torrent of the most sonorous oaths. the pastors and masters charged with the well-being of the royal youth could not but stare in blank astonishment at the conduct of one so well nurtured as the child of anne boleyn. it transpired, however, that the young king had been given to believe by one of his associates that language of the kind was dignified and becoming in the person of a sovereign. edward was asked to name the preceptor who had so ably supplemented the course of the royal education. this he instantly and innocently did, and was not a little surprised at the severe whipping that was administered to the delinquent.[ ] the predicament in which the royal child was placed is similar to that which once befel a clerical gentleman while travelling on mule-back across syria. the syrian muleteers are, it seems, accustomed to urge onward their beasts with the shout of "yullah!" or "bismillah!" and it was under the escort of these shouting and belabouring drivers that the traveller made his way into the town of beyrout. his friends naturally inquired of him what progress he had made in arabic, and in reply he told them he had only acquired two words, _bakhshish_ for a present, and _yullah!_ for go-ahead. he was asked if he had used the latter word much on his way. certainly, he said, he had used it all the way. "then, your reverence," replied his friend, "you have been swearing all the way through the holy land." chapter vi. "when a gentleman is disposed to swear, it is not for any standers-by to curtail his oaths."--'_cymbeline_,' ii. . in the study of antiquity there are steep and irregular by-paths that defy the traveller every step that he pursues them. it is in threading these tortuous windings that many a fearless venturer has lost foot-hold and been utterly cast away. many a man with the passion for antiquity deep at his heart, and with limbs well girded to attain to the summit of his aim, has been fain to settle down, jaded and dispirited, at mid-task. he has accomplished nothing perhaps beyond the mere reading of an inscription or deciphering of a medallion, but the spirit of his insight is dimmed, and stricken in the work. thus has it been with many generations of seekers and inquirers. the _virtuosi_ and _cognoscenti_, the curious in gems and medals, in brasses and torsos, the commentators and concordancers,--all these may be said to be nothing more than so many units in the lost tribe of eager scholarship. starting confident of probing to the very source and mystery of things, they have rather preferred the shelter of some attainable evening refuge than be overtaken in their task by the chills and storms of night. it is easier far, means not being wanting, to place in one's cabinet some matchless group of capo di monti, some priceless specimen of the fabric of sèvres or dresden, than to tax one's strength in extracting the lessons conveyed by form and colour. it is a simpler matter to be the possessor of damascus sword-blades or aleppo prayer-rugs than to burden one's self with reflections upon oriental chivalry or mysticism. and so, again, it is a far readier, as it is certainly a rougher, way of being in sympathy with antiquity, to notch off a fragment in the acropolis, or carve one's name among the ruins of the forum, than to originate such poetic passages as byron uttered over the field of marathon, or longfellow in the market-place of nuremburg. say what we will, both forms of veneration arise alike from the same innate craving to grasp some part or parcel of the tissue of the past. to the untiring few who have overcome the drought and dust of the up-land journey, the summit, once attained, will disclose many a point and promontory unsuspected by the purblind dweller in the plain. the retrospect will reveal to them a busy, thronging life underlying the serenity of history. they will be able to range the perished multitudes in their once motley grouping, to restore warmth and colour to lineaments long obscured in death, and greed and alacrity to the sunk eyes and folded hands. to those whom the spirit of the past is apt to visit as a passionate inspiration, the mere record of consecutive events is often wearisome. it is not altogether for this that they have laboured to catch some murmur, however slight, of the infinite harmony that is being sounded by all, the chords of history. rather, it is to tramp mistily along from generation to generation in the long, forced march of human life. rather, to probe to the depths of some one of the world's stupendous follies, of some one of its golden vanities, that they have thus cast about them with measure and lead-line. and when they have completely searched out and written of the world's stupendous follies, they will perhaps have written what alone would be worth calling its history. as some small, tentative contribution to the understanding of this under-life, the plan of this volume has been designed. the past has come down to us cloaked and shrouded, and attended by its decorous retinue of mutes and bearers. we are continually seeking to revive this dead past, just as it was, when its future was a wild, inscrutable thing, and its life was so fragrant, so masterful, and so momentous. it wants a great mental effort to recall events that are as indubitably past as if they had never happened at all. the pleasure of possessing, or of even entering, the vanished territory is a privilege so rare, that there are permitted but a few moments for its enjoyment. it is so subtle a perception that even seasoned historians seldom have the power of imparting it. they may surround us with the conflict of contending legionaries, until we seem to recognise the thud of advancing battalions and the clash and impact of the squadron. these, however lifelike, are impressions of a much grosser and more tangible nature, and can have but little in common with the blended sweetness and irony that pertain to the spontaneous realisation of the dead past. what we are for ever craving to learn is something more of the gambols, the humours, and the anticing of this sad army, for ever on the march. we yearn to know something more of the vanity and the pettiness, the fever and the longing, of those weary men and women, the memorial of whose lives has been trampled out. the historian will sometimes rend away the veil that separates us from this unwritten history; but more often it is the creation of the romancer that helps to clothe the dim spirit of the past from the loom of its misty memories; pascarel, depicting the splendours of the artist-life of florence, while arlecchino and the rest of the gay carnival troupe are romping in the faded street of the stocking-makers; slender and shallow and the simple folk of the cotswold country ambling out their jests midst the turmoil of those stirring lancastrian times; or "sweet anne page," provoking and winning, three hundred years ago, in the glades of windsor forest. the honest yeoman who fought the master of fence--three veneys for a dish of stewed prunes; the foolish justice who in the days of his youth had beat sampson stockfish behind gray's inn, and had heard the chimes at midnight, lying out in the windmill in st. george's fields--these and many kindred types represent to us so many factors in that prodigious army of the unknown that is never permitted us more thoroughly to know. it is indeed in the fancy of shakespeare that this bygone sweetness and irony seem the oftener to be kindled and awakened. not, certainly, in the wordy warring of capulet and montagu; not, perhaps, in the outspoken chivalry of "harry the king," or the blunt generosity of falconbridge. but we find it moving and thrilling in every tone caught up from the english country-side, in the echoes wafted from the vintage-lands of france, or the garden walks of padua. and freshest and daintiest of all, we find it in the poet's snatches of song and rugged bursts of minstrelsy. this indeed is the enchantment that subdues us as the dimpled page advances to the gay theatre lights, and pleading the woes of three hundred years ago, and exhorting now as he exhorted then, bids "sigh no more, ladies; ladies, sigh no more." it is this which captivates as the scene pauses and the drama halts, that the eye may be carried back through a vista of three centuries to dwell upon a simple "lover and his lass" as they wander "between the acres of the rye." the subject of swearing the writer has come to regard as one of the many indices by which the paths of our ancestors may be traced. holding in fitting estimation the monuments of their industry and their prudence, none the less may we seek to view the departed generations in their hours of carelessness and frolic, and may peer into their casinos and their tiring-rooms, their spital-houses and their bridewells. what manner of men were they? we ask. were they sparkling and festive, tellers of rare stories, dealers in racy jokes? were they wholesome in their living, manly and courageous in their lives, or were they loose and liquorish, winking at falsehood and cajoling the truth? and if the monumental record of their virtues be a just one, why did they heirloom on posterity this bitter heritage of swearing? the truth would seem to be that in every society there has existed a certain _corps d'élite_, which, distinguished at once by its breeding and its brusquerie, has perversely thought fit to adopt the insignia of swearing as its own particular device. in advancing this explanation of the fidelity with which posterity has exercised its watchfulness over the bequest of swearing, we must not for a moment be misunderstood. it is far from our purpose to associate good breeding with the use of coarse vituperation, but at the same time it is impossible to overlook the fact that swearing has mostly owed its favour and its audacity to the practice of really cultivated men. the first contrivers of our modern methods of swearing took pains to raise an air of mystery and exclusiveness around their favourite art. "to be an accomplished gentleman," says carlo buffone, in ben jonson's comedy,[ ] "have two or three peculiar oaths to swear by that no man else swears"; and it would seem to have been one of the gravest charges brought against the hectors and bobadils of the elizabethan stage, that they dare assume acquaintance with courtly oaths. even hotspur is portrayed by the dramatist as a most precise and scrupulous swearer. it may be seen how he reproaches lady percy for swearing "like a comfit-maker's wife," and bids her "swear me, kate, like a lady as thou art!" and not to mince her oaths like some city madam or seller of gingerbread.[ ] for upwards of two centuries, the notion of finish and exclusiveness in oath-taking afforded constant merriment for the stage, the creations of the playwright seldom failing to give full scope to the illustration of this strange humour. every period brought its particular oath and fresh generations of exponents. now it was the soldier of fortune returned from encounters with the spaniards or the turk. anon it was the tavern rake of king james' day, and after some interval, the wits and foplings of the restoration. by-and-by, there followed the crowd of nabobs and parvenus, the blustering swearers of the days of east indian speculation, and finally came the truculent swabbers and commodores of adelphi melodrama. the _nouveau riche_ of the younger colman, who fails to enrobe himself with dignity by the aid of all ordinary resources, is enjoined by his more practical helpmate to vent his "zounds" and "damme," in emulation of the swearing of the great. for this _corps d'élite_ of which we have spoken have drawn to themselves men the most worthless, and men the most admirable. it has found disciples in every capital--the easy, the affluent, the voluptuous, cheery and sunny of speech, bold and swarthy of countenance. there are numbered among them free livers and free lances innumerable. there are men remarkable for their stores of boisterous animalism, no less than delicate scholars remarkable only for the brightness of their fancy and the vividness of their dreams. they have ever been a composite and a cosmopolitan crew, some shouldering into the ranks by the weight of their purses or the length of their rent-rolls, others by skill evinced at high midnight, when taper-lights throw pale vertical rays upon a refreshing margent of green cloth. among them, too, are stout soldiers, bold fearless riders, the wild and fevered blood of many countries, the fervour of italy, and the craft of the levant. to the precincts of this gilded and splendid society come many sorts and conditions of aspirants. the boy-parson lays down the sanctity of the priesthood and rapturously sues for admission. elders of threescore demand an entrance upon the strength of _risqué_ stories sprung from garrison-towns and college common-rooms. skilled physicians feign indifference to their calling that they may smack of the kennel and the hunting-field. staid, contemplative men, men with a prayer and a tune in them, press into this joyous throng, eager to clasp the bruised fruit of human desire and to claim kindred with these cheery fellowships. but, however varied the elements of the order, the members are constituted alike in this: they are hearty and laughter-loving; they are jolly and courageous. with outposts so widely distributed, it is the more necessary that there should be some unmistakable uniform, that whether it be in a paris ordinary, or on the steppes of tartary, one may easily recognise the scion of the order. such a uniform, so at least we are constrained to understand it, has, for the most part, been supplied by a subdued and discriminate use of the materials of swearing. a sandwich islander appreciates this when he salutes a british crew in terms compounded of oaths and ribaldry.[ ] he is really intending to denote his sense of the distinction of the exalted visitors, when he exclaims: "very glad see you! damn your eyes! me like english very much. devilish hot, sir! goddam!" it is to claim kindred with the brotherhood that swell surgeons vent their "blasted!" and "damnation!" as they tender to the ailments of rackety young patients. it is to bridge over the gulf between carelessness and propriety that even mild college tutors will sometimes venture upon a modest "botheration!" or "confounded!" the most fertile and most voluminous swearer, we have been given to understand, exists in the person of one of the leading _littérateurs_ of the century when desiring to curry favour with a company of fast men. not that it can be altogether denied that there are other contrivances whereby the members of the fraternity succeed in courting mutual recognition. the topic of sporting is, perhaps, the most effectual of these, and it must be understood that a man's convivial condition is often undergoing a crucial investigation when he is questioned as to his views upon such subjects as the cesarewitch or the cambridgeshire. the several processes of swearing would seem however to supply the readiest hall-mark, and are rather of an easier manipulation. this theory of indulgence might go far to explain the leniency of men like jonathan swift towards a custom which, had they wished it, they might have deposed from its high places by their ridicule. swearing was far from being a rock of offence to the society of harley and st. john. why else, again, has it been permitted from commanders of the stamp of picton in the field, and from lawyers of the pattern of thurlow on the woolsack? "i will now proceed to my seventh point," pursued sir ilay campbell, arguing an interminable scotch appeal in the house of lords. "i'm damned if you do," shrieked lord thurlow, and the house adjourned neither angry or scandalised. and again, how else explain the exuberance of the duchess of marlborough's language when calling at lord mansfield's lodgings? his lordship, as we know, was away, and on his return questioned the doorkeeper as to the name of his visitor. "i do not know who she was," replied the man, "but she swore like a lady of quality." of thurlow it has been said that he was renowned as a swearer even in a swearing age. "he took it as a lad who wishes to show that he has arrived at man's estate. he could not have got on without it."[ ] at one time a dispute was pending as to the right to present to a vacant benefice. a certain bishop who claimed the right sent his secretary to argue with lord thurlow, who, for his part, obstinately maintained the counter-claim of the crown. the envoy no sooner opened his case and made known his message, than thurlow cut short all further argument. "give my compliments to his lordship, and tell him i will see him damned before he present." "that," remonstrated the secretary, "is a very unpleasant message to deliver to a bishop." "you are right," replied thurlow, "so it is. tell him i will see myself damned before he present." another professor in the same uncompromising school of hard swearers would seem to have been sir thomas maitland, his majesty's lord high commissioner administering the government of the ionian islands, at that time and long afterwards under the british dominion. sir charles napier relates that on arriving at corfu to enter upon a military appointment, and being ushered into his excellency's presence, he was received with a sullen "who the devil are you?" and on explaining his business, sir thomas rejoined, "then i hope you are not such a damned scoundrel as your predecessor." sir thomas seems to have been in the habit of dealing out abuse the most flagrant towards those with whom he was brought into contact. "on one occasion,"--we may follow sir charles napier's words,--"the senate having been assembled in the saloon of the palace waiting in all form for his excellency's appearance, the door slowly opened and sir thomas walked in with the following articles of clothing upon him: "one shirt, which like tam o' shanter's friend, the cutty-sark, "in longitude was sorely scanty." "one red night-cap, "one pair of slippers. "the rest of his excellency's person was perfectly divested of garments. in this state he walked into the middle of the saloon, looked round at the assembled senators and then said, addressing the secretary, "damn them, tell them all to go to hell."[ ] what reception this outburst provoked from the assembled notables we are not informed. when thurlow once at a dinner-party administered a similar admonition to a blundering man-servant, telling him he wished he was in hell, the terrified man wearily replied, "i wish i was, my lord! i wish i was." there can be little doubt that the practice of gentlemen "damning themselves as black as butter-milk" was intended to overawe, and on the whole it has answered the intention. it is however but a cheap substitute for authority, and belongs of right to a rampant jingoism of a past age. we are here reminded of a kind of oath which, having conferred a nick-name upon a political party, seems likely to pass into the language in some altered form. the "jingos," as will be remembered, were the faction in the country who favoured an aggressive policy during the recent russian war. the name came to be given them from a circumstance of quite an insignificant kind. at a certain london singing-room a patriotic song happened to be nightly delivered, in which the vocalist emphasised his warlike utterances with a constant recurrence of this oath. the radicals seized the moment, and in a short space of time the term "by jingo" was pinned to the backs of the tory party like a tin kettle tied to a dog's tail. men soon began to ask themselves where first they could have met with this undignified expression? the 'ingoldsby legends' seemed the most likely ground, only that readers of goldsmith referred to the example of the town-bred lady who, when introduced into the vicar's family, swore "by the living jingo!" moreover, the term is to be observed in the earliest translation of don quixote (iii. vi.): "by the living jingo, i did but jest," and in rabelais (v. xxviii.): "by jingo, i believe he would make three bites of a cherry." to seek for the origin of the oath, we should have to turn to a somewhat singular source. we should find it as far away as the slopes of the pyrenees, where basque peasants have long sworn by _jincoa_, that in fact being the basque name for god. we have made mention of swift in a way that might favour the presumption that his ridicule was not at any time directed against the subject of oath-taking. that such is hardly the case will be seen from his prospectus of the bank of swearing, where this overgrown distempered plant is singled out as a fair butt for his sallies. the nature of the business proposed to be transacted at this fanciful banking-house may be more aptly considered in another chapter. chapter vii. "_viola._ swear as if you came but new from the knighting. _fust._ nay; i'll swear after £ a year." _decker's honest w._ written during the fever of south sea speculation, the skit of jonathan swift, known as the "bank of swearing," was one exceedingly felicitous and well-timed. we are amused even now, as we read the prospectus of this preposterous undertaking, at the extreme audacity with which the would-be projector solemnly enumerates its advantages. impossible and altogether ludicrous as was the enterprise, it is not improbable that many of the eager financiers of that speculative age fancied they saw solid reason in the scheme. it is only to be hoped that they did not too eagerly respond to the facilities for investment which the swearers' bank was reputed to hold out. the notion was simply that of a chartered bank established upon a novel basis and financing upon an original principle. such bank was in fact to enjoy a monopoly of levying the fines which the laws of the country imposed upon swearing. although these penalties had been rarely inflicted, the mere circumstance of their being warranted by the statute-book was regarded by the projector in the light of a mine of latent wealth. a profitable banking concern once fairly in operation, and backed by the security of these statutory imposts, what more could the investor require for his capital? to convince the investing public of the merits of his scheme, he proceeds to calculate the sums that might be realised by fully putting the act into vigour. the neglected statute upon the basis of which the whole of this superstructure was to be raised and the bank of swearing endowed, was the act of the sixth and seventh year of william and mary, inflicting a penalty at the rate of not less than a shilling an oath.[ ] "it is computed by geographers,"--so argues the promoter--"that there are two millions in the kingdom [ireland], of which number there may be said to be a million of swearing souls. it is thought there may be five thousand gentlemen. every gentleman, taken one with another, may afford to swear an oath every day, which will yearly produce one million eight hundred and twenty-five thousand oaths; which number of shillings makes the yearly sum of £ , . "the farmers of this kingdom, who are computed to be ten thousand, are able to spend yearly five hundred thousand oaths, which gives £ , ; and it is conjectured that from the bulk of the people twenty or five and twenty thousand pounds may be yearly collected." the swearing capacity of the army is no less minutely investigated. in the case of the militia, however, the promoter is disposed to recommend either a partial immunity from the tax or else a scale of fines considerably cheapened. to put the law in full force against militiamen, at least so opines the promoter, would only be to fill the stocks with porters and the pawnshops with accoutrements. so essential is this point with him, that he makes direct appeal to his protestant countrymen, reminding them of the satisfaction it would afford the papists to see a most useful body of soldiery actually swear themselves out of their swords and muskets. inclined to a politic leniency towards the military classes, it would seem that this ingenious projector looked mainly for his revenue to the swearing dues that might be collected at wakes and fairings. the oaths of a single connaught fair, he has calculated, amount to upwards of three thousand. "it is true," he allows, "that it would be impossible to turn all of them into money, for a shilling is so great a duty on swearing, that if it were carefully exacted, the common people might as well pretend to drink wine as to swear, and an oath would be as rare among them as a clean shirt." in this way the reverend dean rattles on. he is pointing his satire both at the epidemic of financial adventure then so fatally prevalent and at that incomprehensible leaning to the use of "bad language" of which even he was so ready to avail himself when it either suited his purpose or strengthened his style. the dean can scarcely be supposed to have known that one of the many proposals put before lord burghley in the very early days of political economy, bore a close resemblance to his manner of handling oaths. a monsieur rodenberg proposed to show how the revenue could be increased to twenty millions of crowns, and part of his plan consisted in a rigorous levy of fines on swearing. he further recommended that a council of twelve "grave persons" should have the disposal of the fund, which while unexpended should be put out to usury.[ ] a recommendation of this kind urged upon queen elizabeth's ministers was very much in advance of english politics. it so far denotes a turning-point in the history of swearing, that we cannot do better than trace out what the future course of legislation was to be. previous to the period we are now entering, a person addicted to intemperate language might have been called to account by his church, or at the bar of his own conscience. he could not have been called to account by the state. the suggestion of state interference, so far as concerns the southern division of this island, seems not to have previously occurred, and we are consequently justified in inferring that the necessity for it had never seriously arisen. there is, indeed, complete cohesion and consistency in what was happening. we believe we have shown elsewhere whence it was, and when it was, that the english people first began to swear, and we are confirmed in our conclusions by finding that this was the precise period at which english law-makers began to legislate upon swearing. passing over barbarous and obsolete laws of a more imperfect civilisation, we find that the first essays in state control commenced in scotland. a full half century before the question came before elizabeth's parliament, the sister kingdom had the benefit of a statute inflicting a monetary penalty upon the use of oaths. this enactment, passed by the scottish parliament of , calls for notice upon other grounds besides those of morality. if a legal document can be said to partake of a poetic character, it was certainly the case with this ordinance of queen mary, which seems to have been directly inspired by the metrical labours of william dunbar, then lately the national poet. the verses of dunbar to which this result can be partially attributed are those known as 'the sweirers and the devill.' it is certainly remarkable that the framers of the act would seem to have prepared its clauses with dunbar's poetry open before them. at all events, the statute literally recites the "ugsome oaths" that are used by the old versifier. there is a severity in the statute at which dunbar himself would have been surprised had he lived down to mary's reign. in particular, it enacts that "a prelate of kirk, earl or lord," shall for the first offence be fined to the extent of twelve pennies, but for the fourth the delinquent shall be banished or imprisoned for a year. dunbar's treatment of his subject is very similar to that of the nameless author of the 'moralité des blasphémateurs' which we have previously noticed. he supposes the devil to have assumed human shape, an assumption which in those times would have been thought nothing out of the way, and in that guise to be conversing with the traders in a lowland market. as is usual in these episodes, he invites them to join him in the use of the most delectable oaths that he can lay before them. the honest market-folk are so taken by his allurements that we have the maltman, the goldsmith, the "sowter," and the "fleshor" vieing with one another in their choice of ribaldry. in this friendly contest, needless to say, it is the parish priest who carries off the prize. one hopes that his excuse was as valid as that of the monk in rabelais. "how now," exclaims ponocrates, "you swear, friar john!" "it is only," replies the friar, "to grace and adorn my speech; it is the colour of a ciceronian rhetoric." the place in literature left vacant by dunbar was soon occupied by lindsay, the "sir david lindsay of the mount lord lion, king at arms," whose name and titles are so familiar to the readers of scott. he likewise appears to have led up to the impending legislation, if not indeed to have been the immediate cause of it. his 'satyre of the three estaitis,' performed at coupar in , besides containing other objectionable matter, is a wild medley of oaths. apart from what was passing in and near the capital, the local authorities from glasgow to aberdeen were up in arms against swearers before any movement of the kind had taken place in the other division of the island. to judge from the borough records of the former city,[ ] the prevalency of the habit was a source of great scandal to the presbytery of that town. the number of janet andersons and william crawfords who were arraigned before the high bailiff for offences of this character is something considerable. at aberdeen[ ] in the attention of the council was specially engaged in repressing the swearing of "horrible and execrable oaths." they proceeded to put on foot a system of fines, and with a degree of confidence that is hardly commendable, they authorised the heads of families to keep a box in which to place the mulcts they were empowered to inflict in their households. servants' wages were liable to be taxed at the will of their masters, and wives' pin-money at the instance of their lords. a few years later the presbytery went further than even the magistracy had already done. they directed the master of the house to keep a "palmer," or instrument for inflicting pain upon the palm of the open hand. this we suppose to have been the last argument used against offenders whose wages or whose pin-money had been sworn away. altogether the attempt to make people moral by act of parliament seems to have been productive of much strife in scotland, without securing, so far as can be perceived, any positive gain. the act of , that under which the local and spiritual authorities derived their powers, was further supplemented by acts of and . we now arrive at the point at which legislation upon the subject was to cross the border and take a prominent place in the counsels of king james' reign. we have seen that it was queen elizabeth's godson sir john harington, who first recorded the positive introduction of the damnatory oath. a long time, however, must have elapsed before the bantling took heart of grace and found strength to run alone. an examination of elizabethan writings does not conduce to the idea of the term having had a widespread acceptation. the reference we have given to the comedy of nat field, 'amends for ladies,' tends to show that the british shibboleth was still regarded as of exotic growth. the truth would seem to be that the literature of the country, gross and abusive as it often was, was singularly free from terms of this particular description, while the conversation of the humbler orders was not so unexceptionable. already it had become a source of uneasiness to the legislature. in a measure was introduced into the commons "against usual and common swearing," but, having been carried up to the lords, it dropped after the first reading. this would appear to have been the first attempt at legislation on the subject.[ ] on the accession of james i. the topic was again brought to the notice of the house, but the early parliaments of this reign were too much occupied with the work thrown upon them in consequence of the gunpowder treason to formulate any code for the regulation of this abuse. although no less than five separate bills, having the prevention of swearing for their object, were presented during the course of this reign, it was not until that an enactment was finally carried defining and controlling the offence. the statute of that year[ ] provided that every offender should forfeit the sum of twelve pence. in default of payment the culprit was to be placed in the stocks for three hours, or if under the age of twelve years was to be severely whipped. the attack made by the puritans upon performances of a dramatic nature had resulted in a kindred piece of legislation especially affecting the stage. by an act[ ] passed in it was provided that a penalty of _l._ should be borne by every person who jestingly or profanely used the name "of god, or of christ jesus, or the holy ghost, or of the trinity," in any interlude, pageant or stage-play. it was in consequence of the rigour of this enactment that ben jonson narrowly escaped a prosecution for blasphemy. on the production of the 'magnetic lady,' the language employed upon the stage gave great offence in legal quarters, and the author was sent for from a sick-bed and severely questioned by the master of the revels. an examination of the play will show the charge, as against jonson, to have been unfounded; even the author was at a loss to understand the occasion for the accusation being preferred. the actors in the piece were accordingly called together, and when confronted with the dramatist, were forced to admit that the objectionable expletives were those of their own supplying. when some months later the play of 'the wits' was presented to the licenser, previous to its production on the stage of the blackfriars, that dignitary was particularly careful to expunge all such passages as struck him as unparliamentary. sir william d'avenant, the author of the comedy, complained to the king of this exercise of the censorship, and his majesty, after reading the play for himself, negatived the decision of the licenser. he ruled that the words "s'death," "s'light," and such kindred terms, were asseverations merely, and not oaths. the court functionary does not appear to have been any the more satisfied, and has left an entry in his diary, submitting indeed to his master's judgment, but maintaining his own opinion. the play was returned to d'avenant, having the full sanction of the king, who on its first production took boat to the blackfriars playhouse to witness the performance.[ ] the stage has continued to enjoy a species of traditional immunity from all the reprobation which swearing is presumed to incur. so long as the action passing on the boards is in ever so remote a degree in affinity with its supposed natural counterpart, and is suited with dialogue that is fairly appropriate, the use of expletives is not omitted in deference to the susceptibilities of an audience. the theatre may in some sense be called a school of swearing, and in that capacity has frequently brought upon itself the castigations of its appointed supervisors. of all the censors who from time to time have made a stand against this traditional licence, george colman is to be remembered as the most violent and the most inconsistent. as a writer he had scandalised a whole generation of playgoers. the 'heir-at-law' and the 'poor gentleman,' comedies with which he has permanently benefited stage literature, do not certainly halt at any extreme. his very appointment as censor was due to the bottle-acquaintance that had sprung up with the regent prince of wales. yet so squeamish did he become when once the official mantle had descended upon his shoulders, that even the exclamations "lud!" and "la!" were ruthlessly expunged from productions submitted to his censorship. the words "oh, providence!" were also rigidly excised, and the very names of heaven and hell were flatly condemned as savouring of irreverence. says mr. dutton cook, in treating of this feature of the georgian drama:--"men swore in those days not meaning much harm or particularly conscious of what they were doing, but as a matter of bad habit, in pursuance of a custom certainly odious enough, but which they had not originated and could hardly be expected immediately to overcome. in this way malediction formed part of the manners of the time. how could these be depicted upon the stage in the face of mr. colman's new ordinance? there was great consternation among actors and authors. critics amused themselves by searching through colman's own dramatic writings and cataloguing the bad language they contained. the list was very formidable. there were comminations and anathemas in almost every scene. the matter was pointed out to him, but he treated it with indifference. he was a writer of plays then, but now he was examiner of plays." the persecution under which jonson suffered was due to the steady growth of puritan principles. measures of austerity were speedily generated by this ascetic philosophy; and among others we find that a scheme for bringing oaths, in a liquidated shape, to the aid of the national resources, was put into operation. letters patent were granted in the month of july , for establishing a public department for enforcing the laws against swearing. one robert lesley was appointed to the office of chief inquisitor, and was authorised to take all necessary steps for carrying out the act in every parish of the kingdom. whatever moneys might be realised were to be paid over to the bishops for the benefit of the deserving poor. lesley appointed deputies in the parishes, who, we notice, were at liberty to deduct _s._ _d._ in the £ for their pains. a copy of one of these appointments to a london parish appears among the state papers, but no balance-sheet from which we might learn something of the "turn-over" of the office appears to be forthcoming.[ ] with what feelings the army of the parliament regarded this offence may be gathered from two sentences passed upon offenders convicted under military law. in march , a quartermaster named boutholmey was tried by council of war for uttering impious expressions. the man was found guilty and condemned to have his tongue bored with a red-hot iron, his sword broken over his head, and himself ignominiously dismissed the service. in the following year a dragoon was similarly sentenced by court-martial to be branded on the tongue.[ ] even in districts removed from martial severity the monetary tax on oath-taking was frequently demanded. we perceive from a recent writer,[ ] who has collected the ancient records of quarter sessions, that swearing was severely visited upon the lieges of somerset and devon. john huishe, of cheriton, was convicted for swearing twenty-two oaths. humfrey trevitt, for swearing ten oaths, was adjudged to pay _s._ _d._ for the use of the poor. william harding, of chittlehampton, was held to be within the act of swearing for saying "upon my life," and thomas buttand was fined for exclaiming "on my troth!" to glance at scotland at this time, we find the governing body enacting laws of a more searching and stringent character than any that had preceded them. the parliament of ordered that whoever should curse or blaspheme should upon a second conviction be "censurable" in the manner prescribed, that is, a nobleman should pay twenty pounds scots, a baron twenty marks, a gentleman ten marks. the act anticipates the case of a minister of religion coming under its provisions. the punishment in that case was the forfeit of the first part of his year's stipend. in a further enactment was passed, the previous one being admittedly too lenient, and in the same session the offence of cursing a parent was made punishable by sentence of death. it is certainly curious to witness the extremes to which the scottish nation were prepared to go in legislating against the commission of this offence. in , when the country was rushing to arms to resist the invasion of cromwell, an act of parliament was prepared which disqualified for command all officers who were addicted to swearing. the code which, in this country, had proved sufficient for the puritans remained in force until the manners of the restoration had rendered further legislation imperative. this took the shape of the statute of william and mary, by which, as we have seen, the dean of st. patrick's was so greatly exhilarated. after an interval of some fifty years the interference of parliament was again felt to be necessary, and an act of george ii. was passed which still regulates the law upon the subject of swearing.[ ] the preamble admits that the existing laws were not sufficiently powerful to meet the circumstances for which they were designed. a more onerous scale of penalties was to be prescribed, commencing with a fine of one shilling in the case of a labourer, and rising to five shillings in the case of a swearer of gentleman's degree. that this measure should not want for publicity, it was ordered to be read quarterly in every church and chapel throughout the kingdom. a curious instance of punishment for neglect of this saving provision, is noticed in the 'gentleman's magazine' for . in july of that year a rich vicar and a poor curate were condemned to pay into the hands of the proper officer a sum of _l._ for neglecting to read in church the act against swearing. this clause was only repealed by an enactment of the present century. we have some means of knowing whether the fines recoverable under this statute were in point of fact actually inflicted, and from the importance attached by the public prints to the decisions of magistrates on this head, we are justified in thinking that the statute was very rarely put into requisition. in the 'gentleman's magazine' for july we read that a woman convicted of uttering a profane oath and unable to defray the shilling penalty, was sentenced to ten days' hard labour in bridewell. in december of the same year a tradesman was committed for a matter of three hundred and ninety oaths, the fines amounting to upwards of _l._, which he was unable to pay. convictions under the statute were at this time seriously attracting public attention. that the calculations of dean swift should not be altogether lost to the world, one rigid economist practically entertained the notion of adding to the national resources by preaching a crusade against the opulent classes of swearers. there was a mr. matthew towgood, who in prepared a treatise 'upon the prophane and absurd use of the monosyllable damn.' it is enough to say that neither imagination nor research seem to have been the especial gift of mr. towgood. it is a whining piece of work, in which the author gravely informs us that he had taken up his residence at a seaport town in order the more closely to observe the impious language of the sailors. we should, however, do the author the justice to refer to the one distinctive experience he seems to have gathered in his marine retreat. he had discovered,--so at least he solemnly assures us,--that the monosyllable in question was a "hortatory expression" by which the chaplains in his majesty's navy were accustomed to summon british seamen to their prayers. but much as it enters into the penal administration of the seventeenth century, there is little to indicate that the vice was countenanced in high places, or that it was seriously regarded as a pardonable incident pertaining to the enjoyments of men of rank. that crowning distinction seems to have been reserved for the age of anne and the first sovereigns of the house of brunswick. then it was that the insular propensity grew impudent and headstrong, and soon became a power in the land. it is only probable that the moral relapse that followed the restoration may have given the first impetus to the ascendancy of this invigorating habit. charles ii. is said to have taught his ladies to swear like parrots, but oaths were still only the plaything and not part of the serious business of the court. the foppingtons and clumsys were scrupulously nice in their methods of affirmation, but it was publicly recognised that their swearing was a mere theatrical device, and that they either swore like cavaliers or swore like chambermaids. the acme had not even then been reached. that point was only attained in the age when duchess marlborough found disguise impossible by reason of her oaths. in the matter of swearing the courtiers of the stuarts may have demeaned themselves like mantalinis, but the giants of a later day swore home. an obscure american clergyman, having undertaken a voyage across the atlantic to solicit alms for a pious foundation in virginia, and urging that the people of that state had souls to be saved as well as their brethren in england, was met with the rejoinder from king william's attorney-general, "souls! damn your souls! make tobacco!" in the year there was founded the society for the reformation of manners. it had for one of its prime objects the entire suppression of oath-taking. the society seems to have enrolled members distinguished alike for a laxity of their own morals and a tender solicitude for the welfare of other people's. the king consort, "est-il-possible," was persuaded to become a fellow, and was induced to put forth a howling manifesto upon the iniquities of the age. this exordium was publicly read at bow church. what with openly declaiming against the hideousness of vice and proceeding criminally against its professors, the society convinced the diarist evelyn that they were working a complete reformation in the habits of the community. the building of saint paul's cathedral was proceeding at this time, and the work necessarily employed a large body of labourers and workmen, who, as things were and are, were not scrupulously delicate in the choice of words. nevertheless, it was the particular care of the builders that not one offensive word should be used during the progress of the work.[ ] sir christopher wren framed rules which made a delinquency in this respect liable to be so summarily visited that it has been the boast of many earnest and slightly credulous people that the mighty fabric was piled up without an oath being spoken. the society certainly did good work if they had any hand in this result. in spite of the society, the question of swearing and its prevalent grossness seems to have attracted the attention of the civil courts of law at this time. in a number of applebee's journal for , some account is given of a certain abel boyer, an infamous scribbler and notorious swearer of the day. it seems he had threatened some of his fellow journalists with the pains of libel because they had done him simple justice in referring to the comminations he was accustomed to use in speech. before commencing his suit, abel prudently sought the advice of counsel, contending that his trifling derelictions did not partake of the colour of blasphemy. the lawyers accordingly gave it against mr. boyer, advising that his "goddams" and kindred expletives came entirely within the prohibited pale. in march , there is another instance of swearing being food for westminster hall, as appears from the _flying post_, the prominent whig journal of the day. mr. richard burridge, a scurrilous newsman attached to the _british gazetteer_, had been tried at hicks's hall for addiction to blasphemous expressions, too shocking, says the _post_, to be named. burridge was very properly convicted, although a strong presentation was made in his favour, that when sober a better conducted man did not exist. to account for this person's unfortunate relapse, it was urged that he was "excessively drunk," a consideration that so weighed with the tribunal, that they passed upon him what was admitted on all hands to be a most moderate sentence. burridge was ordered to take up a position at the new church in the strand and to be from there publicly whipped to charing cross. further, he was to pay a fine of twenty shillings and be imprisoned for a month. thenceforward a paper war was waged between the two political divisions of journalism. the tories professed to see the whig journalists stigmatised by the disgrace of one of their number, and the great daniel defoe cast censure upon them and upon burridge from _mist's journal_, the tory paper he conducted. * * * * * and so, pursued by judgments of court and branded with letters of infamy, it would seem to have been a very desperate time for these unfortunate swearers. the profession of the pen was likely enough to rankle under this load of aspersion, were it not that a more genial influence had arisen that was bent upon remedying rather than provoking offences. for while the leaders of opinion were playing their intensest game of political intrigue, while poets were occupied with the trade of admiration, and divines with the trade of subserviency, there arose in england a gentler and more captivating literature of reproval, that laid its generous laws upon men the most intolerant and the most prurient. we allude to that more benevolent code of morality inaugurated by joseph addison. chapter viii. "_lackwit._ now do i want some two or three good oaths to express my meaning withall. an they would but learn me to swear and take tobacco! 'tis all i desire."--'_a fine companion_,' _by shackerley marmion_, . this one voice of kindly censure was that of a man incapable of a literary mistake. whatever his own personal blunders, it was impossible for joseph addison to err in a point of literary judgment. although wedded to the society of men of taste and perception, it was no part of his purpose to remove himself from contact with the coarsest of human ware. the tolerance he exhibited in ordinary intercourse reflects itself in the labours of his pen. in his philanthropies, as in his severities or his rebukes, he assumes no tinge of sanctity, no moralist's sad-coloured robe. he is familiar, and in a manner identified, with the very follies he is so generously decrying. the society into which he went was disposed to be exceedingly lenient to fashionable excesses. and thus it was that in the fulness of his wisdom, it pleased him to be of good accord with priest and prelate as with the very movers and seconders of iniquity. and so, in the consideration of any social folly of his time and ours, we are in a moment impelled to ask--what does mr. spectator say to this; or gentle master tatler? even in the present inquiry there can be no reasonable doubt of their competency to give us testimony. addison may have heard as many and as furious oaths as any man of his time. his ways were beset by inveterate and uncontrollable swearers. his friend steele had a tongue that was foolish enough, heaven knows; and when he was wont to meet with swift in st. james' coffee house, may he not too often have been assailed with language needlessly expressive? what cronies he must have had! what lads he must have known! he had seen all the tearing fellows of the day--the three-bottle men at the october club, the young blood of the shires who rode into the gap at blenheim. he could have remembered the roughest livers of king charles' time, sedley and rochester, bully dawson and fighting fitzgerald. he was surrounded with bravado and devilry, with all the disbanded sins of the flanders regiments. for these were the days of ramilies and malplaquet, when the nation was intoxicated with her meed of victory; when his grace of marlborough won the country's battles, and his lord of peterborough scattered sovereigns from his chariot to show the people he was _not_ the duke of marlborough. it was a time of great profusion and great excess, in curses as in everything else. and so, joseph addison, though living in the flighty times you did, there can be no doubt of the quiet evenness of your ways, or how jovial were the companions who shook you by the fist. but how you drilled and moulded them, how you held and swayed them by the force of your bright intelligence, how shall we who never heard your voice be able to determine? happily in the pages of the 'tatler' and 'spectator' there is stored up for us the best and rarest of that quiet wisdom. no matter whether the night were studious or riotous, there arrives the punctual morning sheet with its offering of sober satire and sprightly sense. he goes about his task of persuading and humanising as gaily as a man might set out to laugh at a comedy. he mounts his best ruffles and his finest tunic as he sits down to write his homily. it is with no halting, staid, discriminative pen that he descants upon the pleasantries and follies, the very reference to which give life and colour to a weary argument. by the aid of these threads of human sentiment we fancy we come the closer to him in his musings and his wanderings, now hieing, as he does, to the pantiles or the playhouse, now to the temple stairs or vauxhall gardens. posterity takes delight in reversing the footsteps of its favourites. it attempts to return with them to the scenes which they themselves have left for good so long ago. and so with addison, we accustom ourselves to see him mixing in a crowd of masquers and dominos, or supping in upper chambers with ministers of state and tavern wits. the fancy is a harmless one, and not far removed from reality. imagine, therefore, mr. joseph addison at hockley-in-the-hole or at cupar's gardens, but be sure that to-morrow's sermon will want nothing of its grace and sparkle because inspired over-night in a mug-house parlour. addison has in fact conceived and transmitted to us some of the loftiest notions ever formed of a deity, and of the unending trespass against divine law. among surroundings possibly resonant with ribaldry, he could reflect, as few before him have so impartially and equably reflected, how much of vileness is to be set down to the score of thoughtlessness and inanity, how much to a high-handed defiance of the master he owns. one number of the 'spectator,' that of november th, , sends forth the sternest challenge to the government of error. few other secular works have made so moderate and at once so eloquent a protest. adapting the notion of locke that the unaided realisation of the deity is formed by observation of the qualities we should desire to find in ourselves, but sublimated by the notion of infinity attaching to each of them, addison proceeds to argue a state of veneration being the normal condition of the mental frame. the horror that is conceived by a child, or, as it may be, by a grown man, at the jarring dissonance of an oath is nothing else than a sense of injury dealt out to this deeply-rooted conviction. a condition of reverence being thus inherent, it follows that the images which reason has unconsciously reared must meet with some disturbing shock before they can be impaired or dismembered. but the blow once fairly delivered, the victim of the assault in too many cases passes out into the ranks of the assailants. the boundary line between the state of abhorrence and the succeeding one of aggression is so faint that it may almost imperceptibly be overpassed, and is apt to become the more obscure with growth of years. the danger is so easily incurred by even right-thinking men, that addison enjoins perfect abstinence from the passing mention of the name of the deity, instancing the jewish prohibition which forbad its use even in professedly religious discourses. and in this point of veneration, we shall find the practice of judæa to have been more precise than anything that is recorded of a nation. apart from the high deliberative swearing that was so severely visited by the mosaic law, the use of most unmeaning and flippant particles was met with signal retribution. the man who standing in the syrian market-place made mention of the holy name in reference to the common incidents of the day--to the lusciousness of the melons, the knavery of the merchants--a mere impatient whisper, perhaps, in all the hubbub of the fair, was instantly deprived of civil rights. he had lost all power of intercourse or conversation. he could not appear at a feast of three or a congregation of ten; he could not mourn for a brother or bury a child. the sentence was only removed after thirty days of expiation. in the 'spectator' of may th, in the same year, he recounts an experiment supposed to have been successfully practised in a company of hardened swearers. a host is presented as having invited to his table as many of his friends as were conspicuous for their proficiency in swearing. he takes the precaution to station a shorthand writer in a concealed part of the room. the repast, as may be supposed, was rendered terrific by the unceasing clatter of oaths, but as soon as it had ended, the amphytrion ushered in the scribe, who proceeded to read aloud the faithful report he had taken down. the writer, it would seem, had filled many sheets with this animated conversation, but this was found to be so interspersed with swearing redundancies that the whole might have been summarised in a single page. the perusal of the document, we are informed, so far brought conviction to the minds of the swearers, that they forthwith began to work with a will to amend their lives and their vocabulary. the indignation of our essayist is without doubt most powerfully aroused at the inadvertent use that was made of the sacred name. "what can we think," he exclaims, "of those who make use of so tremendous a name in the ordinary expressions of their anger, mirth, and most impertinent passions? of those that admit it into the most familiar questions and assertions, ludicrous phrases and works of humour?" and then, as if recollecting that gentlemanly example was the one rule to which the squires and politicians at button's or the kitcat would most readily submit, he instances a person of position, who, during a long life, was never known to omit a gesture of reverence at the mention of the deity. it is a noticeable point in the gossiping moralist that he always carefully guards himself from passing upon his readers the affront, for such it would have been esteemed, of directing their attention to the qualities of persons in a presumably lesser position than themselves. on the whole mr. spectator has perhaps done wisely in humouring as well as reprobating. the temper of the times required something less ponderous than the invective of the older school of moralists, and this was the very want that a man of addison's temperament was best able to supply. the confidence reposed in his readers was not misplaced. the banter and the satire of these graceful essays are acknowledged to be reflected in the mended morality of the whole body of subsequent literature. if we mistake not, there is the same improvement soon to be witnessed in every department, in the national life of the nation as well as the private life of the citizen. in part attributable to the politic sway of the walpole government, in part to the tincture of politeness and good breeding that these polished penmen had striven to disseminate, there is, for a time at least, a marked absence of rancour and strife of tongues. the fires of the puritan faction had smouldered out; those of the jacobite frenzy had hardly had time to rekindle. that spirit of minute controversy which had never ceased to divide both court and city since the days of martin mar-prelate was at length at rest. in this somewhat remarkable lull we find very little giving or taking of abuse. so far as social records are a guide, there seems even to be a calm in the usual tempest of swearing. but towards the middle of the eighteenth century comes the relapse. jacobitism had blazed again. the factions were relit. controversy wagged its tongue as before. everywhere are evidences of want and misery, of low sedition and of strong drink. the tipsy duke of cumberland is the hero whose graces we are to admire. the 'guards' march to finchley' is the picture which may be trusted to convey a portraiture of the manners of the times. it is precisely at this conjuncture that parliament enacted the last and most stringent of the measures by which it sought to place an embargo upon swearing. in the use of coarse and violent language women competed with the men. in on the occasion of the memorable trial concerning the fair fame of the countess of grosvenor, the letters of this lady were produced and read in court. we have horace walpole's authority for saying that the oaths with which they were plentifully besprinkled were far more masculine than they can be said to have been tender. the prince of the blood to whom they were addressed could swear volubly too, and his oaths we may feel assured were neither masculine nor tender. we of this generation can scarcely have any adequate notion of what the swearing has been which has prevailed in this country at different periods, and more particularly in the latter part of the reign of george ii. so popular and so ungovernable was the habit, that there is hardly any rational means to be found for accounting for it. at this time there lived in an obscure village in sussex a decent, well-to-do tradesman, whose shop, well stocked with broadcloth and homespun, was a centre of commerce for miles around. he was known to be a thriving man, and seems to have taken a leading part in the administration of parish affairs. business was not so burdensome but that he found time to attend at every festive gathering, and to keep a well-written chronicle of his own and his neighbours' doings. this diary has of late years been unearthed, and a very pretty story it has to tell of the _bourgeois_ manner of life towards the meridian of the century.[ ] one entry will speak for many of the same character. "february th, .--in the evening i went down to the vestry; there was no business of moment to transact, but oaths and imprecations seemed to resound from all sides of the room. i believe if the penalty were paid assigned by the legislature by every person that swears that constitute our vestry, there would be no need to levy any tax to maintain our poor." the outbreak must have reached an unprecedented point when we find the president of quarter sessions, sir john fielding, alluding to it in the charge to the grand jury delivered at the guildhall in april, . no language can be stronger than that of sir john--"i cannot sufficiently lament," he says "that shameful, inexcusable and almost universal practice of profane swearing in our streets; a crime so easy to be punished, and so seldom done, that mankind almost forget it to be an offence, and to our dishonour be it spoken, it is almost peculiar to the english nation." a state of things like this would seem to have given rise to a singular communication addressed to the 'gentleman's magazine.' the writer lays the whole blame upon the clergy; they have offered a direct encouragement to swearing by declaring it a sin. he recommends that divines in future should describe it as a virtue, which, he says, may be as easily done as saying the contrary, and he will answer for the success of the experiment. a clergyman of his acquaintance, continues the writer, had already carried this bit of precept into use. to convince the congregation that swearing was far from being a sin, this gentleman constantly practised it in his own discourses. there might indeed be some doubt here which was the worse, the remedy or the disease. the imprecations that are so severely censured by fielding are a totally different thing from the imprecations patronised by lady grosvenor, if we are to understand the oaths of the populace to have been the hideous and unsightly objects presented for condemnation to the middlesex jury. and here we hardly need point out the distinction between swearing when at its earnest, and swearing when at its play. in numberless courts and alleys, in the sinks and hiding-places of a great city, we may be sure there are innumerable spots where oaths and imprecations never for a moment are laid aside. they are as punctual and as regular as the ticking of a clock. no word is uttered that has not its accompaniment of an oath; no bread broken that is not devoured with cursing. for why? human nature is at all times bent upon possessing, and upon increasing what it has acquired. the very act of producing is sufficient to uphold the equilibrium of the mental frame. but this same nature, when pinched and starved, becomes a perfect storehouse of enmity and ill-feeling. among the denizens of these holes and crannies humanity has been driven very hard. it has been crushed and bruised to a point beyond endurance. the possibility of possessing is very faint, that of enjoying still more remote. no graceful thing--no pleasant thing, can readily come to its hand. yet there is one chattel they _can_ possess when every stick and stone is denied them. they can be tenacious of their swearing. see how manifestly useful a thing it is! it can give a man an eloquence where none would otherwise belong to him. it can set him up with a semblance of bodily strength, when otherwise he would be puny and fragile. he can assail authorities, and they dare not answer. he can drown down the voice of missionaries, and they are halting in reproval. there are beings so dejected--so penurious--that this swearing constitutes their whole store of worldly opulence. they know it too, in a fashion, although it has never been told them and they themselves are incapable of the telling. so much for swearing when in grim earnest; how are we to account for it in its transition to sport and play? unless we are greatly mistaken, there has entered into its composition a spirit of broad humour which has, in a manner, rendered it attractive, if not positively amusing. were we to put the whole body of bad language to a judicial trial, we should in fairness be compelled to admit the extenuating circumstance of a time-expired claim to the mock-heroic and the ludicrous. it certainly does not sparkle now, but it must have come of a witty stock, and have boasted a mirth-provoking pedigree. to have rendered itself so particularly palatable as it has done, like many other kinds of verbal folly, it can only have taken its rise in a perverted spirit of merriment. to apply words, and more especially adjectives, in an unwonted and unusual sense is one of the arts which go a long way to make conversation agreeable. to do this with taste, and without corrupting or annihilating the meaning of the word, demands a certain amount of literary skill. to do so at any price frequently demands skill, and is always fraught with consequences of some kind to the listener. most of these perversions of highly respectable words have now become so trite that they pass unchallenged. the verb "to bag," for instance, is in jocular use for implying a petty appropriation of property. it must of course at some time have been forcibly wrested from the language of sportsmen, and no doubt with this circumstance secretly underlying it, has been productive, and will be again, of general good-humour. such another _tour de phrase_ is met with in the verb "to charter." this originally had reference to the hiring of a ship; but when we hear of chartering a fly, or chartering a stretcher, there certainly arises an odd sense of the incongruous. we are far from saying that the merriment in these cases is acute, but we contend that this kind of pleasantry is at the bottom of every phrase or catchword obtaining universal acceptance. examples might be multiplied of this wanton abduction of words. the not very polite expression "the damage," as signifying the cost of any article of purchase, is one which upon frequent repetition may fail to strike the mind as containing any element of humour. but recollecting the wide region the imagination has to traverse in order to connect the idea of detriment with the idea of price, we are disposed to allow that this mental circuit is enlivened with some shreds of grotesque imagery. indeed, a large and by no means contemptible portion of the world have derived a high degree of enjoyment from the simple confusion and dislocation of terms. nothing is more frequent than to find a catch-word ostensibly of no kind of intelligence being exchanged by delighted youths across half the desks and counters of the metropolis. the flippant use of oaths is so far practically explained; the colloquial habit of imputing to unoffending objects a condition of damnation passing in the light of a fairly respectable joke. joke indeed there is none, but it is the popular repute or suspicion of a jest that exercises this fascination. it is noticeable that a provincial audience witnessing one of colman's or sheridan's comedies is more genuinely amused by the "zounds" and "dammes" uttered in provoking situations by testy speakers, than by all the polish of epigram and dialogue. as further illustrating this latent element of humour, which has helped to perpetuate the practice of purposeless swearing, we may be permitted to refer to an occurrence that befell us when, some number of years ago, we happened to be taking a humble part in a legal inquiry at a county assizes. the case was one in which, let us say, moribundus was plaintiff, and the juggernaut railway company were defendants. it is not necessary to refer to the business of the dispute further than to say that the plaintiff had been shattered almost beyond recovery, and that our province it was to help to prove to demonstration the utter untrustworthiness of the story relied upon by moribundus. the repast that succeeded the inquiry more nearly concerns us; the lawyers, the london doctor, and the local practitioner having agreed thus to celebrate the evening. we do not recollect that the company were at all disposed to fraternity, as a degree of professional acrimony seemed to preside at that feast. in the course of dinner, one of the party, looking round the board, happens to inquire, "where's the damned mustard?" no particular notice is taken of this remark, until presently one of the legal gentlemen solemnly observes, "where's the damned salt?" we do not attempt to explain it, but a sudden sense of the ludicrous instantly overcame the men of law and medicine assembled at the _fleece_. this incongruous and perfectly irrelevant joinder of words, while it revealed the source from which amusement was supposed to flow, was at the same time a potent satire upon the practice of a disreputable art. it was taking the name of swearing itself in vain. it substituted for any closer argument the incisive logic of ridicule. it occurs to us to notice that shakespeare, who was certainly alive to the hidden springs of swearing, has conceived the notion of winging much the same folly with a precisely similar shaft. it had been the fashion among the gay ephesians of eastcheap, during elizabeth's reign, to swear by their honour. "where learnt you that oath, fool?" asks rosalind. "of a certain knight," returns touchstone, "who swore by his honour they were good pancakes." with these examples of compromise before us, it becomes almost a matter for regret that there should remain so large a body of protectionists whose resentment at anything savouring of an oath is perhaps one of the surest means of perpetuating swearing. among the severest codes devised to check the progress of the vice was that designed by the puritan settlers in connecticut and rhode island. these blue laws, as they were called, aimed at establishing an almost theocratic form of government. adopting the polity of great britain as a standpoint, these enactments went considerably further and sought to remodel that system upon the basis of the severest of jewish ordinances. among offences to which the puritan mind would seem to have been especially averse are to be numbered those of swearing and tobacco-smoking. in the case of the latter, however, retribution was only visited upon the after-generation of smokers. people who had already acquired the habit were free to continue in it for the days of their life. in the case of swearing, needless to say, no such licence was extended, convicted swearers being liable to be dealt with according to the gravity of the offence. the penalty seems to have been rated in some instances as low as a fine of five shillings, and to have amounted in others to the punishment of death. in all countries enactments have been levelled against the excesses of ejaculation, but the true instruments for keeping them in bounds, assuming there to be an actual necessity for such treatment, has been shown to be the voice of ridicule and the keen banter of satire. moralists of the pattern of the law-givers of connecticut would probably be found to take exception to the oaths of bobadil, and would condemn 'every man in his humour' as a licentious work. it does not however need argument to show that the mere fact of the redoubted bobadil taking credit to himself for his freaks with the fourth commandment, forms one of the strongest inducements to respect that prohibition. but in view of any latent admiration being lurking in any portion of his auditory, jonson has contrived a foil in the person of master stephen. this is a vain-glorious, empty parasite, whose clumsy imitation of the captain is certainly calculated to put his hearers out of all sympathy with his model. so captivated is this apt disciple with bobadil's string of expletives, that he is found anxiously inquiring whether he also may swear _en militaire_. "certainly," says the sagacious well-bred, "if, as i remember, your name is entered in the artillery garden." bobadil "swore the legiblest of any man christened." the field, however, has not been suffered to be left without competitors. to see how persistent has been the struggle for reputation in the matter as well as manner of swearing, we have only to turn to the well-known dialogue in sheridan's comedy: "_absolute._ but pray, bob, i observe you have got an odd kind of a new method of swearing. "_acres._ ha! ha! you've taken notice of it--'tis genteel, isn't it? i didn't invent it myself though, but a commander in our militia, a great scholar i assure you, says that there is no meaning in the common oaths, and that nothing but their antiquity makes them respectable; because, he says, the ancients would never stick to an oath or two, but would say, by jove! or by bacchus!--by mars! or by pallas! according to the sentiment, so that to swear with propriety, says my little major, the oath should be an echo of the sense; and this we call the oath referential, or sentimental swearing--ha! ha! 'tis genteel, isn't it? "_absolute._ very genteel, and very new, indeed!--and i daresay will supplant all other figures of imprecation. "_acres._ ay, ay, the best terms will grow obsolete. damns have had their day."[ ] we are not aware whether it has been noticed how closely this passage is foreshadowed by dialogue occurring in a much earlier play. both turn upon the notion of a species of property being acquired in set forms of swearing. the play in question is from the pen of richard brome, and is further useful to our purpose as showing that this eccentricity had not abated in the interval that elapsed between jonson and sheridan. under the title of 'covent garden weeded,' it exposes the riotous doings that prevailed in that joyous locality. it was to cleanse this new plantation of the human nettles and creepers that found shelter in its precincts that the drama purports to have been designed. the builders had just completed the spacious piazza which occupies a portion of the site of the convent garden formerly existing there. among the rollicking societies that were springing up in this new settlement, was one known, at least in the comedy, as the "brothers of the blade and the batoon." one scene in this play discloses the brethren in a state of carnival. they are engaged in passing a novice into the ranks of the order, their captain thus exhorting the new-comer as to their social code:-- "_captain._ i have given you all the rudiments and my most fatherly advice withall. "_clot._ and the last is that i should not swear; how make you that good? "_captain._ that's most unnecessary, for look you, the best, and even the lewdest of my sons do forbear it, not out of conscience, but for very good ends, and instead of an oath, furnish the mouth with some affected protestation. _as i am honest!_ it is so. _i am no honest man!_ if it be not. _'ud take me!_ if i lie to you. _nev'rigo! nev'rstir! i vow!_ and such like. "_clot._ i'll have _i vow_, then. "_nick._ nay, but you shall not, that's mine. "_clot._ can't you lend it me now and then, brother?" it would almost seem, from the evidence of the several passages we have had occasion to refer to, as if the various diversities of character and occupation had engendered a spirit of competition in the assumption of oaths. whether scholar or soldier, knight or citizen, each man, according to his degree, is burning to distinguish himself by some distinctive and eccentric form of swearing. the asseverations employed by the shallows and slanders are as limpid and as timorous as those of falstaff and bardolph are downright and headstrong. hotspur, as we have seen, reproaches lady percy for swearing like a comfit-maker's wife. with the rest of the percies he had lived in aldersgate street, and had probably contracted an aversion to everything savouring of the vulgar life of a great city. how defiant and versatile were the expletives of the old french nobility, we may learn from the pages of brantôme. when seeking to convey a flattering portrait of his father, françois de bourdeilles, he does not omit to impress us with the importance of his oaths. playing backgammon with pope jules ii., his form of adjuration was _chardieu bénit!_ when he lost, and _chardon bénit!_ when he won. in elizabethan england a ridiculous notion prevailed among town society, associating the idea of good breeding with the use, by way of oath, of the word "protest." such an affirmation was understood to raise the presumption of quality in the person who used it. says carlo buffone, "ever, when you can, have two or three peculiar oaths to swear by, that no man else swears, and above all protest." neither is shakespeare silent upon this fashionable eccentricity. the nurse in 'romeo and juliet' is instantly won over to the side of the veronese lover the moment he utters "i protest," and no longer harbours a doubt of his principles. we see her desirous of communicating to her mistress this single expression of gentlemanhood without concerning herself about the more weighty portion of romeo's message. this is, perhaps, almost beneath the dignity of the love-story, but we have to regard it as a relic. we must understand the allusion as a piece of chaff administered to the gallants and templars who sported their fine clothes and broached their oaths and their jests seated upon the very stage where the performers were playing. a passage in a contemporary, entitled 'sir giles goosecap,' affords a key to the especial estimation in which the term then happened to be held:--"there is not the best duke's son in france dares say _i protest_ till he be one-and-thirty years old at least, for the inheritance of that word is not to be possessed before." not only do we view these allusions as relics, but we may as justly consider them in the light of literary fossils. the aim and intention of the author have become petrified. it is, in fact, only by the help of study and appreciation that the true shape and proportion of the idea can be adequately revealed. but search beneath the crust of this intellectual spoil-bank, and there will be seen those slight, if somewhat corroded indications which disclose the humour and the temper of a forgotten age. these inconsequent oaths and no less incomprehensible bywords, fit only now-a-days to undetermine critics and to baffle commentary, are really the reflection of a tinsel finery that was no doubt borne aloft and bravely carried in its day. the explanation for this is simple. the player, to be well in with his patrons, had to turn the laugh from side to side, to give a thrust here and a buffet there, just as the mood or the opportunity dictated. it is this easy familiarity with audiences which has filled our play-books with such store of meaningless or half-meaningless expressions. not that their supposed want of meaning is more than co-extensive with their apparent want of purpose. once re-animated with a design, and that of ever so trivial a character, and their significance stands out in relief. when, as frequently happens in our reading, we encounter oaths of the pattern which shakespeare ascribes to the youth of verona, we may feel sure we have fallen upon some passing home-thrust, some spectral blow, delivered, as it were, among now ghostly antagonists. thus we find that in the town life of the more favoured days of charles i. it was a common affectation to use the words "refuse me," much as the elizabethan dandies made mention of the word "protest." we see this indicated by several examples of contemporary raillery, and particularly in the play of 'match at midnight,' in which the lordlings of the time are described as "those wicked elder brothers, that swear, _refuse them!_ and drink nothing but wicked sack." so at other periods we find other combinations doing yeoman service in this particular; as, for instance, in killigrew's play 'the parson's wedding,' where careless is explaining his plan for attacking the affections of the fair sex--"i am resolved to put on their own silence, answer forsooth, swear nothing but _god's nigs_." except upon the score of banter at prevailing idiotcies, it would be difficult to account for the luxuriant way in which oaths of this description have been provided. we may not inaptly before closing this chapter travel into another hemisphere and advert to that side of the subject in which the powers of darkness are accustomed to be apostrophised in place of the powers of light. most of the swearing which we have had to pass in review may be said to have been accumulated at a vast expense to our notions and perceptions regarding the source of all light. how is it, then, that the full detriment of this system was never taken into account before, and that the obverse of the present practice was not more generally adopted. one might have supposed that the malignant beings who find so facile an entrance into popular imagination would have been the first objects with which to associate so much that is acrimonious. if this could have been seen to, and thoroughly brought about, it is possible that we should never have heard of "swearing" at all, or that it might very well have occupied the same relative position upon the pedestal of virtues as it now does upon the more degraded tallies of vice. however this may be, and of course speculation upon the subject can be nothing more than fanciful, it is the beneficent creations of the universe, and not the malignant ones, that have absorbed the greater part of the energy directed to the practice of swearing. in english archaic writings the instances in which the mention of the satanic power is thus utilised are not numerous. we cannot compete with the _diables_ and _diavolos_ of another race. wherever references of this kind do occur, they as often assume the shape of some amusing transposition. the sharp edge is at once taken off the anathema. thus the soubriquet "old harry" or "the lord harry" generally understood to refer to satan, is frequently used as an adjunct of strong feeling.[ ] but as an imprecation it is of quite inferior magnitude, and seems almost to imply the existence of a strain of good-fellowship with the evil one which it might be exceedingly impolitic to disturb. but beyond the intuitive feeling that the cognomen does apply to this individual, there is little to advance which can clear up the question as to the precise origin of the term. it is supposed that our popular notion of the devil is derived from the roman fauni. the shaggy coat, the horns and cloven feet, are certainly peculiar to the classical treatment of this supernatural being. it is inferred therefore that the idea has been transmitted to us through the medium of our early moralities and interludes. this course of descent derives colour from the fact that the like paraphernalia are not the subject of opprobrious mention in the scriptures,[ ] and that hence our notion of the devil must be drawn from pagan rather than biblical influences. it is accordingly suggested that "old harry," the subject of so much irreverent and irresponsible reference, is no other than "old hairy" of the earliest phases of theatrical representation. a jocose turn seems also to have been given to that common contraction of the satanic name of which mistress page makes use in the 'merry wives' when she exclaims, "i cannot tell what the dickens his name is!" it does not however seem that the expression can be traced earlier than heywood's 'edward the fourth,' of the date , where we meet with the passage: "what the dickens! is it love that makes you prate to me so fondly?" the word is, however, less of an oath than an exclamation. probably few persons who allow themselves the enjoyment of that rather jocular expletive, _the deuce!_ are in the least aware of the remote antiquity of this delectable figure of speech. it is perhaps the most ancient of all the oaths and apologies for oaths that have come down to us, and which after a long and vicissitudinous transit have arrived at last, neither mutilated or dismembered. so old is it that it dates from the very formation of the language, but of so tainted a pedigree that in spite of some six hundred years of regular descent we can scarcely permit it to hold dictionary rank. but, if the account we have to give of its origin can be credited, its history is singular as being intimately connected with one of the greatest social changes that have taken place in the national life. when we are told that the norman conquerors imposed their language upon the subject race, we can understand with what difficulty and hesitation the saxon thanes would attempt to assimilate the foreign tongue. so severe a lesson could only be learned by grasping at such words and phrases as were the more frequently recurring. to say that oaths and imprecations, and in fact all terms of anger and violence, would leave the more durable impression, is only to insist upon what we see daily exemplified in countries where the like process is going on. so it happened with a very favourite norman exclamation. from the evidence of the earliest metrical romances we gather that _deus!_ was such a term of impatience as was constantly upon the lips of the descendants of the invaders. but no sooner did these more courtly and cultivated entertainments make their way into english vernacular, than we find that even in this latter shape the norman _deus_ is significantly preserved. there it appears among the rugged doggrel, a piece of continental finery stitched into the homely saxon garb. it had dropped out of the vocabularies of the french romancists and had become the common property of the ordinary provincial poetaster. it had passed in fact from the french to the english tongue, and is claimed to be that very _deuce_ with which we are most of us familiar. proof of this is afforded by comparison of the old romance of 'havelok the dane'[ ] as it exists in its home and in its foreign versions, and both of which are assigned to a period anterior to the fourteenth century. the translator was evidently a man of spirit, who to warm his lincolnshire readers has added much original incident and local colouring. nevertheless he carefully retained the norman _deus_. it was evidently quite at home on the wolds and in the fens of the translator's country, and only wanted the accent which grimsby patrons would not fail to supply, to transform it to the expression with which we are so well acquainted. there seems to be one oath of this description which bids fair to elude all guess-work as to its origin or meaning. it was formerly a practice in france to swear _par le diable de biterne_. when so much exactitude had been employed to emphasise the whereabouts of this personage, it is only natural to inquire where the locality referred to might happen to be. we believe, however, that no satisfactory answer has as yet been returned. some light is thrown upon the question by francisque michel who (in his 'récherches sur les etoffes de soie') has shown that a present of some rare _pailes de biterne_ was sent to alexander by candace, one of the queens of ethiopia. with this single ray of illumination we must be content. chapter ix. "as i was finishing this worke, an oyster-wife tooke exception against me and called me knave."--'_lamentable effect of two dangerous comets_,' . we trust that we have travelled thus far on our journey without wounding the susceptibilities of any of our readers, and that thus it may continue to the not distant end. in all probability our remarks and illustrations will have been scanned by two totally diverse classes of patrons, those to whom the topics suggested present much that is worthy of attention, and those to whom this little treatise will appear to be written in almost an unknown tongue. all that we can do is to claim the indulgence of these latter. we hope that they at least will acquit us of any intention of blemishing the fair front of human nature, or of darkening any of the windows that administer to its requirements of light and air. in fine, we trust that what has been said, has been spoken fairly and frankly. not, however, that we pretend that the views we may have advanced have anything but a local application. there is a swearing world, a place in which people habitually swear, but there is also a non-swearing world in which they are partially if not totally unacquainted with observances of swearing. to present a picture of the former to the dwellers in the more opposite locality is to expect approval of a marine painting from those who have never beheld the sea. the reflections therefore that we may have been called upon to make by the way, no less than the numerous instances we have found it as well to refer to, must be taken as pertaining only to those troubled waters that surge around the continent inhabited of swearers. this careless, indulgent and pleasure-seeking portion of the world have derived even comfort and convenience from a recognition of the best regulated usages of swearing. reputations for courage and audacity have thus been hourly established by the careful insinuation of hideous expletives. friendships have been cemented by the force of this common bond of union; strangers set at their ease; the weak and hesitating have been galvanised into action. judging from a purely worldly standpoint, it would be inconsistent not to admit that society has been under deep obligations to this especial form of wickedness. swearing has in the main been rendered agreeable and popular in so far that it has been adopted to span over social distances and level social distinctions, to create in fact a code of easy sympathy between otherwise thoroughly unsympathetic men. the worst--and swearers are not necessarily the worst--no less than the best of mankind endeavour to generate some species of that "touch of nature" which we are told makes the whole world kin. we must not therefore be too severe on finding that this very creditable object is sometimes sought to be accomplished by somewhat discreditable means. as a few of our readers may by this time have harboured a conviction that swearing is in some degree a social necessity, they will be able to give full scope to the views upon this point of the excellent mr. shandy.[ ] the only compunction that seems to have been entertained by this gentleman resided in the danger of expending small curses upon totally inadequate occasions. he maintained, indeed, with the utmost cervantic gravity, that he had the greatest veneration for that student of swearing who, in obvious mistrust of his own extempore powers, composed forms suitable to all degrees of provocation, and kept them framed over his chimney-piece for daily reference. "i never apprehended," puts in dr. slop, "that such a thing was ever thought of--much less executed." "i beg your pardon," replies mr. shandy, "i was reading--though not using--one of them to my brother toby this morning, whilst he poured out the tea." the work of ingenuity in question turned out to be a decree of excommunication, certainly a very ponderous and damnatory one, compiled by ernulphus, a learned bishop of rochester. mr. shandy is understood to account for the comprehensiveness of this anathema by assuming it to have been designed as an institute or perfect digest of swearing. he conjectures that upon a decline of vituperation ernulphus had with great learning collected all the known methods, for fear of their being dispersed and so lost to the world for ever. the worthy shandy would even go so far as to maintain that there was no kind of oath that was not to be found in ernulphus. "in short," he would add, "i defy a man to swear out of it." this piece of quaintness, as we need hardly point out, only goes to the fact that wide as is the range of imprecation, it must always come back to that one monotonous symbol of despisal. the anathema of the good bishop is pitched in many keys and sounds, like the collected utterances of many throats. but even ernulphus can scarcely have foreseen the rabelaisian refinements that would suggest themselves to the minds of men as soon as literary demands were made upon the well-worn supply. the genius of the french language seems more particularly to lend itself to the fabrication of burlesque forms and subterfuges. thus to affirm by _le sacré froc d'habacuc_, or by _la double-triple manche de serpe_, are fair specimens of the ingenuity that has been lavished. far less offending have been the ludicrous forms of asseveration popular in the lower ranks of french society, and one of which it is sufficient to mention as occurring in a curious rhyme of the last century,[ ] where among other things is found characterised the pseudo-nuptials of a certain abbess and a dignitary of the church-- "mais, _par la vertu d'un oignon_, ils sont mariés environ, comme l'est l'évêque de chartres avec l'abbesse de montmartres." it is not improbable that a great deal of the aversion that is associated with the practice of swearing is due to the custom of those novelists who are in the habit of screening their oaths behind the most transparent of disguises. to denote an expletive by its initial letter followed with a dash is really to attract undue attention to that which the writer acknowledges himself ashamed of printing. the contrivance serves no useful purpose, and, if we are not mistaken, the more robust of modern novelists have eschewed it altogether. very different in this respect is the device adopted by dickens in one of the most entertaining of his romances. readers of 'great expectations' will remember the description of mr. william barley. this presents us with a picture of a water-logged old ship's captain, who, as he lay through the long hours of the day and night upon his uneasy mattress, never ceased to hold communion with himself in anything but a strain of piety--"ahoy! bless your eyes, here's old bill barley! here's old bill barley on the flat of his back, by the lord! lying on the flat of his back, like a drifting old dead flounder; here's old bill barley, bless your eyes. ahoy! bless you!" of course the point of this monologue lies in the fact that the supposed blessings are really substituted by the novelist for desires of a very opposite description. there are few pictures we would less willingly omit from the gallery of the author's creations. we have here the portraiture of one among that godless but soft-hearted race of veterans who have alternately bullied and blustered, or cried and whimpered, throughout many ages of fiction and melodrama. and in depicting this type of character writers have invariably felt it their bounden duty to give full prominence to this fateful gift of swearing. with much discretion the novelist has in the present instance invented a subterfuge, which, while it does not rob mr. barley of his idiosyncrasies of speech, leaves an amused and not an offensive impression behind it. we are, in fact, called in to assist at a very quiet piece of human contradiction. we are presented to the prone barley in his state of helplessness and suffering, and at the same time are given to understand that the sufferer derives comfort and consolation from nothing so much as a downright plunge into the torrent of bad language. in these wandering musings of the complaining old sea-captain there is suggested one of the many spells that are exercised by the force of imprecation. there is no paucity of men, whether dejected, dissatisfied or penurious, who are wont to apostrophise some imagined effigy of themselves, or to construct some idealised fabric as a monument of their lives, and stalk it abroad for their own and for other men's wonderment. and the means they employ to spirit up these creations are not dissimilar to those in use by mr. barley. by declaiming loudly against the ravages of a hard fate that lays them on their backs "like an old dead flounder," the mind is assisted to form a notion of the victims in their prime. by deploring the hardships of fallen fortune the eye of the sympathiser is carried instinctively back to bygone days of supposititious enjoyment. imprecation is seldom absent from these incursions, being, in fact, urgently needed to do duty for closer argumentation. again, as there are men so genial that they swear as a challenge to discontent, so there are men so discontented that they swear as a challenge to geniality. this more unsociable aspect of the subject brings us perforce to the consideration of a term of swearing that contains no element of geniality. of itself it can be accounted nothing but a mere outcome of bombast and vulgarity, appealing as it does to no known passion of the human mind. and yet so widespread is its influence, and so powerful its dominion, that it has been rung out and has reverberated probably more than any other in the great "fisc and exchequer" of abuse. the expletive that it now behoves us to consider is one which has never been adequately treated in a book. we cannot disguise to ourselves that there is much in its unfortunate associations to render its occurrence still exceedingly painful. originating in a senseless freak of language, it has by dint of circumstances become so noisome and offensive, that were it not for the undue power and influence it has usurped, we should hardly be disposed to treat of it at all. but when we mention that it is the ungainly adjective "bloody" that will occupy our attention for the next few pages, we must be allowed to add that it is with the view of stripping the term of its infamous significance, and if possible of dispelling from it the cloud of ill favour and of ill fame, that we venture with less reluctance to grapple with it. with the full knowledge of the abhorrence it has imparted in our day, it is difficult to imagine any unsullied spring-time in the history of so sordid a word. it is the single particle of objuration that has not dared assume, as others have so frequently done, a jaunty or a rollicking demeanour. not in the wildest days of eastcheap revelry did it resound in any one key of vinous harmony. while other epithets may from time to time have received the sanction of conviviality, here is a word that is nothing unless discordant and acrimonious. it is the apt accompaniment of a whining tongue, the fit complement of a verjuice countenance. dirty drunkards hiccup it as they wallow on ale-house floors. morose porters bandy it about on quays and landing-stages. from the low-lying quarters of the towns the word buzzes in your ear with the confusion of a babel. in the cramped narrow streets you are deafened by its whirr and din, as it rises from the throats of the chaffering multitude, from besotted men defiant and vain-glorious in their drink, from shrewish women hissing out rancour and menace in their harsh querulous talk. and yet to look back no further than to the youth of shakespeare, the word had no application beyond such as was seemly, and its history was simple and spotless and without reproach. the one play of 'macbeth' contains an unusual number of instances of its occurrence, all written without any suspicion of an _équivoque_ and dwelt upon with an undoubting sincerity that has become barely possible in a modern work. indeed into such ill company has fallen this true-minded adjective, that it is no longer competent to be admitted to its proper place in an ordinary publication. now and again strong protest has been made against the hard sentence passed upon so well-meaning a term, and authors of taste have demanded its restitution to its former intellectual companionship. in one of her "letters to the author of orion," mrs. e. b. browning throws reserve upon the subject altogether to the winds, and insists upon embracing and cherishing this ill-starred word as a long lost acquaintance. but when shakespeare wrote of "the bloody house of life," there was no need for hesitation in shaping it. it was as unsullied and as transparent as any that might have been placed upon imogen's lips or thrown by hamlet into ophelia's lap. to account for the moral kidnapping that the word has undergone, it behoves us, strangely enough, to set face towards the netherlands, and to hark back there to the campaigns of flushing and deventer, where ben jonson and others of his countrymen are shouldering their pikes under the generalship of vere and stanley. we shall then find it to have been one of the doubtful advantages that were gained by long years of low country soldiering. with the winds and tides that brought home the shoals of broken veterans, there was wafted to this country the flavour of foreign oaths, and among them the renown in speech of the german "blutig." now "blutig" happened to be an inconsequent sort of particle that was employed in all the dialects of germany to denote a sense of the emphatic. it had been chosen throughout the german fatherland to minister to the wants of those defective degrees of comparison which are usually, however, found to be more or less admirably fitted to their purpose. it thus constituted itself a fourth degree, or extra-ultra-superlative. like all verbal contrivances of this kind, it was more especially favoured among the less cultivated students of the forms of grammar, and seems at last to have become recognised as a convenient make-weight with which a reprobate soldiery were accustomed to balance their assertions. it will be at once seen that this alien growth was capable of being readily transplanted to our soil in the shape of its literal counterpart. the circumstance of the words being so nearly identical is sufficient to account for the work of transposition being swiftly and effectually done. but beyond the mere accident of the respective tongues offering an exact literal equivalent, there was nothing in common between the german "blutig" and the english correlative term. as evidenced by the purity of its antecedents, the latter derives nothing of the opprobrium that has devolved upon it by reason of any hereditary defects, far less on account of any of its inherent properties. if ben jonson, who must have been brought face to face with this treasure in its natural home, does not seek to commend it to the keeping of his audiences, we may be sure that in his time at least it had attained no perceptible degree of literary currency. the comic dramatists were agreed at this period as to one canon of dramatic representation. they were accustomed to interlace the serious business of the comedy with mirth-moving interludes in which the more farcical characters of the piece were met together for the purpose, as it seemed, of besprinkling one another with the most aggravating and unpardonable abuse. the ingenuity of writers was ransacked to furnish material for this spirited by-play. collections of all nationalities, and the reserves of all professions and handicrafts, were studiously drawn upon to furnish subject-matter for these wordy encounters. so far as they could help themselves, these shameless dramatists left no word unsaid that could increase the strife of tongues and raise a smile at the energy or possibly the grossness of the jargon. but as yet the epithet in question found no place in the prompt-book, and continued to be omitted from their vocabularies. had bohemian society even partially adopted it, it would be difficult to imagine the humours of the artillery garden, or the disorders of ruffians' hall and turnbull street,[ ] being glibly depicted by these outspoken playwrights without recourse being had to the services of this unconscionable adjective. shakespeare, himself probably the greatest exponent of the arts of scurrility, is totally exempt from any blameworthy intention in applying the word in the manner he so frequently uses it. but as years wore on the relish of foreign and far-travelled terms grew upon the public taste with surprising rapidity. a novelty must be extremely popular to enable it to become vulgar, and must even be liked before it can be thoroughly hated. "bloody" was no exception to the rule, and enjoyed a brief day of estimation and patronage. men of refinement and high culture adopted it rather as an article of scholarly adornment. dryden uses it in this way, as does swift. play-writers heralded it on the stage, bestowing upon it the passport of literary sanction. in sir george etheredge's comedy, 'the man of mode,' a play that was witnessed by society with unbounded approval, the final stage in the process of abduction is plainly indicated. says one of the characters, referring to the importunities of a tipsy vagrant, "give him half-a-crown!" to which the other replies, "not without he will promise to be bloody drunk!" in this way it would seem that the ball was set rolling. how the game has continued to be played we are most of us aware. it calls for no particular skill on the part of the players, neither does the sport appear to decline for want of appreciation. that it was received at its first incoming with a kind of _éclat_ is not so surprising as is the strange attachment that for upwards of two centuries has been manifested by some ranks of society towards this discreditable word. its first flush of approval may have been due to a certain element of whimsicality. this at least is a sensation frequently conveyed by the occurrence of any meaningless affectation. but, however this may be, it certainly was not at the first outset the mere grovelling and unmitigated blackguardism which it was very shortly to be. dean swift, full of wit and penury, writing from his london lodging to stella in her comfortable irish home, breaks into frequent outbursts at the scantiness of his comforts. one october, when removed to windsor, he is particularly tried by the severity of the autumnal weather, but the terms in which, addressing a well-bred woman, he expresses his discomfort are striking, as showing the strange vicissitudes that language may undergo. "it grows bloody cold," he writes--and one may well imagine the chilled extremities of the reverend dean--"it grows bloody cold, and i have no waistcoat." in support of the view that there is nothing in the inherent properties of the word, or even in the range and frequency of its use, to account for the degraded position it has occupied in modern times, we have only to inquire whether any similar treatment has been the fate of the equivalent word in the language of france. what do we find? the french _sanglant_ has even a wider sphere of application, and in its legitimate sense is even a greater favourite than our own adjective, but no such evil days have overtaken it. it can be used literally, as in the case of _viande sanglante_, or metaphorically, as in _un sanglant affront_ or the aphorism _la sanglante raillerie blesse et ne corrige pas_, but not at any time is it found to deviate from the paths of decency. everything, we consider, favours the idea we have formed of our stately english word proceeding soberly and reputably upon its honest course only to become the victim of this species of subversive horse-play at the hands of professed word-corrupters. appreciative of the objurgatory advantages of the german _blutig_, they were indifferent to any affront they might pass upon the english tongue. from that time forward the word was branded as infamous. the manly ring that of right belonged to it, as instanced in such widely different productions as 'piers ploughman,'[ ] or the 'philaster' of beaumont and fletcher,[ ] was becoming no longer possible. in recent days people have sometimes tried to reconcile these opposite tendencies and to endow the word with some amount of literary grace. the best attempt we have noticed in this direction is in a decree of the government of paraguay, which in august instructed its resident in this country that the presence of francisco lopez on paraguayan soil was "a bloody sarcasm to civilisation." the gentleman who penned this document may have been influenced by the example of montaigne[ ] who admitted that he was accustomed to swear "more by imitation than complexion." we have given what we believe to be the rational explanation of this most unwarrantable abduction of the word from its ancient uses. the english language, whose handmaid it was, has never put in a claim to the return of its services, and the professors of that language continue to be scared when they meet with the vulgar changeling at the corner of the street. the principal reason for abhorrence is probably founded upon misapprehension. it is assumed that the expression bears the savour of irreligion. the old catholic oath of "blood and wounds" has been advanced as the origin. so far from this theory being well founded, we rather find the whole brood of catholic oaths to have been swept away by the besom of the reformation long before this expletive had raised its head. neither are we able to support the contention that it takes its rise in the archaic "woundy," which perished in the same fires. it is quite clear that in this instance there is a marked and deep interval between the outgoing of the old form of scurrility and the advent of the new. without being understood to array ourselves on the side of this baneful expression, we desire to acquit it at once of all suspicion of irreligion. the men who originated it had furthest from their minds any inroad upon catholic fervour. it was simply an imported ware, smuggled over in a soldier's knapsack. it was left to linger for a time upon the lips of sutlers and tapsters, and became the plaything of sergeants and backswordsmen, the broken companions who had smelt powder in the german wars. it took will and way from the mere caprices of imitation, that sufficed in time to render it palatable to the wiser and more sober of men. from the time of dean swift downwards, it has mostly suffered from being lamentably unfashionable. association, which can do so much to influence and so little to regulate our dislikes, has insisted in linking this expletive with the classes that are taken to be the more sordid and malignant. it may certainly come into play now and again among those people who are not averse to perpetrating a joke at the expense of a little casual loss of refinement. on these few occasions indeed it would even appear to be tinctured with some slight leaven of good-nature. thus, the sailor appellation of admiral gambier--"old bloody politeful"--must not be inveighed against too hardly. neither need we be too squeamish over a once famous (or infamous) _bon mot_ that passed current in a fashionable club where a certain learned and witty serjeant was wont to repair for his nightly rubber. one evening, after meeting with a stranger at the card-table who held a remarkable number of trumps, he had impatiently inquired who had been his antagonist. on being told that the player was sir so-and-so, bart., the serjeant is reported to have at once rejoined that "he might have known the fellow to have been a baronet by his bloody hand!" but there is a deeper and more solemn aspect in all this than any that we have suggested or advanced. no statistics, could any be collected, no known or imaginable facts, could be trusted to convey the faintest notion of the large place that is occupied in public morals by the presence of this solitary piece of imprecation. those who have opportunities of judging, will be bound to admit that they see in it the plaything and fondling of whole sections of citizen society. in innumerable households, in countless families, if we may so designate those fetid accumulations of humanity that we must here be understood to indicate, there is not an hour of the day--not a moment of the day--in which this virulent and acrid malediction does not send out its empty challenge. how can this moral choke-damp, with all its fatal incrustations, fail to eat away the supports and very framework of the dwelling. it is hard perhaps to pass so heavy a sentence upon seemingly so slight an offence, but we are forced to believe that the very existence and presence of this evil, in its more rampant and impudent state, is of itself conclusive upon the point of good or evil government, upon the question of the predominance of human charity or of the blackest intensity of malice. neither is it the least regrettable circumstance that, considered as a piece of mingled vileness and effrontery, the word has been, and for the matter of that is still likely to be, a most telling and signal success. those who have followed the writer at all closely will have already noticed the irresistible impulse of succeeding generations to secure to themselves the strongest possible anathema with which to carry on all manner of petty hostilities. but until the expletive that is now passing under our consideration was fairly launched upon society, no great measure of success can be said to have crowned their endeavours. the swearing of the pre-reformation era may be adjudged the nearest approach to maledictory perfection, but even that system, admirable as it may have been from the point of view of an accomplished boanerges of the time, was at best but an unstable and fluctuating one, and depended for its efficiency upon the swearer's own powers of invocation. as a rule no two oaths were alike, and men gave you the idea of thinking before they swore. so various a code could hardly be expected to meet with general success, it being as impossible for an individual to invent a really new oath--a new "bloody," for example--as it is said to be impossible to invent a new proverb or a new rhyme for the nursery. imitations can of course be easily contrived, but the genuine product only arises through the seemingly spontaneous consent of approving multitudes. it was precisely in this way that the present abomination was generated. not proceeding from any one man's store of virulence, but resulting from a long process of evolution and development, it at last springs into sudden life, in obedience, it would almost seem, to a nation's clamours. but no sooner was it called into this sphere of activity, than it became, we repeat, a gigantic success. it is the crown and apex of all bad language, the coping-stone of all systems of verbal aggression and abuse. by consent, as it were, of the general conscience it is allowed to have surpassed in vileness and intensity anything of the kind that has been intense or vile. that this stream of pollution should continue to flow, uninterruptedly and with increasing volume, through its inky channel, is one of the gloomiest and grimmest of the minor features of our social life. appendix. _page . feminine oaths._--among the number of feminine expletives may be reckoned ophelia's adjuration "by gis." the derivation has been a source of trouble to the commentators, who profess to see in it a corruption of saint cecily, an abbreviation of saint gislen, or else, as is more probable, a phonetic form of the letters i.h.s. but whatever its derivation, the oath was commonly attributed to the female sex. thus, in preston's 'cambyses,' , it is so employed; and again in the pre-shakespearian play of 'king john' the nuns swear by gis, and the monks, by way of distinction, take their oaths by saint withold. in 'gammer gurton's needle' the oath is placed in the mouth of the old housewife. _page . foreign oaths._--we learn from miss bunbury's 'summer in northern europe,' that the most common form of swearing in sweden is a contraction of "god preserve us," and that hardly a sentence can escape from the lips of the lower orders without being supplemented by this expression--"bevars," the lengthened form of which is "gud bevarva oss." another form of imprecation is "kors" or "kors jesu," the cross of jesus, which the same writer intimates is in great request among the educated orders in sweden. _page . pre-reformation swearing._--the testimony of elyot in 'the boke named the governour,' written in , is very conclusive upon the question. he says: "in dayly communication the mater savoureth nat, except it be as it were seasoned with horrible othes. as by the holy blode of christe, his woundes whiche for our redemption he paynefully suffred, his glorious harte, as it were numbles chopped in pieces. children (whiche abborreth me to remembre) do play with the armes and bones of christe, as they were chery stones. the soule of god, whiche is incomprehensible, and nat to be named of any creature without a wonderfull reverence and drede, is nat onely the othe of great gentilmen, but also so indiscretely abused, that they make it (as i mought saye) their gonnes, wherwith they thunder out thretenynges and terrible menacis, whan they be in their fury, though it be at the damnable playe of dyse. the masse, in which honourable ceremony is lefte unto us the memoriall of christes glorious passion, with his corporall presence in fourme of breade, the invocation of the thre divine persones in one deitie, with all the hole company of blessed spirites and soules elect, is made by custome so simple an othe that it is nowe all most neglected and little regarded of the nobilitie, and is onely used among husbandemen and artificers, onelas some taylour or barbour, as well in his othes as in the excesse of his apparayle, will counterfaite and be lyke a gentilman."--ii. , _ed. croft_. so also roger hutchinson in his 'image of god,' :--"you swearers and blasphemers which use to swear by god's heart, arms, nails, bowels, legs, and hands, learn what these things signify, and leave your abominable oaths." _page . oath by the swan._--it was also the custom during the middle ages to serve with great pomp a pheasant, or some other noble bird, on which the knights swore to visit the holy land. in , philip the good, duke of burgundy, vowed, _sur le faisan_, to go to the deliverance of constantinople. his example was followed by the barons and knights assembled, who, in the words of gibbon, "swore to god, the virgin, the ladies and the pheasant." _page . a swearing corps d'élite._--so long ago as the reign of henry viii. the expression "to swear like a lord" had become proverbial:--"for they wyll say he that swereth depe, swereth like a lorde."--'_the governour_,' _by sir t. elyot_, , _ed. croft_, i. . that the habit was making headway in high places may also be inferred from a bequest in one of the wills preserved in doctors' commons, in which the testator bequeathed a legacy of twenty shillings on condition that the legatee should desist from swearing. the will is that of sir david owen, a natural son of owen tudor, and is dated . _page . sir david lindsay._--some idea of the fecundity of the old poet in the matter of expletives is conveyed by the catalogue of oaths culled from the 'satyre of the three estaitis' and added to chalmers' edition of lindsay, published in . the list is as follows:-- "be cokis passion. be godis passion. be cok's deir passion. be cok's tois. be god's wounds. be god's croce. be god's mother. be god's breid. be god's gown. be god himsell. be greit god that all has wrocht. be him that made the mone. be the gude lord. be him that wore the crown of thorn. be him that bare the cruel crown of thorn. be him that herryit hell. be him that judas sauld. be the rude. be the trinity; be the haly trinity. be the sacrament; be the haly sacrament. be the messe. be him that our lord jesus sauld. be him that deir jesus sauld. be our lady; be sainct mary; be sweit sainct mary; be mary bricht. be alhallows. be sanct james. be sanct michell. be sanct ann. be sanct bryde; be bryde's bell. be sanct geill; be sweit sanct geill. be sanct blais. be sanct blane. be sanct clone; be sanct clune. be sanct allan. be sanct fillane. be sanct tan. be sanct dyonis of france. be sanct maverne. be the gude lady that me bare. be my saul. be my thrift. be my christendom. be this day." against this list we may place a similar catalogue of objurgations extracted from the old play of 'gammer gurton's needle,' acted at cambridge in . this work, ascribed to john still, bishop of bath and wells, very plainly depicts the condition of rustic manners at the period at which it was written:-- "by the mass (occurs times). gog's bones ( times). gog's soul ( times). by my father's soul ( times). gog's sacrament ( times). by my troth. by god. by sun and moon. gog's heart ( times). by god's mother. gog's bread ( times). by'r lady ( times). by the cross. by our dear lady of boulogne. saint dunstan. saint dominic. the three kings of cologne. by god and the devil too. by bread and salt ( times). by him that judas sold. gog's cross ( times). by gog's malt ( times). gog's death. gog's blessed body. by god's blest ( times). by gis. by saint benet. by my truth. by cock's mother dear. by saint mary. gog's wounds ( times). by cock's bones. by all hallows. by my fay. by my father's skin. by god's pity ( times). gog's sides ( times)." _page . the deuce!_--a specimen from the english version of 'havelok the dane,' edited by sir f. madden from the manuscript in the laudian collection in the bodleian library, may be appended:-- "'deus!' quoth he, 'hwat may this mene!' he calde bothe arwe men, and kene knithes, and serganz swithe sleie, mo than an hundred."--l. . madden also refers the exclamation, _dash you_ or _dase you_, from the anglo-saxon imprecation _datheit_ which had been caught up from the norman _deshait_. london: printed by william clowes and sons, limited, stamford street and charing cross. footnotes: [ ] ducange. [ ] the laws of hoel the good. [ ] chronicle of robert of gloucester. [ ] ducange. [ ] mezeray, ii. . [ ] sloane ms. no. , xxvi. d.; a manuscript giving details of the grades of students and masters of fence, and of the ceremonial attending taking their degrees. the oath runs, "first you shall swear, so help you god and halidome, and by all the christendome which god gave you at the fount stone, and by the cross of this sword which doth represent unto you the cross which our saviour suffered his most painful deathe upon," &c. [ ] socrates' oath, _by the cabbage_, [greek: ma tên krambên] is given in athenæus, ib. ix. p. . [ ] aristophanes, 'the birds.' [ ] plutarch, quæstion. rom., p. . [ ] 'mariage de figaro,' iii. . [ ] ms. bibliothèque nationale. 'collection complète des mémoires,' vol. viii. [ ] "_williams._ ah, damnation! goddam! _blondel._ goddam! monsieur est anglais apparemment." '_coeur de lion_,' . [ ] 'notes on ancient poetry,' ed. . [ ] one of the last cases where the use of the word produced some coolness on the part of the persons concerned, occurred when a certain bishop in a northern diocese was reported by the local newspaper to have said in a sermon, "that he would not preach in that damned old church any more." the bishop wrote to the paper that he had said "damp old church." the editor, however, declined to question the accuracy of his reporter. [ ] see passage from roger de collerye, given by littré. [ ] 'l'agréable conférence de piarot et janin.' paris, . [ ] "[greek: so] nê ton kuna, amphignoô mentoi ô pôle]" &c.--'_gorgias._' [ ] "on tuesday, march , he and i dined at general paoli's.... we talked of the strange custom of swearing in conversation. the general said that all barbarous nations swore from a certain violence of temper that could not be confined to earth, but was always reaching at the powers above. he said, too, that there was a greater variety of swearing in proportion as there was a greater variety of religious ceremonies."--boswell's '_life of johnson_,' p. . [ ] letter from lynceus at rhodes to diagoras at athens, in 'journal des savants,' , p. . [ ] aldus gellius, xi. . we find these oaths so distributed in terence and plautus, the women swearing by castor and the men by hercules. [ ] herodotus, bk. iv. . it was the _hearth_ of kings of scythia that was dealt with in this way. [ ] for an able article on the five wounds as represented in art, see journal of brit. arch. association for dec. , by the rev. w. sparrow simpson. [ ] 'roba di roma,' by w. w. story, . the writer adds, "a curious feature in the oaths of the italians may be remarked. _dio mio_ is usually an exclamation of sudden surprise or wonder; _madonna mia_, of pity and sorrow, and _per christo_ of hatred and revenge. it is in the name of christ, and not of god as with us, that imprecations, curses, and maledictions are invoked. the reason is very simple. christ is to him the judge and avenger of all, and so represented in every picture he sees, from orcagua's and michael angelo's last judgment down, while the eternal father is a peaceful old figure bending over him." [ ] 'the conversyon of swerers,' . [ ] the identity of ideas that we have referred to as invariably occurring in mediæval writings, whenever they happen to turn upon a similar theme, may be shown by comparison of the following extracts. they are taken from writers of different times and countries, and who are not directly plagiarising one another. dan michael, in the 'ayenbite of inwyt' (modernised), has:-- "these (christians) are worse than the jews that did crucify him. they broke none of his bones. but these break him to pieces smaller than one doth swine in butchery." robert of brunné, in the 'handlyng sinne,' writes:-- "thy oaths do him more grievousness, than all the jews' wickedness; they pained him once and passed away, but thou painest him every day." again, in the 'moralité des blasphémateurs' (circa ):-- "tu luy fais plus dure bataille que les juifz sans nulla faille qui pour toy le crucifierent." [ ] a certain delight in arranging the favourite oaths of his contemporaries and of other historical personages is plainly to be seen in brantôme. in the 'vies des grands capitaines' he throws off a whole string of these cherished devices. "on appeloit ce grand capitaine, monsr. de la trimouille, 'la vraye corps dieu' d'autant que c'estoit son serment ordinaire, ainsin que ces vieux et anciens grands capitaines en ont sceu choisir et avoir aucuns particuliers à eux; comme monsr. de bayard juroit, 'feste dieu, bayard!' monsr. de bourbon, 'saincte barbe!' le prince d'orange, 'saincte nicolas!' le bonne homme m. de la roche du maine juroit 'teste de dieu pleine de reliques!' (où diable alla il chercher celuy là) et autres que je nommerois, plus sangreneux que ceux là." [ ] ch. rozan, 'petites ignorances de la conversation.' [ ] "a shocking practice seems to have been rendered fashionable by the very reprehensible habit of the queen, whose oaths were neither diminutive or rare, for it is said that she never spared an oath in public speech or private conversation when she thought it added energy to either,"--_drake_, '_shakspeare and his times_,' ii. . [ ] j. g. nicholls, 'literary remains of edward vi.' [ ] 'every man out of his humour,' i. . [ ] henry iv., iii. . [ ] see capt. basil hall's 'fragments of voyages and travels,' chap. xvi. p. . [ ] leigh hunt's journal, no. , for jan. , . [ ] 'the colonies,' by col. c. j. napier, . [ ] if any person or persons shall ... profanely swear or curse ... for every such offence the party so offending shall forfeit and pay to the use of the poor of the parish where such offence or offences shall be committed the respective sums hereinafter mentioned; that is to say, every servant, day-labourer, common soldier, or common seaman, one shilling; and every other person two shillings; and in case any of the persons aforesaid shall, after conviction, offend a second time, such person shall forfeit and pay double, and if a third time treble the sum respectively.-- & _william and mary_, c. . [ ] coll. of state papers, domestic, , p. . [ ] borough records of the city of glasgow, - . [ ] aberdeen presbytery records, printed by the spalding club. [ ] within the precincts of royal palaces regulations seem to have been made from time to time to clear the atmosphere of all impious particles. according to a work by alexander howell, the dean of st. paul's, printed in , king henry i. prescribed a scale of fines according to a table as follows:-- {a duke shillings. {a lord do. "if he were: {a squire do. {a yeoman _s._ _d._ {a page, to be whipt." '_a sword against swearers_,' . [ ] jac. i. c. . [ ] jac. i. c. . [ ] office-book of sir henry herbert. collier's 'history of dramatic poetry,' ii. . [ ] coll. of state papers, domestic, - . [ ] whitelock's memorials. [ ] quarter sessions from queen elizabeth to queen anne, by a. h. a. hamilton. . [ ] geo. ii. cap. . there is also a penalty of _s._ for using profane language in the streets under the town police clauses act, , and the metropolitan police act, . [ ] j. p. malcolm, 'manners of london during xvii. century.' [ ] "diary of a sussex tradesman a hundred years ago," printed in sussex arch. coll., vol. xi. [ ] 'the rivals,' act ii. sc. . [ ] "by the lord harry! he should have done with christmas boxes." swift, '_journal to stella_.' [ ] the cloven foot is an evidence of a clean beast, and horns are attributed, pictorially at least, to moses. [ ] edited by sir frederick madden for the roxburgh club, . [ ] 'tristram shandy,' vol. iii. ch. . [ ] 'harangue des habitans de sarcelles,' . [ ] "this same starved justice hath done nothing but prate to me of the wildness of his youth, and the feats he hath done about turnbull street."-- _henry iv._, ii. . [ ] where it is used in the sense of pertaining to kinship--"they are my blody brethren, quod pieres, for god boughte us alle."--'_piers plowman_,' vi. . [ ] where it is met with as a verb--"with my own hands, i'll bloody my own sword." [ ] 'montaigne's essays,' ed. hazlitt, iii. . _october ._ publications of j. c. nimmo and bain, king william street, strand, london, w.c. a handbook of gastronomy (brillat-savarin's "physiologie du goût"), new and complete translation, with original etchings by a. lalauze. printed on china paper. vo, half parchment, gilt top, s. note.--_a limited edition only of this book is printed._ _ready in october._ the fables of la fontaine. _a revised translation from the french._ with original full-page etchings and portrait by a. delierre. super royal vo, cloth, gilt top, s. d. _ready in october._ types from spanish story; or, the old manners and customs of castile. by james mew. with proof etchings on japanese paper by r. de los rios. super royal vo, elegant and _recherché_ binding after the th century, s. d. _ready in october._ the fan. by octave uzanne. illustrations by paul avril. royal vo, cloth, gilt top, s. d. note.--_this is an english edition of the unique and artistic work "l'eventail," and is uniform in style and illustrations with "the sunshade, muff, and glove."_ _ready in october._ the dramatic works of richard brinsley sheridan. with an introductory sketch of the life and genius of sheridan, by richard grant white. three portraits have been etched for this edition--after the painting by sir joshua reynolds, the drawing by corbould, and the sketch originally published in the _gentleman's magazine_. in vols. post vo, cloth. note.--_only a limited number of this edition has been printed._ _ready in october._ a handsome large paper edition of the works of wm. hickling prescott. in volumes vo, cloth (not sold separately). _with portraits printed on india paper._ athenæum. "in point of style prescott ranks with the ablest english historians, and paragraphs may be found in his volumes in which the grace and elegance of addison are combined with robertson's majestic cadence and gibbon's brilliancy." j. lothrop motley. "wherever the english language is spoken over the whole earth his name is perfectly familiar. we all of us know what his place was in america. but i can also say that in eight years ( - ) passed abroad i never met a single educated person of whatever nation that was not acquainted with his fame, and hardly one who had not read his works. no living american name is so widely spread over the whole world." note.--_only a limited number of this edition is printed._ _first three vols. ready in october._ the history of england, from the first invasion by the romans to the accession of william and mary in . by john lingard, d.d. copyright edition, with ten etched portraits. in ten vols. demy vo, cloth, £ , s. this new copyright library edition of "lingard's history of england," besides containing all the latest notes and emendations of the author, with memoir, in enriched with ten portraits, newly etched by damman, of the following personages, viz.:--dr. lingard, edward i., edward iii., cardinal wolsey, cardinal pole, elizabeth, james l, cromwell, charles ii., james ii. note.--_the edition is limited in number, and intending purchasers would do well by ordering early from their respective booksellers._ the times. "no greater service can be rendered to literature than the republication, in a handsome and attractive form, of works which time and the continued approbation of the world have made classical.... this new library edition of dr. lingard's 'history of england,' which has just been published in ten volumes, is an excellent reproduction of a work which had latterly been becoming somewhat scarce, and of which a new edition seems to be really wanted.... the accuracy of lingard's statements on many points of controversy, as well as the genial sobriety of his view, is now recognised." the tablet. "it is with the greatest satisfaction that we welcome this new edition of dr. lingard's 'history of england.' it has long been a desideratum.... no general history of england has appeared which can at all supply the place of lingard, whose painstaking industry and careful research have dispelled many a popular delusion, whose candour always carries his reader with him, and whose clear and even style is never fatiguing. the type and get up of these ten volumes leave nothing to be desired, and they are enriched with excellent portraits in etching." the spectator. "we are glad to see that the demand for dr. lingard's _england_ still continues. few histories give the reader the same impression of exhaustive study. this new edition is excellently printed, and illustrated with ten portraits of the greatest personages in our history." dublin review. "it is pleasant to notice that the demand for lingard continues to be such that publishers venture on a well got-up library edition like the one before us. more than sixty years have gone since the first volume of the first edition was published; many equally pretentious histories have appeared during that space, and have more or less disappeared since, yet lingard lives--is still a recognised and respected authority." the scotsman. "there is no need, at this time of day, to say anything in vindication of the importance, as a standard work, of dr. lingard's 'history of england.' for half a century it has been recognised as a literary achievement of the highest merit, and a monument of the erudition and research of the author.... his book is of the highest value, and should find a place on the shelves of every library. its intrinsic merits are very great. the style is lucid, pointed, and puts no strain upon the reader; and the printer and publisher have neglected nothing that could make this--what it is likely long to remain--the standard edition of a work of great historical and literary value." imaginary conversations. by walter savage landor. in five vols. crown vo, cloth, s. first series--classical dialogues, greek and roman. second series--dialogues of sovereigns and statesmen. third series--dialogues of literary men. fourth series--dialogues of famous women. fifth series--miscellaneous dialogues. note.--_this new edition is printed from the last edition of his works, revised and edited by john forster, and is published by arrangement with the proprietors of the copyright of walter savage landor's works._ the athenæum. "the appearance of this tasteful reprint would seem to indicate that the present generation is at last waking up to the fact that it has neglected a great writer, and if so it is well to begin with landor's most adequate work. it is difficult to overpraise the 'imaginary conversations.' the eulogiums bestowed on the 'conversations' by emerson will, it is to be hoped, lead many to buy this book." scotsman. "an excellent service has been done to the reading public by presenting to it, in five compact volumes, these 'conversations.' admirably printed on good paper, the volumes are handy in shape, and indeed the edition is all that could be desired. when this has been said, it will be understood what a boon has been conferred on the reading public; and it should enable many comparatively poor men to enrich their libraries with a work that will have an enduring interest." literary world. "that the 'imaginary conversations' of walter savage landor are not better known is no doubt largely due to their inaccessibility to most readers, by reason of their cost. this new issue, while handsome enough to find a place in the best of libraries, is not beyond the reach of the ordinary bookbuyer." edinburgh review. "how rich in scholarship! how correct, concise, and pure in style! how full of imagination, wit, and humour! how well informed, how bold in speculation, how various in interest, how universal in sympathy! in these dialogues--making allowance for every shortcoming or excess--the most familiar and the most august shapes of the past are reanimated with vigour, grace, and beauty. we are in the high and goodly company of wits and men of letters; of churchmen, lawyers, and statesmen; of party-men, soldiers, and kings; of the most tender, delicate, and noble women; and of figures that seem this instant to have left for us the agora or the schools of athens, the forum or the senate of rome." the sunshade, muff, and glove. by octave uzanne. illustrations by paul avril. royal vo, cloth, gilt top, s. d. note.--_this is an english edition of the unique and artistic work "l'ombrelle," recently published in paris, and now difficult to be procured. no new edition in french to be produced._ this edition has been printed at the press of monsieur quantin with the same care and wonderful taste as was his french edition. glasgow herald. "'i have but collected a heap of foreign flowers, and brought of my own only the string which binds them together' is the fitting quotation with which m. uzanne closes the preface to his volume on woman's ornaments. the monograph on the sunshade, called by the author 'a little tumbled fantasy,' occupies fully one-half of the volume. it begins with a pleasant invented mythology of the parasol; glances at the sunshade in all countries and times; mentions many famous umbrellas; quotes a number of clever sayings.... to these remarks on the spirit of the book it is necessary to add that the body of it is a dainty marvel of paper, type, and binding; and that what meaning it has looks out on the reader through a hundred argus-eves of many-tinted _photogravures_, exquisitely designed by m. paul avril." athenæum. "the letterpress comprises much amusing 'chit-chat,' and is more solid than it pretends to be. the illustrations contain a good deal that is acceptable on account of their spirit and variety.... this _brochure_ is worth reading, nay, we think it is worth keeping." scotsman. "this book is to be prized, if only because of its text. but this is by no means its sole, we might say, its chief attraction. m. uzanne has had the assistance of m. paul avril as illustrator, and that artist has prepared many designs of singular beauty and gracefulness. it would be difficult to speak too highly of them; they have a piquancy and grace which is in the highest degree attractive. it is one of the prettiest and most attractive volumes we have seen for many a day." the complete angler; or, the contemplative man's recreation, of izaak walton and charles cotton. edited by john major. a new edition, with original etchings ( portraits and vignettes), two impressions of each, one on japanese and one on whatman paper; also, engravings on wood, printed on china paper throughout the text. vo, cloth, gilt top, s. d. the times. "messrs. nimmo & bain, who seem resolved to take a leading place in the production of attractive volumes, have now issued a beautiful edition of walton & cotton's 'angler.' the paper and printing leave nothing to be desired, and the binding is very tasteful." the field. "as works of art mr. tourrier's etchings are admirable, and the printers and publishers have done their work admirably.... a very handsome book, and one which will form a satisfactory present to many an angler." daily telegraph. "to the grand numerical monuments of this book's universal popularity is now added a sumptuous reprint of the edition, with eight brilliant etchings. the woodcuts, fresh and beautiful, are gems of an art now endangered by modern requirements of haste. this volume, so carefully reprinted, is a choice and welcome addition to the piscatorial library." old spanish romances. _illustrated with etchings._ in vols. crown vo, parchment boards or cloth, s. d. per vol. the history of don quixote de la mancha. translated from the spanish of miguel de cervantes saavedra by motteux. with copious notes (including the spanish ballads), and an essay on the life and writings of cervantes by john g. lockhart. preceded by a short notice of the life and works of peter anthony motteux by henri van laun. illustrated with sixteen original etchings by r. de los rios. four volumes. lazarillo de tormes. by don diego mendoza. translated by thomas roscoe. and guzman d'alfarache. by mateo aleman. translated by brady. illustrated with eight original etchings by r. de los rios. two volumes. asmodeus. by le sage. translated from the french. illustrated with four original etchings by r. de los rios. the bachelor of salamanca. by le sage. translated from the french by james townsend. illustrated with four original etchings by r. de los rios. vanillo gonzales; or, the merry bachelor. by le sage. translated from the french. illustrated with four original etchings by r. de los rios. the adventures of gil blas of santillane. translated from the french of le sage by tobias smollett. with biographical and critical notice of le sage by george saintsbury. new edition, carefully revised. illustrated with twelve original etchings by r. de los rios. three volumes. note.--_a small number of above was printed on medium vo laid paper._ the times. "this prettily printed and prettily illustrated collection of spanish romances deserve their welcome from all students of seventeenth century literature." daily telegraph. "a handy and beautiful edition of the works of the spanish masters of romance.... we may say of this edition of the immortal work of cervantes that it is most tastefully and admirably executed, and that it is embellished with a series of striking etchings from the pen of the spanish artist de los rios." scotsman. "handy in form, they are well printed from clear type, and are got up with much elegance; the etchings are full of humour and force. the reading public have reason to congratulate themselves that so neat, compact, and well arranged an edition of romances that can never die is put within their reach. the publishers have spared no pains with them." saturday review. "messrs. nimmo & bain have just brought out a series of spanish prose works in twelve finely got-up volumes." old english romances. _illustrated with etchings._ in vols. crown vo, parchment boards or cloth, s. d. per vol. the life and opinions of tristram shandy, gentleman. by laurence sterne. in two vols. with eight etchings by damman from original drawings by harry furniss. the old english baron: a gothic story. by clara reeve. also the castle of otranto: a gothic story. by horace walpole. in one vol. with two portraits and four original drawings by a. h. tourrier, etched by damman. the arabian nights entertainments. in four vols. carefully revised and corrected from the arabic by jonathan scott, ll.d., oxford. with nineteen original etchings by ad. lalauze. the history of the caliph vathek. by wm. beckford. with notes, critical and explanatory. also rasselas, prince of abyssinia. by samuel johnson. in one vol. with portrait of beckford, and four original etchings, designed by a. h. tourrier, and etched by damman. robinson crusoe. by daniel defoe. in two vols. with biographical memoir, illustrative notes, and eight etchings by m. mouilleron, and portrait by l. flameng. gulliver's travels. by jonathan swift. with five etchings and portrait by ad. lalauze. a sentimental journey. by laurence sterne. also a tale of a tub. by jonathan swift. in one vol. with five etchings and portrait by ed. hedouin. note.--_a small number of above was printed on medium vo laid paper._ the times. "among the numerous handsome reprints which the publishers of the day vie with each other in producing, we have seen nothing of greater merit than this series of twelve volumes. those who have read these masterpieces of the last century in the homely garb of the old editions may be gratified with the opportunity of perusing them with the advantages of large clear print and illustrations of a quality which is rarely bestowed on such re-issues. the series deserves every commendation." athenæum. "a well-printed and tasteful issue of the 'thousand and one nights.' the volumes are convenient in size, and illustrated with lalauze's well-known etchings." magazine of art. "the text of the new four-volume edition of the 'thousand and one nights' just issued by messrs. nimmo & bain is that revised by jonathan scott, from the french of galland; it presents the essentials of these wonderful stories with irresistible authority and directness, and, as mere reading, it is as satisfactory as ever. the edition, which is limited to a thousand copies, is beautifully printed and remarkably well produced. it is illustrated with twenty etchings by lalauze.... in another volume of this series beckford's wild and gloomy 'vathek' appears side by side with johnson's admirable 'rasselas.'" glasgow herald. "the merits of this new issue lie in exquisite clearness of type, completeness; notes and biographical notices, short and pithy; and a number of very fine etchings and portraits. in the 'robinson crusoe,' besides the well-known portrait of defoe by flameng, there are eight exceedingly beautiful etchings by mouilleron.... in fine keeping with the other volumes of the series, uniform in style and illustrations, and as one of the volumes of their famous old english romances, messrs. nimmo & bain have also issued the 'rasselas' of johnson and the 'vathek' of beckford." westminster review. "messrs. nimmo & bain have added to their excellent series of 'old english romances' three new volumes, of which two are devoted to 'tristram shandy,' while the third contains 'the old english baron' and 'the castle of otranto.' take them as they stand, and without attributing to them any qualities but what they really possess, the whole series was well worth reprinting in the elegant and attractive form in which they are now presented to us." the imitation of christ. four books. translated from the latin by rev. w. benham, b.d., _rector of st. edmund, king and martyr, lombard street._ with ten illustrations by j. p. laurens, etched by leopold flameng. crown vo, cloth or parchment boards, s. d. scotsman. "we have not seen a more beautiful edition of 'the imitation of christ' than this one for many a day." magazine of art. "this new edition of the 'imitation' may fairly be regarded as a work of art. it is well and clearly printed; the paper is excellent; each page has its peculiar border, and it is illustrated with ten etchings. further than that the translation is mr. benham's we need say nothing more." essays from the "north american review." edited by allen thorndike rice. demy vo, cloth, s. d. saturday review. "a collection of interesting essays from the _north american review_, beginning with a criticism on the works of walter scott, and ending with papers written by mr. lowell and mr. o. w. holmes. the variety of the essays is noteworthy." alain rené le sage. ( - .) a short history of the life and writings of alain renÉ le sage, _the author of "gil blas,"_ who was born at sarzean on the th of may , and died at boulogne on the th november . by george saintsbury. medium vo, pp., paper covers, s. d. peter anthony motteux. ( - .) a short history of the late mr peter anthony motteux, a native of france, whilom dramatist, china merchant, and auctioneer, who departed this life on the th of february (old style), being then precisely years old. by henri van laun. medium vo, pp., paper covers, s. d. the american patent portable book-case. [illustration] for students, barristers, home libraries, &c. this book-case will be found to be made of very solid and durable material, and of a neat and elegant design. the shelves may be adjusted for books of any size, and will hold from to volumes. as it requires neither nails, screws, or glue, it may be taken to pieces in a few minutes, and reset up in another room or house, where it would be inconvenient to carry a large frame. _full height, ft. - / in.; width, ft. in.; depth of shelf, - / in._ black walnut, price £ , s. nett. "the accompanying sketch illustrates a handy portable book-case of american manufacture, which messrs. nimmo & bain have provided. it is quite different from an ordinary article of furniture, such as upholsterers inflict upon the public, as it is designed expressly for holding the largest possible number of books in the smallest possible amount of space. one of the chief advantages which these book-cases possess is the ease with which they may be taken apart and put together again. no nails or metal screws are employed, nothing but the hand is required to dismantle or reconstruct the case. the parts fit together with mathematical precision; and, from a package of boards of very moderate dimensions, a firm and substantial book-case can be erected in the space of a few minutes. appearances have by no means been overlooked; the panelled sides, bevelled edges, and other simple ornaments, give to the case a very neat and tasteful look. for students, or others whose occupation may involve frequent change of residence, these book-cases will be found most handy and desirable, while, at the same time, they are so substantial, well-made, and convenient, that they will be found equally suitable for the library at home." select list from the catalogue of j. & a. churchill, publishers, new burlington street, as supplied by j. c. nimmo & bain. catalogue of the publications of w. h. allen & co., publishers, waterloo place, as supplied by j. c. nimmo & bain. book-corner protectors. metal tips carefully prepared for placing on the corners of books to preserve them from injury while passing through the post office or being sent by carrier. extract from "the times," april th. "that the publishers and booksellers of america second the efforts of the post office authorities in endeavouring to convey books without damage happening to them is evident from the tips which they use to protect the corners from injury during transit." s. d. per gross, nett. j. c. nimmo & bain, king william street, strand, london, w.c. transcriber's notes: passages in italics are indicated by _italics_. punctuation has been corrected without note. the original text includes greek characters. for this text version these letters have been replaced with transliterations. the misprint "the the" has been corrected to "the" (page ). inconsistencies in spelling and hyphenation have been retained from the original. +------------------------------------------------------------------+ | | | transcriber's notes: | | | | the original language has been maintained, including inconsisten-| | cies in spelling and hyphenation, except as mentioned below. | | | | changes made to the original text: 'chemise type' changed to | | 'chemise-type' as elsewhere; page : closing square bracket | | deleted after 'what an array'; page : quote mark inserted | | before footnote anchor [ ]. | | | | footnotes have been moved to directly underneath the paragraph | | or section they refer to. | | | | texts printed in italics in the original publication have been | | transcribed between underscores, as in _text_; bold-face text is | | represented here between equal signs, as in =text=. small | | capitals in the original are transcribed as all capitals. | | | +------------------------------------------------------------------+ united states national museum bulletin contributions from the museum of history and technology paper women's bathing and swimming costume in the united states _claudia b. kidwell_ introduction cultural environment bathing costume swimming costume conclusions smithsonian institution press city of washington for sale by the superintendent of documents, u.s. government printing office washington, d.c. --price cents (paper cover) [illustration: figure .--bathing costume, from _the delineator_, july . (smithsonian photo .)] _claudia b. kidwell_ _women's bathing and swimming costume in the united states_ _the evolution of the modern swim suit from an unflattering, restrictive bathing dress into an attractive, functional costume is traced from colonial times to the present. this evolution in style reflects not only the increasing involvement of women in aquatic activities but also the changing motivations for feminine participation. the nature of the style changes in aquatic dress were influenced by the fashions of the period, while functional improvements were limited by prevailing standards of modesty. this mutation of the bathing dress to the swim suit demonstrates the changing attitudes and status of women in the united states, from the traditional image of the subordinate "weaker sex" to an equal and active member of the society._ the author: _claudia b. kidwell is assistant curator of american costume, department of civil history, in the smithsonian institution's museum of history and technology._ introduction women's bathing dress holds a unique place in the history of american costume. this specialized garb predates the age of sports costume which arrived during the last half of the th century. although bathing dress shares this distinction with riding costume, the aquatic garb was merely utilitarian in the late th century while riding costume had a fashionable role. from its modest status, bathing gowns and later bathing dresses became more important until their successor, the swimming suit, achieved a permanent place among the outfits worn by th century women. the social significance of this accomplishment was best expressed by foster rhea dulles, author of _america learns to play_, in , when he wrote: the modern bathing-suit ... symbolized the new status of women even more than the short skirts and bobbed hair of the jazz age or the athleticism of the devotees of tennis and golf. it was the final proof of their successful assertion of the right to enjoy whatever recreation they chose, costumed according to the demands of the sport rather than the tabus of an outworn prudery, and to enjoy it in free and natural association with men.[ ] [ ] foster rhea dulles, _america learns to play, - _ (new york: d. appleton-century company, ), p. . since the prescribed limitations of women's role in any given period are determined and affected by many social factors, the evolution of the bathing gown to the swimming suit may not only be dependent upon the changes in the american woman's way of life, but also may reflect certain technological and sociological factors that are not readily identifiable. the purpose of this paper is to describe the changes in women's bathing dress and wherever pertinent to present the factors affecting these styles.[ ] [ ] the author is indebted to mrs. anne w. murray, formerly curator in charge of american costume, smithsonian institution, for the interest she has shown throughout the research and writing of this paper. the difficulties of this work would have been greatly compounded without the benefit of her experience and encouragement. anyone who attempts to research the topic of swimming and related subjects will be confronted with a history of varying reactions. ralph thomas, in , described his experiences through the years that he spent compiling a book on swimming: when asked what i was doing, i have felt the greatest reluctance to say a work on the literature of swimming. people who were writing novels or some other thing of little practical utility always looked at me with a smile of pity on my mentioning swimming. though i am bound to say that, when i gave them some idea of the work, the pity changed somewhat but then they would say "why don't you give us a new edition of your handbook of fictitious names?" as if the knowledge of the real name of an author was of any importance in comparison with the discussion of a subject that more or less concerns every human being.[ ] [ ] ralph thomas, _swimming_ (london: sampson low, marsten & company limited, ), p. . such reactions toward research about swimming probably discouraged many serious efforts of writing about the subject. its scant coverage and even omission in histories of recreation or sports may be explained by the fact that swimming cannot be categorized as simply physical exercise, skill, recreation, or competitive sport. in trying to determine the extent to which women swam in times past it is frustrating to observe the historians' masculine bias in researching and reporting social history. a study of women's bathing dress meets with similar problems, and while a discussion of bathing dress can evoke considerable interest, its nature is usually considered more superficial than serious. descriptions of, and even brief references to, bathing apparel for women are very scarce before the third quarter of the th century. before this time only decorative costume items were considered worthy of description and bathing costume was not in this category. it is only within comparatively recent times that costume historians have conceded sufficient importance to bathing dress to include meaningful descriptions in their research. participation in water activities was widespread in the ancient world although the earliest origins of this activity are unknown. for example, in greece and, later, in rome, swimming was valued as a pleasurable exercise and superb physical training for warriors. the more sedentary citizens turned to the baths which became the gathering point for professional men, philosophers, and students. thus bathing and swimming, combined originally to fulfill the functions of cleansing and exercise purely for physical well being, developed the secondary functions of recreation and social intercourse. with the rise of the christian church and its spreading anti-pagan attitudes, many of the sumptuous baths were destroyed. christian asceticism also may have contributed to the decline of bathing for cleansing. in addition there was a secular belief that outdoor bathing helped to spread the fearful epidemics that periodically swept the continent. although there is isolated evidence that swimming was valued as a physical skill,[ ] swimming and bathing all but disappeared during the middle ages. [ ] joseph strutt, _the sports and pastimes of the people of england_ (london: chatto and windus, ), pp. - . in , long after the middle ages, sir thomas elyot wrote of swimming that there is an exercise, whyche is right profitable in extreme danger of warres, but ... it hathe not ben of longe tyme muche used, specially amoge noble men, perchaunce some reders whl lyttell esteeme it.[ ] [ ] sir thomas elyot, _the boke named the governour_ (london, ), vol. , pp. - . this early english writer gave no instructions, but expounded on the value of swimming as a skill that could be useful in time of war. it herewith becomes necessary to differentiate between bathing and swimming with their attendant goals, for it was the goals of each activity which influenced the associated customs and costume designs. for this discussion we shall define bathing as the act of immersing all or part of the body in water for cleansing, therapeutic, recreational, or religious purposes, and swimming as the self-propulsion of the body through water. when we refer to swimming it is necessary to distinguish whether it was considered a useful skill, a therapeutic exercise, a recreation, or a competitive sport. thus it is important to note that while bathing for all purposes and swimming as a physical exercise, recreation, and sport died out during the middle ages, the latter continued to be valued as a skill, particularly for warriors. this function of swimming survived to form the link between the ancients and the th century. according to ralph thomas, the first book on swimming was written by nicolas winmann, a professor of languages at ingolstadt in bavaria, and printed in . the first book published in england on swimming was written in latin by everard digby and printed in . as thomas has stated, digby's book ... is entitled to a far more important place than the first of the world, because, whereas winmann had never (up to ) been translated or copied or even quoted by any one, digby has been three times translated; twice into english and once into french and through this latter became and probably still is the best known treatise on the subject.[ ] [ ] thomas, op. cit. (footnote ), p. . this french version was first published in with its purported author being monsieur melchisédesh thévenot. in his introduction thévenot indicates that he has made use of digby's book in his own treatise and that he knows of winmann's publication. the english translation of thévenot's version became the standard instruction book for english-speaking peoples. typically, his reasons in favor of men swimming were based on its being a useful skill (i.e., to keep from being drowned in a shipwreck, to escape capture when being pursued by enemies, and to attack an enemy posted on the opposite side of a river).[ ] [ ] melchisÉdesh thÉvenot, _the art of swimming_ (london: john lever, ), pp. - . in the th and th centuries numerous other publications on swimming appeared--too numerous to deal with in this paper. nevertheless, the refinement of the art of swimming was not related to the number of instruction books. few of these books actually offered new insights in comparison with those that were outright plagiarisms or filled with misinformation. in the meantime, bathing was reintroduced and as this activity became more widespread swimming was regarded as more than a useful skill, but only for men. there is little evidence of women bathing or swimming prior to the th century; these activities seem to have been exclusively for men. nevertheless, thomas refers to winmann as writing, in , that at zurich in his day (thus implying that he was an elderly man and that the custom had ceased) the young men and maidens bathed together around the statue of "saint nicolai." even in those days his pupil asks "were not the girls ashamed of being naked?" "no, as they wore bathing drawers--sometimes a marriage was brought about." if any young man failed to bring up stones from the bottom, when he dived, he had to suffer the penalty of wearing drawers like the girls.[ ] [ ] thomas, op. cit. (footnote ), p. . thomas goes on to say that the only evidence he had found of women swimming in england in early days was in a ballad entitled "the swimming lady" and dating from about . despite these isolated references it was not until the th century that women were encouraged to swim. after its decline in the middle ages, bathing achieved new popularity as a medicinal treatment for both men and women. in england this revival occurred in the th century when certain medical men held that bathing in fresh water had healing properties. the resultant spas, which were developed at freshwater springs to effect such "cures," expanded rapidly as the number of their devotees increased. by the mid- th century, rival practitioners claimed even greater health-giving properties for sea water both as a drink and for bathing. an economic benefit resulted when, tiny, poverty-stricken fishing hamlets became famous through the patronage of the wealthy in search of health as well as pleasure. when the early colonists left england in the first half of the th century, the beliefs and practices they had acquired in their original homes were brought to the new world. thus, it is important to note that during this period in europe, swimming was a skill practiced by few, primarily soldiers and sailors. it was not until the second half of the century that bathing for therapeutic purposes was becoming popular in the old world. the earliest reference to women's bathing costume has been quoted previously in winmann's amazing description of mixed bathing at zurich. he referred to women, wearing only drawers, bathing with men as a custom no longer practiced when he wrote his book in . one of the earliest illustrations of bathing costume i have located is part of a painted fan leaf, about , that was reproduced in volume of maurice leloir's _histoire du costume de l'antiquité_ in . in one corner of this painting, which depicts a variety of activities going on in the seine and on the river banks at paris, women are shown immersing themselves in water within a covered wooden frame. they are wearing loose, light-colored gowns and long headdresses. an english source of the late th century described a very similar costume. the ladye goes into the bath with garments made of yellow canvas, which is stiff and made large with great sleeves like a parson's gown. the water fills it up so that it's borne off that your shape is not seen, it does not cling close as other lining.[ ] [ ] celia fiennes, _through england on horseback_, as quoted in iris brooke and james laver, _english costume from the fourteenth through the nineteenth century_ (new york: the macmillan company, ), p. . in the course of my contacts with other costume historians i have encountered the belief that women did not wear any bathing costume before the mid- th century. supporting this theory i have seen a reproduction of a print, about , showing women bathing nude in the ocean at margate, england, but the evidence already presented indicates clearly that costume was worn earlier. also certain english secondary sources refer to a nondescript chemise-type of bathing dress that was worn during the first quarter of the th century. because little study has been given european bathing costume, it is not possible to conjecture under what circumstances costume was or was not used. we do know, however, that when bathing became popular in the new world bathing gowns were worn by some women in the old. cultural environment as many european cultural traits were transmitted to the new world via england, so was the introduction of water activities. nevertheless it required a number of years for such cultural refinements as bathing to take root in the new environment. the early colonists brought with them a limited knowledge of swimming, but they did not have the leisure to cultivate this skill. in new england the puritan religious and social beliefs were as restrictive as the lack of leisure time. in this harsh climate, self-indulgence in swimming and bathing did not fulfill the requirements of being righteous and useful. thus the growing popularity of bathing among the wealthy in europe during the th and early th centuries had little initial impact in the new world. although swimming as a skill predated the introduction of bathing to the new world, i will first discuss bathing since the customs and facilities established for it reveal the development of swimming in america, first for men and then for women. bathing one of the earliest sources showing an appreciation of mineral waters for bathing in the new world is a reference in george washington's diary to the "fam'd warm springs."[ ] at that time only open ground surrounded the springs which were located within a dense forest. [ ] george washington, _the writings of george washington_, john c. fitzpatrick, ed. (washington: united states congress, ), vol. , p. . another entry for july , , records his departure with mrs. washington for these springs (now known as berkeley springs, west virginia) where they stayed more than a month. they were accompanied by her daughter, patsy custis, who was probably taken in hope of curing a form of epilepsy with which she was afflicted. in the latter part of the th century hundreds of visitors annually flocked to these springs. although the accommodations were primitive, we early note that the avowed therapeutic aims for visiting these waters were very quickly combined with a growing social life on dry land. rude log huts, board and canvas tents, and even covered wagons, served as lodging rooms, while every party brought its own substantial provisions of flour, meat and bacon, depending for lighter articles of diet on the "hill folk," or the success of their own foragers. a large hollow scooped in the sand, surrounded by a screen of pine brush, was the only bathing-house; and this was used alternately by ladies and gentlemen. the time set apart for the ladies was announced by a blast on a long tin horn, at which signal all of the opposite sex retired to a prescribed distance, ... here day and night passed in a round of eating and drinking, bathing, fiddling, dancing, and reveling. gaming was carried to a great excess and horse-racing was a daily amusement.[ ] [ ] john j. moorman, _the virginia springs_ (richmond: j. w. randolph, ), pp. - . the more permanent bath houses found at the increasing number of springs in the early th century were really only shanties built where the water bubbled up. nevertheless, as civilization moved in upon these resorts, the current taboos and mores were soon imposed. these gave rise to customs, facilities, and inventions peculiar to the pastime. the more permanent facilities carefully separated men from women. frequently the women's bath was located a considerable distance from the men's and surrounded by a high fence. female attendants were at hand to wait upon the ladies, and private rooms were prepared for their use both before and after bathing. in the early th century the fame of berkeley springs was eclipsed temporarily by the growing popularity of other springs, such as saratoga in the north and white sulphur springs in the south. the newest facilities, however, and the completion of the baltimore and ohio railroad, restored berkeley to its former prosperity in the early s. the bath houses at berkeley springs in the s are an example of the facilities that were considered convenient, extensive, and elegant during this period. the gentlemen's bath house contained fourteen dressing rooms and ten large bathing rooms. in addition to the plunge baths, which were twelve feet long, five feet wide, and four and a half feet deep, the men had a swimming bath that was sixty feet long, twenty feet wide, and five feet deep. the ladies' and men's bath houses were located on opposite sides of the grove. as if this were not reassuring enough, we are told that the building for the weaker sex was surrounded by several acres of trees. thus protected, feminine bathers could choose either one of the nine private baths or the plunge bath, which was thirty feet long by sixteen feet wide and four and a half feet deep, as well as use a shower or artificial warm baths.[ ] [ ] ibid., p. . the differences between the two bath houses show that women were not as active in the water as the men. judging from the kind of facilities that were provided at berkeley springs, the ladies did less "plunging" than the men and no swimming. although accepted in england, bathing in =salt= water did not become popular in the new world until some time after bathing at springs was established. in a mr. bailey announced that he planned to institute "bathing machines and several species of entertainment" at his resort on long island.[ ] "a machine of peculiar construction for bathing in the open sea" was advertised a few years later by a hotel proprietor at nahant, massachusetts.[ ] there is some question as to what the term "bathing machine" describes. existing records show that w. merritt of new york city received a patent dated february , , for a "bathing machine." unfortunately neither a description nor a drawing can be found today. european patents from the first half of the th century reveal that a bathing machine could be a contraption in which an individual bathed in privacy. this is what the above quotations seem to be describing. in general usage, however, "bathing machine" could also have been a device in which an individual removed his clothing to prepare for bathing; this type will be described later. [ ] henry wansay, _an excursion to the united states_ (salisbury: j. easton, ), p. , as quoted in dulles, _america learns to play_, p. . [ ] fred allan wilson, _some annals of nahant_ (boston: old corner book store, ), p. , as quoted in dulles, _america learns to play_, p. . by the early th century floating baths were established in every city of any importance including boston, salem, hartford, new york, philadelphia, washington, richmond, charleston, and savannah. one bath located at the foot of jay street in new york city was described as follows: the building is an octagon of seventy feet in diameter, with a plank floor supported by logs so as to sink the center bath four feet below the surface of the water, but in the private baths the water may be reduced to three or even two feet so as to be perfectly safe for children. it is placed in the current so always to be supplied with ocean and pure water and rises and falls with the tide.[ ] [ ] _new york evening post_ (june , ). as was true at the springs, men and women were segregated; but in the floating baths they were only separated by being in different compartments rather than in different bath houses. although there were a number of these baths there were not enough to cover all of the inviting river banks and sea shores. there are many instances of men enjoying the water of undeveloped shores and there is some evidence of women venturing into the bays and rivers (fig. ). [illustration: figure .--"bathing party, ," painting by william p. chappel. (_courtesy of museum of the city of new york._)] nevertheless, few women ventured into the open ocean during the early th century. they were generally afraid to brave the force of the ocean waves with only a female companion, since prevailing attitudes regarding the proper behavior of a lady prevented them from being accompanied by a man. when a few ignored this dictate, their bold actions gave rise to "ill-founded stories of want of delicacy on the part of the females."[ ] an unbiased traveler, who gave an account of this mixed bathing in , stated that parties always went into the water completely dressed and for that reason he could see no great violation of modesty. mixed bathing at the seashore (fig. ) was gaining acceptance, however, when it was reported only thirteen years later that "... ladies and gentlemen bathe in company, as is the fashion all along the atlantic coast...."[ ] [ ] james stuart, _three years in north america_ (edinburgh: robert cadwell, ), vol. , p. . [ ] j. w. and n. orr, _orr's book of swimming_ (new york: burns and baner, ) as quoted in thomas, op. cit. (footnote ), p. . in place of the dressing rooms available in the floating baths, special facilities were frequently provided. the bathing machine--in this case a device in which one changed clothes--was used where there was a gentle slope down to the water. this species of bathing machine was a small wooden cabin set on very high wheels with steps leading down from a door in the front. the bather entered and, while he was changing, the machine was pulled into the sea by a horse. when water was well above the axles the horse was uncoupled and taken ashore. the bather was then free to enter the sea by descending the steps pointed away from the shore (fig. ). machines of the th and early th century were frequently equipped with an awning which shielded the bather from public view as she or he descended the steps to enter the water. these awnings were left off the bathing machines during the last half of the th century. such machines were used to a great extent in europe during the th and th centuries. in the united states, however, they were used only to a limited extent during the first half of the th century. by they had practically disappeared--being replaced by the stationary, sentry-box type of individual structure and the large communal bath house. "sentry-boxes" were used before the s at beaches where the terrain did not encourage the use of the bathing machines. at long branch, new jersey, and at one of the beaches at newport, rhode island, lines of these stationary structures were available to the bather for changing, one half designated for women and the other half for men. hours varied but it was the practice to run up colored flags to signal bathing times for the ladies and then the gentlemen. a male correspondent wrote from newport in : if you are social and wish to bathe promiscuously, you put on a dress and go in with the ladies, if you want to cultivate the "fine and froggy art of swimming," unencumbered by attire, you wait until the twelve o'clock red-flag is run up--when the ladies retire.[ ] [ ] "life at watering-places--our newport correspondent," _frank leslie's illustrated newspaper_ (august , ), vol. , no. , p. . from its early beginnings, in the late th and early th century, the summer excursion to the resorts and spas grew in popularity. in , a writer of a philadelphia fashion report explained that very few ladies of fashion are now in town, most of them being birds of passage during the last of july and all of august. most americans seem to have adopted the fashion of visiting watering-places through the summer.[ ] [ ] "chit-chat upon philadelphia fashions for august," _godey's lady's book_ (august ), vol. , p. . as the summer excursion became a social event, the recreational possibilities of bathing overshadowed its earlier therapeutic function. bathing became part of an increasingly elaborate schedule of activities where each event--bathing, dining, concerts, balls, promenades, carriage rides--had its appointed time, place, and proper costume. [illustration: figure .--"scene at cape may," _godey's lady's book_, august . (_courtesy of the new york public library._)] in addition to stiff ocean breezes, seaside resorts had an extra appeal that beguiled visitors away from the spas--namely mixed bathing. for during the bathing hour at the seashore all the stiffness and etiquette of select society was abandoned to pleasure. again and again i try it. deliriusm! i forget even miss ----, and dive headforemost into the billows. i rush to meet them. i jump on their backs. i ride on their combs, or i let them roll over me.... i am in the thickest of the bathers, and amid the roar of waves, am driven wild with excitement by the shouts of laughter; burst of noisy merriment, and little jolly female shrieks of fun. all are wild with excitement, ducking, diving, splashing, floating, rollicking.[ ] [ ] "my first day at cape may," _peterson's magazine_ (august ), vol. , no. , p. . thus bathing was transformed from a medicinal treatment to a pleasurable pursuit. excursionists had to be hardy individuals, firm in their resolve to complete their trip. although many railroad lines had been completed by the s, transportation problems were by no means solved. for example, a new york tourist who planned to enjoy a summer at lake george had to travel by boat from new york city to albany and troy, then by railroad to morean corner, and, finally, by stage to the lake. after listing the difficulties endured by excursionists, a particularly embittered correspondent commented in , "... we envy these happy people in nothing but the power to be idle."[ ] [ ] _frank leslie's illustrated newspaper_ (july , ), vol. , no. , p. . [illustration: figure .--"the bathe at newport," by winslow homer, _harper's weekly newspaper_, september . (smithsonian photo .)] by the s, travel facilities were rapidly being improved and many new summer resorts were established which appealed to a larger segment of the population. comparatively few can stay long at one time at the springs or seaside resorts, and hence the peculiar value of arrangements like those for enabling multitudes to take frequent short pleasant excursions down the new york bay and along the atlantic coast, as well as up the hudson, and through long island sound.[ ] [ ] "summer recreation," _frank leslie's illustrated newspaper_ (june , ), vol. , no. , p. . beaches that catered to a large cross-section of the population provided a wide variety of informal activities that replaced the established functions found at the more select bathing resorts. for example, the illustration of coney island in (fig. ) shows a puppet show; pony rides for children; a hurdy gurdy; vendors of walking sticks, sunglasses, and food; and guide ropes in the water for timid bathers. [illustration: figure .--"scenes and incidents on coney island," _harper's weekly newspaper_, august . (smithsonian photo .)] in the s foreign visitors were impressed by american concern with finding opportunities to play; early in the century they had remarked on the apparent lack of interest in amusements. the term, "summer resorts," no longer referred to a relatively small number of fashionable watering places. the _new york tribune_ was running eight columns of summer hotel advertisements aimed directly at the middle class. the popular _summer tourist and excursion guide_ listed moderate-priced hotels and railroad excursions; it was a far departure from the fashionable tour of the s. thus, as economic and technological factors changed, bathing was transformed from a medicinal treatment for the leisure class to a recreation enjoyed by a large portion of the population. swimming as has been stated earlier, swimming was being practiced by men in europe when the early colonists were leaving their old homes. nevertheless, the task of establishing new homes left them little time to practice the "art of swimming" or to teach it to fellow colonists. benjamin franklin is no doubt the most famous early proponent of swimming in the colonies. in his autobiography written in the form of a letter to his son in , franklin revealed his early interest in swimming. i had from a child been delighted with this exercise, had studied and practiced thévenot's motions and position, and added some of my own, aiming at the graceful and easy, as well as the useful.[ ] [ ] jared sparks, _the works of benjamin franklin_ (boston: tappan and whittemore, ), vol. i, pp. - . benjamin franklin used every opportunity to encourage his friends to learn to swim, as i wish all men were taught to do in their youth; they would, on many occurrences, be the safer for having that skill, and on many more the happier, as freer from painful apprehensions of danger, to say nothing of the enjoyment in so delightful and wholesome an exercise.[ ] [ ] j. frost, _the art of swimming_ (new york: p. w. gallaudet, ), p. . not only was franklin in favor of being able to swim but when requested he advised friends on methods for how to teach oneself. his instructions, in his letter of september , to mr. oliver neale, were published a number of times even as late as the s. america's first swimming school was established at boston in by francis liefer. two expert swimmers, john quincy adams and john james audubon, the ornithologist, visited the school and each expressed delight at having found such an establishment. numerous books instructing men how to swim were brought into the united states in the early th century and some were republished here, but the first original work (i.e., not a plagiarism) by an american was not published until . in this book the author, james arlington bennet, m.d., ll.d., based his instructions upon his own personal observations as an experienced swimmer. dr. bennet's publication requires special note not only due to the basic value of the information but because of the extraordinary title (i.e., _the art of swimming exemplified by diagrams from which both sexes may learn to swim and float on the water; and rules for all kinds of bathing in the preservation of health and cure of disease, with the management of diet from infancy to old age, and a valuable remedy against sea-sickness_). thanks to this explicit title we learn that dr. bennet was in favor of women learning to swim. this energetic aquatic activity had long been considered a masculine skill and, despite such a significant publication, this attitude continued until much later in the century. we have already noted in a previous discussion that the berkeley springs bath houses of the s provided a swimming bath for men but no similar facilities for women. also at certain seaside resorts of the same period, a special time was set for men to practice the art of swimming without clothing, but women had no similar opportunity. when the ladies entered the water they were clothed from head to toe because men were also present. the description of women's bathing costume, which will appear in a later section, clearly shows that women could do little more than try to maintain their footing. undoubtedly some "brazen" women did find the opportunity to swim, but the general attitude was that women should only immerse themselves in water. by the s there was a widespread health movement which gave additional momentum to the belief that physical exercise was good for one's well-being. as a result, women were being encouraged to emerge from their state of physical inactivity imposed by social custom. swimming had already gained recognition as a healthful exercise for men, but with this fresh approach it was even being suggested that women should swim. a column that appeared in , entitled "physical exercise for females," asserted that bathing, as it is practiced at our coast resorts, is, no doubt, a delightful recreation; but if to it swimming could be added, the delight would be increased, and the possible use and advantage much extended.[ ] [ ] _frank leslie's illustrated newspaper_ (august , ), vol. , no. , p. . in answer to the possible objection that the facilities for teaching were not always available, the writer maintained that in addition to the seashore there were rivers, lakes, and ponds as well as the swimming baths found in most large cities. he further asserted that if the demand were great enough, certain days could be appropriated exclusively to women as was done in some of the london baths. the type of baths referred to in this case were not built simply to supply a health-giving treatment or for recreation as described earlier. as part of the health movement mentioned above, there was a growing concern in regards to personal cleansing; it was realized that merely splashing water on the face in the morning was not sufficient for good personal hygiene. while facilities for washing the whole body were being installed in wealthy homes, there was also a growing concern for the masses of people who could not afford such extravagance. thus philanthropic individuals encouraged the building of public swimming baths in densely populated, low income areas. it was hoped that, although the patrons would be covered by bathing costume and would be seeking refreshment and recreation, this unaccustomed contact with water would improve their personal hygiene. in a reporter for _leslie's_, who was describing two elegant large bathhouses (the type described above) in new york city, stated that mondays, wednesdays, and fridays were set apart for ladies and tuesdays, thursdays, and saturdays for gentlemen. these baths became quite popular in the large cities, particularly among people who could not afford the time or money to make trips even to the near seaside resorts. by the s they were so popular that bathing time was scheduled to allow many sets of bathers to enjoy the water. thus a number of women who had probably never been completely covered with water before had the opportunity to learn to swim. while women were being encouraged to practice swimming as a healthful exercise, this activity was being recognized as a recreation and sport for men. the increasing affluence during the last three decades of the th century, which made possible the widespread popularity of summer excursions, encouraged swimming as an individual pastime as well as a growing spectator sport. this was true not only for swimming but for nearly every sport we enjoy today. in a reporter wrote: it is not underrating the interest attached to yachting or rowing matches, to say that swimming clubs and swimming matches can be made to create wider and more useful emulation among "the million" who can never participate in or benefit by those notable trials of skill and muscle.[ ] [ ] ibid. (july , ), vol. , no. , p. . by the s this growing interest in spectator and individual sports evidenced several interesting results. separate sporting pages were established in the formats of many newspapers. in addition to being a summer pastime, "the art of swimming" became an intercollegiate and olympic sport, and was included on the roster of events for the revival of the olympic games held in athens. innovations in facilities and techniques helped to alter the character of swimming. the most notable of these were the development of the indoor pool and the introductions of the crawl stroke into the united states. it was in this time period that swimming for women was becoming socially acceptable. in , goucher college, a prominent girls' school, built its own indoor pool and the following year swimming was listed in its catalog for the first time. writers, in turn, no longer felt it necessary to convince readers that women should be more active in the water, but concentrated instead on what a woman should know when she swims. this changing attitude gained world-wide recognition in at stockholm when the -meter swimming event for women was included in the schedule. the period of prosperity following world war i brought a marked increase in the appreciation of recreation, resulting in an increase of swimming pools and available beaches. indoor pools, which made swimming a year-round activity, were becoming even more numerous than beaches. swimming was now established as a sport and a recreation for both men and women. according to a magazine article in the _delineator_, seldom was a swimming meet held anywhere in the country without events for women. at palm beach, however, one of the few remaining citadels of "high society," an axiom of fashion dictated that a lady or gentleman not go into the water before : in the morning; should one do so, one ran the risk of being taken for a maid or valet. the masses, however, swam for pleasure without regard to the inhibitions of high fashion. this period was also marked by the advent of swimming personalities of both sexes. johnny weissmuller became a popular hero for his accomplishments in competitive swimming from to . even before the war annette kellerman, star of vaudeville and movies, had become famous for her fancy diving as well as her celebrated figure, which she daringly exhibited in a form-fitting, one-piece suit. in addition to writing an autobiography, she authored articles and a swimming instruction book for women. as an example of what exercise, including swimming, could do for women, annette kellerman also lent her name to a course of physical culture for less "well-developed" ladies. another product of this new age of recreation was gertrude ederle, who learned to swim at the woman's swimming association of new york. she rose to sudden fame in as the first woman to swim the english channel. as previously stated, swimming was practiced through the middle ages as a useful skill for men. gradually this activity became regarded as also a healthful exercise and then as a recreation. finally by the late th century swimming also had achieved the status of a competitive sport--but for men only. it was not until the s that social attitudes permitted women the same full use of the water as men. the restrictive attitudes defining women's proper behavior in the water prior to the s were one element of the mores defining women's participation in society. thus as more liberal attitudes gained acceptance and modified the original concept of the "weaker sex," women gradually achieved social acceptance of their full participation in aquatic activities. bathing costume bathing became popular as a medicinal treatment for both men and women of the new world in the last half of the th century. it was the only aquatic activity, however, that was considered proper for women until over a hundred years later. like so many other customs, changes in bathing costume styles were initially introduced by way of england. they were adapted or rejected according to the special conditions of this continent. to give a clearer picture of the costume worn in the colonies and in the united states, descriptions of the english dress will be included where pertinent. i have not, however, found any evidence showing that bathing nude was a practice for women in this country. the early bathing gown it is disappointing but not surprising to discover the lack of descriptions pertaining to early bathing costume. this simple gown was utilitarian, not decorative. thus it deserved little attention in the eyes of the contemporary bather. no doubt it is due to the importance of the original owner that the following example has survived. in the collection of family memorabilia at mount vernon, there is a chemise-type bathing gown that is said to have been worn by martha washington (fig. ). according to a note attached to the gown signed by eliza parke custis, and addressed to "rosebud," a pet name for her daughter, martha washington probably wore this bathing gown at berkeley springs as she accompanied her daughter, patsy, in her bath. this blue and white checked linen gown has several construction details similar to the chemise, a woman's undergarment, of the period. the sleeves were gathered near the shoulder and were set in with a gusset at the armpit. the skirt of the gown was made wider at the bottom by the usual method of adding four long triangular pieces--one to each side of both the front and back. the sleeves, however, are not as full as those one would expect to find on a chemise of the period. also a chemise would probably have had a much wider neckline gathered by a draw-string threaded through a band at the neck edge. instead, this bathing gown has a moderately low neckline made wider by a slit down the front which is closed by two linen tapes sewn to either edge of the front. although less fabric was used for the bathing gown than was normally required to make a chemise, it was probably not because of functional considerations as one might like to think, but because of the scarcity of fabric. close examination reveals that the triangular sections of fabric used to add fullness to the skirt consist of several pieces. in fact the two sections used in the back are made from a different fabric, although it is still a blue and white checked linen. frugal use of scraps in linings and hidden sections of decorative costume was common practice in the th century. the piecing of the bathing gown is further evidence of the fact that it was a garment that had no ornamental purpose. [illustration: figure .--linen bathing gown said to have been worn by martha washington. (_courtesy of the mount vernon ladies' association._)] of particular interest are the lead disks which are wrapped in linen and attached near the hem next to the side seams by means of patches. no doubt these weights were used to keep the gown in place when the bather entered the water. the following account of bathing in dover, england, in suggests how the bathing gown might have been used at berkeley springs: the ladies in a morning when they intend to bathe, put on a long flannel gown under their other clothes, walk down to the beach, undress themselves to the flannel, then they walk in as deep as they please, and lay hold of the guides' hands, three or four together sometimes. then they dip over head twenty times perhaps; then they come onto the shore where there are women that attend with towels, cloaks, chairs, etc. the flannel is stripp'd off, wip'd dry, etc. women hold cloaks round them. they dress themselves and go home.[ ] [ ] _diary of john crosier_, , as quoted in c. willett and phillis cunnington, _handbook of english costume in the eighteenth century_ (london: faber and faber, ), p. . the earliest illustration showing costume worn in the united states for fresh water bathing is dated (see fig. ). unfortunately the painting reveals only that the bathing gowns were long and dark colored in comparison with the white dresses of the period. an article which described, in detail, the fashionable dress called for by each activity at summer resorts, concludes with the following tantalizing paragraph: we have no space for an extended description of suitable bathing-dresses. they may be procured at any of our town establishments for the purpose. much depends upon individual taste in their arrangement, for uncouth as they often of necessity are, they can be improved by a little tact.[ ] [ ] loc. cit. (footnote ). this is the only reference to american bathing costume of the second quarter of the th century that the author has found at this time. nevertheless, an english source describes what must have been a transitional style between the chemise-type bathing gown and the more fitted costume of the s. the _workwoman's guide_, published in london, , included instructions for making both a bathing gown and a bathing cap. health and modesty were the main considerations that influenced the choice of color and type of material. bathing gowns are made of blue or white flannel, stuff, calimanco, or blue linen. as it is especially desirable that the water should have free access to the person, and yet that the dress should not cling to, or weigh down the bather, stuff or calimanco are preferred to most other materials; the dark coloured gowns are the best for several reasons, but chiefly because they do not show the figure, and make the bather less conspicuous than she would be in a white dress.[ ] [ ] a lady, _the workwoman's guide_ (london: simpkin, marshall, and co., ), p. . the following details reveal that, in general, this bathing gown starts as an unshaped garment similar to the gown attributed to martha washington [brackets are mine]. as the width of the materials, of which a bathing gown is made, varies, it is impossible to say of how many breadths it should consist. the width at the bottom, when the gown is doubled, should be about nails [ nail = ¼ in.]: fold it like a pinafore, slope ½ nails for the shoulders, cut or open slits of ½ nails long for the armholes, set in plain sleeves ½ nails long, ½ nails wide, and make a slit in front nails long.[ ] [ ] loc. cit. (footnote ). the instructions for finishing this gown, however, show that the sleeves were worn close around the wrists and that the fullness of the skirt was secured at the waist by a belt. in making up, delicacy is the great object to be attended to. hem the gown at the bottom, gather it into a band at the top, and run in strings; hem the opening and the bottom of the sleeves and put in strings. a broad band should be sewed in about half a yard from the top, to button round the waist.[ ] [ ] loc. cit. (footnote ). by the addition of the above details this type of bathing gown more closely approximates the style of the long-skirted blouse of the s to be described later. in regard to the bathing cap we are told that, these are made of oil-silk, and are worn, when bathing, by ladies who have long hair.... it is advisable, however, for those who have not long hair, to bathe in plain linen caps, so as to admit the water without the sand or grit, and thus the bather, unless prohibited on account of health, enjoys all the benefit of the shock without injuring the hair.[ ] [ ] ibid., p. . the "scene at cape may" (fig. ) shows women wearing long-skirted, long-sleeved, belted gowns as well as head coverings similar to the type described in _the workwoman's guide_. thus during the period when bathing became popular as a medicinal treatment, women wore loose, open gowns perhaps patterned after a common undergarment, the chemise. although this chemise-type bathing costume must have been very comfortable when dry, its fullness was restrictive when wet. the bather could only immerse herself in water which was all that was necessary for the treatment. as the recreational possibilities of bathing began to overshadow its health-giving properties, women's bathing dresses also became more fitted, following the general silhouette of women's fashions. [illustration: scene at coney island--sea bathing illustrated. figure .--sea bathing at coney island, from _frank leslie's illustrated newspaper_, september . (smithsonian photo .)] bifurcated bathing dress during the first half of the th century in england and the united states, a more tolerant attitude toward feminine exercise led women to abandon the fiction that they were not bipedal while bathing. this acknowledgment, however, was not fostered solely by the need for a more functional bathing dress. it was first evidenced by a few daring european women who wore lace-edged pantaloons trimmed with several rows of tucking under their daytime dresses. the shorter, untrimmed, knee-length drawers which quickly replaced the pantaloons, became an unseen but essential item in the fashionable english lady's toilette of the s. these drawers, or a plainer version of the longer pantaloons, were adapted not only to the female riding habit but the bathing dress as well. an english source reported that "many ladies when riding wear silk drawers similar to what is worn when bathing."[ ] with the increased interest in physical exercise for women, ankle-length, open pantaloons also were being worn in the s with a long overdress as an early form of gymnasium suit. this evidence of the early use of drawers suggests that, like english ladies, women in the united states were probably wearing a type of drawers beneath their nondescript bathing gowns during the second quarter of the th century. there is some slight support of this theory in the following stanza of a poem that appeared in : but go to the beach ere the morning be ended and look at the bathers--oh what an array the ladies in trowsers, the _gemmen_ in _blowses_ e'en red flannel shirts are the "go" at cape may.[ ] [ ] as quoted in c. willett and phillis cunnington, _the history of underclothes_ (london: faber and faber, ), p. . [ ] "cape may," _godey's lady's book_ (december ), vol. , p. . the rather crude but delightful sketch of seabathing at coney island in (fig. ) shows the ladies wearing very full, ankle-length, trousers with a sack top extending loosely only a few inches below the waist. this type of bathing costume, which was primarily a bifurcated garment instead of a skirted one, became the prevailing fashion as reported in english women's magazines of the s. in contrast to the originally european skirtless costume, the philadelphia publication, _peterson's magazine_, stated that bathing dress should consist of a pair of drawers and a long-skirted dress. the recommended drawers were full and confined at the ankle by a band that was finished with a ruffle. these drawers were attached to a "body" and fastened so that, even if the skirt washed up, the individual could not possibly be exposed. the dress was made by pleating or gathering the desired length of material onto a deep yoke with a separate belt securing the fullness at the waist. the bottom of the hem was about three inches above the ankle and was considered rather short. loose shirt sleeves were drawn around the wrist by a band which was finished with a deep ruffle as a protection against the sun. according to this article many women wore a small talma or cape which hid the figure to some extent. it was recommended that the drawers, dress, and talma be made of the same woolen material. bathing-dresses, although generally very unbecoming can be made to look very prettily with a little taste. if the dress is of a plain color, such as grey, blue or brown, a trimming around the talma, collar, yoke, ruffles etc ..., of crimson, green or scarlet, is a great addition.[ ] [ ] "fashions for august, bathing dresses," _peterson's magazine_ (august ), vol. , p. . to complete a bathing toilette the following items were considered necessary: a pair of large lisle thread gloves, an oil cap to protect the hair from the water, a straw hat to shield the face from the sun, and gum overshoes for tender feet. [illustration: figure .--bathing dress, c. . (_courtesy of philadelphia museum of art._ photograph by a. j. wyatt, staff photographer.)] the red, tan, and blue-green checked bathing dress shown in figure is jauntily trimmed with crimson braid edging the collar, belt, and wrist and ankle bands. this costume is a variation of the style described previously. the drawers, unlike those described in _peterson's magazine_, are sewn to a linen band with linen suspenders attached. the unfitted, unshaped skirt ( ft. in. in circumference) is pulled in at the waist by a belt attached to the center back. a similar technique for forming a waistline is described in _the workwoman's guide_ of . women's magazines in the united states from the third quarter of the th century show illustrations of bathing costume, but in many instances these publications used european fashion plates. _harper's bazar_, (spelled thus until ) particularly in its early years, used fashion plates and pattern supplements from its german predecessor _der bazar_. thus, in one issue one can find a fashion plate showing the predominantly bifurcated european bathing suit and, in a column on new york fashions, a separate description of long-skirted bathing dresses with trousers. during the same period _peterson's magazine_ had illustrations previously used in the london publication, _queen's magazine_. american women seem to have accepted the majority of styles shown in european fashion plates, except for the skirtless bathing suits. the writer of an column on new york fashions sought to convince his readers to try the more daring european style although he grudgingly admitted that the "bathing suits made with trousers and blouse waist without skirt are objected to by many ladies as masculine and fast...."[ ] this style was in fact, very similar to the costume worn by men when they bathed with the ladies. a year later, the writer of the same fashion column had given up the campaign to dress all women in the skirtless suits and admitted that these imports "... are worn by expert swimmers, who do not wish to be encumbered with bulky clothing."[ ] such practical bathing dress was thus limited to a very small number of progressive women. [ ] "new york fashions," _harper's bazar_ (august , ), vol. , no. , p. . [ ] ibid. (july , ), vol. , no. , p. . the majority, consisting of those who were strictly bathers, wore the ankle-length drawers beneath a long dress as described or illustrated in the majority of sources that originated in the united states. why was the european bathing suit not fully adopted by american women? differences between the bathing customs of the two continents undoubtedly encouraged the development of different dress. while men and women in the united states bathed together freely at the seashore during the latter half of the th century, this practice was not widely accepted in england until the early s. in the presence of men, american women probably felt compelled to retain their more concealing dress and drawers. in england swimming seems to have been more popular among women than it was in the united states. while encouraging its readers to swim, during the late s, _queen's magazine_ used forceful language of a kind that was not found in american publications until the late th century. if swimming was more acceptable as a feminine exercise in england it is understandable why english women were more receptive to a functional, skirtless bathing suit--especially since it was worn only in the presence of other women. in , winslow homer, who was later to become a well-known american painter, was welcomed into the society at newport until it became apparent that he wanted to sketch the bathers for a weekly newspaper (see fig. ). so great were the ensuing objections that he was permitted to complete his sketches "... provided he depicted the bathers only in the water and only above the waistline and without divulging the identity of the bathers."[ ] [ ] b. brooke, "bathing-dress with hat and gloves," _hobbies_ (august ), vol. , p. . as can be seen in figure , these sketches serve more as a testament of homer's fancy than as an accurate historical statement on style. the two feminine legs exposed in the water from just below the knee to the toe and the feminine head coverings appear to be anachronisms. according to several other illustrations of the period, these women were undoubtedly wearing long drawers. the young artist at , however, has been described as having an eye for feminine beauty and a sense of fashion. he seems to have exploited to the full the decorative possibilities of hoop skirts blown by the breeze or agitated by some pretty accident to discreetly reveal a trim ankle. a drama of breeze versus long skirt appears with the small feminine figure in the left background of this print. the force of the waves and the motion of the frolicking bathers gave the artist opportunity to show two more pretty accidents. the only head covering he showed for feminine bathers was a ruffled cap that framed the face. other sources show newport bathers wearing the less attractive wide-brimmed straw hat (fig. ). the straw headgear worn over these caps seems more likely since newport's fashionable belles would surely have sacrificed appearances and worn a straw hat to avoid an unfashionable sunburn and tan. [illustration: figure .--bathing hat of natural color and purple straw, c. . (smithsonian photo p- .)] nevertheless, homer's sketch reflects characteristics seen in certain surviving examples from the s--namely that the top was becoming more fitted, being attached completely to a belt with the fuller skirt pleated or gathered to the bottom edge of the belt. in the design laboratory collection of the brooklyn museum there is an black poplin specimen that may be a bathing dress. this example is trimmed at the shoulder seam with epaulets, an example of the extent to which fashion was finally playing a part in bathing costume.[ ] [ ] photograph and pattern appears in blanch payne, _history of costume_ (new york: harper & row, ), pp. , - . the dresses described above appear peculiar not only to th century eyes, but they also seem to have amused mid- th century correspondents. one writer in declared that, we don't think a man could identify his own wife when she comes out of the bathing-house. a plump figure enters, surrounded with a multitude of rustly flounces and scarcely able to squeeze an enormous hoop through the door. she is absent a few minutes, and presto change! out comes a tall lank apparition, wrapped in the scanty folds of something that looks more like a superannuated night-gown than anything else, and a battered straw-chapeau knocked down over the eyes, and stalks down towards the beach with the air and gait of a tartar chieftain![ ] [fig. .] [ ] "an excursion to long branch," _frank leslie's illustrated newspaper_ (august , ), vol. , no. , p. . another writer felt that he ... must say--even in the columns of _frank leslie's illustrated_--that they don't look very picturesque or pretty when _a la naiade_.... rather limp, sacks tied in the middle, eel-bottles, hydropathic coalheavers and "longshoremen," and preternaturally dilapidated bloomers, would appear to be the ideals aimed at.[ ] [fig. .] [ ] loc. cit. (footnote ). this use of the term "bloomers," referring to long full drawers or trousers, is a reminder of how similar the bathing gown with drawers (see fig. ) was to the reform dress introduced in and worn by amelia bloomer, the feminist, in . despite the evident use of a new waistline treatment, the most popular bathing costume of the s, according to _harper's bazar_, continued to feature the yoke blouse that reached at least to the knee. this combination of blouse and skirt was held in position at the waist by a belt. the high neck was finished with a sailor collar or a standing pleated frill, while the long sleeves and full turkish trousers, buttoned on the side of the ankle, concealed the limbs. in a column on new york fashions reported an effort to popularize short-sleeved, low-throated suits then in favor at european bathing places and which had been illustrated in the _bazar_. nevertheless, the writer hedged this report by adding that it is thought best, however, to provide an extra pair of long sleeves that may be buttoned on or basted in the short puffs that are sewn in the arm holes. sometimes a small cape fastening closely about the throat is also added.[ ] [ ] "new york fashions," _harper's bazar_ (july , ), vol. , no. , p. . nevertheless, sketches of bathing scenes from the seventies indicate that some american women wore even shorter sleeves and trousers than those prescribed by the fashion magazines. linen and wool fabrics were both suggested in the s, but by the s flannel was most frequently used for bathing dresses, with serge also being recommended. navy blue, and to a lesser extent, white, gray, scarlet, and brown were popular colors in checks as well as solid colors trimmed with white, red, gray, or blue worsted braid. [illustration: figure .--"how she went in," from _harper's bazar_, august . (smithsonian photo a.)] bathing mantles or cloaks were worn to conceal the moist figure when crossing the beach. these garments were made of turkish toweling with wide sleeves and hoods, and were so long as "to barely escape" the ground. in one good bathing cap was described as an oiled silk bag-crown cap large enough to hold the hair loosely. the frill around the edge was bound with colored braid. many ladies preferred, however, to let their hair hang loose and under a wide-brimmed hat of coarse straw tied down on the sides to protect their skin from the sun (fig. ). bathing shoes or slippers were generally worn when the shore was rough and uneven. in manila sandals were worn, but the most functional bathing shoes are said to have been high buskins of thick unbleached cotton duck with cork soles. they were secured with checked worsted braid. two years later there were bathing shoes of white duck or sail canvas with manila soles. slippers for walking in the sand were "mules" or merely toes and soles made of flannel, braided to match the cloak, and sewn to cork soles. throughout this period the social aspect of bathing predominated over the therapeutic goals and women were making a greater effort to transform their bathing garments into attractive and functional outfits. motivated by the presence of men at the seashore and by the competition with other women for masculine attention, ladies were more concerned with the style of their bathing dresses and appropriate trimmings. thus bathing costume joined the ranks of other fashions described in women's magazines. [illustration: figure .--"how she came out," from _harper's bazar_, august . (smithsonian photo b.)] now that women were frolicking in the water rather than simply being dunked several times, their costume became somewhat more functional. long trousers gave them greater freedom in the water although the skirts which continued to be worn, tended to negate this improvement. even as early as the s there were efforts to shorten sleeves and eliminate high necklines. this trend to make bathing dress more practical increased in momentum toward the end of the century. [illustration: figure .--bathing costumes from a supplement to _the tailor's review_, july . (_courtesy of library of congress._)] princess style bathing dress although attitudes toward sports were more enlightened by the s, many women continued to wear the old bathing dress with its belted blouse extending to a long skirt and a pair of trousers. as an alternate to this garb, the "princess style" was developed with the blouse and trousers cut in one piece or else sewn permanently to the same belt. a separate skirt extending below the knee was buttoned at the waist to conceal the figure. this new style in bathing costume was probably derived from an innovation in women's underwear. during the late s a new style of undergarment, the "combination" of chemise and drawers, had come into use. petticoats could be fastened to buttons sewn around the waist of the combination. this streamlining of undergarments helped the lady of fashion to maintain a desirably svelte figure. apparently the advantages of this streamlining were obvious, because it was not long before women were quietly adapting this style to bathing dresses. by the s the skirt was often omitted for swimming (fig. ), giving the more active women more freedom in the water. following popular dress styles, the top of the bathing costume was bloused over the belt. the sailor collar, either large or small, was a great favorite, but a straight standing collar with rows of white braid was also worn. the "princess style" was not the only innovation available in bathing dress. _harper's bazar_ reported in that imported french bathing suits[ ] for ladies were made without sleeves, since any covering on the arm interfered with the freedom desirable for swimming. nevertheless, according to other contemporary fashion descriptions, american bathing suits retained their long sleeves until the early s when the foreign fashion of short sleeves came to the united states. in it was reported that the sleeves may be the merest 'caps' four or five inches deep under the arm, curved narrow toward the top, and lapped there or they may be half-long and straight, reaching to the elbows, or else they may be the regular coat sleeves covering the arms to the wrist. with the short sleeves it is customary to add the sleeves cut from a gauze vest to give the arm some protection from the sun.[ ] [ ] the term "bathing suit" as opposed to "bathing dress" came into use in the last quarter of the th century when the bifurcated bathing garment with a shorter skirt was widely accepted. the two terms, however, continued to be used interchangeably, with "bathing dress" appearing less frequently. [ ] "new york fashions," _harper's bazar_ (july , ), vol. , no. , p. . sleeves were pushed up in and puffed high about the shoulders by means of elastic tape in the hem. by fashion reports acknowledged that sleeve length was a matter of individual choice. despite this neat resolution of the diminishing sleeve, contemporary sketches of bathing scenes indicate that some women in the united states were wearing the shorter sleeves even earlier. short full trousers, reaching just below the knee, accompanied by knee-length skirts--sometimes worn even shorter--succeeded the long turkish trousers and ankle-length skirt. as the trousers diminished in length, long stockings or bathing shoes with long stocking tops became a necessary part of the bathing costume to cover the lower limbs, particularly in mixed bathing (see fig. ). the stockings, which were cotton or wool, plain or fancy, and of any color or combination of colors in keeping with the costume, were worn with a variety of bathing shoes, sandals, or slippers when bathing off a rocky shore. foot coverings were usually made of white canvas; the slippers were held on by a spiral arrangement of braid or ribbon about the ankles, while the laced shoes were often made with heavy cork soles. a gaiter shoe or combination shoe and stocking was made of waterproof cloth, laced up the sides, and reached to about the knees. low rubber shoes were also worn. bathing caps of waxed linen or oiled silk were used to protect the hair. they had whale bone in the brim and could be adjusted by drawstrings in the back. blue, white, or ecru rubber hats were also used. these caps had large full crowns--which held in all the hair--and wired brims. a wide-brimmed rough straw hat, tied on with a strip of trimming braid or with ribbon, was sometimes worn as protection against the sun (fig. ). bathing mantles like those of the s were still being worn by the late th century and these were frequently trimmed with colored braid. cotton tapes sewn in parallel rows, mohair braid, or strips of flannel were still being used to make the bathing dress more attractive. navy blue and white, as well as ecru, maroon, gray, and olive were popular colors for the bathing dress. in the writer of a fashion column thought it pertinent to add that "... black bathing suits are worn as a matter of choice, not merely by those dressing in mourning."[ ] apparently the wearing of black no longer had this exclusive significance when bathing, but prior to it did. [ ] ibid. (july , ), vol. , no. , p. . as women became more active in the water and were learning to swim they began to accept more practical changes in bathing costume. not only the style, as described previously, but also the fabric was considered for its functional characteristics. flannel was still widely used but was being replaced by serge which was not as heavy when wet. another indication of this trend was that stockinet, a knitted material, was gaining in popularity at the end of the century. the "princess style" of the early s combined the drawers and bodice in one garment: the separate skirt fell just short of the ends of the drawers which covered the knees. by the mid- s, however, the drawers which were now called knickerbockers, were shortened so as to be completely covered by the knee-length skirt. these knickerbockers were either attached to the waist in the popular "princess style" or they were fastened to the waist by a series of flat bone buttons. during this same period, the mid- s, knitted, cotton tights were sometimes worn in place of knickerbockers. bathing tights differed from the knickerbockers in that they were hemmed rather than gathered on an elastic band at the lower edge and that they were not attached to the waist. when tights were used they were completely concealed by a one-piece, knee-length bathing dress. the use of the more streamlined bathing tights was another step toward more functional bathing costume. despite these improvements, most women continued to wear stockings, usually black, when they bathed or swam in public. the dictates of fashion and standards of modesty continued to conflict with practical considerations. [illustration: figure .--bathing dress of black "mohair," c. . (smithsonian photo .)] as with street dress, corsets seem to have been an important though unseen bathing article necessary for maintaining smart posture. in it was reported that unless a woman is very slender, bathing corsets should be worn. if they are not laced tightly they are a help instead of a hindrance to swimming, and some support is needed for a figure that is accustomed to wearing stays.[ ] [ ] ibid. (june , ), vol. , no. , p. . while describing the bathing dresses available in an article noted: "some of these are made up with ... princess forms that are boned so as to do away with the bathing corset."[ ] [ ] ibid. (july ), vol. , no. , p. . the bodice of the bathing costume continued to be bloused, but by it was modified to be merely loose. an article appearing in noted that bathing suits should be cut high in the neck, not tight around the throat, but close enough to prevent burning by the sun. the sailor collar continued to be used during the late s but became less fashionable shortly after the turn of the century. nevertheless there had to be some white around the neck for the bathing dress to be considered smart. the puffed sleeves, which had become popular in the late s were modified in breadth and length to allow free use of the muscles in swimming (fig. ). in fashion magazines were suggesting that skirts of bathing dresses looked best when the front breadth was shaped narrower toward the belt, while by the skirts were fitted over the hips in order to delineate the figure. in pleated skirts again became fashionable, although flared skirts were still acceptable. dark blue and black were the popular colors, although white, red, gray, and green were also used. flannel was no longer recommended for bathing dress; serge and "mohair"--a fabric with a cotton warp and a mohair or alpaca weft--were widely used. the impractical bathing dress of silk fabric was worn by those who could afford this extravagance; thus, the conspicuous consumption of the "leisure class" was even found at the beaches. bathing hats were still being worn but it was considered more fashionable to wear a rubber or oil silk cap covered with a bright silk turban when there was a surf. for the bather who seldom ventured very far into the water the most fashionable practice was to have no covering at all. throughout the th century bathing costume followed an impelling course toward becoming more functional. as the popularity of recreational bathing and then swimming for women increased, the number of yards of fabric required to make a bathing dress decreased. nevertheless, by the s, many women knew how to swim, but the majority were still bathers. thus bathing suits continued in use through the first quarter of the th century. swimming costume bathing costume did not evolve gracefully into the swim suit, nor was there an abrupt replacement of one garment for the other. instead, a garb designed for swimming emerged in the th century as tentatively and as poorly received as had the suggestion that women should be active in the water. the growing popularity of swimming and the changing status of women eventually made it possible for the swimming suit to replace the bathing suit in the s. by the s, however, this trend was accelerated by a growing advertising and ready-to-wear clothing industry. thus a history of the swimming costume tends to divide itself into two sections: early swimming suits and the influence of the swim suit industry. early swimming suits the earliest reference to swimming costume i have found was in . at this date swimming in the united states was considered a masculine skill, exercise, and recreation; only men were provided with a real opportunity to swim at popular watering places. as described previously, _harper's bazar_ reported that american women in general rejected the european bathing suit made with long trousers and a skirtless waist. nevertheless, this costume was "... worn by expert swimmers, who do not wish to be encumbered with bulky clothing."[ ] [ ] "new york fashions," _harper's bazar_ (july , ), vol. , no. , p. . in the s the rare descriptions of this more functional garment--called "swimming suit" even at this early date--were limited to a sentence or two buried within long columns of fine print describing popular bathing apparel. one mentions a "... single knitted worsted garment, fitting the figure, with waist and trousers in one."[ ] another was made without sleeves as "one garment, the blouse and trousers being cut all in one, like the sleeping garments worn by small children."[ ] these more practical bifurcated garments probably derived from the european suit of the s that had been rejected by the majority of american women. for example, an english source reported that in the following garment was worn: "... swimming costume, a body and trousers cut in one, secures perfect liberty of action and does not expose the figure."[ ] [ ] ibid. (july , ), vol. , no. , p. . [ ] ibid. (july , ), vol. , no. , p. . [ ] as quoted in c. willett cunnington, _english women's clothing in the th century_ (new york: thomas yoseloff, ), p. . the descriptions of american swimming suits, however brief, offered evidence that the pastime was growing in popularity with women. generally speaking, th century women's magazines were mere disseminators of fine and decorous ideas and practices for well-mannered ladies; their editors were not innovators. with such an editorial policy it is understandable that these magazines would not, as a rule, publicize trends of popular origin until they were fairly well established. the skirtless swimming suit of the s was no doubt more common in the united states than its meager description in _harper's bazar_ would seem to indicate. as long as feminine swimming was not generally accepted, however, efforts to develop practical swimming suits remained isolated owing to the lack of communication between manufacturer and consumer and to traditional attitudes. feminine interest in swimming and physical activities threatened belief in the "weaker-sex" that contributed to maintaining the traditional masculine and feminine roles; efforts to develop functional swimming dress also attacked established standards of feminine modesty. these challenges to the status quo were met with the weapon of the complacent majority--silence. consequently, from the third quarter of the th century, when we find the first reference to a specialized garment for swimming in the united states, writings on swimming costume appeared infrequently until the s. in two "ladies' bathing jerseys" and two bathing suits of the traditional type appeared in the _first illustrated catalogue of knitted bathing suits_ of j. j. pfister company in san francisco. the captions over the illustrations leave no question that the briefer bathing jerseys were intended for swimming while the others were for bathing. these jerseys--form-fitting tunics that were mid-thigh in length--were made with high necks and cap sleeves. underneath this garment women wore trunks that extended to the knee and stockings; there was also the alternate choice of tights, a combination of trunks and stockings. to complete the outfit the feminine reader was encouraged to buy a knitted skull cap. apparently these bathing jerseys were successful; three, instead of two, jerseys appeared in the same catalog in . it is obvious from this later catalog, however, that there was a greater demand for bathing dresses since twelve designs of the skirted costume were featured as opposed to the two dresses in the first issue. [illustration: figure .--the recommended costume for swimming from j. parmly paret, _the woman's book of sports_, . (smithsonian photo .)] even by the early th century it is difficult to find specific references to a swimming suit in women's magazines; only occasionally does a concern with swimming obtrude into the traditional descriptions of bathing dress. in _the woman's book of sports_, however, j. parmly paret was specific about the requirements for a suitable swimming costume in . it is particularly important that nothing tight should be worn while swimming, no matter how fashionable a dress may be for bathing. the exercise requires the greatest freedom, and a swimming costume should never include corsets, tight sleeves, or a skirt below the knees. the freedom of the shoulders is the most important of all, but anything tight around the body interferes with the breathing and the muscles of the back, while a long skirt--even one a few inches below the knees--binds the legs constantly in making their strokes.[ ] [ ] j. parmly paret, _the woman's book of sports_ (new york: d. appleton & co., ), p. . although this costume (fig. ) more closely resembles the traditional bathing dress than the jersey described previously, this discussion illustrates the growing dichotomy between bathing dress and swimming dress and between fashionable styles and functional styles. photographs of east coast beach scenes in show a few women wearing costumes different from the black or navy blue bathing dress worn by the majority. these independent spirits seem to be wearing close-fitting knitted trunks that cover the knees or, when with stockings, come within an inch or two above the knee. above these trunks they appear to be wearing knitted one-piece tunics or belted blouses that cover the hips. this costume, sleeveless or short-sleeved, and with a simplified neckline, must have been the functional suit of its day. an important impetus was given to the development of the swimming suit with the entrance of women into swimming as a competitive sport. on september , , adeline trapp wore a one-piece knitted swimming suit when she became the first woman to swim across the east river in new york, through the treacherous waters of hell gate. both the swimming suit and the swim were part of a campaign devised by wilbert longfellow--of the u.s. volunteer life saving corps--to encourage women to learn to swim. adeline trapp was a summer employee of the life saving corps in . mr. longfellow saw in the -year-old brooklyn school teacher a respectable young woman who could be a source of publicity. he ordered her to get a one-piece swimming suit for the swim. as early as in england, a woman participating in competitions organized by the amateur swimming association could have worn a one-piece, skirtless, knitted costume with a shaped sleeve at least three inches long, a slightly scooped neck, and legs that extended to within three inches of the knee. mr. longfellow may have had this english suit in mind. he might have known of similar suits in the united states or he might have simply wanted to free adeline of yards of fabric to make her more competitive with male swimmers. nevertheless, adeline trapp did not know that the english suits existed, nor did she know where she could find one. she spent many hours going from one american manufacturer to another trying on men's knitted suits. she found that they were all cut too low at the neck and armholes and did not cover enough of the legs to preclude criticism. at this point a friend who worked for a stocking manufacturer offered to get her a suitable costume from england. this costume, a knitted, gray cotton suit--whether originally for a man or woman in england is not known--was the one adeline wore when she swam hell gate. although more than thirty men attempted the swim, the fact that a woman accomplished the feat made newspaper headlines. following this event, miss trapp received a terse letter from the brooklyn school board stating that they thought it improper for an educator of brooklyn children to appear in public so scantily dressed in a one-piece swimming costume. for her future swims adeline trapp was careful to have someone carry a blanket to throw over her as she emerged from the water.[ ] [ ] telephone interview with adeline trapp mulhenberg, may . in , annette kellerman arrived in the united states from australia by way of england. for her fancy diving exhibitions she wore sleeveless one-piece knitted swimming tights that covered her from neck to toe--a costume she had probably adopted in england. the decade from to was a crucial period in the history of bathing and swimming costume. popular attitudes were changing in favor of the woman who swam but, as frequently occurs in social reforms, there was a cultural lag between public opinion and the policies of institutions. the red cross, which began its excellent water safety program in , taught women to swim but did not admit women as life saving corps members until . symbolic of the conflict between old and new attitudes were the relative roles of bathing and swimming costume during this period. as annette kellerman described them: there are two kinds ... those that are adapted for use in water, and those that are unfit for use except on dry land. if you are going to swim, wear a water bathingsuit. but if you are merely going to play on the beach, and pose for the camera fiends, you may safely wear the dry land variety.... i am certain that there isn't a single reason under the sun why everybody should not wear lightweight suits. anyone who persuades you to wear the heavy skirty kind is endangering your life.[ ] [ ] annette kellerman, _how to swim_ (new york: george h. doran company, ), p. . chic women's magazines, however, were still reluctant to admit in their fashion pages that a more utilitarian costume existed. the june , issue of _vogue_ reported that there were two kinds of bathing suits: a loose straight suit and those on surplice lines, "... which hold their place by virtue of being so very becoming."[ ] [ ] _vogue_ (june , ), vol. , no. , p. . the most popular of these, the surplice, was not a novelty of the season but a continuation of th century bathing suit styles. fashion illustrations show that the hemline of the skirt was approaching the middle of the knee, with the bloomers remaining hidden. there was also a revival of the style that permitted the bloomers to show several inches below the skirt. in this case the bloomers reached the knee and the skirt was several inches shorter. both versions were shown with short sleeves or cap sleeves, or sleeveless; "v" necklines with collars and square necklines were widely used. the more fashionable creations were made of silk taffeta or "surf satin," while the majority were made of "mohair," wool jersey, worsted, or closely woven cotton. black and navy blue were unquestionably the favorite colors. the loose straight suit, which evidently gained its inspiration from the chemise frock of the period, had no waistline and hung straight from the shoulders (fig. ); a belt or sash was frequently looped below the natural waistline on the hips. the chemise-type of bathing suit differed from the surplice only in having no fitted waist and requiring less fabric. [illustration: figure .--black silk bathing dress, . (smithsonian photo p- .)] in the june , issue, _vogue_ modified its position of two weeks earlier to acknowledge that there was a third style of costume worn in the water. again, the descriptions of the surplice and chemise-type bathing suits were accompanied by numerous illustrations. no drawings, however, were published to show the knitted jersey suit that was described as "... usually sleeveless, quite short and fairly straight ..." and "... intended for the woman who swims expertly."[ ] [ ] ibid. (june , ), vol. , no. , p. . as late as the early s, the fashion pages of _harper's bazar_ and _vogue_ were concentrated on the bathing suits, aiming at readers involved in the social life of the seaside resorts--lounging about the beach with occasional splashing in the water. the growing numbers of women who wanted swimming suits, however, had only to turn to the advertising sections of these same magazines to find that even in such shops as bonwit teller & co. and b. altman & co. were advertising knitted swimming suits. in june , _delineator_ solved the dilemma of bathing versus swimming costume in an intriguing article written to sell a pattern for a bathing costume. in description and presentation of illustrations, the article emphasized a costume with "all the features essential to a practical swimming-suit."[ ] the blouse and bloomers were attached at the waist in this garment which had a square neckline and no skirt or sleeves. made up in wool jersey, this would have been a practical swimming costume for the period. but this was not the only style available from this one pattern. the following variations were included: a sailor collar on a "v" neckline; a high-standing collar, long sleeves; and a detachable skirt with the fullness either pleated or gathered into a waistband, to be worn long to the knees or just short enough to show several inches of the bloomer. in this way _delineator_ succeeded in satisfying nearly every degree of conservatism--an amazing accomplishment. [ ] "for the modern mermaid," _delineator_ (june ), vol. , no. , p. . the spring edition of _sears, roebuck and co. catalog_ for offered a one-piece, or "california-style," knitted worsted bathing suit with the underpiece sewn to a skirt. this costume was less elaborate than the other dresses shown, although it was still knee length. the spring catalog showed two one-piece knitted outfits suitable for swimming in striking contrast to the surplice bathing dresses that were also offered. by all of the bathing costumes illustrated in the _sears, roebuck and co. catalog_ were of the more abbreviated and functional type. in annette kellerman recommended that serious swimmers wear close-fitting swimming tights or the two-piece suits commonly worn by men. being quick to admit that this costume would not be tolerated at all beaches, she told dedicated swimmers to ... get one-piece tights anyway and wear over the tights the lightest garment you can get. it should be a loose sleeveless garment hung from the shoulders. never have a tight waist band. it is a hindrance. also on beaches where stockings are enforced your one-piece undergarment should have feet, so that the separate stocking and its attendant garter is abolished.[ ] [ ] loc. cit. (footnote ). [illustration: figure .--one-piece swimming suit of knitted wool, c. . (smithsonian photo p- .)] knitted swimming suits found in advertisements of the period were either one-piece or two-piece; the trunks were attached or separate, but they always extended a few inches below the brief skirt. although this costume could be considered sleeveless, in some examples the suit was built up under the arm--a concession to the demands of modesty (fig. ). the scooped or "v" neckline with no collar was relatively high; in order to put on or remove the suit it was unbuttoned at one shoulder. it was this type of swimming costume which evolved into the garment that dominated the fashion pages of the mid- s. changes in costume brought about by the acceptance of swimming also affected leg covering. by fashion pages showed stockings that reached only to the calf and many advertisements for the abbreviated knitted bathing suits presented the lower leg covered with only the high laced bathing shoe (fig. ) or, in a few cases, bare. bathing slippers were black satin or black or white canvas held on the feet by ribbon criss-crossed up the leg to tie at mid-calf. shoes were of satin or canvas, laced in the front to mid-calf. there was a wide variety of colorful rubber caps; some were gathered on a band or with a ruffle while others were closely fitted with brims. also popular was a close-fitting rubber cap with a colorful scarf tied around it; swimmers did without the scarf. despite the distinction between the two types of bathing apparel, the beach cloak continued to be used by both the serious swimmer and those who stayed safely in the shallows. some bathing wraps had large collars and were only mid-calf in length. colorful beach hats, beach parasols, bags, and blankets were used, particularly by the bather who seldom got wet. the acceptance of swimming as a feminine activity provided an impetus for the use of the knitted swimming suit; but standards of modesty had to change before this suit could gain wide acceptance. bathing dresses of the th century had been designed to cover, conceal, and obscure not only the torso but the limbs as well. the swimming suit that was gaining acceptance in the early s not only revealed the arms and a good part of the legs, but actually dared to follow the lines of the torso. contemporary descriptions, that seem amusingly cautious today, included such statements as "... all annette kellerman bathing attire is distinguished by an incomparable, daring beauty of fit that always remains refined."[ ] even less cautious was a statement that these bathing suits were "famous ... for their perfect fit and exquisite, plastic beauty of line."[ ] [ ] _harper's bazar_ (june ), vol. , no. , p. . [ ] ibid. (june ), th year, no. , p. . the growing numbers of women who wore the new styles of bathing dress were a cause of concern to self-appointed guardians of decency. in the convention of the american association of park superintendents at new orleans adopted a series of bathing regulations for city beaches which dealt with the problems of the changing bathing suit. in general these regulations specified that "... no all-white or flesh-colored suits are permitted or suits that expose the chest lower than a line drawn on a level with the arm pits."[ ] in regard to ladies' bathing suits these men agreed that blouse and bloomer suits may be worn with or without stockings, provided the blouse has quarter-arm sleeves or close-fitting arm holes, and provided the bloomers are full and not shorter than four inches above the knee.[ ] [ ] "bathing regulations for city beaches," _american city_ (may ), vol. , no. , p. . [ ] loc. cit. (footnote ). regulations for knitted suits were similar, with the added caution that the skirt hem could be no more than two inches above the lower edge of the trunks. as late as these regulations were in effect at public beaches in cleveland and chicago. by a permanent change was occurring in the design of beach apparel. the chemise-style bathing dress of black taffeta or satin still appeared in the fashion magazines (fig. ), but by it had disappeared. the result of the struggle between the fancy bathing suit and the plain knitted suit became obvious even in the popular magazines of the period. in the opening paragraphs of a short story, shirley, the villainess, donned a smart bathing suit of puffy black taffeta, with a patent-leather belt and a scarlet scarf, and baked in the shadow of a big umbrella. margaret, the heroine, in a plain knitted suit and black cap was intent only upon diving, plunging, and splashing for her own enjoyment. in another story a young lady, who came out of the sea wearing a "... bathing suit so scanty it seemed a mere gesture flung carelessly to the proprieties ..." described herself as a modern young woman.[ ] [ ] jane pride, "pick-up," _delineator_ (may ), vol. , no. , p. . in the early twenties advertisements capitalized on the functional characteristics of swimming suits. a advertisement declared: no! no! not a bathing suit! no! the wil wite is a swimming suit. the difference is great--very great. a bathing suit is something in which to "sun" oneself and wear on the beach. a swimming suit is a garment made expressly for those who swim. it is free from frills and furbelows. it follows the form with the same sincerity that a neat silk stocking clings to a trim ankle. it fits when dry or wet ... it is a real swimming suit.[ ] [ ] _harper's bazar_ (june ), th year, no. , p. . the knitted swimming suit which achieved dominance over the bathing suit in the s was similar to its earlier version except that both the armhole and the neckline were lower. this made it possible to put on the suit without unbuttoning one of the straps at the shoulder--a feature that was omitted in this newer style. sometimes a sash was looped loosely around the waist; a geometrically shaped monogram provided a smart decoration. the affluent swimmer could distinguish herself from the masses by wearing silk jersey. during the last half of this decade women coquettishly adopted a man's swimming suit, consisting of a striped sleeveless jersey shirt with dark colored trunks and a white belt. [illustration: figure .--bathing shoes, . (smithsonian photo p- .)] perhaps the last stand for the bathing dress was the appearance of the "dressmaker suit" toward the end of the s and on into the early s. the neck and shoulder line copied those of currently fashionable evening dresses, with a parallel treatment of the skirt, which was shortened to end just below the hips. this suit was worn by women reluctant to brave the revealingly unadorned but popular swimming suit. a depilatory advertisement took advantage of the increasing "stockingless vogue" and explained that "women who love swimming for the sake of the sport, find stockings a great hindrance to their enjoyment."[ ] by the end of the twenties, the stocking for bathing and swimming had become an article of the past. [ ] _delineator_ (june ), vol. , no. , p. . although women were accepted in athletics and had achieved a generally wider role in public life, white, untanned skin was still the ideal in the s. thus sunproof creams, beach coats, and beach umbrellas were still important. according to the well-known "trickle-down" theory of fashion, styles of dress first become fashionable among the socially elite and wealthy and are then, in time, emulated by those at lower socio-economic levels. the knitted swimming suit, however, entered the fashion pages by a different route. it had its insignificant start with the skirtless bifurcated garments of the late s. going against popular opinion, some women did swim. they violated prevalent standards of modesty by continuing to wear a functional suit. gradually the demand grew. a plain, utilitarian garment was needed; pressure increased. thus, by the s the swimming suit prevailed, complimenting the image of the newly emancipated "modern woman." swim suit industry along with the increased popularity of swimming and the appearance of the knitted swimming suit we note the rapid development of the ready-to-wear swim suit industry. during the last half of the th century women frequently made their own bathing dresses with the aid of paper pattern supplements that appeared in women's magazines of the period. dressmakers also may have used these patterns to outfit their clients for their summer excursions. on the other hand, ladies in the large cities could purchase bathing dresses at furnishing stores or rent them at the large public beaches. a small advertisement in _harper's bazar_, august , , announced that in addition to gauze undershirts, linen drawers, collars and cuffs, union adams & co. of new york had bathing dresses for sale. the notice is noteworthy when one considers that the ready-to-wear clothing industry and the field of advertising were in their infancy. with the increased popularity of the knitted suit, knitting mills included men's and women's swimming apparel in their more prosaic lines of underwear and sweaters. many companies advertised the new product, steadily increasing their range until the inevitable occurred. in a national advertising campaign for swimming suits was initiated by jantzen, a hitherto obscure knitting mill whose production had been limited to sweaters, woolen hosiery, and jackets for chinese workmen. capitalizing on the growing interest in swimming, jantzen prominently advertised swimming suits instead of bathing dresses. the retail stores selling these suits advertised locally, but national advertising became the domain of the manufacturers, educating the public to associate certain positive qualities with their names. to the delight of the swim suit industry, swimming was more than a passing vogue. in , a national recreation association study on the use of leisure time found that among ninety-four free-time activities swimming was second only to movies in popularity.[ ] although the number of swimmers was increasing, competition caused the swim suit industry to take a new approach. manufacturers attempted to increase the volume of sales through advertising by emphasizing style. in one company advertised a national appeal to woman's vanity by declaring that beach _uniforms_ were out and that beach _styles_ were in. [ ] _the leisure hours of , people; a report of a study of leisure time activities and desires_ (new york, national recreation assoc., ). it was a general characteristic of the s that swimming suits covered less of the bather. the attached trunks of the swimming suit no longer extended down the leg but it survived unseen beneath the vestigial remains of a skirt. the diminishing coverage of the swim suit was also related to a changing attitude toward sun exposure. for years women had protected their delicate skin to prevent any unladylike, healthy appearance. the barrier against a lady having a tan deteriorated as women became accepted into athletic activities. by , women eagerly sought a sun tan. not only were there lotions to help the neophyte sun-worshiper acquire a rich even tan, but creams were available for the impatient who wished an instant tan. in line with this trend, swim suit manufacturers and sellers promoted and sold low sun-back or california styles, halter necks, and cut-out sections that exposed various portions of the midriff. the favorite suit, however, was the form-fitting maillot of wool jersey with no skirt. in the early s, the textile trade journals applauded the increasing stress on styling as a means of encouraging the consumer to buy a new suit rather than to use "last year's." stylishness was introduced into knitted suits through the use of a greater range of solid colors. parti-colored suits, with stripes and slashes of a second or even a third color, were also featured (fig. ). knitting mills were pressed to introduce novelty effects such as mesh, waffle motifs, and lace patterns in knitted fabrics. [illustration: figure . one-piece swimming suits of knitted wool, . (_courtesy of cole of california._)] the insistent emphasis on novelty encouraged the development of such items as all-rubber swimming suits with embossed surfaces simulating knitted textiles. although this innovation was not successful, because the suits were clammy and easily torn, rubber did find a definite use in swimming suits with the introduction of lastex--a yarn made with a core of rubber wrapped by a fine thread of another fiber. the following advertisement for swimming suits made with lastex best explains why this important innovation is still valued by the industry today: there's no wrinkle, no bag, no sag, even under the most ruthless sun! no other human device can even approximate that utter freedom, that perfection of fit, at rest or in motion, that airy but strictly legal sense of wearing nothing at all. there is no substitute for this elastic yarn, which imparts lasting elasticity to any fabric.[ ] [ ] _harper's bazaar_ (june ), th year, no. , p. . having exhausted the novelty effects of knitted swim suits, women in the late s began to respond eagerly to the wide range of decorative possibilities found in woven fabrics. cotton and the relatively new man-made fibers such as celanese acetate and dupont rayon were used in fabrics such as ginghams, chambrays, piques, and featherweight elastic satins. to the pleasure of the fashion editors, who claimed to be anxious for some relief from the nudity of the maillot, suits of woven fabrics were made with flared skirts. these had knitted linings of cotton, acetate, or wool which satisfied any taste as to warmth or coolness on the beach. the belief was prevalent that a wool swimming suit was needed for warmth. in the s the two-piece, bare-midriff suit with tight shorts or flared skirt was a popular and logical development from the earlier suits with cut-out sections around the midriff. the more extreme french bikini, however, was not adopted by american women when it was first introduced in the s. by the end of the forties the one-piece swimming suit staged a comeback with a slight variation: the new suits were structurally sculptured to mold, control, and stay put while swimming or sunning. they were the product of ingenious engineering, inside and out. the use of shirring and skillful cutting and handling of fabric focused attention on the bust line, while the frequent use of lastex tended to streamline the hips like a girdle. inside, the careful use of wire and plastic boning permitted many of these suits to assume a shape of their own and even to be worn without straps. a short-lived revival of the covered-up look appeared in the fashion pages in but, unlike the suits with covered arms and neck of the previous century, these suits drew attention to the parts of the body that were covered. the fate of this unsuccessful novelty is a good illustration of the fact that, ultimately, the buyer has the final word in the volatile field of feminine fashion. the swim suit manufacturers apparently misinterpreted the american woman's readiness to discard the more revealing two-piece suit in favor of an altered form of the maillot. always ready with novelties to make last year's suit obsolete, the manufacturers tried to encourage women into a more extreme covered-up look. despite the power of national advertising women were unwilling to go back in time. the female beach-goer and sun-worshiper opposed a suit that might interfere with the tanning process. by , the production of swim suits had become a big business with mass distribution and mass markets. expanded world-wide transportation facilities and increased leisure and affluence in the united states created a demand for midwinter vacation clothing for use in warmer climates, and the manufacturing of swim suits became a year-round undertaking, producing , million knitted and woven suits in women's, misses, and junior sizes in .[ ] [ ] compiled from "production of selected items of knit outerwear and swimwear; - ," _apparel survey _ ( ), series m a( )- , p. . conclusions the earliest bathing dress for women in the united states may have been an old smock or shift, followed by a bathing gown based on the shift or chemise. although women's bathing and swimming costume achieved an identity of its own during the th century, the evolution of this garb followed certain innovations in women's underclothing, namely, drawers in the first half of the th century, the "combination" of the late s, and the brassiere and panties of the s. the greatest number of minor style changes, however, were direct reflections of fashions in street dress. the rising hemline and, at times, the discarding of a skirt during periods when women wore long dresses for other activities can be attributed to changes caused by the functional requirements of bathing and swimming; the shortening of sleeves and trousers in the last quarter of the th century were also functional improvements. the benefits of the shorter trousers, however, were minimized when modesty required women to cover their exposed legs with stockings. swimming suits have been considered a th century innovation; in fact one corporation is under the impression that a member of their staff was responsible for the first use of the term "swimming suit" early in the century. the findings presented in this paper show that some women were wearing "swimming suits" that were distinctly different from bathing dresses as early as the s and that both co-existed for some years. bathing dresses disappeared in the s with the widespread acceptance of its functional counterpart; "bathing suit" no longer referred to a special type of costume but became interchangeable with the term "swimming suit." the insistent trend toward more functional costume reached its ultimate conclusion with the refinements of the knitted swimming suit in the s. subsequent changes have not improved upon the functional design of this classic suit. in many instances these variations have been merely to satisfy the feminine desire for distinctive apparel and the industry's need for perishable fashions. female competitive swimmers have continued to wear the simple knitted suit--now of nylon rather than wool. the changes since the s have shown a trend toward diminution in the coverage of the swimming suit. one cannot be certain what this means for the future, but it is unlikely that either the swim suit industry or standards of modesty of the near future will permit a total elimination of swimming costume. we can be assured, however, that so long as women swim, they will not repeat history by swathing themselves with yards of fabric. u.s. government printing office: file was produced from images generously made available by the internet archive.) dealings with the dead. dealings with the dead. by a sexton of the old school. volume ii. boston: published by dutton and wentworth, and congress street: and ticknor and fields, corner of washington and school streets. mdccclvi. entered according to act of congress, in the year , by dutton and wentworth, in the clerk's office of the district court of the district of massachusetts. dealings with the dead. by a sexton of the old school. no. xc. my earliest recollections of some, among the dead and buried aristocracy of boston, find a ready embodiment, in cocked hats of enormous proportions, queues reaching to their middles, cloaks of scarlet broadcloth, lined with silk, and faced with velvet, and just so short, as to exhibit the swell of the leg, silk stockings, and breeches, highly polished shoes, and large, square, silver buckles, embroidered vests, with deep lappet pockets, similar to those, which were worn, in the age of _louis quatorze_, shirts ruffled, at the bosoms and sleeves, doeskin or beaver gloves, and glossy, black, surinam walking canes, six feet in length, and commonly carried by the middle. of the last of the capulets we know nearly all, that it is desirable to know. of the last of the cocked hats we are not so clearly certified. the dimensions of the military cocked hat were terrible; and, like those enormous, bear skin caps, which are in use, at present, eminently calculated to put the enemy to flight. i have seen one of those enormous cocked hats, which had long been preserved, as a memorial of the wearer's gallantry. in one corner, and near the extremity, was a round hole, said to have been made by a musket ball, at the battle of white plains, nov. , . as i contemplated this relic, it was impossible to avoid the comforting reflection, that the head of the gallant proprietor was at a very safe distance from the bullet. after the assassination of henry iv., and greatly to the amusement of the gay and giddy courtiers of his successor, louis xiii.--old sully obstinately adhered to the costume of the former reign. colonel barnabas clarke was very much of sully's way of thinking. "and who," asks the reader, "was colonel barnabas clarke?" he was a pensioner of the united states, and died a poor, though highly respected old man, in the town of randolph, and commonwealth of massachusetts. for several years, he commanded the third regiment of the first brigade, and first division of infantry; and he wore the largest cocked hat and the longest queue in the known world. he was a broad-shouldered, strong-hearted revolutioner. let me take the reader aside, for a brief space; and recite to him a pleasant anecdote of old colonel barnabas clarke, which occurred, under my own observation, when john brooks--whose patent of military nobilty bears date at saratoga, but who was one of nature's noblemen from his cradle--was governor of massachusetts. there was a militia muster of the norfolk troops, and they were reviewed by governor brooks. they were drawn up in line. the governor, bare headed, with his suite, had moved slowly down, in front of the array, each regiment, as he passed, paying the customary salute. the petty _chapeau militaire_ had then become almost universal, and, with, or without, its feather and gold edgings, was all over the field. splendid epaulettes and eaglets glittered, on the shoulders of such, as were entitled to wear them. prancing horses were caracoling and curvetting, in gaudy trappings. in the midst of this showy array, in front of his regiment, bolt upright, upon the back of his tall, chestnut horse, that, upon the strength of an extra allowance of oats, pawed the ground, and seemed to forget, that he was in the plough, the day before, sat an old man, of rugged features, and large proportions. upon his head was that enormous cocked hat, of other days--upon his shoulders, scarcely distinguishable, was a small pair of tarnished epaulettes--the gray hairs at the extremity of his prodigious queue lay upon the crupper of his saddle--his ancient boots shaped to the leg, his long shanked spurs, his straight silver-hilted sword, and lion-headed pistols were of . such was the outer man of old colonel barnabas clarke. as the governor advanced, upon the line of the third regiment of the first brigade, the fifes of that regiment commenced their shrill whistle, and the drums began to roll; and, at the appropriate moment, the veteran saluted his excellency, in that rather angular style, which was common, in the days of our military fathers. at that moment, governor brooks checked his horse, and, replacing his hat upon his head, dismounted, and walked towards the colonel, who, comprehending the intention, returned his sword to its scabbard, and came to the ground, with the alertness of a much younger man. they met midway, between the line and the reviewing cortege--in an instant, each grasped the other's hand, with the ardor of men, who are mutually endeared, by the recollection of partnership, in days of danger and daring--they had been fellow lodgers, within the intrenchments of burgoyne, on the memorable night of october , . after a few words of mutual respect and affection, they parted--the review went forward--the fifers and drummers outdid themselves--the beholders sent forth an irrepressible shout--and when old colonel barnabas got up once again, upon his chestnut horse, i thought he looked considerably more like old frederick, hat, queue, and all, than he did, before he got down. he looked as proud as tamerlane, after he had caged the sultan, bajazet--yet i saw him dash a tear from his eye, with the sleeve of his coat--i found one in my own. how frail we are!--there is one there now! while contemplating the remarkable resurrection that has occurred, within a few years, of old chairs and tables, porcelain and candlesticks, i confidently look forward to the resurrection of cocked hats. they were really very becoming. i speak not of those vasty beavers, manufactured, of yore, by that most accomplished, gentlemanly, and facetious of all hatters, mr. nathaniel balch, no. old cornhill; but such as he made, for his excellent friend, and boon companion, jeremiah allen, esquire, high sheriff of suffolk. when trimmed with gold lace, and adorned with the official cockade, it was a very becoming affair. no man carried the fashion, as i have described it, in the commencement of this article, to a greater extent, than mr. thomas marshall, more commonly known as _tommy marshall_. he was a tailor, and his shop and house were in state street, near the present site of the boston bank. in london, his leisurely gait, finished toilette, admirable personal equipments, and exceedingly composed and courtly carriage and deportment would have passed him off, for a gentleman, living at his ease, or for one of the nobility. mr. marshall was remarkable, for the exquisite polish, and classical cut of his cocked hat. he was much on 'change, in those primitive days, and highly respected, for his true sense of honor. though the most accomplished tailor of his day, no one ever suspected him of cabbage. when i began the present article, it was my design to have written upon a very different subject--but since all my cogitations have been "_knocked into a cocked hat_," i may as well close this article, with a short anecdote of tommy marshall. there was a period--there often is, in similar cases--during which it was doubtful, if the celebrated james otis was a sane or an insane man. during that period, he was engaged for the plaintiff, in a cause, in which mr. marshall was a witness, for the defendant. after a tedious cross examination, mr. otis perceived the impossibility of perplexing the witness, or driving him into any discrepancy; and, in a moment of despair, his mind, probably, not being perfectly balanced, he lifted his finger, and shaking it, knowingly, at the witness, exclaimed--"_ah, tommy marshall, tommy marshall, i know you!_" "_and what do you know of me, sir?_" cried the witness, doubling his fist in the very face of mr. otis, and stamping on the floor--"_i know you're a tailor, tommy!_" no. xci. wake--vigil--wæcan--import one and the same thing. so we are informed, by that learned antiquary, john whitaker, in his history of manchester, published in . originally, this was a festival, kept by watching, through the night, preceding the day, on which a church was dedicated. we are told, by shakspeare-- he that outlives this day, and sees old age, will yearly, on the _vigil_, feast his neighbors, and say _tomorrow_ is saint crispian. these vigils, like the _agapæ_, or love-feasts, fell, erelong, into disrepute, and furnished occasion, for disgraceful revelry and riot. the irish _wake_, as it is popularly called, however it may have sprung from the same original stock, is, at present, a very different affair. howling, at a wake, is akin to the ululation of the mourning women of greece, rome, and judea, to which i have alluded, in a former number. the object of the irish _wake_ is to rouse the spirit, which, otherwise, it is apprehended, might remain inactive, unwilling, or unable, to quit its mortal frame--to _wake_ the soul, not precisely, "by tender strokes of art," but by long-continued, nocturnal wailings and howlings. in practice, it has ever been accounted extremely difficult, to get the irish soul fairly off, either upward or downward, without an abundance of intoxicating liquor. the philosophy of this is too high for me--i cannot attain unto it. i know not, whether the soul goes off, in a fit of disgust, at the senseless and insufferable uproar, or is fairly frightened out of its tabernacle. this i know, that boon companions, and plenty of liquor are the very last means i should think of employing, to induce a true-born irishman, to give up the ghost. i have read with pleasure, in the pilot, a roman catholic paper of this city, an editorial discommendation of this preposterous custom. however these barbarous proceedings may serve to outrage the dignity, and even the decency, of death, they have not always been absolutely useless. if the ravings, and rantings, the drunkenness, and the bloody brawls, that have sometimes occurred, during the celebration of an _irish wake_, have proved unavailing, in raising the dead, or in exciting the lethargic soul--they have, certainly, sometimes sufficed, to restore consciousness to the cataleptic, who were supposed to be dead, and about to be committed to the grave. in april, , barney o'brien, to all appearance, died suddenly, in the town of ballyshannon. he had been a terrible bruiser, and so much of a profligate, that it was thought all the priests, in the county of donegal, would have as much as they could do, of a long summer's day, to confess him. it was concluded, on all hands, that more than ordinary efforts would be required, for the _waking_ of barney o'brien's soul. a great crowd was accordingly gathered to the shanty of death. the mountain dew was supplied, without stint. the howling was terrific. confusion began. the altercation of tongues was speedily followed, by the collision of fists, and the cracking of shelalahs. the yet uncovered coffin was overturned. the shock, in an instant, terminated the trance. barney o'brien stood erect, before the terrified and flying group, six feet and four inches in his winding sheet, screaming, at the very top of his lungs, as he rose--"_for the love o' the blissed jasus, jist a dhrap o' the crathur, and a shelalah!_" in a former number, i have alluded to the subject of premature interment. a writer, in the london quarterly, vol. lxiii. p. , observes, that "there exists, among the poor of the metropolitan districts, an inordinate dread of premature burial." after referring to a contrivance, in the receiving houses of frankfort and munich,--a ring, attached to the finger of the corpse, and connected with a lightly hung bell, in the watcher's room--he significantly asks--"_has the corpse bell at frankfort and munich ever yet been rung?_"--for my own part, i have no correspondence with the sextons there, and cannot tell. it may possibly have been rung, while the watcher slept! after admitting the possibility of premature burial, this writer says, he should be content with shakspeare's test--"_this feather stirs; she lives_," this may be a very good affirmative test. but, as a negative test, it would be good for little--_this feather stirs not; she is dead_. in cases of catalepsy, it often happens, that a feather will not stir; and even the more trustworthy test--the mirror--will furnish no evidence of life. to doubt the fact of premature interment is quite as absurd, as to credit all the tales, in this connection, fabricated by french and german wonder-mongers. during the existence of that terrible epidemic, which has so recently passed away, the necessity, real or imagined, of removing the corpses, as speedily as possible, has, very probably, occasioned some instances of premature interment. on the th of june, , a mr. schridieder was supposed to be dead of cholera, at st. louis, and was carried to the grave; where a noise in the coffin was heard, and, upon opening it, he was found to be alive. in the month of july, , a chicago paper contained the following statement:-- "we know a gentleman now residing in this city, who was attacked by the cholera, in , and after a short time, was supposed to have died. he was in the collapsed state, gave not the least sign of life, and when a glass was held over his mouth, there was no evidence that he still breathed. but, after his coffin was obtained, he revived, and is now living in chicago, one of our most estimable citizens." "another case, of a like character, occurred near this city, yesterday. a man who was in the collapsed state, and to all appearances dead, became reanimated after his coffin was procured. he revived slightly--again apparently died--again revived slightly--and finally died and was buried." i find the following, in the boston atlas of august , :-- "a painful occurrence has come to light in baltimore, which creates intense excitement. the remains of the venerable d. evans reese, who died suddenly on friday evening, were conveyed to the light street burying-ground, and while they were placed in the vault, the hand of a human being was discovered protruding from one of the coffins deposited there. on a closer examination, those present were startled to find the hand was firmly clenched, the coffin burst open, and the body turned entirely over, leaving not a doubt that the unfortunate being had been buried alive. the corpse was that of a very respectable man, who died, apparently, very suddenly, and whose body was placed in the vault on friday last." the _recherches medico-legales sur l'incertitude des risques de la mort, les dangers dés inhumations précipiteés, les moyens de constater les décès et de rappeler á la vie ceux qui sont en etat de mort apparente_, by i. de fontenelle, is a very curious production. in a review of this work, and of the _recherches physiologiques, sur la vie et la mort_, by bichat, in the london quarterly, vol. lxxxv. page , the writer remarks--"_a gas is developed in the decaying body, which mimics, by its mechanical force, many of the movements of life. so powerful is this gas, in corpses, which have laid long in the water, that m. devergie, the physician at the morgue, at paris, says that, unless secured to the table, they are often heaved up and thrown to the ground._" upon this theory, the writer proposes, to account for those posthumous changes of position, which are known, sometimes to have taken place. it may serve to explain some of these occurrences. but the formation of this gas, in a greater or less degree, must be universal, while a change in the position is comparatively rare. the curiosity of friends often leads to an inspection of the dead, in every stage of decomposition. however valuable the theory, in the writer's estimation, the generation of the most powerful gas would scarcely be able to throw the body entirely out of the coffin, with its arms outstretched towards the portal of the tomb; of which, and of similar changes, there exist well authenticated records. it is quite probable, that the _irish wake_ may have originated, in this very dread of premature interment, strangely blended with certain spiritual fancies, respecting the soul's reluctance to quit its tenement of clay. after relating the remarkable story of asclepiades of prusa in bithynia, who restored to life an individual, then on his way to the funeral pile--bayle, vol. ii. p. , lond. , relates the following interesting tale. a peasant of poictou was married to a woman, who, after a long fit of sickness, fell into a profound lethargy, which so closely resembled death, that the poor people gathered round, and laid out the peasant's helpmate, for burial. the peasant assumed a becoming expression of sorrow, which utterly belied that exceeding great joy, that is natural to every man, when he becomes perfectly assured, that the tongue of a scolding wife is hushed forever. the people of that neighborhood were very poor; and, either from economy or taste, coffins were not used among them. the corpses were borne to the grave, simply enveloped in their shrouds, as we are told, by castellan, is the custom, among the turks. those who bore the body, moved, inadvertently, rather too near a hedge, at the roadside, and, a sharp thorn pricking the leg of the corpse, the trance was broken--the supposed defunct sprang up on end--and began to scold, as vigorously as ever. the disappointed peasant had fourteen years more of it. at the expiration of that term, the good woman pined away, and appeared to die, once more. she was again borne toward the grave. when the bearers drew near to the spot, where the remarkable revival had occurred, upon a former occasion, the widower became very much excited; and, at length, unable to restrain his emotions, audibly exclaimed--"_don't go too near that hedge!_" in a number of the london times, for , there is an account of the directions, given by an old irish expert in such matters, who was about to die, respecting his own _wake_--"recollect to put three candles at the head of the bed, after ye lay me out, two at the foot, and one at each side. mind now and put a plate with the salt on it, just atop of my breast. and d'ye hear--have plinty o' tobacky and pipes enough; and remimber to have the punch strong. and--blundenoons, what the devil's the use o' pratin t'ye--sure it's mysilf knows ye'll be after botching it, as i'll not be there mysel." no. xcii. that man must be an incorrigible _fool_, who does not, occasionally, like the vicar of wakefield, find himself growing weary of being always _wise_. in this sense, there are few men of sixty winters, who have not been guilty of being over-wise--of assuming, at some period of their lives, the port and majesty of the bird of minerva--of exercising that talent, for silence and solemnity, ascribed by the french nobleman, as more relates, in his travels, to the english nation. a man, thus protected--dipped, as it were, in the waters of lethe, _usque ad calcem_--is truly a pleasant fellow. there is no such thing as getting hold of him--there he is, conservative as a tortoise, _unguibus retractis_. he seems to think the exchange of intellectual commodities, entirely out of the question; he will have none of your folly, and he holds up his own superlative wisdom, as a cow, of consummate resolution, holds up her milk. if society were thus composed, what a concert of voices there would be, in unison with job's--_we would not live alway_. life would be no other, than a long funeral procession--the dead burying the dead. i am decidedly in favor of a cheerful philosophy. jeremy taylor says, that, "_the slightest going off from a man's natural temper is a species of drunkenness_." there are some men, certainly, who seem to think, that total abstinence, from every species of merriment, is a wholesome preparative, for a residence in paradise. the preacher saith of laughter, _it is mad, and of mirth, what doeth it?_ but in the very next chapter, he declares, _there is a time to dance and a time to sing_. we are told in the book of proverbs, that _a merry heart doeth good, like a medicine_. there has probably seldom been a wiser man than democritus of abdera, who was called the laughing philosopher; and of whom seneca says, in his work de ira, ii. c. , _democritum aiunt nunquam sine risu in publico fuisse; adeo nihil illi videbatur serium eorum, quæ serio gerebantur_: democritus never appeared in public, without laughter in his countenance; so that nothing seemed to affect him seriously, however much so it might affect the rest of mankind.--the abderites, with some exceptions, thought him mad; or, in beattie's words, when describing his minstrel boy-- "some deem'd him wondrous wise, and some believ'd him mad." these abderites, who were, notoriously, the most stupid of the thracians, looked upon democritus precisely as the miserable monks, about oxford, looked upon roger bacon, in the thirteenth century--they believed him a magician, or a madman. to laugh and grow fat is a proverb. whether democritus grew fat or not, i am unable to say; but he died at a great age, having passed one hundred years; and he died cheerfully, as he had lived temperately. lucretius says of him, lib. iii. v. -- "_sponte sua letho caput obvius obtulit ipse_." the tendency of his philosophy was to ensure longevity. the grand aim and end of it all were comprehended, in one word, [greek: euphymia], or the enjoyment of a tranquil state of mind. there is much good-natured wisdom, in the command, and in the axiom of horace-- "_misce stultitiam consiliis brevem dulce est desipere in loco_"-- which means, if an off-hand version will suffice-- mix with your cares a little folly, 'tis pleasant sometimes to be jolly. one of the most acceptable images, presented by sir walter scott, is that of counsellor pleydell, perched upon the table, playing at high jinks, who compliments colonel mannering, by continuing the frolic, and telling him, that, if a fool had entered, instead of a man of sense, he should have come down immediately. my new england readers would be very much surprised, if they had any personal knowledge of the late excellent and venerable bishop griswold, to be told, that, among his works, there was an edition of mother goose's melodies, with _prolegomina, notæ, et variæ lectiones_; well--there is no such thing there. but every one knows, that the comic romance of bluebeard, as it is performed on the stage, was written by bishop heber, and is published in his works. every one knows that hannah more wrote tolerable plays, and was prevented, by nothing but her sex, from being a bishop. every one knows that bishops and archbishops have done very funny things--_in loco_. and every one knows, that all this is quite as respectable, as being very reverently dull, and wearing the phylactery for life--_stand off, for i am stupider than thou_. i have now before me a small octavo volume--a very _bijou_ of a book, with the following title--_arundines cami, sive musarum cantabrigiensium lusus canori_, and bearing, for its motto--_equitare in arundine longa_. this book is printed at cambridge, england; and i have never seen a more beautiful specimen of typography. the work is edited by henry drury, vicar of wilton: and it contains a collection of greek and latin versions; by mr. drury himself, and by several good, holy, and learned men--butler, late bishop of litchfield--richard porson--hodgson, s. j. b. of eton college--vaughan, principal of harrow--macaulay--hallam--law--and many others. the third edition of this delightful book was published in . and now the reader would know something of the originals, which these grave and learned men have thought it worthy of their talents and time, to turn into greek and latin. i scarcely know where to select a specimen, among articles, every one of which is prepared, with such exquisite taste, and such perfect knowledge of the capabilities of the language employed. among the readers of the transcript, i happen to know some fair scholars, who would relish a greek epigram, on any subject, as highly, as others enjoy a pointed paragraph in english, on the subject of rum and molasses. here is a greek version of the ditty--"what care i how black i be," by mr. hawtrey, principal of eton, which i would transcribe, were it not that a greek word, now and then, presented in the common type, suggests to me, that you may not have a greek font. it may be found by those, who are of the fancy, on page of the work. here is a version by mr. hodgson--how the shrill, thready voice of my dear old nurse rings in my ears, while reading the original! god reward her kind, untiring spirit--she has gone where little pickles cease from troubling, and where weary nurses are at rest:-- pat a cake, pat a cake, baker's man, so i do, master, as fast as i can. pat it, and prick it, and mark it with c, then it will answer for charley and me. tunde mihi dulcem pistor, mihi tunde farinam. tunditur, o rapida tunditur illa manu. punge decenter acu, tituloque inscribe magistri; sic mihi, carolulo, sic erit esca meo. the contributions of mr. h. drury, the editor, are inferior to none-- there was an old man in tobago, who liv'd on rice gruel and sago; till, much to his bliss, his physician said this: 'to a leg, sir, of mutton you may go.' senex æger in tarento de oryxa et pulmento vili vixerat invento; donec medicus seni inquit valde læto, 'senex æger, o gaudeto, crus ovinum, jam non veto tibi benedicus.' decidedly the most felicitous, though by no means the most elaborate in the volume, is the following, which is also by the editor, mr. drury-- hey diddle diddle! the cat and the fiddle! the cow jumped over the moon; the little dog laughed to see such sport; and the dish ran away with the spoon. hei didulum--atque iterum didulum! felisque fidesque! vacca super lunæ cornua prosiluit. nescio qua catulus risit dulcedine ludi; abstulit et turpi lanx cochleare fuga. a latin version of goldsmith's mad dog, by h. j. hodgson, is very clever, and there are some on solemn subjects, and of a higher order. how sturdily these little ditties, the works of authors dead, buried, and unknown, have breasted the current of time! i had rather be the author of _hush-a-bye baby, upon the tree top_, than of joel barlow's vision of columbus--for, though i have always perceived the propriety of putting babies to sleep, at proper times, i have never entirely appreciated the wisdom of doing the very same thing to adults, at all hours of the day. what powerful resurrectionists these nursery melodies are! moll pitcher of endor had not a greater power over the dry bones of samuel, than has the ring of some one of these little chimes, to bring before us, with all the freshness of years ago, that good old soul, who sat with her knitting beside us, and rocked our cradle, and watched our progress from petticoats to breeches; and gave notice of the first tooth; and the earliest words; and faithfully reported, from day to day, all our marvellous achievements, to one, who, had she been a queen, would have given us her sceptre for a hoop stick. no. xciii. byles is a patronymic of extraordinary rarity. it will be sought for, without success, in the voluminous record of alexander chalmers. it is not in the biographia britannica; though, even there, we may, occasionally, discover names, which, according to cowper, were not born for immortality-- "_oh fond attempt to give a deathless lot to names ignoble, born to be forgot!_" even in that conservative record of choice spirits, the boston directory for , this patronymic is nowhere to be found. henry byles came from sarum in england; and settled at salisbury in this commonwealth, as early as . i am not aware, that any individual, particularly eminent, and bearing this uncommon name, has ever existed among us, excepting that eccentric clergyman, who, within the bounds of our little peninsula, at least, is still occasionally mentioned, as "_the celebrated mather byles_." i am aware, that he had a son, who bore the father's prænomen, and graduated at harvard, in ; became a doctor of divinity, in ; was a minister, in new london, and dismissed from his charge, in ; officiated, as an episcopal clergyman, in boston, for several years; went to st. johns, n. b., at the time of the revolution; officiated there; and died, march , . but my dealings, this evening, are with "_the celebrated mather byles_," who was born of worthy parents, in the town of boston, march , . his father was an englishman. through the maternal line, he had john cotton and richard mather, for his ancestors. he graduated, at harvard, in ; was settled at the hollis street church, dec. , ; created d. d. at aberdeen, in ; was, on account of his toryism, separated from his people, in ; and died of paralysis, july , , at the age of . he was twice married; a niece of governor belcher was his first, and the daughter of lieut. governor tailer, his second wife. i should be faithless, indeed, were i to go forward, without one passing word, for precious memory, in regard to those two perennial damsels, the daughters of dr. byles. how many visitations, at that ancient manse in nassau street! to how many of the sex--young--aye, and of no particular age--it has occurred, at the nick of time, when there was nothing under heaven else to be done, to exclaim--"what an excellent occasion, for a visit to katy and polly!" and the visit was paid; and the descendants of "_the celebrated mather byles_" were so glad to see the visitors--and it was so long since their last visit--and it must not be so long again--and then the old stories, over and over, for the thousandth time--and the concerted merriment of these amiable visitors, as if the tales were quite as new, as the year itself, upon the first january morn--and the filial delights, that beamed upon the features of these vestals, at the effect, produced, by the recitation of stories, which really seemed to be made of that very _everlasting_ of which the breeches of our ancestors were made--and then the exhibition of those relics, and _heir looms_, or what remained of them, after some thirty years' presentation to all comers, which, in one way and another, were associated with the memory of "_the celebrated mather byles_,"--and then the oh don't gos--and oh fly not yets--and when will you come agains! the question naturally arises, and, rather distrustingly, demands an answer--what was "_the celebrated mather byles_"--celebrated for? in the first place, he was _sanctæ theologiæ doctor_. but his degree was from aberdeen; and the scotch colleges, at that period, were not particularly coy. with a cousin at court, and a little gold in hand, it was somewhat less difficult, for a clergyman, without very great learning, or talent, to obtain a doctorate, at aberdeen, in , than for a camel, of unusual proportions, to go through the eye of a very small needle. even in our cis-atlantic colleges, these bestowments do not always serve to mark degrees of merit, with infallible accuracy--for god's sun does not more certainly shine, upon the just and upon the unjust, than doctorates have, in some cases, fallen upon wise men, and upon fools. that, which, charily and conservatively bestowed, may well be accounted an honor, necessarily loses its value, by diffusion and prostitution. not many years ago, the worthy president of one of our colleges, being asked, how it happened, that a doctorate of divinity had been given to a certain person of ordinary talents, and very little learning; replied, with infinite _naiveté_--"_why ---- had it; and ---- had it; and ---- had it; and we didn't like to hurt his feelings_." let us not consider the claims of mather byles as definitely settled, by the faculty at aberdeen.--he corresponded with pope, and with lansdowne, and with watts. the works of the latter were sent to him, by the author, from time to time; and, among the treasures, highly prized by the family, was a presentation copy, in quarto, from pope, of his translation of the odyssey. this correspondence, however, so far as i was ever able to gather information from the daughters, many years ago, did not amount to much; the letters were very few, and very far between; on the one side complimentary, and bearing congratulations upon the occasion of some recent literary success; and, on the other, fraught with grateful civility; and accompanied, as is often the case, with copies of some of the author's productions. let me here present a somewhat disconnected anecdote: at the sale of the library of dr. byles, a large folio bible, in french, was purchased, by a private individual. this bible had been presented to the french protestant church, in boston, by queen anne; and, at the time, when it came to the hands of dr. byles, was the last relic of that church, whose visible temple had been erected in school street, about . whoever desires to know more of these french protestants, may turn to the "memoir," by dr. holmes, or to vol. xxii. p. , of the massachusetts historical collections. dr. byles wrote, in prose and verse, and quite _respectably_ in both. there is not more of the spirit of poetry, however, in his metrical compositions, than in his performances in prose. his versification was easy, and the style of his prose works was unaffected; his sentences were usually short, and never rendered unintelligible, by the multiplication of adjuncts, or by any affectation of sententious brevity. yet nothing, that i have ever met with, from the pen of dr. byles, is particularly remarkable for its elegance; and it is in vain to look, among such of his writings, as have been preserved, for the evidences of extraordinary powers of thought. some dozen of his published sermons are still extant. we have also several of his essays, in the new england weekly journal; a poem on the death of george i., and the accession of george ii., in ; a sort of monodial address to governor belcher, on the death of his lady; a poem called the conflagration; and a volume of metrical matters, published in . if his celebrity had depended upon these and other literary labors, he would scarcely have won the appellation of "_the celebrated mather byles_." the _correspondent_ of byles, isaac watts, never imagined, that the time would arrive, when his own voluminous lyrics and his address to "_great gouge_," would be classed, in the _materia poetica_, as soporifics, and scarcely find one, so poor, as to do them reverence; while millions of lisping tongues still continued to repeat, from age to age, till the english language should be forgotten, "let dogs delight to bark and bite, for god hath made them so; let bears and lions growl and fight, for 'tis their nature to." dr. byles himself could not have imagined, while putting the finishing hand to "_the conflagration_," that, if he had embarked his hopes of reaching posterity, in that heavy bottom, they must surely have foundered, in the gulf of oblivion--and that, after all, he would be wafted down the stream of time, to distant ages, astride, as it were, upon a feather--and that what he could never have accomplished, by his grave discourses, and elaborate, poetical labors, would be so certainly and signally achieved, by the never-to-be-forgotten quips, and cranks, and bon mots, and puns, and funny sayings, and comical doings of the reverend pastor of the hollis street church. the reader must not do so great injustice to dr. byles, as to suppose, that he mingled together _sacra profanis_, or was in the habit of exhibiting, in the pulpit, that frolicsome vein, which was, in him, as congenital, as is the tendency, in a fish, to swim in water. the sentiment of horace applies not here-- ------------ridentem dicere verum quid vetat? the serious writings of dr. byles are singularly free from everything, suggestive of frivolous association. in his pulpit, there was none of it; not a jot; while, out of it, unless on solemn occasions, there was very little else. i have heard from those, who knew him well, that he ransacked the whole vocabulary, in search of the materials for punning. yet of his attempts, in this species of humor, few examples are remembered. the specimens of the wit and humor of this eccentric divine, which have been preserved, are often of a different character; and not a few of them of that description, which are called practical jokes. some of these pleasantries were exceedingly clever, and others supremely ridiculous. it is now more than half a century, since i listened to the first, amusing anecdote of mather byles. many have reached me since--some of them quite as clever, as any we have ever had--i will not say from foote, or hook, or matthews; for such unclerical comparisons would be particularly odious--but quite as clever as anything from jonathan swift, or sydney smith. suppose i convert my next number into a penny box, for the collection and safe keeping of these petty records--i know they are below the dignity of history--so is a very large proportion of all the thoughts, words, and actions of kings and emperors--i'll think of it. no. xciv. there were political sympathies, during the american revolution, between that eminent physician and excellent man, dr. james lloyd, and mather byles; yet, some forty-three years ago, i heard dr. lloyd remark, that, in company, the reverend mather byles was a most troublesome puppy; and that there was no peace for his punning. dr. lloyd was, doubtless, of opinion, with lord kaimes, who remarked, in relation to this inveterate habit, that few might object to a little salt upon their plates, but the man must have an extraordinary appetite, who could make a meal of it. the daily employment of our mental powers, for the discovery of words, which agree in sound, but differ in sense, is a species of intellectual huckstering, well enough adapted to the capacities of those, who are unfit for business, on a larger scale. if this occupation could be made _to pay_, many an oysterman would be found, forsaking his calling, and successfully competing with those, who will not suffer ten words to be uttered, in their company, without converting five of them, at least, to this preposterous purpose. no conversation can be so grave, or so solemn, as to secure it from the rude and impertinent interruption of some one of these pleasant fellows; who seem to employ their little gift upon the community, as a species of laughing gas. a little of this may be well enough; but, like musk, in the gross, it is absolutely suffocating. the first story, that i ever heard, of mather byles, was related, at my father's table, by the rev. dr. belknap, in , the year before he died. it was upon a saturday; and dr. john clarke and some other gentlemen, among whom i well remember major general lincoln, ate their salt fish there, that day. i was a boy; and i remember their mirth, when, after dr. belknap had told the story, i said to our minister, dr. clarke, near whom i was eating my apple, that i wished he was half as funny a minister, as dr. byles. upon a fast day, dr. byles had negotiated an exchange, with a country clergyman. upon the appointed morning, each of them--for vehicles were not common then--proceeded, on horseback, to his respective place of appointment. dr. byles no sooner observed his brother clergyman approaching, at a distance, than he applied the whip; put his horse into a gallop; and, with his canonicals flying all abroad, passed his friend, at full run. "_what is the matter?_" he exclaimed, raising his hand in astonishment--"_why so fast, brother byles?_"--to which the dr., without slackening his speed, replied, over his shoulder--"_it is fast day!_" this is, unquestionably, very funny--but it is surely undesirable, for a consecrated servant of the lord, thus lavishly to sacrifice, upon the altars of momus. the distillery of thomas hill was at the corner of essex and south streets, not far from dr. belknap's residence in lincoln street. dr. byles called on mr. hill, and inquired--"do you still?"--"that is my business," mr. hill replied.--"then," said dr. byles--"will you go with me, and still my wife?" as he was once occupied, in nailing some list upon his doors, to exclude the cold, a parishioner said to him--"the wind bloweth wheresoever it listeth, dr. byles."--"yes sir," replied the dr. "and man listeth, wheresoever the wind bloweth." he was intimate with general knox, who was a bookseller, before the war. when the american troops took possession of the town, after the evacuation, knox, who had become quite corpulent, marched in, at the head of his artillery. as he passed on, byles, who thought himself privileged, on old scores, exclaimed, loud enough to be heard--"_i never saw an ox fatter in my life_." but knox was not in the vein. he felt offended by this freedom, especially from byles, who was then well known to be a tory; and replied, in uncourtly terms, that he was a "---- fool." in may, , dr. byles was arrested, as a tory, and subsequently tried, convicted, and sentenced to confinement, on board a guard ship, and to be sent to england with his family, in forty days. this sentence was changed, by the board of war, to confinement in his own house. a guard was placed over him. after a time, the sentinel was removed--afterwards replaced--and again removed--when the dr. exclaimed, that _he had been guarded--regarded--and disregarded_. he called his sentry his _observ-a-tory_. perceiving, one morning, that the sentinel, a simple fellow, was absent, and seeing dr. byles himself, pacing before his own door, with a musket on his shoulder, the neighbors stepped over, to inquire the cause--"_you see_," said the dr., "_i begged the sentinel to let me go for some milk for my family, but he would not suffer me to stir. i reasoned the matter with him; and he has gone, himself, to get it for me, on condition that i keep guard in his absence._" when he was very poor, and had no money to waste on follies, he caused the little room, in which he read and wrote, to be painted brown, that he might say to every visitor--"_you see i am in a brown study_." his family, having gone to rest, were roused one night, by the reiterated cry of _thieves!--thieves!_ in the doctor's loudest voice--the wife and daughters sprang instantly from their beds, and rushed into the room--there sat the dr. alone, in his study chair--"_where, father?_" cried the astonished family--"_there!_" he exclaimed, pointing to the candles. one bitter december night, he called his daughters from their bed, simply to inquire if they lay warm. he had a small collection of curiosities. some visitors called, one morning; and mrs. byles, unwilling to be found at her ironing board, and desiring to hide herself, as she would not be so caught, by these ladies, for the world, the doctor put her in a closet, and buttoned her in. after a few remarks, the ladies expressed a wish to see the dr's curiosities, which he proceeded to exhibit; and, after entertaining them very agreeably, for several hours, he told them he had kept the greatest curiosity to the last; and, proceeding to the closet, unbuttoned the door, and exhibited mrs. byles. he had complained, long, often, and fruitlessly, to the selectmen, of a quagmire, in front of his dwelling. one morning, two of the fathers of the town, after a violent rain, passing with their chaise, became stuck in this bog. as they were striving to extricate themselves, and pulling to the right and to the left, the doctor came forth, and bowing, with great politeness, exclaimed--"_i am delighted, gentlemen, to see you stirring in this matter, at last_." a candidate for fame proposed to fly, from the north church steeple, and had already mounted, and was clapping his wings, to the great delight of the mob. dr. byles, mingling with the crowd, inquired what was the object of the gathering--"_we have come, sir_," said some one, "_to see a man fly_."--"_poh, poh_," replied the doctor, "_i have seen a horse-fly_." a gentleman sent dr. byles a barrel of very fine oysters. meeting the gentleman's wife, an hour or two after, in the street, the doctor assumed an air of great severity, and told her, that he had, that morning, been treated, by her husband, in a most _billingsgate_ manner, and then abruptly left her. the lady, who was of a nervous temperament, went home in tears, and was quite miserable, till her husband returned, at noon, and explained the occurrence; but was so much offended with the doctor's folly, that he cut his acquaintance. a poor fellow, in agony with the toothache, meeting the doctor, asked him where he should go, to have it drawn. the doctor gave him a direction to a particular street and number. the man went, as directed; and, when the occupant came to the door, told him that dr. byles had sent him there, to have his tooth drawn. "_this is a poor joke, for dr. byles_," said the gentleman; "_i am not a dentist, but a portrait painter--it will give you little comfort, my friend, to have me draw your tooth_." dr. byles had sent the poor fellow to copley. upon the th of may, , the memorable dark day, a lady wrote to the doctor as follows--"_dear doctor, how do you account for this darkness?_" and received his immediate reply--"_dear madam, i am as much in the dark, as you are_." this, for sententious brevity, has never been surpassed, unless by the correspondence, between the comedian, sam foote, and his mother--"_dear sam, i'm in jail_"--"_dear mother, so am i._" he had, at one time, a remarkably stupid, and literal, irish girl, as a domestic. with a look and voice of terror, he said to her, in haste--"_go and say to your mistress, dr. byles has put an end to himself_." the girl flew up stairs, and, with a face of horror, exclaimed, at the top of her lungs--"_dr. byles has put an end to himself!_" the astonished wife and daughters rushed into the parlor--and there was the doctor, calmly walking about, with a part of a cow's tail, that he had picked up, in the street, tied to his coat, or cassock, behind. from the time of the stamp act, in , to the period of the revolution, the cry had been repeated, in every form of phraseology, that our _grievances_ should be _redressed_. one fine morning, when the multitude had gathered on the common, to see a regiment of red coats, paraded there, who had recently arrived--"_well_," said the doctor, gazing at the spectacle, "_i think we can no longer complain_, that our _grievances_ are not _red dressed_." "_true_," said one of the laughers, who were standing near, "_but you have two ds, dr. byles_." "_to be sure, sir, i have_," the doctor instantly replied, "i had them from _aberdeen_, in ." these pleasantries will, probably, survive "the conflagration." had not this eccentric man possessed some very excellent and amiable qualities, he could not have maintained his clerical relation to the hollis-street church and society, for three and forty years, from to ; and have separated from them, at last, for political considerations alone. had his talents and his influence been greater than they were, the peculiarities, to which i have alluded, would have been a theme, for deeper deprecation. the eccentricities of eminent men are mischievous, in the ratio of their eminence; for thousands, who cannot rival their excellencies, are often the successful imitators of their peculiarities and follies. i never sympathized with that worthy, old lady, who became satisfied, that dr. beecher was a terrible hypocrite, and without a spark of vital religion, because she saw him, from her window, on the lord's day, in his back yard, gymnasticising, on a pole, in the intermission season; and thereby invigorating his powers, for the due performance of the evening services. yet, as character is power, and as the children of this generation have a devilish pleasure in detecting inconsistencies, between the practice and the profession of the children of light--it is ever to be deplored, that clergymen should hazard one iota of their clerical respectability, for the love of fun; and it speaks marvels, for the moral and religious worth of mather byles, and for the forbearance, intelligence, and discrimination of his parishioners, that, for three-and-forty years, he maintained his ministerial position, in their midst, cutting such wild, unpriestly capers, and giving utterance to such amusing fooleries, from morning to night. no. xcv. i have already referred to the subject of being buried alive. there is something very terrible in the idea; and i am compelled, by some recent information, to believe, that occurrences of this distressing nature are more common, than i have hitherto supposed them to be. not long ago, i fell into the society of a veteran, maiden lady, who, in the course of her evening revelations of the gossip she had gathered in the morning, informed the company, that an entire family, consisting of a husband, wife, and seven children, were buried alive. you have heard, or read, i doubt not, of that eminent french surgeon, who, while standing by the bedside of his dying friend and patron, utterly forgot all his professional cares and duties, in his exceeding great joy, at beholding, for the first time in his life, the genuine sardonic grin, exhibited upon the distorted features of his dying benefactor. for a moment, my sincere sorrow, for the terrible fate of this interesting family, was utterly forgotten, in the delight i experienced, at the prospect of receiving such an interesting item, for my dealings with the dead. my tablets were out, in an instant--and, drawing my chair near that of this communicative lady, i requested a relation of all the particulars. my astonishment was very much increased, when she asserted, that they had actually buried themselves--and my utter disappointment--as an artist--can scarcely be conceived, when she added, that the whole family had gone to reside permanently in the country, giving up plays, concerts, balls, soirees and operas. putting up my tablets, with a feeling of displeasure, illy concealed, i ventured to suggest, that opportunities, for intellectual improvement, were not wanting in the country; and that, perhaps, this worthy family preferred the enjoyment of rural quiet, to the miscellaneous cries of fire--oysters--and murder. she replied, that she had rather be murdered outright, than live in the country--listen to the frogs, from morning to night--and watch the progress of cucumbers and squashes. seriously, this matter of being buried alive, is very unpleasant. the dead, the half-dead, and the dying, were brutally neglected, in the earlier days of greece. diogenes laertius, lib. , _de vita et moribus philosophorum_, relates, that empedocles, having restored ponthia, a woman of agrigentum, to life, who was on the point of being buried, laws began to be enacted, for the protection of the apparent dead. at athens, no one could be buried, before the third day; and, commonly, throughout all greece, burial and cremation were deferred, till the sixth or seventh day. alexander kept hephestion's body, till the tenth day. i have referred, in a former number, to the remarkable cases of aviola and the prætor lamia, who revived, after being placed on the funeral pile. another prætor, tubero, was saved, at the moment, when the torch was about to be applied. i have also alluded to the act of asclepiades, who, in disregard of the ridicule of the bystanders, stopped a funeral procession, and reanimated the body, about to be burnt. a perusal of the _somnium scipionis_, and of the accounts of hildanus, camerarius, and horstius--of plato, in his republic--and of valerius maximus, will satisfy the reader, that premature burials were, by no means, uncommon, of old. the idea of reviving in one's coffin--one of fisk and raymond's "_patent metallic burial cases, air-tight and indestructible_"--is really awful! how truly, upon such an awakening as this, the wretch must wish he had been born a savage--a mandan of the upper missouri--neither to be burnt nor buried--but placed upon a mat, supported by poles--aloof from the accursed wolves and undertakers--with a reasonable supply of pemmican and corncake, and a calabash of water, by his side! the dread of such an occurrence has induced some very sensible people, to prefer cremation to earth and tomb burial. of this we have a remarkable example, in our own country. an infant daughter of henry laurens, the first president of congress, had, to all appearance, died of the small pox. she was, accordingly, laid out, and prepared for the grave. a window, which, during her illness, had been kept carefully closed, having been opened after the body was shrouded, and a stream of air blowing freshly into the apartment, the child revived, and the robes of death were joyfully exchanged, for her ordinary garments. this event naturally produced a strong impression, upon the father's mind. by his will, mr. laurens enjoined it upon his children, as a solemn duty, that his body should be burnt; and this injunction was duly fulfilled. in former numbers, i have referred the reader to various authorities, upon this interesting subject. i will offer a brief quotation from a sensible writer--"according to the present usage, as soon as the semblance of death appears, the chamber is deserted, by friends, relatives, and physicians, and the apparently dead, though frequently living, body is committed to the management of an ignorant or unfeeling nurse, whose care extends no further than laying the limbs straight, and securing her accustomed perquisites. the bed clothes are immediately removed, and the body is exposed to the air. this, _when cold_, must extinguish any spark of life, that may remain, and which, by a different treatment, might have been kindled into a flame; or it may only continue to repress it, and the unhappy person revive amidst the horrors of the tomb."--"coldness, heaviness of the body, a leaden, livid color, with a yellowness in the visage," says the same author, "are all very uncertain signs." mr. zimmerman observed them all, upon the body of a criminal, who fainted, through the dread of the punishment he had merited. he was shaken, dragged about, and turned, in the same manner dead bodies are, without the least sign of resistance: and yet, at the end of twenty-four hours, he was recalled to life, by means of volatile alkali. in , dr. william hawes, the founder of the humane society in london, published an address, on premature interment. this is a curious and valuable performance. i cannot here withhold the statement, that this excellent man, before the formation of the humane society, for several years, offered rewards, and paid them from his own purse, for the rescue of persons from drowning, between westminster and london bridge. dr. hawes remarks, that the appearance of death has often been mistaken for the reality, in apoplectic, and fainting fits, and those, arising from any violent agitation of the mind, and from the free use of opium and spirituous liquors. children, he observes, have often been restored, who have apparently died in convulsions. in case of fevers, in weak habits, or when the cure has been chiefly attempted, by means of depletion, the patient often sinks into a state, resembling death; and the friends, in the opinion of dr. hawes, have been fatally deceived. in small pox, he remarks, when the pustules sink, and death apparently ensues, means of restoration should by no means be neglected. in lord bacon's _historia vitæ et mortis_, a passage occurs, commencing--"complura fuerunt exempla hominum, tanquam mortuorum, aut expositorum e lecto, aut delatorum ad funus, quinetiam nonnullorum in terra conditorum, qui nihilominus revixerunt," etc. but the passage is rather long, and in a dead language; and my professional experience has admonished me to be economical of space, and to occupy, for every dead subject, long or short, as little room, as possible. i therefore give an english version, of whose sufficiency the reader may judge, by glancing at the original, vol. viii. p. , lond. .--there were many examples, says lord bacon, of men, supposed to be dead, taken from their beds as corpses, or borne to their graves, some of them actually buried, who, nevertheless, revived. this fact, in regard to such as were buried, has been proved, upon re-opening their graves; by the bruises and wounds upon their heads; and by the manifest evidences of tossing about, and struggling in their coffins. john scott, a man of genius, and a scholar, furnishes a very recent and remarkable example; who, shortly after his burial, was disinterred, and found, in that condition, by his servant, who was absent at the time of mr. scott's interment, and well acquainted, it seems, with those symptoms of catalepsy, to which he was liable. a like event happened, in my time, to a play-actor, buried at cambridge. i remember the account, given me by a clever fellow, who being full of frolic, and desirous of knowing what were the feelings of persons, who were hanging, suspended himself to a beam, and let himself drop, thinking that he could lay hold on the beam, when he chose. this, however, he was unable to do; but, luckily, he was relieved by a companion. upon being interrogated, he replied, that he had not been sensible of any pain--that, at first, a sort of fire and flashing came about his eyes--then extreme darkness and shadows--and, lastly, a sort of pale blue color, like that of the ocean. i have heard a physician, now living, say, that, by frictions and the warm bath, he had brought a man to life, who had hanged himself, and remained suspended, for half an hour. the same physician used to say, that he believed any one might be recovered, who had been suspended no longer, unless his neck was broken. such is a version of lord bacon's statement. in the gentleman's magazine, for , page , the following account is given of the feelings, during the process of hanging, by one, who was restored--"the preparations were dreadful, beyond all expression. on being dropped, he found himself midst fields and rivers of blood, which gradually acquired a greenish tinge; and imagined, if he could reach a certain spot in the same, he should be easy. he struggled forcibly to attain this, and felt no more." no. xcvi. it were greatly to be desired, that every driver of brute animals, guinea negroes, and hard bargains, since he will not be a christian, should be a pythagorean. the doctrine of the metempsychosis would, doubtless, instil a salutary terror into his mind; and soften the harshness of his character, by creating a dread of being, himself, spavined and wind-galled, through all eternity; or destined to suffer from the lash, which he has mercilessly laid upon the slave; or condemned to endure that hard measure, which he has meted, in this world, to the miserable debtor. this opinion, which pythagoras is said to have borrowed from the egyptians, or, as some assert, from the brachmans, makes the chief basis of religion, among the banians and others, in india and china, at the present day; and is the cause of their great aversion to take the life of brute animals, and even insects. the accidental destruction of any living thing produces, with them, a feeling of sorrow, similar to that, experienced, as mr. catlin says, by an indian, who unfortunately shot his _totem_, which, in that case, chanced to be a bear; that is, an animal of a certain race, one of which his guardian angel was supposed to inhabit. vague and fantastical, as have been the notions of a future state, in different nations, the idea of a condition of being, after death, has been very universal. such was the conclusion from the reasonings of plato. such were the results "quæ socrates supremo vitæ die de immortalitate animorum disseruisset." such was the faith of cicero--"sic mihi persuasi, sic sentio, quum tanta celeritas animorum sit, tanta memoria præteritorum, futurorumque prudentia, tot artes, tantæ scientiæ, tot inventa, non posse eam naturam, quæ res eas contineat, esse mortalem." de senec. . seneca was born a year before the christian era. there is a remarkable passage, in his sixty-third letter, addressed to lucilius. he is striving to comfort lucilius, who had lost his friend flaccus--"cogitemus ergo lucili carissime, cito nos eo perventuros quo illum pervenisse moeremus. et fortasse (si modo sapientium vera fama est, recipitque nos locus aliquis) quem putamus perisse, præmissus est:"--let us consider, my dear lucilius, how soon we, ourselves, shall go whither he has gone, whose fate we deplore. and possibly (if the report of certain wise men be true, and there is indeed a place to receive us hereafter) he whom we consider as gone from us _forever_, has only gone _before_. here is, indeed, a shadowy conception of a future state. the heathen and the christian, the savage and the sage concur, in the feeling, or the faith, or the philosophy, whichever it may be, that, though flesh and blood, bone and muscle shall perish, the spirit shall not. an impression, like this, swells into conviction, from the very contemplation of its own instinctive and pervasive character. the egyptians believed, in the abiding presence of the spirit with the body, so long as the latter could be preserved; and therefore bestowed great pains, in its preservation. in the travels of lewis and clarke, the echeloot indians are reported to pay great regard to their dead; and captain clarke was of the opinion, that they were believers in a future state. they have common cemeteries; the bodies, carefully wrapped in skins, are laid on mats, in vaults made of pine or cedar, eight feet square; the sides are covered with strange figures, cut and painted, and images are attached. on tall poles, surmounting these structures, are suspended brass kettles, old frying-pans, shells, skins, baskets, pieces of cloth, and hair. sometimes the body is laid in one canoe, and covered with another. it is not easy to conjecture what occasion these poor echeloots supposed spirits could have, for frying-pans and brass kettles. the faith of the inhabitants of taheite is very peculiar. they believe, that the soul passes through no other purgatory, than the stomach of the _eatooa_ bird. they say of the dead, that they are _harra po_, gone to the night; and they believe, that the soul is instantly swallowed, by the _eatooa_ bird, and is purified by the process of deglutition; then it revives; becomes a superior being; never more to be liable to suffering. this soul is now raised to the rank of the _eatooa_, and may, itself, swallow souls, whenever an opportunity occurs; which, having passed through this gastric purgation, may, in their turn, do the very same thing. vancouver was present, at the obsequies of the chief, _matooara_. the priest gave a funeral sermon--"_the trees yet live_," said he, "_the plants flourish, yet matooara dies!_" it was a kind of expostulation with _eatooa_. baron swedenborg's notions of the soul's condition, after death, are very original, and rather oriental. he believed, "that man eats, and drinks, and even enjoys conjugal delight, as in this world; that the resemblance between the two worlds is so great, that, in the spiritual world, there are cities with palaces and houses, and also writings and books, employments and merchandizes; that there are gold and silver, and precious stones there. there is, in the spiritual world, all and every thing that there is in the natural world; but that in heaven, such things are in an infinitely more perfect state." trade, in heaven, is conducted, doubtless, on those lofty principles, inculcated, by the late dr. chalmers, in his commercial discourses; counterfeiters and bank robbers, marriage squabbles and curtain lectures are unknown; and no angel lendeth upon usury. in this arrangement, there is a remarkable oversight; for, as death is dispensed with, our vocation is no better, than othello's. the superior advantages of the baron's heaven scarcely offer a fair compensation, for the suffering and inconvenience of removing, from our present tabernacles; and, for one, i should decidedly prefer to remain where i am, especially now that we have gotten the cochituate water. such being the fashion of swedenborg's heaven, it would be quite interesting, were he now among us, in the flesh, to have, under his own hand, a rough sketch of his hell. as the former is a state, somewhat better, the latter must be a state somewhat worse, than our present condition. it would not be very difficult to give some little idea of swedenborg's orcus, or place of punishment. we should have an eternal subtreasury, of course, with a tariff, more onerous, if possible, than that of : the infernal banks would not discount, and money, on prime paper, would be three per cent. a month. slavery would cover the earth; and the south would rage against the north and its interference, like the maniac, against his best friend, who strives to prevent him, from cutting his own throat, with his own razor. among the fancies, which have prevailed, in relation to the soul and its habits, none, perhaps, have been more remarkable, than the belief, in an actual _exodus_, or going forth, of the soul from the body, during life, on excursions of business or pleasure. this may be placed in the category of sick men's dreams; and probably is nothing else than that mighty conjuration of the mind, especially the mind of an invalid; of whose power no man had greater experience than emanuel swedenborg. the inhabitants of some of the polynesian islands believe, that the spirits of their ancestors become divinities, or _tees_. they believe the soul walks abroad, in dreams, under the charge of its _tee_, or tutelary angel. mydo, a boy, was brought from taheite, by an english whaler, and died, kindly cared for, by the moravians. one morning, he spoke to these friends, as follows:--"you told me my soul could not die, and i have been thinking about it. last night my body lay on that bed, but i knew nothing of it, for my soul was very far off. my soul was in taheite. i am sure i saw my mother and my friends, and i saw the trees and dwellings, as i left them. i spoke to the people, and they spoke to me; and yet my body was lying still in this room, all the while. in the morning, i was come again into my body, and was at mirfield, and taheite was a great many miles off. now i understand what you say about my body being put into the earth, and my soul being somewhere else; and i wish to know where it will be, when it can no more return to my body." such were the humble conceptions of the dying taheitean boy--let the reader decide for himself what more there may be, under the grandiloquence of addison-- --------plato, thou reasonest well. else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, this longing after immortality? or whence this secret dread and inward horror of falling into naught? why shrinks the soul back on herself, and startles at destruction! 'tis the divinity, that stirs within us; 'tis heaven itself, that points out an hereafter, and intimates eternity to man. no. xcvii. the ashes of the dead are ransacked, not only for hidden treasure, and for interesting relics, but there is a figurative species of raking and scratching, among them, in quest of one's ancestors. this is, too frequently, a periculous experiment; for the searcher sometimes finds his progress--the pleasure of his employment, at least--rudely interrupted, by an offensive stump, which proves to be the relic of the whipping-post, or the gallows. neither the party himself, nor the world, trouble their heads, about a man's ancestors, until he has distinguished himself, in some degree, or fancies that he has; for, while he is nobody, they are clearly nobody's ancestors. in note a, upon the article _touchet_, vol. ix., fol. ed., lond., , bayle remarks--"it is very common to fall into two extremes, with regard to those, whom providence raises greatly above their former condition: some, by fabulous genealogies, procure them ancestors of the first quality; others reduce them to a rank, much below the true one." this remark was amply illustrated, in the case of napoleon bonaparte: while some there were, who thought they could make out a clear descent from the prince of darkness, others were ready to accommodate him with the most illustrious ancestry. the emperor of austria had a fancy, for tracing napoleon's descent, from one of the petty sovereigns of treviso; and a genealogist made a merit of proving him to be a descendant, from an ancient line of gothic princes; to all this napoleon sensibly replied, that he dated his patent of nobility, from the battle of monte notte. cicero was of the same way of thinking, and prided himself, on being _novus homo_. among the _fragmenta_, ascribed to him, there is a declamation against sallust, published by lemaire, in his edition of the classics, though he believes it not to be cicero's; in which, sec. ii., are these words--_ego meis majoribus virtute mea præluxi; ut, si prius noti non fuerint, a me accipiant initium memoriæ suæ_--_by my virtue, i have shown forth before my ancestors; so, that if they were unknown before, they will receive the commencement of their notoriety from me_. "i am no herald," said sydney, "to inquire of men's pedigrees: it sufficeth for me if i know their virtues." this setting up for ancestors, among those, who, from the very nature of our institutions, are, and ever must be, a middling interest people, is as harmless, as it is sometimes ridiculous, and no more need be said of its inoffensiveness. from the very nature of the case, there can be no lack of ancestors. the simplest arithmetic will show, that the humblest citizen has more than _one million of grand parents_, within the twentieth degree; and it is calculated, in works on consanguinity, that, within the fifteenth degree, every man has nearly _two hundred and seventy millions of kindred_. there is no lack, therefore, of the raw material, for this light work; unless, in a case, like that of the little vagrant, who replied to the magistrate's inquiry, as to his parents, that he never had any, but _was washed ashore_. the process is very simple. take the name of smith, for example: set down all of that name, who have graduated at the english, american, and german colleges, for schmidt is the same thing--then enrol all of that name, upon the habitable earth, who have, in any way, distinguished themselves; carefully avoiding the records of criminal courts, and such publications as caulfield's memoirs, the state trials, and the newgate calendar. such may be called the genealogy of the smiths; and every man of that name, while contemplating the list of worthies, will find himself declaring a dividend, _per capita_, of all that was good, and great, and honorable, in the collection; and he will arise, from the perusal, a more complacent, if not a better man. this species of literature is certainly coming into vogue. i have lately seen, in this city, a large duodecimo volume, recently printed, in which the genealogy of a worthy family, among us, is traced, through oliver cromwell, to Æneas, not Æneas silvius, who flourished in the early part of the fifteenth century, and became pope pius ii., but to Æneas, the king of the latins. this royal descent is not through the second marriage with lavinia; nor through the accidental relation, between Æneas and dido-- speluncam dido dux et trojanus eandem deveniunt----------; but through the first marriage with the unfortunate creusa, who was burnt to death, in the great troy fire, which took place, according to the parian marbles, on the d of the month, thargelion, i. e., th of june, years before christ. ascanius was certainly therefore the ancestor of this worthy family, the son of Æneas and creusa; and the grandson of anchises and venus. such a pedigree may satisfy a welchman. i am forcibly reminded, by all this, of a very pleasant story, recounted by horace walpole, in a letter to horace mann: i refer to letter ccv. in lord dover's edition. in , when mirepoix was ambassador in england, there was a monsieur de levi, in his suite. this man was proud of his jewish name, and really appeared to set no bounds to his genealogical _gout_. they considered the virgin mary a cousin of their house, and had a painting, in which she is represented, as saying to monsieur levi's ancestor, who takes off his hat in her presence--"_couvrez vous, mon cousin_:" to which he replies--"_non pas, ma très sainte cousine, je scai trop bien le respect que je vous dois_." the editor, lord dover, says, in a note, that there is said to have been another ridiculous picture, in that family, in which noah is represented, going into the ark, carrying a small trunk under his arm, on which is written--"_papiers de la maison de levis_." very few persons are calculated for the task of tracing genealogies; patience and discrimination should be united with a certain slowness of belief, and wariness of imposition. two of a feather do not more readily consociate, than two of a name, and of the genealogical fancy, contrive to strike up a relationship. there are also greater obstacles in the way, than a want of the requisite talents, temper, and attainments:--"alterations of sirnames," says camden, "which, in former ages, have been very common, have so obscured the truth of our pedigrees, that it will be no little labor to deduce many of them." for myself, a plain, old-fashioned sexton, as i am, i am much better satisfied, with the simple and intelligible assurance of my bible, that i am a child of adam, than i could possibly be, with any genealogical proofs, that anchises and venus were my ancestors. however, there is no such thing as accounting for taste; and it is not unpleasant, i admit, to those of us, who still cherish some of our early, classical attachments, to know, that the blood of that ancient family is still preserved among us. no man is more inclined than i am, to perpetuate a sentiment of profound respect for the memory of worthy ancestors. let us extract, from the contemplation of their virtues, a profitable stimulus, to prevent us from being weary in well-doing. by the laws of confucius, a part of the duty, which children owed to their parents, consisted in worshipping them, when dead. i am inclined to believe, that this filial worship or reverence may be well bestowed, in the ascending line, on all, who have deserved it, and who are, _bona fide_, our grandfathers and grandmothers. it seems to me quite proper and convenient, to have a well-authenticated catalogue or list of one's ancestors, as far back as possible; but let us exercise a sound discretion in this matter; and not run into absurdity. i am ready and willing to obey the laws of confucius, as implicitly, as though i were a chinaman, and reverence my ancestors; but i must, first, be well satisfied, as to their identity. i will never consent, because some professional genealogist has worked himself into a particular belief, to worship the man in the moon, for my great proavus, nor dido for my great, great grandmother. domestic arboriculture is certainly getting into fashion, and a family tree is becoming quite essential to the self-complacency, at least, of many well-regulated families. the roots are found to push freely, in the superficial soil of family pride. generally, these trees, to render them sightly, require to be pruned with a free hand; and the proprietor, when the crooked branches are skilfully removed, and all the small and imperfect fruit put entirely out of sight, may behold it, with heartfelt pleasure, and rejoice in the happy consciousness, that he is a smink. if, however, these family matters, instead of being preserved, for private amusement, are to be multiplied, by the press, there will, indeed, in the words of the wise man, be no end of making books. ancestors are relics, and nothing else. whenever the demand for ancestors becomes brisk, and genealogy becomes a _profession_--it becomes a _craft_. laboureur, the historian, in his _additions de castelnau_, tom. ii. p. , affords a specimen of genealogical trust-worthiness. "in , renatus of sanzay built, with john le feron, king at arms of france, a genealogy of the house of sanzay, made up of near fifty descents, most of them enumerated, year by year; with the names, sirnames, and coats of arms of the women; whilst all those names, families, and arms were mere phantoms; brother stephen of lusignan, out of this mighty tub, as from a public fountain, let flow the nobility and blood of lusignan to all persons, who desired any of it."--again, on page , laboureur says--"they admitted, as true, all that was vented by certain false antiquaries and downright enthusiasts, such as john le maire de belges, forcatel, a civilian, stephen of lusignan, and john le feron, whom i will charge with nothing but credulity." this, doubtless, is the stumbling block of most men, who engage in this semi-mythical employment. nothing is more easy, than to mistake one dead person, for another, when corruption has done its work, upon the form and features. there is something bituminous in time. what masculine mistakes are committed by experts! those relics, which have been the object of hereditary veneration, for thirty centuries, as the virgin daughter of some great high priest in the days of cheops and cephrenes, may, by the assistance of the savans, with the aid of magnifiers of extraordinary power, be demonstrated to be the blackened carcass of hum-bug-phi, the son of hassan, the camel-driver; who kept a little khane or caravansera near joseph's granaries, in old al karirah, on the eastern banks of the nile, famous--very--for the quality of its leeks and onions, three thousand years ago. no. xcviii. thank heaven, i am not a young widow, for two plain reasons; i do not wish to be young again--and i would not be a widow, if i could help it. a young widow, widder, or widdy, as the word is variously spelt, has been a byword, of odd import, ever since the days, when sara, the daughter of raguel, exclaimed, in the fifteenth verse of the third chapter of the book of tobit--"_my seven husbands are already dead, and why should i live?_" all this tilting against the widows, with goose quills for spears, arises from the fact, that these weapons of war are mainly in the hands of one sex. men are the scribblers--the lions are the painters. nothing, in the chapters of political economy, is more remarkable, than the fact, that, since all creation was divided into parishes, there has never been a parish, in which there was not a mr. tompkins, who was the very thing for the widow button. but the cutting out and fitting of these matters commonly belongs to that amiable sisterhood, who are ever happy, without orders, to make up, at short notice. the result of my limited reading and observation has satisfied me entirely, that there is, and ever has been, a very great majority of bad husbands, over the bad wives, and of bewizzarded widowers, over the widows bewitched. when a poor, lone, young widow, for no reason under heaven, but the desire to prove her respect, as dr. johnson says, for the state of matrimony, takes the initiative, every unmarried female, over thirty, longs to cut her ears off. if there be sin or silliness, in the repetition of the matrimonial relation, or in strong indications of uneasiness, in the state of single blessedness, man is the offender in chief. _quadrigamus_, signifying a man who had been four times married, was a word, applicable of old. henry viii. had six wives, in succession. let us summon a witness, from among the dead. let us inquire, where is there a widow, maid, or wife, who would not be deemed a candidate for the old summary punishment of skymmington, should she behave herself, as boldly, and outrageously, as john milton behaved? milton, though he did not commence his matrimonial experiments, until he was thirty-five, married, in succession, mary powell, in --catherine woodcock, in --and elizabeth minshull, in . mary powell, who was the daughter of a cavalier, and accustomed to the gaiety of her father's house, soon became weary of her solitary condition, with john milton, who was, constitutionally, of a choleric and lordly temper. contrasted with the loneliness, and slender appliances of her new home, the residence of her father, at forest hill, appeared to her, like paradise lost. so she went home, at the end of a month, ostensibly upon a visit; and, probably, gave no very flattering account of the honeymoon. just about that period, the king's forces had thrashed fairfax, in the north, and taught waller the true difference, between prose and poetry, in the west; and "the powells," says dr. symmons, "began to repent of their republican connection." milton wrote to his wife to return. she neither came, nor responded. he next sent a messenger, who was treated with contempt. thereupon milton immediately proceeded to pay his suit to a very beautiful and accomplished young lady, the daughter of a dr. davis; and dr. symmons is evidently of opinion, that the lady and her family had no objections to the proceeding, which is fully exhibited, in milton's prose works, vol. vii. p. , lond., . talk not of widows after this. finding, even in those days of disorder, that no divorce, _a vinculo_, could be obtained, under existing laws, he wrote his celebrated works--the doctrine and discipline of divorce, and the judgment of martin bucer, concerning divorce. in these works he sets forth his particular grievance, which the reader may easily comprehend, from one or two brief quotations--he speaks of a "_mute and spiritless mate_" and of "_himself bound to an image of earth and phlegm_." after the fight of naseby, the powells appear to have thought better of it; and madame milton returned, made the amende, and was restored in full. what sort of composition milton made with miss davis nobody has ever disclosed. certain it is, that compasionate damsel and the works upon divorce were all laid upon the same shelf. we are apt to find something of value, in a thing we have discarded, when we perceive, that it is capable of giving high satisfaction to another. this consideration may have influenced mrs. milton; and, very possibly, the desire of returning to the residence of milton may have been secondary to that of jilting miss davis, which she was certainly entitled to do. i knew an old gentleman, who was always so much affected, in this manner, by the sight of his cast-off clothing, upon the persons of his servants, that nothing would content him, short of reclaimer. milton was ever milton still--_nihil tetigit quod non ornavit_. take a brief extract or two from his work on divorce:--"what therefore god hath joined let no man put asunder. but here the christian prudence lies, to consider what god hath joined. shall we say that god hath joined error, fraud, unfitness, wrath, contention, perpetual loneliness, perpetual discord? whatever lust, or wine, or witchery, threat or enticement, avarice or ambition hath joined together, faithful or unfaithful, christian with anti-christian, hate with hate, or hate with love--shall we say this is god's joining?"--"but unfitness and contrariety frustrate and nullify forever, unless it be a rare chance, all the good and peace of wedded conversation; and leave nothing between them enjoyable, but a prone and savage necessity, not worth the name of marriage, unaccompanied with love." every word of all this was written with an eye to the object of his unlawful passion: but the legislature very justly considered the greatest good of the greatest possible number; and would not turn aside, to pass a bill, for the special relief of john milton and miss davis. selden, in his _uxor hebraica_, has proved, that polygamy existed, not only among the hebrews, but among all nations, and in all ages. mark anthony is mentioned, as the first, among the romans, who took the liberty of having two wives. what a gathering there would have been, in the forum, if the news had been spread, that mrs. mark anthony had taken the liberty of having two husbands! every body knows, that widows are occasionally burnt, in hindostan, on the funeral pile with their husbands. whoever heard of a widower being burnt or even scorched, on a similar occasion? the landgrave of hesse, the most warlike of the protestant leaders, caused a representation to be made to the theologians, that he must have two wives, and that he would not be denied. a most rampant and outrageous protocol was prepared, and handed to bucerus, for the ministers at wittemberg. the substance of this was equally discreditable to the landgrave, and insulting to luther and the holy fathers. the landgrave was no gentleman, for he told the theologians, that his lady got drunk, and was personally disagreeable to him. he calls god to witness, that, if they do not sanction his polygamy, he will do just what he likes, and the sin will be upon their heads. he particularly wishes information, on one point--why he is not as good as abraham, jacob, david, lamech, and solomon; and why he has not as good a right to have a spare wife or two, as they had. he asks for two only. luther was deeply troubled, and perplexed. the reformation professed to bring back the world to the scriptures, in which polygamy was expressly recognized. the reformers held marriage to be _res politica_, and therefore subject to the law of the state. the matter became worse by delay. the landgrave was filled with fury, and the theologians with fear. at last, poor luther and the rest signed a paper, concluding with these memorable words--"if however your highness is utterly determined upon marrying a second wife, we are of opinion, that it ought to be done secretly. signed and sealed at wittemberg, after the feast of st. nicholas, in the year . martin luther, philip melancthon, martin bucer, antony corvin, adam john lening, justin wintfert, dyonisius melanther." the detail of all this may be found, in hazlitt's translation of michelet's life of luther, page , lond. . bayle, article luther, observes, that the theologians would have promptly refused to sanction such a thing, had the request come from any private gentleman--or, permit me to add, if it had come from the lady of the landgrave, for a brace of husbands. it is my opinion, that great injustice is done to widows. the opinion of st. jerome, who never was a widow, and knew nothing about it, that they should never marry again, is perfectly absurd; for there are some men, whose constitutional timidity would close the matrimonial highway forever, were it not for that peculiar species of encouragement, which none but widows can ever administer. for my own part, i would have a widow speak out, and spare not; for i am very fearful, that the opposite course is productive of great moral mischief, and tends to perpetuate a system of terrible hypocrisy. but let a sound discretion be exercised. i disapprove altogether of conditional engagements, made _durante vita mariti_. no. xcix. jonny moorhead was a man of a kind heart and a pleasant fancy. he came hither from belfast, in . he became pastor of the presbyterian church in long lane, in .--_tempora mutantur_--long lane, and jonny moorhead, and the little, old, visible temple, and presbyterianism itself, are like rachel's first born--they are not. but in , the good people built a new church, for jonny moorhead; in due time, long lane became federal street; and, jonny's church bore the bell, which had rung so many peals, and the gilded tell-tale, which, for so many years, had done obeisance to all the winds of heaven, upon the _old_ brattle street church. these, upon the demolition of that church, in , were the gift of john hancock. jonny moorhead had little comfort from that bell, for he died december , , and could he have lived to see that presbyterian weathercock go round, in after-times, it would have broken the tough, old strings of jonny moorhead's irish heart. about one hundred years ago, jonny moorhead, upon a drowsy summer afternoon, gave out the one hundred and eighty-seventh psalm--the chief minstrel, with infinite embarrassment, suggested, that there were not so many in the _book_--and tradition tells us, that jonny replied--"_weel, then, sing as mony as there be_." my recollection of this anecdote of jonny moorhead will be painfully revived, when i send forth the one hundredth number of these dealings with the dead. they have been prepared like patch-work, from such fragments, as my common-place book supplied, and at such broken hours of more than ordinary loneliness, as might otherwise have been snoozed, unconsciously away. i had cast all that i had written into a particular drawer; and great was my surprise, to find, that the hundredth was the last, and that, with that number, i shall have sung--"_as mony as there be_." one hundred--thought i--is an even number--few individuals care to survive one hundred. when these dealings with the dead had reached the number of four-score, i had serious misgivings, that their _strength_, to my weary reader, might prove nothing better than _labor and sorrow_; notwithstanding the occasional tokens of approbation, from some exceedingly old-fashioned people, who were altogether behind the times. having attained this _point d'appui_, which appears well enough adapted for the long home of an old sexton, it occurred to me, that i could not possibly do a better thing, for myself, or a more acceptable thing for the public, than to gather up my tools, as snugly as possible, and quietly give up the ghost. but giving up the ghost, even in the sacristan sense of that awful phrase, is not particularly agreeable, after all. if i look upon each one of these hundred dealings, as a sepulchre of my own digging--i cannot deny, that the employment of my spade has been a particular solace to me. but there are other solaces--i know it--there are an hundred according to the exiled bard of sulmo-- "----centum solatia curæ et rus, et comites, et via longa dabunt." other suggestions readily occur, and are as readily, discarded. parents, occasionally, experiment upon the sensibility of their children, by fondly discoursing of the uncertainty of human existence, and mingling deep drawn sighs, with shadowy allusions to wills and codicils. for three-and-thirty years, our veteran, maiden aunt, jemima wycherly, at the close of her annual visit, which seldom fell short of six weeks, in its duration, though it seemed much longer, took each of us by the hand, and, with many tears, commended us fervently to the protecting arm of an overruling providence, and bade us an eternal farewell! i have always contemplated the conduct of charles v. in relation to the rehearsal of his funeral obsequies, as a piece of imperial foolery. "he ordered his tomb to be erected, in the chapel of the monastery. his domestics marched thither in funeral procession, with black tapers in their hands. he himself followed, in his shroud. he was laid in his coffin, with much solemnity. the service for the dead was chanted; and charles joined in the prayers, which were offered for the rest of his soul, mingling his tears with those, which his attendants shed, as if they had been celebrating a real funeral. the ceremony closed, with sprinkling holy water on the coffin, in the usual form, and, all the assistants retiring, the doors of the chapel were shut. then charles rose out of the coffin, and withdrew to his apartment." such is the statement of dr. robertson.[ ] notwithstanding this high authority, it is comforting, even at this late day, to believe, that a story, so discreditable to the memory of charles, is without any substantial foundation. it has ever appeared remarkable, that bayle should not have alluded to this curious anecdote. after bestowing the highest praise, on richard ford's hand book, for travellers in spain, the london quarterly review[ ] furnishes an extract from the work, in which, after giving a minute and interesting account of the convent of st. yuste, the final retreat of charles v., mr. ford says--"_the story of his having had the funeral service said over himself, while alive, is untrue; no record, or tradition of the kind existed among the monks_." there is something, in these drafts upon _posterity_, to be accepted and paid, by the _present generation_, for the honor of the drawer, resembling the conduct of a man, who encroaches on his principal, or who anticipates his revenues. there is, undoubtedly, a species of luxury in leave-taking. we have delighted, to contemplate the edifying history of that gray-headed old rat, who, weary of the world, and determined to spend the remnant of his days, in pious meditation, took a final and affectionate leave of all his relatives and friends, and retired to a quiet hole--_in the recesses of a cheshire cheese_. however gratified we may be, to witness the second, or third coming of an able, ardent, and ambitious politician, it is not in the gravest nature to restrain a smile, while we contrast that vehemence, which no time can temper--that _vis vivida vitæ_--ready for all things, in the forum or the field--that unquenchable fire, brightly burning, beneath the frost of more than seventy winters--with those sad infirmities of ace--those silver hairs--that one foot in the grave--the necessity of turning from all sublunary things, and making way for heaven, under the pale rays of life's parting sun--those senatorial adieus--and long, last farewells--those solemn prayers and fervent hopes for the happiness of his associates, whom he should meet no more, on this side of the eternal world--those _esto perpetuas_ for his country! how touching these things would be, but for their frequency! what more natural, or more excusable, having enjoyed the luxury of leave-taking, than a desire--after a reasonable interval--to repeat the process, which afforded so much pleasure, and inflicted so little pain! as to my own comparatively humble relation to the public--_parvis componere magna_--i am of opinion, that i should gain nothing, by affecting to retire, or by pretending to be dead. as to the former, it may be as truly averred of sextons, as it was, by mr. jefferson, of office-holders--"_few die and none resign_;" and, in respect to the latter, i not only despise the idea of such an imposition upon the public, but have some little fear, that the affectation might be too suddenly followed, by the reality, as dr. robertson, rightly or wrongly, affirms it to have been, in the case of charles the fifth. i am now fairly committed, for the first number, at least, of another hundred, but for nothing more. i pretend not to look deeper into futurity, than six feet, which is the depth of a well-made grave. when i shall have completed the second hundred, and commenced upon a third, i shall be well nigh ready to exclaim, in the words of ovid-- "vixi annos bis centum: nunc tertia vivitur ætas." a relation of liberty and equality is decidedly the best, for my reader and for me--i am not constrained to write, nor he to read--if he cannot lie cozily, in a grave of my digging--i do not propose to detain him there--to bury him alive. dealing with the dead has not hardened my heart. i am a sexton of very considerable sensibility; and have, occasionally, mingled my tears with the earth, as i shovelled it in. in less figurative phrase, it is my desire to write, for my amusement, till one of us, the reader or myself, gives in, or gives out, and cries _enough_. i have a perfect respect for the old proverb, _de gustibus_, and by no means anticipate the pleasure of pleasing every body-- men' moveat cimex pantilius? aut cruciet, quod vellicet absentem demetrius? aut quod ineptus fannius hermogenis lædat conviva tigelli? there are some readers, for example, who seem to look upon a classical quotation, as a personal affront. i conceive this objection to be scarcely equitable, from those, whose hybrid english, it is quite as hard to bear. there are mortals--offenders in some sort--whom it is difficult to please, like the culprit who cried _higher_ and _lower_, under the lash, till the irish drummer's patience was perfectly exhausted, and he exclaimed--"_by jasus, there's no plasing ye, strike where i will_." no. c. the sayings of eminent men, in a dying hour, are eminently worthy of being gathered together--they are often illustrative of the characters of the dead, and impressive upon the hearts of the living. not a few of these parting words are scattered, over the breadth and length of history, and might form a volume--a _vade mecum_, for the patriot and the christian--a casket of imperishable jewels. as an example of those sayings, to which i refer, nothing can be more apposite, than that of the chevalier bayard, while dying upon the field of battle. "he received a wound," says robertson, "which he immediately perceived to be mortal, and being unable any longer to continue on horseback, he ordered one of his attendants to place him under a tree, with his face toward the enemy; then fixing his eyes on the guard of his sword, which he held up, instead of a cross, he addressed his prayers to god; and, in this posture, which became his character, both as a soldier and as a christian, he calmly awaited the approach of death." bourbon, who led the foremost of the enemy's troops, found him in this situation, and expressed regret and pity, at the sight. "_pity not me_," cried the high-spirited chevalier, "_i die, as a man of honor ought, in the discharge of my duty; they indeed are objects of pity, who fight against their king, their country, and their oath_." how significant of the life of that great military phlebotomist, who, from the overthrow of the council of five hundred, in , to his own in , delighted in blood, and in war, were those wild, wandering words of the dying napoleon--_tete d'armee!_ we have the last words of consciousness, that were uttered, by the younger adams, when stricken by the hand of death in the capitol--_the last of earth!_ we have also those of his venerable father, who expired, on the anniversary of that day, which he had so essentially contributed to render glorious, so long as the annals of our country shall continue to be preserved. on the morning of that day, the dying patriot, at the age of ninety-one, was awakened, by the customary pealing of bells, and the roar of artillery. upon being asked, if he recognized the day, he replied--"_it is the glorious fourth--god bless the day--god bless you all_." on the ninth day of july, , another patriot died, at his post, and in the service of his country, whose parting words will long remain, engraven at full length, upon the broad area of the whole american heart,--i am prepared--i have endeavored to do my duty! here, in this comprehensive declaration of general taylor, are embodied all, and more than all, contained in the long cherished words of the departing patriot--esto perpetua! "and you brave cobham, to the latest breath, shall feel your ruling passion, strong in death: such in those moments, as in all the past; 'o save my country, heaven!' shall be your last." the ninth day of july is, with the swiss, the day of their national independence. on that memorable day, in , they fought, and won the great battle of sempach, against leopold, duke of austria, which victory established the liberties of switzerland. upon the anniversary of that very day, just ninety-five years ago, washington was signally preserved, from the sweeping and indiscriminate carnage of indian warfare, for those high destinies, which he fulfilled so gloriously. the ninth day of july, , was the day of general braddock's defeat--the battle, as it is sometimes called, of fort du quesne. hereafter, it will be noted, as a day of gloom, in our national calendar. a great--good man has fallen--in a trying hour--in the very midst of his labors--a wiser, a worthier could not have fallen, at a moment of deeper need. from sea to sea--from the mountain tops to the valleys below--from the city and from the wilderness--from the rich man's castle, and from the hunter's cabin--from the silver-haired and from the light-hearted, what an acclaim--what a response, as the voice of one man--has already answered to that dying declaration--i am prepared--i have endeavored to do my duty! as an entire people, we know it--we feel it--and may god, in his infinite wisdom and goodness, enable us to profit, by a dispensation, so awfully solemn, and so terribly severe. the spirit of this great, good man is now by the side of that sainted shade, which once animated the form of the immortal washington. they are looking down upon the destinies of their country. who is so dull of hearing, as not to catch the context of those dying words? _i am prepared_--_i have endeavored to do my duty_--and may my death cement that union, which i so cheerfully devoted my life to preserve! it is finished. the career of this good man has closed forever. ingratitude and calumny to him are nothing now. after days and nights of restless agitation, he has obtained one long, last night of sweet repose, reserved for those, who die _prepared, and who have endeavored to do their duty_. he has gone where the wicked cease from troubling, and where the weary are at rest. no summons to attend the agitating councils of the cabinet shall disturb his profound repose--no sarcastic commentaries upon his honest policy, from the over-heated leaders of the senate or the house, shall give him additional pain. party malignity can no longer reach that ear. even the hoary-headed, political zoilus of the age can scarcely find a motive, base enough, among the recesses of an envenomed heart, for posthumous abuse. in view of this solemnizing event, the raving abolitionist and the utopian non-resistant may be expected to hold their incomparably senseless tongues, at least till these obsequies be past. if i do not greatly mistake, the death of general harrison and the death of general taylor, so very soon after entering upon the performance of their presidential duties, will not fail to present before the whole american people, for their learning, a first and a second lesson, so perfectly legible, that he, who runs, may read. it perfectly comports with a respect, sincere and profound, for the memories of these excellent men, solemnly to inquire, if, upon certain well known and universally acknowledged principles, it would not be as wise, and even more wise, to select a statesman, whose conduct in the cabinet had made him preëminently popular, and to place him, with a sword, in his unpractised hand, at the head of the armies of the republic--than to place, in the presidential chair, a great soldier, universally and deservedly popular, for his success in war--however strong his common sense--however inflexible his integrity--however pure and devoted his patriotism--unless he also possesses that skill, and knowledge of affairs, which never came to man, by intuition; and which cannot be acquired, but by the laborious training and experience of years? this is a solemn question, for the people; and it may well be put, irrespectively of the public weal, and with a reference, directly, to the happiness, and even to the continued existence, of those, who may be so unfortunate as to become the objects of the popular favor. is there any doubt, that all the battles, in which general taylor has ever been engaged, have occasioned less wear and tear of body and mind, than have been produced, by the numberless trials and anxieties of the presidential relation? it is a popular saying, and, perhaps, not altogether unworthy of general acceptation, that both general harrison and general taylor were _killed, not by kindness, but by care_. it may readily be supposed, that a gallant soldier would rather encounter the brunt of a battle, than such torrents of filth, as have been poured, professionally, upon the chief magistrate of the nation, from week to week, by the great scavenger, and his auxiliaries, at washington. all this would have been borne, with comparative indifference, by a practised statesman, whose training had been among the contests of the forum, and whose moral cutis had been thickened, by time and exposure. to appear, and to be, all that a chief magistrate ought to appear, and to be, in the centre of his cabinet, what a mass of information, on a great variety of subjects--what tact, amid the details of the cabinet--must be required, which very few gentlemen, who have devoted themselves to the military profession, can be supposed to possess! if knowledge is power, ignorance is weakness; and the consciousness of that weakness produces a condition of suffering and anxiety. instead of coming to the great work of government, with the necessary stock of knowledge, training, and experience--how incompetent is he, who comes to that work, like an actor, who is learning his part, during the progress of the play. the crude, iron ore is quite as well adapted to the purposes of the smith, or the cutler, without any subjection to the preparatory processes of metallurgy, as talent and virtue, however consummate, without preparatory training, and appropriate study, for the great and complicated work of government. too much confidence is apt to be reposed, upon the idea, that the president will be sustained, by his cabinet; and that any deficiencies, in him, will be compensated, by their wisdom and experience. the president is an important, component part of the acting government. he is not, like the august personage, at the head of the government of england, who can do no wrong; and whose chief employment is the breeding of royal babies, and the occasional reading of a little speech. he can do a great deal of wrong, and must do a great deal of work; and, when he differs from his cabinet, the more need he feels of practical and applicable wisdom and knowledge; and, the more upright and conscientious he is, the more miserable he becomes, under an oppressive sense of his incapacity. general taylor will long be remembered, by the people of the united states, with profound and affectionate respect. his amiable and excellent qualities are embalmed in their hearts. he fought the battles of his country, with consummate skill and bravery. he led their armies, in many battles--and never, but to victory! a grateful people, in the fulness of their hearts, and amid the blindness of popular enthusiasm, and with the purest purposes, and with sentiments of patriotic devotion, rewarded their gallant soldier, by placing upon his brows, a gilded crown of thorns! no. ci. the form of a chinese tomb, says mr. davis, in his "description of the empire of china," whether large or small, is exactly that of the greek _omega_ [greek: Ô]. their mourning color is white. their cemeteries are upon the hills. no interments are permitted in cities. no corpse is suffered to be carried, through any walled town, which may lie in its way to the place of interment. the tombs of the rich, says m. grosier, are shaped like a _horse shoe_, which, when well made, might pass for a very respectable [greek: Ô]. almost immediately after death, says the latter writer, the corpse is arrayed in its best attire. a son will sell himself, as a slave, to purchase a coffin, for his father. the coffin, upon which no cost is spared, remains, frequently, for years, the most showy article of the expectant's furniture. the body lies in state, and is visited by all comers, for seven days. the hall of ceremony is hung with white, interspersed with black or violet colored silk. flowers, perfumes, and wax lights abound. those, who enter, salute the dead, as if he were alive, and knock their heads, three times, upon the ground. upon this, the sons of the defunct creep forth, on their hands and knees, from behind a curtain, and, having returned the salutation, retire in the same manner. a chinese hearse is a very elegant affair; it is covered with a dome-shaped canopy of violet-colored silk, with tufts of white, neatly embroidered, and surmounted with net work. in this the coffin reposes; and the whole is borne, by sixty-four men. mourning continues for three years, during which the aggrieved abstain from flesh, wine, and all ordinary amusements. as we have had recently, among us, some half a dozen visitors, male and female, from the celestial empire, i am strongly tempted to turn from the dead, to the living. i have repeatedly attended the morning levees of miss pwan yekoo, who was exhibited with her serving-maid, lum akum, mr. soo chune, the musical professor, his son and daughter, mun chung and amoon, and mr. aleet mong, the interpreter. this was certainly a very interesting group; such as never before has been presented in this city, and will not be again, i presume, for many years. miss yekoo is said to be seventeen, which appears to be her age. with the costume of the chinese, which, in our eyes, is superlatively graceless, we have become sufficiently familiar, by the exhibition of the living males and the stuffed females, in our chinese museums. of their music, we had an interesting specimen, a few years since. being fortunately deaf, i can say nothing of the performances of miss _yekoo_ and professor _chune_. their features and complexions are chinese, of course, and cannot be better described than in the words of sir john barrow, as applicable to the race: "the narrow, elongated, half-closed eye; the linear and highly-arched eyebrow; the broad root of the nose; the projection of the upper jaw a little beyond the lower; the thin, straggling beard, and the body generally free from hair; a high, conical head, and triangular face: and these are the peculiar characteristics which obtained for them, in the _systema naturæ_ of linnæus, a place among the varieties of the species, distinguished by the name of _homines monstrosi_." apart from these and other considerations, it was well for all, who had it in their power, to avail themselves of an opportunity, which is not likely to be presented again, for years, and examine, with their own eyes, those "_golden lilies_," for the production of which this little chinese spinster, miss _pwan yeekoo_ has been severely tortured, from her cradle. she is neither very large, nor very small, for a girl of seventeen, and her feet are precisely _two inches and a half_ in length. a small female foot, as it came from the hand of the great creator, has ever been accounted a great beauty, since eve was born. but, to the eyes of all beholders, on this side of the yellow sea, no more disgusting objects were ever presented, than the horribly contracted and crippled deformities, upon the ends of miss yekoo's little trotters. the bare feet are not exhibited; but a model of the foot, two inches and a half in length, on which is a shoe, which is taken off, by the exhibitor, and put upon the real foot of miss yekoo, over a shoe, already there. this model is affirmed to be exact. as it is presented in front, the great toe nail alone is visible, forming a central apex, for the foot. on being turned up, the four smaller toes are seen, closely compacted, and inverted upon the sole. it is not possible to walk, with the weight of the body upon the inverted toes, without pain. miss yekoo, like all other chinese girls, with these crippled feet, walks, with manifest uneasiness and awkwardness, upon her heels. the _os calcis_ receives the whole weight of the body. to sustain the statement, that miss yekoo is a "_chinese lady_," it is said, that these crippled feet are signs of aristocracy. not infallible, i conceive:--not more so, than crippled ribs, occasioned by tight lacing, which may originate in the upper circles, but find hosts of imitators, among the lower orders. "we may add," says mr. davis, writing of this practice, "that this odious custom extends lower down, in the scale of society, than might have been expected, from its disabling effect, upon those, who have to labor for their subsistence. if the custom were first imposed, by the tyranny of the men, the women are fully revenged, in the diminution of their charms and domestic usefulness." mr. davis evidently supposes, that the custom had its rise in jealousy, and a desire to prevent the ambulatory sex, from gadding about. various causes have been assigned, for this disgusting practice. sir john barrow, after expressing his surprise, at the silence of marco polo, on the subject of crippled feet, which were, doubtless, common in his time, observes--"of the origin of this unnatural custom, the chinese relate twenty different accounts, all absurd. europeans suppose it to have originated in the jealousy of the men, determined, says m. de pauw, to keep them '_si etroit qu'on ne peut comparer l'exactitude avec laquelle on les gouverne_.'" a _practice_, which, at its very birth, and during its infancy, required the assignment of some plausible reason, for its existence and support--when it grows up to be a _custom_, lives on and thrives, irrespectively of its origin, and, frequently, in spite of its absurdity. the blackened teeth of the japanese--the goitres of the swiss, in the valley of chamouni--the flattened heads of certain indian races--the crippled feet of the chinese are illustrations of this truth, in the admiration which they still continue to receive. "whatever," says sir john barrow, "may have been the cause, the continuance may more easily be explained: as long as the men will marry none but such as have crippled feet, crippled feet must forever remain in fashion among chinese ladies." m. de pauw, in his philosophical dissertations, alludes to this practice, in connection with that, formerly employed by the egyptians, and which he calls--"_the method of confining the women anciently, in egypt, by depriving them, in some measure, of the use of their feet_." plutarch, in his _precepta connub_, says, that shoes were entirely forbidden to women, by the egyptians. "afterwards," says de pauw, "they imagined it to be inconsistent with decency, that they should appear in public, with the feet naked, and, of course, they remained at home." the kalif, hakin, who founded the religion of the druses, re-enacted this law. de pauw remarks, that the assertion of plutarch might seem doubtful, if a decree, prohibiting the manufacture of shoes for women, under the pain of death, were not found, as it is, in the _kitab-al-machaid_, or bible of the druses. upon my first visit to pwan yekoo and her _suite_, in connection with other visitors, i was not admitted for nearly two hours, after the appointed time. ample sleeping arrangements had not been made, for these celestials; and, for one night, at least, they had been packed, like a crate of china ware, in a closet, or small apartment, contiguous to the hall of exhibition. yekoo was indignant, and refused to show her "golden lilies." by dint of long importunity, she appeared, but in no gentle humor. indeed, when yekoo came forth, followed by lum akum, i was reminded, at a glance, of cruikshank's illustration of mrs. varden, followed by meigs, with the protestant manual. they soon recovered their better nature; and some little attention, paid by the visitors, to the celestial pappooses, put them into tolerably good humor. at the close of the exhibition, we were invited near the platform. it would be superfluous to describe the chinese costume, so commonly presented, in various works. i was especially attracted by the hair of yekoo, and lum akum, who passes for her waiting woman. i examined it with my glasses. it was jet black, coarse, abundant, and besmeared with a stiffening paste or gluten, which mightily resembled grease. upon the top of the head a slender, round stick, about the size of a crow's quill, is attached, projecting _aft_, in marine parlance, several inches, like a small ring tail boom. the design of this is to support the hair, which is thrown over it, and hangs, or is plastered, down with the shining paste, assuming the appearance, seen _a tergo_, of a rudder. the chinese, in relation to the rest of mankind, are, certainly, a contrarious people. in , mr. charles majoribanks addressed a letter to the right hon. charles grant, in which he says: "china may, in many respects, be said to stand alone, among the nations; not only differing, but, in many instances, diametrically opposed, in the nature of its laws, customs, and institutions. a chinese, when he goes into mourning, puts on white; the left hand they consider the place of honor; they think it an act of unbecoming familiarity to uncover the head; their mariner's compass, they assert, points to the south; the stomach they declare to be the seat of the understanding; and the chief god of their idolatry is the devil." suicide is no crime, with the chinese. to receive a present, with one hand, is deemed an act of rudeness. they never say of the departed, that he is _dead_, but that he has _gone to his ancestors_. among the good traits of the chinese are to be numbered filial respect, and general sobriety. in one particular, their legislation may be considered superior to our own--among the grounds of divorce, says mr. davis, they include "_excessive talkativeness_." i have been reared, in the faith, that the chinese are not only a _peculiar_, but an exceedingly _nasty_ generation. according to barrow, and to du halde, in his _hist. gén. de la chine_, they are so liable to a species of leprosy, that, for the purpose of arresting its progress, it is numbered among the causes of divorce. the itch and other cutaneous diseases are extremely common. "they seem," says de pauw, "to have neither horror nor repugnance for any kind of food; they eat rats, bats, owls, storks, badgers, dogs," &c. brand, in his _reise nach china_, observes--"dogs are chiefly employed, as food, by the chinese, during the great heat in summer, because they fancy their flesh to have a cooling quality." barrow was private secretary to the earl of macartnay, and, in , published his travels in china, a work of great merit, and which has been highly lauded, for its candor and fidelity. in proof of my remark, i offer the following quotation, from that work, on pages and . after alluding to the custom of crippling the feet, mr. barrow proceeds--"the interior wrappers of the ladies' feet are said to be seldom changed, remaining sometimes, until they can no longer hold together; a custom that conveys no very favorable idea of chinese cleanliness. this indeed forms no part of their character; on the contrary, they are what swift would call a _frowzy_ people. the comfort of clean linen, or frequent change of under-garments, is equally unknown to the sovereign and the peasant. a sort of thin coarse silk supplies the place of cotton or linen next the skin, among the upper ranks; but the common people wear a coarse kind of open cotton cloth. these vestments are more rarely removed for the purpose of washing, than for that of being replaced with new ones; and the consequence of such neglect is, as might naturally be supposed, an abundant increase of those vermin, to whose growth filthiness is found to be most favorable. the highest officers of state made no hesitation of calling their attendants, in public, to seek in their necks, for those troublesome animals, which, when caught, they very composedly put between their teeth. they carry no pocket handkerchief, but generally blow their noses into small square pieces of paper, which some of their attendants have ready prepared for the purpose. many are not so cleanly, but spit about the rooms, or against the walls, like the french, and they wipe their dirty hands, in the sleeves of their gowns. they sleep at night in the same clothes they wear by day. their bodies are as seldom washed, as their articles of dress. they never make use of the bath, warm or cold. notwithstanding the vast number of rivers and canals, with which every part of the country is intersected, i do not remember to have seen a single group of boys bathing. the men, in the hottest day of summer, make use of warm water, for washing the hands and face. they are unacquainted with the use of soap." i do not disbelieve, that we, occasionally, meet men, who are very dirty, and remarkably orthodox, and, now and then, a well-washed and well-dressed villain--but sin and filth are too frequently found to form the very bond of iniquity. "great crimes," says sir john barrow, "are not common, but little vices pervade all ranks of society. a chinese is cold, cunning, and distrustful; always ready to take advantage of those he has to deal with; extremely covetous and deceitful; quarrelsome, vindictive, but timid and dastardly. a chinese in office is a strange compound of insolence and meanness. all ranks and conditions have a total disregard for truth. from the emperor downwards, the most palpable falsehoods are proclaimed, with unblushing effrontery, to answer a political, an interested, or exculpatory purpose." i beg leave respectfully to suggest to miss yekoo, to pay a little more attention to her teeth, and somewhat improve her personal appearance. the collections, upon their upper portions, are, by no means, necessary to prove her tartar origin. no. cii. death is rarely more unwelcome to any, than to those, who reasonably suppose the perils of the deep to be fairly passed, and who are permitted, after a long sojourn in other lands, to look once again upon their own--so near withal, that their eyes are gladdened, by the recognition of familiar landmarks; and who, in the silent chancel of their miscalculating hearts, thank god, that they are _at home at last_--and yet, in the very midst of life and joy, they are in death! there has ever seemed to me to be something exceedingly impressive, in the death of that eminent patriot, josiah quincy. he died when the bark, which bore him homeward was in sight of land--the headlands of gloucester, april , -- ----dulces moriens reminiscitur argos. few men, of our own country, have accomplished more, or acquired a more honorable celebrity, at the early age of thirty-one. his was a death in the common course of nature. i more especially allude, at this moment, to death as it occurs, from shipwreck, on one's own shores, when the voyage is apparently at an end, and the voyagers are anticipating an almost immediate reunion with their friends. the frequency of these occurrences revives, at the present moment, the sentiment of horace, delivered some eighteen centuries ago-- illi robur et æs triplex circa pectus erat, qui fragilem truci commisit pelago ratem primus.------------ we are oblivious of perils past. the tax on commerce, levied by the whirlwind, and by recklessness, and ignorance, far exceeds the common calculation of those, who know little, experimentally, of the perils of the deep; and who go not down upon the sea in ships. precisely fifty years ago, it was estimated, at lloyd's, that one ship per diem, three hundred and sixty-five ships, annually, were lost, in the open sea, and on lee shores. and, in lloyd's lists, for , it was stated, that six hundred and seventy-seven british vessels were lost, during that year. whether or not it be attributable to that natural eagerness, which increases, as the object of our heart's desire draws near, and is apt to abate somewhat of our ordinary vigilance--certain it is, that calamities of this nature are of no unfrequent occurrence, near the termination of a voyage, and when we have almost arrived at the haven, where we would be. about ten years ago, while enjoying the hospitality of some southern friends, i became acquainted with a lady, the varying expression of whose features arrested my attention, and excited my surprise. whenever her countenance was lighted up, by a smile, it was for an instant only; and an expression of solemnity, and even of sadness, immediately succeeded; as the darkness of an autumnal sky follows the feeble flashes of electric light. i sought an explanation of this peculiarity, from an old friend, who knew this lady well, mr. doddridge crocker, formerly a merchant of this city, and then a resident of charleston. he informed me, that, many years before, he had been a passenger, in company with this lady and her father, together with other citizens of charleston, for new york, on board the rose in bloom. they had a prosperous voyage, until they came in sight of the highlands. the passengers proceeded to make their toilets; and arrangements were in progress, for going speedily on shore. the ship was under a press of canvas, with a strong breeze. the wind shifted its direction suddenly, and soon became a gale. the rose in bloom was capsized, and lost. the lady, said mr. crocker, to whom you refer, and her father, amid the terrible confusion, which ensued, clung to some floating article, whose buoyancy, it soon became apparent, was not sufficient to support them both. the filial and paternal contest may be easily conceived, each entreating the other, to retain the only means of preservation. at length, the father abandoned his hold, and struck out for a floating spar, at some little distance. his struggles were ineffectual--he sunk, before his daughter's eyes! we were, ere long, rescued from our imminent peril. the impression, left upon her mind, was left there forever. the reader may possibly surmise, that my leading remarks have a particular reference to the recent shipwreck of the elizabeth, upon the coast of new york. this catastrophe, which is imputed to ignorance and miscalculation, involves the loss of an interesting and intelligent young gentleman, mr. horace sumner, of this city, and of the marquis and marchioness ossoli, and their child. one of these sufferers i have known, in earlier days. under the quiet, unpresuming roof of her worthy father, mr. timothy fuller, i have met his daughter margaret. few then would have anticipated her melancholy fate, and fewer still, that she would become an italian marchioness! let me devote the remaining space, in the present article, to those unmitigated wretches, with hearts of flint, who rioted and revelled, amid the sufferings of their fellow-beings. an opportunity will now be afforded, to stamp this hellish practice, with all the force of the law, and whatever there may be of indignant severity, in public sentiment. luring vessels on shore, by arranging false lights, and robbing wrecks are crimes of great antiquity. but i had no suspicion, that even the latter practice was carried on, so systematically, and so boldly, as it appears to have been, at the present day, in the state of new york. the names of the places, where these atrocities were committed, fire island, patchogue, islip, babylon have something of a cornish sound, undoubtedly. of old, in all the northern regions of europe, and especially, along the coasts of the baltic sea, a wreck was deemed "_a providence_;" and laws were in force, authorizing the inhabitants to fall on, and plunder at discretion, or, in the language, then employed--"_in naufragorum miseria et calamitate, tanquam vultures, ad prædam currere_." of the earlier periods of our own history, tales have been told, which, though almost beyond belief, would not have been related, if they had not been somewhere, upon the outskirts or frontiers of probability. thus many--many--very many years ago, tradition intimates, that a worthy clergyman of truro was interrupted, in the middle of his discourse, by one of his deacons, who caused the whole congregation to rise _en masse_, by seizing his hat and crying aloud--"_a wreck!_" whereupon the good man is reported, while putting up his notes, and opening the pulpit door, to have exclaimed--"_stay--stay, my christian friends, let us all have a fair start_." more than five hundred years ago, in the th of edward iii., laws were passed, in england, for the punishment of such offenders. these laws were amended and confirmed, in the th of anne, and th of george i., th of george ii., and th of elizabeth. by the statute of george ii., ch. , plundering a vessel, in distress, or wrecked, and putting out false lights, to deceive, were made capital felonies. by the civil law, stealing even a plank from a vessel, in distress, or wrecked, made the offender liable, for the entire ship and cargo. the early neapolitan constitutions and the laws of the wisigoths inflicted the severest punishment, not only upon such as plundered a wreck, but upon all, who were convicted of neglecting to aid a vessel in distress, when in their power to render comfort and assistance. by the laws of the united states--i refer to the act of march , --persons who plunder vessels in distress; and all, who obstruct the escape of the sufferers; the exhibitors of false lights and extinguishers of true ones, with intent to produce shipwreck, are punishable, by fine, not exceeding five thousand dollars, and imprisonment and hard labor, not exceeding ten years. the extreme mildness of this law has always struck me with amazement; for, among the offenders, described in the statute, are those, "_who shall wilfully obstruct the escape of any person, endeavoring to save his or her life_," &c. since men went down upon the sea in ships, there has rarely occurred, in our own country, a case of deeper atrocity, than the present; and, it is to be hoped, that the tribunals of new york will exhibit a forcible example of mercy to the whole community, by a prompt and condign punishment of these heartless wretches. the fiendish spirit, which, of old, animated the buccaneers of the tortugas, will probably never entirely die out from the heart of man, till the period of millennial purgation. it is impossible to conceive of anything, in a population of hyænas, more selfish, cold, and cruel, than the conduct of that abandoned class, of whose existence we have abundant evidence; to whom no music is so sweet, as that of the midnight hurricane; and who have, immemorially, obtained the appellation of _moon-cursers_, because they delight in that darkness, which is suited to their infernal profession. the laws of england have been unable to accomplish the extinction of these miscreants. the cornish coast, exposed, as it is, to marine disaster, has ever been famous, for this species of crime and cruelty. it is chiefly confined to a few parishes, on the craggy shore, between mount's bay and the lizard. "when a wreck takes place," says mr. haydn, page , following the words of phillips, "thousands assemble with hatchets, axes, crowbars, &c., and many women and children fight, by habit, for the plunder, utterly regardless of the sufferers." for the honor of human nature i trust, that many, very many years have gone by, since any such atrocities were practised, upon the sea-coast of new england. the late dr. holbrook, of milton, related an incident, which occurred, during the last war with great britain, extending not beyond mere pilfering; and which, in the case of one individual, at least, had rather an amusing termination. a vessel was wrecked, on nantasket beach; and, her cargo was broken up, and scattered along the shore. on the following day, dr. holbrook was hastily summoned, to visit a patient, who was thought to be dying. he was thoroughly exhausted, and had vomited, through the whole day, a substance, in no degree offensive, but, on the contrary, exceedingly aromatic and agreeable. nevertheless, he was sinking from exhaustion. dr. holbrook could not prevail upon the patient to admit, that he had partaken of any other, than his customary diet. his wife stated, that he had been absent the preceding night, and had not told her, in what manner he had been engaged. at last, the doctor gravely informed him, that it was folly to practise such deception; that, unless a physician knew the nature of the poison, he could not easily prescribe an antidote; and, that, if he persisted in his folly, death might be the consequence. at this, the fellow, who, with others, had been pilfering from the wreck, became thoroughly frightened; and, with an expression of great terror, confessed, that he feared he had _eaten rather too heartily of nutmegs_. no. ciii. in the transcript of august , i notice an editorial criticism, upon the recent employment of the word _catafalque_. in primitive strictness, i believe that criticism to be perfectly correct; and that, in its original signification, _catafalque_ cannot be understood to mean a _funeral car_. in the _grand dictionaire_, by fleming & tibbins, _catafalque_ is thus defined--"_decoration funebre qu'on eleve au milieu d'une église pour y placer le cercueil ou le representation d'un mort a qui l'on veut rendre les plus grands honneurs_." herse is defined, by the same lexicographers, "_un cercueil, une biere, voiture pour porter un mort au tombeau, un char funebre, corbillard, pierre tumulaire provisoire_." thus, while _catafalque_ seems to signify an ornamental structure, erected in the middle of a church, to support the coffin or the effigy of the dead, whom it is intended to honor--_herse_, at the present day, is understood to mean a coffin, a bier, a carriage to bear the dead to the tomb, a funeral car, a van, a temporary mausoleum or gravestone. _herse_, whose etymology, according to johnson, is unknown, imported, three hundred years ago, a temporary structure, in honor of the dead; such also is the meaning of the word _catafalque_; of this, there cannot be the slightest doubt. in this sense, herse was employed by shakspeare, in his henry iv.: "to add to your laments wherewith you now bedew king henry's herse," &c. johnson furnishes two definitions of the word, herse-- . a carriage, in which the dead are conveyed to the grave. . a temporary monument, set over a grave. it is quite certain, however, that the _herse_, whether justly styled _a monument_, or not, was _not_ usually "_set over the grave_," but more frequently, like the _catafalque_, agreeably to the definition given above--_au milieu d'une eglise_. no writer, probably, refers to the _herse_, so frequently, as old john strype, in his memorials; and, in no instance, i believe, in the sense of a _car_ or _vehicle_, or as a structure, "_set over the grave_." strype's memorials are the records of a roman catholic age, or of a period, during which, the usages of the romish church, in england, had not entirely worn out their welcome with the people--the reigns of henry viii., edward vi., bloody mary, and elizabeth. for, even during the reigns of edward vi., and of elizabeth, not a few of those pompous practices, which grew up, in the times of their respective predecessors, still clung upon the imaginations of the populace, and were reluctantly surrendered. the church is the theatre of the romish ecclesiastic. the service is an attractive spectacle. if the world were struck blind, who does not perceive, that the principal supports of romanism would be instantly taken away! it has been the practice of all churches, that deal somewhat extensively, in forms and ceremonies, to demand of their members, with a greater or less degree of peremptoriness, that certain acts shall be publicly performed--_au milieu d'une eglise_. thus the ceremony of marriage--the baptism of infants--the churching of women--and the burial of the dead furnish occasion, for throwing open the temple, and exhibiting its showy furniture to the multitude; and of verifying a pleasing saying of the late eminent, and excellent archbishop of bordeaux, while bishop of boston--"_if we cannot catch them, in one way, we catch them in another_." nothing has ever been a more prolific source of capital to the romish church, in former ages, than funereal parade, _au milieu d'une eglise_. strype, with very few exceptions, speaks of the _herse_ as a "_herse of wax_." to this i have alluded in an earlier number. it may require a brief explanation here. wax candles, of divers colors and forms, were attached to the _herse_, and the wax chandler of those days was in great request, and often rose to wealth and distinction. the reader will readily perceive, that the _herse_, of those early times, was identical with the _catafalque_, if he will give his attention to the following statements--" , on the th of october were the obsequies of the said duke of norfolk celebrated at st. mary overy's: an herse being made with timber, and hanged with black, with his arms, and four goodly candlesticks gilded, and as many great tapers standing about it, all the choir hung in black," &c. mem. vol. iii., part , ch. . here is no _car_, but a temporary structure, _au milieu d'une eglise_--not "_set over the grave_"--_the choir hung in black, &c._ to show how strype distinguished between the _herse_ and a _car_ for conveyance, the reader may turn to the memorials, vol. iii., part , page , where, after describing the ceremonies, in the church, at the funeral of the bishop of winchester, strype adds--"at the gate, the corpse was put into a _wagon_ with four horses, all covered with black," &c. this is our modern _herse_, but was not so called by strype. " .--on the th of may was the lady chamberlin buried, with a fair hearse of wax." the following is sufficiently explicit--" , the same day (july ) began the hearse, at westminster, for the lady anne of cleves, consisting of carpenters' work of seven principals; being as goodly a hearse, as had been seen." vol iii. p. . " .--on the d of august, the body of the lady anne of cleves was brought from chelsy, where her house was, unto westminster, to be buried; with all the children of westminster, and many priests and clerks." father strype did not probably intend to say they were all to be buried together. "then the gray amis of paul's, and three crosses, and the monks of westminster, and my lord bishop of london, and lord abbot of westminster, rode together next the monks. then the two secretaries, sir edmund peckham and sir robert freston, cofferer to the queen of england, my lord admiral and mr. darcy, of essex, and many knights and gentlemen. and before her corpse, her servants, her banner of arms. then her gentlemen and her head officers; and then her chariot, with eight banners of arms, consisting of divers arms, and four banners of images of white taffeta, wrought with gold, and her arms. and so they passed by st. james's, and thence to charing cross, with an hundred torches burning, her servants bearing them. and the twelve beadmen of westminster had new black gowns, bearing twelve torches burning. there were four white branches with arms; then ladies and gentlewomen, all in black with their horses; eight heralds of arms, in black, with their horses, &c., &c. at the church door all did alight; and there the lord bishop of london and the lord abbot, in their copes, did receive the good lady, censing her. men bore her under a canopy of black velvet, with four black staves _and so brought her into the hearse_, and there tarried dirge, remaining there all night, with lights burning." ibid. "on the d was the hearse of the lady anne of cleves, lately set up in westminster abbey, taken down, which the monks, by night, had spoiled of all the velvet cloth, arms, banners, pensils, majesty, and valance and all,--the which was never seen afore so done." ibid. page . hence it is manifest, that the _herse_, in the time of strype, was identical with the _catafalque_ of the present day. nevertheless, _herse_ and _catafalque_ are as clearly not convertible terms, since the latter word can never be correctly applied to a funeral car. two and twenty pages of original record are devoted, by strype, to an account of the "ceremonies and funeral solemnities, paid to the corpse of king henry viii." these pages are extremely interesting, and full of curious detail. they also furnish additional evidence, that _the herse_ was then understood to mean all, that is now meant by _the catafalque_. the works of strype are not in the hands of very many; and the reader will not be displeased to know, in what manner they dealt with the dead body of an english king, some three hundred years ago. a few extracts are all, that my limits will allow:-- "after the corps was cold, and seen by the lords of the privy council and others of the nobility of the realm, as appertained, commandment was given to the apothecaries, chirurgeons, wax-chandlers, and others, to do their duties in spurging, cleansing, bowelling, cering, embalming, furnishing, and dressing with spices the said corpse; and also for wrapping the same in cerecloth of many folds over the fine cloth of rains and velvet, surely bound and trammel'd with cords of silk: which was done and executed of them accordingly, as to the dignity of such a mighty prince it appertaineth; and a writing in great and small letters annexed against the breast, containing his name and style, the day and year of his death, in like manner. and after this don, then was the plumber and carpenter appointed to case him in lead, and to chest him. which being don, the said chest was covered about with blew velvet, and a cross set upon the same." "and the corps being thus ordained, the entrails and bowels were honorably buried in the chappel," &c. mem., vol. , p. . "then was the corps in the chest had into the midds of the privy chamber, and set upon tressels, with a rich pall of cloth of gold, and a cross thereon, with all manner of lights thereto requisite." ibid. "in the said chappel was ordained a goodly, formal herse, with four-score square tapers; every light containing two foot in length, poising in the whole eighteen hundred weight of wax, garnished about with pensils and escutcheons, banners and bannerols of descents. and, at the four corners, four banners of saints, beaten in fine gold upon damask, with a majesty thereover," &c., &c. ibid. . "the second day of the month of february, being wednesday and candlemas day, betwixt eight and nine of the clock at night, the herse being lighted, and all other things appointed and prepared, the said most royal corps was reverendly taken and removed from the chambers, &c., and so brought to the chappel, &c., and there it was honorably set and placed within the said herse under a pall of rich cloth of tissue, garnished with escutheons, and a rich cloth of gold, set with precious stones." ibid. . "and the herse, standing in the midst of said choir, was of a wonderful state and proportion; that is to say formed in the compass of eight panes and thirteen principals, double storied, of thirty-five foot high, curiously wrot, painted and gilded, having in it a wonderful sort of lights, amounting, in price, of wax, to the sum of four thousand pound weight, and garnished underneath with a rich majesty, and a doome double vallanced: on the which, on either side, was written the king's word, in beaten gold, upon silk, and his arms of descents. and the whole herse was richly fringed with double fringes of black silk and gold on either side, both within and without very gorgeous and valiant to behold." ibid. . it does not appear, that, in those days any _single_ english word was employed, to express the _vehicle_, which we call a _hearse_, at the present day, unless the word _bier_ may suffice: and this, like the roman _feretrum_, which i take to be much like our common graveyard article with legs, will scarcely answer the description of a four-wheeled car. i infer, that the _feretrum_ was a thing, which might be taken up, and set down, from the word _posito_ in ovid's fasti, iv., -- osculaque applicuit posito suprema feretro. the _feretrum_ and the _capulus_, among the romans, were designed mainly, for the poor. citizens of any note were borne, as was our own practice, not very many years ago, on the shoulders of their friends. the _funeral car_ of henry viii. was a noble affair:-- "there was ordained for the corps a sumptuous and valuable chariot of four wheels, very long and large, with four pillars, overlaid with cloth of gold at the four corners, bearing a pillow of rich cloth of gold and tissue, fringed with a goodly deep fringe of blew silk and gold; and underneath that, turned towards the chariot, was a marvellous excellent cloth of majesty, having in it a doom artificially wrought, in fine gold upon oyl: and at the nether part of the said chariot was hanged with blew velvet down to the ground, between the wheels, and at other parts of the chariot, enclosed in like manner with blew velvet." ibid. . "the next day early, the february, the chariot was brought to the court hall door; and the corps with great reverence brought from the _herse_ to the same, by mitred prelats and others, temporal lords." ibid. . then, over the area of thirteen remaining pages, the record contains the minute particulars of the monarch's obsequies, which, though full of interest, are no farther to our present purpose. no. civ. bull--i speak not of ole, but of john--bull, when the teazle of opposition has elevated the nap of his temper, is a pestilent fellow: whatever the amount--and there is enough--of the milk of human kindness within him, there is, then, but one way, known among men, of getting it out, and that is, by giving bull a bloody nose; whereupon he comes to his senses directly, and to a just appreciation of himself and his neighbors. true indeed it is, bull is remarkably oblivious; and it sometimes becomes necessary to give him another, which is invariably followed, by the same happy result. _qui hæret in cortice_ will never come at the milk of a cocoa nut. it is necessary to strip off its rough coat, and punch sundry holes in its _wooden walls_, and give it a regular cracking. it is precisely so with bull. when the fit is upon him, bull is terrible. he is the very bull of crete--the bull of claudian, in his rape of proserpine-- dictæus quatiens mugitibus urbes taurus-------------------------- bull is a prodigious fellow; nations tremble at his bellow. there seems to have existed a strange, political hallucination, in regard to bull and jonathan. we are clearly, all of us, of one and the same family--a bull-begotten people; and have a great deal of pleasure, in believing, that old madam bull was the mother of us all. a goodly number of highly respectable bulls came over the water, of old, and were well contented with the green pastures of the new world. they differed, upon some points, from the bulls they had left behind. they did not believe, that there was a power or right, to bellow louder than the rest, vested in any particular bull, which power came down from bull to bull, in unbroken succession, from the bull of bashan. such a belief, in their opinion, would have been a terrible bull. well; all at once, the trans-atlantic bulls began to call the cis-atlantic bulls--_jonathans_. a very good name it was--a great deal better than _bulls_. there could be no objection to the name, in the abstract. but, unfortunately, it was bestowed, as a diminutive, and in derision; and the old bulls, ere long, began to beat their flanks with their tails, and paw up the earth, and look unutterable things, about jonathan's cowardice; and they came over the water in droves, and began to roar awfully; and tore up the earth, under our very noses: and, after doing all, in our power to spare the world the miserable spectacle of a conflict, among bulls, that were brothers, of the whole blood, we went to work, _ex necessitate_, with hoofs and horns; and tossed up such a terrible dust, at lexington, and concord, and bunker's hill, and long island, and white plains, and upon the lakes, and at sheensborough, and albany, and brandywine, and saratoga, and bennington, and germantown, and rhode island, and briar's creek, and camden, and broad river, and guilford, and hobkirk's hill, and the eutaw springs, and york town, and at fifty places beside, that the old bulls were perfectly astonished; and so very severely gored withal, that their roaring sunk, at last, into something like snug's, when he became fearful of frightening the ladies. the old bulls--those that survived--went _back again_, like sawney, out of the peach orchard; and the mammoth bull, in london, publicly acknowledged, that we were as independent a set of bulls, as ever he saw, or heard of. no man, in his senses, marvels, that a contemptuous, and supercilious sentiment, towards us, in our days of small things, should have been indulged, by the vulgar and unphilosophical, among the english people. it is matter for surprise, nevertheless, that so much ignorance of the american character should have existed, in the higher ranks of british society--such disparaging estimates of men and _materiel_, on this side the water--such mistaken conceptions--such a general belief of almost universal pusillanimity, among men, who were not a whit the less englishmen, than their revilers; as though there were something, particularly enervating, in breathing the bracing air of america, and listening to the thorough bass of the wild waters, breaking on our original walls of granite; and in struggling, with our horny hands, along the precipices, for bread--such an awful miscalculation of probabilities, as resulted at last, in the loss to king george of thirteen inestimable jewels, of the fairest water. the impressions, entertained of the americans, by the english people, or a great majority of them, about that period, were truly amusing. it is scarcely worth while to comment on the abuse of us, by the early reviewers, and the taunting inquiry, long--long ago, what american had ever produced an epic?--unluckily, joel did, at last.--this question, thus early and impudently propounded, was quite as sensible, as it might be, to ask men, who, by dint of industry and thrift, are just getting plain shirts to their backs--who among them ever had lace ruffles? we have improved since that time; and _halmost hevery man in the ole population can hutter imself hin werry decent henglish_. josiah quincy, _then_ junior, father of the late president of harvard university, has noted some curious facts, in his journal, as reported by gordon, i. . in a conversation between him and col. barré, who, though he opposed the stamp act, in , supported the boston port bill, in . col. barré said to mr. quincy--"about fourteen or fifteen years ago, i was through a considerable part of your country; for, in the expedition against canada, my business caused me to pass by land, through pennsylvania, new jersey, new york, and albany; and, when i returned again to this country, i was often speaking of america, and could not help speaking well of its climate, soil, and inhabitants; for you must know, sir, america was always a favorite with me. but, will you believe it, sir, yet i assure you it is true, more than two thirds of this island, at this time, thought the americans were all negroes." mr. quincy replied that he did not in the least doubt it, for, if he was to judge by the late acts of parliament, he should suppose, that a great majority of the people of great britain still thought so, for he found that their representatives still treated them as such. the ministry had decided, that "_the punishment of a few of the worst sort of traitors, such as hancock and his crew, might be sufficient to teach the rest their duty, in future_."--"some men of rank in the army," says gordon, i. , "treated all idea of resistance, by the americans, with the utmost contempt. they are neither soldiers, nor ever can be made so, being naturally of a pusillanimous disposition, and utterly incapable of any sort of order or discipline; and by their laziness, uncleanliness, and radical defect of constitution, they are disabled from going through the service of a campaign. many ludicrous stories, to that purport, were told, greatly to the entertainment of the house." jonathan turned out, at the end of the bull baiting, to have been neither a fool nor a coward: and the american congress received a memorable compliment from lord chatham--"_for genuine sagacity, for singular moderation, for manly spirit, for sublime sentiments, and simplicity of language, for everything respectable and honorable, the congress of philadelphia shines unrivalled_." in the war of , bull was the very identical bull, that he had been before: frenchmen were frogs; yankees were cowards--there was nobody that could fight, on the land or the sea, but bull. "it has always," says that wittiest, and, i fear, wickedest of wags, william cobbett, while addressing lord liverpool, "been the misfortune of england, that her rulers and her people have spoken and have thought contemptuously of the americans. was there a man in the country, who did not despise the american navy? was there a public writer beside myself, who did not doom that navy to destruction in a month? did not all parties exceedingly relish the description given, in a very august assembly, of '_half a dozen of fir frigates, with bits of striped bunting tied to their mast heads_'! did not the guerriere sail up and down the american coast, with her name, written on her flag, challenging those fir frigates? did not the whole nation, with one voice exclaim at the affair of the _little belt_--'only let rogers come _within reach_ of one of our _frigates_!' if such was the opinion of the whole nation, with what justice is the board of admiralty blamed, for not sending out the means of combatting this extraordinary sort of foe? and for issuing a privilege to our frigates to run away from one of those _fir things with a bit of striped bunting at its mast head_? the result of the former war, while it enlightened nobody, added to the vindictiveness of hundreds of thousands; so that we have entered into this war with all our old stock of contempt, and a vastly increased stock of rancor. to think that the american republic is to be a great power is unsupportable. of the effect of this contempt i know nobody, who has so much reason to repent, as the officers of his majesty's navy. if they had triumphed, it would only have been over half a dozen _fir things, with bits of bunting at their mast heads_. they were sure to gain no reputation in the contest; and, if they failed, what was their lot? the worst of it is, they themselves did, in some measure, contribute to their own ill fate: for, of all men living, none spoke of poor jonathan with so much contempt. there are some people, who are for taking the american commodores at their word, and ascribing their victories to the immediate intervention of providence. both perry and mcdonough begin their despatches by saying--"_almighty god has given us a victory_." this is keen political satire; and it is well, that it should come to neighbor bull's ears, from the mouth of an englishman. it is more gracefully administered thus. that it was entirely deserved, no one will doubt, who has any recollection of bull's unmeasured and unmitigated impudence, during the war of , in its earlier stages. may god of his infinite mercy grant, that peace societies may have these matters, hereafter, very much their own way; though i have a little misgiving, i confess, as to the expediency of any sudden, or very general conversion of swords into ploughshares, or spears into pruning hooks. no. cv. _modus in rebus_--an admirable proverb, upon all common occasions--is inapplicable, of course, to musical matters. no doubt of it. the luxury of sweet sounds cannot be too dearly bought; and, for its procurement, mankind may go stark mad, without any diminution of their respectability. such i infer to be the popular philosophy of today--_while it is called today_. the moderns have been greatly perplexed, by the legends, which have come down to us, respecting the melody of swans. the _carmina cycnorum_ of ovid, and the _cantantes sublime ferent ad sidera cycni_, of virgil, are perfectly incomprehensible by us. cicero also, in his tusculan questions, i. , says, they die, _cum cantu et voluptate_. martial, xiii. , asserts the matter, very positively-- _dulcia defecta modulatur carmina lingua cantator cycnus funeris ipse sui._ i no more believe in the power of a living or a dying swan to make melody of any kind, than i believe in the antiquated hum-bug of immediate emancipation. pliny had no confidence in the story, and expresses himself to that effect, x. , _olorum morte narratur flebilis cantus (falso, ut arbitror) aliquot experimentis_. no mortal has done more than shakspeare, among the moderns, to perpetuate this pleasant fancy--no bard, when weary of pegasus, and preferring a drive to a ride, has harnessed his cygnets more frequently--or compelled them to sing more sweetly, in a dying hour. a single example may suffice. when prince henry is told, that his father, king john, sang, during his dying frenzy, he says-- "tis strange, that death should sing-- i am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, who chants a doleful hymn to his own death: and, from the organ pipe of frailty, sings his soul and body to their lasting rest." one brief example more--emilia, after the murder of her mistress-- "hark! canst thou hear me? i will play the swan; and die in music." in all this there lurks not one particle of sober prose--one syllable of truth. the most learned refutation of it may be found, in the pseudodoxia of sir thomas browne, ii. , lond. . in the "_memoires de l'académie des inscriptions_," m. morin discusses the question very agreeably, why swans, that sang so delightfully, of old, sing so miserably, at the present day. tame swans, he observes, are mutes: but the wild swan exerts its vocal powers, after a fashion of its own. he introduces the observations of the abbé arnaud, upon the performances of a couple of wild swans, which had located, upon the lagoons of chantilly. "one can hardly say," says the abbé, "that the swans of chantilly sing--they cry; but their cries are truly and constantly modulated. their voice is not sweet; on the contrary, it is shrill, piercing, and rather disagreeable; i could compare it to nothing better than the sound of a clarionet, winded by a person unacquainted with the instrument." nothing surely savors less of melody than this. so thought buffon--"_des sons bruyans de clarion, mais dont les tons aigus et peu diversifiés sont néanmoins tres--éloignés de la tendre mélodie et de la variété douce et brilliante du ramage de nos oiseaux chanteurs_." nat. hist. des oisaux, ix. . in his exposition of this error, imposed upon mankind, by the poets, buffon expresses himself with singular beauty, in the concluding paragraph--"nulle fiction en histoire naturelle, nulle fable chez les anciens n'a ete plus célébrée, plus répétée, plus accréditee; elle s'étoit emparée de l'imagination vive et sensible des grecs; poëtes, orateurs, philosophes méme l'ont adoptée, comme une verité trop agreable pour vouloir en douter. il faut bien leur pardonner leurs fables; elles étoient aimables et touchantes; elles valoient bien de tristes, d'arides verités c'etoient de doux emblémes pour les ames sensibles. les cygnes, sans doute, ne chantent point leur mort; mais toujours, en parlant du dernier essor et de derniers élans d'un beau génie pret á s'éteindre, on rappellera avec sentiment cette expression touchante--_c'est le chant du cygne!_" ibid. . it is not surprising, that these celebrated naturalists, buffon and morin, who discourse, so eloquently, of grecian and roman swans, should say nothing of swedish nightingales, for, between their time and the present, numerous additions have been made to the catalogue of songsters. the very thing, which the barber, arkwright did, for all the spinning jennies, in lancashire, some seventy years ago, has been done by jenny lind, for all the singing jennies upon earth, beside herself--they are cast into the shade. she came here with an irresistible prestige. a singing woman has been a proverb, since the world began; and, of course, long before ulysses dropped in, upon the island of ogygia, and listened to calypso; or fell into serious difficulty, among the sirens. a singing woman, a siren, has been frequently accounted, and with great propriety, a singing bird of evil omen. how grateful then must it be, to know, that, while lending their ears and their eyes to this incomparable songstress, our wives, our daughters, and our sisters have before them a pure, and virtuous, and gentle, and generous creature, as free, as poor, human nature can well be free, from life's alloy, and very much as she was, when created--_a little lower than the angels_. among other mythological matters, pausanias relates, that the three sirens, instigated by juno, challenged the muses to a trial of skill in singing. they were beaten, of course, for the muses, being nine in number, there were three upon one. the victors, as the story goes, proceeded very deliberately, to pluck the golden feathers, from the wings of the vanquished, and converted them into crowns, for their own brows. now, it cannot be denied, that jenny has vanquished us all, and made the golden feathers fly abundantly. but this is not jenny's fault; for, whatever the wisdom or the folly, the affair was our own entirely. if, for the sake of distinction, any one has seen fit to pluck every golden feather from his back, and appear, like the featherless biped of diogenes, and give the golden feathers to jenny, to make her a crown; we have substantial facts, upon which to predict, that jenny will make a better use of those golden feathers, than to fool them away, for a song. if jenny plucks golden feathers, from the backs of the rich, she finds bare spots enough, for a large part of them all, upon the backs of the poor: and, as for the crown, for jenny's brows, if she goes onward, as she has begun, investing her treasure _in heaven_, and selecting the lord for her paymaster, _there_ will be her coronation; and her crown a crown of glory. and, when she comes to lie down and die, let the two last lines of johnson's imperishable epitaph, on philips, be inscribed upon her tomb-- "rest undisturb'd, beneath this marble shrine, till angels wake thee, with a note like thine." orpheus was changed into a swan; philomela into a nightingale; and jenny, in due time, will be changed into an angel. indeed, it is the opinion of some competent judges, that the metamorphosis has already commenced. music is such a delightful, soothing thing, that one grieves, to think its professors and amateurs are frequently so excessively irritable. the disputes, between handel and senesino, and their respective partisans, disturbed all london, and finally broke up the academy of music, after it had been established, for nine years. the quarrels of handel and buononcini are said to have occasioned duels, among the amateurs; and the nation was filled, by these musical geniuses, with discord and uproar. good humor was, in some degree, restored, by the following epigram, so often ascribed to swift, the two last lines of which, however, are alone to be found in the editions of his works, by nicholls, and scott: "some say, that signor buononcini, compar'd with handel, is a ninny; others aver to him, that handel does not deserve to hold a candle; strange, all this difference should be, 'twixt tweedle dum and tweedle dee." this epigram cannot be attributed to that contempt for music, which is sometimes occasioned, by a constitutional inability to appreciate its effect, upon the great mass of mankind. it undoubtedly sprang from a desire to put an end, by the power of ridicule, to these unmusical disturbances of the public peace. swift's musical pun, upon the accidental destruction of a fine cremona fiddle, which was thrown down by a lady's mantua, has always been highly and deservedly commended; and recently, upon the very best authority, pronounced the finest specimen extant of this species of wit--"perhaps," says sir walter scott, in his life of swift, speaking of his puns, i. , "the application of the line of virgil to the lady, who threw down with her mantua a cremona fiddle, is the best ever made-- "mantua væ miseræ nimium vicina cremonæ!" in every nation, and in every age, the power of music has been acknowledged by mankind. now and then, the negative idiosyncracies of certain persons place this particular department of pleasure, beyond the sphere of their comprehension, as effectually as utter blindness denies the power of enjoying the finest specimens of the painter's art. occasionally, some pious divine, absolutely drunk with over-potent draughts of orthodoxy, like the friar, before boccaccio, shakes his holy finger at this wicked world, and warns them to beware of the singing woman! the vocal power of music is ascribed to the angels in heaven; and my own personal knowledge has assured me, that it affords a melancholy solace, to the slave in bonds. i passed the winter of - with an invalid daughter, in the island of st. croix. with a party of some six or eight, we devoted one delightful, moonlight evening, to a ride, on horseback, among the sugar-loaf summits of that beautiful speck amid the main. we were ascending the hills, in the neighborhood of the annelly plantation--the moon was at full, that night; and the caribbean sea, far and wide, shone like a boundless prairie of burnished silver. as we were slowly winding our way, to the summit, one of our party called the attention of the rest to the sounds of music, coming from the slave cabins, at a distance. as we advanced, slowly and silently, towards the spot, the male and female voices were readily distinguished. we drew near, unperceived, and, checking our horses, listened, for several minutes, to the wild, simple notes of these children of bondage. "there is melody in this"--said one of our party aloud, and all was hushed, in an instant. we rode down to the cabins, and begged them to continue their song--but our solicitations were in vain--even the offer of sundry five stiver pieces, which operate, like a charm, upon many occasions, with the _uncles_ and the _aunties_, was ineffectual then. "_no massa--b'lieve no sing any more_"--were the only replies, and we went upon our way. as we descended the annelly hills, on the opposite side, after leaving the negroes and their cabins, at some distance, we halted and listened--they had recommenced--the same wild music was floating upon the breeze. as we rode slowly along, my daughter asked me, if i could account for their reluctance to comply with our request. i told her, i could not. "perhaps," said she, "they have a reason, somewhat like the reason of those, who sat down, by the waters of babylon, and wept, and who could not sing one of the songs of zion, in a strange land." it might have been thus. "_they that carried us away captive, required of us a song! they, that wasted us, required of us mirth!_" no. cvi. while pursuing his free inquiry into the origin of evil, i doubt, if soame jenyns had as much pleasure, as sir joseph banks enjoyed, in his famous investigation, if fleas were the prototypes of lobsters. these inquiries are immeasurably pleasant. when a boy, i well remember my cogitations, what became of the old moons; and how joyously i accepted the solution of my nurse, who had quite a turn for judicial astrology, that they were unquestionably cut up, for stars. it is truly delightful to look into these occult matters--_rerum cognoscere causas_. there are subjects of deep interest, which lie somewhat nearer the surface of the earth--the origin of certain usages and undertakings, and the authorship of certain long-lived works, which appear to be made of a species of literary everlasting, but whose original proprietors have never been discovered. i have great respect, for those antiquarians, whose researches have unlocked so many of these long hidden mysteries; and, however bare-headed i may be, when the venerated names of speed, or strype, or stow, or rushworth, or wood, or holinshed occurs to my memory, i have an involuntary tendency to take off my hat. it was, doubtless, in allusion to their grotesque and uncouth versification, that the earl of rochester prepared his well-known epigram-- "sternhold and hopkins had great qualms, when they translated david's psalms." this version, which held its ground, for a century and a half, and, as chalmers says, slowly gave place to the translation, by tate and brady, had an origin, of which, i presume, few individuals are apprized. thomas sternhold lived to translate fifty-one only of the psalms; and the first edition was published in , with this title--"_all such psalms of david as thomas sterneholde, late groome of the king's majestye's robes did in his lyfetime drawe into englyshe metre_." about this period, the larger cities of the kingdom had become inundated with obscene and blasphemous songs, to such a degree, that some powerful expedient seemed to be required, for the removal of this insufferable grievance. accordingly, the felicitous idea occurred to mr. thomas sternhold, of substituting the psalms of david, as versified by himself, for the bacchanalian songs, then in use, throughout the realm. he anticipated a practical illustration of the command of st. james--"_is any merry let him sing psalms_." ostensibly prepared for the use of the churches, the moving consideration, for this version, with mr. sternhold, was such as i have shown it to be. the motive is plainly stated, in the title-page--"_set forth and allowed to be sung in churches of the people together, before and after evening prayer, as also before and after sermon; and moreover, in private houses, for their godly solace and comfort, laying apart all ungodly songs and ballads, which tend only to the nourishment of vice and the corrupting of youth_." wood, in his athenæ oxonienses, i. , lond: , says of sternhold--"being a most zealous reformer and a very strict liver, he became so scandalized, at the amorous and obscene songs used in the court, that he, forsooth turned into english metre fifty-one of david's psalms, and caused musical notes to be set to them, thinking thereby, that the courtiers would sing them, instead of their sonnets, but did not, only some few excepted." how cheerfully would i go, undieted, for a long summer's day, to know who was the author of "jonny armstrong's last good night;" and for a much longer term, to ascertain the writer of chevy chase, of which ben jonson used to say, he had rather have been the author of it, than of all his works. the words of sir philip sidney, in his discourse on poetry, are quoted, by addison, in no. of the spectator--"_i never heard the old song of percy and douglas, that i found not my heart more moved than with a trumpet_." the ballad of chevy chase was founded upon the battle of otterburn, which was fought in , and of which a brief account will be found in the fourteenth chapter of sir walter's first series of the grandfathers tales. the author of those songs for children, which have been lisped, by the tongues of millions, shall never be forgotten, while dogs delight to bark and bite--but who was the author of hush-a-bye baby--now we go up, up, up--cock robin--or dickory dock, no human tongue can tell! poor andré, we know, was the author of the cow chace; but the composer of our national air is utterly unknown. who would not give more of the _siller_, to know to whose immortal mind we are indebted for yankee doodle, than to ascertain the authorship of the letters of junius? both france and england have been more fortunate, in respect to the origin and authorship of their most popular, national songs. speaking of barbaroux and the marseillois, sir walter scott, in his life of napoleon, observes--"besides the advantage of this enthusiastic leader, the marseillois marched to the air of the finest hymn, to which liberty or the revolution had yet given birth." i am aware that something like doubt or obscurity hangs over the reputed authorship of the hymn of the marseillais. but in respect to the national air of great britain--_god save the king_--the authorship appears to be more satisfactorily, if not perfectly, indicated. it is certainly worthy of note, that this celebrated air, in which _john bull_ has taken so much delight, ever since it came into existence, is by some persons supposed to have been the production of john bull himself, a celebrated composer of his day. an engraving of him may be found, in the history of music, by hawkins. there is an original painting of him, by j. w. childe, in the music school, at oxford, which was engraved by illman, with the words below--"john bull, mus. doct. cantab. instaur. oxon. mdxcii." a portrait of dr. bull will also be found, in richard clarke's _account of the national anthem, god save the king_, vo. lond. . the account of bull, by wood, in his fasti, i. , lond. , is somewhat amusing--" , july .--john bull, who had practised the fac. of music for years, was then admitted batch, of music. this person, who had a most prodigious hand on the organ, and was famous, throughout the religious world, for his church music, had been trained up under an excellent master, named blitheman, organist of qu. elizabeth's chappel, who died much lamented, in . this blitheman perceiving that he had a natural geny to the faculty, spared neither time nor labor to advance it to the utmost. so that in short time, he being more than master of it, which he showed by his most admirable compositions, played and sung in many churches beyond the seas, as well as at home, he took occasion to go incognito, into france and germany. at length, hearing of a famous musician, belonging to a certain cathedral, (at st. omers, as i have heard,) he applied himself, as a novice, to learn something of his faculty, and to see and admire his works. this musician, after some discourse had passed between them, conducted bull to a vestry, or music school, joyning to the cathedral, and shew'd him a lesson, or song of forty parts, and then made a vaunting challenge to any person in the world to add one more part to them, supposing it to be so compleat and full, that it was impossible for any mortal man to correct or add to it. bull thereupon desiring the use of ink and rul'd paper (such as we call musical paper) prayed the musician to lock him up in the said school for or hours; which being done, not without great disdain by the musician, bull, in that time or less, added forty more parts to the said lesson or song. the musician thereupon being called in, he viewed it, try'd it and retry'd it. at length he burst out into great ecstacy, and swore by the great god, that he that added those parts must either be the devil or dr. bull, &c. whereupon bull making himself known, the musician fell down and adored him." of music it may be said, as of most other matters--_the fashion of these things passeth away_. so great was the fame of bull in his day, and such tempting offers of preferment were made him, by the emperor, and by the kings of france and spain, that queen elizabeth commanded him home. it is stated, in the biographical history of england, ii. , that the famous dr. pepusch preferred some of the lessons in bull's partheniæ, to the productions of most of the composers of that time. yet dr. burney says of these lessons--"_they may be heard, by a lover of music, with as little emotion as the clapper of a sawmill, or the rumbling of a post-chaise_." musicians are a sensitive and jealous generation. "handel," says chalmers, "despised the pedantry of pepusch; and pepusch, in return, refused to join, in the general chorus of handel's praise." handel, when a stripling at hamburgh, laid claim to the first harpsichord, against a master, greatly his superior, in point of years, and the matter, upon trial, was decided in handel's favor, which so incensed the other, that he drew, and made a thrust, at his young rival, whose life, according to dr. burney's version, was saved, by a fortunate contact, between the point of the rapier and a metal button. the principles, which govern, in all mutual admiration societies, are deeply laid in the nature of man. if handel had borne the pedantry of dr. pepusch, with forbearance, or common civility, the doctor would have, doubtless, afforded handel the advantage of his highest commendation. the managers of musical matters act wisely, in tendering, to every conductor of a public journal, the melle soporatam et medicatis frugibus offam-- but i fear they are not always as cautious and discriminating, as the occasion appears to demand. how very different would have been the fate of the poor strolling player, whom goldsmith so pleasantly describes, had he taken a little more pains--only a little--to propitiate "_the lady, who had been nine months in london_!" the managers, upon such occasions, should never omit the most careful espionage, into the musical pretensions of every member of the press--i speak of their pretensions, and not of their actual knowledge--that, in the present connection, is of little importance: and, when they discover one of this powerful brotherhood, who, in musical matters, would be thought to know more than his neighbors, however mistaken he may be--let them pay him particular attention--let them procure him an excellent seat--once--twice perhaps--express a hope, that he is well accommodated--and occasionally, during the performance, be sure to catch his eye, as if with a "fearful longing after immortality," such as tomorrow's leader may possibly confer on the candidate for fame. how often the omission to observe these simple rules has been followed, by faint praise, and invidious discriminations! no. cvii. my great grandmother used to say, that she never desired to be told, that anything was broken, in her household; for, though she had been a housekeeper, for fifty years, nothing was ever broken, in her family, that had not been cracked before. i have the very same feeling in regard to the majority of all inventions and discoveries; for some ingenious fellow invariably presents himself, who, as it turns out, had verified the suggestion already. i never found my mind in a very feverish condition, while pursuing the inquiry, whether the art of medicine was first invented, by hermes, isis, or osiris; nor while examining the arguments, ingenious though they are, of clemens alexandrinus, to prove, that moses was a very respectable apothecary. i have ever supposed, that necessity, the mother of invention, was the inventress of the blessed art; and that the origin was somewhat on this wise:--before the transgression, all went on well--there were neither aches nor ails--the apple certainly disagreed with adam--he sought relief, by hunting for an antidote; and finding great comfort, in chewing such carminative herbs, as catmint and pennyroyal, he prescribed them to the sharer of his joys and sorrows. it is quite likely, that, with no family, and a great deal of time upon her hands, while walking in her garden, as poppies were not forbidden, eve, to satisfy her curiosity, might have sucked their narcotic juice; and thus acquired a knowledge of opiates, so useful, ever since the fall. physicking was, at first, a very general affair. whether benevolence, or the desire of a little reputation lies at the bottom, there has ever existed, among mankind, a pungent, irresistible desire to physick one another. it is to be regretted, that irenæus, who was just the man for it, had not given a few years of his life to ascertain, if eve, during the parturition of cain, or abel, received any alleviation, from slippery elm. plato, theoctet. p. , says, the midwives of athens did great, good service, on these occasions, with certain drugs and charms. in the beginning, so little was to be known, upon this subject, it is not wonderful, that almost every man should have known that little. thus, according to homer, od. iv., , every egyptian was a doctor:-- "from pæon sprung, their patron god imparts to all the pharian race his healing arts." herodotus, who was born, about , b. c., in book ii. of his history, sec. , speaks distinctly of the fact, that the egyptian _doctors_ were not physicians, in the general sense, but confined their practice, respectively, to particular diseases. the passage may be thus translated--_now, in truth, the art of medicine with them was so distributed, that their physicians managed particular disorders, and not diseases generally; thus, though all were referred to the physicians, some were doctors for the eyes, some for the head, some for the teeth, some for the belly, and some for the occult diseases_. the first mention of physicians, in holy writ, is in genesis, , --"_and joseph commanded his servants, the physicians, to embalm his father: and the physicians embalmed israel_." _physicians_, to this extent, were mechanical operators; and the celebrated physicians of greece, chiron, machaon, podalirius, poeon, and even Æsculapius, were _surgeons_. their art, as pliny says, did not go beyond curing a green wound. the cure of internal, or complicated, disorders was beyond their province. celsus says, that podalirius and machaon, the physicians, who went with agamemnon, to the wars of troy, were never employed, to cure the plague, or internal maladies, nor anything but external injuries. no physician was required to manage external applications, in certain cases of common occurrence. in kings ii. xx. , hezekiah appears to have thought himself extremely sick; when isaiah applied a poultice of figs to his boil, and he soon was upon his legs again. this seems to have been accounted a remarkable cure, in those days, for isaiah thought it worth repeating, xxxviii. . job does not appear to have resorted to fig poultices, nor to any remedies, whatever: and, while hezekiah behaved like a great baby, and wept bitterly, job toughed it out, like a man; and, instead of mourning and murmuring, under the torment, not of one, but of countless boils, he poured forth torrents of incomparable eloquence, all the while, on various topics. job's affliction, being viewed in the light of a direct judgment, it was deemed quite outrageous, by many, to stave off the wrath of heaven, by interposing fig poultices, or remedies of any kind. thus it appears, that asa suffered severely with the gout; and there is a sharp fling against him, chron. ii. xvi. , on account of his want of faith--"_yet in his disease he sought not to the lord, but to the physicians_." this seems to be in accordance, with the opinion of those modern fathers, who consider the use of ether or chloroform, in obstetric cases, a point blank insult to the majesty of heaven, because of the primeval fiat--_in sorrow shalt thou bring forth children_. the race of cyclops entertained a similar sentiment of submission, in sickness, according to homer, od. ix. . when _oudeis_ (_anglice noman_) which always seemed to me an undignified pun, for an epic, had put out the eye of polyphemus, his roaring collected the neighboring giants. they inquired, outside the portal, what was the matter; and he replied, that _oudeis_--_noman_--was killing him; upon which they reply-- "if _noman_ hurts thee, but the power divine inflict disease, it fits thee to resign. to jove or to thy father neptune pray, the cyclops cried, and instant strode away." the theory was, that god worked upon mortals, by the agency of a great number and variety of evil spirits, or devils; and that the employment of remedial means was therefore neither more nor less, than withstanding the almighty. hence arose the custom, being supposed less offensive, in the sight of heaven, of resorting to charms and incantations; and of employing diviners and magicians; and, as old sir robert walpole is reported to have said, that every man has his price; so it was supposed to be the case, with those devils, who were engaged, in the system of tormenting mankind. instead therefore of turning directly to the lord, the sufferers were much in the habit of making their propitiatory suit, directly, to some false god, or influential demon. of this we have an example, in kings ii. i. , et seq. ahaziah, king of israel, went up into his garret, probably, in the dark, and fell through the scuttle. he was severely bruised, and sent a messenger, post haste, to ekron, to consult the false god, baalzebub. elisha, who, though a prophet, had no reputation, as a physician, was consulted by hazael and by naaman, about their distempers. enchantments, talismans, music, phylacteries were in use, among the hebrews, and formed no small part of their _materia medica_. charms were used, as preventives against the bites of serpents. "who," says ecclesiasticus xii. , "_will pity a charmer, that is bitten with a serpent_?" this seems not to have availed, against the deaf adder, "which," psalm lviii. , "_will not hearken to the voice of charmers, charming never so wisely_." and jeremiah, viii. , declares, that the lord will send cockatrices and serpents, that will not be charmed, upon any terms whatever. some verses are preserved, by cato, de re rustica, art. , which were used, in reducing a dislocated member. dr. johnson has informed us, though without naming his authority, that abracadabra was a superstitious charm, against agues. it is quite amusing, while reading sir thomas browne's remarks on quackery, in his pseudodoxia, ch. xi. to see how readily he admits satanic agency, himself. take the following passage--"when gracchus was slain, the same day the chickens refused to come out of the coop; and claudius pulcher underwent the like success, when he commanded the tripudiary augurations; they died, not because the pullets would not feed, but because the devil foresaw their death, and contrived that abstinence in them." sir thomas was a wise and safe counsellor, in all cases, in which there was no chance for the devil to operate; but whenever there was a loop hole, according to the belief in those days, for diabolical influence to creep through, no man was more inclined to give the devil his due, than sir thomas. in this chapter, designed to be purely philosophical, he says of satan--"he deludeth us also by philters, ligatures, charms, ungrounded amulets, characters, and many superstitious ways, in the cure of common diseases, seconding herein the expectation of men with events of his own contriving, which, while some, unwilling to fall directly upon magic, impute unto the power of imagination, or the efficacy of hidden causes, he obtains a bloody advantage." this description of the devil and of his manoeuvres so precisely fits the empiric, and all his proceedings, that i should suspect sir thomas of the unusual sin of perpetrating a pleasantry; and, under the devil's _effigies_, presenting the image of a charlatan; were it not, for the knowledge we have of this great and good man's credulity, and his firm belief in satanic realities; and, that, in part upon his own testimony, two miserable women were condemned and executed, for witchcraft. no. cviii. john jahn says, in his biblical archæology, upham's translation, page , that, in babylon, when first attacked with disease, the patients were placed in the streets, for the purpose of ascertaining, from casual passengers, what practices or medicines _they_ had found useful, in similar cases. imagine a poor fellow, suddenly attacked with a windy colic, and deposited for this purpose, in state street, in the very place, formerly occupied, by the razor-strop man, or the magnolia merchant! if it be true--i very much doubt it--that, in a multitude of counsellors, there is safety, this must be an excellent arrangement for the patient. i have often thought, that benevolence was getting to be an epidemic; particularly when i have noticed the attentions of one or two hundred charitably disposed persons, gathered about a conservative horse, that would not budge an inch. they have not the slightest interest in the horse, nor in the driver--it's nothing under heaven, but pure brotherly love. the driver is distracted, by the advice of some twenty persons, pointing with sticks and umbrellas, in every direction, and all vociferating together. in the meanwhile, three or four volunteers are belaboring the shins of the refractory beast, while as many are rapping his nose with their sticks. four stout fellows, at least, are trying to shove the buggy forward, and as many exerting their energies, to shove the horse backward. half a dozen sailors, attracted by the noise, tumble up to the rescue; three seize the horse's head, and pull _a starboard_, and three take him, by the tail, and pull _to larboard_, and all yell together, to the driver, to put his helm hard down. at last, urged, by rage, terror, and despair, the poor brute shakes off his persecutors, with a rear, and a plunge, and a leap, and dashes through the bow window of a confectioner's shop, or of some dealer in naked women, done in parian. i am very sorry we have been delayed, by this accident. let us proceed. never has there been known, among men, a more universal diffusion of such a little modicum of knowledge. the knowledge of the materia medica and of pathology, what there was of it, seems to have been held, by the babylonians, as tenants in common, and upon the agrarian principle--every man and woman had an equal share of it. such, according to john jahn, professor of orientals in vienna, was the state of therapeutics, in babylon. the egyptians carried their sick into the temples of serapis--the greeks to those of Æsculapius. written receipts were preserved there, for the cure of different diseases. professor jahn certainly seems disposed to make the most of the knowledge of physic and surgery, among the israelites. he says they had "_some acquaintance with chirurgical operations_." in support of this opinion, he refers to the rite of circumcision, and to--nothing else. he also says, that it is evident "_physicians sometimes undertook to exercise their skill, in removing diseases of an internal nature_." if the reader is good at conundrums, will he be so obliging as to _guess_, upon what evidence the worthy professor grounds this assertion? i perceive he gives it up--well--on samuel i. xvi. . and what sayeth samuel?--"and saul's servants said unto him, behold now an evil spirit from god troubleth thee. let our lord now command thy servants, which are before thee, to seek out a man, who is a cunning player on a harp: and it shall come to pass, when the evil spirit from god is upon thee, that he shall play with his hand, and thou shalt be well." this, reduced into plain language, is simply this--saul's servants took the liberty of telling his majesty, that the devil was in him, and he had better have a little music. accordingly, david was called in--_as a physician_, according to jahn--and drove the devil out of saul, by playing on his jews'-harp. jahn also informs us, and the bible did before, that the art of healing was committed to the priests, who were specially bound, by law, "_to take cognizance of leprosies_." there were, as he admits, other _physicians_, probably of little note. _the priests_ were the regular, legalized faculty. on this ground, we can explain the severe reproach, cast upon asa, who, when he had the gout, "_sought not the lord but to the physician_:" that is, he did not seek the lord, in prayer, through the intermediation of the regular faculty, the priests. there are ecclesiastics among us, who consider, that the levitical law is obligatory upon the priesthood, throughout the united states of america, at the present day; and who believe it to be _their_ bounden duty, to take cognizance of leprosies, and all other disorders; and to physick the bodies, not less than the souls, of their respective parishioners. to this i sturdily object--not at all, from any doubt of their ability, to practise the profession, as skilfully, as did the son of jesse, and to drive out devils with a jews'-harp; and to cure all manner of diseases, in the same manner, in which the learned kircherus avers, according to sir thomas browne, vol. ii. page , lond. , the bite of the tarantula is cured, by songs and tunes; and to soothe boils as big as king hezekiah's, with fig poultices, according to scripture; for i have the greatest reverence for that intuition, whereby such men are spared those _studia annorum_, so necessary for the acquirement of any tolerable knowledge of the art of medicine, by all, who are not in holy orders. my objection is of quite another kind--i object to the union of the cure of souls and the cure of bodies, in the same person; as i object to the union of church and state, and to the union of the power of the purse and the power of the sword. it is true, withal, that when a sufferer is killed, by ministerial physic, which never can happen, of course, but for the patient's want of faith, nobody dreams of such an irreverent proceeding, as pursuing the officious priest, for _mala praxis_. priests and witches, jugglers, and old women have been the earliest practitioners of medicine, in every age, and every nation: and the principal, preventive, and remedial medicines, in all the primitive, unwritten pharmacopæias, have been consecrated herbs and roots, charms and incantations, amulets and prayers, and the free use of the jews'-harp. the reader has heard the statement of professor jahn. in , dr. winterbottom, physician to the colony of sierra leone, published, in london, a very interesting account of the state of medicine, in that colony. he says, that the practice of physic, in africa, is entirely in the hands of old women. these practitioners, like the servants of saul, believe, that almost all diseases are caused by evil spirits; in other words, that their patients are bedevilled: and they rely, mainly, on charms and incantations. dr. w. states, that the natives get terribly drunk, at funerals--funerals produce drunkenness--drunkenness produces fevers--fevers produce death--and death produces funerals. all this is imputed to witchcraft, acting in a circle. in the account of the voyage of the ship duff to tongataboo, in , the missionaries give a similar statement of the popular notion, as to the origin of diseases--the devil is at the bottom of them all; and exorcism the only remedy. in mill's british india, vol. ii. p. , lond. , the reader may find a statement of the paltry amount of knowledge, on the subject, not only of medicine, but of surgery, among the hindoos: "even medicine and surgery, to the cultivation of which so obvious and powerful an interest invites, had scarcely attracted the rude understanding of the hindus." sir william jones, in the asiatic researches, vol. i. p. , says, "there is no evidence, that, in any language of asia, there exists one original treatise on medicine, considered as a science." crawford, in his sketches, and he has an exalted opinion of the hindoos, states, that surgery is unknown among them; and, that, in cases of wounds from the sabre or musket, they do no more than wash the wound; bind it up with fresh leaves, and keep the patient on rice gruel. buchanan, in his journey, through mysore, vol. i. p. , informs us, that medicine was in the hands of ignorant and impudent charlatans. origen, who was born, about a. d., states that the egyptians believed thirty-six devils divided the human body, among them; and that diseases were cured, by supplication and sacrifice, to the particular devil, within whose precinct the malady lay. this is a convenient kind of practice. may it not have some relation to the fact, referred to by herodotus, in his history, book ii. sec. , that the doctors, in egypt, were not practitioners, in a general sense, but for one part of the body only. possibly, though i affirm nothing of the sort, origen may have written _devils_ for _doctors_, by mistake: for the doctors, in those days, were, manifestly, very little better. if it be true--_et quis negat?_--that hippocrates was the father of physic--the child was neither born nor begotten, before its father, of course, and hippocrates was born, about b. c., which, according to calmet, was about years after david practised upon saul, with his jews'-harp. his genealogy was quite respectable. he descended from Æsculapius, through a long line of doctors; and, by the mother's side, he was the eighteenth from hercules, who was, of course, the great grandfather of physic, at eighteen removes; and who, it will be remembered, was an eminent practitioner, and doctored the hydra. divesting the subject of all, that is magical and fantastical, hippocrates thought and taught such rational things, as no physician had thought and taught before. it appears amazing to us, the uninitiated, that the healing art should have been successfully practised at all, from the beginning of the world, till , in utter ignorance of the circulation of the blood; yet it was in that year the discovery was made, when dr. william harvey dedicated to charles i. and published his _exercitatio anatomica de motu cordis et sanguinis_. no. cix. quackery may be found, in every vocation, from the humblest, to the holiest. _if the dead rise not at all_, says st. paul, _what shall they do, who are baptized for the dead_! nine different opinions are set forth, by bosius, in regard to the true meaning of this passage. scaliger and grotius, who were men of common sense, conclude, that st. paul referred to a practice, existing at the time; and st. chrysostom tells a frolicsome story of this vicarious baptism; that a living sponsor was concealed under the bed of the defunct, and answered all the questions, put by the sagacious priest, to the corpse, about to be baptized. the dead have been, occasionally, through inadvertence, summoned to give evidence, in courts of justice. but, fortunately for quacks, in every department, dead men are mute upon the stand. saul, if we may believe the singing women, who came out to meet him, after the fall of goliath, hath slain his thousands; and, could dead men testify, it would, doubtless, appear, that quacks have slain their tens of thousands. when we consider the overbearing influence of that ignorant, impudent, and plausible jabber, which the quack has always at command, it must be admitted, that these, his fatal victories, are achieved, with the very same weapon, employed by samson, in his destruction of the philistines. there is nothing marvellous, in the existence of quackery, if we recognize the maxim of m. sorbiere, in his _relation d'une voiage en angleterre_, p. , _homo est animal credulum et mendax_--man is a credulous and lying animal. david said, that all men were liars; but, as this is found in one of his lyrics, and he admits, that he uttered it in haste, it may be fairly carried to the account of _poetica licentia_. with no more, however, than a moderate allowance, for man's notorious diathesis towards lying, for pleasure or profit, it is truly wonderful, that credulity should preserve its relative level, as it does, and ever has done, since the world began. many, who will not go an inch with the almighty, without a sign, will deliver their noses, for safe keeping, into the hands of a charlatan, and be led by him, blindfold, to the charnel-house. take away credulity, and the world would speedily prove an exhausted receiver, for all manner of quackery. at the close of the seventeenth century, there was a famous impostor in france, whom the royal family, on account of his marvellous powers, invited to paris. his name was james aymar. i shall speak of him more fully hereafter; and refer to him, at present, in connection with a remark of leibnitz. aymar's imposture had no relation to the healing art, but the remark of leibnitz is not, on that account, the less applicable. that great man wrote a letter, in , which may be found in the journal of tenzelius, in which he refers to aymar's fraud, and to his subsequent confession, before the prince of condè. aymar said, according to leibnitz, that he was led on, _non tam propria audacia, quam aliena credulitate hominum, falli volentium, et velut obtrudentium sibi_--not so much by his own audacity, as by the credulity of others, who were not only willing to be cheated, but actually thrust themselves upon him. all paris was occupied, in attempting to explain the mystery of aymar's performances, with his wonderful wand: and leibnitz says-- _nuper scripsi parisios, utilius et examine dignius, mihi videri problema morale vel logicum, quomodo tot viri insignes lugduni in fraudem ducti fuerint, quam illud pseudo-physicum, quomodo virga coryllacea tot miracula operetur_--i wrote lately to the parisians, that a solution of the moral or logical problem, how it happened, that so many distinguished persons, in lyons, came to be taken in, seemed to me of much greater utility, and far more worthy of investigation, than how this fellow performed miracles, with his hazel wand. it is worth noting, perhaps, that leibnitz himself, according to the statement of the abbé conti, in the _gazzette litteraire_, for , fell a victim to a quack medicine, given him by a jesuit, for the gout. ignorance is the hotbed of credulity. this axiom is not the less respectable, because the greatest philosophers, occasionally, place confidence in the veriest fools, and do their bidding. wise and learned men, beyond the pale of their professional pursuits, or peculiar studies, are, very frequently, the simplest of simple folk--_non omnia possumus omnes_. ignorance must be very common; for a vast majority of the human race have not proceeded so far, in the great volume of wisdom and knowledge, as that profitable but humiliating chapter, whose perusal is likely to stimulate their energies, by convincing them, that they are of yesterday and know nothing. credulity must therefore be very common. credulity has very little scope, for its fantastical operations among the exact sciences. who does not foresee the fate of a geometrical quack, who should maintain, that the square of the hypothenuse, in a right-angled triangle, is either greater or less than the sum of the squares of the sides; or of the quack arithmetician, who would persuade our housewives, that of two and two pounds of muscovado sugar, he had actually discovered the art of making five? the healing art--the science of medicine, cannot be placed, in the exact category. it is a popular saying, that _there is a glorious uncertainty in the law_. this opinion has been ably considered, by that most amiable and learned man, the late john pickering, in his lecture, on the alleged uncertainty of the law--before the society for the diffusion of useful knowledge, in . the credulity of the client, to which mr. pickering does not refer, must, in some cases, be of extraordinary strength and quality. after presenting a case to his counsel, as favorably to himself as he can, and carefully suppressing much, that is material and adverse, he fondly believes, that his advocate will be able to mesmerise the court and jury, and procure a verdict, in opposition to the facts, apparent at the trial. he is disappointed of course; and then he complains of the uncertainty of the law, instead of the uncertainty of the facts. in a dissertation, before the medical society, in june, , dr. george cheyne shattuck, after setting forth a melancholy catalogue of the troubles and perplexities of the medical profession, concludes by saying, that "all these trials, to which the physician is subjected, do not equal that, which proceeds from the _uncertainty_ of the healing art." when we contrast this candid avowal, from an accomplished and experienced physician, with the splendid promises, and infallible assurances of empirics--with their balms of gilead, panaceas, and elixirs of everlasting life--we cannot marvel, that the larger part of all the invalids, in this uncertain and credulous world, fly from those conservative professors, who promise nothing, to such as will assure them of a perfect relief, from their maladies, no matter how complicated, or chronic, they may be--with four words of inspiriting import--no cure no pay. i am no physician; my opinion therefore is not presented _ex cathedra_: but the averment of dr. shattuck is, i presume, to be viewed in no other light, than as the opinion of an honorable man, who would rather claim too little, than too much, for his own profession: who would rather perform more, than he has promised, than promise more, than he can perform. if the regularly bred and educated physician complains of uncertainty, none but a madman would seek for its opposite, in the palace, or the kennel, of a quack; for the charlatan may occasionally be found in either. the first thing to be done, i suppose, by the regular doctor, is to ascertain what the disease is. this, i believe, is the very last thing, thought of by the charlatan. he is spared the labor of all pathological inquiry, for all his medicines are, fortunately, panaceas. thus, he administers a medicine, for the gout; the patient does not happen to have the gout, but the gravel; it is the same thing; for the physic, like our almanacs, was calculated, for different meridians. these gentlemen sometimes limit their practice to particular diseases, cancers, fistulas, fevers, &c. a memorial was presented, some few years since, to the legislature of alabama, for the establishment of a medical college, to be devoted, exclusively, to vegetable practice. a shrewd, old member of the assembly rose, and spoke, much after this fashion--i shall support this measure, mr. speaker, on one condition, that a neighbor of mine shall be appointed president of this college. it is proper, therefore, that you should know how far he is qualified. he was a travelling merchant; dealt chiefly in apple-trade and other notions, and failed. he had once taken an old book, on fevers, in exchange for essences. this he got by heart. fevers are common with us. he was a man of some tact; and, a week after he failed, he put up his sign, "bela bodkin, fever doctor--roots and herbs--f. r. s.--l. l. d.--m. d. no charge to the poor or the reverend clergy."--when asked, what he meant by adding those capital letters to his name, he said the alphabet was common property; that f. r. s. stood for feverfew, ragwort, and slippery elm--l. l. d. for liverwort, lichens, and dill--and m. d. for milk diet. the thing took--his garret was crowded, from morning till night, and the regular doctor was driven out of that town. those, who got well, proclaimed dr. bodkin's praises--those, who died, were a very silent majority. everybody declared, of the dead, 'twas a pity they had applied too late. bodkin was once called to a farmer's wife. he entered the house, with his book under his arm, saying fever! with a loud voice, as he crossed the threshhold. this evidence of his skill was astonishing. without more than a glance at the patient, he asked the farmer, if he had a sorrel sheep; and, being told, that he had never heard of such a thing, he inquired, if he had a sorrel horse. the farmer replied, that he had, and a very valuable one. dr. bodkin assured him the horse must be killed immediately, and a broth made of the _in'ards_ for the sick wife. the farmer hesitated; the wife groaned; the doctor opened the book, and showed his authority--there it was--readable enough--"_sheep sorrel, horse sorrel, good in fevers_." the farmer smiled--the doctor departed in anger, saying, as he went, "you may decide which you will sacrifice, your wife or your nag." the woman died, and, shortly after, the horse. the neighbors considered the farmer a hard-hearted man--the wife a victim to the husband's selfishness--the sudden death of the horse a particular providence--and dr. bodkin the most skilful of physicians. no. cx. no class of men, not even the professors of the wrangling art, are, and ever have been, more universally used and abused, than the members of the medical profession. it has always appeared to me, that this abuse has been occasioned, in some degree, by the pompous air and papal pretensions of certain members of the faculty; for the irritation of disappointment is, in the ratio of encouragement and hope; and the tongue of experience can have little to say of the infallibility of the medical art. the candid admission of its uncertainty, by dr. shattuck, in his dissertation, to which i have referred, is the true mode of erecting a barrier, between honorable and intelligent practitioners, and charlatans. the opinion of cato and of pliny, in regard to the art is, of course, to be construed, with an allowance, for its humble condition, in their day. with the exception of the superstitious, and even magical, employment of roots and herbs, it consisted, essentially, in externals. there was nothing like a systematic nosology. the [greek: iatroi] of athens, and the _medici_ of rome were _vulnerarii_, or surgeons. cato, who died at the age of , u. c. , is reported, by pliny, lib. xxix. cap. , to have said of the doctors, in a letter to his son marcus--_jurarunt inter se, barbaros, necare omnes, medicina_. they have sworn among themselves, barbarians as they are, to kill us all with their physic. in cap. of the same book, he thus expresses his opinion--_mutatur ars quotidie, toties interpolis, et ingeniorum greciæ flatu impellimur: palamque est, ut quisque inter istos loquendo polleat, imperatorem illico vitæ nostræ necisque fieri: ceu vero non millia gentium sine medicis degant_. the art is varying, from day to day: as often as a change takes place, we are driven along, by some new wind of doctrine from greece. when it becomes manifest, that one of these doctors gains the ascendency, by his harangues, he becomes, upon the spot, the arbiter of our life and death; as though there were not thousands of the nations, who got along without doctors. in the same passage he says, the art was not practised, among the romans, until the sixth hundredth year, from the building of the city. the healing art seems to have been carried on, in those days, with fire and sword, that is, with the knife and the cautery. in cap. , of the same book, pliny tells us, that, u. c. , _romam venisse--vulnerarium--mireque gratum adventum ejus initio: mox a sævitia secandi urendique transisse nomen in carnificem, et in tædium artem_--there came to rome a surgeon, who was, at first, cordially received, but, shortly, on account of his cuttings and burnings, they called him a butcher, and his art a nuisance. a professional wrestler, who was unsuccessful, in his profession, met diogenes, the cynic, as we are told, by diog. laertius, in vita, lib. vi. p. , and told him, that he had given up wrestling, and taken to physic--"_well done_," said the philosopher, "_now thou wilt be able to throw those, who have thrown thee_." the revolutions, which took place, in the practice of the healing art, previously to the period, when pliny composed his natural history, are certainly remarkable. chrysippus, as far as he was able, overthrew the system of hippocrates; erasistratus overthrew the system of chrysippus; the empirics, or experimentalists, overthrew, to the best of their ability, the system of erasistratus; herophilus did the very same thing, for the empirics; asclepiades turned the tables, upon herophilus; vexius valens next came into vogue, as the leader of a sect; then thessalus, in nero's age, opposed all previous systems; the system of thessalus was overthrown by crinas of marseilles; and so on, to the end of the chapter--which chapter, by the way, somewhat resembles the first chapter of matthew, substituting the word _overthrew_ for the word _begat_. water doctors certainly existed, in those ancient days. after crinas, says pliny, cap. , of the same book, there came along one--_damnatis non solum prioribus medicis, verum, et balineis; frigidaque etiam hibernis algoribus lavari persuasit. mergit ægros in lacus. videbamus senes consulares usque in ostentationem rigentes. qua de re exstat etiam annæi senecæ stipulatio. nec dubium est omnes istos famam novitate aliqua aucupantes anima statim nostra negotiari._ condemning not only all former physicians, but the baths, then in use, he persuaded his patients to use cold water, during the rigors of winter. he plunged sick folks in ponds. we have seen certain aged, consular gentlemen, freezing themselves, from sheer ostentation. we have the personal statement of annæus seneca, in proof of this practice. nor can it be doubted, that those quacks, greedily seeking fame, by the production of some novelty, would readily bargain away any man's life, for lucre. the statement of seneca, to which pliny refers, may be found in seneca's letters, , and , both to lucilius; in which he tells his friend, that, according to his old usage, he bathed in the eurypus, upon the kalends of january. it would be easy to fill a volume, with the railings of such peevish philosophers, as michael de montaigne, against all sorts of physic and physicians. we are very apt to treat doctors and deities, in the same way--to scoff at them, in health, and fly to them, in sickness. that was a pertinent question of cicero's, lib. i. de divinatione, . _an medicina, ars non putanda est, quam tamen multa fallunt? * * * num imperatorum scientia nihil est, quia summus imperator nuper fugit, amisso exercitu? aut num propterea nulla est reipublicæ gerendæ ratio atque, prudentia, quia multa cn. pompeium, quædam catonem, nonnulla etiam te ipsum fe fellerunt?_ as to medicine shall it be accounted not an art, because of the great uncertainty therein? what, then, is there no such thing as military skill, because a great commander lately fled, and lost his army? can there be no such thing as a wise and prudent government, because pompey has been often mistaken, even cato sometimes, and yourself, now and then? if much more than all, that has been proclaimed, were true, in regard to the uncertainty of the healing art, still the practice of seeking some kind of counsel and assistance, whenever a screw gets loose, in our tabernacle of the flesh, is not likely to go out of fashion. what shall we do? follow the tetotum doctor, and swallow a purge, if p. come uppermost? this is good evidence of our faith, in the doctrine of uncertainty. or shall we go for the doctor, who works the cheapest? there is no reason, why we should not cheapen our physic, if we cheapen our salvation; for pack horses of all sorts, lay and clerical, are accounted the better workers, when they are rather low in flesh. or shall we follow the example of the mutual admiration society, and get up a mutual physicking association? most men are pathologists, by intuition. i have been perfectly astonished to find how many persons, especially females and root doctors, know just what ails their neighbors, upon the very first hint of their being out of order, without even seeing them. it is a curious fact, that, while men of honor, thoroughly educated, and who have devoted their whole lives, to the study and practice of the healing art, candidly admit its uncertainty, the ignorant and unprincipled of the earth alone, who have impudently resorted to the vocation, suddenly, and as an antidote to absolute starvation, boast of their infallibility, and deal in nothing, but panaceas. the fools, in this pleasant world, are such a respectable and wealthy minority, that the charlatan will not cease from among us, until the last of mortals shall have put on immortality: and then, like the fellow, who entered charon's boat, with his commodities, he will try to smuggle some of his patent medicines, or _leetil doshes_, into the other world. a curious illustration of the popular notion, that no man is guilty of any presumptuous sin, merely because, after lying down, at night, a notorious _pedler_ or _tinker_, he rises, in the morning, a _physician_, may be found, in the fact, that a watchmaker, who would laugh at a tailor, should he offer to repair a timekeeper, will readily confide in him, as a physician, for himself, his wife, or his child. the most delicate female will sometimes submit her person, to the rubbings and manipulations of a blacksmith, in preference to following the prescriptions of a regular physician. a respectable citizen, with a pimple on the end of his nose, resembling, upon the testimony of a dozen old ladies, in the neighborhood, the identical cancer, of which every one of them was cured, by the famous indian doctress, in puzzlepot alley, will, now and then, give his confidence to a lying, ignorant, half-drunken squaw, rather than to the most experienced member of the medical profession. suffer me to close this imperfect sketch, with the words of lord bacon, vol. i. page , lond. . "we see the weakness and credulity of men is such, as they will often prefer a mountebank or witch, before a learned physician. and therefore the poets were clear-sighted, in discerning this extreme folly, when they made Æsculapius and circe brother and sister. for, in all times, in the opinion of the multitude, witches, and old women, and impostors have had a competition with physicians. and what followeth? even this, that physicians say, to themselves, as solomon expresseth it, upon a higher occasion, _if it befall to me, as befalleth to the fools, why should i labor to be more wise?_" no. cxi. van butchell, the fistula-doctor, in london, some forty years ago, had a white horse, and he painted the animal, with many colored spots. he also wore an enormous beard. these tricks were useful, in attracting notice. in the harleian miscellany, vol. viii. page , lond. , there is a clever article on quackery, published in , from which i will extract a passage or two, for the benefit of the fraternity: "any sexton will furnish you with a skull, in hope of your custom; over which hang up the skeleton of a monkey, to proclaim your skill in anatomy. let your table be never without some old musty greek or arabic author, and the fourth book of cornelius agrippa's occult philosophy, wide open, with half a dozen gilt shillings, as so many guineas, received, that morning for fees. fail not to oblige neighboring ale-houses to recommend you to inquirers; and hold correspondence with all the nurses and midwives near you, to applaud your skill at gossippings. the admiring patient shall cry you up for a scholar, provided always your nonsense be fluent, and mixed with a disparagement of the college, graduated doctors, and book-learned physicians. pretend to the cure of all diseases, especially those, that are incurable." there are gentlemen of the medical and surgical professions, whose high reputation, for science and skill, is perfectly established, and who have humanely associated their honorable names with certain benevolent societies. such is the fact, in regard to dr. john collins warren, who, by his adoption of the broad ground of total abstinence from all intoxicating liquors, as a beverage, by men in health, and by his consistent practice and example, has become entitled to the grateful respect of every well-wisher of the temperance cause. to the best of my ability, i have long endeavored to do, for the sextons, the very thing, which that distinguished man would accomplish for the doctors, and other classes. never did mortal more certainly oppose his own interest, than a physician, or a sexton, who advocates the temperance reform. there are, however, personages, in the medical profession, regulars, as well as volunteers, who cling to certain societies, with the paralyzing grasp of death--holding on to their very skirts, as boys cling behind our vehicles, _to get a cast_. the patronage and advocacy of some of these individuals are absolutely fatal. it may be surely affirmed of more than one of their number, _nihil tetigit quod non damnavit_. i have long been satisfied, that, without a great increase of societies, it will be utterly impossible to satisfy the innumerable aspirants, for the offices of president, vice president, &c., in our ambitious community. a sagacious, medical friend of mine, whose whole heart is devoted to the public service, and i am sorry to say it, to the injury of his wife and children, has handed me a list of several societies, for the want of which, he assures me, the citizens of boston are actually suffering, at the present moment. for myself, i cannot pretend to judge of such matters. a publication of the list may interest the benevolent, and, possibly, promote the cause of humanity. i give it entire:-- a society, for soothing the feelings and relieving the apprehensions of criminals, especially midnight assassins. a mutual relief society, in case of flatulent colic. a society, for the diffusion of buttermilk, with funds to enable the visiting committee to place a full jug, in the hands of every man, woman and child, in the united states, upon the first monday of every month. a friendly cockroach-trap society. a society, composed exclusively of medical men, without practice, for the destruction of sowbugs and pismires, throughout the commonwealth. a society, for the promotion of domestic happiness, with power to send for persons and papers. a society, for elevating the standard of education, by introducing trigonometry into infant schools. an association, for the gratuitous administration, to the poorer classes, by steam power, of anodyne clysters. let us return to the faculty. i am in favor of some peculiarity, in the dress and equipage of medical men. with the exception of certain stated hours, they cannot be found at home; and the case may be one of emergency. van butchell's spotted horse was readily distinguished, from charing cross to temple bar. this was very convenient for those, who were in quest of that remarkable leech. a small mast, abaft the vehicle, whether sulky, buggy, chariot, or phaeton, bearing the owner's private signal, would afford great public accommodation. there is nothing more nautical in such an arrangement, than in the use of the _killeck_, or small anchor, which many of the faculty regularly cast, when they are about to board a patient, and as regularly weigh, when they are about to take a new departure. the bright yellow chariot of dr. benjamin rush was universally known in philadelphia, and its environs; and his peculiar features are not likely to escape from the memory of any man, who ever beheld them. these striking points were seized, by that arch villain, cobbett, when he published his pictured libel, representing that eminent physician, looking out of his chariot window, with a label, proceeding from his mouth--_bleed and purge all kensington!_ upon cobbett's trial for this libel, dr. rush swore, that, by making him ridiculous, it had seriously affected his practice. dr. james lloyd was easily discovered, by his large bay horse--take him for all in all--the finest harness gelding of his day, in boston. with the eyes of a swedenborgian, i see the good, old doctor now; and i hear the tramp of those highly polished, white topped boots; and i almost feel the lash of his horsewhip, around my boyish legs, rather too harshly administered, for mild practice however--but he was an able physician, and a gentleman--_factus ad unguem_. his remarkable courtliness of manner, arose, doubtless, in some degree, from his relation to the nobility. during the siege, general howe and lord percy were his intimate friends; the latter was his tenant in , occupying the vassal estate, for which dr. lloyd was the agent, and which afterwards became the residence of the late gardner greene. dr. danforth, who resided, in , near the residence of dr. lloyd, on pemberton's hill, nearly opposite concert hall, and, subsequently, in green street, might be recognized, by the broad top of his chaise, and the unvarying moderation of the pace, at which he drove. he was tall and thin. his features were perfectly brunonian. there seemed to be nothing antiphlogistic about him. when pleased, he was very gentlemanly, in his manner and carriage. he ever placed himself, with remarkable exactitude, in the very centre of his vehicle, bolt upright; and, with his stern expression, wrinkled features, remarkably aquiline nose, prominent chin, and broad-brimmed hat, appeared, even some fifty years ago, like a remnant of a by-gone age. he had been a royalist. his manners were occasionally rough and overbearing. i remember to have told my mother, when a boy, that i should not like to take dr. danforth's physic. the character of his practice is, doubtless, well remembered, by those, who have taken his _divers_, as they were called, and lived to tell of it. the late dr. benjamin waterhouse being interrogated, by some aged spinsters, as to the difference, between the practice of dr. danforth and his opponents, replied, that there were two ways of putting a disordered clock in tolerable condition--the first, by taking it apart, cleaning its various members of their dust and dirt, applying a little oil to the pivots, and attaching no other than its former weight; "and then," said he, "it will go very well, for a considerable time; and this we call the anti-brunonian system." the second method he described, as follows: "you are to take no pains about examining the parts; let the dust and dirt remain, by all means; apply no oil to the pivots; but hitch on three or four times the original weight, and you will be able to drag it along, after a fashion; and this is the brunonian system." in this, the reader will recognize one of the pleasantries of dr. waterhouse, rather than an impartial illustration. dr. isaac rand, the son of dr. isaac rand, of charlestown, lived, in , some sixty years ago, in middle street, just below cross: in after years, he resided, till his death, in , in atkinson street. he was a pupil of dr. lloyd. his liberalities to the poor became a proverb. the chaise, in which he practised, in his latter days, was a notable object. the width of it, though not equal to that of solomon's temple, was several cubits. it became the property of the late sheriff badlam, who filled it to admiration. the mantle of elijah was not a closer fit, upon the shoulders of elisha. dr. rand was an able physician, and a truly good man. he made rather a more liberal use of the learned terms of his profession, than was the practice of other physicians. with him, this arose from habit, and a desire to speak with accuracy, and not from affectation. charles austin was shot dead, in state street, by thomas o. selfridge, august , , in self-defence. dr. rand was a witness, at the trial; and his long and learned, professional terms, so completely confounded the stenographers, that they were obliged to beat the _chamade_, and humbly beg for plainer english. i have more to say of these interesting matters, but am too near the boundary wall of my paper, to enter upon their consideration, at present. no. cxii. in my last number, i referred to three eminent physicians, of the olden time, drs. lloyd, danforth, and rand. some sixty years ago, there were three and twenty physicians, in this city, exclusive of quacks. the residences of the three i have already stated. dr. james pecker resided, at the corner of hanover and friend street--thomas bulfinch, in bowdoin square--charles jarvis, in common street--lemuel hayward, opposite the sign of the white horse, in newbury street--thomas kast, in fish street, near the north square--david townsend, in southack's court--john warren, next door to cromwell's head, in south latin school street, then kept by joshua brackett--thomas welsh, in sudbury street, near concert hall--william eustis, in sudbury street, near the mill pond--john homans, no. marlborough street--john sprague, in federal street--nathaniel w. appleton, in south latin school street, near the stone chapel--joseph whipple, in orange street--aaron dexter, in milk street, opposite the lower end of the rope walks, that were burnt, in the great fire, july , --abijah cheever, in hanover street--william spooner, in cambridge street--john fleet, in milk street--amos winship, in hanover street--robert rogerson, in ship street--alexander a. peters, in marlborough street--john jeffries, who, in , went to halifax, with the british garrison, did not return and resume practice in boston, till . ten years after, in , the number had increased to twenty-nine, of whom nineteen were of the old guard of . in , the number had risen to forty-three, of whom eight only were of . in , the number was seventy-five, two only surviving of --drs. william spooner and thomas welsh. in , we had, in boston, one hundred and twenty-two physicians, surgeons, and dentists, and a population of , . there are now, in this physicky metropolis, according to the directory, for - , physicians, of all sorts, not including those for the soul, but doctors, surgeons, dentists, regulars and quacks, of all colors and both sexes, . three hundred and sixty-two: an increase of two hundred and forty, in eight years. this is certainly encouraging. if doctors are quite as many, as , athenians ought to bear, require about , patients, and such should be our population. let us arrange this formidable host. at the very _tete d'armee_, marching left in front, we have seven _female physicians_, preceded by an _indian doctress_--next in order, come the surgeon _dentists_, seventy in number--then the main body, to whom the publisher of the directory courteously and indiscriminately applies the title of _physicians_, two hundred and fifty-seven, rank and file;--seven and twenty _botanic doctors_ bring up the rear! how appropriate, in the hand of the very last of this enormous _cortege_, would be a banner, inscribed with those well known words--god save the commonwealth of massachusetts! i shall devote this paper to comparative statistics. in , with twenty-three physicians in boston, four less, than the present number of _botanic doctors_ alone, and three hundred and thirty-nine less, than the present number of regulars and pretenders, there were nine only of _our_ profession, regularly enrolled, as f. u., funeral undertakers, and placed upon a footing with the roman _designatores_, or _domini funerum_. there were several others, who bore to our profession the same relation, which bachelors of medicine bear to theirs, and who were entitled to subscribe themselves d. g., diggers of graves. yet in , the year, which i take, as a _point d'appui_ for my calculations, there were only twenty, enrolled as f. u., with medical operatives, busily at work, day and night, upon the insides and outsides of our fellow-citizens! here is matter for marvel! how was it done? did the dead bury the dead? i presume the solution lies, in the fact, that there existed an unrecorded number of those, who were d. g. only. there were few dentists, _eo nomine_, some sixty years ago. our ancestors appear to have gotten along pretty comfortably, in spite of their teeth. many of those, who practised the "_dental art_," had so little employment, that it became convenient to unite their dental practice, with some other occupation. thus john templeman, was a _broker and dentist_, at the northeast corner of the old state house. whitlock was, doubtless, frequently called out, from a rehearsal, at the play house, to pull a refractory grinder. isaac greenwood advertises, in the columbian sentinel of june , , not only his desire to wait upon all, who may require his services, at their houses, in the dental line; but a variety of umbrellas, canes, silk caps for bathing, dice, chess men, and cane for hoops and bonnets, by the dozen, or single stick. in the boston mercury of jan. , , w. p. greenwood combines, with his dental profession, the sale of piano-fortes and guitars. in , the registered dentists were three only, messrs. isaac and wm. p. greenwood, and josiah flagg. in , there were three only, wm. p. greenwood, thomas parsons, and thomas barnes. it would appear somewhat extravagant, perhaps, to state, that, including doctors of all sorts, there is a fraction more than two doctors to every one merchant, _eo nomine_, excluding commission merchants, of course, in the city of boston. such, nevertheless, appears to be the fact, unless mr. adams has made some important error, which i do not suspect, in his valuable directory, for - . it will not be utterly worthless, to contemplate the quartermaster's department of this portentous army; and compare it with the corresponding establishment of other times. in , there were fifteen druggists and apothecaries, in the town of boston. examples were exceedingly rare, in those days, of wholesale establishments, exclusively dealing in drugs and medicines. at present, we have, in this city, eighty-nine apothecaries, doing business, in as many different places--drugs and medicines are also sold, at wholesale, in forty-four establishments--there are fourteen special depots, for the sale of patent medicines, gordak's drugs, indian purgatives, holman's restorative, brandreth's pills, sherry wine bitters, and pectoral balsam, graefenberg's medicines, and many other kinds of nastiness--eighteen dealers exclusively in botanic medicines--ninety-seven nurses--twenty-eight undertakers--and eight warehouses for the sale of coffins! it is amusing, if nothing worse, to compare the relative increase, in the number of persons, who are, in various ways, employed about the sick, the dying, and the dead, in killing, or curing, or comforting, or burying, with the increase in some other crafts and callings. in , there were thirty-one bakers, in boston: there are now fifty-seven. the number has not doubled in sixty years. the number of doctors then, as i have stated, was twenty-three: now, charlatans included, it falls short, only six, of sixteen times that number. there were then sixty-seven tailors' shops; there are now one hundred and forty-eight such establishments. there were then thirty-six barbers, hair-dressers, and wig-makers: there are now ninety-one. there were then one hundred and five cabinet-makers and carpenters: there are now three hundred and fifty. this ratio of comparison will, by no means, hold, in some other callings. there were then nine auctioneers: there are now fifty-two. there were then seven brokers, of all sorts: there are now two hundred and ten. the source from which i draw my information, is the directory of , "printed and sold by john norman, at oliver's dock," and of which the writer speaks, in his preface, as "_this first attempt_." for want of sufficient designation, it is impossible, in this primitive work, to pick out the members of the legal profession. compared with the present fraternity, whose name is legion, they were very few. there are more than three hundred and fifty practitioners of the law, in this city. in this, as in the medical profession, there are, and ever will be, _ex necessitate rei_, infernal scoundrels, and highly intelligent and honorable men--blind guides and safe counsellors. not very long ago, a day of purification was appointed--some plan seemed to be excogitating, for the ventilation of the brotherhood. for once, they were gathered together, brothers, looking upon the features of brothers, and knowing them not. this was an occasion of mutual interest, and the arena was common ground--they came, some of them, doubtless, from strange quarters, lofty attics and lowly places-- "from all their dens the one-eyed race repair, from rifted rocks, and mountains high in air." when doctors, lawyers, and brokers are greatly upon the increase, it is very clear, that we are getting into the way of submitting our bodies and estates, to be frequently, and extensively, tinkered. i cannot doubt, that in , there were quacks, about town, who could not contrive to get their names inserted, in the same page, with the regular physicians. i cannot believe, however, that they bore any proportion to the unprincipled and ignorant impostors, at the present time. in the "massachusetts centinel," of sept. , , is the following advertisement--"_john pope, who, for eighteen years past, has been noted for curing cancers, schrophulous tumours, fetid and phagedenic ulcers, &c., has removed into a house, the north corner of orange and hollis street, south end, boston, where he proposes to open a school, for reading, writing, arithmetick, &c._" in there were twenty-two distillers of rum in boston: there are nine only, named in the directory of - . the increase of doctors and all the appliances of sickness and death have not probably arisen from the falling off, among distillers. in , there were about twenty innholders: there are now eighty-eight public houses, hotels, or taverns--ninety-two restaurants--thirty-five confectionery establishments--thirty-nine stores, under the caption of "liquors and wines"--sixty-nine places, for the sale of oysters, which are not always the _spiritless_ things they appear to be--one hundred and forty-three wholesale dealers, in west india goods and groceries--three hundred and seventy-three retailers of such articles: i speak not of those, who fall below the dignity of history; whose operations are entirely subterraneous; and whose entire stock in trade might be carried, in a wheelbarrow. we have also one hundred and fifty-two provision dealers. we live well in this city. it would be very pleasant, to walk over it, with old captain keayne, who died here, march , , and who left a sum of money to the town, to erect a granary or storehouse, for the poor, in case of famine! no. cxiii. the quack is commonly accounted a spurious leech--a false doctor--clinging, like a vicious barnacle, to the very bottom of the medical profession. but impostors exist, in every craft, calling, and profession, under the names of quacks, empirics, charmers, magicians, professors, sciolists, plagiaries, enchanters, charlatans, pretenders, judicial astrologers, quacksalvers, muffs, mountebanks, medicasters, barrators, cheats, puffs, champertors, cuckoos, diviners, jugglers, and verifiers of suggestions. butler, in his hudibras, says, of medical quacks, they seek out for plants, with signatures, to quack of universal cures. in the spectator, addison has this observation--"at the first appearance, that a french quack made in paris, a boy walked before him, publishing, with a shrill voice, '_my father cures all sorts of distempers_;' to which the doctor added, in a grave manner, '_what the boy says is true_.'" the imposture of james aymar, to which i have alluded, was of a different kind. aymar was an ignorant peasant of dauphiné. he finally confessed himself to be an impostor, before the prince of condè; and the whole affair is narrated, by the apothecary of the prince, in a _lettre à m. l'abbé, d. l., sur les veritables effets de la baguette de jaques aymar par p. buissiere; chez louis lucas, à paris, _. the power of this fellow's wand was not limited, to the discovery of hidden treasures, or springs of water; nor were his only dupes the lowly and the ignorant. as i have said, he was detected, and made a full confession, before the prince of condè. the magistrates published an official account of the imposture; yet such is the energy of the credulous principle, that m. vallemont, a man of note, published a treatise "_on the occult philosophy of the divining wand_;" in which he tries to show, that aymar, notwithstanding his mistakes, before the prince, was really possessed of all the wonderful power he claimed, of divining with his wand. the measure of this popular credulity will be better understood, after perusing the following translation of an extract from the _mercure historique_, for april, , page .--"the prior of the carthusians passed through villeneuve with aymar, to discover, by the aid of his wand, some landmarks, that were lost. just before, a foundling had been left on the steps of the monastery. aymar was employed, by the superior, to find out the father. followed by a great crowd, and guided by the indications of his wand, he went to the village of comaret, in the county of venaissin, and thence to a cottage, where he affirmed the child was born." bayle says, on the authority of another letter from m. buissiere, in , that aymar's apparent simplicity, and rustic dialect, and the rapid motion of his wand went far, to complete the delusion. he was also exceedingly devout, and never absent from mass, or confession. while he was at paris, and before his exposure, the pythoness, herself, would not have been more frequently, and zealously consulted, than was this crafty and ignorant boor, by the parisians. fees showered in from all quarters; and he was summoned, in all directions, to detect thieves; recover lost property; settle the question of genuine identity, among the relics of _prima facie_ saints, in different churches; and, in truth, no limit was set, by his innumerable dupes, to the power of his miraculous wand. "i myself," says m. buissiere, "saw a simple, young fellow, a silk weaver, who was engaged to a girl, give aymar a couple of crowns, to know if she were a virgin." joseph francis borri flourished, about the middle of the seventeenth century, and a most complicated scoundrel he was--heresiarch, traitor, alchymist, and empiric. he had spiritual revelations, of course. he was an intelligent and audacious liar, and converts came in apace. at his suggestion, his followers took upon themselves an oath of poverty, and placed all they possessed in the hands of borri, who told them he would take care it should never again interfere with their devotions, but would be spent in prayers and masses, for their ulcerated souls. the bloodhounds of the inquisition were soon upon his track, at the moment he was about to raise the standard of insurrection in milan. he fled to amsterdam--made capital of his persecution by the inquisition; and won the reputation of a great chemist, and wonderful physician. he then went to hamburg, and persuaded queen christina, to advance him a large sum of money, to be reimbursed, from the avails of the philosopher's stone, which borri was to discover. this trick was clearly worth repeating. so thought borri; and he tried it, with still better success, on his majesty of denmark. still the stone remained undiscovered; and the thought occurred to signor borri, that it might not be amiss, to look for it, in turkey. he accordingly removed; but was arrested at vienna, by the pope's agents; and consigned to the prisons of the inquisition, for life. his fame, however, had become so omnipotent, that, upon the earnest application of the duke d'etrée, he was let loose, to prescribe for that nobleman, whom the regular physicians had given over. the duke got well, and the world gave borri the credit of the cure. when a poor suffering mortal is given over, in other words, _let alone_, by half a dozen doctors--i am speaking now of the regulars, not less than of the volunteers--he, occasionally, gets well. a wit replied to a french physician, who was marvelling how a certain abbé came to die, since he himself and three other physicians were unremitting, in their attentions--"_my dear doctor, how could the poor abbé sustain himself, against you all four?_" the doctors do much as they did of old. pliny, lib. xxix. , says, of consultations--"_hinc illæ circa ægros miseræ sententiarum concertationes, nullo idem censente ne videatur accessio alterius. hinc illa infelicis monumenti inscriptio_, turba se medicorum periisse." hence those contemptible consultations, round the beds of the sick--no one assenting to the opinion of another, lest he should be deemed his subaltern. hence the monumental inscription, over the poor fellow, who was destroyed in this way--killed by a mob of doctors! who has not seen a fire rekindle, _sua sponte_, after the officious bellows have, apparently, extinguished the last spark? so, now and then, the vital spark, stimulated by the _vis medicatrix naturæ_ will rekindle into life and action, after having been well nigh smothered, by all sorts of complicated efforts to restore it. this is the _punctum instans_, the very nick of time, for the charlatan: in he comes, looking insufferably wise, and brim full of sympathetic indignation. all has been done wrong, of course. while he affects to be doing everything, he does exactly nothing--stirs up an invisible, impalpable, infinitessimal, incomprehensible particle, in a little water, which the patient can neither see, feel, taste, nor smell. down it goes. the patient's faith, as to the size of it, rather resembles a cocoanut than a grain of mustard seed. his confidence in the _new_ doctor is as gigantic, and as blind, as polyphemus, after he had been _gouged_, by him of ithaca. he plants his galvanic grasp, upon the wrist of the little doctor, much in the manner of a drowning man, clutching at a full grown straw. he is absolutely better already. the wife and the little ones look upon the mountebank, as their preserver from widowhood and orphanage. "_dere ish noting_," he says, "_like de leetil doshes_;" and he takes his leave, regretting, as he closes the door, that his sleeve is not large enough, to hold the sum total of his laughter. yet some of these quacks become _honest men_; and, however surprised at the result, they are finally unable, to resist the force of the popular outcry, in their own favor. they almost forget their days of duplicity, and small things--they arrive, somehow or other, at the conclusion, that, however unexpectedly, they are great men, and their wild tactics a system. they use longer words, move into larger houses, and talk of first principles: and all the practice of a neighborhood finally falls into the hands of dr. ninkempaup or dr. pauketpeeker. francis joseph borri died, in prison, in . sorbiere in his _voiage en angleterre_, page , describes him thus--"he is a cunning blade; a lusty, dark-complexioned, good-looking fellow, well dressed, and lives at considerable expense, though not at such a rate, as some suppose; for eight or ten thousand livres will go a great way at amsterdam. but a house, worth , crowns, in a fine location, five or six footmen, a french suit of clothes, a treat or two to the ladies, the occasional refusal of fees, five or six rix dollars distributed, at the proper time and place among the poor, a spice of insolence in discourse, and sundry other artifices have made some credulous persons say, that he gave away handfulls of diamonds, that he had discovered the philosophers stone, and the universal medicine." when he was in amsterdam, he appeared in a splendid equipage, was accosted, by the title of "_your excellence_," and they talked of marrying him to one of the greatest fortunes. i have no taste for unsocial pleasures. will the reader go with me to franklin place--let us take our station near no. , and turn our eyes to the opposite side--let us put back the hand of the world's timekeeper, some thirty years. a showy chariot, very peculiar, very yellow, and abundantly supplied with glass, with two tall bay horses, gaudily harnessed, is driven to the door of the mansion, by a coachman, in livery; and there it stands; till, after the expiration of an hour, perhaps, the house door is flung open, and there appears, upon the steps, a tall, dark visaged, portly personage, in black, who, looking slowly up and down the avenue, proceeds, with great deliberation, to draw on his yellow, buckskin gloves. rings glitter upon his fingers; seals, keys, and safety chain, upon his person. his beaver, of an unusual form, is exquisitely glossy, surpassed, by nothing but the polish of his tall suwarrows, surmounted with black, silk tassels. he descends to the vehicle--the door is opened, with a bow of profound reverence, which is scarcely acknowledged, and in he gets, the very fac simile of a spanish grandee. the chariot moves off, so very slowly, that we can easily follow it, on foot--on it goes, up franklin, and down washington, up court, into tremont, down school, into washington, along washington, up winter, and through park to beacon street, where it halts, before the mansion of some respectable citizen. the occupant alights, and, leaving his chariot there, proceeds, through obscure and winding ways, to visit his patients, on foot, in the purlieus of _la montagne_. this was no other than the celebrated patentee of the famous bug liquid; who was forever putting the community on its guard, by admonishing the pill-taking public, that they _could not be too particular_, for _none were genuine, unless signed w. t. conway_. no. cxiv. charity began at home--i speak of charity shaw, the famous root and herb doctress, who was a great blessing to all undertakers, in this city, for many years--her practice was, at first, purely domestic--she began at home, in her own household; and, had she ended there, it had fared better, doubtless, with many, who have received the final attentions of our craft. the mischief of quackery is negative, as well as positive. charity could not be fairly classed with those reckless empirics, who, rather than lose the sale of a nostrum, will send you directly to the devil, for a dollar: charity was kind, though she vaunted herself a little in the newspapers. she was, now and then, rather severely handled, but she bore all things, and endured all things, and hoped all things; for, to do her justice, she was desirous, that her patients should recover: and, if she believed not all things, her patients did; and therein consisted the negative mischief--in that stupid credulity, which led them to follow this poor, ignorant, old woman, and thus prevented them, from applying for relief, where, if anywhere, in this uncertain world, it may be found--at the fountains of knowledge and experience. in charity's day, there were several root and herb practitioners; but the greatest of these was charity. herb doctors have, for some two thousand years, attempted to turn back the tables, upon the faculty--they are a species of _garde mobile_, who have an old grudge against the _corps regulier_: for they have not forgotten, that, some two thousand years ago, herb doctors had all things pretty much in their own way. two entire books, the twenty-sixth and twenty-seventh of pliny's natural history, are devoted to a consideration of the medicinal properties of herbs--the twentieth treats of the medicinal properties of vegetables--the twenty-third and twenty-fourth of the medicinal properties of roots and barks. thus, we see, of what importance these simples were accounted, in the healing art, in that early age. herbs, barks, and roots were, and, for ages, had been, the principal _materia medica_, and were employed, by the different sects--by the rationalists, of whom pliny, lib. xxvi. cap. , considers herophilus the head, though this honor is ascribed, by galen, to hippocrates--the empirics, or experimentalists--and the methodics, who avoided all actions, for _mala praxis_, by adhering to the rules. pliny manifestly inclined to herb doctoring. in the chapter, just now referred to, after alluding to the _verba, garrulitatemque_ of certain lecturers, he intimates, that they and their pupils had an easy time of it--_sedere namque his in scholis auditioni operatos gratius erat, quam ire in solitudines, et quoerere herbas alias aliis diebus anni_--for it was pleasanter to sit, listening in the lecture-rooms, than to run about in the fields and woods, culling certain simples, on certain days in the year. herb doctors were destined to be overthrown; and the account, given by pliny, in chapters , and , book xxvi. of the sudden and complete revolution, in the practice of the healing art, is curious and interesting. asclepiades, of prusa, in bythinia, came to rome, in the time of pompey the great, about one hundred years before christ, to teach rhetoric; and, like an impudent hussy, who came to this city, as a cook, from vermont, some years ago, and, not succeeding, in that capacity, but hearing, that wet nurses obtained high wages here, prepared herself, for that lucrative occupation--so asclepiades, not succeeding, as a rhetorician, prepared himself for a doctor. he was ignorant of the whole matter; but a man of genius; and, as he knew nothing of root and herb practice, he determined to cut up the whole system root and branch, and substitute one of his own--_torrenti ac meditata quotidie oratione blandiens omnia abdicavit: totamque medicinam ad causam revocando, conjecturæ fecit_. by the power of his forcible and preconcerted orations, pronounced from day to day, in a smooth and persuasive manner, he overthrew the whole; and, bringing back the science of medicine to cause and effect, he constructed a system of inference or conjecture. pliny is not disposed to be altogether pleased with asclepiades, though he recounts his merits fairly. he says of him--_id solum possumus indignari, unum hominem, e levissima gente, sine ullis opibus orsum, vectigalis sua causa, repente leges salutis humano genere dedisse, quas tamen postea abrogavere multi_--at least, we may feel rather indignant, that one, born among a people, remarkable for their levity, born also in poverty, toiling for his daily support, should thus suddenly lay down, for the human race, the laws of health, which, nevertheless, many rejected afterwards. now it seems to me, that asclepiades was a very clever fellow; and i think, upon pliny's own showing, there was more reason, for indignation, against a people, who had so long tolerated the marvellous absurdities of the herb system, such as it then was, than against a man, who had the good sense to perceive, and the courage and perseverance to explode, them. what there was in the poverty of asclepiades, or in the character of his countrymen, to rouse pliny's indignation, i cannot conceive. pliny says, lib. xxvi. cap. , after naming several things, which promoted this great change, in the practice of physic--_super omnia adjuvere eum magicæ vanitates, in tantum erectæ, ut abrogare herbis fidem cunctis possent_. he was especially assisted in his efforts, by the excesses, to which the magical absurdities had been carried, in respect to herbs, so that they alone were enough to destroy all confidence, in such things. pliny proceeds to narrate some of these magical absurdities--the plant Æthiops, thrown into lakes and rivers, would dry them up--the touch of it would open everything, that was shut. the achæmenis, cast among the enemy, would cause immediate flight. the latace would ensure plenty. josephus also, de bell, ind. lib. vii. cap. --speaks of an excellent root for driving out devils. pliny says, asclepiades laid down five important particulars--_abstinentiam cibi_, _alias vini_, _fricationem corporis_, _ambulationem_, _gestationes_--abstinence from meat, and, at other times, from wine, friction of the body, walking, and various kinds of gestation, on horseback, and otherwise. there were some things, in the old practice, _nimis anxia et rudia_, too troublesome and coarse, whose rejection favored the new doctor greatly, _obruendi agros veste sudoresque omni modo ciendi; nunc corpora ad ignes torrendi_, etc.--smothering the sick in blankets, and exciting perspiration, by all possible means--roasting them before fires, &c. like every other ingenious physician, he had something pleasant, of his own contriving, to propose--_tum primum pensili balinearum usu ad infinitum blandientem_--then first came up the employment of hanging baths, to the infinite delight of the public. these hanging baths, which pliny says, lib. ix. , were really the invention of sergius orata, were rather supported than suspended--fires were kindled below--there were different _ahena_, or caldrons, the _caldarium_, and _frigidarium_. the _corrivatio_ was simply the running together of the cold and hot water. annexed was the _laconicum_, or sweating room. the curious reader may compare the roman baths with those at constantinople, described by miss pardoe. _alia quoque blandimenta_, says pliny, _excogitabat, jam suspendendo lectulos, quorum jactatu aut morbos extenuaret, aut somnos alliceret_. he excogitated other delights, such as suspended beds, whose motion soothed the patient, or put him to sleep. the principle here seems pretty universal, lying at the bottom of all those simple contrivances, rocking-chairs, cribs, and cradles, swings, hammocks, &c. this is truly indian practice-- rock-a-bye baby upon the tree top, and, when the wind blows, the cradle will rock. _præterea in quibusdam morbis medendi cruciatus detraxit, ut in anginis quas curabant in fauces organo demisso. damnavit merito et vomitiones, tunc supra modum frequentes._ he also greatly diminished the severity of former practice, in certain diseases, in quinsies for example, which they used to cure, with an instrument, introduced into the fauces. he very properly condemned those vomitings, then frequent, beyond all account. this refers to the roman usage, which is almost incomprehensible by us. celsus, de med. lib. i. , refers to it, as the practice _eorum, qui quotidie ejiciendo, vorandi facultatem moliuntur_--of those, who, by vomiting daily, acquired the faculty of gormandizing. suetonius says of the imperial brute, vitellius, sec. xiii. that he regularly dined, at three places daily, _facile omnibus sufficiens, vomitandi consuetudine_--easily enabled to do so, by his custom of vomiting. pliny's reflection, upon the success of the new doctor, is very natural--_quæ quum unusquisque semetipsum sibi præstare posse intelligeret, faventibus cunctis, ut essent vera quæ facillima erant, universum prope humanum genus circumegit in se, non alio modo quam si coelo emissus advenisset_. when every one saw, that he could apply the rules for himself, all agreeing that things, which were so very simple, must certainly be true, he gathered all mankind around him, precisely as though he had been one, sent from heaven. in the following passage, pliny employs the word, _artificium_, in an oblique sense. _trahebat præterea mentes artifcio mirabili, vinum promittendo ægris._ he attracted men's minds, by the remarkable _artifice_ of allowing wine to the sick. during the temperance movement, some eminent physicians have asserted, that wine was unnecessary, in every case--others have extended their practice, and increased their popularity, by making their patients as comfortable, as possible--_while they continued in the flesh_. a german, who had been very intemperate, joined a total abstinence society, by the advice of a temperance physician. in a little time the _tormina_ of his stomach became unbearable. instead of calling his temperance physician, who would, probably, have eased the irritation, with a little wormwood, or opium, he sent for the popular doctor, who told him, at once, that he wanted brandy--"how much may i take?" inquired the german. "an ounce, during the forenoon;" replied the doctor. after he had gone, the german said to his son, "harman, go, get de measure pook, and zee how mooch be won ounz." the boy brought the book, and read aloud, eight drachms make one ounce--the patient sprang half out of bed; and, rubbing his hands, exclaimed--"dat ish de toctor vor me; i never took more nor voor trams in a morning, in all my porn days--dat ish de trouble--i zee it now." no. cxv. miss bungs is dead. it is well to state this fact, lest i should be suspected of some covert allusion to the living. she firmly believed in the xxxix. articles, and in a fortieth--namely--that man is a fortune-hunter, from his cradle. she often declared, that, sooner than wed a fortune-hunter, she would die a cruel death--she would die a maid--she did so, in the full possession of her senses, to the last. her entire estate, consisting of sundry shares, in fancy stocks, two parrots, a monkey, a silver snuff-box, and her paraphernalia, she directed to be sold; and the avails employed, for the promotion of celibacy, among the heathen. yet it was the opinion of those, who knew her intimately, that miss bungs was, at heart, sufficiently disposed to enter into the holy state of matrimony, could she have found one pure, disinterested spirit; but, unfortunately, she was fully persuaded, that every man, who smiled upon her, and inquired after her health, was "_after her money_." miss bungs was not unwilling to encourage the impression, that she was an object of particular regard, in certain quarters; and, if a gentleman picked up her glove, or escorted her across a gutter, she was in the habit of instituting particular inquiries, among her acquaintances--in strict confidence of course--in regard to his moral character--ejaculating with a sigh, that men were so mercenary now-a-days, it was difficult to know who could be trusted. now, this was very wrong, in miss bungs. by the english law, if a man or a woman pretends, falsely, that he or she is married to any person, that person may libel, in the spiritual court, and obtain an injunction of silence; and this offence, in the language of the law, is called _jactitation of marriage_. i can see no reason why an injunction in cases of _jactitation of courtship_, should not be allowed; for serious evils may frequently arise, from such unauthorized pretences. after grave reflection, i am of opinion, that miss bungs carried her opposition to fortune-hunters, beyond the bounds of reason. let us define our terms. the party, who marries, only for money, intending, from the very commencement, to make use of it, for the selfish gratification of vain, or vicious, propensities--is a fortune-hunter of the very worst kind. but let us not forget, as we go along, that this field is occupied by huntresses, as well as by hunters; and that, upon such voyages of discovery, the cap may be set, as effectually, as the compass. there is another class, with whom the degree of personal attachment, which really exists, is too feeble, to resist the combined influence of selfishness and pride. such also, i suppose, may be placed in the category of fortune-hunters. we find an illustration of this, in the case of mr. mewins. after a liberal arrangement had been made, for the young lady, by her father; mr. mewins, having taken a particular fancy to a little, brown mare, demanded, that it should be thrown into the bargain; and, upon a positive refusal, the match was broken off. after a couple of years, the parties accidentally met, at a country ball--mr. mewins was quite willing to renew the engagement--the lady appeared not to have the slightest recollection of him. "surely you have not forgotten me," said he--"what name, sir?" she inquired--"mewins," he replied; "i had the honor of paying my addresses to you, about two years ago."--"i remember a person of that name," she rejoined, "who paid his addresses to my father's brown mare." in matrimony, wealth is, of course, a very comforting accessory. it renders an agreeable partner still more so--and it often goes, not a little way, to balance an unequal bargain. time and talent may as wisely be wasted, in pursuit of the philosopher's stone, as of an unmixed good or evil, on this side the grave. temper may be mistaken, or it may change; beauty may fade; but £ , , well managed, will enable the _happy man or woman_, to bear up, with tolerable complacency, under the severest trials of domestic life. what a blessed thing it is, to fall back upon, when one is compelled to mourn, over the infirmities of the living, or the absence, of the dead! what a solace! it was therefore wrong, in miss bungs, to designate, as fortune-hunters, those, of either sex, who have come to the rational conclusion, that money is essential to the happiness of married life. no man or woman of common sense, who is poor, will, now-a-days, commit the indiscretion of _falling in love_, unless with some person of ample possessions. what, then, is to become of the penniless, and the unpretty! we must adopt the custom of the ancient babylonians, introduced about b. c., by atossa, the daughter of belochus. at a certain season of the year, the most lovely damsels were assembled, and put up, singly, at auction, to be purchased, by the _highest_ bidder. the wealthy swains of babylon poured forth their wealth, like water; and rivals settled the question, not by the length of their rapiers, but of their purses. the money, thus obtained, became the dowry of those, whose personal attractions were not likely to obtain them husbands. they also were put up, and sold to the _lowest_ bidder, as the poor were formerly disposed of, in our villages. every unattractive maiden, young, old, and of no particular age, was put up, at a _maximum_, and bestowed on him, who would take her, with the smallest amount of dowry. it is quite possible, that certain lots may have been withdrawn. i rather prefer this practice to that of the spartans, which prevailed, about b. c. at an appointed time, the marriageable damsels were collected, in a hall, perfectly dark; and the young men were sent into the apartment; walking, evidently, neither by faith nor by sight, but, literally, feeling their way, and thus selected their helpmates. this is in perfect keeping with the principle, that love is blind. the ancient greeks lived, and multiplied, without marriage. eusebius, in the preface to his chronicon, states, that marriage ceremonies were first introduced among them, by cecrops, about b. c. the athenians provided by law, that no unmarried man should be entrusted with public affairs, and the lacedemomans passed severe laws against those, who unreasonably deferred their marriage. it is not easy to reconcile the general policy of promoting marriages, with the statute, william iii., , by which they were taxed; as they were again, in . the earliest celebration of marriages, in churches, was ordained by pope innocent iii., a. d. . marriages were forbidden in lent, a. d. , conforming, perhaps, to the rule of abstinence from flesh. fortune-hunting has not always been unaccompanied with violence. stealing an heiress was made felony, by henry vii. , and benefit of clergy denied, in such cases, by eliz. . in the first year of george iv. , this offence was made punishable by transportation. in the reign of william iii., captain campbell forcibly married miss wharton, an heiress. the marriage was annulled, by act of parliament, and sir john johnston was hanged, for abetting. in , two brothers and a sister, edward, william, and frances wakefield, were tried and convicted, for the felonious abduction of miss turner, an heiress, whose marriage with edward wakefield was annulled, by act of parliament. no species of fortune-hunter appears so entirely contemptible, as the wretch, who marries for money, intending to employ it, not for the joint comfort of the parties, but for the payment of his own arrearages; and who resorts to the expedient of marriage, not to obtain a wife, but to avoid a jail. and the exultation is pretty universal, when such a vagabond falls, himself, into the snare, which he had so deliberately prepared, for another. in the fifth volume of the diary of samuel pepys, pages , and , lord braybrooke has recorded three letters to pepys, from an extraordinary scoundrel of this description. the first letter from this man, sir samuel morland, who seems to have had some employment in the navy, bears date "saturday, february, - ." after communicating certain information, respecting naval affairs, he proceeds, as follows:-- "i would have wayted on you with this account myself, but i presume you have, ere this time, heard what an unfortunate and fatall accident has lately befallen me, of which i shall give you an abreviat." "about three weeks or a month since, being in very great perplexities, and almost distracted for want of moneys, my private creditors tormenting me from morning to night, and some of them threatening me with a prison, and having no positive answer from his majesty, about the £ which the late lord treasurer cutt off from my pension so severely, which left a debt upon me, which i was utterly unable to pay, there came a certain person to me, whom i had relieved in a starving condition, and for whom i had done a thousand kindnesses; who pretended, in gratitude to help me to a wife, who was a very vertuous, pious, and sweet disposition'd lady, and an heiress, who had £ per ann. in land and inheritance, and £ in ready money, with the interest since nine years, besides a mortgage upon £ per ann. more, with plate, jewels, &c. the devil himself could not contrive more probable circumstances than were layd before me; and when i had often a mind to enquire into the truth, i had no power, believing for certain reasons, that there were certain charms or witchcraft used upon me; and, withall, believing it utterly impossible that a person so obliged should ever be guilty of so black a deed as to betray me in so barbarous a manner. besides that, i really believ'd it a blessing from heaven for my charity to that person: and i was, about a fortnight since, led as a fool to the stocks, and married a coachman's daughter not worth a shilling, and one who, about nine months since, was brought to bed of a bastard; and thus i am both absolutely ruined, in my fortune and reputation, and must become a derision to all the world." "my case is at present in the spiritual court, and i presume, that one word from his majesty to his proctor, and advocate, and judge, would procure me speedy justice; if either our old acquaintance or christian pity move you, i beg you to put in a kind word for me, and to deliver the enclosed into the king's own hands, with all convenient speed; for a criminal bound and going to execution is not in greater agonies than has been my poor, active soul since this befell me: and i earnestly beg you to leave in three lines for me with your porter, what answer the king gives you, and my man shall call for it. a flood of tears blind my eyes, and i can write no more, but that i am your most humble and poor distressed servant, s. morland." all that befell sir samuel and _lady_ morland, after his application to pepys and the king, will be found fully set forth, by this prince of fortune-hunters, in the two remaining letters to which i have referred, and which i purpose to lay before the reader in the ensuing number. no. cxvi. the reader will remember, that we left sir samuel morland, in deep distress, his eyes, to use his own words, in the letter to pepys, _blinded by a flood of tears_. of all fortune-hunters he was the most unfortunate, who have recorded, with their own hands, the history of their own most wretched adventures. instead of marrying a "_vertuous, pious, and sweet disposition'd lady, with £ per ann. in land, and £ in ready money, with plate, jewels, &c._," he found himself in silken bonds, with a coachman's daughter, "not worth a shilling," who, nine months before, had been introduced to a new code of sensations, by giving birth to a child, whose father was of that problematical species, which the law terms _putative_. i have promised to lay before the reader two additional letters, from sir samuel morland, to pepys, on the subject of his difficulties with lady morland. here they are: the first will be found, in pepys' diary, vol. v. page . " may, . sir: being of late unable to go abroad, by reason of my lame hip"--no wonder he was hipped--"which gives me great pain, besides that it would not be safe for me, at present, because of that strumpet's"--_lady morland's_--"debts, i take the boldness to entreat you, that, according to your wonted favors, of the same kind, you will be pleased, at the next opportunity, to give the king this following account." "a little before christmas last, being informed, that she was willing, for a sum of money, to confess in open court a precontract with mr. cheek, and being at the same time assured, both by hir and my own lawyers, that such a confession would be sufficient for a sentence of nullity, i did deposit the money, and accordingly a day of tryall was appoynted; but after the cause had been pleaded, i was privately assured, that the judge was not at all satisfyd with such a confession of hers, as to be sufficient ground for him to null the marriage, and so that design came to nothing." "then i was advised to treat with her, and give her a present sum and a future maintenance, she giving me sufficient security never to trouble mee more; but her demands were so high, i could not consent to them." "after this she sent me a very submissive letter, by her own advocate. i was advised, both by several private friends, and some eminent divines, to take her home, and a day of treaty was appoynted for an accommodation." "in the interim, a certain gentleman came on purpose, to my house, to assure me that i was taking a snake into my bosome, forasmuch as she had for six months last past, to his certain knowledge, been kept by, and cohabited with sir gilb. gerrard, as his wife, &c. upon which making further enquiry, that gentleman furnishing me with some witnesses, and i having found out others, i am this term endeavoring to prove adultery against her, and so to obteyn a divorce, which is the present condition of your most humble and faithful servant, samuel morland." it was fortunate, that sir samuel, whose _naïveté_ and rascality are most amusingly mingled, did not take the "_snake into his bosome_," notwithstanding the advice of those "_eminent divines_," whose counsel is almost ever too celestial, for the practical occasions of the present world. the issue of sir samuel's fatal plunge into the abyss of matrimony, in pursuit of "£ per annum in land and £ in ready money," and of all that befell the lady morland, until she lost her title, is recorded, in the third and last letter to pepys, in vol. v., page . " july, . sir: i once more begg you to give yourself the trouble of acquainting his majesty that upon munday last, after many hott disputes between the doctors of the civil law, the sentence of divorce was solemnly pronounced in open court against that strumpet"--_lady morland_--"for living in adultery with sir gilbert gerrard, for six months last past; so that now, unless shee appeal, for which the law allows her days, i am freed from her for life, and all that i have to do, for the future, will bee to gett clear of her debts, which she has contracted from the day of marriage to the time of sentence, which is like to give me no small trouble, besides the charge, for severall months in the chancery. and till i gett cleared of these debts, i shall bee little better than a prisoner in my own house. sir, believing it my duty to give his majesty this account of myselfe and of my proceedings, and having no other friend to do it for mee, i hope you will forgive the trouble thus given you, by, yours, &c., s. morland." this must have interested his majesty, very deeply. poor james had then enough of care. if he had possessed the hands of briareus, they would have been full already. in less than four months, after the date of this letter, william of orange had landed at torbay, nov. , , and the last days of the last of the stuarts were at hand. if miss bungs were living, even that inexorable hater of all fortune-hunters would admit, that the punishment of sir samuel morland was sufficient for his crimes. few will pretend, that his sufferings were more than he deserved. a more exact retribution cannot well be imagined. it was his intention to apply "_£ ready money_," belonging to "_a very vertuous, pious, and sweet disposition'd lady_," to the payment of his pre-contracted debts. instead of effecting this honorable purpose, he becomes the husband of a low-born strumpet, who is not worth a shilling, and for whose debts, contracted before, as well as after marriage, he is liable; for the law decrees, that a man takes his wife and her circumstances together. there are few individuals, of either sex, however constitutionally grave, who have not a little merriment to spare, for such happy contingencies as these. retributive justice seldom descends, more gracefully, or more deservedly, or more to universal acceptance, upon the crafty heads of unprincipled projectors. for all, that may befall him, the fortune-hunter has little to expect, from male or female sympathy. the scolding tongue--those bewitching tresses, nocturnally deposited on the bedpost--those teeth of pearly brilliancy, which keep or tucker could so readily identify--the perpetual look of distrust--the espionage of jealousy--these and all other _tormina domestica_ are the allotments of the fortune-hunter, by immemorial prescription, and without the slightest sympathy, from man or woman. the case of sir samuel morland is a valuable precedent, on account of his station in society, and the auto-biographical character of the narrative. but there are very few of us, who have not the record of some similar catastrophe, within the compass of our knowledge, though, probably, of a less aggravated type. there is a pleasant legend, in the humbler relations of life, to which i have listened, in earlier days, and which illustrates the principle, involved in these remarks. molly moodey was an excellent cook, in the family of an avaricious old widower, whose god was mammon, and who had been deterred, by the expensiveness of the proceeding, from taking a second goddess. the only sentiment, in any way resembling the tender passion, which had ever been awakened, in the bosom of molly moodey, was a passion for lotteries. she gave such of her waking hours, as were not devoted to roasting and boiling, to the calculation of chances, and her sleeping hours to the dreaming of dreams, about £ , : and by certain combinations, she had come to the conclusion, that no. , was the fortunate number, in the great scheme, then presented to the public. molly avowed her purpose, and demanded her wages, which, after severely berating her, for her folly, were handed over, and the identical ticket was bought. with the hope of being the first to inform her, after the drawing, that her ticket was a blank, her old master noted down the number, in his tablets. in about seven weeks after this occurrence, the old gentleman, while reading the newspaper, in one of the public offices, came upon the following notice--"highest prize! £ , . no. , the fortunate number, sold at our fortunate office, in one entire ticket, skinner, ketchum, & clutch, and will be paid to the lucky proprietor, after the th current." the old gentleman took out his tablets; compared the numbers; wiped his spectacles; collated the numbers again; resorted to the lottery office; and, upon inquiry there, became satisfied, that molly moodey had actually drawn £ , . a new code of sensations came over the spirit of his dreams. he hastened home, oppressed by the heat and his emotions. he bade molly lay aside her mop, and attend him in the parlor, as he had something of importance to communicate.--"molly," said he, after closing the doors--"i find a partner absolutely necessary to my happiness. let me be brief. i am not the man to make a fool of myself, by marrying a young flirt. i have known you, molly, for many years. you have what i prize above all things in a wife, solid, substantial qualifications. will you have me?" taken thus by surprise, she gave a striking evidence of her self-possession, by requesting leave of absence, for a moment, to remove a kettle of fat, which she was trying out, lest it should boil over. she soon came back, and turned her eye--she had but one--with great respect, upon her old master--said something of the difference of their stations--and consented. the old gentleman's attachment for molly appeared to be very extraordinary. until the wedding-day, which was an unusually early one, he would not suffer her to be out of his sight. the day came--they were married. on their way from church--"molly," said the bridegroom, "whereabouts is your ticket, with that fortunate number?"--"oh," she replied, "when i came to think of it, i saw, that you were right. i thought, 'twas quite likely it would draw a blank. crust, the baker, offered me what i gave for it, and a sheet of bunns, to boot, and i let him have it, three weeks ago."--"good god," exclaimed the poor old gentleman--"£ , for a sheet of bunns!" the shock was too much for his reason; and, in less than six weeks, molly was a widow. she attended him, with great fidelity, to the last moment; and his dying words were engraven upon her heart--"_twenty thousand pounds for a sheet of bunns!_" how true to reality are the gay words of tom moore-- "in wedlock a species of lottery lies, where in blanks and in prizes we deal." no. cxvii. the archbishop of cambray, the amiable fenelon, has remarked, that god shows us the high value he sets upon time, by giving us, in absolute possession, one instant only, leaving us, in utter uncertainty, if we shall ever have another. and yet, so little are we disturbed, by this truly momentous consideration, that, long before the breath is fairly out of the old year's body, we are found busily occupied, in gathering chaplets, for the brows of the new one. the early christians were opposed to new year's gifts, as fixedly, as some of the latter christians are opposed to the song and the dance. but i am inclined to believe the rising generation will take steps, very like their fathers--that light fantastic tongues and toes, will continue to wag, to all eternity--and that the unmusical and rheumatic will deplore over such heterodox and ungodly proceedings, till the world shall be no more. the new year's gifts of the romans were, originally, exceedingly simple. sprigs of vervain, gathered in a wood, consecrated to strenia, the goddess of strength, somehow or other, came into favor, and were accounted of good omen. a custom arose of sending these sprigs about the neighborhood, as tokens of friendship, on new year's day; and these trifling remembrancers obtained the name of _strenæ_. these sprigs of vervain, ere long, wore out their welcome; and were followed, in after years, by presents of dates, figs and honey. clients thus complimented their patrons; and, before many anniversaries, the coin of rome began to mingle with the donative, whatever it might be; and, very soon, the advantage of the receiver came less to be consulted, than the reputation of him, who gave. when i contemplate those ample storehouses of all, that is gorgeous and glittering--those receptacles of useless finery, which nobody actually wants--and, at the same time, reflect upon all that i know, and much that i conjecture, of the necessities and distresses of mankind, i am not certain, that it may not be wise to resume the earlier custom of the romans, and embody, in certain cases, our annual tokens of friendship and good will, in such useful materials, as _figs, dates and honey_. are there not individuals, who, upon the reception of some gaudy and expensive bagatelle, are ready to exclaim, with the cock in Æsop--"_i had rather have one grain of dear, delicious, barley, than all the jewels under the sun!_" i am not so utopian, as to anticipate any immediate or very extensive reformation, in this practice, which, excellent as it is, when restrained within reasonable bounds, is, unquestionably, under certain circumstances, productive of evil. it is not to be expected, that expensive _bijoux_, for new year's gifts, will speedily give place to _sugar and molasses_. but there are cases, not a few, when, upon a new year's day, the wealthy giver, without paining the recipient, may convert the annual compliment, into something better than a worthless toy--a fantastical token of ostentatious remembrance. the christian world has settled down, at last, upon the first of january, as new year's day. it was not always thus; and, even now, no little difficulty occurs, in our attempts to refer historical events to particular years. we can do no better, perhaps, than to devote this number to a brief exposition of this difficulty. every schoolboy knows, that romulus divided the year into ten months. the first was march, and, from march to december, they have retained their original names, for some six and twenty centuries, excepting the fifth and sixth month, which, from _quintilis_ and _sextilis_, have been changed, in honor of _julius_ and _augustus_. numa added two months, _januarius_ and _februarius_. numa's year consisted therefore of twelve months, according to the moon's course. but numa's lunar year did not agree with the course of the sun, and he therefore introduced, every other year, an _intercalary_ month, between the d and th of february. the length of this month was decided by the priests, who lengthened or shortened the year, to suit their convenience. cicero, in a letter to atticus, x. , writes, in strong disfavor, of numa's calendar. julius cæsar, with the aid of sosigenes of alexandria, adjusted this astronomical account. to bring matters into order, suetonius, in his life of julius cæsar, , says, they were constrained to make one final year of fifteen months, to close the confusion. hence arose the julian or solar year, the year of the christian world. the "_alteration of the style_" is only an amendment of the julian calendar, in one particular, by pope gregory, in . in , a. d., the vernal equinox occurred march , and in it occurred march . he called the astronomers to council, and, by their advice, obliterated ten days from the current year, between october , and . these ten days make the difference, from to february , . from march , , to february , , eleven days were required, and from march , , to february , , twelve days. in all roman catholic countries, this alteration of the style was instantly adopted; but not in great britain, till . the greeks and russians have never adopted the gregorian alteration of the style. the commencement of the year has been assigned to very different periods. in some of the italian states, as recently as , the year has been taken to commence, at the annunciation, march . writers of the sixth century have, occasionally, like the romans, considered march as new year's day. charles ix. by a special edict, in , decreed, that the year should be considered to commence, on the first of january. in germany, about the eleventh century, the year commenced at christmas. such was the practice, in modern rome, and other italian cities, as late as the fifteenth century. gervais of canterbury, who lived early in the thirteenth century, states, that all writers of his country considered christmas the true beginning of the year. in great britain, from the twelfth century, till the alteration of the style in , the annunciation, or march , was commonly considered the first day of the year. after this, the year was taken to commence, on the first of january. the chaldæan and egyptian years commenced with the autumnal equinox. the japanese and the chinese date their year from the new moon, nearest the winter solstice. as diemschid, king of persia, entered persepolis, the sun happened to be entering into aries. in commemoration of this coincidence, he decreed, that the year should change front, and commence, forever more, in the vernal, instead of the autumnal equinox. the swedish year, of old, began, most happily, at the winter solstice, or at the time of the sun's reäppearance in the horizon, after the usual _quarantine_, or absence of forty days. the turks and arabs date the advent of their year, upon the sixteenth of july. in our own country, the year, in former times, commenced in march. in the mass. hist. coll., vol. xvii. p. , may be found certain votes, passed in boston, nov. , , among which is the following--"_that all such as have allotments for habitations allotted unto them, shall build thereon, before the first of the first month next, called march_." in johnson's wonder-working providence, ch. , the writer says of the boston pilgrims, in : "thus this poor people, having now tasted liberally of the salvation of the lord, &c. &c., set apart the day of october, which they call the _eighth moneth_, not out of any pevish humor of singularity, as some are ready to censor them with, but of purpose to prevent the heathenish and popish observation of dayes, moneths, and yeares, that they may be forgotten, among the people of the lord." if october was their _eighth_ month, march was necessarily their _first_. whatever the practice may have been, in this respect, it was by no means universal, in new england, during a considerable period, before the alteration of the style in . a reference to the record will show, that, until , the old style was adhered to, by the courts, in this country, and the th of march was considered to be new year's day. but it was not so with the public journals. thus the boston news letter, the boston gazette, the new england courant and other journals, existing here, before the adoption of the new style, in great britain, in , considered the year, as commencing on the first of january. private individuals very frequently did the same thing. at this moment, a letter from peter faneuil is lying at my elbow, addressed to messrs. lane and smethurst of london, bearing date january , , at the close of which he wishes his correspondents _a happy new year_, showing, that the first of january, for ordinary purposes, and in common parlance, was accounted new year's day. the little people, of both sexes, would, doubtless, have voted for the adoption of the old style and of the new; in other words, for having two new year's days, in every year. they would have been as much delighted with the conceit, as was rousseau, with the pleasant fancy of st. pierre, who wrote, from the isle of france, to a friend in paris, that he had enjoyed two summers in one year; the perusal of which letter induced rousseau, to seek the acquaintance of the author of paul and virginia. no. cxviii. dion remarks, while speaking of trajan--_he that lies in a golden urn, eminently above the earth, is not likely to rest in peace_. the same thing may be affirmed of him, who has raised himself, eminently above his peers, wherever he may lie. during the roman catholic rage for relics, the graves were ransacked, and numberless sinners, to supply the demand, were dug up for saints. sooner or later, the finger of curiosity, under some plausible pretext, will lift the coffin lid; or the foot of political sacrilege will trample upon the ashes of him, whom a former generation had delighted to honor; or the motiveless spirit of mischief will violate the sanctity of the tomb. when charles i. was buried, in the same vault with henry viii. and anne boleyn, a soldier, as wood relates, in his athenæ oxonienses, vol. iv. p. , lond. , attempted to steal a royal bone, which was afterwards found upon his person, and, which he said, upon examination, he had designed, for a handle to his knife. john milton died, according to the respective accounts of mitford, johnson, and hayley, on the th--about the th--or on the th of november, . he was buried, in the chancel of st. giles, cripplegate. in the london monthly magazine, for august, , there appeared an extract from the diary of general murray, giving a particular account of the desecration of milton's remains. the account was given to general murray, at a dinner party, aug. , , by mr. thornton, who received it, from an eye-witness of the transaction. the church of st. giles requiring repairs, the occasion was thought a proper one, to place a monument, over the body of milton. messieurs strong, cole, and others, of that parish, sought for, and discovered, the leaden coffin, the outer coffin of wood having mouldered away. having settled the question of identity, these persons replaced the coffin, and ordered the workmen to fill up the grave. the execution of this order was postponed, for several days. in the interim, some of the parish, whose names are given, by general murray, having dined together, and become partially drunk, resolved to examine the body; and proceeded, with lights, to the church. with a mallet and chisel, they cut open the coffin, rolled back the lead, and gazed upon the bones of john milton! general murray's diary shall relate the residue of a proceeding, which might call the rouge to the cheeks of a vandal:-- "the hair was in an astonishingly perfect state; its color a light brown, its length six inches and a half, and, although somewhat clotted, it appeared, after having been well washed, as strong as the hair of a living being. fountain said he was determined to have two of his teeth; but as they resisted the pressure of his fingers, he struck the jaw, with a paving stone, and several teeth then fell out. there were only five in the upper jaw, and these were taken by fountain; the four, that were in the lower jaw, were seized upon, by taylor, hawkesworth, and the sexton's man. the hair, which had been carefully combed, and tied together, before the interment, was forcibly pulled off the skull, by taylor and another; but ellis, the player, who had now joined the party, told the former, that being a good hair-worker, if he would let him have it, he would pay a guinea-bowl of punch. ellis, therefore, became possessed of all the hair: he likewise took a part of the shroud, and a bit of the skin of the skull: indeed, he was only prevented from carrying off the head, by the sextons, hoppy and grant, who said, that they intended to exhibit the remains, which was afterwards done, each person paying sixpence to view the body. these fellows, i am told, gained near one hundred pounds, by the exhibition. laming put one of the leg-bones in his pocket." after reading this short, shameless record, one half inclines to cremation; even if, instead of being enshrined or inurned, our dust be given, in fee simple, to the winds. how forcibly the words of sir thomas ring in our ears--"_to be gnawed out of our graves, to have our skulls made drinking bowls, and our bones turned into pipes, to delight and sport our enemies, are tragical abominations, escaped in burning burials_." the account from general murray's diary, and at greater length, may be found also, in the appendix to mitford's life of milton, in the octavo edition of his poetical works, cambridge, mass., . great indignation has lately been excited, in england, against a vampyre of a fellow, named blore, who is said to have destroyed one half of dryden's monument, and defaced ben jonson's, and cowley's, in westminster abbey. inquiring after motive, in such cases, is much like raking the ashes, after a conflagration, to find the originating spark. there is a motive, doubtless, in some by-corner of the brain; whether a man burns the temple, at ephesus; or spears the elephant of judas maccabæus, with certain death to himself; or destroys the barberrini vase. the motive was avowed, on the trial, in a similar case, by a young man, who, some years ago, shot a menagerie elephant, while passing through a village, in the state of maine, to be a wish "_to see how a fellow would feel, who killed an elephant_." dryden's, and cowley's monuments are on the left of ben jonson's, and before you, as you approach the poet's corner. dryden's monument is a lofty affair, with an arch and a bust, and is thus inscribed: "j. dryden, born , died may , .--john sheffield, duke of buckingham, erected this monument, ." it is not commonly known, that the original bust was changed, by the duchess, for one of very superior workmanship, which, of course, is the one mutilated by blore. the monument, erected by george, duke of buckingham, to cowley, is a pedestal, bearing an urn, decorated with laurel, and with a pompous and unmeaning epitaph, in latin hexameters. if blore understood the language, perhaps he considered these words, upon the tablet, a challenge-- --------quis temerarius ausit-- sacrilega turbare manu venerabile bustum. the monument of ben jonson is an elegant tablet, with a festoon of masks, and the inscription--_oh rare ben jonson!_ it stands before you, when dryden's and cowley's are upon your left, and is next to that of samuel butler. in the north aisle of the nave, there is a stone, about eighteen inches square, bearing the same inscription. in the "history of westminster abbey," to ed lond. , vol. ii. p. , note, it is stated, that "dart says one young, afterwards a knight in the time of charles ii., of great milton, in oxfordshire, placed a stone over the grave of ben jonson, which cost eighteen pence, with the above inscription:" but it is not stated, that the stone, now there, is the same. dr. johnson, in his life of dryden, recites what he terms "_a wild story, relating to some vexatious events, that happened, at his funeral_." dryden's widow, and his son, charles, had accepted the offer of lord halifax, to pay the expenses of the funeral, and five hundred pounds, for a monument. the company came--the corpse was placed in a velvet hearse--eighteen coaches were in attendance, filled with mourners.--as they were about to move, the young lord jeffries, son of the chancellor, with a band of rakes, coming by, and learning that the funeral was dryden's, said the ornament of the nation should not so be buried, and proceeded, accompanied by his associates, in a body, to wait upon the widow, and beg her to permit him to bear the expense of the interment, and to pay one thousand pounds, for a monument, in the abbey. the gentlemen in the coaches, being ignorant of the liberal offers of the dean and lord halifax, readily descended from their carriages, and attended lord jeffries and his party to the bedside of the lady, who was sick, where he repeated his offers; and, upon her positive refusal, got upon his knees, as did the whole party; and he there swore that he would not rise, till his entreaty was granted. at length, affecting to understand some word of the lady's, as giving permission, he rushed out, followed by the rest, proclaiming her consent, and ordered the corpse to be left at russell's, an undertaker's, in cheapside, till he gave orders for its embalmment. during this proceeding, the abbey having been lighted up, lord halifax and the dean, who was also bishop of rochester, to use the tea-table phrase, waited and waited, and waited. the ground was opened, the choir attending, and an anthem set. when mr. dryden went, next day, to offer excuses, neither lord halifax, nor the dean, would accept of any apology. after waiting three days for orders, the undertaker called on lord jeffries, who said he knew nothing about it, and that it was only a tipsy frolic, and that the undertaker might do what he pleased with the corpse. the undertaker threatened to set the corpse before the widow's door. she begged a day's respite. mr. charles dryden wrote to lord jeffries, who replied, that he knew nothing about it. he then addressed the dean and lord halifax, who refused to have anything to do with it. he then challenged lord jeffries, who refused to fight. he went himself, and was refused admittance. he then resolved to horsewhip his lordship; upon notice of which design, the latter left town. in the midst of this misery, dr. garth sent for the body, to be brought to the college of physicians; proposed a subscription; and set a noble example. the body was finally buried, about three weeks after the decease, and dr. garth pronounced a fine latin oration. at the close of the narrative, which, as repeated by dr. johnson, covers more than three octavo pages of murphy's edition, the doctor remarks, that he once intended to omit it entirely, and that he had met with no confirmation, but in a letter of farquhar's. the tale is simply alluded to, by gorton, and told, at some length, by chalmers. both, however, consider it a fabrication, by mrs. thomas, the authoress, whom dryden styled _corinna_, and whom pope lampooned, in his comatose and vicious performance, the dunciad, probably because she provoked his wrath, by publishing his letters to h. cromwell. in the earlier editions of the encyclopædia britannica, the tale is told, as sober matter of fact: in the last, napier's, of , it is wholly omitted. malone, in his life of dryden, page , ascribes the whole to mrs. thomas. dryden died, in . the first four volumes of johnson's lives of the poets, containing dryden's, went to the press in . considering the nature of this outrage; the eminence, not only of the dead, but of some of the living, whose names are involved; its alleged publicity; and its occurrence in the very city, where all the parties flourished; it is remarkable, that this "_wild story_," as johnson fitly calls it, should have obtained any credit, and survived for nine-and-seventy years. no. cxix. deeply to be commiserated are all those, who have not read, from beginning to end, the writings of the immortal oliver--a repast, _ab ovo usque ad mala_, to be swallowed, and inwardly digested, while our intellectual stomachs are young and vigorous, and to be regurgitated, and chewed over, a thousand times, when the almond tree begins to flourish, and even the grasshopper becomes a burden. who does not remember his story of the chinese matron--the widow with the great fan! the original of this pleasant tale is not generally known. the brief legend, related by goldsmith, is an imperfect epitome of an interesting story, illustrating the power of magic, among the followers of laou-keun, the founder of a religious sect, in china, resembling that of epicurus. the original tale was translated from the chinese, by père dentrecolles, who was at the head of the french missionaries, in china, and died at pekin, in . the following liberal version, from the french, which may, perhaps, be better called a paraphrase, will not fail, i think, to interest the reader. wealth, and all the blessings it can procure, for man, are brief and visionary. honors, glory, fame are gaudy clouds, that flit by, and are gone. the ties of blood are easily broken; affection is a dream. the most deadly hate may occupy the heart, which held the warmest love. a yoke is not worth wearing, though wrought of gold. chains are burdensome, though adorned with jewels. let us purge our minds; calm our passions; curb our wishes; and set not our hearts upon a vain world. let our highest aim be liberty--pleasure. chuang-tsze took unto himself a wife, whose youth and beauty seduced him from the busy world. he retired, among the delightful scenery of soong, his native province, and gave himself up, entirely, to the delights of philosophy and love. a sovereign, who had become acquainted with the fame of chuang-tsze, for superior wisdom, invited him to become his wuzzeer, or prime minister. chuang-tsze declined, in the language of parable--"a heifer," said he, "pampered for the sacrifice, and decked with ornaments, marched triumphantly along, looking, as she passed, with mingled pride and contempt, upon some humble oxen, that were yoked to the plough. she proudly entered the temple--but when she beheld the knife, and comprehended that she was a victim, how gladly would she have exchanged conditions with the humblest of those, upon whom she had so lately looked down with pity and contempt." chuang-tsze walked by the skirts of the mountain, absorbed in thought--he suddenly came among many tombs--the city of the dead. "here then," he exclaimed, "all are upon a level--caste is unknown--the philosopher and the fool sleep, side by side. this is eternity! from the sepulchre there is no return!" he strolled among the tombs; and, erelong, perceived a grave, that had been recently made. the mound of moistened clay was not yet thoroughly dry. by the side of that grave sat a young woman, clad in the deepest mourning. with a white fan, of large proportions, she was engaged, in fanning the earth, which covered this newly made grave. chuang-tsze was amazed; and, drawing near, respectfully inquired, who was the occupant of that grave, and why this mourning lady was so strangely employed. tears dropped from her eyes, as she uttered a few inaudible words, without rising, or ceasing to fan the grave. the curiosity of chuang-tsze was greatly excited--he ascribed her manner, not to fear, but to some inward sense of shame--and earnestly besought her to explain her motives, for an act, so perfectly novel and mysterious. after a little embarrassment, she replied, as follows: "sir, you behold a lone woman--death has deprived me of my beloved husband--this grave contains his precious remains. our love was very great for each other. in the hour of death, his agony, at the thought of parting from me, was immoderate. these were his dying words--'my beloved, should you ever think of a second marriage, it is my dying request, that you remain a widow, at least till my grave is thoroughly dry; then you have my permission to marry whomsoever you will.' and now, as the earth, which is quite damp still, will take a long time to dry, i thought i would fan it a little, to dissipate the moisture." chuang-tsze made great efforts, to suppress a strong disposition to laugh outright, in the woman's face. "she is in a feverish haste," thought he. "what a hypocrite, to talk of their mutual affection! if such be love, what a time there would have been, had they hated each other." "madam," said the philosopher, "you are desirous, that this grave should dry, as soon as possible; but, with your feeble strength, it will require a long time, to accomplish it; let me assist you." she expressed her deep sense of the obligation, and rising, with a profound courtesy, handed the philosopher a spare fan, which she had brought with her. chuang-tsze, who possessed the power of magic, struck the ground with the fan repeatedly; and it soon became perfectly dry. the widow appeared greatly surprised, and delighted, and presented the philosopher with the fan, and a silver bodkin, which she drew from her tresses. he accepted the fan only; and the lady retired, highly gratified, with the speedy accomplishment of her object. chuang-tsze remained, for a brief space, absorbed in thought; and, at length, returned slowly homeward, meditating, by the way, upon this extraordinary adventure. he sat down in his apartment, and, for some time, gazed, in silence, upon the fan. at length, he exclaimed--"who, after having witnessed this occurrence, can hesitate to draw the inference, that marriage is one of the modes, by which the doctrine of the metempsychosis is carried out. people, who have hated each other heartily, in some prior condition of being, are made man and wife, for the purpose of mutual vexation--that is it, undoubtedly." the wife of the philosopher had approached him, unobserved; and, hearing his last words, and noticing the fan, which he was still earnestly gazing upon--"pray, be so good, as to inform me," said she, "what is the meaning of all this; and where, i should like to know, did you obtain that fine fan, which appears to interest you so much?" chuang-tsze, very faithfully, narrated to his wife the story of the young widow, and all the circumstances, which had taken place, at the tomb. as soon as the philosopher had finished the narrative, his wife, her countenance inflamed with the severest indignation, broke forth, with a torrent of contemptuous expressions, and unmeasured abuse, against the abominable, young widow. she considered her a scandal to her sex. "aye," she exclaimed, "this vile widow must be a perfect monster, devoid of every particle of feeling." "alas," said the philosopher, "while the husband is in the flesh, there is no wife, that is not ready to flatter and caress him--but no sooner is the breath out of his body, than she seizes her fan, and forthwith proceeds to dry up his grave." this greatly excited the ire of his wife--"how dare you talk in this outrageous manner," said she, "of the whole sex? you confound the virtuous with such vile wretches, as this unprincipled widow, who deserves to be annihilated. are you not ashamed of yourself, to talk in this cruel way? i should think you might be restrained, by the dread of future punishment." "why give way," said chuang-tsze, "to all this passionate outcry? be candid--you are young, and extremely beautiful--should i die, this day--do you pretend, that, with your attractions, you would suffer much time to be lost, before you accepted the services of another husband?" "good god," cried the lady, "how you talk! who ever heard of a truly faithful wuzzeer, that, after the death of his master, served another prince? a widow _indeed_ never accepts a second partner. did you ever know a case, in which such a wife as i have been--a woman of my qualities and station, after having lost her tenderly beloved, forsook his memory, and gave herself to the embraces of a second husband! such an act, in my opinion, would be infamous. should you be taken from me, today, be assured, that i should follow you, with my imperishable love, and die, at last, your disconsolate widow." "it is easy to promise, but not always so easy to perform," replied the philosopher. at this speech, the lady was exasperated--"i would have you to know," said she, "that women are to be found, without much inquiry, quite as noble-hearted and constant, as _you_ have ever been. what a pattern of constancy you have been! dear me! only think of it! when your first wife died, you soon repaired your loss: and, becoming weary of your second, you obtained a divorce from her, and then married me! what a constant creature you have been! no wonder you think so lightly of women!" saying this, she snatched the fan out of her husband's hand, and tore it into innumerable pieces; by which act she appeared to have obtained very considerable relief; and, in a somewhat gentler tone, she told her husband, that he was in excellent health, and likely to live, for very many years; and that she could not, for the soul of her, see what could induce him to torment her to death, by talking in this manner. "compose yourself, my dear," said chuang-tsze, "i confess that your indignation delights me. i rejoice to see you exhibit so much feeling and fire, upon such a theme." the wife of the philosopher recovered her composure; and their conversation turned upon ordinary affairs. before many days, chuang-tsze became suddenly and severely attacked, by some unaccountable disease. the symptoms no. cxx. let us continue the story of chuang-tsze, the great master of magic. before many days, as i have stated, chuang-tsze became suddenly and severely attacked, by some unaccountable disease. the symptoms were full of evil. his devoted wife was ever near her sick husband, sobbing bitterly, and bathing him in tears. "it is but too plain," said the philosopher, "that i cannot survive--i am upon the bed of death--this very night, perhaps--at farthest, tomorrow--we shall part forever--what a pity, that you should have destroyed that fan--it would have answered so well, for the purpose of drying the earth upon my tomb!" "for heaven's sake," exclaimed the weeping wife, "do not, weak and feeble as you are, harrass yourself, with these horrible fancies. you do me great wrong. our books i have carefully perused. i know my duties well. you have received my troth--it shall never be another's. can you doubt my sincerity! let me prove it, by dying first. i am ready." "enough," said the philosopher--"i now die in peace--i am satisfied of your constancy. but the world is fading away--the cold hand of death is upon me." the head of chuang-tsze fell back--the breath had stopped--the pulse had ceased to beat--he was already with the dead. if the piercing cries of a despairing, shrieking widow could have raised the dead, chuang-tsze would have arisen, on the spot. she sprang upon the corpse, and held it long, in her fond embrace. she then arrayed her person in the deepest mourning, a robe of seamless white, and made the air resound with her cries of anguish and despair. she abjured food; abstained from slumber; and refused to be comforted. chuang-tsze had the wide-spread fame of an eminent sage--crowds gathered to his obsequies. after their performance, and when the vast assemblage had all, well nigh, departed--a youth of comely face, and elegantly arrayed, was observed, lingering near the spot. he proclaimed himself to be of most honorable descent, and that he had, long before, declared to chuang-tsze his design of becoming the pupil of that great philosopher. "for that end," said he, "and that alone, i have come to this place--and behold chuang-tsze is no more. great is my misfortune!" this splendid youth cast off his colored garments, and assumed the robes of lamentation--he bowed himself to the earth, before the coffin of the defunct--four times, he touched the ground with his forehead; and, with an utterance choked by sobs, he exclaimed--"oh chuang-tsze, learned and wise, your ill-fated disciple cannot receive wisdom and knowledge from your lips; but he will signify his reverence for your memory, by abiding here an hundred days, to mourn, for one he so truly revered." he then again bent his forehead, four times, to the earth, and moistened it with his tears. the youthful disciple, after a few days, desired permission to offer his condolence to the widow, which she, at first declined: but, upon his reference to the ancient rites, which allow a widow to receive the visits of her late husband's friends, and especially of his disciples, she finally consented. she moved with slow and solemn steps to the hall of reception, where the young gentleman acquitted himself, with infinite grace and propriety, and tendered the usual expressions of consolation. the elegant address and fine person of this young disciple were not lost upon the widow of chuang-tsze. she was fascinated. a sentiment of tenderness began to rise in her bosom, whose presence she had scarcely the courage to recognize. she ventured, in a right melancholy way, to suggest a hope, that it was not his purpose immediately to leave the valley of soong. "i have endured much in the loss of my great master," he replied. "precious forever be his memory. it will be grateful to my heart to seek here a brief home, wherein i may pass those hundred days of mourning, which our rites prescribe, and then to take part in the obsequies, which will follow. i may also solace myself the while, by perusing the works of my great master, of whose living instructions i am so unhappily deprived." "we shall feel ourselves highly honored, by your presence, under our roof," replied the lady; "it seems to me entirely proper, that you should take up your abode here, rather than elsewhere." she immediately directed some refreshments to be brought, and caused the works of chuang-tsze to be exhibited, on a large table, together with a copy of the learned taou-te-king, which had been a present to her late husband, from laou-keun himself. the coffin of chuang-tsze was deposited, in a large hall; and, on one side, was a suite of apartments, opening into it, which was assigned to the visitor. this devoted widow came, very frequently, to weep over the remains of her honored husband; and failed not to say a civil word to the youth, who, notified of her presence, by her audible sobs, never omitted to come forth, and mingle his lamentations with hers. mutual glances were exchanged, upon such occasions. in short, each, already, was effectually smitten with the other. one day, the pretty, little widow sent privately for the old domestic, who attended upon the young man, in the capacity of body servant, and inquired, all in a seemingly casual way, if his master was married. "not yet"--he replied.--"he is very fastidious, i suppose"--said the lady, with an inquiring look.--"it is even so, madam," replied the servant--"my master is, indeed, not easily suited, in such a matter. his standard is very high. i have heard him say, that he should, probably, never be married, as he despaired of ever finding a female resembling yourself, in every particular."--"did he say so?" exclaimed the widow, as the warm blood rushed into her cheeks.--"he certainly did," replied the other, "and much more, which i do not feel at liberty to repeat."--"dear me," said the widow, "what a bewitching young man he is! go to him, and if he really loves me, as you say, tell him he may open the subject, without fear, for his passion is amply returned, by one, who is willing, if he so wishes, to become his wife." the young widow, from day to day, threw herself repeatedly, and as if by accident, into the old servant's way; and began, at last, to feel surprised, and somewhat nettled, that he brought her no message from his master. at length, she became exceedingly impatient, and asked him directly, if he had spoken to his master on the subject. "yes, madam," the old man replied.--"and pray," asked the widow, eagerly, "what said he?"--"he said, madam, that such an union would place him upon the pinnacle of human happiness; but that there was one fatal objection."--"and do, for pity's sake, tell me," said she, hastily interrupting the old man, "what that objection can be."--"he said," rejoined the old domestic, "that, being a disciple of your late husband, such a marriage, he feared, would be considered scandalous."--"but," said she, briskly, "there is just nothing in that. he was never a disciple of chuang-tsze--he only proposed to become one, which is an entirely different thing. if any other frivolous objections arise, i beg you to remove them; and you may count upon being handsomely rewarded." her anxiety caused her to become exceedingly restless. she made frequent visits to the hall, and, when she approached the coffin, her sobs became more audible than ever--but the young disciple came not forth, as usual. upon one occasion, after dark, as she was standing near the coffin, she was startled, by an unusual noise. "gracious heaven!" she exclaimed, "can it be so! is the old philosopher coming back to life!" the cold sweat came upon her lovely brow, as she started to procure a light. when she returned, the mystery was readily explained. in front of the coffin there was a table, designed as an altar, for the reception of such emblems and presents, as were placed there by visitors. the old servant, had become tipsy, and finding no more convenient place, in which to bestow himself, while waiting his master's bidding, he had thrown himself, at full length, upon this altar; and, in turning over, had occasioned the noise, which had so much alarmed the young widow. under other circumstances, the act would have been accounted sacrilegious, and the fellow would have been subjected to the bastinado. but, as matters stood, the widow passed it by, and even suffered the sot to remain undisturbed. on the morning of the following day, the widow encountered the old domestic, who was passing her, with as much apparent indifference, as though she had never entrusted him, with any important commission. surprised by his behavior, she called him to her private apartment--"well," said she, "have you executed the business, which i gave you in charge?"--"oh," said he, with an air of provoking indifference, "that is all over, i believe."--"how so," inquired the widow--"did you deliver my message correctly?"--"in your own words," he replied--"my master would make any sacrifice to make you his wife; and is entirely persuaded, by your arguments, to give up the objection he stated, in regard to his being the disciple of chuang-tsze; but there are three other objections, which it will be impossible to overcome; and which his sense of delicacy forbids him to exhibit before you."--"poh, poh," said the widow, "let me hear what they are, and we shall then see, whether they are insurmountable or not."--"well, madam," said the old man, "since you command me, i will state them, as nearly as i can, in the words of my young master. the first of these three objections is this----" no. cxxi. we were about to exhibit those three objections of the young disciple, to his marriage, with the widow of chuang-tsze, when we were summoned away, by professional duties. let us proceed--"the first of my master's objections," said the old domestic, "is this--the coffin of chuang-tsze is still in the hall of ceremony. a sight, so sad and solemnizing, is absolutely inconsistent with the nuptial celebration. the world would cry out upon such inconsistency. in the second place, the fame of your late husband was so great--his love for you so devoted--yours for him so ardent and sincere, and founded, so obviously, upon his learning and wisdom--that my master fears it will be impossible for him, to supply the place of so good, and so great, a man; and that you will, ere long, despise him, for his inferiority; and that your affections will be entirely and unchangeably fixed, on the memory of the great defunct. the third and last objection, named by my master, whose passion for you knows no bounds, is serious indeed. though of lofty pedigree, he is very poor. he has neither money nor lands; and has not the means of purchasing those marriage gifts, which custom requires him to offer." "and are these the only objections?" said she. "there are no others," he replied; "if it were not for these insurmountable objections, the happiness of my master would be complete, and he would openly manifest that passion, by which he is now secretly consumed." "they are, by no means, insurmountable," said the young widow, with animation. "as for the coffin, what is it? a mere shell, containing the remains of poor chuang-tsze. it is not absolutely necessary, that it should remain in the hall, during these one hundred days. at the farther end of my garden is an ancient smoke-house. it is quite dilapidated, and no longer in use. some of my people shall carry the coffin thither, without farther delay. so you may inform your sweet, young master, that his first objection will be instantly removed. and why should he distress himself so needlessly, in regard to the second? chuang-tsze certainly passed, with the world, for a great philosopher, and a wonderful man. the world sees from a distance. a sort of haze or mist impedes its vision. minute particulars escape its observation. that, which is smooth and fair, seen from afar, may appear full of inequalities to one, who is near at hand. god forbid, that i should undervalue the dead; but it is well known, that chuang-tsze repudiated his second wife, because she did not precisely suit his humor, and then married me. his great reputation induced a certain sovereign, to appoint him his chief minister. but the philosopher was not deficient in shrewdness--he knew his incapacity, and resolved to hide himself, in that solitude, where we have vegetated, so long." "about a month ago, he encountered a young widow, who, with a large fan, was endeavoring to dry up her husband's grave, because she could not marry again, under the condition her husband had imposed upon her, until this was done. chuang-tsze, if you will believe it, made the acquaintance of this shameless woman; and actually assisted her, in drying up her husband's grave. she gave him a fan, as a keepsake; and he valued it highly. i got possession of it however, and tore it to tatters. you see how great my obligations are to this wonderful philosopher; and you may judge of the real affection, which i must feel, for the memory of such a man." "the last objection," continued the widow, "is easily disposed of. i will furnish your master with all the means he can desire. chuang-tsze, to do the man justice, has left me the absolute mistress of an ample fortune--here, present these twenty taels to your master, from me, with such expressions of devotion, as may befit the lips of one, whose heart is all his own; and say to him, unless he himself is desirous of a longer delay, that, as the whole of life is not too long for love, i shall be happy, if he desires it, to become his bride, this very day." thus far the course of true love, in despite of the proverb, certainly ran smooth. "here," said the young disciple, upon sight of the twenty taels, as he turned them over, "is something substantial--run back immediately to the widow, and tell her my passion will endure the curb no longer. i am entirely at her disposal." the widow was quite beside herself, upon receiving these tidings; and, casting off her garments of heaviness, she began to embellish her fine person. the coffin of chuang-tsze, by her directions, was immediately transferred to the old smoke-house. the hall was made ready, for the approaching nuptials. if murmurs occasionally arose, among the old, faithful domestics of chuang-tsze, the widow's passion was more blind than moonless midnight, and deafer than the time-stricken adder. a gorgeous feast was made ready. the shades of evening drew on apace--the lanterns were lighted up, in all directions--the nuptial torch cast forth its bright beams from an elevated table. at the appointed signal, the bridegroom entered, most skilfully and splendidly arrayed,--so that his fine, manly figure was exhibited, to the greatest advantage. the young widow soon appeared, her countenance the very tabernacle of pleasure, and her bewitching form, adorned in the most costly silks, and splendid embroidery. they placed themselves, side by side, in front of the hymeneal taper, arrayed in pearls, and diamonds, and tissue of gold. those salutations, which custom demands, having been duly performed, and the bride and bridegroom having wished each other eternal felicity, in that manner, which the marriage rites prescribe, the bridegroom holding the hand of the bride, they proceeded to the festal hall; and having drunk from the goblet of mutual fidelity, they took their places, at the banqueting board. the repast went joyously forward--the darkest cloud--how suddenly will it come over the smiling face of the bewitching moon! the festival had not yet passed, when the bridegroom fell to the floor, in horrible convulsions. with eyes turned upward, and mouth frightfully distorted, he became an object of horror. the bride, whose passion for the young disciple was ardent and sincere, screamed aloud. she threw herself, in all her bridal array, upon the floor, by his side; clasped him in her arms; covered him with kisses; and implored him, to say what she could do, to afford him relief. miserable youth! he was unable to reply, and seemed about to expire. the old domestic rushed into the apartment, upon hearing the noise, and taking his master from the floor, proceeded to shake him with violence. "my god," cried the lady, "has this ever happened before?" "yes, madam," he replied, "he has a return of it about once, in every year." "and, for heaven's sake, tell me what remedies do you employ?" she eagerly inquired. "there is one sovereign remedy," the old man replied; "his physician considers it a specific." "and what is it? tell me, in the name of confucius," she passionately exclaimed, for the convulsions were growing more violent. "nothing will restore him, but the brains of a man, recently dead, taken in warm wine. his father, who was governor of a province, when his son was last attacked, in this way, caused a criminal to be executed, that his brains might be thus employed." "good god!" exclaimed the agonizing bride, for the convulsions, after a short remission, were returning, with redoubled violence, and the bridegroom was foaming terribly, at the mouth. "tell me instantly, will the brains of a man who died a natural death answer as well?" "undoubtedly," the old servant replied. "well then," said she, in a tone somewhat subdued--"there is chuang-tsze in the smoke-house." "ah, madam," said the old domestic, "i am aware of it--it occurred to me--but i feared to suggest it." "and of what possible use," she exclaimed, "can the brains of old chuang-tsze be to him now, i should like to know?" at this moment, the convulsions became absolutely terrific. "these returns," said the old man, "will become more and more violent, till they destroy my poor master. there is no time to be lost." the wretched bride rushed from the apartment, and, seizing a hatchet, which happened to be lying in the outer passage, she hastily made her way to the old smoke-house. elevating the hatchet above her head, she struck a violent blow, on the lid of the coffin. if the whole force of the blow had descended upon a secret spring, the lid could not have risen more suddenly. it seemed like the power of magic. the bride turned her eyes upon the closed lids of the corpse--they gradually opened; and the balls were slowly turned, and steadily fixed, upon her. in an instant chuang-tsze sat, bolt upright, in his coffin! she sent forth a shriek of terror--the hatchet fell from her paralyzed hand--the cold sweat of confusion gathered thickly upon her brow. "my beloved wife," said the philosopher, with perfect calmness, "be so obliging as to lend me your hand, that i may get out.--i have had a charming nap," continued he, as he took the lamp from her hand, and advanced towards the hall. she followed, trembling at every step, and dreading the meeting, between the old philosopher and the young disciple. though the air of unwonted festivity, under the light of the waning tapers, still hung over the apartment, fortunately the youth and the old servant seemed to have departed. upon this, her courage, in some measure, revived, and, turning a look of inexpressible tenderness upon chuang-tsze--"dearest husband," said she, "how i have cherished your memory! my day thoughts and dreams have been all of you. i have often heard, that the apparent dead were revived, especially if not confined within closed apartments. i therefore caused your precious coffin to be removed, where the cool, refreshing air could blow over it. how i have watched, and listened, for some evidence of returning life! and how my heart leaped into my mouth, when my vigilance was at last rewarded. i flew with a hatchet to open the coffin; and, when i saw your dear eyes turned upon me, i thought i should"--"i can never repay your devotion," said the philosopher, interrupting her, with an expression of ineffable tenderness, "but why are you thus gaily apparelled--why these robes--these jewels--my love?" "it seemed to me, my dear husband," she readily replied, "that some invisible power assured me of your return to life. how, thought i, can i meet my beloved chuang-tsze, in the garments of heaviness? no; it will be like a return of our wedding day; and thus, you see, i have resumed my bridal array, and the jewels you gave me, during our honeymoon."--"ah," said the philosopher, "how considerate you are--you always had your thoughts about you." he then drew near the table. the wedding taper, which was then burning low in its socket, cast its equivocal rays upon the gorgeous bowls and dishes, which covered the festal board. chuang-tsze surveyed them attentively, in silence; and, calling for warm wine, deliberately drained the goblet, while the lady stood near him, trembling with confusion and terror. at length, setting down the goblet, and pointing his finger--"look behind you!" he exclaimed. she turned her head, and beheld the young disciple, in his wedding finery, with his attendant--a second glance, and they were gone. such was the power of this mighty master of magic. the wife slunk to her apartment; and, resolving not to survive her shame and disappointment, unloosened her wedding girdle, and ascending to the garret, hung herself therewith, to one of the cross-beams, until she was dead. tidings were soon brought to chuang-tsze, who, deliberately feeling her pulse, and ascertaining that she was certainly dead, cut her down, and placed her precious remains, in the coffin, in the old smoke-house. he then proceeded to indulge his philosophical humor. he sat down, among the flickering lamps, at the solitary board, and struck up a dirge, accompanying his voice, by knocking with the chopsticks, and whatever else was convenient to his purpose, upon the porcelain bowls and dishes, which he finally broke into a thousand pieces, and setting fire to his mansion, he consumed it to ashes, together with the smoke-house, and all its valuable contents. he then, abandoning all thoughts of taking another wife, travelled into the recesses of latinguin, in pursuit of his old master, laoukeun, whom, at length, he discovered. there he acquired the reputation of a profound philosopher; and lay down, at last, in the peaceful grave, where wicked widows cease from troubling, and weary widowers are at rest. no. cxxii. a grasshopper was not the crest of peter faneuil's arms. i formerly supposed it was; for a gilded grasshopper, as half the world knows, is the vane upon the cupola of faneuil hall; and a gilded grasshopper, as many of us well remember, whirled about, of yore, upon the little spire, that rose above the summer-house, appurtenant to the mansion, where peter faneuil lived, and died. that house was built, and occupied, by his uncle, andrew; and he had some seven acres, for his garden thereabouts. it was upon the westerly side of old _treamount_ street, and became the residence of the late william phillips, whose political relations to the people of massachusetts, as their lieutenant governor, could not preserve him from the sobriquet of _billy_. i thought it not unlikely, that peter's crest was a grasshopper, and that, on that account, he had become partial to this emblem. but i am duly certified, that it was not so. the selection of a grasshopper, for a vane, was made, in imitation of their example, who placed the very same thing, upon the pinnacle of the royal exchange, in london. the arms of the faneuils i have seen, upon the silver castors, which once were peter's own; and, upon his decease, became the property of his brother, benjamin, from whom they descended to his only daughter, mary faneuil, who became, october , , the wife of george bethune, now deceased; and was the mother of george bethune, esquire, who will complete his eighty-second year, in april, . from this gentleman, whose grand-uncle peter faneuil was, and from other descendants of old benjamin faneuil, of rochelle, i have received some facts and documents--interesting to me--possibly to others. in conversation with an antiquarian friend, not long ago, we agreed, that very much less was generally known of peter faneuil, than of almost any other great, public benefactor. his name, nevertheless, is inseparably associated, with the cradle of american liberty. drs. eliot and allen, in their biographical dictionaries, have passed him over, very slightingly, the former finishing up this noble-hearted huguenot, with fifteen lines; and the latter, with eight; while not a few of their pages have been devoted, to the very dullest doctors of the drowsiest theology, and to-- "names ignoble, born to be forgot." mr. farmer, in his genealogical register, does not seem to be aware, that the name of faneuil existed, for he has not even found a niche for it there. his register, i am aware, purports to be a register of the "_first settlers_." but he has found room for the baudouins (bowdoins) and their descendants. they also were huguenots; and came hither, with the faneuils, after . one of that family, as will be more fully shown, claude baudoin, presented peter faneuil in baptism. yet, such was the public sense of peter's favors, _when they were green_, that john lovell--that same master lovell, who retired with the british army, in --delivered, under an appointment of the town, an oration, to commemorate the virtues, and laud the munificence of peter faneuil. such, in truth, was the very first occasion, upon which the citizens were summoned to listen to the voice of an orator, in faneuil hall; and then, in honor of him, who perfected the noble work, at his own proper cost, and whose death so speedily followed its completion--for a noble work assuredly it was, relatively to the times, in which it was wrought. the faneuils were huguenots. the original pronunciation of this patronymic must have been somewhat different from the present: there was an excusable _naïveté_, in the inquiry of a rural visitant of the city--if a well known mechanical establishment, with a tall, tubular chimney, were not _funnel_ hall? after the revocation of the edict of nantes, by louis xiv., in , the faneuils, in common with many other huguenots of france,--the baudouins, the bernons, the sigourneys, the boudinots, the pringles, the hugers, the boutineaus, the jays, the laurenses, the manigaults, the marions, the prioleaus, and many others, came to these north american shores--as our pilgrim fathers came--to worship god, in security, and according to their consciences. many of these persecuted men conferred, upon their adopted home, those blessings, which the exercise of their talents, and the influence of their characters, and of the talents and characters of their descendants have confirmed to our common country, for many generations. they came, by instalments, and arrived at different points. thirty families of these expatriated protestants came hither, and settled upon a tract, eight miles square, in the "nipmug country," where now stands the town of oxford, in the county of worcester. this settlement commenced, in gov. dudley's time, and under his particular auspices; but continued only till , when it was broken up, by the inroads of the savages. in the overthrow of this settlement, rum was a material agent, and occasioned, though upon a very small scale, a second massacre of some of these huguenots. there is a letter to gov. dudley, from m. bondet, the huguenot clergyman, dated july , , complaining bitterly of the unrestricted sale, among the indians, of this fatal fire water; and giving a graphic account of the uproar and outrage it produced. after the failure of this attempt, many of the scattered planters collected, in boston. for several years, they gathered, for devotional purposes, in one of the larger school-houses. jan. , , they purchased a piece of land, in south school street, of john mears, a hatter, for "£ current silver money of new england;" but, for several years, the selectmen, for some cause, unknown to us, refused their consent, that these worthy french protestants should build their church thereon. about twelve years after the purchase of the land, the little church--the visible temple--went up. it was of brick, and very small. monsieur pierre daillé was their first pastor, andré le mercier the second; and, if there be any truth, in tradition, these huguenot shepherds were pure and holy men. daillé died testate, may , . his will bears date may , of that year. he directs his body to be interred, at the discretion of his executor, james bowdoin, "_with this restriction, that there be no wine at my funeral, and that none of my wife's relations have mourning cloaths_." he empowers his executor to give them gloves; and scarfs and gloves to all the ministers of boston. to his wife, martha, he gives £ , province bills, and his negro man, kuffy. his latin and french books he gives to the french church, as _the nucleus of a library_. £ to be put at interest for the use of the minister. £ to be improved by the elders, for the use of the church, and should a meeting-house be built, then in aid of that object. to john rawlins the french schoolmaster, £ . he then makes his brother paul, of armsfort, in holland, residuary legatee. his "_books and arms_" were appraised at £ . . the whole estate at £ . . sterling. le mercier dedicated his book, on detraction, to his people. therein he says, "you have not despised my youth, when i first came among you; you have since excused my infirmities; and, as i did the same, in respect to yours, it has pleased our saviour, the head of his church, to favor us with an uninterrupted peace and union in our church, for the almost eighteen years that i have preached the word of salvation to you." his book was published in . he therefore became their pastor between , when daillé died, and . he died march , , aged . he was therefore born in , and ordained about the age of . le mercier's will is dated, at dorchester, nov. , . a codicil was added, at boston, feb. , . he left his estate to his four children, "_andrew, margaret, jane, and my son bartholomew, if living_." he enjoins upon his heirs the payment of bartholomew's debt to thomas hancock, for which he had become responsible, and which he had partly paid. by his will, he appointed jane and margaret to execute his will. in the codicil, he refers to the disordered state of margaret's mind, and appoints zachariah johonnot, in her stead, requesting him to be her guardian. the whole estate was appraised at £ . . . sterling. years rolled on: juxtaposition and intermarriage were americanising these huguenots, from month to month; and, ere long, they felt, less and less, the necessity of any separate place of worship. on the th of may, , "stephen boutineau, the only surviving elder," and others, among whom we recognize the huguenot names of johonnot, packinett, boudoin, and sigourney, conveyed their church and land to thomas fillebrown, thomas handyside peck, and others, trustees for the "new congregational church, whereof mr. andrew croswell is pastor." after a while, this church became the property of the roman catholics; and mass was first celebrated there, nov. , . the catholics, in , having removed to franklin place, the old huguenot church was taken down; and, upon the site of it, a temple was erected, by the universalists; showing incontrovertibly, thank god, that the soil was most happily adapted to toleration. the reader fancies, perhaps, that i have forgotten peter faneuil. not so: but i must linger a little longer with these huguenots, who attempted a settlement in the nipmug country. in the southwesterly part of oxford, there rises a lofty hill, whose summit affords an extensive and delightful prospect. beneath, at the distance of a mile, or more, lies the village of oxford; and the scenery, beyond, is exceedingly picturesque. upon this eminence, which now bears the name of mayo's hill, are the well-defined remains of an ancient fort. its construction is perfectly regular. the bastions are clearly marked; and the old well, constructed within the barrier, still remains. as recently, as , says the rev. dr. holmes, in his able and interesting account of the huguenots, "grapevines were growing luxuriantly, along the line of this fort; and these, together with currant bushes, roses, and other shrubbery, nearly formed a hedge around it. there were some remains of an apple orchard. the currant and asparagus were still growing there." such were the vestiges of these thirty families, who, in , fled from a foe, not more savage and relentless, though less enlightened, than the murderers of coligny, in . the faneuils formed no part of these thirty families; but, not many years after the little oxford colony was broken up, and the fugitive survivors had found their way to boston, the faneuils, one after another, seem to have been attracted hither, from those points of our country, where they first arrived, after the revocation of the edict of nantes, in , or from other, intermediate stations, to which they had removed. there are not elements enough, i fear, for a very interesting memoir of peter faneuil. the materials, even for a brief account, are marvellously few, and far between; and the very best result, to be anticipated, is a warp and woof of shreds and patches. but, if i am not much mistaken, i know more of peter faneuil, than master lovell ever wot of, though he delivered the funeral oration; and, albeit the sum total is very small, it seems but meet and right, that it should be given to the world. i think it would so be decided, by the citizens, if the vote were taken, this very day--in _faneuil hall_. our _neighbors_, all over the united states have heard of _faneuil hall_; and, though, of late years, since we have had a race, or breed, of mayors, every one of whom has endeavored to be _worthier_ or more _conceding_ than his predecessor, faneuil hall has been converted into a sort of omnibus without wheels; yet the glory of its earlier, and of some, among its latter days, is made, thank god, of that unchangeable stuff, that will never shrink, and cannot fade. no man has ever heard of faneuil hall, who will not be pleased to hear somewhat of that noble-minded, whole-souled descendant of the primitive huguenots--and such indeed he was--who came, as a stranger and sojourner here, and built that hall, at his own proper cost and charge, and gave it--the gift of a cheerful giver--to those, among whom he had come to dwell--and all this, in the midst of his days, in the very prime of his life, not waiting for the almond tree to flourish, and for desire to fail, and for the infirmities of age to admonish the rich man, that he must set his house in order, and could carry nothing with him, to those regions beyond. faneuil hall has been called the _cradle of liberty_, so long and so often, that it may seem to savor of political heresy, to quarrel with the name--but, for the soul of me, i cannot help it. if it be intended to say, that faneuil hall is the _birth place_ of liberty, i am not aware of a single instance, on record, of a baby, _born in a cradle_. the proverbial use of the cradle has ever been to rock the baby to sleep; and heaven knows our old fathers made no such use of faneuil hall, in their early management of the bantling; for it was an ever-wakeful child, from the very moment of its first, sharp, shrill, life cry. no. cxxiii. general jackson has been reported--how justly i know not--upon some occasion, in a company of ladies, to have given a brief, but spirited, description of all his predecessors, in the presidential chair, till he came down to the time of president tyler, when, seizing his hat, he proceeded to bow himself out of the room. the ladies, however, insisted upon his completing the catalogue--_"well, ladies," said he, "it is matter of history, and may therefore be spoken--president tyler, ladies, was--pretty much nothing."_ a very felicitous description; and not of very limited application to men and things. i cannot find a better, for master john lovell's funeral oration, upon peter faneuil. this affair, which dr. snow, in his history of boston, calls "_a precious relic_," is certainly a wonderfully flatulent performance. a time-stained copy of the original edition of lies under my eye. i hoped, not unreasonably, that it would be a lamp to my path, in searching after the historical assets of peter faneuil. but not one ray of light has it afforded me; and, with one or two exceptions, in relation to the _hall_, and the general beneficence of its founder, it is, in no sense, more of a funeral oration, upon peter faneuil, than upon peter smink. in their vote of thanks to master lovell, passed on the day of its delivery, the committee speak of "_his oration_," very judiciously abstaining from all unwarrantable expletives. from this oration we can discover nothing of faneuil's birth-place, nor parentage, nor when, nor whence, nor wherefore he came hither; nor of the day of his birth, nor of the day of his death, nor of the disease of which he died; nor of his habits of life, nor of the manner, in which he acquired his large estate; nor of his religious opinions, nor of his ancestors. we collect, however, from these meagre pages, that mr. faneuil meditated other benefactions to the town--that his death was sudden--that votes of thanks had been passed, for his donation of the hall, "a few months before"--that the meeting, at which the oration was pronounced, march , , was the very first annual meeting, in faneuil hall--that peter faneuil was the owner of "a large and plentiful estate"--that "no man managed his affairs with greater prudence and industry"--that "he fed the hungry and clothed the naked; comforted the fatherless and the widows, in their affliction, and his bounty visited the prisoner." master lovell, not inelegantly, observes of faneuil's intended benefactions, which were prevented by his death--"_his intended charities, though they are lost to us, will not be lost to him. designs of goodness and mercy, prevented as these were, will meet with the reward of actions_." this passage appears to have found favor, in the eyes of the late dr. boyle, who has, accordingly, on page , of his memoir of the boston episcopal charitable society, when speaking of faneuil, made a very free and familiar appropriation of it, with a slight verbal variation. master lovell's fervent aspirations, in regard to faneuil hall, one hundred and nine years ago, have not been fulfilled, to the letter. the gods have granted the orator's prayer--"_may liberty always spread its joyful wings over this place_"--but not with master lovell's conditions annexed; for he adds--"_may_ loyalty _to a_ king, _under whom we enjoy that liberty, ever remain our character_." in this particular, master lovell was not to be indulged. yet he steadily adhered to his tory principles; and, like many other conscientious and honorable men, whom it is much less the fashion to abuse, at present, than it was, of yore, adhered to his royal master; and relinquished his own sceptre, as monarch of the south grammar school, with all the honors and emoluments thereof, choosing rather to suffer affliction, with his thwarted and mortified master, than to enjoy the pleasures of rebellion, for a season. he retired to halifax, with the british army, in , and died there, in . original copies of master lovell's oration are exceedingly rare; though the "_precious relic_" has been reprinted, by dr. snow, in his history of boston. the title may be worth preserving--"a funeral oration, delivered at the opening of the annual meeting of the town, march th, . in faneuil hall, in boston. occasioned by the death of the founder, peter faneuil esq. by john lovell, a. m., master of the south grammar school, in boston. _sui memores alios fecere merendo._ boston, printed by green, bushell & allen, for s. kneeland & t. green, in queen street, ." as an eminent historian conceived it to be a matter of indifference, at which end he commenced his history, i shall not adhere to any chronological arrangement, in the presentation of the few facts, which i have collected, relating to peter faneuil and his family. on the contrary, i shall begin at the latter end, and, first, endeavor to clear up a little confusion, that has arisen, as to the time of his death. allen, in his biog. dic., says, that peter faneuil died, march , . i am sorry to say, that, in several instances, president allen's _dates_ resemble jeremiah's _figs_, in the second basket; though, upon the present occasion, he is right, on a certain hypothesis. in a note to the "memoir of the french protestants," also, m. h. c. vol. xxii. p. , peter faneuil is said to have died, march , . pemberton, in his "description of boston," ibid. v. , p. , by stating that the funeral oration was delivered, march , , makes the year of faneuil's death. the title page of the oration itself, quoted above, fixes the death, in . dr. eliot, in his biog. dic., says . the probate records of suffolk show administration granted, on peter faneuil's estate, march , . his _obiit_, on a mourning ring, that i have seen, is . now, if all dealers in dates, of the olden time, would discriminate, between the old style and the new, we should be spared a vast deal of vexation; and the good people of boston, notional as they proverbially are, would not appear, in their creditable zeal to do honor to a public benefactor, to have given him a funeral oration, a twelve month before he was dead. if the year be taken to begin, on the first of january, then dr. allen is right; and peter faneuil died march , . but if it did not begin, till the twenty-fifth of march, and, legally, it certainly did not, before , when the new style was adopted, in great britain, and the provinces, then eliot, and pemberton, and the title page of the oration, and the records of the court, and the mourning ring are right, and peter faneuil died, in . an illustration of this principle may be found, on the title page of the oration itself. it is stated to have been delivered, march , , and printed in . having been delivered near the close of the year , it was printed, doubtless, soon after march , which was new year's day for . the public journals, nevertheless, seem to have adopted, and adhered to the idea, that january , was the first day of the historical year, long before the style was altered; and thus, in the weekly news letter, published in boston, faneuil is stated to have died, in . this journal contains an obituary notice. a few imperfect numbers of this paper are all that remain, and its extreme rarity leads me to copy the obituary here:-- "thursday, march , . on thursday last, dyed at his seat in this town, peter faneuil, esq., whose remains, we hear, are to be enterred this afternoon; a gentleman, possessed of a very ample fortune, and a most generous spirit, whose noble benefaction to this town, and constant employment of a great number of tradesmen, artificers and labourers, to whom he was a liberal paymaster; whose hospitality to all, and secret unbounded chirity to the poor--made his life a public blessing, and his death a general loss to, and universally regretted by, the inhabitants; who had been so sensible of their obligations to him, for the sumptuous edifice, which he raised at his private expence, for their market house and town hall, that, at a general town meeting, as a testimony of their gratitude, they voted, that the place of their future consultations should be called by his name forever: in doing which they perpetuated their own honor as much as his memory; for, by this record posterity will know the most publick spirited man, in all regards, that ever yet appeared on the northern continent of america, was a member of their community." in the boston evening post of march , , in a brief notice of peter faneuil's death, the disease of which he died is said to have been "_dropsey_." now that we have established the period of peter's death, it may be well, to establish the period of his birth; and this we can do, with certainty, even to an hour, from authentic documents. in addition to other means, for ascertaining dates, and various particulars, respecting peter faneuil, and the members of his family--through the kindness of the genealogical society, i have, before me, a folio volume of his commercial correspondence: mutilated, indeed it is, by some thoughtless hand, but furnishes some curious and interesting matter. many of his letters are written in french; and those, which are in english, are well composed. i have found but a single instance, in which he writes our language, like a frenchman. upon that occasion, he was in a passion with a certain judge of the admiralty, complained of his ill usage, and charged him with "_capporice_." no. cxxiv. i am indebted to mr. charles faneuil jones, a grandson of mary ann jones, peter faneuil's sister, for the use of some ancient papers, and family relics; and to george bethune, esquire, of boston, the grandson of _benjamin faneuil_, peter's brother, for the loan of a venerable document--time worn, torn, and sallow--the record of the birth of peter faneuil, and of his brothers and sisters. this document, from its manifest antiquity, the masculine character of the hand writing, and the constant use of the parental expressions--_notre fils_--_notre fille_--i, at first, supposed to be the original autograph of _benjamin_, the father of peter. this conjecture was, of course, demolished, by the last entry, on the record, which is of old _benjamin's_ decease, but in the same peculiar hand. the document is in french; and, after a careful comparison--_literatim_--with the volume of peter's commercial correspondence, now in my possession--i have very little doubt, that this record was copied, by peter, from the paternal original, with the additional entry, by himself, of the date of his father's death. at the bottom, and beneath a line of separation, and by another hand, with a fresher ink, is the following entry--"_le d'aout , m. gillam phillips de boston a epousee ma fille marie faneuil agée de dix sept et quatre mois_." the th of august, , mr. gillam phillips, of boston, married my daughter, marie, aged seventeen and four months. the expression _ma file_, shows this entry to have been made by peter's mother, then the widow of _benjamin_, who appears, by this record, to have died, at new york, march , - , aged years and months. this unusual prænomen, _gillam_, i, at first, supposed to be a corruption of _guillaume_. but there was a merchant, of that day, in boston, bearing the name of _gillam phillips_. in the registry of deeds, for suffolk, lib. , fol. , there is recorded a deed, from "_wentworth paxton, and faith, his wife, formerly faith gillam_," in which, reference is made to faith's father, _benjamin gillam_. mr. gillam phillips is thus named, in the will of his wife's uncle, andrew faneuil, to which i shall have occasion to refer. jan , , peter, in a letter to lane & smethurst, of london, speaks of his brother-in-law, _mr. gillam phillips_. this gentleman was the elder brother of _mr. henry phillips_, who was indicted, for killing mr. benjamin woodbridge, in a duel, fought with swords, and without seconds, on boston common, upon the evening of july , . this extremely interesting affair cannot be introduced, as an episode here, on account of the space it must necessarily occupy. the original documents, relating to this encounter, which terminated in the immediate death of mr. woodbridge, have fallen into my possession; and, as peter faneuil personally assisted, in the escape of the survivor, who found a city of refuge, in rochelle, and a friend and protector, in peter's uncle, _jean faneuil_; it seems, in some degree, related to the history of peter and his kinsfolk. i may, possibly, refer to it hereafter. in , the period of the revocation of the edict of nantes, there were living, in or near rochelle, in france, three brothers and two sisters of the faneuil family. one of these, _benjamin_, became the father of _our_ peter faneuil--the others, his uncles and aunts, when the persecution commenced, so ably and touchingly described, by james saurin, fled for safety to foreign lands. andrew, the elder brother, escaped into holland, and took up his abode in amsterdam; where he married that preëminently beautiful lady, whose portrait is now in the possession of col. benjamin hunt, whose mother was jane bethune, a daughter of mary faneuil, the neice of peter. _andrew faneuil_, before many years, came to this country--precisely when, i cannot say. that he was here, as early as , is evident, from the proposals of oliver noyes and others, to build a wharf from the bottom of king street, to low-water mark, "of the width of king street, between mr. east apthorp's and mr. andrew faneuil's." these proposals are dated feb. , , and are inserted in dr. snow's history of boston, p. . in holland, doubtless, andrew acquired that passion, for flowers, which he gratified, in his seven-acre eden, on the westerly side of treamount street, where he is said to have erected the first hothouse, that ever existed in new england. his warehouse, the same, by him devised, for the support of the minister of the french church, was at the lower end of king street, near merchant's row, from which butler's wharf then extended, as laid down, by john bonner, in . this warehouse, under the will of andrew, reverted, to his heirs, upon the extinction of the french church. it was then, just where we find it, in the new england weekly journal, of jan. , . "_good new york flower. to be sold, at mr. andrew faneuil's warehouse, at the lower end of king street, at s per hundred, as also good chocolate, just imported._" he was engaged in commerce; and, for those days of small things, acquired a large estate, which his forecast taught him to distribute, among the public funds of france, england, and holland. his warehouse was purchased of one of his descendants, by the late john parker. _jean faneuil_, another of peter's uncles, held fast to the faith of his fathers; and lived, and died, a roman catholic. he died in rochelle, of apoplexy, june , , about four months after the decease of his brother andrew, as appears by peter's letter of sept. , . _susannah faneuil_ also continued, in the roman catholic faith, and remained in rochelle; where she became the wife, and the widow, of abraham de la croix. she survived her brother andrew, the date of whose decease is clearly shown to have been feb. , , by peter's letter to s. & w. baker, of london, giving them the inscription, "_for the handsomest mourning rings_." _jane faneuil_ was a huguenot. she became the wife of pierre cossart, and took refuge, with her husband, in ireland, where she died. _benjamin faneuil_, the father of _our_ peter, was closely associated with that little band of huguenots, who clustered about the town of narragansett, otherwise called kingstown, and the region round about, at the very close of the seventeenth century. in that village, in , he married a french lady, whose name was anne bureau. the record, in peter's transcript from his father's original, is now upon my table--"_le de juillet . benjamin faneuil et anne bureau ont eté marié a narragansett, en nouvelle angleterre, en la maison de mons. pierre ayross, par mons. pierre daillé ministre de l'eglise francoise de boston_." the th of july, , benjamin faneuil and ann bureau were married at narragansett, in new england, at the house of mr. peter ayross, by mr. peter daillé, minister of the french church in boston. three years before, in , sept. , the name of this benjamin faneuil will be found, m. h. c., xxii. , attached to a certificate, in favor of gabriel bernon, referring to the massacre of john johnson and his three children, at new oxford. johnson had married the sister of old _andré sigournay_. this _benjamin faneuil_, the præpositus, or stirps, became the father of eleven children, by his wife, _anne bureau_, who were all born in new rochelle, in the state of new york, and of whom _our_ peter was the first born. their names, in the order of birth, are these--_peter_, _benjamin_, _francis_, _anne_, _anne_, _marie_, _john_, _anne_, _susannah_, _mary anne_, and _catherine_. the two first annes, john, and catherine, died in infancy. the birth of our peter is thus chronicled, in the family record--"_le de juin, , estant jeudy a heures du soir est né nostre fils pierre faneuil, et a eté baptisé le juillet, par m. peyret, ministre de l'eglisse francoise de la nouvelle york, presenté au bâpteme par m. claude baudoin et par sa mere_." the th of june, , being thursday, at o'clock in the evening, was born our son, peter faneuil, and he was baptized the th of july, by mr. peyret, minister of the french church, in new york; presented in baptism, by mr. claude bowdoin and its mother. _benjamin_, _our_ peter's brother, was born dec. , . he was a merchant in boston, about the time of his uncle andrew's death, in . shortly after that event, he went to england, and france, and returned, about two years before the death of his brother peter, in - , upon whose estate he administered. his nephew, edward jones, in a letter to his mother, june , , informs her, that "_uncle faneuil seems to be growing very low; i think he will not continue long_." he was then in his eighty-second year. he died in october, . after peter's death, benjamin resided in brighton, then cambridge, in the street, which now bears the family name, where he erected an expensive mansion, successively occupied, after his decease, by messieurs bethune, english, parkman, and bigelow. by his wife, mary cutler, he had three children, benjamin, mary, and peter. _this_ benjamin, nephew of _our_ peter, is the "_benjamin faneuil, junior_," whose name appears, among the signers of the "_loyall address_" to gov. gage on his departure oct. , . he left boston for halifax, with the british army, in march, . he is the person, referred to, by ward, in his memoirs of curwen--"_the merchant of boston, and with joshua winslow, consignee of one third of the east india company's tea, destroyed in , a refugee to halifax, afterwards in england_." he married jane, daughter of addington davenport, by his first wife, jane, who was the daughter of grove hirst, and sister of the lady mary pepperell; and, with his wife, lived many years, abroad, chiefly in bristol, england, which became the favorite resort of many refugees, and where he died. i have, in my possession, several of his letters, written to his relatives, during his exile. these letters are spiritedly written; and, to the very last, in the most perfect assurance, that the colonies must submit. _mary_, _our_ peter's niece, became the wife of george bethune, oct. , , and died in . a portrait, by blackburn, of this beautiful woman, is in the possession of her son, george bethune, esquire, of boston. after a very careful inspection of this portrait, not long ago, i went directly to the rooms of the historical society, to compare it with the portrait there of her uncle peter, to which it seems to me to bear a strong family resemblance. this portrait of peter was presented to the society, by miss jones, the grand niece of _our_ peter, now the wife of dr. cutter of pepperell. it has been erroneously ascribed to copley. if its manifest inferiority to the works of that eminent master were not sufficiently germaine to this question--copley was born in , and not quite five years old, when peter faneuil died. _peter_, the youngest child of benjamin, and, of course, the nephew of _our_ faneuil hall peter, who may be otherwise distinguished, as peter the great--was baptized, in trinity church, in boston, in , and entered the latin school, in . he entered into trade--went to montreal--failed--resorted to the west indies--and, after his father's death, returned to boston. no. cxxv. let us conclude our post mortem examination of the brothers and sisters of peter faneuil. _francis_, the third son of _benjamin_, the old rocheller, peter's father, was born aug. , , of whom i know nothing, beyond the fact, that he was baptized, by m. peyret, minister of the french church in new york, and presented "_par son grand pere, francois bureau, et mad'selle anne delancey_." _mary_, the eldest sister of _our_ peter, that came to maturity, was born april , , and is the _marie_, to whom i have already referred, as having married mr. gillam phillips, aug. , . their abode, before the revolution, was in the mansion, more recently occupied by abiel smith, at the corner of state and devonshire streets; or, as they are called, on bonner's plan of , king street and pudding lane. her husband was a refugee. after his death, she resided in cambridge, mass., where she died, in april, . _anne_, the next, in order of time, was born oct. , , and married addington davenport. this fact is stated, by peter, in a letter, of sept. , . this is the same gentleman, undoubtedly, to whom the ancient record of king's chapel refers: "_oct. , . voted, that the brass stand for the hourglass be lent to the church at scituate, as also three diaper napkins, provided the rev. mr. addington davenport, their minister, gives his note to return the same_," &c. he was, afterwards, promoted, to be assistant minister of king's chapel, in , and rector of trinity church, in , and was, probably, the son of addington davenport, who was the register of deeds, for suffolk, in . _susannah_, the third sister of _our_ peter, in the order of birth, was born march , , and became the wife of james boutineau, the son of stephen boutineau, that "_only surviving elder_," who joined in the conveyance of the french church, in . james was a royalist; and, according to ward's curwen, died in exile. this marriage is also referred to, by peter, in his letter of sept. , . mr. james boutineau was a lawyer, in boston; and occupied the "_old dorr house_," so called, in milk street. mr. sabine, in his "american loyalists," says _his fate is unknown, but he was in england, in _. an original letter from his widow, "_susanna boutineau_," now before me, is dated _bristol, eng., feb. , _, and refers to the recent decease of her husband there. _mary ann_ was the last of peter's sisters, that survived her infancy. she was born april , , and died october, . she became the wife of john jones, who died at roxbury, in , and whose son, edward, died in boston, in , at the age of . _she_ was a refugee; and resided, for some time, in windsor, nova scotia. she is omitted by mr. sabine, in his list of refugees; but named by ward, page . a letter, from her son, edward, dated at boston, june , , advises her, if desirous of returning, not to come directly to boston, as the law was still in force; but first, to some other state, and thence to boston. such were peter faneuil's brothers and sisters; with whom, so far as i have been able to ascertain, from his correspondence, and from all other sources, he appears to have maintained an amiable and becoming relation, as the file leader of the flock--the elder brother of the house: and it speaks a folio volume, in favor of benjamin's equanimity, that he continued to fraternize, as the correspondence abundantly proves, that he did, in the most cordial and affectionate manner, with his brother peter, to whom uncle andrew had, with the exception of a few legacies, willed the whole of his "_large and plentiful estate_," as master lovell calls it--while five vindictive shillings were all, that were found, after the death of this unforgiving, old gentleman, in the mouth of poor benjamin's sack. uncle andrew's testamentary phraseology, though not so anathematical, as that of some other obstinate, old uncles, is sufficiently uncivil, and even bitter, in relation to his "loving sister, susannah," and his nephew, benjamin. but, of the will of andrew faneuil, and his motive--an exceedingly preposterous motive, to be sure, for cutting his adopted nephew off, with five shillings--in other words, of the cause, manner, and instrument, whereby benjamin was put in the ablative, i shall treat, more fully, hereafter. there were collaterals of the boston faneuils, residing in st. domingo, in . there was then, in that island, a benjamin faneuil, to whom peter addressed a letter of mere friendship, in the french language, informing him, that peter's brother benjamin was then in europe. it was probably a son of the st. domingo benjamin, the "_monsieur fanneuil_," of whom washington writes to the president of congress, feb. , , sparks, iv. , as having memorialized, for leave to raise and command troops. the application failed, principally, on the ground of his entire ignorance of the english language. we have seen, that peter faneuil died, at the early age of forty-two. his premature decease becomes the more remarkable, when contrasted with the longevity of all his brothers and sisters, who lived beyond the period of infancy. marie attained the age of seventy--susannah was living, in bristol, at seventy-two--mary ann died at seventy-five--benjamin died, in october, , being two months less than eighty-four years old. this veteran had been a generous liver, all his days. he was not a man, whose devotion was abdominal--whose god was his belly. he was no anchorite, but an advocate for social worship--he was preëminently hospitable. for more than forty years, from the period, when peter's death afforded him the means, his hospitality had been a proverb--a by-word--but never a reproach. there was a refinement about it--it was precisely such hospitality, as apicius would have practised, had apicius been a bishop. his appetite never forsook him. he died suddenly--ate a cheerful dinner, on the day of his death--and went not to his account, on an empty stomach. a post mortem examination, under the autopsy of that eminently shrewd, and most pleasant, gentleman, dr. marshall spring of watertown, exhibited the whole gastric apparatus, in admirable working order, for a much longer campaign. a nephritic malady occasioned his decease. the death of benjamin faneuil, _the elder_, in , and the previous adoption of his son benjamin, peter's brother, by andrew, the wealthy boston uncle, naturally turned the thoughts of the family, in this direction. their interest in boston was necessarily increased, by the marriage of sister marie with mr. gillam phillips, and her consequent removal hither. the entry of the marriage--"_ma fille_"--on the family record, shows, that her mother was then living. the time of her death i have not ascertained, but suppose it to have occurred within a year or two after, for all the daughters were wending hither, and i find no mention of the mother. peter was here, as early, as , in which year, his name is associated, with the duel, in which woodbridge was killed. anne had married mr. davenport, and susannah mr. boutineau, before uncle andrew's death, in . his will was dated, in . from that document, it is evident, that mary ann was here then. the elder benjamin having died, in ,--andrew, his brother, in ,--and peter, in - , there were living peter's brother and sisters, benjamin, anne, susannah, marie, and marianne. they were living, during the revolution. so were their husbands, excepting mr. addington davenport, who died sept. , . their children also were living. the object of this particular statement is to invite the reader's attention to the extraordinary fact, that, while a religious persecution, in , drove the huguenot ancestors of these very individuals hither, for security--in , a political persecution here drove many of their descendants into exile, and confiscated their estates. that very many of those refugees, during the phrensy of political excitement, were just as truly persecuted, for conscience' sake, as were the huguenots, in , is a simple truth, which the calm, impartial voice of an after-age has been willing to concede. among those refugees, the huguenot and the old anglo-saxon patronymics are blended together. the boutineaus and the bethunes, the faneuils and the johonnots are mingled with the sewalls and the hutchinsons, the hollowells and the paxtons. while perusing the letters of samuel curwen--and a most kind-hearted, conscientious, old gentleman was he--the veriest saint in crape cannot restrain a smile, as he contemplates the conflict, in curwen's mind, between the loyal and the patriotic--_his most gracious majesty, and his poor bleeding country_! mr. curwen met frequently with mr. benjamin faneuil, peter's nephew, at bristol. thus, on page , of the journal, under date, april , --"_afternoon and evening at judge sewall's; company, mrs. long, of ireland, mr. and mrs. faneuil, mr. oxnard, with young inman and his wife, a son of ralph's, in the military line, and miss inman_." the more intelligent of the refugees, who resorted to bristol, hovered about the former attorney general of massachusetts, jonathan sewall, as their _magnus apollo_. of all the new england tories he was the most illustrious. he was a man of eminent talents, and easy eloquence. his opinions were the opinions of the rest. as crowed the great tory cock, so crowed the bantams, the faneuils, the boutineaus, and the others, around the attorney general's hospitable board, at bristol. i mean not to intimate, that this worthy gentleman maintained, at this period, anything, beyond the most frugal hospitality. he and his associates were mainly dependent upon the british government, for their daily bread. one or two extracts from the letters of "_benjamin faneuil junior_," peter's nephew, while they establish this fact, may serve to exhibit the confidence, in the entire subjugation of the colonies, entertained--_cherished_, perhaps--by him and his companions. march , , he writes to his aunt, mary ann jones, at halifax, thus--"i cannot say i am very sorry, for your disappointment, in missing your passage for england, for unless you could bring a barrel of guineas, you are much better anywhere than here." * * * * "as soon as the christmas holidays were over, we presented a petition to the lords of the treasury, setting forth our suffering, and praying for a support, till the affairs in america are settled. this method was taken, by the council, and indeed by all the refugees. within these few days, the lords of the treasury have agreed to allow, for the present, chief justice oliver £ a year, lieut. governor oliver and mr. flucker £ . the council (mr. boutineau among the rest) £ , the refugees in general £ , some only £ . our affair is not yet absolutely determined, on account of lord north's sickness; but we are told we shall be tuckt in, between the council and the refugees, and be allowed £ a year. this is a very poor affair, and we can by no means live upon it: but there are such a confounded parcel of us, to be provided for, that i am told no more will be allowed." * * * * "should there be any opportunity of writing to boston, i should take it kind, if cousin betsey would write to my father and let him know what i now write, and give our loves to mr. bethune's family, and my aunt phillips. i do not mention my poor mother, as, from the accounts i have received, i doubt, whether she be alive at this time." she died in october, . "when we shall be able to return to boston i cannot say; but hope and believe it will not exceed one year more; for, sooner or later, america will be conquered, and on that they may depend." may , . he writes from london thus--"we were promised, three months ago, that some provision should be made for us; and, about ten days since, we were assured, at the treasury, that, in a very few days, something should be done for us. as soon as there is, we propose to set out for bristol, and fix ourselves there, or, at least, in that part of the country, till the american affairs are settled, which, from the last advice from new york, we flatter ourselves will not be longer than this year; though i am not without my doubts, at least as to the time: but submit they must, sooner or later. mr. boutineau and my aunt were very well, at their lodging, at bristol, a few days ago. mr. robinson has bought himself a new post chaise, horses, &c., and sets out for wales, in five or six days; where, i suppose, they will remain, till the american affairs are brought to a conclusion." this mr. robinson was james boutineau's son-in-law, the officer of the customs, who inflicted that fatal blow, upon james otis, which is said to have affected his brain, and compelled him to retire from public life. the issue of that affair is not generally known. mr. sabine, in his "american loyalists," p. , says--"the jury assessed £ sterling, damages. boutineau appeared, as attorney, for robinson, and, in his name, signed a submission, asking the pardon of otis, who, thereupon, executed a free release for the £ ." the same statement may be found in allen, and elsewhere. mr. benjamin faneuil, junior, continues thus--"mrs. faneuil received a letter, a few days since, from mrs. erving (at bristol). she sends her the prices of provisions, which are much the same they were in boston, before the troubles came on. * * * * miss peggy hutchinson has been at death's door. * * * * all the rest of us yankees are well, but growl at each other most confoundedly, for want of money." * * * * "we hope to see you in boston, in the course of another year." * * * * "mrs. faneuil is sitting by me, trying to transmography an old gown. no money to buy new." no. cxxvi. to some persons it has appeared a mystery, how peter faneuil, having had but a short lease of life, some two and forty years, should have acquired the "_large and plentiful estate_," that master lovell speaks of, in his funeral oration. this mystery is readily explained. he had, for several years, before the death of his uncle, andrew, been engaged in commerce. as master lovell justly observes--"no man managed his affairs with greater prudence and industry." his commercial correspondence proves that his relations were extensive and diversified, though it must be admitted, that _rum, fish, sugar and molasses_, are the chorus, or burden, of the song. it will also appear, that the _large and plentiful estate_, was, probably overrated. though he had a high sense of commercial honor, no man had a sharper eye for the main chance, as it is called, by money getting men. let me illustrate both these positions, by extracts--not from "_peter's letters to his kinsfolks_," but from peter's letters to his correspondents. he repeatedly scolds signor miguel pacheco de silva, and monsieur sigal, severely, for inattention to his drafts. to s. & w. baker, of london, who, by reason of the informality of a power to transfer stock, were unsupplied with funds, to meet his drafts, yet paid them, for the honor of the drawer; he writes a letter of cordial thanks, sept. , , in which he says--"_i would not for £ you had not accepted all those drafts; for, if you had not, it would have been a slur to my character, which i value more than all the money upon earth_." january , , he requests mr. peter baynton to advise him, on several points--"_also what good french brandy is worth, and if it be possible to cloak it so, as to ship it for rum_." on the th of march, in the same year, he writes mr. peter baynton, that he has sent him four hogsheads of brandy, and adds--"_pray be as cautious as possible, in taking them on shore, by reason the man has signed bills of lading, for four hogsheads rum, not knowing the contents, which it is not convenient he should_." what a goodly number will openly pronounce peter a very bad fellow, who, if they have not done this identical thing, have done things, quite as exceptionable, or more so, and who are willing to-- "compound for sins they are inclined to, by damning those they have no mind to." merchant princes, if i am rightly instructed, do not place the offence of cheating the government, in the category of cardinal, or unpardonable, sins. and, notwithstanding all, that we so frequently hear, of commercial integrity, and the chivalry of trade; i rather doubt, upon the whole, if traffic is really the "_ne plus ultra strap_," upon which the very finest possible edge can be given to the moral sense. exceptions there are, but they only establish, more fully, the general rule: and, in accordance with the spirit of the old, prudential legend, we are rather too much in the habit of postponing prayers, till we have sanded the sugar, and watered the molasses. i have long entertained the opinion, that a cheap _vade mecum_ edition of dr. chalmers' commercial discourses, for new year's gifts, might be very beneficially distributed. exceptions certainly there are. i have one, within my own memory. the collector of a southern port--a huguenot withal--of whom my personal recollections are exceedingly agreeable, and whose integrity was a proverb, was surprised one day, upon his return, at the dinner hour, by the display of a costly service of plate, which his lady had procured from london. a few inquiries developed the fact, that, by the agency of a gentleman, a friend of the family, it had been gotten over, with _his_ baggage, duty free--in other words, _smuggled_. in an instant, the old gentleman ordered his wife's whole service of silver to the public stores; and seized it for the government. such cases, i apprehend, are not of frequent occurrence. if peter faneuil made not broad his phylactery, he made broad that mantle of charity, which covereth a multitude of sins. if such had not been the fact, and notoriously so, master lovell would not have ventured to proclaim, in faneuil hall, one hundred and eight years ago, and before a scanty population, as cognizant, as the population of a village, of all the shortcomings of their neighbors that-- "_peter's acts of charity were so secret and unbounded, that none but they who were the objects of it could compute the sums, which he annually distributed_"--that "_his alms flowed, like a fruitful river_"--that "_he fed the hungry, clothed the naked, comforted the fatherless, and the widows in their affliction, and his bounty visited the prisoner. so that almighty god, in giving riches to this man, seems to have scattered blessings all abroad among the people_"--that the building "_erected by him at an immense charge, for the convenience and ornament of the town, is incomparably the greatest benefaction ever yet known to our western shoar_"--that this act of munificence, however great, "_is but the first fruits of his generosity, a pledge of what his heart, always devising liberal things, would have done for us, had his life been spared_." to all this good master lovell adds the assertion--"_i am well assured from those, who were acquainted with his purposes, that he had many more blessings in store for us, had heaven prolonged his days_." these statements, publicly pronounced, one hundred and eight years ago, have never been gainsayed, nor even qualified. they must therefore be viewed, in the light of an ancient deposition, read before the grand inquest of the whole people, before whom peter faneuil was tried, shortly after his decease, according to the fashion of the egyptians, while dealing with their departed kings. i, by no means, approve of peter's conduct, in jostling the government, out of the excise, on a few casks of brandy; but, in full view of all these public and private charities, there seems to be something about it, like the gallantry of robin hood, whose agrarian philosophy taught him to rob the rich, and feed the poor. and, when the trial comes on, in the higher court, about the duties upon these four hogsheads of brandy; and peter baynton is summoned to testify; and, upon his evidence, peter faneuil is convicted; most truly, do i believe, that some good natured angel, will slyly draw, over the record, a corner of that broad mantle of gold and tissue--that mantle of charity--whose warp and woof were formed of private alms and public benefactions, and which good peter faneuil spent so many of his hours, in weaving, in this lower world. if peter faneuil was otherwise an offender, i am sorry for it; having a passion for rarities, i should like to behold the _tabula immaculata_--the unsullied sheet of one human being! i am not aware of anything, in the life of peter faneuil, which that mantle will not abundantly cover. it may be otherwise. if the schoolmaster is not always abroad, the antiquarian is--the moral virtuoso--who delights, metaphorically speaking, to find spots on snow, and specks in amber. this species of antiquarian, male or female, may be found in every city and village. it is a curious creature, and, in the cabinet of a malicious memory, has stowed carefully away the weak points, and the peccadilloes of the living and the dead. in its contracted receptacle, there is no room for public or private charities, nor for merits of any kind: it is capable of holding nothing but delinquencies. nothing is more refreshing to this species of antiquarian, than any fair pretence, for opening his cabinet, and showing his precious collection. nollikens, among his _terra cottas_, was not more adroit, in fitting the heads and members of priapi to the trunks of fauns and satyrs, than is the ingenious character, of whom i speak, in adapting the legendary gossip, which has been told, till it is stale, of one individual, to the person of another. such personages are, characteristically, selfish and ungenerous. it would not be a very notable miracle, if some person, of this description, pained and offended, by the trying contrast, between the munificent and charitable career of peter faneuil, and the extremely dry and unprofitable character of his own existence, should ransack the charnel-house of his memory, for some offensive offset, against master lovell's laudation of peter. for this i can truly vouch, excepting that affair of the brandy, the commercial correspondence of peter faneuil--and i have read the whole volume, that remains, french and english--is highly honorable to the head and the heart of the writer. the charity of peter faneuil was not that clap-trap munificence, examples of which are frequently heralded, among us, in demi-stipendiary journals--it did not so truly _spring_--it _oozed_ from peter's warm heart, continually, and constitutionally. he required no impressive hints, to be charitable--he _felt_ for the poor and needy, habitually. his letter of sept. , , is before me, to one of his commercial correspondents, to whom he has just then made a shipment, mons. thomas bayeaux--"inclosed you have madame guinneau's account, by which you are indebted to that poor widow £ , which you will do well to pay her, it being for money she advanced, for the board of you and your family. one would have thought you should have paid that, before you left the country, and not to have served the poor widow as you did." however direct, and even severe, while addressing delinquents, his french politeness never forsakes him. such letters always conclude--"_sir, i salute you_," or "_i kiss your hand_." april , , he writes thus to peter baynton--"this accompanies capt. burgess hall, who carries with him to your parts two unfortunate palatine women, that were some time ago shipwrecked, in their voyage from europe to your place, who, being objects of charity, which the providence of god has thrown in our way, i take leave to recommend to you, as such, not doubting you will so far commisserate their condition, as to direct them the nearest way, to get among their friends, with such other relief as you may think necessary." though peter faneuil had acquired property, before the death of his uncle andrew; yet, as we shall presently see, by far the larger part of his "_large and plentiful estate_" came to him, by that uncle's will. no. cxxvii. peter faneuil was thirty and seven years old, when he began to reign--that is, when his uncle, andrew, died, feb. , , according to peter, in his letter to the bakers, of london, or , agreeably to the historical style, adopted by the public journals. in the news letter of february " , to ," we have the following account of the funeral.--"last monday the corpse of _andrew faneuil_ esquire, whose death we mentioned in our last, was honorably interr'd here; above persons, of all ranks, besides the mourners, following the corpse, also a vast number of spectators were gathered together on the occasion, at which time the half-minute guns, from on board several vessels, were discharged. and 'tis suppos'd that as this gentleman's fortune was the greatest of any among us, so his funeral was as generous and expensive as any that has been known here." peter was appointed executor sole of andrew's will, and residuary legatee. he appears to have proceeded with great propriety. he immediately announced his uncle's death to foreign correspondents; and furnished those, who had been custodiers of his property, with duly authenticated copies of the will; and took prompt measures, for the procurement of "_the handsomest mourning rings_." john, archbishop of canterbury, as was usual then, sent his commission to judge willard, from the prerogative court, to swear peter, to render a true inventory, &c.; and peter responded to john, that, although he was not bound so to do, by the laws of the province, yet, for his "_own satisfaction_," he should. peter probably changed his mind, for no inventory of andrew's estate appears, among the ancient records of the probate court, in suffolk. it is not, therefore, possible, to estimate the value of that "_large and plentiful estate_," which came to peter, from his uncle. that it was very considerable, for the times, there cannot be a doubt; but the times--one hundred and fourteen years ago--were the days of small things. it has been observed, by an eminent man, that prayer and almsgiving are the pathways to paradise. andrew faneuil commences his will, with a supplication, for the _perfecting of his charities_--"_i commit my soul to god, the father, son, and holy ghost, humbly begging the pardon of my sins, the perfecting of my charities, and everlasting life above_." this will was made, sept. , , and witnessed, by john read, william price and charles morris; and a codicil was added, jan. , ; and both were proved, feb. , , two days after the testator's death. wills have ever been accounted an interesting department of _belles lettres_; and i shall therefore furnish the reader with an abstract of uncle andrew's. _first._ he gives his warehouse in boston, in trust, to the minister of the french church, in boston, and his successors; two thirds of the income for the minister's support, and one third to the elders, to create a fund for repairing the warehouse; and after the creation of such fund, the whole income to the minister; and, should the french church cease to be, then said warehouse to revert to his heirs--"_excluding benjamin faneuil, of boston, and the heirs of his body forever_." _secondly._ to said french church, three pieces of plate, of the value of £ sterling, "_a flaggon for the communion table, a plate for the bread, and a bason to christen the children, with the coat of arms and name of the donor, engraven upon each of them_." on the th of february, fourteen days after his uncle's death, peter sent a copy of the will to claude fonnereau, in france, requesting him to purchase the plate, and added--"_of the best fashion, and get engraved, agreeably to his orders, for which end you have his coat of arms in wax herewith, and if it should cost some small matter more, be pleased to charge the same_." _thirdly._ £ , in province bills, to be paid to the elders, for the poor of the french church. _fourthly._ £ , in province bills, and "_a suit of mourning throughout_," to the french minister. _fifthly._ £ , in province bills, to the overseers, for the poor of boston. _sixthly._ to the rev. benjamin colman, "_a suit of mourning throughout_." _seventhly._ "to my loving brother, john faneuil, of rochelle, £ , sterling." _eighthly._ "to my loving brother-in-law, peter cossart, of cork, in ireland, and his sister susannah cossart, of amsterdam, £ each to buy mourning." _ninthly._ "to benjamin faneuil of boston, son of my brother, benjamin faneuil, deceased, _five shillings and no more_." _tenthly._ to his executor, in trust, ounces of silver, or pieces of eight, to purchase an estate of inheritance, at his discretion, within one year after the testator's death, for his loving niece, mary, wife of gillam phillips, and the heirs of her body, remainder to her right heirs. peter, in correspondence with s. & w. baker, refers to this purchase, and directs them to sell stocks of his late uncles, to meet the drafts. _eleventhly_. to her son, andrew, ounces of silver, or pieces of eight, to be put at interest, till majority--to his mother, in case of his death before--and, in case of _her_ death and _his_ before--to her other children. _twelfthly, thirteenthly, and fourteenthly._ to his nieces, anne, susannah, and marian, £ sterling, each; the two first to be paid six months, after his death, and the last, at majority, or marriage; four per cent. to be allowed her, per annum, ad interim, and she to be maintained by the executor, till she attained full age, or married. these legacies were paid from the funds of uncle andrew, in the hands of s. & w. baker, of london. _fifteenthly._ to his loving sister, susannah f., widow of abraham de la croix, of rochelle, £ sterling. _sixteenthly._ to his servant maid, _hendrine boyltins_, who probably came, with the family, from holland, "_a suit of mourning throughout_," and ounces of silver, in pieces of eight, or the value, in province bills, at her election. _seventeenthly._ to henry johnson, her son, who became the confidential clerk of peter faneuil, ounces, in pieces of eight, to be paid, at majority. _eighteenthly._ "i give, bequeath, and devise all the rest of my estate, both real and personal, whatsoever and wheresoever 'tis, in new england, great britain, france, holland, or any other part of the world, to my loving nephew, peter faneuil, eldest son of my late brother, benjamin faneuil, to hold to him and his heirs forever." he then appoints peter, sole executor. the codicil revokes the legacy to his _loving_ sister, the widow susannah de la croix, of rochelle--"my mind and my will is, that my said sister, susannah f., shall not have the said thousand pounds, _nor any part of it_." the severity of these five last words--and the phrase, in relation to his nephew--"_excluding benjamin faneuil of boston, and the heirs of his body forever_;" and those final words of the ninth clause, by which the testator cuts off poor benjamin, with "_five shillings and no more_," are sufficiently piquant. well may such an _avunculus hector_ commence his last will, with a fervent supplication to "god, the father, son, and holy ghost," for _the perfecting of his charities_. how the widow, susannah, came to lose her thousand pounds i do not know. something, that she said or did, or did not say or do, was wafted, all the way over the water, from rochelle, no doubt, and came to the old gentleman's irritable ears, and roused his ire. but i well comprehend the occasion, upon which he came to disinherit his nephew, benjamin faneuil. my female readers have already arrived at the conclusion, doubtless, that benjamin so far forgot himself, and his duty to his opulent, old uncle, as to fall in love without asking his permission. well: they are perfectly right--such was the fact. benjamin fell in love. he was determined not to be found, like tinkling brass, even at the hazard of losing the good will, and the gold of his uncle andrew--so he fell in love. and, if the girl of his heart resembled her daughter, _mary faneuil_, as she is represented by blackburn, how the poor fellow could have helped it, god only knows. there is nothing, in all amboyna, more spicy, than this little incident, in the history of the faneuils; and, having spoilt it, perhaps, by this _avant courier_, i will now venture to tell the story; premising, that it was far better told, by the lady, who related it to me, and who is a lineal descendant of benjamin, himself. to give proper effect to this little episode, i must take the reader to a pretty village, as it was just then beginning to be, one hundred and fifty years ago, on the banks of the hudson, some twenty miles, only, from the city of new york. there, the persecuted huguenots gathered together, and planted their new home, their _new rochelle_. almost immediately after his marriage with anne bureau, in , at narragansett, benjamin faneuil rejoined his huguenot friends, and fellow-townsmen, in _new rochelle_; and there his children were born. _new rochelle_, as i have stated, was the birth-place of peter faneuil. andrew, having arrived in boston from holland, very soon after the beginning of the eighteenth century; having buried his wife; and being childless, selected benjamin, the second son of his brother, benjamin faneuil, as an object of particular regard. the boy, was, accordingly, transferred from new rochelle to boston. he was educated, and brought up, under his patron's eye; and was considered, by the world, as the heir apparent of his opulent uncle. as he grew up, towards man's estate, it would have been an unheard of circumstance, if the dowagers of shawmut, with their marriageable daughters, had not fixed their hopeful eyes, upon young benjamin, if it were only for the sake of whatever might be found, sooner or later, in the mouth of his sack. it would have been a miracle, if their exhibitions of regard, for the young man, had not visibly increased; and their fears had not been frequently and feelingly expressed, lest that excellent, old gentleman, andrew faneuil esquire, had taken cold. a patron is rather too prone to look upon a _protégé_, as a puppet. the idea, that benjamin could be led astray, however tempting the provocation, to commit the crime of matrimony, however lawful and right, however accomplished, and virtuous, and lovely the object, without leave, first had and obtained, from him, at whose board he ate his daily bread, never occurred to uncle andrew, for an instant. he supposed, of course, that he had the key to benjamin's soul. it never occurred to the old gentleman, whose courtship was carried on, in holland, that falling in love was precisely as much of an accident, as falling into the fire, or into the water. well: benjamin was an intelligent young man; and he was admirably posted up, upon the subject of his uncle's opinions, and prejudices. nevertheless, he fell in love, very emphatically; and with a girl, as pretty, doubtless, as she was poor. he knew, that his uncle would never consent to such a marriage. but he knew, that he had plighted his troth; and he clearly saw, since he must run the hazard of breaking _one_ heart, or _two_, that it would be rather more equitable to risk the old gentleman's, instead of the girl's and his own. accordingly, benjamin secretly took unto himself a lawful wife; and, for a while, though benjamin was, doubtless, much the happier, uncle andrew was nothing the wiser. however strange it may appear, though there were no giants, there were mischievous women, in those days. one of this category, in an evil hour, like a toad, as she was, whispered the secret, into the ear of uncle andrew. the old huguenot was not of the melting mood. the conduct of his nephew produced not grief, but anger. it reached no tender spot, in the recesses of his heart, but chafed the old man's pericardium, till it drew a blister there. he bottled up his wrath, and corked it well; that the offender might have the full benefit of the fermentation, when the old gentleman came to pour the contents of the vial, on the devoted head of his unsuspecting nephew. the following morning, they met, at the breakfast table. the meal passed, as usual. but with what feelings must that old man have contemplated the poor fellow, the boy of his adoption, whom he was about to prostrate, as he finished the last mouthful he was ever to partake at that board! the repast was finished.--a brief colloquy ensued--"_i hear you are married_"--"_yes, uncle, i am_"--"_then you will leave my house_." the young man instantly took his departure. they never met again, until years had passed away,--and then, in that place, where there is no work nor device. there they lie, in the faneuil tomb, in the granary ground; the unforgiving uncle and the disinherited nephew, side by side. benjamin faneuil died, at his residence in brighton, in october, , and was buried, in the family vault. no. cxxviii. notwithstanding the "_large and plentiful estate_," which peter faneuil derived from his uncle's will, it is my opinion, that his munificence, his unbounded charities, his hospitalities, his social, genial temperament were such, that, had he lived a much longer life, he would have died a much poorer man. almost immediately, upon the death of his uncle, it is manifest, from his letters, that certain magnificent fancies came over the spirit of his waking dreams. and it is equally certain, that, subsequently, he had occasional misgivings, as to the just relation between his means and his prospective arrangements, which, for the times, and upon our little peninsula, were sufficiently expanded. feb. , , fourteen days after his uncle's death, he announced that event to his commercial friends, messrs. s. & w. baker of london; prescribed the arrangement of funds, for the payment of legacies; and instructed them to honor his draft, in favor of james pope & company, of madeira, in payment for five pipes of wine. four days after, on the first of march, he writes pope & company thus--"send me, by the very first opportunity, for this place, five pipes of your very best madeira wine, of an amber color, of the same sort, which you sent to our good friend, de lancey, of new york." he directs them to draw on the bakers of london, and adds--"as this wine is for the use of my house, i hope you will be careful, that i have the best. i am not over fond of the strongest. i am to inform you, that my uncle, mr. andrew faneuil, departed this life, the current, and was interred the , for which god prepare all his friends. i shall expect to hear from you, by the first opportunity." feb. , , the same day, on which he writes the bakers, he addresses lane & smethurst, of london, as follows--"be so good as to send me a handsome chariot with two sets of harness, with the arms, as enclosed, on the same, in the handsomest manner, that you shall judge proper, but at the same time nothing gaudy: and send me also, well recommended, two sober men, the one, for a coachman the other a gardener; and agree with the same, to be paid either in london, quarterly, or here, allowing for the exchange of the money, which they shall choose. and, as most servants from europe, when here, are too apt to be debauched with strong drink, rum, &c., being very plenty, i pray your particular care in this article." on the th of march, he writes gulian verplanck, of new york--"send me the pipe of wine, having none good to drink." again, march --"by the first good opportunity the best pipe of wine you can purchase." on the th of april, he acknowledges the receipt of the wine from verplanck--"the wine i hope will prove good--comes in very good time, there being none good in town." on the d of may, he writes the bakers, for a bountiful supply of glass and china, and for "enough of the best scarlet cloth to trim a cloak:" and, in september of that year, for silver spoons and "silver forks with three prongs, with my arms cut upon them: let them be made very neat and handsome." shortly after, he writes for several pairs of silver candlesticks, "with my arms engraved thereon," and sends out a piece of wax candle, as a pattern of the size. on the st of january, , he writes lane & smethurst, to send him a pair of spectacles, "for a person of years, as also, for the use of my kitchen, the latest, best book of the several sorts of cookery, which pray let be of the largest character, for the benefit of the maid's reading." as peter then was not quite thirty-eight years of age, the spectacles were probably for "the maid," to enable her to master "the _best book_ of the several sorts of cookery." dec. , , he writes for "four stone horses." on the th of september of that year, he writes thomas kilby--"pray don't forget the larding pins, wine, and sweetmeats, which i have wrote you about before." he frequently writes to his friend verplanck, for "albany horses." in a brief sketch of brighton, published in , it is stated that peter's "_large and heavy silver punch bowl_" is in the possession of george bethune, esquire, of this city. this is an error. peter's punch bowl came into the possession of james lovell, who married a grand-daughter of benjamin faneuil, a sister of mr. bethune; and it is now in the possession of mr. lovell's descendants. oh, if that "_large and heavy silver punch bowl_" could speak out, in good french or english, what glorious tales it would tell of peter, in all his glory, enjoying, as master lovell says, "_that divine satisfaction, which results from communicating happiness to others_"--around that preëminently hospitable board, where, in the language of the writer of the obituary, in the news letter of march , -- "divites ac parvi gustârunt dulcia mensæ." peter's punch bowl was not at all like oliver's "_broken teacups, wisely kept for show_." june , , some twenty months before his death, he writes lane & smethurst, to send him "_six gross of the very best london king henry's cards, and six half chests of lemons, for my house winter supply_." let not the reader surmise, for all this, that peter had denied his lord, or was exclusively absorbed in his care for creature comforts. march , , he writes the bakers, to send him "four handsome, large, octavo, common prayer books, of a good letter and well bound, with one of the same, in french, for my own use." march , , he writes john depuister, to send him "six of the largest bearskins, and two large, fine, well painted beaver coats, to use in a slay." it is, in no sense, discreditable to peter faneuil, that his correspondence shows him to have been exceedingly partial to sweetmeats and citron water. nor does it lower him, in my humble esteem, that his letters clearly indicate his temperament to have been somewhat irritable and fiery. i have found such to be the case, almost ever, when generosity, frankheartedness, and a noble spirit are blended together, as closely as they were, in the character of peter faneuil. the converse of this position, to be sure, it is not easy to maintain. it is quite amusing, to contemplate, now and then, in men, whose brains are brim full of magnificent purposes, and whose habitual dealings are with tens and hundreds of thousands--a remarkable concentration of thought and care, upon some one insignificant item of property, which is in jeopardy of falling into naught. it is, doubtless, the spirit of the woman, who lighted her candle and swept the house, and called her neighbors together, to rejoice with her, over the recovery of that one piece of silver. a brief episode will exhibit this trait, in peter's character, and show, at the same time, that his spirit was perfectly placable. some time before his death, uncle andrew, being aware, that pulmonic affections were benefited, by the air of the tropics, consigned a broken-winded horse to mr. joseph ward, of barbadoes, for sale. no account having been rendered, the fate of the old horse appears to have become a subject of exciting interest, with the residuary legatee. before he writes to ward, he addresses three letters of inquiry, in other directions. he then opens upon mr. joseph ward, jan. , . i give the entire letter, as illustrative of peter's character--"i have been very much surprised, that, ever since the death of captain allen, you have not advised me of the sale of a horse, belonging to my deceased uncle, left in your hands by him, which i am informed you sold for a very good price, and i am now to request the favor you would send me the net proceeds, with a fair and just account for the same, in sweetmeats and citron water; your compliance with which will stop me from giving some of my friends the trouble of calling you to an account there. i shall be glad to know, if captain allen did not leave a silver watch and some fish, belonging to a servant of mine, with some person of your island, and with who. i expect your speedy answer." mr. ward appears to have responded, more calmly, than tropical gentlemen commonly do, when accosted in this piquant style. he sent his account, and peter was manifestly mollified, by a box of sweetmeats. mr. ward, however, complained of peter's want of grace. march , , peter wrote to mr. ward--"yours of february, with the account sales of a horse, left by captain allen, accompanying a box sweetmeats i received, in which i observe you refer to my former, which you are pleased to look upon as in too unhandsome a stile. i must own it was not in so soft terms, as i sometimes make use of; but, at that time, i really thought the state of the case required it, not having heard anything to be depended upon, concerning the horse in dispute, either if he was dead, sold, or run away; upon either of which, i presumed the common complaisance, if not honor, among merchants, might have entitled either my uncle, in his lifetime, or myself, after his decease, to some advice at least. i had indeed transiently heard here you had kept him, for your own use, but had undervalued him, which, in some measure prest my writing you on that head, &c. i thank you for your speedy answer, and am, with return of your own compliment, as much as you are mine," &c. march , .--peter informs m. isaac beauchamp, that, he, peter, has been empowered, by his excellency, m. brouillan, governor of cape breton, to call him to account and says--"i am now to let you know, that out of honor and of the regards i have ever had to that gentleman, i am obliged to see some honorable issue made to that affair, for which reason i shall be glad you will advise me, after what manner you propose to satisfye the gentleman or me, without forcing violente means." this affair was occasioned, by a dispute, about tobacco, and ended in smoke. one brief illustration more. april , , he complains to captain greenou of certain ill usage and says--"you may see what handsome parcell of protested bills i must pay. if this be the honor of you ragon men, god deliver me from them, for the future. i would not take their word for a groat &c. these pretended gentlemen think i will tamely sit down by their unhandsome usage, but they will find themselves very much mistaken," &c. many years ago, while standing by the artist, as he was working up, from the old portrait, belonging to the historical society, the lineaments of peter, as he is represented, in faneuil hall, we agreed, that his temperament must have been choleric. he had that conformation of body, which hints of apoplexy. john, his uncle, the rocheller, died of that disease; and peter, as master lovell inform us, died _suddenly_. he belonged not to any total abstinence society. and though there is no evidence, nor the slightest suspicion, that he fell below that standard of gentlemanly temperance, which was in vogue, among those, who were given to hospitality, in our peninsula, one hundred years ago--yet i have not any reasonable doubt, that peter would have lived longer, had it been the pleasure of his uncle andrew to have disinherited _him_, instead of _his brother benjamin_. no. cxxix. peter faneuil was an affectionate brother. i have it from the lips of benjamin's lineal descendants, who have preserved the tradition, that, after he had sacrificed his hopes of the inheritance, not for a mess of pottage, but for a lovely wife; and peter had been called from new rochelle, to supply his place, as the heir apparent; uncle andrew, probably, without exacting an absolute promise, enjoined it upon peter, to abstain from assisting benjamin; to which injunction peter paid no practical regard whatever; but, like a christian brother, remembered, that old benjamin faneuil and anne bureau had been the father and the mother of them both. the commercial correspondence shows, that peter gave benjamin his confidence and affection. the relation between them plainly demonstrates, that there was no deficiency of kind and generous offices. the ease and intimacy of their friendship will be perceived, by the following note, which i copy literally from the original, in my possession. there was a difference of eighteen months only, in their ages. in this note, which was written, after benjamin's return from europe, peter addresses him, by a cant name. "boston the august, . dear cockey: the occasion of my not sending my chase for you was on account of mr. shirley's receiving of his majties commission last thursday appointing him govr of this province wh. was read the next day, upon which occasion he ask't me to loane of my charrot wh. i granted him till last night, so that i presume will plede my xcuse. i now send you up the chase, to bring you home, and have deliver'd ye coachman some boild beef, a dozen of brown biskett bottles of madera and of frontinan with a dozen of lemmons. your relations and friends are all well, and desire their love and service may be made acceptable to you. pray my compliments to the gentn and ladys with you--and give me leave to assure you that i am, dear cockey, your affectionate brother, peter faneuil." the superscription of this note is torn off, but to benjamin alone can it apply. mr. jones was not married, till after peter's death. his relation to phillips was rather formal; and still more so with boutineau; and he never would have thought of calling his brother addington davenport, the rector of trinity, his _dear cockey_. his letters also record the evidences of his kindness to his sisters, and his attention to their most trifling wishes. nov. , , he writes lynch and blake--"my youngest sister desires, that you wont forget to send her the canary birds, which you promised her, when you was here." may , , he writes lane and smethurst of london--"my sisters have received their things, in good order and to their liking, except the stockings: for the hosier put up white worsted, instead of thread, although the patern was sent. i have sent them back to you to be changed, in the ship union, john homans, master. be pleased to send them, by the first opportunity: viz, for mrs. anne faneuil, pairs thread hose, with worsted clogs, and a pair of galoushoes. mrs. susannah faneuil, pairs thread ditto. mrs. mary anne faneuil, pairs thread stockings, and pairs clogs." it is of small moment, at this late day, whether these ladies wore thread or worsted stockings, one hundred and fourteen years ago; but this ancient example of brotherly regard may not be altogether lost, upon the race of brothers, that has sprung up, during the present century. it is remarkable, that peter, though he applies the title, _mrs._ to each of his sisters, gives them the maiden name. the two, first named, were then the wives of addington davenport and james boutineau; the last, mary ann, afterwards the wife of john jones, was then single. at that early day, the moral sense of the people of the north appears to have been thoroughly asleep, on the subject of slavery. the reverend clergy were no exception from the general rule. after the decease of parson moorhead, in , a slave was sold, among his effects, "at his late residence, near _liberty tree_." jonny moorhead was a cotemporary of peter faneuil, having assumed the charge of the presbyterian church, as it then was, in . the reader will not be startled, therefore, when he comes to be informed, as, in good time he will be, at how many pounds, old tenor, each of peter faneuil's five slaves were appraised, after his decease. slavery was not uncommon then, in the province of massachusetts bay. douglass, in his summary, vol. i. page , states, that in , about seven years before peter's death, the whole number of whites, of years and upwards, in the province, was , ; and of negroes, . feb. , . peter faneuil writes thus, to peter buckley--"herewith you have invoice of six hogsheads fish and eight barrells of alewives, amounting to £ . . , which, when you arrive at antigua, be pleased to sell, for my best advantage, and, with the nett produce of the same, purchase, for me, for the use of my house, as likely a strait negro lad as possibly you can, about the age of from to years; and, if to be done, one that has had the small-pox, who being for my own service, i must request the favor, you would let him be one of as tractable a disposition as you can find, which i leave to your prudent care and management, desiring, after you have purchased him, you would send him to me, by the first good opportunity, recommending him to a particular care, from the captain." i have no doubt, that peter was a kind, considerate master; and, though i have an unconquerable aversion to being the slave of anybody, i had rather have been peter's _born thrall_ than his _uncle andrew_. what a glorious kitchen peter's must have been! my female readers will scarcely find it in their eyelids to be weary, or in their hearts to blame me, for giving them one or two passages more, from peter faneuil's letters; when they are told, that those passages relate to a love affair, in which peter, though not a principal, performed an important part. the faneuils and the jekylls were intimate--so much so, at least, as to bring the jekylls within the circle of those, who, upon uncle andrew's death, were accounted the legitimate recipients of mourning rings. in a letter to mr. joseph jekyll, of jan. , , peter alludes to miss jekyll's extraordinary conduct; and, most happily and truthfully, remarks, that "_there is no accounting for the sex, in affairs of love_." on the same day, he writes mr. richard blacket jekyll--"doubtless, you'll be surprised to find, that, by this opportunity, only your sister, mrs. hannah, of the family, who i hope will arrive safe to you, has the pleasure of seeing you, and her other brothers, in england. i am sorry mrs. mary does not consult her own interest, so much, as i could wish, whose conduct i should say nothing of, were it not out of regard to the family in general. it is now only one month past, since she suffered herself to be published to one mr. linnington, of st. christophers, formerly known here, by the name of my lord linnington, or my lord, whose character, if you remember the man, i need not trouble you with a description of it; but, if you do not, i can only say, that he is a worthless pretender to a great deal of money and wit, without, according to the best account i can learn, any of either: with whom she would, inevitably have been married, had not some other friends joined forces with me, and interposed." "inclosed i send you my letter to her, on that head, and her answer, for your more private satisfaction. that affair being tolerably well over, and captain homan's state-room hired for the two young ladies, and their maid, i had supplied them, according to your desire, with what money they might have occasion for, to fit them out for the voyage, and paid the captain, for their laying in, and tomorrow being the appointed time to go aboard, i was, in the morning, advised mrs. mary had changed her mind, on account of some new proposals of matrimony, made her, by col. saltonstall of haverhill, which sudden alteration i find to be, on examination, from a visit or two, within these two or three days last past, at farthest, but, however, concluded upon and determined, so that she does not come to you," &c., &c. peter proceeds to comment, with great discretion, upon the absence of any reasonable interval, for the heart of miss mary jekyll to recover its due tone and tension, after its first expansion towards _my lord linnington_, and before the second spasm. but, truly, in the language of the anatomist, the heart is a "wonderful muscle." i had surmised a relation of consanguinity between peter faneuil and the late peter chardon brooks, from the fact, that, on the th of march, , peter faneuil writes to the executors of isaac chardon, in south carolina, whom he calls his cousin; and, in that letter, speaks of his cousin, _peter chardon_. but, from the best authority, i have learned, that the name of peter chardon was bestowed, by the rev. edward brooks, formerly of north yarmouth, and more recently of medford, upon his son, _causa amicitiæ_; the rev. mr. brooks and peter chardon, having been classmates, of the year . it was, probably, the father of this peter chardon, whom peter faneuil calls his cousin, in , and the same peter chardon, who is named, on the record, as one of the appraisers of peter faneuil's estate, in - . the name is rare; it occurs once only, on the cambridge catalogue; and, from its rarity, it may not be unreasonable, to look for the _stirps_, on the pages of charlevoix, iii. , who speaks of _peter chardon_, the jesuit, a missionary, among the indians, bordering upon lake michigan, at the very close of the seventeenth century. _our_ peter chardon, the cousin of faneuil, resided in bowdoin square, near the street, that bears his name. after the death of his uncle andrew, peter faneuil, by the power of wealth, in addition to his other qualities, intelligence, industry, and courtesy, necessarily became an influential character; and the use, which he immediately began to make of his wealth, his public spirit, his private benevolence, all conspired to make him an object of very general interest. his hospitalities were unbounded. he associated himself with the episcopal church. he subscribed £ old tenor, £ sterling for the rebuilding of king's chapel, in , and was chosen treasurer of the building fund. his death, in - , put a stop to the project. no money had ever been collected, for that object. in , the project was revived. new subscriptions were solicited, and the old ones demanded, "_at the end of this year _." peter faneuil died march , - , and had therefore been dead, between five and six years. "for the subscription of peter faneuil," says mr. greenwood, in his history of the chapel, "they were unfortunately obliged to sue his brother, and executor, benjamin faneuil, from whom, after a disagreeable lawsuit, they at last recovered it." mr. greenwood erred, in the supposition, that peter left a will. he died intestate, and administration was granted to benjamin, march , , old style. the estate, of course, had been settled, doubtless, some years before the demand on the administrator, "_at the end of _." having other heirs to consult, he very properly resisted this tardy and unexpected claim; and cast the responsibility upon the court. for several years, peter faneuil worshipped in trinity church, of which his brother-in-law, addington davenport, became rector, in . peter's pew, in old trinity, was no. . he was an active and liberal member of the episcopal charitable society. "mr. faneuil," says the late dr. boyle, "was one of the earliest members of the society. he was a liberal subscriber to its funds, and acted, as a trustee of the institution." peter faneuil's heart was proverbially warm, and sensitive to the necessities and distresses of his _neighbor_; and he seems to have cherished the true scriptural construction of that _ubiquitary_ word. the accession of wealth, upon his uncle's death, hardened not his heart, but gave it a deeper, fuller, and stronger pulse, upon every call of charity. to him, as to other men, who admit their motives to be human, upon common occasions, the applause of the _wise_ and _good_ was exceedingly agreeable. whatever the prominency of higher and holier considerations, he turned a willing and a grateful ear to the approbation of the judicious and upright. not contented with the opportunities of doing good, on a small scale, which were, doubtless, frequently presented, before a man, whose wealth and warmheartedness were equally notorious; he coveted some fair occasion, for pouring forth of his abundance, in a more magnificent manner--pleased--naturally and justifiably pleased--with the thought, that his name and his memory would be associated with the deed, in after times. no. cxxx. one may, as successfully, search for that identical peck of pickled peppers, that peter piper picked, as for the original hall, that peter faneuil built. like rachel's first born, _it is not_. after all the reparations, and changes, and hard hammerings she has undergone, we may as well search, within the walls of old ironsides, for those very ribs of live oak, which, some fifty years ago, were launched, in the body of the frigate constitution. in the olden time, the market men, like the mourners, went "about the streets." the inhabitants were served, at their doors. as early as , gov. winthrop, in his journal, speaks of a market, which was kept in boston, "on thursday, the fifth day of the week." this weekly market on the fifth day is mentioned, by douglass, as of , vol. i. p. . this, i think, refers only to a gathering of sellers and buyers, at one spot, and not to any "visible temple," for storage and shelter. citizens differed, as to the best method of getting their _provant_; some preferred the old mode, as it was supposed to save time; others were in favor of having a common point, with a covered building. parties were formed; the citizens waxed wroth; and quarrelled about their meat, like angry dogs. those, who were in favor of market-houses, prevailed. three were erected; one, at the old north square--one, where faneuil hall now stands--and one, near liberty tree. people were no longer supplied, at their houses. it seems very strange, that this sensible arrangement should have led to violent outrage. the malcontents assembled together, in the night, "disguised like clergymen"--the devil, sometimes assumes this exterior--and "totally demolished the centre market-house." this occurred, about the year - , or about the time of andrew faneuil's death. such is the account of good old thomas pemberton. m. h. c. iii. . the popular sentiment prevented the reconstruction of the centre market-house, till, in , july , a town meeting was held to consider a petition, for this object, from thomas palmer and others. at this meeting, it was stated, that peter faneuil had offered, at his own cost, to build a market-house, on the town's land, in dock square, for the use of the town, if the citizens, would legally empower him so to do; place the same under proper regulations; and maintain it, for that use. an impression has, somewhat extensively, prevailed, that mr. faneuil's proposal was not courteously received, by his fellow-citizens, and that a majority of seven only were in favor of it. on the contrary, mr. faneuil's proposal was received, with the most ample demonstrations of grateful respect. there were two questions before the meeting--first: shall a vote of thanks be passed to peter faneuil, for his liberal offer? secondly: shall we give up the itinerant system, and have a market-house, on _any_ conditions? upon the first question, there was but _one_ mind--on the second, there were _two_. a vote of thanks to mr. faneuil was instantly passed, without a dissentient. but the second question was the vexed question, revived, and excited the passions of the people. of persons present, only voted in favor of granting the petition of palmer and others, giving a majority of seven only. accordingly, the work was commenced; and it was completed, sept. , , "on which day," says dr. snow, "mr. samuel ruggles, who was employed, in building the market house, waited on the selectmen, by order of p. faneuil, esq., and delivered them the key of said house." peter was a magnificent fellow. an antiquarian friend, to whom the fancy has lineally descended, through a line of highly respectable, antiquarian ancestors, informs me, that his father handed down to him a tradition, which is certainly plausible. it runs thus: while the market-house was in progress--probably on paper--it was suggested to peter, that, with very little additional expense, a splendid town hall might be constructed over it. peter's heart was quite as _roomy_ as the market-house, and town hall together, and he cheerfully embraced the suggestion. the tradition goes a little farther--when the cost was summed up, peter scolded--a little. very likely. mr. peter faneuil was not an exception, i presume, to the common rule. the keys, as i have stated, were presented to the town, sept. , , with all that courtesy, doubtless, for which he was remarkable. peter's relatives and connections are somewhat numerous. the descendants of benjamin his brother are scattered over the country. it will be equally grateful to them, and honorable to our forefathers, to exhibit a portion of the record. sept. , , at a meeting, in the new hall, a vote of thanks was moved, by the hon. john jeffries, uncle of the late dr. john jeffries. in this vote, it is stated, that, whereas peter faneuil has, "at a very great expense, erected a noble structure, far exceeding his first proposal, inasmuch, as it contains, not only a large and sufficient accommodation for a market place, but a spacious and most beautiful town hall over it, and several other convenient rooms, which may prove very beneficial to the town, for offices or otherwise. and the said building being now finished, he has delivered possession thereof to the selectmen for the use of the town; it is therefore voted, that the town do, with the utmost gratitude, receive and accept this most generous and noble benefaction, for the use and intentions it is designed for; and do appoint the hon. thomas cushing esquire, the moderator of this meeting, the hon. adam winthrop, edward hutchinson, ezekiel lewis, and samuel waldo, esquires, thomas hutchinson, esq. the selectmen and representatives of the town of boston, the hon. jacob wendell, james bowdoin, esq., andrew oliver, esq., captain nathaniel cunningham, peter chardon, esq., and mr. charles apthorp, to wait upon peter faneuil, esq., and in the name of the town, to render him their most hearty thanks, for so bountiful a gift, with their prayers, that this and other expressions of his bounty and charity may be abundantly recompensed with the divine blessing." in addition to this vote, the citizens passed another, that the hall should be called faneuil hall, forever; and that the portrait of faneuil should be painted, at full length, and placed therein. on the th of march, , a vote was passed "to purchase the faneuil arms, carved and gilt, by moses deshon, to be fixed in the hall." pemberton says--"previous to the revolution, the portraits of mr. faneuil, general conway, and colonel barré were procured by the town, and hung up in the hall. it is supposed they were carried off by the british." the portrait of faneuil at present, in the hall, was painted by henry sargent, from the portrait, presented to the massachusetts historical society, by miss jones, a grandchild of peter's sister, mary ann. the original building was but half the width of the present, and but two stories high. the hall could contain but persons. in the memorable fire of tuesday, jan. , , faneuil hall was destroyed, and nothing left standing but the walls. on the d of the following march, the town voted to rebuild, and the state authorized a lottery, to meet the expense. there were several classes. a ticket, of the seventh class, lies before me, bearing date march, , with the spacious autograph of john hancock, at the bottom. the building retained its primitive proportions, till , when, the occasions of the public requiring its enlargement, its width was increased, from to feet, and a third story added. a very simple rule may be furnished, for those, who would compare the size of the present building, with that of the genuine peter faneuil hall. take a northeast view of the hall--there are seven windows before you, in each story--run a perpendicular line, from the ground, through the centre of the middle window to the top of the belt, at the bottom of the third story--carry a straight line from that point nearly to the top of the second window, on the right, in the third story. that point is the apex of the old pediment. from that point, draw the corresponding roof line down to the belt, at the corner; and you have a profile of the ancient structure; all which is well exhibited by dr. snow, on the plan, in his history of boston. small as the original structure may appear, when compared with the present, it was a magnificent donation, for the times. it may well be considered a munificent gift, from a single individual, in , when we consider, that its repairs, in , were accomplished, by the aid of the commonwealth, and the creation of a lottery, which continued to curse the community, for several years. peter faneuil was then in all his glory. how readily, by the power of imagination, i raise him from the dead, bolt upright; with his over portly form, and features full of _bon homie_; speaking volumes, about those five pipes of amber-colored madeira, such as his friend delancey had; and that best book of all sorts of cookery, of a large character, for the maid's reading! there he is, at the door of his english chariot, "handsome, but nothing gaudy," with his arms thereon, and his english coachman, and his english horses, and that "strait negro lad" perched behind. i see him now, helping in miss mary anne, his youngest maiden sister; and, as he ascends the steps, wrapping his cloak around him, trimmed with that identical "_scarlet cloth of the very best quality_." the vanity of man's anticipations, the occasional suddenness of his summons away--seldom find a more graphic illustration, than in the case of this noble hearted, and most hospitable gentleman. when he received the grateful salutations of the magnates of the town, who came to thank him, for his munificence, what could have been so little in his thoughts, or in theirs, as the idea, that he was so soon to die! in about five years--five, short, luxurious years--after the death of andrew faneuil, peter, his favorite nephew, was committed to the ground, march , , old style. the event, from its suddenness, and from the amiable and benevolent character of the individual, produced a deep sensation, in the _village_, for boston was nothing but a seashore village then. in , some fourteen years before, we learn from douglass, i. , that there were but rateable polls, on the peninsula. this event was unexpected, by the living, and had been equally unexpected, by the dead. death came to peter, like a thief in the stilly night. he had not looked for this unwelcome visitor. he had made no will. by this event, benjamin came into possession; and old andrew is supposed to have turned over, indignantly, in his coffin. no. cxxxi. to such of my readers, as the lord has abundantly blessed, in their basket and their store, and who have loaned him very little, on his simple promise, to be repaid, in paradise; and who are, peradventure, at this very moment, excogitating revengeful wills; the issue of uncle andrew's vindictive, posthumous arrangements may prove a profitable lesson, for their learning. verily, god's ways are not as our ways, nor god's will as uncle andrew's. it may be remembered, that, in the devise of his warehouse, in trust, for the benefit of the french church, andrew faneuil provided, that, in the event of the extinction of that church, the estate should revert to his _right heirs--excluding benjamin faneuil, of boston, and the heirs of his body forever_, whom he cuts off, as the popular phrase runs, with "_five shillings, and no more_." in passing along, it may not be amiss to notice this popular error. the law has, at no time, required the bequest of a farthing, to one, near of kin, whom the testator intends to cut off. it is enough, if it be manifest, that the testator has _not forgotten him_; and, to leave no possible doubt upon the subject, a churlish curmudgeon, as in the present case, will transmit, in this offensive manner, the record of his vindictiveness and folly, to future generations. when andrew faneuil makes peter his residuary legatee, there is no provision, for the exclusion of benjamin, in the event of peter's death, without heirs of his body. prepared, as this amiable, old gentleman was, to believe, in the possible extinction of the french church, he seems to have looked upon peter, an inveterate old bachelor, as immortal. yet, in regard to peter, the issue hung, by a single hair. there was no child, with the cup in his hand, to catch the ball, and prevent it from lapsing directly into benjamin's sack, who, with his sisters, stood close at hand, the next of kin to peter, and heirs at law. well: as i have said, god's will was not as uncle andrew's. after a few flying years, during which peter executed the intentions of the testator, with remarkable fidelity; and lived, as magnificently, as a nobleman, and as hospitably, as a bishop, and, as charitably, as an apostle--suddenly, the silver cord was loosed, and the golden bowl was broken, and peter dropped into the grave. the title of benjamin and his sisters to all peter's estate, and to all andrew's estate, that remained, as the heirs at law of peter, passed into them, through the atmosphere, at once; and andrew's will, by the act of god, was set aside, in the _upper_ court. administration was granted to benjamin, march , , o. s., who returned an inventory, april , . the appraisers of the estate were william price, joseph dowse, and peter chardon; and the sum total of their valuation was £ , . . . this, certainly, will incline the reader to master lovell's idea, of "_a large and plentiful estate_," until i add those words of withering import--_old tenor_. sterling decimates old tenor with a vengeance--_ten_ pounds, old tenor, were but _one_ pound, sterling. the valuation, therefore, amounted to about £ , sterling, or, in dollars, at five to the pound, to $ , . it may seem rather surprising, that the balance, which fell to peter, from his uncle, under the will, and his own accumulations, should amount to no more. but a few reflections may tend to moderate our surprise. the estate of his uncle had been seriously diminished, by the payment of legacies, £ , stg. to each of his three nieces, $ , --more than $ , to his niece, marie phillips; and about $ , , in smaller legacies, raising the amount of legacies to $ , . he had also given his warehouse, in king street, to the french church. these legacies peter had paid. he had also built and presented the market-house and the hall to the town. but there is another important consideration. funds still remained, in other countries, part and parcel of andrew's property. this is evident, from an original document before me, the marriage settlement of peter's sister, mary anne with john jones, bearing date march , , the very month of peter's death. this document recites, that one part of her estate, as one of the heirs of peter faneuil, "_is in public funds, such as the bank of england_." as this does not figure in benjamin's inventory here, it is impossible to say what was the amount of foreign funds, which peter owned, at the time of his death. for some five years, while he had been living, in a style of unbounded hospitality, he had also enjoyed the luxury of doing good, and paid, most liberally, for that enjoyment. from his commercial correspondence, i infer, that his enterprise suffered no material abatement, after his uncle's decease. i cannot doubt, that his free expenditure of money, for his personal enjoyment, the gratification of his pride, and the pleasure of ministering to the wants of the poor and needy, had lessened, and was lessening, from month to month, the amount of his estate. there is yet another consideration, which belongs to this account, the great disparity, between the value of money, then, and at the present day. the items, or particular heads, of the inventory, are one hundred and fifty-eight; and cover near four folio pages of the record. some of them may not be wholly uninteresting to the reader. the mansion-house, the same, as i have stated, in which lieutenant governor billy phillips lived and died, and isaiah doane before him, the extensive garden, outhouses and yard were appraised, one hundred and eight years ago, at £ , , or £ , stg., about $ , , at five dollars to the pound. fourteen hundred ounces of plate, at £ , . this plate was divided into five parts, for the brother, and four sisters of the deceased. a memorandum lies upon my table, labelled, in the original hand of gillam phillips--"an account of my proportion of plate, belonging to the estate of peter faneuil, esq., deceased." this document contains a list of "_gillam phillips' lot_," and side by side--"_a coffee pot_--_a large, handsome chamber pot_." they made a free use of the precious metals, in those days. a parcel of jewels are appraised, at £ , -- white horse, £ -- albany horses, £ -- english horses, £ -- other english horses, £ -- old and new harnesses, £ -- pairs runners, £ -- four-wheel chaise, £ -- two-wheel chaise, £ --a coach, £ -- chariot, £ -- negroes, £ -- -- -- -- . then follows a variety of articles--fowling pieces--fishing tackle--silver-hilted sword--pistols--china, glass, hangings, carpets, and culinary articles, in profusion--lignum vitæ coffee cups, lined with silver--silver snuff-boxes--gold sleeve-buttons and rings-- dozen of wine--arrack--beer--cheshire and gloucester cheeses. indeed, peter's establishment appears to have been a variorum edition of all manner of elegancies, luxuries, and creature comforts. the inventory comprehends eight tenements, in cornhill, and king street; a number of vessels, and parts of vessels; and various other items of property. the remains of this noble-spirited descendant of the huguenots of rochelle were deposited, in the faneuil tomb, in the westerly corner of the granary ground. this tomb is of dark freestone, with a freestone slab. upon the easterly end of the tomb, there is a tablet of slate, upon which are sculptured, with manifest care and skill, the family arms; while, upon the freestone slab, are inscribed, at the top, m. m.--_memento mori_, of course,--and, at the bottom of the slab--a cruel apology for the old huguenot patronymic--"peter funel. ," and nothing more. the explanation, which arises, in my mind, of this striking inconsistency, is this: i believe this tomb, whose aspect is simple, solid, and antique, to have been built by andrew faneuil, who was a wealthy merchant here as early as : and i think it is quite certain, that the lady, whom he married, in holland, and whose beauty is traditional, among her descendants, made the great exchange--beauty for ashes--in this very sepulchre. in this tomb, andrew was buried, by peter, feb. , , and peter, by his brother, benjamin, march , , old style, and here benjamin himself, was laid, after an interval of two-and-forty years, where there is neither work, nor device, nor will, nor codicil. the arms of peter faneuil--i have them before me, at this moment, on his massive, silver pepper-pot--he found a place for them, on many of his possessions, though i cannot say, if on all the articles which came into the possession of gillam phillips,--were a field argent--no chevron--a large heart, truly a suitable emblem, in the centre, gules--seven stars equidistant from each other, and from the margin of the escutcheon, extending from the sinister chief to the dexter base--in the sinister base a cross molin, within an annulet--no scroll--no supporters; crest, a martlet. the arms upon the tomb, though generally like these, and like the arms, on other articles, once peter's, and still extant, differ in some important particulars; and seem to have been quartered with those of another family, as the arms of andrew, being a collateral, might have been. a helmet, beneath the martlet, especially, is wholly different from peter's crest. such precisely are the arms, on the seal of wax, upon andrew's will, in the registry. hence i infer, that uncle andrew built this ancient sepulchre. arms, in days of old, and still, where a titled nobility exists, are deemed, for the popular eye, sufficient evidence of ownership, without a name. so thought uncle andrew; and he left the freestone tablet, without any inscription. some five years after the testator's burial, the tomb was again opened, to let in the residuary legatee. peter's was a grand funeral. the evening post, of march , - , foretold, that it would be such; but the papers, which, doubtless, gave an account of it, are lost--the files are imperfect, of all those primitive journals. at first, and for years, the resting place of peter's remains was well enough known. but the rust of time began to gather upon men's memories. the faneuil arms, ere long, became unintelligible, to such, as strolled among the tombs. that "_handsome chariot, but nothing gaudy_," with peter's armorial bearings upon its panels, no longer rolled along treamount, and queen streets, and cornhill, and drew up, of a sabbath morning, before trinity church, that brother peter and the ladies might sit upon their cushions, in no. , while brother addington davenport gave them a sermon, upon the apostolical succession. the good people had therefore forgotten all about the faneuil arms; and, before a great many years had rolled away, the inquiry naturally arose, in popular phraseology--"_whereabouts was it, that peter faneuil was buried?_" some worthy old citizen--god bless him--who knew rather more of this matter than his neighbors, and was well aware, that the arms would be but a dead letter to posterity, resolved to serve the public, and remedy the defect. up he goes into the granary ground, in the very spirit of old mortality, and, with all his orthography in his ear, inscribes p. funel upon the tablet! no. cxxxii. "_but simon's wife's mother lay sick of a fever._" mark i. . from this text, a clergyman--_of the old school_--had preached just as many, consecutive sermons, as i have already published articles, concerning peter faneuil and his family. a day or two after the last discourse, the bell of the village church was tolled, for a funeral; and a long-suffering parishioner, being asked, whose funeral it was, replied, that he had no doubt it was simon's wife's mother's; for she had been sick of a fever, for nine weeks, to his certain knowledge. let the reader possess himself in patience--our dealings with the faneuils cannot last forever. we have stated, that peter's death was sudden, the very death, from which, as a churchman, he had prayed to be delivered. but let us not forget, that no death is sudden, in the sense of the good man's prayers, however instantaneously the golden bowl may be broken, to him, whose life has been well spent, and who is prepared to die. in this connection, two interesting questions arise--how peter faneuil came to be a churchman--and if his life was a well-spent life, affording him reasonable assurance of admission into paradise. the old huguenots styled themselves "the reformers," and embraced the doctrines of calvin, in full. oppression commonly teaches even intolerant men the value of toleration. our puritan fathers, it is true, who fled from episcopal, as the huguenots from roman catholic tyranny, profited very little, by the lesson they had learned; and turned upon the catholics and quakers, in the spirit of preposterous cruelty. the government of massachusetts, according to hazard, received a profitable lesson of moderation, from that of rhode island. the huguenots soon began to abate somewhat of that exorbitant severity and punctiliousness, in their religion, which, in no slight degree, had brought upon them that persecution, which was gathering, and impending over them, in , a twelvemonth before the revocation of the edict of nantes; compelling many of them, thus early, to fly from their homes, into other lands. the teachings of james saurin, the great huguenot preacher of the refugees, at the hague, in , and in subsequent years, were of a milder type. he was "_a moderate calvinist_." such, also, were daillé and le mercier, the ministers of the french church, in boston. peter faneuil, undoubtedly, worshipped in this church, during a certain period. we have seen the liberal arrangement of his uncle, in , for the support of its minister, and the testator's provision for its poor. even then, he evidently anticipated, that it might cease to be; and shaped his testamentary provisions accordingly. natural causes were in operation; i have referred to them--intermarriage, with our english people--merging the language of the few, in that of the many--juxtaposition--all tending to diminish the necessity for maintaining a separate church. there was no dissolution of the society, at first, by any formal vote. the attendance became irregular and scanty--the members went elsewhere--le mercier, "a worthy character," says the rev. dr. holmes, ceased to officiate, and the church broke up. for years, there were no services, within the little temple; and, in , it was sold, as i have stated, to the members of another denomination. it became a question with these huguenots, the faneuils, the boutineaus, the johonnots, the oliviers, the sigourneys, and their associates, where they should worship god. in - , the preachers, in boston, were charles chauncey, at the old brick--at the old north, increase mather, supplying the place of his brother samuel, who, though ordained, in , preached but one winter, and parted--at the old south, joseph sewall, and thomas prince--at the baptist, in back street, jeremy condy--at king's chapel, stephen roe--at brattle street, william cooper--at the quaker meeting-house, in leverett's lane, whoever was moved by the spirit--at the new north, john webb--at the new south, samuel checkley--at the new brick, ellis gray--at christ church, timothy cutler--at long lane, jonny moorhead--at hollis street, mather byles--at trinity, addington davenport--at lynde street, william hooper. several of the descendants of the huguenots, not at all deterred, by the resemblance, whatever that might be, between the forms of episcopalian worship, and those of their religious persecutors, the roman catholics, mingled with the episcopalians. thus they clung to the common element, the doctrine of the trinity; and escaped, like saurin, from the super-sulphuretted vapors of primitive calvinism. it is not very surprising, that the faneuils should have settled down, upon the new and fashionable temple--trinity had been erected but a few years before; and the new rector was peter's brother-in-law, mr. addington davenport. peter therefore became, _pro tanto_, an episcopalian--a liberal subscriber to the charitable, episcopal fund, and to the fund for the rebuilding of king's chapel; and identified himself with the episcopal interest. the religious character of peter faneuil, and the present whereabouts of this public benefactor, will be determined, by different individuals, according to the respective indications of their spiritual thermometers. i have already ventured an opinion, that the mantle of charity, which covereth a multitude of sins, should be extended, for peter's behoof, over that little affair with peter baynton, touching the duties, on those four hogsheads of brandy. but there is another matter, over which, i am aware, that some very worthy people will doubt, if the mantle of charity, can be stretched, without serious danger of lesion--i refer to the importation, about the same time with the prayer books, of that enormous quantity--six gross--of "the very best king henry's cards." i have often marvelled, how the name of the defender of the faith ever came to be connected, with such pestilent things. i am well aware, how closely, in the opinions of some learned divines, cards are associated with the idea of eternal damnation. if it be so; and a single pack is enough to send the proprietor to the bottomless pit, it is truly grievous to reflect how much deeper peter, our great public benefactor, has gone, with the oppressive weight of six gross of the very best, upon his soul. now-a-days, there seem to be very few, the romanists excepted, who believe in purgatory; and it is pretty generally agreed, that all, who attempt the bridge of _al sirat_, will surely arrive, either at paradise, or pandemonium. how delightful it would be, to have the opinion of good old andré le mercier, in a case like this. though peter no longer waited upon le mercier's ministrations; but, for several years, before the dissolution of the french church, had settled down, under brother addington davenport, first, as the assistant at king's chapel, and, afterwards, as the rector of trinity; yet le mercier could not forget the nephew of his benefactor, andrew faneuil. he was, doubtless, at peter's funeral, who died one and twenty years, before the holy man was summoned to his account, in . yes, he was there. i have heard of a man, who accounted, for the dryness of his eyes, when all around him wept, at a pathetic discourse, on the ground, that he belonged to another parish. i have known christian ministers--_very_--not many, thank heaven--who were influenced, to such a degree, by that spirit, which may be supposed to govern the proprietors of opposition omnibuses, as to consider the chord of human sympathy cut, through and through, and forever, between themselves, and a parishioner, who, for any cause, elected to receive his spiritual treasures out of some other earthen vessel, albeit of the very same denomination of crockery ware. poverty, and disease, and death, and misery, in every type, might stalk in, and upon, and over that homestead, and hearth, where these christian ministers had been warmed, and refreshed, and fostered--but it was no longer a concern of theirs. no visit of condolence--no kind inquiry--not one, cheap word of consolation had they, for such, as had ceased to receive their ideas of damnation from them--enough--these individuals had sold their pews--"_crimen difficile expiandum_"--they belonged to another parish! andré le mercier, was not a man of this description. he was not a holy huckster of spiritual things, having not one crumb of comfort, for any, but his regular customers. andré was a man, whose neighbor's ubiquity was a proverb. but what he would say, about these six gross of king henry's cards, i am by no means, certain. he was a man of a tolerant spirit; but on certain points, the most tolerant are, occasionally, found to be imbued, with unalterable prejudices. on page , of his church history of geneva, which i have read with pleasure, he quotes approvingly, the maxim of "a doctor of the church." "_in necessariis rebus sit unitas, in dubiis libertas, in omnibus charitas._" this breathes the spirit of toleration:--what are _dubia_, what _necessaria_ are not quite so readily settled, however. on page , i find a passage, not quite so favorable for peter, in this matter of the six gross. referring to calvin's return to geneva, in , after his banishment, le mercier says--"and then _balls and dances_ and profane songs were forbidden, by the magistrates. and that form of discipline remains entire, to the present time, notwithstanding the repeated attempts, that have been made by wicked people to overset it. king henry's cards, i fear, even of the very best quality, would, undoubtedly, fall into this category, of things calvinized on earth, in the opinion of andré le mercier." the meaning of the words, "_profane songs_," may not be universally intelligible. it undoubtedly meant, as used by the council, _all songs not sacred_. calvin, undoubtedly, adopted the commendation of scripture, to such, as were merry, to sing psalms. it appears, however, that certain persons entertained conservative notions, in those early days; even beyond the dictum of holy writ; for, on page , le mercier states, that sebastian castalio, a preacher, and professor, in the college of geneva, "_condemned solomon's songs, as being profane and immodest_;" the very charge, as the reader is aware, which has been so often urged, against the songs of tom moore. moore, at last, betook himself to sacred melodies. solomon, had his life been spared, would, probably, have done the same thing, to the entire satisfaction of sebastian castalio. i see wisdom, and mercy, and truth, in a part of the maxim, quoted by andré le mercier--_in dubiis libertas_. i have long suspected there were some angels in heaven, who were damned by calvin, on earth. i verily believe, that peter faneuil is in paradise. no. cxxxiii. some of my readers, i doubt not, have involuntarily clenched their fists, and set their teeth hard, while conning over the details of that merciless and bloody duel, so long, and so deliberately projected, and furiously fought, at last, near bergen op zoom, by the lord bruce, and sir edward sackville, with rapiers, and in their shirts. gentle reader, if you have never met with this morceau, literally dripping with blood, and are born with a relish for such rare provant--for i fear the appetite is congenital--you will find an ample account of the affair, in numbers and of the guardian. this wrathful fight is of an early date, having taken place, in . who could measure the popular excitement, if tomorrow's dawn should bring the tidings of a duel, fought the night before, on boston common, by two young gentlemen, with rapiers, not, perhaps, quite so brutal, in its minute details, but quite as deliberately planned, and quite as fatal, in its result! what then must have been the effect of such an announcement, on the morning of the fourth of july, , one hundred and twenty-three years ago, when boston was a seaport village, just six years, after the "_perlustration_" of mr. salter had rated the population, at , souls. it is matter of sober history, that such a duel was actually fought, then and there, on the evening of the third of july, , near the powder-house, which is indicated, on bonner's plan of . this was a very different affair from the powder-house, erected at west boston, in , with walls of seven feet in thickness. the parties, engaged, in this fatal affair were two young gentlemen, whose connections were highly respectable, whose lives had been amiable, whose characters were of good report, and whose friends were numerous and powerful. the names of peter faneuil and of his uncle, jean faneuil, of rochelle, are associated with this transaction. the parties were very young; the survivor twenty-two, and the victim but little more. the survivor, henry phillips, was the brother of gillam phillips, who, the reader of the preceding articles will remember, married marie, the sister of peter faneuil. peter was then just twenty-eight; and, doubtless, if there were dandies in those days, one of the foremost, on the peninsula. the natural interest he felt, in the brother of his sister's husband, engaged his efforts, to spirit the wretched survivor away. he was consigned to the uncle of peter, beyond the sea--to whom marie, his niece, very probably, wrote a few lines, bespeaking kind offices, for the unfortunate brother of her husband. it is not impossible, that old andré added a prudential word or two, by way of postscript, confirming brother jean, as to the safety of the operation. be this as it may, henry phillips escaped from his pursuers, who were speedily put upon the scent, by governor dummer. henry phillips arrived safely in rochelle. what befel him, in the strange land, is not the least interesting portion of the narrative. benjamin woodbridge--such was the name of the individual, who was the victim, in this fatal encounter--was a young merchant, in partnership with mr. jonathan sewall. of his particular origin i am not entirely satisfied. the name, among us, is of the olden time. benjamin woodbridge was the very earliest alumnus of harvard college: born in england in , and graduated here in . the originating cause of this duel, like that, which produced the terrible conflict, between the lord bruce and sir edward sackville, is unknown. that the reader may walk along with me, confidingly, upon this occasion, it may be well to indicate the sources, from which i derive my knowledge of a transaction, so exciting at the time, so fatal in its results, and so almost universally unknown, to those, who daily pass over the very spot, on our common, upon which these young gentlemen met, and where young woodbridge fell. i have alluded to the subsequent relation of peter faneuil, and of his uncle, jean, of rochelle, to this affair. in my investigation into the history of peter and his relatives, i have been aided by mr. charles faneuil jones, the grandson of peter's sister, mary ann. among the documents, loaned me, by that gentleman, are sundry papers, which belonged to gillam phillips, the brother of henry, the survivor in the duel. among these papers, are original documents, in jean faneuil's handwriting, relative to the fate of the miserable wanderer, after his arrival in rochelle--accounts of disbursements--regularly authenticated copies of the testimony, relative to the duel, and to the finding of the dead body of woodbridge, and to the coöperation of peter faneuil and others, in concealing the survivor, on board the sheerness, british man of war, and of his indictment, the "_billa vera_," in august, , by the grand jury of suffolk, for murder. in addition to these documents, i have found a certified copy of a statement, highly favorable to the character of henry phillips, the survivor, and manifestly intended to have an influence upon the public mind. this statement is subscribed, by eighty-eight prominent citizens, several of them holding high official stations, and among the number, are four ministers of the gospel, with the rev. timothy cutler, of christ church, at their head. appended is the certificate of governor burnett, who, in that very month, succeeded governor dummer, stating the official, professional and social position of the signers of this document, with which it was clearly intended to fortify an application to george ii. for a pardon of the offender. the discovery of these papers, affording, as they do, some account of a transaction, so very remarkable, for the time and place of its occurrence, and of which i had never heard nor read before, excited my curiosity, and led me to search for additional information. if my reader is of the fancy, he will readily comprehend my chagrin, when, upon turning over the leaves of green's "_boston weekly news letter_"--the imperfect files--all that time has left us--preserved in the library of the massachusetts historical society--the very paper, that next ensued, after july , , the date of the duel, and which, doubtless, referred to an occurrence, so very extraordinary, was among the "_things lost upon earth_." i was not less unfortunate with the files of the old "boston gazette," of that early day. i then took up kneeland's "new england weekly journal," but with very little confidence of success. the file, however, was there--no. --july , , and my eyes soon fell, as the reader's fall at this moment, upon governor dummer's proclamation:-- "whereas a barbarous murder was last night committed, on the body of benjamin woodbridge, a young gentleman, resident in the town of boston; and henry phillips, of said town, is suspected to be the author of said murder, and is now fled from justice; i have therefore thought proper to issue this proclamation, hereby commanding all justices, sheriffs, constables, and all other officers, within this province, and requiring all others, in his majesty's name, to use their utmost endeavors, that the said henry phillips may be apprehended and brought to justice; and all persons, whosoever, are commanded, at their utmost peril, not to harbor nor conceal him. the said henry phillips is a fair young man, about the age of twenty-two years, well set, and well dressed; and has a wound in one of his hands. given at boston, the th of july, , in the second year of the reign of our sovereign lord and king, george ii." this proclamation bears the signature of his excellency, william dummer. the editor of the journal, which contains the proclamation, expresses himself as follows--"on thursday last, the th current, about in the morning, after some hour's search, was found dead, near the powder house, the body of mr. benjamin woodbridge, a young gentleman, merchant of this place. he had a small stab, under the right arm; but what proved fatal to him was a thrust he received, under his right breast, which came out, at the small of his back. the fore-finger of his left hand was almost cut off, at the uppermost joint, supposed to be done, by grasping a naked sword. the coroner's inquest immediately set upon the body; and, after the best information and evidence they could obtain, upon their oaths say, that 'the said benjamin woodbridge was killed, with a sword, run through his body, by the hands of henry phillips, of boston, merchant, on the common, in said boston, on the third of this instant, as appears to us, by sundry evidences.' the body was carried to the house of mr. jonathan sewall, (his partner,) and, on saturday last, was decently and handsomely interred, his funeral being attended, by the commander-in-chief, several of the council, and most of the merchants and gentlemen of the town. there are many and various reports respecting this tragic scene, which makes us cautious of relating any of them. but the above, being plain matters of fact, we thought it not improper to give the public an account thereof. the unhappy gentleman, who is supposed to have committed the act, is not as yet found. this new and almost unknown case has put almost the whole town into great surprise." a sermon, upon this occasion, of uncommon length, was delivered july , , by the rev. dr. joseph sewall, of the old south, at the public lecture, and published, with a preface, by the "_united ministers_" of boston. to give dignity to this discourse, it is adorned with a latin prefix--"_duellum est damnandum, tam in acceptante quam in provocante; quamvis major sit culpa provocantis_." this discourse is singularly barren of all allusion to the cause and circumstances of this event; and appears, like our almanacs, adapted to any meridian. at his majesty's court of assize and general gaol delivery, on the second tuesday of august, , the grand jurors, under the attorney general hiller's instructions, found a "_vera billa_" against henry phillips, for the murder of benjamin woodbridge. phillips was then far beyond the influence and effect of the _vera billa_--on the high sea--upon his voyage of expatriation. for some cause, which i am entirely unable to comprehend, and can barely conjecture, a sympathy existed, for this young man, extending far beyond the circle of his personal friends and relatives, and engaging, on his behalf, the disinterested efforts, not only of several persons in high official stations, but in holy orders, who cannot be supposed to have undervalued the crime, of which he was unquestionably guilty, before god and man. the reader, as we proceed, may possibly be more successful than i have been, in discovering the occasion of this extraordinary sympathy. no. cxxxiv. that strong sympathy, exhibited for henry phillips, by whose sword a fellow creature had so recently fallen, in a duel, must have sprung, if i am not greatly mistaken, from a knowledge of facts, connected with the origin of that duel, and of which the present generation is entirely ignorant. truth lies not, more proverbially, at the bottom of a well, than, in a great majority of instances, a woman lurks at the bottom of a duel. if phillips, unless sorely provoked, had been the challenger, i cannot think the gentlemen, who signed the certificate, in his behalf, would have spoken of him thus:-- "these may certify to all whom it may concern, that we, the subscribers, well knew and esteemed mr. henry phillips of boston, in new england, to be a youth of a very affable, courteous, and peaceable behavior and disposition, and never heard he was addicted to quarrelling, he being soberly brought up, in the prosecution of his studies, and living chiefly an academical life; and verily believe him slow to anger, and with difficulty moved to resentment." among the eighty-eight signers of this certificate, the names of peter and benjamin faneuil, and of their uncle, andrew, occur, almost as a matter of course. they were family connections. who the others were, appears, by the governor's certificate, under the seal of the province:-- "by his excellency, william burnet, &c. &c. these may certify whom it may concern, that john wentworth esquire is lieut. governor of the province of new hampshire; that william tailor esquire was formerly lieut. governor of the province of the massachusetts bay, and is now a member of his majesty's council for said province; that james stevens is surveyor general of the customs, for the northern district, in america; that thomas lechmere esquire was late surveyor general of the same; that john jekyll esquire is collector of the customs, for the port of boston; that thomas steele is justice of the peace; that william lambert esquire is controller of the customs, at boston; that j. minzies esquire was judge of the vice admiralty; that messieurs timothy cutler, henry harris, george pigot, and ebenezer miller are ministers of the gospel; and that the other subscribers to the certificate on the other side, are, some of them merchants and others gentlemen of the town of boston." this certificate, bearing the signature of gov. burnet, is dated oct. , . of the origin of this affair, i have discovered nothing. immediately after its consummation, phillips manifested deep distress, at the result. about midnight, of july , , with the assistance of his brother, gillam, peter faneuil, and several other persons, henry phillips was removed to a place of safety. he was first conducted, by peter faneuil, to the house of col. estis hatch, and there concealed. his brother, gillam, in the meanwhile, applied to captain john winslow, of "_the pink, molly_," for a boat, to carry henry, on board the british man of war, then lying between the castle and spectacle island. gillam and the captain repaired to hatch's, and had an interview with peter and henry, in the yard. it was then concluded, that henry should go to gibbs' wharf, probably as the most retired wharf, for embarkation. the reader, who loves to localize--this word will do--will find this little wharf, on bonner's plan, of , at the southeastern margin of fort hill, about half way between whitehorn's wharf and south battery. it lay directly northeast, and not far distant from the lower end of gibbs' lane, now belmont street. henry phillips, with peter faneuil, accordingly proceeded, as quietly as possible, to gibbs' wharf. i see them now, stealing through hatch's back gate, and looking stealthily behind them, as they take the darker side of belcher's lane. i trust there was no moon, that night. it was very foggy. the reader will soon be sure, that i am right, in that particular. gillam and captain winslow had gone to the long wharf, where the molly's boat lay; and, as the distance was very considerable to the man-of-war, they went first to the pink, molly--named, doubtless, for the captain's lady. there they took on board, four of the pink's crew. how heavily the moments passed that night! that "_fair young man_," as governor dummer calls him, in the _lettres de cachet_--too young, it may seem, at twenty-two, to commence a pilgrimage, like cain's--how sublimated his misery must have been! what sacrifice would he not have made, to break the dead man's slumber! there he lay; as yet unfound, stark, and stiff, and with eyes unclosed-- "cut off, ev'n in the blossoms of my sin, unhousel'd, unanointed, unanneal'd." bootless sorrow! he had made his bloody bed--and therein must he lie o'nights, and in no other. there were no hops in that pillow, for his burning brain. the undying memory of a murdered victim--what an everlasting agrypnic it must be! time, to this wretched boy, seemed very like eternity, that night--but the sound of the splashing oar was audible at last--the boat touched the wharf--for the last time he shook the hand of his friend, peter faneuil, and left the land of his birth, which he was destined never to revisit. the boat was turned from the shore, and the rowers gave way. but so intense was the fog, that night, that they got on shore, at dorchester neck; and, not until long after midnight, reached the sheerness, man of war. they were received on board. captain conrad and lieutenant pritchard were very naturally disposed to sympathize with "_a fair young man_," in a predicament, like this--it was all in their line. gillam, the elder brother, related the occurrence; and, before day, parted from henry, whom he was destined to meet no more. early, on the following morning, the events of the preceding night had been whispered, from man to man; for the pleasure of being among the earliest, to communicate the intelligence of a bloody murder, was precisely the same, in , as it is, at the present day. mrs. winslow, the lady of the captain of the molly, had learned all the details, doubtless, before the morning watch. the surgeons, who dressed the wounds of henry phillips, for he also was wounded, felt themselves under no obligation to be silent. the sailors of the molly, who had overheard the conversation of several of the party, were under no injunction of secrecy. indeed, long before the dawn of the fourth of july--not then the glorious fourth--the intelligence had spread, far and wide; and parties were scouring the common, in quest of the murdered man. at an early hour, governor dummer's proclamation was in the hands of some trusty compositor, in the office of samuel kneeland, in queen street; and soon the handbills were upon all the town pumps, and chief corners, according to the usage of those days. there is a pleasure, somewhat difficult of analysis, undoubtedly, in gazing for hours upon the stuffed skin of a beast, that, when in the flesh, has devoured a respectable citizen. when good mr. bowen--not the professor--kept his museum in the mansion, occupied, before the revolution, by the rev. dr. caner, and upon whose site the savings bank, and historical society have their apartments, at present, nothing in all his collection--not even the salem beauty--nor marat and charlotte cordé--interested me so much, as a broken sword, with a label annexed, certifying, that, during the horrors of st. domingo, seven and twenty of the white inhabitants had fallen, beneath that sword, in the hands of a gigantic negro! how long, one of the fancy will linger--"_patiens pulveris atque solis_" for the luxury of looking upon nothing more picturesque than the iron bars of a murderer's cell! it had, most naturally, spread abroad, that young philips was concealed, on board the man of war. hundreds may be supposed to have gathered, in groups, straining their eyes, to get a glimpse of the sheerness; and the officer, who, in obedience to the warrant, proceeded, on that foggy morning, to arrest the offender, found more difficulty, in discovering the man of war, than was encountered, on the preceding evening, by those, who had sought for the body of woodbridge, upon the common. at length, the fog fled before the sun--the vista was opened between the castle and spectacle island--but the sheerness was no longer there--literally, the places that had known her, knew her no more. some of our worthy fathers, more curious than the rest, betook themselves, i dare say, to the cupola of the _old_ townhouse--how few of us are aware, that the present is the third, that has occupied that spot. there, with their glasses, they swept the eastern horizon, to find the truant ship--and enjoyed the same measure of satisfaction, that mr. irving represents the lodger to have enjoyed, who was so solicitous to get a glimpse of the "stout gentleman." over the waters she went, heavily laden, with as much misery, as could be pent up, in the bosom of a single individual. he was stricken with that malady, which knows no remedy from man--a mind diseased. in one brief hour, he had disfranchised himself for ever, and become a miserable exile. among the officers of the sheerness, he must have been accounted a young lion. his _gallantry_, in the estimation of the gentlemen of the wardroom, must have furnished a ready passport to their hearts--_he had killed his man_!--with the _civilized_, not less than with the _savage_, this is the proudest mark of excellence! how little must he have relished the approbation of the thoughtless, for an act, which had made him the wretched young man, that he was! how paltry the compensation for the anguish he had inflicted upon others--the mourning relatives of him, whom he had, that night, destroyed--his own connections--_his mother_--he was too young, at twenty-two, to be insensible to the sufferings of that mother! god knows, she had not forgotten her poor, misguided boy; as we shall presently see she crossed the ocean, to hold the aching head, and bind up the broken heart of her expatriated son--and arrived, only in season, to weep upon his grave, while it was yet green. no. cxxxv. it is known, that _old_ chief justice sewall, who died jan. , , kept a diary, which is in the possession of the rev. samuel sewall, of burlington, mass., the son of the _late_ chief justice sewall. as the death of the _old_ chief justice occurred, about eighteen months after the time, when the duel was fought, between phillips and woodbridge, it occurred to me, that some allusion to it, might be found, in the diary. the rev. samuel sewall has, very kindly, informed me, that the diary of the chief justice does not refer to the duel; but that the event was noticed by him, in his interleaved almanac, and by the rev. joseph sewall, who preached the occasional sermon, to which i have referred--in _his_ diary: and the rev. mr. sewall, of burlington, has obligingly furnished me with such extracts, as seem to have a bearing on the subject, and with some suggestions, in relation to the parties. on the th of july, , judge sewall, in his interleaved almanac, writes thus--"_poor mr. benjam. woodbridge is found dead in the comon this morning, below the powder-house, with a sword-thrust through him, and his own sword undrawn. henry phillips is suspected. the town is amazed!_" this wears the aspect of what is commonly called foul play; and the impression might exist, that phillips had run his antagonist through, _before he had drawn his sword_. it is quite likely, that judge sewall himself had that impression, when he made his entry, on the fourth of july: the reader will observe, he does not say _sheathed_ but _undrawn_. if there existed no evidence to rebut this presumption, it would seem, not that there had been murder, in a duel, but a case of the _most atrocious_ murder; for nothing would be more unlikely to happen, than that a man, after having received his death wound, in this manner, should have sheathed his own sword. the wound was under the right pap; he was run through; the sword had come out, at the small of his back. how strongly, in this case, the presumptive evidence would bear against phillips, not that he killed woodbridge, for of this there is no doubt; but that he killed him, before he had drawn his own sword. when the reader shall have read the authenticated testimony, which now lies before me, he will see, not only that the swords of both were drawn--but that both were wounded--that, after woodbridge was wounded, he either dropped his sword, or was disarmed--and, that, when he had become helpless, and had walked some little distance from the spot, phillips picked up the sword of his antagonist, and returned it to the scabbard. the proof of this, by an eye-witness, is clear, direct, and conclusive. the next extract, in order of time, is from the diary of the rev. joseph sewall, under date july, --_"n. b. on ye th (wch was kept, as a day of prayr upon ye account of ye drought) we were surpris'd wth ye sad tidings yt mr. henry phillips and mr woodbridge fought a duel in wch ye latter was slain. o ld preserve ye tow. and land from the guilt of blood".----"in ye eveng. i visited mrs. ph. o ld sanctify thine awful judgt to her. give her son a thorow rcpentce."_ these extracts are of interest, not simply because they are historical, but as illustrative of the times. "_ , july . i preached ye lecture from yese words, ps. , , depart from me ye evil doers, &c. endeavd to shew ye evill and danger of wicked company.--condemned duelling as a bloody crime, &c. o lord, bless my poor labours._" "_ - , january . mr. thacher, mr. prince, and i met at mrs. phillips, and pray'd for her son. i hope g. graciously assisted. ld pardon the hainous sins of yt young man, convert and heal his soul._" writing to a london correspondent, june , , chief justice sewall says--"_richard put the letter on board capt. thomas lithered, who saild this day; in who went madam hannah phillips_." in his interleaved almanac is the following entry--"_ , sept. , saturday madam phillips arrives; mane_." the explanation of these two last entries is at hand. jean faneuil of rochelle had, doubtless, written, either to his brother andré, in boston, or to his nephew, by marriage, gillam phillips, giving an account of the wanderer, gillam's brother. at length, the tidings came hither, that he was sick; and, probably, in may, , intelligence arrived, that he was _dangerously ill_. the mother's heart was stirred within her. by the first vessel she embarked for london, on her way to rochelle. the eyes of that unhappy young man were not destined to behold again the face of her, whose daylight he had turned into darkness, and whose heart he had broken. he died about the twentieth of may, , as i infer from the documents before me. the first of these is the account, rendered by jean faneuil, to gillam phillips, in jean's own hand--"_deboursement fait par jean faneuil pour feu monsieur heny phillipe de boston_," &c. he charges in this account, for amount paid the physician, "_pendant sa maladie_." the doctor's bill is sent as a voucher, and is also before me. dr. "_girard de villars, aggregé au college royal des medicins de la rochelle_" acknowledges to have received payment in full _pour l'honoraire des consultes de mes confreres et moy a monsieur henry phillipe anglois_, from the fourth of april, to the twentieth of may. the apothecary's bill of monsieur guinot, covering three folio pages, is an interesting document, for something of the nature of the malady may be inferred, from the _materia medica_ employed--_potion anodine_--_baume tranquille sant_--_cordial somnifere_. how effectually the visions, the graphic recollections of this miserable young man must have _murdered sleep_! the rev. mr. sewall of burlington suggests, that mr. benjamin woodbridge, who fell in this duel, was, very probably, the grandson of the rev. john woodbridge of andover, and he adds, that his partner, jonathan sewall, to whose house the body was conveyed, was a nephew of the _old_ chief justice, and, in , was in business with an elder brother, major samuel sewall, with whom he resided. in , major sewall "lived in a house, once occupied by madam usher, near the common;" whither the body of woodbridge might have been conveyed, without much trouble. the general court, which assembled, on the th of that month, in which this encounter took place, enacted a more stringent law, than had existed before, on the subject of duelling. i shall now present the testimony, as it lies before me, certified by elisha cook, j. p., before whom the examination was had, on the morning after the duel:-- "suffolk, ss. memorandum. boston, july , . messrs. robert handy, george stewart and others being convented on examination, concerning the murther of benja. woodbridge last night, mr. handy examined saith--that sometime before night mr. benja. woodbridge come to me at the white horse[ ] and desired me to lett him (have) his own sword. i asked ye reason: he replied he had business called him into the country. i was jealous he made an excuse. i urged him to tell me plainly what occasion he had for a sword, fearing it was to meet with mr. henry phillips, who had lately fell out. he still persisted in his first story, upon which i gave him his sword and belt,[ ] and then he left the compy, mr. thomas barton being in company, i immediately followed, and went into the common, found said woodbridge walking the common by the powder house, his sword by his side. i saw no person save him. i againe urged the occasion of his being there. he denied informing. in some short time, i saw mr. henry phillips walking towards us, with his sword by his side and cloke on. before he came nere us i told them i feared there was a quarrel and what would be the events. they both denied it. "mr. phillips replied again mr. woodbridge and he had some particular business that concerned them two onley and desired i would go about my business. i still persuaded them to let me know their design, and if any quarrel they would make it up. mr. phillips used me in such a manner with slites (slights) that i went of and left them by the powder house, this was about eight in the evening. i went up the common. they walked down. after some short space i returned, being justly fearful of their designe, in order to prevent their fiteing with swords. i mett with them about the powder house. i first saw mr. woodbridge making up to me, holding his left hand below his right breast. i discovered blood upon his coat, asked the meaning of it. he told me mr. phillips had wounded him. having no sword i enquired where it was. he said mr. phillips had it. mr. phillips immediately came up, with woodbridge's sword in his hand naked, his own by his side. i told them i was surprized they should quarrel to this degree. i told mr. phillips he had wounded mr. woodbridge. he replied yes so he had and mr. woodbridge had also wounded me, but in the fleshy part onley, shewing me his cut fingers. mr. phillips took mr. woodbridge's scabbard, sheathed the sword, and either laid it down by him, or gave it to him. "mr. woodbridge beginning to faint satt down, and begged that surgeons might be sent for. i immediately went away, leaving these two together. phillips presently followed, told me for god's sake to go back to woodbridge, and take care of him, till he returned with a surgeon. i prayed him to hasten, but did not care to returne. mr. phillips went away as fast as he could and went down the lane by the pound.[ ] i returned to the white horse. i found mr. barton and geoe reason together. i told mr. barton phillips and woodbridge having quarreled, woodbridge was much wounded. i asked barton to go and see how it was it with woodbridge. we went a little way from the house, with a designe to go, but barton, hearing phillips was gone for a chirurgeon, concluded phillips would procure a chirurgeon, and so declined going, and went to mr. blin's house where we ware invited to supper. i have not seen mr. hy phillips or (heard) any from him, since i left him going for a chirurgeon." such is the testimony of robert handy; and the reader will agree with me, that, if he and barton had been choked with their supper at mr. blin's, it would have been a "providence." it would be difficult to find the record of more cruel neglect, towards a dying man. when urged to go back and sustain woodbridge, till a surgeon could be procured, he "_did not care to returne_." and barton preferred going to his supper. the principle, which governed these fellows, was a grossly selfish and cowardly fear of personal implication. upon an occasion of minor importance, a similar principle actuated a couple of yorkshire lads, who refused to assist, in righting the carriage of a member of parliament, which had been overturned, because their father had cautioned them never to meddle with state affairs. i shall present the remaining testimony, in the following number. no. cxxxvi. let us proceed with the examination, before justice elisha cook, on the fourth of july, . "john cutler, of boston, chirurgeon, examined upon oath, saith, that, last evening, about seven, dr. george pemberton came to me, at mrs. mears's, and informed, that an unhappy quarrel hapned betwene mr. henry phillips and benja. woodbridge, and it was to be feared mr. woodbridge was desperately wounded. we went out. we soon mett mr. henry phillips, who told us he feared he had killed mr. woodbridge, or mortally wounded him; that he left him at the bottom of the common, and begged us to repaire there and see if any relief might be given him. doct. pemberton and i went, in compy with mr. henry phillips, in search of said woodbridge, but could not find him, nor make any discovery of the affair. mr. phillips left us. i bid him walk in bromfield's lane. we went to mr. woodbridge's lodgings, and severall other houses, but heard nothing of him. upon our return mr. h. phillips was at my house. i dresed his wound, which was across his belly and his fingers. mr. phillips shew a great concern and fear of having killed mr. woodbridge. i endeavored to appease him, and hope better things; but he said, could he think he was alive, he should think himself a happy man." "doct. george pemberton, sworn, saith that last evening about seven or eight o'clock mr. henry phillips came to the sun tavern and informed me, first desiring me to go out wch i did and went to my house, where said phillips shew me some wounds, and that he had wounded mr. benjamin woodbridge, and feared they would prove mortal--begged of me to repair to the comon. accompanied with dr. cutler and said phillips, in quest of said woodbridge, we went to the powder house, and searched the ground there, but could make no discovery. mr. phillips then left us, and walked towards mr. bromfield's lane. dr. cutler and i went to mr. woodbridge's lodging, and several other places, but could hear nothing of him. we returned and found henry phillips, at dr. cutler's, who was very greatly concerned; fearing he had killed mr. woodbridge. we dressed mr. phillips' wounds which were small." "capt. john winslow examined saith that last night being at mr. doring's house, mr. gillam phillips, about eleven in the evening, came to me and told me he wanted my boat to carry off his brother henry, who had wounded or killed a man. i went, by appointment, to mr. vardy's where i soon mett gillam phillips. i asked him where his brother was--who he had been fiteing with. he made answer i should see him presently. went down to colo. estis hatche's where mr. gillam phillips was to meet me. i gott there first, knocked at mr. hatche's door. no answer. from mr. hatche's house mr. peter faneuil and henry phillips came into mr. hatche's yard--mr. gillam phillips immediately after with mr. adam tuck. i heard no discourse about the man who was wounded. they concluded, and sent mr. henry phillips to gibb's wharf. then gillam phillips with me to the long wharf. i took boat there, and went on board my ship, lying in the harbor. mr. phillips (gillam) being in the bote, i took four of the ship's crew, and rowed to gibb's wharf, where we mett with mr. henry phillips, peter faneuil, and adam tuck. i came on shore. henry phillips and tuck entred the boat. i understood by discourse with gillam phillips, they designed on board his majestys ship-sheerness, captain james conrad comdr. this was about twelve and one of the clock." "adam tuck of boston farier, examined upon oath saith, that, about eleven of the clock, last evening, being at luke vardy's i understood there had bin a quarril betwene henry phillips and benja. woodbridge, and that phillips had killed or mortally wounded woodbridge. gillam phillips esq. being there, i walked with him towards colo. hatches, where we came up with capt. jno. winslow, and henry phillips, and peter faneuil. we all went to gibb's wharf, when we, that is mr. gillam and henry phillips, with the examinant went on board capt. john winslow's boat. we designed, as i understood, to go on board his majesie's ship sheerness, in order to leave mr. henry phillips on board the man of war, who, as he told me, had, he feared, wounded a man, that evening on the comon, near the water side. the person's name i understood was woodbridge. soon after our being on board lt. pritchard caried us into his apartment, where gillam phillips related to the leut. the rancounter that hapned betwene his brother henry and benja. woodbridge. i took the intent of their going on board the man of war was to conceale mr. henry phillips. we stayed on board about an hour and a half. we left mr. henry phillips on board the man of war and came up to boston." "john underwood, at present residing in boston, mariner, belonging to the pink molle, john winslow comdr. now lying in the harbour of boston, being examined upon oath, concerning the death or murther of mr. benjamin woodbridge, saith, that about twelve o'clock last night, his captn john winslow, with another person, unknown to him came on board. the captn ordered the boat with four of our hands, i being one, to go to a wharf at the south end of the town, where we went, and there the capt. went on shore, and two other persons came into the boat without the captn. we put of and by the discourse we were designed to go on board the man of whar, but by reason of the fogg or thick weather we gott on shore at dorchester neck, went up to a house and stayed there about an hour and half, then returned to our boat, took in the three persons affore-named, as i suppose, with our crew, and went on board the man of war, now lying betwene the castle & specta island. we all went on board with the men we took in at the wharf, stayed there for the space of an hour, and then came up to boston, leaving one of the three onley on board, and landed by oliver's dock." "wm. pavice of boston, one of the pink molly's crew, examined upon oath, saith as above declared by john underwood." "james wood and john brown, mariners, belonging to the pink molly, being examined upon oath, declare as above. john brown cannot say, or knows not how many persons they took from the shore, at gibb's wharf, but is positive but two returned to boston. they both say they cant be sure whether the capt. went in the boat from the ship to the shoar." "mr. peter faneuil examined saith, that, last evening, about twelve, he was with gillam phillips, henry phillips and adam tuck at gibb's wharf, and understood by gillam phillips, that his brother henry had killed or mortally wounded mr. benja. woodbridge this evening, that henry phillips went into capt'n winslow's boat, with his brother and adam tuck with the boat's crew, where they went he knows not." such was the evidence, presented before the examining justice, on the fourth of july, , in relation to this painful, and extraordinary occurrence. i believe i have well nigh completed my operation, upon peter faneuil: but before i throw aside my professional apron, let me cast about, and see, if there are no small arteries which i have not taken up. i perceive there are. the late rev. dr. gray, of jamaica plains, on page of his half century sermon, published in , has the following passage--"_the third or jamaica plain parish, in roxbury, had its origin in the piety of an amiable female. i refer to mrs. susanna, wife of benjamin pemberton. she was the daughter of peter faneuil, who, in erected and gave to the town of boston the far-famed hall, which still bears his name; and who built also the dwelling house, now standing here, recently known, as late dr. john warren's country seat._" nothing could have been farther from the meaning of the amiable mr. gray, than a design to cast a reproach, upon the unimpeachable pedigree of this excellent lady. but peter faneuil was, unfortunately, never married. he was a bachelor; and is styled "_bachelour_," in the commission, from john, archbishop of canterbury, to judge willard, to administer the oath to benjamin faneuil, as administrator, on peter's estate. peter's estate was divided, among his brother, benjamin, and his four sisters, anne davenport, susanna boutineau, mary phillips, and mary ann jones. this fact is established, by the original indenture of marriage settlement, now before me, between john jones and mary ann faneuil, dated the very month of peter's decease. he had no daughter to inherit. mrs. susanna pemberton had not a drop of the faneuil blood, in her veins. her nearest approximation consisted in the fact, that george bethune, her own brother, married, as i have already stated, mary faneuil, peter's niece, and the daughter of benjamin. benjamin occupied that cottage, before he removed to brighton. he had also a town residence, in rear of the old brick meeting-house, which stood where joy's buildings now stand. thomas kilby was the commercial agent of peter faneuil, at canso, nova scotia, in , and . he was a gentleman of education; graduated at harvard, in , and died in , and according to pemberton, published essays, in prose and verse. not long ago, a gentleman inquired of me, if i had ever heard, that peter faneuil had a wooden leg; and related the following amusing story, which he received from his collateral ancestor, john page, who graduated at harvard, in , and died in , aged . thomas kilby was an unthrifty, and rather whimsical, gentleman. being without property and employment, he retired, either into maine, or nova scotia. there he made a will, for his amusement, having, in reality, nothing to bequeath. he left liberal sums to a number of religious, philanthropic, and literary institutions--his eyes, which were very good, to a blind relative--his body to a surgeon of his acquaintance, "excepting as hereinafter excepted"--his sins he bequeathed to a worthy clergyman, as he appeared not to have any--and the choice of his legs to peter faneuil. upon inquiry of the oldest surviving relative of peter, i found, that nothing was known of the wooden leg. a day or two after, a highly respectable and aged citizen, attracted by the articles, in the transcript, informed me, that his father, born in , told him, that he had seen peter faneuil, in his garden, and that, on one foot, he wore a very high-heeled shoe. this, probably, gave occasion to the considerate bequest of thomas kilby. the will, as my informant states, upon the authority of mr. john page, coming to the knowledge of peter, he was so much pleased with the humor of it, that, probably, having a knowledge of the _testator_ before, he sent for him, and made him his agent, at canso. peter was a kind-hearted man. the gentleman who gave me the fact, concerning the high-heeled shoe, informed me, upon his father's authority, that old andrew faneuil--the same, who, in his will, prays god, for "_the perfecting of his charities_"--put a poor, old, schoolmaster, named walker, into jail, for debt. imprisonment then, for debt, was a serious and lingering affair. peter, in the flesh--not his angel--privately paid the poor man's debt, and set the prisoner free. no. cxxxvii. those words of horace were the words of soberness and truth--_oh imitatores, vulgum pecus!_--i loathe imitators and imitations of all sorts. how cheap must that man feel, who awakens _hesterno vitio_, from yesterday's debauch, on _imitation_ gin or brandy! let no reader of the transcript suppose, that i am so far behind the times, as to question the respectability of being drunk, on the real, original scheidam or cogniac, whether at funerals, weddings, or ordinations. but i consider _imitation_ gin or brandy, at a funeral, a point blank insult to the corpse. everybody knows, that old oaks, old friendships, and old mocha must grow--they cannot be made. my horse is frightened, nearly out of his harness, almost every day of his life, by the hissing and jetting of the steam, and the clatter of the machinery, as i pass a manufactory, or grindery, of _imitation_ coffee. _imitation_ coffee! what would my old friend, melli melli, the tunisian ambassador, with whom--long, long ago--i have taken a cup of his own particular, once and again, at chapotin's hotel, in summer street, say to such a thing as this! this grindery is located, in an irish neighborhood, and there used to be a great number of irish children thereabouts. the number has greatly diminished of late. i know not why, but, as i passed, the other day, the story that dickens tells of the poor sausage-maker, whose broken buttons, among the sausage meat, revealed his unlucky destiny, came forcibly to mind. by the smell, i presume, there is a roastery, connected with the establishment; and, now i think of it, the atmosphere, round about, is filled with the odor of roast pig--a little overdone. good things, of all sorts, have stimulated the imitative powers of man, from the diamond to the nutmeg. even death--and death is a good thing to him, whose armor of righteousness is on, _cap-a-pie_--death has been occasionally imitated; and really, now and then, the thing has been very cleverly done. i refer not to cases of catalepsy or trance, nor to cases of total suspension of sensibility and voluntary motion, for a time, under the agency of sulphuric ether, or chloroform. in , at the request of her majesty's principal secretary of state, for the home department, mr. edwin chadwick, barrister at law, made "_a report on the results of a special inquiry into the practice of interment in towns_." this report is very severe upon our fraternity; but, i must confess, it is a most able and interesting performance, and full of curious detail. the demands of the english undertaker, it appears, are so oppressive upon the poor, that burial societies have been formed, upon the mutual principle. it is asserted by mr. chadwick, that parents, under the gripings of poverty, have actually poisoned their children, to obtain the burial money. at the chester assizes, several trials, for infanticide, have occurred, on these grounds. "_that child will not live, it is in the burial club_," is a cant and common phrase, among the manchester paupers. some very clever impositions, have been practised, to obtain the burial allowance. a man, living in manchester, resolved to play corpse, for this laudable object. his wife was privy to the plot, of course,--and gave notice, in proper form, of her bereavement. the agent of the society made the customary domiciliary visit. there the body lay--stiff and stark--and a very straight and proper corpse it was--the jaw decently tied up. the visitor, well convinced, and quite touched by the widow's anguish, was turning on his heel to depart, when a slight motion of the dead man's eyelid arrested his attention: he began to smell--not of the body, like the bear in Æsop--but a rat. upon feeling the pulse, he begged the chief mourner to be comforted; there was strong ground for hope! more obstinate than rachel, she not only would not be comforted, but abused the visitor, in good gaelic, for questioning her veracity. had she not laid out the daar man, her own daar tooly mashee, with her own hands! and didn't she know better than to be after laying him out, while the brith was in his daar buddy! and would she be guilty of so cruel a thing to her own good man! the doctor was called; and, after feeling the pulse, threw a bucket of water, in the face of the defunct, which resulted in immediate resurrection. the most extraordinary case of imitation death on record, and which, under the acknowledged rules of evidence, it is quite impossible to disbelieve, is that of the east india fakeer, who was buried alive at lahore, in , and at the end of forty days, disinterred, and resuscitated. this tale is, _prima facie_, highly improbable: let us examine the evidence. it is introduced, in the last english edition of sharon turner's sacred history of the world, vol. iii., in a note upon letter . the witness is sir claude m. wade, who, at the time of the fakeer's burial, and disinterment, was political resident, at loodianah, and principal agent of the english government, at the court of runjeet singh. the character of this witness is entirely above suspicion; and the reader will observe, in his testimony, anything but the marks and numbers of a credulous witness, or a dealer in the marvellous. mr. wade addressed a letter to the editor of turner's history, from which the following extracts are made:-- "i was present, at the court of runjeet singh, at lahore, in , when the fakeer, mentioned by the hon. capt. osborne, was buried alive, for six weeks; and, though i arrived, a few hours after his interment, i had the testimony of runjeet singh, himself, and others, the most credible witnesses of his court, to the truth of the fakeer having been so buried before them; and from having been present myself, when he was disinterred, and restored to a state of perfect vitality, in a position so close to him, as to render any deception impossible, it is my firm belief that there was no collusion, in producing the extraordinary fact, that i have related." mr. wade proceeds to give an account of the disinterment. "on the approach of the appointed time, according to invitation, i accompanied runjeet singh to the spot, where the fakeer had been buried. it was a square building, called, in the language of the country, _barra durree_, in the midst of one of the gardens, adjoining the palace at lahore, with an open verandah all around, having an enclosed room in the centre. on arriving there, runjeet singh, who was attended on the occasion, by the whole of his court, dismounting from his elephant, asked me to join him, in examining the building, to satisfy himself that it was closed, as he had left it. we did so. there had been an open door, on each of the four sides of the room, three of which were perfectly closed with brick and mortar. the fourth had a strong door, also closed with mud, up to the padlock, which was sealed with the private seal of runjeet singh, in his own presence, when the fakeer was interred. in fact, the exterior of the building presented no aperture whatever, by which air could be admitted, nor any communication held, by which food could possibly be conveyed to the fakeer; and i may also add, that the walls, closing the doorways, bore no marks of having been recently disturbed or removed." "runjeet singh recognized the impression of the seal, as the one, which he had affixed: and, as he was as skeptical, as any european could be, of the successful result of such an enterprise, to guard, as far as possible, against any collusion, he had placed two companies, from his own personal escort, near the building, from which four sentries were furnished, and relieved, every two hours, night and day, to guard the building from intrusion. at the same time, he ordered one of the principal officers of his court to visit the place occasionally, and report the result of his inspection to him; while he himself, or his minister, kept the seal which closed the hole of the padlock, and the latter received the reports of the officers on guard, morning and evening." "after our examination, and we had seated ourselves in the verandah, opposite the door, some of runjeet's people dug away the mud wall, and one of his officers broke the seal, and opened the padlock." "on the door being thrown open, nothing but a dark room was to be seen. runjeet singh and myself then entered it, in company with the servant of the fakeer. a light was brought, and we descended about three feet below the floor of the room, into a sort of cell, in which a wooden box, about four feet long, by three broad, with a square sloping roof, containing the fakeer, was placed upright, the door of which had also a padlock and seal, similar to that on the outside. on opening it, we saw"-- but i am reminded, by observing the point i have reached, upon my sheet of paper, that it is time to pause. there are others, who have something to say to the public, of more importance, about rum, sugar and molasses, turtle soup and patent medicine, children, that are lost, and puppies, that are found. no. cxxxviii. sir claude m. wade, the reader may remember, was proceeding thus--"on opening it," (the box containing the fakeer) "we saw a figure, enclosed in a bag of white linen, drawn together, and fastened by a string over the head; on the exposure of which a grand salute was fired, and the surrounding multitude came crowding to the door to see the spectacle. after they had gratified their curiosity, the fakeer's servant, putting his arms into the box, took the figure of his master out; and, closing the door, placed it, with his back against the door, exactly as he had been squatted, like a hindoo idol, in the box itself. runjeet singh and i then descended into the cell, which was so small, that we were only able to sit on the ground in front, and so close to the body, as to touch it with our hands and knees. the servant then began pouring warm water over the figure, but, as my object was to watch if any fraudulent practice could be detected, i proposed to runjeet singh, to tear open the bag, and have a perfect view of the body, before any means of resuscitation were attempted. i accordingly did so; and may here remark, that the bag, when first seen by us, looked mildewed, as if it had been buried for some time. the legs and arms of the body were shrivelled and stiff, the face full, as in life, and the head reclining on the shoulder, like that of a corpse." "i then called to the medical gentleman, who was attending me, to come down and inspect the body, which he did, but could discover no pulsation, in the heart, temples or the arms. there was however, a heat, about the region of the brain, which no other part of the body exhibited. the servant then commenced bathing him with hot water, and gradually relaxing his arms and legs from the rigid state, in which they were contracted; runjeet singh taking his right and left leg, to aid by friction in restoring them to their proper action, during which time the servant placed a hot wheaten cake, about an inch thick, on the top of the head--a process, which he twice or thrice repeated. he then took out of his nostrils and ears the wax and cotton plugs, with which they were stopped, and after great exertion, opened his mouth, by inserting the point of a knife between the teeth, and while holding his jaws open, with his left hand, drew the tongue forward, with the forefinger of the right, in the course of which the tongue flew back, several times, to its curved position upwards, that in which it had originally been placed, so as to close the gullet. he then rubbed his eyelids with ghee (clarified butter) for some time, till he succeeded in opening them, when the eye appeared quite motionless and glazed. after the cake had been applied for the third time, to the top of the head, the body was convulsively heaved, the nostrils became violently inflated, respiration ensued, and the limbs began to assume a natural fulness. the servant then put some ghee on his tongue, and made him swallow it. a few minutes afterwards, the eyeballs became slowly dilated, recovered their natural color, and the fakeer, recognizing runjeet singh, sitting close by him, articulated, in a low sepulchral tone, scarcely audible--'_do you believe me now?_'" "runjeet singh replied in the affirmative; and then began investing the fakeer with a pearl necklace, a superb pair of gold bracelets, shawls, and pieces of silk and muslin, forming what is called a _khilet_, such as is usually conferred, by the princes of india, on persons of distinction. from the time of the box being opened to the recovery of the voice, not more than half an hour could have elapsed; and, in another half an hour, the fakeer talked with himself and those about him freely, though feebly, like a sick person, and we then left him, convinced that there had been no fraud or collusion, in the exhibition, which we had witnessed." the hon. captain osborne, who was attached to the mission of sir william macnaughten, in the following year, , sought to persuade the fakeer to repeat the experiment, and to suffer the keys of the vault to remain in captain osborne's custody. at this the fakeer became alarmed, though he afterwards consented, and, at the request of runjeet singh, he came to lahore for the purpose; but, as he expressed a strong apprehension, that captain osborne intended to destroy him, and as sir william macnaughten and his suite were about to depart, the matter was given up. this is related by captain osborne, in his "court and camp of runjeet singh." after avowing his entire belief in all the facts, set forth in the previous narrative, sir claude m. wade remarks--"i took some pains to inquire into the mode, by which such a result was effected; and was informed, that it rested on a doctrine of the hindoo physiologists, that heat constitutes the self existent principle of life; and, that, if the functions are so far destroyed, as to leave that one, in perfect purity, life could be sustained for considerable lengths of time, independently of air, food, or any other means of sustenance. to produce such a state, the patients are obliged to go through a severe preparation. how far such means are calculated to produce such effects physiologists will be better able to judge than i can pretend to do. i only state what i saw, and heard, and think." this narrative certainly belongs to the very first part of the very first book of very wonderful things. but this marvellous book is no longer a closed volume. millions of ingenious fingers have, for fifty years, been busily employed, in breaking its mysterious seals, one after another. demonstration has trampled upon doubt, and the world is rapidly coming to my shrewd old grandmother's conclusion, that nothing is so truly wonderful, as that we wonder at all. there is nothing more difficult, than to exonerate the mind from the weight of its present consciousness, and to wonder by rule. we readily lose the recollection of our doubt and derision, upon former occasions, when matters, apparently quite as absurd and impossible, are presented for contemplation, _de novo_. if putrefaction can be kept off, mere animal life, the vital principle, may be preserved, for a prodigious length of time, in the lower ranks of animal creation, while in a state of torpidity. dr. gillies relates, that he bottled up some _cerastes_, a species of small snakes, and kept them corked tight, with nothing in the bottle, but a little sand, for several years; and, when the bottle was uncorked, they came forth, revived by the air, and immediately acquired their original activity. more than fifty years ago, having read dr. franklin's account of the flies, which he discovered, drowned, in a bottle of old wine, and which he restored to life, by exposure to the sun's rays; i bottled up a dozen flies, in a small phial of madeira--took them out, at the expiration of a month--and placed them under a glass tumbler, in a sunny window. within half an hour, nine revived; got up; walked about, wiped their faces with their fore legs; trimmed their wings, with their hinder ones; and began to knock their heads, against the tumbler, to escape. after waiting a couple of hours, to give the remaining three a fair chance, but to no purpose, and expecting nothing from the humane society, for what i had already accomplished, i returned the nine to their wine bath, in the phial. after rather more than three months, i repeated the experiment of resuscitation. after several hours, two gave evidence of revival, got upon their legs, reeled against each other, and showed some symptoms of _mania a potu_. at length they were fairly on their trotters. i lifted the tumbler; they took the hint, and flew to the window glass. it was fly time. i watched one of those, who had profited by the revival--he got four or five flies about him, who really seemed to be listening to the account of his experience. "ants, bees, and wasps," says sharon turner, in his sacred history, vol. i. ch. , "especially the smallest of these, the ants, do things, and exercise sensibilities, and combine for purposes, and achieve ends, that bring them nearer to mankind, than any other class of animated nature." aye, i know, myself, some of our fellow-citizens, who make quite a stir, in their little circles, petty politicians, who extort responses from great men, and show them, _in confidence_, to all they meet--overgrown boys, in bands and cassocks, who, for mere exercise, edit religious newspapers, and scribble _treason_, under the name of _ethics_--who, in respect to all the qualities, enumerated by sharon turner, are decidedly inferior to pismires. the hybernation of various animals furnishes analogous examples of the matter, under consideration. a suspension of faculties and functions, for a considerable time, followed by a periodical restoration of their use, forms a part of the natural history of certain animals. those forty days--that wonderful quarantine of the fakeer, in the tomb, and his subsequent restoration, are marvels. i have presented the facts, upon the evidence of sir claude m. wade. every reader will philosophize, upon this interesting matter, for himself. if such experiments can be made, for forty days, it is not easy to comprehend the necessity of such a limit. if trustees were appointed, and gave bonds to keep the tomb comfortable, and free from rats, and to knock up a corpse, at the time appointed, forty years, or an hundred, might answer quite as well. what visions are thus opened to the mind. an author might go to sleep, and wake up in the midst of posterity, and find himself an entire stranger. weary partners might find a temporary respite, in the grave, and leave directions, to be called, in season to attend the funeral. the heir expectant of some tenacious ancestor might thus dispose of the drowsy and unprofitable interval. the gentleman of _petite fortune_ might suffer it to accumulate, in the hands of trustees, and wake up, after twenty or thirty years, a man of affluence. instead of making up a party for the pyramids, half a dozen merry fellows might be buried together, with the pleasant prospect of rising again in . no use whatever being made of the time thus relinquished, and the powers of life being husbanded in the interim, years would pass uncounted, of course; and he, who was buried, at twenty-one, would be just of age when he awoke. i should like, extremely, to have the opinion of the fakeer, upon these interesting points. no. cxxxix. "and much more honest to be hir'd, and stand with auctionary hammer in thy hand, provoking to give more, and knocking thrice, for the old household stuff or picture's price." dryden. old customs, dead and buried, long ago, do certainly come round again, like old comets; but, whether in their appointed seasons, or not, i cannot tell. whether old usages, and old chairs, and old teapots revolve in their orbits, or not, i leave to the astronomers. it would be very pleasant to be able to calculate the return of hoops, cocked hats, and cork rumpers, buffets, pillions, links, pillories, and sedans. i noticed the following paragraph, in the evening transcript, not long ago, and it led me to turn over some heaps of old relics, in my possession-- "a substitute for the everlasting 'going, going, gone,' was introduced at a recent auction in new york. the auctioneer held up a sand-glass, through which the sand occupied fourteen seconds in passing. if a person made a bid, the glass was held up in view of all, and if no person advanced on the bid before the sand passed through, the sale was made. this idea is a novel one, though we believe it has long been practised in europe." it was formerly the custom in england, to sell goods, at auction, "by inch of candle." an inch of candle was lighted, and the company proceeded to bid, the last crier or bidder, before the candle went out, was declared the purchaser. samuel pepys, who was secretary of the admiralty, in the reigns of the two last stuarts, repeatedly refers to the practice, in his diary. thus, in braybrook's edition, of , he says, vol. i. page , under date nov. , --"to our office, where we met all, for the sale of two ships, by an inch of candle, (the first time that i saw any of this kind,) where i observed how they do invite one another, and at last how they all do cry; and we have much to do to tell who did cry last." again, ibid., vol. ii. page , sept. , --"after dinner, we met and sold the weymouth, successe, and fellowship hulkes, where pleasant to see how backward men are at first to bid; and yet, when the candle is going out, how they bawl, and dispute afterwards who bid the most first. and here i observed one man cunninger than the rest, that was sure to bid the last man, and carry it; and, inquiring the reason, he told me, that, just as the flame goes out, the smoke descends, which is a thing i never observed before, and, by that he do know the instant when to bid last." again, ibid., vol. iv. page , ap. , , he refers to certain prize goods, "bought lately at the candle." haydn says this species of auction, by inch of candle is derived from a practice, in the roman catholic church. where there is an excommunication, by inch of candle, and the sinner is allowed to come to repentance, while yet the candle burns. the sinner is supposed, of course, to be _going--going--gone_--unless he avails of the opportunity to bid, as it were, for his salvation. this naturally reminds the reader of the spiritual distich-- "for while the lamp holds out to burn, the vilest sinner may return." where the bids are, from a maximum, downward, the term--_auction_--is still commonly, though improperly employed, and in the very teeth of all etymology. when i was a boy, the poor, in many of our country towns, were disposed of, in this manner. the question was, who would take daddy osgood, one of the town's poor, for the smallest weekly sum, to be paid by the town. the old man was started, at four shillings, and bid down to a minimum. there was yet a little work in his old bones; and i well remember one of these auctions, in , in the town of billerica, at which dr. william bowers bid off daddy osgood, for two and sixpence. the dutch have a method of selling fresh fish, which is somewhat analogous to this, and very simple and ingenious. an account of it may be found, in dodsley's annual register, for , vol. iii. page . the salesman is called the affslager. the fish are brought in, in the morning, and placed on the ground, near the fish stalls of the retailers. at ten, precisely, the affslager rings his bell, which may be heard, for half a mile. retailers, and individual consumers collect, and the affslager--the auctioneer--puts up a lot, at a maximum price. no one offers a less sum, but the mynheers stand round, sucking at their pipes, and puffing away, and saying nothing. when the affslager becomes satisfied, that nobody will buy the lot, at the price named, he gradually lowers it, until one of the mynheers takes his pipe from his mouth and cries "_mine!_" in high dutch. he is, of course, the purchaser; and the affslager proceeds to the sale of another lot. it will be seen, from one of the citations from pepys, that some of _the auctions_ of his time were called _the candles_; precisely as the auctions, at rome, were called _hastæ_; a spear or _hasta_, instead of a flag, being the customary signal for the sale. the proper word, however, was _auctio_, and the auctioneer was called _auctor_. notice of the sale was given, by the crier, _a præcone prædicari_, plaut. men., v. , , or, by writing on tables. such is the import of _tabulum proscripsit_, in cicero's letter to his brother quintus, ii. . in the year , passing through the streets of natchez, i saw a slave, walking along, and ringing a bell, as he went; the bell very much resembled our cowbells, in size and form. upon a signal from a citizen, the slave stopped ringing, and walked over to him, and stood before him, till he had read the advertisement of a sale at auction, placarded on the breast of the slave, who then went forward, ringing his bell, as before. the romans made their bids, by lifting the finger; and the auctioneer added as many _sesterces_, as he thought amounted to a reasonable bid. cicero uses this expression in his fine oration against verres, i --_digitum tollit junius patruus--junius, his paternal uncle, raised his finger_, that is, he made a bid. the employment of a spear, as the signal of an auction sale, is supposed to have arisen from the fact, that the only articles, originally sold, in this manner, were the spoils of war. subsequently, the spear--_hasta_--came to be universally used, to signify a _sale at auction_. the auction of pompey's goods, by cæsar, is repeatedly alluded to, by cicero, with great severity, as the _hasta cæsaris_. a passage may be found, in his treatise, _de officiis_, ii. , and another, in his eighth philippic, sec. --"invitus dico, sed dicendum est. hasta cæsaris, patres conscripti, multis improbis spem affert, et audaciam. viderunt enim, ex mendicis fieri repente divites: itaque hastam semper videre cupiunt ii, qui nostris bonis imminent; quibus omnia pollicetur antonius." i say it reluctantly, but it must be said--cæsar's auction, conscript fathers, inflames the hopes and the insolence of many bad men. for they see how immediately, the merest beggars are converted into men of wealth. therefore it is that those, who are hankering after our goods and chattels, and to whom antony has promised all things, are ever longing to behold such another auction, as that. the auctioneer's bell, in use, at the hague, in , was introduced into boston, seventy-seven years ago, by mr. bicker, whose auction-room was near the market. having given some offence to the public, he inserted the following notice, in the boston gazette and country journal, monday, april , --"as the method, lately practised by the subscriber, in having a person at his door, to invite gentlemen and others to his public sales--has given dissatisfaction to some (gentlemen shopkeepers in particular) to avoid giving offence for the future, he shall desist from that practice, and pursue one (as follows) which he flatters himself cannot fail giving universal satisfaction, as he sincerely wishes so to do. the public are most earnestly requested to remember (_for their own advantage_) that, for the future, notice will be given, by sounding a bell, which he has purchased for that purpose, which is erected over the auction room door, near the market, boston, where constant attendance is given both early and late, to receive the favors of all such who are pleased to confer on their _much obliged, most obedient, and very humble servant_, m. bicker." albeit there is no less bickering or dickering here now, than of yore, yet bicker and his bell have gone, long ago, to the "receptacle of things lost upon earth." the very name is no more. haydn says, the first auction in britain was about , by elisha yale, a governor of fort george, in the east indies, of the goods he had brought home with him. that mr. haydn must be mistaken is manifest, from the citation from pepys, who speaks of auctions, by inch of candle, as early as ; and not then as a novelty, but the first of the kind that he had witnessed. fosbroke says, in his antiquities, page --"in the middle age, the goods were cried and sold to the highest bidder, and the sound of a trumpet added with a very loud noise. the use of the spear was retained, the auctions being called _subhastationes_; and the _subhastator_, or auctioneer, was sworn to sell the goods faithfully. in nares, we have, _sold at a pike or spear_, i. e. by public auction or outcry; and auctions called _port sales_, because originally, perhaps, sales made in ports--the crier stood under the spear, as in the roman æra, and was, in the thirteenth century, called _cursor_." of late, _mock auctions_, as they are termed, have become a very serious evil, especially in the city of new york. in petitions, in regard to these public impositions, were sent to the lords of the treasury, from many of the principal cities of great britain. in a select committee reported, very fully, upon this subject, to the british parliament. this committee, after long and critical investigation, reported, that great frauds were constantly committed on the public, by _mock_ or fraudulent _auctions_. the committee set forth several examples of this species of knavery. goods are sold, as the furniture of gentlemen, going abroad. for this purpose, empty houses are hired for a few days, and filled with comparatively worthless furniture. articles of the most inferior manufacture are made for the express purpose of being put into such sales, as the property of individuals of known character and respectability. to impose, more effectually, on the public, the names of the most respectable auctioneers have been used, with the variation of a letter. this bears some analogy to the legislative change of name, in this city, for the purpose of facilitating the sale of inferior pianos. respectable auctioneers have been compelled, in self-defence, to appear at such mock auctions, and disclaim all connection therewith. great masses of cutlery and plated ware of base manufacture, with london makers' names, and advertised, as made in london, are constantly sold, at these auctions; forcing the london makers to appear at the sales rooms, and expose the fraud. the committee say that no imposition is more common than the sale of ordinary wine, in bottles, as the _bonne bouche_ of some respectable amphitryon deceased. they farther state, that daring men are known to combine, attend real sales, and by various means, drive respectable purchasers away, purchase at their own price, and afterwards privately sell, under a form of public sale, among themselves, at _knock out_ auctions, as they are called. the committee recommended an entire revision of the auction laws--an increase of the license--heavier penalties for violation--no sale, without previous exposure of the goods for twenty-four hours, or printed catalogue--name and address of the auctioneer to be published--severe penalty, for using a fictitious name, &c. the whole advertising system of mock auctions, like that, connected with the kindred impostures of quackery and patent medicines, furnishes a vast amount of curious and entertaining reading; and affords abundant scope, for the exercise of a vicious ingenuity. i have heard of a horse, that could not be compelled, by whip or spur, to cross a bridge, which lay in the way to his owner's country residence--the horse was advertised to be sold at auction for no fault but that his owner was _desirous of going out of the city_. no. cxl. few things are more difficult, than shaving a cold corpse, and making, what the _artistes_ call _a good job of it_. i heard robert new say so, forty years ago, who kept his shop, at the north--easterly corner of scollay's buildings. he said the barber ought to be called, as soon, as the breath was out of the body, and a little before, if it was a clear case, and you wished the corpse "_to look wholesome_." i think he was right. pope's narcissa said-- "one need not sure be ugly, though one's dead." there is considerable mystery, in shaving a living corpse. i find it so; and yet i have always shaved myself; for i have never been able to overcome a strong, hereditary prejudice, against being taken by the nose. my razor is very capricious; so, i suppose, is everybody's razor. there is a deep and mystical philosophy, about the edge of a razor, which seems to have baffled the most scientific; and is next of kin to witchcraft. a tract, by cotton mather, upon this subject, would be invaluable. the scholar will smile, at any comparison, between pliny the elder and cotton mather. so far, as respects the scope of knowledge, and power of intellect, and inexhaustible treasures, displayed in pliny's thirty-seven books of natural history, one might as well compare hyperion to a mummy. i allude to nothing but the _magnalia_ or _improbabilia_; and, upon this point of comparison, mather, witchcraft and all fairly fade out of sight, before the marvels and fantastical stories of pliny. in lib. xxviii. , pliny assigns a very strange cause, why _aciem in cultris tonsorum hebetescere_--why the edge of a barber's razor is sometimes blunted. the reader may look it up, if he will--it is better in a work, _sub sigillo latinitatis_, than in an english journal. i have often put my razor down, regretting, that my beard did not spread over a larger area; so keenly and agreeably has the instrument performed its work. it really seemed, that i might have shaved a sleeping mouse, without disturbing his repose. after twelve hours, that very razor, untouched the while, has come forth, no better than a pot-sherd. the very reverse of all this has also befallen me. i once heard revaillon, our old french barber, say, that a razor could not be strapped with too light a hand; and the english proverb was always in his mouth--"a good lather is half the shave." some persons suppose the razor to be an instrument, of comparatively modern invention, and barbers to have sprung up, at farthest, within the christian era. it is written, in isaiah vii. , "in the same day shall the lord shave with a razor, that is hired," &c. ezekiel began to prophecy, according to calmet, years before christ: in the first verse of ch. v. he says--"take thee a sharp knife, take thee a barber's razor, and cause it to pass upon thy head and upon thy beard." to cause a razor _to pass upon the beard_ seems to mean something very different from _shaving_, in the common sense of that word. doubtless, it does: the _culter_ or _novacula_, that is, _the razor_, of the ancients, was employed, for _shearing_ or _shortening_, as well as for _shaving_ the beard. barbers were first known, among the romans a. u. c. , i. e. years before christ. pliny says, vii. --sequens gentium consensus in tonsoribus fuit, sed romanis tardior. in italiam ex sicilia venere post romam conditam anno quadringentessimo quinquagessimo quarto, adducente p. ticinio mena, ut auctor est varro: antea intonsi fuere. primus omnium radi quotidie instituit africanus sequens: divus augustus cultris semper usus est. then barbers came into use, among the nations, but more slowly among the romans. in the year of the city , according to varro, p. ticinius mena introduced barbers into italy from sicily: until that time, men wore their beards. the latter africanus first set the example of being shaven daily. augustus constantly used razors. the passage of varro, referred to by pliny, showing, that, before a. u. c. , men wore their beards, states the fact to be established, by the long beards, on all the old male statues. that _passing of the sharp knife or razor, upon the beard_, spoken of, by ezekiel, i take to be the latter of the two modes, employed by the romans--"vel strictim, hoc est, ad cutem usque; vel paulo longius a cute, interposito pectine"--either close to the skin, or with a comb interposed. that both modes were in use is clear from the lines of plautus in his play of the captives, act ii. sc. , v. -- nunc senex est in tonstrina; nunc jam cultros adtinet; sed utrum strictimne adtonsurum dicam esse, an per pectinem, nescio. now the old man is in the barber's shop and under the razor; but whether to be close shaved, or clipped with the comb, i know not. pliny, as we have seen, states, that the practice came from sicily. there it had been long in use. there is a curious reference to the custom in cicero's tusculan questions, v. . speaking of the tyrant, dionysius he says--quin etiam ne tonsori collum committeret, tondere suas filias docuit. ita sordido ancillarique artificio regiæ virgines, ut tonstriculæ tondebant barbam et capillum patris. for, not liking to trust his throat to a barber, he taught his daughters to shave him, and thus these royal virgins, descending to this coarse, servile vocation, became little, she barbers, and clipped their father's beard and hair. there is a curious passage in pliny which not only proves, that barbers' shops were common in his time, but shows the very ancient employment of cobweb, as a styptic. in lib. xxix. , he says--fracto capiti aranei tela ex oleo et aceto imposita, non nisi vulnere sanato, abscedit. hæc et vulneribus tonstrinarum sanguinem sistit. spiders' web, with oil and vinegar, applied to a broken head, adheres, till the wound heals. this also stops the bleeding from cuts, in barbers' shops. razors were sharpened, some two thousand years ago, very much as they are at present. pliny devotes sec. , lib. xxxvi. to hones and whetstones, oil stones and water stones--quarta ratio--he says--est saliva hominis proficientium in torstrinarum officinis--the fourth kind is such as are used in the barbers' shops, and which the man softens with his saliva. most common, proverbial sayings are, doubtless, of great antiquity. chopping-blocks with a razor is a common illustration of the employment of a subtle ingenuity, upon coarse and uninteresting topics. thus goldsmith, in his retaliation, says of burke-- in short, 'twas his fate, unemploy'd, or in place, sir, to eat mutton cold, and chop blocks with a razor. the latter illustration is as old as livy--_novacula cotem discindere_. the romans made a prodigious fuss, about their beards. the first crop, called _prima barba_, and sometimes _lanugo_, was, according to petronius, consecrated to some god. suetonius says, in his life of nero, --gymnico quod in septis edebat, inter buthysiæ apparatum, barbam primam posuit, conditamque in auream pyxidem, et pretiosissimis margaritis adornatam, capitolio consecravit.--during the games, which he had given in the enclosures, and in the very midst of the splendor of the sacrifice, for the first time, he laid down his beard, and having placed it in a golden box, adorned with precious stones, he made a sacred deposit thereof, in the capitol. after the custom of shaving had been introduced, by mena, a. u. c. , it went out, for a short time, in rome, during the time of adrian, who as spartianus relates, in his life of that emperor, having some ugly excrescences on his chin, suffered his beard to grow to conceal them--of course the courtiers followed the example of the emperor--the people, that of the courtiers. the grave concealed those excrescences, more effectually, a. d. , and the _navacula_ again came into use, among the romans: marcus antoninus, his successor, had no excrescences on his chin. the day, upon which a young roman was said _ponere barbam_, that is, to shave for the first time, was accounted a holiday; and juvenal says, iii. , he received presents from his friends. ovid, trist. iv. , , dates his earliest literary exhibitions, before the people, by his first or second shave, or clip-- carmina quum primum populo juvenilia legi, barba resecta mihi bisve semelve fuit. which may be thus translated-- when first in public i began to read my boyish rhymes, i scarcely could be call'd a man, and had not shav'd three times. cæsar says of the britons, b. g. v. --omni parte corporis rasa, præter caput et labrum superius--they shave entirely, excepting the head and upper lip. half-shaving was accounted, in the days of samuel, i suppose, as reducing the party to a state of semi-_barbarism_: thus, in samuel ii. x. --"wherefore hanan took david's servants, and shaved off the one half of their beards." to be denied the privilege of shaving was accounted dishonorable, among the catti, a german nation, in the days of tacitus; for he says, de moribus germanæ, --apud cattos in consensum vertit, ut primum adoleverint, crinem barbamque submittere, nec, nisi hoste cæso--it was settled among the catti, that no young man should cut his hair, or shave his beard, till he had killed his man. seneca, cons. polyb. xxxvi. , blames caius, for refusing to shave, because he had lost his sister--idem ille caius furiosa in constantia, modo barbam capillumque submittens--there is that caius, clinging so absurdly to his sorrow, and suffering his hair and beard to grow on account of it. there is an admirable letter, from seneca to lucillus, ep. , which shows, that the dandies, in old rome, were much like our own. he is speaking of those--qui vellunt barbam, aut intervellunt; qui labra pressius tondent et abradunt, servata et submissa cætera parte--who pull out the beard, by the roots, or particular parts of it--who clip and shave the hair, either more closely, or leave it growing, on some parts of their lips. juvenal, ii. , and martial, vi. , , laugh at such, as use a mirror while shaving. knives and razors of _brass_, are of great antiquity, according to the archæological Æliana, p. .--fosbroke, p. , says, that razors are mentioned by homer. but i am going to a funeral, this afternoon, as an amateur, and it is time for me to shave--not with a razor of brass, however--pradier is too light for me--i use the chinese. hutchinson, i. , says, that leverett was the first governor of massachusetts, who is painted without a beard, and that he laid it aside, in cromwell's court. china is the paradise of barbers. there, according to mr. davis, they abound. no man shaves himself, the part, to be shorn, being out of his reach. there would be no difficulty in removing the scanty hair upon their chins; but the exact tonsure of the crown, without removing one hair from the chinaman's long tail, that reaches to his heels, is a delicate affair. their razors are very heavy, but superlatively keen. no. cxli. barbers were chiefly peripatetics, when i was a boy. they ran about town, and shaved at their customers' houses. there were fewer shops. this was the genteel mode in rome. the wealthy had their domestic barbers, as the planters have now, among their slaves. i am really surprised, that we hear of so few throats cut at the south. some evidence of this custom--not of cutting throats--may be found, in one of the neatest epitaphs, that ever was written; the subject of which, a very young and accomplished slave-barber, has already taken a nap of eighteen hundred years. i refer to martial's _epitaphium_, on pantagathus, a word, which, by the way, signifies one, who is good at everything, or, as we say--a man of all works. it is the fifty-second, of book vi. its title is _epitaphium pantagathi, tonsoris_: hoc jacet in tumulo raptus puerilibus annis pantagathus, domini cura, dolorque sui, vix tangente vagos ferro resecare capillos doctus, et hirsutas excoluisse genas. sic, licet, ut debes, tellus placata, levisque; artificis levior non potes esse manu. in attempting a version of this, i feel, as if i were about to disfigure a pretty spinster, with a mob-cap. here lies pantagathus, the slave, petted he liv'd, and died lamented; no youth, like him could clip and shave, since shears and razors were invented. so light his touch, you could not feel the razor, while your cheeks were smoothing; and sat, unconscious of the steel, the operation was so soothing. oh, mother earth, appeas'd, since thou back to thy grasping arms hast won him, soft be thy hand, like his, and now lie thou, in mercy, lightly on him. rochester was right; few things were ever benefited, by translation, but a bishop. the _tonstrinæ_, or barbers' shops, in rome, were seldom visited by any, but the humbler classes. they were sometimes called the _shades_. horace, ep. i. , , describes philippus, an eminent lawyer, as struck with sudden envy, upon seeing vulteius mena, the beadle, sitting very much at ease, in one of these shades, after having been shaved, and leisurely cleaning his own nails, an office commonly performed by the barbers:-- adrasum quendam vacua tonsoris in umbra, cultello proprios purgantem leniter ungues. there were she-barbers, in rome, residing in the _saburra_ and _argiletum_, very much such localities, as "_the hill_," formerly in boston, or _anthony street_, in new york. martial describes one of these _tonstrices_, ii. -- tonstrix saburræ fancibus sedet primis, etc. some there were, of a better order. plautus, terence, and theophrastus have many allusions to the barbers' shops. they have ever been the same "_otiosorum conciliabula_," that they were, when terence wrote--resorts of the idle and garrulous. in old times--very--not now, of course--not now, a dressmaker, who was mistress of her business, knew that she was expected to turn out so much work, and so much _slander_. that day has fortunately gone by. but the "barber's tale" is the very thing that it was, in the days of oliver goldsmith, and it was then the very thing, that it was, as i verily believe, in the days of ezekiel. there are many, who think, that a good story, not less than a good lather, is half the shave. it is quite _in rerum natura_, that much time should be consumed, in waiting, at the _tonstrinæ_--the barbers' shops; and to make it pass agreeably, the craft have always been remarkable, for the employment of sundry appliances--amusing pictures around the walls--images and mechanical contrivances--the daily journals--poodles, monkeys, squirrels, canaries, and parrots. in the older countries, a barber's boy was greatly in request, who could play upon the _citterne_, or some other musical instrument. if there had not been a curious assemblage of _materiel_, in an old roman _tonstrina_, it would not have been selected as an object for the pencil. that it was so selected, however, appears from a passage in pliny, xxxv. . he is writing of pureicus--arte paucis postferendus: proposito, nescio an destruxerit se: quoniam humilia quidem sequutus, humilitatis tamen summam adeptus est gloriam. tonstrinas, sutrinasque pinxit, et asellos, et obsonia, ac similia--he had few superiors in his art: i know not if the plan he adopted was fatal to his fame; for, though his subjects were humble, yet, in their representation, he attained the highest excellence. he painted barbers' and shoemakers' shops, asses, eatables, and the like. a rude sketch of heemskerck's picture of a barber's shop lies now upon my table. here is the poodle, with a cape and fool's cap, walking on his hind legs--the suspended bleeding basin, and other et cætera of the profession. little is generally known, as to the origin and import of the barber's pole. at the beginning of the sixteenth century, surgery was in such low repute, that farriers, barbers, sow-spayers, and surgeons were much upon a level. the truth of this, in respect to surgeons and barbers, has been established by law: and, for about two hundred years, both in london and paris, they were incorporated, as one company. i remember a case, reported by espinasse--not having the book at hand, i cannot indicate the volume and page--which shows the judicial estimate of surgery then, compared with the practice of physic. a physician's fees, in england, were accounted _quiddam honorarium_, and not _matter of lucre_, and therefore could not be recovered, in an action at law. upon an action brought for surgical services, the fees were recoverable, because surgeons, upon the testimony of dr. mead, were of a lower grade, having nothing to do with the pathology of diseases, and never prescribing; but simply performing certain mechanical acts; and being, like all other artificers and operatives, worthy of their hire. nothing can more clearly exhibit the low state of this noble science, at the time, and the humble estimation of it, by the public. chirurgery seemed destined to grovel, in etymological bondage, [greek: cheir ergon], a mere _handicraft_. barbers and surgeons were incorporated, as one company, in the fifteenth century, in the reign of edward iv., and were called barber-surgeons. at the close of the sixteenth century, ambrose paré, the greatest surgeon of his time in france, did not reject the appellation of _barber-surgeon_. henry viii. dissolved this union, and gave a new charter in , when it was enacted, that "_no person, using any shaving or barbery in london, shall occupy any surgery, letting of blood, or other matter, excepting only the drawing of teeth_." the _barber-surgeon_ was thus reduced to the _barber-dentist_, which seems not so agreeable to the practitioner, at present, as the loftier appellation of _surgeon-dentist_. sterne was right: there is something in a name. the british surgeons obtained a new charter, in , and another, in , and various acts have been subsequently passed, on their behalf. july , , lord thurlow, in the house of peers, opposed a new bill, which the surgeons desired to have passed. thurlow was a man of morose temperament, and uncertain humor. he averred, that so much of the old law was in force, that, to use his own words, "the barbers and surgeons were each to use a pole, the barbers were to have theirs blue and white, striped, with no other appendage; but the surgeons', which was the same, in other respects, was likewise to have a gallipot and a red rag, to denote the particular nature of their vocation." brand, in his popular antiquities, says, that the barber's pole, used in bleeding, is represented, in an illuminated missal, of the time of edward i., longshanks, whose reign began in . fosbroke, in his encyc. of antiquities, page , says--"a staff, bound by a riband, was held, by persons being bled, and the pole was intended to denote the practice of phlebotomy." according to lord thurlow's statement, in the house of peers, the pole was required, by the statute, to be used, as a sign. the first statute, incorporating the barber-surgeons, was that of edward iv., as i have stated. the missal of edward i., referred to by brand, shows, that the usage was older than the law, and, doubtless, that the popular emblem was adopted, in the statute, to which lord thurlow refers, as still in force, in . in brand's newcastle, i find, that "it is ordered, dec. , , that periwig-making be considered part and branch of the company of barber-_chirurgeons_." the history of the pole is this: a staff about three feet high, with a ball on the top, and inserted, at the bottom, in a small cross-piece, was very convenient for the person to hold, who extended his arm, as he sat down, to be bled; and a fillet, or tape, was equally convenient for the ligature. these things the barber-surgeons kept, in a corner of their shops; and, when not in use, the tape or fillet was wound or twirled round the staff. when the lawgivers called for a sign, no apter sign could be given unto them, than this identical staff and fillet; much larger of course, and to be seen of men much farther. no. cxlii. ancient plays abound with allusions to the barber's _citterne_, or lute, upon which not only he himself, and his apprentices were accustomed to play, but all the loiterers in the _tonstrina_. much of all this may be found, in the glossary of archdeacon nares, under the article citterne, and in fosbroke's antiquities. the commonness of its use gave rise to a proverb. in the silent woman, act ii., scene , ben jonson avails of it. morose had married a woman, recommended by his barber, and whose fidelity he suspected, and the following passage occurs, between morose and truewit. lond., , iii. . _morose._ that cursed barber! _truewit._ yes, faith, a cursed wretch indeed, sir. _morose._ i have married his _cittern_, that's common to all men. upon this passage is the following note--"it appears from innumerable passages, in our old writers, that barbers' shops were furnished with some musical instrument, commonly a cittern or guitar, for the amusement of such customers as chose to strum upon it, while waiting for their turn to be shaved, &c. it should be recollected, that the patience of customers, if the shop was at all popular, must, in those tedious days of love-locks, and beards of most fantastical cuts, have been frequently put to very severe trials. some kind of amusement therefore was necessary, to beguile the time." in old times, in old england, barbers were in the habit of making a variety of noises, with their fingers and their shears, which noises were supposed to be agreeable to their customers. fosbroke, p. , refers to lily's old play of mydas, iii. , as showing the existence of the custom, in his time. lily was born about . there were some, who preferred to be shaved and dressed quietly. nares, in his glossary, refers to plutarch, de garrulitate, for an anecdote of king archelaus, who stipulated with his barber to shave him in silence. this barbers' trick was called the "_knack with the fingers_;" and was extremely disagreeable to morose, in ben jonson's play, to which i have referred. thus, in i. , clerimont, speaking of the partiality of morose for cutbeard, the barber, says--"the fellow trims him silently, and has not the knack with his shears or his fingers: and that continence in a barber he thinks so eminent a virtue, as it has made him chief of his counsel." as barbers were brought first into rome, from sicily, so the best razors, according to nares and fosbroke, before the english began to excel in cutlery, were obtained in palermo. their form was unlike those now in use, and seems more perfectly to correspond with one of the roman names, signifying a razor, i. e. _culter_. the blade, like that of a pruning knife, or sickle, curved slightly inward, the reverse of which is the modern form. smith, in his ancient topography of london, says--"the flying barber is a character now no more to be seen in london, though he still remains in some of our country villages: he was provided with a napkin, soap, and pewter basin, the form of which may be seen, in many of the illustrative prints of don quixote. his chafer was a deep leaden vessel, something like a chocolate pot, with a large ring or handle, at the top; this pot held about a quart of water, boiling hot; and, thus equipped, he flew about to his customers." old randle holme says, "_perawickes_" were very common in his time, about , though unused before "contrary to our forefathers, who wore their own hair." a barber, in paris, to recommend his bag wigs, hung over his door the sign of absalom. hone, i. , states that a periwig-maker, to recommend his wares, turned the reason into rhyme: "oh, absalom, oh absalom, oh absalom, my son, if thou hadst worn a periwig, thou hadst not been undone." hutchinson, i. , says periwigs were an eyesore in new england, for thirty years after the restoration of charles ii. among the romans, after mena introduced the practice of shaving, those, who professed philosophy, still maintained their dignity, and their beards, as an _ecce signum_. hence the expression of horace, sat. ii. , , _sapientem pascere barbam_: and of persius, iv. , when speaking of socrates: barbatum hæc crede magistrum dicere, sorbitio tollit quem dira cicutæ. of those, who wear beards, at the present day, it has been computed, that, for one philosopher, there are five hundred fools, at the very lowest estimate. manage them as you will, they are troublesome appendages; of very questionable cleanliness; and mightily in the way of such, as are much addicted to gravy and spoon victual. like the burden of our sins, the postprandial odor of them must be sometimes intolerable. what an infinite variety of colors we have now-a-days! bottom, in midsummer night's dream, i. , is in doubt, what beard he shall play pyramus in, and, at last, he says--"i will discharge it in either your straw-colored beard, your orange tawny beard, your purple ingrain beard, or your french crown-colour beard, your perfect yellow." now i can honestly aver, that every fifth dandy i meet, looks precisely like bottom, performing pyramus. now and then, i meet a fine, full, black beard; but, even then, it seems to me, that the proud satisfaction the fortunate proprietor must feel, in going about town with it, must be, in some degree, counterbalanced, by the necessity of sleeping in it, during the summer solstice. the fancy colors, proposed by bottom, refer to the dyes, in use, at the period, when bottom flourished. indeed, dyeing the beard is of the highest antiquity. i have no authority that aaron dyed his. in , john bulwer published his "anthropo-metamorphosis," or artificial changeling, a very able and curious production. for the antiquity of the silly practice of dyeing the beard, he refers to strabo. old john bulwer, ch. ix., comments, with just severity, upon the conduct of those ancient fools, who adopt the practice--"_in every haire of these old coxcombs, you shall meet with three divers and sundry colors; white at the roots, yellow in the middle, and black at the point, like unto one of your parrat's feathers_." what a graphic description of this nasty appendage! it has ever been to me a matter of infinite surprise, how any mortal can presume to say his prayers, with one of these pied abominations on his chin; giving the lie direct to the volume of inspiration, which avers that he cannot make one hair black nor white. another mystery--how can any man's better half become reconciled to a husband, dyed thus, in the wool! the colors are not all fast colors, i believe; and are liable to be rubbed off, by attrition. beards were cultivated, to such an excess, in elizabeth's time, as to require and receive a check from the legislature. "the growth of beards," says nares, in his glossary, "was regulated by statute, at lincoln's inn, in the time of eliz.--primo eliz. it was ordered, that no fellow of that house should wear a beard above a fortnight's growth. transgression was punished with fine, loss of commons, and finally expulsion. but fashion prevailed, and in november, the following year, all previous orders, touching beards, were repealed." it was formerly calculated, by lord stanhope, that the sum, expended upon snuff, and the value of the time, consumed in taking it, and the cost of snuff-boxes, handkerchiefs, &c., if duly invested, would pay off the national debt. i have a proposal to offer, and i offer it, timidly and respectfully, for the consideration of those amiable females, who go about, so incessantly, doing good. perhaps i may not be able to awaken their interest, more effectually, than by suggesting the idea, that here is a very fair opportunity, for the formation of another female auxiliary society. i take it for granted, that there are some of these bearded gentlemen, from whom contributions in money, could not easily be obtained, for any benevolent object. there are some, whose whole estate, real, personal, and mixed, comprehends very little, beyond a costly malacca joint, a set of valuable shirtstuds, and a safety chain. still if we cudgel the doctrine of political economy, we may get some small contributions, even from them. cortez found, in the treasury of montezuma, a multitude of little bags, which were, at last, discovered to be filled with dead lice. the emperor, to keep the mexican beggars out of mischief, had levied this species of tax. i am well aware, that the power of levying taxes is not vested in young ladies. they have certain, natural, inherent rights, however, and, among them, the right and the power of persuasion. let them organize, throughout the union, and establish committees of correspondence. let them address a circular to every individual, who wears a beard; and, if their applications succeed, they will enjoy the luxury of supplying a comfortable hair mattrass, to every poor widow, and aged single woman in the united states. no. cxliii. the barber's brush is a luxury of more modern times. stubbe, in his "anatomy of abuses," says--"when they come to washing, oh, how gingerly they behave themselves therein. for then shall your mouths be bossed with the lather or some that rinseth of the balles, (for they have their sweete balles, wherewith all they use to washe) your eyes closed must be anointed therewith also. then snap go the fingers, ful bravely, god wot. thus, this tragedy ended; comes the warme clothes to wipe and dry him with all." stubbe wrote, about . not very long ago, a writer in the gentleman's magazine, observed--"i am old enough to remember when the operation of shaving in this kingdom, was almost exclusively performed by the _barbers_: what i speak of is some threescore years ago, at which time gentlemen shavers were unknown. expedition was then a prime quality in a barber, who smeared the lather over his customer's face with his hand; for the delicate refinement of the brush had not been introduced. the lathering of the beard being finished, the operator threw off the lather, adhering to his hand, by a peculiar jerk of his arm, which caused the joints of his fingers to crack, this being a more expeditious mode of clearing the hand, than using a towel for that purpose; and, the more audible the crack, the higher the shaver stood, in his own opinion, and in that of the fraternity. this i presume is the custom alluded to by stubbe." the romans, when bald, wore wigs. some of the emperors wore miserable periwigs. curly locks, however becoming in a male child, are somewhat ridiculous, trained with manifest care, and descending upon the shoulders of a full grown boy of forty. in addition to the pole, a peruke was frequently employed, as the barber's sign. there was the short bob, and the full bottom; the "hie perrawycke" and the scratch; the top piece, and the periwig with the pole lock; the curled wig with a dildo, and the travelling wig, with curled foretop and bobs; the campain wig, with a dildo on each side, and the toupet, a la mode. it may seem a paradox to some, that the most _barbarous_ nations should suffer the hair and beard to grow longest. the management of the hair has furnished an abundant subject matter for grave attention, in every age and nation. cleansing, combing, crimping, and curling, clipping, and consecrating their locks gave ample occupation to the ladies and gentlemen of greece and rome. at the time of adolescence, and after shipwreck, the hair was cut off and sacrificed to the divinities. it was sometimes cut off, at funerals, and cast upon the pile. curling irons were in use, at rome. girls wore the hair fastened upon the top of the head; matrons falling on the neck. shaving the crown was a part of the punishment of conspirators and thieves. we know nothing, at present, in regard to the hair, which was unknown at rome--our _frizzing_ was their _capillorum tortura_. they had an instrument, called _tressorium_, for plaiting the hair. in the time of edward the confessor, the hair was worn, universally, long, the laws of england not compelling all, but the nobility, as in france, to cut the hair short, in that age. the romans are said, occasionally to have worn wigs of an enormous size, which gave occasion to the term, in martial's epigram, _caput calceatum_. we have no exact record of the size of those roman wigs--but i sincerely wish, that augustus cæsar or-- "mæcenas, whose high lineage springs, from fair etruria's ancient kings," could have seen the rev. dr. lathrop's! in mr. ward's journal of samuel curwen, that venerable and truly respectable, and amiable, old tory is represented, with precisely such a wig, but of much smaller diameter. dr. john lathrop died, jan. , , at the age of . he published a considerable number of sermons on various occasions, no one of which is remarkable for extraordinary talent, or learning. it was, by some intelligent persons, supposed, that the wig was a great help to him. in his latter days, he found himself unable, any longer, to bear up, under such a portentous superstructure, which really appeared to "_overhang_," contrary to the statute, and he laid it aside. his influence certainly appeared to diminish, in some measure, probably, from the increasing infirmities of age; but, doubtless, in some degree, from the deposition of the wig. i honestly confess, that i never felt for dr. lathrop the same awful reverence, after he had laid aside this emblem of wisdom. a "wig full of learning" is an ancient saying, and cowper makes use of it, in one of his lighter poems. i have always looked upon barbers, as an honorable race of men, quite as much so, as brokers; the barbers seldom fail to shave more gently, and commonly dismiss an old customer, without drawing blood, or taking off the skin. we owe them a debt of gratitude withal, on other scores. how very easily they might cut our throats! in this goodly city, at the present time, there are more than one hundred and ten gentlemen, who practice the art of barbery, beside their respective servants and apprentices. when i was a small boy--very--some sixty years ago, there were but twenty-nine, and many of them were most respectable and careful operators--an honor to their profession, and a blessing to the community. there was charles gavett, in devonshire street, the pudding lane of our ancestors. gavett was a brisk, little fellow; his _tonstrina_ was small, and rather dark, but always full. in brattle square, just behind the church, john green kept a shop, for several years. but john became unsteady, and cut general winslow, and some other of his customers, and scalded several others, and lost his business. in fish street, which had then, but recently, ceased to be the court end of the town, there were several clever barbers--there was thomas grubb, and zebulon silvester, and james adams, and abraham florence. i never heard a syllable against them, or their lather. at no. , marlborough street, william whipple kept a first rate establishment, and had a high name, among the dandies, as an accomplished haircutter. jonathan edes kept a small shop, in ann street, and had a fair run of transient custom. he had always a keen edge and a delicate hand. he was greatly urged to take a larger establishment, in a more fashionable part of the town, near cow lane, but mr. edes was not ambitious, and turned a wiry edge to all such suggestions. william mock kept a shop, in newbury street, an excellent shaver, but slow; his shop was not far from the white horse. he was a peripatetic. i suspect, but am not certain, that he shaved dr. lemuel hayward. at the corner of essex street, old auchmuty's lane, george gideon kept a fine stand, clean towels, keen edge, and hot lather; but he had a rough, coarse hand. he had been one of the sons of liberty, and his shop being near the old site of liberty tree, he was rather apt to take liberties with his customers' noses, especially the noses of the disaffected. there were two professed wig-makers, in boston, at that time, who performed the ordinary functions of barbers beside, william haslet, in adams street, and john bosson, in orange street. mr. bosson was very famous, in his line, and in great request, among the ladies. in marshall's lane, edward hill was an admirable shaver; but, in the department of hair cutting, inferior to anthony howe, whose exceedingly neat and comfortable establishment was in south latin school street. an excellent hotel was then kept, by joshua bracket, at the sign of cromwell's head, on the very spot, where palmer keeps his fruit shop, and the very next door below the residence of dr. john warren. bracket patronized howe's shop, and sent him many customers. captain john boyle, whose house and bookstore were at no. marlborough street, patronized anthony howe. samuel jepson kept his _barbery_, as the shop was sometimes called, in temple street, between the two bakeries of william breed and matthew bayley. james tate was established in purchase street. he would have been a good barber, had he not been a poor poet. he was proud of his descent from nahum tate, the psalmodist, the copartner of brady. richard fox kept also in purchase street, and had a large custom. a much frequented barber's shop was kept, by william pierce, near the boston stone. jonathan farnham was an excellent barber, in back street. he unluckily had an ominous squint, which was inconvenient, as it impressed new comers, now and then, with a fear lest he might cut their throats. joseph alexander shaved in orange street, and theodore dehon, on the north side of the old state house. joseph eckley was one of the best shavers and hair cutters in town, some sixty years ago. his shop was in wing's lane. daniel crosby, who was also a wig maker, in newbury street, was clerk of trinity church. augustine raillion, whose name was often written revaillion kept his stand, at no. newbury street. he was much given to dogs, ponies, and other divertisements. state street was famous, for four accomplished barbers, sixty years ago--stephen francis, john gould, john m. lane, and robert smallpiece. the last was the father of robert smallpiece, who flourished here, some thirty years ago or more, and kept his shop, in milk street, opposite the old south church. it is well known, that the late robert treat paine wrote an ode, upon the occasion of the spanish successes, to which he gave the title of "_spain, commerce and freedom, a national ode_." it bore unquestionable marks of genius; but some of the ideas and much of the phraseology were altogether extravagant. it commenced finely-- "sound the trumpet of fame! strike that pæan again! religion a war against tyranny wages; from her seat springs, in armor, regenerate spain, like a giant, refresh'd by the slumber of ages. from the place, where she lay, she leaps in array, like ajax, to die in the face of the day." the ode contained some strange expressions--"redintegrant war"--"though the dismemberd earth effervesce and regender," and so many more, that the ode, though evidently the work of a man of genius, was accounted bombastic. a wag of that day, published a parody, of which this robert smallpiece was the hero. it was called, if i mistake not--"soap, razors, and hot water, a tonsorial ode." the first stanza ran thus-- "strap that razor so keen! strap that razor again! and smallpiece will shave 'em, if he can come at 'em; from his stool, clad in aprons, he springs up amain, like a barber, refresh'd by the smell of pomatum. from the place, where he lay, he leaps in array, to lather and shave, in the face of the day. he has sworn from pollution our faces to clean, our cheeks, necks, and upper lips, whiskers and chin." "paullo majora canamus." no. cxliv. in , mr. thomas percival, an eminent physician, of manchester, in england, published a work, against duelling, and sent a copy to dr. franklin. dr. franklin replied to mr. percival, from passy, july , , and his reply contains the following observations--"formerly, when duels were used to determine lawsuits, from an opinion, that providence would in every instance, favor truth and right, with victory, they were excusable. at present, they decide nothing. a man says something, which another tells him is a lie. they fight; but whichever is killed, the point in dispute remains unsettled. to this purpose, they have a pleasant little story here. a gentleman, in a coffee-house, desired another to sit further from him. 'why so?'--'because, sir, you stink.'--'that is an affront, and you must fight me.'--'i will fight you, if you insist upon it; but i do not see how that will mend the matter. for if you kill me, i shall stink too; and, if i kill you, you will stink, if possible, worse than you do at present.'" this is certainly germain to the matter. so far from perceiving any moral courage, in those, who fight duels, nothing seems more apparent, than the triumph of one fear, over four other fears--the fear of shame, over the fear of bringing misery upon parents, wives and children--the fear of the law--the fear of god--and the fear of death. many a man will _brave_ death, who fears it. death is the king of terrors, and all men stand in awe of him, saving the christian, with his armor of righteousness about him, _cap-a-pie_; and even he, perhaps, is slightly pricked, by that fear, now and then, in articulo, between the joints of the harness. i must honestly confess, that i once knew a man, who had a terrible vixen of a wife, and, when about to die, he replied to his clergyman's inquiry, if he was not afraid to meet the king of terrors, that he was not, for he had lived with the queen, for thirty years. i do not suppose there is a more hypocritical fellow, upon earth, than a duellist. mandeville, in his fable of the bees, in the second dialogue, part ii., puts these words into the mouth of cleomenes, when speaking to horatio, on the subject of his duel: "i saw you, that very morning, and you seemed to be sedate and void of passion: you could have no concern." horatio replies--"it is silly to show any, at such times; but i know best what i felt; the struggle i had within was unspeakable: it is a terrible thing. i would then have given a considerable part of my estate, that the thing which forced me into it, had not happened; and yet, upon less provocation, i would act the same part again, tomorrow." such is human nature, and many, who sit down quietly, to write in opposition to this silly, senseless, selfish practice, would be quite apt enough, upon the emergency, to throw aside the pacific steel, wherewith they indite, and take up the cruel rapier. when i was a young man, a mr. ogilvie gave lectures, in boston, on various subjects. he was the son of mr. ogilvie, to whose praises of the prospects in scotland, dr. johnson replied, by telling him, that "the noblest prospect, which a scotchman ever sees, is the high road, that leads him to england." the son of this gentleman gave his lectures, in the old exchange coffee house, where i heard him, several times. under the influence of opium, which he used very freely, he was, occasionally, quite eloquent. he lectured, one evening, with considerable power, against duelling. on his way to his lodgings, some person repeated to him, several piquant and cutting things, which a gentleman had said of his lecture. ogilvie was exceedingly incensed, and swore he would call him out, the very next day. this law of honor is written nowhere, unless, in letters of blood, in the volume of pride, envy, hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness. "what," says cleomenes, in the work i have just now referred to--"what makes so just and prudent a man, that has the good of society so much at heart, act knowingly against the laws of his country?"--"the strict obedience," says horatio, "he pays to the laws of honor, which are superior to all others."--"if men of honor," says cleomenes, "would act consistently, they ought all to be roman catholics."--"why so?"--"because," he rejoins, "they prefer oral tradition, to all written laws; for nobody can tell, when, in what king's or emperor's reign, in what country, or by what authority, these laws of honor were first enacted: it is very strange they should be of such force." it is certainly very strange, that their authority should have been acknowledged, in some cases, not only by professing christians, but even by the ministers of religion. four individuals, of this holy calling, stand enrolled, as duellists, on the blood-guilty register of england. in , the rev. mr. hill was killed in a duel, by cornet gardner. on the th of june, , the rev. mr. allen killed mr. lloyd dulany, in a duel. in august, , mr. grady was wounded in a duel, by the rev. mr. hodson. the rev. mr. bate fought two duels--was subsequently made baronet--fought a third duel, and was made dean. if such atrocities were not preëminently horrible, how ridiculous they would be! it would not be agreeable to be placed in that category, in which a worthy bishop placed those, who, after dr. johnson's death, began to assail his reputation. "_the old lion is dead_," said the bishop, "_and now every ass will be kicking at his hide_." better and safer, however, to be there, than to bide with those, who receive all the coarse, crude, mental eructations of this truly good and great man, for _dicta perennia_. a volume of outrageously false teachings might readily be selected, from the recorded outpourings of this great literary whale, whenever boswell, by a little tickling, caused his leviathan to spout. too much tea, or none at all, too much dinner, or too little certainly affected his qualifications, as a great moral instructor; and, under the teazle of contradiction, the nap of his great spirit fairly stood on end; and, at such times, he sought victory too often, rather than the truth. it has always seemed to me, that dinner-table philosophy, especially _aprés_, is often of very questionable value. dr. johnson has frequently been quoted, on the subject of duelling. some of his opinions were delivered, on this subject, suddenly, and seem entirely unworthy of his majestic powers. at a dinner party, at gen. oglethorpe's--i refer to boswell's johnson, in ten volumes, lond. , vol. iii. page --boswell brought up the subject of duelling. gen. oglethorpe, _the host_, "fired at this, and said, with a lofty air, 'undoubtedly a man has a right to defend his honor.'" dr. johnson, the _principal guest_, did the civil thing, and took the same side, and is reported, by boswell, to have said substantially--"sir, as men become in a high degree refined, various causes of offence arise; which are considered to be of such importance, that life must be staked to atone for them; though, in reality, they are not so. a body, that has received a very fine polish, may be easily hurt. before men arrive at this artificial refinement, if one tells his neighbor he lies--his neighbor tells him he lies--if one gives his neighbor a blow, his neighbor gives him a blow: but, in a state of highly polished society, an affront is held to be a serious injury. it must therefore be resented, or rather a duel must be fought upon it; as men have agreed to banish, from society, one, who puts up with an affront, without fighting a duel. now, sir, it is never unlawful to fight, in self-defence. he, then, who fights a duel, does not fight from passion against his antagonist, but out of self-defence, to avert the stigma of the world, and to prevent himself from being driven out of society. i could wish there was not that superfluity of refinement; but, while such notions prevail, no doubt a man may lawfully fight a duel." i must have another witness, besides mr. boswell, before i believe, that dr. johnson uttered these words. dr. johnson could never have maintained, that the _lawfulness_ of an act depended upon the existence of certain popular _notions_. nor is it true, nor was it then true, that _men have agreed to banish, from society, one, who puts up with an affront, without fighting a duel_. dr. johnson seems to have made no distinction, between military men and the rest of the world. it is impossible to doubt, that the doctor was graciously disposed to favor gen. oglethorpe's _notions_, and that he would have taken the opposite side, had he been the guest of the archbishop of canterbury. "_it is not unlawful to fight, in self-defence_:" the law, by punishing all killing, in a duel, as murder, in the very first degree, shows clearly enough, that duelling is never looked upon, as fighting, in self-defence. it is remarkable, that mr. boswell, himself a lawyer, should have thought this paragraph worthy of preservation. on page , of the same volume, mr. boswell has the following record--"april , , he again defended duelling, and put his argument upon what i have ever thought the most solid basis; that, if public war be allowed to be consistent with morality, private war must be equally so." and this, in mr. boswell's opinion, was _the most solid basis_! it is difficult to perceive what is stubble, if this is not. whither does this argument carry us all, but back to the state of nature--of uncovenanted man--of man, who has surrendered none of his natural rights, as a consideration for the blessings of government and law? a state of nature and a state of society are very different things. who will doubt, that, if dr. johnson really uttered these things, he would have talked more warily, could he have imagined, that bozzy would have transmitted them to distant ages? it is, nevertheless, perfectly clear, that dr. johnson, upon both these occasions, had talked, only for the pride and pleasure of talking; for mr. boswell records a very different opinion, vol. iv. page . sept. , .--dr. johnson then had thoroughly digested general oglethorpe's dinner; and mr. boswell's record runs thus--"_he fairly owned he could not explain the rationality of duelling_." poor mr. boswell! it is not unreasonable, to suppose, that he had inculcated his notions, upon the subject of duelling, in his own family, and repeated, for the edification of his sons, the valuable sentiments of dr. johnson. mr. boswell died, may , . seven and twenty years after his death, his son, sir alexander boswell, was killed, in a duel, at auchterpool, by mr. james stuart, march , . upon the trial of stuart, for murder, mr. jeffrey, who defended him, quoted the very passage, in which dr. johnson had justified, to the father, that fatal sin and folly, which had brought the son to an untimely grave! no. cxlv. dr. franklin, in his letter to mr. percival, referred to, in my last number, observes, that, "formerly, when duels were used, to determine lawsuits, from an opinion, that providence would, in every instance, favor truth and right with victory, they were excusable." dr. johnson did not think this species of duel so absurd, as it is commonly supposed to be: "it was only allowed," said he, "when the question was in equilibrio, and they had a notion that providence would interfere in favor of him, who was in the right." bos., vol. iv. page . the lawfulness of a thing may excuse it: but there are some laws, so very absurd, that one stares at them, in the statute book, as he looks at flies in amber, and marvels "_how the devil they got there_." there was, i am gravely assured, in the city of new orleans, not very long ago, a practitioner of the healing art, who was called _the tetotum doctor_--he felt no pulse--he examined no tongue--he asked no questions for conscience' sake, nor for any other--his tetotum was marked with various letters, on its sides--he sat down, in front of the patient, and spun his tetotum--if b. came uppermost, he bled immediately--if p., he gave a purge--if e., an emetic--if c., a clyster, and so on. if there be less wisdom, in this new mode of practice, than in the old wager of battel, i perceive it not. both drs. franklin and johnson refer to it, as an _ancient_ practice. it was supposed, doubtless, to have become obsolete, and a dead letter, extinguished by the mere progress of civilization. much surprise, therefore, was excited, when, at a period, as late as , an attempt was made to revive it, in the case of ashford _vs._ thornton, tried before the king's bench, in april of that year. this was a case of appeal of murder, under the law of england. thornton had violated, and murdered the sister of ashford; and, as a last resort, claimed his right to _wager of battel_. the court, after full consideration, felt themselves obliged to admit the claim, under the unrepealed statute of , william ii., passed a. d. . ashford, the appellant, and brother of the unfortunate victim, declined to accept the challenge, and the murderer was accordingly discharged. this occurred, in the th year of george iii., and a statute was passed, in , putting an end to this terrible absurdity. had the appellant, the brother, accepted this legalized challenge, what a barbarous exhibition would have been presented to the world, at this late day, through the inadvertence of parliament, in omitting to repeal this preposterous law! in a former number, i quoted a sentiment, attributed, by boswell, to dr. johnson, and which, i suppose, was no deliberate conviction of his, but uttered, in the course of his dinner-table talk, for the gratification of gen. oglethorpe, "_men have agreed to banish from society, a man, who puts up with an affront without fighting a duel_." this is not asserted, as an independent averment, but assumed or taken for granted, as the basis of the argument, such as it was. is this a fact? cannot cases innumerable be stated, to prove, that it is not? the words, ascribed to dr. johnson, are not confined to any class or profession, but are of universal application. have men agreed to banish from society every man, who refuses to fight a duel, when summoned to that refreshing amusement? let us examine a few cases. general jackson did not lose caste, because he omitted to challenge randolph, for pulling his nose. josiah quincy was not banished from society, for refusing the challenge of a southern hotspur. i believe, that judge thacher, of maine, would have been much less respected, had he gone out to be shot, when invited, than he ever has been, for the very sensible answer to his antagonist, that he would talk to mrs. thacher about it, and be guided by her opinion. nobody ever supposed, that judge breckenridge suffered, in character or standing, because he told his challenger, that he _wouldn't come_; but, that he might sketch his, the judge's, figure, on a board, and fire at that, till he was weary, at any distance he pleased; and if he hit it, upon a certificate of the fact, the judge would agree to it. had hamilton refused the challenge of burr, his _deliberate murderer_, his fame would have remained untarnished--his countrymen would never have forgotten the th of october, --the charge of that advanced corps--the fall of yorktown! on his death-bed, hamilton expressed his abhorrence of the practice; and solemnly declared, should he survive, never to be engaged in another duel. "_pendleton knows_," said he, in a dying hour, referring to burr, and addressing dr. hossack, "_that i did not intend to fire at him_." how different from the blood-thirsty purposes of his assassin! in vol. x. of jeremy bentham's works, pages - , the reader will find a letter from dumont to bentham, in which the frenchman says, referring to a conversation with burr, in , four years after the duel--"_his duel with hamilton was a savage affair_:" and bentham adds--"_he gave me an account of his duel with hamilton; he was sure of being able to kill him, so i thought it little better than murder_." in england, _politics_ seem to have given occasion to very many affairs of this nature--the duels of the duke of hamilton and lord mohun, in , fatal to both--mr. martin and mr. wilkes, in --the lords townshend and bellamont, in --c. j. fox and mr. adam, in --capt. fullerton and lord shelburne, in --lord macartney and major general stuart, in --the duke of york and colonel lenox, in --mr. curran and major hobart, in --earl of lonsdale and capt. cuthbert, in --lord valentia and mr. gawler, in --william pitt and george tierney, in --sir francis burdett and mr. paull, in --lord castlereagh and mr. canning, in --mr. o'connell and mr. d'esterre, in --mr. grattan and the earl of clare, in --sir a. boswell and james stuart, in --mr. long wellesly and mr. crespigny, in --the duke of wellington and the earl of winchelsea, in --lord alvanley and morgan o'connell, in --sir colquhon grant and lord seymour, in --mr. roebuck and mr. black, in --mr. ruthven and mr. scott, in --the earl of cardigan and mr. tuckett, in . sir j. barrington says, that, during his grand climacteric, two hundred and twenty-seven duels were fought. in different ages and nations, various preventives have been employed. killing in a duel, here and in england, is murder, in the surviving principal, and seconds. to add effect to the law, it was proclaimed, by , charles ii., , to be _an unpardonable offence_. disqualification from holding office, and dismissal from the army and navy have, at different times, been held up, in terrorem. in england, eighteen survivors have suffered the penalty, provided against duelling. major campbell was hung, in , for having killed capt. boyd, in a duel. in , lieutenant blundell was killed in a duel at carisbroke castle: the survivor and both seconds were tried, and convicted of murder; and, though subsequently pardoned, dismissed the service. "duels," says sir george mackenzie, "are but illustrious murders." mr. addison recommends the pillory. the councils of valentia and trent excommunicated such combatants; but a man, who has made up his mind to fight a duel, cares little for the church. during the first eighteen years of the reign of henry iv., four thousand persons were slain, in duels, in france. he published his famous edict of blois, against duels, in : and, in , added, to the existing penalties, punishment by death, confiscations, fines, and imprisonment, respectively, for all, concerned in fighting or abetting, even as spectators, or as casual passers, who did not interpose. all this, however, was the work of sully: for this consistent king, at this very time, gave crequi leave to fight the duke of savoy, and even told him, that he would be his second, were he not a king. duels were so frequent, in the reign of his successor, louis xiii., that lord herbert, who was then ambassador, at the court of france, used to say, there was not a frenchman, worth looking at, who had not killed his man. "_who fought yesterday?_" was the mode of inquiring after the news of the morning. the most famous duellist of the age was montmorenci, count de bouttville. he and the marquis de beuoron, setting their faces against all authority, and, persisting in this amusement, it was found necessary to take their stubborn heads off. they were tried, convicted, and beheaded. a check was, at length, put to these excesses, by louis xiv. a particular account of all this will be found in larrey, _histoire de france, sons le régne de louis xiv._, tom. ii. p. . matters, during the minority of louis xiv., had come to a terrible pass. the dukes de beaufort and nemours had fought a duel, with four seconds each, and converted it into a _welch main_, as the cock-fighters term a _meleé_. they fought, five to five, with swords and pistols. beaufort killed nemours--the marquis de villars killed d'henricourt, and d'uzerches killed de ris. in , another affair took place, four to four. the king finally published his famous edict of . the marshals of france and the nobility entered into a solemn league and covenant, never to fight a duel, on any pretence whatever; and louis le grand adhered to his oath, and resolutely refused pardon to every offender. this greatly checked the evil, for a time. kings will die, and their worthy purposes are not always inherited by their successors; soon after the death of the great monarch, the practice of duelling revived in france. the only radical and permanent preventive, of this equally barbarous, and foolish custom, lies, in the moral and religious education of the people. the infrequency of the practice, in new england, arises entirely from the fact, that the moral and religious training of the community has taught them to look upon a duellist, as an exceedingly unfashionable personage. new englanders are a calculating race. they _calculate_, that it is infinitely better to mind their business, and die quietly in their beds, than to go out and be shot, by the very fellow, who has not the decency to say he is sorry, for treading on their toes, when he was drunk--and they are a fearful race, for they fear the reprehension of the wise and good, and the commands of god, more than they fear the decisions of a lawless tribunal, where fools sit in judgment, and whose absurd decrees are written on the sand. no. cxlvi. some nine and thirty years ago, i was in the habit, occasionally, when i had no call, in my line, of strolling over to the navy yard, at charlestown, and spending an evening, in the cabin of a long, dismantled, old hulk, that was lying there. once in a while, we had a very pleasant dinner party, on board that old craft. that cabin was the head-quarters of my host. it was the cabin of that ill-fated frigate, the chesapeake. my friend had been one of her deeply mortified officers, when she was surrendered, by james barron, to the british frigate leopard, without firing a gun, june , . a sore subject this, for my brave, old friend. i well remember to have dined, in that cabin, one fourth of july, with some very pleasant associates--there were ten of us--we were very noisy then--all, but myself, are still enough now--they are all in their graves. i recollect, that, towards the close of the entertainment, some allusion to the old frigate, in which we were assembled, revived the recollection of the day, when those stars and stripes came down. we sat in silence, listening to the narrative of our host, whose feelings were feverishly and painfully excited--"it would have been a thousand times better," said he, "if the old hulk had gone to bottom and every man on board. the country might then, possibly, have been spared the war; for our honor would have been saved, and there would have been less to fight for. unprepared as we were, for such an attack, at a time of profound peace, we ought to have gone down, like little mudge, who, while his frigate was sinking, thanked god the blanche was not destined to wear french colors!" when he paused, and, with the back of his hand, brushed away the tears from his eyes, we were all of his mind, and wished he had been in command, that day, instead of james barron; for this old friend of mine was a very, very clever fellow--a warmer heart never beat in a braver bosom. there was one thing, however, that i could never break him of, and yet i had some little influence with him, in those days--i mean the _habit_ of fighting duels. he would not harm a fly, but he would shoot a man, in an honorable way, at the shortest notice, and the shortest distance. he fought a duel, on one occasion, when, being challenged, and having the choice of distance, he insisted on three paces, saying he was so near-sighted, he could not hit a barn door, at ten. he was apt to be, not affectedly, but naturally, jocular, on such occasions. another old friend of mine, in by-gone days, the elder son of the late governor brooks, was second, in one of these duels, to the friend, of whom i am speaking. major brooks had, occasionally, indulged himself, in the publication of poetical effusions. when the parties and their seconds came upon the ground, he found, that he had brought no leather, to envelop the ball, as usual, in loading; and, drawing a newspaper from his pocket, tore off the corner, on which some verses were printed: at this moment, his principal drawing near, said, in an under tone, "_i hope that isn't one of your fugitive pieces, alek_." though our lines were, of late years, cast far apart, i always rejoiced in his good fortune. after having occupied a very elevated position, for some time, in the naval department, he fell--poor fellow--not in a duel--but in a moment, doubtless, of temporary, mental derangement, by his own hand. the news of my old friend's death reached me, just before dinner--i postponed it till the next day--went home--sat alone--and had that old dinner, in the cabin of the chesapeake, warmed over, upon the coals of the imagination, and seated around me every guest, who was there that day, just as fresh, as if he had never been buried. james barron was an unlucky dog, to say the least of it. striking the stars and stripes, without firing a gun, was enough for one life. for this he was tried, found guilty, and suspended from duty, for five years, from feb. , , and deprived of his pay. he went abroad; and, during his absence, war was declared, which continued about two years, after the termination of his suspension. he returned, at last, and sought employment; decatur officially opposed his claims; and thereupon he challenged, and killed decatur, the pride of the american navy; and, after this, he received employment from the government. the services of james barron are not likely to be undervalued. decatur's offence consisted, in his declaration of opinion, that barron did not return to the service of his country, as in duty bound. the duel took place march , . after this, barron demanded a court of inquiry, to settle this point. the court consisted of commodores stewart and morris and captain evans, and convened may , , and the conclusion of the sentence is this--"it is therefore the opinion of the court, that his (barron's) absence from the united states, without the permission of the government, was contrary to his duty, as an officer, in the navy of the united states." here then was another silly and senseless duel. mr. allen, in his biographical dictionary remarks--"the correspondence issued in a challenge from barron, though he considered duelling '_a barbarous practice, which ought to be exploded from civilized society_.' and the challenge was accepted by decatur, though he '_had long since discovered, that fighting duels is not even an unerring criterion of personal courage_.'" they fired at the same instant; barron fell immediately, wounded in the hip, where decatur had mercifully declared his intention to wound him; decatur stood erect, for a moment--put his hand to his right side--and fell, mortally wounded. he was raised, and supported, a few steps, and sunk down, exhausted, near barron. captain mackenzie, in his life of decatur, page , gives his opinion, that this duel could have been gracefully prevented, on the ground; and such will be the judgment, doubtless, of posterity. capt. jesse d. elliot was the second of barron--com. bainbridge of decatur. after they had taken their stands, barron said to decatur, that he hoped, "_on meeting, in another world, they would be better friends, than they had been in this_." to this decatur replied, "_i have never been your enemy, sir_." "why," says captain mackenzie, "could not this aspiration for peace, between them, in the next world, on one part, and this comprehensive disclaimer of all enmity, on the other, have been seized by the friends, for the purposes of reconciliation?" a pertinent question truly--but of very ready solution. these seconds, like most others, acted, like military undertakers; their office consists, as they seem to suppose, in seeing the bodies duly cared for; and all consideration for the chief mourners, and such the very principals often are, is out of the question. with all his excellent qualities, commodore bainbridge, as every one, who knew him well, will readily admit, was not possessed of that happy mixture of qualities, to avail of this pacific _prestige_. it was an overture--such barron afterwards avowed it to have been. on the th of october, , decatur had been the second of com. perry, in his duel with captain heath, which was terminated, after the first fire, by decatur's declaration, that com. perry had avowed his purpose, not to fire at capt heath. had perry lived, and been at hand, it is highly probable, that decatur would not have fallen, for perry would, doubtless, have been his second, and readily availed of the expressions of the parties, on the ground. had charles morris, whose gallantry and discretion have mingled into a proverb--had he been the second of his old commander, by whose side, he stood, on the philadelphia's deck, in that night of peril, february, , who can doubt, the pacific issue of this most miserable adventure! seconds, too frequently, are themselves the instigators and supporters of these combats. true or false, the tale is a fair one, of two friends, who had disputed over their cups; and, by the exciting expressions of some common acquaintances, were urged into a duel. they met early the next morning--the influence of the liquor had departed--the seconds loaded the pistols, and placed their principals--but, before the word was given, one of them, rubbing his eyes, and looking about him, exclaims--"there is some mistake, there can be no enmity between us two, my old friend; these fellows, who have brought us here, upon this foolish errand, are our enemies, let us fire at them." the proposition was highly relished, by the other party, and the seconds took to their heels. well: we left decatur and barron, lying side by side, and weltering in their blood. the strife was past, and they came to a sort of friendly understanding. barron, supposing his wound to be fatal, said all things had been conducted honorably, and that he forgave decatur, from the bottom of his heart. mackenzie, in a note, on page , refers to a conversation between them, as they lay upon the ground, until the means of transportation arrived. he does not give the details, but says they would be "creditable to the parties, and soothing to the feelings of the humane." i understood, at the time, from a naval officer of high rank, and have heard it often, repeated, that decatur said, "barron, why didn't you come home and fight your country's battles?" that barron replied, "i was too poor to pay my debts, and couldn't get away,"--and that decatur rejoined, "if i had known that, we should not be lying here." strip this matter of its honorable epidermis, and there is something quite ridiculous in the idea of doing such an unpleasant thing, and all for nothing! these changes, from hostility to amity, are often extremely sudden. i have read, that rapin, the historian, when young, fought a duel, late in the evening, with small swords. his sword broke near the hilt--he did not perceive it, and continued to fence with the hilt alone. his antagonist paused and gave him notice; and, like the two girls, in the antijacobin, they flew into each other's arms, and "swore perpetual amity." no. cxlvii. m. de vassor wrote with a faulty pen, when he asserted, in his history, that the only good thing louis xiv. did, in his long reign of fifty-six years, consisted in his vigorous attempts, to suppress the practice of duelling. cardinal richelieu admits, however, in his _political testament_, that his own previous efforts had been ineffectual, although he caused messieurs de chappelle and bouteville to be executed, for the crime, in disregard of the earnest importunities of their numerous and powerful friends. no public man ever did more, for the suppression of the practice, than lord bacon, while he was attorney general. his celebrated charge, upon an information in the star chamber, against priest & wright, vol. iv. page , lond. , was ordered to be printed, by the lords of council; and was vastly learned and powerful, in its way. it is rather amusing, upon looking at the decree, which followed, dated jan. , james i., to see how such matters were then managed; the information, against priest, was, "_for writing and sending a letter of challenge together with a stick, which should be the length of the weapon_." such measures are surely well enough, as far as they go; but can be of no lasting influence, unless certain processes are simultaneously carried on, to meliorate the moral tone, in society. without the continual employment of moral and religious alteratives--laws, homilies, charges, decrees, ridicule, menances of disinherison here, and damnation hereafter will be of very little use. they are outward applications--temporary repellants, which serve no other purpose, than to drive back the distemper, for a brief space, but reach not the seat of the disorder. as was stated, in a former number, nothing will put an end to this practice, but indoctrination--the mild, antiphlogistic system of the gospel. wherever its gentle spirit prevails, combined with intellectual and moral culture, there will be no duels. temperance forms, necessarily, an important part of that antiphlogistic system--for a careful examination will show, that, in a very great number of cases, duels have originated over the table--we import them, corked up in bottles, which turn out, now and then, to be vials of wrath. one of the most ferocious duels, upon record, is that, between lord bruce and sir edward sackville, of which the survivor, sir edward, wrote an account from louvain, sept. , . these fellows appear to have been royal tigers, untameable even by herr driesbach. this brutal and bloody fight took place, at bergen op zoom, near antwerp. the _cause_ of this terrible duel has never been fully ascertained, but the _manner and instrument_, by which these blood-thirsty gentlemen were put in the ablative, are indicated in the letter--they fought with _rapiers and in their shirts_. i have neither room nor taste for the details: by the curious in such matters, some account may be gathered, in collins's peerage, which refers to the correspondence, preserved in manuscript, in queen's college library, oxford. these, with sir edward's letter, may be found in wood's athenæ oxonienses also, vol. iii. page , lond. . wood says--"_he (sackville) entered into a fatal quarrel, upon a subject very unwarrantable, with a young scottish nobleman, the lord bruce_." sackville was afterward earl of dorset. a more accessible authority, for the reader, probably, is the guardian, vol. iii. no. , though the former is more full, and taken from the original manuscript, in the ashmole museum, with the ancient spelling. the duel, with swords, between the lords mohun and hamilton, in hyde park, nov. , , was nearly as brutal. both were killed. richard brinsley sheridan's duel with matthews--the second i mean, for they had two duels--was a very doglike thing indeed. they fought, first, with pistols, and, not killing each other, as speedily as they wished, resorted to their swords. they cut and pricked each other, at a terrible rate; and, losing all patience and temper, closed, rough and tumble, went heels over head, rolled, and puffed, and tussled, in the dust and dirt, till, at last, they were literally pulled apart, like two dogs, by their tails, and a part of matthews' sword was found sticking in sheridan's ear. gentlemanly satisfaction this! it has sometimes occurred, that advantages, unduly taken, on the ground, such as firing out of order, for example, have converted the killing into murder, in the eyes even of the seconds, which it ever is, at all such meetings, in the eye of the law. such was the case in the duels, between m'keon and reynolds, jan. , , and between campbell and boyd, june , . doubtless, there are men of wonderfully well balanced minds, who go about their business, with great apparent composure, after they have killed their antagonists in duels. now and then, there is one, who takes things more gravely--_nervously_, perhaps. poor fellow, he feels rather unpleasantly, when he chances to go by the husbandless mansion--or passes that woman, whom he has made a widow--or sees, hand in hand, those little children, in their sober garments, whom the accursed cunning of his red, right hand has rendered orphans! such feeble spirits there are--the heart of a duellist should be made of sterner stuff. june , , mr. colclough was killed in a duel, by mr. alcock, who immediately lost his reason, and was carried from the ground to the madhouse. some years ago, i visited the lunatic hospital in philadelphia; and there saw, among its inmates, a well known gentleman, who had killed _his friend_, in a duel. he had referred, while conversing, to his hair, which had grown very gray, since i last saw him. a bystander said, in a mild way--gray hairs are honorable--"_aye_," he replied, "_honor made my hairs gray_." i know, very well, that the common, lawless duel is supposed, by many persons, to have sprung from the old _wager of battel_, defined, by fleta, in his law latin, _singularis pugnus inter duos ad probandum litem, et qui vicit probasse intelligitur_. the first time we hear of the _wager of battel_, as a written judicial rule, is a. d. , in the reign of gundibald, king of burgundy; and it was in use, among the germans, danes, and franks. the practice or usage was common, however, to all the celtic nations. it came into england, with william the conqueror. it happens, however, that men have ever been disposed to settle their disputes, by fighting about them, since the world began. if the classical reader will open his velleius paterculus, lib. ii., and read the first sentence of section , he will see, that, when quintilius varus endeavored to persuade the rude germans, to adopt the laws and usages of rome, in the adjustment of their disputes, between man and man, they laughed at his simplicity, and told him they had a summary mode of settling these matters, among themselves, by the arm of flesh. this occurred, shortly after the birth of christ, or about years _before_ the time of gundibald. instead of attempting to trace the origin of modern duelling to the legalized _wager of battel_, we may as well look for its moving cause, in the heart of man. duels are of very ancient origin. abel was a noncombatant. had it been otherwise, the affair, between him and cain, would have been the first affair of honor; and his death would not have been _murder_, but _killing in a duel_! one thousand and fifty-eight years, according to the chronology of calmet, before the birth of christ, the very first duel was fought, near a place called _shochoh_, which certainly sounds as roughly, on the ear, as _hoboken_. there seems not to have been, upon that occasion, any of the ceremony, practised, now-a-days--there were no regular seconds--no surgeons--no marking off the ground--and each party had the right, to use whatever weapons he pleased. two armies were drawn up, in the face of each other. a man, of unusually large proportions, stepped between them, and proposed an adjustment of their national differences, by single combat, and challenged any man of his opponents, to fight a duel with him. he was certainly a fine looking fellow, and armed to the teeth. he came, without any second or friend, to adjust the preliminaries; and no one was with him, but an armor bearer, who carried his shield. the audacity of this unexpected challenge, and the tremendous limbs of the challenger, for a time, produced a sort of panic, in the opposite army--no man seemed inclined to break a spear with the tall champion. at last, after he had strutted up and down, for some time, there came along a smart little fellow, a sort of cowboy or sheep-herd, who was sent to the army by his father, with some provisions, for his three brothers, who had enlisted, and a few fine cheeses, for the colonel of their regiment, the father thinking, very naturally, doubtless, that a present of this kind might pave the way for their promotion. the old gentleman's name was jesse--an ancestor, doubtless, of john heneage jesse, whose memoirs of george selwyn we have all read, with so much pleasure. the young fellow arrived with his cheeses, at the very time, when this huge braggart was going about, strutting and defying. hearing, that the king had offered his daughter in marriage, with a handsome dowry, to any one, who would kill this great bugbear out of the way, this stripling offered to do it. when he was brought into the royal presence, the king, struck by his youth and slender figure, told him, without ceremony, that the proposition was perfect nonsense, and that he would certainly get his brains knocked out, by such a terrible fellow. but the young man seemed nothing daunted, and respectfully informed his majesty, that, upon one occasion, he had had an affair with a lion, and, upon another, with a bear, and that he had taken the lion by the beard, and slain him. the king finally consented, and proceeded to put armor on the boy, who told his majesty, that he was very much obliged to him, but had much rather go without it. the challenge was duly accepted. but, when they came together, on the ground, all the modern notions of etiquette appear to have been set entirely at defiance. contrary to all the rules of propriety, the principals commenced an angry conversation. when the challenger first saw the little fellow, coming towards him, with a stick and a sling, he really supposed they were hoaxing him. he felt somewhat, perhaps, like mr. crofts, when he was challenged, in , by humphrey judson, the dwarf; who, nevertheless, killed him, at the first fire. when the youngster marched up to him, the challenger was very indignant, and asked if he took him for a dog, that he came out to him, with a stick; and, in a very ungentlemanly way, hinted something about making mince meat of his little antagonist, for the crows. the little fellow was not to be outdone, in this preparatory skirmish of words; for he threatened to take off the giant's head in a jiffy, and told him the ravens should have an alderman's meal, upon his carcass. such bandying of rough words is entirely out of order, on such occasions. at it they went; and, at the very first fire, down came the bully upon his face, struck, upon the frontal sinus, with a smooth stone from a sling. the youngster, i am sorry to say, contrary to all the rules of duelling, ran up to him, after he was down, and chopped off his head, with his own sword; for, as i have already stated, there were no seconds, and there was no surgeon at hand, to attend to the mutilated gentleman, after he was satisfied. the survivor, who seems to have been the founder of his own fortune--_novus homo_--became eminently distinguished for his fine poetical talents, and composed a volume of lyrics, which have passed through innumerable editions. the one hundred and forty-fourth of the series is supposed, by the critics, to have been commemorative of this very affair of honor--_blessed be the lord, my strength, who teacheth my hands to war, and my fingers to fight_. no. cxlviii. the duel, between david and goliath, bears a striking resemblance to that, between titus manlius and the gaul, so finely described, by livy, lib. vii. cap. . in both cases, the circumstances, at the commencement, were precisely alike. the armies of the hernici and of the romans were drawn up, on the opposite banks of the anio--those of the israelites and of the philistines, on two mountains, on the opposite sides of the valley of elah. "tum eximia corporis magnitudine in vacuum pontem gallus processit, et quantum maxima voce potuit, _quem nunc_ inquit _roma virum fortissimum habet, procedat, agedum, ad pugnam, ut noster duorum eventus ostendat, utra gens bello sit melior_." then, a gaul of enormous size, came down upon the unoccupied bridge, and cried out, as loud as he could, let the bravest of the romans come forth--let him come on--and let the issue of our single combat decide, which nation is superior in war.--and there went out a champion out of the camp of the philistines, named goliath of gath, whose height was six cubits and a span. * * * * and he stood, and cried unto the armies of israel, and said unto them, why are ye come out to set your battle in array? am not i a philistine, and ye servants of saul? choose you a man for you, and let him come down to me. if he be able to fight with me and to kill me, then will we be your servants; but if i prevail against him and kill him, then shall ye be our servants, and serve us. the next point, is the effect upon the two armies: "diu inter primores juvenum romanorum silentium fuit, quum et abnuere certamen vererentur, et præcipuam sortem periculi petere nollent." there was a long silence, upon this, among the chiefs of the young romans; for, while they were afraid to refuse the challenge, they were reluctant to encounter this peculiar kind of peril.--when saul and all israel heard those words of the philistine, they were dismayed and greatly afraid. after titus manlius had accepted the challenge, he seems desirous of giving his commander a proof of his confidence in himself, and the reasons, or grounds, of that confidence: "si tu permittis, volo ego illi belluæ ostendere, quando adeo ferox præsultat hostium signis, me ex ea familia ortum, quæ gallorum agmen ex rupe tarpeia dejecit." if you will permit me, i will show this brute, after he has vaunted a little longer, in this braggart style, before the banners of the enemy, that i am sprung from the family, that hurled the whole host of gauls from the tarpeian rock.--and david said to saul, let no man's heart fail because of him, thy servant will go and fight with this philistine. * * * * thy servant kept his father's sheep, and there came a lion and a bear, and took a lamb out of the flock. and i went out after him, and delivered it out of his mouth; and when he arose against me, i caught him, by his beard, and smote him and slew him. thy servant slew both the lion and the bear, and this uncircumcised philistine shall be as one of them. the difference in their port and appearance may also be considered. "nequaquam visu ac specie æstimantibus pares. corpus alteri magnitudine eximium, versicolori veste, pictisque et auro cælatis refulgens armis; media in altero militaris statura, modicaque in armis habilibus magis quam decoris species." in size and appearance, there was no resemblance. the frame of the gaul was enormous. he wore a vest whose color was changeable, and his refulgent arms were highly ornamented and studded with gold. the roman was of middle military stature, and his simple weapons were calculated for service and not for show. of goliath we read--he had a helmet of brass upon his head, and he was armed with a coat of mail. * * * and he had greaves of brass upon his legs, and a target of brass between his shoulders, and the staff of his spear was like a weaver's beam; and david took his staff in his hand, and chose him five smooth stones out of the brook, and put them in a shepherd's bag which he had, even in a scrip, and his sling was in his hand. the general's consent is given to titus manlius, in these words--"perge et nomen romanum invictum, juvantibus diis, præsta." go, and have a care, the gods assisting thee, that the roman name remains unconquered. and saul said unto david, go, and the lord be with thee. the philistine and the gaul were both speedily killed, and here the parallel ends; for david hewed off the philistine's head. the roman was more generous than the child of israel--"jacentis inde corpus, ab omni alia vexatione intactum, uno torque spoliavit; quem, respersum cruore, collo circumdedit suo." he despoiled the body of his fallen foe, in no otherwise insulted, of a chain, which, bloody, as it was, he placed around his own neck. i cannot turn from this gallant story, without remarking, that this titus manlius must have been a terrible wag: livy says, that his young companions having prepared him for the duel--"armatum adornatumque adversus gallum stolide lætum, et (quoniam id quoque memoria dignum antiquis visum est) linguam, etiam ab irrisu exscrentem, producunt"--they brought him forward, armed and prepared for his conflict with the gaul, childishly delighted, and (since the ancients have thought it worth repeating) waggishly thrusting his tongue out of his mouth, in derision of his antagonist. doubtless, the challenge of charles v. by francis i., in which affair, charles, in the opinion of some folks, showed a little, if the cant phrase be allowable, of the white feather, gave an impetus to the practice of duelling. doubtless, the _wager of battel_ supplied something of the form and ceremony, the use of seconds, and measuring the lists, the signal of onset, &c. of modern duels: but the principle was in the bosom of adam, and the practice is of the highest antiquity. woman, in some way or other, has been, very often, at the bottom of these duels. helen, as the chief occasion of the trojan war, was, of course, the cause of hector's duel with ajax, which duel, as the reader will see, by turning to his iliad, lib. viii. v. , was stopped, by the police, at the very moment, when both gentlemen, having thrown their lances aside, were drawing their long knives. lavinia set turnus and Æneas by the cars. turnus challenged him twice. upon the first occasion, Æneas was unwell; but, upon the second, they had a meeting, and he killed his man. david would not have accepted goliath's challenge, had not his heart been set upon saul's daughter, _and the shekels_. i find nothing of this, in the commentators; but the reader may find it, in the book of nature, _passim_. for one so young, david practised, with all the wariness of an old bachelor. when he first arrived in camp, some one asked him, if he had seen goliath, and added, _and it shall be that the man who killeth him the king will enrich him with great riches, and will give him his daughter_. david had no idea of going upon a fool's errand; and, to make matters sure, he turned to those about him, and inquired, clearly for confirmation, _what shall be done to the man that killeth this philistine?_ and they repeated what he had heard before. david was a discreet youth, for one of his time, the titman, as he was, of jesse's eight children--and, to avoid all chance of mistake, he walks off to another person, near at hand, and repeats his inquiry, and receives a similar answer. sam. i. xvii. . a wide difference there is, between the motives of titus manlius, in accepting the challenge of the gaul, and those of david, in accepting that of the philistine--the love of country and of glory in the first--in the last, the desire of possessing saul's daughter _and the shekels_. duels have been occasioned, by other helens than her of troy. a pleasant tale is told, by valvasor, in his work, _la gloire de duche de carniole_, liv. ii. p. --of andrew eberhard rauber, a german knight, and lord of the fortress of petronel. maximilian ii., emperor of germany, had a natural daughter, helen scharseginn, of exquisite beauty, who had a brace of gallant admirers, of whom rauber was one--the other was a spanish gentleman, of high rank. both were at the court of maximilian, and in such high favor, that the emperor was extremely unwilling to disoblige either. upon the lifting of a finger, these gallants were ready to fight a score of duels, for the lady's favor, in the most approved fashion of the day. to this the emperor was decidedly opposed; and, had they resorted to such extremities, neither would have taken anything, by his motion. the emperor secretly preferred the german alliance, but was unwilling to offend the spaniard. he was young and of larger proportions, than his german rival; but rauber's prodigious strength had become a proverb, through the land. he had the power of breaking horse-shoes with his thumbs and fingers; and, upon one occasion, at gratz, in the presence of the archduke charles, according to valvasor's account, he seized an insolent jew, by his long beard, and actually pulled his jaw off. he was a terrible antagonist, of course. maximilian, heartily wearied with their incessant strife and importunity, finally consented, that the question should be settled, by a duel, in presence of the whole court. the hour was appointed, and the parties duly notified. the terms of the conflict were to be announced, by the emperor. the day arrived. the lords and ladies of the court were assembled, to witness the combat; and the rivals presented themselves, with their weapons, prepared to struggle manfully, for life and love. the emperor commanded the combatants to lay their rapiers aside, and each was presented with a large bag or sack; and they were told, that whichever should succeed, in putting the other into the sack, should be entitled to the hand of the fair helen scharseginn. though, doubtless, greatly surprised, by this extraordinary announcement, there appeared to be no alternative, and at it they went. after a protracted struggle, amid shouts of laughter from the spectators, rauber, lord of the fortress of petronel, obtained the victory, bagged his bird, and encased the haughty spaniard in the sack, who, shortly after, departed from the court of maximilian. would to god, that all duels were as harmless, in their consequences. it is not precisely so. when the gentleman, that does the murder, and the two or more gentlemen, who aid and abet, have finished their handiwork, the end is not yet--mother, wife, sisters, brothers, children are involuntary parties--the iron, or the lead, which pierced that selfish heart, must enter their very souls. where these encounters have proved fatal, the survivors, as i have stated, have, occasionally, gone mad. it is not very common, to be sure, for duels to produce such melancholy consequences, as those, which occurred, after that, between cameron and mclean, in . mclean was killed. upon receiving the intelligence, his aged mother lost her reason, and closed her days in a mad-house. the lady, to whom he was betrothed, expired in convulsions, upon the third day, after the event--_n'importe!_ no. cxlix. it is quite unpleasant, after having diligently read a volume of memoirs, or voyages, or travels, and carefully transferred a goodly number of interesting items to one's common-place book--to discover, that the work, _ab ovo usque ad mala_, is an ingenious tissue of deliberate lies. it is no slight aggravation of this species of affliction, to reflect, that one has highly commended the work, to some of his acquaintances, who are no way remarkable, for their bowels of compassion, and whose intelligible smile he is certain to encounter, when they first meet again, after the _éclaircissement_. there is very little of the _hæc olim meminisse juvabit_, in store, for those, who have been thus misled. if there had been, absolutely, no foundation for the story, in the credulity of certain members of the royal society, butler would not, probably, have produced his pleasant account of "_the elephant in the moon_." there were some very grave gentlemen, of lawful age, who were inclined to receive, for sober truth, that incomparable hoax, of which sir john herschell was represented, as the hero. damberger's travels, in africa, and his personal adventures there gave me great pleasure, when i was a boy; and i remember to have felt excessively indignant, when i discovered, that the work was written, in a garret, in the city of amsterdam, by a fellow who had never quitted europe. i never derived much pleasure or instruction, from wraxall's memoirs of the kings of france of the race of valois, nor from his tour through the southern provinces, published in . but his historical memoirs of his own time, prepared, somewhat after the manner of de thou, and bishop burnet, and extending from to , i well remember to have read, with very considerable pleasure, in ; and was pained to find them cut up, however unmercifully, with so much irresistible justice, in the edinburgh and quarterly reviews, and the british critic. mr. wraxall made matters immeasurably worse, by his defence. there could be no adequate defence, for a man, who had asserted, that lord dorset told him an anecdote, touching an event, _which event did not happen, till lord dorset was dead_. a single instance of this kind, in a writer of common accuracy, might be carried, in charity, to the debit of chance, or forgetfulness; but the catalogue, presented by the reviewers, is truly overpowering. to close the account, sir n. w. wraxall was, in may, , convicted of a libel, in these very memoirs, upon count woronzow, the russian minister; and mr. wraxall was imprisoned in newgate, for that offence. after this disqualification of my witness, i am, nevertheless, about to vouch in mr. wraxall, by reciting one of his stories, in illustration of a principle. i quote from memory--i have not the work--the reviewers prevented me from buying it. june , , the battle of dettingen was fought, and won, by george ii. in person, and the earl of stair, against the marechal de noailles and the duke de grammont. mr. wraxall relates--_me memoria mea non fallente_--the following incident. after the battle, the earl gave a dinner, at his quarters; and, among the guests, were several of the french prisoners of war. of course, the earl of stair presided, at one end of the table--at the other sat a gentleman, of very common-place appearance, of small stature, thin and pale, evidently an invalid, and who, unless addressed, scarcely opened his lips, during the entertainment. this unobtrusive, and rather unprepossessing, young man was the lord mark kerr, the nephew, and the aid-de-camp of the earl. after the removal of the cloth, the gentlemen discussed the subject of the battle, and the manoeuvres, by which the victory had been achieved. a difference of opinion arose, between the earl and one of the french colonels, as to the time of a particular movement. the latter became highly excited, and very confident he was right. the earl referred to lord mark kerr, whose position, at the time of that movement, rendered his decision conclusive. lord mark politely assured the french colonel, that he was mistaken; upon which the frenchman instantly insulted him, without saying a word, but in that felicitous manner, which enables a frenchman to convey an insult, even by his mode of taking snuff. soon after, the party broke up, and the earl of stair was left alone. in about half an hour, lord mark kerr returned, and found his uncle very much disturbed. "nephew," said he, "you know my strong dislike of duelling. in our situation we are sometimes, perhaps, unable to avoid it. the french colonel insulted you, at table; others noticed it, besides myself. i fear, my dear nephew, you will have to ask him to apologize." "i noticed it myself, my lord," replied the lord mark; "you need have no trouble, on that account--we have already met--i ran him through the body; and they are now burying him, in the outer court." duels are often produced, by a foolish, and fatal misestimate, which one man makes of another's temperament. the diminutive frame, the pale cheek, and small voice, modest carriage, youth, and inexperience, afford no certain indicia: _nimium ne crede colori_. men of small stature, are sometimes the more _brusque_, and more on the _qui vive_, from this very circumstance. ingentes animos angusto in pectore volvunt. that a man will not fight, like a dragon, simply because he has neither the stature of falstaff, nor the lungs of bottom, is a well authenticated _non sequitur_. a well told, and well substantiated illustration of all this, may be found, in mackenzie's life of decatur, page . i refer to the case of joseph bainbridge, who, in , when a midshipman, and an inexperienced boy, was purposely and wantonly insulted, at malta, by a professed duellist, the secretary of sir alexander ball, the governor. no one can read mackenzie's narrative, without a conviction, that bainbridge owed the preservation of his life, to the address of decatur. they met--fired twice, at four paces; and, at the second fire, the english duellist fell, mortally wounded in the head: bainbridge was untouched. when i was a school boy, more than fifty years ago, i remember to have read, in an english journal, whose name i have now forgotten, a story, which may have been a fiction; but which was very naturally told, and made a deep impression upon me then. i will endeavor to draw it forth from the locker of my memory; and engage, beforehand, to be very much indebted to any one, who will indicate its original source. three young gentlemen, who had finished the most substantial part of their repast, were lingering over their fruit and wine, at an eating-house, in london; when a man, of middle age, and middle stature, entered the public room, where they were sitting; seated himself, at one end of a small, unoccupied table; and, calling the waiter, ordered a simple mutton chop, and a glass of ale. his appearance, at first view, was not likely to arrest the attention of any one. his hair was getting to be thin and gray; the expression of his countenance was sedate, with a slight touch, perhaps, of melancholy; and he wore a gray surtout, with a standing collar, which, manifestly, had seen service, if the wearer had not--just such a thing, as an officer would bestow upon his serving man. he might be taken for a country magistrate, or an attorney, of limited practice, or a schoolmaster. he continued to masticate his chop, and sip his ale, in silence, without lifting his eyes from the table, until a melon seed, sportively snapped, from between the thumb and finger of one of the gentlemen, at the opposite table, struck him upon the right ear. his eye was instantly upon the aggressor; and his ready intelligence gathered, from the illy suppressed merriment of the party, that this petty impertinence was intentional. the stranger stooped, and picked up the melon seed, and a scarcely perceptible smile passed over his features, as he carefully wrapped up the seed, in a piece of paper, and placed it in his pocket. this singular procedure, with their preconceived impressions of their customer, somewhat elevated, as they were, by the wine they had partaken, capsized their gravity entirely, and a burst of irresistible laughter proceeded from the group. unmoved by this rudeness, the stranger continued to finish his frugal repast, in quiet, until another melon seed, from the same hand, struck him, upon the right elbow. this also, to the infinite amusement of the other party, he picked from the floor, and carefully deposited with the first. amidst shouts of laughter, a third melon seed was, soon after, discharged, which hit him, upon the left breast. this also he, very deliberately took from the floor, and deposited with the other two. as he rose, and was engaged in paying for his repast, the gayety of these sporting gentlemen became slightly subdued. it was not easy to account for this. lavater would not have been able to detect the slightest evidence of irritation or resentment, upon the features of the stranger. he seemed a little taller, to be sure, and the carriage of his head might have appeared to them rather more erect. he walked to the table, at which they were sitting, and with that air of dignified calmness, which is a thousand times more terrible than wrath, drew a card from his pocket, and presented it, with perfect civility, to the offender, who could do no less than offer his own, in return. while the stranger unclosed his surtout, to take the card from his pocket, they had a glance at the undress coat of a military man. the card disclosed his rank, and a brief inquiry at the bar was sufficient for the rest. he was a captain, whom ill health and long service had entitled to half pay. in earlier life he had been engaged in several affairs of honor, and, in the dialect of the fancy, was a dead shot. the next morning a note arrived at the aggressor's residence, containing a challenge, in form, and one only of the melon seeds. the truth then flashed before the challenged party--it was the challenger's intention to make three bites at this cherry, three separate affairs out of this unwarrantable frolic! the challenge was accepted, and the challenged party, in deference to the challenger's reputed skill with the pistol, had half decided upon the small sword; but his friends, who were on the alert, soon discovered, that the captain, who had risen by his merit, had, in the earlier days of his necessity, gained his bread, as an accomplished instructor, in the use of that very weapon. they met and fired, alternately, by lot; the young man had elected this mode, thinking he might win the first fire--he did--fired, and missed his opponent. the captain levelled his pistol and fired--the ball passed through the flap of the right ear, and grazed the bone; and, as the wounded man involuntarily put his hand to the place, he remembered that it was on the right ear of his antagonist, that the first melon seed had fallen. here ended the first lesson. a month had passed. his friends cherished the hope, that he would hear nothing more from the captain, when another note--a challenge of course--and another of those accursed melon seeds arrived, with the captain's apology, on the score of ill-health, for not sending it before. again they met--fired simultaneously, and the captain, who was unhurt, shattered the right elbow of his antagonist--the very point upon which he had been struck by the second melon seed: and here ended the second lesson. there was something awfully impressive, in the _modus operandi_, and exquisite skill of this antagonist. the third melon seed was still in his possession, and the aggressor had not forgotten, that it had struck the unoffending gentleman, upon the left breast! a month had past--another--and another, of terrible suspense; but nothing was heard from the captain. intelligence had been received, that he was confined to his lodgings, by illness. at length, the gentleman who had been his second, in the former duels, once more presented himself, and tendered another note, which, as the recipient perceived, on taking it, contained the last of the melon seeds. the note was superscribed in the captain's well known hand, but it was the writing evidently of one, who wrote _deficiente manu_. there was an unusual solemnity also, in the manner of him, who delivered it. the seal was broken, and there was the melon seed, in a blank envelope--"and what, sir, am i to understand by this?"--"you will understand, sir, that my friend forgives you--he is dead." no. cl. a curious story of vicarious hanging is referred to, by several of the earlier historians, of new england. the readers of hudibras will remember the following passage, part ii. -- "justice gives sentence, many times, on one man for another's crimes. our brethren of new england use choice malefactors to excuse, and hang the guiltless in their stead, of whom the churches have less need: as lately 't happen'd:--in a town there liv'd a cobbler, and but one, that out of doctrine could cut use, and mend men's lives, as well as shoes. this precious brother having slain, in times of peace, an indian, not out of malice, but mere zeal, because he was an infidel; the mighty tottipottymoy sent to our ciders an envoy; complaining sorely of the breach of league, held forth by brother patch, against the articles in force between both churches, his and ours, for which he crav'd the saints to render into his hands, or hang th' offender: but they, maturely having weigh'd they had no more but him o' the trade, a man that served them, in a double capacity, to teach and cobble, resolved to spare him; yet to do the indian hoghan moghan too impartial justice, in his stead did hang an old weaver, that was bedrid." this is not altogether the sheer _poetica licentia_, that common readers may suppose it to be. hubbard, mass. hist. coll. xv. , gives the following version, after having spoken of the theft--"the company, as some report pretended, in way of satisfaction, to punish him, that did the theft, but in his stead, hanged a poor, decrepit, old man, that was unserviceable to the company, and burthensome to keep alive, which was the ground of the story, with which the merry gentleman, that wrote the poem, called hudibras, did, in his poetical fancy, make so much sport. yet the inhabitants of plymouth tell the story much otherwise, as if the person hanged was really guilty of stealing, as may be were many of the rest, and if they were driven by necessity to content the indians, at that time to do justice, there were some of mr. weston's company living, it is possible it might be executed not on him that most deserved, but on him that could be best spared, or was not likely to live long, if let alone." morton published his english canaan, in , and relates the story part iii. ch. iv. p. , but he states, that it was a proposal only, which was very well received, but being opposed by one person, "they hanged up the real offender." as the condemned draw nigh unto death--the scaffold--the gibbet--it would be natural to suppose, that every avenue to the heart would be effectually closed, against the entrance of all impressions, but those of terrible solemnity; yet no common truth is more clearly established, than that ill-timed levity, vanity, pride, and an almost inexplicable pleasure, arising from a consciousness of being the observed of all observers, have been exhibited, by men, on their way to the scaffold, and even with the halter about their necks. the story is well worn out, of the wretched man, who, observing the crowd eagerly rushing before him, on his way to the gallows, exclaimed, "gentlemen, why so fast--there can be no sport, till i come!" in jesse's memoirs of george selwyn, i. , it is stated, that john wisket, who committed a most atrocious burglary, in , the evidence of which was perfectly clear and conclusive, insisted upon wearing a large white cockade, on the scaffold, as a token of his innocence, and was swung off, bearing that significant appendage. in the same volume, page , it is said of the famous lord lovat, that, in scotland, a story is current, that, when upon his way to the tower, after his condemnation, an old woman thrust her head into the window of the coach, which conveyed him, and exclaimed--"_you old rascal, i begin to think you will be hung at last_." to which he instantly replied--"_you old b----h, i begin to think i shall_." in walpole's letters to mann, , a very interesting and curious account may be found, of the execution of the lords kilmarnock, and balmarino. these lords, with the lord cromartie, who was pardoned, were engaged, on the side of the pretender, in the rebellion of . "just before they came out of the tower, lord balmarino drank a bumper to king james's health. as the clock struck ten, they came forth, on foot, lord kilmarnock all in black, his hair unpowdered, in a bag, supported by forster, the great presbyterian, and by mr. home, a young clergyman, his friend. lord balmarino followed, alone, in a blue coat, turned up with red, _his rebellious regimentals_, a flannel waistcoat, and his shroud beneath, the hearses following. they were conducted to a house near the scaffold; the room forwards had benches for the spectators; in the second was lord kilmarnock; and in the third backwards lord balmarino--all three chambers hung with black. here they parted! balmarino embraced the other, and said--'my lord, i wish i could suffer for both.'" when kilmarnock came to the scaffold, continues walpole,--"he then took off his bag, coat, and waistcoat, with great composure, and, after some trouble, put on a napkin cap, and then several times tried the block, the executioner, who was in white, with a white apron, out of tenderness concealing the axe behind himself. at last the earl knelt down, with a visible unwillingness to depart, and, after five minutes, dropped his handkerchief, the signal, and his head was cut off at once, only hanging by a bit of skin, and was received in a scarlet cloth, by four undertakers' men kneeling, who wrapped it up, and put it into the coffin with the body; orders having been given not to expose the heads, as used to be the custom. the scaffold was immediately new strewed with sawdust, the block new covered, the executioner new dressed, and a new axe brought. then came old balmarino, treading with the air of a general. as soon as he mounted the scaffold, he read the inscription on his coffin, as he did again afterwards: he then surveyed the spectators, who were in amazing numbers, even upon masts of ships in the river; and, pulling out his spectacles, read a treasonable speech, which he delivered to the sheriff, and said the young pretender was so sweet a prince, that flesh and blood could not resist following him; and, lying down to try the block, he said--'if i had a thousand lives i would lay them all down here in the same cause.' he said, if he had not taken the sacrament the day before, he would have knocked down williamson, the lieutenant of the tower, for his ill usage of him. he took the axe and felt of it, and asked the headsman how many blows he had given lord kilmarnock, and gave him two guineas. then he went to the corner of the scaffold, and called very loud to the warder, to give him his periwig, which he took off, and put on a night cap of scotch plaid, and then pulled off his coat and waistcoat and lay down; but being told he was on the wrong side, vaulted round, and immediately gave the sign, by tossing up his arm, as if he were giving the signal for battle. he received three blows, but the first certainly took away sensation. as he was on his way to the place of execution, seeing every window open, and the roofs covered with spectators--'look, look,' he cried, 'see how they are piled up like rotten oranges!'" following the english custom, the clergymen of boston were in the habit, formerly, of preaching to those, who were under sentence of death. i have before me, while i write, the following manuscript memoranda of dr. andrew eliot--" , july . thursday lecture preached by dr. sewall to three poor malefactors, who were executed p. m." " , oct. . went to cambridge to attend eliza wakefield, this day executed. mr. grady began with prayer. mr. appleton preached and prayed." there is a printed sermon, preached by dr. andrew eliot, on the lords' day before the execution of levi ames, who was hung for burglary oct. , . ames was present, and the sermon was preached, by his particular request. the desire of distinction dies hard, even in the hearts of malefactors. dr. andrew eliot was a man of excellent sense, and disapproved of the practice, then in vogue, of lionizing burglars and murderers, of which, few, at the present day, i believe, have any just conception. for their edification i subjoin a portion of a manuscript note, in the hand writing of the late dr. ephraim eliot, appended to the last page of the sermon, delivered by his father. "levi ames was a noted offender--though a young man, he had gone through all the routine of punishment; and there was now another indictment against him, where there was positive proof, in addition to his own confession. he was tried and condemned, for breaking into the house of martin bicker, in dock square. his condemnation excited extraordinary sympathy. _he was every sabbath carried through the streets with chains about his ankles and handcuffed, in custody of the sheriff's officers and constables, to some public meeting, attended by an innumerable company of boys, women and men._ nothing was talked of but levi ames. the ministers were successively employed in delivering occasional discourses. stillman improved the opportunity several times, and absolutely persuaded the fellow, that he was to step from the cart into heaven." it is quite surprising, that our fathers should have suffered this interesting burglar--"_misguided_" of course--to be hung by the neck, till he was dead. when an individual, as sanguine, as dr. stillman appears to have been, in regard to levi ames, remarked of a notorious burglar, a few days after his execution, that he had certainly been _born again_, an incredulous bystander observed, that he was sorry to hear it, for some dwelling-house or store would surely be broken open before morning. no. cli. we are sufficiently acquainted with the catholic practice of roasting heretics--that of boiling thieves and other offenders is less generally known. _caldariis decoquere_, to boil them in cauldrons, was a punishment, inflicted in the middle ages, on thieves, false coiners, and others. in , seventeen persons, in the family of the bishop of rochester, were poisoned by rouse, a cook; the offence was, in consequence, made treason, by henry viii., punishable, by boiling to death. margaret davie was boiled to death, for the like crime, in . quite a number of roman ladies, in the year b. c., formed a poisoning society, or club; and adopted this quiet mode of divorcing themselves from their husbands: seventy of the sisterhood were denounced, by a slave, to the consul, fabius maximus, who ordered them to be executed. none of these ladies were boiled. boiling the dead has been very customary, after beheading or hanging, and drawing, and quartering, whenever the criminal was sentenced to be hung afterwards, in chains. thus father strype--" .--sir thomas wyatt's fatal day was come, being the th of april, when, between nine and ten of the clock, aforenoon, on tower hill, he was beheaded; and, by eleven of the clock, he was quartered on the scaffold, and his bowels and members burnt beside the scaffold; and, a car and basket being at hand, the four quarters and the head were put into the basket, and conveyed to newgate, to be parboiled." one more quotation from strype--" .--may th, was thomas stafford beheaded on tower hill, by nine of the clock, mr. wode being his ghostly father; and, after, three more, viz., stowel, proctor, and bradford were drawn from the tower, through london, unto tyburn, and there hanged and quartered: and, the morrow after, was stafford quartered, and his quarters hanged on a car, and carried to newgate to boil." how very ingenious we have been, since the days of cain, in torturing one another! boiling and roasting are not to be thought of. the turkish bowstring will never be adopted here, nor the chinese drop, nor their mode of capital punishment, in which the criminal, having been stripped naked, is so confined, that he can scarcely move a muscle, and, being smeared with honey, is exposed to myriads of insects, and thus left to perish. crucifixion will never be popular in massachusetts, though quite common among the syrians, egyptians, persians, africans, greeks, romans, and jews. starving to death, sawing in twain, and rending asunder, by strong horses, have all been tried, but are not much approved of, by the moderns. the rack may answer well enough, in catholic countries, but, in this quarter, there is a strong prejudice against it. exposure to wild beasts is objectionable, for two reasons; one of these reasons resembles the first of twenty-four, offered to the queen of hungary, for not ringing the bells upon her arrival,--there were no bells in the village--we have no wild beasts. the second reason is quite germain--man is savage enough, without any foreign assistance. burying alive, though it has been employed, as a punishment, in other countries, is, literally, too much for flesh and blood; and, i am happy to say, there is not a sexton in this city, who would, knowingly, be a party to such a barbarous proceeding. death has been produced, by preventing sleep, as a mode of punishment. impaling, and flaying alive, tearing to pieces with red hot pincers, casting headlong from high rocks, eviscerating the bowels, firing the criminals from the mouths of canons, and pressing them slowly to death, by weights, gradually increased, upon the breast, the _peine forte et dure_, are very much out of fashion; though one and all have been frequently employed, in other times. there is a wheel of fashion, as well as a wheel of fortune, in the course of whose revolutions, some of these obsolete modes of capital punishment may come round again, like polygon porcelain, and antiquated chair-backs. should our legislature think proper to revive the practice, in capital cases, of heading up the criminal in a barrel, filled with nails, driven inward, a sort of inverted _cheval de frize_, and rolling him down hill, i have often thought the more elevated corner of our common would be an admirable spot for the commencement of the execution, were it not for interrupting the practice of coasting, during the winter; by which several innocent persons, in no way parties to the process, have been very nearly executed already. shooting is apt to be performed, in a bungling manner. hanging by the heels, till the criminal is dead, is very objectionable, and requires too much time. the mode adopted here and in england, and also in some other countries, of hanging by the neck, is, in no respect agreeable, even if the operator be a skilful man; and, if not, it is highly offensive. the rope is sometimes too long, and the victim touches the ground--it is too frail, and breaks, and the odious act must be performed again--or the noose is unskilfully adjusted, the neck is not broken, and the struggles are terrible. the sword, in a turkish hand, performs the work well. it was used in france. charles henry sanson, the hereditary executioner, on the third of march, , presented a memorial to the constituent assembly, in which he objected to decollation, and stated that he had but two swords; that they became dull immediately; and were wholly insufficient, when there were many to be executed, at one time. monsieur sanson knew nothing then of that delightful instrument, which, not long afterward, became a mere plaything, in his hands. stoning to death and flaying alive have been employed, occasionally, since the days of stephen and bartholomew. the axe, so much in vogue, formerly, in england, was a ruffianly instrument, often mangling the victim, in a horrible manner. after all, there is nothing like the guillotine; and, should it ever be thought expedient to erect one here, i should recommend, for a location, the knoll, near the fountain, on our common, which would enable a very large concourse of men, women, and children, to witness the performances of both, at the same moment. the very best account of the guillotine, that i have ever met with, is contained in the london quarterly review, vol. lxxiii. page . it is commonly supposed, that this instrument was invented by dr. guillotin, whose name it bears. it has been frequently asserted, that dr. guillotin was one of the earliest, who fell victims to its terrible agency. it has been still more generally believed, that this awfully efficient machine was conceived in sin and begotten in iniquity, or in other words, that its original contrivers were moved, by the spirit of cruelty. all these conjectures are unfounded. the guillotine, before its employment, in france, was well known in england, under the name of the halifax gibbet. a copy of a print, by john doyle, bearing date , and representing the instrument, may be found, in the work, to which i have, just now, referred. pennant, in his tour, vol. iii. page , affirms, that he saw one of the same kind, "in a room, under the parliament house, at edinburgh, where it was introduced by the regent, morton, who took a model of it, as he passed through halifax, and, at length, suffered by it, himself." the writer in the london quarterly, puts the question of invention at rest, by exhibiting, on page , a copy of an engraving, by henry aldgrave, bearing date , representing the death of titus manlius, under the operation of "an instrument, identical with the guillotine." during the revolution, dr. guillotin was committed to prison, from which he was released, after a tedious confinement. he died in his bed, at paris, an obscure and inoffensive, old man; deeply deploring, to the day of his decease, the association of his name, with this terrible instrument--an instrument, which he attempted to introduce, in good faith, and with a merciful design, but which had been employed by the devils incarnate of the revolution, for the purposes of reckless and indiscriminating carnage. dr. guillotin was a weak, consequential, well-meaning man, willing to mount any hobby, that would lift him from the ground. he is described, in the _portraits des personnes célebres_, , as a simple busybody, meddling with everything, _à tort et à travers_, and being both mischievous and ridiculous. he had sundry benevolent visions, in regard to capital punishment, and the suppression, _by legal enactment_, of the _sentiment_ of prejudice, against the families of persons, executed for crime! among the members of the faculty, in every large city, there are commonly two or three, at least, exhibiting striking points of resemblance to dr. guillotin. in urging the merits of this machine, upon merciful considerations, his integrity was unimpeachable. he considered hanging a barbarous and cruel punishment; and, by the zeal and simplicity of his arguments, produced, even upon so grave a topic, universal laughter, in the constituent assembly--having represented hanging, as a tedious and painful process, he exclaimed, "now, with my machine, _je vous sauter le tête_, i strike off your head, in the twinkling of an eye, and you never feel it." no. clii. the sansons, hereditary executioners, in paris, were gentlemen. in , carlier, executioner of paris, was dismissed. his successor was charles sanson a lieutenant in the army, born in abbeville, in picardy, and a relative of nicholas sanson, the celebrated geographer. charles sanson married the daughter of the executioner of normandy, and hence a long line of illustrious executioners. charles died in ; and was succeeded by his son charles. charles sanson, the second, was succeeded by his son, charles john baptiste, who died aug. , , when his son charles henry was appointed in his place; and, in , retired on a pension. by his hand, with the assistance of two of his brothers, the king, louis xvi. was guillotined. this charles henry had two sons. his eldest, the heir-apparent to the guillotine, was killed, by a fall from the scaffold, while holding forth the head of a man, executed for the forgery of assignats. henry, the younger son of charles henry, therefore became his successor, at the time of his retirement, in . to fill this office, he gave up his military rank, as captain of artillery. he died aug. , . he was an elector, and had a taste for music and literature. he was succeeded by his son, henry clement, dec. , . these particulars will be found on page of _recherches historiques et physiologiques, sur la guillotine, &c._, par m. louis du bois. paris, . monsieur du bois informs us, that all these sansons were very worthy men, and that the present official possesses a fine figure, features stamped with nobility, and an expression sweet and attractive. how very little all this quadrates with our popular impressions of the common hangman! the objection to the guillotine, which was called, for a time, _louison_, after m. louis, secretary of the college of surgeons, that it would make men familiar with the sight of blood, was urged by the abbé maury, and afterwards, by a. m. la cheze. the duke de liancourt, inclined to _mercy_, that is, to the employment of the guillotine. he contended, that it was necessary to efface all recollections of hanging, which, he gravely remarked, had recently been so _irregularly applied_, referring to the summary process of lynching, as we term it--_à la lanterne_. it is curious to note the doubt and apprehension, which existed, as to the result of the first experiment of decollation. march , , the minister, duport du tertre, writes thus to the legislative assembly--"it appears, by the communications, made to me, by the executioners themselves, that, without some precautions, the act of decollation will be horrible to the spectators. it will either prove them to be monsters, if they are able to bear such a spectacle; or the executioner, himself, alarmed, will fall before the wrath of the people." the matter being referred to louis, then secretary of the academy of surgeons, he made his report, march , . the new law required, that the criminal should be decapitated--_aura la tête tranchée_; and that the punishment should be inflicted _without torture_. louis shows how difficult the execution of such a law must be--"we should recollect," says he, "the occurrences at m. de lally's execution. he was upon his knees, with his eyes covered--the executioner struck him, on the back of his neck--the blow was insufficient. he fell upon his face, and three or four cuts of the sabre severed the head. such _hacherie_ excited a feeling of horror." to such a polite and gentle nation, this must have been highly offensive. april , . roederer, procureur genéral, wrote a letter to lafayette, telling him, that a public trial of the new instrument would take place, that day, in the _place de grève_, and would, doubtless, draw a great crowd, and begging him not to withdraw the gens d'armes, till the apparatus had been removed. in the courrier extraordinaire, of april , , is the following notice--"they made yesterday (meaning the th) the first trial of the _little louison_, and cut off a head, one pelletier. i never in my life could bear to see a man hanged; but i own i feel a greater aversion to this species of execution. the preparations make me shudder, and increase the moral suffering. the people seemed to wish, that m. sanson had his old gallows." after the _louison_, or guillotine, had been in operation rather more than a year, the following interesting letter was sent, by the procureur genéral, roederer, to citizen guideu. " may, . i enclose, citizen, the copy of a letter from citizen chaumette, solicitor to the commune of paris, by which you will perceive, that complaints are made, that, after these public executions, the blood of the criminals remains in pools, upon the _place de grève_, that dogs came to drink it, and that crowds of men feed their eyes with this spectacle, which naturally instigates their hearts to ferocity and blood. i request you therefore to take the earliest and most convenient opportunity, to remove from the eyes of men a sight so afflicting to humanity." voltaire, who thought very gravely, before he delivered the sentiment to the world, has stated of his countrymen, that they were a mixture of the monkey and the tiger. undoubtedly he knew. in the revolution of , and in every other, that has occurred in france--those excepted which may have taken place, since the arrival of the last steamer--the tiger has had the upper hand. prudhomme, the prince of pamphleteers, having published fifteen hundred, on political subjects, and author of the general history of the crimes, committed, during the revolution, writing of the execution of louis xvi. remarks--"some individuals steeped their handkerchiefs in his blood. a number of armed volunteers crowded also to dip in the blood of the despot their pikes, their bayonets, and their sabres. several officers of the marseillais battalion, and others, dipped the covers of letters in this impure blood, and carried them, on the points of their swords, at the head of their companies, exclaiming 'this is the blood of a tyrant.' one citizen got up to the guillotine itself, and plunging his whole arm into the blood of capet, of which a great quantity remained; he took up handsful of the clotted gore, and sprinkled it over the crowd below, which pressed round the scaffold, each anxious to receive a drop on his forehead. 'friends,' said this citizen in sprinkling them, 'we were threatened, that the blood of louis should be on our heads, and so you see it is.'" rev. de paris, no. , p. . upon the earnest request of the inhabitants of several streets, through which the gangs of criminals were carried, the guillotine was removed, june , , from the _place de la revolution_ to the _place st. antoine_, in front of the ruins of the bastile; where it remained five days only, during which time, it took off ninety-six heads. the proximity of this terrible revolutionary plaything annoyed the shopkeepers. the purchasers of finery were too forcibly reminded of the uncertainty of life, and the brief occasion they might have, for all such things, especially for neckerchiefs and collars. once again then, the guillotine, after five days' labor, was removed; and took its station still farther off, at the _barrière du trône_. there it stood, from june till the overthrow of robespierre, july , : and, during those forty-nine days, twelve hundred and seventy heads dropped into its voracious basket. july , it was returned to the _place de la revolution_. sanson, charles henry, the executioner of louis xvi. had not a little _bonhomie_ in his composition--his infernal profession seems not to have completely ossified his heart. he reminds me, not a little, of sir thomas erpingham, who, george colman, the younger, says, carried on his wars, in france, in a benevolent spirit, and went about, i suppose, like dear, old general taylor, in mexico, "pitying and killing." on the day, when robespierre fell, forty-nine victims were ascending the carts, to proceed to the guillotine, about three in the afternoon. sanson, at the moment, met that incomparable bloodhound, the _accusateur public_, fouquier de tinville, going to dinner. sanson suggested the propriety of delaying the execution, as a new order of things might cause the lives of the condemned to be spared. fouquier briefly replied, "the law must take its course;" and went to dine--the forty-nine to die; and, shortly after, their fate was his. the guillotine, viewed as an instrument of justice, in cases of execution, for capital offences, is certainly a most merciful contrivance, liable, undoubtedly, during a period of intense excitement, to be converted into a terrible toy. during the reign of terror, matters of extreme insignificancy, brought men, women, and children to the guillotine. the record is, occasionally, awfully ridiculous. a few examples may suffice--jean julian, wagoner, sentenced to twelve years' imprisonment, took it into his head, on the way--_s'avisa_--to cry--_vive le roi_; executed september, .--jean baptiste henry sawed a tree of liberty; executed sept. , .--m. baulny, ex-noble, assisted his son to emigrate; executed jan. , .--la veuve marbeuf _hoped_ the austrians would come; executed feb. , .--francis bertrand, publican, sold sour wine; executed may , .--marie angelique plaisant, sempstress, exclaimed--"a fig for the nation;" executed july , . no. cliii. an interesting, physiological question arose, in , whether death, by decollation, under the guillotine, were instantaneous or not. men of science and talent, and among them dr. sue, and a number of german physicians, maintained, that, in the brain, after decapitation, there was a certain degree--_un reste_--of thought, and, in the nerves, a measure of sensibility. an opposite opinion seems to have prevailed. the controversy, which was extremely interesting, acquired additional interest and activity, from an incident, which occurred, on the scaffold, immediately after the execution of marie anne charlotte de corday d'armont--commonly known, under the imperishable name of _charlotte corday_. a brute, françois le gros, one of the assistant executioners, held up the beautiful and bleeding head, and slapped the cheek with his hand. a blush was instantly visible to the spectators. in connection with the physiological question, to which i have referred, a careful inquiry was instituted, and it was proved, very satisfactorily, that the color--the blush--appeared on _both_ cheeks, after the blow was given. dr. sue's account of this matter runs thus--"the countenance of charlotte corday expressed the most unequivocal marks of indignation. let us look back to the facts--the executioner held the head, suspended in one hand; the face was then pale, but had no sooner received the slap, which the sanguinary wretch inflicted, than both cheeks visibly reddened. every spectator was struck, by the change of color, and with loud murmurs cried out for vengeance, on this cowardly and atrocious barbarity. it can not be said, that the redness was caused by the blow--for we all know, that no blows will recall anything like color to the cheeks of a corpse; besides this blow was given on one cheek, and the other equally reddened." _sue; opinion sur le supplice de la guillotine, p. ._ sir thomas browne, in his religio medici, remarked, that he had never known a religion, in which there were impossibilities enough to give full exercise to an active faith. this remark greatly delighted sir kenelm digby, who was an ultra catholic. the faith of browne, in regard to things spiritual, was not an overmatch for his credulity, in regard to things temporal, which is the more remarkable, as he gave so much time to his pseudodoxia, or exposition of vulgar errors? he was a believer in the existence of invisible beings, holding rank between men and angels--in apparitions; and affirmed, _from his own knowledge_, the certainty of witchcraft. hutchinson, in his essay on witchcraft, repeats the testimony of dr. browne, in the case of amy duny and rose cullender, who were tried, before sir matthew hale, in ; and executed, at st. edmunds bury, as witches. sir thomas stated in court, "_that the fits were natural, but heightened, by the devil's coöperating with the malice of the witches, at whose instance he did the villanies_." he added that "a great discovery had lately been made, in denmark, of witches, who used the very same way of afflicting persons, by conveying pins into them." now it would be curious to know what sir thomas thought of the famous and apposite story of sir everard digby, the father of sir kenelm, and if the faith of sir thomas were strong enough, to credit that extraordinary tale. charlotte corday was _beheaded_, and sir everard digby was _hanged_. the difference must be borne in mind, while considering this interesting subject. sir everard, who was an amiable young man, was led astray, and executed jan. , , for the part he bore, in the gunpowder plot. wood, in his "athenæ oxonienses," vol. iii. p. , lond. , has the following passage--"sir everard digby, father to sir kenelme, was a goodly gentleman, and the handsomest man of his time, but much pitied, for that it was his ill fate to suffer for the powder plot, in , aged , at which time, when the executioner pluck'd out the heart, when the body was to be quartered, and, according to the manner, held it up, saying, _here is the heart of a traytor_, sir everard made answer, _thou liest_. this a most famous author mentions, but tells us not his name, in his _historia vitæ et mortis_." this most famous author is lord bacon--hist. vit. et mort., vol. viii. p. , lond. . the passage is so curious, that i give it entire--"anguillæ, serpentes et insecta diu moventur singulis partibus, post concisionem. etiam aves, capitibus avulsis, ad tempus subsultant: quin et corda animalium avulsa diu palpitant. equidem meminimus ipsi vidisse hominis cor, qui evisceratus erat (supplicii genere apud nos versus proditores recepto) quod in ignem, de more, injectum, saltabat in altum, primo ad sesquipedem, et deinde gradatim ad minus; durante spatio (ut meminimus) septem aut octo minutarum. etiam vetus et fide digna traditio est, de bove sub evisceratione mugiente. at magis certa de homine, qui co supplicii genere (quod diximus) evisceratus, postquam cor avulsum penitus esset, et in carnificis manu, tria aut quatuor verba precum auditus est proferre"--which may be englished thus--snakes, serpents, and insects move, a long time, after they have been cut into parts. birds also hop about, for a time, after their heads have been wrung off. even the hearts of animals, after they have been torn out, continue long to palpitate. indeed, we ourselves remember to have seen the heart of a man, who had been drawn, or eviscerated, in that kind of punishment, which we employ against traitors, and which, when cast upon the fire, according to custom, leapt on high, at first, a foot and a half, and gradually less and less, during the space, if we justly remember, of seven or eight minutes. there is also an ancient tradition, well entitled to credit, of a cow, that bellowed, under the process of evisceration. and more certain is the story of the man, who was eviscerated, according to the mode of punishment we have referred to, who, when his heart was actually torn out, and in the hands of the executioner, was heard to utter three or four words of imprecation. sir everard was executed, as i have stated, in . lord bacon was born jan. , , and died april , , twenty-one years only after digby's execution, and at the age of . lord bacon was therefore years old, when digby's execution took place, which fact has some bearing upon the authenticity of this extraordinary story. lord bacon speaks confidently of the fact; and his suppression of the name was very natural, as the family of sir everard were then upon the stage. a writer in the london quarterly review remarks, in a note on page , vol. , comparing the case of charlotte corday with that of sir everard digby--"this" (sir everard's) "was a case of _evisceration_, and not of _decapitation_, which makes the whole difference, as to the credibility of the story." chalmers relates the anecdote, and refers to wood's athenæ, and lord bacon's historia vitæ et mortis, but speaks of the tale, as "_a story, which will scarcely now obtain belief_." in the harleian miscellany, vol. iii. page , lond. , there is an account of the discovery of the gunpowder plot, imprinted at london, by robert barker, . on page , a very brief cotemporaneous account is given of digby's execution, in st. paul's churchyard, which contains no allusion whatever to the circumstance, stated by wood, and so very confidently, by lord bacon. i suppose few will really believe, that any man's conversational abilities can be worth much, after his head is off, or his heart is out. from the expression of the quarterly reviewer, it may be inferred, that he did not consider the story of sir everard digby utterly impossible and incredible. for my own part, i am very much inclined to hand over this extraordinary legend to judæus appella. every man, who has not, by long experience, like george selwyn, acquired great self-possession, while enjoying an execution, inclines to the marvellous. sir everard, before the work of evisceration began, it must be remembered, had been hanged, the usual length of time; and the words--"_thou liest_"--are stated to have been uttered, at the moment, when the heart, having been plucked out, was held up by the executioner. it is more easy of belief, that some guttural noise, like that, spasmodically uttered by certain birds, after their heads have been chopped off, may have sounded to the gaping bystanders, who looked and listened, _auribus arrectis_, not very unlike the words in question. the belief, that digby spoke these words, seems to be analogous to the belief, that, in _hydrophobia_, the sufferers bark like dogs, simply because, oppressed with phlegm, and nearly strangled, their terrific efforts, to clear the breathing passages, are accompanied with a variety of unintelligible, and horrible sounds. there are some curious cases, on record, which may have something to do with our reasoning, upon this subject. a similar species of death, attended by spasms or convulsions, is said to have been produced, by the bite of other animals. dr. fothergill relates cases of death, from the bite of a cat. thiermayer recites two cases, both terminating fatally, from the bite of a goose, and a hen. le cat, receuil periodique, ii. page , presents a similar case, from the bite of a duck. but we are not informed, that, the patient, in either of these cases, during the spasms, mewed, quacked, cackled, or hissed; and yet there seems to be no rational apology for a patient's _barking_, simply because he has been bitten, by a cat, or a duck, a goose, or a hen. spasmodic or convulsive motion, in a human body, which has been hung, or shot, or eviscerated, is a very different thing, from an intelligent exercise of the will, over the organs of speech, producing the utterance even of a word or syllable. in the cases of persons, who have been shot through the heart, violent spasmodic action is no unusual phenomenon. when i was a boy, the duel took place, between rand and millar, at dorchester point, then a locality as solitary, as hoboken, or the hebrides. the movements of the parties were observed, and their purposes readily surmised, by the officers, on castle william; and a barge was immediately despatched, from the fort. shots were exchanged, between the combatants, while the barge was passing over. rand fell, wounded through the heart; and, after lying motionless, for a very brief space, was seen to leap into the air several feet, and fall again, upon the earth. no. cliv. we are living and learning, forever. life is a court of cassation, where truth sits, as chancellor, daily reversing the most incomparably beautiful decrees of theoretical philosophy. it is not unlikely, that a very interesting volume of pages, folio, might be prepared, to be called the _mistakes of science_. the elephant in the moon, and the weighing of the fish have furnished amusement, in their day. even in our own times, philosophers, of considerable note, have seriously _doubted_ the truth of that incomparable hoax, concerning sir john herschell's lunar discoveries. savans were completely deceived, for a considerable period, by the electrical beatifications of mr. bose. one of the most amusing occurrences, upon record, on which occasion, the philosopher, unlike mr. bose, was a perfectly honest man, befell the famous mathematical instrument-maker, mr. troughton. he became fully possessed, by the idea, that certain persons, a select few, were capable of exerting a magnetic influence, over the needle, by advancing their faces towards it. so far from being common, this power was limited to a very small number. the statements of mr. troughton, and his well-established reputation, for integrity, caused the subject to be gravely discussed, by members of the royal society. every individual of the very small number, who possessed this remarkable power--every _medium_--was carefully examined. collusion seemed utterly impossible. a new theory appeared to be established. amazement ran through the learned assembly. a careful inquiry was instituted, in relation to the manner of life of these _mediums_, from their youth upwards, their occupations, diet, &c., and some very learned papers would, erelong, have been read, before the royal society, if mr. troughton himself had not previously made a most fortunate discovery--he discovered, that he wore a wig, constructed with _steel_ springs--such, also, was the case with every other _medium_! the tendency to predicate certainty, of things, manifestly doubtful, is exceedingly common. i fell, recently, into the society of some very intelligent gentlemen, who were _certain_, that sir john franklin was lost, irrecoverably lost. there are some--perhaps their name is not legion--whose faith is of superior dimensions to the mustard seed, and who believe, that sir john franklin is not destroyed; that he yet lives; and, that, sooner or later, he will come back to his friends and the world, with a world of wonders to relate, of all that he has seen and suffered. god, all merciful, grant it may be so. to all human observation, after a careful balancing of probabilities, there is certainly nothing particularly flattering in the prospect. yet, on the other hand, absolute, unqualified despair is irrational, and unjustifiable. the present existence of sir john franklin is certainly _possible_. no one, i presume, will say it is _probable_. some half a dozen good, substantial words are greatly needed, to mark shades between these two, and to designate what is more than _possible_, and less than _probable_. a careful consideration of the narrative of sir john ross, the narrative, i mean, of his second voyage, in quest of a northwest passage, and of his abode in the arctic regions, and of the opinion, very generally entertained, for a great length of time, that he was lost, will strengthen the impression, that sir john franklin also may be yet alive, _somewhere_! even then, a question may arise, in connection with the force of certain currents, referred to, by those, who have lately returned, from an unsuccessful search for sir john franklin, whether it may be possible to return, against those currents, with such means and appliances, as he possessed; and whether, even on this side the grave, there may not be a bourne, from which no presumptuous voyager ever shall return. the residence of sir john ross, in the arctic regions, continued, through five consecutive years, , ' , ' , ' , ' . to such, as imagine there is any effective summer, in those regions, and who have been accustomed to associate spring and summer, with flowers and fruits, it may not be amiss, by way of corrective, to administer a brief passage, from the journal of sir john ross, in august, --"but to see, to have seen, ice and snow, to have felt snow and ice forever, and nothing forever but snow and ice, during all the months of a year; to have seen and felt but uninterrupted and unceasing ice and snow, during all the months of four years, this it is, that has made the sight of those most chilling and wearisome objects an evil, which is still one in recollection, as if the remembrance would never cease." at this period, august, , very little hope was entertained, that sir john ross and his companions were living. even a year before, they were generally supposed to be lost. the abandonment of their ship, which had been locked fast in the ice, for years, and their almost inconceivable toil, while crossing, with their boats, on sledges, to the confluence of regent's inlet, and barrow's strait, are fully presented in the narrative. their hour of deliverance came at last, and the event cannot be better described, than in the words of sir john ross himself. as they were standing along the southern shore of harrow's strait, in their boats, on the th of august, a sail, to their inexpressible joy, hove in sight. after a period of great anxiety, lest she should not observe their signals of distress, their deep delight may be imagined, even by an unpractised landsman, when they first became assured, that they had attracted the notice of the crew, in one of the ship's boats. the reader will be better satisfied with an account from the lips of the [greek: polytropos os malla polla], himself. "she was soon along side, when the mate in command addressed us, by presuming, that we had met with some misfortune and lost our ship. this being answered in the affirmative, i requested to know the name of his vessel, and expressed our wish to be taken on board. i was answered, that it was the 'isabella, of hull, once commanded by captain ross;' on which i stated, that i was the identical man in question, and my people the crew of the victory. that the mate, who commanded this boat, was as much astonished, as he appeared to be, i do not doubt; while, with the usual blunderheadedness of men, on such occasions, he assured me, that i had been dead two years. i easily convinced him, however, that what ought to have been true, according to his estimate, was a somewhat premature conclusion; as the bear-like form of the whole set of us, might have shown him, had he taken time to consider, that we were certainly not whaling gentlemen, and that we carried tolerable evidence of our being 'true men and no imposters,' on our backs, and in our starved and unshaven countenances." however close the resemblance, between sir john ross and his comrades to _bears_, they soon become _lions_ on board the isabella. sir john continues thus-- "a hearty congratulation followed, of course, in the true seaman style, and, after a few natural inquiries, he added, that the isabella was commanded by captain humphreys; when he immediately went off in his boat to communicate his information on board; repeating, that we had long been given up as lost, not by them alone, but by all england." in this precedent, there is kindling stuff for hope, if not substantial fuel. after reading this account, the hearts of the strong-hearted cannot fail to be strengthened the more. a scientific and elaborate comparison of all the facts and circumstances, in the respective cases of ross and franklin, may lead to dissipate our hope. but hope is a vivacious principle, like the polypus, from the minutest particle remaining, growing up to be the integral thing, that it was. science, philosophy, perched upon theoretical stilts, occasionally walk confidently into the mire. sir john franklin may yet be among the living, notwithstanding those negative demonstrations, in which many so very plausibly indulge themselves. let us follow sir john ross and his companions on board the isabella.--"as we approached slowly after him (the mate of the isabella) he jumped up the side, and, in a minute, the rigging was manned; while we were saluted with three cheers, as we came within cable's length, and were not long in getting on board my old vessel, where we were all received, by captain humphreys, with a hearty seaman's welcome. though we had not been supported by our names and characters, we should not the less have claimed, from charity, the attentions we received; for never was seen a more miserable looking set of wretches. if to be poor, wretchedly poor, as far as all our present property was concerned, were to have a claim on charity, none could well deserve it more; but, if to look so, be to frighten away the so called charitable, no beggar, that wanders in ireland, could have outdone us, in exciting the repugnance of those, who know not what poverty can be. unshaven, since i know not when, dirty, dressed in the rags of wild beasts, instead of the tatters of civilization, and starved to the very bones, our gaunt and grim looks, when contrasted with those of the well dressed and well fed men around us, made us all feel, i believe, for the first time, what we really were, as well as what we seemed to others." very considerable training must, doubtless, be required, to reconcile a mohawk indian to a feather bed. a short passage from the journal of sir john ross forcibly illustrates the truth, that we are the creatures of habit. "long accustomed, however, to a cold bed, on the hard snow or the bare rock, few could sleep, amid the comforts of our new accommodations. i was myself compelled to leave the bed, which had been kindly assigned me, and take my abode in a chair for the night, nor did it fare much better with the rest. it was for time to reconcile us to this sudden and violent change, to break through what had become habit, and to inure us, once more, to the usages of our former days." no. clv. good, old sir william dugdale was certainly the prince of antiquaries. his labors and their products were greater, than could have been anticipated, even from his long and ever busy life. he was born, sept. , , and died, in his eighty-first year, while sitting quietly, in his antiquarian chair, feb. , . it seemed not to have occurred, so impressively, to other men, how very important was the diligent study of ancient wills, not only to the antiquarian, but to the historian, of any age or nation. dugdale's annotations, upon the royal and noble wills of england, are eminently useful and curious. a collection of "royal wills" was published, by mr. john nicholls, the historian of leicestershire, and the "testamenta vetusta," by mr. nicolas. these works are in very few hands, and some of them almost as rarely to be met with, as those of du cange, charpentiere, spelman, or lacombe. there is no small amount of information and amusement, to be gathered from these ancient declarations of the purposes of men, contemplating death, at a distance, or about to die; though it cannot be denied, that the wills of our immediate ancestors, especially, if they have amassed great wealth, and, after a few unimportant legacies to others, have made us their residuary legatees, furnish a far more interesting species of reading, to the rising generation. there are worthy persons, who entertain a superstitious horror, upon the subject of making a will: they seem to have an actual fear, that the execution of a will is very much in the nature of a dying speech; that it is an expression of their willingness to go; and that the king of terrors may possibly take them, at their word. there are others, who are so far from being oppressed, by any apprehension, of this nature, that one of their most common amusements consists in the making, and mending of their wills. "who," says the compiler of the testamenta vetusta, "would have the hardihood to stain with those evil passions, which actuate mankind, in this world, that deed, which cannot take effect, until he is before the supreme judge, and consequently immediately responsible for his conduct?" to this grave inquiry i, unhesitatingly answer--_thousands_! the secret motives of men, upon such occasions, if fairly brought to light, would present a very curious record. that record would, by no means, sustain the sentiment, implied, in the preceding interrogatory. malice and caprice, notoriously, have governed the testator's pen, upon numberless occasions. the old phrase--_cutting off with a shilling_--has been reduced to practice, in a multitude of instances, for considerations of mere hatred and revenge, or of pique and displeasure. the malevolent testator, who would be heartily ashamed, to avow what he had done, on this side the grave, is regardless of his reputation, on the other. goldsmith places in the mouth of one of his characters, a declaration, that he was disinherited, for liking gravy. this, however it may have been intended as a pleasantry, by the author, is, by no means, beyond the region of probability. considerations, equally absurd and frivolous, have, occasionally, operated upon the minds of passionate and capricious people, especially in the decline of life; and, though they are sensible of the bible truth, that they can carry nothing with them, they may, yet a little while, enjoy the prospective disappointment of another. the testamenta vetusta contain abstracts of numerous wills of the english kings, and of the nobility, and gentry, for several centuries, from the time of henry second, who began to reign, in . the work, as i have stated, is rare; and i am mistaken, if the general reader, any more than he, who has an antiquarian diathesis, will complain of the exhumation i propose to make of some, among the "reliques of thae antient dayes." it is almost impossible, to glance over one of these venerable testaments of the old english nobility, without perceiving, that the testator's thoughts were pretty equally divided, between beds, masses, and wax tapers. beds, with the gorgeous trappings, appurtenant thereto, form a common subject of bequest, and of entailment, as heir-looms. edward, the black prince, son of edward iii., died june , . in his will, dated the day before his death, he bequeaths "to our son richard,[ ] the bed, which the king our father gave us. to sir roger de clarendon,[ ] a silk bed. to sir robert de walsham, our confessor, a large bed of red camora, with our arms embroidered at each corner; also embroidered with the arms of hereford. to monsr. allayne cheyne our bed of camora, powdered with blue eagles. and we bequeath all our goods and chattels, jewels, &c., for the payment of our funeral and debts; after which we will, that our executors pay certain legacies to our poor servants. all annuities, which we have given to our knights, esquires, and other, our followers, we desire to be fully paid. and we charge our son richard, on our blessing, that he fulfil our bequests to them. and we appoint our very dear and beloved brother of spain, duke of lancaster,[ ] &c., &c., executors," &c. joan, princess of wales, was daughter of edmund plantagenet. from her extreme beauty, she was styled the "_fair maid of kent_." i find the following record in regard to joan--"she entered into a contract of marriage with thomas montacute, earl of salisbury; but sir thomas holland, h. g., on a petition to pope clement vi. alleged a precontract, _consensus et concubitus_, but that, he being abroad, the earl of salisbury unjustly kept her from him; and his holiness gave her to sir thomas." joan seems to have been a wilful body, and the reader may like to know what sort of a will she made, four hundred and sixty-six years ago. she finally became the wife of edward, the black prince, and, by him, the mother of richard ii. an abstract of her will runs thus--"in the year of our lord, , and of the reign of my dear son, richard, king of england and france, the th at my castle of walyngford, in the diocese of salisbury, the th of august, i, joan, princess of wales, duchess of cornwall, countess of chester, and lady wake. my body to be buried, in my chapel, at stanford, near the monument of our late lord and father, the earl of kent. to my dear son, the king, my new bed of red velvet, embroidered with ostrich feathers of silver, and heads of leopards of gold, with boughs and leaves issuing out of their mouths. to my dear son, thomas, earl of kent, my bed of red camak, paied with red and rays of gold. to my dear son, john holland, a bed of red camak." katherine of arragon wills, _inter alia_--"i supplicate, that my body be buried in a convent of observant friars. item, that for my soul be said c. masses. item, that some personage go to our lady of walsingham, in pilgrimage, and in going by the way, dole xx nobles. item, i ordain that the collar of gold, that i brought out of spain be to my daughter. * * * item, if it may please the king, my good lord, that the house ornaments of the church be made of my gowns, which he holdeth, for to serve the convent thereat i shall be buried. and the furs of the same i give for my daughter." william de longspee, earl of salisbury, was a natural son of henry ii., by fair rosamond, daughter of walter de clifford, and distinguished himself in the holy land. he bequeaths to the monastery of the carthusians--"a cup of gold, set with emeralds and rubies; also a pix of gold with xlii. s. and two goblets of silver, one of which is gilt; likewise a chesible and cope of red silk; a tunicle and dalmatick of yellow cendal; an alba, amice, and stole; also a favon and towel, and all my reliques; likewise a thousand sheep, three hundred muttons, forty-eight oxen, and fifteen bulls." it was not unusual, in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, to dedicate children, at the hour of their baptism, to the _military_ service of _god_, in palestine. an example of this may be found, in the will of william de beauchamp, who was the father of the first earl of warwick, and died before --"my body to be buried in the church of friars minors at worcester. i will, that a horse, completely harnessed with all military caparisons, precede my corpse: to a priest to sing mass daily, in my chapel without the city of worcester, near unto that house of friars, which i gave for the health of my soul, and for the soul of isabel my wife, isabel de mortimer, and all the faithful deceased, all my rent of the fee of richard bruli, in wiche and winchester, with supply of what should be short, out of my own proper goods. * * * to william, my oldest son, the cup and horns of st. hugh. * * * to isabel, my wife, ten marks[ ]: to the church and nuns of westwood one mark: to the church and nuns without worcester one mark: to every anchorite in worcester and the parts adjacent four shillings: to the church of salewarp, a house and garden, near the parsonage, to find a lamp to burn continually therein to the honor of god, the blessed virgins st. katherine, and st. margaret." the will of his son, the earl of warwick, is full of the spirit of the age. he died in --"my heart to be buried wheresoever the countess, my dear consort, may, herself, resolve to be interred: to the place, where i may be buried two great horses, viz., those which shall carry my armor at my funeral, for the solemnizing of which, i bequeath two hundred pounds: to the maintenance of two soldiers in the holy land one hundred pounds: to maud, my wife, all my silver vessels, with the cross, wherein is contained part of the wood of the very cross, on which our saviour died. * * * to my said wife a cup, which the bishop of worcester gave me, and all my other cups, with my lesser sort of jewels and rings, to distribute for the health of my soul, where she may think best: to my two daughters, nuns at shouldham, fifty marks." elizabeth de burgh, lady of clare, was the daughter of gilbert de clare, earl of gloucester, by joan d'acres, daughter of edward i. she was thrice married. her will is a curious affair, and bears date sept. , . she leaves legacies to her "servants" numbering, about one hundred and forty, and among whom are several knights and "peres."--"my body to be buried in the sisters minories, beyond aldgate. i devise c. c. lb. of wax, to burn round my corpse. i will that my body be not buried for fifteen days after my decease. * * * for masses to be sung for the souls of monsr. john de bourg, monsr. theobaud de verdon, and monsr. roger dammory, my lords, my soul, and for the souls of all my good and loyal servants, who have died or may die in my service cxl., li.: to find five men for the holy land c. marks, to be spent, in the service of god and destruction of his enemies, if any general voyage be made within seven years after my decease: to my daughter bardoff my bed of green velvet." elizabeth, countess of northampton, wife of william de bohnn, made her will, in . to the church of the friars preachers, in london, she bequeaths: "c. marks sterling, and also the cross, made of the very wood of our saviour's cross which i was wont to carry about me, and wherein is contained one of the thorns of his crown; and i bequeath to the said church two fair altar cloths of one suit, two of cloth of gold, one chalice, one missal, one graille,[ ] and one silver bell; likewise thirty-one ells of linen cloth for making of albes, one pulpitory, one portfory,[ ] and a holy water pot of silver." she also wills, that "one hundred and fifty marks be distributed to several other convents of friars preachers, in such manner as friar david de stirrington shall think best, for my soul's health: to the grey friars, in london five marks: to the carmelites five marks: and to the augustines five marks * * * to elizabeth my daughter a bed of red worsted embroidered: to my sister, the countess of oxford a black horse and a nonche.[ ]" believers in the doctrine of transubstantation must extend their faith to the very cross; for, to comprehend all the wood, in possession of the faithful, it must have consisted of many cords of substantial timber. no. clvi. the testamentary recognition of bastards, _eo nomine_, was very common, in the olden time. there were some, to whom funereal extravagance and pomp were offensive. sir ottro de grandison says, in his will, dated sept. , --"i entreat, that no armed horse or armed man be allowed to go before my body, on my burial day, nor that my body be covered with any cloth, painted, or gilt, or signed with my arms; but that it be only of white cloth, marked with a red cross; and i give for the charges thereof xx_l._ and x. quarters of wheat: to a priest to celebrate divine service, in the church at chellesfield for three years after my decease, xv_l._: to thomas, my son, all my armor, four horses, twelve oxen, and two hundred ewe sheep. * * * * to my bastard son," &c. henry, duke of lancaster, , wills, "that our body be not buried for three weeks after the departure of our soul." humphrey de bohun, earl of hereford, , bequeaths to his nephew humphrey--"a nonche[ ] of gold, surrounded with large pearls, with a ruby between four pearls, three diamonds, and a pair of gold paternosters of fifty pieces, with ornaments, together with a cross of gold, in which is a piece of the true cross of our lord: to elizabeth, our niece of northampton, a bed with the arms of england. * * * * we will also that a chaplain of good condition be sent to jerusalem, principally for my lady my mother, my lord my father, and for us; and that the chaplain be charged to say masses by the way, at all times that he can conveniently, for the souls." agnes, countess of pembroke, daughter of roger mortimer, earl of march, wills, in , that her body be buried, "within two days after my death, without any other cost than a blue cloth and two tapers of ten pound weight." robert, earl of suffolk, --"i will, that five square tapers and four mortars,[ ] besides torches, shall burn about my corpse, at my funeral: to william my oldest son my sword, which the king gave me, in name of the earldom, also my bed with the eagle, and my summer vestment, powdered with leopards." roger, lord de warre, personally took john, king of france, prisoner, at the battle of poictiers, and obtained the crampet or chape of his sword, as a memorial of his chivalry. his will bears date --"my body to be buried without pomp, and i will that, on my funeral day, twenty-four torches be placed about my corpse, and two tapers, one at my head and one at my feet, and also that my best horse shall be my principal, without any armour or man armed, according to the custom of mean people." he orders his estate to be divided into three parts--"one to be disposed of for the health of my soul." joan, lady cobham, --"i will that vii. thousand masses be said for my soul by the canons of tunbrugge and tanfugge and the four orders of friars in london, viz. the friars preachers, minors, augustines, and carmelites, who, for so doing shall have xxix_l._ iii_s._ iv_d._ also i will that, on my funeral day, twelve poor persons, clothed in black gowns and hoods, shall carry twelve torches." sir walter manney, --"my body to be buried at god's pleasure * * * but without any great pomp * * * twenty masses to be said for my soul, and that every poor person coming to my funeral shall have a penny to pray for me, and for the remission of my sins. * * * to my two bastard daughters, nuns, viz., mailosel and malplesant, the one cc. franks, the other c. franks. * * * to margaret mareschall, my dear wife, my plate, which i bought of robert francis; also a girdle of gold, and a hook for a mantle, and likewise a garter of gold, with all my girdles and knives, and all my beds and clossers in my wardrobe, excepting my folding bed, paly of blue and red, which i bequeath to my daughter of pembroke." thomas, earl of oxford, --"for my funeral expenses cxxxiii_l._ to maud my wife all my reliques now in my own keeping, and a cross made of the very wood of christ's cross. to sir alberic de vere, my brother, a coat of mail, which sir william de wingfield gave me, also a new helmet and a pair of gauntlets." anne, lady maltravers, --"no cloth of gold to be put upon my corpse, nor any more than five tapers, each weighing five pounds, be put about it." edward, lord despencer, --"to the abbot and convent of tewksbury one whole suit of my best vestments, also two gilt chalices, one gilt hanap, likewise a ewer, wherein to put the body of christ, on corpus christi day, which was given to me by the king of france. to elizabeth, my wife, my great bed of blue camaka with griffins; also another bed of camaka, striped with white and black, with all the furniture, thereto belonging." mary, countess of pembroke, --"to the abbey of westminster a cross with a foot of gold and emeralds, which sir william de valence, kt., brought from the holy land." philipa, countess of march, --"to edmond, my son, a bed, &c. also a gold ring, with a piece of the true cross, with this writing, _in nomine patris, et filii, el spiritus sancti, amen_. which i charge him, on my blessing to keep." sir john northwood, knight, --"i will that two pilgrims be sent to visit the shadow of st. peter, paul, and james, in gallacia." sir roger beauchamp, kt., --"my body to be buried in the church of the friars preachers, near to the grave, where sybil, my wife resteth. and i desire, that, at my funeral, there be a _placebo_ and _dirige_ with note, and, on the morrow after, two masses, one of our lady, and another of requiem. and whereas i am bound to do a service on the infidels, by devise of my grandsire, sir walter beauchamp, to the expense of two hundred marks, i will, that roger, son to roger, my son, shall perform the same, when he comes of age. to my chauntrey of bletnesho one hundred pounds, for the maintenance of one priest, to sing there perpetually, for my soul, and also for the soul of sybil, late my wife, and for all christian souls." william, lord latimer, --"i will that my house in the parish of st. mary's be sold, to found prayers for king edward's soul." guichard, earl of huntington, --"i will that my heart be taken out of my body and preserved with spices, and deposited in the said church of engle. i will that the expenses of my funeral, if celebrated with pomp, be bestowed in masses for my soul." edmond, earl of march, was a man of great note. his will is dated may , --"to the abbey of wigmore a large cross of gold, set with stones with a relique of the cross of our lord, a bone of st. richard the confessor, bishop of chicester, and a finger of st. thomas de cantelowe, bishop of hereford, and the reliques of st. thomas, bishop of canterbury. to roger, our son and heir, the cup of gold with a cover called _benesonne_, and our sword, garnished with gold, which belonged to the good king edward, with god's blessing and ours. * * * also our large bed of black satin, embroidered with white lions and gold roses." william, earl of suffolk, --"i will that, on the eve and day of my funeral, there shall be five square tapers of the height, which my nearest of kin shall think fit, and four morters; also forty-eight torches borne by forty-eight poor men, clothed in white. * * * i will that a picture of a horse and man, armed with my arms, be made in silver, and offered to the altar of our lady of walsingham; and another the like be made and offered at bromeholme." one of the most interesting, among the olden wills, is that of john, duke of lancaster--the famous john of gaunt. he died in february, . his will bears date feb. , --"my body to be buried, in the cathedral church of st. paul of london, near the principal altar, beside my most dear wife, blanch, who is there interred. if i die out of london, i desire that the night my body arrives there, it be carried direct to the friars carmelites, in fleet street, and the next day taken strait to st. paul's, and that it be not buried for forty days, during which i charge my executors, that there be no cering or embalming my corpse. * * * i desire that chauntries and obits be founded for the souls of my late dear wives blanch and constance, whom god pardon; to the altar of st. paul's my vestment of satin embroidered, which i bought of courtnay, embroider of london. * * * to my most dear wife, katherine, my two best nonches, which i have, excepting that, which i have allowed to my lord and nephew, the king, and my large cup of gold, which the earl of wilts gave to the king, my lord, upon my going into guienne, together with all the buckles, rings, diamonds, rubies and other things, that will be found, in a little box of cypress wood, of which i carry the key myself, and all the robes, which i bought of my dear cousin, the duchess of norfolk;[ ] also my large bed of black velvet, embroidered with a circle of fetter locks[ ] and garters, all the beds, made for my body, called trussing beds, my best stay with a good ruby, my best collar, all which my said wife had before her marriage with me, also all the goods and jewels, which i have given her, since my marriage. to my lord and nephew, the king,[ ] the best nonche, which i have, on the day of my death, my best cup of gold, which my dear wife katherine gave me, on new year's day last, my gold salt-cellar with a garter, and the piece of arras, which the duke of burgoyne gave me, when i was in calais." this is a mere extract. the will bequeaths numerous legacies of nonches, beds, and cups of gold; and abundantly provides for chauntries, masses, and obits. eleanor, duchess of gloucester, --"to the abbess and convent of the sisters minoresses, near london, without aldgate, vi_l._ xiii_s._ iiii_d._ and a tonel of good wine. * * * to my lady and mother, the countess of hereford, a pair of paternosters of coral." thomas mussenden, --"i will, that all my arms, swords, bastard,[ ] and dagger be sold, and disposed of, for my soul." william heron, lord say, --"whereas i have been a soldier, and taken wages from king richard and the realm, as well by land as by water, and peradventure received more than my desert, i will that my executor pay six score marks to the most needful men, unto whom king richard was debtor, in discharge of his soul." sir lewis clifford, kt.--"i, lewis clifford, false and traitor to my lord god, and to all the blessed company of heaven, and unworthy to be called a christian man, make and ordaine my testament and my last will the th of september, . at the beginning, i, most unworthy and god's traitor, recommend my wretched and sinful soul to the grace and to the mercy of the blissful trinity, and my wretched carrion to be buried in the furthest corner of the churchyard, in which parish my wretched soul departeth from my body. and i pray and charge my executors, as they will answer before god, that on my stinking carrion be neither laid cloth of gold nor of silk, but a black cloth, and a taper at my head and another at my feet; no stone nor other thing, whereby any man may know where my stinking carrion lieth." in the original, this word is written _careyne_. the reader will be amused to know the cause of all this humility. sir lewis had joined the lollards, who rejected the doctrines of the mass, penance for sins, extreme unction, &c.; but was brought back to the church of rome; and thus records his penitence. no. clvii. "tell thou the earl his divination lies." shakspeare. an impertinent desire to pry into the future, by unnatural means--to penetrate the hidden purposes of god--is coeval with the earliest development of man's finite powers. it is titanic insolence--and resembles the audacity of the giants, who piled pelion upon ossa, to be upon a level with the gods. divination, however old it may be, seems not to wear out its welcome with a credulous world, nor to grow bald with time. it has been longer upon the earth, than from the time, when joseph's silver cup, "whereby he divineth," was deposited, in benjamin's sack, to the days of moll pitcher of lynn, whose divining cup was of crockery ware. "_mediums_" are mentioned in the acts of the apostles--"_and it came to pass, as we went to prayer, a certain damsel, possessed with a spirit of divination, met us, which brought her masters much gain, by soothsaying_." paul cast out the evil spirit; an example worthy of consideration, by those, to whom the power is given, in the statute, to commit "_all persons, who use any juggling_," to the house of correction, unless their exhibitions are licensed, according to law. all manner of rogues and roguery has immemorially delighted in _aliases_. so has it been with that species of imposture, which assumes, that man's _finite_ powers are sufficient, for _infinite_ purposes. the black art, magic, fortune telling, sorcery, divination, soothsaying, augury, oracular responses, witchcraft, judicial astrology, palmistry, which is the same thing as chiromancy, or divination, by the lines of the hand or palm, horoscopy, which is a part of judicial astrology, haruspicy, or divination, from an inspection of entrails, aeromancy, the art of divining by the air, pyromancy, by flame or fire, hydromancy, by water, geomancy, by cracks or clefts in the earth, hepatoscopy, by the liver, stareomancy, by the elements, theomancy, by the spirit, demonomancy, by the revelation of genii or devils, idolomancy, by images, psychomancy, by the will or inward movement of the soul, antinopomancy, by the viscera of animals, theriomancy, by beasts, ornithomancy, by birds, icthyomancy, by fishes, botanomancy, by herbs, lithomancy, by stones, cleromancy, by lots, oneiromancy, by dreams, onomancy, by names, arithmancy, by numbers, logarithmancy, by logarithms, sternomancy, by the chest, gastromancy, by abdominal sounds, omphelomancy, by the signs of the navel, pedomancy, by the feet, onychomancy, by the nails, cephaleonomancy, by the marks of the head, tuphramancy, by ashes, capnomancy, by smoke, livanomancy, by the burning of frankincense, carromancy, by the burning of wax, lecanomancy, by basins of water, catoxtromancy, by mirrors, chartomancy, by certain writings on paper, machanomancy, by knives, chrystallomancy, by glasses, dactylomancy, by rings, coseinomancy, by seives, axinomancy, by saws, cattobomancy, by brazen chalices, roadomancy, by stars, spatalamancy, by bones and skins, sciomancy, by shadows, astragalomancy, by dice, oinomancy, by wine, sycomancy, by figs, typomancy, by the coagulation of cheese, alphitomancy, by flour or bran, crithomancy, by grain or corn, alectromancy, by cocks and hens, gyromancy, by rounds and circles, lampadomancy, by candles and lamps, nagomancy, or necromancy, by consulting, or divining with, by, or from the dead. the reader must bear in mind, that this list of absurdities is brief and imperfect. all these _mancies_, and many more may be found in gaule's mag-astro-mancer, page , and many of them are described in the fabricii bibliographia antiquaria. these mischievous follies have prevailed, in a greater or less degree, in every age, and among every people. during the very days of auguries, nevertheless, individuals have appeared, whose rough, common sense tore itself forcibly away, from the prevailing delusions of the age. a pleasant tale is related, by claude millot, of an old roman admiral. he was in pursuit of the carthagenian fleet; and, as he gained upon the enemy, and a battle seemed to be unavoidable, the haruspex, or priest, who, as usual, accompanied the expedition, with the birds of omen, and who had probably become alarmed, for his personal safety, came suddenly on deck, exclaiming, that the sacred pullets _would not eat_, and that, under such circumstances, it would be unsafe to engage. the old roman tar ordered the sacred pullets, then in their cage, to be brought before him, and, kicking them overboard, exclaimed, "_let them drink then_." the etymology of the word necromancy, [greek: nekros mantis], shows its direct application to the scandalous orgies, which are matters of weekly exhibition, in many of our villages and cities, under the name of _spiritual knockings_. though sir thomas browne could mark, learn, and inwardly digest a witch, a _necromancer_ was beyond his powers; and in book i., chap. x. of his pseudodoxia, he speaks, with deep contempt, of such as "can believe in the real resurrection of samuel, or that there is anything but delusion, in the practice of _necromancy_, and popular raising of ghosts." _necromancers_ are those, who pretend to a power of communing with the dead, that is, conjuring up spirits, and of consulting them, in regard to the affairs of this or the other world. in the strictest sense, the fishes and the foxes and their numerous imitators are _necromancers_, of course. this impious and eminently pernicious practice has been condemned, in every age, and by every civilized nation. it was condemned, by the law of moses--"there shall not be found among you any one, that maketh his son or his daughter to pass through the fire, or that useth divination, or an observer of times, or an enchanter, or a witch, or a charmer, or a consulter with familiar spirits, or a wizard or a necromancer. for all that do these things are an abomination unto the lord." deut. xviii. , , . conjurers may justly be accounted disturbers of the public peace; and such undoubtedly they are, most effectually, by unsettling the minds of credulous people, murdering sleep, and, occasionally, as in repeated instances, during the progress of the present delusion, by driving their infatuated victims to despair, insanity, and suicide. severe laws have often been enacted, against these pestilent impostors. conjuration was made felony by statute , james i., . this was repealed by geo. ii., . this repeal was in keeping with the ascendancy of common sense, which decreed, that all conjuration was an absurdity: but, at the same time, all _pretensions_ to exercise this or any similar art was made punishable, as a misdemeanor. all laws, against witchcraft and sorcery, founded on the presumption of their possibility, are now justly accounted cruel and absurd. laws, for the punishment of such, as disturb the public repose, by pretending to exercise these unnatural agencies, are no less judicious; though they have not always been effectual, against the prejudices of the people. the _genethliaci_, who erected their horoscopes in rome, for the purpose of foretelling future events, by judicial astrology, were expelled, by a formal decree of the senate; yet they long retained their hold, upon the affections of a credulous people. this species of divination, by the heavenly bodies, commenced with the chaldeans, and, from them, passed to the egyptians, greeks, and romans. henault informs us, that it was much in vogue, in france, during the days of catherine de medicis. roger bacon was greatly devoted to the practice of judicial astrology. cecil, lord burleigh, is known, gravely and elaborately to have calculated the nativity of queen elizabeth, who was feverishly addicted to magic. the judicial astrologers of the middle ages were a formidable body, and their conjuring cups and glasses were in high esteem. in sweden, judicial astrology was in the greatest favor, with kings and commoners. a particular influence was ascribed to the conjuring cup of erricus, king of sweden. the swedes firmly believed, that herlicius, their famous astrologer, had truly predicted the death of the monarch, gustavus adolphus, in , at the battle of lutzengen, or lippstadt. in the reigns of henry iii. and henry iv. of france, this absurd delusion was in such repute, that judicial astrologers were consulted, upon the most trivial occasions; and their daily predictions were the theme of grave and constant conversation, with every class of society. it was no uncommon thing, even in england, for those, who were desirous of communicating with the dead, to make a previous arrangement with some favorite astrologer, and _bespeak a spirit_, as we bespeak a coach, for some particular hour. in the autobiography of william lilly, the famous astrologer, in the time of the stuarts, a curious account is given of alexander hart, an astrologer, living in houndsditch, about the year . it seems, that hart had entered into a contract with a countryman, who had paid him twenty or thirty pounds, to arrange a meeting between this countryman and a particular spirit, at an appointed time. but, either hart's powers of raising the dead were unequal to the task, or the spirit had no inclination to keep up the countryman's acquaintance; certain it is, the spirit was unpunctual; and, the patience of the countryman becoming exhausted, he caused the astrologer to be indicted, for a cheat. he was convicted, and about to be set in the pillory, when john taylor, the water poet, persuaded chief justice richardson to bail him, and hart was fairly spirited away. he then fled into holland, where, a few years after, he gave up the spirit, in reality. its unintelligible quality is the very essence of delusion. nothing can be more unreasonable, therefore, than to mistake our inability to explain a mystery, for conclusive evidence of its reality and truth. that it is unintelligible or inexplicable surely affords less evidence of its reality, and truth, than is furnished of its falsehood, by its manifest inconsistency with all known natural laws. bruce informs us, that the inhabitants of the western coasts of africa pretend to hold a direct communication with the devil; and the evidence of the thing they assert is so very curious and imposing, that he and other travellers are entirely at fault, in their attempts to explain the mystery. yet no one, for a moment, supposes, that bruce had the slightest confidence in these absurdities. and yet, so great, so profound, was the belief of friar bacon, in this preposterous delusion, that, in his opus majus, page , he exclaims--"oh, how happy had it been for the church of god, and how many mischiefs would it have prevented, if the aspects and qualities of the heavenly bodies had been predicted, by learned men, and known to the princes and prelates of those times! there would not then have been so great a slaughter of christians, nor would so many miserable souls have been sent to hell." this eminently learned man, roger bacon, refers, in this remarkable passage, to the various calamities, which existed, in england, spain, and italy, during the year . the word, mathematician, seems to have been applied, in that age, exclusively to astrologers. peter de blois, one of the most learned writers of his time, who died a. d. , says, in the folio edition of his works, by gussanville, page --"mathematicians are those, who, from the position of the stars, the aspect of the firmament, and the motion of the planets, discover things, that are to come." "these prognosticators," says henry, in his history of great britain, vol. vi. page , "were so much admired and credited, that there was hardly a prince, or even an earl, or great baron, in europe, who did not keep one or more of them, in his family, to cast the horoscopes of his children, discover the success of his designs, and the public events, that were to happen." no. clviii. there are sundry precepts, delivered by heathen poets, some eighteen hundred years ago, which modern philosophy may not disregard with impunity. if it be true, and doubtless it is true, that a certain blindness to the future is given, in mercy, to man, how utterly unwise are all our efforts to rend the veil, and how preposterous withal! the wiser, even among those, who were not confirmed in the belief, that there was absolutely nothing, in the doctrines of auguries, and omens, and judicial astrology, have discountenanced all attempts to pry into the future, by a resort to such mystical agencies. the counsel of horace to leuconoe is fresh in the memory of every classical reader:-- "tu ne quæsieris, scire nefas, quem mihi, quem tibi finem dì dederint, leuconoë, neu babylonios tentàris numeros. ut melius, quidquid erit pati! seu plures hyemes, seu tribuit jupiter ultimam, quæ nunc oppositis debilitat pumicibus mare tyrrhenum"---- the version of francis, however imperfect, may not be unwelcome to the english reader:-- "strive not, leuconoe, to pry into the secret will of fate; nor impious magic vainly try to know our live's uncertain date. whether th' indulgent power divine hath many seasons yet in store, or this the latest winter thine, which breaks its waves against the shore." this passage from horace is not required, to establish the fact, that magical arts were practised, among the babylonians. a certain measure of superstition seems to belong to the nature of man; and to grow greater or less, in proportion to the exercise, or neglect, of his reasoning faculties. from this general rule history has furnished us with eminent exceptions. cunning, and cupidity, and credulity are destined to be ever present: it is therefore to be expected, that, from age to age, the most egregious absurdities will pass, upon a portion of the community, for sober truths. the fact, that popular absurdities have won the patient, if not the respectful, consideration of certain distinguished individuals, who have spoken, and written, doubtingly, if not precisely, in their favor, goes but a very little way, in their behalf. there was a time, when all the world believed, that the sun revolved around the earth, and that the blood was a stagnant pool, in the human body. there are none, i presume, of all, who give their confidence to any marvel of modern times, who are more learned or more wise, than sir matthew hale, or sir thomas browne. yet both these wise and learned men were firm believers, in witchcraft; and two miserable people, cullender and duny, were given over to be hung, by sir matthew, partly upon the testimony of sir thomas. though nobody, whose sense is of the common kind, believes in witchcraft, at the present day, there was formerly no lack of believers, in any rank, or profession, in society. the matter was taken for a fixed and incontrovertible fact. the evidence was clear and conclusive, in the opinion of some, among the most eminent judges. if to doubt was not exactly to be damned, it often brought the audacious unbeliever, in danger of being hanged. competent witnesses gravely swore, that pins and needles were run into their bodies, by persons, at the distance of a mile or more. for this offence, the witches were sentenced to be hanged; and, upon the gallows, confessed, with tears in their eyes, that they did really stick those identical pins, into the bodies of their accusers, being at the time, at the distance of a mile or more; and were swung off; having thus made their peace with god. witnesses actually swore, that their houses were rocked, by old women, apparently too feeble to rock an infant's cradle, and that tables and chairs were turned topsy turvy; and the old ladies confessed, that they had actually rocked two-story houses and upset those tables, and seemed to be pleased with the distinction of being hanged, for the achievement. whoever doubted these miracles was called upon to _explain_, or _believe_; and, if he could not indicate clearly the mode, in which this jugglery was effected, he was required to believe in a thing, which was manifestly not _in rerum natura_. in this dilemma, he might suggest an example of legerdemain, familiar to us all--a juggler puts an egg into an ordinary hat, and, apparently, in an instant, the egg is converted into a pancake. if the beholder cannot demonstrate how this is done, he, of course, must believe in the actual conversion, that is in transubstantiation. i have seen this little miracle performed, and confess i do not understand it; and yet i exceedingly doubt, if an egg can be so instantly converted into a pancake. the witch of endor pretended to conjure up the dead. the effigy was supposed to be made manifest to the eye. our modern witches and wizards conjure, up or down, whichever it may be, invisible spirits. these spirits have no power of audible speech; thus far, at least, they seem not to have recovered the use of their tongues. to be sure, spirit without matter cannot be supposed to emit sounds; but such is not the case here, for they convey their responses, audibly, by knockings. this is rather a circuitous mode of conveying intelligence, with their fingers and toes, which might be more easily conveyed by the voice. the difference, between our blitzes and samees, and the fishes and the foxes, consists in this--the former never, for a moment, pretend, that eggs are in reality pancakes, or that they actually perform the pretty miracles, which they seem to perform--the latter gravely contend, as it was contended, in the days of witchcraft, those days, that tried old women's souls, that their achievements are realities. so long as these matters are merely harmless, even though they consume much valuable time, that might be more worthily employed, and transfer the illy-spared coin of the credulous poor, from their own pockets, to the pockets of unprincipled jugglers and impostors, perhaps it may be well to suffer the evil to correct itself, and die even a lingering death. but, when it is manifestly spreading, broadcast, over the land, and even receiving a dash of something like grave importance from the pen, occasionally, of some professional gentleman, whose very doubt may dignify delusion; the matter seems really to demand some little consideration, at least: not that the doubts, even of a respectable physician, elaborately uttered, in a journal of fair repute, can do more to establish the power of mother fish or mother fox, to raise the dead, than was achieved, by the opinion of lord chief justice hale, in favor of witchcraft. that has fallen, as, in due time, this will fall, into merited contempt. but the expression of doubts, from a respectable quarter, upon an occasion like the present, tends, obviously, to strengthen those hands, which probably deserve to be paralyzed. so long, as a matter, like this, is confined to speculation, it may be suffered to flit by, like the folly of a day. but the pestilent thing, of which i am speaking, has, long ago, assumed an entirely different, and a severer, type. at this very time, individuals, who are strictly entitled to the name of vagabonds, male and female, are getting their bread, by cheating the curious and the credulous, in a great number of our towns and villages, by the performance of these frightful antics. this term is altogether too feeble, to express the meaning, which i would gladly fix, in the public mind. by these infernal agencies, children are imbued with a superstitious fear, which tends to enfeeble their intellects, and has a mischievous influence, upon life and conduct, to the end of their days--upon children of a larger growth, especially upon those of nervous temperament, and feeble health, the pernicious effect is incalculable. the fact is perfectly well known, and thoroughly established, that these diabolical orgies, and mystical teachings have not only inflicted the deepest misery on many minds, but have induced several infatuated persons, to commit self murder; and driven others to despair; deprived them of their reason; and caused them to be placed, in asylums for the insane. it is no longer therefore the part of wisdom to treat this evil, with sheer contempt. the conflagration has advanced too far, for us to hope it will go out, erelong, of its own accord. what is then the part of wisdom? there are individuals, whose opinions are certainly entitled to respect, and who conceive, that these mysteries deserve a full and formal examination, by a committee of wise and learned men, that the world may be guided by their decision. i am fearful, that such a course would result in nothing better than disappointment, if in nothing worse. these mysteries are protean, in their character-- "verum, ubi correptum manibus vinclisque tenebis, turn variæ eludent species atque ora ferarum." if the members of the learned inquisition should furnish an explanation of one, or more, of these _mirabilia_, a new series of perplexing novelties would speedily arise, and demand their attention;--so that the _savans_ would, necessarily, become a standing committee, on modern miracles. the incomparable blitz, if the process were discovered, by which he appears, instantaneously, to convert an egg into a pancake, would challenge you to explain another, by which he rapidly deduces some thirty yards of ribbon from the nose of a bystander. and, if we cannot explain this mystery, he may as reasonably demand of us to believe it a reality, as goody fox or goody fish may require her _customers_--for raising the dead is a trade--to believe in her power, to conjure up spirits, because we may not be able to discover the process, by which the rappings are produced. but, even if an investigation were made, by the most competent physiologists, and the decree should go forth, _ex cathedra_; it would, probably, produce a very slight impression upon the whole community. that same self-conceit, which often fills an old woman to the brim, with the belief, that she is a more skilful leech, than Æsculapius ever was, will continue to stand the credulous instead; and the rappings will go on, in spite of the decree of the _savans_; the spirits of the dead will continue to be raised, as they are, at present, at fifty cents apiece; men, women, and children will insist upon their inalienable right to believe, that eggs are pancakes, and that, in violation of all the established laws of nature, ghosts may be conjured up, at the shortest notice; and examples will continue to occur, of distressing nervous excitement, domestic misery, self-murder, and madness. the question recurs--what shall be done, for the correction of this increasing evil? some suggestions have been made, sufficiently germain to several of the extraordinary pretensions of the present day. thus, in respect to _clairvoyance_, a standing offer of several thousand francs has been made, by certain persons, in paris, to any individual, who will prove his ability to see through a pine plank. in regard also to the assumption of knowledge, obtained, through a pretended communication with spirits, a purse of gold has been offered to any person, who, with the aid of all the spirits he can conjure up to his assistance, will truly declare the amount it contains, with a moderate forfeit, in case of failure. this whole matter of conjuration, and spiritual rapping has become an insufferable evil. it is a crying nuisance, and should be dealt with accordingly. it is, by no means, necessary, before we proceed to abate a nuisance, to inquire, in what manner it is produced. it is not possible to distinguish, between the _chevaliers d'industrie_, who swindle the credulous out of their money, by the exhibition of these highly pernicious orgies, from conjurors and jugglers. if this construction be correct, and i perceive nothing to the contrary, then these mischief-makers come within the fifth section of chapter of the revised statutes of massachusetts. any police court or justice of the peace, has power to send to the house of correction, "_all persons who use any juggling_." it would be a public service to apply this wholesome law to goody fox, or goody fish, or any other goody, of either sex, holding these conjurations within our precinct. upon a complaint, the question would necessarily arise if the offence charged were "_juggling_" or not; and the rule of evidence, _cuique in sua arte_, would bring out the opinions of men, learned in their profession. i am aware of no other mode, by which those persons are likely to be gratified, who believe these proceedings entitled to serious examination. let us not drop this interesting subject here. no. clix. in the olden time, almanacs were exclusively the work of judicial astrologers. the calendar, in addition to the registration of remarkable events, and times, and tides, and predictions, in relation to the weather, presumed to foretell the affairs of mankind, and the prospective changes, in the condition of the world; not by any processes of reasoning, but by a careful contemplation of the heavenly bodies. on most occasions, these predictions were sufficiently vague, for the soothsayer's security; quite as much so, as our more modern foreshadowings, in relation to the weather, whose admonitions, to _expect a change_, _about these times_, are frequently extended from the beginning to the end of the calendar month. an example of this wariness appears, in a letter of john of salisbury, written in . "the astrologers," says he, "call this year the wonderful year, from the singular situation of the planets and constellations; and say, that, in the course of it, the councils of kings will be changed, wars will be frequent, and the world will be troubled with seditions; that learned men will be discouraged; but, towards the end of the year, they will be exalted." emboldened, by the almost universal deference, paid to their predictions, the astrologers soon began to venture, on a measure of precision, which was somewhat hazardous. in the commencement of the year , the most distinguished judicial astrologers, not only in england, but upon the continent, proclaimed, that there existed an unprecedented conjunction of the planets, in the sign libra. hence they predicted, that, on tuesday, the sixteenth day of september, at three o'clock in the morning, a storm would arise, such as the world had never known before. they asserted, with an amazing confidence, that, not only individual structures would be destroyed, by this terrible storm, but that great cities would be swept away, before its fury. this tempest, according to their predictions, would be followed, by a far spreading pestilence, and by wars of unexampled severity. a particular account of these remarkable predictions may be found, on page of the annals of roger de hoveden. no more conclusive evidence is necessary of the implicit, and universal confidence, which then prevailed, in the teachings of judicial astrology, than the wide spread dismay and consternation, produced by these bold and positive predictions. it is not possible to calculate the sum of human misery, inflicted upon society, by the terrible anticipations of these coming events. as the fatal day drew near, extraordinary preparations were everywhere made, to secure property, from the devastating effects of the approaching tempest. baldwin, archbishop of canterbury, commanded a solemn fast of three days' continuance, throughout his precinct. on the night of the fifteenth of september, very many persons sat up, in solemn expectation of the coming tempest. it has been cruelly observed of medical men, that, to some of their number, the death of a patient would, on the whole, be rather more agreeable, than that he should falsify their prediction, by the recovery of his health. how powerfully a sentiment, similar to this, must have exercised the spirits of these astrologers, as the appointed hour drew nigh! it came at last--bright and cloudless--followed by a day of unusual serenity. the season was one of extraordinary mildness; the harvest and vintage were abundant; and the general health of the people was a subject of universal observation. old gervase, of tilbury, in his chronicles, alluding to the archbishop's fears and fastings, remarks, that there were no storms, during the whole year, other than such, as the archbishop himself raised in the church, by his own absurdity and violence. the astrologers hung their heads, for very shame, and lost caste, for a time, with the people. divination was, of old, emphatically, a royal folly; and kings have been its dupes and votaries, from the earliest ages of the world. the secret manner, in which saul betook himself to the witch of endor, arose, partly, from his knowledge, that such orgies were a violation of divine and human laws. the evils, resulting from such absurdities, had become so apparent, that saul, himself, had already banished all the soothsayers and magicians from his kingdom. it is manifest, from the experience of saul, that it is unwise to consult a witch, upon an empty stomach--"_then saul fell straightway all along on the earth, and was sore afraid, because of the words of samuel: and there was no strength in him; for he had eaten no bread all the day, nor all the night_." lucan, lib. vi. v. , et seq., represents young pompey, just before the battle of pharsalia, as paying a nocturnal visit, to a sorceress of thessaly, of whom he inquires, in relation to the issue of the combat. with the ordinary preliminaries, charms, and incantations, the necromancer conjures up the ghost of a soldier, who had recently fallen in battle. at length, she pronounces a denunciation, between which and the prediction of the witch of endor, delivered to saul, the resemblance is certainly remarkable. the laws of france, in the time of louis xiv., were extremely rigorous, against sorcery and divination, inflicting the severest penalties, upon all, who pretended to exercise their skill, in these worse than unprofitable mysteries. nevertheless, an extraordinary story is related, in the autobiography of madame du barri, as communicated to her, by louis xv., of several visits stealthily paid, by louis xiv., and madame de maintenon, to a celebrated judicial astrologer, in paris. this narrative may be found recorded, at length, in the first volume of madame du barri's memoirs, commencing on page . the age of louis xiv. was an age of superstition. an italian priest, a secret professor of the art of necromancy, was induced, upon the king's promise of protection, against the parliament, in the event of a discovery, to satisfy the royal curiosity, and open the book of fate. at the hour appointed, being midnight, madame de maintenon and the _duc de noailles_ were conveyed to a house in sevrès, where they met the sorcerer, who had celebrated the mass alone, and consecrated several wafers. after performing a variety of ceremonies, he drew the horoscope of the king, and madame de maintenon. he promised the king, that he should succeed, in all his undertakings. he then gave his majesty a parcel, wrapped in new parchment, and carefully sealed, saying to the king--"the day, in which you form the fatal resolution of acquainting yourself with the contents of this package, will be the last of your prosperity; but, if you desire to carry your good fortune to the highest pitch, be careful, upon every great festival, easter, whitsunday, the assumption, and christmas, to pierce this talisman with a pin; do this, and be happy." certain events confirmed the sorcerer's predictions--others gave them the lie direct. the royal confidence was shaken. upon one occasion, the bishop of meaux, the great bossuet, chanced to be at the apartments of madame de maintenon; and the subject of magic and sorcery being introduced, the good bishop expressed himself, with such abhorrence of the profanation, as effectually to stir up a sentiment of compunction, in the bosom of the king and madame. at length, they disclosed the secret to their confessors, to whom the most effectual means of breaking the charm appeared to be, to break open the talismanic package; and this was accordingly imposed, as a penance, on the king. his sacred majesty was thus painfully placed, _inter cornua_, or, as we trivially say, between hawk and buzzard--between the priest and the sorcerer. his good sense, if not his devotion, prevailed. the package was torn open, in the presence of madame de maintenon, and father la chaise. it contained a consecrated wafer, pierced with as many holes, as there had been saints' days in the calendar, since it had been in the king's possession. that consternation fell upon the king, which becomes a good catholic, when he believes, that he has committed sacrilege. he was long disordered, by the recollection, and all, that masses and starvation could avail, to purge the offence, was cheerfully submitted to, by the king. louis xv. closes this farcical account, with a grave averment, that his ancestor, after this, lost as many male descendants, in the right line, as he had stuck pins, in the holy wafer. there may, possibly, be some little consolation, in the reflection, that, if the private history of louis le grand be entitled to any credit, like charles the second of england, he could well afford the sacrifice--of whom butler pleasantly remarks-- "go on, brave charles, and if thy back, as well as purse, but hold thee tack, most of thy realm, in time, the rather than call thee king, shall call thee father." the millennarians of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries--and these enthusiasts are, by no means, of modern origin--may be said to have hunted, in company with the judicial astrologers. herlicius and the millennarians solemnly predicted the destruction of the turkish empire, in , the one relying upon the aspect of the stars, and the other upon their fantastical interpretation of the scriptures; and both, in all likelihood, chiefly, upon the good sword and stubborn will of the emperor; who, to their infinite disappointment and mortification, finally made peace with the ottomans. yet david herlicius was no impostor, or if so, there was no greater dupe to his astrological doctrines than himself. he was a learned, pious, and honest man. there is, probably, no more extensively popular error, than that a deceiver must possess, on all occasions, a greater measure of knowledge than the deceived. herlicius was an eminent physician; and bayle says of him, vol. vi. page --"one can hardly imagine why a man, who had so much business, in the practice of physic, and who never had any children, should fear to want bread in his old age, unless he drew horoscopes." this eminent man had doubtless some little misgivings, as to the infallibility of the art, after the failure of his prediction, in relation to the ottomans. bayle recites an extract of a letter, from herlicius to a friend, in which the writer says: "oh that fortune would look kindly upon me! that, without meddling with those astrological trifles, i might make provision for old age, which threatens me with blindness; and i would never draw any horoscope. in the mean time, when a great many persons inquire for, and desire to know more things, than are within the compass of our art, or more than it can explain, i choose rather to act with conscience, than to disgrace, and, as it were, to defile, our sacred astrology, and to cast a blemish upon it. for our art abounds with a great number of chaldean superstitions, which several of our countrymen are still obstinately fond of. a great many ask me what color of clothes and horses will be lucky for them? sometimes i laugh heartily, at these and other such absurd questions, but i do also often abhor them. for i am enamored with the virgin state of our art, nor can i suffer that it should be so abominably defiled, as to give the enemies of astrology an opportunity to object to us those abuses, to the contempt of the art itself." at the period, when herlicius unfortunately predicted the destruction of the ottoman power, judicial astrology was in the highest favor in england. the date of the prediction, , was the sixth year of charles the second. whatever space remained, unoccupied by other follies, during the reign of the stuarts, and even during the interregnum, was filled by the preposterous doctrines of judicial astrology. it is perfectly well established, that charles the first, when meditating his escape from carisbrook castle, in , consulted the famous astrologer, sir william lilly. no. clx. isabel, countess of warwick, --"my body is to be buried, in the abbey of tewksbury; and i desire, that my great templys[ ] with the baleys[ ] be sold to the utmost, and delivered to the monks of that house, so that they grutched not my burial there. also i will that my statue be made, all naked, with my hair cast backwards, according to the design and model, which thomas porchalion[ ] has, for that purpose, with mary magdalen laying her hand across, and st. john the evangelist on the right side, and st. anthony on the left." the singularity of this provision would lead one to believe that the testatrix made her will, under the influence of st. anthony's fire. john, lord fanhope, --"to john, my bastard son, now at ampthill, ccc. marks; and, in case he should die, before he attain the age of twenty-one, i will that thomas, my other bastard son, shall have the said ccc. marks." henry beaufort was the second son of john of gaunt, duke of lancaster, by katherine swinford, a bastard born, but with his brothers and sister, legitimated by act of parliament, rich. ii., became bishop of lincoln --translated to winchester, , and made a cardinal. he was remarkable, for his immense wealth, prudence, and frugality. he was four times chancellor of england. he is reported to have clung to life with a remarkable tenacity. rapin says, he died for grief, that wealth could not save him from death. the death bed of this cardinal is admirably described by shakspeare, in the second part of king henry vi., act iii., scene iii.: _k. henry._ how fares my lord? speak beaufort to thy sovereign. _cardinal._ if thou be'st death, i'll give thee england's treasure, enough to purchase such another island, so thou wilt let me live, and feel no pain. * * * * * _warwick._ see how the pangs of death do make him grin. _salisbury._ disturb him not, let him pass peaceably. _k. henry._ peace to his soul, if god's good pleasure be! lord cardinal, if think'st on heaven's bliss, hold up thy hand, make signal of thy hope. he dies, and makes no sign; oh god forgive him! _warwick._ so bad a death argues a monstrous life. _k. henry._ forbear to judge, for we are sinners all-- close up his eyes, and draw the curtains close. the cardinal's will, though without date, was made about .--"i will that ten thousand masses be said for my soul, as soon as possible after my decease, three thousand of requiem, three thousand of _de rorate coeli desuper_, three thousand of the holy ghost, and one thousand of the trinity. * * * * item, i bequeath to my lord, king henry, a tablet with reliques, which is called the tablet of bourbon, and a cup of gold with a ewer, which belonged to the illustrious prince, his father, and offered by him on easter eve, and out of which cup he usually drunk, and for the last time drank. * * * * item, i bequeath to my lord the king, my dish or plate of gold for spices, and my cup of gold, enamelled with images." in two codicils to this will, cardinal beaufort refers to certain crown jewels, and vessels of silver and gold, pledged to him by the king and parliament, for certain sums lent. when the king went into france and normandy, and upon other subsequent occasions, the cardinal had loaned the king £ , _s._ _d._ it appears in rymer, vol. x. page , that the king redeemed the sword of spain and sundry jewels, pledged to the cardinal, for £ _s._ _d._ john, duke of exeter, --"i will that four honest and cunning priests be provided, to pray perpetually every year, for my soul." he then conveys certain manors to his son henry, "provided always, that an annuity of xl_l._ be reserved for my two bastard sons, william and thomas." william burges, garter king of arms, , bequeaths to the church of st. george at staunford--"to the seyd chirch for ther solempne feste dayes to stand upon the high awter grete basque of silver, and high candlesticks of sylver, coupe of sylver, in the whych is one litel box of yvory, to put in the blessid sacrament." he also gives to said church "two greter candelstykkes, and for eiche of these candelstykkes to be ordayned a taper of waxe of pound wight, and so served, to be lighted atte dyvyne servyce at pryncipal fest dayes, and al other solempne festes, as, at matyns, pryme, masse, and the yeven songs." john, lord scrope, --"to the altar, in the chapel of st. mary, at york, a jewel, with a bone of st. margaret, and xl_s._ for ringing their bells, at my funeral." ann, duchess of exeter, --"i forbid my executors to make any great feast, or to have a solemn hearse, or any costly lights, or largess of liveries according to the glory or vain pomp of the world, at my funeral, but only to the worship of god, after the discretion of mr. john pynchebeke, doctor of divinity." edmund brudenell, --"to agmondesham church; to the provosts of the church for the maintenance of the great light before the cross xx_s._ to the maintenance of the light before st. katherine's cross, iii_s._ iv_d._" john younge, --"to the fabrick of the church of herne, viz., to make seats, called puyinge, x. marks." john sprot, clerk, --"to each of my parishioners xl_d._" the passion for books, merely because of their antique rarity, and not for their intrinsic value, is not less dangerous, for the pursuer, than that, for collecting rare animals, and forming a private menagerie, at vast expense. even the entomologist has been known to diminish the comforts of his family, by investing his ready money in rare and valuable bugs. it has been pleasantly said of him, "he leaves his children, when he dies, the richest cabinet of flies." there is no doubt, that, in those superstitious days, the traffic in relics must have been a source of very great profit to the priests; equal, at least, to the traffic in _ancient terra cottas_, in the days of nollekens. the sleeves of those crafty friars could not have been large enough, to hold their laughter, at the expense of the faithful. the heir apparent, whose grief, for the death of his ancestor, was sufficiently subdued, by his refreshing anticipations of some thousands of marks in ready money, must have been somewhat startled, upon the reading of the will, to find himself residuary legatee, _for life_, of the testator's "reliques, remainder over to the carthusian friars!" such, and similar, things were of actual occurrence. william haute, esquire, made his will, may , , of course, in the reign of edward the fourth. this worthy gentleman ordains--"my body to be buried, in the church of the augustine friars, before the image of st. catherine, between my wives. * * * * i bequeath one piece of that stone, on which the archangel gabriel descended, when he saluted the blessed virgin mary, to the image of the blessed virgin mary of the church of bourne, the same to stand under the foot of the said image. i bequeath one piece of the bone of st. bartholomew to the church of waltham. one piece of the hair cloth of st. catherine, the virgin, and a piece of the bone of st. nicholas, to the church of the augustine friars aforesaid. i bequeath all the remainder of my relicks to my son william, _for life_, with remainder to the augustine friars forever." humphrey, earl of devon, --"i will, that mr. nicholas goss and mr. watts, warden of the grey friars, at exeter, shall, for the salvation of my soul, go to every parish church, in the counties of dorset, somerset, wilts, devon, and cornwall, and say a sermon, in every church, town, or other; and as i cannot recompense such as i have offended, i desire them to forgive my poor soul, that it be not endangered." william, earl of pembroke, --"in nomine jesu, &c. and wyfe, that ye remember your promise to me, that ye take the ordre of widowhood, as ye may the better mayster your owne * * * * wyfe pray for me, and take the said ordre, that ye promised me, as ye had, in my lyfe, my hert and love." this lady, who was the daughter of sir walter devereux, observed her vow, and died the widow of the earl; which is the more remarkable, as these injunctions have often produced an opposite effect, and abbreviated the term of continency. sir harry stafford, kt., --"to my son-in-law, the earl of richmond, a trappur, four new horse harness of velvet; to my brother, john, earl of wiltshire, my bay courser; to reynold bray, my receiver general, my grizzled horse." cecilia lady kirriel, --"in my pure widowhood, &c. to john kirriel, bastard, &c." it is not unusual for the consciences of men, in a dying hour, to clutch, for security, at the veriest straws. it is instructive to consider the evidences, exhibited in these ancient testaments, of superfluous compunction. sir walter moyle, knt., , directs his feoffees "to make an estate, in two acres of land, more or less, lying in the parish of estwell, in a field called calinglond, and deliver the same, in fee simple, to three or four honest men, to the use and behoof of the church of estwell aforesaid, in recompense of a certain annual rent of £ of wax, by me wrested and detained from the said church, against my conscience." it was not unusual, to appoint overseers, to have an eye upon executors; a provision, which may not be without its advantages, occasionally, even in these days of more perfect morality, and higher law. sir ralph verney, knt., , appoints four executors, and "my trewe lover, john browne, alderman of london, to be one of the _overseers_ of this my present testament, and to have a remembrance upon my soul, one of my cups, covered with silver gilt." monks and friars were pleasant fellows in the olden time, and nuns are not supposed to have been without their holy comforts. landseer's fine picture of bolton abbey is a faithful illustration. the fat of the land, when offered to idols, has commonly been eaten up by deputy. however shadowy and attenuated the souls of their humble and confiding tributaries, the carcasses of abbots are commonly represented as superlatively fat and rubicund. bequests and devises to lights and altars were very common. eustace greville, esquire, , bequeaths "to the light of the blessed mary, in the said church of wolton, three pounds of wax in candles and two torches; to the altar of the blessed mary in the said church, one bushel of wheat and as much of barley; and to the lights of the holy cross there one bushel of barley and as much of beans; and the same to the light of st. katherine there." finis. dust to dust. in utter disregard of all precedent, i have placed this dedication at the end of the volume, deeming it meet and right, that the corpse should go before. how very often the publication of a ponderous tome has been found to resemble the interment of a portly corpse! how truly, ere long, it may be equally affirmed, of both--the places, that knew them, shall know them no more! mæcenas was the friend and privy counsellor of augustus cæsar; and, accordingly, became, in some measure, the dispenser of executive patronage. the name of mæcenas has been employed, ever since, to signify a patron of letters and the arts. dedications are said to have been coeval with the days of his power. in almost every case, a dedication is neither more nor less, than an application for convoy, from the literary mariner, who is scarcely willing to venture, with his fragile bark, "_in mare creticum_" or _criticum_, unaided and alone. he solicits permission to dedicate his work to some distinguished individual--in other words, to place his influential name, upon the very front of the volume, as an amulet--a sort of passover--to keep evil spirits and critics, at a distance. if the permission be granted, of which the public is sure to be informed, the presumption, that the patron has read and approved the work, amounts to a sanction, of course, to the extent of his credit and authority. in some cases, however, i have reason to believe, that the only part of the work, which the patron ever reads, is the dedication itself. that most amiable and excellent man, and high-minded bibliopolist, the late mr. james brown, informed me, that an author once requested permission, to dedicate his work, to a certain professor, in the state of new york, tendering the manuscript, for his perusal; and that the professor declined reading the work, as superfluous; but readily accepted the dedication, observing, that he usually received five dollars, on such occasions. there was one, to whom it would afford me real pleasure to dedicate this volume, were he here, in the flesh; but he has gone to his account. grossman is numbered with the dead! reader--if you can lay your hand upon your heart, and honestly say, that you have read these pages, or any considerable portion of them, with pleasure--that they have afforded you instruction, or amusement--i dedicate this volume--with your permission, of course--most respectfully, to you; having conceived the most exalted opinion of your taste and judgment. l. m. sargent, rock hill, december, . general index. the figures refer to the numbers--not to the pages. a. abner, cautioned by his father, as to his behavior to aged people, . adams, john, anecdote of, : --lines written under his name, in a lady's album, . airs, national, authorship of, . almsgiving, . ambassadors, from u. s. a. to g. b. . ancestry, pride of, . antiquaries, sometimes malicious, . apothecaries, in boston--some notice of, . aristocracy, of boston--examples of, : --among the dead, . arms, reversed, at military funerals, of great antiquity, . arnold, benedict, what made him a traitor, . arundines cami, . asclepiades, of prusa, his medical practice, . astrologers, judicial, formerly part of a nobleman's household, . --false prediction of, in . ibid. --consulted by louis xiv. and madame de maintenon, . astrology, judicial, q. elizabeth addicted to.--much practised, in the middle ages, , . avarice, . avery, steals three negroes:--attempts to sell them:--their rescue, . aymar, james, a famous impostor, . auctions, various modes of:--by inch of candle:--by sand glass:--of fish among the dutch:--various modes of notifying, and bidding at, . auctioneer's bell, used at the hague:--formerly in boston, . b. babylonians, their mode of obtaining husbands, for homely women, . bachelors punished by the lacedemonians for their celibacy:--not trusted with affairs of state at athens, . barbers, , , , : --their antiquity, : --formerly peripatetics, : --their shops and poles, : --female, : --their citternes and "knack with the fingers," . baptism, vicarious, . baths, ancient, . battel, wager of, . beards, habits of the ancients, respecting, : --modern, : --dyeing them an ancient practice, . belknap, jeremy, rev. : --his desire for a sudden death, : --regard for historical truth, : --error, as to gosnold, . bells, and bell ringing:--weight of several:--a terror to "evill spirytes," . benevolence, remarkable example of, . bentham, jeremy, dissected by his own request, . "bleed and purge all kensington," . bodies, posthumous preservation of, . bodkin, the famous root and herb doctor, . boiling to death, a mode of punishment, . boodle, william, his self-conceit, . boorn, stephen and jesse, remarkable case of erroneous conviction, on circumstantial evidence, to , both inclusive. borri, joseph francis, a famous impostor, . bradford, sheriff, anecdote of, . brocklebank, parson, anecdote of, . burial, joint stock companies, : --their profits enormous, : --of weapons, by the slaves, at charleston, . "bring out your dead," . buchanan, james, his errors, in relation to major andré, corrected, . burke and bishop, executed, for murder, with intent to sell the bodies, . burying the dead, manner of, commended, : --in cities and under churches, objections to, , , , : --manner of, and practices, connected therewith, in different ages and nations, , , , , , , , , , : --premature, , , : --means for preventing, , . bull john, and brother jonathan, : --john, the musician, author of "god save the king," . byles, mather, anecdotes of, , . c. cades, sexton, how he lost his office, . california fever, . campbell, hung for killing boyd in a duel, . campbell, captain, steals an heiress, . candles, burnt in the day, at a church, in nantucket, : --of wax, at popish funerals, in old times, . --by inch of, ancient mode of selling at auction, . caner, rev. dr., some notice of, . capital punishment, , , , , , . capital offences, in massachusetts, in , . carter, sexton, insulted by a chirurgeon, . catacombs, : --of paris, , . catafalque, its import, . chadwick, edwin, his report on interments, to the british parliament, . chapel, king's, some account of, . charles i. funeral of, : --his body discovered, in , : --v. legend of his mock funeral, denied, . children, female, destruction of, in china, and elsewhere, . chinese, habits of the, . chuang-tsze, story of, , . clarendon, in error, as to the burial place of king charles i. . clarke, barnabas, anecdote of, . clark, alvan, his versatility of talent, . clay, henry, his frequent leavetakings, . cobbett, william, his letter to lord liverpool, on the american triumphs, . congress, american, lord chatham's opinion of, . courage, personal, externals no sure criterion of--two remarkable examples, . conscience parties, . corday, charlotte de, an interesting question, connected with her decapitation, . cremation, cost of--least expensive mode, excepting the urns, : --of henry laurens, : --of cranmer, latimer, and ridley:--their diet in prison, . criminals, how to dispose of, : --bodies of, delivered for dissection, : --number waiting to be hung, . cromwell, oliver, various estimates of his character:--views and handles the dead body of charles i.:--his funeral:--his body dug up, and hung, at tyburn, . crucifixion, . d. daddy osgood, sold at auction, . danforth, dr. samuel, notice of, . deacons, their dispute about a tomb, . dead sea, some account of, , . death, certain evidence of, : --condition of the soul, after, : --imitation of, : --by shipwreck, . dentists, in boston, some notice of, . desecration, of the dead, , , . dickson, provost of dundee, his epitaph, . diedrick van pronk's widow, anecdote of, . digby, everard, account of his having spoken, after the removal of his heart, . dinah furbush, her corpse insulted, . diogenes, anecdote of, . distillers, in boston, number of, . divination, some account of, , . divining rod, of james aymar, . "don't go too near that hedge," . dreams, of martin smith and king's chapel, by the old sexton, , , . drunkenness, at ordinations, . dryden, john, disturbance at his funeral, . duels, between benjamin woodbridge and henry phillips, on boston common, to , both inclusive: --various, to , both inclusive: --punishment of, : --number killed in, : --decatur and barron, : --lord bruce and sir edward sackville, : --lords mohun and hamilton, : --sheridan and matthews, : --m'keon and reynolds, : --campbell and boyd, : --colclough and alcock, : --david and goliath, : --titus manlius and the gaul, : --hector and ajax, : --turnus and Æneas, : --rauber and a spanish gentleman, : --cameron, and mclean, : --lord mark kerr and a french colonel, : --joseph bainbridge and the secretary of sir alexander ball, : --rand and millar, . dugdale, sir william, the antiquary, . dyonisius, to save his throat, taught his daughters to shave, . e. effigies of the dead, made of cinnamon, and carried in the procession, . egyptians, trials of their kings, after death, : --every egyptian a doctor, . eli, the sexton, his hallucinations, . eliot, rev. andrew, gloves and rings, given him at funerals, and the sale of, . embalming, process of, . empirics, , , , , . epitaphs, , . estimate of americans by the english people, in and , . evidence, circumstantial, remarkable examples of, to , both inclusive: --webster's case, . execution, in ballyconnel, . f. fakeer, east india, account of his apparent death, and resurrection, , . famine, keayne's granary in case of, . faneuil hall, origin of:--burnt:--rebuilt and enlarged, , . faneuil peter, and his relatives, some account of, to , both inclusive: --aids henry phillips, to escape, after his fatal duel, with woodbridge, . food for ghosts, . fortune-hunters, remarkable disappointment of one, , . franklin, benjamin, his account of the resurrection of flies, drowned in wine, : --his letter to thomas percival, on duelling, : --sir john, probably lost, . freeman, dr., manner of his ordination, . friendships, rarely lifelong:--examples of, : --cicero's first law of, . frizzell's bell, . funerals, invitations to, : --baked meats at:--games, and festivals at, . g. gifts, new year's, . gloves and rings, at funerals, . gosnold, bartholomew, his abode, at cuttyhunk, . governor of mass., anecdote of a, . granny, anecdote of skinning, . grossman threatened to be shot, . guillotin, dr. : --the instrument that bears his name, , . h. hair, management of the, . halley, thomas, great pomp, and much guzzling, at his funeral, . halifax gibbet and the guillotine identical, . handel, rivalry, between him, and senesino, and buononeini, : --swift's epigram, on their squabbles, . hanging, sensations produced by, : --vicarious, : --persons differently moved, in prospect of, . hanway, sir jonas, his account of the practice of giving vales, . happiness, . hastÆ, why auctions were so called, at rome, . hawes, dr. william, his work on premature interment, . heiress, stealing an, made felony:--remarkable examples of, . henry viii. bone stolen from his corpse, : --some account of his funeral, . herse, ancient import of the word, . hook, theodore, anecdote of, . "how could the poor abbé sustain himself against you all four?" . howlers, at funerals, ancient and modern, , . huguenots, in boston:--their early settlement, in oxford, mass. : --their church in boston, , . i. idleness, effects of, . infanticide, . innholders, in boston, number of, . intolerance, in massachusetts, . j. james ii., his gallantry, when duke of york, in a sea-fight, . jews usurious, , banished, . je vous sauter le tête, . l. laceration, of the cheeks and hair, at funerals, in greece, rome, and elsewhere, , , . largesses at funerals, . laurens, henry, his body burnt, after death, by his request, . lawyers, in boston, their number at different periods, . le mercier, andré, minister of the huguenots, in boston, . levi, m. de, his pride of ancestry, . liberty tree, , . philip billes devises his estate, on condition of being buried under that tree, . licinius, p., games, &c., at his funeral, . lilly, sir william, the astrologer, notice of, . lind, jenny, some account of, . lloyd, dr. james, his appearance, . localities, certain interesting, . longevity, some examples of, . lot's wife, pillar of salt, &c., , : --seen by irenæuis and others, after she was salted, . louis xvi., brutal behaviour of the french people, at his execution, . lovat, lord, his repartee, on his way to be hung, . ludii, histriones, scurrÆ, . luxury, ever injurious, and often fatal, to republics, , . lyman, theodore, notice of him, and his public and private charities, . m. marcus flavius, anecdote of, . marriages, taxed:--first celebration of, in churches:--forbidden during lent, . mariner bound for africa, reaches norway, . marshall, tommy, anecdote of, . martyrs, cremation of:--cost of burning cranmer, latimer, and ridley, . mashee, tooley, plays corpse, . mcphee, widow nelly, anecdote of, . medicine, origin of the practice of, : --practice of, among the babylonians, greeks, egyptians, israelites, and hindoos, . mediums, some notice of, . mexican beggars, how employed by montezuma, . milton, john, his marriages, : --writes in favor of polygamy, : --desecration of his remains, . mingling the ashes of dear friends, in the same urn, practice of, . ministers of the gospel, in boston, in , . mirthfulness, its advantages, . money, george herbert's address to, . montgomery, gen. richard, his exhumation, and reinterment, . monuments, dryden's, ben jonson's, and cowley's, mutilation of, . mooncursers, laws for their punishment:--anecdote of, . moorhead, rev. john, some notice of, . moses, an apothecary, . mourners, their peculiar consolations, : --for the year , . mourning, time allowed for:--color of the vesture, in different countries, . irish, consists in the number of coaches and the quantity of whiskey, . mule, a bad one, . n. napoleon's last words, . new year's day, when, , . new north church, uproar there, . north church, peal of bells there, . nuisance, affecting the air, not necessary to prove it noxious, . o. obsequies, provisions for, by persons, while living, . otis, james, anecdote of, . p. parkman, dr. george, his murder:--his peculiarities, . penn, william, reply to macaulay's abuse of:--memoir of, to , both inclusive: --death bed of his son, . percival, thomas, his work, on duelling, . pere la chaise, . pestilence, numbers destroyed by, . philadelphians, saved from being welchmen, . physicians, various schools of, named by pliny, , : --number of the old boston doctors, and their residences, . pipers, at funerals, . pirates, hung on boston common, . pitcairn, major, the honor of killing him, claimed by many:--the remains, under westminster abbey, said to have been erroneously selected, from under the north church, . plague, some account of the, . pliny, in favor of herb doctoring, . planter, funeral of an old, in st. croix, . polhamus, the good samaritan, . pompadour, madame de, her remains transferred to the catacombs, . pontraci, the prince of undertakers, . portland vase, history of the, . pride and poverty, excess of, dangerous, . punishment, various kinds of, . punsters habitual, nuisances, . pwan yakoo, and other chinese, their visit to boston:--description of her golden lilies, . q. quacks of great use to sextons, . quakers, persecution of, in massachusetts, , . r. rand, dr. isaac, brief notice of, . razors, their antiquity:--mentioned by homer, samuel, ezekiel:--how sharpened:--of brass, : --the best formerly from palermo, . recherches, historiques et physiologiques sur la guilotine, . relics, traffic and jugglery in, by the priests, . republics, extravagance fatal to, , . revenge church of christ, . revival, amusing example of, on the way to the grave, : --of a child of henry laurens, which caused him to order his own corpse to be burnt, . rochefoucault, maxim erroneously ascribed to, . roman catholics, persecution of, in massachusetts, . ross, sir john, his residence, in the arctic regions:--discovery of him and his company, . rothschild, nathan meyer, his funeral solemnities, . rum, mainspring of the slave trade in massachusetts, . rush, dr. benjamin, alluded to:--anecdote of, . s. "sacred to the memory"! . santa cruz, gross extortion there, from surviving friends, . sansons, the hereditary executioners of paris, , . sayings, of eminent men, in articulo, or just before death, . scotch weaver's vanity, . selwyn, george, seldom absent from an execution, . seneca, quotation from, . sextons, their office, its origin, and duties, of old:--their extortion, occasionally, in the hour of affliction, --their business much benefited by steam, . science, some curious mistakes of, . shays, his insurrection, . shaving, suggestions concerning, . shelley, the poet, cremation of, . shipwrecks, their number, . slavery, : --in boston, , : --early attempts to abolish, in massachusetts, : --how and when abolished there, : --slave trade, in boston, . slaves, example of their ingenuity, . smith, martin, sexton of king's chapel, his apparition to the sexton of the old school, , , . soldiers, their sufferings, as statesmen, . sons of liberty, some account of the, . southern states, liberality to boston, in , . spartans, their mode of selecting wives, . spider and chambermaid, . spiritual knockings, sometimes resulting in madness, and self-murder, , : --remedy for, . stamp act, resolutions in faneuil hall, . steam, of great benefit to sextons, . sternhold and hopkins, their version of the psalms gave place to that of tate and brady:--motive of sternhold little suspected, . stonecutter, anecdote of a, . style, old and new, some account of, . succession, apostolic, . sumner, governor, funeral of, . sumptuary laws, some account of, . surgeons, the earliest:--limited nature of their functions, : --among the israelites, . suttees, description of, . swans, their musical power fabulous, . sweating sickness, some account of, . swedenborg, his notions of heaven:--of the soul, . t. tallow chandler, retired from business, anecdote of, . tasman's bowl, used for conjuration, in tongataboo, . tea, thrown overboard, . tears, power of shedding at will, . temperance "has done for funerals," . tetotum doctor, . thatcher, rev. peter, installation of, . three cheers for the elephant, . tombs, reasons for preferring graves:--outrage upon five, in salem, massachusetts, , . "too heartily of nutmegs," . tories, their faith in the royal cause, . treasures, buried with the dead, . turenne, singular fate of his remains, . u. urns, funeral, forms, and materials of, : --occasionally large enough to contain the mingled ashes of whole families, . usury, some remarks on, , . v. vales, practice of giving, . vanity, illustration of, . viands, deposited near the dead, . visceration among the ancients, . voltaire, his description of a frenchman, . w. wade, sir claude m. his account of the east india fakeer, who was restored, after a suspension of consciousness, for six weeks, , . wager of battel, the law of england, so late, as , . wakes, their origin:--some account of, . warren, gen. joseph, manner of discovering his remains:--the bullet, by which he was killed, in possession of the montague family, . washington, george, illustration of the reverence for his memory, in new england:--opinion of, by lords erskine and brougham:--national neglect of his monument:--sale of some of his effects, . waterhouse, dr. benjamin, anecdote of, . "weel then sing as mony as there be," . webster, dr. john white, his trial for the murder of dr. parkman, : --his case stated, at the close of, . weever's funeral monuments, . "what that boy says is true," . widows, numa severe upon:--marrying within ten months accounted infamous, : --unjustly censured, : --"with the great fan," . wigs, scratches, bobs, and full bottomed:--their antiquity, , : --periwigs in n. england, : --roman, . wills, ancient, , , : --superstitious dread of making, : --andrew faneuil's, . witches, their right to travel through the air, decided by lord mansfield, . woodbridge, benjamin, killed in a duel on boston common, to : both inclusive. wraxall's memoirs, inaccurate, . z. zisca, john, anecdote of, . index to proper names. the figures refer to the pages--not to the numbers. a. abbeville, . abbott, , . abel, . aberdeen, . abner, , , , , , , . absalom, . achilles, , , , . adam, , , . adams, . adams, john, , , , , , , . adams, john q., , . adams, samuel, . addison, , , , . admetus, . adrian, . Æneas, . Æsculapius, , , , . affslager, . africa, , , , , . africans, . africanus, . agamemnon, , . agathias, . agrigentum, . agmondesham, . agrippa, . agrippa, cornelius, . ahaziah, . alaricus, . albany, , . alcock, . aldgate, . aldgrave, . aleet mong, . alexander, . allen, , , , , , . allwick, . almotanah, . almshouse, . alvanley, . america, , . ames, , , . ammianus, . amphytrion, , . amoon, . amory, . amsterdam, , . anderson, . andover, . andré, to , passim. andrews, , . andros, . anecy, . angouleme, . anio, . annan, . anne boleyn, . annelly, . anne of cleves, , , . anne, queen, , , , , . antijacobin, . antoninus, . antony, . antwerp, . appleton, , , , . apthorp, . arabian nights, . arabs, , . aratus, . archelaus, , . archimimus, . arcueil, , . argiletum, . aristotle, , , . arkwright, . arnaud, . arnold, , , , , . arundel, . asa, , . aselepiades, , , , , . ashford, . ashmole museum, . asiatic researches, . athenæ oxonienses, , , , , , , , , . athens, , , , , , . atherton, , . atossa, . atticus, , . attleborough, . auchterpool, . augustines, , , . augustus, , . auld reekie, . aulus gellius, . austin, . austria, . austrians, . auxerre, . avery, , . aviola, , . avis, . aymar, , , . azotus, . b. bacon, roger, , , . bacon, lord, , , , , , , . babylon, , , , . babylonians, . baiæ, . bahar loth, . bailey, . bainbridge, , . balch, , . baldwin, , , , . ball, . ballyconnel, . ballymahon, . ballyshannon, . balmarino, . bancroft, . banians, . banks, , . barataria, , . barbaroux, . barbary, . barbut, . barcephas, . barclay, . barker, . barlow, , . barnes, . barnard, . barra durree, . barré, , , . barrington, . barron, , . barrow, , , , . barrow's strait, . barton, , , . bartholomew, . bartholomew's eve, . bassorah, . bastile, . bate, . battenkill, . baulny, . baulston, . baxter, . bayard, . bayeaux, . bayle, , , , , , , , . bayley, . baynton, , . bay state, . beattie, . beauchamp, , , . beaufort, , , . beccaria, . beckford, . bedouin, . beecher, . belcher, . belfast, . belknap, to , and to , passim: . bellamont, . bellingham, , , . belochus, . belzoni, . bengal, . benin, . bennington, . bentham, , , , . benton, . bergen-op-zoom, , . berlin, . bernon, , . berthier, . bertrand, . bethune, , , , , . beuoron, . bias, , . bichat, . bildad, . billes, . biographia brittanica, . bishop, , . blackburn, , . black prince, . blackstone, . blackwood's mag., . blaisdell, , . blanche, . blin, . blitheman, . blitz, . blundell, . boccacio, , . bodkin, , , , , . bogle, . boies, . bolton abbey, . bondet, . bonet, . bonner, , , . bonrepaux, , , . boodle, , , . boorn, to , passim. borri, . borromeo, . bose, , . bosius, . bosphorus, . bosson, . bossuet, . boston, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . boston athen'm, , . boston common, . boswell, , , , . bottom, , . boudinot, . bourbon, , . bourbon, jeanne of, . bourdeaux, . boutineau, , , , , , , . bouttville, . bowdoin, , , , , . bowen, . bowers, . boyd, , . boyle, , , . brachmans, . brackett, . braddock, . bradford, , , . brady, , , . brague, . brand, , . brandreth, . brandywine, . branodunum, . bray, , . braybrooke, . breck, , . breckenridge, . breed, . briareus, , . briar's creek, . briggs, . brighton, , , . bristol, . british critic, . britons, . brocklebank, . brockwell, . bromeholme, . bromfield, , . brooks, , , , , . brougham, , . brouillan, . brown, . browne, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . bruce, , , . bruli, . buchanan, , , , . buckingham, . buckley, . buddikin, . buffon, . buissiere, . bulfinch, . bull, , , , . bullivant, . bulwer, . bungs, . bunker's hill, , , . buononcini, . burdett, . bureau, , . burgoyne, , . burgundy, . burke, , , . burleigh, , . burnett, , , , , . burney, . burr, , . burritt, . burton, , . busching, . bute, , . butler, , , , , . byles, , also to , passim: also . c. cades, . cæsar, augustus, , , , , . cæsar, julius, , , , . cæsars, the twelve, . cæsar, the slave, . caffraria, . cain, , , , . cairo, . caius, , . calabria, . calais, . calhoun, . calcraft, . california, . calinglond, . callender, . calmet, , , , , , . callowhill, . calvin, , . calypso, . cambridge, . camden, , , , . camerarius, . cameron, . camillus papers, . campbell, . caner, to , passim. canning, . canso, . canterbury, , , . cape anne, . capet, , , . capulets, . cardigan, . caribs, . carisbroke castle, , . carmelites, , . carne, , . carroll, . carter, . carthago, . carthusians, . cartwright, . cass, , . cassieres, . castalio, . castellan, . castelnau, . castlereagh, . catanea, . catholics, . catlin, . cato, , , , , . catti, . caulfield, . cavan, . cecil, . cecrops, . celsus, , . cemetery des innocens, , , . cephrenes, . chace, to , passim. chadsey, . chadwick, , , , , , , . chaise, père la, . chaldeans, . chalmers, , , , , , , , , , . chamberlain, , . chamouni, . chantilly, , . chapel yard, . chapotin, . chappelle, . chardon, , , , . charles, archduke, . charles i., , , , , , , , , , , . charles ii., , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . charles v., , , , , . charles ix., . charles xii., . charleston, , . charlestown, . charlemagne, , . charlotte, queen, . charlton, . charon, . charpentiere, . chartreuse, . chateaubriand, , , , . chatham, , . chaumette, . chauncey, , . chazlett, . checkley, . cheever, . chelesfield, . chenoo, . cheops, . chesapeake, , . chester, , , . chesterfield, . chevy chace, . cheverus, , . cheyne, . chicago, . chigwell, . childe, . chilperic, , . china, , , , , , , . chinese, , . chiron, . chitty, . christ church, . christian observer, . christianstadt, . christina, . christmas, , . christopherson, . chronicles, , . chrysippus, , . chrysostom, . chuang-tsze, to , passim. cicero, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . cimon, . circe, . claflin, . clarendon, , , , . clarissa, . clare, , . clarke, , , , , , . clarkson, to , pas. claudius, , . claudius pulcher, . clemens alexandrinus, . clement, , . cleomenes, , . clerimont, . clifford, , , . clinton, , . clytemnestra, . cobbett, , . cobham, , . coke, . colclough, . colebrooke, . colman, , . columbus, . colvin, to , passim. commodus, . concord, . condé, . condy, . coneyball, . confucius, . congo, . conrad, , . constantinople, , , , . constantius, . conway, , , . cook, , . cooley, . coolidge, . cooper, , . copeland, . copley, , . corday, , , . cornish, , . cornwall, , . "corpse hill," . corry, . cortez, . cossart, . cotton, , . courland, . courrier extraordinaire, . courtnay, . coventry, . cow lane, . cowley, . cowper, , . cox, . cranmer, . crawford, . creech, . crequi, . crespigney, . creusa, . crinas, . cripplegate, . crocker, . crockett, . croese, , , , . crofts, . cromartic, . cromwell, , , , . cromwell's head, . crosby, . croyland abbey, . cruikshanks, . cullender, , . cunningham, . curran, . curwen, , . cushing, . cutbeard, . cuthbert, , . cutler, , , , , , . cutter, . cyclops, . cyrus, . d. daddy osgood, . dagobert, . daillé, , , , . damberger, . dammory, . dana, , , , , . danes, . danforth, . darden, . davenport, , , , , , , , , . david, , , , , , . davis, , , , , . dead sea, , , , , . d'acres, . d'arblay, . de blois, , . de burgh, . decatur, , , , . dedication, . defoe, . de grandison, . de henricourt, . dehon, . de hoveden, . de la croix, . delancey, . delaware, . delia, . demades, . demarat, , . de medicis, . demetrius, . deming, , , . democritus, . demosthenes, . dentrecolles, . denmark, , , , . de pauw, , . deptford, . de ris, . desdemona, . deshon, . despencer, . de thou, . dettingen, . de uzerches, . de valence, . de vassor, . de verdon, . devergie, . devereux, . devon, . de warre, . de worde, . dexter, , . didian law, . dido, . dickens, . dickson, . diemerbroeck, . diemschid, . digby, , , . diodorus, , . diogenes, , , , . diogenes laertius, . dionysius, , , . dirk hatteraick, . dodsley's annual register, . domitian, , , . don quixote, . doolittle, . dorchester neck, . dorchester point, . doring, . dorsett, , , , . douglas, , . dover, . doyle, . dowse, . draco, , , , . draper, . drury, . druses, , . dryden, , , , . du barri, . dublin, , . dubois, . ducange, . dudley, , , . duff, , . dugdale, , , . du halde, . dulany, . dummer, , , , . dumont, . dundee, . dunciad, . dunmow, . duny, , , . duport, . durandus, . dutch, . dyer, . e. earle, . easter eve, . eastman, , . easton, . eatooa, . ecclesiastes, , . ecclesiasticus, . echeloot indians, . eckley, . eden, . edes, . edessa, . edgeworth, . edinburgh, , . edinburgh review, , , . edmund i., . edmund plantagenet, . edom, . edward, i., , , , . edward iii., , , . edward iv., , , . edward, the confessor, . egypt, , , , , , . egyptians, , , , , , , , , , , , , . ekron, . elah, . eldon, , , . el dorado, , . eli, , . eliot, , , , . elliot, . eliphaz, . elizabeth, , , , , , . elizabeth island, . embomma, , . empedocles, . encyclopædia britannica, . endor, , , , , . england, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . english canaan, . english mark, . enoch, . epicurus, . erasistratus, , . erasmus, . erfurth, . erpingham, . erricus, . erskine, . erving, . estwell, . espinasse, . ethiopia, . europe, , , , , . eurypus, . eusebius, . eustis, . eutaw springs, . evans, . eve, . evelyn, . everett, , , . ewins, . exeter, , , , , . ezekiel, , , . f. fabius maximus, . fabrieii bibliographia antiquaria, . fagan, . fairbanks, , , . fakeer, , , , . fales, , . falmouth, . falstaff, . faneuil, :-- to , passim. faneuil hall, , , , , . fanhope, . farmer, . farnham, . farnsworth, , , . farquhar, . farraday, . farrar, . farrago, , . fasti, . faulconbridge, . favor, . feild, . fenelon, . fenner, . ferrari, . fielding, . fillebrown, . fire island, . fish, , , . flaccus, , . flanders, . florence, , . fleet, . fleet prison, . fleet street, . fleta, . flagg, . flaherty, . flechier, . flucker, . folsom, . fontenelle, . fonnereau, . foote, , . ford, , , . fordyce, . forresters, . forest hills, , . forster, . fosbroke, . fothergill, . fox, , , , . foxcroft, . france, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . francis i., , , , . francis, , . frankfort, . franklin, , , , , , , , , . franks, . freand, . frederick i., . freedly, . freeman, . french church, . frescati, . frizzell, . frizzles, . fuller, , , . fullerton, . g. gabriel, , . galen, . galilee, . gannett, , . gardner, , . garth, . gates, , . gath, . gato, . gaul, , , . gaule, . gauls, . gaunt, , , . gavett, . gawler, . gellia, . genesis, , . genethliaci, . genevieve, , . genoa, . gentleman's magazine, , . george i., , , . george ii., , , , , . george iii., , , , , , , , . george iv., , . gerard, . germanicus, . germans, . germantown, . germany, , , . gervais, , . ghizeh, . gibraltar, . gideon, . gill, . gillies, . gilpin, . girondists, , . glossin, . gloucester, , , , . goethe, . golgotha, . goliath, , , , . gold, . goldsmith, , , , , , , . gomorrah, , , . good, . goode, , , . gooseberry, . gordon, , , , , . gore, . gorton, . gosnold, . goss, . gould, . gracchus, . grady, . grammont, . granger, . granary, , , , , , , , . grant, , . grattan, . gratz, . graunt, . gray, , , , , . great britain, , , , , , , , . great tom, . greece, , , , , , , . greeks, , , , , . green, . greene, , , . greenlanders, . greenleaf, , , . green mount, . greenwood, , , . gregory, pope, . grey, . grey friars, . greville, . gridley, . griswold, , . grossman, , , , , , , , , , , . grotius, . grouchy, . grozier, . grubb, . guardian, . guerriere, . guiana, . guideu, . guienne, . guilford, . guillotin, , . guillotine, , , . guinneau, . gundebald, , . gussanville, . gustavus adolphus, . h. hades, . hague, . hakin, . hale, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . halford, , , , . halifax, , , , . hall, . hallam, . haller, . halley, . hamilton, , , , . hammond, . hancock, , , , , , , . handel, , , . handy, . hanan, . hannibal, . hanover square, . hanway, . harleian miscellany, , , . harper, . harris, . harrison, , , . hart, , . hartop, . harvey, , . haslett, . hatch, , , . haute, . hawes, . hawkins, . hawles, . hawtrey, . haydn, , , , , . hayes, . hayley, . haynes, , , , , , , . hayward, , , . hazael, . hazzard, , . heath, , , . heber, . hebrews, , . hebrides, . hector, . heemskerck, . helen, . henault, . henderson, . henry ii., , . henry iii., , , . henry iv., , , , , , , . henry vi., , . henry vii., , , , . henry viii., , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . henry, , . hephestion, . herbert, , , , . hercules, . hereford, , , . herlicius, , , . hermes, . herne, . herod, . herodotus, , , . heron, . herophylus, , . herr driesbach, . herschell, , . hertford, , . highgate, . hildanus, , . hill, , , , , , , . hiller, . hindoos, , . hindostan, , . hippocrates, , , . hirst, . hobart, , . hobkirk's hill, . hoboken, , . hodgson, . hodson, . hog alley, . hogarth, . holborn, . holbrook, . holden, , . holinshed, , . holland, , , , . holme, . holmes, , , . holy land, , . homans, . homer, , , , , , , . hone, . hook, , . hooper, , . hopkins, , , . horace, , , , , , , , , , , , . horatio, , . horne, . horstius, . hossack, . hottentots, . hough, , . houndsditch, . howe, , . hubbard, . hudibras, , , , . huger, . huguenots, to , passim: also, , , , , . hull, , , . hume, , . humphreys, , . hungary, . hungerford, . hunt, . huntington, . hutchinson, , , , , , , , , . hydriotaphia, , , , . hydrophobia, . hyperion, . i. idumea, . inman, . innocent iii., . ireland, , . irenæus, . ireton, . irish, . irving, . isabella, . israel, . israelites, . isis, . islip, . istampol, . j. jabbok, . jackson, , , . jacobs, . jahn, , , , , . jamaica pond, . james i., , , . james ii., , , , , . jardin des plantes, . jasper, . jay, . jefferson, , , , . jeffrey, . jeffreys, . jeffries, , , , . jekyll, , . jenkins, . jenks, , . jenyns, . jepson, . jeremiah, . jerusalem, . jesse, , , . jew, . jews, , , , , , . job, , , . jonathan, , , , . jones, , , , , , , , , . johnson samuel, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . johnson, , , , . johonnot, . jonny armstrong, . jonson ben, , , . jordan, , . joseph, , . josephus, , . josselyn, . judah, . judæus apella, . judd, . judea, , , , . judicial astrology, , . judson, . julia, . junius, , . juno, . juvenal, , . k. kaimes, . kamschatka, . kast, . katherine of arragon, . keatinge, . keayne, . keith, . kensall green, . kent, . kerr, . kidd, . kidder, . kilby, . kilmarnock, , . king, . kings, . king's chapel, , , , , , . kingsmill, . kingstreet, . kingstown, . kircherus, . kirchmaun, . kirriel, . kishon, . kitchen, , . kittal-al-machaid, . knox, . koran, . l. lacedemonians, , , . la cheze, . lacombe, . lafayette, , , . lahore, . lally, . lamartine, . lambert, . lamia, , . lancashire, . lancaster, . landgrave of hesse, . landseer, . lane, . langdon, , . langstaff, . lansdowne, . laou-keun, . larassy, . lares, . larkin, larrey, . larvæ, . lathrop, . latimer, , , . laurel hill, . laurens, , . lavater, . lavinia, . lazarus, . leadenhall market, , . le cat, . lechemere, . lectouse, . ledea, . lee, , . l'etombe, . le gros, . leibnitz, . leicestershire, , . le mercier, , , , , , . lemures, . lenoie, . lenox, . leopard, . lepidus, . leuconoe, . levi, . leviticus, . lewis, . lewyn, . lexington, . liancourt, . libo, . licinius, . lilly, , , . lincoln, , , . lincoln's inn, . lind, . lindsey, , . linnæus, . linnington, . lippstadt, . lithered, . little belt, . liverpool, . livingston, . livy, , , , . lizard, . lloyd, , , , , . lloyd's lists, . locke, . locrian law, . loe, , . lollards, . lombards, . london, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . london quarterly review, , , , , , , . london times, . long, . long branch, . long island, . longshanks, , . longspee, . lot's wife, , , , , . loudon, , . louis, . louis xi., . louis xii., . louis xiii., , , . louis xiv., , , , , , , , . louis xv., , . louis xvi., , , . louison, , . lovat, . lovell, :-- to , passim. lowell, . lucan, . lucilius, , , , , . ludlow, . lum akum, . luther, . lutton, , . lutzengen, . lycurgus, . lyman, , . lynn, . lyon, . lyons, . m. mabillon, . macabe, . mcandrew, . macartney, , . macaulay, to , passim:--also . mcdonough, . mcgammon, . mcgill, . machaon, . machiavelli, , , , . machyl, . mckeon, . mackenzie, , , , . mackintosh, , . mclean, . mcnamara, . mcnaughten, . machpelah, . mæcenas, , . mag-astro-mancer, . magdalen college, , , . magdalene, . magee, . magnalia, . mahomet, . mahoney, . maillard, . mailosel, . maintenon, , . majoribanks, . mahnsbury, . malone, . malplesant, . malta, , . maltravers, . mammon, . mamre, . manchester, to , passim. mandans, , . mandeville, , , , . manlius, , , , . manes, . manigault, . mann, , . mannering, . manney, . mansfield, , , , . mantua, . marat, . marbeuf, . marc antony, . marcellinus, . march, , , . marco polo, . marcus antoninus, . mareschall, . maret, . mariner, . marion, . mariti, . marius, . marseillais, , . marseilles, . marshall, , , . martel, . martial, , , , , . martin, . martinico, . martinique, . mary, bloody, , , , . maryland, , . mashee, . mason, , . massachusetts, , , , , , , , , , , , , . mather, , , , , , , , . matthews, , , . matooara, . maury, . maverick, . maximilian ii., , . maynard, . mazarin, . mazzei, . mead, . mears, , . meaux, . mediterranean, . megret, . melancthon, . melli melli, . mena, , , , . menalcas, . menander, . menu, . merrick, . merrill, to , passim. mewins, . mexico, , . michaelis, . midsummer night's dream, . milan, , . mildmay, . miletum, . milford haven, . millar, . millenarians, . millengen, , . millens, . miller, . millot, . mills, . miltiades, . milton, , , , . minzies, . minoresses, . minors, . minshull, . mirepoix, . mirfield, . misson, . missouri, . mitford, . moab, . mock, . mohawk indian, . mohun, , . momus, . monmouth, . montacute, . montaigne, , , , . montague, . montefiore, . monte notte, . montesquieu, . montezuma, , . montmorenci, . moody, , , . moore, . moorhead, , , , , , . moors, . moravians, . more, , . morin, , . morland, to , passim. morose, . morris, , , . mortimer, , . morton, , . moses, , . mount auburn, , , , . mounts bay, . mount hope, . moyle, . mudge, . mullowny, . mun chung, . murphy, , , , . murray, . murullus, . muses, . muskerry, . mussenden, . mydas, . mysore, . mytelene, . n. naaman, . nain, . nantasket, . nantes, . nantucket, . naples, , . napoleon, , , . narcissa, . nares, , , . narragansett bay, , . naseby, , . natchez, . nau, . negoose, , , , . nemours, . new, . newcastle, . new england, , , , , , , . newgate, , , , , . new london, . new north church, , . new orleans, . new rochelle, , . newton, . new york, . new york evening post, , . new zealand, , . nicholls, , , . nicolas, . ninkempaup, . niobe, . nipmug, . noah, . noailles, , . noble, . noddle's island, . nollekens, . norfolk, . norman, . normandy, , . norris, . north american review, . norway, , . norwich, . notre dame, . nova scotia, . noyes, . numa, , , . numbers, . nunhead, . o. oak hall, . o'brien, . o'connell, . odyssey, . ogilvie, . oglethorpe, , , . ogygia, . olam fodla, . old brick, , , , . oldmixon, . oliver, , , , , . omnibus, , . oporto, . orde, . orfila, . origen, . orinoco, . orleans, . orrery, . osborne, . osiris, . o'shane, . ossa, . ossoli, . otis, harrison gray, . otis, james, , . ottomans, , . outhier, . ovid, , , , , , , , , . oxford, , , , , , , , , , , , . oxnard, . p. packinett, . page, . paine, . palestine, , , , . palermo, . palinurus, . pallas, . palmer, , , . pantagathus, . parant duchatelet, . paré, . pareicus, . parian marbles, . paris, , , , , , , , , , , . parker, , . parkman, to , passim:--also , , . parr, . parsees, . parsons, , . passy, . patchogue, . patroclus, , , . pauketpeeker, . paulding, . paul, . paull, . pausanias, . pavice, . paxton, . paybody, . peake, . pearson, , . peck, . pecker, . peel, , . pekin, . pelion, . pelletier, . pemberton, , , . pembroke, , , , . penn, to passim:--also . pennant, . pennsylvania, . pendleton, . pepin, . pepperell, . pepusch, . pepys, , , . percival, , . percy, . perry, , , . persepolis, . persia, . persians, . persius, . peters, . petre, . petronel, , . pew, . peyret, . pharamond, . pharsalia, . phelps, . philadelphia, , , , , . philip augustus, . philip the bold, . philippus, . phillips, , , , , , , :--also to passim:--also . philistines, , , . philomela, . picardy, . pickering, , , . pickett, . pickworth, . pierce, . pierre de nemours, . pierson, . pigot, . pinchbeke, . pinckney, . pindar, . pineau, . pinohe, . pitcairn, , . pitcher, , . pitt, , , . pittacus, . place de grève, , , . place de la revolution, . place st. antoine, . plaine de mont louis, . plaisant, . plaistowe, . plato, , , , , . plautus, , . pleydell, . plimouth, , . pliny, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . plutarch, , , , , . pococke, , . podalirius, . poeon, . poictiers, . poictou, . polack, . pole, . polhamus, , , . pollard, . pompadour, , . pompey, , , . ponthia, . pontraçi, , , , . popayan, . pope, , , , , . popple, . porchalion, . portland, , . port mahon, . potter, . powell, . pratt, , . pretender, . prevot, . priam, . price, , . priest, . primrose, . prince of orange, . pringle, . prioleau, . prior, , . pritchard, . proctor, . prudhomme, . psamatticus, . pseudodoxia, , . puddifant, , . pudding lane, . purchase street, . puzzlepot, . pwan yekoo, . pyramus, . pythagoras, . q. quakers, . quincy, , , , , . quintilius varus, . quintus, . r. rachel, . radziville, . rand, , . randall, . randolph, , . ranelagh, . rapin, , , , , , , . rauber, , . ravaillac, . ravenscroft, . raymond, , , , . read, . reason, . receuil periodique, . reese, . regent's inlet, . religio medici, . remus, . reuben, . revallion, . richard ii., , , . richardson, . richelieu, . richmond, , , . ridley, , . riley, . rivet, . robertson, , , , , . robespierre, . robinson, , , , . robin hood, . rochelle, , , , . rochester, , , , , , . rochefoucault, , , . rockingham, . rockport, . roebuck, . roederer, , . rogers, , . rogerson, . roma, . roman, , . romans, , , , , , , , , , . roman catholics, . rome, , , , , , , , , , . romilly, , . romulus, , , , . rosamond, . roscius, . rose cullender, . rose in bloom, . ross, , , , . rothschild, , . rous, . rouse, . rousseau, . rowlett, . roxbury, , , , . royal society, , . rue d'enfer, , . rufus, . runjeet singh, , , , . russell, . rush, . rushworth, . russia, . russians, , . ruthven, . rutland herald, , . rymer's foedera, , . s. st. andrew, . st. anne, . st. augustine, . st. clara, . st. christophers, . st. croix, , , , . st. denis, , . st. edmunds bury, . st. james, . st. katherine, . st. luke, . st. margaret, , . st. martins, . st. mary, , . st. matthew, . st. michael, , . st. omers, , . st. paul, . st. paul's, , , . st. peter, . st. pierre, . st. richard, . st. saba, . st. saturnin, . st. thomas, , , . sabine, . saburra, . sackville, , , , . salem, . salewarp, . salisbury, , , , , . sallust, . salmon, . salter, . saltonstall, . samee, . samson, . samuel, , , , , , , . samuels, . sancho panza, , . sanderson, . sanson, , , , , . sardinia, . sargent, , . sarsaparilla, . sarum, . saul, , , , , , . saulien, . saunders, . sauvages, . savage, . savoy, . scaliger, . scharsegin, , . schmidt, . schridieder, . scipio africanus, , . scott, , , , , , , , , . scrope, . scutari, . segor, . seignelay, . seltridge, . selkirk, . selwyn, , , , , . seneca, , , , , , , . senisino, . serampore, . sergius orator, . servius, , . sevrès, . sewall, , , , , , , , . seymour, , , . shades, . shakspeare, , , , . shandois, , . sharp, . shattuck, , , . shaw, , , . shays, . shea, . sheerness, , . shelburne, . shelden, . sheldon, , . shelson, . sheridan, . shirley, , , . shochoh, . shouldham, . shrewsbury, . shute, . shylock, . siberia, . sicily, , . sicilies, the two, . siddim, . sidney, . sigal, . sigourney, , . simmons, . skinner, , . smallpiece, . smith, sidney, . smith, , , , , , , , , . smink, . smollett, , . snow, . socrates, . sodom, , , , , , . sodoma, . solomon, . solon, . somersett, . somnium scipionis, . soo chune, . soong, . sophia charlotte, . sorbiere, , . sosigenes, . southampton, . southwick, . spain, , , . spaniards, . sparks, , . speed, , , . spelman, . spitalfields, , . spooner, . spring, . springett, . sprott, . stafford, . stair, . stanford, . stanhope, . starkie, . staunford, . steele, . stephanus, . stephens, , , , , . sterne, . sternhold, , , . steuben, . stevens, . stevenson, . stewart, . stillman, . stirling castle, . stirrington, . stockholm, . stone chapel, . story, . stow, , , , , . stowell, . strabo, . streatfield, . strype, , , , , , , , , , , , , . stuart, , , . stuarts, . stubbe, . sue, , . suetonius, , , , , , , . suffolk, . sully, , . sulmo, . sumner, , . sunderland, , . surinam, . sweden, . swedenborg, , . swedes, . swift, , , , . swingford, . switzerland, . sykes, . sylla, , . sylvester, . syracuse, . syrens, . syria, , . syrians, . t. tacitus, , , . taheite, , . tailor, . tappan, , . tarpeian rock, . tasman, . tate, , . taylor, , , , , , , , , , . taunton, . tees, . templeman, . terence, . tertullian, . testamenta vetusta, , . tewksbury, , . thacher, , , , , , , . thebes, , . theodolphus, . theodosius, . theophrastus, . thessalus, . thessaly, . thevet, . thiermeyer, . thomas, , . thomas of canterbury, . thompson, . thornton, , . thurlow, . tiberius, . tibullus, , . tierney, . tilbury, . tillotson, , , , , . timoleon, . tinville, . tonga islands, . tongataboo, . tonstrina, . tortugas, . touchet, . tournay, . tower hill, , . townshend, . trajan, . trenchard, . trent, . tresham, . treviso, . troughton, . troutbeck, . troy, , . trunnion, . truro, . tanfugge, . tubero, . tuck, , . tuckett, . tuckey, , . tudor, . tunbrugge, . turkey, . turkish empire, . turks, . turenne, , . turner, , , , , . twiss, . tyburn, , . tyler, . u. ucalegon, . ula-deguisi, . ulysses, , , . united states, , , , . usher, . uxbridge, . v. val de grace, . valentia, . valerius maximus, . vallemont, . valois, . valvasor, . van buren, , , . van butchell, , . vandyke, . van gelder, . van pronk, . vans, . van wart, . varden, . vardy, . varro, . vassal, . vaughan, . velleius paterculus, . vere, . verney, . vermont, . veronica, . verulam, . vespasian, , , . vesuvius, . vexius valens, . victoria, . victory, . vieq d'azyr, . vienna, . villars, . vincent, , , . virgil, , , , , , . virginia, , . volney, , , . voltaire, , . w. wade, , , , . wakefield, , . waldo, , . walpole, , , , . waltham, . walsingham, , , , , . ward, , , , , . ward's curwen, . warre, , . warren, , , , , , . warwick, . washington, , , , . waterhouse, . waterloo, . watts, , . webb, , , . webster, , , , , , , . wedgewood, . weever, , . wellesley, . wellington, . wells, . welsh, . wendell, . wentworth, . westminster, , . westminster abbey, , , , , . weston, . westwood, . wharton, . whelpley, . whipple, , . whiston, . white, . whitehall, . whitehead, , , . whitehurst, . white plains, , . wiche, . wigmore, . wilkes, , . willard, , . william the conqueror, . william and mary, . william iii., , , , . william iv., , , . williams, , , , , . williamson, . willis, , . wilts, . wiltshire, . winchelsea, . winchester, , , . windsor, , , . winkle, . winslow, , , , . winterbottom, . winthrop, , . wisigoths, . wisket, . wode, . wolton, . wood, , , , , , , , , , . woodbridge, to , passim. woodcock, . woods, . worcester, , , . woronzow, . wraxall, , . wyatt, . y. yale, . york, . york, duke of, , . yorktown, . younge, . z. zaire, . zeleucus, . zeno, . zeres, . zimmerman, . zion, . zisca, . zoar, . zophar, . footnotes: [ ] hist, of charles v., vol. v. page , oxford ed. . [ ] lond. quart. rev., vol. lxxvi. page . [ ] nearly opposite the residence of dr. lemuel hayward, deceased, where hayward place now is. [ ] woodbridge, i suppose, belonged to some military company, whose arms and accoutrements were probably kept at the white horse tavern, under the charge of robert handy. [ ] _hog alley._ see bonner's plan, of . [ ] afterwards richard ii. [ ] his natural son. [ ] john of gaunt. [ ] an english mark was two-thirds of a pound sterling, or s. d. [ ] a church book. [ ] breviary. [ ] a button of gold. [ ] a button. [ ] round funeral tapers. [ ] margaret plantagenet, grand-daughter of king edward i. [ ] the badge of the house of lancaster. [ ] richard ii. [ ] a culverin. [ ] dugdale says these were jewels, hanging over the forehead, on bodkins, thrust through the hair. [ ] pale or peach-colored rubies. [ ] this effigy is referred to by walpole, in his anecdotes of painting, vol. i. p. . transcriber's notes: passages in italics are indicated by _italics_. the original text includes greek characters. for this text version these letters have been replaced with transliterations. no. cxix. ends with the phrase "the symptoms" as is printed in the original text. _for sale by_ eagle clothing company, no. north main street, concord, n. h. [illustration: prof dr. pettenkofer _director of hygienic institute, munich._] jaros hygienic wear the therapeutic and prophylactic application. by i. jaros. with illustrations. new york. jaros hygienic underwear co., east th street. copyrighted by the jaros hygienic underwear co. . fourth edition. to the learned gentlemen of the medical profession. the comments herein given on the value of the "jaros hygienic underwear" are acknowledgments on the practical accomplishment of scientific theories. prof. mattieu williams remarks: "they present an interesting instance of how a logical effort to apply pure science to practical business may react in such a manner, that practical business shall become a beneficent contributor to pure science." i tender thanks for the kind expressions herein embodied, all of which are given with due regard for the ethics of the profession. yours, i. jaros new york, . contents introductory section hygienic clothing philosophy of clothing hygienic underwear testimonials professors von pettenkofer, parkes, and buck, pronounced hygienists, have contributed largely to establishing theories regarding clothing materials and their relations to health. these conclusions have led to a more general consideration thereof, in the therapeutics, as well as prophylaxis in medical practice. wool is regarded as deserving first consideration. [illustration: magnified--wool fibre.] the fibres are cylindrical collections of numerous cells, and present each the appearance of a tube covered with epidermic scales which overlap each other. the zigzag markings are characteristic. cotton, for various reasons, may be regarded as next in importance, providing consideration be given to the manner of application, in combination with wool. this is fully verified by krieger's experiments. [illustration: magnified--cotton fibre.] [illustration: section same--cotton fibre.] the fibres of cotton appear to be made up of flat, ribbon-shaped cells, thicker at the edges than in the middle. they are irregularly twisted, with a broad longitudinal cavity more or less well defined. there is frequently a kind of net-work striation apparent on the surface. with regard to the comparative value of these fibres in application we refer here to the tables of mattieu williams, page of this treatise. it remains, therefore, to have a material of these fibres so constructed that it will embody all scientific essentials. the first satisfactory material of the "jaros hygienic wear" was laid before the medical profession in chicago, november, , and, guided by their suggestions, the "wool fleece fabric" was so materially improved that, on january , , l. l. mcarthur, m.d., in a paper before the chicago medical society, states: "now, gentlemen, this device was a particularly 'happy one,' in that all the requirements of a truly hygienic wear are provided--porosity, warmth, absorbent powers and elasticity." [illustration: jaros hygienic material--magnified.] it will be seen that the material is a fleecy wool surface knitted into a cotton framework--resembling in many essential points a natural sheep's pelt. a prominent factor regarded in the claim for a reproduction of the natural pelt, is the preservation of the yolk which, if left in the wool, preserves its pliancy. it forms a kind of natural soap, consisting principally of potash salts with animal oil almost entirely soluble in cold water. special care must therefore be taken in washing the wool, and this has been one of the latest results added to the success of the "jaros hygienic material." the features warranting precaution in scouring wool, and advised by scientists, are based on the following possibilities: excess of alkali has to be guarded against, since uncombined caustic acts energetically on the wool fibre, and is indeed a solvent of it. on this account soap solutions cannot be too carefully prepared to prevent making the wool brittle. "a material of loose texture confining much air in its interstices is warmer than same amount of clothing material closely woven. wool or cotton carded and spread out in the shape of a wadding and held, will make a warmer garment than the same quantity spun and woven, and similarly covered. this applies with force to underclothing."--"ziemsen," vol. xviii. prophylaxis.--in the consideration of a prophylactic measure this underwear accomplishes the desideratum for protection. l. d. rogers, a.m., m.d., in a paper, states: a fabric, therefore, so constructed as to allow a layer of woolen fibre to lie between the skin and a layer of cotton fibre, and sufficiently open and loose as to contain the largest possible amount of air is the ideal. _the jaros hygienic underwear material, a new fabric, seems beautifully adapted to this end. a layer of woolen fibres, soft and fleecy, is firmly held on one side of and in the meshes of an exceeding porous cotton fabric, so that while one extremity of a fibre lies against the skin, the other is in contact with the cotton; thus admitting of the rapid transference of all dampness of perspiration to the cotton where it is retained, and consequently leaving no moisture next to the skin to absorb and diminish the heat of the body. the importance of this subject, and the possibilities of this new fabric for the prevention of colds, and their resultant diseases, can only be appreciated when we remember the simple fact that it is impossible to take a cold so long as a healthy condition of the skin, and an even temperature of the surface of the body, are maintained_. report of c. b. holmes, president chicago city railway company. ""the jaros hygienic underwear" has been in use with conductors and gripmen of this company since november, , having been recommended by the company's surgeon, dr. d. a. k. steele. we speak for the men in asserting that this underwear is considered the best possible protection against cold and changeable temperatures, which are especially characteristic of this latitude, and its use has resulted in great protection of health and a corresponding increased efficiency. with conductors, whose occupation necessarily prevents the wearing of a very heavy overcoat, it is of great advantage, and gripmen and drivers are enabled to thoroughly protect themselves in their exposed positions without an overplus of clothing, otherwise necessary." these citations might be continued at great length, covering reports of police and fire departments in our large cities, and from many railway corporations and physicians. therapeutics.--in the therapeutics of medicine the underwear is regarded as specially indicated in rheumatism, kidney disease (bright's), and pulmonary consumption. * * * * * rheumatism. j. nevins hyde, a. m., m. d., gives expression as follows: "i have often employed the "jaros hygienic underwear" in cases of muscular and other forms of rheumatism, and always with advantage to the patient. i have had knowledge of these undergarments sufficiently long to justify me in stating very positively that i regard them as a valuable means of protecting the surface of the body from the climatic changes to which it is much exposed." * * * * * david warman, m. d. "one of my patients wearing the "jaros hygienic underwear" is a sufferer from muscular rheumatism, and since he donned the garments he has not had an attack, although the weather has just been of the kind to produce the disease." kidney disease. bright's disease and allied affections of the kidneys. by charles w. purdy, m.d., prof. of genito-urinary and renal diseases in the chicago polyclinic. chapter --albuminuria.--pages - . "the skin.--* * * the most thorough protection to the skin is secured by the use of the jaros hygienic wear, especially during the cold and damp season. * * * it will be seen that the cotton fabric secures a comparatively static condition of air next the skin, while the fleece wool combines the minimum radiation of heat from the body with the greatest attainable hydroscopic power, thus securing uniform dryness and warmth of the skin under various conditions of atmosphere. dr. l. l. mcarthur has demonstrated before the chicago medical society the superiority of the jaros wear over all other fabrics for the purpose of protecting the skin against rapid changes of temperature and humidity, and my own experience with it altogether bears out his deduction." * * * * * dr. i. n. danforth, in january, , states: "i am much impressed with the value of the "jaros hygienic wear," especially in renal and other diseases in which sudden changes of body temperature are hazardous. i think it will prove a valuable addition to our means of treating chronic, renal and other diseases in which full protection of the skin is all important." pulmonary consumption. j. w. price, m. d. address before elmira academy of medicine, july, . _curability and treatment of pulmonary consumption._ "the dress of the consumptive patient should be adapted to equalize the temperature of the body, so loose that it interferes in no way with the natural functions. the underclothing should be woolen, either lamb's wool or flannel. after an extended observation of the benefits derived from wearing the "jaros hygienic underclothing,"--a wool fleece knit material of graded weights, adapted to the season, i believe it to be the best protective device yet known for these patients. "they are excellent non-conductors of changes of the temperature, and at the same time absorb cutaneous moisture--two most important qualities." added to these statements are many more in this treatise. [illustration: women's combination suit.] properly _fitting garments_ are advised, and as an illustration of the results achieved, exact reproductions from life are given. the manner and style adopted, is in keeping with all other features accomplished. the matter of detail has been sufficiently thorough to embody also the point of seaming. _seam._ a special seam is used to overcome objections which caused discomfort and irritation. this seam is flat, soft, and lends to the garments the appearance of seamless wear, to which is added the perfect fit only reached in cut and sewed underwear. [illustration: men's suit.] _conclusion._ in the summary of the results of practice with the "jaros hygienic underwear" by u.s. army posts, u. s. navy pay inspector's department, police and fire departments, railway companies, etc., etc., all scientific recommendations find verification. continuing the work of research and experiment, the aim is to aid the profession in gaining the results desired with an ideal in clothing material. caution.--the success of the "jaros hygienic wear," and the recognition earned, has prescribed utmost care in properly stamping the wear to protect the profession against possible misrepresentations. below is trade-mark. [illustration: jaros hygienic wear.] "registered pat. nos. , ." hygienic clothing. by l. l. mcarthur, m. d. treasurer medico-legal society, chicago: attending physician michael riess and mercy hospitals, chicago. [abstract of a paper read before the chicago medical society on january , .] the object of clothing should be the promotion and maintenance of good health, together with a feeling of well-being under all atmospheric conditions. consideration of the subject naturally sub-divides itself into: i. materials. ii. texture. iii. form of clothing. chief among the materials used for clothing in the order of their respective merits are linen, cotton, silk, and wool, the latter being the best. a few words as to these materials in the raw state: linen conducts heat better than cotton, silk or wool. it absorbs moisture and does not shrink. cotton, also a vegetable fibre, which is hard, durable and does not shrink, has serious objections, in that it is very non-absorbent of moisture. it does not conduct heat as well as linen, but more rapidly than silk or wool. silk, an animal product, consisting of fine, smooth round fibrillæ, having been in the liquid condition before leaving the body of the silkworm, possesses no central canal, and no oily coating. it is quite a good absorbent of moisture, ranking next to wool. at ordinary temperature it always contains between and per centum of moisture. in its sale or purchase, account is taken of the amount of moisture in order to protect the purchaser from paying silk prices for water. wool, the fleece of sheep, an animal fibre, whose function in nature has been two-fold, the protection from cold, and an aid to evaporation of cutaneous moisture, is admirably fitted as a material for clothing. it permits but slow radiation of heat, and absorbs moisture better than any other clothing material. it does this, according to parkes, in two ways: st. by interposition between the fibres. d. by penetration into the central canal. his experiments led him to believe its hydroscopic powers double in proportion to its weight and quadruple for surface, as compared with cotton or linen. perfectly dried wool has the power of absorbing per centum, by weight, of water. under ordinary conditions it contains to per centum. other things being equal, then woolen fabrics will best prevent too rapid radiation of heat; silk next, cotton third, linen fourth. wash-leather, buckskin and chamois-skin need not be considered, for one or all of the following reasons: expense, poor provision for evaporation, poor washing qualities. as absorbers of moisture, rank, respectively: wool, silk, linen and cotton. _the advantages of cotton over wool lie in its cheapness and non-shrinking qualities. if properly constructed, however, the advantageous properties of wool can be utilized without the shrinking by using a cotton framework, into the meshes of which the loose, raw fleece is worked._ that fabric will be best adapted for health, which combined with greatest porosity, possesses the least (a) conductivity, (b) greatest hydroscopic power, and (c) best shape. by porosity is understood the freedom with which air can pass through the interstices of a fabric. pettenkoffer's practical demonstrations with the following cloths, shows that if heavy flannel be taken as permitting parts of air to pass, linen permitted . or per centum; lambskin . or . per centum; silk fabric, heavy, . or . per centum; glove-leather . or . per centum. the conclusion follows that porosity does not injure the powers of preventing radiation (it even increases it) for flannel, admittedly the warmest clothing, permits the freest circulation of air. in consequence of the fact of a fabric's possessing great porosity, it contains in its interstices what might be called "residual air." whether gases possess conductivity is open to discussion, but this is certain, that such power is very small. could we by any means envelop the body in a layer of stationary air, we could reduce the heat-loss to a minimum. a striking example of the poor conductivity of _stationary air_ is related by dr. kane, the arctic explorer, who found that on perfectly still days they could withstand, without suffering, a temperature of- f.,[a] with ears and hands exposed, but the moment a breeze sprung up it became necessary to seek immediate shelter. [a] ° f, below zero. although impossible to perfectly accomplish this, (_i. e._, the surrounding of body in a stationary envelope of air), that cloth or fabric which most nearly approximates this, other things being equal, will prove itself the warmest as well as best adapted for evaporation of cutaneous moisture. such a nearly stationary air occurs naturally in the various pelts, and although in many the integument is visible beneath, yet they can withstand the most rigorous weather. thus krieger's experiments with tin cylinders containing hot water with two coverings of different materials, between which an interval of / to / inch was left, proved (after subtracting the amount due for conduction) the impediment to radiation by the second layer to be, _viz_: linen, ; silk, ; flannel, . thus showing that the stationary air, rather than the material out of which the second layer was made, was the main factor in preventing radiation. he then experimented with single and double layers of the same material surrounding these cylinders, obtaining the following instructive results; the numbers representing the proportionate loss of heat through double to single layers, the losses through the single ones being taken at : double stuff, ("doppel stoff") fleece-lined cotton - buck-skin - flannel home-spun linen stout, extra heavy silk from these results the conclusion is obvious that the substance and its weight are of less consequence, where _radiation_ is in question, than its texture and volume. believing that the explanation was due to the "residual air," experiments have been made with loose wadding, noting the rapidity of fall of temperature, on compressing the same wadding, when the fall was far more rapid. again, the loss of heat through a rabbit's fur being taken as , when shorn of its hair it rose to ; and further destroying its porosity by a coating of gum-arabic, it rose to . (dict. hygiene.) by greatest porosity best provision is made for the evaporation of perspiration, the quantity of which varies greatly under different conditions. in a day of rest the amount as determined by seguin and voit is grams (about quart). during exercise it may increase to quantities incredible, were the figures not furnished by the best of observers. for example: dalton mentions its increase to grams per hour! and dr. southwood smith has seen it rise to , grams per hour during violent exercise in a heated atmosphere! now, if a clothing possesses no porosity, _e. g._, the mackintosh, and rubber clothing generally, even without exercise, there would collect somewhere beneath it a quart of water, but if exercise be indulged in, the quantity may become large indeed; particularly after the atmosphere beneath has been surcharged with vapor, and evaporation ceases to occur from the surface, and with it the grateful cooling process. the french government has not permitted its introduction into its army for such obvious reasons. of course, for a short time during a shower they may and do prove useful; but i am convinced that many have incurred most serious injury, even death, by throwing off the rubber clothing after the inner clothing had become permeated with moisture, when the chilling, incident to the sudden increased evaporation, has resulted in some acute inflammation. moreover, the evaporation of the normal cutaneous moisture (with that of the lungs) requires heat units or one-fifth of all the heat produced in the system. (dalton.) conservation of part of this loss contributes an equivalent amount of force to the organism, since heat and force are interchangeable terms. _this can be done._ under normal conditions evaporation of perspiration occurs in the "insensible," _i. e._, vapor state, but change of these conditions (increased heat, and moisture in the atmosphere, increased exercise, etc.,) causes it to collect upon the integument in the visible or sensible state, and unless conducted away, may chill the body. prevention of such condensation will avoid such dangerous and deleterious influences. the cause of condensation is a lowering of the temperature. _we have simply to maintain its temperature until at a perceptible distance from the body. this can be accomplished by a layer of loose wool, such as is hereafter described. the "residual air" having been once raised to the body temperature, it remains so, and the vapor does not assume the liquid state until meeting with the chilling influences in the outer layer of cloth._ finally, bodies passing from the gaseous to the liquid state emit the heat--latent heat--which was essential to their assuming the gaseous condition. this occurring in the case of perspiration in the cloth interstices increases by just so much their warmth, in other words lessens the demand for heat production. before leaving the subject of texture, note should be made of the importance of its being of a loose nature. _however great the hydroscopic power of a material in the raw state, if it be tightly woven that power is greatly diminished, or even quite destroyed. hence the advantage of loosely knitted over tightly woven goods._ important indeed is the proper fitting of clothing. however good the materials they may then not accomplish their purpose for the following reasons: i. by close application to the skin certain materials acting as cutaneous stimulants, maintaining an active equable circulation. wool possesses this property most markedly; even in some delicate skins proving an irritant. a very marked increase of oily matter is excreted over these areas where oil-glands exist in greatest abundance, _i. e._, mesial line of thorax, in front and behind; thus improving the flexibility of the skin. ii. by fitting neatly, chambers of air heated by the body are not with every change of position of the wearer forced out, as occurs in illy-fitting clothing. upward currents of air naturally occur, and if permitted to exist carry off large amounts of caloric. simple attention to these two facts reduced the death rate of the wurtemburg army corps from . to . , as compared with the other departments of the german army. the general application and advantages of such an ideal clothing to diseased conditions, it is needless for me to describe to a body of medical men; but particular references ought to be made to rheumatism and nephritis, ("kidney troubles.") to the former, because best provision is made for cutaneous elimination (always acid!) so essential in that disorder, in which there is so marked a diminution in the alkalinity of the blood; to the latter because sudden congestions are obviated in an organ already overworked, by preventing sudden chilling of the surface. _it only remains for me to call your attention to my accidentally finding such a clothing upon a patient of mine (mr. jaros), and the tests to which i have put it._ _he described its history and manufacture as follows_: "_while suffering from an attack of rheumatic sciatica in the harz mountains, following a peasant's advice, i enveloped myself in loose lamb's fleece which he provided, and i experienced speedy relief. on reaching berlin i consulted chief councillor-of-health, dr. abarbanell, who advised me to have constructed some underwear with a fleece lining. i sought a weaver and had some underwear knitted, into the meshes of which were worked, "by hand," during the process of knitting, layers of loose lamb's wool._" now, gentlemen, this device was a particularly happy one, in that all the requirements of a truly hygienic wear are provided for. _porosity, warmth, absorbent powers and elasticity. with advice he set to work and perfected a modification of the knitting machine which incorporated into the meshes of the cloth loose lamb's wool. the samples presented speak for themselves as to its success. by the use of such a fabric, perspiration (unless excessive indeed) remains in the insensible state until it meets with the cooling influences externally in the cotton framework, the integument remaining dry, while the cotton back, as well as the linen shirt over it, may be "wringing wet." exposure to cold draughts with such a suit does not chill the integument because the sudden increased evaporation occurs at a distance from the skin, and is separated from it by a layer of wool._ _to test the soundness of the theory i submitted myself to a temperature of ° f., under as nearly as possible the same atmospheric conditions, with the three chief winter suitings, and obtained the results in table below:_ ====================+==============+============+============ | | "nonotuck" | | _jaros | silk | | hygienic | suiting, | cartwright | wear._ | heavy. | & warner's --------------------+--------------+------------+------------- weight after | , | , | , " before exposure | , grs. | , | , difference | , grs. | grs.| , degree of absolute | | | dryness of air | , | . | . temp, dry bulb therm| ° f | ° f | ° temp, wet bulb therm| ° | ° | ° --------------------+--------------+------------+-------------- |_warm but not |cooler than |sticky, |sticky; outer |other wear; |clammy; sensation |surface damp; |sticky; skin|wet |skin dry where|damp; |through; |wear touches; |comfortable.|uncomfortable. |comfortable._ | | ====================+==============+============+============== _from these experiments it is to be seen, that of all the perspiration exuded, the silk retained (by a small amount) the least; the hygienic wear the next, and the english woolen goods the most. note, however, must be taken of two facts concerning the experiment with the silk clothing._ _ st. the temperature was ° f. lower than when testing the hygienic wear, and ° than the english goods. hence less perspiration was thrown out._ _ d. there was a difference of . ° of absolute dryness of the atmosphere, hence evaporation took place more rapidly from the silk goods in the dryer atmosphere. the barometer remained almost stationary during the three days of observation._ _on emerging from the hot room into one of a temperature of ° f., an immediate chilling was felt with the silk goods; while the english gave a sensation of moisture and cold. the chilly sensation was not experienced with the woolen-lined hygienic wear._ _conclusions._ _ st. that fleece-lined goods are warmest._ _ d. permit at least equal evaporation with the silk._ _ . guard against sudden chilling of the body._ _ th. are cheaper than silk and as cheap as cartwright & warner's._ _ th. are particularly indicated in rheumatism and kidney disease._ philosophy of clothing. by mattieu williams. the following extracts are from the experiments and conclusions of rumford, with supplements by prof. mattieu williams, of england. (see "knowledge," nos. to , "philosophy of clothing.") the physiological confirmation of these results are not quoted; confining the citations to the qualitative value of fibres, especially sheep's wool, and the possibility of materials therefrom that possess the _essentials_ recommended. the first use of clothing being to keep the wearer warm, rumford's first inquiry was directed to find the best material for this purpose. he saw at once that clothing did this by resisting the passage outwards of the animal heat. he accordingly constructed a model wearer, as described in the following experiments: a mercurial thermometer, whose bulb was / th of an inch in diameter, and its tube about ten inches long. this was suspended in the axis of a cylindrical glass tube about three-quarters of an inch in diameter, ending with a globe - / inch in diameter, in such a manner that the center of the thermometer bulb occupied the center of the globe, thus leaving a surrounding space to be occupied by the material to be examined. the thermometer tube was graduated with divisions between the freezing and boiling points of water--_i. e._, a reaumur scale divided to tenths of degrees. the thermometer was held in its place by a long cork stopper. he described his method of clothing the bulb as follows: the thermometer being taken out of the cylindrical tube, about two-thirds of the substance which as to be the subject of the experiment is introduced into the globe; after which the bulb of the thermometer introduced a few inches into the cylinder; and after it, the remainder of the substance being placed round about the tube of the thermometer: and lastly, the thermometer being introduced further into the tube, and being brought into its proper place, that part of the substance which, being introduced last, remains in the cylindrical tube above the bulb of the thermometer, is pushed down into the globe, and placed equally round the bulb of the thermometer by means of a brass wire, which is passed through holes made for that purpose in the stopple closing the end of the cylindrical tube. the temperature he selected as the starting point was degrees reaumur= degrees fahr. he preferred this to the boiling point, as he could obtain it accurately by first plunging the whole apparatus duly charged into nearly boiling water, then allowing it to fall to degrees, and immediately plunging it into a mixture of pounded ice and water, where, by the aid of a little agitation, it remained steadily at the freezing point. the following table shows the results with the substances therein mentioned, the quantity in each case being grains: ============+===========+=============+============ |raw silk as| | heat lost. |spun by the|sheep's wool.|cotton wool. | worm. | | ------------+-----------+-------------+------------ ° | -- | -- | -- | ´´ | ´´ | ´´ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | ------------+-----------+-------------+------------ total times | , | , | , ------------+-----------+-------------+------------ the clothing value or "warmth" of these substances as thus applied varies directly with these figures, representing the passage of heat or their "non-conducting" power. the experiments described were directed to the determination of the relative power of different materials. (we have only quoted the substances most generally used for clothing purposes.) these were followed by another series upon certain given materials differently arranged, or in different conditions of density. the same "passage thermometer" was used. the question to be determined was, whether the protecting power of the substances used in the previous experiments was due to the non-conduction of the material of those substances themselves, or whether the air imprisoned between their fibres was an important factor. if the silk, wool and cotton did all the obstructive work independently of the air, then the amount of obstruction should vary with the quantity of fibre. as, in the experiments already described, the fibres were loosely arranged round the bulk of the thermometer, it was easy to increase their quantity by packing them more closely, and yet retaining the other conditions of bulk, etc., the same. it was evident from the results, with grains, grains, grains, that the protective power does not increase nearly in the same proportion as the quantity of material when packed in the same space. had such been the case, and the rate of cooling proportionately retarded, the experiment (with eider down from the duck) with grains should have been , x , seconds, instead of only , seconds. the following displays the results obtained by using the same material, in same quantity, but differently disposed, grains of each: --------+------+--------+-------+------+------+------+------+------+----- | |sewing | | | | | | | | |or | | | | | | |linen heat | |knitting| |woolen| |cotton| |linen |cloth lost or | |silk | |thread| |thread| |thread|wrap- amount | |wound |sheep's|wound |cotton|wound | |wound |-ped of |raw |round |wool, |round |wool, |round |lint, |round |round cooling.|silk. |bulb. |loose. |bulb. |loose.|bulb. |loose.|bulb. |bulb. --------+------+--------+=======+======+------+------+------+------+----- ° | -- | -- | -- | -- | -- | -- | -- | -- | -- | "| " | "| "| "| "| "| "| " | | +-------+------+ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | +-------+------+ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | +-------+------+ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | +-------+------+ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | +-------+------+ | | | | | | | | | | | | | --------+------+--------+=======+======+------+------+------+------+----- tot. | | | | | | | | | times. | , | | , | | , | | , | | --------+------+--------+-------+------+------+------+------+------+----- from this it is to be seen that sheep's wool loose would retard the passage of heat more perfectly than when spun into thread. the "jaros hygienic material" _of sheep's wool unspun worn next the body possesses the essentials for non-conduction of heat in a manner described_. it is an instance how an effort to apply pure science to practical business may react in such manner that practical business shall become a beneficent contributor to pure science. another practical question suggested is: whether clothing materials differ in their powers of absorbing the cutaneous exhalations; if so, which are the most effective, and what are the relations of this function to that of confining air, and thereby maintaining the temperature of the body? if these two functions are opposed, then how shall we effect a compromise? if, on the other hand, they go together in any special material, the desirability of using this material is doubly indicated. _sheep's wool_ does absorb (see knowledge ) the aqueous vapor. loosely distributed fibres of wool in a suitable fabric take hold of the vapor of the insensible perspiration in the gaseous form, and by virtue of gaseous diffusion continually exchange this with the gasses of the outer atmosphere. the conclusion, therefore, is that such a material is best suited for clothing, both in winter and summer. sir john billingall (lecturer on military surgery) mentions his experience in india, and the proof of the utility of wool in checking the progress of a most aggravated form of dysentery in the second battalion of the royals. the result of this has led to the enforcement of the use of belts for tropical service. mr. sage of the army clothing depot at pemlico, tells me many thousands have lately been made there. my experience and subsequent observations have proven that, although loosely woven flannels may advantageously prevent the sudden chills from the evaporations of accumulated perspiration, this is better _done by a knitted fleecy wool fabric worn next the skin_. jaros hygienic material, wool fleece knit. hygienic underwear by l. d. rodgers, a. m., m. d. (from peoples' health journal, october, .) considerable scientific attention has recently been very profitably devoted to the question of fabrics for underwear most conducive to health. interesting experiments have been made developing facts which will surprise almost everyone on learning them for the first time. one of the simplest and most readily understood of these experiments was that of filling tin cans with hot water and wrapping each one with a different fabric, and then observing with thermometers the varying rapidity in the loss of heat. thus showing accurately the relative heat preserving value of each fabric. of two cans surrounded with the same amount of common cotton batting, in one case the cotton being compressed, and the other not, the loss of heat was found to be much more rapid in the former than in the latter. showing, therefore, conclusively, that loose open fabrics are warmer than those which contain less air in their interstices. this accords with the well-known fact that the new flannel is warmer than old which has undergone the felting or fulling processes. assuming that flannel contains units of air in its interstices, the permeability of other substances have been found to be as follows: linen, ; silk, ; buckskin, ; kid, ; chamois, . doubling the layers of any given material does not diminish the loss of heat in the same proportion. assuming the loss of heat through a single layer to be , through a double layer of the same material it is found to be as follows: thin silk, ; gutta percha, ; shirtings, ; stout silk, ; thick home-spun linen, ; chamois leather, - ; flannel, ; summer buckskin, ; winter buckskin, . thus we see that the loss of heat through two layers of thin silk is only three per cent. less than through one layer. the inference is that what the substance is and what its weight, does not make so much difference as its texture and volume. how the body may lose heat rapidly by wet clothing, and ill results follow, is shown by the following experiment: a rabbit was shorn of its fur, its temperature was then found to be degrees. it was wrapped with a wet cloth and placed in a room, the temperature of which was degrees. at the expiration of five hours the temperature of the rabbit was found to be degrees. the capacity of water to absorb heat is known to be greater than any other substance. now, when our clothing is damp from perspiration or from any other cause, our bodies lose just as much heat as the moisture in our clothing is capable of absorbing. the importance of always having dry material next to the skin is evident, and that material which will retain the least moisture is the best. woolen fibre is found to answer this purpose more nearly than any other. in addition to its well-known filtering capacity, it has a greater stimulating action upon the skin than any other. on the other hand, cotton fibre, on account of its great capillary attraction, rapidly absorbs and retains moisture. a fabric, therefore, so constructed as to allow a layer of woolen fibre to lie between the skin and a layer of cotton fibre, and sufficiently open and loose as to contain the largest possible amount of air is the ideal. _the jaros hygienic underwear material, a new fabric, seems beautifully adapted to this end. a layer of woolen fibres, soft and fleecy, is firmly held on one side of and in the meshes of an exceeding porous cotton fabric, so that while one extremity of a fibre lies against the skin, the other is in contact with the cotton; thus admitting of the rapid transference of all dampness of perspiration to the cotton where it is retained, and consequently leaving no moisture next to the skin to absorb and diminish the heat of the body. the importance of this subject, and the possibilities of this new fabric for the prevention of colds, and their resultant diseases, can only be appreciated when we remember the simple fact that it is impossible to take a cold so long as a healthy condition of the skin, and an even temperature of the surface of the body, are maintained._ testimonials extracts--renal disease, gen'l value. bright's disease and allied affections of the kidneys. by charles w. purdy, m. d., prof. of genito-urinary and renal diseases in the chicago polyclinic. chapter .--albuminuria.--pages - . the skin.--"* * * the most thorough protection to the skin is secured by the use of the jaros hygienic wear, especially during the cold and damp season. * * * it will be seen that the cotton fabric secures a comparatively static condition of air next the skin, while the fleece wool combines the minimum radiation of heat from the body with the greatest attainable hygroscopic power, thus securing uniform dryness and warmth of the skin under various conditions of atmosphere. dr. l. l. mcarthur has demonstrated before the chicago medical society the superiority of the jaros wear over all other fabrics for the purpose of protecting the skin against rapid changes of temperature and humidity, and my own experience with it altogether bears out his deduction." * * * * * chronic bright's disease of the kidneys. j. h. price, m. d., elmira, n. y. (abstract of paper read before n. y. state medical society, july, .) "fleece lined or silk under garments, according to the season, should be worn next to the skin the entire year. i would especially recommend for these patients the "jaros hygienic underwear." these garments are light, warm, and delightfully soft. they afford full protection to the body against sudden chilling." * * * * * physicians--renal disease, gen'l value. moses gunn, m. d., ll. d., treas. rush medical college, professor surgery, calumet ave. mr. j. jaros. chicago, dec. , . i have been wearing for the past few weeks the fleece-lined underclothing of the jaros hygienic wear. as a protection in extreme cold weather, this fabric is most comfortably efficacious. it also reduces to a minimum the unpleasant chilly sensations incident to a sudden change from an overheated room to the untempered cold of out-door winter weather. it possesses, therefore, hygienic value. moses gunn, m. d., ll. d. * * * * * de laskie miller, ph. d., m. d., secretary rush medical college, prof. obstetrics. mr. j. jaros, city. chicago, dec. , . i have examined specimens of your "jaros hygienic wear" with much interest. in material and construction these garments fulfill completely the requirements of the scientific essentials in underwear, insuring to the highest degree both the comfort and the health of the wearer, and as such i recommend them. de laskie miller, ph. d., m. d. i concur in the above. j. adams allen, m. d., ll. d., president rush medical college prof. practice of medicine. * * * * * i. n. danforth, a. m., m. d., prof. of renal diseases, chicago medical college. chicago medical college, medical department northwestern university, chicago, jan. , . j. jaros, esq. my dear sir:--i am much impressed with the value of the jaros hygienic wear, especially in renal and other diseases in which sudden changes of body temperature are hazardous. i think it will prove a valuable addition to our means of treating chronic, renal and other diseases in which full protection of the skin is all important. yours truly, i. n. danforth, a. m., m. d. * * * * * phy's--pulmonary consumption, bronchitis. w. f. bogart, m. d. black hawk, colo., feb'y , ' . jaros hygienic underwear co., chicago, ill. gents:--i am delighted with your underwear for myself, and always recommend it to my patients that are troubled with lung or bronchial diseases. respectfully, w. f. bogart, m. d. * * * * * address before elmira academy of medicine, july, . _curability and treatment of pulmonary consumption._ by j. w. price, m. d. the dress of the consumptive patient should be adapted to equalize the temperature of the body, so loose that it interferes in no way with the natural functions. the underclothing should be woolen, either lamb's wool or flannel. after an extended observation of the benefits derived from wearing the "jaros hygienic underclothing,"--a wool fleece knit material of graded weights, adapted to the season, i believe to be the best protective devices yet known for these patients. they are excellent non-conductors of changes of the temperature, and at the same time absorb cutaneous moisture--two most important qualities. * * * * * s. b. munn, m. d. waterbury, conn., jan. , . jaros hygienic underwear co.: i take great pleasure in recommending your hygienic underwear as the best i have ever seen. i have been wearing it now about four months, and can say it is the best protection from colds, and being so thoroughly a non-conductor, prevents the wearer from all ill effects of sudden changes of temperature; also a rheumatic prophylactic. a lady patient of mine, who has suffered some four years with chronic bronchitis, is now wearing it, and is already very much relieved and improving faster with it, and without medicine, than she has previously with medicine, and at the same time wearing good flannel. respectfully yours, s. b. munn, m. d. * * * * * physicians--bronchitis, rheumatism. robert hunter, m. d., no. state street, corner of washington. mr. j. jaros: chicago, oct. , . dear sir:--i have great pleasure in expressing my entire approval of your underwear. it affords a better protection to the body in our variable climate than any kind of flannel in use. nothing but wool is fit to maintain the capillary circulation of the skin, preserve warmth and promote insensible perspiration, without which good health impossible. i find your garments invaluable in the treatment of lung complaints, and recommend them to all my patients. robert hunter, m. d. * * * * * james nevins hyde, a. m., m. d., professor of skin and venereal diseases, rush medical college, wabash avenue, chicago, february , . gentlemen:--i take especial pleasure in saying that i have often employed the _jaros wear_ in cases of muscular and other forms of rheumatism, and always with advantage to the patient. i have had knowledge of the value of these undergarments for a period of time sufficiently long to justify me in stating very positively that i regard them as a valuable means of protecting the surface of the body from the climatic changes to which it is much exposed in this part of the country. james nevins hyde. * * * * * j. e. harper, a. m., m. d. prof. ophthalmology and otology, college physicians and surgeons, ophthalmic college, and attending surgeon oakwood retreat, lake geneva, wis. chicago, june th, ' . to j. jaros, chicago, ill. dear sir:--i have felt for some time that i would like to give expression to my high regard for your "hygienic underwear," and hope you will accept the following as a spontaneous estimate of its value as an adjunct to the treatment of certain diseases as well as a reliable prophylactic. i have used your underwear in my family and recommended it to my patients during the past year, and am firmly convinced that its merits can not be overestimated as regards a comfortable and protecting material for undergarments. persons affected with the rheumatic diathesis, those who have weak heart or lungs, and those having catarrhal troubles, or who take cold easily, should use your underwear constantly. respectfully, j. e. harper. * * * * * physicians--rheumatism. john h. price, m. d., sec.'y chemung county, med. soc., n. y. j. jaros, esq. elmira, n. y., apr. , . my dear sir:--the object of clothing is to preserve the proper heat of the body, by protecting it both from cold and heat, and thus to prevent the injurious actions of sudden changes of temperature upon the skin. this object is most admirably accomplished by the "jaros hygienic wear." i have demonstrated this most important fact in my own person during the past six months. for several years past i have been much annoyed by occasional attacks of muscular rheumatism. since i began to wear the "jaros hygienic clothing" i have been almost entirely free from these attacks. i deem them a valuable auxiliary in the treatment of _consumption, bright's disease and rheumatism_. very truly yours, john h. price, m. d. * * * * * e. j. doring, m. d., president chicago medico-legal society, prairie avenue. chicago, jan. , . mr. j. jaros. dear sir:--referring to your letter of the th, i wish to say in reply that i have frequently had occasion to recommend your underwear for patients suffering from rheumatism, neuralgia, etc., and have been entirely satisfied with the results obtained. i shall continue to recommend it. very respectfully, edwin j. doring, m. d. * * * * * norman bridge, m. d., prof. of pathology and adjunct professor of the principles and practice of medicine, rush medical college. chicago, , , . j. jaros, esq. dear sir:--one winter's practical use of the underwear manufactured by your company, as well as the observation of the use of it by others have convinced me of its great value as an under clothing for protecting the body against cold and various diseases in some measure incident thereto, especially rheumatoid affections. the physical principles of its construction appear to be correct, and it is certainly very agreeable to the wearer. most truly yours, norman bridge. * * * * * david warman, m. d. trenton, n. j., feb. , . jaros hygienic underwear co., chicago, ill. dear sirs:--my experience with your hygienic underwear, though somewhat limited at present, i cheerfully give you. one of my patients wearing it is delighted, and so am i. the patient was a sufferer from muscular rheumatism, and since he donned your garments he has not had an attack; although the weather has just been of the kind to produce the disease. in this peculiar and ever changing climate of ours, it is important to wear woolen undergarments the year round. they not only protect from cold, but heat as well, by aiding in evaporation from the body and keeping the surface warm. the principles upon which your wear is constructed is undoubtedly correct, in maintaining a healthy and normal action of the skin and thereby diminishing the liability to taking cold. i take great pleasure in recommending them to my patients. sincerely yours, david warman. * * * * * r. w. bishop, a. b., m. d., prof. physiology and dermatology, chicago med. college. chicago, aug. , . jaros hygienic underwear co. i have much pleasure in stating that i have used your underwear for several years, and have found it invaluable as a safeguard against many of the ills caused by sudden and severe climatic changes. i also prescribe it for rheumatism. yours respectively, r. w. bishop. * * * * * s. a. conkling, m. d. canton, ohio, feb. th, . jaros hygienic co., chicago, ill. gentlemen:--after a trial during the past winter of the jaros hygienic wear i am fully satisfied of its merits in both protecting and properly airifying the body, and especially do i recommend it as being well calculated for persons predisposed to a rheumatic diathesis and a general weakened condition of the nervous system, thereby greatly preventing liability in contracting colds. i also recommend it as a good general underwear because of its absorbing powers. i am, respectfully yours, s. a. conkling, m. d. * * * * * geo. k. franks, m. d. burton, w. va., feb. , . j. jaros, esq. i have been wearing this winter the fleece-lined underwear of your manufacture. as a protection in extreme cold weather, especially for physicians in the country who have often to get out of a warm bed and ride several miles in the coldest weather, it has no equal. i have tried silk, as also the best of ordinary flannels, but they fall far short of the jaros underwear. it has always been my misfortune. i was easily affected by cold, viz: easy to take cold. since wearing the jaros hygienic underwear i have not had a single cold. for the underwear i claim as much a specific in rheumatism as quinine in intermittent. since wearing your goods i have never had a single attack, while before i have not passed a winter without experiencing several severe attacks in the last twenty years. respectfully yours, george k. franks. * * * * * u. s. navy.--pay inspector department, u. s. naval academy. annapolis, md., feb. , . gentlemen:--i cannot refrain from expressing to you the great satisfaction and enjoyment i have received from the use of your jaros hygienic underwear during the past winter. i have been almost free from rheumatic pains, from which i have heretofore suffered greatly, and also enjoyed an exception from severe colds, which is a very unusual luxury with me in the winter season; all of which i must attribute to the protection afforded by my hygienics. i am also gratified to find that with the proper care in washing there is no perceptible shrinkage. in short, in every way, i find them the most desirable article i have ever seen for the object to be attained. i shall be so loth to part with them that i hope you will manufacture a lighter grade for summer wear. you are at liberty to make any use you may see fit of my testimony. very truly yours, thos. t. caswell, pay inspector u. s. navy. * * * * * from rt. rev. bishop cheney. chas. edw. cheney. rector's study, christ church, michigan avenue,} chicago, nov. , .} j. jaros, esq., room , central music hall, city. dear sir:--i take pleasure in saying, that by the advice of my physician, i obtained from you two suits of "jaros hygienic wear." i commenced wearing the same two weeks ago saturday last. up to that time i had been a sufferer from a torturing rheumatic pain in my right shoulder, which persisted in waking me about o'clock every morning, and which medicines seemed to relieve only temporarily. from the hour that i commenced the use of your underwear, i have never had the slightest twinging of this pain. i feel under personal obligations to you for the relief which i have experienced. very truly yours, chas. edw. cheney. * * * * * w. c. davis, m. d., cor. w. washington street and belmont avenue. west indianapolis, ind., feb. , . j. jaros, chicago, ill. my dear sir:--i have prescribed your underwear for the use of patients with chronic rheumatism, and always with very satisfactory results. it is also most excellent in the case of persons whose flesh is easily irritated by the ordinary flannel underwear, being soft and light as it is warm. respectfully, w. c. davis. * * * * * f. h. van liew, m. d. mr. j. jaros. hinsdale, ill., may , . dear sir:--there has been a want in the truly hygienic features in the undergarments so generally offered, which has in many cases added obstacles in the treatment of certain diseases. i feel satisfied that the "jaros hygienic wear" possesses the great essentials in clothing, maintaining an even temperature over the entire body and transmitting moisture in the manner peculiarly claimed for your material. the effect on such patients as i have prescribed it is satisfactory indeed, and the experience on my own person in a case of articular rheumatism of long standing, is truly marked. the condition of my body for the last two winters, during which i have used the "wear," was a feeling of comfort and relief from pain, formerly caused by every change of temperature. for rheumatism and catarrhal patients i am free to say this is a valuable adjunct to our means of treating same. yours very truly, f. h. van liew, m. d. * * * * * john h. page, major th infantry, u. s. a. mr. j. jaros, chicago, ill. fort yates, dak., aug. , . dear sir:--i am personally delighted, with your underwear, and shall use no other. was free from rheumatic pains last winter, and i attribute it to the healthy condition of my skin from the use of your clothing. very respectfully, john h. page. * * * * * physician's--gen'l value. we refer, with permission, as to the scientific principles and hygienic merits of the jaros hygienic wear. to h. a. johnson, m. d., ll. d., emeritus professor, chicago medical college, and n. s. davis, jr., a. m., m. d., adj. prof. practice principles of medicine, chicago medical college. * * * * * oscar, c. dewolf, a. m., m. d., prof. hygiene, chicago medical college, commissioner of health. city of chicago department of health,} chicago, dec. , .} i have been wearing during the past cold the jaros hygienic underwear. i have never worn underclothing which gave me so much satisfaction. the garments are light, warm and delightfully soft, and if properly washed retain their fleecy wool surface. oscar c. dewolf, a. m., m. d. * * * * * mary harris thompson, m. d., clinical prof. of obstetrics and gynæcology, women's med. college, central music hall, mr. j. jaros. chicago, nov. , . dear sir:--the "jaros hygienic wear" is unsurpassed in its purpose of retaining an equable temperature and moisture of the surface of the body, thus preventing an undue and sudden chilling, thereby inducing catarrhs of the mucus membranes, conditions so common in this latitude. its economy and therapeutic value is apparent. respectfully, mary harris thompson, m. d. * * * * * robert h. babcock, m. d., no. monroe street, room . mr. jaros. chicago, feb. , . dear sir:--i am sincere in expressing a favorable opinion of the "jaros hygienic wear" so far as my experience allows me to judge. the patients to whom i have recommended it are of delicate health, very susceptible to cold. they uniformly expressed themselves as pleased with the garments made for them by you, and as having suffered far less from the cold this winter than usual: a result which they attribute directly to the power of the underclothing to prevent sudden chilling of the body upon transition from a high to a low temperature. personally, i have worn the underclothing all winter, and believe my unwonted freedom from attacks of bronchitis due to the efficient protection afforded by the underwear. your cloth seems to me to be a better non-conductor than other woolen materials, and therefore particularly suitable to persons with heart or lung disease. i am, very truly yours, robert h. babcock, m. d. * * * * * plymmon s. hayes, m. d., prof. gynæcology, chicago polyclinic. mr. j. jaros. chicago, aug. , . dear sir:--i have found all the indications of a truly hygienic wear in your underclothing, and certainly consider it the ideal wear for this climate. yours truly, plymmon s. hayes, m. d. * * * * * we further refer, with permission, as to the therapeutic and prophylactic value of the jaros hygienic wear, to the following medical gentlemen: s. smith, m. d., emeritus prof. materia medica and therapeutics, hahneman medical college, chicago. a. e. small, a. m., m. d., prof. principles and practice of medicine, hahneman medical college, chicago. milton jay, m. d., prof. surgery, dean bennett med. college, chicago. d. a. cashman, m. d., prof. hygiene, bennett med. college, chicago. albert leffingwell, m. d. james c. jackson, m. d., head of staff, sanitarium, dansville, n. y. * * * * * l. j. kellogg, m. d., cor. seventh and i streets. j. jaros, esq. sacramento, cal., july , . dear sir:--in regard to your goods i am very glad to state their worth. they have proven more efficient than any other wear in the actions for which truly hygienic wear is sought, and therefore i cheerfully recommend it to my patients. it laundries beautifully without shrinking. sincerely yours, l. j. kellogg, m. d. * * * * * h. tyler wilcox, m. d., cor. garrison avenue and gamble streets. mr. j. jaros. st. louis, mo., jan. , . dear sir:--with reference to the use of your "hygienic wear" i would say that i am greatly pleased with it. all my patients have been benefited from its use, and are delighted, some saying they would not part therewith for double the cost. in debilitated _nervous troubles_, _kidney_, and especially _lung complaints_, it is a therapeutic agent, almost indispensable in this and all northern climates. respectfully, h. tyler wilson, m. d. * * * * * d. w. bliss, m. d., thirteenth street, n. w., attending surgeon on late president garfield. washington, d. c., oct. , . jaros hygienic underwear co. gents:--i have been very favorably impressed with the value of your underwear, and especially for persons of impaired health, as a protective measure against the pronounced thermal changes of this locality, and am free to recommend their use. very respectfully yours, d. w. bliss. * * * * * j. h. thompson, m. d., wisconsin street. mr. j. jaros, chicago, milwaukee, wis., jan. , . dear sir:--after months of wear and prescription of the "jaros hygienic clothing," i can fully endorse it as the best wear now used, and i confidently advise it for its prophylactic and therapeutic properties. j. h. thompson, m. d. * * * * * p. m. lusson, m. d. mr. j. jaros, chicago: san jose, cal., feb. , . dear sir:--i am pleased to state that the "jaros hygienic wear" has proven the nicest wear worn or prescribed by me, and have found them of great value in treatment of delicate patients. by a more general use many people would recover health or prolong life. respectfully yours, p. m. lusson, m. d. * * * * * wm. h. hawkes, m. d., new york avenue. mr. j. jaros, chicago; washington, d. c., feb. , . dear sir:--there is indeed need of undergarments as you manufacture in a climate so variable. i am satisfied with the hygienic principles underlying them, and have been pleased in prescribing them. shall be glad to know that the wear is procurable in washington. very truly yours, wm. h. hawkes, m. d. * * * * * j. f. jenkins, m. d. tecumseh, mich., aug. , . jaros hygienic underwear co. gentlemen:--during the winter of i had the pleasure of testing your underwear on my own person. i found your "wear" comfortably efficacious throughout the various changes of a severe winter, and in every way it justifies the representations made by you. i shall not hesitate to recommend the "wear" to my patients where it is indicated. yours truly, j. f. jenkins. * * * * * f. a. dunsmoor, m. d., dean minneapolis hospital college. minneapolis, dec. , . jaros hygienic underwear co. i cheerfully certify to the use and prescription of your hygienic underwear. it is the most agreeable and warmest underclothing i ever tried. i am satisfied that in theory and practice it is the best wear on the market for our climate. truly yours, f. a. dunsmoor. * * * * * e. l. townsend, d. d. s., secretary, southern california odontological society, s. spring street. los angeles, jan. , . jaros hygienic underwear co., chicago, ill. gentlemen:--the goods purchased of you have given perfect satisfaction, and i have not failed to recommend the underwear to my patients and friends. the climate here is such that makes your goods almost a necessity, and when properly introduced, i think no invalid will consider himself well clothed without a suit of the jaros hygienic underwear. i am, yours truly, e. l. townsend. * * * * * a. j. auten, m. d., corner of wabash and d streets, st. paul, minn., jan. . mr. jaros. dear sir:--the jaros hygienic wear meets with my most hearty approbation. it is an ideal of perfection in every respect. respectfully, a. j. auten. * * * * * clara bliss hinds, m. d., thirteenth street, n. w. washington, d. c., feb. . my dear sir:--my attention was called to your hygienic underwear during the session of the international medical congress in our city last september. being then in search of underwear, which combined the requisite of warmth, lightness and durability, i determined to try yours, hoping to find an article which i could with confidence recommend. i take pleasure in saying that after wearing the garments four months i find them all i had hoped, and even more. i have recommended them in several cases of uterine trouble, as well as for delicate children, and without an exception the patient improved, which, as other conditions were equal, i know was due to the underwear. maintaining an even warmth over the entire surface of the body the circulation is improved, the various organs respond, and a general improvement in the patient is the result. i unhesitatingly recommend the underwear, and earnestly hope that many physicians may try it in chronic uterine troubles, and in the wasting diseases of childhood, as i feel great good to suffering humanity will come through this agency. respectfully, clara bliss hinds. * * * * * reports--gen'l value o. m. vaughan, m. d. covert, mich., jan. , . jaros hygienic underwear co., chicago, ill. dear sir:--the underwear that i purchased of you has proved entirely satisfactory. i find it just the thing in this climate where sudden changes in the temperature are almost a daily occurrence. i seldom wear an overcoat except when riding. indoors i only wear a light summer coat. the underwear keeps one warm. very respectfully, o. m. vaughan. * * * * * h. a. hamilton, m. d. perrysburg, ohio, feb. , . mr. j. jaros. dear sir:--in every instance in which i have recommended the jaros hygienic underwear it has been highly satisfactory, answering all the indications claimed for it. respectfully, h. a. hamilton. * * * * * casper barstow, m. d. east hartford, conn., jan. , . mr. jaros. dear sir:--after wearing the _jaros hygienic wear_ thus far during the winter, i take pleasure in speaking of its merits. i consider it _the best_ kind of underwear ever made. never having been able to wear any kind of woolen underwear before on account of the irritation it produced, i was made glad when i found that the _jaros hygienic wear_ did nothing of the kind. the principles of the goods is one of the best. i experience no chilly feeling now when going from a heated room and into the cold wind, as i always did with any other underwear. the fitting of the garment is another great feature, it being the same after repeated washing, so unlike any other woolen garments. respectfully yours, casper barstow. * * * * * robt. stevenson & co., and lake street. j. jaros, esq. chicago, dec. st, . dear sir:--two years ago i was prostrated by intercostal neuralgia. my physician--dr. w. h. denslow lewis, of hyde park--prescribed your underwear, which i have worn ever since, both summer and winter. they afford me great comfort, and have thus far warded off all neuralgic symptoms, although my duties compel me to sit in a draft much of the time. sincerely yours, i. giles lewis. * * * * * h. m. bingham, m. d., juneau ave. milwaukee, dec. , . jaros hygienic underwear. co., chicago, ill. gents:--in two cases of chronic disease i have seen a very good effect from the _jaros_ underwear, and i am in the habit of recommending this wear to all my patients, and in lectures to students. h. m. bingham. * * * * * geo. homan, m. d., prof. hygiene, surgeon police department, st. louis. st. louis, mo., jan'y , . j. jaros, esq., chicago, ill. dear sir:--i am enabled by personal experience to testify to the comfort derived from the use of your wear during the cold weather, and that the anticipated objection occurring to me before trial, namely, that the unmixed wool in contact with the skin might prove uncomfortable, has not appeared. in softness and warmth i have never worn any fabric that equals it, while my original impression at first sight in regard to the scientific construction of the principals upon which it is based, has been strengthened by experience. very truly yours, geo. homan. * * * * * r. harvey reed, m. d., surgeon chief, baltimore & ohio r. r. co., secretary state sanitary association, ohio.; treasurer national association railway surgeons. mansfield, o., march , . mr. j. jaros, chicago, ill. dear sir:--from personal experience i find your underwear the most comfortable and the best safeguard from taking cold of anything of the kind i have ever seen. i have no hesitancy whatever in heartily seconding it for railroad employees, police and fire departments, as especially well suited for their use, or any person exposed to the sudden changes of the weather in our climate. yours very truly, r. harvey reed, m. d. * * * * * j. e. harris, m. d. auxvasse, mo., feb. , . jaros hygienic underwear co., chicago, ill. gentlemen;--it gives me great pleasure to say that after having tried your wear i find it affords an admirable protection from cold, and so far as preserving the warmth of the body is concerned, i regard it useful as a prophylactic and therapeutic agent. yours truly, j. e. harris, m. d. * * * * * james collins, m. d., franklin street. philadelphia, pa., feb. , . jaros hygienic underwear co. gentlemen;--it affords me pleasure to state that i have found your underwear elastic, pleasant and durable. especially is this wear indicated where there is a disposition to active perspiration, as the peculiar arrangement of the fibres of the wool prevents the surface of the body from continuing damp and sticky. yours truly, james collins, m. d. * * * * * frank b. golley, m. d., grand avenue. milwaukee, wis., jan. , . jaros hygienic underwear co., chicago, ill. gentlemen;--the underwear purchased of you for use in my family has been a source of great comfort. the usual so called cold taking and chilliness incident to our changeable climate has, i am glad to say, failed to appear since your goods were used. shall recommend them wherever opportunity affords. respectfully, f. b. golley, m. d. * * * * * f. b. kellogg, m. d. new haven, conn., mar. , . i have tried the jaros hygienic wear in my practice and consider it superior to anything i have seen for maintaining the surface of the body at an equable temperature. it is a safeguard against sudden chills, and hence of great service to sensitive temperaments in a changeable climate. yours truly, f. b. kellogg, m. d. * * * * * g. e. abbott, m. d. bryn mawr, pa., feb'y , ' . jaros hygienic underwear co., chicago ill. dear sir:--after careful personal examination, i do not hesitate to recommend your wear. it fulfills the demands of hygiene and of comfort. i have found it of great service as a therapeutic agent in cases in which there is want of nervous or vascular tone--prevalent complaints in this climate. also in chronic diseases and general enfeeblement when it is essential that the peculiar susceptabilities to changeable climatic conditions should be guarded against. yours truly, g. e. abbott, m. d. * * * * * s. d. kennedy, m. d. annapolis, md., july th, . mr. i. jaros. your communication of july st received. in three cases in which i have had occasion to note the use of the "hygienic underwear," it seems to have accomplished all that is claimed for it as a remedial agent. very respectfully, s. d. kennedy. * * * * * asa horr, m. d., main street. dubuque, iowa, may th, . to mr. i. jaros, chicago, ill. your underwear has been prescribed by me in a number of cases in which i considered proper protection important. in rheumatic cases i have found it of special benefit, as also in pulmonary and kidney affections. my decided conviction is that its use will prove materially advantageous in connection with other treatment in such cases. the body is thereby protected from sudden chilling under climatic changes, and that is most important. i shall take pleasure in continuing to prescribe your "hygienic underwear," and hope your further endeavors will meet with the success it deserves. yours very truly, asa horr, m. d. * * * * * h. d. didama, m.d., ll. d., dean of the college of medicine, syracuse university. syracuse, july d, ' . dear mr. jaros. i have commended your hygienic wear because i regard it as the best in the market. it is specially useful for asthmatics, and for those who suffer from bronchial catarrh, because it protects from sudden and often disastrous changes of atmospheric temperature. and then it is so unirritating and comfortable and delightful to the wearer. yours truly, h. d. didama, m.d., ll.d. * * * * * a. l. talmage, m. d., park street. new haven, conn., - - . gentlemen:--the jaros hygienic underwear gives me entire satisfaction, and i cheerfully recommend it. respectfully. a. l. talmage, m. d. * * * * * j. h. tilden. m. d. wichita, kan., feb. , . jaros hygienic underwear co., chicago, ill. gentlemen;--your hygienic wear is all you represent it to be. those for whom i ordered suits are well pleased, and say they will not dispense with same, and signify their intention of ordering again when they need. it is a therapeutic and prophylactic agent, and every one ought to know of your wear, and wear it. respectfully, j. h. tilden, m. d. * * * * * dr. a. crawford. miles, iowa, feb'y , . jaros hygienic underwear co., chicago, ill. gentlemen:--i have this to say about your wear. it has been tested both by myself and a number of my patients, for over two years, and always with the most satisfactory results. the durability of these goods is beyond my expectations. i do not expect to wear any other, nor change in my recommendations while these are on the market. respectfully yours, a. crawford, m. d. * * * * * john w. flick, m. d. honeoye falls, n. y., feb'y . jaros hygienic underwear co., chicago, ill. dear sirs:--while i do not believe in the practice of recommending to others everything or anything you like yourself, i must make an exception to the rule in the case of your hygienic underwear. for years i have had difficulty in finding the right quality of underwear for myself, always trying my best to secure the best in the market, but oftener disappointed than pleased. the goods of your manufacture please me in every respect, and all to whom i have recommended them speak in the highest terms of them. there is no doubt in my mind but that many of our winter diseases and ailments could be avoided, and others easier cured, by the use of these undergarments. you have my best wishes for success. truly yours, j. w. flick, m.d. * * * * * e. l. r. thomson, chapel st. new haven, ct., april , . gentlemen:--permit me to add a word to the many which you have undoubtedly already received in favor of the jaros hygienic underwear. i have worn them for two winters and one summer and am happy to express myself as perfectly satisfied with them, for i find they more fully meet my requirements than any other underwear now upon the market. it is enough for me to say that my experience with them has proven conclusively to me that they possess all the properties ascribed to them by the makers. yours very truly, e. l. r. thomson. * * * * * j. f. merry, general western passenger agent, illinois central ry. manchester, ia., oct. , . jaros hygienic underwear co., chicago. gentlemen:--i am not in the habit of giving testimonials, and as a rule am opposed to any thing of the kind, but after suffering from rheumatism and kindred diseases for several winters, i was persuaded by a friend to try hygienic underwear, and i am compelled to say that from the time i began using them last november until spring i did not have a touch nor a single chill during the entire winter, and i am confident that it was attributable to the use of your underwear, and i have not hesitated to recommend them at every opportunity. yours truly, j. f. merry, gen'l western passenger agent. * * * * * in a letter to a friend, mr. merry wrote at the time of receiving the underwear as follows. manchester, ia., dec. , . going home yesterday to dinner, i found awaiting me a suit of underwear, and i was not very long in putting myself inside of them, but with no idea that i could wear them, having tried almost everything that contained wool, but never having found a garment i could wear next to my skin containing a particle of wool. i have worn the suit for two days without an unpleasant sensation; on the contrary, they are delightful, and just what i needed. please have the following order filled for me. yours truly, j. f. merry. * * * * * geo. p. carpenter, m.d. cedar rapids, ia., may , . i have examined the jaros hygienic underwear, and consider it the most perfect protection from severe cold and changes in temperature that i ever saw. especially will this underwear be useful for those afflicted with rheumatism, lung troubles, or a dry condition of the skin. if the actual use of these goods substantiates the theory i have formed, they will be a valuable aid in the treatment of diseases, as well as to the comfort of the wearers. respectfully, geo. p. carpenter, m.d. to i. jaros. * * * * * among others we refer also to the following medical gentlemen regarding the therapeutic and prophylactic value: dr. adair, j. w., massilon, ohio, " bingham, h. m., milwaukee, wis., " blodgett, youngsville, pa., " barnes, g. w., san diego, cal., " beers, j. e., ithaca, n. y., " barber, l. p., tracy city, tenn., " clements, j. m., oxford, pa., " cleveland, n. b., chicago, ill., " clairebone, herbert, petersburg, va., " crain, m., rutland, vt., " franks, geo. k. burton, w. va., " garth, thomas, clarion, ia., " hollister, chicago, ill., " hood, t. b., washington, d. c., " heizman, c. l. (u. s. a.), west point, n. y., " leeds, l. l., lincoln, ill., " lowring, valpariso, ind., " morgan, dudley, washington, d. c., " moore, a. v., ambia, ind., " porter, m. g., lonaconing, md., " pierce, n. h., chicago, ill., " sutton, k. p., lewisburg, ky., " tye, geo. a., chatham, canada, " vaughan, o. m., coverts, mich., " woodward, a. w., chicago, ill., " weems, e. w., spokane falls, was., " young, h. b., burlington, ia., " yonkey, w. p., rossville, ind., and many others. following reports from equipment branch, u. s. army, pay inspector's department, u. s. navy, police, fire departments, railroad companies, etc. national association fire engineers. proceedings sixteenth annual convention. minneapolis, minn., aug. , , and , . report of committee on exhibits. _to the president and members of the national association fire engineers._ gentlemen: the undersigned committee on exhibits begs leave to submit the following as their report: the jaros hygienic underwear for firemen. underwear is a prime factor in acting as a guard against influences from without, and if of a properly constructed material, must tend much toward raising the efficiency of men in service, and thereby increase the standard of an already progressive department. the material--the jaros hygienic wear--is a combination of unspun wool knitted into the meshes of a spun cotton fiber. this is after the recommendation of most eminent medical scientists in america and europe. the wool unspun, worn next the body, acts as a cutaneous stimulant (guarding against irritation so often apparent with spun fiber), the body temperature being stored between the individual fibers, prevents the cold from directly striking the body from without (acting like double casement windows in a house), and, therefore so valuable when men are forced to sudden changes from in-doors to the cold of out-doors. the wool, again, absorbs moisture from the body, and transports it readily to the outer framework of cotton, thereby protecting against the possibility of wet clothing next the skin to chill the surface at every change in temperature. the cotton framework without, makes the material two-fold in its action; for while the wool has a power of absorption of moisture, the cotton has that of attraction and retention, so that any perspiration exuded from the body is taken up by the cotton from the wool and retained, while any water from without striking the cotton surface is attracted and retained, and prevented from penetrating through to the body. with all this, the material is porous, and does not therefore, retard the poisonous exhalations from passing off. the material is as nearly non-shrinkable as can be claimed of any material, owing to the cotton back, thereby having an underwear which will fit properly at first as well as last. no laps or folds to allow air to circulate next the body are apparent, where the consideration of shrinkage is discarded (which is the case with wear of spun wool, whether knitted or woven.) the wear is also more durable. the cost within the line of good woolen underwear. with a due consideration of all the scientific as well as practical facts and experiences, the surgeon general of the united states army recommended the wear to the quartermaster-general, war department, u. s. army, and the result of experience by men and officers has given this underwear prominent place under the equipments of the northwestern posts. they also point with great pride and satisfaction to the service among police and firemen in such cities where practical application has been made. they feel assured that the consideration of this subject, though comparatively new with the chief officers of our departments, will gain a hearing, with the view of raising the condition of the men. your committee, upon examination, would recommend it for your consideration. very respectfully submitted, chief, providence, r. i. g. a. steere, " macon, ga. l. m. jones, " springfield, mass. a. p. leshure, " new albany, ind. c. t. matthews, " new orleans, la. thos. o'connor, committee. fire department reports chicago fire department. through introduction of dr. o. c. dewolf, commission of health, to chief swenie, of fire dept., the following report was the result with the men of st battalion with the extra heavy fleece wear: john redell, chief of st battalion, c. f. d. fire department of the city of chicago,} chicago, ill., feb. , . } j. jaros, esq.: sir:--having become interested in the results from wearing your underwear by myself and my men, i am pleased to state their own experience, which is satisfactory in _every particular_, as to protection against the cold and changeable temperature; raising the general condition of the body, and maintaining an even temperature under all the trying conditions; does _raise their efficiency_. personally, i can corroborate the good effect from wear, through the most trying conditions. very respectfully, john redell. * * * * * from chicago firemen--captains of companies. this document, signed by captains of different companies, was made for the purpose described, in the interest of the officers and firemen of those and other companies. chicago, june , . jaros hygienic underwear co. gentlemen:--after thorough application of your hygienic underwear for a time sufficiently long to testify to its superiority for firemen during climatic changes in winter, we are satisfied of its filling all claims you make. we are desirous of further adoption, and respectfully beg you to make such arrangements as will gain for us your next season's contract price. thanking you for your endeavors in our interest we have the honor to be yours respectfully, robert palmer, captain engine no. . cornelius manning, " " " . john hennessy, " " " . e. c. anderson, " " " . john fitzgerald, " " " . michael r. driscoll, " " " . michael ehret, " " " . nicholas weinand, " " " . james heaney, " " " . john lynch, " " " . david j. mahoney, " " " . henry greenhoff, " " " . john cook, captain hook and ladder no. . isidore p. smith, " " " " " . patrick doyle, " " " " " . f. j. riess, " " " " " . etc., etc., etc. * * * * * report of fire marshal to the city council of the city of chicago, for the fiscal year ending december , . in the report of chief swenie on the health of department, the following is stated: "compared with previous years the mortality of the department during the past year has been light." * * * * * boston fire department. john w. regan, ass't chief. boston fire department, } boston, may , .} jaros hygienic underwear co., chicago, ill. mr. jaros--dear sir:--there has been so great a progress in the excellence of service in our fire department that it is safe to say we are now at a time when it is necessary to consider matters that will preserve the good condition of our working forces (the firemen). the work you are doing in this direction deserves encouragement with fire departments; for a recount of the value of proper underwear comes strikingly before us after the use of the "jaros hygienic underwear." the experience of our men has been very satisfactory indeed in every manner, protecting against the dangerous influences of the extremes that a fireman must suffer in winter. my first impulse was to consider the claims you made as exaggerated, but a few facts which are my experience will illustrate to you how fully this underwear meets the ideals for protection. i have been a sufferer of rheumatism for many years, contracted in service. since i have worn your underwear it has not troubled me at all, though i have been subjected to trying service the last winter. on saturday evening, the th of october, , i put on your underwear. it was cold and wet, typical new england weather. we had a fire in a six-story building on the water front lasting four hours. i came out of it with the water coming out of the tops of my rubber boots, _completely wetted through_, so that i had to undress in the yard of my dwelling when i got home. no ill effects were the result of that; when otherwise i would have cough, cold, and surely rheumatic attacks. about november th we had a very bad fire and had to fight it three flights before we got to the top, the sixth story. usually i get wet at a fire. in this i did not, but instead i became thoroughly overheated from wearing a very heavy pilot cloth coat and the result was, that i got _sweated through_ and _through_. i did not get home until o'clock in the morning (nearly six hours), but _i felt splendid_. with other underwear, best woolen, i always experienced a cold wet sensation under similar circumstances, down my back, and generally miserable until i could make a change. this i consider the most important test for firemen and i feel more than ever that the "jaros hygienic underwear" fills a long felt want in fire departments. i cheerfully say: i would not be without it and many of our men join me in this and say money cannot buy it from us. wishing you further success in the introduction of a truly meritorious article and one based on scientific principles, i am yours truly, john w. regan, ass't chief. * * * * * new haven, conn., fire department. headquarters new haven fire department,} office, no. city hall.} gentlemen:--the "jaros hygienic underwear" furnished by your firm to a large number of the members of the new haven fire department for winter wear has given very general satisfaction. many of the men who have practically tried them, express themselves highly pleased and state that they would not wear anything else as a substitute if the cost was much higher than what they paid for them. they are no doubt of great value as a protection against the sudden changes in our climate and proof against taking cold. very respectfully, a. c. hendricks, chief fire dept. * * * * * bridgeport, conn., fire department. bridgeport, conn., april , . dear sir:--the "jaros hygienic underwear" furnished by you to myself and the officers and members of the bridgeport, conn., fire department have proved _all_ you recommended of them, and i think no fireman should be without them. respectfully yours, chas. a. gerdenier, chief fire dept. * * * * * city of cleveland, ohio. office board of fire commissioners, august , . a. j. spencer, secretary. mr. i. jaros, new york. dear sir:--a thorough examination of the "jaros hygienic underwear" has proven to me the correctness of the scientific theories upon which it is based. in view of the necessity of a most thorough protection for firemen to guard against the influences of weather and service, i have taken particular interest in going into the details of what this underwear will accomplish. the reports from other departments place this underwear as an important requirement of their clothing, and my impression is that the benefits to men in service in this department will be marked. from the mention made by chief dickinson on the value of this wear my opinion is fully borne out. very respectfully, l. l. travis, m.d., surgeon cleveland fire dept. * * * * * fire commission of detroit, mich. office of the secretary,} august , .} mr. jaros. my dear sir:--in reply to your inquiry relative to the benefits derived by our men from the use of your wear, i beg to state that i have yet to learn of a single case of illness due to exposure of any man who has worn these garments. they were introduced into this department about three years ago, and quite generally adopted by our men. as i have said, our records do not show that a man was obliged to go off duty during any cold months of the year on account of sickness. i know of several who did not get the wear who were ill, and purchased it later on account of the good words said of it by their comrades. the wear is very popular in this department, and from what our men tell me, they prefer it to any other. very truly yours, james e. tryon, secretary. * * * * * fire department, city of st. paul. st. paul, minn, jan. , . mr. i. jaros. dear sir:--the jaros hygienic underwear has been in use with us for last three seasons, and i can highly recommend it to all fire departments, as this underwear is considered by us as the best possible protection against cold and changeable temperatures, which are especially characteristic of this latitude, and its use has resulted in great protection of health and a corresponding increased efficiency, and i find them the most desirable article i have ever seen for the object to be attained. very truly yours, john jackson, chief engineer. * * * * * omaha, neb., fire department. office of chief engineer omaha fire department, } omaha, neb., feb. , .} j. jaros, esq., chicago, ill. dear sir:--with regard to the "jaros hygienic wear," extra heavy fleece, i can say they have given eminent satisfaction among the number of members of the omaha fire department, who have found it very comfortable in the biting blasts of winter, while fighting fire in exposed streets. these impenetrable undergarments are just the necessity for men whose calling keep them out doors in winter and at nights, and they will certainly meet with approval by all who try them in rigorous weather, as they were unanimously commended by my brave fellows in this metropolis of the upper missouri. yours respectfully, j. j. galligan, chief fire dept. * * * * * the underwear has been largely used in the following fire departments, and the reports received from the men are satisfactory. new york city, n. y. brooklyn, n. y. hartford, conn. newark, n. j. detroit, mich. grand rapids, mich. milwaukee, wis. st. paul, minn. minneapolis, minn. evansville, ind. hyde park, ill. town lake, ill. * * * * * police department reports. chicago police department. inspector of police, city of chicago, chicago, january, . on the recommendation of dr. henrotin, surgeon of police and fire departments, to chief and inspector of the chicago police department, the "jaros hygienic underwear" was brought to the notice of the members of the force, and has been used for a number of years with greatest satisfaction. the consideration of personal hygiene to raise the efficiency of policemen, is gaining more general attention by heads of departments, and my personal observation as inspector of this force is corroborative of, the necessity of regarding the question of clothing for officers; especially during the inclement and cold seasons, from october st to april st, when disabilities arise from exposure, which result in pulmonary and kidney troubles and rheumatic affections. the "jaros hygienic underwear" has proven a most efficient guard, raising the condition of the men, and bearing out fully the recommendations of dr. henrotin. my personal experience is corroborative of this. proper underwear makes an overplus of outer clothing, which is debilitating for men in service, unnecessary. i take pleasure in giving my opinion, and the result of experience with our men, and do not doubt that the underwear, when applied, will assert its worth in all the claims that are made for it. john bonfield, inspector of police. * * * * * st. louis police department. office of board of police commissioners, four courts, st. louis, mo., feb. , . chief of police. jaros hygienic underwear co., chicago, ill. dear sirs:--from experience of men now using your wear, it is indeed satisfactory. the wear is all that you claim for it, and cannot fail of further adoption. very truly yours, frank r. tate, secretary. * * * * * st. louis police department. geo. homan, m. d., prof. hygiene. surgeon police department, st. louis. st. louis, mo., january , . j. jaros, esq., chicago, ill. dear sir:--i am enabled by personal experience to testify to the comfort derived from the use of your wear during the cold weather, and that the anticipated objection occurring to me before trial, namely, that the unmixed wool in contact with the skin might prove uncomfortable, has not appeared. in softness and warmth i have never worn any fabric that equals it, while my original impression at first sight in regard to the scientific construction of the principals upon which it is based, has been strengthened by experience. very truly yours, geo. homan, m. d. * * * * * detroit police department. accepted by advice of dr. book, surgeon of police department, to police commissioners, dec. , . james e. pittman, superintendent of police. subject, "jaros hygienic wear." metropolitan police department,} superintendent's office, detroit, mich. april , .} mr. j. jaros, chicago. dear sir:--i take pleasure in stating that the members of this department who used your undergarments (ex. heavy fleece) during the past winter, are unanimous in expressions of approval and satisfaction. they proved to be fully as efficacious for comfort, and protection against cold and change of temperature, as was promised for them. i have no doubt that the use of these garments, which was limited (it being first season) during the past winter, will be greatly extended in this department in the future. respectfully, james e. pittman. * * * * * the detroit departments are now generally using the underwear. the satisfaction and benefits from continued use being more marked. * * * * * washington, d. c., police department. headquarters of the metropolitan police, washington, d. c., sept, , . jaros hygienic underwear co., chicago, ill. gents:--i beg to say, in reply to your inquiry, that the surgeons of this department made a very favorable report upon the underwear of your manufacture. very respectfully, w. g. moore, major and supt. * * * * * minneapolis, minn., police department. minneapolis board of police commissioners, minneapolis, minn., march , . jaros hygienic underwear co., chicago, ill. gentlemen:--i have talked with nearly every man in our department that is using your underwear; also with a number of members of the fire department. every man is emphatic in pronouncing your underwear vastly superior to anything ever used by them before. you will undoubtedly continue placing the goods with our department. personally i wish to say, that i have tried most of the standard makes of underwear, but i never wore anything that gave me such perfect satisfaction and uniform comfort as your goods. this is not written on your solicitation. very respectfully, h. a. norton, sec'y board police commissioners and mayor's sec'y. * * * * * police department of the city of minneapolis. minneapolis, minn., aug. , . (report.) dr. e. s. kelley, surgeon of police. on a recount of the benefits derived by the policemen of our department last winter, i have found a full confirmation of the claims made for the "jaros hygienic underwear." the peculiarly cold and persistent changes of temperature made the last season trying for the physical condition of our officers; added to this a class of winter cholera prevailed here, which was very debilitating. the observations have been that all the men who wore the "jaros hygienic underwear" were free from these attacks, and maintained a normal condition throughout. e. s. kelley, m. d., police surgeon. * * * * * the underwear has been largely used in the following police departments, and the expressions of the men are satisfactory. new york city, n. y. brooklyn, n. y. brooklyn and new york bridge police. newark, n. j. hartford, conn. new haven, conn. st. paul, minn. town lake, ill. chicago park police. * * * * * u.s. army and navy reports. report equipment board, u. s. army. war department, quartermaster general's office,} washington, d. c., sept. , .} board met this day. present:--col. chandler and capt. rodgers. after carefully examining the wool fleece underwear submitted by mr. jaros, of chicago, and having read his testimonials in its favor, the board begs leave to report that this underclothing possesses considerable merit and would, doubtless, prove very acceptable to troops serving in high latitudes. (official copy.) john rodgers, capt. & m. s. k., u. s. a. war department, quartermaster general's office,} washington, d. c., sept. , .} mr. j. jaros, chicago, ill. sir:--in compliance with your request of the th inst., i herewith inclose a copy of the report of the equipment board of this office upon the fleece underwear presented by you for the examination of this department. i have no objection to the publication of said report. very respectfully, your obedient servant, s. b. holabird, quartermaster-gen., u. s. a. * * * * * fort abraham lincoln, dak. john h. page, major th infantry, u. s. a. united states army, war department,} fort abraham lincoln, dakota, jan. , .} mr. j. jaros, chicago, ill. sirs:--your heavy wear i have named "blizzard" underwear, after wearing a suit myself, with the mercury degrees below zero, with a twenty-mile wind, i was perfectly comfortable, and felt a warm glow of the skin during the whole trip. my ambulance driver reports his experience with the thermometer degrees below zero, and in a heavy gale, saying the drawers were much warmer than two pairs of very heavy woolen drawers he had been wearing, and that he did not feel the cold in the slightest degree. we found it washed as well as any woolen goods, and did not shrink. i am fully convinced of the excellent qualities of your goods, and find them doing good service. i will request the other officers to report to you also. very respectfully, john h. page, maj. u. s. a. * * * * * fort meade, dak. capt. f. m. mcdougall, th cavalry, u. s. a. fort mead, dak., nov. , . mr. j. jaros, chicago, ill. dear sir:--the fleece underwear of your make is fulfilling every expectation, and i am personally also deriving the benefits and enjoying its wear. respectfully, f. m. mcdougall, capt. u. s. a. * * * * * office a. a. quartermaster. fort yates, dak., , , . j. jaros, esq., jaros hygienic underwear co., chicago, ill. dear sir:--i can assure you that i am only too happy to furnish you all information you desire relative to your heavy underwear. i have been in this country for several years and have tried all grades of heavy fabric, never found any to meet my wants until i got your goods. your heavy underwear can in no way be surpassed. i have been out in the hardest blizzards known in this country, with the wind at miles, and the mercury at and degrees below zero, but found myself comfortable; felt a warm glow of the skin at all times, and i find it washes as well as any ordinary woolen wear, and does not shrink. i am fully convinced of the excellent qualities of your goods, and find that a great many of my friends and others are _very_ anxious for winter to come again so that they may order. as i find it a protection against all diseases during the cold and damp seasons, having proven this last winter, i will request many of my comrades to report to you also. i am, sir, yours very respectfully, peter brilling, u. s. a. * * * * * u. s. navy, pay inspector's department. u. s. naval academy, annapolis, md., feb. , . gentlemen:--i cannot refrain from expressing to you the great satisfaction and enjoyment i have received from the use of your jaros hygienic underwear during the past winter. i have been almost free from rheumatic pains, from which i have heretofore suffered greatly, and also enjoyed an exception from severe colds, which is a very unusual luxury with me in the winter season; all of which i must attribute to the protection afforded by my hygienics. i am also gratified to find that with the proper care in washing there is no perceptible shrinkage. in short, in every way, i find them the most desirable article i have ever seen for the object to be attained. i shall be so loth to part with them that i hope you will manufacture a lighter grade for summer wear. you are at liberty to make any use you may see fit of my testimony. very truly yours, thos. t. caswell, pay inspector u. s. navy. * * * * * street railway companies. chicago city railway co. c. b. holmes, pres't and supt., state street, chicago, march , . gentlemen:--the "jaros hygienic underwear" has been in use with conductors and gripmen of this company since november , having been recommended by the company's surgeon, dr. d. a. k. steele. we speak for the men in asserting that this underwear is considered the best possible protection against cold and changeable temperatures, which are especially characteristic of this latitude, and its use has resulted in great protection of health and a corresponding increased efficiency. with conductors, whose occupation necessarily prevents the wearing of a very heavy overcoat, it is of great advantage, and gripmen and drivers are enabled to thoroughly protect themselves in their exposed positions without an overplus of clothing, otherwise necessary. the proper protection of men serving in street railway companies is of the greatest importance; since an efficient service in trying weather is largely dependent on their prompt response. we have been pleased to secure for our employees a contract figure on the "jaros hygienic underwear," and feel that the benefits fully justify us in our continuance of this arrangement. respectively yours, c. b. holmes, supt. * * * * * d. a. k. steele, m. d., surgeon and consulting physician, chicago city railway co., ex-president chicago medical society, prof. orthopedic surgery, college of physicians and surgeons of chicago, etc. j. jaros, esq., chicago. chicago, january , . my dear sir:--i have critically examined and practically tested the "jaros hygienic wear," and consider it the best fabric with which i am acquainted, for retaining the animal heat, and preventing chilling of the body by sudden changes of temperature. i consider the heavy wear especially valuable for car drivers, firemen, policemen, or those whose occupation expose them constantly to the inclemency of the weather. through my suggestion to the officials of the cable railway company, many of the grip drivers and conductors are already using this wear with the greatest satisfaction, lessening their risk of "taking cold," and bettering their health and efficiency. very truly yours, d. a. k. steele, m. d. * * * * * west chicago street railway co. chas. f. nagl, superintendent. chicago, march , . gentlemen:--the good reports from drivers and conductors of our company who are wearing the "jaros hygienic underwear," satisfies us that the arrangements made for last season's delivery of the wear have been appreciated. the excellent protection under every change of temperature during the winter months, guards against attacks so frequent with men exposed, of rheumatism, kidney disease, and pulmonary troubles, and all character of ailments resulting from colds. this is too often cause for irregularities with men, which is a loss to them and often an inconvenience to the company. we believe the underwear good, and just the thing for the purposes it is advocated. respectfully, chas. f. nagl, supt. * * * * * railroads.--brotherhood firemen. f. p. sargent, grand master. grand lodge locomotive firemen of north america,} terre haute, ind., march , .} jaros hygienic underwear co., chicago, ill. gentlemen:--i take pleasure in recommending the hygienic underwear. i have been wearing it constantly for the past two winters and i find it not only conducive to comfort but to good health, and i recommend it heartily to any one who desires to be free from chills and rheumatism and to those who are exposed to sudden changes of climate. _railroad_ men will not only find that the jaros underwear gives them comfort but also good health. yours truly, f. p. sargent. * * * * * eugene v. debs, grand sec'y and treas. grand lodge brotherhood of locomotive firemen.} terre haute, ind., feb. , .} jaros hygienic underwear co., chicago, ill. gentlemen:--after two years' experience with your hygienic underwear i take great pleasure in bearing testimony to its worth. it is all you claim for it and i conceive it to be just what every railroad man in the train service should be equipped with, if he has a prudent appreciation of health and comfort. yours very truly, eugene v. debs. * * * * * illinois central railroad company. office of general western passenger agent, } manchester, iowa, october , .} jaros hygienic underwear co., chicago. gentlemen:--i am not in the habit of giving testimonials, and as a rule am opposed to anything of the kind, but after suffering from rheumatism and kindred diseases for several winters, i was persuaded by a friend to try hygienic underwear, and i am compelled to say that from the time i began using them last november until spring i did not have a touch nor a single chill during the entire winter, and i am confident that it was attributable to the use of your underwear, and i have not hesitated to recommend them every opportunity. yours truly, j. f. merry, great western passenger agent. * * * * * j. f. merry, general western passenger agent, illinois central railroad company, office of general western passenger agent,} manchester, iowa, may , .} j. jaros, esq. my dear sir:--i have worn the "jaros hygienic underwear" nearly six months. have not had a cold during the time, nor a sense of chilliness even during the coldest weather. my catarrh has scarcely troubled me at all during the winter, and i would not be without these suits were the cost ten times what it is. you are at liberty to say to railroad men, and others exposed in extreme changes of climate, that they cannot afford to be without the "jaros hygienic underwear." yours truly, j. f. merry. preceding this, mr. merry wrote a friend in dubuque, dated _manchester, ia._, dec. , . going home yesterday to dinner, i found awaiting me a suit of underwear, and i was not very long in putting myself inside of them, but with no idea that i could wear them, having tried almost everything that contained wool, but never having found a garment i could wear next to my skin containing a particle of wool. i have worn the suit for two days without an unpleasant sensation; on the contrary, they are delightful, and just what i needed. please have the following order filled for me. yours truly, j. f. merry. * * * * * railroads.--officials. missouri pacific railroad co. w. r. outten, chief surgeon missouri pacific r. r. co., dean beaumont hospital medical college. st. louis, october, . approved and recommended for use by the engineers, firemen and brakemen of the missouri pacific railroad co., by w. b. outten, m. d., to a. w. dickenson, esq., superintendent. * * * * * baltimore & ohio railroad co. r. harvey reed, m. d., surgeon chief, baltimore & ohio r. r. co., secretary state sanitary association, ohio. mansfield, o., march , . mr. j. jaros, chicago, ill. dear sir:--from personal experience i find your underwear the most comfortable and the best safeguard from taking cold of anything of the kind i have ever seen. i have no hesitation whatever in heartily seconding it for railroad employees, police and fire departments, as especially well suited for their use, or any person exposed to the sudden changes of the weather in our climate. yours very truly, r. harvey reed, m. d. * * * * * reports r. r. engineers, etc. executive committee, legislative board. brotherhood of locomotive engineers, marshalltown, iowa, april , . j. s. millard, secretary. jaros hygienic underwear co., chicago, ill. dear sir:--i received your bowel and kidney band, which i put on promptly, and wore it until a few days ago. to say with flattering results, would be putting it mild. away with electric belts, etc.; what we locomotive engineers want is better, and the proper material in such protectors for our bowels, kidneys and lungs, which are constantly exposed to improper currents of air. since wearing your bowel and kidney band i have had fewer colds and aches than previously, through our severe iowa winters. i cheerfully recommend it to brother engineers as filling a long felt want as a restorative to weak backs, sore lungs, etc. with best wishes for your success, i remain, very respectfully yours, j. s. millard. * * * * * the wabash & western railway co. office general master mechanic, moberly, mo., april , . jaros hygienic underwear co., chicago, ill. dear sir:--i find that your kidney and bowel bands gave general satisfaction to our men who have used them, and hand you enclosed several testimonials. for myself i will say i am greatly pleased with the result of wearing the band. i find that i am not troubled with a very annoying pain in side and back when wearing the band. i like it very much, and shall next winter provide myself with bands and underwear of the same quality. yours truly, a. w. quackenbush, general m. m. * * * * * wabash & western railway co. moberly, mo., april , . to a. w. quackenbush, general m. m. dear sir:--replying to your attached note, will say that i have been wearing the bowel bands for the past three months, and i think they have done me considerable good, and i can safely recommend them to other engineers having cause to use them. yours truly, geo. hager, engineer. * * * * * wabash & western railway co. moberly, mo., april , . a. w. quackenbush, m. m. dear sir:--in regard to the bowel and kidney band i will say, i have given it good use, and think it is doing me much good, as i have had no trouble with my kidneys since wearing it. yours respectfully, w. l. dubois, engineer. * * * * * many other reports confirm the above. * * * * * surgeons. switchmen's mutual aid association, of north america. office of the grand lodge, e. p. murdock, m.d., grand medical examiner. chicago, ill., january th, . dr. i. jaros. i have very carefully examined and tested the "jaros hygienic wear," and i find it the best hygienic wear manufactured. it is so constructed as to conduct the moisture away from the body, thus retaining even temperature, and preventing chilling of the surface by sudden changes. the heavy will be especially adapted to switchmen and other railway employees who are greatly exposed to the weather where cumbersome overclothing is not only undesirable, but positively dangerous, as such heavy outside garments impede their movements, and thus place them in danger of accidents. i especially recommend this wear to railway employees as a means of comfort, safety and health. very truly, e. p. murdock, grand medical examiner, switchmen's association. * * * * * paul boyton, world famed swimmer. cleveland avenue, chicago, april , . dear sir:--you are acquainted with the history of my accidently learning of your underwear, and know the many doubts i had while purchasing. i have given the garments the severest tests possible to satisfy myself whether the goods were really what i so much needed, and would hold out in the claims you made. i have bought the best woolen and heaviest silk underwear in prominent cities where i have travelled, abroad as well as in this country, with the special view of getting something that would protect me while in my rubber dress, on the long, cold and damp voyages i make. the exercise and heavy rubber suit which i wear often cause active perspiration, and my observation has been that from one to one and a half pounds of moisture is thrown off during an exhibition lasting from one and a half to two hours. with all other kind of underwear, this moisture was taken up only partially, the garments becoming thoroughly wet, and causing a chilling which was always hard for me to overcome; in fact, after these aquatic exhibitions, i found it absolutely necessary to be well rubbed to draw the blood to the surface and produce reaction, to prevent trouble. i speak of other underwear to give you an idea of this action, and the difference in the body under trying conditions. your wool i found admirably selected and prepared, and so incorporated to act quickly and absorb the moisture thrown off. my experience is that the "_jaros hygienic underwear_" does not only relieve the body of perspiration, but also carries it to the cotton framework outside, which thoroughly retains it, thereby keeping the wool inside perfectly dry. since i began to use the underwear, i have never felt the chilling which had always affected me with other underclothing, and i do not find rubbing after an exhibition necessary. i have no trace of rheumatic pain, and i feel physically much better. the difference in the amount of perspiration seems to me marked, which i attribute to the fact that the body temperature remains more nearly the same. i am so well pleased with your underwear, that i use it for general wear as well, and find every point you have claimed to be realized in its use. in conclusion, i can say, that your underwear is a boon and blessing to men exposed as sailors, firemen, soldiers, and as well as the general public. wishing you the success you deserve, i remain, yours very respectfully, paul boyton. * * * * * we refer with permission to the following chiefs of fire departments, who use and recommend this wear for its value in department service: chief hughes fire dep't, louisville, ky. " lemoine " grand rapids, mich. " evans " pittsburgh, pa. " stettson " minneapolis, minn. " fowley " milwaukee, wis. " lindsay " st. louis, mo. " bentley " eaton rapids, mich. " kiersted " newark, n. j. etc., etc., etc. * * * * * r. r. surgeons. the following surgeons have recommended the "jaros hygienic wear" to the employees. dr. j. w. jackson, kansas city, mo., chief surgeon. wabash & western r. r. co. dr. r. harvey reed, mansfield, o., chief surgeon. baltimore & ohio r. r. co. dr. w. b. outen, st. louis, mo., chief surgeon. missouri pacific r. r. co. dr. j. h. murphy, st. paul, minn., chief surgeon. northern pacific r. r. co. dr. w. r. nugent, oskaloosa, ia., chief surgeon. central iowa r. r. co. dr. j. w. sanders, broken bow, neb., chief surgeon. chicago, burlington & quincy r. r. co. and others. * * * * * transcriber's notes typographical errors have been silently corrected and hyphenation standardised. variations in spelling and punctuation are as in the original. the author has used hydroscopic in place of hygroscopic throughout. on page qualitive replaced by qualitative. in the testimonial on page beginning "i am much impressed with (the value) of", the words in brackets are illegible in the original. the correction is taken from the same testimonial on page . the layouts of the terminal salutations in the testimonials are highly varied in the original. they have been standardised. in the testimonials section, the author used page headings to describe the source of the testimonials on the page (i.e. r. r. surgeons.). these headings have been placed at the beginning of each set of testimonials. the original volume has no table of contents. this has been added. italics are represented thus, _italic_. file was produced from images generously made available by the internet archive.) dealings with the dead. [illustration] [illustration: dealings with the dead, by a sexton of the old school. dutton & wentworth. boston, .] dealings with the dead. by a sexton of the old school. volume i. boston: published by dutton and wentworth, and congress street: and ticknor and fields, corner of washington and school streets. mdccclvi. "the burial service." this is a very solemn service, when it is properly performed. when i was a youngster, grossman was sexton of trinity church, and parker was bishop. never were two men better calculated to give the true effect to this service. the bishop was a very tall, erect person, with a deep, sonorous voice; and, in the earth-to-earth part, grossman had no rival. i used to think, then, it would be the height of my ambition to fill grossman's place, if i should live to be a man. when i was eight years old, i sometimes, though it frightened me half to death, dropped in, as an amateur, when there was a funeral at trinity. i am not, on common occasions, in favor of reviving the old way of performing a considerable part of the service, under the church, among the vaults. the women, and feeble, and nervous people will go down, of course; and getting to be buried becomes contagious. it does them no good, if they don't catch their deaths. but, as things are now managed, the most solemn part of the service is made quite ridiculous. in , i was at a funeral, under trinity church. i went below with the mourners. the body was carried into a dimly-lighted vault. i was so small and short, that i could see scarcely anything. but the deep, sepulchral voice of mr. parker--he was not bishop then--filled me with a most delightful horror. i listened and shivered. at length he uttered the words, "earth to earth," and grossman, who did his duty, marvellously well, when he was sober, rattled on the coffin a whole shovelful of coarse gravel--"ashes to ashes"--another shovelful of gravel--"dust to dust"--another: it seemed as if shovel and all were cast upon the coffin lid. i never forgot it. my way home from school was through summer street. returning often, in short days, after dusk, i have run, at the top of my speed, till i had gotten as far beyond trinity, as tommy russell's, opposite what now is kingston street. a great change has taken place, since i became a sexton. i suppose that part of the service is the most solemn, where the body is committed to the ground; and it is clearly a pity, that anything should occur, to lessen the solemnity. as soon as the minister utters the words, "forasmuch as it hath pleased almighty god," &c., the coffin being in the broad aisle, the sexton, now-a-days, steps up to the right of it, and makes ready by stooping down, and picking up a little sand, out of a box or saucer--a few more words, and he takes aim--"earth to earth," and he fires an insignificant portion of it on to the coffin--"ashes to ashes," and he fires another volley--"dust to dust," and he throws the balance, commonly wiping his hand on his sleeve. there is something, insufferably awkward, in the performance. i heard a young sexton say, last week, he had rather bury half the congregation, than go through this comic part. there is some grace, in the action of a farmer, sowing barley; but there is a feeling of embarrassment, in this miserable illustration of casting in the clods upon the dead, which characterizes the performance. the sexton commonly tosses the sand on the coffin, turning his head the other way, and rather downward, as if he were sensible, that he was performing an awkward ceremony. for myself, i am about retiring, and it is of little moment to me. but i hope something better will be thought of. what would poor old grossman say! a sexton of the old school. dealings with the dead. by a sexton of the old school. no. i. throw aside whatever i send you, if you do not like it, as we throw aside the old bones, when making a new grave; and preserve only what you think of any value--with a slight difference--you will publish it, and we shouldn't. i was so fond of using the thing, which i have now in my hand, when a boy, that my father thought i should never succeed with the mattock and spade--he often shook his head, and said i should never make a sexton. he was mistaken. he was a shrewd old man, and i got many a valuable hint from him. "abner," said he to me one day, when he saw me bowing, very obsequiously, to a very old lady, "don't do so, abner; old folks are never pleased with such attentions, from people of your profession. they consider all personal approaches, from one of your fraternity, as wholly premature. it brings up unpleasant anticipations." father was right; and, when i meet a very old, or feeble, or nervous gentleman, or lady, i always walk fast, and look the other way. sextons have greatly improved within the last half century. in old times, they kept up too close an intimacy with young surgeons; and, to keep up their spirits, in cold vaults, they formed too close an alliance with certain evil spirits, such as gin, rum, and brandy. we have greatly improved, as a class, and are destined, i trust, to still greater elevation. a few of us are thinking of getting incorporated. i have read--i read a great deal--i have carried a book, of some sort, in my pocket for fifty years--no profession loses so much time, in mere waiting, as ours--i have read, that the barbers and surgeons of london were incorporated, as one company, in the time of henry viii. there is certainly a much closer relation, between the surgeons and sextons, than between the barbers and surgeons, since we put the finishing hand to their work. and as every body is getting incorporated now-a-days, i see no good reason against our being incorporated, as a society of sextons and surgeons. and then our toils and vexations would, in some measure, be solaced, by pleasant meetings and convivial suppers, at which the surgeons would cut up roast turkeys, and the sextons might bury their sorrows. when sextons have no particular digging to do, out of doors, it seems well enough for them to dig in their closets. there is a great amount of information to be gained from books, particularly adapted to their profession, some of which is practical, and some of which, though not of that description, is of a much more profitable character than police reports of rapes and murders, or the histories of family quarrels, or interminable rumors of battles and bloodshed. there is a learned blacksmith; who knows but there may spring up a learned sexton, some of these days. the dealings with the dead, since the world began, furnish matter for curious speculation. what has seemed meet and right, in one age or nation, has appeared absurd and even monstrous in another. it is also interesting to contemplate the many strange dispositions, which certain individuals have directed to be made, in regard to their poor remains. men, who seem not to have paid much attention to their souls, have provided, in the most careful and curious manner, for the preservation of their miserable carcasses. it may also furnish matter for legitimate inquiry, how far it may be wise, and prudent, and in good taste, to carry our love of finery into the place, appropriated for all living. aristocracy among the dead! what a thought. sumptuary considerations are here involved. the rivalry of the tomb! the pride--not of life--but of death! how frequently have i seen, especially among the irish, the practice of a species of pious fraud upon the baker and the milk man, whose bills were never to be paid, while all the scrapings of the defunct were bestowed upon the "birril!" the principle is one and the same, when men, in higher walks, put costly monuments over the ashes of their dead, and their effects into the hands of assignees. and then the pageantry and grandiloquence of the epitaph! in the course of fifty years, what outrageous lies i have seen, done in marble! perhaps i may say something of these matters--perhaps not. no. ii. closing the eyes of the dead and composing the mouth were deemed of so much importance, of old, that agamemnon's ghost made a terrible fuss, because his wife, clytemnestra, had neglected these matters, as you will see, in your odyssey, l. v. v. . it was usual for the last offices to be performed by the nearest relatives. after washing and anointing the body, the guests covered it with the _pallium_, or common cloak--the romans used the _toga_--the hebrews wrapped the body in linen. virgil tells us, that misenus was buried, in the clothes he commonly wore. membra toro deffeta reponunt, purpureasque super vestes velamina nota conjiciunt. this would seem very strange with us; yet it is usual in some other countries, at this day. i have often seen the dead, thus laid out, in santa cruz--coat, neckcloth, waistcoat, pantaloons, boots, and gloves. i was never a sexton there, but noted these matters as an amateur. chaplets and flowers were cast upon the dead, by the greeks and romans. the body was exhibited, or laid in state, near the entrance of the house, that all might see there had been no foul play. while thus lying, it was carefully watched. the body of every man, who died in debt, at athens, was liable to be seized by creditors. miltiades died in jail. his son, cimon, could not pay his father's debts; he therefore assumed his debts and fetters, that his father might have funeral rites. some time before interment, a piece of money, an _obolus_, was put in the mouth of the corpse, as charon's fee. in the mouth was also placed a cake, made of flour and honey, to appease cerberus. instead of crape upon the knocker, some of the hair of the deceased was placed upon the door, to indicate a house of mourning. a vessel of water was placed before the door, until the corpse was removed, that all who touched the dead might wash therein. this is in accordance with the jewish usage. achilles was burnt on the eighteenth day after his death. the upper ten thousand were generally burnt on the eighth, and buried on the ninth. common folks were dealt with more summarily. when ready for the pile, the body was borne forth on a bier. the lacedemonians bore it on shields. the athenians celebrated their obsequies before sunrise. funerals, in some of our cities, are celebrated in the morning. the greeks and romans were very extravagant, like the irish. if baked meats and chian and falernian cost less than in more modern times--still sumptuary laws were found necessary. pittacus made such, at mytelene. the women crowded so abominably, at the funerals in athens, that solon excluded all women, under threescore years, from gadding after such ceremonies. robes of mourning were sometimes worn; not always. thousands followed the bodies of timoleon and aratus, in white garments, bedecked with garlands, with songs of triumph and dances, rejoicing, that they were received into elysium. after the funeral, they abstained from banquets and entertainments. admetus says they avoided whatever bore an air of mirth or pleasure, for some time. they sequestered themselves from company. it is particularly stated, by archbishop potter, that "_wine was too great a friend of cheerfulness to gain admission into so melancholy a society_." if old hundred had been known to the jews, it would, i dare say, have been considered highly appropriate--but their good taste was such, that i much doubt, if, in the short space of eight and forty hours, they would have mingled _sacra profanis_, so very comically, as to bring champagne and old hundred together. the greek mourners often cut off their hair, and cast it upon the funeral pile. this custom was also followed by the romans. they sometimes threw themselves upon the ground, to express their sorrow. like some of the eastern nations, they put ashes upon their heads. they beat their breasts, tore their flesh, and scratched their faces, with their nails. for this, dionysius says, the women were more remarkable, than the men. burning and embalming, the latter of which was a costly business, were practised among the greeks and romans; the latter much more frequently, among the eastern nations. we talk of getting these matters thoroughly discussed, ere long, before the sextons' board, to see if it may not be well, to bring them into use again. i will send you the result. in regard to the use of wine and other intoxicating drinks, at funerals, we much more closely resemble the lacedemonians now, than we did some thirty years ago. when i was a boy, and was at an academy in the country, everybody went to everybody's funeral, in the village. the population was small--funerals rare--the preceptor's absence would have excited remark, and the boys were dismissed, for the funeral. a table with liquors was always provided. every one, as he entered, took off his hat, with his left hand, smoothed down his hair, with his right, walked up to the coffin, gazed upon the corpse, made a crooked face, passed on to the table, took a glass of his favorite liquor, went forth upon the plat, before the house, and talked politics, or of the new road, or compared crops, or swapped heifers or horses, until it was time to lift. twelve years ago, a clergyman of newburyport told me, that, when settled in concord, n. h., some years before, he officiated at the funeral of a little boy. the body was borne, as is quite common, in a chaise, and six little nominal pall-bearers, the oldest not thirteen, walked by the side of the vehicle. before they left the house, a sort of master of ceremonies took them to the table, and mixed a tumbler of gin, water and sugar, for each. there is in this city a worthy man--i shall not name him--the doctor's and the lawyer's callings are not more confidential than ours. he used to attend every funeral, as an amateur. he took his glass invariably, and always had some good thing to say of the defunct. "a great loss," he would say, with a sad shake of his head, as he turned off the heel-tap. i have not seen him at a funeral, for several years. we met about five months ago. "ah, mr. abner," said he, "temperance has done for funerals." no. iii. the board of sextons have met, and we have concluded not to recommend a revival of the ancient custom of burning the dead. it would be very troublesome to do it, out of town, and inconvenient in the city. i have always thought it wrong to bury in the city; and it would be much worse to burn there. the first law of the tenth table of the romans is in these words--"let no dead body be interred or burnt within the city." something may be got to help pay for a church, by selling tombs below. when a church was built here, some years ago, an eminent physician, one of the proprietors, was consulted and gave his sanction. yet more than one of our board is very sure, that, on a warm, close sunday, in the spring, he has snuffed up something that wasn't particularly orthodox, in that church. the old romans were very careful of the rights of their fellows, in this respect: the twelfth law of the tenth table runs thus--"let no sepulchre be built, or funeral pile raised within sixty feet of any house, without the consent of the owner of that house." they certainly conducted matters with great propriety, avoiding extravagance and intemperance, as appears by the seventh law of the same table--"let no slaves be embalmed; let there be no drinking round a dead body; nor any perfumed liquors be poured upon it." so also the second law--"let all costliness and excessive waitings be banished from funerals." the women were so very troublesome upon these occasions, that a special law, the fifth, was made for their government--"let not the women tear their faces, or disfigure themselves, or make hideous outcries." it was not unusual for one person to have several funerals: to prevent this, however agreeable to the roman undertakers, the tenth law of the tenth table was made--"let no man have more than one funeral, or more than one bed put under him." there was also a very strange practice during the first decemvirate; the friends often abstracted a finger of the deceased, or some part of the body, and performed fresh obsequies, in some other place; erecting there a _cenotaph_ or _empty_ sepulchre, in which they fancied the ghost of the departed took occasional refuge, when wandering about--in case of a sudden shower, perhaps; or being caught out too near daylight. for the correction of this folly, the decemvirs passed the sixth law of the tenth table--"let not any part of a dead body be carried away, in order to perform other obsequies for the deceased, unless he died in war, or out of his own country." it was upon such occasions as these, in which an empty form was observed, and no actual inhumation took place, that the practice of throwing three handsful of earth originated. this usage was practised also by the jews, and has come down to modern times. baron rothschild (nathan meyer) who died in frankfort, july , , was buried in the ground of the synagogue, in duke's place, london. his sons, lionel, anthony, nathaniel, and meyer, his brother-in-law, mr. montefiore, and his ancient friend, mr. samuels, at the age of ninety-six, commenced the service of filling up the grave,--by casting in, each one of them, three handsful of earth. not satisfied with carrying a bottle of sal volatile to funerals, the women, and even the men, were in the habit of carrying pots of essences, which occasioned the enactment of the eighth law--"let no crowns, festoons, perfuming pots, or any kind of perfume be carried to funerals." burning or interring was adopted, by the ancients, at the will of the relatives. this is manifest from the eleventh law, which prohibits the use of gold in all obsequies, with a single exception--"let no gold be used in any obsequies, unless the jaw of the deceased has been tied up with a gold thread. in that case the corpse may be _interred_ or _burnt_, with the gold thread." a large quantity of silver is annually buried with the dead. it finds its way up again, however, in the course of time. common as burning was, among the ancients, it was looked upon, by some, with great abhorrence. the body to be burned was placed upon a pile--if the body of a person of quality, one or more slaves or captives were burned with it. when not forbidden, all sorts of precious ointments and perfumes were poured upon the corpse. the favorite dogs and horses of the defunct were cast upon the pile. homer tells us, that four horses, two dogs, and twelve trojan captives were burnt upon the pile, with the dead body of patroclus. the corpses, that they might consume the sooner, were covered with the fat of beasts. some near relative lighted the pile, uttering prayers to boreas and zephyrus to increase the flame. the relatives stood around, calling on the deceased, and pouring on libations of wine, with which they finally extinguished the flames, when the pile was well burnt down. they then collected the bones and ashes. how they were ever able to discriminate between men, dogs, and horses, it is hard to say. probably the whole was sanctified, in their opinion, by juxtaposition. the bones might be distinguished, but not the dust. such bones as could be identified, were washed and anointed _by the nearest relatives_. what an office! how custom changes the complexion of such matters! these relics were then placed in urns of wood, stone, earth, silver, or gold, according to the quality of the parties. where are these memorials now! these myriads of urns! they were deposited in tombs--of which a very perfect account may be found in the description of the street of tombs, at pompeii. no. iv. the greeks, when interment was preferred to burning, placed the body in the coffin, as is done at present, deeming it safer for the defunct to look upwards. to ridicule this superstition, diogenes requested, that his body might be placed face downward, "for the world, erelong," said he, "will be turned upside down, and then i shall come right." the feet were placed towards the east. those, who were closely allied, were buried together. the epitaph of agathias, on the twin brothers, is still preserved-- "two brothers lie interred within this urn, they died together, as together born." "they were lovely and pleasant in their lives," said david, of saul and jonathan, "and, in death, they were not divided." plato says, that the early greeks buried their dead, in their own houses. there was a law in thebes, that no person should build a house, without providing a repository for the dead therein. an inconvenient fashion this. in after-times they buried out of the city, and generally by the way-side. hence, doubtless, arose the very common appeal, on their tablets--_siste viator!_ on the road from cape ann harbor to sandy bay, now rockport, are a solitary grave and a monument--the grave of one, who chanced there to die. our graveyards are usually on the roadside. sometimes a common _cart-path_ is laid out, through an ancient burying-ground. such is the case in uxbridge, in this commonwealth. this is vandalism. sextons, who have had long experience, are of opinion, that the rights of the living and the decencies of life are less apt to be maintained, wherever the ashes of the dead are treated with disrespect. burying, by the road-side, has been said to have been adopted, for the purpose of inspiring travellers with thoughts of mortality--travellers in railway cars, perhaps! the first time i visited st. peter's, in philadelphia, i was much impressed with the tablets and their inscriptions, lying level with the floor of the church, and vertical, i supposed, to the relics below--but i soon became familiar, and forgetful. every family, among the greeks, who could afford it, had its own proper burying-ground--as is the case, at the present day, in our own country, among the planters and others, living far apart from any common point. this might be well enough, where the feudal system prevailed, and estates, by the law of descent, continued long in families. if the old usage were now in vogue, in new york, for instance, what a carting about of family urns there would be, on may day! estates will pass from man to man, and strangers become the custodiers of the dead friends and relatives of the alienors. it is not unusual to find, on such occasions, a special clause, in the conveyance, for their protection, and for the perpetual _tabooing_ of the place of sepulture. the first graves of the greeks were mere caverns or holes; but, in later times, they were capacious rooms, vaulted and paved--so large, indeed, that in some instances, the mourners assembled and remained in them, for days and nights together. monuments of some sort were of very early date; so were inscriptions, containing the names, ages, virtues, and actions of the deceased, and the emblems of their calling. diogenes had the figure of a snarling cur engraved upon his tablet. lycurgus put an end to what he called "talkative gravestones." he even forbade the inscription of the names, unless of men who died in battle, or women in childbed. extravagance was, at one time, so notorious, in these matters, that leon forbade the erection of any mausoleum, which could not be erected by ten men, in three days. in greece and rome, panegyrics were often pronounced at the grave. games were sometimes instituted in honor of the eminent dead. homer tells us that agamemnon's ghost and the ghost of achilles had a long talk upon this subject, telling over the number they had attended. after the funeral was over, the company met at the house of some near relative, to divert their sorrow; and, notwithstanding the abstemiousness of the lacedemonians, they had, i am compelled to believe, what is commonly called a good time. the word, used to designate this kind of gathering, _perideipnon_, indicates a very social meeting--cicero translates this word _circumpotatio_. embalming was most in use with the egyptians, and the process is described by herodotus and diodorus. the brain was drawn through the nostrils with an iron scoop, and the void filled with spices. the entrails were removed, and the abdomen filled with myrrh and cassia. the body was next pickled in nitre, for seventy days, and then enveloped in bandages of fine linen and gums. among the repositories of the curious, are bodies embalmed some thousands of years ago. according to herodotus, the place for the first incision having been indicated, by the priest, the operator was looked upon, with as much disgust, as we exhibit towards the common hangman,--for, no sooner had he hastily made the incision, than he fled from the house, and was immediately attacked with stones, by the bystanders, as one, who had violated the dead. rather an undesirable office. after being embalmed, the body was placed in a box of sycamore wood, carved to resemble the human form. the story of diogenes, who desired to be buried face downward, reminds me of one, related by old grossman, as we were coming, many years ago, from the funeral of an old lady, who had been a terrible termagant. she resembled, old grossman said, a perfect fury of a woman, whose husband insisted upon burying her, face downward; and, being asked the reason, for this strange procedure, replied--"the more she scratches the deeper she goes." no. v. nil de mortuis nisi bonum. you will wonder where i got my latin. if my profession consisted of nothing but digging and filling up--dust to dust, and ashes to ashes--i would not give a fig for it. to a sexton of any sentiment it is a very different affair. i have sometimes doubted, if it might not be ranked among the fine arts. to be sure, it is rather a melancholy craft; and for this very reason i have tried to solace myself, with the literary part of it. there is a great amount, of curious and interesting reading upon these marble pages, which the finger of time is ever turning over. i soon found, that a large part of it was in the latin tongue, and i resolved to master so much of it, as impeded my progress. i have found, that many superb things are said of the defunct, in latin, which no person, however partial, would venture to say, in plain english. the latin proverb, at the head of this article, i saw, on the gravestone of a poor fellow, who was killed, by a sort of devil incarnate, in the shape of a rumseller, though some persons thought he was worried to death, by moral suasion. _nothing of the dead but what is good_: well, i very much doubt the wisdom of this rule. the egyptians doubted it; and their kings were kept in order, through a fear of the sentence to be passed upon their character and conduct, by an assembly of notables, summoned immediately after their decease. montaigne says it is an excellent custom, and to be desired by all good princes, who have reason to be offended, that the memories of the wicked should be treated with the same respect, as their own. in england and our own commonwealth, we have, legislatively, repudiated this rule, in one instance, at least, until within a few years. i refer to the case of suicide. instead of considering the account balanced by death, and treating the defunct with particular tenderness, because he was dead, the sheriff was ordered to bury the body of every person, _felo de se_, at the central point where four roads met, and to run a stake through his body. this, to say nothing of its cheating our brotherhood out of burial fees, seems a very awkward proceeding. there is a pleasant tale, related of sheriff bradford, which i may repeat, without marring the course of these remarks. mr. bradford was the politest sheriff, that we ever had in suffolk, not excepting sheriff sumner. sheriff bradford was a real gentleman, dyed in the wool. it did one's heart good to see him serve an attachment, or levy an execution. instead of knocking one down, and arresting him afterwards, mr. bradford made a pleasant affair of it. it actually seemed, as if he employed a sort of official ether, which took away the pain--he used, while placing his bailiff in a lady's drawing-room, to bow and smile, so respectfully and sympathizingly; and, in a sotto voice, to talk so very clerically, of the instability of human affairs. an individual, within the sheriff's precinct, cut his own throat. an officious neighbor, who was rather curious to see the stake part performed, brought tidings to mr. bradford, while at breakfast. the informant ventured to inquire, at what time the performances would commence. at five o'clock precisely, this afternoon, the sheriff replied. he instantly dispatched a deputy to the son of the defunct, with a note, full of the most respectful expressions of condolence, and informing him, that the law required the sheriff to run a stake through his father's body, _if to be found within his precinct_, and adding that he should call with the stake, at p. m. the body was, of course, speedily removed, and _non est inventus_ was the end of the whole matter. civilization advanced--several of the upper ten thousand cut their throats, or blew their brains out; and it would have been troublesome to carry out the provisions of the law, and cost something for stakes. the law was repealed. some sort of ignominious sepulture, for self-murderers, was in vogue, long ago. plato speaks of it, de legibus lib. ix., p. . the attempt to shelter mankind from deserved reproach, by putting complimentary epitaphs upon their gravestones, is very foolish. it commonly produces an opposite effect. one would think these names were intended as a hint, for the devil, when he comes for his own--a sort of _passover_. i am inclined to think, if a grand inquest of any county were employed, to discover the last resting places of their neighbors and fellow-citizens, having no other guide, but their respective epitaphs, the names and dates having been previously removed or covered up, that inquest would be very much at a loss, in the midst of such exalted virtues, and supereminent talents, and extraordinary charities, and unbroken friendships, and great public services. some inscriptions are, perhaps, too simple. in the burying-ground at the corner of arch and sixth streets, philadelphia, and very near that corner, lies a large flat slab, with these words: "benjamin and deborah franklin, ." in exeter, n. h., i once read an epitaph in the graveyard, near the railroad depot, in these words: "henry's grave." pope's epitaph, in the garden of lord cobham, at stow, on his lordship's italian friend, was, doubtless, well-deserved, though savoring of panegyric: to the memory of signor fido, an italian of good extraction, who came into england not to bite us, like most of his countrymen, but to gain an honest livelihood. he hunted not after fame, yet acquired it. regardless of the praise of his friends, but most sensible of their love, though he lived among the great, he neither learned nor flattered any vice. he was no bigot, though he doubted not the articles. and, if to follow nature, and to respect the laws of society be philosophy, he was a perfect philosopher, a faithful friend, an agreeable companion, a loving husband, distinguished by a numerous offspring, all which he lived to see take good courses. in his old age he retired to the house of a clergyman, in the country, where he finished his earthly race, and died an honor and an example to the whole species. reader this stone is guiltless of flattery; for he, to whom it is inscribed, was not a man but a greyhound. no. vi. it could not have been particularly desirable to be the cook, or the concubine, or the cup-bearer, or the master of the horse, or the chamberlain, or the gentleman usher of a scythian king, for herodotus tells us, book , page , that every one of these functionaries was strangled, upon the body of the dead monarch. castellan, in his account of the turkish empire, says, that a dying turk is laid on his back, with his right side towards mecca, and is thus interred. a chafing-dish is placed in the chamber of death, and perfumes burnt thereon. the imam reads the thirty-sixth chapter of the koran. when death has closed the scene, a sabre is laid upon the abdomen, and the next of kin ties up the jaw. the corpse is washed with camphor, wrapped in a white sheet, and laid upon a bier. the burial is brief and rapid. the body is never carried to the mosque. unlike the solemn pace of our own age and nation, four bearers, who are frequently relieved, carry the defunct, almost on a run, to the place of interment. over the bier is thrown a pall; and, at the head, the turban of the deceased. women never attend. mourning, as it is called, is never worn. christians are not permitted to be present, at the funeral of a mussulman. it is not lawful to walk over, or sit upon, a grave. a post mortem examination is never allowed, unless the deceased is so near confinement, that there may be danger of burying the living with the dead. the corpse is laid naked in the ground. the imam kneels in prayer, and calls the name of the deceased, and the name of his mother, thrice. the cemeteries of the turks are without the city, and thickly planted with trees, chiefly cypress and evergreens. near constantinople there are several cemeteries--the most extensive are at scutari, on the asiatic side of the bosphorus. there, as here, marble columns designate the graves of the eminent and wealthy, but are surmounted with sculptured turbans. the inscriptions are brief and simple. this is quite common: "_this world is transient and perishable--today mine--tomorrow thine_." the funeral ceremonies of the hindoos are minute, trivial, and ridiculous, in the extreme. a curious account may be found, in the asiatic researches, vol. , page . formal, or nominal obsequies are performed, says mr. colebrooke, not less than ninety-six times, in every year, among the hindoos. we do, for the dead, that, which we would have done for ourselves. the desire of making a respectable corpse is quite universal. it has been so, from the days of greece and rome, to the present. such was the sentiment, which caused the romans to veil those, whose features were distorted in death, as in the case of scipio africanus: such obsequies were called _larvata funera_. such has ever been the feeling, among the civilized and the savage. such was the opinion of pope's narcissa, when she exclaimed-- one need not sure be ugly, though one's dead; and betty, give this cheek a little red. the roman female corpses were painted. so are the corpses of the inhabitants of the polynesian islands, and of new zealand. when a new zealand chieftain dies, says mr. polack, the relatives and friends cut themselves with muscle shells, and let blood profusely, because they believe that ghosts, and especially royal ghosts, are exceedingly partial to this beverage. the body is laid out by the priests. the head is adorned with the most valued feathers of the albatross. the hair is anointed with shark oil, and tied, at the crown, with a riband of _tapa_. the lobes of the ears are ornamented with bunches of white, down, from the sea-fowl's breast, and the cheeks are embellished with red ochre. the brow is encircled with a garland of pink and white flowers of the _kaikatoa_. mats, wove of the silken flax, are thrown around the body, which is placed upright. skulls of enemies, slain in battle, are ranged at its feet. the relics of ancestors, dug up for the occasion, are placed on platforms at its head. a number of slaves are slaughtered, to keep the chieftain company. his wives and concubines hang and drown themselves, that they also may be of the party. the body lies in state, three or four days. the priests flourish round it, with wisps of flax, to keep off the devil and all his angels. the _pihe_, or funeral song, is then chanted, which i take to be the old hundred of the new zealanders, very much resembling the _noenia_, or funereal songs of the romans. at last, the body is buried, with the favorite mats, muskets, trinkets, &c., of the deceased. the mandans, of the upper missouri, never inhume or bury their dead, but place their bodies, according to mr. catlin, on light scaffolds, out of the reach of the wolves and foxes. there they decay. this place of deposit is without the village. when a mandan dies, he is painted, oiled, feasted, supplied with bow, arrows, shield, pipe and tobacco, knife, flint, steel, and food, for a few days, and wrapped tightly, in a raw buffalo hide. the corpse is then placed upon the scaffold, with its feet to the rising sun. an additional piece of scarlet cloth is thrown over the remains of a chief or medicine man. this cemetery is called, by the mandans, the village of the dead. here the mandans, especially the women, give daily evidence of their parental, filial, and conjugal devotion. when the scaffold falls, and the bones have generally decayed, the skulls are placed in circles, facing inwards. the women, says mr. catlin, are able to recognize the skulls of their respective husbands, by some particular mark; and daily visit them with the best cooked dishes from their wigwams. what a lesson of constancy is here! it is a pity, that so much good victuals should be wasted; but what an example is this, for the imitation of christian widows, too many of whom, it is feared, resemble goldsmith's widow with the great fan, who, by the laws of her country, was forbidden to marry again, till the grave of her husband was thoroughly dry; and who was engaged, day and night, in fanning the clods. some thirty years ago, my business led me frequently to pass a stonecutter's door, a few miles from the city; and, in a very conspicuous position, i noticed a gravestone, sacred to the memory of the most affectionate husband, erected by his devoted and inconsolable widow. it continued thus, before the stonecutter's shop, for several years. i asked the reason. "why," said the stonecutter, "the inconsolable got married, in four months after, and i have never got my pay. they pass this way, now and then, the inconsolable and her new husband, and, when i see them, i always run out, and brush the dust off." no. vii. i told that anecdote of the inconsolable widow, related in my last, to old grossman. he and smith were helping me at a grave, in the granary ground. bless my heart, how things have changed! we were digging near the park street side--the old almshouse fronted on park street then--and the granary stood where park street church now stands, until , and the long building, called the massachusetts bank, covered a part of hamilton place, and the house, once occupied by sir francis barnard and afterwards by mr. andrews, with its fine garden, stood at the corner of winter street, on the site of the present granite block; and--but i am burying myself, sexton like, in the grave of my own recollections--i say, i told grossman that story--the old man, when not translated by liquor, was delightful company, in a graveyard--we were digging the grave of a young widow's third husband. grossman said she poisoned them. smith was quite shocked, and told him mr. deblois was looking over the almshouse wall. grossman said he didn't mean, that she really gave all three of them ratsbane; but it was clear enough, she was the end of them all; and he had no doubt the widow would be a good customer, and give us two or three jobs yet, before she left off. this led me to tell that story. smith said there was nothing half so restless, as an irish widow. he said, that a young tipperary widow, nelly mcphee, i think he called her, was courted, and actually had an offer from tooley o'shane, on the way to her husband's funeral. "she accepted, of course," said grossman. "no, she didn't," said smith--"tooley, dear," said she, "y'are too late: foor waaks ago it was, i shook hands wi patty sweeney upon it, that i would have him, in a dacent time, arter poor mcphee went anunderbood." "well," said grossman, "widows of all nations are much alike. there was a dutch woman, whose husband, diedrick van pronk, kicked the bucket, and left her inconsolable. he was buried on copp's hill. folks said grief would kill that widow. she had a figure of wood carved, that looked very like her late husband, and placed it in her bed, and constantly kept it there, for several months. in about half a year, she became interested in a young shoemaker, who got the length of her foot, and finally married her. he had visited the widow, not more than a fortnight, when the servants told her they were out of kindling stuff, and asked what should be done. after a pause, the widow replied, in a very quiet way--"maype it ish vell enough now, to sphlit up old van pronk, vat ish up shtair." some persons have busied themselves, in a singular way, about their own obsequies, and have left strange provisions, touching their remains. charles v., according to robertson and other writers, ordered a rehearsal of his own obsequies--his domestics marched with black tapers--charles followed in his shroud--he was laid in his coffin--the service for the dead was chanted. this farce was, in a few days, followed by the real tragedy; for the fatigue or exposure brought on fever, which terminated fatally. yet this story, which has long been believed, is distinctly denied, by mr. richard ford, in his admirable handbook for spain; and this denial is repeated, in no. of the london quarterly review. several gentlemen, of the fancy, of the present age, and in this vicinity, have provided their coffins, in their life time. the late timothy dexter, commonly called lord dexter, of newburyport; there was also an eminent merchant, of this city. this is truly a blue beard business; and, beyond its influence, in frightening children and domestics, it is difficult to imagine the utility of such an arrangement. after a few visitations, these coffins would probably excite just about as much of the _memento mori_ sensation, as the same number of meal chests. burton, in his anatomy of melancholy, states that john zisca, the general of the hussites, ordered a drum to be made of his skin, after he was dead, persuaded, that the sound of it would terrify his foes. when edward i., of england, was dying, he bound his son, by an oath, to boil his body, and, separating the bones, to carry them always before him in battle, against the scots; as though he believed victory to be chained to his joints. the bodies of persons, executed for crime, have, in different ages, and among different nations, been delivered to surgeons, for dissection. it seems meet and right, that those, who have been worse than useless, in their lives, should contribute, in some small degree, to the common weal, by such an appropriation of their carcasses. in some cases, these miserable creatures have been permitted to make their own bargains, with particular surgeons, beforehand; who have, occasionally, been taken in, by paying a guinea to an unscrupulous fellow, who knew, though the surgeons did not, that he was sentenced to be hung in chains, or, as it is commonly called, gibbeted. the difficulty of obtaining subjects, for anatomical purposes, has led to outrages upon the dead. various remedies have been proposed--none effectual. surgical students, will not be deterred, by the "requiescat in pace," and the judges, between the demands of science and of sympathy, have been in the predicament of asses, between two bundles of straw. a poor vagabond, _nullius filius vel ignoti_, was snatched, by some of these young medical dogs, some years ago, and judge parsons, who tried the indictment, with a leaning to science, imposed a fine of five dollars. not many years after, a worthy judge, a reverencer of parsons, and a devotee to precedent, imposed a fine of five dollars, upon a young sloven, who but half completed his job, and left a respectable citizen of maine, half drawn out from his grave, with a rope about his neck. it seems scarcely conceivable, that a pittance should tempt a man to take his fellow's life, that he might sell the body to a surgeon. in , burke was executed in edinburgh, for this species of murder. it was his trade. victims were lured, by this vampyre, to "the chambers of death," strangled or suffocated, without any visible mark of murder, and then sold to the surgeons. this trade has been attempted in london, at a much later day. dec. , , a wretch, named bishop, and his accomplice, williams, were hung, for the murder of an italian boy, carlo ferrari, poor and friendless, whose body they sold to the surgeons. they confessed the murder of ferrari and several others, whose bodies were disposed of, in a similar manner. from a desire to promote the cause of science, individuals have, now and then, bequeathed their bodies to particular surgeons. these bequests have been rarely insisted upon, by the legatees, and the intentions of the testator have seldom been carried out, by the executors; a remarkable exception, however, occurred, in the case of the celebrated jeremy bentham, an account of which i must defer for the present, for funerals are not the only things, which may be of unreasonable length. no. viii. that eminent friend of science and of man, jeremy bentham, held the prejudice against dissection, in profound contempt, and bequeathed his body, for that object, to dr. fordyce, in . dr. fordyce died, in , and mr. bentham, who survived him, and seems to have set his heart upon being dissected, aware of the difficulties, that might obstruct his purpose, chose three friends, from whom he exacted a solemn promise, to fulfil his wishes. accordingly, mr. bentham's body was carried to the webb street school of anatomy and surgery, and publicly dissected, june , , by dr. southwood smith, who delivered an admirable lecture, upon that occasion. i wholly object to such a practice, not, upon my honor, from selfish motives, though it would spoil our business; but because the moral injury, which would result, from such a disposition of mortal remains, would be so much greater, than the surgical good. mr. bentham's example is not likely to be commonly adopted. a great amount of needless care is sometimes taken, by the living, in regard to their relics, and their obsequies, which care belongs, manifestly, to survivors. akin to the preparation of one's coffin, and storing it in one's domicil, for years perhaps, is the preparation of one's shroud, and death cap, and all the et cætera of laying out. in ninety and nine cases, in every one hundred, these things are done, for the gratification of personal vanity, to attract attention, and to procure a small sample of that lamentation, which the desolate widower and orphans will pour forth, _one of these days_. it is observed, by one of the daughters, that the mother is engaged in some mysterious piece of needle work. "what is it, dear mother?" "ah, my child, you should not inquire. we all must die--it is your poor mother's winding sheet." the daughter is convulsed, and pours forth a profluvium of tears. the judicious parent soothes, and moralizes, and is delighted. the daughter flies to her sisters; and, gathering in some private chamber, their tears are poured forth, as the fact is announced. the husband returns--the eyes of his household are like beet roots. they gather round their miserable meal. the husband has been informed. the sweet-breads go down, untasted. how grateful these evidences of sympathy to the wife and mother! a case occurred in my practice, of this very description, where the lady survived, married again, and the shroud, sallowed by thirty years' _non user_, was given, in an hour of need, to a poor family. montaigne, vol. , page , lond., , says, "i was by no means pleased with a story, told me of a relation of mine, that, being arrived at a very old age and tormented with the stone, he spent the last hours of his life in an extraordinary solicitude, about ordering the pomp and ceremony of his funeral, pressing all the men of condition, who came to see him, to promise their attendance at his grave." sophia charlotte, the sister of george i., of england, a woman of excellent understanding, was the wife of frederic i. of prussia. when dying, one of her attendants observed how sadly the king would be afflicted by her death. "with respect to him," she replied, "i am perfectly at ease. his mind will be completely occupied in arranging the ceremonial of my funeral; and, if nothing goes wrong in the procession, he will be quite consoled for my loss." man goeth to his long home, as of yore, but the mourners do not go about the streets, as they did, when i was young. the afternoons were given to the tolling of bells, and funeral processions. this was about the period, when the citizens began to feel their privations, as cow-yards grew scarce; and, when our old friend, ben russell, told the public, in his centinel, that it was no wonder they were abominably crowded, and pinched for gardens, for boston actually contained seventeen thousand inhabitants. i have seen a funeral procession, of great length, going south, by the old south church, passing another, of equal length, going north, and delaying the progress of a third, coming down school street. the dead were not left to bury the dead, in those days. invitations to funerals were sent round, as they are at present, to balls and parties. othello pollard and domingo williams had full employment then. i have heard it stated of othello, that, having in hand two bundles of invitations, one for a fandango, of some sort, and the other for a funeral, and being in an evil condition, he made sad work in the delivery. printed invitations are quite common, in some countries. i have seen one, in handbill form, for the funeral of a madame barbut, an old widow, in martinique, closing with these words, "_un de profundis, si vous_," etc. roman funerals were distinguished as _indictiva_ and _tacita_: to the former, persons were invited, by a crier; the others were private. the calling out, according to a prearranged list, which always gave offence to somebody, was of old the common practice here. such was the usage in rome, where the director was styled _dominus funeris_ or _designator_. i doubt, if martinets are more tenacious of their rank, in the army, than mourners, at a funeral. there was a practice, in rome, which would appear very grotesque, at the present time. pipers, _tibicines_, preceded the corpse, with players and buffoons, who danced and sang, some of whom imitated the voice, manner and gestures of the defunct. of these, suetonius gives some account, in his lives of tiberius, vespasian, and cæsar. the practice of watching a corpse, until the time of burying or burning, was very ancient, and in use with the greeks and romans. the bodies of eminent men were borne to the grave, by the most distinguished citizens, not acting merely as pall bearers, but sustaining the body on their shoulders. suetonius states, that julius cæsar was borne by the magistrates; augustus by the senators. tacitus, ann. iii. , informs us, that germanicus was supported, on the shoulders of the tribunes and centurions. children, who died, before they were weaned, were carried to the pile by their mothers. this must have been a painful office. no. ix. when i first undertook, there was scarcely any variety, either in the inscriptions, or devices, upon gravestones: death's heads and crossbones; scythes and hour glasses; angels, with rather a diabolical expression; all-seeing eyes, with an ominous squint; squares and compasses; such were the common devices; and every third or fourth tablet was inscribed: thou traveller that passest by, as thou art now, so once was i; as i am now, thou soon shalt be, prepare for death and follow me. no wonder people were wearied to death, or within an inch of it, by reading this lugubrious quatrain, for the hundredth time. we had not then learned, from that vivacious people, who have neither taste nor talent for being sad, to convert our graveyards into pleasure grounds. to be sure, even in my early days, and long before, an audacious spirit, now and then, would burst the bonds of this mortuary sameness, and take a bolder flight. we have an example of this, on the tablet of the rev. joseph moody, in the graveyard at york, maine. although this stone may moulder into dust, yet joseph moody's name continue must. and another in dorchester: here lies our captain and mayor of suffolk, was withall, a godly magistrate was he, and major general. two troops of hors with him here came, such worth his love did crave. ten companyes also mourning marcht to his grave. let all that read be sure to keep the faith as he has don; with christ he lives now crowned, his name was humphrey atherton, he dyed the of september, . the following, also, in the graveyard at attleborough, upon the tablet of the rev. peter thacher, who died in , is no common effort, and in the style of tate and brady: whom papists not with superstitious fire, would dare to adore, we justly may admire. and another, in the same graveyard, upon the slave, cæsar, is very clever. the two last lines seem by another hand: here lies the best of slaves, now turning into dust, cæsar, the ethiopian, craves a place, among the just. his faithful soul is fled to realms of heavenly light, and by the blood that jesus shed, is changed from black to white. january , he quitted the stage, in the year of his age. an erratum, ever to be regretted, is certainly quite unexpected, on a gravestone. in the graveyard at norfolk, va., there is a handsome marble monument, sacred to the memory of mrs. margaret, &c., wife of, &c., who died, &c.: "_erratum, for margaret read martha_." in olden time, there was a provost of bonny dundee, and his name was dickson. he was a right jolly provost, and seemed resolved to have one good joke beyond the grave. he bequeathed ten pounds, apiece, to three men, remarkable above their fellows, for avarice, and dulness, on condition, that they should join in the composition of his epitaph, in rhyme and metre. they met--the task was terrible--but, dr. johnson would have said, what will not a scotchman undertake, for ten pounds! it need not be long, said one--a line apiece, said the second--shall i begin? said the third. this was objected to, of course; for whoever commenced was relieved from the onus of the rhyme. they drew lots for this vantage ground, and he, who won, after a copious perspiration, produced the following line-- here lies dickson, provost of dundee. this was very much admired--brief and sententious--his name, his official station, his death, and the place of his burial were happily compressed in a single line. after severe exertion, the second line was produced: here lies dickson, here lies he. it was objected, that this was tautological; and that it did not even go so far as the first, which set forth the official character of the deceased. it was said, in reply, by one of the executors, who happened to be present, and who acted as _amicus poetæ_, that the second line would have been tautological, if it _had_ set forth the official station, which it did not; and that as there had once been a female provost, the last word effectually established the sex of dickson, which was very important. the third legatee, though he had leave of absence for an hour, and refreshed his spirit, by a ramble on the frith of tay, was utterly unable to complete the epitaph. at an adjourned meeting, however, he produced the following line, hallelujah! hallelujee! there are some beautiful epitaphs in our language--there are half a dozen, perhaps, which are exquisitely so, and i believe there are not many more. i dare not present them here, in juxtaposition with such light matter. swift's clever epitaph, on a miser, may more appropriately close this article: beneath this verdant hillock lies demer, the wealthy and the wise. his heirs, that he might safely rest, have put his carcass in a chest-- the very chest, in which, they say, his other self, his money, lay. and if his heirs continue kind to that dear self he left behind, i dare believe that four in five will think his better half alive. no. x. catacombs, hollows or cavities, according to the etymological import of the word, are, as every one knows, receptacles for the dead. they are found in many countries; the most ancient are those of egypt and thebes, which were visited in and , by belzoni. psamatticus was a famous fellow, in his time: he was the founder of the kingdom of egypt; and, after a siege of nearly three times the length of that at troy, he captured the city of azotus. the flight of the house of our lady of loretto from jerusalem, in a single night, would have seemed less miraculous to the egyptians, than the transportation of the sarcophagus of psamatticus, by a travelling gentleman, from egypt to london. so it fell out, nevertheless. belzoni penetrated into one of the pyramids of ghizeh; he obtained free access to the tombs of the egyptian kings, at beban-el-malook; and brought to england the sarcophagus of psamatticus, exquisitely wrought of the finest oriental alabaster. verily kings have a slender chance, between the worms and the lovers of _vertu_. "here lie the remains of g. belzoni"--these brief words mark the grave of belzoni himself, at gato, near benin in africa, where he died, in december, , safer in his traveller's robes, than if surrounded with aught to tempt the hand of avarice or curiosity. the best account of the egyptian catacombs may be found in belzoni's narrative, published in . the catacombs of italy are vast caverns, in the via appia, about three miles from rome. they were supposed to be the sepulchres of martyrs, and have furnished more capital to priestcraft, for the traffic in relics, than would have accrued, for the purposes of agriculture, to the fortunate discoverer of a whole island of guano. the common opinion is, that they were heathen sepulchres--the _puticuli_ of the ancients. the catacombs of naples, according to bishop burnet, are more magnificent than those of rome. catacombs have been found in syracuse and catanea, in sicily, and in malta. jahn, in his archæologia, sec. , speaks of extensive sepulchres, among the hebrews, otherwise called the _everlasting houses_; a term of peculiar inapplicability, if we may judge from maundrell's account of the shattered and untenantable state, in which they are found. they are all located beyond the cities and villages, to which they belong, that is, beyond their more inhabited parts. the sepulchres of the hebrew kings were upon mount zion. extensive caverns, natural or artificial, were the common burying-places or catacombs. gardens and the shade of spreading trees were preferred, by some; these are objectionable, on the ground, suggested in a former number: to alienate the estate and leave the dead, without the right of removal, reserved, is, virtually, a transfer of one's ancestors--and to remove them may be unpleasant. for this contingency the greeks and romans provided, by reducing them to such a portable compass, that a man might carry his grandfather in a quart bottle, and ten generations, in the right line, in a wheelbarrow. numerous catacombs are to be found in syria and palestine. the most beautiful are on the north part of jerusalem. the entrance into these was down many steps. some of them consisted of seven apartments, with niches in the walls, for the reception of the dead. maundrell, in his travels, page , writing of the "grots," as they were styled, which have been considered the sepulchres of kings, denies that any of the kings of israel or judah were buried there. he describes these catacombs, as having necessarily cost an immense amount of money and labor. the approach is through the solid rock, into an area forty paces wide, cut down square, with exquisite precision, out of the solid mass. on the south is a portico, nine paces long, and four broad, also cut from the solid rock. this has an architrave, sculptured in the stone, of fruits and flowers, running along its front. at the end of the portico, on the left, you descend into the passage to the sepulchres. after creeping through stones and rubbish, maundrell arrived at a large room, seven or eight yards square, cut also from the natural rock. his words are these:--"its sides and ceiling are so exactly square, and its angles so just, that no architect, with levels and plummets, could build a room more regular." from this room you pass into six more, of the same fabric; the two innermost being deepest. all these apartments, excepting the first, are filled around with stone coffins. they had been covered with handsome lids, and carved with garlands; but, at the period of this visit, the covers were mostly broken to pieces, by sacrilegious hands. here is a specimen of the "everlasting houses," and a solemn satire upon the best of all human efforts--impotent and vain--to perpetuate that, which god almighty has destined to perish. but of this i shall have more to say, when i come to sum up; and endeavor, from these dry bones, to extract such wisdom as i can, touching the best mode, in which the living may dispose of the dead, whose _memories_ they are bound to embalm, and whose _bodies_ are entitled to a decent burial. the catacombs of the hottentots are the wildest clefts and caverns of their mountains. the greenlanders, after wrapping the dead, in the skins of wild animals, bear them to some far distant golgotha. in siberia and kamtschatka, they are deposited in remote caverns, with mantles of snow, for their winding sheets. it is the valued privilege of the civilized and refined to snuff up corruption, and swear it is a rose--to bury their dead, in the very midst of the living--in the very tenements, in which they breathe, the larger part of every seventh day--in the vaults of churches, into which the mourners are expected to descend, and poke their noses into the tombs, to prove the full measure of their respect for the defunct. but the tombs are faithfully sealed; and, when again opened, after several months, perhaps, the olfactory nerves are not absolutely staggered--possibly a dull smeller may honestly aver, that he perceives nothing--what then? the work of corruption has gone forward--the gases have escaped--how and whither? subtle as the lightning, they have percolated, through the meshes of brick and mortar; and the passages or gashes, purposely left open in the walls, have given them free egress to the outward air. very probably neither the eye nor the nose gave notice of their escape. doubtless, it was gradual. the yellow fever, i believe, has never been seen nor smelt, during its most terrible ravages. i do remember--not an apothecary--but a greenhorn, who, in , heard old dr. lloyd say the yellow fever was in the air, and who went upon the house top, next morning early, to look for it--but he saw it not; and, ever after, said he did not think much of dr. lloyd. i have something more to say of burials under churches, and in the midst of a dense population. no. xi. a few more words on the subject of burying the dead under churches, and in the midst of a dense population. if men would adopt the language of the prologue to addison's cato--"_dare to have sense yourselves_"--the folly and madness of this practice would be sufficiently apparent. upon some simple subjects, one grain of common sense is better, than any quantity of the uncommon kind. but it is hard to make men think so. they prefer walking by faith--they must consult the savans--the doctors. now i think very well of a good, old-fashioned doctor--one doctor i mean--but, when they get to be gregarious, my observation tells me, no good can possibly come of it. at post mortems, and upon other occasions, i have, in my vocation, seen them assembled, by half dozens and dozens, and i have come to the conclusion, that no body of men ever look half so wise, or feel half so foolish. some of the faculty were consulted, in this city, about thirty years ago, upon the question of burying under churches; and, on the strength of the opinion given, a large church, not then finished, was provided with tombs, and the dead have been buried therein, ever since. now i think the public good would have been advanced, had those doctors set their faces against the selfish proposition. that it is a nuisance, i entertain not the slightest doubt. the practice of burying in their own houses, among the ancients, gave place to burying without the city, or to cremation. the unhealthiness, consequent upon such congregations of the dead, was experienced at rome. the inconvenience was so severely felt, in a certain quarter, that augustus gave a large part of one of the cemeteries to mæcenas, who so completely purified it, and changed its character, that it became one of the healthiest sites in rome, and there he built a splendid villa, to which augustus frequently resorted, for fresh air and repose. horace alludes to this transformation, sat. , lib. , v. , and the passage reminds one of the change, which occurred in philadelphia, when the potter's field was beautifully planted, and transformed into washington square. hoc miseræ plebi stabat commune sepulchrum, pantolabo scurræ; nomentanoque nepoti. mille pedes in fronte, trecentos cippus in agrum hic dabat, heredes monumentum ne sequeretur. nunc licet esquiliis habitare salubribus, atque aggere in apprico spatiari, quâ modo tristes albis informem spectabant ossibus agrum. millingen, in his work on medical jurisprudence, page , remarks--"from time immemorial medical men have pointed out to municipal authorities the dangers, that arise from burying the dead, within the precincts of cities, or populous towns." the early christians buried their martyrs, and afterwards eminent citizens, in their temples. theodosius, in his celebrated code, forbade the practice, because of the infectious diseases. theodolphus, the bishop of orleans, complained to charlemagne, that vanity and the love of lucre had turned churches into charnel houses, disgraceful to the church, and dangerous to man. cuthbert, archbishop of canterbury, first sanctioned the use of churches, for charnel houses, in --though augustine had previously forbidden the practice. as sterne said, in another connection, "they manage these matters much better, in france;" there maret, in , and vicq d'azyr, in , pointed out the terrible consequences, so effectually, that none, but dignitaries, were suffered to be buried in churches. in , inhumation, in the cities of france, was wholly forbidden, without any exception. the arguments produced, at that time, are not uninteresting, at this, or any other. in saulien, about miles from paris, in the year , the corpse of a corpulent person was buried, march , under the church of st saturnin. april , following, a woman was buried near it. both had died of a prevailing fever, which had nearly passed away. at the last interment a foul odor filled the church, and out of persons present, were attacked with the disease. in at nantes, several coffins were removed, to make room for a person of note; and fifteen of the bystanders died of the emanation, shortly after. in the same year, one third of the inhabitants of lectouse died of malignant fever, which appeared, immediately after the removal of the dead from a burial-ground, to give place to a public structure. the public mind is getting to be deeply impressed, upon this subject. cities, and the larger towns are, in many instances, building homes for the dead, beyond the busy haunts of the living. the city of london has, until within a few years, been backward, in this sanatory movement. at present, however, there are six public cemeteries, in the suburbs of that city, of no inconsiderable area: the kensall green cemetery, established by act and of william iv., in , containing acres--the south metropolitan, by act and william iv., , containing acres--the highgate and kentish town, by act and william iv., containing acres--the abney park, at stoke newington, containing acres, --the westminster, at earlscourt, kensington road, --and the nunhead, containing acres, . paris has its beautiful père la chaise, covering the site of the house and extensive grounds, once belonging to the jesuit of that name, the confessor of louis xiv., who died in . new york has its greenwood; philadelphia its laurel hill; albany its rural cemetery; baltimore its green mount; rochester its mount hope; we our mount auburn; and our neighboring city of roxbury has already selected--and well selected--a local habitation for the dead, and wants nothing but a name, which will not long be wanting, nor a graceful arrangement of the grounds, from the hands of one, to whom mount auburn is indebted, for so much of all that is admirable there. i shall rejoice, if the governors of this cemetery should decree, that no _tomb_ should ever be erected therein--but that the dead should be laid in their _graves_. my experience has supplied me with good and sufficient reasons--one thousand and one--against the employment of tombs, some of which reasons i may hereafter produce, though the honor of our craft may constrain me to keep silence, in regard to others. some very bitter family squabbles have arisen, about tombs. two deacons, who were half brothers, had a serious and lasting dispute, respecting a family tomb. they became almost furious; one of them solemnly protesting, that he would never consent to be buried there, while he had his reason, and the other declaring, that he would never be put into that tomb, while god spared his life. this, however, is not one of those one thousand and one reasons, against tombs. no. xii. the origin of the catacombs of paris is very interesting, and not known to many. the stone, of which the ancient buildings of paris were constructed, was procured from quarries, on the banks of the river bièore. no system had been adopted in the excavation; and, for hundreds of years, the material had been withdrawn, until the danger became manifest. there was a vague impression, that these quarries extended under a large part of the city. in the notice of the authorities was called to some accidents, connected with the subject. the quarries were then carefully examined, by skilful engineers; and the startling fact clearly established, that the southern parts of paris were actually undermined, and in danger of destruction. in a special commission was appointed, to direct such works, as might be necessary. on the very day of its appointment, the necessity became manifest--a house, in the rue d'enfer, sunk ninety-two feet. the alarm--the fear of a sudden engulphment--was terrible. operatives were set at work, to prop the streets, roads, palaces, and churches. the supports, left by the quarriers, without any method or judgment, were insufficient--in some instances, they had given way, and the roof had settled. great fear was felt for the aqueduct of arcueil, which supplied the fountains of paris, and which passed over this ground, for it had already suffered some severe shocks; and it was apprehended, not simply that the fountains would be cut off, but that the torrent would pour itself into these immense caverns. and now the reader will inquire, what relation has this statement to the catacombs? let us reply. for hundreds of years, paris had but one place of interment, the cemetery des innocens. this was once a part of the royal domains; it lay without the walls of paris; and was given, by one of the earlier kings, to the citizens, for a burying-place. it is well known, that this gift to the people was intended to prevent the continuance of the practice, then common in paris, of burying the dead, in cellars, courts, gardens, streets, and public fields, within the city proper. in this cemetery was surrounded with a high wall, by philip augustus, the forty second king of france. it was soon found insufficient for its purpose; and, in , it was enlarged, by pierre de nemours, bishop of paris. generation after generation was deposited there, stratum super stratum, until the surrounding parishes, in the fifteenth century, began to complain of the evil, as an insufferable nuisance. such a colossal mass of putrescence produced discomfort and disease. hichnesse speaks of several holes about paris, of great size and depth, in which dead bodies were deposited, and left uncovered, till one tier was filled, and then covered with a layer of earth, and so on, to the top. he says these holes were cleared, once in thirty or forty years, and the bones deposited, in what was called "_le grand charnier des innocens_;" this was an arched gallery, surrounding the great cemetery. with what affectionate respect we cherish the venerated name of françois pontraci! _magnum et venerabile nomen!_ he was the last--the last of the grave-diggers of _le grand charnier des innocens_! in the days of my novitiate, i believed in the mathematical dictum, which teaches, that two things cannot occupy the same place, at the same time. but that dictum appears incredible, while contemplating the operations of pontraci. he was a most accomplished stevedore in his department--the napoleon of the charnel house, the very king of spades. all difficulties vanished, before his magic power. nothing roused his indignation so much, as the suggestion, that a cemetery was _full_--_c'est impossible!_ was his eternal reply. to use the terms of another of the fine arts, the touch of pontraci was irresistible--his _handling_ masterly--his _grouping_ unsurpassed--and his _fore-shortening_ altogether his own. _condense!_ that word alone explained the mystery of his great success. knapsacks are often thrown aside, _en route_, in the execution of rapid movements. in the grand march of death, pontraci considered coffins an encumbrance. those wooden surtouts he thought well enough for parade, but worse than useless, on a march. he had a poor opinion of an artist, who could not find room, for twenty citizens, heads and heels, in one common grave. madame pontraci now and then complained, that the fuel communicated a problematical flavor to the meat, while roasting--"_c'est odeur, qui a rapport à une profession particulière, madame_," was the reply of pontraci. the register, kept by this eminent man, shows, that, in thirty years, he had deposited, in this cemetery, ninety thousand bodies. it was calculated, that twelve hundred thousand had been buried there, since the time of philip augustus. in , the archbishop of paris, under a resolve of the council of state, issued a decree, that the great cemetery should be suppressed and evacuated. it was resolved to convert it into a market place. the happy thought of converting the quarries into catacombs fortunately occurred, at that period, to m. lenoie, lieutenant general of police. thus a receptacle was, at once, provided for the immense mass of human remains, to be removed from the cemetery des innocens. a portion of the quarries, lying under the _plaine de mont souris_, was assigned, for this purpose. a house was purchased with the ground adjoining, on the old road to orleans. it had, at one time, belonged to isouard, a robber, who had infested that neighborhood. a flight of seventy-seven steps was made, from the house down into the quarries; and a well sunk to the bottom, down which the bones were to be thrown. workmen were employed, in constructing pillars to sustain the roof, and in walling round the part, designed for _le charnier_. the catacombs were then consecrated, with all imaginable pomp. in the meantime, the vast work of removing the remains went forward, night and day, suspended, only, when the hot weather rendered it unsafe to proceed. the nocturnal scenes were very impressive. a strange resurrection, to be sure! bonfires burnt brightly amid the gloom. torches threw an unearthly glare around, and illuminated these dealings with the dead. the operatives, moving about in silence, bearing broken crosses, and coffins, and the bones of the long buried, resembled the agents of an infernal master. all concerned had been publicly admonished, to reclaim the crosses, tombstones, and monuments of their respective dead. such, as were not reclaimed, were placed in the field, belonging to the house of isouard. many leaden coffins were buried there, one containing the remains of madame de pompadour. during _the_ revolution, the house and grounds of isouard were sold as national domain, the coffins melted, and the monuments destroyed. the catacombs received the dead from other cemeteries; and those, who fell, in periods of commotion, were cast there. when convents were suppressed, the dead, found therein, were transferred to this vast omnibus. during the revolution, the works were neglected--the soil fell in; water found its way to the interior; the roof began to crumble; and the bones lay, in immense heaps, mixed with the rubbish, and impeding the way. and there, for the present, we shall leave them, intending to resume this account of the catacombs of paris, in a future number. no. xiii. in , the disgusting confusion, in the catacombs of paris, was so much a subject of indignant remark, that orders were issued to put things in better condition. a plan was adopted, for piling up the bones. in some places, these bones were thirty yards in thickness; and it became necessary to cut galleries through the masses, to effect the object proposed. there were two entrances to the catacombs--one near the barrier d'enfer, for visitors--the other, near the old road to orleans, for the workmen. the staircase consisted of ninety steps, which, after several windings, conducted to the western gallery, from which others branched off, in different directions. a long gallery, extending beneath the aqueduct of arcueil, leads to the gallery of port mahon, as it is called. about a hundred yards from this gallery, the visitor comes again to the passage to the catacombs; and, after walking one hundred yards further, he arrives at the vestibule, which is of an octagonal form. this vestibule opens into a long gallery, lined with bones, from top to bottom. the arm, leg, and thigh bones are in front, compactly and regularly piled together. the monotony of all this is tastefully relieved, by three rows of skulls, at equal distances, and the smaller bones are stowed behind. how very french! this gallery leads to other apartments, lined with bones, variously and fancifully arranged. in these rooms are imitation vases and altars, constructed of bones, and surmounted with skulls, fantastically arranged. this really seems to be the work of some hybrid animal--a cross, perhaps, between the frenchman and the monkey. these crypts, as they are called, are designated by names, strangely dissimilar. there is the crypte de job, and the crypte d'anacreon--the crypte de la fontaine, and the crypte d'ezekiel--the crypte d'hervey, and the crypte de rousseau. an album, kept here, is filled with mawkish sentimentality, impertinent witticism, religious fervor, and infidel bravado. the calculations vary, as to the number of bodies, whose bones are collected here. at the lowest estimate, the catacombs are admitted to contain the remains of three millions of human beings. while contemplating the fantastical disposition of these human relics, one recalls the words of sir thomas browne, in his hydriotaphia--"antiquity held too light thoughts from objects of mortality, while some drew provocatives of mirth from anatomies, and jugglers showed tricks with skeletons." here then, like "_broken tea-cups, wisely kept for show_," are the broken skeletons of more than three millions of human beings, paraded for public exhibition! most of them, doubtless, received christian burial, and were followed to their graves, and interred, with more or less of the forms and ceremonies of the catholic church, and deposited in the earth, there to repose in peace, till the resurrection! how applicable here the language of the learned man, whom we just quoted--"when the funeral pyre was out, and the last valediction over, men took a lasting adieu of their interred friends, little expecting the curiosity of future ages should comment upon their ashes; and having no old experience of the duration of their relics, held no opinion of such after-considerations. but who knows the fate of his bones, or how often he is to be buried! who hath the oracle of his ashes, or whither they are to be scattered?" how little did the gay and guilty jeane antoinette poisson, marquise de pompadour, imagine this rude handling of her mortal remains! she was buried in the cemetery des innocens, in --and shared the common exhumation and removal in . it seems to have been the desire of mankind, in every age and nation, to repose in peace, after death. in conformity with this desire, the cemeteries of civilized nations, the morais of the polynesian isles, and the cities of the dead, throughout the world, have been, from time immemorial, consecrated and tabooed. so deep and profound has been the sentiment of respect, for the feelings of individuals, upon this subject, that great public improvements have been abandoned, rather than give offence to a single citizen. near forty years ago, a meeting was held in faneuil hall, to consider a proposition for some change, in the granary burying-ground, which proposition, was rejected, by acclamation. during the mayoralty, of the elder mr. quincy, it was the wish of very many to continue the mall, through the burial-ground, in the common. the consent of all, but two or three, was obtained. they were offered new tombs, and the removal of their deceased relatives, under their own supervision, at the charge of the city. these two or three still objected, and this great public improvement was abandoned; and with manifest propriety. the basis of this sentiment is a deep laid and tender respect for the ashes of the dead, and an earnest desire, that they may rest, undisturbed, till the resurrection; and this is the very last thing, which is likely to befall the tenant of a tomb; for the owner--and tombs, like other tenements, will change owners--in the common phraseology of leases, has a right to enter, "to view, and expel the lessee"--if no survivor is at hand to prevent, and the new proprietor has other tenants, whom he prefers for the dark and gloomy mansion. and they, in process of time, shall be served, in a similar manner, by another generation. this is no exception; it is the general rule, the common course of dealing with the dead. a tomb, containing the remains of several generations, may become, by marriage, the property of a stranger. his wife dies. he marries anew. new connections beget new interests. the tomb is _useless_, to him, because it is _full_. a general clearance is decreed. a hole is dug in the bottom of the tomb; the coffins, with an honorable exception, in respect to his late beloved, are broken to pieces; and the remains cast into the pit, and covered up. the tablet, overhead, perpetuates the lie--"sacred to the memory," &c. however, the tomb is white-washed, and swept out, and a nice place he has made of it! all this, have i seen, again and again. when a tomb is opened, for a new interment, dilapidated coffins are often found lying about, and bones, mud, and water, on the bottom. we always make the best of it, and stow matters away, as decently as we can. we are often blamed for time's slovenly work. grossman said, that a young spendthrift, who really cared for nothing but his pleasures, was, upon such an occasion, seized with a sudden fit of reverence for his great grandfather, and threatened to shoot grossman, unless he produced him, immediately. he was finally pacified by a plain statement, and an exhibition of the old gentleman's bones behind the other coffins. we could not be looked upon, more suspiciously, by certain inconsiderate persons, if we were the very worms that did the mischief. as a class, we are as honorable as any other. there are bad men, in every calling. there is no crime, in the decalogue, or out of it, which has not been committed, by some apostle, in holy orders. doctors and even apothecaries are, occasionally, scoundrels. and, in a very old book, now entirely out of print, i have read, that there was, in the olden time, a lawyer, _rara avis_, who was suspected of not adhering, upon all occasions, to the precise truth. tombs are nuisances. i will tell you why. no. xiv. tombs are obviously more liable to invasion, with and without assistance, from the undertaker and his subalterns, than graves. there may be a few exceptions, where the sexton does not cooperate. if a grave be dug, in a suitable soil, of a proper depth, which is some feet lower than the usual measure, the body will, in all probability, remain undisturbed, for ages, and until corruption and the worm shall have done their work, upon flesh and blood, and decomposition is complete. an intelligent sexton, who keeps an accurate chart of his diggings, will eschew that spot. on the other hand, every coffin is exposed to view, when a tomb is opened for a new comer. on such occasions, we have, sometimes, full employment, in driving away idlers, who gather to the spot, to gratify a sickly curiosity, or to steal whatever may be available, however "sacred to the memory," &c. the tomb is left open, for many hours, and, not unfrequently, over night, the mouth perhaps slightly closed, but not secured against intruders. during such intervals, the dead are far less protected from insult, and the espionage of idle curiosity, than the contents of an ordinary toy-shop, by day or night. fifty years ago, curiosity led me to walk down into a vault, thus left exposed. no person was near. i lifted the lid of a coffin--the bones had nearly all crumbled to pieces--the skull remained entire--i took it out, and, covering it with my handkerchief, carried it home. i have, at this moment, a clear recollection of the horror, produced in the mind of our old family nurse, by the exhibition of the skull, and my account of the manner, in which i obtained it. "what an awful thing it would be," the dear, good soul exclaimed, "if the resurrection should come this very night, and the poor man should find his skull gone!" my mother was informed; and i was ordered to take it back immediately: it was then dark; and when i arrived at the tomb, in company with our old negro, hannibal, to whom the office was in no wise agreeable, the vault was closed. i deposited the skull on the tomb, and walked home in double quick time, with my head over my shoulder, the whole way. i relate this occurrence, to show how motiveless such trespasses may be. there is a morbid desire, especially in women, which is rather difficult of analysis, to descend into the damp and dreary tomb--to lift the coffin lid--and look upon the changing, softening, corrupting features of a parent or child--to gaze upon the mouldering bones; and thus to gather materials, for fearful thoughts, and painful conversations, and frightful dreams! a lady lost her child. it died of a disease, not perfectly intelligible to the doctor, who desired a post mortem examination, which the mother declined. he urged. she peremptorily refused. the child was buried in the granary ground. a few months after, another member of the same family was buried in the same vault. the mother, notwithstanding the remonstrances of her husband, descended, to look upon the remains of her only daughter; and, after a careful search, returned, in the condition of rachel, who would not be comforted, because it was not. in a twofold sense, it was _not_. the coffin and its contents had been removed. the inference was irresistible. the distress was very great, and fresh, upon the slightest allusion, to the end of life. cases of premature sepulture are, doubtless, extremely rare. that such, however, have sometimes occurred, no doubt has been left upon the mind, upon the opening of tombs. these are a few only of many matters, which are destined, from time to time, to be brought to light, upon the opening of _tombs_, and which are not likely to disturb the feelings of those whose deceased relatives and friends are committed to well-made _graves_. on all these occasions, ignorance is bliss. tombs, not only such as are constructed under churches, but in common cemeteries, are frequently highly offensive, on the score of emanation. they are liable to be opened, for the admission of the dead, at all times; and, of course, when the worms are riotous, and corruption is rankest, and the pungent gases are eminently dangerous, and disgusting. even when closed, the intelligible odor, arising from the dissolving processes, which are going on within, is more than living flesh and blood can well endure. again and again, visitors at mount auburn have been annoyed, by this effluvium from the tombs. by the universal adoption of well-made graves, this also may be entirely avoided. when a family becomes, or is supposed to be, extinct, or has quitted the country, their dead kindred are usually permitted to lie in peace, in their _graves_. it is not always thus, if they have had the misfortune to be buried in _tombs_. to cast forth a dead tenant, from a solitary _grave_, that room might be found for a new comer, would scarcely be thought of; but the temptation to seize five or six _tombs_, at once, for town's account, on the pretext, that they were the tombs of extinct families, has, once, at least, proved irresistible, and led to an outrage, so gross and revolting, in this commonwealth, that the whole history of cemeteries in our country cannot produce a parallel. in april, , the board of health, in a town of this commonwealth, gave notice, in a _single_ paper, that certain tombs were dilapidated; that no representative of former owners could be found; and that, if not claimed and repaired, within sixty days, those tombs would be sold, to pay expenses, &c. in fulfilment of this notice, in september following, the entire contents of five tombs were broken to pieces, and shovelled out. in one of these tombs there were thirty coffins, the greater part of which were so sound, as to be split with an axe. a portion of the silver plate, stolen by the operatives employed by the board of health, was afterwards recovered, bearing date, as recently as . the board of health then advertised these tombs for sale, in _two_ newspapers. nothing of these brutal proceedings was known to the relatives, until the deed of barbarity was done. now it can scarcely be credited, that, in that very town, a few miles from it, and in this city, there were then living numerous descendants, and relatives of those, whose tombs had thus been violated. some of the dead, thus insulted, had been the greatest benefactors of that town, so much so, that a narrative of their donations has been published, in pamphlet form. among the direct descendants were some of the oldest and most distinguished families of this city, whose feelings were severely tried by this outrage. the ashes of the dead are common property. the whole community bestirs itself in their defence. the public indignation brought those stupid and ignorant officials to confession and atonement, if not to repentance. they passed votes of regret; replaced the ashes in proper receptacles within the tombs; and put them in order, at the public charge. a meagre and miserable atonement, for an injury of this peculiar nature; and, though gracelessly accorded,--extorted by the stringency of public sentiment, and the fear of legal process,--yet, on the whole, the only satisfaction, for a wrong of this revolting and peculiar character. the insecurity of tombs is sufficiently apparent. an empty tomb may be attached by creditors; but, by statute of mass., , chap. , sec. , it cannot be, while in use, as a cemetery. but no law, of man or nature, can prevent the disgusting effects, and mortifying casualties, and misconstructions of power, which have arisen, and will forever continue to arise, from the miserable practice of burying the dead, in _tombs_. no. xv. there is, doubtless, something not altogether agreeable, in the thought of being buried alive. testamentary injunctions are not uncommon, for the prevention of such a calamity. as far, as my long experience goes, the percentage is exceedingly small. about twenty-five years ago, some old woman was certain, that a person, lately buried, was not exactly dead. she gave utterance to this certainty--there was no _evidence_, and ample room therefore for _faith_. the defunct had a little property--it was a clear case, of course--his relatives had buried him alive, to get possession! a mob gathered, in king's chapel yard; and, to appease their righteous indignation, the grave was opened, the body exposed, doctors examined, and the mob was respectfully assured, that the man was dead--dead as a door nail. a proposition to bury the old woman, in revenge, was rejected immediately. but she did not give up the point--they never do. she admitted, that the party was dead, but persisted, that his death was caused, by being buried alive. some are, doubtless, still living, who remember the affair in the granary yard. groans had been heard there, at night. some person had been buried alive, beyond all doubt. a committee was appointed to visit the spot. upon drawing near, subdued laughter and the sounds of vulgar merriment arose, from one of the tombs--a light was seen glimmering from below--the strong odor, not of corruption, but of mutton chops, filled the air. some vagabonds had cleared the tomb, and taken possession, and, with broken coffins for fuel, had found an appetite, among the dead. the occupation of tombs, by the outcasts of society, was common, long before the christian era. that the living have been buried, unintentionally, now and then, is undoubtedly true. such has probably been the case, sometimes, under catalepsy or trance, the common duration of which is from a few hours, to two or three days; but of which bonet, _medic., septentrion, lib. , sec. , chap. _, gives an example, which lasted twenty days. bodies have been found, says millingen, in his curiosities of medical experience, page , where the miserable victims have devoured the flesh of their arms; and he cites john scott and the emperor zeno, as examples. plato recites the case of a warrior, who was left ten days, as dead, upon the field of battle, and came to life, on his way to the sepulchre. in chalmers' memoir of the abbe prevôt, it is related, that he was found, by a peasant, having fallen in an apoplectic fit. the body was cold, and carried to a surgeon, who proceeded to open it. during the process, the abbe revived, only, however, to die of the wound, inflicted by the operator. the danger of burying alive has been noticed by pineau, _sur le danger des inhumations precipitées, paris, _. dr. john mason good, vol. , page , remarks, that catalepsy has been mistaken for real death; and, in countries where burial takes place speedily, it is much to be feared, that, in a few instances, the patient has been buried alive. a case of asphyxy, of a singular kind, is stated, by mr. pew, and recited by dr. good, of a female, whose interment was postponed, for a post mortem examination--most fortunately--for the first touch of the scalpel brought her to life. diemerbroeck, _tractat de peste_, _lib. , hist. _, relates the case of a rustic, who was laid out for interment. three days passed before the funeral. he was supposed to have died of the plague. when in the act of being buried, he showed signs of life, recovered, and lived many years. dr. good observes, that a critical examination of the region of the heart, and a clear mirror, applied to the mouth and nostrils, will commonly settle the question of life or death; but that even these signs will sometimes fail. what then shall be done? matthæus hildanus and others, who give many stories of this kind, say--wait for the infallible signs of putrefaction. it may be absurd to wait too long; it is indecorous to inhume too soon. the case, recited by mr. pew, reminds me of pliny's account of persons who came to life, on the funeral pile. "aviola in rogo revixit: et, quoniam subveniri non potuerat, prævalente flamma, vivus crematus est. similis causa in l. lamia, prætorio viro, traditur."--lib. , sec. . old grossman's stories, in this connection, were curious enough. he gave a remarkable account of a good old deacon, who had a scolding wife. she fell sick and died, as was supposed, and was put in her coffin, and screwed down, and lifted. everything, as grossman said, went on very pleasantly, till they began to descend into the tomb, when the sexton, at the foot, slipped, and the coffin went by the run, and struck violently against the wall of the tomb. one instant of awful silence was followed, by a shrill shriek from the corpse--"_let me out--let me out!_" the poor old deacon wrung his hands, and looked, as grossman expressed it, "real melancholy." the lid was unscrewed, as soon as possible, and the lady, less in sorrow, than in anger, insisted on immediate emancipation. all attempts to persuade her to be still, and go home as she came, for the decency of the thing, were unavailing. the top of the coffin was removed. the deacon offered to help her out. she refused his proffered hand; and, doubling her fist in his face, told him he was a monster, and should pay for it, and insisted on walking back, in her death clothes. about six months after, she died, in good earnest. "the poor deacon," said grossman, "called us into a private room, and reminding us of the sad turn things took, last time, begged us to be careful; and told us, if all things went right, he would treat us at his store, the next day. he retailed spirit, as all the deacons did, being the very persons, pointed at, by the finger of the law, as men of sober lives and conversations." grossman told another story. we could scarcely credit it. he offered to swear to it; but we begged he wouldn't. it was of a woman, who was a cider sot. her husband had tried all sorts of preventive experiments, in vain. his patience was exhausted. he tapped a barrel, and let her drink her fill. she and the barrel gave out together. she was buried. the coldness of the tomb brought her to life. she felt around the narrow domicil, in which she lay. her consciousness, that she was in her coffin, and that she had been buried, was clear enough; but her other impressions were rather cloudy. it never occurred to her, that she had been buried alive. she imagined herself, in another world, and, knocking, as hard as possible, against the lid and sides of her coffin, she exclaimed, "good people of the upper world, if ye have got any good cider, do let us have a mug of it." luckily, the mouth of the tomb had not been closed, and, when the sexton came to close it, he was scandalized, of course, to hear a thirsty corpse, crying for cider; but the woman was soon relieved from her predicament. the mandans, whose custom of never burying their dead, i have alluded to, may possibly be influenced, by a consideration of this very contingency. in some places, bodies have been placed in a lighted room, near the charnel house, there to remain, till the signs of corruption could no longer be mistaken. the tops of the coffins being loose; and a bell so connected with the body, as to ring on the slightest movement. no. xvi. my profession is very dear to me; and nothing would gratify me more, than to see my brother artists restored to their original dignity. it is quite common to look upon a sexton, as a mere grave-digger, and upon his calling, as a cold, underground employment, divested of everything like sentiment or solemnity. in the olden time, the sexton bore the title of sacristan. he had charge of the sacristy, or vestry, and all the sacred vessels and vestments of the church. at funerals, his office corresponded with that of the roman _dominus funeris_ or _designator_, referred to by horace, ep. i., , --and by cicero to atticus, iv., . he was, in point of law, considered as having a freehold, in his office, and therefore he could not be deprived, by ecclesiastical censure. it was his duty to attend upon the rector, and to take no unimportant part, in all those inestimable forms, and ceremonies, and circumgyrations, and genuflections, which render the worship of the high church so exceedingly picturesque. the sexton of the pope's chapel was selected, from the order of the hermits of st. augustine, and was commonly a bishop. his title was _prefect of the pope's sacristy_. when the pope said mass, the sexton always tasted the bread and wine first. and, when the pope was desperately sick, the sexton gave him extreme unction. i recite these facts, that the original dignity of our office may be understood. the employment of sextons has been rather singular, in some countries. m. outhier states, that, when he visited the church of st. clara, at stockholm, he observed the sexton, during the sermon, with a long rod, waking those, who had fallen asleep. i fully believe, that the sextons of this city are all honorable men; and yet it cannot be denied, that the solemn occasion, upon which their services are required, is one, upon which, pride and sensibility forbid all higgling, on the part of the customer. however oppressively the charge of consigning a relative to the ground may bear, upon one of slender means, the tongue of complaint is effectually tied. the consciousness of this furnishes a strong temptation to imposition. the same desire to promote the public good, which induced mr. bentham to give his body for dissection, has led distinguished individuals, now and then, to prescribe simple and inexpensive obsequies, for themselves. livy says, book , sec. , that marcus emilius lepidus directed his sons to bury him without parade, and at a very small charge. as he was the pontifex maximus, possessed of wealth, and of a generous spirit, the promotion of the public good was the only motive. cheating at funerals was as common at athens, as at rome. demades, as seneca relates, book , ch. , _de beneficiis_, condemned an unprincipled athenian sexton, for extortion, in furnishing out funerals. the friends and relatives are so busy with their sorrow, that they have neither time nor taste, for the examination of accounts, and, least of all, such as concern the obsequies of near friends. i was never more forcibly impressed with the truth, that, where the carcass is, there the vultures will be gathered together, than in the little island of st. croix, during the winter of . i was there with a friend, a clergyman, who visited that island, for the restoration of his wife's health. she died. her remains were never buried there, but brought to this city, and here interred. in that island there is a tribunal, called the _dealing court_, analogous to the court of probate, or orphan's court, in this country. in less than forty-eight hours, a bill was presented, from this court, for "_dealing_" with the estate of the deceased. she had no estate; no act had been done. "true, but such is the custom of our island--such is the law of denmark." after taking counsel, the bill was paid. the danish lutheran is the established religion of the island. the episcopal lives, by sufferance. a few days after this lady's decease, a bill was presented, from the officers of the _danish lutheran_ church, for granting permission to dig her grave, in the _episcopal_ ground. it was objected, that no permission had been asked, that no burial had been intended, that the body had been placed in spirits, for its removal to the united states. it was replied, "such is the usage of the island; the permission is granted, and may be used or not; such is the law of denmark." shortly after this, a bill was presented, for digging the grave. it was in vain to protest, as before, and to assert, that no grave had been dug. the answer was the same; "the grave must be paid for; it will be dug or not, as you wish; such is the usage of the island; such is the law of denmark." in due time, another demand was made, for carrying round invitations, and attendance upon the funeral. it was useless to say, that no invitations were sent--no funeral was had. "such is the custom of the island; such is the law of denmark." the reader, by this time, will be satisfied, that something is rotten in denmark; this narrative appears so very improbable, that i deem it right to assure the reader the circumstances are stated faithfully, and that the clergyman referred to, is still living. in commending a respectable frugality, in our dealings with the dead, not only with regard to their obsequies, but in relation to sepulchral and monumental expenditure, i oppose the interest of our profession, and cannot be accused of any selfish motive. a chaste simplicity is due to the occasion; for surely no more illy chosen hour can be given to the gratification of pride, than that, in which the very pride of man is humbled in the dust. how often have my thoughts descended from the costly, sculptured obelisk, to the carnival of worms below! a well-set example of comely modesty, in these matters, would be productive of much advantage to the community. the man of common means, if he happen to be also a man of common sense, will not imitate the man of opulence, in the splendor of his equipage or furniture. but he will too readily enter into what he deems a righteous rivalry of funereal parade, and leave his debts unpaid, rather than abate one cubit, in the height of his monument, or obelisk. it is not now the custom to bury with the dead, or deposit with their ashes, as in urn burial, articles of use and value to the living. we have been taught, that those graves are the least likely to be violated, in which are deposited little else than mortal remains. but, in a certain sense, the dead can no longer be said to carry nothing with them. the silver and its workmanship alone, which are annually buried, furnish no inconsiderable item. the outer coffin of nathan meyer rothschild "was of fine oak, and so handsomely carved and decorated with massive silver handles, at both sides and ends, that it appeared more like a cabinet, or splendid piece of furniture, than a receptacle of the dead. a raised tablet of oak, on the breast, was carved with the arms of the deceased." the arms of the deceased! very edifying to the worms, those cunning operatives, who work so skilfully, in silence and darkness! the arms of the deceased! matthew prior had some shrewd notions of heraldry. he wrote his own epitaph-- heralds and nobles, by your leave, here lie the bones of matthew prior; the son of adam and of eve; let bourbon and nassau go higher. no. xvii. my attention has been called, by a young disciple of the great pontraci, "a sexton of the new school," to an interesting anecdote, which i have heard related, in days by-gone, and which has, more than once, appeared in print. it is, by many, believed, that the remains of major pitcairn, which were supposed to have been sent home to england, are still in this country, and that those of lieutenant shea were transmitted, by mistake. whether _he_ or _shea_ will ever remain doubtful. major pitcairn was killed, as is well known, at the battle of bunker's hill. shea died of inflammation on the brain. they were alike in size. on the top of the head of the body, selected by the sexton of christ church, as the remains of major pitcairn, it is stated, there was a blistering plaster; and, from this circumstance, the impression has arisen, that the monument in westminster abbey, however sacred to the memory of pitcairn, stands over the remains of lieutenant shea. there is not more uncertainty, in relation to the remains of major pitcairn, than has existed, in regard to the individual, by whose hands he fell; though it is now agreed, that he was shot by a black soldier, named salem. fifty men, at the lowest estimate, have died in the faith, that they killed pitcairn. he was a man of large stature, fearless, and ever in the van, as he is represented by marshall, at the battle of lexington. he was a palpable mark, for the muskets and rifles of the sharp-shooters. it is not improbable, that fifty barrels were levelled at his person, when he fell; and hence fifty claimants, for the merit of pitcairn's destruction. upon precisely similar grounds, rest the claims of col. johnson, for the killing of tecumseh. when the flesh has gone and nothing but the bones remain, it is almost impossible, to recognize the remains of any particular individual, buried hastily, as the fallen commonly are, after a battle, in one common grave; unless we are directed, by certain external indicia. in april, , i officiated at the funeral of dr. john warren, brother of the patriot and soldier, who fell so gloriously, at bunker's hill, and whose death was said, by the british general, howe, to be an offset, for five hundred men. dr. james jackson delivered the eulogy, on dr. john warren, in king's chapel. general warren was buried in the trenches, where he so bravely fell; and, when disinterred, in , for removal to boston, the remains were identified, by an inspection of the teeth, upon which an operation had been performed, the evidence of which remained. this testimony was doubtless corroborated, by the mark of the bullet on his forehead; for he was not a man to be wounded in the back. "the bullet which terminated his life," says mr. a. h. everett in his memoir, "was taken from the body, by mr. savage, an officer in the custom house, and was carried by him to england. several years afterwards, it was given by him at london, to the rev. mr. montague of dedham, massachusetts, and is now in possession of his family." these translations of the dead, from place to place, are full of uncertainty; and hence has arisen a marvellous and successful system of jugglery and priestcraft. the first translation of this kind, stated by brady, in his clavis, is that of edward, king of the west saxons. he was removed with great pomp from wareham to the minster of salisbury. three years only had passed since his burial, and no error is imputed, in the relation. in the year , the emperor constantius was moved, by the spirit, to do something in this line; and he caused the remains of st. andrew and st. luke to be translated, from their original resting-places, to the temple of the twelve apostles, at constantinople. some little doubt might be supposed to hang over the question of identity, after such a lapse of years, in this latter case. from this eminent example, arose that eager search for the remains of saints, martyrs, and relics of various descriptions, which, for many centuries, filled the pockets of imposters, with gold, and the world, with idolatry. so great was the success of those, engaged in this lucrative employment, that john the baptist became a perfect hydra. heads of this great pioneer were discovered, in every direction. some of the apostles were found, upon careful search, to be centipedes; and others to have had as many hands as briareus. these monstrosities were too vast to be swallowed, without a miracle. father john freand, of anecy, assured the faithful, that god was pleased to multiply these remains for their devotion. consecration has been refused to churches, unprovided with relics. their production therefore became indispensable. all the wines, produced in _oporto_ and _zeres de la frontera_, furnish not a fourth part of the liquor, drunken, in london alone, under the names of port and sherry; and the bones of all the martyrs, were it possible to collect them, would not supply the occasions of the numerous churches, in catholic countries. misson says eleven holy lances are shown, in different places, for the true lance, that pierced the side of christ. many egregious sinners have undoubtedly been dug up, and their bones worshipped, as the relics of genuine saints. though not precisely to our purpose, it may not be uninteresting to the reader, to contemplate a catalogue of some few of the relics, exhibited to the faithful, as they are enumerated, by bayle, butler, misson, brady and others;--the lance--a piece of the cross--one of christ's nails--five thorns of the crown--st. peter's chain--a piece of the manger--a tooth of john the baptist--one of st. anne's arms--the towel, with which christ wiped the feet of the apostles--one of his teeth--his seamless coat--the hem of his garment, which cured the diseased woman--a tear, which he shed over lazarus, preserved by an angel, who gave it, in a vial, to mary magdalene--a piece of st. john the evangelist's gown--a piece of the table cloth, used at the last supper--a finger of st. andrew--a finger of john the baptist--a rib of our lord--the thumb of st. thomas--a lock of mary magdalene's hair--two handkerchiefs, bearing impressions of christ's face; one sent by our lord, as a present to aquarus, prince of edessa; and the other given by him, at the foot of the cross, to a holy woman, named veronica--the hem of joseph's garment--a feather of the holy ghost--a finger of the holy ghost--a feather of the angel gabriel--the waterpots, used at the marriage in galilee--enoch's slippers--a vial of the sweat of st. michael, at the time of his set-to with the devil. this short list furnishes a meagre show-box of that immense mass of merchandise, which formed the staple of priestcraft. these pretended relics were not only procured, at vast expense, but were occasionally given, and received, as collateral security for debts. baldwin ii. sent the point of the holy lance to venice, as a pledge for a loan. it was redeemed by st. lewis, king of france, who caused it to be placed in the holy chapel at paris. the importation of this species of trumpery, into england, was forbidden, by many statutes; and, by . jac. i., cap. , justices were empowered to search houses for such things, and to burn them. it is pleasant to turn from these shadowy records to matters of reality and truth. there was an exhumation, some years ago, of the remains of a highly honorable and truly gallant man, for the purpose of returning them to his native land. suspicions of a painful nature arose, in connection with that exhumation. those suspicions were cleared away, most happily, by a venerable friend of mine, with whom i have conversed upon that interesting topic. i will give some account of the removal of major andré's remains, in my next. no. xviii. major john andré, aid-de-camp to general clinton, and adjutant general of the british army, was, as every well-read school-boy knows, hanged as a spy, october , , at tappan, a town of new york, about five miles from the north bank of the hudson. in june, , by a vote of the legislature of new york, the remains of that gallant irishman, major general richard montgomery, were removed from quebec. col. l. livingston, his nephew, superintended the exhumation and removal. an old soldier, who had attended the funeral, forty-two years before, pointed out the grave. these relics were committed to the ground, once more, in st. paul's church-yard in new york; and, by direction of the congress of the united states, a costly marble monument was erected there, executed by m. cassieres, at paris. nothing was omitted of pomp and pageantry, in honor of the gallant dead. still the remains of andré, whose fate was deeply deplored, however just the punishment--still they continued, in that resting place, humble and obscure, to which they had been consigned, when taken from the gallows. the lofty honors, bestowed upon montgomery, operated as a stimulus and a rebuke. mr. james buchanan, the british consul, admits their influence, in his memorable letter. he addressed a communication to the duke of york, then commander-in-chief of the british army, suggesting the propriety of exhumating the remains of andré, and returning them to england. the necessary orders were promptly issued, and mr. buchanan made his arrangements for the exhumation. mr. demarat, a baptist clergyman, at tappan, was the proprietor of the little field, where the remains of andré had been buried, and where they had reposed, for forty-one years, when, in the autumn of , mr. buchanan requested permission to remove them. his intentions had become known--some human brute--some christian dog, had sought to purchase, or to rent, the field of mr. demarat, for the purpose of extorting money, for permission to remove these relics. but the good man and true rejected the base proposal, and afforded every facility in his power. a narrow pathway led to the eminence, where andré had suffered--the grave was there, covered with a few loose stones and briars. there was nothing beside, to mark the spot--i am wrong--woman, who was last at the cross, and first at the tomb, had been there--there was a peach tree, which a lady had planted at the head, and whose roots had penetrated to the very bottom of the shallow grave, and entered the frail shell, and enveloped the skull with its fibres. dr. thacher, in a note to page of his military journal, says, that the roots of two cedar trees "had wrapped themselves round the skull bone, like a fine netting." this is an error. two cedars grew near the grave, which were sent to england, with the remains. the point, where these relics lay, commanded a view of the surrounding country, and of the head-quarters of washington, about a mile and a half distant. the field, which contained about ten acres, was cultivated--a small part only, around the consecrated spot, remained untilled. upon the day of the exhumation, a multitude had gathered to the spot. after digging three feet from the surface, the operative paused, and announced, that his spade had touched the top of the coffin. the excitement was so great, at this moment, that it became necessary to form a cordon, around the grave. mr. buchanan proceeded carefully to remove the remaining earth, with his hands--a portion of the cover had been decomposed. when, at last, the entire top had been removed, the remains of this brave and unfortunate young man were exposed to view. the skeleton was in perfect order. "there," says mr. buchanan, "for the first time, i discovered that he had been a small man." one by one, the assembled crowd passed round, and gazed upon the remains of andré, whose fate had excited such intense and universal sensibility. these relics were then carefully transferred to a sarcophagus, prepared for their reception, and conveyed to england. they now repose beneath the sixth window, in the south aisle of westminster abbey. the monument near which they lie, was designed by robert adam, and executed by van gelder. britannia reclines on a sarcophagus, and upon the pedestal is inscribed--"sacred to the memory of major andré, who, raised by his merit, at an early period of life, to the rank of adjutant general of the british forces in america, and, employed in an important but hazardous enterprise, fell a sacrifice to his zeal for his king and country, on d of october, , aged twenty-nine, universally beloved and esteemed by the army, in which he served, and lamented even by his foes. his generous sovereign, king george iii., has caused this monument to be erected." nothing could have been prepared, in better taste. here is not the slightest allusion to that great question, which posterity, having attained full age, has already, definitively, settled--the justice of his fate. a box, wrought from one of the cedar trees, and lined with gold, was transmitted to mr. demarat, by the duke of york; and a silver inkstand was presented to mr. james buchanan, by the surviving sisters of major andré. thus far, all things were in admirable keeping. it was, therefore, a matter of deep regret, that mr. james buchanan should have thought proper to disturb their harmony, by suggestions, painfully offensive to every american heart. those suggestions, it is true, have been acknowledged to be entirely groundless. but that gentleman's original letter, extensively circulated here, and transmitted to england, has, undoubtedly, conveyed these offensive insinuations, where the subsequent admission of his error is not likely to follow. mr. buchanan, on the strength of some loose suggestions, at tappan, and elsewhere, corroborated by an examination of the contents of the coffin, had assumed it to be true, or highly probable, that the body of andré had been stripped, after the execution, from mercenary, or other equally unworthy, motives. this impression he hastily conveyed to the world. i will endeavor to present this matter, in its true light, in my next communication. no. xix. after having removed the entire cover of andré's coffin, "i descended," says mr. buchanan, "and, with my own hands, raked the dust together, to ascertain whether he had been buried in his regimentals, or not, as it was rumored, among the assemblage, that he was stripped: for, if buried in his regimentals, i expected to find the buttons of his clothes, which would have disproved the rumor; but i did not find a single button, nor any article, save a string of leather, that had tied his hair." mr. buchanan had evidently arrived at the conclusion, that andré had been stripped. in this conclusion he was perfectly right. he had also inferred, that this act had been done, with base motives. in this inference, he was perfectly wrong. "those," continues he, "who permitted the outrage, or who knew of it, had no idea, that the unfeeling act they then performed would be blazoned to the world, near half a century, after the event." all this is entirely gratuitous and something worse. general washington's head-quarters were near at hand. every circumstance was sure to be reported, for the excitement was intense; and the knowledge of such an act, committed for any unworthy purpose, would have been instantly conveyed to sir henry clinton, and blazoned to the world, some forty years before the period of mr. buchanan's discovery. dr. james thacher, in his military journal, states, that andré was executed "in his royal regimentals, and buried in the same." dr. thacher was mistaken, and when he saw the letter of mr. buchanan, and the offensive imputation it contained, he investigated the subject anew, and addressed a letter to that gentleman, which was received by him, in a becoming spirit, and which entirely dissipated his former impressions. in that letter, dr. thacher stated, that he was within a few yards of andré, at the time of his execution, and that he suffered in his regimentals. supposing, as a matter of course, that andré would be buried in them, dr. thacher had stated that, also, as a fact, though he did not remain, to witness the interment. he then refers to a letter, which he has discovered in the continental journal and weekly advertiser, of october , , printed in boston, by john gill. this letter bears date, tappan, october , the day of the execution, and details all the particulars, and in it are these words--"_he was dressed in full uniform; and, after the execution, his servant demanded the uniform, which he received. his body was buried near the gallows_." "this," says dr. thacher, "confirms the correctness of my assertion, that he suffered in his regimentals, but not that they were buried with the body. i had retired from the scene, before the body was placed in the coffin; but i have a perfect recollection of seeing him hand his hat to the weeping servant, while standing in the cart." mr. buchanan observes, that an aged widow, who kept the toll-gate, on hearing the object stated, was so much gratified, that she suffered all carriages to pass free. "it marks strongly," he continues, "the sentiments of the american people at large, as to a transaction, which a great part of the british public have forgotten." this passage is susceptible of a twofold construction. it may mean, that this aged widow and the american people at large were unanimous, in lamenting the fate of major andré--that they most truly believed him to have been brave and unfortunate. it may also mean, that they considered the fate of andré to have been unwarranted. posterity has adjusted this matter very differently. nearly sixty-eight years have passed. all excitement has long been buried, in a deeper grave than andré's. a silent admission has gone forth, far and wide, of the perfect justice of andré's execution. a board of general officers was appointed, to prepare a statement of his case. greene, steuben, and lafayette were of that board. they were perfectly unanimous in their opinion. prodigious efforts were made on his behalf. he himself addressed several letters to washington, and one, the day before his death, in which he says: "sympathy towards a soldier will surely induce your excellency and a military tribunal to adapt the mode of my death to the feelings of a man of honor." the board of officers, as gordon states, were induced to gratify this wish, with the exception of greene. he contended, that the laws of war required, that a spy should be hung; the adoption of any less rigorous mode of punishment would excite the belief, that palliatory circumstances existed in the case of andré, and that the decision might thereby be brought into question. his arguments were sound, and they prevailed. major andré received every attention, which his condition permitted. he wrote to sir henry clinton, sept. , , three days before his execution--"i receive the greatest attention from his excellency, general washington, and from every person, under whose charge i happen to be placed." captain hale, like major andré, was young, brave, amiable, and accomplished. he entered upon the same perilous service, that conducted andré to his melancholy fate. hale was hanged, as a spy, at long island. thank god, the brutal treatment he received was not retaliated upon andré. "the provost martial," says mr. sparks, "was a refugee, to whose charge he was consigned, and treated him, in the most unfeeling manner, refusing the attendance of a clergyman, and the use of a bible; and destroying the letters he had written, to his mother and friends." the execution of major andré was in perfect conformity with the laws of war. had sir henry clinton considered his fate unwarranted, under any just construction of those laws, he would undoubtedly have expressed that opinion, in the general orders, to the british army, announcing major andré's death. these orders, bearing date oct. , , refer only to his _unfortunate fate_. they contain not the slightest allusion to any supposed injustice, or unaccustomed severity, in the execution, or the manner of it. the fate of andré might have been averted, in two ways--by a steady resistance of arnold's senseless importunity, to bring him within the american lines--and by a frank and immediate presentation of arnold's pass, when stopped by paulding, williams, and van wart. his loss of self-possession, at that critical moment, is remarkable, for, as americans, they would, in all human probability, have suffered him to pass, without further examination; and, had they been of the opposite party, they would certainly have conducted him to some british post--the very haven where he would be. no. xx. how shall _we_ deal with the dead? we have considered the usages of many nations, in different ages of the world. some of these usages appear sufficiently revolting; especially such as relate to secondary burial, or the transfer of the dead, from their primary resting-places, to vast, miscellaneous receptacles. the desire is almost universal, that, when summoned to lie down in the grave, the dead may never be disturbed, by the hand of man--that our remains may return quietly to dust--unobserved by mortal eye. there is no part of this humiliating process, that is not painful and revolting to the beholder. of this the ancients had the same impression. cremation and embalming set corruption and the worm at defiance. other motives, i am aware, have been assigned for the former. the execution of popular vengeance upon the poor remains of those, whose memory has become odious, during a revolution, is not uncommon. a ludicrous example of this occurred, when santa anna became unpopular, and the furious mob seized his leg, which had been amputated, embalmed, and deposited among the public treasures, and cooled their savage anger, by kicking the miserable member all over the city of montezuma. in the time of sylla, cremation was not so common as interment; but sylla, remembering the indignity he had offered to the body of marius, enjoined, that his own body should be burnt. there was, doubtless, another motive for this practice among the ancients. the custom prevailed extensively, at one time, of burying the dead, in the cellars of houses. i have already referred to the theban law, which required the construction of a suitable receptacle for the dead, in every house. interment certainly preceded cremation. cicero de legibus, lib. , asserts, that interment prevailed among the athenians, in the time of cecrops, their first king. in the earlier days of rome, both were employed. numa was _buried_ in conformity with a special clause in his will. remus, as ovid, fast. iv. , asserts, was _burnt_. the accumulation of dead bodies in cellars, or subcellars, must have become intolerable. this practice undoubtedly gave rise to the whole system of household gods, lares, lemures, larvæ, and manes. such an accumulation of ancestors, it may well be supposed, left precious little room for the amphoræ of chian, lesbian, and falernian. young aspirants sometimes inwardly opine, that their living ancestors take up too much room. such was very naturally the opinion of the ancients, in relation to the dead. like françois pontraci, they began to feel the necessity of condensation; and cremation came to be more commonly adopted. the bones of a human being, reduced to ashes, require but little room; and not much more, though the decomposition by fire be not quite perfect. let me say to those, who think i prefer cremation, as a substitute for interment, that i do not. it has found little favor for many centuries. it seems to have been employed, in the case of shelley, the poet. however desirable, when the remains of the dead were to be deposited in the dwelling-houses of the living, cremation and urn burial are quite unnecessary, wherever there is no want of ground for cemeteries, in proper locations. the funereal urns of the ancients were of different sizes and forms, and of materials, more or less costly, according to the ability and taste of the surviving friends. ammianus marcellinus relates, that gumbrates, king of chionia, near persia, burnt the body of his son, and placed the ashes in a _silver_ urn. mr. wedgewood had the celebrated portland vase in his possession, for a year, and made casts of it. this was the vase, which had been in possession of the barberini family, for nearly two centuries, and for which the duke of portland gave mr. hamilton one thousand guineas. in the minds of very many, the idea of considerable size has been associated with this vase. yet, in fact, it is about ten inches high, and six broad. the wedgewood casts may be seen, in many of our glass and china shops. this vase was discovered, about the middle of the sixteenth century, two and a half miles from rome, on the frescati road, in a marble sarcophagus, within a sepulchral chamber. this, doubtless, was a funereal urn. the urns, dug up, in old walsingham, in , were quite similar, in form, to the portland vase, excepting that they were without ears. some fifty were found in a sandy soil, about three feet deep, a short distance from an old roman garrison, and only five miles from brancaster, the ancient branodunum. four of these vases are figured, in browne's hydriotaphia; some of them contained about two pounds of bones; several were of the capacity of a gallon, and some of half that size. it may seem surprising, that a human body can be reduced to such a compass. "how the bulk of a man should sink into so few pounds of bones and ashes may seem strange unto any, who consider not its constitution, and how slender a mass will remain upon an open and urging fire, of the carnal composition. even bones themselves, reduced into ashes, do abate a notable proportion." such are the words of good old sir thomas. it was an adage of old, "he that lies in a golden urn, will find no quiet for his bones." if the costliness of the material offered no temptation to the avarice of man, still, after centuries have given them the stamp of antiquity, these urns and their contents become precious, in the eyes of the lovers of _vertu_. there is no security from impertinent meddling with our remains, so certain, as a speedy conversion into undistinguishable dust. sir thomas browne manifestly inclined to cremation. "to be gnawed," says he, "out of our graves, to have our skulls made drinking bowls, and our bones turned into pipes, to delight and sport our enemies, are tragical abominations, escaped in burning burials." such anticipations are certainly unpleasant. an ingenious device was adopted by alaricus--he appointed the spot for his grave, and directed, that the course of a river should be so changed, as to flow over it. it has been said, that certain soils possess a preserving quality. i am inclined to think the secret commonly lies, in some peculiar, constitutional quality, in the dead subject; for, wherever cases of remarkable preservation have occurred, corruption has been found generally to have done its full day's work, on all around. if such quality really exist in the soil, it is certainly undesirable. those who were opposed to the evacuation of the cemetery des innocens, in the sixteenth century, attempted to set up in its favor the improbable pretension, that it consumed bodies in nine days. burton, in his description of leicestershire, states, that the body of thomas, marquis of dorset, "was found perfect, and nothing corrupted, the flesh not hardened, but in color, proportion and softness, like an ordinary corpse, newly to be interred," after seventy-eight years' burial. a remarkable case of posthumous preservation occurred, in a village near boston. the very exalted character of the professional gentleman, who examined the corpse, after it had been entombed, for forty years, gives the interest of authenticity to the statement. justice fuller, the father-in-law of that political victim, general william hull, _who was neither a coward nor a traitor_, was buried in a family tomb, in newton centre. it was ascertained, and, from time to time, reported, that the body remained uncorrupted and entire. mr. fuller was about , when he died, and very corpulent. about forty years after his burial, dr. john c. warren, by permission of the family, with the physician of the village, and other gentlemen, examined the body of mr. fuller. the coffin was somewhat decomposed. so were the burial clothes. the body presented, everywhere, a natural skin, excepting on one leg, on which there had been an ulcer. there decomposition had taken place. the skin was generally of a dark brown color, and hard like dried leather; and so well preserved, about the face, that persons, present with dr. warren, said they should have recognized the features of justice fuller. my business lies not with the physiology, however curious the speculation may be. were it possible, by any means, to perpetuate the dead, in a similar manner, it would be wholly undesirable. dust we are, and unto dust must we return. the question is still before us,--how shall _we_ deal with the dead? no. xxi. it is commonly supposed, that the burial of articles of value with the dead, is a practice confined to the indian tribes, and the inhabitants of unenlightened regions; who fancied, that the defunct were gone upon some far journey, during which such accompaniments would be useful. such is not the fact. chilperic, the fourth king of france, came to the throne a. d. . in the tomb of chilperic was accidentally discovered, in tournay, "restoring unto the world," saith sir thomas browne, vol. , p. , "much gold adorning his sword, two hundred rubies, many hundred imperial coins, three hundred golden bees, the bones and horse-shoes of his horse, interred with him, according to the barbarous magnificence of those days, in their sepulchral obsequies." stow relates, in his survey of london, that, in many of the funeral urns, found in spitalfields, there were, mingled with the relics, coins of claudius, vespasian, commodus, and antoninus, with lachrymatories, lamps, bottles of liquor, &c. as an old sexton, i have a right to give my advice; and the public have a right to reject it. if i were the owner of a lot, in some well-governed cemetery, i would place around it a neat, substantial, iron fence, and paint it black. in the centre i would have a simple monument, of white marble, and of liberal dimensions; not pyramidal, but with four rectangular faces, to receive a goodly number of memoranda, not one of which should exceed a single line. i would have no other monument, slab, or tablet, to indicate particular graves. i would have a plan of this lot, and preserve it, as carefully, as i preserved my title papers. probably i should keep a duplicate, in some safe place. when a body came to be buried, in that lot, i would indicate the precise location, on my plan, and engrave the name and the date of birth, and death, and nothing more, upon the monument. if the dryness and elevation of the soil allowed, i would dig the graves so deep, that the remains of three persons could repose in one grave, the uppermost, five or six feet below the surface. after the burial of the first, the grave would be filled up, and an even, sodded surface presented, as before, until re-opened. thus, of course, those, who had been lovely and pleasant, in their lives, like jonathan and saul, would, in death, be not divided. this, so far from being objectionable, is a delightful idea, embalmed in the classical precedents of antiquity. it is a well-known fact, that urns of a very large size were, occasionally, in use, in greece and rome, for the reception and commingling of the ashes of whole families. the ashes of achilles were mingled with those of his friend, patroclus. the ashes of domitian, the last, and almost the worst, of the twelve cæsars, were inurned, as suetonius reports, ch. , with those of julia. with the chinese, it is very common to bury a comb, a pair of scissors to pare the nails, and four little purses, containing the nail parings of the defunct. jewels and coins of gold are sometimes inserted in the mouths of the wealthy. this resembles the practice of the greeks and romans, of placing an obolus, charon's fee, in the mouth of the deceased. this arrangement, in regard to the nail parings, seems well enough, as they are clearly part and parcel, of the defunct. rings, coins, and costly chalices have been found, with the ashes of the dead. avarice, curiosity, and revenge, personal or political, have prompted mankind, in every age, to desecrate the receptacles of the dead. the latter motive has operated more fiercely, upon the people of france, than upon almost any other. no nation has ever surpassed them, in that intense ardor, nor in the parade and magnificence, with which they _canonize_--no people upon earth can rival the bitterness and fury, with which they _curse_. lamartine, in his history of the girondists, states, that "dragoons of the republic spread themselves over the public places, brandishing their swords, and singing national airs. thence they went to the church of val de grace, where, enclosed in silver urns, were the hearts of several kings and queens of france. these funeral vases they broke, trampling under foot those relics of royalty, and then flung them into the common sewer." and how shall _we_ deal with the dead? with a reasonable economy of space, a lot of the common area, at mount auburn, or forest hills, will suffice, for the occasion of a family of ordinary size, for several generations. in re-opening one of these graves, for a second or third interment, the operative should never approach nearer than one foot to the coffin beneath. the careless manner, in which bones are sometimes spaded up, by grave-diggers, results from their want of precise knowledge of previous inhumations. common sense indicates the propriety of keeping a regular, topographical account of every interment. but it is quite time to bring these lucubrations to a close. to some they may have proved interesting, and, doubtless, wearisome to others. the account is therefore balanced. most heartily do i wish for every one of my readers a decent funeral, and a peaceful grave. i have tolled my last knell, turned down my last sod, and am no longer a sexton of the old school. no. xxii. some commendatory passages, in your own and other journals, my dear mr. transcript, seem very much to me like a theatrical _encore_--they half persuade me to reappear. there are other considerations, which i cannot resist. twenty devils, saith the spanish proverb, employ that man, who employeth not himself. i am quite sensible of my error, in quitting an old vocation prematurely. you have no conception of the severe depression of spirits, produced in the mind of an old sexton, who, in an evil hour, has cast his spade aside, and set up for a man of leisure. it may answer for a short time--a very short time. i can honestly declare, that i have led a wearisome life, since i gave up undertaking. many have been the expedients i have adopted, to relieve the oppressive tedium of my miserable days. the funeral bell has aroused me, as the trumpet rouses an old war horse. how many processions i have followed, as an amateur! one or two young men of the craft have been exceedingly kind to me, and have given me notice, whenever they have been employed upon a new grave, and have permitted me to amuse myself, by performing a portion of the work. my own condition, since i left off business, and tried the terrible experiment of living on my income, and doing nothing, has frequently and forcibly reminded me of a similar passage, in the history of my excellent old friend, simon allwick, the tallow-chandler, with whom i had the happiness of living, in the closest intimacy, and whom i had the pleasure of burying, about twenty years ago. mr. allwick was a thrifty man; and, having acquired a handsome property, his ambitious partner persuaded him to abandon his greasy occupation, and set up for a gentleman. this was by no means, the work of a day. mr. allwick loved his wife--she was an affectionate creature; and, next to the small matter of having her own way in everything, she certainly loved allwick, as her prime minister, in bringing that matter about. she was what is commonly called a devoted wife. man is, marvellously, the creature of habit. so completely had allwick become that creature, that, when his partner, upon the occasion of an excursion, as far as jamaica pond, for which allwick literally tore himself away from the chandlery, could not restrain her admiration of that pretty, pet lake, he candidly confessed, that he felt nothing of the sort. and, when mrs. allwick exclaimed, with uplifted hands and tears in her eyes, that, in a cottage, on the borders of such a lake, she should be the happiest of the happy--"so should i, my dear," said her husband, with a sigh, so heavily drawn, that it seemed four to the pound--"so should i, my dear, if the lake were a vat of clear melted tallow, and i had a plenty of sticks and wicks." suffice it to say, mrs. allwick had set her heart upon the measure. she had a confidential friend or two, to whom she had communicated the _projét_: her pride had therefore become enlisted; for she had given them to understand, that she meant to have her own way. she commenced an uncompromising crusade, against grease, in every form. she complained, that grease spots were upon everything. she engaged the services of a young physician, who gave it, as his deliberate opinion, that mr. allwick's headaches arose from the deleterious influence of the fumes of hot grease, acting through the olfactory nerves, upon the pineal gland. he even expressed a fear, that insanity might supervene, and he furnished an account of an eminent tallow-chandler in london, who went raving mad, and leaping into his own vat of boiling grease, was drawn out, no better than a great candle. it was a perfect _coup de grace_, when mrs. allwick drove candles from her dwelling, and substituted oil. the chandlery adjoined their residence, in scrap court; and it must be admitted, that, with the wind at south, the odor was not particularly savory. mrs. allwick was what the world would style a smart woman, and she was in the habit of calling her husband a very _wicked_ man and their mansion the most unclassical villa, though in the very midst of _grease_! it is quite superfluous to say, the point was finally carried--the chandlery was sold--a country house was purchased, not on the lake, but in a sweet spot. there was some little embarrassment about the name, but two wild gooseberry bushes having been discovered, within half a mile, it was resolved, in council, to call it mount gooseberry. since the going forth of adam from eden, in misery and shame, never was there such an exodus, as that of poor allwick from the chandlery. i have not time to describe it. i am glad i have not. it was too much. even mrs. allwick began to doubt the perfect wisdom of her plan. but the die was cast. on they went to their el dorado. it was a pleasant spot. it was "a bonnie day in june." the birds were in ecstacies--so was mrs. allwick--so were the children--the sun shone--the stream ran beautifully by--the leaves still glistened in the morning dew--there was a sprinkling of lambs on the hills--old cato was at the door, to welcome them, and carlo most affectionately covered the white frocks of the children with mud. "was there ever anything like this?" exclaimed the delighted wife. "isn't it a perfect pink, papa?" cried the children. in answer to all this, the _jecur ulcerosum_ of poor allwick sent forth a deep groan, that shook the very walls of his tabernacle. the mind of man is a mill, and will grind chaff if nothing more substantial be supplied; and, peradventure, the upper will grind the nether millstone to destruction. for a brief space, mr. allwick found employment. fences were to be completed--trees and bushes were to be set out--the furniture was to be arranged--but all this was soon over, and there was my good old friend, simon allwick, the busiest man alive, with nothing to do! never was there a heart, in the bosom of a tallow-chandler, so perfectly "untravelled." poor fellow, he went "up stairs and down stairs, and in my lady's chamber," but all to no other purpose, than to confirm him, in a sentiment of profound respect, for that homely proverb, _it is hard for an old dog to learn new tricks_. "where is your father?" said mrs. allwick to the children, after breakfast, one awful hot morning, near the end of june. the children went in pursuit--there he was--he had sought to occupy his thoughts, by watching the gambols of some half a dozen byfield cokies--there he was--he had rested his arms upon the rail of the fence, and had been looking into the sty--his chin had dropped upon his hands--he had fallen asleep! he was mortified and nettled, at being found thus, and continued in a moody condition, through the day. on the following morning, he went to the city, and remained till night. his spirits were greatly improved, on his return; and to some felicitations from his wife and family, he replied--"my dear, i feel better, certainly; and i have made an arrangement, which, i think, will enable me to get along pretty comfortably--i have seen mr. smith, to whom i sold the chandlery, and have extended the term of payment. he still dips on mondays, wednesdays, and fridays, and has agreed to set a kettle of fat and some sticks for me, in the little closet, near the back door, that i may slip in, and amuse myself, on dipping days." i ought to have been warned, by this example; but i had quite forgotten it. it is very agreeable to be thus welcomed back to the performance of my former duties. no one, but he, who is deprived of some long-cherished occupation, can truly comprehend the pleasure of occasionally handling a corpse. no. xxiii. few things can be imagined, more thoroughly revolting and absurd, than the vengeance of the living, rioting among the ashes of the dead--rudely rolling the stone away from the door of the sepulchre--entering the narrow houses of the unresisting, _vi et armis_, with the pickaxe and the crowbar--and scattering to the winds the poor senseless remains of those, who were consigned to their resting-places, with all the honors of a former age. this, were it not awful, would be eminently ridiculous. for the execution of such posthumous revenge the french nation has the precedence of every other, civilized and savage. frenchmen, if not, through all time, from the days of pharamond to the present, remarkably zealous of good works, are clearly a peculiar people. the history of the world furnishes no parallel to that preposterous crusade, carried on by that people, in , against the dead bodies of kings and princes, saints and martyrs. this war, upon dead men's bones, was not projected and executed, by the rabble, on the impulse of the moment. a formal, deliberate decree of the convention commanded, that the tombs should be destroyed, and they were destroyed, and their contents scattered to the winds, accordingly. talk not of all that is furious and fantastical, in the conduct of monkeys and maniacs--a nation of chimpanzees would have acted with more dignity and discretion. a colony of grinning baboons, as shakspeare calls them, bent upon liberty, equality, and fraternity, might have dethroned some tyrannical ourang outang, who had carried matters with too high a hand, and extorted too many cocoa nuts, for the support of his civil list; but, after having cut off his head, it is not to be believed, that they would have gone about, scratching up the ashes of his ancestors, and wreaking their vengeance upon those unoffending relics. this miserable onslaught upon the dead began, immediately after december , . the new worship commenced on that day, and the goddess of reason then, for the first time, presented herself to the people, in the person of the celebrated actress, mademoiselle maillard. st. genevieve, the patroness of the city of paris, died in , and her remains were subsequently transferred to the church, which bears her name, and which was erected, by clovis, in . the executive agents of the national convention commenced their legalized fooleries, upon the ashes of this poor old saint. these french gentlemen--the politest nation upon earth--without the slightest regard for decency, or sanctification, or common sense, dug up madame genevieve's coffin, and, to aggravate the indignity, dragged the old lady's remains to the place of public execution, the _place de grève_; and, having burnt them there, scattered the ashes to the winds. the gates of bronze, presented by charlemagne to the church of st. denis, were broken to pieces. pepin, the sire of charlemagne and son of charles martel, was buried there, in . nothing remained of pepin but a handful of dust, which was served in a similar manner. it is stated by lamartine, that the heads of marshal turenne, duguesclin, louis xii., and francis i., were rolled about the pavement; sceptres, crowns, and crosiers were trampled under foot; and the shouts of the operatives were heard, when the blows of the axe broke through some regal coffin, and the royal bones were thrown out, to be treated with senseless insult. hugh capet, philip the bold, and philip, the handsome, were buried beneath the choir. the ruthless hands of these modern vandals tore from the corpses those garments of the grave, in which they had reposed for centuries, and threw the relics upon beds of quicklime. henry iv. fell by the hands of ravaillac, the assassin, may , . his body, was carefully embalmed, by italians. when taken from the coffin, the lineaments of the face fully corresponded with the numerous representations, transmitted by the hands of painters and statuaries. that cherished and perfumed beard expanded, as if it had just then received the last manipulation of the friseur. the marks were perfectly visible, upon the breast, indicating the first and second thrust of ravaillac's stilletto. the popularity of this monarch protected his remains, though for a brief space. he was frank, brave, and humane. for two days, all that remained of this idol of the people--was exhibited to public view. the exhumed king was placed at the foot of the altar, and a countless multitude passed, in mute procession, around these favored relics. this gave umbrage to javogues, a member of the convention. he denounced this partiality, and railed against the memory of henri le grand. the multitude, impressible by the slightest impulse, hurled the dead monarch into the common fosse of quicklime and corruption; execrating, under the influence of a few feverish words, from the lips of a republican savage, the memory and the remains of one, cherished by their predecessors, for nearly three hundred years. a similar fate awaited his son and grandson, louis xiii. and xiv. the vault of the bourbons was thoroughly ransacked, in the same spirit of desolation. queens, dauphinesses, and princesses, says the historian of the girondists, were carried away, in armsful, by the laborers, to be cast into the trench, and consumed by quicklime. in the vault of charles v., surnamed the wise, besides the corpse were found, a hand of justice and a golden crown. in the coffin of his wife, jeanne of bourbon, were her spindles and marriage rings. these relics were thrown into the ditch--the corpses--not the articles of gold, however debased by their juxtaposition. of the french gentlemen it may be affirmed, as of madame gilpin-- "though on pleasure she was bent, she had a frugal mind." an economy, perfectly grotesque, mingled with an unmanly desecration. even the lead was scraped together from these coffins, and converted into balls. in the vault of the valois no bodies were discovered. the people were very desirous of showing some tokens of their wrath, upon the poor carcass of louis xi., but it could not be found. abbés, heroes, ministers of state were indiscriminately cast into the fosse. upon the exhumation of dagobert i., and his queen, matilde, who had been buried twelve hundred years, her skeleton was found without a head. such is said to have been the case with several other skeletons of the queens of france. in one of the upper lofts of the cabinet of natural history of the jardin des plantes, among stuffed beasts and birds, surrounded by mixed and manifold rubbish, and covered with dust, there lay a case or package, unexamined and unnoticed, for nine long years. this envelope contained the mortal remains of a marechal of france, the hero of an hundred battles,--of no other than henry de la tour, viscount de turenne. he was killed by a cannon ball, july , , at the age of . all france lamented the death of this great man. the admiration of all europe followed him to the grave. courage, modesty, generosity, science have embalmed his memory. the king, louis le grand, ordered a solemn service to be performed, for the marechal de turenne, in the cathedral church at paris, as for the first prince of the blood, and that his remains should be interred in the abbey of st. denis, the burial-place of the royal personages of france, where the cardinal, his nephew, raised a splendid mausoleum to his memory. so much for glory--and what then? in , the remains of this great man were upon the point of being cast into the common fosse, by the agents of the convention, when some, less rabid than the rest, smuggled them away; and, for security, conveyed them to the lumber room of the cabinet of natural history of the jardin des plantes. having reposed, nine years in state, peradventure between a dilapidated kangaroo and a cast-off opossum--these remains of the great turenne were, at length, committed, in a quiet way, to the military tomb of the invalids. no. xxiv. burning dead saints, is a more pardonable matter, than burning living martyrs--the combustion of st. genevieve's dry bones, than the fiery trial of latimer and ridley--the fantastical decree of the french convention, than the cruel discipline of bloody mary. dark days were they, and full of evil, those years of bitterness and blood, from to nov. , , when, by a strange coincidence, this hybrid queen, whose sire was a british tyrant, and whose dam a spanish bigot, expired on the same day with the cardinal, reginald pole. from the remarkable proximity of the events arose a suspicion of poison, of which the public mind has long since been disabused. in this age of greater intelligence and religious freedom, the outrages, perpetrated, in the very city of london, within five brief years, are credible, only on the strength of well authenticated history. according to bishop burnet, two hundred and eighty-four persons were burnt at the stake, during four years of this merciless and miserable reign. lord burleigh makes the number of those, who died, in that reign, by imprisonment, torments, famine, and fire, to be near four hundred. weever, in his funeral monuments, page , quotes the historian speed, as saying, "in the heat of those flames, were burnt to ashes five bishops, one-and-twenty divines, eight gentlemen, eighty-four artificers, an hundred husbandmen, servants, and laborers, twenty-six wives, twenty widows, nine virgins, two boys, and two infants; one of them whipped to death by bonner, and the other, springing out of the mother's womb from the stake, as she burned, thrown again into the fire." here, in passing, suffer me to express my deep reverence for john weever. i know of no book, so interesting to the craft, as his funeral monuments, a work of infinite labor and research. weever died in , and lies in st. james, clerkenwell. his epitaph may be found in strype's survey: lancashire gave me birth, and cambridge education; middlesex gave me death, and this church my humation; and christ to me hath given a place with him in heaven. the structure of these lines will remind the classical reader of virgil's epitaph: mantua me genuit: calabri rapuere; tenet nunc parthenope; cecini pascua, rura, duces. the short and sharp reign of mary tudor was remarkable for burning protestant christians and wax candles. that fountain of fun, pure and undefiled, that prince of wags, theodore hook, was offered, very young, for admission at the university; and, when the chancellor opened the book, and gravely inquired if he was ready to sign the thirty-nine articles, "yes, sir," replied the young puppy, "forty, if you please." now, in contemplation of the enormous consumption of wax, especially upon the occasion of funeral obsequies, during mary's reign, it would seem that a belief, in its vital importance, might have formed an additional article, in the romish creed. i have never thought well of grafting religion upon the selfishness of man's nature. nominal converts, it is true, are readily made, in that way. in catholic countries, wax chandlers are romanists, to a man. i always considered the attempt, a few years since, to convert the inhabitants of nantucket to puseyism, by a practical appeal to their self interest, however ingeniously contrived, a very wicked thing. and i greatly lauded the good old bishop of this diocese, for rebuking those very silly priests, who promoted a senseless and extravagant consumption of one of the great staples of that island, by burning candles in the day time. he made good use of his mitre as an extinguisher. on a somewhat similar principle, i have always objected to every attempt to augment the revenues of a state by taxing corpses--not upon the acknowledged principle, that taxation without representation is inadmissible--but because the whole system is a most miserable mingling of _sacra profanis_. i may not be understood by all, in this remark: i refer to those acts of parliament, which, for the purposes of levying a tax, or promoting some particular branch of industry, have attempted to regulate a man's apparel, and the fitting up of his narrow house, after he is dead. the compulsory employment of flannel, by british statute, is an example of this legislative interference. nothing is more common, in strype's ecclesiastical memorials, than entries, such as these: " , may . the lord shandois was buried with heralds, an herse of wax, four banners of images, and other appendages of funeral honor." "on the th, the lady chamberlain was buried with a fair herse of wax." "may , in the forenoon, was buried mrs. gates, widow, late wife, as it seems, to sir john gates, executed the first year of this queen's reign. she gave seventeen fine black gowns, and fourteen of broad russet for poor men. there were carried two white branches, ten staff torches, and four great tapers." "july th the lady tresham was buried at peterborough, with four banners, and an herse of wax, and torches." " , september th, was buried sir andrew judd, skinner, merchant of muscovy, and late mayor of london, with ten dozen of escutcheons, garnished with angels, and an herse of wax." what is an herse of wax? this will be quite unintelligible to those, who have supposed that word to import nothing else than the vehicle, in which the dead are carried to the grave. herse also signifies a temporary monument, erected upon, or near, the place of sepulture, and on which the corpse was laid, for a time, in state; and a herse of wax was a structure of this kind, surrounded with wax tapers. this will be made manifest, by some additional extracts from the same author: " . the th day of july, died the lady anne, of cleves, at chelsey, sometime wife and queen unto king henry viii., but never crowned. her corpse was cered the night following." "on the th began the herse at westminster, for the lady anne of cleves, consisting of carpenters' work of seven principals, being as goodly an herse as had been seen." "on the d of august the body of the lady anne of cleves was brought from chelsey, where her house was, unto westminster, to be buried--men bore her, under a canopy of black velvet, with four black staves, and so brought her into the herse, and there tarried _dirge_, remaining there all night, with lights burning." "on the th day of august the herse of the king of denmark was begun to be set up, in a four-square house. august , was the king of denmark's herse in st. paul's finished with wax, the like to which was never seen in england, in regard to the fashion of square tapers." and on the d, also was the king of denmark's herse, at st. paul's, "taken down by the wax chandlers and carpenters, to whom this work pertained, by order of mr. garter, and certain of the lord treasurer's servants." these herses were, doubtless, very attractive in their way. "aug. , . the young dutchess of norfolk being lately deceased, her herse began to be set up on the th, in st. clements, without temple bar, and was this day finished with banners, pensils, wax, and escutcheons." the office of an undertaker, in those days, was no sinecure. he was an _arbiter elegantiarum_. a funeral was a festival then. eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow you die, was the common phylactery. "the funeral baked meats did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables." baked meats shall be the subject of my next. no. xxv. pliny, xviii. , refers to a practice among the romans, very similar to that, in use among certain unenlightened nations, of depositing articles of diet upon tombs and graves, such as beans, lettuces, eggs, bread, and the like, for the use of ghosts. the stomachs of roman ghosts were not supposed to be strong enough for flesh meat. hence the lines of juvenal, v. : sed tibi dimidio constrictus cammarus ovo ponitur, exigua feralis cæna patella. the _silicernium_ or _cæna funebris_ was a very different, and more solid affair. at first blush--to use a common and sensible expression--there seems no respectable keeping, between the art of burying the dead, and that of feasting the living. depositing those, whom we love, in their graves, is certainly the very last relish for an appetite. something of this was undoubtedly done, of old, under the promptings of epicurean philosophy--upon the _dum vivimus vivamus_ principle--and, in that spirit which teaches the soldier, when he turns from the grave, to change the mournful, for the merry strain. the desire of equalling or excelling others, in the magnificence of funereal parade, has ever been a powerful motive. the eyes of others destroy us, said franklin, and not our own. grief for the departed, and sympathy with the bereaved, were not deemed sufficient, to insure an imposing parade. games and festivals were therefore provided, for the people. among other attractions, masses of uncooked meat were bestowed upon all comers. this was the _visceratio_ of the romans. this word seems to have a different import; _viscera_, however, signifies all beneath the skin, as may be seen by consulting serv. in virg., Ã�n. i., . suetonius cæs. , and cicero de officiis ii. , refer to this practice. it was by no means very common, but frequently adopted by those, who could afford the expense, and were desirous of the display. marcus flavius had committed an infamous crime. he was popular, and the ædiles of the people had fixed a day for his absolution. under pretence of celebrating his mother's funeral, he gave a _visceratio_ to the people: populo visceratio data, a m. flavio, in funere matris. erant, qui, per speciem honorandæ parentis, meritam mercedem populo solutam interpretarentur; quod eum, die dicta ab ædilibus, crimine stupratæ matris familæ absolvisset. liv. viii. . a note upon this passage, in lemaire's edition, fully explains the nature of this practice. this was a very different affair from the _silicernium_, or feast for the friends, after the funeral. upon such occasions, the falernian flowed, and boars were roasted whole. the reader, by opening his livy, xxxix. , will find an account of the funeral of p. licinius: a _visceratio_ was given to the people; one hundred and twenty gladiators fought in the arena; the funeral games lasted three days; and then followed a splendid entertainment. on that occasion, a tempest drove the company into the forum; this occurred, in the year u. c. . through all time, the practice has prevailed, more or less, of providing entertainments, for those, who gather on such occasions. in villages, especially, and within my own recollection, the funeral has been delayed, to enable distant friends to arrive in season; and the interval has been employed, in the preparation of creature comforts, not only for such as attended, and observed the ceremonial of an hour, but for such, as came to the bereaved, like the comforters of the man of uz, "every one from his place, and sat down with him, seven days and seven nights." animal provision must surely be required, to sustain such protracted lamentation. in the age, when shakspeare wrote, and for several ages before and after, "baked meats," at funerals, were very common. so far, from contenting themselves with the preparation of some simple aliment, for such as were an hungered, the appetites of all were solicited, by a parade of the rarest liquors and the choicest viands. tables were spread, in the most ample manner, and the transition was immediate from the tomb to the festal board. the _requiescat in pace_ was scarcely uttered, before the blessing was craved, on the baked meats. it matters little, from what period of history we select our illustrations of this truth. suppose we take our examples from the reign, preceding that, in which shakspeare was born; comprehend some other incidents in our collection; and rely, for our authority, on good old john strype, who was himself born in . there is no higher authority. i will present a few specimens from his ecclesiastical memorials: " , may . was the lady chamberlain buried. at the mass preached dr. chadsey. a great dole of money given at the church, and after, a great dinner. may , was buried mrs. gates; after mass a great dinner. june , began a stage play at the grey friars of the passion of christ. june .--this day sir john, a chantry priest, hung himself with his own girdle. the same day was the storehouse in portsmouth burnt, much beer and victual destroyed. a judgment, perhaps, for burning so many innocent persons. june .--this same day was the second year's mind (i. e. yearly _obit_) of good master lewyn, ironmonger; at his dirge were all the livery. after, they retired to the widow's place, where they had a cake and wine; and besides the parish, all comers treated." aug. .--after giving a long account of the funeral of ann of cleves, strype adds, "and so they went in order to dinner." after reciting the particulars of the king of denmark's funeral, in london, aug. , , he adds: "after the dirge, all the heralds and all the lords went into the bishop of london's place, and drank. the next day was the morrow-mass, and a goodly sermon preached, and after, to my lord of london's to dinner." the account of the funeral of thomas halley is entitled to be presented entire: "on the th of this month, august, mr. thomas halley, clarentieux, king-at-arms, was buried, in st. giles's parish, without cripplegate, with coat, armor, and pennon of arms, and scutcheons of his arms, and two white branches, twelve staff torches, and four great tapers, and a crown. and, after dirge, the heralds repaired unto greenhill, the waxchandler, a man of note (being waxchandler to cardinal pole) living hard by; where they had spice-bread and cheese, and wine, great plenty. the morrow-mass was also celebrated, and sermon preached; and after followed a great dinner, whereat were all the heralds, together with the parishioners. there was a supper also, as well as a dinner." after a long account of the funeral of the countess of arundel, oct. , , follow the customary words--"and, after, all departed to my lord's place to dinner." "nov. , mr. maynard, merchant, was buried; and after, the company departed to his house, at poplar, to a great dinner." "oct. , died the lord bray; and so he went by water to chelsea to be buried, &c. &c. many priests and clerks attended. they all came back to this lord's place, at blackfriars, to dinner." at the funeral of richard capet, feb. , "all return to dinner." "on the th, mr. pynohe, fishmonger, and a brother of jesus, was buried. all being performed at the church, the company retired to his house to drink." on the th, "a great dinner," after the funeral of sir george bowers. this testimony is inexhaustible. after the funeral of lady white, march , strype says "there was as great a dinner as had been seen." i will close with two examples. "aug. , . the lady rowlet was buried; and after mass, the company retreated to the place to dinner, which was plentifully furnished with venison, fresh salmon, fresh sturgeon, and many other fine dishes. on the th, died mr. machyl, alderman and clothesworker." after a sermon by a grey friar, "the lord mayor and aldermen, and all the mourners and ladies went to dinner, which was very splendid, lacking no good meat, both flesh and fish, and an hundred marchpanes." it is certain, that all this appears to us now to have been in very bad taste; and it is not easy to comprehend the principle, which conducted to the perpetration of such sensual absurdities; unless we suppose it to have been the design of all concerned, to felicitate the heir, upon his coming to possession; the widow, upon the fruition of an ample dower and abundant leisure; or the widower, upon the recovery of his liberty. this is not the only occasion, upon which man's features are required, from the extreme suddenness of the change, to undergo a process of moral distortion, amounting to grimace. thus, grief, for the death of one monarch, is rudely expressed, by turbulent joy at the succession of another. suffer me to conclude, in the words of father strype--"the same day queen mary deceased, in the morning between and , the lady elizabeth was proclaimed queen: in the afternoon all the churches in london rang their bells; and at night were bonfires made, and tables set in the streets, and the people did eat, and drink, and make merry." no. xxvi. among the dead--the mighty dead--there is one, in regard to whom, our national dealings may be fairly set forth, in the words of desdemona-- in faith, 'twas strange, 'twas passing strange; 'twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful: she wish'd she had not heard it. forty-nine years have passed, since the interment of george washington. forty-nine years ago, "the joint committee," says chief justice marshall, "which had been appointed to devise the mode, by which the nation should express its feelings, on this melancholy occasion, reported" a series of resolutions, among which was the following: "that a marble monument be erected, by the united states, at the city of washington, and that the family of general washington be requested to permit his body to be deposited under it; and that the monument be so designed, as to commemorate the great events of his military and political life." to the letter, transmitting the resolutions to mrs. washington, she replied, as follows: "taught by the great example, which i have so long had before me, never to oppose my private wishes to the public will, i must consent to the request made by congress, which you have had the goodness to transmit to me; and, in doing this, i need not, i cannot, say what a sacrifice of individual feeling i make, to a sense of public duty." all this is very fine. the nation requested permission to remove the remains--mrs. washington consented--but that monument! the remains have slumbered quietly, where they first were interred, for nine and forty years--and the monument is like rachel's first born--it is not! there is something better in prospect. such, however, is the record thus far. it is very true he needs no monument. no immortal can say more justly, from his elevated sphere, to every inhabitant of this vast empire, _si monumentum quæris, circumspice_! this fact, however, so far from taking the tithe of a hair from the balance of this account, illustrates the national delinquency. it may be matter of amusing speculation, to contrast the zeal, which prevails, especially in england, in relation to the most trifling memorials of shakspeare, and the popular indifference, in regard to certain relics, known to have been the property of washington, and to have been personally used by him. all are familiar with the recent excitement, on the subject of shakspeare's house--that mulberry tree--a hair of him, for memory. washington's library has lately been sold, for just about the price of four shares in one of the cotton mills at lowell. a few years since, the cabinet of medals, struck at different times, in honor of the father of his country, and which had become the property of one of his representatives, was sold by him, for five hundred dollars, and purchased by an individual citizen of massachusetts. there are some things, seemingly so vast--so very--very national--that one can scarcely believe it possible for any private cabinet to contain them gracefully. soon after the destruction of the bastile, july , , la fayette sent its massive key to washington--his political father--as the first fruits of those principles of liberty, which were then supposed to be bourgeoning forth, in a _free_ french soil. this colossal key was suspended, in the front entry, at mount vernon. a short time ago, an aged friend, residing in a neighboring town, and once intimate in the family of washington, told me he had often seen that famous key, in its well known position. this also became the property of washington's representatives. a few years since, i saw it stated, in the public journals, that, among other effects, this key of the bastile was sold at auction, and purchased for seventy-five cents, by a gentleman, who had the good taste to return it to some member of the family. eminent men, as they arise, are occasionally compared to washington. points of resemblance, now and then, may assuredly be found; but there never breathed a man, whose mental and moral properties combined, could endure a rigid comparison with his. whoever attempts to run this parallel, between him and any other, will readily acknowledge the truth of the proverb, _nullum simile quatuor pedibus currit_. select the example from the present, or the past, from our own or from other lands, and inquire, to which of them all would erskine, so chary of his praise, so slow of faith in his fellow, have applied those memorable words, inscribed, in the presentation copy of his work, transmitted to washington--_you, sir, are the only individual, for whom i ever felt an awful reverence_. of whom else would lord brougham have pronounced this remarkable passage--"it will be the duty of the historian and the sage, in all ages, to omit no occasion of commemorating this illustrious man; and, until time shall be no more, will a test of the progress, which our race has made in wisdom and virtue, be derived, from the veneration paid to the immortal name of washington." i have not yet met with any gentleman of our calling, who is not decidedly in favor of the election of general taylor, or who would not gratuitously attend, in a professional way, upon messieurs cass and van buren. we perceive a resemblance between the first president and the present candidate, in their willingness to draw long bills on posterity for fame, in preference to numerous drafts, at sight, without grace, for daily applause. but we behold, in washington, the image and superscription, not of cæsar, but of a peerless mortal--of one, created, verily, a little lower than the angels-- "a combination, and a form, indeed, where every god did seem to set his seal, to give the world assurance of a man." no men have done more to bedim the reputation of washington, than jefferson and randolph. verily they have their reward. in no portion of our country has the memory of that great man been more universally cherished and beloved, than in new england. a sentiment, not only of reverence for his character, but of affection for his person, was very general, in this quarter; and manifested itself, in a remarkable manner, upon the occasion of his death. nothing could have been more unexpected, than the announcement of that event, in boston. i will close this article, with a simple illustration of the popular feeling, when the sad tidings arrived. at the close of that year, --i was a small boy then--i was returning from a ride on horseback, to dorchester point--there was no bridge, and it was quite a journey. as i approached the town, i was very much surprised, at the tolling of the bells. upon reaching home, i saw my old father, at an unusual hour for him, the busiest man alive, to be at home, sitting alone in our parlor, with his bandanna before his eyes. i ran towards him, with the thoughtless gayety of youth, and asked what the bells were tolling for. he withdrew the handkerchief from his face--the tears were rolling down his fine old features--"go away child," said he, "don't disturb me; do you not know, that washington is dead?" the reader has surmised, that the worthy old man had sipped at the fountain of executive patronage. not at all. he had never seen washington, and never held an office civil or military, saving under hancock's commission, as justice of the peace, which was accounted a very pretty compliment, in those days. no. he was nothing but an american, and he shed those american tears, upon the death of one, whose character and conduct had filled his heart with sentiments of pride, and love, and "awful reverence." no. xxvii. i am rather inclined to suspect, that man is a selfish animal. a few days ago, i administered a merited rebuke to a group of young sextons, who had gathered together, after a funeral, and were seated upon a barrow bier, before an unclosed tomb. they had been discussing the subject of capital punishment, and were opposed to it unanimously. they frankly admitted, that they were not influenced, by any consideration of humanity, but looked simply to the fact, that, as the bodies of executed criminals went, commonly, to the surgeons, every execution deprived us of a job. one observed, that boston was dreadfully healthy--another remarked, that homoeopathy had proved a considerable help to us. several compliments were paid to thompson, brandreth, and mrs. kidder. but they appeared to anticipate emolument from no source, so certainly, as from the approaching cholera. i was greatly shocked, and expressed my opinion very freely. i reminded them of the primitive dignity of the sacristan's office. i should deeply regret, to see our calling reduced to the level of a mere trade, with its tariff--shrouds all rising--coffins looking up! we have a fair share of funerals, and the members of our profession have no just cause for complaint. steam has helped us prodigiously. it has been said, that, comparing the amount of steam travel with the amount of ante-steam travel, i. e., the present with the past, the relative amount of deaths, from accident, is about the same. suppose it to be so; the cheapness and facility of locomotion, at present, stimulate a much larger number to move--there is a vast increase of frivolous and pleasure travel--cars are filled with women, crates with bandboxes, and death is to be averaged over the integer--i therefore repeat, that steam has helped our profession. if steam had been known, in ancient rome, it would have been reckoned a deity, whose diet, like the sacrifice of juggernaut, would have been flesh and blood. there is a very natural sensibility, on the part of steamboat and railroad proprietors, to the announcement of disasters, by steam. there is a wonderful eagerness to persuade the public to contemplate these catastrophes, with the larger end of the telescope toward the eye. this also is a great help to our profession. there is really no lack of business, and it is quite abominable, for thoughtless young sextons to pray for the advent of the cholera. we dwell in a region of the earth, seldom touched by this besom of destruction. pestilence and famine have rarely come nigh unto us. it would be impious to envy the denizens of milder climes. "with gold and gems if chilian mountains glow, if bleak and barren scotia's hills arise; there plague and poison, lust and rapine grow, here peaceful are the vales and pure the skies." i thank heaven, i was not an undertaker, in london, in , when there were scarcely enough of the living to bury the dead. when i used to wrap myself up, in the pages of robinson crusoe, how little i suspected, that daniel defoe was the writer of some twenty volumes beside. his inimitable history of the plague, of , is admirable reading, for the members of our craft. at irregular periods, plague, yellow fever, sweating sickness, and cholera have visited the earth, with terrible effect. let us take a cursory view of these awful visitations. a. d. , , perished daily at rome. the plague returned there a. d. . terrible plague in britain a. d. . a dreadful plague spread over europe, asia and africa, a. d. , and continued, for several years. , died of the plague in constantinople, a. d. . this plague raged for three years, and extended to calabria, sicily and greece. william of malmsbury states, that a. d. , an epidemic disease carried off , in chichester, england. , died of pestilence in scotland, a. d. . hollingshed gives an account of a terrible plague among cattle, a. d. , and in ireland a. d. . in this year a general plague raged in europe. in london persons were buried daily, in the charterhouse yard. a dreadful mortality prevailed in london and paris, a. d. and ' . great pestilence in ireland a. d. . endemic destroyed , in london a. d. . great numbers died of plague in ireland, following famine, a. d. . dublin was severely visited with plague a. d. . rapin and salmon give an account of the plague at oxford, a. d. , and throughout england a. d. . the sweating sickness, _sudor anglicus_, first appeared, in england, in , in the army of henry vii., on his landing at milfordhaven. a year or two after, it travelled to london, and remained there, with intermissions, for forty years. it then passed over to the continent, and overran holland, germany, flanders, france, denmark, and norway. it continued in those countries, from to ; it then returned to england; and was last known there, in . it was a malignant fever, accompanied with very great thirst, delirium, and excessive sweat. dr. caius called it "a contagious, pestilential fever of one day, prevailing with a mighty slaughter, as tremendous as the plague of athens." dr. willis says, "its malignity was so extreme, that as soon as it entered a city, it made a daily attack, on five or six hundred persons, of whom scarcely one in a hundred recovered." strype says, "the plague of sweat this summer, , was very severe, and carried away multitudes of people, rich and poor, especially in london, where, in one day, july th, died an hundred people, and the next, one hundred and twenty. from the th of this month to the th, there died in london, of this sweat, ." stowe says that, in the th year of henry vii., , half the population, in the capital towns of england, died of the sweating sickness: and that it proved fatal, in three hours. in the year , stowe also says, that the plague was so terrible in london, that henry vii. and his court went over to calais. the plague prevailed in england and ireland, in , and in london , persons died. in , , died of pestilence, in constantinople; , persons died of an epidemic in london, in . in a general mortality prevailed in france; , died in lyons. the plague was brought from sardinia to naples, in , and , of the neapolitans died, in six months. in the great plague of london, of , described by de foe, , persons died. in , , perished of the plague at marseilles. an account is given, by the abbe mariti, of one of the most awful plagues ever known, which prevailed in syria, in . in persia, , inhabitants of bassorah, died of the plague, in . in , the plague destroyed , persons in egypt. in , , died of the plague at fez; and in barbary, daily, for several days. in and ' , an immense number were destroyed, by the plague, in gibraltar. at the same place, in , many were swept away, by an epidemic fever, scarce distinguishable from the plague. verily the vocation of an undertaker is anything but a sinecure! but, in such terrible emergencies, as were hourly occurring, during the prevalence of the great plague of london, such an operator as pontraci would have cast aside all thoughts of shrouds and coffins. in one single night died. the hearses were common dead carts; and the continued cry, _bring out your dead_, rang through every heart. defoe rates the victims of the plague of , at , . at present, we have a deeper interest in the pestilence of modern times, though by some accounted of great antiquity. the indian or asiatic cholera traversed the north, east and south of europe, and the countries of asia, and, in two years, prostrated , victims. it subsequently appeared in england, at sunderland, oct. , ; in scotland, at edinburgh, feb. , ; in ireland, at dublin, march , . the mortality was great, but much less than upon the continent. between march and august, , , died of cholera, in paris. in july and august, , it reappeared in rome, the two sicilies, genoa, berlin, and some other cities. its ravages, in this country, were far less notable, than in many others. it is very wise to cast about us, and determine what we will do, if it should come again, and it is very likely to take us in its progress. but let us not forget, that it will most easily approach us, through our fears; and probably, in no disease, are fear and grief more fatal _avant couriers_, than in affections of the abdominal viscera. i am half inclined to the opinion of a charming old lady of my acquaintance, who, after listening to a learned discussion, as to the seat of the soul--the fountain of sensibility,--and whether or not it was seated in the conarion--the pineal gland--gave her decided opinion, that it was seated in the bowels. no. xxviii. the dead speak from their coffins--from their very graves--and verily the heart of the true mourner hath ears to hear. gloves and rings are the valedictories of the dead--their _vales_, or parting tokens, received by the mourners, at the hand of some surviving friend. this appropriated word, _vale_, as almost every one knows, is the leave-taking expression of the mourners; and, when anglicised, and used in the plural number, as one syllable, signifies those _vales_ or vails, tokens, in various forms, from shillings to crown pieces, bestowed by parting visitors, on domestics, from the head waiter to the scullion. they are intended as leave tokens. every servant, in the families of the nobility, from the highest to the lowest, expects a _vale_, not in the classical sense of menalcas--_longum, formose, vale, vale_, but in lawful money, intelligible coin. this practice had become so oppressive to visitors, in the early part of the reign of george iii., that sir jonas hanway, remarkable, among other things, for his controversy with dr. johnson, on the subject of tea drinking, wrote and published eight letters to the duke of newcastle, against the custom of giving vails, in which he relates some very amusing anecdotes. mr. hanway, being quietly reproached, by a friend, in high station, for not accepting his invitations to dinner, more frequently, frankly replied, "indeed, my lord, i cannot afford it." he recites the manner of leaving a gentleman's house, where he had dined; the servants, as usual, flocked around him--"your great coat, sir jonas"--a shilling--"your hat, sir:" a shilling--"stick, sir:" a shilling--"umbrella, sir:" a shilling--"sir, your gloves"--"well, keep the gloves, they are not worth the shilling." a remarkable example of the insolence of a pampered menial was related to mr. hanway, by sir timothy waldo. he had dined with the duke of newcastle: as he was departing, and handing over his coin to the train of servants, that lined the hall, he put a crown into the hand of the chief cook, who returned it, saying, "i never take silver, sir." "indeed"--sir timothy replied, returning the piece to his pocket, "i never give gold." sir jonas was an excellent man; and, whatever objections he may have had to the practice of giving extravagant vails to servants, i think he would have little or nothing to say, against the practice of giving such vails, as the dead may be supposed, vicariously, to bestow upon the living, in the form of rings and gloves. the dead, it must be conceded, seem not so much disposed to give vails, at present, as they were, one hundred years ago. in such dispensations, in the olden time, the good man, the clergyman, was seldom forgotten. gloves and rings were showered down, upon the lord's anointed, at weddings, christenings, and funerals. when a child, i was very much puzzled, upon two points; first, what became of all the old moons, and, secondly, what the minister did with his gloves and rings. if he had had the hands of briareus, he could not have worn them all. an interesting little volume is now lying upon my table, which explains the mystery, not at all, in relation to the moons, but most happily, in respect to rings and gloves. it is the astronomical diary or almanac of nathaniel ames, boston, new england, printed by j. draper, for the booksellers, . this little book is interleaved; and the blank leaves are written over, in the hand-writing of good old andrew eliot, who, april , , was ordained pastor of the new north church, in boston, as colleague with mr. webb, where, possessing very little of the locomotive or migratory spirit of the moderns, this excellent man remained, till his death, sept. , . if gall and wormwood are essential to the perfection of christian theology, dr. eliot was singularly deficient, as a teacher of religion. his sermons were very full of practical godliness, and singularly free from brimstone and fire. he was elected president of harvard university, but his attachment to his people caused him to decline the appointment. after this passing tribute, let us return to the little almanac of . on the inside of the marble cover the first entry commences thus: "gloves, , january." the gloves, received by dr. eliot, are set against particular names, and under every month, in the year. certain names are marked with asterisks, doubtless denoting, that the parties were dead, or _stelligeri_, after the fashion of the college catalogue; and thus the good doctor discriminated, between funerals, and weddings and christenings. although a goodly number of rings are enrolled, together with the gloves, yet a page is devoted to rings, exclusively, in the middle of the book. this is not arranged, under months, but years; and commences, in , the year before he was ordained, as colleague with mr. webb. at the bottom of the record, the good man states how many pairs were kid; how many were lambswool; and how many were long or women's gloves, intended, of course, for the parson's lady. these rings and gloves were sold, by the worthy doctor, with the exception of such, as were distributed, in his own household, not a small one, for he left eleven children. a prejudice might have prevailed, an hundred years ago, against dead men's gloves, similar to that, recorded in the proverb, against dead men's shoes; certain it is, these gloves did not meet with a very ready market. it appears by the record, in the doctor's own hand, that mrs. avis was entrusted with fifteen pairs of women's and three dozen of men's; and returned, unsold, eight pairs of women's, and one dozen and ten pairs of men's. a dozen pairs of men's were committed to mrs. langstaff; half a dozen women's to mr. langdon, and seventeen pairs to captain millens. what a glove and ring market the dear doctor's study must have been. in thirty-two years, he appears to have received two thousand nine hundred and forty pairs of gloves, at funerals, weddings, and baptisms. of these he sold to the amount of fourteen hundred and forty one pounds, eighteen shillings, and one penny, old tenor, equal to about six hundred and forty dollars. he also sold a goodly number of his rings. from all this, the conclusion is irresistible, that this truly good man and faithful minister must have been, if i may use the common expression, hand and glove with his parishioners. the little volume before me contains the record of other matters, highly interesting, doubtless, in their day but of precious little moment, at the present hour. of what importance can it be, i beg leave to inquire, for any one to know, on what precise day, one hundred years ago, the worthy pastor borrowed a box of candles of deacon langdon, or a loaf of sugar of his own father, or ten shillings, old tenor, of deacon grant! who, of the present generation, cares, on what day, one hundred years ago, he repaid those three pounds to deacon barrett! of what consequence to any living mortal can it be, that, on the thirteenth day of april, one hundred years ago, betty bouvè came to live at the manse, as a maid! it is past. the last of that box of candles has burnt down into the socket, long ago. that sugar has dissolved, and lost its sweetness. and betty bouvè! the places that knew her know her no more. her sweeping days are over; for time, with its irresistible broom, hath swept her from the face of the earth, and given her the grave for a dustpan. the good old man himself has been called to the account of his stewardship. "it was a pleasant day," saith father gannett, on the fly-leaf of his almanac, "sept. , , when near four hundred couples and thirty-two carriages followed the remains of dr. andrew eliot from his house, before the south side of his meeting-house, into fore street, up cross street, through black horse lane, to corpse hill." i adopt mr. gannett's orthography, though rather less accurate than applicable. no. xxix. the true value of an enlightened conscience may be duly estimated by him, who has enjoyed the luxury of travelling in the dark, with the assistance of a lantern, without a candle. a man, who has a very strong sense of duty, and very little common sense, is apt to be a very troublesome fellow; for he is likely to unite the stupidity of an ass with the obstinacy of a mule. yet such there are; and, however inconvenient, individually, the evil is immeasurably increased, when they become gregarious, and form a party, for any purpose whatever. such conscience parties have existed, in every age and nation. a few individuals, of higher intelligence, dissatisfied with their civil, political, military, religious, or literary importance, and fatally bent upon distinction, are necessary to elevate some enormous green cheese high in the firmament, and persuade their followers, that it is neither more nor less than the moon, at full. herod was the great director of that conscience party, that believed it to be their bounden duty, to murder all the little children in judea, under a certain age. the terrible sacrifice, on st. bartholomew's eve, was conducted by a conscience party. the burnings and starvings, in bloody mary's reign, were planned and executed, by a conscience party. in no country has conscience been so very rampant, as in ireland, from the days of heremon and king olam fodla, to the present hour. almost every reader is aware how conscientiously archbishop sharp was murdered, in presence of his daughter, in scotland. the widows of hindostan, when they attempt to escape from the funeral pile, on which their late husbands are burning, are driven back into the flames, by a conscience party. it is well known, that certain inhabitants of india deposit their aged and decrepit parents, upon the very margin of the river, that the rising waters may bear them away. this is not the act of a few individuals; but the common practice, clearly indicating the existence of a conscience party, who undoubtedly believe they are acting, in a most filial and dutiful manner, and doing the very best thing in the world, for all parties. infanticide is tolerated in china. very little account is made of female babies there. this has been doubted and denied. doubt and denial are of no use. there is a conscience party there, who believe it to be their duty to their male babies, to drown the females, unless they are pretty, and then they have a chance for life, in being sold for concubines. among the numerous and best modern authorities, on this point, is gutzlaff, whose voyages, along the coast of china, were published, in london, . "at the beach of amoy," says he, "we were shocked, at the spectacle of a pretty, new-born babe, which, shortly before, had been killed. we asked some of the bystanders what this meant; they answered with indifference, 'it is only a girl.'" on page , gutzlaff remarks, "it is a general custom among them to drown a large proportion of their new-born female children. this unnatural crime is so common, that it is perpetrated, without any feeling, and even in a laughing mood; and, to ask a man of distinction, whether he has daughters, is a mark of great rudeness." earle, in his narrative of new zealand, london, , states that the practice existed there. the insurrection of shays, in this commonwealth, in , was a matter of conscience, beyond all doubt. he and many of his associates believed themselves a conscience party. after general lincoln had suppressed the rebellion, great lenity was shown to the prisoners--not an individual was executed--and shays, who died in , at the age of , was even pensioned, in his old age, for his prior services in the revolution. the revolt of the pennsylvania line, in , was, i admit, less an affair of the conscience, than of the stomach and bowels; for the poor fellows were nearly starved to death. the insurrection under fries, commonly called the whiskey rebellion, in western pennsylvania, in , was a different affair. a conscience party resolved to drink nothing but untaxed whiskey--they conscientiously believed the flavor to be utterly ruined, by the excise. it is certain, that, when general washington moved against the rebels, there was conscience enough, among them, to make cowards of them all, for they scattered, in all directions. a conscience party existed, in the early settlement of our country, when our pious ancestors, having fled to the howling wilderness, that they might enjoy liberty of thought, on religious subjects, began to hang the poor quakers, for the glory of god. never before had there been such a conscience party in massachusetts, as from to . it was then cotton mather exclaimed from the pulpit, that witchcraft was the "most nefandous high treason against the majesty on high." it was then, that he satisfied himself, by repeated trials, that devils were skilled in latin, greek and hebrew. it was then, that they hanged old women, for riding on broomsticks through the air; a mode of conveyance, which lord mansfield declared, long after, to be perfectly lawful, for all who preferred that mode of equitation. a conscience party has recently appeared, in this country, which it is not easy to describe. every other party seems to have contributed to its formation. it is a sort of political mosaic, made up of tag, rag, and bobtail. some of the prominent members of this party were whigs, but yesterday; and yet they have put forth all their energies, to elect, as president, a man, whom they and all other whigs have hitherto opposed, and denounced, and who, it was manifest, from the beginning, could not possibly be elected. this man has been accounted, by the whigs, a political charlatan; and all that he has done, to obtain the support of this conscience party, such of them at least, as were once whigs, is to avow certain sentiments, on the subject of slavery, the very contrary of those, which he has hitherto maintained, most openly and zealously. no grave and reflecting whig puts any more confidence, in the promises of this political spin-button, than he would put, in the words of nicholas machiavelli. nor could this candidate do more to check the progress of slavery, than every honest whig believes will be done, by the candidate of their party, who certainly resembles washington, in three particulars; he is himself a slaveholder--he is an honest man--and he wears the same political phylactery, "_i will be the president of the people, not of a party_." in consideration of the limit of power, neither of these candidates can do more than the other, for the object in view, if they were equally honest, which nobody dreams of, unless he dreams in sleepy hollow. if there had been an anti-cholera party, van buren might have commanded suffrages, as sensibly, by pledging himself to do all in his power, to prevent its extension. the remaining candidate, it is agreed, would, if elected, have turned the hopes, one and all, of both whig and conscience parties topsy-turvy. his election, it is clear, was made more probable, by every vote, given by a whig to that candidate, whose election was clearly impossible. these irregular whigs, have, therefore, spent their ammunition, as profitably, as the old covenanter spent his, who fired a horse pistol against the walls of sterling castle. such is the conscience party. when i refer to the universal consent of the whigs, during the former canvass for martin van buren, that he was, politically, the very devil incarnate; and, in making a selection of those, who were the loudest, and longest, and the most vehement of his antagonists, find them to be the very leaders of the present movement, in his favor; i am reminded of peter pindar's pleasant story of the chambermaid and the spider; and, not having my copy of peter at hand, i will endeavor to relate the tale in prose, as well as i am able. a chambermaid, in going her rounds, observed an enormous spider, black and bloated, so far from his hole of refuge, that, lifting her broom, she exclaimed, "now, you ugly brute, i have you! you are such a sly, cunning knave, and have such a happy non-committal way with you, that i never have been able to catch you before; for, the moment i raised my broom, you were out of sight, forsooth, and perfectly safe, in that kinderhook of a hole of yours--but, now prepare yourself, for your hour has come." the spider turned every one of his eight eyes down upon the chambermaid, and, extending his two forelegs in a beseeching manner, calmly replied, "strike, peerless maid, but hear me! i have given you infinite trouble, and have been a very bad fellow, i admit. crafty and cruel, i have been an unmitigated oppressor of flies, and all inferior insects. i have sucked their blood, and lived upon their marrow. but now my conscience has awakened, and i am in favor of letting flies go free. it is not in quest of flies, that i am here, sweet maid; (and then he seemed perfectly convulsed;) i am changed at heart, and become a new spider. pardon me for speaking the truth; my only object, in being here, is, from this elevated spot, to survey your incomparable charms." the chambermaid lowered her broom; and gently said, as she walked away, "well, a spider is not such a horrid creature, after all." i may be thought, in these remarks, to have offended against the dictum--_ne sutor ultra crepidam_. surely i am not guilty--my dealings are with _the dead_. perhaps i am mistaken. the conscience party may not be dead, but cataleptic--destined to rise again--to fall more feebly than before. no. xxx. funerals, in the earlier days of rome, must have been very showy affairs. they were torch-light processions, by night. you will gather some information, on this subject, by consulting a note of servius, on virg. Ã�n. xi. . cicero, de legibus, ii. , says, that demetrius ordered nocturnal funerals, to check the taste for extravagance, in these matters: "iste igitur sumptum minuit, non solum poena, sed etiam tempore; ante lucem enim jussit efferri." a more ancient law, of similar import, will be found recited, in the oration of demosthenes, against macartatus, viii., , dove's london ed. orat. attici. _funes_ or _funiculi_ were small ropes or cords, covered with wax or tallow; such were the torches, used on such occasions; hence the word _funus_ or funeral. a confirmation of this may be found in the note of servius, Ã�n. i. . in a later age, funerals were celebrated in the forenoon. there were some things done, at ancient funerals, which would be accounted very extraordinary at the present day. what should we say to a stuffed effigy of the defunct, composed entirely of cinnamon, and paraded in the procession! plutarch says; "such was the quantity of spices brought in by the women, at sylla's funeral, that, exclusive of those carried in two hundred and ten great baskets, a figure of sylla at full length, and of a lictor besides, was made entirely of cinnamon, and the choicest frankincense." at the head of roman funerals, came the _tibicines_, pipers, and trumpeters, immediately following the _designator_, or undertaker, and the lictors, dressed in black. next came the "præficæ, quæ dabant cæteris modum plangendi." these were women hired to mourn, and sing the funeral song, who are popularly termed _howlers_. to this practice horace alludes, in his art of poetry: ut, qui conducti plorant in funere, dicunt, et faciunt prope plura dolentibus ex animo-- which francis well translates: as hirelings, paid for the funereal tear, outweep the sorrows of a friend sincere. i once witnessed an exhibition of this kind, in one of the west india islands. a planter's funeral occurred, at christianstadt, the west end of santa cruz. after the corpse had been lowered into the grave, a wild ululation arose, from the mouths of some hundred slaves, who had followed from the plantation--"oh, what good massa he was--good, dear, old massa gone--no poor slave eber hab such kind massa--no more any such good, kind massa come agin." i noticed one hard-favored fellow, who made a terrible noise, and upon whose features, as he turned the whites of his big eyes up toward heaven, there was a sinister, and, now and then, rather a comical expression, and who, when called to assist in filling up, appeared to throw on the earth, as if he did it from the heart. after the work was done, i called him aside. "you have lost an excellent master," said i. the fellow looked warily round, and, perceiving that he was not overheard, replied, in an undertone--"no massa, he bad mule--big old villain--me glad the debble got him." having thus relieved himself of his feelings, he hastened to join the gang, and i soon saw him, as they filed off, on their way back to the plantation, throwing his brawny arms aloft, and joining in the cry--"oh, what kind, good massa he was!" upon inquiry, i learned, that this planter was a very bad mule indeed, a merciless old taskmaster. not more than ten flute players were allowed, at a funeral, by the twelve tables. the flutes and trumpets were large and of lugubrious tones; thus ovid, fast. vi. : cantabat moestis tibia funeribus; and am. ii. : pro longa resonent carmina vestra tuba. nothing appears more incomprehensible, in connection with this subject, than the employment of players and buffoons, by the ancients, at their funerals. this practice is referred to, by suetonius, in his life of tiberius, sec. . we are told by dyonisius, vii. , that these ludii, histriones, and scurræ danced and sang. one of this class of performers was a professed mimic, and was styled _archimimus_. strange as such a proceeding may appear to us, it was his business, to imitate the voice, manner, and gestures of the defunct; he supported the dead man's character, and repeated his words and sayings. in the life of vespasian, sec. , suetonius thus describes the proceeding: in funere, favor, archimimus, personam ejus ferens, imitansque, ut est mos, facta ac dicta vivi, etc. this favor must have been a comical fellow, and is as free with the dead, as killigrew, charles the second's jester, was, with the living; as the reader will perceive, if he will refer to the passage in suetonius: for the fellow openly cracks his jokes, on the absurd expense of the funeral. this, we should suppose, was no subject for joking, if we may believe the statement of pliny, xxxiii. , that one c. cæcillius claudius, a private citizen, left rather more than nine thousand pounds sterling, by his will, for his funeral expenses. after the archimimus, came the freemen of the deceased, _pileati_; that is, wearing their caps of liberty. men, not unfrequently, as a last act, to swell their funeral train, freed their slaves. before the corpse, were carried the images of the defunct and of his ancestors, but not of such, as had been found guilty of any heinous crime. thus tacitus, ii. , relates, that the image of libo was not permitted to accompany the obsequies of any of his posterity. the origin of the common practice of marching at military funerals, with arms reversed, is of high antiquity. thus virgil xi. , at the funeral of pallas--_versis arcades armis_: and upon another occasion, _versi fasces_ occur in tacitus iii. , referring to the lictors. in our cities and large towns, the corpse is commonly borne to the grave, in a hearse, or on the shoulders of paid bearers. originally it was otherwise. the office of supporting the body to the grave was supposed to belong, of right, and duty, to relatives and friends; or, in the case of eminent persons, to public functionaries. thus, in tacitus, iii. , we find the expression, _tribunorum centurionumque humeris cineres portabantur_: and, upon the death of augustus, tac. i. , it was carried by acclamation, as we moderns say, _corpus ad rogum humeris senatorum ferendum_. the conduct of both sexes, at funerals, was, in some respects, rather ridiculous, in those days. virgil says of king latinus, when he lost his wife, --------it, scissa veste, latinus, canitiem immundo perfusam pulvere turpans; which means, in plain english, that the old monarch went about, with his coat torn, defiling his white hair with filthy dust. cicero, in his tusculan questions, iii. , is entirely of this opinion: detestabilia genera lugendi, pædores, muliebres lacerationes genarum, pectoris, feminum, capitis percussiones--detestable kinds of mourning, covering the body with filth, women tearing their cheeks, bosoms, and limbs, and knocking their heads. tibullus, in the concluding lines of his charming elegy to delia, the first of his first book, though he evidently derives much happiness, from the conviction, that she will mourn for him, and weep over his funeral pile, implores her to spare her lovely cheeks and flowing hair. no classical reader will censure me, for transcribing this very fine passage: te spectem, suprema mihi quum venerit hora, te teneam moriens, deficiente manu. flebis et arsuro positum me, delia, lecto. tristibus et lacrymis oscula mixta dabis. flebis; non tua sunt duro præcordia ferro, vincta, nec in tenero stat tibi corde silex. illo non juvenis poterit de funere quisquam lumina, non virgo, sicca referre domum. tu manes ne læde meos: sed parce solutis crinibus, et teneris, delia, parce genis. the _suttee_, or sacrifice of the widows of hindostan, on the funeral pile of their husbands, was not more a matter of course, than the laceration of the hair and cheeks, among roman women. it was undoubtedly accounted disreputable, for a widow to appear in public, after the recent funeral of her husband, with locks unpulled and cheeks unscratched. to such extremity had this absurd practice proceeded, that the fifth law of the tenth of the twelve tables, to which reference has been made, in a former number, was enacted to prevent it--_mulieres genas ne radunto_. no discreet matron perpetrates any such absurdity, in modern times. the hair and cheeks of the departed have, occasionally, given evidence of considerable laceration, from some cause unknown; but neither the law of the tables, nor the pathos of a tibullus is commonly required, to prevent a christian widow, from laying violent hands, upon her cheeks or her hair. no. xxxi. the cholera seems to be forgotten--but without reason--for the yellowest and most malignant of all yellow fevers is down upon us, proving fatal to the peace of many families, and sweeping away our citizens, by hundreds. the distemper appears to have originated in california, and to have been brought hither, in letters from governor mason and others. it is deeply to be deplored, that these letters, which are producing all this mischief, had not been subjected to the process of smoking and sprinkling with vinegar; for the disease is highly contagious. this fever differs entirely from the _febris flava_--the _typhus icteroides_ of _sauvages_. the symptoms are somewhat peculiar. the pulse is quick and fluttering--the head hot--the patient neglects his business, bolts his food, and wanders about--sometimes apparently delirious, and, during the paroxysms, calls furiously for a pickaxe and a tin pan. but the most certain indication, that the disease has entered into the system, is, not that the patient himself becomes yellow, but that everything, upon which he turns his eyes, assumes the yellow appearance of gold. the nature of this distemper will, however, be much better understood, by the presentation of a few cases of actual occurrence. i. jeduthan smink--a carpenter, having a wife and two children, residing at no. loafer's lane. this is a strongly marked case. mr. smink, who is about five and twenty years of age, has always entertained the opinion, that work did him harm, and that drink did him good--labors--the only way in which he will labor--under the delusion, that all is gold that glistens--packed up his warming pan and brass kettle, to send them to the mint. ii. laban larkin, a farmer--caught the fever of a barber, while being shaved--persuaded that the unusual yellowness of his squashes and carrots can only be accounted for, by the presence of gold dust--turned a field of winter rye topsy turvy, in search of it--believes finally, in the sliding qualities of subterraneous treasure--thinks his gold has slipped over into his neighbor's field of winter rye--offers to dig it all up, at the halves--excited and abusive, because his neighbor declines the offer--told him he was a superannuated ass, and behind the times. iii. molly murphy resides, when at home, which is seldom, in shelaly court, near the corner, easily found by any one, who will follow his nose; has a husband and one child, a dutiful boy, who vends matches and penny papers, on week days, and steals, on sundays, for the support of the family. molly can read; has read what gov. mason writes about pigs rooting up gold, by mistake, for groundnuts--her brain much disturbed--has an impression, that gold may be found almost anywhere--with a tin pan, and no other assistance but her son, tooley murphy, she has actually dug over and washed a pile of filth, in front of her dwelling, which the city scavengers have never been able materially to diminish--urges her husband to be "aff wid the family for killyfarny, where the very wheelbarries is made out of goold." dreams of nothing but gold dust, and firmly believes it to be the very dust we shall all return to--while asleep, seized her husband by the ears, and could scarcely be sufficiently awakened, to comprehend that she had not captured the golden calf. let us be grave. i shall not inquire, if bishop archelaus was right in the opinion, that the original golden calf was made, not by the israelites, but by egyptians, who were the companions of their flight; nor if the modern idol be a descendant in the right line. it is somewhat likely, that the golden calf of , will grow up to be a terrible bull, for some of the adventurers. that there is gold in california, no one doubts. governor mason's standard of quantity is rather alarming--there is gold enough, says he, in the country, drained by the sacramento and joaquin rivers, and more than enough, "_to pay the cost of the present war with mexico, a hundred times over_." this is encouraging, and may lead us to look upon the prospect of another, with more complacency; though the whole of this treasure will not buy back a single slaughtered victim--not one husband to the widow--nor one parent to an orphan child--nor one stay and staff, the joy and the pride of her life, to the lone mother. _n'importe_--we have gold and glory! "the people," says mr. mason, "before engaged in cultivating their small patches of ground, and guarding their herds of cattle and horses, have all gone to the mines. laborers of every trade have left their work benches, and tradesmen their shops. sailors desert their ships, as fast as they arrive on the coast." there is a marvellous fascination in all this, no doubt; and as fast and as far as the knowledge radiates, thousands upon thousands will be rushing to the spot. the shilling here, however, which procures a given amount of meat, fire and clothes, is equal to the sum, whatever it may be, which, there procures the same amount and quality. loafers and the lovers of ease and indolence, who are tobacco chewers, to a man, are desirous of flying to this el dorado. let them have a care: an ounce of gold dust, valued at $ there, though worth $ here, is said to have been paid, for a plug of tobacco. a traveller in caffraria, having paid five cowries, (shells, the money of the country) for some article, complained, that forty were demanded, for a like article, in a village, not far off; and inquired if the article was scarce; "no," was the reply, "but cowries are very plenty." our adventurers intend to remain, perhaps, only till they obtain a competency. even that is not the work of a day; and will be longer, or shorter, in the ratio of the consumption of means, for daily support, during the operation. there will, doubtless, be some difference also, as to the meaning of the word competency. an intelligent merchant, of this city, once defined it to mean a little more, in every individual's opinion, than he hath. like the lock of hay, which miss edgeworth says is attached to the extremity of the pole, and which is ever just so far in advance of the hungry horses, in an irish jaunting car, so competency seems to be forever leading us onward, yet is never fairly within our grasp. john graunt, of whom a good account may be found in bayle, says, that, if the art of making gold were known, and put extensively in practice, it would raise the value of silver. of course it would, and of everything else, so far as the quantity of gold, given in exchange for any article, is the representative of value. as gold becomes plenty, it will be employed for other uses, sauce-pans perhaps, as well as for the increase of the circulating medium. the amount of gold, which has passed through the british mint, from the accession of elizabeth, , to , is, according to professor farraday, , , pounds weight troy; and nearly one half of this was coined during the reign of george iii. gold is a good thing, in charitable fingers; but it too frequently constructs for itself a chancel in our hearts. it then becomes the golden calf, and man an idolater. how dearly we get to love the chink and the glitter of our gold! how much like death it does seem, to go off 'change, before the last watch! three score years and ten, devoted to the turning of pennies! how many of us, after we have had our three warnings, still hobble up and down, day after day, infinitely more anxious about pennies, than we were, fifty years ago, about pounds! an angel, the spirit, for example, of michael de montaigne, perched upon the city hall--the eastern end of the ridge pole--must be tempted to laugh heartily. without any angelic pretensions, i have done so myself, when, upon certain emergencies, the kegs, boxes, and bags of gold and silver, hand-carted and hand borne, have gone from bank to bank, backward and forward, often, in a morning, like the slipper, in the _jeu de pantoufle_! what an interest is upon the faces of the crowd, who gaze upon the very kegs and boxes; feasting upon the bald idea--the unprofitable consciousness--that gold and silver are within; and reminding one of old george herbert's lines,-- "wise men with pity do behold fools worship mules, that carry gold." "verily," saith an ancient writer, "traffickers and the getters of gain, upon the mart, are like unto pismires, each struggling to bear off the largest mouthful." i am glad to see that the moderns are collecting the remains of good old george herbert, and giving them an elegant _surtout_. his address to money is a jewel, and none the worse for its antique setting: "money! thou bane of bliss, and source of wo! whence com'st thou, that thou art so fresh and fine? i know thy parentage is base and low; man found thee, poor and dirty, in a mine. "surely thou didst so little contribute to this great kingdom, which thou now hast got, that he was fain, when thou wert destitute, to dig thee out of thy dark cave and grot. "then, forcing thee by fire, he made thee bright; nay, thou hast got the face of man, for we have, with our stamp and seal, transferred our right; thou art the man, and we but dross to thee! "man calleth thee his wealth, who made thee rich, and, while he digs out thee, falls in the ditch." the mere selfish getters of gain, who dispense it not, are, _civiliter et humaniter mortui_--dead as a door nail--dead dogs in the manger! i come not to bury them, at present; but, if possible, to awaken some of them with my penny trumpet; otherwise they may die in good earnest in their sins; their last breath giving evidence of their ruling passion--muttering not the _tête d'armée_ of napoleon, but the last words of that accomplished israelite, who caused his gold to be counted out, before his failing eyes--_per shent_. no. xxxii. _making mourning_, as an abstract phrase, is about as intelligible, as _making fish_. these arbitrary modes of expression have ever been well enough understood, nevertheless, by those employed in the respective operations. _making mourning_, in ancient times, was assigned to that class of hired women, termed _præficæ_, to whom i have had occasion to refer. they are thus described, by stephans--adhiberi solebant funeri, mercede conductæ, ut flerent, et fortia facta laudarent--they were called to funerals, and paid, to shed tears, and relate the famous actions of the defunct. doubtless, by practice, and continual exercise of the will over the lachrymary organs, they acquired the power of forcing mechanical tears. we have a specimen of this power, in the case of miss sophy streatfield, so often referred to, by madame d'arblay, in her account of those happy days at mrs. thrale's. _making mourning_, in modern times, is, with a few touching exceptions, confined to that important class, the dress-makers. the time allowed, for mourning, was determined, by the laws of numa. plutarch informs us, that no mourning was allowed, for a child, that died under three years, and for all others, a month, for every year it had lived, but never to exceed ten, which was the longest term, allowed for any mourning. we often meet with the term, _luctus annus_, the year of mourning; but the year of romulus contained but ten months; and, though numa added two, to the calendar, the term of mourning remained unchanged. the howlers, or wailing women, were employed also in greece, and in judea. thus in jeremiah ix. , _call for the mourning women, &c., and let them make haste and take up a wailing for us, that our eyes may run down with tears, &c._ by the laws of numa, widows were required to mourn ten months or during the year of romulus. thus ovid, fast. i. : per totidem menses a funere conjugis uxor sustinet in vidua tristia signa domo. numa was rather severe upon widows. the _tristia signa_, spoken of by ovid, were sufficiently mournful. according to kirchmaun de fun. iv. , they were not to stir abroad in public--to abstain entirely from all entertainments--to lay aside every kind of ornament--to dress in black--and not even to kindle a fire, in their houses. not content with stinting and freezing these poor, lone creatures, to death, numa forbade them to repeat the matrimonial experiment, for ten months. indeed, it was accounted infamous, for a widow to marry, within that period. as though he were resolved to add insult to injury, he, according to plutarch, permitted those to violate this law, who would make up their minds, to sacrifice a cow with calf. this unnatural sacrifice was intended, by numa, to frighten the widows. doubtless, in many instances, the legislative bugbear was effectual; but it is quite probable there were some courageous women, in those days, as there are, at present, who would have slaughtered a whole drove, rather than yield the tender point. the jews expressed their grief, for the death of their near friends, by weeping, and crying aloud, beating their breasts, rending their clothes, tearing their flesh, pulling their hair, and starving themselves. they neither dressed, nor made their beds, nor washed, nor saw visitors, nor shaved, nor cut their nails, and made their toilets with sackcloth and ashes. the mourning of the jews lasted commonly seven days, and never more than thirty--quite long enough, we should think, for such an exhibition of filth and folly. the greeks also did much of all this--they covered themselves with dust and dirt, and rolled in the mire, and beat their breasts, and tore their faces. the color of the mourning garb, among the romans, was originally black--from the time of domitian, white. at present, the color of the mourning dress, in europe is black--in china white--in turkey blue or violet--in egypt yellow--in ethiopia brown. there have come down to us two admirable letters from seneca, , and , on the subject of lamentation for the dead; the first to lucilius, after the death of his friend, flaccus--the second to lucilius, communicating the letter seneca had written to murullus, on the death of his son. these letters must be read, _cum grano salis_, on account of the stoical philosophy of the writer. he admits the propriety of decent sorrow, but is opposed to violent and unmeasured lamentations--_nec sicci sint occuli, amisso amico, nec fluant_--shed tears, if you have lost your friend, but do not cry your eyes out--_lacrimandum est, non plorandum_--let there be weeping, but not wailing. he cites, for the advantage of lucilius, the counsel of ulysses to achilles, whose grief, for the death of patroclus, had become inordinate, to give one whole day to his sorrow, and have done with it. he considers it not honorable, for men, to exhibit their grief, beyond the term of two or three days. such, upon the authority of tacitus de mor. germ. , was the practice of the ancient germans. funerum nulla ambitio: ... struem rogi nec vestibus, nec odoribus, cumulant: ... lamenta ac lacrimas cito, dolorem et tristitiam tarde, ponunt; feminis lugere honestum est; viris meminisse: there was no pride of funereal parade; they heaped no garments, no odors, upon the pile; they speedily laid aside their tears and laments; not so their grief and sorrow. it was becoming, for _women_ to mourn; for _men_ to cherish in their memories. in his letter to lucilius, seneca enters upon an investigation, as to the real origin of all this apparent sorrow, so freely and generally manifested, for the dead; and his sober conviction breaks forth, in the words--nemo tristis sibi est. o infelicem stultitiam! est aliqua et doloris ambitio! no one mourns for himself alone. oh miserable folly! there is ambition, even in our sorrow! this passage recalls martial's epigram, , de gellia: amissum non flet, quum sola est gellia, patrem; si quis adest, jussæ prosiliunt lacrymæ. non dolet hic, quisquis landari, gellia, quærit; ille dolet vere, qui sine teste dolet. arthur murphy, in his edition of dr. johnson's works, ascribes to that great man the following extraordinary lines: if the man, who turnips cries, cry not, when his father dies, 'tis a proof, that he had rather have a turnip than his father. under the doctor's sanction, for a bagatelle, i may offer a translation of martial's epigram: when no living soul is nigh, gellia's filial grief is dry; call, some morning, and i'll warrant gellia'l shed a perfect torrent. tears unforc'd true sorrow draws: gellia weeps for mere applause. it is our fortune to witness not a little of this, in our line. we are compelled to drop in, at odd, disjointed moments, when the not altogether disagreeable occupations of the survivors contrast, rather oddly, to be sure, with the graver duties to the dead. a rich widow, like dr. johnson's _protègè_, in his letter to chesterfield, is commonly overburdened with help. it is quite surprising, to observe the solicitude about her health, and how very fervent the hope of her neighbors becomes, that she may not have taken cold. the most prominent personages, after the widow and the next of kin, are the coffin-maker and the dress-maker--both are solicitous of making an excellent fit. those, who, like myself, have had long practice in families, are often admitted to familiar interviews with the chief mourners, which are likely to take place, in the midst of dress-makers and artists of all sorts. how many acres of black crape i have witnessed, in half a century! "mr. abner--good mr. abner," said mrs. ----, "dear mr. abner," said she, "i shall not forget your kindness--how pleasant it is, on these occasions, to see a face one knows. you buried my first husband--i thought there was nothing like that: and you buried my second husband--and, oh dear me, i thought there was nothing like that--and now, oh dear, dear me, you are going to bury my third! how i am supported, it is hard to tell--but the widow's god will carry me through this, and other trials, for aught i know--miss buddikin, don't you think that dress should be fuller behind?" "oh dear ma'am, your fine shape, you know," said miss buddikin. "there now, miss buddikin, at any other time i dare say i should be pleased with your flattery, but grief has brought down my flesh and spirits terribly. good morning, dear mr. abner--remember there will be no postponement, on account of the weather." no. xxxiii. i am sad. it is my duty to record an event of deep and universal interest. on sunday night, precisely as the clock of the old south church struck the very first stroke of twelve, departed this life, of no particular malady, but from a sort of constitutional decay, to which the family has ever been periodically liable, and at the same age, at which his ancestors have died, for many generations, a. millesimus octingentesimus quadragesimus octavus. it has been a custom in france, and in other countries, to send printed invitations to friends and relatives, inviting them to funerals. i have heard of a thriving widow--_la veuve berthier_--who added a short postscript--_madame berthier will be happy to furnish soap and candles, at the old stand, as heretofore_. i trust i shall not be deemed guilty of a like indiscretion, if i add, for general information, that the business will be conducted hereafter, in the name of a. m. o. q. nonus. i did intend to be facetious, but, for the soul of me, i cannot. it is enough for me to know that the old year is dead and gone, and that the hopes and fears of millions are now lying in its capacious grave. between the old year and the new, the space is so incalculably narrow, that, if those ancient philosophers were in the right, who contended, that an angel could not live in a vacuum, no angel, in the flesh, or out of it, could possibly get between the two: the partition is thin as tissue paper--thin as that between wit and madness, which is so exceedingly thin, as to be often undistinguishable, leaving us in doubt, on which side our neighbors may be found,--when at home. i see, clearly, in the close of another year, another milestone, upon time's highway, from chaos to eternity. is it not wise, and natural, and profitable, for the pilgrim to pause, and mark his lessening way? he cannot possibly know the precise number of milestones, that lie between the present and his journey's end; but he may sometimes shrewdly guess from the number he has passed already. there is precious little certainty, however, in the very best of man's arithmetic, on a subject like this: for, at every milestone, from the very first, and at countless intermediate points, he will observe innumerable tablets, recording the fact, that myriads of travellers have stopped here and there, not for the want of willingness to go forward, but for the want of breath--not for the night, to be awakened at the morning watch, by the attentive host, or the railway whistle,--but for a long, long while, to be summoned, at last, by the piercing notes of a clarion, loud and clear, which, as the bow of ulysses could be bent only by the master's hand, can be raised, only by the lips and the lungs of an archangel. well, quadragesimus octavus hath gone to his long home, and the mourners go about the streets--a motley group it is, that band of melancholy followers! upon this, as upon all other occasions of the same sort, true tears, from the very well-spring of the heart, fall, together with showers of hypocritical salt water. little children, who must ever refer their orphanage to the year that is past, are in the van; and with them, a few widowers and widows, who have not been married quite long enough, to be reconciled to their bereavement. there are others, who also have been divorced from their partners by death, and who submit, with admirable grace; and wear their weeds--of the very best make and fashion, by the way--with infinite propriety. it is quite amazing to see the great number of mourners, who, though, doubtless, natives, have a very israelitish expression, and wear phylacteries, upon which are written three or four words whose import is intelligible, only to the initiated, but which, being interpreted, signify--_three per cent. a month_. none seem to wear an expression of more heartfelt sorrow, for the departure of quadragesimus octavus, during whose existence, being less greedy of honors than of gain, they were singularly favored, converting the necessities of other men into an abundance of bread and butter, for themselves. in the melancholy train, we behold a goodly number of maiden ladies, dressed in yellow, which is the mourning color of the egyptians, and some of these disconsolate damsels are really beginning to acquire the mummy complexion: it happened that, as the old year expired, they were just turned of thirty. there are others, who have sufficient reason to mourn, and whose numerous writings have brought them into serious trouble. their works, commencing with a favorite expression--_for value received i promise to pay_, owing to something rather pointed in the phraseology, were liable to be severely criticised, so soon as the old year expired. the lovers of parade, and show, and water celebrations, and torch-light processions, trumpeting and piping merrymakings, and huzzaings, the brayings of stump orators, and the intolerable noise and farrago of electioneering; the laudings and vituperatings of taylor, cass, and van buren; the ferocious lyings and vilifyings of partisans, politically drunk or crazy--the lovers of all or any of these things are one and all, attendants at the funeral of quadragesimus octavus. the good old year is gone--and, in the words of a celebrated clergyman, to a bereaved mother, who would not be comforted, but wailed the louder, the more he pressed upon her the duty of submission--"_what do you propose to do about it?_" i cannot answer for you, my gentle reader, but i am ready to answer for myself. as an old sexton, i believe it to be my duty to pay immediate attention to the very significant command--whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in the grave, whither thou goest. if good old samuel had been an undertaker, he could not have said, more confidently than i do, at this moment, whose corpse have i taken, or whose shroud have i taken, or whom have i defrauded, or whom have i buried east for west, or wrong end foremost? of what surgeon have i received a fee, for a skeleton, to blind mine eyes withal? i have neither the head nor the heart for mystical theology. i believe in the doctrine of election, as established by the constitution and laws of the united states, and of the states respectively, so far as regards the president, vice president, and all town, county and state officers: and i respect the egyptians, for one trait, recorded of them, by an eminent historian, who states, that those, who worship an ape, never quarrel with those, who worship an ox. a very fine verse, the thirteenth of the last chapter of ecclesiastes--"let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: fear god, and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man." let us try, during the year, upon whose threshold we are now standing, to do as much good, and as little harm, as possible. i respectfully recommend to all old men and women, who are as grey and grizzly as i am, to make themselves as agreeable as they can; and remember, that old age is proverbially peevish and exacting. in the presence of children, do not forget the wise sayings of parson primrose, who candidly confessed, when solicited to join in some childish pastime, that he complied, for he was tired of being always wise. pray allow all you can for the vivacity and waywardness of youth. nine young ladies, in ten, may find a clever fit, in pope's shrewd line-- "brisk as a flea, and ignorant as dirt." all, that can be said about it, lies in a filbert shell, _ita lex scripta est, ita rerum natura_. you will not mend the matter, by scowling and growling, from morning to night. can you not remember, that you yourself, when a boy, were saluted now and then, with the title of "proper plague"--"devil's bird"--or "little pickle?" i can. some years ago, my very worthy friend, the rev. john s. c. abbott, did me the kindness to give me one of his excellent works, the path of peace. the preface contains a very short and clever incident, of whose applicability, you can judge for yourself. "mother," said a little boy, "i do not wish to go to heaven." "and why not, my son?" "why, grandfather will be there, will he not?" "yes, my son, i hope he will." "well, as soon as he sees us, he will come, scolding along, and say, 'whew, whew, whew! what are these boys here for?' i am sure i do not wish to go to heaven, if grandfather is to be there." this is a short tale of a grandfather, but it is a very significant story, for its length; and calculated, i fear, for many meridians. well, here we are, in the very midst of bells and bonfires, screaming for joy, in honor of the new year, with our spandy new weepers on, for the old one. no. xxxiv. viewed in every possible relation, the most melancholy and distressing funerals, of which i have any knowledge, were a series of interments, which occurred in charleston, south carolina, not very many years ago, and of which, in , i received, while sojourning there, a particular account, from an inhabitant of that hospitable city. these funerals were among the blacks; and, as there was no epidemic at the time, their frequency, at length, attracted observation. every day or two, the colored population were seen, bearing, apparently, one of their number to the place, appointed for all living. suspicion was, at last, awakened--a post mortem examination was resolved on--the graves, which proved to be uncommonly shallow, were opened--the coffins lifted out, and examined--and found to be filled, not with corpses, but with muskets, swords, pistols, pikes, knives, hatchets, and such other weapons, as might be necessary, for the perfection of a deadly work, which had been long projected, and was then not far from its consummation. these, i say, were the most melancholy funerals, of which i have any knowledge. this was burying the hatchet, in a novel sense. in , the tumult of mind, resulting from immediate apprehension, had, in a great degree, subsided; yet a rigorous system of espionage continued, in full operation--the spirit of vigilance was still on tiptoe--the arsenal was in excellent working order, and capable, at any moment, of turning its iron shower, in every direction--the separate gathering of the blacks, for religious worship, had been, and still was, prohibited; for it was believed, that the little tabernacle, in which, before this alarming discovery, the colored people were in the habit of assembling, had been used, in some sort, for the purpose of holding insurrectionary conclaves; perhaps for the purpose also of muttering prayers, between their teeth, to the bondman's god, to give him strength to break his fetters. at the time, to which i refer, the slaves, who attended religious services, on the sabbath, entered the same temples with their masters, who paid their vows, on cushions, while many of the slaves worshipped, squatting in the aisles. at this time, slaves, _ex cautela_, were forbidden, under penalty of imprisonment and the lash, from being present at any conflagration. under a like penalty, they were commanded to retire instantly, upon the very first stroke of the curfew bell, to their homes and cabins. at every quarter of an hour, through the whole night, the cry of _all's well_ was sent forth by the armed sentinel, from the top of st. michael's tower. such was the state of things, in , in the city of charleston. melancholy as were these funerals, the undertakers were quite as ingenious, as those cunning greeks, who contrived the trojan horse, _divinâ palladis arte_. melancholy and ominous funerals were they--for they were incidents of slavery, the curse colossal--that huge, unsightly cicatrice, upon the very face of our heritage. well may we say to the most favored nation of the earth, in paul's proud words,--_would to god ye were not only almost, but altogether such as we are, saving these bonds_. after taking a mental and moral _coup d'oeil_ of these matters, i remember that i lay long, upon my pillow, not consigning my southern friends and brethren, votively, to the devil; but thanking god, for that blessed suggestion, which led good, old massachusetts, and the other states of the north, to abolish slavery, within their own domains. slavery is a curse, not only to the long-suffering slave, but to the mortified master. this chivalry of the south--what is it? every man of the south, or the north, who comes to the blessed conclusion, that, while others own _jackasses_, _horses_, _and horned cattle_, he actually _owns men_--what a thought!--will soon become filled with this very chivalry. it is the lordly consciousness of dominion over one's fellow-man--a sort of satrap-like feeling of power--a sentiment extremely oriental, which begets that important and consequential air of superiority, that marks the southern man and the southern boy,--mr. calhoun, diving, like one of pope's heroes, after first principles, and fetching up, for a fact, the pleasant fancy, that _man is not born of a woman_--or the young, travelling gentleman, full of "suth cralina," who comes hither, to sojourn awhile, and carries in every look, that almost incomprehensible mixture of pride and sensitiveness, which is equally repulsive and ridiculous. the bitterness of sectional feeling is a necessary incident of slavery. civil and servile wars are among its terrible contingencies. slavery cannot endure in our land, though the end be not yet. i had rather the cholera should spread, than this moral scourge, over our new domains--not, upon my honor, because the former would be a help to our profession, but because a dead is more bearable, than a living curse. of all the sciolists, who have offered their services, to remedy this evil, the conscience party is the most remarkable. a self-consecrated party, with their phlogistic system, would deal with the whole south, which, on this topic, is a perfect hornet's nest already, precisely as an intelligent farmer, in vermont, dealt with a hornet's nest, under the eaves of his dwelling--he applied the actual cautery; his practice was successful--he destroyed the nest, and with it his entire mansion. there are men, of this party, to whom the constitution and laws of the union are objects of infinite contempt; who despise the bible; who would overthrow the civil magistrate; and unfrock the clergy. but there are many others, who abjure such doctrines--a species of conscience comeouters--who intend, after they have unkennelled the whirlwind, to appoint a committee of three, from every county, to hold it by the tail, _ne quid detrimenti respublica caperet_. these are to be selected from the most careful and judicious, who, when the firebrand is thrown into the barrel of gunpowder, will have a care, that not more than a moderate quantity shall be ignited. the constitution is a contract, made by our fathers, and binding on their children. who shall presume to say that contract is void, for want of consideration, or because the subject is _malum in se_? who shall decide the question of _nudum pactum_ or not? not one of the parties, nor two, nor any number, short of the whole, can annul this solemn contract; nor can a decision of the question of constitutionality come from any other tribunal, than the supreme judicial court of the united states. lord mansfield's celebrated dictum--_fiat justitia, ruat cælum_, has been often absurdly applied, and in connection with this very question of slavery and its removal. _justitia_ is a broad word, and refers not solely to the rights of the slave, but to those of the freeman. the proposition of the full-bottomed abolitionist--immediate emancipation, or dissolution of the union, and civil and servile war to boot, if it must be so--is fit to be taught, only to the tenants of a madhouse. but there is a spirit abroad, whose tendency cannot be mistaken. slavery is becoming daily more and more odious, in the east, in the west, in the north, ay, and in the south. individually, many slaveholders are becoming less attached to their _property_. there may be too much even of _this good thing_. slavery would continue longer, in the present slave states, if it were extended to the new territories; for it would be rendered more bearable in the former, by the power of sloughing off the redundancy, on profitable terms. the spirit of emancipation is striding over the main land, walking upon the waters, and planting its foot, upon one dark island after another. _let us hope_--better to do that, than mischief. let us rejoice, that, as the scotch say, _there is a god aboon a'_--better to do that, than spit upon our bibles, and scoff at law and order. it is always better to stand still, than move rudely and rashly, in the dark. such was the decided opinion of my old friend and fellow-sexton, grossman, when he fell, head first, into an unclosed tomb, and broke his enormous nose. no. xxxv. in looking up a topic, for my dealings with the dead, this afternoon, i can think of nothing more interesting, at the present time, than _lot's wife and the dead sea_. i consider lieutenant lynch the most fortunate of modern discoverers. he has discovered the long lost lady of lot--the veritable pillar of salt! there are some incredulous persons, i am aware, who are of opinion, that the account of this discovery should be received, _cum grano salis_; but my own mind is entirely made up. i should have been better pleased, i admit, if he had verified the suggestion, which led to the discovery, by bringing home a leg, or an arm. possibly, it may be thought proper to send a government vessel, for the entire pillar, to ornament the rotunda at washington. the identification of lot's wife is rendered exceedingly simple, by the fact, that seventeen of her fingers, and not less than fourteen of her toes, broken off from time to time, by the faithful, as relics, are exhibited in various churches and monasteries. models of these, in plaster, could readily be obtained, i presume; and an application of their fractured parts to the salt corpse, discovered by lieutenant lynch, would settle the question, in the manner, employed to test the authenticity of ancient indentures. besides, every one knows, that salt is a self preserver, and lasting in its character, especially the attic. the very elements of preservation abound in the dead sea, and the region round about. its very name establishes the fact--_asphaltites_--so called from the immense quantity of _asphaltum_ or bitumen, with which it abounds. this is called _jews' pitch_, and was used of old, for embalming; and the corpse of mrs. lot, after the salt had thoroughly penetrated, rolled up, as it probably was found by lieutenant lynch, in a winding sheet of bitumen, which readily envelopes everything it touches, would last forever. this pitch is often sold by the druggists, under the name of mummy. in judea, with the territory of moab, on the east, and the wilderness of judah, on the west, and having the lands of reuben and edom, or idumea, on the north and south, lies that sheet of mysterious and unfrequented water, which has been called the east sea--the salt sea--the sea of the desert--the sea of the plain--the sea of sodom--and, more commonly, the dead sea. to this i beg leave to add another title, the legendary lake, or humbug water. more marvel has been marked, learned, and inwardly digested, by christians, on the subject of this sheet of water, than the broad ocean has ever supplied, to stir the landman's heart. its dimensions, in the first place, have been set down, with remarkable discrepancy. pliny, lib. v. , says, longitudine excedit centum m. passuum, latitudine maxima xxv., implet, minima sex, making the length one hundred miles, and the breadth, from twenty-five miles, to six. josephus estimates its length at five hundred and eighty furlongs, from the mouth of the jordan, to the town of segor, at the opposite end; and its greatest breadth one hundred and fifty furlongs. the rev. dr. william jenks, of whose learning and labors a sexton of the old school may be permitted to speak, with great respect, sets down the length, in his new gazetteer of the bible, appended to his explanatory bible atlas, of , at thirty-nine miles, and its greatest breadth at nine. carne, in his letters from the east, says the length is sixty miles, and the breadth from eight to ten. stephens states the length to be thirty miles, in his incidents of travel. the origin of this lake was ascribed to the submersion of the valley of siddim, where the cities stood, which were destroyed, in the conflagration of sodom and gomorrah. this tremendous gallimaufry or hotch potch, produced, as some suppose, an intolerable stench, and impregnated the waters with salt, sulphur, and bitumen. pliny, in the passage quoted above,--observes--nullum corpus animalium recipit--no animal can live in it. speaking of these waters, dr. jenks remarks--"no animals exist in them." on the other hand, dr. pococke, on the authority of a monk, tells us, that fish have been caught in the dead sea. _per contra_ again, mr. volney affirms, that it contains neither animal nor vegetable life. m. chateaubriand, on the other hand, who visited the dead sea, in , remarks--"about midnight, i heard a noise upon the lake, and was told by the bethlehemites, who accompanied me, that it proceeded from legions of small fish, which come out, and leap upon the shore." the monks of st. saba assured dr. shaw, as he states in his travels, that they had seen fish caught there. in the passage quoted from pliny, he says--tauri camelique fluitant. inde fama nihil in eo mergi--bulls and camels float upon this lake: hence the notion, that nothing will sink in it. it is true, that the water of the dead sea is specifically heavier than any other, owing to the great quantity of salt, sulphur, and bitumen; but dr. pococke found not the slightest difficulty, in swimming and diving in the lake. sir thomas browne, treating of this, in his pseudodoxia, vol. iii., p. , london, , observes--"as for the story, men deliver it variously. some, i fear too largely, as pliny, who affirmeth that bricks will swim therein. mandevil goeth further, that iron swimmeth and feathers sink." "but," continueth sir thomas, "andrew thevet, in his cosmography, doth ocularly overthrow it, for he affirmeth he saw an ass with his saddle cast therein and drowned." another legend is equally absurd, that birds, attempting to fly over the lake, fall, stifled by its horrible vapors. "it is very common," says volney, "to see swallows skimming its surface, and dipping for the water, necessary to build their nests." mr. stephens, in his incidents of travel, vol. ii. chap. , gives an interesting account of the dead sea, and says--"i saw a flock of gulls floating quietly on its bosom." it has been roundly asserted, that, in very clear weather, the ruins of the cities, destroyed by the conflagration, are visible beneath the waters. josephus soberly avers, that a smoke constantly arose from the lake, whose waters changed their color three times daily. the waters of jordan and of the brooks kishon, jabbok, and arnon, flow into the dead sea, yet produce no perceptible rise of its surface. the influx from these mountain streams is considerable. hence another legend, to account for this mystery--a subterraneous communication with the mediterranean--which would surely make the matter worse, for dr. jenks and other writers state, that "the waters lie in a deep caldron, many hundred feet _below_ the mediterranean." evaporation, which is said to be very great, explains the mystery entirely. at the rising of the sun, dense fogs cover the lake. chateaubriand says--"the first thing i did, on alighting, was to walk into the lake, up to my knees, and taste the water. i found it impossible to keep it in my mouth. it far exceeds that of the sea, in saltness, and produces, upon the lips, the effect of a strong solution of alum. before my boots were completely dry, they were covered with salt; our clothes, our hats, our hands were, in less than three hours, impregnated with this mineral." "the origin of this mineral," says volney, "is easy to be discovered, for, on the southwest shore, are mines of fossil salt. they are situated, in the sides of the mountains, which extend along the border; and, for time immemorial, have supplied the neighboring arabs, and even the city of jerusalem." "whoever," says mr. carne, in his letters from the east, "has seen the dead sea, will have its aspect impressed upon his memory. it is, in truth, a gloomy and fearful spectacle. the precipices, in general, descend abruptly to the lake, and, on account of their height, it is seldom agitated by the winds. its shores are not visited, by any footstep, save that of the wild arab, and he holds it in superstitious dread. on some parts of the rocks, there is a thick, sulphureous incrustation, and, in their steep descents, there are several deep caverns, where the benighted bedouin sometimes finds a home. the sadness of the grave was on it and around it, and the silence also. however vivid the feelings are, on arriving on its shores, they subside, after a time, into languor and uneasiness; and you long, if it were possible, to see a tempest wake on its bosom, to give sound and life to the scene." "if we adopt," says chateaubriand, "the idea of professor michaelis, and the learned busching, in his memoir on the dead sea, physics may be admitted, to explain the catastrophe of the guilty cities, without offence to religion. sodom was built upon a mine of bitumen, as we know from the testimony of moses and josephus, who speak concerning wells of bitumen, in the valley of siddim. lightning kindled the combustible mass, and the cities sank in the subterranean conflagration." in calmet's dictionary of the bible, vol. iii., article lot, it is stated, that the mahometans have added many circumstances to his history. they assert, that the angel gabriel pried up the devoted cities so near to heaven, that the angels actually heard the sound of the trumpets and horns, and even the yelping of puppies, in sodom and gomorrah: and that gabriel then let the whole concern go with a terrible crash. upon this, calmet remarks,--"romantic as this account appears, it preserves traces of an earthquake and a volcano, which were, in all probability, the _natural secondary cause_ of the overthrow of sodom, and of the formation of the dead sea." lot's wife in my next. no. xxxvi. the conversion of lot's wife into a pillar of salt has given rise to as much learned discussion, as the question, so zealously agitated, between barcephas and others, whether the forbidden fruit were an _apple_ or a _fig_. _but his wife looked back from behind him, and she became a pillar of salt._ gen. xix. . very little account seems to have been made of this matter, at the time. the whole story, and without note or comment, is told in these fifteen words. it would have seemed friendly, and natural, and proper, for abraham to have said a few words of comfort to lot, on this sudden and singular bereavement; but, instead of this, we are told, in the following verse, that abraham got up, next morning, and looked, very philosophically, at the smoke, which went up from the cities of the plain, like the smoke of a furnace. this neglect of lot's wife is, too frequently, a wife's lot. some of the learned have been sorely perplexed, to understand, why this unfortunate lady has not long since melted away, under the influence of the rains; for a considerable quantity of water has fallen, since the destruction of sodom. but they seem to forget, that there is no measure of limitation, for a miracle; and that the salt might have been purposely designed, like _caoutchouc_, to resist the action of water. the departure from sodom was sudden, to be sure; but the lady was clothed, in some sort, doubtless; yet nothing has been said, by travellers, about her drapery, and whether that also was converted into salt, or cast off, by the mere energy of the miracle, is unknown. this pillar of salt josephus says he has seen; and, though he does not name the time, it is of little consequence, as, in such a matter, we can well afford to throw in a century or two; but it must have been between a. d. , and a point, not long after the th year of domitian. such being the term of the existence of josephus, as nearly as can be ascertained. the cities of the plain were destroyed, according to calmet's reckoning, years before christ; therefore, _the pillar_, which josephus saw, must have then been standing more than nineteen centuries. these are the words of josephus: "_but lot's wife, continually turning back, to view the city, as she went from it, and being too nicely inquisitive what would become of it, although god had forbidden her so to do, was changed into a pillar of salt, for i have seen it, and it remains at this day_." antiq., vol. i. p. , whiston's translation, lond. . the editor, in a note states, that clement of rome, a cotemporary of josephus, also saw it, and that irenæus saw it, in the next century. mr. whiston prudently declines being responsible for the statements of modern travellers, who say they have seen it. and what did they see?--a pillar of salt. this is quite probable. volney remarks, "at intervals we met with misshapen blocks, which prejudiced eyes mistake for mutilated statues, and which pass, with ignorant and superstitious pilgrims, for monuments of the adventure of lot's wife; though it is nowhere said that she was metamorphosed into stone, like niobe, but into salt, which must have melted the ensuing winter." volney forgets, that the salt itself was miraculous, and, doubtless, water proof. mr. stephens, in his incidents of travel, though he gives a description of the dead sea, in whose waters he bathed, says not a syllable of lot's wife, or the pillar of salt. some of the learned have opined, that lot's wife, like pliny, during the eruption of vesuvius, was overwhelmed, by the burning and flying masses of sulphur and bitumen; this is suggested, under the article, lot's wife, in calmet. "some travellers in palestine," says he, "relate that lot's wife was shown to them, i. e. the rock, into which she was metamorphosed. but what renders their testimony very suspicious is, that they do not agree, about the place, where it stands; some saying westward, others eastward, some northward, others southward of the dead sea; others in the midst of the waters; others in zoar; others at a great distance from the city." in , prince nicholas radziville took a vast deal of pains to discover this remarkable pillar of salt, but all his inquiries were fruitless. dr. adam clarke suggests, that lot's wife, by lingering in the plain, may have been struck dead with lightning, and enveloped in the bituminous and sulphureous matter, that descended. he refers to a number of stories, that have been told, and among them, that this pillar possessed a miraculous, reproductive energy, whereby the fingers and toes of the unfortunate lady were regenerated, instanter, as fast as they were broken off, by the hands of pilgrims. irenæus, one of the fathers, asserts, that this pillar of salt was _actually alive in his time_! some of those fathers, i am grieved to say it, were insufferable story-tellers. this tale is also told, by the author of a poem, _de sodoma_, appended to the life of tertullian. some learned men understand the hebrew to mean simply, that "_she became fixed in the salsuginous soil_"--anglice, _stuck in the mud_. if this be the real meaning of the passage, it must have been some other lady, that was seen by josephus, clement, irenæus, and lieut. lynch. sir thomas browne, credulous though he was, had, probably, no great confidence in the _literal_ construction of the passage in genesis. in vol. iii. page , of his works, london, , he says--"we will not question the metamorphosis of lot's wife, or whether she were transformed into a real statue of salt; though some conceive that expression metaphorical, and no more thereby than a lasting and durable column, according to the nature of salt, which admitteth no corruption." this is evidently the opinion of dr. adam clarke. in other words, god, by her destruction, while her husband and daughters were saved, made her a _pillar or lasting memorial_ to the disobedient. in this sense a pillar of _salt_ means neither more nor less than an _everlasting memorial_. salt is the symbol of perpetuity; thus numbers xviii. . _it is a covenant of salt forever_: and chron. xvii. , the kingdom is given to david and his sons forever, _by a covenant of salt_. if this be the true construction, those four gentlemen, to whom i have referred, have been entirely misled, in supposing that any one of those masses of salt, which volney says may be mistaken, for the remains of mutilated statues, has ever, at any period of the world, been the object of lot's devotion, or the partner of his joys and sorrows. in vol. ii. page , of his incidents of travel, new york, , mr. stephens, referring to an account, received by him, respecting what he supposed to be an island in the dead sea, writes thus--"_it comes from one who ought to know, from the only man, who ever made the tour of that sea, and lived to tell of it_." if mr. stephens will look at chateaubriand's travels, and his fine description of the dead sea, he will find there the following passage: "_no person has yet made the tour of it but daniel, abbot of st. saba. nau has preserved in his travels the narrative of that recluse. from his account we learn_," &c. "the celebrated lake," says chateaubriand, "which occupies the site of sodom, is called in scripture the dead or salt sea." not so: it is no where called the dead sea, in the sacred writings. by the turks, it is called ula deguisi, and by the arabs, bahar loth and almotanah. it is quite desirable for travellers to be well apprized of all, that is previously known, in regard to the field of their peregrination. goldsmith once projected a plan of visiting the east, for the purpose of bringing to england such inventions and models, as might be useful. johnson laughed at the idea, and denounced goldsmith, as entirely incompetent, from his ignorance of what already existed--"he will bring home a wheelbarrow," said johnson, "and think he had made a great addition to our stock." mr. stephens has preserved a respectable silence, on the subject of lot's wife. the island, which is above referred to, turned out, like sancho's in barrataria, to be an optical illusion. the maltese sailor, who said he had rowed about the lake with his employer, a mr. costigan, who died on its shores, was disposed, after fingering his fee, to enlarge and improve his former narrative. mr. stephens does not give the date of costigan's visit to the dead sea. he, however, furnishes a linear map of its form. this also is drawn by the maltese sailor, from memory. all that can be said of it is, that it corresponds with other plans, in one particular,--the jordan enters the sea, at its northern extremity. probably, no very accurate plan is to be found, such have been the impediments in the way of any deliberate examination--unless lieutenant lynch has succeeded in the work. the figure of the dead sea, in the atlas of lucas, has no resemblance to the figure, in the late bible atlas by dr. jenks. no. xxxvii. dr. johnson said, if an atheist came into his house, he would lock up his spoons. i have always distrusted a sexton, who did not cherish a sentiment of profound and cordial affection, for his bell. it did my heart good, when a boy, to mark the proud satisfaction, with which lutton, the sexton of the old brick, used to ring for fire. i have no confidence in a fellow, who can toll his bell, for a funeral, and listen to its deep, and solemn vibrations, without a gentle subduing of the spirit. i never had a great affection for clafflin, the sexton of berry street church; but i always respected the deep feeling of indignation he manifested, if anybody meddled with his bellrope. bells were treated more honorably in the olden time, and ringing was an art--an accomplishment--then. holden tells us some fine stories of the societies of ringers. in his youth, sir matthew hale was a member of one of those societies. in , nell gwinne--and it may be lawful to take the devil's water, as dr. worcester said, to turn the lord's mill--nell gwinne left the ringers of the church bells of st. martin's-in-the-fields, where there is a peal of twelve, a sum of money, for a weekly entertainment. i never shall get the chime of the north church bells out of my ears--i hope i never shall--more than half an hundred years ago, my mother used to open the window, of a christmas eve, that we might hear their music! in the olden time, bells were baptized--_rantized_ i presume--and wore _posies_ on their collars. they were first cast in england, in the reign of edmund i., and the first tunable set, or peal, for croyland abbey, was cast a. d. . weever tells us, in his funeral monuments, that, in , the bells of the priory of little dunmow, in essex, were baptized, by the names of st. michael, st. john, virgin mary, &c. as late as , the great bell of notre dame, in paris, was baptized, by the name of the duke of angouleme. bells were supposed to be invested with extraordinary powers. they were employed, not only to call the congregation together, to give notice of conflagrations, civil commotions, and the approach of an enemy, and to ring forth the merry holiday peal--but to quell tempests, pacify the restless dead, and arrest the very lightning. bells often bore inscriptions like these: laudo deum verum, plebem voco, conjugo clerum, defunctos ploro, pestem fugo, festa decoro. funera plango; fulgura frango; sabbata pango; excito lentos; dissipo ventos; paco cruentos. the _passing bell_ was the bell, which announced to the people, according to mabillon, that a spirit was taking its flight, or _passing away_, and demanding their prayers. bells were also used to frighten away evil spirits, that were supposed to be on the watch, for their customers. the learned durandus affirms, that all sorts of devils have a terror of bells. this, of course, can only be true of bells, that have been received into the flock, that is, baptized. such was the popish belief, and that the very devil, himself, cared not a fig, for an unbaptized bell. de worde, in his golden legend, sayeth "it is said the evill spirytes that ben in the regyon of the ayre doubte moche, when they here the belles rongen, and this is the cause why the belles ben rongen, whan it thondreth, and when grate tempests and outrages of wether happen, to the ende that the feinds and wycked spirytes should be abashed and flee, and cease of the movinge of tempests." compared with the big bells of the earth--ours--the very largest--are cowbells, at best. the great bell of st. paul's weighs pounds--a small affair; great tom of lincoln, --great tom of oxford, , . this is precisely the weight of the bell of the palazzo, at florence;--st. peter's at rome, , --the great bell at erfurth, , --st. joan's bell, at moscow, , --the bell of the kremlin, , . the last is the marvel of travellers, and its metal, at a low estimate, is valued at £ , . during the fusion of this bell, considerable quantities of gold and silver were cast in, the pious contribution of the people. this enormous mass has never been suspended. there was a bell--_parvis componere magna_--a very little bell indeed--very--a perfect _tintinabulum_. it made a most ridiculous noise. an account of this bell may be found, in a pamphlet, entitled historical notices, &c., of the new north religious society, in the town of boston, . it weighed, says the writer, "_between three and four hundred_." twelve or thirteen hundred such bells, therefore, would just about counterpoise the bell of the kremlin. "its tone," says the writer, "_was unpleasant_." the preposterous clatter of this bell was, nevertheless, the gathering cry of the worshippers, at the new north church, for the term of eighty-three years, from to , when it was purchased by the town of charlton, in the county of worcester; probably to frighten the _evyll spirytes_, in the shape of wolves and foxes, abounding there, that would be likely to _doubte moche_, when this bell was _ben rongen_. not to look a gift horse in the mouth is a proverb--not to criticise the tone of a gift bell may be another. this bell, which a stout south down wether might almost have carried off, was the gift of _mr. john frizzell_, a merchant of boston, to the new north church, _on the island of north boston_, as all that portion of the town was then called, lying north of mill creek. on the principle which gave the title of bell the cat to the famous archibald, frizzell should have borne the name of bell the church. let it pass: frizzell and his little bell are both translated. the tongue of the former is still; that of the latter still waggeth, i believe, in the town of charlton. the authenticity of the statements in the pamphlet to which i have referred, admits not of a doubt. the name of its highly respectable author, though not upon the title-page, appears in the certificate of copyright; and, in the range of my limited reading, i have met with nothing, more curious and grotesque, than his account of the installation of the rev. peter thacher, over the new north church, jan. , . upon no less respectable evidence, would i have believed, that our amiable ancestors could have acted so much like _evil spirytes_, upon such an occasion. i have not elbow room for the farce entire--one or two touches must suffice. after agreeing upon a mode of choosing a colleague, for the rev. mr. webb, and pitching upon mr. thacher, a quarrel arose, among the people. the council met, on the day of installation, at the house of the rev. mr. webb, at the corner of north bennet and salem streets. the aggrieved assembled, at the house of thomas lee, in bennet street, next to the universal meeting-house. a knowledge of these points is necessary, for a correct understanding of the subsequent strategy. if the council attempted to go to the new north church, through the street, in the usual way, they must necessarily pass lee's house. the aggrieved waited on the council, by a committee, requesting them not to proceed with the installation of mr. thacher; and assuring them, that, if they persisted, force would be used, to prevent their occupation of the church. instead, therefore, of proceeding through the street, the rev. mr. webb led the council, by his back gate, through love lane, and a little alley, leading to the meeting-house, and thus got possession of the pulpit. thus, by a knowledge of by-ways, so important in the _petite guerre_, the worthy clergyman outwitted the malcontents. a mob, to whom an installation, in such sort, was highly acceptable, had already gathered. the party at lee's house, being apprised of the ruse, and perceiving they were _in danger of the council_, flew to the rescue. they rushed into the church; vociferously forbade the proceedings, and were "_indecent_," says the writer, "_almost beyond credibility_." "however incredible," continues the narrator, "it is a fact, that some of the most unruly did sprinkle a liquor, which shall be nameless, from the galleries, upon the people below." the wife of josiah langdon used to tell, with great asperity, of her being a sufferer by it. this good lady retained her resentment to old age--the filthy creatures entirely spoiled a new velvet hood, which she had made for the occasion, and she could not wear it again. in the midst of this uproar, mr. thacher was installed. "the malcontents," says the writer, "went off in a bad humor. they proceeded to the gathering of another church. in the plenitude of their zeal, they first thought of denominating it the _revenge_ church of christ; but they thought better of it, and called it the new brick church. however, the first name was retained, for many years, among the common people. their zeal was great, indeed, and descended to puerility. they placed the figure of a cock, as a vane, upon the steeple, out of derision of mr. thacher, whose christian name was peter. taking advantage of a wind, which turned the head of the cock towards the new north meeting-house, when it was placed upon the spindle, a merry fellow straddled over it, and crowed three times, to complete the ceremony." the solemn, if not the sublime, and the ridiculous, seem, not unfrequently, to have met together at ordinations, in the olden time. "i could mention an ordination," says the rev. leonard woods, of andover, in a letter, written and published, a few years since, "that took place about twenty years ago, at which i, myself, was ashamed and grieved, to see two aged ministers literally drunk; and a third indecently excited with strong drink. these disgusting and appalling facts i should wish might be concealed. but they were made public, by the guilty persons; and i have thought it just and proper to mention them, in order to show how much we owe to a compassionate god, for the great deliverance he has wrought." legitimate occasion for a te deum this, most certainly. no. xxxviii. the _præficæ_, or mourning women, were not confined to greece, rome, and judea. in , colonel keatinge published the history of his travels. his account of moorish funerals, is, probably, the best on record. the dead are dressed in their best attire. the ears, nostrils, and eyelids are filled with costly spices. virgins are ornamented with bracelets, on their wrists and ankles. the body is enfolded in sanctified linen. if a male, a turban is placed at the head of the coffin; if a female, a large bouquet. before a virgin is buried, the _loo loo loo_ is sung, by hired women, that she may have the benefit of the wedding song. "when a person," says mr. keatinge, "is thought to be dying, he is immediately surrounded by his friends, who begin to scream, in the most hideous manner, to convince him that there is no more hope, and that he is already reckoned among the dead." premature burial is said to be very common, among the moors. for this, mr. keatinge accounts, in this manner: "as, according to their religion, they cannot think the departed happy, till they are under ground, they are washed instantly, while yet warm; and the greatest consolation the sick man's friends can have, is to see him smile, while this operation is performing; not supposing such an appearance to be a convulsion, occasioned by washing and exposing the unfortunate person to the cold air, before life has taken its final departure." when a death occurs, the relations immediately set up the _wooliah woo_; or death scream. this cry is caught up, from house to house, and hundreds of women are instantly gathered to the spot. they come to scream and mourn with the bereaved. this species of condolence is very happily described by colonel keatinge, page . "they," the howlers, "take her," the mother, widow or daughter, "in their arms, lay her head on their shoulders, and scream without intermission for several minutes, till the afflicted object, stunned with the constant howling and a repetition of her misfortune, sinks senseless on the floor. they likewise hire a number of women, who make this horrid noise round the bier, over which they scratch their faces, to such a degree, that they appear to have been bled with a lancet. these women are hired at burials, weddings and feasts. their voices are heard at the distance of half a mile. it is the custom of those, who can afford it, to give, on the evening of the day the corpse is buried, a quantity of hot-dressed victuals to the poor. this, they call "the supper of the grave." dr. e. d. clarke observes, in his travels in egypt, lond., , that he recognized, among the egyptians, the same notes, and the repetition of the same syllables, in their funeral cries, that had become familiar to his ear, on like occasions, among the russians and the irish. dr. martin, in his account of the tonga islands, in the south pacific, compiled from mariner's papers, in his narrative of the funeral of a chief, states, that the women mourned over the corpse, through the whole night, sitting as near as possible, singing their dismal death song, and beating their breasts and faces. the desire, to magnify one's apostleship, is, doubtless, at the bottom of all extravagant demonstrations of sorrow, at funerals, in the form of screaming, howling, yelling, personal laceration, and disfigurement. in the highly interesting account of the missionary enterprise, upon which the duff was employed, in , it was stated, that, at the funeral of a chief of tongataboo, the people of both sexes continued, during two days, to mangle and hack themselves, in a shocking manner;--some thrust spears, through their thighs, arms, and cheeks; others beat their heads, till the blood gushed forth in streams; one man, having oiled his hair, set it on fire, and ran about the area, with his head in a blaze. this was a burning shame, beyond all doubt. i never forget old tasman's bowl, when i think of this island. tasman discovered tongataboo, in . at parting, he gave the chief a wooden bowl. cook found this bowl, on the island, one hundred and thirty years afterwards. it had been used as a divining bowl, to ascertain the guilt or innocence of persons, charged with crimes. when the chief was absent, at some other of the friendly islands, the bowl was considered as his representative, and honored accordingly. captain cook presented the reigning chief with a pewter platter, and the bowl became immediately _functus officio_, the platter taking its place, for the purposes of divination. in , captain tuckey published the account of his expedition, to explore the zaire, or congo river. he describes a funeral, at embomma, the chief mart, on that river. in returning to their vessel, after a visit to the chief, chenoo, the party observed a hut, in which the corpse of a female was deposited, dressed as when alive. on the inside were four women howling lustily, to whom two men, outside, responded; the concert closely resembling the yell, at an irish funeral. captain tuckey should not have spoken so thoughtlessly of the _keena_, the funeral cry of the wild irish, the most unearthly sound, that ever came from the agonized lungs of mortal. for the most perfect description of this peculiar scream, this inimitable hella-baloo, the reader may turn to mrs. hall's incomparable account of an irish funeral. in close connection with this incident, captain tuckey, p. , remarks, that, in passing through the burying ground, at embomma, they saw two graves, recently prepared, of monstrous size, being not less than nine feet by five. this he explains as follows:--"simmons (a native, returned from england to his native country) requested a piece of cloth to envelop his aunt, who had been dead seven years, and was to be buried in two months. the manner of preserving corpses, for so long a time, is by enveloping them in the cloth of the country, or in european cotton. the wrappers are successively multiplied, as they can be procured by the relations of the deceased, or according to the rank of the person; in the case of a rich and very great man, the bulk being only limited, by the power of conveyance to the grave." when the spaniards entered the province of popayan, they found a similar practice there, with this difference, that the corpse was partially roasted, before it was enveloped. when a chief dies, among the caribs of guyana, his wives, the whole flock of them, watch the corpse for thirty days, to keep off the flies,--a task which becomes daily more burdensome, as the attraction becomes greater. at the expiration of thirty days, it is buried, and one of the ladies, probably the best beloved, with it. some of the orinoco tribes were in the practice of tying a rope to the corpse, and sinking it in the river; in twenty-four hours, it was picked clean to the bones, by the fishes, and the skeleton became a very convenient and tidy memorial. this is decidedly preferable to the mode, adopted by the parsees. their sacred books enjoin them not to pollute _earth_, _water_, or _fire_, with their dead. they therefore feel authorized to pollute the air. they bury not; but place the corpses at a distance, and leave them to their fate. it was the opinion of menu, that the body was a tenement, scarcely worth inhabiting; "a mansion," says he, "with bones for beams and rafters,--nerves and tendons for cords; muscles and blood for mortar; skin for its outward covering; a mansion, infested by age and sorrow, the seat of many maladies, harassed with pains, haunted with darkness, and utterly incapable of standing long--such a mansion let the vital soul, its tenant, always quit cheerfully." this contempt for the tabernacle--the carcass--the outer man--strangely contrasts with that deep regard for it, evinced by the egyptians, and such of the jews, greeks, and romans, as were in the practice of embalming. when that extraordinary man, sir thomas browne, exclaimed, in his hydriotaphia, "who knows the fate of his bones or how oft he shall be buried? who hath the oracle of his ashes, or whither they are to be scattered?" he, doubtless, was thinking of egyptian mummies, transported to europe, forming a part of the materia medica, and being actually swallowed as physic. a writer, in the london quarterly, vol. , p. , states, that, when the old traveller, john sanderson, returned to england, six hundred pounds of mummies were brought home, for the turkey company. i am aware, that it has been denied, by some, that the egyptian mummies were broken up, and sent to europe, for medicinal uses. by them it is asserted, that what the druggists have been supplied with is the flesh of executed criminals, or such others, as the jews can obtain, filled with bitumen, aloes and other things, and baked, till the juices are exhaled, and the embalming matter has fitted the body for transportation. the lord deliver us from such "_doctors' stuff_" as this. no. xxxix. _non sumito, nisi vocatus_: let no man presume to be an undertaker, unless he have a _vocation_--unless he be _called_. if these are not the words of puddifant, to whom i shall presently refer, i have no other conjecture to offer. though, when a boy, i had a sort of hankering after dead men's bones, as i have already related, i never felt myself truly called to be a sexton, until june, . it was in that month and year, that governor sumner was buried. the parade was very great, not only because he had been a governor, but because he had been a very good man. all the sextons were on duty, but lutton, as we called him--his real name was lemuel ludden. he was the sexton of the old brick, where my parents had worshipped, under dear parson clarke, who died, the year before. he had the cleverest way, that man ever had, of winning little boys' hearts--he really seemed to have the key to their little souls. lutton was sick--he was not able to officiate, on that memorable day; and no recently appointed ensign ever felt such a privation more keenly, on the very day of battle. he was a whole-souled sexton, that lutton. he, most obligingly, took me into the old brick church, where joy's buildings now stand, to see the show. there was a half-crazy simpleton, whom it was difficult to prevent from capering before the corpse--a perfect davie gelatly. an awkward boy, whose name was reuben rankin, came from salem, with a small cart-load of pies, which his mother had baked, and sent to boston, hoping for a ready sale, upon the occasion of such an assemblage there. like grouchy, at waterloo, he lost his _tète_; followed the procession, through every street; and returned to salem, with all his wares. it was, while contemplating the high satisfaction, beaming forth, upon the features of the chief undertaker, that i first felt my _vocation_. i ventured, timidly, to ask old lutton, if he thought i had talents for the office. he said, he thought i might succeed, clapped me on the shoulder, and gave me a smile of encouragement, which i never shall forget, till my poor old arm can wield a spade no more, and the sod, which i have so frequently turned upon others, shall be turned upon me. old grossman said, in my hearing, the following morning, that it had been the proudest day of his life. it is very pardonable, for an undertaker, on such occasions, to imagine himself the observed of all observers. this fancy is, by no means, confined to undertakers. chief mourners of both sexes are very liable to the same impression. an over-estimate of one's own importance is pretty universal, especially in a republic. i never did go the length of believing the tale, related, by peter, in his letter to his kinsfolk, who says he knew a scotch weaver, who sat upon his stoop, and read the edinburgh review, till he actually thought he wrote it. i see nothing to smile at, in any man's belief, that he is the object of public attention, on occasions of parade and pageantry. it rather indicates the deep interest of the individual--a solemn sense of responsibility. at the late water celebration, i noticed many examples of this species of personal enthusiasm. the drivers of the oak hall and sarsaparilla expresses were no mean illustrations; and when three cheers were given to the elephant, near the museum, in tremont street, i was pleased to see several of the officials, and one, at least, of the water commissioners, touch their hats, and smile most graciously, in return. puddifant, to whom i have alluded, officiated as sexton, at the funeral of charles i. what a broad field, for painful contemplation, lies here! it is a curious fact, that, while preparations were being made, for depositing the body of king charles in st. george's chapel, at windsor, a common foot soldier is supposed to have stolen a bone from the coffin of henry viii., for the purpose of making a knife-handle. this account is so curious, that i give it entire from wood's athenæ oxonienses, folio edit. vol. ii., p. . "those gentlemen, therefore, herbert and mildmay, thinking fit to submit, and leave the choice of the place of burial to those great persons, (the duke of richmond, marquis of hertford, and earl of lindsey) they, in like manner, viewed the tomb house and the choir; and one of the lords, beating gently upon the pavement with his staff, perceived a hollow sound; and, thereupon ordering the stones to be removed, they discovered a descent into a vault, where two coffins were laid, near one another, the one very large, of an antique form, and the other little. these they supposed to be the bodies of henry viii., and his third wife, queen jane seymour, as indeed they were. the velvet palls, that covered their coffins, seemed fresh, though they had lain there, above one hundred years. the lords agreeing, that the king's body should be in the same vault interred, being about the middle of the choir, over against the eleventh stall, upon the sovereign's side, they gave orders to have the king's name, and year he died, cut in lead; which, whilst the workmen were about, the lords went out, and gave puddifant, the sexton, order to lock the chapel door, and not suffer any to stay therein, till further notice." "the sexton did his best to clear the chapel; nevertheless, isaac, the sexton's man, said that a foot soldier had hid himself so as he was not discovered; and, being greedy of prey, crept into the vault, and cut so much of the velvet pall, that covered the great body, as he judged would hardly be missed, and wimbled a hole through the said coffin that was largest, probably fancying that there was something well worth his adventure. the sexton, at his opening the door, espied the sacrilegious person; who, being searched, a bone was found about him, with which he said he would haft a knife. the girdle or circumscription of capital letters of lead put upon the king's coffin had only these words--king charles, ." this statement perfectly agrees with sir henry halford's account of the examination, april , , in presence of the prince regent. cromwell had a splendid funeral: good old john evelyn saw it all, and describes it in his diary--the waxen effigy, lying in royal robes, upon a velvet bed of state, with crown, sceptre and globe--in less than two years suspended with a rope round the neck, from a window at whitehall. evelyn says, the "funeral was the joyfullest ever seen: none cried but the dogs, which the soldiers hooted away with a barbarous noise, drinking and taking tobacco in the streets as they went." some have said that cromwell's body was privately buried, by his own request, in the field of naseby: others, that it was sunk in the thames, to prevent insult. it was not so. when, upon the restoration, it was decided, to reverse the popular sentiment, oliver's body was sought, in the middle aisle of henry vii's chapel, and there it was found. a thin case of lead lay upon the breast, containing a copper plate, finely gilt, and thus inscribed--oliverius, protector reipublicæ angliæ, scotiæ, et hiberniæ, natus april, --inauguratus decembris --mortuus septembris ann-- . hic situs est. this plate, in , was in possession of the hon george hobart of nocton in lincolnshire. by a vote of the house of commons, cromwell's and ireton's bodies were taken up, jan. , --and, on the monday night following, they were drawn, on two carts, to the red lion inn, holborn, where they remained all night; and, with bradshaw's, which was not exhumed, till the day after, conveyed, on sledges, to tyburn, and hanged on the gallows, till sunset. they were then beheaded--the trunks were buried in a hole, near the gallows, and their heads set on poles, on the top of westminster hall, where cromwell's long remained. the treatment of oliver's character has been in perfect keeping, with the treatment of his carcass. the extremes of censure and of praise have been showered upon his name. he has been canonized, and cursed. the most judicious writers have expressed their views of his character, in well-balanced phrases. cardinal mazarin styled him _a fortunate mad-man_; and, by father orleans, he was called a _judicious villain_. the opinion of impartial men will probably vary very little from that of clarendon, through all time: he says of cromwell--"he was one of those men, _quos vituperare ne inimici quidem possunt, nisi ut simul laudent_;" and again, vol. vii. , oxford ed. : "in a word, as he was guilty of many crimes, against which damnation is denounced, and for which hell-fire is prepared, so he had some good qualities, which have caused the memory of some men, in all ages, to be celebrated; and he will be looked upon by posterity as _a brave wicked man_." oliver had the nerve to do what most men could not: he went to look upon the corpse of the beheaded king--opened the coffin with his own hand--and put his finger to the neck, where it had been severed. _he could not then doubt that charles was dead._ at the same time, when the authorized absurdities were perpetrated upon oliver's body, every effort was ineffectually made to discover that of king charles, for the purpose of paying to it the highest honors. this occurred at the time of the restoration, or about ten years after the death of charles i. in , i. e. one hundred and sixty-five years after that event, the body was accidentally discovered. to this fact, and to the examination by sir henry halford, president of the royal college of physicians, i shall refer in my next. no. xl. the passage, quoted in my last, from the athenæ oxonienses, shows plainly, that charles i. was buried in , in the same vault with the bodies of henry viii. and jane seymour; and this statement is perfectly sustained, by the remarkable discovery in , which proves lord clarendon to have been mistaken in his account, hist. reb., oxford ed., vol. vi. p. . the duke of richmond, the marquis of hertford, and the earls of southampton and lindsey, who had been of the bed chamber, and had obtained leave, to perform the last duty to the decollated king, went into the church, at windsor, to seek a place for the interment, and were greatly perplexed, by the mutilations and changes there--"at last," says clarendon, "there was a fellow of the town, who undertook to tell them the place, where he said there was a vault, in which king harry, the eighth, and queen jane seymour were interred. as near that place, as could conveniently be, they caused the grave to be made. there the king's body was laid, without any words, or other ceremonies, than the tears and sighs of the few beholders. upon the coffin was a plate of silver fixed with these words only: 'king charles, .' when the coffin was put in, the black velvet pall, that had covered it, was thrown over it, and then the earth thrown in." _such, clearly, could not have been the facts._ lord clarendon then proceeds to speak of the impossibility of finding the body ten years after, when it was the wish of charles ii. to place it, with all honor, in the chapel of henry vii., in westminster abbey. for this he accounts, by stating, that most of those present, at the _interment_, were dead or dispersed, at the restoration; and the memories of the remaining few had become so confused, that they could not designate the spot; and, after opening the ground, in several places, without success, they gave the matter up. now there can be no doubt, that the body was placed in the vault, where it was found, in , and that no _interment_ took place, in the proper sense of that word. had richmond, hertford, southampton, or lindsey been alive, or at hand, the _vault itself_, and not a spot _near the vault_, would, doubtless, have been indicated, as the resting place of king charles. wood, in the athenæ oxonienses, states, that the royal corpse was "well coffined, and all afterwards wrapped up in lead and covered with a new velvet pall." all this perfectly agrees with the account, given by sir henry halford, and certified by the prince regent, in . sir henry halford states, that george the fourth had built a mausoleum, at windsor; and, while constructing a passage, under the choir of st. george's chapel, an opening was unintentionally made into the vault of henry viii., through which, the workmen saw, not only those two coffins, which were supposed to contain the bodies of henry viii. and jane seymour, but a third, covered with a black pall. mr. herbert's account, quoted in my last number, from the athenæ, left little doubt, that this was the coffin of charles i.; notwithstanding the statements of lord clarendon, that the body was interred _near_ the vault. an examination was made, april , , in the presence of george iv., then prince regent, the duke of cumberland, count munster, the dean of windsor, benjamin charles stevenson, esq., and sir henry halford; of which the latter published an account. london, . this account is exceedingly interesting. "on removing the pall, a plain leaden coffin, with no appearance of ever having been enclosed in wood, and bearing an inscription, king charles, , in large legible characters, on a scroll of lead encircling it, immediately presented itself to view. "a square opening was then made, in the upper part of the lid, of such dimensions, as to admit a clear insight into its contents. these were an internal wooden coffin, very much decayed, and the body carefully wrapped up in cere-cloth, into the folds of which a quantity of unctuous or greasy matter, mixed with resin, as it seemed, had been melted, so as to exclude, as effectually as possible, the external air. the coffin was completely full; and from the tenacity of the cere-cloth, great difficulty was experienced, in detaching it successfully from the parts, which it enveloped. wherever the unctuous matter had insinuated itself, the separation of the cere-cloth was easy; and when it came off, a correct impression of the features, to which it had been applied, was observed in the unctuous substance. at length the whole face was disengaged from its covering. the complexion of the skin of it was dark and discolored. the forehead and temples had lost little or nothing of their muscular substance; the cartilage of the nose was gone; but the left eye, in the first moment of exposure, was open and full, though it vanished, almost immediately; and the pointed beard, so characteristic of the period of the reign of king charles, was perfect. the shape of the face was a long oval; many of the teeth remained; and the left ear, in consequence of the interposition of the unctuous matter, between it and the cere-cloth, was found entire. "it was difficult, at this moment, to withhold a declaration, that, notwithstanding its disfigurement, the countenance did bear a strong resemblance to the coins, the busts, and especially to the pictures of king charles i., by vandyke, by which it had been made familiar to us. it is true, that the minds of the spectators of this interesting sight were well prepared to receive this impression; but it is also certain, that such a facility of belief had been occasioned, by the simplicity and truth of mr. herbert's narrative, every part of which had been confirmed by the investigation, so far as it had advanced; and it will not be denied, that the shape of the face, the forehead, an eye, and the beard, are the most important features, by which resemblance is determined. "when the head had been entirely disengaged from the attachments, which confined it, it was found to be loose, and without any difficulty was taken up and held to view. it was quite wet, and gave a greenish and red tinge to paper and to linen, which touched it. the back part of the scalp was entirely perfect, and had a remarkably fresh appearance; the pores of the skin being more distinct, as they usually are, when soaked in moisture; and the tendons and ligaments of the neck were of considerable substance and firmness. the hair was thick, at the back part of the head, and in appearance, nearly black. a portion of it, which has since been cleansed and dried, is of a beautiful dark brown color. that of the beard was of a redder brown. on the back part of the head it was not more than an inch in length, and had probably been cut so short, for the convenience of the executioner, or perhaps, by the piety of friends, soon after death, in order to furnish memorials of the unhappy king." "on holding up the head to examine the place of separation from the body, the muscles of the neck had evidently retracted themselves considerably; and the fourth cervical vertebra was found to be cut through its substance transversely, leaving the surfaces of the divided portions perfectly smooth and even, an appearance, which could have been produced only by a heavy blow, inflicted with a very sharp instrument, and which furnished the last proof wanting to identify king charles, the first. after this examination of the head, which served every purpose in view, and without examining the body below the neck, it was immediately restored to its situation, the coffin was soldered up again, and the vault closed." "neither of the other coffins had any inscription upon them. the larger one, supposed, on good grounds, to contain the remains of henry viii., measured six feet ten inches in length, and had been enclosed in an elm one, of two inches in thickness; but this was decayed, and lay in small fragments. the leaden coffin appeared to have been beaten in by violence about the middle, and a considerable opening in that part of it, exposed a mere skeleton of the king. some beard remained upon the chin, but there was nothing to discriminate the personage contained in it." this is, certainly, a very interesting account. some beard still remained upon the chin of henry viii., says sir henry halford. henry viii. died jan. , . he had been dead, therefore, april , , the day of the examination, two hundred and sixty-six years. the larger coffin measured six feet ten inches. sir henry means top measure. we always allow seven feet lid, or thereabouts, for a six feet corpse. henry, in his history, vol. xi. p. , lond. , says that king henry viii. was tall. strype, in appendix a., vol. vi. p. , ecc. mem., london, , devotes twenty-four octavo pages to an account of the funeral of henry viii., with all its singular details; and, at the last, he says--"then was the vault uncovered, under the said corpse; and the corpse let down therein by the vice, with help of sixteen tal yeomen of the guard, appointed to the same." "then, when the mold was brought in, at the word, pulverem pulveri et cinerem cineri, first the lord great master, and after the lord chamberlain and al others in order, with heavy and dolorous lamentation brake their staves in shivers upon their heads and cast them after the corps into the pit. and then the gentlemen ushers, in like manner brake their rods, and threw them into the vault with exceeding sorrow and heaviness, not without grievous sighs and tears, not only of them, but of many others, as well of the meaner sort, as of the nobility, very piteous and sorrowful to behold." no. xli. my attention was arrested, a day or two since, by a memorial, referred to, in the atlas, from the owner of the land, famous, in revolutionary history, as the birth-place of liberty tree; and, especially, by a suggestion, which quadrates entirely with my notions of the fitness of things. if i were a demi-millionaire, i should delight to raise a monument, upon that consecrated spot--it should be a simple colossal shaft, of massachusetts granite, surmounted with the cap of liberty. i would not inscribe one syllable upon it--but, if any grey-headed _boston boy_--born here, within the limits of the old peninsula--should be moved, by the spirit, to write below-- hæc olim meminisse juvabit-- i should not deem that act any interference with my original purpose. what days and nights those were! ! then, the man, who has now passed on to ninety-four, was the boy of ten! how perfectly the tablet of memory retains those impressions, made, by the pressure of great events, when the wax was soft and warm! it is quite common, with the present generation, at least, to connect the origin of liberty tree with - . this is an error. it became celebrated, ten years earlier, during the disturbances in boston, on account of the stamp act, which passed march , , and was to be in force, on the first of november following. intelligence arrived, that andrew oliver, secretary of the province, was to be distributor of stamps. there was a cluster or grove of beautiful elms, in hanover square--such was the name, then given to the corner of orange, now part of washington street, and auchmuty's lane, now essex street. opposite the southwesterly corner of frog lane, now boylston street, where the market-house now stands, there was an old house, with manifold gables, and two massive chimneys, and, in the yard, in front of it, there stood a large, spreading elm. this was liberty tree. its first designation was on this wise. during the night of august , , some of the sons of liberty, as they styled themselves, assuming the appellation bestowed on them in the house of commons, by col. barre, in a moment of splendid but unpremeditated eloquence, hung, upon that tree, an effigy of mr. oliver, and a boot, with a figure of the devil peeping out, and holding the stamp act in his hand; this boot was intended as a practical pun--wretched enough--upon the name of lord bute. in the morning of the th, a great crowd collected to the spot. some of the neighbors attempted to take the effigy down. the _sons of liberty_ gave them a forcible hint, and they desisted. the lieutenant governor, as chief justice, directed the sheriff to take it down: he reconnoitred the ground, and reported that it could not be done, without peril of life. business was suspended, about town. after dark, the effigy was borne, by the mob, to a building, which was supposed to have been erected, as a stamp-office. this they destroyed, and, bearing the fragments to fort hill, where mr. oliver lived, they made a bonfire, and burnt the effigy before his door. they next drove him and his family from his house, broke the windows and fences, and stoned the lieutenant governor and sheriff, when they came to parley--all this, upon the night of august , . on the th, they destroyed the house of mr. story, register-deputy of the admiralty, and burnt the books and records of the court. they then served the house of mr. hollowell, contractor of the customs, in a similar manner, plundering and carrying away money and chattels. they next proceeded to the residence of the lieutenant governor, and destroyed every article not easily transported, doing irreparable mischief, by the destruction of many valuable manuscripts. the next day, a town meeting was held, and the citizens expressed their _detestation of the riots_--and, afterwards manifested their silent sympathy with the mob, by punishing nobody. nov. , , the day, when the stamp act came into force, the bells were muffled and tolled; the shipping displayed their colors, at half mast; the stamp act was printed, with a death's head, in the place of the stamp, and cried about the streets, under the name of the folly of england, and the ruin of america. a new political journal appeared, having for its emblem, or political phylactery, a serpent, cut into pieces, each piece bearing the initials of a colony, with the ominous motto--join or die. more effigies were hung, upon "_the large old elm_," as gordon terms it--liberty tree. they were then cut down, and escorted over town. they were brought back, and hung up again; taken down again; escorted to the neck, by an immense concourse; hanged upon the gallows tree; taken down once more; and torn into innumerable fragments. three cheers were then given, and, upon a request to that effect, every man went quietly home; and a night of unusual stillness ensued. hearing that mr. oliver intended to resume his office, he was required, through the newspaper, by an anonymous writer, to acknowledge, or deny, the truth of that report. his answer proving unsatisfactory, he received a requisition, nov. th, to appear "_tomorrow, under_ liberty tree, _to make a public resignation_." two thousand persons gathered then, beneath that tree--not the rabble, but the selectmen, the merchants, and chief inhabitants. mr. oliver requested, that the meeting might be held, in the town house; but the sons of liberty seemed resolved, that he should be _treed_--no place, under the canopy of heaven, would answer, but liberty tree. mr. oliver came; subscribed an ample declaration; and made oath to it, before richard dana, j. p. this exactitude and circumspection, on the part of the people, was not a work of supererogation: andrew oliver was a most amiable man, in private, but a most lubricious hypocrite, in public life; as appears by his famous letters, sent home by dr. franklin, in . after his declaration under the tree, he made a short speech, expressive of his "_utter detestation of the stamp act_." what a spectacle was there and then! the best and the boldest were there. samuel adams and john--jerry gridley, samuel sewall, and john hancock, _et id genus omne_ were in boston then, and the busiest men alive: their absence would have been marked--they must have been there. what an act of daring, thus to defy the monarch and his vicegerents! i paused, this very day, and gazed upon the spot, and put the steam upon my imagination, to conjure, into life and action, that little band of sterling patriots, gathered around; and that noble elm in their midst:-- "in medio ramos annosaque brachia pandit ulmus opaca, ingens." thenceforward, the sons of liberty seem to have taken the tree, under their special protection. on valentine's day, , they assembled, and passed a vote, that _it should be pruned after the best manner_. it is well, certainly, now and then, to lop off some rank, disorderly shoots of licentiousness, that will sometimes appear, upon liberty tree. it was pruned, accordingly, by a party of volunteer carpenters, under the direction of a gentleman of skill and judgment, in such matters. news of the repeal of the stamp act arrived in boston, may , . the bells rang merrily--and the cannon were unlimbered, around liberty tree, and bellowed for joy. the tree, so skilfully pruned, in february, must have presented a beautiful appearance, bourgeoning forth, in the middle of may! the nineteenth of may was appointed, for a merrymaking. at one, in the morning, the bell of the hollis street church, says a zealous writer of that day, "_began to ring_"--_sua sponte_, no doubt. the slumbers of the pastor, dr. byles, were disturbed, of course, for he was a tory, though a very pleasant tory, after all. christ church replied, with its royal peal, from the north, and _god save the king_, rang pleasantly again, in colonial ears. the universal joy was expressed, in all those unphilosophical ways, enumerated by pope, with gun, drum, trumpet, blunderbuss and thunder. liberty tree was hung with various colors. fireworks and illuminations succeeded. gov. hancock treated the people with "_a pipe of madeira_;" and the sons of liberty raised a pyramid, upon the common, with two hundred and eighty lamps. at twelve o'clock--midnight--a drum, upon the common, beat the _tattoo_; and men, women, and children retired to their homes, in the most perfect order: verily, a soberness had come over the spirit of their dreams, and method into their madness. on the evening of the twentieth of may, it was resolved to have a festival of lanterns. the inhabitants vied with each other; and, about dusk, they were seen streaming, from all quarters, to hanover square, every man and boy with his lamp or lantern. in a brief space, liberty tree was converted into a brilliant constellation. like the sparkling waters, during the burning of ucalegon's palace, described by homer, the boughs, the branches, the veriest twigs of this popular idol --------"were bright, with splendors not their own, and shone with sparkling light." it appears, by the journals of that day, from which most of these particulars are gathered, that our fathers--what inimitable, top-gallant fellows they were!--took a pleasant fancy into their heads, that these lamps would shed a brighter lustre, if the poor debtors, in jail, could join in the general joy, under liberty tree. accordingly they made up a purse and paid the debts of them all! there was a general jail delivery of the poor debtors, for very joy. well: a boston boy, of the old school, was a noble animal--how easily held by the heart-strings!--with how much difficulty, by the head or the tail! an antiquarian friend, to whom i am already under sundry obligations, has obligingly loaned me an interesting document, in connection with the subject of liberty tree; under whose shade i propose to linger a little longer. no. xlii. march , . george iii. and his ministers took it into their heads to sow the wind; and, in an almost inconceivably short time, they reaped the whirlwind. they scattered dragons' teeth, and there came up armed men. they planted the stamp act, in the colonial soil, and there sprang into life, mature and full of vigor, the liberty tree, like minerva, fully developed, and in perfect armor, from the brain of jupiter. whoever would find a clear, succinct, and impartial account of the effect of the stamp act, upon the people of new england, may resort to dodsley's annual register, page , of that memorable year. "the sun of liberty has set," wrote franklin home, "but you must light up the candles of industry and economy." the life of that act of oppression was short and stormy. march , , its miserable requiem was sung in parliament--"an event," says the annual register, of that year, page , "that caused more universal joy, throughout the british dominions, than, perhaps, any other, that can be remembered." how such a viper ever found its way into the cradle of liberty is quite a marvel--certain it is, the genius of freedom, with the power of hercules, speedily strangled it there. in america, and, especially, in boston, the joy, as i have already stated, was very great; and some there were, beyond all doubt, who were delighted, to find an apology, for going back to monarchical usages. even liberty may be, sometimes, irksome, at first, to him, who has long lived a slave; and it is no small grievance, i dare say, to such, to be deprived of the luxury of calling some one, lord and master, after the flesh. however monstrous, and even ridiculous, the idea of a king may seem to us, republicans, born in this wonderfully bracing atmosphere--there are some, who have a strong taste for _booing_ and genuflection, and the doffing of beavers, and throwing up of "greasy caps," and rending their throats, for very ecstacy, when the royal coach is coming along, bearing the heir apparent, in diapers. this taste, i suppose, like that for olives, must be acquired; it cannot be natural. may , and , , the face of the town of boston was dressed in smiles--a broad grin rather, from ear to ear, from winnisimmet to roxbury. nothing was talked of but "_a grateful people_," and "_the darling monarch_"--which amounts to this--the "_darling monarch_" had graciously desisted, from grinding their faces any longer, simply because he was convinced, that the "_grateful people_" would kick the grindstone over, and peradventure the grinder, should the "_darling_" attempt to give it another turn. under liberty tree, there was erected, during the rejoicings, an obelisk with four sides. an engraving of those four sides was made at the time, and is now, doubtless, very rare. a copy, loaned me by the friend, to whom i referred, in my last number, is lying before me. i present it, _verbatim, literatim, et punctuatim_. it is thirteen and an half inches long, and nine and an half wide. on top are these words--"a view of the obelisk erected under liberty tree in boston on the rejoicings for the repeal of the ---- stamp act ." at the bottom--"to every lover of liberty this plate is humbly dedicated by her true born sons in boston, new england." the plate presents, apparently, four obelisks, which are, in reality, the four sides of one. every side, above the base, is divided horizontally, and nearly equally, into three parts. the superior division of each contains four heads, many of which may be readily recognized, and all of which have indicating letters. the middle division of each contains ten decasyllabic lines. the inferior division of each contains a sketch, of rude execution, and rather more patriotic, than tasteful, in the design. the principal portraits are of george iii.; queen charlotte; marquis of rockingham; duke of york; gen. conway; lord townshend; colonel barré; w. pitt; lord dartmouth; charles townshend; lord george sackville; john wilkes; alderman beckford; lord camden; &c. the first side is subscribed thus: "_america in distress, apprehending the total loss of_ liberty;" and is inscribed thus: oh thou, whom next to heaven we most revere fair liberty! thou lovely goddess hear! have we not woo'd thee, won thee, held thee long, lain in thy lap and melted on thy tongue. thro' deaths and dangers rugged paths pursu'd and led thee smiling to this solitude, hid thee within our hearts' most golden cell and brav'd the powers of earth and powers of hell, goddess! we cannot part, thou must not fly, be slaves! we dare to scorn it, dare to die. beneath is the sketch--america recumbent and dejected, in the form of an indian chief, under a pine tree, the angel of liberty hovering over; the prime minister advancing with a chain, followed by one of the bishops, and others, bute clearly designated by his scotch plaid, and gaiters; over head, flying towards the indian, with the stamp act in his right claw, is the devil; of whom it is manifest our patriotic sires had a very clever conception. the second side is subscribed thus: "_she implores the aid of her patrons_;" and is inscribed thus: while clanking chains and curses shall salute thine ears remorseless g----le, and thine o b----e, to you blest patriots, we our cause submit, illustrious campden, britain's guardian, pitt. recede not, frown not, rather let us be deprived of being than of liberty, let fraud or malice blacken all our crimes, no disaffection stains these peaceful climes. oh save us, shield us from impending woes, the foes of britain only are our foes. beneath is the sketch--america, on one knee, pointing over her shoulder towards a retreating group, composed, as the chain and the plaid inform us, of the prime minister bute, and company, upon whose heads a thunder cloud is bursting. at the same time america--the indian, as before--supplicates the aid of others, whose leader is being crowned, by fame, with a laurel wreath. the enormous nose--a great help to identification--marks the earl of chatham; camden may be known by his wig; and barré by his military air. the third side is subscribed thus: "_she endures the conflict, for a short season_" and is inscribed thus: boast foul oppression, boast thy transient reign, while honest freedom struggles with her chain, but know the sons of virtue, hardy, brave, disclaim to lose thro' mean dispair to save; arrowed in thunder awfull they appear, with proud deliverance stalking in their rear, while tyrant foes their pallid fears betray, shrink from their arms, and give their vengeance way. see in the unequal war oppressors fall, the hate, contempt, and endless curse of all. beneath is the sketch--the tree of liberty, with an eagle feeding its young, in the topmost branches, and an angel advancing with an ægis. the fourth side is subscribed thus: "_and has her_ liberty _restored by the royal hand of_ george _the third_;" and is inscribed thus: our faith approv'd, our liberty restor'd, our hearts bend grateful to our sov'reign lord; hail darling monarch! by this act endear'd, our firm affections are thy best reward-- sh'd britain's self against herself divide, and hostile armies frown on either side; sh'd hosts rebellious shake our brunswick's throne, and as they dar'd thy parent dare the son. to this asylum stretch thine happy wing, and we'll contend who best shall love our king. beneath is the sketch--george the third, in armor, resembling a dutch widow, in a long-short, introducing america to the goddess of liberty, who are, apparently, just commencing the polka--at the bottom of the engraving are the words--_paul revere sculp._ our ancestors dealt rather in fact than fiction--they were no poets. gordon refers to liberty tree, i. . the fame of liberty tree spread far beyond its branches. not long before it was cut down, by the british soldiers, during the winter of - , an english gentleman, philip billes, residing at backway, near cambridge, england, died, seized of a considerable fortune, which he bequeathed to two gentlemen, not relatives, on condition, that they would faithfully execute a provision, set forth in his will, namely, that his body should be buried, under the shadow of liberty tree, in boston, new england. this curious statement was published in england, june , , and may be found in the boston evening gazette, first page, aug. , , printed by thomas & john fleet, sign of the heart and crown, cornhill. no. xliii. josiah carter died, at the close of december, . never was there a happier occasion, for citing the _quis desiderio_, &c., and i would cite that fine ode, were it not worn threadbare, like an old coverlet, by having been, immemorially, thrown over all manner of corpses, from the cobbler's to the king's. if good old dr. charles chauncy were within hearing, i would, indeed, apply to him a portion of its noble passages: multis ille bonis flebilis occidit, nulli flebilior quam tibi----. for good josiah many wept, i fancy; but none more fluently than dr. chauncy. josiah carter was sexton of the old brick. he died, in the prime of life--fifty only--a martyr to his profession--conscientious to a fault--standing all alone in the cold vault, after the last mourner had retired, and knocking gently upon the coffin lid, seeking for some little sign of animation, and begging the corpse, for heaven's sake, if it were alive, to say so, in good english. carter was one of your real _integer vitæ_ men. it is said of him, that he never actually lost his self-government, but once, in his life. he was finishing a grave, in the granary yard, and had come out of the pit, and was looking at his work, when a young, surgical sprig came up, and, with something of a mysterious air, shadowed forth a proposition, the substance of which was, that carter should sell him the corpse--cover it lightly--and aid in removing it, by night. in an instant, carter jerked the little chirurgeon into the grave--it was a deep one--and began to fill up, with all his might. the screams of the little fellow drew quite a number to the spot, and he was speedily rescued. when interrogated, years afterwards, as to his real intentions, at the time, carter always became solemnized; and said he considered the preservation of that young doctor--a particular providence. carter had a strong aversion to unburying--so have i--especially a hatchet. i have a rooted hatred of slavery; and i hope our friends, on the sunny side of mason's and dixon's line, will not censure me, for digging up the graves of the past, and exposing unsightly relics, while i solicit the world's attention to the following literary _bijoux_. to be sold, a young negro fellow, fit for country or other business.--will be sold to the highest bidder, a very good gold watch, a negro boy, &c.--cheap, for cash, a negro man, and woman, and two children.--a very likely negro wench, about years of age.--a likely negro woman, about , cheap for cash.--a likely negro boy, about .--sold only for want of employ, a healthy, tractable negro girl, about years of age.--to be sold, for want of employ, a strong, hearty negro fellow, about years of age.--ran away, a negro, named dick, a well-looking, well-shaped fellow, right negro, little on the yellow, &c.--a likely negro woman, about years old, remarkable for honesty and good temper.--grant webster has for sale new and second hand chaises, rum, wines, and male and female negroes.--at auction, a negro woman that is used to most sorts of house business.--a likely, healthy negro man, a good cook, and can drive a carriage.--ran away, a negro man, named prince, a tall, straight fellow; he is about years old, talks pretty good english; his design was to get off in some vessel, so as to go to england, under the notion, if he could get there, he should be free, &c.--ten dollars reward: ran away, negro primus, five feet ten inches high, long limbs, very long finger nails, &c.--to be sold, for no fault, a negro man, of good temper.--a valuable negro man.--ran away, my negro, cromarte, commonly called crum, &c., &c.; whoever will return said runaway to me, or secure him in some public jail, &c.--the cash will be given for a negro boy of good temper.--a fine negro male child, to be given away.--to be sold, a spanish indian woman, about years old, also a negro child, about two years old. to be sold, a strong, hearty negro girl, and her son, about a week old.--ran away, my negro man, samson; when he speaks has a leering look under his eyes; whoever will return him, or secure him in any of the jails, shall receive ten dollars reward. for sale, a likely negro man; has had the smallpox.--a likely negro boy, large for his age, about .--to be sold, very reasonably, a likely negro woman, about or ' years of age.--to be sold or hired, for a number of years, a strong, healthy, honest, negro girl, about years of age. ah, my dear, indignant reader, i marvel not, that you are grieved and shocked, that man should dare, directly under the eye of god, to offer his fellow for sale, as he would offer a side of mutton, or a slaughtered hog--that he should offer to sell him, from head to heel, liver and lights, and lungs, and heart, and bone, and muscle, and presume to convey over, to the buyer, the very will of the poor black man, for years, and for aye; so that the miserable creature should never draw in one single breath of freedom, but breathe the breath of a slave forever and ever. this is very damnable indeed--very. you read the advertisements, which i have paraded before you, with a sentiment of disgust towards the men of the south--_nimium ne crede colori_. these are northern negroes! these are northern advertisements! --------mutato nomine, de te fabula narratur--------. every one of these slaves was owned in boston: every one of these advertisements was published in the boston gazette, and the two last on december , . they are taken from one only of the public journals, and are a very flemish sample of the whole cloth, which may be examined by him, who has leisure to turn over the several papers, then published here. there is one, however, so awfully ridiculous, when we consider the profession of the deceased owner, and the place of sale, and which, in these connections, presents such an example of _sacra, commixta profanis_, that i must give the advertisement without defalcation. john moorhead, the first minister of bury, afterwards berry street church, died dec. , . about a year after, his effects were sold, and the following advertisement appears, in the boston gazette, jan. , : "to be sold by public auction, on thursday next, at ten o'clock in the forenoon, all the household furniture, belonging to the estate of the rev. mr. john moorhead, deceased, consisting of tables, chairs, looking glasses, feather beds, bedsteads and bedding, pewter, brass, sundry pieces of plate, &c., &c. a valuable collection of books--also a likely negro lad--the sale to be at the house in auchmuty's lane, south end, not far from liberty tree."--moses and the prophets! _a human being to be sold as a_ slave, _not far from_ liberty tree, in ! let me be clearly comprehended. two wrongs cannot, like two negatives, neutralize each other. it is true, there was slavery in massachusetts, and probably more of it, than is supposed to have existed, by many of the present generation. free negroes were not numerous, in boston, in those years. in the boston gazette of jan. , , it is stated, that whites and blacks were buried in the town in ; and whites and blacks in . such was the proportion then. the energy of our northern constitution has exorcised the evil spirit of slavery. common sense and the grace of god put it into the minds and hearts of our fathers, when the accursed _bohun upas_ was a sapling, to pull it up, by the roots. it follows not, therefore, that the people of the south are entitled to be treated by us, their brethren, like _outside barbarians_, because they do not cast it out from their midst, as promptly, and as easily, now that it has stricken down its roots into the bowels of the earth, and become a colossus, and overshadowed the land. slavery, being the abomination that it is, in the abstract, and in the relative, we may well regret, that it ever defiled our peninsula; especially that a slave market, for the sale of one slave only, ever existed, "_not far from liberty tree_." in sober truth, we are not quite justified, for railing at the south, as we have done. the sins of our dear, old fathers are still so comparatively recent, in regard to slavery, that i am absolutely afraid to fire canister and grape, among the group of offenders, lest i should disturb the ashes of my ancestors. neither may we forget, that we, of the north, consented, aided and abetted, constitutionally, in the confirmation of slavery. some of the most furious of the abolitionists, in this fair city, are _descendants in the right line, from boston slaveholders_--their fathers did not recognize the sinfulness of holding slaves! the people of the south are entitled to civility, from the people of the north, because they are citizens of one common country; and, if there is one village, town, or city of these united states, that, more than any and all others, is under solemn obligations to cherish a sentiment of grateful and affectionate respect for the south, it is the city of boston. i propose to refresh the reader's recollection, in my next. no. xliv. _delenda est carthago--abolendum est servitium._--no doubt of it; slavery must be buried--decently, however. i cannot endure rudeness and violence, at a funeral. john cades, in charter street, lost his place, in , for letting old goody smith go by the run. the _naufragium_ of erasmus, was nothing at all, compared with that of the old lady's coffin. our southern confederates are entitled to _civility_, because they are men and brethren; and they are entitled to _kindness and courtesy from us, of boston_, because we owe them a debt of gratitude, which it would be shameful to forget. since we, of the north, have presumed to be _undertakers_ upon this occasion, let us do the thing "_decenter et ornate_." besides, our friends of the south are notoriously testy and hot-headed: they are, geographically, children of the sun. john smith's description of the massachusetts indians, in , richmond ed., ii. , is truly applicable to the southern people, "_very kind, but, in their fury, no less valiant_." i am no more inclined to uphold the south, in the continued practice of a moral wrong, because they gave us bread when we were hungry, as they certainly did, than was sir matthew hale, to decide favorably for the suitor, who sent him the fat buck. _nullum simile quatuor pedibus currit_--the south, when they bestowed their kindness upon us, during the operation of the _boston port bill_, had no possible favor to ask, in return. this famous port bill, which operated like _guano_ upon liberty tree, and caused it to send forth a multitude of new and vigorous shoots, was an act of revenge and coercion, passed march , , by the british parliament. no government was ever so _penny wise_ and _pound foolish_, as that of great britain, in -' . they actually sacrificed thirteen fine, flourishing colonies for _three pence_! in the east india company, suffering from the bad effects of the smuggling trade, in the colonies, all taxation having been withdrawn, by great britain, excepting on tea, proposed, for the purpose of quieting the strife, to sell their tea, free of all duties, in the colonies, and that sixpence a pound should be retained by the government, on exportation. but the government insisted upon _three pence_ worth of dignity; in other words, for the honor of the crown, they resolved, that the colonists _should pay three pence_ a pound, import duty. this was a very poor bargain--a _crown_ for _three pence_! well; i have no room for detail--the tea came; some of it went back again; and the balance was tossed into the sea. it was not suffered to be landed, at philadelphia and new york. seventeen chests, brought to new york, on private account, says gordon, vol. i. page , were thrown overboard, nov. , , and combustibles were prepared to burn the ships, if they came up from the hook. dec. , , three hundred and twenty-four chests of tea were broken open, on board the ships, in boston, and their contents thrown into the salt water, by a "number of persons," says gordon, vol. i. page , "chiefly masters of vessels and shipbuilders from the north end of the town," dressed as indians. in consequence of this, the _port bill_ was passed. the object of this bill was to beggar--commercially to neutralize or nullify--the town of boston, by shutting the port, and cutting off all import and export, by sea, until full compensation should be made, for the tea destroyed, and to the officers of the revenue, and others, who had suffered, by the riots, in the years and . such was the _port bill_, whose destructive operation was directed, upon the port of boston alone, under a fatal misunderstanding of the british government, in relation to the real unanimity of the american people. it is no easy matter, to describe the effect of this act of folly and injustice. the whole country seemed to be affected, with a sort of political _neuralgia_; and the attack upon boston, like a wound upon some principal nerve, convulsed the whole fabric. the colonies resembled a band of brothers--"born for affliction:" a blow was no sooner aimed at one, than the remaining twelve rushed to the rescue, each one interposing an ægis. in no part of the country, were there more dignified, or more touching, or more substantial testimonies of sympathy manifested, for the people of boston, than in the southern states; and especially in virginia, maryland, and both the carolinas. the _port bill_ came into force, june , . the marylanders of annapolis, on the th of may preceding, assembled, and resolved, that boston was "_suffering in the common cause of america_." on the th, the magistrates, and other inhabitants of queen anne's county resolved, in full meeting, that they would "_make known, as speedily as possible, their sentiments to their distressed brethren of boston, and that they looked upon the cause of boston to be the common cause of america_." the house of burgesses, in virginia, appointed the day, when the boston port bill came into operation, as a day of fasting and prayer, throughout the ancient dominion. a published letter, from kent county, maryland, dated june , , says--"the people of boston need not be afraid of being starved into compliance; if they will only give a short notice, they may make their town the granary of america." june , .--twenty-four days after the port bill went into operation, a public meeting was held at charleston, s. c. the moving spirits were the trapiers and the elliots, the horries and the clarksons, the gadsdens and the pinkneys of that day; and resolutions were passed, full of brotherly love and sympathy, for the inhabitants of boston. "baltimore, july th, .--a vessel hath sailed from the eastern shore of this province, with a cargo of provisions as a free gift to our besieged brethren of boston. the inhabitants of all the counties of virginia and maryland are subscribing, with great liberality, for the relief of the distressed towns of boston and charlestown. the inhabitants of alexandria, we hear, in a few hours, subscribed £ , for that noble purpose. subscriptions are opened in this town, for the support and animation of boston, under their present great conflict, for the common freedom of us all. a vessel is now loading with provisions, as a testimony of the affection of this people towards their persecuted brethren." "salem, aug. , .--yesterday arrived at marblehead, capt. perkins, from baltimore, with bushels of corn, barrels of rye meal, and barrels of bread, for the benefit of the poor of boston, and with bushels of corn from annapolis, for the same benevolent purpose." "new york, aug. , .--saturday last, capt. dickerson arrived here, and brought barrels of rye from south carolina, to be sold, and proceeds remitted to boston, a present to the sufferers; a still larger cargo is to be shipped for the like benevolent purpose." "newport, r. i.--capt. bull, from wilmington, north carolina, arrived here last tuesday, with a load of provisions for the poor of boston; to sail again for salem." these testimonies of a kind and brotherly spirit, came from all quarters of the country. these illustrations might be multiplied to any extent. i pass by the manifestations of the most cordial sympathy from other colonies, and the contributions from the towns and villages around us--my business lies, at present with the south--and my object is to remind some of the more rampant and furious of my abolition friends, who are of yesterday, that the people of the south, however hasty they may be, living under the sun's fiercer rays, and however excited, when a northern man, however respectable, comes to take up his quarters in their midst, and gather evidence against them, under their very noses--are not precisely _outside barbarians_. let the work of abolition go forward, in a dignified and decent spirit. let us argue; and, so far as we rightfully may, let us legislate. let us bring the whole world's sympathy up to the work of emancipation. but, let us not revile and vituperate those, who are, to all intents and purposes, our brethren, as certainly as if they lived just over the roxbury line, instead of mason's and dixon's. such harsh and unmitigated scoffing and abuse, as we too often witness, are equally ungracious, ungentlemanly, and ungrateful. there is something strangely grotesque, to be sure, in the idea of calling a state, in which there are more slaves than freemen, the _land of liberty_. our massachusetts ancestors had a very good _theoretical_ conception of its inconsistency and absurdity, as early as ; when the first glimmerings of independence began to come over the spirit of their dreams. in that year, the massachusetts negroes caught the liberty fever, and presented a petition to have their fetters knocked off. may , , the inhabitants of pembroke addressed a respectfully suggestive letter to their representative in the general court, john turner; the last paragraph of which is well worthy of republication. the entire letter may be found in the boston gazette of june , --"we think the negro petition reasonable--agreeable to natural justice and the precepts of the gospel; and therefore advise that, in concurrence with the other worthy members of the assembly, you endeavor to find a way, in which they may be freed from slavery, without wrong to their present masters, or injury to themselves--and that a total abolition of slavery may in due time take place. then we trust we may with humble confidence, look up to the great arbiter of heaven and earth, expecting that he will in his own due time, look upon our affliction, and in the way of his providence, deliver us from the insults, the grievances, and impositions we so justly complain of." this, as the reader will remember, had reference to slavery in massachusetts. no. xlv. in , and in the month of may, something, in my line, caused me to visit the first ex-president adams, at the old mansion in quincy. by some persons, he was accounted a cold man; and his son, john quincy, even a colder man: yet neither was cold, unless in the sense, in which mount hecla is cold--belted in everlasting ice, though liable, occasionally, to violent eruptions of a fiery character. as i was taking my leave, being about to remove into a distant state, my daughter, between five and six years old, stepped timidly towards mr. adams, and placing her little hand upon his, and looking upon his venerable features, said to him--"_sir, you are so old, and i am going away so far, that i do not think i shall ever see you again--will you let me kiss you before i go?_" his brow was suddenly overcast--the spirit became gently solemnized--"_certainly, my child_" said he, "_if you desire to kiss a very old man, whom it is quite likely you will never see again_."--he bowed his aged form, and the child, rising on tiptoe, impressed a kiss upon his brow. i would give a great deal more than i can afford, for a fair sketch of that old man's face, as he resumed his position--i see it now, with the eye of a swedenborgian. his features were slightly flushed, but not discomposed at all; tears filled his eyes; and, if one word must suffice to express all that i saw, that word is _benevolence_--that same benevolence, which taught him, on the day of his death, july , , when asked if he knew what day it was, to exclaim--"_yes, it is the glorious fourth of july--god bless it--god bless you all_." at the time of the little occurrence, which i have related, mr. adams was eighty-eight years old. i ventured to say, that i wished we could give him the years of methuselah--to which he replied, with a faint smile,--"_my friend, you could not wish me a greater curse_."--as we wax older and grayer, this expression, which, in the common phrase, is _greek_ to the young and uninitiated, becomes sufficiently translated into every man's vernacular. mr. adams was born october , , and had therefore attained his ninety-first year, when he died. nothing like the highest ancient standard of longevity is attained, in modern times. nine hundred, sixty, and nine years, is certainly a long life-time. when baby lamech was born, his father was a young fellow of one hundred and eighty-seven. weary work it must have been, waiting so long, for one's inheritance! the records of modern longevity will appear, nevertheless, somewhat surprising, to those, who have given but little attention to the subject. the celebrated albert de haller, and there can be no higher authority, enumerated eleven hundred and eleven cases of individuals, who had lived from to . his classification is as follows:-- from to " to " to " to " to of . the oldest was henry jenkins, of yorkshire, who died in . thomas parr, of wilmington, in shropshire, died in , aged . he was a poor yeoman, and married his first wife, when he was in his th year, or, as some say, his th, and had two children. he was brought to court, by the earl of arundel, in the reign of charles i., and died, as it was supposed, in consequence of change of diet. his body was examined by dr. harvey, who thought he might have lived much longer, had he adhered to his simple habits. being rudely asked, before the king, what more he had done, in his long life, than other old men, he replied--"_at the age of , i did penance in alderbury church, for an illegitimate child_." when he was , he married a second wife, by whom he had a child. sharon turner, in his sacred history of the world, vol. iii. ch. , says, in a note, that parr's son (by the second wife, the issue by the first died early) lived to the age of --his grandson to that of --his great-grandson to that of ; and two other grandsons, who died in and , to that of . parr's was a much longer life than reuben's, judah's, issachar's, abner's, simeon's, dan's, zebulon's, levi's, or naphthali's. dr. harvey's account of the post mortem examination is extremely interesting. the quaint lines of taylor, the water poet, as he was styled, i cannot omit:-- "good wholesome labor was his exercise, down with the lamb, and with the lark would rise; in mire and toiling sweat he spent the day, and to his team he whistled time away: the cock his night-clock, and till day was done, his watch and chief sundial was the sun. he was of old pythagoras' opinion, that green cheese was most wholesome with an onion; coarse meslin bread, and for his daily swig, milk, buttermilk, and water, whey and whig. sometimes metheglin, and by fortune happy, he sometimes sipp'd a cup of ale most nappy, cider or perry, when he did repair t'a whitsun ale, wake, wedding or a fair; or, when in christmas time he was a guest at his good landlord's house, among the rest. else he had very little time to waste, or at the alehouse huff-cap ale to taste. his physic was good butter, which the soil of salop yields, more sweet than candy oil. and garlic he esteemed, above the rate of venice treacle or best mithridate. he entertained no gout, no ache he felt, the air was good and temperate, where he dwelt; while mavises and sweet-tongued nightingales did sing him roundelays and madrigals. thus, living within bounds of nature's laws of his long, lasting life may be some cause. from head to heel, his body had all over a quickset, thickset, nat'ral, hairy cover." isaac lived to the age of , or five years longer than his father abraham. i now propose to enter one or more well-known old stagers, of modern times, who will beat isaac, by five lengths. mr. easton, of salisbury, england, a respectable bookseller, and quoted, as good authority by turner, prepared a more extensive list than haller, of persons, who had died aged from to . his work was entitled _human longevity_-- of his cases occurred, within the british isles, and between the years and . he sets down three between and , giving their names and other particulars. mr. whitehurst's tables contain several cases, not in mr. easton's work, from years to . some twenty other cases are stated, by turner, from to . i refer, historically, to the case of jonathan hartop, not because of the very great age he attained, but for other reasons of interest: " .--died, jonathan hartop, aged one hundred and thirty-eight, of the village of aldborough, yorkshire. he could read to the last, without spectacles, and play at cribbage, with the most perfect recollection. he remembered charles ii., and once travelled to london, with the facetious killegrew. he ate but little; his only beverage was milk. he had been married five times. mr. hartop lent milton fifty pounds, which the bard returned, with honor, though not without much difficulty. mr. hartop would have declined receiving it; but the pride of the poet was equal to his genius, and he sent the money with an angry letter, which was found, among the curious possessions of that venerable old man." on the th of july, , i visited dr. ezra green, at his residence, in dover, n. h. he showed me a couple of letters, which he had received, a short time before, from daniel webster and thomas h. benton, congratulating him, on having completed his one hundredth year, on the th of the preceding june, the anniversary of the battle of bunker's hill, and remarked, that those gentlemen had not regarded the difference, between the old style and the new. he told me, that in , he had been a surgeon, in the ranger, with john paul jones. upon my taking out my glasses, to read a passage in a pamphlet, to which he called my attention, he told me he had never used spectacles, nor felt the need of any such assistance, in reading. dr. green died, in . he graduated, at harvard, in . at the time of his death, every other member of his own class, numbering fifty-four, was dead. previously to , two thousand and seventy-five individuals are named, upon the catalogue. they were all dead at the time of his decease, though he died so recently, as . yet, from the year, when he graduated, to , a period of twenty years, of seven hundred and seventy-three graduates, fifteen only appear, upon the catalogue of , without the fatal star. one of the fifteen, harrison gray otis, has recently died, leaving three survivors only, in his class of , asa andrews, j. s. boies, and jonathan ewins. another of the fifteen has also recently died, being the oldest graduate, judge timothy farrar, of the class of . the oldest living graduate of harvard is james lovell, of the class of . i send my communication to the press, as speedily as possible, lest he also should be off, before i can publish. no. xlvi. a few days ago, i saw, in the hands of the artist, mr. alvan clarke, a sketch, nearly completed, from stuart's painting of john adams, in his very old age. this sketch is to be engraved, as an accompaniment of the works of mr. adams, about to be published, by little & brown. i scarcely know what to say of this sketch of mr. adams. his fine old face, such as it was in the flesh, and at the very last of his long and illustrious career, is fixed in my memory--rivetted there--as firmly as his name is bolted, upon the loftiest column of our national history. never have i seen a more perfect fac simile of man, without the aid of relief--it is the resurrection and the life. if i am at a loss what to say of the sketch, i am still farther at fault, what to say of the artist. like some of those heavenly bodies, whose contemplation occupies no little portion of his time, it is not always the easiest thing in the world, to know in what part of his orbit he may be found; if i desire to obtain a portrait, or a miniature, or a sketch, he can scarcely devote his time to it, he is so very busy, in contriving some new improvement, for his already celebrated rifle; or if it is a patent muzzled rifle that i want, he is quite likely to be occupied, in the manufacture of a telescope. be all these matters as they may, i can vouch for it, after years of experience, alvan clarke is a very clever fellow, _anglice et americanice_; and this sketch of mr. adams does him honor, as an artist. it was in the year , i believe, that a young lady sent me her album, with a request, that i, of all people in the world, would occupy one of its pages. well, i felt, that after all, it was quite in my line, for i had always looked upon a young lady's album, as a kind of cemetery, for the burial of anybody's bantlings, and i began to read the inscriptions, upon such as reposed in this place, appointed for the still-born. i was a little startled, i confess, at my first glance, upon the autograph of the late bishop griswold, appended to some very respectable verses. my attention was next drawn to some lines, over the name of daniel webster, _manu propria_. i forget them now, but i remember, that the american eagle was invoked for the occasion, and flapped its wings, through one or more of the stanzas. next came an article in strong, sensible prose, from john adams, written by an amanuensis, but signed with his own hand. such a hand--the "_manu deficiente_" of tibullus. the letters, formed by the failing, trembling fingers, resembled the forked lightning. a solemnizing and impressive autograph it was: and, under the impulse of the moment, i had the audacity to spoil three pages of this consecrated album, by appending to this venerable name the following lines:-- high over alps, in dauphine, there lies a lonely spot, so wild, that ages rolled away, and man had claimed it not: for ages there, the tiger's yell bay'd the hoarse torrent as it fell. amid the dark, sequestered glade, no more the brute shall roam; for man, unsocial man, hath made that wilderness his home: and convent bell, with notes forlorn, is heard, at midnight, eve, and morn. for now, amid the grand chartreuse, carthusian monks reside; whose lives are passed, from man recluse, in scourging human pride; in matins, vespers, aves, creeds, with crosses, masses, prayers, and beads. when hither men of curious mood, or pilgrims, bend their way, to view this alpine solitude, or, heav'nward bent, to pray, saint bruno's monks their album bring, inscrib'd by poet, priest, and king. since pilgrim first, with holy tears, inscrib'd the tablet fair, on time's dark flood, some thousand years, have pass'd like billows there. what countless names its pages blot, by country, kindred, long forgot! here chaste conceits and thoughts divine unclaim'd, and nameless, stand; which, like the grecian's waving line, betray some master's hand. and here saint bruno's monks display, with pride, the classic lines of gray. while pilgrim ponders o'er the name, he feels his bosom glow; and counts it nothing less than fame, to write his own below. so, in this album, fain would i, beneath a name, that cannot die. thrice happy book! no tablet bears a nobler name than thine; still followed by a nation's pray'rs, through ling'ring life's decline. the wav'ring stylus scarce obey'd the hand, that once an empire sway'd! not thus, among the patriot band, that name enroll'd we see-- no falt'ring tongue, no trembling hand proclaim'd an empire free!-- lady, retrace those lines, and tell, if, in thy heart, no sadness dwell? and, in those fainting, struggling lines, oh, see'st thou naught sublime! no tott'ring pile, that half inclines! no mighty wreck of time! sighs not thy gentle heart to save the sage, the patriot, from the grave! if thus, oh then recall that sigh, unholy 'tis, and vain; for saints and sages never die, but sleep, to rise again. life is a lengthened day, at best, and in the grave tir'd trav'llers rest; till, with his trump, to wake the dead, th' appointed angel flies; then heav'n's bright album shall be spread, and all who sleep, shall rise; the blest to zion's hill repair, and write their names immortal there. i had as much pleasure, in composing these lines, as i ever had, in composing the limbs or the features of a corpse; and now that they are fairly laid out, the reader may bury them in oblivion, as soon as he pleases. the lines of gray, referred to, in the sixth stanza, may be found in the collections of his works, and were written in the album of the chartreuse, in . my recollections of john adams, are very perfect, and preëminently pleasant. i knew nothing of him personally, of course, in the days of his power. i had nothing to ask at his hands, but the permission to sit and listen. how vast and how various his learning!--"qui sermo! quæ præcepta! quanta notitia antiquitatis!... omnia memoria tenebat, non domestica solum, sed etiam externa bella: cujus sermone ita tum cupide fruebar, quasi jam divinarem id, quod evenit, illo extincto, fore, unde discerem, neminem." surpassingly delightful were the outpourings, till some thoughtless wight, by an ill-timed allusion, opened the fountain of bitter waters--then, history, literature, the arts, all were buried _in gurgite vasto_, giving place to jefferson's injustice, the mazzei letters, and callender's prospect before us--_quantum mutatus ab illo_! how forcibly the dead are quickened, upon the retina of memory, by the exhibition of some well known and personally associated article--the little hat of napoleon--the mantle of cæsar--"_you all do know this mantle_!" i have just now drawn, from my treasury, an autograph of john adams, bearing date, jan. , , and a lock of strong hair, cut from his venerable brow, the day before. in october of that year, he was eighty-nine years of age; and that lock of hair is a dark iron gray. i have also taken from its casket a silver pen, and small portable inkstand attached, which also were his. the contemplation of these things--i came honestly by them--seems almost to raise that venerable form before me. i can almost hear him repeat those memorable words--"the union is our rock of safety as well as our pledge of grandeur." no. xlvii. i am rather surprised, to find how little is known, among the rising generation, about slavery, in the old bay state. one might delve for a twelve month, and not gather together the half of all, that is condensed, in dr. belknap's replies to judge tucker's inquiries, mass. h. c., iv. . i never was a sexton in the berry street church, but i knew dr. jeremy belknap well, in , when he lived on the southeasterly side of lincoln street, near essex. he died the following year. his garden was overrun with spiders. i had a great veneration for the doctor--he gave me a copy of his foresters--and, to repay a small part of the debt, i was proceeding, one summer morning, with a strong arm, to demolish the spiders, when he pleasantly called to me to desist, saying, that he preferred them to the flies. slavery was here--negro slavery--at a very early day. josselyn speaks of three slaves, in the family of maverick, on noddle's island, oct. , , m. h. c., xxiii. . these were probably brought directly from africa. in , the general court of massachusetts ordered mr. williams, at pascataqua, over which massachusetts exercised jurisdiction, to send the negro he had of captain smith, to them, that he might be sent home; as smith had confessed, that the negroes he brought were stolen from guinea. ibid. iv. . in the same year, a law was passed, against the traffic in slaves, those excepted, who were taken in war, or cast into servitude, for crime. ibid. the slave trade was carried on, in massachusetts, to a very small extent. "in ," says dr. belknap, "a duty of £ was laid on every negro imported." he adds--"by the inquiries which i have made of our oldest merchants, now living, i cannot find that more than three ships in a year, belonging to this port, were ever employed in the african trade. the rum distilled here, was the mainspring of this traffic. very few whole cargoes ever came to this port. one gentleman says he remembers two or three. i remember one, between thirty and forty years ago, which consisted almost wholly of children. at rhode island the rum distillery and the african trade were prosecuted to a greater extent than in boston; and i believe no other seaport, in massachusetts, had any concern in the slave business." ibid. . dr. belknap drew up his answers to judge tucker's inquiries, april , : "_between thirty and forty years ago_," therefore, was between and . dr. belknap remembered the arrival in boston of a "_whole cargo_" of slaves, "_almost wholly children_," between the years and ! if we have ever had an accurate and careful narrator of matters of fact, in new england, that man was jeremy belknap. the last of these years, , was the memorable year of the stamp act, and liberty tree! let us hope the arrival was nearer to . "about the time of the stamp act," says dr. belknap, "this trade began to decline, and, in , it was prohibited by law. this could not have been done previous to the revolution, as the governors sent hither from england, it is said, were instructed not to consent to any acts made for that purpose." ibid. . in , a bill was brought into the house of representatives, "to prevent the unnatural and unwarrantable custom of enslaving mankind, and the importation of slaves into the province:" but it came to nothing. "had it passed both houses in any form whatever," says dr. b., ibid. page , "gov. bernard would not have consented to it." one scarcely knows which most to admire, the fury against the south, of gentlemen, whose ancestors imported cargoes of slaves, or bought and sold them, at retail, or the righteous indignation of great britain, who instructed her colonial governors, to veto every attempt of the massachusetts legislature, to abolish the traffic in human flesh. a disposition existed, at an earlier period, to abolish the brutal traffic. in a letter to the rev. dr. freeman from timothy pickering, which may found in m. h. c., xviii. , he refers to the following transcript, from the records of the selectmen of boston: " , may . the representatives are desired to promote the encouraging the bringing of white servants, and to put a period to negroes being slaves." "a few only of our merchants," says dr. b., m. h. c., iv. , "were engaged in this traffic. it was never supported by popular opinion. a degree of infamy was attached to the characters of those, who were employed in it. several of them, in their last hours, bitterly lamented their concern in it." chief justice samuel sewall wrote a pamphlet against it. many, says dr. b., who were wholly opposed to the traffic, would yet buy a slave, when brought here, on the ground that it was better for him to be brought up in a christian land! for this, abraham and the patriarchs were vouched in, of course, as supporters. our winters were unfavorable to unacclimated negroes; white laborers were therefore preferred to black. "_negro children_," says dr. b., ibid. , "_were reckoned an incumbrance in a family; and, when weaned, were given away like puppies. they have been publicly advertised in the newspapers, to be given away_." in answer to the question, how slavery had been abolished in massachusetts? dr. belknap answered--"_by public opinion_." he considers, that slavery came to an end, in our commonwealth, in . after , there were, certainly, very few, who had the brass to offer negroes, for sale, openly, in the newspapers of boston. public opinion, as dr. belknap says, was accomplishing this work: and every calm, impartial person may opine for himself, how patiently we of the north should have endured, at that time, even a modicum of the galling abuse, of which such a _profluvium_ is daily administered, to the people of the south. it seems to me, that such rough treatment would have been more likely to addle, than to hatch the ovum of public opinion in . dr. belknap's account, ibid. , is very clear. he says--"the present constitution of massachusetts was established in . the first article of the declaration of rights asserts that '_all men are born free and equal_.' this was inserted, not merely as a moral or political truth, but with a particular view to establish the liberation of the negroes, on a general principle; and so it was understood, by the people at large; but some doubted whether this were sufficient. many of the blacks, taking advantage of the _public opinion_, and of this general assertion, in the bill of rights, asked their freedom and obtained it. others took it without leave. some of the aged and infirm thought it most prudent to continue in the families, where they had been well used, and experience has proved that they acted right. in , at the court in worcester county, an indictment was found against a white man for assaulting, beating, and imprisoning a black. he was tried at the supreme judicial court, in . his defence was that the black was his slave, and that the beating, &c., was the necessary restraint and correction of the master. this was answered by citing the aforesaid clause in the declaration of rights. the judge and jury were of opinion that he had no right to beat or imprison the negro. he was found guilty and fined forty shillings. this decision was a mortal wound to slavery in massachusetts." the reader will perceive, that a distinction was maintained, between the _slave trade_, eo nomine, and the _holding of slaves_, inseparably connected as it was, with the incidents of sale and transfer from man to man, in towns and villages. he, who was engaged in the _trade_, so called, was supposed _per se_ or _per alium_ to _steal_ the slaves; but, contrary to the proverb, the _receiver_ was, in this case, not accounted so bad as the _thief_! the prohibition of the _traffic_, in , grew out of public indignation, produced by the act of one avery, from connecticut, who decoyed three black men on board his vessel, under pretence of employing them; and while they were at work below, proceeded to sea, having previously cleared for martinico. the knowledge of this outrage produced a great sensation. gov. hancock, and m. l'etombe, the french consul, wrote in favor of the kidnapped negroes, to all the west india islands. a petition was presented to the legislature, from the members of the association of the boston clergy; another from the blacks; and one, at that very time, from the quakers, was lying on the table, for an act against equipping and insuring vessels, engaged in the traffic, and against kidnappers. such an act was passed march , . the poor negroes, carried off by that arch villain, avery, were offered for sale, in the island of st. bartholomew. they told their story publicly--_magna est veritas_--the governor heard and believed it--the sale was forbidden. an inhabitant of the island--a mr. atherton, of blessed memory--became their protector, and gave bonds for their good behavior, for six months. letters, confirming their story, arrived. they were sent on their way home rejoicing, and arrived in boston, on the following th day of july. in , according to dr. belknap, ibid. , there was black to every whites in massachusetts; in , to every ; in , to every . the whole number, in the latter year, blacks, , whites. it appears, by a census, taken by order of government, in the last month of , and the first month of , that there were then in the province of massachusetts bay negro slaves of and over years of age. of these, belonged to boston. this table may be found in m. h. c., xiii. . no. xlviii. of all sorts of affectation the affectation of happiness is the most universal. how many, whose domestic relations are full of trouble, are, abroad, apparently, the happiest of mortals. how many, after laying down the severest sumptuary laws, for their domestics, on the subject of _sugar_ and _butter_, go forth, in all their personal finery, to inquire the prices of articles, which they have no means to purchase, and return, comforted by the assurance, that they have the reputation of fashion and wealth, with those, at least, who have, so deferentially, displayed their diamonds and pearls! who would not be thought wealthy, and wise, and witty, if he could! happiness is every man's _cynosure_, when he embarks upon the ocean of life. no man would willingly be thought so very unskilful, as that ill-starred palinurus, who made the shores of norway, on a voyage to the coast of africa. whether wealth, or fame, or fashion, or pleasure be the principal object of pursuit, no one is willing to be accounted a disappointed man, after the application of his best energies, for years. the man of wealth--the man of ambition, for example, are desirous of being accounted happy. it would certainly be exceedingly annoying to both, to be convinced, that they were believed, by mankind, to be otherwise. their condition is rendered tolerable, only by the conviction, that thousands suppose them happy, and covet their condition accordingly. there is something particularly agreeable, in being envied, of course. now, it is the common law of man's nature--a law, that executes itself--that _possession makes him poor_ as horace says, sat. i. , . --------"nemo, quam sibi sortem, seu ratio dederit, seu fors objecerit illi, contentus vivat."-------- all experience has demonstrated, that happiness is not to be bought, and that what there is of it, in this present life, is a home-made article, which every one produces for himself, in the workshop of his own bosom. it no more consists, in the accumulation of wealth, than in snuffing up the east wind. the poor believe the rich to be happy--they become rich, and find they were mistaken. but they keep the secret, and affect to be happy, nevertheless. seneca looked upon the devotion of time and talent to the acquirement of money, beyond the measure of a man's reasonable wants, with profound contempt. he called such, as gave themselves up to the unvarying pursuit of wealth, _short lived_; meaning that the hours and years, so employed, were carved out of the estate of a man's life, and utterly thrown away. there is a fine passage, in ch. , of seneca's book, _de brevitate vitæ_. "misserrimam ergo necesse est, non tantum brevissimam, vitam eorum esse, qui magno parant labore, quod majore possideant: operose assequuntur quæ volunt, anxii tenent quæ assecuti sunt. nulla interim nunquam amplius redituri temporis est ratio"--it is clear, therefore, that the life must be very miserable, and very brief, of those, who get their gains with great labor, and hold on to their gettings with greater--who obtain the object of their wishes, with much difficulty, and are everlastingly anxious for the safe keeping of their treasures. they seem to have no true estimate of those hours, thus wasted, which never can return. in one of his admirable letters to lucilius, the eightieth, on the subject of poverty, he says--"si vis scire quam nihil in illa mali sit, compara inter se pauperum et divitum vultus. sæpius pauper et fidelius ridet; nulla sollicitudo in alto est; etiamsi qua incidit cura, velut nubes levis transit horum, qui felices vocantur, hilaritas ficta est, au gravis et suppurata tristitia; eo quidem gravior, quia interdum non licet palam esse miseros, sed inter ærumnas, cor ipsum exedentes, necesse est agere felicem"--if you wish to know, that there is no evil therein, compare the faces of the rich and the poor. the poor man laughs much oftener, and more heartily. there is no wearying solicitude pressing upon his inmost soul, and when care comes, it passes away, like a thin cloud. but the hilarity of these rich men, who are called happy, is affected, or a deep-seated and rankling anxiety, the more oppressive, because it never would answer for them to appear as miserable, as they are, being constrained to appear happy, in the midst of harassing cares, gnawing at their vitals. if seneca had been on 'change, daily, during the last half year, and watched the countenances of our wealthy money-lenders, he could not have portrayed the picture with a more masterly pencil. the rate of usury has, of course, a relation to the hazard encountered, and that hazard is ever uppermost in the mind of the usurer: and it is extremely doubtful, if the hope, however sanguine, of realizing two per cent. a month, is always sufficient, to quiet those fears, which will occasionally arise, of losing the principal and interest together. i never buried an old usurer, without a conviction, as i looked upon his hard, corrugated features, that, if he could carry nothing else with him, he certainly carried upon his checkered brow the very phylactery of his calling. we may talk about money, as an article of commerce, till we are tired--we may weary the legislature, by our importunity, into a repeal of the existing laws against usury--we may cudgel our brains, to stretch the mantle of the law over our operations, and make it appear _a regular business transaction_--it is a case, in which no refinement of the culinary art will ever be able to disguise, or neutralize, the odor of the opossum--there ever was--there is--there ever will be, i am afraid, a certain touch of moral _nastiness_ about it, which no casuistical chemistry will ever be able entirely to remove. doubtless, there are men, who take something more, during a period of scarcity, than legal interest, and who are very worthy men withal. there are others, who are descendants, in the right line, from the horse-leech of biblical history--who take all they can get. now, there is but one category: _they are all usurers_; and those, who are respectable, impart of their respectability to such, as have little or none; and give a confidence to those, who would be treated with contempt, for their merciless gripings, were they not banded together, with men of character, in the same occupation, as usurers. those, who take seven or eight per cent. per annum, and those who take _one per cent. a day_, and such things have been, are not easily distinguished; but the question, who come within the category, as usurers, is a thing more readily comprehended. all are such, who exceed the law. _usurer_, originally, was not a term of reproach; for _interest_ and _usury_ meant one and the same thing. the earlier statutes against usury, in england, were directed chiefly against the jews--whose lineal descendants are still in our midst. usury was forbidden, by act of parliament, in . the rate then taken by the jews, was enormous. in , henry viii., the rate established was ten per cent. this statute was confirmed by eliz. . reduced to eight per cent., james i. , when the word _interest_ was first employed, instead of _usury_. again reduced, by cromwell, , to six per cent. confirmed by charles ii. . reduced to five per cent., anne, . there are not two words about it; extortion and usury harden the heart; soil the reputation; and diminish the quantum of happiness, by lowering the standard of self-respect. that unconscionable griper, whose god is mammon, and who fattens upon misery, as surely as the vulture upon carrion, stalking up and down like a commercial buzzard, tearing away the substance of his miserable victim, by piecemeal--_two per cent. a month_--can he be happy! however much like a human being he may have looked, in his youth, the workings of his mercenary soul have told too truly upon his iron features, until that visage would form an appropriate figure-head for the portal of 'change alley, or the inquisition. --------"is your name shylock? shylock is my name." to how many, in this age of _anxious inquirers_, may we hold up this picture, and propound this interrogatory! god is just, though mahomet be not his prophet. instead of exclaiming, that god's ways are past finding out, let us go doggedly to work, and study them a little. some of them, i humbly confess, appear sufficiently intelligible, with common sense for an expositor. does not the all-wise contriver say, in language not to be mistaken, to such as worship, at the shrines of avarice and sensuality--you have chosen idols, and your punishment shall consist, in part, in the ridicule and contempt, which the worship of these idols brings upon your old age. you--the victim of intemperance--shall continue, with your bloated lips, to worship--not a stone image--but a stone jug; and grasping your idol with your trembling fingers, literally stagger into the grave! and you, though last, not least, of all vermicular things, whose whole time and intellectual powers are devoted to no higher object than making money--shall still crawl along, heaping up treasure, day after day--day after day--to die at last, not knowing who shall come after you, a wise man or a fool! "constant at church and 'change; his gains were sure, his givings rare, save farthings to the poor! the dev'l was piq'd such saintship to behold, and long'd to tempt him, like good job of old; but satan now is wiser than of yore, and tempts, by making rich, not making poor." no. xlix. self-conceit and vanity are very pardonable offences, till, stimulated by flattery, or aggravated by indulgence, they assume the offensive forms of arrogance and insolence. if we should drive, from the circle of our friends, all, who are occasionally guilty of such petty misdemeanors, we should restrict ourselves to the solitude of selkirk. there are some worthy men, with whom this little infirmity is an intermittent, alternating, like fever and ague, between self-conceit and self-abasement. like some estimable people, of both sexes, who, at one moment, proclaim themselves the chief of sinners, and the next, are in admirable working condition, as the spiritual guides and instructors of all mankind; these persons, under the influence of the wind, or the weather, or the world's smiles, or its frowns, or the state of their digestive organs, indicate, by their air and carriage, today, a feeling, far on the sunny side of self-complacency, and of deep humility, tomorrow. william boodle has been dead, some twenty years. he was my school-fellow. i would have undertaken anything, for boodle, while living, but i could not undertake for him, when dead. the idea of burying billy boodle, my playmate from the cradle--we were put into breeches, the very same day--with whom i had passed, simultaneously, through all the epocha--rattles--drums--go-carts--kites--tops--bats--skates--the idea of shovelling the cold earth upon him, was too much. i would have buried the governor and council, with the greatest pleasure, but billy boodle--i couldn't. so i changed works, that day, with one of our craft, who comprehended my feelings perfectly. i never shall forget my sensations, the first time he called me _mr. wycherly_. we had ever been on terms of the greatest intimacy, and had never known any other words of designation, than abner and bill. i was very much amazed; and he seemed a little confused, himself, when i laughed in his face, and asked him what the devil he meant by it. but he grew daily more formal in his manners, and more particular in his dress. his voice became changed--he began to use longer words--assumed an unusual wave of the hand, and a particular movement of the head, when speaking--and, while talking, on the most common-place topics, he had a way, quite new with him, of bringing down the fore-finger of his right hand, frequently and forcibly, upon the ball of the uplifted thumb of the left. he was a leather-breeches maker; and i caught him, upon two or three occasions, spouting in his shop, all by himself, before a small looking-glass. he once made a pair of buckskins, for old general heath--they did not fit--the general returned them, and boodle said he would have them _taken into a new draft_--i thought he was a little deranged: "taken where?" said the old general. boodle colored, and corrected himself, saying he would have them _let out_. he had two turns of this strange behavior, in one year, during which, he was rather neglectful of his business, pompous in his family, and talked to his wife, who was a plain, notable woman, of nothing but first principles, and political economy. in the intervals between these attacks, he was perfectly himself again, and it was abner and bill, as in former days. i have often smiled, at my own dullness, in not sooner apprehending the solution of this little enigma. boodle was a member of the legislature; and the fits were upon him, during the sessions. no man, probably, was ever more thoroughly confounded, than my old friend, when, it having been deemed expedient to compliment the leather-breeches interest, the committee requested him to permit his name to be put upon the list of candidates, as one of the representatives of the city of boston, in the general court. he could not think of it--the committee averred the utter impossibility of doing without him--he was ignorant of the duties--they could be learned in half a day--he was without education--the very thing, a self-taught man! he consented. how much more easily we are persuaded to be great men, than to be christians! there is but a step from conscious insignificancy to the loftiest pretension. boodle was elected, and awoke the next morning, less surprised by the event, than at the extraordinary fact, that his talents had been overlooked, so long. he spoiled three good skins that day, from sheer absence of mind. however disposed we may be to laugh at the airs of men, who so entirely misapprehend themselves and their constituents, our laughter should be tempered with charity. they are not honestly told, that they are wanted, only as makeweights--to keep in file--to follow, _en suite_--to register an edict: and their vanity is pardonable, in the ratio of that ignorance of themselves, which leads them to rely, so implicitly, upon the testimony of others. comparative mensuration is a very popular process, and a very comforting process, for all, who have made small progress in self-knowledge; and this category comprehends all, but a very small minority. there are a few, i doubt not, who think humbly of themselves; but there are very few, indeed, who cannot perceive, in themselves, or their possessions, some one or more points of imaginary superiority, over their fellows. this is an inexpensive mode of enjoying one's self, and i cannot see the wisdom, or the wit, of disturbing the self-complacency of any one, upon such an occasion, unless the delusion is of vital importance to somebody. what, if your neighbor prefers his dutch domicil, with its overhanging gable, to your classic chateau--or sees more to admire, in his broad-faced squab of a wife, than in your faultless helen--or vaunts the superiority of his short-legged cob, over your famous blood horse! let him. such things should be passed, with great forbearance, were it only for the innocent amusement they afford us. so far, however, is this from the ordinary mode of treating them, that i am compelled to believe vanity is often more apt, than criminality, to excite our irritable principle, and stimulate the spirit of resentment. i have known some worthy men, generous and humane, whose very gait has rendered them exceedingly unpopular. i once heard a pious and reverend clergyman say, of one of his very best parishioners, but whose unfortunate air of hauteur was rather remarkable, that, with all his excellent qualities, "it would do the flesh good to give him a kick." from a thousand illustrations, which are all around us, i will select one only. the anecdote, which i am about to relate, may be told without any apprehension of giving offence; as the parties have been dead, some thirty years. a worthy clergyman, residing in a neighboring state, grew old; and the parish, who entertained the most cordial respect and affection, for this venerable soldier of the cross, resolved to give him a colleague. after due inquiry, and a _quantum sufficit_ of preaching on probation, they decided on giving a call to parson brocklebank. he was a little, red, round man, with a spherical head, a brougham nose, and a gait, the like of which had never been seen, in that parish, before. it had not attracted particular notice, until after he was settled. to be sure, an aged single lady, of the parish, was heard to say, that she saw something of it, at the ordination, when parson brocklebank stepped forward, to receive the right hand of fellowship. suffice it to say, for the reader's particular edification, that it was indescribable. it became the village talk, and is thought to have had an injurious influence, in retarding a revival, which seemed to be commencing, just before the period of the ordination. however lowly in spirit, the new minister may have been, all who ever beheld him move, were satisfied, at a glance, that he had a most exalted opinion of himself. and yet he was an excellent man. this unfortunate trick of jerking out the hips, and those rotundities of flesh connected therewith, however it might have originated in "curs'd pride, that busy sin," had become, with parson brocklebank, an unchangeable habit. we often see it in a slight degree, but, as it existed in his particular case, it was a thing not known among men. i think i have seen it among women. dr. johnson would have called it a fundamental undulation, elaborated by the ostentatious workings of a pompous spirit. whatever it was, it was fatal to the peace and prosperity of that parish. every one talked of it. the young laughed at it; the old mourned over it; the middle aged were vexed by it; boys and girls were whipped, for imitating it; children were forbidden to look at it, for fear of their catching it; the very dogs were said to have barked at it. the parish began to dissolve, _sine die_. the deacons waited upon their old clergyman, father paybody, and the following colloquy ensued: "we're in a bad way, father paybody; and, if folks keep going off so, we don't see how we shall be able to pay the salaries.--dismiss me: i am of little use now.--no, no, father paybody, while there's a potato in this parish, we'll share it together. we call'd for advice. ever since parson brocklebank was settled, the parish has been going to pieces: what is the cause of it?--the shrewd old man shook his head, and smiled.--parson brocklebank is a good man, father paybody.--excellent.--sound doctrine.--very.--amazing ready at short notice.--very.--great at clearing a knotty passage.--very.--we think him a very pious christian.--very.--in the parochial relation he is very acceptable.--very.--i hear he has a winning way, and always has candy or gingerbread in his pockets, for the children, which helps the word greatly, with the little ones.--well, nearly half our people are dissatisfied, and have left, or will leave soon. what is the cause of it, father paybody?--i will tell you: it's owing to no other cause under the sun, than that wriggle of brother brocklebank's behind." no. l. i sincerely hope, that daniel h. pearson, now in prison, under suspicion of having murdered his wife and twin daughters, at wilmington, in this commonwealth, in the month of april last, may be proved to be an innocent man. for, should he be convicted, he will certainly be sentenced to be hung; and it is quite probable, that governor briggs, and his iron-hearted council may do, as they recently did, in the case of poor washington goode, a most unfortunate man, who, unhappily, committed a most infernal murder, of which, after an impartial trial, he was duly convicted. will it be believed, in this age of improved contrivances, moral and physical, that the governor and council of our commonwealth have actually refused, to rush between the sentence and the execution, and save this egregious scoundrel from the gallows! they have solemnly decided, not to interfere with the operation of that ancient law of this commonwealth, which decrees, that he, who kills his fellow man, with malice prepense, shall be hanged, by the neck, till he is dead! it really seems to me, that the time has arrived when massachusetts should be governed, by some compassionate person, who will prove himself, upon such unpleasant occasions, the murderer's friend. i am not unapprized of the fact, that there is a strong opposition to these opinions, among the wisest and best men in the community; and that, irrespectively of the operation of the _lex talionis_ upon the murderer, his death is accounted necessary, _in terrorem_, for the rest of mankind; as cicero has said--"_ut poena ad paucos, metus ad omnes perveniat_"--that the punishment may reach the few, and fear the many. but cicero was a heathen. there are also some individuals, having very little of that contempt for old wives' tales, which characterizes those profound thinkers, our interesting fellow-citizens of the liberty party, and who still venture, in these enlightened days, to cite the word of god--whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed. in the present condition of society, when there are so very few of us, who do not feel, that we are wise above what is written, this precept, delivered by god almighty, to noah, appears exceedingly preposterous, greatly resembling some of those _blue laws_, which were in operation, in the olden time, in a sister state. what was noah to jeremy bentham! although i am pained to confess the shortcomings of jeremy; for, though he did much to meliorate the severity of the british penal code, he went not, by any means, to those happy lengths, which we approve, in shielding the unfortunate murderer from the halter. there was a very amiable, old gentleman in england, who lived, through the times of charles i., both cromwells, and charles ii. he was reputed so wise, and learned, and just, and pious, that his judgment was highly prized, by all men. he was esteemed the greatest lawyer and the most upright, in all england; so much so, that, in , he was created lord chief justice of the realm. i desire to reason impartially, upon this subject, and therefore admit, that this great and good man, sir matthew hale, believed death to be a very just punishment, for certain crimes, inferior to murder. although sir matthew's crude notions are rapidly going out of fashion, it is but fair, to transcribe his words--"when offences grow enormous, frequent, and dangerous to a kingdom or state, destructive or highly pernicious to civil societies, and to the great insecurity and danger of the kingdom or its inhabitants, severe punishment and even death itself is necessary to be annexed to laws, in many cases, by the prudence of lawgivers." in all candor, we must admit, that sir matthew hale was notoriously the very reverse of a sanguinary judge. but sir matthew's days were the days of small things. we cannot sufficiently bless the great disposer of human affairs, for raising up the foolish, as he has done, in these latter days, and in such great numbers withal, to confound the wise. it is now no longer necessary, as of old, to pursue a particular course of study, to qualify mankind, for the work of legislation, or the practice of law, or physic, or the exposition of the more subtle points of religion, or ethics, or political economy. this truly is an age of intuition. he, who learns, or half learns, one profession, is, instanter, competent to perform the duties of all. it is a heavenly stream of universal light and power, somewhat analogous to the miraculous gift of tongues. nothing, in this connection, is more remarkable, than the rapid turgescence of every man's confidence, in his own abilities, upon the slightest encouragement, from his neighbor. there has been scarcely a blacksmith in new england, since the remarkable and merited success of elihu burritt, who, if you ask his opinion of the efficacy of pennyroyal for the stomach-ache, will not, with your permission, of course, prescribe for any acute or chronic complaint, with which you are afflicted. tailors, in full measure, nine to a man, will readily solve you a point of theology, which would have been fearfully approached, by tillotston or horne. and, upon this solemn subject of capital punishment, there is scarcely a man-midwife in the land, who is not ready, with his instruments, to deliver the community of all their scruples at once. this, certainly, is a blessed condition of things, for which we cannot be sufficiently thankful. that we may do abundant justice to our opponents, i propose to offer, in this place, a quotation from the edinburgh review, vol. , p. . the article is entitled--"_what is to be done with our criminals?_" the passage runs thus--"another circumstance, which renders legislation on this subject peculiarly difficult, is the lamentably perverted sentimentality, which is extensively diffusing itself among the people, and which may soon render it problematical, whether any penal code, really calculated to answer its objects, can be devised; a sentimentality, which weeps over the criminal, and has no tears to spare for the miseries he has caused--which transforms the felon into an object of interest and sympathy, and forgets the innocent sufferers from his cruelty or perfidy. so far as pity for the criminal is consistent with a more comprehensive compassion for those he has wronged, and is limited by the necessity of obtaining them redress and providing for the safety of society--so far as it prompts to a desire to see the statute-book cleared of every needless severity, and that no punishments shall be inflicted for punishment's sake it is laudable. "but we must, with regret, profess our belief, that it has often far transcended these limits; and has exhibited itself in forms and modes, which, if permitted to dictate the tone of our criminal legislation, would tend to the rapid increase of crime. the people in question belong to a class, always numerous, who are led by the imagination, and not by their reason--by emotion rather than reflection. they see the felon in chains, and they are dissolved in commiseration; they do not stop to realize all the miseries, which have at last made _him_ miserable--perhaps, in the present apathy of his conscience, much less miserable than many of those whom he has injured." this is from an article, ably written, of some fifty-eight pages, published in . i give it a place here, lest i should be suspected of suppressing all arguments, on the other side. the idea of hanging a murderer, by form of law, instead of placing him for a few years, in some _anxious seat_, the treadmill or the state prison, where he might be converted perhaps--cutting him off, in the midst of his days, without time allowed for repentance, is a terrible thing. i am perfectly aware, that it will be replied--this is the very thing which he did for his wretched victim. we are told, that the highest penalty known to the law is demanded. _all that a man hath will he give for his life_; and we are opposed, in our humane endeavors, by the scriptural edict referred to already. it is averred to be an all-important object in capital punishment, to operate upon the fears of others, _ut metus_, as we said before, _ad omnes perveniat_, which would be less likely to be the case, if the halter were abolished. it is true, that, while there is life, there is hope--hope of pardon; hope even of a natural and less horrible death; a fond, fearful hope of cutting the keeper's throat, and escaping from thraldom! how truly the poor murderer deserves our compassion! what a revolting spectacle this hanging is! here, however, i confess, the answer is complete--nobody, but the functionaries, is suffered to see it. it is much less of an entertainment, than it was, in the days of george selwyn, who was in the habit of feeing the keeper of newgate, for due notice of every execution, and a reservation of the best seat, nearest the gallows. it has been said, that hanging has become more unpopular, since it ceased to be a public amusement. it may be so--i rather doubt it. in former times, there were very few inexpensive public amusements, in boston, beside the thursday lectures; and a hanging has always been highly attractive, in town and country. i well remember, not very many years ago, while riding into the city, in my chaise, having been compelled to halt, and remain at rest, for twenty minutes, in washington, near pleasant street, while the immense mass of men, women and children rushed by, on their way to the execution of an irishman, which took place at the gallows, near the grave-yard, on the neck. the prisoner was in an open barouche, dressed in a blue coat and gilt buttons, white waistcoat, drab breeches, and white top boots, and his hair was powdered. he was accompanied by mr. larrassy, the catholic priest, and the physician of the prison. during the afternoon of july , , on the morning of which day the great fire occurred in boston, three pirates, brought home in irons, on board the brig betsey, captain saunders, belonging to daniel sargent, were hung on the common; and three governors, sitting in their chairs, would not have drawn half the concourse, then and there assembled. no. li. "thy clarence he is dead that stabb'd my edward; and the beholders of this tragic play untimely smothered in their dusky graves." there were no humane and gentle spirits, in those days of old, to speak soft words of comfort in the ears of murderers and midnight assassins. poor fellows! after they had let out the last drop of blood, in the hearts of their innocent victims, and reduced wives to widowhood, and children to orphanage--after the parricide had plunged the dagger in his father's heart--after the husband had murdered her, whom he had sworn, under the eye of god, to love and to cherish--after the wife, with the assistance of her paramour, had stealthily administered the poisonous draught to her confiding husband--they were respectively indicted--arraigned--publicly and deliberately tried--abundantly defended--and, when duly convicted at last, they were hanged, forsooth, by their necks, till they were dead! merciful god! where were the marys and the marthas! was there no political lawyer, in those days, whom the desire of personal aggrandizement could induce to befriend the poor, afflicted cut-throat, by which parade of philanthropy he might ride into notice, as the patriot of the anti-capital-punishment party! was there no tender-hearted doctor, whose leisure hours, neither few nor far between, might have been devoted to the blessed work of relieving the murderer, from the gallows, and himself, from the excruciating misery of nothing to do! truly we live in a tragi-comical world. during the late trial of john brown, the other day, for the murder of miss coventry, at tolland, in regard to which the jury could not agree, a requisition arrived from the governor of new york, for the prisoner, to answer, for the murder of mrs. hammond.--dr. v. p. coolidge, who murdered matthews, at waterville, committed suicide in prison, a few days since.--a precocious boy, eight years old, has, this month, chopped off the head of his sleeping father, with an axe, in the town of lisle, n. y.--matthew wood is to be hung in new york, june , for the murder of his wife.--alexander jones is to be hung, in the same state, on the same day, for arson.--goode is to be hung here, in a few days.--on the th day of the last month, a man, named newkirk, near louisville, kentucky, shot and killed his mother, near one hundred years of age.--on the third day of the present month, mr. carroll, near philadelphia, murdered his lady, by choking and pitching her down stairs.--j. m. riley is to be hung, june , for the murder of w. willis, in independence, tennessee.--vintner is under sentence of death, for murdering mrs. cooper, in baltimore.--elder enos g. dudley is to be hung, in new hampshire, may , for the murder of his wife.--the wife of john freedly, of philadelphia, is now in jail, for helping her husband, to murder his first wife.--pearson is now in prison, under charge of murdering his wife and twin daughters, at wilmington, in this commonwealth, in april last.--mrs. mcandrew has been convicted of murder, for killing her sister-in-law, in madison, mississippi.--elisha n. baldwin is to be hung, june , for the murder of his brother-in-law, victor matthews, at st. louis.--the girl, blaisdell, is to be hung, in new hampshire, aug. , for poisoning a little boy, two and a half years old. she was on trial for this act only. she had previously poisoned the child's grandmother, her friend and protectress, and subsequently attempted to poison both its parents. this "_misguided young lady_" was engaged to be married, and wanting cash, for an outfit, had forged the note of the child's father, for four hundred dollars. of wood's case i know little more, than that he murdered his wife. surely he is to be pitied, poor fellow. the case of elder enos is deeply interesting. this worthy elder took his partner out, to give her a sleigh-ride, in life and health, and brought home her lifeless body. she had knocked her head against a tree--such, indeed, was the opinion, expressed by elder enos. he was also of opinion that it was not good for an elder to be alone, for one minute; and he exhibited rather too much haste, perhaps, in taking to himself another partner. the jury were unanimously of opinion, that elder enos was mistaken, and that mrs. dudley came to her death, by the hands of elder enos himself. the elder and the jury differed in opinion; and therefore, forsooth, elder enos must be hanged by the neck till he is dead! how much better to change this punishment, for perpetual imprisonment--and that, after a few years of good behavior, upon a petition, subscribed by hundreds, who care not the value of a sixpence, whether elder enos is in the state prison, or out of it, for a pardon. then the church will again be blessed with his services, as a ruling elder; and the present mrs. dudley may herself be favored with a sleigh-ride, at some future day. the case of the "_misguided_" miss blaisdell is truly affecting. it is quite inconceivable how the people of new hampshire can have the heart to hang such an interesting creature by the neck, till she is dead. i am of opinion, that the remarks, with which judge eastman prefaced his sentence, must have hurt miss blaisdell's feelings. it seems that she only made use of the little innocent, as æronauts employ a pet balloon, to try the wind. she wished to ascertain, if her poison was first proof, before she tried it, upon the parents. although it had worked to perfection, upon the old lady, miss blaisdell, who appears to have acted with consummate prudence, was not quite satisfied of its efficacy, upon more vigorous constitutions. it is quite surprising, that judge eastman should have talked so unkindly to miss blaisdell, in open court--"_an experiment is to be made; the efficiency of your poison is to be tried; and the helpless innocent boy is selected. he is left in your care, with all the confidence of a mother. he plays at your feet, he prattles at your side. you take him up, and give him the fatal morphia; and, when you see him sicken and dizzy, and stretching out his little arms to his mother, and trying to walk, your heart relents not. may god soften it._" what sort of a judge is this, to harrow up the delicate feelings of "_a misguided young lady_" after this fashion! it has been proposed, by a medical gentleman, whose philanthropy has assumed the appearance of a violent eruption, breaking out in every direction, that, if this abominable punishment, this destruction of life, which god almighty has prescribed, in the case of murder, must continue to be inflicted, the "_misguided young ladies_" and "_unfortunate men_," who commit that crime, shall be executed under the influence of ether. this may be considered the happiest suggestion of the age. a tract may be expected from the pen of this gentleman, ere long, entitled "crumbs of comfort for cut-throats, or hanging made easy." jeremy bentham gave his body to be dissected, for the good of mankind. oh, that this worthy doctor, who has struck out this happy thought of hanging, under the influence of ether, would _verify the suggestion_! there are some individuals, who had rather be hanged, than talked to, in such an unfeeling manner, as judge eastman talked to the unfortunate and misguided miss blaisdell: it has therefore been decided to improve, upon the suggestion of hanging murderers, under the influence of ether; and we propose to apply for an act, authorizing the sponge to be applied to the nostrils of the condemned, by the clerk _ex officio_, during the time, when the judge is pronouncing the sentence. the time of the murderer is short, and there are many little comforts, and even delicacies, which would greatly tend to soften the rigor of his imprisonment. we have it, upon the testimony of more than one experienced keeper of newgate, that, with some few exceptions, the appetite of the misguided, who are about to be hanged, is remarkably good. i fully comprehend the objections, which will be made to the use of ether, and granting such other little indulgences, to those, who are about to be sentenced, or are already condemned to be hanged. the ciceronian argument,--_ut metus ad omnes perveniat_, will be neutralized. how many, it will be said, are now upon the earth, without god in this world, without the least particle of religious sensibility, disappointed men, desperate, degraded, men of utterly broken hopes, broken hearts, and broken fortunes, to whom nothing would be more acceptable, than an easy transition from this wide-awake world of pain and sadness to that region of negative happiness, which they anticipate, in their fancied state of endless oblivion beyond. they may be, nevertheless, disturbed, in some small degree, _in articulo_, by that indestructible doubt, which hangs over the mind, even the mind of the most sceptical, and deepens and darkens as death draws near,--suppose there should be a god!--what then! they are therefore unwilling to cut their own throats, however willing to cut the throats of other people. but, if the state will take the responsibility, and furnish the ether, there are not a few, who would very complacently embrace the opportunity. that fear, which it is desirable to keep before the eyes of all men, say our opponents, is surely not the fear of the easiest of all imaginable deaths--the fear of meeting, not the king of terrors, but the very thing, which all men pray for, a placid exit from a world of care--a welcome spirit--an _etherial_ deliverer. on the contrary, we wish, say they, to hold up to the world the fear of a terrible, as well as a shameful death: and we desire to give a certainty to this fear, which we cannot do, while the frequent exercise of the power of commutation and of pardon teaches that portion of our race, which is fatally bent upon mischief, that the gibbet is nothing but a bugbear; and that, let them commit as many murders, as they will, there is not one chance, in fifty, of their coming to the gallows, at last. it is not easy to answer this argument, upon the spur of the moment; and it has been referred to a committee of our society, with instructions to prepare a reply, in season for the next execution. we have the satisfaction of knowing, that no efforts have been spared by us, to save washington goode, one of the most interesting of murderers, from the gallows. we have endeavored to get up an excitement in the community, by posting placards, in numerous places--"a man to be hanged!" by this we intended to put an execution upon the footing of a puppet-show or play, and thereby to excite the public indignation. but, most unfortunately, there is too much common sense among the people of boston, and too little enthusiasm altogether, for the successful advancement of our philanthropic views. however, importunity, if we faint not, will certainly prevail. the right of petition is ours. let us follow, in the steps of amy darden and william vans. the legislature, at their last session, indefinitely postponed the consideration of the subject of the abolition of capital punishment. the legislature is made of flesh and blood, and must finally give way, as a matter of course. it cannot be denied, that gentlemen make use, occasionally, of strange arguments, while opposing our efforts, in favor of those _misguided_ persons, who _unfortunately_ commit rape, treason, arson, murder, &c. a few years since, when a bill was before our house of representatives, for the abolition of capital punishment, in the case of rape, while it was proposed to retain it in the case of highway robbery--"let us go home, mr. speaker," exclaimed an audacious orator, "and tell our wives and our daughters, that we set a higher value upon our purses, than upon the security of their persons, from brutal violation." no. lii. to my anonymous correspondent who inquires, through the medium of the post-office, in what respect my "dealings with extortioners" can fairly be entitled "_dealings with the dead_," i reply, because they are _alive_ unto sin, and _dead_ unto righteousness. in lord bacon's life of henry vii., london edition of , vol. v. , the lord chancellor morton says to the parliament--"his grace prays you to take into consideration matters of trade, as also the manufactures of the kingdom, and to repress the bastard and barren employment of moneys to usury and unlawful exchanges, that they may be, as their natural use is, turned upon commerce, and lawful, and royal trading." henry viii. came to the throne, in , and the rate of interest was fixed, in , the th of that king's reign; and that rate was ten per cent. per annum. before that time, no christian was allowed to take interest for money; and the jews had the matter of usury, all to themselves. it was shown, before parliament, that, in , two shillings was the rate, demanded and given, for the loan of twenty shillings for one week; and stowe states, that the people were so highly excited against the jews, on account of their extortion, as to massacre seven hundred of them, in london, in . in , a law was passed, compelling every jew, lending money on interest, to wear a plate on his breast, signifying, that he was an usurer, or to quit the realm. what an exhibition we should have, in state street, and the alleys, if this edict should be revived, against those, whose uncircumcision would avail them nothing, to disprove their levitical propinquity. in , two hundred and sixty-seven jews were hung, in london, for clipping the coin. their usurious practices, at last, so highly exasperated the nation, that, according to rapin, lond., , vol. iii. , , were banished the realm, in . they had obtained great privileges from king edward; but, says rapin, "lost all these advantages, by not curbing their insatiable greediness of enriching themselves, by unlawful means, as usury, &c." i find sir edward coke denies the fact of their banishment. his version is this: "they were not banished, but their usury was banished, by the statute, enacted in this parliament, and that was the cause they banished themselves into foreign countries, where they might live by their usury; and because they were odious to the nation, that they might pass out of the realm in safety, they made a petition to the king, that a certain day might be prefixed for them to depart the realm, that they might have the king's writ to his sheriffs, for their safe conduct." d institute, . hume, nevertheless, oxford ed., ii. , reaffirms the statement of rapin. hume says, ibid., the practice of usury was afterwards carried on, "by the english themselves upon their fellow-citizens, or by the lombards and other foreigners;" and he adds--"it is very much to be questioned, whether the dealings of these new usurers were equally open and unexceptionable with the old." perhaps it may be questioned, whether the community would not fare better, at the present day, if some of the circumcised could be imported hither, from the jews' quarter, in istampol. the following remark of hume, on the same page, is of importance to the political economist:--"but as the canon law, seconded by the municipal, permitted no christian to take interest, all transactions of this kind must, after the banishment of the jews, have become more secret and clandestine, and the lender, of consequence, be paid both for the use of his money, _and for the infamy and danger, which he incurred by lending it_." this is not from aristotle, nor one of the school divines, but from david hume, whose liberality is sufficiently notorious. the english usurers, in those days, were more excusable, because they were not permitted to take _any interest whatever_, for the loan of money, while money lenders here have not the same excuse for being usurers, as they may lawfully take six per cent. per annum, or one per cent. above the legal rate of great britain, as established in , the th of queen anne, and which has remained unaltered, to the present day. i have heard of a fellow, who, upon being asked, after conviction of larceny, if he did not regret his conduct, replied, with an air of great sincerity, that he certainly did--for, instead of stealing a few pieces of gold, as he had done, he might easily have stolen enough, to bribe the court and jury. the jews were wiser in their day and generation--they never suffered themselves to be placed in a predicament, which might cause them to suffer from any such regret. for many years, there subsisted a delightful understanding, between them and edward i. longshanks. longshanks granted them many and various indulgencies; by his permission, they even had a synagogue in london. on their part, they were willing to relieve the necessities of longshanks. in short, longshanks was, vicariously, and upon the principle, that _qui facit per alium facit per se_, the very apollyon of all usurers. he countenanced the extortion of the jews, and shared the spoils. sir edward coke, in his second institute, , states that, in seven years, covering portions of the reigns of henry iii. and edward i., the crown had four hundred and twenty thousand pounds, fifteen shillings, and four pence from the jews. after treating of the advantages and disadvantages of taking interest, on money loans, and arriving at the sensible conclusion, that it is impossible for society to get along without them, lord bacon remarks, ii. --"let usury (the term for interest in those days) in general be reduced to five in the hundred, and let the rate be proclaimed to be free and current: and let the state shut itself out to take any penalty for the same. this will preserve borrowing from any stop or dryness. this will ease infinite borrowers in the country, &c." lord bacon was therefore in favor of an universal rate of interest, established by law. of usury, in the opprobrious sense of the word, the taking of excessive and unlawful interest, this great man speaks in his tract on riches, ii. , in no very complimentary terms--"usury is the certainest means of gain, though one of the worst, as that whereby a man doth eat his bread, in _sudore vultus alieni_," by the sweat of another's brow. i have heard it said of a rural governor of massachusetts, now sleeping with his fathers, that, although addicted to the practice of virtual usury, he scrupulously abstained from lending money, at any rate, beyond six per cent. it became a by-word, in his district, however, when a farmer became straitened for a little money, and was inquiring among his neighbors--_that it was quite likely his excellency might have a yoke of cattle, that he did not care to winter over_! the cattle were sold at a high price to the needy man, who sold them forthwith, at auction, or otherwise, for a small one, giving the worthy governor his note in payment, and a mortgage on his farm, if required. the note was payable in six months, or a year, with "lawful interest." this moral manoeuvre appears to have been of ancient origin. there is the draught of a law for the punishment of it, in lord bacon's works, iv. . the preamble runs thus--"whereas it is an usual practice, to the undoing and overthrowing of many young gentlemen and others, that where men are in necessity, and desire to borrow money, they are answered, that money cannot be had, but that they may have commodities sold unto them, upon credit, whereof they may make money, as they can: in which course it ever comes to pass, not only that such commodities are bought at extreme high rates, and sold again far under foot, at a double loss; but also that the party which is to borrow, is wrapt in bonds and counter bonds; so that upon a little money, which he receiveth, he is subject to penalties and suits of great value." then follows the statute, taking away legal remedy, and punishing the broker or procurer with six months' imprisonment, and the pillory. it has been commonly understood, that, before the act of th henry viii., though christians were forbidden to take any interest for money, the jews were not restrained; yet lord chief baron hale, hard. , says that jewish usury was forbidden, at common law, being forty per cent. and upwards, per annum, but no other. lea, c. j., palm. , says, that the usury, condemned at common law, was the "_biting usury_" of the jews. to comprehend this expression, it must be understood, that, among the jews, of old, there were two hebrew words, signifying _usury_, _terebit_, which meant simply _increase_, and _neshec_, which meant _devouring_ or _biting usury_. of this distinction, an account may be found in calmet, vol. iii. fragment . when the statute of james i. was passed, in , reducing the rate from ten to eight per cent., orde says, in his law of usury, p. , that the bishops "would not, at first, agree to it, for the sole reason, that there was no clause that disgraced usury, as in former statutes; and then the clause at the end of that statute was added, for their satisfaction." usury was punished more severely in france, than in england. for the first offence, the usurer "was punished by a public and ignominious acknowledgment of his offence, and was banished. his second offence was capital, and he was hanged." coke's d institute, . no. liii. our society, whose object is nothing less than the entire and unqualified abolition of capital punishment, have derived the greatest advantage, from an ample recognition of the rights of women--not only by a free participation of counsel with the softer sex, after the example of certain other societies, the value of whose services can never be understood, by the present generation; but by assigning equally to both sexes, all offices of honor and trust. we have adhered to this principle, with the most perfect impartiality, in the composition of our committees. thus, our committee, for visiting the condemned, consists of the rev. mr. puzzlepot, and the five miss frizzles--the committee on public excitement, prior to an execution, consists of dr. omnibus, squire farrago, mrs. pickett, and her daughters, the misses patience and hopestill pickett. in like proportion, all our committees are constructed. we think proper, in this public manner, to express our warmest acknowledgments to mrs. negoose, madam moody, and squire bodkin, for their able report, on the iniquity of presumptive or circumstantial evidence. the notes, appended to this report, are invaluable--their authorship cannot be mistaken--every individual, acquainted with the peculiar style of the gifted author, will recognize the powerful hand of the justly celebrated mrs. folsom. this committee are of opinion, that, under the show or pretence of punishing murder, our legal tribunals are constantly committing it. they _presume_, forsooth, that is, they guess, that the prisoner is guilty, and therefore take the awful responsibility of hanging him by the neck, till he is dead! this, says mrs. negoose, is _presumption_ with a vengeance. the committee refer to the statement of sir matthew hale, as cited by blackstone, iv. - , that he had known two cases, in which, after the accused had been hung for murder, the individuals, supposed to have been murdered, had re-appeared, in full life. upon this, the committee reason, with irresistible force and acumen. how many judges, say they, there have been, since the world began, we know not. _two cases_, in which innocent persons were executed, on presumptive or circumstantial evidence, are proved to have occurred, within the knowledge of _one judge_. it is reasonable, say the committee, to conclude that, at a moderate calculation, _three cases_ more, remaining undiscovered, occurred within the jurisdiction of that _one judge_. now, we have nothing to do, but to ascertain the number of judges, who have ever existed, and then multiply that number by _five_; and thus, say the committee, "by the unerring force of figures, which cannot lie, we have the sanguinary result." "talk not of ermine," exclaims mrs. negoose, the chairwoman of the committee, in a gush of scorching eloquence, "these blood-stained judges, gory with the blood of the innocents, let them be stripped of their ermine, and robed with the skins of wild cats and hyenas." it has excited the highest indignation in the society, that sir matthew hale, who has ever borne the name of a humane and upright judge, should have continued to decide questions, involving life, upon circumstantial evidence, after the cases, referred to above, had come to his knowledge, and in the very same manner, that he had been accustomed to decide them, in earlier times. mrs. moody openly expresses her opinion, that he was no better than he should be; and squire bodkin only wishes, that he could have had half an hour's conversation with sir matthew. the only effect, produced upon the mind of sir matthew hale, by these painful discoveries, seems to have been to call forth an expression of opinion, that circumstantial evidence should be received with caution; and that, in trials for murder and manslaughter, no person should ever be convicted, till the body of the individual, alleged to have been killed, had been discovered. an opinion, often repeated, as having been expressed by chief justice dana, after the conviction of fairbanks, for the murder of miss fales, at dedham, in , has frequently been a topic of conversation, among the members of our society, and mrs. negoose is satisfied, that if chief justice dana expressed any such opinion, he must have been out of his head. fairbanks was convicted and hung, on circumstantial evidence entirely. the concatenation, or linking together, of circumstances, in that remarkable case, was very extraordinary. the sympathy for fairbanks was very great, and began to exhibit itself, almost as soon, as the spirit had fled from the body of his victim. after his condemnation, his zealous admirers, for such they seemed to be, assisted him successfully, to break jail. he was retaken, on the borders of lake champlain; and, as the jail in boston was of better proof, than the jail in dedham, he was committed to the former. the genealogy of fairbanks was shrouded in a sort of mystery. ladies, of respectable standing, visited him, in his cell, and one, in particular, of some literary celebrity, in our days of small things, was supposed to have supplied him with a knife, of rather expensive workmanship, for the purpose of self-destruction. this knife was found upon his person, after her visits. there was no positive proof, to establish the guilt of jason fairbanks--not a tittle. yet a merciless jury found him guilty, by a process, which our society considers mere _guess work_,--and after the execution, judge dana is reported to have said, that he believed fairbanks murdered miss fales, more certainly, from the circumstantial evidence, produced at the trial, than if he had had the testimony of his own eyesight, at a short distance, in a dusky day. what sort of a judge is this? cried mrs. negoose--sure enough, exclaimed madam moody. i have no objection to give our opponents all the advantage, which they can possibly derive from a full and fair exposition of their arguments. when a witness, for example, swears, directly and unhesitatingly, that he saw the prisoner inflict a wound, with a deadly weapon, upon another person--that he saw that other person instantly fall, and die shortly after, this is _positive evidence of something_. yet the act may be murder, or it may be manslaughter, or it may be justifiable homicide. murder consists of three parts, the malice prepense, the blow inflicted or means employed, and the death ensuing, within a time prescribed by law. there can be no _murder_, if either of these parts be absent. now, it is contended, by such as deem it lawful and right to hang the unfortunate, misguided, upon circumstantial evidence, that, however _positive_ the evidence may be, upon the two latter points--the act done and the death ensuing--it is necessary, from the nature of things, in every case to depend on _circumstantial_ evidence, to prove the malice prepense. one or more of the senses enable the witness to swear positively to either of the two latter points. but the malice prepense must be _inferred_, from words, deeds, and _circumstances_. upon this dr. omnibus sensibly observes, that this very fact proves the impropriety of hanging upon all occasions: and mrs. negoose remarks, that she is of the same opinion, on the authority of that ancient dictum, the authorship of which seems to be equally ascribed to solomon and sancho panza--that "_circumstances_ alter cases." it is really surprising, that so grave and sensible a man, as mr. simon greenleaf, should have made the remark, which appears on page , vol. i., of his treatise on evidence,--"_in both cases_ (civil and criminal) _a verdict may well be founded on circumstances alone; and these often lead to a conclusion far more satisfactory than direct evidence may produce_." mr. greenleaf refers, for illustration of this opinion, to the case of bodine, n. y. legal observer, vol. iv. p. , et seq. lawyer bodkin's work on evidence will, doubtless, correct this error. let us reason impartially. compunction, in a dying hour, we cannot deny it, has established the fact, that innocent persons have been hung, now and then, upon _positive_ evidence, the false witness confessing himself the murderer, _in articulo mortis_. well, says madam moody, here is fresh proof of the great sinfulness of hanging.--to be sure.--but let our opponents have fair play. a. is found dead, evidently stabbed.--b. is seized upon suspicion.--c. heard b. declare he would have the heart's blood of a.--d. saw b. with a knife in his hand, ten minutes before the murder.--e. finds a knife bloody, near the place of the murder.--f. recognizes the knife as his own, and by him lent to b. just before the time of the murder.--g. says the size of the wound is precisely the size of the knife.--h. says, that, when he arrested b. his hand and shirt-sleeve were bloody.--i. says he heard b. say, just after the murder, "i've got my revenge." in the case supposed, c. d. e. f. g. h. and i. swear _positively_, each one to a particular fact. here are seven witnesses. here then is a chain of evidence, whereof each witness furnishes a single link. it is the opinion of peake, chitty, starkie, greenleaf, and all other writers, on the law of evidence, that this chain is often as strong or stronger, than it would be, were it fabricated by one man only. i will not deny, that dr. omnibus and mrs. negoose think differently. an extraordinary example of circumstantial evidence, in a capital case, was related by lord eldon. a man was on trial for murder. the evidence against him, which was wholly circumstantial, was so very insufficient, that the prisoner, confident of acquittal, assumed an air of easy nonchalance. the officer, who had arrested the prisoner, and conducted the customary search, had exhibited, in court, the articles, found upon his person, at the time of his capture--a few articles of little value, and, among them, a fragment of a newspaper. the surgeon, who examined the body of the victim after death, produced the ball, which he had extracted from the wound, precisely as he found it. enveloped in a wrapper of some sort, and with the blood dried upon it, it presented an almost unintelligible mass. a basin of warm water was brought into court--the mass was softened--the wrapper carefully detached--it was the fragment of a newspaper, and fitted like the counterpart of an indenture to the fragment, taken by the officer from the prisoner's person. he was hung. dear me! says mrs. negoose, what a pity! i regret to learn from the late london papers, that mr. horace twiss is recently dead. no one, i am confident, will fail to join in this feeling of regret, who has enjoyed, as i have done, the perusal of his truly delightful work, "the public and private life of lord chancellor eldon." no. liv. a pleasant anecdote is related by nichols, of dean swift, who, when his servant apologized for not cleaning his boots, on a journey, because they would soon be dirty again, directed him to get the horses in readiness immediately: and, upon the fellow's remonstrance, that he had not eaten his breakfast, replied, that it was of little consequence, as he would soon be hungry again. the american irish are, undoubtedly, a very sweet people, when they are thoroughly washed; but they rarely think of washing themselves or their children--they are so soon dirty again. hydrophobia is an irish epidemic; and there are also some of the native american party, i fear, who have not been into water, since the declaration of independence. when peter fagan applied to me, a few days since, to read for him a letter, from his cousin, eyley murphy, of ballyconnel, in the county of cavan, he was so insufferably filthy, that i gave him a quarter of a dollar, to be spent in sacrificing to the graces, that is, in taking a warm bath. while he was absent, i examined the letter; and found it to be a very interesting account of the execution of fagan's fourth cousin, rory mullowny, for murder. as i thought its publication might be of importance here, at this time, i obtained mr. fagan's permission to place it before the community. i was, at first, disposed to correct the spelling, and give it rather more of an english complexion, but have, upon the whole, decided to publish it, as it is. fagan tells me, that eyley murphy was the daughter of the hedge school-master, at ballyconnel. the letter is written in a fair hand, and directed, "for misther pether fagan, these--boston, capital of amerriky." ballyconnel, cavan, march , .--fagan dear, bad news and thrue for ye it is; rory mullowny, your own blood cousin o' the forth remove, by the mither's side, was pit up yestreen for the murther o' tooley o'shane, and there was niver a felly o' all that's been hung in ballyconnel, with sich respictable attindance. the widdy magee pit the divle into both the poor fellies, no more nor a waak arter the birril o' her forth husband, and so she kipt a flarting wid the one and the tither, till she flarted um out o' the warld this away. poor rory--what a swaat boy he was--jist sax foot and fore inches in his brogans--och, my god! it's myself that wush'd i'd bin pit up along wid im. but he's claan gane now; whin we was childer togither how we used to gather the pirriwincles by the brook, and chase the fire-flaughts in the pasture o' a june evening--och my god--pether--pether--but there's no use waaping anyhow, so i'll be telling ye the shtory. poor mullowny was found guilty o' what they call sircumstanshul ividunce. a spaach it was he made whin the cussid sherry was pittin im up, and he swore he died more innisent o' the crime nor the mither o' god, and he called god to witness what he sed. himself it was that was rather hasty onyhow, in makin a confission to father brian bogle o' this very murther, and some other small mathers, a rape or too, may be, and sich like. but the socyety that's agin pittin a body up--god bliss their sowls--they perswaded im to spaak at the gallows, and till the paaple how it was, and they rit im a spaach, in wich he toult 'em a body's last wull was the only wull that was gud in the law, and sure it was a poor body's last words and dyin spaach that was gud anunder the tree. and whin he had dun, the cursed divelsbird o' a sherry, wid a hart as coult as bog mud, swung im off in a minnit. it was himsilf was spaakin; and i jist pit my apurn to my face to wipe aff the saut wather, whin i heerd a shreek and a howl, louder and wilder nor ten thousand keenas at a birril, whin i lookd up and saw poor, daar mullowny a swingin in the air. the like o' that yersilf niver saad, pether fagan, nor the mither that brot ye into this world o' care and confushon. the wimmin scraamed loud enuff to friten the little childer claan away in ballymahon. the min swung their shillalies owr their heds. father brian bogle was crossing himself, and a stone hurld by jimmy fitzgerald at the infarnal sherry, knocked father bogle's taath down his throte. by the same token ye see, they was pit in for im the dee afore at considerable cost. father brian fell back, head foremost, ye see, on top o' molly mahoney's little bit table o' refrishments, and twas the wark o' a minnit. molly, who jist afore was wall to do in the warld, was a brukken marchant, immadiately, all claan gane; tumblers o' whiskey, cakes, custards, and cookies was all knocked in the shape o' bit o'chalk; and all the pennies she had took since bick o'dee--for more nor ten thousan was on the spot to see poor rory pit up afore dee--was scattered and clutched up, by hunders o' little childher that was playing prop and chuck farding anunder the gallus. a jug o' buthermilk was capsized ower the widdy magee's bran new dress, that was made for the hanging precesely, and ruinated it pretty considerably intirely. it was not myself that pittied the hussy--she to be there, as naar to the gallus as she could squaze hersel, and the very cause o' the dith o' poor rory, and tooley o'shane into the bargin. och, fagan, niver ye see was the likes o' it in ballyconnel afore. whin the sherry was for cuttin the alter and littin the corps o' poor, daar mullowny down into the shell, that was all riddy below, the mullownys swore they would have the body, for a riglar birrill, and a wake, and a keena, ye see--and the o'shanes swore it should go to the risirictioners, to be made into a menotomy. then for it, it was--sich a cursin and swaring and howling--sich a swingin o' shillalies, sich a crackin o' pates, sich callin upon jasus and the blissid mither, sich a scramin o' wimmin and childer, niver was herd afore in county cavan. the sherry he gat on molly mahoney's little table to read the ryot act, and whin he opunt his mouth phelim macfarland flung a rottun egg atwaan his taath preceesly, and brot im to a spaady conclushon. poor rory's vinrable oult mither was carried aff and murthered in the side o' the hid, wid a stone mint for the sherry, o' which she recovered diricly. they tried to kaap her quiet in her shanty, but she took on so gravous, that they let her attind the pittin up--poor ould sowl--she sed she had attinded the last moments o' her good man, and both her childer, patrick and pether, whin they wur pit up the same way, and it was not the like o' her to hart poor daar rory's faalings onyhow. dolly macabe was saved by a myrrikle, ye see. she took out wid her her siven childer, leading little phelim by the hand, wid her babe at the brist, and hersilf in a familiar way into the bargin. she was knocked ower and trampled under the faat o' the fellies as was yellin and fitin, and stunted out o' her raason intirely. only jist think o' it, fagan daar, when she kim too, not one o' the childher was hart in the laast, nor dolly naather; and the first thing she asked wos, whose was the two swaat babes, lyin together, and they toult her they war her own. ye see, patrick o'shane and some more trod upon dolly macabe and hastened matters a leetle, and she was delivered o' twins, widout knowin anything about it. they gied her a glass o' whiskey, and o'flaherty, the baker, pit the swaat babes in his brid cart, and dolly, who priffird walking, wint home as well as could be expected. all the macabes have ixcillint constitushons, and make no moor o' sich thrifles, than nothing at all. but its for tellin the petiklars i'm writin. as i toult ye, twas about the widdy magee. rory toult more nor fifty, for a waak afore, that he'd have tooley's hart's blood. when tooley was found, it was ston ded he was, and his hed was bate all to paces, and rory was o' tap o' im houltin im by the throte, wid a shillaly nigh by, covered wid blud, and the blood was rinnin out o' his eyes, and nose, and aars. lawyer mcgammon definded rory, the poor unfortunit crathur, and he frankly admitted, that it was onlocky for him to be found jist that away, but he toult the jewry, that as he hoped for salvashun, rory was an innysunt man, and he belaaved the foreman as guilty nor he. he brot half ballyconnel to prove that tooley was liable to blaad fraly at the nose, and was apt to have a rush o' blood to the hed, and he compared rory to the good summeritan, and sed he was there by the marest axidunt in the warld, and was tryin to stop the flow o' blud by houltin tooley by the throte. as to the bloody shillaly, mcgammon brot more nor twenty witnesses, and ivery one a mullowny, to sware it was more like tooley's own shillaly nor two paas in a pud; and then he had three lunatic doctors, they call'd em, to prove that the o'shane's were o' the silf-distructive persuashun. as to what rory had sed about havin tooley's hart's blud, lawyer mcgammon provd that it was a common mode o' spakin in ballyconnel and all owr the contree, among frinds and neybors, and thin he hinted, in a dillikit wey, that all the mullownys wuld be after sayin that virry same thing o' the jewry, if thay brot rory to the gallus by thair vardic, and that he was guilty o' nothin but circumstanshul ividunce. but the jewry brot in the poor felly guilty o' murther, and its all owr wid poor rory. it's no more i can rite--your sister betty macnamarra has nine fine boys, at thraa births it is. from yours ever till the dee, eyley murphy. no impartial reader of miss eyley murphy's letter will hesitate to pronounce rory mullowny an unfortunate man, and his case another example of the abominable practice of hanging innocent persons, upon circumstantial evidence. no. lv. poor eli--as the old man was familiarly called by the boston sextons of his time. he was a prime hand, at the shortest notice, in his better days. he has been long dead--died by inches--his memory first. for a year or more before his death, he was troubled with some strange hallucinations, of rather a professional character--among them, an impression, that he had committed a terrible sin, in putting so many respectable people under ground, who had never done him any harm. he said to me, more than once, while attempting to dissipate this film from his mental vision--"abner, take my advice, and give up this wicked business, or you'll be served so yourself, one of these days." i was, upon one occasion, going over one of our farms, with the old man--the granary burying-ground--and he flew into a terrible passion, because no grave had been dug for old master lovell--the father. we tried to remind him, that master lovell, many years before, in , had turned tory, and gone off with the british army; but poor old eli was past conviction. he took his last favorite walk, among the graves on copp's hill, one morning in may--he there met a very worthy man, whom he was so fully persuaded he had buried, twenty years before, that he hobbled home, in the greatest trepidation, took to his bed, and never left it, but to verify his own suggestion, that we are all to be finally buried. during his last, brief illness, his mental wanderings were very manifest:--"poor man--poor man"--he would mutter to himself--"i'm sure i buried him--deep grave, very--estate's been settled--his sons--very fast young men, took possession--gone long ago--poor weeping widow--married twice since--what a time there'll be--oh lord forgive me, i'll never bury another." he was eighty-two then, and used to say he longed to die, and get among his old friends, for all, that he had known, were dead and gone. a feeling, somewhat akin to this, is apt to gather about us, and grow stronger, as we march farther forward on our way, the numbers of our companions gradually lessening, as we go. our ranks close up--those, with whom we stood, shoulder to shoulder, are cut down by the great leveller--and their places are filled by others. as we grow older, and the friends and companions of our earlier days are removed, we have a desire to do the next best thing--we cannot supply their places--but there are individuals--worthy people withal--whose faces have been familiar to our eyes, for fifty or sixty years--we have passed them, daily, or weekly--we chance to meet, no matter where--the ice is broken, by a mutual agreement, that it is very hot, or that it is very cold--very wet, or very dry--an allusion follows to the great number of years we have known each other, by name, and this results, frequently, in a relation, which, if it be not entitled to the sacred name of friendship, is not to be despised by those, who are deep in the valley:--out of such materials, an old craft, near the termination of its voyage, may rig up a respectable jury-mast, at least, and sail on comfortably, to the haven where it would be. the old standard merchants, who transacted business, on the long wharf, boston pier, when i was a boy--are dead--_stelligeri_--almost every one of them; and, if all, that i have known and heard of them, were fairly told, it would make a very readable volume, highly honorable to many of their number, and calculated to operate, as a stimulus, upon the profession, in every age. one little narrative spreads itself before my memory, at this moment, which i received from the only surviving son of the individual, to whom it especially refers. a merchant, very extensively engaged in commerce, and located upon the long wharf, died february , , at the age of , intestate. his eldest son administered upon the estate. this old gentleman used pleasantly to say, that, for many years, he had fed a very large number of the catholics, on the shores of the mediterranean, during lent, referring to his very extensive connection with the fishing business. in his day, he was certainly well known; and, to the present time, is well remembered, by some of the "_old ones down along shore_," from the gurnet's nose to race point. among his papers, a package, of very considerable size, was found, after his death, carefully tied up, and labelled as follows: "_notes, due-bills, and accounts against sundry persons, down along shore. some of these may be got by suit or severe dunning. but the people are poor: most of them have had fishermen's luck. my children will do as they think best. perhaps they will think with me, that it is best to burn this package entire._" "about a month," said my informant, "after our father died, the sons met together, and, after some general remarks, our elder brother, the administrator, produced this package, of whose existence we were already apprized; read the superscription; and asked what course should be taken, in regard to it. another brother, a few years younger than the eldest, a man of strong, impulsive temperament, unable, at the moment, to express his feeling, by words, while he brushed the tears from his eyes with one hand, by a spasmodic jerk of the other, towards the fireplace, indicated his wish to have the package put into the flames. it was suggested, by another of our number, that it might be well, first, to make a list of the debtors' names, and of the dates, and amounts, that we might be enabled, as the intended discharge was for all, to inform such as might offer payment, that their debts were forgiven. on the following day, we again assembled--the list had been prepared--and all the notes, due-bills, and accounts, whose amount, including interest, exceeded thirty-two thousand dollars, were committed to the flames." "it was about four months after our father's death," continued my informant, "in the month of june, that, as i was sitting in my eldest brother's counting-room, waiting for an opportunity to speak with him, there came in a hard-favored, little, old man, who looked as if time and rough weather had been to windward of him, for seventy years. he asked if my brother was not the executor. he replied, that he was administrator, as our father died intestate. 'well,' said the stranger, 'i've come up from the cape, to pay a debt i owed the old gentleman.' my brother," continued my informant, "requested him to take a seat, being, at the moment, engaged with other persons, at the desk." "the old man sat down, and, putting on his glasses, drew out a very ancient, leather pocket-book, and began to count over his money. when he had done--and there was quite a parcel of bank notes--as he sat, waiting his turn, slowly twisting his thumbs, with his old gray, meditative eyes upon the floor, he sighed; and i knew the money, as the phrase runs, _came hard_--and secretly wished the old man's name might be found, upon the forgiven list. my brother was soon at leisure, and asked him the common questions--his name, &c. the original debt was four hundred and forty dollars--it had stood a long time, and, with the interest, amounted to a sum, between seven and eight hundred. my brother went to his desk, and, after examining the forgiven list attentively, a sudden smile lighted up his countenance, and told me the truth, at a glance--the old man's name was there! my brother quietly took a chair, by his side, and a conversation ensued, between them, which i never shall forget.--'your note is outlawed,' said my brother; 'it was dated twelve years ago, payable in two years; there is no witness, and no interest has ever been paid; you are not bound to pay this note, we cannot recover the amount.' 'sir,' said the old man, 'i wish to pay it. it is the only heavy debt i have in the world. it may be outlawed here, but i have no child, and my old woman and i hope we have made our peace with god, and wish to do so with man. i should like to pay it'--and he laid his bank notes before my brother, requesting him to count them over. 'i cannot take this money,' said my brother. the old man became alarmed. 'i have cast simple interest, for twelve years and a little over,' said the old man. 'i will pay you compound interest, if you say so. the debt ought to have been paid, long ago, but your father, sir, was very indulgent--he knew i'd been unlucky, and told me not to worry about it.' "my brother then set the whole matter plainly before him, and, taking the bank bills, returned them to the pocket book, telling him, that, although our father left no formal will, he had recommended to his children, to destroy certain notes, due-bills, and other evidences of debt, and release those, who might be legally bound to pay them. for a moment the worthy old man appeared to be stupefied. after he had collected himself, and wiped a few tears from his eyes, he stated, that, from the time he had heard of our father's death, he had raked, and scraped, and pinched and spared, to get the money together, for the payment of this debt.--'about ten days ago,' said he, 'i had made up the sum, within twenty dollars. my wife knew how much the payment of this debt lay upon my spirits, and advised me to sell a cow, and make up the difference, and get the heavy burden off my spirits. i did so--and now, what will my old woman say! i must get back to the cape, and tell her this good news. she'll probably say over the very words she said, when she put her hand on my shoulder as we parted--_i have never yet seen the righteous man forsaken, nor his seed begging bread_.' after a hearty shake of the hand, and a blessing upon our old father's memory, he went upon his way rejoicing. "after a short silence--taking his pencil and making a cast--'there,' said my brother, 'your part of the amount would be so much--contrive a plan to convey to me your share of the pleasure, derived from this operation, and the money is at your service.'" such is the simple tale, which i have told, as it was told to me. no. lvi. "_take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be seen of them; otherwise ye have no reward of your father which is in heaven. therefore when thou doest thine alms, do not sound a trumpet before thee, as the hypocrites do, in the synagogues, and in the streets, that they may have glory of men. verily i say unto you, they have their reward. but when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth. that thine alms may be in secret: and thy father, which seeth in secret, himself shall reward thee openly._" this ancient word--_alms_--according to its derivative import, comprehends not only those _oboli_, which are given to the wandering poor, but all bestowments, great and small, in the blessed cause of charity. in the present age, how limited the number, whose moral courage and self-denial enable them to do their alms in secret, and without sounding a trumpet, as the hypocrites do! how many, impatient of delay, prefer an immediate reward--_to have glory of men_--rather than a long draft, upon far futurity, though god himself be the paymaster! the ability, to plan a magnificent, prospective charity, to provide the means for its consummation, to preserve inviolate the secret of this high and holy purpose, except from some confidential friend perhaps, until the noble and pure-minded benefactor himself is beyond the reach of all human praise--this is indeed a celestial and a rare accomplishment. my thoughts have been drawn hitherward, by the public announcement of certain testamentary donations of the late theodore lyman--ten thousand dollars to the horticultural society--ten thousand dollars to the farm school--and fifty thousand dollars to the reform school at westborough. the public have been long in doubt, who was the secret patron of that excellent establishment, upon which he had previously bestowed two and twenty thousand dollars.--while we readily admit, that, in these unostentatious and posthumous benefactions, there is every claim upon the grateful respect of the community--while we delight to cherish a sentiment of reverence, for the memory of a good man, who would not suffer the sound of his munificence to go forth, till he had descended to that grave, where there is no device, nor work, and where his ears must be closed forever to the world's applause--still there are some, who, doubtless, will marvel at these magnificent, noiseless, and posthumous appropriations. with a very small portion of the amounts, bestowed upon these institutions, what glory might have been had of men, aye, and in his own life time! by distributing the aggregate into comparatively petty sums--by the exercise of rather more than ordinary vigilance and cunning, in the selection of fitting opportunities, what a reputation mr. lyman might have obtained! he would not only have been preceded, by the sound of a trumpet, but every penny paper would have readily converted itself into a penny trumpet, to spread the fame of his showy benefactions. his name would have been in every mouth--aye, and on every omnibus and engine. add to all this a very small amount--a few hundred dollars, devoted to the procurement of plaster casts of himself, to be skilfully distributed, and verily he would have had his reward. the hon. theodore lyman is dead, and, today, my grateful and respectful dealings are with his memory. the practical benevolence of this gentleman has been well known to me, for years. there are quiet, unobtrusive charities, which are not likely to figure, in the daily journals, or to be known by any person, but the parties. for such as these i have occasionally solicited mr. lyman, and never in vain. on the other hand, there are individuals, whose names are forever before the public, in connection with some work, to be seen of men; but whose gold and silver, unless they are likely to glitter, _in transitu_, before the eye of the community, are parted with, reluctantly, if at all. this great public benefactor, upon the present occasion, seems to have said, in the gentle, unobtrusive whisperings of his noble spirit--"a portion of that, which god has permitted me to gather, i believe it is my bounden duty to return, into the treasury of the lord. this will i do. the secret shall remain, while i live, between god, who gives me this willing heart, and myself. and, when the world shall, at last, become unavoidably apprized of the fact, i shall have taken sanctuary in the grave, where the fulsome applause of the multitude can never reach me." between such apostolic charity as this, and certain flashy munificence, whose authors seem to be forever drawing drafts, at sight, and always _without grace_, upon the public, for fresh laudation--more votes of thanks--additional resolutions of all sorts of societies--and a more copious supply of vapid editorial adulation--between these, i say, there is all that real difference which exists, between the "gem of purest ray serene," and the wretched bristol imitation--between the flower that blooms and sends abroad its perfume in secret, and that corruption whose veritable character can never be concealed; and i may be suffered to say, as truly as jock jabos of his professional relations, that one of my calling may be supposed to know something of corruption, by this time. ----"my ear is pained, my soul is sick with every day's report" of _ad captandum_ benefactions. today, that generous benefactor, mr. pipkin, endows some village lyceum, which is destined forever to glory in the euphonious name of pipkin. tomorrow our illustrious fellow-citizen, mr. snooks, presents a bell to some village church, and, the very next week, we are told, that the bell was cracked, while ringing peals in honor of the munificent snooks. even the tonsons, whose ubiquity is a proverb, and whose inordinate relish for all sorts of notoriety surpasses their powers of munificence, are always in, for a pen'worth of this species of titillating snuff, at small cost. the hon. theodore lyman was born in boston, in . his father was theodore lyman, a shrewd, enterprising, and eminently successful merchant of this city. his mother's maiden name was lydia williams. she was a sister of samuel williams, the celebrated london banker. the subject of this brief notice received his preparatory education, at phillips exeter academy, under the charge of the venerable dr. abbott. he entered harvard university in , and took his degrees in the usual course. in , mr. lyman went to england, upon a visit to his maternal uncle, mr. williams, and, during his absence, travelled on the continent, with mr. edward everett, visiting greece, palestine, &c., and remaining abroad, until . he was in paris, when the allied armies entered that city. of this event he subsequently published an account, in a work, very pleasantly written, entitled _three weeks in paris_. in , or very near that period, mr. lyman married miss mary henderson of new york, a lady of rare personal beauty and accomplishments, who died in . the issue of this marriage were three daughters and a son, julia, mary, cora and theodore. the two last survive. the elder children, julia and mary, in language of beautiful significancy, have "gone before." mr. lyman published an octavo volume, on italy, and compiled two useful volumes, on the diplomacy of the united states with foreign nations. in and , mr. lyman was mayor of the city of boston. he brought to that office the manners of a refined and polished gentleman; the independence of a man of spirit and of honor; a true regard for justice and the rights of all men; a lofty contempt for all time-serving policy; talents of a highly respectable order; a mind well stored and well balanced; and a cordial desire, exemplified in his own personal and domestic relations, and by his encouraging word and open hand, of promoting the best interests of the great temperance reform. to the duties of this office, in which there is something less of glory than of toil, he devoted himself, during those two years, with great personal sacrifice and privation to those, whom he loved most. the period of his mayoralty was, by no means, a period of calm repose. those years were scored, by the spirit of misrule, with deep, dark lines of infamy. those years are memorable for the vandal outrage upon the ursuline convent, and the garrison riot; in which, a portion of the people of boston demonstrated the terrible truth, that they were not to be outdone in fury, even by the most furious abolitionist, who ever converted his stylus into a harpoon, and his inkhorn into a vial of wrath. mr. lyman, even in comparatively early life, filled the offices of a brigadier and major general of our militia; and was in our legislative councils. the temperament of mr. lyman was peculiar. frigid, and even formal, before the world, he was one of the most warm-hearted men, among the noiseless paths of charity, and in the closer relations of life. i have sometimes marvelled, where he bestowed his keen sensibility, while going through the rough and wearying detail of official duty. in the spring of we met accidentally, at the south--in the city of charleston. he was ill. his mind was ill at ease. he seemed to me, at that time, a practical illustration of the truth, that it is not good for man to be alone. yet he had been long stricken then, in his domestic relation. his chief anxiety seemed to be about the health of his little boy. he told me, that he lingered there on his account. i never knew a more devoted father. a gentleman, well-known to the community, by his untiring practical benevolence, to whom i applied for information, has sent me a reply, from which i must be permitted to extract one passage, for the benefit of the world--"i have known much of his benevolent acts, having been the frequent almoner of his bounty, with the injunction, '_keep it to yourself_.' he often called, and spent one or two hours, to converse on temperance, and the poor, and would spend a long winter evening in my office, to learn of me what my situation enabled me to communicate, and always left a check for $ or $ , to give to the howard, or some other society. in the severe winter weather, i remarked that he would say, '_this weather makes one feel for the poor_.' he often sent his man with provisions to the houses of the destitute, and had a heart to feel for others' woe." he has gone! but the memory of this good man shall never go! it shall be embalmed in the grateful tears of the reformed, from age to age. thousands, now unborn, shall be snatched, like brands from the burning, through the agency of this heavenly charity; and, as they turn from the walls of this noble institution, in a moral sense, regenerate, they shall bless the name of their noble benefactor; and thus raise and perpetuate, to the memory of theodore lyman, the _monumentum ære perennius_. no. lvii. it is scarcely credible, for what peccadilloes, life was forfeited, by the laws of england, within the memory of men, now living. one hundred and sixty offences, which may be committed by man, have been declared, by different acts of parliament, to be felony, without benefit of clergy; that is, punishable with death. it is truly wonderful, that, in the eighteenth century, it should have been a capital offence, in england, to break down the mound of a fish pond--to cut down a cherry tree in an orchard--or to be seen, for one month, in the company of those, who called themselves egyptians. we constantly refer to the laws of draco, the archon of athens, as a code of unequalled cruelty; under whose operation, crimes of the highest order, and the most trifling offences, were punished, with equal severity. draco punished murder with death, and he punished idleness with death. the laws of england punished murder with death, and they punished theft, over the value of twelve pence, with death. what is the necessity of going back to the time of draco, years before christ, for examples of inhuman, and absurdly inconsistent legislation? the marquis of beccaria, in his treatise, _de delitti e delle pene_, seems to have awakened legislators from a trance, in , by propounding the simple inquiry--_ought not punishments to be proportioned to crimes, and how shall that proportion be established?_ a matter, so apparently simple, seems not to have been thought of before. sir samuel romilly, sir james mackintosh, and sir robert peel are entitled to great praise, for their efforts to soften and humanize the criminal code of great britain. the distinction, between grand and petty larceny, was not abolished, until , when, by the act th and th geo. iv. chap. , theft was made punishable by transportation, or imprisonment and whipping. by this statute, robbery from the person, burglary, stealing in a dwelling-house to the value of £ , stealing cattle, and sheep-stealing are made punishable with death. so that the punishment was, even then, the same, for murdering a man, and stealing a sheep, or £ from a dwelling-house. death, by this statute, was also the punishment for arson, for setting fire to coal mines, and ships; and for riotously demolishing buildings or machinery. in the following year, , by the act th geo. iv. ch. , death is made the punishment, for murder, maliciously shooting, cutting and maiming, administering poison, attempting to drown, suffocate, &c., and for rape and sodomy. by this act, more than fifty statutes, relative to offences against the person, are repealed. the act th geo. iv. and st will. iv. ch. , passed in , abolishes capital punishment, in all cases of forgery, excepting forgery of the royal seals, exchequer bills, bank notes, wills, bills of exchange, promissory notes, or money orders, transfers of stock, and powers of attorney. death remained the penalty for all these forgeries, in , and, for all other forgeries, transportation and imprisonment. two years after, in , another step was taken. by d will. iv. ch. , capital punishment was abolished, and transportation and imprisonment substituted, for all offences, relative to the coin. this was a prodigious stride. this gave us a great hope, that misguided murderers might finally be suffered to live in security, at least, from the halter: for no object had been of greater moment with the british nation, than the coin of the realm, and the death penalty had often been exacted from those, who had dared to clip or counterfeit that sacred representative of majesty. the principle is well established, that men, who fly from one extreme, _in contraria currunt_. we trusted, therefore, that extremely lenient legislation would supervene, upon its very opposite. we had great confidence in a system of "indefatigable teasing," as butler calls it. in the same year, , by d and d will. iv. ch. , capital punishment was abolished, in cases of stealing from a dwelling-house to the value of £ , and sheep-stealing; and by the same act, ch. , capital punishment was abolished, in all cases of forgery, excepting in the cases of wills, and powers of attorney for stock. in , by d and th will. iv. ch. , capital punishment was abolished in case of dwelling-house robbery; repealing so much of the larceny act of . our good friends in england next thought it expedient to divest the process of hanging, of all its postmortuary terrors. i have heard of condemned persons, who expressed a greater horror, at the thought of being dissected, than of being hanged. it was deemed proper, therefore, to relieve the unfortunates, on this tender point. accordingly, in , by th will. iv. ch. , dissecting murderers, and hanging them, in chains, were abolished. it had been the law of england, that all persons returning, _sua sponte_, after transportation, should be hanged. but experience has shown how deep is the affection, which convicts bear to their former haunts, their native land. it is a perfect _nostalgia_. this law was therefore repealed, in , by th and th will. iv. ch. . in , by th and th will. iv. ch. , sundry felonies, never before deemed bailable offences, were made so, notwithstanding the parties confessed themselves guilty. sacrilege and letter-stealing had long been capital offences in england. in the same year, they were no longer punished with death. we had great hopes from victoria. in , vic. ch. , she began, by abolishing the pillory entirely;--and ch. , capital punishment is abolished, in all cases of forgery;--ch. , capital punishment is inflicted, for administering poison, or doing bodily injury with intent to mutilate; but other acts, with intent to murder, or maim, or disfigure, are punished with different degrees of transportation and imprisonment.--ch. takes away capital punishment, in burglary, unless accompanied with violence.--ch. takes away capital punishment, in case of robbery, unless attended with cutting or wounding. ch. leaves the punishment of death, transportation or imprisonment, to the discretion of the court, in case of piracy, where murder is attempted. ch. varies the laws of arson, making arson a capital offence, in regard to a dwelling-house, _any person being therein_.--ch. abolishes capital punishment in cases of riotous assemblies, seducing from allegiance, and certain offences against the revenue laws. it is rather surprising, that there is such a general prejudice throughout the world, in favor of putting murderers to death. the bible is an awful stumbling block, in this respect. we are also reminded that solon, when he abolished the code of draco, retained the punishment of death, in the case of murder. i have never thought much of solon, since i became acquainted with this weak point in his character. a writer in the edinburgh review, vol. , p. , speaking of death as the punishment for murder, observes--"the intense desire which now actuates a portion of the community, to get rid of capital punishment even for murder, may be taken as an indication of this excessive sensibility. the propriety of that punishment in the given case, would certainly appear to be distinctly sanctioned by that book, to which its opponents professedly appeal--by reason--and by the all but universal practice of nations. it is the only certain guarantee which society can have for the security of its members." here we have it again--"that book"--the bible. it cannot be denied that the bible, or solon, or sir matthew hale, or somebody else, is everlastingly in the way of this and other modern, philanthropic movements. what was solon, in comparison with david crockett--we are sure we are right, and why should we not go ahead? for my own part, i have never been able to perceive the wisdom of attempting to conceal any of our prospective movements. indeed, our future course must be sufficiently apparent, at a glance. when we have _agitated_, until capital punishment is abolished, and we have had a commemorative celebration, with emblematical banners, and an hundred guns on the common, nothing will be further from our thoughts, than a dissolution, sine die. one of our chief arguments in favor of abolishing capital punishment, is the greater hardship of a life-long imprisonment. availing of this argument, we shall be able to show, that we have placed these unfortunates, in a worse condition than before. a petition will be presented to the governor and council, from five thousand unhappy murderers, ravishers, house-burners, burglars and highway robbers--such we think will be the number, in a few years--representing their miserable condition, and respectfully requesting to be hanged, under the influence of ether or otherwise, as to the governor and council may seem fit. we shall then _agitate_ anew, and endeavor, through public meetings and the press, to exhibit the barbarity of refusing their humble request. this, we well enough know, will not be granted; and the only escape from the dilemma, will be to suffer them, to go at large, upon their parole of honor. it will not, of course, be expected, that this parole will be received from any, who cannot produce a certificate, under the hand of the warden, that they have committed no murder, rape, arson, burglary, or highway robbery, during the period of their confinement in the state prison. no. lviii. the late archbishop of bordeaux, when bishop of boston, dr. cheverus, told me, that he had very little influence with his people, in regard to their extravagance at funerals. it is very hard to persuade them to abate the tithe of a hair, in the cost of a _birril_. this post-mortuary profligacy, this pride of death, is confined to no age or nation of the world. it has prevailed, ever since chaos was licked into shape, and throughout all heathendom and christendom, begetting a childish and preposterous competition, who should bear off the corpses of their relations, most showily, and cause them to rot, most expensively. this amazing folly has often required, and received, the sumptuary curb of legislation. i have briefly referred, in a former number, to the restraining edicts of the law-givers of greece, and the laws of the twelve tables at rome. even here, and among the earlier records of our own country, evidences are not wanting, that the attention of our worthy ancestors had been attracted to the subject of funereal extravagance. at a meeting, held in faneuil hall, october , , at which the hon. james otis was the moderator, the following resolution was passed: "_and we further agree strictly to adhere to the late regulations respecting funerals, and will not use any gloves but what are manufactured here, nor procure any new garments, upon such occasions, but what shall be absolutely necessary_." this resolution was passed, _inter alia similia_, with reference to the stamp act of , and as part of the system of non-importation. there is probably no place like england--no city like london, for funereal parade and extravagance. the church, to use the fox-hunting phrase, must be _in at the death_; and how truly would a simple funeral, without pageantry, in some sort--a cold, unceremonious burial, without mutes, and streamers, and feathers--without bell, book, or candle--flout and scandalize the gorgeous church of england! the church and the state are connected, so intimately and indissolubly connected, that he, who dies in the arms of mother church, must permit that particular old lady, in the matter of his funeral, to indulge her ruling passion, for costly forms and ceremonies. it is more than forty years, since, with infinite delight, i first read that effusion--outpouring--splendid little eruption, if you like--of walter scott's, called llewellyn. apart from all context, a single stanza is to my present purpose; i give it from memory, where it has clung, for forty years: when a prince to the fate of a peasant has yielded, the tapestry waves dark, round the dim lighted pall, with scutcheons of silver the coffin is shielded, and pages stand mute in the canopied hall. through the vault, at deep midnight, the torches are gleaming, in the proudly arched chapel the banners are beaming, far adown the long aisle sacred music is streaming, lamenting a chief of the people should fall. in all this, the nobility ape royalty, the gentry the nobility, the commonalty the gentry: and there is no estate so low, as not, in this particular, to account the death of a near relative a perfect justification of extravagance. there is scarcely one in a thousand, i believe, who has any just idea of the amount, annually lavished upon funerals, in great britain; or of the extraordinary fact, that joint stock burial companies exist there, and declare excellent dividends. in , at the request of her majesty's principal secretary of state, for the home department, edwin chadwick, esquire, drew up "a report on the results of a special inquiry into the practice of interment, in towns." mr. chadwick states, that, _upon a moderate calculation, the sum annually expended in funeral expenses, in england and wales, is five millions of pounds sterling_, and that four of these millions may be justly set down as expended on the mere fopperies of death. evelyn says, that his mother requested his father, on her death bed, to bestow upon the poor, whatever he had designed, for the expenses of her funeral. speaking of this abominable misapplication of money, a writer, in the london quarterly review, vol. , p. , exclaims--"to what does it go? to silk scarfs and brass nails--feathers for the horses--kid gloves and gin for the mutes--white satin and black cloth for the worms. and whom does it benefit? not those, whose unfeigned sorrow makes them callous, at the moment, to its show, and almost to its mockery--not the cold spectator, who sees its dull magnificence give the lie to the preacher's equality of death--but the lowest of all hypocrites, the hired mourner, &c." it is calculated by mr. chadwick, that £ to £ are necessary to bury an upper tradesman--£ for a gentleman--£ to £ for a nobleman. high profits were obtained, by the joint stock burial companies in england, in . the sale of graves in one cemetery was at the rate of £ , per acre, and a calculation, made for another, gave £ , per acre, not including fees for monuments, &c. one company, says mr. chadwick, has set forth an estimate, that seven acres, at the rate of ten coffins, in one grave, would accommodate , , --one million three hundred and thirty-five thousand--paupers. the following interrogatory was put, and repeated by members of the parliamentary committee, to the witnesses: "_do you think there would be any objection to burying bodies with a certain quantity of quick lime, sufficient to destroy the coffin and the whole thing in a given time?_" in , mr. j. c. loudon published, in london, his work on the managing of cemeteries and the improvement of churchyards. the cool, philosophic style, in which mr. loudon handles this interesting subject, is rather remarkable. on page , he expatiates, as follows: "_this temporary cemetery may be merely a field, rented on a twenty-one years' lease, of such an extent, as to be filled with graves in fourteen years. at the end of seven years more it may revert to the landlord, and be cultivated, planted, or laid down in grass, or in any manner that may be thought proper. nor does there appear to us any objection to union workhouses having a portion of their garden ground used as a cemetery, to be restored to cultivation, after a sufficient time had elapsed._" this certainly is doing the utilitarian thing, with a vengeance. quite a novel rotation of crops--cabbages following corpses. my long experience assures me, that the rapidity of decomposition depends, upon certain qualities in the subject and in the soil. skeletons are sometimes found, in tolerably perfect condition, after an inhumation of two hundred years. perhaps mr. loudon, in his eager festination for a crop, may have determined to bury in quicklime. paupers and quicklime would make a capital compost, and scarcely require a top-dressing, of any kind, for years. what beets! what carrots, for the cockney market! notwithstanding the quicklime, i should rather fear an occasional envelopment of some _unlucky_ relic, in the guise of a _lucky_ bone--a grinder, perhaps. and, when these vegetables shall again have been converted into animals, and these animals shall have served their day and generation, they shall again be converted into cabbages and carrots, as all their predecessors were. well, this mr. loudon is a practical fellow; and his metastasis is admirable. here are thousands of miserable wretches--_nullorum fiilii_, many of them--they have contributed scarcely anything to the common weal, while living; now let us put them in the way, with the assistance of a little quicklime, of doing something for their fellow-beings, after they are dead. the pauper squashes and cabbages must have been at a premium, in leadenhall market. imagination is clearly worth something. after all my reason can accord, in the way of respect, for these utilitarian notions, i solemnly protest against marrowfats, cultivated in mr. loudon's pauper hotbeds. no doubt they would be larger, and the flavor richer and more peculiar--nevertheless, mr. loudon must excuse me--i say i protest. he gives an alternative permission, to lay down his mixture of dead bodies and quicklime to grass, or for the pasture of cows. even then the milk would have a suspicious flavor, or _post-mortem_ smell, i apprehend; it would be the same thing, by second intention, as the surgeons say. the explanation of mr. loudon's monstrous proposition can be found nowhere, but in his concentrated interest in agriculture, to which he would have the living and the dead alike contribute. when contemplating the corpse of a portly pauper, he seems to think of nothing, but the readiest mode of converting it into cabbages. i have heard of a cutaneous fellow, who had an irresistible fancy, for skinning animals--it had become a passion. nothing came amiss to him. he sought with avidity, for every four-footed and creeping thing, that died within five miles of his dwelling, for the pleasure of skinning it. the insides of his apartments were covered with the expanded skins, not only of beasts and the lesser vermin, but of birds, serpents and fishes. his house was an exuvial museum. he had a little son, a mere child, who assisted his father, on these occasions, in a small way. he had the misfortune to lose his grandmother--a fine old lady--and the following brief colloquy occurred, between the father and the child, the day before she was buried: "i say, father." "what, peter?" "when are you going to skin granny?" no. lix. last sabbath morning, i read cicero's _dialogus de amicitia_--simple latinity, and very short-- sections only. it seemed like enjoying the company of an old friend. it is now just forty-seven years, since i first read it, at exeter. i marvel at montaigne, for not thinking highly of it--but find some little motive, in the fact, that he had written a tract upon the subject, himself, which may be found, in his first volume, page , london, , and which can no more be compared to the _dialogus_, than--to use george colman's expression--a mummy to hyperion. the dialogus de amicitia, of a sabbath morning! aye, my reverend, orthodox brother. not having, in my system, one pulse of sympathy for disorganization, and liberty parties, i reverence the holy sabbath, as much as you do yourself; and, to prevent the _dialogus_ from hurting me, i read one sermon before, and another immediately after--jeremy taylor's _apples of sodom_; and fléchier's _sur la correction fraternelle_--such sermons, as, in the concoction, would, perhaps, be very likely to burst your mental boiler, and which would not suit the appetites of many, modern congregations, who have ruined their powers of inwardly digesting such strong meat, by dieting upon theological _fricandises faites avec du sucre_. and you was not at meeting then! right again, my dear brother. i am deaf as a haddock; though sir thomas browne has annihilated this favorite standard of comparison, by assuring us, that a haddock has as good ears, as any other fish in the sea. mine, however, are quite unscriptural--ears not to hear. my ear is all in my eye. roscius boasted of his power to convey his meaning, by mute gesticulation. our modern clergy have so little of this gift, that, with my impracticable ears, it is all dumb show for me. now and then, when the wind is fair, i catch a word or two; and no cross-readings were ever more grotesque and comical, than my cross-hearings. i am convinced, that i do not always have the worst of it. when, in reply to an old lady, who once asked me how i liked the preacher, i told her i heard not a syllable--what a mercy! she exclaimed. but consider the example! true, there is something in that. try the experiment--stop the _meatus auditorius_ with beeswax, and try it, for half a dozen sabbaths, even with the knowledge, that you can remove the impediment at will, which i cannot! after i had finished the _dialogus_, i found myself successfully engaged, in the process of mental exhumation:--up they came, one after another, the playmates of my childhood, with their tee-totums and merry-andrews--the companions of my boyhood, with their tops, kites, and marbles--the friends and associates of my youth, with their skates, bats, and fowling pieces. it is really quite pleasant to gather a party, upon such short notice, and with so little effort; and without the trouble of providing wine and sweetmeats. upon the very threshold of manhood, how they scatter and disperse! there is a passage of the dialogus--the tenth section--which is so true to life, at the present hour, that one can scarcely realize it was written, before the birth of christ:--"ille (scipio) quidem nihil dificilius esse dicebat, quam amicitiam usque ad extremum vitæ permanere. nam vel ut non idem expediret utrique, incidere sæpe; vel ut de republica non idem sentirent; mutari etiam mores hominum sæpe dicebat, alias adversis rebus, alias ætate ingravescente. atque earum rerum exemplum ex similitudine capiebat incuentis ætatis, quod summi puerorum amores sæpe una cum prætexta ponerentur; sin autem ad adolescentiam perduxissent, dirimi tamen interdum contentione, vel uxoriæ conditionis, vel commodi allicujus, quod idem adipisci uterque non posset. quod si qui longius in amicitia provecti essent, tamen sæpe labefactari, si in honoris contentionem incidissent: pestem esse nullam amicitiis, quam in plerisque pecuniæ cupiditatem, in optimis quibusque honoris certamen et gloriæ: ex quo inimicitias maximas sæpe inter amicissimos extitisse." lord rochester said, that nothing was ever benefited, by translation, but a bishop. this, nevertheless, i believe, is a fair translation of the passage-- he (scipio) said, that nothing was more difficult, than for friendship to continue to the very end of life: either because its continuance was found to be inexpedient for one of the parties, or on account of political differences. he remarked, that men's humors were apt to be affected, sometimes, by adverse fortune, and at others, by the heavy listlessness of age. he drew an example of these things, from a similar condition in youth--the most vehement attachments, among boys, were commonly laid aside with the prætexta, or at the age of maturity; or, if continued beyond that period, they were occasionally interrupted, by some contention about the state or condition of the wife, or the possessions or advantages of somebody, which the other party was unable to equal. indeed, if some there were, whose friendship was drawn along to a later period, it was very apt to be weakened, if they became rivals, in the path of fame. the greatest bane of friendship, among the mass, was the love of money, and among some, of the better sort, the thirst for glory; by which the bitterest hatred had been generated, between those, who had been the greatest friends. unless it be orthodoxy, nothing has been so variously defined, as _friendship_. a man who stands by, and sees another murdered, in a duel, is his _friend_. mutual endorsers are _friends_. partisans are the _friends_ of the candidate. those gentlemen, who give their time and talents to eat and drink up some wealthy fool, who would pass for an amphytrion, and laugh at the fellow's simplicity, behind his back, are his _friends_. the patrons of players and buffoons, signors and signorinas, are their _friends_. the venders of havana cigars and bologna sausages inform their _friends_ and patrons, that they have recently received a fresh supply. marat was the _friend_ of the people. eliphaz, bildad, and zophar were the _friends_ of job; and he told them rather uncivilly, i think, that they were miserable comforters. matthew speaks of a _friend_ of publicans and sinners. monsieur megret, who, as voltaire relates, the instant charles xii. was killed, exclaimed--_voila la piece finie, allons souper_--see, the play is over, let us go to supper, was the king's _friend_. william the first, like other kings, had many _friends_, who, the moment he died, ran away, and literally left the dead to bury the dead; of which a curious account may be found, in the harleian miscellany, vol. iii. page , london, . friendship flourishes, at christmas and new year, for every one, we are told, in the book of proverbs, is a _friend_ to him that giveth gifts. there seems to be no end to this enumeration of _friends_. the name is legion, to say nothing of the whole society of _friends_. what then could aristotle have meant, when he exclaimed, as diogenes laertius says he did, lib. v. sec. , _my friends, there is no such thing as a friend_? menander is stated by plutarch, in his tract, on brotherly love, cap. , to have proclaimed that man happy, who had found even _the shadow of a friend_? it would be hard to describe the friend, whom aristotle and menander had in mind. cicero has employed twenty-seven sections, and given us an imperfect definition after all. such a friend comes not, within any one of the categories i have named. _friends_, in the common acceptation of that word, may be readily lost and won. the direction, ascribed to rochefoucault, seems less revolting, when applied to such _friends_ as these--_to treat all one's friends, as if, one day, they might be foes, and all one's foes, as if, one day, they might be friend_. this cold-blooded axiom is rochefoucault's, only by adoption. aristotle, in his rhetoric, lib. ii. cap. , and diogenes laertius, in his life of bias, lib. i. sec. , ascribe something like this saying to him. cicero, in the sixteenth section of the _dialogus de amicitia_, after referring to the opinion--"_ita amare oportere, ut si aliquando esset ossurus_," and stating scipio's abhorrence of the sentiment, expresses his belief, that it never proceeded from so good and wise a man, as bias. aulus gellius, lib. i. cap. , imputes to chilon, one of the seven wise men of greece, substantially, the same sentiment--"_love him, as if you were one day to hate him, and hate him, as if you were one day to love him_." poor rochefoucault, who had sins enough to answer for, is as unjustly held to be author of this infernal sentiment, as was dr. guillotin of the instrument, that bears his ill-fated name. boccacio was in the right--_there is a skeleton in every house_. we have, all of us, our crosses to carry; and should strive to bear them as gracefully, as comports with the infirmity of human nature; and among the most severe is the loss of an old friend. aristotle was mistaken--there is such a thing as a friend. some fifty years ago, i began to have a friend--our professions and pursuits were similar. for some fifty years, we have cherished a feeling of mutual affection and respect; and, now that we have retired from the active exercise of our craft, we daily meet together, and, like a brace of veteran grasshoppers, chirp over days bygone. i believe i never asked of my friend an unreasonable or unseemly thing. god knows he never did of me. thus we have obeyed cicero's first law of friendship--_hæc igitur prima lex in amicitia sanciatur, ut neque rogemus res turpes, nec faciamus, rogati_. we are most happily adapted to each other. i have always taken pleasure in regurgitating, from the fourth stomach of the mind, some tale or anecdote, and chewing over the cud of pleasant fancy. no man ever had a friend with a more willing ear, or a shorter memory. but for this, which i have always accounted a providence, my stock would have been exhausted, long ago. after lying fallow, for two or three months, every tale is as good as new. god bless my friend, and compensate the shortness of his memory, by giving him length of days, and every good thing, in this and a better world. no. lx. much has been said and written, of late, here and elsewhere, on the subject of _intra mural_ interment--burial within the _walls_ or _confines_ of cities. this term, though commonly employed by british writers, is wholly inapplicable, in all those rural cities, which have recently sprung up among us, and in which there are still many broad acres of meadow and pasture, plough-land and forest. in these almost nominal cities, the question must be, in relation to the propriety of burying the dead, not within the confines, but in the more densely peopled portions--in the very midst of the living. i have an opinion, firmly fixed, and long cherished, upon this important subject; and, considering myself, professionally, an expert, in these matters, i shall devote the present article to their consideration. there is no doubt, that a cemetery, from its improper location, or the mass of putrefying material, which the madness, or folly, or avarice of its proprietors has accumulated there, or from the indecent and almost superficial deposition of half-buried corpses, may become, like the burden of our sins--_intolerable_. it is not less certain, that it may become a _public nuisance_--not merely in the _popular_ sense--but _legally_, and, as such, indictable at common law. neither can there be any doubt, that the city authorities, without a resort to the process of indictment, and as conservators of the public health, have full power, to prevent all future interments in that cemetery. this is true of a cemetery in the suburbs--_a fortiori_, of a cemetery in the city. at the present day, it may seem astonishing to many, that any doubt ever prevailed, in the minds of respectable members of the medical faculty, as to the unhealthy influences of the effluvia, arising from _animal_ corruption. orfila, parant duchâtelet, and other frenchmen, of high professional reputation, have maintained, that such effluvia are perfectly innocuous. it seems to be almost universally agreed, at the present day, to reject such extraordinary doctrines entirely; although it is admitted, by the highest authorities, that the exhalations from _vegetable_ corruption are the more pernicious of the two. so far as the decision of this question concerns the remedy, by legal process, it is of no absolute importance. the popular impression, that exhalations, of any kind, cannot constitute a _public nuisance_, in the technical import of those words, unless those exhalations are injurious to health, is erroneous. lord mansfield held this not to be necessary; and that it was enough, if the air were so affected, as to be breathed by the public, with less comfort and pleasure, than before. interment, beyond the confines of the city, was enjoined, some eighteen hundred years ago. it was decreed in rome, by the twelve tables--_hominem mortuum in urbe ne sepelito_. a writer, in the london quarterly review, vol. , p. , has written, very ably, on this interesting topic. he supplies some facts of importance, connected with the history of interment. a. d. .--the theodosian code forbade all interment within the walls of the city, and even ordered, that all the bodies and monuments, already placed there, should be carried out. a. d. .--the first clause was confirmed by justinian. a. d. .--the council of brague decreed, that no dead body should be buried, within the circle of the city walls. a. d. .--the council of auxerre decreed, that no one should be buried in their temples. a. d. .--charlemagne decreed, that no person should be buried in a church. a. d. .--the council of winchester decreed, that no person should be buried in the churches. a. d. .--latimer, on saint luke vii. ii., says, "the citizens of nain had their burying places without the city; and i do marvel, that london, being so great a city, hath not a burial place without," &c. a. d. .--charles borromeo, the good bishop of milan, ordered the return to the ancient custom of suburban cemeteries. sir matthew hale used to say, "churches were made for the living, not for the dead." the learned anthony rivet observed--"i wish this custom, which covetousness and superstition first brought in, were abolished; and that the ancient custom were revived to have burying places, in the free and open fields, without the gates of cities." in , fifteen archbishops, bishops, and others, ecclesiastical commissioners, in london, recommended the abolition of all burials in churches. at great expense, the city government of roxbury have judiciously selected a spot, eminently beautiful, and remote from the peopled portion of the city, for the burial of the dead. the great argument--the manifest motive--was _a just regard for the health of their constituents_. if the present nuisance should continue much longer, and grow much greater, may not the question be respectfully asked, with some little pertinency, _what has become of that just regard?_ surely there is no lack of power. in , the government of boston said to the town of roxbury, not in the language of david to moab--thou shalt be "_my wash pot_"--but thou shalt be the receptacle of our offal--of all, that is filthy, and corruptible, within our borders. the city government of boston went extensively then into the carrion and garbage business, and furnished the provant for a legion of hogs, the property of an influential citizen of roxbury. this awful hoggery was located on the road, now called east street. the carrion carts of the metropolis of new england, _eundo, redeundo, et manendo_, dropping filth and fatness, as they went, became an abominable nuisance; and, as commodore trunnion beat up to church, on his wedding day, so every citizen, as soon as he discovered one of these aromatic vehicles, drawn by six or eight horses, tossing up their heads, and snorting sympathetically, was obliged to close-haul his nose, and struggle for the weather gage. then again, the proprietor of this colossal hog-sty, with his burnery of bones, and other fragrant contrivances, created a stench, unknown among men, since the bituminous conflagration of the cities of the plain--sodom and gomorrah; and which terrible stench, in the language of sternhold & hopkins, "_came flying all abroad_." in the keeping of the varying wind, this "_arria cattiva_," like that from a graveyard, surcharged with half-buried corpses, visited, from day to day, every dwelling, and nauseated every man, woman, and child in the village. four town meetings were held, upon this subject. roxbury calmly remonstrated,--boston doggedly persisted; and, at last, patience having had its perfect work, the carrion carts, while attempting to enter roxbury, were met, by the yeomanry, on the line, and driven back to boston. chief justice shaw having refused an application for an _injunction_, the complaint was brought before the grand jury of norfolk. bills were found, against the owner of the hogs, and the city of boston. my learned and amiable friend, the late john pickering, then the city solicitor, defended them both, with great ability; and the present judge merrick, then county attorney, opposed the whole swinish concern, with the spirit of an israelite, and the power of a rabbi. the owner of the hogs and the city of boston were both duly convicted, and, entering into a written obligation to sin no more, in this wise, the indictment was held over them, for a reasonable period, until they had given satisfactory evidence of their sincerity. in the testimony of dr. george cheyne shattuck, which was published, at the time, after sustaining the prosecutors amply, in their allegation, in respect to the deleterious effect of the nuisance, he remarks--"_the creator has established, in the sense of smelling, a sentinel, to descry distant danger of life. the alarm, sounded through this organ, seldom passes unheeded, with impunity._" dr. john c. warren and sixteen other respectable physicians concurred in this opinion. no. lxi. how long--oh lord--how long will thy peculiar people disregard the simple, unmistakable teachings of common sense, and the admonitions of their own, proper noses, and bury the dead, in the very midst of the living!--above all, how long will they continue to perpetrate that hideous folly of burying the dead, in tombs! what a childish effort, to keep the worm at bay--to stave off corruption, yet a little while--to procrastinate the payment of nature's debt, at maturity--dust thou art and unto dust thou shalt return!--for what? that the poor, senseless tabernacle may have a few more months or years, to rot in--that friends and relatives may, from time to time, be enabled, upon every re-opening of the tomb, to gratify their morbid curiosity, and see how the worms are getting on--that, whenever the tomb is unbarred, for another and another tenant, as it may often happen, at the time, when corruption is doing its utmost--its rankest work--the foul quintessence--the reeking, deleterious gases may rush back upon the living world; and, blending with ten thousand kindred stenches, in a densely peopled city, promote the mighty work of pestilence and death. who does not sympathize with cowper! oh for a lodge, in some vast wilderness, some boundless contiguity of shade, where the atrocious smells of docks, and sewers, eruptive gas, and rank distillery may never reach me more. my lungs are pain'd, my nose is sick, with this eternal stench of corpse and carrion, with which earth is fill'd. i am not unmindful, that, in a former number of these dealings with the dead, i have passed over these burial-grounds, and partially exhibited the interior of these tombs already. but there really seems to be a great awakening, upon this subject, at the present moment, at home and abroad; and i rejoice, that it is so. i am aware, that, within the bounds of old, peninsular boston, no inhumations--_burials in graves_--are permitted. this is well.--_burials in tombs_ are still allowed.--why? this mode of burial is much more offensive. in _grave burial_, the gases percolate gradually; and a considerable portion may be reasonably supposed to be neutralized, _in transitu_. this is unquestionably the case, unless the grave is kept open, or opened, six times, or more, on the speculation principle, for the reception of new customers. in _tomb burial_, it is otherwise. the tomb is opened for new comers, and sometimes, most inopportunely, and the horrible smell fills the atmosphere, and compels the neighboring inhabitants, to close their windows and doors. as, with some persons, this may seem to require authentication, without leading the reader to every offensive graveyard in this city, i will take a single, and a sufficient example--i will take the oldest graveyard in the commonwealth, and the most central, in the city of boston. i refer to isaac johnson's lot, where, in , his bones were laid--the chapel burying-ground. the savings bank building bounds upon that cemetery. the rooms of the massachusetts historical society are over the bank. the stench, produced, by burials in the tombs, in that yard, during the summer of , has compelled the librarian to close his windows. _tomb burial_, in this yard, has not been limited to deceased proprietors, and their relatives; it has, in some instances, been a matter of traffic. i have been struck with the present arrangement of the gravestones, in this yard. some ingenious person has removed them all, from their original positions, and actually planted them, "_all of a row_," like the four and twenty fiddlers--or rather, in four straight rows, near the four sides of the graveyard. this is a queerer metamorphosis, than any i ever read of. ovid has nothing to compare with it. there they are, every one, with its "_here lies_," &c., compelled to stand forever, a monument of falsehood. of all the pranks, ever perpetrated in a graveyard, this, surely, is the most amusing. in defiance of the _lex loci_, which rightfully enjoins solemnity of demeanor, in such a place--and of all my reverence for isaac johnson, and those illustrious men, who slumber there, i was actually seized with a fit of uncontrollable laughter; and came to the conclusion, that this sacrilegious transposition must have been the work of punch, or puck, or some lord of misrule. as i proceeded to read the inscriptions, my merriment increased, for the gravestones seemed to be conferring together, upon the subject of these extraordinary changes, which had befallen them; and repeating over to one another--"_as you are now, so once was i_." as it happened, in the case of major pitcairn, should any person desire to remove the ashes of his ancestor, these misplaced gravestones would surely lead to the awakening of the wrong passenger; and some venerable old lady, who died in her bed, may be transported to england, and buried under arms, for a major of infantry, who died in battle. why continue to bury in tombs? _surely the sufferance on the part of the city government, does not arise, from a respect for vested rights!!!_ if the city government has power to close the offensive cellars in broad street, and elsewhere, being private property, because they are accounted injurious to public health, why may they not close the tombs, being private property, for the very same reason? considerations of public health are paramount. when, upon an application from a number of the liquor-sellers, wholesale and retail, in this city, chancellor kent gave his opinion, adverse to their hearts' desire, that the license laws were _constitutional_, he alluded, analogically, to the power of the commonwealth, to pass sanatory laws. if the municipal power were deemed inadequate, legislation would give all the power required. for it would, indeed, be monstrous, having settled the fact, that the public health suffered, from burial in tombs, to suppose it a remediless evil. the slaughter-houses and tanneries, which once existed, in kilby street and dock square, would not be tolerated now. originally, they were not nuisances. population gathered around them--their precedency availed them nothing--they became nuisances, by the force of circumstances. the tombs, in the churchyard, were not nuisances, when population was sparse--though they are so now. but the fact i have stated will increase the evil, from day to day: there can be no more burials, in graves, within the city proper--people will die--and, as we have not the taste nor courage to burn--they must be buried--where? in the tombs--which, as i have stated, is the most offensive and mischievous mode of burial. i have already alluded to some instances of traffic, connected with certain tombs, in the chapel yard. if some plan be not adopted, a new line of business will spring up, in which the members of my profession will figure, to some extent: many of the present owners of tombs will sell out, and move their dead to mount auburn, or forest hills; and the city tombs will be crammed with as many corpses, as they can hold, by their speculating proprietors. rather than this, it would have been better to continue the old mode of earth burial. the remedy is plain--the fields are before you--_carry out_ "your dead!" a famous preacher of eternal torment, and who always, in addition to the sulphurous complexion of his discourses throughout, devoted three or four pages, at the close, exclusively to brimstone and fire; is said, upon a special occasion, to have produced a prodigious effect, upon the more devoted of his intensely agitated flock, by causing the sexton, when he heard the preacher scream brimstone, at the top of his lungs, to throw two or three rolls, into the furnace below, whose fumes speedily ascended into the church. this anecdote came instantly to my recollection, some twenty years ago, one sabbath morning, while attending the services in st. paul's church, in this city. the rector was absent, and a very worthy clergyman supplied his place. in the course of his sermon, he repeated, in a very solemn tone, pointing downward with his finger, in the direction of the tombs below, those memorable words of job--_if i wait, the grave is mine house: i have made my bed in darkness. i have said to corruption, thou art my father: to the worm, thou art my mother and my sister._ almost immediately--the coincidence was wonderful--i was oppressed by a most offensive stench, which certainly seemed to be _germain_ to the subject. it became more and more powerful. it seemed to me, and i call myself a pretty good judge, to be posthumous, decidedly. i certainly believed it proceeded from the charnel house below. my eyes turned right and left, to see how my neighbors were impressed. the females bowed their heads, and used their handkerchiefs--the males were evidently aware of it; but, with a slight compression of their noses, kept their eyes fixed upon the preacher. two medical gentlemen, then present, and yet living, pronounced it to be _the worm and corruption_, and connected it with the burial of a particular individual, not long before. the case was carefully investigated, by the wardens and others; who were perfectly satisfied, that this horrible effluvium was, very probably, produced, by the burning of a heretic, in the form of a church mouse, that had taken up his quarters, in the pipe or flue, and was thus converted into an unsavory _pastille_. no. lxii. draco, i think, would have been perfectly satisfied with some portions of the primitive, colonial and town legislation of massachusetts. hutchinson, i. , quotes the following decree--"captain stone, for abusing mr. ludlow, and calling him _justass_, is fined an hundred pounds, and prohibited coming within the patent, without the governor's leave, upon pain of death." hazard, hist. coll. i. , has preserved a law against the quakers, published in boston, by beat of drum. it bears date oct. th, . the preamble is couched, in rather strong language--"whereas there is a cursed sect of heretics lately risen up in the world, which are commonly called quakers, who take upon them to be immediately sent of god," &c. the statute inflicts a fine of £ upon any person, who brings one of them into any harbor, creek, or cove, compels him to carry such quaker away--the quaker to be put in the house of correction, and severely whipped; no person to speak to him. £ penalty, for importing, dispersing, or concealing any book, containing their "devilish opinions;" shillings for maintaining such opinions. £ for persisting. house of correction and banishment, for still persisting. the poor quakers gave our intolerant ancestors complete vexation. hazard, ii. , gives an extract from a law, for the special punishment of two of these unhappy people, peter pierson and judah brown--"that they shall, by the constable of boston, be forthwith taken out of the prison, and stripped from the girdle upwards, by the executioner, tied to the cart's tail, and whipped through the town, with twenty stripes; and then carried to roxbury, and delivered to the constable there, who is also to tie them, or cause them to be tied, in like manner, to the cart's tail, and again whip them through the town with ten stripes; and then carried to dedham, and delivered to the constable there, who is again, in like manner, to cause them to be tied to the cart's tail, and whipped, with ten stripes, through the town, and thence they are immediately to depart the jurisdiction, at their peril." the legislative designation of the quakers was _quaker rogues, heretics, accursed rantors, and vagabonds_. in , according to hutchinson, i. , "an additional law was made, by which all persons were subjected to the penalty of shillings, for every hour's entertainment, given to a known quaker, and every quaker, after the first conviction, if a man, was to lose an ear, and a second time the other; a woman, each time, to be severely whipped; and the third time, man or woman, to have their tongues bored through, with a red-hot iron." in , shillings fine were levied, on every person, present at a quaker meeting, and £ for speaking at such meeting. in october of that year, the punishment of death was decreed against all quakers, returning into the colony, after banishment. bishop, in his "new england judged," says, that the ears of holden, copeland, and rous, three quakers, were cut off in prison. june , , mary dyer was hanged for returning, after banishment. seven persons were fined, some of them £ apiece, for harboring, and edward wharton whipped, twenty stripes, for piloting the quakers. several persons were brought to trial--"for adhering to the cursed sect of quakers, not disowning themselves to be such, refusing to give civil respect, leaving their families and relations, and running from place to place, vagabond-like." daniel gold and robert harper were sentenced to be whipped, and, with alice courland, mary scott, and hope clifford, banished, under pain of death. william kingsmill, margaret smith, mary trask, and provided southwick were sentenced to be whipped, and hannah phelps admonished. sundry others were whipped and banished, that year. john chamberlain came to trial, with his hat on, and refused to answer. the verdict of the jury, as recorded, was--"_much inclining to the cursed opinions of the quakers_." wendlock christopherson was sentenced to death, but suffered to fly the jurisdiction. march , .--william ledea, "_a cursed quaker_," was hanged. some of these quakers, i apprehend, were determined to exhibit the naked truth to our puritan fathers. "deborah wilson," says hutchinson, i. , "went through the streets of salem, naked as she came into the world, for which she was well whipped." at length, sept. , , an order came from the king, prohibiting the capital, and even corporal, punishment of the quakers. oct. , .--benedict arnold, william baulston, randall howldon, arthur fenner, and william feild, the government of rhode island, addressed a letter, on the subject of this persecution, to the general court of massachusetts, in reply to one, received from them. this letter is highly creditable to the good sense and discretion of the writers--"and as concerning these quakers, (so called)" say they, "which are now among us, we have no law, whereby to punish any, for only declaring by words, &c., their mindes and understandings concerning the things and ways of god, as to salvation and an eternal condition. and we moreover finde that in those places, where these people aforesaid, in this coloney, are most of all suffered to declare themselves freely, and are only opposed by arguments in discourse, there they least of all desire to come; and we are informed they begin to loath this place, for that they are not opposed by the civil authority, but with all patience and meekness are suffered to say over their pretended revelations and admonitions, nor are they like or able to gain many here to their way; and surely we find that they delight to be persecuted by the civil powers, and when they are soe, they are like to gaine more adherents by the conseyte of their patient sufferings than by consent to their pernicious sayings." one is taken rather by surprise, upon meeting with such a sample of admirable common sense, in an adjoining colony, and on such a subject, at that early day--so opposite withal to those principles of action, which prevailed in massachusetts. the laws of the colony, enacted from year to year, were first collected together, and ratified by the general court, in . hutchinson, i. , says, "mr. bellingham of the magistrates, and mr. cotton of the clergy, had the greatest share in this work." this code was framed, by bellingham and cotton, with a particular regard to moses and the tables, and a singular piece of mosaic it was. "murder, sodomy, witchcraft, arson, and _rape of a child_, under ten years of age," says hutchinson, i. , "were the only crimes made capital in the colony, which were capital in england." rape, in the general sense, not being a capital offence, by the jewish law, was not made a capital offence, in the colony, for many years. high treason is not even named. the worship of false gods was punished with death, with an exception, in favor of the indians, who were fined £ a piece, for powowing. blasphemy and reproaching religion were capital offences. adultery with a married woman, whether the man were married or single, was punished with the death of both parties; but, if the woman were single, whether the man were married or single, it was not a capital offence, in either. man-stealing was a capital offence. so was wilful perjury, with intent to take away another's life. cursing or smiting a parent, by a child over sixteen years of age, unless in self-defence, or provoked by cruelty, or having been "unchristianly neglected in its education," was a capital offence. a stubborn, rebellious son was punished with death. there was a conviction under this law; "but the offender," says hutchinson, ibid. , "was rescued from the gallows, by the king's commissioners, in ." the return of a "cursed quaker," or a romish priest, after banishment, and the denial of either of the books, of the old or new testament, were punished with banishment or death, at the discretion of the court. the jurisdiction of the colony was extended, by the code of parson cotton and mr. bellingham, over the ocean; for they decreed the same punishment, for the last-named offence, when committed upon the high seas, and the general court ratified this law. burglary, and theft, in a house, or in the fields, on the lord's day, were, upon a third conviction, made capital crimes. the distinction, between grand and petty larceny, which was recognized in england, till , th and th geo. iv., ch. , was abolished, by the code of cotton and bellingham, in ; and theft, without limitation of value, was made punishable, by fine or whipping, and restitution of treble value. in some cases, only double. thus, ibid. , we have the following entry--"josias plaistowe, for stealing four baskets of corn from the indians, is ordered to return them eight baskets, to be fined five pounds, and hereafter to be called by the name of josias, and not mr., as formerly he used to be." this lenity, in regard to larceny, mr. cotton seems to have been willing to counterbalance, by a terrible severity, on some other occasions. mr. hutchinson, ibid. , states, that he has seen the first draught of this code, in the hand-writing of mr. cotton, in which there are named six offences, made punishable with death, all which are altered, in the hand of gov. winthrop, and the death penalty stricken out. the six offences were--"prophaning the lord's day, in a careless or scornful neglect or contempt thereof--reviling the magistrates in the highest rank, viz., the governor and council--defiling a woman espoused--incest within the levitical degrees--the pollution, mentioned in leviticus xx. to --lying with a maid in her father's house, and keeping secret, till she is married to another." mr. cotton would have punished all these offences with death. on the subject of divorce, the code of differed from that of the present day, _with us_, essentially. adultery in the wife was held to be sufficient cause, for divorce _a vinculo_: "but male adultery," says hutchinson, i. , "after some debate and consultation with the elders, was judged not sufficient." the principle, which directed their decision, was, doubtless, the same, referred to and recognized, by lord chancellor eldon, in the house of lords, in , as reported by mr. twiss, in his memoirs, vol. i. p. . no. lxiii. if the materials, of which history and biography are made--the sources of information--were accessible to every reader, and the patience and ability were his, to examine for himself, there is, probably, no historian nor biographer, in whose accuracy and impartiality, his confidence would not be occasionally weakened. the statement or assertion, the authority for which lies scattered, among the pages of fifty different writers, perhaps, and which the historian has compressed within ten short lines, would, now and then, be found tinctured, and its true complexion materially altered, by the religious or political coloring of the writer's mind. the entire history of one or more ages has been written, to support a particular code of religious or political tenets. the prejudices of an annalist have, occasionally, from long indulgence, become so habitual, that his offences, in this wise, become almost involuntary. it is very probable, that the devoted followers--the wholesale admirers--of william penn, who have presented their conceptions of his character, and their constructions of his conduct, to the world, from time to time, have been led into some little excesses, by the force of habitual idolatry. on the other hand, few readers, i believe, have failed to be surprised, by some of the statements and opinions, in regard to penn, which are presented, on the pages of mr. macaulay's history of england. in my last number, i alluded to the persecution of the quakers in massachusetts. it is my purpose, to say something more of these "_cursed_" quakers, and, particularly, of william penn. my remarks may extend over several consecutive numbers of these dealings with the dead; and, i flatter myself, that, from the nature of the subject, they will not be wholly uninteresting to the reader. i have always cherished a feeling of regard and respect, for these "cursed" quakers, originating in early impressions, and increased, by some personal intercourse, with certain members of the society of friends. it appears, by the salem records, that john kitchen was fined thirty pence, for "unworthy and malignant carriages and speeches, in open court, sept. , ." i was very much chagrined, when i first glanced at this record; for he was my great, great, great-grandfather, by the mother's side; and grandfather of the hon. col. john turner, of salem, who commanded, at the battle of haverhill. great was my satisfaction, when i discovered, that john kitchen's offence was neither more nor less, than an absolute refusal to take off his hat, in presence of the magistrate. for the luxury of keeping it on, and absenting themselves from the ordinances, he appears to have paid £ stirling, in fines, for himself and elizabeth, his wife. the "_cursed_" quakers appear to have had a hard time of it, about the middle of the seventeenth century. felt tells us, in his annals, p. , that robinson and stevenson were hung in , for returning from banishment; and, on p. , that mary dyer, of the friends, was hung, june , . the deposition of john ward and thomas mekens, is still of record, taken in that very month and year, showing that they saw mrs. kitchen pulled off her horse, and heard one batter tell her, she was "_a base, quaking slut_," and had been "_a powowing_." now, john kitchen was a good quaker, doubtless, so far as regarded the essential qualification of obstinately wearing his hat, and refusing to take an oath. but he was made of flesh and blood, like all other quakers; and this outrage, in pulling my gr. gr. gr. grandmother down from her horse, was more than flesh and blood could bear. a copy of the deposition of giles corey is now before me, showing, that john, upon other occasions, was not so pacific, as he might have been--and that, upon one occasion, "_he struck up mr. edward norris his heels_"--and, upon another, he beat giles corey himself, "_till he was all blody_." he seems to have been moved, by the spirit, to thrash them both. i take this giles corey to be the man, or the father of the man, who, as felt says, p. , was pressed to death, in salem, for standing mute, during the witch mania, september , . william penn was, for many years, engaged in controversy, chiefly in defence of the peculiar, religious opinions of the quakers. wood, in his athenæ oxonienses, iv. p. , lond. , gives the titles of fifty-two tracts and pamphlets, published by penn, between and . in the heat of controversy, his character was rudely assailed, and his conduct grossly misrepresented. the familiar relation, subsisting between him and james ii., gave color, with some persons, to the report, that penn, at heart, was a papist and a jesuit. these groundless imputations have, long ago, been swallowed up, in their own absurdity. so strong, however, was the hold, which these ridiculous fancies had taken of the public mind, that, after the revolution of , he was examined before the council, and obliged to give bond, for his appearance, from time to time; till, at last, he obtained a hearing before king william, and effectually established his innocence. among the few men, of elevated standing, who gave, or pretended to give credit to the rumor, that penn was a papist, burnet appears in the foremost rank. he, who could speak of prior, as "_one prior_," might be expected to speak of william penn, as "_penn the quaker_." the appearance of penn, at the court of the prince of orange, could, on no account, have been agreeable to a bishop, and, least of all bishops, to burnet; who saw, in the new comer, the confidential agent of his bitterest enemy, king james the second; and who might, on other scores, have been jealous of the influence, even of "_penn the quaker_." burnet's words are these, vol. ii. p. , lond., --"many suspected that he was a concealed papist; it is certain he was much with father peter, and was particularly trusted by the earl of sunderland." on the preceding page burnet thus describes the quaker--"he was a talking vain man, who had been long in the king's favor, he being the vice admiral's son. he had such an opinion of his own faculty of persuading, that he thought none could stand before it; though he was singular in that opinion; for he had a tedious, luscious way, that was not apt to overcome a man's reason, though it might tire his patience." it is impossible not to perceive, in this description, some touches, which, historians have told us, were singularly applicable to burnet himself. william, who perfectly comprehended the character of halifax and burnet, perceived the propriety of keeping them apart, when the former came to hungerford, as a commissioner from the king, dec. , . how far i judge rightly, in applying a part of burnet's description of penn, to burnet himself, may appear, in the following passage from macaulay, vol. ii. p. : "almost all those, who were admitted to his (william's) confidence, were men, taciturn and impenetrable as himself. burnet was the only exception. he was notoriously garrulous and indiscreet. yet circumstances had made it necessary to trust him; and he would, doubtless, under the dexterous management of halifax, have poured put secrets, as fast as words. william knew this well; and, when he was informed, that halifax was asking for the doctor, could not refrain from exclaiming, '_if they get together, there will be fine tattling_.'" mr. macaulay remarks, that--"_to speak the whole truth, concerning penn, is a task, which requires some courage_." he then, vol. i. page , delivers himself as follows--"the integrity of penn had stood firm against obloquy and persecution. but now, attacked by royal wiles, by female blandishments, by the insinuating eloquence and delicate flattery of veteran diplomatists and courtiers, his resolution began to give way. titles and phrases, against which he had often borne his testimony, dropped occasionally from his lips and his pen. it would be well, if he had been guilty of nothing worse than such compliances with the fashions of the world. unhappily it cannot be concealed, that he bore a chief part in some transactions, condemned, not merely by the rigid code of the society, to which he belonged, but by the general sense of all honest men. he afterwards solemnly protested that his hands were pure from illicit gain, and that he had never received any gratuity from those, whom he had obliged, though he might easily, while his interest at court lasted, have made a hundred and twenty thousand pounds. to this assertion full credit is due. but bribes may be offered to vanity, as well as to cupidity; and it is impossible to deny that penn was cajoled into bearing a part, in some unjustifiable transactions of which others enjoyed the profits." this passage will tend, in the ratio of mr. macaulay's influence, to disturb the popular opinion of william penn. it is very carefully written, and will not always be so carefully read. it is, perhaps, unfortunate for penn, that mr. macaulay felt obliged, in pursuing the course of his history, to postpone the presentation of the facts, upon which his opinions rest, until they arise, in their chronological order. thus the impression, instead of being removed, qualified, or confirmed, by instant examination, is suffered to become imbedded in the mind. having carefully collated this passage, with every other passage, relative to penn, in mr. macaulay's work, i must confess, that the exceedingly painful impression, produced by the paragraph, presented above, has been materially relieved, by a careful consideration of all the evidence, subsequently offered, by mr. macaulay himself, and by the testimony of other writers. perhaps the reader will consent to go along with me, in the examination of this question. no. lxiv. mr. macaulay's second mention of william penn may be found, vol. i. page . a number of young girls, acting under the direction of their school-mistress, had walked in procession, and presented a standard to monmouth, at taunton, in . some of them had expiated their offence already. that hell-hound of a judge, jeffreys, had literally frightened one of them to death. it was determined, under menace of the gibbet, to extort a ransom from the parents of _all_ these innocent girls. who does not apply those lines of shakspeare to this infernal judge! "did you say all? what, all? oh, hell-kite, all? what, all my pretty chickens and their dam, at one fell swoop?" "the queen's maids of honor," says mr. macaulay, "asked the royal permission, to wring money out of the parents of the poor children; and the permission was granted." they demanded £ , and applied to sir francis warre, to exact the ransom. "he was charged to declare, in strong language, that the maids of honor would not endure delay," &c. warre excused himself. mr. macaulay proceeds as follows: "the maids of honor then requested william penn to act for them, and penn accepted the commission. yet it should seem that a little of the pertinacious scrupulosity, which he had often shown, about taking off his hat, would not have been altogether out of place on this occasion. he probably silenced the remonstrances of his conscience, by repeating to himself, that none of the money, which he extorted, would go into his own pocket; that, if he refused to be the agent of the ladies, they would find agents less humane; that by complying he should increase his influence at the court; and that his influence at the court had already enabled him, and might still enable him to render greater services to his oppressed brethren. the maids of honor were at last forced to content themselves with less than a third part of what they had demanded." now it seems to me, that no clear-headed, whole-hearted, _impartial_ reader will draw the inference, from this passage, which mr. macaulay would manifestly have him draw. penn well understood the resolute brutality of jeffreys, the never-dying obstinacy and vindictive malevolence of james, and the heartless greediness of these maids of honor. he knew, as mr. macaulay says, that "_if he refused to be the agent of the ladies they would find agents less humane_." there was no secrecy here--this thing was not done in a corner. mr. macaulay says, "they _charged_ sir francis warre," &c.: and after he refused, they "_requested_ william penn," &c. penn acted as a peacemaker. he stood between these she wolves--these shameless maids of honor--and the taunton lambs; and, instead of £ , he persuaded those vampyres, who, under the royal grant, had full power in their hands to do their wicked will--to receive less than £ . mr. macaulay admits, that penn received not a farthing; and, that, had he refused, matters might have been worse for the oppressed. the known character of penn demands of us the presumption, in his favor, that he entered upon this business conscientiously, and not as an _extortioner_--and that he made, as the result leads us to believe he did, the very best terms for the parents. wherein was ever the sin or the shame of negotiating, between the buccaneers of the tortugas, and the parents of captive children, for their ransom? does not mr. macaulay present the reign of james ii. before us, as blotted all over, with official piracy and judicial murder? if the adjustment of this odious business increased the influence of penn, at court, and thereby enabled him to "_render great services to his oppressed brethren_"--these were the natural consequences of the act; without them, there was enough of just and honorable motive, for a mediator, to step between the oppressor and the oppressed, and lessen, as much as possible, the weight of the oppression. if the conduct of william penn, upon this occasion, was the humane and christian thing, which it certainly appears to have been, "_the pertinacious scrupulosity, which he had often shown, about taking off his hat_" would have been wholly out of place. and if so, what justification can be found for mr. macaulay's expressions--"_the remonstrances of his conscience_," and "_the money, which he extorted_." it is proverbially hard, for an old dog to learn new tricks. he, to whose hand the hatchet is familiar, when he substitutes the rapier, will still hack and hew with it, as though it were a hatchet. it may well be doubted, if an impartial history, especially those parts of it, wherein the writer deals with character and motive, can ever be trustworthily and impartially written, by a veteran, professional reviewer, of the tomahawk school, however splendid his talents may be. upon this occasion, penn, doubtless, persuaded the maids of honor to moderate their demands; at the same time, representing to the parents the uncompromising character of those, with whom they had to deal, and the unavoidable necessity of making terms. it is impossible to judge of the transaction aright, without taking into view the character of those dark days of tyranny and misrule, and the little security, then enjoyed by the subject. on page , ibid., mr. macaulay, once more, introduces penn to his readers--"william penn, for whom exhibitions, which humane men generally avoid, seem to have had a strong attraction, hastened from cheapside, where he had seen cornish hanged, to tyburn, in order to see elizabeth gaunt burned. he afterwards related that, when she calmly disposed the straw about her, in such a manner, as to shorten her sufferings, all the bystanders burst into tears." here is another attempt to lower the quaker, in public estimation. that penn ever, from the cradle to the grave, gazed, unsympathizingly, upon human suffering, nobody, but a madman, will credit, for a moment. nor would mr. macaulay, notwithstanding the rather peculiar construction of the paragraph, venture _directly_ so to represent him. it has been my fortune to know several men, of kind and warm affections, who have confessed, without reserve, a strong desire to witness the execution of criminals. cornish and gaunt were executed on the same day, and their fate excited universal attention. penn's account of the last moments of both was very minute; and shows him to have been a deeply interested observer. i am not aware, that he ever attended any other execution. and if he did not, the remark of mr. macaulay, which is _general_, can never be justified, in relation to penn; though it would fairly apply to the celebrated george selwyn, who, though remarkable for the keenness of his sensibility, and the kindness of his heart, was in the habit of attending every execution in london; and who, upon one remarkable occasion of this kind, actually embarked for the continent. why could not mr. macaulay, who often refers to clarkson, have adopted some of his charitable and gentlemanly constructions of penn's conduct, upon this occasion? clarkson says--"men of the most noted benevolence have felt and indulged a curiosity of this sort. they have been worked upon, by different motives; some, perhaps, by a desire of seeing what human nature would be, at such an awful crisis; what would be its struggles; what would be the effects of innocence or guilt; what would be the power of religion on the mind." * * * * "i should say that he consented to witness the scenes in question, with a view to do good; with a view of being able to make an impression on the king's mind, by his own relation," &c. in vol. ii. page , , mr. macaulay says--"penn had never been a strong-headed man: the life which he had been leading, during two years, had not a little impaired his moral sensibility; and, if his conscience ever reproached him, he comforted himself by repeating, that he had a good and noble end in view, and that he was not paid for his services in money." again, ibid., page , referring to the effort of the king, to propitiate william kiffen, a great man, among the baptists, no phraseology would suit mr. macaulay, but this--"_penn was employed in the work of seduction_." what _seduction_? indeed, whenever a good chance presents itself to reach the quaker, anywhere and anyhow, through the joints of the harness, the phylactery of mr. macaulay seems to have been--_semper paratus_. it was enough, that penn was, in some sense, the confidant, and, occasionally, the _unconstrained and perfectly conscientious_ agent of this most miserable king. that posterity will sanction these politico-historical flings, at the character of william penn, i cannot believe. tillotson knew him well. he had once expressed a suspicion that penn was a papist. a correspondence ensued. "in conclusion," says chalmers, "tillotson declared himself fully satisfied, and, as in that case he had promised, he heartily begs pardon of penn." chalmers himself, who had no sympathy with the "_cursed quakers_," closes his account of penn, as follows--"_it must be evident from his works, that he was a man of abilities; and from his conduct through life, that he was a man of the purest conscience. this, without acceding to his opinions in religion, we are perfectly willing to allow and to declare_." no. lxv. there was a couple of unamiable, maiden ladies, who had cherished, for a long time, an unkindly feeling to the son of their married sister; and, whenever her temporary absence afforded a fitting opportunity, one of them would inquire of the other, if it was not _a good time to lick billy_. mr. macaulay suffers no convenient occasion to pass, without exhibiting a practical illustration of this opinion, that it is _a good time to lick billy_. in vol. ii. page , mr. macaulay says--"penn was at chester (in ,) on a pastoral tour. his popularity and authority among his brethren had greatly declined since he had become a tool of the king and the jesuits." in proof of this assertion mr. macaulay refers to a letter, from bonrepaux to seignelay, and to gerard croese's quaker history. let us see, for ourselves, what bonrepaux says--"penn, chef des quakers, qu'on sait être dans les intérêts du roi d'angleterre, est si fort décrié parmi ceux de son parti qu'ils n'ont plus aucune confiance en lui." now i ask, in the name of historical truth, if mr. macaulay is sustained in his assertion, by bonrepaux? is there a jot or tittle of evidence, in this reference, that penn "_had become a tool of the king and of the jesuits_;" or that bonrepaux was himself of any such opinion? let us next present the passage from croese--"etiam quakeri pennum non amplius, ut ante, ita amabant ac magnifaciebant, quidam aversabantur ac fugiebant." i ask, in reference to this quotation from croese, the same question? no possible version of these passages into english will go farther, than to show, that the quakers were dissatisfied with penn, about that time: in neither is there the slightest reference to penn, as "_a tool of the king and of the jesuits_." mr. macaulay's passage is so constructed, that his citation of authorities goes, not only to the fact of penn's unpopularity, for a time, but to the cause of it, as assigned by mr. macaulay himself, namely, that penn "_had become a tool of the king and of the jesuits_." now it is well known, that penn, in , was in bad odor with some of the quakers. he was _suspected_, by some persons, of being a jesuit--george keith, the quaker renegade, called him a deist--he was said by others to be a papist. even tillotson had given countenance to this foolish story, which penn's intimacy with king james tended to corroborate. how far tillotston believed penn to be a _papist_, or a _tool_ of the king, or of the _jesuits_, will appear, upon the perusal of a few lines from tillotson to penn, written in , the year before that, of which mr. macaulay is writing--"i am very sorry that the suspicion i had entertained concerning you, of which i gave you the true account in my former letter, hath occasioned so much trouble and inconvenience to you: and i do now declare with great joy, that i am fully satisfied, that there was no just ground for that suspicion, and therefore do heartily beg your pardon for it." clarkson's memoirs, vol. i. chap. . if the authorities, cited, sustained the statement of mr. macaulay, their credibility would still form a serious question. in vol. ii. pages - - , mr. macaulay refers to bonrepaux's "complicity with the jesuits." it would have been quite agreeable to that crafty emissary of lewis, to have had it believed, that penn was of their fraternity. as for gerard croese, chalmers speaks of him and his history, with very little respect; and states, that it dissatisfied the quakers. however this may have been, there is not a syllable in gerard croese's historia quakeriana, giving color to mr. macaulay's assertion, that penn "_had become a tool of the king and of the jesuits_." on the contrary, croese, as i shall show hereafter, speaks of penn, with great respect, on several occasions. in the same paragraph, of which a part is quoted, at the commencement of this article, mr. macaulay, after stating, that, when the king and penn met at chester, in , penn preached, or, to use mr. macaulay's word, _harangued_, in the tennis court, he says--"_it is said indeed, that his majesty deigned to look into the tennis court, and to listen, with decency, to his friend's melodious eloquence_." what does mr. macaulay mean?--that the king did not laugh outright?--that he made some little exertion, to suppress a disposition to make a mock of penn and his preaching? no intelligent reader, though he may not catch the invidious spirit of this remark, can fail to perceive the writer's design, to speak disparagingly of penn. well: what is mr. macaulay's authority for this? he quotes "cartwright's diary, aug. , , and clarkson's life of william penn"--but without any indication of volume, chapter, or page. this loose and unsatisfactory kind of reference is quite common with mr. macaulay; and one might almost as well indicate the route to the pyramids, by setting up a finger post in edinburgh, pointing in the direction of cairo. no eminent historian, english or scotch, has ever been thus regardless of his reader's comfort; neither rapin nor tindal, smollett nor hume, nor henry, nor robertson, nor guthrie, nor any other. of this the reader may well complain. this may all be well enough, in a historical romance--but in a matter, pretending to be true and impartial history, no good reader will walk by faith, altogether, and upon the staff of a single narrator; and he will too often find, that the spirit of the context, in the authority, is very different, from that of the citation. he, who imparts to any historical fact the coloring of his own prejudice, and _dresses up_ a statement, after his own fancy, has no right to vouch in, as his authority, for the _whole thing_, however grotesque he may have made it--the writer, who has stated the _naked fact_. if clarkson said simply, that the king had listened to penn's preaching, mr. macaulay has no right to quote clarkson, as having said so, in a manner to lower penn, the tithe of a hair, in the estimation of the world. _a fortiori_, if clarkson has said, that the king listened to penn's preaching, _on several occasion, with respect_, mr. macaulay had no right to quote clarkson, as his authority, for the sneering and ill-natured statement, to which i have referred. this is not history, it is gross misrepresentation; and, the more forcibly and ingeniously it is fabricated, the more unjust and the more ungenerous the libel, upon the dead. the reader, if he will, may judge of mr. macaulay's impartiality, by comparing his words with the _only words_ uttered by clarkson, on this point. they may be found, vol. i. chap. --"among the places he (penn) visited, in cheshire, was chester itself. the king, who was then travelling, arriving there at the same time, went to the meeting-house of the quakers, to hear him preach. this mark of respect the king showed him also, at two or three other places where they fell in with each other, in the course of their respective tours." this is the only passage, which can be referred to, in clarkson, by mr. macaulay, to sustain his ill-natured remark, whose evil spirit is entirely neutralized, by the very authority he cites. but there will be many, who will rather give mr. macaulay credit, for stating the point impartially; and few, i apprehend, who will take the trouble to look, through two octavo volumes, for a passage, thus vaguely referred to, without any indication of the volume, chapter, or page. this rude assault, upon the character and motives of william penn, mr. macaulay commences, by saying--"_to speak the whole truths concerning penn, is a task, which requires some courage_." it is becoming, in every historian, to speak the truth, the whole truth, and _nothing but the truth_. it certainly requires some courage--audacity, perhaps, is the better word--to present citations, in french and latin, to sustain an assertion, which those citations do not sustain; and to refer to a highly respectable author, as having stated that, which he has nowhere stated. it may not be amiss, to present my views of mr. macaulay's injustice, more plainly than i have done. it is obvious to all, that a fact--the same fact--may, by the very manner of stating it, raise or lower the character of him, in regard to whom it is related. the _manner_ of representing it may become _material_, or, substantially, part and parcel of the fact, as completely, as the coloring is part and parcel of a picture. no man has a right to take the sketch or outline of an angel, and, having given it the sable complexion of a devil, ascribe the entire thing, such as he has made it, to the author of the original sketch. no man, surely, has a right to seize a wreath, respectfully designed for the brows of his neighbor; distort it into the shape of a fool's cap; clap it upon that neighbor's head; and then charge the responsibility upon him, who prepared the original chaplet, as a token of respect. mr. macaulay represents king james, as listening to the preaching of penn, with concealed contempt--such are the force and meaning of his words; and he quotes clarkson, as authority for this, who says precisely the contrary. every reader, who is uninstructed in the french and latin languages, will view the quotations from bonrepaux and croese, as authorities for mr. macaulay's assertion, that penn had "_become the tool of the king and the jesuits_"--for, whether carelessly, or cunningly, contrived, the sentence will certainly be understood to mean precisely this. a large number, even of those, who understand the languages, will take these quotations, as evidence, upon mr. macaulay's word, without examination. now, as i have stated, there is not the slightest authority, in these passages, for mr. macaulay's assertion. no. lxvi. mr. macaulay's last attack upon william penn will be found, in vol. ii., pages - - . the fellows of magdalen college had been most abominably treated, by james ii., in . the detail is too long for my limits, and is, withal, unnecessary here, since there is neither doubt nor denial of the fact. the mediatorial agency of penn was employed. the king was enraged, and resolved to have his way. his obstinacy was a proverb. there were three courses for penn--right, left, and medial--to side with the king--to side with the fellows--or to act as a mediator. mr. macaulay is pleased, in his index, to speak of the transaction, as "_penn's mediation_." had he sided with the fellows entirely, he would have lost his influence utterly, to serve them, with the king. had he sided with the king entirely, he would have lost all confidence with the fellows. mr. macaulay, here, as elsewhere, is evidently bent upon showing up penn, as the "_tool of the king_:" and, if there is anything more unjust, upon historical record, i know not where to look for it. [ ]with manifest effort, and in stinted measure, mr. macaulay lets down a few drops of the milk of human kindness, in the outset, and says of penn--"_he had too much good feeling to approve of the violent and unjust proceedings of the government, and even ventured to express part of what he thought_." here, that which proceeded from _fixed and lofty principle_, is ascribed to a less honorable motive--"_good feeling_," or _bonhommie_; and the "_part of what he thought_," was neither more nor less, than a bold and frank remonstrance, committed to writing, and sent to the king, by penn. [ ] the palpable reluctance of mr. macaulay to deal in liberal construction, and to award the smallest praise, on such occasions, is not confined to penn. a writer in blackwood's magazine, for october, , page , after referring to the glorious defeat of the dutch fleet, off harwich, when the duke of york, afterwards james ii., commanded in person, remarks--"mr. macaulay, in his late published _history of england_, has not deigned even to notice this engagement--a remarkable omission, the reason of which omission it is foreign to our purpose to inquire. this much we may be allowed to say, that no historian, who intends to form an accurate estimate of the character of james ii., or to compile a complete register of his deeds, can justly accomplish his task, without giving that unfortunate monarch the credit for his conduct and intrepidity, in one of the most important and successful naval actions, which stands recorded, in our annals." other english historians have related it. hume, oxford ed. , vol. vii. page --smollett, lond. ed. , vol. viii. page .--rapin, lond. ed. , vol. xi. page . "the duke of york," says smollett, "was in the hottest part of the battle, and behaved with great spirit and composure, even when the earl of falmouth, the lord muskerry, and mr. boyle, were killed at his side, by one cannon ball, which covered him with the blood and brains of these three gallant gentlemen." when they met at oxford, says clarkson, vol. i. chap. , "william penn had an opportunity of showing not only his courage, but his consistency in those principles of religious liberty, which he had defended, during his whole life." after giving an account of the prince's injustice, clarkson says--"next morning william penn was on horseback, ready to leave oxford, but knowing what had taken place, he rode up to magdalen college, and conversed with the fellows, on the subject. after this conversation, he wrote a letter, and desired them to present it to the king." * * * * "dr. sykes, in relating this anecdote of william penn, by letter to dr. chazlett, who was then absent, mentions that penn, after some discourse with the fellows of magdalen college, wrote a short letter, directed to the king. he wrote to this purpose--that their case was hard, and that, in their circumstances, they could not yield obedience." this was confirmed by mr. creech, as clarkson states, and by sewell, who states, in his history of the rise and progress of the quakers, that penn told the king the act "_could not in justice be defended, since the general liberty of conscience did not allow of depriving any of their property, who did what they ought to do, as the fellows of the said college appeared to have done_." this is the "_part of what he thought_," referred to by mr. macaulay, who has not found it convenient, upon this occasion, to quote a syllable from clarkson, nor from sewell, of whose work chalmers and others have spoken with respect. i know of no better mode of presenting this matter fairly, than by laying before the reader contrasted passages, from mr. macaulay, and from clarkson, relating to the conduct of penn, upon this occasion. mr. macaulay shall lead off--"james, was as usual, obstinate in the wrong. the courtly quaker, therefore, did his best to seduce the college from the path of right."--therefore!--wherefore? penn did his best to _seduce_ the college from the path of right, _because_ james was, as usual, obstinate in the wrong! this is based, of course, upon mr. macaulay's favorite hypothesis, that penn was "_the tool of the king and the jesuits_."--"he tried first intimidation. ruin, he said, impended over the society. the king was highly incensed. the case might be a hard one. most people thought it so. but every child knew that his majesty loved to have his own way, and could not bear to be thwarted. penn, therefore, exhorted the fellows not to rely on the goodness of their cause, but to submit, or at least to temporize. such counsel came strangely from one, who had been expelled from the university for raising a riot about the surplice, who had run the risk of being disinherited, rather than take off his hat to the princes of the blood, and who had been more than once sent to prison, for haranguing in conventicles. he did not succeed in frightening the magdalen men." it may be thought scarcely worth while, to charge a quaker, at the age of _forty-three_, with inconsistency, because his views had somewhat altered, since he was a wild young man, at _twenty-one_. it is also clear, that penn viewed the magdalen question, as one quite as much of _property_ as of _conscience_; and that he could see no good reason, with his eyes of toleration wide open, why all the great educational institutions should be forever, in the hands of one denomination. mr. macaulay again--"then penn tried a gentler tone. he had an interview with hough and some of the fellows, and after many professions of sympathy and friendship, began to hint at a compromise. the king could not bear to be crossed. the college must give way. parker must be admitted. but he was in very bad health. all his preferments would soon be vacant. 'dr. hough,' said penn, 'may then be bishop of oxford. how should you like that, gentlemen?' penn had passed his life in declaiming against a hireling ministry. he held, that he was bound to refuse the payment of tithes, and this even when he had bought lands, chargeable with tithes, and had been allowed the value of the tithes in the purchase money. according to his own principles, he would have committed a great sin, if he had interfered, for the purpose of obtaining a benefice, on the most honorable terms, for the most pious divine. yet to such a degree had his manners been corrupted by evil communications, and his understanding obscured by inordinate zeal for a single object, that he did not scruple to become a broker in simony of a peculiarly discreditable kind, and to use a bishopric as a bait to tempt a divine to perjury." are these the words of truth and soberness? i rather think they are not. in the sacred name of common sense--did penn become a _broker in simony of a peculiarly discreditable kind, and use a bishopric, as a bait to tempt a divine to perjury_, by stating, that parker was very infirm, and, that, should he die, hough might be his successor! if this is history, give us fiction, for heaven's sake, which is said to be less marvellous than fact. there is not the least pretence, that he offered, or was authorized to offer, any such "_bait_." he spoke of a mere contingency; and did the best he could to mediate, between the king and the fellows, both of whom were highly incensed. as to the matter of tithes, penn was mediating, between men, _who had no scruples about tithes_. he recognized, _pro hac vice_, the usages of the parties; and a christian judge may, as shrewdly, be charged with infidelity, for conforming to the established law of evidence, and permitting a disciple of mahomet to be sworn, upon the koran. when hough replied, that the papists had robbed them of university college, and christ church, and were now after magdalen, and would have all the rest, "penn," says mr. macaulay, "was foolish enough to answer, that he believed the papists would now be content. 'university,' he said, 'is a pleasant college. christ church is a noble place. magdalen is a fine building. the situation is convenient. the walks by the river are delightful. if the roman catholics are reasonable, they will be satisfied with these.'" and now i will present clarkson's just and sensible view of this transaction. mr. macaulay has said, vol. ii. page , that "_the agency of penn was employed_," meaning, as the context shows, employed _by the king_. clarkson, vol. i. chap. , says expressly, that, oct. , , dr. bailey wrote to penn, "stated the merits of the case, and solicited his mediation." penn told the fellows, as appears from _dr. hough's own letter, written the evening after their last interview_, that he "feared they had come too late. he would use, however, his endeavors; and, if they were unsuccessful, they must attribute it to want of power in him, and not of good will to serve them." the mediation came to nothing. the fellows grew dissatisfied with penn; falling, doubtless, into the very common error of parties, highly excited, and differing so widely, that all, who are not _for them; in toto, are against them_. they seem to have been specially offended, by the following liberal remark of penn's--"for my part, i have always declared my opinion, that the preferments of the church should not be put into any other hands but such as they at present are in; but i hope you would not have the two universities such invincible bulwarks of the church of england, that none but they must be capable of giving their children a learned education." in the same volume and chapter, clarkson remarks--"they (the delegates from magdalen) thought, strange to relate, that penn had been rambling; and because he spoke doubtfully, about the success of his intended efforts, and of the superior capacity of the established clergy, that they alone should monopolize education, that his language was not to be depended upon as sincere. how this could have come into their heads, except from the terror, into which the situation of the college had thrown them, it is not easy to conceive; for certainly william penn was as explicit, as any man could have been, under similar circumstances. he informed them, that, after repeated efforts with the king, he feared they had come too late. this was plain language. he informed them again, that he would make another trial with the king; that he would read their papers to him, unless peremptorily commanded to forbear; but that, if he failed, they must attribute his want of success not to his want of will, but want of power." "this, though expressive of his doubts and fears, was but a necessary caution, when his exertions had already failed; and it was still more necessary, when there was reason to suppose, that, though the king had a regard for him, and was glad to employ him, as an instrument, in forwarding his public views, yet that he would not gratify him, where his solicitations directly opposed them. that william penn did afterwards make a trial with the king, to serve the college, there can be no doubt, because no instance can be produced, wherein he ever forfeited his word or broke his promise. but all trials with this view must of necessity have been ineffectual. the king and his ministers had already determined the point in question." such were the sentiments of clarkson. no. lxvii. charles i. was king, when william penn was born; and, when he died, george i. was on the throne. penn therefore lived in the reins of nine rulers of the realm--charles i.--the cromwells, oliver and richard--charles ii.--james ii.--william and mary as joint sovereigns--william alone--anne--and george i. he was the son of admiral, sir william penn, and was born on tower hill, london, oct. , . the spirit and the flesh strove hard for the mastery, before young william came forth a quaker, fully developed. he was remarkable at oxford, for his fine scholarship, and athletic performances. penn believed, that the lord appeared to him, when he was very young. the devil seems to have made him a short visit afterwards, if we may rely upon the testimony of penn's biographers. wood, in his athenæ, iv. , gives this brief account of the lord's visit--penn was "educated in puerile learning, at chigwell in essex, where, at eleven years of age, being retired in a chamber alone, he was so suddenly surprised with an inward comfort, and, as he thought, an external glory in the room, that he has, many times, said that, from that time, he had the seal of divinity and immortality, that there was also a god, and that the soul of man was capable of enjoying his divine communications." his biographer, clarkson, says, that penn, at the age of sixteen, was led to a sense of the corruptions of the established faith, by the preaching of thomas loe, a quaker; and broke off at the chapel, and began to hold prayer meetings. for this he was fined and admonished. it is remarkable, that wood, though he states, that penn, after he became a quaker, in good earnest, was imprisoned, once in ireland, once in the tower, and three times in newgate, does not even allude, in his athenæ, to the expulsion from oxford, which is related, by chalmers, clarkson, and others. it seems, that, after he had become impressed, by loe's preaching, an order came down from court, that the students should wear surplices. this so irritated penn, that, instead of letting his yea be yea, and his nay nay--in company with others, says clarkson, "he fell upon those students, who appeared in surplices, and tore them everywhere over their heads." on the subject of his conversion, wood says--"if you'll believe a satirical pamphlet--'_the history of will penn's conversion from a gentleman to a quaker_,' printed at london, in --you'll find, that the reason of his turning quaker was the loss of his mistress, a delicate young lady, that then lived in dublin; or, as others say, because he refused to fight a duel." for two, good and sufficient reasons, this statement, contained in the "_satirical pamphlet_," and referred to by wood, is unworthy of the slightest credit. in the first place, though penn met loe, in dublin, after the expulsion from oxford, and became more fully impressed, yet his first meeting with loe was at oxford, before the expulsion, and the serious impression, produced by his preaching, led, albeit rather oddly, to the affair of the surplices. in the second place, the notion, that penn would put on quakerism, to avoid a duel, is still more incredible. nothing could be more unfortunate, than any imputation upon penn's courage, moral or physical. we have seen, that he was famous for his athletic exercises. strange, though it may seem, to such as have contemplated penn, as the quiet non-combatant, he was an accomplished swordsman, and, upon one occasion, was actually engaged in an affair, which had all the aspect, and all the peril, of the _duellium_, however it may have lacked the preliminary forms and ceremonies. "during his residence in paris," says chalmers, "he was assaulted in the street, one evening, by a person with a drawn sword, on account of a supposed affront; but among other accomplishments of a gay man, he had become so good a swordsman, as to disarm his antagonist." after his expulsion from oxford, in , he returned home. his father, the admiral, was greatly provoked, to see his son resorting to the company of religious people, who were, of all, the least likely, in the licentious reign of charles ii., to advance his worldly interest. the old gentleman tried severity, and finally, as penn himself relates, gave the quaker neophyte a thrashing, and turned him out of doors. ere long, the father got the better of the admiral. he relented: and, probably, supposing there was as little vitality in paris, for a quaker, as some of the old philosophers fancied there might be, in a vacuum, for an angel, he sent young william thither, as one of a fashionable travelling party. after his return, he was admitted of lincoln's inn, and continued there, till the year of the plague, . the following year, his father sent him to ireland, to take charge of an estate. at cork, he met loe once more--attended his meetings, became an unalterable quaker, preached in conventicles--was committed to prison--released upon application to the earl of orrery--and summoned home, by his indignant father. the old admiral loved his accomplished son, then twenty-three years old--but abhorred his quakerish airs and manners. in all points, save one--the point of conscience--william was unexceptionably dutiful. at length, the admiral agreed to compound, on conditions, which seem not to have been very oppressive: in short, he consented to waive all objections, and let william do as he pleased, in regard to his religion, provided he would yield, in one particular--doff his broad brim--take off his hat--in presence of the king, the duke of york, and his own father, the admiral. young william demanded time for consideration. it was granted; and he earnestly sought the lord, on an empty stomach, as he says himself, with prayer. he finally informed his father, that he _could not do it_; and, once again, the admiral, in a paroxysm of wrath, turned the rebellious young quaker out of doors, broad brim and all. william penn now began to figure, as a preacher, at the quaker meetings. the _friends_, and the fond mother, ever on hand, in such emergencies, supplied his temporal necessities. even the old admiral, becoming satisfied of william's perfect sincerity, although too proud to tack about, hoisted private signals, for his release, when imprisoned, for attending quaker meetings; and evidently lay by, ready to bear down, in the event of serious difficulty. in , penn's brim grew broader and broader, and his coat became buttonless behind. he was a writer and a preacher, and a powerful defender of the "_cursed and depised_" quakers. the titles of his various works may be found in clarkson, and in wood's athenæ. they conformed to the fashion of the age, and were, necessarily, quaint and extended. i have room for one only, as a specimen,--the title of his first tract--"_truth exalted, in a short but sure testimony, against all those religious faiths and worships, that have been formed and followed in the darkness of apostacy; and for that glorious light, which is now risen, and shines forth in the life and doctrine of the despised quakers, as the alone good old way of life and salvation; presented to princes, priests, and people, that they may repent, believe, and obey. by william penn; whom divine love constrains, in an holy contempt, to trample on egypt's glory, not fearing the king's wrath, having beheld the majesty of him, who is invisible._" in this same year , he was imprisoned in the tower, for publishing his sandy foundation shaken. there he was confined seven months, doing infinitely more mischief, for the cause of lawn sleeves and white frocks, forms, ceremonies, and hat-worship, as he calls it, than if he had been loose. for, then and there, he wrote his most able pamphlets, especially, no cross no crown, which gained him great praise, far beyond the pale of quakerdom. his treatise has been often reprinted, and translated into foreign tongues. in , his influence was so great, that he obtained an order in council, for the release of the quakers then in prison. at a later day, he again assumed the office of st. peter's angel, and set three thousand captives free. in , says mr. macaulay, "he strongly represented the sufferings of the quakers to the new king," &c. "in this way, about fifteen hundred quakers, and a still greater number of roman catholics regained their liberty." no wonder he was mistaken for a papist, by those, who adopt that bastard principle, that charity begins at home, and ends there; whose religious circle forms the exclusive line of demarcation, for the exercise of that celestial principle; and who look, with the eye of a chinaman, upon all beyond the holy sectarian wall, as outside barbarians. i was delighted and rather surprised, that mr. macaulay suffered the statement of this fact to pass, without some ill-natured expression, in regard to penn--who, i say it reverentially, was less the tool of the king, than of jesus christ. no. lxviii. in , william penn was, for the third time, committed to newgate, for preaching. his fines were paid by his father, who died this year, entirely reconciled to his son; and, upon his bed of death, pronounced these comforting words--"_son william, let nothing in this world tempt you to wrong your conscience: i charge you, do nothing against your conscience. so will you keep peace at home, which will be a feast to you in a day of trouble_." penn inherited from his father an estate, yielding about £ per annum. about this time he wrote his "_seasonable caveat against popery_;" though he knew it was the faith of the queen and his good friend, the duke of york. shortly after, he travelled in holland and germany. in , he married gulielma maria springett. in , he held his famous dispute with richard baxter; and, in , he again visited the continent, in company with george cox and robert barclay, constantly preaching, and writing, and importuning, in behalf of his despised and oppressed brethren. about this period, and soon after his return to england, we find him petitioning parliament, in their behalf. twice, he was permitted to address the committee of the house of commons, upon this subject. whoever coveted the honor of being the creditor of royalty found a willing customer, in charles the second. in , that monarch, in consideration of £ , due from him to the estate of admiral penn, conveyed to william the district, now called pennsylvania. he himself would have given it the name of sylvania, but the king insisted, on prefixing the name of the grantee. full powers of legislation and government were bestowed upon the proprietor. the only limitation was a power, reserved to the privy council, to rescind his laws, within six months, after they were laid before that body. the charter bears date march , . he first designed to call his domain "new wales," and nothing saved the philadelphians from being welchmen, but an objection, from the under-secretary of state, who was himself a welchman, and was offended at the quaker's presumption. he encouraged emigrants, judiciously selected, to embark for his province; and followed, himself, with about a hundred quakers, in september, . his arrival in the delaware, his beneficent administration, and the whole story of his negotiation, with the indians, are full of interest, and overflowing. it is a long story withal, too long, altogether, for our narrow boundaries. i have indicated the sources of information, and this is all my limits will allow. after two years, he returned to england, and became a greater favorite than ever, with james ii.--was calumniated, of course--pursued by the unholy alliance of churchmen, and sectaries, and apostate quakers--grossly insulted--"chastened but not killed"--and finally deprived of his government. justice, at length, prevailed. penn's rights were restored, by william iii. having lost his wife and son, he went again, upon his travels, and again married. in , he returned to pennsylvania, and remained there, for the term of two years. he then went home to england; and, after continuing to employ his tongue and his pen, as freely as ever, for several years, he died, july , , at the age of seventy-two years, at jordan, near beaconsfield, in buckinghamshire. such is the mere _skeleton_ of this good man's life; and it is my purpose to _flesh it up_, with some few of those highly interesting, and well authenticated, incidents, which may be found, on the pages of trust worthy writers. i do not believe, that the pen of any past, present, or future historian, or biographer, however masterly the hand that holds it--however bitter and pungent the gall of bigotry or political venom, in which it may dipped--will ever be able, very grievously, or lastingly, to soil the character of william penn. the world's opinion has settled down, upon firm convictions. if new facts can be produced, then, indeed, a writer may justly move, for a reconsideration of the public sentiment--but mr. macaulay does not present _a single fact_, in relation to william penn, not known before--he gives a _construction_ of his own, so manifestly tinctured with ill nature, as, at once, to excite the suspicion of his reader. i wear a narrow brim, and have buttons behind--i am no quaker--and, indeed, have a quarrel with them all--chiefly grammatical--though i esteem and respect the principles of that moral and religious people--but i simply describe the impulse of my own heart, when i say, that mr. macaulay's ill natured treatment of william penn painfully disturbed my confidence, in his impartiality; and constrained me to "read, mark, learn and inwardly digest," the highly seasoned _provant_, which he has furnished--_cum grano salis_; and with great care, not to swallow the _flummery_. scotchmen have not always written thus of william penn; and the sentiments of mankind, now and hereafter, if i do not strangely err, will be found, embodied in the concluding passage of an article in the edinburgh review, vol. xxi. page . "we shall not stop to examine what dregs of ambition, or what hankerings after worldly prosperity may have mixed themselves with the pious and philanthropic principles, that were undoubtedly his chief guides in forming, that great settlement, which still bears his name, and profits by his example. human virtue does not challenge nor admit of such a scrutiny: and it should be sufficient for the glory of william penn, that he stands upon record, as the most humane, the most moderate, and most pacific of all governors." all this may be enough for his _glory_. but there are some simple, touching truths, to be told of william penn, and some highly interesting personal details; which, though they may have little about them, in accordance with the ordinary estimate of _glory_, will long continue to envelop the memory of this extraordinary man, with a purer and a milder light. i know no better mode of concluding the present article, than by presenting a few extracts, from the valedictory letter of william penn to his wife and children, written on the eve of his first visit to pennsylvania, september, . if the _saints_ write such admirable love letters, it would greatly benefit the _sinners_--the men of this world--to follow the example, and surpass it, if they can. "my dear wife and children. my love, which neither sea, nor land, nor death itself can extinguish nor lessen towards you, most endearingly visits you, with eternal embraces, and will abide with you forever. my dear wife! remember thou wast the love of my youth, and much the joy of my life; the most beloved, as well as most worthy of all my earthly comforts; and the reason of that love was more thy inward than thy outward excellencies, which yet were many. god knows, and thou knowest it, i can say it was a match of providence's making; and god's image in us both was the first thing, and the most amiable and engaging ornament in our eyes. now i am to leave thee, and that, without knowing whether i shall ever see thee more in this world. take my counsel into thy bosom, and let it dwell with thee, in my stead, while thou livest." here follows some domestic advice. penn then proceeds--"and now, my dearest, let me recommend to thy care, my dear children, abundantly beloved of me, as the lord's blessings, and the sweet pledges of our mutual and endeared affection. above all things, endeavor to breed them up, in the knowledge and love of virtue, and that holy plain way of it, which we have lived in, that the world, in no part of it, get into my family. * * * "for their learning, be liberal. spare no cost. for by such parsimony all is lost, that is saved: but let it be useful knowledge, such as is consistent with truth and godliness, not cherishing a vain conversation, or idle mind. * * * i recommend the useful parts of mathematics, &c., but agriculture is especially in my eye: let my children be husbandmen and housewives: it is industrious, healthy, honest and of good example. * * * be sure to observe their genius, and do not cross it as to learning. * * * i choose not they should be married to earthly, covetous kindred; and of cities and towns of concourse, beware. the world is apt to stick close to those, who have lived and got wealth there. a country life and estate, i like best for my children. i prefer a decent mansion, of an hundred pounds per annum, before ten thousand pounds, in london, or such like place, in a way of trade." he then addresses his children, and finally his elder boys, in the following admirable strain, honorable alike to his understanding and his heart. "and, as for you, who are likely to be concerned, in the government of pennsylvania, i do charge you, before the lord god and his holy angels, that you be lowly, diligent and tender, fearing god, loving the people, and hating covetousness. let justice have its impartial course, and the law free passage. though to your loss, protect no man against it--for you are not above the law, but the law above you. live therefore the lives, yourselves, you would have the people live; and then you have right and boldness to punish the transgressor. keep upon the square, for god sees you: therefore do your duty, and be sure you see with your own eyes, and hear with your own ears. entertain no lurchers; cherish no informers for gain or revenge; use no tricks; fly to no devices, to support or cover injustice but let your heart be upright before the lord, trusting in him, above the contrivances of men, and none shall be able to hurt or supplant." the letter, from which i have made these few extracts, concludes--"so farewell to my thrice dearly beloved wife and children! yours as god pleaseth, in that, which no waters can quench, no time forget, nor distance wear away." it is truly pleasant to get behind the curtain of form and ceremony, and look at these eminent men, in their night-gowns and slippers, and listen to them thus, while talking to their wives and their children. no. lxix. it is remarkable, that such a genuine quaker, as william penn, should have sprung from such a belligerent stock. his father, as i have stated, was a british admiral; and his grandfather, giles, was a captain in the navy. william penn may, nevertheless, have derived, from this origin, and from his dutch mother, margaret jasper, of rotterdam--a certain quality, eminently characteristic of the quaker--that resolute determination, which the coarser man of the world calls _pluck_, and the quaker, _constancy_. this constancy of purpose, in william penn, seems never to have been shaken. it appeared, in his refusal to doff his brim, before his father, the duke of york, and the king. it was manifested, when, being imprisoned in the tower, for printing his _sandy foundation shaken_, and hearing, that the bishop of london had declared the offender should publicly recant, or remain there, for life; he replied, "_he would weary out the malice of his enemies by his patience, and that his prison should be his grave, before he would renounce his just opinions, for he owed his conscience to no man_." this same constancy was signally exhibited, during the disputation, between himself and george whitehead, for the quakers, and thomas vincent and others, for the presbyterians. vincent had a parish, in spitalfields. two of his parishioners went to listen, perhaps to laugh, at the quakers. like goldsmith's scoffers, who came to laugh, and remained to pray--they went in, presbyterians, and came out, quakers. they were converted. at this, vincent lost his patience; and seems to have become a persecutor of the _cursed quakers_; and, as clarkson states, said all manner of "_unhandsome_" things of them, and their _damnable_ doctrines. penn and whitehead invited vincent to a public discussion. after much delay and evasion, vincent consented. as every fowl is bravest on his own _stercorium_, vincent selected his own presbyterian meeting-house, as the place for the discussion; and, before the appointed hour, filled it with his own people, so completely, that the disputants themselves, penn and whitehead, could scarcely gain admittance. they were instantly insulted, by a charge, suddenly made, that the quakers held "_damnable doctrines_." whitehead began a reply; vincent interrupted him, and proposed, as the proper course, that he should put questions to the quakers. he put the motion, and, as almost all present were of his party, it was agreed to, of course. he then put a question concerning the godhead, which he knew the quakers would answer in the negative. whitehead and penn attempted to explain. several rose on the other side. whitehead desired to put a question to vincent. this the presbyterians refused. they proceeded to laugh, hiss and stigmatize. penn they called a jesuit. upon an answer from whitehead, to a question from vincent, uproar ensued, and vincent "went instantly to prayer," that the lord would _come short_ with heretics and blasphemers. when he had, by this manoeuvre, discharged his battery upon the quakers, effectually securing himself from interruption--for no one would presume to interrupt a minister at prayer--he cut off all power of reply, by telling the people to go home immediately, at the same moment setting them the example. the closing part, which especially exhibits that constancy, for which the quakers have ever been remarkable, cannot be more happily related, than in the language of mr. clarkson himself. "the congregation was leaving the meeting-house, and they had not yet been heard. finding they would soon be left to themselves, some of them, at length, ventured to speak; but they were pulled down, and the candles, for the controversy had lasted till midnight, were put out. they were not, however, prevented by this usage, from going on: for, rising up, they continued their defence in the dark; and what was extraordinary, many staid to hear it. this brought vincent among them with a candle. addressing himself to the quakers, he desired them to disperse. to this, at length, they consented, but only, on the promise, that another meeting should be granted them, for the same purpose, in the same place." vincent did not keep his promise. he was, doubtless, fearful that more of his parishioners would be converted. penn and whitehead, at last, went to vincent's meeting-house, on a lecture day; and, when the lecture was finished, rose and begged an audience: but vincent went off, as fast as possible; and the congregation, as speedily, followed. finding no other mode before him, penn wrote and published his celebrated _sandy foundation shaken_, which caused his imprisonment in the tower, as already related. another remarkable example of the constancy of penn is recorded, in the history of his trial, before the lord mayor, for a breach of the conventicle act, in . mr. macaulay is pleased to say, penn had never been "_a strong-headed man_." this is one of those sliding phrases, that may mean anything, or nothing. it may mean, that not being a _strong-headed man_, he necessarily belonged to the other category, and was a _weak-headed man_. or, it may mean, that he was not as strong-headed as lord verulam, or mr. macaulay. i wish the reader would decide this question for himself; and, for that end, read the history of this interesting trial, as given by clarkson, in the first volume, and sixth chapter of his memoirs of penn. if the evidences of a strong head and a strong heart were not abundantly exhibited, by the accused, upon that occasion, i know not where to look for them. the jury returned a verdict of _guilty of speaking in grace street church_. sir samuel starling, the mayor, and the whole court abused the jurors, after the example of jeffreys, and sent them back to their room. after half an hour, they returned the same verdict, in writing, signed with their names. the court were more enraged than before; and, mr. clarkson says, the recorder addressed them thus--"you shall not be dismissed, till we have a verdict, such as the court will accept; and you shall be locked up without meat, drink, fire, and tobacco; you shall not think thus to abuse the court; we will have a verdict, by the help of god, or you shall starve for it." after being out all night, the jury returned the same verdict, for the third time. they were severely abused by the court, after the fashion of that day, and sent to their room, once more. a fourth time, they returned the same verdict. penn addressed the jury, and the court ordered the jailor to stop his mouth, and bring fetters, and stake him to the ground. friend william, for an instant, merged the quaker in the englishman, and exclaimed--"do your pleasure, i matter not your fetters." on the fifth of september, the jury, who had received no refreshment, for two days and two nights, returned a verdict of _not guilty_. such was the condition of things, at that day, that, for the rendition of that verdict, the jury were fined forty marks apiece, and imprisoned in newgate. penn was, at this time, five-and-twenty years of age. the peculiar position of william penn, at the court of charles and james the second, may be explained, without laying, at his door, the imputation of being a time-server, and a man of the world. between the latter monarch and the quaker, there existed a relation, akin to friendship. penn, in keeping with his quaker principles, was forgetful of injuries, and mindful of benefits. it is impossible to say, how long he would have remained in the tower, when imprisoned there, through the agency of the bishop of london, had he not been released, upon the unsolicited importunity of james ii., when duke of york. when the admiral, his father, was near his end, "he sent one of his friends," says mr. clarkson, "to the duke of york, to desire of him, as a death-bed request, that he would endeavor to protect his son, as far as he consistently could, and to ask the king to do the same, in case of future persecution. the answer was gratifying, both of them promising their services, upon a fit occasion." perhaps it would not be going too far--with mr. macaulay's permission, of course--to ascribe that personal consideration, which penn exhibited, for charles and james--a part of it, at least--to a grateful recollection of their favors, to his father and himself. "_titles and phrases_," says mr. macaulay, "_against which he had often borne his testimony, dropped occasionally from his lips and his pen_." i rather doubt, if the recording angel, who will never "_set down aught in malice_," has noted the unquakerish sins of william penn, in doing grammatical justice to personal pronouns. this, truly, is a mighty small matter. if penn was not so particular, in these little things, as some others of his brotherhood, his birth and education may be well considered. he was not a quaker born. his residence in france may also be taken into the account. "he had contracted," says clarkson, "a sort of polished or courtly demeanor, which he had insensibly taken from the customs of the people, among whom he had lately lived." in the matter of the hat, even mr. macaulay will never charge william penn with inconsistency. in granger's biographical history of england, iv. , i find the following anecdote--"we are credibly informed, that he sat with his hat on before charles ii., and that the king, as a gentle rebuke for his ill manners, put off his own: upon which penn said to him--'friend charles, why dost thou not put on thy hat?' the king answered, ''tis the custom of this place, that never above one person should be covered at a time.'" this tale is told also, in a note to grey's hudibras, on canto ii. v. , and elsewhere. no. lxx. _the pride of life_--that omnipresent frailty--that universal mark of man's congenital naughtiness--in william penn, seemed scarcely an earthly leaven, springing, as it did, from a comforting consciousness of the purity of his own. _the pride of life_, with him, was essentially _humility_; for, when compelled to rest his defence, in any degree, upon his individual character, he vaunted not himself, but gave all the glory to the giver. no man, however, more keenly felt the assaults, which were made upon his character, by the tongue and the pen of envy and hatred, ignorance and bigotry, because he knew, that the shaft, though aimed, ostensibly, at him, was frequently designed, for that body, whose prominent leader he was. in the very year of his father's death, and shortly after that event, he was seized, by a file of soldiers, sent purposely, for his apprehension, while preaching, in a quaker meeting-house, and carried before sir john robinson, who treated him roughly, and sent him, for six months, to newgate. in the course of the trial, robinson said to penn--"_you have been as bad as other folks_"--to which penn replied--"_when and where? i charge thee to tell the company to my face._" robinson rejoined--"abroad, and at home too." this was so notoriously false and absurd, that an ingenuous member of the court, sir john shelden, exclaimed--"_no, no, sir john, that's too much_." penn, turning to the assembly, and with all the chastened indignation of an insulted christian--quaker as he was--delivered himself, with a strength and simplicity, which would have done honor to paul, in the presence of agrippa; and which must forever, so long as the precious record shall remain, touch a responsive chord--even in the bosoms of those, whose practice it is, upon ordinary occasions, to let their yea be yea, and their nay--nay. i am sure it would have cheered the old admiral's heart, and elevated his respect for the broad brim, to have heard the manly language of his quaker son, that day. "i make this bold challenge to all men, women, and children upon earth, justly to accuse me, with having seen me drunk, heard me swear, utter a curse, or speak one obscene word, much less that i ever made it my practice. i speak this to god's glory, who has ever preserved me from the power of these pollutions, and who, from a child, begot an hatred in me, towards them." "but there is nothing more common, than, when men are of a more severe life than ordinary, for loose persons to comfort themselves with the conceit, that these were once as they themselves are; as if there were no collateral or oblique line of the compass or globe, by which men might be said to come to the arctic pole, but directly and immediately from the antarctic. thy words shall be thy burden, and i trample thy slanders, as dirt, under my feet." mr. clarkson is quoted, as good authority, by mr. macaulay. such he has ever been esteemed. a brief quotation may not be amiss, in regard to penn's relation to james ii. having referred to the admiral's dying request to charles and james, to have a regard for his quaker son, clarkson says--"from this period a more regular acquaintance grew up between them (william penn and james ii.) and intimacy followed. during this intimacy, however william penn might have disapproved, as he did, of the king's religious opinions, he was attached to him, from a belief, that he was a friend to liberty of conscience. entertaining this opinion concerning him, he conceived it to be his duty, now that he had become king, to renew this intimacy with him, and that, in a stronger manner than ever, that he might forward the great object, for which he had crossed the atlantic, namely, the relief of those unhappy persons, who were then suffering, on account of their religion. * * * * he used his influence with the king solely in doing good." the relation, between william penn and the papist king, was indeed remarkable. gerard croese published his historia quakeriana, at amsterdam, in , which was translated into english, in the following year. it was greatly disliked, by the quakers; and, in , drew forth an answer from one of the society. the testimony of croese, in relation to penn, may therefore be deemed impartial. he says--"the king loved him, as a singular and entire friend, and imparted to him many of his secrets and counsels. he often honored him with his company in private, discoursing with him of various affairs, and that not for one but many hours together." when a peer, who had been long kept waiting for penn to come forth, ventured to complain, the king simply said--"_penn always talked ingeniously and he heard him willingly_." croese says, that penn was unwearied, as the suitor on behalf of his oppressed people, making constant efforts for their liberation, and paying their legal expenses, from his private purse. the king's remark certainly does not quadrate with burnet's statement, that penn "_had a tedious luscious way of talking_." with queen anne he was a great favorite; and clarkson says, vol. ii. chap. , "she received him always in a friendly manner, and was pleased with his conversation." so was tillotson. so was a better judge than queen anne, tillotson, or burnet. in noble's continuation of granger, swift is stated to have said--"_penn talked very agreeably and with much spirit_." somewhat of penn's relation to king james may be gathered, from penn's answer, when examined, in , before king william, in regard to an intercepted letter from king james to penn. in that letter, james desired penn to "_come to his assistance and express to him the resentments of his favor and benevolence_." when asked what _resentments_ were intended, he replied that "he did not know, but he supposed the king meant he should compass his restoration. though, however he could not avoid the suspicion of such an attempt, he could avoid the guilt of it. he confessed he had loved king james; and, as he had loved him, in his prosperity, he could not hate him, in his adversity--yes, he loved him yet, for the many favors he had conferred on him, though he could not join with him, in what concerned the state or kingdom." this answer, says pickart, "_was noble, generous, and wise_." one of the most able and eloquent compositions of william penn is his justly celebrated letter of october , , to william popple. mr. popple was secretary to the lords commissioners, for the affairs of trade and plantations, and a particular friend of penn and of his schoolfellow, john locke. had mr. macaulay flourished then, he would have had readier listeners to these cavils, than he has at present. penn, in , was excessively unpopular. he was not only _the tool of the king and the jesuits_, but a rank _papist_ and _jesuit_ himself--the _friend of arbitrary power,--bred at st. omers in the jesuits college--he had taken orders at rome--married under a dispensation--officiated as a priest at whitehall_--no charge against william penn was too absurd, to gain credit with the people, at the period of the revolution. upon this occasion, mr. popple addressed to penn a letter, eminently beautiful, in point of style, and containing a most forcible appeal to penn's sense of duty to himself, to the society of friends, to his children, and the world, to put down these atrocious calumnies, by some public written declaration. his letter will be found, in clarkson's memoirs, vol. ii. chap. i. i truly regret, that i have space only, for some brief disconnected extracts, from william penn's reply. "worthy friend; it is now above twenty years, i thank god, that i have not been very solicitous what the world thought of me, &c. the business, chiefly insisted on, is my popery and endeavors to promote it. i do say then, and that, with all simplicity, that i am not only no jesuit, but no papist; and which is more, i never had any temptation upon me to be so, either from doubts in my own mind, about the way i profess, or from the discourses or writings of any of that religion. and in the presence of almighty god i do declare, that the king did never once directly or indirectly, attack me or tempt me upon that subject." * * * * "i say then solemnly, that so far from having been bred at st. omers, and having received orders at rome, i never was at either place; nor do i know anybody there, nor had i ever a correspondence with anybody in those places." after alluding to the absurdity of charging him with having officiated as a catholic priest, he adverts to his opinion of the views of king james, on the subject of toleration--"and in his honor, as well as in my own defence, i am obliged in conscience to say, that he has ever declared to me it was his opinion; and on all occasions, when duke, he never refused me the repeated proof of it, as often as i had any poor sufferers for conscience' sake to solicit his help for." * * * * "to this let me add the relation my father had to this king's service; his particular favor in getting me released out of the tower of london in , my father's humble request to him, upon his death-bed, to protect me from the inconveniences and troubles my persuasion might expose me to, and his friendly promise to do it, and exact performance of it, from the moment i addressed myself to him. i say, when all this is considered, anybody, that has the least pretence to good nature, gratitude, or generosity, must needs know how to interpret my access to the king." this letter contains sentiments, on the subject of religious toleration, which would be highly ornamental, if placed in golden characters, upon the walls of all our churches--"our fault is, we are apt to be mighty hot upon speculative errors, and break all bounds in our resentments; but we let practical ones pass without remark, if not without repentance! as if a mistake about an obscure proposition of faith were a greater evil, than the breach of an undoubted precept. such a religion the devils themselves are not without, for they have both faith and knowledge; but their faith doth not work by love, nor their knowledge by obedience." * * * "let us not think religion a litigious thing; nor that christ came only to make us disputants." * * * * "it is charity that deservedly excels in the christian religion." * * * * "he that suffers his difference with his neighbor, about the other world, to carry him beyond the line of moderation in this, is the worse for his opinion, even if it be true. it is too little considered by christians, that men may hold the truth in unrighteousness; that they may be orthodox, and not know what spirit they are of." verily, this "_courtly quaker_"--this "_tool of the king and the jesuits_," who was "_never a strong-headed man_"--was quite a christian gentleman after all. no. lxxi. in the latter days of william penn, _the sun and the light were darkened--the clouds returned after the rain--the grasshopper became a burden_--and the years had drawn nigh, when he could truly say he had _no pleasure in them_. no mortal, probably, ever enjoyed a more continual feast from the consciousness of a life, devoted to the glory of god, and the welfare of man; but many of his temporal reliances had crumbled under him; and trouble had gathered about his path, and about his bed. he had not much more comfort in his government, i fear, than sancho panza enjoyed, in that of barataria. its commencement was marked, by a vexatious dispute with lord baltimore; and the governor's absence was ever the signal for altercation, between different cliques and parties, and vexatious neglect, on the part of his tenants and agents. in his letters to thomas lloyd, the president of his council, he complains of some in the government, for drinking, carousing, and official extortion. in his letters to lloyd and harrison in , he complains of the council, for neglecting and slighting his letters; that he cannot get "_a penny_" of his quit-rents; and adds--"god is my witness, i lie not. i am now above six thousand pounds out of pocket, more than ever i saw by the province; and you may throw in my pains, cares, and hazard of life, and leaving of my family and friends to serve them." it is even stated by clarkson, vol. i. ch. , that want of funds from the province prevented his returning to america, in . in the following year, he renews these complaints. in , and after the revolution, he was examined, before the lords of council, on the charge of being a papist and a jesuit; gave bonds for his attendance, on the first day of the next term; and, no witness then appearing against him, he was discharged. in , he was again arrested, and bound over as before, and, no witness appearing, was again discharged. in the same year, he was once more arrested, and committed to prison. on the day of trial, no witness appeared, and he was again discharged. he resolved to fly from such continual persecution, to america, and, while making his preparation, he was again arrested, upon the information of one fuller, who was afterward set in the pillory, for his crime. penn sought safety, in privacy and retirement from the world. in , a new proclamation was issued for his arrest; and his american affairs wore a gloomy aspect. in , he was deprived of his government, by king william; and pursued with unrelenting rage, by his enemies. in the words of clarkson, he was "_a poor, persecuted exile_." "_canonized to-day and cursed to-morrow_"--such seems to have been the fortune of william penn. his only prudent course seemed to be to bow down, before the wrath of that popular hurricane, which swept furiously over him, and went upon its way. this good and great man was not wholly forgotten. he had never forfeited the affectionate respect of some persons, who have left bright names, for the admiration of future ages. such were locke and tillotson. they marked their time, and moved in behalf of the oppressed. lords ranelagh, rochester, and sidney went to king william--they "_considered it a dishonor to the government, that a man, who had lived such an exemplary life, and who had been so distinguished for his talents, disinterestedness, generosity, and public spirit, should be buried in an ignoble obscurity, and prevented from rising to future eminence and usefulness, in consequence of the charge of an unprincipled wretch, whom parliament had publicly stigmatized, as a cheat and an impostor_." king william replied to these truly noble lords, "that william penn was _an old friend of his, as well as theirs_, and that he might follow his business, as freely as ever, for he had nothing to say against him." the principal secretary of state, sir john trenchard, and the marquis of winchester bore these joyful tidings to william penn. and how did he receive them? he went instantly, of course, to tender the homage of his humble acknowledgments to king william--not so. he was then greatly embarrassed in his pecuniary affairs. foes were on every side. the wife whom, in his parting letter, he bade remember, that she was _the love of his youth and the joy of his life_, was on her death-bed, prostrated there, according to clarkson, in no small degree, by her too keen sympathy for her long suffering husband. his _heart_ was broken--his _spirit_ was not. he preferred rights before favors, and desired permission publicly to defend himself, before the king in council. this was granted, and he was abundantly acquitted, after a deliberate hearing. the last hours of his wife, gulielma maria, were cheered by this intelligence. in about a month after this event, she died. "she was an excelling person," said he, "as wife, child, mother, mistress, friend, and neighbor." in , a complete reconciliation took place between penn and the society of friends; and, in the same year, he was restored to the government of pennsylvania. in , he married hannah callowhill, of bristol. these gleams of returning happiness were soon obscured. a few weeks after this marriage, he lost his eldest son. this young man was upon the eve of twenty-one. his father's simple narrative of the dying hour is truly affecting. "his time drawing on apace, he said to me--'my dear father, kiss me. thou art a dear father. how can i make thee amends?' he also called his sister, and said to her, 'poor child, come and kiss me,' between whom seemed a tender and long parting. i sent for his brother, that he might kiss him too, which he did. all were in tears about him. turning his head to me, he said softly, 'dear father, hast thou no hope for me?' i answered, 'my dear child, i am afraid to hope, and i dare not despair, but am and have been resigned, though one of the hardest lessons i ever learned.'" when the doctor came, he was very weak, and the narrative continues thus. "he said--'let my father speak to the doctor, and i'll go to sleep,' which he did and waked no more; breathing his last upon my breast, the tenth day of the second month, between nine and ten in the morning, . so ended the life of my dear child and eldest son, much of my comfort and hope, and one of the most tender and dutiful, as well as ingenuous and virtuous youths i knew, if i may say so of my own dear son, in whom i lost all that any father can lose in a child; since he was capable of anything, that became a sober young man, my friend and companion, as well as most affectionate and dutiful child." about this time penn was sorely grieved, by the conduct of george keith, the apostate quaker, who had been excommunicated, and now spent his time, in abusing the society. penn had become well convinced of many solemn truths, presented in the last chapter of ecclesiastes, and of none more fully, than that there is no end of making books. he continued to pour forth pamphlets, on various subjects. in this year, , he became acquainted, and had several interviews, with peter the great, who was then working, as a common shipwright, in the dock yards at deptford. in he once more visited pennsylvania. in he returned to england. in and he continued to preach and publish, as vigorously as ever. in he became involved in a lawsuit, with the executors of one ford, his former steward, or agent. ford was undoubtedly a knave. penn suffered severely from this cause. the decision was against him; and, though chancery could not relieve, many thought him greatly wronged. he was compelled, in , to live within the rules of the fleet. this, doubtless, was the occasion of mr. burke's erroneous statement, many years after, that penn died in the fleet prison. an amusing anecdote may be referred to this period, which, though not mentioned by clarkson, nor in the life by chalmers, may be found in the encyclopædia britannica, of , and is repeated, in napier's edition of . penn is said to have had a peep-hole, through which, unseen, he could see every visitor. a creditor, having often knocked, and becoming impatient, knocked more violently; "will not your master see me?" said he, when the door was opened--"he hath _seen_ thee, friend," the servant replied, "but he doth not like thee." in , his necessities were such, that he mortgaged his whole province of pennsylvania, for £ . this necessity, as oldmixon says, in his "account of the british empire in america," arose from "his bounty to the indians, his generosity in minding the public affairs of the colony more than his own private ones, his humanity to those, who have not made suitable returns, his confidence in those, who have betrayed him." in , he had three apoplectic fits, followed by those painful effects, which are usual in such cases. his friend, thomas story, the first recorder of philadelphia, made him yearly visits, after this period, till his death, which took place july , . it is impossible to read the account of these visits, as given by thomas story himself, and presented by clarkson, vol. ii. chap. , without emotion. it has too often befallen those, whose lives have been devoted to the benefit of mankind, to be outraged, after they were dead and buried. malice delights to meddle with their ashes. political prejudice and priestly bigotry seek, in graves, undisturbed by ages, for something to gratify their unnatural appetites, and satisfy the gnawings of a mean, vindictive spirit. penn had not long been committed to the tomb, when a wretch, henry pickworth, an excommunicated renegade, spread abroad, with all the industry and energy of a malicious spirit, the report that penn had died a raving maniac, at bath. this rumor became so general, that it was thought necessary to destroy it, by the publication of certificates from those, who had ministered about his dying bed. for one hundred and thirty years, william penn has slumbered in the grave. that _hutesium et clamor_, that spirit of persecution, by which this excellent man was pursued, vilified, impoverished, and exiled, has long been hushed. the high churchman, the bigot, the quaker renegade, the false accuser, have worn out their viperous teeth upon the file. all, that bore the primeval impress of human weakness, in william penn, had well nigh perished, and departed from the minds of men. all, that was excellent, and lovely, and of good report, had become case hardened, as it were, into a sort of precious immortality. that his spirit had found a celestial niche, among the just made perfect, was the firm faith of all, who believe, that their father in heaven is a god of toleration and of mercy. i have paid my imperfect tribute of affectionate respect to the memory of william penn. notwithstanding mr. macaulay's efforts to disturb the popular opinion, in regard to william penn, his history of england is one of the most amusing books, in the english language. relationship is worth something, even in a library; i have placed the two volumes, already published, between the works of sir walter scott, and a highly prized edition of the arabian nights. no. lxxii. death has taken away, within a brief space, several of our estimable citizens--mr. joseph balch, an excellent and amiable man, who filled an official station, honorably for himself, and profitably for others--mr. samuel c. gray, a gentleman of taste and refinement, who graduated at harvard college, in , and, at the time of his death, was president of the atlas bank--mr. john bromfield, a man of a sound head, and a kind heart. having bestowed five and twenty thousand dollars, in his life-time, upon the boston athenæum, he modestly left the more extended purposes of his benevolent heart, to be proclaimed, after his decease; and, by his will, distributed, among eight charitable institutions, and his native town, the sum of one hundred and ten thousand dollars. the features of these good men are still upon the retina of our memories; the tones of their voices yet ring in our ears; we almost expect their wonted salutation, upon the public walk. but there is no mockery here--they are gone--the places, that knew them, shall know them no more! death has laid his icy hand upon these men, as he has ever laid the same cold palm upon their fathers, since time began. such exits are common. disease triumphed over the flesh, and they ceased to be. but death has done his dismal work, of late, in our very midst, by the hand of cruel violence--not sitting like the king of terrors, in quiet dignity, upon his throne, and casting his unerring shafts abroad; but darting down upon his unsuspecting victim, and, with a murderous grasp, crushing him at once. i allude, as every reader well knows, to the fate of the late dr. george parkman. as the coroner's inquest, after long and laborious investigation, has declared, that he was "_killed_," we must assume it to be so. i have known this gentleman, for more than forty years; and have had occasion to observe some of the peculiarities of his character, in the relations of business, as well as in those of ordinary intercourse--i say the _peculiarities_ of his character, for he certainly must be classed in the category of _eccentric_ men. having heard much of this ill-fated gentleman, for many years, before the late awful occurrence, and still more since the event--for he was extensively known, and all, who knew him, have something to relate--i am satisfied, that those very traits of eccentricity, to which i refer, have led the larger part of mankind, to form erroneous impressions of his character. dr. george parkman was the son of samuel parkman, an enterprising, and successful merchant, of boston, who was a descendant of ebenezer parkman, who graduated at harvard college, in , and was ordained oct. , , the first minister of westborough; and who, after a ministry of sixty years, died, dec. , , at the age of , and whose wife was the daughter of robert breck, minister of marlborough, who was the grandson of edward breck, one of the early settlers of dorchester, in . dr. george parkman graduated, at harvard college, in . when he commenced his junior year, john white webster, now erving professor of chemistry and mineralogy, entered the university, as freshman. dr. webster, who is now in prison, charged with the "_killing_" of dr. parkman, will, in due time, be tried, by a jury of his countrymen. will it not be decorous, and humane, and in accordance with the golden rule, for the men, women, and children of massachusetts, to permit the accused to have an impartial trial? can this be possible, if, upon the _on dits_ of the day, of whose value every man of any experience can judge, this individual, whose past career seems not to have been particularly bloodthirsty, is to be morally condemned, without a hearing? hundreds, whose elastic intellects have been accustomed to jump in judgment, are already assured, that we believe dr. webster innocent. now we _believe_ no such thing--nor do we _believe_ he is guilty. his reputation and his life are of some little importance to himself, and to his family; and we should be heartily ashamed, to carry a head upon our shoulders, which would not enable us to suspend our judgment, until all the _true facts_ are in, and all the _false facts_ are out. how much beautiful reasoning has been utterly and gratuitously wasted, upon premises, which have turned out to be not a whit better, than stubble and rottenness! the very readiness, with which everybody believes all manner of evil, of everybody, furnishes evidence enough, that the devil is in everybody; and goes not a little way, in support of the doctrine of original sin. let us, by all means, and especially, by an avoidance of the topic, give assurance to the accused of a fair and impartial trial. if he shall be proved to be innocent, who will not blush, that has contributed to fill the atmosphere, with a presentiment of this poor man's guilt? if, on the other hand, he shall be proved to be guilty of an incomparably foul and fiendish murder--let him be hanged by the neck till he is dead, for god's sake--aye, for god's sake--for god hath said--whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed. the personal appearance of dr. parkman was remarkable--so much so, that his identity could not well be mistaken, by any one, who had carefully observed his person. his body was unusually attenuated, and i have often, while looking at his profile, perceived a resemblance to hogarth's sketch of his friend fielding, taken from memory, after death. the talents of dr. george parkman were highly respectable. his mind was of that order, which took little rest--its movements, like those of his body, were always quick; more so, perhaps, upon some occasions, than comported with the formation of just and permanent judgment. he was a respectably well read man, not only in his own profession, but he possessed a very creditable store of general information, and was an entertaining and instructive companion. in various ways, he promoted the best interests of medical science; and nothing, probably, prevented him from attaining very considerable eminence, in his calling, but the accession of hereditary wealth; whose management occupied, for many years, a large portion of his time and thoughts. by some persons, he has been accounted over sharp and hard, in his pecuniary dealings--mean and even miserly. no opinion can be more untrue. dr. parkman's eccentricity was nowhere so manifest, as in his money relations. the line was singularly well defined, in his mind, between charity, or liberality, and traffic. he adhered to the time-honored maxim, that _there is no love in trade_. there are persons, who, in their dealings, give up fractions, and suffer petty encroachments, for the sake of popularity; and who make, not only their own side of a bargain, but, in a very amiable, patronizing way, a portion of the other. dr. parkman did none of these things. he gave men credit, for a full share of selfishness and cunning--made his contracts carefully--performed them strictly--and expected an exact fulfilment, from the other party. it is perfectly natural, that the promptness and the pertinacity of dr. parkman, in exacting the punctual payment of money, and the strict performance of contracts, should be equally surprising and annoying to those, whose previous dealings had been with men, of less method and vigilance. but no man, however irritated by the daily repetition of the dun, has ever charged, upon dr. parkman, the slightest departure from the line of strict integrity. he was a man of honor, in the true acceptation of that word. his domestic arrangements were of the most liberal kind--his manners were courteous--and he possessed the high spirit of a gentleman--and, with all the occasional evidences, which his conduct _openly_ supplied, of his particular care, in the gathering of units; he could be _secretly_ liberal, with hundreds. it may well be doubted, if any individual has ever lived, for sixty years, in this city, whose real character has been so little understood, by the community at large. the reason is at hand--he exposed that regard for pittances, which most men conceal--and he concealed many acts of charity, which most men expose. he had many tenants of the lower order--he was frequently his own collector, and brought upon himself many murmurs and complaints, which are commonly the agent's portion. the charities of dr. parkman wore an aspect, now and then, of whimsicality, and were strangely contrasted with _apparent_ meanness. thus, upon one occasion, he is said to have insisted upon being paid a paltry balance of rent, some twenty-five cents, by a poor woman, who assured him it was all she had to buy her dinner. "_now we have settled the rent_," said he, and immediately gave her a couple of dollars. a gentleman, an old college acquaintance of dr. parkman's, told me, a day or two since, that the dr. came to him, after this gentleman's failure, some years ago, and said to him, with great kindness and delicacy--"you want a house--there is mine in ---- street, empty and repaired--take it--you shall pay no rent for a year, and as much longer, as may suit your convenience." in , this city was visited by the cholera. mr. charles wells was mayor, and a very good mayor was he. had his benevolence induced him to labor, for the more extensive diffusion of the blessing of alcohol, among the poor, the liquor trade would certainly have voted him a punch-bowl, for his vigorous opposition to the cholera. upon the occasion, to which i refer, dr. parkman said to the city authorities--"you are seeking for a cholera hospital--take any of my houses, that may suit you, rent free, in welcome. if you prefer that, which i occupy, i will move out, with pleasure." when dorcas died, the good people of joppa began to display her handiwork. i am surprised, though much of it was known to me before, at the amount of evidence, which is now produced, from various quarters, to prove, that this unfortunate gentleman was a man of the most kind affections, and of extensive, practical benevolence. let me close these remarks, with one brief anecdote; which, though once already related of dr. parkman, by the editor of the transcript, is worthy of many republications, and is not at all like news, on the stock exchange, good only while it is new. "a politician stopped the doctor in the street and asked him to subscribe for the expense of a salute, in honor of some political victory. the doctor put his arm in his, and invited him to take a little walk. he led him round the corner into a dismal alley, and then up three flights of rickety stairs into a room where a poor woman was sitting, propped by pillows, feebly attempting to sew. some pale, hungry-looking children were near. the doctor took six dollars out of his pocket-book, and handed it to the politician, and, simply remarking, "do with it as you please," he darted out of the room in his usually impulsive way." i must close this feeble tribute of respect to the memory of one, who truly deserved a milder fate and an abler pen. had we the power of recall--how well and wisely might we pay his ransom, with scores of men, quite as _eccentric_ in their way, but whose _eccentricity_ has very rarely assumed the charitable type! no. lxxiii. when i was a very young man, i had the honor of a slight acquaintance with a most worthy gentleman, my senior by many years, who represented the town of hull, in the legislature of our commonwealth. as i marked the solemn step, with which he moved along the public way, towards the house of representatives, and the weight of responsibility, which hung upon his anxious brow--if such, thought i, is the effect, produced upon the representative of hull--what an awful thing it must be, to represent the whole united states of north america, at the court of the greatest nation in the world! in harmony with this opinion, every nation of the earth has selected, from the _élite_ of the whole country, for the high and responsible employment of standing before the world, as the legitimate representative of itself, a man of affairs--i do not mean the affairs of trade, and discounts, and invoices, and profits--i use the word, in its most ample diplomatic sense--a man of great wisdom, and knowledge, and experience--a man familiar with the laws of nations--a man of dignity--not that arrogated dignity, which looks supremely wise, while it feels supremely foolish--but that conscious dignity, which is innate, and sits upon the wearer, like an easy garment--a man of liberal education, and great familiarity, not with the whole circle of sciences, but with the whole circle of historical and correlative knowledge--a man of classical erudition, and a scholar, competent to bear a becoming part, in that elevated intercourse of mind, which forms the dignified and delightful recreation of the diplomatist, in the first society of europe. men, who have been bred up, amid the pursuits of trade, have been, with great propriety, selected, to fill the offices of _consuls_, in foreign lands; agreeably to the long established distinction, that _consuls_ represent the _commercial affairs_--_ambassadors_ the _state and dignity_ of the country, from whence they come. oh! for the wand of that enchantress, the glorious witch of endor! to turn up the sod of memory, and conjure, from their honorable graves, the train of illustrious, and highly gifted men, who, from time to time, have been sent forth, to represent this great republic, before the throne of england! first, on that scroll of honor, is a name, which shall prove coeval with the first days, and with the last, of this republic. it shall never perish, till the whole earth itself shall be rolled up, like a scroll. on the second day of june, , john adams was presented to king george, the third. the very man, whom that obstinate, old monarch had never contemplated, in his royal visions, but as a rebel, suing for pardon, with a rope about his neck, then stood before him, calm and erect--the equal of that king, in all things, that became a man, and his mighty superior in many--the representative of a nation, which his consummate wisdom, and invincible, moral courage had contributed, so materially, to render free and independent. what a tribute was conveyed, in the words of jefferson, his political rival--"_the great pillar and support to the declaration of independence, and its ablest advocate and champion on the floor of the house was_ john adams. _he was the colossus of that congress: not graceful, not eloquent, not always fluent, in his public addresses, he yet came out with a power both of thought and expression, which moved the hearers from their seats._" in those thoughtful days, secretaries of legation were carefully selected, and with some reference, of course, to their contingent responsibilities, in the event of the absence, or illness, of their principals. when, in , mr. adams went, on his mission to france, a gentleman of high qualifications, mr. francis dana, gave up his seat, _as a member of congress_, to follow that great man, _as secretary of legation_. mr. dana subsequently figured, ably and gracefully, in the highest stations. in , he was minister to russia. in , he was a delegate to congress. in , he declined the office of envoy extraordinary to france. from to , he was the able, impartial, and eminently dignified chief justice of the supreme judicial court of massachusetts. in , it was thought, by the appointing power, that john jay might be trusted to represent our republic, at the british court. with what a reputation, for wisdom, and talents, and learning, that great man crossed the sea! mr. jay, an eminent lawyer, uniting the wisdom and dignity of years, with the vigor and zeal of early manhood, was a member of the first american congress, at the age of twenty-nine. chairman of the committee, of which lee and livingston were members, he was the author of the eloquent "_address to the people of great britain_." he was chief justice of the state of new york, from to , and relinquished that elevated station, as incompatible with the due performance of his duties, as president of congress. from his skilful hand came the stirring address of that assembly, to its constituents, of sept. , . he was appointed minister plenipotentiary to spain, at the close of that year--a commissioner, to negotiate peace with great britain, in --chief justice of the supreme judicial court of the united states, in --governor of new york, in , being then abroad, as minister plenipotentiary of the united states, to great britain, to which office he was appointed in --and again governor of new york, in . rufus king graduated at harvard college, in , with a high reputation, as a classical scholar and an orator; and studied his profession, with the late chief justice parsons. in , he was a delegate to congress. he was a member of the convention of , to form the constitution of the united states. in , he was a member of the united states senate. of the celebrated camillus papers, commonly ascribed to hamilton, all, excepting the ten first, were from the pen of rufus king. in , he was nominated, by washington, minister plenipotentiary to the court of great britain. he filled that high station, till the close of the second year of the jefferson administration. after a long retirement, he was again in the senate of the united states, in . after quitting the senate, in , he was once more appointed minister to great britain; but, after remaining abroad, about a year, in ill health, he returned, and died at jamaica, long island, april , . "_and what shall i more say?_ for the time would fail me, to tell of" pinckney, and gore, and the younger adams, that incarnation of wisdom and learning, and gallatin, and maclean, and everett, and bancroft, every one of whom has been preceded, by the well-earned reputation of high, intellectual powers and attainments, whatever may have been the difference of their political opinions. knowledge is power; talent is power; and fine literary tastes and acquirements are, preëminently, power; and, in no spot, upon the surface of the earth, are they more truly so, than in the great british metropolis. the wand of a man of letters can there do more, than can be achieved, by the power of midas, or the wonder-working lamp of aladdin. our fathers, therefore, preferred, that the nation should be represented, in its simplicity and strength, by men of long heads, strong hearts, and short purses. they considered a regular, thorough, and polished education, literary attainments of a very high order, a clear and comprehensive knowledge of the law of nations, and an extensive store of general information, absolutely essential, in a minister plenipotentiary, from this republic, to the court of great britain; for our _state and dignity_ were to be represented there, not less than our _commercial relations_. they well knew, that our representative should be qualified to represent the refined and educated portions of our community, in the presence of those elevated classes, among whom he must frequently appear; and "_whose talk_," to use the expression of dr. johnson, was not likely to be "_of bullocks_." they therefore invariably selected, for this exalted station, one, who would be abundantly able to represent the nation, with gravity, and dignity, and wisdom, and knowledge, and power; and who would never be reduced, whatever the subject might be, to believe his safety was in sitting still, or of suffering the secret of his impotency to escape, by opening his mouth. if i have passed too rapidly for the reader's willingness to linger, over the names of some highly distinguished men, who have so ably represented our country, at the british court, and who still _survive_--it is because _my dealings are with the dead_. no. lxxiv. "an immense quantity of fuel was always of necessity used, when dead bodies were burned, instead of buried; and a friend, learned in such lore, as well as in much that is far more valuable, informs us that the burning of a _martyr_ was always an expensive process." this passage was transferred, from the new york courier and enquirer, to the boston atlas, december , , and is part of an article having reference to the partial cremation of dr. parkman's remains. i must presume, as a sexton of the old school, to doubt the accuracy of this statement, in the very face of the averment, that the editor's authority is "_a friend, learned in such lore_." to enable my readers to judge of the comparative expense of burial, in the ordinary mode, by interment or entombment, and by cremation, i refer, in the first place, to mr. chadwick's report, made by request of her majesty's principal secretary of state, for the home department, lond. , in which it is stated, that a master in chancery, when dealing with insolvent estates, will pass, "_as a matter of course_," such claims as these--from £ to £ for burying an upper tradesman--£ for burying a gentleman--£ to £ for burying a nobleman. but let us confine our remarks to the particular allegation. the "_friend, learned in such lore_," has greatly diminished the labor of refutation, by confining his statement to the burning of _martyrs_--"_the burning of a martyr was always an expensive process_," requiring, says the courier and enquirer, "_an immense quantity of fuel_." i well remember to have read, though i cannot recall the authority, that aromatic woods and spices were occasionally used in the east, during the _suttees_, to correct the offensive odor. in addition to the reason, assigned by cicero, de legibus, ii. , for the law against intramural burning, that conflagration might be avoided--servius, in a note, on the Ã�neis, vi. , states another, that the air might not be infected with the stench. to prevent this, we know that costly perfumes were cast upon the pile; and the respect and affection for the defunct came to be measured, at last, by this species of extravagance; just as the funereal sorrow of the irish is supposed to be graduated, by the number of coaches, and the quantity of whiskey. but our business is with the _martyrs_. what was the cost of burning john rogers i really do not know. i doubt if the process was very expensive; for good old john strype has told us, almost to a fagot, how much fuel it took, to burn cranmer, latimer, and ridley. the fuel, employed to burn latimer and ridley, cost fifteen shillings and four pence sterling for both; and the fuel for burning cranmer, nine shillings and four pence only. then there were chains, stakes, laborers, and cartage; and the whole cost for burning all three, was _one pound, sixteen shillings, and six pence_! not a very expensive process truly. the authority is not at every one's command: i therefore give it entire, from strype's memorials of cranmer, oxford ed., , vol. i. p. :-- _s._ _d._ "for three loads of wood fagots to burn ridley and latimer, item, one load of furs fagots, for the carriage of these four loads, item, a post, item, two chains, item, two staples, item, four laborers, "for burning cranmer. for an of wood fagots, for an and half of furs fagots, for the carriage of them, to two laborers, ." £ to _bury_ a nobleman, and £ , to _burn_ three martyrs! leaving the courier and enquirer, and the "_friend, learned in such lore_," to _bury_ or to _burn_ this record, as they please, i turn to another subject, referred to, on the very same page of strype's memorials, and which is not without some little interest, at the present moment. a prisoner, charged with any terrible offence, innocent or guilty, lies under the _surveillance_ of all eyes and ears. the slightest act, the shortest word, the very breath of his nostrils are carefully reported. the public resolves itself into a committee of anxious inquirers, to ascertain precisely how he eats, and drinks, and sleeps. there are persons of lively fancies, whose imaginations fire up, at the mere sight of his prison walls, and start off, under high pressure, filling the air with rumors, too horribly delightful, to be doubted for an instant. if the topic were not the terrible thing that it is, it would be difficult to preserve one's gravity, while listening to some portion of the testimony, upon which, it may be our fortune, one of these days, to be convicted of murder, by the charitable public. of the guilt or innocence of john white webster i _know_ nothing, and i _believe_ nothing. but it has been currently reported, that, since his confinement, he has been detected, in the crime of eating oysters. i doubt, if this ordeal would have been considered entirely satisfactory, even by dr. mather, in . man is a marvellous monster, when sitting, self-placed, in judgment, on his fellow! the very thing, which is a sin, in the commission or observance, is no less a sin, in the omission and the breach--for who will doubt the blood-guiltiness of a man, that, while confined, on a charge of murder, can partake of an oyster pie! and if he cannot do this, who will doubt, that a consciousness of guilt has deprived him of his appetite! i have heard of a drunken husband, who, while staggering home, after midnight, communed with himself, as follows--"_if my wife has gone to bed, before i get home to supper, i'll beat her,--and if she is sitting up, so late as this, burning my wood and candles, i'll beat her_." good john strype, ibid. , says of cranmer, latimer and ridley, while in the prison of bocardo--"they ate constantly suppers as well as dinners. their meals amounted to about three or four shillings; seldom exceeding four. their bread and ale commonly came to two pence or three pence; they had constantly cheese and pears for their last dish, both at dinner and supper; and always wine." it is not uninteresting to note the prices, paid for certain articles of their diet, in those days, . while describing the _provant_ of these martyrs, strype annexes the prices, "_it being an extraordinary dear time_.--a goose, d. a pig, oz. d. a cony, d. a woodcock, d. and sometimes d. a couple of chickens, d. three plovers, d. half a dozen larks, d. a dozen of larks and plovers, d. a breast of veal, d. a shoulder of mutton, d. roast beef, d." he presents one of cranmer's bills of fare:-- "bread and ale, .d. item oisters, .d. item butter, .d. item eggs, .d. item lyng, .d. item a piece of fresh salmon, .d. wine, .d. cheese and pears, .d." two bailiffs, wells and winkle, upon their own responsibility, furnished the table of these martyrs, and appear never to have been reimbursed. strype says, ibid. , that they expended £ s. d., and never received but £ , which they obtained from sir william petre, secretary of state. ten years after, a petition was presented to the successor of cranmer, that these poor bailiffs might receive some recompense. after the pile had burnt down, in the case of cranmer, upon raking among the embers, his heart was found entire. upon this incident, strype exclaims--"methinks it is a pity, that his heart, that remained sound in the fire, and was found unconsumed in his ashes, was not preserved in some urn; which, when the better times of queen elizabeth came, might, in memory of this truly good and great thomas of canterbury, have been placed among his predecessors, in his church there, as one of the truest glories of that see." in , mr. william ward, of serampore, published, in london, his "_farewell letters_." mr. ward was a baptist missionary; and, at the time of the publication, was preparing to return to bengal. this work was very favorably reviewed in the christian observer, vol. xxi. p. . i have never met with a description, so exceedingly minute, of the _suttee_, the process of burning widows. he thus describes the funeral pile--"the funeral pile consists of a quantity of fagots, laid on the earth, rising, in height, about three feet from the ground, about four feet wide, and six feet in length." admitting these fagots to be closely packed, the pile contains seventy-two cubic feet of wood, or fifty-six less than a cord. "_a large quantity of fagots are then laid upon the bodies_," says mr. ward. as the widow often leaps from the pile, and is chased back again, into the flames, by the benevolent bramins, the fagots, which are not heaped _around_ the pile, but "_laid on the bodies_," cannot be a very oppressive load; and the quantity, thus employed in the _suttee_, is for the cremation of two bodies, at least, the dead husband, and the living widow. there can be no doubt of the superior economy of cremation, over earth-burial. the notions of an "_expensive process_," and the "_immense quantities of fuel_," have no foundation in practice. if the ashes, as has been sometimes the case, were given to the winds, or cast upon the waters, the expense of cremation would be exceedingly small. but cremation, however inexpensive, in itself, has led to unmeasured extravagance, in the matter of urns of the most costly materials, and workmanship, of which an ample account may be found, in the _hydriotaphia_ of sir thomas browne, london, , vol. iii. p. . more remarkable changes have occurred, in modern times, than a revival of the practice of cremation. it is an error, however, to suppose this practice to have been the original mode of dealing with the dead. it was very general about the year , b. c., but the usage, at the present day, was, doubtless, the primitive practice of mankind. so thought cicero, de legibus ii. . "ac mihi quidem antiquissimum sepulturæ genus id fuisse videtur, quo apud xenophontem cyrus utitur. redditur enim terræ corpus, et ita locatum ac situm, quasi operimento matris obducitur." nevertheless, there is a strong cremation party among us. who would not save sixpence, if he could, even in a winding-sheet! should the wood and lumber interest be fairly represented, in our city councils, it would not be surprising, if there should be a majority, in favor of taking the remains of our citizens to nova scotia, to be burnt, rather than to malden, to be buried. my friends, birch, touchwood, and deal, are of this opinion; and would be happy to receive the citizens on board their regular coasters, for this purpose, at a reasonable price, per hundred, or by the single citizen--packed in ice. an experienced person will be always on hand, to receive the corpses. religious services will be duly performed, during the burning, without extra charge; and, should the project find favor with the public, a regular line of funeral coasters, with appropriate emblems, and figure-heads, will, in due time, be established. those, who prefer the more economical mode of water-burial, for their departed relatives, thereby saving the expense of fuel altogether, will be accommodated, if they will leave orders in writing, with the masters on board, who will personally superintend the dropping of the bodies, off soundings. no. lxxv. while attempting to rectify the supposed mistakes of other men, we sometimes commit egregious blunders ourselves. in turning over an old copy of john josselyn's voyages to new england, in and , my attention was attracted, by a particular passage, and a marginal manuscript note, intended to correct what the annotator supposed, and what some readers might suppose, to be a blunder of the printer, or the author. the passage runs thus--"in , these north parts were further discovered by capt. _bartholomew gosnold_. the first _english_ that planted there, set down not far from the _narragansetts bay_, and called their colony _plimouth_, since old _plimouth, an. dom., _." the annotator had written, on the margin, "_gross blunder_," and, in both instances, run his indignant pen through , and substituted . there are others, doubtless, who would have done the same thing. the first aspect of the thing is certainly very tempting. the text, nevertheless, is undoubtedly correct. it is altogether likely, that the matter, stated by josselyn, can be found, so stated by no other writer. in , gosnold discovered the elizabeth islands, and built a house, and erected palisades, on the "island elizabeth," the westernmost of the group, whose indian name was cuttyhunk. in , dr. jeremy belknap visited this interesting spot. "_we had the supreme satisfaction_," says he, am. biog. ii. , "_to find the cellar of gosnold's store-house_!" hutchinson, i. , refers expressly to the passage, in josselyn; and after stating that gosnold discovered the elizabeth islands, in , and built a fort there, and intended a settlement, but could not persuade his people to remain, he adds, in a note--"_this, i suppose, is what josselyn, and no other author, calls the first colony of new plimouth, for he says it was begun in , and near narragansett bay_." the writer of a "topographical description of new bedford," m. h. c., iv. , states, that the island, on which gosnold built his fort and store-house, was _nashaun_, and refers to dr. belknap's biography. the new bedford writer is wrong, in point of fact, and right, in point of reference. dr. belknap published the first volume of his biography, in , containing a short notice of gosnold, in which, p. , he says--"the island, on which gosnold and his companions took up their abode, is now called by its indian name, _nashaun_, and is the property of the hon. james bowdoin, of boston, to whom i am indebted for these remarks on gosnold's journal." the writer of the description of new bedford published his account, the following year, and relied on dr. belknap, who unfortunately relied on his informant, who, it seems, was entirely mistaken. dr. belknap published his second volume, in , with a new and more extended memoir of gosnold, in which, p. , he remarks--"the account of gosnold's voyage and discovery, in the first volume of this work, is so erroneous, from the misinformation, which i had received, that i thought it best to write the whole of it anew. the former mistakes are here corrected, partly from the best information which i could obtain, after the most assiduous inquiry; but principally from _my own observations_, on the spot; compared with the journal of the voyage, more critically examined than before." here is abundant evidence of that scrupulous regard for historical truth, for which that upright and excellent man was ever remarkable. with most writers, the pride of authorship would have revolted. the very thought of these _vestigia retrorsum_, would not have found toleration, for a moment. some less offensive mode might have been adopted, by the employment of _errata_, or _appendices_, or _addenda_. not so: this conscientious man, however innocently, had misled the public, upon a few historical points, and nothing would give him satisfaction, but a public recantation. his right hand had not been the agent, like cranmer's, of voluntary falsehood, but of unintentional mistake, like scævola's; and nothing would suffice, in his opinion, but the actual cautery. in this second life of gosnold, p. , after describing "the island elizabeth," or cuttyhunk, dr. belknap says--"to this spot i went, on the th day of june, , in company with several gentlemen, whose curiosity and obliging kindness induced them to accompany me. the protecting hand of nature had reserved this favorite spot to herself. its fertility and its productions are exactly the same, as in gosnold's time, excepting the wood, of which there is none. every species of what he calls 'rubbish,' with strawberries, pears, tansy, and other fruits, and herbs, appear in rich abundance, unmolested by any animal but aquatic birds. we had the supreme satisfaction to find the cellar of gosnold's store-house." "_we had the supreme satisfaction to find the cellar of gosnold's store-house!_"--a whole-souled ejaculation this! i reverence the memory of the man who made it. it is not every other man we meet on 'change, who can estimate a sentiment like this. my little jew friend, in griper's alley, entirely mistakes the case. never having heard of bart gosnold before, he takes him, for the like of kidd; and the venerable dr. jeremy belknap, for a gold-finder. what _supreme satisfaction_ could there be, in discovering the cellar of a store-house, nearly two hundred years old, unless hidden treasures were there concealed! how, in the name of two per cent. a month, and all the other gods we worship, could a visit down to cuttyhunk ever _pay_, only to stare at the stones of an ancient cellar! dr. belknap's ejaculation reminds one of divers interesting matters--of archimedes, when he leaped from his bath, and ran about naked, for joy, with _eureka_ on his lips, having excogitated the plan, for detecting the fraud, practised upon hiero.--it also recalls--_parvis componere magna_--johnson's memorable exclamation, upon walking over the graves, at icolmkill--"to abstract the mind from all local emotion would be impossible, if it were endeavored, and would be foolish, if it were possible. whatever withdraws us from the power of our senses; whatever makes the past, the distant or the future predominate over the present, advances us in the dignity of thinking beings. far from me and from my friends be such frigid philosophy, as may conduct as indifferent and unmoved over any ground, which has been dignified by wisdom, bravery or virtue. that man is little to be envied, whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plains of marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of iona." dr. jeremy belknap was a boston boy, born june , . he learned his rudiments, under the effective birch of master lovell; graduated a. m. at harvard, , s. t. d. . he was ordained pastor of the church in dover, n. h. ; and in , he became pastor of the church in berry street, formerly known as johnny moorehead's, who was settled there in , and succeeded, by david annan, in , and which is now dr. gannett's. dr. belknap was the founder of the massachusetts historical society, and one of the most earnest promoters of the welfare of harvard college. dr. belknap published sermons, on various occasions; a volume of dissertations, on the character and resurrection of christ; his history of new hampshire in three volumes; his american biography, in two volumes; and the foresters, an american tale, well worthy of republication, at the present day. he wrote extensively, in the newspapers, and published several essays, on the slave trade, and upon the early settlement of the country. i have the most perfect recollection of this excellent man; for i saw him often, when i was very young; and i used to wonder, how a man, with so rough a voice, could bestow such a benign and captivating smile, upon little boys. the churchman prays to be delivered from _sudden_ death. dr. belknap prayed for _sudden_ death--that he might be translated "_in a moment_"--such were his words. yet here is no discrepancy. no man, prepared to die, will pray for a lingering death--and to him, who is not prepared, no death, however prolonged, can be other than _sudden_ and premature. on the ninth of february, , dr. belknap was called to mourn the loss of a friend, whose death was immediate. among the dr.'s papers, after his decease, the following lines were found, bearing the date of that friend's demise, and exhibiting, with considerable felicity of language, his own views and aspirations:-- "when faith and patience, hope and love have made us meet for heav'n above; how blest the privilege to rise, snatch'd, in a moment, to the skies! unconscious, to resign our breath, nor taste the bitterness of death! such be my lot, lord, if thou please to die in silence, and at ease; when thou dost know, that i'm prepared, oh seize me quick to my reward. but, if thy wisdom sees it best, to turn thine ear from this request; if sickness be th' appointed way, to waste this frame of human clay; if, worn with grief, and rack'd with pain, this earth must turn to earth again; then let thine angels round me stand; support me, by thy powerful hand; let not my faith or patience move, nor aught abate my hope or love; but brighter may my graces shine, till they're absorbed in light divine." the will of the lord coincided with the wish of this eminent disciple; and his was the sudden death, that he had asked of god. at o'clock in the morning of june , , paralysis seized upon his frame, and, before noon, he was no more. personal considerations of the flesh cannot be supposed, alone, to have moved the heart of this benevolent man. who would not wish to avoid that pain, which is reflected, for days, and weeks, and months, and years, from the faces of those we love, who watch, and weep, about the bed of disease and death! who can imagine this veteran soldier of the cross, with his armor of righteousness, upon the right hand and upon the left, awaiting the welcome signal to depart--without adopting, in the spiritual, and in the physical, sense, the language of the prophet--"_let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his_." no. lxxvi. i never dream, if i can possibly avoid it--when the thing is absolutely forced upon me, why that is another affair. on the evening of the second day of january, , from some inexplicable cause, i lost all appetite for my pillow. i had, till past eleven, been engaged, in the perusal of goethe's confessions of a fair saint. after a vain trial of the commonplace expedients, such as counting leaping sheep, up to a thousand and one; humming old hundred; and fixing my thoughts upon the heads of good parson cleverly's last sabbath sermon, on perseverance; i, fortunately, thought of joel barlow's columbiad, and, after two or three pages, went, thankfully, to bed. i threw myself upon my right side, as i always do; for, being deaf--very--in the sinister ear, i thus exclude the nocturnal cries of fire, oysters, and murder. i think i must have been asleep, full half an hour, by a capital shrewsbury clock, that i keep in my chamber. it was, of course, on the dawning side of twelve--the very time, when dreams are true, or poets lie, which latter alternative is impossible. i was aroused, by the stroke of a deep-toned bell; and, in an instant, sat bolt upright, listening to the sound. i should have known it, among a thousand--it was the old passing bell of king's chapel. i am confident, as to the bell--it had the full, jarring sound, occasioned by the blockhead of a sexton, who cracked it, in . i counted the strokes--one--two--three--an adult male, of course--and then the age--seventy-four was the number of the strokes of that good old bell, corresponding with the years of his pilgrimage--and then a pause--i almost expected another--so, doubtless, did he, poor man--but it came not!--some old stager, thought i, has put up, for the long night; and the power of slumber was upon me, in a moment. i slept--but it was a fitful sleep--and i dreamt such a dream, as none but a sexton of the old school can ever dream-- --------"velut ægri somnia, vanæ fingentur species, ut nec pes, nec caput uni reddatur formæ." "funeral baked meats," and bride's cake, and weepers, and wedding rings seemed oddly consorted together. at one moment, two very light and airy skeletons seemed to be engaged, in dancing the polka; and, getting angry, flung their skulls furiously at each other. i then fancied, that i saw old grossman, driving his hearse at a full run, with the corpse of an intemperate old lady, not to the graveyard, but, by mistake, to the very shop, where she bought her jamaica. i dare not relate the half of my dream, lest i should excite some doubt of my veracity. for aught i know, i might have dreamt on till midsummer, had not a hand been laid on my shoulder, and a change come over the spirit of my dream, in a marvellous manner--for i actually dreamt i was wider awake, than i often am, when sirius rages, of a summer afternoon, and i am taking my comfort, in my postprandial chair. starting suddenly, i beheld the well known features of an old acquaintance and fellow-spadesman--"don't you know me?" "yes," said i--"no, i can't say i do"--for i was confoundedly frightened--"not know me! haven't we lifted, head and foot, together, for six and thirty years?" "well, i suppose we have; but you are so deadly pale; and, will you be so kind as to take your hand from my shoulder; for it's rather airy, at this season, you know, and your palm is like the hand of death." "and such it is," said he--"did you not hear my bell?" "_your_ bell?" i inquired, gazing more intently, at the little, white-haired, old man, that stood before me. "even so, abner," he replied; "your old friend, and fellow-laborer, martin smith, is dead. i always had a solemn affection, for the passing bell. it sounded not so pleasantly, to be sure, in the neighborhood of theatres and gay hotels; and its good, old, solemnizing tones are no longer permitted to be heard. i longed to hear it, once more; and, after they had laid me out, and left me alone, i clapped on my great coat, over my shroud, as you see, and ran up to the church, and tolled my own death peal. when, more than one hundred years ago, in , dr. caner took possession, in the old way, by entering, and closing the doors, and tolling the bell, as the rev. roger price had done before, in , he did not feel, that the church belonged to him, half so truly as i have felt, for many years, whenever i got a fair grip of that ancient bell-rope." "martin," said i, "this is rather a long speech, for a ghost; and must be wearying to the spirit; suppose you sit down." this i said, because i really supposed the good, little, old man, contrary to all his known habits, was practising upon my credulity--perhaps upon my fears; and was playing a new year's prank, in his old age: and i resolved, by the smallest touch of sarcasm in the world, to show him, that i was not so easily deceived. he made no reply; but, drawing my hand between his great coat and shroud, placed it over the region of his heart--"good god! you are really dead then, martin!" said i, for all was cold and still there. "i am," he replied. "i have lived long--did you count the strokes of my bell?"--i nodded assent, for i could not speak.--"four years beyond the scriptural measure of man's pilgrimage. you are not so old as i am"--"no," i replied.--"no, not quite," said he.--"no, no, martin," said i, adjusting my night cap, "not by several years."--"well," said the old man, with a sigh, "a few years make very little difference, when one has so many to answer for; those odd years are like a few odd shillings, in a very long account. i have come to ask you to go with me."--a cold sweat broke through my skin, as quickly, as if it had been mere tissue paper; and my mind instantly sprang to the work of finding devices, for putting the old man off. "surely," said he, observing my reluctance, "you would not deny the request of a dying man." "perhaps not," i replied, "but now that you are dead, dear martin, for heaven's sake, what's the use of it?" the old man seemed to be pained, by my hesitation--"abner," said he, after a short pause, "you and i have had a goodly number of strange passages, at odd hours, down in that vault--are ye afeard, abner--eh!"--"why, as to that, martin," said i, "if you were a real, live sexton, i'd go with pleasure; but our relations are somewhat changed, you will admit. besides, as i told you before, i cannot see the use of it." i felt rather vexed, to be suspected of fear. "you have the advantage of me, abner wycherly," said martin smith, "being alive; and i have come to ask you to do a favor, for me, which i cannot do, for myself."--"what is it?" said i, rather impatiently, perhaps.--"i want you to embalm my"--"martin," said i, interrupting him--"i can't--i never embalmed in my life." "you misunderstand me"--the old man replied--"i want you to embalm my memory; and preserve it, from the too common lot of our profession, who are remembered, often, as resurrectionists, and men of intemperate lives, and mysterious conversations. i want you to allow me a little _niche_, among your _dealings with the dead_. i shall take but little room, you see for yourself"--and then, in an under-tone, he said something about thinking more of the honor, than he should of a place in westminster abbey; which was very agreeable, to be sure, notwithstanding the sepulchral tone, in which it was uttered. indeed i was surprised to find how very refreshing, to the spirits of an author, this species of extreme unction might be, administered even by a ghost. "martin," said i, "i have always thought highly of your good opinion; but what can i say--how can i serve you?" "i am desirous," said he, "of transmitting to my children a good name, which is better than riches."--"well, my worthy, old fellow-laborer," i replied, "if that is all you want, the work is done to your hand, already. you will not suspect me of flattering you to your face, now that you are dead, martin; and i can truly say, that i have heard thousands speak of you, with great kindness and respect, and never a lisp against you. all this i am ready to vouch for--but, for what purpose, do you ask me to go with you?" "i wish you to go with me, and examine for yourself," said the old man; "and then you can speak, of your own knowledge. don't refuse me--let us have one more of those cozy walks, abner, under the old chapel, and over that yard. i desire to talk over some things with you there, which can be better understood, upon the spot--and i want to explain one or two matters, so that you may be able to defend my reputation, should any censure be cast upon it, after i am gone."--"i cannot go with you tonight, martin," said i; "i see a gleam in the east, already."--"true," said he, "i may be missed."--for not more than the half of one second, i closed my eyes--and, in that twinkling of an eye, he was gone--but i heard him whisper, distinctly, as he went--"_tomorrow night_!" no. lxxvii. i verily believe, that ghosts are the most punctual people in the world, especially if they were ever sextons, after the flesh. the last stroke of twelve had not ceased ringing in my ears, when that icy palm was again laid upon my shoulder; and martin smith stood by the side of my bed. "well, martin," said i, "since you have taken the trouble to come out again, and upon such a stormy night withal, i cannot refuse your request."--it seemed to me, that i rose to put on my garments, and found them already on; and had scarcely prepared to go, with my old friend, to the chapel, before we were in the middle of the broad aisle. dreams are marvellous things, certainly--all this was a dream, i suppose--for, if it was not--what was it? there seemed to be an oppressive weight, upon the mind of my old friend, connected, doubtless, with those explanations, which he had proposed to make, upon the spot. we sat down, near governor shirley's monument. "abner," said he, "i wish, before i am buried, to make a clean breast, and to confess my misdeeds."--"i cannot believe, martin," i replied, "that there is a very heavy, professional load upon your conscience. if there is, i know not what will become of the rest of us. but i will hearken to all you may choose to reveal."--"well," resumed the old man, with a sigh, "i have tried to be conscientious, but we are all liable to error--we are are all fallible creatures, especially sextons. i have been sexton here, for six and thirty years; and i am often painfully reminded, that, in the year , i was rather remiss, in dusting the pews."--"have you any other burden upon your conscience?"--"i have," he replied; and, rising, requested me to follow him. he went out into the yard, and walked near the northerly corner, where dr. caner's house formerly stood, which was afterwards occupied, as the boston athenæum, and, more recently, gave place to the present savings bank. "here," said he, "thirty years ago, dinah furbush, a worthy, negro woman, was buried. the careless carpenter made her coffin one foot too short; and, to conceal his blunder, chopped off dinah's head, and, clapping it between her feet, nailed down the lid. this scandalous transaction came to my knowledge, and i grieve to say, that i never communicated it to the wardens."--"well, martin," said i, "what more?"--"nothing, thank heaven!" he replied. giving way to an irresistible impulse, i broke forth into a roar of laughter, so long and loud, that three watchmen gathered to the wall, and seeing martin smith, whom they well knew, with the bottom of his shroud, exhibited below his great coat, they dropped their hooks and rattles, and ran for their lives. martin walked slowly back to the church, and i followed. he walked in, among the tombs--thousands of spirits seemed to welcome his advent--but, as i crossed the threshold, at the tramp of a living foot, they vanished, in a moment. "how many corpses have you lifted, my old friend, in your six and thirty years of office?" "about five thousand," he replied, "exclusive of babies. it is a very grateful employment, when one becomes used to it." "i have heard," continued martin, "that the office of executioner, in paris, is highly respectable, and has been hereditary, for many years, in the family of the sansons. i have done all in my power, to elevate our profession; and it is my highest ambition, that the office should continue in my family; and that my descendants may be sextons, till the graves shall give up their dead, and death itself be swallowed up in victory." i was sensibly touched, by the enthusiasm of this good old official; for i honor the man, who honors his calling. i could not refrain from saying a few kind and respectful words, of the old man's son and successor. he was moved--"the eyes of ghosts," said he, "are tearless, or i should weep. you have heard," continued the old man, in a low, tremulous voice, "that, when the mother of washington was complimented, by some distinguished men, upon the achievements of her son, she went on with her knitting, saying, '_well, george always was a good boy_'--now, i need say no more of frank; and, in truth, i can say no less. i knew he would be a sexton. he has forgotten it, i dare say; but he was not satisfied with the first go-cart he ever had, till he had fashioned it, like a hearse. he _took hold right_, from the beginning. when i resigned, and gave him the keys, and felt, that i should no more walk up and down the broad aisle, as i had done, for so many years, i wept like a child." "yours has been a hale old age. you have always been _temperate_, i believe," said i.--"no," the old man replied, "i have always been _abstinent_. like yourself, i use no intoxicating drink, upon any occasion, nor tobacco, in any of its forms, and we have come, as you say, to a hale old age. i have seen drunken sextons squirt tobacco juice over the coffin and pall; and let the corpse go by the run; and i know more than one successor of st. peter, in this city, who smoke and chew, from morning to night; and give the sextons great trouble, in cleaning up after them." we had advanced midway, among the tombs.--"it is awfully cold and dark here, martin," said i, "and i hear something, like a mysterious breathing in the air; and, now and then, it seems as if a feather brushed my cheek."--"is it unpleasant?" said the old man.--"not particularly agreeable," i replied.--"the spirits are aware, that another is added to their number," said he, "and even the presence of one, in the flesh, will scarcely restrain them from coming forth. i will send them back to their dormitories." he lighted a spirit lamp, not in the vulgar sense of that word, but a lamp, before whose rays no spirit, however determined, could stand, for an instant. there is comfort, even in a farthing rush light--i felt warmer. "what a subterraneous life you must have had of it," said i, "and how many tears and sighs you must have witnessed!" "why yes," he replied, with a shake of the head, and a sigh, "the duties of my office have given to my features an expression of universal compassion--a sort of omnibus look, which has caused many a mourner to say--'ah, mr. smith, i see how much you feel for me.' and i'm sure i did; not perhaps quite so keenly as i might, if i had been less frequently encored in the performance of my melancholy part. yes," continued the old man--"i have witnessed tears and sighs, and deep grief, and shallow, and raving--for a month, and life-long; very proper tears, gushing from the eyes of widows, already wooed and won; and from the eyes of widowers, who, in a right melancholy way, had predetermined the mothers, for their orphan children. but passages have occurred, now and then, all in my sad vocation, pure and holy, and soul-stirring enough, to give pulse to a heart of stone." the old man took from his pocket a master key, and beckoned me to follow. he opened an ancient tomb. the mouldy shells were piled one upon another, and a few rusty fragments of that flimsy garniture, which was in vogue of old, had fallen on the bricks below. "_sacred to the memory!_" said the old man, with a sad, significant smile, upon his intelligent features, as he removed the coffin of a child. i looked into the little receptacle, as he raised the lamp. "this," said he, "was the most beautiful boy i ever buried." "this?" said i, for the little narrow house contained nothing but a small handful of grayish dust. "aye," he replied, "i see; it is all gone now--it is twelve years since i looked at it last--there were some remnants of bones then, and a lock or two of golden hair. this small deposit was one of the first that i made, in this melancholy savings bank. six-and-thirty years! so tender and so frail a thing may well be turned to dust. "time is an alchymist, abner, as you and i well know. if tears could have embalmed, it would not have been thus. i have never witnessed such agony. the poor, young mother lies there. she was not seventeen, when she died. in a luckless hour, she married a very gentlemanly sot, and left her native home, for a land of strangers. hers was the common fate of such unequal bargains. he wasted her little property, died of intemperance, and left her nothing, but this orphan boy. and all the love of her warm, young heart was turned upon this child. it had, to be sure, the sweetest, catching smile, that i ever beheld. "their heart strings seemed twisted together--the child pined; and the mother grew pale and wan. they waned together. the child died first. the poor, lone, young mother seemed frantic; and refused to part with her idol. after the little thing was made ready for the tomb, she would not suffer it to be removed. it was laid upon the bed, beside her. on the following day, i carried the coffin to the house; and, leaving it below, went up, with a kind neighbor, to the chamber, hoping to prevail upon the poor thing, to permit us to remove the body of the child. she was holding her little boy, clasped in her arms--their lips were joined together--'it is a pity to awaken her,' said the neighbor, who attended me--i put my hand upon her forehead--'nothing but the last trump will awaken her,' said i--'she is dead.'" "well, martin," said i, "pray let us talk of something else--where is old isaac johnson, the founder of the city, who was buried, in this lot, in ?"--"ah"--the old man replied--"the prophets, where are _they_! i believe you may as well look among the embers, after a conflagration, for the original spark." "you must know many curious things, martin," said i, "concerning this ancient temple."--"i do," said he, "of my own knowledge, and still more, by tradition; and some things, that neither the wardens nor vestry wot of. if i thought i might trust you, abner, in a matter of such moment, but"--"did i ever deceive you, martin," said i, "while living; and do you think i would take advantage of your confidence, now you are a ghost?"--"pardon me, abner," he replied, for he saw, that he had wounded my feelings, "but the matter, to which i allude, were it made public, would produce terrible confusion--but i will trust you--meet me here, at ten minutes before twelve, on sabbath night--three low knocks upon the outer door--at present i can reveal no more."--"no postponement, on account of the weather?" i inquired.--"none," the old man replied, and locked up the tomb. "did you ever see dr. caner," i inquired, as we ascended into the body of the church.--"that," replied martin smith, "is rather a delicate question. in the very year, in which i was born, , the rev. doctor henry caner, then an old man, carried off the church plate, ounces of silver, the gift of three kings; of which not a particle has ever been recovered: and, in lieu thereof, he left behind his fervent prayers, that god would "_change the hearts of the rebels_." this the almighty has never seen fit to do--so that the society have not only lost the silver, but the benefit of dr. caner's prayers. no, abner, i have never seen dr. caner, according to the flesh, but--ask me nothing further, on this highly exciting subject, till we meet again." i awoke, sorely disturbed--martin had vanished. no. lxxviii. i know not why, but the idea of another meeting with martin smith, notwithstanding my affectionate respect, for that good old man, disturbed me so much, that i resolved, to be out of his way, by keeping awake. but, in defiance of my very best efforts, strengthened by a bowl of unsugared hyson, at half past eleven, if i err not, i fell into a profound slumber; and, at the very appointed moment, found myself, at the chapel door. at the third knock, it opened, with an almost alarming suddenness--i quietly entered--and the old man closed it softly, after me. "in ten minutes," said he, "the congregation will assemble."--"what," i inquired, "at this time of night?"--"be silent," said he, rather angrily, as i thought; and, drawing me, by the arm, to the north side of the door, he shoved me against the vassal monument, with a force, that i would not have believed it possible, for any modern ghost to exert. "be still and listen," said he. "in , my dear, old pastor, dr. freeman, came here, as reader; and became rector, in . dr. caner was inducted, in , and continued rector, twenty-nine years; for, as i told you, he went off with the plate, in . there were no rectors, between those two. brockwell and troutbeck were caner's assistants only: the first died in , and the last left, the year before dr. caner." "well," continued the old man, "never reveal what i am about to tell you, abner wycherly--the trinitarians have never surrendered their claims, upon this church; and, precisely at midnight, upon every sabbath, since , dr. caner and the congregation have gathered here; and the church service has been performed, just as it used to be, before the revolution. they make short work of it, rarely exceeding fifteen minutes--hush, for your life--they are coming!" a glare of unearthly light, invisible through the windows, as martin assured me, to all without, filled the tabernacle, in an instant--exceedingly like gas light; and, at the same instant, i heard a rattling, resembling the down-sitting, after prayers, in a village meeting-house, where the seats are clappers, and go on hinges. observing, that my jaws chattered, martin pressed my hand in his icy fingers, and whispered, that it was nothing but dr. caner's congregation, coming up, rather less silently, of course, than when they were in the flesh. being the first sunday in the month, all the communion plate, that caner carried off, was paraded, on the altar. i wish the twelve apostles could have seen it. it glittered, like jones, ball & poor's bow-window, viewed from the old, donnison corner. the whole interior of the chapel was marvellously changed. i was much struck, by a showy, gilt crown, over the organ, supported by a couple of gilt mitres. this was the famous organ, said to have been selected by handel, and which came over in . at this moment, a brief and sudden darkness hid everything from view; succeeded, instantly, by a brighter light than before; and all was changed. the organ had vanished; the monuments of shirley and apthorp, and the tablet of price, over the vestry door, were gone; i looked behind me, for the vassal monument, against which i had been leaning; it was no longer there. martin smith perceived my astonishment, and whispered, that dr. caner was never so partial to the stone chapel, which was opened in , as he was to the ancient king's chapel, in which he had been inducted in , and in which we then were. the pews were larger than any hingham boxes i ever saw; but very small. the pulpit was on the north side. in front of it was the governor's pew, highly ornamented, lined with china silk; the cushions and chairs therein were covered with crimson damask, and the window curtain was of the same material. near to this, i saw an elevated pew, in which were half a dozen fine looking skeletons, with their heads up and their arms akimbo. this pew, martin informed me, was reserved, for the officers of the army and navy. a small organ was in the western gallery, said to be the first, ever heard in our country. from the walls and pillars, hung several escutcheons and armorial bearings. i distinguished those of the royal family, and of andros, nicholson, hamilton, dudley, shute, belcher, and shirley. i had always associated the _hour-glass_ with my ideas of a presbyterian pulpit, in the olden time, when the very length of the discourse gave the hearer some little foretaste of eternity. i was rather surprised to see an hour-glass, of large proportions, perched upon the pulpit, in its highly ornamented stand of brass. the altar-piece was at the easterly end of the church, with the glory, the ten commandments, the lord's prayer, the creed, and some texts of scripture. the congregation had taken their seats; and a slender, sickly looking skeleton glided into the reading desk. "dr. caner?" said i. "brockwell, the assistant," replied martin, in a whisper, "the very first wardens, of , are in the pew, tonight, bullivant and banks. they all serve in rotation. next sabbath, we shall have foxcroft and ravenscroft. clerke hill, and rutley are sextons, tonight." the services were very well conducted; and, taking all things into consideration, i was surprised, that i comprehended so well, as i did. the prayer, for the royal family, was very impressively delivered. the assistant made use, i observed, of the athanasian creed, and every one seemed to understand it, at which i was greatly surprised. dr. caner seemed very feeble, and preached a very short discourse upon the loss of esau's birthright, making a pointed application, to the conversion of king's chapel, by the unitarians. he made rather a poor case of it, i thought. martin was so much offended, that he said, though being a ghost, he was obliged to be quiet, he wished i would call the watch, and break up the meeting. i told him, that i did not believe dr. caner's arguments would have any very mischievous effect; and it seemed not more than fair, that these ancient worshippers should have the use of the church, at midnight, so long as they conducted themselves orderly--consumed no fuel--and furnished their own light. one of the sextons, passing near me, accidentally dropped a small parcel. i was seized with a vehement desire of possessing it; and, watching my opportunity, conveyed it to my pocket. when dr. caner pronounced his final amen, light was instantly turned into darkness--a slight noise ensued--"_the service is over!_" said martin, and all was still. i begged martin to light his lamp; and, by its light, i examined the parcel the sexton had dropped. it was a small roll, containing some extracts from the records. they were not without interest. "sept. , .--it must not be forgot that sir robert robertson gave a new silk damask cushion and cloth pulpit-cover." " .--whit sunday. paid mr. coneyball, for buying and carting poses and hanging the doares s." "dec. .--paid for a stone gug clark hill broak." "march , .--paid mr. shelson for loucking after the boyes £ ." " , aug. .--paid for scouring the brass frame for the hour-glass s." " , oct. .--voted that the brass stand for the hour-glass be lent to the church of scituate, as also three diaper napkins, provided mr. addington davenport, their minister, gives his note to return the same to the church wardens of the church, &c." "april , .--rec'd of mr. sylvester gardner sixteen pounds two shills, in full for wine for the chapple for the year past. john hancock." i was about to put this fragment of the record into my pocket--"if," said martin, "you do not particularly covet a visit from clark hill, or whichever of the old sextons it was, that dropped that paper, leave it, as you found it." i did so, most joyfully. "if you have any questions to ask of me," said the old man, "ask them now, and briefly, for we are about to part--to meet no more, until we meet, as i trust we shall, in a better world." "as a mere matter of curiosity," said i, "i should like to know, if you consider your venerable pastor, now dead and gone, dr. freeman, as the successor of saint peter?" "no more," said martin smith, with an expression almost too comical for a ghost, "than i consider you and myself successors of the sexton, who, under the directions of abraham, buried sarah, in the cave of the field of machpelah, before mamre." "do you consider the apostolical succession broken off, at the time of dr. freeman's ordination?" "short off, like a pipe stem," he replied. "and so you do not consider the laying on of a bishop's hand necessary, to empower a man to preach the gospel?" "no more," said he, "than i consider the laying on of spades, necessary to empower a man, to dig a grave. we were a peculiar people, but quite as zealous for good works, as any of our neighbors. the bishop of new york declined to ordain our pastor, because we were unitarians; and we could not expect this service from our neighbors, had it been otherwise, on account of our adherence to the liturgy, though modified, and to certain episcopal forms--so we ordained him ourselves. the senior warden laid his hands upon the good man and true--said nothing of the thirty-nine articles--but gave him a bible, as the sole compass for his voyage, in full confidence, that, while he steered thereby, we should be upon our course, to the haven, where we would be. we have never felt the want of the succession, for a moment, and, ever since, we have been a most happy and u----." just then a distant steam whistle struck upon the ear, which martin, undoubtedly, mistook, for cock-crowing--for his lamp was extinguished, in an instant, and he vanished. if my confidence in dreams needed any confirmation, nothing more could be required, than a careful comparison of many of these incidents, with the statements, in the history of king's chapel, published by the late, amiable rector, seventeen years ago. a copy is, at this moment, beneath my eye; and, upon the fly leaf, in the author's own hand writing, under date jan. , , i read--"_presented to martin smith, for many years, a sexton of this church, from his friend f. w. p. greenwood_." aye; every one was the _friend_ of good old martin smith. here, deposited among the leaves of this book, is an order, from that excellent man, my honored friend, colonel joseph may, then junior warden. it bears date "saturday, june, ." it is laconic, and to the point. "_toll slow!_" this also is subscribed "_your friend_." yes, every one was the friend of martin smith. he was a spruce, little, old man--especially at christmas. no. lxxix. nothing can be more entirely unfounded, than the popular notion, that circumstantial evidence is an inferior quality of proof. the most able writers, on the law of evidence, have always maintained the contrary. sir william blackstone and sir matthew hale, it is true, have expressed the very just and humane opinion, that circumstantial evidence should be weighed with extreme caution; and the latter has expressly said, that, in trials, for murder and manslaughter, no conviction ought ever to be had, until the fact is clearly proven, or the body of the person, alleged to have been killed, has been discovered; for he stated, that two instances had occurred, within his own knowledge, in which, after the execution of the accused, the persons, supposed to have been murdered, had reäppeared alive. probably, one of the most extraordinary cases of fatal confidence in circumstantial evidence, recorded, in the history of british, criminal jurisprudence, is that, commonly referred to, as the case of "_hayes and bradford_." in that case, a murder was certainly committed; the body of the murdered man was readily found; the murderer escaped; and, after many years, confessed the crime, in a dying hour; and another person, who had designed to commit the murder, but found his intended victim, already slain, was arrested, as the murderer; and, after an elaborate trial, suffered for the crime, upon the gallows. there is a case in the criminal jurisprudence of our own country, in all its strange particulars, far surpassing the british example, to which i have referred; and attended by circumstances, almost incredible, were the evidence and vouchers less respectable, than they are. i refer to the case of stephen and jesse boorn, who were tried, for the murder of russell colvin, and convicted, before the supreme judicial court of the state of vermont, in october, . in this remarkable case, it must be observed, that the judges appeared to have acted, in utter disregard of that merciful caution of sir matthew hale, to which i have alluded; and that these miserable men were rescued, from their impending fate, in a most remarkable manner. it is my purpose to present a clear and faithful account of this occurrence; and, to enable the reader to go along with me, step by step, with perfect confidence, in a matter, in which, from the marvellous character of the circumstances, to doubt would be extremely natural, i will first exhibit the sources, from which the elements of this narrative are drawn. i. the public journals of the day, published in vermont. ii. "mystery developed, &c., by the rev. lemuel haynes, hartford, ." iii. a sermon, on the occasion, by the same. iv. "a brief sketch of the indictment, trial, and conviction of stephen and jesse boorn, for the murder of russell colvin, by s. putnam waldo, hartford." v. "a collection of remarkable events, by leonard deming. middlebury, ." vi. "journals of the general assembly of the state of vermont, for , october session," in which, page , may be found the minutes of the testimony, taken on the trial, and certified up, by judge chace, to the legislature, by request, on petition, for a commutation of punishment. vii. law reporter, published in boston, vol. v. page . viii. trial of stephen and jesse boorn, rutland, . ix. remarks thereon, n. a. review, vol. x. page . x. greenleaf's treatise on evidence, vol. i. page , note . xi. cooley's memoir of rev. lemuel haynes, n. y., . in the village of manchester, bennington county, and state of vermont, there resided in , an old man, whose name was barney boorn, who had two sons, stephen and jesse, and a daughter sarah, who had married russell colvin. like the conies of the bible, these people were _a feeble folk_--their mental powers were slender--they grew up in ignorance--their lot was poverty. colvin, in particular, was, notoriously, an _imbecile_. he had been, for a long period, partially deranged. he was incompetent to manage the concerns of his family. he moved about in an idle, wandering way, and was perfectly inoffensive; and the wilful destruction of such a man would have been the murder of an _innocent_. in may, , russell colvin was missing from home. this, in consideration of his uncertain habits, occasioned, at first, but little surprise. but his continued absence, for days, and weeks, and months, produced very considerable excitement, in the village of manchester. this excitement naturally increased, with the term of his absence; and the contagion began, ere long, to catch upon the neighboring towns; until the most exciting topic of the day, throughout that portion of the hampshire grants, in the absence of mad dogs and revivals, was the mysterious disappearance of russell colvin. rumors began to spread, from lip to lip. suspicion, like a hungry leech--"a german one"--fastened upon the boorns. nor was this suspicion groundless. thomas johnson, a neighbor of all the parties, a credible witness, who swore to the facts, seven years after, on the trial, reported, that the last time he saw russell colvin was immediately before his remarkable disappearance, and that he and the boorns were then quarrelling, while engaged in picking up stones. lewis colvin, the son of russell, with manifest reluctance, stated, that, just before his father's disappearance, a quarrel took place, between his father and stephen--that his father struck stephen first--that stephen then knocked his father down twice with a club--that he, the boy, was frightened and ran away--that stephen told him never to mention what had happened--and that he had never seen his father since. here, doubtless, was legitimate ground, for suspicion, and the village of manchester, on the battenkill, was in a state of universal fermentation--the very atmosphere seemed redolent of murder. it is marvellous, in what manner the boorns escaped from being lynched, without trial; and, more especially, how stephen was preserved, from the fate of his namesake, the martyr. a shortlived calm followed this tempest of popular feeling--parties were formed--some were sure the boorns were the murderers of colvin--some were inclined to believe they were not. the boorns continued to dwell in the village, _without any effort to escape_; and the evidence against them was not deemed legally sufficient then, even to authorize their arrest. it appeared, upon the statement of mrs. colvin, that stephen and jesse, her brothers, had told her, upon a certain occasion, that she might be satisfied her husband was dead, and that _they knew it_. this additional fact gave fresh impulse to the popular excitement. in such miserable society, as may be supposed to have remained to these suspected men, it is not wonderful, that they should often have encountered the most unsparing allusions, and vulgar interrogatories--nor that they should have met this species of persecution, with equally vulgar and unflinching replies. it became well established, ere long, upon the declarations of a mr. baldwin and his wife, that, when asked where colvin had gone, one of the boorns replied, that he had "_gone to hell_"--and the other that he had "_gone where potatoes would not freeze_." it is not wonderful, that, upon such evidence, the daughters of manchester should begin to prophecy, and the young men to see visions, and the old men to dream dreams. in the language of one, who has briefly described the condition of that village, during this period of intense excitement--"_every house was haunted with the ghost of colvin_." at length, a respectable man, a paternal uncle of the boorns, began to dream, in good earnest. the ghost of colvin appeared to him, and told him, upon his honor, that he had been murdered; and indicated the place, with unmistakable precision, where his body lay concealed. like a bill, which cannot pass to enactment, until after a third reading, the declarations of a ghost are not entitled to the slightest regard, until after a third repetition. every sensible ghost knows this, of course. the ghost of colvin seems to have understood his business perfectly; and he manifested a very commendable delicacy, in selecting one of the family, for his confidant. three times, in perfect conformity with acknowledged precedent, the ghost of colvin announced the fact of his murder, and indicated the place, where his body was concealed. to put a slight upon a respectable ghost, in perfectly good standing, who had taken all this trouble, was entirely out of the question. accordingly, the uncle of the boorns summoned his neighbors--announced these revelations--gathered a posse--proceeded to dig in the hole, so particularly indicated by the ghost--and, after digging to a great depth, succeeded completely, in discovering nothing of any human remains. indeed he was as unsuccessful, as our worthy friend, the warden of the prison, in his recent search for hidden treasure--excepting, that it does not appear, that the ghost made the slightest effort to bury him alive. this movement was productive, nevertheless, of additional testimony, against the boorns. in the hole, were found a jack-knife and a button, both which mrs. colvin solemnly declared to have belonged to her husband. in regard to the location of the body, the ghost was certainly mistaken; perhaps mr. boorn, the uncle, being dull of hearing, might have misunderstood the revelation; and perhaps the memory of the ghost was treacherous. evidence, gathered up by piecemeal, was, nevertheless, gradually enveloping the fate of these miserable men--evidence of a much more substantial material, than dreams are made of. thomas johnson, the witness, above referred to, having purchased the field, where the quarrel took place, between colvin and the boorns, the children of johnson found, while playing there, an old mouldy hat; which johnson asserted, at the time, and afterwards, at the trial, swore, positively, had belonged to colvin. nearly seven years had passed, since the disappearance of russell colvin. stephen boorn had removed from manchester, about five years after the supposed murder; and resided in denmark, lewis county, new york; at the distance of some two hundred miles. jesse still continued in manchester; and _neither of these wretched men, upon any occasion, appears to have attempted flight, or concealment_. stephen boorn, who, as the sequel will abundantly show, seems not to have been entirely deficient, in natural affection, had discovered, after a bitter experience of five long years, that the burden of his sins was not more intolerable, than the oppressive consciousness of the tenure, by which he lived, and moved, and had his being; which tenure was no other, than that, by which cain walked upon the earth, after the murder of abel. stephen boorn gathered up the little, that he had, and went into a far country--not hastily, nor by night--but openly, and in the light of day. jesse, who was, evidently, the weaker brother--the poorer spirit--remained behind; deeming it easier, doubtless, to endure the continued suspicion and contempt of mankind, than to muster enough of energy, to rise and walk. well nigh seven years, as i have stated, had passed, since the disappearance of colvin. a discovery was made, at this period, which left very little doubt, upon the minds of the good people of manchester, that the boorns were guilty of the murder of this unhappy man, and of attempting to conceal his remains, by cremation. no. lxxx. at this period, about seven years after the disappearance of russell colvin, a lad, walking near the house of barney boorn, was attracted, by the movements of a dog, that seemed to have discovered some object of interest, near the stump of an ancient tree, upon the banks of the battenkill river. this stump was about sixty rods from the hole, in which, upon the suggestion of the ghost, the uncle of the boorns, and his curious neighbors had sought for the body of colvin. the lad examined the stump, and discovered the cavity to be filled with bones! had the magnetic been then in operation, the tidings could not have been telegraphed more speedily. the affair was definitively settled--the bones of colvin were discovered; and the ghost appeared to have been only sixty rods out of the way, after all. murder will find a tongue. manchester found thousands. the village was on fire. young men and maidens, old men and children came forth, to gaze upon the bones of the murdered colvin; and to praise the lord, for this providential discovery! whatever the value of it might be--the merit seemed clearly to belong, in equal moieties, to the dog and the ghost. how prone we are--the children of this generation--to reason upon the philosophy, before we weigh the fish! this was a case, if there ever was a case, for the recognition of the principle, _cuique in sua arte credendum est_. accordingly the medical magi of manchester and of its highly excited neighborhood were summoned, to sit in judgment, upon these bones. the question was not--"_can these dry bones live?_"--but are they the bones of the murdered colvin? one, thoughtful practitioner believed there was a previous question, entitled to some little consideration--are these bones the bones of a man, or of a beast? never were scruples more entirely out of place. imagine the indignation of the good people of manchester, at the bare suggestion, that they had wasted so much excellent sympathy, upon the bones, peradventure, of a horse or a heifer! the doubter, as might have been expected, stood alone: but he sturdily persisted. the regular faculty, with the eyes of their well-persuaded patients riveted, encouragingly, upon theirs, expressed their clear conviction, that the bones were human bones, and, if human bones, whose--aye whose--but the murdered colvin's! this gave universal satisfaction, of course. it was evident, that some of these bones had been broken and pounded--the quantity was small, for an entire skeleton--some few bones had been found, beneath a barn, belonging to the father of the boorns, which had been, previously, consumed by fire--and some persons may have supposed, that the murderers, having deposited the dead body there, had destroyed the barn, to conceal their crime--and, finding a part of the body unconsumed, after the conflagration, had deposited that part, in the hollow stump, to be disposed of, at some future moment of convenience. a very plausible theory, beyond all doubt. but the doubting doctor continued to turn over these bones, with an air of provoking unbelief; now and then, perhaps, holding aloft, in significant silence, the fragment of a cranium, of remarkably sheepish proportions. this was not to be endured. anatomical knowledge appears not to have made uncommon strides, in that region, in ; for, when it was finally decided to compare these bones with those of the human body, there actually seems to have been nothing in that region, which would serve the purpose of the faculty, but the leg of a citizen, long before amputated, and committed to the earth. i will here adopt the words of the rev. mr. haynes--"_a mr. salisbury, about four years ago, had his leg amputated, which was buried, at the distance of four or five miles. the limb was dug up, and, by comparing, it was universally determined that the bones were not human._" this was a severe disappointment, undoubtedly; but not absolutely total: for two nails, or something, in the image thereof, were found, amid the mass, which nails, says mr. haynes, "_were human, and so appeared to all beholders_." let us now turn to the murderers, or rather to jesse, for stephen was two hundred miles away, entirely unsuspicious of the gathering cloud, which was destined, ere long, to burst upon his devoted head. when the discovery of these bones had excited the feelings and suspicions of the people, to the utmost, it was deemed proper to take jesse into custody. an examination took place, on tuesday, may , , and continued, till the following saturday. this examination was conducted, in the meeting-house, as it appears, from the testimony of truman hill, upon the subsequent trial; who says of jesse, that--"when the knife was presented to him, in the meeting-house, and also when the hat was presented to him, his feelings were such, as to oblige him to take hold of the pew, to steady himself--he appeared to be much agitated--i asked him what was the matter--he answered there was matter enough--i asked him to state--he said he feared, that stephen had killed colvin--that he never believed so, till the spring or winter, when he went into william boorn's shop, where were william and stephen boorn--at which time he gained a knowledge of the manner of colvin's death; and that he thought he knew, within a few rods, where colvin was buried." such was the evidence of truman hill, upon the trial; and he related the facts, very naturally, at the time, to his neighbors. the statement was considered, by the community, as tantamount to a confession. at this time, the examination of jesse boorn had nearly closed--no ground for detention appeared against him--the bones, discovered in the stump, were acknowledged to have belonged to some brute animal--it was the general opinion, that jesse should be released; when this declaration of his to truman hill, turned the tide of popular sentiment entirely; and jesse boorn was remanded to prison. truman hill was the jailer; or, in his own conservative phraseology, he "_kept the keys of the prison_." jailers are rather apt to look upon their prisoners, as great curiosities, in proportion to the crimes, with which they are charged, and themselves as showmen. most men are sufficiently willing to be distinguished, for something or other:--to see jesse boorn--to catechise the wretched man--to set before him the fear of death, and the hope of pardon--to beg him to confess--nothing but the truth, of course--these were privileges--favors--and truman hill had the power of granting them. thus he says--he "_let in_" mr. johnson; and, when mr. johnson came out, he went in himself, and found jesse "in great agitation"--and then he, himself, urged jesse to confess--the truth of course--if he said anything--assuring him, that every falsehood he told, would sink him deeper in trouble. it must have been evident to the mind of jesse, that a confession of the murder would be particularly agreeable to the public, and that a continued protestation of his innocence would disappoint the reasonable expectations of his fellow-citizens. jesse confessed to judge skinner, that stephen had, probably, buried colvin's body in the mountain; and that the knife, found with the button, in the hole, indicated to his uncle by the ghost, was, doubtless, colvin's; for he had often seen colvin's mother use it, to cut her tobacco. judge skinner and jesse took an edifying walk up the mountain, in search of the body--they did not find it, which is very surprising. about the middle of the month of may, , mr. orange clark, a neighbor of stephen boorn, in the town of denmark, some two hundred miles from manchester, entered his dwelling, in the evening. he took a chair, and commenced a friendly conversation with stephen and his wife--for stephen had married a wife--the sharer of all his sorrows--his joys, probably, were few, and far between, and not worth the partition. shortly after, a mr. hooper, another neighbor, dropped in. he had scarcely taken his seat, before another entered the apartment, mr. sylvester, the innkeeper, who, upon some grave testimony, then recently imported into denmark, had arrived at the solemn conclusion, that there was something rotten there. stephen and his helpmate were, doubtless, somewhat surprised, at this unusual gathering, in their humble dwelling. their surprise was greatly increased, of course, by the appearance, almost immediately after, of messieurs anderson and raymond, worthy men of manchester. if the ghost of russell colvin had stalked in, after them, stephen boorn could not have been more astonished, than he was, when he beheld, closing up the rear of all this goodly company--no less a personage, than captain truman hill, the jailer of manchester--the gentleman, i mean, who "_kept the keys of the prison_." to stephen there must have been something not wholly incomprehensible in this. his ill-starred partner was not long left in doubt. the very glances of the party were of evil omen. their business was soon declared. the gentleman, that _kept the keys_, kept also the _handcuffs_. they were speedily produced. stephen boorn must go back to the place, from whence he came--and from thence--so opined the men, women and children of manchester--to the place of execution. but, when the process commenced, of putting the irons upon that wretched man--the poor woman--the wife of his bosom--for he had a bosom, and a human heart therein, full of tenderness, as the sequel will demonstrate, for her; however inconceivable to the gentleman, that "_kept the keys_"--and to those learned judges, who, in the very teeth, and in utter contempt, of the law, so clearly laid down by sir matthew hale, of glorious memory, would have hanged this miserable man, but for the signal providence of almighty god--this poor woman was completely overwhelmed with agony. the estimate of many things, in this nether world, is a vastly relative affair. that, which would be in excellent taste, among a people, without refinement, however moral, will frequently appear to the enlightened portion of mankind, as absolutely barbarous. the idea of allaying the anguish of a wife, produced by the forcible removal of her husband, in chains, on a charge of murder, by _making her presents_, hurries one's imagination to the land of the hottentots, or of the caffres; where the loss of a child is sometimes forgotten, in the contemplation of a few glass beads--and no consolation proves so effectual for the loss of wife, as a nail or a hatchet. and yet it is impossible--and it ought to be--to read the short and simple statement of that good man, the rev. mr. haynes, without emotion--"_the surprise and distress of mrs. boorn, on this occasion, are not easily described: they excited the compassion of those, who came to take away her husband; and they made her some presents_." "the prisoner," continues mr. haynes, "was put in irons, and brought to manchester, on the th of may. he peremptorily asserted his innocence, and declared he knew nothing about the murder of his brother-in-law. the prisoners were kept apart, for a time. they were afterwards confined in one room. stephen denied the evidence, brought against him by jesse, and treated him with severity." these men, imprisoned in may, , were not tried, until october of that year. the _evidence_, upon which they were convicted of murder, in the first degree, lies now before me, _certified up to the general assembly of the state of vermont, upon their request, by judge dudley chace, nov. , _. let us now turn from _on dits_, and dreams, and ghosts, and doubtful relics, to the _duly certified testimony, upon which these men were sentenced to be hung_. no. lxxxi. the grand jurors of bennington county found a bill of indictment, against stephen and jesse boorn, september , , for the murder of russell colvin, may , , charging stephen, as principal, in the first count, and jesse, in the second. the facts, proved, upon the trial, by witnesses, whose testimony was unimpeached, and which facts appear, in the minutes of evidence, certified by judge dudley chace to the general assembly, november , , were, substantially, these. before the time of the alleged murder, stephen had complained that his brother-in-law, colvin, was a burden to the family; and stephen had said, if there was no other way of preventing him from multiplying children, for his father-in-law, barney boorn, to support, he would prevent him himself. at the time of the alleged murder, stephen and jesse boorn had a quarrel with colvin. the affair, in part, was seen and heard, by a neighbor, from a distance. lewis colvin, then ten years old, the son of russell, was present; and, when seventeen, testified at the trial, that the last time he saw his father was, when the quarrel took place, which arose, at the time they were all engaged, in picking up stones--that colvin struck stephen first, with a small stick--that stephen then struck colvin, on his neck, with a club, and he fell--that colvin rose and struck stephen again--that stephen again struck colvin with the club, and knocked him down--whereupon the witness, being frightened, ran away; and was afterwards told, by stephen, that he would kill him, if he ever told of what had happened. the witness further stated, that he ran, and told his grandmother. stephen appears to have been gifted with a lively fancy. it was testified, that, before this occurrence, speaking of his sister and her husband, he had said he wished russell and sal were both dead; and that he would _kick them into hell if he burnt his legs off_. this piece of evidence, after having produced the usual effect upon the jury, was rejected. upon another occasion, four years after the alleged murder, stephen stated to daniel d. baldwin, and eunice, his wife, that colvin went off very strangely; that the last he saw of him was when he, stephen, and jesse were together, and colvin went off to the woods; that lewis, the son of colvin, upon returning with some drink, for which he had been sent, asked where his father was, and that he, stephen, replied, that colvin had gone to hell; and jesse, that they had put him where potatoes would not freeze; and stephen added, while making this statement to the baldwins, that it was not likely he or jesse would have said this to the boy, if they had killed his father. when the body was sought for, before the bones were discovered, which were mistaken for human remains, a girl said to stephen, "they are going to dig up colvin for you; aren't they?" he became angry, and said, that colvin often went off and returned--and that, when he went off, the last time, he was crazy; and went off without his hat. about four years after his disappearance, an old mouldy hat was discovered, in the field, where the quarrel took place; and was identified, positively, as the hat of colvin, by the witness who had seen the quarrel, from a distance, as i have stated. stephen denied, to benjamin deming, that he, stephen, was present, when colvin went off, and stated, that he was then, at a distance. to joseph lincoln he said, that he never killed colvin--that he, and colvin, and jesse were picking up stones, and that colvin was crazy, and went off into the woods, and that they had not seen nor heard from him since. to william wyman, stephen reäffirmed his statement, made to benjamin deming--called on wyman to clear up his statement, that he, stephen, had killed colvin--asserted, that he knew nothing of what had become of colvin; and that he had never worked with him an hour. the minutes of the judge furnish other examples of similar contradiction and inconsistency, on the part of stephen boorn. but the reader will bear constantly in mind, that, through a period of seven years, during which the suspicion of the vicinage hung over them, like an angry cloud, sending forth occasional mutterings of judgment to come, and threatening to burst upon their heads, at any moment; _neither of these miserable men attempted flight or concealment_. two years before his arrest, stephen removed from manchester, as i have related; but, in an open manner. there was not the slightest disguise, in regard to his abode; and there, when it was thought proper to arrest him, he was readily found, in the bosom of his family. in , jesse boorn was asked, by daniel jacobs, where russell colvin was; and replied, that he had enlisted, as a soldier in the army. thus far, the evidence, certified by judge chace, appears to have proceeded from perfectly credible witnesses. silas merrill, _in jail, on a charge of perjury_, testified to the following confession--that, when jesse returned to prison, after his examination, he told merrill, that "_they_" had encouraged him to confess, _with promise of pardon_, and that he, merrill, had told him, that, perhaps, he had better confess the whole truth, and _obtain some favor_. in june, , jesse's father visited him in jail--after he went away, jesse seemed much afflicted. after falling asleep, jesse awoke, and shook the witness, merrill--told him that he, jesse, was frightened--had seen a vision--and wished the witness to get up, for he had something to tell him. they both arose; and jesse made the following disclosure. he said it was true, that he, and stephen, and colvin, and lewis were in the lot, picking stones--that stephen struck colvin with a club--that the boy, lewis, ran--that colvin got up--that stephen struck him again, above the ear, and broke his skull--that his, stephen's father came up, and asked if colvin was dead; and that he repeated this question three times--that all three of them carried colvin, not then dead, to an old cellar, where the father cut colvin's throat, with a small penknife of stephen's--that they buried him, in the cellar--that stephen wore colvin's shoes, till he, jesse, told him it would lead to a discovery. jesse, as the witness stated, informed him, that he had told his brother stephen, that he had confessed. when stephen came into the room, witness asked him, if he did not take the life of colvin; to which he replied, that "_he did not take the main life of colvin_." stephen, as the witness stated, said, that jesse's confession was true; and that he, stephen, had made a confession, which would only make manslaughter of it. the witness, merrill, then proceeded to say, that jesse further confessed, that, eighteen months after they had buried the body, they took it up, and placed it under the floor of a barn, that was afterwards burnt--that they then pounded the bones, and put them in the river; excepting a few, which their father gathered up, and hid in a hollow stump. at this stage of the trial, the prosecuting officer offered the written confession of stephen boorn, dated aug. , . the document was authenticated. an attempt was made by the prisoners' counsel, to show, that this confession was made, under the fear of death and hope and prospect of pardon. samuel c. raymond testified, that he had often told the prisoner to confess, _if guilty_, but not otherwise. stephen said he was _not guilty_. the witness then told him _not to confess_. the witness said he had heard mr. pratt, and mr. sheldon, the prosecuting officer, tell jesse, that, if he would confess, _in case he was guilty_, they would petition the legislature in his favor. the witness had made the same proposition to stephen himself, and _always told him he had no doubt of his guilt; and that the public mind was against him_. the court, of course, rejected the _written confession_ of stephen, made, obviously, under the fear of death, and the hope and prospect of pardon. william farnsworth was then produced, to prove the _oral confession_ of stephen, much to the same effect. to this the prisoners' counsel objected, very properly, as it occurred after the very statement and proposal, made to the prisoner, by mr. raymond. _the court, nevertheless, permitted the witness to proceed._ mr. farnsworth then testified, that, about two weeks _after_ the date of the written confession, stephen confessed, that he killed russell colvin--that russell struck at him; and that he struck russell and killed him--hid him in the bushes--buried him--dug him up--buried him again, under a barn, that was burnt--threw the unburnt bones into the river--scraped up some few remains, and hid them in a stump--and that the nails found he knew were russell colvin's. the witness told him his case looked badly; and, probably, gave him no encouragement. stephen then said they should have done well enough, had it not been for jesse, and wished he "_had back that paper_," meaning the written confession. after mr. farnsworth had been, thus absurdly, permitted to testify, there was no cause for withholding the written confession; and the prisoners' counsel called for its production. this confession embodies little more, with the exception of some particulars, as to the manner of burying the body; but is entirely inconsistent with the confession of jesse. it is a full confession, that he killed russell colvin, and buried his remains. but, unlike the confession of jesse, there is not the slightest implication of their father. the evidence, in behalf of the prisoners, was of very little importance, excepting in relation to the fact, that _they were persuaded, by divers individuals, that the only chance of escaping the halter was, by an ample confession of the murder_. they were told to confess _nothing but the truth_--but this was accompanied, by ominous intimations, that their case "_looked dark_"--that they were "_gone geese_"--or, by the considerate language of _squire raymond_--as he is styled in the minutes--that he "_had no doubt of their guilt_;" and if they would confess _the truth_--that is, _what the squire had no doubt of_--he would petition the legislature in their favor! what atrocious language to a prisoner, under a charge of murder! it would be quite interesting to read the instructions of judge dudley chace, while submitting the case of stephen and jesse boorn to the jury; that we might be able to comprehend the measure of his respect, for the law, touching the inadmissibility of such extra judicial confessions, and for the solemn, judicial declaration of sir matthew hale, that _no conviction ought ever to take place in trials, for murder or manslaughter, until the fact was clearly proven, or the dead body of the person, alleged to have been killed, was discovered_. in "_about an hour_," the jury returned a verdict of guilty, against stephen and jesse boorn. and, in "_about an hour_" after, the prisoners were brought into court again, and sentenced to be hung, on the twenty-eighth day of january, . judge chace is said to have been "_quite moved_," while passing sentence on stephen and jesse boorn. it would have been well, for the cause of humanity, and not amiss, for the honor of his judicial station, if he had shed tears of blood, as the reader of the sequel will readily admit. no. lxxxii. sentenced, on the last day of october, , to be hung, on the th of january following, the boorns were remanded to their prison, and put in irons. from this period, their most authentic and interesting prison history is obtained, from the written statement of the clergyman, who appears to have performed his sacred functions, in regard to these men, with singular fidelity and propriety. this clergyman, the rev. lemuel haynes, belonged to that class of human beings, commonly denominated _colored people_--a term, to which i have always sturdily objected, because drunkards, who are often a highly-colored people, may thus be confounded with temperate and respectable men of african descent. [ ]mr. haynes was, in part, of african parentage; and the author of the narrative, and occasional sermon, to which i have referred, at the commencement of these articles. there flourished, in this city, some five and thirty years ago, a number of very respectable, negro musicians, associated, as a band; and major russell, the editor of the centinel, was in the habit of distinguishing the music, by the color of the performers. he frequently remarked, in his journal, that the "_black music_" was excellent. if this phraseology be allowable, i cannot deny, that the black, or colored, narrative of mr. haynes is very interesting; and that i have seldom read a black or colored discourse, with more satisfaction; and that i have read many a white one, with infinitely less. [ ] the editor of the new york sun, _under date, jan. , _, says--"yesterday, we were waited on, by the rev. lemuel haynes, of this city, the person, who, convinced of the innocence of the condemned parties, aided in finding the man, supposed to be murdered."--the sun must have been under a total eclipse. this very worthy man, the rev. lemuel haynes, who figured, honorably for himself, in the affair of the boorns, was born july , , and died sept. , , at the age of --as the gentleman, who conducts the chariot of the sun, will discover, by turning to cooley's "sketches of the life and character of the rev. lemuel haynes, n. y. ," p. . some dark object must have passed before the editor's eye. previously to their trial, and after the arrest of stephen, the rev. mr. haynes expressly states, that jesse, having had an interview with stephen, positively denied his own former statement, that stephen had admitted he killed colvin. these are the words of mr. haynes--"during the interval, the writer frequently visited them, in his official capacity; and did not discover any symptoms of compunction; but they persisted, in declaring their innocence, with appeals to heaven. stephen, at times, appeared absorbed in passion and impatience. one day, i introduced the example of christ, under sufferings, as a pattern, worthy of imitation: he exclaimed--'i am as innocent, as jesus christ!' for which extravagant expression i reproved him: he replied--'i don't mean i am guiltless, as he was, i know i am a great sinner; but i am as innocent of killing colvin, as he was.'" the condition of the boorns, immediately after sentence, cannot be more forcibly exhibited, than in the language of this worthy clergyman--"none can express the confusion and anguish, into which the prisoners were cast, on hearing their doom. they requested, by their counsel, liberty to speak, which was granted. in sighs and broken accents, they asserted their innocence. the convulsion of nature, attending stephen, at last, was so great, as to render him unable to walk, and he was supported to the prison." compassion was excited, in the hearts of some--doubts, peradventure, in the minds of others. a petition was presented to the general assembly; and the punishment of jesse was changed to imprisonment, for life. ninety-seven deadly noes, against forty-two merciful ayes, decided the fate of stephen. on the th of october, , jesse bade stephen a last farewell; and was transferred to the state prison, at windsor. "i visited him--stephen"--says mr. haynes, "frequently, with sympathy and grief; and endeavored to turn his mind upon the things of another world; telling him, that, as all human means had failed, he must look to god, as the only way of deliverance. i advised him to read the holy scriptures; to which he consented, if he could be allowed a candle, as his cell was dark. this request was granted; and i often found him reading. he was at times calm, and again impatient." upon another occasion, still nearer the day of the prisoner's doom--"the last of earth"--mr. haynes remarks, that stephen addressed him thus--"_'mr. haynes, i see no way but i must die: everything works against me; but i am an innocent man: this you will know, after i am dead.' he burst into a flood of tears, and said--'what will become of my poor wife and children; they are in needy circumstances; and i love them better than life itself.'_--i told him, god would take care of them. he replied--'_i don't want to die. i wish they would let me live, even in this situation, somewhat longer: perhaps something will take place, that will convince people i am innocent._' i was about to leave the prison, when he said--'_will you pray with me?_'--he arose with his heavy chains on his hands and legs, being also chained down to the floor, and stood on his feet, with deep and bitter sighings." on the th day of november, --two brief months before the time, appointed, for the execution of stephen boorn, the following notice appeared in the rutland herald--"murder.--_printers of newspapers, throughout the united states, are desired to publish, that stephen boorn of manchester, in vermont, is sentenced to be executed for the murder of russell colvin, who has been absent about seven years. any person, who can give information of said colvin, may save the life of the innocent, by making immediate communication. colvin is about five feet five inches high, light complexion, light hair, blue eyes, about forty years of age. manchester, vt., nov. , ._" this notice, published by request of the prisoner, was, doubtless, prepared, by one of his counsel:--by whomsoever prepared, it bears, in its very structure, unmistakable evidence of the writer's entire confidence, in the innocency, of stephen boorn, of the _murder_ of russell colvin. no man, who had a doubt upon his mind, could have put these words together, in the very places, where they stand. had it been otherwise, some little hesitancy of expression--some conservative syllable--one little if, _ex abundanti cautela_, to shelter the writer from the charge of a most miserably weak and merciful credulity, would have characterized this last appeal--this short, shrill cry for mercy--as the work of a doubter, and a hireling. there may have been a few, whose strong confidence, in the bloodguiltiness of stephen boorn, had become slightly paralyzed, by his entire and absolute retractation of all his confessions, made before trial. there may have been a few, who believe, that they, themselves, might have confessed, though innocent, in the same predicament--assured by the _squires_, the _magnates_ of the village, whom they supposed powerful to save, that _no doubt existed of their guilt_--that they were _gone geese_--and who proffered an effort in their favor--to save them from the gallows--if they would confess _the truth_, which _truth_ could, of course, be nothing, but their _guilt_. if they would confess a crime, though innocent, they might still live! if not, they must be deemed liars, and murderers, and die the death! the prisoner, stephen boorn, even supposing him to be innocent, but of humble station in society, and of ordinary mental powers--oppressed by the chains he wore, and, more heavily, by the dread of death--clinging to life--not only because it is written, by the finger of god, in the members of man, that all a man hath will be given for his life--but because, as the statement of mr. haynes convincingly shows, poor degraded outcast as stephen was, he was deeply and tenderly attached to his wife and children--might well fall under the temptation, so censurably spread before him. there may have been a few, who were compelled to doubt, if stephen were a murderer, upon hearing the simple narrative, spread through the village, by the worthy clergyman, of the fervent and awful declaration of stephen boorn, in a moment of deep and energetic misery--"i am as innocent of the murder of russell colvin, as jesus christ." but the strong current of popular indignation ran, overwhelmingly, against him. by a large number, the brief notice, published in the rutland herald, was, undoubtedly, accounted a mere personal, or professional attempt, to produce an impression of the murderer's innocence, in the hope of commutation, or of pardon--and, with many, it certainly tended to confirm the prejudice against him. days of unutterable anguish were succeeded, by nights of frightful slumber. the cell was feebly lighted, by the taper allowed him--with unpractised fingers, the prisoner turned over the pages of god's holy word--but a kind, faithful guide was at his elbow--the voice of fervent prayer, amid the occasional clanking of the prisoner's fetters, went up to that infallible ear, that is ever ready to hear.--the judicial power had consigned this victim to the gallows--the general sense had decided, that stephen boorn ought not to live--to prepare him to die was the only remaining office, for the man of god. no. lxxxiii. in april, , about a year after poor colvin was murdered, by the boorns, according to the indictment--there came to the house of a mr. polhamus, in dover, monmouth county, new jersey, a wandering man--he was a stranger, and mr. polhamus was a good man, and took him in--he was hungry, and he fed him--he was ragged, if not absolutely naked, and he clothed him. he was a man of mean appearance, rapid utterance, and disordered understanding. he was harmless withal, perfectly tractable, capable of light service, and grateful for kindness. in the family of mr. polhamus, this poor vagrant had continued, to the very time, when the boorns were convicted of the murder of russell colvin. not far from dover, lies the town of shrewsbury, near long branch, the baiæ of the philadelphians. there dwelt in shrewsbury, in the year , mr. taber chadwick, the brother-in-law of mr. polhamus, and familiarly acquainted with the domestic affairs of his relative. he also was a man of kind and generous feelings. he had accidentally read in the new york evening post, a paper which he rarely met with, the account of the conviction of the boorns, for the murder of colvin. the notice in the rutland herald, he had never seen. he was firmly persuaded, that the stranger, who arrived at the house of his brother-in-law, some six years before, was russell colvin. what reasons he had, for this conviction, the reader will gather from a perusal of the following letter, which appeared in the evening post:-- "shrewsbury, monmouth, n. j., dec. , . to the editor of the new york evening post: sir. having read in your paper of nov. th last, of the conviction and sentence of stephen and jesse boorn, of manchester, vermont, charged with the murder of russell colvin, and from facts, which have fallen within my own knowledge, and not knowing what facts may have been disclosed on their trial, and wishing to serve the cause of humanity, i would state as follows, which may be relied on. some years past, (i think between five and ten), a stranger made his appearance in this county: and, upon being inquired of, said his name was russell colvin, (which name he answers to at this time)--that he came from manchester, vermont--he appeared to be in a state of mental derangement; but, at times, gave considerable account of himself--his connections, acquaintances, &c.--he mentions the names of clarissa, rufus, &c.--among his relations he has mentioned the boorns above--jesse as judge (i think,) &c., &c. he is a man rather small in stature--round favored--speaks very fast, and has two scars on his head, and appears to be between thirty and forty years of age. there is no doubt but that he came from vermont, from the mention that he has made of a number of places and persons there, and probably is the person supposed to have been murdered. he is now living here, but so completely insane, as not to be able to give a satisfactory account of himself, but the connections of russell colvin might know, by seeing him. if you think proper to give this a place in your columns, it may possibly lead to a discovery, that may save the lives of innocent men--if so, you will have the pleasure, as well as myself, of having served the cause of humanity. if you give this an insertion in your paper, pray be so good as to request the different editors of newspapers, in new york, and vermont, to give it a place in theirs. i am, sir, with sentiments of regard, yours, &c., taber chadwick." to render a certain part of this letter intelligible to the reader, it is proper to state, that clarissa and rufus, as it appeared from the evidence, were the names of colvin's children; and that "_the judge_" was a title, or sobriquet, frequently bestowed upon jesse, by stephen. upon the arrival of a printed copy of mr. chadwick's letter, in manchester, it produced little or no effect. very few of the inhabitants gave any credit to the story; and it might have been very reasonably supposed, that st. thomas had begotten a large majority of the population. squire raymond was certain of stephen's guilt; and to differ from squire raymond, was probably accounted, by the villagers, as one of the presumptuous sins. besides, if a doubt of their guilt had existed, would not those most learned judges have given the prisoners the full advantage of that doubt! how little the good people of manchester imagined, that, upon the trial of the boorns, the well established rules of evidence had been outrageously violated, and a great fundamental principle of criminal jurisprudence shamefully disregarded, by the court! such, however painful and disgraceful the admission, was manifestly the fact. judges, who sit thus, in judgment, upon the lives of men, would do well to doff their ermine, and assume the robe, commended by faulconbridge to austria. to the enforcement of this simple truth i shall turn hereafter. let us now go to the dungeon, taking with us, of course, the newspaper, containing these living lines--these tidings of exceeding great joy. but the details of all that occurred within the prison, are related with great simplicity and power, by the good clergyman, who stood by stephen boorn, in his deepest need. let mr. haynes, himself, describe in a few words, the effect of this communication, upon the prisoner--"mr. chadwick's letter was carried to the prison, and read to stephen. the news was so overwhelming, that, to use his own language, nature could scarcely sustain the shock; but, as there was some doubt as to the truth of the report, it tended to prevent an immediate dissolution. he observed to me, that, if colvin had then made his appearance before him, he believed it would have caused immediate death. even now a faintness was created, that was painful to endure." not a few very charitable people, who shrink, instinctively, from the very thought of giving pain, marvelled at the cruelty of those, who presumed to raise the poor prisoner's hopes, upon such frail and improbable grounds. soon, intelligence arrived in manchester, that a mr. whelpley, of new york, formerly of manchester, who knew colvin well, having seen mr. chadwick's letter, had gone to new jersey, to settle the question of identity. this, according to mr. deming's account, was done, at the instance of the city authorities of new york. doubt fell, fifty per cent., in the market of manchester, when a brief letter, in the well known handwriting of mr. whelpley, was received, in that village, immediately upon his return to new york, containing these vital words--"i have colvin with me!" this letter was immediately followed by another from a mr. rempton, who knew him well, in which he says--"_while writing, russell colvin is before me_!" the new york journals now published the notice, that _colvin had arrived, and would soon proceed to vermont_. doubt dies hard, in the bosoms of those, whose pride of opinion forbids them to recant. squire raymond, and his tail, as the scotch call a great man's followers, could not believe the story. their honors, who sentenced the boorns to death, in one hour, after the verdict had been delivered--were very naturally inclined to take a longer time, for consideration, before they sentenced themselves to merited reproach, for their rash and unjustifiable conduct. bets were made, says mr. haynes, that the man, on his way to vermont, notwithstanding the positive averments of whelpley and rempton, was not the true colvin, but an impostor. whoever he was, he was soon upon his way. he passed through albany. the streets, says mr. deming, were literally crowded to get a glimpse of the man, who was dead and alive again. he passed through troy. the trojan horse could not have produced a greater measure of amazement, in the days of priam. dec. , he arrived with mr. whelpley, at bennington. the court then in session, suspended business, to look upon him, for several hours. towards evening, upon that memorable day, dec. , , the stage was seen, driving into manchester, and the driving was like the driving of jehu, for it drove furiously. when the dust cleared away, sufficiently, to enable the excited population to obtain a clearer view, an unusual signal was observed floating above the advancing vehicle. a shout broke forth from the crowd--colvin has come! hundreds ran to their houses to communicate the tidings--_colvin has come!_ the stage drove up to the tavern door; and a little man, of mean appearance, and wild, disordered look, came forth into the middle of the eager multitude. his bewildered eyes turned, rapidly and feverishly, in all directions, encountering eyes innumerable, that seemed to drink him in, with the strong relish of wonder and delight. hundreds upon hundreds pressed forward, to grasp this poor, little, demented creature, by the hand; and enough of sense and memory remained, to enable him, feebly, to return the smiles of his former neighbors, and to call them, by their names. all was uproar and frantic joy. the people of manchester believed it to be their bounden duty to go partially mad; and they did their duty to perfection. guns were fired, amid wild demonstrations of excitement; and colvin was tumultuously borne to the cell of the condemned. the meeting shall be described by mr. haynes--"_the prison door was unbolted--the news proclaimed to stephen, that colvin had come! the welcome reception, given it by the joyful prisoner, need not be mentioned. the chains, on his arms, were taken off, while those on his legs remained. being impatient of an interview with him, who had come to bring salvation, they met. colvin gazed upon the chains, and asked--'what is that for?'--stephen answered--'because, they say, i murdered you'--'you never hurt me'--replied colvin._" colvin recognized his children; but marvelled how they came in manchester, asserting, that he left them, at the house of his kind benefactor, mr. polhamus, in new jersey. of his wife, who came to see him, he took little notice, asserting, that she did not belong to him. there may have been enough of method, in his madness, to enable him to appreciate, correctly, the value of his marital relation. the breath of manchester may have blown the truth into his ear. an ingenious person may find some little resemblance between the wanderings of ulysses and those of colvin the _oudeis_ of manchester--but the testimony, upon the trial, peremptorily forbids the slightest comparison, between penelope and mrs. colvin, who appears not to have embarrassed her suitors, with the preliminary ordeal of the bow. there is an admirable painting, in the boston athenæum, by neagle, of patrick lyon, the blacksmith, who was long imprisoned, in philadelphia, for the robbery of a bank, of which crime he was perfectly innocent, as it finally appeared, to the entire satisfaction of the government, by whom he was, consequently, discharged. lyon is represented, at his forge; and he desired the artist to introduce the walnut street prison in the rear, where he had suffered, so unjustly, and so long. the graphic hand of a master might do something here. i would pay more than i can well afford, for a couple of illustrative paintings--i. the judges, with tears in their eyes, sentencing stephen and jesse to be hanged, for the murder of colvin--the best books on evidence, before them, and open at the pages where it is expressly stated that extra-judicial confession, under fear of death, and hope of pardon, shall never be received--and the leaf turned down, at the authority of sir matthew hale, that no conviction ought ever to take place, upon trials for murder and manslaughter, till the fact be clearly proven, or the _dead body_ be discovered. ii. the dungeon, dec. , , just thirty-six days, before the time, appointed for the execution of stephen--the murderer and the murdered man, standing face to face, in full life--squire raymond still avowing his conviction of stephen's guilt, and holding aloft his written confession--judge chace seen in the distance, burying the "_certified minutes of evidence_" in the very hole, pointed out, to nathaniel boorn, by colvin's ghost--and judge doolittle evidently regretting, that he had not done less, in this unhappy transaction, which came so near the consummation of judicial murder. in the succeeding number, i shall endeavor to present a simple version of the motives and conduct of the parties--and some brief remarks, upon this extraordinary trial. no. lxxxiv. after a little reflection, the true explanation of this apparent mystery appears to be exceedingly simple. colvin had become an object of contempt and hatred to the boorns; and especially to stephen. his mental feebleness had produced their contempt--the burdensomeness of himself and his family had begotten their hatred. the poor, semi-demented creature happened, in a luckless hour, to boast, most absurdly, no doubt, of his great importance and usefulness, as a member of this interesting family. this gave a doubly keen edge to the animosity of stephen; and he berated his brother-in-law, in terms, almost as vulgar and abusive, as those we daily meet with, in so many of our leading political journals, of all denominations. forgetful of his inferiority, this miserable worm exemplified the proverb, and turned upon his oppressor, in a feeble way. he struck stephen with "_a small riding stick_." this was accounted sufficient provocation by stephen; and, in the language of the witness, "_stephen then struck russell on his neck with a club, and knocked him down_." he rose, and made a slight effort to renew the battle, and then stephen again knocked him down. upon this, colvin rambled off, towards the mountain, and was seen in that region, no more, till he was brought back, after the expiration of seven years, in december, . he went off without his hat and shoes; whether, in his effort to shake off the dust of that city, he unconsciously shook off his shoes, is unknown. the discovery of the hat, some years after, formed a part of that wretched _rope of sand_, for it is not worthy of being called a _chain of evidence_, upon which stephen and jesse were sentenced to death. colvin had, doubtless, long been aware, that he was an object of hatred to the boorns. the blows, inflicted upon this occasion, undoubtedly, aggravated his insanity; yet enough remained of the instinctive love of life, to teach him, that his safety was in flight. how he found his way to that part of new jersey, which lies near the atlantic ocean, is of little importance. he was, notoriously, a wanderer. it was the spring of the year. he moved onward, without plan, camping out, among the bushes, or sleeping in barns; the world before him, and providence his guide. he, probably, rambled from manchester, which is in the southwest corner of vermont, into the state of new york, which lies very near; and, wandering, in a southerly direction, along the westerly boundary lines of massachusetts and connecticut, he would, before many days, have entered the northerly part of new jersey. accustomed to his occasional absences, the boorns, undoubtedly, expected his return, for weeks and months, even though the summer had past, and the harvest had ended. but, after the snows of winter had come, and covered the mountains; and the spring had returned, and melted them away; and colvin came not; then stephen boorn, doubtless, began to fear, that he had, unintentionally, killed him--that he had wandered away, and died of the effects of the blows he had received--and that his bones were bleaching, in some unknown part of the mountain, whither he had wandered, immediately after the occurrence. upon this hypothesis, alone, can we explain one remarkable word, in the answer of stephen to merrill's question, in the jail, as certified, by judge chace, in his minutes--"_i asked him, if he did take the life of colvin.--he said he did not take the_ main _life of colvin. he said no more at that time._" does any reflecting man inquire--what could have induced these men to confess the crime, with such a particular detail of minute, and extraordinary, circumstances? the answer has already been given, in part.--stephen, doubtless, believed it to be quite probable, that he had been the means of colvin's death. to explain the motive for confession, more fully, it is only necessary to stand, for one moment, in the prisoner's shoes. he was assured, by "squire raymond," and others, in whom he confided, that no doubt was entertained of his guilt--that his case was dark--and that his only hope lay in confession. his mind was brought to the full and settled belief, that he should be hung, before many days, _unless he confessed_. if he had confessed the simple truth--the quarrel--the blows--the departure of colvin--all this would have availed him nothing. it was not this, of which "squire raymond," and others, had _no doubt he was guilty_. they had no doubt he was guilty of the _murder_ of colvin. no confession of anything, short of _the murder of colvin_, would satisfy "squire raymond," and induce him to "petition the legislature in favor" of the prisoner! stephen well knew, that, if he confessed the murder of colvin, it would be immediately asked--where he had buried the body--a puzzling question, it must be confessed, for one, who had committed no murder. but it was a delicate moment, for stephen. it was necessary for him to stand, not only _rectus in curia_--but _rectus_ with "squire raymond," and all his other attentive patrons. he therefore, to save his life, and secure the patronage of the "squire," strung together a terrible tissue of lies, too manifestly preposterous and improbable, even for the credulous brain of cotton mather, in . he relieved himself of all embarrassment, in regard to the dead body of the _living_ colvin, by _confessing_, that he first buried it, in the earth--then took it up and reburied it, under a barn--and, after the barn had been burnt, took up the bones again, and cast them into the battenkill river. the confession of jesse was made, when he was aroused from sleep, at midnight, under the impression, as he stated, at the time, that "_something had come in at the window, and was on the bed beside him_"--somewhat extra-judicial, this confession, to be sure. this jesse appears to have been a most unfilial scoundrel; for, instead of _confessing_, as stephen had _confessed_, that stephen himself killed colvin, single-handed and alone; jesse catered, more abundantly, to the popular appetite for horrors, by _confessing_ that his old father, barney boorn, "_damned_" his son-in-law, colvin, very frequently, and "_cut his throat with a small penknife_." all this clotted mass of inconsistent absurdity, extorted by hope and fear, his honor, judge chace, received, as legal evidence, and gravely certified up to the general assembly of vermont. it is true, judge chace, as we have stated, rejected the written confession of stephen, because raymond swore, as follows--"_i have heard mr. pratt and mr. sheldon tell jesse boorn, that if he would confess, in case he was guilty, they would petition the legislature for him--i have made the same proposition to stephen myself, and always told him i had no doubt of his guilt, and that the public mind was against him._" it is needless to expatiate on the gross impropriety of addressing such language to a prisoner, under such circumstances. but the witness, farnsworth, was then produced to prove stephen's oral confession, that he killed colvin. it appears, by the minutes, certified by judge chace, that he put the preliminary questions, and that the witness swore, "that neither he nor anybody else, _to his knowledge_, had done anything, directly or indirectly, to influence the said stephen to the _talk_ he was about to communicate." in vain, the prisoners' counsel protested, that the evidence was inadmissible, because the "_talk_" between stephen and farnsworth was subsequent to the proposition made to stephen by raymond. in vain they pressed the consideration, that if, on this ground, the written confession had been rejected, the oral confession should also be rejected. in vain they offered to prove other proposals and promises, made to the prisoners, at other times, _before_ the conversation, now offered to be proved. nothing, however, would stay their honors, from gibbetting their judicial reputation, in chains, which no time will ever knock off. they suffered farnsworth to testify; and he swore, that stephen told him, "about two weeks _after_ the written confession, that he killed colvin," &c. this must have been about september , , and, of course, before the trial, when he was still relying on the promises of squire raymond, and others. the prisoners' counsel very judiciously moved, for the reception of the written confession, and it was read accordingly. unable to restrain the judicial antics of the court, it appeared to be the only course, for the prisoners' counsel, to throw the whole crude and incongruous mass before the jury, and leave its credibility, or rather, its palpable incredibility, to their decision. it would be desirable, as a judicial curiosity, to possess a copy of judge chace's charge. of his instructions to the jury he says nothing, in his certified statement to the general assembly. now, apart from the confessions of these men, extorted, so clearly, by the fear of death, and the hope of pardon, there was evidence enough to excite _suspicion_, and there was no more: but, the law of our country convicts no man of murder, or manslaughter, upon _suspicion_. i shall conclude my remarks, upon this interesting case, in the following number. no. lxxxv. the chains of stephen boorn were stricken off, and jesse was liberated from prison. they were men of note. if there were not _giants_, there were _lions_, in those days. colvin soon became weary of standing upon that dizzy eminence, where circumstances had placed him. he had a painful recollection, no doubt, more or less distinct, of the past: and, after he had served the high purpose, for which he had been brought from new jersey, he expressed an earnest wish to return to the home of his adoption; where he had found, in the good mr. polhamus, a friend, who had considered the necessities and distresses of his body and mind; and, who had been willing, in return for his feeble services, to give him shelter and protection. the boorns had, undoubtedly, a fortunate, and, almost a miraculous, escape. so had their honors, the judges, chace and doolittle. their first meeting, after the _denouement_, must have been perfectly tragi-comical. their escape from an awful precipice may admonish all, who sit, in judgment, upon the lives of their fellow-men, to administer the law, with extreme caution, and with a high and holy regard, for those well-established principles, and rules, which can never be disregarded, with impunity. god forbid, that any humble phraseology of mine should, for an instant, be perverted, to mislead the meanest understanding--to foster those principles, which, for the purpose of extending mercy, undeserved, to the murderer, would heap gross injustice and cruelty, upon the whole community--to break down the positive law of god, which jesus christ declared, that he came to confirm; and, in its place and stead, to erect the sickly decrees of a society of philandering puppets, whose wires are notoriously pulled, by certain professional and political managers. in the commencement of my remarks, upon this romance of real life, i endeavored to forefend, against the suspicion of undervaluing that species of evidence, which is called presumptive, or circumstantial. it is accounted, by the most able writers, on this branch of jurisprudence, of the highest quality. thus, in his admirable work, on evidence, vol. i. sec. , professor greenleaf remarks, that, in both civil and criminal cases, "_a verdict may well be founded on circumstances alone; and these often lead to a conclusion, far more satisfactory than direct evidence can produce_." the errors, committed by the judges, upon the trial of the boorns--and those errors were egregious--were twofold--the admission of extra-judicial confessions, manifestly extorted by hope and fear--and suffering a conviction to take place, before the dead body of the person, alleged to have been murdered, had been discovered. the rule, on the subject of confessions, is sufficiently plain. "_deliberate confessions of guilt_," says mr. greenleaf, ibid. sec. , "are among the most effectual proofs in the law." but they should be received and weighed with caution; for, as he remarks, sec. --"it should be recollected, that the mind of the prisoner himself, is oppressed by the calamity of his situation, and that he is often influenced by motives of hope or fear, to make an untrue confession." mr. greenleaf then proceeds to say, in a note on this passage--"of this character was the remarkable case of the two boorns," &c., and proceeds to give a summary of the case. "in the united states," says mr. greenleaf, ibid. sec. , "the prisoner's confession, when the _corpus delicti_ is not otherwise proved, has been held insufficient, for his conviction; and this opinion, certainly, best accords with the humanity of the criminal code, and with the great degree of caution, applied in receiving and weighing the evidence of confessions, in other cases; and it seems countenanced by approved writers, on this branch of the law." again, ibid. sec. , he remarks--"before any confession can be received, in evidence, in a criminal case, it must be shown, that it was _voluntary_. * * * * 'a free and voluntary confession,' said eyre, c. b., 'is deserving of the highest credit, because it is presumed to flow from the strongest sense of guilt, and therefore it is admitted as proof of the crime, to which it refers; but a confession forced from the mind, by the flattery of hope, or by the torture of fear, comes in so questionable a shape, when it is to be considered as the evidence of guilt, that no credit ought to be given to it; and therefore it is rejected.'" unfortunately, judges chace and doolittle thought otherwise; and brought themselves and the condemned, upon the very threshold of a terrible catastrophe. mr. greenleaf, in the note, above referred to, alludes to an article, in the north american review, vol. , p. , in which this case of the boorns is examined. it was from the pen of a gentleman, whose high professional prospects were blasted, by an early death. this writer had seen nothing, however, but "_a very imperfect report of the trial_." his article was published, in april, , about four months after the discovery of colvin. the conclusions, at which he arrives, that the confessions ought not to have been admitted, would have gained additional strength, had he inspected the _certified minutes_, taken on the trial, by the chief justice. had he seen those certified minutes of the evidence, he would scarcely have described the utter inconsistency of the two confessions, by the inadequate phrase--"_there are differences between them_:" for stephen's claims the whole act of killing to himself--while jesse's charges the father, who was notoriously not present, with cutting colvin's throat, while he was yet living, and after stephen had given him a blow. this writer relies strongly, upon the humane caution of sir matthew hale, to which i have alluded, that no conviction in case of murder or manslaughter should ever take place, till the fact were proved--or the dead body had been discovered. a perfect horror of induction seems to have settled down, like a dense cloud, upon the southwestern corner of vermont. judges and jurymen appear to have been stupefied, by its power. the important _consequence_, vital to the whole, they assumed to be true, without trial or experiment. i have looked, attentively, into every document, that i could lay my hands upon, connected with this subject; and i cannot discover, that any effort whatever was made, by any one, _till after the trial_, to discover the _living_ body of colvin. the interesting ramble of jesse and judge skinner, upon the mountain, was in search of colvin's _dead_ body! but, upon the publication of the notice, in the rutland herald, nov. , , stating the facts, and calling for information, in regard to colvin, and a similar notice, of the same date, in the new york evening post--in ten days, that is, dec. , the most ample and satisfactory information was published, by mr. taber chadwick, in regard to the _living_ body of russell colvin! the great caution of sir matthew hale was meant, not less for the prisoner, than for the whole community; no one of whom can be sure, through a long life, of escaping from the oppressive influence of circumstances, accidentally, or purposely, combined against him. his _discreet_ humanity spread no mantle of imitation charity or morbid philanthropy over the guilty. he was a bold practitioner--too bold, by far, occasionally, as in the case of cullender and duny. but this great, good man, well knew, that prisoners, charged with murder, were entitled to all the benefit of _reasonable_ doubt. he well knew, that no judicial caution could go farther, to save, than the fierce suspicion of an excited community would go, to destroy. he well knew, that, with not a small number, the very enormity of the crime seems to supply the want of legal evidence; and, that, in many cases, to be suspected is to be condemned. we have all heard of the jury, who, having convicted a prisoner of murder, in direct opposition to the judge's instructions, and being questioned and reproved--replied, that an enormous crime had been committed, and ought to be atoned for; and they saw no good reason, why the prisoner, the only person _suspected_, should not be selected, as the victim! sir matthew hale's forbearance extended to cases of reprieve, after conviction, before another judge. thus in h. p. c., vol. ii. ch. lvi., he says--"i have generally observed this rule, that i would never give judgment, or award execution, upon a person, reprieved by any other judge but myself, because i could not know, upon what ground or reason he reprieved him." upon this, there is the following pertinent note--"the usefulness of this caution may be seen, from what is observed, by sir john hawles, in his remarks on cornish's trial, where he relates the case of some persons, who had been convicted of the murder of a person absent, barely by inferences from foolish words and actions; but the judge, before whom it was tried, was so unsatisfied in the matter, because the body of the person, supposed to be murdered, was not to be found, that he reprieved the persons condemned; yet, in a circuit afterwards, a certain unwary judge, without inquiring into the reasons of the reprieve, ordered execution, and the persons to be hanged in chains, which was done accordingly; and afterwards, to his reproach, the person, supposed to be murdered, appeared alive." the death of the person, alleged to have been murdered, is, manifestly, not less a constituent part of the crime, than the malice prepense, or the employment of the means. these three things are necessary to constitute murder, in the eye of the law. thus, an acquittal has taken place, where the _murder_ was alleged to have been committed, _on the high seas_; and the _malice_ and the _blow_ only were proved to have occurred _on the high seas_--and the _death_, in the harbor of cape françois. such was the case of the u. s. against mcgill, reported in dallas. this extreme particularity appears, to some persons, exceedingly ridiculous; but not quite as much so, as certain commentaries, upon legal proceedings which we sometimes meet with, in the ordinary journals of the day. aaron burr, whom i desire not to quote, too frequently, once shrewdly remarked--"_he, who despises forms, knows not what he despises_." to infer the death, from the malice, and the employment of the means, in all cases, would be absurd. if one man maliciously knocks another into the sea, here is, certainly, a violent assault and battery--perhaps an assault with intent to kill. but, before we join, in the popular _hutesium et clamor_, we have two important points to settle, beyond all _reasonable_ doubt--first, if the person, knocked overboard, be dead, for he may have swum to land, or have been picked up, at sea, alive, in which case, unless he die of the blow, within the time prescribed, there can be neither murder nor manslaughter. and, secondly, if he be proved to have died of the injury within that time, we must duly weigh the previous circumstances and the provocation, to ascertain, if the act done be manslaughter or murder. those, who vociferate, most loudly, against the law, for its hesitancy, and demand the immediate descent of the executioner's axe, upon the neck of the victim, will be the very first fervently to supplicate, for the law's most merciful carefulness of life, should a father, a brother, or a son be charged with crime, and involved in the complicated meshes of presumptive evidence. no. lxxxvi. the transition state, when the confidence of youth begins to give place to that wholesome distrust, which is the usual--by no means, the invariable--accompaniment of riper years, is often a state of disquietude and pain. it is no light matter to look upon the visions of our own superiority, and imaginary importance, as they break, like bubbles, one after another, and leave us abundantly convinced, that we are of yesterday, and know nothing. the confidence of ignorance, however venial in youth, is not altogether so excusable, in full grown men. its exhibitions, however ridiculous and absurd, are daily manifested, by mankind, in relation to those arts and sciences, which have little or nothing in common with their own respective vocations. the physician, the lawyer, the clergyman, the deeper they descend into their respective, professional wells, where truth is proverbially said to abide, proceed with increasing caution. yet it is quite amazing, to witness the boldness, with which they dive into the very depths, that lie entirely beyond their professional precincts. the physician, who proceeds, in the cure of bodies, with the extremest caution, seems to be quite at home, in the cure of souls; and has very little doubt or difficulty, upon points, which have perplexed the brains of hale and mansfield. the lawyer, who, in his own department, moves warily; weighs evidence with infinite care; and consults authorities, with great deliberation--looks upon physic and theology, as rather speculative matters, and of easy acquirement. the clergyman frequently practises physic gratuitously; and holding the doctrine in perfect contempt, that the _viginti studia annorum_ are necessary to make a tolerable lawyer, he rather opines, that, as _majus implicat minus_, so his knowledge of the divine law necessarily comprehends a perfect knowledge of mere human jurisprudence. this confidence of ignorance is nowhere more perfectly, or more briefly, expressed, than in four oft-repeated lines, in pope's essay on criticism: "a _little_ learning is a dangerous thing; drink deep, or taste not the pierian spring: these shallow draughts intoxicate the brain, and drinking largely sobers us again." the editors of public journals are, in many instances, men of education and highly respectable abilities--men of taste and learning--men of integrity, and refinement, cherishing a just regard for the rights of individuals, and of the community. there is a very different class of men, who, however incompetent to improve the minds or the manners of the public, have a small smattering of knowledge; hold a reckless, rapid pen; and, by the aid of the scavengers, whom they employ, to rake the gutters for slander and obscenity, cater, daily, to the foulest appetites of mankind. there are some, who descend not thus, to the very nadir of all filth and corruption, but whose columns, nevertheless, are ever open, like the mouths of so many _cloacæ_, for the filthy contributions of every dirty depositor; and who are ever on hand, like the scotch cloak-man, in _auld reekie_, to serve the occasions of a customer. the very phraseology of the craft has a tendency to the amplification of an editor; and to give confirmation to the confidence of ignorance. the broken merchant, the ambitious weaver, the briefless lawyer, the literary tailor are speedily sunk, in "_we_," and "_our sheet_," and "_our columns_," and "_our-self_." this confidence of ignorance has rarely been manifested, more extensively, upon any occasion, than in connection with the indictment, trial, and condemnation of dr. webster, for the murder of dr. george parkman. the indictment was no sooner published, than three _religious_ journals began to criticise this _legal_ instrument, which had been carefully, and, as the decision of the learned chief justice and of the court has decided, sufficiently, prepared, by the attorney general of the commonwealth. this indictment contained several counts, a thing by no means unusual, the object of which is well understood, by professional men. "if the crime was committed with a knife, or with the fists, how could it be committed with a hammer?" it would not be an easy task to convince these worthy ministers of the gospel, how exceedingly ridiculous such commentaries appear, to men of any legal knowledge. judge, jurymen, and counsellors are severely censured, for the parts they have borne, in the trial and condemnation of dr. webster. by whom? by the editors of certain far-away journals, upon the evidence, _as it has reached them_. the evidence has been very variously reported. a portion of the evidence, however deeply graven upon the hearts, and minds, and memories of the highly respectable jury, and of the court, and of the multitude, present at the trial, is, from its peculiar nature, not transferable. i refer to the appearance, the air, the manner, the voice of the prisoner, especially, when, in opposition to the advice of his counsel, he fatally opened his mouth, and said precisely nothing, that betokened innocence. i do not believe there was ever, in the united states, a more impartial trial, more quietly conducted, than this trial of dr. webster. party feeling has had no lot, nor share, in this matter. the whole dealing has been calmly and confidingly surrendered to the laws of the land. with scarcely an exception, from the moment of arrest to the hour of trial, the public journals, in this vicinity, have borne themselves, with great forbearance to the prisoner. the family connexions of dr. parkman have held themselves scrupulously aloof, unless summoned to bear witness to facts, within their knowledge. it has been asserted, in one or more journals, that even the body of dr. parkman has not been discovered. the reply is short, and germain--the coroner's jury, twenty-four grand jurors, and twelve jurors in the supreme judicial court have decided, that the mutilated remains were those of the late george parkman; and that john white webster was his murderer; and the court has gravely pronounced the opinion, that the verdict is a righteous verdict, and in accordance with the law and the evidence. this opinion appears to meet with a very general, affirmative response, in this quarter. the jury--and the members of that panel, one and all, after twelve days' concentration of thought, upon this solemn question of life and death, appear to have been conscientious men--the jury have not recommended the prisoner, as a person entitled to mercy. in view of all this, the editor of a distant, public journal may be supposed to entertain a pretty good opinion of his qualifications, who ventures to pronounce his ex-cathedral decree, either that dr. webster is innocent, or, if guilty, that, on technical grounds, he has been illegally convicted. there is something absolutely melancholy in the contemplation of such presumption as this. but, under all the circumstances of this heart-sickening occurrence, it is impossible to behold, without a smile, the extraordinary efforts of some exceedingly benevolent people, in the city of new york, who are circulating a petition to the governor of massachusetts, not merely for a commutation of punishment, but for a pardon. this, to speak of it forbearingly, may be safely catalogued among the works of supererogation. if the governor of massachusetts needs any guidance from man, upon the present occasion, his council is at hand. the highest judicial tribunal of the commonwealth, entirely approving the verdict of an impartial and intelligent jury, has sentenced dr. webster to be hung, for a murder, as foul and atrocious, as was ever perpetrated, within the borders of new england. talents, education, rank aggravate the criminality of the guilty party. "to kill a man, upon sudden and violent resentment, is less penal than upon cool deliberate malice." if there be any substantial reasons, for pardon or commutation of punishment--any new matter, which has not been exhibited, before the court and jury--those reasons will be duly weighed--that matter will be gravely considered, by the governor and council. but, if the objections to the execution of the sentence, upon the present occasion, rest upon any imaginary misdirection, on the part of the court, or any misunderstanding, on the part of the jury, those objections must be unavailing. after a careful comparison of the evidence, in the case of dr. webster, with the evidence, in the case of jason fairbanks, who was executed, for the murder of betsy fales, the _concatena_--the chain of circumstances--seems even less perfect in the latter case. yet, after sentence, in that memorable trial, chief justice dana, who sat in judgment, upon that occasion, was reported to have said, that he believed fairbanks to be the murderer, more firmly, upon the evidence before the court, than he should have believed the very same thing, upon the evidence of his own eyesight, in a cloudy day--the first could not have deceived him--the latter might. if an application, for pardon or commutation, be grounded, on the objection to all capital punishment, that objection has been too recently disposed of, in the case of washington goode. the majesty of the law, the peace of society, the decree of almighty god call for impartial justice--whoso sheddeth man's blood by man shall his blood be shed! with the eye of mercy turned upon all--aye upon all--who have any relation to the murderer, the better course is christian submission to the decrees of god and man. what may be the value of a few more years of misery and contempt! god's high decree, that the murderer shall die, is merciful and just. his judgment upon cain was far more severe--not that he should die--but _that he should live_!--that he should walk the earth, and wear the brand of terrible distinction forever--"_and now thou art cursed from the earth, which hath opened her mouth to receive thy brother's blood from thy hand. when thou tillest the ground, it shall not henceforth yield unto thee her strength; a fugitive and a vagabond shalt thou be upon the earth. and cain said unto the lord, my punishment is greater than i can bear. behold thou hast driven me out, this day, from the face of the earth; and from thy face shall i be hid; and i shall be a fugitive and a vagabond in the earth; and it shall come to pass, that every one that findeth me shall slay me. and the lord said unto him, therefore whosoever slayeth cain, vengeance shall be taken on him seven fold. and the lord set a mark upon cain, lest any one finding him should slay him._" no. lxxxvii. it may be said of a proud, poor man--especially, if he be a fearless, godless man, as dirk hatteraick said of himself, to glossin--that he is "_dangerous_." it is quite probable, there are men, even in our own limited community, of an hundred and thirty thousand souls, who would rather die an easy death, than signify abroad their inability to maintain, any longer, their expensive relations to the fashionable world. what will not such a man occasionally do, rather than submit gracefully, under such a trial, to the will of god? he will beg, and he will borrow--he will lie, and he will steal. is there a crime, in the decalogue, or out of it, which he will not, occasionally, perpetrate, if its consummation be likely to save him from a confession of his poverty, and from ceasing to fill his accustomed niche, in the _beau monde_? not one--_no, not one_! well may we, who profess to be republicans, adopt the wisdom and the words of montesquieu--"_the less luxury there is in a republic, the more it is perfect. * * * * republics end with luxury._" a significant illustration of these remarks will readily occur, to every reader of american history, in the conduct and character of benedict arnold. among the dead, who, with their own hands, have prepared themselves graves of infamy, there are men of elevated rank, who have made shipwreck of the fairest hopes, in a similar manner. but, far in advance of them all, arnold is entitled to a terrible preëminence. the last turn of the screw crushes the victim--it is the last feather, say the bedouins, that breaks the camel's back--and the train, which has been in gradual preparation for many years, may be exploded, in an instant, by a very little spark, at last. there are periods, in the lives of certain individuals, when, upon the approach of minor troubles--baleful stars, doubtless, but of the third or fourth magnitude--it may be said, as rochefoucault said of the calamities of our friends, that there is something in them, not particularly disagreeable to us. a man, whose afflictions, especially when self-induced, are chafing, at every turn, against his already lacerated pride, and who is seeking some apology, for deeds of desperation, often discovers, with a morbid satisfaction, in some petty offence, or imaginary wrong, ample excuse, for deeds, absolutely damnable. such were the influences, at work, in the case of benedict arnold. in , in obedience to the sentence of a court martial, he was reprimanded by the commander-in-chief; but in terms so highly complimentary, that it is impossible to read them, without a doubt, whether this official reprimand were a crown of thorns, or a crown of glory. at that very time, arnold's pecuniary embarrassments were overwhelming. without the rightful means of supporting a one-horse chaise, he rattled up and down, in the city of philadelphia, in a chariot and four. the splendid mansion, which he occupied, had, in former times, been the residence of the penns. here he gave a sumptuous repast to the french ambassador, and entertained the minister and his suite, for several days. hunger, it is said, will break through stone walls; even this is a feeble illustration of that force and energy, which characterized arnold's _passion_ for parade. to support his career of unparalleled extravagance and folly, he resorted to stratagems, which would have been contemptible, in a broker of the lowest grade--petty traffic and huckstering speculation--the sale of permits, to do certain things, absolutely forbidden--such were among the last, miserable shifts of this "brave, wicked" man, when his conscience came between the antagonist muscles of poverty and pride. for some of these very offences, he had been condemned, by the court martial. even then, he had secretly become, at heart, a scoundrel and a renegade; and, covertly, under a feigned name, had already tendered his services to the enemy. the sentence of the court, sheer justice, but so graciously mingled with mercy, as scarcely to wear the aspect of punishment, supplied him with the very thing he coveted--a pretence, for complaining of injustice and oppression. he sought the french ambassador; and, after a plain allusion to his own needy condition, shadowed forth, in language, not to be mistaken, his willingness to become the secret servant of france. the prompt reply of the french minister is of record, most honorable for himself, and sufficiently humiliating to the spirit of the applicant. the result is before the world--arnold became a traitor, detested by those, whose cause he had forsaken, and utterly despised by those, whose cause he affected to espouse--trusted by them, only, because they well knew he might safely be employed against an enemy, who would deal with him, if captured, not as a prisoner of war, but as a traitor. i have, thus briefly, alluded to the career of arnold, only for the purpose of illustration. no truth is more simple--none more firmly established by experience--none more universally disregarded--than, that the growth of luxury must work the overthrow of a republic. as the largest masses are made up of the smallest particles, so the characteristic luxury of a whole people consists of individual extravagance and folly. the ambition to be foremost becomes, ere long, the ruling, and almost universal, passion--in still stronger language, "_it is all the rage_." in a certain condition of society, talent takes precedence of virtue, and men would rather be called knaves than fools: and, where luxury abounds, as the poorer and the middling classes will imitate the wealthier, there must be a large amount of indebtedness, and many men and women of desperate fortunes. we cannot strut about, in unpaid-for garments, nor ride about, in unpaid-for chariots, nor gather the world together, to admire unpaid-for furniture, without an inward sense of personal degradation. it would be a poor compliment to our race, to deny the truth of this assertion. true or false, the argument goes steadily forward--for, if not true, then that callous, case-hardened condition of the heart exists, which takes off all care for the common weal, and turns it entirely upon one's self, and one's own aggrandizement. nothing can be more destructive of that feeling of independence, which ever lies, at the bottom of republican virtue. this condition of things is the very hot-bed of hypocrisy,--and it makes the heart a forcing-house, for all the evil and bitter passions, envy, hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness. pastors, of all denominations, may well unite, in the chorus of the churchman's prayer, and cry aloud--_good lord deliver us!_ a very fallacious and mischievous estimate of personal array, equipage, and furniture has always given wonderful preëminence to this species of emulation. it is perfectly natural withal. distinction, of some sort, is uppermost, in most men's minds. it is comforting to many to know there is a _tapis_--"_the field of the cloth of gold_"--on which the wealthy fool is more than a match, for the poor, wise man; and, as this world contains such an overwhelming majority of the former class, the ayes have it, and luxury holds on, _vires acquirens eundo_. none but an idiot will cavil, because a rich man adorns his mansion, with elegance and taste, and receives his friends in a style of liberal hospitality. even if he go beyond the bounds of republican simplicity, and waste his substance, it matters not, beyond the circle of his creditors and heirs; if the example be not followed by thousands, who are unable, or unwilling, to be edified, by Ã�sop's pleasant fable of the ox and the frog. but it never can be thus. the machinery is exceedingly simple, in these manufactories, from which men of broken fortunes are annually turned out upon the world. when once involved in the whirl of fashion, extrication is difficult and painful--the descent is wonderfully easy--_sed revocare gradum_! the maniac hugs not his fetters, more forcibly, than the devotee of fashion clings, with the assistance, occasionally, of his better half, to his _position in society_. these remarks are, by no means, exclusively applicable to those, who move in the higher circles. this is a world of gradation, and there are few so humble, as to be entirely without their imitators. what shall we do to be saved? this anxious inquiry is not always offered, i apprehend, in relation to the concerns of a better world. how often, and how oppressively, the spirit of this interrogatory has agitated the bosom of the impoverished man of fashion! what shall i do to be saved, from the terrible disgrace of being exposed, in the court of fashion, as being guilty of the awful crime of _poverty_, and disfranchised, as one of the _beau monde_? and what will he not do, to work out this species of salvation, with fear and trembling? we have seen how readily, under the influence of pride and poverty, treason may be committed by men of lofty standing. it would be superfluous, therefore, to inquire, if there be any crime, which men, heavily oppressed by their embarrassments, and restrained thereby, from drinking more deeply of that luxury, with which they are already drunk, will hesitate to commit. no. lxxxviii. there is a popular notion, that sumptuary laws are applicable to monarchies--not to republics. the very reverse is the truth. montesquieu says, spirit of laws, book vii. ch. , that "_luxury is extremely proper for monarchies, and that, under this government, there should be no sumptuary laws_." sumptuary laws are looked upon, at present, as the relics of an age gone by. these laws, in a strict sense, are designed to restrain pecuniary extravagance. it has often been attempted to stigmatize the wholesome, prohibitory laws of the several states, in regard to the sale of intoxicating liquor, by calling them _sumptuary laws_. the distinction is clear--sumptuary laws strike at the root of extravagance--the prohibitory, license laws, as they are called, strike, not only at the root of extravagance, but at the root of every crime, in the decalogue. the _leges sumptuariæ_ of rome were numerous. the locrian law limited the number of guests, and the fannian law the expense, at festivals. the didian law extended the operation of all these laws over italy. the laws of the edwards iii., and iv., and of henry viii., against shoes with long points, short doublets, and long coats, were not repealed, till the first year of james i. camden says, that, "in the time of henry iv., it was proclaimed, that no man should wear shoes, above six inches broad, at the toes." he also states, "that their other garments were so short, that it was enacted, edward iv., that no person, under the condition of a lord, should wear any mantle or gown, unless of such length, that, standing upright, it might cover his buttocks." diodorus siculus, lib. xii. cap. , gives an amusing account of the sumptuary laws of zeleucus, king of the locrians. his design appears to have been to accomplish his object, by casting ridicule upon those practices, against which his laws were intended to operate. he decreed, that no free woman should have more than one maid to follow her, unless she was drunk; nor should she stir out of the city by night, nor wear jewels of gold, or an embroidered gown, unless she was a professed strumpet. no men, but ruffians, were allowed to wear gold rings, nor to be seen, in one of those effeminate vests of the manufacture of miletum. the very best code of sumptuary laws is that, which may be found in the common sense of an enlightened community. nothing, that i have ever met with, upon this subject, appears more just, than the sentiments of michael de montaigne, vol. i. ch. --"the true way would be to beget in men a contempt of silks and gold, as vain and useless; whereas we add honor and value to them, which sure is a very improper way to create disgust. for to enact, that none but princes shall eat turbot, nor wear velvet or gold lace, and interdict these things to the people, what is it, but to bring them into greater esteem, and to set every one more agog to eat and wear them?" no truth has been more amply demonstrated, than that a republic has more to fear from internal than from external causes--less from foreign foes, than from enemies of its own household. to the ears of those, who have not reflected upon the subject, it may sound like the croaking note of some ill boding _ab ilice cornix_--but i look upon extravagant parade, and princely furniture of foreign manufacture, the introduction of courtly customs, transatlantic servants in livery, _et id genus omne nugarum_, as so many premonitory symptoms of national evil--as part and parcel of that luxury, which may justly be called the gangrene of a republic. but does any one seriously fear, that an extravagant fandango, now and then, will lead to revolution, or produce a change in our political institutions? probably not. but it will provoke a spirit of rivalry--of emulation, not unmingled with bitterness, and which will cost many an aspirant a great deal more, than he can afford. it will lead the community to turn their dwellings into baby houses, and to gather vast assemblies together, not for the rational purposes of social intercourse, but for the purpose of exhibiting their costly toys and imported baubles. it will tend to harden the heart; and render us more and more insensible to the cries of the poor; for whose keen occasions we cannot afford one dollar, having, just then, perhaps, invested a thousand, in some glittering absurdity. it will, ultimately, produce numerous examples of poverty, and fill the community with desperate men. the line of distinction, between the liberality of a patrician and the flashy, offensive ostentation of a parvenu, at rome, or at athens, was as readily perceived, as the difference between the manners of a gentleman, and those of a clown. every rank of society, like the troubled sea, casts forth upon the strand, from year to year, its full proportion of wrecked adventurers--men, who have gone beyond their depth; lived beyond their means; and who cherish no care, _ne quid detrimenti respublica caperet_; but, on the contrary, who are quite ready for oligarchy, or monarchy; and some of whom would prefer even anarchy, to their present condition of obscurity and poverty. law and order are of the first importance to every proprietor; for, on their preservation, the security of his property depends; but they are of no importance to those, who are thus, virtually, denationalized, through impoverishment, produced by a career of luxury. such, if not already the component elements of empire clubs, are always useless, and often dangerous men. it was a well known saying of jefferson's, that _great cities_ were _great sores_. "in proportion," says montesquieu, "to the populousness of towns, the inhabitants are filled with notions of vanity, and actuated by an ambition of distinguishing themselves, by trifles. if they are very numerous, and most of them strangers to one another, their vanity redoubles, because there are greater hopes of success." according to the apothegm of franklin, it is the eyes of others, and not our own, that destroy us. "every body agrees," says mandeville in his fable of the bees, i. , "that, as to apparel and manner of living, we ought to behave ourselves suitable to our conditions, and follow the example of the most sensible and prudent, among our equals in rank and fortune; yet how few, that are not either universally covetous, or else proud of singularity, have this discretion to boast of? we all look above ourselves, and, as fast as we can, strive to imitate those that, some way or other, are superior to us." "the poorest laborer's wife in the parish, who scorns to wear a strong wholesome frize, will half starve herself and her husband, to purchase a second-hand gown and petticoat, that cannot do her half the service, because, forsooth, it is more genteel. the weaver, the shoemaker, the tailor, the barber, has the impudence, with the first money he gets, to dress himself like a tradesman of substance; the ordinary retailer, in the clothing of his wife, takes pattern from his neighbor, that deals in the same commodity by wholesale, and the reason he gives for it is, that, twelve years ago, the other had not a bigger shop than himself. the druggist, mercer, and draper, can find no difference, between themselves and merchants, and therefore dress and live like them. the merchant's lady, who cannot bear the assurance of those mechanics, flies for refuge to the other end of the town, and scorns to follow any fashion, but what she takes from thence. this haughtiness alarms the court--the women of quality are frightened to see merchants' wives and daughters dressed like themselves. this impudence of the city, they cry, is intolerable; mantua-makers are sent for; and the contrivance of fashions becomes all their study, that they may have always new modes ready to take up, as soon as those saucy cits shall begin to imitate those in being. the same emulation is contrived through the several degrees of quality, to an incredible expense; till, at last, the prince's great favorites, and those of the first rank, having nothing else left, to outstrip some of their inferiors, are forced to lay out vast estates in pompous equipages, magnificent furniture, sumptuous gardens, and princely palaces." like an accommodating almanac, the description of mandeville is applicable to other meridians, than that, for which it was especially designed. the history of all, that passes in the bosom of a proud man, unrestrained by fixed religious and moral principles, during his transition from affluence to poverty, must be a very edifying history. with such an individual the fear of god is but a pack-thread, against the unrelaxing, antagonist muscle of pride. the only _hades_, of which he has any dread, is that abyss of obscurity and poverty, in which a man is condemned to abide, who falls from his high estate, among the upper ten thousand. what plans, what projects, what infernal stratagems occasionally bubble up, in the overheated crucible! magnanimity, and honor, and humanity, and justice are unseen--unfelt. the dust of self-interest has blinded his eyes--the pride of life has hardened his heart. if the energies of such men are not mischievously employed, they are, at best, utterly lost to the community. no. lxxxix. i noticed, in a late, english paper, a very civil apology from sheriff calcraft, for not hanging sarah thomas, at bristol, as punctually as he ought, on account of a similar engagement, with another lady, at norwich. the hanging business seems to be _looking up_ with us, as the traders say of their cotton and molasses; though, in england, it has fallen off prodigiously. according to stowe, seventy-two thousand persons were executed there, in one reign, that of henry viii. that, however, was a long reign, of thirty-eight years. between and , there were executed, in england alone, seven hundred and ninety-seven convicts. but we must remember, for what trifles men were formerly executed _there_, which _here_ were at no time, capital offences. according to authentic records, the decrease of executions in london, since , is very remarkable. haydn, in his dictionary of universal reference, p. , gives the ratio of nine years, as follows-- , -- , -- , -- , none-- , none-- , -- , none-- , -- , . there is a solution for this riddle--a key to this _lock_, which many readers may find it rather difficult to pick, without assistance. before the first year, named by haydn, , sir samuel romilly, who fell, by his own hand, in a fit of temporary derangement, in , occasioned by the death of his wife, had published--not long before--his admirable pamphlet, urging a revision of the criminal code, and a limitation of capital punishment. in consequence of his exertions, and of those of sir james mackintosh afterwards, and more recently of sir robert peel and others, a great change had taken place, _in the mode of punishment_. _crime had not diminished_, in london--it was _differently dealt with_. i advise the reader, who desires light, upon this highly important and interesting subject, to read, with care, the entire article, from which i transcribe the following short passage-- "_the enormous number of our transported convicts--five thousand annually, for many years past--accompanied, at the same time, with a large increase of crime in general, would seem, prima facie, to be no very conclusive argument, in favor of the efficiency of the present system._" ed. rev., v. , p. , . "what shall be done with our criminals?" such is the caption of the able article, to which i refer. lord grey, and the most eminent statesmen of great britain have been terribly perplexed, by this awful interrogatory.--well: _we_ are a very great people.--dr. omnibus, squire farrago, and mrs. negoose have no difficulty upon this point; and there is some thought in our society, of sending out mrs. negoose, in the next steamer, to have a conference with lord brougham. lord grey's plan was, after a short penitentiary confinement, to distribute the malefactors, among their own colonies, and among such other nations, as might be willing to receive them. sending them to canada, therefore, would be sending them, pretty directly, to the states. dr. omnibus is greatly surprised, that lord grey has never thought of building prisons of sufficient capacity to hold them all, since there are no more than five thousand transported, per annum, in addition to those, who have become tenants of prisons, for crimes, which are yet capital, in england, and for crimes, whose penalty is less than transportation. it seems to be the opinion of the writer in the edinburgh review, whom i last quoted, that, under the anti-capital punishment system, there has been "_a large increase of crime in general_." this he states _as a fact_. facts are stubborn things--so are mrs. negoose--dr. omnibus--and squire farrago. they contend, that our habits of life and education, and the great difference of our political institutions entirely nullify the british example. they show, with great appearance of truth, that the perpetrators of murder, rape, and other crimes, in our own country, are more religiously brought up, than the perpetrators of similar crimes, in great britain. the statistics, on this point, are curious and interesting. they present an imposing array of educated laymen, physicians, lawyers, bishops, priests, deacons, ruling elders, professors, and candidates, in the united states, who have been tried, for various crimes, by civil or ecclesiastical courts; deposed, or acquitted, on purely technical grounds; or sentenced to imprisonment, for a shorter or longer term, or to the gallows, and duly executed. now we contend, that the ignorant felon, and such he is apt to be, in all countries, where there is but little diffusion of knowledge, and especially of religious knowledge, when again let loose upon the community, whether by a full pardon, or by serving out his term, returns, commonly, to his evil courses, as surely as the dog to his vomit, or the sow to her wallowing in the mire. but we find, that men of talent and education, and particularly men, who have figured, as preachers, and professors of religion, who commit any crime, in the decalogue, or out of it, become objects of incalculably deeper and stronger interest, with a certain portion of the community--after they repent, of course--which they invariably do, in an inconceivably short space of time. thus, when strong liquor, and lust, and prelatical arrogance turn bishops, priests, and deacons, into brutes, and prodigals, and sometimes into murderers, they, _invariably_, excite an interest, which they never could have excited, by preaching their very best, to the end of their lives. i have sometimes thought, that, in the matter of temperance, for which i cherish a cordial respect, a lecturer, as the performer is called, though the thing is not precisely an abstract science, cannot do a better thing, for himself and the cause, when he finds, that he is wearing out his welcome with the public, than to get pretty notoriously drunk. depend upon it, he will come forth, purified from the furnace. he will take a new departure, for his temperance voyage. his deep-wrought penitence will enlist a very large part of the army of cold-water men, in his favor. a small sizzle will be of no use; but the drunker he gets, the more marvellous the hand of god will appear, in his restoration. from these considerations, our anti-punishment society reason onward, to the following conclusions: that, whatever the penalty imposed may be, deposition, imprisonment, or death, it is all wrong, radically wrong. for, thereby, the community is deprived, for a time, or forever, of the services of a true penitent. they all become penitent, if a little time be allowed, or they are persecuted innocents, which is better still. besides, how audacious, for mere mortals to lessen the sum total of joy, among the immortals! as religious men, who, when _misguided_, commit rape or murder, invariably repent, if there is any prospect of pardon; hanging may be supposed, in many cases, to prevent that great joy, which exists in heaven--rather more than ninety-nine per cent.--over one sinner that repenteth. to be convicted of some highly disgraceful or atrocious crime, or to be acquitted, upon some technical ground, though logically convicted, in the impartial chancel of wise and good men's minds, is not such a terrible thing, after all, for a vivacious bishop, priest, or deacon; provided, in the former case, he can contrive to escape the penalty. such an one is sometimes more sure of a parish, than a candidate, of superior talents, and unspotted reputation. it is manifest, therefore, that a serious injury is done to society, by shutting up, for any great length of time, these penitent, misguided murderers, ravishers, &c., and, especially, by hanging them by the neck, till they are dead. this phrase, _hanging by the neck, till they are dead_, imports something more, than some readers are aware of. it was not uncommon, in former times, for culprits to come--_usque ad_--to the gallows, and be there pardoned, with the halter about their necks. occasionally, also, criminals were actually hung, the halter having been so mercifully adjusted, as not to break their necks, and then cut down, and pardoned. of thirty-two gentlemen, traitors, who were taken, in the reign of henry vi., , after gloucester's death, five were drawn to tyburn on a hurdle, hanged, cut down alive, marked with a knife for quartering, and then spared, upon the exhibition of a pardon. this matter is related, in rymer's foedera, xi. ; also by stowe, and by rapin, lond. ed. , iv. . we are a cruel people. our phraseology has become softened, but our practice is merciless, and our lawgivers are dracos, to a man. when a poor fellow, urged by an impulse, which he cannot resist, seizes upon the wife or the daughter of some unlucky citizen, commits a rape upon her person, and then takes her life to save his own--and what can be more natural, for all that a man hath will he give for his life--with great propriety, we call this poor fellow a _misguided man_. this is as it should be. he certainly committed a mistake. no doubt of it. but are we not all liable to mistakes? we call him a _misguided man_, which is a more christian phrase than to say, in the coarser language of the law, that he was _instigated by the devil_. but, nevertheless, we hang this _misguided_ man by the neck, till he is dead. how absurd! how unjust! a needy wanderer of the night breaks into the house of some rich, old gentleman; robs his dwelling; breaks his skull, _ex abundanti cautela_; and sets fire to the tenement; thus combining burglary, murder, and arson. he well knew, that ignorance was bliss; and that the neighborhood would be happier, in the belief, that accident was at the bottom of it all, than that such enormities had been committed, in their midst. instead of calling this individual, by all the hard names in an indictment, we charitably style him an _unfortunate person_--provided he is caught and convicted--if not, he deems himself a _lucky fellow_, of course. now, can anything be more barbarous, than to hang this _unfortunate person_, upon a gallows! a desperate debtor rouses the indignation of a disappointed creditor, by selling to another, as unincumbered, the very property, which had been transferred, as collateral security, to himself. irritated by the creditor's reproaches, and alarmed by his menaces of public exposure, the debtor decides to escape, from these compound embarrassments, by taking the life of his pursuer. he affects to be prepared for payment; and summons the creditor, to meet him, at a _convenient_ place, where he is _quite at home_, and at a _convenient_ hour, when he is _quite alone--bringing with him the evidences of the debt_. he kills this troublesome creditor. he is suspected--arrested--charged with murder--indicted--tried--defended, as ably as he can be, by honorable men, oppressed by the consciousness of their client's guilt--and finally convicted. he made no attempt, by inventing a tale of angry words and blows, to merge this murder, in a case of manslaughter: for, before his arrest, and when he fancied himself beyond the circle of suspicion, he had _framed the tale_, and reduced it to writing, in the form of a brief, portable memorandum, found upon his person. _he had paid the creditor, who hastily grasped the money and departed--returning to perform the unusual office of dashing out the debtor's name from a note delivered up, on payment, into the debtor's possession!_ thus he cut short all power to fabricate a case of manslaughter. why charge such a man with _malice prepense_? why say, that he was _instigated by the devil_? not so; he was an _unfortunate, misguided, unhappy_ man. and yet the judges, with perfect unanimity, have sentenced this unhappy man to be hanged! the liberties of the people appear to be in danger; and it is deeply to be deplored, that those gentlemen of various crafts, who are sufficiently at leisure, to sit in judgment, upon the judges themselves, have not appellate jurisdiction, in these high matters, with power to invoke the assistance of the widow's society, or some other male, or female, auxiliary _ne sutor ultra crepidam_ society. generously made available by internet archive (https://archive.org) note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see -h.htm or -h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/ / -h/ -h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/ / -h.zip) images of the original pages are available through internet archive. see https://archive.org/details/historyofmournin daveuoft transcriber's note: text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). [illustration: mary, queen of scots, _as widow of francis ii. of france, a facsimile of the original drawing by clouet, preserved in the bibliothèque nationale, paris._--reproduced expressly for this publication.] a history of mourning. by richard davey. jay's, regent street, w. _wreath composed of the flowers mentioned in shakespeare's dirges._ entered at stationers' hall.] [copyright. published at jay's, regent street, w. london mccorquodale & co., limited cardington street, n.w. [illustration: a history of mourning. by richard davey.] although tradition has not informed us whether our first parents made any marked change in their scanty garments on the death of their near relatives, it is certain that the fashion of wearing mourning and the institution of funereal ceremonies and rites are of the most remote antiquity. herodotus tells us that the egyptians over , years ago selected yellow as the colour which denoted that a kinsman was lately deceased. they, moreover, shaved their eyebrows when a relative died; but the death of a dog or a cat, regarded as divinities by this curious people, was a matter of much greater importance to them, for then they not only shaved their eyebrows, but every hair on their bodies was plucked out; and doubtless this explains the reason why so many elaborate wigs are to be seen in the various museums devoted to egyptian antiquities. it would require a volume to give an idea of the singular funereal ceremonials of this people, with whom death was regarded, so to speak, as a "speciality;" for their religion was mainly devoted to the _cultus_ of the departed, and consequently innumerable monumental tombs still exist all over egypt, the majority of which are full of mummies, whose painted cases are most artistic. [illustration: fig. .--_an egyptian lady preparing to go into mourning for the death of her pet cat._--from a picture by j. r. weguelin.] the cat was worshipped as a divinity by the egyptians. magnificent tombs were erected in its honour, sacrifices and devotions were offered to it; and, as has already been said, it was customary for the people of the house to shave their heads and eyebrows whenever pussy departed the family circle. possibly it was their exalted position in egypt which eventually led to cats being considered the "familiars" of witches in the middle ages, and even in our own time, for belief in witchcraft is not extinct. the kindly egyptians made mummies of their cats and dogs, and it is presumable that, since egypt is a corn growing, and hence a rat and mouse producing country, both dogs and cats, as killers of these vermin, were regarded with extreme veneration on account of their exterminating qualities. their mummies are often both curious and comical, for the poor beast's quaint figure and face are frequently preserved with an indescribably grim realism, after the lapse of many ages. [illustration: fig. .--_egyptian maiden presenting incense to the new-made mummy of a cat._] the funeral processions of the egyptians were magnificent; for with the principal members of the family of the deceased, if he chanced to be of royal or patrician rank, walked in stately file numerous priests, priestesses, and officials wearing mourning robes, and, together with professional mourners, filling the air with horrible howls and cries. their descendants still produce these strident and dismal lamentations on similar occasions. the egyptian pyramids, which were included among the seven wonders of the world, are seventy in number, and are masses of stone or brick, with square bases and triangular sides. although various opinions have prevailed as to their use, as that they were erected for astronomical purposes, for resisting the encroachment of the sand of the desert, for granaries, reservoirs, or sepulchres, the last-mentioned hypothesis has been proved to be correct, in recent times, by the excavations of vyse, who expended nearly £ , in investigating their object. they were the tombs of monarchs of egypt who flourished from the fourth to the twelfth dynasty, none having been constructed later than that time; the subsequent kings being buried at abydos, thebes, and other places, in tombs of a very different character. [illustration: fig. .--_the pyramids and great sphinx._--from a pen-and-ink sketch by horace vernet.] the first, or great pyramid, was the sepulchre of the cheops of herodotus, the chembes, or chemmis, of diodorus, and the suphis of manetho and eratosthenes. its height was feet inches, and its base feet square. in other words, it was higher than st. paul's cathedral, and built on an area the size of lincoln's inn fields. it has been, however, much spoiled, and stripped of its exterior blocks for the building of cairo. the original sepulchral chamber, called the subterranean apartment, feet by feet, and feet inches high, has been hewn in the solid rock, and was reached by the original passage of feet long, which descended to it by an entrance at the foot of the pyramid. a second chamber, with a triangular roof, feet by feet inches, and feet inches high, was entered by a passage rising to an inclination of ° ', terminating in a horizontal passage. it is called the queen's chamber, and occupies a position nearly in the centre of the pyramid. the monument--probably owing to the long life attained by the monarch--still progressing, a third chamber, called the king's, was finally constructed, by prolonging the ascending passage of the queen's chamber for feet farther into the very centre of the pyramid, and, after a short horizontal passage, making a room feet inch by feet inches, and feet inch high. the changes which took place in this pyramid gave rise to various traditions, even in the days of herodotus, cheops being reported to lie buried in a chamber surrounded by the waters of the nile. it took a long time for its construction-- , men being employed on it probably for above half a century, the duration of the reign of cheops. the operations in this pyramid by general vyse gave rise to the discovery of marks scrawled in red ochre in a kind of cursive hieroglyph, on the blocks brought from the quarries of tourah. these contained the name and titles of khufu (the hieroglyphic form of cheops); numerals and directions for the position of materials, etc. [illustration: fig. .--_mummies of cats and dogs._--british museum and museum of the louvre.] the second pyramid was built by suphis ii., or kephren, who reigned years, according to manethro, and who appears to have attained a great age. it has two sepulchral chambers, and must have been broken into by the calif alaziz othman ben-yousouf, a.d. . subsequently it was opened by belzoni. the masonry is inferior to that of the first pyramid, but it was anciently cased below with red granite. the third pyramid, built by menkara, who reigned years, is much smaller than the other two, and has also two sepulchral chambers, both in the solid rock. the lower chamber, which held a sarcophagus of rectangular shape of whinstone, had a pointed roof, cut like an arch inside; but the cedar coffin, in shape of a mummy, had been removed to the upper or large apartment, and its contents there rifled. amongst the debris of the coffin and in the chambers were found the legs and part of the trunk of a body with linen wrapper, supposed by some to belong to the monarch, but by others to an arab, on account of the anchylosed right knee. this body and fragments of the coffin were brought to the british museum; but the stone sarcophagus was unfortunately lost off carthagena, by the sinking of the vessel in which it was being transported to england. there are six other pyramids of inferior size and interest at gizeh; one at abou rouash, which is ruined, but of large dimensions; another at zowyet el arrian, still more ruined; another at reegah, a spot in the vicinity of abooseer, also much dilapidated, and built for the monarch user-en-ra, by some supposed to be busiris. there are five of these monuments at abooseer, one with a name supposed to be that of a monarch of the third dynasty; and another with that of the king sahura. a group of eleven pyramids remains at sakkara, and five other pyramids are at dashour, the northernmost of which, built of brick, is supposed to be that of the king asychis of herodotus, and has a name of a king apparently about the twelfth dynasty. others are at meydoon and illahoon, biahmo and medinat el fyoum, apparently the sepulchres of the last kings of the twelfth dynasty. in nubia, the ancient Æthiopia, are several pyramids, the tombs of the monarchs of meroë and of some of the ethiopian conquerors of egypt. they are taller in proportion to their base than the egyptian pyramids, and generally have a sepulchral hall, or propylon, with sculptures, which faces the east. the principal groups of these pyramids are at bege rauie, or begromi, ° n. lat., in one of which, gold rings and other objects of late art, resembling that of the ptolemaic period, were found. the numerous pyramids of mexico are of vast size and importance, but their purpose is not yet fully ascertained. completely covered as they are with dense vegetation, filled with venomous reptiles, they are difficult to investigate, but they were evidently much the same in shape and structure as the egyptian, and their entrances were richly sculptured. the art of preserving the body after death by embalming was invented by the egyptians, whose prepared bodies are known by the name of mummies. this art seems to have derived its origin from the idea that the preservation of the body was necessary for the return of the soul to the human form after it had completed its cycle of existence of three or ten thousand years. physical and sanitary reasons may also have induced the ancient egyptians; and the legend of osiris, whose body, destroyed by typhon, was found by isis, and embalmed by his son anubis, gave a religious sanction to the rite, all deceased persons being supposed to be embalmed after the model of osiris in the _abuton_ of philæ. one of the earliest embalmments on record is that of the patriarch jacob; and the body of joseph was thus prepared, and transported out of egypt. the following seems to have been the usual rule observed after death. the relations of the deceased went through the city chanting a wail for the dead. the corpse of a male was at once committed into the charge of undertakers; if a female, it was detained at home until decomposition had begun. the _paraschistes_, or flank-inciser of the district, a person of low class, conveyed the corpse home. a scribe marked with a reed-pen a line on the left side beneath the ribs, down which line the paraschistes made a deep incision with a rude knife of stone, or probably flint. he was then pelted by those around with stones, and pursued with curses. then the _taricheutes_, or preparer, proceeded to arrange the corpse for the reception of the salts and spices necessary for its preservation, and the future operations depended on the sum to be expended upon the task. when herodotus visited egypt, three methods prevailed: the first, accessible only to the wealthy, consisted in passing peculiar drugs through the nostrils, into the cavities of the skull, rinsing the body in palm wine, and filling it with resins, cassia, and other substances, and stitching up the incision in the left flank. the mummy was then steeped in natron for days, and wrapped up in linen cemented by gums, and set upright in a wooden coffin against the walls of the house or tomb. this process cost what would now amount in our money to about £ . the second process consisted in injecting into the body cedar oil, soaking it in a solution of natron for days, which eventually destroyed everything but the skin and bones. the expense was a _mina_, relatively, about £ . in the third process, used for the poorer classes, the corpse was simply washed in myrrh, and salted for days. when thus prepared the bodies were ready for sepulture, but they were often kept some time before burial--often at home--and were even produced at festive entertainments, to recall to the guests the transient lot of humanity. all classes were embalmed, even malefactors; and those who were drowned in the nile or killed by crocodiles received an embalmment from the city nearest to which the accident occurred. the ethiopians used similar means of embalming to preserve the dead, and other less successful means were used by nations of antiquity. the persians employed wax, the assyrians, honey; the jews embalmed their monarchs with spices, with which the body of our lord was also anointed; alexander the great was preserved in wax and honey, and some roman bodies have been found thus embalmed. the guanches, or ancient inhabitants of the canary isles, used an elaborate process like the egyptian; and dessicated bodies, preserved by atmospheric or other circumstances for centuries, have been found in france, sicily, england, and america, especially in central america, and peru. the art of embalming was probably never lost in europe, and de bils, ruysch, swammerdam, and clauderus boast of great success in it. during the present century it has been almost entirely discarded, except under very exceptional circumstances. [decoration] [illustration: fig. .--_tomb of runjeet singh at lahore._] leaving the oriental and remotely ancient nations aside, we will now consider the history of mourning as it was used by those peoples from whom we immediately derive our funereal customs. in ancient times, even amongst the greeks and romans, it was the custom to immolate victims--either slaves or captives--on the tomb of the departed, in order to appease the spirit, or that the soul might be accompanied by spirits of inferior persons to the realms of eternal bliss; and in india we have some difficulty even now in preventing the burning of a widow on the funeral pyre of her husband, instances of this barbarous custom occurring almost every year, notwithstanding the vigilance of our government. it would be extremely interesting to trace to their sources all the various rites and ceremonies connected with our principal subject, of every nation, savage or civilised, ancient or modern; but the task would be quite beyond my limits. a thorough investigation of the matter, assisted very materially by a systematic investigation of that mine of curious information, picard's famous "_cérémonies et coutumes religieuses de tous les peuples_", which contains so many original letters from missionaries of the th and th centuries, obliges me to come to the conclusion that there is, after all, not so much variety in the funereal ceremonies of the world as we imagine. those of the chinese and japanese resemble in many ways, very strikingly too, the ceremonies which the roman catholics employ to this day: there are the same long processions of priests and officials; and picard shows us a sketch of a very grand burial at pekin, in , in which we behold the body of the emperor of the celestials stretched upon a bier covered with deep violet satin, and surrounded by many lighted candles; prayers were said for the repose of the soul; and, as all the world knows, the costumes of the priests of buddha are supposed to have undergone, together with their creed and ritual, a great change in the early part of the th century, owing to the extraordinary influence of the jesuit missionaries who followed st. francis xavier into india and japan. the japanese cremated their dead and preserved the ashes; the chinese buried theirs; but the cingalese, after burning the body, scattered the ashes to the winds; whilst a sect of persians exposed their dead upon the top of high towers, and permitted the birds of prey to perform the duty which we assign to the gravedigger. cemeteries existed in the east at a remote epoch, and were rendered so beautiful with handsome mausoleums, groves of stately cypresses and avenues of lovely rose bushes, that they are now used as public promenades. on certain days of the year multitudes resort to them for purposes of prayer, and the armenian christians illuminate theirs with lamps and tapers on the annual feast of the commemoration of the departed. perhaps india possesses the most elegant tombs in the world, mainly built by the sovereigns of the mongol dynasty. none among them is so sumptuous as the mausoleum of taj mahal, situated about a mile outside the port of agra. it was built by shah jehan for himself and his wife arjimand banoo, surnamed mumtaz mahal; , men were employed for years erecting it. it is constructed of the purest white marble, relieved with precious stones. in the interior is the sepulchral apartment, which is chiefly decorated with lapis lazuli. the tombs of the emperor and empress, which stand under the dome, are covered with costly indian shawls of green cashmere, heavily embroidered with gold. another most beautiful specimen of mahometan sepulchral architecture is the tomb of runjeet singh, near lahore, which, though less known, is externally as magnificent as the mausoleum above described. [decoration] moses prohibited the immolation of human victims on the tombs of the dead, and decreed that relatives should signify their sorrow by the manner in which they tore their garments. they rent them according to the degrees of affinity and parentage. sometimes the tears were horizontal, and this indicated that a father, mother, wife, brother, or sister had died; but if the tear was longitudinal, it signified that some person had departed who was not a blood relation. an idea can be formed of the appalling destruction of clothing which must have occurred on certain occasions amongst the ancient jews, when we remember that on the death of a king everybody was expected to tear their garments longitudinally, and to go about with them in tatters for nine days. this curious custom possibly explains solomon's proverb, "there is a time to rend and a time to mend." the high priest among the jews was exempted from wearing mourning. the french, when they embraced christianity, added many jewish customs to their own: up to the time of the revolution of , their grand chancellor, or chief magistrate, was not bound to wear mourning even for his own father. the greeks, doubtless, derived their funereal ceremonies from the egyptians, and it is from this ancient people that we obtain the custom of wearing black as mourning. when a person in greece was dangerously ill and not expected to recover, branches of _laurestinus_ and _achanthus_ were hung up over the door, and the relatives hurried round the bed and prayed to mercury, as the conductor of souls, to have mercy upon the invalid, and either to cure him completely or else help his soul to cross the river styx. if the death really occurred, then the house was filled with cries and lamentations. the body was washed and perfumed, and covered with rich robes; a garland of flowers was placed on its head, and in its hand a cake made of wheat and honey, to appease cerberus, the porter of hell; and in the mouth a purse of money, in order to defray the expenses of charon, the ferryman of styx. in this state the deceased was exposed for two days in the vestibule of the house. at the door was a vase full of water, destined to purify the hands of those who touched the corpse. visitors to paris will remember how often they have seen a coffin exhibited in the doorway of a house, elaborately covered with flowers, having at its head a crucifix, and many lights surrounding it, everybody as they passed saluting it--the men by taking off their hats, and the women by making the sign of the cross, often using for this purpose holy water offered to them on a brush by an acolyte. now, the greeks used blessed water when they exposed their dead in front of their dwellings; possibly the french custom is derived from the grecian. the funeral in greece took place three days after the exhibition of the remains, and usually occurred before sunrise, so as to avoid ostentation. many women surrounded the bier, weeping and howling, and not a few, being professionals, were paid for their trouble. the corpse was placed on a chariot, in a coffin made of cypress wood. the male relatives walked behind, those who were of close kinship having their heads shaved. they usually cast down their eyes, and were invariably dressed in black. a choir of musicians came next, singing doleful tunes. the procession, as a rule, had not far to go, for the body of a wealthy person was usually buried in his garden--if his city house did not possess one, in that of his villa residence. [illustration: fig. .--_a greek tomb: the monument of themistocles, athens._] the greeks, it will thus be seen, buried their dead, and did not cremate them as did the romans; but in the latter years of the republic both forms of disposing of the body were common. after the burial, libations of wine were poured over the grave, and all objects of clothing which had belonged to the deceased were solemnly burnt. the ninth and fourteenth days after the funeral, the parents, dressed in white, visited the grave, and a ceremony was gone through for the repose of the soul. the anniversary of the death was also observed, and the greeks, moreover, had a general commemoration of the dead in the month of march. and here let us make a digression to see how very closely the greeks must have influenced the early christians, and consequently their more immediate descendants, the roman catholics, in the matter of religious ceremonies; for it is usual among catholics to hear a mass for the dead a week after the death, and also another on the anniversary. the universal feast of the dead is observed by them, however, not in the month of march, but in that of november. people who have lived in paris will know how very largely these funereal ceremonies enter into the manners and customs of that gay city, so that it is not unfrequent for foreign residents to observe that their time is passed in perpetually going to funerals; for, if you have a large acquaintance, you are sure to receive at least twenty or thirty invitations to funerals and funereal commemorations in the course of the year. of course, everybody will remember how on the continent the first day of november is devoted to visiting the cemeteries and decorating the tombs of relatives and friends. [illustration: fig. .--_gallo-roman bas-relief--found in paris about fifty years ago--representing a family surrounding the body of a woman who has recently died._--museum of the louvre.] to return to the greeks, it should be observed that their respect for the dead was remarkable, even amongst the ancients. if a man accidentally found a body on the high-road, he was obliged to turn aside and bury it. when the people saw a funeral procession pass, they uncovered their heads and murmured a prayer. the laws against the violation of the sepulchres of the dead were most severe, and any one who was caught damaging a tomb was usually flogged for his trouble, but if he overthrew it and disturbed the body, he was burnt alive. if a person died at sea, all the people on board the ship assembled at sunset, and cried out three times the name of the departed, who was usually thrown overboard. in the morning they repeated these calls, and so forth until the ship entered port. this was done in order to recall the names of the deceased, or at any rate to keep them propitious. when an illustrious person died in greece, the ceremonies were on a most elaborate scale, and even accompanied by games, which lasted for many days. readers of homer's "iliad" will remember his magnificent description of the death and funeral of patroclus. among the romans the men were not obliged to wear mourning, but it was the fashion for women to do so. very wisely, children under three years of age were not forced to put on black, even for their parents, and after that age, only for as many months as they had lived years. the roman ladies only wore mourning for their parents for one year. men were expected to wear it for the same period in the case of the death of a father, mother, wife, sister, or brother. numa fixed the period of wearing deep mourning for the nearest of kin as ten months. people, however, were not obliged to wear mourning for any of their relatives who had been in prison, were bankrupt, or in any way outlawed. numa published a minute series of laws regulating the mourning of his people. a very odd item in these included an order that women should not scratch their faces, or make an exceptional fuss at a public funeral. this was possibly decreed to put some stop to abuses which the hired mourners had occasioned: scratching their faces, for instance, so as to injure themselves, and making an over-dismal wail which was offensive to the genuine mourners. for freedmen and slaves among the romans, the greatest mark of respect was the erection of a monument or inscription in the tomb reserved for the family they had served. thousands of these inscriptions to slaves and faithful servants still exist, and lead us to hope that the hardships of slavery in ancient rome were often softened by mutual kindness and respect. one of the most touching of these is in a tomb on the appian road, which is supposed to have belonged to the attendants of livia, the illustrious consort of augustus. it runs:-- "to my beloved julia, my slave-woman, whose last illness i have watched and attended as if it had been that of my own mother." tombs of slaves who were martyrs to the christian religion are very frequent, and their inscriptions are usually of a most pathetic description. the ashes of the dead, after the solemn burning of the body, were carefully gathered together and placed in an often very beautifully painted urn, and taken to the family tomb on the appian way, where an appropriate inscription was affixed to the wall under the niche containing the vase or urn. little glass bottles, said to be filled with the tears of the nearest relations, were likewise enclosed in the urn, or else hung up beside it. thousands of these, brilliant, after ages, with iridescent colours, are still found in the roman tombs. it was not imperative for a man in old rome to wear mourning at all; but it was considered very bad taste for a male not to show some external sign of respect for his dead. with women, on the other hand, it was obligatory. on great occasions, such as the death of an emperor or a defeat of the army in foreign parts, the senate, the knights, and the whole roman people assumed mourning; and the same ceremony was observed when any general of the roman army was slain in battle. when manlius was precipitated from the tarpeian rock, half the people put on mourning. the defeat at cannæ, the conspiracy of catilina, and the death of julius cæsar were also events celebrated in rome with public mourning; but during the whole period of the republic it was not compulsory for people to notice death, either publicly or privately. the first public mourning recorded as being observed throughout the entire roman empire was that for augustus. it lasted for fifty days for the men, and the whole year for women. the next public event which called forth a decree commanding that the entire people of rome and the empire should wear mourning, was the death of livia, mother of tiberius. the same thing occurred at the death of drusus; and caligula followed the example, and ordered general mourning on the death of drusilla. private mourning, which was among the romans, as we have already intimated, not at all compulsory, could be broken by events such as the birth of a son or daughter, the marriage of a child, and the return of a prisoner of war. men wore lighter mourning than women, but were expected to absent themselves from places of public amusement. the usual colour adopted by women for mourning, under the roman empire, was a peculiar blue-black serge, and an absolutely black veil. as with us, occasionally, the wearing of mourning brought forth some sharp remarks from the satirical poets. thus, macrobius tells us, in his saturnalia, that croesus on one occasion went to the senate wearing the deepest mourning for the largest lamprey in his tank, which had died. women were not allowed to remarry within the year of their husband's death. imperial permission, however, might smooth this difficulty. among the early christians the sincerest respect for the memory of their dead was paid; for most of them, in the first centuries of the church, were either martyrs or near connections of such as had suffered for the faith. the catacombs are covered with inscriptions recording the deaths of martyrs; and many of these memorials are exceedingly pathetic, testifying to the fortitude with which the first christians endured any manner of torture rather than deny the new faith which had been imparted to them by divine revelation. the remains of the martyrs, however mangled they might be, were gathered together with the greatest reverence, and their blood placed in little phials of glass, which were considered relics of a most precious nature. the catacombs, which served the first christians as churches as well as places of burial, are called after the most distinguished martyrs who were buried therein. in that of st. calixtus, for instance--where that early and martyred pope was interred--about two centuries ago was found the body of saint cecilia, "the sweet patroness of music." with such precaution had her remains been transported to their place of interment, that bernini, the most eminent sculptor of the th century, was able to take a cast of them, which he subsequently worked into a lovely statue, representing the saint in the graceful and modest attitude in which it is said her body was found after the lapse of a thousand years. this exquisite work of art is to be seen in the church which bears saint cecilia's name, in the trastevere; and a fine replica of it is in the chapel of st. cecilia, in the oratory, brompton. [illustration: fig. .--_divine service in the catacombs of st. calixtus_, a.d. .] the catacombs are subterraneous chambers and passages usually formed in the rock, which is soft and easily excavated, and are to be found in almost every country in which such rocks exist. in most cases, probably, they originated in mere quarries, which afterwards came to be used either as places of sepulchre for the dead, or as hiding-places for the persecuted living. the most celebrated catacombs in existence are those on the via appia, at a short distance from rome. to these dreary crypts the early christians were in the habit of retiring, in order to celebrate divine worship in times of persecution, and in them were buried many of the saints, the early popes, and martyrs. they consist of long narrow galleries, usually about eight feet high and five wide, which twist and turn in all directions. the graves were constructed by hollowing out a portion of the rock, at the side of the gallery, large enough to contain the body. the entrance was then built up with stones, on which usually the letters d. m. (deo maximo), or [chr], the first two letters of the greek name of christ, were inscribed. though latterly devoted to purposes of christian interment exclusively, it is believed that the catacombs were at one time used as burying-places for pagans also, and there are one or two which were evidently entirely devoted to the jews. at irregular intervals, these galleries expand into wide and lofty vaulted chambers, in which the service of the church was no doubt celebrated, and which still have the appearance of chapels. the original extent of the catacombs is uncertain, the guides maintaining that they have a length of twenty miles, whereas about six only can now be ascertained to exist, and of these, many portions have either fallen in or become dangerous. when rome was besieged by the lombards in the th century, several of the catacombs were destroyed, and the popes afterwards caused the remains of many of the saints and martyrs to be removed and buried in the churches. the catacombs at naples, cut into the capo di monte, resemble those at rome, and evidently were used for the same purposes, being partially covered with remarkable christian symbols. at palermo and syracuse, there are similar catacombs, and they are also to be found in greece, asia minor, syria, persia, and egypt. at milo, one of the cyclades, there is a hill which is honeycombed with a labyrinth of tombs running in every direction. in these, bassorilievi and figures in terra-cotta have been found, which prove them to be long anterior to the christian era. in peru and other parts of south america, ancient catacombs still exist. the catacombs of paris are a species of charnel-house, into which the contents of such burying-places as were found to be pestilential, and the bodies of some of the victims of the revolution, were cast by a decree of the government. the skulls are arranged in curious forms, and a visit to these weird galleries is one of the sights of paris, which few strangers, however, are privileged to study. the capuchin monks have frequently attached to their monasteries, a cloister filled with earth brought from the holy land. in this the monks are buried for a time, until their bones are quite fleshless, when they are arranged in surprising groups in the long corridors of a series of galleries, and produce sometimes the reverse of a solemn effect. [illustration: fig. .--_crypt of a chapel in the catacomb of st. agnes, without the walls of rome (restored), showing the manner in which the bodies of the early christians were arranged one above the other. the front of each tomb was of course walled up._--from the work on the catacombs of rome, by m. perret.] [illustration: fig. .--_an anglo-saxon widow lady. the upper garment is of black cloth, edged with fur, and a veil of black gauze hangs from the head._-- th century ms., national library, paris.] as the church emerged from the catacombs, and was enabled to take her position in the world, her funereal ceremonies became more elaborate and costly. masses for the dead were offered up in the churches, to the accompaniment of music and singing; and the funereal ceremonies which attended the burial of the empress theodolinda, a.d. , the friend and correspondent of pope st. gregory the great, lasted for over a week. the cathedral of monza, where she was buried, was hung with costly black stuff, and the body of the empress was exhibited under a magnificent catafalque, surrounded with lights, and was visited by pilgrims from all parts of lombardy. many hundreds of masses were said for her in all the churches, and all day the great bells of the cathedral and of the various monastic establishments tolled dolefully. at the end of the week the body of the illustrious empress was placed in the vault under the high altar, where it remains to this day; and above it was a shrine filled with extraordinary relics, many of which still subsist, as, for instance, her celebrated "hen and chickens"--a plateau or tray of silver gilt with some gold chickens with ruby eyes upon it--and the famous iron crown, which is, indeed, of gold, having one of the nails said to have been used at the crucifixion beaten in a single band round the inside. napoleon i. crowned himself, at milan, king of italy, with this singular relic. [illustration: fig. .--_an anglo-saxon priest wearing a black dalmatic, edged with fur, ready to say a requiem mass._--from an early ms., th century.] our catholic ancestors spent large sums of money upon their funerals. the pious practice of praying for the dead, which they doubtless derived from the hebrews, induced them to secure the future exertions of their friends, by building chanteries and special chapels in the churches, with a view of reminding the survivors of their demise. guilds, which by the way, still exist, were created for the purpose of binding people together in a holy league of prayer for the souls of the faithful departed. we find in the laws established for the guild of abbotsbury, the following regulations:--"if any one belonging to the association chance to die, each member shall pay a penny for the good of the soul, before the body be laid in the grave. if he die in the neighbourhood, the steward (secretary) shall enquire when he is to be interred, and shall summon as many members as he can, to assemble and carry the corpse in as honourable a manner as possible to the grave or minster, and there pray devoutly for his soul's rest." with the same view, our ancestors were ever anxious to obtain a place of sepulchre in the most frequented churches. the monuments raised over their remains, whilst keeping them safe from profanation, recalled them to memory, and solicited on their behalf the charity of the faithful. the usual inscription on the earlier christian tombs in this country was the pathetic "of your charity, pray for me." in the guild of all souls, in london, when any member died, it was the custom of the survivors to give the poor a loaf for the good of the soul; and the writer can perfectly remember, that some thirty years since, in remote parts of norfolk, when anybody died, it was the fashion to distribute loaves of bread in the church porch as a dole. the funeral of an anglo-saxon was thus conducted:--the body of the deceased was placed on a bier or in a hearse. on it lay the book of the gospels, the code of his or her belief, and the cross, the signal of hope. a pall of silk or linen was thrown over it till it reached the place of interment. the friends were summoned, and strangers deemed it a duty to join the funeral procession. the clergy walked before or on each side, bearing lighted tapers in their hands, and chanting a portion of the psalter. if it were in the evening, the night was passed in exercises of devotion. in the morning, mass was sung and the body deposited with solemnity in the grave, the sawlshot paid, and a liberal donation distributed to the poor. before the reformation, it was the excellent custom for all persons who met a funeral to uncover and stand reverentially still until it had passed. the pious turned back, and accompanied the mourners a part of the way to the grave. it is pleasant to notice that this essentially humane habit of taking off the hat and behaving gravely as a funeral goes by, which is universal upon the continent, is at last becoming more and more general here. the homage of the living to the mortal remains of even the humblest is excellent, and one which should be earnestly encouraged, being far more beneficial in its results than the heaping of costly flowers upon a hearse, which no one notices as it passes, laden with its ephemeral offerings, to the cemetery. [illustration: fig. .--_funeral of st. edward the confessor, january th, . the body, covered with a silken pall adorned with crosses, is carried by eight men, and followed by many priests, to westminster abbey, which he had founded. under the bier are seen two small figures ringing bells._--from the bayeux tapestry, worked by matilda of flanders, queen of william the conqueror, and preserved in the cathedral at bayeux-- th century.] the funeral of edward the confessor was exceedingly magnificent, and the shrine built over his relics, behind the high altar of the glorious abbey which he founded, is still an object of reverence with our roman catholic fellow-citizens, who, on st. edward's day, are permitted by a tolerant age to offer their devotions before the resting-place of the last of our saxon kings. but our first norman king was buried with scant ceremony. he died , at hermentrude, a village near rouen, having been taken suddenly ill on his way to england. no sooner was the illustrious king deceased, than his servants plundered the house and even the corpse, flinging it naked upon the floor. herleadin, a peasant, undertook at last to convey the body to caen, where it was to be buried in the abbey of st. stephen, prince henry and the monks being present. scarcely, however, was the mass of requiem begun, when the church took fire, and everybody fled, leaving william the conqueror's hearse neglected in the centre of the transept. at last the flames were extinguished, the interrupted service finished, and the funeral sermon preached. just, however, as the coffin was about to be lowered into the vault, anselm fitz-arthur, a norman gentleman, stood forth and forbade the interment. "this spot," cried he, "is the site of my father's house, which this dead man burnt to ashes. on the ground it occupied i built this church, and william's body shall not desecrate it." after much ado, however, fitz-arthur was prevailed upon by prince henry to allow the body to be buried, on the payment of sixty shillings as the price of the grave. in the th century the calvinists ravaged the tomb and broke the monument. it was restored in , but finally swept away, together with that of queen matilda, in the revolution of . [decoration] [illustration: fig. .--_the shrine of the confessor, in westminster abbey._] [illustration: fig. .--_funeral of an abbess-- th century._--from a ms.] perhaps the most curious funeral on record occurred just at the dawn of the renaissance--that of the ill-fated inez de castro--"the queen crowned after death"--who was murdered in the th century by three assassins in her own apartment at coimbra. "being conveyed," says the chronicle of fray jao das reglas, "to the chapel of the neighbouring convent, her body was arrayed in spotless white and decked with roses. the nuns surrounded the bier, and the queen-mother of portugal, brittes, sat in state--her crown upon her head and her royal robes flowing around her--as chief mourner, having given an order that the body should not be buried until after the return of her son don pedro. when he did come back, he was transported with grief and anger at the foul murder of his consort; and, throwing himself upon the corpse, clasped it to his heart, covered its pale lips, its hands, its feet with kisses, and, refusing all consolation, remained for thirty hours with the body clasped in his embrace! at last, being overcome with fatigue, the unhappy prince was carried away senseless from the piteous remains of his most dear inez, and they were consigned to the grave. it was his father who had instigated the murderers to commit their foul deed, and this determined pedro to take up arms against him; and portugal was desolated by civil war. eventually the reasoning of the queen (brittes) prevailed, and peace was restored. pedro, however, never spoke to his father again until the hour of his death, when he forgave the great wrong he had done him. he now ascended the throne, and his first act was to hunt down the three murderers, two of whom were put to death, with tortures too awful to describe, and the other escaped into france, where he died a beggar. after this retributive act, don pedro assembled the cortes at cantandes, and, in the presence of the pope's nuncio, solemnly swore that he had secretly married inez de castro at braganza, in the presence of the bishop and of other witnesses." "then occurred an event unique in history," continues this naive contemporary chronicle. "the body of inez was lifted from the grave, placed on a magnificent throne, and crowned queen of portugal. the clergy, the nobility, and the people did homage to her corpse, and kissed the bones of her hands. there sat the dead queen, with her yellow hair hanging like a veil round her ghastly form. one fleshless hand held the sceptre, and the other the orb of royalty. at night, after the coronation ceremony, a procession was formed of all the clergy and nobility, the religious orders and confraternities--which extended over many miles--each person holding a flaring torch in his hand, and thus walked from coimbra to alcobaça, escorting the crowned corpse to that royal abbey for interment. the dead queen lay in her rich robes upon a chariot drawn by black mules and lighted up by hundreds of lights." [illustration: fig. .--_bird's-eye view of the monument (restored) of the queen inez of castro, abbey of alcobaça, portugal._] the scene must indeed have been a weird one. the sable costumes of the bishops and priests, the incense issuing from innumerable censers, the friars in their quaint garments, and the fantastically-attired members of the various hermandades, or brotherhoods--some of whom were dressed from head to foot entirely in scarlet, or blue, or black, or in white--with their countenances masked and their eyes glittering through small openings in their cowls; but above all, the spectre-like corpse of the queen, on its car, and the grief-stricken king, who led the train--when seen by the flickering light of countless torches, with its solemn dirge music, passing through many a mile of open country in the midnight hours--was a vision so unreal that the chronicler describes it as "rather a phantasmagoria than a reality." in the magnificent abbey of alcobaça the _requiem_ mass was sung, and the corpse finally laid to rest. the monument still exists, with the statue, with its royal diadem and mantle, lying thereon. the tomb of don pedro is placed foot to foot with that of inez, so--the legend runs--that at the judgment day they may rise together and stand face to face. in the bodies of don pedro i. and dona inez de castro were disturbed by the french, at the sack of alcobaça. the skeleton of inez was discovered to be in a singular state of preservation--the hair exceedingly long and glossy, and the head bound with a golden crown set with jewels of price. singularly enough, this crown, although very valuable, was kicked about by the men as a toy and thrown behind the high altar, whence, as soon as the troops evacuated the monastery, it was carefully taken and laid aside by the abbot. shortly afterwards it again encircled the unhappy queen's head, when, by order of the duke of wellington, the remains were once more replaced in the tomb, with military honours. [illustration: fig. .--_funeral service, in which are shown the candelabra and incense vessels which were deposited in the coffin._--drawing of the th century--collection of the rev. father cochet.] [illustration: fig. .--_angels praying over a skull._--bas-relief of th century.] [illustration: figs. & .--_death criers_--_french costumes of th century. the english dress was almost identical._--from a rare print in the collection of mr. richard davey. engraved expressly for this publication.] funeral services of great magnificence entered largely into the customs of this pageantic epoch; and to this day, in catholic countries, no religious ceremonies are conducted with more pomp than those intended to commemorate the departed. besides the religious orders, there were numerous confraternities, guilds, and brotherhoods devoted to the burying and praying for the deceased. as no newspapers existed in those days, when a person of distinction died, the "death crier,"--in some parts of england called the "death watch,"--dressed in black, with a death's-head and cross-bones painted on the back and front of his gown, and armed with a bell, went the round of the town or village, as the case might be, shouting "of your charity, good people, pray for the soul of our dear brother, [or sister] who departed this life at such and such an hour." upon this the windows and doors of the houses were opened, and the "good people" said an ave or a pater for the "rest" of the dead, and at the same time the passing bell was tolled. in london, when the king or queen died, the crier, or "death watch," who paraded our principal thoroughfares was, of course, a very important personage. attended by the whole brotherhood, or guild, of the holy souls, with cross-bearer, each carrying a lighted candle, he proceeded processionally through the streets, notably up and down cheapside and the strand, solemnly ringing his bell, and crying out in a lugubrious voice his sad news. these criers, both in england and france, were paid, as officials, by the civic corporation so much per day, and were obliged, in addition to their usual mournful occupation, to inspect and report on the condition of low taverns and places of ill-fame. in the course of time they added to their "cry" news of a more miscellaneous character, and after the reformation, became, we may well imagine, those rather musty folks the "watch," who only disappeared from our midst as late as the early half of this century. [illustration: fig. .--_pall from the church of folleville, france, now in the museum at amiens. it is of black velvet, with stripes of white silk let in, embroidered with black and gold thread. it was placed over the coffin. similar palls existed in england, and one or two are still preserved in our national collections._] [illustration: fig. .--_scene from richard iii._--_the body of henry vi. being by chance met by richard on its way to chertsey, he orders the bearers to set it down, and then pleads his cause to the lady anne._] shakespeare, whose knowledge of catholicism of course came to him from immediate tradition, possibly remembered a very ancient custom when, in _richard iii._, he makes the duke of glo'ster command the attendants who follow the body of henry vi. to set it down,--an order which they obey reluctantly enough,--thereby giving him an opportunity to make love to lady anne in the presence of her murdered father-in-law's remains. in catholic times the streets were adorned not only by many fine crosses, such as those at charing and cheapside, but also by numerous chapels and wayside shrines. funerals, when they passed these, were in the habit of stopping, and the assistants, kneeling, prayed for the dead person whom they were carrying to the grave. they likewise stopped, also, and very frequently too, at certain well-known public-houses or taverns, the members of the family of the deceased being obliged by custom to "wet the lips" of the "thirsty souls" who carried the corpse. sometimes very disorderly scenes ensued. the hired mourners and more unruly members of the guilds got drunk; and it is on record that on more than one occasion the body was pulled out of its coffin by these rascals and outraged, to the horror and indignation of honest people. it has frequently occurred to the writer, that if the attendants in the curious scene in the tragedy just mentioned, were to convey the body of the dead king to the side or back of the stage, in front of some shrine or cross, and occupy themselves with prayer, they would render the astonishing dialogue between glo'ster and lady anne much more intelligible than when we hear it spoken, as is usually the case, before a number of persons for whose ears it was certainly never intended. [illustration: fig. .--_funeral of king richard ii., showing his waxen effigy._--from an early ms. of froissart.] important personages in olden times in this country were usually embalmed. the poor, on the contrary, were rarely furnished even with a decent coffin, but were carried to the grave in a hired one, which, in villages, often did duty for many successive years. once the brief service was said, the pauper's body, in its winding-sheet, was placed reverently enough in the earth, and covered up--a fact which doubtless accounts for the numerous village legends of ghosts wandering about in winding-sheets. charitable people paid for masses to be said by the friars for their poorer brethren, and the guilds paid all expenses of the funeral, which were naturally not very considerable. on the other hand, the funeral of great personages, from king to squire, was a function which sometimes lasted a week. the bell tolled--as it still does--the moment the death became known to the bell-ringer. then the body was washed, embalmed with spices and sweet herbs, wrapped in a winding-sheet of fine linen,--which, by the way, was often included among the wedding presents--and taken down into the hall of the palace or manor, which was hung with black, and lighted by many tapers, and even by waxen torches--sometimes as many as and of them--an immense expense, considering the cost of wax in those days. after three days' exposition--if the body remained incorrupt so long--the corpse was sealed up in a leaden coffin, and taken to the church, where solemn masses were sung. the clothes--we may presume the old and well-worn ones only--were then formally distributed to the poor of the parish. finally came the funeral banquet of "baked meats," to which all those, including the clergy, who had taken part in the funeral service and procession were invited. when the sovereign or any person of royal rank deceased, a waxen presentment was immediately made of him as he was seen in life under the influence of sleep. this figure, dressed in the regal robes, was exposed upon the catafalque in the church, instead of the real body--a custom doubtless inspired originally by hygienic motives, for frequently the funeral rites of a king or prince of the blood were prolonged for many days. in westminster abbey there are still several of these grim ancient waxen effigies to be seen, by special permission of the dean, very faded and ghastly, but interesting as likenesses, and for the fragments which time has spared of their once gorgeous attire. this custom lasted with us until the time of william and mary. in france it disappeared in the middle of the th century, the last mention of it being on the occasion of the death of anne of austria; for we read in a curious letter from guy patin to his friend falconet, "the queen-mother died to-day [jan. , ]. she was immediately embalmed, and by noon her waxen effigy was on view at the louvre. thousands are pressing in to see it." [illustration: fig. .--_funeral procession of king henry v._, a.d. .] in france, so long as the wax effigy was exposed in the church or palace, sometimes for three weeks, the service of the royal person's table took place as usual. his or her chair of state was drawn up to the table, the napkin, knife and fork, spoon and glass, were in their usual places, and at the appointed time the dinner was served to the household, and "the meats, drinks, and all other goodly things" were offered before the dead prince's chair, as if he were still seated therein. when, however, the coffin took the place in the church of the wax figure, and the body was put into the grave, then the banqueting-hall was hung with black, and for eight days no meals were served in it of any kind. [illustration: fig. .--_queen katherine de valois in her widow's dress, a.d. . the costume is of black brocade elaborately trimmed with black glass beads, and trimmed with white fur._--ms. of the period.] we still possess some curious details concerning the funeral of henry v., who died at vincennes in . juvenal des usines tells us that the body was boiled, so as to be converted into a perfect skeleton, for better transportation into england. the bones were first taken to notre dame, where a superb funeral service was said over them. just above the body they placed a figure made of boiled leather, representing the king's person "as well as might be desired," clad in purple, with the imperial diadem on its brow and the sceptre in its hand. thus adorned, the coffin and the effigy were placed on a gorgeous chariot, covered with a "coverture" of red velvet beaten with gold. in this manner, followed by the king of scots, as chief mourner, and by all the princes, lords, and knights of his house, was the body of the illustrious hero of agincourt conveyed from town to town, until it reached calais and was embarked for england, where it was finally laid at rest in westminster abbey, under a new monument erected by queen katherine de valois, who eventually caused a silver-plated effigy of her husband, with a solid silver gilt head, to be placed on the tomb, which was unfortunately destroyed at the time of the reformation. the funeral of eleanor of castile, the adored consort of edward i., was exceptionally sumptuous. this amiable queen died at hardbey, near grantham, of "autumnal" fever, on november , . the pressing affairs of scotland were obliterated for the time from the mind of the great edward, and he refused to attend to any state duty until his "loved ladye" was laid at rest at westminster. the procession, followed by the king in the bitterest woe, took thirteen days to reach london from grantham. at the end of every stage the royal bier surrounded by its attendants, rested in some central place of a great town, till the neighbouring ecclesiastics came to meet it in solemn procession, and to place it upon the high altar of the principal church. a cross was erected in memory of king edward's _chère reine_ at every one of these resting-places. thirteen of these monuments once existed; now only two of the originals remain, the crosses of northampton and waltham. the fac-simile at charing cross, opposite the railway station, though excellent, is of course modern, and does not occupy the right spot, which was, it is said on good authority, exactly where now stands the statue of charles ii. the chronicler of dunstable thus describes the ceremony of marking the sites for these crosses: "her body passed through dunstable and rested one night, and two precious cloths were given us, and eighty pounds of wax. and when the body of queen eleanor was departing from dunstable, her bier rested in the centre of the market-place till the king's chancellor and the great men there present had marked a fitting place where they might afterwards erect, at the royal expense, a cross of wonderful size,--our prior being present, who sprinkled the spot with holy water." perhaps the most magnificent funeral which took place before the reformation was that of elizabeth of york, consort of henry vii. it was one of the last great roman catholic state funerals in england, for the obsequies of henry vii. himself were conducted on a much diminished scale; and those of the wives of henry viii., and of that monster himself, were not accompanied by so much pomp, owing to the religious troubles of the time. queen elizabeth of york was the last english queen who died at the tower. her obsequies took place in the chapel of st. mary, which was, until quite lately, the rolls office, and which was magnificently hung on this occasion with black brocade. the windows were veiled with crape. the queen's body rested on a bed of state, in a _chapelle ardente_, surrounded by over , wax candles. high mass was said during the earlier hours of the morning, and in the afternoon solemn vespers were sung. when the queen's body was nailed up in its coffin, the usual waxen effigy took its place. the procession left st. mary's, in the tower, at noon, for westminster abbey, and was of exceeding length. at every hundred yards it was met by the religious corporations, fraternities, and guilds, and by the children attached to sundry monastic and charitable foundations, some of them dressed as angels, with golden wings, and all of them singing psalms. there were over , wax tapers burning between mark lane and the temple; and the fronts of all the churches were hung with black, and brilliantly illuminated. the people in the streets held candles, and repeated prayers. at temple bar the body was received by the municipal officers of the city of westminster, who accompanied it to the abbey, where the queen's effigy was exhibited with great state for two days, and on the morning of the third she was buried in what is since known as "henry vii.'s chapel." [illustration: fig. .--_gentleman in mourning, time of henry vii. the costume is entirely black, edged with black fur._--from a contemporary ms.] the funeral of the unfortunate katherine of arragon took place, as all the world knows, in peterborough cathedral. [illustration: fig. .--_richard i. and his queen attending the requiem mass for the fallen crusaders, in the cathedral of rhodes._] in a recently discovered contemporary spanish chronicle, translated by mr. martin sharpe hume, it seems that the servants of the "blessed lady" (queen katherine) were all dressed in mourning, and the funeral was a fairly handsome one. more than three hundred masses were said during the day at peterborough, for all the clergy for fifteen miles round came to the various services. chapuy, the spanish ambassador to the court of king henry, in a letter to his master charles v., however, informs him that the funeral of queen katherine was mean and shabby in the extreme, quite unworthy even of an ordinary baroness. jane seymour fared better after death than any other of the wives of henry viii., and was buried with considerable solemnity at windsor. the first royal protestant state funeral mentioned as taking place in this country was that of queen catherine parr, at sudeley castle. the ceremony was of the simplest description: psalms were sung over the remains, and a brief discourse pronounced. the lady jane grey was chief mourner. [illustration: fig. .--_lying in state of queen elizabeth of york, consort of henry vii._] the author of the spanish chronicle just mentioned, who evidently witnessed the interment of henry viii., assures us that the waxen effigy of the king was carried in a chair to windsor, and was an astonishing likeness. it was followed by , gentlemen on horseback, the horses all being draped with black velvet. many masses were said in st. george's chapel for the rest of the king's soul, but the obsequies do not appear to have been exceptionally splendid. [illustration: fig. .--_tomb of henry v._] the funeral of anne of cleves, who had become a catholic, took place at westminster, under the special supervision of queen mary. it was a plain but handsome function, conducted with good taste, but without ostentation. the unpopular mary tudor's funeral was the last catholic state ceremony of the kind which ever took place in westminster abbey. queen elizabeth attended her sister's funeral, which was a simple one, and listened attentively to the funeral oration preached by dr. white bailey, of winchester, who, when he spoke of poor mary's sufferings, wept bitterly, and exclaimed, looking significantly at her successor, _melior est canis vivis leone mortuo_. elizabeth understood her latin too well not to be fired with indignation at this elegant simile, which declared a "living dog better than a dead lion," and ordered the bishop to be arrested as he descended from the pulpit, and a violent scene occurred between him and the queen, which, her majesty prudently permitted him to have the best of, by withdrawing with her train from the abbey. [illustration: fig. .--_departure of the body of queen elizabeth from greenwich palace, for interment at westminster._] queen elizabeth died in the seventieth year of her age and the forty-fourth of her reign, march , on the eve of the festival of the annunciation, called lady day. among the complimentary epitaphs which were composed for her, and hung up in many churches, was one ending with the following couplet:-- "she is, she was--what can there be more said? on earth the first, in heaven the second maid." it is stated by lady southwell that directions were left by elizabeth that she should not be embalmed; but cecil gave orders to her surgeon to open her. "now, the queen's body being cered up," continues lady southwell, "was brought by water to whitehall, where, being watched every night by six several ladies, myself that night watching as one of them, and being all in our places about the corpse, which was fast nailed up in a board coffin, with leaves of lead covered with velvet, her body burst with such a crack that it splitted the wood, lead, and cere-cloth; whereupon, the next day she was fain to be new trimmed up." elizabeth was most royally interred in westminster abbey on the th of april, . we subjoin a rare contemporary engraving of the funeral procession, by which it will be seen with what pomp and ceremony the remains of the great queen were escorted to their last resting-place. "the city of westminster," says stow, "was surcharged with multitudes of all sorts of people, in the streets, houses, windows, leads, and gutters, who came to see the obsequy. and when they beheld her statue, or effigy, lying on the coffin, set forth in royal robes, having a crown upon the head thereof, and a ball and a sceptre in either hand, there was such a general sighing, groaning, and weeping as the like hath not been seen or known in the memory of man; neither doth any history mention any people, time, or state to make such lamentation for the death of a sovereign." the funereal effigy which, by its close resemblance to their deceased sovereign, moved the sensibility of the loyal and excitable portion of the spectators at her obsequies in this powerful manner, was no other than the faded waxwork effigy of queen elizabeth preserved in westminster abbey. [illustration: fig. .--_a memento mori, or death's-head timepiece, in solid silver, lately exhibited at the stuart exhibition, - . on the forehead is a figure of death standing between a palace and a cottage: around is this legend from horace,_ "pallida mors equo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas regum que turres." _on the hind part of the skull is a figure of time, with another legend from ovid:_ "tempus edax rerum tuque mirdiosa vetustas." _the upper part of the skull bears representations of adam and eve and the crucifixion; between these scenes is open work to let out the sound when the watch strikes the hour upon a silver bell which fills the hollow of the skull and receives the works within it when the watch is shut. on the edge is inscribed:_ "sicut meis sic et omnibus idem." _it bears the maker's name, moysart à blois. belonged formerly to mary queen of scots, and by her was given to the seton family, and inherited thence by its actual owner, sir t. w. dick lauder._] elizabeth was interred in the same grave with her sister and predecessor in regal office, mary tudor. her successor, james i., has left a lasting evidence of his good feeling and good taste in the noble monument he erected to her memory in the abbey, and she was the last sovereign of this country to whom a monument has been given. [illustration: fig. .--_funeral of queen elizabeth, th of april, ._--from a very rare contemporary engraving, reproduced expressly, and for the first time, for this work, by m. badoureau, of paris. no. represents the wax effigy of the queen lying on her coffin; gentlemen pensioners carrying the banners. the chariot is drawn by four horses. . kings at arms. . noblemen. . the archbishop of canterbury. . the french ambassador and his train-bearer. . the great standard of england, carried by the earl of pembroke. . the master of the horse. . the lady marchioness of northampton, grand mourner, and the ladies in attendance on the queen. . captain of the guard. . lord clanricarde carrying the standard of ireland. . standard of wales, borne by viscount bindon, followed by the lord mayor. . gentlemen of the chapels royal; children of the chapels. . trumpeters. . standard of the lion. . standard of the greyhound. . the queens horse. . poor women to the number of . . the banner of cornwall. the aldermen, recorders, town clerks, etc.] we have very minute details of how royal personages were buried in france, in a curious book published in the th century, from a ms. of the time of louis xi. in it we learn that king louis xi. wore scarlet for mourning on the death of his father, charles vii. up to the time of louis xiv. the queens of france, if they became widowed, wore white; and this is the reason that mary tudor was called "_la reine blanche_," when she clandestinely married the duke of suffolk in the chapel of that most interesting place, the maison cluny, now a museum, which still retains its name of _la reine blanche_. the queen had been but a very short time the widow of charles viii., and still wore her weeds when she gave her hand to the lusty english duke. mary stuart wore white for her husband, francis ii. of france; and when she arrived in scotland she still retained, for some months, her white robes, and was called the "white queen" in consequence. but this illustrious and ill-fated princess throughout the greater part of her life wore black, and we have many minute details of her dresses, especially of the stately one she wore on the day of her execution, which was of brocaded satin, having a train of great length; a ruffle of white lawn, edged with lace; and a veil (which still exists) made of drawn threads, in a check-board pattern, and edged with flemish lace. from her girdle was suspended a rosary, and in her hand she carried a crucifix. her under garments, we know, were scarlet; for, when she removed her dress upon the scaffold, the bodice at least, all contemporaries agree, was flame-coloured. queen elizabeth ordered her court to go into mourning for the queen of scots, whose sad and "accidental" death she hypocritically decreed should be regarded as a very great misfortune. [illustration: fig. .--_french lady of the th century in widow's weeds. this costume is identical with that worn by mary stuart as widow of the dauphin, only her dress was perfectly white._--from pietro vercellio's famous work on costume, engraved expressly for this publication.] king james ordered the deepest mourning to be worn for his royal mother--a requisition with which all his nobles complied, except the earl of sinclair, who appeared before him clad in steel. the king frowned, and inquired if he had not seen the order for a general mourning. "yes," was the noble's reply; "this is the proper mourning for the queen of scotland." james, however, whatever his inclinations might have been, was unprovided with the means of levying war against england, and his ministers were entirely under the control of the english faction, and, after maintaining a resentful attitude for a time, he was at length obliged to accept elizabeth's "explanation" of the murder of his mother. early in march, , the obsequies of mary stuart were solemnised by the king, nobles, and people of france, with great pomp, in the cathedral of notre dame at paris, and a passionately eloquent funeral oration was pronounced by renauld de beaulue, archbishop of bourges and patriarch of acquitaine, which brought tears to the eyes of every person in the congregation. after mary's body had remained for nearly six months apparently forgotten by her murderers, elizabeth considered it necessary, in consequence of the urgent and pathetic memorials of the afflicted servants of the unfortunate princess and the remonstrances of her royal son, to accord it not only christian burial, but a pompous state funeral. this she appointed to take place in peterborough cathedral, and, three or four days before, sent some officials to make the necessary arrangements for the solemnity. the place selected for the interment was at the entrance of the choir from the south aisle. the grave was dug by the centogenarian sexton, scarlett. heralds and officers of the wardrobe were also sent to fotheringay castle to make arrangements for the removal of the royal body, and to prepare mourning for all the servants of the murdered queen. moreover, as their head-dresses were not of the approved fashion for mourning in england, elizabeth sent a milliner on purpose to make others, in the orthodox mode, proper to be worn at the funeral, and to be theirs afterwards. however, these true mourners coldly, but firmly declined availing themselves of these gifts and attentions, declaring "that they would wear their own dresses, such as they had got made for mourning immediately after the loss of their beloved queen and mistress." on the evening of sunday, july , garter king of arms arrived at fotheringay castle, with five other heralds and forty horsemen, to receive and escort the remains of mary stuart to peterborough cathedral, having brought with them a royal funereal car for that purpose, covered with black velvet, elaborately set forth with escutcheons of the arms of scotland, and little pennons round about it, drawn by four richly-caparisoned horses. the body, being enclosed in lead within an outer coffin, was reverently put into the car, and the heralds, having assumed their coats and tabards, brought the same forth from the castle, bare-headed, by torchlight, about ten o'clock at night, followed by all her sorrowful servants. the procession arrived at peterborough between one and two o'clock on the morning of july , and was received ceremoniously at the minster door by the bishop and clergy, where, in the presence of her faithful scotch attendants, she was laid in the vault prepared for her, without singing or saying--the grand ceremonial being appointed for august . the reason for depositing the royal body previously in the vault was, because it was too heavy to be carried in the procession, weighing, with the lead and outer coffin, nearly nine hundredweight. on monday, the st, arrived the ceremonial mourners from london, escorting the countess of bedford, who was to represent elizabeth in the mockery of acting as chief mourner to the poor victim. at eight in the morning of tuesday the solemnities commenced. first, the countess of bedford was escorted in state to the great hall of the bishop's palace, where a representation of mary's corpse lay on a royal bier. thence she was followed into the church by a great number of english peers, peeresses, knights, ladies, and gentlemen, in mourning. all mary's servants, both male and female, walked in the procession, according to their degree--among them her almoner, de préau, bearing a large silver cross. the representation of the corpse being received without the cathedral gate by the bishops and clergy, it was borne in solemn procession and set down within the royal hearse, which had been prepared for it, over the grave where the remains of the queen had been silently deposited by torchlight on the monday morning. the hearse was feet square, and feet high. on the coffin--which was covered with a pall of black velvet--lay a crown of gold, set with stones, resting on a purple velvet cushion, fringed and tasselled with gold. all the scotch queen's train--both men and women, with the exception of sir andrew melville and the two mowbrays, who were members of the reformed church--departed, and would not tarry for sermon or prayers. this greatly offended the english portion of the congregation, who called after them and wanted to force them to remain. after the prayer and a funeral service, every officer broke his staff over his head and threw the pieces into the vault upon the coffin. the procession returned in the same order to the bishop's palace, where mary's servants were invited to partake of the banquet which was provided for all the mourners; but they declined doing so, saying that "their hearts were too sad to feast." [illustration: fig. .--_shakespeare's tomb before the present restoration._] but let us turn aside from the pageants of kings and queens, and direct our attention for a few moments towards stratford-upon-avon, where, on april , , the greatest of all englishmen breathed his last. a vague tradition tells us that, being in the company of drayton and ben johnson, shakespeare partook too freely of the cup, and expired soon after. this may be a calumny; and, if it were not, it would not diminish our gratitude and reverence for the highest intellect our race has produced. it, however, leads us to think and hope, that at the modest funeral of the "great bard of avon" the illustrious ben johnson as well as drayton were present with his sorrowing relatives and fellow-citizens. his remains rest under the famous slab which bears the inscription due, it is said, to his own immortal pen: "good friend, for jesus' sake forbeare to digg t--e dust encloased here: blessed be t--e man t/y spares t--es stones, and curst be he t/y moves my bones." if his contemporaries have forgotten to give us details of that memorable funeral, and if for nearly two centuries his modest grave was almost neglected, ample reparation has been made to his memory in this enlightened age, and shakespeare's tomb has become a shrine visited by countless pilgrims from all parts of the earth; and a glorious monument, more beautiful than has been generally admitted, stands not far from the church, erected to shakespeare only last year by a nobleman, lord ronald gower, whose taste and culture would have done honour to the epoch which produced not shakespeare alone, but sydney and raleigh. [illustration: fig. .--_stratford-on-avon church._] if we could discover all the particulars respecting shakespeare's burial, we should possibly find that, being a "gentleman," he was wrapped in his coffin in "wool," for which privilege his survivors paid a tax of s. this curious habit, which we derived from our norman ancestors, endured until the first few years of this century. by "wool" we should read flannel. almost all the old parish registers in the country make a point of informing us that "the body" was buried in wool, and the "usual tax paid." the normans, and their descendants in normandy to this day, had some curious superstitions connected with "flannel," which even the industrious bibliophile jacob has failed to discover. this custom they introduced into england, and it lasted for hundreds of years. i believe the coffin was also frequently filled up with fine sheep's wool. another curious custom, which is now obsolete, was to put cloves, spikenard, fine herbs, and twigs of various aromatic shrubs into the coffin, in memory of the embalming of our lord. young girls and unmarried women were buried in white, and had their coffins covered with white flowers. all the people who accompanied the funeral wore white scarves, and before the reformation, white dresses, and the way was strewn with box leaves, grass, and flowers. the porch of the deceased's house was decked with flowers and garlands, and especially with dog-roses and daisies. [illustration: fig. .--_seal of an imaginary bull of pope lucifer._--from the _roi modus_, a ms. of the th century, royal library, brussels. the inscription is evidently cabalistic and unintelligible.] [illustration: fig. .--_the funeral of juliet_ ("romeo and juliet").--this charming engraving from knight's splendid edition of shakespeare gives a very fair idea of a grand funeral procession in the th century.] the funeral ceremonies of the french kings and princes of the blood during the middle ages and the period of the renaissance, were, as may well be imagined, exceedingly magnificent. as already related, the death criers announced the decease of the sovereign in the usual manner, shouting out, "_oyez! bonnes gens de paris_--listen, good people of paris: the most high and mighty, excellent and powerful king, our sovereign master, by the grace of god king of france, the most christian of princes, most clement and pious, died last night. pray for the repose of his soul." the first part of the ceremony took place at notre dame, where what is known as the lying-in-state was conducted with appropriate splendour. the procession, after a solemn mass, formed on the _pavis_, or square, round the cathedral, and began to move slowly over the bridge and through the marais to st. denis, some miles distant from paris. there was a halt, however, at the convent of st. lazaire (now covered by the railway station), and the gentlemen in attendance mounted their horses. before the revolution of ' , fifteen beautiful wayside crosses, or _montjoies_, as they were called, stood on the roadside between the porte st. denis and the abbey. at each of these prayers were said and the coffin rested. sometimes, as in the case of charles viii., the coffin and its waxen effigy were carried on the shoulders of a number of noblemen; but usually, since their feet were hidden by heavy black velvet draperies, very common men were charged with the "honourable burden." after the first half of the th century, the royal body was conducted to the grave in a chariot drawn sometimes by as many as four-and-twenty black horses. if i err not, the last king of france whose coffin was carried by men was francis i., whose gentlemen of the bedchamber performed this office, having each a halter round his neck, and a cord or rope. at st. denis the ceremonies were very imposing. high mass of requiem being over, the body was removed from the catafalque and lowered into the vaults under the altar. the grand almoner of france recited the _de profundis_, all kneeling. suddenly a voice, that of the herald-at-arms, was heard, crying out from the vault below, "kings-at-arms, come do your duty." the grand officers were now summoned by name, thus: "monsieur le duc de bourbon, bring your staff of command over the hundred archers of the guard, and break it and throw it into the grave." "monsieur le comte de lorges, bring your staff of office as commander of the scotch guard, and break it and throw it into the grave," and so forth, until some fifty of the grand dignitaries of the court had in turn performed this lengthy ceremony. the last time it occurred was in , on the occasion of the funeral of louis xviii., when each detail of the ancient ceremonial was punctually followed. every staff of office was broken and thrown into the king's grave, except the banner of france, which was merely inclined three times to the very edge of the crypt. at the conclusion of this rather tedious ceremony, everybody knelt down, and the herald shouted, "the king is dead; pray for his soul." a moment of silence ensued, which was eventually broken by a blast of trumpets. then the organ played a lively strain, and the herald proclaimed, "_le roi est mort, vive le roi_--long live the king!" the banners waved, the cannon boomed, the bells pealed forth joyously, and the procession reformed, whilst the officiating clergy sang the _te deum_. as almost all the kings and queens of france, with not more than half a dozen exceptions, from the time of clovis to that of louis xviii., were buried at st. denis, the funeral rites were rarely if ever altered. but with us, although so many of our most illustrious princes are interred at westminster, still not a few were buried at st. paul's; many at blackfriars and at greyfriars, two glorious churches destroyed in the th century, at windsor, and in various cathedrals; so that our royal funereal ceremonies were not always conducted with such punctual etiquette as were those of our neighbours. [decoration] the minute details of the funeral of mary stuart, at westminster abbey, prove that it was conducted on the same scale and with the same ceremonies as the one which preceded it by many years at peterborough. king james, her son, was present, and shortly afterwards the sumptuous monument which we still admire marked the place where her mutilated remains, translated from peterborough, found a permanent place of rest. the great changes in religion which occurred at the time of the reformation, although they took much longer to permeate the habits and customs of the people than is usually imagined, nevertheless were so radical, that of the ancient ritual little soon remained, and the beautiful funeral service of the church of england, which is so full of faith and hope, and mainly selected from passages of holy scripture adapted to the requirements of a religion which abolished belief in an intermediary state, and therefore in the necessity of prayers for the dead, was introduced, and little by little the pompous ceremonies of the roman church were forgotten. the lying-in-state of the corpse, for instance, which up to the close of the reign of mary was general, even with poor people, was now only in use among those of the very highest rank. the increase in the use of carriages, too, and of course the abolition of the monastic orders and brotherhoods, diminished the splendour of the street processions which used to follow the bier. still, much that was quaint remained in fashion, and it is only, as already said, a few years since that ladies ceased wearing a scarf and hood of black silk, and gentlemen "weepers" on their hats and arms, which were black or white according to the sex of the deceased. in norfolk, until the end of the first quarter of the present century, it was the custom to give the mourners at a funeral black gloves, scarves, and bunches of herbs. indeed, it is but a short time since a very old lady told me that so rich, broad, and beautiful was the silk of the scarves presented to each lady at a funeral, when she was a girl, that ladies were wont to keep the pieces by them until they were sufficient in number to form a dress. a bill of the funeral expenses of a very rich gentleman who died at brandon hall, in norfolk, early in this century,--mr. denn, of norwich,--and who left over half a million of money, enables us to form some idea of the expense to which our grandfathers of the upper class were put in order to be buried with what they considered proper respect. it would seem that in those days the hearse and funeral carriages had to be hired from london, and they took three days to perform the journey from the metropolis--a distance of about three hours by rail. no fewer than persons figure as accompanying these vehicles, and as they had to be put up at inns along the road, going both to and from london to brandon hall, their expenses were £ . the hire of horses and carriages was £ , and what with the distribution of loaves to the poor at the grave, and the expense of bringing relatives from far parts of the country, and of providing them with silk scarves, gloves, etc., and the housing and entertaining of them all, the worthy mr. denn's funeral cost his survivors not less than £ . [illustration: fig. .--_interment in a church in the first quarter of the th century._--from picard's great work on the religions of all nations.] in picard, there is a very beautiful engraving by schley, representing a funeral procession in , entering the church of st. paul's, covent garden. it occurs by night, and a number of pages in black velvet walk in it, carrying lighted three-branched silver candlesticks. it seems that until women in england only attended the funerals of their own sex, and that men in the same manner only followed men to the grave. possibly as a disinfectant against the plague, at all english funerals a branch of rosemary was handed to all who attended, which they threw into the open grave. this fashion endured, to the writer's knowledge, in norfolk up to . the french revolution cannot be described as an unmitigated blessing--far from it; but it certainly did away with many superstitious practices, and shed a flood of light upon civilisation. before that event it was the universal custom throughout europe to bury in churches, a practice which was most detrimental to health. by one of the earliest decrees passed by the convention of paris, , intramural interments were abolished, although, to be sure, cemeteries already existed of considerable extent, possibly suggested by those which for ages the mahometans have used in all the principal cities of asia and asiatic europe. that of père la chaise, so called after the confessor of madame de maintenon, who founded it, is one of the earliest. with the counter-reformation, as the movement is called in history, the ceremonial of the roman church became, on the continent, even more elaborate than heretofore, and nothing can be imagined more theatrically splendid than the church decorations on occasions of funerals of eminent personages. [illustration: fig. .--_the cemetery of père la chaise, paris._] [illustration: fig. .--_funeral of the grand duke albert vii., surnamed "the pious," archduke of austria, at brussels, th march, . the coffin, covered with a pall of cloth of gold, is carried under a canopy by the ambassador of his catholic majesty, by the duke d'aumale, the marquis of baden, and other great nobles, followed by the archbishop of patras and two cardinals. the horse of the deceased is seen led immediately behind, by grooms and officers of the household._--from the exceedingly rare work by francquart, printed at antwerp in . (from the collection of mr. richard davey, and engraved expressly for this publication.)] from the last half of the th century down to the revolution of , possibly the most extraordinary funeral recorded in history was that of the emperor charles v. it was celebrated with almost identical pomp simultaneously, at madrid and at brussels. the procession at brussels took six hours to pass any one point, and it is estimated that , persons walked in it, the participants being supplied from every city of belgium and holland. in this extraordinary function figured cars on floats, representing certain striking events in the life of the emperor, and one of these we reproduce, since it will best afford an idea of the supreme magnificence of the spectacle. it represents a ship, and is intended to illustrate the maritime progress made in the reign of this enterprising monarch. the float on which this clever model of a vessel of the period was arranged was dragged through the streets by black horses, covered with black velvet, and followed by representatives of the navies both of belgium and spain, and by some lads dressed as sailors of all nations. [illustration: fig. .--_float carried in the funeral procession of charles v. at brussels, december , , and intended to illustrate his maritime greatness. the vessel was the size of a real ship, and the persons who appear upon its deck were living._--from the "magnificent and sumptuous funeral of the very great emperor charles v." (antwerp, published by plantin, .) collection of m. ruggieri, paris.] we also reproduce a little sketch from the funeral procession of philip ii., son of charles v., which gives us an excellent idea of the costumes worn on such an important occasion. the large full-page engraving represents a portion of the funeral procession which took place at brussels, of the archduke albert vii. of austria, surnamed "the pious." it was almost as sumptuous as that of charles v., and, fortunately a complete record of it has been preserved by francovoart, who published a book in the following year, containing no less than plates illustrating this pageantic procession, which was of enormous length, and must have cost a great sum of money. the great engraver cochin has left us one of his most beautiful plates, representing the interior of the church of notre dame as arranged for the funeral of the infanta theresa of spain, dauphiness of france, in . it gives us rather the idea of a scene in a court ball-room than of a grave ceremony. literally, thousands of lights blazed in all directions, and there was nothing of a sombre character present, excepting the catafalque, which was of black velvet, and in a certain sense produced an admirable effect by showing off to still greater advantage the illuminations. the funeral of louis xiv., was fabulously gorgeous, and so complete an apotheosis of that vain monarch, it brought about a sort of reaction, and made most persons observe that it was of little use praying for the soul of one who evidently must already be in glory. in order to put some bounds to these extravagant services, many people of a devout character have in all ages prayed in their wills that they should be carried to the grave in the simplest manner, sometimes in the habit of a franciscan, or mendicant friar, and that only a few pounds should be expended upon their burial. [illustration: fig. .--_costumes worn by king philip ii. of spain and his attendants in the funeral procession of his father, charles v. the group consists of the king; the herald of spain, of the order of the golden fleece, who walks in front; of the duke of brunswick, the duke of arcos, don ruy gomez, count of milito, and finally the duke emmanuel philibert of savoy. mark that the hood was only worn by the heirs of the deceased._--from the "sumptuous funeral of charles v. at brussels." (antwerp, .) collection of m. ruggieri, paris.] the italians, and especially the venetians, spent enormous sums upon their funeral services, which were exceedingly picturesque; but as the members of the brotherhoods who walked in the procession wore pointed hoods and masks, so that, by the glare of the torches, only their eyes could be seen glittering, and as it was the custom, also, for the funeral to take place at night, the body being exposed upon an open bier, in full dress, the scene was sufficiently weird to attract the attention of travellers, perhaps more so than anything else which they saw in the land _par excellence_ of pageant. horace mann, in one of his letters, thus amusingly describes the funeral of the daughter of cosmo iii., grand duke of tuscany:-- [illustration: fig. .--_funeral of the infanta theresa of spain, dauphiness of france, at notre dame, ._--from the original engraving of cochin.] "there was nothing extraordinary in the funeral last night. all the magnificence consisted in a prodigious number of torches carried by the different orders of priests, the expense of which in lights, they say, amounted to , crowns. the body was in a sort of a coach quite open, with a canopy over her head; two other coaches followed with her ladies. as soon as the procession was passed by madame suares's, i went a back way to st. laurence, where i had been invited by the master of the ceremonies; here was nothing very particular but my being placed next to lady walpole, who is so angry with me that she would not even give me the opportunity of making her a bow, which for the future, since i see it will be disagreeable to her, i will never offer to do again." [decoration] nothing could be imagined more picturesque than a venetian funeral in bygone days. the state gondola of the family, containing the body, and also the attendant priests and friars, was covered with black velvet, and blazed with candelabra full of lighted candles; and from the stern of the boat hung an immense train of black velvet, which was permitted to touch the water, but prevented from sinking underneath it by golden tassels, which were held by members of the family in the gondolas which followed close behind. all those persons who took part in the funeral of course carried lights in their hands. if the individual happened to belong to one of the numerous confraternities, or _scuole_, which existed in venice up to the end of the last century, a grand musical mass was celebrated in the chapel belonging to the order; and on these occasions some of the finest music ever composed was heard for the first time, such, for instance, as paesiello's requiem, an infinitely beautiful one by marcello, and the majestic mass for four voices, by lotti. [illustration: fig. .--_tomb of hamlet._] [illustration: fig. .--_death devouring man and beast. a singular, illuminated document on parchment, of the th century, measuring over fifty feet by one yard wide. the figure above is intended to represent the letter t._--from the mortuary roll of the abbey of savingy, avranches, france. the original is preserved among the french national archives.] the funeral of a pope is attended by many curious ceremonies, not the least remarkable of which is, that so soon as his holiness' death is thoroughly assured, the eldest cardinal goes up to the body, and strikes it three times gently on the breast, saying in latin, as he does so, "the holy father has passed away." the body is then lowered into the church of st. peter's, where it is exhibited--as was the case when pope pius ix. died in ' --for three days to the veneration of the faithful, after which it is conveyed in great state to the church which the pope has selected for his burial-place. as it passed along the streets of rome in the good old times, the members of the nobility assembled at the entrance of their houses, each carrying a lighted taper in his hand, and answering back the prayers of the friars and clergy in the procession. it will be remembered that it was this sort of spontaneous illumination which so offended a rabble of freethinkers, on the occasion of the funeral of the late pope, that they stoned the coffin, and created a riot of a most disgraceful character. after the pope is buried, it is usual for his successor or his family to build a stately monument over his remains, and this custom accounts for the amazing number of fine papal monuments in the roman basilicas and churches. [illustration: fig. .--_lying-in-state of pope pius ix._] at a time when everybody is talking about the stuart dynasty, owing to the great success of the recent exhibition of their relics ( - ), the following curious account of the interment of the old pretender will prove of interest:-- "on the th of january, , the body of his 'britannic majesty' was conveyed in great state to the said church of the twelve apostles," says a correspondent from rome of that date, "preceded by four servants carrying torches, two detachments of soldiers; and by the side of the bier walked twenty-four grooms of the stable with wax candles; the body of the deceased was dressed royally, and borne by nobles of his household, with an ivory sceptre at its side, and the orders of ss. george and andrew on the breast. "on the th, the first funeral service took place, in the church of the twelve apostles. the _façade_ of the church was hung with black cloth, lace, and golden fringe, in the centre of which was a medallion, supported by skeletons with cypress branches in their hands, and bearing the following inscription: 'clemens xiii. pont. max. jacobo iii. m. britanniæ, franciæ, et hiberniæ regi. catholicæ fidei defensori, omnium urbis ordinum frequentia funere honestato. suprema pietatis officia solemni ritu persolvit.' "on entering the church, another great inscription to the same purport was to be seen; the building inside was draped in the deepest black, and on the bier, covered with cloth of gold, lay the corpse, before which was written in large letters: 'jacobus iii. magnæ britanniæ rex. anno mdcclxvi.' "on either side stood four silver skeletons on pedestals, draped in black cloth, and holding large branch candlesticks, each with three lights. at either corner stood a golden perfume box, decorated with death's-heads, leaves and festoons of cypress. the steps to the bier were painted in imitation marble, and had pictures upon them representing the virtues of the deceased. over the whole was a canopy ornamented with crowns, banners, death's-heads, gilded lilies, etc.; and behind, a great cloth of peacock colour with golden embroidery, and ermine upon it, hung down to the ground. over each of the heavily draped arches down the nave of the church were medallions with death's-head supporters, and crowns above them, representing the various british orders and the three kingdoms of england, ireland, and scotland; and on the pilasters were other medallions, supported by cherubs, expressing virtues attributed to the deceased, each with an inscription, of which the following is an instance: 'rex jacobus iii. vere dignus imperio, quia natus ad imperandum: dignus quia ipso regnante virtutes imperassent: dignissimus quia sibi imperavit.' "on the top of the bier, in the nave, lay the body, dressed in royal garb of gold brocade, with a mantle of crimson velvet, lined and edged with ermine, a crown on his head, a sceptre in his right hand, an orb in his left. the two orders of ss. george and andrew were fastened to his breast. [illustration: fig. .--_funeral of his late holiness pope pius ix., feb._ , . _the lowering of the body into st. peter's._] "pope clement regretted his inability to attend the funeral, owing to the coldness of the morning, but he sent twenty-two cardinals to sing mass, besides numerous church dignitaries. "after the celebration of the mass, monsignor orazio matteo recited a funeral oration of great length, recapitulating the virtues of the deceased, and the incidents of the life of exile and privation that he had led. after which, the customary _requiem_ for the soul of the departed was sung, and they then proceeded to convey his deceased majesty's body to the basilica of st. peter. "the procession which accompanied it was one of those gorgeous spectacles in which the popes and their cardinals loved to indulge. every citizen came to see it, and crowds poured in to the eternal city from the neighbouring towns and villages, as they were wont to do for the festivals at easter, of corpus domini. "all the orders and confraternities to be found in rome went in front, carrying amongst them torches. they marched in rows, four deep; and after them came the pupils of the english, scotch, and irish college in rome, in their surplices, and with more torches. "then followed the bier, around which were the gaudy swiss papal guards. the four corners of the pall were held up by four of the most distinguished members of the stuart household. "then came singers, porters carrying two large umbrellas, such as the pope would have at his coronation, and all the servants of the royal household, in deep mourning, and on foot. after them followed the papal household; and twelve mourning coaches closed the procession. "the body was placed in the chapel of the choir of st. peter's, and after the absolution, which monsignor lascaris pronounced, it was put into a cypress-wood case, in presence of the major-domo of the vatican, who made a formal consignment of it to the chapter of st. peter's, in the presence of the notary of the 'sacred apostolic palace,' who witnessed the consignment, whilst the notary of the chapter of st. peter's gave him a formal receipt. "the second funeral was fixed for the following day, when everything was done to make the choir of st. peter's look gorgeous. a large catafalque was raised in the midst, on the top of which, on a cushion of black velvet embroidered with gold, lay the royal crown and sceptre, under a canopy adorned with ermine; candles burnt around, and the inscription over the catafalque ran as follows: 'memoriæ æternæ jacobi iii., magnæ britanniæ franciæ et hyber, regis parentis optimii henricus card. dux eboracensis moerens justa persolvit.' "then the cardinals held service, thirteen of whom were then assembled; after which, the chapter of st. peter's and the vatican clergy, with all the court of the defunct king who had assisted at the mass, accompanied the body to the subterranean vaults beneath st. peter's, where the bier was laid aside until such times and seasons as a fitting memorial could be placed over it." among the jews, according to buxtorf (who published, in the th century, perhaps the most valuable work upon the jewish ceremonies which still existed in various parts of europe in his time, many of which have been modified or have entirely disappeared since), it was the fashion when a person died, after having closed the eyes and mouth, to twist the thumb of the right hand inward, and to tie it with a string of the _taled_, or veil, which covered the face, and was invariably buried with the corpse. the reason for this doubling of the thumb was that, when it was thus turned inward, it represented the figure schaddai, which is one of the names of god. otherwise, the fingers were stretched out so as to show that the deceased had given up all the goods of this world. the body was most carefully washed, to indicate that the dead was purified by repentance. buxtorf tells us that in holland, with the old-fashioned jews, it was the custom to break an egg into a glass of wine, and to wash the face therewith. the more devout persons were dressed in the same garments that they wore on the last feast of the passover. when the body is placed in the coffin, it is the habit even now, among the polish and oriental jews, for ten members of the family, or very old friends, to walk processionally round it, saying prayers for the repose of the soul. in olden times, for three days after the death, the family sat at home in a darkened room and received their friends, who were indeed job's comforters; for they sought to afflict them in every way by recalling the virtues of the dead person, and exaggerating the misery into which they were thrown by his or her departure. seven days afterwards, they were employed in a less rigorous form of mourning, at the end of which the family again went to the synagogue and offered up prayers, after which they followed the customs of the country in which they lived, retaining their mourning only so long as accorded with the prevailing fashion of the day. [decoration] [illustration: fig. .--_the knight of death on a white horse_--after albert durer. from a fac-simile of the original engraving, dated , by one of the wiericx ( ). this famous engraving, which so perfectly characterises the weird genius of the middle ages, passing into the renaissance, represents a knight armed, going to the wars, accompanied by terrible thoughts of death and sin, whose incarnations follow him on his dismal journey.] one of the saddest, and certainly the simplest of royal funerals, was that of king charles i. after his lamentable execution, his body lay at whitehall from january , , to the following february , when it was conveyed to windsor, placed in the vault of st. george's chapel, near the coffins of henry viii. and jane seymour. the day had been very snowy, and the snow rested thick on the coffin and on the cloaks and hats of the mourners. the remains were deposited without any service whatever, and left inscriptionless, save for the words "charles rex, ," the letters of which were cut out of a band of lead by the gentlemen present, with their penknives, and the lead fastened round the coffin. in this state it remained until the year , when george iv. caused it to be more fittingly interred. in striking contrast were the obsequies of the unfortunate king's great rival and enemy, cromwell, "who lay in glorious state" at somerset house, all the ceremonial being copied from that of the interment of philip ii. of spain. the rooms were hung with black cloth, and in the principal saloon was an effigy of the protector, with a royal crown upon his head and a sceptre in his hand, stretched upon a bed of state erected over his coffin. crowds of people of all ranks went daily during eight weeks to see it, the place being illuminated by hundreds of candles. the wax cast of the face of cromwell after death is still preserved in the british museum. his body, however, was carried away secretly, and at night, and buried privately at westminster, for fear of trouble. later, in , the remains of the great protector, and those of his friends ireton and bradshaw, were sacrilegiously taken from their graves, dragged with ignominy through the streets, and hanged at tyburn, to the apparent satisfaction of mrs. pepys and her friend lady batten, and all and sundry in london, as is recorded in the "immortal diary." by the way, mr. pepys himself, who died in , was buried with much state and circumstance in crutched friars church, but at night, the service being said by dr. hickes, the author of the _thesaurus_. [decoration] perhaps the strangest funeral recorded in modern history was that of the translation of the remains of voltaire, popularly known as his "apotheosis." the national assembly in may, , decreed that the bones of the poet should be brought from the abbey of scellières, and carried in state to the pantheon. in voltaire's lifetime it was boasted that he had buried the priests and the christian religion, but now the priests were going to bury him, having very little of christian religion left amongst them. the day of the procession was fixed for july ; but the th was a deluging, rainy day, and the ceremony was postponed to the next day, or till the weather should be fine. the next day was as wet, and the assembly was about to renew the postponement, when about two o'clock it cleared up. the coffin was placed on a car of the classic form, and was borne first to the spot on which the bastille had stood, where it was placed on a platform, being covered with myrtles, roses, and wild flowers, and bearing the following inscriptions:--"if a man is born free, he ought to govern himself." "if a man has tyrants placed over him, he ought to dethrone them." besides these, there were numerous other inscriptions in different parts of the area, including one on a huge block of stone: "receive, o voltaire! on this spot, where despotism once held thee in chains, the honours thy country renders thee!" from the bastille to the pantheon all paris seemed to be following the procession, which consisted of soldiers, lawyers, doctors, municipal bodies, a crowd of poets, literary men, and artists carrying a gilded chest containing the seventy volumes of voltaire's works; men who had taken part in the demolition of the bastille, bearing chains, fetters, and cuirasses found in the prison; a bust of voltaire, surrounded by those of rousseau, mirabeau, and montaigne, borne by the actors from the different theatres, in ancient costume; and lastly came the funeral car, now surmounted by a statue of the philosopher, which france was crowning with a wreath of immortelles. the immense procession halted at various places for the effigy to receive particular honours. at the opera houses the actors and actresses were waiting to present a laurel crown and to sing to voltaire's glory; at the house of m. villette--where was yet deposited the heart of the great man, previous to being sent to fernay--four tall poplars were planted, and adorned with wreaths and festoons of flowers, and on the front of the house was written in large letters: "his genius is everywhere, and his heart is here." near this was raised a sort of amphitheatre, on which were seated a crowd of young girls in white dresses with blue sashes, crowned with roses, and holding wreaths in honour of the poet in their hands. the names of all voltaire's works were written on the front of the theatre français. the next halt was made on the site of the comédie française, and a statue of the poet was there crowned by actors costumed as tragedy and comedy. thence the procession wended its way to the pantheon, where the mouldering remains of voltaire were placed beside those of descartes and mirabeau. all paris that evening was one festal scene; illuminations blazing on the busts and figures of the patriot of equality. [illustration: fig. .--_funeral car of nelson._--from a contemporary engraving, reproduced expressly for this publication.] the obsequies in england of lord nelson, which took place on january , , were extremely imposing. i transcribe from a contemporary and inedited private letter the following account of it:--"i have just returned from such a sight as will never be seen in london again. i managed at an inconveniently early hour to get me down into the strand, and so down norfolk street to a house overlooking the river. every post of vantage wherever the procession could be seen was swarming with living beings, all wearing mourning, the very beggars having a bit of crape on their arms. the third barge, which contained the body, was covered with black velvet and adorned with black feathers. in the centre was a viscount's coronet, and three bannerols were affixed to the outside of the barge. in the steerage were six lieutenants of the navy and six trumpets. clarencieux, king-at-arms, sat at the head of the coffin, bearing a viscount's coronet on a black velvet cushion. the royal standard was at the head of the barge, which was rowed by forty-six seamen from the 'victory.' the other barges in the cortege were rowed by greenwich pensioners. the fourth barge contained admiral sir peter parker, the chief mourner, and other admirals, vice-admirals, and rear-admirals; whilst the lords of the admiralty, the lord mayor of london, members of the various worshipful companies, and other distinguished mourners occupied the remaining barges, which were seventeen in number, and were flanked by row-boats, with river fencibles, harbour marines, etc., etc. all, of course, had their colours half-mast high. on the following morning, the th, the land procession, which i also contrived to see, started from the admiralty to pass through the streets of london to st. paul's, between dense crowds all along the route. this procession was of great length, and included greenwich pensioners, sailors of the 'victory,' watermen, judges and other dignitaries of the law, many members of the nobility, public officers, and officers of the army and navy; whilst in it were carried conspicuously the great banner, gauntlets, helmet, sword, etc., of the deceased. the pall was supported by four admirals. nearly , military were assembled on this occasion, and these consisted chiefly of the regiments that had fought in egypt, and participated with the deceased in delivering that country from the power of france. the car in which the body was conveyed was peculiarly magnificent. it was decorated with a carved resemblance of the head and stern of the 'victory,' surrounded with escutcheons of the arms of the deceased, and adorned with appropriate mottoes and emblematical devices, under an elevated canopy, in the form of the upper part of a sarcophagus, with six sable plumes, and a viscount's coronet in the centre, supported by four columns, representing palm trees, entwined with wreaths of natural laurel and cypress. as it passed, all uncovered, and many wept. i heard a great deal said among the people about 'poor emma' (emma, lady hamilton), and some wonder whether she will get a pension or not. on the whole, the processions were most imposing, and i am very glad i saw it all, although i am much fatigued at it, from standing about so much and pushing in the crowd, and faint from the difficulty of getting food, every eating-place being so full of people; and surely, though a nation must mourn, equally certain is it that it must also eat." [illustration: fig. .--_funeral car of lord nelson._--from a contemporary engraving, reproduced expressly for this publication.] [illustration: fig. .--_an old market cross, rouen._] [illustration: fig. .--_funeral procession of the emperor napoleon i., december_ , . _the cortége descending the champs Élysées._--from a contemporary engraving.] louis phillippe, who, by the way, had neglected no opportunity to render justice to the genius of napoleon, obtained, in , the permission of the british government to remove his body from st. helena; and on december it was solemnly interred in the gorgeous chapel designed by visconti, at the invalides. the prince de joinville had the honour of escorting the remains of the emperor from the lonely island in the indian ocean to paris. words cannot paint the emotion of the inhabitants of the french capital, as the superb procession descended the long avenue of the champs Élysées, or that of the privileged company which witnessed the striking scene in the chapel itself, as the prince de joinville formally consigned the body to the king, his father, saying, as he did so, "sire, i deliver over into your charge the corpse of napoleon." to which the king replied, "i receive it in the name of france," and then taking the sword of the victor of austerlitz, he handed it to general bertrand, who, in his turn, laid it on the coffin. many years later, when another napoleon reigned in france, a lady who had not yet reached the _mezzo camin di nostra vita_, stood silently, with bowed head, before the grave of the mighty enemy of the glorious empire over which she rules, and it was observed that there were tears in the eyes of queen victoria when she quietly left the chapel. [illustration: fig. .--_the tomb of napoleon i. at the invalides, paris._] the earliest year of the last half of this century witnessed another funeral of much magnificence, that of the great duke of wellington. it was determined that a public funeral should mark the sense of the people's reverence for the memory of the illustrious deceased, and of their grief for his loss. the body was enclosed in a shell, and remained for a time at walmer castle, where the iron duke died. a guard of honour, composed of men of his own rifle regiment, did duty over it, and the castle flag was hoisted daily half-mast high. on the evening of the th of november, , the body was placed upon a hearse and conveyed, by torchlight, to the railway station, the batteries at walmer and deal castles firing minute-guns, whilst sandown castle took up the melancholy salute as the train with its burden swept by. arrived at london, the procession re-formed, and by torchlight marched through the silent streets, reaching chelsea about three o'clock in the morning, when the coffin containing the body was carried into the hall of the royal military hospital. life guardsmen, with arms reversed, lined the apartment, which was hung with black and lighted by waxen tapers. the coffin rested upon an elevated platform at the end of the hall, over which was suspended a cloud-like canopy or veil. the coffin itself was covered with red velvet; and at the foot stood a table on which all the decorations of the deceased were laid out. thither, day by day, in a constant stream, crowds of men, women, and children repaired, all dressed in deep mourning. the first of these visitors was the queen, accompanied by her children; but so deeply was she affected that she never got beyond the centre of the hall, where her feelings quite overcame her, and she was led, weeping bitterly, back to her carriage. the public funeral took place on the th of november, and was attended by the prince consort and all the chief officers of state. the body was removed by torchlight, on the evening previous, to the horse guards, under an escort of cavalry. at dawn on the th the solemn ceremony began. from st. paul's cathedral, down fleet street, along the strand, by charing cross and pall mall, to st. james's park, troops lined both sides of the streets; while in the park itself, columns of infantry, cavalry, and artillery were formed ready to fall into their proper places in the procession, of which we publish two interesting engravings. how it was conducted--with what respectful interest watched by high and low--how solemn the notes of the bands, as one after another they took up and entoned the "dead march in saul"--how grand, yet how touching the scene in the interior of st. paul's--none but those who can remember it can realise. [illustration: fig. .--_funeral of the duke of wellington, november_ , . _the procession passing apsley house._--from an original sketch, reproduced expressly for this publication.] [illustration: fig. .--_funeral of the duke of wellington, november_ , . _scene inside st. paul's._--reproduced from an original sketch, expressly for this publication.] a man of genius in france is rightly placed on a kind of throne, and considered a "king of thought;" so the obsequies of so truly illustrious a poet as victor hugo, which took place in paris, june , , assumed proportions rarely accorded even to the mightiest sovereigns. unfortunately, it was marred by the desecration of a noted church, the pantheon; for it pleased a political party in power to make out that hugo had denied even the existence of god, and this notwithstanding the fact that every page of his works is a testimony to his ardent creed in the almighty and his hope in the life to come. the lying-in-state took place under the arch of triumph, which was decorated with much taste by a huge black veil draped across it. flaring torches lighted up the architectural features of the monument, and also the tremendous throng of spectators. the arch looked solemn enough, but the behaviour of the people who surrounded it was the reverse, especially at night. on thursday, june , early in the day, which was intensely hot, the procession began to move from the arc de triomphe to the pantheon, and presented a scene never to be forgotten. the coffin was a very simple one, in accordance with the poet's wishes to be buried like a pauper; but what proved the chief charm of this really poetical spectacle was the amazing number of huge wreaths carried by the countless deputations from all parts of france, and sent from every city of europe and america. there were some , wreaths of foliage and flowers carried in this strange procession, many of which were of colossal dimensions, so that when one beheld the cortége from the bottom of the champs Élysées, for instance, it looked like a huge floral snake meandering along. the bearers of the wreaths were hidden beneath them, and these exquisite trophies of early summer flowers, combined with the glittering helmets of the guards, the bright costumes of the students, and, above all, with the veritable walls of human beings towering up on all sides, filling balconies and windows, covering roofs and every spot wherever even a glimpse of the pageant could be obtained, created a spectacle as unique as it was picturesque. [decoration] [illustration: fig. .--_funeral of victor hugo, paris, june_ , .] [illustration: fig. .--_her imperial majesty the empress frederick of germany, princess royal of great britain._] the solemn but exceedingly simple obsequies of that much regretted and most able man his royal highness the prince consort, took place at windsor on the rd december, . at his frequently expressed desire it was of a private character; but all the chief men of the state attended the obsequies in the royal chapel. the weather was cold and damp, the sky dull and heavy. there was a procession of state carriages to st. george's chapel, at the door of which the prince of wales and the other royal mourners were assembled to receive the corpse. the grief of the poor children was very affecting, little prince arthur especially, sobbing as if his heart were breaking. when all was over, and the last of the long, lingering train of mourners had departed, the attendants descended into the vault with lights, and moved the bier and coffin along the narrow passage to the royal vault. the day was observed throughout the realm as one of mourning. the bells of all the churches were tolled, and in many of them special services were held. in the towns the shops were closed, and the window blinds of private residences were drawn down. no respectable people appeared abroad except in mourning, and in seaport towns the flags were hoisted half-mast high. the words of the poet laureate were scarcely too strong: "the shadow of his loss moved like eclipse, darkening the world. we have lost him; he is gone; we know him now; all narrow jealousies are silent; and we see him as he moved, how modest, kindly, all-accomplished, wise; with what sublime repression of himself, and in what limits, and how tenderly; not swaying to this faction or to that; not making his high place the lawless perch of wing'd ambitions, nor a vantage ground for pleasure; but thro' all this tract of years wearing the white flower of a blameless life, before a thousand peering littlenesses, in that fierce light which beats upon a throne, and blackens every blot; for where is he who dares foreshadow for an only son a lovelier life, a more unstained than his?" [illustration: fig. .--_funeral of his royal highness the prince consort, at windsor, december_ , .] when her majesty became a widow, she slightly modified the conventional english widow's cap, by indenting it over the forehead _à la_ marie stuart, thereby imparting to it a certain picturesqueness which was quite lacking in the former head-dress. this coiffure has been not only adopted by her subjects, but also by royal widows abroad. the etiquette of the imperial house of germany obliges the empress frederick to introduce into her costume two special features during the earlier twelve months of her widowhood. the first concerns the cap, which is black, having a marie stuart point over the centre of the forehead, and a long veil of black crape falling like a mantle behind to the ground. the second peculiarity of this stately costume is that the orthodox white batiste collar has two narrow white bands falling straight from head to foot. this costume has been very slightly modified from what it was three centuries ago, when a princess of the house of hohenzollern lost her husband. [decoration] [illustration: fig. .--her most gracious majesty the queen. _from a photograph by messrs. w. & d. downey._] the first general mourning ever proclaimed in america was on the occasion of the death of benjamin franklin, in , and the next on that of washington, in . the deep and wide-spread grief occasioned by the melancholy death of the first president, assembled a great concourse of people for the purpose of paying him the last tribute of respect, and on wednesday, december , , attended by military honours and the simplest but grandest ceremonies of religion, his body was deposited in the family vault at mount vernon. never in the history of america did a blow fall with more terrible earnestness than the news of the assassination of president lincoln on april , . all party feeling was forgotten, and sorrow was universal. the obsequies were on an exceedingly elaborate scale, and a generous people paid a grateful and sincere tribute to a humane and patriotic chieftain. after an impressive service, the embalmed body was laid in state in the capitol at washington, guarded by officers with drawn swords, and afterwards the coffin was closed for removal to springfield, the home of the late president, a distance of about , miles. it took twelve days to accomplish the journey. the car which conveyed the remains was completely draped in black, the mourning outside being festooned in two rows above and below the windows, while each window had a strip of mourning connecting the upper with the lower row. six other cars, all draped in black, were attached to the train, and contained the escort, whilst the engine was covered with crape and its flags draped. at several cities _en route_ a halt was made, in order to permit people to pay tributes of respect to the deceased, and several times the body was removed from the train, so that funeral services might be held. at last, on the rd of may, the train reached springfield, and after a brief delay the procession moved with befitting ceremony to oak ridge cemetery, president lincoln's final resting-place. during the period intervening between president lincoln's death and his interment, every city and town in the united states testified the greatest grief, and public expressions of mourning were universal. to take new york, as an instance, that city presented a singularly striking appearance. scarce a house in it but was not draped in the deepest mourning, long festoons of black and white muslin drooped sadly everywhere, and even the gay show-cases outside the shop doors were dressed with funereal rosettes. the gloom which prevailed was intense. in many places, however, the decorations, though sombre, were exceedingly picturesque, the dark tones being relieved by the bright red and blue of the national colours, entwined with crape. scarcely less magnificent were the obsequies accorded by the people of america to general grant. funeral services were observed in towns and cities of every state and territory of the union, amidst a display of mourning emblems unparallelled. in new york, for two weeks previous to the funeral ceremony, preparations of the most elaborate description were going on, and the best part of the city was densely draped. the route of the procession to the tomb was miles long, and it is estimated that three million persons saw the cortege, in which over , people joined, including , soldiers. some further idea of the magnitude of this solemn procession can be formed when it is stated that its head reached the grave three hours and a half before the funeral car arrived. this car was exceptionally imposing, inasmuch as it was drawn by black horses, each one led by a coloured servant, and each covered with sable trappings which swept the street. another imposing funeral, which many who are still young can remember, was that of his majesty victor emmanuel, the first king of united italy, who died in rome early in . his obsequies were conducted with all the pomp of the roman catholic religion, and the catafalque, erected in the centre of the pantheon, was supremely imposing. we give an engraving of it, which will afford an excellent idea of its great magnificence. [decoration] [illustration: fig. .--_the catafalque erected for the funeral service of his majesty king victor emmanuel, in the pantheon, rome._] the ingenious idea of the _magasin de deuil_, or establishment exclusively devoted to the sale of mourning costumes and of the paraphernalia necessary for a funeral, has long been held to be exclusively french; but our quick-witted neighbours have, to speak the truth, originated very few things; for was not the father of french cookery a german physician in attendance on francis i., assisted by an italian cardinal, campeggio, who, by the way, came to england on the occasion of the negotiations in connection with the divorce of queen catherine of arragon. the _magasin de deuil_ is but a brilliant and elaborate adaptation of the old _mercerie de lutto_ which has existed for centuries, and still exists, in every italian city, where people in the haste of grief can obtain in a few hours all that the etiquette of civilisation requires for mourning in a country whose climate renders speedy interment absolutely necessary. continental ideas are slow to reach this country, but when they do find acceptance with us, they rarely fail to attain that vast extension so characteristic of english commerce. such development could scarcely be exhibited in a more marked manner than in jay's london general mourning warehouse, regent street, an establishment which dates from the year , and which during that period has never ceased to increase its resources and to complete its organisation, until it has become, of its kind, a mart unique both for the quality and the nature of its attributes. of late years the business and enterprise of this firm has enormously increased, and it includes not only all that is necessary for mourning, but also departments devoted to dresses of a more general description, although the colours are confined to such as could be worn for either full or half mourning. black silks, however, are pre-eminently a speciality of this house, and the continental journals frequently announce that "_la maison jay de londres a fait de forts achats_." their system is one from which they never swerve. it is to buy the commodity direct from the manufacturers, and to supply it to their patrons at the very smallest modicum of profit compatible with the legitimate course of trade. the materials for mourning costumes must always virtually, remain unchangeable, and few additions can be made to the list of silks, crapes, paramattas, cashmeres, _grenadines_, and _tulles_ as fabrics. they and their modifications must be ever in fashion so long as it continues fashionable to wear mourning at all; but fashion in design, construction, and embellishment may be said to change, not only every month, but well-nigh every week. the fame of a great house of business like this rests more upon its integrity and the expedition with which commands are executed than anything else. to secure the very best goods, and to have them made up in the best taste and in the latest fashion, is one of the principal aims of the firm, which is not unmindful of legitimate economy. for this purpose, every season competent buyers visit the principal silk marts of europe, such as lyons, genoa, and milan, for the purpose of purchasing all that is best in quality and pattern. immediate communication with the leading designers of fashions in paris has not been neglected; and it may be safely said of this great house of business, that if it is modelled on a mediæval italian principle, it has missed no opportunity to assimilate to itself every modern improvement. [illustration: fig. .--_funeral of earl palmerston, in westminster abbey, oct._ , .] private mourning in modern times, like everything else, has been greatly altered and modified, to suit an age of rapid transit and travel. men no longer make a point of wearing full black for a fixed number of months after the decease of a near relation, and even content themselves with a black hat-band and dark-coloured garments. funeral ceremonies, too, are less elaborate, although during the past few years a growing tendency to send flowers to the grave has increased in every class of the community. the ceremonial which attends our state funerals is so well known that it were needless to describe them. we, however, give, as "records," illustrations of the funerals of lord palmerston, lord beaconsfield, mr. darwin, and of the much-regretted emperor frederick of germany, a function which was extremely imposing, as the etiquette of the german court still retains many curious relics of bygone times. [illustration: fig. .--_funeral of the right honourable the earl of beaconsfield, in hughenden church, april_ , .] general court mourning in this country is regulated by the duke of norfolk, as earl marshal, but exclusively court mourning for the royal family by the lord chamberlain. the order for court mourning to be observed for the death of a foreign sovereign is issued by the foreign office, and transmitted thence to the lord chamberlain. here is the form of the order for general mourning to be worn on the occasion of the death of the prince consort: college of arms, dec. , . _deputy earl marshal's order for a general mourning for his late royal highness the prince consort._ in pursuance of her majesty's commands, this is to give public notice that, upon the melancholy occasion of the death of his royal highness the prince consort, it is expected that all persons do forthwith put themselves into decent mourning. edward c. f. howard, d.e.m. the order to the army is published from the war office: horse guards, dec. , . _orders for the mourning of the army for his late royal highness the prince consort._ the general commanding-in-chief has received her majesty's commands to direct, on the present melancholy occasion of the death of h.r.h. the prince consort, that the officers of the army be required to wear, when in uniform, black crape over the ornamental part of the cap or hat, over the sword-knot, and on the left arm;--with black gloves, and a black crape scarf over the sash. the drums are to be covered with black, and black crape is to hang from the head of the colour-staff of the infantry, and from the standard-staff of cavalry. when officers appear at court in uniform, they are to wear black crape over the ornamental part of the cap or hat, over the sword-knot, and on the left arm;--with black gloves and a black crape scarf. a like order was issued by the admiralty, addressed to the officers and men of the royal navy. first notice. lord chamberlain's office, december , . _orders for the court to go into mourning for his late royal highness the prince consort._ the ladies attending court to wear black woollen stuffs, trimmed with crape, plain linen, black shoes and gloves, and crape fans. the gentlemen attending court to wear black cloth, plain linen, crape hatbands, and black swords and buckles. the mourning to commence from the date of this order. second notice. lord chamberlain's office, december , . _orders for the court's change of mourning, on monday, the th january next, for his late royal highness the prince consort, viz._: the ladies to wear black silk dresses, trimmed with crape, and black shoes and gloves, black fans, feathers, and ornaments. the gentlemen to wear black court dress, with black swords and buckles, and plain linen. _the court further to change the mourning on monday the th of february next, viz._: the ladies to wear black dresses, with white gloves, black or white shoes, fans, and feathers, and pearls, diamonds, or plain gold or silver ornaments. the gentlemen to wear black court dress, with black swords and buckles. _and on monday the th of march next, the court to go out of mourning._ * * * * * first notice. lord chamberlain's office, november , . _orders for the court's going into mourning on sunday next, the th instant, for her late royal highness the princess charlotte augusta, daughter of his royal highness the prince regent, and consort of his serene highness the prince leopold saxe-cobourg, viz._: the ladies to wear black bombazines, plain muslin, or long lawn crape hoods, shamoy shoes and gloves, and crape fans. undress:--dark norwich crape. the gentlemen to wear black cloth without buttons on the sleeves or pockets, plain muslin, or long lawn cravats and weepers, shamoy shoes and gloves, crape hatbands and black swords and buckles. undress:--dark grey frocks. for ladies, black silk, fringed or plain linen, white gloves, black shoes, fans, and tippets, white necklaces and earrings. undress:--white or grey lustrings, tabbies, or damasks. for gentlemen, to continue in black, full trimmed, fringed or plain linen, black swords and buckles. undress:--grey coats. for ladies, black silk or velvet coloured ribbons, fans, and tippets, or plain white, or white and gold, or white and silver stuffs, with black ribbons. for gentlemen, black coats and black or plain white, or white and gold, or white and silver stuffed waistcoats, coloured waistcoats and buckles. [illustration: fig. .--_funeral of charles darwin, esq., in westminster abbey._] the register of "notices" preserved at the lord chamberlain's offices date back from to . they are written in chronological order from the first folio ( th march, ) to folio ( th nov., ). after this date a number of papers are missing, and, curious to relate, the next entry is oct. , , and orders the court to go into mourning for ten days for her late majesty marie antoinette, queen of france. on the margin of the one for mourning for louis xviii., is written a note to the effect that the "king this day, sep. , , orders three weeks' mourning for the late king of france." at about this time, too, the word "the ladies to wear bombazine gowns" disappears, and is replaced by "woolen stuffs." our military etiquette connected with mourning was really modelled on that in use in the army of louis xiv., as is proved by a rather singular fact. in george ii. died, and an order was issued commanding the officers and troopers in the british army to wear black crape bands and black buttons and epaulettes. very shortly afterwards the french government issued a decree to the effect that, as the english army had "slavishly imitated the french in the matter of wearing mourning, henceforth the officers of the french army should make no change in their uniform, and only wear a black band round the arm." oddly enough, at the present moment both the french and the english armies wear precisely the same "badge of grief," a black band of crape on the left arm above the elbow. the sovereign can prolong, out of marked respect for the person to be mourned, the duration of the period for general and court mourning. the following are regulations for court mourning, according to the register at the lord chamberlain's office:-- for the king or queen--full mourning, eight weeks; mourning, two weeks; and half-mourning, two weeks: in all, three full months. for the son or daughter of the sovereign--full mourning, four weeks; mourning, one week; and half-mourning, one week: total, six weeks. for the brother or sister of the sovereign--full mourning, two weeks; mourning, four days; and half-mourning, two days: total, three weeks. nephew or niece--full mourning, one week; half-mourning, one week: total, two weeks. uncle or aunt--same as above. cousin, ten days; second cousin, seven days. the following are the accepted reasons for the selection of various colours for mourning in different parts of the world:-- _black_ expresses the privation of light and joy, the midnight gloom of sorrow for the loss sustained. it is the prevailing colour of mourning in europe, and it was also the colour selected in ancient greece and in the roman empire. _black and white striped_ expresses sorrow and hope, and is the mourning of the south sea islanders. _greyish brown_--the colour of the earth, to which the dead return. it is the colour of mourning in ethiopia and abyssinia. _pale brown_--the colour of withered leaves--is the mourning of persia. _sky-blue_ expresses the assured hope that the deceased is gone to heaven, and is the colour of mourning in syria, cappadocia, and armenia. _deep-blue_ in bokhara is the colour of mourning; whilst the romans in the days of the republic also wore very dark blue for mourning. _purple and violet_--to express royalty, "kings and priests of god." it is the colour of mourning of cardinals and of the kings of france. the colour of mourning in turkey is violet. _white_--emblem of "white-handed hope." the colour of mourning in china. the ladies of ancient rome and sparta sometimes wore white mourning, which was also the colour for mourning in spain until . in england it is still customary, in several of the provinces, to wear white silk hat-bands for the unmarried. _yellow_--the sear and yellow leaf. the colour of mourning in egypt and burmah. in brittany widows' caps among the peasants are yellow. anne boleyn wore yellow mourning for catherine of arragon, but as a sign of joy. _scarlet_ is also a mourning colour, and was occasionally worn by the french kings, notably so by louis xi. [decoration] [illustration: fig. .--_funeral of his imperial majesty frederick the noble, emperor of germany. the funeral service in the imperial chapel._] [illustration: fig. .--_funeral of his majesty the emperor of germany. the procession leaving the palace._] notes. (_a_) in the th century, the undertaker issued his handbills--gruesome things, with grinning skulls and shroud-clad corpses, thigh bones, mattocks and pickaxes, hearses, etc.: "these are to notice that mr. john elphick, woollen draper, over against st michael's church, in lewes, hath a good hearse, a velvet pall, mourning cloaks, and black hangings for rooms, to be lett at reasonable rates. "he also sells all sorts of mourning and half mourning, all sorts of black cyprus for scarfs and hatbands, and white silks for scarfs and hoods at funerals; gloves of all sorts, and burying cloaths for the dead." again:-- "eleazar malory, joiner at the coffin in white chapel, near red lion street end, maketh coffins, shrouds, letteth palls, cloaks, and furnisheth with all the other things necessary for funerals at reasonable rates." (_b_) the dead were formerly buried in woollen, which was rendered compulsory by the acts car. ii. c. and ejusdem c. i., the first of which was for "lessening the importation of linen from beyond the seas, and the encouragement of the woollen and paper manufactures of the kingdome." it prescribed that the curate of every parish shall keep a register, to be provided at the charge of the parish, wherein to enter all burials and affidavits of persons being buried in woollen. no affidavit was necessary for a person dying of the plague, but for every infringement a fine of £ was imposed, one half to go to the informer, and the other half to the poor of the parish. this act was only repealed in . the material used was flannel, and such interments are frequently mentioned in the literature of the time. (_c_) misson throws some light on the custom of using flannel for enveloping the dead, but i fancy that it is of much greater antiquity than he imagined. however, he asserts:-- "there is an act of parliament which ordains, that the dead shall be bury'd in a woollen stuff, which is a kind of a thin bays, which they call flannel; nor is it lawful to use the least needleful of thread or silk. this shift is always white; but there are different sorts of it as to fineness, and consequently of different prices. to make these dresses is a particular trade, and there are many that sell nothing else; so that these habits for the dead are always to be had ready made, of what size or price you please, for people of every age and sex. after they had washed the body thoroughly clean, and shav'd it, if it be a man, and his beard be grown during his sickness, they put it on a flannel shirt, which has commonly a sleeve purfled about the wrists, and the slit of the shirt down the breast done in the same manner. when these ornaments are not of woollen lace, they are at least edg'd, and sometimes embroider'd with black thread. the shirt shou'd be at least half a foot longer than the body, that the feet of the deceas'd may be wrapped in it as in a bag. when they have thus folded the end of the shirt close to the feet, they tye the part that is folded down with a piece of woollen thread, as we do our stockings; so that the end of the shirt is done into a kind of tuft. upon the head they put a cap, which they fasten with a very broad chin cloth, with gloves on the hands, and a cravat round the neck, all of woollen. that the body may ly the softer, some put a lay of bran, about four inches thick, at the bottom of the coffin. instead of a cap, the women have a kind of head dress, with a forehead cloth." funeral invitations of a ghastly kind were sent out, and elegies, laudatory of the deceased, were sometimes printed and sent to friends. these were got up in the same charnel-house style, and embellished with skulls, human bones, and skeletons. hat-bands were costly items. "for the encouragement of our english silk, called a la modes, his royal highness the prince of denmark, the nobility, and other persons of quality, appear in mourning hatbands made of that silk, to bring the same in fashion, in the place of crapes, which are made in the pope's country where we send our money for them." (_d_) the poor in anne's time had already started burial clubs and societies, and very cheap they seem to have been. "this is to give notice that the office of society for burials, by mutual contribution of a halfpenny or farthing towards a burial, erected upon wapping wall, is now removed into katherine wheel alley, in white chappel, near justice smiths, where subscriptions are taken to compleat the number, as also at the ram in crucifix lane in barnaby street, southwark, to which places notice is to be given of the death of any member, and where any person may have the printed articles after monday next. and this thursday evening about o'clock will be buried by the undertakers, the corpse of j. s., a glover, over against the sun brewhouse, in golden lane; as also a child from the corner of acorn alley, in bishopsgate street, and another child from the great maze pond, southwark." (_e_) undertakers liked to arrange for a funeral to take place on an evening in winter, as the costs were thereby increased, for then the mourners were furnished with wax candles. these were heavy, and sometimes were made of four tapers twisted at the stem and then branching out. that these wax candles were expensive enough to excite the thievish cupidity of a band of roughs, the following advertisement will show:-- "riots and robberies--committed in and about stepney church yard, at a funeral solemnity, on wednesday, the rd day of september; and whereas many persons, who being appointed to attend the same funeral with white wax lights of a considerable value, were assaulted in a most violent manner, and the said white wax lights taken from them. whoever shall discover any of the persons, guilty of the said crimes, so as they may be convicted of the same, shall receive of mr. william prince, wax chandler in the poultry, london, ten shillings for each person so discovered." (_f_) we get a curious glimpse of the paraphernalia of a funeral in the life of a notorious cheat, "the german princess," who lived, and was hanged, in the latter part of the th century, and the same funeral customs therein described obtained in queen anne's time. she took a lodging at a house, in a good position, and told the landlady that a friend of hers, a stranger to london, had just died, and was lying at "a pitiful alehouse," and might she, for convenience sake, bring his corpse there, ready for burial on the morrow. "the landlady consented, and that evening the corps in a very handsome coffin was brought in a coach, and placed in the chamber, which was the room one pair of stairs next the street, and had a balcony. the coffin being covered only with an ordinary black cloth, our counterfeit seems much to dislike it; the landlady tells her that for s. she might have the use of a velvet pall, with which being well pleas'd, she desir'd the landlady to send for the pall, and withal accommodate the room with her best furniture, for the next day but one he should be bury'd; thus the landlady performed, setting the velvet pall, and placing on a side board table silver candlesticks, a silver flaggon, standing gilt bowls, and several other pieces of plate; but the night before the intended burial, our counterfeit lady and her maid within the house, handed to their comrades without, all the plate, velvet pall, and other furniture of the chamber that was portable and of value, leaving the coffin and the supposed corps, she and her woman descended from the balcony by help of a ladder, which her comrades had brought her." it is needless to say that the coffin contained only brickbats and hay, and a sad sequel to this story is that the undertaker sued the landlady for the loss of his pall, which had lately cost him £ . according to a request in the will of one mr. benjamin dodd, a roman catholic, "citizen and linnen draper, who fell from his horse and died soon after," four and twenty persons were at his burial, to each of whom he gave a pair of white gloves, a ring of s. value, a bottle of wine, and half-a-crown to be spent on their return that night, "to drink his soul's health, then on her journey for purification in order to eternal rest." he also appointed his "corps" to be carried in a hearse drawn by six white horses, with white feathers, and followed by six coaches, with six horses to each coach, and commanded that "no presbyterian, moderate low churchmen, or occasional conformists, be at or have anything to do with his funeral." (_g_) parisian funerals at the present day present many features common to those celebrated in england in the last century. the church, for instance, is elaborately decorated in black for a married man or woman, but in white for a spinster, youth, or child. the costumes of the hired attendants, and these are numerous--i counted one day, quite recently, no less than twenty-four, two to each coach, all handsomely dressed in black velvet--are of the time of louis xv. i am assured that the expenses of a first-class funeral in paris, in this year of grace , sometimes exceeds several hundred pounds. the _lettre de faire part_, as it is called, is also a curious feature in the funeral rites of our neighbours. it is an elaborate document in the form of a printed letter, deeply edged with black, and informs that all the members, near and distant, of the deceased's family--they are each mentioned by name and title--request you, not only to attend the funeral, but to pray for his or her soul. the fashion of sending costly wreaths to cover the coffin is recent, and was quite as unknown in paris twenty years ago as it was in this country until about the same period. wreaths of _immortelles_, sometimes dyed black, were, however, sent to funerals in france in the middle ages. in brittany, the "wake" is almost as common as it is in ireland, and quite as frequently degenerates into an unedifying spectacle. like the irish custom, it originated in the early christian practice of keeping a light burning by the corpse, and in praying for the repose of the soul, _coram_ the corpse prior to its final removal to the church and grave, certain pagan customs, the distribution of wine and bread, having been introduced, at first possibly from a sense of hospitality, and finally as means of carousal. richard davey. [decoration] * * * * * * transcriber's note: variable spelling and hyphenation have been retained. minor punctuation inconsistencies have been silently corrected. some illustrations have been moved from their original position so as not to interrupt the text. corrections. the first line indicates the original, the second the correction. p. : in these, bassirilievi and figures in terra-cotta have been found, in these, bassorilievi and figures in terra-cotta have been found, p. : at the dawn of the rennaissance at the dawn of the renaissance p. : this coifure has this coiffure has p. : of this solemn procession can be ormed of this solemn procession can be formed p. : but in white for a spinister but in white for a spinster errata. the first line indicates the original, the second how it should read. p. : "on the th of january, , the body of his 'britannic majesty' was conveyed in great state to the said church of the twelve apostles," "on the th of january, , the body of his 'britannic majesty' was conveyed in great state to the said church of the twelve apostles," note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the numerous original illustrations, many of which are in full color. see -h.htm or -h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/ / -h/ -h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/ / -h.zip) english costume painted & described by dion clayton calthrop published by adam & charles black london · mcmvii [illustration: {scissors}] published in four volumes during . published in one volume, april, . agents america the macmillan company & fifth avenue, new york canada the macmillan company of canada, ltd. bond street, toronto india macmillan & company, ltd. macmillan building, bombay bow bazaar street, calcutta [illustration: a man of the time of george iv. ( - ) here you see the coat which we now wear, slightly altered, in our evening dress. it came into fashion, with this form of top-boots, in , and was called a jean-de-bry. notice the commencement of the whisker fashion.] introduction the world, if we choose to see it so, is a complicated picture of people dressing and undressing. the history of the world is composed of the chat of a little band of tailors seated cross-legged on their boards; they gossip across the centuries, feeling, as they should, very busy and important. someone made the coat of many colours for joseph, another cut into material for elijah's mantle. baldwin, from his stall on the site of the great battle, has only to stretch his neck round to nod to the tailor who made the toga for julius cæsar; has only to lean forward to smile to pasquino, the wittiest of tailors. john pepys, the tailor, gossips with his neighbour who cut that jackanapes coat with silver buttons so proudly worn by samuel pepys, his son. mr. schweitzer, who cut beau brummell's coat, talks to mr. meyer, who shaped his pantaloons. our world is full of the sound of scissors, the clipping of which, with the gossiping tongues, drown the grander voices of history. as you will see, i have devoted myself entirely to civil costume--that is, the clothes a man or a woman would wear from choice, and not by reason of an appointment to some ecclesiastical post, or to a military calling, or to the bar, or the bench. such clothes are but symbols of their trades and professions, and have been dealt with by persons who specialize in those professions. i have taken the date of the conquest as my starting-point, and from that date--a very simple period of clothes--i have followed the changes of the garments reign by reign, fold by fold, button by button, until we arrive quite smoothly at beau brummell, the inventor of modern clothes, the prophet of cleanliness. i have taken considerable pains to trace the influence of one garment upon its successor, to reduce the wardrobe for each reign down to its simplest cuts and folds, so that the reader may follow quite easily the passage of the coat from its birth to its ripe age, and by this means may not only know the clothes of one time, but the reasons for those garments. to the best of my knowledge, such a thing has never been done before; most works on dress try to include the world from adam to charles dickens, lump a century into a page, and dismiss the ancient egyptians in a couple of colour plates. so many young gentlemen have blown away their patrimony on feathers and tobacco that it is necessary for us to confine ourselves to certain gentlemen and ladies in our own country. a knowledge of history is essential to the study of mankind, and a knowledge of history is never perfect without a knowledge of the clothes with which to dress it. a man, in a sense, belongs to his clothes; they are so much a part of him that, to take him seriously, one must know how he walked about, in what habit, with what air. i am compelled to speak strongly of my own work because i believe in it, and i feel that the series of paintings in these volumes are really a valuable addition to english history. to be modest is often to be excessively vain, and, having made an exhaustive study of my subject from my own point of view, i do not feel called upon to hide my knowledge under a bushel. of course, i do not suggest that the ordinary cultured man should acquire the same amount of knowledge as a painter, or a writer of historical subjects, or an actor, but he should understand the clothes of his own people, and be able to visualize any date in which he may be interested. one half of the people who talk glibly of beau brummell have but half an idea when he lived, and no idea that, for example, he wore whiskers. hamlet they can conjure up, but would have some difficulty in recognising shakespeare, because most portraits of him are but head and shoulders. napoleon has stamped himself on men's minds very largely through the medium of a certain form of hat, a lock of hair, and a gray coat. in future years an orchid will be remembered as an emblem. i have arranged, as far as it is possible, that each plate shall show the emblem or distinguishing mark of the reign it illustrates, so that the continuity of costume shall be remembered by the arresting notes. as the fig-leaf identifies adam, so may the chaperon twisted into a cockscomb mark richard ii. as the curled and scented hair of alcibiades occurs to our mind, so shall beau nash manage his clouded cane. elizabeth shall be helped to the memory by her piccadilly ruff; square henry viii. by his broad-toed shoes and his little flat cap; anne boleyn by her black satin nightdress; james be called up as padded trucks; maximilian as puffs and slashes; d'orsay by the curve of his hat; tennyson as a dingy brigand; gladstone as a collar; and even more recent examples, as the whistlerian lock and the burns blue suit. and what romantic incidents may we not hang upon our clothes-line! the cloak of samuel pepys ('dapper dick,' as he signed himself to a certain lady) sheltering four ladies from the rain; sir walter raleigh spreading his cloak over the mud to protect the shoes of that great humorist elizabeth (i never think of her apart from the saying, 'ginger for pluck'); mary, queen of scots, ordering false attires of hair during her captivity--all these scenes clinched into reality by the knowledge of the dress proper to them. and what are we doing to help modern history--the picture of our own times--that it may look beautiful in the ages to come? i cannot answer you that. some chapters of this work have appeared in the _connoisseur_, and i have to thank the editor for his courtesy in allowing me to reproduce them. i must also thank mr. pownall for his help in the early stages of my labours. one thing more i must add: i do not wish this book to go forth and be received with that frigid politeness which usually welcomes a history to the shelves of the bookcase, there to remain unread. the book is intended to be read, and is not wrapped up in grandiose phrases and a great wind about nothing; i would wish to be thought more friendly than the antiquarian and more truthful than the historian, and so have endeavoured to show, in addition to the body of the clothes, some little of their soul. dion clayton calthrop. contents page william the first william the second henry the first stephen henry the second richard the first john henry the third edward the first edward the second edward the third richard the second the end of the fourteenth century henry the fourth henry the fifth henry the sixth edward the fourth edward the fifth richard the third henry the seventh henry the eighth edward the sixth mary elizabeth james the first charles the first the cromwells charles the second james the second william and mary queen anne george the first george the second george the third george the fourth illustrations in colour . a man of the time of george iv. - _frontispiece_ facing page . a man of the time of william i. - . a woman of the time of william i. " . a man of the time of william ii. - . a woman of the time of william ii. " . a man of the time of henry i. - . a child of the time of henry i. " . a woman of the time of henry i. " . a man of the time of stephen - . a woman of the time of stephen " . a man of the time of henry ii. - . a woman of the time of henry ii. " . a man of the time of richard i. - . a woman of the time of richard i. " . a man of the time of john - . a woman of the time of john " . a man of the time of henry iii. - . a woman of the time of henry iii. " . a peasant of early england . a man and woman of the time of edward i. - . a man and woman of the time of edward ii. - . a man of the time of edward iii. - . a woman of the time of edward iii. " . a man of the time of richard ii. - . a woman of the time of richard ii. " . a man and woman of the time of henry iv. - . a man of the time of henry v. - . a woman of the time of henry v. " . a man of the time of henry vi. - . a woman of the time of henry vi. " . a man of the time of edward iv. - . a woman of the time of edward iv. " . a man of the time of richard iii. - . a woman of the time of richard iii. " . a man of the time of henry vii. - . a woman of the time of henry vii. " . a man of the time of henry viii. - . a man of the time of henry viii. " . a woman of the time of henry viii. " . a woman of the time of henry viii. " . a man and woman of the time of edward vi. - . a man of the time of mary - . a woman of the time of mary " . a man of the time of elizabeth - . a woman of the time of elizabeth " . a woman of the time of elizabeth " . a man of the time of james i. - . a woman of the time of james i. " . a man of the time of charles i. - . a woman of the time of charles i. " . a cromwellian man - . a woman of the time of the cromwells " . a woman of the time of the cromwells " . a man of the time of charles ii. - . a man of the time of charles ii. " . a woman of the time of charles ii. " . a man of the time of james ii. - . a woman of the time of james ii. " . a man of the time of william and mary - . a woman of the time of william and mary " . a man of the time of queen anne - . a woman of the time of queen anne " . a man of the time of george i. - . a woman of the time of george i. - . a man of the time of george ii. - . a woman of the time of george ii. " . a man of the time of george iii. - . a woman of the time of george iii. " . a man of the time of george iii. - . a woman of the time of george iii. " illustrations in black and white facing page a series of thirty-two half-tone reproductions of engravings by hollar a series of sixty half-tone reproductions of wash drawings by the dightons--father and son--and by the author numerous line drawings by the author throughout the text. william the first reigned twenty-one years: - . born . married, , matilda of flanders. the men [illustration: {a man of the time of william i.; a shoe}] why france should always give the lead in the matter of dress is a nice point in sartorial morality--a morality which holds that it takes nine tailors to make a man and but one milliner to break him, a code, in fact, with which this book will often have to deal. sartorially, then, we commence with the th of october, , upon which day, fatal to the fashions of the country, the flag of king harold, sumptuously woven and embroidered in gold, bearing the figure of a man fighting, studded with precious stones, was captured. william, of norse blood and pirate traditions, landed in england, and brought with him bloodshed, devastation, new laws, new customs, and new fashions. principal among these last was the method of shaving the hair at the back of the head, which fashion speedily died out by reason of the parlous times and the haste of war, besides the utter absurdity of the idea. fashion, however, has no sense of the ridiculous, and soon replaced the one folly by some other extravagance. william i. found the saxons very plainly dressed, and he did little to alter the masculine mode. he found the saxon ladies to be as excellent at embroidery as were their norman sisters, and in such times the spindle side was content to sit patiently at home weaving while the men were abroad ravaging the country. william was not of the stuff of dandies. no man could draw his bow; he helped with his own hands to clear the snowdrift on the march to chester. stark and fierce he was, loving the solitudes of the woods and the sight of hart and hind. [illustration: a man of the time of william i. ( - ) cloak buckled at the shoulder. leather thongs crossed on his legs. shoes of leather. tunic fitting to his body like a jersey.] when some kind of order was restored in england, many of the saxons who had fled the country and gone to constantinople came back, bringing with them the oriental idea of dress. the jews came with eastern merchandise into england, and brought rich-coloured stuffs, and as these spread through the country by slow degrees, there came a gradual change in colour and material, and finer stuffs replaced the old homespun garments. the jews were at this time very eminent as silk manufacturers and makers of purple cloth. the britons had been very famous for their dyed woollen stuffs. boadicea is said to have worn a tunic of chequered stuff, which was in all probability rather of the nature of scotch plaids. the tunics worn by the men of this time were, roughly speaking, of two kinds: those that fitted close to the body, and those that hung loose, being gathered into the waist by a band. the close-fitting tunic was in the form of a knitted jersey, with skirts reaching to the knee; it was open on either side to the hips, and fell from the hips in loose folds. the neck was slit open four or five inches, and had an edging of embroidery, and the sleeves were wide, and reached just below the elbows. these also had an edging of embroidery, or a band different in colour to the rest of the tunic. [illustration: {a man of the time of william i.}] the other form of tunic was made exactly in shape like the modern shirt, except that the neck opening was smaller. it was loose and easy, with wide sleeves to the elbow, and was gathered in at the waist by a band of stuff or leather. the skirts of the tunics were cut square or v-shaped in front and behind. there were also tunics similar in shape to either of those mentioned, except that the skirts were very short, and were tucked into wide, short breeches which reached to the knee, or into the trousers which men wore. under this tunic was a plain shirt, loosely fitting, the sleeves tight and wrinkled over the wrist, the neck showing above the opening of the tunic. this shirt was generally white, and the opening at the neck was sometimes stitched with coloured or black wool. upon the legs they wore neat-fitting drawers of wool or cloth, dyed or of natural colour, or loose trousers of the same materials, sometimes worn loose, but more generally bound round just above the knee and at the ankle. [illustration: {a man of the time of william i.}] they wore woollen socks, and for footgear they wore shoes of skin and leather, and boots of soft leather shaped naturally to the foot and strapped or buckled across the instep. the tops of the boots were sometimes ornamented with coloured bands. the cloak worn was semicircular in shape, with or without a small semicircle cut out at the neck. it was fastened over the right shoulder or in the centre by means of a large round or square brooch, or it was held in place by means of a metal ring or a stuff loop through which the cloak was pushed; or it was tied by two cords sewn on to the right side of the cloak, which cords took a bunch of the stuff into a knot and so held it, the ends of the cords having tags of metal or plain ornaments. one may see the very same make and fashion of tunic as the normans wore under their armour being worn to-day by the dervishes in lower egypt--a coarse wool tunic, well padded, made in the form of tunic and short drawers in one piece, the wide sleeves reaching just below the elbow. [illustration: {a man of the time of william i.}] the hats and caps of these men were of the most simple form--plain round-topped skull-caps, flat caps close to the head without a brim, and a hat with a peak like the helmet. hoods, of course, were worn during the winter, made very close to the head, and they were also worn under the helmets. thus in such a guise may we picture the norman lord at home, eating his meat with his fingers, his feet in loose skin shoes tied with thongs, his legs in loose trousers bound with crossed garters, his tunic open at the neck showing the white edge of his shirt, his face clean-shaven, and his hair neatly cropped. the women [illustration: {a woman of the time of william i.}] nothing could be plainer or more homely than the dress of a norman lady. her loose gown was made with ample skirts reaching well on to the ground, and it was gathered in at the waist by a belt of wool, cloth, silk, or cloth of gold web. the gown fitted easily across the shoulders, but fell from there in loose folds. the neck opening was cut as the man's, about five inches down the front, and the border ornamented with some fine needlework, as also were the borders of the wide sleeves, which came just below the elbows. often the gown was made short, so that when it was girded up the border of it fell only to the knees, and showed the long chemise below. the girdle was, perhaps, the richest portion of their attire, and was sometimes of silk diapered with gold thread, but such a girdle would be very costly. more often it would be plain wool, and be tied simply round the waist with short ends, which did not show. the chemise was a plain white garment, with tight sleeves which wrinkled at the wrists; that is to say, they were really too long for the arm, and so were caught in small folds at the wrist. the gown, opening at the neck in the same way as did the men's tunics, showed the white of the chemise, the opening being held together sometimes by a brooch. [illustration: {a woman of the time of william i.; a type of neckline}] towards the end of the reign the upper part of the gown--that is, from the neck to the waist--was worn close and fitted more closely to the figure, but not over-tightly--much as a tight jersey would fit. over all was a cloak of the semicircular shape, very voluminous--about three feet in diameter--which was brooched in the centre or on the shoulder. [illustration: a woman of the time of william i. ( - ) a twist of wool holds the gown at the waist. under the gown the chemise shows. the neck of the gown is embroidered.] on the head, where the hair was closely coiled with a few curls at the forehead, a wimple was worn, which was wound about the head and thrown over the shoulder, not allowing the hair to show. these wimples were sometimes very broad, and were almost like a mantle, so that they fell over the shoulders below the breast. tied round the wimple they sometimes had a snood, or band of silk. the shoes were like those worn by the men. these ladies were all housewives, cooking, preparing simples, doing embroidery and weaving. they were their own milliners and dressmakers, and generally made their husbands' clothes, although some garments might be made by the town tailors; but, as a rule, they weaved, cut, sewed, and fitted for their families, and then, after the garments were finished to satisfaction, they would begin upon strips of embroidery to decorate them. in such occupation we may picture them, and imagine them sitting by the windows with their ladies, busily sewing, looking up from their work to see hedged fields in lambing-time, while shepherds in rough sheepskin clothes drove the sheep into a neat enclosure, and saw to it that they lay on warm straw against the cold february night. william the second reigned thirteen years: - . born _c._ . the men [illustration: {a man of the time of william ii.}] about this time there came to england a norman, who settled near by the abbey of battle--baldwin the tailor by name, whom one might call the father of english tailoring. baldwin the tailor sat contentedly cross-legged on his bench and plied his needle and thread, and snipped, and cut, and sewed, watching the birds pick worms and insects from the turf of the battleground. [illustration: a man of the time of william ii. ( - ) shows the wide drawers with an embroidered hem. under them can be seen the long woollen drawers bound with leather thongs.] england is getting a little more settled. the reign opens picturesquely enough with william rufus hastening to england with his father's ring, and ends with the tragedy of the new forest and a blood-stained tunic. clothes begin to play an important part. rich fur-lined cloaks and gowns trail on the ground, and sweep the daisies so lately pressed by mailed feet and sopped with blood where the saxons fell. [illustration: the cloak pushed through a ring.] times have changed since baldwin was at the coronation at westminster on christmas day twenty years ago. flemish weavers and farmers arrive from overseas, and are established by william ii. in the north to teach the people pacific arts, causing in time a stream of flemish merchandise to flow into the country, chiefly of rich fabrics and fine cloths. the men adopt longer tunics, made after the same pattern as before--split up either side and loose in the sleeve--but in many cases the skirts reach to the ground in heavy folds, and the sleeves hang over the hands by quite a yard. the necks of these tunics are ornamented as before, with coloured bands or stiff embroidery. the cuffs have the embroidery both inside and out, so that when the long sleeve is turned back over the hand the embroidery will show. the fashion in cloaks is still the same--of a semicircular pattern. the shoes are the same as in the previous reign--that is, of the shape of the foot, except in rare cases of dandyism, when the shoes were made with long, narrow toes, and these, being stuffed with moss or wool, were so stiffened and curled up at the ends that they presented what was supposed to be a delightfully extravagant appearance. they wore a sort of ankle garter of soft leather or cloth, which came over the top of the boot and just above the ankle. the hair, beard, and moustaches were worn long and carefully combed--in fact, the length of the beard caused the priests to rail at them under such terms as 'filthy goats.' but they had hardly the right to censorship, since they themselves had to be severely reprimanded by their bishops for their extravagance in dress. many gentlemen, and especially the welsh, wore long loose trousers as far as the ankle, leaving these garments free from any cross gartering. these were secured about the waist by a girdle of stuff or leather. [illustration: {two men of the time of william ii.}] the ultra-fashionable dress was an elongation of every part of the simple dress of the previous reign. given these few details, it is easy for anyone who wishes to go further to do so, in which case he must keep to the main outline very carefully; but as to the actual length of sleeve or shoe, or the very measurements of a cloak, they varied with the individual folly of the owner. so a man might have long sleeves and a short tunic, or a tunic which trailed upon the ground, the sleeves of which reached only to the elbow. i have noticed that it is the general custom of writers upon the dress of this early time to dwell lovingly upon the colours of the various parts of the dress as they were painted in the illuminated manuscripts. this is a foolish waste of time, insomuch as the colours were made the means of displays of pure design on the part of the very early illuminators; and if one were to go upon such evidence as this, by the exactness of such drawings alone, then every norman had a face the colour of which nearly resembled wet biscuit, and hair picked out in brown lines round each wave and curl. these woollen clothes--cap, tunic, semicircular cloak, and leg coverings--have all been actually found in the tomb of a briton of the bronze age. so little did the clothes alter in shape, that the early briton and the late norman were dressed nearly exactly alike. when the tomb of william ii. was opened in , it was found, as had been suspected, that the grave had been opened and looted of what valuables it might have contained; but there were found among the dust which filled the bottom of the tomb fragments of red cloth, of gold cloth, a turquoise, a serpent's head in ivory, and a wooden spear shaft, perhaps the very spear that william carried on that fatal day in the new forest. also with the dust and bones of the dead king some nutshells were discovered, and examination showed that mice had been able to get into the tomb. so, if you please, you may hit upon a pretty moral. the women [illustration: {a woman of the time of william ii.}] and so the lady began to lace.... a moralist, a denouncer of the fair sex, a satirist, would have his fling at this. what thundering epithets and avalanche of words should burst out at such a momentous point in english history! however, the lady pleased herself. not that the lacing was very tight, but it commenced the habit, and the habit begat the harm, and the thing grew until it arrived finally at that buckram, square-built, cardboard-and-tissue figure which titters and totters through the elizabethan era. our male eyes, trained from infancy upwards to avoid gazing into certain shop windows, nevertheless retain a vivid impression of an awesome affair therein, which we understood by hints and signs confined our mothers' figures in its deadly grip. that the lady did not lace herself overtight is proved by the many informations we have of her household duties; that she laced tight enough for unkind comment is shown by the fact that some old monk pictured the devil in a neat-laced gown. it was, at any rate, a distinct departure from the loosely-clothed lady of towards the neater figure of . the lacing was more to draw the wrinkles of the close-woven bodice of the gown smooth than to form a false waist and accentuated hips, the beauty of which malformation i must leave to the writers in ladies' journals and the condemnation to health faddists. however, the lacing was not the only matter of note. a change was coming over all feminine apparel--a change towards richness, which made itself felt in this reign more in the fabric than in the actual make of the garment. [illustration: a woman of the time of william ii. ( - ) this shows the gown, which is laced behind, fitting more closely to the figure. the sleeves are wider above the wrist.] the gown was open at the neck in the usual manner, was full in the skirt and longer than heretofore, was laced at the back, and was loose in the sleeve. the sleeve as worn by the men--that is, the over-long sleeve hanging down over the hand--was also worn by the women, and hung down or was turned back, according to the freak of the wearer. not only this, but a new idea began, which was to cut a hole in the long sleeve where the hand came, and, pushing the hand through, to let the rest of the sleeve droop down. this developed, as we shall see later. [illustration: {a woman of the time of william ii.}] then the cloak, which had before been fastened by a brooch on the shoulder or in the centre of the breast, was now held more tightly over the shoulders by a set of laces or bands which ran round the back from underneath the brooch where they were fastened, thus giving more definition to the shoulders. you must remember that such fashions as the hole in the sleeve and the laced cloak were not any more universal than is any modern fashion, and that the good dame in the country was about a century behind the times with her loose gown and heavy cloak. there were still the short gowns, which, being tucked in at the waist by the girdle, showed the thick wool chemise below and the unlaced gown, fitting like a jersey. the large wimple was still worn wrapped about the head, and the hair was still carefully hidden. [illustration: {a woman of the time of william ii.}] shall we imagine that it is night, and that the lady is going to bed? she is in her long white chemise, standing at the window looking down upon the market square of a small town. the moon picks out every detail of carving on the church, and throws the porch into a dense gloom. not a soul is about, not a light is to be seen, not a sound is to be heard. the lady is about to leave the window, when she hears a sound in the street below. she peers down, and sees a man running towards the church; he goes in and out of the shadows. from her open window she can hear his heavy breathing. now he darts into the shadow of the porch, and then out of the gloom comes a furious knocking, and a voice crying, 'sanctuary!' the lady at her window knows that cry well. soon the monks in the belfry will awake and ring the galilee-bell. the galilee-bell tolls, and the knocking ceases. a few curious citizens look out. a dog barks. then a door opens and closes with a bang. there is silence in the square again, but the lady still stands at her window, and she follows the man in her thoughts. now he is admitted by the monks, and goes at once to the altar of the patron-saint of the church, where he kneels and asks for a coroner. the coroner, an aged monk, comes to him and confesses him. he tells his crime, and renounces his rights in the kingdom; and then, in that dark church, he strips to his shirt and offers his clothes to the sacrist for his fee. ragged, mud-stained clothes, torn cloak, all fall from him in a heap upon the floor of the church. now the sacrist gives him a large cloak with a cross upon the shoulder, and, having fed him, gives him into the charge of the under-sheriff, who will next day pass him from constable to constable towards the coast, where he will be seen on board a ship, and so pass away, an exile for ever. the night is cold. the lady pulls a curtain across the window, and then, stripping herself of her chemise, she gets into bed. henry the first reigned thirty-five years: - . born . married to matilda of scotland, ; to adela of louvain, . the men [illustration: {a man of the time of henry i.; two types of shoe}] the father of popular literature, gerald of wales, says: 'it is better to be dumb than not to be understood. new times require new fashions, and so i have thrown utterly aside the old and dry methods of some authors, and aimed at adopting the fashion of speech which is actually in vogue to-day.' vainly, perhaps, i have endeavoured to follow this precept laid down by father gerald, trying by slight pictures of the times to make the dry bones live, to make the clothes stir up and puff themselves into the shapes of men. it is almost a necessity that one who would describe, paint, stage, or understand the costume of this reign should know the state of england at the time. for there is in this reign a distinction without a difference in clothes; the shapes are almost identical to the shapes and patterns of the previous reigns, but everybody is a little better dressed. the mantles worn by the few in the time of william the red are worn now by most of the nobility, fur-lined and very full. one may see on the sides of the west door of rochester cathedral henry and his first wife, and notice that the mantle he wears is very full; one may see that he wears a supertunic, which is gathered round his waist. this tunic is the usual norman tunic reaching to the knee, but now it is worn over an under-tunic which reaches to the ground in heavy folds. one may notice that the king's hair is long and elegantly twisted into pipes or ringlets, and that it hangs over his shoulders. [illustration: a man of the time of henry i. ( - ) his hair is curled in ringlets; he wears a long cloak. the shirt shows at the neck of the tunic. the small design in the corner is from a sanctuary door-knocker.] no longer is the priestly abuse of 'filthy goat' applicable, for henry's beard is neatly trimmed and cut round his face. these two things are the only practical difference between the two dates--the end of the eleventh century and the beginning of the twelfth. the under-tunic was made as a perfectly plain gown with tight sleeves ending at the wrist; it hung loose and full upon the figure. over this was worn the short tunic with wide sleeves ending at the elbow. both tunics would have broad borders of embroidered work or bands of coloured material. the supertunic would be brooched by one of those circular norman brooches which was an ornamental circle of open gold-work in which stones and jewels were set. the brooch was fastened by a central pin. the extravagances of the previous reign were in some measure done away with; even the very long hair was not fashionable in the latter half of this reign, and the ultra-long sleeve was not so usual. so we may give as a list of clothes for men in this reign: a white linen shirt. a long tunic, open at the neck, falling to the ground, with tight sleeves to the wrist. a short tunic reaching only to the knees, more open at the neck than the long tunic, generally fastened by a brooch. tight, well-fitting drawers or loose trousers. bandages or garters crossed from the ankle to the knee to confine the loose trousers or ornament the tights. boots of soft leather which had an ornamental band at the top. socks with an embroidered top. shoes of cloth and leather with an embroidered band down the centre and round the top. shoes of skin tied with leather thongs. caps of skin or cloth of a very plain shape and without a brim. belts of leather or cloth or silk. semicircular cloaks fastened as previously described, and often lined with fur. the clothes of every colour, but with little or no pattern; the patterns principally confined to irregular groups of dots. and to think that in the year in which henry died nizami visited the grave of omar al khayyám in the hira cemetery at nishapur! [illustration: a child of the time of henry i. it is only in quite recent years that there have been quite distinct dresses for children, fashions indeed which began with the ideas for the improvement in hygiene. for many centuries children were dressed, with slight modifications, after the manner of their parents, looking like little men and women, until in the end they arrived at the grotesque infants of hogarth's day, powdered and patched, with little stiff skirted suits and stiff brocade gowns, with little swords and little fans and, no doubt, many pretty airs and graces. one thing i have never seen until the early sixteenth century, and that is girls wearing any of the massive head-gear of their parents; in all other particulars they were the same.] the women [illustration: {a woman of the time of henry i.}] the greatest change in the appearance of the women was in the arrangement of the hair. after a hundred years or more of headcloths and hidden hair suddenly appears a head of hair. until now a lady might have been bald for all the notice she took of her hair; now she must needs borrow hair to add to her own, so that her plaits shall be thick and long. it is easy to see how this came about. the hair, for convenience, had always been plaited in two plaits and coiled round the head, where it lay concealed by the wimple. one day some fine lady decides to discard her close and uncomfortable head-covering. she lets her plaits hang over her shoulders, and so appears in public. contempt of other ladies who have fine heads of hair for the thinness of her plaits; competition in thick and long hair; anger of ladies whose hair is not thick and long; enormous demand for artificial hair; failure of the supply to meet the ever-increasing demand; invention of silken cases filled with a substitute for hair, these cases attached to the end of the plaits to elongate them--in this manner do many fashions arrive and flourish, until such time as the common people find means of copying them, and then my lady wonders how she could ever have worn such a common affair. the gowns of these ladies remained much the same, except that the loose gown, without any show of the figure, was in great favour; this gown was confined by a long girdle. the girdle was a long rope of silk or wool, which was placed simply round the waist and loosely knotted; or it was wound round above the waist once, crossed behind, and then knotted in front, and the ends allowed to hang down. the ends of the girdle had tassels and knots depending from them. the silk cases into which the hair was placed were often made of silk of variegated colours, and these cases had metal ends or tassels. the girdles sometimes were broad bands of silk diapered with gold thread, of which manufacture specimens remain to us. [illustration: a woman of the time of henry i. ( - ) this shows the pendant sleeve with an embroidered hem. the long plaits of hair ended with metal, or silk, tags. at the neck and wrists the white chemise shows.] the sleeves of the gowns had now altered in shape, and had acquired a sort of pendulent cuff, which hung down about two hands' breadth from the wrist. the border was, as usual, richly ornamented. [illustration: {a woman of the time of henry i.}] then we have a new invention, the pelisse. it is a loose silk coat, which is brooched at the waist, or buttoned into a silk loop. the sleeves are long--that is, they gradually increase in size from the underarm to the wrist, and sometimes are knotted at the ends, and so are unlike the other gown sleeves, which grow suddenly long near to the wrist. this pelisse reaches to the knees, and is well open in front. the idea was evidently brought back from the east after the knights arrived back from the first crusade, as it is in shape exactly like the coats worn by persian ladies. we may conceive a nice picture of countess constance, the wife of hugh lufus, earl of chester, as she appeared in her dairy fresh from milking the cows, which were her pride. no doubt she did help to milk them; and in her long under-gown, with her plaits once more confined in the folds of her wimple, she made cheeses--such good cheeses that anselm, archbishop of canterbury, rejoiced in a present of some of them. what a change it must have been to matilda, free of the veil that she hated, from the black nuns of romsey, and the taunts and blows of her aunt christina, to become the wife of king henry, and to disport herself in fine garments and long plaited hair--matilda the very royal, the daughter of a king, the sister to three kings, the wife of a king, the mother of an empress! stephen reigned nineteen years: - . born . married, , to matilda of boulogne. the men [illustration: {a man of the time of stephen}] when one regards the mass of material in existence showing costume of the tenth and eleventh centuries, it appears curious that so little fabric remains of this particular period. the few pieces of fabric in existence are so worn and bare that they tell little, whereas pieces of earlier date of english or norman material are perfect, although thin and delicate. there are few illuminated manuscripts of the twelfth century, or of the first half of it, and to the few there are all previous historians of costume have gone, so that one is left without choice but to go also to these same books. the possibilities, however, of the manuscripts referred to have not been exhausted, and too much attention has been paid to the queer drawing of the illuminators; so that where they utilized to the full the artistic license, others have sought to pin it down as accurate delineation of the costume of the time. in this i have left out all the supereccentric costumes, fearing that such existed merely in the imagination of the artist, and i have applied myself to the more ordinary and understandable. as there are such excellent works on armour, i have not touched at all upon the subject, so that we are left but the few simple garments that men wore when they put off their armour, or that the peasant and the merchant habitually wore. ladies occupied their leisure in embroidery and other fine sewing, in consequence of which the borders of tunics, of cloaks, the edgings of sleeves, and bands upon the shoes, were elegantly patterned. the more important the man, the finer his shoes. [illustration: a man of the time of stephen ( - ) he is wearing a cloak with hood attached; it is of skin, the smooth leather inside. he has an ankle gaiter covering the top of his shoes. on the arm over which the cloak hangs can be seen the white sleeve of the shirt.] as will be seen from the drawings, the man wore his hair long, smoothly parted in the centre, with a lock drawn down the parting from the back of his head. as a rule, the hair curled back naturally, and hung on the shoulders, but sometimes the older fashion of the past reign remained, and the hair was carefully curled in locks and tied with coloured ribbon. besides the hood as covering for the head, men wore one or other of the simple caps shown, made of cloth or of fur, or of cloth fur-lined. [illustration: {a man of the time of stephen; two types of shoe; a boot}] [illustration: {two types of tunic; two types of cloak; four types of sleeve showing cuff variations}] next to his skin the man of every class wore a shirt of the pattern shown--the selfsame shirt that we wear to day, excepting that the sleeves were made very long and tight-fitting, and were pushed back over the wrist, giving those wrinkles which we notice on all the bayeux tapestry sleeves, and which we see for many centuries in drawings of the undergarment. the shape has always remained the same; the modes of fastening the shirt differ very slightly--so little, in fact, that a shirt of the fourth century which still remains in existence shows the same button and loop that we notice of the shirts of the twelfth century. the richer man had his shirt embroidered round the neck and sometimes at the cuffs. over this garment the man wore his tunic--of wool, or cloth, or (rarely) of silk; the drawing explains the exact making of it. the tunic, as will be seen, was embroidered at the neck, the cuffs, and round the border. one drawing shows the most usual of these tunics, while the other drawings will explain the variations from it--either a tight sleeve made long and rolled back, a sleeve made very wide at the cuff and allowed to hang, or a sleeve made so that it fell some way over the hand. it was embroidered inside and out at the cuff, and was turned back to allow free use of the hand. over the tunic was worn the cloak, a very simple garment, being a piece of cloth cut in the shape of a semicircle, embroidered on the border or not, according to the purse and position of the owner. sometimes a piece was cut out to fit the neck. another form of cloak was worn with a hood. this was generally used for travelling, or worn by such people as shepherds. it was made for the richer folk of fine cloth, fur-lined, or entirely of fur, and for the poorer people of skin or wool. the cloak was fastened by a brooch, and was pinned in the centre or on either shoulder, most generally on the right; or it was pushed through a ring sewn on to the right side of the neck of the cloak. the brooches were practically the same as those worn in the earlier reigns, or were occasionally of a pure roman design. as will be seen in the small diagrams of men wearing the clothes of the day, the tunic, the shirt, and the cloak were worn according to the season, and many drawings in the mss. of the date show men wearing the shirt alone. on their legs men wore trousers of leather for riding, bound round with leather thongs, and trousers of wool also, bound with coloured straps of wool or cloth. [illustration: {a man of the time of stephen; an alternative hat for a man}] stockings of wool were worn, and cloth stockings also, and socks. there was a sock without a foot, jewelled or embroidered round the top, which was worn over the stocking and over the top of the boot in the manner of ankle gaiters. the country man wore twists of straw round his calf and ankle. for the feet there were several varieties of boots and shoes made of leather and stout cloth, now and again with wooden soles. as has been said before, the important people rejoiced in elegant footgear of all colours. all the shoes buttoned with one button above the outside ankle. the boots were sometimes tall, reaching to the bottom of the calf of the leg, and were rolled over, showing a coloured lining. sometimes they were loose and wrinkled over the ankle. they were both, boot and shoe, made to fit the foot; for in this reign nearly all the extravagances of the previous reign had died out, and it is rare to find drawings or mention of long shoes stuffed with tow or wool. during the reign of stephen the nation was too occupied in wars and battles to indulge in excessive finery, and few arts flourished, although useful improvements occurred in the crafts. there is in the british museum a fine enamelled plate of this date which is a representation of henry of blois, stephen's brother, who was the bishop of winchester. part of the inscription, translated by mr. franks, says that 'art is above gold and gems,' and that 'henry, while living, gives gifts of brass to god.' champlevé enamel was very finely made in the twelfth century, and many beautiful examples remain, notably a plaque which was placed on the column at the foot of which geoffrey plantagenet was buried. it is a portrait of him, and shows the byzantine influence still over the french style. this may appear to be rather apart from costume, but it leads one to suppose that the ornaments of the time may have been frequently executed in enamel or in brass--such ornaments as rings and brooches. it is hard to say anything definite about the colours of the dresses at this time. all that we can say is that the poorer classes were clothed principally in self-coloured garments, and that the dyes used for the clothes of the nobles were of very brilliant hues. but a street scene would be more occupied by the colour of armour. one would have seen a knight and men-at-arms--the knight in his plain armour and the men in leather and steel; a few merchants in coloured cloaks, and the common crowd in brownish-yellow clothes with occasional bands of colour encircling their waists. the more simply the people are represented, the more truthful will be the picture or presentation. few pictures of this exact time are painted, and few stories are written about it, but this will give all the information necessary to produce any picture or stage-play, or to illustrate any story. the garments are perfectly easy to cut out and make. in order to prove this i have had them made from the bare outlines given here, without any trouble. the women [illustration: {a woman of the time of stephen}] though many parts of england were at this time being harassed by wars, still the domestic element grew and flourished. the homes of the english from being bare and rude began to know the delights of embroidery and weaving. the workroom of the ladies was the most civilized part of the castle, and the effect of the norman invasion of foreign fashions was beginning to be felt. as the knights were away to their fighting, so were the knights' ladies engaged in sewing sleeve embroideries, placing of pearls upon shoes, making silk cases for their hair, and otherwise stitching, cutting, and contriving against the return of their lords. [illustration: {a woman of the time of stephen}] it is recorded that matilda escaped from oxford by a postern in a white dress, and no doubt her women sympathizers made much of white for dresses. the ladies wore a simple undergarment of thin material called a sherte or camise; this was bordered with some slight embroidery, and had tightish long sleeves pushed back over the wrist. the garment fell well on to the ground. this camise was worn by all classes. the upper garment was one of three kinds: made from the neck to below the breast, including the sleeves of soft material; from the breast to the hips it was made of some elastic material, as knitted wool or thin cloth, stiffened by criss-cross bands of cloth, and was fitted to the figure and laced up the back; the lower part was made of the same material as the sleeves and bust. [illustration: a woman of the time of stephen ( - ) her dress fits to her figure by lacing at the back. her long sleeves are tied up to keep them from trailing upon the ground. her hair is fastened at the end into silken cases. she has a wimple in her hands which she may wind about her head.] the second was made tight-fitting in the body and bust, all of one elastic material, and the skirt of loose thin stuff. the third was a loose tunic reaching half-way between the knees and feet, showing the camise, and tied about the waist and hips by a long girdle. the sleeves of these garments showed as many variations as those of the men, but with the poor folk they were short and useful, and with the rich they went to extreme length, and were often knotted to prevent them from trailing on the ground. the collar and the borders of the sleeves were enriched with embroidery in simple designs. in the case of the loose upper garment the border was also embroidered. in winter a cloak of the same shape as was worn by the men was used--_i.e._, cut exactly semicircular, with embroidered edges. the shoes of the ladies were fitted to the foot in no extravagant shape, and were sewn with bands of pearls or embroidery. the poorer folk went about barefoot. the hair was a matter of great moment and most carefully treated; it was parted in the centre and then plaited, sometimes intertwined with coloured ribbands or twists of thin coloured material; it was added to in length by artificial hair, and was tied up in a number of ways. either it was placed in a tight silk case, like an umbrella case, which came about half-way up the plait from the bottom, and had little tassels depending from it, or the hair was added to till it reached nearly to the feet, and was bound round with ribbands, the ends having little gold or silver pendants. the hair hung, as a rule, down the front on either side of the face, or occasionally behind down the back, as was the case when the wimple was worn. when the ladies went travelling or out riding they rode astride like men, and wore the ordinary common-hooded cloak. brooches for the tunic and rings for the fingers were common among the wealthy. the plait was introduced into the architecture of the time, as is shown by a norman moulding at durham. compared with the saxon ladies, these ladies of stephen's time were elegantly attired; compared with the plantagenet ladies, they were dressed in the simplest of costumes. no doubt there were, as in all ages, women who gave all their body and soul to clothes, who wore sleeves twice the length of anyone else, who had more elaborate plaits and more highly ornamented shoes; but, taking the period as a whole, the clothes of both sexes were plainer than in any other period of english history. one must remember that when the normans came into the country the gentlemen among the saxons had already borrowed the fashions prevalent in france, but that the ladies still kept in the main to simple clothes; indeed, it was the man who strutted to woo clad in all the fopperies of his time--to win the simple woman who toiled and span to deck her lord in extravagant embroideries. [illustration: {a woman of the time of stephen}] the learning of the country was shared by the ladies and the clergy, and the influence of osburgha, the mother of alfred, and editha, the wife of edward the confessor, was paramount among the noble ladies of the country. the energy of the clergy in this reign was more directed to building and the branches of architecture than to the more studious and sedentary works of illumination and writing, so that the sources from which we gather information with regard to the costume in england are few, and also peculiar, as the drawing of this date was, although careful, extremely archaic. picture the market-town on a market day when the serfs were waiting to buy at the stalls until the buyers from the abbey and the castle had had their pick of the fish and the meat. the lady's steward and the father-procurator bought carefully for their establishments, talking meanwhile of the annual catch of eels for the abbey. picture robese, the mother of thomas, the son of gilbert becket, weighing the boy thomas each year on his birthday, and giving his weight in money, clothes, and provisions to the poor. she was a type of the devout housewife of her day, and the wife of a wealthy trader. the barons were fortifying their castles, and the duties of their ladies were homely and domestic. they provided the food for men-at-arms, the followers, and for their husbands; saw that simples were ready with bandages against wounds and sickness; looked, no doubt, to provisions in case of siege; sewed with their maidens in a vestiary or workroom, and dressed as best they could for their position. what they must have heard and seen was enough to turn them from the altar of fashion to works of compassion. their houses contained dreadful prisons and dungeons, where men were put upon rachentegs, and fastened to these beams so that they were unable to sit, lie, or sleep, but must starve. from their windows in the towers the ladies could see men dragged, prisoners, up to the castle walls, through the hall, up the staircase, and cast, perhaps past their very eyes, from the tower to the moat below. such times and sights were not likely to foster proud millinery or dainty ways, despite of which innate vanity ran to ribbands in the hair, monstrous sleeves, jewelled shoes, and tight waists. the tiring women were not overworked until a later period, when the hair would take hours to dress, and the dresses months to embroider. in the town about the castle the merchants' wives wore simple homespun clothes of the same form as their ladies. the serfs wore plain smocks loose over the camise and tied about the waist, and in the bitter cold weather skins of sheep and wolves unlined and but roughly dressed. [illustration: cases for the hair.] in the treaty of wallingford brought many of the evils to an end, and stephen was officially recognised as king, making henry his heir. before the year was out stephen died. i have not touched on ecclesiastical costume because there are so many excellent and complete works upon such dress, but i may say that it was above all civil dress most rich and magnificent. i have given this slight picture of the time in order to show a reason for the simplicity of the dress, and to show how, enclosed in their walls, the clergy were increasing in riches and in learning; how, despite the disorders of war, the internal peace of the towns and hamlets was growing, with craft gilds and merchant gilds. the lords and barons fighting their battles knew little of the bond of strength that was growing up in these primitive labour unions; but the lady in her bower, in closer touch with the people, receiving visits from foreign merchants and pedlars with rare goods to sell or barter, saw how, underlying the miseries of bloodshed and disaster, the land began to bloom and prosper, to grow out of the rough place it had been into the fair place of market-town and garden it was to be. meanwhile london's thirteen conventual establishments were added to by another, the priory of st. bartholomew, raised by rahere, the king's minstrel. henry the second reigned thirty-five years: - . born . married, , to eleanor of guienne. the men [illustration: {a man of the time of henry ii.}] the king himself is described as being careless of dress, chatty, outspoken. his hair was close-cropped, his neck was thick, and his eyes were prominent; his cheek-bones were high, and his lips coarse. the costume of this reign was very plain in design, but rich in stuffs. gilt spurs were attached to the boots by red leather straps, gloves were worn with jewels in the backs of them, and the mantles seem to have been ornamented with designs. [illustration: a man of the time of henry ii. ( - ) he wears the short cloak, and his long tunic is held by a brooch at the neck and is girdled by a long-tongued belt. there are gloves on his hands.] the time of patterns upon clothes began. the patterns were simple, as crescents, lozenges, stars. william de magna villa had come back from the holy land with a new fabric, a precious silk called 'imperial,' which was made in a workshop patronized by the byzantine emperors. the long tunic and the short supertunic were still worn, but these were not so frequently split up at the side. high boots reaching to the calf of the leg were in common use. that part of the hood which fell upon the shoulders was now cut in a neat pattern round the edge. silks, into which gold thread was sewn or woven, made fine clothes, and cloth cloaks lined with expensive furs, even to the cost of a thousand pounds of our money, were worn. the loose trouser was going out altogether, and in its stead the hose were made to fit more closely to the leg, and were all of gay colours; they were gartered with gold bands crossed, the ends of which had tassels, which hung down when the garter was crossed and tied about the knee. henry, despite his own careless appearance, was nicknamed court manteau, or short mantle, on account of a short cloak or mantle he is supposed to have brought into fashion. the shirts of the men, which showed at the opening of the tunic, were buttoned with small gold buttons or studs of gold sewn into the linen. the initial difference in this reign was the more usual occurrence of patterns in diaper upon the clothes. the length of a yard was fixed by the length of the king's arm. with the few exceptions mentioned, the costume is the same as in the time of stephen. it is curious to note what scraps of pleasant gossip come to us from these early times: st. thomas à becket dining off a pheasant the day before his martyrdom; the angry king calling to his knights, 'how a fellow that hath eaten my bread, a beggar that first came to my court on a lame horse, dares to insult his king and the royal family, and tread upon my whole kingdom, and not one of the cowards i nourish at my table, not one will deliver me of this turbulent priest!'--the veins no doubt swelling on his bull-like neck, the prominent eyes bloodshot with temper, the result of that angry speech, to end in the king's public penance before the martyr's tomb. picture the scene at canterbury on august , , when louis vii., king of france, dressed in the manner and habit of a pilgrim, came to the shrine and offered there his cup of gold and a royal precious stone, and vowed a gift of a hundred hogsheads of wine as a yearly rental to the convent. a common sight in london streets at this time was a tin medal of st. thomas hung about the necks of the pilgrims. and here i cannot help but give another picture. henry ii., passing through wales on his way to ireland in , hears the exploits of king arthur which are sung to him by the welsh bards. in this song the bards mention the place of king arthur's burial, at glastonbury abbey in the churchyard. when henry comes back from ireland he visits the abbot of glastonbury, and repeats to him the story of king arthur's tomb. one can picture the search: the king talking eagerly to the abbot; the monks or lay-brothers digging in the place indicated by the words of the song; the knights in armour, their mantles wrapped about them, standing by. then, as the monks search feet below the surface, a spade rings upon stone. picture the interest, the excitement of these antiquarians. it is a broad stone which is uncovered, and upon it is a thin leaden plate in the form of a corpse, bearing the inscription: 'hic jacet sepultus inclytus rex arturius in insula avalonia.' they draw up this great stone, and with greedy eyes read the inscription. the monks continue to dig. presently, at the depth of feet, they find the trunk of a tree, and in its hollowed shape lie arthur and his queen--arthur and guinevere, two names which to us now are part of england, part of ourselves, as much as our patron st. george. here they lie upon the turf, and all the party gaze on their remains. the skull of arthur is covered with wounds; his bones are enormous. the queen's body is in a good state of preservation, and her hair is neatly plaited, and is of the colour of gold. suddenly she falls to dust. they bury them again with great care. so lay our national hero since he died at the battle of camlan in cornwall in the year , and after death was conveyed by sea to glastonbury, and all traces of his burial-place lost except in the songs of the people until such day as henry found him and his queen. the women [illustration: {a woman of the time of henry ii.; a circular pin}] about this time came the fashion of the chin-band, and again the glory of the hair was hidden under the wimple. to dress a lady's hair for this time the hair must be brushed out, and then divided into two parts: these are to be plaited, and then brought round the crown of the head and fastened in front above the forehead. the front pieces of hair are to be neatly pushed back from the forehead, to show a high brow. now a cloth of linen is taken, folded under the chin, and brought over the top of the head, and there pinned. then another thin band of linen is placed round the head and fastened neatly at the back; and over all a piece of fine linen is draped, and so arranged that it shall just cover the forehead-band and fall on to the shoulders. this last piece of linen is fastened to the chin-band and the forehead-strap by pins. [illustration: {four steps to dress a woman's hair}] this fashion gave rise in later times to a linen cap; the forehead-strap was increased in height and stiffened so that it rose slightly above the crown of the head, and the wimple, instead of hanging over it, was sewn down inside it, and fell over the top of the cap. later the cap was sewn in pleats. the gown of this time was quite loose, with a deep band round the neck and round the hem of the skirts, which were very full. so far as one can tell, it was put on over the head, having no other opening but at the neck, and was held at the waist by an ornamental girdle. the chemise showed above the neck of the gown, which was fastened by the usual round brooch. [illustration: a woman of the time of henry ii. ( - ) there is a chin-band to be seen passing under the wimple; this band is pinned to hold it round the head.] the sleeves were well fitting, rather loose at the elbow, and fell shaped over the wrist, where there was a deep border of embroidery. it is quite possible that the cuffs and hem may have been made of fur. the shoes were, as usual to the last two reigns, rather blunt at the toe, and generally fitting without buckle, button, or strap round the ankle, where they were rolled back. above the waist the tied girdle was still worn, but this was being supplanted by a broad belt of silk or ornamented leather, which fastened by means of a buckle. the tongue of the belt was made very long, and when buckled hung down below the knee. the cloaks, from the light way in which they are held, appear to have been made of silk or some such fine material as fine cloth. they are held on to the shoulders by a running band of stuff or a silk cord, the ends of which pass through two fasteners sewn on to the cloak, and these are knotted or have some projecting ornament which prevents the cord from slipping out of the fastener. in this way one sees the cloak hanging from the shoulders behind, and the cord stretched tight across the breast, or the cord knotted in a second place, and so bringing the cloak more over the shoulders. the effigy of the queen at fontevraud shows her dress covered with diagonal bars of gold, in the triangles of which there are gold crescents placed from point to point, and no doubt other ladies of her time had their emblems or badges embroidered into their gowns. richard the first reigned ten years: - . born . married, , to berengaria of navarre. the men [illustration: {a man of the time of richard i.; a hood; a shoe}] the king had but little influence over dress in his time, seeing that he left england as soon as he was made king, and only came back for two months in to raise money and to be crowned again. the general costume was then as plain as it had ever been, with long tunics and broad belts fastened by a big buckle. the difference in costume between this short reign and that of henry ii. is almost imperceptible; if any difference may be noted, it is in the tinge of orientalism in the garments. there is more of the long and flowing robe, more of the capacious mantle, the wider sleeve. no doubt the many who came from the crusades made a good deal of difference to english homes, and actual dresses and tunics from the east, of gorgeous colours and eastern designs, were, one must suppose, to be seen in england. cloth of gold and cloth of gold and silks--that is, warf of silk and weft of gold--were much prized, and were called by various names from the persian, as 'ciclatoun,' 'siglaton.' such stuff, when of great thickness and value--so thick that six threads of silk or hemp were in the warf--was called 'samite.' later, when the cloth of gold was more in use, and the name had changed from 'ciclatoun' to 'bundekin,' and from that to 'tissue,' to keep such fine cloth from fraying or tarnishing, they put very thin sheets of paper away between the folds of the garments; so to this day we call such paper tissue-paper. leaf-gold was used sometimes over silk to give pattern and richness to it. [illustration: a man of the time of richard i. ( - )] a curious survival of this time, which has a connection with costume, was the case of abraham thornton in . abraham thornton was accused of having drowned mary ashford, but he was acquitted by the jury. this acquittal did not satisfy popular feeling, and the brother of mary ashford appealed. now thornton was well advised as to his next proceeding, and, following the still existent law of this early time of which i write, he went to westminster hall, where he threw down, as a gage of battle, an antique gauntlet without fingers or thumb, of white tanned skin ornamented with silk fringes and sewn work, crossed by a narrow band of leather, the fastenings of leather tags and thongs. this done, he declared himself ready to defend himself in a fight, and so to uphold his innocence, saying that he was within his rights, and that no judge could compel him to come before a jury. this was held to be good and within the law, so abraham thornton won his case, as the brother refused to pick up the gauntlet. the scandal of this procedure caused the abolishment of the trial by battle, which had remained in the country's laws from the time of henry ii. until . it was a time of foreign war and improvement in military armour and arms. richard i. favoured the cross-bow, and brought it into general use in england to be used in conjunction with the old -foot bow and the great bow feet long with the cloth-yard arrow--a bow which could send a shaft through a -inch door. for some time this military movement, together with the influence of the east, kept england from any advance or great change in costume; indeed, the orientalism reached a pitch in the age of henry iii. which, so far as costume is concerned, may be called the age of draperies. to recall such a time in pictures, one must then see visions of loose-tuniced men, with heavy cloaks; of men in short tunics with sleeves tight or loose at the wrists; of hoods with capes to them, the cape-edge sometimes cut in a round design; of soft leather boots and shoes, the boots reaching to the calf of the leg. to see in the streets bright oriental colours and cloaks edged with broad bands of pattern; to see hooded heads and bared heads on which the hair was long; to see many long-bearded men; to see old men leaning on tan-handled sticks; the sailor in a cap or coif tied under his chin; the builder, stonemason, and skilled workman in the same coif; to see, as a whole, a brilliant shifting colour scheme in which armour gleamed and leather tunics supplied a dull, fine background. among these one might see, at a town, by the shore, a thief of a sailor being carried through the streets with his head shaven, tarred and feathered. the women [illustration: {a woman of the time of richard i.; a pouch}] it is difficult to describe an influence in clothes. it is difficult nowadays to say in millinery where paris begins and london accepts. the hint of paris in a gown suggests taste; the whole of paris in a gown savours of servile imitation. no well-dressed englishwoman should, or does, look french, but she may have a subtle cachet of france if she choose. the perfection of art is to conceal the means to the end; the perfection of dress is to hide the milliner in the millinery. the ladies of richard i.'s time did not wear oriental clothes, but they had a flavour of orientalism pervading their dress--rather masculine orientalism than feminine. the long cloak with the cord that held it over the shoulders; the long, loose gown of fine colours and simple designs; the soft, low, heelless shoes; the long, unbound hair, or the hair held up and concealed under an untied wimple--these gave a touch of something foreign to the dress. away in the country there was little to dress for, and what clothes they had were made in the house. stuffs brought home from cyprus, from palestine, from asia minor, were laboriously conveyed to the house, and there made up into gowns. local smiths and silver-workers made them buckles and brooches and ornamental studs for their long belts, or clasps for their purses. a wreck would break up on the shore near by, and the news would arrive, perhaps, that some bales of stuff were washed ashore and were to be sold. [illustration: a woman of the time of richard i. ( - ) her very full cloak is kept in place by the cord which passes through loops. a large buckle holds the neck of the gown well together. the gown is ornamented with a simple diaper pattern; the hem and neck are deeply embroidered.] the female anchorites of these days were busy gossips, and from their hermitage or shelter by a bridge on the road would see the world go by, and pick up friends by means of gifts of bandages or purses made by them, despite the fact that this traffic was forbidden to them. so the lady in the country might get news of her lord abroad, and hear that certain silks and stuffs were on their way home. the gowns they wore were long, flowing and loose; they were girded about the middle with leathern or silk belts, which drew the gown loosely together. the end of the belt, after being buckled, hung down to about the knee. these gowns were close at the neck, and there fastened by a brooch; the sleeves were wide until they came to the wrist, over which they fitted closely. the cloaks were ample, and were held on by brooches or laces across the bosom. the shoes were the shape of the foot, sewn, embroidered, elaborate. the wimples were pieces of silk or white linen held to the hair in front by pins, and allowed to flow over the head at the back. there were still remaining at this date women who wore the tight-fitting gown laced at the back, and who tied their chins up in gorgets. john reigned seventeen years: - . born . married, in , to hadwisa, of gloucester, whom he divorced; married, in , to isabella of angoulême. the men there was a garment in this reign which was the keynote of costume at the time, and this was the surcoat. it had been worn over the armour for some time, but in this reign it began to be an initial part of dress. take a piece of stuff about or yards in length and about inches wide; cut a hole in the centre of this wide enough to admit of a man's head passing through, and you have a surcoat. [illustration: {a simple surcoat pattern}] [illustration: a man of the time of john ( - )] under this garment the men wore a flowing gown, the sleeves of which were so wide that they reached at the base from the shoulder to the waist, and narrowed off to a tight band at the wrist. these two garments were held together by a leather belt buckled about the middle, with the tongue of the belt hanging down. broad borders of design edged the gowns at the foot and at the neck, and heraldic devices were sewn upon the surcoats. king john himself, the quick, social, humorous man, dressed very finely. he loved the company of ladies and their love, but in spite of his love for them, he starved and tortured them, starved and beat children, was insolent, selfish, and wholly indifferent to the truth. he laughed aloud during the mass, but for all that was superstitious to the degree of hanging relics about his neck; and he was buried in a monk's cowl, which was strapped under his chin. silk was becoming more common in england, and the cultivation of the silkworm was in some measure gaining hold. in the abbot of cirencester, alexander of neckham, wrote upon the habits of the silkworm. irish cloth of red colour was largely in favour, presumably for cloaks and hoods. the general costume of this reign was very much the same as that of henry ii. and richard i.--the long loose gown, the heavy cloak, the long hair cut at the neck, the fashion of beards, the shoes, belts, hoods, and heavy fur cloaks, all much the same as before, the only real difference being in the general use of the surcoat and the very convenient looseness of the sleeves under the arms. [illustration: {a man of the time of john; an alternative cuff}] there is an inclination in writing of a costume one can visualize mentally to leave out much that might be useful to the student who knows little or nothing of the period of dress in which one is writing; so perhaps it will be better to now dress a man completely. first, long hair and a neatly-trimmed beard; over this a hood and cape or a circular cap, with a slight projection on the top of it. second, a shirt of white, like a modern soft shirt. third, tights of cloth or wool. fourth, shoes strapped over the instep or tied with thongs, or fitting at the ankle like a slipper, or boots of soft leather turned over a little at the top, at the base of the calf of the leg. [illustration: {a man of the time of john}] fifth, a gown, loosely fitting, buckled at the neck, with sleeves wide at the top and tight at the wrist, or quite loose and coming to just below the elbow, or a tunic reaching only to the knees, both gown and tunic fastened with a belt. sixth, a surcoat sometimes, at others a cloak held together by a brooch, or made for travelling with a hood. this completes an ordinary wardrobe of the time. the women as may be seen from the plate, no change in costume took place. the hair plaited and bound round the head or allowed to flow loose upon the shoulders. over the hair a gorget binding up the neck and chin. over all a wimple pinned to the gorget. a long loose gown with brooch at the neck. sleeves tight at the wrist. the whole gown held in at the waist by a belt, with one long end hanging down. shoes made to fit the shape of the foot, and very elaborately embroidered and sewn. a long cloak with buckle or lace fastening. in this reign there were thirty english towns which had carried on a trade in dyed cloths for fifty years. [illustration: a woman of the time of john ( - ) one may just see the purse beneath the cloak, where it hangs from the belt. the cloak itself is of fine diaper-patterned material.] henry the third reigned fifty-six years: - . born . married, , to eleanor of provence. the men [illustration: {a man of the time of henry iii.}] despite the fact that historians allude to the extravagance of this reign, there is little in the actual form of the costume to bear out the idea. extravagant it was in a large way, and costly for one who would appear well dressed; but the fopperies lay more in the stuffs than in the cut of the garments worn. it was an age of draperies. this age must call up pictures of bewrapped people swathed in heavy cloaks of cloth of flanders dyed with the famous flemish madder dye; of people in silk cloaks and gowns from italy; of people in loose tunics made of english cloth. this long reign of over fifty years is a transitional period in the history of clothes, as in its course the draped man developed very slowly towards the coated man, and the loose-hung clothes very gradually began to shape themselves to the body. the transition from tunic and cloak and oriental draperies is so slow and so little marked by definite change that to the ordinary observer the edwardian cotehardie seems to have sprung from nowhere: man seems to have, on a sudden, dropped his stately wraps and mantles and discarded his chrysalis form to appear in tight lines following the figure--a form infinitely more gay and alluring to the eye than the ponderous figure that walks through the end of the thirteenth century. up to and through the time from the conquest until the end of henry iii.'s reign the clothes of england appear--that is, they appear to me--to be lordly, rich, fine, but never courtier-like and elegant. [illustration: a man of the time of henry iii. ( - ) heavy cloak and fulness of dress characteristic of this time.] if one may take fashion as a person, one may say: fashion arrived in in swaddling-clothes, and so remained enveloped in rich cloaks and flowing draperies until , when the boy began to show a more active interest in life; this interest grew until, in , it developed into a distaste for heavy clothes; but the boy knew of no way as yet in which to rid himself of the trailings of his mother cloak. then, in about , he invented a cloak more like a strange, long tunic, through which he might thrust his arms for freedom; on this cloak he caused his hood to be fastened, and so made himself three garments in one, and gave himself greater ease. then dawned the fourteenth century--the youth of clothes--and our fashion boy shot up, dropped his mantles and heaviness, and came out from thence slim and youthful in a cotehardie. of such a time as this it is not easy to say the right and helpful thing, because, given a flowing gown and a capacious mantle, imagination does the rest. cut does not enter into the arena. imagine a stage picture of this time: a mass of wonderful, brilliant colours--a crowd of men in long, loose gowns or surcoats; a crowd of ladies in long, loose gowns; both men and women hung with cloaks or mantles of good stuffs and gay colours. a background of humbler persons in homespun tunics with cloth or frieze hoods over their heads. here and there a fop--out of his date, a quarter-century before his time--in a loose coat with pocket-holes in front and a buttoned neck to his coat, his shoes very pointed and laced at the sides, his hair long, curled, and bound by a fillet or encompassed with a cap with an upturned brim. [illustration: {two men of the time of henry iii.}] the beginning of the coat was this: the surcoat, which up till now was split at both sides from the shoulder to the hem, was now sewn up, leaving only a wide armhole from the base of the ribs to the shoulder. this surcoat was loose and easy, and was held in at the waist by a belt. in due time a surcoat appeared which was slightly shaped to the figure, was split up in front instead of at the sides, and in which the armholes were smaller and the neck tighter, and fastened by two or three buttons. in front of this surcoat two pocket-holes showed. this surcoat was also fastened by a belt at the waist. in common with the general feeling towards more elaborate clothes, the shoes grew beyond their normal shape, and now, no longer conforming to the shape of the foot, they became elongated at the toes, and stuck out in a sharp point; this point was loose and soft, waiting for a future day when men should make it still longer and stuff it with tow and moss. of all the shapes of nature, no shape has been so marvellously maltreated as the human foot. it has suffered as no other portion of the body has suffered: it has endured exceeding length and exceeding narrowness; it has been swelled into broad, club-like shapes; it has been artificially raised from the ground, ended off square, pressed into tight points, curved under, and finally, as to-day, placed in hard, shining, tight leather boxes. all this has been done to one of the most beautiful parts of the human anatomy by the votaries of fashion, who have in turn been delighted to expose the curves of their bodies, the round swelling of their hips, the beauties of their nether limbs, the whiteness of their bosoms, the turn of their elbows and arms, and the rotundity of their shoulders, but who have, for some mysterious reasons, been for hundreds of years ashamed of the nakedness of their feet. let me give a wardrobe for a man of this time. a hood with a cape to it; the peak of the hood made full, but about half a hand's breadth longer than necessary to the hood; the cape cut sometimes at the edge into a number of short slits. a cap of soft stuff to fit the head, with or without an upturned brim. a fillet of silk or metal for the hair. a gown made very loose and open at the neck, wide in the body, the sleeves loose or tight to the wrist. the gown long or short, on the ground or to the knee, and almost invariably belted at the waist by a long belt of leather with ornamental studs. a surcoat split from shoulder to hem, or sewn up except for a wide armhole. a coat shaped very slightly to the figure, having pocket-holes in front, small armholes, and a buttoned neck. a great oblong-shaped piece of stuff for a cloak, or a heavy, round cloak with an attached hood. tights of cloth or sewn silk--that is, pieces of silk cut and sewn to the shape of the leg. shoes with long points--about inches beyond the toes--fastened by a strap in front, or laced at the sides, or made to pull on and fit at the ankle, the last sometimes with a v-shaped piece cut away on either side. there was a tendency to beads, and a universal custom of long hair. in all such clothes as are mentioned above every rich stuff of cloth, silk, wool, and frieze may be used, and fur linings and fur hats are constant, as also are furred edges to garments. there was a slight increase of heraldic ornament, and a certain amount of foreign diaper patterning on the clothes. the women now the lady must needs begin to repair the ravages of time and touch the cheek that no longer knows the bloom of youth with--rouge. this in itself shows the change in the age. since the britons--poor, simple souls--had sought to embellish nature by staining themselves blue with woad and yellow with ochre, no paint had touched the faces of the fashionable until this reign. perhaps discreet historians had left that fact veiled, holding the secrets of the lady's toilet too sacred for the black of print; but now the murder came out. the fact in itself is part of the psychology of clothes. paint the face, and you have a hint towards the condition of fashion. again, as in the case of the men, no determined cut shows which will point to this age as one of such and such a garment or such an innovation, but--and this i would leave to your imagination--there was a distinction that was not great enough to be a difference. the gowns were loose and flowing, and were gathered in at the waist by a girdle, or, rather, a belt, the tongue of which hung down in front; but as the end of the reign approached, the gowns were shaped a little more to the figure. a lady might possess such clothes as these: the gowns i have mentioned above, the sleeves of which were tight all the way from the shoulder to the wrist, or were loose and cut short just below the elbow, showing the tight sleeves of the under-gown. shoes very elaborately embroidered and pointed at the toes. a rich cloak made oblong in shape and very ample in cut. a shaped mantle with strings to hold it together over the shoulders. [illustration: a woman of the time of henry iii. ( - ) this will show how very slight were the changes in woman's dress; a plain cloak, a plain gown, and a wimple over the head.] for the head a wimple made of white linen or perhaps of silk; this she would put above her head, leaving the neck bare. a long belt for her waist, and, if she were a great lady, a pair of gloves to wear or stick into her belt. the country folk from the conquest to the reign of edward i. [illustration: {a countryman}] until the present day the countryman has dressed in a manner most fitted to his surroundings; now the billycock hat, a devil-derived offspring from a greek source, the sunday suit of shiny black with purple trousers, the satin tie of cambridge blue, and the stiff shirt, have almost robbed the peasant of his poetical appearance. civilization seems to have arrived at our villages with a pocketful of petty religious differences, a bagful of public-houses, a bundle of penny and halfpenny papers full of stories to show the fascination of crime and--these sunday clothes. the week's workdays still show a sense of the picturesque in corduroys and jerseys or blue shirts, but the landscape is blotted with men wearing out old sunday clothes, so that the painter of rural scenes with rural characters must either lie or go abroad. as for the countrywoman, she, i am thankful to say, still retains a sense of duty and beauty, and, except on sunday, remains more or less respectably clad. chivalry prevents one from saying more. [illustration: {a countryman}] in the old days--from the conquest until the end of the thirteenth century--the peasant was dressed in perfect clothes. the villages were self-providing; they grew by then wool and hemp for the spindles. from this was made yarn for materials to be made up into coats and shirts. the homespun frieze that the peasant wore upon his back was hung by the nobleman upon his walls. the village bootmaker made, besides skin sandals to be tied with thongs upon the feet, leather trousers and belts. the mole-catcher provided skin for hats. hoods of a plain shape were made from the hides of sheep or wolves, the wool or hair being left on the hood. cloaks lined with sheepskin served to keep away the winter cold. to protect their legs from thorns the men wore bandages of twisted straw wrapped round their trousers, or leather thongs cross-gartered to the knee. the fleece of the sheep was woven in the summer into clothes of wool for the winter. gloves were made, at the beginning of the thirteenth century, of wool and soft leather; these were shaped like the modern baby's glove, a pouch for the hand and fingers and a place for the thumb. a coarse shirt was worn, over which a tunic, very loosely made, was placed, and belted at the waist. the tunic hardly varied in shape from the conquest to the time of elizabeth, being but a sack-like garment with wide sleeves reaching a little below the elbow. the hood was ample and the cloak wide. the women wore gowns of a like material to the men--loose gowns which reached to the ankles and gave scope for easy movement. they wore their hair tied up in a wimple of coarse linen. [illustration: a peasant of early england (william i.-henry iii.) his hood is made from sheepskin, the wool outside, the hem trimmed into points. his legs are bound up with garters of plaited straw. his shoes are of the roughest make of coarse leather. he has the shepherd's horn slung over his shoulder.] the people of the north were more ruggedly clothed than the southerners, and until the monks founded the sheep-farming industry in yorkshire the people of those parts had no doubt to depend for their supply of wool upon the more cultivated peoples. [illustration: {two countrymen}] picture these people, then, in very simple natural wool-coloured dresses going about their ordinary country life, attending their bees, their pigs, sheep, and cattle, eating their kele soup, made of colewort and other herbs. see them ragged and hungry, being fed by remigius, bishop of lincoln, after all the misery caused by the conquest; or despairing during the great frost of , which began on st. hilary's day, january , and lasted until march , and was so severe that the land was like iron, and could not be dug or tilled. when better days arrived, and farming was taken more seriously by the great lords, when grosseteste, the bishop of lincoln, wrote his book on farming and estate management for margaret, the dowager-countess of lincoln, then clothes and stuffs manufactured in the towns became cheaper and more easy to obtain, and the very rough skin clothes and undressed hides began to vanish from among the clothes of the country, and the rough gartered trouser gave way before cloth cut to fit the leg. on lord and peasant alike the sun of this early age sets, and with the sunset comes the warning bell--the _couvre-feu_--so, on their beds of straw-covered floors, let them sleep.... edward the first reigned thirty-five years: - . born . married, , eleanor of castile; , margaret of france. men and women until the performance of the sherborne pageant, i had never had the opportunity of seeing a mass of people, under proper, open-air conditions, dressed in the peasant costume of early england. for once traditional stage notions of costume were cast aside, and an attempt was made, which was perfectly successful, to dress people in the colours of their time. the mass of simple colours--bright reds, blues, and greens--was a perfect expression of the date, giving, as nothing else could give, an appearance of an illuminated book come to life. one might imagine that such a primary-coloured crowd would have appeared un-english, and too oriental or italian; but with the background of trees and stone walls, the english summer sky distressed with clouds, the moving cloud shadows and the velvet grass, these fierce hard colours looked distinctly english, undoubtedly of their date, and gave the spirit of the ages, from a clothes point of view, as no other colours could have done. in doing this they attested to the historical truth of the play. it seemed natural to see an english crowd one blazing jewel-work of colour, and, by the excellent taste and knowledge of the designer, the jewel-like hardness of colour was consistently kept. it was interesting to see the difference made to this crowd by the advent of a number of monks in uniform black or brown, and to see the setting in which these jewel-like peasants shone--the play of brilliant hues amid the more sombre browns and blacks, the shifting of the blues and reds, the strong notes of emerald green--all, like the symmetrical accidents of the kaleidoscope, settling into their places in perfect harmony. the entire scene bore the impress of the spirit of historical truth, and it is by such pageants that we can imagine coloured pictures of an england of the past. again, we could observe the effect of the light-reflecting armour, cold, shimmering steel, coming in a play of colour against the background of peasants, and thereby one could note the exact appearance of an ordinary english day of such a date as this of which i now write, the end of the thirteenth century. the mournful procession bearing the body of queen eleanor of castile, resting at waltham, would show a picture in the same colours as the early part of the sherborne pageant. colour in england changed very little from the conquest to the end of the reign of edward i.; the predominant steel and leather, the gay, simple colours of the crowds, the groups of one colour, as of monks and men-at-arms, gave an effect of constantly changing but ever uniform colours and designs of colour, exactly, as i said before, like the shifting patterns of the kaleidoscope. it was not until the reign of edward ii. that the effect of colour changed and became pied, and later, with the advent of stamped velvets, heavily designed brocades, and the shining of satins, we get that general effect best recalled to us by memories of italian pictures; we get, as it were, a varnish of golden-brown over the crude beauties of the earlier times. it is intensely important to a knowledge of costume to remember the larger changes in the aspect of crowds from the colour point of view. a knowledge of history--by which i do not mean a parrot-like acquirement of dates and acts of parliament, but an insight into history as a living thing--is largely transmitted to us by pictures; and, as pictures practically begin for us with the tudors, we must judge of coloured england from illuminated books. in these you will go from white, green, red, and purple, to such colours as i have just described: more vivid blues, reds, and greens, varied with brown, black, and the colour of steel, into the chequered pages of pied people and striped dresses, into rich-coloured people, people in black; and as you close the book and arrive at the wall-picture, back to the rich-coloured people again. [illustration: {three men of the time of edward i.}] the men of this time, it must be remembered, were more adapted to the arts of war than to those of peace; and the knight who was up betimes and into his armour, and to bed early, was not a man of so much leisure that he could stroll about in gay clothes of an inconvenient make. his principal care was to relieve himself of his steel burden and get into a loose gown, belted at the waist, over which, if the weather was inclement, he would wear a loose coat. this coat was made with a hood attached to it, very loose and easy about the neck and very wide about the body; its length was a matter of choice, but it was usual to wear it not much below the knees. the sleeves were also wide and long, having at a convenient place a hole cut, through which the arms could be placed. the men wore their hair long and brushed out about the ears--long, that is, to the nape of the neck. they also were most commonly bearded, with or without a moustache. upon their heads they wore soft, small hats, with a slight projection at the top, the brim of the hat turned up, and scooped away in front. fillets of metal were worn about the hair with some gold-work upon them to represent flowers; or they wore, now and again, real chaplets of flowers. there was an increase of heraldic ornament in this age, and the surcoats were often covered with a large device. these surcoats, as in the previous reign, were split from shoulder to bottom hem, or were sewn up below the waist; for these, thin silk, thick silk (called samite), and sendal, or thick stuff, was used, as also for the gowns. the shoes were peaked, and had long toes, but nothing extravagant, and they were laced on the outside of the foot. the boots came in a peak up to the knee. the peasant was still very norman in appearance, hooded, cloaked, with ill-fitting tights and clumsy shoes; his dress was often of bright colours on festivals, as was the gown and head-handkerchief of his wife. thus you see that, for ordinary purposes, a man dressed in some gown which was long, loose, and comfortable, the sleeves of it generally tight for freedom, so that they did not hang about his arm, and his shoes, hat, cloak, everything, was as soft and free as he could get them. the woman also followed in the lines of comfort: her under-gown was full and slack at the waist, the sleeves were tight, and were made to unbutton from wrist to elbow; they stopped short at the wrist with a cuff. her upper gown had short, wide sleeves, was fastened at the back, and was cut but roughly to the figure. the train of this gown was very long. they sought for comfort in every particular but one: for though i think the gorget very becoming, i think that it must have been most distressing to wear. this gorget was a piece of white linen wrapped about the throat, and pinned into its place; the ends were brought up to meet a wad of hair over the ears and there fastened, in this way half framing the face. [illustration: {four types of hairstyle and head-dresses for women}] the hair was parted in the middle, and rolled over pads by the ears, so as to make a cushion on which to pin the gorget. this was the general fashion. now, the earlier form of head-dress gave rise to another fashion. the band which had been tied round the head to keep the wimple in place was enlarged and stiffened with more material, and so became a round linen cap, wider at the top than at the bottom. sometimes this cap was hollow-crowned, so that it was possible to bring the wimple under the chin, fasten it into place with the cap, and allow it to fall over the top of the cap in folds; sometimes the cap was solidly crowned, and was pleated; sometimes the cap met the gorget, and no hair showed between them. [illustration: a man and woman of the time of edward i. ( - ) the sleeves of the man's overcoat through which he has thrust his arms are complete sleeves, and could be worn in the ordinary manner but that they are too long to be convenient; hence the opening.] what we know as 'the true lovers' knot' was sometimes used as an ornament sewn on to dresses or gowns. you may know the effigy of queen eleanor in westminster abbey, and if you do, you will see an example of the very plainest dress of the time. she has a shaped mantle over her shoulders, which she is holding together by a strap; the long mantle or robe is over a plain, loosely-pleated gown, which fits only at the shoulders; her hair is unbound, and she wears a trefoil crown upon her head. [illustration: {two women of the time of edward i.}] the changes in england can best be seen by such monuments as edward caused to be erected in memory of his beloved wife. the arts of peace were indeed magnificent, and though the knight was the man of war, he knew how to choose his servant in the great arts. picture such a man as alexander de abyngdon, 'le imaginator,' who with william de ireland carved the statues of the queen for five marks each--such a man, with his gown hitched up into his belt, his hood back on his shoulders, watching his statue put into place on the cross at charing. he is standing by roger de crundale, the architect of that cross, and he is directing the workmen who are fixing the statue.... a little apart you may picture master william tousell, goldsmith, of london, a very important person, who is making a metal statue of the queen and one of her father-in-law, henry iii., for westminster abbey. at the back men and women in hoods and wimples, in short tunics and loose gowns. a very brightly-coloured picture, though the dyes of the dresses be faded by rain and sun--they are the finer colours for that: master tousell, no doubt, in a short tunic for riding, with his loose coat on him, the heavy hood back, a little cap on his head; the workmen with their tunics off, a twist of coloured stuff about their waists, their heads bare. it is a beautiful love-story this, of fierce edward, the terror of scotland, for eleanor, whom he 'cherished tenderly,' and 'whom dead we do not cease to love.' the same man, who could love so tenderly and well, who found a fantastic order of chivalry in the round table of kenilworth, could there swear on the body of a swan the death of comyn, regent of scotland, and could place the countess of buchan, who set the crown upon the head of bruce, in a cage outside one of the towers of berwick. despite the plain cut of the garments of this time, and the absence of superficial trimmings, it must have been a fine sight to witness one hundred lords and ladies, all clothed in silk, seated about the round table of kenilworth. edward the second reigned twenty years: - . born . married, , isabella of france. men and women whether the changes in costume that took place in this reign were due to enterprising tailors, or to an exceptionally hot summer, or to the fancy of the king, or to the sprightliness of piers gaveston, it is not possible to say. each theory is arguable, and, no doubt, in some measure each theory is right, for, although men followed the new mode, ladies adhered to their earlier fashions. take the enterprising tailor--call him an artist. the old loose robe was easy of cut; it afforded no outlet for his craft; it cut into a lot of material, was easily made at home--it was, in fact, a baggy affair that fitted nowhere. now, is it not possible that some tailor-artist, working upon the vanity of a lordling who was proud of his figure, showed how he could present this figure to its best advantage in a body-tight garment which should reach only to his hips? [illustration: {a man of the time of edward ii.}] take the hot summer. you may or may not know that a hot summer some years ago suddenly transformed the city of london from a place of top-hats and black coats into a place of flannel jackets and hats of straw, so that it is now possible for a man to arrive at his city office clad according to the thermometer, without incurring the severe displeasure of the fathers of the city. it seems that somewhere midway between and men suddenly dropped their long robes, loosely tied at the waist, and appeared in what looked uncommonly like vests, and went by the name of 'cotehardies.' it must have been surprising to men who remembered england clothed in long and decorous robes to see in their stead these gay, debonair, tight vests of pied cloth or parti-coloured silk. piers gaveston, the gay, the graceless but graceful favourite, clever at the tournament, warlike and vain, may have instituted this complete revolution in clothes with the aid of the weak king. [illustration: {two types of cotehardie}] [illustration: {two types of tunic; two types of collar}] sufficient, perhaps, to say that, although long robes continued to be worn, cotehardies were all the fashion. there was a general tendency to exaggeration. the hood was attacked by the dandies, and, instead of its modest peak, they caused to be added a long pipe of the material, which they called a 'liripipe.' every quaint thought and invention for tying up this liripipe was used: they wound it about their heads, and tucked the end into the coil; they put it about their necks, and left the end dangling; they rolled it on to the top of their heads. [illustration: {four types of shoe; two types of hat}] the countryman, not behindhand in quaint ideas, copied the form of a bishop's hood, and appeared with his cloth hood divided into two peaks, one on either side of his head. [illustration: {four types of hood}] this new cotehardie was cut in several ways. strictly speaking, it was a cloth or silk vest, tight to the body, and close over the hips; the length was determined by the fancy of the wearer. it also had influence on the long robes still worn, which, although full below the waist to the feet, now more closely fitted the body and shoulders. the fashionable sleeves were tight to the elbow, and from there hanging and narrow, showing a sleeve belonging to an undergarment. the cloak also varied in shape. the heavy travelling-cloak, with the hood attached, was of the old pattern, long, shapeless, with or without hanging sleeves, loose at the neck, or tightly buttoned. then there was a hooded cloak, with short sleeves, or with the sleeves cut right away, a sort of hooded surcoat. then there were two distinct forms of cape: one a plain, circular cape, not very deep, which had a plain, round, narrow collar of fur or cloth, and two or three buttons at the neck; and there was the round cape, without a collar, but with turned back lapels of fur. this form of cape is often to be seen. the boots and shoes were longer at the toes, and were sometimes buttoned at the sides. the same form of hats remain, but these were now treated with fur brims. round the waist there was always a belt, generally of plain black leather; from it depended a triangular pouch, through which a dagger was sometimes stuck. [illustration: a man and woman of the time of edward ii. ( - ) notice the great length of liripipe on the man's hood, also his short tunic of rayed cloth, his hanging sleeve and his under-sleeve. the woman has her hair dressed in two side-plaits, to which the gorget or neckcloth is pinned.] the time of parti-coloured clothes was just beginning, and the cotehardie was often made from two coloured materials, dividing the body in two parts by the colour difference; it was the commencement of the age which ran its course during the next reign, when men were striped diagonally, vertically, and in angular bars; when one leg was blue and the other red. [illustration: {a woman of the time of edward ii.; a cap}] [illustration: {a woman of the time of edward ii.}] you will note that all work was improving in this reign when you hear that the king paid the wife of john de bureford marks for an embroidered cope, and that a great green hanging was procured for king's hall, london, for solemn feasts--a hanging of wool, worked with figures of kings and beasts. the ladies made little practical change in their dress, except to wear an excess of clothes against the lack of draperies indulged in by the men. it is possible to see three garments, or portions of them, in many dresses. first, there was a stuff gown, with tight sleeves buttoned to the elbow from the wrist; this sometimes showed one or two buttons under the gorget in front, and was fitted, but not tightly, to the figure. it fell in pleated folds to the feet, and had a long train; this was worn alone, we may suppose, in summer. second, there was a gown to go over this other, which had short, wide sleeves, and was full in the skirts. one or other of these gowns had a train, but if the upper gown had a train the under one had not, and _vice versâ_. third, there was a surcoat like to a man's, not over-long or full, with the sleeve-holes cut out wide; this went over both or either of the other gowns. [illustration: {two women of the time of edward ii.; a wimple with fillet and gorget}] upon the head they wore the wimple, the fillet, and about the throat the gorget. the arrangement of the wimple and fillet were new, for the hair was now plaited in two tails, and these brought down straight on either side of the face; the fillet was bound over the wimple in order to show the plait, and the gorget met the wimple behind the plait instead of over it. the older fashion of hair-dressing remained, and the gorget was pinned to the wads of hair over the ears, without the covering of the wimple. sometimes the fillet was very wide, and placed low on the head over a wimple tied like a gorget; in this way the two side-plaits showed only in front and appeared covered at side-face, while the wimple and broad fillet hid all the top hair of the head. very rarely a tall, steeple head-dress was worn over the wimple, with a hanging veil; but this was not common, and, indeed, it is not a mark of the time, but belongs more properly to a later date. however, i have seen such a head-dress drawn at or about this time, so must include it. the semicircular mantle was still in use, held over the breast by means of a silk cord. it may seem that i describe these garments in too simple a way, and the rigid antiquarian would have made comment on courtepys, on gamboised garments, on cloth of gaunt, or cloth of dunster. i may tell you that a gambeson was the quilted tunic worn under armour, and, for the sake of those whose tastes run into the arid fields of such research, that you may call it wambasium, gobison, wambeys, gambiex, gaubeson, or half a dozen other names; but, to my mind, you will get no further with such knowledge. falding is an irish frieze; cyclas is a gown; courtepy is a short gown; kirtle--again, if we know too much we cannot be accurate--kirtle may be a loose gown, or an apron, or a jacket, or a riding-cloak. the tabard was an embroidered surcoat--that is, a surcoat on which was displayed the heraldic device of the owner. let us close this reign with its mournful end, when piers gaveston feels the teeth of the black dog of warwick, and is beheaded on blacklow hill; when hugh le despenser is hanged on a gibbet; when the queen lands at orwell, conspiring against her husband, and the king is a prisoner at kenilworth. here at kenilworth the king hears himself deposed. 'edward, once king of england,' is hereafter accounted 'a private person, without any manner of royal dignity.' here edward, in a plain black gown, sees the steward of his household, sir thomas blount, break his staff of office, done only when a king is dead, and discharge all persons engaged in the royal service. parliament decided to take this strong measure in january; in the following september edward was murdered in cold blood at berkeley castle. edward the third reigned fifty years: - . born . married, , philippa of hainault. the men kings were kings in those days; they managed england as a nobleman managed his estates. edward i., during the year , changed his abode on an average three times a fortnight, visiting in one year seventy-five towns and castles. edward ii. increased his travelling retinue until, in the fourth year of the reign of edward iii., the crowd who accompanied that king had grown to such proportions that he was forced to introduce a law forbidding knights and soldiers to bring their wives and families with them. edward iii., with his gay company, would not be stopped as he rode out of one of the gates of london to pay toll of a penny a cart and a farthing a horse, nor would any of his train. this toll, which included threepence a week on gravel and sand carts going in or out of the city, was raised to help pay for street repairs, the streets and roads of that time being in a continual state of slush, mud, and pits of water. let us imagine edward iii. and his retinue passing over wakefield bridge before he reduced his enormous company. the two priests, william kaye and william bull, stand waiting for the king outside the new saint mary's chapel. first come the guard of four-and-twenty archers in the king's livery; then a marshal and his servants (the other king's marshal has ridden by some twenty-four hours ago); then comes the chancellor and his clerks, and with them a good horse carrying the rolls (this was stopped in the fourth year of edward's reign); then they see the chamberlain, who will look to it that the king's rooms are decent and in order, furnished with benches and carpets; next comes the wardrobe master, who keeps the king's accounts; and, riding beside the king, the first personal officer of the kingdom, the seneschal; after that a gay company of knights and their ladies, merchants, monks dressed as ordinary laymen for travelling, soldiers of fortune, women, beggars, minstrels--a motley gang of brightly-clothed people, splashed with the mud and dust of the cavalcade. [illustration: {two men of the time of edward iii.}] remembering the condition of the day, the rough travelling, the estates far apart, the dirty inns, one must not imagine this company spick and span. the ladies are riding astride, the gentlemen are in civil garments or half armour. let us suppose that it is summer, and but an hour or so after a heavy shower. the heat is oppressive: the men have slung their hats at their belts, and have pushed their hoods from their heads; their heavy cloaks, which they donned hastily against the rain, are off now, and hanging across their saddles. these cloaks vary considerably in shape. here we may see a circular cloak, split down the right side from the neck, it buttons on the shoulder. here is another circular cloak, jagged at the edge; this buttons at the neck. one man is riding in a cloak, parti-coloured, which is more like a gown, as it has a hood attached to it, and reaches down to his feet. [illustration: {a man of the time of edward iii.; two types of hood}] nearly every man is alike in one respect--clean-shaven, with long hair to his neck, curled at the ears and on the forehead. [illustration: {a man of the time of edward iii.}] most men wear the cotehardie, the well-fitting garment buttoned down the front, and ending over the hips. there is every variety of cotehardie--the long one, coming nearly to the knees; the short one, half-way up the thigh. some are buttoned all the way down the front, and others only with two or three buttons at the neck. round the hips of every man is a leather belt, from which hangs a pouch or purse. some of these purses are beautiful with stitched arabesque designs; some have silver and enamel clasps; some are plain black cloth or natural-coloured leather; nearly all, however, are black. the hoods over the men's heads vary in a number of ways: some are very full in the cape, which is jagged at the hem; some are close about the neck and are plain; some have long liripipes falling from the peak of the hood, and others have a liripipe of medium length. there are two or three kinds of hat worn, and felt and fur caps of the usual shape--round, with a rolled-up brim and a little peak on the top. some of the hats are tall-crowned, round hats with a close, thick brim--these have strings through the brim so that the hat may be strung on the belt when it is not in use; other hats are of the long, peaked shape, and now and again one may see a feather stuck into them; a third variety shows the brim of a high-crowned hat, castellated. among the knights you will notice the general tendency to parti-coloured clothes, not only divided completely into halves of two colours, but striped diagonally, vertically, and horizontally, so giving a very diverse appearance to the mass of colour. here and there a man is riding in his silk surcoat, which is embroidered with his coat of arms or powdered with his badge. here are cloth, velvet, silk, and woollen stuffs, all of fine dyes, and here is some fine silk cotehardie with patterns upon it gilt in gold leaf, and there is a magnificent piece of stuff, rich in design, from the looms of palermo. among the merchants we shall see some more sober colours and quieter cut of clothes; the archers in front are in leather tunics, and these quiet colours in front, and the respectable merchants behind, enclose the brilliant blaze of colour round the king. behind all come the peasants, minstrels, mummers, and wandering troupes of acrobats; here is a bearward in worn leather cloak and hood, his legs strapped at the ankle, his shoes tied on with thongs; here is a woman in a hood, open at the neck and short at the back: she wears a smocked apron; here is a beggar with a hood of black stuff over his head--a hood with two peaks, one on either side of his head; and again, here is a minstrel with a patched round cloak, and a mummer with a two-peaked hood, the peaks stuffed out stiff, with bells jangling on the points of them. again, among this last group, we must notice the old-fashioned loose tunics, the coif over the head, tied under the chin, wooden-soled shoes and pouch-gloves. [illustration: {three men of the time of edward iii.}] there are some norfolk merchants and some merchants from flanders among the crowd, and they talk as best they can in a sort of french-latin-english jargon among themselves; they speak of england as the great wool-producing country, the tax on which produced £ , in one year; they talk of the tax, its uses and abuses, and how norfolk was proved the richest county in wool by the tax of . the people of england little thought to hear artillery used in a field of battle so soon as , when on august it was used for the first time, nor did they realize the horrors that were to come in , when the great plague was to sweep over england and kill half the population. [illustration: {a man of the time of edward iii.}] there is one man in this crowd who has been marked by everybody. he is a courtier, dressed in the height of fashion. his cotehardie fits him very well: the sleeves are tight from elbow to wrist, as are the sleeves of most of his fellows--some, however, still wear the hanging sleeve and show an under-sleeve--and his sleeve is buttoned from wrist to elbow. he wears the newest fashion upon his arm, the tippet, a piece of silk which is made like a detachable cuff with a long streamer hanging from it; his cotehardie is of medium length, jagged at the bottom, and it is of the finest sicilian silk, figured with a fine pattern; round his hips he wears a jewelled belt. his hood is parti-coloured and jagged at the edge and round his face, and his liripipe is very long. his tights are parti-coloured, and his shoes, buttoned up the front, are long-toed and are made of red-and-white chequered leather. by him rides a knight, also in the height of fashion, but less noticeable: he has his cotehardie skirt split up in front and turned back; he has not any buttons on his sleeves, and his belt about his waist holds a large square pouch; his shoes are a little above his ankles, and are buckled over the instep. his hair is shorter than is usual, and it is not curled. [illustration: {a man of the time of edward iii.; three types of head-gear}] as we observe these knights, a party of armed knights come riding down the road towards the cavalcade; they have come to greet the king. these men have ridden through the rain, and now, as they come closer, one can see that their armour is already red with rust. [illustration: {a hat}] so the picture should remain on your mind, as i have imagined it for you: the knights in armour and surcoats covered with their heraldic device; the archers; the gay crowd of knights in parti-coloured clothes; the king, in his cotehardie of plain black velvet and his black beaver hat, just as he looked after calais in later years; the merchants; the servants in parti-coloured liveries of their masters' colours; the tattered crowd behind; and, with the aid of the drawings, you should be able to visualize the picture. meanwhile edward will arrive at his destination, and to soothe him before sleep, he will read out of the book of romances, illustrated by isabella, the nun of aumbresbury, for which he had paid £ s. d., which sum was heavy for those days, when £ would buy twenty-four swans. £ s. d. is about £ of our money to-day. the women 'i looked on my left half as the lady taught me, and was aware of a woman worthily clothed, trimmed with fur, the finest on earth, crowned with a crown, the king had none better. handsomely her fingers were fretted with gold wire, and thereon red rubies, as red as any hot coal, and diamonds of dearest price, and double manner of sapphires, orientals and green beryls.... her robe was full rich, of red scarlet fast dyed, with bands of red gold and of rich stones; her array ravished me, such richness saw i never.' _piers the plowman._ there are two manuscripts in existence the illuminations in which give the most wonderfully pictorial idea of this time; they are the manuscript marked ms. bodl., misc. , in the bodleian library at oxford, and the loutrell psalter in the british museum. the loutrell psalter is, indeed, one of the most notable books in the world; it is an example of illumination at the height of that art; it has for illustrator a person, not only of a high order of intelligence, but a person possessed of the very spirit of gothic humour, who saw rural england, not only with the eyes of an artist, but with the eyes of a gossiping philosopher. [illustration: a man of the time of edward iii. ( - ) round his arms you will see the curious tippet, the jagged ends of which hang down; these are the remains of the pendant sleeves. his shoes are buttoned in front.] both this book and the book in the bodleian library were illustrated by persons who were charged to the brim with the spirit of their age; they were chaucerian in their gay good-humour and in their quaint observation, and they have that moral knowledge and outspoken manner which characterize william langland, whose 'piers the plowman' i have quoted above. with chaucer, langland, and these illuminators we have a complete exhibition of english life of these times. the pulse of rural england is felt by them in a most remarkable way; the religion, language, thought, politics, the whole trend of rural, provincial, and court life may be gathered from their books. the drawings in the loutrell psalter were completed before the year , and they give us all that wonderful charm, that intimate knowledge, which we enjoy in the 'canterbury pilgrims' and the 'vision of piers plowman.' there seems to be something in road-travelling which levels all humanity; there is no road in england which does not throb with history; there is no poem or story written about roads in england which does not in some way move the englishness in us. chaucer and langland make comrades of us as they move along the highway, and with them we meet, on terms of intimacy, all the characters of the fourteenth century. with these illuminators of the loutrell psalter and the bodleian ms. we see actually the stream of english life along a crowded thoroughfare. in these books we may see drawings of every form of agricultural life and manorial existence: we see the country sports, the bear-baiting, and the cock-fighting; we see the harvesters with straw hats, scythes, and reaping-hooks; we see carters, carriers, and great carriages, all depicted in a manner which we can only compare, in later years, to the broad humour of hogarth; and, as we turn the priceless pages over, the whole fourteenth-century world passes before our eyes--japers and jugglers; disours and jesters; monk, priest, pilgrim, and pardoner; spendthrift and wench; hermits, good and evil; lords, ladies, and kings. i have written of the men and their dress--how they were often--very often--dirty, dusty, and travel-stained--of the red-rusted armour and the striped and chequered clothes, and now i must write of the women and the manner of their dress. of the time, you must remember that it was the time of chivalry, when there was a round table of knights at windsor, founded in ; when the order of the garter was founded; when tiltings and all manner of tournaments were at their height; and you listen to the minstrels of king edward's household playing upon the trumpet, the cytole, the pipe, the taberet, the clarion, and the fiddle. st. george, the primate of egypt in the fourth century, had now risen to public esteem and notice, so that he became in this time not only the patron saint of chivalry, but the tutelar saint of england. boys were taken from the care of the ladies of the household at the age of seven, when they became pages to knights, and were sworn to devote themselves to the graces and favours of some girl. at fourteen the boy became a squire, and at twenty-one, if he were possessed of a rental of £ a year in land, he made his fast and vigil, and was afterward dubbed knight and given his spurs. [illustration: {twelve hair arrangements for women}] the noteworthy point about a woman of this reign was her hair. the queen herself wore an elaborate mode of coiffure for that time; she wore a metal fillet round her head, to which was attached two cases, circular in shape, of gold fretwork, ornamented with precious stones. she wore her hair unplaited, and brought in two parts from the back of her head, and as far as one can see, pushed into the jewelled cases. [illustration: {five sleeve types for women}] the most general form of hair-dressing was an excess on the mode of the previous reign, a richness of jewel-work, an abundance of gold wire. it was usual to divide the hair into two plaits, and arrange these on either side of the face, holding them in their place by means of a fillet; they might be worn folded straight up by the face, or at an angle, but they were never left hanging; if hair was left loose it was not plaited, but flowing. the gorget, or throat cloth, was still in general use, and it was attached to the hair by very elaborate-headed pins. sometimes the hair, dressed with the gorget, was divided into four plaits, two on either side of the face, and fastened horizontally. the wimple of silk or linen was very generally worn. a caul of gold net came into fashion, but not until the end of the reign. the ladies were great upon hunting and hawking, and this must have been a convenient fashion to keep the hair in order. some wore a white silk or linen cap, so shaped as to include and cover the two side-plaits and combine a gorget and wimple in one. pointed frontals of pearls were worn across the forehead, and fillets of silk or linen were so tied that long ends hung down the back. [illustration: {four women of the time of edward iii.}] yellow hair was much esteemed, and ladies who were not favoured by nature, brought saffron to their aid, and by such efforts brought nature into line with art. there was the general custom of wearing the surcoat in imitation of the men, a garment i have described frequently--a slightly-fitting garment without sleeves--you will see how this grew later into a gorgeous affair. these surcoats were sometimes of fine cloth of gold covered with an intricate, delicate pattern in which beasts, birds, and foliage mingled in arabesque. under this surcoat was a plainer, better-fitting garment, made sometimes of the barred and rayed material so common to the men, or of velvet, cloth, or silk, in plain colours, green and red being then very favourite; ermines and many other furs were used to border these gowns. sometimes you may see that this gown had sleeves short at the elbow, exposing a different coloured under-sleeve, buttoned from elbow to wrist; at other times--in fact, among all fashionable persons--the curious fashion of the tippet, or long streamer, was worn. i have carefully described this fashion in the previous chapter. [illustration: {a woman of the time of edward iii.}] the plain gown with tight sleeves was most in use, and the skirts of this gown were very voluminous, and had either pockets or holes in the front of them; the holes enabled the wearer to reach the purse hanging from a girdle which encircled the waist of the under-dress. these gowns were generally buttoned in front, from neck to waist, or they were laced. they also wore a heavier gown which reached just below the knee, showing the skirts of the under-gown; the heavy gowns were often fur-lined, and had loose wide sleeves to the elbow. there was at this time a curious fur or cloth cape in use, longer behind than in front--in fact, it varied with the taste of the owner. it was cut in even scallops all round; i say even to show that they were sewn-edged, not jagged and rough-edged. any pair of these scallops might be longer than any other pair. ladies wore these capes for hunting, and ornamented the ends with bells. the shoes of the women were not very exaggerated in length, but, as a rule, fitted well to the foot and came out in a slight point. you may use for this reign shoes buckled across the instep, laced at the side, or buttoned up the front. for riding and sport the ladies wore the hood, and sometimes a broad round hat over it, or the peaked hat. the countrywoman wore an ill-fitting gown with tight sleeves, an apron, and an open hood. [illustration: a woman of the time of edward iii. ( - ) you will notice that the woman also wears the tippet on her arm. the gorget is high about her neck, and is held up by pins to her plaited hair.] imagine london in the year of the third great pestilence, . it is october, and the worst of the pestilence is over; john chichester, the mayor, is riding through the streets about some great affairs; many knights and ladies pass by. it is raining hard after the long drought of the summer, but, despite the rain, many citizens are abroad to see the doings in the city, and one may see the bright parti-coloured clothes of the lords and ladies, and here and there, as a cloak is blown back, a glimpse of rich-patterned cloth of gold. perhaps will langland--long will--a gaunt man of thirty-seven, is brushing past a young man of twenty-nine, chaucer, going to his work. silk dresses and frieze gowns, velvet and homespun, hurry along as the rain falls more heavily, and after a while the street becomes quite deserted. then nothing but the dreary monotony of the rain falling from the gables will come to the room of the knight's lady as she lies sick of small-pox. john de gaddesden, the king's doctor, has prescribed for her that she must lie clothed in scarlet red in a room of that colour, with bed-hangings of that same colour, and so she must lie, without much comfort, while the raindrops, falling down the wide chimney, drip on the logs in the fire and make them hiss. richard the second reigned twenty-two years: - . born . married, , anne of bohemia; , isabella of france. the men the king himself was a leader of fashion; he had by grace of nature the form, face, and manner which go to make a dandy. the nobles followed the king; the merchants followed the nobles after their kind; the peasants were still clothed in the simplest of garments, having retained the norman tunic with the sleeves pushed back over the wrist, kept the loose boots and straw gaiters, and showed the improvement in their class by the innovation of gloves made as a thumb with a pouch for the fingers, and pouches for money of cloth and leather hung on a leather belt. this proved the peasant to be a man of some substance by need of his wallet. everyone wore the chaperon--a cap and cape combined. we have now arrived at the reign which made such a difference to the labourer and workman--such as the blacksmith and miller--and in consequence altered and improved the character of his clothes. the poll-tax of brought the labourer into individual notice for the first time, and thus arose the free labourer in england and the first labour pamphlets. we have two word-pictures of the times of the greatest value, for they show both sides of the coin: the one by the courtly and comfortable chaucer, the other by long will--william langland, or piers the plowman. picture the two along the strand--long will singing his dirges for hire, and chaucer, his hand full of parchments, bustling past. one must remember that, as always, many people dressed out of the fashion; that many men still wore the cotehardie, a well-fitting garment reaching half-way down the thigh, with tight sleeves coming over the hand, decorated with buttons under the sleeve from the elbow to the little finger. this garment had a belt, which was placed round the hips; and this was adorned in many ways: principally it was composed of square pieces of metal joined together, either of silver, or enamel in copper, or of gold set with precious stones. [illustration: {a cotehardie; hose}] [illustration: {three types of footwear; a coat}] the cotehardie was generally made of a pied cloth in horizontal or diagonal bars, in silk or other rich fabric. with this garment the chaperon (to be more fully described) was worn as a hood; the legs were in tights, and the feet in pointed shoes a little longer than the foot. a pouch or wallet depended from the belt, and a sheath containing two daggers, an anelace, and a misericorde. the pouch was a very rich affair, often of stamped gilded leather or sewn velvet--ornamented, in fact, according to the purse of the wearer. in winter such a man as he of the cotehardie would wear an overcoat with an attached hood. this coat was made in various forms: one form with wide sleeves the same width all the way down, under which were slits in the coat to enable the wearer to place his hands inside, as in the modern raglan coat-pocket. another form was made very loose and without sleeves, but with the same slits at the side; it was buckled round the waist on occasion by a broad leather belt, very plain. the common heavy travelling-coat was made in this way, and it was only the very fashionable who wore the houppelande for riding or travelling. sometimes such a man would wear in winter about the town a cloak fastened over the right shoulder with three or four buttons, leaving the right arm free; such a cloak is seen in the brass of robert attelathe, mayor of lynn. [illustration: {a draped cloak and simple pattern for it}] in travelling, our gentleman would wear, often in addition to his chaperon, a peaked hat of cloth, high in the crown, with a brim turned up all round, ending in a long peak in front--the same hat that we always associate with dick whittington. his gloves would be of leather, often ornamented with designs on the back, or, if he were a knight, with his badge. on this occasion he would wear his sword in a baldric, a long belt over his right shoulder and under his left arm, from which hung also his daggers. although i am not dealing even with personal arms, one must remember, in representing these people, that daggers were almost as necessary a part of dress as boots or shoes, and that personal comfort often depended upon a skilful use of that natty weapon; the misericorde was used to give the _coup de grâce_. the farmer in harvest-time wore, if he did not wear a hood, a peaked hat or a round, large-brimmed straw hat. [illustration: the houppelande or peliçon.] we may now arrive at the fashionable man, whose eccentricities in clothes were the object of much comment. how the houppelande or peliçon actually was originated i do not know, but it came about that men suddenly began to clothe themselves in this voluminous and awkward garment. it was a long loose-fitting robe, made to fit on the shoulders only, having very long loose sleeves, varying according to the whim of the owner. these sleeves were cut at the edges into the forms of leaves or other designs, and were lined, as the houppelande, with fur or silk. it will be seen that such a garment to suit all weathers and temperatures must be made of various materials and lined accordingly. these materials were almost invariably powdered with badges or some other device, sometimes with a flowing pattern embracing an heraldic design or motto. the sleeves turned back disclosed the sleeve of a cotehardie underneath, with the little buttons running from the elbow to the first knuckle of the little finger. the houppelande had a very high collar, coming well up to the middle of the back of the head; it was buttoned up to the chin in front, and the collar was often turned down half-way, the two top buttons being left undone. it was fastened about the middle by a thin leather belt, very long; this was buckled, and the long end turned under and brought over to hang down; the end was ornamented with many devices--figures of saints, heraldic figures, or other ornaments. sometimes the entire belt was sewn with small devices in precious metal or enamels. now, to be in the height of fashion, one either wore the houppelande extremely long in the skirt or extremely short--so short, in fact, as to leave but a frill of it remaining below the waist--leaving the sleeves still their abnormal length. pretty fads, as tying a dagger round the neck, or allowing it to hang low between the legs, or placing it in the small of the back, were much in vogue. [illustration: {two types of long shoe}] every form of beard or moustache was used, and the hair was worn long to the nape of the neck. by the dandy it was elaborately pressed and curled at the ends. bands of real or artificial flowers encircled the heads of the dandies, the artificial flowers made in enamels or gold. rings were worn of great size on thumb and finger; long staffs with elaborate heads were carried. under the houppelande was the skirt and the cotehardie of thin material, and on the legs hose, pied or powdered, made of silk or cloth cut to the form and sewn. [illustration: a man of the time of richard ii. ( - ) his chaperon, or hood, is twisted and tied about his head with the liripipe, the elongated peak of his hood, thrown over his shoulders.] the shoes were of great length, with long points; rarely we find examples of the absurd fashion of wearing the points so long that they were tied back to the knees, but often they were so long that the points came out inches beyond the toe. they were made of every material, sewn with pearls on cloth or velvet, stamped with gold on leather, or the leather raised. the toes were sometimes stuffed hard, sometimes allowed to hang limp. for walking in the streets high clogs of wood were used, made with long pointed ends to support the shoes. i may add that the hose were gartered below the knee to hold them taut with rich garters, but if a man were a garter knight he wore but the garter of his order. [illustration: {evolution of the hood to the chaperon}] much in favour with this court of gallants were rich chains about the neck, having for pendant their badge or some saint's figure in gold or silver. [illustration: {five types of head-wear}] now we come to the most interesting and universal fashion of wearing the chaperon, which i am anxious to show in its various stages. it began with a cape and a hood worn separately; these were joined for convenience so that a man might put on both at once. this fashion held for many years, and then the fashionable man in search of novelty caused the peak of the hood to be lengthened until it grew to reach to his feet. then he cast about for a fresh mode for his head-wear, and so he twisted the whole affair about his head, leaving the end of the cape, which was jagged at the edge, protruding like a cockscomb. time went on, and he avoided the trouble of tying this himself, so he had the hat made up all ready tied, much in the manner of a turban. finally, the chaperon grew into disuse, and it remains to-day a curious reminder in the cockade worn by coachmen (it is almost a replica in miniature, with the round twist and the jagged edge sticking up above the hat) and on the cloaks of the knights of the garter, where it is carefully made, and forms a cape on the right shoulder, and in the present head-dress of the french lawyer, a relic of the middle ages. the chains worn about the neck remain as badges of office in mayors and judges and in various orders. the button worn by the members of the legion of honour and other foreign orders is, i believe, an idea resulting from the cockade, which, of course, was at the beginning the chaperon in the colours of the servant's lord. [illustration: {a houppelande showing the leg opening}] when one knows a custom so well, one is apt to leave out many things in describing it. for example, the houppelande was open from the bottom of the skirt to the knee in front or at the side, and this opening was often cut or jagged into shapes; also it was open all the way up the side of the leg, and from the neck to the breast, and buttoned over. i have not remarked on the jester, a member of many households, who wore an exaggeration of the prevalent costume, to which bells were attached at all points. so was much good cloth wasted in vanity, and much excellent time spent upon superfluities, to the harm of the people; perhaps useful enough to please the eye, which must have been regaled with all these men in wonderful colours, strutting peacockwise. [illustration: {simpler clothing, hat and hood, and bags of peasants}] the poor peasant, who found cloth becoming very dear, cared not one jot or tittle for the feast of the eye, feeling a certain unreasonable hunger elsewhere. and so over the wardrobe of dandy richard stepped henry, backed by the people. the women if ever women were led by the nose by the demon of fashion it was at this time. not only were their clothes ill-suited to them, but they abused that crowning glory, their hair. no doubt a charming woman is always charming, be she dressed by woad or worth; but to be captivating with your eyebrows plucked out, and with the hair that grows so prettily low on the back of the neck shaved away--was it possible? i expect it was. [illustration: {two types of head-dress for women, showing different views and a detail}] the days of high hennins was yet to come; the day of simple hair-dressing was nearly dead, and in the interval were all the arts of the cunning devoted to the guimpe, the gorgières, the mentonnières, the voluminous escoffions. [illustration: {two types of head-dress for women, showing different views and a detail}] at this time the lady wore her hair long and hanging freely over her shoulders; her brows were encircled by a chaplet, or chapel of flowers, real or artificial, or by a crown or plain circlet of gold; or she tucked all her hair away under a tight caul, a bag of gold net enriched with precious stones. to dress hair in this manner it was first necessary to plait it in tight plaits and bind them round the head, then to cover this with a wimple, which fell over the back of the neck, and over this to place the caul, or, as it was sometimes called, the dorelet. now and again the caul was worn without the wimple, and this left the back of the neck exposed; from this all the hair was plucked. [illustration: {three types of head-dress for women}] for outdoor exercises the lady would wear the chaperon (explained in the previous chapter), and upon this the peaked hat. the poorer woman wore always the hood, the wimple tied under the chin, or plain plaited hair. one must remember always that the advance of costume only affected the upper classes in the towns, and that the knight's lady in the country was often fifty years behind the times in her gowns. as an instance of this i give the fur tippet hung with bells, used when hawking. [illustration: {a woman of the time of richard ii.}] in the early part of the reign the cotehardie was the universal woman's garment. it was made in two ways: the one a simple, well-fitting garment, skirts and bodice in one, buttoned in front, with neck well open, the skirts ample and long, the sleeves over the hands to the first joints of the fingers, and ornamented with buttons from the elbow to the little finger--this was the general form of the garment for all degrees of rank. the lady enriched this with a belt like a man's, narrow in width round the waist with hanging end, or broad round the hips and richly ornamented. the other form of cotehardie was exactly as the man's, ending short below the hips, under which was worn the petticoat. [illustration: {three types of dress for women}] the winter addition to these was the surcoat (as usually worn by a knight over his armour); this was often lined with fur. the surcoat was a long garment without sleeves, and with a split down the sides from the shoulder to the top of the thigh; through this split was seen the cotehardie and the hip-belt. the edges were trimmed with fur, and very frequently ornamental buttons were worn down the front. over the shoulders was the cloak, left open in front, and fastened by means of a cord of rich substance passing through two loops in the backs of large ornamental studs; this cord was, as a rule, knotted at the waist, the ends hanging down as tassels. [illustration: {two types of dress for women}] later in the reign, when the second queen of richard had brought over many rich fashions, the ladies adopted the houppelande, with its heavy collar and wide, hanging sleeves. every lady and most women carried a purse in the hand or on the girdle, ornamented according to their station. the merchant's wife wore, in common with her maids, a white apron. the child who was spinning a peg-top in the street was simply dressed in a short-skirted cotehardie. [illustration: a woman of the time of richard ii. ( - ) her loose surcoat is cut away to show her under-dress. her hair is completely hidden by her jewelled caul.] for riding and sport the woman was dressed almost exactly as a man--with houppelande or heavy cloak buttoned on the right shoulder, hawking-glove on her left hand with a bell or metal ball depending from it. she wore boots laced up at the side, or long boots of soft leather fastened with hook and eye; shoes like a man's, but not so pointed and extreme. sometimes for riding a big round hat was worn over a hood. in many cases the dresses were powdered with the monogram of the blessed virgin, with badges of the family or some small device, or they were ornamented with a simple flowing pattern, or were plain. all the fripperies of fashion lay in pins for the wimple, the head made as a figure of a patron saint; or girdles rich with precious stones; or mirror-cases on whose ivory fronts were carved the castle of love, or hunting scenes, or calvary. the clasps of purses were rich in design, and rings of every kind were worn on every finger and upon the thumb. charms against evil were hung about the neck or sewn into the clothes. no matter who wrote, passed, and practised the many sumptuary laws, still, one may know it to have been frequent for persons owning less than £ a year to wear gold and silver ornaments, although expressly forbidden, and ladies of a lower estate than wives of knights-banneret wore cloth of gold and velvet, and gowns that reached and trailed upon the ground, while their husbands braved it in ermine and marten-lined sleeves which swept the road. the custom of wearing crowns was common to all people of rank, as heraldic distinction of crowns did not commence until the sixteenth century. what a magnificent time for colour was this reign!--the rich houppelandes, the furs, the long-piked shoes with pearls and gold upon them, the massive chains about men's necks; ladies whose heads shone with rich caps and cauls of pearl-embroidered gold, the rich-sheathed baselard stuck in the girdle or hanging from it on a silver chain. even the poor begging friar was touched by all this finery, and, forgetful of the rules of saint francis, he made great haste to convert his alms into a furred cote 'cutted to the knee and quaintly buttoned, hose in hard weather fastened at the ankle, and buckled shoes.' imagine that amazing woman the wife of bath, in her great hat and pound-weight kerchief; the carpenter's wife in her gored apron, at her girdle a purse of leather hanging, decorated with silk tassels and buttons of metal. it is almost impossible to describe clearly the head-dresses--the great gold net bags which encased the hair--for they were ornamented in such different ways, always, or nearly always, following some pattern in diaper in contrast to the patterns which came later when the design followed such lines as are formed by wire-netting, while later still the connecting-thread of the patterns was done away with and the inside decoration alone remained. well, richard the king no longer can whistle to matthew, his favourite greyhound, and anne the queen lies stately in the abbey at westminster without solace of her little lap-dog; but we are not all modern in our ways, and ladies hang charms about them, from scarabs to queer evil eye coral hands, from silver shoes to month-stones. crowns of flowers have been worn and crowns of jewels too, just as men and women wore them then, except on fridays and the eves of fêtes. these things we do, and other ancient things beside, but let us hope that fashion has lost her cruel mood, and deems it wise to leave our ladies' eyebrows where they be, nor schemes to inspire her faithful devotees with mad desires to hide their hair and shave their napes. the crinoline is threatened--let it come; sandals are here, with short hair and the simple life, but leave me, i pray thee, royal dame, an eyebrow on my lady, if only to give occupation to the love-lorn sonneteer. the end of the fourteenth century [illustration: chaucer.] in the last year of the fourteenth century there were still living two men whose voices have made the century live for us. one of them--chaucer--remains to-day the father of english poetry, the forerunner of shakespeare; the other--gower--less known to most of us, was the author of three long poems--'speculum meditantis,' in french; 'vox clamantis,' in latin; 'confessio amantis,' in english. boccaccio had written his 'decameron,' and it was this method of writing a series of poems or stories by means of connecting-links of narrative that should run through the series, that inspired the form of the 'confessio amantis' and the 'canterbury tales'; indeed, many stories in both of these works are retold out of the 'decameron.' gower wrote of his age as a man giving advice, philosophically; he did not attempt character studies, but framed his poems as narratives with morals fit for application to his times. chaucer drew his characters clearly--so clearly that they have become as living as have uncle toby or mrs. gamp--symbolic people, embracing a type of national character. a third writer--langland--pictured his age from the poor man's point of view, and the three writers, together with the artist of the loutrell psalter, bring the age most vividly to our eyes. of course, in these days of hasty work, it seems hardly feasible to suggest that artists who would illustrate these times should read the works of these three men, and go to the british museum to look at the psalter; but any writer must do this, and can do this, considering that the works of the poets are cheap to obtain and the british museum is free to all. anyone wishing to picture these times will find that chaucer has written very carefully of the costume of his pilgrims. they will find the pith of the costume in this book of mine; but since no book is complete in every sense, they should see for themselves how men of the day drew the costume they saw about them. it will give them a sense of the spirit of the age which so many modern drawings lack. i give you gower's picture of an exquisite; no words of mine could show so well the manner of the man: 'and therof thenketh he but a lite, for all his lust is to delite in newé thingés, proude and veine, als ferforth as he may atteine. i trowe, if that he mighté make his body newe, he woldé take a newé form and leve his olde. for what thing that he may behold the which to common use is straunge, anone his oldé guisé chaunge he woll, and fallé therupon lich unto the camelion, whiche upon every sondry hewe that he beholt he moté newe his coloun; and thus unavised full ofté time he stand desguised. more jolif than the brid in maie, he maketh him ever fressh and gaie and doth all his array desguise, so that of him the newé guise of lusty folke all other take.' now, if i have described the costume of these times clearly--and i think i have done so--these lines should conjure up a gay fellow, with his many changes of dress. if the vision fails, then allow me to say that you are at fault, and have taken no pains with the description. because the coloured drawing to the chapter of richard ii. shows a long houppelande and a chaperon tied in a certain way, you will very possibly forget that this dandy would have also a short houppelande, differently jagged sleeves, more ruffle about the twisting of his chaperon, more curve to the points of his shoes. you may see the image of gower for yourself in st. mary overies church, now called st. saviour's, on the southwark side of london bridge. he is dressed in his sober black, his head resting upon his three books. in gower retired from active life, and resigned his rectory of great braxted, essex; he was seventy years of age, and at that age he married agnes groundolf in a chapel of his own under the rooms where he lived in the priory of st. mary overies. in his friend chaucer died and gower went blind. he died in . chaucer, whose eyes saw england in her greatness after the battle of crecy in , and in her pitiful state at the downfall of richard ii., saw such a pageant of clothes pass before him that, in describing those wonderful national types, his canterbury pilgrims, he marks each one with some hint of array that we may know what manner of habit was proper to them. here, then, is a list of the clothes he pictured them as wearing: [illustration {the knight}] the knight wears a fustian doublet, all rust-stained by his coat of mail. it is interesting to note how old-fashioned is the character of this 'verray parfit gentil knight,' for he belongs more rightly to the chivalrous time of the first half of edward iii.'s reign rather than to the less gentle time of richard. [illustration: {the squire}] the squire. his locks were curled, 'as they were leyed in presse.' his short gown with wide sleeves was covered with embroidery of red and white flowers. the yeoman is in a coat and hood of green. he has a sheaf of peacock arrows in his belt; across his shoulder is a green baldrick to carry a horn. there is a figure of st. christopher in silver hanging on his breast. the prioress is in a handsome cloak; she wears coral beads gauded with green, and a brooch of gold-- 'on which was first write a-crowned a, and after, "amor vincit omnia."' the monk wears his gown, but has his sleeves trimmed with gray squirrel. to fasten his hood he has a curious gold pin, wrought at the greater end with a love-knot. the friar has his cape stuck full of knives and pins 'for to yeven faire wyves.' the merchant is in a motley of colours--parti-coloured. his beard is forked; upon his head is a flaunderish beaver hat. his boots are elegantly clasped. the clerk wears a threadbare tunic. [illustration: {the man of law}] the man of law is in a coat of parti-colours, his belt of silk with small metal bars on it. the frankeleyn or country gentleman has a white silk purse and a two-edged dagger, or akelace, at his girdle. 'then come the haberdasher, the carpenter, the weaver, the dyer, and the tapestry worker, all in the livery of their companies. they all carry pouches, girdles, and knives, mounted in silver.' the shipman is in a gown of falding (a coarse cloth), reaching to his knees. a dagger is under his arm, on a lace hanging round his neck. the doctor wears a gown of red and blue (pers was a blue cloth) lined with taffeta and sendal. [illustration: {the wife of bath}] the wife of bath. her wimples of fine linen-- 'i dorste swere they weyeden ten pound that on a sonday were upon hir heed.' her hose was of fine scarlet red; her shoes were moist and new. her hat was as broad as a buckler, and she wore a foot-mantle about her hips. the ploughman wears a tabard, a loose smock without sleeves. the reve or steward wears a long surcoat of blue cloth (pers). the somnour (an officer who summoned persons before the ecclesiastical courts) wears on his head a garland--'as greet as it were for an ale-stake.' [illustration: {the pardoner}] the pardoner has long yellow hair falling about his shoulders; his hood is turned back, and he wears a tall cap, on which is sewn a vernicle. this is the handkerchief of st. veronica on which there was an impression of our lord's face. this completes the list of pilgrims, but it will be useful to give a few more descriptions of dress as described by chaucer. the carpenter's wife in the miller's tale is described: 'fair was this yonge wyf, and ther-with-al as any wesele hir body gent (slim) and small. a ceynt (belt) she werede barred al of silk, a barneclooth (apron) eek as whyt as morne milk upon hir lendes (loins), ful of many a gore. whyt was hir smok and brouded al before and eek behinde, on hir coler aboute, of col-blak silk, within and eek withoute. the tapes of his whyte voluper (a cap) were of the same suyte--of hir coler; hir filet broad of silk, and set ful hye. * * * * * and by hir girdel heeng a purs of lether tasseld with silk and perked with latoun (a compound of copper and zinc). * * * * * a brooch she bare upon hir lowe coler, as broad as is the bos of a buckler. her shoes were laced on hir legges hye.' here also, from the parson's tale, is a sermon against the vain clothing of his time, that will serve to show how you may best paint this age, and to what excess of imagination you may run. i have reduced the wording into more modern english: 'as to the first sin, that is in superfluitee of clothing, which that maketh it so dere, to the harm of the people; not only the cost of embroidering, the elaborate endenting or barring, ornamenting with waved lines, paling, winding, or bending, and semblable waste of cloth in vanity; but there is also costly furring in their gowns, so muche pounching of chisels to make holes, so much dagging of shears; forthwith the superfluity in the length of the foresaid gowns, trailing in the dung and the mire, on horse and eek on foot, as well of man as of woman, that all this trailing is verily as in effect wasted, consumed, threadbare, and rotten with dung, rather than it is given to the poor; to great damage of the aforesaid poor folk. 'upon the other side, to speak of the horrible disordinate scantiness of clothing, as be this cutted sloppes or hainselins (short jackets), that through their shortness do not cover the shameful members of man, to wicked intent.' after this, the good parson, rising to a magnificent torrent of wrathful words, makes use of such homely expressions that should move the hearts of his hearers--words which, in our day, are not seemly to our artificial and refined palates. further, chaucer remarks upon the devices of love-knots upon clothes, which he calls 'amorettes'; on trimmed clothes, as being 'apyked'; on nearly all the fads and fashions of his time. it is to chaucer, and such pictures as he presents, that our minds turn when we think vaguely of the middle ages, and it is worth our careful study, if we wish to appreciate the times to the full, to read, no matter the hard spelling, the 'vision of piers the plowman,' by langland. i have drawn a few of the pilgrims, in order to show that they may be reconstructed by reading the chapters on the fourteenth century. henry the fourth reigned fourteen years: - . born . married, , mary de bohun; , joan of navarre. the men and women the reign opens sombrely enough--richard in prison, and twenty-five suits of cloth of gold left, among other of his butterfly raiment, in haverford castle. we are still in the age of the houppelande, the time of cut edges, jagging, big sleeves and trailing gowns. our fine gentlemen take the air in the long loose gown, or the short edition of the same with the skirts cut from it. they have invented, or the tailor has invented, or necessity has contrived, a new sleeve. it is a bag sleeve, very full and fine, enormous at the elbow, tight at the wrist, where it may fall over the hand in a wide cuff with dagged edges, or it may end in a plain band. [illustration: a man and woman of the time of henry iv. ( - ) very little change in dress; the man in the loose gown called the houppelande. the woman also in a houppelande.] let us take six gentlemen met together to learn the old thirteenth-century part-song, the round entitled 'sumer is icumen in.' [illustration: {two men of the time of henry iv.}] the first, maybe, is in the high-collared houppelande with the long skirts; his sleeves are of a different colour to his gown, and are fastened to it under cut epaulettes at his shoulders; he wears a baldrick, hung with bells, over his shoulder; his houppelande is split on one side to show his parti-coloured hose beyond his knee; his shoes are long and very pointed; his hair is cut short, and he wears a twisted roll of stuff round his head. the second is in the latest mode; he wears the voluminous sleeves which end in a plain band at his wrist, and these sleeves are of a different colour to his houppelande, the skirts of which are cut short at the knee, and then are cut into neat dags. this garment is not so full as that of the first gentleman, which is gathered in at the waist by a long-tongued belt, but is buttoned down the front to the waist and is full in the skirt; also it has no collar. this man wears his hair long and curled at the nape of his neck. [illustration: {a man of the time of henry iv.}] a third of these gentlemen, a big burly man, is in a very short tunic with wide sleeves; his tights are of two colours, his left leg red, his right blue. over his tunic he wears a quilted waistcoat, the collar and armholes of which are trimmed with fur. [illustration {a man of the time of henry iv.}] a fourth wears a loose houppelande, one half of which is blue and the other half black; it is buttoned from throat to foot; the sleeves are wide. his hair is long, and his beard is brushed into two points. [illustration: {four men of the time of henry iv.; five types of hat; a pouch}] [illustration: {two men of the time of henry iv.}] the fifth gentleman wears a houppelande of middle length, with a very high collar buttoned up the neck, the two top buttons being undone; the top of the collar rolls over. he has the epaulette, but instead of showing the very full bag sleeves he shows a little loose sleeve to the elbow, and a tight sleeve from the elbow to the hand, where it forms a cuff. he wears a very new-fashioned cap like a stiff sugar-bag, with the top lopping over. [illustration: {a man of the time of henry iv.}] the sixth and last of this group is wearing an unbound houppelande--that is, he wears no belt. he wears a plain hood which is over his head, and a soft, loose, peaked hat. 'sumer is icumen in,' the six sing out, and the shepherd, who can hear them from outside, is considering whether he can play the air upon his pipe. he is dressed in a loose tunic, a hood, and a wide-brimmed straw hat; his pipe is stuck in his belt. let us suppose that the wives of the six gentlemen are seated listening to the manly voices of their lords. the first wears a dress of blue, which is laced from the opening to the waist, where the laces are tied in a neat bow and hang down. her dress is cut fairly low; it has tight sleeves which come over her hands to the knuckles in tight cuffs. there is a wide border, about a foot and a half, of ermine on the skirt of her dress. she wears a mantle over her shoulders. her hair is enclosed in a stiff square caul of gold wire over cloth of gold. [illustration: {a woman of the time of henry iv.}] the second lady is wearing a houppelande with wide, hanging sleeves all cut at the edge; the cut of this gown is loose, except that it fits across her shoulders; she also wears a caul, from the back of which emerges a linen wimple. the third lady is in surcoat and cotehardie; the surcoat has a pleated skirt, and the borders of it are edged thickly with fur; it is cut low enough at the sides to show a belt over the hips. the cotehardie, of a different colour to the surcoat, has tight sleeves with buttons from elbow to little finger. this lady has her hair cut short at the nape of her neck, and bound about the brows with a golden circlet. [illustration: {three women of the time of henry iv.}] a fourth wears a very loose houppelande, encircled about the waist with a broad belt, the tongue of which hangs down and has an ornamented end. this houppelande falls in great folds from the neck to the feet, and is gathered into the neck; it has loose, but not wide, sleeves, falling just below the elbow. the gown is worn over a cotehardie, the sleeves of which show through the other sleeves, and the skirt of which shows when the gown skirt is gathered up. [illustration: {two women of the time of henry iv.}] the fifth lady also wears a cotehardie with a skirt to it; she wears over it a circular mantle, buttoned by three buttons on the right shoulder, and split from there to the edge on both sides, showing the dress; the front semicircle of the cloak is held to the waist by a belt so that the back hangs loose. her hair is in a caul. the sixth is in a very plain dress, tight-fitting, buttoned in front, with full skirts. she wears a white linen hood which shows the shape of the caul in which her hair is imprisoned. so is this queer old round sung, 'sumer is icumen in.' afterwards, perhaps one of these ladies, wishing to get some spite against one of the gentlemen, will ride away in a heavy riding-cloak, the hood over her head and a peaked hat on that, and she will call upon a witch. the witch will answer the rapping at her humble door, and will come out, dressed in a country dress--just an ill-fitting gown and hood, with some attempt at classical ornament on the gown, or a cloak sewn with the sacred initials thrown over her back. these two will bargain awhile for the price of a leaden image to be made in the likeness of the ill-fated gentleman, or, rather, a rough figure, on which his name will be scratched; then the puppet will be cast into the fire and melted while certain evil charms are spoken, and the malicious accident required to befall him will be spoken aloud for the devil's private ear. possibly some woman sought a witch near evesham in the year , and bought certain intentions against a tailor of that place, badby by name; for this much is certain: that the tailor was burnt for lollardy ten years after the first victim for lollard heresy, william sawtre. henry the fifth reigned nine years: - . born . married, , katherine of france. the men [illustration: {a man of the time of henry v.}] i think i may call this a transitional period of clothes, for it contains the ragged ends of the time of richard ii. and the old clothes of the time of henry iv., and it contains the germs of a definite fashion, a marked change which came out of the chrysalis stage, and showed itself in the prosperous butterflies of the sixth henry's time. we retain the houppelande, its curtailments, its exaggerations, its high and low collar, its plain or jagged sleeves. we retain the long hair, which 'busheth pleasauntlie,' and the short hair of the previous reign. also we see the new ideas for the priest-cropped hair and the roundlet hat. i speak of the men only. it was as if, in the press of french affairs, man had but time to ransack his grandfather's and his father's chests, and from thence to pull out a garment or two at a venture. if the garment was a little worn in the upper part of the sleeve, he had a slash made there, and embroidered it round. if the baldrick hung with bells was worn out in parts, he cut those pieces away and turned the baldrick into a belt. if the skirts of the houppelande were sadly frayed at the edge, enter scissors again to cut them off short; perhaps the sleeves were good--well, leave them on; perhaps the skirts were good and the sleeves soiled--well, cut out the sleeves and pop in some of his father's bag sleeves. mind you, my honest gentleman had trouble brewing: no sooner had he left the wars in normandy and guienne than the siege of harfleur loomed to his vision, and after that agincourt--agincourt, where unarmoured men prevailed over mailed knights at the odds of six to one; agincourt, where archers beat the great knights of france on open ground! hear them hammer on the french armour with their steel mallets, while the frenchmen, weighed down with their armour, sank knee-deep in the mud--where we lost men, against the french loss of , ! [illustration: a belt with bells.] see the port of le havre, with the english army landed there--henry in his full-sleeved gown, his hair cropped close and shaven round his head from his neck to an inch above his ears, buskins on his feet, for he wore buskins in preference to long boots or pointed shoes. the ships in the harbour are painted in gay colours--red, blue, in stripes, in squares; the sails are sewn with armorial bearings or some device. some of our gentlemen are wearing open houppelandes over their armour; some wear the stuffed turban on their heads, with a jewelled brooch stuck in it; some wear the sugar-bag cap, which falls to one side; some are hooded, others wear peaked hats. one hears, 'by halidom!' i wonder if all the many, many people who have hastily written historical novels of this age, and have peppered them with 'by halidoms,' knew that 'by halidom' means 'by the relics of the saints,' and that an 'harlote' means a man who was a buffoon who told ribald stories? [illustration: the turban.] still, among all these gentlemen, clothed, as it were, second-hand, we have the fine fellow, the dandy--he to whom dress is a religion, to whom stuffs are sonnets, cuts are lyrical, and tailors are the poets of their age. such a man will have his tunic neatly pleated, rejecting the chance folds of the easy-fitting houppelande, the folds of which were determined by the buckling of the belt. his folds will be regular and precise, his collar will be very stiff, with a rolled top; his hose will be of two colours, one to each leg, or parti-coloured. his shoes will match his hose, and be of two colours; his turban hat will be cocked at a jaunty angle; his sleeves will be of a monstrous length and width. he will hang a chain about his neck, and load his fingers with rings. a fellow to him, one of his own kidney, will wear the skirt of his tunic a little longer, and will cause it to be cut up the middle; his sleeves will not be pendant, like drooping wings, but will be swollen like full-blown bagpipes. an inner sleeve, very finely embroidered, will peep under the upper cuff. his collar is done away with, but he wears a little hood with cut edges about his neck; his hair is cropped in the new manner, like a priest's without a tonsure; his hat is of the queer sugar-bag shape, and it flops in a drowsy elegance over the stuffed brim. as for his shoes, they are two fingers long beyond his toes. [illustration: a man of the time of henry v. ( - ) notice the bag cap with a jewel stuck in it.] we shall see the fashions of the two past reigns hopelessly garbled, cobbled, and stitched together; a sleeve from one, a skirt from another. men-at-arms in short tunics of leather and quilted waistcoats to wear under their half-armour; beggars in fashions dating from the eleventh century; a great mass of people in undistinguishable attire, looking mostly like voluminous cloaks on spindle legs, or mere bundles of drapery; here and there a sober gentleman in a houppelande of the simplest kind, with wide skirts reaching to his feet, and the belt with the long tongue about his middle. the patterns upon the dresses of these people are heraldry contortions--heraldic beasts intertwined in screws and twists of conventional foliage, griffins and black dogs held by floral chains to architectural branches, martlets and salamanders struggling in grotesque bushes, or very elaborate geometrical patterned stuffs. there is a picture of the middle ages which was written by langland in 'piers the plowman'--a picture of an alehouse, where peronelle of flanders and clarice of cockeslane sit with the hangman of tyburn and a dozen others. it is a picture of the fourteenth century, but it holds good until the time of henry viii., when skelton, his tutor, describes just such another tavern on the highroad, where some bring wedding-rings to pay their scot of ale, and 'some bryngeth her husband's hood because the ale is good.' both accounts are gems of description, both full of that rich, happy, gothic flavour, that sense of impressionist portraiture, of broad humour, which distinguishes the drawings in the loutrell psalter. [illustration: the sugar-bag cap.] [illustration: a hood.] i feel now as if i might be accused of being interesting and of overlaying my history with too much side comment, and i am well aware that convention demands that such books as this shall be as dull as possible; then shall the vulgar rejoice, because they have been trained to believe that dullness and knowledge snore in each other's arms. however wholeheartedly you may set about writing a list of clothes attributable to certain dates, there will crop up spirits of the age, who blur the edges of the dates, and give a lifelike semblance to them which carries the facts into the sphere of fiction, and fiction was ever on the side of truth. no story has ever been invented by man but it has been beaten out of time by nature and the police-courts; no romance has been penned so intricate but fact will supply a more surprising twist to life. but, whereas facts are of necessity bald and naked things, fiction, which is the wardrobe of fact, will clothe truth in more accustomed guise. i put before you some true facts of the clothes of this time, clothed in a little coat of facts put fictionally. i write the word 'cloak'; describe to you that such people wore circular cloaks split at one or both sides, on one side to the neck, on the other below the shoulder; of semicircular cloaks, of square cloaks, of oblong cloaks, all of which were worn (i speak of these, and you may cut them out with some thought); but i wish to do more than that--i wish to give you a gleam of the spirit in which the cloaks were worn. a cloak will partake of the very soul and conscience of its owner; become draggle-tailed, flaunting, effeminate, masterful, pompous, or dignified. trousers, i think, of all the garments of men, fail most to show the state of his soul; they merely proclaim the qualities of his purse. cloaks give most the true man, and after that there is much in the cock of a hat and the conduct of a cane. in later days one might tell what manner of man had called to find you away if he chanced to leave his snuff-box behind. this reasoning is not finicky, but very profound; accept it in the right spirit. now, one more picture of the age. the rich man at home, dressed, as i say, in his father's finery, with some vague additions of his own, has acquired a sense of luxury. he prefers to dine alone, in a room with a chimney and a fire in it. he can see through a window in the wall by his side into the hall, where his more patriarchal forebears loved to take their meals. the soiled rushes are being swept away, and fresh herbs and rushes strewn in their place; on these mattresses will in their turn be placed, on which his household presently will lay them down to sleep. the women every time i write the heading 'the women' to such chapters as these, i feel that such threadbare cloak of chivalry as i may pin about my shoulders is in danger of slipping off. should i write 'the ladies'? but although all ladies are women, not all women are ladies, and as it is far finer to be a sweet woman than a great dame, i will adhere to my original heading, 'the women.' however, in the remote ages of which i now write, the ladies were dressed and the women wore clothes, which is a subtle distinction. i dare not bring my reasoning up to the present day. as i said in my last chapter, this was an age of medley--of this and that wardrobe flung open, and old fashions renovated or carried on. fashion, that elusive goddess, changes her moods and modes with such a quiet swiftness that she leaves us breathless and far behind, with a bundle of silks and velvets in our arms. how is a fashion born? who mothers it? who nurses it to fame, and in whose arms does it die? high collar, low collar, short hair, long hair, boot, buskin, shoe--who wore you first? who last condemned you to the world's great rag market of forgotten fads? now this, i have said, was a transitional age, but i cannot begin to say who was the first great dame to crown her head with horns, and who the last to forsake the jewelled caul. it is only on rare occasions that the decisive step can be traced to any one person or group of persons: charles ii. and his frock-coat, brummell and his starched stock, are finger-posts on fashion's highroad, but they are not quite true guides. charles was recommended to the coat, and i think the mist of soap and warm water that enshrines brummell as the apostle of cleanliness blurs also the mirror of truth. it does not much matter. no doubt--and here there will be readers the first to correct me and the last to see my point--there are persons living full of curious knowledge who, diving yet more deeply into the dusty crevices of history, could point a finger at the man who first cut his hair in the early fifteenth-century manner, and could write you the name and the dignities of the lady who first crowned her fair head with horns. for myself, i begin with certainty at adam and the fig-leaf, and after that i plunge into the world's wardrobe in hopes. certain it is that in this reign the close caul grew out of all decent proportions, and swelled into every form of excrescence and protuberance, until in the reign of henry vi. it towered above the heads of the ladies, and dwarfed the stature of the men. this curious head-gear, the caul, after a modest appearance, as a mere close, gold-work cap, in the time of edward iii., grew into a stiffer affair in the time of richard ii., but still was little more than a stiff sponge-bag of gold wire and stuff and a little padding; grew still more in the time of henry iv., and took squarer shapes and stiffer padding; and in the reign of henry v. it became like a great orange, with a hole cut in it for the face--an orange which covered the ears, was cut straight across the forehead, and bound all round with a stiff jewelled band. then came the idea of the horn. whether some superstitious lady thought that the wearing of horns would keep away the evil eye, or whether it was a mere frivol of some vain duchess, i do not know. as this fashion came most vividly into prominence in the following reign, i shall leave a more detailed description of it until that time, letting myself give but a short notice of its more simple forms. we see the caul grow from its circular shape into two box forms on either side of the head; the uppermost points of the boxes are arranged in horns, whose points are of any length from to inches. the top of this head-dress is covered with a wimple, which is sometimes stiffened with wires. [illustration: a woman of the time of henry v. ( - ) her surcoat is stiffened in front with fur and shaped with a band of metal. her belt is low on the hips of the under-dress. the horns on her head carry the large linen wimple.] there is also a shape something like a fez or a flower-pot, over which a heavy wimple is hung, attached to this shape; outside the wimple are two horns of silk, linen, or stuff--that is, silk bags stuffed to the likeness of horns. i should say that a true picture of this time would give but few of these very elaborate horn head-dresses, and the mass of women would be wearing the round caul. [illustration: {a woman of the time of henry v.}] the surcoat over the cotehardie is the general wear, but it has more fit about it than formerly; the form of the waist and bust are accentuated by means of a band of heavy gold embroidery, shaped to the figure. the edges of the surcoat are furred somewhat heavily, and the skirt often has a deep border of fur. sometimes a band of metal ornament runs across the top of the breast and down the centre of the surcoat, coming below the fur edging. the belt over the hips of the cotehardie holds the purse, and often a ballade or a rondel. you will see a few of the old houppelandes, with their varieties of sleeve, and in particular that long, loose double sleeve, or, rather, the very long under-sleeve, falling over the hand. this under-sleeve is part of the houppelande. all the dresses have trains, very full trains, which sweep the ground, and those readers who wish to make such garments must remember to be very generous over the material. the women commonly wear the semicircular mantle, which they fasten across them by cords running through ornamental brooches. they wear very rich metal and enamel belts round their hips, the exact ornamentation of which cannot be described here; but it was the ornament of the age, which can easily be discovered. in the country, of course, simpler garments prevail, and plain surcoats and cotehardies are wrapped in cloaks and mantles of homespun material. the hood has not fallen out of use for women, and the peaked hat surmounts it for riding or rough weather. ladies wear wooden clogs or sandals besides their shoes, and they have not yet taken to the horns upon their heads; some few of them, the great dames of the counties whose lords have been to london on king's business, or returned from france with new ideas, have donned the elaborate business of head-boxes and wires and great wimples. as one of the ladies rides in the country lanes, she may pass that augustine convent where dame petronilla is spiritual mother to so many, and may see her in agincourt year keeping her pig-tally with nicholas swon, the swineherd. they may see some of the labourers she hires dressed in the blood-red cloth she has given them, for the dyeing of which she paid s. d. for ells. the good dame's nuns are very neat; they have an allowance of s. d. a year for dress. this is in . no doubt next year my lady, riding through the lanes, will meet some sturdy beggar, who will whine for alms, pleading that he is an old soldier lately from the field of agincourt. note as there is so little real change, for drawings of women's dress see the numerous drawings in previous chapter. henry the sixth reigned thirty-nine years: - . born . dethroned . died . married, , margaret of anjou. the men [illustration: {a man of the time of henry vi.; two types of sleeve}] what a reign! was history ever better dressed? i never waver between the cardboard figures of the great elizabethan time and this reign as a monument to lavish display, but if any time should beat this for quaintness, colour, and variety, it is the time of henry viii. look at the scenes and characters to be dressed: john, duke of bedford, the protector, joan of arc, jack cade, a hundred other people; crevant, verneuil, orleans, london bridge, ludlow, st. albans, and a hundred other historical backgrounds. yet, in spite of all this, in spite of the fact that joan of arc is one of the world's personalities, it is difficult to pick our people out of the tapestries. now, you may have noticed that in trying to recreate a period in your mind certain things immediately swing into your vision: it is difficult to think of the conquest without the bayeux tapestry; it is difficult to think of the dawn of the sixteenth century without the dreamy, romantic landscapes which back the figures of giorgione; and it is not easy to think of these people of the henry vi. period without placing them against conventional tapestry trees, yellow-white castles with red, pepper-pot roofs, grass luxuriant with needlework flowers, and all the other accessories of the art. [illustration: {a man of the time of henry vi.}] the early times are easily imagined in rough surroundings or in open air; knights in armour ride quite comfortably down modern english lanes. alfred may burn his cakes realistically, and canute rebuke his courtiers on the beach--these one may see in the round. elizabeth rides to tilbury, charles ii. casts his horoscope, and george rings the bell, each in their proper atmosphere, but the dark ages are dark, not only in modes of thought, but in being ages of grotesque, of ornamentation, of anything but realism. one has, i think, a conventional mind's eye for the times from edward i. to richard iii., from to , and it is really more easy for a chinaman to call up a vision of a.d., when laot-sen, the chinese philosopher, was born. laot-sen, the child-old man, he who was born with white hair, lived till he was eighty-one, and, having had five million followers, went up to heaven on a black buffalo. in china things have changed very little: the costume is much the same, the customs are the same, the attitude towards life has not changed. but here the semicivilized, superstitious, rather dirty, fourteenth and fifteenth century person has gone. scratch a russian, they say, and you will see a tartar; do the same office by an englishman, and you may find a hint of the renaissance under his skin, but no more. the middle ages are dead and dust. we will proceed with that congenial paradox which states that the seat of learning lies in the head, and so discuss the most distinctive costumery of this time, the roundlet. [illustration: {a man of the time of henry vi.; two types of head-gear}] now, the roundlet is one of those things which delight the clothes-hunter or the costume expert. it is the natural result of a long series of fashions for the head, and its pedigree is free from any impediment or hindrance; it is the great-grandson of the hood, which is derived from a fold in a cloak, which is the beginning of all things. i am about to run the risk of displeasure in repeating to some extent what i have already written about the chaperon, the hood, and the other ancestors and descendants of the roundlet. a fashion is born, not made. necessity is the mother of art, and art is the father of invention. a man must cover his head, and if he has a cloak, it is an easy thing in rain or sunshine to pull the folds of the cloak over his head. an ingenious fellow in the east has an idea: he takes his feet--or more--of material; he folds it in half, and at about a foot and a half, or some such convenient length, he puts several neat and strong stitches joining one point of the folded material. when he wraps this garment about him, leaving the sewn point in the centre of his neck at the back, he finds that he has directed the folds of his coat in such a manner as to form a hood, which he may place on or off his head more conveniently than the plain unsewn length of stuff. the morning sun rises on the sands of sahara and lights upon the first burnoose. by a simple process in tailoring, some man, who did not care that the peak of his hood should be attached to his cloak, cut his cloth so that the cloak had a hood, the peak of which was separate and so looser, and yet more easy to pull on or off. now comes a man who was taken by the shape of the hood, but did not require to wear a cloak, so he cut his cloth in such a way that he had a hood and shoulder-cape only. from this to the man who closed the front of the hood from the neck to the edge of the cape is but a quick and quiet step. by now necessity was satisfied and had given birth to art. man, having admired his face in the still waters of a pool, seeing how the oval framed in the hood vastly became him, sought to tickle his vanity and win the approbation of the other sex, so, taking some shears, cut the edge of his cape in scallops and leaves. a more dandified fellow, distressed at the success of his brother's plumage, caused the peak of his hood to be made long. [illustration: a man of the time of henry vi. ( - ) his hair is cropped over his ears and has a thick fringe on his forehead. upon the ground is his roundlet, a hat derived from the twisted chaperon of richard ii.'s day. this hat is worn to-day, in miniature, on the shoulder of the garter robes.] need one say more? the long peak grew and grew into the preposterous liripipe which hung down the back from the head to the feet. the dandy spirit of another age, seeing that the liripipe can grow no more, and that the shape of the hood is common and not in the true dandiacal spirit, whips off his hood, and, placing the top of his head where his face was, he twists the liripipe about his head, imprisons part of the cape, and, after a fixing twist, slips the liripipe through part of its twined self and lets the end hang down on one side of his face, while the jagged end of the hood rises or falls like a cockscomb on the other. cockscomb! there's food for discussion in that--fops, beaux, dandies, coxcombs--surely. i shall not go into the matter of the hood with two peaks, which was not, i take it, a true child of fashion in the direct line, but a mere cousin--a junior branch at that. as to the dates on this family tree, the vague, mysterious beginnings b.c.--goodness knows when--in a general way the fall, the flood, and the first crusade, until the time of the first edward; the end of the thirteenth century, when the liripipe budded, the time of the second edward; the first third of the fourteenth century, when the liripipe was in full flower, the time of the third edward; the middle of the fourteenth century, when the liripipe as a liripipe was dying, the time of the second richard; the end of the century, when the chaperon became the twisted cockscomb turban. then, after that, until the twenty-second year of the fifteenth century, when the roundlet was born--those are the dates. [illustration: {a man of the time of henry vi.}] we have arrived by now, quite naturally, at the roundlet. i left you interested at the last phase of the hood, the chaperon so called, twisted up in a fantastical shape on man's head. you must see that the mere process of tying and retying, twisting, coiling and arranging, was tedious in the extreme, especially in stirring times with the trumpets sounding in england and france. now what more likely for the artist of the tied hood than to puzzle his brains in order to reach a means by which he could get at the effect without so much labour! enter invention--enter invention and exit art. with invention, the made-up chaperon sewn so as to look as if it had been tied. there was the twist round the head, the cockscomb, the hanging piece of liripipe. again this was to be simplified: the twist made into a smooth roll, the skull to be covered by an ordinary cap attached to the roll, the cockscomb converted into a plain piece of cloth or silk, the liripipe to become broader. and the end of this, a little round hat with a heavily-rolled and stuffed brim, pleated drapery hanging over one side and streamer of broad stuff over the other; just such a hat did these people wear, on their heads or slung over their shoulder, being held in the left hand by means of the streamer. there the honourable family of hood came to a green old age, and was, at the end of the fifteenth century, allowed to retire from the world of fashion, and was given a pension and a home, in which home you may still see it--on the shoulders of the garter robe. also it has two more places of honourable distinction--the roundlet is on the garter robe; the chaperon, with the cut edge, rests as a cockade in the hats of liveried servants, and the minutest member of the family remains in the foreign buttons of honourable orders. [illustration: {six types of head-gear}] we have the roundlet, then, for principal head-gear in this reign, but we must not forget that the hood is not dead; it is out of the strict realms of fashion, but it is now a practical country garment, or is used for riding in towns. there are also other forms of head-wear--tall, conical hats with tall brims of fur, some brims cut or scooped out in places; again, the hood may have a furred edge showing round the face opening; then we see a cap which fits the head, has a long, loose back falling over the neck, and over this is worn a roll or hoop of twisted stuff. then there is the sugar-loaf hat, like a circus clown's, and there is a broad, flat-brimmed hat with a round top, like noah's hat in the popular representations of the ark. [illustration: {two men of the time of henry vi.}] besides these, we have the jester's three-peaked hood and one-peaked hood, the cape of which came, divided into points, to the knees, and had arms with bell sleeves. let us see what manner of man we have under such hats: almost without exception among the gentlemen we have the priestly hair--that queer, shaved, tonsure-like cut, but without the circular piece cut away from the crown of the head. [illustration: {a man of the time of henry vi.}] the cut of the tunic in the body has little variation; it may be longer or shorter, an inch above or an inch below the knee, but it is on one main principle. it is a loose tunic with a wide neck open in front about a couple or three inches; the skirt is full, and may be cut up on one or both sides; it may be edged with fur or some stuff different to the body of the garment, or it may be jagged, either in regular small scoops or in long fringe-like jags. the tunic is always belted very low, giving an odd appearance to the men of this time, as it made them look very short in the leg. the great desire for variety is displayed in the forms of sleeve for this tunic: you may have the ordinary balloon sleeve ending in a stuff roll or fur edge for cuff, or you may have a half-sleeve, very wide indeed, like shoulder-capes, and terminated in the same manner as the bottom of the tunics--that is, fur-edged tunic, fur-edged sleeve, and so on, as described; under this shows the tight sleeve of an undergarment, the collar of which shows above the tunic collar at the neck. the length of these shoulder-cape sleeves varies according to the owner's taste, from small epaulettes to heavy capes below the elbow. there is also a sleeve tight from wrist to below the elbow, and at that point very big and wide, tapering gradually to the shoulder. you will still see one or two high collars rolled over, and there is a distinct continuance of the fashion for long-pointed shoes. there is an almost new form of overcoat which is really a tunic of the time, unbelted, and with the sleeves cut out; also one with short, but very full, sleeves, the body very loose; and besides the ordinary forms of square, oblong, and round cloak, there is a circular cloak split up the right side to the base of the biceps, with a round hole in the centre, edged with fur, for the passage of the head. [illustration: {two men of the time of henry vi.}] velvet was in common use for gowns, tunics, and even for bed-clothes, in the place of blankets. it was made in all kinds of beautiful designs, diapered, and raised over a ground of gold or silk, or double-piled, one pile on another of the same colour making the pattern known by the relief. the massed effect of well-dressed crowds must have been fine and rich in colour--here and there a very rich lady or a magnificent gentleman in pall (the beautiful gold or crimson web, known also as bandekin), the velvets, the silks of marvellous colours, and none too fresh or new. i think that such a gathering differed most strongly from a gathering of to-day by the fact that one is impressed to-day with the new, almost tinny newness, of the people's clothes, and that these other people were not so extravagant in the number of their dresses as in the quality, so that then one would have seen many old and beautifully-faded velvets and sun-licked silks and rain-improved cloths. among all this crowd would pass, in a plain tunic and short shoes, henry, the ascetic king. the women [illustration: {six types of head-dress for women}] one is almost disappointed to find nothing upon the curious subject of horns in 'sartor resartus.' such a flaunting, jovian spirit, and poetry of abuse as might have been expected from the illustrious and iconoclastic author would have suited me, at this present date, most admirably. i feel the need of a few thundering german words, or a brass band at the end of my pen, or purple ink in my inkwell, or some fantastic and wholly arresting piece of sensationalism by which to convey to you that you have now stepped into the same world as the duchess out of 'alice in wonderland.' [illustration: {a head-dress for a woman}] look out of your window and see upon the flower-enamelled turf a hundred bundles of vanity taking the air. the heads of these ladies are carried very erect, as are all heads bearing weights. the waists of these ladies are apparently under their bosoms; their feet seem to be an ell long. an assembly hour is, after the manner of lydgate's poem, a dream of delicious faces surmounted by minarets, towers, horns, excrescences of every shape--enormous, fat, heart-shaped erections, covered with rich, falling drapery, or snow-white linen, or gold tissue; gold-wire boxes sewn with pearls and blazing with colours; round, flat-topped caps, from under which girls' hair escapes in a river of colour; crown shapes, circular shapes, mitre shapes, turbans, and shovel-shaped linen erections, wired into place. oh, my lady, my lady! how did you ever hear the soft speeches of gallantry? how did the gentle whispers of love ever penetrate those bosses of millinery? [illustration: {two types of head-dress for women}] and the moralists, among whom heaven forbid that i should be found, painted lurid pictures for you of hell and purgatory, in which such head-dresses turned into instruments of torture; you lifted your long-fingered, medieval hand and shook the finger with the toad-stone upon it, as if to dispel the poison of their words. i think it is beyond me to describe in understandable terms the proper contortions of your towered heads, for i have little use for archaic words, for crespine, henk, and jacque, for herygouds with honginde sleeves, for all the blank cartridges of antiquarianism. i cannot convey the triple-curved crown, the ear buttress, the magnet-shaped roll in adequate language, but i can draw them for you. [illustration: {two women of the time of henry vi.}] i will attempt the most popular of the roll head-dresses and the simpler of the stiff-wired box. take a roll, stuffed with hemp or tow, of some rich material and twist it into the form of a heart in front and a v shape behind, where join the ends, or, better, make a circle or hoop of your rolled stuff and bend it in this way. then make a cap that will fit the head and come over the ears, and make it so that this cap shall join the heart-shaped roll at all points and cause it to appear without any open spaces between the head and the roll; the point of the heart in front will be round, and will come over the centre of the face. by joining cap and roll you will have one complete affair; over this you may brooch a linen wimple or a fine piece of jagged silk. in fact, you may twist your circle of stuff in any manner, providing you keep a vague u shape in front and completely cover the hair behind. for the box pattern it is necessary to make a box, let us say of octagonal shape, flat before and behind, or slightly curved; cut away the side under the face, or leave but a thin strip of it to go under the chin. now stuff your box on either side of the face and cut away the central square, except for inches at the top, on the forehead; here, in this cut-away piece, the face shows. you will have made your box of buckram and stuffed the wings of it with tow; now you must fit your box to a head and sew linen between the sides of the head and the tow to hold it firm and make it good to wear. you have now finished the rough shape, and you must ornament it. take a piece of thin gold web and cover your box, then get some gold braid and make a diaper or criss-cross pattern all over the box, leaving fair sized lozenges; in these put, at regular intervals as a plain check, small squares of crimson silk so that they fit across the lozenge and so make a double pattern. now take some gold wire or brass wire and knot it at neat intervals, and then stitch it on to the edges of the gold braid, after which pearl beads may be arranged on the crimson squares and at the cross of the braid; then you will have your box-patterned head-dress complete. it remains for you to enlarge upon this, if you wish, in the following manner: take a stiff piece of wire and curve it into the segment of a circle, so that you may bend the horns as much or as little as you will, fasten the centre of this to the band across the forehead, or on to the side-boxes, and over it place a large wimple with the front edge cut. again, for further enhancement of this delectable piece of goods, you may fix a low gold crown above all--a crown of an elliptical shape--and there you will have as much magnificence as ever graced lady of the fifteenth century. [illustration: a woman of the time of henry vi. ( - ) her head-dress is very high, and over it is a coloured and jagged silk wimple, a new innovation, being a change from the centuries of white linen wimples. her waist is high, after a long period of low waists.] september , , margaret paston writes to her husband in london 'i would ye were at home, if it were your ease, and your sore might be as well looked to here as it is where ye be now, liefer than a gown though it were of scarlet.' [illustration: {a woman of the time of henry vi.}] my dear diplomatist, i have forgotten if you got both your husband and the gown, or the gown only, but it was a sweetly pretty letter, and worded in such a way as must have caused your good knight to smile, despite his sore. and what had you in your mind's eye when you wrote 'liefer than a gown though it were of scarlet'? it was one of those new gowns with the high waist and the bodice opening very low, the collar quite over your shoulders, and the thick fur edge on your shoulders and tapering into a point at your bosom. you wanted sleeves like wings, and a fur edge to the bottom of the gown, besides the fur upon the edges of the sleeves--those quaint sleeves, thin to your elbows, and then great and wide, like a foresail. i suppose you had an under-gown of some wonderful diapered silk which you thought would go well with scarlet, because, as you knew, the under-gown would show at your neck, and its long train would trail behind you, and its skirt would fall about your feet and show very bravely when you bunched up the short upper gown--all the mode--and so you hinted at scarlet. [illustration: {a woman of the time of henry vi.}] now i come to think of it, the sleeve must have been hard to arrive at, the fashions were so many. to have had them tight would have minimized the use of your undergarment; to have had them of the same width from elbow to wrist would not have given you the newest of the new ideas to show in norfolk; then, for some reason, you rejected the bag sleeve, which was also in the fashion. no doubt you had a cotehardie with well-fitting sleeves and good full skirts, and a surcoat with a wide fur edge, or perhaps, in the latest fashion of these garments, with an entire fur bodice to it. you may have had also one of those rather ugly little jackets, very full, with very full sleeves which came tight at the wrist, long-waisted, with a little skirt an inch or so below the belt. a mantle, with cords to keep it on, i know you had. possibly--i have just thought of it--the sleeves of your under-gown, the tight sleeves, were laced together from elbow to wrist, in place of the old-fashioned buttons. [illustration: {a woman of the time of henry vi.}] i wonder if you ever saw the great metal-worker, william austin, one of the first among english artists to leave a great name behind him--i mean the austin who modelled the effigy of earl richard beauchamp, at warwick. [illustration: {a woman of the time of henry vi.}] you must have heard the leper use his rattle to warn you of his proximity. you, too, may have thought that joan of arc was a sorceress and friar bungay a magician. you may have--i have not your wonderful letter here for reference--heard all about eleanor of cobham, and how she did penance in a shift in the london streets for magic against the king's person. some ladies, i notice, wore the long-tongued belt--buckled it in front, and then pushed it round until the buckle came into the centre of the back and the tongue hung down like a tail; but these ladies were not wearing the high-waisted gown, but a gown with a normal waist, and with no train, but a skirt of even fulness and of the same length all the way round. [illustration: {a woman of the time of henry vi.}] there were striped stuffs, piled velvet, rich-patterned silks, and homespun cloths and wool to choose from. long-peaked shoes, of course, and wooden clogs out of doors. [illustration: {a woman of the time of henry vi.}] the town and country maids, the merchants' wives, and the poor generally, each and all according to purse and pride, dressed in humbler imitation of the cut of the clothes of the high-born, in quite simple dresses, with purse, girdle, and apron, with heads in hoods, or twisted wimples of coarse linen. well, there you lie, ladies, on the tops of cold tombs, stiff and sedate, your hands uplifted in prayer, your noses as often as not knocked off by later-day schoolboys, crop-headed puritans, or henry viii.'s sacrilegious hirelings. lie still in your huge head-dresses and your neat-folded gowns--a moral, in marble or bronze, of the pomps and vanities of this wicked world. edward the fourth reigned twenty-two years: - . born . married, , elizabeth woodville. the men [illustration: {a man of the time of edward iv.}] i invite you to call up this reign by a picture of caxton's shop: you may imagine yourself in the almonry at westminster, where, in a small enclosure by the west front of the church, there is a chapel and some almshouses. you will be able to see the rich come to look at mr. caxton's wares and the poor slinking in to receive alms. 'if it please any man, spiritual or temporal, to buy any pyes of two or three commemorations of salisbury use emprynted after the form of this present letter, which be well and truly correct, let him come to westminster into the almonry at the red pale, and he shall have them good cheap.' this was caxton's advertisement. as you watch the people going and coming about the small enclosure, you will notice that the tonsured hair has gone out of fashion, and that whereas the merchants, citizens, and such people wear the roundlet hat, the nobles and fine gentlemen are in black velvet caps, or tall hats with long-peaked brims, or in round high hats with fur brim close to the crown of the hat, or in caps with little rolled brims with a button at the top, over which two laces pass from back to front, and from under the brim there falls the last sign, the dying gasp of the liripipe, now jagged and now with tasselled ends. we have arrived at the generally accepted vague idea of 'medieval costume,' which means really a hazy notion of the dress of this date: a steeple head-dress for ladies, a short waist, and a train; a tall, sugar-loaf hat with a flat top for the men, long hair, very short and very long tunics, long-pointed shoes, and wide sleeves--this, i think, is the amateur's idea of 'costume in the middle ages.' you will notice that all, or nearly all, the passers-by caxton's have long hair; that the dandies have extra-long hair brushed out in a cloud at the back; that the older men wear long, very simple gowns, which they belt in at the waist with a stuff or leather belt, on which is hung a bag-purse; that these plain gowns are laced across the front to the waist over a vest of some coloured stuff other than the gown. [illustration: {two men of the time of edward iv.}] you will see that the poor are in very simple tunics--just a loose, stuff shirt with sleeves about inches wide, and with the skirts reaching to the knees, a belt about their middle--rough, shapeless leather shoes, and woollen tights. you will remember in the early part of the reign, before the heraldic shield with the red pale, caxton's sign, caught your eye, that the fashionable wore very wide sleeves, great swollen bags fitting only at shoulder and wrist, and you may recall the fact that a tailor was fined twenty shillings in for making such wide sleeves. poulaines, the very long shoes, are now forbidden, except that an esquire and anyone over that rank might wear them inches beyond the toes; but i think the dandies wore the shoes and paid the fine if it were enforced. [illustration: a man of the time of edward iv. ( - ) notice the jagged ribbon falling from the brim of his hat; this is the last of the liripipe.] see caxton, in a sober-coloured gown, long, and laced in the front, showing a plain vest under the lacing, talking to some of his great customers. the duchess of somerset has just lent him 'blanchardine and eglantine'; earl rivers, the queen's brother, talks over his own translation of 'the sayings of the philosophers'; and caxton is extolling that worshipful man geoffrey chaucer, and singing praises in reverence 'for that noble poet and great clerke, vergyl.' edward himself has been to the shop and has consented to become patron of an edition of tully--edward, with his very subtle face, his tall, handsome appearance, his cold, elegant manners. he is dressed in a velvet gown edged with fur; the neck of the gown is low, and the silk vest shows above it. across his chest are gold laces tapering to his waist; these are straight across the front of his gown-opening. his hair is straight, and falls to the nape of his neck; he wears a black velvet cap upon his head. the skirts of his gown reach to his knees, and are fur-edged; his sleeves are full at the elbows and tight over his wrists; he is wearing red spanish leather tall boots, turned over at the top. [illustration: {a man of the time of edward iv.; lacing on a cut sleeve}] as he stands talking to caxton, one or two gentlemen, who have also dismounted, stand about him. three of them are in the height of the fashion. the first wears a velvet tunic, with fur edges. the tunic is pleated before and behind, and is full and slightly pursed in front; the sleeves are long, and are cut from shoulder to wrist, where they are sewn together again; cuff and border of the cut or opening are both edged with fur. the neck is high, but there is no collar. the length of the tunic is quite short; it comes well above the knees. his under-sleeves are full, and are of rich silk; his shoes are certainly over the allowed length; his tights are well cut. his peaked hat has gold bands round the crown. the second gentleman is also in a very short tunic, with very wide sleeves; this tunic is pleated into large even folds, and has a belt of its own material. his hair is long, and bushed behind; his tights are in two colours, and he wears an eighteen-penny pair of black leather slops or shoes. his hat is black, tall, but without a peak; a long feather is brooched into one side of it. [illustration: {a man of the time of edward iv.; three types of boot}] the third man is wearing a low black cap, with a little close brim; a jagged piece of stuff, about feet long, hangs from under the brim of his hat. he is wearing long, straight hair. this man is wearing a little short tunic, which is loose at the waist, and comes but an inch or two below it; the sleeves are very loose and wide, and are not fastened at the wrist; the tunic has a little collar. the shortness of his tunic shows the whole of his tights, and also the ribbon-fastened cod-piece in front. his shoes are split at the sides, and come into a peak before and behind. now, our gentlemen of this time, having cut open their baggy sleeves, and made them to hang down and expose all the under-sleeve, must now needs lace them up again very loosely. then, by way of change, the tight sleeve was split at the elbow to show a white shirt. then came the broad shoulders, when the sleeves were swelled out at the top to give an air of great breadth to the shoulders and a more elegant taper to the waist. some men had patterns sewn on one leg of their tights. the gown, or whatever top garment was being worn, was sometimes cut into a low, v shape behind at the neck to show the undergarment, above which showed a piece of white shirt. [illustration: {a man of the time of edward iv.}] a long gown, in shape like a monk's habit, wide sleeves, the same width all the way down, a loose neck--a garment indeed to put on over the head, to slip on for comfort and warmth--was quite a marked fashion in the streets--as marked as the little tunic. [illustration: {twelve types of head-gear for men}] if you are remembering caxton's shop and a crowd of gentlemen, notice one in a big fur hat, which comes over his eyes; and see also a man who has wound a strip of cloth about his neck and over his head, then, letting one end hang down, has clapped his round, steeple-crowned hat over it. you will see high collars, low collars, and absence of collar, long gown open to the waist, long gown without opening, short-skirted tunic, tunic without any skirt, long, short, and medium shoes, and, at the end of the reign, one or two broad-toed shoes. many of these men would be carrying sticks; most of them would have their fingers covered with rings. among the group of gentlemen about edward some merchants have pressed closer to see the king, and a girl or two has stolen into the front row. the king, turning to make a laughing remark to one of his courtiers, will see a roguish, pretty face behind him--the face of a merchant's wife; he will smile at her in a meaning way. the women [illustration: {a head-dress for a woman}] france, at this date, shows us a sartorial savonarola, by name thomas conecte, a preaching friar, who held an anti-hennin crusade, which ended in a bonfire of these steeple head-dresses. the flames of these peculiar hats lit up the inspired devotees, and showed their heads wrapped in plain linen wimples or some little unaffected caps. but the ashes were hardly cold before the gray light of the next day showed the figure of the dreaded preacher small upon the horizon, and lit upon the sewing-maids as they sat making fresh steeples for the adornment of their ladies' heads. joan of arc is dead, and another very different apparition of womankind looms out of the mists of history. whilst joan of arc is hymned and numbered among the happy company of saints triumphant, jane shore is roared in drinking-songs and ballads of a disreputable order, and is held up as an awful example. she has for years been represented upon the boards of west end and surrey-side theatres--in her prime as the mistress of edward iv., in her penance before the church door, and in her poverty and starvation, hounded from house to house in a christian country where bread was denied to her. i myself have seen her through the person of a stout, melancholy, and h-less lady, who, dressed in a sort of burlesque fish-wife costume, has lain dying on the prompt-side of the stage, in a whirl of paper snow, while, to the edification of the twopenny gallery, she has bewailed her evil life, and has been allowed, by a munificent management, to die in the arms of white-clad angels. there is a gleam of truth in the representation, and you may see the real jane shore in a high steeple head-dress, with a thin veil thrown over it, with a frontlet or little loop of black velvet over her forehead; in a high-waisted dress, open in a v shape from shoulder to waist, the opening laced over the square-cut under-gown, the upper gown having a collar of fur or silk, a long train, broad cuffs, perhaps inches long from the base of her fingers, with a broad, coloured band about her waist, a broader trimming of the same colour round the hem of her shirt, and in long peaked shoes. in person of mean stature, her hair dark yellow, her face round and full, her eyes gray, and her countenance as cheerful as herself. the second real picture of her shows you a haggard woman, with her hair unbound and falling about her shoulders, shivering in a shift, which she clutches about her with one hand, while the other holds a dripping candle; and the third picture shows an old woman in dirty wimple and untidy rags. [illustration: {six types of head-dress for women}] there are many ways of making the steeple head-dress. for the most part they are long, black-covered steeples, resting at an angle of forty-five degrees to the head, the broad end having a deep velvet band round it, with hanging sides, which come to the level of the chin; the point end has a long veil attached to it, which floats lightly down, or is carried on to one shoulder. sometimes this steeple hat is worn over a hood, the cape of which is tucked into the dress. some of these hats have a jutting, upturned piece in front, and they are also covered with all manner of coloured stuffs, but not commonly so. all persons having an income of £ a year and over will have that black velvet loop, the frontlet, sewn into their hats. there is another new shape for hats, varying in height from to inches. it is a cylinder, broader at the top than the bottom, the crown sometimes flat and sometimes rounded into the hat itself; this hat is generally jewelled, and covered with rich material. the veils are attached to these hats in several ways; either they float down behind from the centre of the crown of the hat, or they are sewn on to the base of the hat, and are supported on wires, so as to shade the face, making a roof over it, pointed in front and behind, or flat across the front and bent into a point behind, or circular. take two circles of wire, one the size of the base of your hat and the other larger, and dress your linen or thin silk upon them; then you may pinch the wire into any variations of squares and circles you please. [illustration: a woman of the time of edward iv. ( - ) she wears the high hennin from which hangs a wisp of linen. on her forehead is the velvet frontlet, and across her forehead is a veil stretched on wires.] the veil was sometimes worn all over the steeple hat, coming down over the face, but stiff enough to stand away from it. towards the end of the reign the hats were not so high or so erect. remember, also, that the horned head-dress of the previous reign is not by any means extinct. [illustration: {a woman of the time of edward iv.}] there remain two more forms of making the human face hideous: one is the head-dress closely resembling an enormous sponge bag, which for some unknown reason lasted well into the reign of henry vii. as a variety to the fashionable head-gear of that time, and the other is very simple, being a wimple kept on the head by a circular stuffed hoop of material, which showed, plain and severe across the forehead. the simple folk wore a hood of linen, with a liripipe and wide ear-flaps. [illustration: {a woman of the time of edward iv.}] the dresses are plain in cut; they are all short-waisted if at all fashionable. the most of them have a broad waist-belt, and very deep borders to their skirts; they have broad, turned-back cuffs, often of black. these cuffs, on being turned down over the hand, show the same colour as the dress; they are, in fact, the old long cuff over the fingers turned back for comfort. it is by the variety of openings at the necks of the gowns that you may get change. first, let me take the most ordinary--that is, an opening of a v shape from shoulders to waist, the foot of the v at the waist, the points on the top of the shoulders at the join of the arm. across this opening is seen, cut square and coming up to the base of the bosom, the under-gown. you may now proceed to vary this by lacing the v across, but not drawing it together, by having the v fur-edged, or made to turn over in a collar of black upon light material, or its opposite, by showing a vest of stuff other than that of the under-gown, which will then make a variety of colour when the skirt is held up over the arm. or you may have your dress so cut that it is high in front and square cut, and over this you may sew a false v collar wither to or above the waist. i have said that the whole neck-opening may be covered by a gorget of cloth, which was pinned up to the steeple hat, or by a hood of thin stuff or silk, the cape of which was tucked into the dress. [illustration: {a woman of the time of edward iv.}] the lady, i think, is now complete down to her long-pointed shoes, her necklet of stones or gold chain, with cross or heraldic pendant, and it remains to show that the countrywoman dressed very plainly, in a decent-fitting dress, with her waist in its proper place, her skirt full, the sleeves of her dress turned back like my lady's, her head wrapped in a wimple or warmed in a hood, her feet in plain, foot-shaped shoes, and wooden clogs strapped on to them for outdoor use or kitchen work; in fact, she looked much like any old body to-day who has lived in a village, except that the wimple and the hood then worn are out of place to-day, more's the pity! no doubt ladies were just human in those days, and fussed and frittered over an inch or so of hennin, or a yard or two of train. one cut her dress too low to please the others, and another wore her horned head-dress despite the dictates of fashion, which said, 'away with horns, and into steeples.' no doubt the tall hennins, with their floating veils, looked like black masts with silken sails, and the ladies like a crowd of shipping, with velvet trains for waves about their feet; no doubt the steeples swayed and the silks rustled when the heads turned to look at the fine men in the days when hump-shouldered richard was a dandy. edward the fifth reigned two months: april and june, . richard the third reigned two years: - . born . married, , anne neville. the men [illustration: {three men of the time of edward v. and richard iii.}] fashion's pulse beat very weak in the spring of . more attune to the pipes of fate were the black cloaks of conspirators and a measured tread of soft-shoed feet than lute and dance of airy millinery. the axe of the executioner soiled many white shirts, and dreadful forebodings fluttered the dovecots of high-hennined ladies. the old order was dying; medievalism, which made a last spluttering flame in the next reign, was now burnt low, and was saving for that last effort. when richard married anne neville, in the same year was raphael born in italy; literature was beginning, thought was beginning; many of the great spirits of the renaissance were alive and working in italy; the very trend of clothes showed something vaguely different, something which shows, however, that the foundations of the world were being shaken--so shaken that men and women, coming out of the gloom of the fourteenth century through the half-light of the fifteenth, saw the first signs of a new day, the first show of spring, and, with a perversity or an eagerness to meet the coming day, they began to change their clothes. it is in this reign of richard iii. that we get, for the men, a hint of the peculiar magnificence of the first years of the sixteenth century; we get the first flush of those wonderful patterns which are used by memline and holbein, those variations of the pine-apple pattern, and of that peculiar convention which is traceable in the outline of the tudor rose. the men, at first sight, do not appear very different to the men of edward iv.'s time; they have the long hair, the general clean-shaven faces, open-breasted tunics, and full-pleated skirts. but, as a rule, the man, peculiar to his time, the clothes-post of his age, has discarded the tall peaked hat, and is almost always dressed in the black velvet, stiff-brimmed hat. the pleated skirt to his tunic has grown longer, and his purse has grown larger; the sleeves are tighter, and the old tunic with the split, hanging sleeves has grown fuller, longer, and has become an overcoat, being now open all the way down. you will see that the neck of the tunic is cut very low, and that you may see above it, above the black velvet with which it is so often bound, the rich colour or fine material of an undergarment, a sort of waistcoat, and yet again above that the straight top of a finely-pleated white shirt. sometimes the sleeves of the tunic will be wide, and when the arm is flung up in gesticulation, the baggy white shirt, tight-buttoned at the wrist, will show. instead of the overcoat with the hanging sleeves, you will find a very plain-cut overcoat, with sleeves comfortably wide, and with little plain lapels to the collar. it is cut wide enough in the back to allow for the spread of the tunic. black velvet is becoming a very fashionable trimming, and will be seen as a border or as under-vest to show between the shirt and the tunic. no clothes of the last reign will be incongruous in this; the very short tunics which expose the cod-piece, the split-sleeve tunic, all the variations, i have described. judges walk about, looking like gentlemen of the time of richard ii.: a judge wears a long loose gown, with wide sleeves, from out of which appear the sleeves of his under-tunic, buttoned from elbow to wrist; he wears a cloak with a hood, the cloak split up the right side, and fastened by three buttons upon the right shoulder. a doctor is in very plain, ample gown, with a cape over his shoulders and a small round cap on his head. his gown is not bound at the waist. [illustration: a man of the time of richard iii. ( - ) here one sees the first of the broad-toed shoes and the birth of the tudor costume--the full pleated skirts and the prominence of white shirt.] the blunt shoes have come into fashion, and with this the old long-peaked shoe dies for ever. common-sense will show you that the gentlemen who had leisure to hunt in these times did not wear their most foppish garments, that the tunics were plain, the boots high, the cloaks of strong material. they wore a hunting-hat, with a long peak over the eyes and a little peak over the neck at the back; a broad band passed under the chin, and, buttoning on to either side of the hat, kept it in place. the peasant wore a loose tunic, often open-breasted and laced across; he had a belt about his waist, a hood over his head, and often a broad-brimmed noah's ark hat over the hood; his slops, or loose trousers, were tied below the knee and at the ankles. a shepherd would stick his pipe in his belt, so that he might march before his flock, piping them into the fold. [illustration: {a man of the time of edward v. and richard iii.; a hat}] to sum up, you must picture a man in a dress of edward iv.'s time, modified, or, rather, expanded or expanding into the costume of henry vii.'s time--a reign, in fact, which hardly has a distinct costume to itself--that is, for the men--but has a hand stretched out to two centuries, the fifteenth and the sixteenth; yet, if i have shown the man to you as i myself can see him, he is different from his father in , and will change a great deal before . the women [illustration: {a woman of the time of edward v. and richard iii.}] here we are at the end of an epoch, at the close of a costume period, at one of those curious final dates in a history of clothes which says that within a year or so the women of one time will look hopelessly old-fashioned and queer to the modern woman. except for the peculiar sponge-bag turban, which had a few years of life in it, the woman in henry vii.'s reign would look back at this time and smile, and the young woman would laugh at the old ideas of beauty. the river of time runs under many bridges, and it would seem that the arches were low to the bridge of fashion in , and the steeple hat was lowered to prevent contact with them. the correct angle of forty-five degrees changed into a right angle, the steeple hat, the hennin, came toppling down, and an embroidered bonnet, perched right on the back of the head, came into vogue. it is this bonnet which gives, from our point of view, distinction to the reign. it was a definite fashion, a distinct halt. it had travelled along the years of the fourteenth century, from the wimple and the horns, and the stiff turbans, and the boxes of stiffened cloth of gold; it had languished in the caul and blossomed in the huge wimple-covered horns; it had shot up in the hennin; and now it gave, as its last transformation, this bonnet at the back of the head, with the stiff wimple stretched upon wires. soon was to come the diamond-shaped head-dress, and after that the birth of hair as a beauty. in this case the hair was drawn as tightly as possible away from the forehead, and at the forehead the smaller hairs were plucked away; even eyebrows were a little out of fashion. then this cylindrical bonnet was placed at the back of the head, with its wings of thin linen stiffly sewn or propped on wires. these wires were generally of a v shape, the v point at the forehead. on some occasions two straight wires came out on either side of the face in addition to the v, and so made two wings on either side of the face and two wings over the back of the head. it is more easy to describe through means of the drawings, and the reader will soon see what bend to give to the wires in order that the wings may be properly held out. beyond this head-dress there was very little alteration in the lady's dress since the previous reign. the skirts were full; the waist was high, but not absurdly so; the band round the dress was broad; the sleeves were tight; and the cuffs, often of fur, were folded back to a good depth. the neck opening of the dress varied, as did that of the previous reign, but whereas the most fashionable opening was then from neck to waist, this reign gave more liking to a higher corsage, over the top of which a narrow piece of stuff showed, often of black velvet. we may safely assume that the ladies followed the men in the matter of broad shoes. for a time the old fashion of the long-tongued belt came in, and we see instances of such belts being worn with the tongue reaching nearly to the feet, tipped with a metal ornament. [illustration: a woman of the time of richard iii. ( - ) the great erection on her head is made of thin linen stretched upon wires; through this one may see her jewelled cap.] not until night did these ladies discard their winged head erections; not until the streets were dark, and the brass basins swinging from the barbers' poles shone but dimly, and the tailors no longer sat, cross-legged, on the benches in their shop-fronts--then might my lady uncover her head and talk, in company with my lord, over the strange new stories of prester john and of the wandering jew; then, at her proper time, she will go to her rest and sleep soundly beneath her embroidered quilt, under the protection of the saints whose pictures she has sewn into the corners of it. matthew, mark, luke, and john, bless the bed that she lies on. so we come to an end of a second series of dates, from the first edward to the third richard, and we leave them to come to the tudors and their follies and fantastics; we leave an age that is quaint, rich, and yet fairly simple, to come to an age of padded hips and farthingales, monstrous ruffs, knee-breeks, rag-stuffed trunks, and high-heeled shoes. with the drawings and text you should be able to people a vast world of figures, dating from the middle of the thirteenth century, , to nearly the end of the fifteenth, , and if you allow ordinary horse-sense to have play, you will be able to people your world with correctly-dressed figures in the true inspiration of their time. you cannot disassociate the man from his tailor; his clothes must appeal to you, historically and soulfully, as an outward and visible sign to the graces and vices of his age and times. henry the seventh reigned years: - . born, . married, , elizabeth of york. the men [illustration: {a man of the time of henry vii.; hose}] everyone has felt that curious faint aroma, that sensation of lifting, which proclaims the first day of spring and the burial of winter. although nothing tangible has taken place, there is in the atmosphere a full-charged suggestion of promise, of green-sickness; there is a quickening of the pulse, a thrumming of the heart, and many an eager, quick glance around for the first buds of the new order of things. england's winter was buried on bosworth field: england's spring, as if by magic, commenced with henry's entry into london. the first picture of the reign shows the mayor, the sheriffs, and the aldermen, clothed in violet, waiting at shoreditch for the coming of the victor. the same day shows henry in st. paul's, hearing a _te deum_; in the cathedral church, packed to its limit, three new banners waved, one bearing a figure of st. george, another a dragon of red on white and green sarcenet, and the third showed a dun cow on yellow tarterne. spring, of course, does not, except in a poetic sense, burst forth in a day, there are long months of preparation, hints, signs in the air, new notes from the throats of birds. the springtime of a country takes more than the preparation of months. nine years before henry came to the throne caxton was learning to print in the little room of collard mansion--he was to print his 'facts of arms,' joyous tales and pleasant histories of chivalry, by especial desire of henry himself. later still, towards the end of the reign, the first book of travel in the west began to go from hand to hand--it was written by amerigo vespucci, cousin to la bella simonetta. great thoughts were abroad, new ideas were constantly under discussion, the arts rose to the occasion and put forth flowers of beauty on many stems long supposed to be dead or dormant and incapable of improvement. it was the great age of individual english expression in every form but that of literature and painting, both these arts being but in their cradles; chaucer and gower and langland had written, but they lay in their graves long before new great minds arose. the clouds of the middle ages were dispersed, and the sun shone. the costume was at once dignified and magnificent--not that one can call the little coats great ideals of dignity, but even they, by their richness and by the splendour of the persons they adorned, come into the category. the long gowns of both men and women were rich beyond words in colour, texture, and design, they were imposing, exact, and gorgeous. upon a fine day the streets must have glittered when a gentleman or lady passed by. the fashions of the time have survived for us in the court cards: take the jacks, knaves, valets--call them as you will, and you will see the costume of this reign but slightly modified into a design, the cards of to-day and the cards of that day are almost identical. some years ago the modification was less noticeable; i can remember playing pope joan with cards printed with full-length figures, just as the illustrations to 'alice in wonderland' are drawn. in the knave you will see the peculiar square hat which came in at this time, and the petti-cote, the long coat, the big sleeve, and the broad-toed shoes. you will see the long hair, undressed and flowing over the shoulders (the professional classes, as the lawyer, cut their hair close, so also did the peasant). over this flowing hair a dandy would wear a little cap with a narrow, rolled-up brim, and over this, on occasions, an enormous hat of felt, ornamented with a prodigious quantity of feathers. [illustration: {a man of the time of henry vii.}] there was, indeed, quite a choice of hats: the berretino--a square hat pinched in at the corners; many round hats, some with a high, tight brim, some with the least brim possible; into these brims, or into a band round the hat, one might stick feathers or pin a brooch. [illustration: a man of the time of henry vii. ( - )] the chaperon, before described, was still worn by garter knights at times, and by official, legal, civic, and college persons. what a choice of coats the gentlemen had, and still might be in the fashion! most common among these was the long coat like a dressing-gown, hanging upon the ground all round, with a wide collar, square behind, and turning back in the front down to the waist--this was the general shape of the collar, and you may vary it on this idea in every way: turn it back and show the stuff to the feet, close it up nearly to the neck, cut it off completely. now for the sleeves of such a coat. i have shown in the illustrations many varieties, the most common was the wide sleeve, narrow at the shoulder, and hanging over the hand in folds. the slashes, which show the white shirt, are usual, and of every order. the shirt itself was often ornamented with fine gathers and fancy stitching, and was gathered about the neck by a ribbon. as the years went on it is easy to see that the shirt was worn nearer to the neck, the gathers became higher and higher, became more ornamented, and finally rose, in all extravagant finery, to behind the ears--and we have the elizabethan ruff. [illustration: coats--hats] next to the shirt a waistcoat, or stomacher, of the most gorgeous patterned stuff, laced across the breast sometimes, more often fastened behind. this reached to the waist where it met long hose of every scheme of colour--striped, dotted, divided in bands--everything--displaying the indelicate but universal pouch in front, tied with coloured ribbons. on the feet, shoes of all materials, from cloth and velvet to leather beautifully worked, and of the most absurd length; these also were slashed with puffs of white stuff. many of these shoes were but a sole and a toe, and were tied on by thongs passing through the sole. of course the long coat would not alone satisfy the dandy, but he must needs cut it off into a short jacket, or petti-cote, and leave it open to better display his marvellous vest. here we have the origin of the use of the word 'petticoat'--now wrongly applied; in scotland, to this day, a woman's skirts are called her 'coats.' about the waists of these coats was a short sash, or a girdle, from which hung a very elaborate purse, or a dagger. stick in hand, jewel in your hat, dandy--extravagant, exquisite dandy! all ages know you, from the day you choose your covering of leaves with care, to the hour of your white duck motoring-suit: a very bird of a man, rejoicing in your plumage, a very human ass, a very narrow individual, you stride, strut, simper through the story of the universe, a perfect monument of the fall of man, a gorgeous symbol of the decay of manhood. in this our henry's reign, your hair busheth pleasantly, and is kembed prettily over the ear, where it glimmers as gold i' the sun--pretty fellow--lord! how your feathered bonnet becomes you, and your satin stomacher is brave over a padded chest. your white hands, freed from any nasty brawls and clean of any form of work, lie in their embroidered gloves. your pride forbids the carriage of a sword, which is borne behind you--much use may it be!--by a mincing fellow in your dainty livery. and if--oh, rare disguise!--your coiffure hides a noble brow, or your little, neat-rimmed coif a clever head, less honour be to you who dress your limbs to imitate the peacock, and hide your mind beneath the weight of scented clothes. [illustration: sleeves] in the illustrations to this chapter and the next, my drawings are collected and redrawn in my scheme from works so beautiful and highly finished that every student should go to see them for himself at the british museum. my drawings, i hope, make it quite clear what was worn in the end of the fifteenth century and the first nine years of the sixteenth, and anyone with a slight knowledge of pictures will be able to supply themselves with a large amount of extra matter. i would recommend ms. roy , f. ; ms. roy , c. ; and especially harleian ms. . of the lower classes, also, these books show quite a number. there are beggars and peasants, whose dress was simply old-fashioned and very plain; they wore the broad shoes and leather belts and short coats, worsted hose, and cloaks of fair cloth. 'poverty,' the old woman with the spoon in her hat, is a good example of the poor of the time. when one knows the wealth of material of the time, and has seen the wonder of the stuffs, one knows that within certain lines imagination may have full scope. stuffs of silk, embroidered with coupled birds and branches, and flowers following out a prescribed line, the embroideries edged and sewn with gold thread; velvet on velvet, short-napped fustian, damasked stuffs and diapered stuffs--what pictures on canvas, or on the stage, may be made; what marvels of colour walked about the streets in those days! it was to the eye an age of elaborate patterns--mostly large--and all this broken colour and glitter of gold thread must have made the streets gay indeed. [illustration: {a man of the time of henry vii.}] imagine, shall we say, corfe castle on a day when a party of ladies and gentlemen assembled to 'course a stagge,' when the huntsmen, in green, gathered in the outer ward, and the grooms, in fine coloured liveries, held the gaily-decked horses; then, from the walls lined with archers, would come the blast of the horn, and out would walk my lord and my lady, with knights, and squires, and ladies, and gallants, over the bridge across the castle ditch, between the round towers. behind them the dungeon tower, and the great gray mass of the keep--all a fitting and impressive background to their bravery. the gentlemen, in long coats of all wonderful colours and devices, with little hats, jewelled and feathered, with boots to the knee of soft leather, turned back in colours at the top; on their left hands the thick hawking glove on which, jessed and hooded, sits the hawk--for some who will not go with the hounds will fly the hawk on the isle of purbeck. [illustration: {a man of the time of henry vii.}] below, in the town over the moat, a crowd is gathered to see them off--merchants in grave colours, and coats turned back with fur, their ink-horns slung at their waists, with pens and dagger and purse; beggars; pilgrims, from over seas, landed at poole harbour, in long gowns, worn with penitence and dusty travels, shells in their hats, staffs in their hands; wide-eyed children in smocks; butchers in blue; men of all guilds and women of all classes. the drawbridge is down, the portcullis up, and the party, gleaming like a bed of flowers in their multi-coloured robes, pass over the bridge, through the town, and into the valley. the sun goes in and leaves the grim castle, gray and solemn, standing out against the green of the hills.... and of henry himself, the great tudor, greater, more farseeing than the eighth henry, a man who so dominates the age, and fills it with his spirit, that no mental picture is complete without him. his fine, humorous face, the quizzical eye, the firm mouth, showing his character. the great lover of art, of english art, soon to be pulverized by pseudo-classic influences; the man who pulled down the chapel at the west end of westminster abbey with the house by it--chaucer's house--to make way for that superb triumph of ornate building, his chapel, beside which the mathematical squares and angles of classic buildings show as would boxes of bricks by a gorgeous flower. the stories against him are, in reality, stories for him, invented by those whom he kept to their work, and whom he despoiled of their ill-gotten gains. he borrowed, but he paid back in full; he came into a disordered, distressed kingdom, ruled it by fear--as had to be done in those days--and left it a kingdom ready for the fruits of his ordered works--to the fleshy beast who so nearly ruined the country. what remained, indeed, was the result of his father's genius. the women take up a pack of cards and look at the queen. you may see the extraordinary head-gear as worn by ladies at the end of the fifteenth century and in the first years of the sixteenth, worn in a modified form all through the next reign, after which that description of head-dress vanished for ever, its place to be taken by caps, hats, and bonnets. the richest of these head-dresses were made of a black silk or some such black material, the top stiffened to the shape of a sloping house-roof, the edges falling by the face on either side--made stiff, so as to stand parallel--these were sewn with gold and pearls on colour or white. the end of the hood hung over the shoulders and down the back; this was surmounted by a stole of stiffened material, also richly sewn with jewels, and the whole pinned on to a close-fitting cap of a different colour, the edge of which showed above the forehead. [illustration: {seven head-dresses for women; side and front view of a shoe}] the more moderate head-dress was of black again, but in shape nearly square, and slit at the sides to enable it to hang more easily over the shoulders. it was placed over a coif, often of white linen or of black material, was turned over from the forehead, folded, and pinned back; often it was edged with gold. on either side of the hood were hanging ornamental metal-tipped tags to tie back the hood from the shoulders, and this became, in time--that is, at the end of the reign--the ordinary manner of wearing them, till they were finally made up so. the ordinary head-dress was of white linen, crimped or embroidered in white, made in a piece to hang over the shoulders and down the back, folded back and stiffened in front to that peculiar triangular shape in fashion; this was worn by the older women over a white hood. the plain coif, or close-fitting linen cap, was the most general wear for the poor and middle classes. the hair was worn long and naturally over the shoulders by young girls, and plainly parted in the centre and dressed close to the head by women wearing the large head-dress. another form of head-dress, less common, was the turban--a loose bag of silk, gold and pearl embroidered, fitting over the hair and forehead tightly, and loose above. the gowns of the women were very simply cut, having either a long train or no train at all, these last cut to show the under-skirt of some fine material, the bodice of which showed above the over gown at the shoulders. the ladies who wore the long gown generally had it lined with some fine fur, and to prevent this dragging in the mud, as also to show the elegance of their furs, they fastened the train to a button or brooch placed at the back of the waistband. this, in time, developed into the looped skirts of elizabethan times. [illustration: {three women of the time of henry vii.}] the bodice of the gown was square cut and not very low, having an ornamental border of fur, embroidery, or other rich coloured material sewn on to it. this border went sometimes round the shoulders and down the front of the dress to below the knees. above the bodice was nearly always seen the v-shaped opening of the under petticoat bodice, and across and above that, the white embroidered or crimped chemise. the sleeves were as the men's--tight all the way down from the shoulder to the wrist, the cuffs coming well over the first joints of the fingers (sometimes these cuffs are turned back to show elaborate linings), or they were made tight at the shoulder and gradually looser until they became very full over the lower arm, edged or lined with fur or soft silk, or loose and baggy all the way from shoulder to hand. [illustration: {a woman of the time of henry vii.}] at this time bruges became world-famed for her silken texture; her satins were used in england for church garments and other clothes. the damask silks were greatly in use, and were nearly always covered with the peculiar semi-spanish pattern, the base of which was some contortion of the pomegranate. some of these patterns were small and wonderfully fine, depending on their wealth of detail for their magnificent appearance, others were huge, so that but few repeats of the design appeared on the dress. block-printed linens were also in use, and the samples in south kensington will show how beautiful and artistic they were, for all their simple design. as bruges supplied us with silks, satins, and velvets, the last also beautifully damasked, yprès sent her linen to us, and the whole of flanders sent us painters and illuminators who worked in england at the last of the great illuminated books, but this art died as printing and illustrating by wood-blocks came in to take its place. nearly every lady had her own common linen, and often other stuffs, woven in her own house, and the long winter evenings were great times for the sewing chambers, where the lady and her maids sat at the looms. to-day one may see in bruges the women at the cottage doors busy over their lace-making, and the english women by the sea making nets--so in those times was every woman at her cottage door making coarse linens and other stuffs to earn her daily bread, while my lady was sitting in her chamber weaving, or embroidering a bearing cloth for her child against her time. however, the years of the wars of the roses had had their effect on every kind of english work, and as the most elegant books were painted and written by flemings, as the finest linen came from yprès, the best silks and velvets from bruges, the great masters of painting from florence, germany, and belgium, so also the elaborate and wonderful embroidery, for which we had been so famous, died away, and english work was but coarse at the best, until, in the early sixteen hundreds, the new style came into use of raising figures some height above the ground-work of the design, and the rich embroidery of the stuart times revived this art. i have shown that this age was the age of fine patterns, as some ages are ages of quaint cut, and some of jewel-laden dresses, and some of dainty needlework. a few ladies wore their gowns open to the waist to show the stomacher, as the men did, and open behind to the waist, laced across, the waist being embraced by a girdle of the shape so long in use, with long ends and metal ornaments; the girdle held the purse of the lady. [illustration: a woman of the time of henry vii. ( - ) notice the diamond-shaped head-dress, the wide, fur-edged gown with its full sleeves.] the illustrations given with this chapter show very completely the costume of this time, and, except in cases of royal persons or very gorgeously apparelled ladies, they are complete enough to need no description. the shoes, it will be seen, are very broad at the toes, with thick soles, sometimes made much in the manner of sandals--that is, with only a toecap, the rest flat, to be tied on by strings. as this work is entirely for use, it may be said, that artists who have costumes made for them, and costumiers who make for the stage, hardly ever allow enough material for the gowns worn by men and women in this and other reigns, where the heaviness and richness of the folds was the great keynote. to make a gown, of such a kind as these good ladies wore, one needs, at least, twelve yards of material, fifty-two inches wide, to give the right appearance. it is possible to acquire at many of the best shops nowadays actual copies of embroidered stuffs, velvets, and damask silks of this time, and of stuffs up to early victorian patterns, and this makes it easy for painters to procure what, in other days, they were forced to invent. many artists have their costumes made of bolton sheeting, on to which they stencil the patterns they wish to use--this is not a bad thing to do, as sheeting is not dear and it falls into beautiful folds. the older ladies and widows of this time nearly all dressed in very simple, almost conventual garments, many of them wearing the 'barbe' of pleated linen, which covered the lower part of the face and the chin--a sort of linen beard--it reached to the breast, and is still worn by some religious orders of women. badges were still much in use, and the servants always wore some form of badge on their left sleeve--either merely the colours of their masters, or a small silver, or other metal, shield. thus, the badge worn by the servants of henry vii. would be either a greyhound, a crowned hawthorn bush, a red dragon, a portcullis, or the red and white roses joined together. the last two were used by all the tudors, and the red rose and the portcullis are still used. from these badges we get the signs of many of our inns, either started by servants, who used their master's badge for a device, or because the inn lay on a certain property the lord of which carried chequers, or a red dragon, or a tiger's head. i mentioned the silks of bruges and her velvets without giving enough prominence to the fine velvets of florence, a sample of which, a cope, once used in westminster abbey, is preserved at stonyhurst college; it was left by henry vii. to 'our monastery of westminster,' and is of beautiful design--a gold ground, covered with boughs and leaves raised in soft velvet pile of ruby colour, through which little loops of gold thread appear. i imagine elizabeth of york, queen to henry vii., of the subtle countenance--gentle elizabeth, who died in child-birth--proceeding through london, from the tower to westminster, to her coronation; the streets cleansed and the houses hung with tapestry, arras and gold cloth, the fine-coloured dresses of the crowd, the armoured soldiers, all the rich estate of the company about her, and the fine trappings of the horses. our queen went to her coronation with some italian masts, paper flowers, and some hundreds of thousands of yards of bunting and cheap flags; the people mostly in sombre clothes; the soldiers in ugly red, stiff coats, were the only colour of note passing down whitehall, past the hideous green stuck with frozen members of parliament, to the grand, wonderful abbey, which has seen so many queens crowned. henry the eighth reigned thirty-eight years: - . born, . married, , katherine of aragon; , anne boleyn; , jane seymour; , anne of cleves; , katherine howard; , katherine parr. the men verses by henry the eighth in praise of constancy 'as the holy grouth grene with ivie all alone whose flowerys cannot be seen and grene wode levys be gone, now unto my lady, promyse to her i make from all other only to her i me betake. adew myne owne ladye, adew my specyall who hath my hart trewly, be sure, and ever shall.' so, with songs and music of his own composition, comes the richest man in europe to the throne of england. gay, brave, tall, full of conceit in his own strength, henry, a king, a tudor, a handsome man, abounding in excellence of craft and art, the inheritance from his father and mother, figures in our pageant a veritable symbol of the renaissance in england. he had, in common with the marvellous characters of that springtime of history, the quick intelligence and all the personal charm that the age brought forth in abundance. in his reign the accumulated mass of brain all over the world budded and flowered; the time gave to us a succession of the most remarkable people in any historical period, and it is one of the triumphs of false reasoning to prove this, in england, to have been the result of the separation from the catholic church. for centuries the church had organized and prepared the ground in which this tree of the world's knowledge was planted, had pruned, cut back, nursed the tree, until gradually it flowered, its branches spread over christian europe, and when the flowering branch hanging over england gave forth its first-fruits, those men who ate of the fruit and benefited by the shade were the first to quarrel with the gardeners. in these days there lived and died botticelli, leonardo da vinci, raphael, dürer, erasmus, holbein, copernicus, luther, rabelais, and michael angelo, to mention a few men of every shade of thought, and in this goodly time came henry to the english throne, to leave, at his death, instead of the firm progress of order instituted by his father, a bankrupt country with an enormously rich government. you may see for the later pictures of his reign a great bloated mass of corpulence, with running ulcers on his legs and the blood of wives and people on his hands, striding in his well-known attitude over the festering slums his rule had produced in london. harry, _grace à dieu_! the mental picture from our--costume--point of view is widely different from that of the last reign. no longer do we see hoods and cowls, brown, gray, white, and black in the streets, no longer the throngs of fine craftsmen, of church-carvers, gilders, embroiderers, candle-makers, illuminators, missal-makers; all these served but to swell the ranks of the unemployed, and caused a new problem to england, never since solved, of the skilled poor out of work. the hospitals were closed--that should bring a picture to your eyes--where the streets had been thronged with the doctors of the poor and of the rich in their habits, no monks or lay brothers were to be seen. the sick, the blind, the insane had no home but the overhung back alleys where the foulest diseases might accumulate and hot-beds of vice spring up, while in the main streets harry tudor was carried to his bear-baiting, a quivering mass of jewels shaking on his corrupt body, on his thumb that wonderful diamond the regale of france, stolen by him from the desecrated shrine of st. thomas à becket. [illustration: {a man of the time of henry viii.; collar; ruff}] [illustration: a man of the time of henry viii. ( - ) he wears the club-toed shoes, the white shirt embroidered in black silk, the padded shoulders, and the flat cap by which this reign is easily remembered.] [illustration: {a man of the time of henry viii.; breeches}] there are two distinct classes of fashion to be seen, the german-swiss fashion and the english fashion, a natural evolution of the national dress. the german fashion is that slashed, extravagant-looking creation which we know so well from the drawings of albert dürer and the more german designs of holbein. the garments which were known as 'blistered' clothes are excessive growths on to the most extravagant designs of the henry vii. date. the shirt cut low in the neck, and sewn with black embroidery; the little waistcoat ending at the waist and cut straight across from shoulder to shoulder, tied with thongs of leather or coloured laces to the breeches, leaving a gap between which showed the shirt; the universal pouch on the breeches often highly decorated and jewelled. from the line drawings you will see that the sleeves and the breeches took every form, were of any odd assortment of colours, were cut, puffed, and splashed all over, so that the shirt might be pushed through the holes, looking indeed 'blistered.' [illustration: {a man of the time of henry viii.}] the shoes were of many shapes, as i have shown, agreeing in one point only--that the toes should be cut very broad, often, indeed, quite square. short or hanging hair, both were the fashion, and little flat caps with the rim cut at intervals, or the large flat hats of the previous reign, covered with feathers and curiously slashed, were worn with these costumes. cloaks, as you may see, were worn over the dress, and also those overcoats shaped much like the modern dressing-gown. it is from these 'blistered,' padded breeches that we derive the trunks of the next reign, the slashings grown into long ribbon-like slits, the hose puffed at the knee. separate pairs of sleeves were worn with the waistcoats, or with the petti-cotes, a favourite sleeve trimming being broad velvet bands. the invention sprang, as usual, from necessity, by vanity to custom. in the swiss beat and routed the duke of burgundy at nantes, and the soldiers, whose clothes were in rags, cut and tore up his silk tents, his banners, all material they could find, and made themselves clothes of these odd pieces--clothes still so torn and ragged that their shirts puffed out of every hole and rent. the arrival of the victorious army caused all the non-fighters to copy this curious freak in clothes, and the courtiers perpetuated the event by proclaiming blistering as the fashion. the other and more usual fashion springs from the habit of clothes in bygone reigns. let us first take the shirt a. it will be seen how, in this reign, the tendency of the shirt was to come close about the neck. the previous reign showed us, as a rule, a shirt cut very low in the neck, with the hem drawn together with laces; these laces pulled more tightly together, thus rucking the material into closer gathers, caused the cut of the shirt to be altered and made so that the hem frilled out round the neck--a collar, in fact. that this collar took all forms under certain limitations will be noticed, also that thick necked gentlemen--henry himself must have invented this--wore the collar of the shirt turned down and tied with strings of linen. the cuffs of the shirt, when they showed at the wrist, were often, as was the collar, sewn with elaborate designs in black thread or silk. now we take the waistcoat b. as you may see from the drawing showing the german form of dress, this waistcoat was really a petti-cote, a waistcoat with sleeves. this waistcoat was generally of richly ornamented material (henry in purple satin, embroidered with his initials and the tudor rose; henry in brocade covered with posies made in letters of fine gold bullion). the material was slashed and puffed or plain, and dependent for its effect on the richness of its embroidery or design of the fabric. it was worn with or without sleeves; in most cases the sleeves were detachable. [illustration: {two types of sleeve; eight hats for men}] the coat c. this coat was made with bases like a frock, a skirted coat, in fact; the material used was generally plain, of velvet, fine cloth, silk, or satin. the varieties of cut were numerous, and are shown in the drawings--open to the waist, open all the way in front, close to the neck--every way; where the coat was open in front it generally parted to show the bragetto, or jewelled pouch. it was a matter for choice spirits to decide whether or no they should wear sleeves to their coats, or show the sleeves of their waistcoats. no doubt madame fashion saw to it that the changes were rung sufficiently to make hay while the sun shone on extravagant tastes. the coat was held at the waist with a sash of silk tied in a bow with short ends. towards the end of the reign, foreshadowing the elizabethan jerkin or jacket, the custom grew more universal of the coat with sleeves and the high neck, the bases were cut shorter to show the full trunks, and the waistcoat was almost entirely done away with, the collar grew in proportion, and spread, like the tail of an angry turkey, in ruffle and folded pleat round the man's neck. [illustration: a man of the time of henry viii. ( - ) this is the extreme german-english fashion. in germany and switzerland this was carried to greater lengths.] the overcoat d is the gown of the previous reign cut, for the dandy, into a shorter affair, reaching not far below the knee; for the grave man it remained long, but, for all, the collar had changed to a wide affair stretching well over the shoulders. it was made, this collar, of such stuff as lined the cloak, maybe it was of fur, or of satin, of silk, or of cloth of gold. the tremendous folds of these overcoats gave to the persons in them a sense of splendour and dignity; the short sleeves of the fashionable overcoats, puffed and swollen, barred with rich _appliqué_ designs or bars of fur, reaching only to the elbow, there to end in a hem of fur or some rich stuff, the collar as wide as these padded shoulders, all told in effect as garments which gave a great air of well-being and richness to their owner. [illustration: {a man of the time of henry viii.}] of course, i suppose one must explain, the sleeves varied in every way: were long, short, full, medium full, according to taste. sometimes the overcoats were sleeveless. beneath these garments the trunks were worn--loose little breeches, which, in the german style, were bagged, puffed, rolled, and slashed in infinite varieties. let it be noticed that the cutting of slashes was hardly ever a straight slit, but in the curve of an elongated s or a double s curve. other slashes were squared top and bottom. [illustration: {three men of the time of henry viii.}] all men wore tight hose, in some cases puffed at the knee; in fact, the bagging, sagging, and slashing of hose suggested the separate breeches or trunks of hose. [illustration: a woman of the time of henry viii. ( - ) a plain but rich looking dress. the peculiar head-dress has a pad of silk in front to hold it from the forehead. the half-sleeves are well shown.] the shoes were very broad, and were sometimes stuffed into a mound at the toes, were sewn with precious stones, and, also, were cut and puffed with silk. [illustration: {a man of the time of henry viii.}] the little flat cap will be seen in all its varieties in the drawings. the irish were forbidden by law to wear a shirt, smock, kerchor, bendel, neckerchor, mocket (a handkerchor), or linen cap coloured or dyed with saffron; or to wear in shirts or smocks above seven yards of cloth. to wear black genet you must be royal; to wear sable you must rank above a viscount; to wear marten or velvet trimming you must be worth over two hundred marks a year. short hair came into fashion about . [illustration: {three men of the time of henry viii. (torso only); three types of shoe; two types of boot; a cod-piece}] so well known is the story of sir philip calthrop and john drakes the shoemaker of norwich, who tried to ape the fashion, that i must here allude to this ancestor of mine who was the first of the dandies of note, among persons not of the royal blood. the story itself, retold in every history of costume, is to this effect: drakes, the shoemaker, seeing that the county talked of sir philip's clothes, ordered a gown from the same tailor. this reached the ears of sir philip, who then ordered his gown to be cut as full of slashes as the shears could make it. the ruin of cloth so staggered the shoemaker that he vowed to keep to his own humble fashion in future. no doubt sir philip's slashes were cunningly embroidered round, and the gown made rich and sparkling with the device of seed pearls so much in use. this man's son, also sir philip, married amy, daughter of sir william boleyn, of blickling, norfolk. she was aunt to queen anne boleyn. the women one cannot call to mind pictures of this time without, in the first instance, seeing the form of henry rise up sharply before us followed by his company of wives. the fat, uxorious giant comes straight to the front of the picture, he dominates the age pictorially; and, as a fitting background, one sees the six women who were sacrificed on the political altar to pander to his vanity. katherine of aragon--the fine and noble lady--a tool of political desires, cast off after henry had searched his precious conscience, after eighteen years of married life, to find that he had scruples as to the spirituality of the marriage. anne boleyn, tainted with the life of the court, a pitiful figure in spite of all her odious crimes; how often must a ghost, in a black satin nightdress edged with black velvet, have haunted the royal dreams. and the rest of them, clustered round the vain king, while in the background the great figures of the time loom hugely as they play with the crowned puppets. [illustration: {eight stages in the evolution of the hood}] the note of the time, as we look at it with our eyes keen on the picture, is the final evolution of the hood. bit by bit, inch by inch, the plain fabric has become enriched, each succeeding step in an elaboration of the simple form; the border next to the face is turned back, then the hood is lined with fine stuff and the turnover shows this to advantage; then the sides are split and the back is made more full; then a tag is sewn on to the sides by which means the cut side may be fastened off the shoulders. the front is now stiffened and shaped at an angle, this front is sewn with jewels, and, as the angle forms a gap between the forehead and the point of the hood, a pad is added to fill in the vacant space. at last one arrives at the diamond-shaped head-dress worn in this reign, and, in this reign, elaborated in every way, elaborated, in fact, out of existence. in order to make the head-dress in its state you must make the white lining with the jewelled turnover as a separate cap. however, i think that the drawings speak for themselves more plainly than i can write. [illustration: {four types of head-dress for women}] every device for crowding jewels together was used, criss-cross, in groups of small numbers, in great masses. pendants were worn, hung upon jewelled chains that wound twice round the neck, once close to the neck, the second loop loose and passed, as a rule, under the lawn shift. large brooches decorated the bodices, brooches with drop ornaments, the body of the brooch of fine gold workmanship, many of them wrought in italy. the shift, delicately embroidered with black silk, had often a band of jewellery upon it, and this shift was square cut, following the shape of the bodice. the bodice of the gown was square cut and much stiffened to a box-like shape. the sleeves of the gown were narrow at the shoulders, and after fitting the arm for about six inches down from the shoulders, they widened gradually until, just below the elbow, they became square and very full; in this way they showed the false under-sleeve. this under-sleeve was generally made of a fine rich-patterned silk or brocade, the same stuff which formed the under-gown; the sleeve was a binding for the very full lawn or cambric sleeve which showed in a ruffle at the wrist and in great puffs under the forearm. the under-sleeve was really more like a gauntlet, as it was generally held together by buttoned tags; it was puffed with other coloured silk, slashed to show the shift, or it might be plain. now the sleeve of the gown was subject to much alteration. it was, as i have described, made very square and full at the elbow, and over this some ladies wore a false sleeve of gold net--you may imagine the length to which net will go, studied with jewels, crossed in many ways, twisted into patterns, sewn on to the sleeve in sloping lines--but, besides this, the sleeve was turned back to form a deep square cuff which was often made of black or coloured velvet, or of fur. [illustration: {a woman of the time of henry viii.; a head-dress}] in all this i am taking no account of the german fashions, which i must describe separately. look at the drawings i have made of the german fashion. i find that they leave me dumb--mere man has but a limited vocabulary when the talk comes to clothes--and these dresses that look like silk pumpkins, blistered and puffed and slashed, sewn in ribs, swollen, and altogether so queer, are beyond the furious dashes that my pen makes at truth and millinery. the costumes of the people of this age have grown up in the minds of most artists as being inseparable from the drawings of holbein and dürer. [illustration: {two women of the time of henry viii.}] surely, i say to myself, most people who will read this will know their holbein and dürer, between whom there lies a vast difference, but who between them show, the one, the estate of england, and the other, those most german fashions which had so powerful an influence upon our own. both these men show the profusion of richness, the extravagant follies of the dress of their time, how, to use the words of pliny: 'we penetrate into the bowels of the earth, digging veins of gold and silver, and ores of brass and lead; we seek also for gems and certain little pebbles. driving galleries into the depths, we draw out the bowels of the earth, that the gems we seek may be worn on the finger. how many hands are wasted in order that a single joint may sparkle! if any hell there were, it had assuredly ere now been disclosed by the borings of avarice and luxury!' [illustration: a woman of the time of henry viii. ( - ) notice the wide cuffs covered with gold network, and the rich panel of the under-skirt.] [illustration: {a woman of the time of henry viii.; three types of sleeve}] or in the writings of tertullian, called by sigismund feyerabendt, citizen and printer of frankfort, a 'most strict censor who most severely blames women:' 'come now,' says tertullian, 'if from the first both the milesians sheared sheep, and the chinese spun from the tree, and the tyrians dyed and the phrygians embroidered, and the babylonians inwove; and if pearls shone and rubies flashed, if gold itself, too, came up from the earth with the desire for it; and if now, too, no lying but the mirror's were allowed, eve, i suppose, would have desired these things on her expulsion from paradise, and when spiritually dead.' one sees by the tortured and twisted german fashion that the hair was plaited, and so, in curves and twists, dropped into coarse gold-web nets, thrust into web nets with velvet pouches to them, so that the hair stuck out behind in a great knob, or at the side in two protuberances; over all a cap like to the man's, but that it was infinitely more feathered and jewelled. then, again, they wore those hideous barbes or beard-like linen cloths, over the chin, and an infinite variety of caps of linen upon their heads--caps which showed always the form of the head beneath. [illustration: {a woman of the time of henry viii.; three types of hat for women}] in common with the men, their overcoats and cloaks were voluminous, and needed to be so if those great sleeves had to be stuffed into them; fur collars or silk collars, with facings to match, were rolled over to show little or great expanses of these materials. here, to show what dainty creatures were our lady ancestors, to show from what beef and blood and bone we come, i give you (keep your eye meanwhile upon the wonderful dresses) the daily allowance of a maid of honour. every morning at breakfast one chyne of beef from the kitchen, one chete loaf and one maunchet at the pantry bar, and one gallon of ale at the buttery bar. for dinner a piece of beef, a stroke of roast and a reward from the kitchen. a caste of chete bread from the pantry bar, and a gallon of ale at the buttery bar. afternoon--should they suffer the pangs of hunger--a maunchet of bread from the pantry bar, and a gallon of ale at the buttery bar. supper, a messe of pottage, a piece of mutton and a reward from the kitchen. a caste of chete bread from the pantry bar, and a gallon of ale at the buttery bar. after supper--to insure a good night's rest--a chete loaf and a maunchet from the pantry bar, and half a gallon of ale from the seller bar. four and a half gallons of ale! i wonder did they drink it all themselves? all this, and down in the mornings in velvets and silks, with faces as fresh as primroses. it is the fate of all articles of clothing or adornment, naturally tied or twisted, or folded and pinned by the devotees of fashion, to become, after some little time, made up, ready made, into the shapes which had before some of the owner's mood and personality about them. these hoods worn by the women, these wide sleeves to the gowns, these hanging sleeves to the overcoats, the velvet slip of under-dress, all, in their time, became falsified into ready-made articles. with the hoods you can see for yourselves how they lend themselves by their shape to personal taste; they were made up, all ready sewn; where pins had been used, the folds of velvet at the back were made steadfast, the crimp of the white linen was determined, the angle of the side-flap ruled by some unwritten law of mode. in the end, by a process of evolution, the diamond shape disappeared, and the cap was placed further back on the head, the contour being circular where it had previously been pointed. the velvet hanging-piece remained at the back of the head, but was smaller, in one piece, and was never pinned up, and the entire shape gradually altered towards, and finally into, the well-known mary queen of scots head-dress, with which every reader must be familiar. [illustration: {two women of the time of henry viii.}] it has often occurred to me while writing this book that the absolute history of one such head-dress would be of more help than these isolated remarks, which have to be dropped only to be taken up in another reign, but i have felt that, after all, the arrangement is best as it stands, because we can follow, if we are willing, the complete wardrobe of one reign into the next, without mixing the two up. it is difficult to keep two interests running together, but i myself have felt, when reading other works on the subject, that the way in which the various articles of clothing are mixed up is more disturbing than useful. the wide sleeve to the gown, once part and parcel of the gown, was at last made separate from it--as a cuff more than a sleeve naturally widening--and in the next reign, among the most fashionable, left out altogether. the upper part of the dress, once cut low and square to show the under-dress, or a vest of other stuff, was now made, towards the end of the reign, with a false top of other stuff, so replacing the under-dress. lacing was carried to extremes, so that the body was pinched into the hard roll-like appearance always identified with this time; on the other hand, many, wiser women i should say, were this the place for morals, preferred to lace loose, and show, beneath the lacing, the colour of the under-dress. many were the varieties of girdle and belt, from plain silk sashes with tasselled ends to rich jewelled chain girdles ending in heavy ornaments. for detail one can do no better than go to holbein, the master of detail, and to-day, when photographs of pictures are so cheap, and lives of painters, copiously illustrated, are so easily attainable at low prices, it is the finest education, not only in painting, but in tudor atmosphere and in matters of dress, to go straightway and study the master--that master who touched, without intention, on the moral of his age when he painted a miniature of the blessed thomas more on the back of a playing card. edward the sixth reigned six years: - . born, . the men and women [illustration: {a man of the time of edward vi.; a type of hat}] here we have a reign which, from its very shortness, can hardly be expected to yield us much in the way of change, yet it shows, by very slight movements, that form of growth which preludes the great changes to come. i think i may call a halt here, and proceed to tell you why this volume is commenced with henry vii., called the tudor and stuart volume, and ends with the cromwells. it is because, between these reigns, the tunic achieves maturity, becomes a doublet, and dies, practically just in the middle of the reign of charles ii. of pungent memory. the peculiar garment, or rather, this garment peculiar to a certain time, runs through its various degrees of cut. it is, at first, a loose body garment with skirts; the skirts become arranged in precise folds, the folds on the skirt are shortened, the shorter they become the tighter becomes the coat; then we run through with this coat in its periods of puffings, slashings, this, that, and the other sleeve, all coats retaining the small piece of skirt or basque, and so to the straight, severe cromwellian jerkin with the piece of skirt cut into tabs, until the volume ends, and hey presto! there marches into history a persian business--a frock coat, straight, trim, quite a near cousin to our own garment of afternoon ceremony. for a sign of the times it may be mentioned that a boy threw his cap at the host just at the time of the elevation. to queen elizabeth has been given the palm for the wearing of the first silk stockings in england, but it is known that sir thomas gresham gave a pair of silk stockings to edward vi. we now see a more general appearance in the streets of the flat cap upon the heads of citizens. the hood, that eminently practical head-gear, took long to die, and, when at last it went out of fashion, except among the labouring classes, there came in the cap that now remains to us in the cap of the beefeaters at the tower of london. [illustration: {two men of the time of edward vi.}] it is the time of jerkin or jacket, doublet or coat, and hose--generally worn with trunks, which were puffed, short knickerbockers. the flat cap, afterwards the statute cap as ordered by elizabeth, became, as i say, the ordinary head-wear, though some, no doubt, kept hoods upon their heavy travelling cloaks. this cap, which some of the bluecoat boys still wear, was enforced upon the people by elizabeth for the encouragement of the english trade of cappers. 'one cap of wool, knit, thicked, and dressed in england,' was to be worn by all over six years of age, except such persons as had 'twenty marks by year in lands, and their heirs, and such as have borne office of worship.' edward, according to the portraits, always wore a flat cap, the base of the crown ornamented with bands of jewels. the bluecoat boys, and long may they have the sense to keep to their dress, show us exactly the ordinary dress of the citizen, except that the modern knickerbocker has taken the place of the trunks. also, the long skirts of these blue coats were, in edward's time, the mark of the grave man, others wore these same skirts cut to the knee. that peculiar fashion of the previous reign--the enormously broad-shouldered appearance--still held in this reign to some extent, though the collars of the jerkins, or, as one may more easily know them, overcoats or jackets, open garments, were not so wide, and allowed more of the puffed shoulder of the sleeve to show. indeed, the collar became quite small, as in the windsor holbein painting of edward, and the puff in the shoulders not so rotund. the doublet of this reign shows no change, but the collar of the shirt begins to show signs of the ruff of later years. it is no larger, but is generally left untied with the ornamental strings hanging. antiquarian research has, as it often does, muddled us as to the meaning of the word 'partlet.' fairholt, who is very good in many ways, puts down in his glossary, 'partlet: a gorget for women.' then he goes on to say that a partlet may be goodness knows what else. minshein says they are 'part of a man's attire, as the loose collar of a doublet, to be set on or taken off by itself, without the bodies, as the picadillies now a daies, or as mens' bands, or womens' neckerchiefs, which are in some, or at least have been within memorie, called partlets.' sir f. madden says: 'the partlet evidently appears to have been the corset or habit-shirt worn at that period, and which so commonly occurs in the portraits of the time, generally made of velvet and ornamented with precious stones.' [illustration: a man and woman of the time of edward vi. ( - ) the change from the dress of the previous reign should be easily noticed, especially in the case of the woman. this dress is, of course, of the plainest in this time.] hall, the author of 'satires,' , speaks of a man, an effeminate dandy, as wearing a partlet strip. it appears to me, who am unwillingly forced into judging between so many learned persons, that, from all i have been able to gather from contemporary records and papers, the partlet is indeed, as minshein says, 'the loose collar of a doublet,' in reality the same thing as a shirt band. [illustration: {two men of the time of edward vi.}] henry viii. wore a band about his neck, the forerunner of the ruff. some of his bands were of silver cloth with ruffs to them, others, as i have shown, were wonderfully embroidered. in this case, then, the partlet is head of the family tree to our own collar, 'to be set on or taken off by itself,' and so by way of ruff, valued at threescore pound price apiece, to plain bands, to falling bands, laced neckcloth, stock--to the nine pennyworth of misery we bolt around our necks. dress, on the whole, is much plainer, sleeves are not so full of cuts and slashes, and they fit more closely to the arm. the materials are rich, but the ornament is not so lavish; the portrait of edward by gwillim stretes is a good example of ornament, rich but simple. shoes are not cut about at the toe quite with the same splendour, but are still broad in the toe. for the women, it may be said that the change towards simplicity is even more marked. the very elaborate head-dress, the folded, diamond-shaped french hood has disappeared almost entirely, and, for the rich, the half hoop, set back from the forehead with a piece of velvet or silk to hang down the back, will best describe the head-gear. from that to the centre-pointed hoop shows the trend of the shape. this latest form of woman's head apparel was born, i think, out of the folds of the linen cap worn in the house, and this, being repeated in the velvet night-caps, became the extreme of fashion. the drawing will show how the square end of the linen cap, falling in the centre of the circular cap-shape, cut the semicircle and overlapped it, thus giving the appearance later to become exaggerated into a form cut especially to that shape. (i try to be as lucid as i can manage, but the difficulties of describing such evolutions in any but tangled language i leave the reader to imagine.) [illustration: {two women of the time of edward vi.; two types of head-dress}] the women are also wearing cloth hoods, rather baggy cap-like hoods, with a hanging-piece behind. the most notable change is the collar of the gown, which suddenly springs into existence. it is a high collar and very open in front, showing a piece of the under-dress. on this collar is sewn--what i shall call--the woman's partlet, as the embroidery is often detachable and answers the same purpose as the man's partlet; this later became a separate article, and was under-propped with wires to hold it out stiffly. the same stiff-bodied appearance holds good, but in more simple dresses the skirts were not quite as voluminous as heretofore. with overcoats in general the hanging sleeve is being worn, the arm of the wearer coming out just below the puffed shoulder-piece. with these remarks we may safely go on to the reign of mary; another reign which does not yield us much in the way of clothes. mary reigned five years: - . born, . married, , philip of spain. the men and women i cannot do better than commence this chapter by taking you back to the evening of august , . mary, with her half-sister elizabeth, entered london on this date. at aldgate she was met by the mayor of london, who gave her the city sword. from the antiquarian repertory comes this account: 'first, the citizens' children walked before her magnificently dressed; after followed gentlemen habited in velvets of all sorts, some black, others in white, yellow, violet, and carnation; others wore satins or taffety, and some damasks of all colours, having plenty of gold buttons; afterwards followed the mayor, with the city companies, and the chiefs or masters of the several trades; after them, the lords, richly habited, and the most considerable knights; next came the ladies, married and single, in the midst of whom was the queen herself, mounted on a small white ambling nag, the housings of which were fringed with gold thread; about her were six lacqueys, habited in vests of gold. 'the queen herself was dressed in violet velvet, and was then about forty years of age, and rather fresh coloured. 'before her were six lords bareheaded, each carrying in his hand a yellow mace, and some others bearing the arms and crown. behind her followed the archers, as well of the first as the second guard. 'she was followed by her sister, named madame elizabeth, in truth a beautiful princess, who was also accompanied by ladies both married and single.' in the crowds about the city waiting to stare at the new queen as she passed by, one could recognise the various professions by their colours. the trained bands in white doublets with the city arms before and behind; lawyers in black; sheriffs and aldermen in furred gowns with satin sleeves; citizens in brown cloaks and workers in cloth or leather doublets; citizens' servants in blue liveries; gentlemen's servants in very gorgeous liveries of their masters' colours. here is a description of a gentleman's page and his clothes: 'one doublet of yelow million fustian, th'one halfe buttoned with peche-colour buttons, and the other half laced downwards; one payer of peche-colour, laced with smale tawnye lace; a graye hat with a copper edge rounde about it, with a band p'cell of the same hatt; a payer of watchet (blue) stockings. likewise he hath twoe clokes, th'one of vessey colour, garded with twoe yards of black clothe and twisted lace of carnacion colour, and lyned with crymsone bayes; and th'other is a red shipp russet colour, striped about th'cape and down the fore face, twisted with two rows of twisted lace, russet and gold buttons afore and uppon the shoulder, being of the clothe itself, set with the said twisted lace and the buttons of russet silk and gold.' this will give some notion of the elaborate liveries worn, and also it will show how, having understood the forms of the garments and the material which may be used, the rest, ornament and fancy, depend on the sense of the reader. a change has come over the streets, the town is full of spaniards come over with philip, and these bring with them many innovations in dress. the most noticeable is the high-peaked spanish hat, a velvet bag with a narrow brim, worn on one side of the head. there is, also, a hard-crowned hat, round the crown-base of which is a gold cord clasped by a jewel; a feather is stuck into this hat. yet the mass of citizens wear the flat cap, some of them, the older men, have a coif tied under their chins, and over this the flat cap. again, older men wear black velvet skull caps. [illustration: {a man of the time of mary}] with these spaniards comes, also, the first appearance of the ruff, very neat and small. although the overcoats of henry's and edward's reigns still form the principal wear, the short spanish cloak has come in, cut in full folds, and reaching not far below the waist. they also brought in the cloak with a turned up high collar; and some had sleeves to their cloaks. [illustration: a man of the time of mary ( - ) the half-way between the dress of and . a cloak very much of the period, and a tunic in the state of evolution towards the doublet.] one sees more beards and moustaches, short clipped beards, and beards with two points. shoes are now more to the shape of the foot, and high boots strapped up over the knee, also half-boots with the tops turned over to be seen. often, where the hose meet the trunks, these are turned down. [illustration: {a man of the time of mary; two types of boot}] the doublets become shaped more closely to the body, all showing the gradual change towards the elizabethan costume, but still retaining the characteristics of earlier times, as the long skirt to the doublet, and the opening to show the collar of the shirt, or partlet strip. ladies now show more hair, parted, as before, in the centre, but now puffed out at the sides. the new shape of head-dress becomes popular, and the upstanding collar to the gown is almost universal. the gowns themselves, though retaining the same appearance as before, full skirts, no trains, big sleeves, and split to show the under-gown, have the top part of the gown covering the bosom made of a separate material, as, for instance, a gown of fine cloth will have collar and yoke of velvet. women wear neat linen caps, made very plain and close to the head, with small ear-pieces. [illustration: {three men of the time of mary}] on the shoulders there is a fashion of wearing kerchiefs of linen or silk, white as a rule; white, in fact, is frequently used for dresses, both for men and women. the custom of carrying small posies of flowers comes in, and it is interesting to see the queen, in her portrait by antonio more, carrying a bunch of violets arranged exactly as the penny bunches sold now in our streets. there was, in most dresses, a great profusion of gold buttons, and the wearing of gold chains was common--in fact, a gold chain about the neck for a man, and a gold chain girdle for a woman, were part of the ordinary everyday dress. [illustration: {two types of head-dress for women; two types of collar}] you will realize that to one born in the reign of henry viii. the appearance of people now was very different, and, to anyone as far away as we are now, the intervening reigns of edward and mary are interesting as showing the wonderful quiet change that could take place in those few years, and alter man's exterior from the appearance of a playing-card, stiff, square, blob-footed, to the doublet and hose person with a cart-wheel of a ruff, which recalls to us elizabethan dress. [illustration: a woman of the time of queen mary ( - ) the habit of wearing flowers in the opening of the dress was frequent at this time, was, in fact, begun about this reign. one can easily see in this dress the ground-work of the elizabethan fashion, the earliest of which was an exaggeration of this costume.] elizabeth reigned years: - . the men [illustration: {a man of the time of elizabeth}] here we are in the middle of great discoveries with adventurers, with calvin and michael angelo, living and dying, and galileo and shakespeare seeing light--in the very centre and heart of these things, and we and they discussing the relations of the law to linen. how, they and we ask, are breeches, and slop-hose cut in panes, to be lined? in such writings we are bound to concern ourselves with the little things that matter, and in this reign we meet a hundred little things, little fussy things, the like of which we leave alone to-day. but this is not quite true. to-day a man, whether he cares to admit it or no, is for ever choosing patterns, colours, shades, styles to suit his own peculiar personality. from the cradle to the grave we are decked with useless ornaments--bibs, sashes, frills, little jackets, neat ties, different coloured boots, clothes of ceremony, clothes supposed to be in harmony with the country, down, at last, to the clothes of an old gentleman, keeping a vague reminder of twenty, thirty years ago in their style, and then--grave clothes. how well we know the elizabethan! he is a stock figure in our imagination; he figured in our first schoolboy romances, he strutted in the first plays we saw. because it was an heroic time we hark back to it to visualize it as best we may so that we can come nearer to our heroes--drake, raleigh, and the rest. the very names of the garments arouse associations--ruff, trunks, jumper, doublet, jerkin, cloak, bone-bobbin lace, and lace of flanders--they almost take one's breath away. here comes a gentleman in a great ruff, yellow-starched, an egg-shaped pearl dangles from one ear. one hand rests on his padded hip, the other holds a case of toothpicks and a napkin; he is going to his tavern to dine. his doublet is bellied like a pea's cod, and his breeches are bombasted, his little hat is stuck on one side and the feather in it curls over the brim. his doublet is covered with a herring-bone pattern in silk stitches, and is slashed all over. he is exaggerated, monstrous; he is tight-laced; his trunks stick out a foot all round him, and his walk is, in consequence, a little affected; but, for all that, he is a gallant figure. [illustration: {a man of the time of elizabeth}] behind him comes a gentleman in loose knee-breeches barred with velvet; at the knee he has a frill of lace. his jerkin is not stuffed out, and his ruff is not starched to stick up round his head. his hair is cut in three points, one over each ear and the third over the centre of his forehead, where we see a twisted lock tied with ribbon. we seem to know these people well--very well. the first, whose clothes are of white silk sewn with red and blue, whose trunk hose have clocks of silk sewn on them, reminds us of whom? and the second gentleman in green and red, with heels of red on his shoes? suddenly there flashes across our memory the picture of a lighted stage, a row of shops, a policeman, and then a well-known voice calling, 'hello, joey, here we are again!' here we are again after all these centuries--clown and pantaloon, the rustic with red health on his face, the old man in venetian slops--st. pantaloone--just as elizabethan, humour included, as anything can well be. then, enter harlequin in his clothes of gorgeous patches; the quick, almost invisible thief, the instigator of all the evil and magic. his patches and rags have grown to symmetrical pattern, his loose doublet has become this tight-fitting lizard skin of flashing gold and colours, but his atmosphere recalls the great days. to these enter --columbine--an early victorian lady, who contrives to look sweetly modest in the shortest and frilliest of skirts; she looks like a rose, a rose on two pink stalks. she, being so different, gives the picture just the air of magic incongruity. once, years ago, she was dressed in rags like harlequin, but i suppose that the age of sentiment clothed her in her ballet costume rather than see her in her costly tatters. we are a conservative nation, and we like our own old jokes so much that we have kept through the ages this extraordinary pleasing entertainment straight down, clothes and all, from the days of queen elizabeth. even as we dream of this, and the harlequinade dazzles our eyes, the dream changes--a new sound is heard, a sound from the remote past, too. we listen eagerly, clown, pantaloon, harlequin, and columbine vanish to the sound of the pan-pipes and the voice of punch. 'root-ti-toot, rootity-toot!' there, by the corner of the quiet square, is a tall box covered with checkered cloth. above a man's height is an opening, and on a tiny stage are two figures, one in a doublet stiffened out like a pea pod, with a ruff hanging loose about his neck, bands at his wrists, a cap on his head--punch. the other with a linen cap and a ruff round her neck--judy. below, on the ground by the gentleman who bangs a drum and blows on the pan-pipes stuck in his muffler, is a dog with a ruff round his neck--toby. and we know--delightful to think of it--that a box hidden by the check covering, contains many curiously dressed figures--all friends of ours. the world is certainly curious, and i suppose that an elizabethan revisiting us to-day would find but one thing the same, the humour of the harlequinade and the punch and judy show. now let us get to the dull part. if you wish to swim in a sea of allusions there are a number of books into which you may dive-- 'microcynicon.' 'pleasant quippes for upstart newfangled gentlewomen.' hall's 'satires.' stubbes' 'anatomie of abuses.' 'the cobbler's prophesie.' 'the debate between pride and lowliness.' 'the letting of humours blood in the head vaine.' 'the wits nurserie.' euphues' 'golden legacie.' 'every man out of his humour.' if you do not come out from these saturated with detail then you will never absorb anything. for the shapes, the doublet was a close-fitting garment, cut, if in the italian fashion, down to a long peak in front. they were made without sleeves, like a waistcoat, and an epaulette overhung the armhole. the sleeves were tied into the doublet by means of points (ribbons with metal tags). these doublets were for a long time stuffed or bombasted into the form known as 'pea's cod bellied' or 'shotten-bellied.' the jerkin was a jacket with sleeves, and was often worn over the doublet. the sleeves of the jerkin were often open from shoulder to wrist to show the doublet sleeve underneath. these sleeves were very wide, and were ornamented with large buttons. [illustration: {a man of the time of elizabeth; a travelling cloak; a jerkin}] the jornet was a loose travelling cloak. the jumper a loose jerkin, worn for comfort or extra clothing in winter. both doublet and jerkin had a little skirt or base. [illustration: {three types of doublet; two types of epaulette}] the very wide breeches known as trunks were worn by nearly everybody in the early part of the reign, until they vied with venetian breeches for fashion. they were sometimes made of a series of wide bands of different colours placed alternately; sometimes they were of bands, showing the stuffed trunk hose underneath. they were stuffed with anything that came handy--wool, rags, or bran--and were of such proportions that special seats were put in the houses of parliament for the gentlemen who wore them. the fashion at its height appears to have lasted about eight years. [illustration: a man of the time of elizabeth ( - ) he wears a double linen collar, nearly as usual at this time as the ruff. his trunk hose will be seen through the openings of his trunks. his boots are held up by two leather straps. his cloak is an italian fashion.] the venetian breeches were very full at the top and narrowed to the knee; they were slashed and puffed, or paned like lattice windows with bars of coloured stuffs or gold lace. the french breeches were tight and ruffled in puffs about the thighs. the stockings were of yarn, or silk, or wool. they were gartered about the knee, and pulled up over the breeches; but the man most proud of his leg wore no garters, but depended on the shape of his leg and the fit of his stocking to keep the position. these stockings were sewn with clocks at the ankles, and had various patterns on them, sometimes of gold or silver thread. openwork stockings were known. [illustration: {a man of the time of elizabeth}] the stockings and breeches were called, if the breeches were short and the stockings all the way up the leg, trunk hose and trunks; if the breeches came to the knee and the stockings just came over them, they were known as upper stocks and nether stocks. the shoes were shaped to the foot, and made of various leathers or stuffs; a rose of ribbon sometimes decorated the shoes. there were shoes with high cork soles called moyles. of course, there were gallants who did things no one else thought of doing--wearing very square-toed shoes, for instance, or cock feathers in their hair. the sturtops were boots to the ankle. [illustration: {three types of hat for men; three type of breeches and stockings}] as for the hair, we have the love-lock tied with ribbons, the very same that we see caricatured in the wigs of clown and pantaloon. we have, also, hair left fairly long and brushed straight back from the forehead, and short-cropped hair. beards and moustaches are worn by most. they wore little cloaks covered with embroidery, lace, sometimes even with pearls. for winter or for hard travelling the jornet or loose cloak was worn. the older and more sedate wore long stuff gowns with hanging sleeves; these gowns, made to fit at the waist and over the trunks, gave an absurd noah's ark-like appearance to the wearers. those who cared nothing for the fashions left their gowns open and wore them loose. [illustration: {a man of the time of elizabeth}] the common people wore simple clothes of the same cut as their lords--trunks or loose trousers, long hose, and plain jerkins or doublets. in the country the fashions alter, as a rule, but little; however, in this reign corydon goes to meet sylvia in somewhat fashionable clothes. lodge says: 'his holiday suit marvellous seemly, in a russet jacket, welted with the same, and faced with red worsted, having a pair of blue camblet sleeves, bound at the wrists with four yellow laces, closed before very richly with a dozen pewter buttons. his hose of gray kersey, with a large slop barred all across the pocket holes with three fair guards, stitched on either side with red thread.' his stockings are also gray kersey, tied with different coloured laces; his bonnet is green, and has a copper brooch with the picture of st. dennis. 'and to want nothing that might make him amorous in his old days, he had a fair shirt-band of white lockeram, whipt over with coventry blue of no small cost.' [illustration: {three men of the time of elizabeth; a sleeve}] the hats worn vary in shape from steeple-crowned, narrow-brimmed hats, to flat, broad-crowned hats; others show the coming tendency towards the broad-brimmed jacobean hat. round these hats were hatbands of every sort, gold chains, ruffled lace, silk or wool. [illustration: {five types of hat for men}] i think we may let these gallants rest now to walk among the shades--a walking geography of clothes they are, with french doublets, german hose, spanish hats and cloaks, italian ruffs, flemish shoes; and these with chalked faces, fuzzed periwigs of false hair, partlet strips, wood busks to keep straight slim waists, will make the shades laugh perhaps, or perhaps only sigh, for there are many in that dim wardrobe of fashions who are still more foolish, still more false, than these elizabethans. the women now this is the reign of the ruff and the monstrous hoop and the wired hair. as a companion to her lord, who came from the hands of his barber with his hair after the italian manner, short and round and curled in front and frizzed, or like a spaniard, long hair at his ears curled at the two ends, or with a french love-lock dangling down his shoulders, she--his lady--sits under the hands of her maid, and tries various attires of false _hair_, principally of a yellow colour. every now and again she consults the looking-glass hanging on her girdle; sometimes she dresses her hair with chains of gold, from which jewels or gold-work tassels hang; sometimes she, too, allows a love-lock to rest upon her shoulder, or fall negligently on her ruff. even the country girl eagerly waits for news of the town fashions, and follows them as best she may. in the early part of the reign the simple costume of the previous reign was still worn, and even the court ladies were quietly, though richly, dressed. in the first two years the ruff remained a fairly small size, and was made of holland, which remained stiff, and held the folds well; but later, there entered several dutch ladies, headed by mistress dingham vander plasse, of flanders, in , who taught her pupils the art of starching cambric, and the art of folding, cutting, and pinching ruffs at five pounds a head, and the art of making starch, at the price of one pound. first, the lady put on her underpropper of wire and holland, and then she would place with a great nicety her ruff of lace, or linen, or cambric. one must understand that the ruff may be great or small, that only the very fashionable wore such a ruff as required an underpropper, and that the starched circular ruff would stand by itself without the other appliance. [illustration: {twelve types of head-dress and collar or ruff for women}] before the advent of the heavily-jewelled and embroidered stomacher, and the enormous spread of skirt, the dress was a modification of that worn by the ladies in the time of henry viii. first, a gown cut square across the bosom and low over the shoulders, full sleeves ending in bands of cambric over the hands (these sleeves slit to show puffs of cambric from the elbow to the wrist), the skirt full and long, but without any train; the whole fitted well to the figure as far as the waist, and very stiff in front. over this a second gown, generally of plain material, split above in a v-shape, split below at the waist, and cut away to show the under-gown. the sleeves of this gown were wide, and were turned back or cut away just by the elbow. both gowns were laced up the back. this second gown had, as a rule, a high, standing collar, which was lined with some rich silk or with lace. [illustration: a woman of the time of elizabeth ( - )] [illustration: {four women of the time of elizabeth}] this shape gave way to a more exaggerated form, and finally to many varieties of exaggeration. the lady might wear a jerkin like in shape to a man's, except that often it was cut low and square over the bosom, and was not stuffed quite so much in front; every variety of rich material was used for this jerkin, and the sleeves were as varied as were the man's, split and tied with ribbons. false sleeves attached at the shoulders, and left to hang loose, puffed, slashed all over, with or without bands of cambric or lace at the wrists; these bands sometimes were frills, sometimes stiffened and turned back. no person except royalty might wear crimson except in under-garments, and the middle class were not allowed to wear velvet except for sleeves. this jerkin was sometimes worn buttoned up, like a man's, to the neck, and when the hoops came into fashion and were worn high up near the waist, the basque or flounce at the bottom of the jerkin was made long, and pleated full to the top of the hooped petticoat. the plainer fashion of this was a gown buttoned high--up to the ruff--and opened from the waist to the feet to show a full petticoat of rich material; this was the general wear of the more sober-minded. sometimes a cape was worn over the head and shoulders, not a shaped cape, but a plain, oblong piece of stuff. the ladies sometimes wore the shaped cape, with the high collar that the men wore. the french hood with a short liripipe was worn by country ladies; this covered the hair, showing nothing but a neat parting in front. the openwork lace bonnet, of the shape so well known by the portraits of queen mary of scotland, is not possible to exactly describe in writing; one variety of it may be seen in the line drawing given. it is made of cambric and cut lace sewn on to wires bent into the shape required. [illustration: {two women of the time of elizabeth}] in such a time of extravagance in fashion the additions one may make to any form of dress in the way of ribbons, bows, sewn pearls, cuts, slashes, and puffs are without number, and i can only give the structure on which such ornamental fripperies can be placed. the hair, for example, can be dressed with pearls, rings of gold, strings of pearls, feathers, or glass ornaments. men and women wore monstrous earrings, but curiously enough this fashion was more common to men than women. hats were interchangeable, more especially the trim hat with a feather, in shape like those worn by the yeoman of the guard, but smaller. the shoulder pinions of the jerkins were puffed, slashed, and beribboned in every way. the wing sleeves, open from the shoulder all the way down, were so long sometimes as to reach the ground, and were left hanging in front, or thrown back over the shoulders, the better to display the rich under-sleeve. the ladies' shoes were cork-soled, high-heeled, and round-toed. the girdles were of every stuff, from gold cord, curiously knotted, to twisted silk; from these hung looking-glasses, and in them were stuck the embroidered and scented gloves. ladies went masked about the streets and in the theatres, or if they wished to be unconventional, they sat in the playing booths unmasked, their painted faces exposed to the public gaze. the shoes with the high cork soles, to which i have just alluded, were in common use all over europe, and were of all heights--from two inches to seven or eight--and they were called _chopines_. they were not such a foolish custom as might appear, for they protected the wearer from the appalling filth of the streets. the tall chopines that hamlet mentions were really very high-soled slippers, into which the richly-embroidered shoes were placed to protect them when the ladies walked abroad. the shoes were made of leather and velvet stitched with silk, embroidered with gold, or stamped with patterns, slashed sometimes, and sometimes laced with coloured silk laces. some ladies wore bombazines, or a silk and cotton stuff made at norwich, and bone lace made at honiton, both at that time the newest of english goods, although before made in flanders; and they imported italian lace and venetian shoes, stuffed their stomachers with bombast, and wore a frontlet on their french hoods, called a _bongrace_, to keep their faces from sunburn. cambric they brought from cambrai in france, and calico from calicut in india--the world was hunted high and low for spoil to deck these gorgeous, stiff, buckramed people, so that under all this load of universal goods one might hardly hope to find more than a clothes prop; in fact, one might more easily imagine the overdressed figure to be a marvellous marionette than a decent englishwoman. [illustration: {four women of the time of elizabeth}] [illustration: {two women of the time of elizabeth}] falstaff will not wear coarse dowlas shirts, dandies call for ostrich feathers, ladies must have coventry blue gowns and italian flag-shaped fans; everybody is in the fashion from milkmaids to ladies of the court, each as best as they may manage it. the jew moves about the streets in his long gaberdine and yellow cap, the lady pads about her garden in tall chopines, and the gentleman sits down as well as he may in his bombasted breeches and smokes herbe de la reine in a pipe of clay, and the country woman walks along in her stamell red petticoat guarded or strapped with black, or rides past to market in her over-guard skirts. let us imagine, by way of a picture of the times, the queen in her bedchamber under the hands of her tiring-women: she is sitting before a mirror in her embroidered chemise of fine raynes linen, in her under-linen petticoat and her silk stockings with the gold thread clocks. over these she wears a rich wrap. slippers are on her feet. in front of her, on a table, are rouge and chalk and a pad of cotton-wool--already she has made up her face, and her bright bird-like eyes shine in a painted mask, her strong face, her hawk-like nose and her expressionless mouth reflect back at her from the mirror. beside the rouge pot is a nuremberg egg watch, quietly ticking in its crystal case. one of the women brings forward a number of attires of false hair, golden and red, and from these the queen chooses one. it is a close periwig of tight red curls, among which pearls and pieces of burnished metal shine. with great care this wig is fastened on to the queen's head, and she watches the process with her bright eyes and still features in the great mirror. then, when this wig is fixed to her mind, she rises, and is helped into the privie coat of bones and buckram, which is laced tightly by the women at her back. now comes the moment when they are about to fasten on her whalebone hips the great farthingale--over which her voluminous petticoats and skirts will fall. the wheel of bone is tied with ribbons about her waist, and there securely fastened. after some delay in choosing an under-gown, she then puts on several linen petticoats, one over another, to give the required fulness to her figure; and then comes the stiffly-embroidered under-gown--in this case but a petticoat with a linen bodice which has no sleeves. [illustration: a woman of the time of elizabeth ( - ) compare this with the other plate showing the opposite fashion.] with great care she seats herself on a broad chair, and a perfect army of ruffs is laid before her. as the tire-woman is displaying the ruffs she talks to the queen, and tells her that peculiar story, then current, of the lady of antwerp, who was in a great way because she could not get her ruff to set aright, and when in a passion she called upon the devil to take it, as if in answer to the summons a young and handsome gentleman appeared. together they tried the ruff, and the young gentleman suddenly strangled the lady and vanished. now when they came to carry away the coffin of the lady some days later, it was found that no one could lift it, so, in the end, it was opened, and there, to the surprise of everybody, sat a great black cat setting a ruff. the queen's eyes twinkle on this story, for she has a great fund of dry humour--and so, to the business of the ruffs. first one and then another is discarded; and finally the choice falls between one of great size, shaped like a catherine-wheel and starched blue, and the other of three depths but not of such great circumference, starched yellow, after the receipt of mrs. turner, afterwards hung at tyburn in a ruff of the same colour. the queen wavers, and the tire-woman recommends the smaller bands: 'this, madame, is one of those ruffs made by mr. higgins, the tailor near to st. james's, where he has set up an establishment for the making of such affairs--it is a picadillie, and would----' the queen stops her and chooses the ruff; it is very much purled into folds, and it bristles with points. the women approach with a crimson over-gown and slips it over the queen's head--it is open in front to show the rich petticoat, and it has great stuffed wings, epaulettes, or mahoitres on the shoulders. the tight-fitting bodice of the gown is buttoned up to the throat, and is stuffed out in front to meet the fall of the hoops; it has falling sleeves, but the real sleeves are now brought and tied to the points attached to the shoulders of the gown. they are puffed sleeves of the same material as the under-gown, and the falling sleeves of the upper gown are now tied with one or two bows across them so that the effect of the sleeves is much the same as the effect of the skirts; an embroidered stuff showing in the opening of a plain material. these are called virago sleeves. this done, the strings of pearls are placed around the queen's neck, and then the underpropper or supportasse of wire and holland is fastened on her neck, and the picadillie ruff laid over it. the queen exchanges her slippers for cork-soled shoes, stands while her girdle is knotted, sees that the looking-glass, fan, and pomander are hung upon it, and then, after a final survey of herself in the glass, she calls for her muckinder or handkerchief, and--queen elizabeth is dressed. so in this manner the queen struts down to posterity, a wonderful woman in ridiculous clothes, and in her train we may dimly see mr. higgins, the tailor, who named a street without knowing it, a street known in every part of the civilized world; but, nowadays, one hardly thinks of connecting piccadilly with a lace ruff.... shakespeare and clothes there are not so many allusions to elizabethan dress in the plays of shakespeare as one might suppose upon first thought. one has grown so accustomed to shakespeare put on the stage in elaborate dresses that one imagines, or one is apt to imagine, that there is a warrant for some of the dresses in the plays. in some cases he confounds the producer and the illustrator by introducing garments of his own date into historical plays, as, for example, coriolanus. here are the clothes allusions in that play: 'when you cast your stinking greasy caps, you have made good work, you and your apron-men.' 'go to them with this bonnet in your hand.' 'enter coriolanus in a gown of humility.' 'matrons fling gloves, ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchers.' 'the kitchen malkin pins her richest lockram[a] 'bout her reechy neck.' [a] 'lockram' is coarse linen. 'our veiled dames.' 'commit the war of white and damask in their nicely gawded cheeks to the wanton and spoil of phoebus' burning kisses.' 'doublets that hangmen would bury with these that wore them.' i have not kept the lines in verse, but in a convenient way to show their allusions. in 'pericles' we have mention of ruffs and bases. pericles says: 'i am provided of a pair of bases.' certainly the bases might be made to appear roman, if one accepts the long slips of cloth or leather in roman military dress as being bases; but shakespeare is really--as in the case of the ruffs--alluding to the petticoats of the doublet of his time worn by grave persons. bases also apply to silk hose. in 'titus andronicus' we have: 'an idiot holds his bauble for his god.' julius cæsar is mentioned as an elizabethan: 'he plucked ope his doublet.' the carpenter in 'julius cæsar' is asked: 'where is thy leather apron and thy rule?' the mob have 'sweaty night-caps.' cleopatra, in 'antony and cleopatra,' says: 'i'll give thee an armour all of gold.' the 'winter's tale,' the action of which occurs in pagan times, is full of anachronisms. as, for instance, whitsun pastorals, christian burial, an emperor of russia, and an italian fifteenth-century painter. also: 'lawn as white as driven snow; cyprus[b] black as ere was crow; gloves as sweet as damask roses; masks for faces and for noses; bugle-bracelet, necklace amber, perfume for a lady's chamber; golden quoifs and stomachers, pins and polking-sticks of steel.' [b] thin stuff for women's veils. so, you see, autolycus, the pedlar of these early times, is spoken of as carrying polking-sticks with which to stiffen ruffs. shylock, in 'the merchant of venice,' should wear an orange-tawny bonnet lined with black taffeta, for in this way were the jews of venice distinguished in . in 'the tempest' one may hear of rye-straw hats, of gaberdines, rapiers, and a pied fool's costume. in 'the two gentlemen of verona' we hear: 'why, then, your ladyship must cut your hair.' 'no, girl; i'll tie it up in silken strings with twenty odd conceited true-love knot; to be fantastic may become a youth of greater time than i shall show to be.' also: 'since she did neglect her looking-glass, and threw her sun-expelling mask away.' many ladies at this time wore velvet masks. 'the merry wives of windsor' gives us a thrummed hat, a muffler or linen to hide part of the face, gloves, fans. falstaff says: 'when mistress bridget lost the handle of her fan, i took it up my honour thou had'st it not.' also: 'the firm fashion of thy foot would give an excellent motion to thy fait in a semicircled farthingale.' 'twelfth night' is celebrated for us by malvolio's cross garters. sir toby, who considers his clothes good enough to drink in, says: 'so be these boots too: an they be not, let them hang themselves in their own straps.' sir toby also remarks to sir andrew upon the excellent constitution of his leg, and sir andrew replied that: 'it does indifferent well in a flame-coloured stock.' the clown says: 'a sentence is but a cheveril[c] glove to a good wit.' [c] 'cheveril' is kid leather. in 'much ado about nothing' we learn of one who lies awake ten nights, 'carving the fashion of his doublet.' also of one who is 'in the shape of two countries at once, as a german from the waist downwards all slops, and a spaniard from the hip upward, no doublet.' again of a gown: 'cloth of gold, and cuts, and laced with silver set with pearls down sides, side sleeves, and skirts, round under borne with a bluish tinsel.' in 'as you like it' one may show a careless desolation by ungartered hose, unbanded bonnet, unbuttoned sleeve, and untied shoe. 'the taming of the shrew' tells of serving-men: 'in their new fustian and their white jackets.... let their blue coats be brushed, and their garters of an indifferent knit.' also we have a cap 'moulded on a porringer.' 'love's labour's lost' tells of: 'your hat penthouse-like o'er the shop of your eyes; with your arms crossed on your thin belly doublet like a rabbit on a spit; or your hands in your pocket like a man after the old painting.' 'all's well that ends well': 'why dost thou garter up thy arms o' this fashion? dost make a hose of thy sleeves?' 'yonder's my lord your son with a patch of velvet on's face: whether there be a scar under't or no, the velvet knows.... there's a dozen of 'em, with delicate fine hats and most courteous feathers, which bow the head and nod at every man.' in 'henry iv.,' part ii., there is an allusion to the blue dress of beadles. also: 'about the satin for my short cloak and slops.' 'the smooth-pates do now wear nothing but high shoes, and bunches of keys at their girdles.' 'to take notice how many pair of silk stockings thou hast, or to bear the inventory of thy shirts.' there are small and unimportant remarks upon dress in other plays, as dancing-shoes in 'romeo and juliet' and in 'henry viii.': 'the remains of fool and feather that they got in france.' 'tennis and tall stockings, short blistered breeches and those types of travel.' but in 'hamlet' we find more allusions than in the rest. hamlet is ever before us in his black: ''tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, nor customary suits of solemn black.' 'lord hamlet, with his doublet all unbraced; no hat upon his head; his stockings fouled, ungartered, and down-goes to his ancle; pale as his shirt.' 'your ladyship is nearer to heaven than when i saw you last, by the altitude of a chopine.'[d] [d] shoes with very high soles. 'o, it offends me to the soul to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion into tatters.' 'with two provincial roses on my ragged shoes, my sea-gown scarfed about me.' having read this, i think it will be seen that there is no such great difficulty in costuming any play, except perhaps this last. there have been many attempts to put 'hamlet' into the clothes of the date of his story, but even when the rest of the characters are dressed in skins and cross-gartered trousers, when the viking element is strongly insisted upon, still there remains the absolutely elizabethan figure in inky black, with his very elizabethan thoughts, the central figure, almost the great symbol of his age. james the first reigned twenty-two years: - . born . married , anne of denmark. the men this couplet may give a little sketch of the man we should now see before us: 'his ruffe is set, his head set in his ruff; his reverend trunks become him well enough.' we are still in the times of the upstanding ruff; we are watching, like sartorial gardeners, for the droop of this linen flower. presently this pride of man, and of woman too, will lose its bristling, super-starched air, and will hang down about the necks of the cavaliers; indeed, if we look very carefully, we see towards the end of the reign the first fruits of elegance born out of elizabethan precision. now in such a matter lies the difficulty of presenting an age or a reign in an isolated chapter. in the first place, one must endeavour to show how a carolean gentleman, meeting a man in the street, might say immediately, 'here comes one who still affects jacobean clothes.' or how an elizabethan lady might come to life, and, meeting the same man, might exclaim, 'ah! these are evidently the new fashions.' the carolean gentleman would notice at first a certain air of stiffness, a certain padded arrangement, a stiff hat, a crisp ornament of feathers. he would see that the doublet varied from his own in being more slashed, or slashed in many more degrees. he would see that it was stiffened into an artificial figure, that the little skirt of it was very orderly, that the cut of the sleeves was tight. he would notice also that the man's hair was only half long, giving an appearance not of being grown long for beauty, but merely that it had not been cut for some time. he would be struck with the preciseness, the correct air of the man. he would see, unless the stranger happened to be an exquisite fellow, that his shoes were plain, that the 'roses' on them were small and neat. his trunks, he would observe, were wide and full, but stiff. mind you, he would be regarding this man with seventeenth-century eyes--eyes which told him that he was himself an elegant, careless fellow, dressed in the best of taste and comfort--eyes which showed him that the jacobean was a nice enough person in his dress, but old-fashioned, grandfatherly. to us, meeting the pair of them, i am afraid that a certain notion we possess nowadays of cleanliness and such habits would oppress us in the company of both, despite the fact that they changed their linen on sundays, or were supposed to do so. and we, in our absurd clothes, with hard hats on our heads, and stiff collars tight about our necks, creases in our trousers, and some patent invention of the devil on our feet, might feel that the jacobean gentleman looked and was untidy, to say the least of it, and had better be viewed from a distance. to the elizabethan lady the case would be reversed. the man would show her that the fashions for men had been modified since her day; she would see that his hair was not kept in, what she would consider, order; she would see that his ruff was smaller, and his hat brim was larger. she would, i venture to think, disapprove of him, thinking that he did not look so 'smart.' for ourselves, i think we should distinguish him at once as a man who wore very large knickerbockers tied at the knee, and, in looking at a company of men of this time, we should be struck by the padding of these garments to a preposterous size. [illustration: {three men of the time of james i.; three types of shoe; one type of boot}] there has come into fashion a form of ruff cut square in front and tied under the chin, which can be seen in the drawings better than it can be described; indeed, the alterations in clothes are not easy to describe, except that they follow the general movement towards looseness. the trunks have become less like pumpkins and more like loose, wide bags. the hats, some of them stiff and hard, show in other forms an inclination to slouch. doublets are often made loose, and little sets of slashes appear inside the elbow of the sleeves, which will presently become one long slash in cavalier costumes. we have still: 'morisco gowns, barbarian sleeves, polonian shoes, with divers far fetcht trifles; such as the wandering english galant rifles strange countries for.' but we have not, for all that, the wild extravaganza of fashions that marked the foregoing reign. indeed, says another writer, giving us a neat picture of a man: 'his doublet is so close and pent as if he feared one prison would not be strong enough to keep his soul in, but his taylor makes another; and trust me (for i knew it when i loved cupid) he does endure much pain for poor praise of a neat fitting suit.' to wear something abnormally tight seems to be the condition of the world in love, from james i. to david copperfield. naturally, a man of the time might be riding down the street across a scotch plaid saddle cloth and pass by a beggar dressed in clothes of henry viii.'s time, or pass a friend looking truly elizabethan--but he would find generally that the short, swollen trunks were very little worn, and also--another point--that a number of men had taken to walking in boots, tall boots, instead of shoes. [illustration: {a man of the time of james i.; a variation of breeches}] as he rides along in his velvet cloak, his puffed and slashed doublet, his silken hose, his hands gloved with embroidered gloves, or bared to show his rings, smelling of scents, a chain about his neck, he will hear the many street cries about him: 'will you buy any sand, mistress?' 'brooms, brooms for old shoes! pouch-rings, boots, or buskings! will ye buy any new brooms?' 'new oysters, new oysters! new, new cockles!' 'fresh herrings, cockels nye!' 'will you buy any straw?' 'hay yee any kitchen stuff, maids?' 'pippins fine! cherrie ripe, ripe, ripe!' [illustration: a man of the time of james i. ( - ) he shows the merging of the elizabethan fashion into the fashion of charles i. the stiff doublet and the loose breeches, the plain collar, and the ribbons at the knees. on his hawking glove is a hawk, hooded and jessed.] [illustration: {four men of the time of james i.; the bottom of a doublet; an alternative collar; shoe and stocking}] and he will pass apprentices, most of them still in flat caps, blue doublets, and white cloth breeches and stockings, sewn all in one piece, with daggers on their backs or at their sides. and then, travelling with his man, he will come to his inn. for the life of me, though it has little to do with dress, i must give this picture of an inn from fynes moryson, which will do no harm, despite the fact that sir walter besant quoted some of it. 'as soon as a passenger comes to an inn, the servants run to him' (these would be in doublet and hose of some plain colour, with shirt-collars to the doublets turned down loose; the trunks would be wide and to the knee, and there buttoned), 'and one takes his horse and walks him till he be cool, then rubs him and gives him meat, yet i must say that they are not much to be trusted in this last point, without the eye of the master or his servant to oversee them. another servant gives the passenger his private chamber, and kindles his fire, the third pulls off his boots and makes them clean' (these two servants would be wearing aprons). 'then the host or hostess visits him, and if he will eat with the host, or at a common table with the others, his meal will cost him sixpence, or in some places but fourpence, yet this course is less honourable and not used by gentlemen; but if he will eat in his chamber' (he will retain his hat within the house), 'he commands what meats he will according to his appetite, and as much as he thinks fit for him and his company, yea, the kitchen is open to him, to command the meat to be dressed as he likes best; and when he sits at table, the host or hostess will accompany him, if they have many guests, will at least visit him, taking it for courtesy to be bid sit down; while he eats, if he have company especially, he shall be offered music, which he may freely take or refuse, and if he be solitary the musicians will give him good day with music in the morning. 'it is the custom and in no way disgraceful to set up part of supper for his breakfast. 'lastly, a man cannot more freely command at home in his own house than he may do in his inn, and at parting if he give some few pence to the chamberlin and ostler they wish him a happy journey.' beyond this and the drawings i need say no more. the drawings will show how the points of a doublet may be varied, the epaulette left or taken away, the little skirts cut or left plain. they show you how a hat may be feathered and the correct shape of the hat; how breeches may be left loose at the knee, or tied, or buttoned; of the frills at the wrist and the ruffs at the neck--of everything, i hope, that is necessary and useful. [illustration: {a man of the time of james i.}] the women 'what fashion will make a woman have the best body, tailor?' 'a short dutch waist, with a round catherine-wheel fardingale, a close sleeve, with a cartoose collar, or a pickadell.' i think, with a little imagination, we can see the lady: add to our picture a feather fan, a man's beaver hat with a fine band round it stuck with a rose or a feather, shoes with ribbons or roses, and jewels in the hair--and i think the lady walks. yet so difficult do i find it to lead her tripping out of the wardrobe into the world, i would remind myself of the laws for servants in this time: 'and no servant may toy with the maids under pain of fourpence.' it is a salutary warning, and one that must be kept in the mind's eye, and as i pluck the lady from the old print, hold her by the dutch waist, and twirl her round until the catherine-wheel fardingale is a blurred circle, and the pickadell a mist of white linen, i feel, for my prying, like one who has toyed under pain of fourpence. [illustration: {high collar and head-dress for a woman}] there are many excellent people with the true historical mind who would pick up my lady and strip her in so passionless a way as to leave her but a mass of latin names--so many bones, tissues, and nerves--and who would then label and classify her wardrobe under so many old english and french, dutch and spanish names, bringing to bear weighty arguments several pages long over the derivation of the word 'cartoose' or 'pickadell,' write in notebooks of her little secret fineries, bear down on one another with thundering eloquence upon the relation of st. catherine and her wheel upon seventeenth-century dressmaking, and so confuse and bewilder the more simple and less learned folk that we should turn away from the eve of the seventeenth century and from the heap of clothes upon the floor no whit the wiser for all their pains. not that i would laugh, even smile, at the diligence of these learned men who in their day puzzled the father of tristram shandy over the question of breeches, but, as it is in my mind impossible to disassociate the clothes and the woman, i find it difficult to follow their dissertations, however enlightening, upon early english cross-stitch. and now, after i have said all this, i find myself doing very nearly the same thing. you will find, if you look into the lady's wardrobe, that she has other fashions than the close sleeve: she has a close sleeve as an under sleeve, with a long hanging sleeve falling from the elbow; she has ruffs at her wrist of pointed lace, more cuffs than ruffs, indeed. she does not always follow the fashion of the short dutch waist as she has, we can see, a dress with a long waist and a tapering front to the bodice. some dresses of hers are divided in the skirts to show a barred petticoat, or a petticoat with a broad border of embroidery. sometimes she is covered with little bows, and at others with much gold lacing; and now and again she wears a narrow sash round her waist tied with a bow in front. she is taking more readily to the man's hat, feathered and banded, and in so doing is forced to dress her hair more simply and do away with jewellery on her forehead; but, as is often the case, she dresses her hair with plumes and jewels and little linen or lace ruffs, and atop of all wears a linen cap with side wings to it and a peak in the centre. her ruff is now, most generally, in the form of an upstanding collar to her dress, open in front, finishing on her shoulders with some neat bow or other ornament. it is of lace of very fine workmanship, edged plain and square, or in all manner of fancy scallops, circles, and points. sometimes she will wear both ruff and collar, the ruff underneath to prop up her collar at the back to the required modish angle. sometimes her bodice will finish off in a double catherine-wheel. her maid is a deal more simple; her hair is dressed very plainly, a loop by the ears, a twist at the nape of the neck. she has a shawl over her shoulders, or a broad falling collar of white linen. she has no fardingale, but her skirts are full. her bodice fits, but is not stiffened artificially; her sleeves are tight and neat, and her cuffs plain. upon her head is a broad-brimmed plain hat. [illustration: {comparison of head-dress between a lady and a maid}] she has a piece of gossip for her mistress: at chelsea they are making a satin dress for the princess of wales from chinese silkworm's silk. on another day comes the news that the constable of castile when at whitehall subscribed very handsomely to the english fashion, and kissed the queen's hands and the cheeks of twenty ladies of honour. the fashion for dresses of pure white, either in silk, cloth, or velvet has affected both men and women; and the countries which gave a name to the cuts of the garments are evidenced in the literature of the time. how a man's breeches or slops are spanish; his waist, like the lady's, dutch; his doublet french; his and her sleeves and wings on the shoulders french; their boots polonian, cloaks german, hose venetian, hats from everywhere. these spruce coxcombs, with looking-glasses set in their tobacco boxes, so that they may privately confer with them to see-- 'how his band jumpeth with his piccadilly, whether his band-strings balence equally, which way his feather wags,' strut along on their high-heeled shoes, and ogle any lady as she passes. another fashion common to those in the high mode was to have the bodice below the ruff cut so low as to show all the breast bare, and this, together with the painting of the face, gave great offence to the more sober-minded. the ruffs and collars of lace were starched in many colours--purple, goose-green, red and blue, yellow being completely out of the fashion since the murder of sir thomas overbury by mrs. anne turner, the friend of the countess of somerset; and this because mrs. turner elected to appear at the gallows in a yellow ruff. [illustration: a woman of the time of james i. ( - ) here is seen the wide fardingale, or farthingale, the elaborate under-skirt, and the long hanging sleeves of the gown. also, the very tall upstanding ruff or collar of lace.] [illustration: {a woman of the time of james i.; a ruff and hat; an alternative dress}] as for the fardingale, it was having its last fling. this absurd garment had its uses once--so they say who write scandal of a spanish princess, and served to conceal her state upon a certain time; but when ladies forsook the fashion, they wore a loose, almost shapeless, gown, open from the waist to the feet, and a plain, unstiffened jerkin or jacket underneath. such a conglomeration is needed (if you remember we are looking over a lady's wardrobe) to make a lady of the time: such stuffs as rash, taffeta paropa, novats, shagge, filizetta, damask, mochado. rash is silk and stuff, taffeta is thin silk, mochado is mock velvet. there, again, one may fall into an antiquarian trap; whereas mochado is a manufacture of silk to imitate velvet, mokkadoe is a woollen cloth, and so on; there is no end to it. still, some may read and ask themselves what is a rebatoe. it is the collar-like ruff worn at this time. in this medley of things we shall see purles, falles, squares, buskes, tires, fans, palisadoes (this is a wire to hold the hair next to the first or duchess knot), puffs, ruffs, partlets, frislets, fillets, pendulets, bracelets, busk-points, shoe-ties, shoe roses, bongrace bonnets, and whalebone wheels--eve! all this, for what purpose? to turn out one of those extraordinary creatures with a cart-wheel round the middle of their persons. as the reign died, so did its fashions die also: padded breeches lost some of their bombast, ruffs much of their starch, and fardingales much of their circumference, and the lady became more elizabethan in appearance, wore a roll under her hair in front, and a small hood with a jewelled frontlet on her forehead. it was the last of the tudor dress, and came, as the last flicker of a candle, before the new mode, fashion's next footstep. charles the first reigned twenty-four years: - . born . married , henrietta of france. the men [illustration: {a man of the time of charles i.}] this surely is the age of elegance, if one may trust such an elegant and graceful mind as had vandyck. in all the wonderful gallery of portraits he has left, these silvery graceful people pose in garments of ease. the main thing that i must do is to show how, gradually, the stiff jacobean dress became unfrozen from its clutch upon the human form, how whalebones in men's jackets melted away, breeches no longer swelled themselves with rags and bran, collars fell down, and shirts lounged through great open spaces in the sleeves. it was the time of an immaculate carelessness; the hair was free, or seemed free, to droop in languid tresses on men's shoulders, curl at pretty will on men's foreheads. shirts were left open at the neck, breeches were loosed at the knee. do i revile the time if i say that the men had an air, a certain supercilious air, of being dukes disguised as art students? [illustration: {six styles of hair and beard}] we know, all of us, the vandyck beard, the carolean moustache brushed away from the lips; we know lord pembroke's tousled--carefully tousled--hair; kiligrew's elegant locks. from the head to the neck is but a step--a sad step in this reign--and here we find our friend the ruff utterly tamed; 'pickadillies, now out of request,' writes one, tamed into the falling band, the vandyck collar, which form of neck-dress has never left the necks and shoulders of our modern youthful prodigies; indeed, at one time, no youthful genius dare be without one. the variations of this collar are too well known; of such lace as edged them and of the manner of their tying, it would waste time to tell, except that in some instances the strings are secured by a ring. [illustration: {a doublet}] such a change has come over the doublet as to make it hardly the same garment; the little slashes have become two or three wide cuts, the sleeves are wide and loose with, as a rule, one big opening on the inside of the arm, with this opening embroidered round. the cuffs are like little collars, turned back with point-lace edges. the actual cut of the doublet has not altered a great deal, the ordinary run of doublet has the pointed front, it is tied round the waist with a little narrow sash; but there has arrived a new jacket, cut round, left open from the middle of the breast, sometimes cut so short as to show the shirt below bulged out over the breeches. sometimes you will see one of these new short jackets with a slit in the back, and under this the man will be wearing the round trunks of his father's time. [illustration: {two men of the time of charles i.; a type of jacket; a type of breeches}] the breeches are mostly in two classes--the long breeches the shape of bellows, tied at the knee with a number of points or a bunch of coloured ribbons; or the breeches cut the same width all the way down, loose at the knee and there ornamented with a row of points (ribbons tied in bows with tags on them). a new method of ornamentation was this notion of coloured ribbons in bunches, on the breeches, in front, at the sides, at the knees--almost anywhere--and also upon the coats. for some time the older fashioned short round cape or cloak prevailed, but later, large silk cloaks used as wraps thrown across the shoulders were used as well. the other cloaks had straps, like the modern golf cape, by which the cloak might be allowed to fall from the shoulders. a custom arrived of wearing boots more frequently, and there was the tall, square-toed, high-heeled boot, fitting up the leg to just below the knee, without a turnover; the stiff, thick leather, blacking boot with broad, stiff tops, also not turned back; and there was also the result of the extraordinary melting, crumpled dismissal of all previous stiffness, whereby the old tall boot drooped down until it turned over and fell into a wide cup, all creases and wrinkles, nearly over the foot, while across the instep was a wide, shaped flap of leather. this last falling boot-top was turned in all manner of ways by those who cared to give thought to it. [illustration: {sixteen types of boot and shoe}] [illustration: a man of the time of charles i. ( - ) he has wrapped his blue cloak over his arm, a usual method of carrying the cloak. he is simply dressed, without bunches of ribbons or points.] the insides of the tops of these boots were lined with lace or silk, and the dandy turned them down to give full show to the lining--this turning of broad tops was such an inconvenience that he was forced to use a straddled walk when he wore his boots thus. canes were carried with gold, silver, or bone heads, and were ornamented further by bunches of ribbon. coming again to the head, we find ribbon also in use to tie up locks of hair; delicate shades of ribbon belonging to some fair lady were used to tie up locks to show delicate shades of love. some men wore two long love-locks on either side of the face, others wore two elaborately-curled locks on one side only. the hats, as the drawings will show, are broad in the brim and of an average height in the crown, but a dandy, here and there, wore a hat with next to no brim and a high crown. most hats were feathered. there is a washing tally in existence of this time belonging, i think, to the duke of rutland, which is very interesting. it is made of beech-wood covered with linen, and is divided into fifteen squares. in the centre of each square there is a circle cut, and in the circle are numbers. over the number is a plate with a pin for pivot in the centre, a handle to turn, and a hole to expose a number. above each circle are the names of the articles in this order: ruffs. bandes. cuffes. handkercher. cappes. shirtes. halfshirts. boote hose. topps. sockes. sheetes. pillowberes. table clothes. napkins. towells. topps are linen boot-frills, and halfshirts are stomachers. there remains little to be said except that black was a favourite dress for men, also light blue and cream-coloured satin. bristol paste diamonds were in great demand, and turquoise rings were very fashionable. for the rest, vandyck's pictures are available to most people, or good reproductions of them, and those, with a knowledge of how such dress came into being, are all that can be needed. the women there is one new thing you must be prepared to meet in this reign, and that will best be described by quoting the title of a book written at this time: 'a wonder of wonders, or a metamorphosis of fair faces into foul visages; an invective against black-spotted faces.' by this you may see at once that every humour was let loose in the shapes of stars, and moons, crowns, slashes, lozenges, and even a coach and horses, cut in black silk, ready to be gummed to the faces of the fair. knowing from other histories of such fads that the germ of the matter lies in a royal indisposition, we look in vain for the conceited history of the princess and the pimple, but no doubt some more earnest enquirer after truth will hit upon the story--this toy tragedy of the dressing-table. for the dress we can do no better than look at the 'ornatus muliebris anglicanus,' that wonderfully careful compilation by hollar of all the dresses in every class of society. it is interesting to see how the jacobean costume lost, by degrees, its formal stiffness, and first fardingale and then ruff vanished. early in the reign the high-dressed hair was abandoned, and to take its place the hair was dressed so that it was gathered up by the ears, left parted on the crown, and twisted at the back to hold a plume or feather. time went on, and hair-dressing again altered; the hair was now taken in four parts: first the hair was drawn well back off the forehead, then the two side divisions were curled neatly and dressed to fall over the ears, the fourth group of hair was neatly twisted and so made into a small knot holding the front hair in its place. later on came the fringe of small curls, as in the portrait of queen henrietta at windsor by vandyck. we see at first that while the ruff, or rather the rebatoe--that starched lace high collar--remained, the fardingale having disappeared, left, for the upper gown, an enormous quantity of waste loose material that had previously been stretched over the fardingale and parted in front to show the satin petticoat. from this there sprung, firstly, a wide, loose gown, open all the way down and tied about the middle with a narrow sash, the opening showing the boned bodice of the under-dress with its pointed protruding stomacher, the woman's fashion having retained the form of the man's jerkin. below this showed the satin petticoat with its centre strip or band of embroidery, and the wide border of the same. in many cases the long hanging sleeves were kept. then there came the fall of the rebatoe and the decline of the protruding figure, and with this the notion of tying back the full upper skirt to show more plainly the satin petticoat, which was now losing the centre band of ornament and the border. with this revolution in dress the disappearing ruff became at first much lower and then finally vanished, and a lace collar, falling over the shoulders, took its place. this gave rise to two distinct fashions in collars, the one as i have described, the other a collar from the neck, like a large edition of the man's collar of that time. this collar came over the shoulders and in two points over the breast, sometimes completely hiding the upper part of the dress. the stiff-boned bodice gave place to one more easily cut, shorter, with, in place of the long point, a series of long strips, each strip ornamented round the hem. at this time the sleeves, different from the old-fashioned tight sleeves, were very full indeed, and the sleeve of the loose over-gown was made wider in proportion, and was tied across the under-sleeve above the elbow by a knot of ribbons, the whole ending in a deep cuff of lace. then the over-gown disappeared, the bodice became a short jacket laced in front, openly, so as to show the sleeveless bodice of the same material and colour as the petticoat; the sleeves were not made so wide, and they were cut to come just below the elbow, leaving the wrists and forearm bare. in winter a lady often wore one of those loose dutch jackets, round and full, with sleeves just long enough to cover the under-sleeves, the whole lined and edged with fur; or she might wear a short circular fur-lined cape with a small turned-over collar. in summer the little jacket was often discarded, and the dress was cut very simply but very low in the bust, and they wore those voluminous silk wraps in common with the men. the little sashes were very much worn, and ornaments of knots of ribbon or points (that is, a ribbon with a metal tag at either end) were universal. the change of fashion to short full sleeves gave rise to the turned back cuff of the same material as the sleeve, and some costumes show this short jacket with its short sleeves with cuffs, while under it shows the dress with tight sleeves reaching to the wrists where were linen or lace cuffs, a combination of two fashions. part of the lady's equipment now was a big feather fan, and a big fur muff for winter; also the fashion of wearing long gloves to reach to the elbow came in with the advent of short sleeves. naturally enough there was every variety of evolution from the old fashion to the new, as the tight sleeves did not, of course, become immediately wide and loose, but by some common movement, so curious in the history of such revolutions, the sleeve grew and grew from puffs at the elbow to wide cuffs, to wide shoulders, until the entire sleeve became swollen out of all proportion, and the last little pieces of tightness were removed. the form of dress with cuffs to the jackets, lacing, sashes, bunches of ribbon, and looped up skirts, lasted for a great number of years. it was started by the death of the fardingale, and it lived into the age of hoops. these ladies wore shoe-roses upon their shoes, and these bunches of ribbon, very artificially made up, cost sometimes as much as from three to thirty pounds a pair, these very expensive roses being ornamented with jewels. from these we derive the saying, 'roses worth a family.' in the country the women wore red, gray, and black cloth homespun, and for riding they put on safeguards or outer petticoats. the wide-brimmed beaver hat was in general wear, and a lady riding in the country would wear such a hat or a hood and a cloak and soft top boots. women's petticoats were called plackets as well as petticoats. with the careless air that was then adopted by everybody, which was to grow yet more carefully careless in the reign of charles ii., the hair was a matter which must have undivided attention, and centuries of tight dressing had not improved many heads, so that when the loose love-locks and the dainty tendrils became the fashion, many good ladies and gentlemen had recourse to the wigmaker. from this time until but an hundred years ago, from the periwig bought for sexton, the fool of henry viii., down to the scratches and bobs of one's grandfather's youth, the wigmaker lived and prospered. to-day, more secretly yet more surely, does the maker of transformations live and prosper, but in the days when to be wigless was to be undressed the perruquier was a very great person. [illustration: a woman of the time of charles i. ( - ) notice the broad collar and deep cuffs. the dress is simple but rich. the bodice is laced with the same colour as the narrow sash. the hair is arranged in a series of elaborate curls over the forehead.] this was the day, then, of satins, loosened hair, elbow sleeves, and little forehead curls. the stiffness of the older times will pass away, but it had left its clutch still on these ladies; how far it vanished, how entirely it left costume, will be seen in the next royal reign, when nell gwynne was favourite and sir peter lely painted her. engravings by hollar these excellent drawings by hollar need no explanation. they are included in this book because of their great value as accurate contemporary drawings of costume. [illustration: {four women}] [illustration: {four women}] [illustration: {four women}] [illustration: {four women}] [illustration: {four women}] [illustration: {four women}] [illustration: {four women}] [illustration: {four women}] the cromwells - . the men and women 'i left my pure mistress for a space, and to a snip-snap barber straight went i; i cut my hair, and did my corps uncase of 'parel's pride that did offend the eye; my high crowned hat, my little beard also, my pecked band, my shoes were sharp at toe. 'gone was my sword, my belt was laid aside, and i transformed both in looks and speech; my 'parel plain, my cloak was void of pride, my little skirts, my metamorphosed breech, my stockings black, my garters were tied shorter, my gloves no scent; thus marched i to her porter.' [illustration: {a man of the time of the cromwells; a type of jacket}] it is a question, in this time of restraint, of formalism, where anything could be made plain, cut in a cumbrous fashion, rendered inelegant, it was done. the little jackets were denuded of all forms of frippery, the breeches were cut straight, and the ornaments, if any, were of the most severe order. hats became broader in the brim, boots wider in the tops, in fact, big boots seemed almost a sign of heavy religious feeling. the nice hair, love-locks, ordered negligence all vanished, and plain crops or straight hair, not over long, marked these extraordinary people. it was a natural revolt against extravagance, and in some more sensible minds it was not carried to excess; points and bows were allowable, though of sombre colours. sashes still held good, but of larger size, ruffs at the wrists were worn, but of plain linen. the bands or collars varied in size according to the religious enthusiasm of the wearers, but all were plain without lace edgings, and were tied with plain strings. black, dark brown, and dull gray were the common colours, relieved sometimes, if the man was wearing a sleeveless coat, by the yellow and red-barred sleeves of the under-jacket, or possibly by coloured sleeves sewn into the coat under the shoulder-wings. overcoats were cut as simply as possible, though they did not skimp the material but made them wide and loose. [illustration: a cromwellian man ( - ) notice the careful plainness of his dress, and his very wide-topped boots.] [illustration: {three men of the time of the cromwells; a type of sleeve; two types of breeches and boot; a type of collar}] the women dressed their hair more plainly, the less serious retained the little bunches of side curls, but the others smoothed their hair away under linen caps or black hoods tied under their chins. another thing the women did was to cut from their bodices all the little strips but the one in the middle of the back, and this they left, like a tail, behind. some, of course, dressed as before with the difference in colour and in ornament that made for severity. it had an effect on the country insomuch as the country people ceased to be extravagant in the materials for garments and in many like ways, and so lay by good fortunes for their families--these families coming later into the gay court of charles ii. had all the more to lavish on the follies of his fashions. [illustration: {a man of the time of the cromwells; a type of coat}] the puritan is as well-known a figure as any in history; an intelligent child could draw you a picture or describe you a puritan as well as he could describe the noah of noah's ark. he has become part of the stock for an academy humourist, a thousand anecdote pictures have been painted of him; very often his nose is red, generally he has a book in his hand, laughing maids bring him jacks of ale, jeering cavaliers swagger past him: his black cloak, board shoes, wide geneva bands are as much part of our national picture as punch or harlequin. [illustration: a woman of the time of the cromwells ( - ) this is not one of the most puritanical dresses, but shows how the richness of the reign of charles i. was toned down. she carries a muff in her hand, wears a good wide collar and cuffs, and neat roses on her shoes.] [illustration: {two women of the time of the cromwells; a type of jacket; two types of head-dress for women}] the puritaness is also known. she is generally represented as a sly bird in sombre clothes; her town garments, full skirts, black hood, deep linen collar are shown to hide a merry-eyed lady, her country clothes, apron, striped petticoat, bunched up skirt, linen cap, her little flaunt of curls show her still mischievous. the pair of them, in reality religious fanatics, prepared a harvest that they little dreamt of--a harvest of extravagant clothes and extravagant manners, when the country broke loose from its false bondage of texts, scriptural shirts, and religious petticoats, and launched into a bondage, equally false, of low cut dresses and enormous periwigs. in the next reign you will see an entirely new era of clothes--the doublet and jerkin, the trunks and ruffs have their last eccentric fling, they become caricatures of themselves, they do all the foolish things garments can do, and then, all of a sudden, they vanish--never to be taken up again. hair, long-neglected, is to have its full sway, wigs are the note for two centuries, so utterly different did the man become in the short space of thirty-five years, that the buck of the restoration and the beau of the jacobean order would stare helplessly at each other, wondering each to himself what manner of fool this was standing before him. [illustration: a woman of the time of the cromwells ( - ) this shows the modification of the dress of the time of charles i. not an extreme change, but an endeavour towards simplicity.] charles the second reigned twenty-five years: - . born . married, , katherine of portugal. the men and women [illustration: {two men of the time of charles ii.}] england, apparently with a sigh of relief, lays aside her hair shirt, and proves that she has been wearing a silk vest under it. ribbon-makers and wig-makers, lace-makers, tailors, and shoemakers, pour out thankful offerings at the altar of fashion. one kind of folly has replaced another; it is only the same goddess in different clothes. the lamp that winked and flickered before the stern black figure in geneva bands and prim curls is put to shame by the flare of a thousand candles shining on the painted face, the exposed bosom, the flaunting love-locks of this carolean deity. [illustration: {two men of the time of charles ii.}] we have burst out into periwigs, monstrous, bushy; we have donned petticoat breeches ruffled like a pigeon; we have cut our coats till they are mere apologies, serving to show off our fine shirts; and we have done the like with our coat-sleeves, leaving a little cuff glittering with buttons, and above that we have cut a great slit, all to show the marvel of our linen. those of us who still wear the long wide breeches adorn them with heavy frills of deep lace, and sew bunches of ribbons along the seams. we tie our cravats in long, stiff bows or knot them tight, and allow the wide lace ends to float gracefully. [illustration: a man of the time of charles ii. ( - ) this shows the dress during the first half of the reign. the feature of groups of ribboning is shown, with the short sleeve, the full shirt, and the petticoat.] our hats, broad-brimmed and stiff, are loaded with feathers; our little cloaks are barred with silk and lace and gold cord; our shoes are square-toed and high-heeled, and are tied with a long-ended bow of ribbon. [illustration: {a man of the time of charles ii.; a type of sleeve; the back of a coat}] ribbon reigns triumphant: it ties our periwigs into bunches at the ends; it hangs in loops round our waists; it ties our shirt-sleeves up in several places; it twists itself round our knees. it is on our hats and heads, and necks and arms, and legs and shoes, and it peers out of the tops of our boots. divines rave, moralists rush into print, to no purpose. the names seem to convey a sense of luxury: dove-coloured silk brocade, rhingrave breeches, white lutestring seamed all over with scarlet and silver lace, sleeves whipt with a point lace, coat trimmed and figured with silver twist or satin ribbon; canvas, camblet, galloon and shamey, vellam buttons and taffety ribbons. the cannons, those bunches of ribbons round our knees, and the confidents, those bunches of curls by our ladies' cheeks, do not shake at the thunderings of mr. baxter or other moral gentlemen who regard a maypole as a stinking idol. mr. hall writes on 'the loathsomeness of long hair,' mr. prynne on 'the unloveliness of lovelocks,' and we do not care a pinch of rappe. little moustaches and tiny lip beards grow under careful treatment, and the ladies wear a solar system in patches on their cheeks. the ladies soon escaped the bondage of the broad puritan collars, and all these had hid was exposed. the sleeves left the arms bare to the elbow, and, being slit above and joined loosely by ribbons, showed the arm nearly to the shoulder. the sleeves of these dresses also followed the masculine fashion of little cuffs and tied-up linen under-sleeves. the bodices came to a peak in front and were round behind. the skirts were full, satin being favoured, and when held up showed a satin petticoat with a long train. the ladies, for a time, indulged in a peculiar loop of hair on their foreheads, called a 'fore-top,' which gave rise to another fashion, less common, called a 'taure,' or bull's head, being an arrangement of hair on the forehead resembling the close curls of a bull. the loose curls on the forehead were called 'favorites'; the long locks arranged to hang away from the face over the ears were called 'heart-breakers'; and the curls close to the cheek were called 'confidents.' ladies wore cloaks with baggy hoods for travelling, and for the mall the same hats as men, loaded with feathers. [illustration: a man of the time of charles ii. ( - ) this is the change which came over men's dress on or about october, . it is the new-fashioned vest or body-coat introduced to the notice of charles by john evelyn.] [illustration: {a man of the time of charles ii.}] [illustration: {a man of the time of charles ii.}] i am going to leave the change in dress during this reign to the next chapter, in which you will read how it struck mr. pepys. this change separates the old world of dress from the new; it is the advent of frocked coats, the ancestor of our frock-coat. it finishes completely the series of evolutions beginning with the old tunic, running through the gown stages to the doublet of elizabethan times, lives in the half coat, half doublet of charles i., and ends in the absurd little jackets of charles ii., who, sartorially, steps from the end of the middle ages into the new ages, closes the door on a wardrobe of brilliant eccentricity, and opens a cupboard containing our first frock-coat. pepys and clothes it is not really necessary for me to remind the reader that one of the best companions in the world, samuel pepys, was the son of a tailor. possibly--i say possibly because the argument is really absurd--he may have inherited his great interest in clothes from his father. you see where the argument leads in the end: that all men to take an interest in clothes must be born tailors' sons. this is no more true of adam, who certainly did interest himself, than it is of myself. pepys was educated at st. paul's school, went to trinity college, cambridge, got drunk there, and took a scholarship. he married when he was twenty-two a girl of fifteen, the daughter of a huguenot. he was born in , three years after the birth of charles ii., of outrageous but delightful memory, and he commenced his diary in , the year in which charles entered london, ending it in , owing to his increasing weakness of sight. he was made secretary to the admiralty in , in he became a member of parliament, was sent to the tower as a papist in , and released in . in he became president of the royal society, and he died in , and is buried in st. olave's, crutched friars. pepys mentions, in , his coat with long skirts, fur cap, and buckles on his shoes. the coat was, doubtless, an old-fashioned cromwellian coat with no waist. later he goes to see mr. calthrop, and wears his white suit with silver lace, having left off his great skirt-coat. he leaves mr. calthrop to lay up his money and change his shoes and stockings. he mentions his scarlet waistclothes, presumably a sash, and regards mr. john pickering as an ass because of his feathers and his new suit made at the hague. he mentions his linning stockings and wide cannons. this mention of wide cannons leads me to suppose that at this time any ornament at the knee would be called cannons, whether it was a part of the breeches or the stockings, or a separate frill or bunch of ribbons to put on. on july , still in the same year, comes home his fine camlett cloak and gold buttons; also a silk suit. later he buys a jackanapes coat with silver buttons. then he and mr. pin, the tailor, agree upon a velvet coat and cap ('the first i ever had'). he buys short black stockings to wear over silk ones for mourning. [illustration: {two women of the time of charles ii.}] on october he says that, long cloaks being out of fashion, he must get a short one. he speaks of a suit made in france for my lord costing £ . he mentions ladies' masks. in his wife has a pair of peruques of hair and a new-fashioned petticoat of sancenett with black, broad lace. smocks are mentioned, and linen petticoats. he has a riding-suit with close knees. his new lace band is so neat that he is resolved they shall be his great expense. he wears a scallop. in he has a new black cloth suit, with white linings under all--as the fashion is--to appear under the breeches. [illustration: a woman of the time of charles ii. ( - ) you will notice her hair in ringlets tied with a ribbon, and dressed over a frame at the sides.] the queen wears a white-laced waistcoat and a crimson short petticoat. ladies are wearing hats covered with feathers. [illustration: {three types of wig for men}] god willing, he will begin next week to wear his three-pound periwig. he has spent last month (october) £ on miss pepys, and £ on his clothes. he has silk tops for his legs and a new shag gown. he has a close-bodied coat, light-coloured cloth with a gold edge. he sees lady castlemaine in yellow satin with a pinner on. in his wife begins to wear light-coloured locks. in there is a new fashion for ladies of yellow bird's-eye hood. there is a fear of the hair of periwigs during the plague. even in the middle of the plague pepys ponders on the next fashion. in women begin to wear buttoned-up riding-coats, hats and periwigs. on october the king says he will set a thrifty fashion in clothes. at this momentous date in history we must break for a minute from our friend pepys, and hear how this came about. evelyn had given the king his pamphlet entitled 'tyrannus, or the mode.' the king reads the pamphlet, and is struck with the idea of the persian coat. a long pause may be made here, in which the reader may float on a mental cloud back into the dim ages in the east, and there behold a transmogrified edition of his own frock-coat gracing the back of some staid philosopher. evelyn had also published 'mundus muliebris; or, the ladies' dressing-room unlocked.' [illustration: {a woman of the time of charles ii.}] so, only one month after the great fire of london, only a short time before the dutch burnt ships in the medway, only a year after the plague, king charles decides to reform the fashion. by october the new vests are made, and the king and the duke of york try them on. on the fifteenth the king wears his in public, and says he will never change to another fashion. 'it is,' says pepys, 'a long cassocke close to the body, of black cloth and pinked with white silk under it, and a coat over it, and the legs ruffled with black ribband like a pigeon's legs.' [illustration: {a woman of the time of charles ii.}] the ladies, to make an alteration, are to wear short skirts. nell gwynne had a neat ankle, so i imagine she had a hand in this fashion. on october the king, seeing lord st. alban in an all black suit, says that the black and white makes them look too much like magpies. he bespeaks one of all black velvet. sir philip howard increases in the eastern fashion, and wears a nightgown and a turban like a turk. on november pepys buys a vest like the king's. on november the king of france, louis xiv., who had declared war against england earlier in the year, says that he will dress all his footmen in vests like the king of england. however, fashion is beyond the power of royal command, and the world soon followed in the matter of the persian coat and vest, even to the present day. [illustration: {a woman of the time of charles ii.}] next year, , pepys notes that lady newcastle, in her velvet cap and her hair about her ears, is the talk of the town. she wears a number of black patches because of the pimples about her mouth, she is naked-necked (no great peculiarity), and she wears a _just au corps_, which is a close body-coat. [illustration: {a woman of the time of charles ii.}] pepys notices the shepherd at epsom with his wool-knit stockings of two colours, mixed. he wears a new camlett cloak. the shoe-strings have given place to buckles, and children wear long coats. in his wife wears a flower tabby suit ('everybody in love with it'). he is forced to lend the duke of york his cloak because it rains. his barber agrees to keep his periwig in order for £ a year. he buys a black bombazin suit. in his wife wears the new french gown called a sac; he pays s. for his new belt. his wife still wears her old flower tabby gown. so ends the dress note in the diary. james the second reigned four years: - . born . married, , anne hyde; , mary of modena. the men and women [illustration: {two men of the time of james ii.; a type of sleeve}] in such a short space of time as this reign occupies it is not possible to show any great difference in the character of the dress, but there is a tendency, shown over the country at large, to discard the earlier beribboned fashions, and to take more seriously to the long coat and waistcoat. there is a tendency, even, to become more buttoned up--to present what i can only call a frock-coat figure. the coat became closer to the body, and was braided across the front in many rows, the ends fringed out and held by buttons. the waistcoat, with the pockets an arm's length down, was cut the same length as the coat. breeches were more frequently cut tighter, and were buttoned up the side of the leg. the cuffs of the sleeves were wide, and were turned back well over the wrist. [illustration: a man of the time of james ii. ( - ) the body-coat has now become the universal fashion, as have also the wide knee-breeches. buckles are used on the shoes instead of strings.] [illustration: {a man of the time of james ii.}] of course the change was gradual, and more men wore the transitional coat than the tight one. by the coat in its changing stages i mean such a coat as this: the short coat of the early charles ii. period made long, and, following the old lines of cut, correspondingly loose. the sleeves remained much the same, well over the elbow, showing the white shirt full and tied with ribbons. the shoe-strings had nearly died out, giving place to a buckle placed on a strap well over the instep. there is a hint of growth in the periwig, and of fewer feathers round the brim of the hat; indeed, little low hats with broad brims, merely ornamented with a bunch or so of ribbons, began to become fashionable. [illustration: {a woman of the time of james ii.}] swords were carried in broad baldricks richly ornamented. the waistclothes of mr. pepys would, by now, have grown into broad sashes, with heavily fringed ends, and would be worn round the outside coat; for riding, this appears to have been the fashion, together with small peaked caps, like jockey caps, and high boots. the ladies of this reign simplified the dress into a gown more tight to the bust, the sleeves more like the men's, the skirt still very full, but not quite so long in the train. black hoods with or without capes were worn, and wide collars coming over the shoulders again came into fashion. the pinner, noticed by pepys, was often worn. [illustration: a woman of the time of james ii. ( - ) notice the broad collar again in use, also the nosegay. the sleeves are more in the mannish fashion.] but the most noticeable change occurs in the dress of countryfolk and ordinary citizens. the men began to drop all forms of doublet, and take to the long coat, a suit of black grogram below the knees, a sash, and a walking-stick; for the cold, a short black cloak. in the country the change would be very noticeable. the country town, the countryside, was, until a few years back, distinctly puritanical in garb; there were elizabethan doublets on old men, and wide cromwellian breeches, patched doubtless, walked the market-place. hair was worn short. now the russet brown clothes take a decided character in the direction of the persian coat and knickerbockers closed at the knee. the good-wife of the farmer knots a loose cloth over her head, and pops a broad-brimmed man's hat over it. she has the sleeves of her dress made with turned-back cuffs, like her husband's, ties her shoes with strings, laces her dress in front, so as to show a bright-coloured under-bodice, and, as like as not, wears a green pinner (an apron with bib, which was pinned on to the dress), and altogether brings herself up to date. [illustration: {a woman of the time of james ii.}] one might see the farmer's wife riding to market with her eggs in a basket covered with a corner of her red cloak, and many a red cloak would she meet on the way to clep with on the times and the fashions. the green apron was a mark of a quaker in america, and the society of friends was not by any means sad in colour until late in their history. most notable was the neckcloth in this unhappy reign, which went by the name of judge jeffreys' hempen cravat. william and mary reigned thirteen years: - . the king born in ; the queen born in ; married in . the men [illustration: {a man of the time of william and mary}] first and foremost, the wig. periwig, peruke, campaign wig with pole-locks or dildos, all the rage, all the thought of the first gentlemen. their heads loaded with curl upon curl, long ringlets hanging over their shoulders and down their backs, some brown, some covered with meal until their coats looked like millers' coats; scented hair, almost hiding the loose-tied cravat, 'most agreeably discoloured with snuff from top to bottom.' [illustration: {a man of the time of william and mary; a type of cuff}] my fine gentleman walking the street with the square-cut coat open to show a fine waistcoat, his stick hanging by a ribbon on to his wrist and rattling on the pavement as it dragged along, his hat carefully perched on his wig, the crown made wide and high to hold the two wings of curls, which formed a negligent central parting. his pockets, low down in his coat, show a lace kerchief half dropping from one of them. one hand is in a small muff, the other holds a fine silver-gilt box filled with vigo snuff. he wears high-heeled shoes, red heeled, perhaps, and the tongue of his shoe sticks up well above the instep. probably he is on his way to the theatre, where he will comb his periwig in public, and puff away the clouds of powder that come from it. the fair lady in a side box, who hides her face behind a mask, is delighted if sir beau will bow to her. [illustration: a man of the time of william and mary ( - ) strings again in use on the shoes. cuffs much broader; wigs more full; skirts wider. coat left open to show the long waistcoat.] we are now among most precise people. one must walk here with just such an air of artificiality as will account one a fellow of high tone. the more enormous is our wig, the more frequently we take a pinch of violet strasburg or best brazil, orangery, bergamotte, or jassamena, the more shall we be followed by persons anxious to learn the fashion. we may even draw a little silver bowl from our pocket, place it on a seat by us, and, in meditative mood, spit therein. we have gone completely into skirted coats and big flapped waistcoats; we have adopted the big cuff buttoned back; we have given up altogether the wide knee-breeches, and wear only breeches not tight to the leg, but just full enough for comfort. the hats have altered considerably now; they are cocked up at all angles, turned off the forehead, turned up one side, turned up all round; some are fringed with gold or silver lace, others are crowned with feathers. we hear of such a number of claret-coloured suits that we must imagine that colour to be all the rage, and, in contrast to other times not long gone by, we must stiffen ourselves in buckram-lined skirts. these powdered absaloms could change themselves into very fine fighting creatures, and look twice as sober again when occasion demanded. they rode about the country in periwigs, certainly, but not quite so bushy and curled; many of them took to the travelling or campaign wig with the dildos or pole-locks. these wigs were full over the ears and at the sides of the forehead, but they were low in the crown, and the two front ends were twisted into single pipes of hair; or the pipes of hair at the side were entirely removed, and one single pipe hung down the back. the custom of thus twisting the hair at the back, and there holding it with a ribbon, gave rise to the later pigtail. the periwigs so altered were known as short bobs, the bob being the fullness of the hair by the cheeks of the wig. [illustration: {a man of the time of william and mary}] the cuffs of the coat-sleeve varied to the idea and taste of the owner of the coat; sometimes the sleeve was widened at the elbow to inches, and the cuffs, turned back to meet the sleeves, were wider still. two, three, or even more buttons held the cuff back. the pockets on the coats were cut vertically and horizontally, and these also might be buttoned up. often the coat was held by only two centre buttons, and the waistcoat flaps were not buttoned at all. the men's and women's muffs were small, and often tied and slung with ribbons. [illustration: {a man of the time of william and mary}] plain round riding-coats were worn, fastened by a clasp or a couple of large buttons. the habit of tying the neckcloth in a bow with full hanging ends was dying out, and a more loosely tied cravat was being worn; this was finished with fine lace ends, and was frequently worn quite long. [illustration: {three men of the time of william and mary}] stockings were pulled over the knee, and were gartered below and rolled above it. the ordinary citizen wore a modified edition of these clothes--plain in cut, full, without half the number of buttons, and without the tremendous periwig, wearing merely his own hair long. for convenience in riding, the skirts of the coats were slit up the back to the waist; this slit could be buttoned up if need be. [illustration: {a man of the time of william and mary; a shoe}] now, let us give the dandy of this time his pipe, and let him go in peace. let us watch him stroll down the street, planting his high heels carefully, to join two companions outside the tobacco shop. here, by the great carved wood figure of a smoking indian with his kilt of tobacco leaves, he meets his fellows. from the hoop hung by the door one chooses a pipe, another asks for a quid to chew and a spittoon, the third calls for a paper of snuff newly rasped. then they pull aside the curtains and go into the room behind the shop, where, seated at a table made of planks upon barrels, they will discuss the merits of smoking, chewing, and snuffing. 'we three are engaged in one cause, i snuffs, i smokes, and i chaws.' the women let me picture for you a lady of this time in the language of those learned in dress, and you will see how much it may benefit. 'we see her coming afar off; against the yew hedge her weeds shine for a moment. we see her figuretto gown well looped and puffed with the monte-la-haut. her échelle is beautiful, and her pinner exquisitely worked. we can see her commode, her top-not, and her fontage, for she wears no rayonné. a silver pin holds her meurtriers, and the fashion suits better than did the crève-coeurs. one hand holds her saxon green muffetee, under one arm is her chapeau-bras. she is beautiful, she needs no plumpers, and she regards us kindly with her watchet eyes.' a lady of this date would read this and enjoy it, just as a lady of to-day would understand modern dress language, which is equally peculiar to the mere man. for example, this one of the queen of spain's hats from her trousseau (curiously enough a trousseau is a little bundle): 'the hat is a paille d'italie trimmed with a profusion of pink roses, accompanied by a pink chiffon ruffle fashioned into masses bouillonnée arranged at intervals and circled with wreaths of shaded roses.' [illustration: {two women of the time of william and mary}] the modern terms so vaguely used are shocking, and the descriptive names given to colours by dress-artists are horrible beyond belief--such as watteau pink and elephant grey, not to speak of sèvres-blue cherries. however, the female mind delights in such jargon and hotch-potch. let me be kind enough to translate our william and mary fashion language. 'weeds' is a term still in use in 'widow's weeds,' meaning the entire dress appearance of a woman. a 'figuretto gown looped and puffed with the monte-la-haut' is a gown of figured material gathered into loops over the petticoat and stiffened out with wires 'monte-la-haut.' the 'échelle' is a stomacher laced with ribbons in rungs like a ladder. her 'pinner' is her apron. the 'commode' is the wire frame over which the curls are arranged, piled up in high masses over the forehead. the 'top-not' is a large bow worn at the top of the commode; and the 'fontage' or 'tower' is a french arrangement of alternate layers of lace and ribbon raised one above another about half a yard high. it was invented in the time of louis xiv., about , by mademoiselle fontage. the 'rayonné' is a cloth hood pinned in a circle. the 'meurtriers,' or murderers, are those twists in the hair which tie or unloose the arrangements of curls; and the 'crève-coeurs' are the row of little forehead curls of the previous reign. a 'muffetee' is a little muff, and a 'chapeau-bras' is a hat never worn, but made to be carried under the arm by men or women; for the men hated to disarrange their wigs. [illustration: {a woman of the time of william and mary}] 'plumpers' were artificial arrangements for filling out the cheeks, and 'watchet' eyes are blue eyes. the ladies have changed a good deal by the middle of this reign: they have looped up the gown till it makes side-panniers and a bag-like droop at the back; the under-gown has a long train, and the bodice is long-waisted. the front of the bodice is laced open, and shows either an arrangement of ribbon and lace or a piece of the material of the under-gown. [illustration: {two hair arrangements and necklines for women}] black pinners in silk with a deep frill are worn as well as the white lace and linen ones. [illustration: {a woman of the time of william and mary}] the ladies wear short black capes of this stuff with a deep frill. sometimes, instead of the fontage, a lady wears a lace shawl over her head and shoulders, or a sort of lace cap bedizened with coloured ribbons. her sleeves are like a man's, except that they come to the elbow only, showing a white under-sleeve of lace gathered into a deep frill of lace just below the elbow. [illustration: a woman of the time of william and mary ( - ) here you see the cap called the 'fontage,' the black silk apron, the looped skirt, and the hair on the high frame called a 'commode.'] [illustration: {a woman of the time of william and mary}] [illustration: country folk.] she is very stiff and tight-laced, and very long in the waist; and at the waist where the gown opens and at the loopings of it the richer wear jewelled brooches. later in the reign there began a fashion for copying men's clothes, and ladies wore wide skirted coats with deep-flapped pockets, the sleeves of the coats down below the elbow and with deep-turned overcuffs. they wore, like the men, very much puffed and ruffled linen and lace at the wrists. also they wore men's waistcoat fashions, carried sticks and little arm-hats--chapeau-bras. to complete the dress the hair was done in a bob-wig style, and the cravat was tied round their necks and pinned. for the winter one of those loose dutch jackets lined and edged with fur, having wide sleeves. the general tendency was to look dutch, stiff, prim, but very prosperous; even the country maid in her best is close upon the heel of fashion with her laced bodice, sleeves with cuffs, apron, and high-heeled shoes. queen anne reigned twelve years: - . born . married, , prince george of denmark. the men and women when i turn to the opening of the eighteenth century, and leave dutch william and his hollands and his pipe and his bulb-gardens behind, it seems to me that there is a great noise, a tumultuous chattering. we seem to burst upon a date of talkers, of coffee-houses, of snuff and scandal. all this was going on before, i say to myself--people were wearing powdered wigs, and were taking snuff, and were talking scandal, but it did not appeal so forcibly. we arrive at sedan-chairs and hoops too big for them; we arrive at red-heeled shoes. though both chairs and red heels belong to the previous reign, still, we arrive at them now--they are very much in the picture. we seem to see a profusion, a confused mass of bobbins and bone lace, mourning hatbands, silk garters, amber canes correctly conducted, country men in red coats, coxcombs, brass and looking-glass snuff-boxes. [illustration: {a man of the time of anne}] gentlemen walk past our mental vision with seals curiously fancied and exquisitely well cut. ladies are sighing at the toss of a wig or the tap on a snuff-box, falling sick for a pair of striped garters or a pair of fringed gloves. gentlemen are sitting baldheaded in elegant dressing-gowns, while their wigs are being taken out of roulettes. the peruquier removes the neat, warm clay tube, gives a last pat to the fine pipes of the hair, and then gently places the wig on the waiting gentlemen. if you can look through the walls of london houses you will next see regiments of gentlemen, their faces pressed into glass cones, while the peruquier tosses powder over their newly-put-on periwigs. the bow at the end of the long pigtail on the ramillies wig is tied--that is over. [illustration: a man of the time of queen anne ( - ) the coat has become still more full at the sides. the hat has a more generous brim. red heels in fashion.] running footmen, looking rather like indians from the outsides of tobacco shops, speed past. they are dressed in close tunics with a fringed edge, which flicks them just above the knee. their legs are tied up in leather guards, their feet are strongly shod, their wigs are in small bobs. on their heads are little round caps, with a feather stuck in them. in one hand they carry a long stick about feet high, in the top knob of which they carry some food or a message. a message to whom? [illustration: a running footman.] the running footman knocks on a certain door, and delivers to the pretty maid a note for her ladyship from a handsome, well-shaped youth who frequents the coffee-houses about charing cross. there is no answer to the note: her ladyship is too disturbed with household affairs. her welsh maid has left her under suspicious circumstances, and has carried off some articles. the lady is even now writing to mr. bickerstaff of the _tatler_ to implore his aid. this is the list of the things she has missed--at least, as much of the list as my mind remembers as it travels back over the years: [illustration: {a woman of the time of anne}] a thick wadded calico wrapper. a musk-coloured velvet mantle lined with squirrels' skins. eight night shifts, four pairs of stockings curiously darned. six pairs of laced shoes, new and old, with the heels of half inches higher than their fellows. a quilted petticoat of the largest size, and one of canvas, with whalebone hoops. three pairs of stays boulstered below the left shoulder. two pairs of hips of the newest fashion. six roundabout aprons, with pockets, and four strip'd muslin night rails very little frayed. a silver cheese toaster with three tongues. a silver posnet to butter eggs. a bible bound in shagreen, with guilt leaves and clasps, never opened but once. two leather forehead cloathes, three pair of oiled dogskin gloves. two brand new plumpers, three pair of fashionable eyebrows. adam and eve in bugle work, without fig-leaves, upon canvas, curiously wrought with her ladyship's own hand. bracelets of braided hair, pomander, and seed pearl. a large old purple velvet purse, embroidered, and shutting with a spring, containing two pictures in miniature, the features visible. a silver gilt box for cashu and carraway comfits to be taken at long sermons. a new gold repeating watch made by a frenchman. together with a collection of receipts to make pastes for the hands, pomatums, lip salves, white pots, and water of talk. of these things one strikes the eye most curiously--the canvas petticoat with whalebone hoops. it dates the last, making me know that the good woman lost her things in or about the year . we are just at the beginning of the era of the tremendous hoop skirt. this gentleman from the country will tell me all about it. i stop him and remark his clothes; by them i guess he has ridden from the country. he is wearing a wide-skirted coat of red with deep flap pockets; his coat has buttons from neck to hem, but only two or three--at the waist--are buttoned. one hand, with the deep cuff pushed back from the wrist to show his neat frilled shirt, is thrust into his unbuttoned breeches pocket, the two pockets being across the top of his breeches. round his neck is a black steenkirk cravat (a black silk tie knotted and twisted or allowed to hang over loose). his hat is of black, and the wide brim is turned back from his forehead. his wig is a short black periwig in bobs--that is, it is gathered into bunches just on the shoulders, and is twisted in a little bob at the back of the neck. i have forgotten whether he wore red or blue stockings rolled above the knee, but either is likely. his shoes are strong, high-heeled, and have a big tongue showing above the buckle. [illustration: {a man of the time of anne}] [illustration: a woman of the time of queen anne ( - ) notice that the fontage has become much lower, and the hoop of the skirt has become enormous. the hair is more naturally dressed.] he tells me that in norfolk, where he has come from, the hoop has not come into fashion; that ladies there dress much as they did before queen anne came to the throne. the fontage is lower, perhaps, the waist may be longer, but skirts are full and have long trains, and are gathered in loops to show the petticoat of silk with its deep double row of flounces. aprons are worn long, and have good pockets. cuffs are deep, but are lowered to below the elbow. the bodice of the gown is cut high in the back and low in front, and is decked with a deep frill of lace or linen, which allows less bare neck to show than formerly. a very observant gentleman! 'but you have seen the new hoop?' i ask him. yes, he has seen it. as he rode into town he noticed that the old fashions gave way to new, that every mile brought the fontage lower and the hair more hidden, until short curls and a little cap of linen or lace entirely replaced the old high head-dress and the profusion of curls on the shoulders. the hoop, he noticed, became larger and larger as he neared the town, and the train grew shorter, and the patterns on the under-skirt grew larger with the hoop. [illustration: {a woman of the time of anne}] i leave my gentleman from the country and i stroll about the streets to regard the fashions. here, i see, is a gentleman in one of the new ramillies wigs--a wig of white hair drawn back from the forehead and puffed out full over the ears. at the back the wig is gathered into a long queue, the plaited or twisted tail of a wig, and is ornamented at the top and bottom of the queue with a black bow. [illustration: {ramillies wig; black steenkirk; a hat for men}] i notice that this gentleman is dressed in more easy fashion than some. his coat is not buttoned, the flaps of his waistcoat are not over big, his breeches are easy, his tie is loose. i know where this gentleman has stepped from; he has come straight out of a sampler of mine, by means of which piece of needlework i can get his story without book. i know that he has a tremendous periwig at home covered with scented powder; i know that he has an elegant suit with fullness of the skirts, at his sides gathered up to a button of silver gilt; there is plenty of lace on this coat, and deep bands of it on the cuffs. he has also, i am certain, a cane with an amber head very curiously clouded, and this cane he hangs on to his fifth button by a blue silk ribbon. this cane is never used except to lift it up at a coachman, hold it over the head of a drawer, or point out the circumstances of a story. also, he has a single eyeglass, or perspective, which he will advance to his eye to gaze at a toast or an orange wench. there is another figure on the sampler--a lady in one of those wide hoops; she has a fan in her hand. i know her as well as the gentleman, and know that she can use her fan as becomes a prude or a coquette. i know she takes her chocolate in bed at nine in the morning, at eleven she drinks a dish of bohea, tries a new head at her twelve o'clock toilette, and at two cheapens fans at the change. [illustration: {a woman of the time of anne}] [illustration: {a woman of the time of anne}] i have seen her at her mantua-makers; i have watched her embroider a corner of her flower handkerchief, and give it up to sit before her glass to determine a patch. she is a good coachwoman, and puts her dainty laced shoe against the opposite seat to balance herself against the many jolts; meanwhile she takes her mask off for a look at the passing world. if only i could ride in the coach with her! if only i could i should see the fruit wenches in sprigged petticoats and flat, broad-brimmed hats; the ballad-sellers in tattered long-skirted coats; the country women in black hoods and cloaks, and the men in frieze coats. the ladies would pass by in pearl necklaces, flowered stomachers, artificial nosegays, and shaded furbelows: one is noted by her muff, one by her tippet, one by her fan. here a gentleman bows to our coach, and my lady's heart beats to see his open waistcoat, his red heels, his suit of flowered satin. i should not fail to notice the monstrous petticoats worn by ladies in chairs or in coaches, these hoops stuffed out with cordage and stiffened with whalebone, and, according to mr. bickerstaff, making the women look like extinguishers--'with a little knob at the upper end, and widening downward till it ends in a basis of a most enormous circumference.' to finish. i quite agree with mr. bickerstaff, when he mentions the great shoe-shop at the st. james's end of pall mall, that the shoes there displayed, notably the slippers with green lace and blue heels, do create irregular thoughts in the youth of this nation. george the first reigned thirteen years: - . born . married, , sophia of brunswick. the men and women [illustration: { : a woman of the time of george i.; a shoe}] we cannot do better than open thackeray, and put a finger on this passage: 'there is the lion's head, down whose jaws the spectator's own letters were passed; and over a great banker's in fleet street the effigy of the wallet, which the founder of the firm bore when he came into london a country boy. people this street, so ornamented with crowds of swinging chairmen, with servants bawling to clear the way, with mr. dean in his cassock, his lacquey marching before him; or mrs. dinah in her sack, tripping to chapel, her footboy carrying her ladyship's great prayer-book; with itinerant tradesmen, singing their hundred cries (i remember forty years ago, as a boy in london city, a score of cheery, familiar cries that are silent now). 'fancy the beaux thronging to the chocolate-houses, tapping their snuff-boxes as they issue thence, their periwig appearing over the red curtains. fancy saccharissa beckoning and smiling from the upper windows, and a crowd of soldiers bawling and bustling at the door--gentlemen of the life guards, clad in scarlet with blue facings, and laced with gold at the seams; gentlemen of the horse grenadiers, in their caps of sky-blue cloth, with the garter embroidered on the front in gold and silver; men of the halberdiers, in their long red coats, as bluff harry left them, with their ruffs and velvet flat-caps. perhaps the king's majesty himself is going to st. james's as we pass.' _the four georges._ [illustration: {a man of the time of george i.}] [illustration: {a woman of the time of george i.}] we find ourselves, very willingly, discussing the shoes of the king of france with a crowd of powdered beaux; those shoes the dandyism of which has never been surpassed, the heels, if you please, painted by vandermeulen with scenes from rhenish victories! or we go to the toy-shops in fleet street, where we may make assignations or buy us a mask, where loaded dice are slyly handed over the counter. everywhere--the beau. he rides the world like a cock-horse, or like og the giant rode the ark of noah, steering it with his feet, getting his washing for nothing, and his meals passed up to him out by the chimney. here is the old soldier begging in his tattered coat of red; here is a suspicious-looking character with a black patch over his eye; here the whalebone hoop of a petticoat takes up the way, and above the monstrous hoop is the tight bodice, and out of that comes the shoulders supporting the radiant molly--patches, powder, paint, and smiles. here a woman passes in a nithsdale hood, covering her from head to foot--this great cloak with a piquant history of prison-breaking; here, with a clatter of high red heels, the beau, the everlasting beau, in gold lace, wide cuffs, full skirts, swinging cane. a scene of flashing colours. the coats embroidered with flowers and butterflies, the cuffs a mass of fine sewing, the three-cornered hats cocked at a jaunty angle, the stockings rolled above the knee. wigs in three divisions of loops at the back pass by, wigs in long queues, wigs in back and side bobs. lacquer-hilted swords, paste buckles, gold and silver snuff-boxes flashing in the sun, which struggles through the mass of swinging signs. [illustration: a man of the time of george i. ( - ) the buckles on the shoes are now much larger; the stockings are loosely rolled above the knee. the great periwig is going out, and the looped and curled wig, very white with powder, is in fashion.] [illustration: {a hat; coat tails; a wig}] there is a curious sameness about the clean-shaven faces surmounted by white wigs; there is--if we believe the pictures--a tendency to fat due to the tight waist of the breeches or the buckling of the belts. the ladies wear little lace and linen caps, their hair escaping in a ringlet or so at the side, and flowing down behind, or gathered close up to a small knob on the head. the gentlemen's coats fall in full folds on either side; the back, at present, has not begun to stick out so heavily with buckram. aprons for ladies are still worn. silks and satins, brocades and fine cloths, white wigs powdering velvet shoulders, crowds of cut-throats, elegant gentlemen, patched aspasias, tavern swindlers, foreign adventurers, thieves, a highwayman, a footpad, a poor poet--and narrow streets and mud. [illustration: {a man of the time of george i.}] everywhere we see the skirted coat, the big flapped waistcoat; even beggar boys, little pot-high urchins, are wearing some old laced waistcoat tied with string about their middles--a pair of heel-trodden, buckleless shoes on their feet, more likely bare-footed. here is a man snatched from the tripe-shop in hanging sword alley by the king's men--a pickpocket, a highwayman, a cut-throat in hiding. he will repent his jokes on jack ketch's kitchen when he feels the lash of the whip on his naked shoulders as he screams behind the cart-tail; ladies in flowered hoops will stop to look at him, beaux will lift their quizzing glasses, a young girl will whisper behind a fan, painted with the loves of jove, to a gorgeous young fop in a light-buttoned coat of sky-blue. [illustration: {a man of the time of george i.}] there is a sadder sight to come, a cart on the way to tyburn, a poor fellow standing by his coffin with a nosegay in his breast; he is full of dutch courage, for, as becomes a notorious highwayman, he must show game before the crowd, so he is full of stum and yorkshire stingo. maybe we stop to see a pirate hanging in chains by the river, and we are jostled by horse officers and watermen, revenue men and jerkers, and, as usual, the curious beau, his glass to his eye. never was such a time for curiosity: a man is preaching mystic religion; there is a new flavour to the rainbow tavern furmity; there is a fellow who can sew with his toes; a man is in the pillory for publishing jacobite ballads--and always there is the beau looking on. [illustration: {a woman of the time of george i.}] country ladies, still in small hoops, even in full dresses innocent of whalebone, are bewildered by the noise; country gentlemen, in plain-coloured coats and stout shoes, have come to london on south sea bubble business. they will go to the fair to see the harlequin and scaramouch dance, they will buy a new perfume at the civet cat, and they will go home--the lady's head full of the new hoop fashion, and she will cut away the sleeve of her old dress and put in fresh lace; the gentleman full of curses on tavern bills and the outrageous price of south sea shares. [illustration: {a man of the time of george i.}] 'and what,' says country dame to country dame lately from town--'what is the mode in gentlemen's hair?' her own goodman has an old periwig, very full, and a small bob for ordinary wear. [illustration: {a man of the time of george i.}] 'the very full periwig is going out,' our lady assures her; 'a tied wig is quite the mode, a wig in three queues tied in round bobs, or in hair loops, and the long single queue wig is coming in rapidly, and will soon be all the wear.' so, with talk of flowered tabbies and fine lutestring, are the fashions passed on. [illustration: a woman of the time of george i. ( - ) you will see that the fontage has given way to a small lace cap. the hair is drawn off the forehead. the hoop of the skirt is still large.] [illustration: {a woman of the time of george i.}] just as sir roger de coverley nearly called a young lady in riding-dress 'sir,' because of the upper half of her body, so the ladies of this day might well be taken for 'sirs,' with their double-breasted riding-coats like the men, and their hair in a queue surmounted by a cocked hat. colours and combinations of colours are very striking: petticoats of black satin covered with large bunches of worked flowers, morning gown of yellow flowered satin faced with cherry-coloured bands, waistcoats of one colour with a fringe of another, bird's-eye hoods, bodices covered with gold lace and embroidered flowers--all these gave a gay, artificial appearance to the age; but we are to become still more quaintly devised, still more powdered and patched, in the next reign. george the second reigned thirty-three years: - . born . married, , caroline of anspach. the men just a few names of wigs, and you will see how the periwig has gone into the background, how the bob-wig has superseded the campaign wig; you will find a veritable confusion of barbers' enthusiasms, half-forgotten designs, names dependent on a twist, a lock, a careful disarrangement--pigeon's-wing wigs with wings of hair at the sides, comets with long, full tails, cauliflowers with a profusion of curls, royal bind-wigs, staircase wigs, ladders, brushes, count saxe wigs, cut bobs, long bobs, negligents, chain-buckles, drop-wigs, bags. go and look at hogarth; there's a world of dress for you by the grim humorist who painted sarah malcolm, the murderess, in her cell; who painted 'taste in high life.' wigs! inexhaustible subject--wigs passing from father to son until they arrived at the second-hand dealers in monmouth street, and there, after a rough overhauling, began a new life. there was a wig lottery at sixpence a ticket in rosemary lane, and with even ordinary wigs--grizzle majors at twenty-five shillings, great tyes at a guinea, and brown bagwigs at fifteen shillings--quite a considerable saving might be made by the lucky lottery winner. [illustration: {back view of a man's coat; seven types of hat for men}] on wigs, hats cocked to suit the passing fashion, broad-brimmed, narrow-brimmed, round, three-cornered, high-brimmed, low-brimmed, turned high off the forehead, turned low in front and high at the back--an endless crowd. such a day for clothes, for patches, and politics, tory side and whig to your face, tory or whig cock to your hat; pockets high, pockets low, stiff cuffs, crushable cuffs, a regular jumble of go-as-you-please. let me try to sort the jumble. [illustration: { : two views of a coat for men}] [illustration: {a man of the time of george ii.; a sleeve; a waistcoat}] foremost, the coat. the coat is growing more full, more spread; it becomes, on the beau, a great spreading, flaunting, skirted affair just buttoned by a button or two at the waist. it is laced or embroidered all over; it is flowered or plain. the cuffs are huge; they will, of course, suit the fancy of the owner, or the tailor. about they will get small--some will get small; then the fashions begin to run riot; by the cut of coat you may not know the date of it, then, when you pass it in the street. from there begins the same jumble as to-day, a hopeless thing to unravel; in the next reign, certainly, you may tell yourself here is one of the new macaronis, but that will be all you will mark out of the crowd of fashions--one more remarkable, newer than the rest, but perhaps you have been in the country for a week, and a new mode has come in and is dying out. [illustration: a man of the time of george ii. ( - ) notice the heavy cuffs, and the very full skirts of the coat. he carries a _chapeau bras_ under his arm--a hat for carrying only, since he will not ruffle his wig. he wears a black satin tie to his wig, the ends of which tie come round his neck, are made into a bow, and brooched with a solitaire.] [illustration: {a man of the time of george ii.}] from coat let us look at waistcoat. full flaps and long almost to the knees; but again, about , they will be shorter. they are fringed, flowered, laced, open to show the lace cravat fall so daintily, to show the black velvet bow-tie that comes over from the black velvet, or silk, or satin tie of the queue. ruffles of lace, of all qualities, at the wrists, the beau's hand emerging with his snuff-box from a filmy froth of white lace. [illustration: {a man of the time of george ii.; a wig; breeches and stockings}] in this era of costume--from george i. to george iv.--the great thing to remember is that the coat changes more than anything else; from the stiff william and mary coat with its deep, stiff cuffs, you see the change towards the george i. coat, a looser cut of the same design, still simple in embroideries; then the coat skirts are gathered to a button at each side of the coat just behind the pockets. then, in george ii.'s reign, the skirt hangs in parallel folds free from the button, and shapes to the back more closely, the opening of the coat, from the neck to the waist, being so cut as to hang over the buttons and show the cravat and the waistcoat. then, later in the same reign, we see the coat with the skirts free of buckram and very full all round, and the cuffs also free of stiffening and folding with the crease of the elbow. then, about , we get the coat left more open, and, for the beau, cut much shorter--this often worn over a double-breasted waistcoat. then, arriving at george iii., we get a long series of coat changes, with a collar on it, turned over and standing high in the neck, with the skirts buttoned back, then cut away; then the front of the coat cut away like the modern dress-coat. [illustration: {four men of the time of george ii.}] in following out these really complicated changes, i have done my best to make my meaning clear by placing dates against those drawings where dates are valuable, hoping by this means to show the rise and fall of certain fashions more clearly than any description would do. it will be noticed that, for ceremony, the periwig gave place to the tie-wig, or, in some few cases, to natural hair curled and powdered. the older men kept to the periwig no doubt from fondness of the old and, as they thought, more grave fashion; but, as i showed at the beginning of the chapter, the beau and the young man, even the quite middle-class man, wore, or had the choice of wearing, endless varieties of false attires of hair. the sporting man had his own idea of dress, even as to-day he has a piquant idea in clothes, and who shall say he has not the right? a black wig, a jockey cap with a bow at the back of it, a very resplendent morning gown richly laced, a morning cap, and very comfortable embroidered slippers, such mixtures of clothes in his wardrobe--his coat, no doubt, a little over-full, but of good cloth, his fine clothes rather over-embroidered, his tie-wig often pushed too far back on his forehead, and so showing his cropped hair underneath. muffs must be remembered, as every dandy carried a muff in winter, some big, others grotesquely small. bath must be remembered, and the great beau nash in the famous pump-room--as thackeray says, so say i: 'i should like to have seen the folly,' he says, meaning nash. 'it was a splendid embroidered, beruffled, snuff-boxed, red-heeled, impertinent folly, and knew how to make itself respected. i should like to have seen that noble old madcap peterborough in his boots (he actually had the audacity to walk about bath in boots!), with his blue ribbon and stars, and a cabbage under each arm, and a chicken in his hand, which he had been cheapening for his dinner.' it was the fashion to wear new clothes on the queen's birthday, march , and then the streets noted the loyal people who indulged their extravagance or pushed a new fashion on that day. do not forget that no hard-and-fast rules can be laid down; a man's a man for all his tailor tells him he is a walking fashion plate. those who liked short cuffs wore them, those who did not care for solitaires did without; the height of a heel, the breadth of a buckle, the sweep of a skirt, all lay at the taste of the owner--merely would i have you remember the essentials. [illustration: {a man of the time of george ii.; four styles of hair for men}] there was a deal of dressing up--the king, bless you, in a turkish array at a masque--the day of the corydon and sylvia: mock shepherd, dainty shepherdess was here; my lord in silk loose coat with paste buttons, fringed waistcoat, little three-cornered hat under his arm, and a pastoral staff between his fingers, a crook covered with cherry and blue ribbons; and my lady in such a hoop of sprigged silk or some such stuff, the tiniest of straw hat on her head, high heels tapping the ground, all a-shepherding--what? cupids, i suppose, little dresden loves, little comfit-box jokes, little spiteful remarks about the germans. [illustration: { : two men of the time of george ii.; : three men of the time of george ii.}] come, let me doff my kevenhuller hat with the gold fringe, bring my red heels together with a smart tap, bow, with my hand on the third button of my coat from which my stick dangles, and let me introduce the ladies. the women i will introduce the fair, painted, powdered, patched, perfumed sex (though this would do for man or woman of the great world then) by some lines from the _bath guide_: 'bring, o bring thy essence-pot, amber, musk, and bergamot; eau de chipre, eau de luce, sanspareil, and citron juice. * * * * * in a band-box is contained painted lawns, and chequered shades, crape that's worn by love-lorn maids, watered tabbies, flowered brocades; straw-built hats, and bonnets green, catgut, gauzes, tippets, ruffs; fans and hoods, and feathered muffs, stomachers, and paris nets, earrings, necklaces, aigrets, fringes, blouses, and mignionets; fine vermillion for the cheek, velvet patches à la grecque. come, but don't forget the gloves, which, with all the smiling loves, venus caught young cupid picking from the tender breast of chicken.' [illustration: a woman of the time of george ii. ( - ) she is wearing a large pinner over her dress. notice the large panniers, the sleeves without cuffs, the tied cap, and the shortness of the skirts.] [illustration: {three women of the time of george ii.}] now i think it will be best to describe a lady of quality. in the first years of the reign she still wears the large hoop skirt, a circular whalebone arrangement started at the waist, and, at intervals, the hoops were placed so that the petticoat stood out all round like a bell; over this the skirt hung stiff and solemn. the bodice was tight-laced, cut square in front where the neckerchief of linen or lace made the edge soft. the sleeves still retained the cuff covering the elbow, and the under-sleeve of linen with lace frills came half-way down the forearm, leaving bare arm and wrist to show. [illustration: {four women of the time of george ii.}] over the skirt she would wear, as her taste held her, a long, plain apron, or a long, tucked apron, or an apron to her knees. the bodice generally formed the top of a gown, which gown was very full-skirted, and was divided so as to hang back behind the dress, showing, often, very little in front. this will be seen clearly in the illustrations. the hair is very tightly gathered up behind, twisted into a small knob on the top of the head, and either drawn straight back from the forehead or parted in the middle, allowing a small fringe to hang on the temples. nearly every woman wore a small cap or a small round straw hat with a ribbon round it. the lady's shoes would be high-heeled and pointed-toed, with a little buckle and strap. about the middle of the reign the sacque became the general town fashion, the sacque being so named on account of the back, which fell from the shoulders into wide, loose folds over the hooped petticoat. the sacque was gathered at the back in close pleats, which fell open over the skirt part of this dress. the front of the sacque was sometimes open, sometimes made tight in the bodice. [illustration: {a woman of the time of george ii.; four types of shoe}] now the lady would puff her hair at the sides and powder it; if she had no hair she wore false, and a little later a full wig. she would now often discard her neat cap and wear a veil behind her back, over her hair, and falling over her shoulders. in , so they say, and so i believe to be true, the king, walking in the mall, saw the duchess of bedford riding in a blue riding-habit with white silk facings--this would be a man's skirted coat, double-breasted, a cravat, a three-corned hat, and a full blue skirt. he admired her dress so much and thought it so neat that he straightway ordered that the officers of the navy, who, until now, had worn scarlet, should take this coat for the model of their new uniform. so did the navy go into blue and white. the poorer classes were not, of course, dressed in hooped skirts, but the bodice and gown over the petticoat, the apron, and the turned back cuff to the short sleeve were worn by all. the orange wench laced her gown neatly, and wore a white cloth tied over her head; about her shoulders she wore a kerchief of white, and often a plain frill of linen at her elbows. there were blue canvas, striped dimity, flannel, and ticken for the humble; for the rich, lustrings, satins, padesois, velvets, damasks, fans and leghorn hats, bands of valenciennes and point de dunquerque--these might be bought of mrs. holt, whose card hogarth engraved, at the two olive posts in the broad part of the strand. [illustration: {two women of the time of george ii.}] seventeen hundred and fifty-five saw the one-horse chairs introduced from france, called cabriolets, the first of our own extraordinary wild-looking conveyances contrived for the minimum of comfort and the maximum of danger. this invention captivated the hearts of both men and women. the men painted cabriolets on their waistcoats, they embroidered them on their stockings, they cut them out in black silk and patched their cheeks with them, horse and all; the women began to take up, a little later, the cabriolet caps with round sides like linen wheels, and later still, at the very end of the reign, there began a craze for such head-dresses--post-chaises, chairs and chairmen, even waggons, and this craze grew and grew, and hair grew--in wigs--to meet the cry for hair and straw men-of-war, for loads of hay, for birds of paradise, for goodness knows what forms of utter absurdity, all of which i put down to the introduction of the cab. i think that i can best describe the lady of this day as a swollen, skirted figure with a pinched waist, little head of hair, or tiny cap, developing into a loose sacque-backed figure still whaleboned out, with hair puffed at the sides and powdered, getting ready to develop again into a queer figure under a tower of hair, but that waits for the next reign. one cannot do better than go to hogarth's prints and pictures--wonderful records of this time--one picture especially, 'taste in high life,' being a fine record of the clothes of ; here you will see the panier and the sacque, the monstrous muff, the huge hoop, the long-tailed wig, the black boy and the monkey. in the 'noon' of the 'four parts of the day' there are clothes again satirized. [illustration: {a woman of the time of george ii.; a shawl}] i am trusting that the drawings will supply what my words have failed to picture, and i again--for the twenty-first time--repeat that, given the cut and the idea of the time, the student has always to realize that there can be no hard-and-fast rule about the fashions; with the shape he can take liberties up to the points shown, with colour he can do anything--patterns of the materials are obtainable, and hogarth will give anything required in detail. george the third reigned sixty years: - . born . married, , charlotte sophia of mecklenburg-strelitz. the men and women throughout this long reign the changes of costume are so frequent, so varied, and so jumbled together, that any precise account of them would be impossible. i have endeavoured to give a leading example of most kind of styles in the budget of drawings which goes with this chapter. details concerning this reign are so numerous: fashion books, fashion articles in the _london magazine_, the _st. james's chronicle_, works innumerable on hair-dressing, tailors' patterns--these are easily within the reach of those who hunt the second-hand shops, or are within reasonable distance of a library. [illustration: a man of the time of george iii. ( - ) the full-skirted coat, though still worn, has given way, in general, to the tail-coat. the waistcoat is much shorter. black silk knee-breeches and stockings are very general.] following my drawings, you will see in the first the ordinary wig, skirted coat, knee-breeches, chapeau-bras, cravat or waistcoat, of the man about town. i do not mean of the exquisite about town, but, if you will take it kindly, just such clothes as you or i might have worn. [illustration: {eleven types of head-dress for women; three types of shoe}] in the second drawing we see a fashionable man, who might have strutted past the first fellow in the park. his hair is dressed in a twisted roll; he wears a tight-brimmed little hat, a frogged coat, a fringed waistcoat, striped breeches, and buckled shoes. in the third we see the dress of a macaroni. on his absurd wig he wears a little nevernoise hat; his cravat is tied in a bow; his breeches are loose, and beribboned at the knee. many of these macaronis wore coloured strings at the knee of their breeches, but the fashion died away when jack rann, 'sixteen string jack,' as he was called after this fashion, had been hung in this make of breeches. in number four we see the development of the tail-coat and the high-buttoned waistcoat. the tail-coat is, of course, son to the frock-coat, the skirts of which, being inconvenient for riding, had first been buttoned back and then cut back to give more play. [illustration: a woman of the time of george iii. ( - ) in the earlier half of the reign. notice her sack dress over a satin dress, and the white, elaborately made skirt. also the big cap and the curls of white wig.] in the fifth drawing we see the double-breasted cut-away coat. number six is but a further tail-coat design. number seven shows how different were the styles at one time. indeed, except for the macaroni and other extreme fashions, the entire budget of men as shown might have formed a crowd in the park on one day about twenty years before the end of the reign. there would not be much powdered hair after , but a few examples would remain. a distinct change is shown in the eighth drawing of the long-tailed, full coat, the broad hat, the hair powdered, but not tied. number nine is another example of the same style. the tenth drawing shows the kind of hat we associate with napoleon, and, in fact, very napoleonic garments. in eleven we have a distinct change in the appearance of english dress. the gentleman is a zebra, and is so-called from his striped clothes. he is, of course, in the extreme of fashion, which did not last for long; but it shows a tendency towards later georgian appearance--the top-hat, the shorter hair, the larger neckcloth, the pantaloons--forerunners of brummell's invention--the open sleeve. [illustration: {fourteen styles of hair and hats for men}] [illustration: a man of the time of george iii. ( - ) the cuffs have gone, and now the sleeve is left unbuttoned at the wrist. the coat is long and full-skirted, but not stiffened. the cravat is loosely tied, and the frilled ends stick out. these frills were, in the end, made on the shirt, and were called chitterlings.] number twelve shows us an ordinary gentleman in a coat and waistcoat, with square flaps, called dog's ears. as the drawings continue you can see that the dress became more and more simple, more like modern evening dress as to the coats, more like modern stiff fashion about the neck. the drawings of the women's dresses should also speak for themselves. you may watch the growth of the wig and the decline of the hoop--i trust with ease. you may see those towers of hair of which there are so many stories. those masses of meal and stuffing, powder and pomatum, the dressing of which took many hours. those piles of decorated, perfumed, reeking mess, by which a lady could show her fancy for the navy by balancing a straw ship on her head, for sport by showing a coach, for gardening by a regular bed of flowers. heads which were only dressed, perhaps, once in three weeks, and were then rescented because it was necessary. monstrous germ-gatherers of horse-hair, hemp-wool, and powder, laid on in a paste, the cleaning of which is too awful to give in full detail. 'three weeks,' says my lady's hairdresser, 'is as long as a head can go well in the summer without being opened.' [illustration: { : a woman of the time of george iii.; two types of hat; : a woman of the time of george iii.; : a woman of the time of george iii.}] [illustration: a woman of the time of george iii. ( - ) this shows the last of the pannier dresses, which gave way in or to empire dresses. a change came over all dress after the revolution.] then we go on to the absurd idea which came over womankind that it was most becoming to look like a pouter pigeon. she took to a buffon, a gauze or fine linen kerchief, which stuck out pigeon-like in front, giving an exaggerated bosom to those who wore it. with this fashion of came the broad-brimmed hat. travel a little further and you have the mob cap. all of a sudden out go hoops, full skirts, high hair, powder, buffons, broad-brimmed hats, patches, high-heeled shoes, and in come willowy figures and thin, nearly transparent dresses, turbans, low shoes, straight fringes. i am going to give a chapter from a fashion book, to show you how impossible it is to deal with the vagaries of fashion in the next reign, and if i chose to occupy the space, i could give a similar chapter to make the confusion of this reign more confounded. drawings to illustrate the costume of the reign of george the third the first forty-eight drawings by the author, and the remaining twelve by the dightons, father and son [illustration: {four men}] [illustration: {five men}] [illustration: {four men}] [illustration: {four men}] [illustration: {four men and a boy}] [illustration: {a man and three women}] [illustration: {four women}] [illustration: {four women}] [illustration: {four women}] [illustration: {four women}] [illustration: {four women}] [illustration: {four women}] [illustration: the king.] [illustration: the navy.] [illustration: the army.] [illustration: pensioners.] [illustration: the church.] [illustration: the law.] [illustration: the stage.] [illustration: the universities.] [illustration: the country.] [illustration: the duke of norfolk.] [illustration: the city.] [illustration: the duke of queensberry.] george the fourth reigned ten years: - . born . married, , caroline of brunswick. out of the many fashion books of this time i have chosen, from a little brown book in front of me, a description of the fashions for ladies during one part of . it will serve to show how mere man, blundering on the many complexities of the feminine passion for dress--i was going to say clothes--may find himself left amid a froth of frills, high and dry, except for a whiff of spray, standing in his unromantic garments on the shore of the great world of gauze and gussets, while the most noodle-headed girl sails gracefully away upon the high seas to pirate some new device of the devil or paris. our wives--bless them!--occasionally treat us to a few bewildering terms, hoping by their gossamer knowledge to present to our gaze a mental picture of a new, adorable, ardently desired--hat. perhaps those nine proverbial tailors who go to make the one proverbial man, least of his sex, might, by a strenuous effort, confine the history of clothes during this reign into a compact literature of forty volumes. it would be indecent, as undecorous as the advertisements in ladies' papers, to attempt to fathom the language of the man who endeavoured to read the monumental effigy to the vanity of human desire for adornment. but is it adornment? nowadays to be dressed well is not always the same thing as to be well dressed. often it is far from it. the question of modern clothes is one of great perplexity. it seems that what is beauty one year may be the abomination of desolation the next, because the trick of that beauty has become common property. you puff your hair at the sides, you are in the true sanctum of the mode; you puff your hair at the sides, you are for ever utterly cast out as one having no understanding. i shall not attempt to explain it: it passes beyond the realms of explanation into the pure air of truth. the truth is simple. aristocracy being no longer real, but only a cult, one is afraid of one's servants. your servant puffs her hair at the sides, and, hang it! she becomes exactly like an aristocrat. our servant having dropped her _g's_ for many years as well as her _h's_, it behoved us to pronounce our _g's_ and our _h's_. our servants having learned our english, it became necessary for us to drop our _g's_; we seem at present unwilling in the matter of the _h_, but that will come. to cut the cackle and come to the clothes-horse, let me say that the bunglement of clothes which passes all comprehension in king george iv.'s reign is best explained by my cuttings from the book of one who apparently knew. let the older writer have his, or her, fling in his, or her, words. 'curosy remarks on the last new fashions. 'the city of london is now, indeed, most splendid in its buildings and extent; london is carried into the country; but never was it more deserted. 'a very, very few years ago, and during the summer, the dresses of the wives and daughters of our opulent tradesmen would furnish subjects for the investigators of fashion. 'now, if those who chance to remain in london take a day's excursion of about eight or ten miles distance from the metropolis, they hear the innkeepers deprecating the steamboats, by which they declare they are almost ruined: on sundays, which would sometimes bring them the clear profits of ten or twenty pounds, they now scarce produce ten shillings. 'no; those of the middle class belonging to _cockney island_ must leave town, though the days are short, and even getting cold and comfortless; the steamboats carrying them off by shoals to margate and its vicinity. 'the pursuit after elegant and superior modes of dress must carry us farther; it is now from the rural retirement of the country seats belonging to the noble and wealthy that we must collect them. 'young ladies wear their hair well arranged, but not quite with the simplicity that prevailed last month; during the warmth of the summer months, the braids across the forehead were certainly the best; but now, when neither in fear of heat or damp, the curls again appear in numerous clusters round the face; and some young ladies, who seem to place their chief pride in a fine head of hair, have such a multitude of small ringlets that give to what is a natural charm all the _poodle-like_ appearance of a wig. 'the bows of hair are elevated on the summit of the head, and confined by a comb of tortoise-shell. 'caps of the cornette kind are much in fashion, made of blond, and ornamented with flowers, or puffs of coloured gauze; most of the cornettes are small, and tie under the chin, with a bow on one side, of white satin ribbon; those which have ribbons or gauze lappets floating loose have them much shorter than formerly. 'a few dress hats have been seen at dinner-parties and musical amateur meetings in the country, of transparent white crape, ornamented with a small elegant bouquet of marabones. 'when these dress hats are of coloured crape, they are generally ornamented with flowers of the same tint as the hat, in preference to feathers. 'printed muslins and chintzes are still very much worn in the morning walks, with handsome sashes, having three ends depending down each side, not much beyond the hips. with one of these dresses we saw a young lady wear a rich black satin pelerine, handsomely trimmed with a very beautiful black blond; it had a very neat effect, as the dress was light. 'white muslin dresses, though they are always worn partially in the country till the winter actually commences, are now seldom seen except on the young: the embroidery on these dresses is exquisite. dresses of indian red, either in taffety or chintz, have already made their appearance, and are expected to be much in favour the ensuing winter; the chintzes have much black in their patterns; but this light material will, in course, be soon laid aside for silks, and these, like the taffeties which have partially appeared, will no doubt be plain: with these dresses was worn a canezon spencer, with long sleeves of white muslin, trimmed with narrow lace. 'gros de naples dresses are very general, especially for receiving dinner-parties, and for friendly evening society. 'at private dances, the only kind of ball that has at present taken place, are worn dresses of the white-figured gauze over white satin or gros de naples; at the theatricals sometimes performed by noble amateurs, the younger part of the audience, who do not take a part, are generally attired in very clear muslin, over white satin, with drapery scarves of lace, barêge, or thick embroidered tulle. 'cachemire shawls, with a white ground, and a pattern of coloured flowers or green foliage, are now much worn in outdoor costumes, especially for the morning walk; the mornings being rather chilly, these warm envelopes are almost indispensable. we are sorry, however, to find our modern belles so tardy in adopting those coverings, which ought now to succeed to the light appendages of summer costume. 'the muslin canezon spencer, the silk fichu, and even the lighter barêge, are frequently the sole additions to a high dress, or even to one but partially so. 'we have lately seen finished to the order of a lady of rank in the county of suffolk, a very beautiful pelisse of jonquil-coloured gros de naples. it fastens close down from the throat to the feet, in front, with large covered buttons; at a suitable distance on each side of this fastening are three bias folds, rather narrow, brought close together under the belt, and enlarging as they descend to the border of the skirt. a large pelerine cape is made to take on and off; and the bust from the back of each shoulder is ornamented with the same bias folds, forming a stomacher in front of the waist. the sleeves, _à la marie_, are puckered a few inches above the wrist, and confined by three straps; each with a large button. though long ends are very much in favour with silk pelerines, yet there are quite as many that are quite round; such was the black satin pelerine we cited above. 'coloured bonnets are now all the rage; we are happy to say that some, though all too large, are in the charming cottage style, and are modestly tied under the chin. some bonnets are so excessively large that they are obliged to be placed quite at the back of the head; and as their extensive brims will not support a veil, when they are ornamented with a broad blond, the edge of that just falls over the hair, but does not even conceal the eyes. leghorn hats are very general; their trimmings consist chiefly of ribbons, though some ladies add a few branches of green foliage between the bows or puffs: these are chiefly of the fern; a great improvement to these green branches is the having a few wild roses intermingled. 'the most admired colours are lavender, esterhazy, olive-green, lilac, marshmallow blossom, and indian red. 'at rural fêtes, the ornaments of the hats generally consist of flowers; these hats are backward in the arcadian fashion, and discover a wreath of small flowers on the hair, _ex bandeau_. in paris the most admired colours are ethereal-blue, hortensia, cameleopard-yellow, pink, grass-green, jonquil, and parma-violet.'--_september , ._ really this little fashion book is very charming: it recreates, for me, the elegant simpering ladies; it gives, in its style, just that artificial note which conjures this age of ladies with hats--'in the charming cottage style, modestly tied under the chin.' they had the complete art of languor, these dear creatures; they lisped italian, and were fine needlewomen; they painted weak little landscapes: nooks or arbours found them dreaming of a gothic revival--they were all this and more; but through this sweet envelope the delicate refined souls shone: they were true women, often great women; their loops of hair, their cameleopard pelerines, shall not rob them of immortality, cannot destroy their softening influence, which permeated even the outrageous dandyism of the men of their time and steered the three-bottle gentlemen, their husbands and our grandfathers, into a grand old age which we reverence to-day, and wonder at, seeing them as giants against our nerve-shattered, drug-taking generation. as for the men, look at the innumerable pictures, and collect, for instance, the material for a colossal work upon the stock ties of the time, run your list of varieties into some semblance of order; commence with the varieties of macassar-brown stocks, pass on to patent leather stocks, take your man for a walk and cause him to pass a window full of hibernian stocks, and let him discourse on the stocks worn by turf enthusiasts, and, when you are approaching the end of your twenty-third volume, give a picture of a country dinner-party, and end your work with a description of the gentlemen under the table being relieved of their stocks by the faithful family butler. powder and patches 'the affectation of a mole, to set off their beauty, such as venus had.' 'at the devill's shopps you buy a dresse of powdered hayre.' from the splendid pageant of history what figures come to you most willingly? does a great procession go by the window of your mind? knights bronzed by the sun of palestine, kings in chains, emperors in blood-drenched purple, poets clothed like grocers with the souls of angels shining through their eyes, fussy secretaries of state, informers, spies, inquisitors, court cards come to life, harlequins, statesmen in great ruffs, wives of bath in foot-mantles and white wimples, sulky puritans, laughing cavaliers, dutchmen drinking gin and talking politics, men in wide-skirted coats and huge black periwigs--all walking, riding, being carried in coaches, in sedan-chairs, over the face of england. every step of the procession yields wonderful dreams of colour; in every group there is one who, by the personality of his clothes, can claim the name of beau. near the tail of the throng there is a chattering, bowing, rustling crowd, dimmed by a white mist of scented hair-powder. they are headed, i think--for one cannot see too clearly--by the cook of the comte de bellemare, a man by name legros, the great hairdresser. under his arm is a book, the title of which reads, 'art de la coiffure des dames françaises.' behind him is a lady in an enormous hoop; her hair is dressed _à la belle poule_; she is arguing some minute point of the disposition of patches with monsieur léonard, another artist in hair. 'what will be the next wear?' she asks. 'a heart near the eye--_l'assassine_, eh? or a star near the lips--_la friponne_? must i wear a _galante_ on my cheek, an _enjouée_ in my dimple, or _la majestueuse_ on my forehead?' before we can hear the reply another voice is raised, a guttural german voice; it is john schnorr, the ironmaster of erzgebinge. 'the feet stuck in it, i tell you,' he says--'actually stuck! i got from my saddle and looked at the ground. my horse had carried me on to what proved to be a mine of wealth. hair-powder! i sold it in dresden, in leipsic; and then, at meissen, what does böttcher do but use my hair-powder to make white porcelain!' and so the chatter goes on. here is charles fox tapping the ground with his red heels and proclaiming, in a voice thick with wine, on the merits of blue hair-powder; here is brummell, free from hair-powder, free from the obnoxious necessity of going with his regiment to manchester. the dressy person and the person who is well dressed--these two showing everywhere. the one is in a screaming hue of woad, the other a quiet note of blue dye; the one in excessive velvet sleeves that he cannot manage, the other controlling a rich amplitude of material with perfect grace. here a liripipe is extravagantly long; here a gold circlet decorates curled locks with matchless taste. everywhere the battle between taste and gaudiness. high hennins, steeples of millinery, stick up out of the crowd; below these, the towers of powdered hair bow and sway as the fine ladies patter along. what a rustle and a bustle of silks and satins, of flowered tabbies, rich brocades, cut velvets, superfine cloths, woollens, cloth of gold! see, there are the square-shouldered tudors; there are the steel glints of plantagenet armour; the eastern-robed followers of coeur de lion; the swaggering beribboned royalists; the ruffs, trunks, and doublets of elizabethans; the snuffy, wide-skirted coats swaying about queen anne. there are the soft, swathed norman ladies with bound-up chins; the tapestry figures of ladies proclaiming agincourt; the dignified dames about elizabeth of york; the playmates of katherine howard; the wheels of round farthingales and the high lace collars of king james's court; the beauties, bare-breasted, of lely; the hogarthian women in close caps. and, in front of us, two posturing figures in dresden china colours, rouged, patched, powdered, perfumed, in hoop skirts, flirting with a fan--the lady; in gold-laced wide coat, solitaire, bagwig, ruffles, and red heels--the gentleman. 'i protest, madam,' he is saying, 'but you flatter me vastly.' 'la, sir,' she replies, 'i am prodigiously truthful.' 'and how are we to know that all this is true?' the critics ask, guarding the interest of the public. 'we see that your book is full of statements, and there are no, or few, authorities given for your studies. where,' they ask, 'are the venerable anecdotes which are given a place in every respectable work on your subject?' to appease the appetites which are always hungry for skeletons, i give a short list of those books which have proved most useful: ms. cotton, claudius, b. iv. ms. harl., . psalter, english, eleventh century. the bayeaux tapestry. ms. cotton, tiberius, c. vi. psalter. ms. trin. coll., camb., r. , . illustrated by eadwine, a monk, - . ms. harl. roll, y. vi. ms. harl., . stothard's 'monumental effigies.' ms. c. c. c., camb., xvi. ms. cott., nero, d. . ms. cott., nero, c. iv. full of drawings. ms. roy., , c. vii. lansdowne ms., british museum. macklin's 'monumental brasses.' _journal of the archæological association._ ms. roy., , b. vii. ms. roy., , e. iv. good marginal drawings. the loutrell psalter. invaluable for costume. ms. bodl. misc., . - . very full of useful drawings. dr. furnivall's edition of the ellesmere ms. of chaucer's 'canterbury tales.' boutell's 'monumental brasses.' ms. harl., . metrical history of the close of richard ii.'s reign. good drawings for costume. ms. harl., . ms. harl., . lydgate's 'life of st. edmund.' ms. roy., , e. vi. fine miniatures. the bedford missal, ms. add., . ms. harl., . a book of hours. many good drawings. ms. harl., . the romance of the rose. fine and useful drawings. ms. lambeth, . ms. roy., , c. viii. ms. roy., , f. ii. turberville's 'book of falconrie' and 'book of hunting.' shaw's 'dresses and decorations.' jusserand's 'english novel' and 'wayfaring life.' very excellent books, full of reproductions from illuminated books, prints, and pictures. the shepherd's calendar, , british museum. harding's 'historical portraits.' nichols's 'progresses of queen elizabeth.' stubbes's 'anatomie of abuses,' . braun's 'civitates orbis terrarum.' 'vestusta monumenta.' hollar's 'ornatus muliebris anglicanus.' hollar's 'aula veneris.' pepys's diary. evelyn's diary. tempest's 'cries of london.' fifty plates. atkinson's 'costumes of great britain.' in addition to these, there are, of course, many other books, prints, engravings, sets of pictures, and heaps of caricatures. the excellent labours of the society of antiquaries and the archæological association have helped me enormously; these, with wills, wardrobe accounts, 'satires' by hall and others, 'anatomies of abuses,' broadsides, and other works on the same subject, french, german, and english, have made my task easier than it might have been. it was no use to spin out my list of manuscripts with the numbers--endless numbers--of those which proved dry ground, so i have given those only which have yielded a rich harvest. beau brummell and clothes _'a person, my dear, who will probably come and speak to us; and if he enters into conversation, be careful to give him a favourable impression of you, for,' and she sunk her voice to a whisper, 'he is the celebrated mr. brummell.'_--'life of beau brummell,' captain jesse. those who care to make the melancholy pilgrimage may see, in the protestant cemetery at caen, the tomb of george bryan brummell. he died, at the age of sixty-two, in . it is indeed a melancholy pilgrimage to view the tomb of that once resplendent figure, to think, before the hideous grave, of the witty, clever, foolish procession from eton to oriel college, oxford; from thence to a captaincy in the th hussars, from no. chesterfield street to no. chapel street, park lane; from chapel street a flight to calais; from calais to paris; and then, at last, to caen, and the bitter, bitter end, mumbling and mad, to die in the bon sauveur. place him beside the man who once pretended to be his friend, the man of whom thackeray spoke so truly: 'but a bow and a grin. i try and take him to pieces, and find silk stockings, padding, stays, a coat with frogs and a fur coat, a star and a blue ribbon, a pocket handkerchief prodigiously scented, one of truefitt's best nutty-brown wigs reeking with oil, a set of teeth, and a huge black stock, under-waistcoats, more under-waistcoats, and then nothing.' nothing! thackeray is right; absolutely nothing remains of this king george of ours but a sale list of his wardrobe, a wardrobe which fetched £ , second-hand--a wardrobe that had been a man. he invented a shoe-buckle inch long and inches broad. he wore a pink silk coat with white cuffs. he had , steel beads on his hat. he was a coward, a good-natured, contemptible voluptuary. beside him, in our eyes, walks for a time the elegant figure of beau brummell. i have said that brummell was the inventor of modern dress: it is true. he was the beau who raised the level of dress from the slovenly, dirty linen, the greasy hair, the filthy neckcloth, the crumbled collar, to a position, ever since held by englishmen, of quiet, unobtrusive cleanliness, decent linen, an abhorrence of striking forms of dress. he made clean linen and washing daily a part of english life. see him seated before his dressing-glass, a mahogany-framed sliding cheval glass with brass arms on either sides for candles. by his side is george iv., recovering from his drunken bout of last night. the beau's glass reflects his clean-complexioned face, his grey eyes, his light brown hair, and sandy whiskers. a servant produces a shirt with a -inch collar fixed to it, assists the beau into it, arranges it, and stands aside. the collar nearly hides the beau's face. now, with his hand protected with a discarded shirt, he folds his collar down to the required height. now he takes his white stock and folds it carefully round the collar; the stock is a foot high and slightly starched. a supreme moment of artistic decision, and the stock and collar take their perfect creases. in an hour or so he will be ready to partake of a light meal with the royal gentleman. he will stand up and survey himself in his morning dress, his regular, quiet suit. a blue coat, light breeches fitting the leg well, a light waistcoat over a waistcoat of some other colour, never a startling contrast, hessian boots, or top-boots and buckskins. there was nothing very peculiar about his clothes except, as lord byron said, 'an exquisite propriety.' his evening dress was a blue coat, white waistcoat, black trousers buttoned at the ankle--these were of his own invention, and one may say it was the wearing of them that made trousers more popular than knee-breeches--striped silk stockings, and a white stock. he was a man of perfect taste--of fastidious taste. on his tables lay books of all kinds in fine covers. who would suspect it? but the prince is leaning an arm on a copy of ellis's 'early english metrical romances.' the beau is a rhymer, an elegant verse-maker. here we see the paper-presser of napoleon--i am flitting for the moment over some years, and see him in his room in calais--here we notice his passion for buhl, his sèvres china painted with court beauties. in his house in chapel street he saw daily portraits of nelson and pitt and george iii. upon his walls. this is no beau as we understand the term, for we make it a word of contempt, a nickname for a feeble fellow in magnificent garments. rather this is the room of an educated gentleman of 'exquisite propriety.' he played high, as did most gentlemen; he was superstitious, as are many of the best of men. that lucky sixpence with the hole in it that you gave to a cabman, beau brummell, was that loss the commencement of your downward career? there are hundreds of anecdotes of brummell which, despite those of the 'george, ring the bell' character, and those told of his heavy gaming, are more valuable as showing his wit, his cleanliness, his distaste of display--in fact, his 'exquisite propriety.' a beau is hardly a possible figure to-day; we have so few personalities, and those we have are chiefly concerned with trade--men who uphold trusts, men who fight trusts, men who speak for trade in the house of commons. we have not the same large vulgarities as our grandfathers, nor have we the same wholesome refinement; in killing the evil--the great gambler, the great men of the turf, the great prize-fighters, the heavy wine-drinkers--we have killed, also, the good, the classic, well-spoken civil gentleman. our manners have suffered at the expense of our morals. fifty or sixty years ago the world was full of great men, saying, writing, thinking, great things. to-day--perhaps it is too early to speak of to-day. personalities are so little marked by their clothes, by any stamp of individuality, that the caricaturist, or even the minute and truthful artist, be he painter or writer, has a difficult task before him when he sets out to point at the men of these our times. george brummell came into the world on june , . he was a year or so late for the macaroni style of dress, many years behind the fribbles, after the smarts, and must have seen the rise and fall of the zebras when he was thirteen. during his life he saw the old-fashioned full frock-coat, bagwig, solitaire, and ruffles die away; he saw the decline and fall of knee-breeches for common wear, and the pantaloons invented by himself take their place. from these pantaloons reaching to the ankle came the trousers, as fashionable garments, open over the instep at first, and joined by loops and buttons, then strapped under the boot, and after that in every manner of cut to the present style. he saw the three-cornered hat vanish from the hat-boxes of the polite world, and he saw fine-coloured clothes give way to blue coats with brass buttons or coats of solemn black. it may be said that england went into mourning over the french revolution, and has not yet recovered. beau brummell, on his way to eton, saw a gay-coloured crowd of powdered and patched people, saw claret-coloured coats covered with embroidery, gold-laced hats, twinkling shoe-buckles. on his last walks in caen, no doubt, he dreamed of london as a place of gay colours instead of the drab place it was beginning to be. to-day there is no more monotonous sight than the pavements of piccadilly crowded with people in dingy, sad clothes, with silk tubes on their heads, their black and gray suits being splashed by the mud from black hansoms, or by the scatterings of motor-cars driven by aristocratic-looking mechanics, in which mechanical-looking aristocrats lounge, darkly clad. here and there some woman's dress enlivens the monotony; here a red pillar-box shines in the sun; there, again, we bless the post-office for their red mail-carts, and perhaps we are strengthened to bear the gloom by the sight of a blue or red bus. but our hearts are not in tune with the picture; we feel the lack of colour, of romance, of everything but money, in the street. suddenly a magnificent policeman stops the traffic; there is a sound of jingling harness, of horses' hoofs beating in unison. there flashes upon us an escort of life guards sparkling in the sun, flashing specks of light from swords, breastplates, helmets. the little forest of waving plumes, the raising of hats, the polite murmuring of cheers, warms us. we feel young, our hearts beat; we feel more healthy, more alive, for this gleam of colour. then an open carriage passes us swiftly as we stand with bared heads. there is a momentary sight of a man in uniform--a man with a wonderful face, clever, dignified, kind. and we say, with a catch in our voices: 'the king--god bless him!' the end billing and sons, ltd., printers, guildford, england * * * * * transcriber's note: illustration captions in {curly brackets} have been added by the transcriber for the convenience of the reader. hyphenation has been made consistent. minor errors in punctuation have been corrected. the following items were noted by the transcriber: page --the text reads, "another thing the women did was to cut from their bodices all the little strips but the in the middle of the back, ..." which seems to be missing the word 'one' between 'the' and 'in'. it has been added in this etext. page --the word curosy may be an error for cursory, or it may be the pen-name of the quoted writer. however, as the transcriber was unable to confirm either way, it has been preserved as printed. archaic spelling is preserved as printed. variable spelling has been made consistent where there was a prevalence of one form over the other, and typographic errors have been repaired, as follows: page (plate facing)--whimple amended to wimple--"she has a wimple in her hands which she may wind about her head." page (plate facing)--whimple amended to wimple--"there is a chin-band to be seen passing under the wimple; ..." page --fontevfaud amended to fontevraud--"the effigy of the queen at fontevraud shows her dress ..." page --wode amended to woad--"... by staining themselves blue with woad and yellow with ochre, ..." page (plate facing)--whimple amended to wimple--"... a plain cloak, a plain gown, and a wimple over the head." page --kaleidscope amended to kaleidoscope--"... like the symmetrical accidents of the kaleidoscope, ..." page --head-hankerchief amended to head-handkerchief--"... as was the gown and head-handkerchief of his wife." page --repeated 'new' deleted--"... for, although men followed the new mode, ladies adhered to their earlier fashions." page --tieing amended to tying--"every quaint thought and invention for tying up this liripipe was used: ..." page --tow amended to two--"then there were two distinct forms of cape: ..." page --ploughman amended to plowman--"... william langland, or piers the plowman." page --louttrell amended to loutrell--"... together with the artist of the loutrell psalter, ..." page --repeated 'british' removed--"... are cheap to obtain and the british museum is free to all." page --waistcoast amended to waistcoat--"over his tunic he wears a quilted waistcoat, ..." page --excresences amended to excrescences--"... surmounted by minarets, towers, horns, excrescences of every shape ..." page --katharine amended to katherine--"married, , katherine of aragon; ..." and "... , katherine howard; ..." page --martin amended to marten--"... to wear marten or velvet trimming you must be worth over two hundred marks a year." page --anp amended to and (typesetting error)--"how, they and we ask, are breeches, ..." page --nuserie amended to nurserie--"'the wits nurserie.'" page --underproper amended to underpropper--"first, the lady put on her underpropper of wire ..." and "... wore such a ruff as required an underpropper, ..." page --choses amended to chooses--"... and from these the queen chooses one." page --fardingle amended to fardingale--"... and twirl her round until the catherine-wheel fardingale is a blurred circle, ..." page --castille amended to castile--"on another day comes the news that the constable of castile ..." page --macaronies amended to macaronis--"... you may tell yourself here is one of the new macaronis, ..." the frontispiece illustration has been moved to follow the title page. other illustrations have been moved where necessary so that they are not in the middle of a paragraph. americana ebrietatis _byegone ways of byegone days_ one hundred copies of this edition have been printed for sale and the type distributed americana ebrietatis; the favorite tipple of our forefathers and the laws and customs relating thereto by hewson l. peeke [illustration] privately printed new york, copyrighted by hewson l. peeke to my father, rev. geo. h. peeke, whose vote followed his prayers, this little book is dedicated, except the chapter on the "church and the clergy," which is dedicated to that large majority of the ministry who vote one way and pray the opposite, as their clerical forefathers did. these pages are not written to prove any theory or fact except the growth of sentiment in the last two centuries against the liquor traffic. though prepared somewhat as a lawyer briefs a case, omitting for the most part the citation of authorities, no fact is given that does not rest on the authority of some writer. the authority can be produced if required. the research represents the culling of some four hundred volumes. h. l. peeke the reprint of _ebrietatis encomium_, london, , led many of my friends to suggest the desirability of a more modern work on the later views and customs concerning drunkenness. thanks to the most timely and exceptional research of the author, i present for their delectation a treatise along this very line, which will pleasantly while away a winter evening. l. m. thompson contents chapter i customs based on race source of population chapter ii early attempts at regulation by legislation tariffs internal revenue tax chapter iii schools and colleges chapter iv bench and bar chapter v church and clergy chapter vi relation of george washington to the liquor traffic relation of other prominent americans to the liquor traffic chapter vii the slave trade the southern planter the indian tribes politics and elections early defiance of law chapter viii christenings--marriages--funerals chapter ix vendues--chopping bees--house bees--wood spells-- clearing bees traveling and taverns chapter x extent and effect of the traffic at flood tide whiskey as money temperance societies chapter i _customs based on race source of population_ in order to understand the laws, social habits, and customs in regard to the use of liquor it seems proper to consider briefly the sources of the population of the different states and of the country generally. at the time when america was settled, no european people drank water as we do today for a constant beverage. the english drank ale, the dutch beer, the french and spanish light wines, for every day use. hence it seemed to the colonists a dangerous experiment to drink water in the new world. the dutch were great beer drinkers and quickly established breweries at albany and new york. before the century ended new englanders had abandoned the constant drinking of ale and beer for cider. cider was very cheap; but a few shillings a barrel. it was supplied in large amounts to students at college and even very little children drank it. president john adams was an early and earnest wisher for temperance reform; but, to the end of his life, he drank a large tankard of hard cider every morning when he first got up. it was free in every farmhouse to all travelers and tramps. as years passed on and great wealth came to individuals the tables of the opulent dutch rivalled the luxury of english and french houses of wealth. when doctor cutler dined with colonel duer in new york in there were fifteen kinds of wine served, besides beer, cider, and porter. in the dutch cellar might be found apples, parsnips, turnips, etc., along with barrels of vinegar, cider, and ale, and canty brown jugs of rum. in the houses of the wealthier classes there was also plenty of wine, either of the claret family or some kind of sack, which was a name covering sherries, canaries, and madeiras. teetotalism would have been quite unintelligible to the farmer or burgher of those healthy days of breezy activity out of doors. in the dutch cupboard or on the sideboard always stood the gleaming decanter of cut-glass or the square high-shouldered magnum of aromatic schnapps. the drinking habits of the dutch colonists were excessive. tempered in their tastes somewhat by the universal brewing and drinking of beer, they did not use as much as the puritans of new england, nor drink as deeply as the virginia planters, but the use of liquor was universal. a libation was poured on every transaction at every happening of the community; in public as well as private life john barleycorn was a witness at the drawing of a contract, the signing of a deed, the selling of a farm, the purchase of goods, the arbitration of a suit. if a party backed out from a contract he did not back out from the treat. liquor was served at vendues and made the bidders expansive. it appeared at weddings, funerals, church openings, deacon ordainings, and house raisings. no farm hand in haying, no sailor on a vessel, no workman in a mill, no cobbler, tailor, carpenter, mason, or tinker would work without some strong drink or treat. the bill for liquor where many workmen were employed at a house raising was often a heavy one. as to new england, eugene lawrence in his papers on colonial progress, says, "wines and liquors were freely consumed by our ancestors and even new england had as yet ( ) no high repute for temperance. rum was taken as a common restorative." the puritans had no objection to wine, and in latter colonial times hard drinking was very common even among ministers; but they were much opposed to health drinking which was too jovial and pleasant to suit their gloomy principles. doctor peters thus speaks of connecticut: "the various fruits are in greater perfection than in england. the peach and apple are more luscious, beautiful, and large; one thousand peaches are produced from one tree; five or six barrels of cider from one apple tree. cider is the common drink at the table. the inhabitants have a method of purifying cider by frost and separating the watery part from the spirit, which, being secured in proper vessels and colored by indian corn, becomes, in three months so much like madeira wine, that europeans drink it without perceiving the difference. they make peachy and perry, grape and currant wines, and good beers of pumpkin, molasses, bran of wheat, spruce, and malt." perry was made from pears, as cider is from apples, and peachy from peaches. metheglin and mead, drinks of the old druids in england, were made from honey, yeast, and water. in virginia whole plantations of the honey locust furnished locust beans for making metheglin. from persimmons, elderberries, juniper berries, pumpkins, cornstalks, hickory nuts, sassafras bark, birch bark, and many other leaves and roots various light wines were made. an old song boasted: oh we can make liquor to sweeten our lips of pumpkins, of parsnips, of walnut-tree chips. beer was brewed in families, and the orchards soon yielded an abundance of cider. in the production of cider increased so that one village of forty families made three thousand barrels, and in judge joseph wilder, of lancaster, made six hundred and sixteen barrels himself. when the quakers framed their constitution for pennsylvania they inserted clauses punishing swearing, intemperance, cardplaying, and the drinking of healths. they were mighty drinkers in their sober fashion, consuming vast quantities of ale and spirits, and making no serious inroads on the pure and wholesome water, although we are gravely assured that particular pumps, one on walnut street, and one in norris alley, were held in especial favor as having the best water in town for the legitimate purpose of boiling greens. their first beer was made from molasses, and we have penn's assurance that, when "well boyled with sassafras or pine infused into it," this was a very tolerable drink. rum punch was also in liberal demand, and after a few years the thirsty colonists began to brew ale, and drank it out of deep pewter mugs. when congress met in , in philadelphia, john adams was shocked by the display of eatables. his appetite overcame his scruples, although after each feast he scourged himself for yielding. after dining with mr. miers, a young quaker lawyer, adams remarks in his diary: "a mighty feast again; nothing less than the very best of claret, madeira, and burgundy. i drank madeira at a great rate and found no inconvenience. this plain friend and his plain though pretty wife, with her thees and thous, had provided us the most costly entertainment, ducks, hams, chickens, beef, pig, tarts, creams, custards, jellies, fools, trifles, floating islands, beer, porter, punch, wine, etc." again after dining at mr. powell's: "a most sinful feast again: everything which could delight the eye, or allure the taste, curds, and creams, jellies, sweetmeats of various kinds, twenty sorts of tarts, fools, trifles, floating islands, whipped syllabubs, etc. parmesan cheese, punch, wine, porter, beer, etc." the swedes planted peach and fruit trees of all kinds, had flourishing gardens, and grew rich selling the products when the quakers arrived. they made wine, beer, or brandy out of sassafras, persimmons, corn, and apparently anything that could be made to ferment and they imported madeira. acrelius, their historian, gives a long list of their drinks, and tells us that they always indulged in four meals a day. in the _true and sincere declaration_, issued in december, , by the governor and council for virginia, there was an advertisement for two brewers, who, as soon as they were secured, were to be dispatched to the colony. brewers were also included among the tradesmen who were designed by the company to go over with sir thomas gates. this indicated the importance in the eyes of that corporation of establishing the means in virginia of manufacturing malt liquors on the spot instead of relying on the importation from england. the notion arose that one of the principal causes of mortality so prevalent among those arriving in the colony, in the period following the first settlement of the country, was the substitution of water for beer to which the immigrants had been accustomed in england. the assembly, in the session of , went so far as to recommend that all new comers should bring in a supply of malt to be used in brewing liquor, thus making it unnecessary to drink the water of virginia until the body had become hardened to the climate. previous to , two brew-houses were in operation in the colony, and the patronage they received was evidently very liberal. cider was in as common use as beer; in season it was found in the house of every planter in the colony. it was the form of consideration in which rent was occasionally settled; the instance of alexander moore, of new york, shows the quantity often bequeathed: he left at his decease twenty gallons of raw cider and one hundred and thirty of boiled. richard moore of the same county kept on hand as many as fourteen cider casks. richard bennett made about twenty butts of cider annually, while richard kinsman compressed from the pears growing in his orchard forty or fifty of perry. a supply of spirits was provided for the members of public bodies when they convened. the character of the liquors used depended on the nature of the assemblage. when charles hansford and david condon, as executors of the widow of the unfortunate thomas hansford, leased her residence in york to the justice of the peace of that county to serve as a court house, they bound themselves to furnish not only accommodations for horses, but also a gallon of brandy during each session of the bench. it is not stated whether this brandy was consumed by the honorable justices in the form of the drink which had become so famous in later times in virginia, the mint julep, but if mint was cultivated in the colony at that age, it is quite probable that a large part of this gallon was converted into that mixture. in the justices of lower norfolk county rented the tract of land on which the court house was situated, on condition that the lessee, in part consideration for the use of the houses and orchards each year, would pay ten gallons brewed from english grain. the members of the council appear to have been fastidious in their tastes. it was one of the duties of the auditor-general to have a large quantity of wine always ready at hand for this body. thus on one occasion william byrd, who filled the office in the latter part of the century, ordered for their use twenty dozen of claret, and six dozen of canary, sherry, and rhenish, respectively. a quarter of a cask of brandy was also to be added. chapter ii _early attempts at regulation by legislation_ this unrestrained indulgence in liquor, which previous to had excited the criticism of the company, called down on the colony on several occasions the animadversion of the royal governor after he had taken charge of affairs in virginia. in governor yeardley was instructed to suppress drunkenness by severe punishments, and to dispose of the spirits brought into the colony in such manner that it would go to the relief and comfort of the whole plantation instead of falling into the hands of those who would abuse it. he received additional orders to return to the importers all liquors shown to be decayed or unwholesome. the injunction to withhold all liquors imported into the colony from persons who were guilty of excess in the use of them was repeated. the attempts to prevent drunkenness were not confined to instructions to the governors, given by the authorities in england. from the first session of the first assembly, no legislative means were left unemployed to accomplish the same object. in it was provided that the person guilty in this respect should for the first offense be privately reproved by his minister; for the second, publicly; for the third be imprisoned for twelve hours; and if still incorrigible be punished as the governor directed. in march, - , the church-wardens in every parish were ordered to present all persons guilty of drunkenness to the commander of the plantation. in - the offender was required to pay five shillings into the hands of the nearest vestry, and this fine could be made good by levy on his property. in - the person guilty of inebriety was punished by a very heavy fine, and also rendered incapable of being a witness in court, or bearing office under the government of the colony. in the penalty for drunkenness was ten shillings, and if unable to pay the sum, the offender was to be exposed in the stocks for the space of two hours. in there were so many taverns and tippling houses in the colony that it was found necessary to reduce the number in each county to one or two, unless, for the accommodation of travelers, more should be needed at ports, ferries, and the crossings of great roads, in addition to that which was erected at the court house. drunkards were severely punished and were set in the stocks and whipped. on september , , in boston one robert coles was "fined ten shillings and enjoined to stand with a white sheet of paper on his back, whereon _drunkard_ shall be written in great lynes, and to stand therewith soe long as the court find meet, for abusing himself shamefully with drinke." robert coles for "drunkenness by him committed at rocksbury shall be disfranchised, weare about his neck, and so to hang upon his outward garment a d made of redd cloth & sett upon white; to continue this for a yeare, & not to have it off any time hee comes among company, under the penalty of one shilling for the first offense, and five pounds for the second, and afterwards to be punished by the court as they think meet: _also he is to weare the d outwards_." lists of names of common drunkards were given to landlords in some towns, and landlords were warned not to sell liquor to them. licenses were removed and fines imposed on those who did not heed the warning. the tithing man, that most bumptious public functionary of colonial times, was at first the official appointed to spy specially on the ordinaries. he inspected these houses, made complaints of any disorders he discovered, and gave into the constable the names of idle drinkers and gamers. he warned the keepers of public houses to sell no more liquor to any whom he fancied had been tippling too freely. john josslyn, an english visitor in boston in , complained bitterly thus: "at houses of entertainment into which a stranger went, he was presently followed by one appointed to that office, who would thrust himself into the company uninvited, and if he called for more drink than the officer thought in his judgment he could soberly bear away, he would presently countermand it, and appoint the proportion, beyond which he could not get one drop." the prisons found little occupation as compared with the pillory and the whipping post. the latter was the common corrector of drunkenness. we have an amusing description of what constitutes drunkenness, from colonel dodberry: "now for to know a drunken man the better, the scriptures describes them to stagger and reel to and fro; and so when the same legs which carry a man into the house can not bring him out again, it is a sufficient sign of drunkenness." in , during the supremacy of nathaniel bacon, at which time so many laws were passed for the purpose of suppressing long standing abuses, a legislative attempt was made to enforce what practically amounted to general prohibition. the licenses of all inns, alehouses, and tippling houses, except those at james city, and at the two great ferries of york river, were revoked. the keepers of the ordinaries which were permitted to remain open at the latter places were allowed to sell only beer and cider. this regulation was remarkable in that it was adopted by the action of the people, who must have been the principal customers of the tippling houses, if not of the inns. not content with putting a stop to sales in public places, the framers of the regulation further prescribed that "no one should presume to sell any sort of drink whatsoever, by retail, under any color, pretence, delusion, or subtle evasion whatsoever, to be drunk or spent in his or their house or houses, upon his or their plantation or plantations." the general court of massachusetts on one occasion required the proper officers to notice the apparel of the people, especially their "ribbands and great boots." drinking of healths in public or private; funeral badges; celebrating the church festivals of christmas and easter; and many other things that seemed quite improper to magistrates and legislators, and especially to the puritan clergy, were forbidden. in pennsylvania men were imprisoned in a cage seven feet high, seven feet wide, and seven feet long, for selling liquor to the indians and for watering the white man's rum, both of which offences the law placed on equal footing. virginia and new jersey declared liquor debts uncollectible by law. several of the colonies forbade workmen to be paid in liquor. in massachusetts, in , the law required that all who bought liquor should render an account of it except state officers, professors and students of harvard college, and preachers of the gospel. the law frequently manifested great concern about the clergy. virginia had a statute making it an offence for a minister to appear drunk in his pulpit on sunday, and in addition the following statute: "ministers shall not give themselves to excess in drinking or riot, spending their time idly by day or by night, playing at dice, cards, or any unlawful game, but at all times convenient they shall hear or read some what of the holy scriptures." it is one of the curiosities of old time legislation that the use of tobacco was in earliest colonial days plainly regarded by the magistrates and elders as far more sinful, degrading, and harmful than indulgence in intoxicating liquors. no one could take tobacco "publicquely" nor in his own house, or anywhere else before strangers. two men were forbidden to smoke together. no one could smoke within two miles of the meeting house on the sabbath day. there were wicked backsliders who were caught smoking around the corner of the meeting house, and others in the street, and they were fined and set in the stocks and in cages. _tariffs_ after the thirteen colonies had formed "a more perfect union" the question of revenue caused a heated discussion. of the many ways through which a sure revenue might flow into the treasury none seemed as desirable as an impost. of molasses, two millions of gallons came into the country each year. a few hundreds of thousands of these were consumed as food. the remainder were hurried to the massachusetts distilleries and there made into the far-famed new england rum, which by the fishermen at the grand banks was thought much finer than the best that came from jamaica. all other goods brought into any port in the country were to be taxed at five per cent of their value. a long list of articles was given on which special duties were to be paid. at the head of the list stood jamaica rum, which on motion was changed to distilled spirits of jamaica proof. two duties were suggested, one of fifteen cents on the gallon, which speedily divided the committee. some thought such rates too high. some declared they were much too low. and before the discussion had gone far it turned into a debate on the good and ill effects of high duties and low duties. one low tariff member remarked that the first thing to be considered in laying a tax was the likelihood of gathering it, and that as taxes increased this likelihood decreased. "i trust," said he, "it does not need illustration to convince every member of the committee that a high duty is a very strong temptation to smuggling. just in the proportion which a tax bears to the value of an article is the risk men will run in their attempts to bring in that article in an illegal way. this impairs the revenue, and in time so much comes in through the hands of smugglers that no revenue is yielded at all." boudinot said "he for one would be glad to see jamaica rum doing just that very thing." there were three good results that would come of a high rum tariff: the treasury wanted money, and surely there was no article on the lists of taxable goods so likely to furnish a revenue as rum; the importation would be discouraged, and that was beneficial to the morals of the people; the west indian distilleries would have no inducement to turn their molasses into rum, and as they had no markets for molasses save those of the united states, the home stills would be set actively to work. these remarks on the moral effects of the tax were violently attacked by two members from the eastward. fisher ames quite forgot himself, and reminded the committee, with great vehemence of gesture and speech, that they were not in church or at school, to sit listening to harangues of speculative piety. we are, exclaimed he, to talk of the political interests committed to our care. when we take up the subject of morality then let our system look toward morality, and not confound itself with revenue and the protection of manufactures. if any man supposes that a mere law can turn the taste of a people from ardent spirits to malt liquors, he has a most romantic notion of legislative power. lawrence, one of the members from new york, took up the attack. he was for low tariff. "if," said he, "the committee is to reason and act as moralists, the arguments of the member from new jersey are sound. for it must be the wish of every man of sense to discourage the use of articles so ruinous to health and morals as rum. but we are to act as politicians, not as moralists. rum, not morality, is to be taxed. money, not sobriety, is the object of the tax." the justness of this reasoning was lost on the committee, and spirits of jamaica proof were taxed at fifteen cents a gallon. the duty finally levied on all distilled spirits was due to the influence of hamilton, whose first tariff bill also imposed a duty on glass, "with the significant reservation," as blaine states, "in deference to popular habits that black quart bottles should be admitted free." _internal revenue tax_ the system of internal taxation by the federal government began on that memorable day in when washington signed the bill laying a duty on domestic distilled spirits; a tax which, proving more harsh in its operations than was expected, was amended in , and after being denounced by legislatures and by mass meetings as oppressive, unequal, and unjust, was openly resisted by the people of western pennsylvania, who rose in armed rebellion in . in that same year taxes were laid on licenses for retailing wine and liquor, and on the manufacture of snuff, tobacco, and refined sugar, on carriages, and on sales at auction. in the taxes on carriages, on licenses for retailing liquor, on snuff and refined sugar, on sales at auction, when about to expire, were continued without a time limit; but the next year the republicans were in control, and every kind of internal tax was abolished with exultation. with this record behind them the two parties met in the extra session of the thirteenth congress and changed places. the federalists became the enemies of taxation; the republicans became its advocates, and before the session ended taxed pleasure carriages, sales at auction, sugar refineries, salt, licenses to sell liquor at retail; laid a stamp tax on all kinds of legal documents, taxed whiskey stills, imposed a direct tax of three million dollars and brought back all the machinery of assessment and collection, and again turned loose in the land the tax gatherer and what they had once called his minions. as some months must necessarily pass before any money could be raised from these sources, another loan of seven million and a half was authorized. from this time until the present liquor has been constantly taxed both by state and nation, and has been relied on to furnish a large part of the public revenue. chapter iii _schools and colleges_ what the common schools of a century or two ago must have been is indicated by a description of the colleges which will hereafter be given in this chapter. many of the school-masters were ignorant, and in addition were much addicted to the use of intoxicating liquors. the first of whom we have any trace was jan roelandsen, a new york school-master, who is on record as lying drunk for a month at a time, and being incorrigibly lazy. he was the first of many. winthrop, in his _history of new england_, describes the censuring of nathaniel eton, a school-master, for furnishing insufficient board to his scholars, in which proceeding his wife testified that the bread and beer was always free for the boarders to go to. in a school bill for a couple of boys of the lloyd family of long island contained the following items: a bottle of wine for his mistress d. wormwood and rubab d. while the boys took the drugs the school-mistress drank the wine. henry clay's education was in a district school taught in a log cabin by an intemperate englishman, and consisted of the merest rudiments. peter cartwright speaks of his school teacher as a seceder minister who would get drunk at times. washington irving's _ichabod crane_, and eggleston's _hoosier school-master_ are at least average pictures of the country school-masters of an early day. the chorus of the school-masters seems to have been: "let schoolmasters puzzle their brains with grammar and nonsense and learning, _good liquor_ i stoutly maintain gives genius a better discerning." macmasters describes early college life in as follows: "the students lodged in the dormitories and ate at the commons. the food then partaken of with thankfulness would now be looked upon as prison fare. at breakfast, which was served at sunrise in summer and at day-break in winter, there was doled out to each student a small can of unsettled coffee, a size of biscuit, and a size of butter weighing generally about an ounce. dinner was the staple meal, and at this each student was regaled with a pound of meat. two days in the week, monday and thursday, the meat was boiled, and, in college language, these were known as boiling days. on the five remaining days, the meat was roasted, and to them the nickname of roasting days were fastened. with the flesh always went potatoes. when boiling days came round, pudding and cabbage, wild peas and dandelions were added. the only delicacy to which no stint was applied was the cider, a beverage then fast supplanting the small beer of the colonial days. this was brought to the mess in pewter cans which were passed from mouth to mouth, and when emptied were again replenished. for supper there was a bowl of milk and a size of bread." the oldest college in the united states, that of william and mary, was founded by the king and queen of that name, who gave it twenty thousand acres of land and a penny a pound duty on tobacco exported from virginia and maryland. the assembly also gave it a duty on imported liquors for its support. this was in , and the proceeds of the tax were to be devoted to its running expenses and the establishment of scholarships. twenty-five years later the same benevolent body enriched the college with the proceeds of the tax on peddlers. those who are inclined to throw stones at the source of these benefactions should remember that harvard college has more than once profited by the gains of an authorized lottery, receiving more than eighteen thousand dollars from such a source as late as . in the rules of william and mary college required that "spirituous liquors were to be used in that moderation which became the prudent and industrious student." from the list were excluded all liquids but beer, cider, toddy, and spirits and water. in , when the bishop of virginia was president of the college and had apartments in the building, the english traveler weld noticed that half a dozen or more of the students dined at his table one day when he was there. "some were without shoes and stockings, others without coats. during the meal they constantly rose to help themselves from the sideboard." william and mary college, during the days of jefferson and monroe, was "a riot of pleasure and power, a jumble of royalist splendor and patriotic fervor, an awe of learning, and indulgence of _vice_." thomas jefferson, the most eminent graduate of the college, and its cordial friend, in advanced life remembered the "regular annual riot and battles between the students and the town boys;" and bore testimony to other greater evils. from one source and another have come down to us complaints that the college was neither a college, nor a grammar school, nor an indian hospital; that its teachers squabbled among themselves to the detriment of their academic work; and that some of the professors sent out by the bishops of london were drunken, quarrelsome, and ignorant of the subjects they professed to teach. the president, representing the bishop, might have brought charges against the clergy for their flagrant drunkenness but he refrained, being himself a notorious drunkard. farquier, representative of the crown, was the most finished gentleman virginia had known, and also the most demoralizing. he introduced a passion for high play that ruined many a fine old family, encouraged hard drinking and a mania for racing, delighted in having the clergy and favored students join him in his all-night revels. commencement at harvard in old new england days was a fête indeed; a fête so important as to be attended by giant expenditures and sinful extravagance. indeed, so early as in its history, an act was passed "that henceforth no preparation nor provision of either plumb cake, or roasted, boyled or baked meats or pyes of any kind shall be made by any commencer," and that "no such have any distilled liquors in his chamber or any composition therewith," under penalty of twenty shillings or forfeiture of the said provisions. five years later several acts were passed "for preventing the excesses, immoralities and disorders of the commencements," by way of enforcing the foregoing act. these, with a simplicity of conclusion which brings a smile, declare that "if any who now doe or hereafter shall stand for their degrees, presume to doe anything contrary to the said act or goe about to evade it by plain cake," they shall forfeit the honors of the college. in the latter part of the eighteenth century the yale college butler held his buttery in the ground floor, front corner room, of south middle college, and sold cider, metheglin, strong beer, together with loaf sugar, etc., to the students. dr. lyman beecher, in his autobiography, says of old doctor dwight, then president of the college: "before he came college was in a most ungodly state.... wine and liquor were kept in many rooms, intemperance, profanity, gambling, and licentiousness were common." john bacon, afterwards united states senator, and chief justice of new hampshire, sailed from boston for princeton college september , . in his diary he states his outfit. qts west india rum qr. lb. tea, doz. fowls, lbs. loaf sugar, doz- lemons, lbs. butter, in a book published in describing student life at princeton, it is stated that "the general table drink is beer or cider." washington irving, in _salmagundi_, described seeing two students at the tavern at princeton who got drunk and cursed the professors. madison was a _poler_ at princeton, and although the five o'clock horn was a sovereign preventive of midnight revelry, madison was occasionally found around the blazing logs of the nassau inn, when tankards of ale and puffs at the long stemmed pipes punctuated the students' songs. james buchanan at dickinson was the typical _bad boy_. immorality was rampant among the students, sobriety and books were ridiculed. buchanan became a leader in debauchery, although his physique enabled him at the same time to maintain a high rank in scholarship. the faculty chose him as a scapegoat, and he was expelled. benny havens, the hero of the west point song, for many years sold liquor illicitly to the cadets. the foundation of vassar college was the fortune acquired by matthew vassar as a brewer. chapter iv _bench and bar_ the field which then lay before the ablest lawyers was far less extensive and far less lucrative than at present. thousands of cases now arise which could not then have possibly arisen. no wealthy corporations existed, expending each year in lawyers' fees enough money to have paid the taxes of the four colonies of new england. patent law and railroad law, the business of banks and insurance companies, express companies, telegraph companies, and steamships, have given rise to legal questions of which neither parsons, nor tudor, nor dexter had any conception whatever. a fee of $ , was unknown; a suit involving $ , , was unheard of. yet the profession was not ill-paid and offered many incentives to bright young men. the law student of that day usually began by offering his services to some lawyer of note, and if they were accepted he paid a fee of a hundred dollars, and began to read law books and copy briefs. in the course of two years he was expected to have become familiar with _coke on littleton_, with wood's _institutes of civil law_, with _piggot on conveyances_, with burns's _justice of the peace_, with hawkin's _pleas of the crown_, with salkeld's _reports_, with lillie's _abridgements_, and with some work on chancery practice and some work on what would now be called international law. this accomplished, his patron would take him into court, seat him at the lawyers' table, whisper to the gentlemen present, and with their consent would rise and ask leave of the court to present a young man for the oath of an attorney. the court would ask if the bar consented. the lawyers would then bow. the patron would vouch for the morals and learning of his young friend, and the oath would be administered by the clerk. this done, the new attorney would be introduced to the bar and carried off to the nearest tavern where health and prosperity would be drunk to him in bumpers of strong punch. thaddeus stevens has left an amusing account of his brief connection, about , with the maryland bar. the examination took place in the evening before the judge and the bar committee. his honor informed stevens that there was one indispensable requisite to the examination. "there must be two bottles of madeira on the table and the applicant must order it in." stevens complied with the condition, and, after the wine had been disposed of, one of the committee asked the applicant what books he had read. he replied, "_blackstone, coke upon littleton_, a work on pleading, and _gilbert on evidence_." he was then asked two or three questions, the last of which related to the difference between executory devises and a contingent remainder. a satisfactory answer to this question led his honor again to intervene. "gentlemen," said the judge, "you see the young man is all right. i will give him a certificate." but before the certificate was delivered, the candidate was informed that usage required that the ceremony should terminate in the same way it had opened, and that two more bottles must be produced. stevens very willingly complied with this requirement and was made a member of the bar. with such a bar the courts were rude and primitive. the courts sat often times in taverns, where the tedium of business was relieved by glasses of grog, while the judge's decisions were not put on record, but were simply shouted by the crier from the inn door at the nearest market place. in north carolina the laws were not printed for a long time but only read aloud in the market place, and the courts and legislature met in private houses and taverns. probably the best type of the judges produced by this system was old chief justice marshall, who occupied the highest seat in the supreme court of the united states for years. his decisions were recorded and will be the noblest monument a man could have or wish. in reference to two of them, judge story says: "if all the acts of his judicial life or arguments had perished, his luminous judgments on these occasions would give an enviable immortality to his name." judge story said of the mode of life of the judges at these general terms of the court: "our intercourse is perfectly familiar and unrestrained, and our social hours, when undisturbed with the labors of law, are passed in gay and frank conversation, which at once enlivens and instructs. we take no part in washington society. we dine once a year with the president, and that is all. on other days we dine together, and discuss at table the questions which are argued before us. we are great ascetics and even deny ourselves wine except in wet weather. what i say about the wine gives you our rule; but it does sometimes happen that the chief justice will say to me, when the cloth is removed, 'brother story, step to the window and see if it does not look like rain.' and if i tell him the sun is shining brightly, justice marshall will sometimes reply, 'all the better, for our jurisdiction extends over so large a territory that the doctrine of chances makes it certain that it must be raining somewhere.' the chief was brought up on federalism and madeira, and he is not the man to outgrow his early prejudices. the best madeira was that labelled 'the supreme court,' as their honors, the justices, used to make a direct importation every year, and sip it as they consulted over the cases before them every day after dinner, when the cloth had been removed." returning to lawyers, henry clay was extremely convivial, keenly enjoying the society of his friends. he was fastidious in his tastes though far from being an epicure. he indulged moderately in wine, took snuff, and used tobacco freely. in earlier days he lost and won large sums of money at play but ceased the practice of gaming in consequence of censure, though he remained inveterately fond of whist. webster was majestic in his consumption of liquor as in everything else. parton in his essay speaks of seeing webster at a public dinner "with a bottle of madeira under his yellow waistcoat and looking like jove." schuyler colfax frequently spoke of seeing webster so drunk that he did not know what he was doing. josiah quincy describes webster's grief at the burning of his house because of the loss of half a pipe of madeira wine. john sherman in his _recollections_ describes hearing webster deliver a speech at a public dinner when intoxicated. "in ante-bellum days, at this season of the year, when there was a long session, a party went down the potomac every saturday on the steamboat salem to eat planked shad. it was chiefly composed of senators and representatives, with a few leading officials, some prominent citizens, and three or four newspaper men, who in those days never violated the amenities of social life by printing what they heard there. an important house in georgetown would send on board the steamer large demijohns filled with the best wines and liquors, which almost everybody drank without stint. going down the river there was a good deal of card playing in the upper saloon of the boat, with some story telling on the hurricane deck. arriving at the white house fishing grounds, some would go on shore, some would watch the drawing of the seine from the boat, some would take charge of the culinary department, and a few would remain at the card tables. the oaken planks used were about two inches thick, fourteen inches wide, and two feet long. these were scalded and then wiped dry. a freshly caught shad was then taken, scaled, split open down the back, cleaned, washed and dried. it was then spread out on a plank and nailed to it with iron pump tacks. the plank with the fish on it was then stood at an angle of forty-five degrees before a hot wood fire and baked until it was a rich dark brown color, an attendant turning the plank every few moments and basting the fish with a thin mixture of melted butter and flour. meanwhile an experienced cook was frying fresh shad roe in a mixture of eggs and cracker dust at another fire. the planked shad, meanwhile, were served on the planks on which they had been cooked, each person having a plank and picking out what portion he liked best, breaking up his roast potato on the warm shad, while the roe was also served to those who wished for it. after the fish came punch and cigars and then they reëmbarked and the bows of the steamer were turned toward washington. when opposite alexandria an account was taken of the liquor and wine which had been drunk, and an assessment was levied, which generally amounted to about $ . each. i never saw a person intoxicated at one of these shad bakes, nor heard any quarreling." it is said that webster went fishing the day before he was to deliver his welcome to lafayette, and got drunk. as he sat on the bank he suddenly drew from the water a large fish and in his majestic voice said, "welcome, illustrious stranger, to our shores." the next day his friends, who went fishing with him, were electrified to hear him begin his speech to lafayette with these same words. chapter v _church and clergy_ the first tavern at cambridge, massachusetts, was kept by a deacon of the church, afterwards, steward of harvard college; and the relation of tavern and meeting house did not end with their simultaneous establishment, but they continued the most friendly neighbors. licenses to keep houses of entertainment were granted with the condition that the tavern must be near the meeting-house--a keen contrast to our present laws prohibiting the sale of liquor within a certain distance of a church. those who know the oldtime meeting house can fully comprehend the desire of the colonists to have a tavern near at hand, especially during the winter services. through autumn rains and winter frosts and snows the poorly built meeting house stood unheated, growing more damp, more icy, more deadly, with each succeeding week. women cowered shivering, half-frozen, over the feeble heat of a metal footstove as the long services dragged on and the few coals became ashes. men stamped their feet and swung their arms in the vain effort to warm the blood. gladly and cheerfully did the whole crowd troop from the gloomy meeting house to the cheerful tavern to thaw out before the afternoon service, and to warm up before the ride or walk home in the late afternoon. it was a scandal in many a town that godly church members took too freely of tavern cheer at the nooning; the only wonder is that the entire congregation did not succumb in a body to the potent flip and toddy of the tavern-keeper. in mid-summer the hot sun beat down on the meeting house roof, and the burning rays poured in the unshaded windows. the tap-room of the tavern and the green trees in its dooryard offered a pleasant shade to tired church-goers, and its well sweep afforded a grateful drink to those who turned not to the tap-room. there are ever back-sliders in every church community; many walked into the ordinary door instead of up the church alley. the chimney seat of the inn was more comfortable than the narrow seat of the "pue." the general court of massachusetts passed a law requiring all inn-keepers within a mile of any meeting house to clear their houses "during the hours of the exercise." "thus," mr. field says wittily, "the townsmen were frozen out of the tavern to be frozen in the meeting house." our ancestors had no reverence for a church save as a literal meeting house, and it was not unusual to transform the house of god into a tavern. the great house at charlestown, massachusetts, the official residence of governor winthrop, became a meeting house in , and then a tavern, the three cranes, kept by robert leary and his descendants for many years. it was destroyed in june, , in the burning of the town. the first revenue relinquished by the west india company to the town of new amsterdam was the excise on wine, beer, and spirits, and the sole condition made by stuyvesant on its surrender was as to its application, that the salaries of the dominies should be paid from it. for a year beginning november, , the burghers of esopus paid a tax on liquor, the proceeds of which were used to build a parsonage for the minister. st. philip's church in charleston, south carolina, was originally built by a tax of two pence a gallon on spirits imported in . between and the public revenues of south carolina were all raised by three per cent duties on liquors, wines, sugar, molasses, slaves, and imported dry-goods, and produced about forty-five hundred pounds, of which one thousand pounds were devoted to paying the salaries of ten ministers. the dedication of st. michael's church in charleston, south carolina, was followed by a great dinner, at which a large amount of liquor was consumed. under such circumstances it could not be expected that the clergy would be much troubled with scruples on the use of liquor, and the evidence is that they were not. we must bear in mind that the use of liquors was universal in those days. "ordination day" was almost as great a day for the tavern as for the meeting house. the visiting ministers who came to assist at the religious service of ordination of a new minister were usually entertained at the tavern. often a specially good beer was brewed called "ordination beer," and in connecticut an "ordination ball" was given at the tavern--this with the sanction of the parsons. the bills for entertaining the visitors for the dinner and lodging at the local taverns are in many cases preserved. one of the most characteristic was at a hartford ordination. it runs: to keeping ministers, £ s. d. mugs toddy, segars, pint wine, lodgings, bitters, breakfasts, boles punch, dinners, bottles wine, mugs flip, boles punch, boles toddy, the bill is endorsed with unconscious humor, "this is all paid for except the minister's rum." here is another ordination bill: boles of punch before the people went to meeting. bottles of wine before they went to meeting. bowles of punch while at dinner. bottles of wine. bowles of brandy. cherry rum [quantity not mentioned]. when the fathers met in synod at cambridge in , there was a liquor bill in connection with the expense of the meeting. at the ordination of edwin jackson in woburn, , the town paid for six and one-half barrels of cider, gallons of wine, gallons of brandy, gallons of rum. in the south the clergy were addicted to horse racing, gambling, and drunken revels. one of them was for many years president of a jockey club. they encouraged among the people the celebration of the sacrament of baptism with music and dancing in which the clergymen took part, a custom which shows signs of returning in england. one fought a duel in a churchyard, another thrashed his vestry. one parson preached in his stocking feet, one in his study coat, and one ran a distillery. many of them were appointed by the british government and by the bishop of london and they were affected by the irreligious listlessness and low moral tone of the english church in the eighteenth century. alexander graydon tells us that in his early days any jockeying, fiddling, wine-bibbing clergyman not over-scrupulous about stealing sermons was currently known as "a maryland parson." the maryland clergy are said to have been more vicious than those of virginia. they raced horses, hunted foxes, drank, gambled, joined in every amusement of the planters and would extort marriage fees from the poor by breaking off in the middle of the service and refusing to go on until paid. one dr. beatty was acting as chaplain to an army of five hundred men led by franklin to defend the frontier against the french and indians after the burning of the moravian mission at gnadenhutten, pennsylvania. "dr. beatty complained to me," says franklin, "that the men did not generally attend his prayers and exhortations. when they were enlisted, they were promised, besides hay and provisions, a gill of rum a day, which was punctually served out to them, half in the morning, and the other half in the evening; and i observed they were as punctual in attending to receiving it; upon which i said to mr. beatty, 'it is perhaps below the dignity of your profession to act as steward of the rum, but if you were to deal it out, and only just after prayers you would have them all about you.'" the shrewd suggestion was adopted by dr. beatty, and the philosophic franklin says "never were prayers more generally and punctually attended; so that i thought this method preferable to the punishment inflicted by some military laws for non-attendance at divine service." this chapter may well be concluded with the famous and oft quoted letter of cotton mather to john higginson: "september ye , . "to ye aged and beloved mr. john higginson: "there is now at sea a ship called the welcome, which has on board an hundred or more of the heretics and malignants called quakers, with w. penn, who is the chief scamp, at the head of them. "the general court has accordingly given secret orders to master malachi huscott, of the brig porpoise, to waylay the said welcome, slyly, as near the cape of cod as may be, and make captive the said penn and his ungodly crew, so that the lord may be glorified, and not mocked on the soil of this new country with the heathen worship of these people. much spoil can be made by selling the whole lot to barbadoes, where slaves fetch good prices in rum and sugar, and we shall not only do the lord great service by punishing the wicked, but we shall make great good for his minister and people. "master huscott feels hopeful, and i will set down the news when the ship comes back. "yours in ye bowels of christ, "cotton mather." chapter vi _relation of george washington to the liquor traffic_ in approaching the study of the character of washington a writer should always remember the veneration in which his memory is justly held among americans. the reader should remember that public sentiment was then at a very low ebb with regard to the liquor traffic and neither the drinker nor seller was discredited by his neighbors as he is today. the use of liquor played an important part in the life of a virginia planter a century and a half ago. at all the cross-roads and court-houses there sprang up taverns or ordinaries, and in these the men of a neighborhood would gather and over a bowl of punch or a bottle of wine, the expense of which they clubbed to share, would spend their evenings. into this life washington eagerly entered. as a mere lad his ledger records expenditures: "by a club in arrack at mr. gordon's / ; club of a bottle of rhenish at mitchel's / ; to part of the club at port royal /; to cash in part for a bowl of fruit punch / - / ." when governor dinwiddie sent washington in with a letter to m. de st. pierre, the french commander, to remonstrate against the erection of french forts, one of the incidents of his journey was a complimentary visit to the indian queen, aliquippa, who resided at the confluence of the monongahela and youghiogany rivers, in the southeastern part of alleghany county, pennsylvania. she had complained of his neglect in not calling upon her when on his outward journey. young washington explained the circumstances that prevented him, and with an apology he gave her a coat and a bottle of rum. the latter, washington wrote, "was thought the much better present of the two," and harmony of feeling was restored. aliquippa, who was a woman of great energy and had performed some brave deeds, was held in deep respect, amounting almost to reverence, by the indians in western pennsylvania. in washington shipped an unruly negro to the west indies and wrote the captain of the vessel as follows: "with this letter comes a negro (tom) which i beg the favor of you to sell in any of the islands you may go to, for whatever he will fetch, and bring me in return for him one hhd of best molasses one ditto of best rum one barrel of lymes, if good and cheap one pot of tamarinds, containing about lbs. two small ditto of mixed sweetmeats, about lbs each. and the residue, much or little in good old spirits." shortly before this time washington was a candidate for the legislature. there was then a virginia statute forbidding treating the voters, or bribery at elections, and declaring illegal all elections thus obtained, yet the following is the bill of the liquors washington furnished the voters of frederick: gallons of rum punch a / per galn. . gallons of wine a per galn. . dinner for your friends . / gallons of wine a / . gallons of beer a / - / qts cider royal a / . - punch - galls strong beer a d. per gall. - gall. best barbadoes rum / . lbs. s fefd. sugar / . - galls & qts of beer /per gall. - bowls of punch / each . half pints of rum - / d. each - - pint of wine - after the election was over, washington wrote wood that "i hope no exception was taken to any that voted against me, but that all were alike treated, and all had enough. my only fear is that you spent with too sparing a hand." it is hardly necessary to say that such methods reversed the former election: washington secured three hundred and ten votes, and swearington received forty-five. from this time until he took command of the army washington was a burgess. once again he was elected from frederick county, and then, in , he stood for fairfax, in which mount vernon was located. here he received votes, his colleague getting , and in the election of he received , and his colleague only . washington spent between £ and £ at each of these elections, and usually gave a ball to the voters on the night he was chosen. some of the miscellaneous election expenses noted in his ledger are: galls of strong beer dro. of ale £ . . . to mr. john muir for his fiddler, for cakes at the election £ . . . bushrod washington, made a real estate investment that did not suit his uncle, and washington wrote him as follows: "now let me ask you what your views were in purchasing a lott in a place which, i presume, originated with and will end in two or three gin shops, which probably will exist no longer than they serve to ruin the proprietors, and those who make the most frequent applications to them." he expressed an adverse opinion of the liquor business at one time, somewhat in the same line, in a contract he made with a plantation overseer: "and whereas, there are a number of whiskey stills very contiguous to the said plantations, and many idle, drunken and dissolute people continually resorting to the same, priding themselves in debauching sober and well-inclined persons, the said edd violet doth promise as well for his own sake as his employers to avoid them as he ought." to the contrary, in hiring a gardener it was agreed as part of the compensation that the man should have "four dollars at christmas with which he may be drunk for four days and nights; two dollars at easter to effect the same purpose; two dollars at whitsuntide to be drunk for two days; a dram in the morning, and a drink of grog at dinner at noon." at valley forge he complained to congress of the mortifications they (even the general officers) must suffer, when they cannot invite a french officer, a visiting friend, or a traveling acquaintance, to a better repast than stinking whiskey (and not always that) and a bit of beef without vegetables. in the new york state library at albany is a statement in washington's handwriting of his household expenses for three months at the beginning of his first term as president, from may to august , ; the total expense for that time was £ and shillings, of which the following items were for liquor: pounds shillings pence madeira claret champaign van de graves cherry arack spirits brandy cordials porter beer cider in the same library is a memorandum of washington's opinion of his general officers, prepared in the winter of - . from this it seems that he considered the drinking habit of his subordinates, even at that time, in appointing a successor to general arthur st. clair, who had just then been defeated by the indians: "majr general (by brevet) wayne. "more active and enterprising than judicious no economist it is feared--open to flattery--vain--easily imposed upon and liable to be drawn into scrapes. too indulgent [the effect perhaps of some of the causes just mentioned] to his officers and men. whether sober--or a little addicted to the bottle, i know not. "majr general (by brevet) weedon. "not supposed to be an officer of much resource, though not deficient of a competent share of understanding--rather addicted to ease and pleasure, and no enemy it is said to the bottle--never has had his name brot forward on this account. "major general (by brevet) hand. "a sensible and judicious man, his integrity unimpeached, and was esteemed a pretty good officer. but if i recollect rightly not a very active one. he has never been charged with intemperance to my knowledge. his name has rarely been mentioned under the present difficulty of choosing an officer to command, but this may, in a great measure be owing to his being at a distance. "majr general (by brevet) scott. "brave and means well; but is an officer of inadequate abilities for extreme command, and by report is addicted to drinking." in , when the united states passed an excise law, distilling became particularly profitable, and a still was set up on his plantation. in this whiskey was made from "rye" chiefly, and indian corn in a certain proportion, and this not merely used much of the estate's product of those two grains, but quantities were purchased from elsewhere. in the profit from the distillery was three hundred and forty-four pounds, twelve shillings, and seven and three-quarter pence, with a stock carried over of seven hundred and fifty-five and one-quarter gallons; but this was the most successful year. cider, too, was made in large quantities. washington resigned his command december , , and went back to his estate, which had suffered from his eight years' absence. to his friends he offered unpretentious hospitality. "my manner of living is plain," he said, "a glass of wine and a bit of mutton are always ready and such as will be content to partake of them are always welcome." at washington's official dinners ordinarily a boiled leg of mutton was served, followed by a glass of wine. the silver service was massive, being valued at $ , , but the menu was very simple. on a great occasion it included soup, fish roasted and boiled, meats, fowls, and so on, and for dessert, apple pies, puddings, ice cream, jelly, and fruit. after the cloth had been removed the president filled his glass and drank the health by name of each one present. samuel stearns, who was a frequent visitor to mount vernon, thus described the habits of washington: "he is very regular, temperate and industrious; rises in winter and summer at the dawn of day; generally reads or writes some time before breakfast; breakfasts about seven o'clock on three small indian hoe cakes, and as many dishes of tea, and often rides immediately to his different farms, and remains with his laborers until a little after two o'clock, then returns and dresses. at three he dines, commonly on a single dish, and drinks from half a pint to a pint of madeira wine. this with one small glass of punch, a draught of beer, and two dishes of tea (which he takes half an hour before the setting of the sun) constitutes his whole sustenance until the next day. but his table is always furnished with elegance and exuberance; and whether he has company or not, he remains at the table an hour in familiar conversation, then every one is called upon to give some absent friend a toast. after he has dined, he applies himself to business, and about nine retires to rest; but when he has company he attends politely upon them till they wish to withdraw." _relation of other prominent americans to the liquor traffic_ among the early prominent american characters the total abstainer was a rare article, and the prohibitionist almost unknown. governor john winthrop was probably a total abstainer, and the romantic character of john smith seems quite clear from the drinking habits of the period. "never was warrior known," says an old writer, "from debts and dice and oaths so free," and his own words as to the object of life show a loftiness of purpose almost unknown among his contemporaries, and should be preserved for the example they furnish to posterity. "seeing we are not born for ourselves but each to help the other, and our abilities are much alike at the hour of our birth and the minute of our death; seeing our good deeds and our bad by faith in christ's merits is all we have to carry our souls to heaven or hell; seeing honor is our lives' ambition and our ambition after death to have an honorable memory of our life; and seeing by no means we would be abated of the dignities and glories of our predecessors let us imitate their virtues so as to be worthily their successors." so wrote the man of whom old thomas fuller said, "he had a prince's heart in a beggar's purse," and to whom one of his comrades, a survivor of the starving time, paid this touching tribute: "thus we lost him that in all our proceedings made justice his first guide--ever hating baseness, sloth, pride and indignity more than any dangers; that never allowed himself more than his soldiers with him; that upon no occasion would he send them where he would not go himself; that would never see us want what he either had or could by any means get us; that would rather want than borrow or starve than not pay; that loved actions more than words and hated falsehood and covetousness worse than death; whose adventures were our lives and whose loss our deaths." but these are two of the few oases in the dreary desert of early american drunkenness. most prominent men of the time drank to excess. the early colonial grandees furnish a number of quaint pictures. governor william cosby, of new york, was admitted to the humdrum club on january , , over many bowls of punch made from peculiar and valuable receipts, known only to the members of the club, which was potent in its effects even over a well seasoned veteran like the late governor of minorca. sir danvers osborne, another governor, committed suicide. the colony of new york had been treated to a variety of rulers since the english had taken possession of the dutch colony. they were endowed with every vice known. they were fortunately spared the dominion of a madman who succeeded a dipsomaniac in the chief office of the province. governor clinton immured himself in the fort and spent his time with his bottle and a little trifling circle who lived on his bounty. governor hunter was a man of violent passion. after he had had one of his fits an indian said to an officer, "the governor is drunk." "no," said the officer, "he never drinks any strong liquor." the brave replied, "i do not mean he is drunk with rum, he was born drunk." in , in the midst of the rejoicings, the news came that the queen, the second wife of james, had been blessed with a son, who became heir to the throne. the event was celebrated the same evening by bonfires in the streets and a feast at the city hall. at the latter, mayor van courtlandt became so hilarious, that he made a burnt sacrifice to his loyalty of his hat and periwig, waving the burning victims over the banquet table on the point of his straight sword. and when, in march, , governor sloughter arrived, and leisler sent him a letter loyally tendering to him the fort and province, that functionary, under the influence of the aristocratic leaders, answered it by sending an officer to arrest the "usurper" and milborne and six of the "inferior insurgents" on a charge of high treason. they were taken to prison, and when they were arraigned, the two principal offenders, denying the authority of the court, refused to plead, and appealed to the king. they were condemned and sentenced to death, but sloughter, who in his sober moments was just and honest, refused to sign the death warrant until he should hear from the king. the implacable enemies of the "usurper," determined on causing his destruction, invited the governor to a dinner party on staten island on a bright day in may. one of them carried to the banquet a legally drawn death warrant, and when the governor had been made stupid with liquor, he was induced to sign the fatal paper. it was sent to the city that evening, and on the following morning leisler and milborne were summoned to prepare for execution. leisler sent for his wife, alice, and their older children, and after a sorrowful parting with them, he and his son-in-law were led to the gallows in a drenching rain. they confessed their errors of judgment but denied all intentional wrongdoing. the blamelessness of their lives confirmed their declarations of innocence. before sloughter was permitted to recover from his debauch, they were hanged. it was foul murder. the governor was tortured with remorse for his act, and died of delirium tremens three months afterward. when william penn, in , drew up his code of laws for pennsylvania he made the drinking of healths and the selling of liquor to indians crimes. his opinion as to drinking healths must have changed between and when dean swift met penn and passed a lively evening. he writes stella, "we sat two hours drinking as good wine as you do," and it is the strongest proof of penn's lovableness that after drinking good wine with him for two hours that night, swift the next morning has no word of dispraise for his companion. one of the oddest characters in early virginia history was dr. john pott, who was at one time governor of virginia, and is described as a master of arts, well practiced in chirurgery and physic and expert also in distilling waters, besides many other ingenious devices. it seems he was also very fond of tasting distilled waters, and at times was more of a boon companion than quite comported with his dignity, especially after he had come to be governor. a letter of george sandys says of dr. pott: "at first he kept too much company with his inferiors who hung upon him while his good liquor lasted." after harvey's arrival ex-governor pott was held to answer two charges. one was for having abused the power entrusted to him by pardoning a culprit who had been convicted of wilful murder, the other was for stealing cattle. the first charge was a common notoriety; on the second doctor pott was tried by a jury and found guilty. the ex-governor was not a pardoner of felony but was a felon himself. the affair reads like a scene in comic opera. some reluctance was felt about inflicting vulgar punishment upon an educated man of good social position, so he was not sent to jail but confined in his own house, while sir john harvey wrote to the king for instructions in the matter. he informed the king that doctor pott was by far the best physician in the colony and indeed the only one skilled in epidemics and recommended that he should be pardoned. accordingly the doctor was set free and forthwith resumed his practice. no one was better disposed toward a moderate conviviality than franklin himself. in that old house on high street where he lived and died there remains now in the possession of the pennsylvania historical society that delightful punch-keg which rolled so easily from guest to guest, and which carried the generous liquor generously around franklin's board. a curious little keg this, pretty, portly, and altogether unlike other punch-bowls left us from colonial days. among the china was a fine large jug for beer, to stand in the cooler. franklin's wife was frugal, and it pleased him to set aside her customary frugality on the blithesome occasions when the punch-keg went rolling round. in , when the advent of the new governor made necessary the election of a new house of burgesses, jefferson already craved the opportunity to take an active part in affairs, and at once offered himself as a candidate for albemarle county. he kept open house, distributed limitless punch, stood by the polls politely bowing to every voter who named him according to the virginia fashion of the day, and had the good fortune, by these meritorious efforts, to win success. in jefferson very nearly sympathized with the whiskey rebellion. he called the excise law an infernal one. in his gloomy views of the war of he asks what virginia can raise, and answers his question thus: "tobacco? it is not worth the pipe it is smoked in. some say whiskey, but all mankind must become drunkards to consume it." while chastellux, in his travels, tells of discussing a bowl of punch with jefferson at monticello, jefferson never seems to have drunk ardent spirits or strong wine, and in his last illness his physician could not induce him to take brandy strong enough to benefit him. while hamilton favored the whiskey tax and caused the whiskey rebellion thereby, he nevertheless was in favor of temperance, as is shown by the circulars he issued to the army. in his early youth andrew jackson was gay, careless, rollicking, fond of drinking, horse-racing, cock-fighting, and all kinds of mischief; his habits moderated in later years and in his old age jackson became religious. the son of dolly madison by her first marriage, payne todd, was a continual financial burden to her even after the death of president madison, and by his dissipation broke his mother's heart, embittered her old age, and ruined her financially as if to show that even the wife of the president was not exempt from the burdens of any mother of a drunkard. when tyler became president he lived precisely as he had done on his virginia plantation. he invariably invited visitors to visit the family dining-room, and "take something," from a sideboard well garnished with decanters of ardent spirits and wine, with a bowl of juleps in the summer, and of eggnog in the winter. one of the most picturesque figures of this period was general sam houston, who was a prominent figure at washington during the taylor administration. because of trouble with his wife he resigned the governorship of tennessee, went into the cherokee country, adopted the indian costume and became an indian trader and so dissipated that his indian name was "big-drunk." he wore a waistcoat made from the skin of a panther dressed with the hair on, and was conspicuous in the senate for whittling soft pine sticks, which were provided him by the seargeant-at-arms. he was the best customer supplied from his own whiskey barrel, until one day after a prolonged debauch he heard that the mexicans had taken up arms against their revolted province. he cast off his indian attire, dressed like a white man, and never touched a drop of any intoxicating beverage afterwards. chapter vii _the slave trade_ in no branch of history is the culpability of the liquor traffic more thoroughly shown than in its relation to the slave trade. the making of rum aided and almost supported the slave trade in this country. the poor negroes were bought on the coast of africa by new england sea captains and paid for with barrels of new england rum. these slaves were then carried on slave ships to the west indies and sold at a large profit to planters and slave dealers for a cargo of molasses. this was brought to new england, distilled into rum, and sent off to africa; thus the circle of molasses, slaves, and rum was completed. in the west indies afforded the great demand for negroes; they also furnished the raw material supplying the manufacture of the main merchandise which the thirsty gold coast drank up in barter for its poor, banished children. governor hopkins stated that for more than thirty years prior to rhode island sent to the coast annually eighteen vessels carrying , hogsheads of rum. it displaced french brandies in the trade of the coast after . the commerce in rum and slaves afforded about £ , per annum for remittance from rhode island to great britain. molasses and poor sugar, distilled in boston and more especially in newport into rum, made the staple export to africa. some obtained gallon for gallon of molasses, but the average was to . newport had twenty-two still houses. boston had the best example, owned by a mr. childs. the cost of distilling was five and a half pence per gallon. cisterns and vats cost fourteen to sixteen shillings per one hundred gallons, in , not including lumber. the quantity of rum distilled was enormous, and in it was estimated that massachusetts alone consumed more than , hogsheads of molasses for this purpose. the average price of molasses in the west indies was thirteen or fourteen pence per gallon. the consumption of rum in the fisheries and lumbering and ship-building districts was large. there was no article of merchandise comparable to rum on the african coast. our forefathers' instincts were neither moral nor immoral; they were simply economic. they had tried dry-goods, and africa rejected them in favor of the wet. captain george scott writes lamenting the purchasing of dry-goods and says, "had we laid out two thousand pounds in rum, bread and flour, it would purchase more in value than all our dry-goods." the cargo of the caesar, out-bound, was: eighty-two barrels, six hogsheads and six tierces of new england rum; thirty-three barrels of best jamaica spirits; thirty-three barrels of barbadoes rum; twenty-five pairs of pistols; two casks of musket-balls; one chest of hand arms; twenty-five cutlasses. the return cargo was: in the hold on board the scow caesar, one hundred and fifty-three adult slaves, and two children. the ships were light of draught and built for speed. the captain and the crew were men little troubled with scruples touching the work they had to do. once off the coast of mozambique or guinea, the cargo was rapidly made up. if a band of blacks, moved by curiosity, came round the vessel in a skiff, they were sure to be lured on board, ironed, and hurried into the hold. if a boat's crew went on shore, they came back dragging some wretched man between them. for rum the native princes gladly sold prisoners that their subjects made in war. when every available inch of space had been filled, the slaver turned westward and made for some southern port. the coast line had scarcely disappeared from view when the hatches were taken off and the terrors of the voyage began. every fine day at sunrise the slaves were driven on deck. such as were noisy had the thumb-screws put on. such as were hard to manage were chained in pairs by the arms, or the ankles, or the necks. at the first sign of insurrection the leaders were shot down and cast into the sea. their food was salt pork and beans. their sole exercise was dancing and capering about the deck. this they were made to do. if any refused the cat-o'-nine-tails or the rope's end was vigorously applied. when the sun set the whole band went below. the transactions of one of these slavers are preserved in the history of new bedford and make interesting reading for those who would hold up the puritan as innocent of the transgression which stains the character of the cavalier. dr. the natives of annamboe. apr. . to one hhds. of rum may . " " " " " " . " " " " " " . " " " " " cr. per contra. apr. . by one woman slave may . " " prime woman slave " . " " boy slave ft. in. " . " " " " ft. in. _the southern planter_ liquor and slavery combined produced the southern planter, whose life has often been described by various writers. when yeardley assumed control of affairs in virginia, the company required that there should be inserted in all formal grants of land a covenant that the patentees should not apply themselves either wholly or principally to the culture of tobacco, but should divide their attentions among a number of commodities carefully specified in each deed. these consisted of indian corn, wheat, flax, silk-grass, and wine. parton, in his _life of jefferson_, says that the virginia planter expended the proceeds of his tobacco in vast ugly mansions, heavy furniture, costly apparel, madeira wines, fine horses, and slaves. another writer says: "the gentleman of fortune rises about nine o'clock. he may perhaps make an excursion to his stables to see his horses, which is seldom more than fifty yards from his house; he returns to breakfast between nine and ten, which is generally tea or coffee, bread and butter and very thin slices of venison, ham, or hung beef. he then lies down on a pallet on the floor in the coolest room in the house in his shirt and trousers only, with a negro at his head and another at his feet to fan him and keep off the flies; between twelve and one he takes a bombo or toddy, a liquor compounded of water, sugar, rum, and nutmeg, which is made weak and kept cool; he dines between two and three, and at every meal, whatever else there may be, a ham and greens or cabbage is always a standing dish. at dinner he drinks cider, toddy, punch, port, claret, and madeira, which is generally excellent here; having drank some few glasses of wine after dinner he returns to his pallet, with his two blacks to fan him, and continues to drink toddy or sangaree all the afternoon. between nine and ten in the evening he eats a light supper of milk, fruit, etc., and almost invariably retires to bed for the night. this is his general way of living in his family when he has no company. no doubt many differ from it, some in one respect and some in another, but more follow it than do not. pewter cups and mugs were everywhere to be seen and now and then a drinking horn. there were in the house for the purposes of drinking a variety of receptacles, such as the tumbler, the mug, the cup, the flagon, the tankard, and the beaker. the cups were known by a number of names, such as the lignum vitæ, the syllabub, the sack, and the dram. many planters in moderate circumstances were in possession of a quantity of silver plate." macmasters says of the southern planter: "numerous slaves and white servants attended them in every capacity that use or ostentation could suggest. on their tables were to be found the luxuries of the old world and the new, and chief among these stood madeira and rum. that the men of that generation drank more deeply than the men of this is not to be doubted." another writer says: "the maryland gentry ordered champagne from europe by the cask and madeira by the pipe and dressed in the latest fashion." betting and gambling were with drunkenness and a passion for duelling and running in debt the chief sins of the south carolina gentleman. _the indian tribes_ when gladwyn wrote to amherst, "if your excellency still intends to punish the indians farther for their barbarities it may easily be done without any expense to the crown by permitting a free sale of rum which will destroy them more effectually than fire and sword," he indicated the policy toward the indian tribes which has been steadily pursued by all civilized nations on the american continent except the french. irving, in his _knickerbocker's history of new york_, has stated the truth on this, as he often does on other matters: "our benevolent forefathers endeavored as much as possible to ameliorate their situation by giving them gin, wine and glass beads in exchange for their peltries, for it seemed the kind-hearted dutchmen had conceived a great friendship for their savage neighbors; on account of their being pleasant men to trade with, and little skilled in the art of making a bargain." there is extant a letter of ebenezer hazard to silas deane of date february , , in which hazard says: "i am told the committee appointed by the house to state the grievances of this colony, though mostly tories, have included all those complained of by congress and mentioned some new ones, particularly the destruction of the indian trade by the quebec duty act. you know that trade cannot be carried on without rum. by the quebec duty act no rum may be sold in the province but what is entered and the duty paid at quebec or on lake champlain. the virginians, etc., cannot afford to carry their rum to these places to be entered, and consequently can have no trade. this i am very credibly informed is one of the grievances they have enumerated." there were but few storekeepers in virginia in early days who were not engaged in the indian trade. guns, ammunition, rum, blankets, knives, and hatchets were the articles in greatest demand among the tribes. when in the ordinary course of events a young american in virginia or elsewhere felt himself impelled to leave the paternal roof he put aside his gun and fishing rod, and asked of his father some money, a slave, and a canoe. his brow grew thoughtful, and he adopted a pipe. with his money he purchased beads, trinkets, blankets, guns, powder, not forgetting for various reasons a supply of rum. with these he purposed laying the foundation of his fortunes as an indian trader. if the trader had several servants with him or was associated with other traders he would fix his quarters in some large indian town and send his subordinates to the surrounding villages, with a suitable supply of blankets, guns, hatchets, liquor, tobacco, etc. this wild traffic was liable to every species of disorder, a fruitful source of broils, robberies, and murders. the fur traders were a class of men held in contempt among the iroquois and known among them by the significant title of rum carriers. the white trappers seem to have been as dissipated as the indians. one writer declares that most of the canadians drink so much brandy in the morning that they are unfit for work all day. another says that when a canoe man is tired he will lift a keg of brandy to his lips and drink the raw liquor from the bung-hole, after which, having spoiled his appetite, he goes to bed supperless, so with drink and hardship he is an old man at forty. the type of french trapper left in the old northwest may still be seen far north in the great fur land; he is idle, devoted to singing, dancing, gossip, and drinking to intoxication; having vanity as his besetting sin. the jesuits denounced the traffic. their case was a strong one, but so was the case of their opponents. there was a real and imminent danger that the thirsty savages, if refused brandy by the french, would seek it from the dutch and english of new york. it was the most potent lure and the most killing bait. wherever it was found, there the indians and their beaver skins were sure to go, and the interests of the fur trade, vital to the colony, were bound to go with it. cadillac was especially incensed against the jesuits on account of their opposition to the sale of spirits. so strong was their hostility that louis xiv, in , referred to the sorbonne for decision the question of allowing french brandy to be shipped to michilimackinac. the decision of the council gave to the northwest its first prohibitory law; and the commandant was not more willing to enforce the order than his successors have been to carry out similar laws. "a drink of brandy after the repast," he maintained, "seems necessary to cook the bilious meats and the crudities which they leave in the stomach." again, at detroit, cadillac quotes from a sermon by father carhail, whose wing he was engaged in plucking. the jesuit had maintained that there was "no power, either human or divine, which can permit the sale of this drink." hence, you perceive, argues the crafty commandant, "that this father passes boldly on all matters of state, and will not even submit to the decision of the pope." the question was indeed a hard one for cadillac. he understood clearly that unless he had liquor to sell to the savages he might as well abandon his post; for the indians would go straight to the english at albany where goods were cheap and rum was unlimited. to give up detroit never entered cadillac's plan. he therefore chose the middle course. instead of prohibition he would have high license. in the restrictions which he threw about the traffic in liquors he was both honest and earnest; and, as events proved, he was far in advance of his times. in the report of m. d'aigrement, who inspected detroit in , it is mentioned as one of the grievances of the savages against cadillac that "in order to prevent disturbances which would arise from the excessive use of brandy, he caused it all to be put into the store-house and sold it at the rate of twenty francs a quart. those who will have brandy, french as well as indians, are obliged to go to the store-house to drink, and each can obtain at one time only the twenty-fourth part of a quart. it is certain that the savages cannot become intoxicated on that quantity. the price is high, and as they cannot get brandy only each in his turn, it sometimes happens that the savages are obliged to return home without a taste of this beverage, and they seem ready to kill themselves with disappointment. though the jesuits refused absolution to all who sold brandy to the indians, they sold it themselves. lasalle had detected them in it." count frontenac declares that "the jesuits greatly exaggerate the disorders caused by brandy and they easily convince persons who do not know the interested motives which have led them to harp continually on this string for more than forty years.... they have long wished to have the fur trade entirely to themselves." appeal was made to the king, who with his jesuit confessor, guardian of his conscience, on the one side, and colbert, guardian of his worldly interests, on the other, stood in some perplexity. the case was referred to the fathers of the sorbonne and they pronounced the selling of brandy to the indians a mortal sin. it was next referred to the chief merchants and inhabitants of canada. each was directed to write his views. the great majority were for unrestricted trade in brandy, a few for limited and guarded trade, and two or three declared for prohibition. decrees of prohibition were passed from time to time, but they were unavailing. the king was never at heart a prohibitionist. his canadian revenue was drawn from the fur trade, and the singular argument of the partisans of brandy, that its attractions were needed to keep the indians from contact with heresy, served admirably to salve his conscience. the dutch and english being the heretics, he distrusted the bishop of quebec, the great champion of the anti-liquor movement. he wrote to saint vallier, laval's successor in the bishopric, that the brandy trade was very useful to the kingdom of france, that it should be regulated, not prevented, that consciences must not be disturbed by denunciations of it as a sin, that the zeal of the ecclesiastics might be affected by personal interests and passions. from the time, in , when samoset and tisquantum brought massasoit to plymouth to drink strong waters with the puritans, liquor played a steady part in all negotiations between the white men and the red men. when hamor went to visit powhattan he was received with royal courtesy, "bread was brought in in two great wooden bowls, the quantity of a bushel of sod bread, made up round, of the bygnesse of a tenise-ball, whereof we ate some few." after this repast hamor and his comrades were regaled with "a great glasse of sacke" and then ushered into the wigwam for the night. from this time on at all indian negotiations a large percentage of the indians expected rum or whiskey to be produced. no other cause has been as prolific of indian wars as the liquor traffic. the war of the indians with the dutch in in new york was caused by the sale of liquor and firearms to the indians, as well as all the trouble that the dutch ever seem to have had with their indian neighbors. liquor entered largely as a consideration into the purchase of land from the indians, and the dispute over title and inadequate amounts frequently caused trouble. in robert livingston purchased a tract of land on the east side of hudson river, near catskill, which was paid for in guilders, blankets, shirts, cloth, tin kettles, powder, guns, twenty little looking-glasses, fish hooks, awls, nails, tobacco, knives, strong beer, four stroud coats, two duffel coats, four tin kettles, rum and pipes, ten pairs large stockings, ten pairs small stockings, adzes, paint, bottles, and scissors. the treaty with the creek indians was signed on october , , when the governor distributed the following presents among the indians: a laced coat and a laced hat and shirt to each of the chiefs; to each of the warriors, a gun and a mantle of duffils (a coarse woolen cloth with nap and fringe), and to all their attendants coarse cloth for clothing; a barrel of gunpowder; four kegs of bullets; a piece of broadcloth; a piece of irish linen; a cask of tobacco pipes; eight belts and cutlasses with gilt handles; tape, and of all colors; eight kegs of rum to be carried home to their towns; one pound of powder, one pound of bullets, and as much provision for each one as they pleased to take for their journey home. in the spring of the directors of the connecticut land company sent out surveyors through the mohawk, over the portage of wood creek, oneida lake, and the oswego river to lake ontario. at buffalo the agent bought of the indians their remaining claim to the lands east of the cuyahoga river for five hundred pounds, new york currency, two beef cattle, and one hundred gallons of whiskey. the murder in without provocation of the family of logan, a friendly chief of the cayuga nation and of great influence, jefferson shows was due to the drunkenness of two traders, greathouse and tomlinson, and caused logan to deliver the speech which is often given in school readers. the seminole war had the combined causes of slavery and liquor. president jackson gave slave traders permission to buy slaves of the seminole indians. the trader, knowing that the indians were intoxicated, would induce them to give bills of sale for negroes they did not own, and the complications thus caused led to the seminole war. the black hawk war was directly caused by the liquor traffic, while the career of pontiac, the ablest indian statesman his race ever produced, illustrates that drunkenness was the bane of the indian race. in the same speech in which pontiac said, "our people love liquor and if we dwelt near your old village of detroit, our warriors would be always drunk," he concluded his harangue with the desire that the rum barrel might be opened and his warriors allowed to quench their thirst. his life was ended by an english trader named williamson, who bribed a strolling indian of the kaskia tribe by a barrel of rum to murder him, and for that reward the savage stole softly behind pontiac while he was meditating in the forest and buried his hatchet in his brain. of the influence of the white man on the indians the less said the better. they eradicated none of his vices and they lent him many of their own. they found him abstinent, and they made him a guzzler of fire water. they found him hospitable, and they made him suspicious and vindictive. they found him in freedom, the owner of a great country: they robbed him of the one, and crowded him out of the other. the dutch were too much beer drinkers, became with speed rum consumers, and opposed prohibiting the sale of rum to the indians. william penn wrote in : "ye dutch, sweed and english have by brandy and specially rum almost debauched ye indians all." on arriving at a trading post an indian hunting party would trade perhaps a third of their peltries for fine clothes, ammunition, paint, tobacco, and like articles. then a keg of brandy would be purchased and the council held to decide who was to get drunk and who was to stay sober. all arms and clubs were taken away and hidden and the orgie would begin, all the indians in the neighborhood being called in. it was the task of those who kept sober to prevent the drunken ones from killing one another, a task always hazardous and frequently unsuccessful, sometimes as many as five being killed in one night. when the keg was empty brandy was brought by the kettle full and ladled out with large wooden spoons, and this was kept up until the last skin was disposed of. then, dejected, wounded, lamed, with their fine new shirts torn, their blankets burned, and nothing but the ammunition and tobacco saved, they would start off down the river to hunt, and begin again the same round of alternating toil and drudgery. nevertheless, with all their rage for brandy they sometimes showed a self control quite admirable in its way. when at a fair, a council, or a friendly visit their entertainers regaled them with rations of the coveted liquor, so prudently measured out that they could not be the worse for it, they would unite their several portions in a common stock, which they would then divide among a few of their number, thus enabling them to attain that complete intoxication which, in their view, was the true end of all drinking. the objects of this benevolence were expected to requite it on a similar future occasion. in , of the sixty-three settlers at detroit, thirty-four were traders, and the only profitable articles of trade were ammunition and brandy, the english being able to undersell the french in all other commodities. at the time of the sales of furs every house in montreal was a drinking shop. in a letter of governor halderman to captain lernoult, dated july , , halderman says: "i observe with great concern the astonishing consumption of rum at detroit, amounting to seventeen thousand five hundred and twenty gallons a year." in his notes on virginia, jefferson states that the census of showed that the indians of virginia in sixty-two years decreased about one-third, which decrease jefferson attributes to spirituous liquors and the smallpox. when president, jefferson recommended that the sale among the indian tribes of intoxicating liquors be prohibited. of the traffic and its effect on the indians a large amount of practically unanimous evidence can be produced. leclercq observes with truth and candor that an indian would be baptized ten times a day for a pint of brandy or a pound of tobacco. father etienne carheil says: "our missions are reduced to such an extremity that we can no longer maintain them against the infinity of disorder, brutality, violence, injustice, impiety, impurity, insolence, scorn, and insult which the deplorable and infamous traffic in brandy has spread universally among the indians of these parts. in the despair in which we are plunged, nothing remains for us but to abandon them to the brandy sellers as a domain of drunkenness and debauchery." on one occasion the french denonville lectured dongon, the english governor, for allowing west india rum to be sent to the long house. "think you that religion will make any progress while your traders supply the savages in abundance with the liquor, which as you ought to know converts them into demons, and their wigwams into counterparts of hell." one seems to see the irishman's tongue curl under his cheek as he replies: "methinks our rum does as little hurt as your brandy, and in the opinion of christians is much more wholesome." _politics and elections_ the presidential campaign of surpassed in excitement and intensity of feeling all which had preceded it. delegations to the whig conventions carried banners and often had a small log cabin mounted on wheels in which was a barrel of hard cider, the beverage of the campaign. early in harrison's campaign comments were made on the elegant style of living in the white house during van buren's administration. van buren was charged with being an aristocrat and a monarchist while the masses toiled and suffered to pay for his luxurious living. a richmond newspaper observed derisively of harrison, "give him a barrel of hard cider and a pension of two thousand dollars and our word for it he will sit for the remainder of his days contented in a log cabin." log cabins and hard cider thus became the symbols of a popular crusade. the log cabins were decked in frontier style with coonskins, bunches of corn, strings of peppers and dried apples and the like, and were set up in cities and villages. inside these cabins copious supplies of cider were on tap to be drunk with gourds. the appropriateness of the symbol came from the fact that harrison had formerly resided in a western log cabin, and the cider was meant to typify western hospitality. the result was that young and old drank the cider freely and the whig meetings often degenerated into mere drunken carousals, the example of which was especially injurious to the rising generation. there are men still alive who claim that a single glass of wine drunk by herschel v. johnson was responsible for the wreck of the democratic party in by unfitting him to reply to the speech of howell cobb in favor of separate democratic nominations at the georgia democratic state convention. the count de paris says of the vigilance committees that terrorized the south into secession: "the bar-room was generally the place of their meetings. around the counter on which gin and whiskey circulated freely a few frantic individuals pronounced judgment upon their fellow citizens, whether present or absent." in one of the lincoln-douglas joint debates douglas described his own father as an excellent cooper. lincoln said he did not doubt the truth of the statement for he knew of one very good whisky cask he had made. as douglas was short and thick-set and a heavy drinker the joke was enjoyed. on another occasion, douglas said that when he first knew lincoln, lincoln was a good bar-tender. lincoln in admitting that he had sold whisky said douglas was one of his best customers, adding that he had left his side of the counter but douglas had stuck to the other side. _early defiance of law_ in the last decade of the eighteenth century the whiskey rebellion arose from the refusal of the scotch-irish whiskey distillers of pennsylvania to pay the excise on whiskey. if a collector came among them he was attacked, his books and papers taken, his commission torn up, and a solemn promise exacted that he would publish his resignation in the pittsburgh _gazette_. if a farmer gave information as to where the stills could be found, his barns were burned. if a distiller entered his stills as the law required, he was sure to be visited by a masked mob. sometimes his grist-mill was made useless, sometimes his stills destroyed, or a piece of his saw-mill carried away, and a command laid upon him to publish what had been done to him in the _gazette_. one unhappy man, who had rented his house to a collector, was visited at the dead of night by a mob of blackened and disguised men. he was seized, carried to the woods, shorn of his hair, tarred, feathered, and bound to a tree. they next formed associations of those who, in the language of the district, were ready to "forbear" entering their stills. they ended by working themselves into a fury and calling a meeting of distillers for the th of july, at restone, old fort, a town on which the inhabitants have since bestowed the humbler name of brownsville. from this gathering went out a call for two conventions. one was to meet on the d of august at washington, in pennsylvania. the date chosen for the meeting of the second was september th, and the place pittsburgh. both were held. that at washington denounced the law and called on all good people to treat every man taking office under it with contempt, and withhold from him all comfort, aid, and support. that at pittsburgh complained bitterly of the salaries of the federal officers, of the rate of interest on the national debt, of the funding system, of the bank, and of the tax on whiskey. meantime the collector for the counties of washington and alleghany was set upon. on the day before the pittsburgh meeting a party of armed men waylaid him at a lonely spot on pigeon creek, stripped, tarred, and feathered him, cut off his hair, and took away his horse. they were disguised, but he recognized three of the band, and swore out warrants against them in the district court at philadelphia. these were sent to the marshal; but the marshal was a prudent man, and gave them to his deputy, who, early in october, went down into alleghany to serve them. he hid his errand, and as he rode along, beheld such signs of the angry mood of the people, and heard such threats, that he came back with the writs in his pocket unserved. and now he determined to send them under cover of private letters, and selected for the bearer a poor, half-witted cow-driver. the messenger knew not what he bore; but when the people found out that he was delivering writs, he was seized, robbed of his horse and money, whipped till he could scarcely stand, tarred, feathered, blindfolded, and tied to a tree in the woods. in a process went out from the district court at philadelphia against seventy-five distillers who had disobeyed the law. fifty were in the five counties of fayette, bedford, alleghany, washington, and westmoreland. each writ was dated the th of may, and each was entered in the docket as issued on the st. but the officials were so tardy that it was july when the marshal rode west to serve them. he arrived in the hurry of harvest, when liquor circulated most freely and drunkenness was most prevalent. yet he served his writs without harm till but one was left. it was drawn against a distiller named miller, whose house was fourteen miles from pittsburgh, on the road to washington. on the morning of july th the marshal set out from pittsburgh to serve it. he found miller in a harvest field surrounded by a body of reapers. all went well till he was about to return, when one of them gave the alarm. while some threw down their scythes and followed him, others ran back to the house of the brigade inspector near by. there the mingo creek regiment had gathered to make a select corps of militia as its quota of the eighty thousand minute men required by congress. all had drunk deeply, and as the messengers came up shouting "the federal sheriff is taking away men to philadelphia," they flew to arms. though it was then night many set off at once, and gathering strength as they went, drew up the next morning, thirty-seven strong, before the house of revenue inspector neville, near pittsburgh. at the head of them was john holcroft who whitened half the trees in the four counties with the effusions of tom the tinker. the inspector demanded what they wished. they answered evasively. he fired upon them. they returned the shot, and were instantly opened on by a band of negroes posted in a neighboring house. at this the mob scattered, leaving six wounded and one dead. tom the tinker was a nom-de-guerre which originated from the house of an obnoxious official being pulled to pieces by a mob whose members gave out that they were "mending it." mending and tinkering being interchangeable terms, the members dubbed themselves "tinkers," and "tom the tinker was shortly evolved as the popular watchword of the first rebellion against the united states government." chapter viii _christenings--marriages--funerals_ in early american history the use of liquor by an infant seems to have been nearly coincident with its entrance into life. a family receipt called _caudle_ has been handed down through the family of mrs. johannes de peyster, and calls for "three gallons of water, seven pounds of sugar, oatmeal by the pound, spice, raisins and lemons by the quart and two gallons of the very best madeira wine." this was especially served at the baptism of a child, and partaken of extensively by the women. in early times the puritan women drank cider and madeira mixed with water, and much scandal was given by the readiness with which the merry wives of philadelphia joined in their husbands' comfortable potations. the eighteenth century was the drinking era, and our colony followed in no halting measure the jovial fashions of the day. in the pennsylvania _gazette_ laments that philadelphia women, "otherwise discreet," instead of contenting themselves with one good draught of beer in the morning take "two or three drams by which their appetite for wholesome food is destroyed." women kept ordinaries and taverns from early days. widows abounded, for the life of the male colonist was hard, exposure was great, and many died in middle age. war also had many victims. tavern-keeping was the resort of widows of small means then. many licenses were granted to them to keep victualling houses, to draw wine, and make and sell beer. in the wife of one nicholas howard was licensed "to entertain lodgers in the absence of her husband"; while other women were permitted to sell food and drink but could not entertain lodgers because their husbands were absent from home, thus drawing nice distinctions. a salem dame in could keep an ordinary if she provided "a godly man" to manage her business. wedding festivities seemed to have caused about the same amount of liquor drinking throughout the country. in the new land weddings and births were joyful events. the colonists broke with the home traditions and insisted on being married at home rather than at church. as civilization advanced and habits grew more luxurious the marriage festivities grew more elaborate and became affairs of serious expense. scharf, in his _chronicles of baltimore_, says the house would be filled with company to dine; the same company would stay to supper. for two days punch was dealt out in profusion. the gentlemen saw the groom on the first floor, and then ascended to the second floor where they saw the bride; there every gentleman, even to one hundred a day, kissed her. weddings in old philadelphia were very expensive and harassing to the wedded. the bride's home was filled with company to dine, the same guests usually stayed to tea, while for two days punch was served in great profusion. kissing the bride and drinking punch seem to have been the leading features of these entertainments. a custom prevailed in southern pennsylvania of barring the progress of the coach of the newly married pair by ropes and other obstacles, which were not removed until the groom paid toll in the form of a bottle of wine, or of drinks to his persecutors. the famous schuyler wedding cake had, among other ingredients, twelve dozen eggs, forty-eight pounds of raisins, twenty-four pounds of currants, four quarts of brandy, a quart of rum. this was mixed in a wash tub. from the earliest period funerals seem to have caused more expense and drunkenness than weddings. in sewell's _diary_ of the date of august , , he says of the funeral of mrs. catherine winthrop: "had good birth-cake, good wine, burgundy and canary, good beer, oranges and pears." the puritan funerals were accompanied with so much drinking that a law had to be passed to check the extravagance. in massachusetts one funeral cost six hundred pounds. parker, in his history of londonderry, says: "their funeral observances were of a character in some respects peculiar. when death entered their community and one of their members was removed, there was at once a cessation of all labor in the neighborhood. the people gathered together at the house of mourning, observed a custom which they had brought with them from ireland, called a 'wake' or watching with the dead, from night to night until the interment. these night scenes often exhibited a mixture of seriousness and of humor which appear incompatible. the scriptures would be read, prayer offered, and words of counsel and consolation administered; but ere long, according to established usage, the glass with its exhilarating beverage, must circulate freely. although funeral sermons were seldom if ever delivered on the occasion, yet there would be usually as large a congregation as assembled on the sabbath. previous to the prayer, spirit was handed round, not only to the mourners and bearers, but to the whole assembly. again after prayer, and before the coffin was removed, the same was done. nearly all would follow the body to the grave, and at their return the comforting draught was again administered, and ample entertainment provided. many a family became embarrassed in consequence of the heavy expenses incurred, not so much by the sickness which preceded the death of one of its members, as by the funeral services as then observed, and which, as they supposed, respect for the dead required." in new york state before a burial took place a number of persons, usually friends of the dead, watched the body throughout the night, liberally supplied with various bodily comforts, such as abundant strong drink, plentiful tobacco and pipes, and newly-made cakes. these watchers were not wholly gloomy nor did the midnight hours lag unsolaced. a dutch funeral was costly, the expenditure for gloves, scarfs, and rings was augmented in new york by the gift of a bottle of wine and a linen scarf. at the funeral of louis wingard, in albany, the attendance was large, and many friends returned to the house and made a night of it. these sober albany citizens drank a pipe of wine, and smoked much tobacco. they broke hundreds of pipes and all the decanters in the house, and wound up by burning all their funeral scarfs in a heap in the fireplace. at albany the expense reached the climax. the obsequies of the first wife of stephen van renssalaer cost $ , ; two thousand linen scarfs were given and all the tenants were entertained several days. on long island a young man of good family began his youth by laying aside money in gold coin for his funeral, and a superior stock of wine was also stored for the same occasion. in albany a cask of choice madeira was bought for the wedding and used in part; the remainder was saved for the funeral of the bridegroom. up the hudson were the vast manors of the beekmans, livingstons, van renssalaers, schuylers, and johnsons, where these patroons lived among and ruled over their tenantry like the feudal lords of old england. when a member of the van renssalaer family died, the tenants, sometimes amounting to several thousand, says bishop kip, came down to albany to pay their respects to his memory, and to drink to the peace of his soul in good ale from his generous cellars. at the burial of philip livingston, in new york, services were performed at both his house and at the manor house. the funeral is thus described in a journal of the day: "in the city the lower rooms of most of the houses in broadstreet, where he resided, were thrown open to receive visitors. a pipe of wine was spiced for the occasion, and to each of the eight bearers, with a pair of gloves, mourning ring, scarf and handkerchief, a monkey spoon was given. at the manor these ceremonies were all repeated, another pipe of wine was spiced, and besides the same presents to the bearers, a pair of black gloves and a handkerchief were given to each of the tenants. the whole expense was said to be five hundred pounds." at funerals in old new york it was customary to serve hot wine in winter and sangaree in summer. burnt wine was sometimes served in silver tankards. death among the dutch involved much besides mourning. "bring me a barrel of cutt tobacco, some long pipes, i am out also six silver tankards. bottles, glasses, decanters we have enough. you must bring cinnamon and burnt wine, for we have none," writes will livingston, in , on the death of his mother. here is the funeral bill of peter jacobs marinus, one of the most prominent of old time new york merchants, who died in the latter part of the seventeenth century: £ s. d. to galls of wyne at s. d. per gallon, " pairs of gloves at s. d. for bottles and glass broke, paid paid women each days attendance paid a suit of mourning for ye negro woman freed by ye testator, and making paid for cookies & - / gross of pipes, at s. d. paid for speys [spice] for ye burnte wyne and sugar, paid to the sexton and bell ringer for making ye grave and ringing ye bell, paid for ye coffin, paid for gold and making mourning rings, paid for yards beaver stuff at s. d. buttons, and making it for a suit of mourning, paid for / vat of single beer, --------- whole amount of funeral charges is it should be noted that one of the perquisites of the doctor's office was the sale of spices, and on the occasion of funerals they did a thriving business. in a reform movement swept through the northern colonies and stopped this extravagance at funerals, so that when judge clark died in new jersey, in , there was no drinking at his funeral. previous to this time it was not unusual for testators to direct that no liquor should be distributed at their funeral, just as today the request is made in regard to funerals that no flowers be sent. that the funeral of president lincoln cost the city of chicago over eight hundred dollars for the "mourners" was revealed lately in an old whisky and wine bill discovered by city clerk john r. mccabe. the bill is headed: report of comptroller of amount paid for wine and whisky furnished members of the legislature and the "mourners" at the obsequies of the late president, accepted and filed august , . bottles of wine $ . bottles whisky . wine for congressional committee . wine & whisky extras, supervisors room, . ------- $ . chapter ix _vendues--chopping bees--house bees--wood spells--clearing bees_ in a new settlement more than half the houses were log cabins. when a stranger came to such a place to stay, the men built him a cabin and made the building an occasion for sport. the trees felled, four corner men were elected to notch the logs, and while they were busy the others ran races, wrestled, played leap-frog, kicked the hat, fought, gouged, gambled, drank, did everything then considered amusement. it was not luck that made these raisings a success. it was skill and strength, and powers of endurance, which could overcome and surmount even the quantity of vile new england rum with which the workmen were plied during the day. in the older and more settled parts of the country when the first stones of a new wall were laid the masons were given a case of brandy, an anker of brandy, and thirty-two gallons of other liquid. when the beams were carried in by eight men they had a half-barrel of beer for every beam; when the beams were laid two barrels of strong beer, three cases of brandy, and seventy-two florins' worth of small beer. this was the case in when the old fort at albany was removed and a new one built. a tun of beer was furnished to the pullers down, and in addition to the above items the wood carriers, teamsters, carpenters, stone cutters, and masons had, besides these special treats, a daily dram of a gill of brandy apiece, and three pints of beer at dinner. they were dissatisfied and solicited another pint of beer. even the carters who brought wood and boatmen who floated down spars were served with liquor. when the carpenters placed the roof tree a half-barrel of liquor was given them; another half-barrel of beer under the name of tiles beer went to the tile setters. the special completion of the winding staircase demanded five guilders' worth of liquor. when the house was finished a _kreag_ or house warming of both food and drink to all the workmen and their wives was demanded and refused. well might it be refused, when the liquor bill without it amounted to seven hundred and sixteen guilders. the whole cost of the fort was twelve thousand, two hundred and thirteen guilders, or about three thousand, five hundred dollars. the liquor bill was about three hundred dollars. when the building was completed it was christened by breaking over it a bottle of rum. chopping bees were the universal method among pioneers of clearing ground in newly settled districts. sometimes this bee was held to clear land for a newly married couple, or a new neighbor, or one who had had bad luck; but it was just as freely given to a prosperous farmer though plentiful thanks and plentiful rum were the only reward of the willing workers. lyman beecher, in his autobiography, describes the ministers wood spell, which was a bee held for the purpose of drawing and cutting the winter's supply of wood for the clergyman, and a large amount of beer and cider was provided for the consumption of the parishioners. old ames, of dedham, massachusetts, in , describes a corn-husking as follows: "possibly this leafe may last a century and fall in the hands of some inquisitive person for whose entertainment i will inform him that now there is a custom amongst us of making an entertainment at husking of indian corn whereto all the neighboring swains are invited, and after the corn is finished they like the hottentots give three cheers or huzzars, but cannot carry in the husks without a rhum bottle; they feign great exertion but do nothing till rhum enlivens them, when all is done in a trice, then after a hearty meal about ten o'clock at night they go to their pastimes." in william fitzhugh wrote to nicholas hayward, then in england, as follows: "upon finishing the first line at your corner tree on the potomac your brother sam, myself and some others drank your health." the diary of old governor spottswood confirms the custom of drinking at the completion of a survey, for in he with some other virginia gentlemen and their retainers, a company of rangers and four indians, fifty-four persons in all, journeyed over the blue ridge mountains and descended to the shenandoah valley. after drinking the king's health they descended the western slope to the river, which they crossed and named "euphrates." the governor took formal possession of the region for george i., of england. much light is thrown on the convivial habits of virginians at that time by an entry found in the diary of the chroniclers: "we got all the men together and loaded their arms, and we drank the king's health in champagne and fired a volley, the prince's health in burgundy and fired a volley, and all the rest of the royal family in claret and a volley; we drank the governor's health and fired another volley. we had several sorts of liquor, viz: virginia red wine and white wine, irish usquebaugh, brandy, shrub, two sorts of rum, champagne, canary, cherry punch, cider, etc." it was the custom when land was transferred that a libation should be poured to bacchus, and to such an extent was this carried that when peter jefferson, the father of thomas jefferson, purchased four hundred acres of virginia land from his old friend and neighbor, william randolph, of tuckahoe, the consideration jovially named in the deed is given as "henry weatherbourne's biggest bowl of arrack punch." the breaking of roads furnished another occasion for the consumption of liquor, and is well described by whittier: next morn we wakened with the shout of merry voices high and clear; and saw the teamsters drawing near to break the drifted highways out. down the long hillside treading slow we saw the half-buried oxen go, shaking the snow from heads uptost, their straining nostrils white with frost. before our door the straggling train drew up, an added team to gain. the elders threshed their hand a-cold, passed, with the cider mug, their jokes from lip to lip. _traveling and taverns_ traveling in ye olden time was by stage going at the rate of ten miles an hour, always stopping at taverns for meals and giving passengers an opportunity to visit the bar to imbibe holland gin and sugar-house molasses, a popular morning beverage. when the revolution came most of these vehicles ceased to ply between the distant cities; horseback traveling was resumed, and a journey of any length became a matter of grave consideration. on the day of departure the friends of the traveler gathered at the inn, took a solemn leave of him, drank his health in bumpers of punch, and wished him god-speed on his way. it was no uncommon thing for one who went on business or pleasure from charleston to boston or new york to consult the almanac before setting out and to make his will. a traveler was a marked man, and his arrival at an ordinary was the signal for the gathering of all who could crowd in to hear his adventures and also the news. colonel byrd was a typical cavalier, and in writing of his visit to germanna shows an appreciation of the good things of life, with a hearty good will toward his neighbor and especially his neighbor's wife, and a zest for all good things to eat and drink. in his trips he smacks his lips over the fat things that fall in his way. now it is a prime rasher of bacon, fricasseed in rum; now a capacious bowl of bombo. he tells how he commended his family to the almighty, fortified himself with a beefsteak, and kissed his landlady for good luck, before setting out on his travels. the liquor traffic added to the discomforts of travel by water. at new york until the rude steamboats of fulton made their appearance on the ferry, the only means of transportation for man and beast were clumsy row-boats, flat bottomed, square ended scows with sprit-sails, and two masted boats called periaguas. in one of these, if the day were fine, if the tide were slack, if the waterman were sober, and if the boat did not put back several times to take in belated passengers who were seen running down the hill, the crossing might be made with some degree of speed and comfort and a landing effected at the foot of the steps at the pier which, much enlarged, still forms part of the brooklyn slip of the fulton ferry. near philadelphia at gloucester point, if the wind and tide failed, the vessel dropped anchor for the night. if passengers were anxious to be landed in haste they were charged half a dollar each to be rowed ashore. at one in the morning the tide again turned. but the master was then drunk and before he could be made to understand what was wanted the tide was again ebbing and the boat aground. in the west and south the taverns were generally bad. when silas deane and his fellow delegates went down to the continental congress in they found "no fruit, bad rum, and nothing of the meat kind but salt pork." at another tavern they had to go out and "knock over three or four chickens to be roasted for their dinner." no porter was to be had at another inn, and the one palatable drink was some bottled cider. the marquis de chastelleux writes of this region in in his _travels in north america_: landing on a dark night at courtheath's tavern the landlord complained that he was obliged to live in this out-of-the-way place of pompton. he expressed surprise at finding on the parlor table copies of milton, addison, richardson, and other authors of note. the cellar was not so well stocked as the library. he could get nothing but vile cider brandy, of which he must make grog. the bill for a night's lodging and food for himself, his servants and horses, was $ . . much might be written about the taverns, which from the very beginning played an important part in this cheerful, prosperous, unplagued colonial life. their faded signboards swung in every street, and curious old verses still remain to show us what our wise forefathers liked to read. one little pot-house had painted on its board these encouraging lines: this is the tree that never grew, this is the bird that never flew; this is the ship that never sailed, this is the mug that never failed. it was not against every tavern that the reproach could be brought that each person could not have a room to himself, or at least clean sheets without paying extra. many a new england village inn could, in the opinion of the most fastidious frenchman, well bear comparison with the best to be found in france. the neatness of the rooms, the goodness of the beds, the cleanliness of the sheets, the smallness of the reckoning, filled him with amazement. nothing like them was to be met with in france. there the wayfarer who stopped at an ordinary overnight slept in a bug-infested bed, covered himself with ill-washed sheets, drank adulterated wine, and to the annoyance of greedy servants was added the fear of being robbed. but in new england he might with perfect safety pass night after night at an inn whose windows were destitute of shutters, and whose doors had neither locks nor keys. save the post office it was the most frequented house in town. the great room with its low ceiling and neatly sanded floor, its bright pewter dishes and stout-backed, slat-bottomed chairs ranged along the walls, its long table, its huge fireplace, with the benches on each side, where the dogs slept at night, and where the guests sat when the dip candles were lighted, to drink mull and flip, possessed some attractions for every one. the place was at once the town hall and the assembly room, the court house and the show tent, the tavern and the exchange. there the selectmen met. there the judges sometimes held court. on its door were fastened the list of names drawn for the jury, notices of vendues, offers for reward for stray cattle, the names of tavern haunters, the advertisements of the farmers who had the best seed-potatoes and the best seed-corn for sale. it was at the "general green," or the "united states arms," or the "bull's head" that wandering showmen exhibited their automatons and musical clocks, that dancing masters gave their lessons, that singing school was held, that the caucus met, that the colonel stopped during general training. the tavern porch was the rallying point of the town; hither all news came; here all news was discussed; hence all news was disseminated. dewitt clinton in his famous letters on political parties says: "in every county or village inn the barroom is the coffee room exchange, or place of intelligence, where all the quid nuncs and newsmongers and politicians of the district resort." many were the good reasons that could be given to explain and justify attendance at an old-time tavern. one was the fact that often the only newspaper that came to town was kept therein. this dingy tavern sheet often saw hard usage, for when it went its rounds some could scarcely read it, some but pretend to read it. one old fellow in newburyport opened it wide, gazed at it with interest, and cried out to his neighbor in much excitement: "bad news! terrible gales, terrible gales, ships all bottom side up," as indeed they were in his way of holding the news sheet. the extent and purposes to which the tavern sheet might be applied can be guessed from the notice written over the mantel-shelf in the taproom: "gentlemen learning to spell are requested to use last week's news-letter." a picturesque and grotesque element of tavern life was found in those last leaves on the tree, the few of indian blood who lingered after the tribes were scattered and nearly all were dead. these tawnies could not be made as useful in the tavern yard as the shiftless and shifting negro element that also drifted to the tavern, for the eastern indian never loved a horse as did the negro, and seldom became handy in the care of horses. these waifs of either race, the half-breeds of both races, circled around the tavern chiefly because a few stray pennies might be earned there, and also because within the tavern were plentiful supplies of cider and rum. in pennsylvania the moravians became famous for their inns. the "nazareth," the "rose," and the "crown" at bethlehem were well known. the story of the rose tavern is prettily told by professor reichel, under the title "a red rose from the olden time," it being built on land leased by william penn, on the rent of one red rose. the best one of all however was "the sun" at bethlehem, which was familiar for nearly a century to all the people from massachusetts to the carolinas. at different times the inn has entertained beneath its roof nearly all the signers of the declaration of independence, most of the members of the continental congress, and all the presidents of the united states down to lincoln. that the wines were remarkable and that the inn had its brand of madeira, goes without saying. the early moravians lived largely on game, and cultivated a great variety of vegetables. deer and grouse were very abundant on the barrens in the manor of the red rose. it was long a favorite sporting ground for philadelphians, and the resort of colonial governors. the wayfarers at the inn lived on all delicacies in the greatest abundance, together with the famous fruit, trout, shad, and wild strawberries. foreigners who stopped there invariably declared that the inn was fully equal to the best in europe. it was owned and managed by the moravian church as part of its communal system. a good southern hotel of which there were few was a large brick building with a long veranda in front. for a shilling and sixpence, virginia currency, the traveler was shown to a neat bed in a well furnished room up one flight of stairs. on the wall was fastened a printed table of rates. from this he learned that breakfast cost two shillings, and dinner with grog or toddy was three; that a quart of toddy was one and six, that a bottle of porter was two and six, and that the best madeira wine sold for six shillings a quart. when he rose in the morning he washed his face, not in his room, but on the piazza, and ate his breakfast in the coolest of dining rooms, at a table adorned with pewter spoons and china plates. off at one side was a tub full of water wherein melons and cucumbers, pitchers of milk and bottles of wine, were placed to cool. near by was a water case which held the decanters. if he called for water a wench brought it fresh from the spring, and he drank from a glass which had long been cooling in a barrel which stood in one corner of the room. in winter the fire blazed high on the hearth, and the toddy hissed in the noggin; in summer the basket of fruit stood in the breeze-swept hall, and lightly clad black boys tripped in bearing cool tankards of punch and sangaree. for his lodging and his board, if he ate a cold supper, and was content with one quart of toddy, he paid to the landlord of the eagle ten shillings, virginia currency, or one dollar and sixty-six cents federal money, each day. as to new york taverns, in a letter written by dr. mitchel in september, , he states: "the tontine coffee house, under the care of mr. hyde is the best hotel in new york. he sets from twelve to sixteen dishes every day. he charges for a years board without liquor three hundred and fifty to four hundred dollars." in gloucester, massachusetts, as in other towns the selectmen held their meetings in the tavern. there were five selectmen in , whose salary was five dollars apiece. their tavern bill, however, amounted to thirty pounds. the following year the citizens voted the selectmen a salary of five pounds apiece and "to find themselves." in the expense of living at the indian queen in washington was not great. the price of board was $ . per day, $ . a week, or $ . a month. brandy and whiskey were placed on the tables in decanters to be drunk by the guests without additional charge therefor. a bottle of real old madeira imported into alexandria was supplied for $ . ; sherry, brandy, and gin were $ . per bottle, and jamaica rum $ . . at the bar toddies were made with unadulterated liquor and lump sugar, and the charge was twelve and a half cents a drink. chapter x _extent and effect of the traffic at flood tide_ in one-fourth of the buildings of new amsterdam, or new york, were tap-houses. in his notes on virginia, jefferson states that in there were in virginia fifty-three thousand, two hundred and eighty-nine free males above twenty-one years of age and one hundred and ninety-one taverns. about this time their number was so great that they were limited by law in each county to one at the court house and one at the ferry. the diary of judge sewall shows that in boston had a population of ten thousand, with thirty-four ordinaries, of whom twelve were women; four common victuallers, of whom one was a woman; forty-one retailers of liquor, of whom seventeen were women, and a few cider sellers. as soon as the white settlers had planted themselves at pittsburgh they made requisition on philadelphia for six thousand kegs of flour and three thousand kegs of whiskey. there were distilleries on nearly every stream emptying into the monongahela. the chicago directory for classified its business interests as taverns, two; indian traders, three; butchers, one; merchants, one; with a poll list of thirty-two voters. so much seed sown from the earliest times produced a bountiful harvest. in winthrop complains that workmen were idle in spite of high wages because they spent so much in tobacco and strong waters. about this time drunkenness greatly increased and deprived the custom of bundling of whatever innocence it may have had remaining. josselyn, in , gives a graphic description of the extravagance and drunkenness of the cod fishermen, stating that at the end of each voyage they drank up their earnings. in this year cotton mather said every house in boston was an ale house. in nathaniel saltonstall, of haverhill, massachusetts, a judge who had refused to sit in the salem witchcraft cases, wrote a letter to the salem court remonstrating against licensing public houses. in dr. increase mather said: "many of the rising generation are profane, drunkards, swearers licentious and scoffers at the power of godliness." dankers and sluyter, in , comment on the puritanical laws and say, "drinking and fighting occur there not less than elsewhere and as to truth and true godliness you must not expect more of them than of others." the reverend john miller, in his history of new york, says: "'tis in this country a common thing even for the meanest persons as soon as the bounty of god has furnished them with a bountiful crop to turn what they can as soon as may be into money, and that money into drinks, at the same time when their family at home have nothing but rags to resist the winter's cold; nay if the fruits of their plantations be such as are by their own immediate labor convertible into liquor such as cider, perry, etc., they have scarce the patience to wait till it is fit for drinking but inviting their boon companions they all of them neglecting whatever work they are about, set to it together and give not over till they have drunk it off. and to these sottish engagements they will make nothing to ride ten or fifteen miles and at the conclusion of one debauch another is generally appointed except their stock of liquor fail them." in his history of new haven henry atwater states: "a brew-house was regarded as an essential part of a homestead, and beer was on the table as regularly as bread." when in stuyvesant's day it was reported that fully one-fourth of the houses in new amsterdam were devoted to the sale of brandy, tobacco, and beer, mr. roberts observed: "their existence tells the story of the habits of the people. it was when governor sloughter was besotted with drink that he signed the illegal death warrant of leisler; it was when the informer kane was possessed by the fumes of liquor of the tavern, that he foisted upon the terrified colonists the lying details of the shameful negro plot; it was when the representative of the most powerful family in the province, chief justice delancey, and governor clinton, the proxy of the king, were 'in their cups' that a personal quarrel led to antagonisms that threatened the welfare of the colony. indeed the deep hold that this vice had upon the morals of the entire colony seemed to repeat and emphasize the wisdom of the name which the earlier spanish in an intercourse had fastened upon its leading town--monafos--'the place of the drunken men.'" _whiskey as money_ in a large part of the territory now the united states the early settlers lived in the rudest kind of log cabins and knew no other money than whiskey and the skins of wild beasts. in , after the collapse of the continental currency, it seemed there was no money in the country, and in the absence of a circulating medium there was a reversion to the practice of barter, and the revival of business was thus further impeded. whiskey in north carolina and tobacco in virginia did duty as measures of value. in pennsylvania what a bank bill was at philadelphia or a shilling piece at lancaster, whiskey was in the towns and villages that lay along the banks of the monongahela river. it was the money, the circulating medium of the country. a gallon of good whiskey at every store in pittsburgh, and at every farmhouse in the four counties of washington, westmoreland, alleghany, and fayette, was the equivalent of a shilling. and when, in , the government began to coin new money for the people, the new coins did not, many of them, go far from the seaports and great towns. in the country districts, in the ohio valley, on the northern border they were still unknown. the school-master received his pittance in french crowns and spanish half-joes. the boatmen were paid their hire in shillings and pence, and if perchance some traveler paid his reckoning at a tavern with a few american coins, they were beheld with wonder by every lounger who came there to smoke and drink. _temperance societies_ the first prohibitory law was that of georgia, in , and the first dawn of temperance sentiment was undoubtedly the pledge of governor winthrop, still earlier than this, when he announced his famous discountenance of health drinking. this first of all temperance pledges in new england is recorded in his diary in language as temperate as his intent: "the governor, upon consideration of the inconveniences which have grown in new england by drinking one to another, restrained it at his own table, and wished others to do the like; so it grew little by little, into disuse." lyman beecher claims the massachusetts temperance society formed in to be the first one, the pledge of its members being to discontinue the use of liquor at entertainments, funerals, and auction sales, and to abstain from furnishing laborers with grog during haying time, as was then the custom. john b. gough, however, mentions the constitution of a temperance society formed in new york in , one of whose by-laws was, "any member of this association who shall be convicted of intoxication shall be fined a quarter of a dollar, except such act of intoxication shall take place on the fourth of july, or any other regularly appointed military muster." in a committee of new york citizens appointed to investigate the causes of pauperism reported that seven-eighths of the paupers were reduced to abject poverty by the sale of liquor. as far back as the humane society found eighteen hundred licensed dramshops scattered over the city, retailing liquor in small quantities, and offering every inducement to the poor to drink. new hampshire required a selectman of each town to post the names of tipplers in every tavern and fined anyone ten dollars who sold them liquor. about this same time the legislature of pennsylvania passed a law authorizing the governor to appoint a commission of nine to investigate the causes of pauperism in philadelphia, and to report to the next legislature. the farmers of upper providence township, pennsylvania, met in the school house just before harvest time and agreed not to give liquor to their harvest hands, nor to use it in the hay field or during harvest, nor to allow any one in their employ to use it. a general movement for temperance swept over the atlantic states. the portland society, auxiliary to the massachusetts society for suppressing intemperance, reported that out of eighty-five persons in the workhouse, seventy-one became paupers through drink. a grand jury at albany drew a picture of their city quite as dismal, and presented the immense number of dramshops and corner groceries where liquor was retailed by the cent's worth as an evil and a nuisance to society. one of the most interesting documents in early temperance agitation is the letter of the mayor of philadelphia in , showing the condition of the liquor traffic at that time. he pointed out the dangers of the tippling houses and corner groceries, where liquor was sold by the cent's worth to children five years old, and paid for often with stolen goods. the liquor traffic left an indelible impress upon the geography of the country. the oldest american reference to the word rum is in the massachusetts statute of prohibiting the sale of strong liquors "whether known by the name of rum, strong water, brandywine, etc." the dutch in new york called rum brandywine, and it conferred its name upon the river which in turn gave its name to one of the most famous battles of the revolution. among places may be found such names as rumford, wineland, winesburg, and others. when in mr. garrison assumed the editorial control of the _journal of the times_ at bennington, vermont, he distinctly avowed that he had three objects in view, "the suppression of intemperance and its associate vices, the gradual emancipation of every slave in the republic, the perpetuity of the national peace." he contributed to the third object; he accomplished the second; the first problem he left unsolved as a bequest to this generation. transcribers' notes punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed. simple typographical errors were corrected; occasional unbalanced quotation marks retained. ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained. page : "seargeant" was spelled that way. page : the closing quotation mark for the phrase beginning 'and "tom the tinker was shortly evolved' probably should follow 'the tinker', but was printed at the end of the sentence, and has not been moved. the heritage of dress [illustration: very early man in java. (_chapter ii._) _plate i._] the heritage of dress being notes on the history and evolution of clothes by wilfred mark webb fellow of the linnean society of london curator of eton college museum with eleven plates and one hundred and sixty-nine figures in the text london e. grant richards to my wife hilda e. webb preface it would be difficult to find a subject of more universal interest than that of dress, and hosts of books have been written which deal with the attire that has been adopted at different times and by various nations or social classes. the ornamental and artistic sides of the question have also received much consideration, but the volumes that have appeared serve chiefly as works of reference. the present book aims at being of more immediate interest and usefulness; it starts with things as they are, and is really a popular contribution to the natural history of man. on all sides the advantages of observation and the need for the nature-study method in education are being rightly urged, but there is a tendency to narrow the purview. anything in our environment is worthy of notice, and though attention is well directed towards that which is least artificial, we should not leave man and his works altogether on one side. there is material for observation, research, and deduction, even in a bowler hat and a cut-away coat. one of the pleasantest features in connection with the making of this book has been the kind and ready help which i have received from all sides. here and there throughout the text the names of friends and correspondents who have given their assistance have been mentioned. to these i offer my hearty thanks, as well as to the following, who with suggestions, information, or with material for illustrations, have contributed in no small way to the interest of the book: messrs. fownes brothers & company, mr. allan a. hooke, mr. w. s. ward, mr. karl, of messrs. nathan & company, messrs. tress & company, messrs. lincoln & bennett, mr. m. d. hill, the rev. a. w. upcott, head master of christ's hospital, miss clark, miss hodgson, the rev. r. ashington bullen, mr. henry miller, of the church association, mr. ravenscroft, of messrs. ede sons & ravenscroft, mr. paley baildon, mr. george hertslet, of the lord chamberlain's office, messrs. wilkinson & company, mr. c. m. mühlberg, mr. w. s. parker, of messrs. debenhams, ltd., capt. h. trench, major j. w. mallet, of the _army and navy gazette_, mr. basil white, of messrs. hawkes & company, mr. w. h. jesson, messrs. souter & company, mr. william lawrence, mr. heather bigg, dr. j. cantlie, and the rt. hon. viscountess harberton. a glance at the bibliography, which is given on pages - , will show the principal books and papers to which reference has been made. in connection with the illustrations, special thanks must be given to monsieur maurice sand, the editor of the _review of the university of brussels_, for his kind permission to reproduce a number of the figures used to illustrate a translation of sir george darwin's article. these are figures , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , and . acknowledgments are due to mr. st. john hope for figures - , to messrs. a. & c. black for figures and and and , and to messrs. prewett & co. for figures and . for the original of plate ii, i am indebted to the kindness of captain r. ford, of plate iii to mr. henry stevens; plate iv has been taken from a brass rubbing in rugby school museum, through the kind offices of mr. j. m. hardwich. i have to thank mr. r. bamber for the original of plate viii, which was obtained through his instrumentality. figure b of plate ix was kindly contributed by the rev. a. w. upcott, head master of christ's hospital, and figures b and c on plate x were copied from moseley's "voyage of the 'challenger,'" by the kind permission of mr. john murray, while figure d is due to the courtesy of general robley. plate xi is reprinted from _the reliquary_, by the kind permission of messrs. bemrose and sons, and the source of other illustrations is acknowledged beneath them, while the classic collection of pictures which were brought together by the late mr. f. w. fairholt to illustrate his "costume in england" has proved, as will be seen, of the utmost service. in conclusion, i have much pleasure in calling attention to the time and care which mr. w. j. webb has expended upon the figures, which are a feature of the book; and i must mention the willing help which i have been afforded in a number of details by miss amy astbury and mr. bernard weaver. wilfred mark webb. odstock, hanwell, _november, _. contents i the thrall of dress page the principles of evolution applied to clothes ii the origin of dress iii development of the modern coat the ancestral shawl--problematical buttons iv buttons as chronicles episodes in the later history of the coat and cuffs v collars and bands nicks in coat lapels--the why and wherefore of the white shirt front vi vestiges in the hat how hats were evolved--why plumes are on the left side--the growth of the busby--helmets and cocked hats vii shoes and stockings early foot-gear--the origin of the clock--a modern imitation of tattooing--gaily coloured garters viii petticoats and trousers the belted plaid and kilt--early skirts--the antiquity of trousers--trouser stripes ix coats of arms signet rings--armorial bearings--escutcheons--crests--badges x gloves and mittens origin of the baby's glove--fourchettes--the "points" on the backs of gloves xi tags, pins, and baldrics laces--the evolution and vagaries of the safety-pin--primitive methods of carrying burdens as illustrated by muff-chains, baldrics, and yokes xii ornaments primitive necklaces--finger rings--the origin of the hair comb--buttons--studs--flowers--feathers--amulets xiii hair dressing head shaving--wigs that are still worn--roman curls and fringes xiv special dresses fashions kept up by ceremonies--survivals in special costume--flowing garments xv servants' dress the prototypes of liveries--reminiscences of george ii and george iii--origin of the page-boy's buttons--the jockey cap--aprons xvi cockades the cockade a degenerated chaperon--the varieties of the cockade--cockade wearers xvii children's dress survivals in children's dress--special school costumes--the blue-coat boy--public school boys--adoption of special dress at girls' schools xviii wedding garments the veil--bridesmaids and bribery--old shoes--orange blossom xix mourning colours associated with mourning--widows' weeds--perennial mourning xx costume connected with religion the surplice and "the cloth"--the civil origin of vestments--fine vestments--processional vestments, so called--nuns' dress--the choker xxi sunday clothes the significance of sunday clothes--the wearing of hats in church by ladies xxii academical dress gowns and hanging sleeves--the forerunner of the hood--the origin of the doctor's hat--the evolution of the mortar-board xxiii legal dress vestiges of the coif--hoods and gowns--signs of mourning xxiv state and court attire coronation dress--parliamentary robes--mistakes in court dress--vestiges of the wig and of the chaperon--court cards xxv survivals in military uniforms armour--prickers for flint locks--forage cords--reminiscences of gallantry--regimental badges--courtship colours xxvi naval uniform supposed survivals--petticoats and wide breeches xxvii the costume of puppets punch and judy--fashion dolls--dolls in swaddling clothes--the egyptian "shabbies" xxviii the clown and painting the body the clown's dress--savage painting and survivals of it--tattooing--patches and false complexions--masks xxix stage costumes the harlequin, pantaloon, columbine, and acrobat xxx nightdress bands on nightgowns--nightcaps--night attire worn in the streets xxxi the dress of animals natural representatives of clothes--horse trappings--amulets on harness--dogs' disguises--fashions in the form of animals xxxii colour importance of colour--instinctive love of bright hues--desirability of coloured clothes and gay scenes--colour and complexion xxxiii patterns ancient designs--checks and tartans--parti-coloured clothes--evolution of ornamentation xxxiv impressions to be gained from dress clues from clothes--individuality not disguised by them--modern dress of other countries--significance of clothes xxxv the effect of clothes upon the individual the origin of stays--tight lacing no new thing--its effects--mr. heather bigg on the need for support--the ideal foot--skull deformities--padding xxxvi further effects of clothes on the individual mental effects of different clothes--preferences of girls for certain articles of dress--movements that depend upon the presence or absence of clothes xxxvii the rise and fall of fashions reason why fashions are followed--gay clothes seen when periods of depression are over--condemnation of fashions by the clergy--quakers--sumptuary laws--the killing of fashions xxxviii dress reform clothes to be avoided--need for warmer garments--"rational" dress for women conclusion bibliography index list of plates plate facing page i. very early man in java. illustrating the remarks in chapter ii, pages and _frontispiece_ ii. a woman and a witch-doctor of central africa, showing the part that ornaments may play even when clothing is of the scantiest. (from a photograph by captain ford) iii. the silk vest worn by charles i on the scaffold. illustrating the sleeved tunic opening for a short distance down the front. (from a photograph by mr. henry stevens) iv. reproduction of a brass to john brandon and his two wives in the church of st. mary, king's lynn. date, . on the male figure, continuous rows of buttons run from the wrist to the elbow of the under-vest. the women wear the wimple and gorget or throat cloth v. a siamese princess wearing trousers vi. two padaung women, showing the numerous metal collars which they wear round their necks vii. methods of hairdressing, illustrated by romano-egyptian portrait models in the myers collection, eton college museum. (from photographs by wilfred mark webb) viii. a barge girl, showing the costume worn on the canals. (from a photograph by wakefield brentford) ix. fig. a. the cap worn by the scholars of christ's hospital until the middle of the nineteenth century. fig. b. a scholar of christ's hospital. (by the courtesy of the rev. a. w. upcott, m.a., head master of christ's hospital) x. fig. a. the head of a clown, showing the painted face, the ruff, and the elizabethan method of doing the hair. fig. b. the face of a japanese actor (after moseley, by the courtesy of mr. john murray). fig. c. the painted face of a paper figure which is burned at chinese funerals (after moseley, by the courtesy of mr. john murray). fig. d. the tattooed head of a moorish chief. (by the courtesy of general robley) xi. wooden stay busks. these incidentally show survivals of primitive ornament. from _the reliquary_, by kind permission of messrs. bemrose & sons, ltd. list of figures fig. page . drawing of a woman engraved by a cave man . sketch showing the development of the tunic. in this stage it has no arms . diagram showing the way in which a sleeved tunic is derived from the shawl . a smock frock . jacket of a woman, made in one piece. bronze stage of culture (after worsaae) . man's dress showing buttons on the right side . woman's dress showing buttons on the left side . diagram showing how a man does up a button. first stage . diagram showing how a man does up a button. second stage . diagram showing how a woman does up a button. first stage . diagram showing how a woman does up a button. second stage . the buttons on the back of a policeman's great-coat . the buttons that close the slit up the back of an ulster . a back view of a seventeenth-century coat showing the buttons and buttonholes . the tab and buttons on the back of a soldier's great-coat which make a temporary waist . the buttons and tab on a tramway driver's coat . an eighteenth-century coat with side buttons and tab . side tabs and buttons at the back (after racinet) . a coat worn at the end of the seventeenth century (after h. bonnart) . a modern coat with side pockets . a footman's coat, modern, with vestigial pocket flaps . coat skirts buttoned back (after hogarth) . a coat with the skirts buttoned back and showing the lining . a dress coat with skirts cut away . a modern coat cuff with buttons . turned-back cuff, end of seventeenth century (after bonnart) . a coat sleeve (after hogarth) with horizontal row of buttons . sleeve of a coat of the seventeenth century, reputed to have been worn by charles i . the turned-back cuff of an overcoat, modern . a sleeve with vertical buttons and a turned-back cuff as well (from a uniform, after hogarth) . the uniform of a coastguard officer of (after racinet) . the nicks in the coat and waistcoat . a stage when the nick was useful (lucien bonaparte, after paul lacroix) . the "toothpick" on a dress coat . modern bands . a blue-coat boy's bands . a chorister of jesus college, cambridge, showing the collar worn until recently. (from a photograph, by the courtesy of mr. h. austin wheaton) . a stage in the reduction of bands (portrait of jan steen from the _illustrated magazine of art_) . full-sized bands (portrait of john pym from the _illustrated magazine of art_) . a modern bandbox, now used for hats . bands that survive at the present day . the turban of a jewish priest (after kitto) compared with the dome of the mosque of omar . a siamese head-dress and a pra pang or votive spire (after p. a. thompson) . a gothic spire (st. stephens, caen) compared with the hennin (the latter after fairholt) . band with streamers fastening on the head-dress of an egyptian woman. from a figure of the sixth dynasty, b.c. . a lady's head-dress confined with a fillet, fourteenth century (after viollet le duc) . a sailor hat with band and streamers . a twelfth-century head-dress with streamers, from a ms. (after viollet le duc) . a modern scotch cap with streamers . a mitre of the see of durham showing the strings (after millington) . small vestigial bow of ribbon in a modern hat . a hat with the remains of lacing . a hunting hat with complete lacing inside . a disc of leather . the disc perforated and the lace inserted . the lace tightened to form a crown . the ends of the lace tied as a bow inside . a bow fastened to the lining of a lady's hat . plumes on the left side . the red hungarian cap, which was the forerunner of the busby . a busby (of the hon. artillery company) in which the cap is a vestige only . a fireman's helmet (of the ancient greek type) . buttons so arranged that the broad brim of a hat can be fastened to the crown, thus forming a temporary "cock" (hudibras, after hogarth) . a modern boot decorated with perforations made in the leather . an ornamented roman shoe, of two thicknesses . a roman shoe of open-work leather . a hide shoe of pre-roman type from ireland (after fairholt) . the original top boot with the upper part temporarily turned down . the modern top boot in which the upper part can no longer be turned up . puttees . leg bandages of a royal personage at the end of the tenth century (after fairholt) . a stocking with clocks . an embroidered stocking showing the further evolution of the clock (date ) . an open-work stocking of . a shawl used as a kilt by a chieftain of denmark in the bronze stage of culture (after worsaae) . a simple dress in the form of a petticoat from an egyptian figure of the sixth dynasty ( b.c.), from the myers collection in eton college museum . a korean servant (after hough) . a short kilt . a barbarian soldier wearing characteristic trousers (from a diptych of st. paul, after marriott) . a saxon military man wearing wide trousers (from the harleian ms., no. , after fairholt) . a peasant woman of champéry wearing trousers . a german hussar of . the crest on a modern signet ring . sir geoffrey loutterell and the ladies of his family, showing the extent to which armorial bearings were worn in the middle of the fourteenth century. from a psalter, made for sir geoffrey (after fairholt) . the crest and surcoat of henry, first duke of lancaster, a.d. . from the brass to sir hugh hasting at elsyng, norfolk (after charles boutell) . the helmet and crest of the black prince. from "vetusta monumenta" (after st. john hope) . the shield of the black prince. from "vetusta monumenta" (after st. john hope) . the surcoat or jupon of the black prince. from "vetusta monumenta" (after st. john hope) . the postilion of a lord mayor of london, wearing a crest upon his cap, and a coat of arms upon his sleeve (copied by permission from a plate published by the john williamson co., ltd.) . a baby's glove without separate fingers . the back of a woollen glove showing the three vestiges known as "points" . a modern kid glove showing the fourchettes or pieces between the fingers, which form three pointed v's . queen elizabeth's coronation glove, showing the stitching carried down on to the back. (from a photograph by the courtesy of messrs. fownes brothers and co.) . the glove of anne, queen consort of james i, showing the embroidery on the fingers, which is the ancestor of the modern "points." (from a photograph, by the courtesy of messrs. fownes brothers and co.) . a silk lace with simple metal tags . ornamental metal tags on a velvet neck ribbon . a simple safety-pin . an etruscan brooch or fibula, resembling a safety-pin. (in the collection of major w. j. myers in eton college museum) . the safety-pin in the waistband . the safety-pin grown larger and used for fastening on a hat . a muff-chain . a hawker, illustrating the primitive way of carrying a burden . a courier-bag supported by a baldric . an ornamental baldric of the early fifteenth century. (royal ms. , d. , after fairholt) . a lady's dress, showing the part which is called a yoke, and recalls a primitive method of carrying burdens . a loom comb found in the glastonbury lake dwellings (after boyd dawkins) . a modern comb for the hair . two studs of bronze, seen from above and from the side, later bronze age (after worsaae) . the "flash" of five black ribbons on the collar of the welsh fusiliers. a survival from the days of the pigtail . the modern groom, showing the belt to which ladies clung when riding on a pillion . a footman in plush breeches and with powdered hair. his "pouter" coat dates from the reign of george iii. by the courtesy of messrs. f. t. prewett and co. . a sheriff's coachman with the full-skirted coat of the time of george ii. by the courtesy of messrs. prewett and co. . the wig-bag (a survival of the bag-wig) now seen on the back of the collar of the lord mayor's coachman . a modern page-boy's livery . the dutch skeleton dress, fashionable for boys in . the cockade known as the "large treble," representing a survival of the chaperon . a "treble cockade" covered with black cloth for mourning. the concentric circles would appear to represent the twisted liripipe of the chaperon . treble cockade used by chelsea pensioners . the regent cockade . royal cockade for state occasions . ordinary royal cockade .{two stages in the evolution of the chaperon. combined { hood and cape { .{enlargement of the peak of the hood to form the liripipe. { (after calthrop, by kind permission of messrs. a. and { c. black) .{further development of the chaperon. cape and liripipe { made into a head-dress that can be altered at will { .{a chaperon ready made up, in order to save trouble. { (after calthrop, by kind permission of messrs. a. and { c. black) . dress worn by the girls at coombe hill school, westerham. it is a modification of the dervish djibah . dress worn by the girls at the croft school, betley, when at work . st. gregory the great with his father gordianus, who was a senator, on his right, and his mother sylvia on his left. this shows the similarity between ecclesiastical and civil costume in early times. from an authentic picture (after marriott) . a priest in the vestments now worn at the celebration of the eucharist . the coat of arms of thomas à becket, showing an archbishop's pall . the head-dress of a nun showing the veil and breast-cloth derived from the wimple, the cap which represents the chin-cloth, together with the frontal and the hood . the head-dress of a lady of the time of henry ii. the wimple is shown covering the chin and head-bands (after calthrop) . the chin-band and forehead strap after the wimple has been removed (after calthrop) . hanging sleeve of the fifteenth century . the hanging sleeve of a chancellor of oxford university . a college cap or trencher . cranmer's hat, illustrating a stage in the evolution of a mortar-board (after fairholt) . the hat of a bishop of the stuart period showing a stage at which the stiffening now seen in the mortar-board was becoming necessary (after fairholt) . the wig of a modern judge . the vestige of the coif from the wig of a serjeant-at-law . a barrister's gown showing the vestigial hood and its streamer. the buttons and braid which once temporarily looped up the sleeves now fix it permanently . a yeoman of the guard of the present reign . the wig-bag or "flash" from a court suit, showing the rosette held away and displaying the black silk bag. at the lower corners of the latter loops are seen, which are probably the remains of those through which a ribbon was passed, which went round the neck and fastened on the breast by a brooch . the hood from the mantle of a knight of the garter, showing the survival of the chaperon and its liripipe . relic of chain mail on the shoulder of an imperial yeoman . chain mail illustrated by the brass of sir richard de trumpington, a.d. . a reversion in military equipment. one of cromwell's ironsides ( ), from a print. a cavalryman sketched at aldershot in . copied, by permission, from the _daily mail_ . the prickers on the shoulder-belt of a hussar, which survive from the time of flint-lock muskets . the oscan pulicinella of , without a long nose. the dress is very similar to that figured in (after riccoboni) . the calabrian giangurgolo of , with the long nose. the dress is very similar to that figured in (after riccoboni) . an ancient bronze statuette with the face and features of punch (after ficorroni) . a fourteenth-century puppet-show (from the ms. of the "roman d'alexandre") . punch, from the punch and judy show, showing the ruff and other details of elizabethan costume . judy, from the punch and judy show, with ruff, mob cap, and apron . the beadle, from the punch and judy show . the doctor, from the punch and judy show, with wig and white tie . a clown, showing a survival of an elizabethan costume . the dress of a modern harlequin . a pantaloon, showing an elizabethan costume of which venetian breeches form part . the bands that survive on a lady's nightdress . a woman's nightcap, still worn in wiltshire . a man's nightcap, from oxfordshire . an english horse amulet in the form of a crescent. the flat places near the tips of the horns are evidence that the form is derived from two boars' tusks . an english horse amulet showing both the heart and the sun . the cowry-shell ornaments on the head of an officer's charger of the th hussars. the pendant recalls that on mules in palestine . cowry shells on an eastern mule, hanging like the pendant of the th hussars . cowry shells on the head-stall of a camel from palestine . a merveilleuse (after a. robida) . a modern family, consisting of the average-sized mother, the taller daughter, and the puny boy (from a drawing by miss audrey watson in "physical efficiency," by dr. cantlie, by kind permission of messrs. putnam's sons) i the thrall of dress the principles of evolution applied to clothes _the numbers in the text refer to a bibliography at the end of the book_ unluckily, perhaps, we are born naked and helpless, but no sooner do we come into the world than we are provided with body-guards in the shape of clothes. in consequence, our social position is made manifest. our vanity is flattered at the same time that our modesty is assured. on the other hand, however, our skin may be chafed, our hair worn away, and, should our equipment strictly follow the dictates of the goddess fashion, our bodies may even be deformed and our lives shortened. moreover, there are other penalties to be paid; we are kept warm in summer as well as in winter, the purchase of our attire may entail the spending of much money, while the mere donning and doffing of our clothes gives rise to a prodigious waste of time. even tramps have at intervals to replace the rags which cover them, and while, for all practical purposes, every one else takes off his clothes when going to bed and puts them on again when getting up, many of those who are at work in the daytime "dress for dinner" in the evening. moreover, society may demand a further expenditure of time on the part of its members, and the rule may be laid down that the higher the standing of a civilized individual, the more often does he change his garments. in fact, more than one monarch, from the way in which he appears in different uniforms at various functions which follow one another in quick succession, has been likened to the now familiar "lightning change artist" of the music-hall stage. it is thus quite clear that all of us are more or less under the thrall of dress. those, therefore, who find the position irksome, will gain solace from the interesting investigations which can be made into the origin and development of costume. others, again, whose clothes already find favour in their eyes, will enjoy looking at them from a different point of view. as a matter of fact, our artificial coverings have become so much a part of our life that one may perhaps be allowed to apply the methods of the naturalist to their consideration, and deal with them as if they were part and parcel of the creature which wears them. darwin established beyond a doubt[ ] that the plants and animals of to-day are the direct descendants of older and often very different forms, and it is the task and delight of the naturalist to trace their genealogies. most useful suggestions may be obtained from the small vestiges that remain in the bodies of present-day creatures, of structures which in early times were important and useful organs. for instance, if the skin be lifted from the head of a "slow worm" we find a third eye, which tells us that once its ancestors, like the giant cyclops, were able to look out from the middle of their faces. again, to take a case which applies to ourselves, and has a melancholy interest for us, one might mention the vermiform appendix. this is a remnant of a great sac which once was useful when our ancestors were vegetarians; now it is worse than useless, for it is very liable to become irritated and give rise to what is known as appendicitis. so long as a quarter of a century ago sir george darwin pointed out[ ] that the great theory of evolution established by his father could be applied with much advantage to the study of dress, and it will be seen as we proceed that not the least fascinating part of the subject are vestiges similar to those which we have just described, and which have often survived solely for ornamental reasons. many of these are so familiar, that in running the eye in the ordinary way over a man's usual costume, attention would not be drawn to them. there is the band round the outside of his hat and the little bow inside; the nick in the collar of his coat and the more or less useless buttons on his sleeves and back; while we must not forget the curious ornamentation on the toes of his boots, nor the crest on his signet ring. when, however, an indication is given of the times and peoples to which these trivialities can be made to carry us back, interest is aroused to a remarkable degree. it can also be well maintained, for other clothes present similar quaint survivals for investigation, while the evolution of many individual garments is worth following, and special costumes have been handed down to the present day, practically unchanged. fortunately, the student of dress is in a much better position than the naturalist proper. the evidence available when the history of an organism in past ages is being unravelled, is very scanty in many cases. sometimes the fossil remains recovered from the earth are very perfect and follow one another in unbroken succession, but they usually consist merely of the hard parts of the creatures. the individual development of an organism is also a help, but when the changes which have taken untold ages to perfect, are repeated, as in the case of the chicken in the egg, within the space of a few short weeks, it is not surprising that much is left out and obscured. man has existed in a civilized condition for a comparatively short time, and there remain all kinds of records and illustrations, not to mention actual clothes themselves, which can be consulted or examined. moreover, primitive men in almost every stage of culture are, or were till quite lately, to be found somewhere in the world, and much can be gleaned from them as to the origin and uses of costume. there is a point that may be borne in mind when seeking for curiosities of clothing, and it is that the more special or ceremonial the occasion, the more ancient or more primitive the costume which is worn. in this connection also it may be mentioned that the dress of the master of one generation may survive as that of the servant in another. ii the origin of dress both he and his people were black as sloes for the region they lived in was torrid, and their principal clothes were a ring through the nose and a patch of red paint on the forehead. thomas hood the younger. in seeking the origin of dress we necessarily assume that once upon a time our primitive ancestors did not wear any clothes at all. even nowadays, in our own country, at sports, in the ball-room, and on the stage, the garments worn, or some of them, may be reduced to the minimum that the rules of society appear to demand. there are, moreover, two reasons why very early man did not trouble to dress: first of all, he was covered with hair like the majority of mammals; and, secondly, it is more than probable that his home was within the tropics. (see plate i., frontispiece.) the two ideas are quite compatible, for all the great apes--chimpanzee, orang-utan, and gorilla--which are the nearest relatives of man, have been found in the warmer regions of the world, and are well supplied with hair. it has long been thought that the cradle of mankind is to be looked for in the south of asia, and it is a striking fact that of recent years the bones of the earliest known creature that can with certainty be called a man (_pithecanthropus erectus_) were discovered in java.[ ] at the same time it appears that _pithecanthropus_, although it walked erect, approximated more closely to the apes than does any more recent human being, and in making a restoration of the type in question, one would feel bound to endow it with a coat of hair. this has since been lost, and, according to darwin, owing to æsthetic reasons, the members of one sex having chosen as mates those of the other who were the least hairy. man also has found his way into most parts of the globe, but he has not always acted with regard to dress in the same way in similar climates. the problem, therefore, which we have set ourselves to solve, proves to be less simple than it appeared at the outset, for great use may be made of clothes in one cold country and not in another, while they may be unknown in certain parts of the tropics, and adopted elsewhere within their radius. very often when it is sought to explain a matter, it is found that this can be done in two or three different ways, and it is quite possible that all of them may be correct. this fact may with advantage be borne in mind when seeking for the reasons which lead to the adoption of dress, for the first time, by any particular race. perhaps it will help us if we pause for a moment to consider why clothes are worn at the present day. there is no doubt but that in the case of many garments their ornamental character, real or supposed, is the first consideration. others are chosen chiefly for protection and warmth, while, as already indicated, the rest suffice to satisfy the claims of modesty. although the three reasons are now intimately combined, it is practically certain that any one of them is sufficient to have led to the adoption of clothes in the first place, and as if these were not enough there may be other contributing, if not actual causes. we may now consider these matters in detail. it would seem from the study of modern peoples, who are still in a very simple state of civilization, as well as from one of the earliest drawings scratched by the cave-men who were contemporary with the mammoth in france, that ornaments are the most primitive part of dress. (see figure and plate ii.) [illustration: a woman and a witch doctor of central africa, shewing the part that ornaments may play even when clothing is of the scantiest. (_from a photograph by captain ford._) _plate ii._] generally speaking, the more simple the race, the greater is its love of ornament. the cave-man's sketch shows a woman who is devoid of clothing, but who wears bracelets, while it is said that in the original a necklace can be traced, though owing to an injury to the fragment of bone on which the drawing was made, the head of the figure has been lost. on the west coast of africa, where clothes are not a necessity owing to the heat, bracelets are worn in such numbers by the native belles as to cover a large part of the forearm, while anklets rise in succession nearly to the knee. (see plate ii.) again, in new guinea the women of some tribes who do not indulge in a single scrap of clothing, still wear ornaments on their heads and round their necks. [illustration: figure .--drawing of a woman engraved by a cave-man. (modified from wilson.)] there is, however, something to be advanced on behalf of savages that cannot be said for white people who bedizen themselves with jewellery, or bedeck themselves with the feathers of rare and beautiful birds. uncivilized people have no pockets nor safes in which to keep their valuables, and it comes about that these take a form which permits them to be worn on the person, so that many of the objects which take the place of ornaments--such as teeth, shells, and beads--serve as the currencies of their owners. even now there are individuals of whom it is said that they "put all their money on their backs," but, unfortunately for them, it depreciates sadly in value, and cannot be turned to account at a moment's notice. furthermore, one naked warrior is very much like another, and chiefs, in order that they may easily be identified, have come to wear certain ornaments just as at the other extreme with regard to covering, knights in full armour carried crests on their helmets and other devices on their surcoats and shields. clothes proper are of later origin, and, as we have already mentioned, would only be adopted for protective purposes after man had lost the greater part of his hairy covering. it is probable that this had happened before the earliest settlers arrived in this country, although the cave-men made their drawings of themselves in the nude, and it is contended that the marks on their bodies are similar to those in the drawings of animals and are not mere attempts at shading, but indicate the presence of hair. in the first place, man was a hunter pure and simple, and his clothes were made from the hairy skins of his quarry. at the present time the eskimos are clothed in this way, and there is little doubt but that they are the descendants of the cave-men, who made the striking drawings to which we have already alluded. their implements, stature, and so forth, all point this way, and the fact that their clothes are merely adopted as a protection against the weather, is shown by the fact that they remove them altogether when in their huts. we have already said that it does not always follow that even when the climate is cold, complete dress is brought into use. when h.m.s. _beagle_ visited south america, some of the tierra del fuegians wore only an otter skin or some small scrap about as large as a pocket-handkerchief. it was laced across the breast by strings, and was shifted from side to side according to the direction of the wind. others, both men and women, wore nothing. one of the latter, who was suckling a recently born child, came alongside the vessel in a canoe, and stayed there, out of pure curiosity, while the sleet fell and thawed on her naked bosom and on the bare body of her baby.[ ] some races can make very passable clothes by hammering the fibres from the bark of trees into a kind of cloth, while when men took to husbandry and cultivated plants that produce fibres, they learned also to spin and weave materials from which to make their garments. the use of furs has always survived to a greater or less extent, but it is interesting to note that motoring has caused a return to primitive dress as regards external garments, for in order to withstand the air which is met when the car is in rapid movement, fur clothes and leather suits have been introduced, the latter of course being not quite so old in type as the former. it must not be forgotten at this point that climate is not the only enemy that man has had to face, and that armour was a development of dress, intended to preserve him from the onslaughts of his own species. we have now noticed two ways in which clothes must have been brought into use, namely, as adornments and for protection. we have still to consider the third of the obvious reasons. modesty is a habit, or one might perhaps call it equally well a fashion, which is so widespread that some have characterized it as being an instinct, and have stated quite wrongly that it is universal. the most curious point with regard to the matter is that very different ideas of modesty prevail in various regions of the world, one part of the body being covered by some people and another by others. besides, it by no means follows that a naked race is less chaste than one which is clothed. although at the present day races exist where only the men cover themselves, it is very likely that clothes worthy of the name were first worn by women, for keen observers have pointed out that men dependent on their skill and speed in the chase would hardly encumber themselves with clothes, though having comely wives they might deem it advisable for them to be protected from the public gaze. this idea is still carried out in eastern countries, where women cover even the greater part of their faces, and are usually secluded in a harem. as bearing out, however, what we have just said with regard to modesty, it may be mentioned that the peasant women in egypt are perfectly happy so long as their faces and the backs of their heads are covered, and it is considered even more shameful to expose the latter than the former. the objection made not long ago to the appearance of english women in church without hats may be remembered in this connection. painting may often replace clothing, and members of races accustomed to decorate their bodies in this way, are much ashamed if they are seen unpainted. tattooing also does away to a great extent with bareness, and it is obvious that unclothed black men and women never present such a naked appearance as do lighter-coloured races. in fact, a white man who bathed with a number of coloured people likened himself and his companions to an artificial, blanched, and sickly plant among its healthy dark green fellows. doubtless the hair of original man was coloured so as to match his surroundings, and it seems likely that the tint of his skin was reddish. we have now no need for protective colouration (except in war time), and as we do not live in the tropics, we should gain no advantage from being black; therefore pigment is but little developed in our skins, and it has been suggested that clothes sometimes have been adopted by white races for æsthetic reasons apart from their development from ordinary ornaments. it seems possible, too, that man, upon realizing that he differed from other animals in having no natural covering, set about to provide himself with one. there is, however, another contributing cause which may have led to the adoption of dress, and this depends on the action of women themselves. they may put on clothes for reasons of coquetry just as on occasion they may modify or discard them. for instance, fashion at a moment's notice may obscure one part of the body that hitherto was obvious, and at the same time emphasize the natural outlines of others which before were hidden. again, the bare necks and arms displayed in our ball-rooms afford another case in point. iii development of the modern coat the ancestral shawl--problematical buttons now that we have considered the origin of dress as a whole, we may turn with advantage to the evolution of individual garments. people are very often pleased to allude to what are called the vagaries of fashion, but it is curious to notice how little real change is made in costume at the present time. the really useful characters are always retained, and our modern clothes can be reduced to a very few types. a skirt is a skirt whether it falls naturally, is held out all round with a hoop, or crinoline, or is only supported behind by what at one time was known as an "improver." and in the same way it may be said that trousers remain trousers whether they have bell bottoms or are peg tops. even types which we recognize as being quite distinct, are often so closely related as to cause surprise when their family history is made known. although it constantly alters as regards details, which from a constructional point of view are quite unimportant, woman's dress does not seem to have varied to any very great extent. consequently, there are not quite so many curious features to be seen as in the ordinary clothes or uniforms of men. on the other hand, however, we may with greater reason hope to find that some primitive characters have survived until the present day. no article of clothing could well be simpler than the shawl, and though there is an art in its arrangement, the only point in its structure that would appear to invite attention is the presence of a fringe on only two sides. this seems to be a small matter, but it takes us straight back to the time when men had ceased to be hunters merely, and having become agriculturists had learned, as we have already indicated, to weave fibres with the help of simple looms. from the cloth thus made clothes were constructed, though skins continued to be used as outer mantles. when the stuff was taken from these early looms, the threads of the warp were left hanging from two opposite edges, and the fringe that we have now on our shawls is a direct survival of this accidental occurrence. there seems not the slightest doubt but that we can trace the coat from the shawl. a simple improvement in the latter is to join two edges of the shawl together and make a tunic. such a tubular garment was used in greece, and, with some slight modifications, is worn by egyptian women to-day. it came up to the armpits, was gathered up on to each shoulder and fastened with two brooches. (figure .) [illustration: fig. .--sketch showing the development of the tunic. in this stage it has no arms.] the next stage in development would be a sleeved tunic, and how easily this could be derived from a shawl can be seen by putting a narrow one over the shoulders and lifting up the arms as shown in figure . the material has only to be sewn together under the arms, and if necessary cut into shape. [illustration: fig. .--diagram showing the way in which a sleeved tunic is derived from the shawl.] if the front be not sewn up, we get the coat as we know it; if the edges be joined along half their length or more, then we have a sleeved tunic, a shirt, or vest (see plate iii). the smock-frock (see figure ) and gown are more voluminous, while the jersey is short again, and has only a small opening at the neck. an interesting garment is found among the costumes of the bronze age chieftains of denmark and their wives, which have been preserved in the oak coffins of these people, owing to the action of tannin from the wood which has preserved the woven material.[ ] the article in question belonged to one of the women, and though the front edges are joined for a short distance, it is practically a jacket. the sleeves are made all in one piece, and the garment is very nearly as highly evolved as the cardigan jacket, which it very much resembles. (see figure .) [illustration: the silk vest worn by charles i on the scaffold. illustrating the sleeved tunic opening for a short distance down the front. (_from a photograph by mr. henry stevens._) _plate iii._] [illustration: fig. .--a smock frock.] [illustration: fig. .--jacket of a woman, made in one piece. bronze stage of culture (after worsaae).] it is by this time clear, that several important garments are the descendants of the shawl, which is still used by men in the british isles under the title of the plaid, or maud. [illustration: fig. .--man's dress showing buttons on the right side.] though differing, of course, in detail, the upper garments of men and women agree in general construction. one of the points alluded to is worthy of mention, namely, that the buttons on a man's coat are on the right side and the buttonholes on his left, while in the case of women's attire the exact opposite is found--at least, so far as one can ascertain--in european countries. in the east, the little knobs which are passed through loops and take the place of buttons, may in the women's dress be on the right side, and in other asiatic costumes the same thing holds good. in connection with this peculiarity, it may be pointed out that men and women have different ways of doing up buttons. the man takes hold of the button with his right hand, puts his left thumb into the buttonhole and pushes the button against it. then he pulls the stuff over with his right forefinger and pushes the button through with his right thumb while he guides it with his left. [illustration: fig. .--woman's dress showing buttons on the left side.] the woman, on the other hand, puts her right thumb through the buttonhole, takes hold of the button with the fingers of the same hand, and finally, if the other hand is at liberty, brings it up to finish the process. (see figures to .) to explain the difference in the position of the buttons is not by any means easy. in the correspondence which has arisen out of lectures which the writer has given on the evolution of dress, it has, in the first place, been suggested that the arrangement of his clothing permitted a man to thrust his right and fighting arm into his jacket in order to keep it warm. this explanation, of course, does not account for the variation in the case of women. dr. lyman, of baltimore, has submitted the theory that a man wearing a loose cloak, toga, or plaid, would grasp it with the left hand and thrust the left side over the right so as to leave the right-hand free in order to hold a weapon or implement. a woman would grasp her attire with her right hand, and push it over the left side and leave her left arm unencumbered, wherewith to carry a child. it would, however, seem more natural for the right side to be pulled over the left, but it is unlikely that a man would fight in a loose cloak, and the toga was only worn in times of peace. moreover, the jacket, as we have seen, was developed from the cloak through the tunic. a tunic was worn under the toga, and as the only loose edge of the latter lies in the same way as the buttonhole side of a man's coat, it is feasible that the edges of the tunic beneath would for convenience be made to lap the same way. [illustration: fig. .--first stage. fig. .--second stage. diagrams showing how a man does up a button.] [illustration: fig. .--first stage. fig. .--second stage. diagrams showing how a woman does up a button.] to turn to women's dress, it is customary, as dr. lyman says, to carry children on the left arm, and they are allowed to suck the left breast to a greater extent than the other. the left side of a bodice could, if the right lapped over it, be pulled back without exposing so much of the person as if the reverse held good, and in the case of tightly-fitting clothing, if the buttons have to be done up with the right hand alone, the task is made easier. another interesting little point of difference between the clothes of the two sexes is, that while the buttons on a man's wristbands are on the thumb side, those of a woman are on that which corresponds with the little finger. this arrangement is no doubt correlated with that previously discussed, but the reason for it is not obvious. iv buttons as chronicles episodes in the later history of the coat and cuffs we have gained some insight into the development of garments as a whole, and no doubt it is now obvious that the little details of construction will prove by no means the least attractive part of our subject. it has become customary to refer to a button as typifying something of specially small account, though very often much may depend in practice upon one of these despised articles. we have already shown that the mere position of a few buttons that are still useful, may raise most curious points, and in the present chapter we shall proceed to investigate some episodes in the later history of the coat which have left their mark upon it, to a great extent in the shape of useless buttons. this topic will be dealt with in some detail, so that it may serve as a guide to those of our readers who may be induced to undertake the fascinating study of survivals in dress. afterwards, the general survey of modern clothes will be continued, and here and there lines of research will be indicated, while some problems will be left for our readers to solve. in the second part of the book, it is intended to deal with a certain number of costumes which have been handed down to us as they are. [illustration: fig. .--the buttons on the back of a policeman's great coat.] at the present time there are usually to be seen two buttons on the back of civilians' coats, except in the case of lounge suits and dinner jackets, and there may be four or more on the great coats of policemen (see figure ) and on the tunics of some soldiers. the first question which we will endeavour to answer is, why are they there? the two upper buttons in the case of uniforms are now used to support a belt, and at first sight it looks as if they were originally intended for this purpose. their adoption in other cases might then be put down as a survival from a time when civilians carried swords. unfortunately for this theory, it can be shown that the sword-belt was not necessarily worn outside the coat (see figures and ). we must therefore look round for further evidence, and we find that those coats which bear the pair of buttons, have a slit up the middle which gives rise to the skirts or tails. this arrangement carries us back to the time when there were no railways and few conveyances; when men commonly travelled on horseback and their whole attire was adapted to this end, so that they were ready for the saddle at a moment's notice. the division in the coat which we are considering, allowed one tail to fall conveniently on each side of the horse after its rider had mounted it. [illustration: fig. .--the buttons that close the slit up the back of an ulster.] in long overcoats of to-day we find only a short slit, left for convenience in walking (see figure ); but it has a special interest for us, as in connection with it there are two or three buttons and buttonholes, usually hidden, which allow of the opening being closed up. here, then, we have buttons on the back of the coat still serving a useful purpose, and it is not at all difficult to trace the series of fastenings back to a much longer one, which in the seventeenth century was quite obvious. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--a back view of a seventeenth-century coat showing the buttons and buttonholes.] each button and buttonhole was placed in the middle of similar pieces of lace or embroidery, so that the sides of the coat were made to look symmetrical. the object in view was the keeping of the skirts of the coat together when the wearer was not on horseback. at the present day the buttons have been duplicated and are on both sides of the coat, and they are still sewn to ornamental pieces in the uniform of the grenadier guards. the presence of the lower buttons on uniforms and coats is therefore explained. it might be assumed that the topmost button had also been doubled and raised above the slit, and that in this way we have obtained the two ornaments on the back of our coats. [illustration: fig. .--the tab and buttons on the back of a soldier's great coat which make a temporary waist.] before accepting such a solution of the problem, however, it may be well to see if the buttons may not have had another origin; and on looking for some clue we find that two folds take their rise from the point where the buttons are situated. these may be expected to throw some light upon the question. the folds are now permanent, but on a voluminous coat, such as still used by horse soldiers, they can be produced temporarily (see figure ) by setting the two buttons further apart and running a tab from one to the other. sir george darwin has attempted to carry the history of these two buttons still further back.[ ] he has expressed the opinion that each is one of a pair that originally kept in place a small tab at the side of the coat, and so helped to produce a waist when required. (see figures and .) in some drawings of coats (see figure ) the side tabs and their corresponding buttons are shown in addition to those on the back of the coat. there is, however, evidence to show that the buttons were originally on the sides of the coat, for they are so wide apart as to be to all intents and purposes in that position, on the uniform overcoats of the london electric tramway drivers. (see figure .) they may well represent the topmost buttons of the lateral series, still found on the overcoat of the members of the corps of commissionaires. in this case there are three buttons on each side, of which the middle one is used for fastening the side-pocket. [illustration: fig. .--the buttons and tab on a tramway driver's coat.] [illustration: fig. .--an eighteenth-century coat with side buttons and tab.] [illustration: fig. .--side tabs and buttons at the back (after racinet).] it is worth while to consider side-pockets, which in their turn are remnants of lateral openings which were made in coats at the end of the seventeenth and the beginning of the following centuries. the sword-handle conveniently protruded through the left-hand slit, which, like its fellow, ran from the waist to the lower margin of the coat or stopped half-way. (see figures and .) in the latter case, the arrangement very much resembles the vertical pocket which has become common again of recent years. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--a coat worn at the end of the seventeenth-century (after h. bonnart).] [illustration: fig. .--a modern coat with side pockets.] occasionally a tab, such as that to which reference has been made, kept the parts of the coat together; but often there were buttons and buttonholes, at least at the upper end of the openings. these survive in several cases, such as in the overcoat of the commissionaire, while the pocket is sometimes represented by a mere flap (see figure ) ornamented with buttons as on the livery of certain footmen. [illustration: fig. .--a footman's coat, modern, with vestigial pocket flaps.] [illustration: fig. .--coat skirts buttoned back (after hogarth).] to sum up the matter, the topmost pair of buttons has come from the fastenings of the side slit and the lower ones from those of the back slit. buttons on the skirt behind have in the meantime had a very intimate connection with the evolution of the "swallow-tail" coat (see figure ). they were used to fasten the corners of the ordinary riding-coat together, so that the linings should not be injured by the sweat of the horses. (see figure .) mr. deane butcher tells me that he can remember this buttoning back being done in the case of his uncle, when the latter rode to market or to church; but in this case it was the two uppermost buttons which were again brought into use. at dances the coats were also subjected to similar treatment, and what at first was a temporary condition afterwards became a permanent one. it is obvious that the turned-back lining would often be of a different colour from the outside of the coat, and facings on old uniforms, and in that of the present dress of a lord-lieutenant (see figure ) are derived from the practice of fastening the corners of the coat together. in the "swallow-tail" the outer corners have been cut right away. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--a coat with the skirts buttoned back and showing the lining.] [illustration: fig. .--a dress coat with skirts cut away.] the buttons, in the interesting cases which we have described, have been allowed to remain as part and parcel of our costume on account of their decorative character, and in a great measure the same is true of those on coat cuffs (see figure ). in many cases there are proper buttonholes, and it is possible to undo the sleeve buttons; but occasionally the arrangement has degenerated and the buttonholes are imitations or only the buttons remain. [illustration: fig. .--a modern coat cuff with buttons.] [illustration: fig. .--turned-back cuff, end of seventeenth century (after bonnart).] to find an explanation of this feature we shall have to go back again to the seventeenth century, when so much was expended upon coats that it became advisable to turn back the cuffs out of harm's way. to hold them in position, series of buttons and buttonholes were devised, and just as the turning back of the skirts was at first temporary and afterwards came to be done once for all when the coat was made, so the turned-back cuff grew into a permanent institution. in figure the buttons are one above the other as in modern dress, but in the next two figures ( and ) they are horizontal. [illustration: fig. .--a coat sleeve (after hogarth) with a horizontal row of buttons.] [illustration: fig. .--sleeve of a coat of the seventeenth century, reputed to have been worn by charles i.] a survival of this arrangement can still be seen in the coat sleeves of the higher clergy. in ordinary dress, the turned-back edge of the cuff may now only be represented by a band of braid or a row of stitches; but in soldiers' uniforms, an ornamented cuff persists which represents in reality the lining of the sleeve. again, the turned-back cuff is actually present in the clothes of costermongers, and has been revived on overcoats to a considerable extent during the last few years. (see figure .) as a rule, too, the vertical pocket already described accompanies the turned-back cuff, as it did some centuries ago. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--the turned-back cuff on an overcoat, modern.] [illustration: fig. .--a sleeve with vertical buttons and a turned-back cuff as well (from a uniform, after hogarth).] it must not be forgotten that buttons have long been used on narrow sleeves. they are undone when the hand is to be pushed through the cuff, and afterwards fastened for the sake of warmth or to give a neat appearance. it is therefore possible that the ring of buttons is more properly a survival of the time when cuffs were turned back to preserve them, and that the vertical row is really of earlier origin. a uniform represented by hogarth (figure ) shows both the row of buttons and the turned-back cuff, which seems to be quite independent of them. in this instance we may have the degenerated turned-back cuff and one revived, shown together. such a case, we need scarcely point out, could hardly occur in the case of an animal structure, for if by a "throw back" or "reversion to type" we get a vestigial character once more fully reproduced, we cannot expect the original structure and the vestige to be shown at the same time. the adoption of buttons more or less for ornament has long been practised. john brandon, who died in the year , is shown on his brass (in the church of st. mary, king's lynn) with no less than forty buttons on the sleeves of his undervest, which has embroidered cuffs and is buttoned to the elbow (see plate iv). we shall, however, have something more to say with regard to buttons from this and other points of view as we proceed. [illustration: reproduction of a brass to john brandon and his two wives, in the church of st. mary, king's lynn. date . on the male figure a continuous row of buttons runs from the wrist to the elbow of the under vest. the women wear the wimple and the gorget or throat cloth. _plate iv._] an interesting case of superfluous buttons on the front of clothes is to be seen in the case of the short jackets of the postilions, belonging to his majesty the king. there is a useful row down the middle which closes the garment, and two ornamental rows which start from each shoulder and curve downwards towards the middle row. these are probably vestiges of buttons that were once of use, and to seek an explanation it might be well to study some uniforms of the past. we shall find that in the eighteenth century it was customary to button back the revers of the uniform coat, as in the case of the french coast-guard officer of . (see figure .) fashion afterwards decreed that the coats should be fastened again with hooks, but the two rows of buttons remained. [illustration: fig. .--the uniform of a coast-guard officer of (after racinet).] in the coat of the postilion there is no trace of the revers which showed the lining, and were consequently of a different colour from the rest of the coat. we find, however, in the peculiar uniform of the lancers that there are the two side rows of buttons, to which is fastened a red front. this appears to represent the two revers combined. in the present year, , a number of ladies' dresses are to be seen in which the revers trimmed with a different material from the dress are buttoned back against the latter. in some ceremonial dresses and uniforms there are cross stripes on the breast (see figure ) which, it has been pointed out, represent series of buttonholes which have become hypertrophied, and are now exaggerated beyond recognition. the braid on the cuff of the london scottish volunteers seems also to represent buttonholes. such features as turned-back cuffs occur in women's clothes, and, as we have seen, the arrangement of buttons may be copied from masculine attire. in other cases buttons seem to appear which have, it would seem, no hereditary right to their position; but it may be well, before dismissing them, to see whether they have not a pedigree. we might cite the case of the buttons that are sewn on to the frocks a little below the knee. they are often at the head of a plait, and it would be worth while to look into their history. v collars and bands nicks in coat lapels--the why and wherefore of the white shirt front let us carry on our work of dissecting the clothes of a modern man, and as we once more survey our subject, we may glance a little higher than heretofore, until our eyes rest upon the collar of his coat. this structure passes into the lapels, and at the point of junction there is a curious nick which is repeated in the waistcoat if this be similarly provided with lapels. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--the nicks in the coat and waistcoat.] [illustration: fig. .--a stage when the nick was useful (lucien bonaparte, after paul lacroix).] there is always a temptation to invent some interesting theory in order to explain the origin of vestiges, and a penny paper, which hardly boasts of scientific accuracy, not long ago informed its readers that the slit in the coat lapel is the outcome of a "unique and beautiful custom among the orthodox jews," for in former days, when death visited a jew's household, he cut the lapel of his coat. it was undoubtedly a custom of the jews to rend their garments, but it does not, on the face of it, seem likely that the practice would have influenced modern costume. it would appear, however, that the slit in the lapel has a much more prosaic origin, and owes its existence rather to a practical requirement than to a sentimental observance. when the collar of a coat is made to stand up, it is absolutely necessary that a piece should be cut out of the cloth, or the lapel will not lie down. in the exaggerated garment of which we give an illustration (see figure ) this need is most manifest; but a moment's thought will show that the provision must be made, even if the collar be small. a trifling experiment will indicate that at the present day the cut is not usually made deep enough to allow of the collar being turned up without disturbing the lapels. [illustration: fig. .--the "toothpick" on a dress coat.] another remarkable variation is to be found in the collars of some dress suits. a little point is left on the collar known to tailors as the "toothpick," which runs across the nick into the lapel (see figure ). this structure is probably a survival of some particular kind of collar. it might be pointed out here that the facings and collar that are of silk or velvet represent the lining of the coat which came into view when the collar was turned down and the lapels turned back. the case is quite similar to that of the cuffs on uniforms, and to be quite consistent, the whole coat should be lined with what is usually used now only as a kind of trimming. it is but a short step from the features that we have been discussing, to the linen collar and the shirt front. the cutting away of the outer garment to bring the shirt into view is a relic of the time when only those who were very well to do could afford to wear linen, and they showed it, in order to indicate their social position, or at any rate their financial resources. at the same time, the women cut their dresses low so as to show their underlinen; and not content with this, they further, at the end of the thirteenth century, slit their gowns from the armpits to the hips. the openings thus made were laced across, so that the linen garments beneath could easily be seen. the white shirt has long survived, and in spite of its depreciated value has up to quite recently posed as a badge of respectability. now at last there are signs that its sway is over, and that soon it will come to be only a garment of ceremony. the linen collar of to-day is quite a small affair compared with some of its forerunners. an interesting relic is to be seen in the two little linen flaps which we call bands (see figure ). these are still worn by preachers in conjunction with the geneva gown, by barristers, and by blue-coat boys (see figure ), and we can easily trace their relationship to the collar. until a few years ago the choristers at jesus college, cambridge, wore a peculiar collar which ended in two flaps much resembling bands, and the descent of this from the large structures which were called falling bands is not difficult to trace. [illustration: fig. .--modern bands.] [illustration: fig. .--a blue-coat boy's bands.] [illustration: fig. .--a chorister of jesus college, cambridge, showing the collar worn until recently. (from a photograph by the courtesy of mr. h. austin wheaton.)] the portrait of jan steen, which we reproduce, shows bands which are less stiff and formal, but of ampler proportions. (see figure .) going a little further back, we find the collar that covered the shoulders, such as milton wore, and which is shown in our picture of john pym. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--a stage in the reduction of the bands (portrait of jan steen from the _illustrated magazine of art_).] [illustration: fig. .--full-sized bands (portrait of john pym from the _illustrated magazine of art_).] at this point we may pause to recall a simple article which is known as a bandbox, but which has been diverted from its original purpose of holding bands, and is now commonly used as a receptacle for hats. though not itself part of dress, the bandbox furnishes an interesting instance of adaptation to circumstances. it was well suited to contain articles of dress other than those for which it was primarily intended, and hence it has survived in the struggle for existence. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--a modern bandbox, now used for hats.] [illustration: fig. .--bands that survive at the present day.] we must not, however, jump to the conclusion that bands are now only represented by vestiges, for they are still to be seen in their full glory on very small boys (see figure ), and the writer recalls a lad of fourteen or so who had reached the dignity of trousers who wore the same kind of collar. as he also had a trencher, or in common parlance, a "mortar-board," it is possible that he was not an isolated survival, but belonged to some school which adopted a special costume. as linen collars are one of the articles of dress in regard to which the wearer is allowed in a great measure to follow his own taste, it is not surprising that a great many forms have from time to time been invented. quite a number are still to be seen here and there, while the development of the more fashionable shapes one from the other would, in itself, form a chapter in the evolution of dress. the clerical collar may be singled out, as it fastens behind like the bands, though the reason for this is not at all obvious. in recalling the great ruffs and expanded collars of queen elizabeth's reign, one may be inclined to smile at the lengths to which a fad may be carried, and the curious, not to say monstrous, structures that are its culminations. these, like the huge creatures of bygone ages, die out, but differ in this respect that they sometimes revive for a time. for instance, only a few years have passed since the collars of ladies' mantles stood up round the back of their heads; but as the collars usually lacked the decoration and colour of the elizabethan period, they appeared as if they were intended merely to keep the draught from the necks of their wearers, and they did not last for long. vi vestiges in the hat how hats were evolved--why plumes are on the left side--the growth of the busby--helmets and cocked hats those who have written upon dress from an artistic point of view have recognized that costume and architecture are affected by the same influences. when we come to the hat, we find that its name is connected with a building of a primitive character, namely, a hut. mr. allan poe newcombe, an architect, some years ago pointed out the curious resemblance which has existed, and is still to be found in many countries, between headgear and habitations or other buildings.[ ] it may be that the cases which have been collected together are mere coincidences, though it must be allowed that they are both numerous and striking. it may be that the same taste, or lack of it, has given rise to the similarity of style, or in the beginning, the designer of the hat may have taken the hut as a model. in the hawaiian islands, long before the inhabitants troubled about clothes, they built themselves grass houses, and at the present time the characteristic hawaiian hat is remarkably like the hut. the turbans of eastern church dignitaries are still of the same shape as those worn by the high priests among the jews, and are remarkably like the characteristic dome which surmounts a mosque. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--the turban of a jewish priest (after kitto) compared with the dome of the mosque of omar.] looking about in other countries we shall find further instances that support mr. newcombe's contention; our illustration of a siamese head-dress and building is a case in point. (see figure .) again going back into european history, we find that the high pointed spires of gothic churches were cotemporaneous with the high horn-like head-dress known as the hennin (see figure ). it is claimed, moreover, that like results will be found after a comparison of other styles of architecture with the costume of the period in which they flourished. [illustration: fig. .--a siamese head-dress and a pra pang or votive spire (after p.a. thompson).] [illustration: fig. .--a gothic spire (st. stephen's, caen) compared with the hennin (the latter after fairholt).] leaving this suggestive line of research, and coming to hats as we have them at the present day, we find that they offer several remarkable vestiges for our consideration. first of all there is the hat-band outside, which sometimes ends in two tails or streamers that hang from the back of the hat (see figure ). from the bow usually present it is evident that the hat-band was tied, and the streamers represent the loose ends. as a matter of fact, primitively, a head-dress was made from a piece of cloth, round which a fillet was tied so that it fitted the head. in this connexion figure is most interesting. it represents the back view of the head of the egyptian woman of the sixth dynasty, who is seen in figure , and shows a head-dress which is confined with a fillet that is tied at the back so as to make two tails. [illustration: fig. .--band with streamers fastening on the head-dress of an egyptian woman. from a figure of the sixth dynasty, b.c. .] [illustration: fig. .--a lady's head-dress confined with a fillet, fourteenth century (after viollet le duc).] the modern arab fastens his kefiyeh with a twist of camel's hair without streamers, and the lady of the fourteenth century, shown in figure , has also an ordinary band. the child's sailor hat and the scotch cap are among the modern head coverings which retain the strings (figure ). a twelfth-century head-dress shown in a manuscript (figure ) has a great similarity to the scotch cap, as the band forms a kind of binding to the article in both cases, and there are streamers to both. [illustration: fig. .--a sailor hat with band and streamers.] [illustration: fig. .--a twelfth-century head-dress with streamers from a ms. (after viollet le duc).] the strings or streamers are to be found in many other head coverings, including the mitres of bishops (see figure ). the particular mitre illustrated is that of the see of durham, which is distinguished from others in being plumed. [illustration: fig. .--a modern scotch cap with streamers.] [illustration: fig. .--a mitre of the see of durham showing the strings (after millington).] an interesting suggestion as to the origin of the slit in the top of the mitre may be mentioned here. head-dresses were used in very early times which were in the form of a fish's head, and it has been thought that the slit in the mitre, so distinctly shown in chess-men, represents the fish's mouth. on looking at the inside of a modern hat, a little bow of silk ribbon will usually be found at the back where the two edges of the leather lining meet. here, again, is a vestige. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--small vestigial bow of ribbon in a modern hat.] in some hats the ribbon does not simply make the bow, but it is threaded through a greater or less number of holes in the leather, though now fulfilling no useful purpose. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--a hat with the remains of lacing.] in a hunting hat, however (see figure ), the lacing is continuous round the hat, and the lining can be made to fit the wearer. it helps to form a buffer, should the huntsman unfortunately fall on his head, and it is claimed that many lives have been saved by this small detail. [illustration: fig. .--a hunting hat with complete lacing inside.] it may be gathered from the description that in times when hats could not easily be got to fit their wearers, the lacing inside would be most useful, as it ensured that the size could be adjusted. it is possible also that in the lacing we have a means by which a hat was originally shaped, and that the lace is really a hat-band threaded through the material of the head-dress instead of being tied round outside. the first diagram on page shows a flat piece of leather cut into a circular form; the next shows it perforated and a lace put through the openings; the third indicates how by tightening the string a crown could be made to the hat. [illustration: fig. .--a disc of leather.] [illustration: fig. .--the disc perforated and the lace inserted.] [illustration: fig. .--the lace tightened to form a crown.] [illustration: fig. .--the ends of the lace tied as a bow inside.] in time, when the crown was made in different ways, it would be easy to transfer the lacing to the lining as seen already in the hunting hat (figure ). it is interesting to note that a small bow is also found inside ladies' hats, and often used as a place on which to put the name of the maker. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--a bow fastened to the lining of a lady's hat.] [illustration: fig. .--plumes on the left side.] sir george darwin has shown why plumes are, and used to be, on the left side of a hat only. in the days when the feathers were particularly long there was also plenty of fighting, and it only needs the attention to be drawn to the point, to make one realize that if the plume had been on the right side, it might often have got in the way of a sword and thereby caused the overthrow or even death of its wearer. at the present day in the army (see figure ), the plumes will be found on the left side as in the days of cavaliers. sir george darwin[ ] has traced the origin of the busby, and has shown that the little red flap that hangs on the left side as a useless appendage is really the original cap. busbies were the special attributes of the hussars, who were originally hungarian soldiers. it is the peasant's cap of hungary that is the forerunner of the military head-dress which we are considering, and it consisted of a red cap of cloth with a band of fur round the edge. as time went on, the fur on the cap, which was adopted in the end by various regiments, became wider and wider, and the original red cap got smaller and smaller until the form of the modern busby was reached. in some cases even the flap already mentioned has gone, though the fact that the top of the busby is made of cloth instead of fur still points to its origin. (see figures and .) [illustration: fig. .--the red hungarian cap, which was the forerunner of the busby.] [illustration: fig. .--a busby (of the honourable artillery company) in which the cap is a vestige only.] though we are not discussing armour at the moment, we may say while speaking of military head-dresses that metal helmets are still in use in a few regiments. the helmet also of the fireman deserves attention, as it is practically of the same type as that worn by the ancient greeks. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--a fireman's helmet (of the ancient greek type).] [illustration: fig. .--buttons so arranged that the broad brim of a hat can be fastened to the crown, thus forming a temporary "cock" (hudibras after hogarth).] the cocked hat should also claim our attention, and it gives us another instance of temporary alterations which have ultimately become permanent. the picture of hudibras shows an early stage in the history of cocking. the strings which connect the brim of a bishop's tall hat to the crown are evidently connected with this practice. in the modern cocked hat more of the right side is turned up than of the left. a little careful examination will render its development from the broad-brimmed hat easily understood, while the representatives of the hat-band and the details of the cocking will be soon discovered. the cock of the hat formed a convenient spot in which to fix an ornament, and the name cockade has come to be applied to such an addition, borne on the hat, as a mark to distinguish the wearer. the part which cockades have played in history is considerable, but as they are now chiefly associated with the liveries of men-servants they will be considered later on in the book. before, however, we leave, for the present, the subject of head coverings, we ought to mention that a piece of woven material as primitively used without even a restraining band, still survives in the shape of the small shawl which north-country girls and women very generally wear over their heads. the head-dress of the nun is another case in point, and recalls that in vogue in tudor times, while the sun-bonnet of the barge and market women, though more highly developed, still consists to a considerable extent of simple drapery. vii shoes and stockings early foot-gear--the origin of the clock--a modern imitation of tattooing--gaily coloured garters many persons still go barefoot, so that ancient as foot-gear may be, the stage preceding its adoption is even now represented. moreover, sandals, which are very primitive, have been much in use of recent years, and have especially been worn by children. if we turn to ordinary boots and shoes we shall not find many obvious points about them which lead up to their history. still we shall see in the case of a large number that in places where one piece of leather laps over another, it is perforated with rows of holes which form a kind of simple ornamentation. (see figure .) the perforations do not go through the boot or shoe, and in a roman example in the british museum, which is much more highly decorated, there are two thicknesses of leather, of which the outer one only is pierced. (see figure .) in many cases, however, the roman shoe was truly of open work. it consisted of but one thickness of leather, and from this, large pieces were cut out so as to make a kind of lattice. several examples of this kind of shoe are exhibited at the british museum, and we give an illustration of one of these, which is in a very fair state of preservation. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--a modern boot decorated with perforations made in the leather.] [illustration: fig. .--an ornamented roman shoe, of two thicknesses.] [illustration: fig. .--a roman shoe of open-work leather.] it seems very probable that the ornamentation on our modern shoes is a survival of the open work which was in favour with the romans, especially as even then the apertures did not always expose the foot. in pre-roman times in this country there were perforations in some of the shoes which were useful rather than ornamental, and one type (of which a specimen figured by fairholt is preserved by the royal irish academy) has survived until recently, if it is not to be found to-day, in scotland and ireland. this shoe was made of raw hide (see figure ), and the holes, it is said, were intended to allow the water to pass through when the wearer was crossing morasses. an examination of the figure will, however, show that the holes are really slits, and it would appear that however useful they may have proved in the way described, they were originally made for quite a different reason. [illustration: fig. .--a hide shoe of pre-roman type from ireland (after fairholt).] the most primitive kind of shoe would doubtless be a piece of hide placed under the foot and brought up over the toes and round the heel. it would make a rather unprepossessing bundle, and there would be awkward puckers where the hide was gathered up. if the superfluous material at the toe were cut away, we should have a slit in every case where there had previously been a fold. this state of affairs is exactly what is to be seen in the irish shoe, where the strips of leather that are left are held in place by a thong. in an ingenious way, apparently with the help of the same lace, the difficulty of securing a fit at the heel has also been got over. the result is a very neat shoe indeed, though in reality it is only the original flat piece of hide. [illustration: fig. .--the original top boot with the upper part temporarily turned down.] one of the most perfect instances of vestiges, as sir george darwin points out, is afforded by top boots. in their original form, still to be seen in our streets on sewer men, the boots were made to come above the knee, but fashion decreed that the top should be turned back (see figure ), and so it came about that the inside became visible, as did also the tags, with the help of which the boots were pulled on. when the outside of the boots was blacked it would form a distinct contrast to the inside, which remained brown, and in modern top boots the difference in colour has been in many cases greatly accentuated. indeed, the upper parts are made of different leather, and as ordinary coat cuffs are now incapable of being turned down, the tops of the boots are immovable and cannot be turned up. it is curious, however, that the tags at the sides are still represented and sewn to the boot so as to be quite useless, while new tags placed inside the boot now do their duty. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--a modern top boot in which the upper part can no longer be turned up.] [illustration: fig. .--puttees.] socks and stockings are, at the present time, the most usual coverings for the lower parts of the legs, and there is at least one vestige which remains in their structure that has an interest for us. before we consider this, however, we may look at another means of protecting the lower extremities which tells of more primitive conditions. the leg bandages so commonly worn by our regular soldiers and volunteers are the case in point. (see figure .) these appear to have been immediately derived from the indian army, and their name--"puttees"--is evidence of this; but such an arrangement is very widespread, and was that generally adopted in this country in anglo-saxon times. our illustration is taken from an illuminated manuscript prepared for st. aethelwold for use at winchester, which was completed between the years and a.d. bandaged stockings are common on representations of anglo-saxons, but according to fairholt the example given shows them to greater advantage than does any other known. the figure in question is dressed in royal costume, and the bandages, which are of gold, are fastened just below the knee with a knot from which hang tassels. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--leg bandages of a royal personage at the end of the tenth century (after fairholt).] it has been thought that leg bandages were originally derived from the haybands which peasants wrap round their legs, and the writer has seen it stated that ostlers in this country still perpetuate the anglo-saxon fashion, though he has never met with an actual instance. the pfiferari who some years ago used to play on bagpipes and other primitive instruments in our streets, wore leg bandages or loose linen stockings, and these were cross-gartered with bands which held in place a simple sandal made of a piece of leather. [illustration: fig. .--a stocking with clocks.] the vestige in modern stockings to which allusion has been made is very often present, and takes the form of the ornament which we know as a "clock." the name signifies a gusset, and in modern socks and so on, which are woven or knitted all in one piece, no such arrangement is to be found. stockings, however, like those at first worn by queen elizabeth, and used at least by american settlers until the year , were made up from pieces of cloth. in these there would be seams down the sides, and it is possible that where the ornamental lines meet in figure there may have been a gusset. in any case, it is evident that the intention of the clock was to hide the side seams. of recent years, when ladies have most sensibly adopted short skirts, the clock has developed into a series of embroidered patterns which cover the front of the foot and ankle. the parentage of these is quite evident from the shape, which is shown in figure . [illustration: fig. .--an embroidered stocking showing the further evolution of the clock (date ).] [illustration: fig. .--an open-work stocking of .] this ornamentation has been carried still further, though it is not produced in the same way. the patterns, instead of being embroidered, are the result of perforations, or, in more technical language, "open-work," and the background which shows up the design is no longer the material of the stockings, but the skin of their fair wearers. (see figure .) in many cases the stockings are dark in colour, and the effect of tattooing is produced without the preliminary pain and inconvenience. we have here an instance of the way in which the specially human instinct of decorating the body persists, and at the same time a development of the fashion for displaying, in the daytime under a thin veil of gauze or lace, the necks and arms which since the time of our grandmothers have only been allowed to appear uncovered in the evening. leather stockings were once worn, for example, by william penn, and they and the leggings of to-day may be a direct survival from the time when our ancestors, though still wearing skins, had learnt to dress them. leggings, as such, are possibly connected more closely with the protection of man against man than with that of man against the weather, and in that case their history is bound up with that of armour. gaiters, under the name of spatter-dashes, were originally part of a soldier's uniform. to-day, when worn by civilians in ordinary dress, they are quite short, and go by the contracted name of "spats." pedestrians still wear the full-sized gaiters in conjunction with knickerbockers, and white gaiters are a feature of highland regiments. long florentine hose, which practically took the place of trousers and stockings together, are now represented by what are called "tights," and are to be seen in the dress of acrobats. we shall allude to these again. garters when visible on men's legs become very ornamental, and one in use now, merely as a decoration, gave its name to the celebrated order of knighthood, among the insignia of which it is still to be found. at the present day garters are hidden, and there is a tendency for them to be replaced by more comfortable straps or "suspenders," but those which ladies wear still retain their gaudy character. in this connection an interesting ceremony may be mentioned, which is carried in haute-vienne on the day of st. eutropius. all the girls of the neighbourhood troop to the church dedicated to the saint at st. junien-les-gombes, and each damsel hangs her left garter on the cross hard by, which becomes so smothered with garters of different colours that when seen from a short distance it looks as if it were covered with flowers. viii petticoats and trousers the belted plaid and kilt--early skirts--the antiquity of trousers--trouser stripes we were at some pains to trace the evolution of the coat from the shawl, and it is possible also to show that the petticoat, and through this even trousers, have equal claims to the same ancestry. the plaid as we saw it in chapter iii is only a shawl, and at one time in scotland it was used as a covering for practically the whole of the person. it was ingeniously disposed, and part of it was fastened by a belt round the waist so as to form a kind of kilt or petticoat. hence arose the name of belted plaid. it seems to have needed a considerable amount of practice to put on this garment properly, and the method customarily adopted by the wearer was to spread the plaid on the ground and, after duly arranging it in its proper folds, to lie down upon it and fix it with the belt. some races seem to have recognized very much earlier that it would be more convenient to separate the kilt from the upper garment. in fact, if we examine the woven garments which the danish chieftain wore under his deer-skin cloak, at a time before the use of iron had spread to western europe, we find that round his loins he had a small shawl held in place by a girdle. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--a shawl used as a kilt by a chieftain of denmark in the bronze stage of culture (after worsaae).] the next stage in the evolution of the petticoat would be characterized by the permanent joining of the edges of the cloth, so that a garment would be formed which resembled the lower part of the tubular tunic which played its part in the evolution of the shirt or coat. such a state of affairs is to be seen in the simple skirt of the danish chieftainess whose bodice we have already described. (see page .) here the petticoat was not shaped in any way at the top, but was gathered in round the waist and fastened as in the case of the man with a girdle. [illustration: fig. .--a simple dress in the form of a petticoat from an egyptian figure of the sixth dynasty ( b.c.), from the myers collection in eton college museum.] in a warm climate it would be easy to dispense with a covering for the upper part of the body, and one of the simplest dresses imaginable was adopted in ancient egypt. this costume is to be seen on the figure of a woman belonging to the sixth dynasty ( b.c.), which we have already mentioned when tracing the development of the hat-band and ribbons. (see figure .) in this instance there is a simple tight-fitting skirt reaching to the waist or a little above it, which is supported by two straps passing between the bare breasts and over the otherwise naked shoulders. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--a korean servant (after hough).] it seems certain, as in the original carving the woman is shown with a burden on her head and in the act of driving a calf before her, that she is a representative of the peasant class. in the korea at the present day, women of the lower orders, although they adopt a jacket which covers their arms and shoulders, wear so short an one that as there is no garment beneath it leaves their breasts quite bare. (see figure .) such an arrangement would obviously facilitate the nursing of children, and this fact has been advanced as the reason for its adoption. still it may be merely a fashion such as some women, at the other end of the social scale, once adopted in our non-tropical country. in the time of james i of england, the noble ladies, while they wore an exaggerated ruff round their necks, nevertheless had their dresses cut away from just below it almost to their waists. [illustration: fig. .--a short kilt.] the short kilt now worn in scotland represents the lower part of the belted plaid, and is in fact a petticoat and specially interesting, seeing that it is a survival of this type as a man's garment. of the origin of the sporran which is worn in front of the kilt, little seems to be known, and though it recalls to mind the time when men were clothed in skins, it forms a pouch as well as an ornament, and possibly also may have been useful as a protection. (see figure .) having once derived the petticoat, however, from the ancestral shawl, it is a very simple matter to proceed and evolve a pair of trousers. as a matter of fact, the eastern women, when they fasten their petticoats between their ankles for convenience in walking, demonstrate the first stage in the production of bifurcated garments. a single row of stitches will give rise to a kind of divided skirt, while two seams and a single cut made between, and parallel, to them, will produce a pair of trousers. it would be strange if so simple a process, which under many conditions results in such a great improvement, had not been put into practice in very early times, and trousers, although they seem to typify the ugliness of modern costume, are in reality surrounded by a halo of antiquity. it is only right, however, to point out that these tubular garments were in olden days not associated with the highest civilization. the romans, for instance, did not wear trousers, though the nations whom they were pleased to call barbarians, did. some of the enemies of rome are shown on trajan's column wearing nether garments of the kind most familiar to us, and our illustration is taken from the representation of a barbarian soldier carved on an ivory diptych of st. paul. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--a barbarian soldier wearing characteristic trousers (from a diptych of st. paul, after marriott).] the kilt is sometimes called the garb of old gaul, but one province of the latter owes its name--gallia braccata--to the custom among its inhabitants of wearing braccæ or breeches. in our own country trousers were in vogue before the advent of the roman conquerors, and though for a time the dress of the invaders was adopted by those who followed their fashions, we find that in the time of the saxons and normans the barbarian style found favour once more. in the picture of a saxon fighting man (see figure ), we see that he wears trousers that somewhat recall those of the modern sailor, and there seem to have been many different styles even in those early days. [illustration: fig. .--a saxon military man wearing wide trousers (from the harleian ms., no. , after fairholt).] during the course of our history, long trousers went out of fashion for a very considerable period, though knee-breeches of various kinds flourished from time to time, until recently, when the original and less elegant garment once more triumphed and became part of the everyday dress of men. boys still wear knickerbockers in one stage of their development, intermediate between the doffing of the petticoat and the donning of the trouser, and there is a tendency, that does not diminish, for the shorter garments to be used by men of all ages when they are not occupied with formal business. [illustration: fig. .--a peasant woman of champéry wearing trousers.] trousers are often wrongly thought to be a modern invention, and it is easy to go away with the idea that they are exclusively the attributes of men. this is far from being the case, and as in scotland we find the petticoat still in use by men, so in france and switzerland (see figure ) we see the peasant woman wearing trousers of the ordinary type, to say nothing of oriental countries like persia and siam (see plate v), where trousers form part of the dress of women even of the highest rank. [illustration: a siamese princess, shewing the trousers worn by women of high rank. _plate v._] we must not forget the energetic crusade which is being carried on in this country in favour of "rational dress" for women, on lines which are more sensible than those laid down by mrs. bloomer, whose name has been immortalized in connection with divided garments for women. it is not intended, at the moment, to enter into a discussion of the advantages that may be gained by banishing the skirt, as we shall consider clothes, from the point of view of their effect upon the body, in a later chapter. suffice it to say that the ugly clothes worn a few years ago by lady bicyclists who, while adopting divided garments, tried to make them look like a skirt, did much to hinder the "rational dress" movement. [illustration: fig. .--a german hussar of .] there is one vestige in connection with trousers that we may mention before leaving this subject, and that is the stripes which are to be seen on many official dresses, and which have been adopted by some men in their evening dress of recent years. it seems that this takes us back to a row of buttons which were once used along the whole length of the breeches when these were too tight for the foot to be put through them, and in consequence they had to be undone and done up again along the side of the leg. (see figure .) there is little doubt but that the stripe represents a fold of cloth that in some cases covered up these buttons. just a few of such buttons are still to be seen on riding breeches and those worn by liveried servants. ix coats of arms signet rings--armorial bearings--escutcheons--crests--badges before we deal with coverings for the hand, it will not be amiss to consider something else which is worn on the fingers. strictly speaking, of course, rings should be reckoned as ornaments, but signet rings very often bear upon them the crest or coat of arms of their wearer, and thus we have still carried on the person at the present day, a small and inconspicuous vestige of what were once most important articles of costume. in fact, they had a significance as great if not greater than any others, for when the face of their wearer was hidden by his helmet, they told to those well versed in heraldry not only his name but his lineage. the crest was worn on the helmet, and might or might not be one of the devices or charges embroidered on the surcoat,--which was worn over the armour--and emblazoned on the shield and elsewhere. at the present day, except in the case of ceremonial dress such as the tabards of heralds, the only survivals are the crest and shield. the devices on the latter are now called a coat of arms, as in olden times they were, as already indicated, merely a repetition of those actually worn on the dress or coat armour. let us compare for a moment the first two figures which illustrate this chapter. in the first (see figure ) we have a tiny device engraved on a ring that is worn on the little finger of the left hand. in the second (see figure ) we have sir geoffrey loutterell mounted on his charger in the act of receiving his helmet and shield from some of the ladies belonging to his family. all of the figures and the horse are decorated with armorial bearings. we wonder whether there could be a greater contrast. the knight has what is really his surcoat on his back displaying six martlets with a bend between them. the charges are repeated on a small square shield on his shoulder called an ailette, which was used apparently more as an ornament than as a protection, though it is said that ailettes were originally intended as a defence for the neck. sir geoffrey holds his helmet, on which, in the place of the crest, we again see his armorial bearings. they appear again on the pavon or small flag held by one of the ladies, and on the shield which the other carries. we find the same devices repeated five times on the trappings of his charger; and as if this were not enough, the ladies also have the bearings on their dresses. in the case of lady loutterell, who was the daughter of sir richard sutton, there is shown also the lion rampant borne by her father. [illustration: fig. .--the crest on a modern signet ring.] [illustration: fig. .--sir geoffrey loutterell and the ladies of his family, showing the extent to which armorial bearings were worn in the middle of the fourteenth century. from a psalter, made for sir geoffrey (after fairholt).] we give another illustration taken from the effigy of henry, the first duke of lancaster, on a brass at elsyng, in norfolk. (see figure .) on this figure the surcoat is very well shown, and on it are emblazoned the three lions (or leopards) of the royal arms of england. it is interesting, too, owing to the label which differences the arms and shows that the wearer was not the king himself. the label takes the form of three vertical bars joined by a horizontal one, and is like that which may be seen to-day on the prince of wales's banner in st. george's chapel at windsor. in this illustration, too (figure ), the crest is very well shown. [illustration: fig. .--the crest and surcoat of henry, first duke of lancaster, a.d. . from the brass to sir hugh hasting at elsyng, norfolk (after charles boutell).] armorial bearings are still used to a considerable extent in architecture, but otherwise they are chiefly confined to notepaper, carriage panels, and harness. occasionally hatchments, or more properly achievements, are put upon the fronts of the houses of important people on the death of a member of the family, and afterwards transferred to the church in which the body is buried. the hatchment consists of the arms of the deceased person, painted on a lozenge-shaped field, which is surrounded by a black frame, and if it indicates the death of a husband, the right half of the field is sable (black), the left, argent (silver). if it is a wife that is dead, the colours on the field are reversed. when a widower, widow, or unmarried person dies, the whole of the field is made black. in olden times the actual helmet, surcoat, and shield were carried at the funeral, and in some instances these were deposited over the tomb of the deceased. examples survive to the present day, and one of the most interesting cases is to be found in canterbury cathedral, where the shield, helmet, and surcoat of edward the black prince are still to be seen. (see figures , , and .) the black prince left most careful instructions in his will with regard to his funeral, and the accoutrements which we are able to figure through the kindness of the society of antiquaries, were the "arms of war," as he called them, that were to be carried at the ceremony. his "arms of peace" consisted of his ostrich feather badge, of which we shall again speak. there are traces on the crest and surcoat of a label to distinguish them, but this is absent from the shield, though it occurs on the arms many times repeated on the tomb, alternately with the feather badge already mentioned. [illustration: fig. .--the helmet and crest of the black prince. from "vetusta monumenta" (after st. john hope).] [illustration: fig. .--the shield of the black prince. from "vetusta monumenta" (after st. john hope).] [illustration: fig. .--the surcoat or jupon of the black prince. from "vetusta monumenta" (after st. john hope).] with the exception of the signet rings and the ceremonial dress, which were alluded to at the beginning of the chapter, there are now but few cases where armorial bearings are worn on the person. school and college arms are embroidered on the breast pockets of blazers and on the fronts of caps, while perhaps the most common instances are the devices which we see on the buttons of servants. whole coats of arms may appear, but usually it is the crest of the master, which has now taken the place of the household badge which the retainers wore in olden times. there is a difference generally between a crest and a badge, though in some cases the badge was really a crest. this was so before armorial bearings became hereditary, for the badge which the knight wore on his helmet formed its crest. afterwards the same device was handed down to generation from generation. individuals, possibly with a view of hiding their identity, sometimes wore a special badge instead of their family crest; but the badge as generally understood was, as has already been indicated, worn by the retainers and was usually chosen by each head of the family. the matter is further complicated, because badges were sometimes hereditary and occasionally identical with the crest proper. it is of course only the hereditary badges which have survived to the present day, and in only one or two cases are they apparently still used as such, though occasionally they survive for other purposes. the prince of wales's feathers we have already mentioned. they were not adopted by the black prince for the reasons usually given in history, as there is nothing to show that the king of the bohemians ever wore them, and long before his time an ostrich feather was often used as a royal badge in england. on his carriage, the marquis of abergavenny wears his badges, a rose and a portcullis, one on each side of his crest, and there are interesting cases here and there of badges worn as part of a livery. the porters of the inner temple wear the pascal lamb in silver. watermen still have badges on their arms, and not very long ago the private firemen of the insurance companies wore badges bearing the sign of the company. when speaking of signs, it is worthy of note that very many royal badges have furnished signs for inns. we cannot go into details, but we may mention the white hart of richard ii, the falcon and fetterlock of henry vii, now degenerated into the hawk and buckle, and the rose and crown also used by the tudors. those who chance to see the dress of our convicts will hardly be inclined to associate it in any way with that of royalty. yet it is true, nevertheless, that the broad arrow which marks--we can hardly say adorns--the garments of the penitentiary, is in reality a royal badge. the broad arrow can be traced to an ancient symbol consisting of three converging rods or rays of light used by the druids, and it was adopted by edward iii as his badge. the symbol was also worn by the black prince and other princes of wales. as early as the year the broad arrow was used in the royal household, and from the beginning of the eighteenth century onwards it was adopted as a mark for distinguishing government stores. [illustration: fig. .--the postilion of a lord mayor of london, wearing a crest upon his cap, and a coat of arms upon his sleeve. (copied by permission from a plate published by the john williamson co., ltd.)] we may conclude our remarks upon this fascinating subject by alluding to a case in which a crest is actually borne on the head. it will be seen on looking at figure , which represents the postilion of a lord mayor of london, that he wears upon his jockey cap the actual crest of his master, in the same way that in the days of chivalry the knights wore their crests upon their helmets. on his sleeve also there is a full coat of arms with helmet and crest, which takes the place of the badge, and is similar to the instances which we have mentioned just above. x gloves and mittens origin of the baby's glove--fourchettes--the "points" on the backs of gloves gloves play a considerable part in our everyday life, and now exercise a kind of mild tyranny over us. it is perhaps not to be wondered at, seeing the importance which has been attached to these protectors of the hand in the past. records show that in the earliest gloves there were no divisions between the fingers, and only the thumbs had a separate covering. this is what one might have expected to be the case, and if we look at the gloves which tiny babies wear (see figure ), we shall find a similar state of affairs, so that here we have a direct survival from very early times. such a case is on all fours with that of young animals which belong to species that originally were spotted like the leopard, but which in the course of their evolution have changed their spots, and are now, like the lion, self-coloured. among other animals which are spotted when immature may be mentioned the wild boar and the tapir (see frontispiece). while these young ones are protected by their parents, their primitive colouring is no detriment to them, but when they go out into the world for themselves it would be disadvantageous under existing conditions for them to retain their aboriginal markings. in a similar way the baby wears the primitive glove, which its ancestors made shift to use for purposes of warmth or protection, and the child continues to do so until it is necessary or convenient for it to use its fingers to help itself without removing its gloves. [illustration: fig. .--a baby's glove without separate fingers.] there is little doubt but that gloves are the products of a cold climate, and it is interesting to note that in iceland, where in order that gloves may be put on quickly and easily they are made without fingers; and what is more, so that no time shall be wasted in choosing right or left-hand gloves, they are provided with two thumbs, one of which is in use while the other remains idle. of vestiges, gloves offer a very curious instance. there are on the backs of most of them, at the present day, three lines of raised embroidery or fancy stitching, which run almost parallel with one another, though they converge slightly as they approach the wrist. when these are worked in black on the back of a white woollen glove, for instance, they are very conspicuous, and to explain their origin may well seem puzzling. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--the back of a woollen glove showing the three vestiges known as "points."] inquiry into the history of these most persistent ornaments is apt to produce a fine crop of speculations. one explanation that may be offered is that the lines are vestiges that date from the time when gloves were so ill-fitting that they had to be laced up the back with the help of a string which was passed through eyelet holes. on hearing this one might be tempted to ask why there should be three ornaments and not one. another guess which can be more easily shown to be wrong is that we are dealing with the remains of ventilation holes. we say "more easily" because an examination of the facts will show that openings through which air was intended to enter were made in the palm of the glove. [illustration: fig. .--a modern kid glove showing the fourchettes or pieces between the fingers, which form three pointed v's.] [illustration: fig. .--queen elizabeth's coronation glove showing the stitching carried down on to the back. (from a photograph by the courtesy of messrs. fownes brothers and co.)] a third suggestion which may occur, is that the ornamentation is a survival from the time when great men, particularly prelates, had various devices and even jewels fixed to the back of their gloves. once more, however, we meet with the difficulty in the shape of the point that there are always three of the marks. in making a careful investigation into the true origin of the vestiges we can, on the one side, endeavour to see whether there is anything in the form of the hand which can have given rise to the number three, that is so constant; and on the other, whether the glove-makers have any particular name for the marks which may throw some light upon them. in connection with the first line of research, it will be seen on spreading out the fingers that there are, if we ignore the thumb which has its insertion lower down in the hand, three "v"-shaped openings between them, and we find on taking up our second clue that the ornaments are called "points." now there is a point at the bottom of a "v," and this is well seen in looking at a glove where the pieces or fourchettes which form the insides of the fingers meet (see figure ); but if this is evident in a modern glove, it is very much more so in old gloves. (see figure .) a result of this fact was that the stitching which made the fingers was carried down for some distance on to the back of the glove, as seen in queen elizabeth's coronation glove. (see figure .) this stitching was and is often somewhat elaborate, and in some cases a line of embroidery covered it. this is well seen in the glove of anne, the queen consort of james i (see figure ); and here it is noticeable that the two lines of embroidery at the points of the three "v's" run parallel and touching each other, so that we get a beginning of the three "points" as we know them. with improvements in the making of the fourchettes, the stitching terminated more abruptly, and the embroidery was allowed to remain on the back of the glove, where it is still to be seen. [illustration: fig. .--the glove of anne, queen consort of james i, showing the embroidery on the fingers, which is the ancestor of modern "points." (from a photograph, by the courtesy of messrs. fownes brothers and co.)] some mention should perhaps be made of mittens. when they are used for the purpose of keeping the hands warm, they are usually on the principle of a baby's glove, but with the end of the thumb and part of the bag for the fingers cut off. otherwise, when these articles are used merely to cover part of the hands, or for ornament, they are more elaborate, and divisions are introduced for some distance between the fingers. in the construction of these, as in that of stockings and other garments, we meet with the modern tendency towards transparency. often also the patterns are dependent upon the skin showing through, and we are once more reminded of tattooing. xi tags, pins, and baldrics laces--the evolution and vagaries of the safety-pin--primitive methods of carrying burdens as illustrated by muff-chains, baldrics, and yokes during the course of their evolution many little appurtenances in connection with dress go through a number of changes. some of them, which at first are useful, afterwards become ornamental. others, which have reached a stage in which they are both necessary and decorative, may for a time be simplified and retain a practical importance only, while at a later period they resume their ornamental character once more. we have at the present day various laces which are provided with simple metal tags, and which are as primitive as they very well can be. (see figure .) if we examine the dresses of both sexes in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, we shall find that ties were used to a great extent instead of buttons, and they were provided with metal tags of an ornamental character called aiglets, or, more properly, aiguillettes. in many cases the chief object of the ribbons which they adorned was that of embellishment, for as many as a dozen or more might be found round one knee. sometimes the tags were in the form of little figures, and in the "taming of the shrew" it is said of petruchio that if you gave him gold enough any one "might marry him to a puppet or an aglet-baby." [illustration: fig. .--a silk lace with simple metal tags.] [illustration: fig. .--ornamental metal tags on a velvet neck ribbon.] of recent years the velvet ribbons which ladies have worn round their necks have been provided in like manner with little tags (see figure ), though the fashion does not seem to have developed again to any very great extent. the safety-pin is an object which may well occupy our attention for a moment. as we knew it when we were children, it was merely a piece of wire that had been pointed at one end and bent into the required shape. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--a simple safety-pin.] the point was protected in a very simple manner, and the safety-pins used for fastening hooks to curtains are still constructed in the same way. occasionally gold safety-pins of a plain and even ornamental character were made and used as brooches by ladies for fastening lace, or by men for securing their ties in the place of the straight scarf-pins. it would seem therefore that a brooch is a development of the safety-pin rather than the reverse; but if we study the brooches or fibulæ of the romans, we shall find that the pin, instead of being hinged, was often made in one piece with the rest of the structure. a coil or two in the metal acted as a spring, as in the case of the safety-pin, and prevented breakage. we may even find an etruscan fibula of such simple construction (see figure ) that it is to all intents and purposes a safety-pin. all sorts of devices have been invented for the better protection of the points in modern safety-pins, as well as for rendering the opening and closing more easy; but this is the development which has taken place along practical lines. such pins are for use only, and are not intended to be seen. when, on the other hand, safety-pins are not hidden, they retain their more simple character as regards their fastenings, though they themselves again become decorative, and are ornamented in various ways. we have therefore a very good illustration of the evolution of one thing along two different lines, and of the survival of the fittest types in each case. [illustration: fig. .--an etruscan brooch or fibula, resembling a safety-pin. (in the collection of major w. j. myers in eton college museum.)] the ornamental safety-pin in recent years has changed its habits, and it is interesting to note its vagaries. a little while ago its sphere of action was extended, and instead of figuring under the chins of ladies it took up a position in the back of their waistbands (see figure ), where it occupied itself with the duty of keeping blouse and skirt together. then, as if this situation were not important enough, the safety-pin migrated to the head and usurped the place of the straight hat-pin (see figure ), just as in the case of men it has sometimes ousted the tie-pin proper. [illustration: fig. .--the safety-pin in the waistband.] during the process which we have described the safety-pin has become stronger and larger, until in the last stage it has grown almost out of recognition. [illustration: fig. .--the safety-pin grown larger and used for fastening on a hat.] straight pins have developed along the same two lines, and we have the strictly useful pin and tie- or hat-pins, which are often quite as important as fastenings, but which may also be highly ornamental. these small articles have a special claim to our attention, as they have been taken as being emblematical of clothes, or at least of female attire. even now the allowance which a lady is given for dress is called "pin-money." moreover, it is possible to illustrate by means of pins the various phases of culture through which mankind has passed in the process of civilization. we meet with pins of bone, in the stage of stone, before metals were used. in the stage characterized by bronze we have pins made of this alloy. such pins occurred in egypt before the historic period, and they have been found in the swiss lake dwellings as well as in our own country. [illustration: fig. .--a muff-chain.] although we now live in the iron, or perhaps more correctly steel, stage of culture, the familiar pin of to-day is still usually made of brass; but nevertheless we find steel pins of the ordinary form which are plated with brass, and glass-headed steel pins are very common. in early times also gold, silver, and precious stones were pressed into service for making ornamental pins, and very handsome pins are represented on effigies of the fourteenth century in westminster abbey. these, no doubt, have for their descendants the scarf-pins of to-day. [illustration: fig. .--a hawker, illustrating the primitive way of carrying a burden.] [illustration: fig. .--a courier-bag supported by a baldric.] a muff-chain is a thing which is very often seen at the present day, and this simple arrangement, coupled with the way in which it is worn (see figure ), may lead us along a very interesting line of research, which we may follow for a short time. if we look once again at the muff, we shall see that it is supported by a chain which goes round the back of the neck, allowing the muff to rest against the front of the body. this is a primitive method of carrying a burden. pedlars of old made use of it, and it is still adopted by the hawker (see figure ), because, if necessary, the hands can remain free, while a modification of the same principle is seen when the strap takes the form of a baldric, and passes over one shoulder and under the arm on the other side. in this way travellers carry their courier-bags (see figure ), the school-boy or girl supports his or her satchel, the fisherman his creel, and the sportsman his field-glasses. to a baldric also was attached the quiver of the archer, and sometimes such a band was merely worn as a decoration. (see figure .) in the illustration which we give, and which is of the time of henry v, the baldric is hung with bells like those which were worn by horses. possibly a survival of the ornamental use of the baldric is to be seen in the ribbons of various orders and in military sashes, though no doubt the bandoleer which carries the pouch or cartridges of a modern soldier represents the useful baldric. it is of interest to note that the red or blue cord worn over the cross-belts of the life guards and horse guards is a survival of a cord by which the horn containing powder for priming muskets used to be suspended. in this connection we might also mention the leather sling of a rifle and the strap by which the itinerant harpist, in common with the organ-grinder, carries his instrument. [illustration: fig. .--an ornamental baldric of the early fifteenth century. (royal mss. d. , after fairholt.)] the ordinary belt should not be overlooked, as from it many things, such as weapons, may be suspended, not to mention pouches, which may carry ammunition, flint and steel, and so on. [illustration: fig. .--a lady's dress, showing the part which is called a yoke, and recalls a primitive method of carrying burdens.] even more intimately connected with dress are pockets, and they may be touched upon here, for they are intended for carrying small objects. we have seen how the flaps of pockets which have become ornamental survive after the pockets themselves have disappeared (see figure ), and it is worthy of note that clothes in various countries lend themselves to the transportation of commodities. it has been pointed out by mr. otis t. mason[ ] that the oriental, especially the korean, has pockets in his sleeves having the capacity of half a bushel; while the turk and arab can stow an equal amount in the ample folds of their robes. the writer also remembers hearing the account of a journey in asia from a traveller who, when riding in wide trousers fastened at the ankle, used to keep all his clean linen in one trouser-leg and his dirty clothes in the other. we are reminded by the name given to the upper part of a lady's dress, namely, the yoke (see figure ), of another means of carrying burdens, which still survives in london, where a few milk-women even now carry round their pails on a yoke. their costume, which includes a small shawl and an apron, can be compared with that of the barge-girl, though the picturesque sun-bonnet of the latter is lacking. xii ornaments primitive necklaces--finger-rings--the origin of the hair comb--buttons--studs--flowers--feathers--amulets we have touched upon one or two objects which may have a decorative character, but we now come to a consideration of ornaments themselves. roughly speaking, they owe their survival to one of two reasons: either the deep-rooted instinct which exists in even the lowest races for adorning their person, or, secondly, the adoption of various objects which have been worn as charms or amulets. dr. e. b. tylor[ ] has pointed out the tendency of higher civilization to give up savage ornaments. not the most primitive possibly, but seemingly the most barbarous, are the ornaments which are fastened into the body in special orifices which are pierced to receive them. it is true that in this country we do not make holes in our lips for the insertion of wooden plugs two or three inches across, and the only nose ornaments which we see are on the faces of the hindu ayahs who have come over from india with their white nurselings; but still many among the population pierce their ears for the reception of earrings. in the higher social ranks ear-drops are now worn which do not require the ear to be perforated for their reception; but among the lower orders--as, for instance, those who live in canal-boats--the ears of men, women, and children are still pierced. of ornaments which can be attached to the person without injuring it there are more in use, but they are practically confined in civilized countries to the neck, arms, and head. of those which are fastened to clothes we will not for the moment speak. beads, which at the moment of writing seem to be greatly in fashion, or their representatives, take us back to the very earliest men of whose work we have any knowledge. in the caves where the stone age men of the mammoth period lived there have been found periwinkle shells, which were bored to form bracelets or necklaces, just as nowadays native tribes and æsthetic ladies still make use of the more ornamental and beautiful exotic shells. the prehistoric egyptians who, it has been calculated, flourished about b.c., had necklaces of beads cut out from pieces of shell, and others made of many different materials. among the earliest remains in our own country beads are found, and throughout the historic period everywhere they seem to have held their sway. we have already mentioned how easy it is for ornaments to be used as currencies, owing to the facility with which they may be carried on the person, and beads for many centuries have been used--as in africa for instance--in the place of money. there are on the west coast of that continent still to be seen "aggries" similar to those which the arab traders brought with them from egypt as early as the seventeenth dynasty. at the present day beads of various kinds--for only particular varieties will buy certain commodities--are made and exported to africa to be used in trading. while speaking of egyptian beads, it might be said that, as in other matters of art, the egyptians excelled in the making of beads. some--known as blue popo beads, which found their way to west africa--are worth more than their weight in gold at the present day, and the most skilful of the venetian beadmakers are unable to imitate them sufficiently well to induce the natives to accept them. chains for the neck in our time do not assume very massive proportions, except those which are used as symbols of office in the case of mayors and by the members of various knightly orders. these take us back to the time of richard ii, when such ornaments came into vogue. among savage races metal rings find much favour as ornaments, and they illustrate the fact that the lady who wears the minimum of clothes will put up with the height of inconvenience, not to say pain, just as her over-dressed and more civilized white sister will do, in order to be in the height of fashion. the padaung women put metal collars round their necks when they are young children till these number between twenty and thirty, and the necks of the wearers are stretched out in the most grotesque and uncomfortable fashion. (see plate vi.) african belles will wear great copper rings on their limbs, which get so hot in the sun that an attendant has to carry water with which to occasionally cool them down. the wearing of armlets and bracelets has never been confined to women. men among the greeks did not wear them, but among the romans they did. armlets were conferred on soldiers for heroic deeds, and even now the rank of non-commissioned officers in the army is indicated by stripes on their sleeves. [illustration: two padaung women, showing the numerous metal collars which they wear round their necks. (_see page ._) _plate vi._] dr. tylor hints that ordinary finger-rings have originated from those used as signets in egypt and babylon. in this case the modern signet ring, which we have already discussed in connection with heraldic devices, is a survival from the earliest times. most rings are now merely ornamental, though a few are symbolical--the episcopal ring of the bishop, the engagement ring of the betrothed damsel, and the wedding ring of the wife. as early as the seventh century a ring was among the distinctive insignia of a bishop, and one was found on the finger of bishop agilbert of paris (who lived at this time) when his coffin was opened. the ring was of gold and, as is usual, had a jewel set in it, on which, in the particular case mentioned, was a likeness of christ and of st. jerome. the origin is no doubt to be found in the fact that in roman times rings were used as an insignia of rank. the episcopal ring proper was only one of many other rings which a bishop might wear as ornaments. it was borne on the third finger of the right hand, above the second joint, and was usually kept in place with a plain guard ring. the greeks and romans used betrothal rings as pledges, but not wedding rings. there is a good deal of interesting symbolism in connection with rings, and it is said that the third finger of the left hand was chosen because in old times it was thought that a vein came to that finger direct from the heart. the practical point is that the finger in question is not very much used, and on it the rings would not be so liable to be worn out as on some of the others. it is also supposed that the left hand was chosen as it was the less important, and the wearing of a ring on this hand signified servitude. an interesting form of early wedding rings was that called the gimmal ring, which consisted of two links, each having a hand upon it, which when brought together formed a single ring with the hands clasped together. the ring was used at betrothal, and the man and woman each kept a half until their wedding day. perhaps the old custom of breaking a coin upon engagement so that each of the contracting parties may have half, is a relic of the same custom. in ireland the peasantry still use a ring, though a solid one, bearing clasped hands. we have possibly a survival of the interesting posey rings in those which bear the word mizpah. this originally signified "a watch-tower," but it is now taken as expressing the following sentiment: "god watch over thee and me when we are apart." in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries the couplet or line was, as in the case mentioned, put on the outside of the ring, while later, in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the words were engraved inside the ring. occasionally we see a necktie held in place with a ring, and this may well be connected with the custom of wearing rings round the neck on a ribbon. it is recorded that the duke of burgundy, who died in , carried his signet ring in this way. a custom is still sometimes followed which dates back to the sixteenth century. it is that of choosing stones on account of the first letters of their names and setting them in a ring in such an order that the initials spell a word or words. for instance, the following--ruby, emerald, garnet, amethyst, ruby, and diamond, indicate regard; while a lover's exhortation is produced by such a combination as lapis-lazuli, opal, verdi-antique, emerald, malachite, emerald. many of the egyptian rings are made of blue pottery or faïence, and some of them show highly ornamental and pierced work. the lotus flowers and other figures upon them point to their being symbolical. others bear the sacred eye in the place where the seal would be in a signet ring, and were probably used as amulets; but of ornaments worn on account of their supposed virtues we will speak in a moment. an ornament for the head, with which we will deal, is the crown. mr. elworthy, in a paper to the british association at ipswich in , derived the crown from horns of honour. he maintained that the symbols found on the head of the god serapis were the elements from which were formed the composite head-dress called the crown, into which horns entered to a very great extent. the panache in heraldry is derived from the horn, and it may be recalled that the deer-skin cloaks worn by the bronze age people over the woven dresses that have been described on pages and , bore the horns of the animal from which they were taken. though the comb used as an ornament in the hair is also worn on the head, it is on a very much lower plane than the crown, and has presumably a very much less exalted origin. professor boyd dawkins[ ] has expressed the opinion that the old loom comb (see fig. ), such as one found in the prehistoric lake dwellings which have been excavated at glastonbury, is the ancestor of the comb worn as a head-dress at the present day (see fig. ). combs were used to push down the weft on a hand loom, the warp being kept taut by means of weights. the long hair-combs used by the natives of the west carolines are also of very much the same shape as the old loom combs. [illustration: fig. .--a loom comb found in the glastonbury lake dwellings (after boyd dawkins).] [illustration: fig. .--a modern comb for the hair.] already in the safety-pin and scarf-pin we have had instances of fastenings which at times are ornamental. the button and its relative the stud afford another case in point. a stud is in reality a button which appears on both sides of the stuff through which it is put. it is obvious that it is most convenient to use when the material to be fastened is of a stiff texture. at present we use studs in our starched linen, and they are also adopted for fastening parts of leather accoutrements, as they evidently were in the times of the later bronze folk. this will be seen from figure . one of these is adorned with the triskele, which is allied to the swastika, and no doubt gave rise to the three-legged charge on the coat of arms of the isle of man and of sicily. [illustration: fig. .--two studs of bronze, seen from above and from the side. later bronze age (after worsaae).] buttons have from time to time done a great deal in the way of decorating clothes, in addition to the part which they have played as fastenings. we saw in an earlier chapter how many of our buttons, which are now only ornamental, were once of use, and any history of costume which goes into details will show how largely, superfluous buttons have figured as ornaments. the older quakers, of course, refused to wear any buttons that were not needful, and brought down upon them the criticisms of cobbett, who referred to other things which they lacked besides buttons. although at the present time we may be inclined to appreciate some of our purposeless buttons, on account of their historic associations, we cannot say the same for many of those which now appear on ladies' dresses. there is little sense in having on the front of a bodice a series of buttons of which the first member is very large and the last very small, with the others graduated in size between them, while there seems to be no rhyme nor reason in many other individual buttons or patches of them which are dotted here and there over the costume. it is not as if these additions were really handsome. not long ago they looked as if the wearer had saved up all her old glove buttons, and then had sewed them to her frock, for they were quite tiny and made of brass. now, though they are larger, they are merely covered with the cloth of which the dress is made and are usually quite plain. in some cases buttons show great beauty of design, and for this reason, if not on account of the material of which they are made, may be exceedingly valuable. bearing on the antiquity of buttons, we may say that they are found among prehistoric remains in this country, and though they were foreign to the ancient egyptians, we learn (through the kindness of professor flinders petrie) that engraved buttons or seals were usual from the sixth to the nineteenth dynasty, probably among foreign immigrants, for the designs are never true egyptian. in the present year, , professor petrie found a cornelian button with a copper shank which belongs to the twelfth dynasty. the use of flowers, whether artificial or natural, on the person, and more particularly the wearing of feathers, also takes us back to the primitive instinct of early or uncivilized man. in our own country the custom of wearing feathers is an exceedingly old one. the single upright specimens worn by the knights of the fourteenth century have been characterized as being preposterous in size. the plumes afterwards worn in helmets in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries were also immense. in , according to nichol's "progresses," on the occasion of the visit of christian iv, some of the knights "wore strange feathers of rich and great esteem which they called birdes of paradice," and, unfortunately, ladies of the present day wear them still. in the reign of edward iv, we learn, only men, practically speaking, wore feathers. they still survive in the army, but otherwise in the twentieth century, with the exception of an occasional small and modest instance amongst civilians, the wearing of plumes is confined to ladies. many flowers and feathers are exceedingly beautiful, and from an artistic point of view there seems little reason why we should allow civilization to sweep them away. we are quiet and colourless in our clothing, and if we are not careful the same element of dulness may creep into our lives. at the same time, however, to wear feathers which can only be obtained at the cost of cruelty or of depriving others of the sight of beautiful birds, or, again, of bringing any species to extinction, savours too much of barbarousness and thoughtlessness to be in any way condoned. ostriches are reared for their feathers, and the plumage of many birds that are killed for food is always at hand. men have much less opportunity now of showing any great individuality in their dress than heretofore, but sometimes they may be known by always wearing a buttonhole, even if that does not always consist of the same kind of bloom. the language of flowers, though now seemingly considered to be a dead letter, was hardly invented for nothing. of the brooch and its connection with the safety-pin we have already spoken. in many ornaments we find remnants of religious ideas; for instance, all brooches showing a crescent pattern or bearing the design of a hand are connected with the old phallic worship. the cross, it may be mentioned, is of much more ancient origin than christianity, and is connected intimately with the swastika or fylfot. the locket and other pendant ornaments must in many, if not all, cases be the descendants of amulets. the arab women at the present day wear a little metal box containing a written talisman. an ancient egyptian buried, with his mummies, many amulets and charms so that the soul, in obedience to various precepts, might enter into complete union with ra, the solar god, and so accompany him on his journey round the world, and secure his everlasting protection. it is due to these ideas that we owe the beautifully modelled figures of glazed pottery found in the egyptian tombs. many of them depict the various gods and goddesses acknowledged in egypt, and they are usually pierced for attachment to the person. these were also carried on the person during life, and children especially were accustomed to wear them. old religious beliefs and superstitions that have not yet died out, have elsewhere given rise to the wearing of charms, and it is interesting to note that flint arrow-heads, under the name of "elves' arrows," were made into pendants by races who had reached the metal stage of culture. precious stones, upon which a word may be said here, no doubt at first were prized for their beauty alone, and then imagination gradually endowed many of them with fictitious properties and virtues, though doubtless the supposed attributes of some and the value and beauty of others have kept many precious stones in favour until the present day. fashion is now particularly fickle as regards them, and craftsmen who deal with gems, feel her decrees[ ] more keenly perhaps than any one else. some half-dozen kinds of stones--such as diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, opals, and turquoises--never go completely out of fashion, but even among these, one or other becomes paramount from time to time. the topaz and chrysolite were reported to lose their brilliancy when placed in liquid that contains poison. to the amethyst was attributed the power of warding off the effects of drunkenness. the diamond, it was believed, gave to the wearers magnanimity, virtue, and courage. the ancients supposed that the opal shared the charm of every stone of which it reflected the colour, but when it was stolen, the thief became invisible, and was allowed to escape scot free. mr. claremont[ ] has made an interesting suggestion as to the reason why the opal has been considered unlucky. the notion, he says, is not nearly so ancient as many of the superstitions relating to other stones, and probably does not date further back than the middle ages. the old name "ophal" was used as late as the time of queen elizabeth, and came from the greek for "eye"-stone, and as eyes are unlucky even in peacocks' feathers, perhaps the explanation of the superstition lies in the name of the stone. such walking-sticks as those garnished with "sylver" and "golde," which are described as being at the royal palace at greenwich in the reign of henry viii, may well be considered as ornaments. the same may be said of the be-ribboned canes of the exquisites of charles ii's and later times. we mention them because, within the last two or three years, there has been a talk of seeing "the nice conduct of a clouded cane" more generally considered, and some men have appeared at the theatre with long, gold-knobbed and tasselled canes. the buckle, which may be ornamental or useful, or both, is well worthy of our attention. it consists in its simple form of a ring and a pin, and the latter is hinged on to the former. it is, in fact, much like a brooch, but without a hasp, and used in a different way. there are brooches, however, at the present day, which are even simpler in construction than the buckle, and they are used[ ] even now by blacksmiths in kirkudbrightshire, in the form of the iron ring and a horseshoe nail, with which they fasten their aprons. similar pin-ring brooches were used in ireland until quite recently and are known from early times. mr. edward lovett[ ] thinks that such a fastening may well have been derived from two bones of the sheep or deer, the garment being pulled through the ring formed by half the hip girdle, and speared through with the pointed heel bone. a still more primitive pin was no doubt a thorn, and fish-hooks are to this day used on the coasts of essex, which are made from the same natural object. xiii hair dressing head shaving--wigs that are still worn--roman curls and fringes the styles in which hair is dressed are so intimately connected with fashions in costume that no excuse is needed for dealing with the question here. moreover, there are certain vestiges in costume occasionally to be met with which owe their origin to the way in which hair was once arranged. hair can be treated in all sorts of manners without injuring the person in any way, and usually without causing pain, though some fashions in hair arrangement had results that were far from pleasant, and must have caused considerable discomfort. in addition to the styles in which hair is allowed to grow, there are others which lead to its removal from one or more of the places which it normally covers, and almost every change that could be rung is met with. in addition to the hair on the head, women have only their eyebrows and eyelashes to consider, though it is the fashion to remove any "superfluous" hair from their faces and arms. men have also to consider moustaches, whiskers, and beard. nowadays it is decreed that women's hair should be long and that men's should be short; but even now men with long hair do not necessarily look effeminate, as is shown by the cowboys from the wild west who have taken part in various exhibitions in this country, and whose hair reaches on to their shoulders. the shaving of the whole head is carried out by many savage nations, and this is perhaps surprising, seeing that the process cannot but be laborious and even painful when carried out with flint knives or pieces of shell. the chinese leave the hair that grows from one small spot in order to make their pigtail. in this country it might be thought that the tonsure of priests was the only remnant of shaving the head; but we need go no farther than the east end of london to find jewesses who upon marriage shave their head and put on wigs. it appears that the custom is still universal in the remote villages of russia, where every jewess on her marriage shaves her head. the wig that is worn is of a very plain pattern, and the hair of which it is composed is parted down the middle. the object which seems to underlie the custom is the destruction of the charm of the women when once they have found husbands. in london the younger women do not seem to be keeping up the practice, and it is mostly in the case of those who are over forty years of age that shaved heads and wigs are to be found. there may be, however, another explanation. in many countries where great value was attached to a profuse head of hair a variety of superstitions arose, and emblematic observances were followed with regard to it. parents dedicated the hair of their infants to gods, as did young women theirs at their marriage, warriors after a successful campaign, and sailors after deliverance from a storm. the egyptians of all classes, as well as their slaves, shaved their heads and wore wigs. by this habit they ensured greater cleanliness, and the structure of the wig not only allowed the heat from the head to escape, but protected the latter effectively from the sun. it does not happen that both sexes always follow the practice of shaving their heads, for, contrary to what prevails amongst civilized nations, fijian women are usually closely cropped, while the men spend much time and attention on cultivating and elaborately arranging a luxuriant mass of hair. the tendency nowadays is to cultivate eyebrows and eyelashes, but if we go back in our history to the reign of richard ii we find that it was thought necessary to pull out the eyebrows, and at the present day in some parts of africa it is one of the requirements of female beauty to eradicate the eyebrows. special pinchers for this purpose are to be found among the appliances of the native toilet. a man may of course remove all the hair, speaking in the ordinary way, from his face, or he may retain only his moustache or his whiskers or his beard, or a combination of any two of these. at the present day we meet with all sorts of styles, though one may be the fashion for the moment among the younger generation or those who wish to be considered smart. one cannot alter the disposition of one's hair as easily as one can change one's clothes, and this, perhaps, taken in conjunction with the objection to change on the part of a man and his relatives, gives the variety that has been mentioned. for instance, if it were customary when a man was young for his fellows to wear beards or only a moustache, then he continues to wear a beard or only a moustache. perhaps no other fashions come round again more regularly than those which govern the amount of hair on a man's face, and it may be interesting to indicate very briefly some of the changes which have taken place during the last two thousand years or so in this country. [illustration: fig. a. fig. b. fig. c. fig. d. fig. e. fig. f. methods of hairdressing illustrated by romano-egyptian portrait models in the myers collection, eton college museum. (_photographs by wilfred mark webb_.) (_see pages and ._) _plate vii._] the inhabitants of england at the time of the roman invasion either did not shave at all or wore only a moustache. the romans often cut their beards (see plate vii, figure f.), and the saxons parted their beards into double locks or neatly trimmed them. when the normans came into this country they were closely shaved, but afterwards they went to the opposite extreme. in the fourteenth century old men wore beards and the younger generation shaved. edward iii had a long beard, edward ii two small tufts on his chin, and in edward iv's time the beard was closely shaven. afterwards we find that a tax was put on beards, and once more, in elizabeth's and the following reigns, we have a number of extraordinary fashions in connection with the hair on the chin. when we get to , among the upper classes beards were again no longer worn, and there have been several changes since that time. apart from the prevailing fashion, there is, under the conditions which we have seen to govern the matter, considerable scope for the indulgence of individual taste, and often an effect is produced which is much more striking than otherwise would be the case. a man may choose, for instance, to grow a large pair of bushy whiskers, and he may thereby give character and importance to his face, which without them would be very insignificant. curly hair is effective and has its advantages, therefore we find that it is carefully imitated both in the case of real hair and of wigs. the effect is now usually produced artificially only in connection with ladies' hair. when dealing with this branch of the subject, once more we might allude to the monstrous toilets which have been built up in defiance of all laws of proportion and, we might add, of comfort and cleanliness also. to utilize the hair from the heads of others is an ancient practice still to be met with, and all sorts of means for making the most of one's own hair in the shape of pads and so on are still adopted. when speaking of footmen, we shall find that those who dress in the costume that was in fashion when hair powder was in vogue still wear it, and the custom has been traced to the days of rome, when gold dust was put upon the head. it has been suggested that our saxon forerunners used coloured hair powder or else dyed their hair, but the evidence comes from saxon drawings in which the hair is often painted blue, and this may be due merely to the caprice of the artist. it is well to be wary also in studying the colour of clothes at early periods, by looking at pictures, to remember that the illuminators may have followed their own fancy, and made garments of such colours as fitted in with their own ideas of ornament. though the use of wigs is extremely ancient, the origin, which is customarily ascribed to the peruke, is interesting. many curious fashions have arisen through royal peculiarities or temporary indispositions, the courtiers having imitated their royal master or mistress, out of compliment. louis xiv had, when a child, remarkably beautiful hair, which fell in curls on to his shoulders, and to imitate this, his courtiers put on false hair, while later in life the king himself adopted the fashion which they had set. the obvious use of artificial additions to the hair has now been discontinued for very many years except in a few cases. judges and barristers with a few parliamentary and other officials still wear wigs, as do also certain coachmen and footmen, but these we shall consider elsewhere. it will prove of no small interest after recalling the various modes of doing the hair which ladies have adopted during the last twenty or thirty years, to compare them with the fashions in egypt in roman times about two hundred years before the christian era. the reason why we can do this so well is that the romano-egyptians put on the top of their coffins a model of the head of the person who was buried in it. professor flinders petrie has shown that the effigies were really portraits, and even a glance at some of them would go far to prove the statement. professor petrie made composite photographs of the face on the outside of the coffin and of the skull within, and both in the profile as well as in the full-face pictures it was seen that the plaster model clothed the skull, as it were, with flesh. to return to the question of hair dressing, if one examines plate vii we shall see first of all a lady with corkscrew curls, which were more prevalent in the last century than they are now, though they have not yet died out. then we have a lady with a very elaborate fringe, another who allows her hair to fall in waves on her forehead, and it forms a chignon at the back. lastly (plate vii, figure b) a little girl with a small bun on the top of her head. another specimen, not figured here, and also contained in the celebrated myers collection, shows the bun exactly as it was worn at the end of the last century. we have included two heads (plate vii, figures a and f), one of a boy and the other of a man, showing the great likeness that exists between the way in which hair was done more than two thousand years ago and at the present day. besides the methods of hair arrangement which have survived or been revived, there are certain little features still to be seen here and there in modern dress which owe their origin to the ways in which hair or wigs were dressed. a remnant of the bag-wig, with its great bow of black ribbon, we may find in the army. for a long time on the backs of the collars of the officers and staff-sergeants of the welsh fusiliers there have been fixed some ribbons which hang down their back. these, which are few in number, are called the "flash," and are said to represent the bow which used to ornament the bag-wig. a hundred years ago the officers of the regiment wore their hair turned up behind, and it was then tied with a bow. this is in keeping with another explanation which mr. r. simkin has given us, which is that the flash is the survival of a bunch of ribbons that were sewn on the back of the coat-collar to protect it from the pomatum and powder of the "clubbed" or "queued" hair. the privilege of wearing the "flash" has recently been extended to all ranks of the regiment (see figure ). [illustration: fig. .--the "flash" of five black ribbons on the collar of the welsh fusiliers. a survival from the days of the pigtail.] a survival of the same kind, which takes us back to the time of wigs, is to be seen on the backs of the collars of several court dresses, and it is known technically as the "wig-bag." it is also, as we have had occasion to mention, to be seen on the back of the collar of the liveries of some servants whose dress is in the old style, and here, as in the case of the lord mayor's coachman, it looks as if it had originated in a bow (see figure ). xiv special dresses fashions kept up by ceremonies--survivals in special costume--flowing garments in the foregoing pages we have been concerned chiefly with individual parts of costume, and while showing how various garments have reached their present form, we have busied ourselves with discovering the origin of many important survivals. we have not however hesitated, in dealing with these details, to touch on all kinds of costumes, and here and there we have left civilians' dress for a moment to take an illustration from that of the soldier or the member of some other profession. at the same time, we have indicated that on occasions of ceremony, whether religious or otherwise, the dress adopted is, as a rule, more primitive or older in style than that which is customarily worn. this is what might be expected, as, on the one hand, innate conservatism and objection to change come into play, and, on the other, ordinary everyday practical matters being for the time put on one side, it is possible to wear clothes which otherwise would be inconvenient and liable to get damaged. when we ourselves dress for dinner we go back nearly a century, but nothing could be more primitive than the court etiquette of certain tribes,[ ] where the subjects of the king may only approach him when entirely unclothed. livingstone was received by the queen of the balonde negroes in south africa when she was in a state of complete nudity. the women of neighbouring tribes and members of other races, for instance those in australia, entirely remove their clothing on festive occasions. among some black races, also, the girls who are sent as official messengers to important persons are not clothed. there are still certain tribes of "leaf wearers" in india, while at a yearly festival in madras the whole low-caste population throw off their ordinary clothing and put on aprons of leafy twigs. another case in point is that of the priests who conducted the sacrifices in ancient italy and greece, for they are often represented on monuments as being naked, while the rest of those present at the ceremony are fully clothed. in taking up the question of ceremonial dress among civilized peoples, we find that we have a very wide field in which to wander. we have the court, which might alone occupy our whole attention; we have naval, military, ecclesiastical, and legal dress, the garb of the universities, the costume of pantomime characters, of the acrobat, of the athlete, and the liveries of servants, besides the costumes adopted for special ceremonies and in connection with particular institutions. in treating of survivals in the case of the army, where the variety in uniform--if we may use this paradoxical expression--is so great, we may content ourselves with discussing matters in a way similar to that which we have adopted before. on the other hand, we may also describe and illustrate particular costumes, as a whole, while showing how far their history may carry us back. in addition to the clothes actually worn by persons, there are those which are found on dolls. these may be on the representations of personages such as st. nicholas, on the continent and elsewhere, and they are interesting because in many cases they may show a national costume which is no longer worn. in the same way, puppets such as are used in the play which we know as punch and judy, and their dresses, like others which we have studied, may bring to our notice chapters of history in a way that is exceedingly attractive. there is no doubt but that long flowing garments produce a more elegant effect, and give rise to a more stately appearance than those which are short or tight fitting. in the case of men, such garments would now be too much in the way on ordinary occasions, or when any physical exertion is required. the king and noblemen on state occasions wear robes, as do also the members of city companies and borough councillors when they assemble together. the case of the clergy will occur to every one, and legal and academical dress may also be mentioned. in the privacy of the home it is possible for every man to wear a dressing-gown, and pyjamas have not in all cases superseded the more primitive nightshirt. in the case of ladies, we find that they cling lovingly to long dresses, though, as we know, there is much effort being made to dispense with skirts under ordinary conditions, and the fact that short skirts have for some years been fashionable for outdoor use looks as if some progress were being made. xv servants' dress the prototypes of liveries--reminiscences of george ii and george iii--origin of the page-boy's buttons--the jockey cap--aprons in taking up the question of special costumes, we may perhaps begin with those which we see most commonly, and for that reason we may turn our attention, in the first place, to the liveries and dress of servants. we have laid down a sort of rule that the costume of servants is that of the master of an earlier generation, and we will now bring forward some evidence in support of it. modern coachmen and outdoor footmen wear the tall hat, the bright buttons, doeskin breeches and the top boots characteristic of the outdoor and riding dress of the gentlemen at the beginning of the nineteenth century. the groom, it will be noticed (see figure ), wears in addition a leather belt, and the reason for this will not perhaps strike the inquirer straight away. our grandmothers and great-grandmothers did not always drive in carriages, and it was customary for them, when riding on horseback, to sit on a pillion behind a gentleman or a servant. the belt which we now see round the waist of a groom afforded a hold to which they had to cling, in order to prevent themselves from falling off the horse. [illustration: fig. .--the modern groom, showing the belt to which ladies clung when riding on a pillion.] such a livery as we have described is also adopted by the general run of well-to-do people. the aristocracy, however, are more inclined to stand upon ceremony, and through it to make more show. their footmen, who go by the generic name of "jeames," wear plush breeches, silk stockings, and powdered hair. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--a footman in plush breeches and with powdered hair. his "pouter" coat dates from the reign of george iii. (by the courtesy of messrs. f. t. prewett and co.)] a little inquiry will soon show that these peculiarities of dress were those which it pleased the gentlemen of george iii's time to adopt. some flunkeys belonging to the nobility have their breasts ornamented with cords known as aiguillettes, and these give them somewhat of a military appearance, besides reminding us of the old retainers. the coats that go with the plush breeches and are cut away so as to recall the wings of a pigeon--hence the name "pouter" coat--are a special feature of george iii's reign. the coachman's coat is usually a little fuller in the skirt, and carries us back to the time of george ii. in another way this costume is a little older in its style than that of the footman who powders his own hair instead of wearing a wig like his colleague. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--a sheriff's coachman with the full-skirted coat of the time of george ii. (by the courtesy of messrs. f. t. prewett and co.)] in connection with the lord mayor more ceremony still is maintained. his coachmen and footmen appear in all the glory of three-cornered hats, which are decorated with feathers, and their coats are highly ornamented. they are representatives of the very fine gentlemen of george iii's time. on the back of the collar of the lord mayor's coachman, we find an arrangement that looks like an elaborately made rosette of black ribbon (see figure ). this is a survival of the bag-wig, of which we shall have occasion to speak again when dealing with court and military dress, so that we need not go into further details here with regard to this curious vestige. (see page , figure .) [illustration: fig. .--the wig-bag (a survival of the bag-wig) now seen on the back of the collar of the lord mayor's coachman.] this is a progressive age, in spite of the many survivals which still flourish, and when we come to consider the costume of the modern manservant who attends at table, or the waiter in the restaurant, we find that he has come out of his generation, as it were, and has adopted the dress of his masters before they have themselves discarded it. confusion has arisen through this before now, and it has been suggested that if ornamental buttons were worn by the man who serves, the difficulty would be overcome. the writer well remembers being amused when standing in a room at a well-known restaurant, where a private dinner was to be given, to notice the change which suddenly came over the dress of the waiters. when the latter first arrived they had black cloth buttons on their coats, while in a few minutes' time, these same garments were adorned with brass buttons bearing the initials of the firm that provided the dinner. inquiry soon elicited the fact that the men carried with them small brass cases which were sprung on to their ordinary buttons, and at once gave them the appearance of being on the staff, and showed that they were waiters. the almost overwhelming number of buttons which are worn by page-boys must have been a source of wonder to many. they run from neck to waist of a tight-fitting jacket in such a crowded line that the pages usually go by the name of "buttons." occasionally we see the livery ornamented by two other rows of buttons which are useless, and run from the shoulder towards the waist (see figure ) in a way similar to that described as being the case on the coats of his majesty's postilions. on looking at an old book[ ] of fashions we find that a costume called the "dutch skeleton dress" was very fashionable for young boys in (see figure ). in this we find that there were brass buttons arranged in three rows, similar to those we have just described. it is difficult even in the modern page-boy's dress to see the lower edge of his coat, but in the case of the small boy of it was impossible, because his trousers were buttoned on to the outside of it. [illustration: fig. .--a modern page-boy's livery.] [illustration: fig. .--the dutch skeleton dress, fashionable for boys in .] the name of the skeleton dress is interesting, because it points to the buttons marking out the position of the breast bone, and it recalls the story that the lacing on the breast of hussars, which we have interpreted as representing enlarged buttonholes, was intended to give the appearance of ribs. this would be in keeping with the figure of a skull that was worn by some of them on their head-dress. we may imagine that in the page-boys, with the superabundance of buttons in one row, that the other two series have migrated and joined with those which originally fastened the coat. on special occasions such as weddings and coronations, the nobility and members of old families dress their servants in state liveries, and some very interesting costumes appear for the time. for instance, at the wedding of the duke of norfolk in , some of the coachmen and footmen appeared wearing on the shoulder of their livery a "manche" or large hanging sleeve, which is familiar to students of heraldry and may be the origin of the sign usually called the "crooked billet." an interesting little survival is sometimes seen on livery collars. it is a little patch of lace, and is an imitation of the knotched buttonhole or laced hole which was commonly made on elaborate dresses. we get a survival of a livery cap, which was worn by servants generally in the middle of the eighteenth century, in the black cap worn by the drum-major of the foot guards and the bands of the household cavalry. we find that it is also adopted by huntsmen and postilions (see figure ), while jockey caps are of a similar shape. the costume of jockeys is an instance of parti-coloured dress which, apart from the stage, is now chiefly worn in connection with sports such as football and racing. some parti-coloured garments made their appearance early in english history, as we shall see when dealing with the subject of patterns. the cockade is now a particular feature of the liveried servant, and as the story of its evolution is of a particularly striking nature, we will consider it in a special chapter. here and there we find survivals of the old beadle, with his three-cornered hat and his long gown with its curious capes and its bright edging. to find the original wearer of such garments we shall have to look about at the end of the seventeenth century. the watch then wore very large coats with many capes, and from these was developed that of the beadle. no doubt colours and other ornamentation were produced so as to bring the dress of the beadle more into the line with liveries and to give him a more ornamental and imposing appearance. we might also mention that the beadle, to whom we shall once more allude, still makes his appearance and plays his part in the punch and judy show. when we recall the many and varied liveries which the porters belonging to the various places of amusement and business establishments now wear, we cannot help drawing attention to the magnitude of the problem which would confront any one who desired to trace the origin of their clothes. in one detail or another we see the remains of an old livery, while turning from these we find a gaily coloured plastron borrowed from a hussar uniform, and besides the cap there are a host of other features which have been taken from military and civilian dress. railway porters if not menials are the servants of the companies which employ them, and there is one feature of their dress which is worthy of note. it will be seen that their waistcoats, although generally built on the same plan as that of the ordinary individual and having a linen back, are provided with sleeves. it is truly a coat which comes to the waist, such as we shall speak of when dealing with the dress of the guards and other regiments, and it is usually the outermost garment of the porter. if we now turn to the costume of the gentleman, we shall find a very good instance of what mr. paley baildon claims to be done whenever a new garment is adopted. he says that it is always put on over all the others. in the case of the ordinary civilian we have the waistcoat, which was originally an outer garment. then comes the frock-coat or surtout, which at the beginning of the nineteenth century was an overcoat, and over this again in cold weather the modern ulster or top-coat is put. no consideration of servants' dress would be complete without an allusion to the cap and apron of the house- or parlour-maid. to begin with, we see in these a survival of the special dresses which were once adopted by particular trades. the fact that the cap is white points to a connection with the early head-dresses of women which we see now perpetuated by the nuns, and which are relics of the time when it was customary to have linen caps and hoods. perhaps there is some connection between the cap of the servant and the custom which condemns women to wear their hats in church and makes them feel desirous of keeping them on their heads at all kinds of public entertainments. on this question, however, we shall have a word to say later. sometimes servants' caps have strings which, like those that are customarily found on bonnets and on mitres (see page ), are the survival of the ends of a head fillet. the latest development in this direction is a scarf which is allowed to hang down from the backs of ladies' hats, and which may be of so substantial a nature that it looks very much like a fringed towel. the apron can claim a long history, and just as the plush and powder of the footman were once worn by his master, so we may easily discover that the apron was not always the special attribute of those who work or serve. towards the end of the seventeenth century aprons were considered an almost essential part of a fine lady's costume. a little later on, queen anne made and wore them herself, and very gaily ornamented garments they were. in the case of the lower classes, aprons were--as they still often are--provided with bibs. the old name for them was barme-cloth, and under this title chaucer refers to the apron of carpenter's wife as being as white as the morning milk. unless the article of dress which we are discussing was of considerable age, we should hardly have the proverbial expression which defines a man who is always at home as being tied to his wife's apron-strings. another name for an apron with a bib which was pinned to the front of the dress was "pinner," which gives us the word pinafore, which refers now to a kind of overall rather than to an apron. in the costumes of the barge-women and milk-women, where we get a slight survival of characteristic country dress, we have seen that in both cases the apron is always adopted as part of the outfit. (see plate viii.) [illustration: a barge girl with the characteristic bonnet and apron. she is not wearing her small plaid shawl. (_from a photograph by wakefield, brentford._) _plate viii._] the uniform of the hospital nurse partakes somewhat of that of the nun, but at the same time the apron is often one of its most important features. we mention this uniform here because it has become customary of recent years for the nurses who look after the children of well-to-do families to assume the bonnet and veil and severely cut collars and cuffs of the hospital nurse. here again we get a case on all fours with the adoption of evening dress by waiters, and the gradual assumption by the lower classes of the dress of their social superiors. xvi cockades the cockade a degenerated chaperon--the varieties of the cockade--cockade wearers the cockade as we know it (see figure ) is now commonly worn by servants, but, like their clothes generally, it was once used by their masters. the books of an old-established firm of hat manufacturers show that as late as cockades were worn by gentlemen themselves. apparently in the beginning, the sporting of a black cockade meant allegiance to the house of hanover. now the use of the ornaments is supposed to be confined to the servants of royalty and of those in the royal service, though this does not seem to be actually the case. in a letter to the _morning post_[ ] messrs. andré and co. say that "the practice has long been regarded as a convenient and fitting sign of social distinction, and that only such persons should assume the cockade as enjoy hereditary rank or else some position of importance in the state, including all officers, military and civil." yet they can find no trace of the question even having been dealt with by any authority, nor have the classes of persons privileged to display the cockade been at any time accurately defined. [illustration: fig. .--the cockade, known as the "large treble," representing a survival of the chaperon.] sir alfred scott gatty, garter king-at-arms, points out that the matter is really outside the college of arms, and it does not come under the jurisdiction of the lord chamberlain's department, which usually arranges all matters connected with official dress. before, however, we touch on the various kinds of cockades, and mention those by whom the different types are at present worn, it will be well to deal with the construction and evolution of the cockade, and we shall be able to show that it has considerable claims to be considered something more than a mere conventional rosette. as regards actual material, the basis of the cockade consists of leather, which is japanned, while a certain amount of ribbon may also be used. in the case of mourning, we find that the cockade should properly be covered with black cloth (see figure ), but nowadays a piece of crape is often twisted round the one generally worn. the ribbon is usually merely a small bow tied in the middle of the rosette (see figure ), but the centre of the latter may be covered with ribbon and the bow replaced by a button. [illustration: fig. .--a "treble cockade" covered with black cloth for mourning. the concentric circles would appear to represent the twisted liripipe of the chaperon.] the cockades worn by the royal servants on the front of their three-cornered hats on state occasions (see figure ) are large. the rosette has points, while the upper part, or fan, shows them in profusion, and there is no silk bow. the royal cockade for semi-state has a simple fan, while that worn on the silk hat at ordinary times (see figure ) has no fan, but the edges are cut into points and there is a bow of ribbon in the centre. [illustration: fig. .--treble cockade used by chelsea pensioners.] [illustration: fig. .--the regent cockade.] [illustration: fig. .--royal cockade for state occasions.] [illustration: fig. .--ordinary royal cockade.] the ordinary fan cockade is used in various sizes, and is shown in figure . this is called the "treble," and has a bow of ribbon as a rule. a curious variety worn by the chelsea pensioners has no ribbon, while a segment is cut from the lower part of the rosette (see figure ). the only other variety with regard to shape that we have now to mention is the "regent" cockade, which is exactly like the treble, but without the fan. (see figure .) [illustration: two stages in the evolution of the chaperon. fig. .--combined hood and cape. fig. .--enlargement of the peak of the hood to form the liripipe. (after calthrop, by kind permission of messrs. a. and c. black.)] it appears that the cockade can lay claim to have been descended from a very ancient and curious form of head-dress, and mr. calthrop[ ] has traced in a very interesting way the development of this, as well as of the cockade which is a survival of it in miniature. the head-dress in question was called a chaperon, and came into favour in the time of richard ii. it was itself derived from a hood and a cape which were originally worn separately, but afterwards the two were joined together for convenience, so that they could both be donned at the same time. fashion lengthened out the peak of the hood extravagantly until it reached nearly to the ground, and then the prolongation was called a liripipe. next it was ordained that the whole arrangement should be twisted up round the head, so that what was in the beginning a cape with jagged edges stuck out on one side like a cock's comb. [illustration: further development of the chaperon. fig. .--cape and liripipe made into a head-dress that can be altered at will. fig. .--a chaperon ready made up, in order to save trouble. (after calthrop, by kind permission of messrs. a. and c. black.)] it will be noticed that the modern cockade shows the jagged edges sticking up, and it would appear that the rosette represents a coiled-up liripipe. even to-day cockades are of various colours, and, as mr. calthrop points out, the servant's chaperon from which it was derived used to bear the colours of the master's livery. the chaperon is also to be seen on the robes of the knights of the garter at the present day, where it is fixed on the right shoulder as a kind of cape. (see figure .) mr. calthrop also points out that the present head-dress of the french lawyer is another descendant of the chaperon, and that the buttons worn by the members of the legion of honour and other foreign orders are connected with the same idea. a writer in the _sketch_[ ] sees in the rosette and fan of the treble cockade the remnants of the crown and star which we see on military uniforms. he says that the earlier forms seem to have been made of metal, which must surely be a mistake, though the cock of the hat was, as we know, sometimes fastened up with a brooch. the example which he figures, however, and uses in support of his theory, is evidently a helmet plate which displays the star, garter, and st. george's cross, the whole being surmounted by a crown, and in the cockade he claims to see all these elements in a modified condition. if this derivation of the cockade were correct, it would be in keeping with the quotation which the same writer gives from cussan's "handbook of heraldry," that the privilege of wearing a cockade is confined to the servants of officers in the king's service, or those who by courtesy may be regarded as such. the theory is that the servant is a private soldier who when not wearing his uniform retains this badge as a mark of his profession. we cannot help thinking that mr. calthrop's derivation of the cockade is more feasible, though it is not easy to see the remains of the coiled-up liripipe of the chaperon in the way which mr. calthrop represents it in his sketch.[ ] in the majority of the cockades there is no trace of a spiral such as he indicates in his figure, though in the mourning cockade, concentric rings are very clearly shown. a word may now be said as to those whose coachmen and footmen wear cockades. the royal cockade is used by the servants of the king, and by those belonging to members of the royal household. it is large and circular, as we have seen, and half the disk projects above the top of the hat. the regent cockade, which has no fan, is worn by the servants of naval officers, and no part of it is allowed to project above the hat. the servants of the officers in the army, yeomanry, militia, and volunteers wear the treble cockade with the fan, as do also the lords lieutenant and their deputies, as well as the servants of the members of the diplomatic corps. besides this, it appears that the same kind of cockade is worn by the servants of the following: all peers and their sons and daughters, baronets, knights, and sheriffs, judges, justices, and magistrates; members and high officers of parliament and of the civil service; dignitaries of the church, king's counsel, and law officers of the crown. english ambassadors have the fan painted with three stripes of red, white, and blue, and while the edge of the rosette is red, the next part is white, and the centre blue. in this case also the ribbon in the centre shows the same three colours. the cockade of the danish ambassador is of ordinary black leather, but the centre is covered with a rosette of ribbon, red at the edge, with a circle of white next to it, and green in the centre, while the whole is finished off with an ornamental black button or knob. other foreign ambassadors have their cockades coloured upon the same principle as the english; but in some the colours are shown on the fan in bands instead of in stripes, and the centre of the rosette may have segments of different colours instead of rings. in the case of the french ambassador the colours on the fan are in stripes, while those of the rosette are in segments. of recent years cockades have been reduced in size until they have become mere pigmies in connection with the uniform of "chauffeurs," or motorcar drivers. the latter customarily wear a military kind of hat with a mushroom top, and as a cockade fastened on the side of one of these would not look elegant, a very small cockade is now made and fixed in the front of the cap just above the peak. would not one of the wearers of the old cock's-comb turbans be amazed if he could see the most recent outcome of his head-dress in its modern surroundings? there seems to be little doubt but that the "cockade" forms part of the livery of many who have no recognized right to it. perhaps the ease with which it can be assumed is shown by the price lists of jobmasters, in which we find, after the charge for the hire of broughams and victorias, a footnote to the effect that cockades are " d. extra if required." xvii children's dress survivals in children's dress--special school costumes--the blue-coat boy--public school boys--adoption of a special dress at girls' schools children's costume, though characteristic, is in some instances connected with ceremonies, and in others with particular institutions; it may therefore with advantage be considered at this point. we find that for very many centuries in this country, children, except when small babies and in their early years, were dressed practically in the same way as their parents, and looked like men and women in miniature. the ludicrous effect that was sometimes produced is well seen in hogarth's engravings, which date from the time when infants were powdered and patched as well as dressed in a way that made them truly grotesque. a relic of this custom is still to be seen in certain costumes which it is now fashionable for children to wear. possibly the sailor's suit takes the most prominent place, and the highland dress is also a favourite. it is perhaps not very strange that we do not see little boys going about in the uniform of policemen, and until the south african war occupied the attention of this country, boys were seldom if ever seriously dressed as soldiers, but during the struggle to which allusion has been made, it was not an uncommon sight to see small boys in the khaki uniform and slouch hats which were adopted by the troops in africa. now, of course, the knickerbockers of the small boy, and the short skirts of his little sisters, though not absolutely characteristic of extreme youth, are recognized features of children's costume. as regards small infants, it is still customary for some time after they are born to wrap more or less of a bandage round them in order to protect their tender bodies from injury. the modern "binder" is, of course, a relic of swaddling clothes, or those which consisted of a profusion of bandages. these still survive in the holy land. it may here be said that we meet in the word "pupa," which is the scientific term that we apply to a chrysalis, with the old greek name for a baby in swaddling clothes. it is used now because the wings and legs of the future flying insect are hidden in something the same way as are the legs and arms of the much trussed-up baby. from the same word we get the name "puppet" and the french word "poupée," meaning a doll. in roman catholic churches at the time of baptism it is still the custom to place on the head of the baby a white cloth. it is now too small to cover the body, and it is called the chrysome, or chrism cloth, and with it once the newly-baptized infant was swathed. this was worn for a month by the child, and if the latter died within that time the cloth was used as a shroud. the chrysome is really the remains of a series of vestments which in the sixth or seventh century were worn by the newly baptized. the most important part of the costume was the albe, which was probably similar to that worn by the clergy, and a chaplet of flowers was also used to crown the child after baptism. there are in this country still a few monumental brasses called chrysom brasses showing babies in their baptismal robes. a case where the child is swathed up even more rigidly than was customary in the old world is to be seen in the case of the north american indian papoose, which is fastened down to a cradle of board or basket work, and at first is so fixed by the swaddling process that only its head is movable. in some instances several months elapse before even the arms are allowed to be free, and these are fastened up again at night. it is probably owing to deformities that were at first accidentally caused by this bandaging process, that the fashions arose which demand that the shape of the skull in certain races shall be intentionally and artificially altered. to this subject, however, we shall refer again when dealing with the question of the effects of clothes upon the body. as might well be imagined, the petticoats of small boys are a survival, and one which is to be commended in every way. the putting of infants at an early age into jersey knickerbocker suits cannot but be bad for them physically, and it makes them look for all the world like little woollen monkeys. mr. druitt[ ] has described as many as seven brasses of various dates between the years and , which show boys dressed in petticoats. dr. alice vickery thinks that it would be well if infant boys and girls were dressed exactly alike, say up to the age of five or seven. she says it is difficult to judge the extent to which sex bias is imbibed in the earliest years, and we should do our best to postpone it as long as possible. she continues[ ]:--"if boys and girls were dressed alike, taught together and played together, this would do much to direct attention away from, instead of towards, sex distinction. the longer such a system could be maintained the longer would be the period during which rewards and punishments, praise and blame, would attach to actions and conduct, to the exercise of self-control, kindliness and generosity, efficiency, industry and alertness, quite apart from all intrusions of sex idea, and its possibilities of subjection and predominance. that would in itself be a great gain." "the best school for the training of life and conduct is the school of equality, where privilege and subjection are alike unknown, and the co-education of the sexes is a step in the direction of justice and fraternity." "there is one point more on which i will add a few words. i have always been a great sceptic as to the essential physical inferiority of the feminine. it is true that in the aggregate that inferiority does exist, but where can we find a place, a people among whom the development of girlhood has had full and free scope?" the custom for young girls to wear their hair down is also an old one, though married ladies of the fifteenth century are occasionally represented with flowing tresses. at the present day, as a rule, when a girl puts up her hair her petticoats are usually lengthened simultaneously. the age at which these important changes are made varies. for instance, if a girl has a number of unmarried sisters older than herself, the time is often put off. sometimes the term "old-fashioned" is synonymous with "sensible," and people with such ideas very often keep their girls in short frocks until they are really grown up. the two changes in the girls' method of dressing are not, however, always made at the same time. in the upper classes we find a tendency for the long dress to come first. girls, on the other hand, who have to go out into the world as nursemaids and kitchenmaids, may, in order to make themselves look older and more sedate, put up their hair while they are still in short frocks, though it must be said that the effect is not quite pleasing if it is business-like. in the bib of the infant we find a relative of that part of the apron or the more voluminous pinafore which covers the chest. although grown-up women sometimes wear pinafores, these, like the bibs, must now be considered as part of children's dress, though no doubt in the beginning they were derived from the costume of grown-up people. [illustration: fig. a. the cap worn by the scholars of christ's hospital until the middle of the nineteenth century. fig. b. a scholar of christ's hospital. (_by the courtesy of the rev. a. w. upcott, m.a., headmaster of christ's hospital._) _plate ix._] the next subject that we may appropriately consider here is that of the characteristic costumes which are worn in certain schools. in connection with boys, the first case which immediately comes to mind is that of the blue-coat boys, as the scholars of christ's hospital, which was founded in , have come to be called. their blue coat is part of the ordinary dress of the citizen of the reign of edward vi, and the scholarly man at this time had the skirts of his blue coat long, while in other cases they were cut off at the knee. instead of trunks, however, the blue-coat boy wears more modern knickerbockers, but he clings to his yellow stockings. (see plate ix, figure b.) the scholars of christ's hospital have discarded caps (see plate ix, figure a), but the one which should go with their dress is flat, like the one which came into fashion in the reign just mentioned. it was the one afterwards called the statute cap, when elizabeth for the good of trade ordered that "one cap of wool, knitted thick and dressed in england," was to be worn "by all over six years of age except such persons as had twenty marks a year in land and their heirs and such as have borne office of worship." a cap of the same kind was worn by edward vi, and is still part of the dress of beef-eaters at the tower of london. the blue coat afterwards came to be the ordinary livery of serving-men in the sixteenth and early part of the seventeenth centuries, and blue is still a popular colour for coachmen's liveries at the present day. in a similar way we find that certain schools are called grey-coat or green-coat schools, and we have blue schools--for instance, one for boys and another for girls at wells. then there is the red maid school, which was established in at bristol, and in accordance with the founder's will the girls are dressed in red frocks, with white aprons and tippets and plain straw bonnets, trimmed with blue ribbon. in connection with this foundation it may be said that £ is set on one side each year for the award of marriage portions to girls who have left the school. our public schools afford us very interesting cases of special dresses. perhaps no other coat which a boy wears is so well known as the eton jacket. this is accompanied by a tall silk hat. king's scholars who are on the foundation and live "in college" also wear an academical gown of fairly ample proportions. the eton jacket was not always black, and originally the head-dress was a mortar-board, and there was a broad lace collar or bands round the neck (see page ). the black coats and top hats were introduced in as mourning for king george iii, and have been worn ever since. the broad collar which takes its name from eton is probably a survival of lace bands, and is worn over the jacket in the same way. very similar coats are also worn by the younger boys at westminster and at harrow. in the latter case the jacket finishes off in a small point at the back, whereas the jacket worn at eton is cut straight. the older boys at eton wear a morning coat, a stick-up collar, and a white tie. this white tie is also worn by the masters, whether they be clerks in holy orders or not, and it seems to be a survival of a white choker which was wound round and round the stick-up collar, though, on the other hand, it may represent academical bands. at winchester the scholars wear bands, and this is no doubt connected with the use of academical dress, for it is usual for the boys on the foundation of public schools, as we have seen to be the case at eton, to wear gowns. the upper boys at harrow, on the other hand, wear dress-coats with swallow tails; but should, however, a lower boy outgrow his short jacket, he is given what is called "charity" tails. when speeches are made at eton, those who take part in the performance wear dress-coats, knee-breeches, silk stockings, and buckled shoes. some costumes have probably been in existence since the foundation and endowment of the schools, and we can find parallel cases in the dress of some almshouses and hospitals for pensioners. probably the idea originally underlying the wearing of a special dress is the same as is to be seen in modern charity schools, where all the boys or girls are dressed alike. it must simplify the tailoring and dressmaking arrangements, but at the same time it intentionally or unintentionally brands the children. nevertheless, we see that the boys at most aristocratic and celebrated schools are in very much the same kind of boat. to return to eton again, we might mention one or two fashions in the ordinary dress which are curious. it is ordained that the lowest button of the waistcoat should be left unbuttoned and the bottom of the trousers should be turned up, while it is part of the performance to thrust the hands deeply into the trouser pockets. if a boy elects to wear an overcoat, and he does not occupy a certain definite position or status in the school, public opinion forces him to keep the collar of his top coat turned up. of course, schools generally, and sometimes the various houses in important schools, make a particular point of school or house colours. at eton, on the fourth of june, in connection with the boating there are interesting ornamentations added to the straw hats in the shape of flowers, and three boys who act as coxswains wear the uniform of an admiral and carry bouquets. the fourth of june celebrations were instituted to take the place of the festival known as the eton montem. the ceremony consisted of a procession to a little hill near slough, when many old and interesting costumes were worn. the custom came to an end in the early years of queen victoria's reign, and its immediate object was the collecting of money with which to send the head boy of the year to the university. it seems, however, to have originated in a piece of folk-lore, probably connected with the old tree worship, but sanctioned by the early christian authorities as a semi-religious function. in this connection it is pleasant to think that flowers seen in the hats on the fourth of june are a survival of the green branches and garlands that were once brought back each year from the montem expedition. when dealing with children's dress we ought not to forget the special costumes that have been adopted in some private girls' schools, nor how much is being done in them towards disseminating ideas on the subject of dress reform. for, after all, it is to the women of the future that we must look if any alteration is to be generally made. the introduction of exercises in the gymnasium has necessitated the adoption of a drilling dress in very many cases, but there are schools where such a costume is generally worn at all times, and others where it forms the working dress, while long skirts are only put on when no active exertion is expected. [illustration: fig. .--dress worn by the girls at coombe hill school, westerham. it is a modification of the dervish djibah.] at coombe hill school, westerham, in kent, the dress takes the form of a tunic with wide sleeves which come to the elbow (see figure ). it is put over the head and has no fastenings. it is modelled upon the djibah of the dervishes, and is made of soft woollen material of a fawn colour. the yoke is of green embroidery and the underslip is tussore. under the tunic a blouse of white silk is worn, and the sleeves, of course, show from the elbow downwards. the rest of the costume consists of cloth knickerbockers and stockings, with sandals or shoes that are made to the shape of the foot. this dress is worn on all occasions at school, and the girls are very proud of it. [illustration: fig. .--dress worn by the girls at the croft school, betley, when at work.] at the croft school, betley, in school and when any basket-making, book-binding, drilling, or morris-dancing is going on, a special costume is brought into use. in this case it consists of a tunic without sleeves, of red material with a velvet yoke, and shoulder straps (see figure ). as a finishing touch there is a girdle tied loosely in a bow. it is not placed round the waist proper, but drops towards the left knee as did the sword-belts which the knights in olden times wore over their armour. a white silk blouse shows above the yoke round the neck and has full sleeves. the knickerbockers in this case are made of red knitted stockinette instead of cloth. the whole costume has been carefully worked out, and miss hodgson, one of the principals of the school, has an interesting doll which is dressed exactly like the girls. it should be said that all the girls wear this dress whether they are nine or nineteen years old, and as it is much appreciated by them there is no doubt but that when they come to have girls of their own they will support any movement in favour of the more general adoption of a sensible costume. xviii wedding garments the veil--bridesmaids and bribery--old shoes--orange blossom weddings are ceremonies in connection with which we may look for some points of interest, as customs in connection with them change but slowly. in this country, if convention be followed, the bride's dress is of white. the veil that is worn recalls the primitive head-dress that was bound by a fillet, and, like that of the nun, may well be derived from the wimple, though it is said to represent the canopy which in many countries, and by the jews in our own, is held over, or erected above, the bride and bridegroom. flowers take a part in the adornment of the bride, and the special use of orange blossom will be dealt with when discussing wedding crowns. it is customary for the bridesmaids to be dressed alike, and they often wear some ornament which has been presented to them by the bridegroom. it may be that this is a survival like many other wedding customs of the old marriage by capture, for in some countries the girl friends of the bride will not allow her to be approached by the bridegroom until he has given them presents, or in reality bribed them. now, like tipping, it is merely a custom that must be followed, but originally no doubt the bridegroom and his accomplice, the best man, might have found that what they could not do by force they might encompass by bribery. the expression "to tie the nuptial knot" takes its origin from the fact that, among the babylonians, the priest who conducted the wedding used to take a thread from the garment of the bride and another from that of the bridegroom. these he tied together into a knot and presented to the bride as a symbol of the binding nature of the union between her and her husband. there is an article of dress which often plays a part at weddings, for old shoes are usually thrown after the newly-married pair, while boots, with a hole in them, filled with rice, are hung from the backs of carriages, and satin slippers have on occasion been fastened to the carriage door handle of the railway train which speeds the pair on their honeymoon. we all know that the throwing of old slippers is intended to bring luck to the bride and bridegroom, but it is not apparent what particular form it is intended that the blessing should take, and the origin of the custom is difficult to determine. mr. james e. crombie,[ ] after carefully considering the various superstitions connected with weddings and shoes, has come to the conclusion that the intention is to ensure that the young couple shall be blessed with children, and that old shoes are thrown because of the idea that the essence or life of the individual that wore them remains in them, and makes them powerful talismans. in this connection it may be well to consider the importance which shoes have assumed at various times in connection with weddings and otherwise. so long ago as the year , a law in hamburg ordered that the bridegroom should give his bride a pair of shoes, and it is still a custom in transylvania for the bridegroom to make a similar present on his wedding morning. in greece the best man puts a new pair of boots, supplied by the bridegroom, on to the feet of the bride when she leaves her father's house. in bulgaria, a money present which the bridegroom makes to the relatives of the bride is called shoe money, and with it the father of the family buys shoes for it. this money is said to be a relic of the price that was paid to the clan from which a wife was taken. shoes have figured as part of wages, and they were thrown over the heads of the o'neils by the o'cahans when the former were chosen chiefs. this was done to symbolize the superiority of the throwers. in russia, the wives as part of the wedding festivities remove their husband's boots in order to show their subjection to him, though while the bride dutifully takes off her lord and master's boots as a sign of subserviency, she always hits him on the head with one of them to show that she is not one whit inferior to him. it is said that the hebrew word for shoe and wife are identical, and a bedouin form of divorce is "she is my slipper, i have cast her off." the casting of a shoe over land, as mentioned in the bible, was symbolical of conquering it. as regards fruitfulness, the eskimo women carry a piece of an old shoe which has once been worn by european sailors, to make them prolific mothers. women who are blessed with families in china present shoes to the "mother goddess," and those who wish for children borrow these shoes and vow that if the desired result is effected they will present another one to the divinity when the borrowed shoe is returned. mr. crombie gives a number of instances to show that there is still a belief that the soul of persons may live in their shoes. in the museum of northern antiquities at copenhagen is a mummified corpse of a woman who was intentionally drowned in a bog, and from her body, after the murder, a shoe had been removed. during the arran murder case at edinburgh, in , it transpired that the boots of the murdered man had been removed by the local constable, who had buried them on the seashore between high and low water marks. no explanation was forthcoming, though the man admitted that it was by the orders of his senior officer that he put them out of sight. there is no doubt but that the idea underlying the action was that of preventing the ghost of the murdered man from walking. it must not be forgotten that shoes used to be thrown after anybody when he or she was starting on a journey, which in old days was a risky business, and ben jonson wrote, "would i had kemp's shoes to throw after you." this has been interpreted as meaning that kemp was a lucky individual, and that something of him and his good fortune remained in his shoes. summing up his remarks, mr. crombie says with regard to throwing shoes at weddings that by doing so "we should be doing for the young couple, in a more pleasant way, exactly the same as the relatives of the galla bride did for her when they anointed her from top to toe with bullock's blood. we should be doing for them with shoes what our aryan ancestors did for their cattle with the sacred parna rod, and what the herdsmen of sweden and the mark do to this day, when on the st of may they watch on which branch of the mountain ash the sun first strikes, and then, cutting it down, beat the yearling heifers with it on the loins and haunches, repeating at each stroke a verse in which they pray that as sap comes into the birch so may milk fill the cow's udder. we should be doing with shoes what the romans did in ancient rome at the festival of the lupercalia, when the boys, armed with strips of the skin of the slaughtered goats, used to rush through the city striking all they met, and where women, particularly those who desired to be made fruitful, placed themselves naked in the way, and received the blows of the luperci on their palms." at a wedding sometimes the priest's vestments play a part. it is customary in some continental countries for the priest to wrap the hands of the bride and bridegroom in his stole, and even in some of our english churches the contracting parties are instructed to take hold of the stole by the officiating clergyman. we might mention that in many countries the bridal dresses are very beautiful, and are often survivals of very old-fashioned costumes. the norwegian bridal dress is an instance of this. the wearing of a bridal crown is also a custom in scandinavia, where it is said that every parish possesses its special crown which is the property of the church, but the use of it is only sanctioned when the bride bears an irreproachable character. the wearing of orange blossom has apparently the same meaning, and it may be mentioned that on funeral monuments or brasses the wearing of a garland by the effigy of a girl means that she died a virgin. xix mourning colours associated with mourning--widows' weeds--perennial mourning the ceremonies connected with death and burial are no exception to the rule which we have laid down, that on solemn and important occasions primitive customs and costumes are most commonly to be met with. the making of clothes from bark has come to have a special significance in the case of races which no longer adopt this in everyday life. the kayans of borneo now ordinarily wear smart foreign stuffs which they get from traders; but when they go into mourning they discard these garments, and return once more to the old native garment of bark cloth. the putting on of sackcloth is no doubt a similar custom, and dishevelling of locks is also in keeping with it. among the many curious customs connected with funeral rites which survive in civilized countries, the adoption of some kind of mourning dress is very general. sombre black has come to be associated in our minds with mourning, but other colours are used among other nations, and even in this country. the drapery with which the hats of the hired mourners at a child's funeral are veiled are white instead of black. white ostrich feathers may appear on the horses' heads, and white adorns their trappings. royalty is still privileged to have a special mourning colour--purple is used at state funerals, and grey is looked upon as half-mourning. in china white is the colour used instead of black, and other oriental nations wear yellow. in modern egypt, at a funeral, the women, whether relatives or servants of the deceased, are distinguished by a strip of linen or muslin bound round the head and tied in a single knot behind. this stuff is usually of a blue colour. the women of ancient egypt, as shown on the walls of tombs, wore a similar bandage round their head. excessive mourning is now becoming a thing of the past, and there is no need now for such laws as were made at the end of the fifteenth century to restrict extravagance in mourning attire. nowadays men may follow the custom observed by those in the army and those who wear highland dress of putting a black band round their arm. at the most they wear black clothes and put a wider band round their hats. among women it is only widows who wear a special costume. it is not a becoming one, though sometimes a smartness is imparted to it that is a little out of keeping with the idea of mourning. now a widow's dress is called weeds, though this term at one time signified the whole of any woman's costume. for the origin of the widow's veil we must go back to mediæval times, when the dress of widow ladies was similar to that of the convent. it was the custom of elderly ladies whose husbands had died to become what is called vowesses, and to go into seclusion. a relic perhaps of the practice is to be found in the kind of prejudice which still exists in the minds of some people against second marriages. the white cuffs of the widow recall those of the nurse, and similar ones are used by some members of the legal profession as part of their mourning. when dealing with military costume we shall find that signs of mourning, when once adopted, have in some cases never been wholly abandoned. there are similar vestiges like those found in the dress of public schools, and there has been a suggestion of the same thing happening in the navy. in connection with the hired mourners or mutes at funerals, now so solemnly habited in black, it may be interesting to recall that the old roman mimes, of whom we have seen that punch was originally one, were employed at funerals to imitate the language and manners of the deceased. xx costume connected with the christian religion the surplice and "the cloth"--the civil origin of vestments--special vestments--processional vestments, so called--nuns' dress--the choker the dress worn by clergy when conducting religious ceremonies offers many opportunities for studying the development of garments, and illustrates at the same time how the dress used by a special class may evolve more slowly and on different lines from the same clothes that may be worn by the people at large. the case is similar to that of animals or plants which are isolated from the other members of their species, and in course of time come to differ very markedly from their far-away relatives who flourish in the old home. we shall see that many of the ecclesiastical vestments can be traced to civil dress; but for the moment we may discuss those which are in use at the present time, and which afford additional evidence in support of our statement that the more important the ceremonial, the more ancient the costume. at the present day we find that the clergy of the church of england preach either in a white surplice or in a black gown. we can trace the black gown to an order made by james i, but at the present day the vestments worn by the clergy of the presbyterian churches are rather professional, or academical like a barrister's gown, than properly ecclesiastical. we have already mentioned the bands (see p. ) which are worn with the black gown, and here we might mention that when the preacher ministers to a recognized congregation he wears them, though if he is ordained but is conducting an occasional service he does not. charles i gave instructions that the surplice should be worn, and had an act passed giving him power to regulate clerical costume. but the clergy sent in a petition that matters should be left as they were, and this request seems to have been granted, as some of the ministers at the time expressed the fear that his majesty would order them to wear hoods and bells. mr. macalister[ ] says that the surplice was originally invented to take the place of the albe, which was made so small that it was difficult to put it over the cassock when the latter garment was thick and lined with fur. originally the surplice was put on over the head, in the same way as the albe, the place of which it took, but some two hundred years ago the surplice was made open in front and fastened at the neck with a button. the reason for this is that in this way the surplice could be put on without disarranging the enormous wigs which were worn during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. the cassock, to which we have already alluded, was a long, loose coat or gown, which was worn by both sexes from the eleventh century onwards. the name was applied to the coat adopted by foot soldiers in the time of elizabeth. in the case of the laity, it was abandoned in favour of the shorter and more convenient coat. the black coat of the modern clergy, whom we term "the cloth," no doubt represents it, while it is of course worn ordinarily by many roman catholic clergy, and some high churchmen, as an everyday garment, for which it was originally intended. the row of buttons which now fasten the long cassocks from neck to the foot have been humorously compared by lord grimthorpe to the close row of rivets on a boiler. with regard to the development of the more ornamental dress of the clergy there is a great deal to be said. in the past, two separate origins for it have been suggested, and to pursue either of these would be to take us far back into history. it has been claimed, in the first place, that modern church vestments have been derived from those of the levitical priesthood. the other idea is that the ceremonial dress of the clergy was derived from the civil costume of the romans. it appears, however, that careful researches have shown that the decorations which have given ecclesiastical vestments their highly ornamented character--in which they resemble certainly those used by the jews in temple worship--have been gradually acquired. the dress of the ancient christians was simple, and it seems likely that owing to the poverty of the early church rich clothing could hardly have been adopted. besides, for many centuries there is no mention of such vestments as we are considering, and no records as to their having been derived from jewish models. on the other hand, everything points to a more natural origin of the raiment concerned. flowing garments, as we have already seen, give dignity, and we find that among the romans such were used in dignified leisure or on occasions of state, in contradistinction to the dress of active existence, which consisted of a short tunic or chiton. it is with the first kind of dress that we have to deal. it consisted of a tunic either short or long, over which was worn the toga which was capable of the same variety of arrangement as the plaid which still survives. even when the toga was given up by the people generally, on the founding of the roman empire, it continued to be used in certain cases. it was etiquette to wear a toga when dining with the emperor or going to court; advocates wore it, as did clients when they visited their patrons, and it was also adopted at funerals and when sacrifices were being made. on the face of it, it would appear likely that those who ministered to the early christian church would follow the general custom. nothing, perhaps, affords better evidence of this having taken place than an illustration which is considered authentic of st. gregory the great with his father and mother. as mr. marriott[ ] points out, if it were not for the papal pallium--that is to say, the band round his shoulders--on which crosses are embroidered, and the book of the gospels which he holds in his hand, it would be hard to distinguish which was the bishop and which the senator. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--st. gregory the great with his father gordianus, who was a senator, on his right, and his mother sylvia on his left. this shows the similarity between ecclesiastical and civil costume in early times. from an authentic picture (after marriott).] from this dress it is claimed, by those who have carefully gone into the question, that ecclesiastical vestments have been developed. in connection with this, mr. macalister[ ] makes the following remarks: "fashion in dress or ornaments is subject to constant changes, which, though perhaps individually trifling, in time amount to complete revolutions; but the devotees of any religion, true or false, are by nature conservative of its doctrines or observances. at first the early christians wore the same costume both at worship and at home. fashion," mr. macalister continues, "would slowly change unchecked from year to year, while ecclesiastical conservatism would retard such changes as far as they concern the dress worn at divine service; small differences would spring into existence between everyday dress and the dress of the worshipper. these differences, at first hardly perceptible, would increase as the process went on, until the two styles of costume became sharply distinguished from one another." in this connection it will be interesting to mention those vestments which antiquarians have traced to roman costume. the albe takes its name from the _tunica alba_, which was used as a purely secular garment until the ninth century. it was worn by all the ministers and deacons, but as the latter had no vestment above the albe, it came to be the special characteristic of the deacons. usually, as the name implies, the albe was white, but in this country coloured albes were sometimes used. we have already seen that the surplice was derived from the albe, and mr. marriott has brought forward all the evidence that he can to show that white was the colour of the vestments at the earliest times in the history of the church. his arguments, however, do not seem to be conclusive, and his inferences do not commend themselves to mr. macalister. the latter thinks, however, that the view that white was the colour appropriated in primitive times to the dress of the christian ministry is preferable to the theory that the early vestments were of the same elaborate description as their mediæval successors. he is of opinion, nevertheless, that the passages upon which mr. marriott bases his arguments are quite consistent with a third alternative, namely, that no distinctive vestments were set apart for the exclusive use of the christian minister during the first four centuries of the christian era. the dalmatic was a wide gown or tunic with long full sleeves, which was derived apparently from the albe and used by persons in high secular positions before it was adopted by the church. in the mediæval period the dalmatic was slit for a short distance up either side and fringes were added to decorate the slits, the hems, and the ends of the sleeves. in this style the garment was worn by a bishop. there were, however, only fringes on the left sleeves and along the left side in the form of this vestment which was appropriated to a deacon. most elaborate explanations were offered by mediæval writers for this difference, which seems merely to be a matter of convenience for the deacon, who served at the altar. it was important that he should have his right side free, and the heavy fringes would have got into his way. one of the ideas with regard to the fringe was that the absence from the right side symbolizes our freedom from care in the world to come; but why, mr. macalister asks, was not the bishop to be exempt from care in the future world? in connection with the coronation of english sovereigns the dalmatic is still used, as well as representatives of other ecclesiastical vestments, but to these we shall refer again. it is not at all unlikely that the stole which a clergyman wears after the fashion of an untied tie, and which hangs from his neck nearly to the ground, is really the same thing as our handkerchief, and it is certain that it was employed originally as a scarf or _orarium_. in many roman monuments which are not of an ecclesiastical character, scarves are worn over the rest of the dress. they pass over the left shoulder, diagonally, towards the right side, and are fastened under the right arm. they are not to be confounded with the two bands of purple (or _clavi_) which on the tunics of senators and other important men ran round the sides of the neck openings and down to the lower hem. it is probable that the scarves were used in the same way as favours and "colours" among ourselves. it is recorded that aurelian was the first emperor who distributed "oraria" as presents to the people to be worn as favours. in this connection we must not forget the ribbons of the knightly orders, which we have already mentioned when speaking of the baldric. the fourth council of toledo enacted that deacons should wear their stoles over their left shoulder so that their right arm might be free to facilitate the execution of their duties in divine service. an english church vestment actually goes by the name of the scarf, and is a broad black band of silk worn in the same way as the stole. it is probably a modification of some article of university costume, possibly the tippet (see p. ), and is worn by doctors of divinity and the clerical authorities of collegiate and cathedral bodies. the outdoor garment which replaced the toga took several forms. one of these had already been in use for some time as part of the dress of the lower classes and of slaves. speaking briefly, it rose in the world, and emperors even wore it when they were travelling. one form, called the casula, is of interest to us because it is the forerunner of the chasuble. so much attention has been drawn to ecclesiastical vestments of recent years, owing to the adoption by english high church clergy of those in which roman catholic priests celebrate mass, that it may be perhaps of interest, even at the risk of recapitulation, to consider them. it should be said at the outset that the stripes of embroidery, which are often very elaborate and enriched with jewels, which appear on vestments such as the amice and albe, are called apparels. to garments which are white and have at times to be washed, these ornaments are sewn or otherwise attached, so that they can be removed when it is necessary and replaced. the amice we have not yet mentioned, as it is of mediæval origin and did not come into our consideration of the evolution of modern vestments from roman dress. it was a rectangular piece of linen, about thirty-six inches by twenty-five inches, with an apparel sewn along one edge and a cross embroidered in the centre. this the priest at the present time wears round his neck. the outer garment or chasuble, which is richly ornamented, we have traced to the garment which replaced the roman toga, and as it is without sleeves and has become heavier, it has been found necessary to slit up the sides. under this the stole is worn over the albe, and only its ends appear beneath the chasuble. (see figure .) there is ornamentation on the sleeves of the albe, where they show, and on the back and front of it where it shows below the chasuble. [illustration: fig. .--a priest in the vestments now worn at the celebration of the eucharist.] the apparels, according to druitt, are possibly the remains of the purple bands and other ornamentations of the roman tunic, from which we have seen that the albe was derived. over the left arm the priest carries a maniple which is something like a stole. this was originally made of linen, and worn over the fingers of the left hand. there is no doubt but that it was once a napkin and, according to mr. g. c. coulton,[ ] originally used in the fashion of a modern pocket-handkerchief. that it was a napkin is shown by quotations from ancient writers, and there seems no doubt also that many refinements of roman civilization, of which the pocket handkerchief was one, were lost in the later middle ages. in fact, the handkerchief only began to come into general use in polite society about henry viii's reign, and the maniple of the ministrant at the altar must have lost its original use, or bernard would not have twice warned him against blowing his nose on his chasuble or surplice. when speaking of the handkerchief, there is another use which we may mention. it was often employed for ceremonial purposes in connection with the giving of presents, and this idea seems to have come from eastern lands, where gifts are wrapped in highly ornamental covers. in the parable of the talents, one of them, it will be remembered, was wrapped in a napkin, and even to-day the labourer has his dinner taken to him in a brightly coloured cotton handkerchief. among the special vestments of bishops are the dalmatic, which we have already described, and the tunicle, which originally did not differ from it, and began to be worn beneath it about the twelfth century. others are the buskins or stockings (which were originally reserved for the pope), sandals, ring, gloves, and mitre, together with a pastoral staff adapted from the shepherd's crook. archbishops have a cross staff and a pallium or pall which is probably derived from the same ancestor as the stole, namely the orarium, which, we have seen, was a favour or distinction granted by the roman emperor. the word pallium has been applied to a number of garments in the past, many of which were of a flowing character, and some writers have seen in the archbishop's pall a small vestige of what was once an ample vestment. early pictures, however, show the pall looped round the shoulders with one end hanging in front of the body and one behind. mr. macalister says that it was difficult sometimes to distinguish between it and the stole, and that the next step in its evolution was to knot the free ends to the loops as shown in the eighth, ninth, and tenth centuries. from this it was but an easy step to the final form which consists of an oval loop with a long tail pendent from each of its ends, so that when it is worn on the person it makes a capital "y" on the back and another on the chest. it should be pointed out that the pall must not be confounded with the apparel of the chasuble called the orphrey, which also has a "y" shape. in connection with the manufacture of the pall there are some interesting proceedings. it is made from the wool of two lambs, and they are solemnly blessed on saint agnes's day in the church dedicated in the name of that saint at rome. the animals are chosen with special reference to their whiteness and goodness, and are carried into rome in separate baskets, which are slung over a horse's back. on the way to the church the pope makes the sign of the cross from a window over the lambs, and they, after mass has been celebrated and they have been blessed by the celebrant, go back to the pope, who sends them to a nunnery, where they are shorn and the wool made into palls by the nuns. the modern pall has six black crosses on it, but previous to the eighth century it had sometimes four, sometimes eight, worked in purple. at first the pall was fastened by gold pins to the chasuble to keep it in place, but just as ladies now use little lead weights to keep parts of their dress in position, so lead was used to hold the archbishop's pall in place. the effigy of albrect von brandenburg in , at mayence, shows two palls, which probably indicate that he was archbishop of magdeburg as well as of mayence. this repetition can hardly be strictly correct, as the pall could only be worn within the archbishop's province. archbishops in olden days appeared to have had no authority to act until they received their pall from the pope. the honour was, however, bestowed occasionally on bishops. the pall is generally shown on the coats of arms of archbishops. (see figure .) the cope is one of the so-called processional vestments. it does not appear before the ninth century, and is apparently connected with roman dress. it was an outer cloak without sleeves, and originally was used as a protection from the weather at open-air processions in rome, its ancestor probably being the lacerna. in a similar way the almuce was a hood to protect the head, and such articles, as mr. macalister says, the clergy would continue to adopt in their cold and draughty churches or in open-air processions. [illustration: fig. .--the coat of arms of thomas à becket. showing an archbishop's pall.] of monastic habits the earliest was the benedictine, consisting of a cassock over which was worn the cowl--a large, loose gown, with hanging sleeves and a hood attached to it. in the old times the costume of abbesses and nuns resembled the mourning habit of widows, who often retired to end their days in a convent. when the english church was reformed, the mass vestments practically disappeared. the first prayer book of edward vi prescribed for the holy communion a white albe, without any apparels, with a vestment or cope, while the assistant priest or deacons were to wear albes with tunicles. the cope was also to be worn with a plain albe or surplice on wednesdays and fridays when there was no communion. the bishop was to wear a rochet, a surplice or albe, and a cope or vestment. the second prayer book prohibited the use of the albe, vestment, or cope to the minister, allowing him only a surplice, while the archbishop or bishop was allowed a rochet. the act of uniformity upheld the ornaments rubric of the first prayer book of edward vi, and this has never been superseded. the lawn sleeves of the modern bishop developed from the rochet, which was a kind of modified albe, which at first had a kind of tight-fitting sleeves or none at all. over this rochet is worn a black satin chimere, and as it was difficult to get this over the bishop's sleeves, they were removed from the rochet and are now fastened to the chimere. the black scarf we have already considered. it is customary at the present day for clergy of the english church to wear the academical hood of their university degree over their surplices. this is ordained by the fifty-eighth canon, but ministers who are not graduates are permitted to wear, instead of hoods, "some decent tippet of black, be it not silk." it appears that in the time of elizabeth, in everyday dress, ministers wore a gown and some of them a silk hood. the tippet is a survival of the almuce, which we mentioned in connection with the cope, and is one of the so-called processional dresses. it must therefore not be confounded with the amice, which is a truly ecclesiastical vestment. as bearing on the conservatism of the church in matters of dress, we may mention that in holland, until recent times, the clergy wore a very old-fashioned dress, or perhaps it may better be described as a picturesque uniform, consisting of an old three-cornered hat, and a coat resembling the ordinary evening dress-coat, having a long pleated strip called "the mantle" hooked on the neck, and obviously being a survival from an early and more ample gown of some kind. they wore knee-breeches buckled at the knees, and buckled shoes, but this costume was only used when the minister was officiating at service. some of the heads of the churches in scotland still adopt a kind of court dress. in turning for a moment again to the everyday dress of the clergy, the method of fastening the characteristic white choker at the back seems to have come from the bands. thackeray in "the newcomes" uses the name choker as meaning a white necktie, and it was also applied to the old leather stocks which the clerical collar, in its stiffness, resembles. the bishop's hat we have already alluded to, as showing the stage in a process of cocking, the brim being tied to the crown by strings. the clerical gaiters we can derive from the old episcopal buskins, while the apron appears to be a vestige of the cassock to which we have before referred. the dress of monks usually consists of a tunic or closed gown and scapular, while there may be one or more open gowns with a hood at the back. nuns or sisters of mercy are so commonly seen in our streets, and they do so much for the benefit of the poor, and take such a part in educational matters, that their dress is very familiar to us. it is difficult to say how old it may not be, and though stiff hoods similar to those which are now in use by nuns were adopted by women generally in tudor times, we find in the head-dress of henry ii's reign the counterpart of the linen bands which surround the face and hide the hair. the other garments of nuns may have the same origin as ecclesiastical vestments, for the dress of the roman women was very much like that of the men. (see figures and - .) there are, of course, many orders, congregations, and communities of nuns, but we may describe the dress of one of the latter, and then make a few additional remarks. in the case of the kilburn sisters of the church, who are english catholics--but who have dedicated their lives to religion in the same way as the roman catholic nuns--the indoor dress consists of a white cap, the descendant of the norman chin-band, which fits tightly round the head--as the hair of all nuns is, of course, cut close--and it is gathered round the face with a string. this cap, if it comes down low on the forehead, correspondingly covers the chin, but in many cases the latter is free. over the white cap in indoor dress a black veil is worn in the case of professed nuns, a blue veil by novices, while postulants, who may be taken as corresponding to probationers in a hospital, wear only a cap, though in chapel they have a white veil as well. round the neck of the sister is a white collar, which in this case is separate from the cap and buttons on to it at one side. this collar, which like the veil may be traced to the wimple of norman and later ladies, is also called a breast cloth or a gremial, and may be, as we have indicated, made in one piece with the cap. in outdoor dress a stiff white hood is placed over the indoor head-dress, and over that again comes the outdoor black veil. it should be mentioned that the kilburn sisters now pin their veils to the sides of their linen caps in exactly the same way that the dame in the time of the early plantagenets did her wimple to the sides of her chin-band. for working sisters, the rest of the costume is a habit with skin-tight sleeves, though there are also most voluminous outer sleeves which are detachable and can be removed. a small cape is buttoned across the chest, and the number of buttons corresponds with the letters in the word "obedience." an apron is also worn and a thick girdle, to one of the hanging ends of which a cross is attached. other sisters wear a scapular with shoulder-straps, over a white cape. nuns are not allowed to wear gloves, and some orders use sandals, though absolutely barefooted orders exist. [illustration: fig. .--the head-dress of a nun showing the veil and breast-cloth derived from the wimple, the cap which represents the chin-cloth, together with the frontal and the hood.] [illustration: fig. .--the head-dress of a lady of the time of henry ii. the wimple is shown covering the chin- and head-bands (after calthrop).] [illustration: fig. .--the chin-band and forehead strap after the wimple has been removed (after calthrop).] the lay sisters of the community under consideration wear a blue habit and a white cap with flaps. some orders, in addition to the white cap, wear a plain band round the forehead over it, which is called a frontal, and is seen in the dress of henry ii's time. (see figures and .) professed sisters wear a wedding ring on the third finger of their right hand. the white outdoor stiffened hoods often stand right up from the head in a very striking way, and sometimes no veils are worn. some of the caps, which are made in one piece with the collar, are fastened under the chin by two strings, and the goffered edges of the collar recall the bands of the stuart period. xxi sunday clothes the significance of sunday clothes--the wearing of hats in church by ladies sunday clothes are a time-honoured institution, though it is a sign of the times that many now make no difference between their weekday costume and that which they wear on the day of rest, or if they do, they only put on garments which are appropriate to the relaxations in which they are accustomed to indulge. st. jerome and st. clement both exhorted the early christian worshippers to wear a special dress for worship, and the jews in their synagogues put on a vestment called a talith, which is used by the whole of the congregation as well as by the officiating minister. we quote the following passage from st. clement[ ] because it deals with the question of women having their heads covered while at church: "the wife and the husband should take their way unto the church, in seemly apparel, with unaffected gait, and speech refrained; having love unfeigned; pure in body and pure in heart; fitly decked for prayer to god. and this further let the woman have: let her wholly cover her head (unless perchance she be at home), for so dressed she will have respect and be withdrawn from gazing eyes. and if thus with modesty, and with a veil, she covereth her own eyes, she shall neither be misled herself, nor shall she draw others, by the exposure of her face, into the dangerous path of sin. for this willeth the word; seeing that it is meet for the woman that she pray with covered head.... but then so as they, who are joined to christ, adorn themselves, in a more solemn fashion, for assemblies of the church, even such should they ever be, even so be fashioned, all the days of their life. 'to be, not seem to be,' let that be their watchword; gentle, reverent, full of holy love, at one time not less than at another. "but it is not so, indeed. somehow doth it come about, that, with change of place, they change both their habit and their manners; even as the polypus is said to change each one his colour to the semblance of the rock whereby he dwells." it will be remembered that not long ago objection was taken by a minister to women appearing in his church without any hats. it would appear that the whole custom is a relic of that still observed in eastern countries, where women cover not only their heads, but also their faces, though, as pointed out in an earlier chapter (see page ), in some places it is still considered more immodest to uncover the back of the head than to expose any other part of the person; and in egypt, for instance, an arab woman disturbed when drawing water will throw her single garment over her head in order to hide it. one is rather afraid that those ladies who follow the lines laid down by st. clement as to covering their heads in church sometimes obey his injunctions in the letter rather than in the spirit. for scoffers have been found who say that one of the reasons why fashionable ladies go to church is to show their own new hats and gowns and to look at those belonging to their neighbours. the question of covering the head was touched upon when dealing with servants' dress in connection with the cap of the housemaid. (see page .) the greatest contrast between sunday and weekday clothes is to be looked for in the country among agricultural labourers, as the cessation of labour gives an opportunity for discarding the rough and heavy garments of the field in favour of something lighter and of better quality, and this quite apart from the religious idea which no doubt first led to the practice. probably the custom of putting on sunday clothes in the country will survive until the rural exodus, which has unfortunately begun, has led to the complete depopulation of our villages. xxii academical dress gowns and hanging sleeves--the forerunner of the hood--the origin of the doctor's hat--the evolution of the mortar-board many complaints have been very justly made against the solemnity, if not the ugliness, of men's modern evening dress. on important occasions it may be more or less enlivened by the ribbons and stars of various orders, but we really get a return to something of mediæval brightness at those functions connected with the universities at which academical dress is worn. then the black coats and trousers are practically hidden, in many cases by scarlet, by purple, and other coloured gowns. occasionally there are combinations of colours which are trying to the eyes of many, but on the whole the effect is one that is pleasing and worthy of repetition. academical dress is in itself a survival, and the gay colours are almost enough to tell us this. records exist which show that in the fifteenth century they were already adopted by the graduates of our universities. the evidence which has been brought forward as to the origin of academic costume points to its having been derived from that of the clergy; but there are interesting connections with civil dress, as we shall see. one of the special features of many academic gowns is their long hanging sleeves, and we shall find that so long ago as the time of william rufus sleeves had grown so long that it had become convenient to make a hole through them through which the hand and forearm could be protruded. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--hanging sleeve of the fifteenth century.] these sleeves took upon themselves all sorts of forms, and they were made so long and narrow that they resembled very much the elongation of the hood which was called a liripipe. occasionally it was found necessary to knot them so that they should not trail upon the ground. very few parts of dress have varied so much as sleeves, and it is said that any costume can be dated by an examination of the sleeves. nowadays, as in the past, the length of the sleeve and of the gown itself indicates the status of the member of the university. at oxford, for instance, the undergraduate's gown is so short that it is hardly worthy of the name, and it is without sleeves that act as such. the scholar's gown is more voluminous, and the gowns of the bachelors and masters of arts are more important again, while the sleeves belonging to the latter reach nearly to the ground. when we come, however, to the robes of the chancellor, which are made of stiffer material, we find that the ancient character of the hanging sleeves is much more marked (see figure ), and there is a train so long that small pages are told off to support it. in the old days, the material of which the gowns were made, and their trimmings indicated the rank of the wearers; and, as mr. druitt[ ] points out, the bachelor, for instance, was unable to use fur of so costly a kind as that worn by his academical superiors. stuff or silk gowns still have their significance, and in the hoods which are the survival of a part of dress which was once useful and worn by graduates and undergraduates alike, we find great diversity in the case of the various degrees of different universities. [illustration: fig. .--the hanging sleeve of a chancellor of oxford university.] as a head covering, the cap took the place of a hood, and the latter fell down behind like that often seen on a modern ulster. we have already noticed (p. ) how this peak of the hood was exaggerated, and in old times the liripipe was longer in the case of undergraduates. the modern hood of the universities has grown in size, but it has lost its long streamer. examples are, of course, most commonly seen in churches, as it is a custom of the clergy to wear their academical hoods over their white surplices. the colour of the hood and of its lining indicates, to the initiated, the university to which the wearer belongs, and the degree which he has taken. in early times a tippet or cape made of fur or cloth edged or lined with fur, according to the degree, was also worn. to this we have alluded when speaking of the surplice (see page ). it seems also to have originally been a kind of hood which developed first into the almuce, one of the processional vestments of the priesthood. this was covered by the ecclesiastical cope, but was worn outside the academical gown. doctors of divinity were allowed to wear scarlet tippets, and the colour survives now in their academical hood, and the ordinary black almuce with its fur lining has not been greatly changed in becoming the hood of the bachelor of arts. sometimes the tippet and sometimes the hood was worn (if we may judge from monumental brasses), but also they were both put on at the same time. the figure of a doctor embroidered on a fifteenth-century cope belonging to the pro-cathedral of the apostles at clifton, depicts him wearing a tippet edged with white, a red hood, and a red cap. his gown, which is worked in gold thread, is shown with a blue lining. perhaps no form of head-dress is more strange than the college cap or mortar-board, or, in technical language, _pileus quadratus_, or cater cap. this skull-cap, with its curious square top, is not the only kind of academical head-dress. there is the round cap which is especially that of the doctor, while the mortar-board or trencher already mentioned is used by masters and bachelors, as well as by undergraduates and scholars. the former head-dress seems to have been very little altered, and was developed somewhere about the fourteenth century or earlier from the ecclesiastical skull-cap, which was something like an old-fashioned man's nightcap, with a tuft. the square cap is an undoubted descendant of the ecclesiastical cap of dignity, and in england this also came from the skull-cap already mentioned. towards the end of the fifteenth century, while still used by ecclesiastics, it began to assume a square or cusped shape. prof. e. c. clark[ ] agrees with the opinion expressed to him by the late dr. littledale, that folds were introduced into the soft material in order to make the cap easier to hold, for by them it was stiffened. the folds became four wings, and so converted the round top into a square. from this it was but a short step to the ecclesiastical biretta of the present day. any further exaggeration of its top would cause the cap to fall down on the face, and would naturally suggest the insertion of something to stiffen it and hold it out, and in the end the square top of the cap was made of cardboard covered with cloth, and a skull-cap was fixed to it underneath. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--a college cap or trencher.] [illustration: fig. .--cranmer's hat, illustrating a stage in the evolution of a mortar-board (after fairholt).] [illustration: fig. .--the hat of a bishop of the stuart period showing a stage at which the stiffening now seen in the mortar-board was becoming necessary (after fairholt).] there is a likeness between the round hat of the doctor and the tudor flat cap, and fairholt would derive the mortar-board from the same head-dress; and as illustrating the story of its evolution, he compares the cap shown in the portrait of cranmer (see figure ) in the british museum with that of a bishop of the time of charles i (see figure ); and here again the need for stiffening is obvious, if the enlargement of the crown of the cap be carried any further. xxiii legal dress vestiges of the coif--hoods and gowns--signs of mourning it would be strange if the majesty of the law did not depend to some extent upon dress, and there is no doubt but that an impressiveness which would otherwise be absent from our courts is given by wigs and gowns. the wigs themselves are an interesting survival, and presumably are not more uncomfortable to the few who now wear them than they were to many in times gone by. we will describe here a few interesting vestiges among those which are to be met with in legal costume. any one who has an opportunity of looking on to the top of a judge's wig will notice a small circular depression about three inches across. (see figure .) this has a very interesting history, and in order to trace it we shall have to look at the long wigs of the serjeants-at-law, from whose ranks in the past most of the judges used to come. on the serjeant's wig we shall find that there is a similar depression, and that it is filled with a circular white patch, having a black centre, and reminding one of two large pieces of court plaster, one stuck over the other. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--the wig of a modern judge.] the white piece represents the coif, or close-fitting cap of white lawn or silk which resembles that of a nun, and with which the serjeants-at-law on their creation were decked. from this cap, the body to which the serjeants-at-law belonged was called the order of the coif. it seems that the origin of this head-dress cannot definitely be settled. mr. druitt[ ] and mr. paley baildon are content to consider it as part of the insignia of the serjeants-at-law, in the same way that the round cap indicates the possessor of a doctor's degree, and they are not inclined to give credence to the suggestion that the coif was to hide the tonsure or to prevent its absence from being noticed. the black patch represents a black skull-cap that was worn over the coif. [illustration: fig. .--the vestige of the coif from the wig of a serjeant-at-law.] after having been in existence for many hundreds of years, the order of serjeants-at-law was abolished by mr. gladstone. lord lindley, we believe, is the last member who survives. a black skull-cap is also worn by a judge, but it is not to be confounded with the cap of dignity which is used by him when pronouncing sentence, and which was ordered to be worn in church when on circuit. ordinarily, the judge does not wear his scarlet gown, but a black one, the girdle of which has grown to a very great width. the drab colour of the trimmings, which does not harmonize well with the rest of the gown, has recently begun to give way to primrose, and the change is due to the initiative of the late lord coleridge. it is said that black gowns which are worn by the king's counsel and other barristers superseded the coloured ones on the death of queen mary ii, and in reality were intended as mourning which has never been discarded. legal gowns have come down with very little change from the middle ages, and are doubtless derived from ecclesiastical through academical costume. the original robes of the serjeants-at-law were somewhat striking in colour, for taking a line down the centre of the black, one half was of a mustard colour and the other red, while the latter was further ornamented with green stripes. the robe of the barons of the exchequer was of a beautiful heliotrope tint. the material of the gown of the king's counsel is indicated by the phrase "taking silk." one peculiarity of the garment is that it has a large collar resembling that of court-ushers and of vergers in churches. the ordinary dress of the king's counsel which he wears in court is interesting on account of the ornamental cuffs and the escalloped flaps of the pockets of the coat and waistcoat, which resemble those of court dress. [illustration: fig. .--a barrister's gown showing the vestigial hood and its streamer. the buttons and braid which once temporarily looped up the sleeves now fix it permanently.] on the barrister's gown there is a tiny hood on the left shoulder resembling that from which the chaperon was developed, and from the vestige runs a streamer which comes over the left shoulder and hangs down in front of the gown. (see figure .) there is also a series of buttons as well as pieces of braid on the sleeves which are survivals, and we have not the hanging sleeves of the king's counsel, which are comparable to those seen in many academic gowns. small falling bands are of course generally worn by members of the legal profession, and barristers and king's counsel when in mourning have a little pleat down the middle of each band. perhaps the most curious additions to legal costume used in order to indicate mourning are the little white lawn or muslin cuffs, like those of widows, which the king's counsel wear on their sleeves when the court is in mourning, or when they themselves have suffered bereavement. xxiv state and court attire coronation dress--parliamentary robes--mistakes in court dress--vestiges of the wig and of the chaperon--court cards the english sovereigns are heads of the church as well as of the state, and in connection with their coronation dress there are, as might be expected, many survivals from the past. the vestments used on the occasion in question agree almost entirely with those which we have described as being worn by a bishop at mass. we may except, however, the amice and the maniple, while the sceptre and crown take the place of the crosier and the mitre. the first vestment to be put on is of linen, and is an albe or rochet, and up to the time of james ii it was provided with sleeves--it is known as the _colobium sindonis_. over this is placed the tunicle or dalmatic. this is made of silk, and across it is worn the stole in the same way as deacons were ordered to do in the year . the custom is still followed in greece and rome, whereas priests generally put on the stole immediately after the albe. over the dalmatic comes the imperial mantle which seems to have been originally a chasuble, but is now slit up in front. this garment, which is of cloth of gold, is embroidered with eagles, that are interesting as probably representing the claim of the king of england to be emperor of britain and lord paramount over all the islands of the west. in charles ii's reign further ornaments occurred in the shape of roses and fleur-de-lys, and on queen victoria's mantle there were roses, half red and half white, as well as thistles, shamrocks, and fleur-de-lys, while the eagles were embroidered in silver. at the coronation of king edward vii the vestments which we have described were all used with the exception of the albe, and to the other devices on the imperial mantle the lotus flower was added as a symbol for india, as the king was the first sovereign to be crowned as emperor of india. the robe which the king wears at the opening of parliament has a cape of ermine made up in miniver style, and it is lined throughout with the same fur. we might here say that ordinary ermine is decorated with the tails of the stoat, which remain black when this animal puts on its winter dress, whereas in the case of miniver the fur is spotted all over with little black pieces made from the skin of some other animal. this has not always been the same, but at the present time persian lamb is used. the magnificence of the king's parliamentary robe and its train of crimson velvet may be gathered from the fact that in the making of the miniver, upwards of ten thousand pieces of black fur were used. in a portrait of the king, taken when wearing this robe, he is shown in the uniform of a field marshal, and holds in his hand the field marshal's baton. the latter originally was a box in which the general carried the orders of his sovereign, and it is rather curious that what was once the emblem of the servant should come to be used by a crowned head himself. the rank of noblemen is indicated on their parliamentary robes by the number of bands of ermine with which they are decorated. a baron has two, a viscount two and a half, an earl three, a marquis three and a half, and a duke four, whereas on their coronation robes the same effect is gained by a similar number of rows of black spots on the miniver, which forms a kind of cape. as in connection with life at court there are a number of special uniforms and official dresses which are carefully prescribed, it is likely that we should find among the dress of those surrounding the sovereign, many and excellent examples of survivals. there is, indeed, one uniform which has come down to us practically unaltered from the year . this is the dress worn by the yeomen of the guard, who may be looked upon as the king's retainers. (see figure .) it is an obvious example of the point that we have dwelt upon in connection with badges and liveries, for borne on the back and chest are the royal crown and initials. of course, the latter have altered from time to time, and when the king came to the throne the tudor crown, which had been superseded by that of st. edward, was replaced. [illustration: fig. .--a yeoman of the guard of the present reign.] the development of the badges on the coat is interesting. in henry vii's reign there was the crown and the red and white rose. in the time of anne the thistle was added, and the rose was placed upon a stalk. the tudor crown was also replaced, for during the stuart period, st. edward's crown had appeared, and the royal motto was added. in the georgian period st. edward's crown again was made use of, while george iii added the shamrock. now, in king edward vii's time, we have the tudor crown, the rose, thistle, and shamrock, the motto "dieu et mon droit," and the initials "e.r." what the original uniform was, is not quite certain, but practically the same kind of coat was worn in henry viii's reign that appears now. the ruff would appear to be elizabethan, though the hat is earlier. the officers used to wear a similar but more gorgeous uniform, but when william iv commanded that only officers of the army should be given commissions in the guard, the present dress, which is that of a field officer of the peninsular period, was introduced. when king edward vii came to the throne he left the decision as to whether they should wear the old tudor dress, to the officers themselves, and they decided in favour of the more modern military one. we might mention the halberds that are carried by the yeomen, and also allude to some of the duties which they have carried out, from the making of the king's bed in early times to searching the houses of parliament before the session opens, which is a memory of guy fawkes, and of attending, as they have done for centuries, at the giving of alms by the sovereign in westminster abbey on maundy thursday. very many uniforms seen at court show the turned-back edges and the lining of the tails, described when we were dealing with the evolution of the coat (see p. )--for instance, in the case of the gentlemen-at-arms, and of several officials. we may mention also the scottish archers who wear a green coat with a turned-back part--which represents the lining--of red velvet. the style of court dress which may be worn to-day by civilians has become somewhat simpler, though ruffles and frills are still to be found in connection, and may be worn with, what is known as old-style dress that is always adopted by the legal profession. the knee-breeches come from the time of william iii, and the coat in its original form dates back to the time of napoleon. the sides of the coat have, however, been cut away, and this was done during the last reign, when the alteration was made for the convenience of those who were not accustomed to wear a sword. the more recent simplification of court dress has, however, provided pitfalls for the unwary, and all sorts of curious mistakes in small details are made. to show how easy it is to put a button too many here, or too few there, we may describe the differences between the old and new styles. on the old there are seven buttons up the front of the coat and three on the cuffs. in the new, there are but six in the first case and none in the second. again, in the simplified coat there are no buttons below the flaps (which represent pockets), and but four buttons behind on the tails. in the old style there are three buttons below the flaps--while there are similar ornaments on the waistcoat, which is skirted--and there are six buttons on the tails. then in addition there is the wig-bag, to which we shall refer in a moment, at the back of the coat collar, as well as the frills and ruffles. although on the lace of these as much may be spent as on the rest of the costume, the cost of the simpler dress is really not much less than that of the other. a survival is, of course, to be seen in the sword and in the simplified costume, it is worn in a frog instead of on a sling. we have made it evident how much a man now depends upon his tailor for correctness in the detail of his court dress, and it is amusing to find that wig-bags are put on to modern-style coats, and that the number of buttons is often quite wrong; but if these are the faults of the tailor, it is the man himself who is responsible who goes to court with his sword hanging at his right side. we have not heard of military men making such a mistake, but officers have been known to appear with their cross-belts over the wrong shoulder. it is a good thing for some that court etiquette is not so strict as it has been in the past. a curious survival is found in connection with old-style dress and some of the uniforms which are worn by officials, and we have had to mention similar vestiges when speaking of the lord mayor's coachman and of the welsh fusiliers. this is what is known as a wig-bag (see figures and ), though in the lord chamberlain's descriptions it is now referred to by the same name as the ornament of somewhat similar origin of the welsh fusiliers, namely, the "flash." it consists of a small bag of silk, at the bottom corners of which little satin ribbon loops are fixed, while the whole is covered by an elaborate rosette of satin ribbon, and is suspended from the back of the coat collar. the bag represents the old bag in which the bob of the wig was placed, and the loops no doubt are those through which a ribbon was passed, which went round the neck of those who wore wigs, and was secured by a jewel on the breast. this was to provide against the wig being lost, should it fall from the head of its wearer, for these curious replacements of natural hair were of considerable value, costing twenty, thirty, sixty or even more guineas. the rosette of ribbon is the modern representative of the bow that tied the wig. (see figure .) we have already traced the connection which mr. calthrop has shown between the cockade and the chaperon, and we might mention again that this ancient form of head-dress survives in connection with the hood of the mantle of the knights of the garter and of other orders, for instance, those of st. patrick and of the thistle. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--the wig-bag or "flash" from a court suit, showing the rosette held away and displaying the black silk bag. at the lower corners of the latter loops are seen, which are probably the remains of those through which a ribbon was passed, which went round the neck and fastened on the breast by a brooch.] in the case of the knight of the garter, the hood consists of a flat piece of crimson velvet about three-quarters of a yard across, slightly oval in shape, and at a spot a little on one side of the centre is to be found the remains of the turban of the chaperon. it is a thick ring covered outside with crimson velvet, and inside with white silk. to one side of this is fastened a long band of crimson velvet one and three-quarter times as long as the hood is wide. this represents, of course, the liripipe of the chaperon. (see page and figures - .) the edges of the velvet in all cases are ornamented with a white silk piping. the hood is fixed on the right shoulder, and the band representing the liripipe is brought across the breast of the wearer. in addition there are some wide loops and ends of ribbon called the streamer, and narrow ribbons with which to fasten the structure to the mantle. [illustration: fig. .--the hood from the mantle of a knight of the garter, showing the survival of the chaperon and its liripipe.] the hoods of the orders of the thistle and of st. patrick are similar in construction, and in the case of the former the velvet of which they are made is blue in colour. on the mantles of other orders only the streamer remains. on the left shoulder of the knights of the bath and of st. michael and st. george there is a small vestige of aiguillettes. this is of silk cord in the former case, and of gold cord in the second. the under-dress, which is not commonly worn now, is furnished with trunk hose and silk tights, and from its appearance is known as the silver dress. much the same style was carried out in all the orders that we have up to the present had occasion to mention. in the more modern orders there is, of course, no such ancient under-dress. if we have kings and queens at court, we also have kings and queens and knaves among our playing-cards, and the costumes which survive on the curious pictures which represent them in double, but without their lower limbs, are worthy of some little attention. as a matter of fact, they are tudor dresses, slightly modified perhaps of recent years, but nevertheless, a common and widespread relic of the fashions which were in vogue when henry viii was going through his matrimonial troubles, and shaking this country clear from its allegiance to the pope. there are two series of ceremonial dresses not immediately connected with the state which it may be worth while to investigate. they are, in the first place, the liveries of the city companies, and in the second the insignia of masons. in the first case, on some of the gowns we find again the chaperon appearing as a hood on the shoulder, and many of the caps that are worn have survived for some centuries. a few of the companies still possess their ancient embroidered hearse cloths, which recall the early semi-religious and provident purposes of the guilds out of which the great city companies have developed. there seems no doubt, too, but that the apron of the masons is actually derived from that worn by the craftsmen when at work, and in some countries it is still of the same circular form as those which were used by the english masons of the eighteenth century. other parts of the clothing of masons are no doubt derived from the old guild liveries, and in the fact that some high officials wear gauntlets we have a reminder of the knights' armour, and possibly a survival from the time when high officials were knights. xxv survivals in military uniforms armour--prickers for flint-locks--forage cords--reminiscences of gallantry--regimental badges--courtship colours the cuirass of the household troops which they wear on important occasions, as well as the metal helmets of various regiments, are survivals from the time when armour was of use, and if we examine the shoulders of certain soldiers, we shall find that there are vestiges of chain mail, though now this only takes the place of epaulettes. (see figure .) to see chain mail in its perfection we must go back to the time of edward i, and if we look, for instance, at the brass of sir john d'aubernoun (who died in the year ) or of sir richard de trumpington, a.d. (see figure ), which are the earliest remaining in this country, we shall find that the chain mail now represented by a little patch on the shoulder then covered the head and neck, arms and hands, body, feet and legs. [illustration: fig. .--relic of chain mail on the shoulder of an imperial yeoman.] as time went on, plate armour was mixed with the mail, until at last, in the time of henry iv, we get the complete plate period in which there was a breastplate and a corresponding back plate, which had already appeared in the period of transition of chain mail to plate armour. from thence onward the development of armour progressed until it gradually disappeared. in stuart times, jack boots and spur leathers took the place of the armour on the legs, and a buff coat that on the body, with the exception of a gorget. this came to be in the early part of the nineteenth century, merely a small badge of the officer on duty, and in a still more diminished form is to be seen in some foreign armies. [illustration: fig. .--chain mail illustrated by the brass of sir richard de trumpington, a.d. .] in the earlier part of the book it was made evident that military uniforms afford a fine field for research, though apart from the remains of armour, however, they are comparatively modern. it was not, indeed, until the reign of charles ii that we meet with uniforms regularly adopted by the army; and the red coat which has given its name to the soldier, though many regiments are dressed in other colours, was previous to that time merely a best coat. we see it now on fox-hunters and golfers, though a long coat of this colour is still worn by the king's footmen and coachmen. a writer in the _spectator_, no. , says, when speaking of cornwall: "here we fancied ourselves in charles ii's reign, people having made little variation in their dress since that time. the smartest of the country squires appear still in the monmouth cock; when they go a-wooing (whether they have any post in the militia or not) they put on a red coat." there had previous to the restoration been some attempt to introduce uniform dress for soldiers quite apart from the sovereign's special guards, who, after the fashion of retainers, wore his livery. for instance, the duke of norfolk, in the reign of henry viii, issued instructions that every soldier should wear a blue coat guarded with red, the right hose to be red, the left blue, and a red stripe three fingers broad down the outside of each leg. the archers are described as wearing white gaberdines, at one time in this reign, while in those belonging to ireland had a cassock of blue cloth with two small white guards. red coats as well as others of blue or white were worn by the english troops in turenne's army in , and examples of the last two colours are by no means extinct in the army to-day. red, blue, grey, and green, it may be added, were all worn during the civil war on both sides. it must not be forgotten, however, that gay uniforms are now only used at home in times of peace, for we have learnt a lesson from the lower animals, many of which are protectively coloured, and the service uniform to-day is one calculated to render its wearer as inconspicuous as possible. before the time of firearms which could be used with precision, and when hand-to-hand combats played a great part in war, it was necessary for two adversaries to be able to see one another, but now each tries to hide himself. [illustration: fig. .--a reversion in military equipment. one of cromwell's ironsides ( ), from a print. a cavalryman sketched at aldershot in . copied, by permission, from the _daily mail_.] some years ago a sketch, which was made from a cavalry man at aldershot, was given in the _daily mail_; side by side was shown another taken from a print representing one of cromwell's ironsides, and the likeness between the two is almost exact. (see figure .) ornamental epaulettes may also be looked upon as the last remnant of armour, though the modern kind probably came from a shoulder-knot of charles ii's time, as they were originally intended to protect the shoulders from sword-thrusts. at the present day, though they are worn in the english navy and are common on the continent, they have practically disappeared from the army. the officers of the yeomen of the guard, whose uniform is that which was worn in the peninsular war, still wear epaulettes, as do the gentlemen-at-arms and the lords-lieutenant of counties. as we have said, there is a fine field for the study of survivals in uniforms proper, and from time to time many of these have attracted the notice of popular writers.[ & ] additional interest is given to this subject by the fact that besides the variations which have gradually evolved, there are special features which have suddenly appeared often in connection with some important battle, which we might liken to the curious sports and freaks which sometimes occur in the natural history world. when, in , the old regimental facings were abolished, many distinctions vanished, still there are more curious details left than we shall be able to describe. we have already seen how the busby was derived from the hungarian cap, and quite a number of other features have been introduced from foreign countries. the square cap of the lancer is the national head-dress of the poles, who call it a shapka, and the uniform itself came from poland. the sling jacket or dolman of the hussars (see figure ), which is now extinct in our army, was also an introduction, but still on the pouch-belt of light cavalry officers are the prickers fastened with silver chains, which were used with old flint-lock muzzle-loaders. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--the prickers on the shoulder-belt of a hussar, which survive from the time of flint-lock muskets.] some of these interesting but useless instruments are furnished with plain round knobs, but others made as if they were arrows with feathered shafts. mr. caton woodville gives the following explanation of the aiguillettes worn by aides-de-camp. he says that "they date from the days when the war-horses, or chargers, were of solid build and slow of movement, and when only the adjutants were mounted on fleet steeds. then the head-dress was a heavy three-cornered hat perched on a wig that was itself often not too securely fastened to its wearer's head. he needed, therefore, a cord with metal tags passing round the brim and under the loops which upheld its three sides. it was fastened to the officer's shoulder, as the weight of the felt hat, with its bars of steel as a protection against sword cuts, was considerable, and it was enough to choke a man if it should happen to dangle from his throat, so the aiguillettes have become the distinguished mark of the assistant to the general commanding in the field or garrison." it should, however, be mentioned also that these ornaments are worn in the household cavalry by non-commissioned officers, and are a relic there of the days when these soldiers were gentlemen of the royal life guards, who had the right to a commission in a line regiment after a certain number of years' service. other soldiers carry them, as do also the footmen of the nobility. horse soldiers have also an ornamental cord to their head-dresses, and it seems likely that the aiguillettes had another origin, and that prickers or some other instruments were at one time attached to them. in the lancers there is a very long cap-line, which has been mixed up, we are told by mr. p. w. reynolds, with a very interesting survival. this is the remains of a cord used for binding up grass and other forage into bundles, worn for convenience round the body, and over one shoulder by cavalry men, when it was not in use. it is known to the french as a "fourragère." in the lancers the cap-line passes round the cap and is brought under the right shoulder-strap. so far it is the original cap-line; then it passes twice round the body, under the left arm, and under the right shoulder-strap, and ends, in a festoon and a couple of acorns, which remind one of aiguillettes, on the left breast. the part that goes round the body is the old forage cord. the sergeants' sashes, it is said, were originally intended to make slings so that the wounded could be carried out of action with the help of pikes, and the drum-major's baton is the survival of a cane which the drill-sergeant sometimes used on the backs of the recruits. the "flash" of the welsh fusiliers, as we have seen, is a survival from the times when wigs were worn. here and there we find old head-dresses once nearly universal, such as the shako which is now confined to the highland light infantry and the scottish rifles. other regiments, such as those of the rifle brigade, which have been at times used as cavalry, retain certain features of the horse soldier's uniform. for instance, the rifle brigade has a head-dress which resembles the hussars' busby, and instead of a sash the officers wear a cross-belt. the officers of the somersetshire light infantry, which on one occasion was turned into cavalry at a moment's notice, wear a mess jacket of the cavalry pattern; they have also a black worm in their lace, like the east yorkshire and north lancashire regiments, which is usually explained as being mourning for sir john moore in the first case, and for general wolfe in the two others. before turning to peculiarities which were granted for special services, we may mention the black tunics and black plumes of the farriers belonging to the life guards, who carry a great axe with which to kill horses that are wounded in battle, and the state trumpeters also of the household cavalry, who wear a highly ornamental uniform which has persisted for nearly two centuries. there still remain relics of the time when commanding officers had a great deal to say in connection with the uniforms of their regiments. when the cameron highlanders were first raised in , colonel cameron did not adopt the cameron tartan, because he did not think it would go well with a scarlet tunic, and he introduced one which had been designed by his mother, called the "cameron erracht," which has been worn ever since. the white horse of hanover appears as a badge on several regiments, and it is recorded that george i, objecting to the private crests of the commanding officers, replaced them in many cases with the hanoverian device. even now, in spite of the minute regulations of the war office, which are continually being altered, the uniforms are not always made absolutely as they are prescribed. little details may be added, and colonels still seem to exercise some influence in the matter. the red puggaree of the duke of cornwall's light infantry is not obtained from the regimental tailor who supplies the uniform. the white jackets of the guards and highland corps which are worn in undress are still called "waistcoats," and, according to mr. walter wood, are a relic of the white waistcoat which was worn under the tunic by the british soldiers down to the time of william iv. it must, however, be remembered that a waistcoat was originally an outer garment, as indicated on page . an exceedingly curious privilege is that which has been accorded to the non-commissioned officers and men of the royal marines, who for many years have been allowed when in mourning, to cover one button of their tunics with crape. the eighth hussars wear their sword-belts over their shoulders, and the tradition is that at the battle of saragossa they behaved so gallantly that they totally destroyed a corps of spanish cavalry and took possession of their adversaries' belts. perhaps the most curious mark of distinction is the extra drummer of the third hussars, who enjoys special pay and is permitted to wear a sergeant's uniform. this privilege was granted by george iii when it was brought to his notice that the regiment possessed some silver kettledrums which they had captured. the request for this honour was made in by general fitzroy, and his wife presented a silver collar for the use of the additional drummer which is still worn to-day. it is handsomely engraved with military devices, and fits closely round the throat. in full dress the eleventh hussars wear an ivory-hilted sword made on the model of one picked up at bhurtpore. the fifteenth hussars wear the austrian imperial lace on account of their gallantry at villiers-en-couche, which prevented the emperor of austria from falling a prisoner to the french. the scots greys were given grenadier caps, which are not worn by other cavalry regiments, for their bravery at ramillies. the northumberland fusiliers have red and white hackle feathers--that is to say, that the upper part of their plume is red, and the lower part white. it is recorded that at wilhelmstahl, and also when in st. lucia, this regiment was victorious after great struggles, and took from the caps of the french grenadiers who were slain, enough white feathers to fit up the whole regiment with plumes, the use of which afterwards received official sanction. when, however, an order was made in that white plumes should be generally worn, the fusiliers complained that they would lose the distinction which they enjoyed, and by a compromise they were allowed to have a plume which was half red and half white. the northumberland fusiliers share with one or two other regiments, that distinguished themselves at the battle of minden, the privilege of wearing roses in their caps on st. george's day. we might spend a considerable time in dealing with the badges of various regiments, for often the history of the latter is bound up with them. they figure on the collar and other parts of the uniform, and occasionally, as badges might be expected to do, they appear on the buttons. we have touched upon this subject in connection with george i. the scots greys have as a badge an eagle with outstretched wings. it commemorates the capture of a french eagle at waterloo by sergeant ewart, who was given a commission for his bravery. the gloucestershire regiment has a badge in front and another on the back of the helmets, because on one occasion, in egypt, when it was attacked in the rear as well as in front by large bodies of french cavalry, and there was no time to form a square, the commanding officer gave the order, "rear rank, right about face, fire!" the result was that the enemy was beaten off. in connection with this achievement the second badge was given. an interesting tale is told with regard to the formation of the guards by charles ii after the restoration. there were three regiments present, and they were commanded to take up arms as the first, second, and third guards, but while the first and third obeyed the order, general monk's regiment stood still. the king, who was surprised at the apparent insubordination, asked monk for the reason. whereupon he said that his regiment declined to be considered second to any other. as a result, charles is said to have answered, "very well, they shall be my coldstream regiment of foot guards, and second to none." from this comes their motto, "nulli secundus." it may be mentioned, also, that this regiment has a distinction which is absolutely unique in the army, as it bears on the king's colour a small union jack, which commemorates the fact that monk was an admiral of the fleet as well as a general. it is only about a hundred years since the pretensions of the english sovereigns to the throne of france ceased to be evident, for it was not until the end of george iii's reign that the french fleur-de-lys were removed from the royal arms and disappeared from our coins. there is still, however, a survival of the lilies of france on the braid of the drummers in the guards. white lace with red crowns is what is almost universally worn by drummers in the army, but the crown is replaced in the case mentioned by the fleur-de-lys. whilst speaking of the guards, one may recall that not very long ago a uniform was used by the solicitor with which these soldiers were, and in the case of the coldstream guards are still, provided. the solicitor, like the medical officer, wore the cocked hat that is now dying out in the army, though generals and aides-de-camp still adopt this most curious outcome of the cavalier's beaver. here and there, as in the case of the surgeon and veterinary surgeon of the life guards, and the medical officers of some volunteer regiments, we still see the cocked hat. it flourishes also in court dress, it adorns the lords-lieutenant and their deputies, besides maintaining its position among the officers of the navy. fur, the material of which the first clothes of our ancestors were made, is still seen to a considerable extent in the army, and is chiefly used for the construction of busbies. so important was the trade in furs for military purposes at one time, that bear-skins were classified as follows: "officers," or first grade; "grenadiers," or second grade; and "unfit for the army," or third grade. like all features of dress which are exaggerated, the big busbies of the guards have on more than one occasion afforded material for the caricaturist. leech depicted the soldiers of the brigade of guards warming their hands and feet in their busbies, which they used as muffs; and an amusing series of sketches for the amusement of the young people was published not long ago, in which the soldier disappeared almost entirely into his busby and became a sort of humpty-dumpty. tall hats of the type of our modern silk hats were not unknown in the army. perhaps it may come as a shock to some that lord howard of effingham is shown in a portrait as wearing a top hat, in shape very similar to the modern form, but ornamented with a plume of ostrich feathers. there is, we believe, however, still one top hat which is served out by the war office at the present day, and this is worn by the chapel keeper at wellington barracks. of buttons we have already spoken times out of number, and it may be interesting to mention here that the various regiments of the brigade of guards may be told by the arrangement of buttons on the tunic. they are arranged at even distances apart in the grenadiers, in twos on the coldstreams, and in threes on the scots guards, and in fours on the irish guards, which were created of recent years. we find plenty of survivals in the army of buttons which are seen in similar places to those on civilians' clothes. mr. p. w. reynolds has pointed out another, which is found in connection with a cord loop on the collars of the officers of the oxfordshire light infantry. this is a survival of a fashion once universal in the british infantry, though the loop often consisted of half-inch lace instead of cord. the button was originally on a turned-down collar, and previous to that was on the coat, coming through a hole in the collar with a view to holding the latter properly in place. if officers and sergeants were seen together it would probably be noticed that the former wear their sashes over the left shoulder, whilst the latter wear theirs over the right. to this a single exception can, however, be found. in the twenty-ninth foot the sergeants and officers both wear their sashes over the left shoulder, and this custom has been traced back to the battle of culloden, where so many officers were slain that the sergeants had to take their places. the drummers of the leicestershire regiment on state occasions wear tiger-skin aprons instead of the usual ones of pipeclayed leather. this is connected, as is also their badge, with their services in india. a point that is perhaps not generally known is that officers going on voyages in hot climates are allowed to substitute the kamarband for the mess waistcoat, various colours being adopted by various regiments. we have seen the origin of the red coat so far as it affects the modern army. under these circumstances it is hardly necessary to say that it is not intended to prevent the soldier from seeing his blood when he is wounded, as has sometimes been suggested. it might be taken as acting as a warning colour like that of the wasp or hornet, but we have also noticed the way in which conspicuous dress is replaced by protectively coloured uniforms when the soldiers are upon active service. we cannot help mentioning, however, one case in which the ornamental garb of peace proves useful to its wearer. we find in the animal kingdom that, whatever may happen in modern times in our own case, the males are as a rule the more brightly coloured, and we have come to call the brilliant hues with which they are endowed "courtship colours." the charm which our gallant soldiers seem to have for the fair sex surely entitles us to reckon the gay uniforms of our army as coming into the category of "courtship colours." xxvi naval uniforms supposed survivals--petticoats and wide breeches if we had headed this chapter "survivals in naval dress," we should have been in the historic predicament of the writer who took as his topic the snakes of iceland, and afterwards had to own that there were none. it would be better, however, if we were to say that there are no survivals of a strictly naval kind, as then we should be nearer the truth. there are, of course, in the uniform of both officers and men, plenty of survivals from civilian costume, such as we have spent much time in describing. though the crews of the galleys, which are the boats reserved for the captain's use, had, in the case of the smart ships, long been dressed in a uniform manner, the actual uniforms of the navy only date from a little before the year . the colours, blue and white, so tradition says, were due to an inspiration which george ii received, while the subject was under discussion, on seeing the duchess of bedford riding in a new habit which was of blue faced with white. there are two points in the dress of the ordinary sailor which are commonly supposed to be interesting survivals, and indeed they appear on the surface to have all the makings of such. it has been thought that the black silk handkerchief which a sailor wears round his neck was first put on as mourning for the death of nelson. the other matter is the blue jean collar which covers the similar-shaped one which is made of the same material as the sailor's jumper. this would no doubt have protected its fellow from the grease of the pigtail which sailors wore once; but commander robinson, who has gone into the question, says that pigtails were discarded before the blue jean collar came into existence, and at the same time tells us that black silk handkerchiefs were adopted previous to the time of nelson. it is not perhaps very widely known that sailors at one time wore a kind of kilt or petticoat, and this no longer ago than the year . some thirty or forty years earlier there were in vogue loose slops like the petticoat breeches of the reign of charles ii, and the collar of the coat, which was open at the neck, turned back on to the shoulders. the trousers, however, that are now adopted are tight round the body and thighs, but remain very loose round the legs, and are therefore somewhat curious. the method of buttoning is one which they share with the gentlemen of george ii's time, the old-fashioned labourer, and, we believe, the bishop. xxvii the costume of puppets punch and judy--fashion dolls--dolls in swaddling clothes--the egyptian "shabbies" by way of a change let us turn from people to their images--in fact, to puppets and dolls--for these semblances and caricatures of human forms are generally clothed, and at times may present to us very curious survivals. let us begin with punch and judy, and in this connection we must not forget the dog toby, for the ruff which he wears round his neck is a reminiscence of queen elizabeth's reign. punch himself, however, is very much older than his clothes, though to find the explanation of the hump in front we must examine the clothes of the time of henry iii of france, when the men's busked doublets came down low to a strap-shaped point, and had a great padded punch-like protuberance.[ ] for other peculiarities that we see we may have to go to the times of henry iv of france, but the character is very many centuries older; and the careful investigations made by a friend of the present writer, mr. george heppel,[ ] into the history of punch have shown why his present costume was adopted and what was his prototype. as might be expected, the original punch was a man--not pontius pilate, as has sometimes been suggested owing to the connection of punch with miracle plays, but a character in the old italian farces, which go back to the early days of rome. the town most celebrated for such entertainments was atella, situated not very far from naples. the farcical plays were full of buffoonery, and punch or pulicinella was one of the stock characters, represented by a live actor, as were also the originals of the harlequin, pantaloon, and scaramouch, among others. it appears that the plays were not written as we understand a play to be written, but as a rule the plot of them was known, and a great deal of the dialogue was left to the actors themselves. from this it will be seen that the art of gagging can hardly be considered to be modern. the italian, though by no means great as a dramatic author, was, as he is now, exceedingly good as an actor. it is said[ ] that for genuine fun no dramatist can beat the neapolitan, no actor can surpass him. he writes or acts without the least effort; it is born in him, and he cannot help it. the very beggar-boy who hunts one along the street is a consummate actor; his gestures are prolific, easy, and natural; he is a facial artist without knowing it, and he has a power of elocution and expression which are only acquired by experienced performers after many years of study. it may perhaps come as a surprise to many, seeing how long punch has persisted, to learn that in italy he was not one of the important characters in the original plays, but his choice as the hero of the puppet-show depended rather on the fact that he had not so much to do as some of the others--the harlequin, for instance. therefore his character could be better portrayed under the restricted conditions that prevailed in such an entertainment as the punch and judy show. it will be obvious also that only two characters can be acting at one time, as the showman has only two hands. mr. heppel could only trace one instance of punch figures being worked by wires like other marionettes. this is a figure in a little book no larger than a playing-card, entitled "scènes de polichinelle," in the art library at the south kensington museum. the showman in the case of the french punch on occasion makes a virtue of necessity, and when the hero of the puppet-show is about to be tried for murder, the performance is interrupted in order that the following apology may be made:--"the scene which we are about to have the honour to put before you requires a tolerably large number of characters. it is, indeed, impossible to suppose that so important a prisoner as guignol should be tried without due ceremony and by a single judge, but as the director of this theatre, like the generality of mankind, has but two hands, the actors in this scene will most of them remain quite still. this need not in the least interfere with the truth of the representation, for this stillness gives the administration of justice an additional solemnity. we may suppose that the judges are asleep, which will enable them to decide free from passion, and that the officials of the court are paralysed by the majesty of the court and the magnitude of the issues to be determined." [illustration: fig. .--the oscan pulicinella of , without a long nose. the dress is very similar to that figured in (after riccoboni).] the punch and judy show went on in italy side by side with the farces that were represented by living actors, but the idea of puppet-shows is very much more ancient than this. the clothes of punch were plain, and illustrations made in are similar to others made a hundred years later (see figures and ). [illustration: fig. .--the calabrian giangurgolo of , with the long nose. the dress is very similar to that figured in (after riccoboni).] originally, also, punch does not seem to have had a long nose. the exaggerated nose is, however, found on the representative of punch which flourished in calabria, and which went by the name of "giangurgolo" (see figure ). the french punch is called guignol, of which the derivation cannot be directly traced, but mr. heppel has made an interesting suggestion that in the name of this character is to be found that of giangurgolo in a contracted form. as may have been surmised, we got our punch and judy by way of france, but as a human actor punch himself came direct to england. [illustration: fig. .--an ancient bronze statuette with the face and features of punch (after ficorroni).] an ancient statuette which is figured by ficorroni (see figure ) is supposed by antiquarians to represent punch, and if the individual whom it represents did not go by that name, he must certainly have been one of punch's ancestors, for the likeness to our modern hero is exceedingly great. references are made by a number of classical authors to puppet-shows, and these were also known in china as long ago as a thousand years before the christian era. [illustration: fig. .--a fourteenth-century puppet-show (from the ms. of the "roman d'alexandre").] the method also of exhibiting the puppets is not very modern, for a very interesting figure of a show embellishes the celebrated ms. of the "roman d'alexandre" (see figure ) which is preserved in the bodleian library at oxford, and was executed between the years and . the figures were evidently worked by the hands as in punch and judy, and that it was intended to amuse children is shown by three little girls who are represented as looking on. though sticks are not strictly a part of dress, unless we consider the canes of the dandies as being so, yet their usefulness in puppet-shows is so great that we are tempted to digress for a moment to give the comments of m. lemercier de neuville on the subject:-- "the stick! that is the great argument of guignol, as well as of polichinelle. the stick settles everything. it puts an end to disputes, it pays debts, it sends away troublesome people, it disciplines wives, it takes vengeance on men, it is the 'deus ex machina' of all this lilliputian world. what a marvellous dramatic resource it is. if a situation becomes difficult to manage, settle it with a blow of the stick. if a _dénouement_ seems to hang fire, hasten its progress by a thrashing. the stick is above all criticism; it checkmates it, it destroys it, for it is in the right, in spite of everybody, because it is the strongest. the stick has no respect of persons. with it guignol beats his creditors, his friends, his wife, the constable, the judge, the hangman, and the more he strikes the more he makes people laugh. there is no spoken joke that is as good as this. and yet the stick is not beautiful, nor is it new. one sees that it has done duty for a long time, for it is worn out and cracked." we have, in fact, a record of italian players coming to act their farces in this country in , but as punch in the capacity of a person is now obsolete with us, we shall only incidentally refer to him as a living actor, though perhaps we might recall the fact that molière introduced him into his play _le malade imaginaire_. we have spoken already of punch's hump in front, and it may be interesting in this connection to give the opinion of a frenchman on the subject of punch's bodily characteristics. m. magnin says that with a sufficient amount of exaggeration and caricature to set aside the suspicion of disloyalty, the punch figure recalls the appearance of some gascon officer imitating the walk and demeanour of henri iv in the guard chamber of st. germain or in the louvre. the hump in front, he says, was derived from the protuberance of the heavy cuirass. this is much the same explanation as that which we have already given, though the cuirass probably stuck out in front of its wearer even more than did the doublet. there is no doubt but that the french like gayer dresses than the italians, and we have seen that even in the clothes of harlequin, pantaloon, and scaramouch in italy were, like those of punch, plain and simple; but in order to be popular in france the pulicinella had to dress in a new style, and it is known that already in the puppet-show of which he is the hero had set up on the left bank of the seine, opposite the louvre. when punch got to england it was at a time when gay clothes were worn, and some relics of these he has retained to the present day. red and yellow play a considerable part in the dress of the punch figures used by mr. w. h. jesson, the members of whose family have for generations been performers of punch and judy, and who is one of the few that are still left. punch has a very high cap of antique appearance, with turned-up brim and a bow of ribbon on the top. the hump on his back is almost horn-like, and forms a complete circle. it seems unlikely that this appendage was developed from any part of costume unless it were perhaps the liripipe; but we may rather imagine that in the past pulicinella may have been represented as being a hunchback, and certainly figure , taken from the statuette mentioned previously, suggests an individual suffering from such a deformity. punch also wears a ruff (see figure ), though it is not a separate part of his costume, as in judy's case, where it is of lace and its character is well shown, as it consists of more than one thickness. judy's head-dress is the mob cap which was fashionable in the time of george iii. (see figure .) the beadle, with his three-cornered hat and his brightly trimmed coat and cape, has survived for a century or so after his clothes first became fashionable, and no doubt in the puppet-show he will persist for many years when every living representative of his kind has passed away. (see figure .) of two more characters we have a word to say,--in the first place, of the doctor, who is brought before us in clothes of almost clerical cut, which remind us of the fact that the members of the medical profession were once more easily recognized by their dress than they are now (see figure ); in the second, of toby, whose sole costume consists of a ruff, that once more takes us back to the time of good queen bess. [illustration: fig. .--punch, from the punch and judy show, showing the ruff and other details of elizabethan costume.] [illustration: fig. .--judy, from the punch and judy show, with ruff, mob cap, and apron.] though punch has donned new clothes and altered his habits to suit not only the countries in which he sojourned, but the times in which he has performed, yet despite these and other changes that have gone on since he set foot on these islands, there is one thing that has always been his special characteristic. this is his squeaky voice, which he retained even in molière's play, and it is from the peculiarity of his voice that he gained his name. pulicinella means a "hen-chicken," which might well be expected to have a squeaky voice. [illustration: fig. .--the beadle, from the punch and judy show.] [illustration: fig. .--the doctor, from the punch and judy show, with wig and white tie.] with regard to the changes in punch's behaviour we have a word to say. originally he was somewhat of a composite character, the constituent elements being derived from several of the personages of the larger theatre. at first, to the amorous and intriguing ways of pulicinella there was added the roguery of scaramouch, as well as the dash and braggadocio of the spanish captain who was a member of the comedy company, akin to the miles gloriosus of plautus and the bobadil of ben jonson. as time went on there was less love-making and trickery and more knocking about, but mr. heppel will not allow that the french writers are right in ascribing the whole of this to english influence. for the fact that the puppets are not alive gives an opportunity for dealing blows with a reality that could not be tolerated if the actors were living, and when we remember the way in which dog toby seizes punch by the nose, we cannot help feeling that the effect could hardly be so realistically produced on the actual stage. in france, punch is a bachelor, or if he is married he is not very much married, while in england punch always runs in double harness. another alteration has taken place. polly, who was one of the characters that have disappeared, has departed for the reasons put into the showman's mouth by mr. henry mayhew in . "miss polly was left out, because it wasn't exactly moral. opinions has changed. we ain't better, i fancy. such things goes on, but people don't like to let it be seen now; that's the difference. judy's dress, you see, is far different, bless you, than miss polly's. judy's, you see, is bed-furniture stuff, and polly's is all silk and satin. yes, that's the way of the world; the wife comes off second best." as in old times, there was much buffoonery introduced even into religious plays, and the characters which have been separated from the other performers to take part in the special harlequinade of the modern pantomime used, together with punch, to appear side by side with those who took the part of religious personages. to uneducated people there seemed nothing profane about this; but as time went on men and women came to look at matters in a different light. for reasons somewhat similar, the devil and the ghost are now left out, and in the performances that are given in drawing-rooms even the coffin, in some cases. the connection, however, of punch with religious plays probably accounts for the name by which his wife now goes. those who mistakenly supposed that the word punch was derived from pontius pilate looked upon judy as representing judas iscariot. we have already pointed out the origin of the former appellation, which ante-dates the christian era, while a difficulty is met with in the fact that the wife of punch for many years was known as joan. mr. heppel says that of the miracle plays some of the most popular were taken from the apocrypha, and a very favourite subject was the tale of judith and holofernes. if we cannot find an instance recorded of punch furnishing the amusement in this story, we can, at any rate, find an advertisement of a play in which harlequin and judith were together, and the comic business was sometimes entrusted to punch and sometimes to harlequin. hence punch and judy may not improbably have come from punch and judith, while toby naturally suggests the dog in the book of tobit. with regard to toby, it may be said that he is represented in france by a cat, and that until the nineteenth century he was only a stuffed figure. in china, where punch beats his wife to the music of the clarionette instead of pandæan pipes held in a muffler, toby is replaced by a wooden dragon with jaws that snap, and this figure is also now introduced in england. hector the horse has quite disappeared. we might mention here that in the english version a clown is brought in with very considerable effect. there is another connection of dolls with costume rather than of costume with dolls which we may mention at this point. in the fourteenth century, when there were no fashion plates, and written descriptions would hardly do their duty effectively, model costumes were put upon dolls and sent from country to country. it is, moreover, a curious and interesting fact that it was principally from paris that these fashions were sent out. examples of national costumes sometimes survive on the bodies of dolls. the figure of st. nicholas, in belgium, shows an old dress, and the costume dolls of holland, france, and switzerland are excellent records of native dress now seldom seen in everyday life. mr. edward lovett bought a little doll in lucerne which is in a cradle, and shows excellently well the swaddling clothes that were formerly in use. ancient greek and roman dolls, taken from children's graves, were similarly dressed, and a modern russian doll, which is also in possession of mr. lovett, is shown with the swathing band _in situ_. the only dolls that are to be found in malta represent ancient saints, and it is said that they are dressed as such. the long garments of noah and his sons in the toy noah's ark are worthy of mention and are an interesting survival. the wrappings that were placed round mummies in ancient egypt are shown on figures which were found in the tombs, and which are often seen as curiosities in this country. they were carved out of wood or modelled out of clay, while some of them were made out of the well-known glazed faïence. they were put into the tombs in order that they might do the work of the deceased in his after life, and their origin is exceedingly interesting. many barbarous nations have in the past sacrificed the servants of a chief at his funeral, and the egyptians, who were humane people, contented themselves with a make-believe, and replaced the actual persons with the figures that we call "ushabti," or, in modern parlance, "shabbies." xxviii the clown and painting the body the clown's dress--savage painting and survivals of it--tattooing--patches and false complexions--masks no costume is perhaps more characteristic or better known than that of the clown; and it is of special interest, for while the hat was fashionable at the beginning of the fifteenth century, the dress, generally speaking, is a caricature of that which was in vogue in the time of queen elizabeth. the same remarks apply to the method of hair-dressing, and we shall see, when dealing with the other characters that appear in the harlequinade, that the pantaloon in his dress illustrates that of the same time in our history. unlike the other heroes of the pantomime, the clown is essentially english, and he is to be found also in the circus of to-day, at all times of the year, as well as on the stage at christmas. as to the clown's clothes, first of all there is the ruff, which is, however, not stiffened out. he has trunk hose or wide breeches which do not reach to his knee, his stockings are well ornamented with clocks; and lastly, there is the paint on his face, which brings us to a custom that seems nearly as old as man himself. (see figure and plate x, figure a.) [illustration: fig. .--a clown, showing a survival of an elizabethan costume.] among the relics of the ancient cave men of europe are found hollowed stones, and these were used as mortars in which ochre and other colours were ground for painting the body. [illustration: fig. a. the head of a clown, showing the painted face, the ruff and the elizabethan method of doing the hair. fig. b. the face of a japanese actor. (_after moseley, by the courtesy of mr. john murray._) fig. c. the painted face of a paper figure which is burned at chinese funerals. (_after moseley, by the courtesy of mr. john murray.)_ fig. d. the tattooed head of a maori chief. (_by the courtesy of general robley._) _plate x._] the egyptians still follow the practice of blackening the edge of the eyelid, both below and above the eye, with a black powder called kohl. the material is prepared either from burning an aromatic resin or the shells of almonds. the custom prevailed among both sexes in egypt far back in its history, and long before the historic period, painting the eyes was already practised by the people whom professor petrie called the "new race" (until he determined that they preceded the dynastic egyptians). it may be well to point out that these prehistoric people lived about years b.c.: they had little or no metal, though they made most beautiful flint knives and stone vases. they buried their dead lying on one side with the knees towards the chin, instead of making mummies. among the contents of their tombs have been found curious slate palettes of all shapes and sizes, similar to some which had previously been known for many years, but the origin of which was undetermined. it has been shown that these palettes were used for grinding up malachite to form a green colour with which to paint the eye. the idea was, it is supposed, to mitigate the glare of the sun, and is similar to that which leads anglo-indians to have the under sides of the brims of their hats coloured green. another kind of temporary ornamentation is produced in egypt to-day by staining the feet and hands with the juice of the leaves of henna. the result is that the part to which it is applied becomes a yellowish red or deep orange colour. the most common practice is to dye the tips of the fingers and toes so far as the first joint, the whole of the inside of the hand and the sole of the foot, and there are other and more fanciful modes of applying the henna, which is said to have an agreeable effect upon the skin, particularly in the way of preventing it from becoming too tender. the dyeing has to be renewed every fortnight or three weeks, and the stain is brighter and more permanent on the nails than on the fingers. among many native races in a low stage of civilization there are few who do not decorate their body by painting it in some way. we have already mentioned that painting takes away the appearance of nakedness, and that many nations would be as much ashamed to be seen without their paint, as europeans would be to walk about without their clothes. on special occasions, however, particularly striking colours are put on--for instance, by the australians when about to dance a corroboree, and professor moseley[ ] has pointed out that they have breast stripes and leg stripes such as those which are seen on european uniforms. at first sight these, as professor moseley, indeed, points out, would appear to have quite a different origin, but it will be remembered that when speaking of the hussar uniform and the dutch skeleton dress (see pages - ) it was suggested that the ornamentation might be intended to follow the lines of the chief bones of the body, and it is possible that the same idea may have underlain the painting carried out by savages. in this case what in one instance was effected by paint was in the other done by means of trimmings. paint plays a great part in savage warfare, and no doubt the intention very often was to terrify the adversary. it is apparently this idea which actuated the old inhabitants of this country, who, as cæsar says, stained themselves with woad in order to be of horrider aspect in battle; but dr. tylor has pointed out the error into which many historians have fallen through considering as savages races who, while having attained to considerable civilization, still kept up the practice of colouring their bodies in time of war. to the instances which we have mentioned of modern races staining themselves, we may add that of the hindu women in india, who colour their teeth black and paint their feet scarlet. japanese women blacken their teeth upon marriage. in certain japanese plays the actors have bright streaks of red paint made on their faces, usually on each side of the eyes (see plate x, figure b). professor moseley[ ] records that the same form of painting is to be seen in the case of japanese children on festive occasions, for after they have been elaborately dressed by their parents they are further adorned with one or two transverse and narrow streaks of bright red paint, leading outwards from the outer corners of their eyes, or placed near to that position. the style is the same as that which survives in the case of adults on the stage. professor moseley brings forward a further case showing that such a form of painting possibly existed in ancient times in china. when a man of distinction died in china in former times, a certain number of servants were sacrificed at his burial. now, figures made of pasteboard and paper, about three feet or so high, are burnt instead at the funeral service in small furnaces provided for the purpose in the temples, together with cartloads of similar pasteboard gifts which are sent by the survivors for the use of the dead in the next world. earthenware figures were similarly buried with great men in old times in japan, and we may compare with these customs that of the egyptians who buried models of servants, as mentioned on page , in the graves of their dead. the pasteboard heads of these funeral servants and retainers are painted with streaks, some of which are put on in almost exactly the same style, at the angles of the eyes, as those of modern japanese actors. it seems a fair conjecture that the streaks on these heads are a direct survival of an actual former savage form of painting which was once in vogue in china, and probably used to make fighting men hideous. it is well known that primitive customs survive in connection with funerals all over the world with extreme tenacity. the numerous interesting survivals existing in the case of english funerals are familiar. we give a figure taken from the head of a chinese servant, which professor moseley bought at a manufactory of funeral properties in hong kong. (see plate x, figure c.) with regard to the ordinary use of paint by women in china and japan, professor moseley points out that it is entirely different in principle from that in vogue in europe. he says: "the use of paint as an ornament in china and japan seems to me to be of considerable interest. in both countries the women regularly paint their faces when in full dress, of which the paint is a necessary part. "the paint is not put on with any idea of simulating a beauty of complexion, which might be present naturally, or which has been lost by age. the painted face is utterly unlike the appearance of any natural beauty. "an even layer of white is put on over the whole face and neck, with the exception, in japan, of two or three angular points of natural brown skin, which are left bare at the back of the neck as a contrast. after the face is whitened, a dab of red is rubbed in on the cheeks, below each eye. the lips are then coloured pink with magenta, and in japan this colour is put on so thickly that it ceases to appear red, but takes on the iridescent metallic green tint of the crystallized aniline colour. "in modern japanese picture books, the lips of girls may sometimes be seen to be represented thus green. i suppose the idea is that such application of paint shows a meritorious disregard for expense. it is curious that the use of aniline colour should have so rapidly spread in china and japan. in china, at least, such was not to be expected; but it seems to have supplanted the old rouge, and it is sold spread on folding cards, with chinese characters on them, at canton and in japan. this form of painting the face seems to be exactly of the same nature as savage painting." the likeness of this painting to that of our clowns is of course quite obvious. sometimes the painting of the body has a practical advantage. the andaman islanders plaster themselves with a mixture of lard and coloured earth, which protects their skin from the heat and mosquitoes; but, as dr. tylor points out, they go off into love of display when they proceed to draw lines on the paint with their fingers, or when a dandy will colour one side of his face red and the other olive-green, and make an ornamental border-line where the two colours meet down his chest and abdomen. fashions in paint were quite as slavishly followed as any other, and, as we see, have died hard. it is not a very far cry from painting to tattooing. of savages, théophile gautier has said that, having no clothes to embroider, they embroider themselves. scar tattooing is connected with various rites such as are followed when a brave arrives at manhood, and certainly tattooing serves to indicate the family or tribe to which the ornamented person belongs. there is no doubt, however, that the intention of much tattooing is to increase individual beauty. excellent examples of this are to be found in the case of the maoris, whose faces were most elaborately covered with designs. we are kindly permitted to reproduce some of the drawings which general robley has made from specimens in his magnificent collection (see plate x, figure d). the practice now, however, is dying out. of the formosans it is said that their skins are covered with flower patterns until they look like damask. tattooing was practised by the old inhabitants of this country, by the jews and the earliest egyptians: it is still carried on in modern egypt, chiefly on the chin, on the back of the hands, the arms and feet, the middle of the bosom, and the forehead. it survives principally in the case of the women of the lower classes and in the country. among european sailors and among the lower classes, and even occasionally those up in high social scale, we find tattooing carried on, though the original idea of ornamentation is lost when the decoration is covered by clothing. we have seen occasionally at shows--such as that organized by barnum--white people who have been tattooed to a very great extent, and even in the case of europeans the patterns tend to take off the bare look even of the white skin. no doubt the desire to make permanent such ornamentation as that obtained by painting, led to the introduction of tattooing, and just as some marks suggest that they are copied from amulets, so some amulets show traces of having been derived from tattoo patterns. mr. lovett has pointed out to us that possibly the floral designs worked on the backs of the bodices of the women of marken, in holland, may have originated from tattooing, but no doubt careful research would show some other and undoubted instances. the painting of the face, which is intended to heighten its beauty and hide the ravages of time, is quite another matter. it survives to the present day, but luckily it is much less common in this country than it was a few years ago. it does not, however, seem to have been at all in vogue in england until the middle ages, though cosmetics and false complexions were made use of by ladies in roman times. fairholt[ ] quotes from an old french poem of the thirteenth century which describes the wares of a mercer who declares, "i have cotton with which they rouge, and whitening with which they whiten themselves." the cotton took the place of the hare's foot that is now used in making up, to rub colour on the cheeks. at this point we might consider patches, the use of which made it possible to ornament the skin with patterns that could be removed at will. these patches came into fashion in charles i's reign, but were banned by the puritans. as soon, however, as charles ii came into his own again, they made their appearance once more, and took various fantastic shapes: owls, rings, crescents, and crowns; a coach and horses was particularly fashionable, and in the time of queen anne it was possible to tell the political views of fashionable ladies by their faces and their fans. party feeling ran very high at this time, and those who were neutral wore patches on both cheeks, a whig lady on the right side only, while a high church tory dame only adorned the left, and she wore suspended from her wrist a fan on which was depicted a scene from the trial of dr. sacheverell at westminster hall. red and white paint was at the same time universally employed by women of fashion, who, as miss helen gordon[ ] says, had perforce to keep their lovers at a respectful distance, lest a kiss "snatched by a forward one might transfer the complexion of the mistress to the admirer." the untimely decease of more than one famous beauty was attributed to the paint with which she besmeared her countenance, a notable instance being the death of lady coventry, whose husband had been wont to chase her round the dinner-table in his determined efforts to remove the deleterious compound from her face with his serviette. according to walpole, lady mary wortley montagu used the cheapest white paint obtainable, and left it so long on her skin that it had literally to be scraped off. it may be inferred that these fine ladies rarely washed; but "the age was careless in that respect, personal cleanliness at a discount, and the essence pot consequently in great demand." we spoke just now of fans, which can, perhaps, be considered an article of dress as they are very often fastened to the person. there seems no doubt but that at first fans did not close, and were made of feathers like those still in use in the east from whence they are derived. probably in the beginning, leaves were used as fans, and palm-leaf fans are still to be seen. fans were in general use in the sixteenth century, and the folding one appeared in the next. sometimes, as at the end of the eighteenth century, large green fans, called sunshades, were used out of doors in the same way as a modern parasol now is. there is another use of the fan still to be noted in china, namely, for blowing up a fire, and from this we no doubt get the expression of "fanning the flame." painting apparently was not only practised by women, for male courtiers at the end of the sixteenth century occasionally coloured their faces. if we are to believe some of the writers in the newspapers of to-day, men of leisure are not a whit better nor less foolish now. of masks as an ordinary everyday addition to costume we have no survivals, except in connection with some balls and an occasional burglary; but masks such as we see on the th of november will remind us, like the face of the clown, of primitive face-painting, and also of the many curious head-dresses and masks which savages wear at certain ceremonies and dances. it is easy to produce grotesque effects by means of masks, and the discomfort that would arise from the paint is thereby avoided. the practice of wearing masks, and indeed dominoes, by private individuals came from venice. in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries masks made of black satin and velvet often formed part of the toilet of society ladies. at one period the wearing of them was restricted to the times of carnivals; at another, the nobility alone were allowed to use them, and now we only see masks at fancy-dress balls. of the unwritten laws that rule the wearing of the mask, mrs. aria says[ ]: "whether worn privately or in public, its disguise has at all times and in all countries been respected as inviolably sacred. to the masked the greatest extravagance of language and gesture is permitted. he is allowed to indulge in acrid personalities and proclaim scathing truths, which, even if addressed to the monarch himself, go unrebuked. to strike a mask is a serious offence, while in no class of society, however degraded, would any one dare to unmask a woman. yet another prerogative entitles the masked to invite any woman present, whether masked or not, to dance with him, etiquette decreeing that the queen of the land may not claim exemption from this rule. dear to romance is the masked highwayman, who flourished until the advent of railways robbed him of his occupation; and a grim figure is ever the masked headsman." xxix stage costumes the harlequin, pantaloon, columbine, and acrobat while punch has left the stage and is now a puppet, some of his coadjutors are with us, for the harlequinade is still introduced into many pantomimes at christmas, and special plays have been written in which these characters appear. the harlequin, who gives his name to what is now an interlude, was some thousand or two years back one of the important personages in the old italian comedy which gave us punch, and which we have already mentioned in a previous chapter. harlequin was versatile and many-sided, and he still keeps up his slap-dash character. it is true that harlequin does not now speak, any more than does the columbine, and we may trace the evolution of the italian mimi, or buffoons, into the pantomimi, who were tragic actors. they, by means of certain well-understood signs and gestures, were able to play tragedies in the open air under conditions which would have prevented their voices from being heard. in some theatres also the actors were not allowed by the authorities to speak. originally the harlequin was a mime. he had a shaven head, a sooty face--for the mimi blackened their faces like our modern niggers--he had flat, unshod feet and a patched coat of many colours which he derived from the ancient peasants of italy. some have seen in the wand of the harlequin a descendant of the rod of mercury, and have sought for a prototype of the modern pantomime in pagan mysteries. in england, however, we have turned the harlequin into a magician, and his wand is perhaps the gilt wooden sword which belonged to the clown or fool all the world over. now also we have the character in what mr. calthrop terms his tight-fitting lizard-skin of flashing golden colours, for the patches on his rags have now given place to a symmetrical pattern (see figure ). there have been many celebrated harlequins who have devoted their lives to the development of this character, and there is an interesting case which disraeli[ ] gives in his "curiosities of literature," in which, as part of a quit-rent or feudal tenure--whenever the abbot of figéac entered this town--the lord of montbron, dressed in a harlequin's coat, with one of his legs bare, has to lead the prelate's horse by its bridle to the abbey. [illustration: fig. .--the dress of a modern harlequin.] in the clown and the pantaloon we still have the dress of elizabethan times (see figures and ). the paint on the former, as we have seen, will carry us back to times of remote antiquity. his hat is of a shape well known in early english history, and he himself is english all through. the pantaloon, again, is italian. both he and his venetian breeches get their names from st. pantaleone, one of the patron saints of venice. pantaleone was by no means an uncommon patronymic in that place. in order to reconcile the statements that the dress of the pantaloon is elizabethan and his nether garments are venetian, which might appear to be mutually contradictory, it must be pointed out that the venetian breeches had been introduced in the days of earlier tudors, and were still in vogue when elizabeth was on the throne. the pantaloon's red and green colours and his red heels are also, as we have indicated, elizabethan. [illustration: fig. .--a pantaloon, showing an elizabethan costume of which venetian breeches form part.] the columbine, who, like the harlequin, does not speak, and so keeps up the pantomime character, wears the ballet dress of early victorian times. originally she was a female harlequin, or harlequinne, and her dress of spangles is still sometimes used in fancy-dress dances. of the other characters, who once assisted those that we have described, we have none left. scaramouch persisted for some time, and was, like the harlequin and columbine, a pantomimist. he has gone even from punch and judy, though the doctor still remains. though not strictly a theatrical performer, but seen in the circus, the music-hall, and still also as a wandering mountebank, we have the acrobat. his dress is simple and eminently suitable for the work which he has to do; it consists of a vest, of very short trunk hose or breeches, and long florentine hose, or, as we now call them, tights. though such a costume was worn in the reigns of the early tudors, in detail the breeches are very much like those which were worn by lord darnley, the husband of mary queen of scots. doubtless also in the tights which are so familiar on the stage we have a survival similar to that seen in the acrobat, the clown, and the knights of the older orders. xxx nightdress bands on nightgowns--nightcaps--night attire worn in the street going to bed can hardly be called a ceremony; but the dress in which the bulk of humanity now sleeps can claim to be a special one. there are, of course, many people, who are not mere casual tramps, who sleep in their everyday clothes. drovers who have to go to out-of-the-way places with cattle, where they can never be sure of getting a lodging, will sleep possibly after merely removing their outer coat, and it stands to reason that men engaged in this business can hardly be bothered to carry luggage with them. any survivals that we may have to deal with in the case of our airiest dresses will not take us very far back into history, because our ancestors, from all accounts, went to an extreme which is the opposite to that which we have just been mentioning, and instead of keeping on all their clothes at night, they took them all off and put on no others. mr. calthrop[ ] graphically describes a scene which he supposes to be taking place in the reign of william rufus. a lady is disturbed while getting ready for bed by a cry of "sanctuary," and watches from her window until the fugitive is let into the church by the monks. in concluding his story, mr. calthrop says, "the night is cold. the lady pulls a curtain across the window, and then, stripping herself of her chemise, she gets into bed." a man's nightshirt is severe in cut like that which he wears in the day, and the sides are slit up in both garments as they are in the dalmatic and the tunics worn by the anglo-saxons, which were like a day shirt, longer behind than in front. a survival of the latter as an outer garment is to be seen in the short smocks worn by labourers who dig drains and do similar work. the lady's nightgown may be elegantly ornamented with lace in the same way as are the linen garments which she wears in the daytime; but very often we find a large collar edged with lace, which recalls the falling band which we have had so often to mention. (see figure .) to a great extent sleeping suits of a coat and trousers, which are known by the name of pyjamas, have taken the place of the man's nightshirt. these have the merit of making a man look more presentable if called up on an emergency. we shall see, if we contrast male and female fashions, that it has always been customary for the costume of women to follow that of men, though most ladies draw the line at adopting trousers. we have heard, however, of one young lady at least who does by night what she will not do by day, for she has given up her nightgown in favour of pyjamas. [illustration: fig. .--the bands that survive on a lady's nightdress.] [illustration: fig. .--a woman's nightcap, still worn in wiltshire.] here and there we find that nightcaps are still worn. that belonging to an old lady, which we figure (see figure ), came from the village of bishopstone in wiltshire, where no fewer than twelve old ladies, all of them over eighty, still wear such a head-dress at night. nightcaps were worn by men in the time of the tudors, and that of queen elizabeth, as is shown by the following extract from a bill of : "pd. for two nyght caps of vellvet for them, s. d."[ ] they were very elaborately embroidered at this time, and in mary's reign were mentioned in a sumptuary law. old men still wear nightcaps, and the one we figure was used until lately at south stoke in oxfordshire. it is of the familiar style that we associate with such a head-dress, and has a tassel on the top. (see figure .) [illustration: fig. .--a man's nightcap, from oxfordshire.] in the time of queen anne ladies wore their nightdresses, or night-rails as they were called, in the streets, and the fashion seems to have been in vogue at later times, though every means were taken to try and abolish it. it was not until a murderess was persuaded to appear at her execution in a bedgown that the fad was relinquished. xxxi the dress of animals natural representatives of clothes--horse trappings--amulets on harness--dogs' disguises--fashions in the form of animals here and there in the animal kingdom we find that creatures protect themselves from injury by building up cases and coverings from extraneous materials, and these may very well be compared with the armour and clothes of mankind. protection may be gained by merely securing something ready made to take the place of a coat, as is done in the case of the hermit-crab or "soldier," which covers itself with the shell of some dead mollusc. the caddis worm, or larva of the caddis fly, builds its home of sticks and stones or twigs, and thereby not only preserves its soft body from injury, but also harmonizes with its surroundings, in the same way as does the soldier on active service in time of war. to gain protection, also, some molluscs when building their shells introduce stones and other shells and corals into the edifice, so that they become indistinguishable from the sea-bottom on which they lie. many caterpillars cover themselves with bits of leaves, and even with the help of silk make spiral shells that might easily be mistaken for those of snails. the silk also, from which many of our gay clothes are made, is spun by the silkworm, which, like the larva of many moths, produces it in order to protect the chrysalis while it rests. we are occupied here, however, with the coverings of animals that they owe to man, and first and foremost of those creatures which have come in for his polite attentions is the horse. we may recall the armour by which the chargers of the old knights were protected, and the trappings or emblazoned coverings that were put over this in the same way as the surcoat was made to cover the armour of the knights. (see figure .) the trappings were often made of coloured satin, and were embroidered with gold and silver, and at the exhibition held by the burlington fine arts society in a chasuble of red velvet was shown, embroidered with the arms of england in gold, which was apparently made from a horse-trapper of the fourteenth century. figure well shows how the horses carried the armorial bearings of their masters. in the ostrich-feather ornaments and the velvet trappings of modern funeral horses, we still have some remnants of the days of chivalry. to-day horse clothing, though not intended to be of an ornamental character, we should imagine, is still often decorated with a monogram of the horse's owner. perhaps one of the most interesting survivals in connection with horses is to be found in the brasses which decorate those used for carts and waggons. dr. plowright[ ] has shown that many of these ornaments, which are really amulets put on to the harness with a view to protecting the horses against the evil eye, are of moorish origin. he contrasts their style with the ornamental details shown in the alhambra, and he figures a number which take the form of a crescent, or a crescent enclosing an eight-rayed star, and others in which the ornament shows eyes and eyebrows conventionalized. in other cases we get the fleur-de-lys treated in an arabesque way, the escallop shell and the mystic interlaced triangles (which were considered the talisman of talismans, and are known as the seal of solomon or the shield of david), with a crescent in the centre. miss lina eckenstein[ ] figures many other horse brasses which can be compared with those worn by roman cart-horses. among them is the crescent, which was also worn by women carved in ivory, and by certain senators as ornaments on their shoes. the crescent is made from a thin plate of metal, and is worn by children on the west coast of india, with the points upwards, as a protection against the evil eye, and gold ornaments of similar shape are among those which were worn in ancient peru. the moon, from times of remote antiquity, has been represented by a ring for the full moon and a half-ring or sickle for the crescent. miss eckenstein does not, however, carry the origin of the horse amulets back to the stone stage of civilization, but she thinks that the crescent represents two boars' tusks joined together by a thong, and the horse-amulet now worn in italy shows the thinness and sharpness of curve that would be evident in one which was made out of boars' tusks. [illustration: fig. .--an english horse amulet in the form of a crescent. the flat places near the tips of the horns are evidence that the form is derived from two boars' tusks.] we may point out that in some english crescents the hollows which one tusk makes by wearing against its fellow are represented by little flat places on the horns of the crescent near their tips. (see figure .) the brasses seen in england to-day are worn on the face-plate, breast-plate, and martingale. on grand occasions, such as may day celebrations, and the cart-horse parade of whit monday, brasses are specially put on, though there is a tendency now for them to be stamped out of thin metal instead of being cast, with the result that they soon wear out. german horses wear the crescent on a strap which dangles below the right ear. the english crescent from harness will be found to match those which are represented on the horses on trajan's column and other monuments. the same design is to be seen also on the harness of camels and elephants. the most important symbol besides the moon is that of the sun, which is worn on the top of the head between the ears. heraldic brasses are not uncommon, and the heart-shaped amulet is also seen; it is possible, too, that this form may be connected with that of the flint arrows, which we have already mentioned as being worn as amulets. in egypt, an amulet hung on a cow is said to protect the woman who owns it, and miss eckenstein suggests a similar origin in the case of the heart worn by horses. a brass showing a horse rampant, came from the estate of the duke of norfolk at arundel, and it will be seen on looking at the arms of the nobleman in question that this device forms one of the supporters of his shield. in prehistoric egypt the slate palettes on which malachite was ground for face painting were often in the form of two birds, with their bodies put back to back, and their heads fully shown, and when this form degenerates it becomes a kind of heart-shaped shield. professor petrie has pointed out that when this decoration is used, as on coffins and elsewhere, it is often thought to be merely a shield. possibly the heart-shaped amulet may have some connection with this. [illustration: fig. .--an english horse amulet showing both the heart and the sun.] an amulet found by professor vellucci in umbria consisted of an arrow-head sewn upon a piece of scarlet cloth, which was of a heart shape, and was intended doubtless to emphasize the heart significance. another horse amulet, obtained by miss eckenstein from sicily, also consists of a piece of scarlet cloth cut into the shape of a heart and decorated with tinsel. an english horse brass seen in figure shows both the heart and the sun. while on the subject of horses, one might allude to the wisps of straw which are twisted in the mane and tail of cart-horses when they are for sale at markets and fairs. horses were sacrificed in the old days; and as the slaying of domestic animals was supposed to secure fruitfulness, the horse became identified as a corn spirit, and the killing of horses formed a necessary incident of the harvest. the deity demeter took upon himself the semblance of a mare, and the word mare is applied in the midlands to the last uncut ears of corn, at which the sickles are thrown in order to bring them down. it is possible that the wisps of straw worn by horses are connected with these ideas. a very curious and interesting custom is represented on the trappings of the horses ridden by the officers of the th hussars. these trappings are ornamented on full-dress occasions with cowry shells; and to find a parallel to this we have to go to the east, where the head-stalls of the camels and mules are covered with the shells, while round their necks and those of donkeys there may hang an ornament or bell on a band which is similarly decorated. it will be noted that there is a pendant from the head of the hussar horse which resembles that of the mule of the holy land. there is no doubt but that originally these ornaments were really amulets, and it is said that they are a survival of ancient phallic worship. (see figures - .) cowry shells were once generally used by the hussars, and were revived in the case of the th hussars in connection with service in india. [illustration: fig. .--the cowry-shell ornaments on the head of an officer's charger of the th hussars. the pendant recalls that on mules in palestine.] toby, as we have seen, is decorated with an elizabethan ruff, but the wearing of collars and bells by pet animals is a remnant of a very old custom, and on early mediæval brasses in this country, dogs are often seen decorated with collars--sometimes bearing their actual names--and with bells. now the wearing of a collar is enforced by law as a means of identification. all dogs found without collars may be considered as strays, and the regulation followed, as is well known, upon the muzzling order by which hydrophobia was practically stamped out. [illustration: fig. .--cowry shells on an eastern mule, hanging like the pendant of the th hussars.] [illustration: fig. .--cowry shells on the head-stall of a camel from palestine.] mr. c. j. cornish[ ] once considered the subject of animals' clothes, and made some interesting remarks on horses' hats and sun-bonnets. he described the following sight, met with in kensington gore: first came a costermonger with his horse duly "hatted" and the hat trimmed with ribbon; next came a lady wearing a hat, in a victoria. her horse also had a hat, and both hats had pink flowers in them. in holland, cows wear rain-proof jackets all the winter, and coats for show cattle are quite the fashion in england. mr. cornish says that a really smart jersey cow would not like to be seen at a show without her luggage--"a chest containing, not only her sleeping jacket, but her brushes and combs, cosmetics and horn protectors. she puts on, or has put on, a smarter jacket in the daytime if she has to stand in a draughty place; if she is not sleeping out it does not so much matter. there are many ladies who would almost go without a jacket themselves rather than see their best animals go to a show without proper clothes." in the north lambs are provided with waterproof coats when going on to the hills. these garments are called "brats," and the name has been transferred not only to the young sheep themselves, but also to human babies. we are all familiar with the clothes which monkeys wear when they go about with organs, and the big apes which are exhibited at shows are sometimes even clothed in the dress suit of conventionality. johanna, the chimpanzee which was at barnum's exhibition, looked very effective in her petticoats, and the penguins at the zoo, when performing tricks, wear coats, while animal actors are often dressed to suit their parts. there is one case at least in which animals are disguised by dressing them up. there was a duck-decoy dog which was known to mr. cornish, which, in the first instance, grew as much like a fox as it was possible for a dog to be. this proved exceedingly attractive to the ducks, which seem to have an irresistible impulse to swim after a fox in order to see what he is about. in a short time, however, they get used to a particular dog, and their curiosity dies away. then the dog's master supplies him with a disguise in the shape of a jacket made of sheepskin. furthermore, when this palls a rough woollen jacket of a black colour is brought into requisition, and the dog apparently knows the meaning of the whole performance. in other cases the disguise of a decoy dog takes the shape of a foxskin with its brush. racing dogs, prize dogs, and pet dogs also have their coats, and we have heard even of bracelets for poodles, while there are fashions which regulate the way in which the hair of these dogs should be cut. just as men and women deform themselves, so they mutilate their animals by the clipping of their ears and the shortening of their tails--practices which are worse than the dubbing of the birds' combs in the old days of cock-fighting, for the infliction of one slight injury probably prevented many. this deforming of animals is a savage custom, for hottentots twist the horns of their cattle and sheep, while a number of horns are produced in africa by splitting the budding horns of the young animals. though not obviously causing any deformity, there is one fashion which, though condemned by most people, is still followed by otherwise cultured and humane people. we refer to the bearing-rein with which horses' heads are kept in unnatural, uncomfortable, and constrained positions. if, however, we consider animal fashions as a whole, and bring under discussion the colours and peculiarities of the fur or feathers that cover their bodies, we shall find that men from quite early times have amused themselves with producing all manner of curious and striking appearances. the fact is, that the ordinary conditions and dangers of life in the open, which would soon eliminate any creatures out of harmony with their surroundings, do not act in the case of domesticated animals very much; and this has been a help. we have, therefore, white rats, piebald mice, gold fishes--some even with several tails--yellow canaries, frizzled bantams, hairless dogs, hornless cattle, booted bantams, and top-knotted fowls, as well as hosts of patterns and forms that are hardly to be numbered. there is an adage that "like produces like," but the student of heredity has recently become aware of the fact that animals of a certain colour may not always produce offspring which resemble them in this respect; but that in order to get the tint required for show purposes, parents of some particular but unfashionable colour should be chosen. the colour of animals is taken into consideration in connection with ceremonies. white elephants have to be treated as if they were gods, and proverbially cost much to keep. black horses are usually used at funerals; white or grey horses, which are much decorated with the badges and insignia of the regiments, carry the kettledrums of the cavalry. the scots greys take their name from their horses, which are all grey, like those with which, it is said, they were supplied by william iii in flanders. spotted dalmatian hounds are those which are chosen to run by the side of carriages, while circus horses exhibit much variety of colouring. whips are perhaps a little beside the subject, though there are fashions with regard to them. not long ago it was customary for the whip stick in connection with a smart turn-out to have a bend in it. in various parts of the east the camel driver carries in a graceful manner a red forked stick, and one of this form was used as a sceptre in ancient egypt from b.c. downwards, so that we meet with a very interesting, if humble, survival of what was once a royal ornament. xxxii colour importance of colour--instinctive love of bright hues--desirability of coloured clothes and gay scenes--colour and complexion it has been apparent throughout this book, as it is in everyday life, that colour plays a tremendous part. not only has it often a great significance, but its presence or absence must also have a considerable effect upon the minds of the people at large. one cannot help thinking that if women were to dress as a whole in the same quiet, or let us say solemn, tints which are characteristic of men in their everyday life, how much we should lose. yet that there is a craving for bright colours is shown in every direction, and that they are attractive to those who do not themselves have an opportunity of wearing them is also obvious. the high church clergy in this country make use of the coloured vestments that had developed in the roman catholic church previous to the reformation, and which have been proclaimed illegal. the new universities vie with the older seats of learning in the colours which they choose for gowns and hoods. it is merely a question of expense which prevents the fancy-dress dance from being more common than it is. the pageants which have been held in various parts of this country, and the profits which have been made in many cases, bear out what we have said. men, as shown by the red coats which they don for hunting and golfing, the colours in which they ride steeplechases or play hockey, or the dresses in which they bathe, seek as far as possible during their leisure hour pursuits to go back to bright array. plays also are popular which are cast in the times when picturesque attire flourished or which borrow it from oriental countries. the significance of colour is exceedingly far reaching. the ordinary liveries of royalty in this country are red; the red shirt of the followers of garibaldi, the red cap of liberty in the french revolution, the red rose of lancaster, call to mind great struggles. the platelayer, it is said, is instructed to wear a red tie so that on emergency it may be used as a danger signal. a red ribbon worn in the hair of a girl in some places on the continent shows that she is engaged to be married, and it is with a red rag that the chulos in the bull fight enrage the bull. the term "born in the purple" alludes to this colour having been that adopted by emperors and kings in the past. yellow is a favourite colour with gipsies; the women wear yellow kerchiefs and yellow beads, while the men favour yellow neckties. mr. yoxall[ ] points out that this colour was worn by mediæval jews, and had a contemptuous or degrading significance. we have seen that yellow has been chosen as a mourning colour in oriental countries, and possibly it was adopted on some particular occasion by gipsies like the black worms that we have mentioned in the lace of military uniforms, and has never been entirely left off since. among savages, yellow comes next in popularity to red, and it is said that young children are also fond of red, but are inclined to prefer yellow. the latter colour is not so stimulating as red, and this is well shown by the fact that the red light used in photographic works was found to cause so much mental irritation on the part of the workers that it has been abandoned in many cases in favour of orange. as regards the preference of older persons, it has been found that schoolgirls are more precocious than boys in the discrimination of colours, and never prefer orange to any other colour, yet they choose yellow rather than green, and usually than violet, but never prefer it to red or blue. as age goes on, male students shift their liking towards the violet end of the spectrum which is the favourite one with men, while women keep to the red. blue is associated in this country with the boat race held between representatives of the two old universities of oxford and cambridge, and blue is usually taken to represent the liberal side in political elections. the blue blouse of the butcher is characteristic, and, as we have found, is a still better instance of the survival of a trade costume than that seen in the case of servants. the colour, it is said, was chosen, as blood stains are not so noticeable upon it as upon other tints. a black habit is that which the clergy adopt when not engaged in religious duties, while white has for centuries been used by them when conducting services. the same two colours, if we can so call them, are to be found in mourning, and to them a man is now restricted when he appears in ordinary court or evening dress. the use of colour merely as a distinguishing mark without any deeper origin or special significance is so general that we shall touch upon it, and recall one or two instances with which we have previously met. the gorgeous dresses of the masons and the bright green scarfs of their humbler brethren, the foresters, are further evidences of the love which civilized man still retains of dressing himself up. it is only but little less strongly developed apparently in him than it is in his children and in savage people. we pointed out that red, although a special character of the british army, is very far from being the universal colour of the uniform. we have had to deal with blue, buff, white, and black among the other colours that are to be seen adorning the bodies of our soldiers. the colours of heraldry no longer appear on our persons, except when we wear favours such as ribbons of red, white, and blue that come from national flags, and here we may recall that the standards of our regiments are called their "colours," and illustrate not only regimental but national history. the part that colour plays in the hoods and gowns of academical dress has on more than one occasion occupied our attention. various coloured veils serve to differentiate the sisters of a religious order, while the ribbons and mantles of the knightly orders serve a similar purpose. it seems a great pity that at the present day the chapters or meetings of these orders are seldom if ever held, and it would surely be interesting and useful, as well as enlivening, for certain occasions to be created on which the public might have an opportunity of seeing more of the dresses which have been handed down to our own times. it is true that the king has of recent years opened parliament in person, and glimpses may have been had of him in his state robes by a privileged few, but surely some opportunity should be found of having more pageants which are real and where there is no need for any make-believe. besides having the advantages which we have urged would accrue from the bringing of a little more colour into our lives, such meetings would also have a practical result, and be exceedingly good for trade. it is obvious that certain costumes, particularly the gay peasant dresses of the continent, suit the style, complexion, and colouring of those who wear them. in races like our own, where we have all kinds of stages between the very fair blonde and the very dark brunette, the question of the choice of colours from an artistic point of view is important. there is also the question of surroundings to be considered, though nowadays it is not every one who can afford the time, as the late mrs. haweis did, to visit the rooms in which she was invited to spend an evening, so that the colours of her costume might be arranged to harmonize with her temporary surroundings. xxxiii patterns ancient designs--checks and tartans--parti-coloured clothes--evolution of ornamentation the subject of patterns is a very wide one, and we shall content ourselves with mentioning a few to show how these have survived. when speaking of studs, we had occasion to mention the swastika or fylfot, which is probably the earliest known symbol. it is the forerunner of the cross, and it occurs on ecclesiastical vestments as well as civil clothes, and the well-known key pattern was derived from it. on plate vii, figure f, it may be seen on the shoulder of the romano-egyptian man, and its use seems to be almost universal. the pine pattern which we see on shawls is of eastern origin, and it is said that it originally was taken from a map of some rivers in cashmere. checks and plaids are among the commonest of our present-day designs, and the gauls and those of our forerunners, who flourished at the time of cæsar, wore breeches of chequered patterns. in fact, the very name of breeches is derived from "breac," which means striped or spotted, and in gaelic also signifies the trout, which is speckled. usually the ancient breeches showed a number of colours, in which, according to diodorus, red predominated. queen boadicea wore a tunic apparently of plaid, the colours of which had a mixture of blue, red, and yellow. the real shepherd's plaid of scotland is of a plainer character, being merely black and white, but it is in the special tartans of the scotch clans that we find the system of coloured lines and squares carried to great perfection. these tartans, as we may judge, date back to times of which we have no record, but they have been used continuously in historic times. in the accounts of king james iii of scotland, in , there are several entries with regard to money spent on tartans. the tartans, of course, were a distinguishing mark of the various scottish clans, but sometimes, when attempts have been made to identify the patterns, confusion has arisen owing to the fact that many clans had more than one tartan; in fact, there may be the common clan tartan; that which was worn only by the chief and his heir; a dress tartan; a fourth for hunting, and a fifth for mourning. for instance, while the dress tartan of the macphersons consists chiefly of black and white, with thin lines of red and yellow, the hunting tartan of the same clan is black and buff, with lines of blue and red. similarly, in the royal stuart tartans, we find that the ordinary royal stuart has large red squares, the hunting tartan is mostly green and blue, while the dress stuart has a large amount of white in its composition. there was, of course, a wonderful variety in colours, and it is interesting to note that all the dyes required were obtained from common native plants. in england, after the norman conquest, there seems to have been little pattern used up to the time of henry ii, when diaper began to appear. just as damask takes its name from damascus, so diaper originally was derived from d'ypres, meaning "of ypres," a town which was noted for rich stuffs and fine linen. in edward ii's time pied cloth and parti-coloured silks came into vogue, while costumes of a parti-coloured character, which developed in the following reign to such an extent, were seen for the first time. sometimes the whole dress would be symmetrically divided, so that half was of one colour and half of another. again, the clothes would be striped in various directions, or one would find the right arm and left leg coloured blue, while the other two limbs were red. we get something of the same kind of ornamentation nowadays, as already noticed, in the dress of jockeys and the colours of athletic clubs. in studying decorative patterns, the way in which some natural object has often become conventionalized is very interesting to trace, and if this is so in the case of art of civilized people, it is still more true of savage decoration. our object is not, however, to deal with the evolution of ornamentation pure and simple, though we commend its study to our readers. turning to the jews for a moment, we may recall that part of the adornment of the high priests consisted of pomegranates and bells. the connection does not seem at all obvious, and mrs. finn has suggested that the bells are probably the flowers of the pomegranate which have been conventionalized. xxxiv impressions to be gained from dress clues from clothes--individuality not disguised by them--modern dress of other countries--significance of clothes if we turn our attention once more to clothes and their effect upon the outsider, there are questions to consider with regard to what may be judged from dress. first of all, as to the matter of social status, it must be confessed that it is very much more difficult nowadays than it was years ago to make any pronouncements from clothes, though it must be pointed out that there is a way of wearing clothes, quite irrespective of their kind, that will help us considerably in making a judgment. the reason for the levelling up or down as the case may be, is due, of course, to the standard of luxury having been raised and the price of materials for clothing having been lowered. as regards the determination of the profession of the wearer from his or her dress, it must be said that often we remain quite at a loss in the matter. bearing and expression and general action may again afford a clue. characteristic costumes are now rare. we can tell the cleric as a rule, though some, especially those who have belonged to some other profession previously, will not adopt the collarless coat of black, the choker, or the white tie. servants' liveries may be left out of consideration here, but the man that has to do with horses proverbially looks "horsey." to the list of uniforms to which we are accustomed there has been added of recent years that of the hospital nurse. the garb of various sisterhoods still catches our eye, and there are certain points which may help us occasionally in identifying a doctor, a lawyer, a schoolmaster, and an actor. according to a recent article by a detective in one of the daily papers,[ ] the characteristics and individuality of a man will show through his clothes, and the writer alluded to, suggests the putting of a clergyman into a soldier's or a sailor's uniform, or again, the dressing of a valet in his master's clothes. "he will look quite different. he will give a fresh character to the clothes, and you will realize at once that he is a second-hand copy." mr. chevasse says that if you walk down oxford street, piccadilly, or through the city, you may pick out the ex-army officer, in his mufti tweed, for his instinct for dress is so ingrained that it is easy to recognize him. mr. chevasse would tell the fashionable physician from the following signs. his frock coat, scrupulously cut, his silk hat correctly quiet, which fit in with his sleek manners and the sang-froid of his superior knowledge. the dress dummy is another type--the man with the airs of a peacock, whose every article of dress is meant to attract attention. of the actor whom one meets in the strand, it is said that the odds and ends which he wears are typical of the parts he plays, but that his real individual character is not disguised as sometimes he might wish it to be. in similar fashion we are given the points of the modern solicitor, of whom there are, we are told, two classes. the first type is dressed to exhale prosperity, and to convince the litigant that he is a safe man, but the character of his waistcoat will tell you more often than not that he robs peter to pay paul. the dress of other solicitors beams out sincerity, truth, reliability; the cloth is good and plain, and is well fitted to inspire trust and confidence. at the present time so many visitors from other countries, who are sojourning here for a while or have come to stay, are to be seen in our streets, that it may be of interest to see what the editor of the _tailor and cutter_[ ] has to say upon the subject of their dress, or so far as that of the men goes. he says that, as a rule, in the case of the members of the aristocracy of all nations, their garments give the impression of having been made in london, and are free from the peculiarities which characterize those of other countries. generally speaking, however, it is not difficult to tell the nationality of a man by his clothes. the american's garments are usually made two sizes too large for him. the collar of his coat is very narrow, and the shoulders and back, on the other hand, exceedingly wide. his jackets are often extremely long, his trousers are peg-tops, finished with raised seams. in some ways the german is a modified american, though often there is to be found a seam up the front of his coat from the waist, as he likes plenty of room about his chest, of which he makes much. while the american, however, often has his coat finished in some extraordinary way which he fancies to be original, there is a lack of personality about the german, and the uniformity of his garments would appear to be the result of his military training. the american likes a lounge suit, and the german the same, or a morning coat, while the frenchman favours the latter or a frock coat, which he has finished off with as much ornamentation as possible in the way of silk facings, braided edges, and fantastic flaps. his garments are close-fitting, and the waist is emphasized. the spaniard is like the frenchman with modifications, for his garments are tasteful and neat, with few peculiarities. in warm weather he wears no vest, and his jackets are close-fitting and finished with a low roll. in austrian and hungarian clothes french and german ideas seem to be skilfully blended, while italian dress has more of the french than of the german characters. norwegians and danes are like englishmen, though there is perhaps a little more preciseness and stiffness about their clothes. the colonial has no desire for show, and his tweed lounge suit is cut for comfort and made up for strength. the impressions to be gained from dress that we have hitherto mentioned in this chapter are chiefly those which are unintentionally given to us by their wearers. the significances which it is meant that clothes should bear are still most numerous and important. to-day, on ordinary occasions, rank is not shown by any special dress, which those in high stations themselves wear, though the case of their servants is different. in earlier times in our history, especially under the earlier tudors, rank was indicated in civilian dress. now the frock coat worn by king and peer is considered just as necessary in many businesses, and is characteristic of the shop-walker. men of assured position can even afford to dress badly, though the poor man cannot. here and there we have met with survivals of class costumes (see pages and ), and to these we may add that of the costermongers, for in the dress of both men and women there are peculiarities which single them out. in the same way we find remnants here and there of special dresses that are characteristic of trades. the blue blouse of the butcher, the white clothes of the butterman or man cook, and the white cap of the latter are cases in point; and in connection with certain duties and modern manufactures we have special dresses. we might allude to the overalls of furriers, feather merchants, and stationers. divers, sewage men, and miners have special dresses, and boiler cleaners have a curious dress of coat and trousers made in one, which recalls one form of the military tunic used by the norman soldiers, which sometimes ended in closely fitting trousers. it was first drawn on the legs, and the arms were then put through the sleeves. such combination garments are shown in contemporary drawings, and it has been questioned whether these were really made in one piece, but the artist, though he might not indicate with certainty the openings through which they were put on, is hardly likely to have left out the lines which would have made clear a division at the waist. at the present time in england there are very little differences in the costume of single and married women, though it was once compulsory for them to dress differently. the remains, however, of the custom are to be found in plenty in foreign countries. in many professions rank is indicated by the dress or its ornamentations. in the army and navy, the church, the legal profession, such points are obvious. we have had occasion to deal with academical costume, and in the knightly orders the same holds good. just as an undergraduate has a stuff gown, while a graduate may have a silk one, a proctor is given velvet sleeves and the chancellor of the university an embroidered gown and train, so, for instance, in the order of knights of the order of st. john of jerusalem, the knight of grace has a stuff gown, the knight of justice a silk one, while the grand prior is habited in velvet. xxxv the effect of clothes upon the individual the origin of stays--tight lacing no new thing--its effects--mr. heather bigg on the need for support--the ideal foot--skull deformities--padding we have already seen (page ) that the human form may be directly mutilated in connection with the wearing of ornaments and in order to produce scars or tattoo marks which are considered to be embellishments and often in a way take the place of clothes, in so much as they do away with the appearance of nakedness. now we may consider the distortions which are actually caused by clothes and bandages. there are cases for which, as a rule, we have to look outside the confines of europe in which special contrivances are worn for a time in order to permanently alter the shape of some part of the body. then, again, we meet among the races which claim to be most highly civilized instances which are not one whit less barbaric, but in which some article of dress is intended to cause or allowed to produce distortions, which satisfy the dictates of some particular fashion. it may be that an appearance of elegance or smartness is aimed at which may be the natural attribute of some persons and the envy of others, or a false idea of symmetry may lead to the same thing. the idea of altering bodily conformation is very ancient, but following our usual plan we will touch, first of all, on the modern examples of the custom before tracing the older ones. not very long ago, and not for the first time in history, a great many women became imbued with the notion that there was nothing more desirable in this world than a wasp-like waist; and there are rumours, not to say signs, even in the twentieth century, when it might be supposed that we were getting more sensible, that a similar madness is again to overtake the gentler sex. now we may discuss the apparatus which has been degraded into carrying out the painful duty of producing an attenuated figure. the name stays indicates exactly the original intention of the clothing to which it is applied; but unfortunately something more than mere support has been sought after at various times since the classic period to which the beginnings of stays may be traced. the pair of stays which together form the modern corset--sometimes ignorantly and by false analogy supplied with an extra "s"--is what is now used for purposes of compression. proximately the idea is that of improving the figure, as it is called, and ensuring that it can be covered with garments of a fashionable shape. the ultimate results are about as bad as they can be, and it is not a question of opinion in this case, for the evil effects can be easily demonstrated. sir william flower[ ] refers to the practice as being "one of the most remarkable of all the artificial deformities produced by adherents to a conventional standard, in defiance of the dictates of nature and of reason." he points out that in the process of deforming the skull, to which we shall allude later, the latter being a solid case with tolerably uniform walls, its capacity remains the same whatever alterations may be made in the shape, but in the case of the body it is quite another matter. it can, in fact, be well likened to a cylinder of fixed length which is closed above and below by a framework of bone, and circular compression must actually diminish the area which has to be occupied by some of the most vital organs. he goes on to say that the framework of the chest is a most admirable and complex arrangement of numerous pieces of solid bone and elastic cartilage joined together in such a manner as to allow of expansion and contraction for the purposes of respiration--expansion and contraction which, if a function so essential to the preservation of life and health is to be performed in an efficient manner, should be perfectly free and capable of variation under different circumstances. so, indeed, it has been allowed to be in all parts of the world and in all ages with one exception. it was reserved for mediæval civilized europe to have invented the system of squeezing together, rendering immobile, and actually deforming the most important part of the human frame; and the custom has been handed down to, and flourishes in, our day, notwithstanding all our professed admiration for the models of classical antiquity, and our awakened attention to the laws of health. the crusade against corsets is by no means confined to this country; even the educational authorities in america and on the continent of europe have dealt pretty drastically with the matter. it is said, moreover, that the queen of portugal has brought before the ladies of her court the evils of tight lacing, by means of radiographs. there have been other times when even laws have been made with regard to the corset, which, it appears, was first employed for a wrong purpose in mediæval times. it is said of the time of henry iii of france that the corset was no longer the simple basquine that was inoffensive enough at first.[ ] the corps piqué which was endured by the fair ladies of the period was an instrument of torture. a hard solid mould into which the wearer had to be compressed, there to remain and suffer in spite of the splinters of wood that penetrated the flesh, took the skin off the waist, and made the ribs ride one over the other. montaigne and ambrose paré are witnesses, and the latter must have known something about the question. it is not, perhaps, surprising that charles ix and henry iii brought in stringent laws on the subject. we are told[ ] that with catherine de medici's ascent to the throne the habit became compulsory. she gave her subjects no choice, and said that all women of good birth and breeding should wear corsets which would reduce their waists to the abnormal size of thirteen inches. in our country on various occasions lacing was carried to extremes, as in the time of henry viii. in elizabeth's time, the forerunner of the busks was not fastened to the stays, but consisted of a piece of carved wood which was pushed down inside the bodice. (see plate xi.) some of the outer bodices in the times of the early georges seem to be as hard and unyielding as if they were intended for armour. tin stays were not unheard of in the days of the earlier colonists in america. [illustration: wooden stay busks. these incidentally show survivals of primitive ornament. _from the "reliquary," by kind permission of messrs. bembrose & sons, ltd._ _plate xi._] the craze for tight lacing once more made itself felt at the beginning of the nineteenth century, and not many years before the end one heard from time to time of the cruelty that was practised at high-class schools for young ladies, where the girls were made to sleep in specially tight and rigid corsets. although there is a tendency to abolish stays, it does not, of course, prove that on occasion they may not be of use. mr. heather bigg, the well-known surgeon, who is a specialist in cases of spinal curvature, and who adopts mechanical means of treatment,[ ] is in a position to offer an opinion on the use of corsets, as he uses special ones as precautionary means of support and where curvatures may threaten, as well as to be safeguards against relapse after the mechanical treatment of a curvature has been consummated. in one of his books he has much to offer in favour of the corset, and at the outset it may be well to say that mr. heather bigg's remarks are mainly directed against the views of the practitioner who, from the treatment that he advises, is called a gymnastic practitioner, and who, according to mr. heather bigg, goes further than attacking matters of treatment, and in order to popularize his own practice endeavours to entwine with it revolutions that shall extend even to the simplest garments. for instance, the gymnastic practitioner maintains that corsets are detrimental to health. mr. heather bigg's opinions practically are those with which most sensible people would entirely agree. the arguments which he brings forward in favour of them are not, however, very conclusive, as we hope to show. corsets, he says, are intended in their right and proper use simply to stay and support the body in its natural shape, and not to mould it into funny forms according to the vagaries of fashion. the women of classic times did not use them for this purpose. on the contrary, they had no reason to do so, as their flowing garments did not permit them to display the outlines of their figures; they therefore simply wore corsets because it had been found by centuries of experience that they were conducive to health and serviceable in exertion. his description of the original corset of greece and rome will show to what ancient form of stay the modern corset may be traced. the arrangements of the ancients consisted of three pieces, and these were worn either together or separately, as required. they consisted of supporting bands worn round the body in a way very similar to the "putties" worn for support round the legs by the present-day soldiery. the main and most useful portion of the corset was a zone, or loin band. then there was the thoracic band, or strophion, intended to uphold the breasts and conserve the figure. and, lastly, there was the waistband, which filled up the space between the other two. it is from the conjunction of these triple bands that the modern corset has been evolved, as it is worn by women of every class throughout civilized europe to-day. what was made before in three pieces is now simply manufactured in one. now let us consider the reasons given by mr. heather bigg as to why "women of all dominant and civilized races always wear, and with advantage have worn, some binder or corset"; and again, why the whole history of the world shows that extraneous support is beneficial. in the first place, mr. heather bigg says that in primitive and aboriginal races that practically wear no clothes, the girls may be perfect in form when they arrive at their full growth, but that they are, as a rule, "hideous objects of disfigurement after their first child." the inference is that civilized women retain their beauty in later life owing to the fact that they have worn stays. on the other hand, the fact that the native girls lose their beauty must, according to the argument, be because they have not worn stays; but surely this can be compared with the fading of a flower or its changing colour after fertilization, and is rather due to the absence of any conditions or kind of selection which would tend to preserve the woman's youthfulness. besides, we need go no farther than our own country to find cases where married women gradually lose their beauty, and the welsh and italian women proverbially age rapidly. the wearing of belts by navvies when they are doing heavy work is possibly a precautionary measure against strain, but it does not refer to the race as a whole, and one would take it that when it is said that elijah girt his loins in order to run before the chariot of ahab, it simply means that he fastened up his flowing garments. to the second question as to history showing that extraneous support is beneficial, mr. heather bigg says that the answer is simple even if darwinian. he may claim that the "if" saves him, though unintentionally, for in his argument he seems to ignore the main principles of evolution. he says, first of all, that it might just as well be asked why any clothing whatsoever should be found requisite by civilized mankind. he claims rightly, and so far he is in keeping with darwinism, that man, according to his obvious mechanism and morphology, is a creature built on the quadruped pattern. the word is spelt "quadrupled," though presumably this is a printer's error; but he goes on to say that this building was done with the intent that his body should be horizontal instead of vertical. of course, the body of the original quadruped was horizontal; but in the course of evolution such changes were made as enabled man to occupy an upright position. mr. heather bigg talks as if it was an intentional act on the part of man when he says that he "managed to rear himself in a permanently erect position, and as he has chosen the upright position, so he has to experience some of the penalties attached to it." the state of affairs is this: man became perfectly well fitted for an upright position, and his internal organs were arranged quite properly for progress on two legs instead of four, although mr. heather bigg claims to the contrary. what may be the case is, that natural selection no longer acts to keep man as perfectly constructed as he was, or to improve him, and some human beings may need support, owing to weakness or the undue development of their bust, just as those of us who suffer from short sight and bad teeth take advantage of eye-glasses and the skill of the dentist. we think it hardly time yet to say that all women need stays, any more than that we all need eye-glasses or should be provided with false teeth at a certain age. summing up the matter, when human beings take up work for which their bodies were not specially evolved, or when they wish to do things which at one time all human beings could do, but which, through the cessation of the action of natural selection, they are not now able to do, then they want help. this would explain why our soldiers when marching in south africa found puttees so useful, as mr. heather bigg maintains. the case of dress brought forward by mr. heather bigg is exactly a case in point. we have seen in the opening chapters of this book that man has lost his hairy covering, and, so far as cold climates are concerned, we must agree with mr. heather bigg that it has been found by experience that clothing is necessary for healthful warmth. all the same, we should like to see some experiments tried to show whether even now it might not be quite possible to exist in this climate with little or no artificial covering. we do not agree at all with the statement that as man "has reared himself from four legs on to two, so he has found by similar experience that some sort of bandaged support is required in order to assist an abdominal mechanism that is inadequate for biped progression." in order to prove that the gymnastic practitioner is wrong when he says that corsets are injurious to health, mr. heather bigg brings forward the results of experiments made by professors roy and adami, which he says scientifically prove stays to be distinctly beneficial. these experiments were described at the british association meeting in , under the title of "the physiological bearing of waist-belts and stays," and the effects of these contrivances were tried not only upon men, but upon animals. it was shown that a gentle compression of the abdomen caused a greater flow of blood to other parts of the body, and conduced in consequence to an increase of mental and muscular activity. the experimenters do not seem to have waited to see whether in the course of time these effects were or were not obtained at the expense of the digestive organs, but they concluded that they had directly explained "the beneficial and extensive use of some form or other of waist-belt by all nations that had passed beyond the stage of absolute barbarity." the theory has been advanced that stays are derived from swaddling clothes, and that the custom has survived in the case of women alone, for we may neglect the occasional use of such garments by men in the past at the present time, for, judging from advertisements in the papers, their use is not confined to the fair sex. there seems, however, little evidence in support of this theory, and inquiry from a lady who has lived a long time in palestine has elicited the information that while swaddling clothes are still in use in the holy land, stays do not form a part of native dress. the other part of the body which nowadays appears to be deformed to the greatest extent is the foot. it seems to be considered absolutely necessary, if one is to appear elegant, for one's toes to be pointed in such a way that the apex of the angle is in the middle of the foot instead of on the inner side; and although the two points are probably unconnected, we might here mention the idea that in a perfect foot the second toe ought to be longer than the great toe. this would make the extreme end of the foot a little nearer the middle line, and in art the second toe is represented as being the longest in accordance with the greek canon. these proportions were copied from the egyptian representations, and the original is probably to be found in the negroes, according to sir william flower. the latter points out that the longer our big toe is, the further we are removed from apes; and he found, too, that amongst hundreds of bare and therefore undeformed feet of children in perthshire, which he examined, he was not able to find one in which the second toe was the longest. these children would, of course, belong to the lower classes, and it would be interesting to know whether the same thing holds good in higher social circles when the foot remains normal. it may be well to remember that sir william flower was a surgeon, for mr. heather bigg, who tilts with the gymnastic practitioner once more on the subject of boots and stockings, expresses somewhat different ideas upon the question. he alludes to the two classes of people in the british isles who habitually discard boots and stockings--the fisher-folk and factory girls in some of the large scotch cities. he says that he scarcely likes to be ungallant about the latter, but commends the adult feet of both of these classes to the inspection of those who would draft their children into the "bare-footed brigade." he continues as follows: the truth is that the feet of those who have been unbooted till they have reached adult life are splayed and spread, large-jointed, and very generally deformed from all approach to the ideal foot as it is depicted by the greatest painters, or modelled by the greatest sculptors. we have seen that the ideal foot of the sculptors is probably not a true ideal from an evolutionary point of view, and there is no doubt but that the ideal foot would be the one produced under natural conditions in which we cannot include boots and stockings. we should take it, however, that the stones of the seashore and the floor of a factory are not the ideal surfaces on which to habitually tread. there is no doubt but that the deformities caused by shoes are often very great, and sir william flower sums up the matter in the following sentences:--"the english mother or nurse who thrusts the tender feet of a young child into stiff, unyielding, pointed shoes or boots, often regardless of the essential difference in form of right and left at a time when freedom is especially needed for their proper growth and development, is the exact counterpart of the chinook indian woman, applying her bandages and boards to the opposite end of her baby's body, only with considerably less excuse; for a distorted head apparently less affects health and comfort than cramped and misshapen feet, and was also esteemed of more vital importance to preferment in chinook society. any one who recollects the boots of the late lord palmerston will be reminded that a wide expanse of shoe leather is in this country, even during the prevalence of an opposite fashion, quite compatible with the attainment of the highest political and social eminence."[ ] after all, it is generally what our eyes are accustomed to that we consider to be right and fitting. the broad-toed shoes that were adopted in the reign of henry viii look clumsy to us; but so did the pneumatic tyres of bicycles after we had got used to the look of the narrow solid ones. it is not so much the wearing of boots of course, but the kind of boots that has to be considered. the high heels of shoes add to the evil effects of the pointed toes, and a copy of a drawing from an advertisement figured by sir william flower recalls strongly the stunted foot of a chinese woman which the wearer of the shoe would be one of the first probably to anathematize. this brings us to the malformation which has been caused through many centuries in a country that can claim a good deal of civilization, and is produced by special bandages after a long and very painful course of treatment. there is very little evidence of alteration in the form of the head having been practised in this country, though one or two skulls have been found, and there is a tradition that the custom prevailed not very long ago in norfolk. in france, however, it was well known until recent years, and even it may not have now become extinct. there are plenty of records in the works of early writers with regard to the practice, and some of the north-american indians still follow the fashion of their fathers. the chinook indians flatten the skull between boards so that they get the name of flat-heads, and other tribes produce an elongated skull by constructing bandages of deer hide. deformation of the head seems to have little effect on the free-living american indians, but the same statement does not hold good among europeans. according to the reports of french physicians, they have traced all kinds of troubles to the practice. if we have little evidence of head-deforming in this country by means of compression, we meet occasionally with prehistoric skulls which have been trepanned, and have had inserted into them a small piece of extraneous bone. it is curious that such an operation could have been successfully made when there were probably no instruments of metal with which it could be done, and one might well ask what object could possibly have been in view, especially as the individual so treated had met with no accident that could have rendered the operation necessary. it appears, however, that the piece of bone was probably that of some dead relative, the idea being that the incorporation of it in the head of the young man would give him the qualities of the chief who had departed. it is this notion which probably led to cannibalism. when a brave warrior was slain, his conqueror thought that by eating a small piece of him he might add his adversary's prowess to his own, and no doubt when a respected relative died it was thought that his good qualities would pass to those who ate a portion of him. besides the alterations that have been permanently made in the shape of the body, there are many curious instances where clothes themselves have been utilized for the purpose of apparently altering its shape. we have seen that punch's curious figure is due to a costume, while the stuffed breeches adopted in the reign of james i, the great farthingale of elizabeth's reign, the hooped petticoat of queen anne's, and the crinoline of the nineteenth century are instances of fashions that originated with or without apparent reasons. just as mrs. aria discovered what she terms the ancestress of the straight-fronted specialité corset on a bas-relief of a female figure from one of the mysterious forest cities in south america, so mr. rhead has reminded us of the festal dress of otaheite which captain cook figured in his "geography." our grandmothers in their crinoline may have looked like walking hay-cocks; but the young women of otaheite who carry presents from one person of rank to another look as if they were issuing from an immense drum. it is nothing new to make up deficiencies with padding that is intended to deceive, and while at one time our countrywomen may have made themselves flat-chested with the help of leaden weights, some, judging from articles which we now see displayed in the shops, are willing to call to their aid artificial contrivances which give the appearance of plumpness to their bust. when speaking of padding, one might recall the fact that the most usual place in which it is to be found--in civilians' clothes at least--is on the shoulder. this reminds us of the way in which sleeves were sometimes puffed up above the shoulder. the protuberance thus formed, dr. meyer tells us, was originally intended to prevent weapons from slipping off when they were carried over the shoulder. the fashion has since, however, been adopted in civilian costume both by men and by women. xxxvi further effects of clothes on the individual mental effects of different clothes--preferences of girls for certain articles of dress--movements that depend upon the presence or absence of clothes putting on one side the special points of detriment which clothes bring about with regard to the body, we may turn to more general effects. our language is full of proverbial sayings as to the way in which clothes may give beauty, and also as to how much we owe to fine feathers and to our tailors. quite apart from the results which clothes have upon other people, there are the mental effects which are produced on ourselves. that it is not, perhaps, comfort or discomfort altogether which causes our body to react on the mind, is shown by the results of some investigations made by dr. louis w. flaccus among the schoolgirls of new york.[ ] feelings of lightheartedness are the result of filmy clothes, and one girl of eighteen said that whenever she had on a garment of this consistency she always wanted to dance. the pleasant mental effects of gauzy stuffs and laces are said by the investigator to be due not only to their lightness, but to the mental associations with which they are connected. such dresses as those which we have mentioned suggest some gay social function. again, just as the putting on of a smoking jacket suggests relaxation to a man, so does the assuming of evening dress impart the idea that correct behaviour is necessary. heavy clothes bring about mental depression. "in a large, heavy hat my spirits are low," says one of the girls who were interrogated, and dr. flaccus claims that the mood may change with the hat, while that he has evidence to go upon will be seen from the following answers: "a broad hat makes me feel jolly"; "if my hat is flat on my forehead, i feel depressed"; "if i have a fancy hat on, i am in a coquettish mood"; or again, "i feel brighter in a hat that rolls away from my face." then the effect which certain surfaces have upon various persons has to be taken into consideration when dealing with this aspect of the subject, for clothes are made of very different materials. to touch a blanket will set some individuals' teeth on edge, and an irritable mood may result when rough material rubs against the skin. again, while one person feels chills running down her back when she touches velvet, another will delight to feel a velvety surface. another remarkable thing which dr. flaccus has brought before us is the striking difference between the preferences which girls have for certain articles of clothing. most of the girls to whom the questions were addressed put shoes first; gloves came very close, then neckwear, hats, underwear, jewellery, and ribbons; and though this may not fit in with the ideas of the humorists on the subject, the weakness for hats was shown to be less than one-third that for gloves. speaking of the effect that clothes may have upon the action of people, we may recall the way in which skirts and trousers may give rise to different habits. if one drops anything into a boy's lap he instinctively brings his knees together to prevent the object thrown from falling between them; whereas a girl would throw her thighs apart in order to make a receptacle with her frock. advantage has been taken of this fact by those who wished to discover whether a person with whom they were dealing was a woman, or a man masquerading in female attire. more than one novelist has enlarged on this theme, and mark twain has used it effectively in the "adventures of huckleberry finn." the occasion is when the hero visits mrs. judith loftus at st. petersburg, in order to find out what is going on with regard to the murder. mrs. loftus, whose suspicions were aroused, got the boy who was dressed up as a girl, to thread a needle, to throw a bit of lead at a rat, and having gained some evidence from these two experiments, she tried a third. she says, "keep your eye on the rats; you had better have the lead in your lap handy." huckleberry's story continues: "so she dropped the lump into my lap just at that moment. i clapped my legs together on it, and she went on talking, but only about a minute. then she took off the hank (he was holding some yarn), and looked me straight in the face, but very pleasant, and said: "come, now--what's your real name?" "wh-what, mum?" "what's your real name? is it bill, or tom, or bob, or what is it?" xxxvii the rise and fall of fashions reasons why fashions are followed--gay clothes seen when periods of depression are over--condemnation of fashions by the clergy--quakers--sumptuary laws--the killing of fashions the rise and fall of fashions is a matter that affects every nation and practically every individual, for savages are quite as much harassed and tortured by them as any civilized people are. fashions are perpetuated, as herbert spencer has pointed out, by imitation, and from two motives which are widely divergent. it may be prompted by reverence for the one imitated, on the one hand, or by a desire to assert equality with him. in the beginning, no doubt fashions arose with an idea to improve upon nature, though notions as to ideals of beauty must have been hazy in many cases. fashions have been advanced as evidence in support of the proverb that there is nothing new under the sun, and the way in which some of them come round again goes a very long way to prove it in the case of clothes. luckily some enormities seem to have died out, but in the light of past history we can never feel quite safe, and we never know, on the other hand, where some slight change which in itself seems novel may not lead us to ridiculous extremes. of course, many garments and styles are importations from other countries. the pelisse came from persia at the time of the crusaders, just as the kimono was brought in recent times from japan. fads and peculiarities and even deformities of royalty, as we saw in the case of the peruke, have introduced fashions. the crinoline, according to all accounts, was first devised to hide the shape of a princess. perhaps no other contrivance has brought more nuisance in its train or had more ridicule poured upon it; but it is only one instance of many fashions that have been carried to excess. it is true, as we shall have occasion to mention, that in earlier times laws were enacted to restrict the size of ruffs and the length of the toes of shoes, but often with little effect, and when shape and size did not occupy attention, the costliness of the garment caused restrictions to be made, while the clergy seem never to have ceased from inveighing against the follies of fashions. in the twelfth century the devil was represented by an old illustrator in the costume of a fine lady with the long hanging sleeves and tightly laced bodice of the time. a hundred years later english preachers took exception to laced openings through which ladies showed their costly under-linen, and dignified them with the name of "gates of hell." in the twentieth century ministers in the united states have wasted their time in scolding the lady members of their congregations for wearing fancy stockings. sometimes, on the other hand, the clergy themselves have laid themselves open to criticism with regard to the gorgeousness of their apparel. [illustration: fig. .--a merveilleuse (after a. robida).] periods of depression have been followed by fashions of the gayest. we may recall the times of charles ii, when england breathed again after the civil wars. after the french revolution, when the reign of terror was over, the merveilleuses went back to the dresses of antiquity, such as the athenian costume and that of the lacedemonian girls, whose tunics were slit down the sides from the hips. when this was not done the skirts were looped up on the left side above the knee with a cameo brooch. (see figure .) one writer records a wager in which a lady betted that her dress, including trinkets, did not weigh two pounds. she afterwards retired and took off the dress, which was weighed, and the whole costume turned the scales at a little over a pound. one of these dresses went by the name of the "female savage," and consisted of a gauze chemise over pink fleshings, with golden garters. it is not surprising that such costumes, like others before, brought down upon them the condemnation of the church, and the following "bull," dated at rome on the th october, , is reprinted from _the times_ of january th, :-- "the pope, so long engaged in reducing the gallican church within the catholic pale, has not been negligent of the duty of recalling the female form within the petticoat and the handkerchief. after speaking in appropriate terms of the present scarcity of clothing, and of the sensations it may excite even in the withered bosom of a monk, and quoting the authority of st. clement of alexandria, his holiness strictly enjoins his officers, civil and ecclesiastical, to repress, by fine or corporal punishment, according to the circumstances of the case, these crying enormities. he directs, too, that their punishment should be extended to such damsels as though at first sight they appear properly attired, are nevertheless decked in transparent robes, and with a voluptuous and magnificent attire display themselves in very seductive and tempting attitudes. moreover, fathers, husbands, heads of families, who weakly or negligently permit their wives, daughters, servants, etc., to trespass against these rules, shall not escape with impunity. also, all taylors, haberdashers, milliners and men-milliners, hairdressers, and others who contribute to these enormities of dress shall in no wise pass unpunished." the bull goes on to state that "all priests, confessors, overseers, churchwardens, and others shall in no wise admit such delinquents to the holy supper; that they shall not allow women improperly dressed to enter the church, and if they come they shall be driven out, and if they resist, the higher powers shall be required to lend their aid." it is said that a russian nobleman who was used to judge the position of ladies by the amount of furs and clothes that they wore, on seeing an english lady in a costume of the merveilleuse style offered her money in the belief that she was a beggar. fashions may have a special significance, as in the case of bell-bottom trousers of the costermonger, for it is said that by the cut of these garments the progress of the wearer's courtship can be traced. when he first "walks out," the bottoms of his trousers are of such an ample size that only the toes of his boots can be seen. as matters proceed and the wedding comes into view, the trousers assume more moderate dimensions below the knee, and when at last the man is married he is content with a bell of quite modest proportions, with what a writer in one of our comic papers describes as an almost total absence of "sauciness" in the cut of the garment. the lengths to which women will go in their desire to appear in the fashion, even if they are not, is shown by the business which a lady in new york is said to have founded. according to all accounts, she deals in nothing but discarded paris waistbands--that is to say, those which bear the names of well-known dressmakers. women in plenty in new york will buy these little strips of silk in order to have them stitched into their own dresses, to give their friends the impression that their garments were made in the french capital. laws intended for the good of trade have brought in fashions, as in the case of the statute cap. the very objections made by religious sects such as the puritans and quakers, who have departed from extravagance and superfluity, have given rise to new fashions of plainness. even quaker ladies must have shown their love of dress, for at a meeting in the following message was sent by some of the stronger-minded of them to their fellow-women:-- "as first, that immodest fashion of hooped petticoats or the imitation, either by something put into their petticoats to make them set full, or any other imitation whatever, which we take to be but a branch springing from the same corrupt root of pride. and also that none of our ffriends accustom themselves to wear their gowns with superfluous folds behind, but plain and decent, nor go without aprons, nor to wear superfluous gathers or plaits in their caps or pinners, nor to wear their heads drest high behind; neither to cut or lay their hair on their foreheads or temples. "and that ffriends be careful to avoid wearing striped shoes or red and white heeled shoes or clogs or shoes trimmed with gaudy colours. "and also that no ffriends use that irreverent practice of taking snuff or handing a snuff-box one to the other in meeting. "also that ffriends avoid the unnecessary use of fans in meeting, lest it direct the mind from the more inward and spiritual exercises which all ought to be concerned in. "and also that ffriends do not accustom themselves to go with bare breasts or bare necks." perhaps in a minor way superstitions also have tended to keep up fashions. at a wedding, for instance, it is always said that a bride should wear something old and something new, something borrowed and something blue. the enactments, however, which were directed against excess in dress do not seem to have always been so successful. the part which the law has played with regard to dress in our own country has been very considerable, and it may be of interest to consider briefly one or two of the so-called sumptuary laws. in edward iii's reign the people were ordered to dress according to their station, and those who were not of high rank were forbidden to use expensive furs and ornaments. these orders were so neglected that henry iv revised and strengthened them. slashed sleeves at the time of edward iv were prohibited to yeomen and any one below their rank. legislation was also introduced to lessen the preposterous length to which the toes of shoes had grown, for it was enacted that not even the gentlemen should have them of a greater length than two inches. the recorder of chester shows the following order made by henry viii: "to distinguish the head-dresses of married women from unmarried, no married woman to wear white or other coloured caps; and no woman to wear any hat, unless she rides or goes abroad into the country (except sick or aged persons), on pain of s. d." another law amounted to a tax on persons who dressed elegantly, for those who would not keep a horse and armour ready for the wars were fined heavily if they or their wives wore fine clothes or ornaments. it is probable, too, that henry viii's officers took care to collect the fines. mary brought in a law against the use of silk, and a little later on the great ruffs claimed attention, for in it was ordered that no more than a yard and a half of kersey should be used in making a ruff. james i repealed all the sumptuary laws, though we have seen that he and his successors occupied themselves somewhat with the dress of the clergy. in scotland, after the rising of , an act was passed forbidding the wearing of tartan as part of highland dress, under the penalty of six months' imprisonment for the first offence and transportation beyond the seas for seven years for the second. no highlander could receive the benefit of the act of indemnity without first taking the following oath: "i, a.b., do swear, and as i shall answer to god at the great day of judgement, i have not, nor shall have, in my possession any gun, sword, pistol, or arm whatsoever, and never use tartan, plaid, or any part of the highland garb; and if i do so, may i be cursed in my undertakings, family, and property,--may i never see my wife and children, father, mother, or relations,--may i be killed in battle as a coward, and lie without christian burial, in a strange land, far from the graves of my forefathers and kindred; may all this come across me if i break my oath." this severe and harsh act caused great discontent, and was repealed in . as showing the hindrances caused to trade by some of the peculiar regulations, we find that in the recorder of london describes an interview which he had with civic tailors, who were puzzled as to whether they should "line a slop hose, not cut in panes, with a lining of cotton stitched to the slop over and besydes the linen lining straight to the leg." the recorder, on considering the words of the proclamation which had caused the trouble, gave it as his opinion that they could not; but the tailors, though they went away satisfied, came back to say that their customers had gone to other tailors outside the city, who made their clothes for them in the way that was first suggested. it was this contretemps which caused the recorder to write to a higher legal authority. nowadays clothes and the law have little to do with one another, though occasionally ladies' dresses about which there is a dispute are seriously tried on in court, the legal luminaries meanwhile making a studied pretence of ignorance with regard to the garments. though there are no statutes to curb modern fashions, yet we are reminded of the rules that have had to be made in certain theatres on account of the overwhelming size of the matinée hat. although the law does not seem to have been able to change the fashions to a very great extent, they have sometimes been killed suddenly. in the days of public executions, criminals sometimes elected to wear fashionable garments, and in consequence the demand for them ceased. sometimes, again, those who were interested in the suppression of the fashion persuaded the doomed man or woman to wear a particular dress, and a judge has been known to compass the same end by ordering the hangman who officiated to deck himself in the objectionable garment. the wearing of nightgowns in the street by ladies was stopped owing to a woman being executed in her bedgown. the use of yellow starch had its death-blow when the hangman appeared in orange collar and cuffs. black satin dresses went out of fashion because mrs. manning was hung when wearing one. now, however, as there are no public executions, there is not this opportunity of getting rid of obnoxious styles, and society ought to look about for another means to repress them. xxxviii dress reform clothes to be avoided--need for warmer garments--"rational" dress for women it is evident from what we have said about the effect of clothes upon the body, that there is ample opportunity for improvement in our costume as regards its shape and the methods in which it is worn. we have already said also, when speaking of colour, that, in the case of men at any rate, it might often be more picturesque and brighter. there are several societies whose aim it is to bring about improvements. the rational dress league has general objects in view, and it also keeps in mind the special one of introducing bifurcated garments for women. there is also the healthy and artistic dress union which seems to have general objects. education is needed in order that knowledge of the evil results of wrongly shaped shoes and tight stays may be known, and what is more, such training as will enable that strength of mind to be acquired which will prevent the coming generation from being swayed by foolish fashions. the origin of these it is difficult to trace, but the pioneers of them, whether self-centred costumiers or willing victims, ought to be punished in some way. there are points to be borne in mind in connection with garments which have not yet been considered, and they cause otherwise unoffending clothes to do harm. there is no doubt but that the weight of one's dress should be suspended from the shoulders, though the great majority of women hang much of their clothes from their waists. a good deal of the weight could easily be taken off this part of the body by the fastening of skirts and under garments to bodices, or by the use of shoulder-straps and the introduction of tunics. dr. cantlie[ ] has very graphically shown the common features of a modern family, and he has given a picture (see figure ) of a group consisting of the average-sized mother, the taller and larger-framed daughter, and the insufficiently clad boy of poor physique. this author says that the sailor suit worn at the age of two and a half or three years is a recent innovation, and the rather puny young boy of to-day came in with the change. dr. cantlie has estimated that, except in very hot weather, children should have a pound of clothing for every stone they weigh, for the one great secret of rendering children healthy is to keep them warm. as a matter of fact, a girl that weighs three stone really wears clothes that weigh three pounds; but one of the small boys of the same weight, in a sailor suit, wears clothes that only weigh about half as much as his sister's. dr. cantlie also objects to short jackets which do not cover the loins, and says that the public school that will introduce the norfolk jacket in the place of the eton will thrive at the expense of its neighbours. high collars worn by youths keep the head at the wrong angle, and also perpetuate the deformity of the jaw which is caused by breathing through the mouth. they also prevent the shoulders from being squared in the attempt to get rid of round shoulders. dr. cantlie urges a return to the brace worn by our fathers, and still occasionally seen, in which the straps are not united. it is impossible for any one wearing joined braces to stand erect with the shoulders squared, for they press on the neck and cause the wearer to poke his head forward. dr. cantlie, however, hopes that the difficulties in the way of obtaining separate braces will not lead to the adoption of the elastic belt, for the only place where this could be worn without bad effects is below the haunch bones, and in ordinary dress this would bring it below the waistcoat. it will be found also that the use of belts by labourers brings evils in its train which were not mentioned by mr. heather bigg, when speaking of the advantages of girding up the loins. (see page .) no account of dress and its developments would be complete without a reference to mrs. bloomer and the garments which now bear her name, and are emblematical of rational costume. that women have no absolute claim to petticoats as their own special dress has been made quite clear, and it is equally evident that in many places they wear trousers as a matter of course. still, in this country there seems to be a rooted objection on the part of the majority to doffing skirts, though this seems, however, to be growing less day by day, in spite of the many reasons which cause the fair sex to cling to petticoats. as we have found before, garments which fall to the ground give dignity, and women sacrifice their dignity with difficulty. yet, as need hardly be pointed out, men do not wear dressing-gowns when they are jumping, nor fur-trimmed mantles when they go to business. dresses with trains could be kept for ceremonial occasions, or when there is nothing much to be done, or again, we might add, when there is little dust to be raised. [illustration: fig. .--a modern family, consisting of the average-sized mother, the taller daughter, and the puny boy (from a drawing by miss audrey watson in "physical efficiency," by dr. cantlie, by kind permission of messrs. putnam's sons).] bacteriology has shown us that the long skirt disseminates germs as it trails along the ground; in fact, it stirs them up for other people to breathe, and the culprit herself carries off as her fair share a large quantity which settles on her dress. in this way the germs of disease are carried home to the dwelling-house. in these days also, when women even jump on and off motor omnibuses before they are at a stand-still, it is evident that long frocks are objectionable and dangerous. when lady gardeners were first employed at kew gardens, it was found that their skirts got in the way, and were liable to damage the plants. the director ordered that the girls should wear a suitable costume, and they adopted divided garments, though it must be said that they covered them to some extent with an apron. in riding-dress of course ladies wear trousers under their habits when they use a side saddle, although it has been considered right of recent years for them to ride astride, and from time to time we hear that it is being done. in the time of stephen and of edward iii women rode astride, and the ladies in mexico and other parts of america regularly do so at the present time. chaucer described "the wife of bath" as wearing "on her feet a paire of spurries sharpe." from this we may judge that she also adopted a cross saddle, and as a matter of fact in the elesmere mss. we find a picture of her, showing that she rode astride, and was dressed in a curious garment like a divided bag. on the continent, ladies who go shooting very often dress like their husbands, and a year or two ago the american newspapers were full of accounts of a lady who imitated the riding costume of a hunting man to the smallest detail. apropos of this, _the field_[ ] told an amusing story of an english lady who in a measure unintentionally forestalled our american cousins, for after she had had the best part of her habit carried away by some aggressive brambles, she was seen scudding after her horse in a pair of real top boots. divided garments only appear unfeminine because we are unaccustomed to see them on ladies, and it is no secret that they are worn to a very great extent under skirts. doubtless there may be some to whom the very idea of such a thing is abhorrent, and possibly there are still wardrobes like those of a good lady mentioned by miss alice morse earle[ ] in her book on the "costume of colonial times." she was the wife of a respectable and well-to-do dutch settler in the new netherlands, and her name was vrouentje ides stoffelsen, and she left behind her in , "a gold hoop ring, a silver medal and chain, and a silver undergirdle to hang keys on; a damask furred jacket, two black camlet jackets, two doublets, one iron gray, the other black; a blue, a steel-gray lined petticoat, and a black coarse camlet-lined petticoat; two black skirts, a new bodice, two white waistcoats, one of harlem stuff; a little black vest with two sleeves, a pair of damask sleeves, a reddish mourning gown, not linen; four pair pattens, one of spanish leather; a purple apron and four blue aprons, nineteen cambric caps and four linen ones; a fur cap trimmed with beaver; nine linen handkerchiefs trimmed with lace, two pair of old stockings, and three shifts. one disposed to be critical might note the somewhat scanty proportion of underclothing in this wardrobe, and as ides's husband swore 'by his manly troth' that the list of her possessions was a true and complete one, we are forced to believe that it was indeed all the underclothing she possessed." it seems, however, as we have said before, that the actual ugliness of many of the so-called bloomer costumes which were in vogue a few years ago, did much to keep back progress in the direction of their adoption. it seems as if women were frightened, as it were, to go the whole hog, and instead of wearing neat knickerbockers they had them exceedingly baggy and inelegant, or adopted a kind of hybrid costume, half bloomers and half skirt. let us see what the tendency now is with regard to a rational dress for women. mrs. bloomer had a skirt just below the knees, and trousers gathered in at the ankles. the modern bloomers come only to the knee, but really, as dr. bernard o'connor says when writing in the gazette published by the rational dress league,[ ] "they are made too full." dr. o'connor recommends for active exercise, such as cycling, something like a sailor's jacket and sailor's trousers, but the latter should end and be gathered in at the knees. in addition there should be long tight stockings, and dr. o'connor adds that tights throughout would be preferable to the ordinary bloomers. it would seem, however, that this dress for general use might be improved as regards both form and elegance, and that a long coat or tunic, reaching nearly to the knees, with fairly tight knickerbockers, is the rational dress that is most to be commended for women. conclusion by way of ending, we would again point out that the account which we have given of survivals in dress and their history, shows that they in their development are governed by the same laws as those which act on the bodies and organs of living creatures, and we hope that what we have gathered together may be taken as a small contribution to "the proper study of mankind," which we have been told times out of number is nothing more nor less than "man." bibliography the small numbers given in the text correspond with those printed here. no. page . "the origin of species," by charles darwin. (first edition published ) . "development in dress," by george h. darwin. _macmillan's magazine_, september, , page . "_pithecanthropus erectus_, eine menschenaehnliche uebergangsform aus java," by eug. dubois, batavia, . "journal during the voyage of h.m.s. beagle," by charles darwin. minerva library, , page . "the industrial arts of denmark," by j. j. a. worsaae. , page . see number , page . notice of lecture given by mr. allan poe newcombe, in the sandwich islands. quoted from the _honolulu commercial advertiser_ in _the english mechanic_, no. . see number . "the human beast of burden," by otis t. mason. smithsonian report of the united states national museum, , page . "anthropology," by edward b. tylor. , page . "the british lake dwellings near glastonbury." , page .} "the gem cutter's craft," by leopold claremont. , .} pages and .} "some suggestions as to the origin of the penannular .} brooch," by edward lovett. _the reliquary_, vol. x, , page . "races of man," by oscar peschel. english translation, , page . "the cyclopædia of the british costumes, from the metropolitan repository of fashions." , page . a letter in _the morning post_ of november th, , from messrs. andré & co. . "english costume," painted and described by dion clayton calthrop. , page . article on "cockades" in _the sketch_ for march th, . see number . "costume from monumental brasses," by herbert druitt. . "rational dress _v._ industrialism," _the rational dress gazette_, no. , by dr. alice vickery, page . "shoe-throwing at weddings," by james e. crombie, _folk lore_, vol. vi ( ), page . "ecclesiastical vestments, their development and history," by r. a. s. macalister. , page . "vestiarium christianium: the origin and gradual development of the dress of the holy ministry in the church," by the rev. wharton d. marriott. , page . see number , page . a letter in _the guardian_, by g. c. coulton, august, . paedag. lib. iii., page . see number , page . "college caps and doctors' hats," by professor e. c. clark. _archæological journal_, vol. lxi. , page . see number , page . "the sacring of the english kings," by j. wickham legg. _archæological journal_, vol. xli. , page . "history of the king's body guard of the yeomen of the guard," by colonel sir reginald hennell. , plate facing page {"uniforms of our fighting forces, regimental survivals .{ and peculiarities," by r. caton woodville. _cassell's .{ magazine_, , page ; and "peculiarities of british { army dress," by walter wood. _pall mall magazine_, vol. { xi. , page . "yester year," by a. robida, english translation, page . a lecture given by mr. george heppel before the hammersmith literary and scientific society . "naples in ," by eustace neville rolffe . "notes by a naturalist on h.m.s. challenger," by professor moseley . see number , page . "costume in england," by f. w. fairholt. revised edition, , vol. ii, page . "the whole stock of a coquette," by helen c. gordon. _english illustrated magazine_, february, , page . "costume: fanciful, historical, and theatrical," by mrs. aria. , page . "curiosities of literature," by disraeli. vol. i, page . see number , page . see number , page . "suggested moorish origin of certain amulets in use in great britain," by dr. plowright. _the reliquary,_ vol. xii, , page . "horse brasses," by lina eckenstein. _the reliquary,_ vol. xii, , page . "animal artisans," by c. j. cornish. , page . article by mr. yoxall in _the journal of gipsy lore_, new series, vol. i, part i, . article by mr. j. chevasse. _evening news_, april th, . article in _the daily mail_, september th, . "essays on museums and other subjects connected with natural history," by sir william flower. , page . see number , page . "the history of the corset," by geraldine vane and f. glen walker. _lady's realm_ summer number, . "spinal curvatures," by heather bigg. . see number , page . article in _the morning leader_ of april th, . "physical efficiency," by james cantlie. . leaderette in _the field_, august th, , page . "costume of colonial times," by alice morse earle, page . "why won't they alter it?" by bernard o'connor, _rational dress gazette_, no. , page index note.--_the numbers in heavy type refer to the pages on which figures will be found._ abbesses, costume of, abergavenny, the marquis of, wears badges, academical dress, -- hoods, achievements, styles of, acrobat, dress of, -- tights of, -- trunk hose of, admiral, uniform of, worn by coxswains at eton on the fourth of june, africa, the west coast of, little clothing worn on, aggries, agilbert, bishop of paris, ring of, aiglets, aiguillettes, , = = -- mr. caton woodville on, -- of aides-de-camp, -- -- footmen, , = =, -- -- household cavalry, -- -- a knight of the bath, -- -- -- knight of st. michael and st. george, ailette, albe, , -- of james ii, -- originally a secular garment, -- replaced by surplice, alhambra, almshouses, costumes of, almuce, , -- forerunner of the tippet, ambassadors, cockade of danish, -- -- -- english, -- -- -- foreign, -- -- -- french, american, dress of the, amethyst, supposed powers of the, amice, , amulet, arrow-head, amulets buried with the head of ancient egyptians, -- crescent-shaped, -- heart-shaped, , -- worn by egyptian children, andaman islanders, painting the body among, andré, messrs., & co., on cockades, anglo-saxon, bandaged stocking of, , = = animal actors, clothes of, animals, colour of, in connection with ceremonials, -- curious variations of, produced under domestication, -- spotted when young, -- mutilation of, anklets, anne, apron of queen, -- consort of james i, glove of, , = = antiquities, museum of, copenhagen, apparel of chasuble called an orphrey, -- on albe, possibly remains of clavi, appendix, vermiform, apron, -- of barge-woman, milk-woman, and hospital nurse, -- -- bishop, a vestige of the cassock, -- -- housemaid, -- -- judy, , = = -- -- masons, -- -- nuns, -- -- queen anne, aprons, tiger skin, of leicestershire regiment, arab women, -- -- ideas of modesty, arabs use folds of robes as pockets, archers, scottish, coats of, aria, mrs., on the ancestress of the straight-fronted specialité corset, -- -- on the unwritten laws that rule the wearing of a mask, armlets conferred on soldiers, -- need for cooling, in some climates, armorial bearings on ladies' dresses, , = = armour, -- a development of dress, -- of chargers, arms, coat of, -- of england, -- -- schools and colleges, -- -- thomas à becket, = = arran murder case, arrow-head amulets, arrow-heads, flint, as pendants, arts, gown of master of, -- hood of bachelor of, atella, celebrated for italian farces, athletic clubs, parti-coloured dress of, aurelian, distribution of oraria by, austria, emperor of, austrian, dress of the, axe for killing wounded horses, ayahs, nose-rings of, babylon, finger-rings in, baby's glove without fingers, , = = bachelor of arts, hood of, badge and crest, difference between, -- broad arrow, -- of black prince, -- -- edward iii, -- -- the porters of the inner temple, badges, hereditary, -- signs derived from royal, -- regimental, , -- of gloucestershire regiment, -- -- private firemen, badges of the yeomen of the guard, , = = -- -- watermen, -- worn by the marquis of abergavenny, bag-wig, vestige of the, , = =, , = =, , = = baildon, mr. paley, on new garments put over old, -- -- -- -- the coif, baldric, -- modern use of, -- ornamented with bells, , = = ballrooms, bare necks in, band, black on arm as mourning, -- chin, , = = -- hat, bandaged stockings of anglo-saxons, bandages, leg, , = =, = = bandbox, , = = bandoleer, on baldric, bands, , = = -- of barristers, -- -- blue-coat boys, , = = -- -- choristers at jesus college, cambridge, , = = -- -- jan steen, , = = -- -- john pym, , = = -- -- milton, -- -- small boys, , = = -- -- the legal profession, -- -- winchester scholars, -- on a lady's nightgown, , = = -- worn with a black geneva gown, , bantams, booted, -- frizzled, baptism, vestments used at, barbarians wore trousers, , = = barge women, apron of, ; plate viii facing page -- -- costume of, -- -- sun-bonnet of, ; plate viii facing page barme-cloth (apron), barons of the exchequer, robes of, barristers' bands, -- gown, , = = -- wigs, basquine, baton of drum-major, -- -- field-marshal, beadle, dress of, , = = -- in punch and judy, , , = = beads as currencies, -- blue popo, worth their weight in gold, -- early used in england, -- from egypt, -- of the prehistoric egyptians, -- still fashionable, _beagle_, h.m.s., voyage of, beard of edward ii, -- -- -- iii, beards, closely shaved by normans, -- -- -- in edward iv's time, -- cut by romans, -- parted or trimmed by saxons, bedford, duchess of, riding habit of, bedgown, woman executed in a, beefeaters, cap of, bells as ornaments, derived from flowers, belt of groom, = = -- -- -- origin of, belts, dr. cantlie on the use of, -- worn by navvies, bernard, on blowing the nose on the chasuble, bhurtpore, battle of, bib, -- of infant, bibliography, - bigg, mr. heather, on the erect position of man, , -- -- -- -- -- rapid loss of beauty in native girls, -- -- -- -- -- use of stays, , billet, sign of the crooked, binder of infant, biretta, evolution of, bishop, hat of, , = = -- method of buttoning trousers, -- rochet, chimere, and lawn sleeves of, black as mourning, bloomer, mrs., , -- -- dress of, bloomers, dr. bernard o'connor on, blouse, blue, of the butcher, , blue blouse of butcher, , -- coat boys, -- -- -- bands of, , = = -- favours, boadicea, dress of, boar, wild, spotted when young, bohemians, the king of the, wore no ostrich feathers, body, clothes used to alter the shape of, boiler cleaners, combination garments of, bone inserted into prehistoric skulls, -- pin, boots, jack, -- of bridegrooms removed by brides in russia, -- ornamentation of modern, , = = -- top, , = = -- -- upper parts now immovable, , = = borough councillors, robes of, bouquets carried by coxswains on the fourth of june at eton, bows inside ladies' hats, , = = -- of silk ribbon inside hat, , = = boy catching an object in his lap, boys, blue-coat, -- colour preferences of, -- dressed as soldiers, -- petticoats of, brace in which the straps are not united, bracelets, -- need to be cooled in some climates, brandenburg, albrect von, with two palls, brandon, john, brass to, brasses, , plate iv, , = =, , = = -- chrysome, brats, breast cloth of nun, , = = -- plate of horse, amulets on, breasts, bare, in ancient egypt, = =, -- -- in korea, , = = -- -- in the time of james i, breeches, knee, -- of lord darnley, -- origin of the word, -- petticoat, of sailors, -- plush, , = = -- stuffed, -- venetian, of pantaloon, bridesmaids, origin of presents made to, by bridegroom, bristol, red maid school of, broad arrow badge, bronze age chieftains, dress of, , = = -- -- people wore deerskin cloaks retaining horns, -- pins, brooch, -- safety-pin like an etruscan, , = = -- the buckle, a, without hasp, brooches, pin ring, -- to fasten tunic, , = = buckle, bulgaria, shoe money in, burden, primitive method of carrying a, , = = busbies, caricatures of, , busby, -- development of, -- of rifle brigade, -- origin of the, sir george darwin on, , = = -- red flap on, , = = buskins, bust, padding used to improve the, butcher's blue blouse, butterman, white clothes of, button, -- covered with crape, -- mr. p. w. reynolds on the survival of a, buttonholes, exaggerated on uniforms, -- knotched, -- laced, -- on the backs of coats, , = =, , = = buttons, , -- antiquity of, -- as chronicles, -- done up differently by men and women, , = = -- horizontal row of, on sleeve, , = = -- meaningless, on ladies' dresses, -- numerous, on sleeve of undervest, ; plate iv, facing page -- of brass on dutch skeleton dress, , = = -- -- legion of honour, -- -- man's coat on right side, , = = -- -- page boys, , = = -- -- woman's coat on left side, , = = -- on coats of grenadier guards, -- -- cuffs, , = = -- -- overcoats of commissionaires, -- -- postilion's jackets, -- -- sleeves of clergy, -- -- the back of coats, , = =, = =, = =, = =, = =, = =, = =, = = -- -- the back of tramway driver's coats, , = = -- problematical, buttons replaced by knobs in the east, -- vertical row on sleeve, = = calthrop, mr., on survivals of the chaperon, -- -- -- the costume of harlequin, -- -- -- -- evolution of the cockade, -- -- -- -- origin of the cockade, camels, cowry shells on the trappings of, , = = cameron erracht tartan, -- tartan, canaries, yellow, cane of drill sergeant, canes, be-ribboned, -- tasselled, cannibalism, probable origin of, canterbury cathedral, shield, helmet, and surcoat of black prince in, , = =, = = cantlie, dr., on short jackets, -- -- -- the effect of insufficient clothing, , = = -- -- -- -- use of belts, cap, college, , , , = = -- hungarian, -- judge's sentence, -- line of lancers, -- livery, -- of beefeaters, -- -- dignity, ecclesiastical, -- -- housemaid, -- -- hungarian peasant, , = = -- -- nuns, , = =, -- -- the lancers, a polish head-dress, -- scotch, streamers of, , = = -- statute, , -- tudor flat, cape, combined with hood, = =, caps not to be worn by married women, cards, playing, show tudor dresses, carolines, haircombs of west, cases of brass for waiters' buttons, cassock, -- of benedictines, -- once generally worn, casula, forerunner of the chasuble, cater cap, cattle, hornless, cavalryman, modern, compared with cromwell's ironsides, , = = cave men, drawings of, , = =, -- -- painting of the body by, -- -- wore ornaments but no clothing, ceremony, primitive dress worn on occasions of, , chaco of highland light infantry, -- -- scottish rifles, chain mail, , , = = chains for the neck in richard ii's time, -- of mayors, origin of, chancellor of a university, robes of a, chapel keeper at wellington barracks, top hat of, chaperon, -- development of, = =, , = = -- of richard ii's time, -- survival of, -- vestige on gowns of city livery companies, -- -- -- mantles of knights, , = = chaplet of flowers used after baptism, charles i regulates clerical costume, -- ii, formation of guards by, chasuble, , = = -- casula, the forerunner of, chauffeurs' cockades, checks, chemise, -- gauze, of merveilleuses, chevasse, mr., on individuality shown by clothes, children carried on the left arm, -- dressed like their parents, -- sucking the left breast, chimere, chimpanzee, hair of, china, painted pasteboard figures burnt at funerals in, -- puppet-show in, -- the use of paint by women in, chin band, , , = = chinese women, stunted foot of, chinook indians, deforming the heads of children, chiton, choker, choristers at jesus college, cambridge, bands of, , = = chrism cloth, christians, dress of ancient, -- early, wore the same costume at worship as at home, christ's hospital, chrysalis, chrysolite as a detector of poison, chrysome, -- brasses, chulos in bull fight, red rag of, churches, gothic, compared with hennin-like head-dress, , = = clans, tartans of scotch, -- with several tartans, claremont, mr., on opals and bad luck, clark, professor e. c., on college caps, clavi, clement, st., on special dress for worship, clergy, adoption of vestments by english high church, -- black habit of, -- buttons on sleeves of, -- condemnation of dress by, -- criticized for gorgeous apparel, -- in holland, dresses of, -- wear academical hood over surplice, , cloaks, deer skin, of bronze age people, retaining horns, clock, meaning a gusset, , = = -- origin of, clocks of clowns, cloth, breast, , = = -- chrism, -- pied, -- parti-coloured, clothes, adopted for æsthetic reasons, -- -- -- reasons of coquetry, -- adoption of, for ornamentation, -- -- -- -- reasons of modesty, -- -- -- -- warmth, -- dispensed with on ceremonial occasions, -- distortions caused by, -- effect upon action, -- -- of, upon the outsider, -- everyday, worn at night, -- first worn by women, -- in their development subject to the same laws that act upon the bodies of animals, -- made from the bark of trees, -- mental effect of, -- minimum of, worn at sports, -- not necessarily worn in cold climates, -- -- worn at night, -- of animal actors, -- -- dolls, -- -- monkeys, -- -- punch, origin of, -- represented among animals, -- sunday, -- swaddling, -- the principles of evolution applied to, -- used to alter the shape of the body, -- useful characters always retained, -- why worn, -- worn at executions, become unfashionable, (see also under the headings of _costume_ and _dress_) clothing, not worn by cave men, -- preferences of girls for different articles of, , clown, -- clocks of, clowns, painting of, likened to that once in vogue in china and japan, -- paint of face of, clubbed hair, coachman, coat of, , = = -- lord mayor's, wig-bag of, , = = -- origin of dress, -- red coat of royal, -- wig of, , , = = coastguard, revers of, buttoned back, = = coat, blue in sixteenth century, -- buff, -- development of the modern, -- evolved from the shawl, -- lapels, nicks in, , = =, = = -- patched, of harlequin, -- pouter, , = = -- red, a best, -- -- origin of, -- -- survived for a long time in cornwall, -- skirts buttoned back for riding, = = -- swallow-tail, evolution of, , = = coats at harrow, -- -- westminster, -- of arms, -- -- scottish archers, coats, waterproof of, lambs, cobbett, criticisms on quakers, cock of a hat, cockade, , , = = -- black, -- bow of ribbon on, -- evolution of, , = =, = = -- for mourning, , = =, -- jagged edges of, -- material of, -- of chelsea pensioners, = =, -- -- danish ambassadors, -- -- french ambassadors, -- -- of various colours, -- regent, = =, , -- royal, , , = =, -- treble, = =, cockades, not under the jurisdiction of heralds' college or lord chamberlain, -- of foreign ambassadors, -- -- chauffeurs, -- those entitled to use, , = = -- worn by gentlemen, cocking, coffins, bronze age, coif of serjeant-at-law, -- order of the, -- vestige of, , = = coin, custom of breaking, upon engagement, coldstream regiment, motto of, collar, broad lace, at eton, -- silver worn by additional drummer, collars, high, keep the head at a wrong angle, -- metal of padaung women, = =; plate vi, facing page -- of court ushers and vergers, -- -- ladies' mantles standing up, -- -- nuns, -- worn by pet animals, _colobium sindonis_, colonial, dress of the, colour, craving for, shown by the gorgeous dress of masons, -- -- -- -- -- green scarfs of the foresters, -- -- -- -- -- pageants, -- of academical dress, colours, -- gay uniforms come under the category of courtship, -- heraldic, derived from flags, still worn, -- house, -- of ancient drawings due to caprice of artists, -- -- naval uniform, -- -- regiments, columbine, ballet dress of, comb as an ornament, , = = combs, hair, , = = -- loom, the origin of the ornamental comb, , = = combination garments of boiler cleaners, -- -- -- normans, coombe hill school, westerham, dress worn by girls at, , = = commissionaires, buttons on overcoats of, companies, livery, robes of, complexions, false, of roman ladies, convicts' dress, cope, , -- of fifteenth century, cornish, mr. c. j., on animals' clothes, corps piqué, montaigne and ambrose paré on the suffering caused by the, corroboree, paint used at a, corset, misspelling of the word, -- of greece, -- -- rome, corsets, crusade against, cosmetics used by roman ladies, costermongers, dress of, -- trousers of, show progress of wearer's courtship, costume, clerical, regulated by charles i, -- connected with religion, -- ecclesiastical, similar to civil in early times, = = -- of barge-women, -- -- the clown, elizabethan, , = = -- -- dolls, -- -- milk-women, -- -- nuns and abbesses resembled that of widows, -- -- servants', derived from that of masters, -- indicating the profession of the wearer, costumes adopted in girls' schools, -- of hospitals for pensioners, -- ugliness of bloomers, , (see also under the headings of _clothes_ and _dress_) coulton, mr. g. c., on the evolution of the maniple from a pocket-handkerchief, courier bags carried on a baldric, , = = court dress, mistakes made in, -- ushers, collars of, coventry, lady, death due to painting the face, cowboy's long hair, cows, clothing of, -- rainproof jackets of, cradle of american indian papoose, cranmer, hat of, = = crescent as an amulet among the romans, -- made by joining two boars' tusks, -- worn on a special strap by german horses, crest and badge, difference between, -- -- surcoat of henry duke of lancaster, , = = -- on helmet, -- -- signet ring, -- worn upon cap of lord mayor's postilion, , = = creel carried on a baldric, crinoline, -- devised to hide the shape of a princess, -- of the young women of otaheite, croft school, betley, dress worn by girls at, , = = crombie, mr. james, on superstitions connected with weddings, crook, shepherd's, crosier, cross of nuns, -- older than christianity, cross-belt of rifle brigade, crown, , -- bridal, -- tudor, superseded that of st. edward, , = = crusaders, cuff, turned back, , = =, = =, cuffs, -- of widow, -- white lawn, used as mourning by king's counsel, -- worn by the legal profession as part of mourning, cuirass of household troops, culloden, battle of, currencies carried on the person, -- ornaments as, cussan's "handbook of heraldry," custom of breaking a coin upon engagement, dalmatic, , , -- compared with a shirt, -- of bishop, fringes on, -- -- deacon, fringes on left side only, -- symbolism of fringes, damascus, damask takes its name from, damask takes its name from damascus, dane, dress of the, darnley, lord, breeches of, darwin, charles, on the loss of hair by man, -- -- theory of evolution, -- sir george, on buttons, -- -- -- -- evolution in dress, -- -- -- -- the origin of busbies, , = = -- -- -- -- top boots, , = = -- -- -- -- why plumes are on the left side, , = = d'aubernoun, sir john, brass of, showing chain-mail, david, shield of, dawkins, professor boyd, on the origin of the hair comb, deacons, stoles of, deaths due to painting the face, decoys, dogs dressed as duck, deformities caused by bandaging infants, demeter, denmark, dress of bronze age chieftains, , = = depression in a judge's wig, , = = diamond, supposed powers of the, diamonds, always fashionable, diaper appeared in reign of henry ii, -- derived from d'ypres, dinners, handkerchief used for wrapping, diodorus on the plaid of, distortion of the head, divorce, bedouin form of, djibah, = =, doctor in the punch and judy show, , = = -- of divinity, scarf of, -- round cap of, dogs, dress of, as duck decoys, -- hairless, dolls, clothes of, -- costume, -- in swaddling clothes, mr. edward lovett on, dolman of the hussars, = =, donkeys, cowry shells on trappings of, drawings of cave men, , = =, dress, academical, -- -- druitt on, -- bridal, -- characteristic of trades, -- children's, dr. alice vickery on, -- colour in academical, -- condemnation of, by the clergy, = = -- court, -- -- mistakes made in, -- does not usually show rank, -- dutch skeleton, , = = -- evening, black and white, -- -- suggests correct behaviour, -- highland, -- league, rational, -- monastic, -- more primitive, worn on occasions of ceremony, -- naval, supposed survivals in, -- of acrobats, -- -- ancient christians, -- -- animals, -- -- beadles, , , = = -- -- coachmen, origin of, -- -- convicts, -- -- costermongers, -- -- footmen, origin of, -- -- girls at coombe hill school, westerham, , = = -- -- -- -- the croft school, betley, , = = -- -- grooms, origin of, -- -- harlequins, -- -- heads of churches in scotland, -- -- jockeys, coloured, -- -- king's counsel, -- -- knights of st. john of jerusalem, -- -- monks, -- -- mrs. bloomer, , dress of norwegian bride, -- -- nuns, , = = -- -- particular trades, -- -- peasants, gay, -- -- punch and judy, , -- -- romans, -- -- servants, -- -- the american, -- -- -- austrian, -- -- -- colonial, -- -- -- dane, -- -- -- frenchman, -- -- -- german, -- -- -- hungarian, -- -- -- norwegian, -- -- -- spaniard, -- -- st. nicholas, -- -- soldiers previous to the restoration, -- -- yeomen of the guard, , = = -- once indicated rank, -- origin of, -- parti-coloured, came into fashion in edward ii's time, -- profession often not indicated by, -- rank indicated in certain professions by, -- rational, , -- reform, -- simplification of court, -- special, for worship, -- tax on elegant, -- to be according to station, -- ugliness of evening, -- union, healthy and artistic, -- used in special occupations, dresses, bridal, often survivals, -- special school, -- with trains to be kept for ceremonial occasions, dressing-gowns, , drops for ears, druitt, mr., on academical dress, -- -- -- boys dressed in petticoats, -- -- -- the coif, drummer, extra of third hussars, dutch settler's wife, miss alice morse earle on the dress of, -- skeleton dress, , = =, dyes for tartans obtained from native plants, eagles on coronation robe, ear drops, ears, perforated for rings, earle, miss alice morse, on the costume of the wife of a dutch settler, eckenstein, miss lina, on horse brasses, edward ii, beard of, -- iii, badge of, -- -- beard of, -- iv, beard of, closely shaven, -- vii, robes worn at the coronation of, egypt, finger rings in, egyptian graves, models of servants put into, -- pins, -- rings of blue pottery, egyptians, ancient, bury amulets with their dead, -- blackening eyelids, -- early, tattooing practised by, -- modern, tattooing practised by, -- prehistoric, beads of, elizabeth, statute cap of, -- queen, stocking of, elizabeth's coronation glove, stitching carried on to the back of, = =, -- reign, ruffs of, elsyng, brass in church at, , = = elves' arrows as pendants, elworthy, mr., on horns of honour, embroidery carried on to the backs of gloves, , = = emeralds always fashionable, epaulettes, -- worn by the gentlemen-at-arms, -- -- -- officers of the yeomen of the guard, -- -- -- the lords-lieutenant of counties, -- -- in the navy, ermine, -- bands of, indicate rank, eskimos descendants of the cave men, -- shoes, piece of old, worn by, to ensure fruitfulness, essex, fish-hooks made of thorns in, eton, gowns worn by scholars at, -- jacket, -- white tie at, etruscan brooch, safety-pin like an, , = = eutropius, st., ceremony of garters, evolution, the principles applied to clothes, ewart, sergeant, captures a french eagle, eyelashes, removal of, -- lid, blackening of, by egyptians, -- sacred on rings, -- stone or opal, -- third in slow worm, executions, clothes worn at, become unfashionable, face plate of horse, amulets on, -- sooty, of harlequin, facings, regimental, abolished in , -- why a different colour from that of the coat, fairholt on bandaged stockings, , = = -- -- the origin of the mortar-board, fans called sunshades, -- for blowing up a fire, -- origin of, farces, atella, celebrated for italian, farthingale, fashion determines the amount of the body which is to be covered, fashions due to royal peculiarities, -- gay, follow periods of depression, -- in hair arrangement, -- kept up by superstitions, -- origin of, difficult to trace, -- the killing of, favours, fawkes, guy, feathers, objections to the wearing of, -- of birds of paradise, -- -- ostriches, -- peacocks', unlucky because of eyes, -- wearing of, ficorroni, field-marshal's baton, fillet, -- forerunner of the hatband, , = = -- head, -- vestiges of, , = = finn, huckleberry, -- mrs., on bells derived from flowers, fireman, helmet of, , = = -- private, badge of, fisher folk, barefooted, fish, gold, with several tails, -- hook made of a thorn in essex, fitzroy, general, flaccus, dr. louis w., on the effect of clothes on the minds of school-girls, , -- -- -- -- -- -- preference of girls for different articles of clothing, , flags, heraldic colours of, still worn as favours, flap, red, on busby, , = = flash on court dress, , = = -- of welsh fusiliers, , = =, fleshings, pink, of merveilleuses, fleur-de-lys, , -- on braid of drummers of the guards, -- removed from royal arms, flower, sir william, on deforming of the foot, -- -- -- -- injuries caused by tight lacing, -- -- -- -- the most highly evolved foot, flowers, chaplet of, used after baptism, -- wearing of, -- worn at eton on fourth of june, -- -- by a bride, folds of robes used as pockets by arabs, foot, deforming of the, -- gear, early, -- guards, drum-major's livery cap, -- sir william flower on deforming of the, -- -- -- -- -- the most highly evolved, -- stunted, of chinese woman, -- the ideal in art, , footman, , = =, -- origin of dress, footmen, aiguillettes worn by, -- flaps of, , = = -- wig of, -- with powdered hair, fourchettes of gloves, = =, fourragère, fowls, top-knotted, fox-hunters, red coat of, frenchman, dress of, frills, fringe of a shawl, origin of, fringes, mr. macalister on symbolism of, on dalmatics, frock coat, frontal of nun, = =, fruitfulness, superstitious practices to ensure, , funerals, horse trappings still used at, -- painted pasteboard figures burnt in china at, fur, -- use of, in the army, fusiliers, welsh, flash of, , = = fylfot, ; see plate vii, fig. f, facing page gagging, art of, not modern, gaiters, garlands, wearing of, signifies virginity, garment, new, put on over old, garments, dislike of divided, -- flowing, give an elegant effect, , -- -- -- dignity, , -- long, of noah's ark figures, garter, garters as insignia, -- golden, of merveilleuses, -- of girls, annual ceremony in haute-vienne, -- ornamental, gatty, sir alfred scott, on cockades, gauntlets worn by masons, gentleman of george iii's time, , george ii's reign, coachman, coat of, , = = -- -- on naval uniform, -- iii, black coats at eton, mourning for, -- -- gentleman's dress, , -- iii's reign, the pouter coat of, german, dress of the, germs of disease disseminated by trailing skirts, giangurgolo, calabrian, , , = = gimmal rings, girdle, -- of judge, girl catching an object in her lap, girls, colour preferences of, -- in factories, barefooted, -- wearing their hair down, gladstone, mr., abolished the serjeants-at-law, gloucestershire regiment, badges of, glove of anne, consort of james i, , = = -- stitching carried on to the back of elizabeth's coronation, = =, -- -- -- down the back of, = =, gloves, , -- early, without fingers, -- embroidery carried on to the backs of, , = = -- fourchettes of, = =, -- not worn by nuns, -- points on, = =, -- with two thumbs in iceland, god, solar, of egypt, gold dust put on the head, golfers, red coat of, gordon, miss helen, on painting used in the time of queen anne, gorget the badge of an officer on duty, gorilla, hair of, gown, -- black, -- geneva, bands worn with, -- of judge, -- -- king's counsel, -- -- master of arts, -- -- oxford undergraduates, gowns, black, legal mourning for queen mary ii, -- worn by scholars at eton, greek betrothal rings, gremial, grenadier, caps of scots greys, greys, scots, grenadier guards, groom, = = -- origin of belt, -- -- -- dress, guards, drummers of, fleur-de-lys on braid of, -- formation of, by charles ii, -- grenadier, -- -- buttons on coats of, -- irish, -- life and horse, survival of cord for priming powder horn, -- scots, -- white jackets of, guignol, -- french punch, -- the name derived from giangurgolo, guild liveries, guinea, new, women wear no clothes, habit, black of clergy, habits, monastic, hackle feathers of northumberland fusiliers, hair, clubbed, -- curly, imitated, -- dedication of, -- dishevelling of, as mourning, -- down, girls wearing their, -- early man covered with, -- great value attached to a profuse head of, -- long, not necessarily effeminate, -- not correlated with cold climate, -- of women dressed differently from that of men, -- powder, -- -- coloured, -- putting up of, by girls, -- queued, -- roman modes of doing the, ; plate vii, facing page -- use of others, halberds of yeomen of the guard, handkerchief in general use in henry viii's time, -- used for wrapping up dinners, -- -- -- -- -- presents, hanover, cockade of house of, harem, harlequin, , -- coat of, worn by the lord of montbron, -- modern dress of, , = = -- origin of the character, -- patched coat of, -- shaven head of, -- sooty face of, -- wand of, harlequinade, , harlequinne, harrow, coats at, -- swallow tails at, hat band, -- -- origin of, -- cocked, development of, , = = -- cranmer's, , = = -- for hunting with lacing, , = = -- how made from a disc of material , = = -- of a bishop of the stuart period, , = = -- sailor, streamers of, , = = -- tall, used in the army, hats with the underside painted green, -- women in church without, haweis, mrs., dressing to suit her surroundings, hawaiian islands, hut of, haybands forerunners of leg bandages, head, distortion of, head-dress of french lawyer, -- -- -- henry ii's reign surviving in that of nuns, , = = -- -- shawl as a, -- -- siamese, compared with a votive spire, , = = -- shaven, of harlequin, -- shaving, -- strap, = = heads, deforming of children's, by chinook indians, hearse cloths, heart-shaped amulets, , , = = hector the horse extinct in punch and judy show, helmet of black prince, , = = -- fireman's, , = = -- plate, helmets, metal, henna used for staining fingers and toes by egyptians, henry viii's reign, handkerchief came into general use in, heppel, mr. george, on punch and judy, -- -- -- -- figures worked by wires, heraldry, handbook of, by cussan, heralds, tabards of, hereditary badges, hide, raw, shoe made of, , = = highland corps, white jackets of, -- dress, hindu ayahs, nose rings of, -- women, painting of the feet scarlet by, -- -- teeth blackened by, hodgson, miss, uses a doll to show costume, hogarth's engravings of children, holland, dress of clergy in, holy land, swaddling clothes persist in, , hood, -- academical, -- -- wearing of, by clergymen, , -- combined with cape, , = =, -- enlargement of the peak, = =, -- of a knight of the garter, , = = -- -- bachelor of arts, -- -- nuns, , = = -- -- the order of the thistle, -- -- -- -- -- st. patrick, -- -- undergraduates, liripipe of, -- peak of prolonged, to form liripipe, -- tiny, on barrister's gown, , = = horn for priming powder, survival of cords for suspending, horns of honour, horse amulets, , , = =, , = = -- clothing, -- brass, crescent shaped, derived from boar's tusks, , = = -- brasses, english, the counterpart of those shown on trajan's column, -- -- dr. plowright on the origin of some, -- -- miss lina eckenstein on, -- -- heraldic, -- identified as a corn spirit, -- trappings, -- -- still used at funerals, -- white, of hanover, horses, black, used at funerals, -- circus, -- grey, carry the kettledrums, -- hats of, -- killing of, at harvest time, -- sun-bonnets, -- white carry the kettledrums, hose, florentine, , -- tights, a survival of florentine, -- trunk, -- -- of acrobat, -- -- -- clown, -- -- -- knights, household cavalry, bandsmen's livery caps, housemaid, apron of, -- cap of, hounds, dalmatian, as carriage dogs, howard of effingham, hat of lord, hump of punch, back, , = = -- -- -- front, origin of, hungarian, dress of the, -- peasant's cap, , = = huntsman, livery cap of, hussars, -- cowry shells on trappings of horses of, , = = -- dolman of, , -- eighth, wear sword-belts over their shoulders, -- eleventh, wear ivory-hilted swords, -- fifteenth, wear austrian imperial lace, -- lacing of, -- prickers on shoulder belt of, , = = -- sling jacket of, , -- third, extra drummer of, -- uniform of, hut of hawaiian islands, iceland, glove with two thumbs, india, lotus flowers on king's mantle, symbolical of, indian army, puttees of, infant, bib of, -- binder of, infants, deformities caused by bandaging, -- powdered, -- patched, inner temple, badge of the porters of, ireland, pin-ring brooches in, irish guards, ironside of cromwell compared with a modern cavalryman, , = = italian women age rapidly, jacket, cardigan, -- eton, -- smoking, suggests relaxation, jackets, rainproof, for cows, -- white, of guards, -- -- -- highland corps, japan, use of paint by women in, japanese actors paint the face, -- children, painting the face of, -- women, teeth blackened by, on marriage, java, earliest man in, . see frontispiece jerome, st., on special dress for worship, jesson, mr. w. h., a performer of punch and judy, jesus college, cambridge, choristers' bands, , = = jewesses shave their heads, jews, -- rending their garments, -- tattooing practised by, joan the old name of judy, jockey, livery cap of, -- parti-coloured dress of, , johanna, judge, girdle of, -- gown of, -- sentence cap of, -- wig of, , , = = judith, judy, dress of, = = -- apron of, = = -- mob cap of, , = = -- once known as joan, -- origin of the name, kamarband worn by officers, kayans of borneo, clothes of bark worn by, as mourning, kefiyeh fastened with a fillet of camel's hair, kersey, kettledrums, silver, kilburn sisters, , kilt of sailors, -- short, , = = kimono brought from japan, king's counsel, dress of, -- -- gown of, -- -- white lawn cuffs used as mourning by, -- footmen, red coats of, kirkudbrightshire, pin-ring brooches of blacksmiths in, knee-breeches worn when speeches are made at eton, knickerbocker suits, jersey, knickerbockers, -- of blue-coat boys, -- a recognized feature of children's costume, knights of the garter, -- -- -- -- chaperon on robes of, -- -- st. patrick, -- -- the thistle, knobs in the east take the place of buttons, kohl, label to difference arms, , = =, labourers' method of buttoning trousers, lace, austrian imperial, worn by fifteenth hussars, lacedæmonian girls, tunics of, slit down the sides, lacerna, laces, , = = lacing inside a hat, = = -- of hussars, -- tight, banned by charles iv and henry iii, -- -- in england, -- -- made compulsory by catherine de medici, ladies, armorial bearings on dresses of, , = = -- married with flowing tresses, -- wear pyjamas, lady gardeners at kew wear trousers, lake dwellings, pins found in swiss, lamb, persian, used for making spots on miniver, lambs that supply the wool for the pallium, -- waterproof coats of, lancaster, henry duke of, crest and surcoat of, , = = lancers, lap, boys and girls catching objects in their, lawn sleeves of a bishop, laws for the good of trade, lawyer, head-dress of french, leech, caricatures the busbies of the guards, leg bandages, , = =, = = -- -- derived from haybands, -- -- of pfiferari, leggings, survival of the wearing of skins, legion of honour, buttons of, leicestershire regiment, tiger-skin aprons of, leopards on arms of england, life guards, black plumes of farriers of, -- -- -- tunics of farriers of, light infantry, duke of cornwall's puggaree of, lindley, lord, last surviving serjeant-at-law, linen, strip of, round head as mourning in egypt, -- the showing of, lion spotted when young, lions on arms of england, liripipe, = =, , = =, , -- of undergraduates' hoods, -- peak of hood prolonged to form, , = = lip plugs, liveries of the city companies, livery cap, -- -- of bandsmen of the household cavalry, -- -- -- drum-major of the foot guards, -- -- -- jockeys, -- -- -- huntsmen, -- companies, chaperon, vestige on gowns of, -- of page-boy, , = = -- -- porters, locket, loom combs, , = = lord mayor's coachman, wig-bag of, , , = = -- -- postilion, crest worn upon cap of, , = = lotus flowers symbolical of india, on edward vii's mantle, louis xvi, hair of, gave rise to wigs, louterell, sir geoffrey, figure showing armorial bearings, , = = lovett, mr. edward, on dolls in swaddling clothes, -- -- -- -- origin of pin-ring brooches, -- -- -- -- patterns derived from tattooing, lyman, dr., explanation of buttons being differently arranged on the clothes of the two sexes, macalister, mr., on fashions, -- -- -- symbolism of the fringes on dalmatics, -- -- -- the pallium, -- -- -- -- surplice, -- -- -- there being no distinctive garments for the ministers, among early christians, macphersons, tartan of the, magnin, m., on the origin of punch's hump, mail, chain, vestige of, on shoulder of imperial yeoman, , = = -- plate, malachite used for painting by prehistoric egyptians, man cook, white clothes of, -- isle of, triskele in the coat-of-arms of, -- once hairy, . frontispiece -- skin of, originally reddish, -- primitive, manche, maniple, -- once a napkin, manning, mrs., hung in a black satin dress, manservant, modern, mantle, imperial, -- of edward vii, lotus flowers on, -- -- queen victoria, roses on, mantles of ladies, collars standing up, maoris, tattooing of, mare, the last uncut ears of corn, marken, women of, floral designs on the bodice, market woman, sun-bonnet of, marines, royal, mourning of, marionettes, marriage by capture, marriott, mr., on the colour of early vestments, martingale of horse, amulets on, mask, unwritten laws that rule the wearing of, masks of the th of november a reminder of primitive face-painting, -- worn by savages, mason, mr. otis t., on pockets, masons, aprons of, -- insignia of, master, clothing of, becomes that of servant, , maud, maundy thursday, mayhew, mr. henry, on punch and judy, medical officers, volunteer, wear cocked hats, men, colour preferences of, merveilleuses, , = = mess jacket of somersetshire light infantry, meyer, dr., on the padding of sleeves above the shoulder to prevent weapons from slipping off, mice, piebald, milk-women, apron of, -- -- costume of, -- -- with yokes, milton, bands of, mimes, roman, , , mimi, miniver, -- rows of black spots on, indicate rank, mitten, open work, mittens and tattooing, mitre, -- strings of, , = = mizpah rings, mob cap worn by judy, , = = modesty a habit, -- different ideas of, in various regions, -- ideas of, arab women, molière introduces punch into _le malade imaginaire_, monk, general, monkeys, clothes of, monk, dress of, -- scapular of, -- tunic of, montbron, lord of, harlequin's coat worn by, montaigne on the sufferings caused by the corps piqué, montagu, lady mary wortley, and painting, montem at eton, moore, sir john, black worm as mourning for, mortar-board, , , , = = moseley, professor, on face-painting in china, , , ; see plate x, fig. c facing p. -- -- -- painting the body, -- -- -- the use of paint by women in japan, mosque-like turban, , = = mourning bands of barristers, -- black as, -- black band on arm for, -- -- worm for sir john moore as, -- clothes of bark worn by kayans of borneo as, -- cuffs worn by the legal profession as part of, -- dishevelling of hair as, -- for death of nelson, -- -- general wolfe, black worm as, -- of royal marines, -- purple as, -- sackcloth as, -- strip of linen round head in egypt as, -- white as, -- white lawn cuffs used by king's counsel as, -- yellow as, moustache, mules, cowry shells on trappings of, , = = mutes at children's funerals, nail, horseshoe, as part of a pin-ring brooch, nakedness, effect of, destroyed by tattooing even in europeans, napkin, , naval uniforms, navvies wear belts, neapolitan, the, as an actor, neck chains, -- -- of richard ii's time, nelson, mourning for death of, neuville, m. lemercier de, on punch's stick, newcombe, allan poe, on hats and habitations, nicks in coat lapels, , = =, = = nightcap of man, , = = -- -- woman, , = = nightcaps, elaboration of, restricted in the reign of mary, -- of tudors, -- still worn, night-dresses worn by ladies in the street in anne's reign, nightgown, the bands on a lady's, , = = night rails, nightshirt cut like a day shirt, noah's ark figures, long garments of, norman chin-band, , = = normans closely shaved their beards, -- combination garments of, -- wore trousers, northumberland fusiliers, hackle feathers of, -- -- wear roses, norwegian, dress of the, nose rings of hindu ayahs, novice, veil of, nuns, , -- aprons of, -- breast cloth of, , = = -- cap of, , = =, -- collar of, -- costume of, -- cross of, -- frontal of, = =, -- hood of, , = = -- not allowed to wear gloves, -- scapular of, -- veil of, , = = -- wear wedding-rings, nurse, hospital, uniform of, nurses, domestic, imitating hospital nurses' dress, o'connor, dr. bernard, on bloomers, -- -- -- -- woman's dress for active exercises, officers, commanding, choice of uniform, , -- non-commissioned, stripes on sleeves of, opal, supposed powers of the, opals, always fashionable, -- and bad luck, openwork mittens, -- of roman shoe, , = = -- stocking, , = = ophal, orange blossom, orang-utan, hair of, oraria, distribution of, by aurelian, orarium, , order of the coif, origin of fashions difficult to trace, -- -- mayoral chains, -- -- the clock, ornament, love of, among simple races, ornamentation of modern boots, , = = -- -- -- shoes, ornaments as currencies, -- of stone age, -- serve for identification, -- shells as, -- why they survive, -- worn even if there are little clothes, ; see plate ii, facing page orphrey, the apparel of the chasuble, ostrich feathers, oxford university, chancellor of, hanging sleeve of, , = = -- -- undergraduate's gown, overcoat, pads in hair dressing, padding, page-boy, buttons of, , = = -- -- livery of, , = = pageants, success of, a sign of the craving for colour, paint on face of clowns, -- use of, by women in japan, -- -- -- -- -- -- china, -- -- -- at a corroboree, -- -- -- in war to terrify, painted pasteboard figures burnt at funerals in china, painting, -- by native races, -- follows the bones of the body, -- of clowns likened to that once in vogue in china and japan, -- -- the body by cave men, -- practised by civilized men, -- the body among andaman islanders, -- -- -- professor moseley on, -- -- eyes, practised by the prehistoric egyptian, b.c., -- -- face to hide the ravages of time, -- -- -- -- heighten its beauty, -- -- -- deaths due to, -- -- -- of japanese children, -- -- -- -- -- actors, -- -- feet scarlet by hindu women, palettes, slate, in the form of two birds in prehistoric egypt, -- -- of the new race, pall, -- manufacture of, pallium, -- development of the, palmerston's, lord, broad-toed shoes, panache derived from the horn, pantaloon, , , , -- elizabethan costume of, , , = = pantomimes, , pantomimi, papoose, swathing of american indian, paré, ambrose, on the suffering caused by the corps piqué, paris, waistbands, trade in, discarded, parliamentary officials, wigs of, parti-coloured dress of athletic clubs, -- -- -- jockeys, patches indicating political views, -- of charles i's reign banned by the puritans, -- reappear in charles ii's reign, pattern, pine, origin of, patterns, breeches of chequered, worn by gauls and early inhabitants of england, peasant dress, slight survivals in england, ; plate vii, facing page pelisse obtained from persia, pendants, pensioners, costumes of, people, uncivilized, without pockets, persian women wear trousers, pet animals, collars worn by, perthshire, the bare feet of children in, petrie, professor, on romano-egyptian portrait models, -- -- -- buttons in egypt, -- -- -- the origin of a supposed shield-shaped ornament, petticoat at first not shaped, -- hooped, petticoats, lengthening of, -- of sailors, -- -- small boys, pfiferari, cross gartering of, -- leg bandages of, phallic worship, pig-tail, grease of, _pileus quadratus_, pillion, pin, safety, , -- -- in hat, , = = -- -- -- waistband, = =, -- -- like an etruscan brooch, , = = -- scarf, pinafore, pinafores now children's dress, pin-money, pinner, pins, bronze, -- egyptian, -- found in swiss lake dwellings, -- gold, -- made of thorns, -- of bone, -- ornamental, -- scarf, _pithecanthropus erectus_, plaid, , -- belted, -- shepherd's, plaids, plastron of hussars, plowright, dr., on the moorish origin of some horse brasses, plugs for lips, plumes, black, of farriers of life guards, -- why on left side, plush, -- breeches, , = = pocket flaps, vestiges of, , = = pockets, -- in the sleeves of a corean, -- side, -- uncivilized people without, points, -- on gloves, = =, policeman's coat, buttons on the back of, , = = -- uniform not worn by children, polly, miss, in the punch and judy show, now extinct, polypus (= the octopus) changing colour, porters, livery of, -- railway, waistcoats of, portugal, queen of, demonstrates the evils of tight-lacing by means of radiographs, postilions, buttons on jackets of, -- coats of his majesty's, -- of lord mayor, crest worn upon cap of, , = = postulant, veil of, poupée derived from pupa, pouter coat, , = = powder, -- for hair, prayer-book, first, of edward v, ornaments, rubric of, upheld by act of uniformity, -- -- second, of edward vi, -- -- vestments prescribed by the, first, of edward vi, prickers on the shoulder-belt of a hussar, , = = priest, = = profession indicated by costumes, puggaree of duke of cornwall's light infantry, pulicinella, -- means a hen chicken, -- oscan, of , = = punch, = = -- a roman mime, -- and judy, dress of, -- -- -- show, beadle of, , , = = -- -- -- -- doctor of, -- -- -- -- hector, the horse, extinct in, -- -- -- -- miss polly, now extinct in, -- back hump of, , = = -- bronze statuette with face and features of, , = = -- figures worked by wires, -- front hump of, , -- gay clothes of, in france and england, -- in religious plays, -- introduced into _le malade imaginaire_, by molière, -- origin of clothes of, -- -- --, hump of, , -- ruff of, , = = -- stick of, -- the behaviour of, changes, -- voice of, pupa, greek name for a baby in swaddling clothes, puppet derived from pupa, -- show of fourteenth century, , = = -- shows in china, puritans and quakers, fashions set by, purple as mourning, puttees, , = =, -- of indian army, pyjamas, -- worn by ladies, pym, john, bands of, , = = quakers refused to wear buttons, queued hair, quiver carried on a baldric, ra, rats, white, rank once indicated by dress, -- indicated by dress in certain professions, -- not usually shown by dress, ramillies, battle of, red cap of liberty, -- not universal in the british army, -- rag of chulos in the bull fight, -- ribbon of engaged girl, -- rose of lancaster, -- shirt of the followers of garibaldi, -- tie of platelayer, regimental badges, revers buttoned back, , = = reynolds, mr. p. w., on the survival of a button, -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- forage cords, rhead, mr., on the festal dress of otaheite, richard ii's time, chaperon of, rifle brigade, busby of, -- -- cross belt of, ring, -- for nose of hindu ayahs, -- in ireland, bearing clasped hands, -- of bishop agilbert of paris, rings, betrothal of greeks, -- -- -- romans, -- engagement, -- egyptian, of blue pottery of faïence, -- episcopal, -- finger, in babylon, -- -- -- egypt, -- for ears, -- gimmal, -- in which the stones stand for letters, -- sacred eye on, -- signet, , = = -- -- in egypt, -- -- suspended from the neck, -- used as an insignia of rank by romans, -- wedding, -- -- worn by nuns, -- why worn on third finger, robe, parliamentary, of the king, -- coronation, eagles on, robes of companies, -- -- a chancellor of a university, -- -- borough councillors, -- -- the barons of the exchequer, -- worn on state occasions, robinson, commander, on naval uniforms, robley, general, collection of maori heads, rochet, , roman betrothal rings, -- d'alexandre, ms. of, romans cut their beards, -- did not wear trousers, -- shoes of open work of, , = = -- tunic of, -- use rings as insignia of rank, roses on queen victoria's mantle, -- worn by northumberland fusiliers, -- -- -- soldiers on st. george's day, roy and adami, professors, on the beneficial use of waist belts and stays, royalty, fashions arising from deformities of, rubies always fashionable, ruff, elizabethan, of toby, -- of toby, -- worn by punch, , = = ruffles, ruffs of elizabeth's reign, , russia, boots of bridegrooms removed by brides in, sackcloth as mourning, safety-pin, , = =, = =, = =, sailor suit, sailors, european, tattooing practised by, -- kilt of, -- petticoat breeches of, -- petticoat of, -- trousers, method of buttoning, st. clement on women covering their heads in church, , -- george, cross of, -- gregory the great, costume of, , = = -- john of jerusalem, dress of knights of, -- lucia, -- nicholas, dress of, -- -- figure of, shows old dress, -- patrick, hood of the order of, sapphires always fashionable, saragossa, battle of, sashes meant to be used as slings, -- of officers, -- worn over the left shoulder by sergeants of the twenty-ninth foot, satchel carried on a baldric, savage, the female--a merveilleuse dress, savages, colour preferences of, saxons parted or trimmed their beards, -- wore trousers, , = = scapular of nuns, scaramouch, , -- a pantomimist, scarf, , -- on ladies' hats, -- pin, , scarves, sceptre, , school, blue-coat, -- bristol red-maids, -- wells grey-maids, schools, green-coat, -- grey-coat, scotland, dress of heads of churches in, scottish rifles, chaco of, scots greys, -- -- take their name from their horses, -- -- grenadier, caps of, -- guards, seal of solomon, serapis, crown of, serjeant-at-law, lord lindley, last, -- coif of, -- robes of, -- wig of, sergeants of twenty-ninth foot wear sashes over their left shoulders, servant, clothing of master becomes that of, , servants' dress, sex idea, "shabbies," shamrock, shapka, shaving carried out with flint knives or pieces of shell, -- of heads by egyptians, -- -- -- -- east end jewesses, -- -- the whole head, shawl, -- as a head-dress, -- the ancestral, -- used as kilt by danish chieftain, , = = shells as ornaments, -- cowry, on trappings of camels, , = = -- -- -- -- -- donkeys, -- -- -- -- -- hussars, , = = -- -- -- -- -- mules, , = = shepherd, plaid of, shield, -- heart-shaped, derived from a double bird, -- of black prince, , = = -- -- david, shirt front, origin of the, -- survival of the, as an outer garment, shoe made from a flat piece of hide, -- money in bulgaria, -- of raw hide, , = = shoes, broad toed, of henry viii's reign, -- gift of, by bridegroom to bride, -- high heels of, -- old, thrown at weddings, -- ornamentation of modern, -- part of wages, -- pieces of old, worn by eskimos to ensure fruitfulness, -- removed from dead bodies to lay ghosts, -- with preposterously long toes, -- thrown over the heads of the o'neils by the o'cahans, -- -- to ensure fruitfulness, shoulder knot, use of, siamese women wear trousers, ; see plate v, facing p. sicily, triskele in the coat-of-arms of, sign of the "crooked billet," signs derived from royal badges, silk, forbidden, -- stockings, , = = simkin, mr. r., explanation of the flash, sisters, lay, -- kilburn, , -- of mercy, skeleton dress, dutch, , = = "sketch, the," on cockades, skirt, long, dangerous nowadays, -- -- disseminates germs, skirts, short, a recognized feature of children's costume, -- simple, of a danish chieftainess, -- of lady gardeners damaged the plants, skull on head-dress of hussars, skulls, bone inserted into prehistoric, sleeves, costume dated by, -- detachable, of nuns, -- hanging, , = = -- hanging, of a chancellor of oxford university, = = -- slashed, prohibited, -- velvet, of a proctor, sling jacket of the hussars, = =, smock-frock, , = = socks, soldiers, armlets conferred on, -- boys dressed as, -- dress previous to the restoration, solicitor of guards, uniform of, -- -- -- cocked hat of, solomon, seal of, somersetshire light infantry, cavalry mess jacket of, soul remaining in shoes, spaniard, dress of the, spatterdashes, spencer, herbert, on fashions, spire, siamese head-dress compared with a votive, , = = sporran, = =, spur leathers, staff, cross, -- pastoral, star, statuette, bronze, of punch, , = = statute cap of elizabeth, stays, original intention of, -- professors roy and adami on the beneficial use of, -- theory that they are derived from swaddling clothes, steen, jan, bands of, , = = stick of camel driver survival of a sceptre, sticks, walking, stitching carried down the back of gloves, = =, stoat, stockings, , -- embroidered, , = = -- leather, worn by william penn, -- of cloth, -- open work, , = = -- silk, , = = -- yellow, of blue-coat boys, stocks of leather, stole, , stoles of deacons, stone age, ornaments of, stones, precious, fashions in, -- -- supposed attributes of, straps, shoulder, = =, straw wisps on horses, streamers of sailor hat, , = = -- -- scotch cap, , = = -- on barristers' gowns, -- -- hats, , = = -- -- head-dress of twelfth century, , = = strings, cap, -- on mitres, , = = stripe on trousers, vestige of a row of buttons, = =, stripes on sleeves of non-commissioned officers, stud, , = = suit, sailor, sumptuary laws, , , -- -- a hindrance to trade, -- -- usually a failure, sun-bonnet of barge women, ; see plate viii, facing p. sun-bonnets of horses, -- -- -- market-garden women, surcoat, -- of black prince, , -- -- henry duke of lancaster, , = = surgeons of the life guards wear cocked hats, superstitions keep up fashions, surplice, , , -- academical hood worn by clergy on a, -- mr. macalister on the, -- slit in front in order to go over big wigs, survivals of trade costumes (butchers), -- supposed in naval dress, suspenders, surtout, swaddling clothes still used in the holy land, -- -- theory that stays are derived from, -- -- swallow-tail coat, evolution of, , = = -- tails at harrow, swastika, , ; see plate vii, fig. f, facing p. , -- the forerunner of the cross, sword belt, not worn outside the coat, -- handle, opening for, in coat, -- in court dress, -- ivory hilted, worn by eleventh hussars, tab on soldier's coat, = =, -- -- side of coat, = =, tabards of heralds, tags, metal, , = = -- ornamental, , = = -- useless on top boots, , = = _tailor and cutter_, editor of, on clothes and nationality, talismans, wearing of, by ancient egyptians, talith, tannin preserves woven material, tapir, spotted when young, ; see frontispiece tartan, cameron, -- wearing of, forbidden, tartans, royal stuart, -- of scotch clans, -- dyes for, obtained from native plants, -- clans with several, tattooing, -- and mittens, -- destroys the effect of nakedness even in europeans, -- effect of, produced by open-work stockings and blouses, -- of the maoris, -- practised by early egyptians, -- -- -- european sailors, -- -- -- modern sailors, -- -- -- jews, -- -- -- practised by old inhabitants of this country, -- scar, as a means of recognition, tax on elegant dress, teeth blackened by hindu women, -- -- -- japanese women on marriage, thistle, hood of the order of the, thistles, tie, white at, eton, tierra del fuegians, tights, -- of acrobats, -- a survival of florentine hose, -- -- knightly orders, tippet, , tippets of doctors of divinity, scarlet, -- for ministers who are not graduates, tobit, dog in the book of, suggested by toby, toby, elizabethan ruff of, -- represented in china by a dragon, -- -- -- france by a cat, -- ruff of, -- suggests the dog in the book of tobit, toga, -- replacement of, -- when worn, toledo, fourth council of, tonsure, -- of priests, topaz as a detector of poison, "toothpick" collar of dress coat, , = = top-coat, trades, characteristic dresses of, trajan, trousers shown on the column of, tramway drivers, buttons on back of the coats of, , = = treble, cockade, large, = = trencher, , , = = triangles, mystic interlaced, trimmings of judge's gown, altered in colour by lord coleridge, triskele in the coat-of-arms of the isle of man, -- -- -- -- -- -- -- sicily, trousers, bell-bottom, -- evolution of, -- method of buttoning bishops', -- not worn by romans, -- of labourers, method of buttoning, -- -- sailors, method of buttoning, -- shown on trajan's column, -- worn by barbarians, , = = -- -- -- lady gardeners at kew, -- -- -- normans, -- -- -- saxons, , = = -- -- -- women in siam, ; see plate v, facing p. -- -- -- -- -- persia, -- -- in riding dress by ladies, trumpeters, state, uniform of, trumpington, sir richard de, brass of, showing chain mail, , = = trunk hose of clown, -- -- of knightly orders, tudor dresses, shown by playing cards, -- flat cap, tunic, , , = =, -- developed from the shawl, , = = tunic, egyptian, -- greek, , = = -- of monks, -- sleeved, -- survival of the anglo-saxon, tunica alba, tunicle, , tunics, black, of farriers of life guards, -- of anglo-saxons compared with a shirt, -- -- lacedæmonian girls slit down the side, turban like the dome of a mosque, , = = turquoises always fashionable, twenty-ninth foot, sergeants of, wear sashes over their left shoulders, twain, mark, tylor, dr., on finger-rings, -- -- -- painting in war time by civilized races, -- -- -- the tendency to give up savage ornaments, underclothes, lack of, ulster, uniforms, naval, -- of hussars, -- -- navy, date from , -- -- sergeant worn by extra drummer, -- military, regular adoption of, -- -- solicitor of guards, -- service, protectively coloured, -- gay, only used in times of peace, union jack on king's colours of coldstream guards, ushabti, models of servants put into egyptian graves, veil of a bride, -- -- novice, -- -- nun, , = = -- -- postulants, vergers, costume of, vermiform appendix, vestments, adoption of, by english high church clergy, -- baptismal, -- ecclesiastical, -- of high church clergy, coloured, adopted by, -- ornaments of, gradually acquired, -- prescribed by the first prayer book of edward vi, -- prohibited by second prayer book of edward vi, -- of presbyterian clergy, professional, -- worn at the celebration of the eucharist, = = vestige of a row of buttons, stripe on trousers, = =, -- -- the coif from wig of a sergeant-at-law, , = = vestiges, buttons on postilions, -- of the fillet, , = = -- in the animal kingdom, vickery, dr. alice, on children's dress, villiers-en-couche, battle of, voice of punch, vowesses, waist, wasp-like, wales', prince of, feathers a hereditary badge, waistbands, trade in discarded, in paris, waistbelts, professors roy and adami, on the beneficial use of, waistcoat, waiter, waiters, evening dress of, , wand of harlequin, warp, -- of hand loom, waterloo, battle of, watermen, badges of, wearing of talismans by ancient egyptians, weddings, superstitions at, weights, leaden, used by women to flatten their chests, weeds, old meaning of the word, -- widows, weft of hand loom, wells, blue schools at, welsh fusiliers, flash of, westminster, coats at, whips, fashions in, whiskers, effect of bushy, white as mourning, -- clothes of butterman, -- -- -- man cook, widows, costume of, wig of coachman, , = = -- of judge, , = = -- -- -- depression in, -- -- doctor in the punch and judy show, = = wig-bag of court dress, , = = -- remnant of, -- on liveries of servants, , = = -- of lord mayor's coachman, , , = = wigs, barristers', -- coachmen's, -- imitating curly hair, -- footmen's, -- judges, -- legal, -- of east end jewesses, -- -- egyptians, -- -- parliamentary officials, -- -- serjeants-at-law, -- value of, wilhelmstahl, battle of, william rufus, hanging sleeves of the time of, wimple, , = = -- of norman ladies, -- of the time of the plantagenets, winchester scholars, bands of, wolfe, general, black worm worn as mourning for, women, arab, -- -- ideas of modesty, -- barge, apron of, ; see plate viii, facing p. -- colour preferences of, -- covering their faces, , -- dress of, varies little, -- in church without hats, , -- -- many places wear trousers, -- married, not to wear caps, -- milk, -- -- yokes of, -- padaung, metal collars of, ; see plate vi, facing p. -- rational dress for, -- riding astride, -- the first to wear clothes, -- welsh and italian, age rapidly, wood, mr. walter, on white jackets for soldiers, woodville, mr. caton, on aiguillettes, worm, black, of east yorkshire regiment, -- -- mourning for sir john moore, -- -- of north lancashire regiment, -- -- of somersetshire light infantry, -- -- worn as mourning for general wolfe, -- slow, third eye in, wristbands, yellow as mourning, -- a favourite colour of gipsies, -- mourning colour in oriental countries, -- worn by mediæval jews, yeomen of the guard, badges of, , = =, -- -- -- -- dress of, -- -- -- -- duties of, -- -- -- -- officers, dress of, -- -- -- -- -- of, wear the uniform used in the peninsular war, -- -- -- -- original uniform of, yoke, = =, -- of milk woman, yoxall, mr., on wearing of yellow by jews, printed by william brendon and son, ltd. plymouth transcriber's note words in italics were surrounded by _underscores_ and in bold by =signs=. anchors for footnote and were added, after careful consideration where they should have been. some illustrations were slightly moved for reader convenience, but the bold numbers in the index, leading to the original pages, were not changed. in the index, errors in the alphabetical order were not corrected. also in the index, the item "moseley" seemed to contain a footnote, which has been removed because it did not refer to anything. the original said: "see plate x, fig. c ". a few punctuation errors have been corrected silently. also the following corrections were made, on page "fusillers" changed to "fusiliers" (fig. ) "sketon" changed to "skeleton" (dutch skeleton dress) "carboard" changed to "cardboard" (made of cardboard covered with cloth) "almostly" changed to "almost" (agree almost entirely with those) "mop" changed to "mob" (fig .), also in the list of illustrations "markan" changed to "marken" (the women of marken, in holland, may have) "o" changed to " " ( s. d.) "deferentiate" changed to "differentiate" (serve to differentiate the sisters) "promegranate" changed to "pomegranate" (the flowers of the pomegranate) "had" changed to "hand" (on the other hand, the fact that) "abesses" changed to "abbesses" (abbesses, costume of) "oy" changed to "by" (worn by punch). otherwise the original has been preserved, including inconsistent spelling and hyphenation. transcriber's note: note does not exist in this book. minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have been retained as printed. words printed in italics are noted with underscores: _italics_. words printed in bold are noted with tildes: ~bold~. pubs a collection of hotel, inn, and tavern signs in great britain and ireland, to which are added a few foreign cafÉ signs classified by g. a. tomlin spottiswoode, ballantyne & co. ltd. new-street square, london, e. c. _the compiler wishes to express his great thanks to miss e. p. harrison for her courtesy in allowing him to use not only the title but her large collection of names._ _he also desires to state his indebtedness to the standard work of messrs. larwood and hotten for much valuable information, and further to thank the many friends who have told him of signs both odd and otherwise._ foreword (_after a writer of_ a.d. ) i'm amused at the signs as i pass through the town, to see the odd mixtures: a magpie and crown, the whale and the crow, the razor and hen, the leg, seven stars, the scissors and pen, the axe and the bottle, the tun and the lute, the eagle and child, the shovel, the boot. contents page agricultural anatomy animals and insects arms (selected) astronomical birds botany clothing colours compounds--bells compounds--crowns compounds--curious dwelling places ecclesiastical expressions, phrases, and proverbs fish geographical golden silver house and table industry and implements military music nature nautical new numerical old, the people poetry and literature potentates railways sports, games, pastimes the most ancient inns the highest inns inns with "gallows" signs signs painted by well-known artists inns famous for architecture foreign cafÉ signs notes (_e_) _signifies licence extinct._ (*) _signifies a pictorial sign._ pubs agricultural the agricultural penrith the harvest home oakington the plough sutton, suffolk the fen plough chatteris the ploughshare beeston the plough and fleece cockfield the plough and sickle nottingham the plough and harrow cambridge the harrow langley, bucks the ploughboy lincoln the farmer's boy brickendon the jolly farmer bagshot the jolly farmers bengeo the jolly dealers rockland all saints the jolly gardener rochdale the jolly gardeners soham the market gardener barnes the yeoman poole the kentish yeoman tunbridge wells the graziers wakefield the shepherd doddinghurst the shepherd and shepherdess aldenham street the shepherd and flock farnham the shepherd and dog foxhall the quiet shepherd hollins the sheep shearers knebworth the fold gate stradsett the dog and crook braishfield the hurdle horningtoft the fleece richmond, yorks the john barleycorn coton, _note_ the barley mow witnesham, _note_ the drovers darlington the little drover bow the cowherds southampton the cow and pail ipswich the jolly waggoner ewell the jolly waggoners hersham the kentish waggoners borough the waggon wix the waggon and horses ipswich the jolly carter middleton the cart and horses shalford the cart overthrown edmonton the dray and horses tottenhill the horse and sacks harrow road the horse and dorsers city, _note_ the horse and chains bushey the horse and gear elston the horse and farrier penrith the horse and harrow west hagborne the horse and drill cirencester the haycock wansford, _note_ the hay field mile end the load of hay paddington the hay cutters oxted the hay makers chesterton the harvest man amber hill the labourers' union burton-on-trent the bushel grimstone the bushel and strike royston, _note_ the drill squirrel's heath the mill stamford the millstone stamford the wind mill bourne the water mill wivelsfield the market durham the cattle market king's lynn the drover's call gainsborough anatomy _hands._ the hand chirk the cross hands fishponds the bird in hand carlisle the bird i' th' hand scholes the book in hand mablethorpe the friend in hand hounslow the flower in hand norwich the hammer in hand brigg the hand in hand boxhill the hat in hand portsea the spear in hand norwich the sword in hand bury st. edmunds the hand and cleaver ranton the hand and crown oxford street the hand and flower addison bridge, _note_ the hand and glove windsor the hand and marigold bermondsey the hand and mace kingston-on-thames the hand and racquet whitcombe street the hand and shears cloth fair the hand and spear weybridge the hand and shuttle padiham the hand and sceptre tunbridge wells _hearts_. the bleeding heart hatton garden, _note_ the heart in hand winchester the heart and hand brighton the hearts of gold durham the hearts of oak cambridge, _note_ _bones_. the bones gate epsom, _note_ the blade bone bethnal green the whale bone hull st. peter's finger lytchett minster, _note_ _heads._ the st. andrew's head stepney the st. edmund's head ipswich the st. luke's head old street the king's head gunnerside* the queen's head brandeston the king alfred's head newington the king charles' head goring heath* the king harold's head nazeing the admiral's head bealings the nelson's head st. ives, hunts. the black's head gainsborough the negro's head cotton, _note_ the saracen's head southwell, _note_ the turk's head hasketon the barnardiston head kedington the beckford head old street the bedford head maiden lane, _note_ the burns head hull the birches' head hanley the bear's head brereton the boar's head cannon street the bull's head barnes the buffalo's head puckeridge the butler's head telegraph street the camel's head devonport the calf's head worston the duke's head walton-on-thames the druid's head kingston-on-thames the essex head essex street the friar's head ipswich the goat's head lichfield the griffin's head mears ashby the garrick head portsmouth the hind's head aldermaston the hart's head giggleswick the kemble's head longacre the lion's head ipswich the lode's head wiggenhall, _note_ the marlborough head saxtead the milton's head nottingham the maid's head norwich the maiden's head uckfield the newby head ingleton the nag's head holloway the parr's head camden town the pitt's head little stanhope street the paxton head knightsbridge the prince's head buckingham street the princess' head tenby the pope's head norwich (_e_), _note_ the rodney head mile end the ram's head longton the stag's head swalescliffe the squirrel's head romford the wilkes head st. ives, hunts, _note_ the wallace head blandford street the whitmore head hoxton animals and insects the zoological hull the dog bedfield the barking dogs tabernacle street the pointer alresford the pointers newchurch the spaniel dog new tisson street the hound stradishall the fox hound five head the greyhound richmond, surrey the greyhound pup ryde the talbot ripley, _note_ the dog and badger medmenham the dog and bull croydon the dog and fox wimbledon the horse bishop burton the arabian horse new lakenham the bleeding horse ramsbury the flying horse pitfield street the pegasus hornsey the rampant horse needham market the wild horse burnham market the sumpter horse penwortham, _note_ the pack horse staines the pack horse and talbot hammersmith the shetland pony clenchwarton (_e_) the fox and pony south cove the fox and yorkshire grey whitechapel the fox newbourne the intrepid fox soho the wheatland fox wenlock the fox under the hill denmark hill the young fox bath the fox and cubs lilley the fox's brush ropsley the cat whitecross street the civet cat kensington (_e_), _note_ the cat and lion stretton the cat and tiger sevenoaks the boar great ryborough the hampshire hog hammersmith the hog in the pound oxford street, _note_ the grunting hog st. ives, hunts, _note_ the sow and pigs thundridge the bull woodbridge* the little bull spalding the winged bull rake the bull and dog stokesley the ox lintz green the durham ox grantham, _note_ the brocklesby ox ulceby the ketton ox yarm the wild ox stockton the buffalo islington the cow and calf eastcheap the heifer norwich the airedale heifer keighley the craven heifer stainforth the wensleydale heifer west witton the zebra ipswich the giraffe kennington the unicorn richmond, yorks the lion and unicorn wellington the lion barking the lion in the wood high wycombe the ramping lion huntingdon the lion and lamb ardleigh the tiger tower dock the tigress hull the leopard ipswich the panther bethnal green the elephant pangbourne the buck reeth* the buck and dog stockport the running buck ipswich the wounded hart norwich the hart's horns knaresborough the horns kennington the stag little easton the royal stag datchet the bald faced stag finchley, _note_ the hunted stag bury st. edmunds the antelope cobham the roebuck tottenham the reindeer banbury the rabbit cambridge the hare leavesden green the lamb and hare kennington the lamb ely the wiltshire lamb southsea the ram tidworth the goat deeping st. james the royal goat bedgelert the ibex chadleworth the wolf dedworth the griffin norwich the monster pimlico the phoenix taunton the polar bear hull the grampus king's lynn the crocodile norwich the porcupine charing cross road the sea horse ipswich the squirrel wellington the otter ottershaw the beaver beverley the cockatrice norton subcourse (_e_) the essex serpent covent garden, _note_ the bee abergele the busy bee bradford the grasshopper oxted, _note_ the midge hatton arms (selected) the albert arms farnworth the aston arms market rasen the abingdon arms thame the althorpe arms warwick the ashburnham arms hastings the affleck arms dalham the anson arms south town the abergavenny arms kemp town the ailesbury arms marlborough the amhurst arms riverhead the abercorn arms stanmore the assheton arms middleton the askew arms ealing the ashley arms walton-on-thames the anstey arms poole the acland arms exeter the alford arms frithsden the arundel arms tipton the buckinghamshire arms blickling the bankes arms studland the bent arms lingfield the bedford arms watford the bancroft arms mile end the boyne arms burwarton the bridgewater arms little gaddesden* the blenheim arms ramilies street the beauchamp arms dywock the barne arms dunwich* the bedingfield arms eye* the bolton arms leyburn* the biddulph arms ledbury the barnardiston arms kedington the bristol arms shotley* the bunbury arms great barton the baker arms bayfordbury the baker's arms farnham the builders' arms walton-on-thames the butchers' arms bruisyard the boat builders' arms reading the brickmakers' arms ipswich the brushmakers' arms leeds the boilermakers' arms norwich the blacksmiths' arms north weald the bricklayers' arms hersham the brewers' arms stonham the cross keys bellerby, _note_ the carters' arms middleton the carriers' arms south marston the curriers' arms norwich the coopers' arms beachamwell the carpenters' arms windsor the cricketers' arms norwich the coachmakers' arms watford the colliers' arms rock the clothiers' arms hocksmoor the coalminers' arms swadlincote the college arms hertford heath the cavalry arms birchamcliffe the corporation arms pontefract the castle arms warwick the city arms esher the caledonian arms sunderland the county arms hounslow the cadogan arms chelsea the colville arms chelsea the caxton arms beccles the culford arms ingham the cavendish arms barrow the chandos arms edgware the clarendon arms watford the cranley arms fulham road the coburg arms esher the dundas arms kintbury the dartmouth arms kentish town the dysart arms ham the devonshire arms notting hill the durell arms fulham the drayton arms brompton the dyers' arms cannon street the druids' arms penrith the dorset arms east grinstead the derby arms sheen the dimsdale arms hertford the daniel arms truro the ellison arms jarrow the exeter arms stamford the engineers' arms swindon the floral arms slough the fullers' arms berwick the footballers' arms burnley the foresters' arms ascot the farriers' arms bunwell the farmers' arms muker the fishmongers' arms cley the factory arms berwick the foundry arms poole the fishers' arms blackburn the fanciers' arms norwich the fife arms braemar the finborough arms fulham the fitzroy arms cambridge the falkland arms newbury the fitzwilliam arms stamford the garden arms bedford the gardeners' arms haning the glovers' arms yeovil the glaziers' arms ely the gregorian arms jamaica road the golddiggers' arms peckham the gravediggers' arms uxbridge the gordon arms elgin the gladstone arms stowupland the gunter arms fulham road the grosvenor arms newmarket the haberdashers' arms pitfield street the hotpressers' arms norwich the hunters' arms middleton the hufflers' arms wilmington the hoste arms burnham market the herschel arms slough the harewood arms northallerton the hare arms stow bardolph the hoskins arms oxted the hardwicke arms arrington the havelock arms hertford heath the ince arms euxton the ivor arms brynnsadler the ipswich arms ipswich the ironmongers' arms norwich the jubilee arms islington the joiners' arms thwaite the jerningham arms shifnal the keigwin arms mousehole the kimberley arms norwich the king's arms woodbridge the lord arran's arms new bond street the lord conyers' arms wales the lord monson's arms tottenham street the lord howe's arms leicester the lord somers' arms stibbington street the lady owen's arms goswell road the leathersellers' arms watford the lovat arms beauly the lytton arms knebworth the lowther arms penrith the lincoln arms king's cross the lillie arms west brompton the leicester arms penshurst the luttrell arms dunster the lygon arms broadway the leeds arms cleethorpes the duke of leeds' arms dewsbury the lansdowne arms calne the liverpool arms norbiton the lyttleton arms hagley the montagu arms langley, bucks the montague arms blackburn the millers' arms healey the minders' arms oldham the miners' arms gunnerside (_e_) the masons' arms louth the mariners' arms king's lynn the mechanics' arms glossop the merton arms cambridge the manners' arms grantham the manvers' arms lincoln the navy arms truro the norfolk arms burwood place the norwich arms king's lynn the northumberland arms putney the needlemakers' arms ilkeston the oddfellows' arms stoke the oilmillers' arms grimsby the osney arms oxford the orleans arms esher the offord arms caledonian road the orford arms norwich the oxford arms kington the ordnance arms york road the princes' arms boxmoor the prince of wales' feathers east tuddenham the painters' arms belgrave mews the printers' arms crayford the papermakers' arms plaxtol the potters' arms poole the porters' arms high wycombe the platelayers' arms hatfield the plumbers' arms limpsfield the pencutters' arms waterloo the parker arms chorley the parkers' arms colne the portsmouth arms hurstbourne the pocock arms caledonian road the poulett arms chard the portland arms king's lynn the portman arms millbank street the queen's arms fendall street the quarryman's arms blackburn the royal arms peterborough the royal naval arms keyham the royal essex arms brentwood the rockingham arms sheffield the rutland arms newmarket the redcliffe arms fulham road the railway arms west drayton the rifle arms sudbury the rifleman's arms ely the stockton arms east hartburn the scutchers' arms long melford, _note_ the sportsman's arms menheniot the shepherds' arms cowcliffe the skinners' arms cannon street the soldiers' arms warleggan the shipwrights' arms ipswich the spinners' arms bury the stonemasons' arms devonport the shard arms kent road the stanhope arms brasted the seymour arms east knoyle the somerset arms praed street the sergison arms haywards heath the spencer arms barnes the sussex arms hammersmith the stradbroke arms darsham the tregonwell arms bournemouth the tharp arms chippenham the trevor arms knightsbridge the townsend arms hertford heath the telegraph arms putney the tailors' arms comberton the turners' arms mortimer the tanners' arms great yarmouth the thatchers' arms great warley the trinity arms norwich the unthank arms norwich the unwin arms hornsey the union arms panton street the university arms oxford the uxbridge arms burton-on-trent the victoria arms battersea the volunteer arms sunbury the volunteers' arms blackburn the verulam arms st. albans the vane arms stockton-on-tees the vernon arms southrepps the wine cooper's arms norwich the weavers' arms stoke newington the waterman's arms hersham the welldiggers' arms petworth the woodcutters' arms eastwood the woodman's arms normandy the woodman's arms newton the worsteddealers' arms oldham the wrestlers' arms newmarket the wharncliffe arms tintagel the wharton arms bedlington the windham arms norwich the wyndham arms bridgend the willoughby arms parham the wake arms epping the yarmouth arms thames street the yachtsman's arms wivenhoe the zetland arms south kensington astronomical the sun eton the rising sun datchet, _note_ the noon sun rochdale the sun rising tewkesbury the sun in wood ashmore green the sun in sands shooters hill the sun in splendour portobello road the full moon bath the half moon reeth* the moon and stars norwich the half moon and star ipswich the half moon and seven stars brentford, _note_ the star wenhaston the morning star datchet the glittering star darlington the rising star darlington the north star slough the south star yarmouth the star in east blackwall the star of india gordon road the rainbow fleet street, _note_ the eclipse pimlico the magnet addlestone the compass exeter the compasses wenhaston the rule and compasses thurleigh the square and compasses carnforth the mariner's compass king's lynn the scales cambridge birds the bird barforth the sea birds bridlington the blackbird bagnor the blackbirds hertford the bullfinch riverhead the bustard south rouceby the black cock falstone the cock epping the fighting cocks st. albans* the cock and magpie hammersmith the cock and pye ipswich the cock and pymat wittington, _note_ the choughs yeovil the crane yarmouth the cuckoo ashwell the crow st. albans the crow on gate crowborough the royston crow ware the cygnet norwich the duck in the pond stanmore the dove ipswich the doves hammersmith the eagle boston the eaglet seven sisters road the spread eagle bengeo the falcon rushmere the gull framingham pigott the hawk halesworth the sparrowhawk burnley the hen and chickens canterbury the moor cock hawes junction the moorhen littletown the magpie stonham* the magpies lincoln the nightingale canterbury the ostrich wherstead* the owl highbeach the pelican leicester the pyewipe lincoln, _note_ the pigeon spalding the plover eversley the parrot st. ives, hunts the peacock ely the peahen st. albans the pheasant great shefford the pheasant cock norwich the robin anerley the raven borden the swallow swallow street the swallows cley the stork birmingham the skylark headingley the swan fittleworth, _note_ the swan and nest wellingborough the swan with two necks lad lane, _note_ the swan with two nicks swavesey botany the garden sunderland the garden gate histon the angel gardens new catton the orchard gardens north walsham the orchard askew road the vineyard rochester the vintage wellington the nursery norwich the bower landbeach the havering bower stepney the cherry arbour sparkhill the flower of the forest blackfriars the flowers of the forest deptford the flower of kent lewisham the blossoms chester the flower pot hertford the pot of flowers stowmarket the gurnon bushes coopersale the bush farnham the elder bush soham the furze bush aldermaston the holly bush bewdley the hollies moordown the ivy bush caermarthen the may bush stowmarket (_e_) the hop bine cambridge the hop pole worcester the hop poles tewkesbury the würtemberger hop stepney, _note_ the malt and hops soham the tree bude the trees ripon the apple tree carlisle the aspen tree york town the ash ash hill the mountain ash ipswich the bay tree roman road the beech tree bromley the beechwood harrogate the birch tree coalville the box tree gravel lane the crab tree fulham, _note_ the cherry tree bromeswell the chestnut tree west wratting the chestnuts colwyn bay the cedar tree putney the cedars west kensington the cotton tree bury the elm tree oxford the elm norwich the elms estcourt road the queen's elm fulham road, _note_ the wych elm norbiton the elder tree spitalfields the fig tree peterborough the fir tree wanstead the firs malvern the holly tree southwark the laurel tree brick lane the laurels bromley the lemon tree bedfordbury the myrtle tree taunton the myrtle ipswich the mulberry tree ipswich the oak tree richmond, surrey the orange tree euston road the plane tree burnley the pound tree sparkhill the palm tree palm street the pear tree west row the sycamore tree thornsett the thorn tree derby the thorn burnley the walnut tree norwich the willow tree eton, _note_ the withy trees bambor bridge the yew tree cannock the acorn nicholas passage the oak sudbury the oak shades norwich the british oak berry brow the broad oak strelley the cuckoo oak wadderley the gospel oak kentish town the king's oak high beech the round oak padworth the royal oak epping the oak and acorn taunton the oak and ivy walmer, _note_ the oak branch warrington the olive branch inkpen the rosemary branch lewisham the barleycorn euston the barley sheaf dogdyke the oat sheaf whittlesea the sedge sheaf burnt fen the wheat sheaf ide hill the rosemary norwich the rose old bailey the blooming rose hunslet the little rose cambridge the handford rose ipswich the moss rose preston the rose bud accrington the rose in june margate the rose of kent deptford the rose of lee catford the rose and shamrock chester le street the rose and thistle burnley the rose, shamrock and thistle eton the rose and lily bermondsey the daisy knightsbridge the fleur de lis stoke under ham the fleur de lys st. albans the blooming fuchsia ipswich the heartsease norwich the honeysuckle gateshead the lily hull the pansy goodge street the primrose bishopsgate the tulip shenfield the virginia plant great dover street, _note_ the virginia planter bethnal green the water lily ipswich the woodbine south shields the clachan sherborne lane the shamrock bath the scotch thistle birkenhead the vine mile end the vine and ivy stow bardolph the ivy lincoln the ivy leaf ipswich the olive leaf ipswich the grapes rochester the bunch of grapes brompton road the artichoke farringdon street the cabbage kingsclere the cauliflower ilford the coconut kingston-on-thames the carrots hampton bishop the pineapple lambeth the rhubarb bristol clothing the plume hungerford the feathers waterloo road the plume of feathers tewin the cape billingsley the cardinal's cap norwich the cardinal's hat harleston the hat and feather downham the hat and feathers sutton st. james the cap and feathers tillingham the wig redisham the buckle seaford the buffcoat norwich the tabard turnham green, _note_ the boot great bealings, _note_ the shoe wroxall the boot and shoe march the boot and slipper benwick the bonnie cravat ashford, _note_ the leather gaiters hauxton colours _black._ the black boy alfreton, _note_ the black boys aylsham the black bell ipswich, _note_ the black bull fulham the black bear tewkesbury the black chequers norwich the black dog sunbury, _note_ the black dog and duck bury the black eagle norwich the black friar queen victoria street the black goose king's lynn the black goats lincoln the black griffin canterbury the black hart ringsend the black hatchet silchester the black horse sheen the black jack clare market, _note_ the black joke king's lynn the black lion stockton, _note_ the black prince norwich the black rabbit littlehampton the black raven bishopsgate the black swan winchester _white._ the white bear fickles hole, _note_ the white bull ribchester the white bell southery the white cottage norwich the white cross richmond, surrey the white elm monk soham the white friars norwich the white horn bow* the white horse framlingham, _note_ the great white horse ipswich, _note_ the white house faversham the white heifer scorton the white hart windsor the white lion cobham the little white lion cobham, _note_ the white lodge attleborough the white rose norwich the white raven bedford street _green._ the island green edinburgh the green bushes stockton-on-tees the green bank falmouth the green coat boy westminster the green gardens rochdale the green gate city road the green gates bethnal green the green hill histon the green hills norwich the green market penzance the green man tunstall, _note_ the green shutter sunderland the green tree darlington _blue._ the blue anchor southport the blue boy hertford the blue boar lincoln, _note_ the blue bell crookham the blue ball bruton the blue bull grantham the blue coat boy ipswich the blue cow south witham the blue dog stainby the blue eyed maid southwark the blue fox gunby the blue house sunderland the blue horse great ponton the blue last dorset street the blue lion east witton, _note_ the blue man grantham the blue pig bellerby the blue posts cork street the blue peter portsea the true blue cambridge _red._ the red bull gray's inn road the red cat norwich the red cow hammersmith the red cross crowborough the red deer hersham the red dragon kirby lonsdale, _note_ the red house caxton the red horse stratford-on-avon, _note_ the red hart march the red lion martlesham, _note_ the original red lion brentford the carved red lion essex road the red lodge scriveton the red well barnard castle _various_ the grey bull stanhope the grey eagle grey eagle street the grey friar chawton the grey friars king's lynn the grey goat penrith the grey horse west rounton the grey mare northchurch the dapple grey lower park road, _note_ the maldon grey chilton the scotch grey king's lynn the yorkshire grey piccadilly the bay horse york, _note_ the bay malton great portland street the brown cow accrington the brown jug barnard castle the brown bear barbican the dun cow old kent road the dun horse st. ives, hunts the pied bull sibsey the pied calf spalding, _note_ the pied horse finsbury the spotted cow cambridge the spotted dog willesden the spotted horse putney the chestnut horse great finborough the roan horse pollard street the sorrel horse barham, _note_ bells and compounds the bell hertford, _note_ the bow bells bow road the bells of ouseley runnymede the bell and anchor hammersmith the bell and birdcage wood street the bell and crown peterborough the bell and feathers sawbridgeworth the bell and horns brompton the bell and mackerel mile end the bell and oak peterborough the bell and swan ware crowns and compounds (_note_ ) the crown kenton the crown and anchor ipswich the crown and anvil minories the crown and angel norwich the crown and apple tree berwick street the crown and cushion eton the crown and column devonport the crown and castle orford the crown and compasses cambridge the crown and dolphin royston the crown and falcon puckeridge the crown and glove chester, _note_ the crown and grapes southwick the crown and harp cambridge the crown and hundred house munstow the crown and horns east ilsley the crown and horseshoe bristol the crown and horseshoes edmonton the crown and leek mile end the crown and liver hawarden the crown and mitre king's lynn the crown and punchbowl horningsea the crown and raven bridgnorth the crown and shears minories the crown and shuttle shoreditch the crown and stirrup lyndhurst the crown and seven stars royal mint street the crown and sugarloaf garlick hill the crown and sceptre brompton the crown and treaty house uxbridge the crown and thistle leicester, _note_ the crown and two chairmen soho the crown and woolpack stamford curious compounds the anchor and hope dartford the anchor of hope king's lynn the apple tree and mitre cursitor street the boy and barrel wakefield the barn and barrel tenbury the barrel and grapes trimdon grange the buck and bell long itchington the bird and gate uckfield the bush thrush and blackbird east peckham the black boy and still brentford the bell and bowl whaplode the boat and gun skeldyke the bull and anchor holborn the bull and bell ropemaker street the bull and butcher norwich the bull and chain lincoln the bull and gate camden town the bull and horseshoes latton the bull and last highgate the bull and mouth holborn the bull and pump shoreditch the bull and stars putney the bull and swan stamford the bull and stirrup chester the bear and bells beccles the bear and billet chester the bear and crown clare the bear and cross great kimble the bear and pole romsey the bear and ragged staff charing cross road the bear and rummer mortimer street, _note_ the cow and snuffers llandaff, _note_ the cross daggers coldaston the cross foxes boughton the castle and plough bristol the castle and ball marlborough the castle and falcon newark the castle and anchor stockton the castle and keys devonport the cat and fiddle hinton admiral, _note_ the cat and mutton london fields the cat and bagpipes east harlsey, _note_ the cat and custard pot paddlesworth, _note_ the cat and wheel bristol the cat and cage drumcondra the coach and dogs oswestry, _note_ the coach and bell romford the cock and anchor gateshead the cock and bell romford the cock and bull gadstone the cock and bottle cannon street the cock and castle mansford street the cock and flower pot st. albans the cock and hoop hampstead the cock and lion wigmore street the cock and neptune st. george street the cock and woolpack finch lane the dog and pot windsor the dog and bell stokesley the donkey and buskins layer-de-la-haye the drum and monkey wakefield the elephant and castle kennington the eagle and child alderley (_e_) the eagle and lamb ely, _note_ the eagle and wheatsheaf connaught street the fish and anchor harrington the fish and duck ely the fish and ring stepney the feathers and exchange reading the five bells and bladebone limehouse the fountain and star coleman street the french horn and half moon wandsworth the fox and anchor charterhouse street the fox and ball kentford the fox and barrel chester the fox and crown highgate the fox and french horn clerkenwell the fox and pheasant great massingham the goat and boot colchester the goat and compasses marylebone, _note_ the george and angel crowland the george and vulture george yard the george and horn kingsclere the george and devonshire chiswick the george and gate gracechurch street the george and guy brick lane the george and thirteen cantons soho, _note_ the gun and magpie edmonton the grapes and anchor liverpool the globe and engine sittingbourne the green man and black's ashbourne head and royal the green man and french horn st. martin's lane the green man and still oxford street the hare and billet blackheath the hare and bell edmonton the half moon and crown twickenham the hog and chequers huntingdon the horns and chequers limehouse the horns and horseshoes harlow the hope and anchor keighley the hat and tun hatton garden the hoop and grapes farringdon street the horse and gate fen drayton the horse and dolphin st. martin's street the horse and trumpet derby the horse and wells woodford wells the horseshoe and colt windmill hill the horseshoe and castle cooling the horseshoe and magpie great bath street the horseshoe and wheatsheaf melior street the jolly sailors and cable street little billet the key and castle norwich the kings and keys fleet street the king and tinker enfield, _note_ the king's arms and hand bermondsey the king's arms and lamb upper thames street the king's head and eight bells cheyne row the lamb and lark printing house lane the lamb and lion bath the lamb and flag batheaston, _note_ the lamb and star ditton the lion and castle norwich the lion and crown guildford the lion and fiddle hilperton* the lion and french horn pollen street the lion and snake lincoln the lion and swan congleton the lion and wheatsheaf ware the maund and bush shifnal, _note_ the mermaid and fountain lynn the mawson arms and fox chiswick and hounds the maid and magpie stepney the magpie and stump fetter lane the magpie and crown brentford the magpie and punchbowl bishopsgate the plough and sail snape the plough and shuttle marsham the plough and duck burnt fen the parrot and punchbowl aldringham the pig and whistle burnt fen, _note_ the peacock and royal boston the queen and artichoke albany street the queen's head and french horn little britain the raven and sun woolwich the rose and crown sudbury the rose and portcullis butleigh the rose and three tuns little earl street the royal oak and railway windsor the ram and magpie bethnal green the ram and teazle islington, _note_ the red lion and ball red lion street the red lion and french horn clerkenwell the red lion and key battle bridge lane the red lion and sun highgate the red lion and spread eagle whitechapel the red lion and still drury lane the still and star limehouse the ship and star sudbury the ship and castle bishopsworth the ship and horns louth the ship and shovel barking the ship and blue ball shoreditch the stork and castle stockton-on-tees the swan and castle buckingham the swan and mitre bromley the swan and bottle uxbridge the swan and pyramids finchley the swan and sugarloaf fetter lane, _note_ the serpent and eagle kinlet the stag and pheasant stamford the salmon and ball shoreditch the salmon and compasses peterborough the sun and anchor steeple the sun and thirteen cantons soho the sun and york chatham the sun and woolpack cheshunt the sun and whalebone harlow the star and garter pall mall the star and fleece kelvedon the star and anchor chelsea the star and windmill bermondsey the three pigeons and star hatfield street the thistle and crown great peter street, _note_ the talbot and falcon wakefield the white horse and cross keys goswell road the white horse and half moon borough (_e_) the woman and trumpet brigg the wheelbarrow and castle radford the wheel and compass ashley the wagon and lamb chichester the windmill and bells romford dwelling places the castle windsor the alwyne castle st. paul's road the arundel castle brighton the king arthur's castle tintagel the belinda castle hatton road the carnarvon castle chester the denbigh castle stoke-on-trent the durham castle seven sisters road the dover castle lambeth the dreghorn castle queen's crescent the dublin castle chester the dartmouth castle hammersmith the devonshire harrow road the edinburgh castle sheffield the hawarden castle gower place the job's castle norton folgate the jack straw's castle hampstead the kett's castle norwich the lambton castle herrington the norwich castle gray's inn road the pembroke castle gloucester road the raby castle wynyard terrace the rochester castle tottenham the samson's castle bermondsey the stirling castle london wall the warwick castle clacton the windsor castle victoria street the house of commons cambridge our house southport the arabian house norwich the assembly house kentish town the allsopp house baker street the bath house dean street the ball house fishtoft the bridge house eton the brookfield house cambridge the club house norwich the country house exeter the cellar house norwich the customs house king's lynn the festival house norwich the garden house hales the glass house kentish town the gate house norwich the heath house weybread the highbridge house lakenheath the halfway house staines the irish house strand the lock house ellingham the manor house datchet the market place covent garden the mansion house kennington the north country house portsmouth the punch house norwich the rye house hoddesdon the ridgeway house enfield the stone house old street the sessions house clerkenwell the summer house wolverhampton the thatched house epping the toll house coggeshall the tom brown house yarm, _note_ the trouble house tetbury, _note_ the wine house ware the warren house hertford the watch house bungay the cottage barton the cottage of content betchworth the eaton cottage norwich the fern cottage oldham the flint cottage high wycombe the handford cottage ipswich the ivy cottage maltishall the ivy cot castleford the rose cottage wendling the spring cottage walsall the swiss cottage chelsea the woodbine cottage hartley the flyman's home brighton the happy home welney the stranger's home bradfield the sailors' home kessingland the hut wisley the deer's hut bramshott the kisby's hut papworth everard the shepherd's hut eton wick the winterslow hut winterslow, _note_ the gipsy's tent hagley the jack's booth sulhamstead abbots the beehive grantham, _note_ the beehive abingdon, _note_ the falcon's nest isle of man the monkey's nest cockfield the kite's nest hereford the rest kenton the angler's rest staines the cricketer's rest norwich the drover's rest king's lynn the huntsman's rest sheffield the miner's rest long ashton the rambler's rest east dereham the shepherd's rest sowerby bridge the traveller's rest hertford the cloth hall leeds the lilliput hall jamaica road the town hall kensington the west end titchfield the mayfair brick street the chalk farm regent's park the highbury barn great cornard the lattice barn ipswich the bank norwich the bank of england paddington the bank of friendship mile end, _note_ the corn exchange norwich the crystal palace watford the guildhall gresham street the inns of court holborn the london stone cannon street the london hospital whitechapel the monument king william street the nelson monument yarmouth the nelson's monument norwich the mall woodhall the mount pleasant dawlish the obelisk harrogate the pleasant retreat walton le dale the post office reading the royal exchange middlesbrough the tower westminster bridge road the temple bar walworth the whittington stone highgate the bow bridge leicester the fulham bridge knightsbridge the london bridge borough the moorgate finsbury the storey's gate westminster the duchy princetown the cosy corner bridlington the caxton gibbet caxton the cemetery burmantofts the duke's palace norwich the windsor castle victoria the round tower windsor the savoy palace savoy street the balmoral edinburgh the hampton court palace crampton street the buckingham palace stevenage the osborne stroud green ecclesiastical the ark thetford the angel islington the angel and trumpet stepney the abbey st. john's wood the abbey in the west lincoln the cross boxted the priory pendleton the cathedral manchester the chapel coggeshall the temple roydon the chinese temple bradford the hermit bedford street the hermitage acle the hermit's cave camberwell the george and dragon wargrave the george and dragon dragon's green, _note_ the saint george and dragon snailwell the saint anne's st. anne's-on-sea the saint anne's cross faversham the saint ann's buxton the saint andrew baker street the saint bartholomew norwich the saint clement's poole the saint cuthbert's scorton the saint james new cross the saint john of jerusalem clerkenwell the saint paul chiswell street the saint petrock bodmin the simon the tanner bermondsey the rhadegund cambridge, _note_ the bel and dragon cookham the good samaritan turner street the prodigal's return battersea the adam and eve eton the rainbow and dove hertingfordbury the brazen serpent bermondsey the goliath carlisle the samson and lion coventry the leviathan watford the catherine wheel henley the york minster soho the furness abbey barrow the fountains abbey praed street the bolton abbey lonsdale road the thomas à becket old kent road the bishop bonner bethnal green the bishop blaize richmond, _note_ expressions, phrases & proverbs the great a yaxham the q stalybridge the first and last sennen the first in and last out bideford the catch all grassington the welcome all stone the welcome stranger windmill hill the why not dover the who'd a' thought it nine mile ride the who'd have thought it barking the which you please devonport the just in time hanley the god speed the plough sutton the goodwill to all pinner the friendly halifax the friendship gainsborough the unity hyde the union leicester the happy union loudwater the nowhere devonport the no place devonport, _note_ the slow and easy lostock the hit or miss keysoe the horn of plenty globe road the peace and plenty yarmouth the good intent richmond, yorks the live and let live little downham the civil usage brixham the fortune of war pie corner, _note_ the soldier's fortune kidderminster, _note_ the wheel of fortune alphington the trip to jerusalem nottingham the lame dog norwich the wait for the bus bottisham the cut the wind aberdeen the slap up landbeach the staff of life norwich the broadface reading the labour in vain old swinford, _note_ the lost child mile end the staffordshire knot smethwick the rent day cambridge street the pass by haverfordwest the none the wiser ponders end the duke's motto brick lane the catch'em swadlincote the mortal man troutbeck the smiling man dudley the naked man settle, _note_ the blindman's gate barmby the hanging gate beverley the gate hangs high hythe the gate hangs well catherton the merry month of may bushey the land of liberty herongate the ass in a bandbox nidd, _note_ the freedom of opinion ashford the magna charta new holland the constitution churton street the commonwealth caterham the coronation plymouth the diamond reign foubert's place the jubilee cambridge the diamond jubilee gaywood the alliance hampstead the correction leigh the defiance ipswich the exhibition southend the endeavour dover the enterprise long acre the gaiety colchester the metropolitan clerkenwell the moderation reading the paragon brixton the providence folkestone the perseverance norwich the success bishop's road the surprise chelsea the salutation ipswich the victory newmarket the puss in boots macclesfield the goat in boots fulham road, _note_ the dog in doublet thorney, _note_ the fox and goose fressingfield the fox and duck ham* the fox and pelican grayshott the fox and goat hersham the fox and grapes richmond the cow and hare st. ives, hunts* the farewell castleton the finish bermondsey the final king william street fish the fish crayford the fish and eels roydon the fishery boxmoor the crab shanklin the crab and lobster ventnor the lobster coatham the cod and lobster staithes the otter and fish hurworth the roach bury the dolphin norwich, _note_ the pickerel stowmarket the crawfish thursford the salmon cambridge the trout godstow the oyster butley the butt and oyster chelmondiston the eel's foot theberton the pike and eel chesterton geographical the world devonport the world's end fulham, _note_ the end of the world tilbury the world turned upside down old kent road, _note_ the globe bengeo the albion blackpool the anglesey lichfield the aberfeldy east india dock road the britannia porth the bath peckham the berkeley piccadilly the boston junction road the brighton glasshouse street the bristol cork street the canterbury norwich the clarendon hammersmith the coldstream norwich the cambridge ashton the derby burnley the dunraven bridgend the duncannon charing cross the elgin maida vale the foxhall blackpool the granby doncaster the granville corbridge the grandison briton ferry the ipswich norwich the leeds stockton the leeds and liverpool burnley the leamington acton the lincoln manchester the london stamford the leicester lounge leicester square the malvern bevington road the manchester aldersgate the magdala great yarmouth the newcastle southampton the newcastle-on-tyne lexington street the normanton clumber the oakley rushden the oxford and cambridge hammersmith the quebec thorpe the ruperra cardiff the raby stockton the sefton douglas the stockton west hartlepool the tavistock covent garden the vyne normanton the washington worcester the windsor willesden the wharfedale arthington the wellington wellington college the wynyard silksworth the york and albany regent's park the zetland saltburn the aire and calder leeds the granta cambridge the mersey widnes the medway sheerness the orwell ipswich the thames east molesey the tyne shields the witham lincoln the waveney burgh st. peter the essex norwich the holderness beverley the kent and essex gravesend the rutland newark the yorkshire burnley the west riding leeds the worcestershire droitwich the torbay rotherhithe the middevon ashbury the yeovale lapford the stanhope and tyne anfield the cheddar valley wells the thames valley maidenhead the wear valley stanhope the milford haven caledonian road the cinque ports ramsgate the east suffolk aldeburgh the east of england lowestoft the lake lothing lowestoft the sole bay southwold the grosvenor basin milton road the town of leith wapping the town of ramsgate wapping the city of canton poplar the city of carlisle royal mint street the city of gloucester chelsea (_e_) the city of hereford cleveland street the city of london soho the city of norwich spitalfields the city of new york bedford road the city of paris old ford the city of quebec oxford street the city of rome roman road the city of salisbury rodney road the scotland gomsal the john o' groats blackfriars the land's end sennen the richmond hill norwich the tan hill swaledale the mount ephraim tunbridge wells the skiddaw chippenham road the summit royton the isle of wight deptford the isle of skye wessenden head the isle of cyprus folkestone the channel islands guernsey the scarborough spa shields the europa molesey the minorca wigan the nassau dublin the oporto shaftesbury avenue the portugal fleet street the riviera maidenhead the savoy strand the smyrna sunderland the swiss soho the helvetia soho the atlantic newquay the south sea sheffield the cape of good hope albion street the columbia yarmouth the falls of niagara ryde the hercules pillars great queen street, _note_ the jamaica cornhill, _note_ the oriental ware the patna devonport the simla thornton heath the south pole bath the trafalgar remington street the alma dover the heights of alma sheerness the blenheim new bond street the bunker's hill gosport the battle of nile landport the crimea inkerman road the fort st. george cambridge the gibraltar wighton the rock of gibraltar oxford the inkerman colchester the malakoff yarmouth the navarino dalston the neville's cross kilburn the redan westbourne grove the waterloo colchester the arab boy putney the american macclesfield the australian westminster the canadian oxford street the caledonian darlington the californian belmont the hambletonian stockton the norfolk freeholders wells the parisian furnival street the spaniards hampstead the spanish patriot lambeth, _note_ the scotchman and his pack bristol, _note_ the jolly scotchman sleaford the zulu ipswich the ancient briton camden town the generous briton newark the true briton walmer the guide post ryhope the toll bar ryhope the toll gate bury the gate dunkirk the hatchgate burghfield the swing gate dover the stocks clapgate* golden (_note_ ) the golden anchor hartlepool the golden ball longton the golden bells notting hill the golden boar freckenham the golden can norwich the golden cock darlington the golden cross charing cross the golden dog shipdham the golden eagle lincoln the golden fleece stamford, _note_ the golden gallon hull the golden horse coventry the golden harp st. albans the golden heart spitalfields the golden key ipswich the golden lion leyburn, _note_ the golden last cannon street the golden rose cambridge the golden rule ambleside the golden stream norwich the golden star norwich silver the silver cup cromer street the silver lion lilley the silver oar rochester the silver tavern burdett road the silver tree devonport the silver trumpet commercial road house and table the brick and tile west bergholt the barn norwich the portcullis chipping sodbury, _note_ the lattice king's lynn the crooked chimney stow bardolph the wire trellis barnsley the coal hole leigh the dark lantern aylesbury the guinea north bruton mews the cabinet reed the key driffield the lock and key smithfield the little dustpan reading the spinning wheel hamsterley the pin cushion wyberton the cold bath hartford the gas malvern the hourglass lower thames street, _note_ the dial swanton morley the clock york the clock face burnley the coffee pot warwick lane the imperial measure hull the gallon pot yarmouth the gallon can yarmouth the quart runwell the rummer stoke holy cross, _note_ the rum puncheon whitecross street the leather bottle cobham, _note_ the flask highgate the tankard bentley the still sleaford the punchbowl low row the punchbowl and ladle peneleway the yorkshire stingo marylebone the pot and glass eaglescliffe the jug and glass etherley the bottle and glass lincoln the bottles occold the board carlisle the round table leicester square the willow pattern lincoln the pewter platter hatton garden the frying pan brick lane the mechanic's larder gray's inn the knife and steel pymoor the cow roast tring the haunch of venison bell yard the shoulder of mutton old newton the leg of mutton ashstead and cauliflower the beefsteak bath the baron of beef cambridge the round of beef ely the ribs of beef norwich, _note_ the spare rib st. ives, hunts the eel pie stow bardolph the flitch of bacon little dunmow the bubble and squeak stepney the cheddar cheese reading the cheshire cheese fleet street, _note_ the sugarloaf spitalfields the sugarloaves sible hedingham, _note_ industry and implements the commercial chelsea the treaty of commerce lincoln the industry rochdale the tontine tonbridge the colliery ryhope the furnace chesterfield the brick kilns norwich the cinder ovens norwich the tan pits church the repository leicester the brewery richmond, yorks the bun shop strand the diamond hertford the london assurance city road the foundry holbeck the woolpack penrith* the woolsack poplar the bazaar baker street the silk mills yarmouth the yarn factory norwich the reservoir bradford the shuttles norwich the fire brigade brighton the free press cambridge the free trader peckham the free trade norwich the freemasons long acre the british workman willingham the sons of commerce norwich the london apprentice isleworth, _note_ the jolly butcher knoll green the jolly butchers farnham royal the jolly brewer north end road the jolly brewers norwich the jolly coopers hampton the jolly hatters norwich the jolly maltster mortlake the jolly miller milbank street the jolly crispin boston the bold crispin ipswich the crispin and crispianus rochester, _note_ the crispin north end road the brewer and baker coventry, _note_ the baker and basket limehouse the merry carpenters old street the draymen bradford the engineer wisbech the florist stockport the foresters cambridge the experienced fowler limehouse, _note_ the butcher and beast heighington the chapman grimsby the royal foresters chavey down the fishmongers bushey the dusty miller halifax the maltsters hanworth the maltman and shovel hammersmith the malt shovels grantham the jet miners broughton the bonnie pit laddie durham the rangers east rudham the ringers shipdham the rat catcher cawston the wood man chapmore end the weaver runcorn the canterbury weavers canterbury the ambassador york road the honest lawyer king's lynn, _note_ the anvil sotherey the axe basinghall street, _note_ the axe and anvil linton the axe and saw carlton the axe and hand saw moulton the axe and compass carlton the axe and cleaver heckington the cleaver darlington the marrow bone and cleaver hull, _note_ the holy stone shiremoor the mallet and tool whitwell the bag of nails buckingham palace road, _note_ the davy lamp easington the forge hammer jarrow the steam hammer lincoln the pick and hammer carlton the trowel and hammer marks tey the hammer and smithy ossett the peat spade longstock the spade and becket little downham, _note_ the spade and sprocket stonea, _note_ the hack and spade washton the hatchet whiteparish the shears wantage, _note_ the crook and shears upper clatford the well and bucket bethnal green military the royal military aldershot the flag manningtree the flagstaff canning town the royal standard windsor the standard of england bristol the union jack roydon the union flag wivenhoe the british flag clapham the red white and blue ely the stars and stripes walthamstow the american flag king's lynn the halberd ipswich, _note_ the battle axes wraxall the gun lupus street the cross guns knarr cross the morning gun bridgwater the evening gun norwich, _note_ the gun and tent spitalfields the rifle hammersmith the cross rifles bridgwater the barrack woolwich the horse barracks norwich the british camp malvern the roman camp elmerton the fort sandown the garrison cork the battery east stonehouse the martello folkestone the armoury stockport the warrior bermondsey the centurion deptford the cossack bath the marksman hackney the recruiting sergeant lincoln the horse artillery great warley the artilleryman chelmsford the engineers gloucester road the life guards rettendon the royal horseguardsman brentford the royal lancers doncaster the lancers yarmouth the hussar hounslow the dragoon bromsgrove the light dragoon cambridge the light horse hounslow the light horseman norwich the valiant trooper aldbury* the grenadier whitley, _note_ the jolly guardsman windsor the hero sheerness the hero of alma alma square the hero of inkerman bagshot the hero of maida edgware road the hero of moultan shrewsbury* the hero of redan norwich the hero of switzerland brixton the hero of waterloo lambeth the norfolk hero swaffham the volunteer saxtead the volunteers weybridge the british volunteer ponder's end the mounted volunteer norwich the rifle volunteer reigate the rifle volunteers yarmouth the rifleman ely the thirteenth rifleman stalybridge the royal rifleman battersea the chelsea pensioner chelsea the bombay grab bow, _note_ music the musical barnsley the musician huddersfield hark ye the melody haverthwaite the lyric great windmill street the lyceum strand the opera catherine street the conquering hero upper grange road the flying dutchman new lakenham the merry fiddlers epping the morris dancers scarisbrick the ring o'bells widcombe the ring of bells chester the chimes plymouth the crotchet witham the organ stalybridge the bugle reading the bugle horn tarrant gunville, _note_ the horn knightrider street the french horn ware the horn and trumpet bewdley the fiddle colney heath the harp great tower street the harp of erin deptford the welsh harp hendon the jew's harp redhill street the cornopean weymouth, _note_ the drum brentwood the kettledrum st. george street nature the spring ewell the happy springs lindley moor the dripping spring hastings the spring view leigh the brook washbrook the well head wendover the water head coniston the jacob's well hanbury street the fountain tuddenham the lake killarney the ocean sandown the dewdrop hampton the shore colby the grotto weybridge the beach leaton the ozone bridlington the peep of day bath the sunbeam crook the shades charing cross the cobwebs richmond the rock newley the great stone northfield the cliff cleethorpes the quarry bourne end the vale of health hampstead the cathole keld the dawn castletown the grove beauchamp place the thicket anerley the royal forest chingford the wood's end bramerton the lane ends bradford the marlbank welland the roadside wingate the hill top castleford nautical the maritime brixham the marine barmouth the navigation runcorn the look out sunderland the grand junction canal buckingham the pier scarborough the ferry bawdsey the dock penzance the lock ipswich the wharf hebden bridge the haven christchurch the harbour lowestoft the harbour view poole the safe harbour ipswich the clarence harbour norwich the breakwater plymouth the lighthouse walcot the dublin packet chester the mail packet folkestone the steam packet ipswich the flint boathouse chester the boat peterborough the ferry boat king's lynn the fishing boat boulmer the life boat shingle street the pilot boat new brighton the peter boat leigh the pleasure boat hickling the shore boat tilney the steam boat ipswich the boat and anchor whittlesea the sloop poole the yacht chester the royal yacht stanhope street the hoy tollesbury the cutter ely the cable south shields the outriggers kingston the ketch worcester the hulk king's lynn the sheer hulk portsea the wherry hulk geldeston the keel and wherry norwich the schooner alnmouth the galleons albert docks the spanish galleon east greenwich the smack leith the fishing smack deptford the oyster smack burnham the lobster smack canvey the barking smack norwich the barking fishery yarmouth the greenland fishery norwich the suffolk fishery gorleston the anchor stamford the foul anchor king's lynn the anchor in hope wilby the ship levington the ship afloat bridgwater the ship aground bridgwater the ship in distress worsell the ship launch harrington the ship on launch cardiff the ship argo london docks the ship defiance wisbech the ship victory chester the plimsoll ship hull, _note_ the china ship wapping the steam ship blackwall the ship and lobster gravesend the ship and lighter rotherhithe the ship and pilot bermondsey the ship and sailor east greenwich the ship and turtle leadenhall street the ship and whale rotherhithe the shannon bucklesham, _note_ the shannon and chesapeake todmorden the victory eton the barge ware the barge aground brentford the city barge kew the pilot barge deptford the row barge woking the admiral woolwich the lord high admiral vauxhall bridge road the captain of the man of war poplar the royal midshipman clerkenwell the royal sailor bath the royal tar kew the jovial sailor ripley the jolly sailors whitburn the valiant sailor folkestone the welcome sailor maldon the sailor boy walworth the fisherman's boy west pinchbeck the mariners norwich the jolly waterman waterbeach the jack on a cruise hull the sailor's farewell fratton the sailor's return ickenham the fisherman's return winterton the boatswain's call norwich the mermaid wisbech the sea witch east greenwich new the new brewery norwich the new beehive bradford the new bell lambeth the new bell and crown winchester the new city norwich the new concord bermondsey the new crane gosberton the new crown whittlesea the new clown islington, _note_ the new corn exchange norwich the new falcon gravesend the new ferry windermere the new fountain city road the new globe mile end the new gardener's arms ipswich the new inn gloucester the new jolly caulkers lower road, _note_ the new mill romford the new market lowestoft the new park battersea the new quay preston the new river head stainsby street the new stag cumberland market the new swan harwich the new star norwich the new white hart newark the new white rose leeds numerical the number one tower smithfield the one bell crayford the one bull bury st. edmunds the one crown watford the one pin wexham the one tun saffron hill, _note_ the doublelock alphington the two bears yarmouth the two brewers windsor the two beehives dunston street the two bells whitechapel the two brothers lambeth the two blue posts mount pleasant the two chairmen charing cross the two doves bromley the two eagles kinglake the two friends blofield the two greyhounds kirkby ravensworth the two hunters hunwick the two mile brook bath road the two mariners hardinge street the two necked swan norwich the two pointers woodlesford the two quarts norwich the two lawyers lambeth the two spies catherine street the two ships soho the two towers penge the three crosses malmesbury the triple plea bedingham the treble tile west bergholt the three ashes romford the three blackbirds ely the three boars wymondham the three cups colchester the three cats sevenoaks the three cocks hay the three cannons carlisle the three cranes mile end the three colts bethnal green the three crowns loughborough the three compasses bromley the three daws gravesend the three elms chignal the three firs sulhampstead bannister the three frogs bracknell the three feathers wymondham the three furnaces brierley hill the three fishes sunbury the three goats bury st. edmunds the three greyhounds borough bridge the three harts stapleford the three houses sandal the three horseshoes great mongeham* the three horses otley the three hammers st. albans the three hills bartlow the three herrings yarmouth the three johns pentonville, _note_ the three jolly butchers wood green the three jolly gardeners hammersmith the three jolly sailors norbiton the three jolly wheelers chigwell row the three jolly weavers lever street the three kings clerkenwell the three kingdoms thames street the three lords minories, _note_ the three legs leeds the three legged cross crux easton the three loggerheads mold, _note_ the three moles selham the three mile inn adwy the three moorhens hitchin the three magpies cirencester the three marines southsea the three mariners bagshot the three mackerel mile end the three nuns aldgate the three nags fritton the three oaks guestling the three pots horse bridge the three pigeons richmond the three pilchards potherro the three postboys blackwater the three rabbits manor park the three salmons craig the three stags lambeth the three squirrels tisbury the three swans market harborough the three sisters clapton the three tuns pettistree the three travellers romford the three wheatsheaves islington the four alls rokeby, _note_ the four ashes takeley the four crosses bicton the four cross roads frampton the four horseshoes long sutton the four points aldworth the four swans waltham cross the five alls cheltenham, _note_ the five arrows waddesdon the five bells burnham the five horseshoes essenden the five miles wicken the five oaks twickenham the five pilchards porthallow the six bells stoke poges the seven sisters seven sisters road the seven stars virginia water the seven thorns liphook the seven dials bath the eight bells kelsale the eight ringers norwich, _note_ the nine elms lambeth the ten bells stonham aspal the eleven cricketers dartford the fourteen stars bristol, _note_ the fifteen balls penrhyn, _note_ the hundred house norton the purslow hundred house aston-on-clun the hundred and one mile end the old the old anchor twickenham the old abbey cambridge the old axe hackney the old ball ashton-under-lyne the old bell and crown winchester the old bell holborn the old barge norwich the old belmont york road the old barrel wednesbury the old buck's head thames street the old brown bear aldersgate the old blue back warrington the old boar manchester the old bunch of grapes bermondsey the old black horse norbiton the old chapter paternoster row the old centurion new cross the old cock ware the old coffee pot downham the old commodore poplar the old cocoa tree pinner the old coffee house hertford the old cheshire cheese essex street the old clock house knightsbridge the old crown girton the old chesterfield shepherd street the old castle bridgwater the old dun cow darlington the old duke's head upwell the old english gentleman harston the old england windermere the old farmhouse kentish town the old friend strawberry hill the old fiddle hatfield the old friends norwich the old green man steeple morden the old greenland fishery hull the old guildford barge lambeth the old guinea cambridge the old golden lion northallerton the old greyhound worcester the old gate house highgate the old harrow kingston the old hatchet ascot the old house at home westerham the old hatch house waterloo the old hat preston bissett the old hall houghton the old ivy house goswell road the old inn chard the old industrious bee blackburn the old jamaica southwark the old jail cudham the old jock calverhall the old justice bermondsey the old king's arms pollard street the old king's head euston road the old king harry mile end the old king of prussia loudwater the old lattice king's lynn the old london bridge chester the old magnet hackney the old maltscoop lapford the old mail coach croydon the old northumberland gosport the old oak hertford the old plough alnwick the old plough and harrow pentre the old post office shrewsbury the old parr's head knightrider street the old quiet woman chapel-en-le-frith the old rock house barton the old roundabout leeds the old red house chester the old red lion hampton the old rover's return manchester the old row barge kingston-on-thames the old rodney's head old street the old raggles queensferry the old roebuck holborn the old robin hood st. ives, hunts the old rose deptford the old sugarloaf dunstable the old swan's nest moorgate street the old sea lion waterloo the old six bells acton the old sergeant battersea the old ship brighton the old swan atherstone the old star york the old tippling philosopher caldicot the old white hart newark the old white lion ravenstonedale the old windmill hammersmith the old waggon and hors bleasby the old yew south wingfield people the adelphi adam street the peoples harrogate bacchus hoxton the vulcan sizewell the apollo tottenham court road the atlas seagrave road the aurora tewkesbury the pandora restronguet the neptune ipswich the hercules newport the cupid hemel hempstead the cupid and bow norwich the duke deptford the duke of suffolk rotherhithe the duke of hamilton hampstead the duke of grafton euston road the duke of norfolk harwich the duke of wellington ely the duke of bedford seymour street the duke of devonshire darnley road the duke of sutherland lorrimore road the duke of fife king's lynn the duke of marlborough norwich the iron duke high wycombe the marquis of lorne kirkley the marquis of granby esher, _note_ the marquis of westminster warwick street the marquis wellesley cromer street the marquis of salisbury balls pond road the marquis of lothian norwich the marquis of anglesey bow street the marquis of hastings ossulston street the marquis of clanricarde southwick street the marquis of cornwallis chedburgh the marquis cornwallis ipswich, _note_ the marquis canonbury the earl of essex manor park the earl of aberdeen mile end the earl of richmond king's lynn the earl of cardigan norwich the earl of leicester east dereham the earl of durham cambridge the earl of derby cambridge the earl of beaconsfield new cross the earl of warwick whitechapel guy earl of warwick poplar the earl st. vincent yarmouth the earl grey ipswich the earl cathcart osnaburgh street the earl russell bristol the earl percy ladbrooke grove the lord collingwood yarmouth the lord nelson ashbocking the lord holmsdale bromley the lord holland brixton the lord napier king's lynn the lord byron leeds the lord rosebery norwich the lord raglan norwich the lord collingwood hall place the lord kitchener stevenage the lord exmouth stepney the lord denman mistley the lord ranelagh richmond road the lord clyde brighton the lord hood bethnal green the lord camden norwich the lord roberts scunthorpe the lord keith york street the lord palmerston kilburn the lord morpeth old ford the lord truro dalston the lord stanley mile end the lord liverpool clark street the lord clive manchester square the lord wellington old kent road the lord hill waterloo the lord wellesley mile end the lord burleigh vauxhall bridge road the lord john russell city road the lord warden dover the lord chancellor ipswich sir john barleycorn newmarket sir charles napier blackburn sir colin campbell kilburn sir john franklin nottingham sir john falstaff canterbury sir ralph abercromby hatton garden sir isaac newton union street sir garnet wolseley norwich sir richard steele haverstock hill the baronet horsington the lady franklin old ford the lady mildmay stoke newington marshal keate poplar the general elliott south hinksey, _note_ the general draper bristol the general havelock chelsea the general picton wharfedale road the general wolfe laxfield the general jackson penge the general abercromby blackfriars the general wyndham norwich the general gordon stamford the general garibaldi staines the general canrobert bethnal green the admiral blake ladbroke grove the admiral keppel fulham road the admiral nelson carlton vale the admiral vernon over the admiral hardy greenwich the admiral benbow ludlow the admiral hawke boston spa the admiral rous galleywood (_e_) the admiral mcbride plymouth the admiral tyrell bermondsey the admiral seymour yarmouth the admiral carter bartholomew close the admiral codrington chelsea the admiral mann hampshire street the admiral napier margate the bold napier norwich the captain harman yarmouth the captain cook cumberland street the captain digby margate the pitt and nelson ashton-under-lyne the nelson stamford the rodney westminster the rodney and hood boston the gladstone brompton the george canning brixton the camden great yarmouth the pakenham knightsbridge the randolph oxford the john burns chiswick the bolingbroke clapham the crosby scunthorpe the john bull bayswater the john barleycorn ware the jane shore shoreditch the wat tyler loveridge road the boleyn east ham judge walmesley whalley the tilden smith king's lynn the c. b. arkle town, _note_ the robin hood sheringham the robin hood and little john ipswich the little john north heigham the owen glendower corwen the garibaldi chalvey the garrick leman street the nell gwynne strand the jenny lind norwich, _note_ the dick turpin finchley the george peabody shadwell the brunel plymouth the william james carlisle the jack of newbury chiswell street, _note_ the jack of both sides reading, _note_ the daniel lambert ludgate hill the mother shipton hampstead the mother redcap camden town the father redcap camberwell the george norton st. philip the christopher eton the dick wortham the tumble-down dick mortimer dirty dick's bishopsgate carr's strand the tom in bedlam redbourn the bess of bedlam norwich the blind beggar mile end the struggler eagle the hob of the well king's lynn the man in the moon chelsea the alderman stannery street the citizen houndsditch the man of kent st. michael's the arthur bury the punch hull the connoisseur philip lane the good woman necton, _note_ the quiet woman pershore the silent woman widford the load of mischief blewbury, _note_ the man laden with mischief maddingley, _note_ the naked man settle the wild man sproughton the sand boy bawsey the lads of the village st. mary cray the heather lad trimdon the highland laddie haughton le skerne the highland chief hertford the highlander hitchin the tourist polperro the running footman charles street, _note_ the virgin worcester the village maid lound the lucky rover hook the dick whittington cloth fair the whittington hull the dying gladiator brigg the ancient druids cambridge poetry and literature the shakespeare victoria the burns milwall the robert burns darlington the andrew marvel hull, _note_ the ben jonson shoe lane the lady of the lake oulton broad the excelsior charing cross road the comus beverton street the childe harold railway street the village blacksmith woolwich the round table leicester square the avalon glastonbury, _note_ the john gilpin cambridge the bell edmonton, _note_ the colleen bawn peckham the paul pry prittlewell the uncle tom's cabin bolton the touchstone stockport the altisidora hull, _note_ the ivanhoe denmark park the waverley edinburgh the compleat angler marlow the darby and joan crowle the vicar of wakefield shoreditch the pindar of wakefield gray's inn road, _note_ the miller of mansfield goring, _note_ the valentine and orson pepin place, _note_ the robinson crusoe earl street the oliver twist leyton the mutual friend stevenage potentates the royalty king's lynn the royal bath the imperial bolton the crown woodbridge the sceptre yarmouth the crown and sceptre brompton the coronet soho the regalia augustus street the sovereign osnaburgh street the royal sovereign kirkstall the monarch silchester terrace the merry monarch herbert street the emperor ipswich the empress cambridge the african chief ossulston street the indian chief chesterton the indian queen bodmin the queen brentwood the british queen old kent road the island queen islington the queen in the west lincoln the queen of england slough the king and queen highworth the victoria earl soham the queen victoria highbeach the empress of india rotherhithe the queen and prince albert great tichfield street the prince consort hampstead the edward the seventh york the alexandra lincoln the king and prince of wales brick street the prince of wales walpole the prince and princess of wales walworth the princess of wales gateshead the princess royal pimlico the princess amelia stratford the princess louise holborn the princess may durham the princess beatrice camden town the princess charlotte princes street the princess victoria earls court the young prince reading the prince of windsor old kent road the prince arthur vauxhall the prince albert victor castle acre the prince albert edward eccles the prince albert sunbury the prince alfred crowthorne the prince edward st. john's wood the prince leopold derby the prince rupert soho the prince frederick bromley the prince teck bermondsey the prince regent hounslow the prince william henry blackfriars the prince george of cumberland albany street the prince of brunswick barnsbury the prince of denmark bloomsbury the prince of hesse fieldgate street the prince of orange dinas the prince of teck earls court the prince of saxe coburg old kent road the prince of prussia windsor the crown prince of prussia acton king alfred lisson grove alfred the great bolton king harold romford king edward the sixth islington king charles newbury king charles the second spitalfields king charles in the oak ely king john southwark king harry st. albans king henry the eighth hever king of denmark old bailey, _note_ king of prussia ringland, _note_ king of sardinia mile end king lud ludgate hill william the conqueror widdington the coeur de lion bath the william rufus simon's bath the george the fourth goswell road the william the fourth ely the queen adelaide ely the royal adelaide ewell the queen anne maidstone the queen caroline norwich the queen catherine osmotherley the queen charlotte jamaica road the queen eleanor enfield the queen elizabeth merrow street the queen victoria theydon bois the queen dowager teddington the queen of hungary norwich the archduke charles rodney road the duke of albany new cross the duke of clarence hackney the duke of connaught norwich the duke of cornwall hammersmith the duke of cambridge putney the duke of cumberland kensington duke william of cumberland hoddesdon the duke of edinburgh fairfoot road the duke of gloucester oxford street the duke of kent liverpool road the duke of lancaster hornsey the duke of sussex acton the duke of würtemburg hatfield street the duke of york york road the duke william kennington the duchess of clarence vauxhall bridge road the duchess of edinburgh city road the duchess of kent liverpool road the duchess of fife portsmouth the duchess of york kingsland road the napoleon manchester the peter the great deptford, _note_ the empress of russia st. john's road the sultan camberwell the grand sultan dover the shah of persia parkstone the mogul drury lane the great mogul maghull the cleopatra savoy street the royal albert hanley the royal connaught holborn the royal saxon westbourn park the royal william woodbridge the grave maurice whitechapel, _note_ railways the railway peterborough the railway bell new barnet the railway guard clapham junction the railway porter vauxhall the ticket porter arthur street the station melton the viaduct kirkstall the junction purston the safety valve forncett the express kew bridge the express train norwich the locomotive derby the engine west drayton the steam engine high wycombe the engine house chester the engine and tender bedford the tramway pakefield the e. u. r. ipswich the great eastern liverpool street the great western paddington the great northern king's cross the north eastern york sports, games and pastimes the gun lupus street the cross guns thorney the dog and gun potto the dog and duck winchester the dog and pheasant bromsgrove the dog and partridge upton the duck and dog wymondham the fox and pheasant great massingham the badger box annesley woodhouse the equestrian blackfriars the steeplechase st. albans the stakes stalybridge the turf richmond the chester cup plymouth the st. leger doncaster the amato epsom the blink bonny chathill the diamond jubilee gaywood the flying childers kirkby the flying fox colchester the highflyer ely the ladas epsom the smoker plumbley, _note_ the voltigeur barton the race horse westhall the trotting horse ludlow the running horse sunbury the running h blackfriars the running cobham the string of horses holbeach the horse and jockey oxford the horse and groom melton the man and horse moulton eaugate the man and saddle chester the ostler hackney, _note_ the post boy hitcham the post boys oxford the sportsman aldham the huntsman's call worcester park the huntsman and hounds walworth the merry harriers cullompton the hare and hounds sheen the fox and hounds barley the stag and hounds bristol the stag and hunt ponsanooth the stag and hunters brendon the bramhill hunt wokingham the brocklesby hunt goschill the old berkeley hunt watford the surrey hounds st. john's hill the thornton hunt thornton curtis the tally ho mettingham the hark to bounty staidburn the hark to lasher castleton the hark to mopsey normanton the hark to nudger dobcross the hark to towler bury the blue cap sandiway, _note_ the triumphal chariot pembroke mews the royal mail upper street the mail coach shepherds bush the four-in-hand croydon the coach and horses ipswich the chaise and horses hammersmith the chaise and pair wickham market the postchaise ipswich the tandem oxford the sedan chair north searle the wheel ely the turnpike hayle the horseshoes tottenham court road the manger bradfield the saddle chester the pack saddle mapledurham the whip and nag norwich the whip and collar mile end the club ely the recreation faversham the anglers ennerdale the ball chard the bat and ball gravesend the cricketers eton the merry cricketers bermondsey the cricket players shipham the wrestlers norwich the archery bathurst street the butts aldermaston the arrow himbleton the cross bow sotherton the bird bolt cambridge, _note_ the bowling green badingham the corner pin clerkenwell the pin and bowl wokingham the coat and badge hammersmith the chequers sudbourne the tennis court bradford the dumb bell taplow the air balloon landport the balloon holbeck the noah's ark oxford street the hoop cambridge the hoops saffron walden the hoop and toy south kensington the ninepin cambridge the clown islington the harlequin lincoln the queen of trumps west walton the knave of clubs bethnal green the most ancient inns _circa_ the fountain canterbury the ostrich colnbrook the angel grantham the george and dragon speedhurst the seven stars manchester the george norton st. philip the cardinal's cap cambridge the new inn gloucester the running horses leatherhead the george southwark the george winchcombe the white hart scole the lord crewe arms blanchland the star alfriston the pope's head norwich the anglers ennerdale the dick whittington cloth fair the harlequin lincoln the highest inns _feet_ the tan hill inn swaledale the cat and fiddle cheshire the travellers' rest flash bar the island of skye wessenden head the newby head ingleton the duchy dartmoor the moorcock hawes junction "gallows signs" the fox and hounds barley the magpie stonham parva the green man and black's head ashbourne the red lion hampton the four swans waltham cross the george stamford the swan fittleworth signs painted by well-known artists the man laden with mischief oxford st. hogarth the stag doncaster j. f. herring the coach and horses doncaster j. f. herring the white lion doncaster j. f. herring the loggerheads llanverris david cox the fox and pelican grayshott walter crane the row barge wallingford leslie the george and dragon wargrave leslie and hodgson the ferry rosneath h.r.h. princess louise the mortal man troutbeck ibbetson the smoker plumbley miss leighton the two sawyers pockthorpe john crome brewery, norwich inns famous for architecture the reindeer banbury the crown and treaty house uxbridge the feathers ludlow the raven shrewsbury the new inn gloucester the bear and billet chester foreign cafÉ signs la briarde (nourrice) hondeghem la poupée poperinghe au papegai poperinghe au damier de comines poperinghe skindles poperinghe au faucon poperinghe au cour de flandre poperinghe À la tête d'argent poperinghe au congo dickebusch au transvaal la clytte au tivoli la clytte au faubourg reninghelst au cheval boulonnais abeele au comte de flandre abeele au retour de la gare abeele À st. eloi abeele au cheval d'or rexpoede au retour de la nouvelle boescheppe calédonie au grand st. sebastien steenvoorde au vrai cacillane steenvoorde au drapeau français steenvoorde au comte géant bailleul À la porte d'or bergues À l'aviation bergues au vaisseau de ligne bergues hôtel faidherbe dunkirk au retour des docks dunkirk À l'ancien courrier de calais dunkirk aux deux entêtés winquin l'as de trefle renescure la bascule ebblinghem trois chevaux hazebrouck l'assurance contre la soif watten dix centimes l'action À paris comme à londres le watten soleil luit pour tout le monde au sébastopol nort nentinghem la maison blanche monnecove au coeur joyeux tilques au grand marlborough st. martin au laert le taupier de normandie st. omer À l'entrée de milan st. pol au chat vert st. pol trois pigeons fruges la ville de boulogne fruges hôtel moderne fruges À la ville de cassel fruges aux alliés vainqueurs fruges cheval noir fruges au voltigeur pont de nieppe À moscou pont de nieppe À faidherbe pont de nieppe au boeuf armentières au grand homme armentières aux dix chasseurs à pied armentières au fer à cheval crépy À la batteuse de trefle roellecourt au bourrelier rosult au razoir americain hasnon au coq hardi denain café maubeugeois denain aux quatrième hussards denain au chat noir denain au tambour major denain À l'entr'acte denain À la colombe denaisienne denain au repos des cochers lille café bellevue lille café mulhouse lille hôtel de l'europe lille À la gaieté noeux les mines (tenancier, meurdesoif) À la fraternelle - - ruitz vin sans eau coupelle vieille au vert baudet arras aux neuf fillettes arras À la tête de boeuf abbeville hôtel de france abbeville au canon d'or crécy À la descente de la jeunesse amiens hôtel du rhin amiens À l'étoile du jour pont rémy À la grâce de dieu pont rémy aux voyageurs etaples aux quatre fils d'aymon doullens au petit caporal henencourt À la hotte pleine de malice villers simon au tonkin caumesnil hôtel de la cloche dijon hôtel du jura dijon hôtel de bourgogne dijon À la chaudière melun lille et albion paris france et choiseul paris st. james et albany paris continental paris au club alpin champex trois couronnes martigny (a.d. ) hôtel du grand st. bernard martigny café de la vapeur vevey café du transvaal vevey hôtel d'angleterre vevey hôtel du château ouchy hôtel beau rivage ouchy café de la navigation ouchy café du nègre blanc lausanne café du raisin lausanne hôtel gibbon lausanne hôtel beauséjour lausanne hôtel communal pully café des trois chasseurs monts de pully au chasseur prilly café de la truite villeneuve au cheval blanc st. blaise À la turquie chessel notes unless otherwise stated, the house is situated in a london street. . a personification of malt liquor, alluded to by robert burns. three barleycorns equal inch. . a heap of barley; saxon--mowe; italian--mucchio. appears in hogarth's print 'beer street.' . horse and dorsers or dorsiters. an old rendering of 'pack horse.' sometimes found as the frighted horse, a corruption of 'freighted.' . now a private house. taylor the water-poet alludes to the incident of the river nen overflowing its banks and carrying away a man asleep on a hay-cock. the old signboard illustrated this event. . strike--the round piece of wood used in levelling the struck bushel. . larwood and hotten state that this sign is found in the neighbourhood of nursery gardens. . refers to the heart of the holy virgin pierced with swords. . commemorates 'england's wooden walls.' . on a board is written: this gate hangs high and hinders none refesh [_sic_] and pay and journey on. . may refer to the papal hand raised in blessing. see bishop hall's 'satires,' book v., sat. (larwood). . during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries the turks were the bugbear of europe. similar signs are black's head and saracen's head and negro's head. negroes with feathered heads were often seen as tobacconists' signs. . in this house king charles i. was given up to the scotch commissioners. . this tavern alludes to the duke of bedford, ground landlord of the district. pope recommends the house for its cuisine. . lode--a ditch that guides water into a river. (dr. brewer.) this inn is situated in the fen district. . one of the oldest licensed houses in england. the pope's head in cornhill was a famous tavern; the alley still remains. . this inn has a sign representing this politician with a copy of the _north briton_ under his left arm. . an obsolete term for a large hunting dog. _cf._ packhorse and talbot. . one that carries baggage. _cf._ packhorse, horse and dorsers (note). . common as a perfumer's sign in europe. the civet is said to produce musk. (larwood.) . jocularly called 'the gentleman in trouble.' formerly a starting place for coaches. . once called 'pig and whip.' tradition has it that the present sign refers to a surly tenant. . a mammoth beast born at ketton (near darlington), which toured england on exhibition at fairs, etc. . baldfaced--a term applied to animals which have a white strip down forehead to nose. . alludes to a fabulous monster supposed to have been discovered at st. osyth, in essex, in the reign of henry the second. (larwood.) . the grasshopper was the crest of sir thomas gresham, and may still be seen on weathervane of the royal exchange. . the papal arms. . scutch--to strip hides. (dr. brewer.) . the rising sun in islington road gives notice in that a fine hog will be barbecued--_i.e._ whole roasted, stuffed with spice, basted with madeira. (larwood.) . these seven stars seem to be the same that are used as a masonic emblem. . the rainbow in fleet street has the reputation of being the smallest licensed house in london. . cock and pymat. synonymous with cock and magpie, or cock and pie. larwood also calls it pynot. at the cock and pymot, old whittington, derbyshire, was plotted the revolution of by the earls of danby and devonshire, and mr. d'arcy. (hone's table book.) . pyewipe--a local name for the peewit. . a house much adorned by artists. . a famous carrier's inn, whence passengers and goods were dispatched to the north. the ceremony of nicking the royal and corporation swans on the thames still continues. . a fine brand of hops used to be imported from würtemburg. . best known as a landmark in the university boat race. . said to derive its sign from queen elizabeth having sheltered there. called in parish books of 'the queen's tree.' (larwood.) . larwood states that this sign is very rare. he gives it the epithet of gloomy, referring to psalm cxxxvii. . . probably alludes to the druids. . from virginia came the first tobacco brought into england. . the best known tabard was that inn in southwark whence chaucer and his party started for canterbury. the tabard, a sleeveless jacket, still worn by heralds. . does this refer to the thirsty reputation of cobblers? . cravat. derived from croats. introduced into france . (brewer.) . a sign of great antiquity. it is found in , and was probably originally a tobacconist's sign. the calves head club met at the black boy, newgate street. variations of the sign are the arab boy, east sheen; the black boys, aylsham. . stow mentions a black bell in fish street hill. . this may refer to some ghostly hound. . this inn is extinct. the name is a variant of leather bottle. . the black lion appears in the arms of queen philippa, consort of edward iii. also borne by owen glendower. . the badge of richard ii. in the garden of this house is the old sign that used to be in piccadilly on site of the present criterion. . the white horse in kensington was frequented by addison. . this house figures in the adventures of mr. pickwick. . badge of edward iv. . refers probably to robin hood, or combined as green man and still was found as a herbalist's sign. (dr. brewer.) . lincolnshire seems very partial to blue; we find the blue man, boar, dog, fox, bull. larwood also mentions in the same county--blue cow and greyhound. . larwood supposes this sign to refer to the marriage of james i. with anne of denmark. . badge of cadwallader, ancestor of the house of tudor. . the red or roan horse. washington irving's inn. the badge of pedro of castille, father-in-law of john of gaunt. . the house of martlesham has a lion painted in post office red supposed to originate from a dutch vessel taken at sole bay . . thus the old nursery rhyme i had a bonny nag his name was dapple grey he would bring me to an alehouse a mile out of the way. pope also refers to 'dappled flanders mares.' . in there were in the west riding alone no fewer than inns, etc., bearing this sign. (larwood.) . this sign appears to be unique. pied.--variegated; spotted like a magpie. . sorrel. a reddish-brown colour. french--saure. this and the chestnut horse, great finborough, refer to the county breed of suffolk horses. . this inn bears a pictorial sign with the words 'intactum sileo.' larwood also mentions bell and bullock; bell and lion; bell and candlestick. . larwood also mentions crown and woodpecker (corrupted from wool pack); crown and fan (a fanmaker's sign); crown and rasp (used by fribourg and treyer, tobacconists); crown and can; crown and tower; crown and thistle. . this sign refers to the royal champion's (dymoke) appearance at the coronation ceremony. . this inn pays a quit rent of _d._ and a damask rose. . a large drinking glass. dutch--roemer. . a curious and unique sign only equalled by the hunchbacked cats (les chats bossus) of lille. (larwood.) . supposed to be a corruption of caton le fidèle. the sign recalls the nursery rhyme. . a skit on the highland drovers who passed that way with cattle for london. . a nickname given to this inn by local people. 'the red lion.' . a skit on coach and four, 'coach and dogs.' . _eagle and lamb_ formerly had a pictorial board depicting an eagle preying on a lamb. . (_a_) misreading of the words god encompasseth us. (_b_) coat of arms of cordwainers' company; the chevron corrupted into compasses. (larwood.) . an allusion to the thirteen protestant cantons of switzerland; soho being largely inhabited by swiss. _cf._ sun and thirteen cantons. . an allusion to the story of king james and the tinker of enfield. . the crest of the middle temple. . maund is an old word meaning basket. . (_a_) a facetious rendering of bear and ragged staff; (_b_) pige washail--salutation to our lady; (_c_) pig--scotch for pot; whistle--small change. in winchester cathedral among the stall carvings is one showing a sow playing on a whistle and another pig playing the violin. (larwood.) . part of arms of clothworkers' company. teazel--an instrument to brush velvet. . larwood mentions this house, also swan and rummer; swan and helmet; swan and soldier (? lohengrin); swan and hoop, moorfields (birthplace of keats). . occurs in larwood's book. . this sign, now extinct, recalls the exploits of a soldier of that name during the peninsular war. . it is hoped that this is a case of 'lucus a non lucendo.' . at winterslow hut occurred the episode of the lioness attacking the leaders of the salisbury mail. the coach and horses, clerkenwell, shows a pictorial signboard of this event. . famous for its living sign. . the beehive, abingdon, displays this rhyme within this hive we're all alive good liquor makes us funny if you are dry step in and try the flavour of our honey. . larwood calls this 'an alluring but maudlin title.' . has the uncommon sight of a tombstone in the garden. . st. rhadegund, - . a christian lady, queen of franks. married to clotaire i. fête august . (larousse.) . patron saint of woolcombers. . this sign showed a man returning home, and to his wife's inquiry as to where he had been he replied 'no place.' _cf._ outis. ulysses to the cyclops. . here ended the fire of london, september , . . once on this board was written: a soldier's fortune i tell you plain is a wooden leg or a golden chain. . this sign shows two serious looking women trying to wash a blackamoor in a dolly tub. . probably refers to adam. _cf._ wild man, green man. . this inn is now extinct, but the title is supposed to refer to bonaparte's attempt to invade england. . the original sign of this house bore the reputation of having been painted by george morland. . see boswell's _life of johnson_, vol. iii, p. . it is the old dog in a new doublet. . the dolphin, norwich, stands on site of a bishop's palace. the dolphin in bishopsgate is mentioned by stowe , and probably to this house pepys repaired in . . sometimes this sign was on the signboard: i'll go with my friend to the world's end. this inn was visited by pepys in . . usually represented by rabbits shooting at men (near reading), horses riding in carriages, etc. . the classic name for the straits of gibraltar. in the sign of an inn on the site of the present hamilton place, the end of the then inhabited world of london. . the jamaica in bermondsey was reputed to have been once the residence of oliver cromwell. . larwood thinks that this sign dates from the spanish succession question, . . noticed by larwood who states that the scotch pedlars penetrated as far as poland in . . larwood also mentions golden beard, candlestick, crotchet (sign of messrs. novello), frying pan, maid, quoit, slipper. . refers to the quest of the argonauts. suitable as the sign of a woollen draper. . an inn of this name at fulham is supposed to have been frequented by shakespeare in . (larwood.) . the tudor badge. can be seen to-day in king's college chapel, cambridge. . the trade mark of city of london brewery co. . the rummer. see note to bear and rummer ( ). . _cf._ the black jack. another variant is messrs. hoare's sign the golden bottle at the well-known bank in fleet street. . mentioned by larwood, also the flank of beef, spalding. also the shoulder of mutton and cucumber. . this house is famous for the beefsteak pudding. . this inn shows a very pleasing sign. . originating from the hero of a famous ballad. also gives its name to a place near st. austell. . two brothers who worked as cobblers while preaching the gospel. henry v. mentioned them in his address to the troops on agincourt field, october , . henry v., iv. iii. . larwood quotes this rhyme from a signboard at birmingham the baker says 'i've the staff of life and you're a silly elf.' the brewer replied, with artful pride 'why, this is life itself.' . does this house set a gin for the unwary? . also in coutts road, bow, in both cases he is represented with his head under his arm. . from this inn in aldermanbury a regular service of stage wagons travelled from london to liverpool. . alludes to an old custom of butcher boys serenading newly-married couples. . though classified here, is generally reckoned to be a corruption of bacchanals. . becket. an implement for digging peat. . sprocket. used in the fen country. both these inns are near ely. . this house displays a gigantic pair of shears as a sign. . this inn has a pictorial sign showing the weapon, half axe, half spear. . this inn stands on the site of the stake where the lollards perished. . supposed to commemorate a soldier buried in winchester who died of drinking small beer. . grab was the slang term used in india to denote a foot-soldier. . larwood states that bugle is the local name in the isle of wight for a wild bull, and is used as such by a writer of . _cf._ french--beugler--to low. . a musical horn. (nuttall.) . refers to the plimsoll mark, invented by samuel plimsoll, - . . this sign commemorates sir philip broke's victory. the family seat is quite near. . larwood states that this sign has been changed from that of joe grimaldi. . caulk or calk. to stuff the seams of a ship with oakum. . the one tun near hungerford market is mentioned in a newspaper of . . larwood mentioned this sign as depicting john wilkes, john horne tooke, and sir john glynn. . commemorates the two lords balmerino and kilmarnock, executed for their share in the rebellion of . lord nithsdale escaped, disguised as a woman. . shows two grinning faces and underneath is written we three loggerheads be and the observer is the third of the trio. . also five alls. . a print by kay shows dr. hunter, a scotch divine--i pray for all; erskine the lawyer--i plead for all; a farmer--i maintain all; h.m. george iii--i fight for all; the devil--i take all. . larwood mentions this inn. . probably used as a change from seven stars. . refers to the cornish arms, fifteen roundles. . immortalized by sam weller. the hero of minden. . - . twice governor-general of india. . afterwards lord heathfield, defender of gibraltar. . abbreviated from charles bathurst who developed the adjoining lead mines. . - . the swedish prima donna who married mr. goldschmidt. . alias winchcombe--a renowned clothier who equipped at his own expense men to fight at flodden, . . stands at a ~y~-shaped corner, vulgarly called a 'flat iron.' . represented as headless. larwood suggests a corruption of heedless. _cf._ the virgins in the parable. , . taken from hogarth's print. both this and the following inn have pictorial signs. . this sign is probably unique and has a painted picture. many of these lackeys were irish and had st. patrick's day as a holiday. . a native of hull. a friend of milton and confidant of cromwell, - . . avalon--an old folk name for this district in somerset. . has a signboard showing john gilpin on his famous ride. . a character in don quixote. (dr. brewer.) . the pindar had charge of the village pound and looked after stray cattle. (larwood.) . hero of a ballad. . this inn existed in . the sign commemorates the two twin brothers of that name born in a wood near orleans. they were sons of bellisant and nephews of king pepin. (dr. brewer.) . larwood mentioned this inn and states that the sign commemorates christian iv., father-in-law of james i.--being so near newgate the landlord was wealthy. . macaulay, quoted by larwood, mentioned that on all sides painters were touching up admiral vernon into k. of p. frederick the great, the hero of rosbach. . the czar peter after his day's work resorted to a public-house in great tower street, the sign was altered in his honour to the czar of muscovy head. (barrow's _life of peter the great_.) . dutch graaf--_i.e._ count. probably maurice of nassau, prince of orange, popular in this country on account of his opposition to the spaniards in the netherlands. (larwood.) . smoker. this sign painted by miss leighton alludes to a racehorse the property of lord de tabley. . ostler. sometimes spelt hostler, derived from french hostelier, hôtelier; has lost its original meaning of the 'landlord.' . this inn commemorates a famous foxhound, , whose exploits are set forth on the sign board. . larwood mentioned this a sign of some antiquity. a birdbolt was an ancient implement for shooting at birds. _printed in england at_ the ballantyne press spottiswoode, ballantyne & co. ltd. _colchester, london & eton_ note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see -h.htm or -h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/ / -h/ -h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/ / -h.zip) transcriber's note: text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). a carat character is used to denote superscription. a single character following the carat is superscripted (example: m^r). multiple superscripted characters are enclosed by curly brackets (example: m^{rs}). an additional transcriber's note is at the end of the book. contributions from the museum of history and technology paper tea drinking in th-century america: its etiquette and equipage by rodris roth [illustration: _an english family at tea._ detail from an oil painting attributed to joseph van aken, about . in collection of victoria and albert museum. crown copyright. (color plate courtesy of the _saturday book_.)] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ _tea drinking in th-century america: its etiquette and equipage--_ _by rodris roth_ _in th-century america, the pleasant practice of taking tea at home was an established social custom with a recognized code of manners and distinctive furnishings. pride was taken in a correct and fashionable tea table whose equipage included much more than teapot, cups, and saucers._ _it was usually the duty of the mistress to make and pour the tea; and it was the duty of the guests to be adept at handling a teacup and saucer and to provide social "chitchat." because of the expense and time involved, the tea party was limited to the upper classes; consequently, such an affair was a status symbol. the cocktail party of the th century has, perhaps, replaced the tea party of the th century as a social custom, reflecting the contrast between the relaxed atmosphere of yesterday with the hurried pace of today._ the author: _miss roth is assistant curator of cultural history in the united states national museum, smithsonian institution._ --------------------- the americans "use much tea," noted the abbé robin during his visit to this country in . "the greatest mark of civility and welcome they can show you, is to invite you to drink it with them."[ ] tea was the social beverage of the th century; serving it was a sign of politeness and hospitality, and drinking it was a custom with distinctive manners and specific equipment. most discussions of the commodity have dealt only with its political, historical, or economic importance; however, in order to understand the place tea holds in this country's past, it also is important to consider the beverage in terms of the social life and traditions of the americans. as the abbé robin pointed out, not only was tea an important commodity on this side of the atlantic, but the imbibing of it was an established social practice. an examination of teatime behavior and a consideration of what utensils were used or thought appropriate for tea drinking are of help in reconstructing and interpreting american history as well as in furnishing and re-creating interiors of the period, thus bringing into clearer focus the picture of daily life in th-century america. for these reasons, and because the subject has received little attention, the present study has been undertaken. tea had long been known and used in the orient before it was introduced into europe in the early part of the th century. at about the same time two other new beverages appeared, chocolate from the americas and coffee from the near east. the presence of these commodities in european markets is indicative of the vigorous exploration and active trade of that century, which also witnessed the successful settlement of colonies in north america. by about mid- th century the new beverages were being drunk in england, and by the 's were being sold in new england. at first chocolate was preferred, but coffee, being somewhat cheaper, soon replaced it and in england gave rise to a number of public places of refreshment known as coffee houses. coffee was, of course, the primary drink of these establishments, but that tea also was available is indicated by an advertisement that appeared in an english newspaper in . one of the earliest advertisements for tea, it announced: that excellent, and by all physitians approved, _china_ drink, called by the _chineans_, _tcha_, by other nations _tay alias tee_, is sold at the _sultaness-head_, a _cophee-house_ in _sweetings_ rents by the royal exchange, london.[ ] for a time tea was esteemed mainly for its curative powers, which explains why it was "by all physitians approved." according to an english broadside published in , the numerous contemporary ailments which tea "helpeth" included "the headaches, giddiness, and heaviness." it was also considered "good for colds, dropsies and scurvies and [it] expelleth infection. it prevents and cures agues, surfeits and fevers."[ ] by the end of the th century, however, tea's medicinal qualities had become secondary to its fashionableness as a unique drink. tea along with the other exotic and novel imports from the orient such as fragile porcelains, lustrous silks, and painted wallpapers had captured the european imagination. though the beverage was served in public pleasure gardens as well as coffee houses during the early 's in england, social tea drinking in the home was gradually coming into favor. the coffee houses continued as centers of political, social, and literary influence as well as of commercial life into the first half of the th century, for apparently englishmen preferred to drink their coffee in public rather than private houses and among male rather than mixed company. this was in contrast to tea, which was drunk in the home with breakfast or as a morning beverage and socially at afternoon gatherings of both sexes, as we see in the painting _an english family at tea_ (frontispiece). as tea drinking in the home became fashionable, both host and hostess took pride in a well-appointed tea table, for a teapot of silver or fragile blue-and-white oriental porcelain with matching cups and saucers and other equipage added prestige as well as elegance to the teatime ritual. [illustration: figure .--_family group_, by gawen hamilton, about . in collection of colonial williamsburg, inc. the tea set, undoubtedly of porcelain, includes cups and saucers, a cream or milk container, and a sugar container with tongs. (_photo courtesy of colonial williamsburg, inc._)] at first the scarcity and expense of the tea, the costly paraphernalia used to serve it, and the leisure considered necessary to consume it, limited the use of this commodity to the upper classes. for these reasons, social tea drinking was, understandably, a prestige custom. one becomes increasingly aware of this when looking at english paintings and prints of the early th century, such as _family group_ (fig. ), painted by gawen hamilton about . family members are portrayed in the familiar setting of their own parlor with its paneled walls and comfortable furnishings. their pet, a small dog, surveys the scene from a resting place on a corner of the carpet. teatime appears to have just begun, for cups are still being passed around and others on the table await filling from the nearby porcelain teapot. it seems reasonable to assume, since the painting is portraiture, that the family is engaged in an activity which, although familiar, is considered suitable to the group's social position and worthy of being recorded in oil. that tea drinking was a status symbol also is indicated by the fact that the artist has used the tea ceremony as the theme of the picture and the tea table as the focal point. eighteenth-century pictures and writings are basic source materials for information about anglo-american tea drinking. (see the chronological list of pictures consulted, on page .) a number of the pictures are small-scale group or conversation piece paintings of english origin in which family and friends are assembled at tea, similar to _family group_, and they provide pictorial information on teatime modes and manners. the surroundings in which the partakers of tea are depicted also reveal information about the period and about the gracious living enjoyed in the better homes. paneled walls and comfortable chairs, handsome chests and decorative curtains, objects of ceramic and silver and glass, all were set down on canvas or paper with painstaking care, and sometimes with a certain amount of artistic license. a careful study of these paintings provides an excellent guide for furnishing and reconstructing period rooms and exhibits, even to the small details such as objects on mantels, tables, and chests, thus further documenting data from newspapers, journals, publications, and writings of the same period. in america, as in england, tea had a rather limited use as a social beverage during the early 's. judge samuel sewall, the recorder-extraordinary of boston life at the turn of the th century, seems to have mentioned tea only once in his copious diary. in the entry for april , , sewall wrote that he had attended a meeting at the residence of madam winthrop where the guests "drunk ale, tea, wine."[ ] at this time ale and wine, in contrast to tea, were fairly common drinks. since tea and the equipment used to serve it were costly, social tea drinking was restricted to the prosperous and governing classes who could afford the luxury. the portrayal of the rotund silver teapot and other tea-drinking equipment in such an american painting as _susanna truax_ (fig. ), done by an unknown painter in , indicates that in this country as in england not only was the tea ceremony of social importance but also that a certain amount of prestige was associated with the equipage. and, the very fact that an artist was commissioned for a portrait of this young girl is suggestive of a more than ordinary social status of the sitter and activity depicted. [illustration: figure . _susanna truax_, an american painting dated . in collection of edgar william and bernice chrysler garbisch, national gallery of art. on the beige, marble-like table top beside susanna--who wears a dress of red, black, and white stripes--are a fashionable silver teapot and white ceramic cup, saucer, and sugar dish. (_photo courtesy national gallery of art._)] english customs were generally imitated in this country, particularly in the urban centers. of boston, where he visited in , joseph bennett observed that "the ladies here visit, drink tea and indulge every little piece of gentility to the height of the mode and neglect the affairs of their families with as good grace as the finest ladies in london."[ ] english modes and manners remained a part of the social behavior after the colonies became an independent nation. visitors to the newly formed united states were apt to remark about such habits as tea drinking, as did brissot de warville in , that "in this, as in their whole manner of living, the americans in general resemble the english."[ ] therefore, it is not surprising to find that during the th century the serving of tea privately in the morning and socially in the afternoon or early evening was an established custom in many households. the naturalist peter kalm, during his visit to north america in the mid- th century, noted that tea was a breakfast beverage in both pennsylvania and new york. from the predominantly dutch town of albany in he wrote that "their breakfast is tea, commonly without milk." at another time, kalm[ ] stated: with the tea was eaten bread and butter or buttered bread toasted over the coals so that the butter penetrated the whole slice of bread. in the afternoon about three o'clock tea was drunk again in the same fashion, except that bread and butter was not served with it. this tea-drinking schedule was followed throughout the colonies. in boston the people "take a great deal of tea in the morning," have dinner at two o'clock, and "about five o'clock they take more tea, some wine, madeira [and] punch,"[ ] reported the baron cromot du bourg during his visit in . the marquis de chastellux confirms his countryman's statement about teatime, mentioning that the americans take "tea and punch in the afternoon."[ ] during the first half of the th century the limited amount of tea available at prohibitively high prices restricted its use to a proportionately small segment of the total population of the colonies. about mid-century, however, tea was beginning to be drunk by more and more people, as supplies increased and costs decreased, due in part to the propaganda and merchandising efforts of the east india company. according to peter kalm, tea, chocolate, and coffee had been "wholly unknown" to the swedish population of pennsylvania and the surrounding area before the english arrived, but in these beverages "at present constitute even the country people's daily breakfast."[ ] a similar observation was made a few years later by israel acrelius:[ ] tea, coffee, and chocolate are so general as to be found in the most remote cabins, if not for daily use, yet for visitors, mixed with muscovado, or raw sugar. america was becoming a country of tea drinkers. then, in , the townshend act imposed a duty on tea, among other imported commodities. merchants and citizens in opposition to the act urged a boycott of the taxed articles. a virginia woman, in a letter[ ] to friends in england, wrote in : ... i have given up the article of tea, but some are not quite so tractable; however if wee can convince the good folks on your side the water of their error, wee may hope to see happier times. in spite of the tax many colonists continued to indulge in tea drinking. by the general public, according to one philadelphia merchant, "can afford to come at this piece of luxury" while one-third of the population "at a moderate computation, drink tea twice a day."[ ] it was at this time, however, that efforts were made to enforce the english tea tax and the result was that most famous of tea parties, the "boston tea party." thereafter, an increasing number of colonists abstained from tea drinking as a patriotic gesture. philip fithian, a tutor at nomini hall, the virginia plantation of col. robert carter, wrote in his journal on sunday, may , : after dinner we had a grand & agreeable walk in & through the gardens--there is great plenty of strawberries, some cherries, goose berries &c.--drank coffee at four, they are now too patriotic to use tea. and indeed they were patriotic, for by september the taste of tea almost had been forgotten at nomini hall, as fithian vividly recounted in his journal:[ ] something in our palace this evening, very merry happened--mrs. _carter_ made a dish of tea. at coffee, she sent me a dish--& the colonel both ignorant--he smelt, sipt--look'd--at last with great gravity he asks what's this?--do you ask sir--poh!--and out he throws it splash a sacrifice to vulcan. [illustration: figure .--_a society of patriotic ladies_ at edenton in north carolina pledging to drink no more tea, , an engraving published by r. sayer and j. bennet, london. in print and photograph division, library of congress. (_photo courtesy of library of congress._)] other colonists, in their own way, also showed their distaste for tea (see fig. ). shortly before the outbreak of the american revolution there appeared in several newspapers an expression of renouncement in rhyme, "a lady's adieu to her tea-table"[ ] (below), which provides a picture of contemporary teatime etiquette and equipage. _a lady's adieu to her tea-table_ _farewell the tea-board with your gaudy attire, ye cups and ye saucers that i did admire; to my cream pot and tongs i now bid adieu; that pleasure's all fled that i once found in you. farewell pretty chest that so lately did shine, with hyson and congo and best double fine; many a sweet moment by you i have sat, hearing girls and old maids to tattle and chat; and the spruce coxcomb laugh at nothing at all, only some silly work that might happen to fall. no more shall my teapot so generous be in filling the cups with this pernicious tea, for i'll fill it with water and drink out the same, before i'll lose liberty that dearest name, because i am taught (and believe it is fact) that our ruin is aimed at in the late act, of imposing a duty on all foreign teas, which detestable stuff we can quit when we please. liberty's the goddess that i do adore, and i'll maintain her right until my last hour, before she shall part i will die in the cause, for i'll never be govern'd by tyranny's laws._ many people gave up tea for the duration of the war and offered various substitute beverages such as coffee and dried raspberry leaves, "a detestable drink" which the americans "had the heroism to find good," remarked a postwar visitor, léon chotteau.[ ] although the colonists had banished tea "with enthusiasm," the tea habit was not forgotten. chotteau further noted that "they all drink tea in america as they drink wine in the south of france." tea drinking continued to be an important social custom in the new nation well into the th century. the tea ceremony, sometimes simple, sometimes elaborate, was the very core of family life. moreau de st. méry observed in , during his residence in philadelphia, that "the whole family is united at tea, to which friends, acquaintances and even strangers are invited."[ ] that teatime hospitality was offered to the newest of acquaintances or "even strangers" is verified by claude blanchard. he wrote of his visit to newport, rhode island, on july , , that "in the evening there was an illumination. i entered the house of an inhabitant, who received me very well; i took tea there, which was served by a young lady." and while staying in boston, blanchard mentioned that a new acquaintance "invited us to come in the evening to take tea at his house. we went there; the tea was served by his daughter."[ ] in the daily routine of activities when the hour for tea arrived, moreau de st. méry remarked that "the mistress of the house serves it and passes it around."[ ] in the words of another late- th-century diarist, the marquis de barbé-marbois, those present might "seat themselves at a spotless mahogany table, and the eldest daughter of the household or one of the youngest married women makes the tea and gives a cup to each person in the company." _family group_ (fig. ) provides an illustration of this practice in the early part of the century. during the tea hour social and economic affairs were discussed, gossip exchanged, and, according to barbé-marbois, "when there is no news at all, they repeat old stories."[ ] many entries in nancy shippen's journal[ ] between and indicate that this philadelphian passed many such hours in a similar manner. on march , , she wrote: "about in the afternoon d^r cutting came in, & we spent the afternoon in the most agreable chit-chat manner, drank a very good dish of tea together & then separated." part of an undated entry in december reads: "this afternoon we were honor'd with the company of gen^l washington to tea, m^{rs} & major moore, m^{rs} stewart m^r powel m^r b washington, & two or more." if acquaintances of nancy's own age were present or the company large, the tea hour often extended well into the evening with singing, conversing, dancing, and playing of whist, chess, or cards. of one such occasion she wrote:[ ] m^{rs} allen & the miss chews drank tea with me & spent the even'g. there was half a dozen agreable & sensible men that was of the party. the conversation was carried on in the most sprightly, agreable manner, the ladies bearing by far the greatest part--till nine when cards was proposed, & about ten, refreshments were introduced which concluded the evening. obviously, young men and women enjoyed the sociability of teatime, for it provided an ideal occasion to get acquainted. when the marquis de chastellux was in philadelphia during the 's he went one afternoon to "take tea with madam shippen," and found musical entertainment to meet with his approval and a relationship between the sexes which had parental sanction. one young miss played on the clavichord, and "miss shippen sang with timidity but a very pretty voice," accompanied for a time by monsieur otto on the harp. dancing followed, noted the marquis, "while mothers and other grave personages conversed in another room."[ ] in new york as in philadelphia teatime was an important part of the younger set's social schedule. eliza bowne, writing to her sister in january , reported that "as to news--new york is not so gay as last winter, few balls but a great many tea-parties."[ ] the feminine interest and participation in such gatherings of personable young men and attractive young women was expressed by nancy shippen[ ] when she wrote in her journal after such a party: "saturday night at o'clock. i had a very large company at tea this evening. the company is but just broke up, i dont know when i spent a more merry even^g. we had music, cards, &c &c." a masculine view of american tea parties was openly voiced by one foreign visitor, prince de broglie, who, upon arrival in america in , "only knew a few words of english, but knew better how to drink excellent tea with even better cream, how to tell a lady she was pretty, and a gentleman he was sensible, by reason whereof i possessed all the elements of social success."[ ] similar feelings were expressed by the comte de ségur during his sojourn in america in the late th century when, in a letter to his wife in france, he wrote: "my health continues excellent, despite the quantity of tea one must drink with the ladies out of gallantry, and of madeira all day long with the men out of politeness."[ ] festive tea parties such as the ones described above are the subject of some of the group portraits or conversation pieces painted about by the english artist william hogarth. _the assembly at wanstead house_, now in the philadelphia museum of art, illustrates quite an elegant affair taking place in a large, richly decorated, english interior. the artist has filled the canvas with people standing and conversing while a seated group plays cards at a table in the center of the room. to one side near the fireplace a man and two women drinking tea are seated at an ornately carved, square tea table with a matching stand for the hot water kettle. on a dish or circular stand in the center of the table is a squat teapot with matching cups and saucers arranged in parallel rows on either side. tea-drinking guests seem to have been free to sit or stand according to their own pleasure or the number of chairs available, and barbé-marbois noted that at american tea parties "people change seats, some go, others come." the written and visual materials offer little in the way of evidence to suggest that in general men stood and women sat during teatime. in fact, places at the tea table were taken by both sexes, even at formal tea parties such as the one depicted in _the assembly at wanstead house_. a less formal but more usual tea scene is the subject of another hogarth painting, _the wollaston family_, now in the leicester art gallery, england. the afternoon gathering has divided into two groups, one playing cards, the other drinking tea. an atmosphere of ease and comfort surrounds the party. the men and women seated at the card table are discussing the hand just played, while the women seated about the square tea table in front of the fireplace are engaged in conversation. a man listens as he stands and stirs his tea. each drinker holds a saucer with a cup filled from the teapot on a square tile or stand in the center of the table. one woman is returning her cup, turned upside down on the saucer, to the table. more about this particular habit later. the same pleasant social atmosphere seen in english paintings seems to have surrounded teatime in america, as the previously cited entries in nancy shippen's journal book suggest. her entry for january , ,[ ] supplies a description that almost matches _the wollaston family_: "a stormy day, alone till the afternoon; & then was honor'd with the company of m^r jones (a gentleman lately from europe) m^r du ponceau, & m^r hollingsworth at tea--we convers'd on a variety of subjects & play^d at whist, upon the whole spent an agreable even^g." tea was not only a beverage of courtship; it also was associated with marriage. both peter kalm, in , and moreau de st. méry, in the 's, report the philadelphia custom of expressing good wishes to a newly married couple by paying them a personal visit soon after the marriage. it was the duty of the bride to serve wine and punch to the callers before noon and tea and wine in the afternoon.[ ] no doubt, make-believe teatime and pretend tea drinking were a part of some children's playtime activities. perhaps many a little girl played at serving tea and dreamed of having a tea party of her own, but few were as fortunate as young peggy livingston who, at about the age of five, was allowed to invite "by card ... young misses" to her own "tea party & ball." she "treated them with all good things, & a violin," wrote her grandfather. there were " coaches at y^e door at when they departed. i was much amused hours."[ ] [illustration: figure .--_conversazioni_, by w. h. bunbury, published . in print and photograph division, library of congress.] tea seems to have been the excuse for many a social gathering, large or small, formal or informal. and sometimes an invitation to drink tea meant a rather elegant party. "that is to say," wrote one cosmopolitan observer of the american scene in the 's, the marquis de chastellux, "to attend a sort of assembly pretty much like the _conversazioni_ [social gathering] of italy; for tea here, is the substitute for the _rinfresco_ [refreshment]."[ ] a view of such an event has been depicted in the english print _conversazioni_ (fig. ), published in . it is hoped that the stiffly seated and solemn-faced guests became more talkative when the tea arrived. however, this tea party may have been like the ones ferdinand bayard attended in bath, virginia, of which he wrote: "the only thing you hear, while they are taking tea, is the whistling sound made by the lips on edges of the cups. this music is varied by the request made to you to have another cup."[ ] at tea parties, cakes, cold pastries, sweetmeats, preserved fruits, and plates of cracked nuts might also be served, according to mrs. anne grant's reminiscences of pre-revolutionary america.[ ] peter kalm noted during his new york sojourn in that "when you paid a visit to any home" a bowl of cracked nuts and one of apples were "set before you, which you ate after drinking tea and even at times while partaking of tea."[ ] sometimes wine and punch were served at teatime, and "in summer," observed barbé-marbois, "they add fruit and other things to drink."[ ] coffee too might be served. as the frenchman claude blanchard explained:[ ] they [the americans] do not take coffee immediately after dinner, but it is served three or four hours afterwards with tea; this coffee is weak and four or five cups are not equal to one of ours; so that they take many of them. the tea, on the contrary, is very strong. this use of tea and coffee is universal in america. dealing with both food and drink at the same time was something of an art. it was also an inconvenience for the uninitiated, and on one occasion ferdinand bayard, a late- th-century observer of american tea ritual, witnessed another guest who, "after having taken a cup [of tea] in one hand and tartlets in the other, opened his mouth and told the servant to fill it for him with smoked venison!"[ ] while foreign visitors recognized that the "greatest mark of courtesy" a host and hostess could offer a guest was a cup of tea, hospitality could be "hot water torture" for foreigners unless they understood the social niceties not only of holding a cup and tartlet, but of declining without offending by turning the cup upside down and placing a spoon upon it. the ceremony of the teaspoon is fully explained by the prince de broglie who, during his visit to philadelphia in , reported the following teatime incident at the home of robert morris:[ ] i partook of most excellent tea and i should be even now still drinking it, i believe, if the [french] ambassador had not charitably notified me at the twelfth cup, that i must put my spoon across it when i wished to finish with this sort of warm water. he said to me: it is almost as ill-bred to refuse a cup of tea when it is offered to you, as it would [be] indiscreet for the mistress of the house to propose a fresh one, when the ceremony of the spoon has notified her that we no longer wish to partake of it. bayard reports that one quick-witted foreigner, uninformed as to the teaspoon signal, had had his cup filled again and again until he finally "decided after emptying it to put it into his pocket until the replenishments had been concluded."[ ] [illustration: figure .--_tea party in the time of george i_, an english painting of about . in collection of colonial williamsburg, inc. the silver equipage includes (left to right) a sugar container and cover, hexagonal tea canister, hot water jug or milk jug, slop bowl, teapot, and (in front) sugar tongs, spoon boat or tray, and spoons. the cups and saucers are chinese export porcelain. (_photo courtesy of colonial williamsburg, inc._)] the gracious art of brewing and serving tea was as much an instrument of sociability as was a bit of music or conversation. this custom received the attention of a number of artists, and it is amazing what careful and detailed treatment they gave to the accessories of tea. we are familiar with the journals, newspaper advertisements, and other writings that provide contemporary reports on this custom, but it is to the artist we turn for a more clearly defined view. the painter saw, arranged, and gave us a visual image--sometimes richly informative, as in _tea party in the time of george i_ (fig. )--of the different tea time items and how they were used. the unknown artist of this painting, done about , has carefully illustrated each piece of equipment considered appropriate for the tea ceremony and used for brewing the tea in the cups held with such grace by the gentleman and child. throughout the th century the well-equipped tea table would have displayed most of the items seen in this painting: a teapot, slop bowl, container for milk or cream, tea canister, sugar container, tongs, teaspoons, and cups and saucers. these pieces were basic to the tea ceremony and, with the addition of a tea urn which came into use during the latter part of the th century, have remained the established tea equipage up to the present day. even a brief investigation of about inventories--itemized lists of the goods and property of deceased persons that were required by law--reveal that in new york between and teapots, cups and saucers, teaspoons, and tea canisters were owned by both low and high income groups in both urban and rural areas. the design and ornament of the tea vessels and utensils, of course, differed according to the fashion of the time, and the various items associated with the beverage provide a good index of the stylistic changes in the th century. the simple designs and unadorned surfaces of the plump pear-shaped teapot in _tea party in the time of george i_ (fig. ) and the spherical one seen in the portrait _susanna truax_ (fig. ) mark these pieces as examples of the late baroque style popular in the early part of the th century. about mid-century, teapots of inverted pear-shape, associated with the rococo style, began to appear. a pot of this shape is depicted in the portrait _paul revere_ painted about by john singleton copley and owned by the museum of fine arts, boston. the fact that a teapot was chosen as an example of revere's craft, from all of the objects he made, indicates that such a vessel was valued as highly by its maker as by its owner. the teapot was a mark of prestige for both craftsman and hostess. apparently the famous silversmith and patriot was still working on the piece, for the nearby tools suggest that the teapot was to have engraved and chased decoration, perhaps of flowers, scrolls, and other motifs typical of the rococo style. the restrained decoration and linear outlines of the teapot illustrated in the print titled _the old maid_ (fig. ) and the straight sides and oval shape of the teapot belonging to a late th-century child's set (fig. ) of chinese export porcelain are characteristics of the neoclassic style that was fashionable at the end of the century. tea drinkers were extremely conscious of fashion changes and, whenever possible, set their tea tables with stylish equipment in the prevailing fashion. newspaper advertisements, journals, letters, and other written materials indicate that utensils in the "best and newest taste" were available, desired, purchased, and used in this country. [illustration: figure .--part of a child's tea set of chinese export porcelain, or "painted china," made about . the painted decoration is of pink roses and rose buds with green leaves; the border is orange, with blue flowers. at one time this set probably included containers for cream or milk and sugar, as did the adult "tea table setts complete." (_usnm ; smithsonian photo -b._)] further verification of the types and kinds of equipage used is supplied by archeological investigations of colonial sites. for instance, sherds or fragments of objects dug from or near the site of a dwelling at marlborough, virginia, owned and occupied by john mercer between and , included a silver teaspoon made about and two teapot tops--one a pewter lid and the other a staffordshire salt-glaze cover made about --as well as numerous pieces of blue-and-white oriental porcelain cups and saucers (fig. ). such archeological data provides concrete proof about tea furnishings used in this country. a comparison of sherds from colonial sites with wares used by the english and of english origin indicates that similar types of equipage were to be found upon tea tables in both countries. this also substantiates the already cited american practice of following english modes and manners, a practice brissot de warville noted in when he wrote that in this country "tea forms, as in england, the basis of the principal parties of pleasures."[ ] [illustration: figure .--fragments of teacups of chinese export porcelain with blue decoration on white, excavated at the site of john mercer's dwelling at marlborough, virginia, - . these sherds, now in the united states national museum, are from cups similar in shape and decoration to the ones depicted in figures and . (_usnm . , . , . ; smithsonian photo -g._)] tea furnishings, when in use, were to be seen upon rectangular tables with four legs, square-top and circle-top tripods, and pembroke tables. such tables were, of course, used for other purposes, but a sampling of th-century boston inventories reveals that in some households all or part of the tea paraphernalia was prominently displayed on the tea table rather than being stored in cupboards or closets. a "japan'd tea table & china" and "a mahog[any] do. & china," both in the "great room," are listed in mrs. hannah pemberton's inventory recorded in boston in . the inventory of joseph blake of boston recorded in lists a "tea table with a sett of china furniture" in the back room of the house, while in the "closett" in the front room were " tea cups & saucers" along with other ceramic wares.[ ] the most popular type of tea table apparently was the circular tripod; that is, a circular top supported on a pillar with three feet. this kind of table is seen again and again in the prints and paintings (figs. , , , ), and is listed in the inventories of the period. these tables, usually of walnut or mahogany, had stationary or tilt tops with plain, scalloped, or carved edges. square or round, tripod or four-legged, the tables were usually placed against the wall of the room until teatime when, in the words of ferdinand bayard, "a mahogany table is brought forward and placed in front of the lady who pours the tea."[ ] this practice is depicted in a number of th-century pictures, with the tea table well out in the room, often in front of a fireplace, and with seated and standing figures at or near the table (fig. ). evidence of such furniture placement in american parlors is recorded in a sketch and note nancy shippen received from one of her beaus, who wrote in part:[ ] ... this evening i passed before your house and seeing company in the parlour i peep'd through the window and saw a considerable tea company, of which by their situation i could only distinguish four persons. you will see the plan of this company upon the next page. [illustration: figure .--a sketch by louis guillaume otto that was enclosed in a letter to nancy shippen of philadelphia about . the sketch indicates the placement of the furniture in the shippen parlor and the location of the tea-party participants. the "explication" accompanying the drawing reads in part: "_a._ old d^r s^{hippen} sitting before the chimney.... _b._ m^r l^{ee} walking up and down, speaking and laughing by intervalls.... _c._ miss n^{ancy} [shippen] before the tea table.... _d._ m^{rs} s^{hippen} lost in sweet meditations. _e. f. g._ some strangers which the spy [mr. otto] could not distinguish. _h._ cyrus [the butler] standing in the middle of the room--half asleep. _i._ m^r o^{tto} standing before the window...." from shippen papers, manuscripts division, library of congress.] in the sketch (fig. ), a floor plan of the shippen parlor, we can see the sofa against the wall between the windows, while chairs and tea table have been moved out in the room. the table is near the fireplace, where miss shippen served the tea. in the th century such an arrangement was first and foremost one of comfort, and perhaps also one of taste. the diary of jacob hiltzheimer indicates that in the first signs of fall were felt on august , for the philadelphian wrote: "this evening it was so cool that we drank tea by the fire."[ ] in the south as in the north, tea--or, at the time of the american revolution its patriotic substitute, coffee--was served by the fire as soon as the first winter winds were felt. philip fithian, while at nomini hall in virginia, wrote in his journal on september , : "the air is clear, cold & healthful. we drank our coffee at the great house very sociably, round a fine fire, the house and air feels like winter again."[ ] [illustration: figure .--_the honeymoon_, by john collett, about . in the midst of a domestic scene replete with homey details, the artist has depicted with care the tea table and its furnishing, including a fashionable tea urn symbolically topped with a pair of affectionate birds. (_photo courtesy of frick art reference library._)] table cloths--usually square white ones (as in fig. ) that showed folds from having been stored in a linen press--were used when tea was served, but it is difficult to say with any certainty if their use depended upon the whim of the hostess, the type of table, or the time of day. a cloth probably was used more often on a table with a plain top than on one with scalloped or carved edges. however, as can be seen in _family group_ (fig. ) and _an english family at tea_ (frontispiece), it was perfectly acceptable to serve tea on a plain-top table without a cloth. apparently such tables were also used at breakfast or morning tea, because benjamin franklin, in a letter from london dated february , , gave the following directions for the use of "six coarse diaper breakfast cloths" which he sent to his wife: "they are to spread on the tea table, for nobody breakfasts here on the naked table, but on the cloth set a large tea board with the cups."[ ] some of the th-century paintings depicting tea tables with cloths do deal with the morning hours, as indicated by their titles or internal evidence, as in _the honeymoon_ (fig. ) painted by john collett about . in this scene of domestic confusion and bliss, a tray or teaboard has been placed on the cloth, illustrating franklin's comment about english breakfast habits. cloths may also be seen in pictures in which the time of day cannot be determined. therefore, the use of a cloth at teatime may in truth have depended upon the hostess's whim if not her pocketbook. in addition, trays or teaboards of various sizes and shapes were sometimes used. they were usually circular or rectangular in form, occasionally of shaped or scalloped outline. some trays were supported upon low feet; others had pierced or fretwork galleries or edges to prevent the utensils from slipping off. wood or metal was the usual material, although ceramic trays were also used. at large gatherings a tray was often employed for passing refreshments (fig. ). "a servant brings in on a silver tray the cups, the sugar bowl, the cream jugs, pats of butter, and smoked meat, which are offered to each individual," explained ferdinand bayard.[ ] the principal use of the tray was, of course, to bring the tea equipage to the table. whether placed on a bare or covered table, it arrived with the various pieces such as cups and saucers, spoons, containers for sugar and cream or milk, tongs, bowls, and dishes arranged about the teapot. [illustration: figure .--pieces of a tea set of crown-derby porcelain, dating about . the cups and saucers, covered sugar bowl, container for cream or milk, plate and bowls are ornamented with gilt borders and a scattering of blue flowers on a white ground (_usnm - ; smithsonian photo -a._)] such tea furnishings of ceramic were sold in sets; that is, all pieces being of the same pattern. newspaper advertisements in the 's specifically mention "tea setts," and later in the century ceramic imports continue to include "beautiful compleat tea-setts" (fig. ). in the early th century, tea sets of silver were uncommon if not actually unique, though pieces were occasionally made to match existing items, and, in this way, a so-called set similar to the pieces seen in _tea party in the time of george i_ (fig. ) could be formed. however, by the latter part of the century the wealthier hostesses were able to purchase from among a "most elegant assortment of silver plate ... compleat tea and coffee services, plain and rich engraved."[ ] when of metal, tea sets (fig. ) usually consisted of a teapot, containers for sugar and cream or milk, and possibly a slop bowl, while ceramic sets, such as the one seen in _family group_ (fig. ), included cups and saucers as well. [illustration: figure .--silver tea set consisting of teapot, sugar bowl, container for cream or milk, and waste bowl, made by john mcmullin, of philadelphia, about . matching coffee and hot water pot made by samuel williamson, also of philadelphia. the letter "g," in fashionable script, is engraved on each piece. (_usnm ; smithsonian photo ._)] while the tea set illustrated in _family group_ appears to have all the basic pieces, it can hardly be considered a "complete" tea set when compared with the following porcelain sets listed in the inventory of james pemberton of boston: one sett burnt [china] cont[aining] cups } & saucers slop bowl tea pot milk pot } boat [for spoons] tea cannister sugar dish } [£] handle cups plate for the tea pot & a } wh[i]t[e] tea pot value } one set blue & white do. contg. cups & } saucers slop bowl plates sugr. dish } tea pot handle cups & white tea pot } [£] value } in addition, the pemberton inventory lists a silver tea pot and " pr. tea tongs & strainer," items that were undoubtedly used with the ceramic sets.[ ] tea sets were even available for the youngest hostess, and the "several compleat tea-table sets of children's cream-colored [ceramic] toys" mentioned in a boston advertisement of no doubt added a note of luxury to make-believe tea parties during playtime.[ ] the pieces in children's tea sets, such as the ones pictured from a child's set of chinese export porcelain (fig. ), usually were like those of regular sets and differed only in size. little miss livingston must have been happy, indeed, when her uncle wrote[ ] that he had sent ... a compleat tea-apparatus for her baby [doll]. her doll may now invite her cousins doll to tea, & parade her teatable in form. this must be no small gratification to her. it would be fortunate if happiness were always attainable with equal ease. the pieces of tea equipage could be purchased individually. for instance, teacups and saucers, which are differentiated in advertisements from both coffee and chocolate cups, regularly appear in lists of ceramic wares offered for sale, such as "very handsome setts of blue and white china tea-cups and saucers," or "enamell'd, pencill'd and gilt (fig. ), red and white, blue and white, enamell'd and scallop'd (fig. ), teacups and saucers."[ ] these adjectives used by th-century salesmen usually referred to the types and the colors of the decorations that were painted on the pieces. "enameled" most likely meant that the decorations were painted over the glaze, and "penciled" may have implied motifs painted with a fine black line of pencil-like appearance, while "gilt," "red and white," and "blue and white" were the colors and types of the decoration. blue and white china was, perhaps, the most popular type of teaware, for it regularly appears in newspaper advertisements and inventories and among sherds from colonial sites (fig. ). [illustration: figure .--cup and saucer of chinese export porcelain with scalloped edges and fluting. the painted decoration of black floral design on the side of the cup is touched with gold; the borders are of intersecting black vines and ribbons. (_usnm ; smithsonian photo -d._)] [illustration: figure .--hand-painted staffordshire creamware teacup excavated at the site of a probable th-century and early th-century china shop in newburyport, massachusetts. decoration consists of a brown band above a vine border with green leaves and blue berries over orange bellflowers. the spiral fluting on the body and the slight scalloping on the edge of this cup are almost identical with that on the cup held by mrs. calmes in figure . (_usnm -b; smithsonian photo -c._)] concerning tea, the abbé robin went so far as to say that "there is not a single person to be found, who does not drink it out of china cups and saucers."[ ] however exaggerated the statement may be, it does reflect the popularity and availability of chinese export porcelain in the post-revolutionary period when americans were at last free to engage in direct trade with the orient. porcelain for the american market was made in a wide variety of forms, as well as in complete dinner and tea sets, and was often decorated to special order. handpainted monograms, insignia of various kinds, and patriotic motifs were especially popular. a tea set decorated in this way was sent to dr. david townsend of boston, a member of the society of the cincinnati, by a fellow member of the society, maj. samuel shaw, american consul at canton. in a letter to townsend from canton, china, dated december , , shaw wrote: accept, my dear friend, as a mark of my esteem and affection, a tea set of porcelain, ornamented with the cincinnati and your cypher. i hope shortly after its arrival to be with you, and in company with your amiable partner, see whether a little good tea improves or loses any part of its flavor in passing from one hemisphere to the other. appended to the letter was the following inventory,[ ] which provides us with a list of the pieces deemed essential for a fashionably set tea table: tea pots & stands sugar bowl & do milk ewer bowl & dish breakfast cups & saucers afternoon do porcelain, however, had long been a part of china-trade cargos to europe and from there to america. the early shipments of tea had included such appropriate vessels for the storage, brewing, and drinking of the herb as tea jars, teapots, and teacups. the latter were small porcelain bowls without handles, a form which the europeans and americans adopted and continued to use throughout the th century for tea, in contrast to the deeper and somewhat narrower cups, usually with handles, in which chocolate and coffee were served. even after europeans learned to manufacture porcelain early in the th century, the ware continued to be imported from china in large quantities and was called by english-speaking people, "china" from its country of origin. porcelain also was referred to as "india china ware," after the english and continental east india companies, the original traders and importers of the ware. "burnt china" was another term used in the th century to differentiate porcelain from pottery. whatever the ware, the teacups and saucers, whether on a tray, the cloth, or a bare table, were usually arranged in an orderly manner about the teapot, generally in rows on a rectangular table or tray and in a circle on a round table or tray. in the english conversation piece painting titled _mr. and mrs. hill in their drawing room_, by arthur devis about , the circular tripod tea table between the couple and in front of the fireplace is set in such a way. the handleless teacups on saucers are neatly arranged in a large semicircle around the rotund teapot in the center that is flanked on one side by a bowl and on the other by a jug for milk or cream and a sugar container. generally, cups and saucers were not piled one upon the other but spread out on the table or tray where they were filled with tea and then passed to each guest. [illustration: figure .--_the old maid_, an english cartoon published in . in print and photograph division, library of congress. although the englishwoman apparently is defying established tea etiquette by drinking from a saucer and allowing the cat on the table, her tea furnishings appear to be in proper order. the teapot is on a dish and the teakettle is on its own special stand, a smaller version of the tripod tea table.] pictures show male and female guests holding both cup and saucer or just the cup. an english satirical print, _the old maid_ (fig. ), published in , was the only illustration found that depicted an individual using a dish for tea, or, to be exact, a saucer. in the th century a dish of tea was in reality a cup of tea, for the word "dish" meant a cup or vessel used for drinking as well as a utensil to hold food at meals. a play on this word is evident in the following exchange reported by philip fithian between himself and mrs. carter, the mistress of nomini hall, one october forenoon in : "shall i help you, mr. fithian, to a dish of coffee?--i choose a deep plate, if you please ma'am, & milk."[ ] the above suggests that the practice of saucer sipping, while it may have been common among the general public, was frowned upon by polite society. the fact that americans preferred and were "accustomed to eat everything hot" further explains why tea generally was drunk from the cup instead of the saucer. according to peter kalm, "when the english women [that is, of english descent] drank tea, they never poured it out of the cup into the saucer to cool it, but drank it as hot as it came from the teapot."[ ] later in the century another naturalist, c. f. volney, also noted that "very hot tea" was "beloved by americans of english descent."[ ] from this it would appear that "dish of tea" was an expression rather than a way of drinking tea in the th century. on the table a saucer seems always to have been placed under the cup whether the cup was right side up or upside down. [illustration: figure .--_mrs. calmes_, by g. frymeier, . in calmes-wright-johnson collection, chicago historical society. the cup and saucer (or bowl), possibly hand-decorated staffordshire ware or chinese export porcelain, are decorated with dark blue bands and dots, wavy brown band, and a pink rose with green foliage. (_photo courtesy of chicago historical society._)] teaspoons, when in use, might be placed on the saucer or left in the cups. the portrait titled _mrs. calmes_ (fig. ), painted by g. frymeier in , indicates that handling a cup with the spoon in it could be accomplished with a certain amount of grace. teaspoons also were placed in a pile on the table or in a silver "boat for tea spoons," or more often in such ceramic containers as "delph ware ... spoon trays," or blue-and-white or penciled china "spoon boats."[ ] [illustration: figure .--silver tongs in the rococo style, made by jacob hurd, of boston, about . (_usnm ; smithsonian photo ._)] tongs were especially suited for lifting the lumps of sugar from their container to the teacup. during the th century both arched and scissor type tongs were used. instead of points, the latter had dainty flat grips for holding a lump of sugar (fig. ). the early arched tongs were round in section, as are the pair illustrated in _tea party in the time of george i_ (fig. ), while tongs made by arching or bending double a flat strip of silver (fig. ) date from the second half of the th century. these articles of tea equipage, variously known as "tongs," "tea tongs," "spring tea tongs," and "sugar tongs," were usually made of silver, though "ivory and wooden tea-tongs" were advertised in .[ ] according to the prints and paintings of the period, tongs were placed in or near the sugar container. teaspoons were also used for sugar, as illustrated in the painting _susanna truax_ (fig. ). perhaps young miss truax is about to indulge in a custom favored by the dutch population of albany as reported by peter kalm in : "they never put sugar into the cup, but take a small bit of it into their mouths while they drink."[ ] [illustration: figure .--silver tongs made by william g. forbes, of new york, about . in the united states national museum. the engraved decoration of intersecting lines is typical of the neoclassic style. a variant of this motif appears as the painted border on a porcelain cup and saucer of the same period (fig. ). (_usnm . ; smithsonian photo -a._)] shallow dishes, such as the one seen in the portrait _susanna truax_, and hemispherical bowls were used as containers for sugar. often called "sugar dishes" or just "sugars," they were available in delftware, glass (fig. ), and silver as well as in blue-and-white, burnt, enameled, and penciled china. some containers were sold with covers, and it has been suggested that the saucer-shaped cover of the hemispherical sugar dish or bowl, fashionable in the first half of the th century, also served as a spoon tray. however, in the painting _tea party in the time of george i_ (fig. ) the cover is leaning against the bowl and the spoons are in an oval spoon tray or boat. another possibility, if the lid was multipurpose, is that it was used as a dish or stand under the teapot to protect the table top. silver sugar boxes, basins, and plated sugar baskets were other forms used to hold sugar,[ ] which, in whatever container, was a commodity important to the americans. as moreau de st. méry noted, they "use great quantities in their tea."[ ] [illustration: figure .--stiegel-type, cobalt-blue glass sugar dish with cover, made about . (_usnm ; smithsonian photo -d._)] containers for cream or milk may be seen in many of the th-century teatime pictures and are found in the advertisements of the period under a variety of names. there were cream pots of glass and pewter and silver (figs. and ), jugs of penciled and burnt china, and in the 's one could obtain "enameled and plain three footed cream jugs" from mr. henry william stiegel's glass factory at manheim, pennsylvania. there were cream pails, urns, and ewers of silver plate, and plated cream basins "gilt inside."[ ] milk pots, used on some tea tables instead of cream containers, were available in silver, pewter, ceramic, and "sprig'd, cut and moulded" glass.[ ] although contemporary diarists and observers of american customs seem not to have noticed whether cream was served cold and milk hot, or if tea drinkers were given a choice between cream and milk, the prince de broglie's comment already cited concerning his ability to drink "excellent tea with even better cream" and the predominance of cream over milk containers in th-century advertisements would seem to indicate that in this country cream rather than milk was served with tea in the afternoon. [illustration: figure .--silver creamer made by myer myers, of new york, about . the fanciful curves of the handle and feet are related to the rococo design of the sugar tongs in figure . (_usnm ; smithsonian photo -f._)] [illustration: figure .--silver creamer made by simeon a. bayley, of new york, about . the only ornamentation is the engraving of the initials "r m" below the pouring lip. (_usnm ; smithsonian photo -e._)] while the americans, as the europeans, added cream or milk and sugar to their tea, the use of lemon with the beverage is questionable. nowhere is there any indication that the citrus fruit was served or used with tea in th-century america. punch seems to have been the drink with which lemons were associated. often a medium-sized bowl, usually hemispherical in shape, is to be seen on the tea table, and it is most likely a slop bowl or basin. according to advertisements these bowls and basins were available in silver, pewter, and ceramic.[ ] before a teacup was replenished, the remaining tea and dregs were emptied into the slop bowl. then the cup might be rinsed with hot water and the rinsing water discarded in the bowl. the slop basin may also have been the receptacle for the mote or foreign particles--then inherent in tea but now extracted by mechanical means--that had to be skimmed off the beverage in the cup. in england this was probably done with a small utensil known to present day collectors as a mote spoon or mote skimmer. although the exact purpose of these spoons remains unsettled, it seems likely that they were used with tea. it has been suggested that the perforated bowl of the spoon was used for skimming foreign particles off the tea in the cup and the tapering spike-end stem to clear the clogged-up strainer of the teapot spout. the almost complete absence of american-made mote spoons suggests that these particular utensils were seldom used here. possibly the "skimmer" advertised in with other silver tea pieces was such a spoon.[ ] no doubt, tea strainers (fig. ) were also used to insure clear tea. the tea dregs might then be discarded in the slop bowl or left in the strainer and the strainer rested on the bowl. however, only a few contemporary american advertisements and inventories have been found which mention tea strainers.[ ] punch strainers, though generally larger in size, seem to have doubled as tea strainers in some households. the inventory of charles brockwell of boston includes a punch strainer which is listed not with the wine glasses and other pieces associated with punch but with the tea items: " small do. [china] milk pot tea pot cups & saucers & punch strainer."[ ] presumably, the strainer had last been used for tea. [illustration: figure .--silver strainer made by james butler, of boston, about . the handle's pierced pattern of delicate, curled vines distinguishes this otherwise plain strainer. (_usnm ; smithsonian photo -j._)] the teapot was, of course, the very center of the social custom of drinking tea; so, it usually was found in the center of the tray or table. at first, only teapots of oriental origin imported with the cargos of tea were available, for the teapot had been unknown to europeans before the introduction of the beverage. however, as tea gained acceptance as a social drink and the demand for equipage increased, local craftsmen were stimulated to produce wares that could compete with the chinese imports. teapots based on chinese models and often decorated with chinese motifs were fashioned in ceramic and silver. no doubt many an th-century hostess desired a silver teapot to grace her table and add an elegant air to the tea ceremony. a lottery offering one must have raised many a hope, especially if, as an advertisement of announced, the "highest prize consists of an eight square tea-pot," as well as "six tea-spoons, skimmer and tongs." by the end of the century "an elegant silver tea-pot with an ornamental lid, resembling a pine-apple" would have been the wish of a fashion-conscious hostess. less expensive than silver, but just as stylish according to the merchants' advertisements were "newest fashion teapots" of pewter or, in the late th century, britannia metal teapots. the latest mode in ceramic ware also was to be found upon the tea table. in the mid- th century it was "english brown china tea-pots of sorts, with a rais'd flower" (probably the ceramic with a deep, rich brown glaze known today as jackfield-type ware), "black," "green and tortois" (a pottery glazed with varigated colors in imitation of tortoise shell), and "enameled stone" teapots. at the time of the american revolution, teaware imports included "egyptian, etruscan, embossed red china, agate, green, black, colliflower, white, and blue and white stone enamelled, striped, fluted, pierced and plain queen's ware tea pots."[ ] sometimes the teapot, whether ceramic, pewter, or silver, was placed upon a dish or small, tile-like stand with feet. these teapot stands served as insulation by protecting the surface of the table or tray from the damaging heat of the teapot. stands often were included in tea sets but also were sold individually, such as the "pencil'd china ... tea pot stands," advertised in , and the "teapot stands" of "best london plated ware" imported in .[ ] the stands must have been especially useful when silver equipage was set on a bare table top; many of the silver teapots of elliptical shape with a flat base, so popular in the latter part of the th century, had matching stands raised on short legs to protect the table from the expanse of hot metal. on occasion the teapot was placed on a spirit lamp or burner to keep the beverage warm. in most instances it was the hot water kettle that sat upon a spirit lamp or burner rather than a teapot. kettles were usually related to the form of contemporary teapots, but differed in having a swing handle on top and a large, rather flat base that could be placed over the flame. advertisements mention teakettles of copper, pewter, brass, and silver, some "with lamps and stands."[ ] the actual making of tea was part of the ceremony and was usually done by the hostess at the tea table. this necessitated a ready supply of boiling water close at hand to properly infuse the tea and, as ferdinand bayard reported, it also "weakens the tea or serves to clean up the cups."[ ] thus, the kettle and burner on their own individual table or stand were placed within easy reach of the tea table. according to th-century pictures the kettle was an important part of the tea setting, but it seldom appeared on the tea table. special stands for kettles generally were made in the same form as the tea tables, though smaller in scale (fig. ). the square stands often had a slide on which to place the teapot when the hot water was poured into it. both pictures and advertisements reveal that by the 's the tea urn was a new form appearing at teatime in place of the hot water kettle. contrary to its name, the tea urn seldom held tea. these large silver or silver-plated vessels, some of which looked like vases with domed covers, usually had two handles on the shoulders and a spout with a tap in the front near the bottom. "ponty pool, japanned, crimson, and gold-striped roman tea urns" imported from europe were among the fashionable teawares advertised at the end of the th century.[ ] the urn might be placed on a stand of its own near the table or on the tray or table in the midst of the other equipage as it is in the painting titled _the honeymoon_ (fig. ). wherever placed, it signified the newest mode in teatime furnishings. one baltimorean, o. h. williams, in a letter dated april , , to a close friend, enthusiastically explained that "tea & coffee urns plated (mine are but partially plated and are extremely neat) are the genteelest things of the sort used now at any house & tables inferior to the first fortunes."[ ] [illustration: figure .--the sign of "the tea canister and two sugar loaves" used by a new york grocer and confectioner in the 's. other "tea" motifs for shop signs in the th century included "the teapot," used by a philadelphia goldsmith in , and "the tea kettle and stand," which marked the shop of a charleston jeweller in .] the tea canister (fig. ), a storage container for the dry tea leaves, was yet another piece of equipment to be found on the table or tray. ceramic canisters of blue and white, and red and gold, could be purchased to match other tea furnishings of the same ware, and silver tea canisters often were fashioned to harmonize with the silver teapots of the period. individual canisters were produced, as well as canisters in sets of two or three. a set of canisters usually was kept in the box in which it came, a case known as a tea chest or tea caddy, such as the "elegant assortment of tea-caddies, with one, two and three canisters" advertised in .[ ] canister tops if dome-shaped were used to measure out the tea and transfer it to the teapot. otherwise, small, short-handled spoons with broad, shallow bowls known as caddy spoons and caddy ladles were used. however handled, the tea could have been any one of the numerous kinds available in the th century. although hyson, soughong, and congo, the names inscribed on the canister in figure , may have been favored, there were many other types of tea, as the following advertisement from the _boston news-letter_ of september , , indicates:[ ] to be sold ... at the three sugar loaves, and cannister ... very choice teas, viz: bohea tea from s. to s. per pound, congou tea, s. pekoe tea, s. per pound, green tea from s. to s. per pound, fine imperial tea from s. to s. per pound. in the th century tea drinking was an established social custom with a recognized etiquette and distinctive equipage as we know from the pictures and writings of the period. at teatime men and women gathered to pursue leisurely conversations and enjoy the sociability of the home. a study of _an english family at tea_ (frontispiece) will summarize the etiquette and equipage of the ritual-- on the floor near the table is a caddy with the top open, showing one canister of a pair. the mistress of the house, seated at the tea table, is measuring out dry tea leaves from the other canister into its lid. members of the family stand or sit about the square tea table while they observe this first step in the ceremony. a maidservant stands ready with the hot water kettle to pour the boiling water over the leaves once they are in the teapot. in the background is the tripod kettle stand with a lamp, where the kettle will be placed until needed to rinse the cups or dilute the tea. not seen in this detail of the painting is the entry of a male servant who is carrying a tall silver pot, which may have contained chocolate or coffee. these two other social beverages of the th century were served in cups of a deep cylindrical shape, like the three seen on the end of the table. the shallow, bowl-shaped, handleless teacups and the saucers are arranged in a neat row along one side of the table. the teapot rests on a square tile-like stand or dish that protects the table from the heat. nearby is a bowl to receive tea dregs, a pot for cream or milk, and a sugar bowl. the teatime ritual has begun. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ chronological list of pictures consulted ca. _portrait group of gentlemen and a child._ believed to be english or dutch. reproduced in ralph edwards, _early conversation pictures from the middle ages to about _, london, , p. , no. . ca. _the tea-table._ english. reproduced in _the connoisseur period guides: the stuart period, - _, edited by ralph edwards and l. g. g. ramsey, new york, , p. . ca. _a family taking tea._ english. reproduced in edwards, _early conversation pictures_, p. , no. . _two ladies and a gentleman at tea._ attributed to nicolaas verkolje, dutch. reproduced in edwards, _early conversation pictures_, p. , no. . _an english family at tea_ (frontispiece). joseph van aken(?). reproduced in percy macquoid and ralph edwards, _the dictionary of english furniture_, revised and enlarged by ralph edwards, london, , vol. , p. , fig. . ca. _tea party in the time of george i_ (fig. ). english. reproduced in _antiques_, november , vol. , p. vi following p. . ca. _the assembly at wanstead house._ by william hogarth, english. reproduced in edwards, _early conversation pictures_, p. , no. . _family._ by william hogarth, english. reproduced in r. h. wilenski, _english painting_, london, , pl. a. _family group_ (fig. ). by gawen hamilton, english. reproduced in _antiques_, march , vol. , p. . _a family party._ by william hogarth, english. reproduced in _english conversation pictures of the eighteenth and early nineteenth century_, edited by g. c. williamson, london, , pl. . _susanna truax_ (fig. ). american. reproduced in _art in america_, may , vol. , p. . _the wollaston family._ by william hogarth, english. reproduced in edwards, _early conversation pictures_, p. , no. . painting on lobed, square delft tea tray. dutch. reproduced in c. h. de jonge, _oud-nederlandsche majolica en delftsch aardewerk_, amsterdam, , p. , fig. . _a tea party at the countess of portland's._ by charles philips, english. reproduced in edwards, _early conversation pictures_, p. , no. . _thomas wentworth, earl of strafford, with his family._ by gawen hamilton, english. reproduced in edwards, _early conversation pictures_, p. , no. . ca. _the western family._ by william hogarth, english. reproduced in sacheverell sitwell, _conversation pieces_, new york, , no. . ca. _the strode family._ by william hogarth, english. reproduced in oliver brackett, _english furniture illustrated_, new york, , p. , pl. . ca. _the carter family._ by joseph highmore, english. reproduced in _connoisseur_, christmas , vol. , p. xlv (advertisement). painting on lobed, circular bristol delft tea tray. english. reproduced in f. h. garner, _english delftware_, new york, , pl. . ca. _burkat shudi and his family._ english. reproduced in philip james, _early keyboard instruments from their beginnings to the year _, new york, , pl. . _shortly after marriage_, from _marriage a la mode_ series. by william hogarth, english. reproduced in _masterpieces of english painting_, chicago, , pl. . ca. _the gascoigne family._ by francis hayman, english. reproduced in _apollo_, october , vol. , p. vii (advertisement). ca. _mr. and mrs. hill in their drawing room._ by arthur devis, english. reproduced in _the antique collector_, june , vol. , p. . ca. _the honeymoon_ (fig. ). by john collett, english. photograph courtesy of frick art reference library, new york. ca. _paul revere._ by john singleton copley, american. reproduced in john marshall phillips, _american silver_, new york, , frontispiece. ca. _lord willoughby and family._ by john zoffany, english. reproduced in lady victoria manners and dr. g. c. williamson, _john zoffany, r. a._, london, , plate preceding p. . _mr. and mrs. garrick at tea._ by john zoffany, english. reproduced in manners and williamson, _john zoffany, r. a._, plate facing p. . _sir john hopkins and family._ by john zoffany, english. reproduced in manners and williamson, _john zoffany, r. a._, second plate following p. . _the squire's tea._ by benjamin wilson, english. reproduced in _antiques_, october , vol. , p. . _a society of patriotic ladies_ (fig. ). engraving published by r. sayer and j. bennet, london. print and photograph division, library of congress. _the old maid_ (fig. ). english. print and photograph division, library of congress. ca. _the tea party._ by william hamilton, english. reproduced in _art in america_, may , vol. , p. (advertisement). _conversazioni_ (fig. ). by w. h. bunbury, english. print and photograph division, library of congress. ca. _the auriol family_ [_in india_]. by john zoffany, english. reproduced in manners and williamson, _john zoffany, r. a._, plate facing p. . _dr. johnson takes tea at boswell's house._ by thomas rowlandson, english. reproduced in charles cooper, _the english table in history and literature_, london, , plate facing p. . ca. _black monday or the departure for school._ engraved by j. jones after bigg, english. reproduced in _antiques_, september , vol. , p. (advertisement). _tea at the pantheon._ by edward edwards, english. reproduced in william harrison ukers, _the romance of tea_, new york, , plate facing p. . _mrs. calmes_ (fig. ). by g. frymeier, american. reproduced in _antiques_, november , vol. , p. . ------------------------------------------------------------------------ footnotes footnote : claude c. robin, _new travels through north america: in a series of letters ... in the year _, boston, , p. . footnote : _mercurius politicus_, september - , . footnote : edward wenham, "tea and tea things in england," _antiques_, october , vol. , p. . footnote : samuel sewall, _diary of samuel sewall, - _, reprinted in _collections of the massachusetts historical society_, , ser. , vol. , p. . footnote : john marshall phillips, _american silver_, new york, , p. . footnote : jacques pierre brissot de warville, _new travels in the united states of america performed in _, london, , p. . footnote : peter kalm, _the america of . peter kalm's travels in north america_, edited and translated by adolph b. benson, new york, , vol. , p. , vol. , p. . footnote : baron cromot du bourg, "journal de mon séjour en amérique," _magazine of american history_ ( - ), quoted in charles h. sherrill, _french memories of eighteenth-century america_, new york, , p. . footnote : marquis de chastellux, _voyages de m. le marquis de chastellux dans l'amérique septentrionale_, paris, , quoted in sherrill, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : kalm, _op. cit._ (footnote ), vol. , p. . footnote : israel acrelius, _a history of new sweden; or, the settlements on the river delaware_, translated and edited by william m. reynolds, philadelphia, , p. . footnote : letter from m. jacquelin, york, virginia, to john norton, london, august , . in, _john norton and sons, merchants of london and virginia, being the papers from their counting house for the years to _, edited by frances norton mason, richmond, , p. . footnote : letter from gilbert barkly to directors of the east india company, may , . _tea leaves: being a collection of letters and documents ..._, edited by francis s. drake, boston, , p. . footnote : philip vickers fithian, _journal and letters of philip vickers fithian, - ; a plantation tutor of the old dominion_, edited by hunter dickinson farish, williamsburg, , pp. , - . footnote : r. t. h. halsey and charles o. cornelius, _a handbook of the american wing_, new york, , pp. - . footnote : léon chotteau, _les français en amérique_, paris, , quoted in sherrill, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : médéric louis elie moreau de saint-méry, _moreau de st. méry's american journey_, translated and edited by kenneth roberts and anna m. roberts, garden city, , p. . footnote : claude blanchard, _the journal of claude blanchard, commissary of the french auxiliary army sent to the united states during the american revolution, - _, translated by william duane and edited by thomas balch, albany, , pp. , . footnote : moreau de saint-méry, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : françois, marquis de barbé-marbois, _our revolutionary forefathers. the letters of françois, marquis de barbé-marbois during his residence in the united states as secretary of the french legation - _, translated and edited by eugene parker chase, new york, , p. . footnote : nancy shippen, _nancy shippen, her journal book_, edited by ethel armes, philadelphia, , pp. , , . footnote : chastellux, _op. cit._ (footnote ), quoted in sherrill, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : eliza southgate bowne, _a girl's life eighty years ago. selections from the letters of eliza southgate bowne_, edited by clarence cook, new york, , p. . footnote : shippen, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : prince de broglie, "journal du voyage," _mélanges de la société des bibliophiles français_, paris, , quoted in sherrill, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : comte de ségur, _mémoires, ou souvenires et anecdotes_, paris, , quoted in sherrill, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : shippen, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : kalm, _op. cit._ (footnote ), vol. , p. ; moreau de saint-méry, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : shippen, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : françois jean, marquis de chastellux, _travels in north america in the years - - _, new york, , p. . footnote : ferdinand marie bayard, _travels of a frenchman in maryland and virginia, with a description of philadelphia and baltimore in _, translated and edited by ben c. mccary, ann arbor, , p. . footnote : mrs. anne grant, _memoirs of an american lady, with sketches of manners and scenery in america, as they existed previous to the revolution_, new york, , p. . footnote : kalm, _op. cit._ (footnote ), vol. , p. . footnote : barbé-marbois, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : blanchard, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : ferdinand m. bayard, _voyage dans l'intérieur des etats-unis_, paris, , quoted in sherrill, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : claude victor marie, prince de broglie, "narrative of the prince de broglie," translated by e. w. balch in _magazine of american history_, april , vol. i, p. . footnote : bayard, _op. cit._ (footnote ), quoted in sherrill, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : brissot de warville, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : suffolk county [massachusetts] probate court record books (hereinafter cited as suffolk county record books), vol. , p. , inventory of mrs. hannah pemberton, boston, june , ; vol. , p. , inventory of joseph blake, boston, september , . among other inventories in suffolk county record books listing tea tables with tea equipment thereon were those of sendal williams, boston, march , (vol. , p. ); revd. dr. benja. colman, boston, september , (vol. , p. ); mr. nathl. cunningham, february , (vol. , p. ); joseph snelling, boston, december , (vol. , p. ); eliza. chaunay, boston, may , (vol. , p. ); gillam tailer, boston, october , (vol. , p. ); jon. skimmer, boston, october , (vol. , p. ). footnote : bayard, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : letter from [louis guillaume] otto [to nancy shippen], undated, shippen papers, box , manuscripts division, library of congress. the letter is dated about by ethel armes, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : jacob hiltzheimer, _extracts from the diary of jacob hiltzheimer of philadelphia, - _, edited by jacob cox parsons, philadelphia, , p. . footnote : fithian, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : benjamin franklin, letter to mrs. deborah franklin, dated february , , london. _the writings of benjamin franklin_, edited by albert henry smyth, new york, , vol. , p. . footnote : bayard, _op. cit._ (footnote ), quoted in sherrill, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : _boston gazette_, april , ; _boston news-letter_, june , ; _the new-york gazette_, january , . these and other newspaper references have been taken variously from the following sources: george francis dow, _the arts and crafts in new england, - _, topsfield, massachusetts, ; rita susswein gottesman, _the arts and crafts in new york, - _, new york, , and _the arts and crafts in new york, - _, new york, ; and alfred coxe prime, _the arts and crafts in philadelphia, maryland, and south carolina, - _, topsfield, massachusetts, . footnote : suffolk county record books, vol. , p. , inventory of james pemberton, boston, april , . footnote : _boston news-letter_, november , . footnote : shippen, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : _boston news-letter_, october , ; _maryland journal_, november , . footnote : robin, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : w. stephen thomas, "major samuel shaw and the cincinnati porcelain," _antiques_, may , vol. , p. . the letter and tea set are exhibited at deerfield, massachusetts, by the heritage foundation. footnote : fithian, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : kalm, _op. cit._ (footnote ), vol. , p. . footnote : c. f. volney, _tableau du climat et du sol des etats-unis_, paris, , quoted in sherrill, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : _boston news-letter_, march , , november , , and april , ; _new-york journal_, august , . footnote : _new-york gazette_, april , ; _boston gazette_, june , ; _boston news-letter_, january , ; _maryland gazette_, may , ; _pennsylvania journal_, december , . footnote : kalm, _op. cit._ (footnote ), vol. , p. . footnote : _boston news-letter_, april , , november , , and january , ; _new-york gazette_, february , ; _pennsylvania gazette_, january , ; _rivington's new york gazeteer_, january , ; _new-york journal_, august , ; _boston gazette_, september , ; _new-york daily advertiser_, january , . footnote : moreau de saint-méry, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : _new-york gazette_, february , ; _boston gazette_, may , ; _maryland gazette_, january , ; _new-york journal_, august , ; _pennsylvania gazette_, july , , and october , ; _boston news-letter_, april , , and january , ; _new-york daily advertiser_, january , . footnote : _new-york mercury_, october , ; _pennsylvania journal_, april , ; _boston news-letter_, january , ; _new-york gazette_, december , . footnote : _pennsylvania gazette_, january , ; _pennsylvania journal_, april , ; _independent journal_ [new york], july , . footnote : _new-york gazette_, april , . footnote : _maryland gazette_, january , ; _pennsylvania chronicle_, january , ; suffolk county record books, vol. , p. , inventory of john procter, may , . footnote : suffolk county record books, vol. , p. , inventory of revd. charles brockwell, may , . footnote : quotations variously from _new-york gazette_, april , , august , ; _commercial advertiser_ [new york], oct. , ; _boston gazette_, july , ; _new-york daily advertiser_, may , ; _boston news-letter_, october , ; _pennsylvania evening post_, july , . footnote : _new-york journal_, august , ; _new-york daily advertiser_, january , . footnote : _pennsylvania packet_, may , ; _american weekly mercury_ [philadelphia], january ; _boston gazette_, may , , and september , ; _pennsylvania journal_, august , . footnote : bayard, _op. cit._ (footnote ), quoted in sherrill, _op. cit._ (footnote ), p. . footnote : _new-york daily advertiser_, may , . footnote : letter from o[tho] holland williams to dr. philip thomas, april , , williams papers, vol. , letter no. . manuscript, maryland historical society, baltimore, maryland. footnote : _boston news-letter_, april , ; _pennsylvania gazette_, october , ; _minerva, & mercantile evening advertiser_ [new york], august , . footnote : _boston news-letter_, september , . ------------------------------------------------------------------------ for sale by the superintendent of documents, u.s. government printing office washington , d.c.--price cents u.s. government printing office, --------------------- transcriber's note: . the footnotes, originally printed at the bottom of pages, were moved to the back of the book. . spacing within some citations was made more consistent. except for that, and the cases mentioned below, this book retains the spelling and punctuation of the original: a. the title "comte de ségur" was mentioned twice, once spelled "segur." this was changed "ségur" for consistency. home life in all lands sixth impression _home life in all lands_ _by charles morris_ book i how the world lives "it is the most intimate, and gives us the best idea of the ordinary life of these strange people to whom our author introduces us. the volume is both interesting and valuable in an unusual degree. a capital book for school or home." --_the school journal, new york._ _one hundred and twelve illustrations. pages._ book ii manners and customs of uncivilized peoples "excellent for school or home use. this volume deals with the manners and customs of uncivilized peoples. the illustrations are well chosen and the style is admirable."--_providence journal._ _one hundred illustrations. pages._ book iii animal friends and helpers _fully illustrated. pages._ j. b. lippincott company publishers philadelphia [illustration: reproduced by permission of the philadelphia museums. transport elephants, perak, federated malay states] home life in all lands by charles morris author of "historical tales," "history of the world," "history of the united states," etc. book iii. animal friends and helpers _illustrated_ [illustration] philadelphia & london j. b. lippincott company copyright, , by j. b. lippincott company printed in united states of america preface in the earlier volumes of this series, man, as the maker of and dweller in the home, was dealt with in the varied aspects of his existence. but man is not the only occupant of the home. he has brought around him an interesting family of animals of great variety in form and habit, many of them kept as pets and companions, many aiding him in his sports and his labors, others supplying him with meat, milk, butter, eggs and other forms of food. it is a varied and active sub-family of the household, the barnyard and field with which we here propose to deal, its inmates varying in size from the lordly elephant to the busy bee, and in intelligence from the wide-awake dog to the stupid sheep, a multitude of running, flying, and swimming forms brought together from every domain of nature and serving man in a hundred ways. the full story of this wider family of the home would be a long one. these humbler animals have a life of their own as interesting in its way as that of man, their master and friend. we cannot tell it all in the small space at our command, but the little we have here brought together concerning the varieties and habits of our household animals must have some considerable degree of interest to readers. this is especially the case with the many stories that can be told of their powers of thought and special habits and modes of action, and the reader will find here many striking anecdotes of animal intelligence selected out of the multitude that are on record. the story of the whole animal kingdom is pleasing and instructive, and that of the domestic animals, those which have come under man's special care, is specially so, as it is hoped the readers of this work will discover. illustrations have been secured from a large variety of sources, a number, picturing the rarer animals, being reproduced from "chambers' encyclopedia." contents chapter page i household pets and comrades the dog, man's faithful friend the many kinds of dogs anecdotes of dog wit and wisdom the cat, our fireside inmate other four-footed pets ii our single-hoofed helpers the horse in all lands racer and hunter war-horse and working-horse the horse tamer the arab and his horse anecdotes of the horse the ass, zebra, and mule iii cloven-hoofed draught animals the ox and buffalo the lapland reindeer the ship of the desert the dromedary the llama and alpaca the arctic beast of burden the elephant in man's service anecdotes of the elephant iv animals which yield food to man the cattle of the field milk-giving cows beef-making cattle in the bull ring the wool-clad sheep wool shearing and weaving the bearded goat in the pig-sty v the birds of the poultry yard the hen and its brood the game-cock and its battles the web-footed duck and goose the turkey and guinea-fowl the swan, an image of grace the proud and gaudy peacock the dove-like pigeon the ostrich and its splendid plumes vi winged and tuneful home pets the canary and its song the marvellous mocking bird other caged songsters the parrot as a talker other talking birds vii our cousin, the monkey the monkey as a pet how monkeys take revenge imitation, a monkey trait the kinds of monkeys how monkeys teach themselves anecdotes of the ape feeling and friendliness in the monkey viii other animals used as pets pets of the aquarium snake charmers the mongoose and other small animals hawking or falconry ix wild animals in man's service the dancing bear the seal and the alligator the stork, cormorant, and albatross the honey-giving bee list of illustrations page bird dogs "pointing" partridges fox cubs at mouth of den beagle hound chasing a rat scottish shepherd dog gathering his flock the st. bernard dog and his friends a funny quartette of pekingese puppies hounds overtaking a fox the dog guardian. "can you talk" a dog team hauling milk in antwerp deerhound, rossie ralph the mother cat and her playful brood the canada lynx, the house cat's "cousin" ready for business the hungry babes and playful kitten rabbits near their burrow the otter, one of nature's fishers a guinea-pig. pig only by name, not by nature friends and comrades rosa bonheur's famous picture of the horse fair pure bred clydesdale draft horse a roman chariot race thoroughbred racing horse virginia deer a logging team with a heavy load the famous arab steeds and desert riders a pair of prize mules mexican donkey waiting for the last straw the striped zebra of africa the native ox cart of delhi, india hauling sugar cane in puerto rico the white yak of the asiatic mountains the american bison alone on the prairie cultivating rice field with the chinese ox. hawaii the carabao herd of reindeer a sahara desert scene a rug laden caravan camel hauling water yaks picketed near camp in india a llama train descending the mountains of peru dog train hauling provision in northern canada alaskan dog team--the winter mail carriers elephant piling lumber a military elephant on duty. india a state elephant of india with howdah making friends with a guernsey calf back to the pasture after the milking the holstein cow, a great milk giver ox team and native cart, with wooden wheels an ox-team on a florida plantation carting manila hemp. philippine islands moose in harness cattle and sheep of the scottish highlands the merino ram, the great wool bearer the alpine ibex milk goats in the alps a pair of angora goats the wart hog a fat berkshire hog the razor-back hog of the south animals of the farm and poultry yard feeding the chickens in the farm-yard english dorking cock and hen willie and his pet ducks an assault by hungry geese gander hissing at an enemy driving turkeys to market the black swan of australia the graceful white swan swimming the peacock, the most gorgeous of home birds pigeon types. carrier and short faced tumbler on a california ostrich farm the mocking bird the white-faced parrot a gray parrot on his perch the starling feeding monkeys at the zoölogical garden a pair of midget donkeys the orang outang in the hands of his keeper an afternoon chat the fantail hindu snake charmers with the deadly cobras the mongoose the common hedgehog with his battery of spines the three-banded armadillo a friendly gray squirrel a hooded peregrine falcon leg and foot of falcon showing fastening grizzly bear cub the harp-seal afloat on the ice the savage florida alligator the stork in its feeding grounds the cormorant, the fishing bird of china the albatross swooping over the ocean waves an opened bee hive showing the clustering bees home life in all lands i household pets and comrades how few of us can go into the house without their coming to meet us: the frisky dog, with its wagging tail; the sleek and soft-footed cat, with its mellow purr. on her swinging perch sits mistress parrot, greeting us with her noisy "polly wants a cracker." in its gilded cage flirts the golden-hued canary, singing loudly to bid us welcome. they give life and joy to the most rustic home, these pets of the household, our glad though humble friends and guests. if we go out of the house into the stable-yard or the pasture-field we meet others of them: the noble horse, the patient and docile cow, the woolly sheep, the sturdy goat. in the poultry-yard still others meet us: the cackling hen, proud of her new-laid egg; the crowing rooster, the quacking duck, the gracefully swimming goose or swan, the peacock with its splendid tail, even the buzzing bee, flying home laden with wax and honey. if all our human friends should desert us, the dog would cling to us still. carlo's faith and trust were true in all the ills of life. the ragged beggar finds a loving friend in his dog. roger the dog may be as ragged and forlorn as tramping joe, his master; he may be a shabby mongrel of the worst breed, but a true heart beats under his rusty hide, and he will love and follow his rambling master through thick and thin. it is the same with our petted horse, which greets us with a glad neigh and loves to kiss our hand or face with its soft muzzle. almost any animal that we make a pet of will repay us with its love and trust, though least of all the cat, which has kept half wild through centuries of taming. but of course we cannot say this of all cats; we must give tabby credit for some of the spirit of affection under her smooth fur, though as a rule she loves places more than she does persons and is apt to be the most independent member of the household. if we go abroad into the wilds and woods, what shall we find there? living creatures still, multitudes of them, but all ready to flee or fly from man. they fear him and do not trust him. if strong and fierce enough they will rush upon him instead of from him and try to kill this two-legged creature who so often tries to kill them. but look closer and you will find that many of these wild animals are near relatives of those that man has tamed. the fierce wolf and cunning fox are cousins of the trusty dog; the terrible lion and tiger belong to the same family as the cat we fondle in our laps; the zebra which no man can tame is not far away in family tree from the faithful horse. very many more of these animals might have been tamed if man had cared to do so. but he picked out those that pleased him most or that he could make the best use of and left the others to their wild ways. now you may see what we are here to talk about. it is our purpose to set out on a home journey, one that starts from the kitchen or the parlor of the house and goes no farther than the outer fence of the farm--if we are lucky enough to have a farm. we are not making this home trip to call on anybody like ourselves. we are setting out to visit the cattle and sheep in their pasture-fields, the horses in their stalls, the poultry in their yards, the pig in his pen, and have a quiet talk about what we find there. and at the same time we must have our say about the dog that follows us in our round, and seems to fancy himself one of ourselves rather than one of those we are proposing to call upon. he thinks himself "folks," does master doggy. let us take him at his own measure and deal with him first, of all. the dog, man's faithful friend where did the dog come from and how long has he made man his companion? these are questions not easy to answer. almost ever since there has been a man there has been a dog to follow at his heels and aid him in his sports. if we go back far before the beginning of history we find the bones of man and dog in the same grave. and it is a strange thing that thousands of years ago there were the same kinds of dogs we see about us to-day. [illustration: bird dogs "pointing" partridges] how do we know this, you ask? why, four or five thousand years ago the people of egypt kept dogs, just as we do, and thought so much of them as to draw pictures of them on the walls of their tombs. if you should visit these tombs, cut deep into the rocks, you would see here the picture of a greyhound, farther on a kind of terrier, still farther one of a wolf-dog, all looking much like our own dogs. so in ancient assyria we find images of watch-dogs and hunting-dogs, much like our mastiff and greyhound. thus, go back as far as we please in the story of human life, man's faithful friend keeps everywhere with him. where did he come from? that is another part of our question. we all know that the dog's forefathers must have been wild animals, hunters and meat-eaters, which were tamed by man and made his comrades. there are plenty of these wild animals still, wolves we call them, fierce hunting creatures that run down smaller animals and kill them for food. they do not bark like the dog, but they are like it in many ways. barking is a new form of speech learned by the civilized dog. it is the dog's trade mark. wise men who have made a study of the dog are sure he began as a wolf, and some dogs have not yet got far away from the wolf. have any of you ever seen an eskimo dog, the kind that drags the sleds of travellers over the arctic ice? if you have, you have looked upon a half-civilized creature that is as much wolf as dog. it will work well--under the whip; but its great delight is an all-round fight, and if hungry its master is not safe from its sharp teeth. in fact, the dogs kept by savage and barbarian people look much like the wolves of the country around them. thus the dogs kept by the indian tribes of our land are so much like the wolves found in the same regions that it is not easy to tell them apart. in southern asia and parts of africa is a wild animal called the jackal. it is smaller than the wolf, but belongs to the same family and seems to come half way between the wolf and the fox. it is fairly certain that some of the dogs of india and other countries are tamed jackals. the jackal is easy to tame, and a tamed jackal will wag its tail and crouch before its master just like a dog. [illustration: fox cubs at mouth of den. observe their vigilant and alert outlook] we begin now to see where man found the dog. he seems in very early times to have tamed the wolves and jackals around him, fed them, won their love by kindness, and taught them to do many new things. the wolves hunt in packs just as dogs do, and they are very expert in taking their prey. it is the same with the jackals. they hunt in packs like the wolves and are very shrewd and cunning. these wild animals are fierce, but so are many dogs, though in most cases the fierceness has been tamed out of our house dogs. the many kinds of dogs any of us who go into a dog show might almost fancy ourselves in a zoological garden, for we seem to be in the midst of a multitude of different animals. it is hard to believe that the fluffy little lapdog, not much bigger than a well-grown rat, belongs to the same family as the great dane, as tall as a pony and strong as a leopard. the same is the case if we bring together the slender and graceful greyhound and the sturdy mastiff; or compare the collie with the terrier or the spaniel; or the ugly bulldog or funny pug with the long-headed foxhound; or the hairy poodle or skye terrier with the many short-haired breeds. nearly ten times as numerous as the letters of the alphabet, the dogs bewilder us with their variety, and it is not easy to believe that they all belong to the same family. yet this is the case; they are all dogs, big and little, stout and slender, hairy or hairless alike, all one in their general make-up and their habits. it is very likely, indeed, that they came from several species of wolves and jackals, yet there are certain traits of doggishness that belong to them all. shall we not fancy ourselves really in a dog show and walk around and look at the variety of dogs to be seen! we cannot name them all, there are too many of them, but we may take a quick glance at the prize dogs in the show. it is common to divide them into groups, such as hunting dogs, working dogs, watch dogs, sheep dogs, and toy dogs. of hunting-dogs there are many kinds, including the various hounds, such as the bloodhound, staghound, foxhound, greyhound, and others. these either have fine powers of scent or are splendid runners, so that few kinds of game can escape them. the bloodhound has very acute scent and has long been known as a hunter of men. in the past it was used to hunt fugitives from justice and in our times has been often put on the track of runaway slaves. the foxhound has long been used in the sport of chasing the fox, large packs of them being kept in england and this country for that purpose. the harrier, a smaller hound, is used in hunting the hare. still smaller is the beagle, the smallest of the hounds, but with the finest power of scent. it is a slow runner, but will keep it up for hours at a time, and seldom fails to bring down its game. other hunting-dogs are the pointer and setter, the friends of the gunner. the pointer is so called from its habit of standing fixed when it scents game, while the setter crouches down when the scent of game is in the air. the spaniel is another hunting dog, much liked by sportsmen. it is a beautiful dog, with very long ears and wavy and beautiful hair, red and white in color. it is fond of swimming and knows well the art of fish-catching. [illustration: beagle hound chasing a rat] working dogs include such kinds as the eskimo dogs, that drag the sleds of the eskimos and of polar explorers, and the dogs of kamtchatka, swift, powerful animals, used for the same purpose. you have very likely read about the working dogs of holland, which are used to pull the milk-carts of their masters. then there is the turnspit, much used in past times to turn the spit when meat was roasting before the fire. in our days there is no use for the turnspit, and not many dogs are made to work for their living. on the whole the dog is something of an aristocrat, ready for sport, keen on the watch, but not overly fond of work. we cannot for a moment lose sight of the sheep dog, the collie, as it is called in scotland, a shaggy, wide-awake fellow, who takes better care of a flock of sheep than most men could do. he lives with the sheep, gathers them from the hills and brings them to the sheepfold when needed, and will let no prowler meddle with the woolly beasts under his care. the stranger who comes near the flock must be careful how he acts, if he does not wish to feel the collie's sharp teeth. that alert sentinel knows his duty and will stand no nonsense. there are many varieties of the sheep dog. in asia they have often to fight for their flocks with wild beasts and robbers, and are very strong and fierce. some of them are shaggy, wolf-like brutes, nearly as large as a newfoundland dog and not afraid of the biggest wolf. dogs like these are also kept in some parts of europe. wise and sharp-witted creatures are the sheep-dogs, knowing and doing their business well. at a word or even a look from its master the collie will scour around the hills and dales for miles, rounding up and bringing the scattered sheep to one place. and in or after the heavy snow-storms of the scotch highlands a dog is often worth a dozen men in saving its master's flocks. [illustration: scottish shepherd dog gathering his flock] then there is the drover's dog or cur, belonging to the same family, black and white in color, used in driving sheep and cattle to the city markets and well trained in the art of doing this. the sheep dogs of south america are fine animals. large flocks are kept there and left alone in the care of these four-footed keepers. darwin, who often saw them, says: "when riding it is a common thing to meet a large flock of sheep, guarded by one or two dogs, at the distance of some miles from any house or man. it is amusing to observe, when approaching a flock, how the dog advances barking, and the sheep all close in his rear as if round the oldest ram." now let us take a look at the watch dogs, those that take charge of their master's house, or follow him in his walks, ready to fight for him whether he goes out or stays in, and to act as a sentinel or guard of honor for him at all times. the mastiff is one of the well-known house guards, a great, strong, faithful sentinel, with heavy head and powerful limbs, bold enough to fight a bear or even a lion. the british mastiff is good-natured and will even let children play with him and tease him, but when kept tied up he often grows surly and dangerous to strangers. there is a mastiff kept in tibet which is larger than the british one and attacks strangers as fiercely as a wolf would do. coming a step down we meet the bulldog, smaller than the mastiff, and looking sour and surly enough to scare any child. its face is twisted into an ugly scowl, and its jaws are like bars of iron. when it gets its teeth into any animal nothing can make it let go. you may burn it with hot irons and it will hold on still. we may pity any one, man or beast, in whom this black bunch of obstinacy sets its teeth. it knows well how to take hold, but not how to let go. coming another step down we see before us the pug, a queer little house pet, which somehow is born with the bulldog's face but is as timid and good-natured as the other is fierce and surly. he is a funny little brute, ugly enough to turn milk sour. yet with all his ugliness he finds loving friends. [illustration: the st. bernard dog and his friends] among the large watch dogs are the sturdy newfoundland, which is well known to us all, the splendid, erect fellow called the great dane, and the noble st. bernard, kept by the monks of the alps to seek for and save travellers who have been lost on the mountain paths or in the deep snows. when a sudden snow-storm comes on two of these powerful dogs are sent out together, one with a flask of strong drink hanging from its neck, the other with a cloak for the freezing wayfarer to put on. if the traveller has lost his way they guide him to the convent. if he has fallen and been covered by the snow, they trace him by their keen power of scent, dig the snow away, and bring the monks by their loud barking, which can be heard for a long distance in the clear mountain air. many of you must have seen the dalmatian coach-dog. a handsome animal it is, white in color, but well marked with round black spots. it is not fit for hunting, for its scent is not good, but it is a welcome companion when one is out on foot, on horseback, or in his coach or carriage. lively, clean and kindly, very active and fond of running, it makes an excellent comrade for the walker or rider. we cannot give the names of all the dogs. there are too many of them. but it will not do to pass by the smaller ones, those used for sport or for house service. chief among the small sporting breeds are the active terriers, all of them brave, alert and quick in motion. these are used in hunting such small prey as the otter, the badger, the weasel and the rat. to see one of them at work in a room full of rats is to look upon a living flash of lightning. a single rat terrier has been known to kill a hundred rats, collected in one room, in seven minutes, one quick bite putting each rat out of business. there are several kinds of terriers. one of them is the dandie dinmont, spoken of by sir walter scott in his novels, a beautiful little dog belonging to scotland. then there is the favorite skye terrier, of the same country, with its very long body and short legs, half buried in its own hair. between the fox terrier and the bulldog, comes the bull terrier, having in it something of both its parents and able to fight as savagely as the bulldog itself. these are the big and the medium sized dogs, but there are many smaller ones, used as pets and some so small as to be only a size larger than the full-grown rat. these are the toy animals, pocket editions of their breeds, many of them only fit for ladies' pets, to be fed and fondled and taken out in coach or carriage for an airing. they include the poodles, terriers and spaniels, the larger ones good for the hunting field, the smaller fit only for the parlor. of the pug, with its ugly mug, we have already spoken, and may pass on to the spaniels, often charming little playmates. there are field spaniels and toy spaniels, the field dogs being good hunters and the water-spaniels fine swimmers. the toy spaniels are very different from the hunters and only fit to be fed and fondled. they include the pretty king charles, glossy black in color, the prince charles, white with black-and-tan markings, the red and white blenheim and the red ruby spaniel. there are other breeds, a popular one being the japanese spaniel. the toy spaniel should not weigh more than ten pounds and have a short, turned-up face like a pug. with their long coats and small size they are fit only for pets, but are very bright and cheery little creatures. [illustration: courtesy of mrs. a. r. bauman a funny quartette of pekingese puppies] the poodles may also be divided into the hunting and the pet dogs. they are fleecy fellows, often with so thick a coat of hair that it is not easy to tell where poodle begins and coat ends. the most handsome of them is the large black russian poodle, well fitted for use in the hunting field. the small white poodle is only fit for a house pet, but it is a very clever one and can easily be taught tricks of various kinds. it has long been the fashion to trim the poodle's coat in an odd fashion, shaving it all off from the body and hind-quarters except a few scattered tufts, but leaving it very long and thick on the shoulders. very likely the poodle himself does not like to be made such a show of, especially if there is any bite in the air. those who have any feeling for their dogs let the hair grow in the winter and trim it only in the warm season. as there are toy spaniels, so there are toy terriers, among them the pretty little black and tan and the lovely little maltese, with a white coat as soft as floss silk and long enough to touch the ground. these toy terriers are scarcely a handful in size, some of them weighing not more than three pounds. then there is the graceful and beautiful italian greyhound; of about eight pounds weight, with soft and glossy coat, fawn and cream colored, and in every way an elegant little creature. anecdotes of dog wit and wisdom what could we do without the dog? there are many other animals made use of by man, but the dog, his faithful friend and companion, stands first of all. it not only aids him in his sports, but clings to him in all the affairs of life, and has been known to lie down and die on its master's grave, not willing to leave him even after death. not only faithful and loving is the dog, not only fond of play and sport, but it has a very good brain of its own and is one of the smartest of all the animals. if it could only talk we would find that a great deal goes on inside its little thinking organ. how wisely it will at times look up in our faces, as if to say, "if i could only speak i could tell you many things worth listening to." but can dogs think? some of you ask. i am sure that most of you who keep dogs could answer this question for yourselves. certainly dogs very often do things that look much like thinking. there are hundreds of anecdotes telling us of wise things done by dogs and i propose to tell you some of these. i think you will find that they answer your question. i am sure that most of you could tell me of some clever dog doings. here are some that seem worth telling. a farmer friend of mine long ago told me of some curious things done by a dog of his. he had a bell hung on a post in his yard, with a rope coming down from it. he would ring it in the early morning to rouse up the farm hands for their day's work. one morning he was surprised to hear the bell ring very early, but no one could tell him who had rung it. the next morning it rang again. he sprang from bed and looked out the window to find that his dog was the culprit. it had the rope in its teeth and was pulling away like an able bell-ringer. the little chap was lonely and wanted company; he had often seen the men troop out on the ringing of the bell; so he put two and two together and rang the bell himself. the farmer had to hang up the rope out of reach to put an end to this doggish trick. the same dog had a great fancy for riding in a carriage of his own, and when one of the men drove up to the door with his cart, and left the horse standing while he went into the house for orders, doggy would bark and bite at the horse's shins until he set him in motion, and then would jump into the cart for a free ride. he was "only a dog," but he knew how to get what he wanted, and he looked proud enough as he stood with his feet on the front of the cart, as if he owned all the world he could see. another friend tells me that, when a country boy, he had to go a mile or two every morning to the post office for letters and papers, his dog keeping him company. on one morning there was nothing for him and he started back empty handed. but the dog refused to follow. it seated itself on the post-office steps and would not budge. he tried in various ways to make it come, but in spite of all he could do back it would go to those steps and seat itself as before. the boy was at his wits' end. at last the thought came to him of what ailed the obstinate brute. he took a piece of paper from his pocket and held it up and at once the dog came running up, frisking about him gladly. if it could have spoken it would have said something like this: "you and i were sent to bring the papers. if you choose to go home without them i do not. i know my duty better than that." [illustration: hounds overtaking a fox] the story has often been told that dogs which have been in the habit of eagerly following their masters on their week-day walks, will not stir on sundays. they seem to know from past experience that they are not welcome on that day. do these creatures count the days of the week and know in that way when sunday comes? or is there something in the dress of the family, the sound of church-bells in the air, or other indications to tell them that this is a day set aside from doggish sports and duties? all i can say in the matter is that a village friend of mine, whose church was too far away for the bells to be heard, had a dog of this kind, that ran friskily up to go out with him every morning but sunday, when it would not stir from its rug. to test the animal he on several occasions came downstairs in his week-day clothes and went about in his week-day manner. but the wise creature was not to be fooled. it looked at him lazily and lay still, its looks seeming to say, "i can count as well as you and i know this is sunday. you can't fool me with your old clothes." you may see that i am not going abroad for my stories. these are not anecdotes taken from books, but little matters told me by friends. the book stories, no doubt, are better, but these are fresher. here are one or two that i have heard of a different kind, tales which go to show the faithfulness of the watch-dog. one of these is of a gentleman who went out one day, leaving his dog locked in the house. on his return in the evening he found that he had forgotten his key and could not get into the house by the front door. he tried the other doors and windows and at last found an open window into which he tried to climb. but so savage a bark came from the care-keeper inside that he backed out again in a hurry. "don't you know me, carlo?" he said, in a coaxing tone. carlo knew him well enough and came with wagging tail to the window to be caressed by its master's hand. but the instant he tried again to climb in the animal's attitude changed and it became the fierce watch-dog again. try as he would, carlo simply would not let him come into the house in that way. it was the burglar's route, and even if this man were his master he had no right to take it. in the end the baffled gentleman had to give up the attempt and leave carlo lord of the premises. the faithful watch-dog knew not master or man when it came to a question of duty. now let me speak of a dog that had a different sense of duty. it belonged to a cousin of mine and when left in charge of the house in the absence of its mistress was quite willing to let visitors enter and seemed very glad to see them. the trouble began when they tried to go out. this the dog would not permit. it was ready to attack them with teeth and claws if they tried it. "here you are and here you stay till my mistress comes home," its attitude seemed to say. "your coming may be all right, but that is for the lady of the house to decide, and you shall not go a step until she returns." dogs cannot talk, that we all know very well. it is true that there is at present a dog in germany which has been taught to speak a number of words, in a way that makes it easy to understand them. but no one fancies that even this dog will ever become a good and ready talker. yet it is well known that dogs can understand human speech and sometimes very well. [illustration: the dog guardian. "can you talk?"] thus a friend of mine comes home at night, after a day's hard work, flings himself lazily on the sofa, and says to a visitor: "if jim there knew enough i would ask him to go upstairs for my slippers." jim, the dog, who has been lying in easy content on his favorite spot, at once gets up, stretches himself, and trots off up stairs, coming back in a few minutes with a slipper in his mouth. off he trots again and comes back with the other, then lies down once more with an air of satisfaction. this is an actual incident. very likely the word "slippers," joined with his own name, was the key-note to the dog's action. the two words were enough to tell him what was wanted. dozens of incidents of this kind might be given. here is a good one that has so often been told that many of you may have read it. a sheep-dog in a highland cottage was lying one day before the fire while his master, a shepherd, was talking with a neighbor. he wished to show his friend how quick-witted a dog he had, and while talking about a different matter, said in a quiet tone, "i'm thinking, sir, the cow's got into the potatoes." the dog, which had seemed asleep, at once jumped up, leaped through the open window and scrambled to the cottage roof. here it could see the potato field. as no cow was there, the dog ran to the farm-yard, where it found the animal it sought. it then came back to the house, and quietly lay down again. some time later the shepherd said the same words and the dog sprang up and went out again. but when the words were repeated a third time the wise creature came up to its master with wagging tail, and looked into his face with so comical an expression that the talkers broke out into a loud laugh. then with a slight growl, the dog laid down again on the hearth rug with an offended air, as if saying to itself, "you shall not make a fool of me again." [illustration: a dog team hauling milk in antwerp] this is one of the stock stories of dog wit. many others like it might be told. there is no doubt that dogs have ways of making their dog friends know things they would like to have done. many stories could be given to prove this, but most of them are too long to be told here. thus we are told of dogs that have got the worst of it in a fight seeking a stronger friend, telling their story in their own way, and the two going out together to whip the whipper. dogs have their feelings, too, and can easily be insulted. "low life" dogs are so used to being cuffed and kicked that a kick does not hurt their feelings, though it may their flesh. but "high life" dogs are apt to be very delicate in their feelings, and the mere touch of a whip hurts their pride deeply. here is a story of a skye terrier that went out every day for a walk in the park with its master's brother. one day when it hung back to amuse itself with another dog the gentleman, to induce it to follow, struck it with his glove. the terrier looked up with an air of anger and dignity, turned round and trotted off home. the next day it went out again, but after a short walk it looked up into the man's face, turned on its heels, and trotted back once more with an air of great dignity. having thus made its protest, it would never go out with him again. here is another case, having to do this time with unjust treatment instead of offended pride. arago, the famous french scientist, was once detained by a storm at a country inn, and stood warming himself by the kitchen fire while the innkeeper roasted a fowl for his dinner. having put the fowl on the spit over the fire, the innkeeper tried to catch a turnspit dog lying in the kitchen and put him in the wheel by which the spit was turned. but the dog would not enter the spit, got under a table, and showed fight. when arago asked what made it act that way, the host said that the dog was right, it was not its turn but that of its companion, then out of the room. the other turnspit was sent for, entered the wheel at once and turned away willingly. when the fowl was half done arago took this dog out and the other dog now readily took his turn. he had fought for right and justice and had won. we must stop here. the stories told about the intelligence of dogs are so many and of such different kinds that they would more than fill this book if all were told. we have picked out a few of some kinds. there are other kinds. thus dogs do not like to be laughed at. they have also some sense of humor and will try to play tricks on their masters. they have a sense of shame and will slink away when caught at some act of which they should be ashamed. and there are thieves among them that will steal in a very skilful manner. thus sheep-killing dogs are very cunning at hiding the evidence of their nightly raids in the sheep-field. i cannot leave the dog without quoting senator vest's fine words of praise of this noble animal. they may be viewed as a classic tribute to the dog. they were spoken in a law-suit in which the senator was acting for a party whose dog had been killed. it was "only a dog," said the other lawyer. here is what senator vest said to the jury: "gentlemen of the jury: the best friend a man has in the world may turn against him. his son and daughter whom he has reared with loving care may become ungrateful. those who are nearest and dearest to us, those whom we trust with our happiness and our good name, may become traitors to their trust. the money that a man has he may lose. it flies away from him when he may need it most. a man's reputation may be sacrificed in a moment of ill-considered action. the people who are prone to fall on their knees and do us honor when success is with us may be the first to throw the stone of malice when failure settles its cloud upon our heads. the one absolutely unselfish friend a man may have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him, the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous, is the dog." [illustration: deerhound, rossie ralph] "a man's dog stands by him in prosperity and poverty, in health and sickness. he will sleep on the cold ground when winter winds blow and snow drives fiercely, if only he may be near his master's side. he will kiss the hand that has no food to offer; he will lick the wounds and sores that come in encounters with the roughness of the world. he guards the sleep of his pauper master as if he were a prince. when all other friends desert, he remains; when riches take wings and reputation falls to pieces, he is as constant in his love as the sun in its journey through the heavens. if fortune drives the master forth an outcast into the world, friendless and homeless, the faithful dog asks no higher privilege than that of accompanying him to guard against danger, to fight against his enemies. and, when the last scene of all comes and death takes his master in its embrace, and his body is laid away in the cold ground; no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by his graveside will the noble dog be found, his head between his paws, his eyes sad but open in alert watchfulness, faithful and true even unto death." the claim for the loss of the dog had been $ , but when the jury heard this just and masterly tribute to the dog they gave a verdict of $ . well they knew that every word of it was true. the cat, our fireside inmate when the sun has left the sky and night flings its dusky cloak over all things out-of-doors, then within the house we draw the curtain, light the lamp, and gather round the study table with books or games. and soon from her fireside nook steals up soft-footed puss, seeking a friendly lap in which she may nestle and purr the hours away. [illustration: from trueblood's cats by the way the mother cat and her playful brood] this bundle of fur we call by the short name of cat was born in other climes and trained in other ways than the dog, and is as sly and sleek as the dog is rough and boisterous. it knows how to make itself at home and dearly loves a soft spot, but it has never quite got rid of its wild-life ways and is often as hard to make a friend of as the dog is easy. rarely does it follow at man's heels in the dog's faithful fashion. when did man first take the cat into his house and make it one of his pets? that is hard to say. if we go back to the early days of civilization we find the cat an inmate of man's house as well as the dog, and quite as much at home. it was kept in egypt several thousand years ago and thought so much of in those far-off days as to leave the dog almost out of sight. the people of that old land loved and worshiped the cat, made it into a mummy when it died, and any one who killed a cat was punished as if he had committed a great crime. that was the golden age of the cat, for one of the goddesses was said to have a cat's head, and the cat had a sacred city of its own, the city of bubastis, where a festival in its honor was held every year and attended by more than half a million of people. the people of greece and rome also thought much of the cat--perhaps because it helped them to get rid of the rat, which was as great a pest then as it is now. in later europe also the cat was a favorite, and it was the custom at aix, in provence, to get the finest male cat that could be found, dress it like a baby, and seat it in a splendid arm-chair for the people to bow down to and worship. the time came at length when the cat lost its good name and people began to look upon it as an imp of evil and the companion of the witch and the sorcerer. a black cat was the worst of all and its life was a hard one. in those evil days for the cat it became the fashion to fling cats from the tops of high towers, and at metz, at the festival of st. john, cats were thrown by the dozen into a blazing fire and burned alive. but better days have now come to pretty puss, and she is cared for as much as the dog, making the house her nest while the dog lives largely out-of-doors. it is chiefly at the late hours of the night that the cat goes abroad. i need not tell any of you what follows. you have all heard the music of a cat concert and felt as if you would like to treat those midnight howlers as the witch-cats were treated of old. caterwauling we call it, and of all the noises of the night it is far the worst. where did the cat come from? that no one can tell exactly. there are wild cats in many parts of the world, we find them in asia, in europe, in africa, in america, but none of them just like our household cat. the fact is that cats differ in different parts of the world and they may have come from several species. the gloved cat of nubia comes nearest to the house cat in size and the shape of the head and tail, but in other ways is unlike it. so, on the whole, we are still in the dark about the origin of the cat. one thing we do know, and this is that the cat has kept more of its wild ways than the dog. in its nightly rambles it is like the wild-cat of the woods. and even in the house it is a little too ready to show its claws. it will scratch where a dog would not think of biting. it is said that the cat loves places much more than it does people, and in moving from one house to another it is hard to get the cat away. it loves its old haunts more than its old friends. the cat walks on its toes like the lion and tiger and all its other wild relations. but its claws do not touch the ground. they are drawn up into a sort of sheath and kept sharp for use as a soldier keeps his sword sharp in its scabbard. the paws being covered with fur, its step is silent and its movements are quiet and cautious, as many a mouse has found out. [illustration: the canada lynx, the house cat's "cousin"] we might not care so much for the cat if it were not of use to us in killing those pests of the house, the rat and the mouse. no matter how well fed she is, pussy dearly loves her mouse, and if on the track of one she is not to be turned aside. she will crouch for an hour at a time watching a mouse-hole, never moving a hair until the victim appears; then a single bound and all is over for the little creature. even if the cat is asleep, no mouse can pass it with safety. its ears and nose do not seem to sleep. once caught, the mouse is played with in a manner that seems cruel to us. the cat makes a game of letting its prey run away, but takes good care it does not reach its hole. this, no doubt, is one of its wild traits, handed down from its ancestors and never tamed out of it. we are told by one observer that a cat will catch and eat twenty mice in a day--this, of course, where mice are plentiful. but when a cat gets a taste for poultry or rabbits it is spoiled as a mouser. and though it is said that cats do not like to get wet, their fondness for fish is greater than their dread of water and they have been known to go fishing in a stream. it is not easy to make a treaty of peace between the cat and the dog. do they hate each other or are they jealous of their position in the house? the cat is not a match for the dog and makes haste to get away from the chasing cur, yet when driven into a corner it will put up a good fight for its life, and many a dog has been sent yelping away from its sharp claws. but this state of warfare does not always exist and it is not uncommon for cats and dogs to live together on friendly terms. [illustration: lippincott's primer ready for business] if we go around the world we shall find cats everywhere and of many kinds. there are not nearly so many varieties of them as there are of dogs and they do not vary much in size like dogs, yet some breeds of cats differ greatly from others. thus the cats from the isle of man--manx cats they are called--have no tails, while their hind legs are very long and strong and they are covered with a thick coat of fur instead of hair. let us compare this with the showy angora cat, with its tail like a great white plume and its long white hair. and they differ as much in character, for the manx is a hardy animal and the angora is a delicate parlor cat, its health needing to be carefully looked after. then there are the malay cat, with a tail only half the full length; the royal siamese cat, fawn colored, with blue eyes and small head; the carthusian, with long, dark, grayish-blue fur; the south african, with red stripes along its back; the cyprus, striped and very tall, and the handsome persian cat with its long silky hair. as races are apt to be mixed, cat fanciers make color their chief point of value. the principal colors are white, black, blue, blue-gray, smoke-color, orange, and tortoise-shell. a true tortoise-shell tom-cat brings a big price. the color of the eyes is very important. blue eyes are a sign of deafness. some white cats have red eyes. as for the hair, cats are divided into two classes, the long-haired and the short-haired, the persian and angora being notable for the length of their hair. most common among our cats is the soot-colored or gray, known as the "tabby," which has black stripes going round its legs, neck, and tail, and also down its sides. these show a return to the wild-cat in color, though tabby is as tame as her rivals. the cat is not lacking in brain power nor in affection, for in many cases it shows warm love for its mistress. there are various anecdotes of cat logic, of which a few may be told. when crumbs have been thrown out to feed the birds a cat will often hide in the shrubbery, waiting for a chance to spring on them as they feed. one writer speaks of a case where the cat went farther in its logic. the crumbs thrown out had been covered by a light fall of snow, and the cat was seen scratching the snow away. then she took up the crumbs, laid them on the snow, and hid behind the bushes to wait for the hungry birds. a cat trick which shows good reasoning power has often been seen, that of opening latched doors, a thing which dogs very rarely do. thus a cat will spring from the ground, catch the latch handle with one paw and with the other pull down the thumb-piece, at the same time scratching with its hind paws at the door post to open the door. the cat that does this must have seen men pull down the latch for the same purpose and reasoned out that it could do the same. also there are cases of cats learning to sound knockers and ring bells, with no one to teach them. thus a mr. belshaw writes: "i was sitting in one of the rooms on my first evening there, and hearing a loud knock at the front door was told not to heed it, as it was only the kitten asking for entrance. not believing this, i watched for myself, and very soon saw the kitten jump up to the door, hang on by one leg, and put the other forepaw right through the knocker and rap twice." here the cat is not trying to open the door herself, but to bring some one to open it for her. dogs have been known to do the same thing, but not so often as cats, and there is a story of a dog which had seen the cat do this, and after that sought the cat when he wanted to get in, without trying to do the trick himself. one story is told of a cat's ringing a bell by pulling at an exposed wire. though the cat's display of thought is not as varied as the dog's, it is very good so far as it goes. here is a story of a different kind. an oil lamp was being trimmed and some of the oil fell on the cat's back. afterwards a cinder from the fire fell on it and set it in a blaze. the animal at once sprang for the open door and ran up the street with her back blazing for about a hundred yards. here was the village watering trough, into which she plunged and put out the fire. the trough had eight or nine inches of water, and puss was in the habit of seeing the fire put out with water every night. in this case it is plain that the animal, as soon as the fire scorched her back, knew very well how to deal with the danger. after all this, who will say that a cat does not think? here is another story, told of her cat by a london lady: "i once had a cat which always sat up to the dinner-table with me, and had his napkin round his neck and his plate and some fish. he used his paw, of course; but he was very particular and behaved with extraordinary decorum. when he had finished his fish i sometimes gave him a piece of mine. one day he was not to be found when the dinner-bell rang, so we began without him. just as the plates were being put round for the entrée puss came rushing upstairs with two mice in his mouth. before he could be stopped he dropped a mouse on to his own plate and then one on to mine. he divided his dinner with me as i divided mine with him." [illustration: the hungry babes and playful kitten] such is the cat, a sedate, warmth-loving creature, dearly loving to be petted, yet far less dependent on man or woman than the dog. if left to itself in the woods, the cat knows well how to take care of itself where a dog would often be helpless. as for love of play, we do not find much of it in the cat but we find plenty in the kitten, which is a regular little rogue, lively, playful, frisky, brimful of fun and a cute little creature in all its ways. other four-footed pets looking around us for our household pets after the dog and the cat, we find that bunny, the rabbit, comes next. bunny is a darling pet of the little ones, who dearly love to fondle this pretty bundle of fur. they are sometimes too kind and the poor little thing suffers from their fondness. that is the sad way with children's pets, they are at times loved to death. but the rabbit is kept for something else than a child's plaything. it is often raised for food, much like the hen and the duck, and its furry skin brings a good price. thus the angora rabbit, the most beautiful of them all, has splendid snow-white fur four inches and more in length, which is made into many things useful to wear. stockings, gloves, shawls, and even stuffs for clothing are made of it. under-garments made of the angora fur are said to be very good for gouty persons. the pretty little angora is so often kept as a pet by the ladies of france and some other countries that it is called "the ladies' rabbit." it is not always full white, for the russian angoras have jet-black noses, ears, legs and tails, which make them look very comical. you would be surprised if you could see all the kinds of rabbits brought together, for there are many more of them than you would think. a splendid one is the little silver rabbit, whose skin is used by the fur-makers and brings a big price. some of them are silver-brown and others silver-yellow in color, but these are not common. the dutch rabbit is the smallest of all the bunnies, and when the colors are good it is very pretty. it may be black, yellow, steel-blue, and of other colors, these hues being oddly combined. other rabbits of small size are the polish and the french papillon (or butterfly). the one called the polish is really an english rabbit, and little folks are very fond of it, with its red eyes twinkling out of its snow-white fur. this fur is of high value. the papillon is white, with black, yellow, gray, or blue spots, and is quite pretty. then there is the japan rabbit, also called the tricolor or tortoise-shell. it has black, yellow and whitish markings and rings round its body, while its head is often half yellow and half black. you can see from what has been said that color has much to do with the difference in rabbits. the ears form another point. they are generally long and stand straight up, giving the rabbit a wide-awake look, but there is a lop-eared rabbit with ears so long and heavy that they hang down on each side and nearly touch the ground. the king of all the rabbits in size is the giant rabbit of flanders. two others known as giants are the blue giant of vienna and the blue giant of beveren (flanders). the flesh of these blue giants is very good and their fur brings a high price. that of the blue giant of beveren is very thick and close and is of great value. this animal weighs from seven to ten pounds. we are familiar in this country with the belgian hare. it is not a hare at all, though it looks like one, but is really a rabbit, and is a fine strong species, weighing six or seven pounds and excellent for the table. it is a little wild, but soon grows gentle with those who care for it. it used to be sent in great numbers to the united states. you may see from what has been said that there are many varieties of the rabbit. of those used for food much the best is the norman rabbit, which weighs nine or ten pounds and is sold in the markets in paris and other cities of france. the black-and-tan is one of the most beautiful of the rabbits, from its splendid color, but it is very shy and hard to tame. the last we need speak of is the havana rabbit, of brown or chocolate color, now much raised in holland. when the rabbit is taken good care of it is very healthy and those who raise it for the market for its fur find it of much value, since it increases in numbers very rapidly. many of the young die, it is true, but enough live to keep up a large family. [illustration: rabbits near their burrow. the young at play, the mother alert for danger] a good rabbit home may be made of a number of boxes of about the same size, raised four or five inches above the ground and facing the sun if they are kept in the open air. casks or barrels may also be used, with a door at one end of the barrel, covered with netting to keep out rats and mice. it is amusing to see the care with which the mother rabbit makes her nest when she is about to have young. some soft straw and hay is put in the box or cask and this she carries into one corner of her home, makes a hollow in it, and lines this with fur pulled from her breast, to make a warm, soft nest for the little brood. when the young are born she must be given something juicy, such as a turnip or carrot, or perhaps a little warm milk or water, for if left thirsty she grows feverish and is apt to eat the little ones, not knowing what she is doing. she cannot bear thirst and it makes her do strange things. there may be new broods of young five or six times a year, and if only three or four of each brood live there will be a good many by the year's end. there are many other animals which are at times kept as pets by man, though the dog, cat, and rabbit are the most common. the ferret is often kept, though not as a pet. it is a half wild little brute, hard to tame and used for hunting, for some kinds of which it is very useful. it is a sort of white weasel, long and slender, so that it can make its way through rat holes or rabbit burrows. a brave little thing, it is not afraid to attack the largest rat, and is good at clearing a house of rats and mice. it is also used to drive rabbits from their burrows. nets are set to catch the prey or they are shot as they rush out. but a muzzle is put on the ferret, for if it can kill the rabbit and drink its blood it may stay for days in the hole. at other times a long string is tied to it, so that it can be pulled out. the ferret is sometimes used to chase and catch fowls. once caught, a single sharp bite on the neck puts an end to the life of the fowl. [illustration: the otter, one of nature's fishers] the ferret is a blood-sucker, and this makes it dangerous when it has once tasted blood. it has been known to attack a child in its cradle when the mother was away, and will bite its master if not given enough food or ill-treated in any way. it is an ugly tempered little brute, usually unfit for petting. but mr. romanes tells of one kept by him that was fond of being petted and would follow him like a dog when he walked out. it was also taught tricks, such as begging for food and leaping over sticks, and those it never seemed to forget. the guinea-pig, which is often kept as a home animal, has none of the fierce ways of the ferret. in spite of its name, it has nothing to do with the real pig, but is one of the gnawing animals, a timid and stupid creature, that first came from south america. large numbers of them are found on the banks of the la plata river, being there known as the cavy. they burrow in the ground and feed on fruits and herbs. [illustration: a guinea-pig. pig only by name, not by nature] what people like in the guinea-pig is its pretty coloring. the wild form is of a grayish-brown color, but as kept on the farm its color is white, with patches of red and black. it is of no use to man except as a pet, for it is not fit for food and is too stupid for anything else. it has been said to drive off rats and mice, but this is a false notion. what can we say of the hedgehog as a pet? not much, though it is often kept. it is no more a hog than the cavy is a pig, but is not one of the gnawing animals, for it lives chiefly on mice, game, birds, frogs, insects and worms. this makes it very useful in a garden or in a house in which roaches are a pest. the odd thing about the hedgehog is its armor of sharp spines. when attacked by a dog or other animal it at once rolls itself up into a ball with the spines pointing out in all directions like those of the porcupine. thus the little creature is quite able to take care of itself. the dog may roll it about with his foot but is afraid to bite into its spines. the weasel has also been tamed and been found a lovable little animal. the otter is another tamable creature and can be taught to catch fish and bring them to its master. dr. goldsmith tells us of one that would go to the fish pond when told to do so, drive the fish into a corner, seize the largest and carry it in its mouth to its master. there are many other animals that have at times been kept as pets, among them such a queer one as the kangaroo, with its very long hind legs and very short fore-legs and its habit of jumping instead of walking. a pet kangaroo of which we are told was a very man-like or monkey-like creature in its way of eating, using its fore-paws like hands to take food from its dish. what it most enjoyed was a rabbit-bone, which it would take in its right paw and pick clean, eating it with great relish. it was very fond of tea, but liked to have it well sweetened. if the milk was left out it would lash its tail, draw up its tall figure angrily and bound away with a long leap. kanny had a very sweet tooth and liked sugared almonds best of all titbits. other odd pets we have heard of were a couple of prairie dogs, brought from texas to scotland and kept in a village garden. they proved very friendly but needed to be locked up in a strong box at night, for they would gnaw into shreds the mats and rugs and everything open to their sharp teeth. but they were loving little things and had a way of showing affection by a gentle pressure of their teeth on the hands of their friends. if a stranger touched them in a timid way he was apt to get a pinch but if a firm hold was taken they seemed to like it. these are only a few of the animals that have been kept as pets. cardinal wolsey made a friend of an old carp, cowper, the poet, loved to play with his hares, and lord clive, the soldier, kept a pet tortoise. others of less note have made pets of snakes, frogs, lizards, and various other animals. we have not tried to name them all and have said nothing about so common a pet as the monkey, for we must keep this funny fellow for a chapter of his own. [illustration] ii our single-hoofed helpers is there anywhere, has there ever been, a finer or more useful animal than the horse, the swift racer of the plains, the noble lord of the desert, the mainstay of the city and farm? to us the horse is as familiar a friend as the dog. we see this fine animal everywhere that man lives, now valued for his speed, when he flies away over the racing field "with the wings of the wind;" now admired for his beauty and stately form, when he draws the coaches of kings and nobles; now for his great size, as the huge draught animal; now for his small size, as the dainty little pony. it is sad to say also that we often see him as the old, worn-out drudge of the streets, hard-worked, half-fed, and slowly dying in harness. go back as far as we can in history it is the same story still. the horse is man's friend and helper, carrying him in the battle-field, working for him on the farm, bearing him in his travels. but if we go back beyond history we come to a time when the horse was free and wild. it was not yet tamed by man, but was hunted and killed for food. in the caves that were the homes of early man great numbers of horses' bones are found, left from the feasts of old-time savage men. [illustration: friends and comrades] the wild horse has not gone from the earth. troops of them still live on the vast plains of northern asia, and they are found also in the forests of the south of russia, small, wiry animals, full of life and spirit. these are called tarpans. centuries ago wild horses were to be found in spain and parts of germany, but these have all been caught and made to work for their living. america has its wild horses also, plenty of them in south america, but they are not natives of the soil. some of the horses brought over from spain by the early settlers escaped from their masters and became free and wild in the great grassy plains. these are known as "mustangs" or "cimmarones," and no use is made of them except by the indians, who kill and eat some of them and tame others. the horse in all lands no matter where we find horses they are very much the same. they are not like dogs, of which there are so many kinds. of course there is much difference in the size of horses and also in their colors, but little difference in other ways. if we travel together over the earth and see the horses of the various countries we shall find them very much alike. yet such a journey is well worth taking, for it will show us many things we ought to know. the horse family, as very likely you know, differs from all other animals in having only one toe. it comes from animals that had a number of toes, but these have all gone but one, and the nail of this toe has grown into a thick, horny hoof which keeps the foot from being hurt as the horse gallops over its native plains. its home is on broad, grassy levels, soft to the tread. but when used by man it has to travel much on hard and stony roads which would soon wear out its hoof. so to save this it has to be shod with iron. the hoof is so thick that the iron shoe can be nailed to it without touching the flesh. there are a number of animals much like the horse, but unlike it in several ways. these animals we shall speak of further on. one of the special points by which one knows the horse is the long hairs which cover the whole length of its tail. another is its splendid, flowing mane. it has also longer legs and smaller head and ears than the other members of its family. altogether a fine horse is one of the handsomest of all animals. and among them all it is one of the most useful to man. [illustration: rosa bonheur's famous picture of the horse fair] now let us start on the journey abroad we laid out and see some of the world's horses. if we go first to the grand plains of northern asia, the broad, level country called the steppes, the people of which are always travelling about with their flocks and herds, we shall find ourselves in the native land of the horse. in far-off times this was the great region of the wild horse and here very likely it was first made a slave of man. all the time on the move, as these shepherd people were, driving their cattle and sheep from pasture to pasture, the horse was fitted for their use by its strength and speed, and very long ago it must have been caught and made to bear the saddle and bridle and carry man on its back. no one can say how long ago this was, but these people are now the great horsemen of the earth. they live with their horses, sleep with them, and love them even more than they do their children. the mongols of the steppes have almost lost the art of walking. they live so much on horseback that their legs have become curved instead of straight and when they walk their bodies bend forward as if they were riding. the time was when great hordes of these wild horsemen swept over the south of asia and a great part of europe, capturing and killing the people wherever they came. thus the horse has been of great use in war. the horses of the steppes are of middle size but are very strong and can go long without food and bear very hard work. they have quick, alert ears and eyes full of life and spirit, and can easily travel from forty to sixty miles in a day. their color is light bay, cream color, white spotted with red, or sorrel, and some of them are quite pretty. here let us step aside to the british island and tell the story of a famous horse, black bess, belonging to a famous rider, dick turpin, the highwayman. once when dick was chased by the soldiers, this noble animal carried him from london to york, a distance of one hundred and five miles, in eleven hours. and this was done over rough roads and without a stop to eat or drink. as she entered the gates of york the splendid beast fell dead. you may learn from this what the horse is able to do. if we wish to see the noblest and finest of all horses we must go from the grassy steppes of the north to the sandy deserts of arabia, where for thousands of years has been kept the splendid arab breed, the pride of their masters and the swiftest and most beautiful of the horse tribe. many of these have been brought to europe to give their blood to the racing stock. black bess, dick turpin's noble horse, had much arabian blood. but the best of these horses are not sold out of their native land, for a true arab horseman would almost rather sell his soul than his horse. persia also has its noble breed of horses, kept for desert travel and of the same type as those of arabia. the mountain horses of the balkans are of a similar type, beautiful in color, often a golden brown, with dark brown manes and tails, and soft, glossy coats. like the persian and arabian they have delicate but strong bones, large muscles and much power of work and travel. russia, with its vast plains, is the great country for the horse. most of these are the horses of the steppes, which we have spoken of, but the russian peasants have many millions of working horses, tall, stout, strong beasts, with powerful legs and solid hoofs. they are not only strong, but willing and ready, and are good for riding as well as drawing. germany comes next to russia in the old world in numbers of horses, and is noted for its fine, large, handsome carriage horses. from the days of george i. of england, to queen victoria's diamond jubilee in , eight of the splendid horses of hanover were used to draw the royal coach on all state occasions, and fine, stately animals they were. france has several fine breeds of horses, from the heavy norman coach horse to the powerful french draft horse and the well-known percherons, much used in this country. in england the hunting and racing horses stand first. these, known as thoroughbreds, are in great part of the arabian stock and there are no finer animals to be found for the race-track. of the many other large breeds in europe we shall speak only of the great draft horses of belgium, known the world over for their fine shape, great muscles and vast strength. coming down now from these elephant-like horses it is a long step to the pony, the toy animal found in the cold countries of the north. best known among these are the shetland ponies, from the frosty islands north of scotland. these tiny creatures, sometimes less than three feet high, are ridden by children and used in circuses. but the chief use in their native land for these poor little ponies is in the coal mines, to draw the coal carts. once taken into a mine, they never see the light of day again, some of them living fifteen years in these dark prisons. [illustration: from davis' practical farming pure bred clydesdale draft horse] another small, pony is the norker horse of norway, a strong little creature, noted for its power of mountain travel and of swimming. the ponies of iceland are much like these, with thick coats of hair. these get their food in winter by scraping away the snow with their hoofs and eating the thin coat of grass and moss below. sweden also has its ponies, as also the mountain regions of britain and other northern countries; but ponies are not confined to cold regions, for we find them as far south as italy and greece, and in the grecian islands known as the cyclades is a breed of ponies said to be still smaller than those of the shetlands. if we now cross the sea and come to our own country, the united states, we find no native breed of horses, all those we have being of european stock. this may seem strange when it is known that america was one of the native homes of the horse. the ancestors of the horse dwelt here, from little, five-toed animals of the size of a fox to the large one-toed animal of the recent age. all over america horses once spread, from the arctic seas to patagonia, but when white men first reached this soil not a horse remained. they all had gone, no one knows how, and the continent had to be supplied again from european stock. racer and hunter the horse has long been used in many ways by man; in cart, wagon, and plough; on the race-track and in the hunting field; in war and in peace. it has been man's great aid and helper, and through all the ages until less than a century ago it was the fastest means of travel or of sending news. up to about all land travel was on horseback or by coach, or else on foot. then the locomotive came and brought a great change. it was later still when men began to send news by lightning express over the telegraph wire. in early days in our country the mails, which now go so fast, were carried by old men on horseback, who spent the time in knitting stockings as they jogged along slowly over the rough roads. [illustration: a roman chariot race] the horse has long been used not only in travel but also in sport, as a hunter and racer. when we read the story of ancient days and of the old greeks and romans we find many tales of chariot races. these old nations had great oval buildings, with thousands of seats, and a long oval race-track around which the horses had to run several times to finish the race. these were not horseback races, like those of to-day, but races with chariots like those used in war. each chariot was drawn by four swift horses and driven by a man who stood upright with reins and whip in hand and drove his horses at full speed round the track. the great and rich people took part in these races and many thousands of lookers on cheered them wildly as they sped onward like flying eagles. if any of you should like to read a good story of an ancient chariot race you can find one of the best in general lew wallace's novel of "ben hur." in the middle ages riding was done on horseback, and when carriages and coaches were brought into use people despised those who rode in them, calling them weak and lazy. so in those days the racing was on horseback, as it still is in most cases. many of these races went on in the open country, through rough fields and over streams. they were called "clock races," for the prizes were little wooden clocks, or clock towers. these were afterwards made in silver, and from them came the name of "steeplechase," by which such races are now called. regular race-courses began in england in the reign of james i., after , and in later years many arabian horses were brought to that country and racing became a common sport. one of the most celebrated of those early racers was eclipse, a horse never beaten and never needing whip or spur. since then there have been many famous racers, and racing has become very popular in all parts of europe. a bad feature of it is the habit of betting on the speed of horses, by which many men have lost all their money. [illustration: thoroughbred racing horse. a trained horse of this breed is the swiftest of all animals] racing was early brought over to this country, and was common in the south in the times of the colonies. it is still kept up. the trotting horse has been developed in the united states until now we have the best trotters in the world. in the british islands, as you may know, the racing horses are made to run, or gallop, quite a different pace from the trot. the trotting horses of this country began with a fine english horse named messenger, born in , of arabian stock. in it was thought splendid when a horse trotted a mile in . ( minutes and seconds). there are now trotting horses which can make a mile in less than minutes. running is a faster pace and a mile can be made in less time, but americans like trotting better. shall i say something about the use of the horse in hunting? this has long been a common sport in england and ireland, much more so than in this country. the owners of large estates in the british islands often keep large packs of hounds, trained to chase the fox or the deer, and known as fox-hounds and deer-hounds. their stables are also filled with horses, trained to run at full speed over rough country and jump high fences and wide ditches. the hunting of deer and hares is an old form of sport, centuries old, but now fox-hunting is liked better, and great care is taken to protect the foxes for the use of the hunters. fox-hunting is very hard work for horses and only a good horse can be used as often as twice a week in a fox-chase. there is a story of a deer hunt by the king's hounds and horses where the chase was kept up nearly five hours over wild country. it was so hard on horses and men that many of the riders had to give up, two horses died in the field and seven others during the week. a run of this length over rough ground, with all sorts of obstacles in the way, will kill or badly injure the strongest horse. trained hunters can do wonderful feats of jumping over fences and ditches, but this leads to many accidents, and the injury or death of horse or rider in the hunting field often takes place. [illustration: virginia deer] war-horse and working-horse in far past times the horse was used in war far more than in our days. men can now kill one another fast enough without the use of horses, but large numbers are still used in the army, to haul wagons and guns and for those who fight on horseback. in ancient days no saddle was used, soldiers riding their horses bareback, though the great men of the armies rode in war-chariots. the old roman horsemen did not use bits or bridles, but guided their horses by a headband which pressed on the nose, the reins being fastened to rings on this band. in later roman times the saddle was used, but the germans they fought with still rode bareback or used the skin of an animal for a saddle. they did not use stirrups. it was the same with the great tartar riders, who came from the steppes of asia and conquered great part of europe and asia. in the days of chivalry, when the knights wore steel armor and used heavy harness, large and strong horses had to be ridden, but in later days much lighter horses served for the soldiers' needs. those who have read of napoleon's wonderful campaigns know how much use he made of his cavalry, and many horses are still used in war, though not so many as of old. if now we leave the story of the war-horse and the racer and hunter and come to that of the working-horse we meet with an animal in which strength and pulling power are of more account than show and speed. for ages past the horse has worked faithfully for man, in the farming field, along the country road, on the streets of the cities; hauling the plow and harrow in the field, the wagon and cart along the road, the carriage, car, dray and other wheeled vehicle in the street. and its life has often been one of much suffering, and still is in some countries, for there are nations in which the poor, patient horse is treated with great cruelty. [illustration: a logging team with a heavy load] but in these days man has much less need of the horse than of old. once it did nearly the whole of man's hauling. now the powerful locomotive takes its place. in city streets the electric car saves the horse from much of his former labor, and the automobile and auto-car are taking the place of the horse for riding and hauling. yet horses are still in use in large numbers and it will be long before man gives up this useful friend and helper. the horse tamer the taming of wild horses is no light task. it is one that needs the greatest skill and daring. the lasso, a long, strong rope with a noose at its end, is the weapon of the tamer, with which he can bring down the strongest and wildest animal. chasing the wild horse on a tamed one, trained in the art, the skilled rider, when near enough, will fling his lasso with wonderful skill and rarely fails to catch the fleeing animal in its strong noose. the horse he rides knows well its duty, which is to pull back on the rope and check the flight of the frightened creature. to bring the wild captive to the ground is only half the labor. it must be saddled and bridled and ridden until it is worn-out and its wild spirit gives way. it will plunge and rear, whirl round and kick in all directions, even roll over and over, in a mad effort to throw the rider from its back. only when completely subdued will it yield, but once tamed it may become a very faithful friend and servant to its tamer. bucking is one of the ways a wild horse seeks to get rid of his rider, and it takes a man of great skill to keep on the back of a bucking horse. lowering its head between its fore-legs, it gives a wild leap upwards and comes down with a smash of its hoofs on the ground. the man that can keep in the saddle through two or three of these jumps must make himself part of the horse. the men who do this are splendid riders, and the cowboys of the plains, who have to take care of the great herds of cattle, almost live on horseback. such a man can often bend over from his horse, reach down, and pick up a small object, such as a glove, from the ground while riding at full speed. every young horse has to be broken to harness before it is fit for work. the freedom which it has been given in its youthful days must come to an end, and this it does not like. for a race-horse the breaking is done when it is about a year and a half old, but for a working or coach horse it is left until it is three or four years old. the horse-breaker must be gentle and patient or he may spoil the temper of the horse. he must get the colt used to be touched and to feel the halter. after that he leads out the young animal with rein and halter. the next thing is to teach the colt the feel of the bit. a bit may be put into its mouth every day while it is in the stable, so as to accustom it to the feel of the metal. it is then taken out and driven with long reins fastened to the bit, and taught to move to the pull of the rein. after this the horse can be harnessed and put to work. all this takes much time and trouble and it is only done with fine horses, other horses being broken with less pains. but if the animal is high-bred a quick breaking may spoil its courage or ruin its temper. the arab and his horse would you not like to hear some more about the arabian horse, the noblest and best of his race? i have told how all our best racers are of arab stock and how dearly the arab loves his horse. a child of the desert, often having to go long and far without food and under a blazing sun, the horse becomes very hardy. it may be tied by all four legs to stakes set in the ground and kept there for many hours, the sun burning hot, yet if now its legs are set free and its master springs upon its back it is as full of life and spirit and as eager for a wild ride as if it had been taken fresh from the stable. the comrade of its master by day and night, his support and comfort, ready to go without food or drink in his service, the horse and its rider grow more like two lovers than like master and servant. the poverty of the arab may at times force him to sell his horse, but it is like selling a part of himself. "my eyes! my soul! my heart!" he will say, "must i be forced to give thee a new master, and not keep thee myself? i am poor, my antelope; i brought thee up in my dwelling as a child; i did never beat or chide thee." then he will embrace the noble animal, wipe its eyes with his handkerchief, rub its glossy skin with his sleeve and remain long talking to it as if he was parting with his dearest child. [illustration: the famous arab steeds and desert riders] "when i was at jerusalem," says chateaubriand, "the feats of one of those steeds made a great noise. the bedouin to whom the animal, a mare, belonged, being pursued by the governor's guards, rushed with him from the top of the hills that overlooked jericho. the mare scoured at full gallop down an almost perpendicular declivity without stumbling and left the soldiers lost in admiration and astonishment. the poor creature, however, dropped down dead on entering jericho, and the bedouin, who would not quit her, was taken, weeping over the body of his faithful companion. ali aga showed me, in the mountains near jericho, the footsteps of the mare that died in the attempt to save her master." here is one more story of the arabian horse. "when the envoy," says sir john malcolm, "was encamped near bagdad, an arab rode a bright bay mare, of extraordinary shape and beauty, before his tent until he attracted his attention. on being asked if he would sell her-- "'what will you give me,' was the reply. "'that depends upon her age; i suppose she is past five.' "'guess again,' said he. "'four?' "'look at her mouth!' "on examination she was found to be rising three. this, from her size and fine shape, added much to her value. "'i will give you fifty tomans,' said the envoy. (the toman is worth about five dollars.) "'a little more--if you please.' "'eighty--a hundred.' "he shook his head and smiled. the officer at last came to two hundred tomans. "'well,' said the arab, 'you need not tempt me farther. you are a rich elchee (nobleman); you have fine horses, camels, and mules, and i am told you have loads of silver and gold. now,' he added, 'you want my mare, but you shall not have her for all you have got.'" anecdotes of the horse the horse has a mind of its own, and now and then lets us see that it can think, but it does not seem to have as good brain-power as the dog or the cat. there is much reason for this. the horse eats grass and does not need to think how to get its food. the dog and cat eat meat, and in their wild state have to catch other animals for food. to do this they have to use tricks and plans which need thought and thus their minds are kept busy. also they are in danger from other animals. take the fox, which is a sort of cousin of the dog. when chased by men and dogs it has many ways of getting away from them besides running. this is not the case with the horse, which is one of the best of runners and trusts to its heels instead of its brain to escape from its enemies. so in its wild state it does little work with its brain. the horse is a timid animal and easily scared. and when in a state of fright it seems to have no power of thought. all it does is to run in a mad way, rushing along over roads and streets without heed of where it is going, and sometimes knocking out its brains against a post or wall. you will not find a scared fox or wolf show such lack of sense as this. they never get into a wild panic like the horse. thus there is very little in the life of the horse to make it think. yet it can think to some extent, as may be seen from a few anecdotes. it can also be taught to do tricks that need some brain-power. i think you will like to read some stories of horse-thought. the horse has a good memory, as any one can see when riding over roads which it travelled long before. there are many stories of men trusting to their horses when they were in a dangerous place, and in this way being brought out all right. a friend of darwin, the naturalist, wrote him this in a letter:-- "i want to tell you an instance of long memory in a horse. i have just driven my pony down from london here, and though she has not been here for eight years she remembered her way quite well, and made a bolt for the stables where i used to keep her." this is only one out of many cases that could be told. a horse driven by a doctor or milkman does not need to be drawn up before certain houses. it knows just where to stop. there is a story told of a gentleman who was in the habit of stopping his horse to give money to every beggar he met on the road. he loaned or sold this horse to a friend, who soon wrote to him asking him to take his horse back again. "i cannot pass a beggar on the road but the old fellow will stop and will not start again until i have given the man something. if i have no money i have to pretend to give before i can get him to move on." some horses have the sense to help themselves in various ways. one of these learned how to step out of its halter when the coachman had left it for the night. then it would pull out the sticks in the pipe of the oat-bin so as to let all the oats run down over the stable-floor. of course, it had seen the coachman pull out these sticks and knew that this was the way to get a free lunch. the same horse would also turn the water-tap to get a drink and pull the window cord to open the window on hot nights. not many horses are as smart as this, yet numerous tricks played by horses could be told. there is one told of a horse which, when turned into a field where there was a pump, soon found out how to get water. he would take the pump-handle in his mouth and work it with his head until he had all the water in the trough he wanted to drink. of course, he had seen men work the handle in this way. a number of stories could be told of horses which went themselves to the blacksmith shop when their shoes were out of order. one is of a shetland pony which came to a blacksmith shop a long distance from its home and thrust its head in the door. the blacksmith drove it away but it soon came back again. then the smith looked at its feet and found that one shoe was gone. he made and put on a shoe and then waited to see what the animal would do. "for a moment it looked at the blacksmith as if asking whether he was done. then it pawed once or twice to see if the newly-shod foot was comfortable, and finally gave a pleased neigh, lifted its head, and started homewards at a brisk trot. the owner was much surprised to find the horse at home that evening, fully shod, and could not understand it until the smith had told him the story of his pony's wit." one of the smartest tricks we have met with is told of a mule, an animal which is not supposed to have the sense of a horse. it belonged to a gentleman living at iowa city, and was an expert at getting into mischief. it took every chance when the yard-gate and barn-door were open to slip in and steal a mouthful of oats. one morning it was found in the barn with the gate shut and latched and no one could tell how it got there. this went on for some time, until a watch was set and the smart mule was "caught in the act." this is the way it worked. it would reach over the fence with its head and lift the gate latch. then when the gate swung open it would go through into the yard and back up against it, pushing it to till the latch caught. this done, it went to the barn, pulled out the pin that held the door, and walked calmly in. the owner says: "i am of the opinion, had not discovery of the trick prevented, it would soon have occurred to him to retrace his steps before daylight, in order to avoid the clubbing which the stable boys gave him in the morning." [illustration: a pair of prize mules] the ass, zebra and mule the animal called the ass is a near relation of the horse, one best known to us under its common name of donkey. it is like the horse in some ways and not like it in others. the ass is much smaller than the horse, being nearer the size of the pony. it has a heavy head, thick lips, long ears, and a tail not covered with long hair like the horse's tail, but with a tuft of hair at the end like that of a cow. a decided difference is in its voice, the bray of the donkey being an ear-splitting sound, not at all like the neigh of the horse. the wild ass is found through all parts of central and southern asia and also in northern africa. it is spoken of in the bible. the book of job praises this animal for its love of liberty. job says of it: "he scorneth the multitude of the city, neither regardeth he the cry of the driver. the range of the mountains is his pasture and he searcheth after every green thing." [illustration: reproduced by permission of amer. conservatory mexican donkey waiting for the last straw] that is a good picture of the wild ass, for it seems to like every green thing. it eats the bitter herbs of its favorite regions, the mountain spinach, the dandelion, the thistle, and the witch grass, and drinks the salt water of the caspian sea as readily as fresh water. it is taller and stouter than the donkey, very active and able to bear fatigue. its winter coat resembles that of a camel, being long and fleecy, but in summer its hair is soft and silky and silvery white beneath. the tartars and persians kill and eat this animal, but it has sharp eyes and keen ears and is a swift runner, so that it is hard to shoot. when taken young it is easily tamed, and if well fed grows to be a strong and handsome animal which sells at good prices. such is the fine animal which has been turned into the dwarfed and stupid donkey of europe. to be dull and obstinate is not native to this animal. its lack of sense comes in great part from the way it is treated and its being taken to a climate too damp and cold for it. in the warm, dry regions of the south it is a finer animal and gets better care, and here the people often pet and love their donkeys. in china and persia there is a fine race of asses, used only for riding, and these are so thick in bokhara that the streets are often crowded with them. they are of many colors, white, black, brown, blue-gray, etc. the donkeys of egypt also are handsome animals, with an easy gait that makes them much liked for riding. still handsomer are those of upper egypt and nubia, which are such fine creatures that they sell for more than horses. in the western states of this country and in the spanish republics is a very small donkey, called the burro, much used as a carrier of loads in the mountain regions and in the streets of cities. there are also great numbers of wild asses in parts of south america, patagonia having very many of them. they were once so abundant in the cape verde and canary islands that they were hunted and killed like beasts of game. aside from their flesh, which is much liked when they are young, the skin is of value, being made into parchment, vellum and shagreen. [illustration: the striped zebra of africa] the zebra, one of the most beautiful of animals, from its handsomely striped skin, is a member of the horse family, but one of which we do not need to speak, since it is found only in a wild state. it has in some cases been tamed and trained to harness, but it is an obstinate and hot-tempered brute, so that few have tried to tame it. another striped animal of africa rather like the zebra, is the quagga, but this has been hunted and killed till now none of them can be found. its name came from its cry ("quag-ga quag-ga"), as different from the neigh of the horse as from the bray of the ass. a cross has been made between the zebra and the horse, which has been named the zebrule or zebroid. these have proved strong and easy to train for harness and saddle. there are several of them now in the government collection of animals at washington, and some time they may prove useful. but the best cross-breed is that between the horse and the ass, well known to us all as the mule. the breeding of mules has been carried on from very old times and is now common in many parts of the earth. it yields an animal which is cheaper to keep than the horse and better fitted for many kinds of work. i hardly need tell you what the mule is like, for all of you have often seen this ugly and at times very obstinate, but hard-working brute. the mule is much like the horse in size and shape, but it has the long ears, the tufted tail, the thin, wiry legs, and the narrow hoofs of the ass. and while its coat is like that of the horse, its voice comes near that of the ass. the mule is like the ass also in being strong, hardy and not given to disease. even when thirty years old it often shows no sign of age. thus it is useful for more years than the horse, eats less, and is fit for work not suited to the horse. the mule is of great use in carrying loads over mountain paths. it has a firm, sure foot and can carry loads of five hundred pounds for weeks at a time over pathless hills. the planters of the south could not do without it in their cotton and sugar fields and it takes the place of the horse for much of the street work of cities. this is not all. mules are often used for riding and are very good for this. they are also used in carriages. they are raised in large numbers in spain, where fine ones bring high prices, selling from $ to $ . we should hardly look to the donkey and the mule for signs of powers of thought, but it is likely that they are equal to the horse in intellect. the story of a gate-opening mule, given above, goes beyond anything we have found said about the horse, and it is very likely that all those members of the horse tribe, which are much alike in habits, are also much alike in thought powers. [illustration] iii cloven-hoofed draught animals now we come to the two-toed animals, those called the cloven-hoofed. looking at our own arms and legs we find five toes on each foot and five fingers on each hand and might fancy that this is the natural number. we find it to be so with the monkeys and with many other animals but we soon find some with fewer toes. thus the dog, while it has five toes on its fore feet, has only four on its hind feet. in the tapir and the rhinoceros we meet with three-toed animals and soon come across two-toed and one-toed animals. the two-toed are very common, for we find them in the sheep and cattle of our fields, the pig of the barnyard, the camel, the deer, the antelope, and several other kinds. as for the one-toed, their story has just been told. is it not worth knowing that the fewer toes an animal has the faster and longer it can run? we find this in the one-toed horse, and its cousins, the ass and the zebra, the greatest runners of all animals. next to them come the two-toed animals. of these the deer and antelopes are fast runners, though some of them run very little. we do not find many runners among the five-toed animals. those of the cat tribe are better at jumping than running. in the dog tribe, in which are the wolves and foxes, there are good runners, but these animals trust to their wits as much as to their legs, catching their game often by cunning tricks. [illustration: reproduced by permission of the philadelphia museums the native ox cart of delhi, india] another matter of some interest is the fact that all the one-toed animals are much alike in form and habit, while the two-toed differ so much that we can find little or no likeness between them. take the ox, the goat, the pig, the buffalo, and the camel. are these alike in anything except their split hoofs? the fact is that the single hoof seems to fit animals only for running, while the double hoof fits them for various kinds of life. we find them at home in the desert, on the mountains and plains, in the forest depths, and in swampy regions, their forms and habits changing to suit the kind of life they lead. many of these animals have been tamed and made to serve man in various ways. we can see them all about us, some of them kept for food, some for work in the field or on the road. let us take a look at those used for work. the ox and buffalo that great lumbering beast we call the ox, with his long horns and his slow, lazy walk, is one of the strong workers of the world. go where we will we see him, pulling the plough or the cart and wagon. if we leave home and go over the world we shall find many people using the ox. in south africa we may see long teams of them pulling the heavy wagons of the farmers. in india the hindu people eat no meat, but they keep many cattle to work in their fields. it is the same in many other countries both of the old and the new world. among our own people the ox is much used as a working animal. while large use is made of the horse and donkey, the strength and patience of the ox give it great value and it is used for many kinds of work. though a slow, plodding animal, it can pull a big load by the aid of its wooden yoke. in the fields of the south the farmers and planters could not well get along without it. our ox is not the only worker of his kind. in far-off asia there are two other animals which are cousins of the ox and are made to work like him. their names belong to the end of the alphabet, for they are called the yak and the zebu. the yak is found in tibet and other parts of central asia, where it is tamed and put to work, but not to pull the cart or the plough. it can carry heavy loads and travel twenty miles a day. [illustration: hauling sugar cane in puerto rico] this animal has a thick coat of long, silky hair, which hangs nearly to the ground. ropes and cloth are made from it. the tail is just a great bunch of long hair. the yak does not bellow like the ox but gives a short grunt. its milk is very rich, and fine butter is made from it. [illustration: the white yak of the asiatic mountains] the zebu is kept in india, china, east africa and the islands of the eastern seas. it is much like the ox but has a big hump of fat on its shoulders. sometimes there are two humps. in this way it is like the camel. some of the zebus are larger than any oxen and some are only as big as a large mastiff dog. they are quiet, gentle animals, made to work in the plough and in the road and also used for riding. they can travel from twenty to thirty miles a day. there is another animal much used for the same kind of work, the buffalo. this is not the animal long known in our country as the buffalo, but which is really not a buffalo, its proper name being bison. it is not a savage animal and could easily have been tamed and put to work. but as the settlers in the colonies had the ox and the horse already trained to their work no one tried to tame the bison. since no one cared for these great animals, the hunters got after them and shot them in such vast numbers that now they are nearly all gone. where fifty years ago there were millions of them in the west, to-day there are only a few hundreds to be found anywhere. [illustration: the american bison alone on the prairie] the real buffalo is found in the south of asia and europe, where it is tamed and put to work, much use being made of it. there is another species found in africa which is very fierce and savage, hunters often being more afraid of it than they are of the lion. the buffalo of india is also savage in its wild state and the princes of that country set it to fight with the tiger in their public shows. armed with great, sharp horns, it is more than a match for the tiger. in its tame state the buffalo is a very docile animal when it is well treated, but will not bear bad treatment. in size and shape it is like a large, clumsy ox, but it is much stronger than the ox and can carry or draw a much heavier load. thus it is of great value as a working animal. [illustration: reproduced by permission of the philadelphia museums cultivating rice field with the chinese ox. hawaii] it is used in many parts of the east. the farmer in the philippine islands could not get along without it, as it is his common helper in the fields. known there by the name of carabao, it is loved by its owner and played with by his children, and is the plough-horse of the islands. it can be driven by a mere child. the plough used there is no more than a heavy stick of wood sharpened to a point at one end, with a handle for the farmer and a beam to which the buffalo is harnessed. this is the way in which the rice fields of the east are worked. the buffalo is also kept in egypt, greece, italy and some other countries and everywhere is a very useful working animal. but it has one habit that needs to be looked after. by nature it is a swamp dweller, and can keep its head under water for two minutes at a time, feeling at the bottom of pools and streams for certain favorite plants. if it is to be kept in health it must have its daily mud-bath. it loves to fling itself in the mire and shuffle about until it is covered with mud from its tail to its eyes. when it has dried itself in the sun it looks like a huge clay image. it has its reason for this, for in those swamp regions are millions of stinging flies and the mud is intended as a coat of armor. strong as the buffalo is, it cannot work for more than two hours without rest, and will not live long if kept at a distance from streams. its fondness for mud and water is the habit that needs to be looked after. it is not safe to load it with any goods that are likely to be spoiled by water, for it will lie down with its load in any stream it comes near. travellers who have ridden on the philippine carabaos have found out this habit in a way not to their liking, for they have more than once been flung suddenly into a mud-bath by their ugly steeds. if the animal sees a bed of mud along the road he is sure to fling himself into it unless kept out by a strong rein. and unless his rider gets off in a hurry he will be treated in the same way. in italy the buffalo is most at home in the pontine marshes, and no one can keep it anywhere unless there are mud and water near at hand. [illustration: reproduced by permission of the philadelphia museums the carabao, the working animal of the philippine islands] the lapland reindeer while the buffalo is the draught animal of the sultry south and the ox of the more temperate regions, in the freezing north the reindeer takes their place. among the many species of deer, some of which, as the moose and elk, are large and strong, this is the only one that has been made to work for man. the people of lapland could not live without it, and it is also of very much use to the tribes of northern siberia. we have the same animal in the northern parts of america, where it is called the caribou, but there it has rarely been tamed and is hunted as game. the laplander uses the reindeer as we use the horse and as the eskimo uses the dog, as a travelling animal. it is strong and swift and can easily draw a weight of two hundred pounds on a sledge. it can travel for a long time at a speed of nine or ten miles an hour. a rich laplander is a man who owns a great many reindeer, some of them having herds of two thousand or more. to the men of lapland, as we are told, "the reindeer serves as a substitute for horse, cow, sheep, and goat." it gives fine milk, is a good traveller, its hair is of use, and its flesh and skin are of much value. almost every part of the dead animal can be used in some way, so that it serves the laplander dead or alive. it is not hard to keep. in the summer it feeds on the shoots of the willow and the birch, and in winter on the reindeer-moss and other snow-covered plants. to get at these it uses both its hoofs and its long, branching antlers in digging through the snow. this is the way in which various hoofed animals keep themselves in the winter, such as the musk-ox of the far north. the horse does the same in such cold countries as iceland. [illustration: herd of reindeer brought from lapland for the use of the indians of alaska] as i have said, we have a reindeer of our own in the caribou, but no one has really tamed it and put it to work. yet it would be useful in the north of canada, and reindeer have been brought from lapland to alaska and labrador. they seem to do well there and may in time become of much service to the indians and to white settlers. the ship of the desert far away from where we live, in what may be called the world of the east, there are mighty deserts, almost oceans of sand. these are oceans without water, vast tracts of land in which no blade of grass can grow, except where a green oasis rises like an island in their midst. such a desert covers nearly the whole of arabia and other wide regions in asia. on the map of africa may be seen a still greater one, that which bears the name of the sahara. in these deserts no rain falls to water the thirsty soil, springs are few and far apart, and those who travel through them must carry food and water on their journeys. these great sand oceans have their native animal, the humped and long-necked camel, the "ship of the desert," as it is fitly called, since it carries freight and passengers over the sand-strewn lands as ships do over the wide seas. an ugly brute is the camel, with its humped back, its long neck, short legs, and bunches of shaggy hair. but ugly as it is the arab finds something in it to praise, and could not well live in the desert without it. arabia and the other deserts of asia are the camel's native soil, and nature has fitted it well for its home in the sands. it does not belong to the sahara, but was taken there by the arabs. but it finds itself much at home on that world of sand. it is not well suited for fertile countries, though it is used in india and china to carry loads for their people. the camel is a two-toed animal but is like the horse in having only one hoof. this is a broad pad or cushion which takes in both its toes and fits it to travel over the soft sand. it is not hard, like the horse's hoof, but elastic so as to yield at every step. [illustration: a sahara desert scene. the mohammedan driver hobbles the animal's foot while at prayer] it is not only by its foot that the camel is fitted to dwell in the realms of sand, for it seems made for the desert in every part of its body. there are two kinds of camels, the arabian, with one hump, and the bactrian, of the northern deserts, with two humps, and it is these which give it so ugly a shape. are these humps a kind of saddle made for man's use, you ask? not at all, for the camel had them before there were any men to ride him. they are really food supplies, masses of fat which help to keep the animals alive on long journeys. no wise arab will set out to cross the desert without feeding his camel until its hump is full and plump, for in this the animal carries its own food. it dines and sups on its hump when there is nothing else to eat, so that the hump shrinks and grows smaller. but how does the camel find water to drink in the dry desert? has it a water supply as well as a food supply? we should not think this possible, yet it has. in long journeys it needs water as well as food and inside it is a well-filled water vessel. there are "water-cells" in its stomach, in which about a gallon and a half of water can be stored away, enough to last for three days if no water is found. at times, when the rider is in great need of water, he will kill his camel so as to get this store from its stomach. there are still other ways in which the camel is fitted for a desert life. thus it has fine powers of sight and smell. it can smell water when it is more than a mile away and if tethered will break its halter and run in a straight line for the well or spring. its nostrils are mere slits, which it can close when the wind fills the air with sand. at times a burning wind called the simoon blows fiercely across the desert. then the camel falls on its knees, stretches its long neck like a snake along the sand, and closes its nostrils to keep out the sand carried by the wind. thus it stays till the storm is past. at the same time the driver wraps his face in his mantle and hides himself behind his beast. there is one other thing to say. the camel likes good food when it is to be had, but it can live on any kind of plants. it will eat anything in the way of leaves, shrubs, dry sticks, or vegetable matter of any sort, and can live on food on which many animals would starve. you may see from all this how wonderfully it is fitted for a desert life. are we not right in saying that without the camel the arab would find it hard to live in the desert? for ages past long caravans of camels have been crossing the sea of sand from the fertile lands of the nearby countries to the oases where the settled arabs dwell. not until the camel is four years old does its training as a carrier of loads begin. then it is taught to kneel down and to rise at a given signal, light weights being at first put on it and heavier ones afterwards. it can carry heavy weights, its loads ranging from to pounds, some breeds of camels being much stronger than others. in desert journeys it is expected to carry this load twenty-five miles a day for three days without drink. the swift animals used for riding will carry their rider with his food and water fifty miles a day for five days without drinking. a camel lives from forty to fifty years, so you may see that it is of great value to its master. [illustration: a rug laden caravan] if too heavy a load is put on its back the camel will not rise from its knees; but when once on foot it is very patient and will plod on under its heavy load until it is ready to die. when its load is taken off it does not seek the shade, like other animals, but kneels down in the full glare of the sun, as if it loved the burning sand. the dromedary there are almost as many breeds of camels as there are of horses, and the kind used for riding is as different from the load-carrier as the race-horse is from the cart-horse. the burden-bearer has a thick body, heavy feet, coarse hair, and a slow pace. the racing breed is thin of body, fine-haired, and much more elegant in shape. it is as celebrated for its swift speed as is the arabian horse, and a good animal is able to carry its rider a hundred miles in a day. while all the single-humped camels are often called dromedaries, it is more correct to speak of the racing camel as the dromedary. an arab sheik is as proud of a fine animal of this kind as an american or englishman is of his fine race-horse. but if any of you should ever be asked to mount a camel it would be wise to decline the honor, unless you are good at holding on, for camel-riding is an art that must be learned. the awkward animal has a swinging and jolting gait that is hard to get used to. during the world's fair at chicago in one of the greatest amusements of the midway was to see people trying to ride the camels which had been brought to the egyptian section of the fair. it was much better fun for the lookers-on than for the riders. in camel-riding a saddle is not used, as on the horse, but a sort of platform is fastened on the hump. the camel we have so far spoken of is the one-humped arabian kind. the two-humped or bactrian species is larger and stronger but is not nearly so common. it is found in the desert region of the north from the black sea to china. both kinds are found in central asia, but the bactrian goes as far north as siberia, where the cold is often very severe and it has to live on the leaves and twigs of the willow and birch trees. though the camel is fitted by nature for life in the desert, it is much used elsewhere. for ages past it has been the great carrier in asia, long camel trains, or caravans, taking the place of the modern railroad train. it is also used for pulling carts and for ploughing, in which yokes of four camels may be seen. you could not think of anything more awkward or clumsy-looking than a camel harnessed to a cart. [illustration: from madeira's hunting in british east africa camel hauling water. the camel is used alike as a carrier and a drawer of burdens] if any one asks about the intellect of the camel we can only say that it does not show much sign of having any. it seems to be a stupid creature, with only sense enough to protest against bad treatment. in most cases it is very docile but if ill-treated it can be as obstinate as a mule. also it bears in mind a wrong done to it and will at times wait a long time to revenge itself. the camel-driver knows this and if he thinks the animal is waiting its chance to attack him he will throw his clothes before it. these the animal tosses and tramps on in a wild rage. after that it appears to forget the wrong done it and the man is safe. [illustration: reproduced by permission of the philadelphia museums yaks picketed near camp in india] the camel is useful to its owner in other ways than those mentioned. thus it supplies him with food, the arabs being fond of the flesh of the young camel, which tastes like veal. camel's milk is also excellent to drink and can be made to yield butter and cheese. the hair is woven by the arab into cloths suitable for clothing and for tent covers and the finer hair is used for paint brushes. so living and dead the camel serves his master. the llamas and alpacas if my readers are now ready to leave the deserts of asia and go with me to the mountains of south america they will find there the only animals on the earth that are relatives of the camel. how the family of the camels came to be so widely separated no one knows. as it is, we find than on two sides of the earth with no links to join them. in peru and chile there are four different kinds of these camels of the new world, two of which, the llama and alpaca, have been tamed, the others being wild. these are not animals of the desert, but lovers of the hills, as they dwell on the highest parts of the andes. like the camels of the east, they have long been in the service of man. the llama was the bearer of burdens for the old peruvians and is a burden-bearer to-day, though the mule is beginning to take its place. these animals do not look like the camel. their backs have no humps and their heads are more like that of the deer. instead of the small ears of the camel they have erect ears like the mule. but they have long necks like the camel, also cushioned feet and a stomach that is fitted to hold water. this is strange in animals that have no need to store up water. it seems as if the habit of storing water began very long ago among the ancestors of the camel tribe. the llama is a much smaller animal than the camel, being about three feet high at the shoulders. it keeps its head raised like a deer and is a gentle and docile animal, though it has a habit that is not much liked by those that make it angry. this is to squirt a mouthful of its yellow spittle into their faces. this has an unpleasant odor and this nasty habit makes drivers careful not to overwork the animals. [illustration: a llama train descending the mountains of peru] the llama is a sure-footed creature, knows how to find food for itself, and can carry a weight of a hundred pounds about twelve miles a day. this makes it very useful for the miners of the andes, who use it to carry their ore down the rough and steep mountain paths. when the animals are tired they will lie down, and the only way to make them get up is to take off their loads. that is another way they have to make their drivers treat them kindly. the alpaca is a smaller animal than the llama and is not used to carry goods, but for all that it has its uses and is kept in large flocks on the high levels of the andes. its value lies in its wool. while the hair of the llama is coarse and of little use, the alpaca is covered with a long, fine wool, of a silky lustre, which if left uncut will grow to twenty, and even to thirty inches in length. if cut every year it grows to be about six or eight inches in length. its color is often a yellowish-brown, but is sometimes gray or black. for very many years the indians have made their blankets and cloaks of alpaca wool, and for more than fifty years it has been used in europe and america to make shawls, coat-linings, umbrella-covers and other goods. the wild species have also a very delicate and soft wool, of high value in weaving, but it is not nearly so long as that of the alpaca. the arctic beast of burden a fact many of you may know is that nearly all the animals kept by man for work or for food are those with hoofed feet. among other animals that he puts to work may be named the dog, and this is not used much as a worker. a little has been said in former pages about working dogs, but the only region in which the dog is kept only for work is in the arctic zone. the dog is the working animal of the eskimo and the only one. therefore in speaking of animals that work for man we must not forget the eskimo dog. [illustration: reproduced by permission of the philadelphia museums dog train hauling provision in northern canada] these big, strong, savage, thick-coated dogs of the realm of ice, are so much like the wolf that if let loose they would soon begin to make their living in the wolf's way. their owners do not think of making pets or hunters of them. they simply feed and drive them and keep them in order with the whip. what the eskimo dog dearly loves is a fight, and they snarl and snap at one another as savagely as any wolf could do. only the sharp use of the whip can keep them from fighting. the eskimos could not live in their cold country without the aid of these hardy animals. no other creatures could be found so well suited to their needs. with their thick and warm coat of hair these dogs can bear the greatest cold, and at night all they need for bed or shelter is a snow-bank into which they can dig and bury themselves. here they sleep as cosily as if they were in a bed of feathers. they will eat any kind of meat or fish, and can drag a sledge with great speed and for hours at a time over the ice. thus it may be seen that the eskimos and indians of the north have a useful servant in the dog. they hitch it to their sledges, the number of dogs varying with the load to be drawn. no reins are needed. there is a leader to the team trained to follow a trail and to obey its master's orders. the driver also carries a long, stinging whip with which he is very expert and can reach any dog in the team. if they get into a fight, as they are apt to do even when drawing a sledge, the whip is used to bring them back to their work. what would travellers in the sea of ice or seekers for the north pole have done without the dog? it has drawn them and their food in all their journeys over the ice and the eskimo dog is the only animal besides man that ever reached the pole. without its aid peary, the great explorer, would never have got to the north pole or got back again to his ship. is it not well to speak, then, about how the dog helped him in this famous discovery? when peary took his ship, the roosevelt, far to the north, he had on board more than two hundred dogs and plenty of walrus meat to feed them. when he went north over the ice these dogs were used to draw the sledges loaded with food and other supplies. the explorers had to walk; no dogs could be spared to draw them. [illustration: alaskan dog team. the winter mail-carriers] on his last dash to the north, from ° ´ north latitude to ° (a distance of about miles), he had five sledges and forty dogs. the sledges were the pick of twenty-five that had started from the ship and the dogs were the best of all his teams. also for drivers he had his four best eskimos. with these sledges and men and dogs he got to the north pole, which no one had ever reached before, and the faithful dogs shared the glory of the discovery. they came back with him--some of them, for some died on the way. the poor brutes did not know what they had done, and no doubt thought a good meal of walrus meat better than a dozen poles, either north or south. now shall we say something about the south pole? dogs have been used there too, but when lieutenant shackleton, the english explorer, made his famous journey in that region in , he took with him four of the hardy ponies of the north, thinking they would be better than dogs. but his ponies died, one by one, and he and his men had to drag their sledges back by hand, eating the frozen pony meat as they toiled along over mountains of ice. later explorers have taken dogs with them as better fitted for the work than the best ponies. the elephant in man's service i do not need to tell you what the elephant is like. almost everybody has seen this noble creature, the largest of all animals except the whale. it belongs in its way to the hoofed animals, though it has five toes on each foot. for these are covered by a sort of elastic hoof, something like that of the camel, which gives it an easy, springy step. though its home is in asia and africa, it has often been brought to america and shown in menageries and other places. it is a great, clumsy-looking brute, with a long, flexible trunk, ivory tusks, great flapping ears, stout legs and broad hoofs. the tusks, you know, are great overgrown teeth made of hard ivory. it does not look like an animal that could think, but few of the animals below man have done so many wise and smart things. only the dog and the monkey are its equals. i shall speak of its thinking powers further on, but here i wish to deal with the elephant as a worker for man. the wild elephant loves its freedom and fights hard against those who seek to capture it, but when taken and tamed is often very mild and gentle. in india large parties of men, four hundred or more in number, are sent out to drive the wild elephants into great, strong pens that have been built of heavy timbers. here tame elephants are used to hold the wild ones while they are being tied fast. by these and other means many of them are made captives and they soon become man's willing friends and helpers. the elephant is made use of in various ways. in ancient times it was often used in war. troops of elephants were made to rush on the ranks of enemies and kill them with trunk and hoofs. in this way even the roman armies were put to flight, they being scared when they first saw these huge, strange animals. but they soon learned how to frighten them with torches and drive them back upon their friends. the elephant has long been used in india as a working animal, and for this its great strength makes it of much use. it can lift and move heavy loads and a common elephant can carry half a ton for a long distance. but they need much care and cost a good deal to keep, for it takes about pounds of fodder a day to feed a large one. when at work they show very good sense and know well how to do things. you would think so if you could see them at work in piling or moving timber. i fancy you would laugh to see how nicely and neatly they do it and what good sense they show. the female elephants have no large tusks, so that they can use only their trunks in moving the logs, but the male animals use their great tusks as well as the trunk. they will push logs weighing a ton and a half with ease. if the log has to go into the river they will push and roll it along to the bank, and as it slides down the muddy bank to the water will give it a slap with the trunk, as if to say, "good-bye, old fellow; there you go." if the log to be moved happens to be jammed among the others, the wise animal soon sets it right. he will begin by getting his tusks under it and lifting it to the proper height. if the log is a heavy one, he will sink down on his knees so as to get a better lift upon it. it is a lesson in elephant wit to see him stack timbers. he will lift one end of the log nine or ten feet, and put it on top of the pile. then he will go to the other end and push this forward until the log lies straight. the driver helps him in this by words and signs, all of which he knows as well as a sheep dog knows the words of the shepherd. the best trained animals are put to work in the saw mills, where they move about with much care among the saws and other machines. one man who saw an elephant laying planks and slats to be sawed, said in a newspaper that he saw the animal shut one eye while it squinted along the bench with the other to make sure the timber was laid straight. perhaps the reporter had both eyes shut when he saw this. [illustration: elephant piling lumber. observe how the log is grasped between the trunk and the tusks] it must be said that elephants are in some ways like men and boys. there are willing ones and lazy ones; some that like to work and some that hate work. you will see the willing ones drag along a log that weighs two tons without a groan. the lazy ones may be as strong as the willing ones, but they will make a dreadful fuss over a log not half as heavy. they are like boys, too, in the fact that some of them have good tempers while others are cross and surly. there is one thing more to be said about the elephant. it knows how heavy it is and does not like to go over a weak place. thus it will not walk over a bridge until it has tried it to learn if it is strong enough, and it will not go into a boat without doing the same. you may see that it has sense enough to take care of itself. here is the story of an elephant that had every day to go over a small bridge. "he one day refused to go over it, and it was only by goring him most cruelly with the _hunkoss_ (a sharp iron goad) that the driver could get him to venture on the bridge, the strength of which he had first tried with his trunk. at last he went on, but before he could get over the bridge gave way and they fell into the ditch, which killed the driver and greatly injured the elephant." it is very likely that the wise animal had found it to be weak when he last crossed it and knew it was not safe. i must tell you the story of some elephants that were with a body of troops in the mountain region of india. in their march they came to a steep place where the men laid a stairway of logs for the elephants to climb up. the first elephant came to it, took a good look, shook his head, and backed off. when the driver tried to force him to climb he would not move, but roared like a scared boy. only when some change was made in the stairs could he be got to set foot on them, and he climbed up with great care, trying every step as he went. [illustration: reproduced by permission of the philadelphia museums a military elephant on duty, india] when he was part way up he came to a tree which he tried with his trunk and did not like. it seemed too weak. again he stopped. the driver tried to get him to go on with such words as "my life," "well done, my dear," "my son," and other kind words of which elephants are very fond, but he would not be got to move. then force was tried. the elephant roared terribly but would not stir. at length some other change was made in the logs. this the wise creature tried and then went on until he reached the top. when he got there he showed the greatest delight, caressing the keeper with his trunk and throwing dirt about in the most playful manner. the elephant that followed was a much younger one. it had watched its comrade go up with great interest, making movements with its head and trunk as if it was helping him. when he reached the top it gave a salute like the sound of a trumpet. but when it was called on to take its turn it was greatly scared and had to be forced to mount the slope. when it got near the top the older animal reached down his trunk and twined it around that of the younger and thus helped him to the summit. then the two animals greeted each other in the most friendly manner, as if they were old friends just met. they embraced each other with their trunks and stood for many minutes face to face as if they were talking over what they had done. all this goes to show that the elephant has a good deal of human nature in his huge carcass, and along with it a good deal of sound sense. anecdotes of the elephant the stories just told show that the great beast we are talking about has a keen idea of danger, often a better one than his drivers, and is more careful than a good many men we have seen. we give them as examples of the wit and wisdom of this sensible animal. if we look for stories of this kind among the other working animals, such as the ox, the buffalo, and the camel, we find little show of powers of thought, but of the elephant as a thinker there are very many interesting anecdotes. some of these you may like to read. the story has often been told that the elephant, when he wants to get something a little out of reach, will blow on the ground or a wall beyond, so as to drive it inward by the wind of his breath. here is the story of an elephant in which the cunning fellow took a different way of doing this. "i was one day feeding an elephant with potatoes, which he took out of my hand. one of them, a round one, fell on the floor, just out of reach of his trunk. after trying in vain to reach it, he at length blew the potato against the opposite wall with such force as to make it rebound, and he then without difficulty secured it." that is much like what a boy does in playing hand ball. the elephant has a good memory and also a fine sense of justice. it is not a safe animal to play tricks upon, for it does not forget the man who did this and will wait long for a chance to get even with him. here is an instance told by a captain shipp, who wished to learn for himself if the elephant would bear in mind an injury and try to repay it. one day he gave an elephant a sandwich of bread, butter and cayenne pepper. after he had waited for six months he visited the animal to see how it would act and began to fondle it as he had been used to do. the great beast showed no signs of anger and the captain thought that it must have forgotten him and his pepper sandwich. but suddenly, while he was not looking, the elephant filled his trunk with dirty water and drenched the captain from head to foot. you may see from this that elephants have very good memories. one gentleman tells of visiting some elephants in london, and moving out of reach with his cane a part of the hay one of them was feeding on. the great beast showed much anger at this act. "look out for him," said the keeper; "he will never forget it." the joker forgot it, for some weeks later he visited the same place and came within reach of the animal's trunk. instantly it made a savage blow at him, that would have cracked his skull and killed him on the spot if he had not jumped back. in fact, many instances might be given where elephants have killed those who had injured them. numbers of such tales could be told. here is a story that teaches more than one lesson of elephant nature. an english gentleman, mr. g. l. layard, was visiting ceylon and there saw a troop of working elephants coming up the road in the evening. mrs. layard asked if she might go down from the bungalow and see them nearer at hand. "certainly," said mr. birch, the gentleman who had them in charge. he took a bunch of bananas from the lunch table and led the way to a fine female elephant, who was swinging her trunk about and looking at them. he gave the fruit to the lady and said:-- "you may give them to her, mrs. layard; she is a nice, quiet beast." mrs. layard held them out to the elephant, who took them gently, put them in her mouth and swallowed them, and then fondled the giver with her trunk. after patting and talking to her for some time they walked back to the house, where something was said in praise of the animal. "yes," said mr. birch, "she is a noble beast, and very intelligent. she has killed two of her keepers within the last month." the lady grew pale as death on hearing this, and layard turned on the speaker in a rage. "and you let my wife put herself in that creature's power!" he cried. "what do you mean by that?" "oh," said birch quietly, "do you think i would have let mrs. layard go near her if there had been any danger! she is the quietest and best tempered beast in the stud. she was quite right to kill her keepers. they had robbed her of her food." you may see from this that there is a code of right and wrong among elephants. kind treatment they meet with kindness and ill treatment with revenge, and while they have a sense of justice they also have a sense of humor, and can give trick for trick. you can at times see them fairly laughing at some trick they have played. while an elephant was being shown at dublin, doing a number of things he had been taught, a little boy, full of mischief but not of sense, was doing everything he could to annoy the great beast. the elephant gave no sign of taking notice, but it saw all that was passing, and when the boy came near enough thrust out its trunk and snatched his hat from his head. then it turned half round, snorted loudly, and acted its part so well that all who were there thought it had swallowed the hat. the imp of mischief stood scratching his head and looking very blank, while the great animal appeared as if he enjoyed the joke highly. by the twinkle in his eyes he seemed to be laughing inwardly. in the end he drew the missing cap from his mouth and flung it into the boy's face with such an air of fun-making that all present broke into a loud roar of laughter. one would not think of such a huge brute playing tricks, but the elephant is fond of a joke and seems to enjoy it as much as one of us would. elephants will raise latches, open doors, and show a fondness for mischief in other ways. they will also steal and hide their theft if the chance offers. an american showman saw one of them pull up the stake to which he was chained, go to an oat-bin, wrench off the lock, raise the lid, and eat all he wanted. then he put down the lid again, went back to his place, poked the stake into the same hole, and stamped it down with his foot. when his keeper came the cunning brute looked as innocent as a lamb. the keeper raged and stormed on finding that he had been robbed, while the big thief stood quietly by, with an odd twinkle in its little eyes. here is another story of the same kind. "an elephant in india was chained to a tree, and his driver made an oven at a short distance in which he put his rice-cakes to bake, and then covered them with stones and grass and went away. when he was gone the elephant unfastened with his trunk the chain round his foot, went to the oven and uncovered it, took out and ate the cakes, re-covered the oven with the grass and stones as before, and went back to his place. "he could not fasten the chain again round his own foot, so he twisted it round and round it in order to look the same, and when the driver returned the elephant was standing with his back to the oven. the driver went to his cakes, discovered the theft, and, looking round, caught the elephant's eye as he looked back over his shoulder out of the corner of it. instantly he detected the culprit and punishment followed. the whole affair was seen from the windows by the family." no other animal has a weapon that can compare with the trunk of the elephant. with this long and flexible nose he can tear off great limbs from trees, and with the same trunk can be taught to pick up a pin. but great and strong as he is, the elephant is very nervous. he is ready to fight a tiger, yet mosquitoes disturb him very much and we are told that he is as much afraid of a mouse as any nervous girl, and will trumpet with terror if one comes near him. elephants like bright colors and sweet perfumes, they are very dainty in their tastes, and are as fond of bathing as any one of us could be. they dearly love to revel in the water, and an elephant bath is something worth seeing. it is wonderful what tricks they can be taught and how neatly they will go through with them. in circuses and menageries the tricks of trained elephants are things people like to see. most of us have seen how these animals, clumsy as they look, can balance themselves on tubs, stand on their hind legs like a poodle, with their fore-feet in the air, and do many other tricks, such as standing on their heads, with their hind feet raised. [illustration: reproduced by permission of the philadelphia museums a state elephant of india with howdah] baby-elephants also can be taught to play many tricks, such as to sit at table, use the fan, and the like. we are told of two of them named jock and jenny, that would come in, bow to the audience, mount on a plank, and see-saw like a couple of children. one of them would then walk on the tops of a double row of bottles. they would also play on an organ and drum, dance to the sound of bells, and do other clever tricks. if we seek elephant stories of another kind there are a number of cases in which the animals have been hurt and borne surgical treatment with great patience. there is a case where one went blind through some disease in its eyes. nitrate of silver was applied to one eye and caused so great a pain that the animal roared wildly. but the treatment did the eyes so much good that when the doctor came the next day to try it on the other eye, the animal lay down, placed his head quietly to one side, and drew in his breath as we would do when expecting to be hurt. when it was over he gave a sigh of relief, and showed how grateful he was by movements of his trunk. this is one out of various tales of this kind that could be told. the elephant here learned by the good done to one eye that he was going to be helped with the other, and made up his mind to bear the pain for the good it would bring him. not many animals can learn things without being taught, but the elephant can. one thing a tamed elephant is taught to do is to pick up things from the ground and hand them to the driver on his shoulders. at first he is made to pick up only soft articles, for he is apt to throw them up with force and might hurt the man above. after a time the animal gets to notice the difference between soft things and hard things. a bundle of clothes may still be thrown up with force, but a hard and heavy thing, such as a piece of iron chain, will be handed up gently. the wise creature learns in time to pick up a sharp knife by its handle and lay it on his head so that the driver can also take it up by the handle, and when made to pick up things it has never seen before it shows that it knows how to deal with them. we might go on and give many other examples of the mental powers of the elephant, but enough have been given to show that this great creature is one of the most sensible of all beasts and is as quick at learning the best way to do things as any others of the animal tribe. and it can think out things for itself, which shows finer thought than to have them taught it by others. [illustration] iv animals used for food and clothing when we think of the many things man does with the animals he has tamed, the first that comes into our minds is their use in hunting and as house guards and pets. but we must not forget how useful they are as workers, in the fields and in the roads, in war and in peace. for long ages they were the only helpers that men had in work and travel. only within our own times have we found out how to put the forces of nature at work for us and how much stronger those are than any animals. the animals kept by us have one value for which the forces of nature can never serve. that is their value for food. while we can use the power of the winds and of coal and iron in doing work, we cannot feed upon these or anything of this kind. to live we must have food, and this we can get only from the world of plants and animals. we also use the skins and furs of animals for clothing, and weave warm cloths out of their wool and hair. these are the things i now propose to talk about. the cattle of the field is there anything that adds more to the beauty of a scene in the country than the grazing cows that give life to the fields, now cropping the grass, now resting under the shade of the trees, now wading in cool streams, now lying in midday rest? they are so mild and gentle, and look at us so quietly out of their big, kindly eyes that we cannot help keeping a soft spot for them in our hearts. [illustration: making friends with a guernsey calf] they wear horns, but they do not use them, and we can walk through a herd of these large animals as safely as through a grove of trees; that is, if they are all cows, if there is not a bull among them. the bull, the male form of the cattle tribe, is a creature we must watch. if he happens to be cross and bad-tempered, as is often the case, he is not safe to trust. it is certainly not wise to wear a red coat or hat in a field where a bull is kept, for he seems to look on this color as a challenge to battle. to have to run from a bull is no fun, at least not if he gets close enough to help you over a fence with his horns. but we seldom see a savage cow. these are quiet, dull animals, that have no thought of anything but to crop the grass and flick off the flies from their skin with their waving tails. they do not have to take care of themselves. their masters and mistresses take care of them, so they have nothing to do or think of but to grow fat and yield milk. there are wild cattle in various parts of the earth, and these have to take care of themselves, but the cattle of our fields have been kept tame so long that it is hard to tell from what wild species they came. we know that they were kept by the people of egypt and china thousands of years ago, and that the egyptians had certain bulls which they worshiped as gods. the bull and the cow are sacred animals in india and are never killed for food by the hindu people. in modern times the cow has been kept chiefly for the milk she gives. she is also kept as a food animal, but is not made to work, like the bull and the ox. the animal that is killed for food is a large, well-fed beast, with straight back and well developed body. as for the bull, its savage nature is made use of in the bull-fights of spain and it is also used in the "bull-races" of the south of france. cows, as well as bulls and oxen, have two horns on their head. in some breeds these are very long and powerful, but there are others that have no horns and in fighting use their heads to butt with. in this way they can give a powerful blow. with his head, his horns and his hoofs an angry bull is an animal that it is best to keep away from. cattle are of many colors and it is this which gives beauty to many of them. among them we find such colors as black, white, yellow, brown, fawn, reddish brown, black-spotted and other hues, this variety of colors giving new beauty to a herd of grazing cows. it is a pretty sight to see them strolling up the leafy lane in the evening to the milking shed, with a boy and a dog to keep them moving. milk-giving cows there are a number of animals from which men get milk, but chief of all these is the cow. those are breeds of cows which are kept only for milk-giving and which have been brought to yield so much and such rich milk as to make them of great value. in all history we read of the milkmaid, the girl whose duty it is to milk the cows, one of the chief duties on a farm. nowadays we do not hear so much about the milkmaid. she has for the most part gone out of business. no doubt, many of my young friends have seen how milking is done, the cow with its full udders, the white stream of milk which flows from the teats when pressed, and the large quantity of this rich fluid which some cows will give. perhaps some of you may have tried the art yourselves, but it is an art that needs to be learned, and many cows will not yield their milk to awkward fingers. some of them, indeed, when they do not like the milker, will kick over the full bucket and now and then the milker with it. in some way the cow turns part of the grass she eats into this rich fluid, so useful to mankind, not only as a drink, but for the butter and cheese it yields. nature provides milk to all animals of the class known as mammals as food for their young, but by long usage the cow has been brought to give milk at all times and thus helps to feed her keepers as well as her calves. i hardly need tell you that milk is a white fluid in which float small globes of fat. this fat is the butter of which we make so much use. if the milk is let stand, the butter floats to the top and is skimmed off in a rich fluid we call cream. by various modes of churning the butter is got out of the cream, leaving a thin liquid behind called buttermilk. butter is not the only thing got from milk. cheese is another product of much use. it is made from the solid parts of the milk. when an acid, or a substance called rennet, which is obtained from the calf's stomach, is put into the milk, the solids come together in a soft, white jelly, leaving a greenish, watery liquid called whey. it is from this jelly, or curd, that cheese is made by pressing out the whey and leaving a hard, solid mass. there are many ways of making cheese and many different kinds of cheese, often so unlike that we can scarcely think they came from the same source. [illustration: back to the pasture after the milking] now let me say something about the various breeds of milk-giving or dairy cows. they differ very much. some give a great deal of milk; some much less. there are cows that have given as much as twenty-four quarts of milk a day. think of six gallons from one cow in one day, enough to fill a vessel of large size! others may give only ten quarts or even less. but the cow that gives the most milk does not always give the best, for there is great difference in the richness of milk. thus the best butter makers may not be those that fill the fullest pail. the quantity of milk depends on the food eaten, the kind and plenty of grass in the fields or hay in the stables. but the amount of butter in it seems to come from something in the animal herself. you have often heard, and perhaps often seen, the different breeds of dairy cows, the jerseys and others. there are many of these breeds. the dutch cattle, those that come from holland, are mostly good milk-givers, also those of holstein and friesland yield a very full pail, and there are splendid milk-givers elsewhere. all of us must have seen the beautiful cows from the channel islands, near the coast of france, known as jerseys and guernseys, often called alderneys, now so common in our fields and which give such rich milk, from which splendid butter is made. we may also speak of the ayrshire cow of scotland, which is of high value to the cheese-maker. all these and other cows have been brought in numbers to this country, which has no good breeds of its own. did any of my readers ever try to churn cream into butter? those who have done so did not find it very easy work. to lift a long rod up and down or turn a handle till your arms feel ready to drop off is never the best of fun. in past times all butter-making had to be done in this way, with some sort of churn, but now in large dairies a small engine is used to do the work. in our days great part of the butter is made in creameries to which the farmers take their milk. here the cream from or cows may be dealt with by one skilful butter-maker, who handles it with great care, so that we get a better quality of butter than was of old made on most of the farms. [illustration: from davis's practical farming the holstein cow, a great milk giver] this way of getting the butter from the cream was started in the united states, where now there are thousands of creameries in the many states. from this country it has spread to many parts of europe, but there most of the butter is still made on the farm. cheese is also made in the same wholesale way and american cheese is sold in many parts of the world. we use here so much milk and butter that it is not easy for us to see how people anywhere can do without it. yet there are parts of the world where cow's milk is not used. thus if one should go to china he would find the people making no use of the milk of their cows. and in india the milk of the buffalo is liked better than that of the cow. even in parts of europe little use is made of milk and butter. this is the case in italy, where olive oil takes the place of butter. but almost everywhere, except in india, much use is made of cattle for food, and of this something must now be said. beef-making cattle in the united states the raising of cattle for meat is a great business. for years past this country has fed its own people and helped to feed those of europe. the meat of cattle killed in chicago and other cities is sold in the markets of london and other parts of england and the people of that country have long been growing fat on american beef. this is not so much the case in germany, france, and russia, for great numbers of cattle are raised there, but at times we could find the beef of our country on the tables of most of these lands. when the white man went to america he found no cattle there. but it was not long before there were plenty of them, brought from spain, france, england and other countries. these spread all over the continent until there were cattle everywhere. but these were not the best of cattle. there were no fine breeds raised here as in europe. [illustration: reproduced by permission of the philadelphia museums ox team and native cart, with wooden wheels, nicaragua] this is the reason why so many jersey, ayrshire, dutch and other fine milk-givers have been brought here from europe. meat-making cattle have also been brought, those known as shorthorns, herefords, and others, and now we can find in our fields great numbers of fine, fat animals, which are taking the place of the old poor stock. good beef cattle are large and square in shape, full and broad over the back, with thick legs, short necks, and well rounded bodies. the eye is bright, the face short, the skin soft, the flesh mellow and rich. cattle of this kind are to be seen now in numbers in our fields. but the great cattle-raising sections of this country are the broad grassy plains of the west and the vast fields of texas. here may be seen the great ranges, where for long years past cattle have been kept by the millions, roaming about, feeding on the rich grass, and growing fat and juicy. here also is the home of the cowboy, the man who lives on the horse and rides as if horse and man were one animal. his duty it is to ride among the great herds, keep them in order, stop them when they run away in mad fright, and live among them as the sheep-dog lives among the sheep. brave fellows and splendid riders are these cowboys, among the best in the world. if you should go west to-day you would not find the open cattle range of the past. the cattle-owners have found it best to fence in their ground, and wire fences may now be seen all over that once open country. but the fields thus made are very large and the cowboy still finds plenty to keep him busy. if we seek other parts of the world we shall find cattle-ranges like those of the united states. in south america there are two great regions of this kind. one of these is in venezuela. here are great open plains called llanos, covered with rich, thick grass on which millions of cattle feed. the same is the case with the pampas of argentina, vast prairies over which cattle roam in countless numbers. on those great plains dwell the brothers of the cowboy, daring riders whose lives are spent in the care of the grazing herds. the gauchos, as the cattlemen of argentina are called, are not the sons of civilized fathers like our cowboys. they are a race by themselves, bold and hardy, but ignorant, many of them part indian. but they are born and bred to the saddle and no riders can surpass them in handling their swift horses. of the other countries where great herds of cattle are to be found we may name south africa and russia. mongolia, in the asiatic part of russia, is a land of vast plains, called steppes. this may have been the first region in which cattle were kept. as far back as history goes the herdsmen of this great region have been roaming about with their cattle, horses and other animals, living in tents, and moving from place to place seeking new fields of grass when the old ones are cropped. this was their life thousands of years ago and this is their life to-day, and they seem no more civilized now than they were then. we do not care to talk about the killing of these fat herds. that has nothing to do with home-life, except in so far as we find their meat on our tables, for the killing is mostly done in great sheds and pens built for that purpose. it will be enough to say that the animals we have been talking about are of the greatest use to man. they work for him, they feed him with their milk and flesh, and after their death nearly every part of them is of use. from their skins leather is made and we walk upon their hides in our shoes. from the bones glue and gelatine are obtained, and when the bones are ground they are used to fertilize our fields. in fact use is made of nearly all parts of the animal and hardly a scrap of it goes to waste. [illustration: an ox-team on a florida plantation] in the bull ring the bull is not a nice animal to deal with. it is often surly and savage, and few of us care to be in the same field with it. in some parts of the world its courage is made use of in a brutal kind of sport. in former times what was called bull-baiting was very common in england, and might be to-day only for the laws. a bull was driven into a closed-in place and dogs were sent in to fight with him. sometimes, to make him furious, pepper was blown into his nose before he was set free. at times a dozen or more dogs were sent in at once. at other times the bull was tied to a stake by a rope of some length, and bulldogs were set upon him, one at a time. they were trained to seize the fierce animal by the nose, which was called "pinning the bull." but the best fun to the lookers-on was when the bull lowered his head to the ground, caught a dog on his horns and tossed him a long distance away. bull-baiting was kept up until , when laws were passed to stop this cruel sport. but bull-fighting, which has long been very common in spain, is still kept up in that country. in ancient times fights between bulls and men were common in greece and rome, but in modern times they have been held only in spain and its colonies. they may be seen to-day in the cities of spain and mexico. as we have a baseball season in this country so they have a bull-fight season in spain. in the city of madrid it lasts from april to november, there being at least one fight every week. the fights are held in a kind of circus, with seats for , or , people, who have to pay well to see the brutal game. there are three classes of men who take part in a bull-fight. the first of these are the "picadores." these fight on horseback, each of them with a lance. if the bull is a coward they crowd upon and kill it. if it is brave they often have to fight for their own lives. the bull may lift the poor horse on its horns or may throw the rider, who is sometimes killed. [illustration: reproduced by permission of the philadelphia museums carting manila hemp. philippine islands] when the picadore is in danger the second class, the "chulos," run in. they wear bright-colored cloaks and gay ribbons and draw the bull after them by waving their bright cloaks in his face. when the bull shows signs of being tired these men throw darts at him which stick into his neck. some of these bear fire-crackers, the noise of which makes the bull furious. [illustration: reproduced by permission of the philadelphia museums moose in harness. this is a rare use of this great deer-like animal] now the third man comes in, the "matadore." he is on foot and carries a sword, and in his left hand is a short stick with a piece of red silk tied to it. when the angry bull sees this red stick he rushes at it, for he hates anything red. now the matadore has his chance. with one quick stroke he thrusts the sword into the animal between the shoulder-blade and the spine, driving it in to the hilt, and the poor bull falls dead. then a team of mules, gay with flags and bells, enter and drag out the dead bull, another is driven in, and the fight begins again. the horses and bulls are the chief sufferers, it being said that about bulls and horses are killed every year in the bull-fights of spain. the horses used are poor creatures, only fit to end their lives in a bull-fight. the people cheer the matadore for his victory; but they are quite as ready to cheer the bull that has killed his man. but it is a rare thing for a man to be killed in the fight, usually it is only the poor animals that suffer. the other nations of europe and the people of this country do not like bull-fights. they look on them as cruel and unfit for civilized times. but the people of spain love them and will not give them up. the wool-clad sheep long, long ago, hundreds of years before men began to write history, perhaps before they had tamed any other animal, the woolly creature called the sheep began to share the home-life of man. in the first pages of the bible we find its name. abel, the second son of adam and eve, was a keeper of sheep before he was killed by his brother cain. it may have been kept in very early times in all parts of the earth, for the sheep can live in all climates, from hot to cold, and its meat and wool are of great use for food and clothing. also it is easily tamed, and in the ages of the past it became so used to being taken care of that it has long forgotten how to take care of itself. thus the sheep that crop the grass in our fields have come to be stupid animals. but this is not the case with the wild sheep which are found in various parts of the earth. these are quite able to fight their own battles and are sharp-witted, like most wild animals. it is only the female sheep, the ewe, that is so dull. we all know that the male sheep, the ram, is much more wide-awake. these often have very large horns, and the wild ram knows quite well how to take care of himself and his family. they will run from danger if they have to, but if cornered can make a very good fight. even one of our field rams has at times shown itself a good match for a bull. while much smaller in size, it is far more active and can hit a very hard blow with its bony head and big horns. have you ever seen a fighting ram? one of them has been known to throw a bull to the ground at the first rush. it can fight dogs, too, and is always ready to defend itself and its flock. rams also fight one another, and when two of them come together at full run, their heads crack like the sound of a musket and their hind parts are lifted into the air. many sheep have no horns, and these are not so fond of fighting, as the horns are a great help to them. men keep sheep for two things, their wool and their meat. the same is the case with cattle, which are also kept for two things, their milk and their meat. all over the earth people are fond of mutton, or the meat of the sheep, while the wool is used wherever warm clothes are needed. in some cold countries the skin of the sheep, with its woolly coat, is used as a cloak and is found a warm covering. the wool of wild sheep is short and lies below an outside coat of long, straight hair. but this hair is lost in the tame animals and a coat of long, thick wool takes its place. wool, you should know, differs from hair in having a scaly surface, which causes its fibres to cling together. this makes it good for twisting into yarn and weaving into cloth, also for felting, as in the making of felt hats and rugs. of course very many of you have seen the sheep in the field, walking slowly about all day long, cropping, cropping, cropping, as if eating were all it lived for. this is the case all over the earth, for sheep are the most common of our farm animals and are kept in vast multitudes in various countries. so tame and gentle are they that the shepherd and his dog can easily keep a large flock in order. he has to guard them in some countries against wolves and also against sheep-killing dogs. [illustration: cattle and sheep of the scottish highlands] the sheep is a mountain animal, not a native of the level plains like the horse and the ox. the wild sheep do not live on level ground but among the lofty hills and are often found in very high places. we have one species in our own country, the big-horn or rocky mountain sheep, which can climb over the roughest cliffs and plunge down steep places without hurting itself. there are other species in asia and africa, with the same habits. from this we know why tame sheep are so fond of hill climbing and why they do so well in such rough regions as the highlands of scotland. young lambs are very fond of climbing every little hill they see. when feeding, sheep like mountain sides better than they do plains. here they nibble away at the short, fine grasses, which they like better than any other food. you may have read of troubles and fights between the shepherds and cowboys of our western plains. this comes from the close nibbling of the sheep, which cuts the grass down to its roots and leaves no food for the cattle. on this account the cattlemen hate the sheep-men and in some cases kill large flocks of sheep. the sheep are said to do harm also on the mountain sides, clipping the grass so close with their sharp teeth that the rains carry away the soil, and leave none for the trees to take root in. there are a number of countries in which sheep are kept in mighty flocks. these are the united states, europe, argentina, australia and new zealand. there are numbers of them also in asia and africa and here there are several queer kinds, which would seem very strange to us. the oddest of these is the fat-tailed sheep. the tail of this animal grows to a very great size and has been known to weigh or pounds. it is a big bunch of fat of which the people of those countries are very fond. in some cases, to keep it from being hurt by dragging on the ground, little wagons are used and the sheep go about dragging their tail behind them in a sort of baby carriage. there is another kind with a huge hump of fat on its hind-quarters and hardly any tail at all. on the other hand the circassian sheep has a tail so long that it trails behind on the grass and is covered with fine, long wool. there is a kind of sheep in africa with very long legs and hanging ears, and in several places they have odd kinds of horns. those of the sheep of wallachia make a complete turn and then rise up from the head to a great length. the iceland sheep and some of those of russia has three, four, and even five horns. in europe sheep have been kept during many centuries and a number of useful breeds are now to be found in the different countries, some with fine, thick wool, some with rich, juicy meat. all of the sheep of this country were brought from europe, and many of the best breeds are kept here, among them the southdown of england, which is of value for its splendid mutton. but nearly the whole of our sheep came from the merinos of spain, a kind of sheep which has been kept in that country from the past ages on account of its fine, soft wool. the merino may now be found all over america and europe and also in australia, so that it is the most common kind of sheep on the earth. the first of them were brought to our country in and we have now many millions of their descendants. there is much more that could be said about sheep. no meat is more common on our tables than mutton and in all cold countries woolen clothing is worn. in bokhara, a country of central asia, is a sheep which yields the valuable _astrakhan_ fur. this is not taken from the full-grown sheep, but from the lambs. when very young these bear a short, fine wool, curled all over them in small locks. to make it curl better they are sewn up, while very young, in another skin or a piece of coarse linen. long hairs soon grow through the wool and to prevent this the lambs are killed when they are only a few days old. [illustration: the merino ram, the great wool bearer] there is still another use to which sheep are put. this is the making of cheese. there is a breed in the south of france which are milked and from their milk is made the famous roquefort cheese. in making this layers of moist bread crumbs, ground to powder, are placed between layers of the milk curds. this mixture is pressed and salted and then kept for a month or more in dark mountain caves. there the cheese ripens and gets the special flavor for which it is liked. wool shearing and weaving sheep are of value for various things: their meat, which so many like; their skins, from which parchment and fine leather are made; their bones, used in making buttons; their fat, for soap and candles; but most of all their wool, which has long been the most valued product. so here i must tell the story of this very useful animal fibre. go back as far as we can in history we read of the sheep-shearing. you may find it spoken of in the early parts of the bible as a time of feasting and merry-making. in many countries it is a festival time. in past ages people seem to have cared more for the wool than for the meat, though now sheep are kept as much for their mutton as for their wool. in the past the custom was to pull the wool from the sheep at the molting season. this is the time when the sheep shed their wool and when it comes out easily. but it is at times a cruel process, as the skin may come off with the wool. it is still done in ireland and in parts of europe, but the common custom in these days is to cut the wool with a sort of tool or machine. this cuts the wool in a smooth and even manner and does not hurt the sheep. it also can be done in much less time. when in the old way it took half an hour to shear a sheep, in the new way it can be done in ten minutes or less. the sheep should be washed and the wool cleaned before they are sheared and this is done in our country and in some others. but in many places it is not done and the fleece is cut with all the grease and sweat in it. of course, these fleeces have to be washed by the buyers, and do not bring so good a price. shall i say something about the uses of wool? in all times it has been used for making cloth for clothing, and spinning and weaving are very old duties of the household. if wool is made damp and then pounded it clings together so as to form a kind of felt, and in our times much wool is used in this way to make felts for hats, carpets and shoes. felting is a simple process, but in weaving there are many things to be done. the wool has to be combed out, spun into yarn, and handled in other ways before it can be woven into cloth and fitted for making into clothes. all this business of yarn-making and weaving is now done in great factories, fitted with machines, which rattle and roar as they swiftly change the rough fleeces of wool into smooth sheets of cloth. but all this work in former times had to be done at home, in a much slower way, from which there came a rough, coarse cloth called homespun. this was the way in use in this country in the times of the colonies. many of the old spinning-wheels, by which the wool was spun into yarn, are still kept and may be seen in museums, and some of the old looms by which the yarn was woven into cloth are also to be seen. it was hard work for the women of the house to make the clothing of the family in this slow way. a suit of clothes then had to be worn for a long time, for they took too much labor in the making to be thrown aside as quickly as they now are. it was in these homespun clothes that our soldiers won freedom in the revolution, and they were woven after that date. but in time the factory came, cloth grew plentiful and cheap, and the rattle of the old spinning-wheel was no longer heard in the land. the bearded goat now we come to an animal in some ways much like the sheep, but in other ways very little like it. this is the goat, a more vigorous and hardy animal. unlike the sheep, it wears a beard under its chin. it is not kept much in our country, for it is not well fitted for cold climates, but likes best the warm airs of southern europe and asia and northern africa. some of my readers may only know this animal from taking a ride in a goat carriage when young. or they may have seen it roaming about in rough places eating anything it could find, for that is the way with the goat. it will even eat tobacco and seems to think this a fine diet. the wild goat, like the wild sheep, is a dweller in the mountains. it is still more daring than the sheep. no peaks are too high for it to climb, and when chased by the hunter it will make long jumps from one pointed rock to another where no man would dare to follow. no other animal can equal the goat in climbing and leaping. it is even said that some kinds of goats will jump down from a high place and save themselves by falling on their strong horns. but i do not know if anybody ever saw this done. a well-known wild goat is the ibex of the alps. this is a splendid fellow, with long and strong horns but no beard. it used to be very common, but has been shot at so much that very few are left. the chamois of the alps is an antelope, but is much like the goat, and is a wonderful jumper. it thinks nothing of leaping over a ravine sixteen or eighteen feet wide, or over a wall fourteen feet high, or of running up and down very steep hills. but the hunters have killed most of these animals also. they think it fine sport to shoot a poor chamois and let it fall to die in a deep abyss where no one can reach it to get its body. there are many who do not think this good sport. goats, like sheep, were tamed and made natives of the home and farm very long ago, no one knows how long. the tame kind comes from the wild goat of southern asia, but it has grown smaller in size and its horns have become shorter. it was kept in bible times and by the old greeks and romans. these kept it for its milk and the cheese made from it, and also for its meat. the flesh of the kid, or young goat, is very good, but that of the old goat has a strong and unpleasant smell which few people can endure. [illustration: the alpine ibex. note the curiously knobbed horns] in modern times greece and its islands have more goats than they have people and there are many in malta and corsica, italy and spain. they are not kept largely in the united states, there being about one goat to every fifty sheep. the goat will thrive where the ox and the sheep would starve, as on rocky hill-sides or thin, poor soil. there is little they will not eat, though you had best not believe that they are fond of old tin cans or any diet of this kind. one bad habit they have is to gnaw the young shoots of trees, of which they are very fond. this makes them deadly to forests, for no young trees can grow where they are kept. the goat has done much to kill out the trees on the hills of southern europe and asia and thus to destroy the forests of those regions. it is also fond of the grape-vine, and on this account, in ancient times, it was sacrificed to bacchus, the god of wine. the goat is far from being so dull and stupid an animal as the sheep. it makes friends with its keepers and is a cunning and curious brute, though too fond of using its horns. this is often done in play, but in a way that is not very funny, except to those who look on. it will rear up and pretend to attack you with its head and horns, but this is only its way to ask you to play with it. the playful pranks of the kid, or young goat, are often spoken of in poetry. it is a gay little creature, fond of capering about in an amusing way. in fact the goat is not at all stupid and has often shown sense and cunning. there is a story of a goat that rang a door bell when hungry for its dinner, by hooking its horn in the wire. another story is of two goats that came face to face on a narrow ridge in the rocks. there was no room to pass and after looking at each other for some minutes one of them lay down and let the other walk over its body. two men could not have done better than that. the long-eared syrian goat is trained to do all sorts of tricks. one of these is to balance itself on a pile of small wooden blocks built up to a height of several feet. fancy a sheep doing this! [illustration: milk goats in the alps] if it be asked what are goats kept for, the answer would be, chiefly for their milk. goats' milk is very rich and is easy to digest and this makes it of much use for sick or feeble persons, to whom cows' milk is at times dangerous. it is very good for consumptive people. in parts of europe it is thought that certain diseases of horses and cattle will not come when goats are with them, so they are often kept in stables and cow-barns to ward off disease. though the goat is a small animal it gives a large quantity of milk, often from four to six quarts a day and sometimes more than this. there are cases where twelve quarts a day have been given. the milk is apt to have a bitter taste and an unpleasant odor, but that comes from the way the animals are fed and kept. with good care and food, the milk will lose this taste. the goats of syria and palestine give sweet milk and goats' milk is much used in that part of the world, as it was in the old bible times. the arabs have a great dislike for cows' milk. the milk of the syrian goats is also very good for making butter and cheese, which are said to be of very fine quality. much butter and cheese are also made in europe from goats' milk. these have a special taste of their own, but are much eaten, for one soon gets used to the taste. goats are made use of for other things than for their milk, butter, cheese and meat. in early times the goat-skin was used for clothing, and it still is in some countries. the skins are also used by the wandering tribes of asia as vessels to hold drinking water, and also, tightly sewed and blown out with air, as a sort of boat for crossing or floating down rivers. in our days the skins of goats are made into leather. kid skins are used for gloves and shoes, and goat skins for morocco, shagreen, and other fine kinds of leather. the hair is made into ropes which may be kept in the water without injury; also in england to make wigs for judges and others, the hair of white goats being used for this. goats' hair is also used to make brushes and hats. knife-handles and other things are made from the horns, and the fat is better than that of the ox for candles. [illustration: a pair of angora goats] i must now speak of two kinds of goats of use for their wool. one of these is the cashmere goat, from the wool of which the fine cashmere shawls are made. this goat has a coat of long, stiff hair, but under this is a very fine, soft, fleecy wool, white or gray in color. of this each goat yields from one to one and a half pounds. to make a shawl a yard long, takes the wool of twenty to twenty-five goats. they were formerly made in large numbers but in our days few of them are to be seen. the other wool-yielder is the angora goat, well known in this country. this yields a thick and fine wool, soft and silky and slightly curled. the color is mostly snow-white, though at times there are dark patches. it is shed in great locks in summer, but soon grows again. during the hot weather the goats are constantly washed and combed, to add to the beauty of their wool. the finest angora wool, called mohair, comes from goats a year old. all its value is lost at six years of age. in the pig-sty let us now take a glance at that grunting brute known to us by the various names of pig, hog, and swine, which dwells in the pig-sty when tame and in the forest when wild. clad in bristles, with thick skin, short legs, curled-up tail, no neck, and round snout, no one would buy the pig for a beauty. but in his case use goes ahead of beauty, and who will say that he is not of use? though the pig is a very docile brute in man's care, he is far from mild and gentle in his wild state. in fact, the wild hog is not an animal to be played with, nor is it a safe one to fight with. hardy and active, fierce and bold as a lion, with a strong head and long, sharp tusks in his large jaw, the hunter who goes out to seek him in his lair must do so with care and skill or the pig will get the best of the hunt. most of the beasts of the wildwood let the hog alone. he is not safe game. but for many long years he has been hunted by man, who likes a game that has a spice of danger. in the days of old rome the chase of the hog was a favorite sport, and it was the same in later times, when the lords and dukes of england and germany were very fond of hunting the wild boar. in our days "pig-sticking" is a common sport of the english in india. mounted on trained horses and armed with long, sharp lances, the hunters seek to bring down their game from the saddle. but if by any foul chance the hunter should be thrown from his horse near the hunted brute his chance for life is not good. the furious brute will rush upon him, and with one thrust of its strong jaws may rip his body open with a deadly wound. great nobles and warriors have met with death in this base way and the wild hog has held his own bravely among his enemies. is this fierce fighter of the forest the same animal as the lazy grunter of the pig-sty? there is no doubt of it. his long life under man's care has taken all the fight out of him. only in one way does he show his old temper. he is the most obstinate of all the animals we know. he does not like to be driven and will do his best to go just where you do not want him to. but he no longer fights to win his way; he only grunts or squeals and holds back. [illustration from madeira's "hunting in british east africa" the wart hog. an african tusked cousin of the wild boar of europe] try to drive a pig and you will find this out. you will soon be in a fret over the stubborn brute. if you want him to go forward you may find it best to try and drive him backward. an irishman tells us that this is the only way to "persuade" a pig. it takes a chinaman to make little piggy go the right way, and this is done by putting him in a basket and carrying him. two men carry this basket, hung on a pole. it is a sort of cradle in which piggy goes to market. the only time the pig can show his obstinate temper is when he is asked to go into the cradle. he holds back, as usual, but the cunning chinaman knows what to do. he takes hold of the pig's tail and gives it a hard pull as if trying to drag him backward and the stubborn brute at once rushes forward into his cradle. the pig will eat almost anything. by nature he is a plant feeder and in his wild state will roam the forest feeding on plants, fruits, and roots of all kinds. his hard snout helps him to dig into the ground in search of favorite roots and his keen sense of smell aids him in finding them. thus he likes wet, shady places where the ground is soft and such plants grow. in france and italy the pig is trained to hunt for truffles, a kind of fungus which grows under ground and which makes good eating. he finds the truffles by his sense of smell and roots them up with his snout. in some places dogs are trained to do the same. the truffle found, the pig's master rescues it for his own table. pigs are fond of mast, the name given to the acorns and beech nuts that cover the ground in the nutting season in oak and beech woods. in ancient times it was the common practice to fatten the pigs on these nuts in the proper season. a hungry pig is not particular about his food. if no plants are to be had he will feed on worms, snakes, and small animals of any kind. pigs in the pen are often fed on animal refuse, all sorts of kitchen slops being poured into their troughs. they will swallow this stuff greedily enough, but it is not good for them, or at least for those who eat their flesh, for this loses in flavor and is not so wholesome as when they are fed on good vegetable food. corn and clover are two of the things the pig likes best. turn him out into a clover field and he will have a joyful time of his own in this rich food and put plenty of good fat on his ribs. he does no harm to the field if not left there too long and it does good to him. in fattening pigs corn is freely given. it is not best to give corn alone, but it makes a good dessert after he has had the run of the pasture or clover field, and is the best fattener when he is being put in order for the market. in visiting a farm the pig-pen is one of the things we are shown. it is not a pleasant place for a morning call, for the smell is not a sweet perfume and the mire in which the pig rolls is not nice. we are apt to go away with the feeling that this animal is a dirty brute. this is giving poor piggy a bad name which he does not deserve. it is his owner more than himself that is to blame. if he had his own way he would be clean enough. like all thick-skinned animals the pig loves to wallow in the mire and cover himself with mud to protect him against insects. but left to himself he will keep his sleeping place clean. those who know how to keep pigs soon learn this and supply the animals with dry and clean places to sleep in. [illustration: a fat berkshire hog. a monarch of the sty] pork, or the flesh of the pig, has long been used as meat. in some places so much is thought of it that the animal is held to be sacred. it is the chief flesh food in the south sea islands, where the animal was long made a precious sacrifice to the deities. this was also the case in ancient greece, and on the island of crete the hog was a sacred animal. no people have ever been fonder of hog meat than the ancient romans, and we are told of strange ways by which they gave it a fine flavor. they fed their pigs with old, dried figs, drenched with wine and honey. this was to make their livers grow large, pig's liver being a choice roman dish. in cooking the meat they would often serve a pig whole, one side being boiled and the other side roasted. in dressing the animal for the tables of the emperors and of rich romans they would stuff it with such delicate food as larks and nightingales and serve it with wine and rich gravies. to eat pork in such ways would seem very odd in our days. in many countries pork is the favorite meat. we find it so in germany and france. in ireland every peasant raises his pig, which makes its home in the same hut with him and thinks itself one of the family. in the end the man often has to sell his pig to help him out of debt, and looks on the porker as "the gintleman that pays the rent." but the pig is not eaten all over the world. the jews and mohammedans will not eat it, and look upon it as an unclean animal. as there are nearly two hundred millions of these people on the earth, there are at least that many who do not eat pork. but aside from these, pork is eaten by the great mass of the people of the earth. the pig is not an american animal. all our pigs, and they are many millions in number, came from animals brought from europe. we have here the peccary, a kind of little pig, very savage and dangerous, as it goes in herds and attacks every man or other animal it meets. but it has never been tamed, and we owe our pigs to the spanish and other discoverers. our swine have grown mighty in numbers, and we pay the old world for its gift of the pig by sending it back every year many millions of dollars' worth of pork, bacon, hams, lard, and other pig products. the best foreign breeds have been brought here and other breeds have been produced here, so that the american pig is hard to beat. this country is the great corn country of the world and great part of its corn is fed to the pigs of the west, so that we sell much of our corn in europe in the form of pork. of the many breeds of pigs, that of china is one of the best. the chinese are as kind to their pigs as the irish and they have an animal worth being good to, one that has been sent abroad to many other countries. it is noted for its small size, fine head and snout, large hams and shoulders, compact body, fine bone, hair and skin and sweet, delicate meat. we have it in some of the best american breeds. if it be asked what the pig is used for, we should say that there is no part of it that is not used for some purpose. we eat it under the names of pork, bacon, ham and lard; its skin is made into leather, which is much used for saddles; the bristles are used for brush-making. in fact, when we think of all its uses, there is little left but the squeal and in our days even that may be used in the phonograph. [illustration: the razor-back hog of the south. compare this lean beast with the fat berkshire hog given above] we might look upon the pig as a stupid animal, that lives only to eat and to be eaten, but this is not the case. it is in fact, a rather smart fellow in its way and can be taught to do many tricks. if you have ever seen what are called "learned pigs" you will agree with this. the pig can do tricks without being taught. we have told how cats and some other animals can open latches and gate pegs. this the pig can do as well as any of them. we are told of one pig that was taught to point game like a pointer dog, and did this so well that she was more useful than a dog. [illustration: animals of the farm and poultry yard] here is a good pig story. a gentleman named stephen harding says:--"i saw an intelligent sow-pig about twelve months old running in an orchard, going to a young apple tree and shaking it, pricking up her ears at the same time as if to listen to hear the apples fall. she then picked the apples up and ate them. after they were all down she shook the tree again and listened, but as there were no more to fall she went away." that might not be very smart in a boy, but it is smart in a pig. [illustration] v the birds of the poultry yard we have had a long talk about the four-legged home-folks, those animals, big and little, that aid man in hunting, amuse him as house pets, carry him on his journeys, pull his carts and wagons, supply him with milk, butter and cheese, and yield him food for the table, wool for clothing, skins for leather, and other things for other uses. this is a long list of the good that man gets from the animals he tames and feeds. but it is not the whole. there is another class of animals, two-legged ones this time, with claws instead of hoofs, horny beaks instead of mouths, feathers instead of hair, and wings in place of fore-legs. these are the birds of the poultry yard and the lawn, some of them kept for their eggs, some for their flesh, some for the splendor of their plumage; some of them very useful, others very beautiful. i am sure that you will enjoy a talk about these winged and feathered creatures. they belong more closely to the home-life of all people than some of our four-legged friends and helpers, as they are kept close to the house and fed by its people, not left to feed themselves in the fields. best known and most useful among these is the hen or chicken, our clucking friend of the poultry-yard, who fills our pantries with eggs and is served on our tables as one of the best liked foods. the hen and its brood the city, we know, is a hotbed of noises, sounds of all sorts troubling our ears by day and night. we try at times to get rid of them, but find that not easy to do. the best thing for us is to get used to them and learn to sleep in spite of them. we need to become like jock the miller, who got so used to the roar and clang of his mill that he could not sleep when it was still. some city people find it so hard to get used to the noises of the night that they go to the country for a quiet sleep. do they find it? they may in still winter nights, but in the summer season the country has noises of its own. as soon as night falls a host of wood insects begin their endless drone. then there is the locust and the katydid, with their shrill calls, and perhaps the whip-poor-will, with its mournful cry. falling to sleep at last, after these sounds have lost their force, no sooner are the first faint rays of light sent from the east, at three or four o'clock in the morning, than a new sound invades the ear and wakens the sleeper with a sudden start. this is the early waking cock, with his loud "cock-a-doodle-doo." standing on his own fortress he sounds his shrill alarm. a dozen more, near and far, from all points of the compass, take up the tune. the air is soon full of this strident cock-crow, the signal of the coming of the sun, until all hope of sleep is at an end, and the pilgrim wishes himself well back in his city bed. he finds the country not such a sweet sleep-producer as he hoped. [illustration: feeding the chickens in the farm-yard] in old times people held the cock to be a sacred animal, the herald of the dawn, the symbol of light and the sun. in later times it was held to be the wide-awake sentry of the coming day. there are places where its image is mounted on church steeples on guard over the winds. everywhere it is the emblem of vigilance, and this is what the city sleeper in country beds finds it. with its stately attitude, its erect head crowned with feathers like an indian chief, its showy spread of tail, and its air of pride and dignity, our cock strides about as the lord of the farm-yard and peals out his loud "cock-a-doodle-doo" like a challenge to battle. and he is usually quite ready for battle if any rival cock takes up his challenge. while the cock thus blows his trumpet blast, the hen finds other work to do. her business is to lay eggs, hatch out her brood of funny little chicks, lead them about the poultry yard in search of worms and other food, and gather them fussily under her wings when a hawk is seen in the sky or any danger appears. mrs. hen does not have the ear-splitting voice of mr. cock, but she has a language of her own. there are only a few words in it but each of them has a meaning. there is the proud cackle with which she tells the world that she has laid an egg, the lively chuckle with which she brings her brood to a feast of worms, and the quick cry of danger which sets them running to the fortress of her wings. her brood know what all these chickenwords mean, and it is for their ears they are spoken. the hen is not as handsome a bird as some other inmates of the poultry yard, but if we look over all our stock of these birds we will find some very good-looking ones, these for their showy colors, those for their fine shape. among those that are kept more for ornament than use are the great cochin china fowls, stately birds, giants of their kind, of lordly bearing and fine coloring. they do not lay many eggs and those they do lay are small. also they are not very good to eat. but they win respect through their size and beauty and thus are kept by many as birds of show. another family of giant fowls are the brahmas. they are smaller than the cochin chinas, but are as handsome, and along with this they lay many and large eggs and their flesh is very good. so these are kept not only as birds of show but birds of use. when we come down to hens of smaller size we find a number of breeds, not less than forty in all, dwelling in various parts of the world and many of than good in various ways. like nearly all our home animals, america is not the native place of the hen. neither is europe, for it came from asia, that great continent in which so many animals were first born. but the hen tribe has spread all over the earth, the chicken is a household treasure almost from the north pole to the south, and we can hardly find a country home in any land without its crowing cock and its clucking hen. while not native to america, it makes itself very much at home there and the united states has some excellent breeds of its own, of which we may be proud. these are the plymouth rocks and the wyandottes, which have been called the national fowls of america and which can hold their own with the best breeds of europe. while we have brought a number of fine breeds from foreign lands, we have sent these two abroad, and they have won high praise both for beauty and usefulness. the wyandottes are of various colors, the white being best liked; others are of silver, golden, speckled, black, and partridge-color. they are splendid egg layers, filling the yearly basket with from a hundred and fifty to two hundred eggs. the plymouth rock may be speckled, light yellow, or white, and it bears a strong resemblance to the wyandotte, except that the latter has a double comb on its head while the former has a single one. as the cow is kept for its meat and its milk, and the sheep for its meat and its wool, so is the hen kept for two purposes, its flesh and its eggs. some kinds are bred for the table and they are of great value in our food-supply. everybody likes a dish of chicken meat, which is fine in flavor, easy of digestion, and very good for the weak or sick. other kinds are kept for egg-laying and the egg-harvest of the world is vast in size. it is the nature of the hen to lay eggs enough for a brood of chicks, sit on them to keep them warm, and take care of the brood when it appears until the chicks are old enough to scratch for their own living. [illustration: english dorking cock and hen] but these duties take up much time in which no eggs are laid, and the farmers who deal in eggs try to prevent the hens from nest-making and egg-hatching. in this way many hens have been forced to forget what they were made for and have gone out of the hatching business. these give all their spare time to egg-laying. some of them lay more than two hundred eggs a year. breeds of this kind are found mostly in the countries along the mediterranean. the number of chickens kept and of eggs laid in the world is far out of sight. in the united states alone in there were nearly , , chickens, and nearly , , , dozen of eggs were laid. this made three chickens for each man, woman and child in the country and seventeen dozen of eggs for each. since then the number has grown much larger and the annual egg crop of the world, if it could be heaped up together, would make a pyramid far larger than the largest in egypt. the game cock and its battles i do not want to say much about cock-fighting, for it is a cruel sport and leads to the vice of gambling, through which many lose large sums of money. but the fighting of game-cocks has a history of its own, and cannot be quite passed over in our story of the hen and its brood. the males of all the higher animals are fond of fighting. it is one of their duties to act as guardians of the family against danger from outside, while the females look after home affairs. this fighting temper is very common among animals and men have often made use of it in getting up battles between animals. we find it in the chicken family, and cock-fighting has long been enjoyed by sport-loving people. while all cocks are ready to fight at times, and the winning cock struts about the poultry yard like a conqueror, there are special breeds known as game-cocks which are always ready for a battle and will fight till victory or death ends the fray. game-cocks are classed among the ornamental poultry, for they are of little use as food and their hens lay few eggs. yet they are highly thought of in some countries, a good fighter is treated as a member of the family, and one that has won several victories is worth much money to his owner. there are two kinds of fighting cocks, large ones and small ones. some of the little kind are not larger than pigeons. they are usually known as bantams, from the town of bantam, in java, though it is more likely they came from japan. these little birds, many of them of only a pound in weight, are heroes of the poultry yard, for a fighting bantam is more than a match for a common cock five times its size. the bantam has been spoken of as "a fine example of a great soul in a little body." the large game-cocks of europe come chiefly from france and belgium, but good ones may be found in other countries. in fighting, the chief weapon is the sharp spur on the back of the leg, which they use as a sort of dagger. it is common to fasten steel spurs, and sometimes even silver ones, on the leg, and the first blow from one of these may bring death to an opponent. cock-fighting is a very old form of amusement. it was common among the greeks and romans, and was kept up in england for six centuries. it was even an annual sport at public schools. laws have been passed against it at various times, the last in , but it is still practiced now and then out of sight of the law officers. the same may be said of the united states. in these times this sport is most common in india, the malay islands, and the spanish countries of america, where the people are very fond of it. the training of cocks to fight and getting the bird ready for the cock-pit is an art in itself. it needs skill to fasten on the spurs. two years old is the best fighting age. when a match is made it is settled how many birds there shall be on each side and they are carefully weighed, those within an ounce of each other being matched. these are said to "fall in." those that do not fall in are set to fight what are called "byes." in a welsh main the cocks fight until only one is left alive. they are like the famous "kilkenny cats." if we should seek a country where cock-fighting may take place under the laws, the nearest to us is in the isle of cuba. in the cities of that island the cock-pit is as popular as the circus is with us. it is a circular space, with seats around filled with lookers-on and bettors, for much money is lost and won in one of these fights. the birds are of a native breed, and are said to be very brave and bold. in a country under our own rule, the philippine islands, cock-fighting is one of the best liked forms of sport. to take this from the filipino would be worse than robbing him of his freedom. sundays and feast-days are the times for cock-fighting, and on these dates the cock-pit is sure to be crowded. when a feast-day arrives, after the siesta, which comes in the hot hours of the afternoon, crowds of natives may be seen going to the large bamboo building where the fight is to take place, many of them with fighting cocks under their arms. a sharp steel spur, two inches or more in length, is tied to the left leg of each, as an aid to the spurs given the cock by nature. these cocks are the great treasures of the natives. the bird is often more to its owner than his children. he fondly caresses it, and it eats, crows, and sleeps in his arms. but it is apt to become a nuisance to the traveller, for he often has to spend the night in the same room with the family cock, and as it begins to crow about three o'clock in the morning all sleep after that hour is at an end. inside the pit two cocks at a time are matched, and when the hour for the fight is reached dollars begin to rain into the ring, each bettor laying a stake on his favorite and throwing his money into the ring. then come the words _usada_ ("matched,") and _largo_ ("let go"), and in an instant the two birds are in and at each other, fighting as fiercely as two bull-pups. the battle is usually short, a well-directed blow from the steel spur stretching one of them dead on the ground. the name of the winner is now called out and those who have won bets hurry down into the ring and pick up their own stakes as well as the sums they have won. this seems a queer method, but the bettors act honestly. it is safest to do so, for to take more than their due would likely lead to a knife thrust from these hot-tempered people. under the spanish law fifty dollars was the limit of a bet; but little heed was paid to this and larger bets were often made. the web-footed duck and goose while the hen is not fond of water, the duck and goose could not well live without it. they are born for swimming, with webs between their toes that serve as oars. on the land they walk with an ugly waddling gait, but in the water they are very graceful, and a flock of swimming ducks or geese is a pretty sight. in raising ducks the nature of the bird needs to be kept in mind. water is its native element and it will not do well on the land. it cannot be kept in a coop or an inclosed place like fowls, but give it an open field, with a running stream, and it will ask nothing more. you will hardly need to feed it, for it knows well how to feed itself. the duck is not a lazy bird. it will eat almost anything, and is always waddling about picking up snails, grubs, and insects, or sailing on the water and thrusting its beak into the soft mud for worms. [illustration: willie and his pet ducks] if the duck farm is large enough and has a pond or stream, the keeping of ducks is very easy. they are nearly free from disease and need little looking after. some kinds of ducks are very handsome, their colors being bright and varied. the male of the common duck (known as a drake) has a splendid plumage in its wild state. the head and upper neck are of deep emerald green. lower down is a collar of white, and the lower neck is of dark chestnut. the wings are of a beautiful deep blue. the tame bird is not nearly so beautiful. it uses its legs instead of its wings to get about, so that it almost forgets how to fly. this easy life and plenty of food helps it to grow and fatten, a fact that makes it better suited to man's use. it has long forgotten how to build a nest and almost how to sit on its eggs, so that in some places the hen is used to hatch out the young ducks. to see a hen going about with a flock of young ducklings looks odd to us, and when the little waddlers jump into the water and swim away the hen mother seems sadly scared. she fears that all her pretty ducklings will be drowned. when the baby duck gets out of the egg and is ready to begin life it is shut up for a few days and fed on soft food, such as ground wheat and barley mixed with hard-boiled egg. after this it is let out into the field and set free to search for the animal food it needs. in belgium, where many ducklings are raised, it is comical to see the breeder hopping about the field on big wooden shoes, kicking up the earth as he goes so as to force out the worms for the little strangers to feed on. it does not take them long to learn how to find food for themselves. of the different kinds of ducks we may name the rouen of france as a fine and beautiful bird and a good layer. in england the aylesbury is the best, as it grows fast, is very hardy and lays many eggs. the pekin duck is much like it and is highly thought of in this country, where large numbers of white pekins are raised for market. the duck of india is new to us but has won its way among duck raisers. it is the best of its kind as an egg layer, its harvest being over one hundred and fifty eggs a year. its flesh is very delicate so that it is much liked for the table. while the duck is not so widely kept as the hen, there are places where it is raised in large numbers. in the united states there are duck farms in which as many as twenty thousand birds a year are grown. there are no farms like this in europe, though in some countries ducks are raised in great multitudes. these are not allowed to grow old, being sent to market when eight to twelve months of age. they pay better when sold at this age, for after that new feathers begin to grow and buyers do not want them. if we turn now to the goose, we find it a swimmer like the duck, but larger in size and with a much longer neck. it belongs to the duck family, but does not eat animal food like the duck. it gets a good living off of grass and this makes it cheap and easy to raise. in russia, where geese are kept in large numbers, the goose girl leads her flock every morning to the fields, lets them feed during the day, and brings them home at night to the village. the goslings are given some ground grain for a few weeks, and then are left to feed themselves. [illustration: an assault by hungry geese] the goose, like the duck, has largely gone out of the business of egg hatching, turkeys or large fowls being used to sit on the eggs. they are neither good hatchers nor good layers, the best breeds rarely giving more than thirty eggs a year. but they are hardy and healthy and do not die off like young chickens. they can bear cold easily, and though a shelter is made for them in winter, they always sleep in the open air in the summer. the goose is a strong bird and can strike a hard blow with its wing. in trying to catch them the keeper must be careful, for they are able to break his arm with a blow and have done so more than once. but they are good watchers for the farm. they wake very easily, and if a stranger comes upon the farm in the night they make noise enough to arouse the whole household. this habit has given the goose a place in history. the romans of old kept a number of geese in the temple of juno on the hill where stood the capitol. the goose was sacred to that goddess and it was the custom to keep a flock in her temples. one night a party of gauls, who had laid siege to the city of rome, found a narrow path up the steep hill and were almost at the top when the sacred geese heard them and made so loud a cackling that the garrison woke up and rushed out. here the gauls who had reached the top were flung down the steep hill, stones were thrown down on those that followed, and the capitol was saved. one of the best known breeds of geese is that of the giant goose of toulouse, usually about sixteen pounds but sometimes twenty-four pounds in weight. the embden goose is still larger. the giant goose of italy is the only good layer, and yields about sixty eggs a year. in germany and some other countries geese are driven for days along the roads, in flocks of several hundred. they are not easily tired and are good travellers, so that this is the cheapest way to get them to market. as for the uses to which the goose is put, these are simply for food and for their feathers and quills, which are plucked several times a year. the fine, soft feathers are of much value for pillows and beds, and before the steel pen was invented goose quills were used all over europe and america to make into pens. [illustration: gander hissing at an enemy] in england the goose is often roasted for the christmas dinner, as the turkey is with us, and the gizzards, heads and legs are sold in sets, under the name of "giblets," to be used for pies. goose liver has long been a dainty dish. it is made in strasburg to grow very large by keeping the geese in a room at high temperature. in this state it is sold as a great delicacy under the french name of _pâté de foie gras_ ("pasty of fat liver"). the turkey and the guinea fowl so far we have had to do with birds and beasts of foreign birth. as men from abroad have peopled our cities, so animals from abroad have peopled our fields, and we have not as yet met with one true american in the list. it is lucky that i have a native american to offer you, and one that is in some ways the finest of all our birds of the farm. this is the turkey, the largest of them all and the choicest when roasted and served upon the table. we may well ask, what would a christmas dinner be like without this noble bird to fill the place of honor? there are wild turkeys still in our woods, though the bullets of the hunter have left few of those once found there. these wild birds have certain odd habits well worth speaking of. thus the male birds keep away from the females during a great part of the year, going about in flocks of from ten to a hundred, and feeding on grain, seeds, fruits, insects, tadpoles, lizards and such small game. the females go about singly or in flocks with their young. they take care to keep away from the old males, which have a bad habit of killing and eating the young. turkeys roost in trees but make their nests on the ground, laying from ten to twenty eggs before setting. these are much larger than the egg of the hen. the wild turkeys have small wings and are poor flyers, so that when they try to cross a river a mile wide many give out and fall into the water. but they usually manage to swim ashore. there are two species of wild turkey in america, one native to the united states and mexico and one found in central america. the latter is somewhat smaller than our home bird but is finer in color, its feathers being of a beautiful metallic-green or bronze color, with hues of black, gold and sky color. the male turkey has a habit much like that of the peacock. he spreads his large tail upward like a fan, while his wings are made to trail on the ground. in this way he struts round and round with great dignity, giving vent at times to a loud "gobble, gobble," an odd sound of his own. the tame animal has the same habits, gobbling and strutting in the same way. cared for and fed for the market, it grows to be a large and fat bird, with plenty of rich, juicy meat upon its bones. it is its size and the sweetness and delicacy of its flesh which make it a feast-day favorite. the turkey is fond of roaming about and does not like to be confined to the poultry yard. on a large farm, where there is plenty of room to wander, the bird will do well and find most of its own food. but the young birds are delicate and hard to raise and it takes great care to bring them alive through babyhood. the hot sun hurts them and so do rain-storms and it is bad for them to get wet by running through long grass. if they are carefully attended to for their first few weeks of life and fed on food fitted to their young tastes they can be trusted afterwards to take good care of themselves. while this bird has long been one of the prized tenants of our home poultry yards, the same is the case in europe. there is a mexican variety, with a whitish tail, which was taken to europe by the early spaniards and has spread widely in that continent, where it is raised with great care. there are few large farms in america and europe on which these birds are not kept--not in large numbers like the hen, for they do not take kindly to home life and need much room to wander, but enough for the demand. they are first-class hatchers, and will sit on from twenty to twenty-four eggs. they also take very good care of their flocks and guard them from harm. the turkey, as we all know, is a large bird. it may be had of many sizes for the christmas table, from ten or twelve pounds up to twenty-five or thirty. while much attention is paid to it in this country, it perhaps gets still more in europe. in our cities it is a sad case when a family cannot have a roast turkey for its christmas dinner, and in england it is taking the place of the roast goose, once the favorite. but the goose still holds a pleasant corner in the british mind. any of you who have read dickens's story of tiny tim and bob cratchit's christmas dinner will be sure of this. it is a queer fact that, while the turkey is the only american bird on our farms, it is at the same time the only one that has been given an old world name. it was early named after the turks, under a wrong impression as to its origin, and the name has clung to it. it is quite as strange that the same must be said of the natives of america, who were given the name of indians from the idea of columbus that it was the land of india he had found. this name has also clung. france is a country well suited to the raising of turkeys, and for hundreds of years the turkey has been a favorite bird in that land. splendid birds are grown there, chief among them being the solonge turkey. this is a bird of a brilliant black color, though now and then it is of white or steel-blue. they grow to be very large, one having been sent to the poultry shows of of the great weight of forty-five pounds. this was sent to spain to be seen and was visited in madrid by the king and queen. on its return it took cold and when it got well of this it was killed by a fellow who did not believe in fat turkeys. the turkey was revenged, for the murderer spent five months in prison for his crime. in some of the villages of france a woman is paid at the public cost as a care-keeper of the turkeys. every morning she gathers her flock in the village and leads them to the open fields like the goose girl of russia. when she comes home at night with her flock she does not need to pick out those of the different owners. every bird knows its home and goes there, never making a mistake. [illustration: driving turkeys to market] that is all we need now say about the turkey. the rest may be left unsaid till the christmas dinner, when the noble bird lies brown and steaming on his back in the great platter. then the carver stands over him knife in hand and we hear from him the customary question, "which will you have, white meat or dark?" to most of us it does not matter which so that we get a bounteous share. the guinea-fowl, of which we shall speak in passing, must be dealt with briefly, for it is not largely kept in our home poultry yards, though much attention is paid to it in some parts of the world. it is one of the few gifts which africa has made to our home-life family. this bird belongs in the pheasant tribe and is found in guinea and south africa. it also occurs in the north and was much liked by the ancient romans. but it is better fitted to warm than to cold climates, and as the young are apt to die of infant troubles it is not kept in large numbers in our poultry yards. yet the bird and its eggs bring good prices in the market. the climate of jamaica is just right for the guinea-fowl and in that island it has made itself at home, taking to the woods and to a wild life. there it has become fond of feeding on the growing crops and is hunted and shot like a game bird. the special fact about this bird rests in its color, it being prettily speckled with round white spots on a dark gray color of plumage. there are several species, the best known being the common guinea, which is often called "come-back" from its call. in its wild state it gathers in large flocks and is very shy and hard to get near, while it keeps up most of the time a harsh cry which latham compares to a door turning on rusty hinges or a wheel on an ungreased axle. in the farm-yard it perches at night in high places and if disturbed rouses up the whole neighborhood by its ceaseless cry. the eggs of the guinea-fowl are smaller than those of the hen and rounder in shape. they are of a reddish-white color, and are delicious eating. many are laid and the female has the habit of hiding her nest until the young are hatched out. the flesh tastes like that of the pheasant, but is rather dry. it was served up at the roman feasts, and is much liked now by many persons. it may be further said about this bird that it is at times a nuisance in the poultry yard, for the male guinea has the tendency to attack the other poultry and act the tyrant over them. another habit is to scrape in the ground like a hen. it also loves to roll in the dust and thus free itself from insects. the swan, an image of grace next on our list of home birds is the swan, one of the most beautiful and graceful of the whole bird race. when afloat, like a winged boat, on the still surface of lake or pond, with its snow-white body and wings and its long, curving neck, it is a thing of beauty which we are all glad to see and enjoy. the swan may still be found wild, but it has long been tamed and kept as an ornament of lakes and rivers and the broad ponds of country homes. here it may be seen gliding softly along, with its white wings partly lifted, as if to catch the wind, and its neck gracefully bending as it moves. in ancient times the swan was called the bird of apollo or of orpheus, and was held to have splendid musical powers, singing most sweetly when it was dying. but this is a fancy of the poets, for the voice of the tame swan has no music in it, being only a sort of hiss, like that of the goose. there is a variety of the bird called the trumpet swan, but it is so noisy that few care to keep it. also in australia there is a bird called the singing swan, with a voice that might be spoken of as a kind of song. some of these have been brought to europe, but the common swan has no sort of song, living or dying. there is an american species of the swan, which in winter may be seen flying in flocks as far south as texas, but this has not been tamed. there is also a black swan found in australia, and now to be seen in a tame state. it is deep black in color, except the main feathers of the wings, which are white. it is not nearly so pretty as the white swan, but when black and white are kept in the same pond the contrast is very fine. the black-necked swan of south america is thought by many to be the most handsome of them all. its bright white body and black neck make a pleasing contrast. when tamed this bird keeps to its own part of the pond, as if too proud to mix with common folks, and will fight them off if they come too near. [illustration: the black swan of australia] in fact, the swan is always ready to fight if it is meddled with. quiet and docile with its friends, it does not like strangers and will make furious attacks on its enemies. when the mother bird is going about with her flock it is best to keep out of her way, for she is jealous of her brood, and if the male bird is near he will not bear meddling with his family party. he will attack men and dogs alike if they come too close and drives away the other birds of the pond. his weapons are his strong wings, with which he can deal powerful blows. under the law of england the swan is a bird royal. all swans found on sea or river in a partly wild state are claimed as birds of the crown. these royal birds are marked in a special way and whoever steals one of the king's marked birds may be punished as a thief. the same is the case with tame swans and with swan's eggs. he who steals or destroys the latter is liable to a fine of five shillings for each egg. the mother swan lays from six to twelve eggs, on which she broods for thirty-six days, while the father bird keeps at hand with a sharp lookout for meddlers. they make their own nests and take care of themselves, though a little island is often built up in the middle of the pond with a straw-lined shelter in which the nest may be made. after they are hatched, the little swans take boldly to the water and swim about in search of food. they are gray when born and do not gain their dazzling white color until they are two years old. swans live chiefly on plant food, but they are also fond of fish spawn and will destroy this in great quantities, thus helping to keep down the crop of fish. in the tame state they are fed by throwing food upon the water, though they may be taught to come ashore and seek their food in a fixed place. in belgium there is a flock which has been taught to come to the casino of the military officers for its meals. the casino stands close to the canal and steps go down to the water. every afternoon at feeding time the swans may be seen coming up the steps from the canal and crossing the street to the kitchen of the casino, where they make a signal by knocking on the floor with their beaks. the cooks then throw them food. after this is eaten they make their way, at the command of the head-cook, in a straight line back to the canal, heedless of men, dogs, or wagons which may be in their way. [illustration: the graceful white swan swimming] in former times swans were used for food, and it was common at every great feast in england to serve up roast swan, there being special rules how it was to be cooked and the proper gravy made. swan's quills were also used for pens. in our days it is seldom eaten and quill pens rarely used, and the only value to be had from the swan comes from its downy feathers and its large and beautiful wings, which often bring good prices. the proud and gaudy peacock among all the birds of the poultry yard first in display stands the peacock, one of the most splendid in show of all birds. this fine fellow, with his glowing colors and royal tail, has some claim to be proud of his looks. any of you who have seen him will agree with me in this. for those who have not seen him i must try and tell what he is like. rising from the head of the peacock is a crest of feathers of the most brilliant green and gold, while all its plumage is richly colored. but its finest feature is its splendid train, a great circle of feathers which rise above the tail and which it can lift into a glowing circle of wonderful beauty. of these feathers the middle ones are sometimes more than four feet long. they grow shorter on each side till they form a complete fan. all of these are spangled with eye-like richly-colored spots, so that a peacock with its tail spread is one of the most brilliant objects in nature. well he knows how royal is his dress, and dearly he loves to show himself to the plainly-dressed ladies of his flock, strutting about with full spread train and turning slowly round that they all may see how lovely an object he is. once each year this proud fellow loses his fine feathers, and at this time he tries to keep out of sight, as if ashamed of his plain attire. but they soon grow again and once more he comes forward to show himself to the world. [illustration: lippincott's primer the peacock, the most gorgeous of home birds] this bird comes from india and ceylon. there is another species in java which is said to be still finer in its display. we are told that "its crest, head and neck are rich green, the breast bluish-green margined with gold, the back bright copper-color barred with green and light brown, and the upper tail coverts rich green with gold and copper-color reflections." nature seems to have done her best to lay splendor on this royal son of the tropics. what else shall be said about this bird, aside from the beauty of its colors? in its younger days this does not appear, the sexes being alike in plumage when they are young. the male is three years old before its days of show begin. the cry of the bird is a shrill sound like _pao_, and it also makes an odd noise by rattling its quills. it is given to quarrels and keeps to itself at night, roosting high in the trees. its chief food is grain, though it also eats insects and worms, and if it can get into a garden it is sure to make mischief before it is found out. in the woods of india the peacock is said to be often seen in company with the tiger, though why no one knows. it is not easy to learn in what way these two can help each other or what tastes they have in common. if the taste of the tiger is for the meat of the peacock, the bird would be likely to keep out of its way. how long it has been since the peafowl was first tamed we cannot tell, but the bible speaks of it as being known in palestine in king solomon's time. alexander the great seems to have brought it from india to greece and after that time it was well known in the west. the greeks and romans called it the bird of juno, and the rich romans, who would go to any expense to make a new dish for their tables, are said to have eaten the tongues and brains of the peafowl. how many of the birds must have been killed to serve for one foolish dinner! in our days the eggs and young are said to make good eating, but the birds are kept usually for their beauty alone, though their splendid tails are used at times as an ornament. the dove-like pigeon is there not something very soft and tender in the word dove and in the loving ways of this fine bird? when we speak of the turtle-dove there rises in our mind an image of tenderness and love which never comes to us when the pigeon is named. yet these two are the same. pigeon and dove are two names for one family of birds. long ago the species known as the rock-pigeon was tamed, and this is the one that lives with us in such numbers as one of our chief home birds. the place we keep him in is often called the dove-cot, and in this way the two names are still kept together. the wild rock-pigeon, the ancestor of our tame pigeon, is also known as the ring-dove, so that the term dove-cot fits very well. the pigeon is our one bird of the air. the other tenants of the poultry yard have long given up the art of flying, except for a very short distance, but the pigeon is a great flyer still and spends much of its time on the wing. it is indeed one of the fastest of flyers and thinks little of a journey of a hundred miles through the air. but it never forgets its home and if taken away will wing its way straight back again. the pigeon has been a companion of man for ages past. it is spoken of in the annals of egypt at a date five thousand years ago and has been at home in city and village ever since. with its wonderful power of flight it seems strange that it does not leave us never to return, but as it has nothing to escape from and much to come back to, the pigeon can be trusted with the fullest liberty. it is, in truth, a trusty bird, gentle and lively in nature, fond of society and faithful to its own. it loves its home, and tenderly caresses its mate, with a graceful show of affection. under its name of the dove it has long been held as the emblem of peace and innocence, and the phrase "billing and cooing," so often applied to lovers, is taken from its love-making methods. in the old countries of asia the pigeon was held to be a sacred bird. in greece it was the bird of venus and was kept in great flocks around the temples of this goddess. from greece it spread to rome and thence to all europe, and in time became the christian symbol of immortal life, the white dove being looked upon as the bearer of souls to heaven. this idea still survives and less than two weeks ago i saw a beautiful white pigeon set free over a grave and fly upward as one on a heavenly errand. in the city of venice the pigeon is a favorite bird that has won the affection of the people. clouds of them circle around the cupola of st. mark's church and the roof of the doge's palace, and the man who sought to catch or harm them would do so at peril of death from the people. birds build all sorts of nests, some good, some bad, some very bad. those of the wild pigeon belong among the very bad, and there is a reason for this, if we can believe a story that is told about our feathered friend. this story says that the father of all the pigeons tried his best to make a good nest but kept making bad ones. in the end he asked the magpie, who made fine nests, to show him how it was done. he agreed to give the magpie a cow in return for a lesson. after watching the magpie for a few minutes he said that he knew all he wanted to and would not give the cow. a judge was called to settle this case, the verdict being that the pigeon had broken his contract and could not claim any further lessons. so ever since that time the pigeon has built the worst kind of nests. the pigeon nest-builder is here spoken of as "he," for it is the male bird that builds the nest, the duty of the female being to supply the eggs. and he also takes part in sitting on the two eggs with which the female begins her brood. the young pigeon is a blind and helpless bird when it comes from the egg. it is at first fed with a sort of broth made in the crop of its parents, and all through its bird babyhood it needs close care, both from its father and mother and from its owners. a dainty and pretty bird it grows to be, one that charms us by its fine shape and its rich colors,--blue, gray, red, yellow, white or brown,--also by its swift and graceful flight. it needs to trust to its wings to escape its enemies, for neither its claws nor its beak are made for fighting. but its eyes are sharp and its great swiftness saves it from harm. so keen is its sight that it can see a morsel of food, such as a pea or seed, at a long distance. a quick swoop, and it has the food in its beak. much might be said about the care of the dove-cot or pigeon-house, but it is too long a story to be given here. we can only say that much needs to be done in keeping the house clean and fit for its purpose and in caring for the birds. its diet is made up of peas, beans, corn, oats, barley and potato, with hemp seed for a special delicacy, while it picks up many other bits of food in its daily flights. it is wonderful how many kinds of tame pigeons have come from their wild ancestor, the rock-pigeon. of no other animal except the dog are there so many and it is hard to believe that they all came from one source. a few of them may be named, for the whole list is far too large for our space. among the various kinds may first be named the tumbler pigeon. this bird flies to a great height, then sinks and soars in circles and curves, turning somersaults in the air. all at once it drops down in nearly a straight line; then stops short, hovers on its spread wings, and flies upward to begin the play again. a flock of these tumblers will keep in the air for hours at a time, enjoying themselves and pleasing their friends below. of these tumblers there are many varieties, different in color, shape and size. a very odd kind of pigeon is the pouter, in which the breast stands out until it is like a great food chest, for the swelling is due to the great size of the upper stomach. as a result the head is thrown back almost out of sight behind this swollen chest. this gives the bird a sulky, pouting air, from which comes its name of pouter. of the other kinds we may speak of the frilled pigeons, with the breast feathers frizzed like a shirt frill; the fan-tails, the tails of which spread out in the fashion of those of the peacock; the russian drum-pigeons, which do not coo, but make a sound like the roll of a drum; the capuchin, with a white hood and tail and a dark tuft on its forehead; and the lark, magpie, swallow, and starling-necked pigeons, all with something to suggest these titles. so far we have said nothing of the carrier pigeon, for that claims a place for itself. it is a bird of noble bearing, with no show of fine feathers, since it looks more like a wild than a tame bird, but with a splendid power of flight, one which no other pigeon can match. its great value is that when taken to a long distance it has a wonderful power of finding its way home. this makes it of much use as a messenger bird, a kind of natural telegraph which was used centuries before any other telegraph was thought of. [illustration: pigeon types. carrier and short faced tumbler] no one knows how the carrier pigeon finds its way home. most likely its keen power of sight has much to do with this. when set free, it flies upward into the air in widening circles to a great height, as if trying to see something known to it in the far distance. in the end it darts off in a straight line, which ends only when it has reached its mate in the home dove-cot. of course it needs to be trained to this by shorter flights, but a well-trained pigeon will find its home when a hundred miles or more away. the message is written on a piece of very thin, light paper, tied under the bird's wing or to its leg. the history of the carrier pigeon goes far back in time. in the days of ancient greece winners in the public games sent word of their victory to their friends by pigeon post. a real pigeon postal-system was founded in the arabian empire by the sultan noureddin, who died in , and this was kept up until , when bagdad, the capital, was taken and destroyed by the mongols. in later years, during the wars of napoleon, large gains are said to have been made by the rothschilds, the famous bankers, who received news of great events by pigeon post and used those news for stock buying and selling. the newspaper press has also made much use of messenger pigeons. the greatest case of this was in , when the city of paris was besieged by the german army and all the telegraph wires were down. news was sent out from paris, in microscopical writing so fine that a single bird could carry thousands of messages at once. military pigeons are still trained for use in case any war should arise. in the german city of cologne there is a station with five or six hundred pigeons, trained to fly to the fortified places of the empire. the ostrich and its splendid plumes after our talk about the pigeon, with its swift powers of flight, we now come to a bird which has no power of flight at all, yet which is of much value to us from the splendid feathers of its wings. it would take strong wings indeed to lift from the ground the ostrich, the largest of all birds, standing six to eight feet high. but what it lacks in wings it makes up in legs, for it is a wonderful runner, being able to outrun the fastest horse. as it runs it spreads its wings, which seem to act as sails. the ostrich has often been tamed and thus it may be classed with birds of the home, though much too large for the poultry yard. it grows quite friendly to those who have it in charge, but does not like strangers and is apt to attack them in a violent manner. as these birds are plentiful in the great sahara desert, they were often kept by the romans and used in their public shows. they were also used as food, and a glutton among the roman emperors is said to have had the brains of a large number of ostriches served up to him in a single dish. the people of africa are very fond of ostrich eggs and travellers in that land also speak well of them. each egg weighs about three pounds, so that one of them is equal to about two dozen hen's eggs. the egg is cooked by being set on end in a fire and its contents stirred about with a stick thrust into a hole in the upper end. the shell is so thick and strong that it is used in africa as a water vessel. it is not for its brain or its eggs that the ostrich is kept in our days, but for its fine plumes. these bring such high prices that the birds are tamed and kept on what are called ostrich farms in order to get a good supply of those rare feathers. the first farms were started in south africa in , and they have since spread to other countries. the birds need warm regions, the only states fitted for them in this country being california and florida. [illustration: on a california ostrich farm] the long, white, beautiful ostrich plumes so highly prized by ladies all over the world grow in the ends of the wings of the male birds. a good bird, in the prime of its life, will yield from twenty to forty of these, and also a few black feathers from the wings. the tail feathers are of much less beauty and value. in the early days of the industry the feathers were worth $ a pound and the plumes of one bird would sometimes bring $ . but they have now become so plentiful that the price has gone down to less than one-tenth of these figures. to pluck the feathers, the bird is put in a box of such small size that it cannot kick. it does not enjoy the plucking, and a kick from its great leg is enough to break a man's bones. we can understand its feelings, for the feathers used to be cruelly pulled out by the roots. now they are cut, leaving the roots of the quills, which can be pulled out easily in a month or two. as for the use and beauty of these superb plumes we need only to view the hat of a lady which is adorned by one or more of them. the whole bird kingdom yields nothing more beautiful. [illustration] vi winged and tuneful home pets if you look back over the earlier pages of this book, you will find that it deals with animals in some way of use to man, creatures that guard his houses, help him in his sports, serve him as food, carry him on their backs, haul his carts and wagons, and in other ways help him to live and thrive. but our home friends are not all of this useful kind. there are some that we keep just because we like to have them with us, and make friends of for their sweet songs, their beauty of form or color, and the love they give us for the love we give them. these are the song birds of the home, the pretty little winged warblers which we keep in cages to save them from the prowling cat and to hinder them from flying away, but which we do all we can to make happy and joyous, and which pay us back in their own charming way. there are many of these cage-pets. the one that we see most of is the canary, but there are many others for which we find room in our homes and are as glad to keep as they seem glad to be kept. among these birds of the cage and the aviary are the linnet and the bullfinch, admired for their beauty of color; the mocking bird, with its wonderful power of imitating the songs of all the feathered brood; the thrush, a singer of fine powers; the finch, with its cheerful whistle, especially the bullfinch, splendid in color and varied in song; the bunting, the lark, the wagtail, and various others admired for beauty or sweetness of song; and to these we must add the strange and amusing bird talkers, such as the parrot, which has wonderful powers of learning words and fitting them into the right place, a bird that fairly makes us jump at times by the neat way in which it says the right thing at the right time. then there are the magpie, the jackdaw, and the starling, ready talkers and good company for the lonely. the canary and its song of the home birds the gold-hued canary comes first, as the chief favorite among them all. from its native home on the canary islands it has been taken to europe and america and kept so long in cages that it has quite forgotten its old-time liberty, so that a canary-bird escaped from its cage is the most helpless creature in the feathered flock, and is likely to become the prey of the cat if not captured and brought back to its cage-home. the wild canary is not noted for its beauty and not greatly for its song. it is found in large numbers in the canary, madeira, and cape verde islands, and is of a greenish-yellow color, with gray tail and wings. it is the art of man which has made the home bird what it is and has given it its color and its fine vocal powers. when the canary islands were occupied by the spaniard in these birds were taken in large numbers to spain, from which they spread over europe, becoming the pets of many a cottage and castle home. in many of the old pictures we see their little forms, now perched in a corner, now sitting on a lady's finger. the canary belongs to the family of finches, its place being between the linnet and the goldfinch. in its native islands it dwells near man, building its nest--of moss, feathers, hair, etc.--in thick, bushy places. the hen-bird lays an egg every day until from four to six are in the nest, on which she begins to sit. in thirteen days the young birds appear and in thirteen more they are able to fly, but their parents feed them for some time longer, on grass seeds or other plant food. we must say that this bird enjoys cage-life, for it seems very happy in its narrow home. it becomes quite tame and fearless, grows to love its mistress, and sings with a freedom that speaks of a joyful heart. in its wild state it is fond of bathing, and it is needful to give it a frequent bath in its cage, if it is to be kept well and tuneful. the cage-canary is a home bird, unlike the bird of the free air. it has been made over by man and fitted for its new life. early in its cage career the country people around innsbruck, in the tyrol, became active in raising these little vocalists, and from there they spread to germany and the netherlands. to-day they are raised in large numbers in the hartz mountain region of germany, where great care is taken in teaching them to sing. they are also raised and taught in other countries. the canary is very ready to take on new songs and its trainer is careful to keep it from falling into bad habits. if a bird happens to hear a bad note it is apt to take it up and it is hard to break it of the fault. so the good singers are kept where they cannot hear those of poor voice, and a number of the finest singers are kept as models to teach the young birds how to sing. bird lovers have their tastes. some like a loud song, with high notes and long trills. others prefer a soft, warbling, flute-like note, with clear flourishes of song, and no one likes these to be broken by a sharp "chap-chap" or "tsi-tsi" or other vocal fault. it takes nearly a year for a canary to gain its education. in that time it will learn several airs. some of these may be forgotten, and then the model songster is brought near so that they may be learned again. it is said that some canaries have even been taught to speak a few words. sometimes a bird that has a shrill or too sharp note is kept in the shade until this is corrected. and the canary often sings better in the little cages of the dealers than in the large, fine cages of its final home. thus singing birds as well as singing people have their own fancies. rape and hemp seeds are the principal food of these birds. a little flax-seed is also good for them, as it helps to fatten them. they are fond of flowering groundsel and chickweed and a very small supply of these is good for their health. they also have a sweet tooth and are very fond of sugar. shall we say something about the different breeds of canaries? there are numbers of them and each country has its own. we can tell the breeds apart by their shape and song. thus the english canaries are very tall, with a tuft or top-knot on the head. the french breed is noted for its slender form. in germany more heed is paid to song than to shape. holland was long known for a fine, strong race which is still called the dutch canary, though it is no longer to be found in that country. in the united states shape and color are the points looked after, birds of elegant form being preferred. the belgian canaries have been called the "nobles" of the canary race. they are large, with narrow, flattish head and very gentle eyes. the neck is flexible, the head is carried straight forward and the back and tail bend almost straight downward, this giving the bird an odd appearance. its little form and the way it carries its head, with the mild look in its eyes, are notable points. the scotch fancy canary, now common in england and the united states, is like the belgian but has a much flatter head. the marvellous mocking bird we have said much about the canary because it is far the most common of cage-birds, but we have at home a bird of our own, not so often kept in cages, but in its way one of the most marvellous of birds. this is the mocking-bird, a native american with so rich and tender a voice that in the west indies, where it is very common, it is called the nightingale. this is due both to the melody of its song and its habit of singing at night. it is not quiet in the day-time, but then shows its powers in a different way. it is this that gives it the name of mocking bird, for it has a wonderful power of taking up the songs of other birds, imitating them so exactly as to cheat the ears of all that listen. now it takes up the song of one bird, now of another, and fills the air with its fine mockery. by night, when other birds are apt to be still, it keeps to its sweet native song, but by day takes delight in its strange faculty of imitation. not only does it repeat musical tones, but also the harshest tones it hears, making of it all a strange medley. [illustration: the mocking bird. no other bird has such versatile vocal powers] this is seen in a striking way when the mocking bird is caged. then it mocks the many sounds around it. it will bark like a dog, mew like a cat, crow like a cock, cackle like a hen, creak like a wheelbarrow, and take up a host of varied sounds. and while doing this it spreads its wings, expands its tail, and throws itself about the cage as if it was having the best time of its life. it can be easily taught to whistle a tune of some length, but never seems to imitate the voice of man. it rarely, however, sings as well in the cage as in its free state. the wild bird seems to like to be near man and often builds its nest in a tree or bush close to a house. while the female bird is sitting the male is very wide-awake and shows the greatest courage in driving enemies away from the nest. in the brooding season they will often gather in flocks and fight off birds of prey of much larger size. a snake that comes too near is killed by a quick series of blows on the head, and the cat soon finds that it is best to keep away from the mocking bird's nest. there is another bird of the same family that dwells much farther north, being common as far north as massachusetts. it has powers of imitation like those of the mocking bird and a sweet song of its own, but when disturbed gives vent to a sharp, mew-like cry from which it has got the name of cat-bird. like the mocking bird, it builds its nest near man and makes no attempt to hide it, but fights off enemies with a like boldness. no one thinks of caging this bird, for its cat-call is not at all pleasant and has given it a bad name, but its song is pleasing to our ears. other caged songsters the smaller birds are often so bright and beautiful and have such musical voices, that many of them are made tenants of the cage. here they do not seem sad or mournful, but are likely to make themselves much at home. there is the bullfinch, a nervous, uneasy fellow, always in a flutter, yet easy to keep in cage life and ready to raise a family in captivity. these birds are at once beautiful and tuneful. in color they are as handsome as many of the birds of the tropics, while they can be taught a variety of bird airs. they need to be coaxed, and their tutor must use the same coaxing words and gestures and even wear the same coat when he gives his bird its lessons. but a well-taught bird brings a high price and it pays the poor folks of parts of europe to spend much time in teaching them. it takes time and trouble to teach a bullfinch to whistle a tune, but it pays for the labor. a young bird must be taken from the nest before it has begun to twitter and kept where it can hear no sounds except those made by its teacher. in this way it fails to learn its native tones and may be taught to do wonderful things, whistling a whole tune as well as any boy could do it. i can prove this best by telling a little story. there was a flute-player at a london theatre who had an ebony flute with silver keys. but he did not often use it, for one of its upper notes was not good. he lived with a tailor and the two were great friends. one night, while he was at the theatre, some one stole his silver flute. he could not think who had done it, except it was an old woman who did the work of the house. but nothing could be found out and in time the loss was forgotten. a few months later the tailor moved to a town some miles away, but the two were still friends and at times paid each other visits. once, after a year had gone by, the flute-player went to see the tailor, and was pleased to find that his friend had a splendid bullfinch, which could whistle three tunes. but there was something curious about these tunes. whenever the bird came to a certain high note it would skip this and go on to the next. the musician was quick to notice that this missing note was the very one that was wanting in his flute. he sharply questioned the tailor, who was forced to admit that he had stolen the flute and had used it in teaching the bird its tunes. there are many other birds that can be taught to whistle tunes. the english blackbird is one of these. a writer tells us a pretty story of this bird. he says:-- "i once knew a bird that could whistle 'polly hopkins' with wonderful accuracy. his owner sold him, at the same time making the purchaser acquainted with the bird's favorite tune. as soon as the gentleman got home he at once hung up the blackbird, and, going to the piano, struck up 'polly hopkins.' but he introduced parts into the tune that the bird had never heard before; so, after listening awhile, the little critic began hissing, fluttering his wings and thus showing his distaste. much surprised, the gentleman left off playing, and then the blackbird opened his throat and favored his new master with _his_ version of 'polly hopkins,' nor would he ever listen with any patience to any other version." i must also tell the story of the wood-chopper's ghost. once there was a lively wood-chopper who was always whistling and singing while at work. but in spite of his jolly temper something went wrong and one day he hung himself in his shop. some days later other men at work in the wood-shed were dreadfully scared by hearing the dead man's favorite tune, "william at the garden gate," whistled in his old way. there was a rush from the shop, which they thought haunted, and as the tune was kept up day after day, no one would go near the place. finally the mystery was made clear. a thrush was seen to fly from a near by grove to the roof of the wood-shed and pipe up the ghostly tune. it had learned it from the wood-chopper's lips and came back every day to the same spot to whistle the tune. the skylark, a very common bird of britain and europe, is so famous for the charm of its song that many of the poets have sung its praises in rare verse. it does not, like many birds, sing when sitting, but pours out its voice when on the wing and when far up in the sky. from this it gets its name. from the upper air its sweet notes come tumbling down in pearly music, "the notes nearly all alike and in the same key, but rapid, swarming, prodigal, showering down as thick and fast as drops of rain in a summer shower." this is a favorite cage-bird, one that lives many years in its narrow home. it sings in the cage as sweetly as when in the air, pouring forth its song many times in an hour and for weeks and months together. it is also a loving little pet and grows very fond of those who care for it. of course all of you have read of the nightingale, the bulbul of the persian poets, a bird whose very name seems to sing. this little songster has for ages been famous for its loud, rich and varied tones, its song being full of long, plaintive, quivering strains. singing all night long, when most of the birds are still, it has been a favorite among bird lovers and poets in all lands, the persian poets making the loves of the bulbul and the rose a theme of many of their verses. its song has a mournful tone, but as it is sung to its mate in the nesting season, the sadness in its voice must keep company with gladness in its heart. the nightingale is often kept as a cage-bird, and if taken before the nesting season soon grows to like its prison life, but if taken after it has joined its mate it will pine away and die. it is best to take it from the nest when young and bring it up by hand. in its wild state its song ends with the end of the nesting season, but in the cage it is kept up for a much longer time and is very pleasing. for an american nightingale we have the mocking-bird, a sweet night singer which, as i have said, is given that name in the west indies. another is a variety of the grosbeak, called the cardinal bird from its red color. this is called the virginia nightingale in england and is one of the finest american song-birds. its loud, clear, sweet song is heard chiefly in the mornings and evenings and the beauty of its plumage adds to its attraction. the thrushes are also fine cage-birds, the black thrush having a lively whistle and the art of taking up the songs of other birds. in this it is far from equal to the mocking bird, but with care can be taught to sing a number of bird airs. the song-thrush or mavis of england is well-known through europe as a singer of fine powers, one of the best of the songful train and a rival of the nightingale in its power of song. another of the same tribe is the missel-thrush, with a good voice but not the equal of that of the mavis. one of the sweetest of american bird singers is the wood-thrush or hermit-thrush, not as a cage-bird but as a haunter of secret places, from which its voice comes rich and full, sweet and placid, like the notes of a flute sounded in the morning air. so far i have spoken only of the singing and whistling of birds, but there are other things they can be taught. many have seen trick birds--the goldfinch, the canary, and other birds--that could do wonderful feats. they have been taught to fire little cannons, to pretend to be dead, to climb a ladder, to stand unmoved when fireworks were set off, and many other things of strange kind. but if those who have seen these tricks knew how the birds were taught they would never go again to see them, for it is said to be done by cruelty. but there are bird tricks in which no cruelty is needed. thus a bird may be taught to draw up water to his cage by means of a tiny chain and pail, pulling at the chain with his beak and holding every link drawn up with his feet. he may also be taught to ring for his food. a little bell is hung in a corner of his cage and he is kept a few hours without seed. then, by a thread fastened to the bell, it is rung and at once a few seeds are put in the bird's seed cup. the little chap soon learns that he is fed when the bell rings and it will not be long before he will pull the thread and ring the bell himself. the parrot as a talker chief among the talking birds are the parrots. these quaint and curious winged chatterers have long been kept in the home of man, for we have tales of them more than two thousand years old. it was when the first parrot reached england, but now they are to be seen in all parts of the world, some kept for their brilliant colors, some for their wonderful power of speech. best known among them as a cage-bird is the gray-parrot, the ablest talker of the family, the amusing poll-parrot seen in so many homes. though a cage is provided, they become such home-bodies as to be given all the liberty they want, being often free to go about the house, though they look upon the cage as their special dwelling place. [illustration: the white faced parrot] poll-parrot has a great deal of human nature in his little body. he thinks, he remembers, he imitates, he enjoys a joke, loves his friends and hates his enemies, and when he learns words he often knows just what they mean and when and how to use them. when our parrot says "polly wants a cracker!" it may not be a cracker that she expects but it is something to eat, and she is apt to keep up the call until she gets it. there is no end to the tales about parrots and their odd speeches, often strangely fitted to the time and place. they can be taught to say a great many things, and often know just how to bring them in. here is one told by mr. romanes, showing a parrot's wit in a tricky way no man could surpass. "one day the cat and parrot had a quarrel. i think the cat had upset polly's food, or something of the kind; however, they seemed all right again. an hour or so after polly was standing on the edge of the table; she called out in a tone of extreme affection, "'puss, puss, come then--come then, pussy.' "pussy went and looked up innocently enough. polly with her beak seized a basin of milk standing by and tipped the basin and all its contents over the cat; then chuckled diabolically, of course broke the basin, and half drowned the cat." here is another story of parrot wit. the bird was making a variety of squeals and cries. one of the men who heard began to imitate her. this roused the parrot to try new cries, and at last she made one so odd that he could not repeat it, try as he would. proud of her triumph, the parrot gave a loud "ha! ha! ha!" swung on her perch with her head downward, sprang about the cage, tossed a piece of wood over her head, and kept repeating the cry, followed by peals of "ha! ha! ha!" till everybody joined in her wild laugh. the parrot has a good memory and will pick up a good many words and phrases, even the verses of a song taught to her. many she gets by listening to words often said and at times will come out with a new bit of apt language to the surprise of every one who hears it. if a word she has once learned comes into her head, she often follows this word with all the other words and sayings learned at the same time. here is a parrot story going back as far as , one which was much talked of at the time. it is of an old parrot of brazil when prince maurice was governor there. the prince was told of the strange talking powers of this bird and sent for it. when it was brought into the room, where were many men with the prince, it began, "what a company of white men are here." "what is this man?" asked one, pointing to the prince. "some general or other," said the parrot. "where did you come from?" asked the prince. "from marinnan." "to whom do you belong?" "to a portuguese." "what do you do here?" asked the prince. "i look after the chickens." "you look after the chickens," said the prince, with a laugh. "yes, and i know well enough how to do it," and the parrot began to cluck like a hen calling chickens. it is hard to believe that a parrot could keep up a conversation in this correct way, but the story comes from sir william temple, who is very good authority, and who was told it by the prince himself. we are told of a french parrot which could laugh like a man, and would break out into a hearty chuckle when some one said (of course in french), "laugh, parrot, laugh." the odd thing was that it would follow the laugh with the words, "oh, what a fool to make me laugh!" and repeat this two or three times. a lady had a gray parrot four years old which was very quick in taking up new words and very correct in using them. when he did some bit of mischief his mistress would scold him, to which he would reply angrily, "not a naughty poll!" "not a bold, bad bird!" and would stamp his foot, crying "i am not--i am not." if she praised him he would tell her she was a darling and that he loved her. he was jealous when children were present and were made much of, and would cry, "go away, bold boy!" "go away, bold girl," never mistaking between boy and girl. when a visitor took off coat or shawl the bird would act as if trying to take off his wings, and laugh heartily at his performance if any one else laughed. he would play with the cats till he was tired of them and then whistle for the dog to chase them away. [illustration: a gray parrot on his perch. waiting to speak his piece] we might go on and on with parrot stories, for they are endless. very likely many of you could tell me as good ones as i can tell you. one thing of note about these birds is their love of a joke. here is a tale of one of these jokers that loved to make fun of carlo, the dog. carlo would be snoozing in a corner of the room when polly would cry out in a voice exactly like his master's, "hi, carlo! cats!" up would jump the dog, rush into the garden, look fiercely round, then, hearing a fresh cry of "cats! cats! seize them, carlo!" would bound over the wall into the next garden. the next moment the bird, with a wonderful change of tone, would call out in the master's sternest tones, "come back, carlo! come back, you naughty dog!" back would come carlo in a slinking way, as if expecting to feel his master's cane. another bird was fond of playing jokes of a different kind on the house dog. it would whistle and call out in a soft tone, "gyp, poor old gyp! does gyp want to go out?" the dog, delighted at the prospect of a run with its master, would begin to frisk and dance about, looking around to see where he was. this got to be a common trick with the bird, for the dog never found out that it was being tricked by the parrot. other talking birds many of my readers must know that there are other birds that can talk, some of them as well as the parrot. those who may have read the novel of "barnaby rudge," by charles dickens, are likely to remember the raven of that story, with its "never say die." a very famous bird of this kind is poe's raven, told of in the poem of that name, whose one word was "nevermore." these are birds of fiction and poetry but there are talking ravens in the annals of fact. there was one, some years ago, at home in a tavern at stoke newington, england, who could not bear gray or white horses, though it did not mind any other color. no sooner would a horse of the hated color come up to the water-trough for a drink than peg would perch on the edge of the trough and swear lustily at the poor animal. or else it would start it off with a loud "gee, whoa," in the exact tones of a carter. one day peg saw a sailor take some tobacco from a box at his elbow, put it in his mouth, and begin to chew. the bird watched him closely and seemed to fancy that this must be something good to eat, for the instant the man's back was turned she hopped up and took a mouthful of the weed. for the rest of that day peg was a very sick bird, and even the next day was far from well. she had learned a lesson which she did not forget. some days later a white horse, drawing a hay cart, was driven up to the trough for a drink. peg at once hopped up and began her abuse, but the horse had met the bird before and paid no attention to her impudence. at this she flew into the house where some men were smoking, caught up a paper of tobacco from the table, and flew back with it, dropping it into the horse's nose bag. if a strange dog happened to stray up to the inn peg was at once wide awake. up she would skip, and when close to the dog's ear would shout in her loud, harsh voice, "halloa, whose dog are you?" before the cur could turn she would break out in a great show of rage and loud cries of "hi! ho! go home!" which usually sent the intruder off up the street at a frantic rate. the raven belongs to the family of the crows, in which are some other birds, as the jackdaw and the magpie, that can be taught to speak. they are not to be compared with the parrot, yet they must be classed with the talking birds. the magpie has the tendency of picking up words here and there of a sort not suited to polite society, and is not well fitted for a house pet. he is quite ready to try his sharp beak on his master and is like the crow in stealing every bright thing he sees. the magpie has a cousin, the jackdaw, who is not quite his equal as a thief, but is not as honest as a parson. he also has the gift of speech and at times can use it with fine effect. the bird is easily tamed and taught to talk and there are some good stories told of him. one or two of these you may enjoy reading. there is a small shell-fish called the cockle which is often pickled in england, and in a house where the folks were fond of pickled cockles was a jackdaw, who was quite as fond of them. the cook had pickled some of these and put them in a jar, covering it with parchment. but the next morning she found the cover partly ripped off and some of the cockles missing. at a loss to know who had done this mischief, she tied on the cover again and went about her work. at midday, when she was busy over the stove, basting a roast joint, she heard a sound of tearing parchment and looked round to see the jackdaw with his head hidden in the jar, feasting away greedily. the cook at that moment had a ladle full of hot fat in her hand, and in a rage threw it over the thief, crying out "you rogue! you go to the cockles, do you!" all the feathers were scalded off of jack's head and he went about the house, bald and ashamed. some days later his master gave a party, among his guests being one who was quite bald. in the afternoon the bird was brought up stairs to amuse the party, and he did so very neatly. flying to the mantel, he saw the man with the bald head. at once he flew to his shoulder, and cocking his eye at the bare poll in a funny fashion, cried out, "you rogue! you go to the cockles, do you!" another jackdaw belonged to a retired innkeeper, who, while in business, had taught the bird to say, "mind the reckoning," and also to call out "no trust." his cage hung in the public room, where, no doubt, he helped his master in making a fortune on which to retire. long after he had gone out of business some burglars broke into the house to rob him, getting in through the window of the room where the jackdaw was kept. as the thieves talked in low tones about the job before them and what part of the house they should visit first, the words, "mind the reckoning," came in loud tones to their guilty ears. "good lord!" cried one of the scared thieves, "i trust we----" "no trust! no trust!" came in the same hoarse voice, "mind the reckoning! mind the reckoning!" away went the scared thieves, through the window and over the garden wall, leaving their tools behind them, while the daw roused the house with its screams of delight over their flight. the fashion of stealing of the crow tribe makes a pet crow not very safe to keep about. any bright or shining thing, like a pair of scissors, a silver spoon, or a gold stud, is sure to take his fancy and when once in his beak the chance is that it will never be seen again, for he is a cute chap at hiding his spoils. the crow indeed is a sharp fellow in more ways than one. he is an expert at tricks. here is one told of the indian crow. a dog--a fox-terrier of good training--was one day gnawing a chicken bone on the veranda when two crows saw him at his meal and lighted on the veranda railing, where they began to croak. the very sight of a crow is usually enough to make a dog forget his breakfast and fly at the bird; but this time jack merely growled and kept on gnawing. as this did not work, one of the birds dropped down to the veranda floor and croaked again. again jack growled, but he went on gnawing. the crow now strolled round the veranda for a minute till the dog was intent on his bone, then hopped up and gave his tail a sharp nip. this was too much for the fox-terrier. with a howl of pain he turned upon the bird, when the other crow, which had been quietly waiting its chance, swooped down, snatched up the bone, and flew away, its comrade in mischief quickly joining it. jack's look of disgust, when he found how neatly he had been fooled by a pair of crows, was a sight worth seeing. have you ever seen a starling and heard one talk? if not you have missed a treat, for this bird has fine powers of speech. he can whistle, croak and talk and is one of the choice delights of many a cottage home in europe. he has lately been imported into this country. the common starling is a very pretty creature, clad in brown, with purple and green hues, and a buff-colored tip to each feather which gives the bird a fine speckled appearance. in its wild state it has a soft and sweet song, and in a cage is a pert and friendly house pet, one that mocks the songs of others, learns to whistle tunes, and can talk as clearly as many of its keepers. i must tell the story of a pair of very cute and lively starlings, as it is told us by the gentleman in whose house these birds were born and brought up. dick and his wife lived in a large cage, with all the things needed to make than enjoy life. once a day the cage door was opened and they took a bath on the kitchen floor, dick first and his wife afterwards, for he was a little household tyrant, cuffing his mate soundly when she tried to be first in anything. [illustration: the starling. one of the talking birds] dick's first lesson was in imitating the rumble of carts in the street. of this he was very proud and soon learned to speak his own name, always with the prefix "pretty." he was always "pretty dick." as for his wife, he gave her the strange name of "hezekiah." how he learned this no one knew, but he always used it. thus if his wife tried to join him in a song, he would stop and call out angrily, "hezekiah! hezekiah!" then he would start again, and if she forgot his scolding and joined in again he was apt to chase her around the cage and give her a sound thrashing. at their meals dick showed the same spirit. his wife was not allowed to touch a morsel till his lordship was done. if she dared to hop down and snatch a meal while he was singing it was a sad time for her if he caught her at it. but though dick was a tyrant to his wife, to those who cared for him he was a loving little pet. he was very quick at learning new words, and soon knew a large number, which he never grew tired of using. he grew so tame that he was given full freedom of the house and garden, and would spend hours in the grounds, catching flies, singing, and talking to himself as if repeating his lessons. he and the cat and kittens were the warmest friends, but he would play with the dogs also and often went to sleep on their backs. "doctor" was his name for his teacher, and if in singing an air he forgot part of it he would cry "doctor, doctor," and repeat the last note once or twice, as if to say, "what comes next?" in this way he learned to pipe the tunes of--_duncan grey_ and _the sprig of shillelah_, without a single wrong note. when a tune was played on the fiddle, he would listen with close attention, and when it was done would say "bravo" in three distinct tones, thus: "bravo! doctor; br-r-ravo! bravo!" he got somehow into the fashion of starting a sentence with the verb "is," spoken loudly. "is?" he would say. "is what, dick?" "is the darling starling a pretty pet?" "no doubt about that." he had the habit of combining his words in various ways, and one day asked: "is the darling doctor a rascal?" "just as you think," was the reply. "tse! tse! tse! whew! whew! whew!" sang dick, finishing with _duncan grey_ and part of _the sprig of shillelah_. he had been taught to say, "love is the soul of a nate irishman," but was often heard to vary it in such ways as "love is the soul of a nate irish starling," or "is love the soul of a darling pretty dick," and so on. here is a sample of a chat between dick and his master. "doctor," the bird would begin, "_is_ it, _is_ it a nate irish pet?" "silence and go to sleep. i want to write," said the doctor. "eh?" dick would say; "_what_ is it? _what_ d'ye say?" if no answer came the bird would break out: "_is_ it sugar,--snails--sugar, snails, and brandy?" then, "doctor, doctor!" "well, dickie, what is it now?" "doctor--whew." that meant the doctor was to whistle. "i shant." "tse! tse! tse!" dick would chirp, and then say, "doctor, will you go a clinking?" to dick a fly was always a clink, and clinking meant fly-hunting. perched on his master's finger he would be carried around the room and held up to every resting fly. he never missed one. as dick grew older he became more of a tyrant to his wife. she could do nothing to please him, he attacked her every morning and the last thing at night and half-starved her besides. sometimes she used to peck him back, driven to it by his ill temper, and this led dick's master to play him a trick. one day when dick had bullied her worse than ever, he took hezekiah out of the cage and fastened a small pin to her bill, the point sticking out a little. when she was put back dick accused her of "going on shore without leave," and pecked her so viciously that she gave him a sharp peck in return. that dick jumped when he felt the pin may well be said, and his look was comical as he cried out, "eh! _what_ d'ye say? hezekiah! hezekiah!" hezekiah, pleased with her success, now chased him round and round the cage, punishing him until the doctor opened the door and let the victim out. but the bird could not spend her life with a pin tied to her bill, and in the end, to stop the family quarrels, the doctor gave her away to a friend and dick was left alone. for this strange story of a talking starling we are indebted to robert cochrane, who gives it in his book "four hundred animal stories." that any bird could talk with so much sense and reason seems hard to believe, though the writer is good authority. here is his wind up of dick's story: "poor dickie! one day he was shelling peas to himself in the garden, when some boys startled him and he flew away. i suppose he lost himself and could not find his way back. at all events i only saw him once again. i was going down through an avenue of trees about a mile from the house, when a voice in a tree above hailed me: 'doctor! doctor! what _is_ it?' that was dick; but a crow flew past and scared him again, and away he flew--for ever." [illustration] vii our cousin the monkey the organ-grinder and his monkey are two animals well known to us all, and we may have looked at them now and then and asked ourselves which of the two had the best brain. the one spends his time turning a crank and grinding out something that passes for music. his little brother dances about on his nimble legs, holds out his hat for pennies, and chatters away in a language of his own. we do not understand what he has to say; but neither do we understand a chinaman or a frenchman. we say to ourselves that he has been taught his tricks; but so has his master been taught how to use his music-box. no doubt the master learns his art more quickly than the monkey, but then he understands what is told him while his poor little comrade does not, but has to be shown everything he is to do, so this gives the man a great advantage. now do not think that i am trying to say that the monkey has as good a brain as the man. all i want to say is that he has a brain that acts in the same way. but it gets to its upper level of thought before it reaches what is a low level in man. the monkey can think as we can, and often shows that he is thinking. so can many other animals, such as the dog and the parrot; but while the monkey looks more like a man than these animals, it also seems to think more like a man. have you ever been to the zoo and seen a cage full of monkeys, or seen a cage of them in a travelling menagerie? lively, cunning, jolly little fellows they are, playing tricks on one another, leaping and climbing, never still for two minutes together, and the most curious of all the animals we know. what does this curiosity mean? does it not mean that the monkey wants to know, just as we want to know when we show curiosity? and wanting to know is the first step towards getting to know. the monkey as a pet among the many pets kept by man the monkey must be included. we take a fancy to it as if it were a far-off cousin of our own. with its power of walking on its hind legs and using its front legs as arms and its paws as hands, and also often in the shape of its face, it has something very human about it, and there is no animal in which young folks take more delight--and many older folks also. what many enjoy in it is its love of mischief. there is no trick that it is not up to. at any rate when we hear of boys playing "monkey tricks" they seem to us, in this way, on the same level as the monkey. they would likely play more of them if they had the monkey's nimble ways, for the monkey has the best of the boy in getting out of reach. many of them can even use their tails to swing on, leaving all their legs free for acts of mischief. all this is very well in its way, but it stands in the way of keeping the monkey as a pet, for it is apt in the end to become a nuisance. no one knows what it is going to do next. it is as full of tricks as a watermelon is of seeds. as we do not enjoy a boy who is too fond of mischief, so we do not enjoy a monkey. he makes too much trouble. and then he is of no use except as a pet. we can not often put him to work, except in such ways as taking up pennies for an organ-grinder. it is said that some people in the south are talking of using the monkey to pick cotton. this sounds very nice. no doubt the monkey can be taught to pick cotton, as it has been taught to do many other things. but it is not to be trusted. any fancy, a bird flying over, a mouse stealing through the cotton field, will be likely to draw it from its task, and if any one tries to punish it for not keeping to its work he cannot be sure but that the little rascal will have revenge in some costly way. how monkeys take revenge many stories might be told of monkeys that take revenge on those who treat them badly. one or two of these may be worth telling. there is one story of a gentleman who kept a pet monkey and lived next door to a widow lady who had three boys, all fond of mischief. these boys were at home from school for the holidays and spent much of their time in teasing the monkey, in such ways as throwing lighted fire-crackers at him and giving him nuts filled with pepper and mustard. the little sufferer did not forget. when the boys set out on their return to school the monkey watched them from a hiding place till they were well out of the way. then he crept slyly along the balcony till he came to a window of the widow's house, looked in to see that there was no one about, then went in, found a bottle of ink on the table, and sprinkled the ink widely over the carpet and furniture. he was caught at the trick, handed over to his master, and soundly whipped. but he had his revenge for the nuts and crackers. here is a tale of a jealous monkey. his master, who made a great pet of him, belonged to a yacht club and used to take him along when out on a cruise. every one on board petted him and he felt that he was folks like all the rest and a gentleman of importance. but the time came when the monkey found his nose out of joint. this time there was a pretty girl on board and the attention that had been given to master pug was given to her. she said that she did not like monkeys, so our little friend had to keep in the background, a thing which he did not like at all. master pug waited his chance for revenge on the girl who did not like monkeys. the party on the yacht went ashore to see some caves and he managed to slip into the boat unseen and go with them. keeping his eye open for chances, he spied a large crab, which he picked up and put against the young lady's heel. in an instant it gripped her with its strong claw and she gave a loud scream of pain. the monkey got a whipping, for some one had seen him in the act, but very likely he felt that he had got even. monkeys do not forget easily and will often bear malice for a long time. a lady named mrs. lee, when at the zoölogical garden in paris, saw a big ape in a cage ill treating one of his fellows. to stop him she tapped him smartly on the hands. this the savage creature did not forget nor forgive. whenever he saw her at later times in the monkey house, or even heard her voice, he would fly into a passion, roll about his cage in rage, and once when she came within reach he seized her gown through the bars of his cage and tore out a piece of it, though it was of strong material. shall we tell the story of one that acted in a cruel manner? he was kept tied to a stake in the grounds and the crows of the neighborhood often robbed him of his food. he got the best of the robbers in a way very artful, even for a monkey. [illustration: feeding monkeys at the zoölogical garden] one day he lay on the ground quite still, as if he was dead. the birds came near and picked at his food but the cunning little rascal never stirred. growing bolder, the crows approached until one of them was within reach. in an instant the monkey made a quick grab and caught the culprit. holding his prisoner firmly, he pulled out its feathers until not one was left in its naked body. then he flung it towards its companions, who were screaming with rage and fear. at once, for reasons best known to the crow community, they made a fierce attack on their featherless comrade and pecked it to death. those who saw this affair say that the delight on the monkey's face, as he saw this, was too great to be described. imitation a monkey trait the monkey is an animal easy to teach, for it is very ready to do what it sees those around it do. it thus has two qualities very useful in teaching, curiosity and imitation. when it sees anything being done it is apt to watch closely and then try to do the same thing. these qualities we all have. many of us are curious to see and prompt to do what our teacher does, and in this way the monkey is like man in his thinking powers. it does not wait to be told to do things, but will try to do them itself. this faculty has led to some comical results, as you will think when you read the following stories. we are told of a retired admiral and his wife who had a monkey as one of their home pets. the admiral had a habit of reading the paper aloud to his wife and would strike it in a testy way when he read something that made him angry. one day his wife, hearing a strange noise in the dining-room, looked in to see what caused it. what she saw was very amusing. in the arm chair sat master monkey, with the admiral's smoking-cap on his head and the admiral's spectacles on his nose. in his hand was an open newspaper, and this he shook and patted, just as he had seen his master do, jabbering away in a very funny manner to the cat that lay blinking on the hearth. so close was the imitation to the tone and manner of the testy old sea-dog that the lady broke up the performance with a shout of laughter. a mrs. loudan tells us of a case of the same kind, but with a different audience from the cat. it is told of father casaubon, a priest, who had a favorite barbary ape that grew very fond of him and tried to follow him wherever he went. one day, when he set out for church, the ape in some way got loose and followed him unseen. when the church was reached the ape slipped in and climbed up to the sounding-board, where he lay quiet till the sermon began. while the reverend father spoke, the ape perched itself just above his head and watched his actions, and soon began to imitate the gestures made by him. the congregation could not help smiling and tittering at this. casaubon scolded them severely for their behavior, suiting his actions to his words, while the monkey imitated all his movements in a very amusing manner. at this the congregation could not keep still, but broke into a roar of laughter, in which the angry priest joined when its cause was pointed out to him. he took good care that his ape should not attend church again. these are perhaps enough of this sort of stories, though there are one or two others which you may care to read. one is of a painter who, on going into his studio, saw his pet monkey seated before his nearly finished picture, with brush and painting implements in hand, laying on the colors with a free touch that made bad work of the artist's masterpiece. a second has to do with an english vicar and his family, who came home to dinner one sunday after the morning service. on entering the dining room they saw the table-cloth, which had been laid for dinner, spread out smoothly on the floor, with all the plates and dishes, knives and forks, laid upon it in a way that showed how well the lesson had been learned. beside it sat the pet monkey, with a look of satisfaction that showed it was very proud of its work. a monkey, in fact, knows very well when it has done a thing as it should be done, and likes to be praised for it. i cannot say that they always get praise, certainly not for jobs like those just told, in which the element of mischief is mixed with that of good work. but when we talk of the intelligence of animals we must admit that the monkey goes ahead of the dog, cat, or other household pet. certainly none of these would think of a piece of work like that, laying the table-cloth on the floor and properly placing on it all the table ware. many monkeys have such a grave and quiet way of doing things, and look at us with such bright and meaning eyes, that we are brought to think that if they could talk they would have something to say worth hearing. in fact, there are people who think they could talk if they chose. there is the story of the southern slaves who thought they showed their wit in not talking, since if they did they would have a hoe put in their hands and be set at hoeing. a traveller, writing about java, tells us something of the same sort. he speaks of a sultan who had a well trained corps of monkeys and apes. "the orang-outangs and long-armed apes," he says, "had been trained to go through a variety of military exercises; and when one of us expressed surprise at their seeming intelligence the sultan said gravely: 'they are as really _men_ as you and i, and have the power of speech if they chose to use it. they do not talk because they do not wish to work and be made slaves of.'" the malays in all the islands believe this and in their language orang-outang means "man of the woods." certainly monkeys can be trained to act very much like men. mrs. lee tells us of one that has been taught by a frenchman to act in a very polite fashion. one day she met this monkey as he was on his way up stairs. he made way for her very politely and stood on one side to let her pass. "good morning," she said, and he took off his cap and made a low bow. "are you going away? where is your passport?" at this question he took a square piece of paper out of his cap and showed it to her. his master, who was following mrs. lee, now told him that the lady's dress was dusty. he at once went to the man, took a brush out of his pocket, and raising the hem of mrs. lee's dress, brushed it and did the same with her shoes. but while monkeys can be trained to do some surprising things, they are not all alike. some can be taught easily and some not at all. darwin tells us of a man whose work it was to train monkeys to act, and who bought them from the zoölogical society for twenty dollars apiece. he offered double the price if he might keep them for three or four days so as to pick out a good one. when asked how he could tell this in so short a time he said that what he wanted was a monkey that would pay attention. if when he was talking to one he could not keep its attention, but it turned aside to look at a fly on the wall or other trifle, it was of no use. to force such a monkey to act by whipping would only make it sulky. but a monkey that gave him close attention when he was talking or showing it something could always be trained. [illustration: a pair of midget donkeys driven by a baboon and groomed by a monkey] any one who pays attention can be taught, whether boy, monkey, or dog. as long ago as this was shown in london in the case of the monkey and the dog. in that year everybody in london was going to see and was talking about "mrs. midnight's animal comedians." this was a troupe of trained dogs and monkeys who were taught to dance a ballet, dressed as ladies and gentlemen. this they did very neatly and cleverly. but their great act was when, dressed as soldiers, they took part in a mock battle. a fort was built on the stage which was defended by the monkeys and attacked by the dogs. everything was done as in regular battle. the dogs carried ladders and tried to climb them and capture the fort. the monkeys, armed with muskets, fired on them and the air was full of smoke and the smell of powder. after a hard fight the dogs took the fort. then the monkeys dropped their muskets, the smoke cleared away, and both parties were seen drawn up side by side, waving their hats, while the band played "god save the king." the kinds of monkeys the stories we have given about monkeys are only a few of the many that might be told, and it is well to give some more to show that monkeys think and act, up to a certain limit, very much as we do ourselves. but you must bear in mind that there are many kinds of monkeys, some with good and some with bad tempers and some with much better brains than others. when we talk of the house dog and cat, the horse and cow, it must be remembered that each of these is a single species of animal. but when we talk of the monkey we have to do with a whole family of animals, of a great many different species. thus there are new world monkeys and old world monkeys which differ so that we can always tell them apart. one curious thing about the new world monkeys is that they all live in trees and have long tails, which they can use in such a way that they seem to have five legs. they twist their tails firmly around the limbs of trees and swing about, leaving their legs, or arms, free to help them in other ways. there is nothing like this in the old world monkeys. some of these have no tails. others have long tails, but none of them have learned how to use these as ropes to swing on from tree limbs. all monkeys have thinking powers, which they show in various ways, but the best thinkers among them are those known as man-like monkeys. this is the meaning of the name we give them, that of anthropoid apes. they are the highest members of the monkey family, and are like men in a good many ways. they have no tails, are of large size, and can stand and walk upright if they want to--though they do not often want to. their arms are longer and their legs shorter than ours are, and they live much in trees, where they have to use both feet and hands in getting about. so, when they come down to the ground they also use their arms to help them get about. they do not walk on four legs in the way of most other animals, nor on two legs in the way of men, but move in a jumping fashion, putting their hands to the ground and jumping through them. this looks like an awkward way of travelling, but they can get over the ground pretty fast, for all that. a fact of much interest is that the bones, the muscles, and the blood-vessels of these animals are exactly like those of man, except in size. and the same may be said of their brains. these are smaller than a man's brain, but they are very much like it in all other ways. the weak point of these brains lies in their small size. they seem to think in the same way as we do, but they come to the end of their thinking powers when we are just past the beginning. there are four different kinds of man-like apes, known as the gorilla, the orang outang, the chimpanzee, and the gibbon. of these the first two are large animals, the gorilla being larger and stronger than a man. it is a savage brute, too wild and fierce to be tamed, but this is not the case with the orang, which can easily be tamed and is very teachable. these two are solitary creatures, living by themselves, but the chimpanzee, which is smaller, is very fond of company, and lives with its fellows in the woods, leaping about among the trees in a very sportive fashion. the gibbons are much smaller than the others, but have very long arms. when they stand erect their hands nearly reach the ground and they may be seen at times walking in the same way as we do, but holding their arms above their heads. if disturbed in any way down come their arms and they run away in the same manner as the other apes. the gibbons are gentle and easily tamed and have often been kept as pets. they are less intelligent than the others, and it is the chimpanzee and the orang which can best be taught man's ways when kept as man's companions. many tales could be told of the smart doings of those tamed apes and it will be well to give a few of them. buffon, a famous french naturalist, tells us of a tame chimpanzee which always walked on its hind-legs, even when it had a heavy weight to carry. the chimpanzee does not do this in the woods, but this one was in company with man and learned to walk in the same way as man. buffon goes on to say: "i have seen this animal present its hand to conduct the company to the door or walk about with them through the room; i have seen it sit at table, unfold its napkin, wipe its lips, make use of a spoon or fork to carry its victuals to its mouth, pour out its drink into a glass, touch glasses when invited, go for its cup and saucer, carry them to the table, pour out its tea, sweeten and leave it to cool, and all this without any other instigation than the signs or commands of its keeper and sometimes even of its own accord. it was gentle and inoffensive; it even approached you with a kind of respect and as if only seeking for caresses." captain brown, the writer of a book on the habits of animals, tells us this interesting story of a trained chimpanzee: "madame grandpré saw on board a vessel a female chimpanzee which showed wonderful proofs of intelligence. she had learned to heat the oven; she took great care not to let any of the coals fall out, which might have done mischief in the ship; and she was very accurate in observing when the oven was heated to the proper degree, of which she apprised the baker. with perfect confidence in her information, he carried his dough to the oven as soon as the chimpanzee came to fetch him. "the animal performed all the duties of a sailor, spliced ropes, handled the sails, and assisted at unfurling them, and she was, in fact, looked upon by the sailors as one of themselves." in the end of her life this animal showed what seemed a human feeling and sense of injustice. the first mate beat her cruelly for something in which she was not in fault and the ill-treatment seemed to break her tender heart. she bore the blows with patience, merely holding up her hands as if praying for mercy, but from that moment she refused to take any food and on the fifth day she died from grief and hunger. the sailors would have liked, if they dared, to treat the mate in the same way he had treated the monkey. what monkeys teach themselves it may be said that much of what has been told is the result of training and only shows that the monkey is easily taught. it does things, it is true, which no dog could be taught to do, but it has the advantage of having fingers and thumbs in place of the dog's paws, and also of having learned how to use these in its forest life in much the same way as we use them. a monkey, for instance, can use a stone as a hammer and some of them can throw stones with a very good aim. they can use other tools, as we shall show. but there is one great difference between the monkeys and the other animals we have spoken of. many of these can be taught to do things we would not expect of them, but they do not often teach themselves. now the monkey does not wait to be taught but is constantly trying new tricks and working them out for itself. it is the most curious of animals, always wanting to know how things should be done, and thinking out for itself the right way to do them. we look with wonder on a dog when it does something that it has been taught. should we not look with more wonder on the monkey when it does things which it has taught itself? i am sure you will enjoy reading some stories in this line. [illustration: reproduced by permission of the philadelphia museums the orang outang in the hands of his keeper] here is one of a tame orang outang told by the french scientist cuvier. this animal, he says, when it wanted to open the door of a room, used to draw a chair from one end of the room to the other, and stand on it to lift the latch. another writer speaks of a monkey which, when it wanted to lift the lid of a chest too heavy for it, used a stick as a lever to raise it. that monkeys use stones to break open oyster-shells has often been seen. mr. romanes tells the following story. a large monkey was kept in a wide cage, in the centre of which was a kind of hut in which he slept. near this hut was an artificial tree, with a branch leading away from the hut. if he wanted to get on this branch he could do so by climbing to the top edge of the hut door. but this door had a bad fashion of swinging shut whenever he pushed it open to climb up. he was seen to try this two or three times, and then to pick up a thick blanket which lay in his cage and throw it over the top of the door so that it could not swing to. in all these cases the animal thought out for itself the best way of gaining its end. these things were done by chimpanzees and orangs, apes of high class, but mr. romanes, in his book on "animal intelligence," tells of quite as strange things done by a south american monkey of which such doings could not be expected. this he kept as a pet and watched for many days. one thing his monkey never liked; that was to be laughed at; any one that did so would be apt to be repaid for his mirth. mr. romanes gave him a hammer to break his nuts with, and from the start he knew just how to use it. "to-day," says romanes, "a strange person (a dressmaker) came into the room where he is tied up and i gave him a walnut that she might see him break it with his hammer. the nut was a bad one and the woman laughed at his disappointed face. he then became very angry and threw at her everything he could lay hands on; first the nut, then the hammer, then a coffee pot which he seized out of the grate, and lastly all his own shawls. he throws things with great precision by holding them in both hands, and extending his long arms well back over his head before projecting the missile, standing erect the while." every day this little fellow did something new and unlooked for, something worked out in his own little brain. when a nut or anything he wanted lay too far away for him to reach it, he being fastened by a chain, he would try to draw it to him with a stick. if he failed in this, he would take his shawl by the two corners, throwing it back over his head and then flinging it forward with all his strength, but not letting go the corners. if it reached far enough to cover the nut, he would draw this in by pulling back the shawl. this is like the story of the elephant that used its trunk to make a wind beyond anything out of its reach, and thus blow it back. his chain was a constant trouble to him and he tried in every way he could to get rid of it. when it was tied to a ring sunk into the floor, he spent a whole day passing the chain back and forward through the ring, and hammering it with all his strength. he went at it again the next day and this time got the chain so tangled up that he could not loosen it. when his master came to his aid he watched him very closely, sometimes taking hold of his fingers and pulling them to one side that he might see better. he would also look up into his master's face in an intelligent way as if to ask him how he did it. after the chain was loosened he worked at it again for hours, but took care not to twist it into the ring a second time. among the many things done by this comical little creature there were two which showed so much monkey wisdom as to be worth telling. his nuts were kept in a trunk which he looked upon as his own property. there were other things kept in the trunk, but if any person opened it to get anything out he grew very angry. it was not on account of the nuts, for he always had plenty of these, but for meddling with his property. one day, when his chain was broken, he got to the trunk and began picking at the lock with his fingers. his master then gave him the key and for two full hours he tried to unlock the trunk. it was a hard lock to open, being a little out of order, but he found the right way to put the key in and turn it in the lock, every time trying the lid to see if it would come up. of course, he had seen others use the key and knew how it should be used. the most remarkable thing done by our smart little friend was the following: one day he got hold of a hearth-brush, one of the kind which has the handle screwed into the brush. in his usual fondness for experiment he at once began on the handle, and soon had it unscrewed and out of the brush. then he began to try and find the way to screw it in again. at first he put the wrong end of the handle into the hole and turned it round and round, always the _right way for screwing_. then he tried the other end, still always turning only the right way. how he knew the way the screw should turn is a mystery. the work was a hard one, for he had to use both hands on the handle, and the brush, with its bristles, would not lie still. next he tried holding it with his foot, and even then it was not easy to get the first turn of the screw to take hold. when this was done he turned the handle round and round until it was fully screwed in. the strange thing was that, in all his efforts, he never tried to turn the handle the wrong way; he always screwed from right to left. the work done, he unscrewed it and screwed it in again, this time more easily. he kept on until he could do it without trouble and then threw it aside for some other amusement. here is a case where the animal tried for himself a thing he had never seen done, not for anything to be gained, but simply to find out how to do it. he knew somehow the right from the wrong way, and when he had finished he had no further use for the brush. he had learned that lesson, solved that riddle, and was ready to try something else. anecdotes of the ape while men like to have the monkey for a pet, the monkey imitates them by having pets of its own. it has a fancy for this and likes to have something or some animal under its care. it may be a doll, a guinea pig, a white rat, or anything to which it takes a fancy. this was the case with a monkey we are told of, which was very fond of nursing. his fancy in this way brought him to a sad end. seeing a litter of young pigs, he grew eager to have one of these for a pet. watching till the mother pig was at the other end of the pen he popped down and seized one of the little grunters. with his prize he leaped to the door of the pig-stye, but it gave way under his weight and he fell back into the jaws of the furious sow, who with one crunch put an end to the pet-lover's career. here is another story told by the same party: "a female baboon which i brought up in my family got hold of a kitten with the intention of making a pet of it and mothering it, but was scratched by the scared fondling. the monkey then made a close study of the kitten's paws, pressed the claws forward, looked at them from above, from beneath, and from the side, and then bit them off to save itself from further scratches." this love of pets on one occasion led to a serious scene. it was in the case of a large baboon kept on a ship on which was a lady passenger with a baby. not noticing that the baboon had its eye on the little one, the mother laid it down on a bench to look at something which the captain wanted to show her. in a moment the big monkey had the child in its arms and was running for the rigging, hastened by the mother's scream on seeing the fate of her little one. clasping the baby with one arm, the nimble creature ran up to the mast head with the aid of the other, and when the sailors started after it ran to the head of the top mast. by this time the poor mother was being carried to the cabin in a dead faint. what to do the captain did not know. he called the sailors down, fearing that if they chased the brute it might throw the child into the sea. but when it saw that they had given up the pursuit it set itself to quiet the screaming child, fondling and talking to it in a very motherly way. the baby by this time was in a terrible state, and the captain, at his wits' end, at length ordered everybody on deck to go below, thinking the monkey might come down if the coast were clear. the plan proved a good one. on seeing that there was no one on deck, the animal descended with its prize and laid it on the bench from which it had been taken. it was soon in its mother's arms and the pet-loving baboon found itself locked up as a punishment for its trick. monkeys are often kept on ship board and they are not to be trusted if there is anything they can steal. there were two of them on a british naval ship in the west indies, a big and a little one, both great favorites. dressed in uniform, they would march up and down the deck, salute the captain, and imitate the movements of the officer of the watch. but both were thieves, the big one stealing, the little one hiding, and they needed watching. one day the captain's gold snuff-box was missing. it was known that the monkeys had stolen it, for both of them were taken with a severe fit of sneezing. but no one could find it, until the little one was seen peeping into a middy's chest. searching this, the box was found below the clothing. another theft was made while the ship was at anchor in kingston harbor, jamaica. this time it was a bottle of wine, which the big one emptied without leaving a drop for his pal, who sat and looked at him as if he had been very badly treated. in a few minutes the big thief was reeling about the deck very drunk. he jumped on the bulwarks, and seeing a shark swimming around the ship began a great jabbering and at last jumped overboard, perhaps with some idea of making a pet of the big fish. one snap of the huge jaws and the drunken monkey was no more. the little one saw this with screams of agony. he could not be consoled for the loss of his mate, and the next day he, too, jumped overboard and was soon in the same place as his dead friend. feeling and friendliness in the monkey what has been said above goes to show that the monkey can think and that it comes next to man in doing its own thinking. it goes to school, no doubt, as boys and girls go to school, but it teaches itself also, as may be seen in the story of the monkey and the brush-handle. but the monkey can not only think, it can also feel, and when we tell of some of its shows of feeling it almost seems as if we were talking about people like ourselves. here is a story that has been often told, but is worth telling again. a man in india had shot a female monkey and carried it to his tent. a crowd of friends of the dead animal, forty or fifty of them, soon gathered round the tent, making a great noise and acting as if they were about to make an attack on the sportsman. only when he came out gun in hand did they run away, as if they well knew the powers of that dreadful weapon. but the leader of the band stood his ground, chattering away in monkey language. when he found that his fury and his threats did no good, he came to the tent door and began to moan in a sorrowful manner and to make signs as if to beg for the dead body. when it was given to him he took it in his arms and carried it away to his waiting friends. all those who saw this sad scene vowed that they would never again fire at one of the monkey race. this interesting story is only one among many. one of them has to do with an instance where the horses of a party of travellers were frightened by monkeys in the trees, some of the horses breaking loose. to stop this one of the party fired at the monkeys with a load of small shot to drive them away. one of the monkeys ran down to the lowest branch of the tree, then stopped, put his paw to the part wounded, and held it out covered with blood for the man to see. the sportsman says: "i was so much hurt at the time that it left an impression never to be effaced and i have never since fired a gun at any of the tribe." a few minutes later a native came in and said that the monkey was dead. they told him to bring it in, but when he went back he found that the other monkeys had carried off their dead comrade and none of them were to be seen. here is a case of the same kind, told by sir william hoste, an officer in india. it is of a still more affecting kind. we give it as told by a mr. jesse. "one of his officers, coming home after a long day's shooting, saw a female monkey running along the rocks, with her young one in her arms. he immediately fired and the animal fell. on his coming up, she grasped her little one close to her breast, and with her other hand pointed to the wound which the ball had made, and which had entered above her breast. dipping her finger in the blood, and then holding it up, she seemed to reproach him with being the cause of her death, and in consequence that of the young one, to which she frequently pointed." when sir william was told this affecting story he, as in the other cases cited, resolved never to shoot one of these animals as long as he lived. is not all this very human-like? the poor things, knowing that men are stronger than they and carry death-dealing weapons, do all they can to make them sorry for their cruelty and accuse them of murder. if they could talk they could not say more than these monkeys did in dumb show. monkeys are very fond of and tender to their young. one writer saw an american monkey driving away the flies that troubled her infant, and another saw a mother monkey washing the faces of her young ones in a stream. when their young die the mothers are very apt to die of grief. this we are told by darwin, who further says: "orphan monkeys are always adopted and carefully guarded by the other monkeys, both male and female." [illustration: an afternoon chat. observe the close attention of the monkey and its care of its young] they also take care of those that are hurt. one writer tells us that he kept a number of gibbons in his garden, living in the trees and coming down to be fed. one of them fell from a tree and sadly hurt its wrist. the others at once paid it great attention, and an old female, who was no relation to the crippled animal, fed it every day before eating any food herself. the writer goes on to say: "i have frequently noticed that a cry of fright, pain, or distress from one would bring all the others at once to the complainer, and they would then condole with him and fold him in their arms." captain hugh crow, in his "narrative of my life," tells a story of this kind which goes to show how tender the monkeys are to one another. on board his ship were a number of monkeys, of different kinds and sizes, among them a beautiful little one, only about ten inches long and no larger in body than a common drinking glass. it was a playful little thing and a great favorite with the other monkeys, who looked on it as the pet of the family, treating it with a kindly feeling which they did not often show for one another. it became sick at length, of a disease that prevailed in the ship, and then their kindness and tenderness were doubled. he says: "it was truly affecting and interesting to see with what anxiety and tenderness they tended and nursed the little creature. a struggle often ensued among them for priority in these offices of affection, and some would steal one thing and some another which they would carry to it untasted, however tempting it might be to their own palates. then they would take it up gently in their fore-paws, hug it to their breasts, and cry over it as a fond mother would over her suffering child. "the little creature seemed sensible of their kind attention, but it was sadly overcome by sickness. it would sometimes come to me and look me pitifully in the face and moan and cry like an infant, as if it besought me to give it relief; and we did everything we could think of to restore it to health; but in spite of the united attention of its kindred tribes and ourselves the interesting little creature did not survive long." sir james malcolm tells us of two monkeys on shipboard, one older and larger than the other. they were not related, but merely friends, but were very fond of each other. one day the small monkey fell overboard. the older one was in a great excitement. it ran to the part of the ship which is called "the bend," held on to the side of the vessel with one hand, and dropped down to the other the end of a cord with which it had been tied up and which was fastened round its waist. every one looked on with surprise at this display of monkey wit, but the cord was too short and the little one swept by. it is pleasant, however, to be able to say that it was saved by a sailor, who threw it a longer rope, which it seized and was drawn on board. the monkey becomes as fond of its human friends as it is of those of its own race. often it does not like certain people, and has its own way of showing this, but there are others whom it seems to love warmly. this faculty does not belong only to monkeys, but may be seen in dogs and other animals. but it is often strongly shown by the monkey. darwin tells of a keeper in the london zoölogical garden, who one day was attacked by a savage baboon. in the cage was a little american monkey, a great friend of the keeper, but very much afraid of the great baboon. but when the poor little thing saw its friend in peril it sprang at once to the rescue and by screams and bites so distracted the baboon that the keeper was able to escape. the little monkey quite forgot its fear of the fierce beast when it saw its friend in danger. we rarely think what depth of feeling such an animal as the monkey may have. there are cases in which none of ourselves could show greater feeling. here is a case in point. on board a war-vessel that was going to persia was a pet monkey of the captain, a gentle, kindly little creature that was made much of by every one on the ship. but like all of its kind it was not free from love of mischief. there was a goat kept on board to supply milk for the use of a government official on the ship. one morning it was found that the monkey had tied the goat to the tackle of a gun and milked it into the stiff hat of a marine. the little culprit was caught in the act and taken to the captain, who to punish it gave orders that no one on board should take notice of it for a week. the loving little thing did not know what to make of this. it went about from friend to friend, looking up to them wistfully, but not getting a word or a kind look from any of them. it put on its most coaxing airs, but all in vain. for two days it bore this, but on the morning of the third, finding that it was still in disgrace, its tender heart was quite broken. it sprang on the bulwarks, put its hands over its head, gave one pitiful cry and leaped into the sea. it was seen no more. to be fond of mischief and of playing jokes is a common trait in monkeys as it is in boys. this likeness is shown by the tricks of boys being called "monkey tricks." perhaps they would not play them if they knew that they were putting themselves on the level of the monkey. stories of this tendency are common enough. here is one told of a young chimpanzee who bore the familiar name of tommy, and who lived in a cage in the zoölogical garden of london. master tommy did not at all approve of tricks that were played upon himself, though he was very fond of playing them on others. thus one day when a carpenter had to enter his cage to make some changes the little joker was in his element. he played all kinds of tricks on the workman, such as pulling his hair, snatching off his paper cap, stealing his tools, and even trying to trip him up. all the time he put on an air of innocence and only came up when he thought he was not seen. the moment the joke was played he retreated to the other end of the cage, where he seemed very much interested in something else. in the end, when the carpenter had his back to him, master tommy could not resist the temptation, but sprang on the man's shoulders and gave him such a sound box on the ears that the keeper, who had been enjoying the fun, had to interfere and make the little rascal behave himself. on another occasion tommy in some way got a small dog into his cage, and had the time of his life with the little victim. he pulled its ears and tail till the dog lost its temper and began to show its teeth. at this master tommy pretended to be very indignant, and lifted his hand in a threatening way, as if to chastise doggie for his impudence. he would do the same with children if he got a chance, pulling their hair or clothes or scratching them. in fact, he was a little imp of mischief, yet had been taught to be very neat and nice in his habits, to pick his teeth, clean his nails, and do other acts supposed to belong to the human race. like man also he could walk erect, jump on his hind feet and dance in the stamping fashion of a child a few years old, though with greater force. we must close our stories of monkey wit and wisdom with one that comes from south africa, of a monkey that acted as signal man on a railroad. this is the story, as told in _chambers' journal_. "we had a remarkably intelligent baboon here a few years ago. he was a giant of his species. his master and trainer had the misfortune to have both his legs cut off in a railway accident, and on his leaving the hospital the cape government gave him a berth as signal man. he taught this baboon not only to work the signals, but to place the wheels of a little trolley on the line, and then the bed on the wheels. his master would then seat himself on the trolley and jocko would push him along to his house, about two hundred yards down the line. he would then detach the pieces of the trolley and clear them off the line. he would also lock the door of the signal-box and take the key to his master." [illustration] viii other animals used as pets we have now gone far and near among the animals kept by man, have seen them at work and at play, on farm and on road, in doors and out of doors, some helping him, some amusing him, some supplying him with food and clothes. but so far we have kept among the animals of common use. there are others not so often kept and at some of these we must take a passing glance before we finish our journey. man, you know, is only one among many thousands of kinds of animals which dwell upon the earth. these are found everywhere, from the hot equator almost to the frozen poles. the most of them, of course, live in warm regions, but away up in the seas of ice may be seen creatures clad in thick wool and fur and finding food under the snows. so there is hardly any part of the earth without its living beings. some of these animals are so savage that man rarely tries to tame them. the fierce lion and tiger, the ferocious grizzly bear, the huge and stupid rhinoceros, and many others of the same wild sort are shown us at times in menageries. but we look at them through the iron bars of their cages. if any of them should get out of the cage we would hasten to get out of the show. even these fierce animals at times grow tame enough for men and women to go into their cages and teach them some simple tricks. but they are never safe to deal with, and we are always glad to see the tamers of lions and other wild beasts come out of the cages alive. it is not such creatures as these that man makes use of. he has picked out those of gentle nature, the grass eaters, not the flesh eaters. the dog and cat, it is true, are flesh eaters, but the dog is an animal that is easily tamed and becomes one of man's best friends. as for the cat, it rarely becomes quite tame. its wildwood ways cling to it still. animals fitted for man's use are found in all parts of the earth, but the tame ones mostly came from europe and asia, the countries in which civilization first began. here are the native places of the horse and the cow, the sheep, goat and pig, the hen, duck and goose, and nearly all the other animals found about our homes. there is no continent with a greater variety of animals than africa, but few of these have been tamed, and this mostly in the civilized north, for the people of that continent have long been in a savage or barbarian state, and have been hunters instead of tamers of animals. it has been the same in america. when white men came here they brought their home animals with them and there was no need to tame those found in this new continent. the only ones tamed by the indians were the dog and the peruvian llama, and nearly the only one added by the white man has been the turkey. the rest of our animals, like our forefathers themselves, came from abroad. though we have dealt with the chief animals kept by man, for use or as pets, there are many others which have been at times tamed and made into friends and comrades, and it may be well to speak of such of these as seem of most interest. men and women have a natural love for pets and sometimes pick out very odd ones. you know what the flea is--or if you do not know it is all the better, for the flea's way of making itself known is by biting. yet even these small pests have been taught to do things, such as being harnessed to little carriages, which they drag about in a way to please those who are near enough to see them. a strong little insect is the flea. it can leap, we are told, two hundred times its length, while few of us can jump twice our length. and it can pull a heavy weight for a creature of its size. but it is not tamed nor taught. it is simply tied fast and pulls to get loose, and in this way draws its carriage. so to talk about learned fleas is to talk nonsense and most of us would be satisfied if there were no such thing as a flea. there are other insects which man has at times taken under his care, the ant, for instance, and some others. but these also are not tamed, they are simply studied and made use of in various ways. when we talk of taming animals we must come to those of a higher order, such as the birds and the four-footed creatures. we speak at times of the fish being tamed, but this is only from its losing its fear of man and taking food from his hands. it has not brain power enough for much more than this. yet man at times makes a pet of the fish, which he keeps in the little table pond called the aquarium as he keeps his bird pets in the cage, and of these fish pets a few words may be said. pets of the aquarium the aquarium is a very pretty piece of furniture for the lovers of animal life, for a variety of water-living things can be kept in it alike for study and pleasure. plants are needed of various kinds, to give beauty to the collection and keep the water in a fit state for the fish, for animal life and plant life need to go together. the plant gives off oxygen for the fish to breathe. there are a number of other small animals kept in the aquarium, such as the tadpole, the water-beetle and several kinds of fresh-water snails. but it is the fish that gives life and action to the parlor pond. swimming in its little lake, now up, now down, darting nimbly about, with its bright scales glistening in the sun, it is always a pretty and attractive object. [illustration: from d. m. smith's japanese gold fish the fantail. the japanese have had wonderful success in changing the form of the gold fish] a favorite among all cage-fish, if i may so call the pets of the aquarium, is the gold fish, with its bright golden scales, flashing as it darts about. this fish is of chinese origin and belongs to the carp family. it is apt to vary, not only in color but in its fins and tail, the fins being sometimes double and the tails at times triple. some of them change till they look very odd, and have long, wide, lace-like tails, strange but pretty. some of the gold fish lose their color and grow white and are then known as silver fish. the common carp is not as handsome as its cousin, the gold fish, and is apt to grow too large for the aquarium. those who choose to keep it may have it all their lives and leave it to those who follow, for it is said to live from one hundred to two hundred years. there are many other fish well fitted for the aquarium, such as the gudgeon, the roach, the tench, and the perch. but the perch can be kept only while young and small, as it is a fish eater and has an appetite that will soon leave it few of the other fish for company. one must not forget the minnow among the dwellers in the glass house. this little, lively fellow is well fitted to live in close quarters and no fish does better in the home fish-pond. it is a pretty little thing, with olive back and silvery belly, which sometimes becomes bright red. after a little time the minnow will grow very bold and tame enough to come to the edge of the tank at the sound of a familiar voice and take its morsel of food from between the thumb and finger. among the fish kept in the aquarium must be named the stickleback, the nest-builder of the fish tribe. this little fish resembles the bird in building a nest, laying its eggs in it, and watching them with great care until they are hatched out. the stickleback is a pretty little fellow, but, like the perch, not safe to keep among other small fish, as he has the bad habit of feeding on them, so that he soon has the aquarium to himself. dr. lankaster says of him: "he has all the ways of other fishes and many others besides. look into your tank; see, there is one larger than the rest; he is clothed in a coat of mail like a knight of old, and it is resplendent with purple and gold. he is a male fish and the king of your little shoal. he has important offices to perform. in the course of a few days, if you watch him and are fortunate, you will see this wonderful little fish engaged, in the most useful manner, in building a nest. "he seizes hold of one little bit of weed, then of another, and carries them all to some safe corner, till at last his nest is built. having done this, he gently allures his mate to their new-made home. here she deposits her eggs, and having done this resigns the care of them to our hero of the purple and gold, who watches over them with an anxiety that no male in creation but the male stickleback seems to know. he fans and freshens the water with his fins, and at last, when the young are hatched, watches over their attempts at swimming with the greatest anxiety." snake charmers from the fish let us turn to the snake, a gliding creature without limbs and without joints. it is much like one of the fishes, the eel, in shape, but not in anything else, while no other animal is so much feared and hated by man. we hate this creeping reptile from the fact that a few species of snakes carry a deadly poison in their teeth, and the strongest of men, bitten by one of these, has often only a few minutes to live. it is this that makes man a bitter foe of the snake and quick to kill any one he sees, whether it has a poisoned tooth or not. he fears it and hates it and has made up his mind that he and the snake are not fit to live together on the same earth. this is not fair to the snakes, for only a few of them are poison bearers. most of them are as harmless as rabbits and can be handled as safely. but the cry of "a snake" is almost as bad as the cry of "a mad dog," and even so gentle a little thing as the garter snake has usually a short lease of life if seen by man or boy. not quite everybody has this foolish fear of all snakes, the good and the bad alike, for there are some who make pets of them. and snakes thus petted become very tame and grow fond of those who take care of them. this is the case even with the huge python and the boa-constrictor, the greatest of all snakes. they are not poisonous, but when they wind their body in strong coils around an animal, even one of good size, they can soon crush the life out of it. many stories might be given of tame snakes and it may be well to quote one of these as told by mr. romanes in his "animal intelligence." he had it from mr. severn, an artist, who tells of a call he made on a mr. and mrs. mann, two snake-lovers who were much blamed by their neighbors for keeping these crawling creatures. when mr. severn called he was asked by mr. mann if he was afraid of snakes. he said, in a timid way, "no, not very," and his host took out of a cupboard a large boa-constrictor, a python, and a number of small snakes, which at once made themselves at home on the writing table among pens, ink and books. mr. severn's eyes opened very wide when he saw the two big snakes looking at him with their bright eyes and thrusting out their forked tongues, and they opened wider still when he saw the great serpents coil round and round the body of his friend. but when he found that they were very tame and would do no harm he lost his sense of fright. after some time mr. mann went out to call his wife, leaving the boa on an arm chair. the other snakes were put away. the visitor now began to feel rather queer, the more so when he saw the great serpent creeping slowly towards him. he was glad enough when mr. and mrs. mann came in, bringing their two children. the lady and the children went at once to the boa, called it by loving names, and let it twine itself around them. we give the rest in mr. severn's own words: "i sat talking for a long time, lost in wonder at the picture before me. two beautiful little girls with their charming mother sat before me with a boa-constrictor (as thick round as a small tree) twining playfully round the lady's waist and neck and forming a kind of turban round her head, expecting to be petted and made much of like a kitten. the children over and over again took its head in their hands and kissed its mouth, pushing aside its forked tongue in doing so. "the animal seemed much pleased, but kept turning its head towards me with a curious gaze, until i allowed it to nestle its head for a moment up my sleeve. nothing could be prettier than to see this splendid serpent coiled all around mrs. mann while she moved about the room and when she stood to pour out our coffee. he seemed to adjust his weight so nicely, and every coil with its beautiful marking was relieved by the black velvet dress of the lady.... the snakes seemed very obedient, and remained in the cupboard when told to do so. "about a year ago mr. and mrs. mann were away for six weeks and left the boa in charge of a keeper at the zoo. the poor reptile moped, slept, and refused to be comforted, but when his master and mistress appeared he sprang upon them with delight, coiling himself around them, and showing every symptom of intense delight." is not this a pretty story of snake taming! others might be told, for these animals, like others, learn to know and love those who care for them and treat them well. would you like to know something more about these great snakes? many stories are told of them, but the trouble is that these are not all true. thus we are told of pythons forty feet long and able to kill and swallow a goat or antelope, horns and all. the fact is, that they are never seen more than twenty feet long, usually little more than ten. and though they can kill a goat or antelope, they cannot swallow any animal larger than a small dog. the python and the boa-constrictor are much alike, but they do not live in the same countries, the python dwelling in the old world and the boa in the new world. they lurk near water, hiding in the bushes or in the trees, where they are ready to seize small animals that come to drink. these they slowly swallow. winding their tails around the limb of a tree, they can hang down and seize any animal passing beneath. but it was not these big snakes, but the doings of the snake charmers, i set out to talk about and to this i must return. we hear of snakes being charmed as we hear of forty foot pythons, but the fact is that there seems to be no charming of the snake at all. when the snake goes through what is called "dancing" one would suppose it had been trained. we know that this is not the case from the fact that the moment a snake has been captured a snake-charmer is able to make it "dance." [illustration: reproduced by permission of the philadelphia museum hindu snake charmers with the deadly cobras] what is called the snake dance is a natural habit of the cobra, which raises its head and one-third of its body above the ground and sways about in the air while the charmer is playing on his pipe. the cobra has poor sight and poor hearing and certainly no ear for music. what it lifts itself in this way for is a chance to strike its enemy. it can strike only with the part of its body that is lifted up and this the charmer knows and can easily keep out of reach. the cobra is a very deadly serpent. it kills thousands of persons every year in india with its fatal bite. yet it can be tamed and taught to make itself at home. it can even be made to take the part of a house dog. at any rate major skinner, an english officer in india, tells us this snake tale: "in one family near negombo cobras are kept as protectors in the place of dogs, by a wealthy man who has always large sums of money in his house, and this is not a solitary case of the kind.... the snakes glide about the house, a terror to the thieves, but never attempting to harm the inmates." so it seems that even the deadly cobra is not as black as it is painted, but can be tamed and made a friend of by man. when the snake-charmer wants a new snake he plays on his pipe near places in which serpents are apt to hide, and the cobra and other snakes come out and are caught. sometimes the poison fangs are drawn out of the snake's jaws, but often they are not, the charmers knowing how to avoid being bitten. if bitten, they know how to take care of a bite. here is a story told by a mr. reyne, who tried to learn the truth about the snake charmers. he made one of these men go with him into the jungle, after finding that he had no snakes hidden under his clothes. as these hindus wear very little clothing, this was easy to do. in the jungle was a tall ant-hill in which mr. reyne knew that a large cobra made its home. here the man played his pipe, and soon the cobra came gliding out, as if charmed by the music. mr. reyne goes on to say: "on seeing the man it tried to escape, but he caught it by the tail and kept swinging it around until we reached the bungalow. he then made it dance, but before long it bit him above the knee. he at once bandaged the leg above the bite and applied a snake-stone to the wound to draw out the poison. he was in great pain for a few minutes but after that it gradually went away, the stone falling off just before he was relieved." thus it may be seen that a snake can be made to dance the instant it is caught and before it can have any lessons in dancing. the dancing is only a movement made by the serpent when it is alarmed and rises to defend itself. as for the taming of snakes, it is not very hard to do. the snakes must get used to the sight of man by seeing them often, as when kept in a cage where people pass or stop to look in. and when thus used to see man, they may be handled freely at all times except just after a meal. but those who handle them must be careful not to touch their necks or tails, for these are tender parts of the snake. thus treated, they soon grow tame. of course, some are much more savage than others, and any one who wants to own a tame snake had better leave the poisonous kinds alone. the mongoose and other small animals as i have now told the story of the snake, it is well to give a little time to one of the snake's chief enemies, the little weasel-like animal known in egypt as the ichneumon and in india as the mongoose. larger than a cat, but with a long, slender body, and very quick in its movements, the ichneumon is death to snakes. i cannot say that it is proof against the snake's bite, but it jumps about in so lively a way that the snake gets no chance to bite it, and when it once gets its teeth in the snake's hide it soon puts an end to his career. this little animal is also death to crocodiles. but you must not think that it deals with the crocodile as it does with the snake. the fact is that it is very fond of the crocodile's eggs, and by digging these out of the sand and eating them it is of much use in cutting down the crocodile crop. it is easily tamed and becomes a house pet, doing much to keep the house free from rats and mice. its worst fault is that it loves poultry and is hard to keep out of the chicken coop. the ichneumon has a pretty fashion of squatting down and eating out of its fore-paws like a squirrel. when it sleeps it coils up into a round ball, with its head and tail under its belly. [illustration: the mongoose. the deadly foe of snakes and rats] the mongoose is a little smaller than the ichneumon, but it is like it in other ways. not many years ago some of these animals were brought to the island of jamaica, where rats in the sugar-cane fields were giving the planters a great deal of trouble by gnawing the cane. for a time all went well. the mongoose went for the rats and soon these gnawers grew very few. the planters thought they had done a good thing in the way of saving their sugar-cane. in time the mongoose was to be seen everywhere and hardly any rats were left. then the hungry little strangers had to look for food elsewhere and found it in the poultry-yard. the chickens began to follow the rats. nowadays the planters look on the mongoose as a worse pest even than the rat and would like very much to get rid of their late friend, who makes it very hard to keep chickens and any kind of poultry. they would be glad to find some animal that would serve the mongoose as the mongoose served the rat. a very tamable little creature is the mongoose, and a very active one also, for it is never still for a minute except when asleep. it is not always hungry, like some other tame animals, but soon gets enough food. but when it does want something to eat it wants it badly and will walk around on its hind legs in man-like fashion after its keeper, and climb up his body till he gives it the food and drink it needs. the mongoose always wants to know. he must have his nose in everything he sees. he is all the time looking for something new. he would make a good scholar if sent to school. we are told of one that had his doll, his pet rabbit, his toy monkey, all stuffed, and these he played with till the stuffing all came out. if they were stuffed again he would go back to his play. one day he was given a japanese paper snake and he went for that snake as if it was a live one. first he bit it in two. then he bit the halves into quarters. before he let the snake go there was not a piece left big enough for a bite. the little chap knew somehow that he was a born snake killer. when he could find nothing else to do he would climb into the window and view with delight all that went on outside, the cat, the dog, the horse, the milkman, everything. a game of tennis would hold him quiet for hours, for he was fond of ball play himself and very good at it. when he could find nothing to do or to see he would wander about like a lost lamb, and as a last resort would coil up in his master's lap and go to sleep. he had no fancy for being locked up in a cage, as had to be done at times, and he let people know this. if a friend of his came into the room where he was caged he would begin to cry like a cat, his voice growing loud and shrill if no notice was taken of him. in a minute more he would be flying around the cage in a fury, tearing up his bedding and flinging it to all quarters. if this had no effect his voice would sink into a wail of despair which it was hard to resist. but the instant he was taken out all his rage and grief were at an end. he would cuddle up in his master's arms, lay his head lovingly on his cheek and coo and crow away in deep delight. leaving the mongoose, we may take a look in upon some other four-footed creatures that make good pets. among these are such as the chameleon, the odd lizard that has the power to take on a new color whenever it gets tired of the old one; the armadillo, which wears a coat of mail and can roll itself up into a ball that no teeth can bite into; the hedgehog, another little creature that rolls up into a ball with sharp spines sticking out on all sides; the porcupine, that does the same thing and has much longer spines; in fact, almost all kinds of small animals, even those we call house vermin, the rat and the mouse. we might fancy that pet-lovers would draw a line at rats and mice, but these have often been tamed, at least the white rat and mouse, which some people like for their color. the rat makes a better pet than the mouse, for it is very quick-witted, while the mouse is apt to be dull. among animal stories there is one we are told about a white rat that seems worth telling. the owner of this rat found it to be clean, loving and very lively. like all rats it had the habit of laying up a store of food for future use, and when it found a supply would never stop till it had carried it all away. it was funny to watch it. if a plate of biscuits was put upon the table with no one near by, it would carry them away, one at a time, till not a biscuit was left. they would all be taken to its nesting place, across the room, and laid away for future use. if it got hold of a hunk of bread too heavy to carry up to its elevated nest, this did not stop its work. it would sit on the floor and gnaw the bread into small bits, carrying those up one at a time. it was fond of warming itself before a coal fire, and seemed to take the fancy that coal was a good thing to have, for it carried it off a piece at a time till it had a store of this hard stuff a foot wide and five or six inches deep. very likely many of you have read about how rats will carry off eggs, even taking them down stairs without an egg being broken. it takes two rats to do this, one passing the egg down to the other on the step below. they have even been seen to take eggs up stairs. one rat catches the egg between its fore-paws and its head, and gets up on its hind legs, passing it up to the other, who catches it in its fore-paws. then they go up another step and keep at this till the top is reached. they are very fond of oil, and when they find bottles of oil have a cute way of their own to get it. first gnawing off the cover, the rat sticks its tail down into the oil, pulls it up well covered, and licks off the oil. sometimes they take turns, each handing down its tail for another rat to lick. you may see from this that the rat is a very wide-awake little nuisance. the tame rat we have been speaking of died in good time and a hedgehog became his master's next pet. have you ever seen a hedgehog? some of you have, no doubt; but for those who have not i would say that it is a little creature that lives in a hole in the ground or in trees or rocks and comes out at night to feed on mice, frogs, insects and such like prey. the hedgehog is about a foot long and six inches high, with small black eyes and sharp-pointed head. the odd thing about it is the fact that where most animals are covered with hair this one is covered with spines, hard and sharp, like little thorns. these grow to be about an inch long and there are muscles in the back that cause them to stand up and stick out in all directions. [illustration: the common hedgehog with his battery of spines] when a dog gets busy about a hedgehog, it does not try to run away. all it does is to roll itself up into a ball, its head and tail meeting over its lower parts and its spines sticking up all around. when the dog gets these into his nose a few times he is apt to lose his taste for hedgehog meat. he may roll the animal about with his paws, but that does no good, and he soon goes away with sore head and paws, leaving the hedgehog to unroll and make its way back to its burrow. when taken home and fed it soon becomes very tame and friendly. it can be handled with safety, for when it is not rolled up its spines lie flat along its back, so that its friends can stroke its back and scratch its nose without harm. these it likes to have done. when it is put on a table it does not a bit mind taking a dive to the floor, for it rolls up so to fall on its spines and thus is not hurt. a tame hedgehog is a good thing to keep in a garden or kitchen, for it helps to clear the one of worms and the other of roaches and sometimes will catch and kill a rat. it is not afraid to attack snakes, even poisonous ones like the viper. the poison does not seem to do it any harm. i have spoken of the armadillo as a pet and as an animal that rolls itself into a ball like the hedgehog. instead of spines, it has a covering of hard, bony plates, which cover the whole body, even the tail. when it rolls itself up it is like a hard stone and can laugh within its coat of mail at the enemies which roll it about but cannot get in. the armadillo is an american animal, and is found in our country in the state of texas. it goes south from there through mexico and on to south america, where it is found everywhere. it lives in large numbers in the woods and on the great grass plains. in its food and habits it is much like the hedgehog, and like it burrows in the ground. to do this it has very strong claws, and these it can use to defend itself when it takes a fancy to fight. the same person who kept the white rat i have spoken of also had a pet armadillo, though the two were not very good friends. the armadillo was very quick in its motions and the first time it saw the rat it went for it like a lightning flash. the rat was one of the kind of vermin it fed on in its natural state and it thought here was a good chance for a feast. in a minute it had the rat driven into a corner where there was no hole or hiding place and where it stood up as if praying with its paws in the air. in a minute more the armadillo would have made mince meat of the rat with its sharp claws, but its master just then came to the rescue, and saved his pet rat. [illustration: the three-banded armadillo. an animal in a coat of mail] in the end he punished the armadillo by making a little wagon in which he made it draw the rat about as a passenger. his armadillo, he tells us, was a famous sleeper, lying asleep about twenty-three hours out of the twenty-four. but in its wakeful hour it was very active and lively. it loved to lie before the fire, but if turned over on its back and scratched it grew furious. it could not turn itself back again much easier than a turtle. the one thing that threw it into a panic was a sudden noise. if, for instance, the poker was thrown down, the scared animal would make a bee-line for its home, and if it missed the mark would tumble around in a fright till it found the entrance to its cage. when it got used to the noise of the poker any other noise would set it off in the same way, and it never got over its panic at a strange and sudden noise. so many kinds of animals have been tamed at times that i cannot speak of them all. but i must not forget our familiar little friend, the squirrel, one of the prettiest and liveliest of tree-dwellers. to see him seated, with bushy tail curled up over his back, and gnawing away at a nut held between his fore-paws, is to see one of nature's most charming sights. and he is a tameable little creature, easy to keep and to feed, and very pleasing in his ways. there are many kinds of squirrels, but all of them may be tamed. they need a cage of good size, and a usual feature of the cage is a revolving wheel or cylinder of zinc wire, a sort of tread-mill in which the active little fellow may take all the exercise he wants, making it spin round at a great speed. he needs a snug little ante-room, to which he may retire when tired of his wheel. any kind of nut will be welcome as food, and even a stale crust of bread or a bit of boiled potato, all of which he will gnaw in his funny way. [illustration: a friendly gray squirrel] many stories of tame squirrels could be told. here is one which we owe to a captain brown. i give it both for its neatness and its odd ending. it is of a tame squirrel that used to run up its master's leg and pop into his pocket whenever it saw him getting ready to go out. as he went through the streets it would keep in his pocket, sticking its head out in a saucy way to took at people passing. as soon as the outskirts of the town were reached and trees and bushes became common, out of the pocket it would pop, down the leg it would scramble, and up the trees it would climb, nibbling away at the bark and leaves. if its master started on, down it would come and climb back to his pocket. if a cart or carriage came by it would hide till they had passed, for it was timid with any one but its master. it was not a good friend with the house dog and this seems to have been bunny's fault, for he had a fashion of his own of teasing the dog. if it lay down and went off into a snooze, down would come the squirrel, scamper over its body, and dart off to its cage again before the dog had time to growl or snap. this squirrel--or it may have been another squirrel which had the same fancy of hiding in its master's pocket--had one night an adventure in which it served its master as well as any watch-dog could have done. the gentleman who kept it used, when he came home at night, to hang his coat behind one of the downstairs doors. this made a neat sleeping place for the squirrel, who would climb up to the pocket, taking some tow with him for bedding. one night, after the family and the squirrel alike had gone to bed, a burglar made his way into the house and began to peer around for plunder. seeing the coat hanging on the door, he began with that, putting his hand into the pocket. in an instant he drew it out again with a cry of pain. he had got a sudden bite from the squirrel's sharp teeth. at the noise the man of the house sprang up, seized a poker and ran down stairs. he was in time to capture the burglar, who was just climbing out of the window. hawking or falconry perhaps you have read enough about tame animals of the four-footed kind. at any rate it will be well to turn now to the two-footed kind, the birds, and talk about a kind of sport in which birds have been used for many centuries. nowadays, when one of us goes hunting, we take our shot-gun or rifle, with the dog for companion, and bring down the game with a bullet or load of shot. but long ago, before the gun was known, there was another way of catching game, and of this i wish to speak. it is called hawking or falconry, and is a very old sport in which the falcon or the hawk was used to take game. it is still in use in some countries, but in old times falconry was the favorite sport of kings and nobles, many of whom spent much of their time in the field, hunting smaller or weaker birds by aid of the strong and swift falcon or hawk. this kind of sport began very long ago, no one can say how long, it being common in asia long before it was known in europe. and it is common in some parts of asia still. [illustration: a hooded peregrine falcon. its eyes are covered by the hood until the game is in sight] bishop stanley says: "about two thousand years ago ancient writers speak of hawking as a common sport. people used to go out into the marshy grounds and beat among the reeds and bushes for small birds, and as these flew away hawks were let loose in pursuit, and when the game fell to the ground, either through fright or struck by the hawks, men ran up and secured them. "in china it is a favorite sport with some of the mandarins to hawk for butterflies and other large insects with birds trained for that particular pastime. in india the goshawk and two other species are taught to keep hovering over the hunters' heads and when deer and other game start up, they dart down and fix their claws upon its head and thus bewilder it until it is secured. a certain sultan kept a corps of seven thousand falconers." the arabians used the falcon to hunt the goat. when a rock goat was seen on a mountain the falcon would be let loose and would fly like an arrow straight for the animal, lighting on its back and fixing its talons in its throat. it held fast until the huntsman came up to the weakened animal and cut its throat, the falcon being paid for its service by drinking the blood. falconry is still common in persia and is much spoken of in the poetry and stories of the persians. one of these stories is worth telling, both from its being a very pretty one and from its being like a famous story of ancient wales. in the welsh story, which we have in a fine ballad, prince llewellyn had a faithful dog named gellert which he left in charge of his infant child. during the absence of the prince a wolf entered the house and was attacked and killed by the dog. when he came home he saw the cradle upset and blood all over the floor, and thinking that the dog had killed his child he plunged his sword into its side. a minute later he saw the child safe under the cradle and the wolf lying dead. he was sorry enough when he saw this, but all he could do was to build a monument over his faithful dog. stories like this were common in the past, with other animals than the dog and the wolf. in old persia it was the hawk and the snake. we are told of a persian king who went out hunting with his favorite falcon on his wrist. after a time a deer started up and was pursued by the falcon, and was in time brought down and killed. in chasing it, the king had left all his people in the rear and now found himself alone. he was also hot and thirsty and finding some water trickling down a mountain side, he filled his cup with it, but very slowly, as the water came down only in drops. he was about to drink it when the falcon struck the cup with its wings and spilt the water. vexed at this, the king filled the cup again and once more raised it to his lips. again the falcon flapped its wings and the water was spilled. this made the king so angry that he flung the bird to the ground and killed it on the spot. at this moment one of his attendants came up and the king, who was too thirsty to wait again until the cup was filled drop by drop, gave it to the man and told him to climb up and fill it at the spring. the man did so, but as he came down he saw a large serpent lying dead with its head in the water, into which a poisonous foam flowed from its lips. when he came down and told of what he had seen the king was deeply grieved, for he had killed the faithful bird which was seeking to save him from death or danger. coming now to later times we find that hawking made its way from asia into europe very long ago. denmark was a famous place for this sport in the far past and it was common in france and england at least as early as the th century. the kings of those countries grew very fond of it. when edward iii. of england went to fight in france he took with him thirty falconers and hunted or hawked every day, and henry viii. at one time nearly lost his life when out hawking. in recent times it has died away in great part, but is still practiced in some countries. such is the history of hawking. now a few words may be said about the practice. the birds used belong to two classes, the long-winged, dark-eyed falcons and the short-winged, yellow-eyed hawks. the falcons used are the gerfalcon, peregrine, hobby, merlin, and some others. the hawks used are the goshawk and the sparrowhawk. the falcons take their prey by rising above it in the air and darting down upon it. the hawks fly in a straight line and take it by their great speed. the taming of these birds is a slow process. it was of old the custom to fasten jesses or soft leather straps round their legs and hoods over their heads. a line fastened to the strap kept them from flying away. they were taught to rest and feed on the gloved hand of the trainer and also to make short flights to a "lure," a piece of wood on which food was placed. they were drawn back by the cord tied to the jesses. in this and other ways the birds were taught, and in time could be trusted to fly free and come back to the huntsman's hand. [illustration: leg and foot of falcon showing the method of attaching the fastening] when the hawkers went abroad on a hunt, gay was the show and lively the sport. on horseback, carrying the hawks on their wrists, the gallant company rode briskly away, all of them dressed in fine robes and the hawks also richly "dressed." the bird might have around its neck a collar of gold filagree and over its head a hood of the finest silk, with a plume of colored feathers on top. little tinkling bells, those of finest sound, hung from the leather leg rings, and the glove on which the bird sat was often spangled with gold, and sometimes adorned with jewels. while the hood was on the bird would not move, but when the hood was taken off and it saw the prey it was eager to fly. here is the story of a hawking party as late as . this party set out in the afternoon, riding towards a place frequented by herons--a large, strong bird with which only the strongest falcons could deal. there were four couples of birds, all of the kind known as peregrine falcons. each bird had a small bell on one leg and a leather hood, with pieces of red cloth in it to cover each eye. after some time a heron was seen near at hand. at once the hoods were taken from the heads of two of the falcons and as soon as they had seen the bird they were let loose. away they flew after the heron, but a crow chanced to cross their track and one of the birds started to chase this, while the other kept on. when it came near the heron it flew in circles until it was far above it and at length came pouncing down and struck its prey on the back. down came the two birds, tumbling from a high point to the ground. by this time the crow had escaped and the second falcon came flying up, just in time to see the other falcon and the heron falling. at this instant a rook flew across and the second bird struck at him, bringing him to the ground not far away from the other game. up now dashed the falconers, held out the lure, on which was a live pigeon, and secured the game while the birds were making a meal upon the pigeon. two other herons were taken by the other falcons and the day's sport closed. such was a scene of hawking in the th century. in olden times the game was often much more exciting than this. [illustration] ix wild animals in man's service you must by this time think that there is hardly any kind of animal upon the earth that man has not at some time kept as a friend or a captive. of course, we mean the larger animals, the quadrupeds, reptiles, birds, and fishes, not the vast hordes of insects and the still lower animals. of these there is only one, the honey-seeking bee, that has been made to work for man, but of the large animals many more than those spoken of have served him in some way or have been captured and caged for his pleasure. all the large cities have their zoölogical gardens, where wild beasts of many kinds are kept on show, and in villages and small towns and cities the travelling menagerie carries such wild creatures around where everyone may see them. here, in strong cages, we may look at the lordly lion, with its splendid mane, and its gaping jaws, filled with cruel teeth, and the tiger, fierce and sly, pacing round and round its narrow cage on silent feet, and at times stopping to glare with savage eyes at the lookers outside. it may have seen and made a meal on such beings in its native wilds. then there are the snarling hyena, the spotted leopard, the wild-eyed wolf, the american panther and wild-cat, the growling bear, and many others. greatest among these are the huge and savage rhinoceros, the ugly river-horse, or hippopotamus, and the noble elephant. these are only a few of the animals that are kept for show, among them many of the tameable ones, as the playful monkey, the slender deer or antelope, the large elk and moose, the wolf, raccoon, opossum, kangaroo and many others of the smaller animals. man is able to make friends of the most of these. in fact there are daring men and women who are ready to go into the cages of the fiercest of these beasts and make them go through the tricks they have been taught. they have been even found bold enough to put their heads into the lion's mouth. this is always a foolish thing to do, and sometimes it has ended in the lion's closing his great jaws and smashing the man's head as one would smash an egg-shell. with all this we are not here concerned. it is only the animals that serve us as friends and helpers that we are dealing with. but man at times makes use of certain creatures that usually are only seen in a wild state, so it is well to say something of the wild animals that at times are made to serve us in some way. the dancing bear you have seen, no doubt, the dancing bears, clumsy, ugly brutes that men lead around the country, visiting the summer resorts, and making the animals go through some awkward movements on their hind legs, which they call dancing. this is not a sign of any great sense in the bear. to get up on his hind legs is a common habit of this lumbering fellow. many hunters who have made the bear angry have found this to be the case. when it wants to fight up comes the bear on its hind feet. it is not like a prize fighter, using its fore-legs to spar with; though it can strike a blow that will hurl the strongest man to the ground. but what it tries to do is to get its fore-legs round the man and give him a hug. when a bear hugs, he means business. it is not a tender embrace, but a bone-cracker that few men can stand. the bear is an easy animal to tame. the common brown bear i mean, not the savage grizzly bear, which no one would think of trying to tame, except when young. when a bear is tamed it shows itself a docile animal that will not hurt any one who treats it well. as for the learned bears, their learning does not amount to much. it takes no special teaching to get them on their hind legs or to prance around in a clumsy fashion. yet the bear is not wanting in brain powers. it is really an animal of much intelligence and very teachable. [illustration: grizzly bear cub. the young of all animals, even of the fierce grizzly, can be tamed by kindness] it shows this in various ways. i have told you how the elephant gets hold of a piece of food by blowing back of it with his trunk, and how the monkey does the same thing by throwing his shawl over it and drawing it in. the bear has a way of his own of doing the same thing, as the following anecdote will show: it is the story of a bear at the zoo, to which some one threw a bun. the bun fell into the bear's bathing pool, out of his reach. the animal could have got it easily by going into the water, but did not just then want to wet his feet and in his wise head thought out another plan. he put his paw into the water and began stirring it up till he had a sort of current going round the pond. when one leg was tired he put in the other, moving it in the same direction, and kept this up till the bun came swimming round within reach. there are other stories of the same kind and they go to show that the bear has good thinking powers. he certainly knew that by making a current in the water he could cause the bun to float up within reach of his paws. it is not likely that this bear had ever done the thing before or seen it done, so he had to think it out for himself. there is a very interesting thing to say about wild animals which will fit in well at this point. as a rule they only want to be let alone, and if man would quit hunting them many of them would become as tame as the cows and sheep in our fields. there is much proof of this, some of it very late proof. after the yellowstone national park was set aside as a national pleasure ground orders were given that none of the wild animals of the park should be shot. you may think that these wild creatures could not find this out, but they soon did. thus we are told that the elks, the great deer of the mountains, are very alert and timid outside the park boundary, but when they have crossed this and come into the park they grow very bold and independent. they have learned that the crack of the gun which means death on one side of the border is not heard on the other, and have taken in this lesson. as for the bears, they are fearless of man when inside the park, and come up close to the hotels and other buildings as if they looked upon these as part of their lunch route. it is the same with the other wild animals. they seem to know. we hear of the same thing from east africa. no one can shoot at game within a certain distance on each side of the east african railway. that is the law and the wild beasts have come to know it. travellers on that road tell us that crowds of wild animals can be seen on both sides of the road, antelopes, zebras, ostriches, deer, and the like, looking with curious eyes as the train goes by but not trying to get away. this was not the case in the past, when people could shoot at them from the train. no one has posted up a bulletin in beast language telling that a treaty of peace had been signed between man and beast. but there stands the fact. these innocent creatures have lost all their old fear of the railway train. they seem to have told one another. this is not the case with such dangerous brutes as the lion, the leopard, the hyena and the rhinoceros. these do not come within the terms of the treaty of peace. travellers are free to shoot at them. as a result you do not see them among the animals that welcome the train. the seal and the alligator so far we have been talking of land animals, those that live, eat and breathe on solid ground. if we turn to the sea, we find it the native abode of the fish and of many animals lower than fish in nature's great family. and it is of interest to find that some land animals have gone back to the great world of waters, part of them to live there all the time, part to share their time between land and sea. among the first of these is the mighty whale, much the largest of living beings; also the porpoise, the dolphin, and other air-breathers that live in the ocean. chief among those that spend their lives in part on the land are the seals. and these are the only animals of the land-sea kind that have ever been tamed, so we must say a few words about the seal. there are many kinds of seals, some of them, like the sea-elephant of the southern seas, being very large. others are small. all are splendid swimmers, their arms and hands acting as fins or oars, with which they can make their way very swiftly through the water. the ocean is their dining hall, in which a great dish of fish is ever ready for them, but their home is on island shores, where their young are born and brought up till they are able to swim. [illustration: the harp-seal afloat on the ice] the kind of seal to be talked of here is that known as the common seal. this is the easiest to tame. it is found in the arctic seas and comes down the coasts of europe as far south as the mediterranean and the coasts of america as far south as new jersey. this little fellow, along with some other species, is very intelligent. where they are not hunted they will come very close to boats and to men on shore. they have a fondness for music and will follow a boat for miles if a flute or some other instrument is played. the ringing of the churchbell of the little town of hoy, in the orkney islands, has often brought a great many seals into the bay, drawn there by the bell tones. seals that have been taken and tamed are very gentle and docile, and will live long if they have water to bathe and swim in, and fish to eat. they like to be taken notice of and caressed, come like dogs when their names are called, and can be easily taught many little tricks, so that learned seals are often put on exhibition. when taken young and brought up in a household the seal acts as if it felt itself to be one of the family, and likes much to lie and warm itself in front of the fire. it grows very fond of those who care for it, showing a tender and loving nature. we are told of one that would follow its master about like a dog, eating from his hand and lying by his side when he sat before the kitchen fire. it would also nestle close to the dog, with which it had made friends. when anyone came into the room, up would go its head to see who the newcomer was. but it never tried to bite dog or stranger. the winter after this young seal was taken was cold and stormy, so that it was not easy to catch fish enough to feed the family and the seal. they tried giving it milk, but it took so much of this that in the end the family could not afford to keep it and decided to set it free and let it fish for itself. taking the little thing--it was very young--into a boat, they rowed out to sea, and when far enough from land tossed it overboard. but they were not going to get rid of their pet seal so easily as this. it swam after the boat, crying in so pitiful a way that they could not bear the tone and in the end took it on board again. thus it was brought back to the house and lived there several months more before it took sick and died. [illustration: the savage florida alligator] there is a story very like this of another seal that its owners tried several times to get rid of. they failed to do so, the knowing creature always finding its way back. at one time it even crept into the room through an open window and made its way up to bask by the fireside. while it is not strange that the seal can be easily tamed, we should not look for such a thing in so savage an animal as the alligator, the most feared and hated of the animals found in the waters of our southern states. yet even this ferocious reptile can be tamed, as the following story will show. the alligator in question was taken when very young, before its wild nature had shown itself, and was fed and attended to by its master, of whom it became very fond. it grew so tame that it would follow him about the house like a dog, even scrambling up and down stairs after him. but the funny thing about this comical pet was that its chief friend was the cat, and that pussy returned its friendship. when the cat lay drowsing before the fire, the alligator would crawl up, lay its head on her back, and go to sleep in this position. it seemed happy whenever the cat was near, but grew very restless if its furry friend was away. raw flesh was fed to it and sometimes milk, which it liked very much. at night, in cold weather, it slept in a box, with wool for it to nestle in. but one night there came a sharp frost and the little guest was forgotten. the next morning the native of warm climates was found frozen to death. the stork, cormorant and albatross it would take many pages to tell about all the wild animals that have at times been tamed by man or made to serve him in various ways. as it is, we must confine ourselves to a few, and have selected the three water-birds named above all of which have been of service to man in some way. the stork is not a tame bird in the sense of being kept about the household, but it has so long been taken care of and laws made to protect it, that it has grown very familiar and may be seen walking about the streets of holland, even among crowds of people, without a show of fear. no one wants it for food, for its flesh is not good, and it does so much service by eating frogs, snakes and other troublesome animals, that every one feels friendly towards it. it also struts about in the market places and keeps them clean and fresh by eating all the offal. thus it plays the part of the turkey-buzzard of our southern cities, which is taken care of for the same reason. the common stork of the old world countries is a large bird, long-legged and long-necked. it is pure white in color, except that the wings are partly black and the bill and legs are red. it sleeps standing on one leg, with the neck folded and the head turned back on the shoulders. if alarmed, as when a dog comes near, it makes a loud snapping noise with its bill. the stork spends the winter in africa and flies back in the summer to europe, where it is very common in holland and north germany. its feeding place is in the marshes, where it wades about, eating the frogs and other small animals to be found there. it is very fond of eels and will follow people about the streets who feed it on this favorite morsel. it has a way of asking for food by nodding its head, flapping its wings, and blowing the air from its lungs. [illustration: the stork in its feeding grounds] of a mild and peaceful disposition, the stork has long been much cared for and a halo of romance clings round it, coming down from ancient times. this arises from its devotion to its young, which brings it into esteem in various countries. it builds its nest on the roofs or chimneys of houses or the steeples of churches, the nest being a bunch of sticks, reeds and other debris. in the ruined cities of asia a stork's nest may be seen on the top of nearly every standing pillar. in holland and many other parts of europe it is common to put a box on the roof for the stork, and when the inmates find that a stork has built in their box they are glad, for they think it will bring good luck to the family. when a new baby comes to the household, children are told that the stork has brought it out of the well, and thus the young grow to like the stork. four or five eggs are laid in the stork's nest, of white color tinged with buff, and the birds are apt to come back to the same nest year after year. the stork not only shows great fondness for its young, but is also thought to take much care of its aged parents. whether this is true or not, it adds to the affection people have for this bird. when the summer is over and it is time to fly south, the birds gather in large flocks as if to talk the matter over. the stork, indeed, has no voice, but it makes a great clatter with its bill. the meeting over, the flock flies off for the far-away tropics, the birds rising very high and making a loud rushing noise with their wings. they are gone, to be seen no more until the next summer is at hand. now let us take up the story of the cormorant, one of the web-footed swimming and fishing birds, of which so many kinds dwell about the waters of the world. they belong to the same family as the pelicans, but while the pelican has a great net, or fish basket, under its lower bill, the cormorant has only a small one, not big enough to hold many fish. [illustration: the cormorant, the fishing bird of china] the cormorants are great fish-eaters, so much so that it is common to call any large eater a cormorant. there are many species, some small, some large, living on the shores of islands and in some cases along rivers. the way in which this bird is of service to man is in its being tamed and trained to catch fish for him. this used to be done in england and is still done in china. how it is done may be told in a few words. the bird is easily tamed by the chinese fishermen and is trained by them for its new duty. while being trained a string is tied to its leg so as to control its movements. then small fish are thrown out and it springs after them. in time it learns to go into the water when a whistle is given and to come back when it hears a different whistle. after three or four weeks of this training the bird is ready for duty and no longer needs a string to hold it. the birds become in time as docile as dogs and obey every order of their masters. when put regularly to work a small ring of hemp is tied around their throats, so that they cannot swallow large fish. when the fisherman rows out into the water the birds sit quietly on the side of the boat until they get his orders. then into the water they dash and usually come up with a fish, which they bring to him. if one comes up with a fish too large to handle, another bird, sometimes several birds, will come to his aid and help him to land the prize. sometimes one of them takes a lazy fit and swims about the water, paying no heed to business. then the fisherman shouts at the idle bird and strikes the water with his oar, keeping this up till it dives for prey. at the end of the day's work the ring on the bird's neck is loosened or taken off and some of the fish are given it or it is allowed to fish for itself. like the stork, the cormorant is very fond of eels, and when one of them comes up with an eel there is often a fight between two or three of them for the prize. there is another bird on our list, the albatross. it has never been tamed and cannot be said to be of service to man. at least i can name only one instance. in this case the bird is said to have been used to carry a message from shipwrecked sailors, telling where they could be found and asking for help. i cannot say whether this story is true or not, but it leads us to say something about this famous bird of the waves. [illustration: the albatross swooping over the ocean waves] the albatross is a wonderful flyer. it is the largest of the web-footed birds, being four feet long and with a wing spread of from ten to seventeen feet. it seems to float or glide on the air rather than fly, hardly moving its long wings except when rising from the water. it often follows ships for a long time; day after day, some people say, but this is doubtful. no ship can outsail it and it is said to be able to fly as much as eight hundred miles in a day. sailors often fish for it with a baited hook, but find it hard to haul in, as it often draws out the hook or breaks the line. but a bait of blubber is very attractive and in a few minutes the same bird will take the hook again. only by catching a fish in some such way as this could a message tied to its legs by shipwrecked sailors be found. sailors have long had a superstition about shooting the albatross, fearing that it would bring ill luck to the ship and its crew. all who can do so would do well to read coleridge's famous poem of the "ancient mariner," in which the men who "shot the albatross" brought terrible misfortune to the ship and all on board. the honey-giving bee there is only one other animal of which i shall speak as a servant or aid of man, this time an insect, the well-known hive bee, which every one of you must have seen, and like enough many of you may have felt, for this little fellow has a very "hot foot." the bee cannot be called a _tame_ animal. although it lives with man and under his care, it does not know this but fancies that it is working for itself alone. and the honey which man gets from it is laid up by the busy bee for its own use. it has no notion of working for man, but is robbed by him of its sweet stores. among all the wild animals that are of service to man this little humming insect stands first. nimble, active, always at work, always singing over its work, the happiest of the working class, it keeps itself busy through all the season of flowers in gathering honey from their cups and carrying it to store away in its neat cells of wax. it is a winter store of food it is laying up. by good fortune the bees are able to collect more than they need for their own use, so their keepers can take part of it and still leave the little workers enough to live on the winter through. the bee has been working in this way for man during long ages. go far back in time and you will find writers telling about the bees and their ways. the greek and roman writers tell us much about them,--some of it fancy, some of it fact,--and within later times these useful insects have been much studied and written about. i do not propose to tell the story of the bee, for it is much too long a one to be given in this place. all i need speak of here is the service it renders to man. there are many varieties of bees but only one, the hive bee, is of interest to us in this story, for it is the only one that works for us. what we do for the bee is to supply it a home to live in, a cage or hive in which it may dwell, take care of its young, and lay up a store of its sweet food. how all this is done is very interesting. there is nothing in nature more neatly built than the waxen comb of the bee, and no prettier dish for our tables than a comb full of the golden honey. and there is nothing which most of us like better to eat. so it is the comb of the bee that i shall speak of here, rather than the bee itself. [illustration: an opened bee hive showing the clustering bees] the bee goes abroad for honey, but the wax which it uses for the comb is formed in its own body. it comes out from a sort of wax-pocket in the lower part of the body, is scraped up by the legs and carried to the mouth. here it is well chewed and then laid on the floor for the use of the comb-builders. from this wax the bees build a series of six-sided cells, laid side by side, some of them to hold honey, others as cradles for the young. they are fastened to the walls and hang downward. it is well to say here that there is only one egg-layer in the hive. this is called the queen bee. the others are workers and drones. the workers store up food, the drones (the male bees) do nothing but eat it. this the workers let them do while the summer lasts and food is plenty, but they do not let them spend the winter in the hive, eating the food which they have not helped to gather. when the summer season is over they drive the drones from the hive and sting them to death. is there a lesson for us in this habit of the bees? they have no room in the hives for those who do no work, and kill them on the spot rather than let them starve or freeze. while we could not do a thing like this, it might be well if everybody was made to work for the food they eat, as the bees do. now let us come back to the waxen cells, built so neatly and packed into the hive so closely that no man could do it better. some of these, as i have said, are cradles for the young; some are store-houses for food. the queen bee is a wonderful egg layer. for every egg laid by the hen she will lay several hundred, each in a cell of its own. from the egg comes a little maggot, which feeds on the honey and pollen given it till it swells into a fat little worm. then it builds around itself a cocoon of fine silk, in which it lies hid while it is going through the process of changing from a worm into a bee. in the end it comes out a winged insect, ready to take its part in the business of the hive. egg-laying is the work of the queen; food gathering is that of the workers. as soon as warm weather comes and blossoms open on bushes and trees, the bees may be seen at work, visiting flower after flower and sucking up by aid of the tongue the sweet juice to be found in so many flower cups. this is partly used for food, but much of it is stored in the honey bag of the bee to be carried to the hive and laid away in the honey cells. as the season goes on new plants bear blossoms, so that all through the blossom season the busy bees find plenty of their sweet food. another thing they collect is the pollen of the flowers. this clings to the hairs of the body while they are at work in the blossoms, and is cleaned off by the jaws and feet, a little honey being mixed with it. in this way little pellets are formed which are used as food for the young. on this rich food the little ones soon grow fat. another thing gathered by the bee is a sticky substance called _propolis_. it is used as a cement, to varnish the combs and stop up all holes. the bees carry this home on their legs and the workers in the hive clean it off and use it while it is soft to cover up all weak spots. i have said that the wax is formed in the body of the bee. the same may be said of the poison. this flows into the sting, and by its aid the bee is able to defend itself, not only against its natural enemies, but against artificial ones, like meddlesome boys. but the sting is barbed, so that the bee often fails to draw it back after using it. thus the sting is pulled from the body and the bee dies from the wound. for long ages men have kept bees, making hives for them. every season new swarms come from the old hives and are brought in various ways to start fresh colonies in new ones. hives have been made of many things, often of straw, which was long used in england. to get the honey from these the bees were first killed by the fumes of sulphur. it seems a cruel thing to kill them in order to rob them, and it is not now done. in our country the straw hive has never been used. the hives now in use have frames on which combs may be built and filled with honey and then drawn out, leaving the lower combs for the bees' own use. there is a process by which the honey can be drawn from the combs without breaking them in any way, so that they may be filled again by the bees. as in this case they do not have to make new combs the active insects can soon fill the old ones again. little more remains to be said. there are certain flowers which yield honey of fine flavor, such as those of the heather, the white clover, the buckwheat, the rosemary and the orange-flower. in ancient times the most famous honey was that of mount hybla in sicily and mount hymettus in greece. in our own days the countries in which bee-farming is carried on most largely are the united states and canada, and of this country, southern california is the paradise of the beekeeper. on some bee farms are from two thousand to three thousand hives and it is said that as much as seven hundred pounds of honey have been taken from one hive. thus this little buzzing insect is one of the most active and able of the animals that help to feed and serve us, and with the busy bee we may close our list of man's animal friends and helpers. index [illustration] a albatross, the, , alderney cattle, alligator, the, ; story of a tame one, alpaca, the, , anecdotes of the dog, - ; of the cat, - ; of the horse, - ; of the mule, ; of the elephant, - ; of the pig, ; of song-birds, , ; of the parrot, - ; of the raven, , ; of the jackdaw, - ; of the crow, , ; of the starling, - ; of the monkey, , , , , , , , - ; of snakes, ; of the squirrel, - ; of the bear, ; of the seal, , angora cat, the, angora goat, the, angora rabbit, animals of the household, - ; of the earth, - ; of the aquarium, animals, varied uses of, apes, man-like, - aquarium, pets of the, arab horse, the, , - arabia, falconry in, arabian camel, , armadillo, the, , ; as a pet, , ass, the wild, - astrakhan fur, aylesbury duck, ayrshire cows, b bactrian camel, , bantam fowls, bear, the, ; intelligence of, ; in yellowstone park, bee, the, ; habits of, ; combs and honey, ; cell building, ; labors of, ; hives and swarming, ; the honey harvest, beef, american, big-horn sheep, bird of juno, ; bird of venus, birds, trick, , bison, the, blackbird, the english, ; anecdotes of, , boa-constrictor, the, - brahma fowls, buffalo, the, ; as a worker, - ; habits of, - bulbul, the, bull, the, bull-fighting, - bullfinch, the, ; anecdote of, burro, the, butter, ; making of, c cage-birds, , camel, the, ; its fitness for desert life, , ; as a worker, ; intellect of, ; uses of, canary, the, ; habits of, ; song of, ; breeds of, carabao, the, , caribou, the, , carrier pigeon, the, - cashmere goat, the, cat, habits of the, , , ; ancient, ; treatment of, , ; origin of, ; cat and mouse, ; cat and dog, ; varieties of, - ; anecdotes of, - cat-bird, the, cattle, ; wild, ; colors of, ; uses of, - , ; in united states, ; in other countries, chameleon, the, chamois, the, chariot races, ancient, - cheese, , ; from sheep, ; from goat, chicken, uses of the, , chimpanzee, anecdote of the, china, hawking in, chinese pig, the, christmas goose, the, christmas turkey, the, cloven-hoofed animals, - cobra, the, ; as a house guard, ; charming of, cochin-china fowls, cock, morning call of the, , ; its fighting habits, collie, the, cormorant, the, ; fishing with, cow, the, ; uses of, ; milk-giving, , , ; in united states, creameries, crow, thefts of the, ; anecdote of, crows, the monkey and the, , d deserts of asia and africa, , dick turpin's horse, dog, man's friend, ; anecdotes of the, - ; eulogy on the, - dog wit and wisdom, dogs, ancient, ; origin of, ; kinds of, ; hunting, ; working, ; sheep, ; cur, ; watch, ; pet, - domestic animals, origin of, ; in america, donkey, the, , dove, the, dromedary, the, duck, habits of the, ; food of, ; the young, ; where kept, dutch rabbit, e egg-harvest, the world's, , elephant, the, ; taming of, ; as a worker, , ; caution of, ; mental powers of, , ; anecdotes of, - eskimo dogs, , - eulogy on the dog, senator vest's, - f falcon, the, ; legend of, ; varieties of, ; taming of, falconry, ; in ancient times, ; in asia, ; legend of, ; mediæval, ; method of, ; a modern instance, famous men, pets of, fat-tailed sheep, the, ferret, the, , fishes, aquarium, - flea, the learned, foes of animals, - foot of the horse, g game-cock, the, - ; cock-fighting, - gellert, the faithful, gerfalcon, the, giant goose, the, giant rabbit, gibbon, training of the, goat, the, ; its climbing habits, ; where kept, ; grazing habits of, ; its mental powers, ; its uses, - ; hunt of, goat-skins, uses of, gold-fish, the, goose, food of the, ; egg-laying of, ; strength of, ; anecdote of, ; uses of, goshawk, the, great dane, the, grosbeak, the virginia nightingale, guinea-fowl, the, ; its habits, guinea-pig, the, h hawk, the, ; kinds of, ; taming of, hawking, - hedgehog, the, , , ; as a house pet, hen, vocal powers of the, hermit-thrush, holstein cows, home comrades, - hoof, the horse's, horse, the, - ; anecdotes of the, - horseback riding, horse-breaking, horse tamer, the, , horses of the steppes, , ; of persia, arabia and russia, ; of western europe, ; of america, ; anecdotes of, - hounds, varieties of, hunting horses, i ibex, the, j jackal, the, jackdaw, talking powers of the, ; anecdotes of, - k kangaroo, the, l lapland reindeer, the, llama, the, - m magpie, talking powers of the, malay cat, the, manx cat, the, mastiff, the, mavis, the, merino sheep, the, milk, , , minnow, the, missel-thrush, the, mocking-bird, the, ; imitative powers of, , mohair wool, mongoose, the, ; in jamaica, ; as a house pet, , monkey, organ-grinder and, ; as a pet, ; fondness of, for mischief, , ; revengeful spirit of, - ; powers of imitation, ; anecdotes of, , , - ; intelligence of, , ; varieties of, ; self-teaching of, - ; feeling and friendliness of, mule, the, , , n newfoundland dog, the, night, noises of the, nightingale, the, o orang-outang, intelligence of the, organ-grinder's monkey, the, ostrich, the, ; farms of, ; feathers of, otter, the, , ox, the, p parrot, the, ; intelligence of, ; talking powers, ; anecdotes of, - peacock, the, , ; habits of, peary and his dogs, - pekin duck, the, peregrine falcons, , persian cat, the, philippine cock-fight, a, pig, character of the, - ; food of the, ; how kept, ; flesh of, ; uses of, ; mental powers of, pigeon, the, ; bird of venus, ; nest building of, ; habits of, ; kinds of, - plymouth rock fowls, ponies, shetland, ; scandinavian, ; greek, poodles, the, porcupine, the, pork as food, ; fondness of the romans for, ; where now eaten, ; american yield of, pouter pigeon, the, prairie dog, the, pug, the, python, the, , , q quagga, the, r rabbit, the, - ; varieties of, ; care of, race-courses, racing horse, the, - ram, fighting powers of the, rat, the jamaican, ; as a pet, , ; egg and oil stealing, ; armadillo attack on, raven, talking powers of the, ; anecdote of, reindeer, the, - rouen ducks, the, s seal, the, ; taming of, ; anecdotes of, , sheep, the, , ; uses of, , - ; habits of, , ; where kept, , sheep dog, the, shepherd's dog, story of the, shetland pony, the, single-hoofed animals, - skylark, the, snake-charmer, the, , snake-dance, the, snakes, ; poisonous kinds, ; taming of, , ; charming of, - song-thrush, the, southdown sheep, the, spain, bull-fights in, - spaniel, the, sparrowhawk, the, squirrel, the, ; anecdotes of, - starling, whistling and talking powers of the, ; anecdote of the, - st. bernard dog, the, stickleback, the, , stork, the, ; habits of, ; nest building of, ; popular affection for, swan, beauty of the, ; varieties of, ; american species of, ; habits of, ; eggs and nests of, ; anecdote of, t terriers, , trotting-horse, the, tumbler pigeon, the, turkey, species of the, ; its habits, ; where kept, ; a christmas dainty, ; in france, turnspit, the, w war-horse, the, - weasel, the, white rat, a tame, , , wild animals in captivity, , ; treaty of peace with, wild-hog, the, , wild-horse, the, wild-turkey, habits of the, wolf, the, wood-thrush, the, wool, origin and use of, ; shearing of, ; uses of, , working-horse, the, - wyandotte fowls, y yak, the, yellowstone park, wild animals in, z zebra, the, zebu, the, transcriber's note: spelling and punctuation errors have been silently corrected. [frontispiece: king george iii.] fragments of two centuries. glimpses of country life when george iii. was king. illustrated. with an appendix showing the rise and fall of the rural population in parishes in the royston district, in herts., cambs., and essex, from to . by alfred kingston. royston: warren brothers. . preface. though the town of royston is frequently mentioned in the following pages, it was no part of my task to deal with the general historical associations of the place, with its interesting background of court life under james i. these belong strictly to local history, and the references to the town and neighbourhood of royston simply arise from the accidental association with the district of the materials which have come most readily to my hand in glancing back at the life of rural england in the time of the georges. indeed, it may be claimed, i think, that although, by reason of being drawn chiefly from local sources, these "fragments" have received a local habitation and a name, yet they refer to a state of things which was common to all the neighbouring counties, and for the most part, may be taken to stand for the whole of rural england at the time. for the rest, these glimpses of our old country life are now submitted to the indulgent consideration of the reader, who will, i hope, take a lenient view of any shortcomings in the manner of presenting them. there remains for me only the pleasing duty of acknowledging many instances of courteous assistance received, without which it would have been impossible to have carried out my task. to the proprietors of the _cambridge chronicle_ and the _hertsfordshire mercury_ for access to the files of those old established papers; to the authorities of the cambridge university library; to the rev. j. g. hale, rector of therfield, and the rev. f. l. fisher, vicar of barkway, for access to their interesting old parish papers; to mr. h. j. thurnall for access to interesting ms. reminiscences by the late mr. henry thurnall; to the rev. j. harrison, vicar of royston; to mr. thos. shell and mr. james smith, for access to royston parish papers--to all of these and to others my warmest thanks are due. all the many persons who have kindly furnished me with personal recollections it would be impossible here to name, but mention must be made of mr. henry fordham, mr. hale wortham, mr. frederick n. fordham, and especially of the late mr. james richardson and mr. james jacklin, whose interesting chats over bygone times are now very pleasant recollections. a.k. contents. chapter i. page introduction.--"the good old times" . . . . . . . . . . . . chapter ii. getting on wheels.--old coaches, roads and highwaymen.--the romance of the road . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . chapter iii. social and public life.--wrestling and cock-fighting.--an eighteenth century debating club . . . . . . . . . . . . . . chapter iv. the parochial parliament and the old poor-law . . . . . . . chapter v. dogberry "on duty" . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . chapter vi. the dark night of the eighteenth century.--the shadow of napoleon . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . chapter vii. domestic life and the tax-gatherer.--the doctor and the body-snatcher . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . chapter viii. old pains and penalties.--from the stocks to the gallows . . chapter ix. old manners and customs.--soldiers, elections and voters.--"statties," magic and spells . . . . . . . . . . . chapter x. trade, agriculture and market ordinaries . . . . . . . . . . chapter xi. royston in - .--its surroundings, its streets, and its people . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . chapter xii. public worship and education.--morals and music . . . . . . chapter xiii. sports and pastimes.--cricket, hunting, racing, and prize-fighting.--the butcher and the baronet, and other champions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . chapter xiv. old coaching days.--stage wagons and stage coaches . . . . . chapter xv. new wine and old bottles.--a parochial revolution.--the old poor-house and the new "bastille" . . . . . . . . . . . . . chapter xvi. when the policeman came.--when the railway came.--curious and memorable events . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . chapter xvii. then and now.--conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . errata--page , lines and , for _dr. monsey_, read _dr. mowse_. [transcriber's note: these changes have been incorporated into this e-book.] list of illustrations. page portrait of king george iii. . . . . . . . . . . . . _frontispiece_ old stage wagon, a.d. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . the "fox and hounds," barley, herts. . . . . . . . . . . . . . lady in reign of george iii. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . old jockey house--king james' stables--near royston . . . . . staircase into royston cave . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . illustration of a portion of the interior of royston cave . . dogberry "on duty" . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . napoleon buonaparte . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . tinder-box, flint, steel, and matches . . . . . . . . . . . . a lady of the period . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . the old parish stocks at meldreth . . . . . . . . . . . . . . reading the news . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . the hunt breakfast . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . third-class to london . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . a cambridge election party . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . triumphal arch at buntingford .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . triumphal arch at royston . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . wimpole mansion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . { } fragments of two centuries. chapter i. introduction.--"the good old times." the jubilee monarch, king george iii., and his last name-sake, had succeeded so much that was unsettled in the previous hundred years, that the last half of the th century was a period almost of comparative quiet in home affairs. abroad were stirring events in abundance in which england played its part, for the century gives, at a rough calculation, years of war to years of peace, while the reign of george iii. had years of war and years of peace--the longest period of peace being years, and of war years ( - ). but in all these stirring events, there was, in the greater part of the reign, at least, and notwithstanding some murmurings, the appearance of a solidity in the constitution which has somehow settled down into the tradition of "the good old times." a cynic might have described the constitution as resting upon empty bottles and blunder-busses, for was it not the great "three-bottle period" of the british aristocracy? and as for the masses, the only national sentiment in common was that of military glory earned by british heroes in foreign wars. in more domestic affairs, it was a long hum-drum grind in settled grooves--deep ruts in fact--from which there seemed no escape. yet it was a period in which great forces had their birth--forces which were destined to exercise the widest influence upon our national, social, and even domestic affairs. adam smith's great work on the causes of the wealth of nations planted a life-germ of progressive thought which was to direct men's minds into what, strange as it may seem, was almost a new field of research, viz., the relation of cause and effect, and was commercially almost as much a new birth and the opening of a flood gate of activity, as was that of the printing press at the close of the middle ages; and, this once set in motion, a good many other things seemed destined to follow. what a host of things which now seem a necessary part of our daily lives were then in a chrysalis state! but the bandages were visibly cracking in all directions. literature was beginning those { } desperate efforts to emerge from the miseries of grub street, to go in future direct to the public for its patrons and its market, and to bring into quiet old country towns like royston at least a newspaper occasionally. in the political world burke was writing his "thoughts on the present discontents," and francis, or somebody else, the "letters of junius." things were, in fact, showing signs of commencing to move, though slowly, in the direction of that track along which affairs have sometimes in these latter days moved with an ill-considered haste which savours almost as much of what is called political expediency as of the public good. have nations, like individuals, an intuitive sense or presentiment of something to come? if they have, then there has been perhaps no period in our history when that faculty was more keenly alive than towards the close of the last century. from the beginning of the french revolution to the advent of the victorian era constitutes what may be called the great transition period in our domestic, social, and economic life and customs. indeed, so far as the great mass of the people were concerned, it was really the dawn of social life in england; and, as the darkest hour is often just before the dawn, so were the earlier years of the above period to the people of these realms. before the people of england at the end of the th century, on the horizon which shut out the future, lay a great black bank of cloud, and our great grandfathers who gazed upon it, almost despairing whether it would ever lift, were really in the long shadows of great coming events. through the veil which was hiding the new order of things, occasionally, a sensitive far-seeing eye, here and there caught glimpses from the region beyond. the french, driven just then well-nigh to despair, caught the least glimmer of light and the whole nation was soon on fire! a few of the most highly strung minds caught the inspiration of an ideal dream of the regeneration of the world by some patent process of redistribution! all the ancient bundle of precedents, and the swaddling bands of restraints and customs in which men had been content to remain confined for thousands of years, were henceforth to be dissolved in that grandiose dream of a society in which each individual, left to follow his unrestrained will, was to be trusted to contribute to the happiness of all without that security from wrong which, often rude in its operation, had been the fundamental basis of social order for ages! the ideal was no doubt pure and noble, but unfortunately it only raised once more the old unsolved problem of the forum whether that which is theoretically right can ever be practically wrong. the french revolution did not, as a matter of fact, rest with a mere revulsion of moral forces, but as the infection descended from moral heights into the grosser elements of the national life, men soon { } began to fight for the new life with the old weapons, until france found, and others looking on saw, the beautiful dream of liberty tightening down into that hideous nightmare, and saddest of all tyrannies, the tyranny of the multitude! into the great bank of cloud which had gathered across the horizon of europe, towards the close of the th century, some of the boldest spirits of france madly rushed with the energy of despair, seeking to carve their way through to the coming light, and fought in the names of "liberty, equality and fraternity," with apparent giants and demons in the mist who turned out to be their brother men! it would be a total misapprehension of the great throbbing thought of better days to come which stirred the sluggish life of the expiring century, to assume, as we often do, that that cry of "liberty, equality, and fraternity," was merely the cry of the french, driven to desperation by the gulf between the nobility and the people. in truth, almost the whole western world was eagerly looking on at the unfolding of a great drama, and the infection of it penetrated almost into every corner of england. no glimpses even of our local life at this period would be satisfactory which did not give a passing notice to an event which literally turned the heads of many of the most gifted young men in england. upon no individual mind in these realms had that aspiration for a universal brotherhood a more potent spell than upon a youthful genius then at cambridge, with whom some notable royston men were afterwards to come in contact. that glorious dream, in which the french revolution had its birth, had burnt itself into the very soul of young wordsworth who found indeed that-- bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, but to be young was very heaven! oh! times in which the meagre, stale forbidding ways of custom, law and statute, took at once the attraction of a country in romance! in the autumn of , young wordsworth, and a fellow student left cambridge and crossed the channel to witness that glorious opening, the unlooked for dawn, that promised everlasting joy to france! the gifted singer caught the blissful intoxication and has told us-- meanwhile prophetic harps, in every grove were ringing, war shall cease. * * * * * * henceforth whate'er is wanting in yourselves in others ye shall promptly find--and all be rich by mutual and reflected wealth! { } so the poet went out to stand by the cradle of liberty, only to come back disenchanted, came back to find his republican dreams gradually giving way to a settled conservatism, and the fruit of that disappointed first-love of liberty received with unmeasured opposition from the old school in literary criticism represented by jeffrey and the _edinburgh review_, with the result that those in high places for long refused to listen to one who had the magical power of unlocking the sweet ministries of nature as no other poet of the century had. other ardent spirits had their dreams too, and for a short time at least there was a sympathy with the french, among many of the english, which left its traces in local centres like royston--quite an intellectual centre in those days--and was in striking contrast with that hatred of the french which was so soon to settle over england under the napoleonic _régime_. but, if many of the english people, weary of the increasing burdens which fell upon them, had their dreams of a good time coming, they, instead of following the mere glimmer of the will-o'-the-wisp, across the darkness of their lot, responded rather to signs of coming activities. through the darkness they saw perhaps nothing very striking, but they _felt_ occasionally the thrill of coming activities which were struggling for birth in that pregnant mother-night which seemed to be shrouding the sunset of the century--and they were saved from the immediate horrors of a revolution. feudalism and the pope had left our fathers obedience, _en masse_, and luther had planted hope through the reformation of the individual. so the great wave of aspiration after a patent scheme of universal brotherhood passed over the people of these realms with only a wetting of the spray. here and there was a weak reflection of the drama, in the calling of hard names, and the taunt of "jacobin," thrown in the teeth of those who might have sympathised with the french in the earlier stages of the revolution, was sometimes heard in the streets of royston for many years after the circumstances which called it forth had passed away. i have referred thus fully to what may seem a general rather than a local question, because the town of royston, then full of aspirations after reform, was looked upon almost as a hot-bed of what were called "dangerous principles" by those attached to the old order of things, and because it may help us to understand something of the excitement occasioned by the free expression of opinions in the public debates which took place in royston to be referred to hereafter. but though the "era of hope," in the particular example of its application in france, failed miserably and deservedly of realising the great romantic dream-world of human happiness without parchments and formularies, it had at least this distinction, that it was in a sense the birth-hour of the individual with regard to civil life, just as luther's bursting the bonds of monasticism had been the birth-hour of the { } individual in religious life. the birth, however, was a feeble one, and in this respect, and for the social and domestic drawbacks of a trying time, it is interesting to look back and see how our fathers carried what to them were often felt to be heavy burdens, and how bravely and even blithely they travelled along what to us now seems like a weary pilgrimage towards the light we now enjoy. carrying the tools of the pioneer which have ever become the hands of englishmen so well, they worked, with such means as they had, for results rather than sentiment, and, cherishing that life-germ planted by adam smith, earned, not from the lips of napoleon as is commonly supposed, but from one of the revolutionary party--bertrand barrère in the national assembly in , when the tide of feeling had been turned by events the well-known taunt--"let pitt then boast of his victory to a nation of shop-keepers." the instinct for persistent methodical plodding work which extracted this taunt, afterwards vanquished napoleon at waterloo, and enabled the english to pass what, when you come to gauge it by our present standard, was one of the darkest and most trying crises in our modern history. we who are on the light side of that great cloud which brooded over the death and birth of two centuries may possibly learn something by looking back along the pathway which our forefathers travelled, and by the condition of things and the actions of men in those trying times--learn something of the comparative advantages we now enjoy in our public, social, and domestic life, and the corresponding extent of our responsibilities. in the following sketches it is proposed to give, not a chapter of local history, as history is generally understood, but what may perhaps best be described by the title adopted--glimpses of the condition of things which prevailed in royston and its neighbourhood, in regard to the life, institutions, and character of its people, during the interesting period which is indicated at the head of this sketch--with some fragments illustrative of the general surroundings of public affairs, where the local materials may be insufficient to complete the picture. imperfect these "glimpses" must necessarily be, but with the advantage of kindly help from those whose memories carry their minds back to earlier times, and his own researches amongst such materials, both local and general, as seemed to promise useful information, the writer is not without hope that they may be of interest. the interest of the sketches will necessarily vary according to the taste of the reader from grave to gay, from lively to severe. the familiar words "when george iii. was king," would, if strictly interpreted, limit the survey to the period from to , but it may be necessary to extend these "glimpses" up to the { } commencement of the victorian era, and thus cover just that period which may be considered of too recent date to have hitherto found a place in local history, and yet too far away for many persons living to remember. nor will the sketches be confined to royston. in many respects it is hoped they may be made of equal interest to the district for many miles round. the first thing that strikes one in searching for materials for attempting such a survey, is the enormous gulf which in a few short years--almost bounded by the lifetime of the oldest individual--has been left between the old order and the new. there has been no other such transition period in all our history, and in some respects perhaps never may be again. chapter ii. getting on wheels--old coaches, roads and highwaymen--the romance of the road. it is worthy of notice how locomotion in all ages seems to have classified itself into what we now know as passenger and goods train, saloon and steerage. away back in the th century when men were only dreaming of the wonders of the good time coming, when carriages were actually to "travel without horses," the goods train was simply a long line or cavalcade of pack-horses. this was before the age of "fly waggons," distinguished for carrying goods, and sometimes passengers as well, at the giddy rate of two miles an hour under favourable circumstances! fine strapping broad-chested lincolnshire animals were these pack-horses, bearing on either side their bursting packs of merchandise to the weight of half-a-ton. twelve or fourteen in a line, they would thus travel the north road, through royston, from the north to the metropolis, to return with other wares of a smarter kind from the london market for the country people. the arrival of such caravans was the principal event which varied the life of roystonians in the last century, for was not the talbot a very caravansarai for pack-horses! this old inn, kept at the time of which i am writing by widow dixon, as the royston parish books show, then extended along the west side of the high street, from mrs. beale's corner shop to mr. abbott's. the talbot formed a rendez-vous for the pack-horses known throughout the land, and in its stables at the back of the new post office, with an entrance from melbourn street, known as the talbot back-yard, there was accommodation for about a score of these pack-horses. { } occasionally a rare sign-board at a way-side public-house bearing a picture of the pack-horse may be seen, but it is only in this way, or in some old print, that a glimpse can now be obtained of a means of locomotion which has completely passed away from our midst. but besides the pack-horses being a public institution, this was really the chief means of burden-bearing, whether in the conveyance of goods to market or of conveying friends on visits from place to place. as to the conveyance of goods, we find that as late as , even the farmers were only gradually getting on wheels. a few carts were in use, no wagons, and the bulk of the transit in many districts was by means of pack-horses; in the colliery districts, coals were carried by horses from the mines; and even manure was carried on to the land in some places on the backs of horses! trusses of hay were also occasionally met with loaded upon horses' backs, and in towns, builders' horses might be seen bending under a heavy load of brick, stone, and lime! members of parliament travelled from their constituents to london on horseback, with long over-alls, or wide riding breeches, into which their coat tails were tucked, so as to get rid of traces of mud on reaching the metropolis! commercial travellers, then called "riders," travelled with their packs of samples on each side of their horses. farmers rode from the surrounding villages to the royston market on horseback, with the good wife on a pillion behind them with the butter and eggs, &c., and a similar mode of going to church or chapel, if any distance, was used on a sunday. among the latest in this district must have been the one referred to in a note by mr. henry fordham, who says: "i remember seeing an old pillion in my father's house which was used by my mother, as i have been told, in her early married days." [mr. henry fordham's mother was a daughter of mr. william nash, a country lawyer of some note.] some months ago the writer was startled by hearing, casually dropped by an old man visiting a shop in royston, the strange remark--"my grandfather was chairman to the marquis of rockingham." the remark seemed like the first glimpse of a rare old fossil when visiting an old quarry. of the truth of it further inquiry seemed to leave little doubt, and the meaning of it was simply this: the marquis of rockingham, prime minister in the early years of george iii., would, like the rest of the _beau monde_, be carried about town in his sedan chair, by smart velvet-coated livery men ["i have a piece of his livery of green silk velvet by me now," said my informant, when further questioned about his grandfather] preceded at night by the "link boy," or someone carrying a torch to light the way through the dark streets! i have been unable to find any trace of the use of the sedan chair by any of the residents of royston, albeit that gifted but ill-fated youth, john smith, alias charles stuart, alias king charles i., did, with the { } duke of buckingham, alias thomas smith, come back to his royal father, king james i., at royston, from that romantic spanish wooing expedition and bring with him a couple of sedan chairs, instead of a spanish bride! the old stage wagons succeeding to the pack-horses, which carried goods and occasionally passengers stowed away, were a curiosity. a long-bodied wagon, with loose canvas tilt, wheels of great breadth, so as to be independent of ruts, except the very broadest; with a series of four or five iron tires or hoops round the feloes, and the whole drawn by eight or ten horses, two abreast with a driver riding on a pony with a long whip, which gave him command of the whole team! average pace about / to miles an hour, including stoppages, as taken from old time tallies, for their journeys! these ponderous wagons, with their teams of eight horses and broad wheels, were actually associated with the idea of "flying," for i find an announcement in the year , that the stamford, grantham, newark and gainsboro' wagons began "flying" on tuesday, march th, &c. twenty and thirty horses have been known to be required to extricate these lumbering wagons when they became embedded in deep ruts, in which not infrequently, the wagon had to remain all night. many a struggling, despairing scene of this kind has been witnessed at the bottom of our hills, such as that at the bottom of reed hill, before the road was raised out of the hollow; the london road, before the cutting was made through the hill; and along the baldock road by the heath, on to which wagons not infrequently turned and began those deep ruts which are still visible, and the example, which every one must regret, of driving along the heath at the present day, with no such excuse as the "fly wagons" had. [illustration: old stage wagon, a.d. .] { } bad as were the conditions of travel, however, it should be understood that for some time before regular mail coaches were introduced in (by a mr. palmer) there had been some coaching through royston. evidence of this is perhaps afforded by the old sign of the "coach and horses," in kneesworth street, royston. this old public-house is mentioned in the rate-books for royston, cambs., as far back as the beginning of the reign of george iii., or about the middle of last century, and as its old sign, probably a picture of a coach and four, hanging over the street, was a reflection of previous custom, we may take it that public coaches passed up and down our high street, occasionally, in the first half of the last century, but the palmy days of coaching were to come nearly a century after this. it is interesting to note that royston itself had a much larger share in contributing to the coaching of the last century, than it had during the present, and its interest in the traffic was not confined to the fact of its situation on two great thoroughfares. the most interesting of all the local coaching announcements for last century, is one which refers to the existence of a royston coach at a much earlier date. in the following announcement was made, which i copy _verbatim_: * * * * * * * * to the public. the old royston coach once more revived. called the telegraph. will set out on monday, nd may, and will continue to set out during the summer, every monday and friday morning at four o'clock; every tuesday, wednesday, thursday, and saturday at six o'clock, from the old crown inn, royston; arrives at the four swans inn, bishopsgate street, london, at ten and twelve o'clock. returns every day (sunday excepted) from the said inn, precisely at two o'clock, and arrives at royston at eight o'clock at night. the proprietors of this undertaking, being persons who have rose by their own merit, and being desirous of accommodating the public from royston and its environs, they request the favour of all gentlemen travellers for their support, who wish to encourage the hand of industry, when their favours will be gratefully acknowledged by their servants with thanks. john sporle, royston. thomas folkes, london, and co. fare as under:-- from royston to london, inside, l s. d. " buntingford ditto, l s. d. " puckeridge ditto, l s. d. ware and other places the same as other coaches. outsiders, and children in lap, half-price. n.b.--no parcels accounted for above five pounds, unless paid for and entered as such. * * * * * * * * { } a much earlier announcement was that in , of the st. ives and royston coach, which was announced to run with able horses from the bell and crown, holborn, at five o'clock in the morning, every monday and friday to the crown, st. ives, returning on tuesday and saturday. fare from london to royston s., st. ives s. this was performed by john lomax, of london, and james gatward, of royston, and in the following year the same proprietors extended the route to chatteris, march and wisbech. this james gatward was probably a brother of the unfortunate gatward (son of mrs. gatward, for many years landlady of the red lion inn, at royston), whose strange career and tragic end will be referred to presently. in i find a prospectus of the royston, buntingford, puckeridge and ware "machine" which set out from the hull hotel, royston, "every monday and friday at half after five o'clock, and returns from the vine inn every tuesday and thursday at half after eight o'clock, and dines at ware on the return. to begin on th of this instant, april, . performed by their most humble servant, a. windus (ware)." in occurs this announcement "the royston, buntingford, puckeridge and ware machine run from royston (bull inn) to london, by joshua ellis and co." in the same year was announced the cambridge and london diligence in hours--through ware and royston to cambridge, performed by j. roberts, of london, thomas watson, royston, and jacob brittain, of cambridge. in october, , at two o'clock in the morning, the first coach carrying the mails came through royston, and in the same month of the same year the royston coach was "removed from the old crown to the red lyon." in we learn that "the royston post coach, constructed on a most approved principle for speed and pleasure in travelling goes from royston to london in six hours, admits of only four persons inside, and sets out every morning from mr. watson's the red lion." in , w. moul and co. began with their royston coach. some of the old announcements of coach routes indicate a spirit of improvement which had set in even thus early, such as "the cambridge and yarmouth machine upon steel springs, with four able horses." it was a common name to apply to public coaches during the last century to call them "machines," and when an improved machine is announced with steel springs one can imagine the former state of things! it was a frequent practice, notwithstanding the apparent difficulty of maintaining one's perch for a long weary journey and sleeping by the road, for these old coaches to be overloaded at the top, and coachmen fined for it. in his "travels in england in ," moritz, the old german pastor, in his delightful pages, says on this point: { } "persons to whom it is not convenient to pay a full price, instead of the inside, sit on the top of the coach, without any seats or even a rail. by what means passengers thus fasten themselves securely on the roof of these vehicles, i know not." reference has been made to the condition of the roads, and the terrible straits to which the old coaches and wagons of the last century were sometimes put on this account. the system of "farming" the highways was responsible for a great deal of this. an amusing instance occurred in october, . a part of one of the high roads out of london was left in a totally neglected condition by the last lessee, excepting that some men tried to let out the water from the ruts, and when they could not do this, "these labourers employed themselves in scooping out the batter," and the plea for its neglect was that it was taken, but not yet entered upon by the person who had taken it to repair, it being some weeks before his time of entrance commenced! what was its state in november may be imagined. "when the ruts were so deep that the fore wheels of the wagons would not turn round, they placed in them fagots twelve or fourteen feet long, which were renewed as they were worn away by the traffic" (gunning's "reminiscences of cambridge," ). some of the ruts were described as being four feet deep. in young's _tours through england_ ( ) the essex roads are spoken of as having ruts of inconceivable depth, and the roads so overgrown with trees as to be impervious to the sun. some of the turnpikes were spoken of as being rocky lanes, with stones "as big as a horse, and abominable holes!" he adds that "it is a prostitution of language to call them turnpikes--ponds of liquid dirt and a scattering of loose flints, with the addition of cutting vile grips across the road under the pretence of letting water off, but without the effect, altogether render these turnpike roads as infamous a turnpike as ever were made!" if the early coaches on the main roads were in such a sorry plight, what was to be expected of traffic on the parish roads? in some villages in this district lying two or three miles off the great north road, it was not unusual for carts laden with corn for royston market to start over night to the high road so as to be ready for a fair start in the morning, in which case one man would ride on the "for'oss" (fore horse) carrying a lantern to light the way; and a sorry struggle it was! years later when a carriage was kept here and there, it was not uncommon for a dinner party to get stuck in similar difficulties, and to have to call up the horses from a neighbouring farm to pull them through! the difficulties for the older coaches and wagons were peculiarly trying in this district on account of the hills and hollows, but one of the most dreadful pieces of road at that time and for long afterwards, was { } that between chipping and buntingford, the foundations of which were often little else but fagots thrown into a quagmire! but besides bad vehicles and worse roads, there was a weird and a horrid fascination about coaching in the eighteenth century, arising from the vision of armed and well-mounted highwaymen, or of a malefactor, after execution, hanging in chains on the gibbet by the highway near the scene of his exploits! let us take one well authenticated case--the best authenticated perhaps now known in england--in which a member of a respectable family in royston turned highwayman--an amateur highwayman one would fain hope and believe--and paid the full penalty of the law, and was made to illustrate the horrible custom of those times by hanging in chains on the public highway! for this we must take the liberty of going a few years back before george iii. came to the throne. for some years before and after that time, the noted old posting house of the red lion, in the high street, royston, was kept by a mrs. gatward. this good lady, who managed the inn with credit to herself and satisfaction to her patrons, unfortunately had a son, who, while attending apparently to the posting branch of the business, could not resist the fascination of the life of the highwaymen, who no doubt visited his mother's inn under the guise of well-spoken gentlemen. probably it was in dealing with them for horses that young gatward caught the infection of their roving life, but what were the precise circumstances of his fall we can hardly know; suffice it to say that his crime was one of robbing his majesty's mails, that he was evidently tried at the cambridgeshire assizes, sentenced to death and afterwards to hang in chains on a gibbet, and according to the custom of the times, somewhere near the scene of his crime. the rest of his story is so well told by cole, the cambridgeshire antiquary, in his mss. in the british museum, that the reader will prefer to have it in his own words:-- "about - , the son of mrs. gatward, who kept the red lion, at royston, being convicted of robbing the mail, was hanged in chains on the great road. i saw him hanging in a scarlet coat; after he had hung about two or three months, it is supposed that the screw was filed which supported him, and that he fell in the first high wind after. mr. lord, of trinity, passed by as he laid on the ground, and trying to open his breast to see what state his body was in, not being offensive, but quite dry, a button of brass came off, which he preserves to this day, as he told me at the vice-chancellor's, thursday, june , . i sold this mr. gatward, just as i left college in , a pair of coach horses, which was the only time i saw him. it was a great grief to his mother, who bore a good character, and kept the inn for many years after." { } there is a tradition, at least, that mrs. gatward afterwards obtained her son's body and had it buried in the cellar of her house in the high street. the story is in the highest degree creditable to human nature, but there is no proof beyond the tradition. as to the spot where the gibbeting took place, the only clue we have is given in cole's words: "hanged in chains on the great road." there seems no road that would so well answer this description as the north road or great north road, and, as the spot must have been somewhere within a riding distance of cambridge, the incident has naturally been associated with caxton gibbet, a half-a-mile to the north of the village of caxton, where a finger-post like structure, standing on a mound by the side of the north road, still marks the spot where the original gibbet stood. it seems almost incredible that we have travelled so far within so short a time! that almost within the limits of two men's lives a state of things prevailed which permitted a corpse to be lying about by the side of the public highway, subject now to the insults, now to the pity, of the passer-by! yet many persons living remember the fire-side stories of the dreadful penalties awaiting any person who dared to interfere with the course of the law, and remove the malefactor from the gibbet! towards the end of the century the horrors of gibbeting, as illustrated in gatward's case, were tempered somewhat by a method of public execution near the spot where the crime was committed, but, apparently of sparing the victim and his friends the exposure of the body for months afterwards till a convenient "high wind" blew it down. the latest instance i have found of an execution of this kind by the highway occurred in hertfordshire, and to a hertfordshire man. this was james snook, who had formerly been a contractor in the formation of the grand junction canal, but turning his attention to the "romance of the road" was tried at the hertfordshire assizes in for robbing the tring mail. he was capitally convicted and ordered to be executed near the place where the robbery was committed. he was executed there a few days afterwards. the spot was, i am informed, on the boxmoor common, and his grave, at the same spot, is still, or was until recent years, marked by a head stone standing, solitary and alone to tell the sorry tale! situate on the york road, one of the greatest coach roads in england, with open heath on all sides, it would have been strange indeed if royston and the neighbourhood had not got mixed up with traditions of dick turpin, and that famous ride to york in which we get a flying vision as the horseman passes the boundaries of the two counties. the stories of dick turpin, regarded as an historical figure, would not quite fall within the limits assigned to these sketches, but as { } the traditions in this district which have become associated with the name of turpin, are a real reflection of a state of things which did undoubtedly prevail in this locality during the latter half of the last century, a passing reference to them will scarcely be out of place in this concluding sketch of the old locomotion and its dangers. the stories have unquestionably been handed down orally from father to son in this neighbourhood, without, i believe, having appeared in cold type hitherto. there is, for instance, the tradition of a young person connected with one of the well-known families still represented in the town, being accosted by a smart individual in a cocked hat, who insisted upon kissing her, but gave her this consolation that she would be able to say that she had been "kissed by dick turpin." among other stories associated with dick turpin, which have gained a local habitation in royston and its neighbourhood, the best known is that which clings around the old well (now closed) in the "hoops" yard in the high street and back street, though other wells have been coupled with the scene. as the story goes, turpin on one occasion played something of the part of dr. jekyl and mr. hyde, with his horses. having a sort of duplicate of black bess, he used this animal for his minor adventures in this neighbourhood, reserving black bess for real emergencies. he had been out on one of these errands, probably across the heath, leaving black bess in the stables in the hoops yard in the back street. as luck would have it he was so hotly pursued by the officers of the law, that the pattering of their horses was pretty close upon him down the street. finding himself almost at bay, with the perspiring horse to testify against him, he conceived and promptly carried out the bold expedient of backing the tell-tale horse into the well in the inn yard! he had only just accomplished this desperate feat and rushed into the house and jumped into bed, when his pursuers rode up and demanded their man. with the utmost coolness the highwayman denied having been out, and advised them to examine his mare, which they would find in the stall, and they would see that she had never been out at all that night. the party proceeded to the stables where they found, as turpin had told them, that black bess was indeed without a wet hair upon her and could not have been ridden! they were obliged to accept this evidence as establishing turpin's innocence, and he escaped the clutches of the law by the sacrifice of one of his steeds! another story, reflecting the hero's manner of tempering the demands of his profession with generosity, is that on one occasion a therfield labouring man was returning home across the wilds of royston heath, with his week's wages in his pocket, when he met with dick turpin. in answer to the demand for his money the man pleaded that it was all he had to support his wife and children. the { } highwayman's code, however, was inexorable, and the money had to be handed over, but with a promise from the highwayman that if he would meet him at a certain spot another night it should be returned to him. the man made the best of what seemed a hard bargain, but on going to the trysting place, his money was returned to him with substantial interest! upon this one may very well add the sentiment of the boy who, on finding the place in his hand for a tip suddenly occupied by one of turpin's guineas, is made to remark:--"and so that be dick turpin folks talk so much about! well, he's as civil speaking a chap as need be; blow my boots if he ain't!" of course these are only legends, but the desire to be impartial, is, i hope, perfectly consistent with a tender regard for the legendary background of history. to subject a legend or tradition to the logical process of reasoning and analysis, is like crushing a butterfly or breaking a scent bottle, and expecting still to keep the beauty of the one and the fragrance of the other. i do not, therefore, push the inquiry further than to remark that legend and tradition are generally the reflection of a certain amount of truth, and the truth in this case is that highwaymen and their practices were closely identified with this district. the case of gatward is the strongest possible proof that travelling along the great cross roads meeting at royston, was very frequently interrupted by the exploits of highwaymen possessing some at least of the accomplishments indicated by one of the characters in ainsworth's story, that it was "as necessary for a man to be a gentleman before he can turn highwayman, as for a doctor to have his diploma or an attorney his certificate." i am able to add, on the authority of the _cambridge chronicle_ for the year , the files of which are preserved in the cambridge university library, that royston heath and the road _across it_--for the heath was then on both sides of the baldock road--and especially that part of the road along what was then known as odsey heath, near the present ashwell railway station, was at that time (and also later) infested by highwaymen, whom the old _chronicle_ describes as "wearing oil-skin hoods over their faces, and well-mounted and well-spoken." intimately connected with the old locomotion, and with the exploits of highwaymen, were the landmarks, such as old mile-stones and old hostelries, the one to tell the pace of the traveller, and the other to invite a welcome halt by the way! those who have travelled much along the old turnpike road from barkway by the flint house to cambridge, must have noticed the monumental character of the mile-stones with their bold roman figures, denoting the distances. these mile-stones, an old writer says, were the first set up in england. i do not know whether this be true or not, but as the writer at the same time commented upon the system adopted { } of marking the stones with roman figures, and as the mile-stones still remaining along that road bear dates, in roman figures, between thirty and forty years before the time the above was written, they must be the identical stones he is referring to. the following particulars of these old milestones (contributed by mr. w. m. palmer, of charing cross hospital, london) are taken from the ms. collections for a history of trinity hall, cambridge. [add. mss., , brit. mus.] dr. william mowse, master of trinity hall ( ), and mr. robert hare ( ), left , pounds in trust to trinity hall, the interest of which was to mend the highways "in et circa villam nostram cantabrigiae praecipue versus barkway." on october th, , dr. wm. warren, master of trinity hall, had the first five mile-stones set up, starting from great st. mary's church. on june th, , another five stones were set up. and on june th, , five more were set up. the sixteenth mile was measured and ended at the sign of the angel, at barkway, but no stone was then set up. of these stones, the fifth, tenth, and fifteenth, were large stones, each about six feet high, and having the trinity hall arms cut on them, viz., sable, a crescent in fess ermine, with a bordure engrailed of the nd. the others were small, having simply the number of miles cut on them. between the years and , dr. warren caused all these small mile-stones to be replaced by larger ones, each bearing the college arms. the sixteenth mile-stone was set up on may th, . in addition to the trinity college arms there were placed upon the first stone the arms of dr. mowse, and on the barkway stone those of mr. hare. the crescent of the trinity hall arms may still be easily recognised on the barkway stone, and on others along the road to cambridge. bright spots in the older locomotion were the road-side inns, and if the testimony of old travellers is to be credited, the way-farer met with a degree of hospitality which made some amends for the difficulties and dangers of the road, and of course figured in the bill to a degree which gave the older boniface a comfortable subsistence such as his successors to-day would never dream of. but the most characteristic thing about these old inns was the outward sign of their presence, ever seeming to say "know ye all men by these presents," &c. at the entrance to every village the eye of the traveller would fall upon an erection having a mixed resemblance to a gibbet, a gallows, and a triumphal arch, extended across the village street, and in many villages { } he would have to pass beneath more than one of these erections, upon which were suspended the signs of the road-side inns---- where village statesmen tallied with looks profound, and news, much older than their ale, went round. [illustration: the "fox and hounds," barley, herts.] these picturesque features of our rural country life have now disappeared almost as entirely as the parish stocks. perhaps the most perfect specimen in existence, and one which could have hardly been rivalled for picturesqueness even in the old days, is that which still points the modern wayfarer to the "fox and hounds," in the village of barley, near royston, where the visitor may see reynard making his way across the beam overhead, from one side of the street to the other, into the "cover" of a sort of kennel in the thatch roof, with hounds and huntsmen in full cry behind him! this old picturesque scene was painted some time ago by mr. h. j. thurnall, and the picture exhibited in one of the scottish exhibitions, and as the canvas may out-live the structure, the artist will have preserved what was an extremely interesting feature of rural life in the last century. the illustration on the preceding page gives a good idea of this characteristic old sign, and of those of the period under review, and also of the point of view from which mr. thurnall's picture is taken, viz., from the position of a person looking down the hill towards royston. upon this question of old signs it may not be out of place to add that when george iii. was king local tradesmen in royston had their signs, and especially the watchmakers, of which the following are specimens:--in we find an announcement of william warren, watch and clock-maker at the "dial and crown," in the high street, royston, near the red lion; and again that:-- "william valentine, clock and watch-maker at the 'dial and sun,' in royston, begs leave to inform his friends that he has taken the business of the late mr. kefford" [where he had been previously employed]. these glimpses of our forefathers "getting on wheels," of the highways, their passengers, their dangers, and their welcome signs of halting places by the way, may perhaps be allowed to conclude with the following curious inscription to be seen upon an old sign on a chandler's shop in a village over the borders in suffolk, in :-- har lifs won woo cuers a goose, gud bare. bako. sole hare. the modern rendering of which would be-- here lives one who cures agues, good beer, tobacco sold here. { } chapter iii. social and public life--wrestling and cock-fighting--an eighteenth century debating club. it may be well here to take a nearer view of local life between the years and . in doing so we shall probably see two extremes of social and political life, with rather a dead level of morality and public spirit between them--at the one extreme an unreasoning attachment to, and a free and easy acquiescence in, the state of things which actually existed, with too little regard for the possibility of improving it; and at the other extreme an unreasonable ardour in debating broad principles of universal philanthropy, with too little regard for their particular application to some improvable things nearer home. between these two extremes was comfortably located the good old notion which looked for moral reforms to proclamations and the parish beadle! as approximate types of this state of things there was the old royston club at the one extreme, and the royston book club, at least in the debating period of its existence, at the other, and between these extremes there were some instructive measures of local government bearing upon public morals, of which the reader will be afforded some curious illustrations in the course of this chapter. the old royston club must have been established before , for at that time there was a list of members, but what was the common bond of fellowship, which enabled the club to figure so notably among the leading people of the neighbouring counties, we are left to infer from one or two of its rules, and the emblems by which the members were surrounded, rather than from any documentary proof. it flourished in an age of clubs, of which the fat men's club (five to a ton), the skeleton club, the hum-drum club, and the ugly club, are given by addison as types in the _spectator_. the usual form of this institution in the provinces was the county club. the royston club itself has been considered by some to have been the herts. county club, but the county clubs usually met in the county towns. mr. hale wortham has in his possession some silver labels, bearing the words "county club," said to have been handed down as part of the royston club property; but on the other hand there is the direct evidence of the contemporary account of the club given in the _gentleman's magazine_, for , describing it as the royston club, by which title it has always been known. { } it may not have been strictly speaking a political institution, and yet, according to the custom of the times, could never have assembled without a toast list pledging the institutions of the country, and the prominent men of the day. but push round the claret, come, stewards, don't spare it, with rapture you'll drink to the toast that i give! indeed, among some old papers placed at the writer's disposal, is this candid expression of opinion by an old roystonian:--"probably the members were strong partisans of the stuarts; but, whatever may have been their loyalty to the king, there is no doubt of their devotion to bacchus." if so, they reflected the custom of the times rather than the weakness of their institution which could scarcely have existed for a century, and included such a distinguished membership, without promoting much good feeling and adding to the importance of the town in this respect. the club held its meetings at the red lion--then the chief posting inn in the town--in two large rooms erected at the back of the inn at the expense of the members. in the first of these two rooms, or ante-chamber, were half-length portraits of james i. and charles i.; whole lengths of charles ii. and james ii., and of william and mary, and anne; a head of the facetious dr. savage, of clothall, "the aristippus of the age," who was one of its most famous members, and its first chaplain. in the larger room were portraits of many notable men in full wigs, and yellow, blue and pink coats of the period. one of the rules of the club was that the steward for the day had to furnish the wine, or five guineas in lieu of it; and as politics went up the wine went down, and vice versa, for, in , after a hertfordshire election had gone wrong, and damped the ardour of the club, now in its old age, the attendance of members appears to have fallen off, and the wine in the cellar had accumulated so much that no steward was chosen for three months. by september, , there remained of claret, madeira, port, and lisbon, about three pipes. there is also a reference to "venison fees," from which it appears that the gatherings were as hospitable as the list of membership was notable for distinguished names--sir edward turner, knight, and speaker of the house of commons; sir john hynde cotton, sir thomas middleton, sir peter soame, sir charles barrington, the earl of suffolk, sir thomas salisbury, of offley, and many other men of title, besides local and county family names not a few. such an institution must have given to the old town a prestige out of all proportion to what it has ever known since. a fuller account of the royston club belongs, however, to a history of royston, rather than to these sketches. { } it is more to the purpose here to note that the head-quarters of the old club remained for many years after the club itself had disappeared, a rallying point for social and festive gatherings of a brilliant kind, in which political distinctions were less prominent. for anything i know, this over-ripe institution, with its old age and cellar full of wine, may have been responsible for the following dainty _morceau_; at any-rate it is in perfect harmony with the club's traditions:-- "april, . on monday last at the red lion, at royston, there was a very brilliant and polite assembly of ladies and gentlemen, which was elegantly conducted. the company did not break up till six the next morning, and would have continued longer had not a northern star suddenly disappeared." the poetical conclusion of the paragraph just quoted implies, i suspect, a very elegant personal compliment to one of the belles of the ball, and who should the "northern star" be if not my lady hardwicke, the first lady of that name, in whose newly acquired title the royston people took a pride--or at least it must have been a lady from the mansion on the north road! [illustration: lady in reign of george iii.] what a picture the old assembly room at the red lion must have presented! ladies with gorgeous and triumphant achievements in the matter of head dresses, hair dressing, and hair powder, and frillings, such as young ladies of to-day never dream of; and gentlemen in their wigs, gold lace, silken hose, buckles, and elegant but economical pantaloons! a dazzling array of candles, artistic decorations, and kings and queens looking down from the walls! "a brilliant and polite assembly elegantly conducted." these brilliant assemblies were a common and not unfrequent feature in our old town and district life { } all through the reign of george iii., and more especially towards the close of the eighteenth century. verily, "the world went very well then," or seems to have done, at least, so far as one half of it was concerned. of the other half we may get some other glimpses hereafter. what were known during the present century as the royston races were a continuation, with more or less interruption, of the old odsey races established as far back as james i., and probably before that time. the original course for these races was along the level land by the side of the baldock road, near odsey, and as time went on the course was brought nearer the town of royston. until the later years of last century the course was just beyond king james' stables, afterwards, from the association with the course, called the jockey house. the running of the "royston" races over a course on the west end of the present heath will be referred to under the head of "sports and pastimes." [illustration: old jockey house--king james' stables.] in september, , when the odsey races were run, the principal event was the guineas subscription purse, besides minor events of guineas. that large numbers of persons attended them is evident from what is related for that year when we learn that james butler, a servant of mr. beldam, of royston, was, while engaged in keeping the horses without the ropes of the course, unfortunately thrown down, and { } run over by several horses, by which he was so miserably bruised that he expired next day; and on friday the stand, which was erected for the nobility, ladies and gentry, being overcrowded with spectators, suddenly broke down, but luckily none of the company received any damage. an old woman, however, who got underneath the stand to avoid the crowd, was so much hurt that she died. in september, , at these races we read that "never was finer sport seen," and that there was, as now, a good deal of betting connected with race meetings, seems evident from the hint that the result of the race was such that "the knowing ones were pretty deeply taken in." the old odsey races only came once a year, in september, and other sports were required to meet the popular taste. cricket had hardly taken practical shape, but representative contests did take place in the favourite pastime of cock-fighting--or "cocking" as it was always called in the last century--in which contests the hertfordshire side of the town brought its birds into the pit against those of the cambridgeshire side. of this the following is a specimen under date :-- "on monday next at the old crown, and on tuesday at the talbot inns, in royston, will be fought a main of cocks between gentlemen of cambridgeshire and hertfordshire; fourteen cocks on each side for two guineas a battle, and ten the odd. ten byes for each guinea." the red lion also had its "assemblies and cookings as usual," on the day of odsey races, from which it appears that the patrons of the races finished up with cock fights at the inns in the town. indeed it would be impossible to understand the social life of the period without taking into account the universal popularity of cock-fighting. often the stakes took the form of a fat hog or a fat ox, and the technicalities of the sport read something like this:--"no one cock to exceed the weight of pounds, ounces, when fairly brought to scale; to fight in fair repute, silver weapons, and fair main hackles." on one occasion in the year a main of cocks was fought at newmarket for , guineas a side, and guineas for each battle, when there was "a great deal of betting." another form of sport was that of throwing at cocks on shrove tuesday. badger-baiting continued in royston occasionally till the first decade of the present century, and was sometimes a popular sport at the smaller public-houses on the market hill. wrestling was emphatically the most generally practised recreation, and the charming sketches in the _spectator_ of young men wrestling on the village green was no mere picture from the realms of fancy. such scenes have been frequently witnessed on royston heath where the active swain threw his opponent for a bever hat, or coloured { } waistcoat offered by the squire, and for the smiles of his lady-love. wrestling matches were very common events between the villages of bassingbourn (a good wrestling centre), the mordens, whaddon, melbourn and meldreth, but when these events came off there was generally something else looked for besides the prize-winning. sports in to were not so refined and civil as those of to-day, and it was pretty well understood that every match would end in a general fight between the two contending villages; indeed, without this the spectators would have come home greatly disappointed, and feeling that they had been "sold." a favourite spot for such meetings was in a bassingbourn field known as the red marsh, on the left of the old north road beyond kneesworth, nearly opposite the footpath to whaddon, where the bassingbourn men--who, when a bonâ fide contest did come off, could furnish some of the most expert wrestlers in the district--frequently met those of the mordens and other villages, and many a stubborn set-to has been witnessed there by hundreds of spectators from the surrounding districts. during the whole of the last half of the th century, bowling greens did for the past what lawn tennis does for the present, always excepting that the ladies were not thought of as they are now in regard to physical recreation. there was an excellent bowling green at the "green man," smooth and level as a billiard table. earlier in the century another bowling green was situate in royston, cambs., for which daniel docwra was rated. the gentry had private bowling greens on their lawns. as to other kinds of out-door sport of a more individual kind, shooting parties were not quite so select as at the present day, and the farmers had good reason to complain of the young sportsmen from cambridge. foulmire mere, as it was sometimes called during the last century, was a favourite spot for this kind of thing. it seems that about this time the undergraduates were in the habit of freely indulging in sport to the prejudice of the farmers, for in a petition, almost ironical in its simplicity, was advertised in the _cambridge chronicle_ of that date, commencing-- "we poor farmers do most humbly beg the favour of the cambridge gunners, coursers and poachers (whether gentleman barbers or gyps of colleges), to let us get home our crops, &c." in those days, and for many years after, during the present century, there appears to have been very little of what we now know as "shooting rights," over any given lands, and the man or boy who could get behind an old flint-lock with a shooting certificate went wherever he felt inclined in pursuit of game. { } the foregoing were some of the ways in which the people of royston and the neighbourhood took the pleasures of life, how they sought to amuse themselves, and under what conditions. if the glimpses afforded seem to suggest that they allowed themselves a good deal of latitude it must not be supposed that our great grandfathers had no care whatever for public decency, or no means of defining what was allowable in public morals. in place of modern educating influences they could only trust for moral restraints to proclamations and the parish beadle. perhaps one of the best instances of this kind of machinery for raising public morals is afforded by the royston parish books, and i cannot do better than let the old chronicler speak for himself. the entries refer to the proceedings of a joint committee which practically governed the town of royston, and was elected by the parishes of royston herts. and cambs., which, as we shall see hereafter, were united for many years for the purposes of local government. "an extraordinary meeting of the committee was held on st october, , for the purpose of taking into consideration the proclamation for preventing and punishing profaneness, vice, and immorality, by order of the rev. mr. weston, present:--daniel lewer, wm. stamford, jos. beldam, wm. nash, wm. seaby, thomas watson, michael phillips, wm. butler, and robt. bunyan (chief constable). "_words of the act_--no drover, horse courier, waggoner, butcher, higlar, or their servants shall travel on a sunday. "ordered that the above be prevented so far as relates to carriages--punishments s., and for default stocks hours. "no fruit, herbs or goods of any kind shall be cried or exposed to sale on a sunday. n.b.--goods forfeited. "no shoemaker shall expose to sale upon a sunday any boots, shoes or slippers-- s, d. per pair and the value forfeited. "any persons offending against these laws are to be prosecuted, except butchers, who may sell meat till nine o'clock in the morning, at which time all barbers' shops are to be shut up and no business to be done after that time. "no person without a reasonable excuse shall be absent from some place of divine worship on a sunday-- s. to the poor. "the constables to go about the town, and particularly the cross, to see that this is complied with, and if they find any number of people assembled together, to take down their names and return them to the committee that they may be prosecuted. "no inn-keeper or alehouse-keeper shall suffer anyone to continue drinking or tippling in his house--forfeit s. and disabled for years. "ordered that the constables go to the public-houses to see that no tippling or drinking is done during divine service--and to prevent drunkenness, &c., any time of the day. { } "persons who sell by fake weights and measures in market towns, s. d. first offence; s. d. second offence; s. third, and pillory. "order'd that the constables see that the weights and measures are good and lawful." a few years after the above bye-laws were adopted the cambridge mayor and corporation were considering the same question, and issued notices warning persons against exposing to sale any article whatever or keeping open their shops after o'clock in the morning on sunday. secular life was not so low but that it had its bright spots. bands of music were not so well organized or so numerous as they are to-day, but there was much more of what may be styled chamber music in those days than is imagined. fiddles, bass viols, clarinets, bassoons, &c., were used on all public occasions, and in we find that the royston "musick club" altered its night of meeting to wednesday. that is all there is recorded of it, but it is sufficient to show us a working institution with its regular meetings. the effect of the french revolution even in remote districts in england has been referred to, and it may be added that a good deal of the "dangerous" sentiment of the times was associated with the name of paine, the "arch-traitor" as he was called, and as an instance of how these sentiments were sometimes received even in rural districts we learn that in the year paine's effigy was "drawn through the village of hinxton, attended by nearly all the inhabitants of the place singing 'god save the queen,' 'rule britannia,' &c., accompanied with a band of music. he was then hung on a gallows, shot at, and blown to pieces with gunpowder, and burnt to ashes, and the company afterwards spent the evening with every demonstration of loyalty." at such a time it was easy for even some of our local men of a reforming spirit to be misunderstood, and the name of "jacobin" was attached to very worthy persons in royston who happened to entertain a little freedom of opinion. with the waning of the old royston club, another institution had sprung up which at this time reflected the life of the place in a manner which, while it was highly creditable to the intellectual life of the townspeople, was, on the other hand, open to the suspicion of representing what were called "dangerous principles" in the estimation of those belonging to the old order. this was the royston dissenting book club, which played an important part as a centre of mental activity during the last quarter of the th and the first quarter of the th centuries. the club was an institution, the influence and usefulness of which were felt and recognised far beyond the place of its birth, and brought some notable men within the pale of its activity. it was founded on the th december, , the first meetings being held at the green man, then and for many years afterwards one of the foremost { } inns in the town. among the earliest members of the club occur the names of the rev. robert wells, joseph porter, john fordham, edward fordham, george fordham, valentine beldam, james beldam, john wylde, thomas bailey, john butler, wm. coxall, and edward rutt. while the circulation of books amongst its members was one of the primary objects of the club--for which purpose its existence has continued down to the present time--it was chiefly as an intellectual forum or debating club that it is of interest here to notice. from this point of view it fairly reflects the influential position of the dissenting body in royston towards the end of the last century, and that growing tendency to the discussion of abstract principles in national affairs which prevailed more or less from the french revolution to the reform bill, but especially during the last few years of the last century. in henry crabb robinson's diary, for the year , there occurs this reference to the great debates at the club's half-yearly meetings:-- "there had been established at royston a book club, and twice a year the members of it were invited to a tea party at the largest room the little town supplied, and a regular debate was held. in former times this debate had been honoured by no less a man than robert hall. * * to one of these meetings my brother was invited, and i as a sort of satellite to him. there was a company of forty-four gentlemen and forty-two ladies. the question discussed was--'is private affection inconsistent with universal benevolence?'" this question, it seemed, was meant to involve the merits of godwin's political justice, which was making a stir just then, and among those who took part besides the writer of this diary were benjamin flower, editor and proprietor of the _cambridge intelligencer_, and also four or five ministers of the best reputation in the place. "yet," adds the writer, then a young man but fluent speaker, "i obtained credit, and the solid benefit of the good opinion of mr. nash." among other names was that of george dyer, author of a history of cambridge, and a biography of mr. robinson, successor to robert hall, at cambridge, a biography which wordsworth pronounced to be the best in the language. at least on two occasions the celebrated robert hall, then a baptist minister at cambridge, attended the club and took a leading part in the debates. from one of the old minute books of the club [for a perusual of this book i am indebted to miss pickering, whose father's shop in john street was the depôt of the club till recent years] for the years - , i find that on two occasions the question for debate stands in the name of mr. hall, and the subjects were, on the first occasion--"does extensive knowledge of the world tend to increase or diminish our virtue?" and on the second occasion the subject was--"whether mankind are at present in a state of moral improvement." { } at the monthly debates it was the practice of the club, having debated some stated subject, to vote upon it, and enter the result in the margin of the minute book, and many of these entries are curious and instructive. against the second question standing in the name of the famous preacher, there is no such entry, but against the first, the opinion of the forum seems to have been that an extensive knowledge of the world tends to diminish our virtue, but it was only by a "majority of " that this opinion was arrived at. this old minute book throws some interesting light upon the intellectual attitude of a large number of thoughtful men upon various public questions and social problems. the majority of the entries in the book are in the handwriting of the venerable edward king fordham, the royston banker, whose long life covered more than the whole period selected for these sketches. the following resolution shows the _modus operandi_ of the institution known as the forum, which was a very general institution both in the metropolis and in many centres in the country--"it was unanimously agreed that a question or subject shall be proposed for discussion or debate, every club night, as soon after eight o'clock, as the book business is finished. the question to be proposed on a preceding meeting, and balloted for (if required by any member) before admitted in the list for discussion." then follow, through page after page of the old book, questions put down for discussion, and in most cases the opinion arrived at. among the names in which questions stand are e. k. fordham, joseph beldam, senr., wm. nash, elias fordham, james phillips, samuel bull, valentine beldam, john fordham (kelshall), john walbey, wm. wedd, robert hall, mr. crabb, mr. tate, richard flower, mr. carver, mr. jameson, mr. barfield. these were some of the men who figured in the intellectual tournaments of the time. let us glance at a few of the questions debated and the result, and we shall get some idea of the subjects which engaged men's attention, and what they thought upon them. the subjects cover a great variety of matters, and frequently were as wide apart as the poles in their nature. here are the first two questions debated:-- "whether a general enclosure will be beneficial or prejudicial to the nation?" "whether hope or fear be the most powerful incentive to action?" i venture to transcribe a few more questions at random, with the decision of the forum upon them. "whether it be right for the legislature to make laws to punish prophane swearing?--james phillips.--determined." [that is, determined that it was right.] { } "whether free inquiry is not upon the whole beneficial to society though it may be attended with some ill effects to individuals?--e. k. fordham.--determined unanimously for full inquiry." "whether a candidate for parliament ought to engage to support any particular measures in parliament previous to his election?--he ought." "whether it would be better to maintain the poor of this kingdom by charity or rate?--by charity." "whether publick or private punishments are to be preferred in a free country?--publick punishment preferred, august th, ." "whether a man can or cannot be a real christian, and at the same time a gentleman in the world's esteem?--joseph beldam, senr.--can , cannot ." "whether the art of expressing our thoughts by written characters is not superior to any other art whatever?--john walby." to the above question is given the very curious answer-- for writing, for agriculture. evidently there were some farmers of the old school in the forum! the character of the schools of the period is reflected in the following:-- "whether a public or a private education for youth is to be preferred?--unan. for a private one, in favour of virtue." "whether the use of well-composed forms, or extempore prayer in dissenting congregations be most agreeable to the dignity of religious worship, and the general edification?-- for forms, for extempore." "which is the greater evil, to educate children _above_ or _beneath_ their probable station or circumstances?-- above circumstances, below." here we get a hundred years' old opinion that in effect it is better to educate children above their probable station and let them take their chance in the competition of life than to educate them below it. this was evidently a vigorous reforming opinion for those days, considering that board schools were yet nearly a hundred years off! fifty years even before the reform bill it was possible to get such an opinion as the following upon the suffrage:-- "if we could get a reform in parliament would it be expedient or just to exclude any order of subjects from giving their vote for a representative in the house of commons?--john fordham (kelshall).--yeas , noes ." that is seven out of nine were in favour of universal suffrage! here is an instance of the logical and discriminating faculties which these forums called forth in such a high degree:-- "is good sense or good nature most productive of happiness--taking both the individual and society into the account?--good nature to individuals , good sense to ditto ; good sense to society , good nature to ditto ." { } the foregoing answer is a very nice discrimination and involved a "reasoning out" which is in striking contrast with most modern debates in which the facts can be read up from various almanacks. the meaning of it is of course that good nature between man and man and good sense in general society are most productive of happiness. the following is quoted of a different type:-- "which of the three learned professions--law, physic, or divinity--has been most useful to society?--law , physic , divinity ." this was rather hard upon the doctors, it must be confessed, but, then, society had no reason to be very grateful to a class of men who in those days dealt so largely in bleeding, blistering and purging! it would be interesting to know what sort of a vote would be given on such a question now. probably it would be found that the doctors had pulled up a bit during the last hundred years. here is another on the state and individual opinion:-- "has the state a right to take cognizance of any opinions whatever, either civil, political, or religious?--a, ; n, ." the following shows the financial insecurity of the times:-- "ought country banks to be encouraged in great britain"--a majority of more than two to one were of opinion that they ought not! this was in . there were, of course, topics of a more strictly controversial kind, bearing upon tithes, church establishment, test acts, &c., the discussion of which was natural enough to a body constituted as the royston book club was, chiefly of dissenting ministers and wealthy adherents in their congregations. i have, however, quoted enough to show that it was not merely a sectarian conventicle, but a forum for intellectual debate in its fullest sense. upon this point the following three questions may be added:-- "is there any foundation in fact for the popular belief of ghosts and apparititions [sic]?--j. phillips.--y, ; n, ." if fifteen men of education voted for the ghosts can we wonder at the stronghold they had among the common people, and that it has taken the hundred years which have elapsed to get them generally disestablished? "whether old bachelors ought to be most pitied, envied or blamed?"--no verdict, probably the bachelors were in pretty full force and resented the liberty implied by the question! "whether good sense, with a deficiency of good temper, or good temper with a deficiency of good sense, be preferable in domestic life?--w. nash.-- in favour of good sense, good temper." that the debates were often characterised by considerable freedom of thought and utterance is evident from other sources, as when the gifted young barrister of bury st. edmunds (henry crabb robinson) { } by his outspoken sentiments in one of the debates, and admitted leanings to godwin's philosophy, brought down the reproof from the great robert hall upon his friend mr. william nash, for receiving the young barrister of freedom of opinion on friendly terms into his family at royston. but the family of the quiet and eminently respectable country lawyer appear to have had no cause to regret the enduring friendship of the brilliant young conversationalist, who afterwards became an intimate friend of wordsworth, southey the laureate, and the lake school, with goethe, madame de staël, and many other great names in the world of letters and art, and even had the offer of the chancellorship of the duchy of sax weimar. at such a time, however, these debates did make a good deal of stir, in fact "as the members were credited with holding what at that time were called dangerous principles, their meetings used to cause a great excitement in the place." the peculiarity of these debates was the prevailing discussion of general principles. the region of practical politics for many of the coming questions was as yet almost half-a-century off, and having no effective means of influencing many matters which did, nevertheless, touch their daily lives very closely, they turned their attention inwards to the mental exercise of debating abstract questions of high philosophy and of morals. the book club continued its meetings at the green man from until , in which year it was "agreed to go to the red lyon," and from that time, during the remainder of the last and the earlier years of the present century, it continued to meet at the red lion, in the same room, curiously enough, which had accommodated the old royston club, and the two extremes of social and public life i have indicated, were in turn brought under the same roof! to many of the old habitués of the place under the older institution this use of their place of meeting by "traitors, republicans and levellers," as they would have called them, would have been little short of desecration, and that it was possible for two such institutions to have existed for some time at least side by side, can only be explained by the fact that one was an institution reflecting the prevailing belief of the town at that time, while the other brought together many of the county families of the old order. the only person living who ever attended one of the book club's debates, i believe, is mr. henry fordham, who can just remember attending one meeting at the red lion towards the end of the club's debating period. have we degenerated since the period of this stiff and vigorous debating of our great grandfathers? would it be possible now to bring together forty or fifty ladies and gentlemen all eager for debating questions of moral philosophy, and public justice? has the age of { } plain living and high thinking completely deserted our local life, and left us comparatively high living and plain thinking instead? the conditions of life have so greatly changed that the comparison need not be pressed home, yet these are questions which naturally arise after a glimpse at the old royston book club. that the education of that day was very exact is afforded by the announcement of mr. jeremiah slade, the keeper of a boarding school at fowlmere in , which reads:--"young gentlemen genteely boarded and instructed in the art of true and correct spelling, and of right pronunciation; reading english with a true emphasis, writing all the most useful hands with accuracy and freedom and elegance; arithmetic in all its branches in the most concise manner with its application to trade and commerce," &c., &c. chapter iv. the parochial parliament and the old poor-law. in these days, when so much is heard in favour of coming back to the parochial area as the unit of local government, it may be of interest just to glance back at the condition of things when, in the last century, the parish vestry was almost omnipotent, and controlled all sorts of things, from a pauper's outfit, or from marrying a pauper, to the maintenance of the fire engine, the repair of the church, and the wine used at the communion! the oldest materials i have found available for obtaining a glimpse of the parochial parliament at work, both in royston and neighbouring parishes, have been the royston parish books, and sundry papers and accounts which have come under my notice belonging to neighbouring parishes. it was customary for everyone attending a vestry to sign his name or make his mark, a good old custom worth continuing in every parish vestry--and it was no uncommon thing to find from a dozen to fifteen names entered. parish business was not in those days the dry affair it often is in these days of "getting together a quorum." if the truth must be told, our forefathers in the good old times had a way of preventing its being "dry," and the parish accounts i have no doubt in every village in the district as well as in royston, still record the unvarnished tale! the custom was for the clergyman to announce in church on sunday the day and hour of meeting of the vestry--generally on a monday--and also the subject which was to engage the attention { } of the vestry. monday morning came and with it the tolling of the bell to summon the vestry, but this was only the letter and not the spirit of the local parliament, which was forthwith adjourned from the church to a more convenient and also more congenial time and place, viz., at six o'clock in the evening "at the house of william cobb, at the sign of the black swan," or some other name and house as the case might lie. the general practice of holding meetings by adjournment from church seems to have been framed on the principle of giving all the publicans a turn, for in the seven years, - , the vestry meetings for royston, herts., were held at twenty-two different inns or public-houses. here is a typical entry which explains the whole system prevailing during last century:-- "ordered that this meeting be adjourned to this day month at o'clock at church, and from thence to be adjourned to some public-house to finish the business for the month, during the cold weather." in this way the tradesmen of the town, or the farmer, the blacksmith and tailor in the village, relieved from the cares of the day, assembled in the evening on the sanded floor of the old inn, and, studiously furnished by boniface with long churchwarden "clays," puffed away, until, through the curling fumes which arose from the reflecting group of statesmen, parochial projects loomed large and a little business was sometimes made to go a long way! the "licker" and the fumes inspired sage talk on mild politics, and of enhanced prices to come, some war that was talked of "in roosia or som'er out that country," mixed up with reminiscences of wars that had been, and the rare prices that had ruled in royston market! there was a blunt honesty and an entire absence of squeamishness in these public servants of the good old days, and what was considered necessary and proper on such occasions, both for their own proper dignity and "the good of the house," they did not hesitate to order, and for the benefit of posterity down went the candid acknowledgment in the parish accounts---- l s. d. paid at a vestry at rogersis for licker . . . . . . . . . . paid danl. docwra what was spent at easter monday . . . . . danl. docwra not only kept a public-house in royston, but also at this time ( ) was rated for a bowling green as well, and it is possible that the parochial hampdens and their officers, like drake and the spanish armada, prepared for work by a little play. as to the amount of "licker" necessary for the efficient control of parochial affairs i find that the villages had sometimes a different standard, for an entry in the therfield parish papers gives ten shillings as the amount spent at a town's meeting, and a similar amount was entered for barkway. strange as it may appear in these days of government auditors, { } the parish officer then debited something to the parish account at every turn of his official duty. here is one way in which they managed a parochial assessment-- "ordered that six of the principal inhabitants of royston look over all the estates in the town, and each send in his own estimated list of their ratable value to a special meeting, and from those different lists form a revised list of assessment to be afterwards stuck on the church door, allowing objections to be made, and if necessary amending assessments accordingly, first calling in the assistance of mr. jackson, of barkway, the land surveyor." the assessment was evidently a low one, for the highest amount paid for a shilling rate was s., and the lowest s. d. as to the property assessed, wool-staplers and maltsters were the principal items. a shilling rate for royston, cambs., produced about one-fourth of what it does now. the year marked a new era in the local parliament for royston, both for the improved local authority then instituted and for the unity of the town. this was brought about by what, for want of a better name, i will call the act of union, by which the divided parish of royston in herts. and cambs. was made one for local government purposes, with one vestry, one clerk, and one beadle, but with separate overseers and churchwardens. the management of the business under this act of union was placed in the hands of a committee, consisting of the churchwardens and overseers, and of eight gentlemen for the hertfordshire side, and three for cambs. the new local parliament was made up of the following:--for hertfordshire, george north, churchwarden, henry andrews (the astronomer), and wm. cockett, the two overseers; tuttle sherwood, churchwarden, and thomas moule and thomas watson, overseers for the cambs. side; and the following elected members, viz., for _herts._, john phillips, michael phillips, edward day, wm. nash, samuel coxall, thomas wortham, william stamford, junr., and thomas watson; for _cambs._, joseph beldam, william butler and john james. the above act of union was passed as an experiment, and the parliament was to be a triennial one, at the end of which period either party was at liberty to withdraw, but as a matter of fact it was formally renewed every three years and continued at least until . the first act of the new local authority was to appoint henry watson as vestry clerk at a salary of five guineas a year, to decide that no poor should be allowed out of the workhouse, only the casual poor, and also that "all meetings to be at the church at toll of bell, and adjourn as they think proper * * their expenses from the overseer at each meeting not to exceed a shilling." if this meant a shilling each member it looked like "rogersis'" bill for "licker" going up, but if for all the members together it { } was decided retrenchment as well as reform. among others who were parties to the agreement, but not in the first committee, were:--john cross, john warren, john hankin, john trudgett--what a lot of johns they had in those old days!--peter beldam, robt. leete and danl. lewer. the new local parliament had not been in existence long before it began to set its house in order for business and framed other rules for its conduct. instead of being a mere vestry with a chairman waiting for a quorum, it became an active local body, and, thanks to its methodical five-guinea clerk, actually had its meetings convened by sending out printed cards, as appears by the following entry:-- "ordered that printed cards be got from the printing office at cambridge for the purpose of calling the committee." there was no printing office in royston till the beginning of the present century. another innovation was more sweeping, and that was that the custom of meeting at the inns of an evening was, at least for a time, abandoned. the meetings were held at whitehall, at the top of the high street, and to make things smart and business-like, a dozen strong chairs were bought for the use of the committee room. there was also a rule about attendances, and any member failing to put in an appearance was fined sixpence, and if he happened to be the overseer, the enormity of his offence was marked by a fine of a shilling--"unless a note be sent to the meeting" [explaining cause of absence]. here was a model authority, the like of which the town of royston has never had since, considered as a working body, and having a due regard to the light in which things were then regarded as compared with the present time. in glancing at some of the things for which the parochial parliament was responsible, i must ask those readers who, though not resident in royston, may take an interest in these pages, to bear with me while i refer to a matter which exclusively affects some of the townspeople of royston. as it was, whether rightly or wrongly, brought into the parish accounts for royston, cambs., for many years during the last and the present century, it may be convenient here to make some reference to the property in melbourn street, royston, cambs., now generally known as the cave house and estate, and its management during the period of which i am writing. in the first place then, it has really nothing whatever to do with the cave, as a property, excepting for the accidental circumstance that nearly at the end of last century the then occupier of the town house, as it was called, thomas watson by name, and a bricklayer, set his men to work during the hard winter of , at cutting the present passage down through the solid chalk into the cave from the house by which it is now entered. an interesting advertisement of this event which i have { } found in the cambridge university library is given below. it bears the date . "royston cave opened.-- "t. watson respectfully informs the public in general and the antiquarians in particular, that he has opened (for their inspection) a very commodious entrance into that ancient subterraneous cavern in royston, herts., which has ever been esteemed by all lovers of antiquity as the greatest curiosity of the kind in europe. t. watson hopes that all those who may think proper to visit the above cave will have their curiosity gratified to the full extent. the passage leading to it is of itself extremely curious, being hewn out of the solid rock. "n.b.--it may be seen any hour of the day." [illustration: staircase into the cave.] since that time this old charity estate has become so closely associated with the old cave--which, by the way, is really nearer to the houses on the opposite side of the street--that the shop now occupied by mr. g. pool, on the east side of the gate entrance is { } generally described as the cave house, and the tenant for the time being has become invested with the office of curator of this old antiquity, while the shop on the other side of the gateway (messrs. whitaker's tailoring department), though equally a part of the estate, is not often spoken of in connection with the cave. [illustration: illustration of a portion of the interior of royston cave] any account of the cave itself would be quite foreign to the purpose of these sketches, but it may be of interest to those readers who are not aware of the variety of curious and ancient carvings which adorn its walls, to give a glimpse of the interior, showing a portion of the figures. the part selected for the following illustration is that showing the high altar, the saviour extended on the cross, with the virgin mary on the one side and the beloved disciple on the other, the bold figure to the left being st. catherine and her wheel; the group of figures below this are supposed to refer to richard coeur de lion and queen berengaria, but a further description would be out of place here, { } suffice it to say that for this, and the foregoing illustration of the staircase cut by watson in , i am indebted to an excellent series of photographs of the interior of the cave and its carvings, recently taken by mr. f. r. hinkins. for a full account of this interesting antiquity the reader is referred to the book by the late mr. joseph beldam, a shilling edition of which is now published with numerous illustrations. the so-called "cave" property, left for the benefit of the inhabitants of royston in cambridgeshire, dates back about ten years before the dissolution of the monastery. it was originally the old ram's head inn. william lee, of radwell, herts., was the owner of the house in the time of henry viii., and by his will bearing date th day of october, , he, among other bequests and directions of a local character made the special bequest which follows:-- "and as to the disposicon of all my lands and tenements which i have within the counties of hertford and cambridge, ffirst i will that such persons as be ffeoffees to my use imediately after my decease shall deliver estate in fee of and in my tenement in royston called the ramm's head, to certain honest persons as shall be named and appointed by mine executors to the performance of this my last will and testament. i will that the yearly profitts of the said tenement, the lord rent, reparcons, and other charges deducted and allowed, then the rent thereof comeing nere every year to be taken and retained by two of the antient of the said ffeoffees and putt in a box locked, and so to remaine in the safe custody of the said ffeoffees unto such time as any manner of tax, subsidie, and whatsoever any manner of other charges shall be granted unto the king or his heirs, kings of england by act of parliament, and then the money so coming of the rent of the said tenement to discharge and acquit all such persons as then shall dwell in the said towne of royston, that is to mean within the side of cambridge, every man and person after their porcon, and i will the said two ffeoffees, or their heirs, shall at the end of every three years make a true and faithful accompt of the revenues of the said tenement to the prior of the said monastery, or to his successors priors, and when it shall happen any great sume to remaine in the said box then i will that part of the said sume, that is to witt, all that is more than four pounds, shall be disposed in deeds of charity amongst the poor inhabitants within the said towne of royston by the good discretion of the said prior and successors." little thought william lee that within less than a dozen years monastery and prior would be no more, and still less that the time would come when no tax or subsidy to the king should be levied directly upon the inhabitants of the town. the beneficial interest of the townspeople in the trust, however, remained, and the question arose how, in the absence of any such levies and charges upon the { } towns-people by king and parliament, as were common enough in his day, the provisions of the benefactor's will were to be interpreted. during nearly the whole of the reign of george iii., and also during a part of that of george ii., the parochial parliament for royston, cambs., made short work of that knotty point, by simply treating the estate as parish property; the houses were let and rents collected by the overseers, and the revenue is duly entered in the year's parochial balance sheet, with the names of the tenants, while the feoffees seem to have stood by and tacitly approved of so simple an arrangement. the charity is still in the hands of feoffees, and at the time of writing this a new scheme for its administration is under the consideration of the charity commissioners. naturally an important part of the functions of the parochial parliament was that of providing for those who could not, and often for those who would not, provide for themselves. in many villages this had to be done by the churchwardens and overseers meeting after service in the church on sunday afternoons. in royston, however, and probably in the larger villages, the business was transacted in pretty much the same way as the vestry business already referred to. whether in the villages or the town the "indoor" relief of the poor was at best like a system of farming on short leases; indeed, "farming the paupers" was the usual description of it, and the vestry advertised, not for a master of the workhouse, but "a workhouse to let," was the very common form of announcement when the overseers were in want of someone to "farm" the paupers. what a village workhouse was like may be gathered, by making due allowance for the difference in population, from the following particulars of the palatial establishment which did duty at royston during the last, and for a third of the present century. it stood on the west side of the warren next the london road (now godfrey's terrace). it was a thatched building, occasionally mended with clay from the clay pit in the green walk valley. it had no water supply of its own, for the parish paid daniell ebbutt s. a year for the use of his well in , raised to s. d. in ; while in , water cost l a year; probably purchased of the water carrier at the door. it had a garden, for the parish paid, in , for "beans and tatos" to plant in it. there was also a pig-sty attached, and the whole place was insured against fire for only s. a year premium, for l on the building and l on the contents. the workhouse children were taught to spin, and had the decided advantage of being taught to read and write, apparently, for their "schooling" cost the parish d. a head, paid to henry watson. the { } workhouse was regularly visited by two members of the committee appointed in rotation to that office. in villages the workhouse administration was open to the inspection of any ratepayer. before the union of the two parishes in royston there was a separate workhouse for royston, cambs., situate in the back street. for a time after the union, two houses were used in royston, herts.--the "old house" and "whitehall." a workhouse master or contractor, for feeding, clothing, employing, and taking care of the poor, generally did this for a fixed lump sum up to a given number, with about s. per head above that number, or a price per head all round, he taking their labour. the lowest figure i have found was that paid at royston, herts., in , and at barkway in , when in each case the contract was for only s. d. per head! there was not much to be made out of that, and in bad times there was sure to be an application to be released from the contract or for compensation. in fact the parish had more difficulty about that one subject of contracts for "farming" the paupers than any other thing. if they got a good man he soon found that it was not worth his while to stay; if they got one satisfied with the price he did not improve the paupers or give them much for the money. here is an offer by the royston joint committee in , and a kind of dilemma not uncommon under the old poor-law:-- "order'd to offer mr. kennedy at rate of s. a head for fifty persons certain, and if more, to pay at same rate, he to provide three hot meat dinners every week." mr. kennedy, like a sensible man, declined the offer. it was then ordered to advertise for a successor to mr. kennedy, but mr. kennedy did not feel disposed to be succeeded, and declined to quit the house without notice! a candidate came all the way from grantham, but on arrival declined, and mr. searle, another candidate from wisbech, accepted it, and something like an irish eviction scene ensued. mr. kennedy, installed at whitehall, was obdurate, and with two rival masters even the paupers were in a dilemma and inclined to "take sides." some evidently stood by the old master, and the committee gave these notice that "if they did not get out of the place and provide themselves with homes within a month they would be turned out." failing to get mr. kennedy out of whitehall, the committee turned their attention to the old house on the warren again, and a deputation waited upon mr. kennedy and asked him "if he would be so obliging as to let the parish officers remove the oven, coppers, and the rest of the goods [parish property!] from whitehall to the old workhouse" at or before lady day when the lease of whitehall expired. but mr. kennedy was master of the situation and his appointment included the hire of the house, and the dead-lock continued. the parish so far { } humbled themselves as to offer mr. kennedy, if he would leave, to pay him anything he desired for his trouble, and "to provide him with lodging at any inn in the town he might think proper." mr. kennedy was given till "next sunday" to reply, and he then sent a message, apparently by one of the paupers, obstinately stating that he "had thought of all the inconvenience he could that would attend him in complying with what the gentlemen requested him to do" and that "mr. kennedy could think of nothing but his agreement." another attempt with a substantial bonus was held out, but mr. kennedy was not to be conciliated. two days afterwards another ruse was tried by a notice to mr. k. that there was a complaint about the clothing of the paupers as being "unfit for publick appearance at church," and that they "appointed mr. bunyan to appraise the clothes and fixtures." the redoubtable mr. k. was again equal to the occasion, and refused mr. bunyan admission! eventually he vacated the premises upon the time of his appointment expiring, when mr. bunyan's valuation went against mr. k. to the tune of about l , for the recovery of which mr. k. was threatened with mr. day, the attorney, but somehow covered his retreat and disappears from our view! as to the treatment of paupers, this was so far considerate that a set of new rules framed in were actually submitted to the paupers for "hearing their objections to the rules," which were then "settled between the committee and the paupers"! where, in some of the surrounding parishes, the parish officers catered for the paupers in the "house," entries for "bacca" and "snuff" (bought by the parish) are as frequent as tea and sugar in the accounts. in some cases, as in the parish of barkway, the workhouse and care of the poor were let to a labouring man. thus in -- "thomas climmons, labourer, agreed to farm the workhouse and maintain the poor of the parish of barkway, undertaking to provide good wholesome eatables and drinkables and decent wearing apparel for l for one year. all persons paying rates being entitled to inspect the place. signed, thomas climmons, his mark." thomas jordan, blacksmith, signed a similar agreement with "his mark" in , as did william clearing, labourer, with "his mark" in . of the kind of characters the old workhouse contractors had to deal with, and of the state of things to which the laxity of oversight sometimes reduced the establishment, the following is interesting. it is a minute of the royston joint committee in the year -- "at this meeting mary may, eliz. flindall and mary lucas, spinsters, appeared before the committee and promised to do the work now set them by mr. searle, and promised to behave well, and in future not to swear, or sing any improper songs, which if they do, mr. searle is desired to have them put in the cage and kept with bread and water { } until the visitors or committee release them, which is not to be done until the paupers are convinced that they are not to be wholly _mrs. of the workhouse_"! the manner of giving out-relief was pretty much of a piece with that in the workhouse, though had it been administered by efficient and independent officers it would have been both humane and sensible, as based upon the principle of helping those who helped themselves. but, unfortunately, the weaker side of human nature was too strong, and the system pauperised scores of people in order to prevent their becoming paupers, if i may be excused a couple of paradoxes. the object of out-relief seems to have been to help all sorts of people in all sorts of ways to tide over a temporary difficulty, but unfortunately these temporary difficulties multiplied so fast on the hands of the parish overseer as to become chronic, and that officer became the father of the parish, and the dispenser of all sorts of things from out of the parish cupboard. the claims upon the parish overseer were constant and of the most varied character. were joe thompson's children ailing? then the overseer sent in the parish doctor to bleed the poor little mites, though they might ill spare the vital fluid, and the cost of the process to the parish, when a quantity were operated upon, was d. apiece, as appears by the therfield parish accounts, though individual cases of "letting blood" were usually charged a shilling each.--was "nat simmons' gal" short of a petticoat? then, the overseer provided the needed article.--had widow jones broken her spinning wheel or her patten ring? then the cooper and the blacksmith were called in by the overseer to repair the mischief.--was "old nib"--they had a curious habit of calling nicknames in the parish books of last century!--was "old nib" short of capital for carrying on his business of buying doctors' bottles? if so, a small instalment was forthcoming from the chancellor of the exchequer. had even the respectable journeyman carpenter cut his finger? then he too got a grant upon signing a promissory note. in this way the casual disbursements of the overseer amounted to a considerable sum, and covered the greatest variety of claims for help--from paying a person's rent, or taking clothes out of pawn, to mending leather breeches or supplying cabbage plants for the paupers' gardens! the comparative isolation of the rural folk was aggravated by the old laws of settlement. to nine men and women out of ten, and to ninety-nine children out of a hundred, the world was bounded almost by the parish, and the parish a man belonged to was an important consideration in those days. indeed, sir mordaunt martin, a kind of canon blackley of the last century, proposed a scheme for fining a farmer a half-penny a day for every man he employed not belonging to { } the parish! also that all males above in default of paying d., and females / d. or d. a week for a rainy day, should be committed to prison. then, a man could not leave his parish and go to live, or even lodge while at work, in another parish without a licence; that is to say a certificate setting forth the parish to which he legally belonged. if he did he was liable to be taken before a magistrate by the overseers and churchwardens, and if a man "intruded" (that is the word used in the old informations) in this way into a parish not his own, he was liable to be taken back again, not because he was a pauper, but simply on the ground that he was "likely to become chargeable." not half a bad way of keeping out objectionable characters! cases are entered in the royston parish books of young men working at cambridge having to come to the parish officers at royston for their certificates before they could remain and lodge in cambridge! a common resolution by parish vestries was one directing the overseers to inquire if there were any persons in the parish not belonging to such parish and without certificates. in many parishes, as at barkway, old lists are still preserved of persons licensed, so to speak, to come into or go out of the parish to live. in this way the old parish authorities always had a hold upon a man or woman instead of waiting, as in the present day, until it becomes necessary to hunt up their settlement, and with no machinery for getting at them when once they get away. it may seem strange that a royston man or woman could not cross over the road, say in melbourn or baldock street, and change houses without a parish licence, and yet this was the legal effect of this old restraint. here is a specimen of such a removal over the road:-- "these are therefore in his majesty's name, to require you, the said churchwardens and overseers of the poor of the said parish of royston, in the county of hertford, to remove and convey the said e---- h---- from out of your said parish of royston, in the county of hertford, to the said parish of royston, in the county of cambridge, and her deliver to the churchwardens and overseers there, &c." we have seen that the poor of royston, herts. and cambs., were treated as of one parish at the end of last century, but in the beginning of the present century there was a hitch in the arrangement, and the machinery for conveying the paupers "over the road" came into force again, with this difference, that instead of the removal of an individual pauper there was a whole exodus to be provided for, which is thus recorded:-- "ordered that the paupers in the workhouse belonging to royston, cambridgeshire, should be taken to-morrow (nov. ) to their own parish and presented to the overseers of the poor, and if they refuse to receive them to take the sense of the parish upon it on monday at church." { } one cannot help lingering in imagination over that comical exodus, with the head man of the parish of royston, in hertfordshire, leading in procession the whole band of paupers belonging to royston, cambridgeshire, back out of egypt, or the old workhouse on the warren, down the high street, over the cross, to be handed over to the head man of royston, cambs., to whom they belonged! there was old widow b---- in pattens and a part of a red cloak; "old nib" in his greasy smock-frock, little gamaliel in mended leather breeches, and he of the one arm who gave no end of trouble by stealing down to the "red lion" to beg of the passengers on the coaches--a limping, shambling, half-serious, half-comic, procession, worthy of a frith! but what were the cambs. officials to do? they had no promised land, no house in which to accommodate the immigrants! i think it is doubtful whether they accepted them, and whether that momentous event of "taking the sense of the parish" really came off i am unable to say. the royston parochial parliament had control of the fire brigade. the fire engine, or rather the engines--for there were two engines in those days as well as now--were kept in the church-yard, and in we find this note on record as to their use and management:-- "ordered that the person who has the care of the engine be allowed five shillings for himself, if on any alarm of fire he gets the engine out of the church-yard in good time, and one shilling each for the assistants, not exceeding six; and that if he plays the engine at a fire he be allowed s. d. and his assistants s. d. each." they had a blunt but sagacious method of dealing with incompetence as appears by this further order:-- "and in case the engines, or either of them, shall be unfit for working at any time when called for, that a new person be appointed." vagrancy was dealt with by a system of "passes," by which they were able to pass through and obtain lodgings in places in the county, at a county charge, worked through the parish overseer. naturally one of the things that perplexed the minds of parish vestrymen during the last century was not how disease might be prevented, but what were the most favourable circumstances under which the usual run of accepted diseases could be passed through! small-pox was considered as one of the fates, and, like cutting your teeth, the sooner over the better! on this principle it was no uncommon thing for persons when advertising for servants, &c., to add this precaution--"one who has had small-pox preferred." here is a specimen advertisement:-- "a lady's woman, a very creditable person of about , and has had small pox." { } among sanitary matters, the propagation of modified small-pox by inoculation was the foremost question in the practical politics of the parish vestry. for this form of small-pox, introduced to forestall the natural visitation of the disease, persons would come distances from the rural districts to the towns--about as the moderns go abroad to take the baths--to pass through the process, and their presence in the town was sometimes objected to. on one occasion we find the royston vestry assembled for the purpose of "considering the improper way practised by several people (not parishioners of royston) having their families inoculated for the small-pox, and remaining in the town during their illness, and the impropriety of the surgeons encouraging such proceedings. agreed that the surgeons be waited upon with a request that they will not in future inoculate any person in their own houses unless such person so inoculated be removed in a proper time." in this old question of inoculation brought together the largest attendance at any vestry in royston for a century, excepting perhaps that upon church rates in later years. this vestry was held in the parish church "for the purpose of taking into consideration and finally settling the business respecting the small-pox and the inoculating the poor of the town at the parish expense." whereupon, says the old record, "the parish divided upon the question and there appeared twenty-five for inoculating the parish at the parish expense, and seventeen against it. it is therefore ordered," &c. in fifteen years the inoculating majority had disappeared, for in upon the question of small-pox _versus_ cow-pox, a meeting was held to consider "whether a general inoculation with the _cow-pox_ should immediately take place in this town, which was agreed _nem. con._" at the end of the century we thus see that the question of a small-pox prophylactic was wavering between the monstrous assumption that everybody must necessarily have small-pox, and had better set about it, and the milder notion of vaccine as an antidote, if the real thing should come. the old custom of variolation had not been discarded, and the experience of the gloucestershire milkmaids had not crystalized into the form of vaccination to be handed down by jenner. at the beginning of the century we find this item:-- "order'd that there is no necessity for a general inoculation, there being no small-pox in the town (except in the pest house), and that the overseers are hereby order'd to suspend the business of a general inoculation _either with the cow or small-pox_." in general sanitary matters the local parliament meant very well, but the remedy for a grievance was a long way off. the constable was the inspector of nuisances, and he must have sometimes come across heaps of dung in the street. if he did find such a nuisance he had { } instructions "to make presentment to the quarter sessions if need be?" a very dignified, but still a slow rate of getting the town clean, mr. dogberry! there was one respect in which the pauper of the last century was made equal with the prince--whatever his vicissitudes in life he was bound to be buried in wool when he died. they might "rattle his bones over the stones," but he was certain to get his pound of wool to be buried in, not as an act of consideration to the pauper, but as an important piece of that extensive legislation for the encouragement of the woollen industry which figures more often in the statute book of this realm than any other subject. with every funeral was required an affidavit that the deceased when buried was it "not wrapped up in any suit, sheet, or shroud, but what was made of sheep's wool only." a carpenter's bill for a pauper's funeral generally read "for a coffin and a pound of woole for a.b.," with frequent items for beer, as "for beer for laying out old grig, and putting him in the coffin," "laying out, one pot of beer," "putting in coffin, one pot of beer," and "carrying to church, two pots of beer," &c., &c. the casual disbursements of a parish afford, both for their subject matter and style, a variety of curious entries. the years to afforded abundant evidence of the terrible prevalence of what are now considered preventible diseases. over and over again as a reason for temporary relief being granted, the phrase is added "bad with feaver," or "a bad feaver," and many are the entries which refer to small-pox. of relief in kind perhaps the following item is one of the most original in the history of the poor-law:-- l s. d. gave james d---- for an ass . . . . . . . . to which is added that the overseer paid to mr. beldam this j. d.'s rent. a system which afforded a man a house rent free and provided him with a donkey for his business was, to say the least, rather different from guardians in the leading-strings of the local government board! nick names in the old parish accounts are abundant and also many christian names not often used now. thus:--peg woods, nel j----, old nib, royston molley, old grig, and hercules powell. the last named was the parish constable in , and he had a name at least calculated to warn off offenders! one common characteristic of these entries of the overseers, but more especially in the parish constable's accounts, was the extraordinary liberty taken in the spelling of words! in a general way dogberry, especially, was a spelling reformer, in so far as he went in for a phonetic spelling, but many entries occur in old constable's accounts which are governed by no principle ever yet laid down by scholars, with the { } result very often that it would be impossible to settle what the word intended could be but for the comparative study of it, as it turns up in a variety of literary dress in different documents always with the same context. here is the result of a little investigation into the handling of one of the commonest of the long words which found their way into the old parish constable's bills:--diblegrates, dibcatkets, dibelgrates, dibhegrats, dipplatakets, dibicits, diblicits, dibblegats, dublicits, duplicates. it took the parish constables of therfield years to solve the problem of spelling that word of three syllables! and the honour of spelling "duplicates" correctly belongs to one, john groom, who was parish constable for therfield in . one of the most frequent items in the churchwardens' accounts for parishes in this district, during the last half of the eighteenth century, was that of vermin killing, and entries for polecats and hedge-hogs were jumbled up with items for bread and wine for the communion, &c.! why the farmers should have had such an antipathy to hedge-hogs i am not aware, considering the amount of good the modern naturalist finds them doing. about the middle of the last century any person killing a hedge-hog in therfield and taking it to the churchwarden received d. for his trouble, and hedge-hogs were paid for in . the price after this went down to d. for a hedge-hog and d. for a polecat, but at barkway the price of a hedge-hog was still d., while at nuthampstead the price for sparrows, as appears by "the sparrow bill," was d. a dozen. chapter v. dogberry "on duty." there were two other officials besides the overseer and church-warden, the dignity of whose office entitles them to a place of honour in these sketches--viz., the old parish constable, and the parish beadle. to understand what the old parish constable was in relation to the public peace we have to consider him as embodying most of the functions of the present county policeman, and a variety of other matters, some of which now fall upon the relieving officer, the recruiting sergeant, and overseer. all this helped to place him in a position of some dignity and importance, which he conceived entitled him to advise even magistrates and parsons on their duty! over the parish constable was a chief constable for each hundred, through whom he was in touch with the quarter sessions. unlike the parish constable, { } however, the chief constableship of the hundred was a life appointment. when the police force came into existence the gentlemen holding the office of chief constable of the hundreds were pensioned off, and, in support of the popular notion of the longevity of pensioners, it may be of interest to add that some of these old superannuated chief constables' pensions were still running in cambridgeshire until recent years; indeed, i am not sure that the payments have all ended even yet. in this county, too, the old parish constables are still appointed annually; but their glory has long since departed. the parish constable was essentially an emergency man, and the manner in which he "rose to the occasion," forms a curious and interesting chapter of parochial history. if occasionally, like his prototype in "_much ado about nothing_," he, on the clerical side of his office, made a slip, and committed an offender to "everlasting redemption," and put down "flat burglary" for perjury, still he did manage to acquit himself of his task in a practical sort of way, though always with a tender regard for his own comfort when on duty. the office of the old parish constable was not quite adapted to the modern idea of police work. until a crime was committed the old constable had no reason to bestir himself, and when a crime was committed he was hampered in many ways. with a drunkard and a brawler he had the stocks ready to hand, but when a great crime was committed such as sheep-stealing--fearfully common, notwithstanding the dread penalty of the law, in the last and also the present century--the constable had no convenient telegraph office from which to warn his brother officers round the whole country side. he had therefore to resort to the homely process of carrying the intelligence himself, and such items as l s. d. for carrying a hue and cry to anstey . . . . represented the highest point of dogberry's intelligence department. from one parish constable to another the news was carried, like the fiery cross over the border, until the whole country round was aware of what had occurred, and, as one might expect, the criminal himself had often got fairly away. those parishes lying near the coach roads sometimes had a good share of this carrying the hue and cry, and searching for criminals. thus in therfield parish in , we find the constable making this charge:-- for sarchin the parish upon account of the mail l s. d. being robedd . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . this was the caxton mail bag, and the "sarchin the parish" appears to have created a profound impression upon the inhabitants, possibly from the awful penalty for such an offence which young gatward of the red lion, at royston, had suffered only a few years before. { } the story of the searching of the houses of therfield for the missing mail bag has been handed down even within the memory of persons still living. the search appears to have been fruitless, but the truth could wait even a hundred years; for, about thirty years ago some workmen, who were digging at a spot at the entrance to the village by the royston road, actually dug up the brass label of the "caxton letter-bag," and thus confirmed the suspicions of those who had fixed upon the village on the hill as the neighbourhood towards which the stolen mail-bag had been carried by the robbers of that far-off time. but though the parish constables were not an organised force of permanent officials, there was something like a system, and on special occasions of a heavy calendar at the assizes or quarter sessions, we find the parish constables drafted to be on duty at hertford or cambridge, even though they had no business from their own parish. thus as late as , when the celebrated trial of thurtle and hunt took place at the hertford assizes, the therfield parish constable's accounts for the year contain this entry:-- thomas lacey, constable to the parish of therfield, for attending the assizes at the trial of probet hunt and turtle-- l s. d. expense heating and drinkin lodgin . . . . . . . . allowance for days . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . there also appears to have been a sort of gathering of the clans and a dinner once a year, and in every parish account i have seen dogberry credits himself with having-- l s. d. paid at the constables' fiest . . . . . . . . . . but, however useful and dignified an official the old constable was in emergencies affecting the public peace, it was on the civil side of his work that his duties often became the most interesting, when, as was the case in most villages where no beadle was kept, he combined the duties of that office with those of the policeman; and in no respect does he figure in so interesting a light as in the pleasing function of arranging paupers' marriages and seeing that they were carried out. the motive for all dogberry's finesse in match-making diplomacy was connected with the old parochial settlement. if one of the fair sex was likely to become troublesome to a parish our friend dogberry made it his business to get hold of the responsible swain, and by persuasion, bribes, and threats, managed to bring the parties together, get them through the marriage ceremony, and himself (the constable) earned the lasting gratitude of the parish for having got rid of a pauper, settlement and all! the pecuniary consideration involved was so important that when the bride was of one parish and the bridegroom of another, a good dealing of manoeuvring between the rival constables--the one to force on and the other to prevent the match--took place, and when the successful constable did manage to bring the parties together, the { } parish benefitting by the process could afford to be liberal, and dogberry, and his "aid," and the wedding pair, had a merry time of it while the credit of the parish lasted. so much of a bargain-making was this marrying a pauper that it is not unusual to find such entries as these in the parish books of last century-- l s. d. gave w---- a wife, cost . . . . . . . . . . . . . by expenses attending, marrying, mary d----, and sending her away . . . . . . . . . . . . . . when a pauper had brought about trouble under the bastardy laws dogberry first used the arm of the law by apprehending him, and then the subtle methods of diplomacy by marrying him. interesting are the detailed accounts of the old weddings carried out under the superintendence of the parish constable. here is one from the parish of therfield-- therfield parish dr. to h. hodge. etin and drinkin at john hollensworth's weddin. aug. folks suppor . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . " folks brakfarst . . . . . . . . . . . . . . " " deners . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . " " suppors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . " brakfast . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . to beer for the hol time . . . . . . . . . . cunstablers' time, days . . . . . . . . . nits (nights) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . pad at sam green's cheppine . . . . . . . . . ------- in another hand is added . . . . . . . . . ------- l here is a picture of a very interesting state of things! the little party that persuaded john hollensworth to marry the fair one, who was expected otherwise to be a trouble to the parish, evidently went off to buntingford on august th to get there in time for the great event on the morning of august th, and, after spending the day in the manner indicated by this hotel bill, remained till the th and left after brakfarst. but even the responsible pair of "cunstablers" failed to get by sam green's, at chipping, without spending that s. d., and arrived home late at night on the rd day, in what condition the record says not, but so much to the satisfaction of the parish that their diplomacy was apparently rewarded by a substantial bonus of s. d. being added to their bill! there are many other journeys to buntingford on a similar errand recorded in the parish accounts of therfield. in one case in the bounty of l s. d. was given to the man for taking the woman, and the total of the "cunstabler's" expenses in this little expedition was l s. d. the details of this account contain a remarkable run of { } items for quarts of beer, "beer for parish ofesers," &c., and of the whole account of items of them are beer! in one case the expense of marrying a barkway woman to a man at clavering cost l s. d., and of this amount l s. d., was spent in eating and drinking; l s. d. at ye bull, at barkway, before the party started, and the remainder at the fox and hounds at clavering. the carriers made a good thing out of these little transactions, for there is one case from the parish of barkway where the carrier charged a bill of l s. d. for conveying the bride and bridegroom and dogberry to the altar! but in this case the bill was for taking sam smith and his future wife to london, and they did the thing in style! first, the constables of barkway and therfield and their "aids" had to apprehend the bridegroom; in the next place the marriage had for some reason to come off in london, and before the ceremony was completed the bill paid by the parish ran up to l s. d. some interesting details of this wedding are given below:-- the parish of barkway to john beale (constable). for the expenses for haveing saml. smith and l s. d. is wife to london . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . paide at home before whe whent out with him, for the gold ring . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . paid at the angel for drink . . . . . . . . . . . paide for two letters from w. bullen . . . . . . . paide for a heade [probably "aid"] coming from buntingford . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . paide thos. climmons three days jorney for going to london . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . and three days jorney for my self . . . . . . . . eatin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . drink . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . the degree of fervour with which the constable and his "aid" drank the healths of the bride and bridegroom may be inferred from the large proportion for drink. something must of course be allowed for a festive occasion such as this, when dogberry could afford to waive a little dignity and be sociable! but he did not always need this incentive, and could even discharge the responsible office of having a prisoner "in hold," and at the same time carry off a respectable quantity of malt liquor. take the following illustration-- the parish of barkway, dr. to james brown while r. r. was in hold. . jan. to dinner for consbl. and aids and l s. d. prisoner . . . . . . . . . . . . . . do. supper for do. . . . . . . . . . " do. breakfast for do. . . . . . . . . do. for dinner for do. . . . . . . . . to beer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ------- { } this little transaction covered hours, from dinner time one day to dinner time the next, inclusive, and while the four meals only cost the moderate sum of s. d., the beer came to s. d., or s. / d. each man, and, as the price was about as now, each man drank pints of beer! that this little weakness was not peculiar to the parish of barkway is clear from the accounts in other parishes. yet the account was allowed and passed without any government auditor! the duty of keeping watch and ward in most places during the last century, and a part of the present, was almost as important a civil function as were the police functions of the old constable, if only for the reason that fires were extremely common, and the buildings of materials which led to fires of a destructive character when they did occur. [illustration: dogberry "on duty."] in the village constable were merged some of the functions both of policeman and beadle. the function of "watch and ward" had, however, no official representative in the villages, where in times of special risk, when incendiary fires were too common, the principal inhabitants took their turn in keeping watch. to find the parish beadle in the full-blown dignity of his office we must therefore go to the towns, to royston for instance, where we shall find mr. bumble in all the stately pomp of cocked hat, great coat with a red cape, and gold lace, breeches and hose, and a staff with the royal authority of georgius { } rex emblazoned thereon! a full figure, and an interesting character, worthy in every way of the old georgian era; in a corporation, as important in his own estimation as mayor and corporation combined; elsewhere, as we shall see, he was sometimes reduced to the humiliating condition of having to be "generally useful." to our modern notions it must, i think, seem strange that it was necessary for him to unburden his official conscience every hour of the night by the ringing of his bell and calling out the hour and state of the weather! we have no right, however, to laugh at our forefathers about a matter of this kind, who might, i daresay, very well laugh at some of our modern customs. we must bear in mind that there was no policeman on beat at that time, and, considering how much one may get reconciled to by the force of habit, it is quite possible that the people of the georgian era slept the more soundly for these nocturnal interruptions--rested more peacefully upon the assurance which was thus conveyed, however indistinctly, to their minds, that while they slept their town and property were safe from the marauder, and safe from fire so far as a dignified, not over-paid, and i daresay sometimes not very wide-a-wake individual could make them so! royston was probably the only place in this district which employed a beadle, bellman or watchman, as a permanent official. the first account of such an appointment, that i can find from existing documents, is for the year . this year there was a special arrangement made of a temporary kind to meet an emergency, or to relieve the old bellman. at any rate, in august of that year, it was agreed in public vestry to appoint an assistant watchman for six months at eight shillings a week (no mention in his case of coat and hat, &c.), to attend at the same hours as the old bellman (spicer), who was then receiving nine shillings a week, besides outfit. the wages were then paid partly out of "subscriptions of the gentry and partly from the church rate." spicer, the "old bellman," as he was called, in contradistinction to his assistant, continued to hold office after this for about fourteen years, and then, after an evidently long period of service, resigned the office through some little delinquency, and we find the vestry engaged in the important business of appointing a new beadle, bellman or watchman, the record of which will afford us a good opportunity of learning something of what the duties of the office were. the beadle combined in his office a number of duties, including one which he must have felt a little _infra dig_--i mean the office of scavenger! the following is the record referred to:-- "at a publick vestry held at the parish church of royston, the th day of april, , pursuant to public notice given in church yesterday, for the purpose of choosing a proper man to serve the office of bellman and scavenger for this town in place of william spicer, who { } resigned his place at church on easter monday." [the easter vestry had had under their consideration complaints of spicer's conduct, and there was a full meeting now assembled.] "it is agreed upon _nem. con._ that the place and business of a bellman and scavenger is to go about the town in the night as bellman, from lady day to michaelmas day from the hours of eleven o'clock at night until four o'clock in the morning, and from michaelmas day to lady day from the hours of eleven o'clock at night until five o'clock in the morning, and to ring his bell every time he calls the hour, and to do his utmost endeavour to prevent any robery to be done in the town. "and as scavenger to devout his whole time in the day to keep all the streets, lanes, and drains in the town clear; and not to suffer any dirt to be in heaps in any part of the town, and to his utmost endeavour to prevent any paupers to beg about the town, but forthwith to apprehend them and send them out of the town. "and to assist the constables in any business that shall be required to be done in the town, and any other business the parish officers and committee shall think proper. "and for such service he, the bellman, shall receive from the churchwardens, weekly and every week, the sum of ten shillings. "and the bellman now appointed shall receive from the town a new bell, real, and staff, one new great coat with a red cape, and a new hatt, and likewise a new cart fit for the purpose of taking up dirt from the streets; all to be returned to the churchwardens in good repair in case of vacating his office." this agreement, subject to a month's notice in writing, was to remain in force until the next easter "except the bellman shall be found drunk when on duty, then the bellman to be immediately discharged from his office." the candidates for the office at this time were john hagger and joseph clarke, and hagger was appointed. the duties set forth above were those belonging to mr. bumble, as bellman, to call out the hour and state of the weather at night, and as scavenger to keep the streets clean by day. the other side of his office is slightly hinted at by the reference to assisting the constable, and in fact it was the day duty which embraced the peculiar dignity of beadledom. he was the man who had to look after the behaviour of the paupers, could in quiet times occasionally "thrash a boy or two to keep up appearances" without much questioning, and though not possessing the penal authority of the constable, had a great deal of the detective tact to exercise in preventing unseemly brawls, &c. at the royston fair the beadle's was a notable figure, and of this kind of duty the { } following instruction to spicer, the old bellman and beadle in , may be quoted-- "ordered that the bellman be desired to go round the fairs every fair day and if he finds any person or persons using or attempting to make use of any kind of gaming in the fair that he immediately prevent if he possibly can, otherwise to apply forthwith to a constable for that purpose." in the old bellman and ex-beadle spicer, who had been called upon to resign in , was appointed the town scavenger at a salary of s. a week! how are the mighty fallen! spicer had probably become a pauper, and, to add to the degradation and humiliation, the quondam wearer of the scarlet cape, cocked hat, and royal staff, had, at a later meeting, his s. a week for scavenging taken off because he had neglected his duty, and he was dismissed from this humble office! whatever was his failing the official decline of spicer was as pathetic as that of mr. bumble's surrender of all his "porochial" dignity to the charms of mrs. corney in _oliver twist_! on the subject of the powers of the beadle as scavenger a curious and significant resolution was found necessary in , when it was-- "order'd that the scavenger do keep the streets clean and not suffer any heaps of dirt to lye, and that any person who thinks proper shall be at liberty to take dirt or dung from the streets at any time after it has laine one day." in other words, if a person allowed dung to be in the street for more than a day he might lose it altogether and find it carried away on to somebody else's garden. a very effective way of enlisting the co-operation of the public in keeping the streets clear of all offensive matters. the condition of things made some such drastic measures necessary at a time when the effect of unsanitary conditions was not very much thought of by individuals. upon this point the state of the pest house on the warren, set apart for the reception of persons suffering from infectious diseases, was reported upon in the following terms; "one of the rooms had been used as an henhouse, but in other respects clean." for the credit of those receiving the report, however, it should be added that it was "ordered that the room should be cleaned and not be used for that purpose any more." the last of the race of beadles for the town of royston was john ward, who will probably be remembered by some readers of these pages. he had the honour of receiving the highest wage i have found paid to that office, viz., s. a week, besides the outward panoply which gave to the office its pompous gravity. for years there is no more familiar item in the parish accounts than that of "john ward, beadle, s." in , however, when the air was so full of reforms { } of all kinds, john ward, beadle, lost part of his emoluments. his weekly stipend became reduced to s., apparently because the office of scavenger was again made a distinct office, to which james shepherd was appointed at s. a week. shortly after this the office became a thing of the past, and john ward, beadle, disappears from our view, to join the company of the last minstrel, the last fly wagon, the last stage coach, and the last tinder-box! for well-a-day! their date was fled, his pompous brethren all were dead, and he, neglected and oppress'd, wished to be with them and at rest. * * * * old times were changed, old manners gone, a "peeler" filled the beadle's throne! chapter vi. the dark night of the eighteenth century--the shadow of napoleon. the gloom which shrouded the night and morning, the death and birth, of the two centuries, and its terrible consequences to the people of this country, together form an event which has no parallel in our modern history, nor, with the possible exception of the famine years in the fourteenth century, in any known period of our history. the whole of the last quarter of the eighteenth century has been very well described as a period of high prices, low wages, and of unparalleled suffering. the war dragged on, and to make matters worse, the century closed with a most disastrous run of bad seasons. prices continued to rise to an alarming height, and with it popular discontent increased so much that george iii. was mobbed, hooted, and pelted on his way to the house of lords! the bank of england stopped payment in , and among country banks which did the same was wisher's bank at cambridge. consols went down to / . with each succeeding bad season prices continued to rise. those who could keep corn for the rising market reaped their reward, not alone of extraordinary prices, but of a storm of popular indignation, against both farmers and corn dealers, and the farmers were threatened, and in some cases actually had the precious ricks of grain burned, because it was alleged they had created an "artificial scarcity." { } the century closed with one of the most severe winters ( - ) known for many years, and the suffering was intense. in , the harvest was spoilt by incessant rains, and during the next year wheat reached s. per quarter in mark lane, the lb. loaf went up to s. / d., or about s. d. of the present money value, and other articles, including meat, almost in proportion. after the disastrous harvest of the year of became the "memorable year of scarcity," in which some wheat was sold as high as s. a bushel, and the average official price is given at s. d. per quarter. the average in royston was a little below this, but both here and at other hertfordshire markets the price occasionally went up to s. a bushel. in november, , parliament, by means of bounties, practically guaranteed to every person importing foreign wheat that he should be paid s. per quarter for it, and proportionate rates for barley, rye, oats, flour, rice, &c. that the foreigners did not send much, even on these terms, is shown by the straits to make the wheaten flour hold out. not only did the poor suffer and have to put up with such bread as they could get--and a large part of it was made of barley-meal, rice, &c.--but all classes suffered. those who "farmed the paupers" pleaded to be released from their contracts or for special compensation; proprietors of boarding schools, or "academies," as they were generally called, had to modify their terms and to plead for compensation, while the king on his throne found the civil list insufficient even with that spartan order adopted by his majesty, george iii., that the bread in his household was to be made of meal and rye mixed, and that the royal family were to eat the same bread as their servants. the first traces of the hard times which closed the century occur in royston as early as , but the worst part had not come yet. in the following year ( ) we find the principal inhabitants in public meeting assembled, at the red lion, passing sumptuary laws binding themselves to economy in the use of wheaten flour, with a view to reduce the consumption of wheat. the meeting set forth its opinion in the following statement, or pledge:-- "we, the undersigned, impressed with a sense of the evils which may be experienced by his majesty's subjects in consequence of the deficient supply of wheat unless timely and effectual measures are taken to reduce the consumption thereof; do hereby jointly and severally pledge ourselves in the most solemn manner to execute and maintain to the utmost of our power, the following resolutions, _and also most earnestly recommend the same to be adopted in our respective neighbourhoods_. "to reduce the usual quantity of wheat consumed in our families by at least one-third, either by limiting to that extent the quantity of { } fine wheaten bread used by each, or consume only mixed bread of which not more than two-thirds shall be made of wheat; also if necessary prohibit in our families the use of wheaten flour in pastry; also resolved that all bread given away by public charity or used in the workhouse shall not contain more than two-thirds parts of wheat; also recommended to bakers to use same proportion in supplying the public; also that overseers do not allow any families collection from the parish who do not commonly use the aforesaid kind of bread. "agreement to remain in force until fourteen days after opening of next session of parliament, unless before then price of wheat falls to s. per winchester bushel. "signed by thomas shield (vicar), j. wortham, john cross, wm. sparke, saml. maling, george careless, john trudgett, thomas cockett, wm. cockett and thos. watson." in november, , a vestry was called "to consider the best means of relieving the poor during this very hard time." "it was agreed that farmers and others employing labourers of this town will provide for and take care of such men, so that such men or their familys be any ways chargeable to the parish, and that a subscription be raised for the relief of poor widows, and such as have no masters, and any deficiency wanting for the latter description of people be supplied out of the rates." the farmers and other employers, however, did not respond sufficiently, and in the following month (december, ) another vestry meeting was held, at which it was-- "unanimously resolved that as the present unusually high price of nearly all the necessary provisions of life are manifestly beyond the power of the labouring poor to purchase by their ordinary wages in sufficient quantities for the support of their lives and the maintenance of their families, some effectual assistance and relief must necessarily be given to them." in january, , the winter being especially severe, we find a soup kitchen was fitted up, and in february another difficulty arose with the workhouse master "being unable to provide for paupers according to contract on account of extraordinary high prices of provisions." by april the demands upon the overseers and committee had become so incessant that robt. hankin was appointed assistant to the overseer at a salary of six guineas a year. some of the ratepayers stood out for meeting the emergency without falling so much upon the rates, and at the above meeting when a rate was produced to be signed for the purpose of defraying the expense of the soup kitchen "a division arose, the majority being in favour of the rate being signed." { } with the approach of winter, things became critical, and in november we learn that-- "a quantity of rice having been provided by several gentlemen of this town who have generously offered to give up the same to the parish at prime cost; resolved that the offer be accepted and that the same be paid for by the overseers for the benefit of the poor." a committee was formed for dispensing the same. at this time nearly the whole of the labouring population must have been upon the parish or next door to it, and the suffering rate-payers made one more appeal to the farmers, for in november, at a meeting on the subject-- "it was resolved that it be recommended to the farmers of this town to allow their labourers such wages as may prevent them from becoming chargeable to the parish, and it is also recommended that such men as belong to the parish be employed in preference to others." this feeling was apparently prompted by the knowledge of the fact that the farmers were reaping a harvest out of the famine, while other ratepayers, such as the small tradesmen, were suffering as well as the poor. it was not, however, every farmer who had any wheat to sell at the famine prices then ruling, and hence any uniform plan of raising wages became hopeless. the course taken by the farmers and others to whom these appeals were made, was, to say the least, unfortunate, and led to no end of trouble in after years. the parish was obliged to step in, and to save the people from starvation, fixed a kind of minimum scale of income upon which each family could subsist, according to the number in family and the price of bread, and simply made up the difference between the wages and the standard. the effect of this was to pauperise for the time the whole labouring population, and that the ratepayers, employing no labourers themselves, had to help to pay for those who did! in the evidence collected by sir frederick eden in as to the earnings and cost of maintenance of labourers' families, six families were taken from the parish of hinxworth, representing hertfordshire, and the earnings of each family averaged s. / d., and their necessary expenditure exceeded their receipts by l s. / d., or about s. a week, which would have to be made up out of the rates. of the peculiar hardship which thus grew up a correspondent in the _farmers' magazine_, for , says:--"the present period to this class (small shopkeeper, &c.) who has a cow, and while he has it cannot have relief, is truly distressing, but as for the labouring people, _they are all on the parish funds_." it was stated in parliament that farmers were making per cent. profit! the probability is, however, that the great majority of farmers had little or no corn left to sell. { } here is a communication apparently from a farmer, to the same magazine, from a provincial market:-- "i am truly concerned to inform you that the price of grain advances every succeeding market day and that there is no prospect whatever of a fall. wheat s. to s. per bushel. a number of principal fanners convened by the mayor had agreed to sell their wheat at s. per bushel. not long adhered to, for while i and others were selling at that price others were getting s., and so the matter dropped. price of bread now almost out of reach of the poor; we have subscribed sums of money to purchase butcher's meat and potatoes for distribution, leaving them to buy bread with money received from the parish. as for rice as substitute, it, like everything else, has advanced to double the price. herrings are strongly recommended by the government." even barley bread was not easy to obtain, and we further learn that (by april, ) "the state of the poor cottager is now truly deplorable, for though barley may still be had it is at an enormous price, and it is impossible for labourers to provide for their families at such prices. it is to corn merchants and dealers in grain whose very existence they have been taught to curse and deprecate that the good people of this country must now look for near five months to come for subsistence." "if we have not an early harvest, god knows what will be the consequences," is another remark of a correspondent! the old tales of "barley bread as black as your hat," which many persons living have heard their grandfathers speak of, were no mere tradition, but a stern hard fact, and whenever, in that terribly anxious spring time of , the poor could get a scrap of bacon, a dish of tops of slinging nettles was by no means an uncommon resort to eke out the means of a precarious existence. it is hardly an exaggeration to say that the harvest of was looked forward to with as great a degree of anxiety as ever the children of israel looked for a sight of the promised land! what the memorable year of scarcity really was in a locality like this is best understood by means of the poor rate. the poor rate in royston was very heavy during the previous twenty years, averaging about six or seven shilling rates in a year. in the old parish books are preserved all the rates made, and the months in which they were made, for royston, herts., and from these entries it is possible to trace the effect of the scarcity for each year. in there were ten shilling rates made, in nine, in (a more favourable year than the others) eight, after which it went up with bounds. in the rates rose to eleven, and in to eleven s. rates and three of s. each, or s. in the pound. in the demands became so pressing that to have collected the requisite amount in shilling rates { } would have necessitated the making of a fresh rate almost every fortnight all through the year! the overseers therefore made out the rates in s. at a time, and for that memorable year of scarcity eleven s. rates were necessary for the relief of the poor, or a rate of s. in the pound! a shilling rate produced about l for royston, herts., at that time (now it is about l ), and the total amount of rate required for that single year was l s. d., or more than three times the average of even the scarce years of the two previous decades! the overseers for these memorable years were thomas wortham and e. k. fordham for , and joseph beldam and john phillips for . in some places in essex the rate was as high as s. in the pound for the year , or more than twice the amount of the rent of the property rated! the highway rates, levied upon the land to make up the tolls sufficient to repair the turnpike road from royston to caxton, were in arrear for and the whole of the next year! to understand the effect of the misery upon the whole of the people, war had brought napoleon to the front in a manner which caused many in england to take a gloomy view of the future, and to express the opinion that "the sun of england's glory is set"! while british ships were upholding british heroism in the mediterranean, the hungry mass of the people at home were paying more attention to the sun in the heavens and the promise of harvest. happily the season promised well, and in royston the religious bodies held special meetings in july and august for prayer and thanksgiving for the encouraging signs of a bountiful harvest, which was shortly afterwards gathered. then to add to the sense of relief their came the joyful tidings "peace with france," on printed bills pasted on the sides of stage coaches passing through our old town, by which means the glad tidings passed through the country like a gleam of sunlight into many a home, and brought about a sudden and extraordinary reaction from despair to hope! in a very short time corn went down to a comparatively low rate, and the poor rate for royston, herts., went down to l s. d., or little more than one-third of the previous year! though, as we shall see, the shadow of napoleon was shortly to settle again over even the local life of england with a new terror, yet that short-lived burst of joy, if it did not quite close, gave a brighter turn to a bitter crisis in which the people of this country were pressed down by want and war, and may be said to have subsisted upon barley bread and glory! the memorable re-action from the scarcity and suffering already described, in the peace rejoicing of , had scarcely died away in our streets before, in , the action of napoleon aroused suspicion, and { } our old volunteers (to be referred to presently) found themselves called upon in earnest, for "the magnanimous first consul," suddenly changed into the "corsican ogre" with a vengeance! the firmament breaks up. in black eclipse light after light goes out. one evil star luridly glaring through the smoke of war, as in the dream of the apocalypse, drags others down! war broke out and napoleon formed a great camp at boulogne for invading england. this aroused a remarkable outburst of patriotism, and led to the enrolment of an army of three hundred thousand volunteers. we, who sometimes discuss, merely as a theory, the possibility of an invasion of england, can form a very inadequate idea of how terribly real was the napoleonic bogie to our great-grandfathers! they knew that "boney" was a character who would stop at nothing in carrying out his designs, and so it came about that the shadow of that collossal stride of the corsican adventurer, darkened the homes in every town, village, and hamlet in this land, and you cannot even to this day turn over the pages of old parish records, or stir the placid waters of old men's memories, without finding traces of this old ghost which wellington wrestled with so terribly on the fields of waterloo! there was, in napoleon's work, an over-mastering will to accomplish, at whatever cost, the purpose he set himself, and our great-grand-fathers, with all their contempt for the french, had the sense to recognise something of what wellington afterwards so well expressed of the man, napoleon buonaparte,--"i used to say of him that his presence on the field made a difference of forty thousand men." of more interest even than the enrolment of the volunteers were the measurers taken for local defence and for the protection of the civil population and property--the women and children and livestock. this was taken up as a complete organization, county by county, hundred by hundred, town by town, and village by village. in the month of july, , we find the deputy-lieutenants of cambridgeshire, thirty-four in number, meeting at cambridge, and adopting an address to the king, expressing determination to support him in the war with france. sir edward nightingale, bart., of kneesworth house, presided. it was resolved to adopt the measures indicated for establishing a system of communications throughout each county, and also for rendering the body of the people instrumental for the general defence in case of an invasion. also that the several hundreds in the county be formed into divisions with a lieutenant over each, to report to, and act in concert with the county lieutenancy, that the lieutenant for each division { } appoint an inspector for each hundred, and that the inspector for each hundred appoint a superintendent for each parish. for the division of the county formed by the union of the hundreds of armingford (royston district), longstowe, wetherby and thriplow, hale wortham, esq., was the responsible lieutenant. [illustration: napoleon buonaparte.] a similar meeting was held at hertford, and men were called to arms between the ages of and , and in all towns and villages there was nothing but swearing in and drilling of soldiers, to resist the impending invasion, by which it was said that england was to be divided among the french--"the men all to be killed and the women saved." in accordance with the above mentioned county scheme each parish had its council of war, so to speak, at which men more accustomed to "speed the plough" found themselves in solemn conclave discussing such strategical proposals as the local circumstances of each neighbourhood seemed to suggest for arresting the onward march of the invader when he had landed, as it was feared he would. necessity was the mother of invention, and what the farmer class wanted in military knowledge, they made up for in practical sagacity directed to the intensely personal ends of protecting their own homes and families, their herds and stacks from the ruthless hands of the coming hosts! it was naturally expected that napoleon would land and enter england from the south or east, and that in the latter case the inhabitants of hertfordshire and cambridgeshire would, in the event of a flank movement through the eastern counties for london, be among the first to bear the brunt of the devastating march! the horror of the expected invasion was intensified a thousandfold by the englishman's attachment to his home and family, and deliberations of the village councils often showed less regard for the national scheme of defence than the protection of their homes and property in the time of trial coming upon them. they set to work devising means of local defence as real and as earnest as if every village was already threatened with a state of siege! this is clear from an intelligible means of local defence which was taken in this neighbourhood. the expectation that "boney" and his "mounseers" were coming from the south or east, naturally suggested the expedient of arranging for the transport of non-combatants, and live stock away farther northward. the expedient was arranged for by the villages around royston along the old north road; and a plan had been devised that as soon as tidings arrived that buonaparte had landed, each village was to assemble their live stock at a common centre in the village, and then unite with those from other villages. thus the route for the removal of stock was settled, until it was expected that quotas from each village would make one united common herd wending { } its way northward to a safer distance from the ravaging hordes! one seems to see that terrified exodus---- now crowding in the narrow road, in thick and struggling masses. * * * * anon, with toss of horn and tail, and paw of hoof and bellow, they leap some farmer's broken pale, o'er meadow-close or fallow! from chronicles in the british museum i am able to supplement the foregoing arrangement in force in cambridgeshire by more definite particulars of the organized precautions to be taken in counties lying nearest the coast as soon as the presence of the invader became known. as a preliminary, returns had to be made as to the driving of live-stock farther inland away from the coast "in order that indemnification might be estimated for such as could not be removed." the removal of stock and unarmed inhabitants was to be effected after the following fashion:-- first in order were to go the horses and wagons conveying those persons who were unable to remove themselves; then ( nd) cattle; and ( rd) sheep, and all other live-stock; intelligent and active persons to be set apart to superintend these measures. with regard to the unarmed inhabitants, generally, the arrangement was that they were to "form themselves into companies of not less than or more than , the men to come provided, if possible, with pickaxes, spades, and shovels, billhooks and felling axes, each men to have a leader, and for every men a captain in addition." for the purposes of transport, the nobility, gentry, and farmers, were requested to sign statements showing how many wagons, horses, and carts, they could place at the disposal of the nation in an emergency. similar returns were required from millers and bakers as to how much flour and bread they could supply. turning once more from documentary evidence, to the recollections handed down from parents to children, i am reminded that the inhabitants of bassingbourn and other villages were farmers first and soldiers afterwards; for, having settled the momentous issue of providing for the safety of their families and herds, these village yeomen joined with others in seeking means for thwarting the too ready advance of "boney's" legions. it is said that as a last resort it was intended to cut down the trees standing by the sides of the north road, felling them across the road, so as to impede the march of napoleon's artillery! for how long these efforts could have withstood the march of the legions who crossed alpine heights, or for how long that great caravan of non-combatants and live-stock could have { } out-distanced the invaders, could not have been very re-assuring questions, nor have i been able to find out what was to be the destination of the live-stock. it is true that if the worst fears were realized our great-grandfathers in this district would have had some little warning, for did not the old coach road to the north pass through our town and district? and did not the old semaphore stand there on the summit above royston heath, waiting to lift its clumsy wooden arms to spell out the signal of the coming woe by day? by night was the pile for the beacon fire, towards which, before going to bed, the inhabitants of every village and hamlet in the valley turned their eyes, expecting to see the beacon-light flash forth the dread intelligence to answering hills in the distance! only the simple act of striking a flint and steel by night, or lifting of the arm of the newly invented semaphore telegraph by day, seemed to separate the issues of peaceful rural life and the ruthless invasion of war! the dread was a real and oppressive one, such as we cannot possibly realize to-day! but, amidst the fearful presages of war and invasion, the affair had its lighter side, and provoked not a little of comedy and burlesque. in the library of the british museum there is an extremely interesting collection of squibs! satirical ballads, mock play-bills, &c., upon the expected appearance of buonaparte, with caricatures by gillray and others. in searching through such a collection, it is difficult to stay the hand in making extracts, but a few must suffice. in one the first consul is styled "the new moses," and there is a list of his ten commandments; in another there is a catechism as to who is buonaparte, with not very flattering answers. in others there are sketches of the imaginary entry of napoleon with graphic scenes of pillage, &c., and again adaptations of theatrical language, such as-- "in rehearsal, theatre royal of the united kingdom. some dark, foggy night, about november next, will be attempted by a strolling company of french vagrants, an old pantomimic farce, called harlequin's invasion, or the disappointed banditti." in others, m. buonaparte was announced as principal buffo, "being his first (and most likely his last) appearance on the stage!" perhaps the best of this ephemeral literature were lines which found their way in lighter moments into the songs on our village greens; and, sung to the fine old air of the "blue bells of scotland," helped for the moment to banish anxiety over some alehouse bench! when, and o when, does this little boney come? perhaps he'll come in august! perhaps he'll stay at home; but it's o in my heart, how i'll hide him should he come! and so on through a number of stanzas. { } but though there was a light side, out of which the humorists of the period made a market, the napoleonic scare was no laughing matter for the poor people, who had nothing to gain and everything to lose, by even the possibility of the thing. we, who, in these peaceful times, are apt to swagger about britannia ruling the waves, cannot perhaps realize what it meant to have this great military genius sitting down with his legions of three hundred thousand opposite our shores, keenly watching for and calculating our weakest point of defence! what should we think if, in every cottage home in this district, it was necessary, on going to bed at night, to be prepared for a sudden alarm and departure from all that was dear to us in old associations; if our little children, before retiring to rest at night, took a last look in fear and trembling to the hills above royston heath, where the beacon was ready to flash out the portentious news to all the country round, and asked "is it alight?"--if each little one had to be taught as regularly as, if not more regularly than, saying its prayers, to pack up its little bundle of clothes in readiness for the dread news that boney had indeed come! yet all this is only what really happened to our great-grandfathers in that terrible time of ! it may be of interest to glance at the means taken for repelling the invader should he make his appearance. this was no mere machinery of conscription, such as under other circumstances might have been necessary, for a spirit of intense patriotism was suddenly aroused, fanned into flame by stirring ballads, such as the following, to the tune of "hearts of oak"---- shall french men rule o'er us? king edward said no! and no said king harry, and queen bess she said no! and no said old england--and no she says still! they will never rule o'er us--let them try if they will! in all parts of the country, where volunteers and loyal associations had not already been formed, these sprung up with one common purpose so finely expressed by wordsworth-- no parleying now! in britain is one breath, we all are with you now from shore to shore. ye men of kent, 'tis victory or death! even little boys in the streets, as cruikshank has told us, formed regiments, with their drums and colours "presented by their mammas and sisters," and made gun stocks with polished broom-sticks for barrels! it is a singular circumstance and comment upon the much smaller extent to which our food supply depended upon foreign countries then than now, that, in the midst of all this perturbation and impending evil, wheat was selling in royston market as low as s. per load! even before the eighteenth century had closed napoleon had been suspected of designs upon england, and among the local volunteers { } enrolled for service against a possible invasion, according to their numbers none were more conspicuous for public spirit than the royston and barkway men, enrolled under the command of the militant clergyman, captain shield, vicar of royston. the following notice of the temper and disposition of the corps and their commander is characteristic:-- "the royston and barkway loyal volunteers, commanded by captain shield, have unanimously agreed to extend their services to any part of the military district in case of invasion." the rev. thomas shield, vicar of royston, to , was evidently both a courageous and patriotic townsman, for among the characteristics of him which come down to us is the statement that he would ascend the pulpit wearing his surplice over his uniform, and having finished his sermon would descend from the pulpit, slip off his surplice, and march to the heath at the head of his company of volunteers for drill on a sunday afternoon! "a gallant band of natives headed by their military vicar, the rev. thomas shield, in full regimentals, and accompanied by good old john warren, the parish clerk and music-master, as leader of the band, marched through the streets on sunday afternoons to the sound of the fife and the drum, and all the little boys in the place learned to play soldiers." i have been unable to verify this to the letter, but something approaching it, though not on a sunday, took place on one memorable occasion, when the ceremony of the presentation of colours was performed in , of which i give some particulars below:-- thursday, st august, , was a memorable day in the history of this corps and a great day for royston; the event being the presentation of colours to the corps by the honourable mrs. peachey, in the presence of a very respectable company. at o'clock the corps, attended by captain hale's troop of hertfordshire yeomanry, were drawn up on the market place, where mrs. peachey was accompanied by lady hardwicke, lord royston, and other noble ladies and gentlemen. mrs. peachey, in an elegant speech, referred to the day as the anniversary of nelson's great victory, and feeling sure that the captain of the corps would receive the colours with the elevated zeal and christian spirit best suited to the solemnity of their consecration. captain shield was equal to the occasion, and in a strain of oratory in keeping with his patriotic spirit, accepted the colours in suitable terms, and, addressing the men, said:--"at a most important crisis you have stood forth against an implacable enemy in defence of everything that is dear to us as men, as members of society, and as christians! with a reliance therefore on your zeal, with a confidence in your virtuous endeavours, i commit this standard to your care, and may the lord of hosts, and the god of battles, make you firm and collected { } under every trial, and securely under it to bid defiance to the desperate enterprises of those who may rise up against us"! after the ceremony of presentation the company marched to church, where the colours were consecrated by prayers, read by the rev. mr. bargus, vicar of barkway, and the prebendary of carlisle preached a powerful sermon. the local choir of fiddles and clarionets, &c., was not equal to so great an occasion, and a choir of singers from cambridge attended, and chanted the psalms and sang the coronation anthem. a cold colation given by the rev. captain followed, and the volunteers marched to the heath, where "they performed their manoeuvres and firing with great exactness." at five o'clock a company of ladies and gentlemen, exclusive of the corps, sat down to a "handsome dinner" on the bowling green [at the green man] in a pavilion erected for the purpose. here we are told that "loyal and appropriate toasts kept the gentlemen together till eight o'clock, soon after which they joined the ladies at the red lion, where the evening was concluded with a very genteel ball." the old chronicle adds a curious complimentary note upon the moral and spectacular aspects of the day. "so much conviviality, accompanied with so much regularity and decorum, was perhaps never before experienced in so large a party." two bands of music, the cambridge loyal association band, and the royston band, were present, and we further learn that "the number of people that were assembled in royston on this day is supposed to be greater than is remembered on any former occasion." the identical colours presented by mrs. peachey are still in existence, and are in the possession of mr. rivers r. smith, whose father was a member of the band. the above was not the only occasion upon which captain shield and his soldiers kept the town to the front, for, on the anniversary of the day of the presentation of colours in , they wound up the century with another note of patriotic defiance of buonaparte, by holding a field day on royston heath, and then, after dining together upon the bowling green as before, spent the evening with their guests, and wound up with "an elegant ball" at the red lion. having thus foreseen the evil day, and got together a well disciplined body of men, the rev. thomas shield kept up an _esprit de corps_, and had frequent field days with his men on the heath. this universal soldiering and heralding and closing the day with bugle, fife, and drum, naturally had a great effect in stirring the life of the people, but such an institution could not, any more than its modern example, exist long upon patriotism and applause. mr. thomas wortham, the treasurer to the corps, found that the royston people came out well with their money and equipment for { } repelling the invader. e. k. fordham's name appears in the list for l ; the rev. thomas shield for l s., and "personal service"; william nash l s.; john and james butler for l s. each; waresley and fordham l s.; thomas cockett "two stands of arms and accoutrements complete" [what kind, not specified], and others followed suit. royal reviews and grand hospitalities were common in the metropolitan district, such as the grand review in hyde park, but perhaps the most memorable in which the hertfordshire volunteers took a part was the grand review of the militia, yeomanry, and volunteers in hatfield park, on the th june, , in the presence of the king and queen and other members of the royal family, cabinet ministers, and a host of distinguished people, whom the marquis of salisbury entertained at hatfield house with such splendid hospitality that the entertainment cost l , . forty beds were made up at hatfield house for the accommodation of visitors. the general company must have been immense, for carriages and wagons, gaily decorated, "extended in a line for three miles in length," and the scene was brightened "by the presence of the ladies wearing white dresses." the hospitality for the men under arms was on the most generous and famous scale. about seventeen hundred men sat down at tables, laid out on the western side of the house. the following is a list of the good things placed upon the tables upon that memorable occasion:-- hams, rounds of beef, joints of veal, legs of lamb, tongues, meat pies, edge-bones of beef, joints of mutton, rumps of beef roasted, briskets, dishes of other roast beef, gooseberry tarts, &c., &c. the commissariat appears to have been at the "salisbury arms," for this part of the hospitality, where we learn that there were killed for the occasion:-- bullocks, sheep, lambs. inside the historic building of hatfield house the scene was worthy of the occasion too, for here, in king james' room, king george and the royal family sat down to a sumptuous dinner, while the banquet for the cabinet ministers and others extended to covers, and the whole affair engaged the services of regular servants, and extra waiters were employed for the occasion besides. such a gathering inside and outside the home of the cecils as that of has scarcely been equalled since, excepting perhaps by that of royalty in the jubilee year of queen victoria in . the following was the muster of volunteers with their captains assembled at this memorable review:-- royston and barkway, captain, rev. thomas shield, men; hertford, captain dimsdale, ; hatfield, captain penrose, ; ware, captain dickinson, ; st. albans, captain kinder, ; { } hitchin, captain wilshere, ; bishop stortford, captain winter, ; cheshunt, captain newdick, ; hunsdon, captain calvert, ; and wormley, captain leach, . in accordance with the plan of drafting the volunteers out for permanent duty in other districts, we find in the royston and barkway corps, under command of captain shield, doing days permanent duty at baldock, concluded by the firing of three excellent volleys in the market place. having completed this patriotic duty, they were reviewed by colonel cotton, and afterwards dined together on the bowling green, and "the day was concluded with the utmost conviviality and harmony." the bassingbourn corps (afterwards incorporated with chesterton) in like manner went on permanent duty at newmarket; an event which was followed by a review on foxton common by general stewart, when, "at the end of the town they all mounted in wagons stationed there to receive them, and drew together a great part of the beauty of the town to witness the scene," and were afterwards hospitably entertained by mr. hurrell. the efficiency of the men got together in defence of their homes and kindred was generally spoken highly of in the records of the times, but i am sorry to add that in one case a drummer belonging to the royston volunteers was tried by court martial and sentenced to receive lashes for absenting himself without leave, but the rev. captain, though a stern disciplinarian, had a tender heart and fatherly interest in his men, for we further learn that "when the proceedings of the court had been read to the corps, and everything prepared for the execution of the sentence, captain shield the commandant, after an impressive address to the corps and the prisoner, was pleased to remit the punishment." upon the subject of volunteer marksmanship a little piece of statistical information in the british museum, referring to the boston volunteers, shows the capacity of the men for hitting the target (no question of bullseyes!) the total number of men firing was and, after several rounds each, the number of men who had actually hit the target was , the number of those who did not hit the target --not quite wimbledon or bisley form! though the immediate danger of an invasion passed away by boney having other work on his hands, the french were afterwards in evidence in a different capacity, for as many as , french prisoners were at one time maintained in different parts of england, a famous centre for them being norman cross, between huntingdon and caxton. they lingered here, now amusing their hosts with representations of molière's plays; now making fancy articles in straw, &c., some of which are still to be found in many houses in cambridgeshire. { } companies of them were even so far indulged as to be shown over the university buildings at cambridge previous to resuming their march through royston, en route for chatham and tilbury, to be returned home to france! at last, buonaparte's reign of fighting seemed over, and with his retirement to elba there was such a peace-rejoicing as comes only once or twice in a century. come forth ye old men, now in peaceful show, and greet your sons! drums beat and trumpets blow! make merry, wives! ye little children stun your grandames ears with pleasure of your noise! at cambridge, marshall blucher was lionized, and here, as elsewhere, the celebrations were on a grand scale. at royston it was one of the social land-marks of the first quarter of the century. the peace rejoicings took place here on june th and th, . on wednesday, about o'clock, the under sheriff of the county, preceded by a band of music--and such a band of music! made up of some thirty or forty players on instruments--followed by a numerous cavalcade, proceeded first from the bull hotel to the cross, and there the proclamation was first read. the procession then returned to the market hill, where it was read a second time, and from thence to the top of the high street, where it was read for the last time. in the evening, "brilliant illuminations" took place with transparencies and variegated lamps. on the following day (thursday) the bells rang merry peals, and at one o'clock about nine hundred of the inhabitants sat down to a good dinner on the market hill. at four o'clock the gentlemen and tradesmen sat down to an excellent luncheon on the bowling green at the green man inn, after which many appropriate toasts were given by the chairman, hale wortham, esq. at intervals the royston band, "who very politely offered their services," played some popular pieces. to conclude the day's festivities, a ball was given at the assembly room at the red lion. i believe the only person now living who remembers sitting down to that famous dinner on the market hill is mr. james jacklin, who was then a very little boy with his parents. the rejoicings were unbounded and images of "boney" were carried about in almost every village on donkeys or men's shoulders, and afterwards burned on the village green. no one dreamed that waterloo was still in store, but alas it soon appeared as if all this patriotic eloquence, and peace rejoicing, would have to be _un_said, for in a short time there came the alarming news that napoleon had escaped from elba and was returning to france! he did return, and so did wellington! waterloo was fought and won, but, the english people having, as the americans say, been a little too previous with { } their rejoicings over elba, made less of the greatest battle of the century than they might otherwise have done. so passed away a figure which had troubled the peace and conscience of europe for a generation, the tradition of whose expected advent on our shores did for many a year after discolour the pages of our country life, like some old stain through the leaves of a book, and the old bogie which frightened children in dame schools only disappeared with the russian scare which set up the russian for the frenchman in crimean days. chapter vii. domestic life and the tax-gatherer--the doctor and the body-snatcher. by the fireside, in health and disease, and in the separations and contingencies of family life, we must look for the drawbacks which our great-grandfathers had to put up with during that remarkable period which closed and opened the two centuries, when great changes ever seemed on the eve of being born, yet ever eluded the grasp of the reformer. what a sluggish, silent, nerveless world, it must have been as we now think! on the other side of the cloud, which shut out the future, were most of the contributories to the noisy current of our modern life--from express trains and steam hammers to lucifer matches and tram cars! steel pens, photographs, postage stamps, and even envelopes, umbrellas, telegrams, pianofortes, ready-made clothes, public opinion, gas lamps, vaccination, and a host of other things which now form a part of our daily life, were all unknown or belonged to the future. but there were a few other things which found a place in the home which are not often met with now--the weather-house (man for foul weather and woman for fine)--bellows, child's pole from ceiling to floor with swing, candlestick stands, chimney pot-hook, spinning wheel, bottle of leeches, flint gun, pillow and bobbins for lace, rush-lights, leather breeches, and a host of other things now nearly obsolete. in the better class houses there was a grandfather's clock, and possibly a "windmill" clock, but in many villages if you could not fix the time by the sun "you might have to run half over the village to find a clock." one of the primal fountains of our grandfathers' domestic comforts was the tinder-box and flint and steel. without this he could neither have basked in the warmth of the yule-log nor satisfied the baby in { } the night time. but even this was not sufficient without matches, and, as bryant and may had not been heard of, this article was made on the spot. in royston, as in other places, matches were made and sold from door to door by the paupers from the workhouse, by pedlars driving dog carts, or by gipsies, and the trade of match-makers obtained the dignified title of "carvers and gilders." at by-ways where a tramp, a pedlar, or a pauper, did not reach, paterfamilias, or materfamilias, became "carver and gilder" to the household, and made their own matches. in one case i find the royston parish authorities setting up one of the paupers with a supply of wood "to make skewers and matches to sell." [illustration: tinder-box, flint, steel, and matches.] the tinder-box, like other household requisites in all ages, was sometimes very homely, sometimes of "superior" make. the above illustration is of one rather out of the common, and the artist has brought the different parts together rather than showing the process, for the lid would have to be removed before the tinder beneath could be fired. the most common form of tinder-box was an oblong wooden box, of two compartments, one for the tinder and the other for flint and { } steel. at elbrook house, ashwell, is one, in the possession of edward snow fordham, esq., said to be two hundred years old. the process of getting a light by means of the tinder-box involved a little manual dexterity and mental philosophy--if the fugitive spark from the striking of the flint and steel set alight to the tinder, well; you then had simply to light your clumsy sulphur-tipped skewer-like "match," and there you were! if the tinder happened to be damp, as it sometimes was, and the spark wouldn't lay hold, you were not one bit nearer quieting the baby, or meeting whatever might be the demand for a light in the night time, than was an ancient briton ages ago! when the modern match was first introduced as the "congreve" the cost was s. d. for fifty, or about / d. each, and when, a few years later, the lucifer match was introduced, they were sold at four a penny! now you can get more than four well-filled boxes for a penny! in the first quarter of the century the supply of fuel was very different from now. by slow and difficult means did coal arrive. cambridge was the nearest centre for this district, and thence the coal used in royston was obtained. tedious and troublesome was the process of dragging it along bad roads, and between cambridge and royston this made a difference of about s. per ton in the price. farm labourers, when agreeing for their harvest month, generally obtained, either by bargain or by custom, the right of the use of one of their master's horses and carts after harvest for a day to fetch coals from cambridge. another concession made by the farmer to the men was that each man was allowed after harvest a load of "haulm," or wheat stubble, left in the field from reaping time. this "haulm" was useful not only for lighting fires with, but, like the bean stubs, for heating those capacious brick ovens in the old chimney corners, in which most of the cottagers then baked their own bread. sometimes the stage wagoners brought a "mixed" cargo, and put coals into their wagons to fill up, and undersold the dealers (at less than d. a bushel), and the practice was complained of at cambridge, more especially respecting royston and buntingford districts. it may seem strange now to speak of persons, even at a hospitable board, having taken too much salt, carefully replacing some of it, upon economical grounds; but, considering that there was then a duty of a guinea a bushel upon this necessary article, it is not surprising. our grandfathers paid about d. a pound for their salt; the commonest calico was d. a yard, and printed calicoes s. d. per yard. in the average price of sugar, wholesale, was s. / d. per cwt., exclusive of duty. between and the battle of waterloo were many times of scarcity, with wheat varying from s. to s. a quarter, and some in royston market reached s. a bushel. as to clothing, there were very few ready-made clothes, and the village tailor was a man of importance { } when leather breeches and smock frocks were in general demand. a smock frock, washed till it was quite white, was as common a sight then as was the scarlet cloak worn by our great-grandmothers, but both these familiar sights have disappeared as completely as the yellow leather top boots, to be seen on sundays up till fifty years ago in the churchyards of rural england. [illustration: a lady of the period.] the vagaries of fashion at the beginning of the century were of almost inconceivable variety and extravagance; not only the ladies, but dandies of the opposite sex wore stays for the improvement of the figure, and curled their hair with curling irons! though wigs had almost gone out of fashion, hair powder had not. in a former sketch a figure of a lady in the earlier years of the reign of george iii. was given. the above is another specimen of head gear at a later period of the same reign. { } trades necessarily followed fashions, and, when snuff-taking was almost universal, the manufacture of gold, silver, and baser metal snuff-boxes, was a thriving trade. a hair dresser's shop up to the end of last century was also different in appearance from one to-day, and was furnished with perukes, or wigs for all sorts of heads. at upwell, in the fen, in , a wig caught fire in such a shop and "before the fire could be put out thirty-six wigs were destroyed." luxuries were much more limited than now, and many things then regarded as such have since got placed in a different category. at the end of the last century a pianoforte had not figured in any royston household, but it came at the beginning of this century when lady wortham as she was always styled--as the daughter of sir thomas hatton, bart., and wife of hale wortham, esq.--became the owner of the first piano at their house in melbourn street (now mr. j. e. phillips'). newspapers were among the luxuries of the household, and their circulation was of a very limited character. when, for a town of the size of royston, two or three copies did arrive by a london coach the subscribers were generally the principal innkeepers--the red lion, the crown, and the bull--and to these inns tradesmen and the leading inhabitants were wont to repair. the only alternative of getting a sight of the paper was that they could, on ordinary occasions, have it away with them at their own homes upon paying a penny an hour for its use. on special occasions when any great foreign event became known--for papers contained but little home news--the competition for the paper was an exciting event, the above arrangement was hardly elastic enough to meet requirements, and crowds gathered about in the inn yards on the arrival of a coach to learn some momentous piece of intelligence with more or less accuracy from post-boys and others, who in their turn had heard it from somebody else whose friend had been able to communicate it with the authority of having actually "seen it in the paper." the essence of the news required was generally victory or defeat in battle, or trials at assizes, and could soon be told. the supply of papers was limited pretty much to the _times_ and _morning chronicle_ from london, while the _cambridge chronicle_ was then the principal local newspaper. as the chancellor of the exchequer derived a revenue from the stamp required for each newspaper (as well as upon advertisements) the lending of a newspaper was looked upon in the light of smuggling, and an act was passed providing that "any person who lends out a newspaper for hire is subject to a penalty of l for every offence." but i fear that with even this terrible inducement to buy your own paper, and the natural zeal for the spread of knowledge of a man like henry andrews, the astronomer, as agent for the sale of newspapers in our { } town, very few copies were actually bought, and that most of the "news" which could not be obtained from the coaches was obtained by the royston tradesmen in that illicit manner of lending and hiring, though forbidden by law! work and wages, closely connected with the condition of home life, did not present a very cheerful picture. the labourer, and all engaged in husbandry, had much longer hours than now. an old writer on husbandry says, "the dairymaid should always be up in the morning between three or four o'clock." the young fellows living "in service" on the farm had never done till it was time to go to bed, and, having but very little if any money to spend and nowhere to go, a short interval for supper by the kitchen fire was about the only recreation they enjoyed to vary their lot. it was a time when there was little room for squeamishness as to the conditions under which men laboured--when little boys, instead of brooms, were sent up ill-constructed chimneys, with no sense of remorse from their employers, who in their turn had probably commenced business by going up themselves and saw no reason against the practice. at a later date, however, there was a great stir made about this practice, which led to its coming before a committee of the house of lords. one of the payment family--who then, as now, carried on the business of chimney sweeps in royston and its neighbourhood--was called as a witness to give evidence before the committee of the house of lords. i am credibly informed that the member of the royston firm was at first rather alarmed at the prospect, thinking no doubt that he was about to be called to account as a "climbing boy," but when he found what was the nature of his errand, that his evidence was considered of so much value by the house of lords, and that it meant a few days' holiday in the great city provided for him free of expense, the incident was one to be remembered with pride. a few courageous spirits set to work raising subscriptions to provide "machines," as now used, instead of "climbing boys," but, incredible as it may seem, met with a good deal of opposition at first, both from householders and master sweeps. among those who took up the question was mr. henry fordham, then a young man at hertford. let me conclude this reference to sweeps with a story from this district, vouched for by the old newspapers at the time, viz., that in one of the villages in the district was a chimney sweep who had sixteen sons all following the same occupation! among outside agencies which broke in upon the old domestic life of the period none was more potent or omnipresent than the tax-gatherer. you could not be born, married, or buried, without the consent of the chancellor of the exchequer, so to speak; for there was at the end of the last century a d. tax upon births, marriages, and burials, and it { } appears that the clergy were allowed a commission of s. in the l, for the collection of the tax. among the objections to it was that the poor man could not sometimes pay it without borrowing the money, and yet was made equal with the rich in regard to the amount. even occupiers of cottages had to pay the window tax, unless exempt by the receipt of parish relief, but, by many thoughtful men of the time, its application to agricultural labourers was looked upon with disfavour. about the end of the last century there was hardly anything that a man could see, taste, handle, or use, that was not taxed--windows, candles, tobacco pipes, almanacs, soap, newspapers, hats, bricks, domestic servants, watches, clocks, hair powder, besides nearly every article of food! all these in turn came under the hands of the chancellor of the exchequer, till, as sydney smith said, "the school-boy had to whip a taxed top, the youth drove a taxed horse with taxed bridle along a taxed road; the old man poured medicine, which had paid per cent., into a spoon that had paid ; fell back upon a chintz bed which had paid per cent., and expired in the arms of an apothecary who had paid a licence of l for the privilege of putting him to death; and immediately his property paid to per cent., and his virtues were handed down to posterity on taxed marble." the extravagant vagaries in the fashions of dressing the hair formed a tempting point for the chancellor of the exchequer to come down upon, and the tax in the form of "hair-powder certificates," at the rate of a guinea a head, occasioned perhaps more commotion in fashionable circles than any other tax. it was a profitable source of revenue owing to the great use of hair-powder, and at the same time its disuse would mean a gain in the supply of flour, of which it was largely made, for consumption. short hair, or "crops," soon came into fashion as a means of evading the tax and "dishing" the chancellor of the exchequer, a re-action which was responsible for the following parody of _hamlet_:-- to crop, or not to crop, that is the question:-- whether 'tis nobler in the mind, to suffer the plague of powder and loquacious barbers; or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and, by the scissors, end them? from the old royston book club debates of last century it will be remembered that i quoted the result of a vote upon--which of the three professions, of divinity, law and physic, was most beneficial to mankind, and that the doctors could only get one vote, against a respectable number for law and divinity. i ventured to suggest that the bleeding, blistering and purging at certain seasons was probably responsible for { } the low estimate of the medical profession, and of this may be given the following example-- in , the parish doctor's bill for the therfield paupers contained twelve items for "blisters," eight for bleeding (at d. each!), and in another, eight for "leeches." there was a much more detailed account given in the old doctors' bills of a century ago than in the curt missives which are now usually limited to the "professional attendance" with which the old bills began, and the "total" with which they finished; "bleeding, blistering, leeches, vomits, julep, boluses," &c., were all duly accounted for. the following is a _bonâ fide_ doctor's bill of , delivered to and paid by a resident in one of the villages of this district:-- s. d. bleeding----daughter . . . . . . . a febrifuge mixture . . . . . . . bleeding----self . . . . . . . . . a cordial mixture . . . . . . . . a diuretic tincture . . . . . . . two opening draughts . . . . . . . the mixture repd . . . . . . . . . bleeding----daughter . . . . . . . two opening draughts . . . . . . . -------- l the item "bleeding----self" is a trifle ambiguous, but probably it was the parent and not the doctor upon whom the operation was performed! inoculation has already been referred to, but i may here state that the first account i have seen of professional inoculation for the smallpox in royston is the announcement in the year of--"george hatton, surgeon, apothecary and man-mid-wife in royston, who, with the advice of his friends and the many patients whom he has inoculated, begs leave to acquaint the public that he will wait upon any person or family within or miles from royston, and inoculate them for half-a-guinea each person, medicines and attendances included, and, that the poor may have the benefit of his practice, a proper allowance will be made them and diligent attendance given." bills of the same period show that the charge for this species of inoculation "when a quantity was taken," as in the parish bills, was s. or s. d. each person. the advantage claimed for spreading the disease of small-pox out of the rates by means of inoculation was that if you had it as the result of inoculation only one person in died, but if you had small-pox by infection, eight out of every hundred died. it may be of interest to add as a general fact upon health and diseases, that in , out of , burials the following were the proportions of deaths from the leading diseases:--consumption , , convulsions { } , , dropsy , , fevers , , small-pox , , measles , "teeth" . the deaths under two years of age were , , or one-third of the whole! the classification was not so exact in those days as it would be now, but the race has improved a little in regard to infantile mortality and consumption. in coupling the doctor and the body-snatcher, at the head of this chapter, i did not really mean to convey more than the general association of human experience in the periods of sickness and the close of life. if there was a closer association of these two characters in the later georgian era, it is, at least, a satisfaction to be able to write of such things entirely in the past tense. at a time when even to maintain the decencies and comforts of domestic life was often a struggle with untoward surroundings, it may seem to show a desire to load the past times with more than their share of trials and misfortunes, to suggest that the most painful of all experiences of the times was reserved for the end of life; that the ordeal of the separation from friends by death was embittered, and intensified, beyond anything in more modern experience, yet it is certain that the revolting business of the "body-snatcher" did, for some years, between and , brood over many a village in this district like a cruel night-mare! the reception of bodies, or "subjects," from country or town burying grounds for the dissecting rooms of london and other hospitals, became almost a trade, not altogether beyond the commercial principle of supply and demand. generally about two guineas was the price, and students would club together their five shillings each for a "subject." in the face of such facts it would be idle to suggest that the tradition of that mysterious cart, moving silently through the darkness of night on muffled wheels towards our village churchyards, was merely a creature of the imagination. the tradition of that phantom cart which lingered for years had a substantial origin as certain as the memory of many persons still living can make it! in many of the villages around royston, as indeed in other districts, the terror of it became such that not a burial took place in the parish graveyards, but the grave had to be watched night after night till the state of the corpse was supposed to make it unlikely that it would then be disturbed! the watch was generally kept by two or three men taking it in turns, generally sitting in the church porch, through the silent hours of the night armed with a gun! the well-to-do were able to secure this protection by paying for it, but many a poor family had to trust to the human sympathy and help of neighbours. under a stress of this kind probably some brave antigone watched over the remains of a dead brother, and certainly it was not uncommon for husband and wife to face the ordeal of sitting out the night till the grey light of morning, in some lone church porch, or the vestry of some small meeting-house--watching lest the robbers of { } the dead should come for a lost son or daughter! over the grave of some poor widow's son, or of that of a fellow workman, volunteers were generally forthcoming to perform this painful office. though the law was seldom invoked, there must have been numberless cases in which bodies were stolen, cases in which the modest mound of earth placed over the dead had mysteriously dropped in, and the outraged parents or relatives, not unnaturally perhaps, turned with bitter revengeful thoughts to the london and other hospitals of that day--whether justly or unjustly god knows! around the parish churchyards of bassingbourn, melbourn, and especially therfield and kelshall, the memory of unpleasant associations lingered for many years after the supposed transactions had passed away; nor was it merely an experience peculiar to isolated village churchyards. on the contrary it was customary, even in the royston church-yard, surrounded as it is and was then by houses--with the vicarage house then actually in the church-yard, in fact--it was customary for relatives to sit in the church porch at night and watch the graves of departed friends! of actual occurrences of robbing the graves there is the story of a woman living in one of the villages on the hills not far from royston, when on her way home, accepting a ride with a neighbour, only to find to her horror that the driver had a dead body in his cart! as to the allegations that stolen bodies did find their way to hospitals for dissecting purposes, there is a well authenticated story of a case in which a roystonian was recognised in the dissecting room of a london hospital! a doctor, whose name would, i daresay, be remembered by some if mentioned, and who was in the habit of visiting a family in royston, and knew many royston people, upon entering the dissecting room of one of the london hospitals, at once recognised a "subject" about to be operated upon, as a person he had frequently seen in royston, a peculiar deformity leaving no possible doubt as to her identity! excepting when the natural dread of it came home to bereaved families, there was no very strong public opinion on the subject; the law, which came down with a fell swoop upon many classes of small offenders, was too big an affair for dealing with questions of sentiment, and as there were no little laws of local application readily available, the practice was too often connived at where examples might have been made. in some things our grandfathers may have had the advantage over this hurrying age, but the reverent regard for the dead, and the outward aspect of their resting place, is assuredly not one of them. { } chapter viii. old pains and penalties--from the stocks to the gallows. all the old punishments, from the ducking stool to the stocks, proceeded upon the appeal to the moral sense of the community, and up to the middle, or probably nearer to the end of last century, the summary punishment of offenders took place, both in village and town, in the most public manner possible. near the old prison house, standing a little eastward of the summit of the cave, in melbourn street, which did duty for both civil parishes of herts. and cambs., stood the royston pillory and also the stocks, but towards the end of the century the pillory disappeared, and stocks had to be set up in each parish. i can find no record of any actual punishments by the melbourn street pillory, but one of the last cases of punishment by pillory took place at hertford, and was witnessed by mr. henry fordham. closely connected with, and as a part of the stocks was the whipping post, and this was very freely used until about . in a prisoner was sentenced at ely to be publicly whipped, besides imprisonment. in , i find that george rose was brought from cambridge to royston and whipped at the stocks. what his offence was is not stated, but that whipping was no trifle may be inferred from the following laconic entry in the royston parish books:--- "relieved william c----, his back being sore after whipping him." the offender had his wrists put through the rings on the upright posts of the stocks, which formed the whipping posts, and in this position he was flogged on his naked back "till his body was bloody." vagrants had no small share of this kind of punishment. the following entry occurs in the barkway parish papers:-- hertfordshire to witt. to the keeper of the house of correction at buntingford. this is to require you to whip elizabeth matthewson upon her naked body, and for so doing this shall be your warrant. g. jennings. in an item in the accounts for the same parish is charged for "the new iron for the whipping post." { } the stocks for royston, cambs., stood in the middle of the broad part of kneesworth street, nearly opposite the yard entrance of king james' palace, and just in front of some dilapidated cottages then occupying the site of mr. j. r. farrow's shop. here they remained as a warning to evil doers till about or . in royston, herts., after the abolition of the central prison-house in melbourn street, a cage was erected with stocks attached on the market hill, on the east side nearly opposite the green man, but they were removed at a later date to the fish-hill, when an addition was made to the west side of the parish-room, for the purpose, where the fire engines are now placed. an estimate in the parish books for the erection of a cage and stocks in royston, herts., at a cost of l , in the year , may perhaps fix the date at which each parish provided its own means of punishment of wrong-doers. though drunkenness was a vice infinitely more prevalent than it is to-day, it was not because local authorities did not at least show the form of their authority, but simply because they had no very efficient police system to back it up. it was customary for instance for the publican to have a table of penalties against "tippling" actually posted up in his licensed house, so that both he and his customers might see what might be the consequences, but as they often could not read they were probably not much the wiser, except for a common idea that the parish stocks stood outside on the village green, or in the town street. the common penalty for tipplers continuing to drink in an alehouse, was that such persons should forfeit s. d. for the use of the poor, and if not paid to be committed to the stocks for the space of four hours; for being found drunk s., or six hours in the stocks. as to swearing, a labourer was liable to be fined s. for every oath, a person under the degree of a gentleman s., and for a gentleman s. in times of disturbance, as at village feasts, it was no uncommon thing to see the stocks full of disorderly persons--that is, with two or three at once--and occasionally the constable's zeal in the use of this simple remedy outran his discretion. at the herts. assizes in , before sir wm. blackstone, a baldock shoemaker, named daniel dunton, obtained a verdict and l damages against the chief and petty constable of baldock for illegally putting him in the stocks. there was, of course, an odd and comic side about the stocks as an instrument of punishment, which cannot belong to modern methods. an instance of this was brought home to the writer in the necessary efforts at ransacking old men's memories for the purpose of some parts of these glimpses of the past. i was, for instance, inquiring of an old resident of one of our villages as to what he remembered, and ventured to ask him, in the presence of one or two other inhabitants, the innocent question--"i suppose you have seen men put in the stocks in your { } time!" but before the old man could well answer, a younger man present interposed, with a merry twinkle of the eye--"yes, i'll be bound he has, he's been in hi'self!" i am bound to say that, from the frank manner in which my informant proceeded to speak of persons who had been in the stocks, the younger man's interruption was only a joke, but it taught me to be cautious in framing questions about the past to be addressed to the living, lest i should tread upon some old corns! there was this virtue about the parish stocks, that it was a wholesome correction always ready. it was not necessary to caution a man as to what he might say, before clapping him in the stocks. nor was much formality needed--he was drunk, quarrelling, fighting, or brawling, it was enough; and the man who could not stand was provided with a seat at the expense of the parish. indeed, i am told that in one parish, near royston, a farmer, who was himself generally in the same condition, finding one of his men drunk, would remark that one drunken man was enough on a farm, and would bundle the other drunkard off to the stocks without the least respect for, or care about, informing a magistrate thereof! the parish stocks were, as may be supposed, sometimes tampered with, and became the medium of practical jokes, of which, perhaps, the best story on record is that of a chief justice in the stocks. the story is as follows:-- lord camden, when chief justice, was on a visit to lord dacre, his brother-in-law, at alely in essex, and had walked out with a gentleman to the hill where, on the summit by the roadside, were the parish stocks. he sat down upon them, and asked his companion to open them, as he had an inclination to know what the punishment was. this being done the gentleman took a book from his pocket and sauntered on until he forgot the judge and his situation, and returned to lord dacre. the learned judge was soon tired of his situation, but found himself unequal to open the stocks! he asked a countryman passing by to assist him in obtaining his liberty, who said "no, old gentleman, you were not placed there for nothing"--and left him until he was released by some of the servants who were accidentally going that way! not long after he presided at a trial in which a charge was brought against a magistrate for false imprisonment and setting the plaintiff in the stocks. the counsel for the defendant made light of the charge and particularly of setting in the stocks, which, he said, everybody knew, was no punishment at all! the lord chief justice rose, and, leaning over the bench, said, in a half whisper--"brother, were you ever in the stocks?" the barrister replied, "really, my lord, never."--"then, i have been," rejoined his lordship, "and i do assure you, brother, it is not such a trifle as you represent!" { } one cannot refrain from expressing a lingering sense of regret over the last of its kind, whether of the last of the mohicans, or the last minstrel. the parish of meldreth, i relieve, stands alone in the cambridgeshire side of the royston district as still possessing the visible framework of its old parish stocks, thanks to the commendable interest taken in the preservation of old time memorials by mr. george sandys, of royston, by whom the meldreth stocks were some time ago "restored," or, rather, the original pieces were brought more securely together into one visible whole. the parish of meldreth, too, affords, i believe, one of the latest, if not the latest, instances of placing a person in the stocks, when, some forty or fifty years ago, a man was "stocked" for brawling in church or some such misbehaviour. these stocks, when they were renovated by mr. sandys, had lost the upper part which completed the process of fastening an offender in them, but such as they then were will be seen in the illustration on the opposite page, which is reproduced from an excellent photograph taken by mr. f. r. hinkins, of royston. the original upper part has since been found and placed in position by mr. a. jarman, of meldreth. [illustration: the old parish stocks at meldreth.] some other things deserve to be mentioned as old penalties besides actual punishment for crimes. one of these was the penalty for _felo de se_, so well described by hood in his punning verses on faithless nelly gray and ben battle, the soldier bold, who hung himself, and-- a dozen men sat on his corpse, to find out how he died; and they buried ben at four cross-roads, with a stake in his inside. in , john stanford, who hung himself at the red lion, kneesworth, was found to be a _felo de se_, and was "ordered to be buried in a cross-road." in , the coroner's inquest who sat upon the body of one, howard, a schoolmaster of litlington, who, "after shooting mr. whedd, of fowlmere, cut his own throat," found a verdict of _felo de se_, upon which he was ordered to be buried in the high cross-way, but whether a stake was placed through the body, either in this or the kneesworth case, is not stated. the custom of burying a _felo de se_ at four cross-roads continued long after the barbarous and senseless indignity of driving a stake through the body was discontinued, and persons still living remember burials at such spots as the entrance to melbourn, and at similar spots in other villages. another penal order was for the body to be "anatomised" after execution, as in the case of a man named stickwood for murdering andrew nunn, at fowlmere, in . sometimes as an alternative penalty for crimes was the system of enlistment for the army and navy, with which may be coupled the high-handed proceedings of the "press-gang." the press-gang { } was practically a recognised part of the machinery of the state. the law, as to recruiting, sanctioned what would now be considered most tyrannical proceedings; justices of the peace were directed to make "a speedy and effectual levy of such able-bodied men as are not younger than seventeen nor more than forty-five, nor papists." the means for enforcing this, not only along river-sides, but often in inland country villages, was often brutal, and led to determined resistance and sometimes loss of life. there is a story in cornwall of a bevy of girls dressing themselves up as sailors, and acting the part of the press-gang so well that they actually put their own sweethearts to flight from the quarries in which they were working! the dread of compulsory service was so great that the lot might fall upon men to whom the name of war was a terror. one case of this kind occurred in a village near royston in which two men were drawn to proceed to ireland for service, and one of them actually died of the shock and fright and sudden wrench from old associations, after reaching liverpool on his way to ireland! on the subject of pressing for the services, the following characteristic entry occurs in the royston parish books for the year :-- "ordered that the wife of march brown be permitted to leave the house as she says her husband is pressed and gone to sea, and that she came to the parish for a few clothes only, as she can get her living in london by earning two shillings a day by making breeches for rag fair." though the stocks and the gallows may seem a long way apart, yet they were really very near in the degrees of crime which linked them, and what now would appear a minor offence, had inevitably linked with it the "awful sentence of the law." at the bury st. edmunds assizes, in , persons received sentence of death. the extraordinary number of persons who were hung as the assizes came round will be best understood by some figures of death sentences for the march assizes, :--hertford , cambs. , bedford , northampton , chelmsford , oxford , thetford , bury , york , exeter , east grinstead , derby , nottingham , leicester , gloucester , taunton , kingston . at one only of the above assizes the number of prisoners of all kinds for trial was . in june, , twenty-five persons were sentenced to death at the old bailey, and of them were hung together the next week. in there were capital convicts awaiting execution in newgate, and in thirteen prisoners were sentenced to death for horse-stealing and lesser offences at a single sessions in london! at the herts. assizes in , john wood, a carpenter, of royston, was ordered to be transported for fourteen years for having some forged bank notes concealed in his workshop. in the same year, { } at the cambs. assizes, william wright, a native of foxton, was sentenced to death and executed at cambridge, for uttering forged bank of england notes. at the hertford assizes, in , william cox, for getting fire to a hovel of wheat at walkern, was sentenced to death. among other oddly sounding capital offences, i find that a man named horn was sentenced to death at the hertfordshire assizes in for stealing some money from the breeches pocket of a man with whom he had slept. at the cambs. assizes, in , daniel dawson was tried for an offence of poisoning a mare the property of william adams, of royston, and was sentenced to death, and executed at cambridge about a fortnight afterwards. sheep-stealing, horse-stealing and highway robberies, were the chief offences with which capital punishment was connected, and associations were formed to prosecute offenders. the parishes of north herts. were especially notable for sheep-stealing cases. in , at the herts. spring assizes, a man named hollingsworth was indicted for stealing sheep and lambs, the property of william lilley, at therfield. the jury found the prisoner guilty and "the awful sentence of the law was pronounced upon him," so says the chronicle--and at the july assizes in the same year, francis anderson, for stealing one ewe lamb, the properly of edward logsden, at therfield, was found guilty and "sentence of death was recorded." at the cambs. assizes in , george parry was indicted for sheep-stealing at hauxton, and the judge "passed the awful sentence of death," remarking that the crime of sheep-stealing had so increased that it was necessary to make a severe example. one of the most remarkable adventures of the pursuit of horse-stealers in this district occurred in , and actually formed the subject of a small book [now before me] bearing the following curious title:-- "the narrative of the persevering labours and exertions of the late mr. owen cambridge, of bassingbourn, cambs., during his search for two horses, stolen from his stable in october and november, ; during which search he very unexpectedly found a pony which had been stolen from the stable of his neighbour, mr. elbourne; printed by particular request. the royston press: printed, published, and sold by j. warren." if the reader is inclined to smile at a book with the strangest title that perhaps was ever put upon a title page, it should be said that the adventure recorded in this little book of thirty-two pages is really a most remarkable one, than which no "bow street runner" of those days, to say nothing of the modern police officer with the advantages of railways and telegraphs, had a stiffer task of detective work, or ever more distinguished himself for perseverance, energy and resource, than did mr. owen cambridge in this memorable affair with its innumerable { } journeys by coach to london, and to almost all the fairs in the home counties, at a cost of upwards of l . the result was that many other crimes were brought to light, and a gang of horse-stealers was broken up; two of them were sentenced to death at the beds. assizes, and the one who stole mr. cambridge's horses was sentenced to death at cambridge, but, upon mr. cambridge's plea for mercy for the prisoner, sentence was commuted. it is perhaps worth placing on record that after the extraordinary searches, covering several weeks in london and elsewhere, mr. cambridge found the thief at home in his garden in oxfordshire, passing as a respectable horse-dealer. perhaps the most interesting case of a local character of capital punishment for highway robbery with violence and sheep-stealing combined, was one which occurred to a royston gentleman, for which it is necessary to travel a dozen years beyond the reign of george iii. at the cambridge summer assizes in was tried a case of highway robbery and sheep-stealing, which was one of the last cases of sentence of death being inflicted for these offences. the accused were john nunn, simeon nunn, the younger, and ephraim litchfield, labourers, of whittlesford. the facts as deposed to at the assizes were briefly these:--the late mr. henry thurnall, of royston, was in that year an articled clerk to messrs. nash and wedd, solicitors, royston, and was frequently in the habit of going from royston to his then home at whittlesford, to spend the sunday. on this occasion business in the office had detained him later than usual, and he started from royston to drive home in a gig about p.m. on the saturday night. near the plantation between thriplow and whittlesford parish two men rushed out, seized the reins and said, "we want all you have," and just as he jumped out of the gig to defend himself a third man struck him and knocked him down and stunned him. a further struggle, however, and more blows ensued, and he was able in the struggle to identify the three men, who did not leave him till they had made him stand up with his arms extended, rifled his pockets, and then, left him covered with blood and fainting on the road, not knowing who it was that they had been robbing. mr. thurnall was able to walk home, though bleeding very much, and after dressing his wounds, he, his father and others, watched for the accused, and seeing them returning at dawn to their homes, the men dropped sacks they were carrying, and these sacks were found to contain each a fresh-killed sheep from the fold of mr. faircloth. at the next cambs. assizes, as stated above, all three were found guilty and sentenced to be hung. mr. thurnall pleaded for the lives of the men, who belonged to his own parish, but the home secretary, lord melbourne, wrote that their case was too bad to admit of any mitigation of the punishment, and the day was appointed for their execution. the poor fellows were desirous { } of seeing mr. thurnall, and he went to cambridge gaol to take leave of them, and they thanked him for his exertions on their behalf, and assured him that had they known him on the night of the robbery nothing would have induced them to attack him! shortly afterwards their sentence was commuted to that of penal servitude for life. the counsel for the prosecution in this painful case was mr. gunning, a well-known name in cambridgeshire, and it may be of interest to add that i have gleaned the above facts from the brief used by counsel on that occasion, which has been kindly placed at my disposal by mr. h. j. thurnall. one of the most painful cases of capital punishment for small offences occurred in royston about - , when quite a young girl from therfield, living in service in a house now let as an office in the high street, royston, robbed her employer of some articles in the house, and was sentenced to death at hertford, and hung. this case created a profound impression in the town, and for many years afterwards the case "of the poor girl who was hung" was remembered as an instance of the severity of the law. the time came when this wholesale sentence of death for various offences became more a question of the letter of the law than a satisfaction of the public sense of justice, and out of a batch of prisoners receiving sentence of death the judge often reprieved the majority, and some of them before leaving the assize town. the result was that though in many cases there was hope when under sentence of death, there was a large number of persons, often young people, placed under dreadful suspense. the most striking case of the kind in this district was that of the fate of a melbourn gang of lawless young men. about , several desperate young fellows linked themselves together and became so bold in terrorising the inhabitants as to openly express their intention to provide themselves with fire-arms and use them rather than be taken. eventually their time came, when they broke into the house of a man named tom thurley, a higgler, living near the mill stream. the properly they stole was nothing of great value--chiefly some articles of clothing, &c.--and they were disturbed at their game and had to bolt. in order to get rid of the evidence against them they hid the stolen things in the spinney which then grew where the gas-house now stands, just by the mill stream bridge. they were arrested, and at the cambridge assizes five or six of them were sentenced to death! the result of the trial produced a deep impression in the village. the sentence was afterwards respited and they were transported for life; their last appearance in the village being when they rode through on the coach bound for london, and thence to the convict settlement. one or two others were transported for other offences soon after, and the gang was completely broken up. { } of the convicts, two sons were out of one house--one of the old parish houses which then stood in the churchyard. forgery was an offence punished with death, and one of the latest cases was that of a young man from meldreth parish, who went up in as clerk in mr. mortlock's warehouse in oxford street, forged his master's signature to a cheque, was sentenced to death and hung at newgate, despite the exertions of his employer to save his life. we sometimes hear, in these days of advanced education, that we are educating young people beyond the station they can possibly attain, and that we may find the cleverness expend itself in forging other people's names and signatures to obtain money without that honest labour by which their parents were content to earn a livelihood. the evidence, however, is altogether the other way. the number of forgeries committed before national education began, notwithstanding the fear of being hung for the offence, was incalculably greater than it has ever been since. in the matter of bank notes alone, the number of forged motes presented at the bank of england in was no less than , . by , the number of forged notes presented had dwindled down to . the number of executions for the whole country for the three years, ending , were ; for the same period, ending , only ; and by they had decreased to . many of these sentences were the results of crimes committed in the revolt against the introduction of machinery. chapter ix. old manners and customs--soldiers, elections and voters--"statties," magic and spells. in glancing at the manners and customs which prevailed during the later georgian era, i find several matters arising out of what has gone before, waiting for notice. prison discipline was evidently very different from our notion of it, for in we find prisoners in the cambridge county gaol stating that they "beg leave to express their gratitude to the right hon. charles yorke for a donation of five guineas." if these little indulgences could be obtained in a county gaol it may be imagined that the parochial cage sometimes lent itself to stratagems for the benefit of the prisoner. at the old cage on the west side of the present parish-room in royston, herts., many persons living remember some curious expedients of this kind. while the prisoner was waiting { } for removal to the buntingford bridewell (situate in the wyddial lane not far from the river bridge) to undergo his fortnight of such hard labour as the rules of that curious establishment exacted--while waiting in the cage the prisoner's friends would help him in this way. above the door of the cage were some narrow upright openings, and through this a saucer was inserted edgewise, the prisoner took it and held it, while, by means of a teapot and the thrusting the spout through the openings, a good "drink" could be administered, according to the appetite of the prisoner! in a former chapter, reference was made to the penal side of obtaining men for the army, and i may here mention that an instance of the all-powerful operations of the press-gang was actually brought home to an old roystonian, who, while crossing london bridge, was seized and made to serve his seven years! though the regular mode of enlistment had less of this arbitrary character it was, nevertheless, often very burdensome in our rural districts and led to some curious expedients for meeting its demands. the chief constable of the hundred served a notice upon the overseers, and sometimes the number required was not one for each parish, but a demand was made upon two parishes. as in the chief constable served an order upon barkway and little hormead acquainting them that one man was to be raised between them, and that the overseers were to call a meeting of the principal inhabitants to consider "the most speedy and effectual means of raising the said man." this system of allowing discretion as to how the said man, or men, were to be provided, sometimes did not answer, for in the parishes of little hormead and barkway are jointly credited with paying "the sum of l s. d., being the average bounty and fine for their default in not providing their quota of men for his majesty's army." the following, under date , will show how the parish generally set about raising the said "man." "twenty-five guineas bounty. wanted immediately, one man for the parish of w----, cambridgeshire, to serve either in the army or the navy. apply to the overseers of the parish." in some cases twenty-five pounds and a silver watch were offered. under more urgent circumstances when men had to be drawn by lot, the hardship which must often be occasioned was got over by men joining a sort of insurance society against compulsory service. with head-quarters in london and agents in the provinces, this society, upon the payment of s. d., gave a receipt guaranteeing to provide the requisite bounty to purchase a substitute in case the men so insuring should be drawn for the army or navy, and a large number paid into it. { } in a ware notice reads: "a bounty of guineas for men and l s. d. for boys, offered for completing his majesty's royal marines." two entries in the royston parish books show that in the sum of l s. d. was paid to defray expenses in providing two men for the navy; and in , a further sum of l "for not providing a man for the army." sometimes cavalry were drawn for, but the system of drawing for men by lot chiefly applied to the militia, for which purpose the parish constable was to present to the justices "a true list in writing of all men between the ages of and years, distinguishing their ranks and occupations, and such as laboured under any infirmities, in order that the truth of such infirmity might be inquired into [for they frequently did feign infirmities!] and the list amended." the drawing took place at arrington (at the "tiger"), and at buntingford, and the old constable's accounts show frequent entries of "caring the list of the milshe" (militia) to buntingford or arrington. accommodating soldiers on the march was more burdensome to the civil population than now, because they were not only billeted in the town but their baggage had to be conveyed from place to place by farmers' wagons, &c., requisitioned by the chief constable, through the petty constables, who frequently went as far as wallington and outlying parishes to "press a waggon" for this purpose, a system which was responsible for such curious entries as these: paid the cunspel for hiern of the bagges wagon for rigt. to hunting [huntingdon] . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . other entries were such as going to wallington to press a waggon to carry the baggage from royston to stotfold, a part of the th redgment . . going to bygrave to press a cart to carry three deserters from royston to weare, belonginge to the gards . . . . . . it was customary not merely for soldiers to be billeted in our old town _en route_, but they were quartered here for much longer periods. thus in we learn that regiments from warley camp were ordered into winter quarters--the west suffolk at hitchin, stevenage and baldock, and the west kent at royston, stotfold and walden, and in the cambridgeshire militia were ordered into winter quarters at royston and baldock. coming to matters more affecting the civil population, elections, voters and voting afforded as great a contrast compared with the present as in anything that has gone before. possibly the ripest stage of the old wine of political life was during the last ten years of the old pre-reform era, just before the new wine began to crack the old { } bottles; but though the best glimpses of actual election work should be deferred to a later chapter, there are some incidents belonging to the early years of the century which cannot be well passed over. at the first glimpse of the old order one is struck with the intensely personal end of political life, if such a word may be used. what therefore by courtesy was called an election of a member of parliament, was more a question of who a man was than of what opinion he held, if any. this was how an election was often managed in the old time, when a man needed a large fortune to face a contested election:-- "at a very respectable and numerous meeting of the freeholders of the county [cambridge] at the shirehall on monday last, in pursuance of advertisement, for the high sheriff to consider the proper persons to represent them in parliament, sir john hynde cotton proposed charles yorke, esq., brother of the earl of hardwicke, and was seconded in a very elegant speech by william vachell, esq. general adeane was next nominated by jeremy pemberton, esq., who was seconded by the rev. mr. jenyns, of bottisham, and both nominations were carried unanimously." the address returning thanks for the election was inserted in the same paper as the above account of the meeting, and the affair was ended! if a candidate had thoughts of contesting an election he had to consider not merely whether he held political opinions likely to command a greater support from the electors than his opponent's, but whether he could afford to spend as much money upon the contest! it was not customary to hold meetings in every place as now. county meetings were the order of the day, but roystonians were not shut out of the fray which attended elections. the candidates, or their friends, came round to secure the vote and interest of the voter; at the same time giving the latter a ticket for himself and several for his friends. on going to cambridge or hertford, as the case might be, the holders of the tickets found any of the public-houses of _their colour_ open to them, and the royston voter and his friends, or the village voter, often did not return till after several days' jollification, and other accompaniments of an election in the good old times, when beer and wine flowed like a fountain! the old style of election address was a very different thing from the political catechism which the unfortunate candidate has to put himself through in these days. "if i should be so happy as to succeed in this the highest object of my ambition, i will faithfully discharge the important duties of the great trust reposed in me, by promoting to the utmost of my power your welfare and prosperity. i am, &c." { } such was the sum and substance of nearly all the election addresses in the pre-reform bill period. as easy as applying for a situation as a butler or confidential clerk was obtaining a seat in parliament, given plenty of money and a few backers. it is possible to read through whole columns of these addresses without finding expressions of opinion upon political questions, or any reflection of what was taking place in public life at the time! happy candidates! whose political capital was all sugar and plums; and who, haunted by no dread of that old scarecrow of a printed address with a long string of opinions bound to come home to roost, looking out in judgment upon you in faded but still terribly legible printer's ink from every dead wall--at least, had only to get past that rough batch of compliments, "the tempest of rotten eggs, cabbages, onions, and occasional dead cats," at the hustings, and you were a legislator pledged simply to "vote straight!" fortunately for the candidate the freeholders, who were entitled to vote and could at a pinch put their own price upon their votes, and get it, were not numerous. the poll for the county of cambridge would, at a general election, now, i suppose, be about , , but in , at a very warm contest, the poll was only , . in the general election that year, which was contested in cambridgeshire, the parish of great abington, out of inhabited houses, sent three freeholders to record their votes at cambridge, and little abington, out of inhabited houses, polled four freeholders at the same election. in the old days of "vote and interest" the canvass was regarded as a much more certain criterion than to-day. thus in a hertfordshire candidate issued an address in which he candidly stated, "after a success upon my first day's canvass equal to my most sanguine expectations, i had determined to stand the poll, but finding myself yesterday less fortunate, i have resolved to decline," &c., &c. one advantage about an old fourteen days' contest was therefore that if a candidate found that he could not secure enough votes he could retire from the contest and "needn't buy any." before the passing of the reform bill, elections were not only protracted and attended with open bribery, revelry, rowdyism, and popular excitement, but the machinery for arriving at the wish of the constituency was also of a very rough and ready kind. if, for instance, a voter was objected to, the sheriff's assessor, a barrister, was found sitting in a room adjoining the hustings for the pin-rose of hearing and deciding the claim, the objecting and affirming party being allowed to appear before such assessor by counsel. the following incident is, i imagine, almost, if not quite, unique in electioneering annals, and could only have been possible under the protracted contests, and the system of revision of claims which has just been mentioned. it occurred in { } the cambs. contested election for , and is thus recorded in the _cambridge chronicle_ for that year. "at the late election for this county a very singular circumstance happened. a voter died immediately after his return home, and his son came the third day [of the election] and voted for the same freehold, which was allowed by both parties." the condition of the rural peasantry a hundred years ago fell immeasurably short of the opportunities for recreation afforded at the present time, but there were not a few bright spots in the year, which, whatever we may think of the manner of the enjoyment, did afford very pleasant anticipations and memories to even the peasant folk in the villages. by custom these periodical feasts, for they generally resolved themselves into that, became associated with certain seasons, and of these none held a more important place than the annual michaelmas "statty," that is, the annual statute fair, of some central village or town where, to quote an old hertfordshire ballad, there's dancing and singing and fiddling and ringing, with good beef and pudding, and plenty of beer. hither came the lads and lasses just free from a year's hiring and--the lads with whip-cord or horse-hair banding round their hats to indicate their accomplishments with horses, &c.--ready to enter upon a fresh engagement with the old or with a new master for the coming twelve months. sturbitch fair is not the only place which has been proclaimed by dignified officials, for in the old time many country fairs, which had no mayor and corporation to fall back upon, were thought of sufficient importance to engage the services of the town crier or beadle, and in some places this was the kind of proclamation that ushered in the fair:-- o yez! o yez! the fair is begun, there shall be no arrest, till the fair is done. arrest for debt should, i suppose, be understood, for the stocks invariably received as much company as they could hold on such occasions. in some cases the "statty," or fair, was proclaimed by printed notice issued by the chief constable of the hundred, and others even by those responsible for obtaining situations for pauper children, to whose interest it was that such a convenient means of bringing people together should be kept up. in the year i find the royston parish committee passing this resolution:-- "ordered that for the future such boys and girls as are in the workhouse and fit for service be taken to the neighbouring statutes for the purpose of letting them for service." { } generally each printed announcement by the chief constable of a statute fair for hiring within his hundred concluded with the intimation--"dinner on table at two o'clock, price s. d. each." from the last named item i conclude that the dinner on the table was intended for employers who could afford the s. d., and also, i believe, for the parish constables of the hundred whose " s. d. for the constabel's fest" so frequently occurs in parish accounts. a number of these announcements before me all end in a similar strain, but i give one specimen below-- puckeridge statute for hiring servants, will be held at the bell inn, on friday, the rd of september, , _thomas prior, chief constable._ dinner on the table at two o'clock. may-day observances may perhaps appear a too hackneyed topic for a place in these glimpses, and yet they were very different from present day observances. the "may-dolling" by children in the streets of royston as every first of may comes round is clearly a survival of the more picturesque mummeries of the past. there is this in common, in all the procession of mayers through the ages, that their outward equipment has always sought some little bit of promise of greenery from nature's springtide, and rather a large piece of the human nature which runs to seed in the oriental "backsheesh"--a picturesque combination of blessing and begging. the "mayers' song," and its setting in this district, was something like the following:--at an early hour in the morning a part of the townspeople would parade the town singing the mayers' song, carrying large branches of may or other greenery, a piece of which was affixed to the door of the most likely houses to return the compliment. sometimes delicate compliments or otherwise were paid to the servants of the house, and, if not in favour with the mayers, the former would find on opening the door in the morning, not the greeting of a branch of "may" but a spiteful bunch of stinging nettles!--a circumstance which caused servants to take a special interest in what they would find at their door as an omen of good fortune. during the day the mayers' procession went on in a more business-like form, with sundry masked figures, men with painted faces--one wearing an artificial hump on his back, with a birch broom in his hand, and the other in a woman's dress in tatters and carrying a ladle--acting the parts of "mad moll and her husband." two other men, one gaudily dressed up in ribbons and swathed in coloured bandages and { } carrying a sword, and another attired as a lady in a white dress and ribbons, played the part of the "lord and lady." other attendants upon these followed in similar, but less imposing, attire. with fiddle, clarionet, fife and drum, a substantial contribution from the townspeople was acknowledged with music and dancing, and a variety of clownish tricks of mad moll and her husband. we thus see that the chubby-fisted little fellows who, not possessing even a doll, rig out a little stump of an old sailor or soldier, or even a bunch of greenery on a stick, as well as the girls who now promenade their dolls of varying degrees of respectability, have an historical background of some dignity, when, on the morning of the first of may, they line our streets and reflect the glories of the past to an unsentimental generation which knows nothing of "mad moll and her husband." the following are some verses of the mayers' song-- remember us poor mayers all, and thus we do begin, to lead our lives in righteousness, or else we die in sin. * * * * a branch of may we have brought you, and at your door it stands, it is but a sprout, but it's well budded out. by the work of our lord's hands. * * * * the moon shines bright and the stars give light, a little before it is day; so god bless you all, both great and small, and send you a joyful may! plough monday and its interesting connection with the return of the season for field work of the husbandman, and its modern relic of perambulating the streets with a plough for largess, has practically passed away as a custom and has long since lost its sentiment. another curious observance connected with the harvest was in full swing at the time of which i am writing; viz., the "hockey" load, or harvest home. many persons living remember the intense excitement which centred around the precincts of the farmhouse and its approaches, when it was known that the last load of corn was coming home! generally a small portion, enough to fill the body of the cart, was left for the last load. upon this the men rode home, shouting "merry, merry, harvest home," which was a well understood challenge to all and sundry to bring out their water! through the village the light load rattled along at a great pace, while from behind every wall, tree, or gatepost along the route, men, women and even children, armed with such utensils as came ready to hand, sent after the flying rustics a shower of water { } which continually increased in volume as the hockey load reached the farm-yard, where capacious buckets and pails charged from the horse pond brought up a climax of indescribable fun and merriment! the next in order of the seasons, manners, and customs are the summer and autumn feasts and fairs. of the fair held at anstey, the following is an announcement of seventy years ago-- anstey fair, on thursday, july th, . a tea kettle to be bowled for by women. a gown to be smoked for by women. a shift to be run for by women. a share to be ploughed for by men, at mr. hoy's at the bell, at anstey. how far smoking by women was a habit, or how far it was a device to contribute to the fun of the fair, cannot very well be determined--probably there was in it a little of both. the following poetical announcement is another type-- _a muslin gown-piece_, with needle work in, for girls to run for; for the first that comes in: to _sing for ribbons_, and _bowl for a cheese_; to _smoke for tobacco_, and _shoot_--if you please; for a _waistcoat_ or _bridle_, there's asses to run; and a _hog to be hunted_, to make up the fun! the regulation of licensed houses was not quite so strictly attended to under the dogberry _régime_ as we have it to-day. on the occasion of the royston fairs, more particularly ash wednesday, and i think michaelmas, a tippler could obtain beer at almost any house around the bottom of the warren, and even when the supervision became less lax, within the memory of many persons living, the private residents had got so much accustomed to the practice, that they kept it up by a colourable deference to the law which led them to sell a person a piece of straw for the price of a pint of beer and then give them the beer! so rooted had this habit become under the laxity of the old system that many persons, i believe, deluded themselves with the belief that somehow or other they were only exercising their birthright conferred by charter in ages that are gone! charters did sometimes grant some curious things, but i believe i am right in saying that the charters conferred upon the monks, who were the original governors of royston, contain no such easy way of evading the licensing laws of the th century! this kind of thing happened at other "feasts" and looks a little more like barter than charter. in some other respects, however, the old dogberry _régime_ was more strict than the present. thus for the fifth of november in { } the first quarter of this century we find the following for royston-- "ordered that notice be given that the law will be enforced against all persons detected in letting off squibs, crackers, or other fireworks in the street or any other part of this town, and that the constable be ordered to inform against any person so offending." stage plays were not unknown, and whether by strolling players or some local thespians "she stoops to conquer" was a favourite among ambitious flights, with a lively tail end of such tit-bits as "bombastes furioso," "the devil to pay," and "the transformations of mad moll," &c. intimately bound up with manners and customs was, of course, the lingering belief in witches, fairies, brownies, drolls, and all the uncanny beings which george stephenson's "puffing billy" has frightened away into the dark corners of the earth! the subject is too broad for general reference here, but there are a few local remnants of the "black arts" which stamped their devotees as being in league with the evil one. during the last century, when such large numbers of felons for various crimes found their way to the gallows, there appears to have been an idea prevalent that if any woman would agree to marry a man under the gallows he would be entitled to pardon, and under the influence of this curious notion, a man executed at cambridge in , just before the fatal moment arrived, seeing a woman in the crowd whom he knew, called out to her "won't you save my life?" this tragic fashion of popping the question was not effectual in this case, for the man was hung! the use of charms for curing diseases was of course in operation. perhaps the most unique of these was the plan apparently adopted by the "celebrated skilful woman at shepreth." who the skilful woman of shepreth was i am unable to say, but we may perhaps infer the nature of her fame and skill from the fact on record that a man, who was said to be one of her descendants, did in , when called in to see a butcher who had run a meat hook into his hand, carefully dress the offending hook from day to day with healing ointment, &c., and left the man's hand alone till it got so bad that a surgeon was called in and had to perform an operation! there were later examples of the remarkably skilful woman of shepreth--the "wise woman" at fulbourn; "the wise woman in the falcon yard," at cambridge; and i have no doubt almost every village had at least by repute its wise woman who could, for a consideration, unravel all mysteries about stolen property, malicious injuries, and a host of things amenable to the black art often vulgarly called witchcraft, in the name of which perfectly innocent creatures had in a previous age got a ducking in a horse pond, if nothing worse! { } when pretenders of this stamp, and more innocent and less designing individuals, who were guilty of nothing worse than an imperfect use of herbal medicine, were suspected of evil influences, it is not surprising that the studious who ventured to investigate the mysteries lying beyond the common run of information should get a share of that peculiar homage which ignorance paid to knowledge. there were, here and there, individuals, the record of whose eccentricity opens up for us vistas into the marvellous domain of magic and mystery which cast its glamour of romance over the old world of the alchemist in pursuit of the philosopher's stone. one of the most remarkable of latter-day disciples of peter woulfe, of whom some interesting particulars are given in timbs' _modern eccentrics_, has a peculiar claim to notice here, if only for having for many years pursued his studies and experiments in the neighbourhood of hitchin. as late as , twenty years after the death of peter woulfe, who was thought to be the last of the true believers in alchemy, sir richard phillips visited an alchemist at lilley, near hitchin, named kellerman, who was believed by some of his neighbours to have discovered the philosopher's stone, and the universal solvent! his room was a realization of tenier's "alchemist." the floor was strewed with retorts, crucibles, alembics, jars, and bottles of various shapes, inter-mingled with old books. this worthy had not only bettered all the work of his predecessors, but had, after repeated failures, at last made gold; and, what was more, he could make as much more as he pleased, even to the extent of paying off the national debt! in justification of his singular pursuits, kellerman quoted roger and francis bacon, paracelsus, boyle, boerhave, woulfe, and others, and claimed that he had discovered the "blacker than black" of appollonious tyanus, which was the powder of projection for producing gold! it further appeared that kellerman had lived in these premises at lilley twenty-three years, during fourteen of which he had pursued his alchemical studies, keeping eight assistants to superintend his crucibles, two at a time relieving each other every six hours; that he had exposed some preparation to intense heat for many months at a time, but that all his crucibles had burst except one, which kellerman said contained the "blacker than black." one of his assistants, however, protested that no gold had ever been found; and so, even persevering old kellerman, the last of his race, who dared to speculate with the iron horse just behind him, disappears from the scene, discredited by the phillistines, who calculate but never dream! { } chapter x. trade, agriculture and market ordinaries. one of the most interesting, as well as significant things about old-time studies, is the evolution of industry, from the stage, when each domestic hearth was a factory of some sort, to vast cotton mills and iron foundries. time was when the wool from the sheep's back was made into cloth in every house in royston, then the finishing processes of fulling and dyeing were made a business of elsewhere, then with the introduction of machinery the hand-loom disappeared from our cottages to special centres; next the spinning disappeared; then the combing, and last of all the wool-sorting went too, leaving nothing but sheep shearing of what was a complete local industry, with as many centres as there were formerly houses to work in and families to work. the only thing that is dimly visible in these glimpses, of that universal woollen industry, is the picturesque figure of our great-grand-mother at the spinning wheel--not merely as a piece of domestic economy, but as a wage-earning tool employing children as well as adults, just as straw plaiting became in this and the adjoining bedfordshire district when the spinning industry disappeared. in , the first year in which any disbursements are mentioned in the royston parish books, the first item was the granting of a spinning wheel to nan dodkin by the vestry. weaving proper had ceased at this date, but a great deal of business was done in royston towards the end of last century in the "hemp dressing, sack weaving and rope making branches," as i learn from an auctioneer's announcement of a property sale in . during the reign of george iii. hand-spinning was an industry throughout this district, and at most cottage doors in the villages could be seen wheels busily turning, up to about . the pay was not great, but the employment was more seemly than that of dragging mothers of families and young girls into the fields as one often sees { } them at the present time. the evidence of the spinning industry is conclusive from the parish accounts alone in such entries as-- "ordered that thomas c---- and his family be permitted to leave the workhouse, the overseers to buy them a pair of old blankets and a new wheel." "ordered that the overseers of herts. buy and lend to the widow s---- a wheel for the purpose of setting her boy to work." l s. d. spinning wheles for the widow d---- . . . paid for spinning lb. of flax . . . . . to mending a weel . . . . . . . . . . . . new, spendels and wool for g----'s family the parish accounts in the villages show that wool for spinning was supplied in small quantities, apparently by small shop-keepers who took the yarn, which was again bought by the dealers and sent away for weaving to the newly established mills--pretty much in the same way as the straw plaiting industry was managed in after years. occasionally spinners were dishonest, and spun short measure, and associations were formed for punishing the offence. in every better class house a wheel was found by which the mistress would spin the yarn, which was then sent away to be woven into the family linen, and a very necessary part of the preparation for married life was this spinning of a supply of yarn and sending it away to the weaver. a full chest of table linen was as precious to the farmers' wives as mrs. tulliver found hers, and home-spun linen was as much a matter of pride as the cheese-making itself; so much so that servants in farm houses were invariably placed at the wheel to fill up their spare time. the earnings of the poor spinners could not have been very great, for in essex in "a stout girl of fifteen or sixteen" was not able to earn above d. a day. when the industry disappeared as a wage-earning employment, parochial workhouses turned their attention to teaching children straw plaiting, and plaiting schools were subsidised by overseers for this purpose. wool-combing, the next process of employment, was better paid, but later on this too disappeared from our town and neighbourhood, owing to the march of inventions, leaving the last stage of the industry, viz., the wool-sorter's occupation, which continued some time longer. this process of sorting was one which required an experienced eye to detect the different qualities of fibre, and nimble fingers to separate them. a fleece of wool was thrown open on a bench and an expert would, with surprising speed and dexterity, separate the fibre into about four different qualities and throw them into as many baskets standing by to receive them. after this, as in the combing days, it was sent off by the { } wakefield wagons to the mills in the north, and buyers continued to visit royston, and wagons load up here, until about the middle of this century, the last of the wool-staplers being mr. henry butler, whose warehouse was in kneesworth street, where mr. sanders' coachbuilder's yard now is. with the appearance of the railway our "spinning grandmothers" were a thing of the past. agriculture in the georgian era differed somewhat in its appliances, but the philosophy of it was pretty much the same as it is now. oxen were occasionally used for team labour and were shod like horses; wheat was universally reaped with a sickle, and as universally threshed with a flail, the bent figure of the wheat-barn tasker being a familiar object in the "big old barn with its gloomy bays and the moss upon the thatch." an honest pride he took in his work and has found a fit memorial in the delightful _sketches of rural life_ by mr. francis lucas, of hitchin, who says of the tasker and his work-- then let our floors send up the sound, of the swinjel's measured stroke, it makes the miller's wheel go round, and the cottage chimneys smoke. one of the most interesting things about rural life was the common herding of the cattle, which, until the enclosures act came, had probably gone on from the time the domesday book was written, or longer. all through the ages there is the picturesque glimpse of the old herdsman with his horn, each morning and evening from may to october, making his procession to the common land of the village, past homesteads, from whose open gates the cow-kine, in obedience to the blast of the horn, walk out and join their fellows, and at evening the herd in returning dropped its ones, twos, and threes at every farmyard gate--like children going to and from school! the animation among the cattle in and about every farmyard in the village, when, after six months' silence, the herdman's horn was heard once more, was a sight to remember, and a remarkable instance of the sagacity of animals! farmers' wives were accustomed, up to the beginning of the present century, to attend the market to sell their cheese and butter, as in derbyshire they do now, and the work connected with the accidental discovery of the royston cave, it will be remembered, was for the accommodation of these good dames. farmers at this time had few new notions or agricultural shows to set them thinking, but farmed according to "the good old ways," leaving to here and there a gentleman farmer, farming his own land, such hair-brained schemes as went contrary to them, their plea being that "farmers did not rear the worse turnips nor were longer fatting their oxen without book knowledge than they would be with it." { } but it is when we come to market prices for the farmer's produce that we get, i suspect, at the root and origin of the smooth-sounding phrase of the "good old times when george the iii. was king." of the enormous influence of peace or war upon prices then, and the excitement which news of the one or the other stirred in the breasts of farmers and landlords as they gathered in groups in the yards of the hull, or the red lion, on royston market days, let the following picture testify-- [illustration: reading the news.] below are given a few years of average prices of farmers' produce in grain:-- average prices. wheat. barley. oats. year. s. d. s. d. s. d. { } the year was a famine year, but, after this time, prices never rose so high, ranging for wheat from s. in , and s. in to s. in . though the landlords took their share and nearly doubled rents between and , the farmer had reason to remember the good old times if the following story of a hertfordshire farmer in be true:-- "a wealthy hertfordshire farmer not long ago made application to one of the clerks in the bank of england for the loan of l , and offered to deposit with him, as a security, a bank note of l , , which he then held in his hand! the clerk refused him, saying that such a thing was unusual, at the same time told him he would change it for lesser notes. this, however, did not satisfy the farmer, who still persevered. at his own request he was waited upon by one of the directors, who readily lent him the sum he required; and at the end of eight days he returned, according to his promise, and repaid the money. when he was asked why he had such an attachment to that particular note, he frankly replied, 'because _i have the fellow of it at home_!'" the old style of farmer had the laugh on his side in the matter of balance sheets compared with the farmer of to-day. here is one under date for a farm of acres at a rental of l (the average rent in this district appears to have been about s. to s. an acre, but was more than doubled by the end of the century). it was stocked and worked with cows, sheep, oxen, horses, four servants and boys, eight labourers (average l a year each), and two maids. in the annual expenditure is put down the modest allowance of l for house-keeping of the farmer and his family (exclusive of servants), and the total then comes out at year's produce . . . . . . . . . . . l , expenditure . . . . . . . . . . . . l , ------------- profit . . . . . . . . . . . . . . l trade was not so much an every day affair in those days as now, but persons obtained their supplies in large quantities and on special occasions. in harvest time therefore little was doing at the shops, and the tradesmen in the high street were accustomed to form themselves into neighbouring groups of four or five, and, taking up their position outside their shops, smoked their pipes, while one of their number would read the news, nearly always coloured at that time by the doings of napoleon, or the french. about the beginning of the century, mr. william henry andrews, son of the astronomer, as a man having the most talent for reading, was in particular request at these quiet siestas between the intervals of trade. { } they discussed agriculture and the weather with a relish over their "sixpennyworth," and often laid wagers as to the result of the harvest. here is an item in royston-- " . aug. --mr. bottomley lays s. coxall sixpennyworth that the price of a quartern loaf will be as low as sevenpence the best sort in two months-- th oct. paid." who had to pay there is little doubt, for the bet was a rash one in a season which had seen wheat at s. in that very august. the crop did not realize mr. bottomley's expectations, for the official average for the year was s. d. per quarter, from which we infer that mr. bottomley paid his "sixpennyworth." royston market is spoken of in official announcements at the end of last century as "an exceedingly good market town." though the market was open, the inns and inn yards were freely resorted to, especially in inclement weather, and the green man yard was made to do duty to some extent as a corn exchange, for in when the house was to let, we find it stated that it had "large garden and stables and ten corn shops." barley was the chief item of sales, and it is said as much as , quarters has been sold here in a single day. i do not happen to have found any earlier official statistics of corn sales in royston market, but for the year ending july, , i find the following-- total per qr. amount. avge. price. quantity. l s. d. l s. d. wheat-- , qrs. . . . . . , barley-- l, qrs. . . . . . , here then we get a sale of , quarters of barley a week and between and quarters of wheat per week. time was when the royston market had commenced at a late hour, as it does now, but owing to the necessity of being late home, or the felt want of a jovial gathering at the market ordinary in times when the farmer himself worked and needed one day's relaxation, the fiat for change went forth on the rd october, , and the hour was changed from p.m. to a.m.--an arrangement made possibly with a view to the pleasures of the market ordinary, and one under which, at any rate, that institution flourished most famously for fifty years or more. at one time the grain was "pitched," that is brought to the town in bulk and stored at the various inns ready for sale in the market. the attendance of farmers, maltsters, and corn buyers was so large that the whole of the open space of the market hill was covered by crowds of buyers and sellers of farm produce, presenting a busy scene more worthy of the past traditions of the market than anything seen now. { } the market beginning then in good time, by mid-day most of the business was finished, and, regularly at one o'clock there came out of an upper window of the green man, the well-known form and features of mrs. smith, the landlady, ringing a hell with all the energy and promptitude of one who had evidently been accustomed to have that summons respected and as promptly responded to! the bell from the green man is answered by that from the bull and the red lion, and the trio goes on ding dong, ding dong! the current of business and bargain-making slackens; plump portly farmers in top boots, millers in grey suits almost flour-proof, maltsters carrying riding whips--all the busy assembly of men of shrewd common sense and well filled nankeen purses suddenly puts up its sample bags, drops its business air, and, like boys out of school, melts away in three different directions according to individual preferences. for behind that well understood signal of the bells is the typical institution then in its palmiest days--the "market ordinary." leaving the market to the cheap jacks and ballad mongers, the solid element of the market day gives a jovial account of itself in the market rooms of the well-filled hostelries--now learning from the paper the news, so far as it concerned prices and the continuation of war--now discussing crops with a loyalty to the three-course system which no enclosures had yet upset--now with equal loyalty toasting "the king, god bless him," and generally disposing of enough liquid to make the ride home behind dobbin a self-satisfied consummation, finding expression in snatches of the old chorus-- to plough and to sow, and to reap and to mow, and to be a farmer's boy! ah, me! who would not be jolly with a good market this week and the prospect of higher prices next?--with the guarantee of the state that the farmer should not have less than s. a quarter, and the certainty of higher prices if the war lasted! but these farmers in the leather breeches and top boots--these self-satisfied men are already in the fading glory of the "good old times"--always applying those words, in so far as they have any meaning at all, chiefly to the farming and land-owning classes. before the century is much older we shall see the same class harrassed, embarrassed, and eaten up by a rotten and immoral poor law system, about to be mended, and their prospect of high prices growing less and less, as sliding scales and all artificial props are removed out of the way of things finding their own level--down, down, down towards the present unsupportable level of prices when the consumer has as complete a monopoly of advantages as had the producer in the old days! but it was not only of the results, but of the place itself also, that the farmer had a pleasant memory. so much attached were its habitués { } to the old style of an open corn market that when, in later times, the corn exchange came, many complained that they could not tell a good sample of corn in a building like that, so well as in the open air. indeed, so wedded were they to the old custom of open market that when the corn exchange was erected by the then lord dacre, they showed such an obstinate preference for the open market and the convenience of the inns, that they refused for some time to use the new building provided for them! but they got used to it--those that were left to carry on the business of a market, whose traditions, nay, whose history, speaks to us of a former greatness and reputation for trade, in the centuries that are gone, which we can hardly now understand. chapter xi. royston in - .--its surroundings, its streets, and its people. the prospect of royston from its surroundings was, at the beginning of the century, singularly bleak and uninviting in winter time. of the many plantations which now beautify the vicinity of the town, and afford such pleasant walks, not one tree had got on end. the london road, from the top of the town to the sylvan spot now known as the "seven rides," had not a single tree near it, and only one solitary bush standing out on the hill-top against the sky-line, on the summit of what was then a very steep hill through which the cutting has since been made. the hills on the newmarket road, which have also since been cut through, were equally bare and monotonous in colour, at least during most of the year; and the heath was then destitute of those graceful patches of charming spring and autumn natural tints which the plantations of to-day give to the neighbourhood of the church hill, &c. some of the trees along by the ivy farm on the haldock road had been planted, but that was about all there was towards that pretty setting of the old town in tree and foliage, which is such a pleasing view, especially when seen from the hills around the town. the plantations near the heath were carried out by the late mr. henry thurnall, by direction of the trustees of mr. george fordham, and those about the green walk by the lord dacre of those days, who also erected, at the summit of the hill, a kind of summer house which was so badly appreciated by the public that it was taken away. i trust we may at least write respecting these advantages--other days, other manners. { } the same open and exposed character, which left royston in a semicircle of bare hills, was also common to the surrounding parishes where the land still lay in strips, with green baulks between, so that a acre farm was not unfrequently in four or five hundred strips, scattered about the parish, one in this furlong or "shot," and one in that. the country surrounding royston on the line of icknield street, was not only unenclosed, but much of it was heath country--extending from whittlesford to royston on the one hand, and from royston to odsey on the other, and it is a pleasure to add that this fine stretch of open country presented in the spring a perfect picture of golden yellow gorse blossom! the four entrances to the town by the four ancient roads were also very different seventy years ago from their present appearance, with regard to habitations. on the london road on the east side was the rabbit warren, and not a single house from the present vicarage site to gatward's pond, excepting the old workhouse where godfrey terrace now is, and the old pest house just beyond mr. whitehead's stone works. for the rest, the rabbit warren sloped away into the valley (now gardens), where school-boys met and fought out their differences! here was the old claypit, a curious geological feature embosomed in the chalk. paupers and rabbits were the only inhabitants of this end of the town on the cast, and on the west the first house was, as now, the old "horse shoes," on the bank. the last house on the melbourn road was the turnpike near the institute. in baldock street there was nothing on the south side beyond messrs. phillips' brewery, and on the north side nothing beyond the fleet, then a private road-way to the lime kiln and clunch pit, in the occupation of mr. s. eversden, now forming the picturesque dell in the grounds of the rookery (mr. henry fordham's). royston, in cambridgeshire, consisted only of a few houses beyond the old palace, the house now occupied by dr. archer, then a boarding school kept by mrs. raynes, being the last house in royston, cambs. now almost a town has sprung up beyond this spot, upon what were then open fields. this house occupies part of an old burial site around which centres a little mystery and a solid part of the history of our old town. it must suffice here to say that what was in the early years of the century a school for teaching the young idea how to shout, has twice been the residence of a doctor, while beneath its foundations have rested for centuries the ancestors of those who were being tutored and physicked, and that a few years ago upon the removal of earth for enlarging dr. archer's house, so many human remains were disturbed that on the wall of the old cellar (then being enlarged) was a skull of some poor yorick of the middle ages in which a live bat had taken up its abode! { } a few old sites and buildings may be here mentioned. the county court occupies what was then a tinker's shop and a farm-yard behind; the pedal stone of the ancient cross, now in the institute garden, was then at the back entrance to the bull yard, near mr. innes' shop, having been removed from the cross a few years before; the market place could only be approached from the high street, through the inn yards. of the ponds of royston, gatward's pond, on the barkway road, was open and unenclosed. it was not a very savoury bath, but in its turbid depths so many boys used to disport themselves, that it was commonly remarked in the district that royston had no water, and yet more boys learned to swim here than anywhere else in the district. the other more notable ponds were those in kneesworth street, the first where the piece of waste ground now is at the boundary between kneesworth and royston (cambs.) parishes, and one lower down the same street. the pond which gave the most rural aspect to the north end of the town was that in front of the white bear public-house, at the top of the present gas road; a genuine country pond, with a rail around by that part of it next the road--which was then narrowed to half its present width--and on the north side a long baulk or mound about four feet high upon which was a group of trees. the overturning of one of lord hardwicke's carts, laden with boxes, into the pond, and sundry immersions of customers from the white bear in the night time, led to its abolition by the turnpike trust about . the old vicarage house stood in the churchyard, with a public footpath through the churchyard in front of it, and the present church lane at the back. the old malting in kneesworth street, now mr. francis john fordham's coach-house and stables, played an interesting part in the town life--a place of worship, an academy, and a reformer's trysting place. at one end of the old barn-like structure the "ranters" or methodists met for worship, at the other, later on, the late mr. john baker conducted a school, and in this room, reached by a ladder, the first free trade meeting was held in royston, when, it goes without saying, the manchester men, coming within the smell of malt and near a market which had flourished like a green bay tree under the _aegis_ of protection, had a warm reception in this, the only _room_ they could get in the town! but what would a town be without its town hall as the heart and centre of its official life? such a building royston has for many years possessed in the modest red-brick building known as the parish room, on the fish hill. in this case, however, it was not the original purpose for which the building was erected. it was built about the year for the purposes of a school house, and by the contributions { } of gentlemen of the town and country round. it thus became something of a public institution from the first, but when apparently its uses as a school-house became less beneficial to the town it was applied to general parochial purposes. the traditions of the pedagogue were, however, not easily got rid of, for even when the parish had evidently got into the regular custom of using it for meetings, there was at least one person they had to reckon with who stood out stoutly for whatever privilege the original foundation gave him for continuing to teach the young idea how to shoot! the result was that a conflict of a semi-legal character arose over the use of the building as to the right of henry watson who was then using the room under a rather uncertain tenure, but in harmony with the traditions of the place. the outcome was that the vestry triumphed, and the room was put in a proper state of repair for the use of the parish. the streets of the town were the natural drains feeding the stagnant ponds. not only was the church lane an open drain, but the piece of back street, between the cross and kneesworth street, was an open ditch, across which was a plank bridge into the back way of the "coach and horses." the high street had no paving, but only a rough raised path running along next the shops. the condition of the street was such that ladies generally wore pattens and clogs, which were home-made at mr. goode's, and it was no uncommon thing to see gentlemen wearing them also; indeed, this was a much more common sight than to see a gentleman wearing a moustache, which was viewed as a curiosity then. the only person in the town and district then keeping a carriage was squire wortham, in melbourn street. but very little was done in the way of cleaning the streets and the drainage was simple, natural, and unaided by art. a few years later, however, about , a beginning was made towards an improved state of things, and a man was employed to sweep the streets periodically with a besom at the munificent salary of s. d. a year! over the seventy years that have intervened, this pioneer of our town improvements stands out clear and notable with his four-penny besom and basket. that he did good honest work with his birch there is credible testimony in the parochial balance sheets of the period, wherein appear frequent entries, at first of d. and then of d. each, for new besoms, as the value of that commodity advanced with the greater enlightenment and more sweeping reforms of the times! to the same period, the latter part of it, we owe the beginning of that general system of the "petrified kidney" style of pavement which still lingers in places. twopence-half-penny a bushel the material cost our forefathers! but what, in trials of patience and of temper, have they not cost the unlucky roystonians who were destined to walk upon { } them for so long and with so little hope of change? it was a cheap way of serving posterity, but assuredly not a kind one, for the evil of it is that they never wear out! farmers and others paid their highway rates in kind, that is by carting materials, &c., and of this "composition" according to scale, there were seven farmers in royston availing themselves. the first piece of stone paving in our streets was commenced near the cross in . during the earlier years of the century there were no street lamps in our town of any kind, but people were commonly met in the streets on their way to church, chapel, or to the shops, carrying a lantern and, in dirty weather, "clicketting along in pattens." the shop windows were lighted with candles, if at all, and candles were placed upon the counters, with, of course, the necessity of a pause in the casting up of an account or serving a customer, to snuff the candle! later, when gas came--in july of the year --there was here, as elsewhere, some prejudice against its adoption, and some observations on the practical advantages of the employment of coal gas, were addressed to the inhabitants of royston by mr. w. h. nash, secretary to the committee of the royston gas company, and printed and circulated. the price charged for gas was at first s. d. per , feet, and consequently it was an uphill work to supersede the tallow candle and snuffers of our grandfathers! water was hawked round the streets at so much a pailful, though a few wells were open to use on payment, such as that at the white lion, and especially the hoops. the subject of allotments for the labourer is no new thing, for across the space of sixty years come the stentorian tones of the royston bellman to which we may listen with advantage and perhaps derive a lesson from what followed upon his message-- "oyez, oyez, notice is hereby given that the industrious poor, both single and married of this parish, who are desirous of hiring a small piece of land, are desired to apply at the vestry room on the fish hill, to have their names entered to ascertain what each person would like to have." the result was that mr. valentine beldam let acres of land near larman's, or lawman's way, at the upper end of the town, to the overseers at s. an acre, and it was re-let in roods, half-acres and acres at the same price to labourers. for a time the scheme answered well and the state of each man's allotment was reported upon to the vestry; but in it was found that "in consequence of the land hired of mr. valentine beldam, and others, being so badly farmed and the rents generally so far in arrear, that the said land should be given up to the proprietors." { } as to the trade of country towns, there were many more actual makers of things than now, such as tailors and bootmakers, patten makers, maltsters; and there were several academies, as the schools for the middle class were called. thus in royston there were the following:--rev. samuel cautherley, and also mr. yorke, melbourn street; john kent, (gentlemen's boarding,) back street (now mr. a. gosling's); mrs. towne, wife of the minister at the new meeting in kneesworth street ( ); mrs. g. h. raines, ladies' school, melbourn street (and also at one time in the house now dr. archer's in kneesworth street); henry watson, day school, fish hill, (under the vestry room). the old post office at the time of the battle of waterloo, was at a cottage on the london road, opposite white hall, and was kept by mrs. daintry and her daughter. the number of letters was very small and one delivery and collecting of the money for them about ten o'clock in the morning was sufficient. though mail bags were despatched at different hours of the night according to the arrival of the mail coaches, it was thought unnecessary for anyone to be on night duty, but the postmaster, or postmistress, would appear at an upper window in a night cap and let down the mail bag by a stout cord with a hook at the end, from which the coachman would take it. the old rope and hook with which this used to be performed through a small window at the old buntingford post office (late mr. charles nicholls) are, i believe, still in existence. just before the introduction of the penny post we find the post office in melbourn street (master, mr. thomas daintry) closed at ten o'clock, but letters were received "between that hour and eleven on payment of sixpence each"! at that time, however, there was an arrangement known as the "royston penny post," comprising the parishes of barrington, fowlmere, foxton, melbourn, meldreth, shepreth and thriplow. the posting and delivery of a letter was a different affair then from now. envelopes and postage stamps had not been invented. the postage was paid by the person receiving the letter, and it did not depend upon the weight of the letter at all, but upon how many sheets it contained. two very small sheets or small pieces of paper would count as two letters and double postage, but an immense sheet of foolscap, or even folio size, containing many times the writing of the other two, would only count as one, and letters were as a consequence often curious looking documents. as to the cost of postage of a letter the following were the rates prevailing between royston and the places named:--cambridge d., london d., norwich d., huntingdon d., newport d., brandon d., cheshunt d., bedford d., buntingford d. in the few cases { } where persons had friends in america, a letter to them cost s. d.; to gibraltar the cost was s. d., malta and the mediterranean s. d., postage in these cases being prepaid. the charge was based upon a scale according to the distance, commencing with d. not exceeding miles. the transmission of money was "by wagon," and instead of a creditor asking for a remittance by return of post it was "by return of wagon." of the old inns in royston it may be of interest to add that the red lion ball-room continued to be a centre of fashionable gatherings until, with the decay of the posting and coaching business for which the red lion had been chiefly famous, the bull hotel (the same owners) became the leading house. the red lion was afterwards given up, the ball-room, with its associations going back to the old royston club, was removed and re-erected as the present ball-room or billiard-room of the bull hotel, while its rampant lion which had presented a bold face to the high street for more than a century, was removed to a higher position on the top of reed hill, where it now does duty, and has given a sign to the house standing there. here, for the sake of auld lang syne, it gets a bright new coat of paint now and again, and worthily holds its own as the last relic of a famous old inn, around which so much of the public life of the town and neighbourhood had revolved for some generations! the bull was originally the "black bull," and the boar's head the "blue boar's head." the bull had stabling for a hundred horses. the green man was a sign that explained itself when, at the beginning of the century and for some years afterwards, upon an angular sign on the front of the inn, with faces two ways, was the painted figure of a man in the green habit of the archer and forester. the "jolly butchers" or "ye three butchers," on the market hill, and the "catherine wheel," in melbourn street, have ceased to be inns. such was the outward shell of royston in the hectic flush of the "good old times." the taking of the census recently suggests a word with regard to the population of the town and how it was ascertained in times gone by. at least, at one decade ( ) the overseers were paid a penny per head for taking the population. in the population was only , and in it was . further particulars of the population of the town and of the villages in the neighbourhood will be found in an appendix at the end of this book. { } chapter xii. public worship and education--morals and music. when the reforming spirit which brooded over the two centuries touched the subject of education, its advocates became enthusiastic! here is what an old writer said in about a proposal to establish evening schools for the instruction of farm servants:-- "we should hear the humble countryman talk of the heroes of old, catch the patriotic inspiration from the action of his great forefathers, while wisdom would extend her protecting hand and claim the nation for her own"! however much we may be inclined to smile at this grandiloquent prophecy of the fruits of an evening school, in the light of present difficulties of instilling four standards into the bulk of the childhood of the nation, it is impossible to move a step among the footprints of the common people of sixty years ago without finding how enormously the progress of education has transformed the face of society, though not quite on the classic lines of the old writer just quoted. of education for children in the villages there was none at the beginning of the century. over and over again the answers to the bishop of ely's questions in , show that there was no school in the parish, and, as sunday schools were not generally established till many years afterwards, it may safely be said that during the first few years of the present century, not one person in ten of the labouring population could read, much less write. the sunday school movement, the real beginning of the education of the people, both secular and religious, commenced at a very early date in several parts of hertfordshire, but in the beginning these schools were very different from what is now understood by that term. so far as royston is concerned i believe the nonconformists generally claim that they were the first to start a sunday school in the town--that the first sunday school was established in connection with the old meeting, now john street chapel. if by a sunday school is meant what it now means--the voluntary service of lay workers in teaching the children, this may be true, but taking the word in its more general sense of teaching children on sundays, the first step of which i can find any { } record would be that taken by the church people. in july, , there occurs this entry in the royston vestry minute book-- "at this vestry it is considered that the churchwardens do put the galary in proper order for the reception of the children belonging to a sunday school." from the wording of this minute it is evident that the sunday school in question had just been established, and this is confirmed by what follows in the same book-- "boys to be admitted at the age of years and continue to , girls to be admitted at the age of years and continue to ." "the masters to receive the scholars at o'clock in the morning and to go with them to church at . the scholars are to return to school at and go to church at and return from church to school, and _continue there till between five and six o'clock_"! "the master, h. watson, jun., to be paid six guineas a year for his trouble." this sunday school was established during the incumbency of the rev. samuel cautherley, a name still honourably connected with sunday school work in the town. henry watson, who was appointed master of the sunday school, had also the picturesque duty to perform of wielding his ten-foot wand over the heads of the scholars during divine service at church, and for this purpose would walk up and down the aisles, and if any unfortunate youngster did anything wrong, down came the wand, whack, upon the--no, not upon the boy's head but upon the back of the seat, for the boys generally could dodge it! one of the earliest sunday schools established in hertfordshire was at hoddesdon ( ) of which the following rules will perhaps be read with interest by some youthful readers who think an hour in school a trial of patience-- "the children are to appear in the school-room at eight o'clock in the morning during the summer months, and at nine in the winter, and again both summer and winter at half-past two o'clock in the afternoon, with clean face and hands, hair combed, and decently clothed according to the abilities of their parents; to proceed to church, and from thence to school, there to remain receiving instruction till six o'clock in the evening! "the teachers shall receive one shilling per score; and have an assistant when the number requires it." "children not coming to school in time, are to wear a mark inscribed idle boy or girl, in large letters, during church, and the whole or part of the school time. "children behaving ill to wear a mark of naughty boy or girl." { } the old meeting sunday school, established in , appears to have been brought into the shape of an institution by the earlier efforts of the misses nash, daughters of mr. wm. nash, a noted lawyer, whose name is mentioned elsewhere. these ladies first conducted a class for girls in their own house. the school at the old meeting was started with the following committee of management:--rev. john pendered (their minister), james pigott, william clack, william smith, william field butler and henry butler, and the first sunday scholar on the old register i notice was the late mr. john norman, the naturalist; mr. james jacklin being also among the earliest scholars. the sunday school at the new meeting (kneesworth street chapel) was established later by the efforts of mr. stallabrass, a wool stapler, living in melbourn street. the distinction of paid church school teachers and voluntary teachers at the chapels appears to have been kept up for at least years after the schools were established, for in a return was required to be made by the overseers to the house of commons of all schools in their parishes, and from the return made on that occasion by thomas a. butterfield and philip craft (overseers), i give the following:-- "three sunday schools--one church school with scholars, and two dissenters' schools with scholars. a lending library attached to both dissenting schools. in the two dissenting sunday schools the children are taught by gratuitous teachers. church sunday school supported by voluntary contributions; master's salary seven guineas per annum." the above return enables us to compare the growth of sunday schools in the town, and the most striking fact is that while at first the chapel schools were by far the larger, the later figures show a great increase in the church sunday school in particular, and of sunday scholars in general. in we see that the church had only scholars; in it had ; in , the two independent schools had between them, now they have about . in , the total scholars in sunday schools in royston was , now, including wesleyan school, the number is about . to get an exact comparison about two-thirds of the present figures should be taken, as the population of the town in was very nearly (not quite) two-thirds of what it is at present. this basis would give us scholars now against sixty years ago. those who think we may be losing our hold upon the children must remember that we have all this advantage plus the elementary education of the day schools, as compared with sixty years ago, and a comparison with eighty years ago would of course be even more in favour of the present. by the year the relative position of the sunday schools as to scholars was, church school , the three dissenting schools { } --viz., new meeting , old meeting , and unitarian . by , out of a population of , , there were , who could read and write. coming to day schools we find from the same parliamentary return for a date somewhat beyond that assigned me, viz., , the following particulars, as questions and answers, are given-- what number of infant schools, if any? one public lancastrian school, in attendance, on the list; children may enter at a year-and-a-half and remain till or --mistress l a year. what number of daily schools? one lancastrian, in attendance, on the list; enter at years of age and remain as long as their parents please to let them--mistress s. a week. total number of schools of all kinds, . three boarding schools and for day pupils; one for males scholars, one scholars ( males, females); one scholars, ( males, females); one scholars ( males, females); one (male) scholars; six schools for both sexes, to or years of age. what number of schools confined nominally or virtually to the established church? only one sunday school as above. what number of schools confined nominally or virtually to any other religious denominations? four--infant, lancastrian and two sunday schools (independents). of the sixteen schools in the town, of which details of fourteen are given above, none had many pupils; some were virtually dame schools, where the teaching was not often a very elevating process; and too often appealed to the motive of fear, either of a black dog in the cellar or of the assurance that buonaparte was coming! education of the well-to-do was much more local than now, owing to the expense and inconvenience of travel, hence the large number of private schools. of the first day schools where any considerable number of children attended before the present series of public schools was established, the evidence goes to show that they were of the dame school order, remembered best in after years, not by the amount of erudition acquired, but by some of the elder boys who went little errands over the way to the "fox and duck" (now the house occupied by mr. h. clark, market hill), and from the facts that the article they returned with having, by special injunction, to be placed behind the door, that the worthy dame soon afterwards repaired to that corner of the room, the more knowing of the scholars were apt to draw certain conclusions as to the somnulent condition of their instructress and the easy terms upon which a truant boy could get off by going that little errand! but the limited means placed at the disposal of those engaged in the education of children then, compared with our millions of government grant of to-day, do not allow us to judge too harshly of results. { } even where there was some endowment it was generally on too small a scale to do much for a general system of education. at melbourn the first school of this kind assembled in a quaint room at the top of the church porch! at barkway, where the duchess of richmond's endowment led to a free school, this was of so limited a character that in the commissioners' report as late as , the endowment was only l s. d., to which was added l from the town lands, l from the rent of the town house, besides which the tolls of the annual fair, varying from s. to s., were also applied to education, and together seven boys and five girls were being educated at the free school out of a population of a thousand souls, and this was only one year before the national schools were started in ! the germ of public elementary education in royston is associated with the present infants' school and with the honoured name of miss martha nash. the present infants' school was established in . the land upon which it was built was given by lord dacre, and funds for the building were obtained chiefly from a very successful bazaar under the patronage of the then lord and lady dacre. the original trustees of the school were:--edward king fordham (royston), wedd william nash, john phillips, john edward fordham, john george fordham, valentine beldam, john beldam, john butler, thomas butterfield, william hollick nash, joseph pattison wedd, william field butler, james piggot and thomas pickering. the british school was established in , and the building erected on land the gift of lord dacre; the national school was commenced in the same year and the school building also erected on land given by lord dacre. the following is a list of the first trustees of the british school:--wedd william nash, john phillips, john george fordham, john butler, joseph pattison wedd, john medway, s. s. england, f. neller, w. f. butler, john pendered, henry butler, william hollick nash, t. s. maling, james piggot, james richardson, william simmons and thomas a. butterfield. i am unable to give the corresponding list of the first trustees of the national schools, but the following names occur as being present at a meeting soon after the school was founded, and several of them were no doubt trustees, viz., rev. j. whiting (vicar), john phillips, william nunn, henry thurnall, g. smith, ---- brown, sen., r. brown, and d. britten. whatever weight may be attached to the circumstance itself, or to the oft-repeated complaints that religious worship and religious beliefs have not so strong a hold upon the minds of men now as in the past, all the evidence available points unmistakably to the fact of an enormous increase in the habit of attending public worship at the { } present time compared with a hundred years ago, even when the constable went his rounds in our streets to look up defaulters about the town, and "particularly at the cross." there was a marvellous difference in the state of the established church at the end of the last century and to-day. it is a very rare thing now to see a parish without a resident clergyman, but then, clergymen often held two or more parishes without residing in either. in , for instance, the vicar of the two parishes of great and little abington lived in a house of his own at thriplow. the truth is, says an old writer under date, , "that most of the churches within ten miles of cambridge were served by fellowes of colleges." in some cases the curates hastened back to dine in hall. in this way the curates would come out to the parish to a service, to a wedding, a funeral, or a day's shooting, and often served two or three parishes in this free and easy fashion, and it became necessary to limit the service in each parish to alternate sundays. upon this subject and upon the character of the services in many village churches of the time, i am indebted to a very good authority--ms. reminiscences by the late mr. henry thurnall--for the following: "neither whittlesford, sawston, great shelford, newton, hauxton, barrington, or chishill, had a resident minister." as to the character of the psalmody practised in the churches, the same authority says:--at duxford, john and thomas h---- performed on two bassoons anything but heavenly music; at shelford old john m----, the clerk, used to climb up a ladder into a high gallery and there seating himself, often quite alone, and saying "let us sing to the praise and glory of god by singin' the fust four vusses of the th psalm, old vusshun';" and he put on his spectacles and read and sung each verse, frequently as a solo accompanying himself on a bass-viol, said to have been made by himself! at w---- old v---- set the tune with a cracked flute, and on one occasion, when reading the th verse of the grand th psalm, he said:--"there goes the ships, and there is that lufftenant [leviathan] whom thou hast made to take his pastime therein." in an extremely interesting book of reminiscences, which may be cordially recommended to the notice of the reader,--"what i remember," by adolphus trollope, brother of the famous novelist, anthony trollope--there are some interesting glimpses of a parish church and its services in one of the villages in this district at the beginning of this century. the trollopes were related to the meetkerkes, of julians, rushden, and the entertaining author of "what i remember," was, at the time of waterloo, the expected heir to julians, and of adolphus meetkerke, esq., the then head of the family. young trollope visited rushden as a boy and gives us a graphic picture of family life, church services, and the squire of the village { } playing the part of sir roger de coverley. the house-keeping at julians, we are told, was in the hands of "mrs. anne," an old maiden sister of the squire, who, though a prim, precise little woman, sometimes came down to breakfast a little late, "to find her brother standing on the hearth-rug, with his prayer-book open in his hand, waiting for her arrival to begin prayers to the assembled household. he had a wonderfully strong rasping voice, the tones of which were rarely modulated under any circumstances. i can hear now his reverberating, 'five minutes too late again, mrs. anne' 'dearly beloved brethren,' etc.; the change of person addressed, and of subject having been marked by no pause or break whatever, save the sudden kneeling at the head of the breakfast table; while at the conclusion of the short, but never missed prayers, the transition from 'amen,' to 'william, bring round the brown mare after breakfast,' was equally unmarked by pause for change of voice or manner." to this is added a glimpse of the villagers assembled in church under the ministry of the rev. mr. skinner. "whether there was any clerk or not i do not remember," says mr. trollope, "but if any such official existed, the performance of his office in church was not only overlaid but extinguished by the great rough 'view-holloa' sort of voice of my uncle. he never missed going to church, and never missed a word of the responses, which were given in far louder tones than those of the vicar. something of a hymn was always attempted, i remember, by the rustic congregation; with what sort of musical effect may be imagined. * * * * but the singers were so well pleased with the exercise that they were apt to prolong it, as my uncle thought, somewhat unduly, and on such occasions he would cut the performance short with a rasping 'that's enough!' which effectually brought it to an abrupt conclusion. the very short sermon * * * having been brought to an end, my uncle would sing out to the vicar, as he was descending the pulpit stairs, 'come up to dinner, skinner!' and then we all marched out while the rustics, still retaining their places till we were fairly out of the door, made their obeisances as we passed." in this glimpse we miss the genial face of sir roger, but there is nothing in it inconsistent with the village squire of the spectator, indeed, mr. trollope says of the old squire, "he was a good man too, was old adolphus meetkerke; a good landlord, a kindly natured man, a good sportsman, an active magistrate, and a good husband." he was evidently a regular attendant to his magisterial duties on the royston bench, for his clean, linear, and well-written signature turns up frequently in the royston parish books. the meetkerkes descended from a famous dutchman, sir adolphus meetkerke, who was at one time ambassador to england. { } before the tithe commutation act was passed, a very curious piece of work in the harvest field was the paying of the parson by the tithe man going round among the shocks of corn and placing a green bough in every tenth shock, &c., for then the tithe was collected in kind--the tenth shock, hay-cock, calf, lamb, pig, fowl, pigeon, duck, egg, the tenth pound of butter, cheese, and so on through all the products of the land. the inconvenience of this clumsy system was often greatly felt, when a farmer was compelled to delay the carting of his corn simply because the tithe man had not been round to set out the tithe corn, while on the other hand it was obviously impossible for the clergyman to get the work all done at once to suit all parties, and thus when a commutation act came it was a great relief alike to the clergyman and the farmers and landowners, and did away with a longstanding cause of strife and litigation, especially in a town like royston, where a farmer might have tithable produce in several parishes. sometimes the tithe owner found an attempt to impose upon him some of the lean kine, and that the tenth of its kind had a way of differing somewhat from the other nine! when, for instance, in the last century, canon weston was away in durham, his curate, at therfield, on going to brandish to tithe the ringe-wood, found the woodman over anxious for him to begin counting at a certain spot, where the cutting commenced, but suspecting that the ringes had been cooked a little, the wily curate examined them and found every tenth, from the woodman's way of counting _fell upon a very thin ringe_! remonstrances followed and the "tenths" were made up to the same condition of plumpness as the rest, and the curate received the commendation of his superior for so well looking after his affairs! since the date to which the foregoing state of things refers, the established church has had an awakening which has taken a real hold upon and has been influenced by the laity, and has recognised that it has a mission to the people rather than an official routine, facts which are not without significance in their bearing upon what follows with regard to the town of royston, and the relative positions of the church and dissenting bodies. a hundred years ago the nonconformists included most of the wealthy families in the town and neighbourhood. the pulpit at the old meeting (independents) erected in the narrow part of kneesworth street in was occupied at least once a year by robert hall, the great baptist preacher then at cambridge, who was a not unfrequent visitor at the houses of edward king fordham, the banker, and william nash, the lawyer. one of the principal events in the religious life of the town at the end of last century was the division of the congregation of independents at the old meeting. { } the origin of the new meeting, as it was called, was a very small one, and does not look at first like a very serious split in the old congregation. an old paper, still in existence, written apparently and read at the opening of the new meeting, states that "in the year a few of us met at a friend's house a few weeks for prayer and the reading of the word of god; our numbers soon increased and then we met in a barn for a considerable time. we went on till the year , and our numbers still increasing we erected this meeting." at this time the rev. mr. atkinson was the minister. it is evident, however, that the new movement grew apace, and some interest began to be taken in it in the town, for on th february, , we find j. butler laying j. beldam a bottle of wine "that the new meeting house will be begun in six months at royston." evidently mr. butler won his bottle of wine, for on the nd of may, in the same year, the contract for the new building, to be afterwards known as the "new meeting" (kneesworth street) was signed. it is interesting to note the plain, inexpensive kind of building which suited persons assembling for public worship compared with to-day, for the amount of the contract for erecting the building "in a workman-like manner" was only l . this contract was between john stamford, carpenter and builder, on the one part, and on the other part the following gentlemen who were the first trustees:--samuel luke, of royston, cambs., maltster; william stamford, royston, herts., maltster; george fordham, the elder, and george fordham, the younger, both of kelshall, gentlemen; robert hankin, royston, cambs., draper; thomas wells, royston, herts., grocer; thomas trigg, bassingbourn, yeoman; samuel walbey, royston, cambs., maltster; william coxall, bassingbourn, gentleman; john abbott, royston, herts., breeches-maker; abraham luke, royston, cambs., yeoman; and john goode, royston, herts., carpenter. it was for a lath and plaster structure without galleries, and was opened apparently in . the old and new independents continued to work side by side, the new overtaking the old, till , when a serious fire happening on the premises of mr. warren, builder, near the site of the present john street chapel, advantage was taken of the opening thus made, and the site was purchased for a new chapel from mr. john phillips, who, at the same time, by pulling down part of the premises facing high street, threw open the present thoroughfare, which henceforth obtained the name of john street, after mr. phillips. the new chapel, erected on the north side, was built by mr. warren, at a cost of between three and four thousand pounds, and re-placed the old chapel in kneesworth street, which afterwards became converted into dwelling-houses (mr. higgins' shop and houses adjoining). the new chapel, opened in { } by the rev. dr. binney, as preacher on the first sunday, and edward miall, who afterwards became the liberationist m.p., on the next, has an imposing front elevation which it may be of interest to state is taken from the celebrated ionic temple on the south bank of the ilissus at athens. the last meeting house of the society of friends in royston was in royston, cambs., on the east side of kneesworth street, the burial ground of which still remains, with tombstones to the memory of quaker families of former days. the old meeting house stood back from the street, reached by a narrow passage between the cottages, with the small burial ground and a row of lime trees in front. during the first quarter of the century a house in the yard behind mr. hinkins' shop was registered "for preaching in the calvinistic persuasion of dissenters in royston, hertfordshire"; for so runs the written application to the magistrates for the place to be registered as a preaching place. something of the old puritanic feeling still prevailed in the town among the dissenters against amusements as late as the end of the first quarter of the present century. whether it was from the recollection of what popular amusements had been, or against worldliness in general, i know not, but there is a curious instance on record, where, in , a townsman named johnson, had his membership at the new meeting called in question for having joined a cricket club in the town! the offending member defended himself from what he considered the injustice of expulsion, by stating that he saw no evil in cricket, and that the members of the club were "moral men," and that ministers and others had been known to join cricket clubs. the general body of members in meeting assembled, however, refused to relax their view of it, and decided upon his expulsion, but afterwards relented so far as to allow brother johnson to resign, which he did. political meetings belonged more to large centres than they do now--chiefly to the county town--but lest there should be any doubt about what was the prevailing political bias in the town during the first quarter of the century, it has been placed on record that royston was called "radical royston." this soubriquet was probably earned by the large amount of "reforming" spirit which we have seen was thrown into the discussion of abstract questions by roystonians of the time. they probably earned it by their protests rather than by their policy. politics in public meeting were in fact in a bad way at the end of the reign of george iii., when it was made unlawful for anyone to call a public meeting exceeding fifty persons, for the purpose of deliberating upon any public question excepting such meetings were called by the lord lieutenant, sheriff, mayor, or other officials responsible for good order. { } when george iv. came to the throne and divided the opinion of the country upon the subject of his treatment of queen caroline, the boys shared the prevailing differences of sentiment and became "kingites" or "queenites," and occasionally settled their differences in pitched battles after the manner of boys in all ages, in some cases actually wearing their colours--purple for the king and white for the queen. the prevailing sentiment was, however, in royston so much for the queen, that "the first gentleman in europe," notwithstanding his patronage of and comrades in the prize-fighting ring, could hardly find enough champions for a fight, even among the boys. in later years chartism reached royston and caused a flutter in the breasts of those concerned with the _status quo_, for it appears that one joseph peat had "held forth" by permission of the landlord at the "coach and horses." the magistrates had a meeting to prevent the spread of chartism in consequence of this event, and the landlord was sent for and cautioned that if he allowed such a thing again he would lose his licence. the beginning of all positive work set about by negative process is slow, and this, i suppose, would apply to keeping outside a public-house, for the teetotal folk in royston--handicapped, as in other places, by a name that has ever prejudiced and hampered a public movement--found out this to their cost. they did not lack stimulants when they first began to hold meetings, for the opposition camp came to the meeting, took care to come provided, and, fortifying themselves with bottles of beer, raised so much clamour that the recently enrolled policeman had to try his hand at checking intemperance and some broken heads rewarded his exertions. the publicans generally attended the meetings in good force and between the rival parties, instead of applause there was sometimes breaking of windows if nothing worse. the british school was one of the first public rooms used for these meetings. of popular entertainments, as we now understand them, there were very few, not one where we now have a score, and until the erection of the british school no suitable building. it must not, however, be supposed that the town was entirely without the means of occasional recreation. the assembly room at the red lion was still a place of importance for public assemblies, and, for some years before queen victoria came to the throne, this room was the scene of some creditable displays of local talent. this talent took the thespian form, and the tradesmen of the town, banded together as the royston theatrical amateur society, were accustomed to draw the _elite_ of the town and neighbourhood into s. and s. d. seats (nothing less!) while they placed on the boards a rattling good version of _bombastes furioso_ and other pieces in popular favour at the time. { } reference has been made to the reluctance of the parish authorities--once bitten, twice shy--to let the parish room again as a school after the legal difficulty about getting rid of the tenant, but to their credit be it said they made an exception in favour of music--with a proviso. the late mr. james richardson, when a young man, it is on record, applied to the parish authorities "on behalf of several persons forming a musical band of this town, that they may be allowed the use of the vestry room to meet and practise in." "allowed providing they pay the constable to attend and see that everything is left secure and to prevent the boys annoying them or doing mischief to the premises." music, though confined to a few choice spirits beneath fustian and smock frocks in village as well as town, played a much more important part with our grandfathers than is commonly supposed. it may seem a rash statement to make that in some respects we may have degenerated. if we play or sing with better tune or finish it is because we have better appliances, not better brains nor more devoted hearts for music. i am afraid that some of our extensive cultivation of music is a sacrifice of fond parents on the altar of the proprieties, whereas our grandfathers had a soul in their work, and the man with his heart in his work--whether scraping a fiddle, ploughing a furrow, writing an epic, or fighting a battle--must, by all honest men, be awarded the palm. in this over-riding of music as a hobby there is a danger that the salt may lose its savour, for if there is any individual more to be pitied than another it is the so-called musician standing up to play according to the rules of art with no response from the inmost soul of him. i do not think, at any rate, that those of our grandfathers who directed their attention to the fiddle, bass-viol, flute, clarionet, or trombone, could be fairly considered to lay under such reproach, for though their music may have been sometimes flat and sometimes sharp, it was always natural and congenial in the highest degree. these old fellows took down such instruments as they had, not as so many do now, because it was "the thing" to learn music, but because music had found them out for having a love of it, and of the pleasure derived from meeting in a homely circle of kindred spirits. their instruments were often most dissimilar, but their spirit was one! there was a good deal of free masonry and companionable relations existing between these old handlers of musical instruments, and as we hear them in imagination, rattling away round the old spirited fugues which had been carefully "picked out" with quill pen and ink into their old cheque-book shaped "tune books"; or, as we see the picturesque group, now with countenances beaming with delight over some well turned corner which brought up the rear, now mopping their { } brows with a bright red handkerchief, or touching up the old fiddle, after a smart finish, as a man pats a favourite horse, it is not difficult to discover how it was that here and there, and in many places, music took care of itself so well when other things were at a low ebb! saxhorn, trombone, flute, cornopean, clarionet, bassoon, fiddle, bass-viol, and others as various as the dress, trades, and characters of the individuals, made up the old chords of long ago; so well hit off by a writer (j. w. riley) in the _century magazine_:-- i make no doubt yer _new band_ now's a competenter band, and plays their music more by note than what they play by hand, and stylisher, and grander tunes; but somehow--_any_ way i want to hear the _old_ band play! these old players on instruments were nearly always found in the church or chapel choirs. thus in the early years of the century john warren performed the double duty of bass-viol player and parish clerk at the royston church, and later on a rather full band of instruments led the service. a similar, but less organized state of things was found in some village churches. it was the time when the wooden pitch-pipe was in its full glory. this was a square wooden implement, with a scale on one of its sides, upon which the leader blew the key-note, and then running up the octave with his voice--off they went to the tune of some old calcutta, cardiff, or other piece of arduous fugal work! the disappearance of these old village choirs, in which the village blacksmith, the baker, the tailor, and other natives played on the clarionet, bass-viol, bassoon, flute, trombone, and all kinds of instruments, while other grown-up men took their "parts" in those wonderful old fugues that seemed to make the song of praise without end--the absence of all this means a certain loss of that passion for music which has never been thoroughly recovered! we have many more players and singers now than in the past, but not, perhaps, the same proportion of lovers of music for its own sake. { } chapter xiii. sports and pastimes--cricket, hunting, racing, and prize-fighting--the butcher and the baronet, and other champions. among winter recreations skating was hardly known, and not at all as an amusement for ladies, but then what a glorious pastime was that of sliding! very few young people can slide on the ice now as the boy in - could do. in summer cricket was played, but, as in all the multiplied facilities for acquiring skill and knowledge, to-day the youthful cricketers have the best of tools, while their grandfathers had a home-made bat, or even a pale, and as for stumps, they generally grew in the neighbouring hedge till wanted, and the scoring book, in the form of a notched stick, came from the same quarter! but even at that time some "grand matches" sometimes came off, and nearly always for high stakes, as the following notice will show. the earliest announcement of a grand match in this district, i have met with, is the following for the year -- "tuesday, se'n night, a match at cricket was played between the gentlemen of saffron walden and stanstead abbots, for guineas, when the latter were bungle beat, that is, notches in one innings." what is the precise meaning which the old chronicler meant to attach to the phrase "bungle beat" in this instance, i must leave to lovers of the game to determine for themselves. but it was customary to play for much higher stakes than the above. thus, in the memorable year of scarcity of when people were longing for the deliverance of harvest-- "a cricket match was played at stanstead marsh, herts., between gentlemen of homerton and of stanstead, for guineas. the homerton side won by runs." another thing these old cricketers did which may be commended to the modern clubs--they set about the game as if they meant to finish it. "stumps to be pitched at _nine o'clock_" says the announcement of a fifty-guinea match between hertford and hoddesdon in . i have found no record of a match of this description for high stakes on royston heath, but cricket was undoubtedly played there, especially a few years later than the above dates. { } of other forms of sport, the meets of squire wortham's harriers were notable events, and especially on such occasions as "the little fair day"--the second day of royston fair--when they were taken to the top of the "one hill" on the heath, where the meet attracted not only a large number of the regular followers of the hounds, but a great many irregular ones as well; and, under the management of "old matt," the huntsman, with the stentorian voice, whose holloa could be heard at therfield by persons in royston, the chase excited no little interest and excitement. thriplow heath was also a favourite place of meeting for squire wortham's harriers, and, among the many horsemen who followed the pack, a notable figure was that of sir peter soame, of heydon. [illustration: the hunt breakfast.] sir peter was a dark, handsome man, of great muscular power and activity. it was commonly said that he could plant a dozen hurdles only a yard apart and clear them one at a time. as a horseman he had few equals, and was famous for the condition of his horses, which were the best turned out in the hunting field, and sir peter himself made a notable figure in his skin-fit leather breeches. it was the fashion then { } to wear the hunting breeches so tight that it would have been impossible to get into them but for the expedient of hanging them in the cellar or some damp place overnight! even then, to put them on was no child's play, and sir peter, it is said, used to put his on by sliding down the bannister! in this way he got into garments which fitted him like a second skin, and, regardless of the dampness of them, rode out in the pink of condition, on the best horse in the district! unless reports did him injustice, the sporting baronet was devotedly attached to the bottle, and more than once came to grief when driving his pony home from cambridge, when he would be picked up by one of the "fly" wagons and given a lift to the black horse at fowlmere. of sir peter in other sporting aspects more will be said presently. the heath appears to have been associated with other forms of sport, from the following lines taken from a local poet, to whose picturesque descriptions and facile handling of the heroic measure, i must be indebted in this chapter. i refer to a book entitled "visions of childhood," by w. warren butler, of barkway, printed and published by john warren in . of one questionable form of sport on the heath, he writes-- here on this very spot, here have i seen such bloody deeds performed upon the ground; and men have search'd the secret coverts round, where ev'ry harmless rabbit could be found. * * * * * * the innocent collection in a sack, are carelessly slung round their murd'rer's back and one by one let loose with joy they fly; this moment they are free--the next they die, the savage hound set on amidst the fray, seizes and tears their little lives away, while laughter from all sides his valour draws, and even fair ones pat him with applause. as to other kinds of sport, it may be mentioned that sportsmen then not only managed with flint guns, but were often mounted on ponies; for, while the open field system enabled them to mark and follow the birds in any direction, it often meant a longer journey for a bag than under more modern conditions of sport, while dogs played a much more important part in sport than to-day. then, it was no uncommon thing for the inhabitants of this, as of other districts, to go a long distance to be present at some sporting event. as late as , every available horse, cob or donkey, that could be mounted was ridden to newmarket, where about , persons assembled to witness osbaldiston's astonishing feat of riding two hundred miles in ten hours, or twenty miles an hour on horseback for ten successive hours, for one thousand guineas! he was allowed { } eight horses for changes, standing constantly saddled for him to jump off one on to the other, and on again in his flying career at each time round the "beacon" course of four miles. the feat was accomplished in a little less than the ten hours. to come back once more to sport on royston heath in the years immediately following george iii.'s reign, i find the following with reference to the revival of the royston races, which had flourished so famously during the last century under the name of the odsey races. in the spring of it is recorded that the heath "was much crowded to witness a match between a mare, the property of sir peter soame, of heydon, and a horse, the property of mr. t. berry, of hertingfordbury. other matches were run by hunters belonging to those present; and, at a subsequent meeting in july, arrangements were made for a regular programme, and a cup for competition the following year; and from that time the races continued for many years." the revived races were held every year on the th may, whereas the old odsey race meeting was in september. among the stewards appear the names of lord hardwicke, mr. brand, mr. delme radcliffe and mr. barnett, while mr. george smith was the treasurer and clerk of the course. in , when lord hardwicke and mr. brand were stewards, it is stated that there were from five to six thousand persons present, and as to the character of the gathering, we are told that-- "the usual attendants at all amusements of this kind were there, and succeeded in victimizing a few who were green enough to fancy they had a _chance of increasing_ their funds on the race-course." genteel at first, with a grand-stand erected on the course and numerous booths for refreshments, these races became in less repute as time went on and were associated with many disagreeable incidents. of the general characteristics of the scene of these races in their best days during the present century, mr. butler's poem gives us a vivid picture. the preparations for the event are shown, where many a pole stripp'd of its native rind, bears a pink flag, that rattles in the wind; and all the rustic villagers around behold with wond'rous eyes the hallow'd ground, and often pause to view the massive roll, bear down the turf, and level round the goal. of the morning of the races and the concourse of people coming in from all points of the compass, we get a glimpse for ten miles round, each village yields its bumpkin swains, and labour quits the fields. * * * * * * { } full many a smock shines white as driven snow, with pea-green smalls, whose polished buttons glow. * * * * * * nor they alone the glorious sight to share, their master's family will sure be there. lo! the old wagon, lumb'ring on the road, bears on its pond'rous sides the noisy load. lopp'd is the vig'rous tree, its spreading boughs cling to the sides, and shade their vacant brows. other characters, too, of the dandy type are coming in for many a sprightly cantab springs to view, borne swiftly on upon his licens'd steed, that all the day ne'er knows what 'tis to feed; cantabs and bumpkins, blacklegs wend along, and squires and country nobles join the throng! * * * * * * loud sounds the knotty thong upon the backs of poor half-starv'd and kennel-smelling hacks. in this fashion the noisy streams feed the growing crowd, as it nears the "painted landmark," where with what delight they view, the colours fly, that flap and flutter 'neath a windy sky. then we get a glimpse of the gentleman jockey as he "quits the just machine"-- strutting along equipp'd in vest of silk. * * * * * * full many a hat is doff'd as he draws near, for gentlemen themselves turn jockeys here. we see him sitting there on his mount "impatient for the start, while by his side, with equal pomp his lofty rivals ride," and anon the signal is given, and they are off! "bending thousands raise a rending cry," and the incidents which accompany the exciting event are well described in the following lines-- and while all eyes are fixed upon the goal, the skilful lads from town are on the prowl, swift fly the steeds along the even green, bored by the bloody spur, and quickly seen the champion full in front, and as he goes he wins by half a head, or half a nose; then betting fair ones fumble for their purse, eager the trifling wager to disburse. alas! they've nothing hanging by their side, save but the string by which the bag was tied, for through the silken dress a gash is seen, where the pick-pocket's impious knife hath been! but others besides the fair sex were sufferers from the same cause, while the "thimble-player" plied his trade and secured the attention of some countryman with "cash in his fob and forward with his prate." { } but old balances of this sort had a way of getting righted, and many will remember the scene here depicted-- thinking all safe, the sharper wends his way, but soon his foolish dupes get up a fray. * * * * * * so the poor mortal, by the raging pack, receives the heavy throng upon his back, until he sinks, exhausted by their rage, and finds, perchance, a lodging in the cage! such were the royston races during the present century. their abolition some twenty years ago, and the scenes of disorder and of shop robberies in the town, which had marked the moribund stage of their course, are too familiar to most roystonians to need further notice here. from royalty, down to the smallest stable or errand boy in the land, prize-fighting, or "the noble art of self-defence," as it was grandiloquently styled, was really looked up to as a manly and worthy spectacle during the first quarter of the present century, and a little later. when the prince regent, afterwards george iv., did not think it beneath his royal dignity to pet and encourage professional "bruisers," to attend the prize-ring, shake hands with tom cribb, the champion, or drive through the streets with a celebrated boxer in his carriage; and, when gully, the champion, could be returned as a member of parliament for pontefract, it is not surprising to find the craze descending through all ranks of society. i am obliged to introduce into these sketches something of this "seedy" side of the early years of the century, because, for good or evil, the neighbourhood of royston was frequently the scene of some of the more notable contests in the prize-ring. farther back, about the middle of the reign of george iii., these contests appear to have been almost entirely free, not only from any interruptions from the magistracy and the constable, but also from any risk of it. the result was that most elaborate arrangements were made not merely for the convenience of the combatants, but more especially with a view to make it a spectacle not unworthy of an arena of a roman amphitheatre of old. thus, in , on february th, when _johnson_ and _ryan_ gave their patrons at rickmansworth, herts., a set-to which, we are told, "was prodigiously fine," it was found that four thousand persons had subscribed their guineas, half-guineas, and crowns, and so, as it was impossible for the event to come off in the yard of the bell inn, a stage was erected round the sides of a gravel pit in the bottom of which the fight took place. the "door money" was divided equally between the combatants, and amounted to pounds. in later years it was usual to select some spot where the combatants and their friends could, if interrupted by any justice of the peace more courageous than his fellows, speedily cross over into { } another county and another jurisdiction. for this purpose few parts of the country offered better facilities than the neighbourhood of royston; especially such spots as noon's folly, near the borders of three counties--herts., cambs., and essex--or royston heath, from which it was easy to cross over from herts. into cambs. this precaution was not often really needed, for the magistrate and the constable either did not appear or were themselves passive spectators of the exciting scene. one exception may, however, be made, for i believe mr. john george fordham (father of mr. henry fordham) had the courage to go and interfere with a fight on the heath, and when they adopted the tactics of crossing over into cambridgeshire, thinking he was not a magistrate for that county, he crossed over after them. sir peter soame, of heydon grange--whose father, sir peter soame, was a gentleman of the privy chamber in the royal household of george iii. (in )--has been mentioned as a prominent figure in the hunting and racing world in this chapter. he was also often the chief promoter of encounters in the prize-ring in this district. his residence at heydon was the scene of many a roistering gathering of the sporting fraternity, and the baronet was such a practised hand himself, that in the event of the fighting men not turning up according to appointment he would himself step into the ring and challenge anyone present if need be, rather than allow the spectators to go away disappointed. there is a story of sir peter told by mr. cross in his _autobiography of a stage coachman_, which, being, on both sides, of a local character, may be worth repeating here. on one occasion a local butcher, named mumford, who had the reputation of "the fighting butcher," went to sir peter's house, just as he had some guests to dinner, to demand payment of a small sum of money. the sporting baronet was equal to the occasion; asking his guests to excuse him a few minutes, he went down into the kitchen, saw the butcher, and asked him if he was not the "fighting butcher." the applicant acknowledged that they did call him by that name. "well then," replied the baronet "that is the amount you say i owe you, and we will see who is to have it," depositing the money to be handed over. the terms were agreed to, sawdust was brought into the kitchen, and the butcher and baronet stripped and set to, with one or two of the servants to see fair-play. the fight was furious at the outset, but the butcher was soon defeated by the superior science of the baronet, and he had to depart without his money, after which sir peter joined his guests in the dining room, as if nothing had occurred! perhaps the most memorable event in the prize-ring that ever happened in this neighbourhood was the contest between jem ward and peter crawley, for the championship, on royston heath, on the nd { } january, . the event was the occasion of tremendous excitement, and the concourse of people was enormous. of the popular aspect of the event on the morning of the fight, the following graphic reminiscence is taken from some autobiographical notes by the late mr. john warren, who, however, was too young to know anything further of the event. "i remember when i was a little boy that the neighbourhood of royston was the scene of many prize-fights. that between ward and crawley for the championship took place when i was a youngster. early in the morning our high street was so full of people that you could walk on their heads. my father would not allow me to go on the heath to witness the prize-fight; so i went to the top of our garden, where i could hear the roar of voices and fancied i could hear the blows!" this famous "milling" came off on the heath at the lower end of the cricket ground somewhere near the spot selected for the jubilee tea in . cambridge and neighbouring towns sent their thousands of visitors, coaches were loaded and over-loaded, while the villages were nearly emptied. the greatest precaution appears to have been taken to secure a spot where no interruption would be likely to take place, and with this end in view two places were appointed, one on royston heath, and the other at heydon grange, the seat of the boxing baronet, sir peter soame. but whichever spot was to be fixed upon, royston was the rendezvous. jem ward, the champion, made his head-quarters at the red lion, and crawley and his friends stopped at "a road house about two miles from royston." the extraordinary ferment of interest and anxiety in royston as to where the event was actually to come off was kept up till even the morning of the day! to increase the uncertainty, the parties actually got two rings, and one of them was put up at the famous fighting rendezvous near heydon grange, as a ruse; but there was little need of such a precaution. the rumour of the erection of the ring near heydon grange got wind, and away went an excited avalanche of human beings, helter-skelter, over fields and hedges that winter's morning, for heydon grange, only to find themselves disappointed, and under the necessity of running back as fast as tired legs and panting lungs would carry them! in at least one case a royston spectator lost his life by the excessive exertion and over-heating! upon the site of the battle, at the lower end of the cricket ground, about ten to fifteen thousand persons were assembled, including all classes of society from post-boy to nobleman. the fight came off about mid-day amidst the utmost excitement and enthusiasm. in an age when fighting was reckoned among the "fine arts," ward was allowed to be "the finest fighter in england." the { } rapidity of his movements "gave amazing advantage for the display of his inimitably fine science," says the writer of the account in the _cambridge chronicle_ for . "on taking the champion's belt many sprung up in bravado, but none in arms sufficiently hardy to dispute his well-earned honours. at length, peter crawley got backed against him. crawley was a giant and stood feet, inches, while ward was feet, inches, and stout and active." i am not going to describe the scene further, beyond the remark that the fighting was a furious and tremendous onslaught upon each other, so that in the space of twenty-six minutes, and after eleven rounds, both men were perfectly exhausted, and in a wretched plight. crawley had his cheek laid open and both eyes nearly closed, and ward could not stand. in this short space the two pugilists had reduced themselves to the pitiable condition of simply mauling each other, hugging each other, and because crawley just managed to _push_ ward down and he could not rally in time, the champion lost his belt! the scene as described by eye witnesses, of whom there are very few living, as well as from the facts on record from which i have quoted, must have been a brutal one as we now look upon such things, though it was considered a grand and memorable spectacle to thousands of those assembled on our fine old heath! jem ward, who was generally looked upon as a little above the ordinary run of pugilists in intelligence and education, lived to an old age, and died only a few years ago. the frequency of these pugilistic encounters naturally had some effect upon, and was reflected in the local life of the period, and the amount of fighting at fairs and village feasts was in striking contrast with the rarity of such exhibitions now-a-days. the undergraduates from cambridge gloried in being mixed up with, and promoting such scenes of disorder, and it is well-known that in the "town and gown rows" at cambridge, they sometimes engaged some well-known champion--such as peter crawley, who defeated jem ward, on royston heath--to do the "slogging." they would attend village feasts in such company, and when their riotous conduct had provoked the young men of the village to a general row, these professionals set-to and often made short work of the fray. it was in one such exhibition at the melbourn feast in the early years of the century that j. king earned the title of the royston champion, and, for a time, gained more than a local repute. the undergraduates were bent upon their old game, led by the hon. george fitzwilliam, then of trinity college, and accompanied by two noted pugilists, "soapy dan" and a big black man named mahone. after the men of light and leading from the university had { } run a course of outrageous conduct towards all and sundry that came in their way, there was the customary general fight, and the two pugilists played terrible havoc among the melbourn young fellows, till, to the surprise of the visitors, one of the melbourn party, j. king, came forward, floored "soapy dan," and next had a regular set-to with the great black man, whom, after a sharp fight, he vanquished also, to the amazement of the honorable george. the latter had staked ten guineas on the issue, which he handed over to the royston champion, took a mighty fancy to him, and "took him in hand." he brought him to london, where, after a short training, he met jack power at the noted fighting rendezvous of mousley hurst, on an issue of l a side. the battle was a terrible one, and though the royston, or rather melbourn, champion, was the least skilful of the two, he fought for rounds before giving in to his better-trained antagonist, and practically closed a fighting career which was as surprising as it was brief. better remembered perhaps by some who are still living, was a notable prize-fight which, though it carries us a little beyond the era of the georges, cannot be passed by in these glimpses of the past, as it affords a striking instance of the fascination which the prize-fighting ring had over many young men of good birth and education, and marks what was practically the disappearance of these exhibitions from this locality. this was the fight between "owen swift," a practised hand, and "brighton bill," otherwise william phelps, a young man of only twenty years of age, who had seen little of such encounters and was believed to have been deserving of a more useful career than that which was so suddenly cut off by the fatal fight which, in the year , caused many persons in this neighbourhood to look with shame upon, and to turn with disgust from such exhibitions. the combat took place near noon's folly, on the newmarket road; barkway, on the cambridge coach road, being the head-quarters of the pugilists. it created an immense amount of interest, and, after a brutal exhibition, the unfortunate young man from brighton simply allowed himself to be pummelled to death, the outcome being an inquest and a trial for manslaughter at the herts. assizes. the evidence given at the inquest, held at the wheatsheaf, barkway, throws a very interesting light upon the spirit in which such exhibitions were regarded by the public, and also upon the attitude of the supposed representatives of law and order, who in those days seemed to go with the majority and throw aside the official mantle whenever it was inconvenient. upon this point, the evidence given by mr. john parr, the high constable for the parish of barkway, is especially interesting. this official candidly admits in his evidence that he saw the deceased on the { } saturday before the fight, believed he was there for the purpose of fighting, that it was generally reported the fight was to take place on melbourn heath, and that owen swift was to be deceased's antagonist. on the tuesday, witness went to see the fight, and admits the soft impeachment that he was not there for the purpose of preserving the peace, but went as a spectator! did not see any magistrates or constables present. there were at least three thousand persons present. saw deceased and swift enter the ring and saw them fight for an hour-and-a-half. saw nothing like foul play, and did not hear anyone call out "shame" when deceased was carried from the ring and put into a carriage. saw deceased at the wheatsheaf, barkway, next day, when he could not speak, and appeared insensible. saw him again on thursday and friday, on which latter day he found him dying, and he expired ten minutes after witness entered the room. the evidence of lee, the post-boy, who rode one of the "wheelers" to the fight, showed that the marquis of waterford's carriage was there, but he did not see the marquis. the jury, after hearing the evidence of mr. james balding, surgeon, of barkway, who attended brighton bill--and made a post mortem, with the assistance of dr. hooper, of buntingford--returned a verdict of manslaughter against owen swift and against the seconds, "dutch sam," otherwise samuel evans, francis redmond, richard curtis, and "brown, the go-cart-man," for aiding and abetting the said owen swift. the jury had the courage to add this significant rider:--"the jury feel themselves called upon to express their deep regret and concern that the magistrates of the adjoining counties of cambridgeshire, hertfordshire, and essex, did not interfere to prevent the breach of the peace, so notoriously expected to take place for some days previously, and also for the fact that a prize-fight having taken place at the same spot about twelve months since without their interference." this pointed reference to a former supineness of the representatives of the law was not altogether undeserved, for, on that occasion, the same owen swift had fought near the same spot against lazarus (on june st in the previous year) for two hours, and extending over rounds--evidence of itself that the "fancy" men had it all their own way in this happy corner of no-man's-land. that there was no attempt to disguise the object of the gathering is shown by the fact that the fight took place so near the turnpike road that "the stage coaches drew up as they passed, for some time, to allow the drivers [and the passengers!] to indulge in witnessing the spectacle." indeed, it is recorded that the spot and time of the encounter were publicly announced two days beforehand. { } it was said to be the third fatal fight in which owen swift had engaged, while phelps had only fought once before, and so brutal was the onslaught, that it is said bets were offered and taken on the ground, that both men would die in consequence of the injuries received! swift was hastily got out of the way, and it was asserted that as soon as his friends in london knew of the fatal result, four expert fellows were sent off with a view to recover the body to defeat the ends of justice by preventing an inquest, a reward of l being offered had they succeeded! the seconds were arrested, but swift got away to france. when one of the seconds, indicted as redmond, was placed at the bar, nobody could identify him--and it is said that this was believed to be due to his manipulation of beard, &c.--but the other seconds were identified. the case came on for trial at the hertfordshire assizes in the same year, before mr. sergeant d'oyley. john parr, the constable, (and a saddler) said that he saw or rounds fought, and that ten or twelve were fought that he did not see. there were "persons of high consideration" there, and many gentlemen's carriages. one of the defendants' counsel, in the face of the awful experience of the misled and gentlemanly young phelps, had the hardihood to "energetically contend for prize-fighting, which, in the opinion of many, formed that national character of courageous fairplay which was the pride of the nation." the jury found the prisoners guilty, but "recommended them to mercy." evidence of character was given, but it amounted to this, that the defendants "were quiet, good humoured people, who never took advantage of anyone." they were sentenced to three months' imprisonment with hard labour, and "seemed overjoyed with the leniency of the court." in his interesting _autobiography of a stage coachman_, mr. cross, who for many years drove the lynn coach, says he saw the young man phelps both before and after the fight, and gives the following graphic and pathetic incident. the lynn coach, on leaving kingsland road, picked up three passengers, and upon its being mentioned that the coach had some fighting men inside, a clergyman, who was riding on the box, and whose wife, a young and beautiful lady, was inside, protested against allowing such company to sit in the coach with his wife; and, says mr. cross, his mind was set at rest by two coarse-looking fellows in rough great coats getting on the outside, and a well-dressed gentlemanly young man getting in. upon the husband assisting his lady out, she asked him who was the gentleman who got in last; for { } his conversation had been extremely interesting, and she was sure by his general information he must be a gentleman of distinction at the university. dressed in an elegant suit of black, and displaying on a delicate white hand a diamond ring, he took his place at the table at the inn for refreshments on the road, and, his manners corresponding with his appearance, no one could suspect him of being a fighting man. "reader, this was the man known as 'brighton bill'--his real name i never knew, but that he was of respectable parents, and intended by them for a better calling i was convinced. when two days afterwards i saw his contused and distorted countenance, the only part visible from under the bedclothes, at the 'wheatsheaf,' at barkway, when he was deserted by all, and had no friend or relative near to watch over his fast-departing spirit, i could not restrain a tear. i silently, as i descended the stairs, invoked a curse on such barbarous practices, as well as on the authors of his death!" if the writer of the above was correct in the identity of the dying pugilist with his cultured passenger, his parents or friends never came forward to recognise him. he was buried in a corner, the lower corner, of the barkway churchyard, and the only trace of him is in the parish register, which tells the simple fact of the death of william phelps, of brighton, sussex, aged twenty years. chapter xiv. old coaching days--stage wagons and stage coaches. many readers, whose lives carry them back before the "forties," taking their stand beneath the broad gateway or pebbled court-yard of our old inns--the red lion, the bull, or the crown--would require a very slight effort of memory to recall the exhilarating spectacle of the arrival and departure of the stage coach of fifty or sixty years ago. such a person will once more hear in imagination the cheery coach horn at the town's end; and, watching for only a minute, he knows what to expect--yes, there around that critical corner at the cross, come the steaming leaders, then a handful of reins, the portly form of the coachman, and then the huge embodiment of civilization itself comes { } swinging round the corner like a thing of life! clattering up the high street! the driver pulls them up promptly at the lion, or the bull, and performs that classic feat of swinging his lusty eighteen stone from the box seat with an easy grace which is the envy of every stable boy in the town! he sees once more the busy scene of bustle and animation as the steaming horses are replaced by other sleek animals fresh from the stables, and the old coach rolls on for another stage of the journey. this, the ideal view of locomotion in the palmy days of stage-coaching, was really an evolution from something much less smart and efficient. of that interesting evolution of the older locomotion, our old town, by the necessity of the route, saw most of the varied phases, for during many years of the century coaches rattled through our streets with kings, queens and princes, duellists and prize-fighters, daring highwaymen and bow street runners, romantic lovers off to gretna green, and school boys--poor little nicklebies off to a squeers' academy--jostling inside the body of the lumbering coach, or dangling their legs from the roof as outsiders! in glancing at the salient points of this evolution as it passed before the eyes of our grandfathers, it may be necessary to go back to the "composite" order of locomotion with the mixture of goods and passenger traffic. a journey to london, or a distant town, for the purpose of trade or a visit, was a tedious experience full of discomfort. following the sturdy caravan of pack-horses, the lumbering coaches, and broad-wheeled wagons of last century came the "fly wagons" in the early years of this century, and with them the possibility of poor people once in a life time getting a few miles from home, in case of absolute necessity. the old tilted fly-wagon was used not only for taking up and delivering goods too heavy to go by coach, but persons who could not afford the coach fare of d. a mile or thereabouts, would find a place wedged in among the goods at the back of the tilted wagon, sometimes packed away in straw to keep warm. in this way, a whole family, placed under the necessity of moving to a distant part, a comparatively rare occurrence though, have had to remain doubled up in a cramped position day and night, while the slow-going wagon creaked along its ponderous way, till the younger members of the family party peeped out of their hole and caught sight of the splendours of "the lights of london," in the long rows of oil lamps which then illuminated kingsland road, by which london from the north was entered, and anon the rendezvous at the "vine," or "four swans," in bishopsgate, was reached, to the intense relief of all! in this primitive style, many a small tradesman has journeyed up to london, and, having transacted his business, has returned in the same manner two or three days afterwards. { } fly-wagons and vans travelled from london daily for buntingford, royston, cambridge, fakenham, boston, stamford, york and edinburgh. nearly all wagons on this road made their point of arrival and departure in london at bishopsgate street--the four swans, the vine, and the catherine wheel being the usual inns. the amount of goods traffic from royston by these wagons was very considerable, especially by the wakefield wagons which conveyed the wool from the combers in royston to the yorkshire mills. [illustration: third-class to london.] the coaching traffic at the beginning of the present century, corresponded pretty much with express and stopping trains of the present day. there were what may be called "main line" coaches from london, through royston to edinburgh by the north road (as well as by other great roads through the kingdom), and the "branch line" coaches, such as those from london to cambridge, norwich, fakenham, &c., and from london to ipswich, a route that figured so prominently in the memorable adventures of mr. pickwick. the north road through-coaches did not change horses at royston, but at arlington, at the hardwicke arms, and again at buckland at the first farm house (now mr. kestell's). the coaches were horsed at arrington by mr. meyer, then the landlord of the hardwicke arms, who also supplied horses for the stage from arrington to caxton. as to the time occupied on the road, every age has its own standard of enterprise and progress. thus in a writer in an old { } magazine breaks out into the following eloquent strain over the smartness of those times:--"who would have conceived it possible fifty years ago that a coach would regularly travel betwixt london and edinburgh, near miles, in less than three days!" from our standpoint one is tempted to rejoin "who would have conceived it possible years ago that an express train would travel regularly between london and edinburgh in / hours!" but perhaps the future may laugh at such a boast! still, that three days' journey by the old coaches was in reality a great thing, and one to be proud of, and as these "main line" coaches rattled through the pebbled streets of our old town they were looked upon with pride as a part of our national institutions. with regard to what may be called the branch line system of the coaching traffic, we are too apt to think of coaching as a means of through communication by the great routes mentioned to appreciate, at this distance of time, the vast amount of enterprise, and of horse flesh and vehicles brought into the coaching and posting service, to connect places lying off the main routes--places which were served, down to very many of the villages, either by a coach under the management of local persons, or by the system of fly-wagons and van traffic, which brought goods and passengers from distant places at such intervals as could be arranged and worked at a profit. at the end of the reign of george iii. the coaches passing through or near royston were:--"the royston mail," "the cambridge auxiliary mail," "the cambridge new royal and patent mail," "cambridge union coach," "safety," "tally-ho"; "telegraph" and "lynn union" (both through barkway); "lord nelson" (lynn), "edinburgh and newcastle mail," "york and edinburgh mail," "the lord wellington," "the high flyer," "the fakenham mail," "the fakenham patriot," and the "stamford coach." the cambridge coaches changed horses at royston (or barkway, according to the route taken) and buntingford. mr. ekin, of cambridge, horsed the coaches from cambridge to royston, and the other distance from royston to london was horsed by london men. from the foregoing list the reader will see that the old coaching days meant no small amount of life and animation, and, for certain trades, money and business, to towns situated as royston was. for the palmy days of stage-coaching we must travel a little beyond the era of the georges, even of the last of them; for at the time when the railway came the coaching traffic of this country had reached a pitch of perfection which was unknown at any previous period in its history, and for smartness and efficiency and for the vast extent of its operations it was an institution of which the english people had every reason to be proud. { } a parliamentary return for shows the highest speed attained by mail coaches in england to have been / miles per hour, in scotland / , and in ireland / . that there were still some terribly bad roads for some of the cross-country mail coaches is shown by the fact that the slowest speed was miles in england, in scotland, and / in ireland. royston saw some of the smartest coach-driving on the road. six or seven coaches and three mails passed through the town up and down every day. posting business was conducted with great spirit by the two rival inns--the young bull and the older red lion, each having half a score of post horses in their stables, and one pair always standing harnessed ready to take "first turn out." these demands upon the principal inns made it impossible for the coach-horses to be stabled there and they occupied stables at various places in the town, but were brought up generally at the red lion or the bull for the changes. one of the chief characteristics of the old coaching days was the close association of coaches and coachmen with, and keen interest taken in them by, the inhabitants of the towns through which the principal coach routes passed. royston had its full share of such associations, the institution coloured all our local life, from the pauper or cripple who begged of the coach passengers, to the local gentry who were expecting their newspaper. there was thus always something exhilarating and stirring about the arrival of the stage coach. it had within it so many possibilities. it might contain some great "parliament man," runaway lovers, or stealers of bank notes, and it always brought some news. intimately associated with the life and habits of the townspeople were the coaches travelling between london, royston and cambridge, the persons in charge of which, and many of the passengers using them, being known to the townspeople, whilst the names and merits of the rival coaches were known to the smallest boy in the parish. [illustration: a cambridge election party.] it seems strange in these days that there should have been so much interest centred in these flying channels of civilization. i have mentioned the "safety" and "tally-ho," two coaches driven through royston from cambridge to london and back. these were well-known as rival coaches--rivals in time, for each went up in the morning and back in the evening, and, what is more interesting, they were also rivals in, and between them there was a keen competition for, popular favour; so much so that one might almost describe them as the aristocratic and democratic coaches. there is sufficient reason for making this distinction between them in the fact that the royston people of those days ( - ) did, in the absence of anything more exciting to divide their thoughts and preferences in the quiet daily round of their lives, manage to set up a sort of party-distinction, not { } exactly on the lines of whig and tory, but, strange as it may seem, by the names of "tally-ho," and "safety." from the smallest boy to the oldest man in royston and the district, the inhabitants showed sufficient leanings one way or the other to be classed as "tally-ho" men or "safety" men. by these rival coaches men swore, pledged themselves, and regulated their watches--those who had any. but the "tally-ho" and "safety" party-cries came out more especially amongst the boys, for when "tally-ho" and "safety" boys met, it was a case of "when greek meets greek," with frequent fights! the two rival coaches thus became the means of sharply dividing popular sentiment, with many who had never enjoyed a seat on either of the champion coaches! about the rivalry between "tally-ho" and "safety" was at its merriest, and ten years later other coaches had appeared upon the scene. thus in the following were the coaches, and their places of call, passing through royston:--the "star," from cambridge, daily, calling at the red lion, royston, and destined for belle sauvage, london; the cambridge "beehive," up and down alternate days, the bull, royston, and the catherine wheel, bishopsgate street, and white bear, piccadilly; the cambridge "telegraph," daily, the red lion, royston, and the white horse, fetter lane; the "rocket," daily, the bull, royston, and white horse, fetter lane; the "wisbeach," daily, the bull hotel, royston, and belle sauvage and golden cross, london; the "stamford," up and down alternate days, the crown, royston, and the bell and crown, holborn; the "wellington," from york, the queen victoria, royston (now the coffee tavern), and the bull and mouth, london; the "rapid," daily (including sunday), the red lion, royston; edinburgh and york mail and the cambridge mail, daily, the red lion, royston, for the general post office, london. the times at which these coaches arrived at royston followed in fairly consecutive order like a railway time table--thus of the up coaches the "star," . a.m., "beehive," . , and so on up to the "rocket," at . , while the edinburgh and cambridge mails passed through at and in the morning; the return journeys were of course chiefly towards the evening. the usual time from royston to london was hours, excepting the york mail, in the night time, which reached the general post office within four hours after leaving the red lion, at royston. one of the coaches in the above list, the "star," naturally leads one from coaches to coachmen. i am not aware who was the driver of the "tally-ho," but of the rival coach, the "safety," the driver was joe walton, the driver of the "star" at the later date mentioned above, a famous coachman in his day who lived to see, and curse from { } his box that "iron horse," which was destined to break up the traditions of the road. it was the general testimony of those who had ridden behind him, or beside him on the box, that joe walton had few superiors on the road as a driver of a stage coach, especially for the manner in which he would handle his "cattle," and pull his coach through the streets of the metropolis. he was, however, daring to a fault, but a strong will and an iron nerve could only have enabled him to carry that heavy handful of reins for ten hours at a stretch--fifty miles up and fifty miles back on the same day, all through the season. this was no child's play! he was a driver who was not easily turned aside by difficulties or obstacles in the way, and has been known to conduct his coach across "hedges and ditches" when snow blocked up the highways. the firm grip of his position was sometimes apparent to those who encountered him on the road. woe-betide any inefficient or sleepy driver whom joe had to pass on the road, for a heavy smack from his whip was often as effectual a cure as the modern roundabout process of dragging the sleepy teamster before the magistrates and extracting a few shillings from his earnings! at a recent dinner at cambridge, professor humphry, who came to cambridge to commence what has been a brilliant career by a journey on the "star" coach, lightly hit off joe walton, the driver of the "star," as a man who "used to swear like a trooper and go regularly to church." joe walton was also a man who could show off his powers on the box, and did not like to be beaten. in , finding, just as he was leaving buntingford with the "star" coach, that the "defiance" was cutting out the pace in front of him, he put his "cattle" to it with a view to pass the "defiance;" but by one of the horses shying at the lamp of the coach in front, walton's coach was overturned and he and a passenger were injured. again in , joe overthrew the "star" coach not far from royston, on the nd september, but it would almost seem that the fault was as much in the "star" as in joe's daring style of driving, for again on the th september it was overthrown on the buntingford and royston road, when it was being driven by sir vincent cotton. every inch a coachman, joe walton felt the bitter slight upon his high calling, when at last, with the introduction of the railway, his journeys were curtailed to the miserable make-shift of driving only as far as broxbourne to meet the iron horse, whose approach walton would hail with a memorable emphasis, and a more forcible than polite "here comes old hell-in-harness!" other men on the north road, though having less of walton's rough grip of their calling, were noted for their urbanity and general { } intelligence. a place of honour among these was well deserved by valentine carter, the son of a hertford coach-proprietor, the driver of the "rocket," already referred to, and of the "royston coach" from cambridge to ware, as a connection with the great eastern railway ( - ), and in after life known as the genial landlord of the george hotel, buntingford. at the time of his death he had reached his th year, and when his remains were interred in the layston churchyard only a few years ago it was well said of him that "a more upright, truthful, and honourable man never lived." another man of some note on the london and barkway road was thomas cross, the driver of the lynn coach, to whose interesting volumes, "the autobiography of a stage coachman," i have previously referred. the cambridge "telegraph" was, at one time, driven by a type of man whose character found expression in the soubriquet of "quaker will." the difference between the risk of accidents on a coach and in a railway train has been well put by the old stager who asked the question--"if you meet with an accident by a coach and get thrown into a ditch, why there you are! but if you meet with an accident when riding by train--where are you?" a few coaching adventures may be worth mentioning. thus in it is recorded that-- on saturday morning, early, the wisbeach mail from london coming down reed hill, between buckland and royston, was overthrown by the horses taking fright, by which accident one woman was killed on the spot and some other passengers slightly hurt. on one occasion the hertford coach met with a very alarming accident when overloaded with passengers, nearly all of whom were severely hurt. a shocking accident, from top-loading, occurred in to the ipswich coach, on the top of which the rev. gaven braithwaite, fellow of st. john's college, cambridge, was crushed to death as the coach entered the gateway of the blue boar inn, in that town. sometimes a coach was overturned with ludicrous results. thus the lynn coach, when being driven through trumpington, on one occasion was overturned against the wall of a cottage. it so happened that the good house-wife was washing at the time; it further happened that her door was standing wide open, and it also happened that the ladies on the coach were pitched into the open doorway of the cottage, and one of them was pitched into the tub of soapsuds! in , as soon as the day coach from wisbeach to london, through cambridge, arrived at the white hart inn, cambridge, it was seized by the excise officers and taken to the rose and crown, where it remained some days "in confinement," owing to the interesting circumstance that smuggled brandy was "on board." { } of the personal adventures of those in charge of the coaches and their hardships, the late mr. james richardson used to tell a graphic story to the effect that one winter's day he was waiting at the cross, royston, till the coach came in from the north. the townspeople were more than usually interested owing to the severity of the weather. this particular coach changed horses at the old crown, and when the vehicle rattled up the street it was noticed that the horn did not sound, and, on pulling up, the driver went sharply round to scold the guard. poor fellow! he was found frozen to death, fast on his perch! sometimes the passengers by coach found themselves in contact with rough characters. in , for instance, the lynn coach contained three men being taken up to london for trial on a charge of burglary. when ascending barkway hill the three men took advantage of the slower pace of the coach and began to descend with a view to escape, but the attendant immediately brought a pistol to their faces and one who had actually got off the coach was "persuaded" to get up again by the determination of their attendants to "have them in newgate this night either dead or alive." they got them there alive and they were transported. in the coaching days of this century the old highwaymen had for the most part disappeared, but a notable instance was afforded in this district in which the mellishs, then residing at hamels park, were concerned. there were really two incidents, one in which colonel mellish fired at a highwayman and killed him, and in the other captain mellish was robbed, and as the highwayman rode away, not satisfied with his triumph, he turned and fire at the carriage, and the ball passed through the window and killed captain mellish! mr. cross, the driver of the lynn coach, gives an instance of three rival coaches on the road, of which he was driving one, and that a race for the lead resulted in accomplishing one stage at the extraordinary pace of minutes and a few seconds for an _eight miles course_, which, if timed correctly, was at the rate of _ miles an hour_! but three of his opponents' horses never came out of the stable again! one of the most alarming stage coach accidents in england was that between the holyhead mail and the chester mail near st. albans in . there had been a race between the two coaches from just this side highgate, to near st. albans. when going down a hill both drivers--perdy, of the holyhead, and butler, of the chester coach--put their horses into a furious galop, the velocity of the coaches increasing at every step. there was plenty of room, but as butler found the holyhead gaining a little upon him, it is said he wildly threw his leaders in front of his rival's and the coaches were immediately upset with a terrible collision. a man named william { } hart was killed and others had their limbs shattered. the drivers were put upon their trial at the hertford assizes before baron gurney, and were found guilty of manslaughter and sentenced each to one year's imprisonment. railway passengers are at least tolerably free from the "begging nuisance," but not so the passengers by stage coaches when the coach pulled up for the change of horses, as the following entry in the royston committee book for will show:-- "ordered that notice be given to john t---- and j. b---- if they are found begging in the street from the coaches that their pay is to be taken off." one curious indication that the end of the coaching era was approaching was afforded by the invention of steam coaches. thus we find in that "hancock's steam coach" came through royston for the first time, being seven hours coming from london, including stoppages. rather a slow rate from the agency which was to annihilate horse coaches! one of the arguments against railways was that there would no longer be employment for horses, and yet just before railways were heard of one man stood at the old tyburn turnpike and received the toll and issued tickets for the whole of the oxford street traffic! what a picture that old tyburn turnpike man would form now, standing there in his white apron with its two pockets, "one for half-pence and one for tickets," and assessing the great volume of oxford street traffic of to-day! yet the disappearance of coaches from our highways did make a very considerable difference to old towns like royston, where, next to malting, the posting business was the most important in the town. as to the effect of the decay of coaching upon towns on the great coach roads, it is said that the town of barnet had been accustomed to keep upwards of , horses in its stables, and hounslow, on the great western road, , horses! coaches and coach horses are not the only things which have disappeared from our high roads. one of the things to be met with on the roads in - was the velocipede. it was not unlike in form the "safety" bicycle which is so universally met with on our roads to-day, with a trifling difference which made long and rapid journeys out of the question. the fact is the mechanical genius of englishmen, which has made such enormous strides during the century, had not then found out that it was possible to use the solid earth as a fulcrum and at the same time to leave the feet and legs free. a horse used its feet to draw a coach and why not a man! so the velocipede was constructed for the rider's feet to just reach the ground, and by pressing first one foot on the ground and then the other he managed in this undignified attitude, to propel the thing along! { } another characteristic thing about the old locomotion was the dog cart--small carts used by pedlars and others drawn along the high roads by a dog or dogs. sometimes these old pedlars would drive to royston market with their "carriage and pair" of dogs in rattling style! this sight was very common during the last century and lingered to about the end of the coaching days. in the _gentleman's magazine_, for , a writer says: "i have sometimes seen two dogs yoked one on each side of a barrow drawing regularly and well, similar to ploughing. their feet being tender, to prevent their being foot-sore, they should have some sort of shoeing; perhaps leather would be properest." so well established had the use of dogs for drawing carts become that the subject came before parliament about fifty years ago. an old magazine of this date gives a kind of petition to parliament, drawn up by a village schoolmaster and signed by three small hucksters, setting forth, like the three historic tailors of tooley street, the injured sense of the "people of england" at the prospect of an interference with the use of dogs, and praying for the suppression of horses and the protection of the small trader's dog, "because the dog carts of poor people were continually, almost, and sometimes quite, run over by these rough beasts [horses], and that this tyranny and wilfulness is very difficult for the poor man to bear, who may have as good a spirit as any coachman, although he is not so high up"! from as late as about there comes to the writer a vision of a pedlar, muddled with drink, riding home in his little square box cart and the faithful dog drawing the cart and the man as well, and also a faint echo of "shame" from some bystanders. verily the fable must in those days have been true, that when the goddess fidelity was lost among men, after long searching, she was found in a dog-kennel! a picturesque part of the old system of locomotion was, of course, the turnpike. the keepers of toll-gates found their principal customers in the numerous coaches and the wagons which travelled up and down the main roads, for the farmers could, and frequently did, by a little mutual contriving, manage a cross-cut by their field-ways on to the main road on the town side of a toll-gate, as in the case of bassingbourn and the baldock road into royston. for the wagon traffic, which conveyed much heavy merchandise, the older toll-gates had a weigh-bridge attached to them so that the weight might be ascertained and charged according to their scale. in later times the regular coaches generally ran through without being stopped, and paid the toll periodically. the turnpike-road to caxton--or rather from royston cross to wandesford bridge in the county of huntingdon, of which the southern part from royston to kisby's hut formed one trust, is said to have been the first turnpike-road in england. { } certainly the various acts of parliament for its repair and maintenance date back to the time of queen anne, if not earlier, and, after turning up in acts all through the reigns of the georges, ended with the act of under which the old trust was managed in the times of the modern coaching days. the traffic never was sufficient to maintain the road without resorting to a rate upon the neighbouring lands, owing to the diversion of a good deal of the coaching and wagon traffic at royston for cambridge, and the trustees were often in great straits, and on the horns of a dilemma--if they charged enough toll to pay their way, the traffic was driven off the roads; if they modulated their charges the roads went to the bad. money was advanced by private individuals upon the security of the tolls, and the road between royston and arrington was always in debt and dirty. so bad was it that the mail coaches were delayed, the postmaster-general came down upon the trustees, and mr. mcadam, the surveyor to the trustees (at a salary of l per annum), whose hands were full of surveying at that time in various parts of england, reported that though the road was "not indictable at common law, it certainly was not in a fit condition to travel upon, at the speed which the excellent regulations of the post office require." "it required fourteen hundred tons of material and one thousand pounds value in labour to put it into a proper condition, at a cost of l , , or about l a mile"! that this state of insolvency was not due to tolls being too low is evident from the fact that a petition was presented to the trustees, setting forth that the tolls were so high as to drive the traffic off the road. eightpence per horse at both gates was a considerable sum between royston and kisby's hut. again and again the bankrupt condition of the road, both in solidity and finance, was submitted to the postmaster-general and the treasury authorities in the hope of getting some relief from that quarter, and in the trustees, despairingly, stated that upon the success of their application for a subsidy (including l , to cut through arrington hill), depended the question of keeping open "this most important line of general communication." between , when the kneesworth toll bar produced about l a week, and , there was a considerable increase in the traffic on the roads, and the highest figure reached was in , when the amount realized from the kneesworth and caxton toll gates was l , for the year. as coaching declined, the turnpike receipts fell off so much that by the kneesworth and caxton toll-gate receipts had dwindled down, in twenty years, from l , to l a year! that the railway did not knock all the horses off the road, but on the contrary brought them on for other purposes, is evident from the fact that after the establishment of a railway station at royston the above toll-gate receipts went up again in the next twenty years to l a year! { } the wadesmill turnpike trust (from royston to wadesmill) was a much more profitable road, as it included some of the cambridge as well as the north road traffic. indeed, for three years before the london road hill was cut through, the tolls from royston to wadesmill were let to mr. flay for l , per annum, and in after the cutting was finished, they were let for l , , the highest sum ever made under this trust. with the disappearance of the last of the toll-gates the last relics of the old coaching days vanish. antiquated such an expedient may seem--placing bars across the road--yet the system did enable some very notable improvements to be carried out in cutting through high hills at an expense which modern highway authorities would never dream of. then, they not only secured the desirable result that all who used the roads should pay for them, but helped to preserve the balance of trade between towns and villages, for, no sooner were gates abolished than many heavy users of the roads got off almost scot free of contributing to their maintenance, and the town tradesman could afford to send his carts round and compete with, and, as a natural consequence, to annihilate many small village shop-keepers who had flourished under the old _régime_. chapter xv. new wine and old bottles.--a parochial revolution.--the old poor-house and the new "bastille." over the dark night of the th and the dull grey morning of the th century there was this remarkable feature, that while the local records show how deplorable was the condition of the people, there was at the head of the affairs of the nation a perfect galaxy of great men, such as the public life of this nation had perhaps never known. there were fox, pitt, sheridan, burke, wellington, wilberforce, nelson, canning, brougham, lord chancellor eldon--whose greatness was only tempered by the fear that the sun of great britain would set if a catholic was allowed to sit in the house of peers,--the duke of york--whose speech against catholic emancipation was printed in letters of gold and sold by our local stationers,--the great lyndhurst (four times lord chancellor) palmerston, lord derby, who, from a maiden speech about lighting manchester with gas, rose to be "the rupert of debate," macaulay--the brilliant buntingford school boy who went stamping through the fields of literature with an _éclat_ which made him one of the giants of the coming century,--o'connell, the liberator; and grattan, of irish { } parliament fame. all these great names made up a reflection of the glories of ancient greece and rome in the arena of debate. they shone like stars in the firmament, helping to make the common people content to dwell in the night by the glittering panoply they threw over the public life of the nation. men and women forgot their grievances in the contemplation of great names whose owners did not then, like the statesmen of to-day, come down to the level of the common life to be jostled on railway platforms. it is only when one looks into the details of local life that it is possible to realize the sharp contrast of great men and little happiness for the people, or how terrible must have been the strain for the whole nation to have existed under such conditions without a revolution. the marvel is that parliament with so much talent in its foremost men should have been powerless to deal with the weakness outside, or that the brilliant leaders should have been content to reach such an eminence by so rough and thorny a path; but the great forces which have been liberated within this century had not then set men's energies free, and they were pretty much confined to, and did not see much beyond, the narrow way along which they were toiling. parliamentary reform, for which more enlightened men here and there had for fifty years been asking, was the first setting of the tide which was to penetrate and revolutionize all our local life. early in the present century when the then lord dacre contested cambridgeshire, and had the audacity to advocate parliamentary reform and civil and religious liberty, he was called the fire-brand, and he had few supporters when, in , he moved for an inquiry into the state of parliamentary representation. the amount of political literature and printers' ink used in the agitation for "the bill, the whole bill, and nothing but the bill," was perhaps unparalleled in the history of english electioneering. some of it, to say the least, was not very refined, but it expressed very well the prevailing state of things which the "bill" was destined to upset. the electors of herts. and cambs. were not unlike those of stafford who said "now, gronow, old boy, we like what we have heard about you, your principles and all that sort of thing. we will therefore all vote for you if [slapping their breeches pockets]--you know what we mean, old fellow, and if not, you won't do for stafford!" though the candidate did not trouble himself much about his "principles and that sort of thing, you know," his opponents generally managed, in the form of squibbs of a more or less elegant turn, to supply the deficiency. here is a specimen of a hertfordshire squib [after other promises put into the mouth of a candidate]-- "lastly, i engage to hire all the bullies, blackguards, bankrupts, blacklegs, bum-bailiffs, and even the gipsies in the neighbourhood," &c. { } this and much more of a scurrilous character appeared in large type with the printer's name in bold letters! it is curious to note how the desire for parliamentary reform took hold of all classes of the people, and during that stormy period, when the commons were engaged in passing and the lords in repeatedly rejecting "the bill," parliament was watched by its constituents, through such imperfect channels as were open to them, in a manner which had never been known before. here is a local incident which is vouched for by an eye witness. on a certain division in the house, mr. adeane, the then member for cambridgeshire, walked out of the house without voting, and shortly after when he was canvassing in shepreth village, one, old jerry brock, met him with this brusque little speech:--"muster adeane, i've heerd say that when a sartin motion agin the bill was made, you walked out o' the house o' commons without votin. now i'll just thank you to walk out o' my house!" in december, , following the passing of the reform bill, three liberal members each were returned for hertfordshire and cambridgeshire, to the first reformed parliament--for hertfordshire, sebright, calvert and alston, and for cambridgeshire, townley, childers and adeane, but with the great issue of the corn laws looming in the distance, these agricultural counties gradually went round, and in all the representatives of the two counties were conservatives. in cambs., yorke, allix and eaton, were returned without a contest, and in herts., grimston, ryder and smith, were returned, alston one of the old members being defeated. in mr. trevor (the late lord dacre) turned the tide in herts. by recovering one of the seats, but it was not till that a seat was gained for the liberals in cambs.--a seat afterwards held by mr. brand (the speaker), the late viscount hampden, whose death everyone laments. it was in the election of the first reformed parliament that royston first had a polling place. we can hardly realize what the passing of the reform bill meant in the estimation of almost all classes of the people in country districts, but a pamphlet published by j. warren, royston, in , in order that "everyone may have in his possession a faithful report of so glorious a triumph," affords us some interesting glimpses of the effect of the passing of that great measure upon our local life. here is a summary of the record for royston:-- "the struggle for so grand and important a measure having at length terminated in favour of the wishes of the people, the inhabitants of royston were determined to commemorate it in that respectful way, so glorious a triumph in passing the reform bill into law, really deserved; consequently a committee was formed, and a subscription collected of l without difficulty, with a promise of more if wanted. { } a band was sent for from london, then on thursday morning the bells were set ringing and the musicians struck up with the beautiful air, 'away, away to the mountain brow,' in the street, which so struck the ears of the people that they really forgot all business." "twenty tables were admirably arranged, covered and fenced in on the green where the horse-fair is kept. some , of the towns-people headed by the band filling the street from one end to the other and forming a most imposing spectacle besides innumerable spectators, the windows on both sides of the street crowded, so that it is supposed there was not less than , pleasant faces to be seen at one time." the scene at the great booth which accommodated the assemblage was an imposing one too with its outward banners flying:--"reform festival, ," and "triumph of liberty "; while at the head of the tables were mottoes galore:--"the people's triumph," "grey, brougham," "althorpe, russell," "the king and people united must prevail," "no slavery," "the house of dacre," "townley and reform," "speed the plough," "england's wealth, the working classes," "our aim is peace, our end is victory," "sebright, calvert," "duncombe, currie," "we unite to conquer," "god save the king," &c., &c. with three carvers, three waiters and a tapster to each of the twenty tables, the eager , could hardly wait for grace from the rev. samuel cautherley (vicar of the parish), before the set-to upon the beef and plum pudding "with good brown stout." the cloths being removed, "the pipe fillers amply produced their fruits, and the tapster regulated his tap which continued to run freely," while the carvers and waiters were having a set-to in the market house. tea followed, and what with tobacco, snuff, peals of bells and the music of the band, the poor continued to enjoy themselves until nine o'clock, when the illumination of the town began, and by ten o'clock at night the streets "with their coloured lamps and candles and transparencies had a most beautiful appearance." the second day, friday, of the principal inhabitants sat down to dinner at the red lion, mr. john george fordham, then of odsey (father of mr. henry fordham), presiding, and supported on his right by mr. j. p. wedd, and on his left by mr. e. k. fordham, the venerable banker. toasts came thick and fast, and all shared the enthusiasm of "this proud moment of conscious victory when the march of ages is over-stepped by the exertions of a day." we kindle not war's battle fires; by union, justice, reason, law, we claim the birth-right of our sires: we raise the watchword liberty, we will, we will, we will be free! { } in this strain the oratory flowed, from the reformers--the chairman, mr. wedd, mr. e. k. fordham, who re-called the first reform meeting he attended in that very room forty years before, and the rev. j. horseman (rector of heydon). the third day, and still the reforming zeal had not spent itself, and the musicians were still in tune, and on saturday joined in witnessing a cricket match on the heath, with a cold dinner. unfortunately for the older cricketing reputation of the town it is recorded that "owing to their having had two amusing days previous there was too much work in the game of cricket for their performance to be worth recording, and so threw away their bats and balls and retired to the indies who were preparing a social cup of tea, making altogether a party of about ." "they then returned to the town headed by the band, and concluded in the high street by playing and singing in full chorus the grand national anthem of "god save the king," while the bells rang the old constitution out and the new one in! thus ended three days such as the inhabitants of royston never before witnessed, and probably never will again." other towns in the district--hitchin, biggleswade, ware, baldock, &c.,--also had their celebrations, and among the villages there was a "spirited little set out" at meldreth, where were provided with dinner, and the musical amateurs of the village and neighbourhood with their "violins, clarinets, horns, &c., which they were using to the best of their knowledge, gave youthful spirits to the aged, and so well was the commemoration of the reform bill conducted that it was much admired by all who witnessed it. in the evening they all, ladies and gentlemen and poor, about in number, had a reel together, and concluded the evening in a very amiable manner, wishing success to reform." at the present time when comprehensive schemes of old age pensions are talked of which may, if carried out, transform much of the present character of relief of the poor, it will perhaps be of interest to glance at the state of things just before the introduction of the present poor-law had worked a complete parochial revolution. there is, i imagine, a general impression amongst us, when we ever turn our thoughts back to the subject, that the remarkable shaking of the dry bones during the reform bill period, which culminated in the great measure of , was merely a matter of politics--that john bull was only buying a new broom to sweep away here and there an old sarum, and dust the benches of st. stephen's for new company and--_voilà tout_! the nation was reformed at a stroke! yet that was not all by any means. in most of the rural districts of england there were parishes, not here and there, but parishes by shoals, presenting a state of things more rotten and more demoralizing than anything that the annals of borough-mongering could furnish. { } then the great bulk of the poor people in our villages held to the sentiment expressed in the lines-- come let us drink, sing, and be merry, for the parish is bound to maintain us! when the ratepayers began to assert themselves the pauper element broke out in open riot and incendiarism. then came severe penal measures, poor-law commissions, and an awakening of the national conscience to the fact that there was something besides political old sarums to reform if the salt in john bull's family cupboard was not to entirely lose its savour. a state of things was disclosed in many villages in rural england at which the more thoughtful stood aghast, for under the sacred name of charity, laziness and immorality, unblushing and impudent, were found to be feeding the stream of pauperism and eating out the vitals of our country life. at the root of the domestic and social ruin which the old poor-law was silently but surely spreading through our villages, lay the two principal factors of labour and public morals--the farmers paying low wages and the parish making up the difference according to the number of a man's family, and the lax way in which bastardy was dealt with by the parish. as to royston, in , when the commissioners were appointed to inquire into the laws affecting the relief of the poor, there were fifty agricultural labourers in the town; wages nine or ten shillings a week without beer; the magistrates required an allowance to be made from the rates to make up earnings, according to the number in family, but, it is added, that "this system is objected to by this parish." "the desire to build the largest number of cottages upon the smallest space and with no ground attached was strongly condemned," but the seed had been sown and the harvest is still with us. upon the subject of making up a labourer's pay out of the parish funds, and the labourer looking to the overseer to pay him when he was not at work, a remarkable test case occurred in royston, of which i transcribe the following particulars from the parish books-- "there is a difference of opinion existing between the parishioners of this parish and some very respectable and intelligent magistrates acting for this neighbourhood. the magistrates think it is within their jurisdiction (if they are convinced of its necessity) to order overseers to pay money to able-bodied labourers in full employment by private individuals, in order to make up their earnings to a sum considered by the magistrates necessary for the support of their families." this the parishioners seemed inclined to resist, and it is added--"the parishioners consider that if the overseer be ordered to make up the wages of one farmer's labourers, he may be ordered to go round the parish and make up the wages of every labourer. it would then be the { } interest of every master to lower his wages and throw as much of them as possible on to the poor rates. the poor rates might thus be enormously increased and those ratepayers not employing labourers might be crushed." upon this subject the parish officials and two of the local magistrates, the rev. h. morice and rev. t. sissons, got into conflict; for we learn from a communication to the commissioners, that the royston select vestry, refusing to add to a labourer's pay, the overseers were actually summoned before the magistrates for hertfordshire to show cause why they should not make him an addition to the pay he received in full employment. two labourers, john james and joseph wood, of royston, having been refused additions to their wages by the parish, applied to the magistrates in petty sessions, and the magistrates making a verbal order upon the overseers to make up the wages to a certain sum, the assistant overseer put it off until he had seen the select vestry. a few days after, he says he was taking a ride with one of the overseers and met the rev. henry morice driving his carriage with the man wood riding behind. observing them, he pulled up and said, "mr. docura, here is this man wood who says that you refuse to relieve him as we ordered you on wednesday last!" mr. docura admitted the fact, upon which the rev. gentleman said, "i wish i had given you a written order!" mr. docura: "if you had, i have orders to resist them to the utmost." the rev. t. morice upon this, in the presence of wood and another labourer, exclaimed in a violent passion, "it would serve you right if your town was burnt down; you richly deserve it!" and then ordered the man wood to come to him at some other time. a few days afterwards the overseers received a summons to appear at the rev. thomas sissons', at wallington, to show cause, &c. the overseers naturally resented being dragged to wallington, and wrote a letter asking for the case to come before the ordinary sessions at royston, as one of the overseers was ill. the suggested alteration was not acceded to, however, and one of the overseers and the assistant had to go to wallington before the rev. thos. sissons and rev. john lafont. the magistrates first tried to persuade the overseer by appealing to his feelings, and then to intimidate by pointing out the consequences of his refusal to comply with their order, but he was proof against both, and said if they thought proper to make an order he was under the necessity to say that he must refuse complying with it. upon which they gave him till wednesday to consider, and if he did not comply by that time they would certainly give an order and enforce it. { } they had orders to appear again on the wednesday, "but for some unaccountable cause the men did not appear, to the joy, apparently, of the magistrates and overseers, since which time they have not tried to enforce it, but we have since had good reason to suppose that they have not either forgotten or forgiven us." so ended the attempt to enforce a legal right to supplement wages, which was acted upon in all the surrounding parishes. everything seemed to conspire to make the labourer a pauper even if he would aspire to independence, until, through early and improvident marriages, the lax treatment of bastardy, &c., paupers became a glut in the market so to speak, and, finding the doles less satisfactory in consequence, discontent, riot, and incendiarism, manifested themselves in many places; hence the inuendo of the rev. mr. morice, the magistrate, about the town being burnt. at gamlingay the overseer was summoned before a magistrate six miles off because he had a difference with the paupers about their parish pay. on the day of their attendance something prevented the case being heard, and on their return to gamlingay, all together, they passed the house of another magistrate about two miles from home when the overseer said, "now, my lads, here we are close by; i'll give you a pint of beer each if you'll come and have it settled at once without giving me any more trouble about it." the proposal was rejected without hesitation! it may be appropriate here to give a few instances of the way in which paupers were pampered, and extracts from the commissioners' report as to how the old system of relief worked in the villages-- "an inhabitant of a large village near newmarket has taken out a certificate for killing game and actually goes out shooting with his pointer and gun, although at this time he has s. weekly allowance from the parish as a pauper, and during last year received s. d. weekly." in one small parish containing persons, only of them, including the clergyman and his family, were supporting themselves by their own exertions! in many villages the expenditure in out-relief--chiefly in orders upon village shops for flour, clothes, butter, cheese, &c.--amounted to from l to l per head of the population, that is, a village with a population of a thousand persons would expend l , a year in "relieving" pauperism. it seems incredible, yet it is in black and white in the commissioners' report, that at westoning, in bedfordshire, there was scarcely an able-bodied labourer in the parish in the employment of private individuals who was not at the same time receiving his allowance from the parish! { } as to rent and taxes from cottage property, under such circumstances these too often had to be paid or remitted by the parishes. thus the royston overseers state:--"we have omitted rating the cottages to the number of , occupied by labourers and low mechanics, owing to the difficulty of collecting the money and the ill-will it engendered amongst the cottagers towards the parish authorities." "order'd that mr. simons apply to the justices and inquire of them whether they can compel labourers who have decent earnings to pay their rent"! the following incidents are mentioned from over in cambridgeshire:-- "a widow with two children had been in receipt of s. a week from the parish, and was able to live upon this. she afterwards married a butcher, and still the allowance of s. for the children was continued. but the butcher and his bride came to the overseer and said 'they were not going to keep _those children_ for s. a week, and if a further allowance was not made _they should turn them out of doors_ and throw them on the parish altogether.' the overseers resisted; the butcher appealed to the magistrates, who recommended him to make the best arrangement he could as the parish was obliged to support the children"! the law and its administration, on behalf of the parish, actually put a valuable premium on bastardy. the parish beadle was tempted to bribe the young woman to lay an information against someone in another parish, "a compulsory marriage" was brought about and the woman and bastard, and all future liability, were sometimes got rid of at one stroke! a parish beadle, in addition to looking after little oliver twists, often had these delicate negotiations to manage, and whether mr. bumble was able to ingratiate himself with 'mrs. corney' or not, he often did a good stroke of business for his parish in the matrimonial market, when, as i have mentioned in an earlier chapter, a labourer could not even go into another parish to work without a certificate from the parish he belonged to. in the report of the commission, to which i have referred, occurs this significant little item:-- "a beadle in a small district assured me he had alone effected fifty marriages of this description in the course of a few years." the labour market was the parish, and this was completely disorganised and demoralised. the old law of settlement made it practically impossible for labour to find the best market. even if a young man had an offer of a situation in another part of the country at double wages he would often refuse to go lest he should "lose his parish," or it might be that the parish where he was asked to go was considered a "bad" parish compared with his own. each parish { } was thus considered as a sort of freehold, with a family cupboard bound to provide for nil its children. it was almost impossible for any individual farmer to stand out and follow an independent course, for if he paid his men full wages he would also, as a ratepayer, be paying part of the wages for the other farmers in the parish. in some cases the masters combined with the men and gave false certificates as to the amount of their wages in order to get more "make up" from their parish. the farmer preferred to employ men with large families to keep them off the parish, but single young men, finding they were not wanted, contracted early and improvident marriages, to make sure of being "provided for by the parish." population increased to beyond the requirements for local industry; the law of settlement was squeezed to the utmost against removals, and thus the farmer was creating the nemesis he was seeking to flee from. in many cases wages were as low as s. per week, the difference being made up according to the labourer's increasing family, and "if he makes more, still he receives his allowance in order that industry may not be discouraged." at over on one occasion, mr. robinson, the overseer, refused payment to men who would not keep their proper hours at work upon the road. "they complained to the bench at cambridge, and beat him as usual," so says the report, and not only that, but they returned home wearing favours in their hats and button-holes, and in the evening collected in a body before mr. robinson's house and shouted in triumph! the report for the parish of bottisham showed that the effect of the scale for single young men when not working, or receiving less wage than the scale, was that one family, consisting of man, wife, and seven children, were entitled to and were at that time receiving s. d. a week (over and above their earnings) from the parish, several of the sons being grown up! "at little shelford," says the commissioner, "a worse case than this was given me by the acting overseer, of one family, a man, wife, and four sons, living together, receiving s. weekly from the parish"! the effect of this pauperising system could not fail to be very disastrous--it placed a direct premium upon idleness, as a man was sure of a living from the rates even if he did not work, and also a bounty upon wages, or an inducement for the farmer to pay a much lower wage than he could afford. the ultimate effect of both these circumstances was that there was such a large amount of pauper labour that it became necessary, in order to relieve the rates, to take care that such labour should be employed before any other. in some cases the unemployed men were actually put up to auction, or rather { } their labour, and an instance is mentioned in the commissioners' report of ten men in one parish being knocked down to one farmer for five shillings, and that out of a body of men, were let in this manner! the parish also meddled and muddled in the labour market by making a contract with some individual to have certain work performed by the paupers at a given price, the parish paying the paupers. the making of the newmarket road cutting, near royston, was an instance of this. parochial affairs presented this extraordinary condition of things that for the industrious, thrifty man who was desirous of laying up something for a rainy day, there was no hope! take the following, which i copy verbatim from the commissioners' report-- "we have already quoted from mr. cowell's report a letter from mr. nash, of royston, in which he states that he had been forced by the overseer of reed to dismiss two excellent labourers for the purpose of introducing two paupers into their place. mr. nash adds that of the men dismissed, one, "was john walford, a parishioner of barley, a steady, industrious, trustworthy, single man, who, by long and rigid economy, had saved about l . on being dismissed, walford applied in vain to the farmers at barley for employment! _it was known that he had saved money, and could not come on the parish, although any of them would willingly have taken him had it been otherwise_! after living a few months without being able to get any work he bought a cart and two horses, and has ever since obtained a precarious subsistence by carrying corn to london for use of the cambridge merchants; but just now the current of corn is northward and he has nothing to do; and at any time he would gladly have exchanged his employment for that of a day labourer, if he could have obtained work. no reflection is intended on the overseers of barley; they only do what all others are expected to do; though the young men point at walford and call him a fool for not spending his money at a public-house as they do; adding that then he would get work"! a somewhat similar instance is supplied to the commissioners by mr. wedd who is spoken of in the report as "an eminent solicitor of royston." here is another case:--"a man without children in this neighbourhood emerged from poverty and bequeathed many pecuniary legacies, some l apiece, and others larger and smaller, to a number of agricultural labourers who were his distant relatives. as soon as the legacies are paid the legatees would not be able to obtain any employment in husbandry until the legacies are spent! the employment in this parish is all wanted for those who from deep poverty can claim it of the overseers, and these legatees will have no { } title to claim employment till they have reduced themselves again to poverty by having spent all their legacies!" it was not, however, so much in favour of the farmer as the system might seem, for they got the worst of the labour--of the two whom mr. nash was obliged to take in the above instance, one killed a valuable mare, and the other he was obliged to prosecute for stealing corn--for the farmer was obliged to take his share of the unemployed labour, and often had a dozen idle worthless men on his hands at times when five or six would have done the work. those of us to whom the memory of the bent-backed figure of the "wheat-barn tasker" in every village, is now but a dim vision of the past, can hardly realize how bitter must have been the feeling when the threshing machine came to do away with the flail. a simple matter it may seem, yet the peasant revolt which it brought about was for the time more universal, and more effective, than wat tyler's rebellion, because, without wat tyler's organization, it found a means of working in every village. to the mind of the labourer this uprooting of the habitual daily work of a thousand years, taken in connection with the coming movement against allowing the labourer to go to the overseer to make up his wages out of the rates--these things together presented to his mind an outlook which was bad enough to arouse the sluggish mind of the peasant in every village. so he set about upon a course of retaliation and unreasoning revenge. the threshing machine was threatening their work, and so upon the threshing machine wherever they found it the labourers set with a vengeance. the effects of that vengeance are traceable in the criminal returns for the period. thus the number of criminals for trial for malicious offences against property, which for the previous five or six years had scarcely averaged fifty a year, in the year went up at a hound to a total of , , of which no less than were for "destroying threshing machines." riots, incendiarism, and sending letters threatening to burn houses, &c., also went up almost to a corresponding extent. one or two local examples of pauper insolence and tyranny may be given from the commissioners' report:-- "the tone assumed by the paupers towards those who dispense relief is generally very insolent and often assumes a more fearful character. at great gransden, the overseer's wife told me that two days before my visit, two paupers came to her husband demanding an increase of allowance; he refused them, showing them that they had the full allowance sanctioned by the magistrates' scale; they swore, and threatened he should repent of it; and such was their violence, that she called them back, and prevailed on her husband to make them further allowance. mr. faircloth, by a stricter system, reduced the rates at croydon; he became unpopular among the labourers, and after { } harvest they gathered in a riotous body about his threshing machine and broke it to pieces. at guilden morden, in the same neighbourhood, a burning took place of mr. butterfield's stacks to the amount of l , damage. mr. butterfield was overseer, and the magistrates have committed, on strong circumstantial evidence, a man to whom he had denied relief, because he had refused to work for it. i have found that the apprehension of this dreadful and easily perpetrated mischief has greatly affected the minds of the rural parish officers, making the power of the paupers over the funds provided for their relief almost absolute as regards any discretion of the overseers." report of mr. power, assistant commissioner for cambs.:-- "if an overseer refuses relief, or gives less than the pauper thinks himself entitled to, he (the overseer) was liable to be summoned before justices to defend himself against the charge of inhumanity and oppression, and unhappily the applicant, who has been refused relief, has frequently recourse to a much more summary remedy than the interference of the magistrates. the tribunal which enforces it sits, not at the petty sessions, but at the beershop--it compels obedience, not by summons and distress, but by violence and conflagration. the most painful and the most formidable portion of our evidence, consists of the proof that in many districts the principal obstacle to improvement is the well-founded dread of these atrocities." but worse than mere insolence of words were the acts of lawlessness and crime which prevailed. these items occur in a number of typical questions and answers in the report of the commissioners, extracts from which i give below, with the name of the overseers or other informants:-- bourn (mr. whittet.) the poverty which compelled the farmer to use the threshing machine, bore down the labourer to unprecedented distress, and drove him to desperation. fowlmere. the lawlessness, &c., here was "chiefly attributable to a long course of bad execution of the poor-laws. the cause of the riots and fires was chiefly the cruel policy of paying the single men much below the fair rate of wages. the object of the riots and fires was the same, not the wanton destruction of property, but to obtain higher wages which was too generally the result. "immediately after the fire at guilden morden, in , i went to the parish and found the farmers assembled in vestry, the very morning after the fire, consulting what they had better do to put their labourers in a better state by raising their wages. i remonstrated with them upon the impolicy of doing it then, as it would be a bonus for such wickedness." [william metcalfe and william wedd.] { } meldreth. john burr (churchwarden) gives this answer:-- "keep up the price of labour or there will be always cause to fear." a very fair echo of the guilden morden farmers' sentiments referred to above. royston. dissatisfaction at the decreased parish allowance tended to produce these acts of insubordination. [gamaliel docura, vestry clerk and assistant overseer.] wimpole. the fires were lighted up by malice in the breasts of the labourers because the farmers pinched them in their wages; the riots may be called an effort to recover their former rate of wages, and answered their object. [robert withers, land agent.] stotfold. at stotfold the late mr. john george fordham, of royston, with a foresight and courage that did him lasting credit, used his influence, at personal risk to himself, in suppressing the riots. during the years of - , a period of great discontent ensued, and incendiary fires continued to be of alarming frequency. ashwell and bassingbourn suffered severely. of the former it is said that nearly all one side of the place was burned, and of the latter, in the course of three or four years, most of the farm homesteads were destroyed. the fires at shelford deserve notice here, on account of the remarkable circumstances surrounding them. in the first place the perpetrator, john stallan, was the last man executed for the crime of arson, and in the second place his conviction was brought about by a strange piece of circumstantial evidence. stallan was a labourer of respectable character and in constant work, and became one of the men attached to the fire engine. the fire in respect to which he was convicted, was discovered in time for the owner to run to it and pull out some of the thatch, and with it came out a ball of rag, and in it a piece of ignited tinder. this was found on examination to be made up of material including a piece of a lady's dress of which the pattern was distinct, and was found to be a piece of a dress given by a mrs. headley, to stallan's wife, the remaining part of the dress being found in his cottage! he was arrested, and at first tried to fix the taking of the rag for the tinder upon a half-witted lad, but being unable to shield himself behind this subterfuge, he next went so far as to try and fix the crime upon his own wife, and again in this he conspicuously failed, and at the cambs. assizes was convicted and sentenced to be hung, and was executed in december, , after confessing that he had been the author of all the ten shelford fires, and that his only motive for { } committing the crimes was _to get the ale and the money he received for helping to extinguish the fires_! under such a condition of things as that described above, the farmer had considerable difficulty in getting any insurance offices to insure his produce. one notable riot occurred at fowlmere (about - ). warrants were obtained for the apprehension of the ringleaders, and for executing this warrant the earl of hardwicke, as lord lieutenant, came to royston and swore in about twenty special constables, whose ornamental staves sometimes turn up now amongst local curiosities. these constables went over to fowlmere on horseback, under the command of a justice of the peace, mr. hawkins, who then lived at the priory, and was an uncle of mr. justice hawkins. on arriving at fowlmere the posse of armed "specials" found most of the labouring population of the village--male and female--assembled in the open space near the swan, armed with sticks and other weapons, prepared to resist the execution of the warrant! after some persuasion and the reading of the riot act, a skirmish ensued, in which sticks, fire-irons and shovels, mixed with constables' staves, produced some cuts and bruises, and some torn clothes. eventually the party of the law triumphed, the ringleaders were secured, and marched off under escort of the special constables to cambridge gaol. out of the parochial inertia and the demoralization, discontent and lawlessness, which we have seen springing up, a full crop, from the old poor-law, the commission of presented a report which left no alternative but a sweeping measure of reform of the parochial life if england was to be saved from its own children, who, living a parasitical life, were eating away the vitals of that upon which they thrived. salvation from within the parish was now well-nigh impossible. so the new poor-law of swept away the parish as a unit of poor-law administration--the churchwardens and overseers were no longer to meet after service in church to consider applications for relief or the apprenticing of pauper children. the new order provided for grouping a score, more or less, of such parishes into a union, with some uniform system of administration which should be less dependent upon the circumstances and prejudices of an individual parish. the royston union was formed in , consisting of parishes in herts., cambs., and essex, as at present. the first chairman was john bendyshe, esq., j.p., of kneesworth, and john george fordham, esq., was vice-chairman. mr. henry thurnall was appointed clerk (an office he continued to hold for forty years), mr. thomas wortham, auditor, and mr. j. e. fordham, of melbourn bury, treasurer. { } for the purposes of the administration of relief, the union was at first divided into three districts, or divisions as they were called, and a relieving officer for each was appointed at l a year salary. this arrangement, however, only lasted a short time, and a re-arrangement was made dividing the union into two districts as at present, with a relieving officer for each at a salary of l a year. previous to the erection of the "central workhouse," as it was at first called, the guardians held their meetings weekly at the red lion inn, on fridays, and the first meeting held on rd july, , lasted, we are told, from ten o'clock in the morning to four o'clock in the afternoon. one of the first acts of the new authority was to secure a suitable site for the erection of a workhouse upon, and having secured of mr. luke his meadow in baldock street, plans were drawn up by mr. william thomas nash for a building to accommodate inmates; the contract for the building was obtained, and carried out by mr. gray, of litlington, and a loan of l , was obtained from the loan commissioners. before the new order of things had gone far, and ere the walls of the workhouse were up, the paupers of the old school set up a sort of vested interest in the old order, became dangerously discontented at the prospect of having to work, and the ill-advised action of individuals fanned this into a flame of indignation under which the pauperised element in the villages was encouraged to look upon the great central workhouse arising on the borders of royston heath as a sort of bastille, where for the misfortune of being poor they were to be shut away from their kith and kin, and no longer to have any claim upon the overseer for that convenient subsidy of "making up" whenever they did not think well to work. so strong did the feeling become that there were disturbances in several parishes, especially in the two mordens, where the opprobrious relieving officer met with anything but a friendly reception on his first visits, and certain individuals from that parish, on applying for relief, found that the supply was cut off until it was safe for the relieving officer to enter their parish! about the same time a dreadful fire occurred at bassingbourn which was so closely associated in the popular mind with the prevailing discontent that the services of a "bow street runner" to scour the district in search of the incendiary were paid for out of the rates. efforts were made to reconcile the inhabitants in the villages to the new order of things, and for a very sensible letter or address to the inhabitants which was written (and printed and circulated) by the late mr. henry thurnall, the writer was specially commended by the poor-law commissioners. { } another active and sagacious worker in the cause of popularising the reform was mr. john george fordham (the vice-chairman of the board), who did not hesitate to pay repeated visits to all parts of the district during the riots already described, and endeavoured by every reasonable means to quell the popular irritation which had existed for some time before the formation of the union in anticipation of the new poor-law. for similar services to these, mr. fordham had already received the thanks of lord verulam, lord lieutenant of hertfordshire, and was placed on the commission of the peace as a magistrate for hertfordshire, the first nonconformist to be made a county magistrate for herts. by the time the new central workhouse at royston was built, the worst forms of popular discontent would have subsided but for the action of one or two individuals of note upon whom it is fitting that a few words should here be bestowed. the principal agents were two clergymen in the district--the rev. thomas clack, curate of guilden morden, and the rev. frederick herbert maberley, curate of bourn, cambs., who had for some time convened meetings of agricultural labourers in their own and surrounding parishes, and harangued them upon the supposed horrors of the new _poor-law prison_ to which they would be consigned if they did not rise as one man to stand up for their rights! growing bolder in their agitation these gentlemen conceived the design of calling a monster meeting from all the parishes belonging to the royston union, to be held on royston heath in front of the unfinished building. an attack upon, and the demolition of the building, was freely talked about and expected, and from the temper which had been already displayed in former riots, the event was looked forward to with some anxiety! the handbill convening the meeting was of an inflammatory kind, and the new board of guardians thought it necessary to call a special meeting of their body at the red lion to decide what should be done. the outcome of this meeting was that the clerk (mr. thurnall), mr. w. t. nash, and mr. john phillips were appointed a deputation to wait upon the poor-law commissioners and upon the home secretary, to see what measures they would advise, for the parish constable and the beadle, and the swearing in of special constables was about all that the local authority could muster for the preservation of the peace. this deputation waited upon lord john russell, then home secretary, with the result that an inspector and a sufficient police force were promised to be despatched from london to royston on the day before that announced for the meeting. letters were also sent to the lord lieutenants of both counties, and to the promoters of the meeting, warning the latter of their responsibility should any serious disturbance occur. { } the day appointed for the meeting was wednesday, nd june, . inside the unfinished building on the morning of that day there is a strange and an anxious company assembled--the earl of hardwicke, lord lieutenant of cambridgeshire, is there, several local magistrates, several of the guardians, and a posse of about a score of metropolitan police (the county police, as we now know them, had not then come into existence), all assembled to await the threatened storming of the bastille, as the new workhouse was called by the agitators! it was market day and the town and neighbourhood of royston were in a considerable state of alarm and excitement, in consequence of the expected meeting. the handbill convening the meeting had been freely circulated, calling upon the labouring population to "come in thousands" and assemble opposite the new _poor-law prison_! this address was signed by the rev. h. f. maberley. the magistrates of the division issued a caution to the people, and this was placarded about the neighbouring villages, warning all persons that if any breach of the peace took place, every individual present would be liable to be apprehended and punished according to law. as a further precaution, "a most efficient body of police" was sent down under the command of inspector harpur, as stated above. meanwhile there was, we are told, by the old chronicler, [_cambridge chronicle_] "a deep feeling among the upper and middle classes of society, that imminent danger to the public peace was to be apprehended from a meeting of the labourers called to petition on the subject of the new poor-law opposite a new unfinished house of considerable extent, by a handbill characterising the new building as a new poor-law prison, and therefore no one chose to interfere in the discussions of the meeting." "the labourers, with a large proportion of women and children, continued to arrive in wagons, carts, and on foot, all through the morning, and they sat down opposite the workhouse on the road side." being questioned they said "they expected they had come to pull down the workhouse, but they were waiting for the gentlemen who called the meeting"! they "appeared to consider their object one of ordinary duty, as they spoke without excitement or intemperate language." soon after o'clock the clerical champion, rev. h. f. maberley, arrived, accompanied by the rev. t. clack, curate of guilden morden, and they soon commenced the great business of demonstrating, but possibly from hearing of the home secretary's reinforcements, they assembled the people on the heath a distance of a quarter-of-a-mile from the workhouse, and mr. clack opened the proceedings in a jubilant strain with a scriptural quotation, "this is the day the lord has made; we will rejoice and be glad in it." some , persons, of whom at least two-thirds were said to have been { } women and children, listened to the harangue "with listless indifference," possibly because words did not pull the building down. the rev. h. f. maberley declaimed against separating old men and women and the prospective hardships of the new order of things. the whole proceedings lasted several hours, and a storm of rain did not help the ardour of the crusaders. at the conclusion, however, the people drew the rev. gentlemen in a wagon through some of the streets of the town and the threatened storm passed off without any breach of the peace occurring. the chronicle of the time says:--"the labourers went away apparently dissatisfied with the result, having learned nothing to instruct them," and "the whole was the completest failure ever experienced as to any public meeting." the guardians laid the matter before the bishop of the diocese as to the conduct of the clergymen named, but in the general satisfaction at the peaceful ending of the affair, things gradually settled down into the system as we now know it. the old parish workhouses were sold, pulled down, or otherwise dealt with, and the proceeds were in some cases invested in consols and still appear occasionally as an item to the credit of the parish in parochial balance sheets. the royston parish workhouse on the warren was sold by auction and realized l , leaving, after expenses and the paying of a parish loan, advanced by mr. phillips, a balance of l . the new workhouse was commenced in october, , upon the site of an old barn the property of mr. luke, which had just been blown down. it was finished in september, , the royston paupers being removed from the old workhouse on the warren and those from the villages brought in, notwithstanding the indignation of the revs. maberley and clack. for some years the new system was the subject of not a little hostile criticism and the meetings were not always harmonious. the poor-law expenditure under the old system and the new showed a striking contrast. for the whole country before the new system, and for the last two years under the old, the amount of the poor-rate was l , , , and for the two years immediately afterwards the rate was l , , , showing a reduction of more than one-third of the expenditure. in some cases in the rural districts the figures were much more remarkable, and in one parish in the buntingford union the expenditure for the last year under the old system was l , and the first under the new it was less than l . it may be that-- who holds a power but newly gained is ever stern of mood. even so, there was certainly plenty of room both for reform without hardship, and considerateness with economy. { } it is mentioned in the parliamentary returns that in the royston union in the winter of , the number of able-bodied men maintained during the winter out of the poor-rate was , whereas in the month of december, , after the new system had got into operation, there were only twelve applications for "work or money." all these had orders for the house, which were accepted by seven of them, two of whom stayed in only two days, three only stayed in three days, and two, seven days each. the amounts spent in relief of the poor at earlier periods, in the reign of george iii., were as follows:--in (the year of scarcity), l , , ; in , it had risen to l , , ; and in each of the years, - , the figures reached l , , , a figure which was not again reached till . the late mr. henry thurnall, though then but a young man, took an active part in collecting evidence for the poor-law commission in this district, and also in reconciling the working men to the new order of things, and he was the author of a pamphlet in the form of an address by a working-man to working-men, addressed to "the labourers of england," from which it appears that in some places the new relieving officer was at first so unpopular that he was pelted when he came into the villages to pay out his relief money! chapter xvi. when the policeman came.--when the railway came.--curious and memorable events. with the abolition of the old poor-law the parish constable, as he was understood in the georgian era, found a large part of his occupation gone. those important journeys of dogberry on the delicate errand of marrying off young couples who promised otherwise to be a trouble to his parish, with all the pleasant suppers, breakfasts, dinners, and beer at inns on the road, of which the reader has been afforded some evidence in the parish accounts of the last century--all this interesting part of the village dogberry's parochial dignity passed away, and there were even rumours that the constable would no longer be entrusted with the hue-and-cry after criminals into neighbouring parishes. verily the world was getting turned upside down in these reforming days! but before we come to the actual disestablishment of dogberry there are a few other matters affecting parish life which were getting ready to be reformed. there were, for instance, tramps even in those { } days, and, like paupers, they knew upon which side their bread was buttered, and how to turn the prevailing system to the best account. they were accommodated at the public houses, and the publicans sent in their bills to the overseers. if a tramp wished to take it easy and stay a few days at a comfortable hostelry he did so, and it went down in the publican's bill against the overseer. sometimes this sort of thing was carried a little too far, as at royston in , when the vestry:-- "ordered that w. wilson's bill be paid and caution him, with others who lodge vagrants, that in future their bills will not be allowed if they suffer them [that is of course the vagrants and not the bills] to remain more than one night without an order from the overseer." but to return to dogberry and his blue-coated successor. there was a good deal of opposition at first to the idea of a police force under the management of a county body. the idea of disestablishing the parish beadle and the constable was distasteful in itself, and the notion that they could be improved upon was rather laughed at. for years after the "men in blue" came upon the scene they were known as "peelers," and have hardly got rid of the "bobby" part of sir robert peel's name even yet. so divided was public opinion on the subject that the hertfordshire quarter sessions only adopted the new system by one vote--the vote, as it turned out, of mr. john george fordham, of royston, who had been but recently appointed a magistrate, and, i think, went on this occasion and voted for the first time in this division. no man knew better the need of a change, or the general ineffectiveness of the parish constable in the face of the disturbances which had for some years previously been witnessed in many villages. what the first cost of the "man in blue" was i am unable to say, but the first report of the constabulary force commissioners contained the following estimate for a police force for hertfordshire:-- superintendent at l per annum sergeants at l s. d. per week constables at s. d. " " clothing for men at l s. d. per annum total cost . . . . l , s. d. " " man to , acres, and , persons. it may be of interest here to make a comparison with to-day, and this shows, i think, that in place of one superintendent there are seven, besides a chief constable, that there are inspectors, a rank unknown in the above estimate, sergeants against fifty years ago, and constables against of fifty years ago, with a considerable improvement in pay, viz., from the s. estimate of fifty years ago to the s. d. to s. d., according to class--the present pay for constables in the herts. constabulary. { } we are sometimes reminded of a tendency to extravagance in county expenditure in hertfordshire compared with cambridgeshire. i do not know how far this may have held good historically, but certainly there is evidence of it when the policeman came. a few years after the establishment of the forces for herts. and cambs. the latter county had police at an annual cost of l , s. d., and hertfordshire had police at a cost of l , s. d. the new system was not so sudden a commencement as we may suppose, and at first depended upon the inhabitants meeting the expense if they wished for the luxury of a policeman in their midst. hence in it was recorded that "in consequence of petty thefts and depredations committed in baldock, it has been proposed that a police officer should be stationed there and a subscription has been set on foot by the inhabitants for that purpose." in four policemen were sworn in for royston and the neigbourhood, and yet two years afterwards, in , some persons in royston appear to have signed a petition against having a force of rural police--against allowing to the village the same police protection that the town and neighbourhood had already obtained for itself. these were, however, exceptional cases, and the system of a county force soon became general. the fact is that the old parish constable was a rough and ready means of dealing with the social and domestic sides of law and order, but on the criminal side he was of little use. he could clap a brawling man in the stocks, or use his good offices in marrying a pauper and getting her off the rates on to those of another parish, but when it came to a question of serious crime he was useless beyond carrying forward the "hue and cry" from his own to the next parish. but the greatest of all the forces at work, breaking the life of the reform period from its old moorings, had already begun, and stephenson's triumph over chat moss had determined the great transition in the social life and customs between the georgian and victorian eras. at first the nearest railway station to royston was broxbourne on the great eastern, and in order to shorten the driving journey to london, gentlemen and tradesmen rose early in the morning and drove from places in cambs. and north herts, to broxbourne to join the new conveyance, the engine of which frightened the passengers as it drew up at the station! it was not an uncommon sight i am told to see a muster of all kinds of vehicles drawn up in rows at broxbourne from all parts of the north-east of hertfordshire, and there left to await their owners' return. the start had, of course, to be made at a very early hour in the morning to get to broxbourne by eight or nine o'clock--" m.p. " ( minutes past ), was the manner of printing the first time tables. { } as to the accommodation, at first the guard of a train in some cases sat perched on a back seat of the last carriage outside! like a cab driver, but things had already begun to improve a little at the time i am writing of. here is a description by one of the old royston travellers of a journey from broxbourne to london. "at first the rd class carriages were open, like cattle trucks, and without seats, and when seats were added they were very rough ones. later on the open carriages were improved by placing iron hoops over the top and tarpauling over these, something after the fashion of a railway van in our streets now. a smartly-dressed young man in his sunday best, desiring to appear to great advantage in london, would find his white waistcoat--which was generally worn in those days--a very sorry spectacle, after standing in an open carriage and catching the smoke of the engine, from which there was no protection! on one occasion there was a very great pressure in the train up from broxbourne to london, and one of these rd class carriages with the iron hoop and tarpauling roof over it was so full that the pressure on the wheels and consequent friction began to produce sparks and then smoke! all the passengers were in a terrified state! some of them set to work trying to tear the tarpauling away from the roof in order to communicate with the guard, but unfortunately the tarpauling seemed to be the strongest part of the carriage, and it appeared to be a case of all being burned to death before the train stopped! at last one young fellow becoming more desperate, got his head through the top of the carriage--that is through the tarpauling--and had his high top hat carried away by the breeze; but succeeded in getting sight of the guard perched on behind. when the train came to the next station there was a general stampede and most of the passengers refused to go any further. a few of them were obliged to go on, and the reduced weight and lessened friction removed all further danger." after the above period the great northern company came upon the scene in hertfordshire; but frightened not a few people by the formidable character of its undertaking near welwyn, for before the famous digswell viaduct had spanned the picturesque valley of tewin, or the tunnels had pierced the last barrier of the hills, it is said that many persons who had invested heavily in great northern shares, began to tremble in their shoes, owing to the enormous expense, and a person with enough foresight and judgment might have bought up, for a small amount, shares enough to have made him a wealthy man for the rest of his life! the railway did not touch the neighbourhood of royston until much of the novelty of the change, and also of the opposition to it had passed away. the opposition to it here was therefore one of a competitive and interested character, rather than of prejudice against { } george stephenson and his iron horse. owing to the opposition of lord mornington in the interest of the great eastern railway company, the royston and hitchin railway was prevented running into cambridge, and ran only as far as shepreth, hence the joint use of a part of the line, after it was carried on to cambridge. the first effect of a railway in any neighbourhood was felt upon the conveyance and upon the price of the necessities of life. reference has already been made in an earlier sketch to the difficulties of getting coals from cambridge, thirteen miles along bad roads to royston, and it may be added that the first year after the railway to royston was opened, the price of coal was so much reduced that the gain to the townspeople was calculated to be sufficient to pay all the rates for the year! the shares of the royston and hitchin company, whose work of construction involved much less difficulty than the part of the main line already referred to, were at one time sold at a discount though carrying a guaranteed six per cent. dividend, and they are now worth, i suppose, about per cent. more than they cost. the accommodation at first was not as luxurious as it is now. some of the carriages on this line, were at first open at the sides like cattle trucks, and at a pinch on market day cattle trucks were attached and the passengers stood up in them! * * * * * * * * having already exceeded the bounds of time and space contemplated for these sketches, and travelled a little beyond the period indicated by the title, the writer might here, in a few words, have taken leave of his task, but for the fact that he finds himself still in possession of a small collection of troublesome "fragments," some of them of peculiar interest, which would not lend themselves very readily to being classified or blended together into any of the foregoing chapters. these fragments are chiefly short paragraph records of local events, on a multitude of topics, and therefore must be treated as such, and thrown as far as possible into chronological order. . cooper thornhill, of the bell inn, stilton, near huntingdon--in whose house, from the hands of a relative, mistress paulet, originated stilton cheese--this year achieved a remarkable feat of horsemanship by way of royston to london; riding for guineas from stilton to london, miles, in hours and minutes. . in this year, on august th, occurred a fire which is memorable in the annals of barkway. the record preserved in the parish papers consists chiefly of the accounts of the losses, but it is sufficient to show that there must have been nineteen houses burned, { } and, as the losses were for small amounts, probably nearly all of them cottages. i give a few of the articles and items of loss and expense-- a publican and farmer lost "hogsheads bare"; l in wine, l in "sider" (cider), cheeses, silver spoons, "a chest of lining [linen] l ," and claimant's sister lost in "lining" and other things l , and there are " trenchers," earthenware and wooden dishes, &c., &c. john sharp--my lost at the fier as folows-- in weat . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . housal goods to the valuer . . . . . . . . . . in wood to valuer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . l expense at royston for two engins and buckets expense at buntingford for engine and bucketts l : : . on the th june, , there was a fire at biggleswade, which in the space of less than five hours burnt down one hundred and three dwelling-houses and nine maltings. the want of water and the rapidity of the flames, with the falling of the houses, being so dreadful, little good could be done till evening, when the fire was happily stopped. upwards of houses in the middle of the town were burnt down, with all the shops, warehouses, stables, &c., adjoining. it is generally supposed to have been wilfully occasioned. . june rd, the roy-stone, at royston, was removed from the cross to the market hill by order of g. wortham, surveyor. [removed to present site in institute garden, .] there was a remarkable frost in , when among other fatal results of the rigour of the season, a maltster named pyman, of royston, when returning home from kelshall, was frozen to death, and a butcher's boy taking meat from royston to morden met with the same fate. . in the following awful visitation of divine vengeance befell a man near hitchin, in hertfordshire. he had applied to a magistrate, and informed him that he had been robbed by such a gentleman.--"the magistrate told him that he was committing perjury, but the miscreant calling god to witness, that if what he had advanced was not true, he wished that his jaws might be locked and his flesh rot on his bones; and, shocking to relate, his jaws were instantly arrested, and after lingering nearly a fortnight in great anguish, he expired in horrible agonies, his flesh literally rotting on his bones." . a burial ground as a present for winning a law-suit may seem an odd acknowledgment, but this was what happened in royston { } during last century, when, in , the following obituary notice was published which explains itself-- "died in the workhouse in royston, thomas keightly, and on the following friday his remains were interred in the family burying ground in the churchyard of that parish. he was the eldest son of the late wm. keightley, esq., of that place, who some years ago, to his immortal honour, stood forward on behalf of the parish, and at his own expense supported a very litigious and expensive law-suit, which he gained and for which the said parish as an acknowledgment made him and his posterity a present of the aforesaid burying ground." what the law-suit was about i am unable to say. the following remarkable incident is taken from an old newspaper, the _cambridge intelligencer_-- . june th. on wednesday last a son and two daughters of the widow curtis, of wimpole, in this county, were returning from royston fair in a one-horse tilted cart. they were stopped in the street at royston by a concourse of people surrounding some recruiting sergeants who had been parading the streets with a flag and playing "god save the king." the young man, being in liquor, attempted to drive through the crowd. the horse reared up, being frightened by a musket let off close to him, the young man whipped the horse and struck some persons who obstructed the cart. this aroused the courage of the sons of mars, who thrust their swords through the tilt of the cart, which alarmed the young women who leaped from the cart, and, fainting away, were carried to a house at a trifling distance. the soldiers, not satisfied with the exploit, wreaked their anger upon the horse by stabbing it with a bayonet in such a manner that the poor animal died in a few minutes. during the tumult, one of the sergeants threatened a tradesman in the town, a person of unsuspected loyalty, that if he did not say "god save the king," he would run him through the body. to which he replied with the spirit of a briton--"you may stab me if you dare, but no man shall make me say 'god save the king' only when i please." . among the numerous parishes in cambridgeshire which, at the close of last century, adopted enclosure acts was the parish of harston, and in this case the preliminary formalities were attended with an extraordinary manifestation of feeling. the owners of the property in the parish gave notice of their intention of applying to parliament for an act to allot and divide the parish. a person of the name of brand was sent over on horseback from cambridge to post the requisite notice on the church door at harston. but a crowd of persons assembled to prevent this being carried out. the man was roughly handled, his horse kicked, and his coat torn, and he "found it necessary to get away as fast as he could." a warrant was issued for { } the leader named norden who assaulted brand, and a great crowd of persons assembled to prevent norden's apprehension. the officer of the law on the one side was protected by nine cavalry who were around, and on the other hand the rioters were armed with pitchforks and whatever they could lay their hands upon. the officer and his cavalry escort got hold of norden when in the field, but were followed on the road to cambridge by the rioters, who, however, were afraid of the fire of the soldiers, and no lives were lost. norden was committed to the quarter sessions, and on acknowledging his offence he got off with three months' imprisonment. . on the th of february, , there was a tremendous snowstorm which caused much suffering to travellers. coaches and wagons were buried in the snow and lives were lost. it was the same storm that overtook elizabeth woodcock on her way from cambridge market to impington, and buried her alive for eight days. the snow was drifted so high in the neighbourhood of baldock that fifty men were employed on the north road to dig out several wagons and carriages buried there. passengers by coach had a fearful time of it, and what it was like in the neighbourhood of royston may be gathered from the following testimony to the action of a roystonian-- "the humanity of mr. john phillips, common brewer of royston, during the late severe weather deserves the highest commendation, particularly on saturday last. being informed that the york and wisbech mail coaches were set fast in the snow two miles from royston, about five o'clock in the morning, he despatched several of his men and sixteen horses to their relief, and in the course of three hours conveyed the coaches safe to royston, to the great joy of the passengers, coachmen, and guards, some of whom would probably have perished had it not been for mr. phillips' humane assistance."--_cambridge chronicle_, february th, . . between this year and , for the particular year is uncertain, louis xviii. of france paid a visit to royston and descended into the old cave. louis, while in exile in england from to , a part of the time occupied gosfield hall, near braintree, essex, and it was while here, apparently, that he came over to royston to see the cave. on the th october, , was the jubilee of the reign of george iii. i am not aware of anything being done in royston, but if there was it was probably a half-hearted affair and contrasting greatly with the happy augury of the jubilee of the reign of queen victoria in . . in june, , daniel lambert, the famous fat man, was weighed at huntingdon and was found to weigh stone, lb.-- lb. to the stone. a few days afterwards he arrived from huntingdon at { } stamford where he was announced for exhibition, but he died about nine o'clock the following morning. . on january th, the deepest snow that had been known for years began--was some days falling--and continued on the ground for five weeks, and in places drifts were feet deep. the frost continued for weeks, till march th. on the th of the month of january the frost was of almost unexampled severity. a fair was held on the thames where a sheep was roasted. a card printed on the thames during that strange winter fair is now in the royston institute museum. houses were in many cases snowed up, and the difficulties of traffic were enormous. large gangs of labourers toiled at mountains of snow in order to open up the coaching routes. when the frost was deg. below freezing point, benjamin dunham, seventy years of age, was found frozen to death between barrington and harlton. the armed burglar was in evidence during the last and early years of the present century as a terror to householders, with this difference from the present system, that the offenders generally went in gangs. one notable event of this kind is connected with the residence of squire wortham (now mr. j. e. phillips) in melbourn street, royston. the party, approaching from the dog kennel lane in rear of the premises, disturbed the housekeeper, a mrs. cannon. she in her turn called out to old matt, the huntsman, but that worthy slept so soundly that she could not wake him; meanwhile the burglars seemed about to effect an entrance, when the redoubtable mrs. cannon secured a blunderbuss and, firing out of the window in the direction of the visitors, they made off. it was generally believed that the housekeeper shot one of the burglars, and years afterwards this was verified in a curious way by one of the party who, just before he died, made a confession to mr. stamford, then living at the old palace, to the effect that he was one of the party and that one of them was shot. . on december th, a woman years of age, "undertook for what the public of royston chose to give her, to walk miles in consecutive hours--that is, starting from the white lion in the high street and walking through the town, half-a-mile in and half-a-mile out. she began her journey at minutes after on friday afternoon (the weather unfavourable, the street excessively dirty and the boys rather troublesome) and completed her task at minutes after the next afternoon, having minutes to spare." . in , with the uneasiness caused by the appearance of the cholera morbus at sunderland and elsewhere, a great scare was occasioned in royston, and the sanitary state of the town at last got an overhauling, when the result showed what a terrible state of things had prevailed in the town during the first decades of the century. { } mr. e. k. fordham, the veteran banker and reformer, was the first to set the ball rolling, and a regular scheme of house to house visitation was resorted to. a committee was appointed, and the town was divided into four parts, each committee to report to the select vestry. the state of things disclosed by that report now seems almost inconceivable. the committee's work had a salutary effect, and this burst of zeal for the public health proceeded so far that a proposal was carried unanimously that a board of health be formed "for the more effectual removal of nuisances, and obtaining assistance from the central board should the cholera morbus unfortunately break out in this town." with the disappearance of all danger of the cholera morbus however the "board of health" fell through, but the effect of the enlightenment which it led to as to the condition of the town was not altogether lost. the cholera was then considered a new epidemic, and it broke out at sunderland and carried off many thousand lives in the year. hence the alarm spread to inland towns, the inhabitants of which, like royston, had their eyes opened to things little thought of before, and that great principle of cause and effect took root in regard to public health, which led up to the public health acts of the present day. it was on this visitation that kingsley in his "two years ago" gives such a graphic description of the terror caused by the appearance of the cholera, in the treatment of which he makes his hero tom thurnall take a notable part. whether cholera actually appeared in the district i am unable to say, but i find an item for royston, cambs, "cholera bills, &c., s. d." probably this was part of the expense of the steps above described. some years after the above date, when vaccination had got established, a valiant royston champion of the good old cause inoculated her family with small-pox. she was brought up at the bull before the magistrates, who, evidently reluctant to punish her, asked if she would promise not to do the like again, to which she adroitly made answer that she could promise them this, that if she did do it again she would not tell anyone. this was not quite a recantation, and so the old lady had to go to hertford gaol for seven days, and a crowd of people saw her off out of the town--one of the first victims of that law of compulsion of the individual for the public good which was to be a characteristic of the coming legislation. . in this year the royston institute was founded under the name of the royston mechanics institute. in the present building was erected partly on the site of the old turn-pike house, and it was opened in . . the lowering of burleigh's, or burloe's, hill, royston, by digging a cutting through, was begun about this time. the trustees of the baldock and bournbridge turnpike trust made a special contract by { } which the parish contracted to do the work for l , the parish taking any risk of loss and any chance of profit on the transaction, and the work to extend over two years. men who applied to the overseer were set upon it, and there was a strike against d. per yard, the price fixed for the labour by mr. wm. smith, the surveyor for one part of the work, and the vestry stood by the surveyor and decided that any men who refused to do it at that price should not be employed by the parish. the labourers refused to work at it, and "as the magistrates sanctioned the offer of work at this hill as an answer to applicants for relief, the labourers who would have been relieved for want of employment have found work from private employers instead of living on compulsory relief from the parish. labourers living out of the parish, and _threatening to come home_ unless out-allowance was paid them, having been answered that there was two years' work provided for them, have altered their intention of coming home and have subsisted on their own resources." and so the parochial pharaohs, as the paupers regarded them, by practical common sense and a strong grip of the handle, managed to make the rough places plain, and the sturdy vagabonds--for many of the old paupers of these times deserved the name--with their threats to "come home to their parish," were kept at a safe distance on the horizon by the ring of picks and mattocks! . in this year occurred the fire at hatfield house in which the marchioness of salisbury was burnt to death; an event which created a great sensation in all parts of the county, the marchioness having been quite a public character, and was, in fact, at one time mistress of the hertfordshire hounds, then called "_lady salisbury's_." one of the strangest incidents connected with the old highway traffic of sixty years ago, was the mishap which occurred to an old stage wagon with three horses abreast, a team of eight, at royston about or , on a saturday night, or rather sunday morning, in november. the incident was cleverly described by a versifier in the columns of the _herts. and cambs. reporter_ some years ago, but it is only necessary here to say that the wagon was travelling up to london, and reached melbourn all right. here, however, the sleepy teamster got his ponderous team too near a huge sign-post in the village, when the ornamental sign by tricks, amongst the ropes came firmly fixed. the sign-post was torn up and fixed immovably between the wheels and the wagon, and in that position was carried aloft, as "slowly the eight big lincoln steeds" continued their wonted course towards royston. before day-light that town was reached, the driver still unconscious of the curious appendage to his load. "rounding the { } corner at the cross" the strange projection crashed into the windows of the shops to the consternation of the inhabitants, as house after house was ripp'd and torn. * * * * plant-pots and plants alike were strown, and gilded names in swaths were mown. some thought it was an earthquake, and others that the end of all things had come. amongst the terrified shopkeepers, george rivers, the witty thespian, is credited with exclaiming:-- "the windows and the frames are gone, and all the house is tumbling down"! not till the wagon reached the warren did that and the old sign-post part company, and even then the sleepy driver wended his ponderous way towards buntingford in blissful ignorance of the devastation he had wrought upon the shop windows! "nor did he learn the strange affray till he returned another day." . the great snowstorm of was even more memorable than the two preceding storms of and , for its suddenness, its extent, and the greatly increased number of stage-coaches "on the road" at that time, which suffered from the interruption of traffic. it commenced to snow on the night of christmas eve (saturday) and snowed all day on sunday, and the next day. no snowstorm in great britain for the previous hundred years equalled it in violence and extent. on the evening of the th, after it had been snowing for hours, the wind increased to a hurricane, and in the night the fall of snow was from four to six feet, while the drifts were from to feet in depth, and the condition of all exposed to it was appalling! the storm spread all over europe, and in this island all communication was cut off for nearly a week. no coach got through from cambridge till the following thursday. many a christmas party that christmas were minus their guests, for coaches were "snowed up" all over the land, and, but for the timely shelter of inns and private houses, many of the passengers must have perished. there were three coaches almost within sight of each other placed _hors de combat_ in and near royston. one coach was actually stuck fast in the snow at the cross, in the centre of the town; another just below the present railway bridge, and another at the bottom of the kneesworth hill. these coaches were the edinburgh mail, the boston mail, and the stamford coach, and were all on their way to london at the time. the unfortunate passengers were obliged to spend the christmas holidays in royston as best they could, and the mails were sent forward on horseback as soon as practicable. for a whole week no mail coach went into, or came from, london through buntingford and royston. between royston and wadesmill, on the portion of the north road known as the { } wadesmill turnpike trust, the difficulties of opening up communication were of the most formidable character. near the gates at the entrance to coles park, westmill (now the residence of r. p. greg, esq.), there were drifts feet deep, and the labour of cutting through the snow between royston and wadesmill, was believed to have cost no less than l , and so great was the loss to the toll-keepers that the turnpike trust found it necessary to compensate mr. flay, the lessee, to the extent of l for the loss of toll through this unexampled interruption of traffic. it may be of interest just now to mention that the above remarkable storm was followed by a serious epidemic of influenza. . following the important undertaking of cutting through burloes hill on the newmarket road, came the great work of cutting through the hill on the london road, south of royston. the undertaking was begun in , the contract price for the work in this case being l , . this work proved more difficult in one sense than that of the newmarket road, from the fact that the coaching and other traffic was so much greater along this road and that the work had to be adapted to the continuation of this heavy traffic. the passage of coaches over the temporary roadway was not of the smoothest, and it is said that one passenger became so alarmed that he jumped from the coach, being afraid it would upset, and in doing so broke his leg. the turnpike trust, being responsible for the state of the road, though not for the passenger's want of courage, made him a compensation of l for the injury. in the coronation of her majesty, queen victoria, was worthily celebrated in royston. there were free dinners for the townspeople on the market hill, with bands of music, and the principal residents dined together at the bull hotel afterwards--much the same as in the celebration of the jubilee of her majesty's reign fifty years afterwards in . . in this year the royal agricultural society held their second annual show on parker's piece, cambridge, and, as an illustration of how such exhibitions have advanced since then, it may be mentioned that at the show of the "royal" at oxford in the previous year there were only fifty exhibits of live stock and twenty-three of implements, and the exhibition at cambridge brought not very many more. . during the winter months of this year a mail-coach driver was killed near the turnpike, mill road, royston, by the coach being overthrown owing to the snow. in the same year the rev. j. snelgar, vicar of royston, hung himself in his own rooms at the residence (now mr. walter --ale's) [transcriber's note: several characters missing from walter's surname] near the sun inn, at the top of back street. { } [illustration: triumphal arch at buntingford.] . her majesty the queen and prince consort visited wimpole and cambridge this year, passing through royston on their way to cambridge. triumphal arches and other signs of welcome were erected in most of the towns and villages on the road from london to cambridge. of these outward manifestations of loyalty, the illustrations here given appeared at the time in the _illustrated london news_, which, now claiming to be the father of illustrated journals, was then in its infancy and only about one year old. three triumphal arches were erected in royston; one at the entrance into royston opposite the residence of mr. hale wortham, one at the cross, and another at the institute, with no end of bunting down the streets. goods were removed from shop windows and spectators took their places. there was an enormous concourse of people to see the young queen and her royal consort. it had been arranged to run up a flag upon a flag-staff on the top of the london cutting as soon as the royal carriage was seen coming down reed hill, as a signal for the bells to commence ringing. this was in charge of mr. hale wortham, in whose absence for a few minutes some mischievous boys ran up the flag signal, which set the church bells ringing, and placed the whole concourse of people on the tiptoe of expectation and excitement long before the queen's arrival, with a corresponding tax upon their patience. a tremendous gale was blowing, which played havoc with the linen and devices on the arches and tore down the flag-staff and pinnacle to which it was attached on the tower of the parish church. when the carriage came, however, { } it was at a very great speed. by the arrangement of the earl of hardwicke a regular military escort was dispensed with as soon as the county of cambridge was reached. in melbourn street a large body of horsemen, including many gentlemen of royston, was assembled, which was in fact lined by them, for the purpose of falling in by threes as the royal carriage passed. during a pause the earl of hardwicke went up to the carriage and spoke to the queen and the prince consort. the royal carriage was escorted by soldiers and members of the herts. yeomanry as far as the borders of herts. at royston, where members of the cambs. yeomanry were to take their places. the carriage travelled at such great speed that though the herts. yeomanry, mostly farmers and others used to hunting and well mounted, easily kept their places, yet the cambs. men, including fen men more heavily mounted, soon found themselves actually dropping off, and many of them were left hopelessly behind when the journey was renewed en route for trinity college, cambridge. those left behind were able to come up at melbourn where there was a change of horses. [illustration: triumphal arch at royston.] at melbourn the scene was a memorable one as the mounted horsemen and a vast crowd of people from the whole neighbourhood gathered around the old historic elm tree, where the change of horses took place. such a crush of mounted horsemen had never been seen in the village. upon the gigantic branch of the old elm tree, which then extended right across the road, some loyal melbournites, short of bright coloured flags usually employed on such occasions, had spread a huge tarpauling upon which was a loyal motto of welcome. this curious piece { } of bunting naturally attracted some attention, and some of the yeomanry escort attending her majesty and the prince, were heard to remark that it was "a very coarse piece of loyalty," but evidently the young queen and her royal consort, accepted it at its intended worth, and what was wanting in elegance, was made up by sincerity and the enthusiasm of the people. it is fair to add that melbourn had its triumphal arch as appears by the contemporary illustrations in the journal from which those at royston and buntingford have been obtained. [illustration: wimpole mansion.] the following reference to this event occurs in a book entitled "recollections of military life and society," by lieut.-col. b. d. w. ramsay:--"in the autumn of we were despatched on escort duty with her majesty and prince albert, between hertford, cambridge, royston, and wimpole, lord hardwicke's place. on arrival at wimpole, where i commanded the escort, i received a despatch from the horse guards directing me to give up the escorting of her majesty from royston to wimpole to whatever yeomanry might present themselves. this i received one afternoon, and on the following day her majesty was to arrive, and no yeomanry had made their appearance. i therefore determined to ride out to wimpole and see lord hardwicke. * * * on arriving there i saw lord hardwicke standing in front of the house with his agent, an old naval officer and shipmate. lord hardwicke frantically waved me off saying, 'i do not want to see you. why do you come to torment me before my time? to-morrow you must all come.' this he said in a melancholy voice. upon which i deemed it advisable to introduce myself as he had evidently forgotten me. the dowager lady hardwicke was my grand aunt. * * * when i made myself known nothing could exceed his kindness. 'god bless you { } my boy,' he said, 'come and stay as long as you can, and drink all my champagne; but don't bother me about military matters. you know i am a blue-coat, and don't care about them.' i said, however, 'i must know if any yeomanry are coming, in order to make the necessary arrangements.' 'of course they'll come; don't bother me,' was all i could get out of him. and then he snatched a book out of his agent's hands, and said 'look here; here are my accounts balanced for the year--not a penny to spare; and here are all you fellows coming. however, you are all welcome. enjoy yourselves; but for goodness sake don't bother me.' so i decamped. i returned to royston late in the evening but still no yeomanry." the yeomanry arrived about ten o'clock at night, however, and the writer gives an amusing account of the dispute over changing escorts, the yeomanry officer insisting that the change should be made at the inn where the change of horses was made, and the writer states that he with all the dignity of a cornet of twenty years of age, said he would do no such thing, but that the change should be made on the confines of the county some distance outside the town. the yeomanry officer remonstrated saying that the queen's carriage would then be travelling at a great rate and it would be difficult to change escorts as his men had never practised it. the young cornet said that that was his affair, and insisting upon the letter of his instructions, the change of escort was made at the county boundary, the leaders of the queen's carriage were thrown down in the process, and the only consolation that could be offered to prince albert's inquiry for the cause was the instruction from the horse guards, and that the spot was the confines of the county of cambridge, and the struggling mass of horsemen his royal highness saw were the yeomanry who had presented themselves! the writer adds "my orders being explicit there could be no answer to this. but query, ought i to have been so particular as to the letter of the law? certainly the lord lieutenant of the county, lord hardwicke, thought _not_, as he slapped me on the back and called me an impudent young----(something)." { } chapter xvii. then and now.--conclusion. from our present stand-point there is just a touch of pathos in the thought of many aspiring englishmen of the georgian era passing away on the eve of momentous changes, privileged only to see indications of the coming times and not to enter into possession. but there is one element which qualifies this sentiment of regret in breaking with the anticipations of the good time coming. it must be so for all conditions of men. have we not still to look forward, as we pass out of the age of steam into the more subtle and wonderful age of electricity, to a time when there may be greater wonders yet in store! and so to every man who reaps a harvest from other men's labours comes the old lesson of the responsibility for continuing the seed-sowing. of those whose lives have spread over the last eighty years it has been well said that "to be borne in one world, to die in another, is, in the case of very old people, scarcely a figure of speech," so marvellous is the difference between the surroundings of their cradle and their grave. standing by the janus at the portals of the two centuries, what a contrast was presented in the backward and forward views! backward we have seen, in these glimpses of the past, men struggling with difficulties and passing away with the seed-sowing; forward, we see other men enter the promised land and reaping the harvest, for which others had toiled; backward we have seen in our villages, men passing toilsome lives in the circumscribed daily round of their native parish, from which it was almost impossible to break away, or within the few miles of that little world which seemed to end where the earth and sky appeared to meet, and beyond which was a _terra incognita_; forward we see the children from the same villages playing in merry groups on the sands of that wonderful sea-shore of which their fathers had only heard in song and story; and so through the many phases of the daily life of the people. with much that is admittedly still lacking in the village life and its hold upon the people, the condition of the youth of an agricultural district presents as great a contrast to-day with that of the youth of eighty years ago, as any other condition of life can show. then, he trudged from the farm house to his daily round of toil, in his stiff leather breeches, from the field back to the stable, from the stable to the kitchen fire-place, then to bed, and up again to the stable and the field--week in, week out, with, in many cases, not a penny to spend from year's end to year's end; hearing no music and seeing no { } brightness excepting the fiddle and the dulcimer, and the dance and the shows at the neighbouring "statty" (statute fair) at michaelmas once a year. his master had absolute control of his life and actions, and sometimes would enforce it with the whip-stock. but now the farm lad has the hardihood and the right to summon his employer before a magistrate, goes to "lunnon" at holiday time, walks with a stick, wears a buttonhole in his _coat_, and, _mirabile dictu_! has been seen to ride home from his work on a "bone-shaker"! in place of the old bent figures in smock-frocks, there are spruce young fellows in black coats; in place of the old indoor farm service, its hearty living, but liberty to thrash a boy, there is freedom of contract, and, i daresay, sometimes an empty stomach; instead of an absolute indifference to the moral character of the labourer, the farmer is waking up to the fact that a steady sober man is worth more than the frequenter of the ale-house. but there is a _per contra_ in all this. bad as the times were at the beginning of the century, when the flint, steel, and tinder box, was the only means of striking a light, there were not seen so many boys in the street contracting a bad habit of smoking as may be seen to-day. there was of necessity much less smoking than now, for the habitual smoker was obliged to light up before leaving home, or go into a house, or trust to meeting a fellow smoker with a pipe alight on the road. but we have gained something in outward decency in the decrease of the filthy habit of chewing tobacco, and in the now still greater rarity of the habitual snuff-taker. perhaps the most remarkable, and certainly the most humiliating item, in the _per contra_ account set off against extraordinary advancements all round in the outward conditions of the life of the villager, is to be found in the fact that the cottage home--the fountain head of character--has in the great majority of cases absolutely stood still. the old cottage homes of england with all their poetic associations, have, in too many cases, not only not improved, but, with their low mud, or brick floors, cold-beds, rather than hot-beds, of rheumatism, have remained just as when they were occupied by the great-grandfathers of the present generation, excepting that they have grown older and more dilapidated. the evil of huddling families into such hovels is aggravated by the altered condition of life for the labourers' boys, who can no longer, as of yore, find a home in the more roomy farm-house. it may be a hard thing to say perhaps, but the evidence seems irresistible that though there may be notable instances to the contrary, in too many cases where the old clay-bat and thatched habitations have escaped the devouring element of fire, the housing of the labouring man's family is much worse than it was sixty years ago. is it surprising that a spirited youth or girl, with all the stimulus of immensely improved conditions of life around them, should be drawn away from the old moorings? { } perhaps in no respect have the changes of time been greater than in the political world, and yet there is a little of the _per contra_ even here. not only are political opinions freely uttered now for which a man would have found himself in newgate a hundred years ago, but bills of all kinds are introduced into parliament with perfect safety to the person of the member proposing them, such as our forefathers would never have dreamed of advocating, even though they were sometimes called bad names for their advanced political views. in the old days the rural voter got a jollification, a drinking bout, and some hard cash for his vote; now he can almost obtain an act of parliament. still, it is better than bribery, i suppose. in writing this i do not in any sense hold a brief for the past as against the present, but in contrasting these different phases of life one is bound to acknowledge that we have lost a few things which would have been well worth preserving. we have gained untold social advantages, but we have in too many cases lost the priceless treasure of individual contentment; we have gained a great many things that have been labelled with the sacred name of freedom, but only too often to bow down to false notions of respectability; we have been emancipated as communities from the brutal display of sport and pastimes which have been referred to in the earlier part of these pages, but in too many cases only to substitute a more subtle form of gambling about names of things printed in the newspapers, without any such excuse for the interest taken as our forefathers had in the excitement which was actually before their eyes; we have gained untold advantage in the spread of knowledge, and the means of access to a wealth of intellectual treasures such as our forefathers never dreamed of, but have too often allowed our reading tastes to degenerate into nothing more solid than the newspaper and a few literary _bon-bons_. there has been both a levelling up and a levelling down in the matter of education, for it is doubtful whether tradesmen and others called middle-class people are so well educated--i mean so thoroughly educated, for they know more things but fewer things well--as men were a generation ago, if we consider education on the abstract and intellectual side. we are perhaps a little too apt to think that there is nothing for us of to-day, but to bless our stars that we were born in the th century; yet if we who carry "the torch of experience lighted at the ashes of past delusions" have escaped from the mists and the shadows along the way which our grandfathers toiled, the responsibility for bettering their work is all the greater. we may not be able to close this wonderful th century with any practical realization of all the dreams of ideal citizenship which made up the last expiring breath of the th century. but we have { } gone a long way in that direction, and happily it has been along a roadway, toilsome and rough at times, upon which there is no need for going back to retrace our steps. standing now, on the higher ground to which the exertions of our fathers, and the forces which their work set in motion for our benefit, have brought us, we see down into the valley, along the rugged way we have come, abundant reason why men often misunderstood each other--they could not see each other in any true and just light. but just as the heavy material roadway along which the old locomotion was shifting a hundred years ago, from horses' backs on to wheels, has become firmer, broader, lighter, and freer by the cutting down of hedge rows and hindrances which shut out the sweetening influence of light and air; so along the highways of men's thoughts and actions there has been an analogous process of cutting down boundaries and removing hindrances which divided men in the past, until we see one another face to face. it may be that some few distinctions will be preserved after all the modern political programmes have been played out, but let us hope that the hedges which divide men will be kept well trimmed and low. for, after all, it is impossible to gather up these old voices of a past time, or to look back over such a period as that which has been passed in review by these sketches without recognizing that if men will only stand upright, whatever their station, and not stoop to narrow the horizon of their view, they must see how broad, and how fertile in all human, homely and kindly attraction, are the common heritage, the common work, the common rest and the common hopes of men, compared with the narrow paths within high party walls--whether of religious creeds, social grades, or false notions of what is respectable--within which men have too often in the past sought to hide themselves from one another. the hard lot of the village labourer to-day is not what it was, is not what it will be; the discomforts for all classes remaining from those of seventy years ago look now very small, and may yet look smaller; and history, even the local history of a country town and its neighbouring villages, though it moves slowly, shows foot-prints for the most part tending one way and justifying the old hopeful belief that-- life shall on and upward go, th' eternal step of progress beats, to that great anthem, calm and slow, which god repeats. the end. { } appendix. in the following table is given the population of parishes in the royston district, viz., of the royston and buntingford poor-law unions, situated in the counties of herts., cambs., and essex, for each decade from to . in them the reader will be able to trace the growth of the rural population during the middle of the century, and its remarkable decline during the last twenty years, the economic effects of which have led to the cry for bringing back the labourer on to the land, instead of his drifting away to aggravate the social problem in london and other populous centres. royston sub-district. ashwell barkway barley chishill, great chishill, little heydon hinxworth kelshall morden, guilden morden, steeple nuthampstead reed royston, herts. royston, cambs. * * therfield * in the census of and royston, cambs., was taken with royston, herts. melbourn sub-district. abington pigotts barrington *bassingbourn fowlmere foxton kneesworth litlington *melbourn meldreth shepreth .. shingay thriplow wendy whaddon * parts of these parishes are in the township of royston. { } buntingford union. austey * ardeley aspeden broadfield ** buckland cottered hormead, great hormead, little layston meesden * rushden sandon throcking ** wakeley *** wallington westmill wyddial * in the census of , anstey and meesden were taken together, and had a population of , or less than the two parishes together in . ** throcking and broadfield were also taken together, giving a population of , or less than in . *** wakeley has ceased to be a separate parish. [transcriber's note: there were no entries in the column.] the population of the town of royston can only be arrived at by adding together the number of the parts of surrounding parishes making up the township of royston. at the last two censuses these parts have been enumerated separately, but not in the earlier decades, with the exception of and , particulars of which are given below. . houses. houses empty. persons. royston, herts. " cambs. bassingbourn kneesworth therfield --- -- ---- totals there were no inhabitants in melbourn parish, royston, at the above census of ninety years ago, and it will be seen that all the inhabitants within were in royston parish proper. .--the census of this period showed very little difference from the figures for , and of that of , i have only the particulars for the two parishes of royston, herts., and cambs., which gave , persons against , for these two parishes in . { } the most interesting and complete census of the town was that of the year houses houses . houses. empty. building. persons. royston, herts. " cambs. bassingbourn kneesworth therfield melbourn --- - - ---- totals the following are the census returns for the township of royston for and . . . increase. decrease. royston, herts. -- " cambs. -- bassingbourn part -- the workhouse -- kneesworth part -- melbourn part -- therfield part -- ---- ---- --- -- totals -- the interest of the foregoing figures lies in the fact that there was during the first thirty years of the century a great increase in the hertfordshire part of the town, and scarcely any increase in the cambridgeshire part, whereas the tendency has now been reversed in so remarkable a manner that against only persons in kneesworth parish, royston, in , there are now . { } index. allotments, andrews, hy., astronomer, , anstey fair, rural sports at, arrington, coaching at, arrington-hill, "bacca" and snuff for paupers, banks stopping payment, barkway, day school at, --milestones near, , --terrible fire at, , --volunteers of, --whipping post at, --workhouse at, barley, "fox and hounds" at, bassingbourn, , --incendiary fires at, --strange narrative of horse-stealing at, --volunteers of, beacon fires, , beadle, dignity and duties of, , --the, and bastardy laws, --emoluments of, beldam, joseph, senr., --valentine, biggleswade, dreadful fire at, bishop stortford, volunteers of, blucher at cambridge, body-snatching, horrors of, bowling greens, , bow street runner, buntingford, bridewell at, --mails from, --pauper weddings at, --queen & prince albert at, --roads, burying at four cross-roads, butler, henry, woolstapler, --john, --w. warren, and his rhymes, - butcher, the, and the baronet, cambridge "chronicle," --coach, --undergraduates and village rows, , cambridgeshire members of parliament, cannon, mrs., old matt and the burglars, capital punishment, painful case of, --sentence of death for theft at melbourn, carter, valentine, stage-coach driver, caxton, --coaching to, --gibbet, --mail robbery, --turnpike, the, , cave estate, royston, , census, manner of taking, --returns of, in appendix, , , charles i. at royston, chartism at royston, chimney sweeps' climbing boys, chipping, cholera-morbus, the, alarm in royston years ago, , coaching accidents, , coaches, begging from, --london to edinburgh, --palmy days and speed of, coals brought from cambridge to royston, cock-fighting, cooper thornhill's ride, cottage homes of england, dilapidation of, crabb robinson's diary, cricket in the th century, cross, thos, stage-coach driver, --autobiography of, - cruikshank, dacre, lord, --lord and lady, daintry, mrs. and thomas, day schools, death sentences years ago, dogberry, marrying the paupers, , , --reporting nuisances, , dogs and pedlars' carts, education in villages, electioneering in herts., farmers and the labourers, --and famine prices, fire brigade of last century, fly wagons, --journey to london, by, flower, benjamin, food, prices of, fordham, e. k., --edward snow, --henry, , , --john george, , , forgery, death sentences for, fowlmere, riot at, foxton, volunteers at, free trade, first meetings in royston, french prisoners, gallows, the, gamlingay, overseers and paupers at, gas, first prices of, gatward, james, and the gibbet, , george iii., his reign, --fashions in times of, --hooted and mobbed, --jubilee of, george iv., and his queen--kingites and queenites, gransden, pauper tyranny at, guilden morden, incendiary fires at, hall, robert, at royston, hardwicke, the earl of, and the queen's visit, , , --and royston races, --lady, , harston, enclosure riot at, , hatfield, royal review at, hauxton, sheep stealing at, hertford, pillory at, heydon grange, prize-fighting near, highwaymen, highways, condition of, , highway robbery, hinxton, burning pain's effigy at, hinxworth, labourers' earnings, hitchin, awful visitation at, hue and cry, influenza, following great frost in , inoculation, jacobin, , jacklin, james, james i. at royston, "john ward, beadle," kellarman, alchemist of lilley, kneesworth and caxton toll proceeds of, lambert, daniel, the fat man, letters, postage of, louis xviii., at royston, mcadam and the north road, mail coach driver killed, market ordinary, the, melbourn, the queen and prince albert at, meldreth and its stocks, memorable year of scarcity, mordens, the, napoleon buonaparte, --shadow of, --threatened invasion by, nash, william, , newspapers, how obtained, noon's folly, and its prize-fights, , nuthamstead "sparrow hill," odsey races, the, old matt, the huntsman, old music and musicians, , old poor-law, the, open corn markets, packhorses, , parish clerks, --constable, and his accounts, --herdsman, the, --leaving without certificate, --workhouse, how managed, parliamentary reform, , --rejoicings at royston, parochial assessment, --parliament, the, pattens and clogs, paupers, , , , , peachey, the hon. mrs., pedestrian feat by a woman, phillips, john, pickering, miss, pillion, the use of, police, the new, , , poor-law reform, --making up wages, --memorable scene on royston heath, , --objection to central workhouse, poor-law pauper tyranny, --riots and stack firing, , poor-rate of s. in the l at royston, posting and posthorses, press gang, and terrors of, , prize-fighting, , --melbourn champion, , --brighton bill, --ward and crawley fighting for the championship on royston heath, public worship, puckeridge statute fair, queen victoria's coronation, rejoicings at royston, --jubilee, --and prince albert at royston, , radical royston, railway, first use of, , revolution, the french, , , richardson, james, royal show, cambridge, , royston, badger-baiting at, --book club and debates at, , , --burloes hill cut through, , --cave opened, , --coaching at, - , --early temperance work, -- th century bye-laws in, --fair tippling at, --king james' stables at, --market, , --old royston club and its members at, , --pillory at, --races, --red lion, social gatherings, --stocks at, --volunteers of, --whipping post at, rushden, a. meetkerke of, salisbury, marchioness, burnt to death, semaphore on royston heath, sheep stealing, death sentences for, shelford fires, death sentence for, shepreth, skilful woman of, shield, capt., the rev. thomas, , small-pox, a recommendation, snelgar, rev. j., snowstorms, memorable, , , soame, sir peter, , , stocks, a lord chief justice in, "tally-ho" and "safety" coaches, , taxes on marriages, &c., therfield, searching for mail, threshing machines, breaking of, thurnall, henry, and the highwayman, --commended by poor-law commissioners, thurnall, h. j., picture by, thurtle and hunt, trial of, tinder box, the, , tithes collected in kind, turpin, dick, traditions of, , velocipede, the, volunteers, associations of, wadesmill turnpike, wagon and sign post, the, , walton, joe, coachdriver, , warren, j., , window tax, witches, wheat, s. a bushel, "wheatbarn tasker," the, woodcock, elizabeth, buried alive in the snow, wortham, lady, wortham, squire, wrestling matches, holidays and happy days h. hendry and e. f. mason the larger dumpy books for children ii. holidays and happy days holidays & happy-days by hamish hendry with illustrations by e. florence mason london grant richards contents. . new year's day . twelfth day . st. valentine's day . pancake tuesday . st. david's day . st. patrick's day . all fools' day . palm sunday . maundy thursday . good friday . easter sunday . st. george's day . may day . royal oak day . midsummer's eve . st. swithin's day . michaelmas day . all hallow's eve . guy fawkes' day . lord mayor's day . st. andrew's day . christmas eve . christmas day . boxing day london engraved & printed at the _racquet court press_ _by_ _edmund evans_. new year's day. little children are usually snug in bed when the first holiday of the year arrives. it comes at midnight when all is dark out of doors. sometimes the weather is very cold, here in england, with snow upon the ground; and as it nears midnight on the st december there is a great silence beneath the stars. the children are in bed; but in most homes there are grown-up people--fathers, mothers, uncles or aunts--who sit late and watch the clock. they watch; and when the clock strikes twelve they know that the first day of the new year has arrived. then it is no longer silent out of doors. the bells are ringing loudly, and ringing merrily; they are ringing a welcome to the stranger. so the grown-up people, who have been watching the clock, rise up smiling and wish each other a happy new year. the father says to the mother: "i wish you a happy new year, my dear," and in saying this they shake hands, and kiss each other. then the mother, if she has children in bed, goes upstairs. they are all asleep; so she does not waken them. she simply kisses them, each one, and smiles as she whispers: "a happy new year to all of you, my dears." that is how the new year arrives in england. in scotland there is more ceremony. there it used to be the custom for the whole household to sit up till twelve o'clock and bring in the new year with singing and frolic. but that custom is dying out. you children, i hope, get to know about the new year in the morning. you find that everybody is looking happy, and wishing happiness to other people. even although the sun is not shining there is brightness in the house and in the street. people when they meet shake hands and joke and laugh. your aunt will give you a good hug, and more than likely your uncle will put his hand into his pocket and give you something; something round and bright; something that will make you smile. then you learn that the new year brings gifts as well as gladness. but nowadays the giving of presents is not so common as it used to be. far back in english history the grown-up people gave each other gifts on new year's day, and some of these gifts were very beautiful and very costly. diamond necklaces, gold caskets, jewelled swords, embroidered mantles--these were the kind of gifts which rich people gave to each other at the feast of the new year. our english kings and queens, in the old days, received many such precious gifts. queen elizabeth got so many valuable presents in this way that a list of them was kept upon parchment, and in the history books it may still be read. this custom of giving rich presents to rich people on new year's day exists no longer in england; and that is well. for in many cases these costly gifts were given not from kindness but from selfishness; the gift-givers wanted some favour in return. now, it is an ill thing to begin a new year with a spirit of greediness. none of you children, i am sure, will do so. be thankful that you have got the gift of another new year's day. it is the first clean page of a fine new book in which you can write just what you please. write something cheerful; and see to it that there are no blots. twelfth day. the sixth day in each year is called twelfth day. that is a little odd is it not? well, the reason is this: in very ancient times there was a great christian festival which began upon christmas day and lasted for twelve days. it was called the feast of the nativity, because it was held in honour of the coming of christ to earth, and both the first day of the feast and the last day were held very sacred. on the last, or twelfth day, special honour was given to the three kings who are spoken of in the new testament as the three wise men who came from the east to jerusalem, led by a star. the star guided these three kings to bethlehem where they saw the young child jesus and offered gifts to him of gold, frankincense and myrrh. at first this feast, which we call epiphany, was of a very solemn nature, but in the middle ages it lost a great deal of its sacred character. the festival of the three kings became noisy and frolicsome, and sometimes it was arranged in the form of a little play. in this play three friars or monks were dressed up like kings, with crowns upon their heads, and a golden star was carried before them. within the church, near the altar, a manger would be arranged with an ox and an ass, in imitation of the manger at bethlehem. here, also, was the child christ and his mother. to them would enter the three kings, accompanied by a merry crowd, and gifts were offered to the babe--gold, frankincense and myrrh. it was a pretty sight, perhaps, but not at all devout. in later times still, twelfth day was almost wholly given up to frolic and feasting. special plays were written to amuse the people, and it is probably for that reason we have shakspere's play called "twelfth night." the chief custom of this merry day was the election of a king of the bean; sometimes there was also a queen. no doubt this making of a king had its connection with the honour done to the three kings in the early festival; it may also be connected with an old roman custom. here is how the king was elected on twelfth day. a large cake, called twelfth cake, was baked for the day, and inside the cake a bean was placed. when all the company were gathered to the feast the cake was cut up, and the fortunate person who got the piece of cake with the bean in it was made king of the bean, and had charge of the revels. sometimes the names of the company were put in a bowl, and each one received a piece of the cake as his or her name was drawn by lot. there was much fun and laughter, you may be sure, as the names were being drawn, the cake cut up, and the bean discovered. it is the kind of fun which you children would have enjoyed. for the twelfth cake, in the old days, was usually very large, baked into very queer shapes, and always very nice to eat. nowadays, the cakes upon twelfth day have become much smaller, and in some households this merry day is forgotten altogether. you will agree with me, children, that this is a mistake. it is a mistake to forget the good old customs; and it is doubly a mistake when the custom is made cheerful with laughter and cake. st. valentine's day. not very much is known about st. valentine. indeed, there were several saints of that name who were set down in the calendar for loving remembrance on the fourteenth day of february. one of them was a martyr, and died for the christian faith at rome. but these saints have no connection with the ceremonies of st. valentine's day except that the priests of the early christian church set that particular day apart for a special feast. this feast was meant to take the place of certain ceremonies practised by the common people of the old world in their worship of the roman gods. but the people did not easily forget their old customs, and some of these were, until recent times, practised on st. valentine's day in a new form. one of these customs was for young men and maidens to cast lots in the choice of partners. upon the eve of st. valentine's day, in england, it was usual for young people to meet together, each one writing his or her name upon a piece of paper. when this was done the papers were rolled up tightly and put into two bowls. then each young man drew the name of a girl and she was his _valentine_, and each girl drew the name of a young man and he was her _valentine_. it was little more than a merry mode of choosing partners for the festival of st. valentine; but sometimes the young folks took this choice by lot quite seriously, and the partnership ended in marriage. with the english poets st. valentine's day has always been a favourite. you will find it mentioned by chaucer, shakspere, and many another of lesser note. at one time it was not uncommon for a young man to send a set of verses to his _valentine_ on the morning of the th of february. most of these were very poor verses, but sometimes a true poet sent a greeting to his valentine. as when drayton sent these happy lines: muse, bid the morn awake, sad winter now declines, each bird doth choose a mate; this day's st. valentines for that good bishop's sake get up and let us see what beauty it shall be that fortune us assigns. nowadays st. valentine's day has lost nearly all its popularity; certainly, it has lost all its merry charm. the time is not so distant--your fathers and mothers may remember it--when the postman's bag was laden with valentines upon st. valentine's day. some of them were in large embossed envelopes and the valentines themselves were glittering things. there was nearly always a little gilt cupid with his bow and arrows, and the mottoes and verses were always very very sentimental. some of the valentines, also, were strange and ugly as they came from the postman's bag. these were what is called "mock" valentines, and the people who received them were sometimes very angry. now the sending of valentines has fallen into disfavour, especially the pretty ones. as for the others, the ugly mock valentines, they are very ill-natured and foolish. have nothing to do with them; they are not worthy of happy st. valentine's day. pancake tuesday pancake tuesday is quite a nice name is it not? but it is not the only name for this holiday. it is also called shrove tuesday, shrovetide, fasting-tide, and fasten-e'en or fastern's-e'en. i shall try to explain to you why it has all these names. there is, as you must know, a great festival of the christian church called easter. it is the festival of the resurrection of christ, and to prepare for this solemn festival the ancient church set apart a period of fasting which we call lent. this fasting-time begins upon ash wednesday, and on the morning of the previous day, in the old times, people went to the priests to confess their sins and get shriven. hence it was called shrove or shriven tuesday; hence, also, it was called fasten-e'en, because it was upon the eve of the great fast. after attending church in the morning the people were permitted to enjoy themselves to their heart's desire all the rest of shrove tuesday, and before the rigorous fasting-time of lent began. during the middle ages, indeed, this merry-tide lasted for several days, and some idea of the jollity of shrovetide can be gathered from the way in which the carnival is held upon the continent, even now. in england, during the old times before the reformation, there were great feasts during shrovetide, and all the old english games and pastimes went right merrily. some of these pastimes were very rough and cruel--such as cock-fighting and bull-baiting--and would not be permitted to-day. but there were also such games as football and hand-ball; and in certain towns in scotland the game of hand-ball is still played, sometimes very roughly, upon fastern's-e'en. of all the jollity and junketting of that festive time very little remains to us; almost nothing except the practice of baking and eating pancakes upon shrove tuesday. but nowadays the ceremonies connected with pancake tuesday are not so important and picturesque as they used to be. in the old days--the days when shakspere lived--a bell was rung in the morning called the pancake bell. at the sound of the bell the preparation of the pancakes began. wheaten flour mixed with water, spices, eggs and other nice things were dropped into the frying-pan as it sizzled over the fire. then followed the tossing of the pancakes. this was a time of great fun, because it required a good deal of skill to toss the pancakes and catch them in the pan. in giving them a quick twirl round the pancakes sometimes dropped into the fire. but that did not greatly matter, because there were always plenty of pancakes for everybody; and also plenty of fun in the eating of them. there was only one person in the company who did not enjoy the fun. for the first pancake tossed in the pan was given to that member of the party who was considered the most lazy. it was seldom eaten, you may be sure, as the lazy one found it the best plan to run away and hide. but it was a merry day, especially for young people at school and college. at westminster school, for instance, the cook used to bring his frying-pan with a pancake in it right into the schoolroom and toss it among the boys. in the scramble that followed the boy who captured the pancake unbroken and carried it to the dean received a guinea for his cleverness. that was a jolly game and it is only one of many that used to be popular on pancake tuesday. 'tis a pity that much of this merry-making has disappeared. st. david's day. there is a little corner of wales which is very dear to all true welsh folk. it is very close to the sea, near st. david's head, and its interest gathers round an ancient cathedral of red stone and the holy man who is buried in this cathedral. this old building, with others, stands beside a little stream called the alan, and here also is the city of st. david's, now a small village. it is all very lonely nowadays, this peaceful shrine near the restless sea, but in the middle ages it was a busy place. there were the comings and goings of great kings and queens with their followers, and many pilgrims of lesser name visited this shrine to do homage to the memory of the welsh saint. there are still many people who visit st. david's, the ancient menevia, and the cathedral founded by the patron saint of wales. a great number of legends--stories of marvel and miracle--have been told about st. david. an angel is said to have been his constant attendant in his youth, and to have ministered to all his wants. in later years he began to preach, making long journeys through wales and england, and visiting jerusalem. when he preached to the people, so the old legends tell us, a snow-white dove sat upon the shoulder of the saint. the power to work miracles also was ascribed to st. david; he is said to have healed all diseases, and even raised up the dead. many other strange and marvellous things are set down in the old chronicles as having been accomplished by the saint. it is impossible to believe all these tales, and what we actually know to be true regarding st. david can be told in a few words. what is certain is that he was a great preacher and organiser in the early church, and his powers were so much approved that he was made archbishop of wales, taking up his residence at st. david's. we have also been told by the old chroniclers that he was a very good man, and this we can well believe. one of his biographers says of him that he was a guide to the religious, a life to the poor, a support to orphans, a protection to widows, a father to the fatherless. he is said to have died in a.d. . having been such a noble and good man the welsh people have chosen to make st. david their patron saint. on the first day of march, in every year, they hold in remembrance the old preacher and teacher who lived so long ago beside the little stream in menevia. they also keep in remembrance, by so doing, all that is good and noble in the history of the welsh race. that is surely a right thing to do. for although wales is now a part of great britain it has a history of its own, a language of its own, and a literature of its own. it is well that these things should be held in remembrance, both by the welsh folk at home and those who have travelled into far lands, and they set apart st. david's day as a special day for doing honour to all that is best in the ancient history of their country. it is a happy custom, alike for old and young. st. patrick's day. the national emblem of ireland is a plant, the leaf of which has three small leaflets. this is called the shamrock. it is beloved by irish folks at all times, but most of them wear it conspicuously upon the th day of march. st. patrick is the patron saint of ireland, and that is st. patrick's day. there are very good reasons why the saint should be honoured by irishmen, yet it is a curious fact that he was not born in ireland. indeed, there is some doubt regarding both the time and place of his birth. some people think that the saint was born in france, while others hold that his birthplace was at kilpatrick, near dunbarton, in scotland. but this we know for certain that st. patrick, when he was a lad of sixteen years of age, was captured by pirates on his father's farm and carried by them to ireland, where he was sold into slavery. the irish chief who bought the lad lived in county antrim, near sleamish mountain, and he employed patrick in herding swine. all the people who lived in that part of ireland at this time--about the end of the th century--were heathen. now, young patrick had been trained by his father and grandfather in the christian religion, and it made him very unhappy to think that his master, and the people of ireland, were ignorant of the true faith; he was also unhappy when he thought of his home and his friends. but after six years he escaped from slavery, and sailed away from ireland. he went to another country, either scotland or france, and there became a priest and a preacher of the christian religion. patrick was very successful, and after many years he was made a bishop. but all this time he kept in remembrance the people of ireland who had never heard the gospel, and at last he determined to go and preach the good news in the country where he had been a slave and a swineherd. he was sixty years of age when he landed in wicklow as the apostle of christianity to ireland, but patrick was a strong old man and he had great faith in his message. up and down the country he travelled converting the heathen chiefs and their followers. as many as , people were baptised with his own hands, and by his efforts the christian religion was firmly planted in ireland. a great many marvellous stories are told about the saint. it is said, for instance, that on one occasion he made a heap of snow-balls blaze up into a fire by simply breathing upon them; and there is also the well-known legend that he drove all the snakes from ireland by the beating of a drum. the year of his death is uncertain, but we know that he must have been a very old man, and that he was buried at downpatrick. this is the man who is held in honour by irishmen in all parts of the world. on st. patrick's day they give themselves a holiday, and make merry,--those of them, at least, who still remain in the old catholic church. surely that is well. for in honouring st. patrick the irish people do honour to themselves, and to all that is noble and brave in their long sad history. all fools' day. he must have been a merry person who invented all fools' day, but no one can tell when he lived, where he lived, or what was his name. all we know about the matter is that the custom of fool-making upon the first of april is very old, and that it prevails over nearly the whole of europe. some people have tried to guess how this odd custom began, and they have found its origin in one of the old miracle plays that used to be played by the monks in the middle ages at the easter festival. in this play christ was represented as being sent hither and thither from one judge to another, from annas to caiaphas, and then from pilate to herod. this explanation is doubtful; it is more likely that the custom of fool-making had its origin in heathen times. in any case, it is a merry custom; and as the joker and the fool have many sons and daughters it is a custom that shall endure yet a while. the great thing on the first of april is to have a good memory. most people know about april fooling, but many people forget about it when the special day arrives. some of you children, no doubt, have forgotten; with the result that the joker with a good memory has made of you an april fool. in coming down to breakfast you have been asked quite solemnly, let us say, why your hair is brushed to the wrong side. if you have gone and peeped into a looking-glass there was an instant burst of laughter, and then you have become aware that all fools' day has come round again. some boys and girls get angry when they have been thus fooled; but that only adds to their foolishness. a good plan is to laugh with those who are laughing; and you can better this plan by catching the joker off his guard. by so doing you may, if you are clever at keeping a solemn face, make a fool of the joker in his turn. then the laugh is with you, and you can feel quite pleased with yourself until the next all fools' day. this is the great festival of the practical joker, and all is well when his jokes are simple and amusing. to pin a piece of paper on someone's back, or to send the school dunce into a bookseller's shop for a "history of adam's grandfather," is quite good fun. but there are some jokes which are carefully prepared in order to give pain to the persons upon whom they are played; they are not amusing, but merely cruel. it is not a good joke, for instance, to balance a bowl of water upon the top of a door, so that the first person to enter the room gets drenched. neither is it nice fun to send an innocent boy upon an errand with a letter containing the instruction: "send the fool another mile." this used to be a common form of april joke in scotland, and it was not unusual to keep the poor boy trudging long distances for the greater part of the day. this is not fun, but a stupid form of cruelty; and of much the same character as the hoax that is played upon tradesmen who are asked to send goods to a particular house upon a particular morning. it is only when the vans choke up the street from end to end that someone remembers it is the first of april, and that the practical joker--a stupid and heartless person in this case--has again been exhibiting his foolishness. palm sunday. in the new testament you have it written that jesus entered jerusalem for the last time riding on a colt, the foal of an ass. two of his disciples, acting upon the instructions of their master, had entered a village near the mount of olives, and there they found the colt by the door without, in a place where two ways met. they unloosed the animal, telling those that stood by and questioned them, that the master had need of him. then they brought the colt to jesus, who mounted upon its back, after some of the disciples had spread their garments thereon. it was thus that jesus rode into jerusalem to his death. and when the great multitude of people who were gathered to the passover saw him coming they cut branches from the palm trees by the side of the way, and spread them on the ground before jesus, while they cried with joyful voices: "hosanna; blessed be the king that cometh in the name of the lord." in this incident you have the origin of palm sunday. it is the first day of holy week, the week which is dedicated by the catholic church to the commemoration of the sufferings and death of jesus. with the early church throughout europe it was the custom to lay the branches of a tree upon the altar on this day, and as the palm tree does not grow in europe, the box, the yew, and especially the willow tree, were used instead. the branches were blessed by the priest, sprinkled with holy water, and then carried in procession through the town. as part of this procession it was sometimes arranged to have a figure representing jesus sitting upon an ass--either a living figure or one made of wood, sitting upon a wooden animal. this wooden effigy was drawn along upon wheels, and the people in the street scattered the consecrated branches before it. flowers were sometimes used as well as the branches of trees. it is a beautiful ceremony, this blessing of flowers and tree-branches upon palm sunday in memory of christ's entry into jerusalem, and it is one to interest all you children. but in the middle ages a great many unworthy things, such as the selling of palm-branches in order to avert diseases, became associated with palm sunday. indeed, that whole week, the week that should have been so solemn and sacred, was turned into an occasion of feasting and frivolity. at the reformation many of these unworthy things were abolished, and the ceremonies in connection with palm sunday were considerably modified here in england. yet in some parts of the country it is still a custom to go a-palming--that is to say, to gather willow-branches--on the day before palm sunday. with the roman catholic church, however, and especially in the ceremonies at rome during holy week, an important place is given to palm sunday. the officiating priest blesses the branches, which are then distributed. in the solemn mass that follows, the people in the congregation hold the branches in their hands to the end of the service. in most cases these consecrated branches are taken home and preserved during the year; then they are burned and the ashes used upon ash wednesday. maundy thursday. there is another day in holy week that has old and interesting ceremonies connected with it. this is maundy thursday, which always falls, of course, on the day before good friday. it is the day which is set apart to commemorate the humility and tender loving-kindness of jesus during that week of his suffering and death. you remember that, after the master with his disciples, had partaken of supper in that upper room in jerusalem, he rose up and laid aside his garments. then he took a towel and girded himself. after that he poured water into a basin, and began to wash the disciples' feet, and to wipe them with the towel wherewith he was girded. in this beautiful act of humility you have the origin of maundy thursday; and its odd name is derived from the circumstance that, in the ancient church, the anthem _maudatum novum_ was sung at the ceremony. for the early church consecrated this day to acts of lowliness in imitation of christ. the washing in public of the feet of the poor became the outward sign of humility in the whole church. in later times this washing was accompanied by gifts, and the ceremony was performed by kings and queens. thus we find, here in england, that queen elizabeth performed the ceremony at her palace of greenwich. the age of her majesty being thirty-nine, there were thirty-nine poor people chosen to assemble in her presence on maundy thursday. then the yeomen of the laundry, the sub-almoner, and finally the queen herself, washed each foot of the poor people in water mixed with sweet herbs, marked the sign of the cross above the toes, and then kissed it. afterwards various gifts were distributed to these poor people in clothes, food, and money. since james ii. no english monarch has performed this ceremony, but in spain and austria the yearly foot-washing upon holy thursday is still performed by the head of the state. in england the giving of gifts on maundy thursday has taken the place of foot-washing. during the reign of george ii. the old men and women who gathered in the banqueting house, at whitehall, received half-quartern loaves, boiled beef and mutton, herrings red and white, with small bowls of ale. they were also given shoes and stockings, cloth to make dresses, and a leathern bag filled with money. the money was in silver-pieces, of the value of a penny and upwards; and these coins being made at the mint for this special purpose were called maundy money. during the reign of queen victoria the giving of meat and clothes was discontinued, but the poor people still received their dole or maund. it is to be hoped that king edward vii. will continue this practice for--unlike some of the old customs--it is well worthy of being continued. most people are inclined to be proud, and when people are proud they are usually greedy and selfish. therefore, it is a good thing to have at least one day in the year set apart to help us to remember that true greatness, the greatness which jesus christ expects from his disciples, is only to be attained by lowliness and unselfishness. good friday. good friday is the friday before easter, and by the christian church it is regarded as one of the most sacred days in the whole year. from a very early time it was regarded, in a special degree, as a day of fasting and mourning, because upon this holy friday the crucifixion of jesus is commemorated. in the church of england before the reformation, and in the roman catholic church still, the church service upon good friday is peculiar. everything is made to appear mournful. the priests are dressed in black, at the elevation of the host a wooden clapper is used instead of a bell, all the glittering ornaments are removed from the altar, and the music is more than usually sad. but even more strange than that is the chief ceremony. in old times, it used to be that the priests had a figure of christ fixed to a crucifix which they carried round the church, treated with great reverence, and ultimately buried solemnly by torchlight. nowadays, this ceremony has been somewhat changed. on good friday the crucifix, in the roman catholic church, is placed before the altar. then the priests, followed by the whole congregation, approach the figure upon the crucifix creeping upon their knees, and reverently kiss its feet. this ceremony, and the chanting of the _miserere_, have a very solemnizing effect upon all who are present. long ago, here in england, there was an odd ceremony performed by the king upon good friday. this was called blessing the cramp-rings. the ceremony is said to have originated in a wonderful ring, presented by a pilgrim to edward the confessor, and long used in westminster abbey as a cure for falling-sickness and cramp. on good friday the king of england used to go in state to his private chapel, and creep humbly upon his knees towards the crucifix. following him came the king's almoner with a silver basin in which were a number of gold or silver rings, and these rings the king blessed. thereafter, they were given away to be used as an unfailing cure for cramp and epilepsy. in those days everybody believed that cramp-rings had the power to cure cramp, and in england to-day there are still a few people who so believe. you children, however, do not think of rings upon good friday; it is much better to think of hot cross buns. if you ask how it is that buns came to be eaten on this day i cannot answer. all that can be said is that bread, in one or another form, has always formed part of religious observances; and it may be that the spicy buns which you eat on good friday are connected with a religion that is older than christianity. all things change, you know, and even the desire for hot cross buns is not so great as it used to be when people struggled in crowds at the doors of the famous chelsea bun-houses. on good friday we do not so often hear the cry: one a penny, buns, two a penny, buns, one a penny, two a penny, hot cross buns! easter sunday. on good friday the death of jesus is commemorated, and that being so it is a day of gloom and sadness. on easter sunday the rising of jesus from the dead is commemorated, and that being so it is regarded by the christian church as a day of great joy. in the old times, indeed, it was called the sunday of joy, and in the eastern world it is still called the bright day. when friends met each other upon easter sunday the favourite salutation used to be: "he is risen," and to this was given the reply: "verily he is risen." everywhere there was happiness, and this happiness was shown in many ways. at easter slaves used to receive their freedom, while at the present day, in russia, birds that have been shut up in a cage have their cage-doors opened, and are permitted to fly away. that is a beautiful custom; an emblem of the freedom that jesus brought to the world when he broke the power of death in rising from the grave. in england this happiness is expressed in a practical manner by many marriages at eastertide. easter sunday is what is called a movable feast; it is not held each year upon the same day of the month. the rule is, that easter sunday is always the first sunday after the full moon that happens upon, or next after, the st of march; and if the full moon happens upon a sunday, easter day is the sunday after. as regards the name "easter," it is very likely derived from an old saxon deity called eastre; for when the christian religion was first preached to the heathen the missionaries often took an old heathen festival and turned it into a new christian festival. now, in the ancient heathen world there was always great joy and feasting in the spring-time when the sun began to rise higher and higher in the heavens, and there is little doubt that the early missionaries, when they converted the heathen, gave a new meaning to the old joy. jesus, the sun of righteousness, had risen from the dead; that was the new gladness. but christianity did not quite remove all the rites and ceremonies of the heathen worship; some of them, indeed, linger to this day. the ceremonies connected with fire, for instance, were very prominent in the heathen ritual, and in some parts of europe bonfires are lit at easter, while in the roman catholic church great importance is given to the lighting of candles and tapers. then again, there are the pasch or easter eggs--boiled hard and dyed in various colours--which are so interesting to children. this name of pasch is derived from the jewish festival of the passover, and the egg we now regard as an emblem of the resurrection; but all the old peoples of the world looked upon the egg as a symbol of new life coming forth with blessing. it was, in some respects, a sacred thing in the old heathen world of the egyptians and persians; while here in this country the easter eggs used to be blessed by the priests at the altar, and kept all the year as a charm against various ailments. is it not curious to think, children, how races and religions have come to be linked together by small things? these coloured eggs which please you so much at easter link you with strange old peoples and their strange old customs. st. george's day. on the back of some old english coins you will find the figure of a warrior on horseback, and in his hand a long spear with which he is slaying a dragon. that figure with the helmet and spear is st. george, the patron saint of england, and the patron saint of all that is chivalrous in christianity. regarding this hero and martyr we know very little; and indeed there are two men who have claims to be regarded as st. george. the most noble of these, and probably the true saint, was born of christian parents in cappadocia, became a warrior prince, and having testified for the christian faith, was put to death at nicomedia on april rd, a.d., by the roman emperor diocletian. from this time, and for that reason, he was venerated by all the christian churches, until about the year a.d. george of cappadocia was formally made a saint by pope gelasius. a great many legends have gathered round the name of st. george. the most famous of these, of course, is the story of how this christian warrior slew a dragon that was about to kill and devour a young girl. with heavy labour, and at great risk to himself st. george is said to have rescued the maiden and destroyed the dragon. it is a very interesting adventure, but unfortunately it cannot be accepted as literally true. in these old days it was quite common to attribute to brave men the slaying of a dragon, and that st. george was the bravest of the brave we need not doubt. there is also no doubt that, as a christian warrior, he fought against all that was sly, cruel and ravenous--these being the evil characteristics of a dragon. several nations adopted st. george as their patron saint, for his bravery was known all over christendom, and he was specially honoured during the crusades. it was in england, however, that the saint was held in highest esteem. in a.d. the rd april became a great national festival by order of the council of oxford; while in the reign of edward iii. the famous order of st. george, or the blue garter, was instituted. this is an order of knighthood, and when it was formed there was a great tournament in which forty of the stoutest and bravest of england's knights held the field against all the foreign knights who had been summoned to enter the contest. this order of st. george, better known as the order of the garter, still exists, and its motto is still the same: _honi soit qui mal y pense_. in recent times st. george's day has not been generously honoured by the english people. this is, indeed, a very great pity, because the saint is closely linked with english history; because his emblem--the red cross on a white ground--is to be seen wherever the british flag flies; and because he represents all that is best and bravest in the english character. "god and st. george"; "saint george and merrie england"--these were the stout battle cries which led on to victory when the foundations of the british empire were laid. he is a good patriot, therefore, who remembers st. george's day. may day. if there is one month in the year that is more joyful than another it is the month of may--the merry month of may. and it is not difficult to understand why it should be so. in europe it is the month when nature out-of-doors awakens into life; when leaves appear upon the trees; when flowers in profusion peep from among the grass; when the little birds in lane and woodland sing their sweetest. nature is joyously astir; and in the sunshine of the open sky all people, especially young people, find it good to be alive. that is the reason why may is the merry month. it is nature's holiday time; the time when she calls upon all folk who are weary of winter and rough weather, to come out of their stuffy houses and enjoy themselves for a little in green places, under the blue tent of the sky. it is the sun that brings all this new life and gladness as it goes higher in the heavens and shines brighter. so it happened that the ancient inhabitants of these islands, not knowing any better, held a great festival on the first of may to the praise and glory of the sun-god. a relic of this worship lingered until recently in the beltane fires that were lit on the high hills of scotland and ireland. it was the same with the old romans. they had a goddess of flowers called flora, and about the beginning of may they held a festival in her honour. the houses were decked with garlands, there was much feasting and dancing out-of-doors, and at these feasts the goddess herself was represented by a beautiful maiden crowned with flowers. there is reason to think that some of our may day customs were derived from these ancient peoples. in any case, it has always been a joyful day in england, especially in the ancient times before the puritans abolished may-poles and merry-making. not only the citizens of london, but also the lords and ladies of the court, used to go out to the woods around the city--it was a very much smaller city then--and gather hawthorn blossom. this they called going a-maying, and the flower of the hawthorn came to be called may-blossom. it was brought into hamlet, town, and city with great rejoicing, and to the sound of music. then the whole day thereafter was spent in merry-making. in every town and village there was a tall pole fixed, called a may-pole; and on may day this pole, the centre of all the frolic, was made gay with great garlands of flowers. every town and village, also, had a queen of the may, a maiden who was chosen for her beauty, and who sat apart crowned with flowers, an object of envy and admiration. the lads and lassies sang carols, played at such games as kiss-in-the-ring, and danced the morris dance. not many of these customs now remain; the may-poles have disappeared; and very few of you children, i suppose, go a-maying. do you not think that is a mistake? i do; the work-a-day world is not such a mirthful place that we can afford to forget the cheery old customs, and there are surely many worse ways of spending a day than in dancing round a may-pole. i am sure that you children would like to have the merry-making of may day brought back again. royal oak day. in your english history-book you will find some account of oliver cromwell and the many battles he fought against the royal house of stuart and the cavaliers. one of the most famous of these was the battle of worcester, fought near the town of that name on the rd september, , in which the army of king charles ii. was utterly defeated. as the result of this defeat by cromwell, all the followers of the king were placed in danger, and the king's life was in great jeopardy. the only thing he could do was to flee out of england, but that was no easy matter because his enemies were numerous, and they searched for him with great diligence. his first plan was to try to reach london before the news of his defeat, and by proceeding from there in disguise he hoped to get a ship on the south coast that would carry him to france. this plan was in part successful, but before he embarked at shoreham, near brighton, the fugitive king had many strange adventures and hair-breadth escapes. one of the most notable of these was connected with a large country house called boscobel, situated in shropshire, and about thirty-seven miles from worcester, where the great battle was fought. in fleeing northward after the fight charles was accompanied by many of his followers, but in order to give him a better chance to escape the king was advised to leave all the others and make his way to boscobel where the folk were all friendly. this he did, with trusty richard penderel for his guide; and as the house was a lonely place set among woods, the king hoped that he would not be disturbed. but the pursuit after him was very hot, and the soldiers of cromwell arrived in the neighbourhood. so the king had to seek a hiding-place somewhere out of doors, and one of his friends, colonel william careless, suggested that they should conceal themselves among the branches of a large bushy oak-tree that stood near the house. there the two remained for a whole day, with little to eat except bread and cheese, and with the constant fear of being discovered. from where they sat among the branches they could peep through the leaves and see the soldiers searching the woods around. but they were not discovered, and at length the king escaped from that neighbourhood dressed like a countryman in leathern doublet and green jerkin. after many years, as you all know, the man who hid in the oak-tree was invited to return to england, where he reigned as charles ii. it was on the th may, , and the king's thirtieth birthday, that he entered london in triumph. the story of his adventure in the oak-tree having become known, garlands of oak-branches, and the royal oak used as a symbol, were prominent in the coronation ceremonies; while from thenceforth the th may was established as royal oak day, or oak-apple day. during the restoration period, and for long afterwards, it was the custom to go forth into the woods on the morning of that day and gather branches of oak. in town and village the houses were decorated with the woodland spoil, and thus did the people of england exhibit their loyalty to the house of stuart. even now the old custom lingers in out-of-the-way hamlets, and the sign of the royal oak may still be seen on many an old inn, but the oak-leaf and the acorn have lost all their significance in the world of politics. oak-apple day, i fear, will never again become a general holiday. midsummer's eve. midsummer day is the th june; this is also the day upon which the birth of st. john the baptist is celebrated by the christian church. during the middle ages it was a joyous time of feast and merry-making, for in these old times, as you must have gathered from this little book, people did not work and worry so much as they do nowadays. but here is a curious thing: nearly all the ceremonies connected with this holiday were performed the night previous--variously called midsummer's eve, or st. john's eve. these customs and ceremonies were observed in various forms throughout christendom, and some of them were very strange. i have often had to tell you that many of our holiday practices and usages were founded upon ancient heathen rites and ceremonies; this is perhaps more observable in connection with midsummer eve than upon any other holiday occasion. flowers and fire were two things that became of great importance on midsummer's eve. nearly every town and village had its bonfire lit in the market-place, and at one time these fires were formally blessed by the priests of the church. one practice connected with these fires, a practice that carries us far back into heathen times, was the way in which the boys and girls leaped through and over the flames. it was also customary to fling flowers and garlands into the fires, while the people, young and old, circled round the blaze with merry antics and gleeful songs. great processions were also formed to visit the woods and bring back green boughs wherewith to decorate the houses on st. john's eve. the boughs were hung round doors and windows with joyful shoutings, in recognition of the prophecy that many would rejoice at the birth of john the baptist. midsummer's eve was regarded as a time when the strangest things might easily happen. that is probably the reason why shakspere called his play "a midsummer day's dream," and make puck and the other fairies play such pranks with the mortals that they found wandering out-of-doors. it used to be a common belief in ireland, and the superstition still lingers, that on this night the souls of all sleeping people left their bodies, and went wandering into strange places, sometimes never to return. to avoid this dangerous possibility it was usual to keep awake during that night. but to keep watch did not always prevent the watcher from having gruesome experiences. in england it was quite a prevalent opinion that if you sat in the church porch all st. john's eve you would see the spirits of those who were soon to die in the parish come and knock at the church door. there were various other superstitious practices and beliefs associated with midsummer's eve--most of them weird and heathenish--which you will read about when you grow older. they belong to a time when people were very ignorant, and therefore very credulous. happily, we are forgetting all these foolish beliefs; and for my part i find midsummer's eve interesting and beautiful because the light is slow to fade from the sky, because the wild roses make a pleasant scent in the lanes, and because the nightingale from the copsewood brims the darkness with melodious joy. st. swithin's day. in europe there are various saints who are supposed to have had some influence upon the weather; france has its st. médard, and england has its st. swithin. our actual knowledge of this old english saint is very scanty, and the grounds upon which he has been associated with dry and wet weather are of dubious origin. we are told that st. swithin was a monk in the old abbey of winchester, and that because of his zeal he became prior and then bishop of that see. we are told, also, that he erected numerous churches, while his piety and learning were such that egbert, king of wessex, gave him his son and successor to educate. as was usual with good men in those days, many miraculous deeds were attributed to st. swithin, and finally he died in the year a.d. he was buried in the churchyard at winchester, in a humble spot of his own selection. more than a hundred years afterwards the clergy of the diocese of winchester thought that the saint deserved more honour than a grave under the dripping eaves of the cathedral. accordingly, they arranged to remove the body inside with great ceremony, and the date selected for this event was the th july. thereafter this day was regarded as st. swithin's day because, if we are to believe popular legend, he objected to have his body removed from the humble place in the graveyard chosen by himself. in order to give outward and visible sign of his displeasure violent rains descended on that th of july, and the torrent continued for forty days, so that the ceremony of removing the saint's body was delayed, while the clergy of the diocese were thus rebuked for their presumption. hence there grew up the popular belief which finds expression in the old rhyme: st. swithin's day, if thou dost rain, for forty days it will remain: st. swithin's day, if thou be fair, for forty days 'twill rain nae mair. there is, of course, no truth in this old adage, although there are some people who still profess to believe in it. the men whose business it is to watch the weather day by day and write down all they observe, will tell you that it does not matter in the least, as far as the rain of the following forty days is concerned, whether it is wet or dry on the th july. it is even very doubtful whether the ceremony of removing the saint's body was marked by any special downpour of rain; the fact is not mentioned by the chroniclers of that time. like many other things connected with holidays and holy days this legend regarding st. swithin has its origin, probably in the heathen times that preceded christianity. that would account, at least, for the curious fact that there are several rainy saints in europe. michaelmas day. the th september is dedicated as a feast day in the christian church to st. michael and all angels. in the bible the angel michael is mentioned several times, and always as a fighter, especially against satan. thus you find it stated in the epistle of jude that michael the archangel contended with the devil regarding the body of moses. in the book of the revelation of st. john, again, you will find it written that there was war in heaven. michael and his angels fought against the dragon; and the dragon fought and his angels, and prevailed not; neither was their place found any more in heaven. and the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the devil. he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him. you will gather from this that st. michael always appears in the character of a warrior; and as the christian church accomplished a great deal of fighting, especially during the time of the crusades, it can easily be understood that the warlike archangel was popular. in old pictures he is usually represented in a coat of mail, and with a short spear in his hand, hurling satan downwards to the earth. john milton, in his "paradise lost," makes full use of this conception of the archangel, only that he puts a great and marvellous sword into his hand: "the sword of michael from the armoury of god was given him tempered so, that neither keen nor solid might resist that edge; it met the sword of satan, with steep force to smite descending, and in half cut sheer; nor stayed, but, with swift wheel reverse, deep entering shared all his right side: then satan first knew pain." in old times it was usual to have a saint or an angel for one's guardian, and as michael, according to the church, was both of these he was popular as a heavenly protector. but an earthly protector was also required, and thus it came about--whether by accident or intentionally i cannot tell--that magistrates were chosen upon michaelmas day. thus you find that the lord mayor of london is elected on the th of september. this day is also one of the four quarterly terms; the day upon which many people pay their rent; and not always, therefore, a day of joy. in old times when the farmer took his rent to the lord of the manor it was usual for him to carry a fat goose in his hand as a present. from this practice it has established itself as a custom to have a goose for dinner on michaelmas day; another good reason is that geese, when fed upon the chance grain of autumn's stubbled fields, are always at their fattest and best. it is curious to note, how that, although a holy day or a holiday may have begun with the adoration of saint or angel, it usually survives for us in some form of eating. but you children, i am sure, do not object. all hallow's eve. the night of the st october has a character peculiar to itself, and to you children it has some ceremonies that possess special interest. in england it is known as all hallow's eve; while in scotland, where its customs are most varied and remarkable, it is known as halloween. it is the eve of all saints' day, but there is little or nothing connected with the popular practices of that night that suggest christianity. on the contrary, they suggest some old pagan worship and a mysterious impish world that holds high carnival for that one night. many of the customs and rites connected with this revel--described vividly and amusingly by robert burns in "halloween"--are not known to the scots people of the present day; but some few of them are still practised, even in england. nuts and apples become of great importance upon all hallow's eve. the nuts are not for eating--although that were probably a wise use to which to put them--but to play a mysterious part in deciding the fate of lovers. for this purpose two nuts are dropped into a bright red fire, side by side, and the name of the lad and lass, whose fates are to be decided, is given to each nut. the nuts themselves give the decision. if they burn quietly together then all is well; but on the other hand, if the nuts (or one of them) jump out of the fire, then things will go ill with the two lovers. here is how burns describes the practice: "the auld guidwife's weel-hoordet nits are round and round devided, and mony lads and lasses fates are there that night decided: some kindle, couthie, side by side, and burn together trimly; some start awa, with saucy pride, and jump out ower the chimlie full high that night." apples have a quite different use. on halloween they are placed in large quantities in a big tub nearly full of water. the apples are then stirred round vigorously, while the boys and girls, each in turn, try to snatch an apple from the water, not using their hands, but their teeth alone. sometimes one has to dip one's head right down to the bottom of the tub in chase of a big apple, and that is rather a chilly experience, as i am able to testify. the modern plan of dropping a fork into the tub, over the back of a chair, may spoil, just a little, the apples that are impaled, but it is a good preventitive of a cold in the head--the usual result of ducking for apples. there are many other customs connected with halloween, some of them mysterious and uncanny, which you will learn by and bye. but these two, the burning of nuts and the hunting of apples will do you no possible harm. on the contrary, where there is a lot of you children present, they will give much innocent fun and laughter. guy fawkes' day. there is another name for this day; it is sometimes called gunpowder plot day, and that name informs us how it happened that the th november became famous in english history. that was the day upon which a few catholic gentlemen, over-zealous for their religion, determined to destroy king james i., and the houses of lords and commons, by means of gunpowder. it was a gentleman named catesby who conceived this murderous plot, and he was joined by several other conspirators. the most famous of these, although he can scarcely be regarded as the most guilty, was a gentleman called guy fawkes who had fought bravely with the spanish army in flanders. he was brought over to england in order to carry out the plot, and like all the other conspirators he took a vow of secrecy. in itself the plot was very simple. the conspirators hired a house near to the building where parliament met, and their intention was to dig an underground passage-way between the two buildings, and to prepare under parliament house a large mine charged with gunpowder. they found difficulties, however, in carrying out this scheme, chief of these being the thickness of the wall through which they had to pierce. eventually, the digging of this underground passage-way was abandoned, because the conspirators found that they could hire a cellar right under the house of lords. this would be far more convenient, they thought; so they hired it from a coal-dealer, and put thirty-six barrels of gunpowder into it. the barrels were carefully covered with faggots, and in the month of may, , all was ready to blow the king and his parliament into the air. but parliament did not meet until the th november, and by that time the secret had leaked out. there have been great differences of opinion regarding the manner in which the plot was revealed. it appears, however, that a mysterious letter was sent by mr. francis tresham, one of the conspirators, to his brother-in-law lord monteagle, warning him regarding the coming disaster. this letter is said to have led to a search in the cellars under parliament house, but it is quite probable that the plot was revealed in a more direct manner. in any case, the gunpowder was discovered in the cellar, and beside it was guy fawkes. he was arrested on the early morning of the th november by a westminster magistrate and a party of soldiers. when the other conspirators heard that the plot had failed they fled into the country, but the most of them were captured, tried for high treason along with guy fawkes, and with him were hanged as traitors in st. paul's churchyard. for many years after this plot was discovered the th day of november was kept as a national holiday, and the people expressed their patriotism and their protestantism in huge bonfires, with shoutings and the ringing of bells. also, it was regarded as the proper thing on this day to parade a scarecrow effigy of guy fawkes, which was finally burned as a warning to traitors. now the day is only remembered by boys who are bent upon a frolic, for this old rhyme has lost much of its significance: remember, remember! the fifth of november, the gunpowder treason and plot; there is no reason why the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot! lord mayor's day. in london the th of november has been regarded, for many centuries, as a day of special importance. it is lord mayor's day. that is to say, the new lord mayor of the city of london, who was elected by the freemen of the city guilds on michaelmas day, goes in his state coach to the law courts to be "sworn into" office by his majesty's judges. until recent times the law courts were situated at westminster, and in old westminster hall some of the greatest trials in english history took place,--such as the trials of lord cobham, strafford, and warren hastings. now the law courts are situated in the strand, near to the spot where stood temple bar. the lord mayor of london has still a certain amount of authority within the city bounds, but nothing like what he used to possess. at one time, indeed, in his capacity of head of all the great trade guilds, he was more powerful than any of the king's nobles, and in london he exercised almost as much authority as the king himself. from this you will understand that when he, in the old times, journeyed from the city of london to the city of westminster it was a great occasion, because the lord mayor was in truth a great man. the stately pageants wended to westminster on lord mayor's day both by coach and water-barge; glittering pageants that had a real significance. in many cases they were devised by clever play-wrights, and their glories recorded in the verses of the poet laureates. in the year sir john leman, of the fishmongers' company, was lord mayor, and part of his pageant was a fishing-boat with fishermen drawing up their nets laden with living fish which they distributed among the people. this boat, set upon a wheeled stage, was followed by a dolphin with a youth on its back; then the king of the moors, with six tributary kings on horseback; then a lemon-tree (the mayor's name was leman) laden with fruit and flowers; then a bower adorned with the names and arms of all members of the fishmongers' company; then an armed officer, with a representation of the head of wat tyler; lastly there was a great car drawn by mermen and mermaids, and on the top of it was a victorious angel, with a representation of king richard surrounded by figures that symbolized all the royal virtues. some of the lord mayor's pageants were even more splendid than this one. gilded chariots, giants, bowers wreathed with flowers, men in armour, full-rigged ships, satyrs, bannermen--these things, and many other fanciful contrivances, found a place in the lord mayor's procession. and this procession still forms a part of london life, but it has lost all its significance; and a great deal of its interest, even as a show. on the th day of each november the lord mayor's gilded coach, with a few mounted soldiers, the heralds, the aldermen in coaches, the city firemen, and a few symbolical cars block the traffic of london from east to west. it is not an occasion of great historical interest, yet it still draws great crowds, for your true londoner loves a procession that goes to the sound of brazen music. the lord mayor's show is also--just like a circus procession--beloved of all boys and girls. st. andrew's day. in this little book you have already been presented to three patron saints. there was st. david, the patron saint of wales; st. patrick, the patron saint of ireland; and st. george, the patron saint of england. now we come to st. andrew, the patron saint of scotland, who is honoured by scotsmen on the th november in each year. the first mention of this saint is in the new testament where he, with his brother simon peter, became a disciple of christ, after having been a disciple of john the baptist. after the death of christ this first disciple of his became a missionary in many lands. from tradition we learn that st. andrew travelled and preached the gospel in scythia, thrace and asia minor. finally, we are told that he suffered martyrdom for the christian faith at patræ, in achaia. the cross on which he died was in the form of an x, and that is now known as the st. andrew's cross. but how did this saint come to be connected with scotland? well, the story told is this: there was once a monk who lived in the fourth century called regulus, or rule, who brought the bones of st. andrew from constantinople--where they had been deposited in a church by the emperor constantine--and buried them near the sea on the east coast of scotland. there he built a church, and round the church there gradually gathered a little hamlet. in course of time, the hamlet became a city with a cathedral and a university, and in your geography books you will find it called st andrews. i am not sure that i can ask you to believe all this story, for it is only a monkish legend. but at least part of it is true. if there was no such monk as regulus, there is certainly a very pleasant city called st. andrews, in which there is a building called st. rule's tower. here is another sure thing that i can tell you. there is an order of knighthood called the order of st. andrew, although it is more often called the order of the thistle. it was created by james ii. in , and it includes the king and sixteen knights. the insignia of the order consists of a gold collar composed of thistles interlaced with red; the jewel is a figure of st. andrew in the middle of a star of eight pointed rays; and the motto of the order is _nemo me impune lacessit_. this is a motto which scotsmen carry with them all over the world. all over the world, also, scotsmen keep in remembrance two days; and on these days they meet together to express love of the old home. one of these days is the th november--st. andrew's day. curiously enough, it is not a holiday in scotland, nor do the people there hold it much in remembrance. but when a scotsman goes into a strange country--though it be no further than london--he begins to think a very great deal of his homeland, and all the ill things he said of it when he lived there are quickly forgotten. bleak and barren it may have been to them once, but when scotsmen meet on st. andrew's day, or on the birthday of robert burns, they discover that scotland is the most lovely country in the world. this is just as it should be. i hope that all you children, wherever you may travel, will keep a great love for the land where you were born. christmas eve. of all nights of the year there is not one that is more anxiously awaited by young people than the night that precedes christmas. then begins the great festival of the year; the festival in honour of the birth of christ; the festival that reminds us of the child born in a manger, of the shepherds near bethlehem watching their flocks by night, and of the angels that sang of peace and goodwill to men. it is the most joyous of all holiday seasons; prepared for long before, and remembered pleasantly long afterwards. this is true of england to-day, and it was even more true of the england of the olden times--as you will find if you read sir walter scott's poem of _marmion_: "england was merry england, when old christmas brought his sports again. 'twas christmas broached the mightiest ale; 'twas christmas told the merriest tale; a christmas gambol oft would cheer the poor man's heart through half the year." at midnight on christmas eve the bells are rung, and in roman catholic churches the first of the three masses is celebrated,--christ's masses. but although this is a christian festival there are curious customs observed which take us back into the old heathen world. there is the miseltoe bough, for instance, which you hang up in the hall; and there is the yule log. the old druids had a feast at this season--the time of the winter solstice--when the chief druid cut the miseltoe from the oak-tree, where it grew, and divided it among the people, who hung it up over their doorways as a charm to bring good-fortune. then, again, the yule log is a relic of the ceremony in which the norsemen lighted great bonfires in honour of their gods. to bring home the yule log on christmas eve is not so common as it used to be, but it deserves to be remembered as one of the most joyous of old english customs. so, also, are the carols, the waits, the mummers, and the games of christmas time. some of these games and mummeries were a little too boisterous for our modern taste, probably because they had their origin in the heathen saturnalia of old rome. but we still love to hear the waits tuning up on a clear frosty night, the game of snap-dragon is still a noisy joy, and the carol-singers are still welcome. i am sure you like that old carol which begins: "god rest you merry, gentlemen, let nothing you dismay for jesus christ our saviour was born upon this day to save us all from satan's power when we were gone astray." but probably the best thing you children like about christmas eve is the ceremony of hanging up your stockings in expectation of all the things that are to come to you from the wallet of santa claus. that is the great event. some of you, i believe, try to lie awake until santa claus comes with the fruit and the toys. but that is never a success. all the best gifts come to us when we do not peep and watch. christmas day. on christmas day, in most households, the children are the first to make themselves heard. there are shouts of wonder and glee from the nursery bedrooms when it is discovered that santa claus has actually paid his long-talked-about visit, and that he has brought in his wallet just the things that were desired. the shouts of one awakens all the others, and the chatter is great as the children rush about displaying their new-found treasures to one another. this morning the nursery rules are disregarded, because christmas comes but once a year. children are permitted to run upstairs and downstairs in their night garments; to skip about and laugh and chatter; and even to appear late at the breakfast table. it is more than likely, indeed, that the breakfast itself will be late, for the grown-ups in most households are usually as excited as the children. but it is christmas day, a day of joy for everybody. all the old stiff rules are relaxed for this happiest day of all the year. yet the church must not be neglected, nor must it be forgotten that christmas is a sacred festival. to do honour to the babe jesus that was born in a manger at bethlehem--that is the real meaning of the gladness of christmas day. so all you children should love to go to the church in the forenoon. it will be pleasant for you in many ways, especially if the air is clear, with a touch of frost in it, and the winter sun shining brightly. in any case you will find that the service in church, like the church itself, is brighter on christmas day than at ordinary times. you will like to see the old church trimmed up with holly and holly-berries; you will join in the cheerful christmas hymns with more than your usual heartiness. it will be pleasant for you to think that all over the world, men and women of every nation are doing honour to one who was once a child like yourselves. then it is home to dinner, a real christmas dinner. i do not suppose that you will dine with a boar's head on the table, or that you will be permitted to taste a peacock stuffed with spices and sweet herbs. these were two of the dishes that figured in the good old times, but they have long been discarded. yet the christmas goose is still popular, and in almost equal favour is the roast beef of old england. with you children, however, the plum-pudding and the mince pies and the fruit will be in most demand. how many helpings? i dare not say how many, for christmas day brings its own appetite, but you must try--just a very little--not to be greedy when the pudding comes in ablaze. because greediness is ugly, and also because christmas does not end with dinner-time. there is the evening with its romps, its games, its dances and its christmas tree. it is the christmas tree, probably, that will give you most pleasure, with all its glittering ornaments, its coloured flags, and its lighted candles. this is a pleasure which english children, in the old times, did not share, because the christmas tree for children was only introduced to this country in the reign of queen victoria. indeed, the whole tendency nowadays is to make of christmas a children's holiday. this is well; because by so doing--by making the lives of all children, and especially all poor children, brighter at this season--we shall give most honour and praise to the babe that was born in lowly bethlehem. boxing day. when people are in a good humour--and everybody is supposed to be in a good humour at christmas--they find it easy to give little gifts to their relations, friends, children and servants. on christmas day these gifts are given to friends and the children of the household, but on the day after christmas the servants and dependents obtain their share of the gifts in what is called a christmas box. hence the th december has come to be recognized as boxing day. this is a very old custom, and probably it has its origin in certain customs that were observed by the romans during the saturnalia. at that season presents were distributed to all, and for one day, at least, the roman slaves received the gift of freedom. that was a good custom. it was wise for the early christian church to adopt this method of giving presents at christmastide, but the custom has lost some of its wisdom by use. the art of giving wisely is a very difficult art; almost as difficult as the art of receiving wisely. at christmas time this becomes very plain to us, and it is especially obvious to us on boxing day. many of the gifts bestowed on that day are bestowed with a grudge, and received as a matter of right. that is not as it should be, for all pleasure is lost when a gift is bestowed in a stingy spirit, and taken with a thankless hand. i feel sure that you children do not give or receive your christmas boxes in that manner. if you have any little gift to bestow upon the people who do you a service throughout the year, you will do it cheerfully. and if any one gives you a little gift, do not turn it over and over looking at all sides, but accept it with thankfulness and a cheerful countenance. by so doing you will find that boxing day is one of the most pleasant days in all the year. for a london child there is an interesting event that always happens on the th december. the pantomimes begin upon boxing day. your old friends the harlequin, the clown, the pantaloon bounce upon the stage with all their old antics and most of their old jokes. but the more ancient the jokes are, i think you like them the better. when i was a boy i liked to see the clown play tricks upon the policeman, and startle innocent people with a red-hot poker. i am sure that you feel just like that to-day, and that you laugh as heartily as i did. there is nothing better than laughter; and throughout england, in every playhouse, a great tide of laughter begins upon boxing day. and now we have reached almost the last day of the year, and quite the last page of this little book. since new year's day we have travelled together, and i have tried to explain to you the meaning of the various holy days and holidays. i have tried to make the explanations interesting, and not exactly like the dull books that grown-ups read. but i am not sure that i have succeeded; holidays are stupid things when they are set down in print. it is far better to take them just as they come along, and enjoy the good things they bring. holidays are like the pictures in a dry book. when i was a boy i sometimes skipped the reading and enjoyed the pictures. you can skip the reading in this book if you like. finis. the corset and the crinoline. the corset and the crinoline. a book of modes and costumes from remote periods to the present time. by w. b. l. with full-page and other engravings. "o wha will shoe my fair foot, and wha will glove my han'? and wha will lace my middle jimp wi' a new-made london ban'?" _fair annie of lochroyan._ london: ward, lock, and tyler. warwick house, paternoster row. london printed by jas. wade, tavistock street, covent garden preface. the subject which we have here treated is a sort of figurative battle-field, where fierce contests have for ages been from time to time waged; and, notwithstanding the determined assaults of the attacking hosts, the contention and its cause remain pretty much as they were at the commencement of the war. we in the matter remain strictly neutral, merely performing the part of the public's "own correspondent," making it our duty to gather together such extracts from despatches, both ancient and modern, as may prove interesting or important, to take note of the vicissitudes of war, mark its various phases, and, in fine, to do our best to lay clearly before our readers the historical facts--experiences and arguments--relating to the much-discussed "_corset question_." as most of our readers are aware, the leading journals especially intended for the perusal of ladies have been for many years the media for the exchange of a vast number of letters and papers touching the use of the corset. the questions relating to the history of this apparently indispensable article of ladies' attire, its construction, application, and influence on the figure have become so numerous of late that we have thought, by embodying all that we can glean and garner relating to corsets, their wearers, and the various costumes worn by ladies at different periods, arranging the subject-matter in its due order as to dates, and at the same time availing ourselves of careful illustration when needed, that an interesting volume would result. no one, we apprehend, would be likely to deny that, to enable the fairer portion of the civilised human race to follow the time-honoured custom of presenting to the eye the waist in its most slender proportions, the corset in some form must be had recourse to. our information will show how ancient and almost universal its use has been, and there is no reason to anticipate that its aid will ever be dispensed with so long as an elegant and attractive figure is an object worth achieving. such being the case, it becomes a matter of considerable importance to discover by what means the desirable end can be acquired without injury to the health of those whose forms are being restrained and moulded into proportions generally accepted as graceful, by the use and influence of the corset. it will be our duty to lay before the reader the strictures of authors, ancient and modern, on this article of dress, and it will be seen that the animadversions of former writers greatly exceed modern censures, both in number and fierceness of condemnation. this difference probably arises from the fact of corsets of the most unyielding and stubborn character being universally made use of at the time the severest attacks were made upon them; and there can be no reasonable doubt that much which was written in their condemnation had some truth in it, although accompanied by a vast deal of fanciful exaggeration. it would also be not stating the whole of the case if we omitted here to note that modern authors, who launch sweeping anathemas on the very stays by the aid of which their wives and daughters are made presentable in society, almost invariably quote largely from scribes of ancient date, and say little or nothing, of their own knowledge. on the other hand, it will be seen that those writing in praise of the moderate use of corsets take their facts, experiences, and grounds of argument from the everyday life and general custom of the present period. the crinoline is too closely associated with the corset and with the mutable modes affected by ladies, from season to season, to be omitted from any volume which treats of fashion. the same facts, indeed, may be stated of both the crinoline and the corset. both appear to be equally indispensable to the woman of the present period. to make them serve the purposes of increased cleanliness, comfort, and grace, not only without injury to the health, but with positive and admitted advantage to the _physique_--these are the problems to be solved by those whose business it is to minister to the ever-changing taste and fashion of the day. [illustration] contents. chapter i. the corset:--origin. use amongst savage tribes and ancient people. slenderness of waist esteemed in the east, ceylon, circassia, crim tartary, hindustan, persia, china, egypt, palestine pages to chapter ii. the corset according to homer, terentius. the strophium of rome, and the mitra of greece. the peplus. a roman toilet, bath, and promenade. general luxury. cleopatra's jewels. tight-lacing on the tiber pages to chapter iii. frankish fashions. the monks and the corset. corsets worn by gentlemen as well as ladies in the thirteenth century. the kirtle. small waists in scotland. chaucer on small bodies. the surcoat. long trains. skirts. snake-toed shoes. high-heeled slippers pages to chapter iv. bonnets. headdresses. costumes in the time of francis i. pins in france and england. masks in france. puffed sleeves. bernaise dress. marie stuart. long slender waists. henry iii. of france "tight-laces." austrian joseph prohibits stays. catherine de medici and elizabeth of england. severe form of corset. lawn ruffs. starching. stuffed hose. venice fashions. elizabeth's false hair. stubs on the ladies. james i. affects fashion. garters and shoe-roses. dagger and rapier pages to chapter v. louise de lorraine. marie de medici. distended skirts. hair powder. hair _à l'enfant_. low dresses. louis xiv. high heels. slender waists. siamese dress. charles i. patches. elaborate costumes. puritan modes. tight-lacing and strait-lacing under cromwell. augsburg ladies pages to chapter vi. louis xv. À la watteau. barbers. fashions under queen anne. diminutive waists and enormous hoop. the farthingale. the _guardian_. fashions in . low dresses. tight stays. short skirts. a lady's maid's accomplishments. gay and ben jonson on the bodice and stays pages to chapter vii. stays or corset. louis xvi. dress in . severe lacing. hogarth. french revolution. short waists. long trains. buchan. jumpers and garibaldis. figure-training. backboards and stocks. doctors on stays. george iii. gentlemen's stays. the changes of fashion. the term crinoline not new. south sea islanders. madame la sante on crinoline. starving and lacing. anecdote. wearing the corset during sleep. american belles. illusion waists. medicus favours moderate tight-lacing. ladies' letters on tight-lacing pages to chapter viii. the austrian empress. viennese waists. london small-sized corsets. correspondence of _the queen_ and the _englishwoman's domestic magazine_. lady morton. figure-training. corsets for young girls. early use of well-constructed corsets. the boarding-school and the corset. letters in praise of tight-lacing. defence of the crinoline and the corset. the venus de medici. fashionably-dressed statue. clumsy figures. letter from a tight-lacer. a young baronet. a family man pages to chapter ix. no elegance without the corset. fashion of . short waist and train of . tight corset and short waist. a form of french corset. proportions of figure and waist. the point of the waist. older writers on stays. denunciations against small waists and high heels. alarming diseases through high heels. female mortality. corset statistics. modern and ancient corset pages to chapter x. front-fastening stays. thomson's corset. stability of front-fastening corset. de la garde's corset. self-measurement. viennese _redresseur_ corset. flimsy corsets. proper materials. "minet back" corset. elastic corsets. narrow bands injurious. the corset properly applied produces a graceful figure. the farthingale reviewed. thomson's zephyrina crinoline. costume of the present season. the claims of nature. similitude between the tahitian girl and venetian lady pages to list of illustrations. page . the dawn of the corset . circassian lady . egyptian lady in full skirt . persian dancing girl . egyptian lady in narrow skirt . lady of ancient greece . roman lady of rank (reign of heliogabalus) . the fiend of fashion, from an ancient manuscript . the princess blanche, daughter of edward iii. . lady of rank of the thirteenth century . lady of the court of queen catherine de medici . full court dress as worn in france, . ladies of fashion in the costume of . norman headdress of the present day . lady of the court of charles viii., . lady of the court of maximilian of germany and francis of france . corset-cover of steel worn in the time of catherine de medici . corset-cover of steel worn in the reign of queen elizabeth (open) . the bernaise headdress, and costume of marie stuart . corset-cover of steel worn in the reign of queen elizabeth (closed) . henry iii. of france and the princess margaret of lorraine . lady of the court of queen elizabeth . a venetian lady of fashion, . queen elizabeth . court dress during the boyhood of louis xiii. . marie de medici . fancy costumes of the time of louis xiv. . siamese dress worn at the court of louis xiv. . young english lady of fashion, . fancy dress worn in the reign of louis xv. . costumes after watteau . crinoline in . low bodies and curtailed crinoline . court dress of the reign of louis xvi. . classic costume of the french revolutionary period . lady of fashion, . fashionable dress in . lady of fashion, . lady of fashion, . lady of fashion, . the crinoline of a south sea islander . the fashion of . the fashion of . corset, forming both corset and stomacher (front) . corset, forming both corset and stomacher (back) . common cheap stay, fastened . common cheap stay, open . the glove-fitting corset (thomson and co.) . corset of messrs. de la garde, paris (front) . corset of messrs. de la garde, paris (back) . the redresseur corset of vienna (weiss) . the fashion of . the zephyrina jupon (thomson and co.) . tahitian dancing girl and venetian lady the corset and the crinoline. chapter i. the origin of the corset--the indian hunting-belt--reduction of the figure by the ancient inhabitants of polenqui--use of the corset by the natives of the eastern archipelago--improvements in construction brought about by the advance of civilisation--slenderness of waist esteemed a great beauty in the east--earth-eating in java--figure-training in ceylon--the beauties of circassia, their slender waists and corsets--elegant princesses of crim tartary--hindoo belles--hindoo ideas of beauty--elegance of figure highly esteemed by the persians--letter from a chinese gentleman (woo-tan-zhin) on slender waists--researches amongst the antiquities of egypt--fashions of the egyptian ladies--the corset in use among the israelitish ladies--the elegance of their costume, bridal dress, &c.--scriptural references. for the origin of the corset we must travel back into far antiquity. how far it would be difficult to determine. the unreclaimed savage who, bow in hand, threads the mazes of the primeval forests in pursuit of the game he subsists on, fashions for himself, from the skin of some animal which good fortune may have cast in his way, a belt or girdle from which to suspend his rude knife, quiver, or other hunting gear; and experience teaches him that, to answer the purpose efficiently, it should be moderately broad and sufficiently stiff to prevent creasing when secured round the waist. a sharpened bone, or fire-hardened stick, serves to make a row of small holes at each end; a strip of tendon, or a thong of hide, forms a lace with which the extremities are drawn together, thereby giving support to the figure during the fatigues of the chase. the porcupine's quill, the sea-shell, the wild beast's tooth, and the cunningly-dyed root, all help to decorate and ornament the hunting-belt. the well-formed youths and graceful belles of the tribe were not slow in discovering that, when arrayed in all the panoply of forest finery, a belt well drawn in, as shown in the annexed illustration, served to display the figure to much greater advantage than one carelessly or loosely adjusted. here, then, we find the first indication of the use of the corset as an article of becoming attire. at the very first dawn of civilisation there are distinct evidences of the use of contrivances for the reduction and formation of the female figure. researches among the ruins of polenqui, one of the mysterious forest cities of south america, whose history is lost in remote antiquity, have brought to light most singular evidences of the existence of a now forgotten race. amongst the works of art discovered there is a bas-relief representing a female figure, which, in addition to a profusion of massive ornaments, wears a complicated and elaborate waist-bandage, which, by a system of circular and transverse folding and looping, confines the waist from just below the ribs to the hips as firmly and compactly as the most unyielding corset of the present day. at the period of the discovery of some of the islands of the eastern archipelago, it was found customary for all young females to wear a peculiar kind of corset, formed of spirally-arranged rattan cane, and this, when once put on, was not removed until the celebration of the marriage ceremony. such races as were slowly advancing in the march of civilisation, after discovery by the early navigators, became more and more accustomed to the use of clothing, to adjust and retain which, waistbands would become essentially requisite. these, when made sufficiently broad to fit without undue friction, and stiff enough to prevent folding together in the act of stooping, sitting, or moving about, at once became in effect corsets, and suggested to the minds of the ingenious a system of cutting and fitting so as more perfectly to adapt them to the figure of the wearer. the modes of fastening, as we shall see, have been various, from the simple sewing together with the lace to the costly buckle and jewelled loop and stud. [illustration: the dawn of the corset.] investigation proves to us that the taste for slender waists prevailed even more in the eastern nations than in those of europe, and we find that other means besides that of compression have been extensively taken advantage of. humboldt, in his personal narrative, describes the women of java, and informs us that the reddish clay called "_ampo_" is eaten by them in order that they may become slim, want of plumpness being a kind of beauty in that country. though the use of this earth is fatal to health, those desirous of profiting by its reducing qualities persevere in its consumption. loss of appetite and inability to partake of more than most minute portions of food are not slow in bringing the wished-for consummation about. the inhabitants of ceylon make a perfect study of the training of the figure to the most slender proportions. books on the subject are common in that country, and no young lady is considered the perfection of fashionable elegance unless a great number of qualities and graces are possessed; not the least of these is a waist which can be quite or nearly clasped with the two hands; and, as we proceed with our work, it will be seen that this standard for the perfection of waist-measurement has been almost world-wide. from the coral-fringed and palm-decked islands of the pacific and indian ocean we have but to travel to the grass-clad yaila of crim tartary and the rock-crowned fastnesses of circassia, to see the same tastes prevailing, and even more potent means in force for the obtainment of a taper form. any remarks from us as to the beauty of the ladies of circassia would be needless, their claim to that enviable endowment being too well established to call for confirmation at our hands, and that no pains are spared in the formation of their figures will be best seen by a quotation from a recent traveller who writes on the subject:-- "what would" (he says) "our ladies think of this fashion on the part of the far-famed beauties of circassia? the women wear a corset made of 'morocco,' and furnished with two plates of wood placed on the chest, which, by their strong pressure, prevent the expansion of the chest; this corset also confines the bust from the collar-bones to the waist by means of a cord which passes through leather rings. they even wear it during the night, and only take it off when worn out, to put on another quite as small." he then speaks of the daughters of osman oglow, and says, "their figures were tightened in an extraordinary degree, and their _anteries_ were clasped from the throat downwards by silver plates." these plates are not only ornamental, but being firmly sewn to the two busks in front of the corset, and being longest at the top and narrowest at the waist, when clasped, as shown in the accompanying illustration, any change in fit or adjustment is rendered impossible. it will be seen on examination that at each side of the bottom of the corsage is a large round plate or boss of ornamental silver. these serve as clasps for the handsomely-mounted silver waist-belt, and by their size and position serve to contrast with the waist, and make it appear extremely small. that the elegancies of female attire have been deeply studied even among the tartars of the crimea will be seen by the following account, written by madame de hell, of her visit to princess adel beg, a celebrated tartar beauty:-- "admitted into a fairy apartment looking out on a terraced garden, a curtain was suddenly raised at the end of the room, and a woman of striking beauty entered, dressed in rich costume. she advanced to me with an air of remarkable dignity, took both my hands, kissed me on the two cheeks, and sat down beside me, making many demonstrations of friendship. she wore a great deal of rouge; her eyelids were painted black, and met over the nose, giving her countenance a certain sternness, which, nevertheless, did not destroy its pleasing effect. a furred velvet vest fitted tight to her still elegant figure, and altogether her appearance surpassed what i had conceived of her beauty. after some time, when i offered to go, she checked me with a very graceful gesture, and said eagerly, 'pastoi, pastoi,' which is russian for 'stay, stay,' and clapped her hands several times. a young girl entered at the signal, and by her mistress's orders threw open a folding-door, and immediately i was struck dumb with surprise and admiration by a most brilliant apparition. imagine, reader, the most exquisite sultanas of whom poetry and painting have ever tried to convey an idea, and still your conception will fall far short of the enchanting models i had then before me. there were three of them, all equally graceful and beautiful. they were clad in tunics of crimson brocade, adorned in front with broad gold lace. the tunics were open, and disclosed beneath them cashmere robes with very tight sleeves, terminating in gold fringes. the youngest wore a tunic of azure-blue brocade, with silver ornaments; this was the only difference between her dress and that of her sisters. all three had magnificent black hair escaping in countless tresses from a fez of silver filigree, set like a diadem over their ivory foreheads. they wore gold-embroidered slippers and wide trousers drawn close at the ankle. i had never beheld skins so dazzlingly fair, eyelashes so long, or so delicate a bloom of youth." [illustration: circassian lady.] [illustration: egyptian lady in full skirt.] the hindoos subject the figures of their dancing-girls and future belles to a system of very careful training; in all their statues, from those of remote antiquity, to be seen in the great cave temples of carlee elanra, and elephanta, to those of comparatively modern date, the long and slender waist is invariably associated with other attributes of their standard of beauty. "thurida," the daughter of brahama, is thus described by a hindoo writer:-- "this girl" (he informs us) "was of a yellow colour, and had a nose like the flower of resamum; her legs were taper, like the plantain tree; her eyes large, like the principal leaf of the lotus; her eyebrows extended to her ears; her lips were red, and like the young leaves of the mango tree; her face was like the full moon; her voice like the sound of the cuckoo; her arms reached to her knees; her throat was like that of a pigeon; her loins narrow, like those of a lion; her hair hung in curls down to her feet; her teeth were like the seeds of the pomegranate; and walk like that of a drunken elephant or a goose." the persians entertain much the same notions with regard to the necessity for slenderness of form in the belles of their nation, but differ in other matters from the hindoos. the following illustration represents a dancing-girl of persia, and it will be seen that her figure bears no indication of neglect of cultivation. it is somewhat curious that the chinese, with all their extraordinary ingenuity, have confined their restrictive efforts to the feet of the ladies, leaving their waists unconfined. that their doing so is more the result of long-established custom than absence of admiration for elegantly-proportioned figures will be clearly proved by the following extract from a letter published in _chambers' journal_, written by a genuine inhabitant of the celestial empire, named woo-tan-zhin, who paid a visit to england in - . thus he describes the ladies of england:-- "their eyes, having the blue tint of the waters of autumn, are charming beyond description, and their waists are laced as tight and thin as a willow branch. what, perhaps, caught my fancy most was the sight of elegantly-dressed young ladies, with pearl-like necks and tight-laced waists; nothing can possibly be so enchanting as to see ladies that compress themselves into taper forms of the most exquisite shape, the like of which i have never seen before." by many writers it has been urged that the admiration so generally felt for slenderly-proportioned and taper waists results from an artificial taste set up by long custom; but in woo-tan-zhin's case it was clearly not so, as the small-waisted young ladies of the "outer barbarians" were to him much as some new and undescribed flowers or birds would be to the wondering naturalist who first beheld them. although researches among the antiquities of egypt and thebes fail to bring to our notice an article of dress corresponding with the waist-bandage of polenqui or the strophium of later times, we find elaborately-ornamented waist-belts in general use, and by their arrangement it will be seen that they were so worn as to show the waist off to the best advantage. the accompanying illustrations represent egyptian ladies of distinction. the dress in the first, it will be observed, is worn long. a sort of transparent mantle covers and gives an appearance of width to the shoulders, whilst a coloured sash, after binding the waist, is knotted in front, and the ends allowed to fall freely over the front of the dress, much as we have seen it worn in our own time; and it is most remarkable that, although there is no evidence to show the use of crinoline by the ladies of old egypt, the lower border of the skirt, in some instances, appears distended as in the prior illustration; whilst in others, as shown in the second engraving, the dress is made to fit the lower portion of the figure closely, barely affording scope for the movement of the legs in walking. how often these arrangements of dress have been in turn adopted and discarded will be seen as our work proceeds. [illustration: persian dancing girl.] [illustration: egyptian lady in narrow skirt.] the following extract from fullam will show that fashion within the shadow of the pyramids, in the days of the pharaohs, reigned with power as potent and supreme as that which she exercises in the imperial palaces of paris and vienna at the present day:-- "the women of egypt early paid considerable attention to their toilet. their dress, according to herodotus, consisted usually of but one garment, though a second was often added. among the upper orders the favourite attire was a petticoat tied round the waist with a gay sash, and worn under a robe of fine linen or a sort of chintz variously coloured, and made large and loose, with wide sleeves, the band being fastened in front just under the bust. their feet were incased in sandals, the rudiment of the present eastern slipper, which they resembled also in their embroidery and design. their persons and apparel, in conformity with oriental taste in all ages, were profusely decked with ornaments, 'jewels of silver and jewels of gold,' with precious gems of extraordinary size, of which imitations, hardly distinguishable from the real stones, were within the reach of the humblest classes, whose passion for finery could not be surpassed by their superiors. the richly carved and embroidered sandals, tied over the instep with tassels of gold, were surmounted by gold anklets or bangles, which, as well as the bracelets encircling the wrist, sparkled with rare gems; and necklaces of gold or of beautiful beads, with a pendant of amethysts or pearls, hung from the neck. almost every finger was jewelled, and the ring finger in particular was usually allotted several rings, while massive earrings shaped like hoops, or sometimes taking the form of a jewelled asp or of a dragon, adorned the ears. gloves were used at a very early date, and among the other imperishable relics of that olden time the tombs of egypt have rendered up to us a pair of striped linen mittens, which once covered the hands of a theban lady. "women of quality inclosed their hair with a band of gold, from which a flower drooped over the forehead, while the hair fell in long plaits to the bosom, and behind streamed down the back to the waist. the side hair was secured by combs made of polished wood or by a gold pin, and perhaps was sometimes adorned, like the brow, with a favourite flower. the toilet was furnished with a brazen mirror, polished to such a degree as to reflect every lineament of the face, and the belles of egypt, as ladies of the present day may imagine, spent no small portion of their time with this faithful counsellor. the boudoirs were not devoid of an air of luxury and refinement particularly congenial to a modern imagination. a stand near the unglazed window supported vases of flowers, which filled the room with delicious odours; a soft carpet overspread the floor; two or three richly-carved chairs and an embroidered fauteuil afforded easy and inviting seats; and the lotus and papyrus were frescoed on the walls. besides the brazen mirror, other accessories of the toilet were arranged on the ebony table, and boxes and caskets grotesquely carved, some containing jewels, others furnished with oils and ointments, took their place with quaintly-cut smelling bottles, wooden combs, silver or bronze bodkins, and lastly, pins and needles. "seated at this shrine, the egyptian beauty, with her dark glance fixed on the brazen mirror, sought to heighten those charms which are always most potent in their native simplicity. a touch of collyrium gave illusive magnitude to her voluptuous eyes; another cosmetic stained their lids; a delicate brush pencilled her brows--sometimes, alas! imparted a deceitful bloom to her cheeks; and her taper fingers were coloured with the juice of henna. precious ointments were poured on her hair, and enveloped her in an atmosphere of perfume, while the jeweller's and milliner's arts combined to decorate her person." in sir gardner wilkinson's admirable work on ancient egypt, to which i am indebted for some valuable information, there is a plate representing a lady in a bath with her attendants, drawn from a sculpture in a tomb at thebes, whence we may derive some faint idea of the elaborate character of an egyptian toilet. the lady is seated in a sort of pan, with her long hair streaming over her shoulders, and is supported by the arm of an attendant, who, with her other hand, holds a flower to her nose, while another damsel pours water over her head, and a third washes and rubs down her delicate arms. a fourth maiden receives her jewels, and deposits them on a stand, where she awaits the moment when they will be again required. there appears little doubt that the ancient israelitish ladies, amongst their almost endless and most complex articles of adornment, numbered the corset in a tolerably efficient form, and of attractive and rich material, for we read in the twenty-fourth verse of the third chapter of isaiah, referring to divine displeasure manifested against the people of jerusalem and judah, and the taking away of matters of personal adornment from the women, that "instead of a girdle there should be a rent, and instead of well-set hair baldness, and instead of a stomacher a girding of sackcloth, and burning instead of beauty." here we have the coarse, repulsive, unattractive sackcloth held up in marked contrast to the stomacher, which was without question a garment on which much attention was bestowed; and the following extract from fullam's _history of woman_ shows how costly and magnificent was the costume of the period:-- "the bridal dress of a princess or jewish lady of rank, whose parents possessed sufficient means, was of the most sumptuous description, as may be seen from the account given of that worn by the bride of solomon in the canticles, and the various articles enumerated show the additions which feminine taste had already made to the toilet. the body was now clothed in a bodice ascending to the network which inclosed, rather than concealed, the swelling bust; and jewelled clasps and earrings, with strings of pearls and chains of gold, gave a dazzling effect to oriental beauty. in solomon's reign silk is said to have been added to the resources of the toilet, and the sex owe to a sister, pamphyla, the daughter of patous, the discovery of this exquisite material, in which woman wrested from nature a dress worthy of her charms. "the ordinary attire of jewish women was made of linen, usually white, without any intermixture of colours, though, in accordance with the injunction in numbers xv. , they made 'fringes in the borders of their garments,' and 'put upon the fringe of the borders a riband of blue.' judith, when she sought to captivate holofernes, 'put on her garments of gladness, wherewith she was clad during the life of manasses her husband; and she took sandals upon her feet, and put about her bracelets, and her chains, and her rings, and her earrings, and all her ornaments, and decked herself bravely to allure the eyes of all men that should see her.' gemmed bangles encircled her ankles, attracting the glance to her delicate white feet; and holofernes, by an oriental figure of speech, is said to have been 'ravished by the beauty of her sandals.' like the belles of egypt she did not disdain, in setting off her charms, to have recourse to perfumes and cosmetics, and previously to setting out she 'anointed herself with precious ointment.' in another place jezebel is said to 'paint her eyelids;' and solomon, in the proverbs, in describing the deceitful woman, adjures his son not to be 'taken with her eyelids,' evidently alluding to the use of collyrium. the jewish beauty owed no slight obligation to her luxuriant tresses, which were decorated with waving plumes and strings of pearls; and in allusion to this custom, followed among the tribes from time immemorial, st. paul affirms that 'a woman's ornament is her hair.' judith 'braided the hair of her head and put a tire upon it;' and the headdress of pharaoh's daughter, in the canticles, is compared by solomon to carmel. no mention is made of judith's mirror, but it was undoubtedly made of brass, like those described in exodus xxxviii. as 'the looking-glasses of the women which assembled at the door of the tabernacle of the congregation.'" [illustration] chapter ii. homer the first ethnic writer who speaks of an article of dress allied to the corset--the cestus or girdle of venus--terentius, the roman dramatist, and his remarks on the practice of tight-lacing--the use of the strophium by the ladies of rome, and the mitra of the grecian belles--the peplus as worn by the ancients--toilet of a roman lady of fashion--roman baths--fashionable promenades of ancient rome--boundless luxury and extravagance--cleopatra and her jewels--the taper waists and tight-lacing of the ancient roman ladies--conquest of the roman empire. amongst the ethnic writers, homer appears to be the first who describes an article of female dress closely allied to the corset. he tells us of the cestus or girdle of venus, mother of the loves and graces, and of the haughty juno, who was fabled to have borrowed it with a view to the heightening and increasing her personal attractions, in order that jupiter might become a more tractable and orderly husband. the poet attributes most potent magical virtues to the cestus, but these are doubtlessly used in a figurative sense, and juno, in borrowing the cestus, merely obtained from a lady of acknowledged elegance of figure a corset with which to set her own attractions off to the best possible advantage, so that her husband might be charmed with her improved appearance; and juno appears to have been a very far-seeing and sensible woman. from periods of very remote antiquity, and with the gradual increase of civilisation, much attention appears to have been paid to the formation and cultivation of the female figure, and much the same means were had recourse to for the achievement of the same end prior to b.c. as in the year . terentius, the roman dramatist, who was born in the year , causes one of his characters, in speaking of the object of his affections, to exclaim-- "this pretty creature isn't at all like our town ladies, whose mothers saddle their backs and straitlace their waists to make them well-shaped. if any chance to grow a little plumper than the rest, they presently cry, 'she's an hostess,' and then her allowance must be shortened, and though she be naturally fat and lusty, yet by her dieting she is made as slender as a broomstick. by this means one woodcock or another is caught in their springe." [illustration: lady of ancient greece.] strutt informs us that the roman women, married as well as unmarried, used girdles, and besides them they sometimes wore a broad swath or bandage round their breasts, called strophium, which seems to have answered the purpose of the bodice or stays, and had a buckle or bandage on the left shoulder, and that the mitra or girdle of the greeks probably resembled the strophium of the romans. the annexed illustration represents a lady of ancient greece. he also speaks of the muses as being described by hesiod as being girt with golden "_mitres_," and goes on to inform us that theocritus in one of his pastorals introduces a damsel complaining to a shepherd of his rudeness, saying he had loosened her mitra or girdle, and tells her he means to dedicate the same to venus. so it will be seen that the waist and its adornment were considered at that early period of the world's history matters of no ordinary importance, and whether the term strophium, zone, mitra, custula, stays, bodice, or corset is made use of, the end sought to be obtained by their aid was the same. constant mention is made by early writers of the _peplus_ as being a very elegant garment, and there are notices of it as back as the trojan war, and the ladies of troy appear to have generally worn it. on the authority of strutt, it may be stated to have been "a thin light mantle worn by grecian ladies above the tunic;" and we read that antinous presented to penelope a beautiful large and variegated peplus, having twelve buckles of gold, with tongues neatly curved. the peplus, however, was a very splendid part of the lady's dress, and it is rarely mentioned by homer without some epithet to distinguish it as such. he calls it the _variegated_ peplus and the painted peplus, alluding to ornamental decorations either interwoven or worked with the needle upon it, which consisted not only in diversity of colours, but of flowers, foliage, and other kinds of imagery, and sometimes he styles it the _soft purple peplus_, which was then valuable on account of the excellence of the colour. we learn from a variety of sources that the early roman and grecian ladies indulged in almost unprecedented luxury in matters of personal adornment, as the following extract from fullam will show:-- "the toilet of a roman lady involved an elaborate and very costly process. it commenced at night, when the face, supposed to have been tarnished by exposure, was overlaid with a poultice, composed of boiled or moistened flour spread on with the fingers. poppæan unguents sealed the lips, and the body was profusely rubbed with cerona ointment. in the morning the poultice and unguents were washed off; a bath of asses' milk imparted a delicate whiteness to the skin, and the pale face was freshened and revived with enamel. the full eyelids, which the roman lady still knows so well how to use--now suddenly raising them, to reveal a glance of surprise or of melting tenderness, now letting them drop like a veil over the lustrous eyes--the full, rounded eyelids were coloured within, and a needle dipped in jetty dye gave length and sphericity to the eyebrows. the forehead was encircled by a wreath or fillet fastened in the luxuriant hair which rose in front in a pyramidal pile formed of successive ranges of curls, and giving the appearance of more than ordinary height. "'so high she builds her head, she seems to be, view her in front, a tall andromache; but walk all round her, and you'll quickly find she's not so great a personage behind.' "roman ladies frequented the public baths, and it was not unusual for dames of the highest rank to resort to these lavatories in the dead hour of the night. seated in a palanquin or sedan borne by sturdy chairmen, and preceded by slaves bearing flambeaux, they made their way through the deserted streets, delighted to arouse and alarm their neighbours. a close chair conveyed the patrician matron to the spectacles and shows, to which she always repaired in great state, surrounded by her servants and slaves, the dependants of her husband, and the clients of her house, all wearing the badge of the particular faction she espoused. the factions of the circus were four in number, and were distinguished by their respective colours of blue, green, white, and red, to which domitian, who was a zealous patron of the circensian games, added the less popular hues of gold and purple. but the spectators generally attached themselves either to the blue or the green, and the latter was the chief favourite, numbering among its adherents emperors and empresses, senators, knights, and noble dames, as well as the great mass of the people, who, when their champions were defeated, carried their partisanship to such an extreme that the streets were repeatedly deluged with the blood of the blues, and more than once the safety of the state was imperilled by these disgraceful commotions. "the public walks and gardens were a fashionable resort of the roman ladies. there they presented themselves in rich costume, which bore testimony alike to the wealth of their husbands and their own taste. a yellow tire or hood partly covered, but did not conceal, their piled hair; their vest of muslin or sarcenet, clasped with gems, was draped with a murry-coloured robe descending to their high-heeled greek boots; necklaces of emerald hung from their swan-like necks, and jewelled earrings from their ears; diamonds glittered on their fingers, and their dazzling complexions were shielded from the sun by a parasol." the researches of strutt show us that the shoes of the ladies, and especially among the romans, proved a very expensive part of the dress. in general they were white, but persons of opulence did not confine themselves to any colour. we find them black, scarlet, purple, yellow, and green. they were often not only richly adorned with fringes and embroideries of gold, but set with pearls and precious stones of the most costly kind, and these extravagances were not confined to persons of rank. they were imitated by those of lower station, and became so prevalent at the commencement of the third century, that even the luxurious emperor heliogabalus thought it necessary to publish an edict prohibiting the use of such expensive shoes excepting to women of quality. the women wore the close shoe or _calceus_. gloves, too, as we have seen before, were known and used in very early ages, and it appears probable that they were first devised by those whose labours called them to the thick-tangled thorn coverts, but that they were worn by those who did not labour is clearly proved by homer, who describes the father of ulysses when living in a state of rest as wearing gloves; but he gives us no information as to the material from which they were manufactured. the romans appear to have been much more addicted to the practice of wearing gloves than the greeks, and we are informed that "under the emperors they were made with fringes," though others were without them, and were fashioned much after the manner of the mittens of the present day. further on we learn that "as riches and luxury increased, the lady's toilet was proportionately filled with ornaments for the person, so that it was called '_the woman's world_.'" they not only anointed the hair and used rich perfumes, but sometimes they _painted it_. they also made it appear of a bright yellow colour by the assistance of washes and compositions made for that purpose; but they never used powder, which is a much later invention. they frizzled and curled the hair with hot irons, and sometimes they raised it to a great height by rows of curls one above another in the form of a helmet, and such as had not sufficient hair of their own used false hair to complete the lofty pile, and these curls appear to have been fashioned with hairpins. the grecian virgins used to braid their hair in a multiplicity of knots, but that custom, as well as painting the under part of the eyelids with black paint, was discommended by an ancient poet. persons of rank had slaves to perform for them the offices of the toilet. they held the mirror in their hand themselves and gave directions, and martial tells us that, if the slaves unfortunately placed a hairpin wrong, or omitted to twist the curls exactly as they were ordered, the mirror was thrown at the offender's head, or, according to juvenal, the whip was applied with much severity. the hair was adorned with ornaments of gold, with pearls and precious stones, and sometimes with garlands or chaplets of flowers. it was also bound with fillets and ribbons of various colours and kinds. the net or hair-caul for the purpose of inclosing the hinder part of the hair was in general use with the grecian and roman ladies. these ornaments were frequently enriched with embroidery, and sometimes made so thin that martial sarcastically called them "_bladders_." again, in the matter of _earrings_, we quote from the same valuable and trustworthy authority. no adornment of the head claims priority to earrings. they have been fashionable, as montfaucon justly observes, in all ages and almost all nations. it is evident from homer that the grecian women bored their ears for the admission of these ornaments. the poet gives earrings to the goddess juno, and the words he uses on the occasion are literally these:--"in her well-perforated ears she put the earrings of elaborate workmanship, having three eyes in each"--that is, three pendants or jewels, either made in the form of eyes, or so called from their brightness. the extravagance of the grecian and roman ladies in the purchase of these articles of adornment almost exceeds belief. pliny says, "they seek for pearls at the bottom of the red sea, and search the bowels of the earth for emeralds to ornament their ears;" and seneca tells us that "a single pair of earrings was worth the revenue of a large estate, and that some women would wear at their ears the price of two or three patrimonies." we read that the earrings worn by cleopatra were valued at £ , , and that servilia, the mother of brutus, was presented with a pair by julius cæsar, the value of which was £ , . bracelets are also ornaments of high antiquity, as are rings and brooches of various forms for fastening the dress. rich gold chains and jewelled fastenings were in common use during this period. the annexed illustration represents a roman lady of rank about the reign of heliogabalus. little alteration appears to have taken place in the general style of costume for some very considerable period of time, and the patrician ladies concealed beneath their flowing draperies a kind of corset, which they tightened very considerably, for a slight and tapering waist was looked upon as a great beauty in women, and great attention was paid to the formation of the figure, in spite of all that has been written about the purely natural and statuesque forms of the roman matrons. on the conquest of the roman empire by the wild and savage hunnish tribes, fashion, art, taste, literature, and civilisation were swept ruthlessly away, and a long, weird night of mental darkness may be said to have reigned throughout the land from the tenth to the middle of the fifteenth century, and we see little or nothing of roman elegance or magnificence of dress to distinguish it above other nations from that period. [illustration] [illustration: roman lady of rank (reign of heliogabalus).] chapter iii. the ladies of old france--their fashions during the reign of king pepin--revival of the taste for small waists--introduction of "_cottes hardies_"--monkish satire on the corset in england in the year , curious ms. relating to--the small waists of the thirteenth century--the ancient poem of _launfal_--the lady triamore, daughter of the king of the fairies--curious entry in the household register of eleanor, countess of leicester, date --corsets worn by gentlemen at that period--the kirtle as worn in england--the penance of jane shore--dress of blanche, daughter of edward iii--dunbar's _thistle and rose_--admiration for small waists in scotland in the olden time--chaucer's writings--small waists admired in his day--the use of the surcoat in england--reckless hardihood of a determined tailor--the surcoat worn by marie d'anjou of france--italian supremacy in matters of dress--the medici, este, and visconti--costume of an italian duchess described--freaks of fashion in france and germany--long trains--laws to restrain the length of skirts--snake-toed shoes give place to high-heeled slippers. research fails to show us that the ladies of france in their simple hersvingian and carlovingian dresses paid any attention to the formation of the waist or its display. but during the ninth century we find the dresses worn extremely tight, and so made as to define the waist and render it as slim as possible; and although the art of making the description of corsets worn by the ladies of rome was no doubt at that time lost, the revived taste for slender figures led to the peculiar form of corsage known as _cottes hardies_, which were much stiffened and worn extremely tight. these took the place of the quaint, oddly-formed robes we see draping the figures of childeric's and pepin's queens. the "_cottes hardies_" were, moreover, clasped at the waist by a broad belt, and seem pretty well to have merited their martial name. very soon after this period it is probable that a much more complete description of corset was invented, although we do not find any marked representation of its form until . a manuscript of that date at present in the british museum bears on it the strange and anomalous figure represented in the annexed illustration. opinions vary somewhat as to whether its origin might not have been italian, but we see no reason for adopting this view, and consider it as of decidedly home production. it will be seen that the shoulder, upper part of the arm, and figure are those of a well-formed female, who wears an unmistakable corset, tightly laced, and stiffened by two busks in front, from one of which the lace, with a tag at the end, depends. the head, wings, tail, feet, and claws are all those of a demon or fiend. the drapery is worn so long as to render large knots in it requisite to prevent dragging on the ground. the ring held in the left claw is of gold, and probably intended to represent a massive and costly bracelet. produced, as this ms. appears to have been, during the reign of edward the confessor, there is little doubt that it was a severe monkish satire on the prevailing fashion, and a most ungallant warning to the male sex that alabaster shoulders and slender waists were too often associated with attributes of a rather brimstone character, and that an inordinate love of long, trailing garments and ornaments of precious metals were snares and enticements of a sinister nature. many of the figures to be found on ancient mss. after this period show by their contour that the corset was worn beneath the drapery, and strutt, whose work was published in , thus writes of the customs relating to dress in the period following shortly after:--"in the thirteenth century, and probably much prior to that period, a long and slender waist was considered by our ancestors as a criterion of elegance in the female form. we ought not, therefore, to wonder if it be proved that the tight lacing and compressing of the body was practised by the ladies even in early times, and especially by such of them as were inclined to be corpulent." he then, in order to show at what an early date of the history of this country a confirmed taste for small waists existed, quotes from a very ancient poem, entitled _launfal_, in which the lady triamore, daughter of the king of the fairies, and attendant ladies are described. of two of the latter it is said-- "their kirtles were of rede cendel,[ ] i laced smalle, jollyf, and well, there might none gayer go." [ ] a rich description of silk. [illustration: the fiend of fashion, from an ancient manuscript.] in the french version of the same poem it is, we read, more fully expressed. it says, "they were richly habited and very tightly laced." the lady triamore is thus described:-- "the lady was in a purple pall, with gentill bodye and middle small." wharton quotes from an ancient poem, which he believes to date as far back as , in which a lover, speaking of the object of his admiration, thus throws down the gauntlet of challenge, and exclaims-- "middle her she hath mensk small." the word _mensk_ or _maint_ being used instead of very or much. some differences of opinion have existed among writers as to the origin of the word _corset_. some are of opinion that the french words _corps_, the body, and _serrer_ (to tightly inclose or incase), led to the adoption of the term. madame la sante gives it as her opinion, however, that it is more probably a corruption of the single word _corps_, which was formerly written _cors_, and may be taken as a diminutive form of it. another view of the matter has been that the name of a rich material called _corse_, which was at one time extensively used in the manufacture of corsets, may have been thus corrupted. this is scarcely probable, as the word corset was in use at too early a period to admit of that origin. perhaps as early an instance of the use of the term corset as any in existence may be found as a portion of an entry in the household register of eleanor, countess of leicester, which bears the date may , :-- "item: pro ix ulnis radii. pariensis pro robas æstivas corsetto et clochia pro eodem."[ ] [ ] item: for nine ells, paris measure, for summer robes, corsets, and cloaks for the same. the persons for whom these garments were made were richard, king of the normans, and edward, his son, whose death occurred in the year . so that corsets were, even in those early days, used by gentlemen as well as ladies. the term kirtle, so often referred to, may not clearly convey to the mind of the modern reader the nature of the garment indicated by it, and therefore it may not be amiss to give strutt's description of it. he says, "the kirtle, or, as it was anciently written '_kertel_,' is a part of the dress used by the men and the women, but especially by the latter. it was sometimes a habit of state, and worn by persons of high rank." the garment sometimes called a "_surcol_" chaucer renders _kirtle_, and we have no reason to dispute his authority. kirtles are very frequently mentioned in old romances. they are said to have been of different textures and of different colours, but especially of green; and sometimes they were laced closely to the body, and probably answered the purpose of the bodice or stays--_vide launfal_, before referred to:-- "their kirtles were of rede cendel, i laced smalle, jollyf, and well." to appear in a kirtle only seems to have been a mark of servitude. thus the lady of sir ladore, when he feasted the king, by way of courtesy waited at the table-- "the lady was gentyll and small, in kirtle alone she served in hall." we are further informed that at the close of the fifteenth century it was used as a habit of penance, and we read that jane shore, when performing penance, walked barefoot, a lighted taper in her hand, and having only her kirtle upon her back. john gower, however, who wrote at about the same period as chaucer, thus describes a company of ladies. they were, says he, "clothed all alike, in kirtles with rich capes or mantles, parti-coloured, white, and blue, embroidered all over with various devices." their bodies are described as being long and small, and they had crowns of gold upon their heads, as though each of them had been a queen. we find that the tight-laced young ladies of the court of the lady triamore "had mantles of green-coloured velvet, handsomely bordered with gold, and lined with rich furs. their heads were neatly attired in kerchiefs, and were ornamented with cut work and richly-striped wires of gold, and upon their kerchiefs they had each of them a pretty coronal, embellished with sixty gems or more;" and of their pretty mistress it is said in the same poem, that her cheeks were as red as the rose when it first blossoms. her hair shone upon her head like golden wire, falling beneath a crown of gold richly ornamented with precious stones. her vesture was purple, and her mantle, lined with white ermine, was also elegantly furred with the same. the princess blanche, the daughter of edward iii., the subject of the annexed illustration, appears to have copied closely the dress above described, and, like the maids of honour of the lady triamore herself, she is not only richly habited but thoroughly well-laced as well. thus we see, in the year , the full influence of the corset on the costume of that period. there is another poem, said to be more ancient than even _launfal_, which, no doubt, served to give a tone and direction to the fashions of times following after. here we find a beautiful lady described as wearing a splendid girdle of beaten gold, embellished with rubies and emeralds, about her _middle small_. [illustration: the princess blanche, daughter of edward iii.] gower, too, when describing a lover who is in the act of admiring his mistress, thus writes:-- "he seeth hir shape forthwith, all hir bodye round, hir middle small." that the taste for slender figures was not confined to england will be shown by the following quotation from dunbar's _thistle and rose_. when the belles of scotland grouped together are described he tells us that "their middles were as small as wands." a great number of ancient writings descriptive of female beauty go clearly to prove that both slenderness and length of waist were held in the highest esteem and considered indispensable elements of elegance, and there can be no question that such being the case no pains were spared to acquire the coveted grace a very small, long, and round waist conferred on its possessor. the lower classes were not slow in imitating their superiors, and the practice of tight lacing prevailed throughout every grade of society. this was the case even as far back as chaucer's day, about . he, in describing the carpenter's wife, speaks of her as a handsome, well-made young female, and informs us that "her body was genteel" (or elegant) and "small as a weasel," and immediately afterwards that she was "long as a maste, and upright as a bolt." notwithstanding the strict way in which the waist was laced during the thirteenth century, the talents of the ingenious were directed to the construction of some article of dress which should reduce the figure to still more slender proportions, and the following remarks by strutt show that tight lacing was much on the increase from the thirteenth to the fourteenth centuries. he says-- "a small waist was decidedly, as we have seen before, one criterion of a beautiful form, and, generally speaking, its length was currently regulated by a just idea of elegance, and especially in the thirteenth century. in the fourteenth the women seem to have contracted a vitiated taste, and not being content with their form as god hath made it, introduced the corset or bodice--a stiff and unnatural disguisement even in its origin." [illustration: lady of rank of the thirteenth century.] how far this newly-introduced form of the corset became a "disguisement" will be best judged of by a glance at the foregoing illustration, which represents a lady in the dress worn just at the close of the thirteenth century. the term _surcoat_ was given to this new introduction. this in many instances was worn over the dress somewhat after the manner of the body of a riding-habit, being attached to the skirt, which spreads into a long trailing train. an old author, speaking of these articles of dress, thus writes:-- "there came to me two women wearing _surcoats_, longer than they were tall by about a yard, so that they were obliged to carry their trains upon their arms to prevent their trailing upon the ground, and they had sleeves to these surcoats reaching to the elbows." the trains of these dresses at length reached such formidable dimensions that charles v. of france became so enraged as to cause an edict to be issued hurling threats of excommunication at the heads of all those who dared to wear a dress which terminated "like the tail of a serpent." notwithstanding this tremendously alarming threat, a tailor was found fully equal to the occasion, who, in spite of the terrors inspired by candle, bell, and book, set to work (lion-hearted man that he was) and made a magnificent surcoat for madame du gatinais, which not only trailed far behind on the ground, but actually "took _five yards of brussels net for sleeves, which also trailed_." history, or even tradition, fails to inform us what dreadful fate overtook this desperate tailor after the performance of a feat so recklessly daring; but we can scarcely fancy that his end could have been of the kind common to tailors of less audacious depravity. the bodies of these surcoats were very much stiffened, and so made as to admit of being laced with extreme tightness. they were often very richly ornamented with furs and costly needlework. as fashion changed, dresses were made with open fronts, so as to be worn over the surcoat without altogether concealing it. a portrait of marie d'anjou, queen of france, shows this arrangement of costume. the waist appears very tightly laced, and the body of the surcoat much resembles the modern bodice, but is made by stiffening and cut to perform the part of a very strong and efficient corset. until the termination of the fourteenth century very little change appears to have been made either in costume or the treatment of the figure, but at the commencement of the fifteenth century, when such noble families as the medici, este, and visconti established fashions and styles of costume for themselves, each house vied with the other in the splendour of their apparel. the great masters of the period, by painting ideal compositions, also gave a marked tone to the increasing taste for dress. the costume of an italian duchess, whose portrait is to be seen in the academy at pisa, has been thus described:--"the headdress is a gold coronet, the chemisette is finely interwoven with gold, the under-dress is black, the square bodice being bordered with white beads, the over-dress is gold brocade, the sides are open, and fastened together again with gold _agrafes_; the loose sleeves, like the chemisette, are of golden tissue, fastened to the shoulders with _agrafes_. the under-sleeves, which are of peculiar construction, and are visible, are crimson velvet, and reach to the centre of the hand. they are cut out at the wrists, and white puffings of the same material as the chemisette protrude through the openings." in both france and germany a great many strange freaks of fashion appear to have been practised about this time. the tight, harlequin-like dress was adopted by the gentlemen, whilst the long trains again stirred the ire of royalty. we find albert of saxony issuing the following laws:--"no wives or daughters of knights are to wear dresses exceeding one yard and a-half in length, no spangles in their caps, nor high frills round their throats." during the reign of the dauphin in france many changes in dress were effected. the length of the sleeves was much curtailed, and the preposterously long toes of the shoes reduced to a convenient standard. the ladies appear to have for some time resisted the innovation, but one poulaine, an ingenious parisian shoemaker, happening to devise a very attractive shoe with a heel fitted to it, the ladies hailed joyfully the new favourite, and the old snake-toed shoe passed away. still, it was no uncommon thing to see some fop of the period with one shoe white and the other black, or one boot and one shoe. [illustration: lady of the court of queen catherine de medici.] [illustration: full court dress as worn in france, .] [illustration] chapter iv. the _bonnet à canon_ and sugarloaf headdress--headdress of the women of normandy at the present day--odd dress of king louis xi.--return of charles viii. from naples--a golden time for tailors and milliners--general change of fashion--costumes of the time of francis i. of france and maximilian of germany--general use of pins in france and england--masks worn in france--establishment of the empire of fashion in france--the puffed or _bouffant_ sleeves of the reign of henry ii.--the bernaise dress--costume of the unfortunate marie stuart--rich dresses and long slender waists of the period--the tight-lacing of henry iii. of france--the emperor joseph of austria, his edict forbidding the use of stays, and how the ladies regarded it--queen catherine de medici and queen elizabeth of england--the severe form of corsets worn in both france and england--the _corps_--steel corset covers of the period--royal standard of fashionable slenderness--the lawn ruffs of queen bess--the art of starching--voluminous nether-garments worn by the gentlemen of the period--fashions of the ladies of venice--philip stubs on the ruff--queen elizabeth's collection of false hair--stubs furious at the fashions of ladies--king james and his fondness for dress and fashion--restrictions and sumptuary laws regarding dress--side-arms of the period. from about to some time afterwards headdresses of most singular form of construction were in general wear in fashionable circles. one of these, the _bonnet à canon_, was introduced by isabel of bavaria. the "_sugarloaf_" headdress was also in high esteem, and considered especially becoming and attractive. the accompanying illustration faithfully represents both of these. the latter in a modified form is still worn by the women of normandy. throughout the reign of louis xi. dress continued to be most sumptuous in its character. velvet was profusely worn, with costly precious stones encircling the trimmings. sumptuary laws were issued right and left, with a view to the correction of so much extravagance, whilst the king himself wore a battered, shabby old felt cap, with a bordering of leaden figures of the virgin mary round it. the rest of his attire was plain and simple to a degree. [illustration: ladies of fashion in the costume of .] [illustration: norman headdress of the present day.] next we see his successor, charles viii., returning as a conqueror from naples, dressed in the first style of italian fashion. then came a period of intense activity on the part of milliners and tailors, and a short time sufficed to completely metamorphose the reigning belles of the nation. smaller, much more becoming and coquettish headdresses were introduced, and a general change of style brought about. germany participated in the same sudden change of fashion, which lasted until the reign of francis i. accompanying illustrations represent a lady of the court of maximilian i. of germany, and a lady of the court of francis i. of france. during his reign pins came into general use both in france and england, although their use had been known to the most ancient races, numerous specimens having been discovered in the excavations of thebes and other old world cities. ladies' masks or visors were also introduced in france at this period, but they did not become general in england until the reign of queen elizabeth. it was about this time that france commenced the establishment of her own fashions and invented for herself, and that the ladies of that nation became celebrated for the taste and elegance of their raiment. on henry ii. succeeding charles this taste was steadily on the increase. the _bouffant_, or puffed form of sleeve, was introduced, and a very pretty and becoming style of headdress known as the _bernaise_. the illustration shows a lady wearing this, the feather being a mark of distinction. the dress is made of rich brocade, and the waist exceedingly long (period, .) the right-hand figure represents the unfortunate marie stuart arrayed in a court dress of the period, . on the head is a gold coronet; her under-dress is gold brocade, with gold arabesque work over it; the over-dress is velvet, trimmed with ermine; the girdle consisted of costly strings of pearls; the sleeves are of gold-coloured silk, and the puffings are separated from each other by an arrangement of precious stones; the front of the dress is also profusely ornamented in the same manner; the frill or ruff was made from costly lace from venice or genoa, and was invented by this very charming but unfortunate lady; the form of the waist is, as will be seen on reference to this illustration, long, and shows by its contour the full influence of the tightly-laced corset beneath the dress, which fits the figure with extraordinary accuracy. at this time fashion held such despotic sway throughout the continent of europe, that the emperor joseph of austria, following out his extraordinary penchant for the passing of edicts, and becoming alarmed at the formidable lures laid out for the capture of mankind by the fair sex, passed a law rigorously forbidding the use of the corset in all nunneries and places where young females were educated; and no less a threat than that of excommunication, and the loss of all the indulgences the church was capable of affording, hung over the heads of all those evil-disposed damsels who persisted in a treasonable manner in the practice of confining their waists with such evil instruments as stays. royal command, like an electric shock, startled the college of physicians into activity and zeal, and learned dissertations on the crying sin of tight lacing were scattered broadcast amongst the ranks of the benighted and tight-laced ladies of the time, much as the advertisements of cheap furnishing ironmongers are hurled into the west-end omnibuses of our own day. it is proverbial that gratuitous advice is rarely followed by the recipient. open defiance was in a very short time bid to the edicts of the emperor and the erudite dissertations of the doctors. the corsets were, if possible, laced tighter than ever, and without anything very particular happening to the world at large in consequence. [illustration: lady of the court of charles viii., .] [illustration: lady of the court of maximilian of germany and francis of france.] [illustration: corset-cover of steel worn in the time of catherine de medici.] [illustration: corset-cover of steel worn in the reign of queen elizabeth (open).] [illustration: the bernaise headdress, and costume of marie stuart.] on queen catherine de medici, who, it will be seen, was a contemporary of queen elizabeth of england, assuming the position of power which she so long maintained at the court of france, costume and fashion became her study, and at no period of the world's history were its laws more tremendously exacting, and the ladies of her court, as well as those in distinguished circles, were compelled to obey them. with her a thick waist was an abomination, and extraordinary tenuity was insisted on, thirteen inches waist measure being the standard of fashionable elegance, and in order that this extreme slenderness might be arrived at she herself invented or introduced an extremely severe and powerful form of the corset, known as the _corps_. it is thus described by a talented french writer:--"this formidable corset was hardened and stiffened in every imaginable way; it descended in a long hard point, and rose stiff and tight to the throat, making the wearers look as if they were imprisoned in a closely-fitting fortress." and in this rigid contrivance the form of the fair wearer was incased, when a system of gradual and determined constriction was followed out until the waist arrived at the required degree of slenderness, as shown in the annexed illustration. several writers have mentioned the "_steel corsets_" of this period, and assumed that they were used for the purpose of forcibly reducing the size of the waist. in this opinion they were incorrect, as the steel framework in question was simply used to wear over the corset after the waist had been reduced by lacing to the required standard, in order that the dress over it might fit with inflexible and unerring exactness, and that not even a fold might be seen in the faultless stomacher then worn. these corsets (or, more correctly, corset-covers) were constructed of very thin steel plate, which was cut out and wrought into a species of open-work pattern, with a view to giving lightness to them. numbers of holes were drilled through the flat surfaces between the hollows of the pattern, through which the needle and thread were passed in covering them accurately with velvet, silk, or other rich materials. during the reign of queen catherine de medici, to whom is attributed the invention of these contrivances, they became great favourites, and were much worn, not only at her court, but throughout the greater part of the continent. they were made in two pieces, opened longitudinally by hinges, and were secured when closed by a sort of _hasp and pin_, much like an ordinary box fastening. at both the front and back of the corsage a long rod or bar of steel projected in a curved direction downwards, and on these bars mainly depended the adjustment of the long peaked body of the dress, and the set of the skirt behind. the illustration at page gives a view of one of those ancient dress-improvers. [illustration: corset-cover of steel worn in the reign of queen elizabeth (closed).] [illustration: henry iii. of france and the princess margaret of lorraine.] [illustration: lady of the court of queen elizabeth.] the votaries of fashion of queen elizabeth's court were not slow in imitating in a rough manner the new continental invention, and the illustrations at pages and , taken from photographs, will show that, although not precisely alike, the steel corset-covers of england were much in principle like those of france, and the accompanying illustration represents a court lady in one of them. we have no evidence, however, that their use ever became very general in this country, and we find a most powerful and unyielding form of the corset constructed of very stout materials and closely ribbed with whalebone superseding them. this was the _corps_ before mentioned, and its use was by no means confined to the ladies of the time, for we find the gentlemen laced in garments of this kind to no ordinary degree of tightness. that this custom prevailed for some very considerable time will be shown by the accompanying illustration, which represents queen catherine's son, henry iii. (who was much addicted to the practice of tight lacing), and the princess margaret of lorraine, who was just the style of figure to please his taste, which was ladylike in the extreme. eardrops in his ears, delicate kid gloves on his hands; hair dyed to the fashionable tint, brushed back under a coquettish little velvet cap, in which waved a white ostrich's feather; hips bolstered and padded out, waist laced in the very tightest and most unyielding of corsets, and feet incased in embroidered satin shoes, henry was a true son of his fashionable mother, only lacking her strong will and powerful understanding. england under elizabeth's reign followed close on the heels of france in the prevailing style of dress. from about the middle of her reign the upper classes of both sexes carried out the custom of tight lacing to an extreme which knew scarcely any bounds. the corsets were so thickly quilted with whalebone, so long and rigid when laced to the figure, that the long pointed stomachers then worn fitted faultlessly well, without a wrinkle, just as did the dresses of the french court over the steel framework before described. the following lines by an old author will give some idea of their unbending character:-- "these privie coats, by art made strong, with bones, with paste, with such-like ware, whereby their back and sides grow long, and now they harnest gallants are; were they for use against the foe our dames for amazons might go." on examining the accompanying illustration representing a lady of the court of queen elizabeth, it will be observed that the farthingale, or verdingale, as it is sometimes written, and from which the modern crinoline petticoat is borrowed, serves to give the hips extraordinary width, which, coupled with the frill round the bottom of the stomacher, gave the waist the appearance of remarkable slenderness as well as length. the great size of the frills or ruffs also lent their aid in producing the same effect. it was in the reign of elizabeth that the wearing of lawn and cambric commenced in this country; previously even royal personages had been contented with fine holland as a material for their ruffs. when queen bess had her first lawn ruffs there was no one in england who could starch them, and she procured some dutch women to perform the operation. it is said that her first starcher was the wife of her coachman, guillan. some years later one mistress dinghen vauden plasse, the wife of a flemish knight, established herself in london as a professed starcher. she also gave lessons in the art, and many ladies sent their daughters and kinswomen to learn of her. her terms were five pounds for the starching and twenty shillings additional for learning to "seeth" the starch. saffron was used with it to impart to it a yellow colour which was much admired. the gentlemen of the period indulged in nether garments so puffed out and voluminous that the legislature was compelled to take the matter in hand. we read of "a man who, having been brought before the judges for infringing the law made against these extensive articles of clothing, pleaded the convenience of his pockets as an excuse for his misdemeanour. they appeared, indeed, to have answered to him the purposes both of wardrobe and linen cupboard, for from their ample recesses he drew forth the following articles--viz., a pair of sheets, two tablecloths, ten napkins, four shirts, a brush, a glass, a comb, besides nightcaps and other useful things; his defence being--'your worship may understand that because i have no safer storehouse these pockets do serve me for a roome to lay up my goodes in; and though it be a strait prison, yet it is big enough for them.'" his discharge was granted, and his clever defence well laughed at. [illustration: a venetian lady of fashion, .] [illustration: queen elizabeth.] the venetian ladies appear to have been fully aware of the reducing effect of frills and ruffs on the apparent size of waist of the wearer, and they were, as the annexed illustration will show, worn of extraordinary dimensions; but the front of the figure was, of course, only displayed, and on this all the decoration and ornamentation that extravagant taste could lavish was bestowed. the elizabethan ruff, large as it was, bore no comparison with this, and was worn as shown in the accompanying portrait of the "virgin queen," who indulged in numerous artifices for heightening her personal attractions. the ruffs and frills of the period so excited the ire of philip stubs, a citizen of london, that in his work, dated , he thus launches out against them in the quaint language of the time:-- "the women there vse great ruffes and neckerchers of holland, laune, cameruke, and such clothe as the greatest threed shall not be so big as the least haire that is, and lest they should fall downe they are smeared and starched in the devil's liquor, i mean starche; after that dried with great diligence, streaked, patted, and rubbed very nicely, and so applied to their goodly necks, and withal vnderpropped with supportasses (as i told you before), the stately arches of pride; beyond all this they have a further fetche, nothing inferiour to the rest, as namely--three or four degrees of minor ruffes placed _gradation_, one beneath another, and al under the mayster deuilruffe. the skirtes, then, of these great ruffes are long and wide, every way pleated and crested full curiously, god wot! then, last of all, they are either clogged with gold, silver, or silk lace of stately price, wrought all over with needleworke, speckeled and sparkeled here and there with the sunne, the mone, the starres, and many other antiques strange to beholde. some are wrought with open worke downe to the midst of the ruffe, and further, some with close worke, some wyth purled lace so cloied, and other gewgaws so pestered, as the ruffe is the least parte of itselfe. sometimes they are pinned upp to their eares, sometimes they are suffered to hange over theyr shoulders, like windemill sailes fluttering in the winde; and thus every one pleaseth her selfe in her foolish devises." in the matter of false hair her majesty queen elizabeth was a perfect connoisseur, having, so it is said, eighty changes of various kinds always on hand. the fashionable ladies, too, turned their attention to artificial adornment of that kind with no ordinary energy, and poor old stubs appears almost beside himself with indignation on the subject, and thus writes about it:--"the hair must of force be curled, frisled, and crisped, laid out in wreaths and borders from one ear to another. and, lest it should fall down, it is underpropped with forks, wires, and i cannot tell what, rather like grim, stern monsters than chaste christian matrons. at their hair thus wreathed and crested are hanged bugles, ouches, rings, gold and silver glasses, and such like childish gewgaws." the fashion of painting the face also calls down his furious condemnation, and the dresses come in for a fair share of his vituperation, and their length is evidently a source of excessive exasperation. we give his opinions in his own odd, scolding words:-- "their gownes be no less famous than the rest, for some are of silke, some velvet, some of grograine, some of taffatie, some of scarlet, and some of fine cloth of x., xx., or xl. shillings a yarde. but if the whole gowne be not silke or velvet, then the same shall be layd with lace two or three fingers broade all over the gowne, or els the most parte, or if not so (as lace is not fine enough sometimes), then it must bee garded with great gardes of velvet, every yard fower or sixe fingers broad at the least, and edged with costly lace, and as these gownes be of divers and sundry colours, so are they of divers fashions--chaunging with the moone--for some be of new fashion, some of the olde, some of thys fashion, and some of that; some with sleeves hanging downe to their skirtes, trailing on the ground, and cast over their shoulders like cows' tailes; some have sleeves muche shorter, cut vp the arme and poincted with silke ribbons, very gallantly tied with true love's knottes (for so they call them); some have capes reachyng downe to the midest of their backes, faced with velvet, or els with some wrought silke taffatie at the least, and fringed about very bravely (and to shut vp all in a worde), some are peerled and rinsled downe the backe wonderfully, with more knackes than i can declare. then have they petticoates of the beste clothe that can be bought, and of the fayrest dye that can be made. and sometimes they are not of clothe neither, for that is thought too base, but of scarlet grograine, taffatie, silke, and such like, fringed about the skirtes with silke fringe of chaungeable colour, but whiche is more vayne, of whatsoever their petticoates be yet must they have kirtles (for so they call them), either of silke, velvett, grogaraine, taffatie, satten, or scarlet, bordered with gardes, lace, fringe, and i cannot tell what besides." history fails to enlighten us as to whether the irascible stubs was blessed with a stylish wife and a large family of fashionable daughters, but we rather incline to the belief that he must have been a confirmed old bachelor, as we cannot find that he was ever placed in a lunatic asylum, a fate which would inevitably have befallen him if the fashions of the time had been brought within the sphere of his own dwelling. it is somewhat singular that, writing, as he did, in the most violent manner against almost every article of personal adornment, and every artifice of fashionable life, the then universal and extreme use of the corset should have escaped censure at his hands. king james, who succeeded elizabeth, manifested an inordinate fondness for dress. we read that--"not only his courtiers, but all the youthful portion of his subjects, were infected in a like manner, and the attire of a fashionable gentleman in those days could scarcely have been exceeded in fantastic device and profuse decoration. the hair was long and flowing, falling upon the shoulders; the hat, made of silk, velvet, or beaver (the latter being most esteemed), was high-crowned, narrow-brimmed, and steeple-shaped. it was occasionally covered with gold and silver embroidery, a lofty plume of feathers, and a hatband sparkling with gems being frequently worn with it. it was customary to dye the beard of various colours, according to the fancy of the wearer, and its shape also differed with his profession. the most effeminate fashion at this time was that of wearing jewelled rings in the ears, which was common among the upper and middle ranks. gems were also suspended to ribbons round the neck, while the long 'lovelock' of hair so carefully cherished under the left ear was adorned with roses of ribbons, and even real flowers. the ruff had already been reduced by order of queen elizabeth, who enacted that when reaching beyond 'a nayle of a yeard in depth' it should be clipped. in the early part of her reign the doublet and hose had attained a preposterous size, especially the nether garments, which were stuffed and bolstered with wool and hair to such an extent that strutt tells us, on the authority of one of the harleian manuscripts, that a scaffold was erected round the interior of the parliament house for the accommodation of such members as wore them! this was taken down in the eighth year of elizabeth's reign, when this ridiculous fashion was laid aside. the doublet was afterwards reduced in size, but still so hard-quilted that the wearer could not stoop to the ground, and was incased as in a coat of mail. in shape it was like a waistcoat, with a large cape, and either close or very wide sleeves. these latter were termed _danish_. a cloak of the richest materials, embroidered in gold or silver, and faced with foxskin, lambskin, or sable, was buttoned over the left shoulder. none, however, under the rank of an earl were permitted to indulge in sable facings. the hose were either of woven silk, velvet, or damask; the garters were worn externally below the knee, made of gold, silver, or velvet, and trimmed with a deep gold fringe. red silk stockings, parti-coloured gaiters, and even 'cross gartering' to represent the scotch tartan, were frequently seen. the shoes of this period were cork-soled, and elevated their wearers at least two or three inches from the ground. they were composed of velvet of various colours, worked in the precious metals, and if fastened with strings, immense roses of ribbon were attached to them, variously ornamented, and frequently of great value, as may be seen in howe's continuation of stowe's chronicle, where he tells us 'men of rank wear garters and shoe-roses of more than five pounds price.' the dress of a gentleman was not considered perfect without a dagger and rapier. the former was worn at the back, and was highly ornamented. the latter having superseded, about the middle of elizabeth's reign, the heavy two-handed sword, previously used in england, was, indeed, chiefly worn as an ornament, the hilt and scabbard being always profusely decorated." [illustration] chapter v. strange freaks of louise de lorraine--one of her adventures--her dress at a royal _fête_--marie de medici--the distended dresses of her time--hair-powder--costume _à la enfant_--escapade of the young louis--low dresses of the period--the court of louis xiv. of france--high heels, slender waists, and fancy costumes--the siamese dress--charles i. of england--patches introduced--elaborate costumes of the period--puritanism, its effect on the fashions--fashions in cromwell's time, and the general prevalence of the practice of tight-lacing--the ladies of augsburg described by hoechstetterus. little change appears to have taken place in the prevailing fashions of england for some considerable time after this period. in france two opposing influences sprang up. henry iii., as we have seen, was the slave of fashion, and mainly occupied his time in devising some new and extravagant article of raiment. his wife, louise de lorraine, on the other hand, although exceedingly handsome, was of a gloomy, stern, and ascetic disposition, dressing more like a nun than the wife of so gay a husband. she caused numerous sumptuary laws to be framed, in order to, if possible, reduce the style of ladies' dress to a standard nearer her own; and the following anecdote will serve to show the petty spirit in which her powers were sought to be exercised. [illustration: court dress during the boyhood of louis xiii.] [illustration: marie de medici.] a writer on her life says, "she was accustomed to go out on foot with but a single attendant, both habited plainly in some woollen fabric, and one day, on entering a mercer's shop in the rue st. denis, she encountered the wife of a president tricked out superbly in the latest fashions of the day. the subject did not recognise the sovereign, who inquired her name, and received for answer that she was called 'la présidente de m.,' the information being given curtly, and with the additional remark, 'to satisfy your curiosity.' to this the queen replied, 'but, madame la présidente, you are very smart for a person of your condition.' still the interrogator was not recognised, and madame la présidente, with that pertness so characteristic of ordinary womankind, replied, 'at any rate, you did not pay for my smartness.' scarcely was this retort completed when it dawned upon the speaker that it was the queen who had been putting these posing questions, and then a scene followed of contrite apology on the one hand, and remonstrance on the frivolity of smart attire on the other, both very easy to imagine." with all this pretended simplicity and humility, queen louise, on certain occasions, indulged in the most lavish display of her personal attractions. it is related of her that on the marriage of her sister margaret, she attended a magnificent _fête_ given at the hôtel de bourbon, and made her appearance in the saloon or grand ball-room as the leader of twelve beautiful young ladies, arrayed as naiads. the queen wore a dress of silver cloth, with a tunic of flesh-coloured and silver _crêpes_ over it; on her head she wore a splendid ornament, composed of triangles of diamonds, rubies, and various other gems and precious stones. still the king was the acknowledged leader of fashion, which the queen did all in her power to suppress, except when it suited her royal caprice to astonish the world with her own elegance. henry iv. appears to have had no especial inclination for matters relating to fashion, and the world wagged much as it pleased so far as he was concerned. on his marrying, however, his second wife, marie de medici, another ardent supporter of all that was splendid, sumptuous, and magnificent was found. his first wife, indeed, marguerite de valois, had strong fashionable proclivities, but she was utterly eclipsed by the new star, whose portrait is the subject of the accompanying illustration, in which it will be seen that the wide hips and distended form of dress accompany the long and narrow waist. this style of costume remained popular, as did hair-powder, which was introduced in consequence of the grey locks of henry iv., until the boy-king louis xiii., who was placed under the control and regency of his mother, caused by his juvenile appearance a marked change in the fashions of the time. the men shaved off their whiskers and beards, and the ladies brushed back their hair _à l'enfant_, and as about this time marie showed strong indications of a tendency towards portliness, the hoops were discarded; and short waists, laced to an extreme degree of tightness, long trailing skirts, and very high-heeled shoes were introduced. the dresses of this period of sudden change were worn excessively low, and it is said of young louis that he was so alarmed, enraged, and astonished at the sight of the white shoulders of a lady of high position that he threw a glass of wine over them, and precipitately quitted the scene of his discomfiture. the annexed illustration shows the style of dress after the changes above referred to. the next noteworthy changes we shall see taking place during the reign of charles i. in england and louis xiv. of france. the court of the _grand monarque_ was one of extraordinary pomp and magnificence; flowing ringlets, shoes with heels of extraordinary height, and waists of extreme slenderness were the rage. fancy costumes were also much affected. the accompanying illustration represents a lady and gentleman of the period equipped for the _chase_, but of what it would be difficult to say, unless butterflies were considered in the category of game. the so-called siamese dress, which became so generally popular, was worn first during the reign of louis xiv. many of these dresses were extremely rich and elegant; one is described as having the tunic or upper-skirt composed of scarlet silk with brocaded gold flowers. the under-skirt was of green and gold, with frills of exquisite work from the elbow to the wrist. the accompanying illustration represents a court lady dressed in this style, and that which follows it a fancy dress of the same period. it was in this reign that the coloured and ornamented clocks to ladies' stockings first made their appearance. patches for the face were first worn in england during the reign of charles, although they continued in use for a great number of years, and the following satirical lines were written by an old author regarding them and one of their wearers:-- "your homely face, flippanta, you disguise with patches numerous as argus' eyes; i own that patching's requisite for you, for more we're pleased the less your face we view; yet i advise, since my advice you ask, wear but one patch, and be that patch a mask." [illustration: fancy costumes of the time of louis xiv.] [illustration: siamese dress worn at the court of louis xiv.] the fashions set by the court of louis were eagerly seized on by the whole of europe. the flowing curls, lace cuffs, and profuse embroidery in use at the court of charles of england were all borrowed from france, but the general licence and laxity of the period for some short time showed itself in the dress of the ladies, whilst fickleness and love of change, accompanied by thoughtless luxury and profusion, prevailed. the following complaint of a lady's serving-man, dated , will show that the puritans were not without reason in condemning the extravagances of the time:-- "here is a catalogue as tedious as a taylor's bill of all the devices which i am commanded to provide (_videlicet_):-- "chains, coronets, pendants, bracelets, and earrings, pins, girdles, spangles, embroidaries, and rings, shadomes, rebatacs, ribbands, ruffs, cuffs, falls, scarfs, feathers, fans, maskes, muffes, laces, cauls, thin tiffanies, cobweb lawn, and fardingales, sweet sals, vyles, wimples, glasses, crumping pins, pots of ointment, combs, with poking-sticks, and bodkins, coyfes, gorgets, fringes, rowels, fillets, and hair laces, silks, damasks, velvets, tinsels, cloth of gold, of tissues with colours a hundredfold, but in her tyres so new-fangled is she that which doth with her humour now agree, to-morrow she dislikes; now doth she swear that a losse body is the neatest weare, but ere an hour be gone she will protest a strait gown graces her proportion best. "now calls she for a boisterous fardingale, then to her hips she'll have her garments fall. now doth she praise a sleeve that's long and wide, yet by and by that fashion doth deride; sometimes she applauds a pavement-sweeping train, and presently dispraiseth it again; now she commands a shallow band so small that it may seem scarce any band at all; but now a new fancy doth she reele, and calls for one as big as a coach-wheele; she'll weare a flowry coronet to-day, the symbol of her beauty's sad decay; to-morrow she a waving plume will try, the emblem of all female levitie; now in her hat, then in her hair is drest, now of all fashions she thinks change the best." on puritanism becoming general the style of dress adopted by the so-called "roundheads," as a contrast to that of the hated "cavaliers," was stiff, prim, and formal to a degree; and during cromwell's sway as protector, small waists, stiff corsets, and very tight lacing again became the fashion; and bulwer, who writes in , in speaking of the young ladies of his day, says, "they strive all they possibly can by streight lacing themselves to attain unto a wand-like smallness of waist, never thinking themselves fine enough until they can span their waists." the annexed illustration, adapted by us from his work, _the artificial changeling_, represents a young lady who has achieved the desired tenuity. he also quotes from hoechstetterus, who in his description of "_auspurge_, the metropolis of _swevia_," (meaning augsburg, the capital of _suabia_), "they are," saith he, describing the virgins of auspurge, "slender, streight laced, with '_demisse_' (sloping) shoulders, lest being grosse and well made they should be thought to have too athletique bodies." so throughout the length and breadth of europe the use of tightly-laced corsets remained general. [illustration: young english lady of fashion, .] [illustration: fancy dress worn in the reign of louis xv.] chapter vi. fashion during the reign of louis xv.--costumes _à la_ watteau--an army of barbers--the fashions of england during the reign of queen anne--the diminutive waist and enormous hoop of her day--the farthingale: letters in the _guardian_ protesting against its use--fashion in --low dresses, tight stays, and short skirts: letters relating to--correspondence touching the fashions of that period from the _guardian_--accomplishments of a lady's-maid--writings of gay and ben jonson--their remarks on the "_bodice_" and "_stays_." at the death of louis xiv. and the accession of his successor, louis xv., in , fashions ran into wonderful extremes and caprices. hoops became the rage, as did patches, paint, and marvellously high-heeled shoes. the artistic skill of watteau in depicting costume and devising the attributes of the favourite fancy dresses of the time, led to their adoption among the votaries of fashion. shepherds who owned no sheep were tricked out in satins, laces, and ribbons, and tripped it daintily hand in hand with the exquisitely-dressed, slender-waisted shepherdesses we see reproduced in dresden china and the accompanying illustration. guitars tinkled beneath the trees of many a grove in the pleasure-grounds of the fine old châteaux of france; fruit strewed on the ground, costly wines in massive flagons, groups of gay gallants and charming belles, such as the accompanying illustration represents, engaged in love-making, music and flirtation, make up the scene on which watteau loved most to dwell, and which king louis' gay subjects were not slow in performing to the life, and the happy age of the poet appeared all but realised:-- "there was once a golden time when the world was in its prime-- when every day was holiday, and every shepherd learned to love." to carry out the everyday life of this dream world, no small amount of sacrifice and labour was needed, and we are informed that over twelve hundred hairdressers were in full occupation in paris alone, frizzing, curling, and arranging in a thousand and one fantastical ways, hours being needed to perfect the head-gear of a lady of _ton_. for the prevailing fashions of england we must step back a few years, and glance at the latter portion of the reign of queen anne, at which time we find the diminutive size of the waist in marked contrast to the enormous dimensions of the hoop or farthingale, which reached such a formidable size that numerous remonstrances appeared in the journals of the day relative to it. the following letter complaining of the grievance appeared in the _guardian_ of july , :-- "mr. guardian,--your predecessor, the _spectator_, endeavoured, but in vain, to improve the charms of the fair sex by exposing their dress whenever it launched into extremities. amongst the rest the great petticoat came under his consideration, but in contradiction to whatever he has said, they still resolutely persist in this fashion. the form of their bottom is not, i confess, altogether the same, for whereas before it was one of an orbicular make, they now look as if they were pressed so that they seem to deny access to any part but the middle. many are the inconveniences that accrue to her majesty's loving subjects from the said petticoats, as hurting men's shins, sweeping down the ware of industrious females in the street, &c. i saw a young lady fall down the other day, and, believe me, sir, she very much resembled an overturned bell without a clapper. many other disasters i could tell you of that befall themselves as well as others by means of this unwieldy garment. i wish, mr. guardian, you would join with me in showing your dislike of such a monstrous fashion, and i hope, when the ladies see this, the opinion of two of the wisest men in england, they will be convinced of their folly. "i am, sir, your daily reader and admirer, "tom pain." [illustration: costumes after watteau.] [illustration: crinoline in .] the accompanying illustration will show that these remonstrances were not without cause. the fashion of wearing extremely low dresses, with particularly short skirts, also led to much correspondence and many strong remarks, which are duly commented on by the editor of the _guardian_, assisted by his "_good old lady_," as he calls her, "the lady lizard." thus he writes on the subject under discussion:-- "_editorial letter._ "guardian, _july , _. "i am very well pleased with this approbation of my good sisters. i must confess i have always looked on the 'tucker' to be the _decus et tutamen_, the ornament and defence of the female neck. my good old lady, the lady lizard, condemned this fashion from the beginning, and has observed to me, with some concern, that her sex at the same time they are letting down their stays are tucking up their petticoats, which grow shorter and shorter every day. the leg discovers itself in proportion with the neck, but i may possibly take another occasion of handling this extremity, it being my design to keep a watchful eye over every part of the female sex, and to regulate them from head to foot. in the meantime i shall fill up my paper with a letter which comes to me from another of my obliged correspondents." that these very low dresses were not alone worn in the house and at assemblies, but were also occasionally seen on the promenades, is shown by the following satirical appeal to the editor of the journal from which we have just been quoting, and the accompanying illustration represents the too-fascinating style of costume which caused its writer so much concern:-- "_wednesday, august , ._ "notwithstanding your grave advice to the fair sex not to lay the beauties of their necks so open, i find they mind you so little that we young men are as much in danger as ever. yesterday, about seven in the evening, i took a walk with a gentleman, just come to town, in a public walk. we had not walked above two rounds when the spark on a sudden pretended weariness, and as i importuned him to stay longer he turned short, and, pointing out a celebrated beauty, 'what,' said he, 'do you think i am made of, that i could bear the sight of such snowy beauties? she is intolerably handsome.' upon this we parted, and i resolved to take a little more air in the garden, yet avoid the danger, by casting my eyes downwards; but, to my unspeakable surprise, discovered in the same fair creature the finest ankle and prettiest foot that ever fancy imagined. if the petticoats as well as the stays thus diminish, what shall we do, dear mentor? it is neither safe to look at the head nor the feet of the charmer. whither shall we direct our eyes? i need not trouble you with my description of her, but i beg you would consider that your wards are frail and mortal. "your most obedient servant, "epernectises." [illustration: low bodies and curtailed crinoline.] there is no source, perhaps, from which a clearer view of the fashions of this period, and mode of thought then entertained concerning them, could be obtained than the antiquated journal we have just quoted from. the opinions therein expressed, and the system of reasoning adopted by some of the contributors to its columns, are so singularly quaint that we cannot resist giving the reader the benefit of them. the happy vein of philosophy possessed by the writer of the following letter must have made the world a mere pleasure-garden, through which he wandered at his own sweet will, "king of the universe:"-- "guardian, _friday, may th, _. "when i walk the streets i use the foregoing natural maxim (viz., that he is the true possessor of a thing who enjoys it, and not he that owns it without the enjoyment of it) to convince myself that i have a property in the gay part of all the gilt chariots that i meet, which i regard as amusements designed to delight the eye and the imagination of those kind people who sit in them gaily attired only to please me. i have a real and they only an imaginary pleasure from their exterior embellishments. upon the same principle i have discovered that i am the natural proprietor of all the diamond necklaces, the crosses and stars, brocades and embroidered cloths which i see at a play or birthnight, as giving more natural delight to the spectator than to those who wear them; and i look on the beaux and ladies as so many paroquets in an aviary, or tulips in a garden, designed purely for my diversion. a gallery of pictures, a cabinet, or library that i have free access to, i think my own. in a word, all that i desire is the use of things, let who will have the keeping of them. by which maxim i am growing one of the richest men in great britain, with this difference, that i am not a prey to my own cares or the envy of others." the reply to the foregoing letter by a lady of fashion, written with a strong dash of satire, is equally curious in its way, as it shows the great importance attached to a pleasing and attractive exterior:-- "_to the editor of the_ guardian. "_tuesday, may th, ._ "sir,--i am a lady of birth and fortune, but never knew till last thursday that the splendour of my equipage was so beneficial to my country. i will not deny that i have dressed for some years out of the pride of my heart, but am very glad that you have so far settled my conscience in that particular that now i can look upon my vanities as so many virtues, since i am satisfied that my person and garb give pleasure to my fellow-creatures. i shall not think the three hours' business i usually devote to my toilette below the dignity of a rational soul. i am content to suffer great torment from my stays that my shape may appear graceful to the eyes of others, and often mortify myself with fasting rather than my fatness should give distaste to any man in england. i am making up a rich brocade for the benefit of mankind, and design in a little time to treat the town with a thousand pounds' worth of jewellery. i have ordered my chariot to be newly painted for your use and the world's, and have prevailed upon my husband to present you with a pair of flanders mares, by driving them every evening round the ring. gay pendants for my ears, a costly cross for my neck, a diamond of the best water for my finger shall be purchased, at any rate, to enrich you, and i am resolved to be a patriot in every limb. my husband will not scruple to oblige me in these trifles, since i have persuaded him, from your scheme, that pin-money is only so much money set for charitable uses. you see, sir, how expensive you are to me, and i hope you will esteem me accordingly, especially when i assure you that i am, as far as you can see me, "entirely yours, "cleora." the tight lacing and tremendously stiff corsets of the time were also the subjects of satirical remark in some quarters, and were upheld in others, as the two following letters, copied from the _guardian_ of , will show:-- "_thursday, june th, ._ "sir,--don't know at what nice point you fix the bloom of a young lady, but i am one who can just look back on fifteen. my father dying three years ago left me under the care and direction of my mother, with a fortune not profusely great, yet such as might demand a very handsome settlement if ever proposals of marriage should be offered. my mother, after the usual time of retired mourning was over, was so affectionately indulgent to me as to take me along with her in all her visits, but still, not thinking she gratified my youth enough, permitted me further to go with my relatives to all the publick cheerful but innocent entertainments, where she was too reserved to appear herself. the two first years of my teens were easy, gay, and delightful; every one caressed me, the old ladies told me how finely i grew, and the young ones were proud of my company; but when the third year had a little advanced, my relations used to tell my mother that pretty miss clarey was shot up into a woman. the gentlemen began now not to let their eyes glance over me, and in most places i found myself distinguished, but observed the more i grew into the esteem of their sex, the more i lost the favour of my own; some of those whom i had been familiar with grew cold and indifferent; others mistook by design my meaning, made me speak what i never thought, and so, by degrees, took occasion to break off acquaintance. there were several little insignificant reflections cast upon me, as being a lady of a great many acquaintances, and such like, which i seemed not to take notice of. but my mother coming home about a week ago, told me there was a scandal spread about town by my enemies that would at once ruin me for ever for a beauty. i earnestly intreated her to know it; she refused me, but yesterday it discovered itself. being in an assembly of gentlemen and ladies, one of the gentlemen, who had been very facetious to several of the ladies, at last turned to me. 'and as for you, madam. prior has already given us your character:-- "'that air and harmony of shape express, fine by degrees and beautifully less.' "i perceived immediately a malignant smile display itself in the countenance of some of the ladies, which they seconded with a scornful flutter of the fan, till one of them, unable any longer to contain herself, asked the gentleman if he did not remember what congreve said about aurelia, for she thought it mighty pretty. he made no answer, but instantly repeated the verses-- "'the mulcibers who in the minories sweat, and massive bars on stubborn anvils beat, deformed themselves, yet forge those stays of steel, which arm aurelia with a shape to kill.' "this was no sooner over but it was easily discernable what an ill-natured satisfaction most of the company took, and the more pleasure they showed by dwelling upon the two last lines, the more they increased my trouble and confusion. and now, sir, after this tedious account, what would you advise me to? is there no way to be cleared of these malicious calumnies? what is beauty worth that makes the possessed thus unhappy? why was nature so lavish of her gifts to me as to make her kindness prove a cruelty? they tell me my shape is delicate, my eyes sparkling, my lips i know not what, my cheeks, forsooth, adorned with a just mixture of the rose and lillie; but i wish this face was barely not disagreeable, this voice harsh and unharmonious, these limbs only not deformed, and then perhaps i might live easie and unmolested, and neither raise love and admiration in the men, nor scandal and hatred in the women. "your very humble servant, "clarina." "_editor's reply to letter of thursday, june th, ._ "the best answer i can make my fair correspondent is, that she ought to comfort herself with this consideration, that those who talk thus of her know it is false, but wish to make others believe it is true. 'tis not they think you deformed, but are vexed that they themselves were not so nicely framed. if you will take an old man's advice, laugh and not be concerned at them; they have attained what they endeavoured if they make you uneasie, for it is envy that has made them. i would not have you with your shape one fiftieth part of an inch disproportioned, nor desire your face might be impoverished with the ruin of half a feature, though numbers of remaining beauties might make the loss insensible; but take courage, go into the brightest assemblies, and the world will quickly confess it to be scandal. thus plato, hearing it was asserted by some persons that he was a very bad man--'i shall take care,' said he, 'to live so that nobody will believe them.'" the milliners and lady's-maids of the time were expected to fully understand all matters relating to the training of the figure. a writer of this period, in speaking of the requisite accomplishments of a mantua-maker, says--"she must know how to hide all the defects in the proportions of the body, and must be able to mould the shape by the stays so as to preserve the intestines, that while she corrects the body she may not interfere with the pleasures of the palate." some difference of opinion has existed as to the period at which the word "stays" was first used to indicate an article of dress of the nature of the corset or bodice. it is evident that the term must have been perfectly familiar long anterior to , as constant use is made of it in the letters we have just given. gay, who wrote about , also avails himself of it in _the toilette_-- "i own her taper form is made to please, yet if you saw her unconfined by _stays_!" the word "boddice," or "bodice," was not unfrequently spelt _bodies_ by old authors, amongst whom may be mentioned ben jonson, who wrote about , and mentions "the whalebone man that quilts the _bodies_ i have leave to span." [illustration] chapter vii. general use of the word "stays" after in england--costume of the court of louis xvi.--dress in --the formidable stays and severe constriction then had recourse to--the stays drawn by hogarth--dress during the french revolutionary period--short waists and long trains--writings of buchan--_jumpers_ and "_garibaldis_"--return to the old practice of tight-lacing--training of figures: backboards and stocks--medical evidence in favour of stays--fashion in the reign of george iii.--stays worn habitually by gentlemen--general use of corsets for boys on the continent--the officers of gustavus adolphus--the use of the corset for youths: a letter from a gentleman on the subject of--evidence regarding the wearing of corsets by gentlemen of the present day--remarks on the changes of fashion--the term "crinoline" not new--crinoline among the south sea islanders--remarks of madame la sante on crinoline and slender waists--abstinence from food as an assistance to the corset--anecdote from the _traditions of edinburgh_--the custom of wearing corsets during sleep, its growing prevalence in schools and private families: letters relating to--the belles of the united states and their "_illusion waists_"--medical evidence in favour of moderately tight lacing--letters from ladies who have been subjected to tight-lacing. for some considerable period of time we find stays much more frequently spoken of than corsets in the writings of english authors, but their use continued to be as general and their form of construction just as unyielding as ever, both at home and abroad. the costume worn at the court of louis xvi., of which the following illustration will give an idea, depended mainly for its completeness on the form of the stays, over which the elaborately-finished body of the dress was made to fit without fold or crease, forming a sort of bodice, which in many instances was sewn on to the figure of the wearer after the stays had been laced to their extreme limit. the towering headdress and immensely wide and distended skirt gave to the figure an additional appearance of tenuity, as we have seen when describing similar contrivances in former times. most costly laces were used for the sleeves, and the dress itself was often sumptuously brocaded and ornamented with worked wreaths and flowers. high-heeled shoes were not wanting to complete the rather astounding toilet of . for many years before this time, and, in fact, from the commencement of the eighteenth century, it had been the custom for staymakers, in the absence of any other material strong and unyielding enough to stand the wear and tension brought to bear on their wares, to employ a species of leather known as "_bend_," which was not unlike that used for shoe-soles, and measured very nearly a quarter of an inch in thickness. the stays made from this were very long-waisted, forming a narrow conical case, in the most circumscribed portion of which the waist was closely laced, so that the figure was made upright to a degree. many of hogarth's figures, who wear the stays of his time ( ), are erect and remarkably slender-waisted. such stays as he has drawn are perfectly straight in cut, and are filled with stiffening and bone. [illustration: court dress of the reign of louis xvi.] [illustration: classic costume of the french revolutionary period.] in we find a strong disposition manifested to adopt the so-called classic style of costume. during the french revolutionary movement and in the reign of the first napoleon, the ladies endeavoured to copy the costume of ancient greece, and in were about as successful in their endeavours as young ladies at fancy dress balls usually are in personating mermaids or fairy queens. the annexed illustration represents the classic style of that period. for several years the ladies of england adopted much the same style of costume, and resorted to loose bodies--if bodies they might be called--long trains, and waists so short that they began and ended immediately under the armpits. the following illustration represents a lady of . buchan, in writing during this short-waisted, long-trained period, congratulates himself and society at large on the fact of "the old strait waistcoats of whalebone," as he styles them, falling into disuse. not long after this the laws of fashion became unsettled, as they periodically have done for ages, and the lines written by an author who wrote not long after might have been justly applied to the changeable tastes of this transition period:-- "now a shape in neat stays, now a slattern in jumps," these "jumps" being merely loose short jackets, very much like those worn under the name of "_jumpers_" at the present day by shipwrights and some other artificers. the form of the modern "garibaldi" appears to have been borrowed from this. the reign of relaxation seems to have been of a comparatively short duration indeed, as we see by the remark made by buchan's son, who edited a new edition of his father's work, _advice to mothers_, and an appendix to it:--"small" (says he) "is the confidence to be placed in the permanent effects of fashion. had the author lived till the present year ( ), he would have witnessed the fashion of tight lacing revived with a degree of fury and prevailing to an extent which he could form no conception of, and which posterity will not credit. stays are now composed, not of whalebone, indeed, or hardened leather, but of bars of iron and steel from three to four inches broad, and many of them not less than eighteen in length." the same author informs us that it was by no means uncommon to see "a mother lay her daughter down upon the carpet, and, placing her foot on her back, break half-a-dozen laces in tightening her stays." those who advocate the use of the corset as being indispensable to the female toilet have much reason on their side when they insist that these temporary freaks of fancy for loose and careless attire only call for infinitely more rigid and severe constriction after they (as they invariably have done) pass away, than if the regular training of the figure had been systematically carried out by the aid of corsets of ordinary power. in a period certainly not much over thirty years, the old-established standard of elegance, "the span," was again established for waist measurement. strutt, whose work was published in , informs us that in his own time he remembers it to have been said of young women, in proof of the excellence of their shape, that you might _span their waists_, and he also speaks of having seen a singing girl at the italian opera whose waist was laced to such an excessive degree of smallness that it was painful to look at her. [illustration: lady of fashion, .] pope, in the _challenge_, in speaking of the improved charms of a beauty of the court of george ii., clearly shows in what high esteem a slender figure was held. as a bit of acceptable news, he says-- "tell pickenbourg how _slim_ she's grown." there is abundant evidence to show that no ordinary amount of management and training was had recourse to then, as now, for reducing the waists of those whose figures had been neglected to the required standard of fashionable perfection, and that those who understood the art were somewhat chary in conferring the benefit of it. in a poem entitled the _bassit table_, attributed to lady m. w. montagu, similinda, in exposing the ingratitude of a rival beauty, exclaims-- "she owes to me the very charms she wears-- an awkward thing when first she came to town, _her shape unfashioned_ and her face unknown; i introduced her to the park and plays, and by my interest _cozens made her stays_." a favour in those days no doubt well worthy of gratitude and due consideration. about this time it was the custom of some fashionable staymakers to sew a narrow, stiff, curved bar of steel along the upper edge of the stays, which, extending back to the shoulders on each side, effectually kept them back, and rendered the use of shoulder-straps superfluous. the slightest tendency to stoop was at once corrected by the use of the backboard, which was strapped flat against the back of the waist and shoulders, extending up the back of the neck, where a steel ring covered with leather projected to the front and encircled the throat. the young lady of fashion undergoing the then system of boarding-school training enjoyed no bed of roses, especially if unblessed on the score of slenderness. a hard time indeed must an awkward, careless girl have had of it, incased in stiff, tightly-laced stays, backboard on back, and feet in stocks. she simply had to improve or suffer, and probably did both. it is singular and noteworthy that although so many of the older authors give stays the credit of constantly producing spinal curvature, an able writer on the subject of the present day should make this unqualified assertion:--"to some, stays may have been injurious; fewer evils, so far as my experience goes, have arisen from them than from other causes." it is well known that ladies of the eighteenth century did not suffer from spinal disease in the proportion of those of the nineteenth, which might arise in some degree from the system of education; but some highly-educated women of that period were elegant and graceful figures, and it is well known they generally wore stiff stays, though their make, it must be admitted, was less calculated to injure the figure than many of those of the present day. the author we have just quoted goes on to say--"mr. walker, in ridiculing the practice of wearing stays, has chosen a very homely and not very correct illustration of the human figure. 'the uppermost pair of ribs,' says he, 'which lie just at the bottom of the neck, are very short. the next pair are rather longer, the third longer still, and thus they go on increasing in length to the seventh pair, or last true ribs, after which the length diminishes, but without materially contracting the size of the cavity, because the false ribs only go round a part of the body. hence the chest has a sort of conical shape, or it may be compared to a common beehive, the narrow pointed end being next the neck, and the broad end undermost; the natural form of the chest, in short, is just the reverse of the fashionable shape of the waist; the latter is narrow below and wide above, the former is narrow above and wide below.' surely, when the idea struck him, he must have been gazing on a living skeleton, uncovered with muscle. after reading his observations, i took the measure of a well-formed little girl, seven years of age, who had never worn stays, and found the circumference of the bust just below the shoulders one inch and a-half larger than at the lower part of the waist." the views of the author just quoted seem to be borne out by the researches of a french physician of high standing who has paid much attention to the subject. he positively asserts that "_corsets cannot be charged with causing deviation of the vertebral column_." after the period referred to by buchan's son, when tight-lacing was so rigorously revived, we see no diminution of it, and towards the end of george iii.'s reign, gentlemen, as well as ladies, availed themselves of the assistance of the corset-maker. advertising tailors of the time freely advertised their "codrington corsets" and "petersham stiffners" for gentlemen of fashion, much as the "alexandra corset," or "the empress's own stay," is brought to the notice of the public at the present day. soemmering informs us that as long ago as , "it was the fashion in berlin, and also in holland a few years before, to apply corsets to children, and many families might be named in which parental fondness selected the handsomest of several boys to put in corsets." in france, russia, austria, and germany, this practice has been decidedly on the increase since that time, and lads intended for the army are treated much after the manner of young ladies, and are almost as tightly laced. it is related of prince de ligne and prince kaunitz that they were invariably incased in most expensively-made satin corsets, the former wearing black and the latter white. dr. doran, in writing of the officers of the far-famed "lion of the north," gustavus adolphus, says, "they were the tightest-laced exquisites of suffering humanity." the worthy doctor, like many others who have written on the subject, inseparably associates the habitual wearing of corsets with extreme suffering; but the gentlemen who, like the ladies, have been subjected to the full discipline of the corset, not only emphatically deny that it has caused them any injury, and, beyond the inconvenience experienced on adopting any new article of attire, little uneasiness, but, on the contrary, maintain that the sensations associated with the confirmed practice of tight-lacing are so agreeable that those who are once addicted to it rarely abandon the practice. the following letter to the _englishwoman's magazine_ of november, , from a gentleman who was educated in vienna, will show this:-- "madam,--may i be permitted for once to ask admission to your 'conversazione,' and to plead as excuse for my intrusion that i am really anxious to indorse your fair correspondent's (belle's) assertion that it is those who know nothing practically of the corset who are most vociferous in condemning it? strong-minded women who have never worn a pair of stays, and gentlemen blinded by hastily-formed prejudice, alike anathematise an article of dress of the good qualities of which they are utterly ignorant, and which consequently they cannot appreciate. on a subject of so much importance as regards comfort (to say nothing of the question of elegance, scarcely less important on a point of feminine costume), no amount of theory will ever weigh very heavily when opposed to practical experience. "the proof of the pudding is a proverb too true not to be acted on in such a case. to put the matter to actual test, can any of the opponents of the corset honestly state that they have given up stays after having fairly tried them, except in compliance with the persuasions or commands of friends or medical advisers, who seek in the much-abused corset a convenient first cause for an ailment that baffles their skill? 'the young lady herself' (a former correspondent) does not complain of either illness or pain, even after the first few months; while, on the other hand, staylace, nora, and belle bring ample testimony, both of themselves and their schoolfellows, as to the comfort and pleasure of tight-lacing. to carry out my first statement as to the truth of belle's remark, those of the opposite sex who, either from choice or necessity, have adopted this article of attire, are unanimous in its praise; while even among an assemblage of opponents a young lady's elegant figure is universally admired while the cause is denounced. from personal experience, i beg to express a decided and unqualified approval of corsets. i was early sent to school in austria, where lacing is not considered ridiculous in a gentleman as in england, and i objected in a thoroughly english way when the doctor's wife required me to be laced. i was not allowed any choice, however. a sturdy _mädchen_ was stoically deaf to my remonstrances, and speedily laced me up tightly in a fashionable viennese corset. i presume my impressions were not very different from those of your lady correspondents. i felt ill at ease and awkward, and the daily lacing tighter and tighter produced inconvenience and absolute pain. in a few months, however, i was as anxious as any of my ten or twelve companions to have my corsets laced as tightly as a pair of strong arms could draw them. it is from no feeling of vanity that i have ever since continued to wear them, for, not caring to incur ridicule, i take good care that my dress shall not betray me, but i am practically convinced of the comfort and pleasantness of tight-lacing, and thoroughly agree with staylace that the sensation of being tightly laced in an elegant, well-made, tightly-fitting pair of corsets is superb. there is no other word for it. i have dared this avowal because i am thoroughly ashamed of the idle nonsense that is being constantly uttered on this subject in england. the terrors of hysteria, neuralgia, and, above all, consumption, are fearlessly promised to our fair sisters if they dare to disregard preconceived opinions, while, on the other hand, some medical men are beginning slowly to admit that they cannot conscientiously support the extravagant assertions of former days. '_stay torture_,' '_whalebone vices_,' and 'corset screws' are very terrible and horrifying things upon paper, but when translated into _coutil_ or satin they wear a different appearance in the eyes of those most competent to give an opinion. that much perfectly unnecessary discomfort and inconvenience is incurred by the purchasers of ready-made corsets is doubtless true. the waist measure being right, the chest, where undue constriction will naturally produce evil effects, is very generally left to chance. if, then, the wearer suffers, who is to blame but herself? "the remark echoed by nearly all your correspondents, that ladies have the remedy in their own hands by having their stays made to measure, is too self-evident for me to wish to enlarge upon it; but i do wish to assert and insist that, if a corset allows sufficient room in the chest, the waist may be laced as tightly as the wearer desires without fear of evil consequences; and, further, that the ladies themselves who have given tight-lacing a fair trial, and myself and schoolfellows converted against our will, are the only jury entitled to pronounce authoritatively on the subject, and that the comfortable support and enjoyment afforded by a well-laced corset quite overbalances the theoretical evils that are so confidently prophesied by outsiders. "walter." since it has become a custom to send lads from england to the continent for education, many of them adhere to the use of the corset on their return, and of the use of this article of attire among the rising generation of the gentlemen of this country there can be no doubt; we are informed by one of the leading corset-makers in london that it is by no means unusual to receive the orders of gentlemen, not for the manufacture of the belts so commonly used in horse-exercise, but veritable corsets, strongly boned, steeled, and made to lace behind in the usual way--not, as the corset-maker assured us, from any feeling of vanity on the part of the wearers, who so arranged their dresses that no one would even suspect that they wore corsets beneath them, but simply because they had become accustomed to tight-lacing, and were fond of it. so it will be seen that the fair sex are not the only corset-wearers. [illustration: fashionable dress in .] [illustration: lady of fashion, .] during , it will be seen by the accompanying illustration that fashion demanded the contour of the figure should be fully defined, and the absence of any approach to fullness about the skirt below the waist led to the use of very tight stays, in order that there might be some contrast in the outline of the figure. this style of dress, with slight modifications, remained in fashion for several years. in , the dress, as will be seen on reference to the annexed illustration, had changed but little; but three years, or thereabouts, worked a considerable change, and we see, in , sleeves of the most formidable size, hats to match, short skirts, and long slender waists the rage again. a few years later the skirts had assumed a much wider spread; the sleeves of puffed-out pattern were discarded. the waist took its natural position, and was displayed to the best advantage by the expansion of drapery below it, as will be seen on reference to the annexed cut. the term "crinoline" is by no means a new one, and long before the hooped petticoats with which the fashions of the last few years have made us so familiar, the horsehair cloth, so much used for distending the skirts of dresses, was commonly known by that name. it is not our intention here to enter on a description of the almost endless forms which from time to time this adjunct to ladies' dress has assumed. whether the idea of its construction was first borrowed from certain savage tribes it is difficult to determine. that a very marked and unmistakable form of it existed amongst the natives of certain of the south sea islands at their discovery by the early navigators, the curious cut, representing a native belle, will show, and there is no doubt that, although the dress of the savage is somewhat different in its arrangement from that of the european lady of fashion, the object sought by the use of a wide-spread base to the form is the same. madame la sante, in writing on the subject, says--"every one must allow that the expanding skirts of a dress, springing out immediately below the waist, materially assist by contrast in making the waist look small and slender. it is, therefore, to be hoped that now that crinoline no longer assumes absurd dimensions, it will long continue to hold its ground." the same author, in speaking of the prevailing taste for slender waists, thus writes:--"we have seen that for many hundred years a slender figure has been considered a most attractive female charm, and there is nothing to lead us to suppose that a taste which appears to be implanted in man's very nature will ever cease to render the acquisition of a small waist an object of anxious solicitude with those who have the care of the young." for several years this solicitude has been decidedly on the increase, and many expedients which were had recourse to in ancient days for reducing the waist to exceeding slenderness, are, we shall see as we proceed, in full operation. a very sparing diet has, as we have already seen, from the days of terentius, been one great aid to the operation of the corset. there is a very quaint account to be found in the _traditions of edinburgh_ bearing on this dieting system. an elderly lady of fashion, who appears to have lived in scotland during the early part of the last century, was engaged on the formation of the figures of her daughters, stinted meals and tight corsets worn day and night being some of the means made use of; but it is related that a certain cunning and evil-minded cook, whose coarse mind only ran on the pleasure of the appetite, used to creep stealthily in the dead of night to the chamber in which the young ladies slept, unlace their stays, and let them feed heartily on the strictly-prohibited dainties of the pantry; grown rash by impunity, she one night ventured to attempt running the blockade with hot roast goose, but three fatal circumstances combined against the success of the dangerous undertaking. in the first place, the savoury perfume arising from hot roast goose was penetrating to an alarming degree; in the second, the old lady, as ill-luck would have it, happened to be awake, and, worse than all, had no snuff, so smelt goose. the scene which followed the capture of the illicit cargo and the detection of the culprit cook can be much more easily imagined than described. [illustration: lady of fashion, .] [illustration: lady of fashion, .] the custom of wearing the corset by night as well as by day, above referred to, although partially discontinued for some time, is becoming general again. about the commencement of the last century the custom was much advocated and followed in france, and it is said to reduce and form the figure much more rapidly than any system of lacing by day only could bring about. a french author of the period referred to says--"many mothers who have an eye to the main chance, through an excess of zeal, or rather from a strange fear, condemn their daughters to wear corsets night and day, lest the interruption of their use should hinder their project of procuring for them fine waists." that ladies are fully aware of the potent influences of the practice, the following letter to the _englishwoman's domestic magazine_ will show:-- "as several of your correspondents have remarked, the personal experience of those who have for a number of years worn tight-fitting corsets can alone enable a clear and fair judgment to be pronounced upon their use. happening to have had what i believe you will admit to be an unusual experience of tight-lacing, i trust you will allow me to tell the story of my younger days. owing to the absence of my parents in india, i was allowed to attain the age of fourteen before any care was bestowed upon my figure; but their return home fortunately saved me from growing into a clumsy, inelegant girl; for my mamma was so shocked at my appearance that she took the unusual plan of making me sleep in my corset. for the first few weeks i occasionally felt considerable discomfort, owing, in a great measure, to not having worn stays before, and also to their extreme tightness and stiffness. yet, though i was never allowed to slacken them before retiring to rest, they did not in the least interfere with my sleep, nor produce any ill effects whatever. i may mention that my mamma, fearing that, at so late an age, i should have great difficulty in securing a presentable figure, considered ordinary means insufficient, and consequently had my corsets filled with whalebone and furnished with shoulder-straps, to cure the habit of stooping which i had contracted. the busk, which was nearly inflexible, was not front-fastening, and the lace being secured in a hard knot behind and at the top, effectually prevented any attempt on my part to unloose my stays. though i have read lately of this plan having been tried with advantage, i believe it is as yet an unusual one, and as the testimony of one who has undergone it without the least injury to health cannot fail to be of value in proving that the much less severe system usually adopted must be even less likely to do harm, i am sure you will do me and your numerous readers the favour of inserting this letter in your most entertaining and valuable magazine. i am delighted to see the friends of the corset muster so strong at the 'englishwoman's conversazione.' what is most required, however, are the personal experiences of the ladies themselves, and not mere treatises on tight-lacing by those who, like your correspondent brisbane, have never tried it. "mignonette." another correspondent to the same journal (signing herself "débutante") writes in the number for november, , as follows:-- "mignonette's case is not an '_unusual_' one. she has just finished her education at a 'west-end school' where the system was strictly enforced. as she entered as a pupil at the age of thirteen and was very slender, she was fitted on her arrival with a corset, which could be drawn close without the extreme tightness found necessary in mignonette's case. they did not open in front, and were fastened by the under-governess in such a manner that any attempt to unlace them during the night would be immediately detected at the morning's inspection. after the first week or two she felt no discomfort or pain of any kind, though, as she was still growing, her stays became proportionately tighter, but owing to her figure never being allowed to enlarge during the nine or ten hours of sleep, as is usually the case, this was almost imperceptible." [illustration: the crinoline of a south sea islander.] madame la sante also refers to the custom as being much more general than is commonly supposed. she says--"several instances of this system in private families have lately come to my own knowledge, and i am acquainted with more than one fashionable school in the neighbourhood of london where the practice is made a rule of the establishment. such a method is doubtlessly resorted to from a sense of duty, and those girls who have been subjected to this discipline, and with whom i have had an opportunity of conversing, say that for the first few months the uneasiness by the continued compression was very considerable, but that after a time they became so accustomed to it that they felt reluctant to discontinue the practice." in the united states of america the ladies often possess figures of remarkable slenderness and elegance, and the term "_illusion_" is not unfrequently applied to a waist of more than ordinary taperness. in a great number of instances the custom above referred to would be found to have mainly contributed to its original formation. the way in which doctors disagree on matters relating to the corset question is most remarkable. the older writers, as we have seen, launched out in the most sweeping and condemnatory manner against almost every article of becoming or attractive attire. corsets were most furiously denounced, and had the qualities which were gravely attributed to them been one-thousandth part as deadly as they were represented, the civilised world would long ere this have been utterly depopulated. when we find such diseases and ailments as the following attributed by authors of supposed talent to the use of the corset, we are no longer surprised at remarks and strictures emanating from similar sources meeting with ridicule and derision: "hooping-cough, obliquity of vision, polypus, apoplexy, stoppage of the nose, pains in the eyes, and earache" are all laid at the door of the stays. we are rather surprised that large ears and wooden legs were not added to the category, as they might have been with an equal show of reason. medical writers of the present day are beginning to take a totally different view of the matter, as the following letter from a surgeon of much experience will show:-- "my attention has just been directed to an interesting and important discussion in your magazine on the subject of corsets, and i have been urged as a medical man to give my opinion regarding them. under these circumstances i trust you will allow me to attend the 'englishwoman's conversazione' for once, as medical men are supposed to be the great opponents of the corset. it is no doubt true that those medical men who studied for their profession some thirty or forty years ago are still prejudiced against this elegant article of female dress, for stays were very different things even then to what they are now. the medical works, too, which they studied were written years before, and spoke against the buckram and iron stays of the last century. the name 'stays,' however, being still used at the present time, the same odium still attaches to them in the minds of physicians of the old school. but the rising generation of doctors are free from these prejudices, and fairly judge the light and elegant corsets of the present day on their own merits. in short, it is now generally admitted, and i, for one, freely allow, that moderate compression of the waist by well-made corsets is far from being injurious. it is really absurdly illogical for the opponents of the corset to bring forward quotations from medical writers of the last century, for the animadversions of soemmering are still quoted. let us, however, merely look at facts as they at present stand; statistics prove that there are several thousand more women than men in the united kingdom. a statement in the registrar-general's report of a few years since has been brought forward to prove that corsets produce an enormous mortality from consumption, but these would-be benefactors of the fair sex omit to state how many males die from that disease. if there be any preponderance of deaths among women from consumption, the cause may easily be found in the low dress, the thin shoes, and the sedentary occupations in close rooms, without attributing the blame to the corset. dr. walshe, in his well-known work on diseases of the lungs, distinctly asserts that corsets cannot be accused of causing consumption. with regard to spinal curvature, a disease which has been connected by some writers with the use of stays, an eminent french physician, speaking of corsets, says--'they cannot be charged with causing deviations of the vertebral column.' let us, then, hear no more nonsense about the terrible consequences of wearing corsets, at all events till the ladies return to the buckram and iron of our great-grandmothers. your fair readers may rest assured that what is said against stays at the present day is merely the lingering echo of prejudice, and is quite inapplicable now-a-days to the light and elegant production of the scientific _corsetière_. as a medical man (and not one of the old school) i feel perfectly justified in saying that ladies who are content with a moderate application of the corset may secure that most elegant female charm, a slender waist", without fear of injury to health. "medicus." a great number of ladies who, by the systematic use of the corset, have had their waists reduced to the fashionable standard, are to be constantly met in society. the great majority declare that they have in no way suffered in health from the treatment they had been subjected to. _vide_ the following letter from the _queen_ of july , :-- "madam,--as i have for a long time been a constant reader of the _lady's journal_, i venture to ask you if you, or any of your valuable correspondents, will kindly tell me if it is true that small waists are again coming into fashion generally? i am aware that they cannot be said to have gone out of fashion altogether, for one often sees very slender figures; but i think during the last few years they have been less thought of than formerly. i have heard, however, from several sources, and by the public prints, that they are again to be _la mode_. now i fortunately possess a figure which will, i hope, satisfy the demand of fashion in this respect. what is the smallest-sized waist that one can have? mine is sixteen and a-half inches, and, i have heard, is considered small. i do not believe what is said against the corset, though i admit that if a girl is an invalid, or has a very tender constitution, too sudden a reduction of the waist may be injurious. with a waist which is, i believe, considered small, i can truly say i have good health. if all that was said against the corset were true, how is it so many ladies live to an advanced age? a friend of mine has lately died at the age of eighty-six, who has frequently told me anecdotes of how in her young days she was laced cruelly tight, and at the age of seventeen had a waist fifteen inches. yet she was eighty-six when she died. i know that it has been so long the habit of public journals to take their example from medical men (who, i contend, are not the best judges in the matter) in running down the corset, and the very legitimate, and, if properly employed, harmless mode of giving a graceful slenderness to the figure, that i can hardly expect that at present you will have courage to take the part of the ladies. but i beg you to be so kind as to tell me what you know of the state of the fashion as regards the length and size of the waist, and whether my waist would be considered small. also what is the smallest-sized waist known among ladies of fashion. by doing this in an early number you will very much oblige, "yours, &c., "constance." the foregoing letter was followed on the th of the same month by one from another correspondent to the same paper, fully bearing out the truth of the view therein contained, and at the same time showing the system adopted in many of the french finishing schools:-- "madam,--as a constant reader of your highly-interesting and valuable paper, i have ventured to reply to a letter under the above heading from your correspondent constance, contained in your last week's impression. in reply to her first question, there is little doubt, i think, that slender and long waists will ere long be _la mode_. ladies of fashion here who are fortunate enough to possess such enviable and graceful attractions, take most especial care by the arrangement of their toilets to show them off to the very best advantage. a waist of sixteen and a-half-inches would, i am of opinion, be considered, for a lady of fair average size and stature, small enough to satisfy even the most exacting of fashion's votaries. the question as to how small one's waist can be is rather hard to answer, and i am not aware that any standard has yet been laid down on the subject, but an application to any of our fashionable corset-makers for the waist measurement of the smallest sizes made would go far to clear the point up. many of the corsets worn at our late brilliant assemblies were about the size of your correspondent's, and some few, i have been informed, even less. i beg to testify most fully to the truth of the remarks made by constance as to the absurdly-exaggerated statements (evidently made by persons utterly ignorant of the whole matter) touching the dreadfully injurious effects of the corset on the female constitution. my own, and a wide range of other experiences, leads me to a totally different conclusion, and i fully believe that, except in cases of confirmed disease or bad constitution, a well-made and nicely-fitting corset inflicts no more injury than a tight pair of gloves. up to the age of fifteen i was educated at a small provincial school, was suffered to run as nearly wild as could well be, and grew stout, indifferent and careless as to personal appearance, dress, manners, or any of their belongings. family circumstances and change of fortune at this time led my relatives to the conclusion that my education required a continental finish. advantage was therefore taken of the protection offered by some friends about to travel, and i was, with well-filled trunks and a great deal of good advice, packed off to a highly-genteel and fashionable establishment for young ladies, situated in the suburbs of paris. the morning after my arrival i was aroused by the clang of the 'morning bell.' i was in the act of commencing a hurried and by no means an elaborate toilet, when the under-governess, accompanied by a brisk, trim little woman, the bearer of a long cardboard case, made their appearance; corsets of various patterns, as well as silk laces of most portentous length, were at once produced, and a very short time was allowed to elapse before my experiences in the art and mystery of tight-lacing may be fairly said to have commenced. my dresses were all removed, in order that the waists should be taken in and the make altered; a frock was borrowed for me for the day, and from that hour i was subjected to the strict and rigid system of lacing in force through the whole establishment, no relaxation of its discipline being allowed during the day on any pretence whatever. for the period (nearly three years) i remained as a pupil, i may say that my health was excellent, as was that of the great majority of my young companions in 'bondage,' and on taking my departure i had grown from a clumsy girl to a very smart young lady, and my waist was exactly seven inches less than on the day of my arrival. from paris i proceeded at once to join my relatives in the island of mauritius, and on my arrival in the isle sacred to the memories of paul and virginia, i found the reign of 'queen corset' most arbitrary and absolute, but without in any way that i could discover interfering with either the health or vivacity of her exceedingly attractive and pretty subjects. before concluding, and whilst on the subject, a few words on the 'front-fastening corset,' now so generally worn, may not come amiss. after a thorough trial i have finally abandoned its use, as being imperfect and faulty in every way, excepting the very doubtful advantage of being a little more quickly put on and off. split up and open at the front as they are, and only fastening here and there, the whole of the compactness and stability so highly important in this part, of all others, of a corset is all but lost, whilst the ordinary steel busk secures these conditions, to the wearing out of the material of which the corset is composed. the long double-looped round lace used is, i consider, by no means either as neat, secure, or durable as a flat plaited silk lace of good quality. trusting these remarks and replies may prove such as required by constance, i beg to subscribe myself, "fanny." another lady writing to the _queen_ on the same subject in the month of august has a waist under sixteen inches in circumference, as will be seen by the annexed letter, and yet she declares her health to be uninjured:-- "dear madam,--i have read with interest the letters of constance and fanny on the subject of slender waists. it is so much the fashion among medical men to cry down tight-lacing that advocates are very daring who venture to uphold the practice. it has ever been in vogue among our sex, and will, i maintain, always continue so long as elegant figures are admired, for the wearing of corsets produces a grace and slenderness which nature never gives, and if the corset is discontinued or relaxed, the figure at once becomes stout and loose. the dress fits better over a close-laced corset, and the fullness of the skirts, and ease of its folds, are greatly enhanced by the slenderness of the waist. my own waist is under sixteen inches. i have always enjoyed good health. why, then, if the practice of tight-lacing is not prejudicial to the constitution of all its votaries, should we be debarred from the means of improving our appearance and attaining an elegant and graceful figure? i quite agree with fanny respecting the front-fastening corset. i consider it objectionable. the figure can never be so neat or slender as in an ordinary well-laced corset. may i inquire what has become of your correspondent mary blackbraid? her partialities for gloves and wigs brought upon her severe remarks from your numerous correspondents. i agree with her in the glove question, and always wear them as much as possible in the house. i find they keep the hands cooler, and in my opinion there is no such finish to the appearance as a well-gloved hand. where i am now staying the ladies invariably wear them, and i have heard gentlemen express their admiration of the practice. i have worn them to sleep in for some years, and never found any inconvenience. pardon me trespassing so much on your space, but your interesting paper is the only one open to our defence from the strictures of the over-particular. "eliza." the following letter from the columns of the _queen_ contains much matter bearing immediately on the subject, and will no doubt be of interest to the reader:-- "madam,--i am sure your numerous readers will thank you for your kindness in publishing so impartially the correspondence you have received on the subject of the corset, and as the question is one of great importance, and moreover one on which much difference of opinion seems to exist, i trust you will continue to give us the benefit of your correspondents' remarks. "when i read the very _àpropos_ letter of constance, and the excellent letter of fanny in reply, i was quite prepared to see in your last number some strong expressions of opinion against this most becoming fashion; but i think that they, as well as eliza, need not be discouraged by the formidable opposition they have met with, and i beg you will afford me space for a few lines, in order to refute the arguments of the anti-corset party, in your valuable journal. "much as i, in common with all your readers, delight in reading mr. frank buckland's articles, i really cannot agree with him in his view of the subject. in the first place, i really must question his authority in the matter, for i am convinced that it is only those who have experienced the comfortable support afforded by a well-made corset who are entitled to pronounce their opinion. what can mr. buckland, or any one not of the corset-wearing sex, know of the practical operation of this indispensable article of female attire? i will not attempt so arduous a task as that of disproving all that mr. combe and his professional brethren have written against tight-lacing; i am even willing to admit that there may be persons so constituted that the attainment of a graceful slenderness would be injurious; but these are the exceptions, not the rule. the remarks of the faculty are founded principally on theory, backed up by an occasional case which might very often be referred to some other cause with equal justice. but who does not know that practice often belies theory, or that theory is frequently at fault? slender waists have been in fashion for several hundred years, and for the purposes of my argument i will refer to a period thirty or forty years ago. no one then thought of questioning the absolute necessity of attaining a slender figure by the instrumentality of the corset. if, let me ask mr. buckland and your other correspondents, theory be true that torture and death are the result, how does it happen not only that there are millions of healthy middle-aged ladies among us now, but that the female population actually exceeds the male? by what wonderful means have they continued to exist and enjoy such perfect health, while such a terrible engine of destruction as the corset was at work upon their frames? if all that theory said against the corset were true, not a thousand women would now be left alive. "i cannot avoid troubling you a little further while i descend more into details. spinal curvature, it is said, is caused by wearing stays. but what kind of stays were they which produced this result, and were no other causes discernible? i think that in every instance it would be found that the stays have been badly made, that they have not been properly laced, or that the busk and materials have not been sufficiently firm. "in addition to this, girls are too often compelled to maintain an erect position on a form or a music-stool for too long a time during school hours. if the corset is properly made, a young lady may be allowed to lean back in her chair without danger of acquiring lounging habits or injuring her figure. it is to this over-tiring of the muscles that all spinal curvature is attributable, and not to the stays, which, if properly employed, would act as a sure preventative. again, let me ask any one of the opposite sex who, at any rate at the present day, do not wear stays, whether they have never experienced 'palpitation or flushings,' headaches, and red noses? what right has any one to make these special attendants on small-waisted ladies? there is no more danger of incurring these evils than by a gentleman wearing a hat. well may the old lady have 'forgotten' these little items in her anecdotes. the comparison between the human frame and a watch is correct in some respects, but it is particularly unhappy in relation to the present subject. the works of a watch are hard and unyielding, and not being possessed of life and power of growing, cannot adapt themselves to their outer case. if you squeeze in the case the works will be broken and put out of order; far different is it with the supple and growing frame of a young girl. if the various organs are prevented from taking a certain form or direction, they will accommodate themselves to any other with perfect ease. nothing is broken or interfered with in its action. i will, of course, allow that if a fully-grown woman were to attempt to reduce her waist suddenly, respiration and digestion would be stopped; but it is rarely, if ever, that a lady arrives at maturity before she has imbibed sufficient notions of elegance and propriety to induce her to conform to this becoming fashion to some extent. happy indeed those who are blessed with mothers who are wise enough to educate their daughters' figures with an eye to their future comfort. the constant discomfort felt by those whose clumsy waists and exuberant forms are a perpetual bugbear to their happiness and advancement should warn mothers of the necessity of looking to the future, and by directing their figures successfully while young, avoid the unsuccessful attempts to force them at an advanced age. one word more on the question. is a small waist admired by the gentlemen? mr. buckland, it seems, has become so imbued with mr. combe's ideas against tight-lacing, that he looks upon a slender waist with feelings evidently far from admiration. but is this any reason or authority for concluding that every gentleman of taste is of a like opinion? on the contrary, i think it goes far to prove that it is other than the younger class of gentlemen (for whom, of course, the ladies lay their attractions) who run down the corset. many times in fashionable assemblies have i heard gentlemen criticising the young ladies in such terms as these;--'what a clumsy figure miss---- is! it completely spoils her.' 'what a pity miss---- has not a neater figure!' and so on, and i believe there is not one young man in a thousand who does not admire a graceful slenderness of the waist. what young man cares to dance with girls who resemble casks in form? i have invariably noticed that the girls with the smallest waists are the queens of the ball-room. i have not space to enter into the discussion as to whether the artificial waist is more beautiful than that of the venus de medici; on such matters every one forms their own opinions. the waist of the venus is beautiful for the venus, but would cease to be so if clothed. i maintain that the comparison is not a good one, as the circumstances are not equal. in other respects, let the ladies, then, not be led to make themselves ungraceful and unattractive by listening to theories which are contradicted by practice, promulgated by persons ignorant, as far as their personal experience goes, of the operation and effect of corsets, and taken up by ladies and gentlemen, not of the youngest, who, like your country subscriber, are past the age when the pleasantest excitements of life form topics of interest. is it not natural that a young lady should be anxious to present a sylph-like form instead of appearing matronly? there are some to whom the words 'tight lacing' suggest immediately what they are pleased to term 'torture,' 'misery,' &c., but who have never taken the trouble to inquire into the subject, preferring the far easier way of taking for granted that all that has been said against it is true. when such would-be benefactors to the fair sex hear of a sudden death, or see a lady faint at a ball or a theatre, they immediately raise the cry of 'tight-lacing!' an instance occurred not long ago in which, in a public journal, the sudden death of a young lady was ascribed to this cause, but in a few days afterwards was expressly contradicted in a paragraph of the same paper. do we never hear of men dying suddenly, or fainting away from overheat? that small waists are the fashion admits of no doubt, for i have myself applied to several fashionable corset-makers in london and the principal fashionable resorts to ascertain whether it be the case. i gather from their information that small waists are most unmistakably the fashion; that there are more corsets made to order under eighteen inches than over that measurement; that the smallest size is usually fifteen inches, though few possess so elegantly small a waist, the majority being about seventeen or eighteen inches; that the ladies are now beginning to see that the front-fastening busk is not so good as the old-fashioned kind, and have their daughters' corsets well boned. many also prefer shoulder-straps for the stays of growing girls, which keep the chest expanded, and prevent their leaning too much on the busk. if these are not too tight they are very advantageous to the figure, and the upper part of the corset should just fit, but not be tight. a corset made on these principles will cause no injury to health, unless the girl is naturally of a consumptive constitution, in which case no one would think of lacing at all tightly. "i must apologise for this long letter, but i felt bound to take advantage of the opportunity you afford to discuss this really important question. "i remain, madam, yours, "admirer." chapter viii. the elegant figure of the empress of austria--slender waists the fashion in vienna--the small size of corsets frequently made in london--letter from the _queen_ on small waists--remarks on the portrait of the empress of austria in the exhibition--diminutive waist of lady morton--general remarks on the figure--remarks on figure-training by the use of stays--mode of constructing corsets for growing girls--tight-lacing abolished by the early use of well-constructed corsets--boarding-school discipline and extreme tight-lacing--letter in praise of tight corsets--letter in praise of crinoline and corsets--another letter on boarding-school discipline and figure-training--the waist of fashion contrasted with that of the venus de medici--a fashionably-dressed statue--clumsy figures a serious drawback to young ladies--letter from a lady, who habitually laces with extreme tightness, in praise of the corset--opinions of a young baronet on slender waists; letter from a family man on the same subject. as most of our readers will be aware, the much-admired empress of austria has been long celebrated for possessing a waist of sixteen inches in circumference, and a friend of ours, who has recently had unusual opportunities afforded for judging of the fashionable world of vienna, assures us that waists of equal slenderness are by no means uncommon. we are also informed by one of the first west-end corset-makers that sixteen inches is a size not unfrequently made in london. much valuable and interesting information can be gathered from the following letter from a talented correspondent of the _queen_ a few months ago:-- "corsets and small waists. "i am a constant reader of the _queen_, and look forward with anxiety for more of the very interesting letters on the corset question which you are so obliging as to insert in your paper. i know many who take as much pleasure in reading them as myself, for the subject is one on which both health and beauty greatly depend. all who visited the picture-gallery in the exhibition of must have seen an exquisitely-painted portrait of the beautiful empress of austria, and though it did not show the waist in the most favourable position, some idea may be formed of its elegant slenderness and easy grace. many were the remarks made upon it by all classes of critics while i seated myself opposite the picture for a few minutes. i should like any one who maintains that small waists are not generally admired to have taken up the position which i did for half-an-hour, and i am sure she would soon find her opinion unsupported by facts; your correspondents, however, are at fault in supposing that sixteen inches is the smallest waist that the world has almost ever known. lady babbage, in her _collection of curiosities_, tells us that in a portrait of lady morton, in the possession of lord dillon, the waist cannot exceed ten or twelve inches in circumference, and at the largest part immediately beneath the armpits not more than twenty-four, and the immense length of the figure seems to give it the appearance of even greater slenderness. catherine de medici considered the standard of perfection to be thirteen inches. it is scarcely to be supposed that any lady of the present day possesses such an absurdly small waist as thirteen inches, but i am certain that not a few could be found whose waistband does not exceed fifteen inches and three-quarters or sixteen inches. much depends on the height and width of the shoulders; narrow shoulders generally admit of a small waist, and many tall women are naturally so slender as to be able to show a small waist with very little lacing. it is needless to remark how much depends on the corset. your correspondent, a. h. turnour, says that the long corsets, if well pulled in at the waist, compress one cruelly all the way up, and cause the shoulders to deport themselves awkwardly and stiffly. now, no corset will be able to do this if constructed as it should be. i believe the great fault to be that when the corset is laced on it is very generally open an inch or so from top to bottom. the consequence of this is, that when the wearer is sitting down, and the pressure on the waist the greatest, the tendency is to pull the less tightly drawn lace at the top of the corset tighter; on changing the posture this does not right itself, and consequently an unnecessary and injurious compression round the chest is experienced. now, if the corset, when fitted, were so made that it should meet all the way, or at any rate _above_ and _below_ the waist, when laced on, this evil would be entirely avoided, and absence of compression round the upper part of the chest would give an increased appearance of slenderness to the waist and allow the lungs as much play as the waistbands. there seems to be an idea that when the corset is made to meet it gives a stiffness to the figure. in the days of buckram this might be the case, but no such effect need be feared from the light and flexible stays of the present day, and the fault which frequently leads to the fear of wearing corsets which do not meet is, that the formation of the waist is not begun early enough. the consequence of this is, that the waist has to be _compressed_ into a slender shape after it has been allowed to swell, and the stays are therefore made so as to allow of being laced tighter and tighter. now i am persuaded that much inconvenience is caused by this practice, which might be entirely avoided by the following simple plan, which i have myself tried with my own daughters, and have found to answer admirably. at the age of seven i had them fitted with stays without much bone and a flexible busk, and these were made to meet from top to bottom when laced, and so as not to exercise the least pressure round the chest and beneath the waist, and only a very _slight_ pressure at the waist, just enough to show off the figure and give it a roundness. to prevent the stays from slipping, easy shoulder-straps were added. in front, extending from the top more than half way to the waist, were two sets of lace-holes, by which the stays could be enlarged round the upper part. as my daughters grew, these permitted of my always preventing any undue pressure, but i always laced the stays so as to meet behind. when new ones were required they were made exactly the same size at the waist, but as large round the upper part as the gradual enlargement had made the former pair. they were also of course made a little longer, and the position of the shoulder-straps slightly altered; by these means their figures were directed instead of forced into a slender shape; no inconvenience was felt, and my daughters, i am happy to say, are straight, and enjoy perfect health, while the waist of the eldest is eighteen inches, and that of the youngest seventeen. i am convinced that my plan is the most reasonable one that can be adopted. by this means '_tight-lacing_' will be abolished, for no tight-lacing or compression is required, and the child, being accustomed to the stays from an early age, does not experience any of the inconveniences which are sometimes felt by those who do not adopt them till twelve or fourteen. "a former correspondent (edinburgh)." the advisability of training instead of forcing the figure into slenderness is now becoming almost universally admitted by those who have paid any attention to the subject; yet it appears from the following letters, which appeared in the _englishwoman's domestic magazine_ of january and february, , that the corset, even when employed at a comparatively late period of life, is capable of reducing the size of the waist in an extraordinary manner, without causing the serious consequences which it has so long been the custom to associate with the practice of tight-lacing. a tight-lacer expresses herself to the following effect:--"most of your correspondents advocate the early use of the corset as the best means to secure a slender waist. no doubt this is the best and most easy mode, but still i think there are many young ladies who have never worn tight stays who might have small waists even now if they would only give themselves the trouble. i did not commence to lace tightly until i was married, nor should i have done so then had not my husband been so particularly fond of a small waist; but i was determined not to lose one atom of his affection for the sake of a little trouble. i could not bear to think of him liking any one else's figure better than mine, consequently, although my waist measured twenty-three inches, i went and ordered a pair of stays, made very strong and filled with stiff bone, measuring only fourteen inches round the waist. these, with the assistance of my maid, i put on, and managed the first day to lace my waist in to eighteen inches. at night i slept in my corset without loosing the lace in the least. the next day my maid got my waist to seventeen inches, and so on, an inch smaller every day, until she got them to meet. i wore them regularly without ever taking them off, having them tightened afresh every day, as the laces might stretch a little. they did not open in front, so that i could not undo them if i had wanted. for the first few days the pain was very great, but as soon as the stays were laced close, and i had worn them so for a few days, i began to care nothing about it, and in a month or so i would not have taken them off on any account, for i quite enjoyed the sensation, and when i let my husband see me with a dress to fit i was amply repaid for my trouble; and although i am now grown older, and the fresh bloom of youth is gone from my cheek, still my figure remains the same, which is a charm age will not rob me of. i have never had cause to regret the step i took." another lady says--"a correspondent in the october number of your magazine states that her waist is only thirteen inches round, but she does not state her height. my waist is only twelve inches round; but then, although i am eighteen years old, i am only four feet five inches in height, so that my waist is never noticed as small; while my elder sister (whose height is five feet eight inches) is considered to have a very nice figure, though her waist is twenty-three inches round. i am glad to have an opportunity of expressing my opinions on the subject of tight-lacing. i quite agree with those who think it perfectly necessary with the present style of dress (which style i hope is likely to continue). i believe every one admires the effect of tight-lacing, though they may not approve in theory. my father always used to declaim loudly against stays of any kind, so my sister and i were suffered to grow up without any attention being paid to our figures, and with all our clothes made perfectly loose, till my sister was eighteen and i fifteen years old, when papa, after accompanying us to some party, made some remarks on the clumsiness of our figures, and the ill-fitting make of our dresses. fortunately, it was not too late. mamma immediately had well-fitting corsets made for us, and as we were both anxious to have small waists we tightened each other's laces four and five times a day for more than a year; now we only tighten them (after the morning) when we are going to a party." as it has been most justly remarked, no description of evidence can be so conclusive as that of those whose daily and hourly experience brings them in contact with the matter under discussion, and we append here a letter from a correspondent to the _englishwoman's domestic magazine_ of may, , giving her boarding-school experience in the matter of extreme tight-lacing:-- nora says--"i venture to trouble you with a few particulars on the subject of 'tight-lacing,' having seen a letter in your march number inviting correspondence on the matter. i was placed at the age of fifteen at a fashionable school in london, and there it was the custom for the waists of the pupils to be reduced one inch per month until they were what the lady principal considered small enough. when i left school at seventeen, my waist measured only thirteen inches, it having been formerly twenty-three inches in circumference. every morning one of the maids used to come to assist us to dress, and a governess superintended to see that our corsets were drawn as tight as possible. after the first few minutes every morning i felt no pain, and the only ill effects apparently were occasional headaches and loss of appetite. i should be glad if you will inform me if it is possible for girls to have a waist of fashionable size and yet preserve their health. very few of my fellow-pupils appeared to suffer, except the pain caused by the extreme tightness of the stays. in one case where the girl was stout and largely built, two strong maids were obliged to use their utmost force to make her waist the size ordered by the lady principal--viz., seventeen inches--and though she fainted twice while the stays were being made to meet, she wore them without seeming injury to her health, and before she left school she had a waist measuring only fourteen inches, yet she never suffered a day's illness. generally all the blame is laid by parents on the principal of the school, but it is often a subject of the greatest rivalry among the girls to see which can get the smallest waist, and often while the servant was drawing in the waist of my friend to the utmost of her strength, the young lady, though being tightened till she had hardly breath to speak, would urge the maid to pull the stays yet closer, and tell her not to let the lace slip in the least. i think this is a subject which is not sufficiently understood. though i have always heard tight-lacing condemned, i have never suffered any ill effects myself, and, as a rule, our school was singularly free from illness. by publishing this side of the question in the _englishwoman's domestic magazine_ you will greatly oblige." cases like the foregoing are most important and remarkable, as they show most indisputably that loss of health is not so inseparably associated with even the most unflinching application of the corset as the world has been led to suppose. it rather appears that although a very considerable amount of inconvenience and uneasiness is experienced by those who are unaccustomed to the reducing and restraining influences of the corset, when adopted at rather a late period of growth, they not only in a short time cease to suffer, but of their own free will continue the practice and become partial to it. thus writes an edinburgh lady, who incloses her card, to the _englishwoman's domestic magazine_ of march, :-- "i have been abroad for the last four years, during which i left my daughter at a large and fashionable boarding-school near london. i sent for her home directly i arrived, and, having had no bad accounts of her health during my absence, i expected to see a fresh rosy girl of seventeen come bounding to welcome me. what, then, was my surprise to see a tall, pale young lady glide slowly in with measured gait and languidly embrace me; when she had removed her mantle i understood at once what had been mainly instrumental in metamorphosing my merry romping girl to a pale fashionable belle. her waist had, during the four years she had been at school, been reduced to such absurdly small dimensions that i could easily have clasped it with my two hands. 'how could you be so foolish,' i exclaimed, 'as to sacrifice your health for the sake of a fashionable figure?' 'please don't blame me, mamma,' she replied, 'i assure you i would not have voluntarily submitted to the torture i have suffered for all the admiration in the world.' she then told me how the most merciless system of tight-lacing was the rule of the establishment, and how she and her forty or fifty fellow-pupils had been daily imprisoned in vices of whalebone drawn tight by the muscular arms of sturdy waiting-maids, till the fashionable standard of tenuity was attained. the torture at first was, she declared, often intolerable; but all entreaties were vain, as no relaxation of the cruel laces was allowed during the day under any pretext except decided illness. 'but why did you not complain to me at first?' i inquired. 'as soon as i found to what a system of torture i was condemned,' she replied, 'i wrote a long letter to you describing my sufferings, and praying you to take me away. but the lady principal made it a rule to revise all letters sent by, or received by, the pupils, and when she saw mine she not only refused to let it pass, but punished me severely for rebelling against the discipline of the school.' 'at least you will now obtain relief from your sufferings,' i exclaimed, 'for you shall not go back to that school any more.' on attempting to discontinue the tight-lacing, however, my daughter found that she had been so weakened by the severe pressure of the last four years that her muscles were powerless to support her, and she has therefore been compelled to lace as tight as ever, or nearly so. she says, however, that she does not suffer much inconvenience now, or, indeed, after the first two years--so wonderful is the power of nature to accommodate herself to circumstances. the mischief is done; her muscles have been, so to speak, murdered, and she must submit for life to be incased in a stiff panoply of whalebone and steel, and all this torture and misery for what?--merely to attract admiration for her small waist. i called on the lady principal of the establishment the next day, and was told that very few ladies objected to their daughters having their figures improved, that small waists were just now as fashionable as ever, and that no young lady could go into good society with a coarse, clumsy waist like a rustic, that she had always given great satisfaction by her system, which she assured me required unremitting perseverance and strictness, owing to the obstinacy of young girls, and the difficulty of making them understand the importance of a good figure. finding that i could not touch the heart of this female inquisitor, who was so blinded by fashion, i determined to write to you and inform your readers of the system adopted in fashionable boarding-schools, so that if they do not wish their daughters tortured into wasp-waisted invalids they may avoid sending them to schools where the corset-screw is an institution of the establishment." and on the appearance of her letter it was replied to by another lady, who writes as follows:-- "in reply to the invitation from the lady from edinburgh to a discussion on the popular system amongst our sex of compression of the waist, when requisite to attain elegance of figure, i beg to say that i am inclined, from the tone of her letter, to consider her an advocate of the system she at first sight appears to condemn. this conviction of mine may arise from my own partiality to the practice of tight-lacing, but the manner in which she puts the question almost inclines me to believe that she is, as a corset-maker, financially interested in the general adoption of the corset-screw. her account of the whole affair seems so artificial, so made up for a purpose, so to speak, that i, for one, am inclined to totally discredit it. a waist 'easily clasped with two hands.' ye powers! what perfection! how delightful! i declare that ever since i read that i have worn a pair of stays that i had rejected for being too small for me, as they did not quite meet behind (and i can't bear a pair that i cannot closely lace), and have submitted to an extra amount of muscular exertion from my maid in order to approach, if ever so distantly, the delightful dimensions of two handsful. then, again, how charmingly she insinuates that if we will only persevere, only submit to a short probationary period of torture, the hated compression (but desired attenuation) will have become a second nature to us, that not only will it not inconvenience us, but possibly we shall be obliged, for comfort's sake itself, to continue the practice. now, madam, as a part of the present whole of modern dress, every one must admit that a slender waist is a great acquisition, and from my own experience and the experience of several young lady friends similarly addicted to guide me, i beg to pronounce the so-called evils of tight-lacing to be a mere bugbear and so much cant. every woman has the remedy in her own hands. if she feels the practice to be an injury to her, she can but discontinue it at any time. to me the sensation of being tightly laced in a pair of elegant, well-made, tightly-fitting corsets is superb, and i have never felt any evil to arise therefrom. i rejoice in quite a collection of these much-abused objects--in silk, satin, and coutil of every style and colour--and never feel prouder or happier, so far as matters of the toilette are concerned, than when i survey in myself the fascinating undulations of outline. "staylace." then follows a letter rather calculated to cast doubt on the subject of the sufferings of the young lady whose case has been described, from a lady who, although possessing a small waist, knows nothing of them. thus she writes:-- "please let me join in the all-absorbing discussion you have introduced at the englishwoman's monthly conversazione, and let me first thank staylace for her capital letter. i quite agree with her in suspecting the story of the young lady at the boarding-school to be overdrawn a little. would the young lady herself oblige us with a description of her 'tortures,' as i and several of my friends who follow the present fashion of small waists are curious to know something of them, having never experienced these terrible sufferings, though my waistband measures only eighteen inches? the truth is, there are always a number of fussy middle-aged people who (with the best intentions, no doubt) are always abusing some article of female dress. the best of it is, these benevolent individuals are usually of that sex whose costume precludes them from making a personal trial of the articles they condemn. now it is the crinoline which draws forth their indignant outcries, now the corset, and now the chignon. they know not from their own experience how the crinoline relieves us from the weight of many under-skirts, and prevents them from clinging to us while walking, and they have never felt the comfortable support of a well-made corset. yet they decry the use of the first as unaccountable, and of the second as suicidal. let me tell them, however, that the ladies themselves judge from practice and not from theory, and if the opponents of the corset require proof of this, let me remind them that compression of the waist has been more or less universal throughout the civilised world for three or four centuries, in spite of reams of paper and gallons of printing-ink. i may add that, for my own part, i have always laced tightly, and have always enjoyed good health. allow me to recommend ladies to have their corsets made to measure, and if they do not feel they suffer any inconvenience, they may certainly take the example of your clever correspondent staylace, and look upon the outcry as a 'bugbear and so much cant.' "belle." thus called on, the young lady herself writes and confirms, as it will be seen, the statements of others, that the late use of the corset is the main source of pain on its first adoption; and the statement she makes that her waist is so much admired that she sometimes forgets the pain passed through in attaining it, coupled with the confession that she is not in ill-health, gives her letter strong significance. here it is in its integrity:-- "in last month's number of your valuable magazine you were kind enough to publish a letter from my mamma on the subject of tight-lacing, and as your correspondent staylace says she is inclined to think the whole story made up for a purpose, mamma has requested me to write and confirm what she stated in her letter. it seems wonderful to me how your correspondent can lace so tightly and never feel any inconvenience. it may be, very likely, owing to her having begun very young. in my case i can only say i suffered sometimes perfect torture from my stays, especially after dinner, not that i ate heartily, for that i found impossible, even if we had been allowed to do so by our schoolmistress, who considered it unladylike. the great difference between your correspondent staylace and myself seems to be that she was incased in corsets at an early age, and thus became gradually accustomed to tight-lacing, while i did not wear them till i went to school at fourteen, and i did not wear them voluntarily. of course it is impossible to say whether i underwent greater pressure than she has. i think i must have done so, for my waist had grown large before it was subjected to the lacing, and had to be reduced to its present tenuity, whereas, if she began stays earlier, that would have prevented her figure from growing so large. perhaps staylace will be so kind as to say whether she began stays early, or at any rate before fourteen, and what is the size of her waist and her height? one reason why she does not feel any inconvenience from tight corsets may be that, when she feels disposed, she may loosen them, and thus prevent any pain from coming on. but when i was at school i was not allowed to loosen them in the least, however much they distressed me, so that what was in the morning merely a feeling of irksome pressure, became towards the end of the day a regular torture. i quite admit that slender waists are beautiful--in fact, my own waist is so much admired that i sometimes forget the pain i underwent in attaining it. i am also quite ready to confess i am not in ill-health, though i often feel languid and disinclined for walking out. nor do i think a girl whose constitution is sound would suffer any injury to her health from moderate lacing, but i must beg that you will allow me to declare that when stays are not worn till fourteen years of age, very tight lacing causes absolute torture for the first few months, and it was principally to deter ladies from subjecting their daughters to this pain in similar cases that mamma wrote to you. i am sure any young lady who has (like myself) begun tight-lacing rather late will corroborate what i have said, and i hope some will come forward and do so, now you so kindly give the opportunity." much ill-deserved blame has been from time to time cast on the lady principals of fashionable schools for insisting on the strict use of the corset by the young ladies in their charge. the following letter from a schoolmistress of great experience, and another from a young lady who has finished her education at a fashionable boarding-school, will at once serve to show that the measures adopted by the heads of these establishments for the obtainment of elegant figures are in the end fully appreciated by those who have been fortunate enough to profit by them. a schoolmistress correspondent says--"as a regular subscriber to your valuable magazine, i see you have invited your numerous readers to discuss the subject brought forward by a correspondent in edinburgh, and as the principal of a large ladies' school in that city, i feel sure you will kindly allow me space to say a few words in reply to her letter. in the first place it must be apparent that your correspondent committed a great mistake in placing her daughter at a fashionable school if she did not wish her to become a fashionable belle, or she should at least have given instructions that her daughter should not have her figure trained in what every one knows is the fashionable style. for my own part i have always paid particular attention to the figures of the young ladies intrusted to my care, and being fully convinced that if the general health is properly attended to, corsets are far from being the dreadfully hurtful things some people imagine. i have never hesitated to employ this most important and elegant article of dress, except in one case where the pupil was of a consumptive tendency, and i was specially requested not to allow her to dress at all tightly. all my pupils enjoy good health, my great secret being regular exercise, a point which is almost always disregarded. it appears from your correspondent's letter that the young lady did not experience any inconvenience after the first two years she was at the school, nor does her mother say her health was affected. she only complains that she is no longer a 'romping girl.' now, no young lady of eighteen who expects to move in fashionable society would wish to be thought a romping schoolgirl. with regard to the slight pain in the muscles which the young lady described as 'torture,' this was no doubt caused by her not having been accustomed by degrees to a close-fitting dress before she went to the school. i find that girls who have commenced the use of stays at an early age, and become gradually used to them, do not experience any uneasiness when they are worn tighter at fourteen or fifteen. there can be no doubt that a slender figure is as much admired as ever, and always will be so. the present fashion of short waists is admitted on all hands to be very ugly, and will soon go out. those girls, then, who have not had their figures properly attended to while growing will be unable to reduce their waists when the fashion changes, whereas, by proper care now, they will be able to adopt the fashion of longer waists without any inconvenience. i trust you will allow us schoolmistresses fair play in this important matter, and insert this, or part of it, in your magazine." mignon says--"dear mrs. englishwoman,--i beg--i pray--that you will not close your delightful conversazione to the tight-lacing question: it is an absorbing one; hundreds, thousands of your young lady readers are deeply interested in this matter, and the subscribers to your excellent magazine are increasing daily, to my own knowledge, by reason of this interesting controversy; pray wait a little, and you will see how the tight-lacers and their gentlemen admirers will rally round the banner that has been unfurled. there is an attempt being made to introduce the hideous fashion of the 'empire,' as it is called. why should we, who have been disciplined at home and at school, and laced tighter and tighter month after month, until our waists have become 'small by degrees and beautifully less,' be expected to hide our figures (which we know are admired) under such atrocious drapery? my stay and dress maker both tell me that it is only the ill-formed and waistless ones that have taken to the fashion; such, of course, are well pleased, and will have no objection to have their waistbands as high as their armpits. angular and rigid figures have always pretended to sneer at tight-lacers, but any one of them would give half, nay, their whole fortune to attain to such small dimensions as some of your correspondents describe. i shall keep my waist where nature has placed it, and where art has improved it, for my own comfort, and because a certain friend has said that he never could survive if it were any larger or shorter. my waist remains just as it was a year and a-half ago, when i left school, where in the course of three years it was by imperceptible degrees laced from twenty to fifteen inches, not only without injury to health but with great satisfaction and comfort to myself." it has been much the fashion amongst those who have written in condemnation of the use of the corset to contrast the figure of the venus de medici with that of a fashionably-dressed lady of the present day; but the comparison is anything but a happy one, as it would be quite as reasonable to insist that because the sandalled and stockingless foot of the lady of ancient greece was statuesque in contour when forming a portion of a statue, it should be substituted for the fashionable boot or slipper and silk stocking of the present day. that perfection itself in the sculptor's art when draped in fashionable attire would become supremely grotesque and ridiculous was not long since fully proved by actual experiment. a former contributor to the columns of the _queen_, who at one time followed the medical profession, felt so convinced of the claims to admiration possessed by the classic order of form, that he obtained a copy of the greek slave, and had it draped by a first-rate milliner, who made use of all the modern appliances of the toilet, corset and crinoline included. the result was that dress made a perfect fright of her, and the disappointed experimentalist candidly confessed that he did not like her half as well as he had done. the waist was disproportionately thick, and the whole _tout ensemble_ dowdy in the extreme. no fallacy can be greater than to apply the rules of ancient art to modern costume. thus writes an artist in the _englishwoman's domestic magazine_ of september, :-- "i do not for a moment deny the truth of your artist correspondent's assertions, for i consider, as every one must, that the proportions of the human body are the most beautiful in creation (where all is beautiful and correct), but the great mistake which so many make is this. in civilised countries the body is always clothed; and that clothing, especially of the ladies of european nations, completely hides the contour of the body. the effect of this is to give great clumsiness to the waist when that part of the person is of its natural size. let any one make a fair and unprejudiced trial, such as this: let him get a statuette of some celebrated antique, the venus de medici or the greek slave, and have it dressed in an ordinary dress of the present day, and see what the effect really is. until fashion, in its ever-changing round, returns to the costume of ancient greece or rome, we can never expect to persuade ladies not to compress their waists merely on the score of beauty; and as several of your correspondents have shown that a moderate compression is not so injurious as some supposed, there is no chance of the corset becoming an obsolete article of female dress. it has been in use for seven or eight hundred years, and now that its form and construction are so much modified and improved, there need be no longer an outcry against it; indeed, outcry has for centuries failed to affect it, though other articles of dress have become in their turn obsolete, a clear proof that there is something more than mere arbitrary fashion in its hold upon the fair sex." another gentleman, not an artist, but whose sisters now suffer from all the annoyances consequent on clumsy, ill-trained figures, thus writes to the _englishwoman's domestic magazine_ of september, :-- "though the subject on which i propose to address to you a few observations hardly concerns a man, i hope you will allow me a little space in your excellent journal to express my views upon it. i have been much interested by reading the correspondence on the subject of slender waists, and the means used for attaining them. now, there can be no doubt that gentlemen admire those figures the most which have attained the greatest slenderness. i think there is no more deplorable sight than a large and clumsy waist; and as nature, without assistance from art, seldom produces a really small waist, i think those mothers and schoolmistresses who insist upon their daughters or pupils between the ages of ten and seventeen wearing well-made corsets, and having them tightly laced, confer upon the young ladies a great benefit, which, though they may not appreciate at the time, they will when they go out into society. certainly some of your correspondents seem to have fallen into the hands of schoolmistresses thoroughly aware of the advantages of a good figure--a waist that two hands can easily clasp is certainly a marvel. i never had the good fortune to see such a one, yet one of your correspondents assures us that her daughter's was no larger than that. nora, too, says that her waist only measured thirteen inches when she left school; this seems to me to be miraculously small. most gentlemen do not think much about the means used for attaining a fashionable figure, and i should not have done so either if i had not heard it a good deal discussed in my family, where my sisters were never allowed to lace at all tightly, the consequence of which is, that now that they are grown up they have very clumsy figures, much to their regret; but it is too late to alter them now. as doctors seem to think that the dangers of tight-lacing have been much exaggerated, and as i know many ladies with very slender waists enjoying quite as good health as their more strongly built sisters, i would urge upon all who wish to have good figures not to be deterred by alarmists from endeavouring gradually to attain an elegant shape." it is most remarkable that, notwithstanding the number of letters which have been published casting condemnation and ridicule on those who wear corsets, not one can we discover containing the personal experiences of those who have been anything but temporary sufferers from even their extreme use, whilst such letters as the following, which appeared in the _englishwoman's domestic magazine_ of august, , are of a nature to lead to the conclusion that unless the germs of disease of some kind are rooted in the system, a well-made and perfectly-fitting corset may be worn with impunity, even when habitually laced with considerable tightness. the lady thus gives her own experiences and those of her daughters:-- "from the absence of any correspondence on the all-important topic of tight-lacing in your august number, i very much fear that the subject has come to an end. if so, many other subscribers besides myself will be very sorry for it. i cannot tell you what pleasure it gave me to see the sentiments that were expressed by so many who, like myself, are addicted to the practice of tight-lacing, and as for many years i have been in the habit of lacing extremely tight, i trust that you will allow me, by inserting this or part of it, to make known that i have never suffered any pain or illness from it. in the days when i was a schoolgirl, stays were worn much stiffer and higher than the flimsy things now used, and were, besides, provided with shoulder-straps, so that to be very tightly incased in them was a much more serious affair than at the present day.[ ] but, nevertheless, i remember our governess would insist on the greatest possible amount of constriction being used, and always twice a day our stays were tightened still more. a great amount of exercise was inculcated, which perhaps did away with any ill effects this extreme tight-lacing might have occasioned, but while at school i imbibed a liking for the practice, and have ever since insisted on my maid lacing me as tightly as she possibly can. i quite agree with staylace in saying that to be tightly laced in a pair of tight-fitting stays is a most superb sensation. my two daughters, aged respectively sixteen and eighteen, are brought up in the same way, and would not consider themselves properly dressed unless their stays were drawn together. they can bear me out in my favourable opinion of tight-lacing, and their good health speaks volumes in its praise. i hope, madam, you will kindly insert this letter in your valuable and largely-circulated magazine." [ ] fairholt remarks, in speaking of the discipline observed in schools during the reign of george iii.--"it was the fashion to educate girls in stiffness of manner at all public schools, and particularly to cultivate a fall of the shoulders and an upright set of the bust. the top of the steel stay busk had a long stocking-needle attached to it to prevent girls from spoiling their shape by stooping too much over their needlework. this i have heard from a lady since dead who had often felt these gentle hints and lamented their disuse." many opponents to the use of the corset have strongly urged the somewhat weak argument, that ladies with slender waists are not generally admired by the gentlemen. that question has been ably dealt with in one or two of the preceding letters from ladies, and it is but fair to them that the opinions of both the young and old of the male sex (candidly communicated to the columns of the _englishwoman's domestic magazine_) should be added to the weight of evidence in favour of almost universal admiration for a slender and well-rounded waist. thus writes a young baronet in the number for october, :-- "as you have given your readers the benefit of another correspondent's excellent letter will you kindly allow another member of the sterner sex to give his opinion on the subject of small waists? those who have endeavoured to abolish this most becoming fashion have not hesitated to declare that gentlemen do not care for a slender figure, but that, on the contrary, their only feeling on beholding a waist of eighteen inches is one of pity and contempt. now so far from this being the case, there is not one gentleman in a thousand who is not charmed with the sight. elderly gentlemen, no doubt, may be found who look upon such things as 'vanity and vexation of spirit;' but is it for these that young ladies usually cultivate their charms? there is one suggestion i should be glad to make if you will permit me, and that is that all those ladies who possess that most elegant attraction, a slender waist, should not hide it so completely by shawls or loose paletots when on the promenade or in the street. when by good-luck i chance to meet a lady who has the good taste, i may say the kindness, to show her tapering waist by wearing a close-fitting paletot, i not unfrequently turn to admire, and so far from thinking of the means used to obtain the result, i am held spellbound by the beauty of the figure." that elderly gentlemen are by no means as indifferent to the attractions of elegant slenderness as our young correspondent supposes, will be best shown by a letter from a family man on the subject, communicated to the above journal, november, . he says-- "i have read with much interest the correspondence on the above subject in the englishwoman's conversazione for several months past, having accidentally met with one of the numbers of your magazine in a friend's house, and have since regularly taken it, although not previously a subscriber. as an ardent admirer of small waists in ladies, i wish to record for the satisfaction of those who possess them the fact, which is sometimes disputed, that the pains bestowed in attaining a slender figure are _not_ in vain so far as we gentlemen are concerned, and some of us are positively absurd in our excessive admiration of this particular female beauty. poets and novelists are perpetually introducing heroines with tiny waists and impossible feet, and if they are to portray female loveliness in all its attributes, they could not well omit two _such essential_ points, and i take it their ideal is not an unfair criterion of the taste of the public at large. i am delighted to learn from very clear evidence put forward by your many correspondents that 'small waists' are attainable by most ladies at little or no inconvenience, and that those of the clumsier build are willing to suffer a certain amount of pain if necessary in reducing their bulky figures to graceful proportions, and, above all, that this can be done without injury to health, for after all it would be a dearly-purchased charm if health were sacrificed. some fifteen or twenty years ago, i recollect the word '_stays_' was uttered as though a certain amount of disgrace attached to the wearer, and '_tight-lacing_' was looked on as a crime; but i am glad to see that a reaction is setting in, and that ladies are not afraid to state openly that 'they lace _very_ tightly,' and many of them declare the sensation of being laced as tightly as possible as positively a _pleasurable one_. i may say that personally i feel that every lady of my acquaintance, or with whom i may come in contact, who does so places me under a direct obligation. i will go further than your correspondent, a young baronet, and say that whenever i meet a young lady who possesses the charm of a small waist, and has the good taste to wear the tight-fitting dress now fashionable for the promenade, i make it a point to see her pretty figure more than once, and have often gone considerably out of my way to do so. although married years and years ago, i am still a slave to a '_little waist_,' and i am proud to say my wife humours my whim, and her waist is decidedly a small one. i will, therefore, add my experience to that of others (more competent to give an opinion, having experienced tight-lacing in their own proper persons), and state that she never enjoyed better health than when her waist was the smallest, and i shall be much disappointed if her daughters, when they '_come out_' do not emulate their mother's slender figure. by keeping your conversazione open to the advocates of tight-lacing, and thoroughly ventilating the subject, you will, in my opinion, confer a benefit on the rising generation of young ladies, whose mammas, in too many instances, are so _prejudiced_ against the use of the corset that they permit their daughters to grow up into clumsy, awkward young women, to their own disgust and great detriment in the matrimonial market. "i am, madam, your obedient servant, "benedict." [illustration] [illustration: the fashion of .] chapter ix. the elegance of dress mainly dependent on the corset--fashion and dress of --the short-waisted dresses and trains of --tight corsets needed for short waists--letter on the figure--description of a peculiar form of corset worn by some ladies of fashion in france--proportions of the figure and size of the waist considered--the point at which the waist should be formed--remarks of the older writers on stays--corsets and high-heeled shoes denounced--alarming diseases said to be produced by wearing high-heeled shoes--mortality amongst the female sex not on the increase--extraordinary statistics of the corset trade--the corset of the present day contrasted with that of the olden time. we could very easily add letters enough to occupy the remaining portion of this work, all incontestably proving that slender waists _are_, notwithstanding that which some few writers have urged to the contrary, held in high esteem by the great majority of the sterner sex. without the aid of the corset, it has been very fairly argued, no dress of the present day could be worn, unless its fair possessor was willing to submit to the withering contempt of merciless society. the annexed illustration represents a lady dressed in the fashion of the close of , and there are few who would be unwilling to admit its elegance and good taste. one glance at the contour of the figure is sufficient to show the full influence of the modern form of corset on the adjustment of this style of costume, and it would be a waste of both time and space to represent the figure in its uncultivated form similarly arrayed. in , we find a strong tendency towards the short waists, low dresses, and long trailing trains of old times, and we are forcibly reminded, when contemplating the passing caprice, of the lines from a parody on the "banks of banna"-- "shepherds, i have lost my waist. have you seen my body?" still the waist is by no means suffered to remain _perdu_, but, as in , has to be laced with very considerable tightness to compensate the eye for its loss of taperness and length. the annexed illustration represents a lady of fashion of , and it would be a perfect work of supererogation to ask our readers how a lady so dressed would look "unlaced and unconfined." the ladies themselves are by far the best judges of the matter, and the following letter from the _englishwoman's domestic magazine_ will show that the corset has to play an important part in the now-existing style of dress. thus writes a lady who signs herself edina:-- "allow me to occupy a small portion of your valuable space with the subject of stays. i quite agree with a young baronet that all those ladies who possess that most elegant attraction, a slender waist, should not hide it so completely by shawls whenever they promenade. excuse my offering a few remarks to facilitate that desirable object, a handsome figure. ladies, when dressing for the afternoon walk or ride, or the evening display, when putting on their stays at first, should not lace them quite tight; in about a quarter of an hour they might again tighten them, and in the course of half-an-hour or so lace them to the requisite tightness. they may fancy in this way there is no sudden compression of the waist, and the figure gets more easily accustomed to tight-lacing. occasionally, in france, ladies who are very particular about their figures have their corsets made in three pieces, laced down the sides as well as behind, and cut away over the hips; the holes for the laces are very numerous and close together. this form of corset offers great facilities for the most perfect adjustment to the figure, as well as power of tight-lacing when required, and perfect ease in walking or dancing. i may add that, in order to insure a good fit and to keep it properly in its place, the busk in front, and the whalebones behind, are made somewhat longer than the present fashion. perhaps the lady in your september number, who signs herself an inveterate tight-lacer, might find a trial of a corset made in this form a great boon as well as a comfort in tight-lacing." practical hints such as these will not fail to be of interest to the reader. numerous inquiries, as will be seen on reference to the foregoing correspondence, have been made as to what circumference the waist should be to meet the requirements of elegance. [illustration: the fashion of ] it must be borne in mind, when dealing with this question, that height and breadth of shoulder have much to do with proportionate slenderness of waist. a lady who is tall and wide-shouldered would appear very neatly shaped with a waist laced to twenty or twenty-one inches, whilst with a slight, narrow form of figure that size would carry the appearance of much clumsiness with it. madame la sante says--"a waist may vary in circumference from seventeen to twenty-three inches, according to the general proportions of the figure, and yet appear in all cases slender and elegant." we have abundant evidence before us, however, that seventeen inches is by no means the lowest standard of waist-measure to be met with in the fashionable circles of either london, new york, paris, or vienna. numbers of corsets sixteen inches at the waist, and even less, are made in each of these cities every day. in the large provincial towns, both at home and abroad, corset-makers follow out the rules laid down by fashion. we are disposed to think, therefore, dealing with the evidence before us, that a lady of medium stature and average breadth of shoulder would be subscribing to the laws of fashionable taste if the circumference of her waist was not more than from seventeen to nineteen inches, measuring outside the dress. fashion has indulged in some strange freaks regarding the length and position of the waist, as a reference to many of the illustrations will show, but its true position can be laid down so clearly that no doubt need remain on the matter. a line drawn midway between the hip and the lowest rib gives the exact point from which the tapering form of the waist should spring, and by keeping this rule in view it appears the statement made by so many ladies (that provided ample space is allowed for the chest the waist may be laced to an extreme of smallness without injury) has much truth to support it. the contributors to works of popular instruction even in our own day are very lavish in their denunciations of the practice of wearing corsets, and, following in the track of the ancient writers on the same subject, muster such a deadly and tremendously formidable array of ailments, failings, and diseases as inseparably associated with the wearing of that particular article of attire, that the very persons for whom these terrors are invoked, seeing from their own daily experience how overdrawn they are and how little knowledge their authors show about the subject, laugh the whole matter to scorn and follow the fashion. we have now before us a very talented and well-conducted journal, in which there are some sweeping blows at the use of both corsets and high-heeled boots or shoes, and, as an instance of the frightfully severe way in which the ladies of the time ( ) laced themselves, the writer assures us that he had actually seen a young lady's waist-belt which measured exactly "_twenty-two_ inches," "showing that the _chest_ to which it was applied had been reduced to a diameter (allowing for clothes) of little more than seven inches." the chest is thus shown as being about one inch less than the waist. now, in it must have been a very eccentric lady indeed who formed her waist round her _chest_, and as to the twenty-two-inch waistband, we cannot help thinking that the majority of our readers would seek one of considerably smaller size as an indication of the practice of tight-lacing in the owner. and now on the score of high-heeled boots and slippers, we are, like the immortal boy in _pickwick_, "going to make your flesh creep." in writing of these terrible engines of destruction our mentor says--"from the uneasiness and constraint experienced in the feet sympathetic affections of a dangerous kind often assail the stomach and chest, as hæmorrhage, apoplexy, and consumption. low-heeled shoes, with sufficient room for the toes, would completely prevent all such consequences." how the shareholders of life assurance companies must quake in their shoes as the smart and becoming footgear of the period meets their distracted vision at every turn! and what between the fatal high heels and waists of deadly taperness, it is a wonder that female existence can continue, and that all the policies do not fall due in less than a week, all the undertakers sink into hopeless idiocy in a day from an overwhelming press of business, and all the gentlemen engage in sanguinary encounter for the possession of the "_last woman_," who has survived the common fate by reason of her barefooted habits and of her early abandonment of stays. we do not find, as a matter of fact, that the registrar-general has his duties materially increased, or that the bills of female mortality are by any means alarming, although on a moderate calculation there are considerably over twelve million corsets in the united kingdom alone, laced with as many laces round as many waists every day in the week, with, in many instances, a little extra tension for sundays. we learn from the columns of _once a week_ that the total value of stays made for british consumption annually, cannot be less than £ , , sterling, to produce which about , , yards of material are required. the stay trade of london employs more than , in town and country, whilst the provincial firms employ about , more; of these, about , reside in london, and there is about one male to every twenty-five women. returns show that we receive every year from france and germany about , , corsets. one corset-manufacturer in the neighbourhood of stuttgard has, we are informed, over , persons in constant employment, and turns out annually about , finished corsets. messrs. thomson and co., the manufacturers of the glove-fitting corset, turn out incredible numbers from their immense manufactories in england, america, and on the continent. it will be readily conceived that the colonial demand and consumption is proportionately great. the quantity of steel annually made use of for the manufacture of stay-busks and crinolines is perfectly enormous. of the importance of the whale fishery, and the great value of whalebone, it will be needless to speak here, further than to inform our readers that more than half the whalebone which finds its way into the market is consumed by the corset-makers. silk, cotton, and wool, in very large quantities, are either spun up into laces or used in the sewing or manufacture of the corset itself. no inconsiderable quantity of timber is made use of for working up into busks. oxhorn, ebonite, gutta-percha, and hardened brass are all occasionally used for the same purpose, whilst the brass eyelet-holes, of which we shall have to say more by-and-by, are turned out in such vast and incalculable quantities, that any attempt at computing their number would be useless. it will be seen by these statistics and remarks that, unlike certain other articles of raiment which have reigned in popular esteem for a time, and then passed away, the corset has not only become an established institution throughout the whole civilised world, but is of immense commercial importance, and in rapidly-increasing demand and esteem. we shall now have to remark on some of the most noteworthy forms of the corset worn at the present day, contrasting them with those of the olden time. the steel corset-_covers_ we have already figured and described. on these contrivances being found heavy and too unbending in their construction, a form of corset was, as we have before said, contrived, which needed no cover to preserve its perfect smoothness of surface and rigidity of form; the front was therefore enriched with gold and silver tissue, and ornamented with embroidery, performing the part of both corset and stomacher, whilst the back was made of a heavier material, because the dress of the period often concealed it. [illustration: corset, forming both corset and stomacher (front).] [illustration: corset, forming both corset and stomacher (back).] the annexed illustrations are carefully sketched from a very excellent specimen of this form of corset or bodice, kindly lent us for the purpose by messrs. simmons, the well-known costumiers of tavistock-street, covent garden, by whom it has been preserved as a great curiosity. the materials used in its construction are very strong, whilst every part the least liable to be put out of form is literally plated with whalebone, making its weight considerable. the lace-holes are worked with blue silk, and are very numerous and close together. [illustration] chapter x. remarks on front-fastening stays--thomson's glove-fitting corsets--plan for adding stability to the front-fastening corset--de la garde's french corset--system of self-measurement--the redresseur corset of vienna and its influence on the figures of young persons--remarks on the flimsy materials used in the manufacture of corsets--hints as to proper materials--the "minet back" corset described--elastic corsets condemned--the narrow bands used as substitutes for corsets injurious to the figure--remarks on the proper application of the corset with the view to the production of a graceful figure--thomson's zephyrina crinoline--costume of the present season--the claims of nature and art considered--the belle of damara land. [illustration: common cheap stay, fastened.] [illustration: common cheap stay, open.] [illustration: the glove-fitting corset (thomson and co.)] it would be difficult to find a much more marked contrast to the style of bodice referred to in our last chapter than is to be found in the ordinary cheap front-fastening corset commonly sold by drapers. the accompanying illustrations accurately represent it, and those who have written on the subject have much reason on their side when they insist that it neither aids in the formation of a good figure nor helps to maintain the proportions of one when formed. corsets such as these have neither beauty of contour nor compactness of construction. the two narrow busks through which the holes are drilled for the reception of the _studs_ or _catches_ are too often formed of steel so low in quality that fracture at these weak points is a common occurrence, when some danger of injury from the broken ends is to be apprehended. it will also be found that when these bars or plates are deficient in width and insufficient in stiffness the corset will no longer support the figure, or form a foundation for the dress to be neatly adjusted over. on the introduction of the front-fastening system it was at once seen that much saving of time and trouble was gained by the great facility with which corsets constructed according to it could be put on and off but the objections before referred to were soon manifest, and the ingenuity of inventors was called into action to remedy and overcome them, and it was during this _transition_ stage in the history of the corset that the front-fastening principle met with much condemnation at the hands of those who made the formation of the figure a study. from thomson and co., of new york, we have received a pattern of their "_glove-fitting corset_," the subject of the accompanying illustration, in the formation of which the old evils have been most successfully dealt with. the steels are of the highest class of quality and of the requisite degree of substance to insure both safety and sustaining power. accidental unfastening of the front, so common, and, to say the least of it, inconvenient, in the old form of attachment, is rendered impossible by the introduction of a very ingenious but simple spring _latch_, which is opened or closed in an instant at the pleasure of the wearer. this corset is decidedly the best form on the front-fastening plan we have seen. its mode of construction is excellent; it is so cut as to admit of its adapting itself to every undulation of the figure with extraordinary facility. we have suggested to the firm the advisability of furnishing to the public corsets combining their excellent method of cutting, great strength of material, and admirable finish, with the single steel busk and hind-lacing arrangement of the ordinary stay. the requirements of all would be then met, for although numbers of ladies prefer the front-fastening corset, it will be observed that a great number of those who have written on the subject, and make the formation and maintenance of the figure a study, positively declare from experience that the waist never looks so small or neatly proportioned as when evenly and well laced in the hind-lacing and close-fronted form of corset. it has of late become the custom to remedy the want of firmness and stability found to exist in many of the common front-fastening corsets by sewing a kind of sheath or case on the inside of the front immediately behind the two steels on which the studs and slots are fixed; into this a rather wide steel busk is passed, so that the division or opening has the centre line of the _extra_ busk immediately behind it. that this plan answers in some measure the desired end there is no doubt, but in such a corset as that of thomson and co. no such expedient is needed. [illustration: corset of messrs. de la garde, paris (front).] [illustration: corset of messrs. de la garde, paris (back).] the accompanying illustrations are from sketches made expressly for this work from a corset made by de la garde and co., of paris, and our readers will form their own opinion as to the contour of the figure from which these drawings were made, which is that of a lady who has for many years worn corsets made by the above-mentioned firm. the waist-measure is eighteen inches. the remarks as to the advisability of having corsets made to measure are scarcely borne out by her experiences. she informs us that it has always been her custom to forward to messrs. de la garde and co.'s agent the measure taken round the chest below the arms, from beneath the arm to the hip, the circumference of the hips, and the waist-measure, when the fit is a matter of certainty. by adopting this system ladies residing in the country can, she assures us, always provide themselves with corsets made by the first manufacturers in europe without the trouble and inconvenience of being attended for the purpose of measurement. in ordering the "_glove-fitting corset_," the waist measure only need be given. from m. weiss, of vienna, we have received a pattern and photographs from which our other illustrations are taken. here we have represented the so-called "_redresseur_" corset, devised mainly with a view to the formation of the figure in young persons, or where careless and awkward habits of posture have been contracted. it will be seen on examination that the front of the chest is left entirely free for expansion, the waist only being confined at the point where restraint is most called for. the back is supported and kept upright by the system of boning adopted with that view, and the shoulder-straps, after passing completely round the point of the shoulder, are hooked together behind, thus bringing the shoulders in their proper position and keeping them there. as a corrective and improver to the figure there can be no doubt that the _redresseur_ corset is a safe and most efficient contrivance. we have had an opportunity of seeing it worn, and can testify to the marked and obvious improvement which was at once brought about by its application. [illustration: the "redresseur" corset of vienna (weiss).] we have heard many complaints lately of the flimsy manner in which corsets of comparatively high price are turned out by their makers, the stitching being so weak that re-sewing is not unfrequently needed after a few days' wear. the edges of the whalebones, too, instead of being rounded off and rendered smooth, are often, we find, left as sharp as a knife, causing the coutil or other material to be cut through in a very few days. the eyelet-holes are also made so small and narrow at the flanges that no hold on the material is afforded, and even the most moderate kind of lacing causes them to break from their hold, fall out, and leave a hole in the material of which the corset is made, which if not immediately repaired by working round in the old-fashioned way rapidly enlarges, frays out, and runs into an unsightly hole. corset-makers should see that the circle of metal beyond the orifice through which the lace passes is sufficiently wide to close down perfectly on the fabric, and retain a firm hold of it; if they do not do so, the old worked eyelet-hole is preferable to the stud, notwithstanding the neat appearance of the stud and the apparent advantage it has over the old plan. a form of corset made without lacing-holes, known as the "_minet back_," with which many of our readers will no doubt be familiar, and which was extensively worn in france some few years ago, is still to be obtained of some few makers in england. this has a row of short strong loops sewn just beyond each back whalebone. through these pass from top to bottom, on each side of the back, a long round bar of strong whalebone, which is secured in its place by a string passing through a hole made in its top to the upper loop of each row. the lace (a flat silk one) was passed through the spaces between the loops, and was tightened over the smooth round whalebone, thus enabling the wearer not only to lace with extreme tightness without danger to the corset, but admitting of its almost instant removal by slightly slackening the lace and then drawing out one of the bars, which immediately sets the interlacing free from end to end. we are rather surprised that more of these corsets are not worn, as there are numerous advantages attendant on them. our space will not admit of our more than glancing _en passant_ at the various inventions which have from time to time been brought to the notice of the public. by some inventors the use of elastic webbing or woven indiarubber cloth was taken advantage of, and great stress was laid on the resilient qualities of the corsets to which it was applied. but it must never be lost sight of that all materials of an elastic nature, when fitted tightly to the figure, not only have the power of expanding on the application of force, but are unceasingly exercising their own extensive powers of contraction. thus, no amount of custom could ever adapt the waist to the space allotted to it, as with the elastic corset it is changing every second, and always exercising constriction even when loosely laced. the narrow bands hollowed out over the hips may be, as some writers on the subject have stated, adapted for the possessors of very slight figures who ride much on horseback; but many ladies of great experience in the matter strongly condemn them as being inefficient and calculated to lead to much detriment to the figure. thus writes a correspondent to the _englishwoman's domestic magazine_:-- "as one of your correspondents recommends the waistbands in lieu of corsets, i have during the last three weeks made a trial of them, and shall be glad if you will allow me to express my opinion that they are not only disadvantageous but positively dangerous to the figure. your correspondent says that ordinary corsets, if drawn in well at the waist, hurt a woman cruelly all the way up. i can only say that if she finds such to be the case the remedy is in her own hands. if ladies would only take the trouble to have their stays made to measure for them, and have plenty of room allowed round the chest, not only would the waist look smaller, but no discomfort would be felt such as h. w. describes. young girls should always be accurately fitted, but it is, i have found, a mistake to have their corsets too flimsy or elastic. i quite agree that they should be commenced early--indeed, they usually are so, and thus extreme compression being unnecessary, the instances brought forward by the lady who commenced the discussion and by nora must, i think, be looked upon as exceptional cases. "effie margetson." another lady writing in the same journal says--"no one will grudge 'the young lady herself' any sympathy she may claim for the torture she has submitted to, but so far from her case being condemnatory of stays it is the reverse, for she candidly admits that she does not suffer ill-health. now such a case as hers is an exception, and the stout young lady spoken of by nora is also an exception, for it is seldom that girls are allowed to attain the age of fourteen or fifteen before commencing stays. the great secret is to begin their use as early as possible, and no such severe compression will be requisite. it seems absurd to allow the waist to grow large and clumsy, and then to reduce it again to more elegant proportions by means which must at first be more or less productive of inconvenience. there is no article of civilised dress which, when first begun to be worn, does not feel uncomfortable for a time to those who have never worn it before. the barefooted highland lassie carries her shoes to the town, puts them on on her arrival, and discards them again directly she leaves the centre of civilisation. a hat or a coat would be at first insupportable to the men of many nations, and we all know how soon the african belle threw aside the crinoline she had been induced to purchase. but surely no one would argue against these necessary articles of dress merely on the ground of inconvenience to the wearer, for, however uncomfortable they may be at first, it is astonishing how soon that feeling goes off and how indispensable they become. my opinion is that stays should always be made to order, and not be of too flimsy a construction. i think h. w.'s suggestions regarding the waistbands only applicable to middle-aged ladies or invalids, as they do not give sufficient support to growing girls, and are likely to make the figure look too much like a sack tied round the middle instead of gradually tapering to the waist. brisbane's letter shows how those who have never tried tight-lacing are prejudiced against it, and that merely from being shown a print in an old medical work, while nora's letter is infinitely more valuable, as showing how even the most extreme lacing can be employed without injury to health. "l. thompson." such a work as this would be incomplete without some remarks touching the best means to be applied for the achievement of the desired end, and hence a letter from a lady of great experience, who has paid much attention to the subject, contributed to the _englishwoman's domestic magazine_, enables us to give the very best possible kind of information--viz., that gathered by personal observation. thus she writes:-- "in the numerous communications on the subject of tight-lacing which have appeared in the _englishwoman's domestic magazine_, but little has been said on the best mode of applying the corset in order to produce elegance of figure. it seems to me that nearly all those who suffer from tight-lacing do so from an _injudicious_ use of the corset, and in such cases the unfortunate corset generally gets all the blame, and not the wearer who makes an improper use of it. i can easily understand that a girl who is full grown, or nearly so, and who has been unaccustomed to wear tight stays, should find it difficult and painful to lace in her waist to a fashionable size; but if the corset be worn at an early age and the figure gradually moulded by it, i know of no terrible consequences that need be apprehended. i would therefore recommend the early use of a corset that fits the figure nicely and no more. now, simply wearing stays that only _fit_, will, when a girl is growing, in a great measure prevent the waist from becoming clumsy. if, however, on her reaching the age of fourteen or fifteen, her waist be still considered too large, a smaller corset may be worn with advantage, which should be _gradually_ tightened till the requisite slimness is achieved. i know of so many instances in which, under this system, girls have, when full grown, possessed both a good figure and good health, that i can recommend it with confidence to those parents who wish their children to grow up into elegant and healthy women. as to whether compression of the waist by symmetrical corsets injures the health in any way, opinion seems to be divided. the personal experiences of tight-lacers, as your correspondent belle has observed, will do more to solve this knotty question than any amount of theory. but whatever conclusion we may come to on this point, there is no denying the fact that very many of the strongest and healthiest women one sees in society habitually practise tight-lacing, and apparently do so with impunity. "an old subscriber." as we have before stated, the remarks and observations contained in the above letter are the result of careful study and a thorough acquaintance with the subject, and not of hasty conclusion, prejudice, or theory. a letter in the earlier portion of this work, from an old edinburgh correspondent to the _queen_, than whom few are more competent to direct and advise on this important subject, will be found precisely to the same end, and we feel sure, in laying before the reader such united experiences, that much will be done towards the establishment of such a system of management as will lead to the almost certain achievement of grace and elegance of figure without the sacrifice of health. that these are most important and desirable objects for attainment few would be puritanical and headstrong enough to deny, and there can be no question that, however superb or simple a lady's costume may be, it is mainly dependent for its elegance of adjustment and distinctiveness of style to the corset and crinoline beneath it. we have seen how mrs. selby's invention influenced the world of fashion in her day, and a glance at the illustration at page will be sufficient to prove how inferior, in point of grace and elegance, the costume of that period was to that of our own time. some idea may be formed of the wide-spread and almost universal attention which mrs. selby's wondrous "_crinoline conception_" met at the hands of the fashionable world by a perusal of the following lines, which were written at bath concerning it in the year , and are entitled, _the farthingale reviewed; or, more work for the cooper. a paneygerick on the late but most admirable invention of the hooped petticoat._ "there's scarce a bard that writ in former time had e'er so great, so bright a theme for rhyme; the _mantua_ swain, if living, would confess ours more surprising than his tyrian dress, and ovid's mistress, in her loose attire, would cease to charm his eyes or fan love's fire. were he at _bath_, and had these coats in view, he'd write his _metamorphosis_ anew, "delia, fresh hooped, would o'er his heart prevail, to leave corinna and her tawdry veil. hear, great apollo! and my genius guide, to sing this glorious miracle of pride, nor yet disdain the subject for its name, since meaner things have oft been sung to fame; even boots and spurs have graced heroic verse, butler his knight's whole suit did well rehearse; king harry's costume stands upon record, and every age will precedents afford. then on, my muse, and sing in epic strain the petticoat--thou shalt not sing in vain, the petticoat will sure reward thy pain; with all thy skill its secret virtues tell-- a petticoat should still be handled well. "oh garment heavenly wide! thy spacious round do's my astonished thoughts almost confound; my fancy cannot grasp thee at a view, none at first sight e'er such a picture drew. the daring artist that describes thee true, must change his sides as modern statesmen do, or like the painter, when some church he draws, following his own, and not the builder's laws, at once shows but the prospect to the sight, for north and south together can't be right. "hence, ye profane! nor think i shall reveal the happy wonders which these vests conceal; hence your unhallow'd eyes and ears remove, 'tis _cupid's_ circle, 'tis the orb of love. let it suffice you see th' unwieldy fair sail through the streets with gales of swelling air; nor think (like fools) the ladies, would they try, arm'd with their furbelows and these, could fly. that's all romantick, for these garments show their thoughts are with their petticoats below. "nor must we blame them whilst they stretch their art in rich adornment and being wondrous smart; for that, perhaps, may stand 'em more in stead than loads of ribbons fluttering on the head. and, let philosophers say what they will, there's something surer than their eyes do's kill; we tell the nymph that we her face adore, but plain she sees we glance at something more. "in vain the ladies spend their morning hours erecting on their heads stupendous towers; a battery from thence might scare the foe, but certain victory is gained below. let _damon_ then the adverse champion be-- topknots for him, and petticoats for me; nor must he urge it spoils the ladies' shape, tho' (as the multitude at monsters gape) the world appears all lost in wild amaze, as on these new, these strange machines they gaze; for if the queen the poets tell us of, from paphos came, attired as we are told by antique fame, thus would they wonder at the heavenly dame. "i own the female world is much estranged from what it was, and top and bottom changed. the head was once their darling constant care, but women's heads can't heavy burdens bear-- as much, i mean, as they can do elsewhere; so wisely they transferred the mode of dress, and furnished t'other end with the excess. what tho' like spires or pyramids they show, sharp at the top, and vast of bulk below? it is a sign they stand the more secure: a maypole will not like a church endure, and ships at sea, when stormy winds prevail, are safer in their ballast than their sail. "hail, happy coat! for modern damsels fit, product of ladies' and of taylors' wit; child of invention rather than of pride, what wonders dost thou show, what wonders hide! within the shelter of thy useful shade, thin _galatea's_ shrivelled limbs appear as plump and charming as they did last year; whilst tall _miranda_ her lank shape improves, and, graced by thee, in some proportion moves. ev'n those who are diminutively short may please themselves and make their neighbours sport, when, to their armpits harnessed up in thee, nothing but head and petticoats we see. but, oh! what a figure fat _sempronia_ makes! at her gigantick form the pavement quakes; by thy addition she's so much enlarged, where'er she comes, the sextons now are charged that all church doors and pews be wider made-- a vast advantage to a joiner's trade. "ye airy nymphs, that do these garments wear, forgive my want of skill, not want of care; forgive me if i have not well displayed a coat for such important uses made. if aught i have forgot, it was to prove how fit they are, how _apropos_ for love, how in their circles cooling zephyrs play, just as a tall ship's sails are filled on some bright summer day. but there my muse must halt--she dares no more than hope the pardon which she ask'd before." [illustration: the fashion of .] fashions have altered, times have changed, hooped petticoats have been in turn honoured and banished, just as the fickle goddess of the mirror has decreed. still, as an arrow shot in the air returns in time to earth, so surely does the hooped jupon return to power after a temporary estrangement from the world of gaiety. the illustration on page represents the last new form of crinoline, and there can be no doubt that its open form of front is a most important and noteworthy improvement. preceding this engraving, we have an illustration representing two ladies in the costume of the present season arranged over "the glove-fitting corset" and "zephyrina jupon," for patterns of both of which we are indebted to the courtesy of messrs. thomson and co., the inventors and manufacturers. [illustration: the zephyrina jupon.] it is the custom with some authors to uphold the claims of _nature_ in matters relating to human elegance, and we admit that nature in her own way is particularly charming, so long as the accessories and surroundings are in unison. but in the human heart everywhere dwells an innate love of adornment, and untaught savages, in their toilet appliances and tastes, closely resemble the belles of highly-civilised communities. we have already referred to the crinoline petticoats worn by the tahitian girls when they were first seen by the early navigators. the frilled ruff which so long remained a high court favourite during the elizabethan period (and which, if we mistake not, will again have its day) was as well known to the dusky beauties of the palm-clad, wave-lashed islands of the pacific, when cook first sailed forth to discover new lands, as it was to the stately and proud dames of venice. beneath, we place side by side types of savage elegance and refined taste. where the one begins and the other ends, who shall say? [illustration: tahitian dancing girl. venetian lady.] index. adventure, an, of louise de lorraine, , . alarming diseases said to be produced by wearing high-heeled shoes, , . ancient inhabitants of polenqui, reduction of the waist by, . an italian duchess, the costume of, . antiquities of egypt, researches among, - . augsburg, the ladies of, by hoechstetterus, . austria, empress of, elegant figure of, . backboards and stocks, . bands (narrow), used as substitutes for corsets injurious, , . barbers, an army of, . beauties of circassia, , . beauty, hindoo ideas regarding, , . belles of india, , . belt (ornamented) of the indians, . bernaise dress, . blanche, daughter of edward iii., dress of, . boarding-school discipline, letter on, , . boddice, bodice, or bodies, . bonnet à canon, the, . bouffant sleeves of the reign of henry ii., . bridal dress of an israelitish lady, . buchan, writings of, . ceylon, figure-training in, . chaucer's writings, his admiration of small waists, . chinese gentleman, letter from a, . cleopatra and her jewels, . clumsy figures great drawbacks to young ladies, . conquest of the roman empire, . corps, the, , . corset, a peculiar form of, worn by some ladies of fashion in france, . corset in use among the israelitish ladies, , . corset, general use of the, on the continent for boys, - . corset, origin of, . corset, use of by the inhabitants of the eastern archipelago, . corset-covers (steel), . corsets and high-heeled shoes denounced, , . corsets, custom of wearing during sleep, , . corsets for growing girls, remarks on, , . corsets of the present day contrasted with those of the olden time, . corsets, remarks on the proper application of, - . corsets, severe form of, worn in the elizabethan period, , . corsets, the small size of, made in london, . corsets, their use for youths, . corsets worn by gentlemen in , . corsets worn by gentlemen of the present time, . costume à l'enfant, . costume à la watteau, . costume of the court of louis xvi., . costumes of the ladies of israel, - . cottes hardies, . crim tartary, beautiful princesses of, , . crinoline among the south sea islanders, . crinoline and slender waists, remarks of madame la sante on, , . crinoline not a new term, . cromwell's time, tight-lacing in, . de la garde's french corsets, , . demon of fashion, a monkish satire, . determined tailor, a, . dress in , . dress, its elegance dependent on the corset, . dresses (low) of , . dunbar's thistle and rose, . earth-eating in java, . eastern archipelago, use of the corset in, . edict of the emperor joseph of austria forbidding the use of stays, . edinburgh, traditions of, anecdote from, . egyptian fashions and costumes, - . elastic corsets condemned, . eleanor, countess of leicester, entry in household register of, , . elegance of figure highly esteemed by the persians, . elegant costumes of the ancient jewish ladies, - . empress of austria, the, portrait of, . escapade of young louis of france, . extravagance of the roman ladies, . families, medici, este, and visconti, . family man, letter from a, , . farthingale, the, protest against, . fashionable promenades of ancient rome, . fashion and dress in , . fashion in the reign of king pepin, . fashion in , . fashions in ancient egypt, - . figure, general remarks on the, . figure, letter on the, - . figure, reduction of, by the ancient inhabitants of polenqui, . figure-training, , . food, abstinence from, an assistance to the corset, , . freaks of fashion in france and germany, . french revolutionary period, dress during, . front-fastening stays, remarks concerning, - . gay, the writings of, . guardian, the, correspondence from, relating to the fashions of , , , , , , , , . guardian, the, letters from, relating to low dresses and tight stays, - . gustavus adolphus, the officers of, . hair powder, its introduction, . henry iii. of france a wearer of corsets, , . hindoo belles, , . hindoo standards of beauty, , . hogarth, stays drawn by, . homer speaks of the corset, . improvements in corsets brought about by the advance of civilisation, . indian hunting-belt, , . israelitish ladies, - . jane shore, penance of, - . java, earth-eating in, . jonson (ben), his remarks on stays, . jumpers and garibaldis, . king charles i. of england, fashions of the court of, . king george iii., fashion in the reign of, . king james and his fondness for dress, , . king louis xv. of france, fashion in the reign of, . kirtle, the, . ladies of old france, . lady morton, diminutive waist of, . lady triamore, daughter of the king of the fairies, . lady's-maid, accomplishments of a, . launfal, poem of, . lawn ruffs of queen bess, , . laws, sumptuary, relating to dress, . letter from a lady, who habitually laces with extreme tightness, in praise of the practice, - . letters from ladies who have been subjected to tight-lacing, - . louis xiv. of france, court of, . louis xiv. of france, the court of, high-heeled shoes, slender waists, and fancy costumes, fashionable at, . louise de lorraine, fête dress of, . louise de lorraine, strange freaks of, , . marie d'anjou, costume of, . marie de medici and the costumes of her time, . marie stuart, costume of, . medical evidence in favour of stays, , . medical man, letter from, in favour of moderately tight lacing, , . minet back corset described, . mitra used by the grecian ladies, . mode of adding stability to the front-fastening corset, . mortality among the female sex not on the increase, . old authors, their remarks on stays, . peplus, the, . proportions of the figure and size of waist considered, . puritanism, its effect on fashion, . queen anne, fashions during the reign of, . queen catherine de medici and queen elizabeth of england, , . queen elizabeth's collection of false hair, , . queen newspaper, letter from, on small waists, - . redresseur corset of vienna, . remarks on the changes of fashion, . remarks on the flimsy materials used in making some modern corsets, . revival of the taste for small waists in old france, . roman baths, , . royal standard of fashionable slenderness, . scotland, small waists admired in, in olden times, . scriptural references, . selby, mrs., the invention of, reviewed, . self-measurement, remarks concerning, . short waists and long trains, . siamese dress, the, . side-arms of the elizabethan period, . snake-toed shoes, long sleeves, and high-heeled slippers, . starching, the art of, . statistics, extraordinary, of the corset trade, . statue, a fashionably dressed, . stays, formidable kind of, in use in , . stays, the general use of the word after in england, . stays worn habitually by gentlemen, . strophium, the use of, by the ladies of rome, . stubs, philip, on the ruff, - . stubs, his indignation, , . taper waists and figure-training in ancient rome, . terentius, strictures and remarks of, . thirteenth century, the small waists of, . thomson's glove-fitting corsets, , . tight corsets, letter in praise of, , . tight corsets needed for short waists, . tight-lacing revived, . toilet of a roman lady of fashion, - . united states of america, belles of the, . venice, fashions of the ladies of, , . venus de medici, waist of, contrasted with the waist of fashion, . venus, the cestus of, . vienna, slender waists the fashion in, . voluminous nether-garments of the gentlemen of the elizabethan period, . waist, the point at which it should be formed, , · young baronet, letter from, . zephyrina jupon of thomson and co., . transcriber's note: original spelling/hyphenation/punctuation has been retained, but typographical errors have been corrected. [cover illustration] [illustration of boswell and johnson at the mitre] the little tea book compiled by arthur gray _compiler of over the black coffee_ illustrated by george w. hood [illustration of tea kettle] new york the baker & taylor company - east th st., union sq. north copyright, , by the baker & taylor company _published, october, _ the crow press, n.h. thou soft, thou sober, sage, and venerable liquid! thou innocent pretence for bringing the wicked of both sexes together in the morning! thou female tongue-running, smile-soothing, heart-opening, wink-tipping cordial to whose glorious insipidity i owe the happiest moments of my life. --colley cibber. _introducing the little tea book_ after all, tea is _the_ drink! domestically and socially it is the beverage of the world. there may be those who will come forward with _their_ figures to prove that other fruits of the soil-- agriculturally and commercially--are more important. perhaps they are right when quoting statistics. but what other product can compare with tea in the high regard in which it has always been held by writers whose standing in literature, and recognized good taste in other walks, cannot be questioned? a glance through this book will show that the spirit of the tea beverage is one of peace, comfort, and refinement. as these qualities are all associated with the ways of women, it is to them, therefore--the real rulers of the world--that tea owes its prestige and vogue. further peeps through these pages prove this to be true; for nearly all the allusions and references to the beverage, by male writers, reveal the womanly influence that tea imparts. but this is not all. the side-lights of history, customs, manners, and modes of living which tea plays in the life of all nations will be found entertaining and instructive. linked with the fine feminine atmosphere which pervades the drinking of the beverage everywhere, a leaf which can combine so much deserves, at least, a little human hearing for its long list of virtues; for its peaceful walks, talks, tales, tattle, frills, and fancies which go to make up this tribute to "the cup that cheers but not inebriates." _the origin of tea_ darma, third son of koyuwo, king of india, a religions high priest from siaka (the author of that eastern paganism about a thousand years before the christian era), coming to china, to teach the way of happiness, lived a most austere life, passing his days in continual mortification, and retiring by night to solitudes, in which he fed only upon the leaves of trees and other vegetable productions. after several years passed in this manner, in fasting and watching, it happened that, contrary to his vows, the pious darma fell asleep! when he awoke, he was so much enraged at himself, that, to prevent the offence to his vows for the future, he got rid of his eyelids and placed them on the ground. on the following day, returning to his accustomed devotions, he beheld, with amazement, springing up from his eyelids, two small shrubs of an unusual appearance, such as he had never before seen, and of whose qualities he was, of course, entirely ignorant. the saint, however, not being wholly devoid of curiosity--or, perhaps, being unusually hungry--was prompted to eat of the leaves, and immediately felt within him a wonderful elevation of mind, and a vehement desire of divine contemplation, with which he acquainted his disciples, who were eager to follow the example of their instructor, and they readily received into common use the fragrant plant which has been the theme of so many poetical and literary pens in succeeding ages. [illustration of dr. johnson's chair] _tea_ by francis saltus saltus from what enchanted eden came thy leaves that hide such subtle spirits of perfume? did eyes preadamite first see the bloom, luscious nepenthe of the soul that grieves? by thee the tired and torpid mind conceives fairer than roses brightening life's gloom, thy protean charm can every form assume and turn december nights to april eves. thy amber-tinted drops bring back to me fantastic shapes of great mongolian towers, emblazoned banners, and the booming gong; i hear the sound of feast and revelry, and smell, far sweeter than the sweetest flowers, the kiosks of pekin, fragrant of oolong! _little cups of chinese and japanese tea_ although the legend credits the pious east indian with the discovery of tea, there is no evidence extant that india is really the birthplace of the plant. since india has no record of date, or facts, on stone or tablet, or ever handed down a single incident of song or story--apart from the legend--as to the origin of tea, one is loath to accept the claim--if claim they assert--of a people who are not above practising the "black art" at every turn of their fancy. certain it is that china, first in many things, knew tea as soon as any nation of the world. the early chinese were not only more progressive than other peoples, but linked with their progress were important researches, and invaluable discoveries, which the civilized world has long ago recognized. then, why not add tea to the list? at any rate, it is easy to believe that the chinese were first in the tea fields, and that undoubtedly the plant was a native of both china and japan when it was slumbering on the slopes of india, unpicked, unsteeped, undrunk, unhonored, and unsung. a celebrated buddhist, st. dengyo daishai, is credited with having introduced tea into japan from china as early as the fourth century. it is likely that he was the first to teach the japanese the use of the herb, for it had long been a favorite beverage in the mountains of the celestial kingdom. the plant, however, is found in so many parts of japan that there can be little doubt but what it is indigenous there as well. the word tea is of chinese origin, being derived from the amoy and swatow reading, "tay," of the same character, which expresses both the ancient name of tea, "t'su," and the more modern one, "cha." japanese tea, "chiya"--pronounced châ. tea was not known in china before the tang dynasty, - a.d. an infusion of some kind of leaf, however, was used as early as the chow dynasty, - b.c., as we learn from the urh-ya, a glossary of terms used in ancient history and poetry. this work, which is classified by subjects, has been assigned as the beginning of the chow dynasty, but belongs more properly to the era of confucius, k'ung kai, - b.c. although known in japan for more than a thousand years, tea only gradually became the national beverage as late as the fourteenth century. in the first half of the eighth century, a.d., there was a record made of a religious festival, at which the forty-fifth mikado---"sublime gate"--shommei tenno, entertained the buddhist priests with tea, a hitherto unknown beverage from corea, which country was for many years the high-road of chinese culture to japan. after the ninth century, a.d., and for four centuries thereafter, tea fell into disuse, and almost oblivion, among the japanese. the nobility, and buddhist priests, however, continued to drink it as a luxury. during the reign of the eighty-third emperor, - a.d., the cultivation of tea was permanently established in japan. in , the bonze, yei-sei, brought tea seeds from china, which he planted on the mountains in one of the most northern provinces. yei-sei is also credited with introducing the chinese custom of ceremonious tea-drinking. at any rate, he presented tea seeds to mei-ki, the abbot of the monastery of to-gano (to whom the use of tea had been recommended for its stimulating properties), and instructed him in the mystery of its cultivation, treatment, and preparation. mei-ki, who laid out plantations near uzi, was successful as a pupil, and even now the tea-growers of that neighborhood pay tribute to his memory by annually offering at his shrine the first gathered tea-leaves. after that period, the use of tea became more and more in fashion, the monks and their kindred having discovered its property of keeping them awake during long vigils and nocturnal prayers. prom this time on the development and progress of the plant are interwoven with the histories and customs of these countries. _on tea_ the following short poem by edmund waller is believed to be the first one written in praise of the "cup that does not inebriate": venus her myrtle, phoebus has her bays; tea both excels, which she vouchsafes to praise. the best of queens, and best of herbs, we owe to that bold nation, which the way did show to the fair region where the sun doth rise, whose rich productions we so justly prize. the muse's friend, tea does our fancy aid, repress those vapors which the head invade, and keep the palace of the soul serene, tit on her birthday to salute the queen. waller was born in , and died in , aged eighty-two. _some english tea history_ tea was brought into europe by the dutch east india company, in . it was at least forty, and perhaps forty-seven, years later that england woke up to the fascinations of the new drink. dr. johnson puts it at even a later date, for he claims that tea was first introduced into england by lords arlington and ossory, in , and really made its debut into society when the wives of these noblemen gave it its vogue. if dr. johnson's statement is intended to mean that nothing is anything until the red seal of the select says, "thus shall it be," he is right in the year he has selected. if, on the other hand, the doctor had in mind society at large, he is "mixed in his dates," or leaves, for tea was drawn and drunk in london nine years before that date. garway, the founder of garraway's coffee house, claimed the honor of being first to offer tea in leaf and drink for public sale, in . it is pretty safe to fix the entrance of tea into europe even a few years ahead of his announcement, for merchants in those days did not advertise their wares in advance. however, this date is about the beginning of tea time, for in the _mercurius politicius_ of september, , appeared the following advertisement: that excellent and by all physitians approved china drink, called by the chineans, tcha, by other nations, tay, or tea, is sold at the sultana's head, a copphee house, in sweetings rents, by the royal exchange, london. like all new things, when they have fastened on to the public's favor, tea was on everybody's lips and in everybody's mouth. it was lauded to the skies, and was supposed to be good for all the ills of the flesh. it would cure colds and consumption, clear the sight, remove lassitude, purify the liver, improve digestion, create appetite, strengthen the memory, and cure fever and ague. one panegyrist says, while never putting the patient in mind of his disease, it cheers the heart, without disordering the head; strengthens the feet of the old, and settles the heads of the young; cools the brain of the hard drinker, and warms that of the sober student; relieves the sick, and makes the healthy better. epicures drink it for want of an appetite; _bon vivants_, to remove the effects of a surfeit of wine; gluttons, as a remedy for indigestion; politicians, for the vertigo; doctors, for drowsiness; prudes, for the vapors; wits, for the spleen; and beaux to improve their complexions; summing up, by declaring tea to be a treat for the frugal, a regale for the luxurious, a successful agent for the man of business, and a bracer for the idle. poets and verse-makers joined the chorus in praise of tea, in greek and latin. one poet pictures hebe pouring the delightful cup for the goddesses, who, finding it made their beauty brighter and their wit more brilliant, drank so deeply as to disgust jupiter, who had forgotten that he, himself, "drank tea that happy morn, when wise minerva of his brain was born." laureant tate, who wrote a poem on tea in two cantos, described a family jar among the fair deities, because each desired to become the special patroness of the ethereal drink destined to triumph over wine. another versifier exalts it at the expense of its would-be rival, coffee: "in vain would coffee boast an equal good, the crystal stream transcends the flowing mud, tea, even the ills from coffee spring repairs, disclaims its vices and its virtues shares." another despairing enthusiast exclaims: "hail, goddess of the vegetable, hail! to sing thy worth, all words, all numbers, fail!" the new beverage did not have the field all to itself, however, for, while it was generally admitted that tea was fixed, and come to stay. it could not drive good meat and drink away. lovers of the old and conservative customs of the table were not anxious to try the novelty. others shied at it; some flirted with it, in tiny teaspoonfuls; others openly defied and attacked it. among the latter were a number of robust versifiers and physicians. "'twas better for each british virgin, when on roast beef, strong beer and sturgeon, joyous to breakfast they sat round, nor were ashamed to eat a pound." the fleshly school of doctors were only too happy to disagree with their brethren respecting the merits and demerits of the new-fangled drink; and it is hard to say which were most bitter, the friends or the foes of tea. maria theresa's physician, count belchigen, attributed the discovery of a number of new diseases to the debility born of daily tea-drinking. dr. paulli denied that it had either taste or fragrance, owing its reputation entirely to the peculiar vessels and water used by the chinese, so that it was folly to partake of it, unless tea-drinkers could supply themselves with pure water from the vassie and the fragrant tea-pots of gnihing. this sagacious sophist and dogmatizer also discovered that, among other evils, tea-drinking deprived its devotees of the power of expectoration, and entailed sterility; wherefore he hoped europeans would thereafter keep to their natural beverages-- wine and ale--and reject coffee, chocolate, and tea, which were all equally bad for them. in spite of the array of old-fashioned doctors, wits, and lovers of the pipe and bottle, who opposed evil effects, sneered at the finely bred men of england being turned into women, and grumbled at the stingy custom of calling for dish-water after dinner, the custom of tea-drinking continued to grow. by the sale of the leaf had increased sufficiently to make it politic to reduce the duty on it from eight pence on the decoction to five shillings a pound on the leaf. the value of tea at this time may be estimated from a customhouse report of the sale of a quantity of divers sorts and qualities, the worst being equal to that "used in coffee-houses for making single tea," which, being disposed of by "inch of candle," fetched an average of twelve shillings a pound. during the next three years the consumption of tea was greatly increased; but very little seems to have been known about it by those who drank it--if we may judge from the enlightenment received from a pamphlet, given gratis, "up one flight of stairs, at the sign of the anodyne necklace, without temple bar." all it tells us about tea is that it is the leaf of a little shoot growing plentifully in the east indies; that bohea--called by the french "bean tea"--is best of a morning with bread and butter, being of a more nourishing nature than the green which may be used when a meal is not wanted. three or four cups at a sitting are enough; and a little milk or cream renders the beverage smoother and more powerful in blunting the acid humors of the stomach. the satirists believed that tea had a contrary effect upon the acid humors of the mind, making the tea-table the arena for the display of the feminine capacity for backbiting and scandal. listen to swift describe a lady enjoying her evening cups of tea: "surrounded with the noisy clans of prudes, coquettes and harridans. now voices over voices rise, while each to be the loudest vies; they contradict, affirm, dispute, no single tongue one moment mute; all mad to speak, and none to hearken, they set the very lapdog barking; their chattering makes a louder din than fish-wives o'er a cup of gin; far less the rabble roar and rail when drunk with sour election ale." even gentle gay associated soft tea with the temper of women when he pictures doris and melanthe abusing all their bosom friends, while-- "through all the room from flowery tea exhales a fragrant fume." but not all the women were tea-drinkers in those days. there was madam drake, the proprietress of one of the three private carriages manchester could boast. few men were as courageous as she in declaring against the tea-table when they were but invited guests. madam drake did not hesitate to make it known when she paid an afternoon's visit that she expected to be offered her customary solace--a tankard of ale and a pipe of tobacco. another female opponent of tea was the _female spectator_, which declared the use of the fluid to be not only expensive, but pernicious; the utter destruction of all economy, the bane of good housewifery, and the source of all idleness. tradesmen especially suffered from the habit. they could not serve their customers because their apprentices were absent during the busiest hours of the day drumming up gossips for their mistresses' tea-tables. this same censor says that the most temperate find themselves obliged to drink wine freely after tea, or supplement their bohea with rum and brandy, the bottle and glass becoming as necessary to the tea-table as the slop-basin. although jonas hanway, the father of the umbrella, was successful in keeping off water, he was not successful in keeping out tea. all he did accomplish in his essay on the subject was to call forth a reply from dr. johnson, who, strange to say, instead of vigorously defending his favorite tipple, rather excuses it as an amiable weakness; confessing that tea is a barren superfluity, fit only to amuse the idle, relax the studious, and dilute the meals of those who cannot take exercise, and will not practise abstinence. his chief argument in tea's favor is that it is drunk in no great quantity even by those who use it most, and as it neither exhilarates the heart nor stimulates the palate, is, after all, but a nominal entertainment, serving as a pretence for assembling people together, for interrupting business, diversifying idleness; admitting that, perhaps, while gratifying the taste, without nourishing the body, it is quite unsuited to the lower classes. it is a singular fact, too, that at that period there was no other really vigorous defender of the beverage. all the best of the other writers did was to praise its pleasing qualities, associations, and social attributes. still, tea grew in popular favor, privately and publicly. the custom had now become so general that every wife looked upon the tea-pot, cups, and caddy to be as much her right by marriage as the wedding-ring itself. fine ladies enjoyed the crowded public entertainments with tea below stairs and ventilators above. citizens, fortunate enough to have leaden roofs to their houses, took their tea and their ease thereon. on sundays, finding the country lanes leading to kensington, hampstead, highgate, islington, and stepney, "to be much pleasanter than the paths of the gospel," the people flocked to those suburban resorts with their wives and children, to take tea under the trees. in one of coleman's plays, a spitalfield's dame defines the acme of elegance as: "drinking tea on summer afternoons at bagnigge wells with china and gilt spoons." london was surrounded with tea-gardens, the most popular being sadlier's wells, merlin's cave, cromwell gardens, jenny's whim, cuper gardens, london spa, and the white conduit house, where they used to take in fifty pounds on a sunday afternoon for sixpenny tea-tickets. one d'archenholz was surprised by the elegance, beauty, and luxury of these resorts, where, steele said, they swallowed gallons of the juice of tea, while their own dock leaves were trodden under foot. the ending of the east india company's monopoly of the trade, coupled with the fact that the legislature recognized that tea had passed out of the catalogue of luxuries into that of necessities, began a new era for the queen of drinks destined to reign over all other beverages. [illustration of woman] _o tea!_ in the drama of the past thou art featured in the cast; (o tea!) and thou hast played thy part with never a change of heart, (o tea!) for 'mid all the ding and dong waits a welcome--soothing song, for fragrant hyson and oolong. . . . a song of peace, through all the years, of fireside fancies, devoid of fears, of mothers' talks and mothers' lays, of grandmothers' comforts--quiet ways. of gossip, perhaps--still and yet-- what of johnson? would we forget the pictured cup; those merry times, when round the board, with ready rhymes waller, dryden, and addison--young, grave pope to gay, when cowper sung? sydney smith, too; gentle lamb brew, tennyson, dickens, doctor holmes knew. the cup that cheered, those sober souls, and tiny tea-trays, samovars, and bowls. . . . so here's a toast to the queen of plants, the queen of plants--bohea! good wife, ring for your maiden aunts, we'll all have cups of tea. --arthur gray. _tea terms_ japanese ori-mono-châ . . . folded tea giy-ôku-ro-châ . . . dew drop tea usu-châ . . . light tea koi-châ . . . dark tea tô-bi-dashi-châ . . . sifted tea ban-châ . . . common tea yu-shiyutsu-châ . . . export tea neri-châ . . . brick tea koku-châ . . . black tea ko-châ . . . tea dust broken leaves riyoku-châ . . . green tea chinese bohea . . . "happy establishment" so called after two ranges of hills, fu-kien or fo-kien congou . . . labor named so at amoy from the labor in preparing it. sou chong . . . small kind hyson . . . flourishing spring pe-koe . . . white hair so called because only the youngest leaves are gathered, which still have the delicate down--white hair--on the surface. pou-chong . . . folded tea so called at canton after the manner of picking it. brick tea--prepared in central china from the commonest sorts of tea, by soaking the tea refuse, such as broken leaves, twigs, and dust, in boiling water and then pressing them into moulds. used in siberia and mongolia, where it also serves as a medium of exchange. the mongols place the bricks, when testing the quality, on the head, and try to pull downward over the eyes. they reject the brick as worthless if it breaks or bends. [illustration of japanese woman] _tea leaves_ by john ernest mccann according to henry thomas buckle, the author of "the history of civilization in england," who was the master of eighteen languages, and had a library of , volumes, with an income of $ , a year, at the age of twenty-nine, in (he died in , at the age of thirty-nine), tea making and drinking were, or are, what wendell phillips would call lost arts. he thought that, when it came to brewing tea, the chinese philosophers were not living in his vicinity. he distinctly wrote that, until he showed her how, no woman of his acquaintance could make a decent cup of tea. he insisted upon a warm cup, and even spoon, and saucer. not that mr. buckle ever sipped tea from a saucer. of course, he was right in insisting upon those above-mentioned things, for tea-things, like a tea-party, should be in sympathy with the tea, not antagonistic to it. still, not always; for, on one memorable occasion, in the little town of boston, the greatest tea-party in history was anything but sympathetic. but let that pass. emperor kien lung wrote, years or more ago, for the benefit of his children, just before he left the flowery kingdom for a flowerier: "set a tea-pot over a slow fire; fill it with cold water; boil it long enough to turn a lobster red; pour it on the quantity of tea in a porcelain vessel; allow it to remain on the leaves until the vapor evaporates, then sip it slowly, and all your sorrows will follow the vapor." he says nothing about milk or sugar. but, to me, tea without sugar is poison, as it is with milk. i can drink one cup of tea, or coffee, with sugar, but without milk, and feel no ill effects; but if i put milk in either tea or coffee, i am as sick as a defeated candidate for the presidency. that little bit of fact is written as a hint to many who are ill without knowing why they are, after drinking tea, or coffee, with milk in it. i don't think that milk was ever intended for coffee or tea. why should it be? who was the first to color tea and coffee with milk? it may have been a mad prince, in the presence of his flatterers and imitators, to be odd; or just to see if his flatterers would adopt the act. the russians sometimes put champagne in their tea; the germans, beer; the irish, whiskey; the new yorker, ice cream; the english, oysters, or clams, if in season; the true bostonian, rose leaves; and the italian and spaniard, onions and garlic. you all know one of the following lines, imperfectly. scarcely one in one hundred quotes them correctly. _i_ never have quoted them as written, off-hand--but lines run out of my head like schoolboys out of school, "when the lessons and tasks are all ended, and school for the day is dismissed." here are the lines: "now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast; let fall the curtains; wheel the sofa round; and while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn throws up a steamly column, and the cups that cheer, but not inebriate, wait on each, to let us welcome peaceful evening in." isn't that a picture? not one superfluous word in it! who knows its author, or when it was written, or can quote the line before or after "the cups that cheer, but not inebriate"? &&or in what poem the lines run down the ages? i tell you? not i. i don't believe in encouraging laziness. if i tell you, you will let it slip from your memory, like a panic-stricken eel through the fingers of a panic-stricken schoolboy; but if you hunt it up, it will be riveted to your memory, like a ballet, and one never forgets when, where, how, why, and from whom, he receives that. what a pity that, in shakespeare's time, there was no tea-table! what a delightful comedy he could, and would, have written around it, placing the scene in his native stratford! what a charming hostess at a tea-table his mother, mary arden (loveliest of womanly names), would have made! any of the ladies of the delightful "cranford" wouldn't be a circumstance to a tea-table scene in a warwickshire comedy, with lovely mary arden shakespeare as the protagonist, if the comedy were from the pen of her delightful boy, will. had tea been known in shakespeare's time, how much more closely he would have brought his sexes, under one roof, instead of sending the more animal of the two off to the boar's head and the mermaid, leaving the ladies to their own verbal devices. shakespeare, being such a delicate, as well as virile, poet, would have taken to tea as naturally as a bee takes to a rose or honeysuckle; for the very word "tea" suggests all that is fragrant, and clean, and spotless: linen, silver, china, toast, butter, a charming room with charming women, charmingly gowned, and peach and plum and apple trees, with the scent of roses, just beyond the open, half-curtained windows, looking down upon, or over, orchard or garden, as the may or june morning breezes suggest eternal youth, as they fill the room with perfume, tenderness, love, optimism, and hope in immortality. coffee suggests taverns, cafés, sailing vessels, yachts, boarding-houses-by-the-river-side, and pessimism. tea suggests optimism. coffee is a tonic; tea, a comfort. coffee is prose; tea is poetry. whoever thinks of taking coffee into a sick-room? who doesn't think of taking in the comforting cup of tea? can the most vivid imagination picture the angels (above the stars) drinking coffee? no. yet, if i were to show them to you over the teacups, you would not be surprised or shocked. would you? not a bit of it. you would say: "that's a very pretty picture. pray, what are they talking about, or of whom are they talking?" why, of their loved ones below, and of the days of their coming above the stars. they know when to look for us, and while the time may seem long to us before the celestial reunion, to them it is short. they do not worry, as we do. we could not match their beautiful serenity if we tried, for they know the folly of wishing to break or change divine laws. what delightful scandals have been born at tea-tables--rose and lavender, and old point lace scandals: surely, no brutal scandals or treasons, as in the tavern. tea-table gossip surely never seriously hurt a reputation. well, name one. no? well, think of the shattered reputations that have fallen around the bottle. men are the worst gossips unhanged, not women. in , tea sold for as high as £ in the leaf. pepys had his first cup of tea in september, . (see his diary.) the rare recipe for making tea in those days was known only to the elect, and here it is: "to a pint of tea, add the yolks of two fresh eggs; then beat them up with as much fine sugar as is sufficient to sweeten the tea, and stir well together. the water must remain no longer upon the tea than while you can chant the miserere psalm in a leisurely fashion." but i am not indorsing recipes of odd years ago. the above is from the knowledge box of a chinese priest, or a priest from china, called père couplet (don't print it quatrain), in . he gave it to the earl of clarendon, and i extend it to you, if you wish to try it. john milton knew the delights of tea. he drank coffee during the composition of "paradise lost," and tea during the building of "paradise regained." like all good things, animate and inanimate, tea did not become popular without a struggle. it, like the gradual oak, met with many kinds of opposition, from the timid, the prejudiced, and the selfish. all sorts of herbs were put upon the market to offset its popularity; such as onions, sage, marjoram, the arctic bramble, the sloe, goat-weed, mexican goosefoot, speedwell, wild geranium, veronica, wormwood, juniper, saffron, carduus benedictus, trefoil, wood-sorrel, pepper, mace, scurry grass, plantain, and betony. sir hans sloane invented herb tea, and captain cook's companion, dr. solander, invented another tea, but it was no use--tea had come to stay, and a blessing it has been to the world, when moderately used. you don't want to become a tea drunkard, like dr. johnson, nor a coffee fiend, like balzac. be moderate in all things, and you are bound to be happy and live long. moderation in eating, drinking, loving, hating, smoking, talking, acting, fighting, sleeping, walking, lending, borrowing, reading newspapers--in expressing opinions--even in bathing and praying--means long life and happiness. _wit, wisdom, and humor of tea_ tea tempers the spirits and harmonizes the mind, dispels lassitude and relieves fatigue, awakens thought and prevents drowsiness, lightens or refreshes the body, and clears the perceptive faculties.--confucius. thank god for tea! what would the world do without tea?--how did it exist? i am glad i was not born before tea.--sydney smith. "sammy," whispered mr. weller, "if some o' these here people don't want tappin' to-morrow mornin', i ain't your father, and that's wot it is. why this here old lady next me is a drown-in' herself in tea." "be quiet, can't you?" murmured sam. "sam," whispered mr. weller, a moment afterward, in a tone of deep agitation, "mark my words, my boy; if that 'ere secretary feller keeps on for five minutes more, he'll blow himself up with toast and water." "well, let him if he likes," replied sam; "it ain't no bis'ness of yourn." "if this here lasts much longer, sammy," said mr. weller, in the same low voice, "i shall feel it my duty as a human bein' to rise and address the cheer. there's a young 'ooman on the next form but two, as has drank nine breakfast cups and a half; and she's a swellin' wisibly before my wery eyes."--_pickwick papers_. books upon books have been published in relation to the evil effects of tea-drinking, but, for all that, no statistics are at hand to show that their arguments have made teetotalers of tea-drinkers. one of the best things, however, said against tea-drinking is distinctly in its favor to a certain extent. it is from one dr. paulli, who laments that "tea so dries the bodies of the chinese that they can hardly spit." this will find few sympathizers among us. we suggest the quotation to some enterprising tea-dealer to be used in a street-car advertisement. of all methods of making tea, that hit upon by heine's italian landlord was perhaps the most economical. heine lodged in a house at lucca, the first floor of which was occupied by an english family. the latter complained of the cookery of italy in general, and their landlord's in particular. heine declared the landlord brewed the best tea ho had ever tasted in the country, and to convince his doubtful english friends, invited them to take tea with him and his brother. the invitation was accepted. tea-time came, but no tea. when the poet's patience was exhausted, his brother went to the kitchen to expedite matters. there he found his landlord, who, in blissful ignorance of what company the heines had invited, cried: "you can get no tea, for the family on the first floor have not taken tea this evening." the tea that had delighted heine was made from the used leaves of the english party, who found and made their own tea, and thus afforded the landlord an opportunity of obtaining at once praise and profit by this italian method of serving a pot of tea. --_chambers's journal_. [illustration of two women] _fate_ matrons who toss the cup, and see the grounds of fate in grounds of tea. --_churchill_. _tea making and taking in japan and china_ the queen of teas in japan is a fine straw-colored beverage, delicate and subtle in flavor, and as invigorating as a glass of champagne. it is real japan tea, and seldom leaves its native heath for the reason that, while it is peculiarly adaptable to the japanese constitution, it is too stimulating for the finely-tuned and over-sensitive americans, who, by the way, are said to be the largest customers for japan teas of other grades in the world. this particular tea, which looks as harmless as our own importations of the leaf, is a very insidious beverage, as an american lady soon found out after taking some of it late at night. she declared, after drinking a small cup before retiring, she did not close her eyes in sleep for a week. we do not know the name of the brand of tea, and are glad of it; for we live in a section where the women are especially curious. but the drink of the people at large in japan is green tea, although powdered tea is also used, but reserved for special functions and ceremonial occasions. tea, over there, is not made by infusing the leaves with boiling water, as is the case with us; but the boiling water is first carefully cooled in another vessel to degrees fahrenheit. the leaves are also renewed for every infusion. it would be crime against his august majesty, the palate, to use the same leaves more than once--in japan. the preparation of good tea is regarded by the japs as the height of social art, and for that reason it is an important element in the domestic, diplomatic, political, and general life of the country. tea is the beverage--the masterpiece--of every meal, even if it be nothing but boiled rice. every artisan and laborer, going to work, carries with him his rice-box of lacquered wood, a kettle, a tea-caddy, a tea-pot, a cup, and his chop-sticks. milk and sugar are generally eschewed. the japs and the chinese never indulge in either of these ingredients in tea; the use of which, they claim, spoils the delicate aroma. from the highest court circles down to the lowliest and poorest of the emperor's subjects, it is the custom in both japan and china to offer tea to every visitor upon his arrival. not to do this would be an unpardonable breach of national manners. even in the shops, the customer is regaled with a soothing cup before the goods are displayed to him. this does not, however, impose any obligation on the prospective purchaser, but it is, nevertheless, a good stimulant to part with his money. this appears to be a very ancient tradition in china and japan--so ancient that it is continued by the powers that be in paradise and hades, according to a translation called "strange stories from my small library," a classical chinese work published in . the old domestic etiquette of japan never intrusted to a servant the making of tea for a guest. it was made by the master of the house himself; the custom probably growing out of the innate politeness and courtesy of a people who believe that an honored visitor is entitled to the best entertainment possible to give him. as soon as a guest is seated upon his mat, a small tray is set before the master of the house. upon this tray is a tiny tea-pot with a handle at right angles to the spout. other parts of this outfit include a highly artistic tea-kettle filled with hot water, and a requisite number of small cups, set in metal or bamboo trays. these trays are used for handing the cups around, but the guest is not expected to take one. the cups being without handles, and not easy to hold, the visitor must therefore be careful lest he let one slip through his untutored fingers. the tea-pot is drenched with hot water before the tea is put in; then more hot water is poured over the leaves, and soon poured off into the cups. this is repeated several times, but the hot water is never allowed to stand on the grounds over a minute. the japanese all adhere to the general household custom of the country in keeping the necessary tea apparatus in readiness. in the living-room of every house is contained a brazier with live coals, a kettle to boil water, a tray with tea-pot, cups, and a tea-caddy. their neighbors, the chinese, are just as alert; for no matter what hour of the day it may be, they always keep a kettle of boiling water over the hot coals, ready to make and serve the beverage at a moment's notice. no visitor is allowed to leave without being offered a cup of their tea, and they themselves are glad to share in their own hospitality. the chinese use boiling water, and pour it upon the dry tea in each cup. among the better social element is used a cup shaped like a small bowl, with a saucer a little less in diameter than the top of the bowl. this saucer also serves another purpose, and is often used for a cover when the tea is making. after the boiling water is poured upon the tea, it is covered for a couple of minutes, until the leaves have separated and fallen to the bottom of the cup. this process renders the tea clear, delightfully fragrant, and appetizing. a variety of other cups are also used; the most prominent being without handles, one or two sizes larger than the japanese. they are made of the finest china, set in silver trays beautifully wrought, ornate in treatment and design. a complete tea outfit is a part of the outfitting of every _ju-bako_--"picnic-box"--with which every jap is provided when on a journey, making an excursion, or attending a picnic. the japanese are very much given to these out-of-door affairs, which they call _hanami_--"looking at the flowers." no wonder they are fond of these pleasures, for it is a land of lovely landscapes and heaven-sent airs, completely in harmony with the poetic and artistic natures of this splendid people. tea-houses--_châ ya_--which take the place of our cafes and bar rooms, but which, nevertheless, serve a far higher social purpose, are everywhere in evidence, on the high-roads and by-roads, tucked away in templed groves and public resorts of every nature. among the japanese are a number of ceremonial, social, and literary tea-parties which reflect their courtly and chivalrous spirit, and keep alive the traditions of the people more, perhaps, than any other of their functions. the most important of these tea-parties are exclusively for gentlemen, and their forms and ceremonies rank among the most refined usages of polite society. the customs of these gatherings are so peculiarly characteristic of the japanese that few foreign observers have an opportunity of attending them. these are the tea-parties of a semi-literary or aesthetic character, and the ceremonious _châ-no-ya_. in the first prevails the easy and unaffected tone of the well-bred gentleman. in the other are observed the strictest rules of etiquette both in speech and behavior. but the former entertainment is by far the most interesting. the japanese love and taste for fine scenery is shown in the settings and surroundings. to this picturesque outlook, recitals of romance and impromptu poetry add intellectual charm to the tea-party. for these occasions the host selects a tea-house located in well-laid-out grounds and commanding a fine view. in this he lays mats equal to the number of guests. by sliding the partition and removing the front wall the place is transformed into an open hall overlooking the landscape. the room is filled with choice flowers, and the art treasures of the host, which at other times are stored away in the fire-proof vault--"go down"--of his private residence, contribute artistic beauty and decoration to the scene. folding screens and hanging pictures painted by celebrated artists, costly lacquer-ware, bronze, china, and other heirlooms are tastefully distributed about the room. stories told at these tea-parties are called by the japanese names of _châ-banashi_, meaning tea-stories, or _hiti-kuchá_--"one mouth stories," short stories told at one sitting. at times professional story-tellers are employed. of these there are two kinds: story-tellers and "cross-road tradition narrators," both of whom since olden times have been the faithful custodians and disseminators of native folk-lore and tales. these professionals are divided into a number of classes, the most important being the _hanashi-ka_, members of a celebrated company under a well-known manager, who unites them into troops of never less than five or more than seven in number. such companies are often advertised weeks before their arrival in a place by hoisting flags or streamers with the names of the performers thereon. their programme consists of war-stories, traditions, and recitals with musical accompaniment. during the intermission, feats of legerdemain or wrestling fill in the time and give variety to the entertainment. these are the leading professional performers. the other classes, while not held in as high regard by the select, nevertheless have a definite place in japanese amusement circles. one of the latter is the _tsuji-kô-shâku-ji_. this word-swallower does not belong to any company, but is a "free-lance" entertainer. a sort of "has been," he does not, however, rest on his past laurels, but continues to perform whenever he can obtain an audience--on the highways, to passers-by, in public resorts and thoroughfares. although the chinese are not so neat in their public habits as the japs, still their tea-houses and similar resorts are just as numerous and popular as they are in the neighboring country. perhaps the most interesting caterers in china, however, are the coolies, who sell hot water in the rural districts. these itinerants have an ingenious way of announcing their coming by a whistling kettle. this vessel contains a compartment for fire with a funnel going through the top. a coin with a hole is placed so that when the water is boiling a regular steam-whistle is heard. plentiful as tea is in china, however, the poor people there do not consume as good a quality of the leaf as the same class in our own country. especially is this the case in the northern part of china, where most of the inhabitants just live, and that is all. there they are obliged to use the last pickings of tea, commonly known as "brick tea," which is very poor and coarse in quality. it is pressed into bricks about eight by twelve inches in size, and whenever a quantity of it is needed a piece is knocked off and pulverized in a kettle of boiling water. other ingredients, consisting of suit, milk, butter, a little pepper, and vinegar, are added, and this combination constitutes the entire meal of the family. tea in china and japan is the stand-by of every meal--the never-failing and ever-ready refreshment. besides being the courteous offering to the visitor, it serves a high purpose in the home life of these peoples; uniting the family and friends in their domestic life and pleasures at all times and seasons. at home round the brazier and the lamp in winter evenings, at picnic parties and excursions to the shady glen during the fine season, tea is the social connecting medium, the intellectual stimulant and the universal drink of these far-and-away peoples. [illustration of japanese garden] _tea-drinking in other lands_ while tea-drinking outside of japan and china is not attended with any "high-days and holidays," still there are countries where it is just as important element of the daily life of its people as it is in the land of the rising sun. among the burmese a newly-married couple, to insure a happy life, exchange a mixture of tea-leaves steeped in oil. in bokhara, every man carries a small bag of tea about with him. when he is thirsty he hands a certain quantity over to the booth-keeper, who makes the beverage for him. the bokhariot, who is a confirmed tea-slave, finds it just as hard to pass a tea-booth without indulging in the herb as our own inebriates do to go by a corner cafe. his breakfast beverage is _schitschaj_--tea in which bread is soaked and flavored with milk, cream, or mutton fat. during the daytime he drinks green tea with cakes of flour and mutton suet. it is considered a gross breach of manners to cool the hot tea by blowing the breath. this is overcome by supporting the right elbow in the left hand and giving an easy, graceful, circular movement to the cup. the time it takes for each kind of tea to draw is calculated to a second. when the can is emptied it is passed around among the company for each tea-drinker to take up as many leaves as can be held between the thumb and finger; the leaves being considered a special dainty. an english traveller once journeying through asiatic russia was obliged to claim the hospitality of a family of buratsky arabs. at mealtime the mistress of the tent placed a large kettle on the fire, wiped it carefully with a horse's tail, filled it with water, threw in some coarse tea and a little salt. when this was nearly boiled she stirred the mixture with a brass ladle until the liquor became very brown, when she poured it into another vessel. cleaning the kettle as before, the woman set it again on the fire to fry a paste of meal and fresh butter. upon this she poured the tea and some thick cream, stirred it, and after a time the whole. was taken off the fire and set aside to cool. half-pint mugs were handed around and the tea ladled into them: the result, a pasty tea forming meat and drink, satisfying both hunger and thirst. m. vámbéry says: "the picture of a newly encamped caravan in the summer months, on the steppes of central asia, is a truly interesting one. while the camels in the distance, but still in sight, graze greedily, or crush the juicy thistles, the travellers, even to the poorest among them, sit with their tea-cups in their hands and eagerly sip the costly beverage. it is nothing more than a greenish warm water, innocent of sugar, and often decidedly turbid; still, human art has discovered no food, invented no nectar, which is so grateful, so refreshing, in the desert as this unpretending drink. i have still a vivid recollection of its wonderful effects. as i sipped the first drops, a soft fire filled my veins, a fire which enlivened without intoxicating. the later draughts affected both heart and head; the eye became peculiarly bright and began to glow. in such moments i felt an indescribable rapture and sense of comfort. my companions sunk in sleep; i could keep myself awake and dream with open eyes!" tea is the national drink of russia, and as indispensable an ingredient of the table there as bread or meat. it is taken at all hours of the day and night, and in all the griefs of the russian he flies to tea and vodka for mental refuge and consolation. tea is drunk out of tumblers in russia. in the homes of the wealthy these tumblers are held in silver holders like the sockets that hold our soda-water glasses. these holders are decorated, of course, with the russian idea of art. in every russian town tea-houses flourish. in these public resorts a large glass of tea with plenty of sugar in it is served at what would cost, in our money, about two cents. tea with lemon is so general that milk with the drink, over there, is considered a fad. the russians seem to like beverages that bite--set the teeth on edge, as it were. the poor in russia take a lump of sugar in their mouths and let the tea trickle through it. travelling tea-peddlers, equipped with kettles wrapped up in towels to preserve the heat, and a row of glasses in leather pockets, furnish a glass of hot tea at any hour of the day or night. the russian samovar--from the greek "to boil itself"--is a graceful dome-topped brass urn with a cylinder two or three inches in diameter passing through it from top to bottom. the cylinder is filled with live coals, and keeps the water boiling hot. the russian tea-pots are porcelain or earthen. hot water to heat the pot is first put in and then poured out; dry tea is then put in, boiling water poured over it; after which the pot is placed on top of the samovar. we all know about tea-drinking in england. it is not a very picturesque or interesting occasion, at best. to the traditional englishman's mind it means simply a quiet evening at home, attended by the papers, and serious conversations in which the head of the house deals out political and domestic wisdom until ten o'clock. during the day, tea-taking begins with breakfast and rounds up on the fashionable thoroughfares in the afternoon. here one may see the britishers at their best and worst. these places are called "tea-shops," and in them one may acquire the latest hand-shake, the freshest tea and gossip, see the newest modes and millinery, meet and greet the whirl of the world. an interesting study of types, in contrasts and conditions of society, worth the price of a whole chest of choice tea. we are pretty prosaic tea-drinkers in america. is it because there is not enough "touch and go" about the drink, or that we are too busy to settle down to the quiet, comfort, and thoughtful tea-ways of our contemporaries? wait until a few things are settled; when our kitchen queens do not leave us in the "gray of the morning," and all of our daughters have obtained diplomas in the art and science of gastronomy. however made or taken, tea at best or worst is a glorious drink. as a stimulant for the tired traveller and weary worker it is unique in its restful, retiring, soothing, and caressing qualities. _the tea-table_ tho' all unknown to greek and roman song, the paler hyson and the dark souchong, tho' black nor green the warbled praises share of knightly troubadour or gay trouvère, yet deem not thou, an alien quite to numbers, that friend to prattle and that foe to slumbers, which kian-long, imperial poet, praised so high that, cent per cent, its price was raised; which pope himself would sometimes condescend to place commodious at a couplet's end; which the sweet bard of olney did not spurn, who loved the music of the "hissing urn." . . . for the dear comforts of domestic tea are sung too well to stand in need of me by cowper and the bard of rimini; besides, i hold it as a special grace when such a theme is old and commonplace. the cheering lustre of the new-stirr'd fire, the mother's summons to the dozing sire, the whispers audible that oft intrude on the forced silence of the younger brood, the seniors' converse, seldom over new, where quiet dwells and strange events are few, the blooming daughter's ever-ready smile, so full of meaning and so void of guile. and all the little mighty things that cheer the closing day from quiet year to year, i leave to those whom benignant fate or merit destines to the wedded state. . . . 'tis woman still that makes or mars the man. and so it is, the creature can beguile the fairest faces of the readiest smile. the third who comes the hyson to inhale, if not a man, at least appears a male. . . . last of the rout, and dogg'd with public cares, the politician stumbles up the stairs; whose dusky soul nor beauty can illume, nor wine dispel his patriotic gloom. in restless ire from guest to guest he goes, and names us all among our country's foes; swears 'tis a shame that we should drink our tea, 'till wrongs are righted and the nation free, that priests and poets are a venal race, who preach for patronage and rhyme for place; declares that boys and girls should not be cooing. when england's hope is bankruptcy and ruin; that wiser 'twere the coming wrath to fly, and that old women should make haste to die. condensed from a poem published in _fraser's magazine_, january, , and ascribed to hartley coleridge. _ladies, literature, and tea_ in spite of the fact that coffee is just as important a beverage as tea, tea has been sipped more in literature. tea is certainly as much of a social drink as coffee, and more of a domestic, for the reason that the teacup hours are the family hours. as these are the hours when the sexes are thrown together, and as most of the poetry and philosophy of tea-drinking teem with female virtues, vanities, and whimsicalities, the inference is that, without women, tea would be nothing, and without tea, women would be stale, flat, and uninteresting. with them it is a polite, purring, soft, gentle, kind, sympathetic, delicious beverage. in support of this theory, notice what pope, gay, crabbe, cowper, dryden, and others have written on the subject. "the tea-cup times of hood and hoop, and when the patch was worn" --wrote tennyson of the early half of the seventeenth century. what a suggestive couplet, full of the foibles and follies of the times! a picture a la mode of the period when fair dames made their red cheeks cute with eccentric patches. ornamented with high coiffures, powdered hair, robed in satin petticoats and square-cut bodices, they blossomed, according to the old engravings, into most fetching figures. even the beaux of the day affected feminine frills in their many-colored, bell-skirted waistcoats, lace ruffles, patches, and powdered queues. dryden must have succumbed to the charms of women through tea, when he wrote: "and thou, great anna, whom three realms obey, dost sometimes take counsel, and sometimes tay." from the great vogue which tea started grew a taste for china; the more peculiar and striking the design, the more valuable the tea-set. pope in one of his satirical compositions praises the composure of a woman who is "mistress of herself though china fall." even that fine old bachelor, philosopher, and humorist, charles lamb, thought that the subject deserved an essay. in speaking of the ornaments on the tea-cup he says, in "old china": "i like to see my old friends, whom distance cannot diminish, figuring up in the air (so they appear to our optics), yet on terra firma still, for so we must in courtesy interpret that speck of deeper blue which the decorous artist, to prevent absurdity, has made to spring up beneath their sandals. i love the men with women's faces and the women, if possible, with still more womanish expressions. "here is a young and courtly mandarin, handing tea to a lady from a salver--two miles off. see how distance seems to set off respect! and here the same lady, or another--for likeness is identity on tea-cups--is stepping into a little fairy boat, moored on the hither side of this calm garden river, with a dainty, mincing foot, which is in a right angle of incidence (as angles go in our world) that must infallibly land her in the midst of a flowery mead--a furlong off on the other side of the same strange stream!" the _spectator_ and the _tatter_ were also susceptible to the female influence that tea inspired. in both of these journals there are frequent allusions to tea-parties and china. at these gatherings, poets and dilletante literary gentlemen read their verses and essays to the ladies, who criticised their merits. these "literary teas" became so contagious that a burning desire for authorship took possession of the ladies, for among those who made their debut as authors about this time were fanny burney, mrs. alphra behn, mrs. manley, the countess of winchelsea, and a host of others. one of the readers of the _spectator_ wrote as follows: "_mr. spectator:_ your paper is a part of my tea-equipage, and my servant knows my humor so well that, calling for my breakfast this morning (it being past my usual hour), she answered, the _spectator_ was not come in, but that the tea-kettle boiled, and she expected it every minute." crabbe, too, was a devotee of ladies, literature, and tea, for he wrote: "the gentle fair on nervous tea relies, whilst gay good-nature sparkles in her eyes; and inoffensive scandal fluttering round, too rough to tickle and too light to wound." what better proof do we want, therefore, that to women's influence is due the cultivation and retention of the tea habit? without tea, what would become of women, and without women and tea, what would become of our domestic literary men and matinee idols? they would not sit at home or in salons and write and act things. there would be no homes to sit in, no salons or theatres to act in, and dramatic art would receive a blow from which it could not recover in a century, at least. [illustration of woman and cat] in the year , j. roberts, a london publisher, issued a pamphlet of about fifty pages which was made up as follows: poem upon tea in two cantos . . . pages dedication of the poem . . . . . . " preface to the poem . . . . . . . " poem upon the poem . . . . . .. . " introduction to the poem . . . . . " to the author upon the poem . . " postscript . . . . . . . . . .. . " tea-table . . . . . . . . . . . . " the poem--_pièce de résistance_--which is by one nahum tate, who figures on the title-page as "servant to his majesty," is an allegory; and although good in spots is too long and too dry to reproduce here. "the poem upon the poem," "the introduction," and the "tea-table" verses will be found interesting and entertaining. _on our english poetry and this poem upon tea_ see spanish curderon in strength outdone: and see the prize of wit from tasso won: see corneil's skill and decency refin'd; see rapin's art, and molier's fire outshin'd; see dryden's lamp to our admiring view, brought from the tomb to shine and blaze anew! the british laurel by old chaucer worn, still fresh and gay, did dryden's brow adorn; and that its lustre may not fade on thine, wit, fancy, judgment, taste, in thee combine. thy pow'rful genius thus, from censure's frown and envy's blast, in flourishing renown, supports our british muses verdant crown. nor only takes a trusty laureat's care, lest thou the muses garland might'st impair; but, more enrich'd, the chaplet to bequeath, with eastern tea join'd to the laurel-wreath. --r. b. _to the author on his poem upon tea_ let rustick satyr, now no more abuse, in rude unskilful strains, thy tuneful muse; no more let envy lash thy true-bred steed, nor cross thy easy, just, and prudent speed: who dext'rously doth bear or loose the rein, to climb each lofty hill, or scour the plain: with proper weight and force thy courses run; where still thy pegasus has wonders done, come home with strength, and thus the prize has won. but now takes wing, and to the skies aspires; while vanquish'd envy the bold flight admires, and baffled satyr to his den retires. --t. w. _the introduction_ fame sound thy trump, all ranks of mortals call, to share a prize that will enrich 'em all. you that with sacred oracles converse, and clearly wou'd mysterious truths rehearse; on soaring wings of contemplation rise, and fetch discov'ries from above the skies; ethereal tea your notions will resine, till you yourselves become almost divine. you statesmen, who in storms the publick helm wou'd guide with skill, and save a sinking realm, tea, your minerva, shall suggest such sense, such safe and sudden turns of thought dispense, that you, like her ulysses, may advise, and start designs that shall the world surprise. you pleaders, who for conquest at the bar contend as fierce and loud as chiefs in war; would you amaze and charm the list'ning court? first to this spring of eloquence resort: then boldly launch on tully's flowing seas, and grasp the thunder of demosthenes. you artists of the aesculapian tribe, wou'd you, like aesculapius's self, prescribe, cure maladies, and maladies prevent? receive this plant, from your own phoebus sent; whence life's nice lamp in temper is maintain'd, when dim, recruited, when too fierce, restrained. you curious souls, who all our thoughts apply, the hidden works of nature to descry; why veering winds with vari'd motion blow, why seas in settled courses ebb and flow; wou'd you these secrets of her empire know? treat the coy nymph with this celestial dew, like ariadne she'll impart the clue; shall through her winding labyrinths convey, and causes, iculking in their cells, display. you that to isis's bark or cam retreat, wou'd you prove worthy sons of either seat, and all in learning's commonwealth be great? infuse this leaf, and your own streams shall bring more science than the fam'd castalian spring. wou'd you, o musick's sons, your art compleat, and all its ancient miracles repeat, rouse rev'ling monarchs into martial rage, and, when inflam'd, with softer notes as swage; the tedious hours of absent love beguile, charm care asleep, and make affliction smile? carouse in tea, that will your souls inspire; drink phoebus's liquor and command his lyre. sons of appelles, wou'd you draw the face and shape of venus, and with equal grace in some elysian field the figure place? your fancy, warm'd by tea, with wish'd success, shall beauty's queen in all her charms express; with nature's rural pride your landscape fill the shady grotto, and the sunny hill, the laughing meadow, and the talking rill. sons of the muses, would you charm the plains with chearful lays, or sweet condoling strains; or with a sonnet make the vallies ring, to welcome home the goddess of the spring? or wou'd you in sublimer themes engage, and sing of worthies who adorn the age? or, with promethean boldness, wou'd aspire to catch a spark of the celestial fire that crowned the royal conquest, and could raise juverne's boyn above scamander's praise? drink, drink inspiring tea, and boldly draw a hercules, a mars, or a nassau. _the tea-table_ hail, queen of plants, pride of elysian bow'rs! how shall we speak thy complicated pow'rs? thou won'drous panacea to asswage the calentures of youths' fermenting rage, and animate the freezing veins of age. to bacchus when our griefs repair for ease, the remedy proves worse than the disease. where reason we must lose to keep the round, and drinking others health's, our own confound: whilst tea, our sorrows to beguile, sobriety and mirth does reconcile: for to this nectar we the blessing owe, to grow more wise, as we more cheerful grow. whilst fancy does her brightest beams dispense, and decent wit diverts without offense. then in discourse of nature's mystick pow'rs and noblest themes, we pass the well spent hours. whilst all around the virtues' sacred band, and list'ning graces, pleas'd attendants, stand. thus our tea-conversation we employ, where with delight, instruction we enjoy; quaffing, without the waste of time or wealth, the sov'reign drink of pleasure and of health. _dr. johnson's affinity_ dr. samuel johnson drew his own portrait thus: "a hardened and shameless tea-drinker, who for twenty years diluted his meals with the infusion of this fascinating plant; whose kettle had scarcely time to cool; who with tea amused the evening, with tea solaced the midnight, and with tea welcomed the morning." _earliest mention of tea_ according to a magazinist, the first mention of tea by an englishman is to be found in a letter from mr. wickham, an agent of the east india company, written from japan, on the th of june, , to mr. eaton, another officer of the company, a resident of macao, asking him to send "a pot of the best chaw." in mr. eaton's accounts of expenditure occurs this item: "three silver porringiys to drink chaw in." _australian tea_ in the interior of australia all the men drink tea. they drink it all day long, and in quantities and at a strength that would seem to be poisonous. on sunday morning the tea-maker starts with a clean pot and a clean record. the pot is hung over the fire with a sufficiency of water in it for the day's brew, and when this has boiled he pours into it enough of the fragrant herb to produce a deep, coffee-colored liquid. on monday, without removing yesterday's tea-leaves, he repeats the process; on tuesday da capo and on wednesday da capo, and so on through the week. toward the close of it the great pot is filled with an acrid mash of tea-leaves, out of which the liquor is squeezed by the pressure of a tin cup. by this time the tea is of the color of rusty iron, incredibly bitter and disagreeable to the uneducated palate. the native calls it "real good old post and rails," the simile being obviously drawn from a stiff and dangerous jump, and regards it as having been brought to perfection. _five-o'clock tea_ there is a fallacy among certain tea-fanciers that the origin of five-o'clock tea was due to hygienic demand. these students of the stomach contend that as a tonic and gentle stimulant, when not taken with meat, it is not to be equalled. with meat or any but light food it is considered harmful. taken between luncheon and dinner it drives away fatigue and acts as a tonic. this is good if true, but it is only a theory, after all. our theory is that five o'clock in the afternoon is the ladies' leisure hour, and that the taking of tea at that time is an escape from _ennui_. _tea in ladies' novels_ what would women novelists do without tea in their books? the novelists of the rougher sex write of "over the coffee and cigars"; or, "around the gay and festive board"; or, "over a bottle of old port"; or, "another bottle of dry and sparkling champagne was cracked"; or, "and the succulent welsh rarebits were washed down with royal mugs of musty ale"; or, "as the storm grew fiercer, the captain ordered all hands to splice the main brace," _i. e._, to take a drink of rum; or, "as he gulped down the last drink of fiery whiskey, he reeled through the tavern door, and his swaying form drifted into the bleak, black night, as a roar of laughter drowned his repentant sobs." but the ladies of the novel confine themselves almost exclusively to tea--rarely allowing their heroes and heroines to indulge in even coffee, though they sometimes treat their heroes to wine; but their heroines rarely get anything from them but oolong. [illustration of old russian samovar] _sydney smith_ one evening when sidney smith was drinking tea with mrs. austin the servant entered the crowded room with a boiling tea-kettle in his hand. it seemed doubtful, nay, impossible, he should make his way among the numerous gossips--but on the first approach of the steaming kettle the crowd receded on all sides, mr. smith among the rest, though carefully watching the progress of the lad to the table. "i declare," said he, addressing mrs. austin, "a man who wishes to make his way in life could do no better than go through the world with a boiling tea-kettle in his hand."--_life of rev. sydney smith_. _dr. johnson again_ the good doctor evidently lived up to his reputation as a tea-drinker at all times and places. cumberland, the dramatist, in his memoirs gives a story illustrative of the doctor's tea-drinking powers: "i remember when sir joshua reynolds, at my home, reminded dr. johnson that he had drunk eleven cups of tea. 'sir,' he replied, 'i did not count your glasses of wine; why should you number my cups of tea?'" at another time a certain lady macleod, after pouring out sixteen cups for him, ventured mildly to ask whether a basin would not save him trouble and be more convenient. "i wonder, madam," he replied, roughly, "why all ladies ask such questions?" "it is to save yourself trouble, not me," was the tactful answer of his hostess. _a cup of tea_ _from st. nicholas, december, _. now grietje from her window sees the leafless poplars lean against a windy sunset sky with streaks of golden green; the still canal is touched with light from that wild, wintry sky, and, dark and gaunt, the windmill flings its bony arms on high. "it's growing late; it's growing cold; i'm all alone," says she; "i'll put the little kettle on, to make a cup of tea!" mild radiance from the porcelain stove reflects on shining tiles; the kettle beams, so red and bright that grietje thinks it smiles; the kettle sings--so soft and low it seems as in a dream-- the song that's like a lullaby, the pleasant song of steam: "the summer's gone; the storks are flown; i'm always here, you see, to sing and sing, and shine, and shine, and make a cup of tea!" the blue delft plates and dishes gleam, all ranged upon the shelf; the tall dutch clock tick-ticks away, just talking to itself; the brindled pussy cuddles down, and basks and blinks and purrs; and rosy, sleepy grietje droops that snow-white cap of hers. "i do like winter after all; i'm very glad," says she, "i put--my--little--kettle--on--to make--a cup--of--tea!" --helen gray cone. [illustration of landscape] [illustration] [illustration: the queen of sheba before solomon (_costume of th century_.) fac-simile of a miniature from the _breviary_ of the cardinal grimani, attributed to memling. bibl. of s. marc, venice. (from a copy in the possession of m. ambroise firmin-didot.) the king inclines his sceptre towards the queen indicating his appreciation of her person and her gifts; five ladies attend the queen and five of the king's courtiers stand on his right hand.] manners, customs, and dress during the middle ages, and during the renaissance period. by paul lacroix (bibliophile jacob), curator of the imperial library of the arsenal, paris. illustrated with nineteen chromolithographic prints by f. kellerhoven and upwards of _four hundred engravings on wood_. preface. the several successive editions of "the arts of the middle ages and period of the renaissance" sufficiently testify to its appreciation by the public. the object of that work was to introduce the reader to a branch of learning to which access had hitherto appeared only permitted to the scientific. that attempt, which was a bold one, succeeded too well not to induce us to push our researches further. in fact, art alone cannot acquaint us entirely with an epoch. "the arts, considered in their generality, are the true expressions of society. they tell us its tastes, its ideas, and its character." we thus spoke in the preface to our first work, and we find nothing to modify in this opinion. art must be the faithful expression of a society, since it represents it by its works as it has created them--undeniable witnesses of its spirit and manners for future generations. but it must be acknowledged that art is only the consequence of the ideas which it expresses; it is the fruit of civilisation, not its origin. to understand the middle ages and the renaissance, it is necessary to go back to the source of its art, and to know the life of our fathers; these are two inseparable things, which entwine one another, and become complete one by the other. the manners and customs of the middle ages:--this subject is of the greatest interest, not only to the man of science, but to the man of the world also. in it, too, "we retrace not only one single period, but two periods quite distinct one from the other." in the first, the public and private customs offer a curious mixture of barbarism and civilisation. we find barbarian, roman, and christian customs and character in presence of each other, mixed up in the same society, and very often in the same individuals. everywhere the most adverse and opposite tendencies display themselves. what an ardent struggle during that long period! and how full, too, of emotion is its picture! society tends to reconstitute itself in every aspect. she wants to create, so to say, from every side, property, authority, justice, &c., &c., in a word, everything which can establish the basis of public life; and this new order of things must be established by means of the elements supplied at once by the barbarian, roman, and christian world--a prodigious creation, the working of which occupied the whole of the middle ages. hardly does modern society, civilised by christianity, reach the fullness of its power, than it divides itself to follow different paths. ancient art and literature resuscitates because custom _insensibly_ takes that direction. under that influence, everything is modified both in private and public life. the history of the human race does not present a subject more vast or more interesting. it is a subject we have chosen to succeed our first book, and which will be followed by a similar study on the various aspects of religious and military life. this work, devoted to the vivid and faithful description of the manners and customs of the middle ages and renaissance, answers fully to the requirements of contemporary times. we are, in fact, no longer content with the chronological narration and simple nomenclatures which formerly were considered sufficient for education. we no longer imagine that the history of our institutions has less interest than that of our wars, nor that the annals of the humbler classes are irrelevant to those of the privileged orders. we go further still. what is above all sought for in historical works nowadays is the physiognomy, the inmost character of past generations. "how did our fathers live?" is a daily question. "what institutions had they? what were their political rights? can you not place before us their pastimes, their hunting parties, their meals, and all sorts of scenes, sad or gay, which composed their home life? we should like to follow them in public and private occupations, and to know their manner of living hourly, as we know our own." in a high order of ideas, what great facts serve as a foundation to our history and that of the modern world! we have first royalty, which, weak and debased under the merovingians, rises and establishes itself energetically under pépin and charlemagne, to degenerate under louis le débonnaire and charles le chauve. after having dared a second time to found the empire of the caesars, it quickly sees its sovereignty replaced by feudal rights, and all its rights usurped by the nobles, and has to struggle for many centuries to recover its rights one by one. feudalism, evidently of germanic origin, will also attract our attention, and we shall draw a rapid outline of this legislation, which, barbarian at the onset, becomes by degrees subject to the rules of moral progress. we shall ascertain that military service is the essence itself of the "fief," and that thence springs feudal right. on our way we shall protest against civil wars, and shall welcome emancipation and the formation of the communes. following the thousand details of the life of the people, we shall see the slave become serf, and the serf become peasant. we shall assist at the dispensation of justice by royalty and nobility, at the solemn sittings of parliaments, and we shall see the complicated details of a strict ceremonial, which formed an integral part of the law, develop themselves before us. the counters of dealers, fairs and markets, manufactures, commerce, and industry, also merit our attention; we must search deeply into corporations of workmen and tradesmen, examining their statutes, and initiating ourselves into their business. fashion and dress are also a manifestation of public and private customs; for that reason we must give them particular attention. and to accomplish the work we have undertaken, we are lucky to have the conscientious studies of our old associates in the great work of the middle ages and the renaissance to assist us: such as those of emile bégin, elzéar blaze, depping, benjamin guérard, le roux de lincy, h. martin, mary-lafon, francisque michel, a. monteil, rabutau, ferdinand séré, horace de viel-castel, a. de la villegille, vallet de viriville. as in the volume of the arts of the middle ages, engraving and chromo-lithography will come to our assistance by reproducing, by means of strict fac-similes, the rarest engravings of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and the most precious miniatures of the manuscripts preserved in the principal libraries of france and europe. here again we have the aid of the eminent artist, m. kellerhoven, who quite recently found means of reproducing with so much fidelity the gems of italian painting. paul lacroix (bibliophile jacob). table of contents. condition of persons and lands disorganization of the west at the beginning of the middle ages.--mixture of roman, germanic, and gallic institutions.--fusion organized under charlemagne.--royal authority.--position of the great feudalists.--division of the territory and prerogatives attached to landed possessions.--freeman and tenants.--the læti, the colon, the serf, and the labourer, who may be called the origin of the modern lower classes.--formation of communities.--right of mortmain. privileges and rights (feudal and municipal) elements of feudalism.--rights of treasure-trove, sporting, safe-conducts, ransom, disinheritance, &c.--immunity of the feudalists.--dues from the nobles to their sovereign.--law and university dues.--curious exactions resulting from the universal system of dues.--struggles to enfranchise the classes subjected to dues.--feudal spirit and citizen spirit.--resuscitation of the system of ancient municipalities in italy, germany, and france.--municipal institutions and associations.--the community.--the middle-class cities (_cités bourgeoises_).--origin of national unity. private life in the castles, the towns, and the rural districts the merovingian castles.--pastimes of the nobles: hunting, war.--domestic arrangements.--private life of charlemagne.--domestic habits under the carlovingians.--influence of chivalry.--simplicity of the court of philip augustus not imitated by his successors.--princely life of the fifteenth century.--the bringing up of latour landry, a noble of anjou.--varlets, pages, esquires, maids of honour.--opulence of the bourgeoisie.--"le ménagier de paris."--ancient dwellings.--state of rustics at various periods.--"rustic sayings," by noël du fail. food and cookery history of bread.--vegetables and plants used in cooking.--fruits.--butchers' meat.--poultry, game.--milk, butter, cheese, and eggs.--fish and shellfish.--beverages: beer, cider, wine, sweet wine, refreshing drinks, brandy.--cookery.--soups, boiled food, pies, stews, salads, roasts, grills.--seasoning, truffles, sugar, verjuice.--sweets, desserts, pastry,--meals and feasts.--rules of serving at table from the fifteenth to the sixteenth centuries. hunting venery and hawking.--origin of aix-la-chapelle.--gaston phoebus and his book.--the presiding deities of sportsmen.--sporting societies and brotherhoods.--sporting kings: charlemagne, louis ix., louis xi., charles viii., louis xii., francis i., &c.--treatise on venery.--sporting popes.--origin of hawking.--training birds.--hawking retinues.--book of king modus.--technical terms used in hawking.--persons who have excelled in this kind of sport.--fowling. games and pastimes games of the ancient greeks and romans.--games of the circus.--animal combats.--daring of king pepin.--the king's lions.--blind men's fights.--cockneys of paris.--champ de mars.--cours plénières and cours couronnées.--jugglers, tumblers, and minstrels.--rope-dancers.--fireworks.--gymnastics.--cards and dice.--chess, marbles, and billiards.--la soule, la pirouette, &c.--small games for private society.--history of dancing.--ballet des ardents.--the "orchésographie" (art of dancing) of thoinot arbeau.--list of dances. commerce state of commerce after the fall of the roman empire; its revival under the frankish kings; its prosperity under charlemagne; its decline down to the time of the crusaders.--the levant trade of the east.--flourishing state of the towns of provence and languedoc.--establishment of fairs.--fairs of landit, champagne, beaucaire, and lyons.--weights and measures.--commercial flanders.--laws of maritime commerce.--consular laws.--banks and bills of exchange.--french settlements on the coast of africa.--consequences of the discovery of america. guilds and trade corporations uncertain origin of corporations.--ancient industrial associations.--the germanic guild.--colleges.--teutonic associations.--the paris company for the transit of merchandise by water.--corporations properly so called.--etienne boileau's "book of trades," or the first code of regulations.--the laws governing trades.--public and private organization of trades corporations and other communities.--energy of the corporations.--masters, journeymen, supernumeraries, and apprentices.--religious festivals and trade societies.--trade unions. taxes, money, and finance taxes under the roman rule.--money exactions of the merovingian kings.--varieties of money.--financial laws under charlemagne.--missi dominici.--increase of taxes owing to the crusades.--organization of finances by louis ix.--extortions of philip lo bel.--pecuniary embarrassment of his successors.--charles v. re-establishes order in finances.--disasters of france under charles vi., charles vii., and jacques coeur.--changes in taxation from louis xi. to francis i.--the great financiers.--florimond robertet. law and the administration of justice the family the origin of government.--origin of supreme power amongst the franks.--the legislation of barbarism humanised by christianity.--right of justice inherent to the right of property.--the laws under charlemagne.--judicial forms.--witnesses.--duels, &c.--organization of royal justice under st. louis.--the châtelet and the provost of paris.--jurisdiction of parliament, its duties and its responsibilities.--the bailiwicks.--struggles between parliament and the châtelet.--codification of the customs and usages.--official cupidity.--comparison between the parliament and the châtelet. secret tribunals the old man of the mountain and his followers in syria.--the castle of alamond, paradise of assassins.--charlemagne the founder of secret tribunals amongst the saxons.--the holy vehme.--organization of the tribunal of the _terre rouge_, and modes adopted in its procedures.--condemnations and execution of sentences.--the truth respecting the free judges of westphalia.--duration and fall of the vehmie tribunal.--council of ten, in venice; its code and secret decisions.--end of the council of ten. punishments refinements of penal cruelty.--tortures for different purposes.--water, screw-boards, and the rack.--the executioner.--female executioners.--tortures.--amende honorable.--torture of fire, real and feigned.--auto-da-fé.--red-hot brazier or basin.--beheading.--quartering.--the wheel.--garotting.--hanging.--the whip.--the pillory.--the arquebuse.--tickling.--flaying.--drowning.--imprisonment.--regulations of prisons.--the iron cage.--"the leads" of venice. jews dispersion of the jews.--jewish quarters in the mediæval towns.--the _ghetto_ of rome.--ancient prague.--the _giudecca_ of venice.--condition of the jews; animosity of the people against them; vexations treatment and severity of the sovereigns.--the jews of lincoln.--the jews of blois.--mission of the _pastoureaux_.--extermination of the jews.--the price at which the jews purchased indulgences.--marks set upon them.--wealth, knowledge, industry, and financial aptitude of the jews.--regulations respecting usury as practised by the jews.--attachment of the jews to their religion. gipsies, tramps, beggars, and cours des miracles first appearance of gipsies in the west.--gipsies in paris.--manners and customs of these wandering tribes.--tricks of captain charles.--gipsies expelled by royal edict.--language of gipsies.--the kingdom of slang.--the great coesre, chief of the vagrants; his vassals and subjects.--divisions of the slang people; its decay, and the causes thereof.--cours des miracles.--the camp of rogues.--cunning language, or slang.--foreign rogues, thieves, and pickpockets. ceremonials origin of modern ceremonial.--uncertainty of french ceremonial up to the end of the sixteenth century.--consecration of the kings of france.--coronation of the emperors of germany.--consecration of the doges of venice.--marriage of the doge with the sea.--state entries of sovereigns.--an account of the entry of isabel of bavaria into paris.--seats of justice.--visits of ceremony between persons of rank.--mourning.--social courtesies.--popular demonstrations and national commemorations--new year's day.--local festivals.--_vins d'honneur_.--processions of trades. costumes influence of ancient costume.--costume in the fifteenth century.--hair.--costumes in the time of charlemagne.--origin of modern national dress.--head-dresses and beards: time of st. louis.--progress of dress: trousers, hose, shoes, coats, surcoats, capes.--changes in the fashions of shoes and hoods.--_livrée_.--cloaks and capes.--edicts against extravagant fashions.--female dress: gowns, bonnets, head-dresses, &c.--disappearance of ancient dress.--tight-fitting gowns.--general character of dress under francis i.--uniformity of dress. table of illustrations. i. chromolithographs. . the queen of sheba before solomon. fac-simile of a miniature from the breviary of cardinal grimani, attributed to memling. costumes of the fifteenth century. . the court of marie of anjou, wife of charles vii. fac-simile of a miniature from the "douze perilz d'enfer." costumes of the fifteenth century. . louis xii. leaving alexandria, on the th april, , to chastise the city of genoa. from a miniature in the "voyage de gênes" of jean marot. . a young mother's retinue. miniature from a latin "terence" of charles vi. costumes of the fourteenth century. . table service of a lady of quality. fac-simile of a miniature in the "roman de renaud de montauban." costumes of the fifteenth century. . ladies hunting. from a miniature in a manuscript copy of "ovid's epistles." costumes of the fifteenth century. . a court fool. fac-simile of a miniature in a manuscript of the fifteenth century. . the chess-players. after a miniature of the "three ages of man." (end of the fifteenth century.) . martyrdom of ss. crispin and crépinien. from a window in the hôpital des quinze-vingts (fifteenth century). . settlement of accounts by the brotherhood of charité-dieu, rouen, in . a miniature from the "livre des comptes" of this society (fifteenth century). . decapitation of guillaume de pommiers and his confessor at bordeaux in ("chroniques de froissart"). . the jews' passover. fac-simile of a miniature in a missal of the fifteenth century of the school of van eyck. . entry of charles vii. into paris. a miniature from the "chroniques d'enguerrand de monstrelet." costumes of the sixteenth century. . st. catherine surrounded by the doctors of alexandria. a miniature from the breviary of cardinal grimani, attributed to memling. costumes of the fifteenth century. . italian lace-work, in gold-thread. the cypher and arms of henri iii. (sixteenth century). ii. engravings. aigues-mortes, ramparts of the town of alms bag, fifteenth century amende honorable before the tribunal america, discovery of anne of brittany and the ladies of her court archer, in fighting dress, fifteenth century armourer arms of louis xi. and charlotte of savoy arms, various, fifteenth century bailiwick bailliage, or tribunal of the king's bailiff, sixteenth century baker, the, sixteenth century balancing, feats of, thirteenth century ballet, representation of a, before henri iii. and his court banner of the coopers of bayonne " " la rochelle " corporation of bakers of arras " " bakers of paris " " boot and shoe makers of issoudun " corporation of publichouse-keepers of montmédy " corporation of publichouse-keepers of tonnerre " drapers of caen " harness-makers of paris " nail-makers of paris " pastrycooks of caen " " la rochelle " " tonnerre " tanners of vie " tilers of paris " weavers of toulon " wheelwrights of paris banquet, grand, at the court of france barber barnacle geese barrister, fifteenth century basin-maker bastille, the bears and other beasts, how they may be caught with a dart beggar playing the fiddle beheading bell and canon caster bird-catching, fourteenth century bird-piping, fourteenth century blind and poor sick of st. john, fifteenth century bob apple, the game of bootmaker's apprentice working at a trial-piece, thirteenth century bourbon, constable de, trial of, before the peers of france bourgeois, thirteenth century brandenburg, marquis of brewer, the, sixteenth century brotherhood of death, member of the burgess of ghent and his wife, from a window of the fifteenth century burgess at meals burgesses with hoods, fourteenth century burning ballet, the butcher, the, sixteenth century butler at his duties cards for a game of piquet, sixteenth century carlovingian king in his palace carpenter, fifteenth century carpenter's apprentice working at a trial-piece, fifteenth century cast to allure beasts castle of alamond, the cat-o'-nine-tails celtic monument (the holy ox) chamber of accounts, hotel of the chandeliers in bronze, fourteenth century charlemagne, the emperor " coronation of " dalmatica and sandals of " receiving the oath of fidelity from one of his great barons " portrait of charles, eldest son of king pepin, receiving the news of the death of his father charles v. and the emperor charles iv., interview between château-gaillard aux andelys châtelet, the great cheeses, the manufacture of, sixteenth century chilpéric, tomb of, eleventh century clasp-maker cloth to approach beasts, how to carry a cloth-worker coins, gold merovingian, - " gold, sixth and seventh centuries " " fourteenth and fifteenth centuries " gold and silver, thirteenth century " " fifteenth and sixteenth centuries " silver, eighth to eleventh centuries cologne, view of, sixteenth century comb in ivory, sixteenth century combat of a knight with a dog, thirteenth century companion carpenter, fifteenth century cook, the, sixteenth century coppersmith, the, sixteenth century corn-threshing and bread-making, sixteenth century costume of emperors at their coronation since the time of charlemagne " king childebert, seventh century " king clovis, sixth century " saints in the sixth to eighth century " prelates, eighth to tenth century " a scholar of the carlovingian period costume of a scholar, ninth century " a bishop or abbot, ninth century " charles the simple, tenth century " louis le jeune " a princess " william malgeneste, the king's huntsman " an english servant, fourteenth century " philip the good " charles v., king of france " jeanne de bourbon " charlotte of savoy " mary of burgundy " the ladies of the court of catherine de medicis " a gentleman of the french court, sixteenth century " the german bourgeoisie, sixteenth century costumes, italian, fifteenth century costumes of the thirteenth century " the common people, fourteenth century " a rich bourgeoise, of a peasant-woman, and of a lady of the nobility, fourteenth century " a young nobleman and of a bourgeois, fourteenth century " a bourgeois or merchant, of a nobleman, and of a lady of the court or rich bourgeoise, fifteenth century " a mechanic's wife and a rich bourgeois, fifteenth century " young noblemen of the court of charles viii " a nobleman, a bourgeois, and a noble lady, of the time of louis xii " a rich bourgeoise and a nobleman, time of francis i counter-seal of the butchers of bruges in country life cour des miracles of paris court fool " of love in provence, fourteenth century " of the nobles, the " supreme, presided over by the king " of a baron, the " inferior, in the great bailiwick courtiers amassing riches at the expense of the poor, fourteenth century courts of love in provence, allegorical scene of, thirteenth century craftsmen, fourteenth century cultivation of fruit, fifteenth century " grain, and manufacture of barley and oat bread dance called "la gaillarde" " of fools, thirteenth century " by torchlight dancers on christmas night david playing on the lyre dealer in eggs, sixteenth century deer, appearance of, and how to hunt them with dogs deputies of the burghers of ghent, fourteenth century dice-maker distribution of bread, meat, and wine doge of venice, costume of the, before the sixteenth century " in ceremonial costume of the sixteenth century " procession of the dog-kennel, fifteenth century dogs, diseases of, and their cure, fourteenth century dortmund, view of, sixteenth century _drille_, or _narquois_, fifteenth century drinkers of the north, the great druggist dues on wine dyer edict, promulgation of an elder and juror, ceremonial dress of an elder and jurors of the tanners of ghent eloy, st., signature of empalement entry of louis xi. into paris equestrian performances, thirteenth century estrapade, the, or question extraordinary executions exhibitor of strange animals falcon, how to train a new, fourteenth century " how to bathe a new falconer, dress of the, thirteenth century " german, sixteenth century falconers, thirteenth century " dressing their birds, fourteenth century falconry, art of, king modus teaching the, fourteenth century " varlets of, fourteenth century families, the, and the barbarians fight between a horse and dogs, thirteenth century fireworks on the water fish, conveyance of, by water and land flemish peasants, fifteenth century franc, silver, henry iv. franks, fourth to eighth century " king or chief of the, ninth century " king of the, dictating the salic law frédégonde giving orders to assassinate sigebert, from a window of the fifteenth century free judges funeral token gallo-roman costumes gaston phoebus teaching the art of venery german beggars " knights, fifteenth century " soldiers, sixth to twelfth century " sportsman, sixteenth century ghent, civic guard of gibbet of montfaucon, the gipsies fortune-telling " on the march gipsy encampment " family, a " who used to wash his hands in molten lead goldbeater goldsmith goldsmiths of ghent, names and titles of some of the members of the corporation of, fifteenth century " group of, seventeenth century. grain-measurers of ghent, arms of the grape, treading the grocer and druggist, shop of a, seventeenth century hanging to music hare, how to allure the hatter hawking, lady setting out, fourteenth century hawks, young, how to make them fly, fourteenth century hay-carriers, sixteenth century herald, fourteenth century heralds, lodge of the heron-hawking, fourteenth century hostelry, interior of an, sixteenth century hôtel des ursins, paris, fourteenth century hunting-meal imperial procession infant richard, the, crucified by the jews at pontoise irmensul and crodon, idols of the ancient saxons iron cage issue de table, the italian beggar " jew, fourteenth century " kitchen, interior of " nobleman, fifteenth century jacques coeur, amende honorable of, before charles vii " house of, at bourges jean jouvenel des ursins, provost of paris, and michelle de vitry, his wife (reign of charles vi.) jerusalem, view and plan of jew, legend of a, calling the devil from a vessel of blood jewish ceremony before the ark " conspiracy in france " procession jews taking the blood from christian children " of cologne burnt alive, the " expulsion of the, in the reign of the emperor hadrian " secret meeting of the john the baptist, decapitation of john the fearless, duke of burgundy, assassination of judge, fifteenth century judicial duel, the jugglers exhibiting monkeys and bears, thirteenth century " performing in public, thirteenth century king-at-arms presenting the sword to the duc de bourbon king's court, the, or grand council, fifteenth century kitchen, interior of a, sixteenth century. " and table utensils knife-handles in ivory, sixteenth century knight in war-harness knight and his lady, fourteenth century knights and men-at-arms of the reign of louis le gros labouring colons, twelfth century lambert of liége, st., chimes of the clock of landgrave of thuringia and his wife lawyer, sixteenth century leopard, hunting with the, sixteenth century lubeck and its harbour, view of, sixteenth century maidservants, dress of, thirteenth century mallet, louis de, admiral of france mark's place, st., venice, sixteenth century marseilles and its harbour, view and plan of, sixteenth century measurers of corn, paris, sixteenth century measuring salt merchant vessel in a storm merchants and lion-keepers at constantinople merchants of rouen, medal to commemorate the association of the merchants of rouen, painting commemorative of the union of, seventeenth century merchants or tradesmen, fourteenth century metals, the extraction of miller, the, sixteenth century mint, the, sixteenth century musician accompanying the dancing new-born child, the nicholas flamel, and pernelle, his wife, from a painting of the fifteenth century nobility, costumes of the, from the seventh to the ninth century " ladies of the, in the ninth century noble ladies and children, dress of, fourteenth century noble lady and maid of honour, fourteenth century noble of provence, fifteenth century nobleman hunting nogent-le-rotrou, tower of the castle of nut-crackers, sixteenth century occupations of the peasants officers of the table and of the chamber of the imperial court oil, the manufacture of, sixteenth century old man of the mountain, the olifant, or hunting-horn, fourteenth century " " details of orphaus, gallois, and family of the grand coesre, fifteenth century palace, the, sixteenth century palace of the doges, interior court of the paris, view of partridges, way to catch paying toll on passing a bridge peasant dances at the may feasts pheasant-fowling, fourteenth century philippe le bel in war-dress pillory, view of the, in the market-place of paris, sixteenth century pin and needle maker ploughmen. fac-simile of a miniature in very ancient anglo-saxon manuscript pond fisherman, the pont aux changeurs, view of the ancient pork-butcher, the, fourteenth century poulterer, the, sixteenth century poultry-dealer, the powder-horn, sixteenth century provost's prison, the provostship of the merchants of paris, assembly of the, sixteenth century punishment by fire, the purse or leather bag, with knife or dagger, fifteenth century receiver of taxes, the remy, st., bishop of rheirns, begging of clovis the restitution of the sacred vase, fifteenth century river fishermen, the, sixteenth century roi de l'epinette, entry of the, at lille roman soldiers, sixth to twelfth century royal costume _ruffés_ and _millards_, fifteenth century sainte-geneviève, front of the church of the abbey of sale by town-crier salt-cellar, enamelled, sixteenth century sandal or buskin of charlemagne saxony, duke of sbirro, chief of seal of the bateliers of bruges in " corporation of carpenters of st. trond (belgium) " corporation of clothworkers of bruges " corporation of fullers of st. trond " corporation of joiners of bruges " " shoemakers of st. trond " corporation of wool-weavers of hasselt " free count hans vollmar von twern " free count heinrich beckmann " " herman loseckin " " johann croppe " king chilpéric " united trades of ghent, fifteenth century seat of justice held by philippe de valois secret tribunal, execution of the sentences of the sémur, tower of the castle of serf or vassal, tenth century serjeants-at-arms, fourteenth century shepherds celebrating the birth of the messiah shoemaker shops under covered market, fifteenth century shout and blow horns, how to simon, martyrdom of, at trent slaves or serfs, sixth to twelfth century somersaults sport with dogs, fourteenth century spring-board, the spur-maker squirrels, way to catch stag, how to kill and cut up a, fifteenth century staircase of the office of the goldsmiths of rouen, fifteenth century stall of carved wood, fifteenth century standards of the church and the empire state banquet, sixteenth century stoertebeck, execution of styli, fourteenth century swineherd swiss grand provost sword-dance to the sound of the bagpipe, fourteenth century sword-maker table of a baron, thirteenth century tailor talebot the hunchback tinman tithe of beer, fifteenth century token of the corporation of carpenters of antwerp token of the corporation of carpenters of maëstricht toll under the bridges of paris toll on markets, levied by a cleric, fifteenth century torture of the wheel, demons applying the tournaments in honour of the entry of queen isabel into paris tower of the temple, paris trade on the seaports of the levant, fifteenth century transport of merchandise on the backs of camels university of paris, fellows of the, haranguing the emperor charles iv. varlet or squire carrying a halberd, fifteenth century view of alexandria, sixteenth century village feast, sixteenth century village pillaged by soldiers villain, the covetous and avaricious villain, the egotistical and envious villain or peasant, fifteenth century villain receiving his lord's orders vine, culture of the vintagers, the, thirteenth century votive altar of the nautes parisiens water torture, the weight in brass of the fish-market at mans, sixteenth century whale fishing william, duke of normandy, eleventh century winegrower, the wire-worker wolves, how they may be caught with a snare woman under the safeguard of knighthood, fifteenth century women of the court, sixth to tenth century woodcock, mode of catching a, fourteenth century manners, customs, and dress during the middle ages, and during the renaissance period. condition of persons and lands. disorganization of the west at the beginning of the middle ages.--mixture of roman, germanic, and gallic institutions.--fusion organized under charlemagne.--royal authority.--position of the great feudalists.--division of the territory and prerogatives attached to landed possessions.--freemen and tenants.--the læti, the colon, the serf, and the labourer, who may be called the origin of the modern lower classes.--formation of communities.--right of mortmain. the period known as the middle ages, says the learned benjamin guérard, is the produce of pagan civilisation, of germanic barbarism, and of christianity. it began in , on the fall of agustulus, and ended in , at the taking of constantinople by mahomet ii., and consequently the fall of two empires, that of the west and that of the east, marks its duration. its first act, which was due to the germans, was the destruction of political unity, and this was destined to be afterwards replaced by religions unity. then we find a multitude of scattered and disorderly influences growing on the ruins of central power. the yoke of imperial dominion was broken by the barbarians; but the populace, far from acquiring liberty, fell to the lowest degrees of servitude. instead of one despot, it found thousands of tyrants, and it was but slowly and with much trouble that it succeeded in freeing itself from feudalism. nothing could be more strangely troubled than the west at the time of the dissolution of the empire of the caesars; nothing more diverse or more discordant than the interests, the institutions, and the state of society, which were delivered to the germans (figs. and ). in fact, it would be impossible in the whole pages of history to find a society formed of more heterogeneous or incompatible elements. on the one side might be placed the goths, burgundians, vandals, germans, franks, saxons, and lombards, nations, or more strictly hordes, accustomed to rough and successful warfare, and, on the other, the romans, including those people who by long servitude to roman dominion had become closely allied with their conquerors (fig. ). there were, on both sides, freemen, freedmen, colons, and slaves; different ranks and degrees being, however, observable both in freedom and servitude. this hierarchical principle applied itself even to the land, which was divided into freeholds, tributary lands, lands of the nobility, and servile lands, thus constituting the freeholds, the benefices, the fiefs, and the tenures. it may be added that the customs, and to a certain degree the laws, varied according to the masters of the country, so that it can hardly be wondered at that everywhere diversity and inequality were to be found, and, as a consequence, that anarchy and confusion ruled supreme. [illustration: figs. and .--costumes of the franks from the fourth to the eighth centuries, collected by h. de vielcastel, from original documents in the great libraries of europe.] [illustration: fig. .--costumes of roman soldiers. fig. .--costume of german soldiers. from miniatures on different manuscripts, from the sixth to the twelfth centuries.] the germans (fig. ) had brought with them over the rhine none of the heroic virtues attributed to them by tacitus when he wrote their history, with the evident intention of making a satire on his countrymen. amongst the degenerate romans whom those ferocious germans had subjugated, civilisation was reconstituted on the ruins of vices common in the early history of a new society by the adoption of a series of loose and dissolute habits, both by the conquerors and the conquered. [illustration: fig. .--costumes of slaves or serfs, from the sixth to the twelfth centuries, collected by h. de vielcastel, from original documents in the great libraries of europe.] in fact, the conquerors contributed the worse share (fig. ); for, whilst exercising the low and debasing instincts of their former barbarism, they undertook the work of social reconstruction with a sort of natural and innate servitude. to them, liberty, the desire for which caused them to brave the greatest dangers, was simply the right of doing evil--of obeying their ardent thirst for plunder. long ago, in the depths of their forests, they had adopted the curious institution of vassalage. when they came to the west to create states, instead of reducing personal power, every step in their social edifice, from the top to the bottom, was made to depend on individual superiority. to bow to a superior was their first political principle; and on that principle feudalism was one day to find its base. servitude was in fact to be found in all conditions and ranks, equally in the palace of the sovereign as in the dwellings of his subjects. the vassal who was waited on at his own table by a varlet, himself served at the table of his lord; the nobles treated each other likewise, according to their rank; and all the exactions which each submitted to from his superiors, and required to be paid to him by those below him, were looked upon not as onerous duties, but as rights and honours. the sentiment of dignity and of personal independence, which has become, so to say, the soul of modern society, did not exist at all, or at least but very slightly, amongst the germans. if we could doubt the fact, we have but to remember that these men, so proud, so indifferent to suffering or death, would often think little of staking their liberty in gambling, in the hope that if successful their gain might afford them the means of gratifying some brutal passion. [illustration: fig. .--king or chief of franks armed with the seramasax, from a miniature of the ninth century, drawn by h. de vielcastel.] when the franks took root in gaul, their dress and institutions were adopted by the roman society (fig. ). this had the most disastrous influence in every point of view, and it is easy to prove that civilisation did not emerge from this chaos until by degrees the teutonic spirit disappeared from the world. as long as this spirit reigned, neither private nor public liberty existed. individual patriotism only extended as far as the border of a man's family, and the nation became broken up into clans. gaul soon found itself parcelled off into domains which were almost independent of one another. it was thus that germanic genius became developed. [illustration: fig. .--the king of the franks, in the midst of the military chiefs who formed his _treuste_, or armed court, dictates the salic law (code of the barbaric laws).--fac-simile of a miniature in the "chronicles of st. denis," a manuscript of the fourteenth century (library of the arsenal).] the advantages of acting together for mutual protection first established itself in families. if any one suffered from an act of violence, he laid the matter before his relatives for them jointly to seek reparation. the question was then settled between the families of the offended person and the offender, all of whom were equally associated in the object of vindicating a cause which interested them alone, without recognising any established authority, and without appealing to the law. if the parties had sought the protection or advice of men of power, the quarrel might at once take a wider scope, and tend to kindle a feud between two nobles. in any case the king only interfered when the safety of his person or the interests of his dominions were threatened. penalties and punishments were almost always to be averted by a money payment. a son, for instance, instead of avenging the death of his father, received from the murderer a certain indemnity in specie, according to legal tariff; and the law was thus satisfied. the tariff of indemnities or compensations to be paid for each crime formed the basis of the code of laws amongst the principal tribes of franks, a code essentially barbarian, and called the salic law, or law of the salians (fig. ). such, however, was the spirit of inequality among the german races, that it became an established principle for justice to be subservient to the rank of individuals. the more powerful a man was, the more he was protected by the law; the lower his rank, the less the law protected him. the life of a frank, by right, was worth twice that of a roman; the life of a servant of the king was worth three times that of an ordinary individual who did not possess that protecting tie. on the other hand, punishment was the more prompt and rigorous according to the inferiority of position of the culprit. in case of theft, for instance, a person of importance was brought before the king's tribunal, and as it respected the rank held by the accused in the social hierarchy, little or no punishment was awarded. in the case of the same crime by a poor man, on the contrary, the ordinary judge gave immediate sentence, and he was seized and hung on the spot. inasmuch as no political institutions amongst the germans were nobler or more just than those of the franks and the other barbaric races, we cannot accept the creed of certain historians who have represented the germans as the true regenerators of society in europe. the two sources of modern civilisation are indisputably pagan antiquity and christianity. after the fall of the merovingian kings great progress was made in the political and social state of nations. these kings, who were but chiefs of undisciplined bands, were unable to assume a regal character, properly so called. their authority was more personal than territorial, for incessant changes were made in the boundaries of their conquered dominions. it was therefore with good reason that they styled themselves kings of the franks, and not kings of france. charlemagne was the first who recognised that social union, so admirable an example of which was furnished by roman organization, and who was able, with the very elements of confusion and disorder to which he succeeded, to unite, direct, and consolidate diverging and opposite forces, to establish and regulate public administrations, to found and build towns, and to form and reconstruct almost a new world (fig. ). we hear of him assigning to each his place, creating for all a common interest, making of a crowd of small and scattered peoples a great and powerful nation; in a word, rekindling the beacon of ancient civilisation. when he died, after a most active and glorious reign of forty-five years, he left an immense empire in the most perfect state of peace (fig. ). but this magnificent inheritance was unfortunately destined to pass into unworthy or impotent hands, so that society soon fell back into anarchy and confusion. the nobles, in their turn invested with power, were continually at war, and gradually weakened the royal authority--the power of the kingdom--by their endless disputes with the crown and with one another. [illustration: fig. .--charles, eldest son of king pepin, receives the news of the death of his father and the great feudalists offer him the crown.--costumes of the court of burgundy in the fifteenth century.--fac-simile of a miniature of the "history of the emperors" (library of the arsenal).] [illustration: fig. . portrait of charlemagne, whom the song of roland names the king with the grizzly beard.--fac-simile of an engraving of the end of the sixteenth century.] the revolution in society which took place under the carlovingian dynasty had for its especial object that of rendering territorial what was formerly personal, and, as it were, of destroying personality in matters of government. the usurpation of lands by the great having been thus limited by the influence of the lesser holders, everybody tried to become the holder of land. its possession then formed the basis of social position, and, as a consequence, individual servitude became lessened, and society assumed a more stable condition. the ancient laws of wandering tribes fell into disuse; and at the same time many distinctions of caste and race disappeared, as they were incompatible with the new order of things. as there were no more salians, ripuarians, nor visigoths among the free men, so there were no more colons, læti, nor slaves amongst those deprived of liberty. [illustrations: figs. and .--present state of the feudal castle of chateau-gaillard aux andelys, which was considered one of the strongest castles of france in the middle ages, and was rebuilt in the twelfth century by richard coeur de lion.] heads of families, on becoming attached to the soil, naturally had other wants and other customs than those which they had delighted in when they were only the chiefs of wandering adventurers. the strength of their followers was not now so important to them as the security of their castles. fortresses took the place of armed bodies; and at this time, every one who wished to keep what he had, entrenched himself to the best of his ability at his own residence. the banks of rivers, elevated positions, and all inaccessible heights, were occupied by towers and castles, surrounded by ditches, which served as strongholds to the lords of the soil. (figs. and ). these places of defence soon became points for attack. out of danger at home, many of the nobles kept watch like birds of prey on the surrounding country, and were always ready to fall, not only upon their enemies, but also on their neighbours, in the hope either of robbing them when off their guard, or of obtaining a ransom for any unwary traveller who might fall into their hands. everywhere society was in ambuscade, and waged civil war--individual against individual--without peace or mercy. such was the reign of feudalism. it is unnecessary to point out how this system of perpetual petty warfare tended to reduce the power of centralisation, and how royalty itself was weakened towards the end of the second dynasty. when the descendants of hugh capet wished to restore their power by giving it a larger basis, they were obliged to attack, one after the other, all these strongholds, and practically to re-annex each fief, city, and province held by these petty monarchs, in order to force their owners to recognise the sovereignty of the king. centuries of war and negotiations became necessary before the kingdom of france could be, as it were, reformed. [illustration: fig. .--knights and men-at-arms, cased in mail, in the reign of louis le gros, from a miniature in a psalter written towards the end of the twelfth century.] the corporations and the citizens had great weight in restoring the monarchical power, as well as in forming french nationality; but by far the best influence brought to bear in the middle ages was that of christianity. the doctrine of one origin and of one final destiny being common to all men of all classes constantly acted as a strong inducement for thinking that all should be equally free. religious equality paved the way for political equality, and as all christians were brothers before god, the tendency was for them to become, as citizens, equal also in law. this transformation, however, was but slow, and followed concurrently the progress made in the security of property. at the onset, the slave only possessed his life, and this was but imperfectly guaranteed to him by the laws of charity; laws which, however, year by year became of greater power. he afterwards became _colon_, or labourer (figs. and ), working for himself under certain conditions and tenures, paying fines, or services, which, it is true, were often very extortionate. at this time he was considered to belong to the domain on which he was born, and he was at least sure that that soil would not be taken from him, and that in giving part of his time to his master, he was at liberty to enjoy the rest according to his fancy. the farmer afterwards became proprietor of the soil he cultivated, and master, not only of himself, but of his lands; certain trivial obligations or fines being all that was required of him, and these daily grew less, and at last disappeared altogether. having thus obtained a footing in society, he soon began to take a place in provincial assemblies; and he made the last bound on the road of social progress, when the vote of his fellow-electors sent him to represent them in the parliament of the kingdom. thus the people who had begun by excessive servitude, gradually climbed to power. [illustration: fig. .--labouring colons (twelfth century), after a miniature in a manuscript of the ste. chapelle, of the national library of paris.] we will now describe more in detail the various conditions of persons of the middle ages. the king, who held his rights by birth, and not by election, enjoyed relatively an absolute authority, proportioned according to the power of his abilities, to the extent of his dominions, and to the devotion of his vassals. invested with a power which for a long time resembled the command of a general of an army, he had at first no other ministers than the officers to whom he gave full power to act in the provinces, and who decided arbitrarily in the name of, and representing, the king, on all questions of administration. one minister alone approached the king, and that was the chancellor, who verified, sealed, and dispatched all royal decrees and orders. as early, however, as the seventh century, a few officers of state appeared, who were specially attached to the king's person or household; a count of the palace, who examined and directed the suits brought before the throne; a mayor of the palace, who at one time raised himself from the administration of the royal property to the supreme power; an arch-chaplain, who presided over ecclesiastical affairs; a lord of the bedchamber, charged with the treasure of the chamber; and a count of the stables, charged with the superintendence of the stables. [illustration: fig. .--labouring colons (twelfth century), after a miniature in a manuscript of the ste. chapelle, of the national library of paris.] for all important affairs, the king generally consulted the grandees of his court; but as in the five or six first centuries of monarchy in france the royal residence was not permanent, it is probable the council of state was composed in part of the officers who followed the king, and in part of the noblemen who came to visit him, or resided near the place he happened to be inhabiting. it was only under the capetians that the royal council took a permanent footing, or even assembled at stated periods. in ordinary times, that is to say, when he was not engaged in war, the king had few around him besides his family, his personal attendants, and the ministers charged with the dispatch of affairs. as he changed from one of his abodes to another he only held his court on the great festivals of the year. [illustration: fig. .--the lords and barons prove their nobility by hanging their banners and exposing their coats-of-arms at the windows of the lodge of the heralds.--after a miniature of the "tournaments of king réné" (fifteenth century), mss. of the national library of paris.] up to the thirteenth century, there was, strictly speaking, no taxation and no public treasury. the king received, through special officers appointed for the purpose, tributes either in money or in kind, which were most variable, but often very heavy, and drawn almost exclusively from his personal and private properties. in cases of emergency only, he appealed to his vassals for pecuniary aid. a great number of the grandees, who lived far from the court, either in state offices or on their own fiefs, had establishments similar to that of the king. numerous and considerable privileges elevated them above other free men. the offices and fiefs having become hereditary, the order of nobility followed as a consequence; and it then became highly necessary for families to keep their genealogical histories, not only to gratify their pride, but also to give them the necessary titles for the feudal advantages they derived by birth. (fig. ). without this right of inheritance, society, which was still unsettled in the middle ages, would soon have been dissolved. this great principle, sacred in the eyes both of great and small, maintained feudalism, and in so doing it maintained itself amidst all the chaos and confusion of repeated revolutions and social disturbances. we have already stated, and we cannot sufficiently insist upon this important point, that from the day on which the adventurous habits of the chiefs of germanic origin gave place to the desire for territorial possessions, the part played by the land increased insensibly towards defining the position of the persons holding it. domains became small kingdoms, over which the lord assumed the most absolute and arbitrary rights. a rule was soon established, that the nobility was inherent to the soil, and consequently that the land ought to transmit to its possessors the rights of nobility. this privilege was so much accepted, that the long tenure of a fief ended by ennobling the commoner. subsequently, by a sort of compensation which naturally followed, lands on which rent had hitherto been paid became free and noble on passing to the possession of a noble. at last, however, the contrary rule prevailed, which caused the lands not to change quality in changing owners: the noble could still possess the labourers's lands without losing his nobility, but the labourer could be proprietor of a fief without thereby becoming a noble. to the _comites_, who, according to tacitus, attached themselves to the fortunes of the germanic chiefs, succeeded the merovingian _leudes_, whose assembly formed the king's council. these _leudes_ were persons of great importance owing to the number of their vassals, and although they composed his ordinary council, they did not hesitate at times to declare themselves openly opposed to his will. [illustration: fig. .--knight in war-harness, after a miniature in a psalter written and illuminated under louis le gros.] the name of _leudes_ was abandoned under the second of the then french dynasties, and replaced by that of _fidèles_, which, in truth soon became a common designation of both the vassals of the crown and those of the nobility. under the kings of the third dynasty, the kingdom was divided into about one hundred and fifty domains, which were called great fiefs of the crown, and which were possessed in hereditary right by the members of the highest nobility, placed immediately under the royal sovereignty and dependence. [illustration: fig. .--king charlemagne receiving the oath of fidelity and homage from one of his great feudatories or high barons.--fac-simile of a miniature in cameo, of the "chronicles of st. denis." manuscript of the fourteenth century (library of the arsenal).] vassals emanating directly from the king, were then generally designated by the title of _barons_, and mostly possessed strongholds. the other nobles indiscriminately ranked as _chevaliers_ or _cnights_, a generic title, to which was added that of _banneret_, the fiefs of _hauberk_ were bound to supply the sovereign with a certain number of knights covered with coats of mail, and completely armed. all knights were mounted in war (fig. ); but knights who were made so in consequence of their high birth must not be confounded with those who became knights by some great feat in arms in the house of a prince or high noble, nor with the members of the different orders of chivalry which were successively instituted, such as the knights of the star, the genet, the golden fleece, saint-esprit, st. john of jerusalem, &c. originally, the possession of a benefice or fief meant no more than the privilege of enjoying the profits derived from the land, a concession which made the holder dependent upon the proprietor. he was in fact his "man," to whom he owed homage (fig. ), service in case of war, and assistance in any suit the proprietor might have before the king's tribunal. the chiefs of german bands at first recompensed their companions in arms by giving them fiefs of parts of the territory which they had conquered; but later on, everything was equally given to be held in fief, namely, dignities, offices, rights, and incomes or titles. it is important to remark (and it is in this alone that feudalism shows its social bearing), that if the vassal owed obedience and devotion to his lord, the lord in exchange owed protection to the vassal. the rank of "free man" did not necessarily require the possession of land; but the position of free men who did not hold fiefs was extremely delicate and often painful, for they were by natural right dependent upon those on whose domain they resided. in fact, the greater part of these nobles without lands became by choice the king's men, and remained attached to his service. if this failed them, they took lands on lease, so as to support themselves and their families, and to avoid falling into absolute servitude. in the event of a change of proprietor, they changed with the land into new hands. nevertheless, it was not uncommon for them to be so reduced as to sell their freedom; but in such cases, they reserved the right, should better times come, of re-purchasing their liberty by paying one-fifth more than the sum for which they had sold it. we thus see that in olden times, as also later, freedom was more or less the natural consequence of the possession of wealth or power on the part of individuals or families who considered themselves free in the midst of general dependence. during the tenth century, indeed, if not impossible, it was at least difficult to find a single inhabitant of the kingdom of france who was not "the man" of some one, and who was either tied by rules of a liberal order, or else was under the most servile obligations. the property of the free men was originally the "_aleu_," which was under the jurisdiction of the royal magistrates. the _aleu_ gradually lost the greater part of its franchise, and became liable to the common charges due on lands which were not freehold. in ancient times, all landed property of a certain extent was composed of two distinct parts: one occupied by the owner, constituted the domain or manor; the other, divided between persons who were more or less dependent, formed what were called _tenures_. these _tenures_ were again divided according to the position of those who occupied them: if they were possessed by free men, who took the name of vassals, they were called benefices or fiefs; if they were let to læti, colons, or serfs, they were then called colonies or demesnes. [illustration: fig. .--ploughmen.--fac-simile of a miniature in a very ancient anglo-saxon manuscript published by shaw, with legend "god spede ye plough, and send us korne enow."] the _læti_ occupied a rank between the colon and the serf. they had less liberty than the colon, over whom the proprietor only had an indirect and very limited power. the colon only served the land, whilst the læti, whether agriculturists or servants, served both the land and the owner (fig. ). they nevertheless enjoyed the right of possession, and of defending themselves, or prosecuting by law. the serf, on the contrary, had neither city, tribunal, nor family. the læti had, besides, the power of purchasing their liberty when they had amassed sufficient for the purpose. _serfs_ occupied the lowest position in the social ladder (fig. ). they succeeded to slaves, thus making, thanks to christianity, a step towards liberty. although the civil laws barely protected them, those of the church continually stepped in and defended them from arbitrary despotism. the time came when they had no direct masters, and when the almost absolute dependence of serfs was changed by the nobles requiring them to farm the land and pay tithes and fees. and lastly, they became farmers, and regular taxes took the place of tithes and fees. the colons, læti, and serfs, all of whom were more or less tillers of the soil, were, so to speak, the ancestors of "the people" of modern times; those who remained devoted to agriculture were the ancestors of our peasants; and those who gave themselves up to trades and commerce in the towns, were the originators of the middle classes. [illustration: fig. .--serf or vassal of tenth century, from miniatures in the "dialogues of st. gregory," manuscript no. (royal library of brussels).] as early as the commencement of the third royal dynasty we find in the rural districts, as well as in the towns, a great number of free men: and as the charters concerning the condition of lands and persons became more and more extended, the tyranny of the great was reduced, and servitude decreased. during the following centuries, the establishment of civic bodies and the springing up of the middle classes (fig. ) made the acquisition of liberty more easy and more general. nevertheless, this liberty was rather theoretical than practical; for if the nobles granted it nominally, they gave it at the cost of excessive fines, and the community, which purchased at a high price the right of self-administration, did not get rid of any of the feudal charges imposed upon it. [illustration: fig. .--bourgeois at the end of thirteenth century.--fac-simile of miniature in manuscript no. , in the national library of paris.] fortunately for the progress of liberty, the civic bodies, as if they had been providentially warned of the future in store for them, never hesitated to accept from their lords, civil or ecclesiastical, conditions, onerous though they were, which enabled them to exist in the interior of the cities to which they belonged. they formed a sort of small state, almost independent for private affairs, subject to the absolute power of the king, and more or less tied by their customs or agreements with the local nobles. they held public assemblies and elected magistrates, whose powers embraced both the administration of civil and criminal justice, police, finance, and the militia. they generally had fixed and written laws. protected by ramparts, each possessed a town-hall (_hôtel de ville_), a seal, a treasury, and a watch-tower, and it could arm a certain number of men, either for its own defence or for the service of the noble or sovereign under whom it held its rights. in no case could a community such as this exist without the sanction of the king, who placed it under the safeguard of the crown. at first the kings, blinded by a covetous policy, only seemed to see in the issue of these charters an excellent pretext for extorting money. if they consented to recognise them, and even to help them against their lords, it was on account of the enormous sacrifices made by the towns. later on, however, they affected, on the contrary, the greatest generosity towards the vassals who wished to incorporate themselves, when they had understood that these institutions might become powerful auxiliaries against the great titulary feudalists; but from the reign of louis xi., when the power of the nobles was much diminished, and no longer inspired any terror to royalty, the kings turned against their former allies, the middle classes, and deprived them successively of all the prerogatives which could prejudice the rights of the crown. the middle classes, it is true, acquired considerable influence afterwards by participation in the general and provincial councils. after having victoriously struggled against the clergy and nobility, in the assemblies of the three states or orders, they ended by defeating royalty itself. louis le gros, in whose orders the style or title of _bourgeois_ first appears ( ), is generally looked upon as the founder of the franchise of communities in france; but it is proved that a certain number of communities or corporations were already formally constituted, before his accession to the throne. the title of bourgeois was not, however, given exclusively to inhabitants of cities. it often happened that the nobles, with the intention of improving and enriching their domains, opened a kind of asylum, under the attractive title of _free towns_, or _new towns_, where they offered, to all wishing to establish themselves, lands, houses, and a more or less extended share of privileges, rights, and liberties. these congregations, or families, soon became boroughs, and the inhabitants, though agriculturists, took the name of bourgeois. [illustration: fig. .--costume of a vilain or peasant, fifteenth century, from a miniature of "la danse macabre," manuscript of the national library of paris.] there was also a third kind of bourgeois, whose influence on the extension of royal power was not less than that of the others. there were free men who, under the title of bourgeois of the king _(bourgeois du roy_), kept their liberty by virtue of letters of protection given them by the king, although they were established on lands of nobles whose inhabitants were deprived of liberty. further, when a _vilain_--that is to say, the serf, of a noble--bought a lease of land in a royal borough, it was an established custom that after having lived there a year and a day without being reclaimed by his lord and master, he became a bourgeois of the king and a free man. in consequence of this the serfs and vilains (fig. ) emigrated from all parts, in order to profit by these advantages, to such a degree, that the lands of the nobles became deserted by all the serfs of different degrees, and were in danger of remaining uncultivated. the nobility, in the interests of their properties, and to arrest this increasing emigration, devoted themselves to improving the condition of persons placed under their dependence, and attempted to create on their domains _boroughs_ analogous to those of royalty. but however liberal these ameliorations might appear to be, it was difficult for the nobles not only to concede privileges equal to those emanating from the throne, but also to ensure equal protection to those they thus enfranchised. in spite of this, however, the result was that a double current of enfranchisement was established, which resulted in the daily diminution of the miserable order of serfs, and which, whilst it emancipated the lower orders, had the immediate result of giving increased weight and power to royalty, both in its own domains and in those of the nobility and their vassals. these social revolutions did not, of course, operate suddenly, nor did they at once abolish former institutions, for we still find, that after the establishment of communities and corporations, several orders of servitude remained. at the close of the thirteenth century, on the authority of philippe de beaumanoir, the celebrated editor of "coutumes de beauvoisis," there were three states or orders amongst the laity, namely, the nobleman (fig. ), the free man, and the serf. all noblemen were free, but all free men were not necessarily noblemen. generally, nobility descended from the father and franchise from the mother. but according to many other customs of france, the child, as a general rule, succeeded to the lower rank of his parents. there were two orders of serfs: one rigorously held in the absolute dependence of his lord, to such a degree that the latter could appropriate during his life, or after death if he chose, all he possessed; he could imprison him, ill-treat him as he thought proper, without having to answer to any one but god; the other, though held equally in bondage, was more liberally treated, for "unless he was guilty of some evil-doing, the lord could ask of him nothing during his life but the fees, rents, or fines which he owed on account of his servitude." if one of the latter class of serfs married a free woman, everything which he possessed became the property of his lord. the same was the case when he died, for he could not transmit any of his goods to his children, and was only allowed to dispose by will of a sum of about five sous, or about twenty-five francs of modern money. as early as the fourteenth century, serfdom or servitude no longer existed except in "mortmain," of which we still have to speak. [illustration: the court of mary of anjou, wife of charles vii. her chaplain the learned robert blondel presents her with the allegorical treatise of the "_twelve perils of hell_." which he composed for her ( ). fac-simile of a miniature from this work. bibl. de l'arsenal, paris.] _mortmain_ consisted of the privation of the right of freely disposing of one's person or goods. he who had not the power of going where he would, of giving or selling, of leaving by will or transferring his property, fixed or movable, as he thought best, was called a man of mortmain. [illustration: fig. .--italian nobleman of the fifteenth century. from a playing-card engraved on copper about (cabinet des estampes, national library of paris).] this name was apparently chosen because the hand, "considered the symbol of power and the instrument of donation," was deprived of movement, paralysed, in fact struck as by death. it was also nearly in this sense, that men of the church were also called men of mortmain, because they were equally forbidden to dispose, either in life, or by will after death, of anything belonging to them. there were two kinds of mortmain: real and personal; one concerning land, and the other concerning the person; that is to say, land held in mortmain did not change quality, whatever might be the position of the person who occupied it, and a "man of mortmain" did not cease to suffer the inconveniences of his position on whatever land he went to establish himself. the mortmains were generally subject to the greater share of feudal obligations formerly imposed on serfs; these were particularly to work for a certain time for their lord without receiving any wages, or else to pay him the _tax_ when it was due, on certain definite occasions, as for example, when he married, when he gave a dower to his daughter, when he was taken prisoner of war, when he went to the holy land, &c., &c. what particularly characterized the condition of mortmains was, that the lords had the right to take all their goods when they died without issue, or when the children held a separate household; and that they could not dispose of anything they possessed, either by will or gift, beyond a certain sum. the noble who franchised mortmains, imposed on them in almost all cases very heavy conditions, consisting of fees, labours, and fines of all sorts. in fact, a mortmain person, to be free, not only required to be franchised by his own lord, but also by all the nobles on whom he was dependent, as well as by the sovereign. if a noble franchised without the consent of his superiors, he incurred a fine, as it was considered a dismemberment or depreciation of the fief. as early as the end of the fourteenth century, the rigorous laws of mortmain began to fall into disuse in the provinces; though if the name began to disappear, the condition itself continued to exist. the free men, whether they belonged to the middle class or to the peasantry, were nevertheless still subject to pay fines or obligations to their lords of such a nature that they must be considered to have been practically in the same position as mortmains. in fact, this custom had been so deeply rooted into social habits by feudalism, that to make it disappear totally at the end of the eighteenth century, it required three decrees of the national convention (july and october , ; and ventôse, year ii.--that is, march , ). it is only just to state, that twelve or fourteen years earlier, louis xvi. had done all in his power towards the same purpose, by suppressing mortmain, both real or personal, on the lands of the crown, and personal mortmain (i.e. the right of following mortmains out of their original districts) all over the kingdom. [illustration: fig. .--alms bag taken from some tapestry in orleans, fifteenth century.] privileges and rights. feudal and municipal. elements of feudalism.--rights of treasure-trove, sporting, safe conducts, ransom, disinheritance, &c.--immunity of the feudalists.--dues from the nobles to their sovereign.--law and university dues.--curious exactions resulting from the universal system of dues.--struggles to enfranchise the classes subjected to dues.--feudal spirit and citizen spirit.--resuscitation of the system of ancient municipalities in italy, germany, and france.--municipal institutions and associations.--the community.--the middle-class cities (_cités bourgeoises_).--origin of national unity. so as to understand the numerous charges, dues, and servitudes, often as quaint as iniquitous and vexations, which weighed on the lower orders during the middle ages, we must remember how the upper class, who assumed to itself the privilege of oppression on lands and persons under the feudal system, was constituted. the roman nobles, heirs to their fathers' agricultural dominions, succeeded for the most part in preserving through the successive invasions of the barbarians, the influence attached to the prestige of birth and wealth; they still possessed the greater part of the land and owned as vassals the rural populations. the grerman nobles, on the contrary, had not such extended landed properties, but they appropriated all the strongest positions. the dukes, counts, and marquises were generally of german origin. the roman race, mixed with the blood of the various nations it had subdued, was the first to infuse itself into ancient society, and only furnished barons of a secondary order. these heterogeneous elements, brought together, with the object of common dominion, constituted a body who found life and motion only in the traditions of rome and ancient germany. from these two historical sources, as is very judiciously pointed out by m. mary-lafon, issued all the habits of the new society, and particularly the rights and privileges assumed by the nobility. these rights and privileges, which we are about to pass summarily in review, were numerous, and often curious: amongst them may be mentioned the rights of treasure-trove, the rights of wreck, the rights of establishing fairs or markets, rights of marque, of sporting, &c. the rights of treasure-trove were those which gave full power to dukes and counts over all minerals found on their properties. it was in asserting this right that the famous richard coeur de lion, king of england, met his death. adhémar, viscount of limoges, had discovered in a field a treasure, of which, no doubt, public report exaggerated the value, for it was said to be large enough to model in pure gold, and life-size, a roman emperor and the members of his family, at table. adhémar was a vassal of the duke of guienne, and, as a matter of course, set aside what was considered the sovereign's share in his discovery; but richard, refusing to concede any part of his privilege, claimed the whole treasure. on the refusal of the viscount to give it up he appeared under arms before the gates of the castle of chalus, where he supposed that the treasure was hidden. on seeing the royal standard, the garrison offered to open the gates. "no," answered richard, "since you have forced me to unfurl my banner, i shall only enter by the breach, and you shall all be hung on the battlements." the siege commenced, and did not at first seem to favour the english, for the besieged made a noble stand. one evening, as his troops were assaulting the place, in order to witness the scene, richard was sitting at a short distance on a piece of rock, protected with a target--that is, a large shield covered with leather and blades of iron--which two archers held over him. impatient to see the result of the assault, richard pushed down the shield, and that moment decided his fate ( ). an archer of chalus, who had recognised him and was watching from the top of the rampart, sent a bolt from a crossbow, which hit him full in the chest. the wound, however, would perhaps not have been mortal, but, shortly after, having carried the place by storm, and in his delight at finding the treasure almost intact, he gave himself up madly to degrading orgies, during which he had already dissipated the greater part of his treasure, and died of his wound twelve days later; first having, however, graciously pardoned the bowman who caused his death. the right of shipwrecks, which the nobles of seaboard countries rarely renounced, and of which they were the more jealous from the fact that they had continually to dispute them with their vassals and neighbours, was the pitiless and barbaric right of appropriating the contents of ships happening to be wrecked on their shores. [illustration: figs. and .--varlet or squire carrying a halberd with a thick blade; and archer, in fighting dress, drawing the string of his crossbow with a double-handled winch.--from the miniatures of the "jouvencel," and the "chroniques" of froissart, manuscripts of the fifteenth century (imperial library of paris).] when the feudal nobles granted to their vassals the right of assembling on certain days, in order to hold fairs and markets, they never neglected to reserve to themselves some tax on each head of cattle, as well as on the various articles brought in and put up for sale. as these fairs and markets never failed to attract a great number of buyers and sellers, this formed a very lucrative tax for the noble (fig. ). [illustration: fig. .--flemish peasants at the cattle market.--miniature of the "chroniques de hainaut." manuscripts of the fifteenth century, vol. ii. fol. (library of the dukes of burgundy, brussels).] the right of _marque_, or reprisal, was a most barbarous custom. a famous example is given of it. in , william the pious, count of angoulême, before starting for a pilgrimage to rome, made his three brothers, who were his vassals, swear to live in honourable peace and good friendship. but, notwithstanding their oath, two of the brothers, having invited the third to the easter festivities, seized him at night in his bed, put out his eyes so that he might not find the way to his castle, and cut out his tongue so that he might not name the authors of this horrible treatment. the voice of god, however, denounced them, and the count of angoulême, shuddering with horror, referred the case to his sovereign, the duke of aquitaine, william iv., who immediately came, and by fire and sword exercised his right of _marque_ on the lands of the two brothers, leaving them nothing but their lives and limbs, after having first put out their eyes and cut out their tongues, so as to inflict on them the penalty of retaliation. the right of sporting or hunting was of all prerogatives that dearest to, and most valued by the nobles. not only were the severest and even cruellest penalties imposed on "vilains" who dared to kill the smallest head of game, but quarrels frequently arose between nobles of different degrees on the subject, some pretending to have a feudal privilege of hunting on the lands of others (fig. ). from this tyrannical exercise of the right of hunting, which the least powerful of the nobles only submitted to with the most violent and bitter feelings, sprung those old and familiar ballads, which indicate the popular sentiment on the subject. in some of these songs the inveterate hunters are condemned, by the order of fairies or of the fates, either to follow a phantom stag for everlasting, or to hunt, like king artus, in the clouds and to catch a fly every hundred years. the right of jurisdiction, which gave judicial power to the dukes and counts in cases arising in their domains, had no appeal save to the king himself, and this was even often contested by the nobles, as for instance, in the unhappy case of enguerrand de coucy. enguerrand had ordered three young flemish noblemen, who were scholars at the abbey of "st. nicholas des bois," to be seized and hung, because, not knowing that they were on the domain of the lord of coucy, they had killed a few rabbits with arrows. st. louis called the case before him. enguerrand answered to the call, but only to dispute the king's right, and to claim the judgment of his peers. the king, without taking any notice of the remonstrance, ordered enguerrand to be locked up in the big tower of the louvre, and was nearly applying the law of _retaliation_ to his case. eventually he granted him letters of pardon, after condemning him to build three chapels, where masses were continually to be said for the three victims; to give the forest where the young scholars had been found hunting, to the abbey of "st. nicholas des bois;" to lose on all his estates the rights of jurisdiction and sporting; to serve three years in the holy land; and to pay to the king a fine of , pounds tournois. it must be remembered that louis ix., although most generous in cases relating simply to private interests, was one of the most stubborn defenders of royal prerogatives. a right which feudalists had the greatest interest in observing, and causing to be respected, because they themselves might with their wandering habits require it at any moment, was that of _safe convoy_, or _guidance_. this right was so powerful, that it even applied itself to the lower orders, and its violation was considered the most odious crime; thus, in the thirteenth century, the king of aragon was severely abused by all persons and all classes, because in spite of this right he caused a jew to be burned so as not to have to pay a debt which the man claimed of him. [illustration: fig. .--nobleman in hunting costume, preceded by his servant, trying to find the scent of a stag.--from a miniature in the book of gaston phoebus ("des deduitz de la chasse des bestes sauvaiges").--manuscript of the fourteenth century (national library of paris).] the right of "the crown" should also be mentioned, which consisted of a circle of gold ornamented in various fashions, according to the different degrees of feudal monarchy, which vassals had to present to their lord on the day of his investiture. the right of seal was a fee or fine they had to pay for the charters which their lord caused to be delivered to them. the duty of _aubaine_ was the fine or due paid by merchants, either in kind or money, to the feudal chief, when they passed near his castle, landed in his ports, or exposed goods for sale in his markets. the nobles of second order possessed among their privileges that of wearing spurs of silver or gold according to their rank of knighthood; the right of receiving double rations when prisoners of war; the right of claiming a year's delay when a creditor wished to seize their land; and the right of never having to submit to torture after trial, unless they were condemned to death for the crime they had committed. if a great baron for serious offences confiscated the goods of a noble who was his vassal, the latter had a right to keep his palfrey, the horse of his squire, various pieces of his harness and armour, his bed, his silk robe, his wife's bed, one of her dresses, her ring, her cloth stomacher, &c. the nobles alone possessed the right of having seats of honour in churches and in chapels (fig. ), and to erect therein funereal monuments, and we know that they maintained this right so rigorously and with so much effrontery, that fatal quarrels at times arose on questions of precedence. the epitaphs, the placing of tombs, the position of a monument, were all subjects for conflicts or lawsuits. the nobles enjoyed also the right of _disinheritance_, that is to say, of claiming the goods of a person dying on their lands who had no direct heir; the right of claiming a tax when a fief or domain changed hands; the right of _common oven_, or requiring vassals to make use of the mill, the oven, or the press of the lord. at the time of the vintage, no peasant might sell his wine until the nobles had sold theirs. everything was a source of privilege for the nobles. kings and councils waived the necessity of their studying, in order to be received as bachelors of universities. if a noble was made a prisoner of war, his life was saved by his nobility, and his ransom had practically to be raised by the "vilains" of his domains. the nobles were also exempted from serving in the militia, nor were they obliged to lodge soldiers, &c. they had a thousand pretexts for establishing taxes on their vassals, who were generally considered "taxable and to be worked at will." thus in the domain of montignac, the count of perigord claimed among other things as follows: "for every case of censure or complaint brought before him, deniers; for a quarrel in which blood was shed, sols; if blood was not shed, sols; for use of ovens, the sixteenth loaf of each baking; for the sale of corn in the domain, setiers: besides these, setiers of rye, setiers of oats, setiers of beans, pound of wax, capons, hens, and loads of wine." there were a multitude of other rights due to him, including the provostship fees, the fees on deeds, the tolls and furnaces of towns, the taxes on salt, on leather, corn, nuts; fees for the right of fishing; for the right of sporting, which last gave the lord a certain part or quarter of the game killed, and, in addition, the _dîme_ or tenth part of all the corn, wine, &c., &c. [illustration: fig. .--jean jouvenel des ursins, provost of the merchants of paris, and michelle de vitry, his wife, in the reign of charles vi.--fragment of a picture of the period, which was in the chapel of the ursinus, and is now in the versailles museum.] this worthy noble gathered in besides all this, during the religious festivals of the year, certain tributes in money on the estate of montignac alone, amounting to as much as , pounds tournois. one can judge by this rough sketch, of the income he must have had, both in good and bad years, from his other domains in the rich county of perigord. it must not be imagined that this was an exceptional case; all over the feudal territory the same state of things existed, and each lord farmed both his lands and the persons whom feudal right had placed under his dependence. [illustration: fig. .--dues on wines, granted to the chapter of tournai by king chilperic.--from the windows of the cathedral of tournai, fifteenth century.] to add to these already excessive rates and taxes, there were endless dues, under all shapes and names, claimed by the ecclesiastical lords (figs. and ). and not only did the nobility make without scruple these enormous exactions, but the crown supported them in avenging any act, however opposed to all sense of justice; so that the nobles were really placed above the great law of equality, without which the continuance of social order seemed normally impossible. the history of the city of toulouse gives us a significant example on this subject. [illustration: fig. .--the bishop of tournai receiving the tithe of beer granted by king chilpéric.--from the windows of the cathedral of tournai, fifteenth century.] on easter day, , some students of the university, who had passed the night of the anniversary of the resurrection of our saviour in drinking, left the table half intoxicated, and ran about the town during the hours of service, beating pans and cauldrons, and making such a noise and disturbance, that the indignant preachers were obliged to stop in the middle of their discourses, and claimed the intervention of the municipal authorities of toulouse. one of these, the lord of gaure, went out of church with five sergeants, and tried himself to arrest the most turbulent of the band. but as he was seizing him by the body, one of his comrades gave the lord a blow with a dagger, which cut off his nose, lips, and part of his chin. this occurrence aroused the whole town. toulouse had been insulted in the person of its first magistrate, and claimed vengeance. the author of the deed, named aimeri de bérenger, was seized, judged, condemned, and beheaded, and his body was suspended on the _spikes_ of the château narbonnais. [illustration: fig. .--fellows of the university of paris haranguing the emperor charles iv. in .--from a miniature of the manuscript of the "chroniques de st. denis," no. (national library of paris).] toulouse had to pay dearly for the respect shown to its municipal dignity. the parents of the student presented a petition to the king against the city, for having dared to execute a noble and to hang his body on a gibbet, in opposition to the sacred right which this noble had of appealing to the judgment of his peers. the parliament of paris finally decided the matter with the inflexible partiality to the rights of rank, and confiscated all the goods of the inhabitants, forced the principal magistrates to go on their knees before the house of aimeri de bérenger, and ask pardon; themselves to take down the body of the victim, and to have it publicly and honourably buried in the burial-ground of the daurade. such was the sentence and humiliation to which one of the first towns of the south was subjected, for having practised immediate justice on a noble, whilst it would certainly have suffered no vindication, if the culprit condemned to death had belonged to the middle or lower orders. we must nevertheless remember that heavy dues fell upon the privileged class themselves to a certain degree, and that if they taxed their poor vassals without mercy, they had in their turn often to reckon with their superiors in the feudal hierarchy. _albere_, or right of shelter, was the principal charge imposed upon the noble. when a great baron visited his lands, his tenants were not only obliged to give him and his followers shelter, but also provisions and food, the nature and quality of which were all arranged beforehand with the most extraordinary minuteness. the lesser nobles took advantage sometimes of the power they possessed to repurchase this obligation; but the rich, on the contrary, were most anxious to seize the occasion of proudly displaying before their sovereign all the pomp in their power, at the risk even of mortgaging their revenues for several years, and of ruining their vassals. history is full of stories bearing witness to the extravagant prodigalities of certain nobles on such occasions. payments in kind fell generally on the abbeys, up to . that of st. denis, which was very rich in lands, was charged with supplying the house and table of the king. this tax, which became heavier and heavier, eventually fell on the parisians, who only succeeded in ridding themselves of it in , when charles v. made all the bourgeois of paris noble. in the twelfth century, all furniture made of wood or iron which was found in the house of the bishop at his death, became the property of the king. but in the fourteenth century, the abbots of st. denis, st. germain des prés, st. geneviève (fig. ), and a few priories in the neighbourhood of paris, were only required to present the sovereign with two horse-loads of produce annually, so as to keep up the old system of fines. this system of rents and dues of all kinds was so much the basis of social organization in the middle ages, that it sometimes happened that the lower orders benefited by it. thus the bed of the bishop of paris belonged, after his death, to the poor invalids of the hôtel dieu. the canons were also bound to leave theirs to that hospital, as an atonement for the sins which they had committed. the bishops of paris were required to give two very sumptuous repasts to their chapters at the feasts of st. eloi and st. paul. the holy men of st. martin were obliged, annually, on the th of november, to offer to the first president of the court of parliament, two square caps, and to the first usher, a writing-desk and a pair of gloves. the executioner too received, from various monastic communities of the capital, bread, bottles of wine, and pigs' heads; and even criminals who were taken to montfaucon to be hung had the right to claim bread and wine from the nuns of st. catherine and the filles dieux, as they passed those establishments on their way to the gibbet. [illustration: fig. .--front of the ancient church of the abbey of sainte-geneviève, in paris, founded by clovis, and rebuilt from the eleventh to thirteenth centuries.--state of the building before its destruction at the end of the last century.] fines were levied everywhere, at all times, and for all sorts of reasons. under the name of _épices_, the magistrates, judges, reporters, and counsel, who had at first only received sweetmeats and preserves as voluntary offerings, eventually exacted substantial tribute in current coin. scholars who wished to take rank in the university sent some small pies, costing ten sols, to each examiner. students in philosophy or theology gave two suppers to the president, eight to the other masters, besides presenting them with sweetmeats, &c. it would be an endless task to relate all the fines due by apprentices and companions before they could reach mastership in their various crafts, nor have we yet mentioned certain fines, which, from their strange or ridiculous nature, prove to what a pitch of folly men may be led under the influence of tyranny, vanity, or caprice. thus, we read of vassals descending to the humiliating occupation of beating the water of the moat of the castle, in order to stop the noise of the frogs, during the illness of the mistress; we elsewhere find that at times the lord required of them to hop on one leg, to kiss the latch of the castle-gate, or to go through some drunken play in his presence, or sing a somewhat broad song before the lady. at tulle, all the rustics who had married during the year were bound to appear on the puy or mont st. clair. at twelve o'clock precisely, three children came out of the hospital, one beating a drum violently, the other two carrying a pot full of dirt; a herald called the names of the bride-grooms, and those who were absent or were unable to assist in breaking the pot by throwing stones at it, paid a fine. at périgueux, the young couples had to give the consuls a pincushion of embossed leather or cloth of different colours; a woman marrying a second time was required to present them with an earthen pot containing twelve sticks of different woods; a woman marrying for the third time, a barrel of cinders passed thirteen times through the sieve, and thirteen spoons made of wood of fruit-trees; and, lastly, one coming to the altar for the fifth time was obliged to bring with her a small tub containing the excrement of a white hen! "the people of the middle ages and the renaissance period were literally tied down with taxes and dues of all sorts," says m. mary-lafon. "if a few gleams of liberty reached them, it was only from a distance, and more in the hope of the future than as regarded the present. as an example of the way people were treated, a certain lord of laguène, spoken of in the old chronicles of the south, may be mentioned. every year, this cunning baron assembled his tenants in the village square. a large maypole was planted, and on the top was attached a wren. the lord, pointing to the little bird, declared solemnly, that if any 'vilain' succeeded in piercing him with an arrow he should be exempt from that year's dues. the vilains shot away, but, to the great merriment of their lord, never hit, and so had to continue paying the dues." [illustration: fig. .--ramparts of the town of aigues-mortes, one of the municipalities of languedoc.] one can easily understand how such a system, legalised by law, hampered the efforts for freedom, which a sense of human dignity was constantly raising in the bosoms of the oppressed. the struggle was long, often bloody, and at times it seemed almost hopeless, for on both sides it was felt that the contest was between two principles which were incompatible, and one of which must necessarily end by annihilating the other. any compromise between the complete slavery and the personal freedom of the lower orders, could only be a respite to enable these implacable adversaries to reinforce themselves, so as to resume with more vigour than ever this desperate combat, the issue of which was so long to remain doubtful. [illustration: louis iv leaving alexandria on the th of april to chastise the city of genoa. from a miniature by jean marot. no , bibl. nat'le de paris.] these efforts to obtain individual liberty displayed themselves more particularly in towns; but although they became almost universal in the west, they had not the same importance or character everywhere. the feudal system had not everywhere produced the same consequences. thus, whilst in ancient gaul it had absorbed all social vitality, we find that in germany, the place of its origin, the teutonic institutions of older date gave a comparative freedom to the labourers. in southern countries again we find the same beneficial effect from the roman rule. on that long area of land reaching from the southern slope of the cevennes to the apennines, the hand of the barbarian had weighed much less heavily than on the rest of europe. in those favoured provinces where roman organization had outlived roman patronage, it seems as if ancient splendour had never ceased to exist, and the elegance of customs re-flourished amidst the ruins. there, a sort of urban aristocracy always continued, as a balance against the nobles, and the counsel of elected _prud'hommes_, the syndics, jurors or _capitouls_, who in the towns replaced the roman _honorati_ and _curiales_, still were considered by kings and princes as holding some position in the state. the municipal body, larger, more open than the old "ward," no longer formed a corporation of unwilling aristocrats enchained to privileges which ruined them. the principal cities on the italian coast had already amassed enormous wealth by commerce, and displayed the most remarkable ardour, activity, and power. the eternal city, which was disputed by emperors, popes, and barons of the roman states, bestirred itself at times to snatch at the ancient phantom of republicanism; and this phantom was destined soon to change into reality, and another rome, or rather a new carthage, the lovely venice, arose free and independent from the waves of the adriatic (fig. ). in lombardy, so thickly colonised by the german conquerors, feudalism, on the contrary, weighed heavily; but there, too, the cities were populous and energetic, and the struggle for supremacy continued for centuries in an uncompromising manner between the people and the nobles, between the guelphs and the ghibellines. in the north and east of the gallic territory, the instinct of resistance did not exist any the less, though perhaps it was more intermittent. in fact, in these regions we find ambitious nobles forestalling the action of the king, and in order to attach towns to themselves and their houses, suppressing the most obnoxious of the taxes, and at the same time granting legal guarantees. for this the counts of flanders became celebrated, and the famous héribert de vermandois was noted for being so exacting in his demands with the great, and yet so popular with the small. [illustration: fig. .--view of st. mark's place, venice, sixteenth century, after cesare vecellio.] the eleventh century, during which feudal power rose to its height, was also the period when a reaction set in of the townspeople against the nobility. the spirit of the city revived with that of the bourgeois (a name derived from the teutonic word _burg_, habitation) and infused a feeling of opposition to the system which followed the conquest of the teutons. "but," says m. henri martin, "what reappeared was not the roman municipality of the empire, stained by servitude, although surrounded with glittering pomp and gorgeous arts, but it was something coarse and almost semi-barbarous in form, though strong and generous at core, and which, as far as the difference of the times would allow, rather reminds us of the small republics which existed previous to the roman empire." two strong impulses, originating from two totally dissimilar centres of action, irresistibly propelled this great social revolution, with its various and endless aspects, affecting all central europe, and being more or less felt in the west, the north, and the south. on one side, the greek and latin partiality for ancient corporations, modified by a democratic element, and an innate feeling of opposition characteristic of barbaric tribes; and on the other, the free spirit and equality of the old celtic tribes rising suddenly against the military hierarchy, which was the offspring of conquest. europe was roused by the double current of ideas which simultaneously urged her on to a new state of civilisation, and more particularly to a new organization of city life. italy was naturally destined to be the country where the new trials of social regeneration were to be made; but she presented the greatest possible variety of customs, laws, and governments, including emperor, pope, bishops, and feudal princes. in tuscany and liguria, the march towards liberty was continued almost without effort; whilst in lombardy, on the contrary, the feudal resistance was very powerful. everywhere, however, cities became more or less completely enfranchised, though some more rapidly than others. in sicily, feudalism swayed over the countries; but in the greater part of the peninsula, the democratic spirit of the cities influenced the enfranchisement of the rural population. the feudal caste was in fact dissolved; the barons were transformed into patricians of the noble towns which gave their republican magistrates the old title of consuls. the teutonic emperor in vain sought to seize and turn to his own interest the sovereignty of the people, who had shaken off the yokes of his vassals: the signal of war was immediately given by the newly enfranchised masses; and the imperial eagle was obliged to fly before the banners of the besieged cities. happy indeed might the cities of italy have been had they not forgotten, in their prosperity, that union alone could give them the possibility of maintaining that liberty which they so freely risked in continual quarrels amongst one another! [illustration: fig. .--william, duke of normandy, accompanied by eustatius, count of boulogne, and followed by his knights in arms.--military dress of the eleventh century, from bayeux tapestry said to have been worked by queen matilda.] the italian movement was immediately felt on the other side of the alps. in provence, septimanie, and aquitaine, we find, in the eleventh century, cities which enjoyed considerable freedom. under the name of communities and universities, which meant that all citizens were part of the one body, they jointly interfered in the general affairs of the kingdom to which they belonged. their magistrates were treated on a footing of equality with the feudal nobility, and although the latter at first would only recognise them as "good men" or notables, the consuls knew how to make a position for themselves in the hierarchy. if the consulate, which was a powerful expression of the most prominent system of independence, did no succeed in suppressing feudalism in provence as in italy, it at least so transformed it, that it deprived it of its most unjust and insupportable elements. at toulouse, for instance (where the consuls were by exception called _capitouls_, that is to say, heads of the chapters or councils of the city), the lord of the country seemed less a feudal prince in his capital, than an honorary magistrate of the bourgeoisie. avignon added to her consuls two _podestats_ (from the latin _potestas_, power). at marseilles, the university of the high city was ruled by a republic under the presidency of the count of provence, although the lower city was still under the sovereignty of a viscount. périgueux, which was divided into two communities, "the great and the small fraternity," took up arms to resist the authority of the counts of périgord; and arles under its _podestats_ was governed for some time as a free and imperial town. amongst the constitutions which were established by the cities, from the eleventh to the sixteenth centuries, we find admirable examples of administration and government, so that one is struck with admiration at the efforts of intelligence and patriotism, often uselessly lavished on such small political arenas. the consulate, which nominally at least found its origin in the ancient grandeur of southern regions, did not spread itself beyond lyons. in the centre of france, at poictiers, tours, moulin, &c., the urban progress only manifested itself in efforts which were feeble and easily suppressed; but in the north, on the contrary, in the provinces between the seine and the rhine, and even between the seine and the loire, the system of franchise took footing and became recognised. in some places, the revolution was effected without difficulty, but in others it gave rise to the most determined struggles. in normandy, for instance, under the active and intelligent government of the dukes of the race of roll or rollon, the middle class was rich and even warlike. it had access to the councils of the duchy; and when it was contemplated to invade england, the duke william (fig. ) found support from the middle class, both in money and men. the case was the same in flanders, where the towns of ghent (fig. ), of bruges, of ypres, after being enfranchised but a short time developed with great rapidity. but in the other counties of western france, the greater part of the towns were still much oppressed by the counts and bishops. if some obtained certain franchises, these privileges were their ultimate ruin, owing to the ill faith of their nobles. a town between the loire and the seine gave the signal which caused the regeneration of the north. the inhabitants of mans formed a community or association, and took an oath that they would obtain and maintain certain rights. they rebelled about , and forced the count and his noble vassals to grant them the freedom which they had sworn to obtain, though william of normandy very soon restored the rebel city to order, and dissolved the presumptuous community. however, the example soon bore fruit. cambrai rose in its turn and proclaimed the "commune," and although its bishop, aided by treason and by the count of hainault, reduced it to obedience, it only seemed to succumb for a time, to renew the struggle with greater success at a subsequent period. [illustration: fig. .--civic guard of ghent (brotherhood of st. sebastian), from a painting on the wall of the chapel of st. john and st. paul, ghent, near the gate of bruges.] we have just mentioned the commune; but we must not mistake the true meaning of this word, which, under a latin form (_communitas_), expresses originally a germanic idea, and in its new form a christian mode of living. societies of mutual defence, guilds, &c., had never disappeared from germanic and celtic countries; and, indeed, knighthood itself was but a brotherhood of christian warriors. the societies of the _paix de dieu_, and of the _trève de dieu_, were encouraged by the clergy in order to stop the bloody quarrels of the nobility, and formed in reality great religious guilds. this idea of a body of persons taking some common oath to one another, of which feudalism gave so striking an example, could not fail to influence the minds of the rustics and the lower classes, and they only wanted the opportunity which the idea of the commune at once gave them of imitating their superiors. they too took oaths, and possessed their bodies and souls in "common;" they seized, by force of strategy, the ramparts of their towns; they elected mayors, aldermen, and jurors, who were charged to watch over the interests of their association. they swore to spare neither their goods, their labour, nor their blood, in order to free themselves; and not content with defending themselves behind barricades or chains which closed the streets, they boldly took the offensive against the proud feudal chiefs before whom their fathers had trembled, and they forced the nobles, who now saw themselves threatened by this armed multitude, to acknowledge their franchise by a solemn covenant. it does not follow that everywhere the commune was established by means of insurrection, for it was obtained after all sorts of struggles; and franchises were sold in some places for gold, and in others granted by a more or less voluntary liberality. everywhere the object was the same; everywhere they struggled or negotiated to upset, by a written constitution or charter, the violence and arbitrary rule under which they had so long suffered, and to replace by an annual and fixed rent, under the protection of an independent and impartial law, the unlimited exactions and disguised plundering so long made by the nobility and royalty. circumstanced as they were, what other means had they to attain this end but ramparts and gates, a common treasury, a permanent military force, and magistrates who were both administrators, judges, and captains? the hôtel de ville, or mansion-house, immediately became a sort of civic temple, where the banner of the commune, the emblems of unity, and the seal which sanctioned the municipal acts were preserved. then arose the watch-towers, where the watchmen were unceasingly posted night and day, and whence the alarm signal was ever ready to issue its powerful sounds when danger threatened the city. these watch-towers, the monuments of liberty, became as necessary for the burghers as the clock-towers of their cathedrals, whose brilliant peals and joyous chimes gave zest to the popular feasts (fig. ). the mansion-houses built in flanders from the fourteenth to the sixteenth centuries, under municipal influence, are marvels of architecture. [illustration: fig. .--chimes of the clock of st. lambert of liége.] who is there who could thoroughly describe or even appreciate all the happy or unhappy vicissitudes relating to the establishment of the communes? we read of the commune of cambrai, four times created, four times destroyed, and which was continually at war with the bishops; the commune of beauvais, sustained on the contrary by the diocesan prelate against two nobles who possessed feudal rights over it; laon, a commune bought for money from the bishop, afterwards confirmed by the king, and then violated by fraud and treachery, and eventually buried in the blood of its defenders. we read also of st. quentin, where the count of vermandois and his vassals voluntarily swore to maintain the right of the bourgeois, and scrupulously respected their oath. in many other localities the feudal dignitaries took alarm simply at the name of commune, and whereas they would not agree to the very best arrangements under this terrible designation, they did not hesitate to adopt them when called either the "laws of friendship," the "peace of god," or the "institutions of peace." at lisle, for instance, the bourgeois magistrates took the name of _appeasers_, or watchers over friendship. at aire, in artois, the members of friendship mutually, not only helped one another against the enemy, but also assisted one another in distress. [illustration: fig. .--the deputies of the burghers of ghent, in revolt against their sovereign louis ii., count of flanders, come to beg him to pardon them, and to return to their town. --miniature from froissart, no. (national library of paris)] amiens deserves the first place amongst the cities which dearly purchased their privileges. the most terrible and sanguinary war was sustained by the bourgeois against their count and lord of the manor, assisted by king louis le gros, who had under similar circumstances just taken the part of the nobles of laon. from amiens, which, having been triumphant, became a perfect municipal republic, the example propagated itself throughout the rest of picardy, the isle of france, normandy, brittany, and burgundy, and by degrees, without any revolutionary shocks, reached the region of lyons, where the consulate, a characteristic institution of southern communes, ended. from flanders, also, the movement spread in the direction of the german empire; and there, too, the struggle was animated, and victorious against the aristocracy, until at last the great system of enfranchisement prevailed; and the cities of the west and south formed a confederation against the nobles, whilst those in the north formed the famous teutonic hanse, so celebrated for its maritime commerce. the centre of france slowly followed the movement; but its progress was considerably delayed by the close influence of royalty, which sometimes conceded large franchises, and sometimes suppressed the least claims to independence. the kings, who willingly favoured communes on the properties of their neighbours, did not so much care to see them forming on their own estates; unless the exceptional position and importance of any town required a wise exercise of tolerance. thus orleans, situated in the heart of the royal domains, was roughly repulsed in its first movement; whilst mantes, which was on the frontier of the duchy of normandy, and still under the king of england, had but to ask in order to receive its franchise from the king of france. it was particularly in the royal domains that cities were to be found, which, although they did not possess the complete independence of communes, had a certain amount of liberty and civil guarantees. they had neither the right of war, the watch-tower, nor the exclusive jurisdiction over their elected magistrates, for the bailiffs and the royal provosts represented the sovereign amongst them (fig. ). [illustration: fig. .--bailliage, or tribunal of the king's bailiff.--fac-simile of an engraving on wood in the work of josse damhoudere, "praxis rerum civilium." (antwerp, , in to.).] in paris, less than anywhere, could the kings consent to the organization of an independent political system, although that city succeeded in creating for itself a municipal existence. the middle-class influence originated in a gallo-roman corporation. the company of _nautes_ or "the corporation of the water trade," formed a centre round which were successively attached various bodies of different trades. gradually a strong concourse of civic powers was established, which succeeded in electing a municipal council, composed of a provost of merchants, four aldermen, and twenty-six councillors of the town. this council afterwards succeeded in overstepping the royal influence at difficult times, and was destined to play a prominent part in history. there also sprang up a lower order of towns or boroughs than these bourgeois cities, which were especially under the crown. not having sufficient strength to claim a great amount of liberty, they were obliged to be satisfied with a few privileges, conceded to them by the nobles, for the most part with a political end. these were the free towns or new towns which we have already named. however it came about, it is certain that although during the tenth century feudal power was almost supreme in europe, as early as the twelfth century the municipal system had gained great weight, and was constantly progressing until the policy of the kingdom became developed on a more and more extended basis, so that it was then necessary for it to give up its primitive nature, and to participate in the great movement of consolidisation and national unity. in this way the position of the large towns in the state relatively lost their individual position, and became somewhat analogous, as compared with the kingdom at large, to that formerly held by bourgeois in the cities. friendly ties arose between provinces; and distinct and rival interests were effaced by the general aspiration towards common objects. the towns were admitted to the states general, and the citizens of various regions mixed as representatives of the _tiers etat_. three orders thus met, who were destined to struggle for predominance in the future. we must call attention to the fact that, as m. henri martin says, by an apparent contradiction, the fall of the communes declared itself in inverse ratio to the progress of the _tiers etat_. by degrees, as the government became more settled from the great fiefs being absorbed by the crown, and as parliament and other courts of appeal which emanated from the middle class extended their high judiciary and military authority, so the central power, organized under monarchical form, must necessarily have been less disposed to tolerate the local independence of the communes. the state replaced the commune for everything concerning justice, war, and administration. no doubt some valuable privileges were lost; but that was only an accidental circumstance, for a great social revolution was produced, which cleared off at once all the relics of the old age; and when the work of reconstruction terminated, homage was rendered to the venerable name of "commune," which became uniformly applied to all towns, boroughs, or villages into which the new spirit of the same municipal system was infused. [illustration: fig. .--various arms of the fifteenth century.] private life in the castles, the towns, and the rural districts. the merovingian castles.--pastimes of the nobles; hunting, war.--domestic arrangements.--private life of charlemagne.--domestic habits under the carlovingians.--influence of chivalry.--simplicity of the court of philip angustus not imitated by his successors.--princely life of the fifteenth century.--the bringing up of latour landry, a noble of anjou.--varlets, pages, esquires, maids of honour.--opulence of the bourgeoisie.--"le menagier de paris."--ancient dwellings.--state of rustics at various periods.--"rustic sayings," by noël du fail. augustin thierry, taking gregory of tours, the merovingian herodotus, as an authority, thus describes a royal domain under the first royal dynasty of france:-- "this dwelling in no way possessed the military aspect of the château of the middle ages; it was a large building surrounded with porticos of roman architecture, sometimes built of carefully polished and sculptured wood, which in no way was wanting in elegance. around the main body of the building were arranged the dwellings of the officers of the palace, either foreigners or romans, and those of the chiefs of companies, who, according to germanic custom, had placed themselves and their warriors under the king, that is to say, under a special engagement of vassalage and fidelity. other houses, of less imposing appearance, were occupied by a great number of families, who worked at all sorts of trades, such as jewellery, the making of arms, weaving, currying, the embroidering of silk and gold, cotton, &c. "farm-buildings, paddocks, cow-houses, sheepfolds, barns, the houses of agriculturists, and the cabins of the serfs, completed the royal village, which perfectly resembled, although on a larger scale, the villages of ancient germany. there was something too in the position of these dwellings which resembled the scenery beyond the rhine; the greater number of them were on the borders, and some few in the centre of great forests, which have since been partly destroyed, and the remains of which we so much admire." [illustration: fig. .--st. remy, bishop of rheims, begging of clovis the restitution of the sacred vase taken by the franks in the pillage of soissons.--costumes of the court of burgundy in the fifteenth century.--fac-simile of a miniature on a manuscript of the "history of the emperors" (library of the arsenal).] although historical documents are not very explicit respecting those remote times, it is only sufficient to study carefully a very small portion of the territory in order to form some idea of the manners and customs of the franks; for in the royal domain we find the existence of all classes, from the sovereign himself down to the humblest slave. as regards the private life, however, of the different classes in this elementary form of society, we have but approximate and very imperfect notions. it is clear, however, that as early as the beginning of the merovingian race, there was much more luxury and comfort among the upper classes than is generally supposed. all the gold and silver furniture, all the jewels, and all the rich stuffs which the gallo-romans had amassed in their sumptuous dwellings, had not been destroyed by the barbarians. the frank kings had appropriated the greater part; and the rest had fallen into the hands of the chiefs of companies in the division of spoil. a well-known anecdote, namely, that concerning the vase of soissons (fig. ), which king clovis wished to preserve, and which a soldier broke with an axe, proves that many gems of ancient art must have disappeared, owing to the ignorance and brutality of the conquerors; although it is equally certain that the latter soon adopted the tastes and customs of the native population. at first, they appropriated everything that flattered their pride and sensuality. this is how the material remains of the civilisation of the gauls were preserved in the royal and noble residences, the churches, and the monasteries. gregory of tours informs us, that when frédégonde, wife of chilpéric, gave the hand of her daughter rigouthe to the son of the gothic king, fifty chariots were required to carry away all the valuable objects which composed the princess's dower. a strange family scene, related by the same historian, gives us an idea of the private habits of the court of that terrible queen of the franks. "the mother and daughter had frequent quarrels, which sometimes ended in the most violent encounters. frédégonde said one day to rigouthe, 'why do you continually trouble me? here are the goods of your father, take them and do as you like with them.' and conducting her to a room where she locked up her treasures, she opened a large box filled with valuables. after having pulled out a great number of jewels which she gave to her daughter, she said, 'i am tired; put your own hands in the box, and take what you find.' rigouthe bent down to reach the objects placed at the bottom of the box; upon which frédégonde immediately lowered the lid on her daughter, and pressed upon it with so much force that the eyes began to start out of the princess's head. a maid began screaming, 'help! my mistress is being murdered by her mother!' and rigouthe was saved from an untimely end." it is further related that this was only one of the minor crimes attributed by history to frédégonde _the terrible_, who always carried a dagger or poison about with her. amongst the franks, as amongst all barbaric populations, hunting was the pastime preferred when war was not being waged. the merovingian nobles were therefore determined hunters, and it frequently happened that hunting occupied whole weeks, and took them far from their homes and families. but when the season or other circumstances prevented them from waging war against men or beasts, they only cared for feasting and gambling. to these occupations they gave themselves up, with a determination and wildness well worthy of those semi-civilised times. it was the custom for invited guests to appear armed at the feasts, which were the more frequent, inasmuch as they were necessarily accompanied with religious ceremonies. it often happened that these long repasts, followed by games of chance, were stained with blood, either in private quarrels or in a general _mêlée_. one can easily imagine the tumult which must have arisen in a numerous assembly when the hot wine and other fermented drinks, such as beer, &c., had excited every one to the highest pitch of unchecked merriment. [illustration: fig. .--costumes of the women of the court from the sixth to the tenth centuries, from documents collected by h. de vielcastel, in the great libraries of europe.] some of the merovingian kings listened to the advice of the ministers of the catholic religion, and tried to reform these noisy excesses, and themselves abandoned the evil custom. for this purpose they received at their tables bishops, who blessed the assembly at the commencement of the meal, and were charged besides to recite chapters of holy writ, or to sing hymns out of the divine service, so as to edify and occupy the minds of the guests. gregory of tours bears witness to the happy influence of the presence of bishops at the tables of the frank kings and nobles; he relates, too, that chilpéric, who was very proud of his theological and secular knowledge, liked, when dining, to discuss, or rather to pronounce authoritatively his opinion on questions of grammar, before his companions in arms, who, for the most part, neither knew how to read nor write; he even went as far as to order three ancient greek letters to be added to the latin alphabet. [illustration: fig. .--queen frédégonde, seated on her throne, gives orders to two young men of térouanne to assassinate sigebert, king of austrasia.--window in the cathedral of tournai, fifteenth century.] the private properties of the frank kings were immense, and produced enormous revenues. these monarchs had palaces in almost all the large towns; at bourges, châlons-sur-saône, châlons-sur-marne, dijon, Étampes, metz, langres, mayence, rheims, soissons, tours, toulouse, trèves, valenciennes, worms, &c. in paris, they occupied the vast residence now known as the _thermes de julien_ (hôtel de cluny), which then extended from the hill of st. geneviève as far as the seine; but they frequently left it for their numerous villas in the neighbourhood, on which occasions they were always accompanied by their treasury. all these residences were built on the same plan. high walls surrounded the palace. the roman _atrium_, preserved under the name of _proaulium_ (_preau_, ante-court), was placed in front of the _salutorium_ (hall of reception), where visitors were received. the _consistorium_, or great circular hall surrounded with seats, served for legislation, councils, public assemblies, and other solemnities, at which the kings displayed their royal pomp. the _trichorium_, or dining-room, was generally the largest hall in the palace; two rows of columns divided it into three parts; one for the royal family, one for the officers of the household, and the third for the guests, who were always very numerous. no person of rank visiting the king could leave without sitting at his table, or at least draining a cup to his health. the king's hospitality was magnificent, especially on great religious festivals such as christmas and easter. the royal apartments were divided into winter and summer rooms. in order to regulate the temperature hot or cold water was used, according to the season; this circulated in the pipes of the _hypocauste_, or the subterranean furnace which warmed the baths. the rooms with chimneys were called _epicaustoria_ (stoves), and it was the custom hermetically to close these when any one wished to be anointed with ointments and aromatic essences. in the same manner as the gallo-roman houses, the palaces of the frank kings and principal nobles of ecclesiastical or military order had _thermes_, or bath-rooms: to the _thermes_ were attached a _colymbum_, or washhouse, a gymnasium for bodily exercise, and a _hypodrome_, or covered gallery for exercise, which must not be confounded with the _hippodrome_, a circus where horse-races took place. sometimes after the repast, in the interval between two games of dice, the nobles listened to a bard, who sang the brilliant deeds of their ancestors in their native tongue. under the government of charlemagne, the private life of his subjects seems to have been less rough and coarse, although they did not entirely give up their turbulent pleasures. science and letters, for a long time buried in monasteries, reappeared like beautiful exiles at the imperial court, and social life thereby gained a little charm and softness. charlemagne had created in his palace, under the direction of alcuin, a sort of academy called the "school of the palace," which followed him everywhere. the intellectual exercises of this school generally brought together all the members of the imperial family, as well as all the persons of the household. charlemagne, in fact, was himself one of the most attentive followers of the lessons given by alcuin. he was indeed the principal interlocutor and discourser at the discussions, which were on all subjects, religions, literary, and philosophical. [illustration: fig. .--costumes of the nobility from the seventh to the ninth centuries, from documents gathered by h. de vielcastel from the great libraries of europe.] charlemagne took as much pains with the administration of his palace as he did with that of his states. in his "capitulaires," a work he wrote on legislature, we find him descending to the minutest details in that respect. for instance, he not only interested himself in his warlike and hunting equipages, but also in his kitchen and pleasure gardens. he insisted upon knowing every year the number of his oxen, horses, and goats; he calculated the produce of the sale of fruits gathered in his orchards, which were not required for the use of his house; he had a return of the number of fish caught in his ponds; he pointed out the shrubs best calculated for ornamenting his garden, and the vegetables which were required for his table, &c. the emperor generally assumed the greatest simplicity in his dress. his daily attire consisted of a linen shirt and drawers, and a woollen tunic fastened with a silk belt. over this tunic he threw a cloak of blue stuff, very long behind and before, but very short on each side, thus giving freedom to his arms to use his sword, which he always wore. on his feet he wore bands of stuffs of various colours, crossed over one another, and covering his legs also. in winter, when he travelled or hunted on horseback, he threw over his shoulders a covering of otter or sheepskin. the changes in fashion which the custom of the times necessitated, but to which he would never submit personally, induced him to issue several strenuous orders, which, however, in reality had hardly any effect. he was most simple as regards his food and drink, and made a habit of having pious or historical works read to him during his repasts. he devoted the morning, which with him began in summer at sunrise, and in winter earlier, to the political administration of his empire. he dined at twelve with his family; the dukes and chiefs of various nations first waited on him, and then took their places at the table, and were waited on in their turn by the counts, prefects, and superior officers of the court, who dined after them. when these had finished the different chiefs of the household sat down, and they were succeeded lastly by servants of the lower order, who often did not dine till midnight, and had to content themselves with what was left. when occasion required, however, this powerful emperor knew how to maintain the pomp and dignity of his station; but as soon as he had done what was necessary, either for some great religious festival or otherwise, he returned, as if by instinct, to his dear and native simplicity. it must be understood that the simple tastes of charlemagne were not always shared by the princes and princesses of his family, nor by the magnates of his court (fig. ). poets and historians have handed down to us descriptions of hunts, feasts, and ceremonies, at which a truly asiatic splendour was displayed. eginhard, however, assures us that the sons and daughters of the king were brought up under their father's eye in liberal studios; that, to save them from the vice of idleness, charlemagne required his sons to devote themselves to all bodily exercises, such as horsemanship, handling of arms, &c., and his daughters to do needlework and to spin. from what is recorded, however, of the frivolous habits and irregular morals of these princesses, it is evident that they but imperfectly realised the end of their education. [illustration: fig. .--costumes of the ladies of the nobility in the ninth century, from a miniature in the bible of charles the bold (national library of paris).] science and letters, which for a time were brought into prominence by charlemagne and also by his son louis, who was very learned and was considered skilful in translating and expounding scripture, were, however, after the death of these two kings, for a long time banished to the seclusion of the cloisters, owing to the hostile rivalry of their successors, which favoured the attacks of the norman pirates. all the monuments and relics of the gallo-roman civilisation, which the great emperor had collected, disappeared in the civil wars, or were gradually destroyed by the devastations of the northerners. the vast empire which charlemagne had formed became gradually split up, so that from a dread of social destruction, in order to protect churches and monasteries, as well as castles and homesteads, from the attacks of internal as well as foreign enemies, towers and impregnable fortresses began to rise in all parts of europe, and particularly in france. [illustration: fig. .--towers of the castle of sémur, and of the castle of nogent-le-rotrou (present condition).--specimens of towers of the thirteenth century.] during the first period of feudalism, that is to say from the middle of the ninth to the middle of the twelfth centuries, the inhabitants of castles had little time to devote to the pleasures of private life. they had not only to be continually under arms for the endless quarrels of the king and the great chiefs; but they had also to oppose the normans on one side, and the saracens on the other, who, being masters of the spanish peninsula, spread like the rising tide in the southern counties of languedoc and provence. it is true that the carlovingian warriors obtained a handsome and rich reward for these long and sanguinary efforts, for at last they seized upon the provinces and districts which had been originally entrusted to their charge, and the origin of their feudal possession was soon so far forgotten, that their descendants pretended that they held the lands, which they had really usurped regardless of their oath, from heaven and their swords. it is needless to say, that at that time the domestic life in these castles must have been dull and monotonous; although, according to m. guizot, the loneliness which was the resuit of this rough and laborious life, became by degrees the pioneer of civilisation. "when the owner of the fief left his castle, his wife remained there, though in a totally different position from that which women generally held. she remained as mistress, representing her husband, and was charged with the defence and honour of the fief. this high and exalted position, in the centre of domestic life, often gave to women an opportunity of displaying dignity, courage, virtue, and intelligence, which would otherwise have remained hidden, and, no doubt, contributed greatly to their moral development, and to the general improvement of their condition. [illustration: fig. .--woman under the safeguard of knighthood, allegorical scene.--costume of the end of the fifteenth century, from a miniature in a latin psalm book (manuscript no. , national library of paris).] "the importance of children, and particularly of the eldest son, was greater in feudal houses than elsewhere.... the eldest son of the noble was, in the eyes of his father and of all his followers, a prince and heir-presumptive, and the hope and glory of the dynasty. these feelings, and the domestic pride and affection of the various members one to another, united to give families much energy and power..... add to this the influence of christian ideas, and it will be understood how this lonely, dull, and hard castle life was, nevertheless, favourable to the development of domestic society, and to that improvement in the condition of women which plays such a great part in the history of our civilisation." [illustration: fig. .--court of love in provence in the fourteenth century (manuscript of the national library of paris).] whatever opinion may be formed of chivalry, it is impossible to deny the influence which this institution exercised on private life in the middle ages. it considerably modified custom, by bringing the stronger sex to respect and defend the weaker. these warriors, who were both simple and externally rough and coarse, required association and intercourse with women to soften them (fig. ). in taking women and helpless widows under their protection, they were necessarily more and more thrown in contact with them. a deep feeling of veneration for woman, inspired by christianity, and, above all, by the worship of the virgin mary, ran throughout the songs of the troubadours, and produced a sort of sentimental reverence for the gentle sex, which culminated in the authority which women had in the courts of love (fig. ). we have now reached the reign of philip augustus, that is to say, the end of the twelfth century. this epoch is remarkable, not only for its political history, but also for its effect on civilisation. christianity had then considerably influenced the world; arts, sciences, and letters, animated by its influence, again began to appear, and to add charms to the leisure of private life. the castles were naturally the first to be affected by this poetical and intellectual regeneration, although it has been too much the custom to exaggerate the ignorance of those who inhabited them. we are too apt to consider the warriors of the middle ages as totally devoid of knowledge, and as hardly able to sign their names, as far as the kings and princes are concerned. this is quite an error; for many of the knights composed poems which exhibit evidence of their high literary culture. it was, in fact, the epoch of troubadours, who might be called professional poets and actors, who went from country to country, and from castle to castle, relating stories of good king artus of brittany and of the knights of the round table; repeating historical poems of the great emperor charlemagne and his followers. these minstrels were always accompanied by jugglers and instrumentalists, who formed a travelling troop (fig. ), having no other mission than to amuse and instruct their feudal hosts. after singing a few fragments of epics, or after the lively recital of some ancient fable, the jugglers would display their art or skill in gymnastic feats or conjuring, which were the more appreciated by the spectators, in that the latter were more or less able to compete with them. these wandering troops acted small comedies, taken from incidents of the times. sometimes, too, the instrumentalists formed an orchestra, and dancing commenced. it may be here remarked that dancing at this epoch consisted of a number of persons forming large circles, and turning to the time of the music or the rhythm of the song. at least the dances of the nobles are thus represented in the mss. of the middle ages. to these amusements were added games of calculation and chance, the fashion for which had much increased, and particularly such games as backgammon, draughts, and chess, to which certain knights devoted all their leisure. from the reign of philip augustus, a remarkable change seems to have taken place in the private life of kings, princes, and nobles. although his domains and revenues had always been on the increase, this monarch never displayed, in ordinary circumstances at least, much magnificence. the accounts of his private expenses for the years and have been preserved, which enable us to discover some curious details bearing witness to the extreme simplicity of the court at that period. the household of the king or royal family was still very small: one chancellor, one chaplain, a squire, a butler, a few knights of the temple, and some sergeants-at-arms were the only officers of the palace. the king and princes of his household only changed apparel three times during the year. [illustration: fig. .--king david playing on the lyre, surrounded by four musicians.--costumes of the thirteenth century (from a miniature in a manuscript psalter in the imperial library, paris).] the children of the king slept in sheets of serge, and their nurses were dressed in gowns of dark-coloured woollen stuff, called _brunette_. the royal cloak, which was of scarlet, was jewelled, but the king only wore it on great ceremonies. at the same time enormous expenses were incurred for implements of war, arrows, helmets with visors, chariots, and for the men-at-arms whom the king kept in his pay. louis ix. personally kept up almost similar habits. the sire de joinville tells us in his "chronicles," that the holy king on his return from his first crusade, in order to repair the damage done to his treasury by the failure of this expedition, would no longer wear costly furs nor robes of scarlet, and contented himself with common stuffs trimmed with hare-skin. he nevertheless did not diminish the officers of his household, which had already become numerous; and being no doubt convinced that royalty required magnificence, he surrounded himself with as much pomp as the times permitted. under the two philips, his successors, this magnificence increased, and descended to the great vassals, who were soon imitated by the knights "bannerets." there seemed to be a danger of luxury becoming so great, and so general in all classes of feudal society, that in an order of the king was issued, regulating in the minutest details the expenses of each person according to his rank in the state, or the fortune which he could prove. but this law had the fate of all such enactments, and was either easily evaded, or was only partially enforced, and that with great difficulty. another futile attempt to put it in practice was made in , when the splendour of dress, of equipages, and of table had become still greater and more ruinous, and had descended progressively to the bourgeois and merchants. it must be stated in praise of philip le bel (fig. ) that, notwithstanding the failure of his attempts to arrest the progress of luxury, he was not satisfied with making laws against the extravagances of his subjects, for we find that he studied a strict economy in his own household, which recalled the austere times of philip augustus. thus, in the curious regulations relating to the domestic arrangements of the palace, the queen, jeanne de navarre, was only allowed two ladies and three maids of honour in her suite, and she is said to have had only two four-horse carriages, one for herself and the other for these ladies. in another place these regulations require that a butler, specially appointed, "should buy all the cloth and furs for the king, take charge of the key of the cupboards where these are kept, know the quantity given to the tailors to make clothes, and check the accounts when the tailors send in their claims for the price of their work." [illustration: fig. .--king philip le bel in war-dress, on the occasion of his entering paris in , after having conquered the communes of flanders.--equestrian statue placed in notre dame, paris, and destroyed in .--fac-simile of a woodcut from thevet's "cosmographie universelle," .] after the death of the pious jeanne de navarre, to whom perhaps we must attribute the wise measures of her husband, philip le bel, the expenses of the royal household materially increased, especially on the occasions of the marriages of the three young sons of the king, from to . gold, diamonds, pearls, and precious stones were employed profusely, both for the king's garments and for those of the members of the royal family. the accounts of mention considerable sums paid for carpets, counterpanes, robes, worked linen, &c. a chariot of state, ornamented and covered with paintings, and gilded like the back of an altar, is also mentioned, and must have been a great change to the heavy vehicles used for travelling in those days. down to the reign of st. louis the furniture of castles had preserved a character of primitive simplicity which did not, however, lack grandeur. the stone remained uncovered in most of the halls, or else it was whitened with mortar and ornamented with moulded roses and leaves, coloured in distemper. against the wall, and also against the pillars supporting the arches, arms and armour of all sorts were hung, arranged in suits, and interspersed with banners and pennants or emblazoned standards. in the great middle hall, or dining-room, there was a long massive oak table, with benches and stools of the same wood. at the end of this table, there was a large arm-chair, overhung with a canopy of golden or silken stuff, which was occupied by the owner of the castle, and only relinquished by him in favour of his superior or sovereign. often the walls of the hall of state were hung with tapestry, representing groves with cattle, heroes of ancient history, or events in the romance of chivalry. the floor was generally paved with hard stone, or covered with enamelled tiles. it was carefully strewn with scented herbs in summer, and straw in winter. philip augustus ordered that the hôtel dieu of paris should receive the herbs and straw which was daily removed from the floors of his palace. it was only very much later that this troublesome system was replaced by mats and carpets. the bedrooms were generally at the top of the towers, and had little else by way of furniture, besides a very large bed, with or without curtains, a box in which clothes were kept, and which also served as a seat, and a _priedieu_ chair, which sometimes contained prayer and other books of devotion. these lofty rooms, whose thick walls kept out the heat in summer, and the cold in winter, were only lighted by a small window or loophole, closed with a square of oiled paper or of thin horn. a great change took place in the abodes of the nobility in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries (fig. ). we find, for instance, in sauval's "history and researches of the antiquities of the city of paris," that the abodes of the kings of the first dynasty had been transformed into palaces of justice by philip le bel; the same author also gives us a vivid description of the château du louvre, and the hôtel st. paul, which the kings inhabited when their court was in the capital. but even without examining into all the royal abodes, it will suffice to give an account of the hôtel de bohême, which, after having been the home of the sires de nesles, of queen blanche of castille, and other great persons, was given by charles vi., in , to his brother, the famous duke louis of orleans. [illustration: fig. .--the knight and his lady.--costumes of the court of burgundy in the fourteenth century; furnished chamber.--miniature in "othea," poem by christine de pisan (brussels library).] "i shall not attempt," says sauval, "to speak of the cellars and wine-cellars, the bakehouses, the fruiteries, the salt-stores, the fur-rooms, the porters' lodges, the stores, the guard-rooms, the wood-yard, or the glass-stores; nor of the servants; nor of the place where _hypocras_ was made; neither shall i describe the tapestry-room, the linen-room, nor the laundry; nor, indeed, any of the various conveniences which were then to be found in the yards of that palace as well as in the other abodes of the princes and nobles. "i shall simply remark, that amongst the many suites of rooms which composed it, two occupied the two first stories of the main building; the first was raised some few steps above the ground-floor of the court, and was occupied by valentine de milan; and her husband, louis of orleans, generally occupied the second. each of these suites of rooms consisted of a great hall, a chamber of state, a large chamber, a wardrobe, some closets, and a chapel. the windows of the halls were thirteen and a half feet[a] high by four and a half wide. the state chambers were eight 'toises,' that is, about fifty feet and a half long. the duke and duchess's chambers were six 'toises' by three, that is, about thirty-six feet by eighteen; the others were seven toises and a half square, all lighted by long and narrow windows of wirework with trellis-work of iron; the wainscots and the ceilings were made of irish wood, the same as at the louvre." [footnote a: french feet.] in this palace there was a room used by the duke, hung with cloth of gold, bordered with vermilion velvet embroidered with roses; the duchess had a room hung with vermilion satin embroidered with crossbows, which were on her coat of arms; that of the duke of burgundy was hung with cloth of gold embroidered with windmills. there were, besides, eight carpets of glossy texture, with gold flowers; one representing "the seven virtues and the seven vices;" another the history of charlemagne; another that of st. louis. there were also cushions of cloth of gold, twenty-four pieces of vermilion leather of aragon, and four carpets of aragon leather, "to be placed on the floor of rooms in summer." the favourite arm-chair of the princess is thus described in an inventory:--"a chamber chair with four supports, painted in fine vermilion, the seat and arms of which are covered with vermilion morocco, or cordovan, worked and stamped with designs representing the sun, birds, and other devices, bordered with fringes of silk and studded with nails." among the ornamental furniture were--"a large vase of massive silver, for holding sugar-plums or sweetmeats, shaped like a square table, supported by four satyrs, also of silver; a fine wooden casket, covered with vermilion cordovan, nailed, and bordered with a narrow gilt band, shutting with a key." [illustration: fig. .--bronze chandeliers of the fourteenth century (collection of m. ach. jubinal).] in the daily life of louis of orleans and his wife, everything corresponded with the luxury of their house. thus, for the amusement of their children, two little books of pictures were made, illuminated with gold, azure, and vermilion, and covered with vermilion leather of cordova, which cost sixty _sols parisis, i.e. four hundred francs. but it was in the custom of new year's gifts that the duke and duchess displayed truly royal magnificence, as we find described in the accounts of their expenses. for instance, in they paid four hundred francs of gold for sheets of silk to give to those who received the new year's gifts from the king and queen. in , one hundred pounds (tournois) were given to jehan taienne, goldsmith, for six silver cups presented to jacques de poschin, the duke's squire. to the sire de la trémouille valentine gives "a cup and basin of gold;" to queen isabella, "a golden image of st. john, surrounded with nine rubies, one sapphire, and twenty-one pearls;" to mademoiselle de luxembourg, "another small golden sacred image, surrounded with pearls;" and lastly, in an account of , headed, "portion of gold and silver jewels bought by madame la duchesse d'orleans as a new year's gift," we find "a clasp of gold, studded with one large ruby and six large pearls, given to the king; three paternosters for the king's daughters, and two large diamonds for the dukes of burgundy and berry." [illustration: fig. .--styli used in writing in the fourteenth century.] such were the habits in private life of the royal princes under charles vi.; and it can easily be shown that the example of royalty was followed not only by the court, but also in the remotest provinces. the great tenants or vassals of the crown each possessed several splendid mansions in their fiefs; the dukes of burgundy, at souvigny, at moulins, and at bourbon l'archambault; the counts of champagne, at troyes; the dukes of burgundy, at dijon; and all the smaller nobles made a point of imitating their superiors. from the fifteenth to the sixteenth centuries, the provinces which now compose france were studded with castles, which were as remarkable for their interior, architecture as for the richness of their furniture; and it may be asserted that the luxury which was displayed in the dwellings of the nobility was the evidence, if not the resuit, of a great social revolution in the manners and customs of private life. at the end of the fourteenth century there lived a much-respected noble of anjou, named geoffroy de latour-landry, who had three daughters. in his old age, he resolved that, considering the dangers which might surround them in consequence of their inexperience and beauty, he would compose for their use a code of admonitions which might guide them in the various circumstances of life. [illustration: a young mother's retinue representing the parisian costumes at the end of the fourteenth century. fac-simile of a miniature from the latin _terence_ of king charles vi. from a manuscript in the bibl. de l'arsenal.] this book of domestic maxims is most curious and instructive, from the details which it contains respecting the manners and customs, mode of conduct, and fashions of the nobility of the period (fig. ). the author mostly illustrates each of his precepts by examples from the life of contemporary personages. [illustration: fig. .--dress of noble ladies and children in the fourteenth century.--miniature in the "merveilles du monde" (manuscript, national library of paris).] the first advice the knight gives his daughters is, to begin the day with prayer; and, in order to give greater weight to his counsel, he relates the following anecdote: "a noble had two daughters; the one was pious, always saying her prayers with devotion, and regularly attending the services of the church; she married an honest man, and was most happy. the other, on the contrary, was satisfied with hearing low mass, and hurrying once or twice through the lord's prayer, after which she went off to indulge herself with sweetmeats. she complained of headaches, and required careful diet. she married a most excellent knight; but, one evening, taking advantage of her husband being asleep, she shut herself up in one of the rooms of the palace, and in company with the people of the household began eating and drinking in the most riotous and excessive manner. the knight awoke; and, surprised not to find his wife by his side, got up, and, armed with a stick, betook himself to the scene of festivity. he struck one of the domestics with such force that he broke his stick in pieces, and one of the fragments flew into the lady's eye and put it out. this caused her husband to take a dislike to her, and he soon placed his affections elsewhere." "my pretty daughters," the moralising parent proceeds, "be courteous and meek, for nothing is more beautiful, nothing so secures the favour of god and the love of others. be then courteous to great and small; speak gently with them.... i have seen a great lady take off her cap and bow to a simple ironmonger. one of her followers seemed astonished. 'i prefer,' she said, 'to have been too courteous towards that man, than to have been guilty of the least incivility to a knight.'" [illustration: fig. .--noble lady and maid of honour, and two burgesses with hoods (fourteenth century), from a miniature in the "merveilles du monde" (manuscript in the imperial library of paris).] latour-landry also advised his daughters to avoid outrageous fashions in dress. "do not be hasty in copying the dress of foreign women. i will relate a story on this subject respecting a bourgeoise of guyenne and the sire de beaumanoir. the lady said to him, 'cousin, i come from brittany, where i saw my fine cousin, your wife, who was not so well dressed as the ladies of guyenne and many other places. the borders of her dress and of her bonnet are not in fashion.' the sire answered, 'since you find fault with the dress and cap of my wife, and as they do not suit you, i shall take care in future that they are changed; but i shall be careful not to choose them similar to yours.... understand, madam, that i wish her to be dressed according to the fashion of the good ladies of france and this country, and not like those of england. it was these last who first introduced into brittany the large borders, the bodices opened on the hips, and the hanging sleeves. i remember the time, and saw it myself, and i have little respect for women who adopt these fashions.'" respecting the high head-dresses "which cause women to resemble stags who are obliged to lower their heads to enter a wood," the knight relates what took place in at the fête of st. marguerite. "there was a young and pretty woman there, quite differently dressed from the others; every one stared at her as if she had been a wild beast. one respectable lady approached her and said, 'my friend, what do you call that fashion?' she answered, 'it is called the "gibbet dress."' 'indeed; but that is not a fine name!' answered the old lady. very soon the name of 'gibbet dress' got known all round the room, and every one laughed at the foolish creature who was thus bedecked." this head-dress did in fact owe its name to its summit, which resembled a gibbet. these extracts from the work of this honest knight, suffice to prove that the customs of french society had, as early as the end of the fourteenth century, taken a decided character which was to remain subject only to modifications introduced at various historical periods. amongst the customs which contributed most to the softening and elegance of the feudal class, we must cite that of sending into the service of the sovereign for some years all the youths of both sexes, under the names of varlets, pages, squires, and maids of honour. no noble, of whatever wealth or power, ever thought of depriving his family of this apprenticeship and its accompanying chivalric education. up to the end of the twelfth century, the number of domestic officers attached to a castle was very limited; we have seen, for instance, that philip augustus contented himself with a few servants, and his queen with two or three maids of honour. under louis ix. this household was much increased, and under philippe le bel and his sons the royal household had become so considerable as to constitute quite a large assemblage of young men and women. under charles vi., the household of queen isabella of bavaria alone amounted to forty-five persons, without counting the almoner, the chaplains, and clerks of the chapel, who must have been very numerous, since the sums paid to them amounted to the large amount of four hundred and sixty francs of gold per annum. [illustration: fig. .--court of the ladies of queen anne of brittany, miniature representing this lady weeping on account of the absence of her husband during the italian war.--manuscript of the "epistres envoyées au roi" (sixteenth century), obtained by the coislin fund for the library of st. germain des pres in paris, now in the library of st. petersburg.] under charles viii., louis xii., and francis i., the service of the young nobility, which was called "apprenticeship of honour or virtue," had taken a much wider range; for the first families of the french nobility were most eager to get their children admitted into the royal household, either to attend on the king or queen, or at any rate on one of the princes of the royal blood. anne of brittany particularly gave special attention to her female attendants (fig. ). "she was the first," says brantôme in his work on "illustrious women," "who began to form the great court of ladies which has descended to our days; for she had a considerable retinue both of adult ladies and young girls. she never refused to receive any one; on the contrary, she inquired of the gentlemen of the court if they had any daughters, ascertained who they were, and asked for them." it was thus that the admiral de graville (fig. ) confided to the good queen the education of his daughter anne, who at this school of the court of ladies became one of the most distinguished women of her day. the same queen, as duchess of brittany, created a company of one hundred breton gentlemen, who accompanied her everywhere. "they never failed," says the author of "illustrious women," "when she went to mass or took a walk, to await her return on the little terrace of blois, which is still called the _perche aux bretons_. she gave it this name herself; for when she saw them she said, 'there are my bretons on the perch waiting for me.'" we must not forget that this queen, who became successively the wife of charles viii. and of louis xii., had taken care to establish a strict discipline amongst the young men and women who composed her court. she rightly considered herself the guardian of the honour of the former, and of the virtue of the latter; therefore, as long as she lived, her court was renowned for purity and politeness, noble and refined gallantry, and was never allowed to degenerate into imprudent amusements or licentious and culpable intrigues. unfortunately, the moral influence of this worthy princess died with her. although the court of france continued to gather around it almost every sort of elegance, and although it continued during the whole of the sixteenth century the most polished of european courts, notwithstanding the great external and civil wars, yet it afforded at the same time a sad example of laxity of morals, which had a most baneful influence on public habits; so much so that vice and corruption descended from class to class, and contaminated all orders of society. if we wished to make investigations into the private life of the lower orders in those times, we should not succeed as we have been able to do with that of the upper classes; for we have scarcely any data to throw light upon their sad and obscure history. bourgeois and peasants were, as we have already shown, long included together with the miserable class of serfs, a herd of human beings without individuality, without significance, who from their birth to their death, whether isolated or collectively, were the "property" of their masters. what must have been the private life of this degraded multitude, bowed down under the most tyrannical and humiliating dependence, we can scarcely imagine; it was in fact but a purely material existence, which has left scarcely any trace in history. [illustration: fig. .--louis de mallet, lord of graville, admiral of france, , in costume of war and tournament, from an engraving of the sixteenth century (national library of paris, cabinet des estampes).] many centuries elapsed before the dawn of liberty could penetrate the social strata of this multitude, thus oppressed and denuded of all power of action. the development was slow, painful, and dearly bought, but at last it took place; first of all towns sprang up, and with them, or rather by their influence, the inhabitants became possessed of social life. the agricultural population took its social position many generations later. as we have already seen, the great movement for the creation of communes and bourgeoisies only dates from the unsettled period ranging from the eleventh to the thirteenth centuries, and simultaneously we see the bourgeois appear, already rich and luxurious, parading on all occasions their personal opulence. their private life could only be an imitation of that in the châteaux; by degrees as wealth strengthened and improved their condition, and rendered them independent, we find them trying to procure luxuries equal or analogous to those enjoyed by the upper classes, and which appeared to them the height of material happiness. in all times the small have imitated the great. it was in vain that the great obstinately threatened, by the exercise of their prerogatives, to try and crush this tendency to equality which alarmed them, by issuing pecuniary edicts, summary laws, coercive regulations, and penal ordinances; by the force of circumstances the arbitrary restrictions which the nobility laid upon the lower classes gradually disappeared, and the power of wealth displayed itself in spite of all their efforts to suppress it. in fact, occasions were not wanting in which the bourgeois class was able to refute the charge of unworthiness with which the nobles sought to stamp it. when taking a place in the council of the king, or employed in the administration of the provinces, many of its members distinguished themselves by firmness and wisdom; when called upon to assist in the national defence, they gave their blood and their gold with noble self-denial; and lastly, they did not fail to prove themselves possessed of those high and delicate sentiments of which the nobility alone claimed the hereditary possession. [illustration: fig. .--burgess of ghent and his wife, in ceremonial attire, kneeling in church, from a painted window belonging to a chapel in that town (fifteenth century).] "the bourgeois," says arnaud de marveil, one of the most famous troubadours of the thirteenth century, "have divers sorts of merits: some distinguish themselves by deeds of honour, others are by nature noble and behave accordingly. there are others thoroughly brave, courteous, frank, and jovial, who, although poor, find means to please by graceful speech, frequenting courts, and making themselves agreeable there; these, well versed in courtesy and politeness, appear in noble attire, and figure conspicuously at the tournaments and military games, proving themselves good judges and good company." down to the thirteenth century, however rich their fathers or husbands might be, the women of the bourgeoisie were not permitted, without incurring a fine, to use the ornaments and stuffs exclusively reserved for the nobility. during the reigns of philip augustus and louis ix., although these arbitrary laws were not positively abolished, a heavy blow was inflicted on them by the marks of confidence, esteem, and honour which these monarchs found pleasure in bestowing on the bourgeoisie. we find the first of these kings, when on the point of starting for a crusade, choosing six from amongst the principal members of the _parloir aux bourgeois_ (it was thus that the first hôtel de ville, situated in the corner of the place de la grève, was named) to be attached to the council of regency, to whom he specially confided his will and the royal treasure. his grandson made a point of following his grandsire's example, and louis ix. showed the same appreciation for the new element which the parisian bourgeoisie was about to establish in political life by making the bourgeois etienne boileau one of his principal ministers of police, and the bourgeois jean sarrazin his chamberlain. under these circumstances, the whole bourgeoisie gloried in the marks of distinction conferred upon their representatives, and during the following reign, the ladies of this class, proud of their immense fortunes, but above all proud of the municipal powers held by their families, bedecked themselves, regardless of expense, with costly furs and rich stuffs, notwithstanding that they were forbidden by law to do so. then came an outcry on the part of the nobles; and we read as follows, in an edict of philippe le bel, who inclined less to the bourgeoisie than to the nobles, and who did not spare the former in matters of taxation:--"no bourgeois shall have a chariot nor wear gold, precious stones, or crowns of gold or silver. bourgeois, not being either prelates nor dignitaries of state, shall not have tapers of wax. a bourgeois possessing two thousand pounds (tournois) or more, may order for himself a dress of twelve sous six deniers, and for his wife one worth sixteen sous at the most." the sou, which was but nominal money, may be reckoned as representing twenty francs, and the denier one franc, but allowance must be made for the enormous difference in the value of silver, which would make twenty francs in the thirteenth century represent upwards of two hundred francs of present currency. [illustration: fig. .--the new-born child, from a miniature in the "histoire de la belle hélaine" (manuscript of the fifteenth century, national library of paris).] but these regulations as to the mode of living were so little or so carelessly observed, that all the successors of philippe le bel thought it necessary to re-enact them, and, indeed, charles vii., one century later, was obliged to censure the excess of luxury in dress by an edict which was, however, no better enforced than the rest. "it has been shown to the said lord" (the king charles vii.), "that of all nations of the habitable globe there are none so changeable, outrageous, and excessive in their manner of dress, as the french nation, and there is no possibility of discovering by their dress the state or calling of persons, be they princes, nobles, bourgeois, or working men, because all are allowed to dress as they think proper, whether in gold or silver, silk or wool, without any regard to their calling." at the end of the thirteenth century, a rich merchant of valenciennes went to the court of the king of france wearing a cloak of furs covered with gold and pearls; seeing that no one offered him a cushion, he proudly sat on his cloak. on leaving he did not attempt to take up the cloak; and on a servant calling his attention to the fact he remarked, "it is not the custom in my country for people to carry away their cushions with them." respecting a journey made by philippe le bel and his wife jeanne de navarre to the towns of bruges and ghent, the historian jean mayer relates that jeanne, on seeing the costly array of the bourgeois of those two rich cities, exclaimed, "i thought i was the only queen here, but i see more than six hundred!" in spite of the laws, the parisian bourgeoisie soon rivalled the flemish in the brilliancy of their dress. thus, in the second half of the fourteenth century, the famous christine de pisan relates that, having gone to visit the wife of a merchant during her confinement, it was not without some amazement that she saw the sumptuous furniture of the apartment in which this woman lay in bed (fig. ). the walls were hung with precious tapestry of cyprus, on which the initials and motto of the lady were embroidered; the sheets were of fine linen of rheims, and had cost more than three hundred pounds; the quilt was a new invention of silk and silver tissue; the carpet was like gold. the lady wore an elegant dress of crimson silk, and rested her head and arms on pillows, ornamented with buttons of oriental pearls. it should be remarked that this lady was not the wife of a large merchant, such as those of venice and genoa, but of a simple retail dealer, who was not above selling articles for four sous; such being the case, we need not be surprised that christine should have considered the anecdote "worthy of being immortalised in a book." it must not, however, be assumed that the sole aim of the bourgeoisie was that of making a haughty and pompous display. this is refuted by the testimony of the "ménagier de paris," a curious anonymous work, the author of which must have been an educated and enlightened bourgeois. the "ménagier," which was first published by the baron jérôme pichon, is a collection of counsels addressed by a husband to his young wife, as to her conduct in society, in the world, and in the management of her household. the first part is devoted to developing the mind of the young housewife; and the second relates to the arrangements necessary for the welfare of her house. it must be remembered that the comparatively trifling duties relating to the comforts of private life, which devolved on the wife, were not so numerous in those days as they are now; but on the other hand they required an amount of practical knowledge on the part of the housewife which she can nowadays dispense with. under this head the "ménagier" is full of information. after having spoken of the prayers which a christian woman should say morning and evening, the author discusses the great question of dress, which has ever been of supreme importance in the eyes of the female sex: "know, dear sister," (the friendly name he gives his young wife), "that in the choice of your apparel you must always consider the rank of your parents and mine, as also the state of my fortune. be respectably dressed, without devoting too much study to it, without too much plunging into new fashions. before leaving your room, see that the collar of your gown be well adjusted and is not put on crooked." [illustration: fig. .--sculptured comb, in ivory, of the sixteenth century (sauvageot collection)] then he dilates on the characters of women, which are too often wilful and unmanageable; on this point, for he is not less profuse in examples than the chevalier de latour-landry, he relates an amusing anecdote, worthy of being repeated and remembered. "i have heard the bailiff of tournay relate, that he had found himself several times at table with men long married, and that he had wagered with them the price of a dinner under the following conditions: the company was to visit the abode of each of the husbands successively, and any one who had a wife obedient enough immediately, without contradicting or making any remark, to consent to count up to four, would win the bet; but, on the other hand, those whose wives showed temper, laughed, or refused to obey, would lose. under these conditions the company gaily adjourned to the abode of robin, whose wife, called marie, had a high opinion of herself. the husband said before all, 'marie, repeat after me what i shall say.' 'willingly, sire.' 'marie, say, "one, two, three!"' but by this time marie was out of patience, and said, 'and seven, and twelve, and fourteen! why, you are making a fool of me!' so that husband lost his wager. "the company next went to the house of maître jean, whose wife, agnescat well knew how to play the lady. jean said, 'repeat after me, one!' 'and two!' answered agnescat disdainfully; so he lost his wager. tassin then tried, and said to dame tassin, 'count one!' 'go upstairs!' she answered, 'if you want to teach counting, i am not a child.' another said, 'go away with you; you must have lost your senses,' or similar words, which made the husbands lose their wagers. those, on the contrary, who had well-behaved wives gained their wager and went away joyful." this amusing quotation suffices to show that the author of the "ménagier de paris" wished to adopt a jocose style, with a view to enliven the seriousness of the subject he was advocating. the part of his work in which he discusses the administration of the house is not less worthy of attention. one of the most curious chapters of the work is that in which he points out the manner in which the young bourgeoise is to behave towards persons in her service. rich people in those days, in whatever station of life, were obliged to keep a numerous retinue of servants. it is curious to find that so far back as the period to which we allude, there was in paris a kind of servants' registry office, where situations were found for servant-maids from the country. the bourgeois gave up the entire management of the servants to his wife; but, on account of her extreme youth, the author of the work in question recommends his wife only to engage servants who shall have been chosen by dame agnes, the nun whom he had placed with her as a kind of governess or companion. "before engaging them," he says, "know whence they come; in what houses they have been; if they have acquaintances in town, and if they are steady. discover what they are capable of doing; and ascertain that they are not greedy, or inclined to drink. if they come from another country, try to find out why they left it; for, generally, it is not without some serious reason that a woman decides upon a change of abode. when you have engaged a maid, do not permit her to take the slightest liberty with you, nor allow her to speak disrespectfully to you. if, on the contrary, she be quiet in her demeanour, honest, modest, and shows herself amenable to reproof, treat her as if she were your daughter. "superintend the work to be done; and choose among your servants those qualified for each special department. if you order a thing to be done immediately, do not be satisfied with the following answers: 'it shall be done presently, or to-morrow early;' otherwise, be sure that you will have to repeat your orders." [illustration: fig. .--dress of maidservants in the thirteenth century.--miniature in a manuscript of the national library of paris.] to these severe instructions upon the management of servants, the bourgeois adds a few words respecting their morality. he recommends that they be not permitted to use coarse or indecent language, or to insult one another (fig. ). although he is of opinion that necessary time should be given to servants at their meals, he does not approve of their remaining drinking and talking too long at table: concerning which practice he quotes a proverb in use at that time: "quand varlet presche à table et cheval paist en gué, il est temps qu'on l'en oste: assez y a esté;" which means, that when a servant talks at table and a horse feeds near a watering-place it is time he should be removed; he has been there long enough. [illustration: fig. .--hôtel des ursins, paris, built during the fourteenth century, restored in the sixteenth, and now destroyed.--state of the north front at the end of the last century.] the manner in which the author concludes his instruction proves his kindness of heart, as well as his benevolence: "if one of your servants fall sick, it is your duty, setting everything else aside, to see to his being cured." it was thus that a bourgeois of the fifteenth century expressed himself; and as it is clear that he could only have been inspired to dictate his theoretical teachings by the practical experience which he must have gained for the most part among the middle class to which he belonged, we must conclude that in those days the bourgeoisie possessed considerable knowledge of moral dignity and social propriety. it must be added that by the side of the merchant and working bourgeoisie--who, above all, owed their greatness to the high functions of the municipality--the parliamentary bourgeoisie had raised itself to power, and that from the fourteenth century it played a considerable part in the state, holding at several royal courts at different periods, and at last, almost hereditarily, the highest magisterial positions. the very character of these great offices of president, or of parliamentary counsel, barristers, &c., proves that the holders must have had no small amount of intellectual culture. in this way a refined taste was created among this class, which the protection of kings, princes, and lords had alone hitherto encouraged. we find, for example, the grosliers at lyons, the de thous and seguiers in paris, regardless of their bourgeois origin, becoming judicious and zealous patrons of poets, scholars, and artists. a description of paris, published in the middle of the fifteenth century, describes amongst the most splendid residences of the capital the hotels of juvénal des ursins (fig. ), of bureau de dampmartin, of guillaume seguin, of mille baillet, of martin double, and particularly that of jacques duchié, situated in the rue des prouvaires, in which were collected at great cost collections of all kinds of arms, musical instruments, rare birds, tapestry, and works of art. in each church in paris, and there were upwards of a hundred, the principal chapels were founded by celebrated families of the ancient bourgeoisie, who had left money for one or more masses to be said daily for the repose of the soûls of their deceased members. in the burial-grounds, and principally in that of the innocents, the monuments of these families of parisian bourgeoisie were of the most expensive character, and were inscribed with epitaphs in which the living vainly tried to immortalise the deeds of the deceased. every one has heard of the celebrated tomb of nicholas flamel and pernelle his wife (fig. ), the cross of bureau, the epitaph of yolande bailly, who died in , at the age of eighty-eight, and who "saw, or might have seen, two hundred and ninety-five children descended from her." in fact, the religious institutions of paris afford much curious and interesting information relative to the history of the bourgeoisie. for instance, jean alais, who levied a tax of one denier on each basket of fish brought to market, and thereby amassed an enormous fortune, left the whole of it at his death for the purpose of erecting a chapel called st. agnes, which soon after became the church of st. eustace. he further directed that, by way of expiation, his body should be thrown into the sewer which drained the offal from the market, and covered with a large stone; this sewer up to the end of the last century was still called pont alais. [illustration: fig. .--nicholas flamel and pernelle, his wife, from a painting executed at the end of the fifteenth century, under the vaults of the cemetery of the innocents, in paris.] very often when citizens made gifts during their lifetime to churches or parishes, the donors reserved to themselves certain privileges which were calculated to cause the motives which had actuated them to be open to criticism. thus, in , the daughters of nicholas arrode, formerly provost of the merchants, presented to the church of st. jacques-la-boucherie the house and grounds which they inhabited, but one of them reserved the right of having a key of the church that she might go in whenever she pleased. guillaume haussecuel, in , bought a similar right for the sum of eighteen _sols parisis_ per annum (equal to twenty-five francs); and alain and his wife, whose house was close to two chapels of the church, undertook not to build so as in any way to shut out the light from one of the chapels on condition that they might open a small window into the chapel, and so be enabled to hear the service without leaving their room. [illustration: fig. .--country life--fac-simile of a woodcut in a folio edition of virgil, published at lyons in .] we thus see that the bourgeoisie, especially of paris, gradually took a more prominent position in history, and became so grasping after power that it ventured, at a period which does not concern us here, to aspire to every sort of distinction, and to secure an important social standing. what had been the exception during the sixteenth century became the rule two centuries later. we will now take a glance at the agricultural population (fig. ), who, as we have already stated, were only emancipated from serfdom at the end of the eighteenth century. but whatever might have been formerly the civil condition of the rural population, everything leads us to suppose that there were no special changes in their private and domestic means of existence from a comparatively remote period down to almost the present time. a small poem of the thirteenth century, entitled, "de l'oustillement au vilain," gives a clear though rough sketch of the domestic state of the peasantry. strange as it may seem, it must be acknowledged that, with a few exceptions resulting from the progress of time, it would not be difficult, even at the present day, to find the exact type maintained in the country districts farthest away from the capital and large towns; at all events, they were faithfully represented at the time of the revolution of . [illustration: fig. .--sedentary occupations of the peasauts.--fac-simile from an engraving on wood, attributed to holbein, in the "cosmographie" of munster (basle, , folio).] we gather from this poem, which must be considered an authentic and most interesting document, that the _manse_ or dwelling of the villain comprised three distinct buildings; the first for the corn, the second for the hay and straw, the third for the man and his family. in this rustic abode a fire of vine branches and faggots sparkled in a large chimney furnished with an iron pot-hanger, a tripod, a shovel, large fire-irons, a cauldron and a meat-hook. next to the fireplace was an oven, and in close proximity to this an enormous bedstead, on which the villain, his wife, his children, and even the stranger who asked for hospitality, could all be easily accommodated; a kneading trough, a table, a bench, a cheese cupboard, a jug, and a few baskets made up the rest of the furniture. the villain also possessed other utensils, such as a ladder, a mortar, a hand-mill--for every one then was obliged to grind his own corn; a mallet, some nails, some gimlets, fishing lines, hooks, and baskets, &c. [illustration: fig. .--villains before going to work receiving their lord's orders.--miniature in the "propriétaire des choses."--manuscript of the fifteenth century (library of the arsenal, in paris).] his working implements were a plough, a scythe, a spade, a hoe, large shears, a knife and a sharpening stone; he had also a waggon, with harness for several horses, so as to be able to accomplish the different tasks required of him under feudal rights, either by his proper lord, or by the sovereign; for the villain was liable to be called upon to undertake every kind of work of this sort. his dress consisted of a blouse of cloth or skin fastened by a leather belt round the waist, an overcoat or mantle of thick woollen stuff, which fell from his shoulders to half-way down his legs; shoes or large boots, short woollen trousers, and from his belt there hung his wallet and a sheath for his knife (figs. and ). he generally went bareheaded, but in cold weather or in rain he wore a sort of hat of similar stuff to his coat, or one of felt with a broad brim. he seldom wore _mouffles_, or padded gloves, except when engaged in hedging. a small kitchen-garden, which he cultivated himself, was usually attached to the cottage, which was guarded by a large watch-dog. there was also a shed for the cows, whose milk contributed to the sustenance of the establishment; and on the thatched roof of this and his cottage the wild cats hunted the rats and mice. the family were never idle, even in the bad season, and the children were taught from infancy to work by the side of their parents (fig. ). if, then, we find so much resemblance between the abodes of the villains of the thirteenth century and those of the inhabitants of the poorest communes of france in the present day, we may fairly infer that there must be a great deal which is analogous between the inhabitants themselves of the two periods; for in the châteaux as well as in the towns we find the material condition of the dwellings modifying itself conjointly with that of the moral condition of the inhabitants. [illustration: fig. .--the egotistical and envious villain.--from a miniature in "proverbes et adages, &c.," manuscript of the la vallière fund, in the national library of paris, with this legend: "attrapez y sont les plus fins: qui trop embrasse mal estraint." ("the cleverest burn their fingers at it, and those who grasp all may lose all.") ] another little poem entitled, "on the twenty-four kinds of villains," composed about the same period as the one above referred to, gives us a graphic description of the varieties of character among the feudal peasants. one example is given of a man who will not tell a traveller the way, but merely in a surly way answers, "you know it better than i" (fig. ). another, sitting at his door on a sunday, laughs at those passing by, and says to himself when he sees a gentleman going hawking with a bird on his wrist, "ah! that bird will eat a hen to-day, and our children could all feast upon it!" another is described as a sort of madman who equally despises god, the saints, the church, and the nobility. his neighbour is an honest simpleton, who, stopping in admiration before the doorway of notre dame in paris in order to admire the statues of pepin, charlemagne, and their successors, has his pocket picked of his purse. another villain is supposed to make trade of pleading the cause of others before "messire le bailli;" he is very eloquent in trying to show that in the time of their ancestors the cows had a free right of pasture in such and such a meadow, or the sheep on such and such a ridge; then there is the miser, and the speculator, who converts all his possessions into ready money, so as to purchase grain against a bad season; but of course the harvest turns out to be excellent, and he does not make a farthing, but runs away to conceal his ruin and rage. there is also the villain who leaves his plough to become a poacher. there are many other curious examples which altogether tend to prove that there has been but little change in the villager class since the first periods of history. [illustration: fig. .--the covetous and avaricious villain.--from a miniature in "proverbes et adages, &c," manuscript in the national library of paris, with this legend: "je suis icy levant les yeulx eu ce haut lieu des attendens, en convoitant pour avoir mieulx prendre la lune avec les dens." ("even on this lofty height we yet look higher, as nothing will satisfy us but to clutch the moon.") ] notwithstanding the miseries to which they were generally subject, the rural population had their days of rest and amusement, which were then much more numerous than at present. at that period the festivals of the church were frequent and rigidly kept, and as each of them was the pretext for a forced holiday from manual labour, the peasants thought of nothing, after church, but of amusing themselves; they drank, talked, sang, danced, and, above all, laughed, for the laugh of our forefathers quite rivalled the homeric laugh, and burst forth with a noisy joviality (fig. ). the "wakes," or evening parties, which are still the custom in most of the french provinces, and which are of very ancient origin, formed important events in the private lives of the peasants. it was at these that the strange legends and vulgar superstitions, which so long fed the minds of the ignorant classes, were mostly created and propagated. it was there that those extraordinary and terrible fairy tales were related, as well as those of magicians, witches, spirits, &c. it was there that the matrons, whose great age justified their experience, insisted on proving, by absurd tales, that they knew all the marvellous secrets for causing happiness or for curing sickness. consequently, in those days the most enlightened rustic never for a moment doubted the truth of witchcraft. in fact, one of the first efforts at printing was applied to reproducing the most ridiculous stories under the title of the "evangile des conuilles ou quenouilles," and which had been previously circulated in manuscript, and had obtained implicit belief. the author of this remarkable collection asserts that the matrons in his neighbourhood had deputed him to put together in writing the sayings suitable for all conditions of rural life which were believed in by them and were announced at the wakes. the absurdities and childish follies which he has dared to register under their dictation are almost incredible. the "evangile des quenouilles," which was as much believed in as holy writ, tells us, amongst other secrets which it contains for the advantage of the reader, that a girl wishing to know the christian name of her future husband, has but to stretch the first thread she spins in the morning across the doorway; and that the first man who passes and touches the thread will necessarily have the same name as the man she is destined to marry. another of the stories in this book was, that if a woman, on leaving off work on saturday night, left her distaff loaded, she might be sure that the thread she would obtain from it during the following week would only produce linen of bad quality, which could not be bleached; this was considered to be proved by the fact that the germans wore dark-brown coloured shirts, and it was known that the women never unloaded their distaffs from saturday to monday. should a woman enter a cow-house to milk her cows without saying "god and st. bridget bless you!" she was thought to run the risk of the cows kicking and breaking the milk-pail and spilling the milk. [illustration: fig. .--village feast.--fac-simile of a woodcut of the "sandrin ou verd galant," facetious work of the end of the sixteenth century (edition of ).] this silly nonsense, compiled like oracles, was printed as late as . eighty years later a gentleman of brittany, named noel du fail, lord of herissaye, councillor in the parliament of rennes, published, under the title of "rustic and amusing discourses," a work intended to counteract the influence of the famous "evangile des quenouilles." this new work was a simple and true sketch of country habits, and proved the elegance and artless simplicity of the author, as well as his accuracy of observation. he begins thus: "occasionally, having to retire into the country more conveniently and uninterruptedly to finish some business, on a particular holiday, as i was walking i came to a neighbouring village, where the greater part of the old and young men were assembled, in groups of separate ages, for, according to the proverb, 'each seeks his like.' the young were practising the bow, jumping, wrestling, running races, and playing other games. the old were looking on, some sitting under an oak, with their legs crossed, and their hats lowered over their eyes, others leaning on their elbows criticizing every performance, and refreshing the memory of their own youth, and taking a lively interest in seeing the gambols of the young people." the author states that on questioning one of the peasants to ascertain who was the cleverest person present, the following dialogue took place: "the one you see leaning on his elbow, hitting his boots, which have white strings, with a hazel stick, is called anselme; he is one of the rich ones of the village, he is a good workman, and not a bad writer for the flat country; and the one you see by his side, with his thumb in his belt, hanging from which is a large game bag, containing spectacles and an old prayer book, is called pasquier, one of the greatest wits within a day's journey--nay, were i to say two i should not be lying. anyhow, he is certainly the readiest of the whole company to open his purse to give drink to his companions." "and that one," i asked, "with the large milanese cap on his head, who holds an old book?" "that one," he answered, "who is scratching the end of his nose with one hand and his beard with the other?" "that one," i replied, "and who has turned towards us?" "why," said he, "that is roger bontemps, a merry careless fellow, who up to the age of fifty kept the parish school; but changing his first trade he has become a wine-grower. however, he cannot resist the feast days, when he brings us his old books, and reads to us as long as we choose, such works as the 'calondrier des bergers,' 'fables d'esope,' 'le roman de la rose,' 'matheolus,' 'alain chartier,' 'les vigiles du feu roy charles,' 'les deux grebans,' and others. neither, with his old habit of warbling, can he help singing on sundays in the choir; and he is called huguet. the other sitting near him, looking over his shoulder into his book, and wearing a sealskin belt with a yellow buckle, is another rich peasant of the village, not a bad villain, named lubin, who also lives at home, and is called the little old man of the neighbourhood." after this artistic sketch, the author dilates on the goodman anselme. he says: "this good man possessed a moderate amount of knowledge, was a goodish grammarian, a musician, somewhat of a sophist, and rather given to picking holes in others." some of anselme's conversation is also given, and after beginning by describing in glowing terms the bygone days which he and his contemporaries had seen, and which he stated to be very different to the present, he goes on to say, "i must own, my good old friends, that i look back with pleasure on our young days; at all events the mode of doing things in those days was very superior and better in every way to that of the present.... o happy days! o fortunate times when our fathers and grandfathers, whom may god absolve, were still among us!" as he said this, he would raise the rim of his hat. he contented himself as to dress with a good coat of thick wool, well lined according to the fashion; and for feast days and other important occasions, one of thick cloth, lined with some old gabardine. [illustration: fig. .--the shepherds celebrating the birth of the messiah by songs and dances.--fifteenth century.--fac-simile of an engraving on wood, from a book of hours, printed by anthony verard.] "so we see," says m. le roux de lincy, "at the end of the fifteenth century that the old peasants complained of the changes in the village customs, and of the luxury which every one wished to display in his furniture or apparel. on this point it seems that there has been little or no change. we read that, from the time of homer down to that of the excellent author of 'rustic discourses,' and even later, the old people found fault with the manners of the present generation and extolled those of their forefathers, which they themselves had criticized in their own youth." [illustration: fig. .--purse or leather bag, with knife or dagger of the fifteenth century.] food and cookery. history of bread.--vegetables and plants used in cooking.--fruits.--butchers' meat.--poultry, game.--milk, butter, cheese, and eggs.--fish and shellfish.--beverages, beer, cider, wine, sweet wine, refreshing drinks, brandy.--cookery.--soups, boiled food, pies, stews, salads, roasts, grills.--seasoning, truffles, sugar, verjuice.--sweets, desserts, pastry.--meals and feasts.--rules of serving at table from the fifteenth to the sixteenth centuries. "the private life of a people," says legrand d'aussy, who had studied that of the french from a gastronomic point of view only, "from the foundation of monarchy down to the eighteenth century, must, like that of mankind generally, commence with obtaining the first and most pressing of its requirements. not satisfied with providing food for his support, man has endeavoured to add to his food something which pleased his taste. he does not wait to be hungry, but he anticipates that feeling, and aggravates it by condiments and seasonings. in a word his greediness has created on this score a very complicated and wide-spread science, which, amongst nations which are considered civilised, has become most important, and is designated the culinary art." at all times the people of every country have strained the nature of the soil on which they lived by forcing it to produce that which it seemed destined ever to refuse them. such food as human industry was unable to obtain from any particular soil or from any particular climate, commerce undertook to bring from the country which produced it. this caused rabelais to say that the stomach was the father and master of industry. we will rapidly glance over the alimentary matters which our forefathers obtained from the animal and vegetable kingdom, and then trace the progress of culinary art, and examine the rules of feasts and such matters as belong to the epicurean customs of the middle ages. aliments. bread.--the gauls, who principally inhabited deep and thick forests, fed on herbs and fruits, and particularly on acorns. it is even possible that the veneration in which they held the oak had no other origin. this primitive food continued in use, at least in times of famine, up to the eighth century, and we find in the regulations of st. chrodegand that if, in consequence of a bad year, the acorn or beech-nut became scarce, it was the bishop's duty to provide something to make up for it. eight centuries later, when rené du bellay, bishop of mans, came to report to francis i. the fearful poverty of his diocese, he informed the king that the inhabitants in many places were reduced to subsisting on acorn bread. [illustration: figs. and .--corn-threshing and bread-making.--miniatures from the calendar of a book of hours.--manuscript of the sixteenth century.] in the earliest times bread was cooked under the embers. the use of ovens was introduced into europe by the romans, who had found them in egypt. but, notwithstanding this importation, the old system of cooking was long after employed, for in the tenth century raimbold, abbot of the monastery of st. thierry, near rheims, ordered in his will that on the day of his death bread cooked under the embers--_panes subcinericios_--should be given to his monks. by feudal law the lord was bound to bake the bread of his vassals, for which they were taxed, but the latter often preferred to cook their flour at home in the embers of their own hearths, rather than to carry it to the public oven. [illustration: fig. .--the miller.--from an engraving of the sixteenth century, by j. amman.] it must be stated that the custom of leavening the dough by the addition of a ferment was not universally adopted amongst the ancients. for this reason, as the dough without leaven could only produce a heavy and indigestible bread, they were careful, in order to secure their loaves being thoroughly cooked, to make them very thin. these loaves served as plates for cutting up the other food upon, and when they thus became saturated with the sauce and gravy they were eaten as cakes. the use of the _tourteaux_ (small crusty loaves), which were at first called _tranchoirs_ and subsequently _tailloirs_, remained long in fashion even at the most splendid banquets. thus, in , the dauphin of vienna, humbert ii., had, besides the small white bread, four small loaves to serve as _tranchoirs_ at table. the "ménagier de paris" mentions "_des pains de tranchouers_ half a foot in diameter, and four fingers deep," and froissart the historian also speaks of _tailloirs_. it would be difficult to point out the exact period at which leavening bread was adopted in europe, but we can assert that in the middle ages it was anything but general. yeast, which, according to pliny, was already known to the gauls, was reserved for pastry, and it was only at the end of the sixteenth century that the bakers of paris used it for bread. at first the trades of miller and baker were carried on by the same person (figs. and ). the man who undertook the grinding of the grain had ovens near his mill, which he let to his lord to bake bread, when he did not confine his business to persons who sent him their corn to grind. [illustration: fig. .--the baker.--from an engraving of the sixteenth century, by j. amman.] at a later period public bakers established themselves, who not only baked the loaves which were brought to them already kneaded, but also made bread which they sold by weight; and this system was in existence until very recently in the provinces. charlemagne, in his "capitulaires" (statutes), fixed the number of bakers in each city according to the population, and st. louis relieved them, as well as the millers, from taking their turn at the watch, so that they might have no pretext for stopping or neglecting their work, which he considered of public utility. nevertheless bakers as a body never became rich or powerful (figs. and ). it is pretty generally believed that the name of _boulanger_ (baker) originated from the fact that the shape of the loaves made at one time was very like that of a round ball. but loaves varied so much in form, quality, and consequently in name, that in his "dictionary of obscure words" the learned du cange specifies at least twenty sorts made during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, and amongst them may be mentioned the court loaf, the pope's loaf, the knight's loaf, the squire's loaf, the peer's loaf, the varlet's loaf, &c. [illustration: fig. .--banner of the corporation of bakers of paris.] [illustration: fig. .--banner of the corporation, of bakers of arras.] the most celebrated bread was the white bread of chailly or chilly, a village four leagues (ten miles) south of paris, which necessarily appeared at all the tables of the _élite_ of the fourteenth century. the _pain mollet_, or soft bread made with milk and butter, although much in use before this, only became fashionable on the arrival of marie de medicis in france ( ), on account of this tuscan princess finding it so much to her taste that she would eat no other. the ordinary market bread of paris comprised the _rousset bread_, made of meslin, and employed for soup; the _bourgeoisie bread_; and the _chaland_ or _customer's bread_, which last was a general name given to all descriptions which were sent daily from the neighbouring villages to the capital. amongst the best known varieties we will only mention the _corbeil bread_, the _dog bread_, the _bread of two colours_, which last was composed of alternate layers of wheat and rye, and was used by persons of small means; there was also the _gonesse bread_, which has maintained its reputation to this day. the "table loaves," which in the provinces were served at the tables of the rich, were of such a convenient size that one of them would suffice for a man of ordinary appetite, even after the crust was cut off, which it was considered polite to offer to the ladies, who soaked it in their soup. for the servants an inferior bread was baked, called "common bread." in many counties they sprinkled the bread, before putting it into the oven, with powdered linseed, a custom which still exists. they usually added salt to the flour, excepting in certain localities, especially in paris, where, on account of its price, they only mixed it with the expensive qualities. the wheats which were long most esteemed for baking purposes, were those of brie, champagne, and bassigny; while those of the dauphiné were held of little value, because they were said to contain so many tares and worthless grains, that the bread made from them produced headache and other ailments. an ancient chronicle of the time of charlemagne makes mention of a bread twice baked, or biscuit. this bread was very hard, and easier to keep than any other description. it was also used, as now, for provisioning ships, or towns threatened with a siege, as well as in religious houses. at a later period, delicate biscuits were made of a sort of dry and crumbling pastry which retained the original name. as early as the sixteenth century, rheims had earned a great renown for these articles of food. bread made with barley, oats, or millet was always ranked as coarse food, to which the poor only had recourse in years of want (fig. ). barley bread was, besides, used as a kind of punishment, and monks who had committed any serious offence against discipline were condemned to live on it for a certain period. rye bread was held of very little value, although in certain provinces, such as lyonnais, forez, and auvergne, it was very generally used among the country people, and contributed, says bruyérin champier in his treatise "de re cibaria," to "preserve beauty and freshness amongst women." at a later period, the doctors of paris frequently ordered the use of bread made half of wheat and half of rye as a means "of preserving the health." black wheat, or buck wheat, which was introduced into europe by the moors and saracens when they conquered spain, quickly spread to the northern provinces, especially to flanders, where, by its easy culture and almost certain yield, it averted much suffering from the inhabitants, who were continually being threatened with famine. it was only later that maize, or turkey wheat, was cultivated in the south, and that rice came into use; but these two kinds of grain, both equally useless for bread, were employed the one for fattening poultry, and the other for making cakes, which, however, were little appreciated. [illustration: fig. .--cultivation of grain in use amongst the peasants, and the manufacture of barley and oat bread.--fac-simile of a woodcut in an edition of virgil published at lyons in .] vegetables and plants used in cooking.--from the most ancient historical documents we find that at the very earliest period of the french monarchy, fresh and dried vegetables were the ordinary food of the population. pliny and columella attribute a gallic origin to certain roots, and among them onions and parsnips, which the romans cultivated in their gardens for use at their tables. it is evident, however, that vegetables were never considered as being capable of forming solid nutriment, since they were almost exclusively used by monastic communities when under vows of extreme abstinence. a statute of charlemagne, in which the useful plants which the emperor desired should be cultivated in his domains are detailed, shows us that at that period the greater part of our cooking vegetables were in use, for we find mentioned in it, fennel, garlic, parsley, shallot, onions, watercress, endive, lettuce, beetroot, cabbage, leeks, carrots, artichokes; besides long-beans, broad-beans, peas or italian vetches, and lentils. in the thirteenth century, the plants fit for cooking went under the general appellation of _aigrun_, and amongst them, at a later date, were ranked oranges, lemons, and other acid fruits. st. louis added to this category even fruits with hard rinds, such as walnuts, filberts, and chestnuts; and when the guild of the fruiterers of paris received its statutes in , they were still called "vendors of fruits and _aigrun_." the vegetables and cooking-plants noticed in the "ménagier de paris," which dates from the fourteenth century, and in the treatise "de obsoniis," of platina (the name adopted by the italian bartholomew sacchi), which dates from the fifteenth century, do not lead us to suppose that alimentary horticulture had made much progress since the time of charlemagne. moreover, we are astonished to find the thistle placed amongst choice dishes; though it cannot be the common thistle that is meant, but probably this somewhat general appellation refers to the vegetable-marrow, which is still found on the tables of the higher classes, or perhaps the artichoke, which we know to be only a kind of thistle developed by cultivation, and which at that period had been recently imported. about the same date melons begin to appear; but the management of this vegetable fruit was not much known. it was so imperfectly cultivated in the northern provinces, that, in the middle of the sixteenth century, bruyérin champier speaks of the languedocians as alone knowing how to produce excellent _sucrins_--"thus called," say both charles estienne and liébault in the "maison rustique," "because gardeners watered them with honeyed or sweetened water." the water-melons have never been cultivated but in the south. cabbages, the alimentary reputation of which dates from the remotest times, were already of several kinds, most of which have descended to us; amongst them may be mentioned the apple-headed, the roman, the white, the common white head, the easter cabbage, &c.; but the one held in the highest estimation was the famous cabbage of senlis, whose leaves, says an ancient author, when opened, exhaled a smell more agreeable than musk or amber. this species no doubt fell into disuse when the plan of employing aromatic herbs in cooking, which was so much in repute by our ancestors, was abandoned. [illustration: fig. .--coat-of-arms of the grain-measurers of ghent, on their ceremonial banner, dated .] by a strange coincidence, at the same period as marjoram, carraway seed, sweet basil, coriander, lavender, and rosemary were used to add their pungent flavour to sauces and hashes, on the same tables might be found herbs of the coldest and most insipid kinds, such as mallows, some kinds of mosses, &c. cucumber, though rather in request, was supposed to be an unwholesome vegetable, because it was said that the inhabitants of forez, who ate much of it, were subject to periodical fevers, which might really have been caused by noxious emanation from the ponds with which that country abounded. lentils, now considered so wholesome, were also long looked upon as a doubtful vegetable; according to liébault, they were difficult to digest and otherwise injurious; they inflamed the inside, affected the sight, and brought on the nightmare, &c. on the other hand, small fresh beans, especially those sold at landit fair, were used in the most delicate repasts; peas passed as a royal dish in the sixteenth century, when the custom was to eat them with salt pork. turnips were also most esteemed by the parisians. "this vegetable is to them," says charles estienne, "what large radishes are to the limousins." the best were supposed to come from maisons, vaugirard, and aubervilliers. lastly, there were four kinds of lettuces grown in france, according to liébault, in : the small, the common, the curled, and the roman: the seed of the last-named was sent to france by françois rabelais when he was in rome with cardinal du bellay in ; and the salad made from it consequently received the name of roman salad, which it has ever since retained. in fact, our ancestors much appreciated salads, for there was not a banquet without at least three or four different kinds. fruits.--western europe was originally very poor in fruits, and it only improved by foreign importations, mostly from asia by the romans. the apricot came from armenia, the pistachio-nuts and plums from syria, the peach and nut from persia, the cherry from cerasus, the lemon from media, the filbert from the hellespont, and chestnuts from castana, a town of magnesia. we are also indebted to asia for almonds; the pomegranate, according to some, came from africa, to others from cyprus; the quince from cydon in crete; the olive, fig, pear, and apple, from greece. the statutes of charlemagne show us that almost all these fruits were reared in his gardens, and that some of them were of several kinds or varieties. a considerable period, however, elapsed before the finest and more luscious productions of the garden became as it were almost forced on nature by artificial means. thus in the sixteenth century we find rabelais, charles estienne, and la framboisière, physician to henry iv., praising the corbeil peach, which was only an inferior and almost wild sort, and describing it as having "_dry_ and _solid_ flesh, not adhering to the stone." the culture of this fruit, which was not larger than a damask plum, had then, according to champier, only just been introduced into france. it must be remarked here that jacques coythier, physician to louis xi., in order to curry favour with his master, who was very fond of new fruits, took as his crest an apricot-tree, from which he was jokingly called abri-coythier. [illustration: fig. .--cultivation of fruit, from a miniature of the "propriétaire de choses" (manuscript of the fifteenth century, in the library of the arsenal of paris).] it must be owned that great progress has been made in the culture of the plum, the pear, and the apple. champier says that the best plums are the _royale_, the _perdrigon_, and the _damas_ of tours; olivier de serres mentions eighteen kinds--amongst which, however, we do not find the celebrated reine claude (greengage), which owes its name to the daughter of louis xii., first wife of francis i. of pears, the most esteemed in the thirteenth century were the _hastiveau_, which was an early sort, and no doubt the golden pear now called st. jean, the _caillou_ or _chaillou_, a hard pear, which came from cailloux in burgundy and _l'angoisse_ (agony), so called on account of its bitterness--which, however, totally disappeared in cooking. in the sixteenth century the palm is given to the _cuisse dame_, or _madame_; the _bon chrétien_, brought, it is said, by st. françois de paule to louis xi.; the _bergamote_, which came from bergamo, in lombardy; the _tant-bonne_, so named from its aroma; and the _caillou rosat_, our rosewater pear. amongst apples, the _blandureau_ (hard white) of auvergne, the _rouveau_, and the _paradis_ of provence, are of oldest repute. this reminds us of the couplet by the author of the "street cries of paris," thirteenth century:-- "primes ai pommes de rouviau, et d'auvergne le blanc duriau." ("give me first the russet apple, and the hard white fruit of auvergne.") the quince, which was so generally cultivated in the middle ages, was looked upon as the most useful of all fruits. not only did it form the basis of the farmers' dried preserves of orleans, called _cotignac_, a sort of marmalade, but it was also used for seasoning meat. the portugal quince was the most esteemed; and the cotignac of orleans had such a reputation, that boxes of this fruit were always given to kings, queens, and princes on entering the towns of france. it was the first offering made to joan of arc on her bringing reinforcements into orleans during the english siege. several sorts of cherries were known, but these did not prevent the small wild or wood cherry from being appreciated at the tables of the citizens; whilst the _cornouille_, or wild cornelian cherry, was hardly touched, excepting by the peasants; thence came the proverbial expression, more particularly in use at orleans, when a person made a silly remark, "he has eaten cornelians," _i.e._, he speaks like a rustic. in the thirteenth century, chestnuts from lombardy were hawked in the streets; but, in the sixteenth century, the chestnuts of the lyonnais and auvergne were substituted, and were to be found on the royal table. four different sorts of figs, in equal estimation, were brought from marseilles, nismes, saint-andéol, and pont saint-esprit; and in provence, filberts were to be had in such profusion that they supplied from there all the tables of the kingdom. the portuguese claim the honour of having introduced oranges from china; however, in an account of the house of humbert, dauphin of viennois, in , that is, long before the expeditions of the portuguese to india, mention is made of a sum of money being paid for transplanting orange-trees. [illustration: figs. and .--culture of the vine and treading the grape.--miniatures taken from the calendar of a prayer-book, in manuscript, of the sixteenth century.] in the time of bruyérin champier, physician to henry ii., raspberries were still completely wild; the same author states that wood strawberries had only just at that time been introduced into gardens, "by which," he says, "they had attained a larger size, though they at the same time lost their quality." the vine, acclimatised and propagated by the gauls, ever since the followers of brennus had brought it from italy, five hundred years before the christian era, never ceased to be productive, and even to constitute the natural wealth of the country (fig. and ). in the sixteenth century, liébault enumerated nineteen sorts of grapes, and olivier de serres twenty-four, amongst which, notwithstanding the eccentricities of the ancient names, we believe that we can trace the greater part of those plants which are now cultivated in france. for instance, it is known that the excellent vines of thomery, near fontainebleau, which yield in abundance the most beautiful table grape which art and care can produce, were already in use in the reign of henry iv. (fig. ). [illustration: fig. .--the winegrower, drawn and engraved in the sixteenth century, by j. amman.] in the time of the gauls the custom of drying grapes by exposing them to the sun, or to a certain amount of artificial heat, was already known; and very soon after, the same means were adopted for preserving plums, an industry in which then, as now, the people of tours and rheims excelled. drying apples in an oven was also the custom, and formed a delicacy which was reserved for winter and spring banquets. dried fruits were also brought from abroad, as mentioned in the "book of street cries in paris:"-- "figues de mélités sans fin, j'ai roisin d'outre mer, roisin." ("figs from malta without end, and grapes from over the sea.") butchers' meat.--according to strabo, the gauls were great eaters of meat, especially of pork, whether fresh or salted. "gaul," says he, "feeds so many flocks, and, above all, so many pigs, that it supplies not only rome, but all italy, with grease and salt meat." the second chapter of the salic law, comprising nineteen articles, relates entirely to penalties for pig-stealing; and in the laws of the visigoths we find four articles on the same subject. [illustration: fig. .--swineherd. illustration: fig .--a burgess at meals. miniatures from the calendar of a book of hours.--manuscript of the sixteenth century.] in those remote days, in which the land was still covered with enormous forests of oak, great facilities were offered for breeding pigs, whose special liking for acorns is well known. thus the bishops, princes, and lords caused numerous droves of pigs to be fed on their domains, both for the purpose of supplying their own tables as well as for the fairs and markets. at a subsequent period, it became the custom for each household, whether in town or country, to rear and fatten a pig, which was killed and salted at a stated period of the year; and this custom still exists in many provinces. in paris, for instance, there was scarcely a bourgeois who had not two or three young pigs. during the day these unsightly creatures were allowed to roam in the streets; which, however, they helped to keep clean by eating up the refuse of all sorts which was thrown out of the houses. one of the sons of louis le gros, while passing, on the nd of october, , in the rue du martroi, between the hôtel de ville and the church of st. gervais, fractured his skull by a fall from his horse, caused by a pig running between that animal's legs. this accident led to the first order being issued by the provosts, to the effect that breeding pigs within the town was forbidden. custom, however, deep-rooted for centuries, resisted this order, and many others on the same subject which followed it: for we find, under francis i., a license was issued to the executioner, empowering him to capture all the stray pigs which he could find in paris, and to take them to the hôtel dieu, when he should receive either five sous in silver or the head of the animal. it is said that the holy men of st. antoine, in virtue of the privilege attached to the popular legend of their patron, who was generally represented with a pig, objected to this order, and long after maintained the exclusive right of allowing their pigs to roam in the streets of the capital. the obstinate determination with which every one tried to evade the administrative laws on this subject, is explained, in fact, by the general taste of the french nation for pork. this taste appears somewhat strange at a time when this kind of food was supposed to engender leprosy, a disease with which france was at that time overrun. [illustration: fig. .--stall of carved wood (fifteenth century), representing the proverb, "margaritas ante porcos," "throwing pearls before swine," from rouen cathedral.] pigs' meat made up generally the greater part of the domestic banquets. there was no great feast at which hams, sausages, and black puddings were not served in profusion on all the tables; and as easter day, which brought to a close the prolonged fastings of lent, was one of the great feasts, this food formed the most important dish on that occasion. it is possible that the necessity for providing for the consumption of that day originated the celebrated ham fair, which was and is still held annually on the thursday of passion week in front of notre-dame, where the dealers from all parts of france, and especially from normandy and lower brittany, assembled with their swine. sanitary measures were taken in paris and in the various towns in order to prevent the evil effects likely to arise from the enormous consumption of pork; public officers, called _languayeurs_, were ordered to examine the animals to ensure that they had not white ulcers under the tongue, these being considered the signs that their flesh was in a condition to communicate leprosy to those who partook of it. for a long time the retail sale of pork was confined to the butchers, like that of other meat. salt or fresh pork was at one time always sold raw, though at a later period some retailers, who carried on business principally among the lowest orders of the people, took to selling cooked pork and sausages. they were named _charcuitiers_ or _saucissiers_. this new trade, which was most lucrative, was adopted by so many people that parliament was forced to limit the number of _charcuitiers_, who at last formed a corporation, and received their statutes, which were confirmed by the king in . amongst the privileges attached to their calling was that of selling red herrings and sea-fish in lent, during which time the sale of pork was strictly forbidden. although they had the exclusive monopoly of selling cooked pork, they were at first forbidden to buy their meat of any one but of the butchers, who alone had the right of killing pigs; and it was only in that the _charcuitiers_ were allowed to purchase at market and sell the meat raw, in opposition to the butchers, who in consequence gradually gave up killing and selling pork (fig. ). although the consumption of butchers' meat was not so great in the middle ages as it is now, the trade of a butcher, to which extraordinary privileges were attached, was nevertheless one of the industries which realised the greatest profits. we know what an important part the butchers played in the municipal history of france, as also of belgium; and we also know how great their political influence was, especially in the fifteenth century. [illustration: fig. .--the pork-butcher (_charcutier_).--fac-simile of a miniature in a charter of the abbey of solignac (fourteenth century).] the existence of the great slaughter-house of paris dates back to the most remote period of monarchy. the parish church of the corporation of butchers, namely, that of st. pierre aux boeufs in the city, on the front of which were two sculptured oxen, existed before the tenth century. a celtic monument was discovered on the site of the ancient part of paris, with a bas-relief representing a wild bull carrying three cranes standing among oak branches. archæology has chosen to recognise in this sculpture a druidical allegory, which has descended to us in the shape of the triumphal car of the prize ox (fig. ). the butchers who, for centuries at least in france, only killed sheep and pigs, proved themselves most jealous of their privileges, and admitted no strangers into their corporation. the proprietorship of stalls at the markets, and the right of being admitted as a master butcher at the age of seven years and a day, belonged exclusively to the male descendants of a few rich and powerful families. the kings of france alone, on their accession, could create a new master butcher. since the middle of the fourteenth century the "grande boucherie" was the seat of an important jurisdiction, composed of a mayor, a master, a proctor, and an attorney; it also had a judicial council before which the butchers could bring up all their cases, and an appeal from which could only be considered by parliament. besides this court, which had to decide cases of misbehaviour on the part of the apprentices, and all their appeals against their masters, the corporation had a counsel in parliament, as also one at the châtelet, who were specially attached to the interests of the butchers, and were in their pay. [illustration: fig. .--the holy ox.--celtic monument found in paris under the choir of notre-dame in , and preserved in the musée de cluny et des thermes.] although bound, at all events with their money, to follow the calling of their fathers, we find many descendants of ancient butchers' families of paris, in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, abandoning their stalls to fill high places in the state, and even at court. it must not be concluded that the rich butchers in those days occupied themselves with the minor details of their trade; the greater number employed servants who cut up and retailed the meat, and they themselves simply kept the accounts, and were engaged in dealing through factors or foremen for the purchase of beasts for their stalls (fig. ). one can form an opinion of the wealth of some of these tradesmen by reading the enumeration made by an old chronicler of the property and income of guillaume de saint-yon, one of the principal master butchers in . "he was proprietor of three stalls, in which meat was weekly sold to the amount of _livres parisis_ (the livre being equivalent to francs at least), with an average profit of ten to fifteen per cent.; he had an income of _livres parisis_; he possessed besides his family house in paris, four country-houses, well supplied with furniture and agricultural implements, drinking-cups, vases, cups of silver, and cups of onyx with silver feet, valued at francs or more each. his wife had jewels, belts, purses, and trinkets, to the value of upwards of , gold francs (the gold franc was worth livres); long and short gowns trimmed with fur; and three mantles of grey fur. guillaume de saint-yon had generally in his storehouses ox-hides, worth francs each at least; measures of fat, worth - / sols each; in his sheds, he had sheep worth sols each; in his safes or silver florins of ready money (the florin was worth francs, which must be multiplied five times to estimate its value in present currency), and his household furniture was valued at , florins. he gave a dowry of , florins to his two nieces, and spent , florins in rebuilding his paris house; and lastly, as if he had been a noble, he used a silver seal." [illustration: fig. .--the butcher and his servant, drawn and engraved by j. amman (sixteenth century).] we find in the "ménagier de paris" curious statistics respecting the various butchers' shops of the capital, and the daily sale in each at the period referred to. this sale, without counting the households of the king, the queen, and the royal family, which were specially provisioned, amounted to , oxen, , sheep, , pigs, and , calves per annum; to which must be added not only the smoked and salted flesh of or pigs, which were sold at the fair in holy week, but also , sheep, oxen, calves, and pigs, which, according to the "ménagier," were used in the royal and princely households. sometimes the meat was sent to market already cut up, but the slaughter of beasts was more frequently done in the butchers' shops in the town; for they only killed from day to day, according to the demand. besides the butchers' there were tripe shops, where the feet, kidneys, &c., were sold. [illustration: figs. and .--seal and counter-seal of the butchers of bruges in , from an impression on green wax, preserved in the archives of that town.] according to bruyérin champier, during the sixteenth century the most celebrated sheep in france were those of berri and limousin; and of all butchers' meat, veal was reckoned the best. in fact, calves intended for the tables of the upper classes were fed in a special manner: they were allowed for six months, or even for a year, nothing but milk, which made their flesh most tender and delicate. contrary to the present taste, kid was more appreciated than lamb, which caused the _rôtisseurs_ frequently to attach the tail of a kid to a lamb, so as to deceive the customer and sell him a less expensive meat at the higher price. this was the origin of the proverb which described a cheat as "a dealer in goat by halves." in other places butchers were far from acquiring the same importance which they did in france and belgium (figs. and ), where much more meat was consumed than in spain, italy, or even in germany. nevertheless, in almost all countries there were certain regulations, sometimes eccentric, but almost always rigidly enforced, to ensure a supply of meat of the best quality and in a healthy state. in england, for instance, butchers were only allowed to kill bulls after they had been baited with dogs, no doubt with the view of making the flesh more tender. at mans, it was laid down in the trade regulations, that "no butcher shall be so bold as to sell meat unless it shall have been previously seen alive by two or three persons, who will testify to it on oath; and, anyhow, they shall not sell it until the persons shall have declared it wholesome," &c. to the many regulations affecting the interests of the public must be added that forbidding butchers to sell meat on days when abstinence from animal food was ordered by the church. these regulations applied less to the vendors than to the consumers, who, by disobeying them, were liable to fine or imprisonment, or to severe corporal punishment by the whip or in the pillory. we find that clément marot was imprisoned and nearly burned alive for having eaten pork in lent. in , guillaume des moulins, count of brie, asked permission for his mother, who was then eighty years of age, to cease fasting; the bishop of paris only granted dispensation on condition that the old lady should take her meals in secret and out of sight of every one, and should still fast on fridays. "in a certain town," says brantôme, "there had been a procession in lent. a woman, who had assisted at it barefooted, went home to dine off a quarter of lamb and a ham. the smell got into the street; the house was entered. the fact being established, the woman was taken, and condemned to walk through the town with her quarter of lamb on the spit over her shoulder, and the ham hung round her neck." this species of severity increased during the times of religious dissensions. erasmus says, "he who has eaten pork instead of fish is taken to the torture like a parricide." an edict of henry ii, , forbade the sale of meat in lent to persons who should not be furnished with a doctor's certificate. charles ix forbade the sale of meat to the huguenots; and it was ordered that the privilege of selling meat during the time of abstinence should belong exclusively to the hospitals. orders were given to those who retailed meat to take the address of every purchaser, although he had presented a medical certificate, so that the necessity for his eating meat might be verified. subsequently, the medical certificate required to be endorsed by the priest, specifying what quantity of meat was required. even in these cases the use of butchers' meat alone was granted, pork, poultry, and game being strictly forbidden. poultry.--a monk of the abbey of cluny once went on a visit to his relations. on arriving he asked for food; but as it was a fast day he was told there was nothing in the house but fish. perceiving some chickens in the yard, he took a stick and killed one, and brought it to his relations, saying, "this is the fish which i shall eat to-day." "eh, but, my son," they said, "have you dispensation from fasting on a friday?" "no," he answered; "but poultry is not flesh; fish and fowls were created at the same time; they have a common origin, as the hymn which i sing in the service teaches me." this simple legend belongs to the tenth century; and notwithstanding that the opinion of this benedictine monk may appear strange nowadays, yet it must be acknowledged that he was only conforming himself to the opinions laid down by certain theologians. in , the council of aix-la-chapelle decided that such delicate nourishment could scarcely be called mortification as understood by the teaching of the church. in consequence of this an order was issued forbidding the monks to eat poultry, except during four days at easter and four at christmas. but this prohibition in no way changed the established custom of certain parts of christendom, and the faithful persisted in believing that poultry and fish were identical in the eyes of the church, and accordingly continued to eat them indiscriminately. we also see, in the middle of the thirteenth century, st. thomas aquinas, who was considered an authority in questions of dogma and of faith, ranking poultry amongst species of aquatic origin. eventually, this palpable error was abandoned; but when the church forbade christians the use of poultry on fast days, it made an exception, out of consideration for the ancient prejudice, in favour of teal, widgeon, moor-hens, and also two or three kinds of small amphibious quadrupeds. hence probably arose the general and absurd beliefs concerning the origin of teal, which some said sprung from the rotten wood of old ships, others from the fruits of a tree, or the gum on fir-trees, whilst others thought they came from a fresh-water shell analogous to that of the oyster and mussel. as far back as modern history can be traced, we find that a similar mode of fattening poultry was employed then as now, and was one which the gauls must have learnt from the romans. amongst the charges in the households of the kings of france one item was that which concerned the poultry-house, and which, according to an edict of st. louis in , bears the name of _poulaillier_. at a subsequent period this name was given to breeders and dealers in poultry (fig. ). the "ménagier" tells as that, as is the present practice, chickens were fattened by depriving them of light and liberty, and gorging them with succulent food. amongst the poultry yards in repute at that time, the author mentions that of hesdin, a property of the dukes of luxemburg, in artois; that of the king, at the hôtel saint-pol, rue saint-antoine, paris; that of master hugues aubriot, provost of paris; and that of charlot, no doubt a bourgeois of that name, who also gave his name to an ancient street in that quarter called the marais. [illustration: fig. .--the poulterer, drawn and engraved in the sixteenth century, by j. amman.] _capons_ are frequently mentioned in poems of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries; but the name of the _poularde_ does not occur until the sixteenth. we know that under the roman rule, the gauls carried on a considerable trade in fattened geese. this trade ceased when gaul passed to new masters; but the breeding of geese continued to be carefully attended to. for many centuries geese were more highly prized than any other description of poultry, and charlemagne ordered that his domains should be well stocked with flocks of geese, which were driven to feed in the fields, like flocks of sheep. there was an old proverb, "who eats the king's goose returns the feathers in a hundred years." this bird was considered a great delicacy by the working classes and bourgeoisie. the _rôtisseurs_ (fig. ) had hardly anything in their shops but geese, and, therefore, when they were united in a company, they received the name of _oyers_, or _oyeurs_. the street in which they were established, with their spits always loaded with juicy roasts, was called rue des _oues_ (geese), and this street, when it ceased to be frequented by the _oyers_, became by corruption rue auxours. [illustration: fig. .--barnacle geese.--fac-simile of an engraving on wood, from the "cosmographie universelle" of munster, folio, basle, .] there is every reason for believing that the domestication of the wild duck is of quite recent date. the attempt having succeeded, it was wished to follow it up by the naturalisation in the poultry-yard of two other sorts of aquatic birds, namely, the sheldrake (_tadorna_) and the moorhen, but without success. some attribute the introduction of turkeys into france and europe to jacques coeur, treasurer to charles vii., whose commercial connections with the east were very extensive; others assert that it is due to king rené, count of provence; but according to the best authorities these birds were first brought into france in the time of francis i. by admiral philippe de chabot, and bruyérin champier asserts that they were not known until even later. it was at about the same period that guinea-fowls were brought from the coast of africa by portuguese merchants; and the travelling naturalist, pierre belon, who wrote in the year , asserts that in his time "they had already so multiplied in the houses of the nobles that they had become quite common." [illustration: fig. .--the poultry-dealer.--fac-simile of an engraving on wood, after cesare vecellio.] the pea-fowl played an important part in the chivalric banquets of the middle ages (fig. ). according to old poets the flesh of this noble bird is "food for the brave." a poet of the thirteenth century says, "that thieves have as much taste for falsehood as a hungry man has for the flesh of the peacock." in the fourteenth century poultry-yards were still stocked with these birds; but the turkey and the pheasant gradually replaced them, as their flesh was considered somewhat hard and stringy. this is proved by the fact that in , "la nouvelle coutume du bourbonnois" only reckons the value of these beautiful birds at two sous and a half, or about three francs of present currency. [illustration: fig. .--state banquet.--serving the peacock.--fac-simile of a woodcut in an edition of virgil, folio, published at lyons in .] game.--our forefathers included among the birds which now constitute feathered game the heron, the crane, the crow, the swan, the stork, the cormorant, and the bittern. these supplied the best tables, especially the first three, which were looked upon as exquisite food, fit even for royalty, and were reckoned as thorough french delicacies. there were at that time heronries, as at a later period there were pheasantries. people also ate birds of prey, and only rejected those which fed on carrion. swans, which were much appreciated, were very common on all the principal rivers of france, especially in the north; a small island below paris had taken its name from these birds, and has maintained it ever since. it was proverbially said that the charente was bordered with swans, and for this same reason valenciennes was called _val des cygnes_, or the swan valley. some authors make it appear that for a long time young game was avoided owing to the little nourishment it contained and its indigestibility, and assert that it was only when some french ambassadors returned from venice that the french learnt that young partridges and leverets were exquisite, and quite fit to appear at the most sumptuous banquets. the "ménagier" gives not only various receipts for cooking them, but also for dressing chickens, when game was out of season, so as to make them taste like young partridges. there was a time when they fattened pheasants as they did capons; it was a secret, says liébault, only known to the poultry dealers; but although they were much appreciated, the pullet was more so, and realised as much as two crowns each (this does not mean the gold crown, but a current coin worth three livres). plovers, which sometimes came from beauce in cart-loads, were much relished; they were roasted without being drawn, as also were turtle-doves and larks; "for," says an ancient author, "larks only eat small pebbles and sand, doves grains of juniper and scented herbs, and plovers feed on air." at a later period the same honour was conferred on woodcocks. thrushes, starlings, blackbirds, quail, and partridges were in equal repute according to the season. the _bec-figue_, a small bird like a nightingale, was so much esteemed in provence that there were feasts at which that bird alone was served, prepared in various ways; but of all birds used for the table none could be compared to the young cuckoo taken just as it was full fledged. as far as we can ascertain, the gauls had a dislike to the flesh of rabbits, and they did not even hunt them, for according to strabo, southern gaul was infested with these mischievous animals, which destroyed the growing crops, and even the barks of the trees. there was considerable change in this respect a few centuries later, for every one in town or country reared domesticated rabbits, and the wild ones formed an article of food which was much in request. in order to ascertain whether a rabbit is young, strabo tells us we should feel the first joint of the fore-leg, when we shall find a small bone free and movable. this method is adopted in all kitchens in the present day. hares were preferred to rabbits, provided they were young; for an old french proverb says, "an old hare and an old goose are food for the devil." [illustration: fig. .--"the way to skin and cut up a stag."--fac-simile of a miniature of "phoebus, and his staff for hunting wild animals" (manuscript of the fifteenth century, national library of paris).] the hedgehog and squirrel were also eaten. as for roe and red deer, they were, according to dr. bruyérin ohampier, morsels fit for kings and rich people (fig. ). the doctor speaks of "fried slices of the young horn of the stag" as the daintiest of food, and the "ménagier de paris" shows how, as early as the fourteenth century, beef was dished up like bear's-flesh venison, for the use of kitchens in countries where the black bear did not exist. this proves that bear's flesh was in those days considered good food. milk, butter, eggs, and cheese.--these articles of food, the first which nature gave to man, were not always and everywhere uniformly permitted or prohibited by the church on fast days. the faithful were for several centuries left to their own judgment on the subject. in fact, there is nothing extraordinary in eggs being eaten in lent without scruple, considering that some theologians maintained that the hens which laid them were animals of aquatic extraction. it appears, however, that butter, either from prejudice or mere custom, was only used on fast days in its fresh state, and was not allowed to be used for cooking purposes. at first, and especially amongst the monks, the dishes were prepared with oil; but as in some countries oil was apt to become very expensive, and the supply even to fail totally, animal fat or lard had to be substituted. at a subsequent period the church authorised the use of butter and milk; but on this point, the discipline varied much. in the fourteenth century, charles v., king of france, having asked pope gregory xi. for a dispensation to use milk and butter on fast days, in consequence of the bad state of his health, brought on owing to an attempt having been made to poison him, the supreme pontiff required a certificate from a physician and from the king's confessor. he even then only granted the dispensation after imposing on that christian king the repetition of a certain number of prayers and the performance of certain pious deeds. in defiance of the severity of ecclesiastical authority, we find, in the "journal of a bourgeois of paris," that in the unhappy reign of charles vi. ( ), "for want of oil, butter was eaten in lent the same as on ordinary non-fast days." in , queen anne, duchess of brittany, in order to obtain permission from the pope to eat butter in lent, represented that brittany did not produce oil, neither did it import it from southern countries. many northern provinces adopted necessity as the law, and, having no oil, used butter; and thence originated that famous toast with slices of bread and butter, which formed such an important part of flemish food. these papal dispensations were, however, only earned at the price of prayers and alms, and this was the origin of the _troncs pour le beurre_, that is, "alms-box for butter," which are still to be seen in some of the flemish churches. [illustration: fig. .--the manufacture of oil, drawn and engraved by j. amman in the sixteenth century.] it is not known when butter was first salted in order to preserve it or to send it to distant places; but this process, which is so simple and so natural, dates, no doubt, from very ancient times; it was particularly practised by the normans and bretons, who enclosed the butter in large earthenware jars, for in the statutes which were given to the fruiterers of paris in , mention is made of salt butter in earthenware jars. lorraine only exported butter in such jars. the fresh butter most in request for the table in paris, was that made at vanvres, which in the month of may the people ate every morning mixed with garlic. the consumption of butter was greatest in flanders. "i am surprised," says bruyérin champier, speaking of that country, "that they have not yet tried to turn it into drink; in france it is mockingly called _beurrière;_ and when any one has to travel in that country, he is advised to take a knife with him if he wishes to taste the good rolls of butter." [illustration: fig. .--a dealer in eggs.--fac-simile of a woodcut, after cesare vecellio, sixteenth century.] it is not necessary to state that milk and cheese followed the fortunes of butter in the catholic world, the same as eggs followed those of poultry. but butter having been declared lawful by the church, a claim was put in for eggs (fig. ), and pope julius iii. granted this dispensation to all christendom, although certain private churches did not at once choose to profit by this favour. the greeks had always been more rigid on these points of discipline than the people of the west. it is to the prohibition of eggs in lent that the origin of "easter eggs" must be traced. these were hardened by boiling them in a madder bath, and were brought to receive the blessing of the priest on good friday, and were then eaten on the following sunday as a sign of rejoicing. ancient gaul was celebrated for some of its home-made cheeses. pliny praises those of nismes, and of mount lozère, in gévaudau; martial mentions those of toulouse, &c. a simple anecdote, handed down by the monk of st. gall, who wrote in the ninth century, proves to us that the traditions with regard to cheeses were not lost in the time of charlemagne: "the emperor, in one of his travels, alighted suddenly, and without being expected, at the house of a bishop. it was on a friday. the prelate had no fish, and did not dare to set meat before the prince. he therefore offered him what he had got, some boiled corn and green cheese. charles ate of the cheese; but taking the green part to be bad, he took care to remove it with his knife. the bishop, seeing this, took the liberty of telling his guest that this was the best part. the emperor, tasting it, found that the bishop was right; and consequently ordered him to send him annually two cases of similar cheese to aix-la-chapelle. the bishop answered, that he could easily send cheeses, but he could not be sure of sending them in proper condition, because it was only by opening them that you could be sure of the dealer not having deceived you in the quality of the cheese. 'well,' said the emperor, 'before sending them, cut them through the middle, so as to see if they are what i want; you will only have to join the two halves again by means of a wooden peg, and you can then put the whole into a case.'" under the kings of the third french dynasty, a cheese was made at the village of chaillot, near paris, which was much appreciated in the capital. in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, the cheeses of champagne and of brie, which are still manufactured, were equally popular, and were hawked in the streets, according to the "book of street-cries in paris,"-- "j'ai bon fromage de champaigne; or i a fromage de brie!" ("buy my cheese from champagne, and my cheese from brie!") eustache deschamps went so far as to say that cheese was the only good thing which could possibly come from brie. the "ménagier de paris" praises several kinds of cheeses, the names of which it would now be difficult to trace, owing to their frequent changes during four hundred years; but, according to the gallic author of this collection, a cheese to be presentable at table, was required to possess certain qualities (in proverbial latin, "non argus, nee helena, nee maria magdalena," &c.), thus expressed in french rhyme:-- "non mie (pas) blanc comme hélaine, non mie (pas) plourant comme magdelaine, non argus (à cent yeux), mais du tout avugle (aveugle) et aussi pesant comme un bugle (boeuf), contre le pouce soit rebelle, et qu'il ait ligneuse cotelle (épaisse croûte) sans yeux, sans plourer, non pas blanc, tigneulx, rebelle, bien pesant." ("neither-white like helena, nor weeping as magdelena, neither argus, nor yet quite blind, and having too a thickish rind, resisting somewhat to the touch, and as a bull should weigh as much; not eyeless, weeping, nor quite white, but firm, resisting, not too light.") in , platina, although an italian, in speaking of good cheeses, mentions those of chauny, in picardy, and of brehemont, in touraine; charles estienne praises those of craponne, in auvergne, the _angelots_ of normandy, and the cheeses made from fresh cream which the peasant-women of montreuil and vincennes brought to paris in small wickerwork baskets, and which were eaten sprinkled with sugar. the same author names also the _rougerets_ of lyons, which were always much esteemed; but, above all the cheeses of europe, he places the round or cylindrical ones of auvergne, which were only made by very clean and healthy children of fourteen years of age. olivier de serres advises those who wish to have good cheeses to boil the milk before churning it, a plan which is in use at lodi and parma, "where cheeses are made which are acknowledged by all the world to be excellent." the parmesan, which this celebrated agriculturist cites as an example, only became the fashion in france on the return of charles viii. from his expedition to naples. much was thought at that time of a cheese brought from turkey in bladders, and of different varieties produced in holland and zetland. a few of these foreign products were eaten in stews and in pastry, others were toasted and sprinkled with sugar and powdered cinnamon. "le roman de claris," a manuscript which belongs to the commencement of the fourteenth century, says that in a town winch was taken by storm the following stores were found:--: "maint bon tonnel de vin, maint bon bacon (cochon), maint fromage à rostir." ("many a ton of wine, many a slice of good bacon, plenty of good roasted cheese.") [illustration: table service of a lady of quality fac-simile of a miniature from the romance of renaud de montauban, a ms. of fifteenth century bibl. de l'arsenal] [illustration: ladies hunting costumes of the fifteenth century. from a miniature in a ms. copy of _ovid's epistles_. no _bis._ bibl. nat'le de paris.] besides cheese and butter, the normans, who had a great many cows in their rich pastures, made a sort of fermenting liquor from the butter-milk, which they called _serat_, by boiling the milk with onions and garlic, and letting it cool in closed vessels. [illustration: fig. .--manufacture of cheeses in switzerland.--fac-simile of a woodcut in the "cosmographie universelle" of munster, folio, basle, .] if the author of the "ménagier" is to be believed, the women who sold milk by retail in the towns were well acquainted with the method of increasing its quantity at the expense of its quality. he describes how his _froumentée_, which consists of a sort of soup, is made, and states that when he sends his cook to make her purchases at the milk market held in the neighbourhood of the rues de la savonnerie, des ecrivains, and de la vieille-monnaie, he enjoins her particularly "to get very fresh cow's milk, and to tell the person who sells it not to do so if she has put water to it; for, unless it be quite fresh, or if there be water in it, it will turn." fish and shellfish.--freshwater fish, which was much more abundant in former days than now, was the ordinary food of those who lived on the borders of lakes, ponds, or rivers, or who, at all events, were not so far distant but that they could procure it fresh. there was of course much diversity at different periods and in different countries as regards the estimation in which the various kinds of fish were held. thus ausone, who was a native of bordeaux, spoke highly of the delicacy of the perch, and asserted that shad, pike, and tench should be left to the lower orders; an opinion which was subsequently contradicted by the inhabitants of other parts of gaul, and even by the countrymen of the latin poet gregory of tours, who loudly praised the geneva trout. but a time arrived when the higher classes preferred the freshwater fish of orchies in flanders, and even those of the lyonnais. thus we see in the thirteenth century the barbel of saint-florentin held in great estimation, whereas two hundred years later a man who was of no use, or a nonentity, was said to resemble a barbel, "which is neither good for roasting nor boiling." [illustration: fig. .--the pond fisherman.--fac-simile of a woodcut of the "cosmographie universelle" of munster, folio, basle, .] in a collection of vulgar proverbs of the twelfth century mention is made, amongst the fish most in demand, besides the barbel of saint-florentin above referred to, of the eels of maine, the pike of chalons, the lampreys of nantes, the trout of andeli, and the dace of aise. the "ménagier" adds several others to the above list, including blay, shad, roach, and gudgeon, but, above all, the carp, which was supposed to be a native of southern europe, and which must have been naturalised at a much later period in the northern waters (figs. , , and ). [illustration: fig. .--the river fisherman, designed and engraved, in the sixteenth century, by j. amman.] [illustration: fig. .--conveyance of fish by water and land.--fac-simile of an engraving in the royal statutes of the provostship of merchants, .] the most ancient documents bear witness that the natives of the sea-coasts of europe, and particularly of the mediterranean, fed on the same fish as at present: there were, however, a few other sea-fish, which were also used for food, but which have since been abandoned. our ancestors were, not difficult to please: they had good teeth, and their palates, having become accustomed to the flesh of the cormorant, heron, and crane, without difficulty appreciated the delicacy of the nauseous sea-dog, the porpoise, and even the whale, which, when salted, furnished to a great extent all the markets of europe. the trade in salted sea-fish only began in paris in the twelfth century, when a company of merchants was instituted, or rather re-established, on the principle of the ancient association of nantes. this association had existed from the period of the foundation under the gauls of lutetia, the city of fluvial commerce (fig. ), and it is mentioned in the letters patent of louis vii. ( ). one of the first cargoes which this company brought in its boats was that of salted herrings from the coast of normandy. these herrings became a necessary food during lent, and "sor et blanc harene frès pouldré (couvert de sel)!" ("herrings smoked, fresh, and salted!") was the cry of the retailers in the streets of paris, where this fish became a permanent article of consumption to an extent which can be appreciated from the fact that saint louis gave annually nearly seventy thousand herrings to the hospitals, plague-houses, and monasteries. [illustration: fig. .--a votive altar of the nantes parisiens, or the company for the commercial navigation of the seine, erected in lutelia during the reign of tiberius.--fragments of this altar, which were discovered in under the choir of the church of notre-dame, are preserved in the museums of cluny and the palais des thermes.] the profit derived from the sale of herrings at that time was so great that it soon became a special trade; it was, in fact, the regular practice of the middle ages for persons engaged in any branch of industry to unite together and form themselves into a corporation. other speculators conceived the idea of bringing fresh fish to paris by means of relays of posting conveyances placed along the road, and they called themselves _forains_. laws were made to distinguish the rights of each of these trades, and to prevent any quarrel in the competition. in these laws, all sea-fish were comprised under three names, the fresh, the salted, and the smoked (_sor_). louis ix. in an edict divides the dealers into two classes, namely, the sellers of fresh fish, and the sellers of salt or smoked fish. besides salt and fresh herrings, an enormous amount of salted mackerel, which was almost as much used, was brought from the sea-coast, in addition to flat-fish, gurnets, skate, fresh and salted whiting and codfish. in an old document of the thirteenth century about fifty kinds of fish are enumerated which were retailed in the markets of the kingdom; and a century later the "ménagier" gives receipts for cooking forty kinds, amongst which appears, under the name of _craspois_, the salted flesh of the whale, which was also called _le lard de carême_. this coarse food, which was sent from the northern seas in enormous slices, was only eaten by the lower orders, for, according to a writer of the sixteenth century, "were it cooked even for twenty-four hours it would still be very hard and indigestible." the "proverbes" of the thirteenth century, which mention the freshwater fish then in vogue, also names the sea-fish most preferred, and whence they came, namely, the shad from bordeaux, the congers from la rochelle, the sturgeon from blaye, the fresh herrings from fécamp, and the cuttle-fish from coutances. at a later period the conger was not eaten from its being supposed to produce the plague. the turbot, john-dory, skate and sole, which were very dear, were reserved for the rich. the fishermen fed on the sea-dragon. a great quantity of the small sea crayfish were brought into market; and in certain countries these were called _santé_, because the doctors recommended them to invalids or those in consumption; on the other hand, freshwater crayfish were not much esteemed in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, excepting for their eggs, which were prepared with spice. it is well known that pond frogs were a favourite food of the gauls and franks; they were never out of fashion in the rural districts, and were served at the best tables, dressed with green sauce; at the same period, and especially during lent, snails, which were served in pyramid-shaped dishes, were much appreciated; so much so that nobles and bourgeois cultivated snail beds, somewhat resembling our oyster beds of the present day. the inhabitants of the coast at all periods ate various kinds of shell-fish, which were called in italy sea-fruit; but it was only towards the twelfth century that the idea was entertained of bringing oysters to paris, and mussels were not known there until much later. it is notorious that henry iv. was a great oyster-eater. sully relates that when he was created a duke "the king came, without being expected, to take his seat at the reception banquet, but as there was much delay in going to dinner, he began by eating some _huîtres de chasse_, which he found very fresh." by _huîtres de chasse_ were meant those oysters which were brought by the _chasse-marées_, carriers who brought the fresh fish from the coast to paris at great speed. beverages.--beer is not only one of the oldest fermenting beverages used by man, but it is also the one which was most in vogue in the middle ages. if we refer to the tales of the greek historians, we find that the gauls--who, like the egyptians, attributed the discovery of this refreshing drink to their god osiris--had two sorts of beer: one called _zythus_, made with honey and intended for the rich; the other called _corma_, in which there was no honey, and which was made for the poor. but pliny asserts that beer in gallie was called _cerevisia_, and the grain employed for making it _brasce_. this testimony seems true, as from _brasce_ or _brasse_ comes the name _brasseur_ (brewer), and from _cerevisia, cervoise_, the generic name by which beer was known for centuries, and which only lately fell into disuse. [illustration: fig. .--the great drinkers of the north.--fac-simile of a woodcut of the "histoires des pays septentrionaux," by olaus magnus, mo., antwerp, .] after a great famine, domitian ordered all the vines in gaul to be uprooted so as to make room for corn. this rigorous measure must have caused beer to become even more general, and, although two centuries later probus allowed vines to be replanted, the use of beverages made from grain became an established custom; but in time, whilst the people still only drank _cervoise_, those who were able to afford it bought wine and drank it alternately with beer. however, as by degrees the vineyards increased in all places having a suitable soil and climate, the use of beer was almost entirely given up, so that in central gaul wine became so common and cheap that all could drink it. in the northern provinces, where the vine would not grow, beer naturally continued to be the national beverage (fig. ). in the time of charlemagne, for instance, we find the emperor wisely ordered that persons knowing how to brew should be attached to each of his farms. everywhere the monastic houses possessed breweries; but as early as the reign of st. louis there were only a very few breweries in paris itself, and, in spite of all the privileges granted to their corporation, even these were soon obliged to leave the capital, where there ceased to be any demand for the produce of their industry. they reappeared in , probably in consequence of the political and commercial relations which had become established between paris and the rich towns of the flemish bourgeoisie; and then, either on account of the dearness of wine, or the caprice of fashion, the consumption of beer again became so general in france that, according to the "journal d'un bourgeois de paris," it produced to the revenue two-thirds more than wine. it must be understood, however, that in times of scarcity, as in the years and , brewing was temporarily stopped, and even forbidden altogether, on account of the quantity of grain which was thereby withdrawn from the food supply of the people (fig. ). [illustration: fig. .--the brewer, designed and engraved, in the sixteenth. century, by j. amman.] under the romans, the real _cervoise_, or beer, was made with barley; but, at a later period, all sorts of grain was indiscriminately used; and it was only towards the end of the sixteenth century that adding the flower or seed of hops to the oats or barley, which formed the basis of this beverage, was thought of. estienne boileau's "book of trades," edited in the thirteenth century, shows us that, besides the _cervoise_, another sort of beer was known, which was called _godale_. this name, we should imagine, was derived from the two german words _god ael_, which mean "good beer," and was of a stronger description than the ordinary _cervoise_; this idea is proved by the picards and flemish people calling it "double beer." in any case, it is from the word _godale_ that the familiar expression of _godailler_ (to tipple) is derived. in fact, there is hardly any sort of mixture or ingredient which has not been used in the making of beer, according to the fashions of the different periods. when, on the return from the crusades, the use of spice had become the fashion, beverages as well as the food were loaded with it. allspice, juniper, resin, apples, bread-crumbs, sage, lavender, gentian, cinnamon, and laurel were each thrown into it. the english sugared it, and the germans salted it, and at times they even went so far as to put darnel into it, at the risk of rendering the mixture poisonous. the object of these various mixtures was naturally to obtain high-flavoured beers, which became so much in fashion, that to describe the want of merit of persons, or the lack of value in anything, no simile was more common than to compare them to "small beer." nevertheless, more delicate and less blunted palates were to be found which could appreciate beer sweetened simply with honey, or scented with ambergris or raspberries. it is possible, however, that these compositions refer to mixtures in which beer, the produce of fermented grain, was confounded with hydromel, or fermented honey. both these primitive drinks claim an origin equally remote, which is buried in the most distant periods of history, and they have been used in all parts of the world, being mentioned in the oldest historical records, in the bible, the edda, and in the sacred books of india. in the thirteenth century, hydromel, which then bore the name of _borgérafre, borgéraste_, or _bochet_, was composed of one part of honey to twelve parts of water, scented with herbs, and allowed to ferment for a month or six weeks. this beverage, which in the customs and statutes of the order of cluny is termed _potus dulcissimus_ (the sweetest beverage), and which must have been both agreeable in taste and smell, was specially appreciated by the monks, who feasted on it on the great anniversaries of the church. besides this, an inferior quality of _bochet_ was made for the consumption of the lower orders and peasants, out of the honeycomb after the honey had been drained away, or with the scum which rose during the fermentation of the better qualities. [illustration: fig. .--the vintagers, after a miniature of the "dialogues de saint gregoire" (thirteenth century).--manuscript of the royal library of brussels.] cider (in latin _sicera_) and perry can also both claim a very ancient origin, since they are mentioned by pliny. it does not appear, however, that the gauls were acquainted with them. the first historical mention of them is made with reference to a repast which thierry ii., king of burgundy and orleans ( - ), son of childebert, and grandson of queen brunehaut, gave to st. colomban, in which both cider and wine were used. in the thirteenth century, a latin poet (guillaume le breton) says that the inhabitants of the auge and of normandy made cider their daily drink; but it is not likely that this beverage was sent away from the localities where it was made; for, besides the fact that the "ménagier" only very curtly mentions a drink made of apples, we know that in the fifteenth century the parisians were satisfied with pouring water on apples, and steeping them, so as to extract a sort of half-sour, half-sweet drink called _dépense_. besides this, paulmier de grandmesnil, a norman by birth, a famous doctor, and the author of a latin treatise on wine and cider ( ), asserts that half a century before, cider was very scarce at rouen, and that in all the districts of caux the people only drank beer. duperron adds that the normans brought cider from biscay, when their crops of apples failed. by whom and at what period the vine was naturalised in gaul has been a long-disputed question, which, in spite of the most careful research, remains unsolved. the most plausible opinion is that which attributes the honour of having imported the vine to the phoenician colony who founded marseilles. pliny makes mention of several wines of the gauls as being highly esteemed. he nevertheless reproaches the vine-growers of marseilles, beziers, and narbonne with doctoring their wines, and with infusing various drugs into them, which rendered them disagreeable and even unwholesome (fig. ). dioscorides, however, approved of the custom in use among the allobroges, of mixing resin with their wines to preserve them and prevent them from turning sour, as the temperature of their country was not warm enough thoroughly to ripen the grape. rooted up by order of domitian in , as stated above, the vine only reappeared in gaul under protus, who revoked, in , the imperial edict of his predecessor; after which period the gallic wines soon recovered their ancient celebrity. under the dominion of the franks, who held wine in great favour, vineyard property was one of those which the barbaric laws protected with the greatest care. we find in the code of the salians and in that of the visigoths very severe penalties for uprooting a vine or stealing a bunch of grapes. the cultivation of the vine became general, and kings themselves planted them, even in the gardens of their city palaces. in , there was still in paris, near the louvre, a vineyard of such an extent, that louis vii. could annually present six hogsheads of wine made from it to the rector of st. nicholas. philip augustus possessed about twenty vineyards of excellent quality in various parts of his kingdom. the culture of the vine having thus developed, the wine trade acquired an enormous importance in france. gascony, aunis, and saintonge sent their wines to flanders; guyenne sent hers to england. froissart writes that, in , a merchant fleet of quite two hundred sail came from london to bordeaux for wine. this flourishing trade received a severe blow in the sixteenth century; for an awful famine having invaded france in , charles ix. did not hesitate to repeat the acts of domitian, and to order all the vines to be uprooted and their place to be sown with corn; fortunately henry iii. soon after modified this edict by simply recommending the governors of the provinces to see that "the ploughs were not being neglected in their districts on account of the excessive cultivation of the vine." [illustration: fig. .--interior of an hostelry.--fac-simile of a woodcut in a folio edition of virgil, published at lyons in .] although the trade of a wine-merchant is one of the oldest established in paris, it does not follow that the retail sale of wine was exclusively carried on by special tradesmen. on the contrary, for a long time the owner of the vineyard retailed the wine which he had not been able to sell in the cask. a broom, a laurel-wreath, or some other sign of the sort hung over a door, denoted that any one passing could purchase or drink wine within. when the wine-growers did not have the quality and price of their wine announced in the village or town by the public crier, they placed a man before the door of their cellar, who enticed the public to enter and taste the new wines. other proprietors, instead of selling for people to take away in their own vessels, established a tavern in some room of their house, where they retailed drink (fig. ). the monks, who made wine extensively, also opened these taverns in the monasteries, as they only consumed part of their wine themselves; and this system was universally adopted by wine-growers, and even by the king and the nobles. the latter, however, had this advantage, that, whilst they were retailing their wines, no one in the district was allowed to enter into competition with them. this prescriptive right, which was called _droit de ban-vin_, was still in force in the seventeenth century. saint louis granted special statutes to the wine-merchants in ; but it was only three centuries later that they formed a society, which was divided into four classes, namely, hotel-keepers, publichouse-keepers, tavern proprietors, and dealers in wine _à pot_, that is, sold to people to take away with them. hotel-keepers, also called _aubergistes_, accommodated travellers, and also put up horses and carriages. the dealers _à pot_ sold wine which could not be drunk on their premises. there was generally a sort of window in their door through which the empty pot was passed, to be returned filled: hence the expression, still in use in the eighteenth century, _vente a huis coupé_ (sale through a cut door). publichouse-keepers supplied drink as well as _nappe et assiette_ (tablecloth and plate), which meant that refreshments were also served. and lastly, the _taverniers_ sold wine to be drunk on the premises, but without the right of supplying bread or meat to their customers (figs and ). [illustration: fig. .--banner of the corporation of the publichouse-keepers of montmedy.] [illustration: fig. .--banner of the corporation of the publichouse-keepers of tonnerre.] the wines of france in most request from the ninth to the thirteenth centuries were those of mâcon, cahors, rheims, choisy, montargis, marne, meulan, and orléanais. amongst the latter there was one which was much appreciated by henry i., and of which he kept a store, to stimulate his courage when he joined his army. the little fable of the battle of wines, composed in the thirteenth century by henri d'andelys, mentions a number of wines which have to this day maintained their reputation: for instance, the beaune, in burgundy; the saint-emilion, in gruyenne; the chablis, epernay, sézanne, in champagne, &c. but he places above all, with good reason, according to the taste of those days, the saint-pourçain of auvergne, which was then most expensive and in great request. another french poet, in describing the luxurious habits of a young man of fashion, says that he drank nothing but saint-pourçain; and in a poem composed by jean bruyant, secretary of the châtelet of paris, in , we find "du saint-pourçain que l'on met en son sein pour sain." ("saint-pourçain wine, which you imbibe for the good of your health.") [illustration: fig. .--banner of the coopers of bayonne.] [illustration: fig. .--banner of the coopers of la rochelle.] towards , the vineyards of aï became celebrated for champagne as those of beaune were for burgundy; and it is then that we find, according to the testimony of the learned paulmier de grandmesnil, kings and queens making champagne their favourite beverage. tradition has it that francis i., charles quint, henry viii., and pope leon x. all possessed vineyards in champagne at the same time. burgundy, that pure and pleasant wine, was not despised, and it was in its honour that erasmus said, "happy province! she may well call herself the mother of men, since she produces such milk." nevertheless, the above-mentioned physician, paulmier, preferred to burgundy, "if not perhaps for their flavour, yet for their wholesomeness, the vines of the _ile de france_ or _vins français_, which agree, he says, with scholars, invalids, the bourgeois, and all other persons who do not devote themselves to manual labour; for they do not parch the blood, like the wines of gascony, nor fly to the head like those of orleans and château-thierry; nor do they cause obstructions like those of bordeaux." this is also the opinion of baccius, who in his latin treatise on the natural history of wines ( ) asserts that the wines of paris "are in no way inferior to those of any other district of the kingdom." these thin and sour wines, so much esteemed in the first periods of monarchy and so long abandoned, first lost favour in the reign of francis i., who preferred the strong and stimulating productions of the south. notwithstanding the great number of excellent wines made in their own country, the french imported from other lands. in the thirteenth century, in the "battle of wines" we find those of aquila, spain, and, above all, those of cyprus, spoken of in high terms. a century later, eustace deschamps praised the rhine wines, and those of greece, malmsey, and grenache. in an edict of charles vi. mention is also made of the muscatel, rosette, and the wine of lieppe. generally, the malmsey which was drunk in france was an artificial preparation, which had neither the colour nor taste of the cyprian wine. olivier de serres tells us that in his time it was made with water, honey, clary juice, beer grounds, and brandy. at first the same name was used for the natural wine, mulled and spiced, which was produced in the island of madeira from the grapes which the portuguese brought there from cyprus in . the reputation which this wine acquired in europe induced francis i. to import some vines from greece, and he planted fifty acres with them near fontainebleau. it was at first considered that this plant was succeeding so well, that "there were hopes," says olivier de serres, "that france would soon be able to furnish her own malmsey and greek wines, instead of having to import them from abroad." it is evident, however, that they soon gave up this delusion, and that for want of the genuine wine they returned to artificial beverages, such as _vin cuit_, or cooked wine, which had at all times been cleverly prepared by boiling down new wine and adding various aromatic herbs to it. many wines were made under the name of _herbés_, which were merely infusions of wormwood, myrtle, hyssop, rosemary, &c., mixed with sweetened wine and flavoured with honey. the most celebrated of these beverages bore the pretentious name of "nectar;" those composed of spices, asiatic aromatics, and honey, were generally called "white wine," a name indiscriminately applied to liquors having for their bases some slightly coloured wine, as well as to the hypocras, which was often composed of a mixture of foreign liqueurs. this hypocras plays a prominent part in the romances of chivalry, and was considered a drink of honour, being always offered to kings, princes, and nobles on their solemn entry into a town. [illustration: fig. .--butler at his duties.--fac-simile from a woodcut in the "cosmographie universelle," of munster, folio, basle, .] the name of wine was also given to drinks composed of the juices of certain fruits, and in which grapes were in no way used. these were the cherry, the currant, the raspberry, and the pomegranate wines; also the _moré_, made with the mulberry, which was so extolled by the poets of the thirteenth century. we must also mention the sour wines, which were made by pouring water on the refuse grapes after the wine had been extracted; also the drinks made from filberts, milk of almonds, the syrups of apricots and strawberries, and cherry and raspberry waters, all of which were refreshing, and were principally used in summer; and, lastly, _tisane_, sold by the confectioners of paris, and made hot or cold, with prepared barley, dried grapes, plums, dates, gum, or liquorice. this _tisane_ may be considered as the origin of that drink which is now sold to the poor at a sous a glass, and which most assuredly has not much improved since olden times. it was about the thirteenth century that brandy first became known in france; but it does not appear that it was recognised as a liqueur before the sixteenth. the celebrated physician arnauld de villeneuve, who wrote at the end of the thirteenth century, to whom credit has wrongly been given for inventing brandy, employed it as one of his remedies, and thus expresses himself about it: "who would have believed that we could have derived from wine a liquor which neither resembles it in nature, colour, or effect?.... this _eau de vin_ is called by some _eau de vie_, and justly so, since it prolongs life.... it prolongs health, dissipates superfluous matters, revives the spirits, and preserves youth. alone, or added to some other proper remedy, it cures colic, dropsy, paralysis, ague, gravel, &c." at a period when so many doctors, alchemists, and other learned men made it their principal occupation to try to discover that marvellous golden fluid which was to free the human race of all its original infirmities, the discovery of such an elixir could not fail to attract the attention of all such manufacturers of panaceas. it was, therefore, under the name of _eau d'or_ (_aqua auri_) that brandy first became known to the world; a name improperly given to it, implying as it did that it was of mineral origin, whereas its beautiful golden colour was caused by the addition of spices. at a later period, when it lost its repute as a medicine, they actually sprinkled it with pure gold leaves, and at the same time that it ceased to be exclusively considered as a remedy, it became a favourite beverage. it was also employed in distilleries, especially as the basis of various strengthening and exciting liqueurs, most of which have descended to us, some coming from monasteries and others from châteaux, where they had been manufactured. the kitchen. soups, broths, and stews, &c.--the french word _potage_ must originally have signified a soup composed of vegetables and herbs from the kitchen garden, but from the remotest times it was applied to soups in general. as the gauls, according to athenæus, generally ate their meat boiled, we must presume that they made soup with the water in which it was cooked. it is related that one day gregory of tours was sitting at the table of king chilpéric, when the latter offered him a soup specially made in his honour from chicken. the poems of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries mention soups made of peas, of bacon, of vegetables, and of groats. in the southern provinces there were soups made of almonds, and of olive oil. when du gueselin went out to fight the english knight william of blancbourg in single combat, he first ate three sorts of soup made with wine, "in honour of the three persons in the holy trinity." [illustration: fig. .--interior of a kitchen of the sixteenth century.--fac-simile from a woodcut in the "calendarium romanum" of jean staéffler, folio, tubingen, .] we find in the "ménagier," amongst a long list of the common soups the receipts for which are given, soup made of "dried peas and the water in which bacon has been boiled," and, in lent, "salted-whale water;" watercress soup, cabbage soup, cheese soup, and _gramose_ soup, which was prepared by adding stewed meat to the water in which meat had already been boiled, and adding beaten eggs and verjuice; and, lastly, the _souppe despourvue_, which was rapidly made at the hotels, for unexpected travellers, and was a sort of soup made from the odds and ends of the larder. in those days there is no doubt but that hot soup formed an indispensable part of the daily meals, and that each person took it at least twice a day, according to the old proverb:-- "soupe la soir, soupe le matin, c'est l'ordinaire du bon chrétien." ("soup in the evening, and soup in the morning, is the everyday food of a good christian.") the cooking apparatus of that period consisted of a whole glittering array of cauldrons, saucepans, kettles, and vessels of red and yellow copper, which hardly sufficed for all the rich soups for which france was so famous. thence the old proverb, "en france sont les grands soupiers." but besides these soups, which were in fact looked upon as "common, and without spice," a number of dishes were served under the generic name of soup, which constituted the principal luxuries at the great tables in the fourteenth century, but which do not altogether bear out the names under which we find them. for instance, there was haricot mutton, a sort of stew; thin chicken broth; veal broth with herbs; soup made of veal, roe, stag, wild boar, pork, hare and rabbit soup flavoured with green peas, &c. the greater number of these soups were very rich, very expensive, several being served at the same time; and in order to please the eye as well as the taste they were generally made of various colours, sweetened with sugar, and sprinkled with pomegranate seeds and aromatic herbs, such as marjoram, sage, thyme, sweet basil, savoury, &c. [illustration: fig. .--coppersmith, designed and engraved in the sixteenth century by j. amman.] these descriptions of soups were perfect luxuries, and were taken instead of sweets. as a proof of this we must refer to the famous _soupe dorée_, the description of which is given by taillevent, head cook of charles vii., in the following words, "toast slices of bread, throw them into a jelly made of sugar, white wine, yolk of egg, and rosewater; when they are well soaked fry them, then throw them again into the rosewater and sprinkle them with sugar and saffron." [illustration: fig. .--kitchen and table uensils:-- , carving-knife (sixteenth century); , chalice or cup, with cover (fourteenth century); , doubled-handled pot, in copper (ninth century); , metal boiler, or tin pot, taken from "l'histoire de la belle hélaine" (fifteenth century); , knife (sixteenth century); , pot, with handles (fourteenth century); , copper boiler, taken from "l'histoire de la belle hélaine" (fifteenth century); , ewer, with handle, in oriental fashion (ninth century); , pitcher, sculptured, from among the decorations of the church of st. benedict, paris (fifteenth century); , two-branched candlestick (sixteenth century); , cauldron (fifteenth century). ] it is possible that even now this kind of soup might find some favour; but we cannot say the same for those made with mustard, hemp-seed, millet, verjuice, and a number of others much in repute at that period; for we see in rabelais that the french were the greatest soup eaters in the world, and boasted to be the inventors of seventy sorts. we have already remarked that broths were in use at the remotest periods, for, from the time that the practice of boiling various meats was first adopted, it must have been discovered that the water in which they were so boiled became savoury and nourishing. "in the time of the great king francis i.," says noël du fail, in his "contes d'eutrapel," "in many places the saucepan was put on to the table, on which there was only one other large dish, of beef, mutton, veal, and bacon, garnished with a large bunch of cooked herbs, the whole of which mixture composed a porridge, and a real restorer and elixir of life. from this came the adage, 'the soup in the great pot and the dainties in the hotch-potch.'" at one time they made what they imagined to be strengthening broths for invalids, though their virtue must have been somewhat delusive, for, after having boiled down various materials in a close kettle and at a slow fire, they then distilled from this, and the water thus obtained was administered as a sovereign remedy. the common sense of bernard palissy did not fail to make him see this absurdity, and to protest against this ridiculous custom: "take a capon," he says, "a partridge, or anything else, cook it well, and then if you smell the broth you will find it very good, and if you taste it you will find it has plenty of flavour; so much so that you will feel that it contains something to invigorate you. distil this, on the contrary, and take the water then collected and taste it, and you will find it insipid, and without smell except that of burning. this should convince you that your restorer does not give that nourishment to the weak body for which you recommend it as a means of making good blood, and restoring and strengthening the spirits." the taste for broths made of flour was formerly almost universal in france and over the whole of europe; it is spoken of repeatedly in the histories and annals of monasteries; and we know that the normans, who made it their principal nutriment, were surnamed _bouilleux_. they were indeed almost like the romans who in olden times, before their wars with eastern nations, gave up making bread, and ate their corn simply boiled in water. in the fourteenth century the broths and soups were made with millet-flour and mixed wheats. the pure wheat flour was steeped in milk seasoned with sugar, saffron, honey, sweet wine or aromatic herbs, and sometimes butter, fat, and yolks of eggs were added. it was on account of this that the bread of the ancients so much resembled cakes, and it was also from this fact that the art of the pastrycook took its rise. wheat made into gruel for a long time was an important ingredient in cooking, being the basis of a famous preparation called _fromentée_, which was a _bouillie_ of milk, made creamy by the addition of yolks of eggs, and which served as a liquor in which to roast meats and fish. there were, besides, several sorts of _fromentée_, all equally esteemed, and taillevent recommended the following receipt, which differs from the one above given:--"first boil your wheat in water, then put into it the juice or gravy of fat meat, or, if you like it better, milk of almonds, and by this means you will make a soup fit for fasts, because it dissolves slowly, is of slow digestion and nourishes much. in this way, too, you can make _ordiat_, or barley soup, which is more generally approved than the said _fromentée_." [illustration: fig. .--interior of a kitchen.--fac-simile from a woodcut in the "calendarium romanum" of j. staéffler, folio, tubingen, .] semolina, vermicelli, macaroni, &c., which were called italian because they originally came from that country, have been in use in france longer than is generally supposed. they were first introduced after the expedition of charles viii. into italy, and the conquest of the kingdom of naples; that is, in the reign of louis xii., or the first years of the sixteenth century. pies, stews, roasts, salads, &c.--pastry made with fat, which might be supposed to have been the invention of modern kitchens, was in great repute amongst our ancestors. the manufacture of sweet and savoury pastry was intrusted to the care of the good _ménagiers_ of all ranks and conditions, and to the corporation of pastrycooks, who obtained their statutes only in the middle of the sixteenth century; the united skill of these, both in paris and in the provinces, multiplied the different sorts of tarts and meat pies to a very great extent. so much was this the case that these ingenious productions became a special art, worthy of rivalling even cookery itself (figs. , , and ). one of the earliest known receipts for making pies is that of gaces de la bigne, first chaplain of kings john, charles v., and charles vi. we find it in a sporting poem, and it deserves to be quoted verbatim as a record of the royal kitchen of the fourteenth century. it will be observed on perusing it that nothing was spared either in pastry or in cookery, and that expense was not considered when it was a question of satisfying the appetite. "trois perdriaulx gros et reffais au milieu du paté me mets; mais gardes bien que tu ne failles a moi prendre six grosses cailles, de quoi tu les apuyeras. et puis après tu me prendras une douzaine d'alouètes qu'environ les cailles me mettes, et puis pendras de ces machés et de ces petits oiselés: selon ce que tu en auras, le paté m'en billeteras. or te fault faire pourvéance d'un pen de lart, sans point de rance, que tu tailleras comme dé: s'en sera le pasté pouldré. s tu le veux de bonne guise, du vertjus la grappe y soit mise, d'un bien peu de sel soit pouldré ... ... fay mettre des oeufs en la paste, les croutes un peu rudement faictes de flour de pur froment ... ... n'y mets espices ni fromaige ... au four bien à point chaud le met, qui de cendre ait l'atre bien net; e quand sera bien à point cuit, i n'est si bon mangier, ce cuit." ("put me in the middle of the pie three young partridges large and fat; but take good care not to fail to take six fine quail to put by their side. after that you must take a dozen skylarks, which round the quail you must place; and then you must take some thrushes and such other little birds as you can get to garnish the pie. further, you must provide yourself with a little bacon, which must not be in the least rank (reasty), and you must cut it into pieces of the size of a die, and sprinkle them into the pie. if you want it to be in quite good form, you must put some sour grapes in and a very little salt ... ... have eggs put into the paste, and the crust made rather hard of the flour of pure wheat. put in neither spice nor cheese ... put it into the oven just at the proper heat, the bottom of which must be quite free from ashes; and when it is baked enough, isn't that a dish to feast on!") from this period all treatises on cookery are full of the same kind of receipts for making "pies of young chickens, of fresh venison, of veal, of eels, of bream and salmon, of young rabbits, of pigeons, of small birds, of geese, and of _narrois_" (a mixture of cod's liver and hashed fish). we may mention also the small pies, which were made of minced beef and raisins, similar to our mince pies, and which were hawked in the streets of paris, until their sale was forbidden, because the trade encouraged greediness on the one hand and laziness on the other. ancient pastries, owing to their shapes, received the name of _tourte_ or _tarte_, from the latin _torta_, a large hunch of bread. this name was afterwards exclusively used for hot pies, whether they contained vegetables, meat, or fish. but towards the end of the fourteenth century _tourte_ and _tarte_ was applied to pastry containing, herbs, fruits, or preserves, and _pâté_ to those containing any kind of meat, game, or fish. [illustration: fig. .--banner of the corporation of pastrycooks of caen.] [illustration: fig. .--banner of the corporation of pastrycooks of bordeaux.] it was only in the course of the sixteenth century that the name of _potage_ ceased to be applied to stews, whose number equalled their variety, for on a bill of fare of a banquet of that period we find more than fifty different sorts of _potages_ mentioned. the greater number of these dishes have disappeared from our books on cookery, having gone out of fashion; but there are two stews which were popular during many centuries, and which have maintained their reputation, although they do not now exactly represent what they formerly did. the _pot-pourri_, which was composed of veal, beef, mutton, bacon, and vegetables, and the _galimafrée_, a fricassee of poultry, sprinkled with verjuice, flavoured with spices, and surrounded by a sauce composed of vinegar, bread crumbs, cinnamon, ginger, &c. (fig. ). the highest aim of the cooks of the taillevent school was to make dishes not only palatable, but also pleasing to the eye. these masters in the art of cooking might be said to be both sculptors and painters, so much did they decorate their works, their object being to surprise or amuse the guests by concealing the real nature of the disbes. froissart, speaking of a repast given in his time, says that there were a number of "dishes so curious and disguised that it was impossible to guess what they were." for instance, the bill of fare above referred to mentions a lion and a sun made of white chicken, a pink jelly, with diamond-shaped points; and, as if the object of cookery was to disguise food and deceive epicures, taillevent facetiously gives us a receipt for making fried or roast butter and for cooking eggs on the spit. [illustration: fig. .--interior of italian kitchen.--fac-simile of a woodcut in the book on cookery of christoforo di messisburgo, "banchetti compositioni di vivende," to., ferrara, .] the roasts were as numerous as the stews. a treatise of the fourteenth century names about thirty, beginning with a sirloin of beef, which must have been one of the most common, and ending with a swan, which appeared on table in full plumage. this last was the triumph of cookery, inasmuch as it presented this magnificent bird to the eyes of the astonished guests just as if he were living and swimming. his beak was gilt, his body silvered, resting 'on a mass of brown pastry, painted green in order to represent a grass field. eight banners of silk were placed round, and a cloth of the same material served as a carpet for the whole dish, which towered above the other appointments of the table. [illustration: fig. .--hunting-meal.--fac-simile of a miniature in the manuscript of the "livre du roy modus" (national library of paris).] the peacock, which was as much thought of then as it is little valued now, was similarly arrayed, and was brought to table amidst a flourish of trumpets and the applause of all present. the modes of preparing other roasts much resembled the present system in their simplicity, with this difference, that strong meats were first boiled to render them tender, and no roast was ever handed over to the skill of the carver without first being thoroughly basted with orange juice and rose water, and covered with sugar and powdered spices. we must not forget to mention the broiled dishes, the invention of which is attributed to hunters, and which rabelais continually refers to as acting as stimulants and irresistibly exciting the thirst for wine at the sumptuous feasts of those voracious heroes (fig. ). the custom of introducing salads after roasts was already established in the fifteenth century. however, a salad, of whatever sort, was never brought to table in its natural state; for, besides the raw herbs, dressed in the same manner as in our days, it contained several mixtures, such as cooked vegetables, and the crests, livers, or brains of poultry. after the salads fish was served; sometimes fried, sometimes sliced with eggs or reduced to a sort of pulp, which was called _carpée_ or _charpie_, and sometimes it was boiled in water or wine, with strong seasoning. near the salads, in the course of the dinner, dishes of eggs prepared in various ways were generally served. many of these are now in use, such as the poached egg, the hard-boiled egg, egg sauce, &c. [illustration: fig. .--shop of a grocer and druggist, from a stamp of vriese (seventeenth century).] seasonings.--we have already stated that the taste for spices much increased in europe after the crusades; and in this rapid historical sketch of the food of the french people in the middle ages it must have been observed to what an extent this taste had become developed in france (fig. ). this was the origin of sauces, all, or almost all, of which were highly spiced, and were generally used with boiled, roast, or grilled meats. a few of these sauces, such as the yellow, the green, and the _caméline_, became so necessary in cooking that numerous persons took to manufacturing them by wholesale, and they were hawked in the streets of paris. these sauce-criers were first called _saulciers_, then _vinaigriers-moustardiers_, and when louis xii. united them in a body, as their business had considerably increased, they were termed _sauciers-moutardiers-vinaigriers_, distillers of brandy and spirits of wine, and _buffetiers_ (from _buffet_, a sideboard). [illustration: fig. .--the cook, drawn and engraved, in the sixteenth century, by j. amman.] but very soon the corporation became divided, no doubt from the force of circumstances; and on one side we find the distillers, and on the other the master-cooks and cooks, or _porte-chapes_, as they were called, because, when they carried on their business of cooking, they covered their dishes with a _chape_, that is, a cope or tin cover (fig. ), so as to keep them warm. the list of sauces of the fourteenth century, given by the "ménagier de paris," is most complicated; but, on examining the receipts, it becomes clear that the variety of those preparations, intended to sharpen the appetite, resulted principally from the spicy ingredients with which they were flavoured; and it is here worthy of remark that pepper, in these days exclusively obtained from america, was known and generally used long before the time of columbus. it is mentioned in a document, of the time of clotaire iii. ( ); and it is clear, therefore, that before the discovery of the new world pepper and spices were imported into europe from the east. mustard, which was an ingredient in so many dishes, was cultivated and manufactured in the thirteenth century in the neighbourhood of dijon and angers. according to a popular adage, garlic was the medicine (_thériaque_) of peasants; town-people for a long time greatly appreciated _aillée_, which was a sauce made of garlic, and sold ready prepared in the streets of paris. the custom of using anchovies as a flavouring is also very ancient. this was also done with _botargue_ and _cavial_, two sorts of side-dishes, which consisted of fishes' eggs, chiefly mullet and sturgeon, properly salted or dried, and mixed with fresh or pickled olives. the olives for the use of the lower orders were brought from languedoc and provence, whereas those for the rich were imported from spain and some from syria. it was also from the south of france that the rest of the kingdom was supplied with olive oil, for which, to this day, those provinces have preserved their renown; but as early as the twelfth and thirteenth centuries oil of walnuts was brought from the centre of france to paris, and this, although cheaper, was superseded by oil extracted from the poppy. truffles, though known and esteemed by the ancients, disappeared from the gastronomie collection of our forefathers. it was only in the fourteenth century that they were again introduced, but evidently without a knowledge of their culinary qualities, since, after being preserved in vinegar, they were soaked in hot water, and afterwards served up in butter. we may also here mention sorrel and the common mushroom, which were used in cooking during the middle ages. on the strength of the old proverb, "sugar has never spoiled sauce," sugar was put into all sauces which were not _piquantes_, and generally some perfumed water was added to them, such as rose-water. this was made in great quantities by exposing to the sun a basin full of water, covered over by another basin of glass, under which was a little vase containing rose-leaves. this rose-water was added to all stews, pastries, and beverages. it is very doubtful as to the period at which white lump sugar became known in the west. however, in an account of the house of the dauphin viennois ( ) mention is made of "white sugar;" and the author of the "ménagier de paris" frequently speaks of this white sugar, which, before the discovery, or rather colonisation, of america, was brought, ready refined, from the grecian islands, and especially from candia. [illustration: fig. .--the _issue de table_.--fac-simile of a woodcut in the treatise of christoforo di messisburgo, "banchetti compositioni di vivende," to., ferrara, .] verjuice, or green juice, which, with vinegar, formed the essential basis of sauces, and is now extracted from a species of green grape, which never ripens, was originally the juice of sorrel; another sort was extracted by pounding the green blades of wheat. vinegar was originally merely soured wine, as the word _vin-aigre_ denotes. the mode of manufacturing it by artificial means, in order to render the taste more pungent and the quality better, is very ancient. it is needless to state that it was scented by the infusion of herbs or flowers--roses, elder, cloves, &c.; but it was not much before the sixteenth century that it was used for pickling herbs or fruits and vegetables, such as gherkins, onions, cucumber, purslain, &c. salt, which from the remotest periods was the condiment _par excellence_, and the trade in which had been free up to the fourteenth century, became, from that period, the subject of repeated taxation. the levying of these taxes was a frequent cause of tumult amongst the people, who saw with marked displeasure the exigencies of the excise gradually raising the price of an article of primary necessity. we have already mentioned times during which the price of salt was so exorbitant that the rich alone could put it in their bread. thus, in the reign of francis i., it was almost as dear as indian spices. sweet dishes, desserts, &c.--in the fourteenth century, the first courses of a repast were called _mets_ or _assiettes_; the last, "_entremets, dorures, issue de table, desserte_, and _boule-hors_." the dessert consisted generally of baked pears, medlars, pealed walnuts, figs, dates, peaches, grapes, filberts, spices, and white or red sugar-plums. at the _issue de table_ wafers or some other light pastry were introduced, which were eaten with the hypocras wine. the _boute-hors,_ which was served when the guests, after having washed their hands and said grace, had passed into the drawing-room, consisted of spices, different from those which had appeared at dessert, and intended specially to assist the digestion; and for this object they must have been much needed, considering that a repast lasted several hours. whilst eating these spices they drank grenache, malmsey, or aromatic wines (fig. ). it was only at the banquets and great repeats that sweet dishes and _dorures_ appeared, and they seem to have been introduced for the purpose of exhibiting the power of the imagination and the talent in execution of the master-cook. the _dorures_ consisted of jellies of all sorts and colours; swans, peacocks, bitterns, and herons, on gala feasts, were served in full feather on a raised platform in the middle of the table, and hence the name of "raised dishes." as for the side-dishes, properly so called, the long list collected in the "ménagier" shows us that they were served at table indiscriminately, for stuffed chickens at times followed hashed porpoise in sauce, lark pies succeeded lamb sausages, and pike's-eggs fritters appeared after orange preserve. at a later period the luxury of side-dishes consisted in the quantity and in the variety of the pastry; rabelais names sixteen different sorts at one repast; taillevent mentions pastry called _covered pastry, bourbonnaise pastry, double-faced pastry, pear pastry_, and _apple pastry_; platina speaks of the _white pastry_ with quince, elder flowers, rice, roses, chestnuts, &c. the fashion of having pastry is, however, of very ancient date, for in the book of the "proverbs" of the thirteenth century, we find that the pies of dourlens and the pastry of chartres were then in great celebrity. [illustration: fig. .--the table of a baron, as laid out in the thirteenth century.--miniature from the "histoire de st. graal" (manuscript from the imperial library, paris).] in a charter of robert le bouillon, bishop of amiens, in , mention is made of a cake composed of puff flaky paste; these cakes, however, are less ancient than the firm pastry called bean cake, or king's cake, which, from the earliest days of monarchy, appeared on all the tables, not only at the feast of the epiphany, but also on every festive occasion. amongst the dry and sweet pastries from the small oven which appeared at the _issue de table_, the first to be noticed were those made of almonds, nuts, &c., and such choice morsels, which were very expensive; then came the cream or cheesecakes, the _petits choux_, made of butter and eggs; the _échaudés_, of which the people were very fond, and st. louis even allowed the bakers to cook them on sundays and feast days for the poor; wafers, which are older than the thirteenth century; and lastly the _oublies_, which, under the names of _nieules, esterets_, and _supplications_, gave rise to such an extensive trade that a corporation was established in paris, called the _oublayeurs, oublayers,_ or _oublieux_, whose statutes directed that none should be admitted to exercise the trade unless he was able to make in one day large _oublies_, _supplications_, and _esterets_. repasts and feasts. we have had to treat elsewhere of the rules and regulations of the repasts under the merovingian and carlovingian kings. we have also spoken of the table service of the thirteenth century (see chapter on "private life"). the earliest author who has left us any documents on this curious subject is that excellent bourgeois to whom we owe the "ménagier de paris." he describes, for instance, in its fullest details, a repast which was given in the fourteenth century by the abbé de lagny, to the bishop of paris, the president of the parliament, the king's attorney and advocate, and other members of his council, in all sixteen guests. we find from this account that "my lord of paris, occupying the place of honour, was, in consequence of his rank, served on covered dishes by three of his squires, as was the custom for the king, the royal princes, the dukes, and peers; that master president, who was seated by the side of the bishop, was also served by one of his own servants, but on uncovered dishes, and the other guests were seated at table according to the order indicated by their titles or charges." the bill of fare of this feast, which was given on a fast-day, is the more worthy of attention, in that it proves to us what numerous resources cookery already possessed. this was especially the case as regards fish, notwithstanding that the transport of fresh sea-fish was so difficult, owing to the bad state of the roads. first, a quarter of a pint of grenache was given to each guest on sitting down, then "hot _eschaudés_, roast apples with white sugar-plums upon them, roasted figs, sorrel and watercress, and rosemary." "soups.--a rich soup, composed of six trout, six tenches, white herring, freshwater eels, salted twenty-four hours, and three whiting, soaked twelve hours; almonds, ginger, saffron, cinnamon powder and sweetmeats. "salt-water fish.--soles, gurnets, congers, turbots, and salmon. "fresh-water fish.--_lux faudis_ (pike with roe), carps from the marne, breams. "side-dishes.--lampreys _à la boee_, orange-apples (one for each guest), porpoise with sauce, mackerel, soles, bream, and shad _à la cameline_, with verjuice, rice and fried almonds upon them; sugar and apples. [illustration: fig. .--officers of the table and of the chamber of the imperial court: cup-bearer, cook, barber, and tailor, from a picture in the "triomphe de maximilien t.," engraved by j. resch, burgmayer, and others ( ), from drawings by albert durer.] "dessert.--stewed fruit with white and vermilion sugar-plums; figs, dates, grapes, and filberts. "hypocras for _issue de table_, with _oublies_ and _supplications_. "wines and spices compose the _baute-hors_." to this fasting repast we give by way of contrast the bill of fare at the nuptial feast of master helye, "to which forty guests were bidden on a tuesday in may, a 'day of flesh.'" "soups.--capons with white sauce, ornamented with pomegranate and crimson sweetmeats. "roasts.--quarter of roe-deer, goslings, young chickens, and sauces of orange, cameline, and verjuice. "side-dishes.--jellies of crayfish and loach; young rabbits and pork. "dessert.--_froumentée_ and venison. "issue.--hypocras. "boute-hors.--wine and spices." the clever editor of the "ménagier de paris," m. le baron jerôme pichon, after giving us this curious account of the mode of living of the citizens of that day, thus sums up the whole arrangements for the table in the fourteenth century: "the different provisions necessary for food are usually entrusted to the squires of the kitchen, and were chosen, purchased, and paid for by one or more of these officials, assisted by the cooks. the dishes prepared by the cooks were placed, by the help of the esquires, on dressers in the kitchen until the moment of serving. thence they were carried to the tables. let us imagine a vast hall hung with tapestries and other brilliant stuffs. the tables are covered with fringed table-cloths, and strewn with odoriferous herbs; one of them, called the great table, is reserved for the persons of distinction. the guests are taken to their seats by two butlers, who bring them water to wash. the great table is laid out by a butler, with silver salt-cellars (figs. and ), golden goblets with lids for the high personages, spoons and silver drinking cups. the guests eat at least certain dishes on _tranchoirs_, or large slices of thick bread, afterwards thrown into vases called _couloueres_ (drainers). for the other tables the salt is placed on pieces of bread, scooped out for that purpose by the intendants, who are called _porte-chappes._ in the hall is a dresser covered with plate and various kinds of wine. two squires standing near this dresser give the guests clean spoons, pour out what wine they ask for, and remove the silver when used; two other squires superintend the conveyance of wine to the dresser; a varlet placed under their orders is occupied with nothing but drawing wine from the casks." at that time wine was not bottled, and they drew directly from the cask the amount necessary for the day's consumption. "the dishes, consisting of three, four, five, and even six courses, called _mets_ or _assiettes_, are brought in by varlets and two of the principal squires, and in certain wedding-feasts the bridegroom walked in front of them. the dishes are placed on the table by an _asséeur_ (placer), assisted by two servants. the latter take away the remains at the conclusion of the course, and hand them over to the squires of the kitchen who have charge of them. after the _mets_ or _assiettes_ the table-cloths are changed, and the _entremets_ are then brought in. this course is the most brilliant of the repast, and at some of the princely banquets the dishes are made to imitate a sort of theatrical representation. it is composed of sweet dishes, of coloured jellies of swans, of peacocks, or of pheasants adorned with their feathers, having the beak and feet gilt, and placed on the middle of the table on a sort of pedestal. to the _entremets_, a course which does not appear on all bills of fare, succeeds the dessert. the _issue_, or exit from table, is mostly composed of hypocras and a sort of _oublie_ called _mestier_; or, in summer, when hypocras is out of season on account of its strength, of apples, cheeses, and sometimes of pastries and sweetmeats. the _boute-hors_ (wines and spices) end the repast. the guests then wash their hands, say grace, and pass into the _chambre de parement_ or drawing-room. the servants then sit down and dine after their masters. they subsequently bring the guests wine and _épices de chambre_, after which each retires home." [illustration: figs. and .--sides of an enamelled salt-cellar, with six facings representing the labours of hercules, made at limoges, by pierre raymond, for francis i.] but all the pomp and magnificence of the feasts of this period would have appeared paltry a century later, when royal banquets were managed by taillevent, head cook to charles vii. the historian of french cookery, legrand d'aussy, thus desoribes a great feast given in by the count of anjou, third son of louis ii., king of sicily:-- "on the table was placed a centre-piece, which represented a green lawn, surrounded with large peacocks' feathers and green branches, to which were tied violets and other sweet-smelling flowers. in the middle of this lawn a fortress was placed, covered with silver. this was hollow, and formed a sort of cage, in which several live birds were shut up, their tufts and feet being gilt. on its tower, which was gilt, three banners were placed, one bearing the arms of the count, the two others those of mesdemoiselles de châteaubrun and de villequier, in whose honour the feast was given. "the first course consisted of a civet of hare, a quarter of stag which had been a night in salt, a stuffed chicken, and a loin of veal. the two last dishes were covered with a german sauce, with gilt sugar-plums, and pomegranate seeds.... at each end, outside the green lawn, was an enormous pie, surmounted with smaller pies, which formed a crown. the crust of the large ones was silvered all round and gilt at the top; each contained a whole roe-deer, a gosling, three capons, six chickens, ten pigeons, one young rabbit, and, no doubt to serve as seasoning or stuffing, a minced loin of veal, two pounds of fat, and twenty-six hard-boiled eggs, covered with saffron and flavoured with cloves. for the three following courses, there was a roe-deer, a pig, a sturgeon cooked in parsley and vinegar, and covered with powdered ginger; a kid, two goslings, twelve chickens, as many pigeons, six young rabbits, two herons, a leveret, a fat capon stuffed, four chickens covered with yolks of eggs and sprinkled with powder _de duc_ (spice), a wild boar, some wafers (_darioles_), and stars; a jelly, part white and part red, representing the crests of the three above-mentioned persons; cream with _duc_ powder, covered with fennel seeds preserved in sugar; a white cream, cheese in slices, and strawberries; and, lastly, plums stewed in rose-water. besides these four courses, there was a fifth, entirely composed of the prepared wines then in vogue, and of preserves. these consisted of fruits and various sweet pastries. the pastries represented stags and swans, to the necks of which were suspended the arms of the count of anjou and those of the two young ladies." in great houses, dinner was announced by the sound of the hunting-horn; this is what froissard calls _corner l'assiette,_ but which was at an earlier period called _corner l'eau_, because it was the custom to wash the hands before sitting down to table as well as on leaving the dining-room. [illustration: fig. .--knife-handles in sculptured ivory, sixteenth century (collection of m. becker, of frankfort).] [illustration: fig. .--nut-crackers, in boxwood, sixteenth century (collection of m. achille jubinal).] for these ablutions scented water, and especially rose-water, was used, brought in ewers of precious and delicately wrought metals, by pages or squires, who handed them to the ladies in silver basins. it was at about this period, that is, in the times of chivalry, that the custom of placing the guests by couples was introduced, generally a gentleman and lady, each couple having but one cup and one plate; hence the expression, to eat from the same plate. historians relate that in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, at certain gala feasts, the dishes were brought in by servants in full armour, mounted on caparisoned horses; but this is a custom exclusively attached to chivalry. as early as those days, powerful and ingenious machines were in use, which lowered from the story above, or raised from that below, ready-served tables, which were made to disappear after use as if by enchantment. at that period the table service of the wealthy required a considerable staff of retainers and varlets; and, at a later period, this number was much increased. thus, for instance, when louis of orleans went on a diplomatic mission to germany from his brother charles vi., this prince, in order that france might be worthily represented abroad, raised the number of his household to more than two hundred and fifty persons, of whom about one hundred were retainers and table attendants. olivier de la marche, who, in his "mémoires," gives the most minute details of the ceremonial of the court of charles the bold, duke of burgundy, tells us that the table service was as extensive as in the other great princely houses. this extravagant and ruinous pomp fell into disuse during the reigns of louis xi., charles viii., and louis xii., but reappeared in that of francis i. this prince, after his first wars in italy, imported the cookery and the gastronomic luxury of that country, where the art of good living, especially in venice, florence, and rome, had reached the highest degree of refinement and magnificence. henry ii. and francis ii. maintained the magnificence of their royal tables; but after them, notwithstanding the soft effeminacy of the manners at court, the continued wars which henry iii. and charles ix. had to sustain in their own states against the protestants and the league necessitated a considerable economy in the households and tables of those kings. "it was only by fits and starts," says brantôme, "that one was well fed during this reign, for very often circumstances prevented the proper preparation of the repasts; a thing much disliked by the courtiers, who prefer open table to be kept at both court and with the army, because it then costs them nothing." henry iv. was neither fastidious nor greedy; we must therefore come down to the reign of louis xiii. to find a vestige of the splendour of the banquets of francis i. [illustration: fig. .--grand ceremonial banquet at the court of france in the fourteenth century, archaeological restoration from miniatures and narratives of the period. from the "dictionnaire du mobilier français" of m. viollet-leduc.] from the establishment of the franks in gaul down to the fifteenth century inclusive, there were but two meals a day; people dined at ten o'clock in the morning, and supped at four in the afternoon. in the sixteenth century they put back dinner one hour and supper three hours, to which many people objected. hence the old proverb:-- "lever à six, dîner à dix, souper à six, coucher à dix, fait vivre l'homme dix fois dix." ("to rise at six, dine at ten, sup at six, to bed at ten, makes man live ten times ten.") [illustration: fig. .--banner of the corporation of pastrycooks of tonnerre.] hunting. venery and hawking.--origin of aix-la-chapelle.--gaston phoebus and his book.--the presiding deities of sportsmen.--sporting societies and brotherhoods.--sporting kings: charlemagne, louis ix., louis xi., charles viii., louis xii., francis i., &c.--treatise on venery.--sporting popes.--origin of hawking.--training birds.--hawking retinues.--book of king modus.--technical terms used in hawking.--persons who have excelled in this kind of sport.--fowling. by the general term hunting is included the three distinct branches of an art, or it may be called a science, which dates its origin from the earliest times, but which was particularly esteemed in the middle ages, and was especially cultivated in the glorious days of chivalry. _venery_, which is the earliest, is defined by m. elzéar blaze as "the science of snaring, taking, or killing one particular animal from amongst a herd." _hawking_ came next. this was not only the art of hunting with the falcon, but that of training birds of prey to hunt feathered game. lastly, _l'oisellerie_ (fowling), which, according to the author of several well-known works on the subject we are discussing, had originally no other object than that of protecting the crops and fruits from birds and other animals whose nature it was to feed on them. venery will be first considered. sportsmen always pride themselves in placing xenophon, the general, philosopher, and historian, at the head of sporting writers, although his treatise on the chase (translated from the greek into latin under the title of "de venatione"), which gives excellent advice respecting the training of dogs, only speaks of traps and nets for capturing wild animals. amongst the greeks arrian and oppian, and amongst the romans, gratius faliscus and nemesianus, wrote on the same subject. their works, however, except in a few isolated or scattered passages, do not contain anything about venery properly so called, and the first historical information on the subject is to be found in the records of the seventh century. long after that period, however, they still hunted, as it were, at random, attacking the first animal they met. the sports of charlemagne, for instance, were almost always of this description. on some occasions they killed animals of all sorts by thousands, after having tracked and driven them into an enclosure composed of cloths or nets. this illustrious emperor, although usually at war in all parts of europe, never missed an opportunity of hunting: so much so that it might be said that he rested himself by galloping through the forests. he was on these occasions not only followed by a large number of huntsmen and attendants of his household, but he was accompanied by his wife and daughters, mounted on magnificent coursers, and surrounded by a numerous and elegant court, who vied with each other in displaying their skill and courage in attacking the fiercest animals. it is even stated that aix-la-chapelle owes its origin to a hunting adventure of charlemagne. the emperor one day while chasing a stag required to cross a brook which came in his path, but immediately his horse had set his foot in the water he pulled it out again and began to limp as if it were hurt. his noble rider dismounted, and on feeling the foot found it was quite hot. this induced him to put his hand into the water, which he found to be almost boiling. on that very spot therefore he caused a chapel to be erected, in the shape of a horse's hoof. the town was afterwards built, and to this day the spring of hot mineral water is enclosed under a rotunda, the shape of which reminds one of the old legend of charlemagne and his horse. the sons of charlemagne also held hunting in much esteem, and by degrees the art of venery was introduced and carried to great perfection. it was not, however, until the end of the thirteenth century that an anonymous author conceived the idea of writing its principal precepts in an instructive poem, called "le dict de la chace du cerf." in another anonymous writer composed the "livre du roy modus," which contains the rules for hunting all furred animals, from the stag to the hare. then followed other poets and writers of french prose, such as gace de la vigne ( ), gaston phoebus ( ), and hardouin, lord of fontaine-guérin ( ). none of these, however, wrote exclusively on venery, but described the different sports known in their day. towards , alphonse xi., king of castile, caused a book on hunting to be compiled for his use; but it was not so popular as the instruction of gaston phoebus (fig. ). if hunting with hounds is known everywhere by the french name of the chase, it is because the honour of having organized it into a system, if not of having originated it, is due to the early french sporting authors, who were able to form a code of rules for it. this also accounts for so many of the technical terms now in use in venery being of french origin, as they are no others than those adopted by these ancient authors, whose works, so to speak, have perpetuated them. [illustration: fig. .--gaston phoebus teaching the art of venery.--fac-simile of a miniature of "phoebus and his staff for hunting wild animals and birds of prey" (manuscript, fifteenth century, national library of paris)] [illustration: fig. .--"how to carry a cloth to approach beasts."--fac-simile of a miniature in the manuscript of phoebus (fifteenth century).] the curious miniatures which accompany the text in the original manuscript of gaston phoebus, and which have been reproduced in nearly all the ancient copies of this celebrated manuscript, give most distinct and graphic ideas of the various modes of hunting. we find, for instance, that the use of an artificial cow for approaching wild-fowl was understood at that time, the only difference being that a model was used more like a horse than a cow (fig. ); we also see sportsmen shooting at bears, wild boars, stags, and such live animals with arrows having sharp iron points, intended to enter deep into the flesh, notwithstanding the thickness of the fur and the creature's hard skin. in the case of the hare, however, the missile had a heavy, massive end, probably made of lead, which stunned him without piercing his body (fig. ). in other cases the sportsman is represented with a crossbow seated in a cart, all covered up with boughs, by which plan he was supposed to approach the prey without alarming it any more than a swinging branch would do (fig. ). gaston phoebus is known to have been one of the bravest knights of his time; and, after fighting, he considered hunting as his greatest delight. somewhat ingenuously he writes of himself as a hunter, "that he doubts having any superior." like all his contemporaries, he is eloquent as to the moral effect of his favourite pastime. "by hunting," he says, "one avoids the sin of indolence; and, according to our faith, he who avoids the seven mortal sins will be saved; therefore the good sportsman will be saved." [illustration: fig. .--"how to allure the hare."--fac-simile of a miniature in the manuscript of phoebus (fifteenth century).] from the earliest ages sportsmen placed themselves under the protection of some special deity. among the greeks and romans it was diana and phoebe. the gauls, who had adopted the greater number of the gods and goddesses of rome, invoked the moon when they sallied forth to war or to the chase; but, as soon as they penetrated the sacred obscurity of the forests, they appealed more particularly to the goddess _ardhuina_, whose name, of unknown origin, has probably since been applied to the immense well-stocked forests of ardenne or ardennes. they erected in the depths of the woods monstrous stone figures in honour of this goddess, such as the heads of stags on the bodies of men or women; and, to propitiate her during the chase, they hung round these idols the feet, the skins, and the horns of the beasts they killed. cernunnos, who was always represented with a human head surmounted by stags' horns, had an altar even in lutetia, which was, no doubt, in consequence of the great woods which skirted the banks of the seine. [illustration: fig. .--"how to take a cart to allure beasts."--fac-simile of a miniature in the manuscript of phoebus (fifteenth century).] the gallic cernunnos, which we also find among the romans, since ovid mentions the votary stags' horns, continued to be worshipped to a certain extent after the establishment of the christian religion. in the fifth century, germain, an intrepid hunter, who afterwards became bishop of auxerre, possessed not far from his residence an oak of enormous diameter, a thorough cernunnos, which he hung with the skins and other portions of animals he had killed in the chase. in some countries, where the cernunnos remained an object of veneration, everybody bedecked it in the same way. the largest oak to be found in the district was chosen on which to suspend the trophies both of warriors and of hunters; and, at a more recent period, sportsmen used to hang outside their doors stags' heads, boars' feet, birds of prey, and other trophies, a custom which evidently was a relic of the one referred to. on pagan idolatry being abandoned, hunters used to have a presiding genius or protector, whom they selected from amongst the saints most in renown. some chose st. germain d'auxerre, who had himself been a sportsman; others st. martin, who had been a soldier before he became bishop of tours. eventually they all agreed to place themselves under the patronage of st. hubert, bishop of liège, a renowned hunter of the eighth century. this saint devoted himself to a religious life, after one day haying encountered a miraculous stag whilst hunting in the woods, which appeared to him as bearing between his horns a luminous image of our saviour. at first the feast of st. hubert was celebrated four times a year, namely, at the anniversaries of his conversion and death, and on the two occasions on which his relics were exhibited. at the celebration of each of these feasts a large number of sportsmen in "fine apparel" came from great distances with their horses and dogs. there was, in fact, no magnificence or pomp deemed too imposing to be displayed, both by the kings and nobles, in honour of the patron-saint of hunting (fig. ). [illustration: fig. .--"how to shout and blow horns."--fac-simile of a miniature in the manuscript of phoebus (fifteenth century).] [illustration: ladies hunting costumes of the fifteenth century. from a miniature in a ms. copy of _ovid's epistles_ no _bis._ bibl. nat'le de paris.] [illustration: fig. .--german sportsman, drawn and engraved by j. amman in the sixteenth century.] hunters and sportsmen in those days formed brotherhoods, which had their rank defined at public ceremonials, and especially in processions. in , gérard, duke of cleves and burgrave of ravensberg, created the order of the knights of st. hubert, into which those of noble blood only were admitted. the insignia consisted of a gold or silver chain formed of hunting horns, to which was hung a small likeness of the patron-saint in the act of doing homage to our saviour's image as it shone on the head of a stag. it was popularly believed that the knights of st. hubert had the power of curing madness, which, for some unknown reason, never showed itself in a pack of hounds. this, however, was not the only superstitious belief attached to the noble and adventurous occupations of the followers of st. hubert. amongst a number of old legends, which mostly belong to germany (fig. ), mention is made of hunters who sold their souls to the devil in exchange for some enchanted arrow which never missed its aim, and which reached game at extraordinary distances. mention is also made in these legends of various animals which, on being pursued by the hunters, were miraculously saved by throwing themselves into the arms of some saint, or by running into some holy sanctuary. there were besides knights who, having hunted all their lives, believed that they were to continue the same occupation in another world. an account is given in history of the apparition of a fiery phantom to charles ix. in the forest of lyons, and also the ominous meeting of henry iv. with the terrible _grand-veneur_ in the forest of fontainebleau. we may account for these strange tales from the fact that hunting formerly constituted a sort of freemasonry, with its mysterious rites and its secret language. the initiated used particular signs of recognition amongst themselves, and they also had lucky and unlucky numbers, emblematical colours, &c. the more dangerous the sport the more it was indulged in by military men. the chronicles of the monk of saint-gall describe an adventure which befell charlemagne on the occasion of his setting out with his huntsmen and hounds in order to chase an enormous bear which was the terror of the vosges. the bear, after having disabled numerous dogs and hunters, found himself face to face with the emperor, who alone dared to stand up before him. a fierce combat ensued on the summit of a rock, in which both were locked together in a fatal embrace. the contest ended by the death of the bear, charles striking him with his dagger and hurling him down the precipice. on this the hills resounded with the cry of "vive charles le grand!" from the numerous huntsmen and others who had assembled; and it is said that this was the first occasion on which the companions of the intrepid monarch gave him the title of _grand_ (magnus), so from that time king charles became king _charlemagne_. this prince was most jealous of his rights of hunting, which he would waive to no one. for a long time he refused permission to the monks of the abbey of st. denis, whom he nevertheless held in great esteem, to have some stags killed which were destroying their forests. it was only on condition that the flesh of these animals would serve as food to the monks of inferior order, and that their hides should be used for binding the missals, that he eventually granted them permission to kill the offending animals (fig. ). if we pass from the ninth to the thirteenth century, we find that louis ix., king of france, was as keen a sportsman and as brave a warrior as any of his ancestors. he was, indeed, as fond of hunting as of war, and during his first crusade an opportunity occurred to him of hunting the lion. "as soon as he began to know the country of cesarea," says joinville, "the king set to work with his people to hunt lions, so that they captured many; but in doing so they incurred great bodily danger. the mode of taking them was this: they pursued them on the swiftest horses. when they came near one they shot a bolt or arrow at him, and the animal, feeling himself wounded, ran at the first person he could see, who immediately turned his horse's head and fled as fast as he could. during his flight he dropped a portion of his clothing, which the lion caught up and tore, thinking it was the person who had injured him; and whilst the lion was thus engaged the hunters again approached the infuriated animal and shot more bolts and arrows at him. soon the lion left the cloth and madly rushed at some other hunter, who adopted the same strategy as before. this was repeated until the animal succumbed, becoming exhausted by the wounds he had received." [illustration: fig. .--"nature and appearance of deer, and how they can be hunted with dogs."--fac-simile of a miniature in the "livre du roy modus"--manuscript of the fourteenth century (national library of paris)] notwithstanding the passion which this king had for hunting, he was the first to grant leave to the bourgeoisie to enjoy the sport. the condition he made with them was that they should always give a haunch of any animal killed to the lord of the soil. it is to this that we must trace the origin of giving the animal's foot to the huntsman or to the person who has the lead of the hunting party. louis xi., however, did not at all act in this liberal manner, and although it might have been supposed that the incessant wars and political intrigues in which he was constantly engaged would have given him no time for amusements of this kind, yet he was, nevertheless, the keenest sportsman of his day. this tyrant of the castle of plessis-les-tours, who was always miserly, except in matters of hunting, in which he was most lavish, forbade even the higher classes to hunt under penalty of hanging. to ensure the execution of his severe orders, he had all the castles as well as the cottages searched, and any net, engine, or sporting arm found was immediately destroyed. his only son, the heir to the throne, was not exempted from these laws. shut up in the castle of amboise, he had no permission to leave it, for it was the will of the king that the young prince should remain ignorant of the noble exercises of chivalry. one day the dauphin prayed his governor, m. du bouchage, with so much earnestness to give him an idea of hunting, that this noble consented to make an excursion into the neighbouring wood with him. the king, however, managed to find it out, and du bouchage had great difficulty in keeping his head on his shoulders. one of the best ways of pleasing louis xi. was to offer him some present relating to his favourite pastime, either pointers, hounds, falcons, or varlets who were adepts in the art of venery or hawking (figs. and ). when the cunning monarch became old and infirm, in order to make his enemies believe that he was still young and vigorous, he sent messengers everywhere, even to the most remote countries, to purchase horses, dogs, and falcons, for which, according to comines, he paid large sums (fig. ). on his death, the young prince, charles viii., succeeded him, and he seems to have had an innate taste for hunting, and soon made up for lost time and the privation to which his father had subjected him. he hunted daily, and generously allowed the nobles to do the same. it is scarcely necessary to say that these were not slow in indulging in the privilege thus restored to them, and which was one of their most ancient pastimes and occupations; for it must be remembered that, in those days of small intellectual culture, hunting must have been a great, if not at times the only, resource against idleness and the monotony of country life. everything which related to sport again became the fashion amongst the youth of the nobility, and their chief occupation when not engaged in war. they continued as formerly to invent every sort of sporting device. for example, they obtained from other countries traps, engines, and hunting-weapons; they introduced into france at great expense foreign animals, which they took great pains in naturalising as game or in training as auxiliaries in hunting. after having imported the reindeer from lapland, which did not succeed in their temperate climate, and the pheasant from tartary, with which they stocked the woods, they imported with greater success the panther and the leopard from africa, which were used for furred game as the hawk was for feathered game. the mode of hunting with these animals was as follows: the sportsmen, preceded by their dogs, rode across country, each with a leopard sitting behind him on his saddle. when the dogs had started the game the leopard jumped off the saddle and sprang after it, and as soon as it was caught the hunters threw the leopard a piece of raw flesh, for which he gave up the prey and remounted behind his master (fig. ) louis xi., charles viii., and louis xii. often hunted thus. the leopards, which formed a part of the royal venery, were kept in an enclosure of the castle of amboise, which still exists near the gate _des lions_, so called, no doubt, on account of these sporting and carnivorous animals being mistaken for lions by the common people. there, were, however, always lions in the menageries of the kings of france. [illustration: fig. .--"the way to catch squirrels on the ground in the woods"--fac-simile of a miniature in the manuscript of the "livre du roy modus" (fourteenth century)] francis i. was quite as fond of hunting as any of his predecessors. his innate taste for sport was increased during his travels in italy, where he lived with princes who displayed great splendour in their hunting equipages. he even acquired the name of the _father of sportsmen_. his _netting_ establishment alone, consisted of one captain, one lieutenant, twelve mounted huntsmen, six varlets to attend the bloodhounds; six whips, who had under their charge sixty hounds; and one hundred bowmen on foot, carrying large stakes for fixing the nets and tents, which were carried by fifty six-horsed chariots. he was much pleased when ladies followed the chase; and amongst those who were most inclined to share its pleasures, its toils, and even its perils, was catherine de medicis, then dauphine, who was distinguished for her agility and her graceful appearance on horseback, and who became a thorough sportswoman. [illustration: fig. .-"the way of catching partridges with an osier net-work apparatus"--fac-simile of a miniature in "livre du roy modus."] the taste for hunting having become very general, and the art being considered as the most noble occupation to which persons could devote themselves, it is not surprising to find sporting works composed by writers of the greatest renown and of the highest rank. the learned william budé, whom erasmus called the _wonder of france_, dedicated to the children of francis i. the second book of his "philologie," which contains a treatise on stag-hunting. this treatise, originally written in latin, was afterwards translated into french by order of charles ix., who was acknowledged to be one of the boldest and most scientific hunters of his time. an extraordinary feat, which has never been imitated by any one, is recorded of him, and that was, that alone, on horseback and without dogs, he hunted down a stag. the "chasse royale," the authorship of which is attributed to him, is replete with scientific information. "wolf-hunting," a work by the celebrated clamorgan, and "yenery," by du fouilloux, were dedicated to charles ix., and a great number of special treatises on such subjects appeared in his reign. [illustration: fig. .--"kennel in which dogs should live, and how they should be kept."--fac-simile of a miniature in manuscript of phoebus (fifteenth century).] his brother, the effeminate henry iii., disliked hunting, as he considered it too fatiguing and too dangerous. on the other hand, according to sully, henry iv., _le béarnais_, who learned hunting in early youth in the pyrenees, "loved all kinds of sport, and, above all, the most fatiguing and adventurous pursuits, such as those after wolves, bears, and boars." he never missed a chance of hunting, "even when in face of an enemy. if he knew a stag to be near, he found time to hunt it," and we find in the "memoirs of sully " that the king hunted the day after the famous battle of ivry. one day, when he was only king of navarre, he invited the ladies of pau to come and see a bear-hunt. happily they refused, for on that occasion their nerves would have been put to a serious test. two bears killed two of the horses, and several bowmen were hugged to death by the ferocious animals. another bear, although pierced in several places, and having six or seven pike-heads in his body, charged eight men who were stationed on the top of a rock, and the whole of them with the bear were all dashed to pieces down the precipice. the only point in which louis xiii. resembled his father was his love of the chase, for during his reign hunting continued in france, as well as in other countries, to be a favourite royal pastime. we have remarked that st. germain d'auxerre, who at a certain period was the patron of sportsmen, made hunting his habitual relaxation. he devoted himself to it with great keenness in his youth, before he became bishop, that is, when he was duke of auxerre and general of the troops of the provinces. subsequently, when against his will he was raised to the episcopal dignity, not only did he give up all pleasures, but he devoted himself to the strictest religious life. unfortunately, in those days, all church-men did not understand, as he did, that the duties of their holy vocation were not consistent with these pastimes, for, in the year , we find that councils and synods forbade priests to hunt. in spite of this, however, the ancient historians relate that several noble prelates, yielding to the customs of the times, indulged in hunting the stag and flying the falcon. [illustration: fig. .--hunting with the leopard, from a stamp of jean stradan (sixteenth century).] it is related in history that some of the most illustrious popes were also great lovers of the chase, namely, julius ii, leo x., and, previously to them, pius ii, who, before becoming pope, amongst other literary and scientific works, wrote a latin treatise on venery under his christian names, Æneas silvius. it is easy to understand how it happened that sports formerly possessed such attractions for ecclesiastical dignitaries. in early life they acquired the tastes and habits of people of their rank, and they were accordingly extremely jealous of the rights of chase in their domains. although pope clement v., in his celebrated "institutions," called "clémentines," had formally forbidden the monks to hunt, there were few who did not evade the canonical prohibition by pursuing furred game, and that without considering that they were violating the laws of the church. the papal edict permitted the monks and priests to hunt under certain circumstances, and especially where rabbits or beasts of prey increased so much as to damage the crops. it can easily be imagined that such would always be the case at a period when the people were so strictly forbidden to destroy game; and therefore hunting was practised at all seasons in the woods and fields in the vicinity of each abbey. the jealous peasants, not themselves having the right of hunting, and who continually saw _master abbot_ passing on his hunting excursions, said, with malice, that "the monks never forgot to pray for the success of the litters and nests (_pro pullis et nidis_), in order that game might always be abundant." [illustration: fig. .--"how wolves may be caught with a snare."--fac-simile of a miniature in the manuscript of phoebus (fifteenth century).] if venery, as a regular science, dates from a comparatively recent period, it is not so with falconry, the first traces of which are lost in obscure antiquity. this kind of sport, which had become a most learned and complicated art, was the delight of the nobles of the middle ages and during the renaissance period. it was in such esteem that a nobleman or his lady never appeared in public without a hawk on the wrist as a mark of dignity (fig. ). even bishops and abbots entered the churches with their hunting birds, which they placed on the steps of the altar itself during the service. [illustration: fig. .--"how bears and other beasts may be caught with a dart."--fac-simile of a miniature in the manuscript of phoebus (fifteenth century).] the bird, like the sword, was a distinctive mark which was inseparable from the person of gentle birth, who frequently even went to war with the falcon on his wrist. during the battle he would make his squire hold the bird, which he replaced on his gauntlet when the fight was over. in fact, it was forbidden by the laws of chivalry for persons to give up their birds, even as a ransom, should they be made prisoners; in which case they had to let the noble birds fly, in order that they might not share their captivity. the falcon to a certain degree partook of his owner's nobility; he was, moreover, considered a noble bird by the laws of falconry, as were all birds of prey which could be trained for purposes of sport. all other birds, without distinction, were declared _ignoble_, and no exception was made to this rule by the naturalists of the middle ages, even in favour of the strongest and most magnificent, such as the eagle and vulture. according to this capricious classification, they considered the sparrow-hawk, which was the smallest of the hunting-birds, to rank higher than the eagle. the nickname of this diminutive sporting bird was often applied to a country-gentleman, who, not being able to afford to keep falcons, used the sparrow-hawk to capture partridges and quail. [illustration: fig. .--olifant, or hunting-horn, in ivory (fourteenth century).--from an original existing in england.] it was customary for gentlemen of all classes, whether sportsmen or not, to possess birds of some kind, "to keep up their rank," as the saying then was. only the richest nobles, however, were expected to keep a regular falconry, that is, a collection of birds suited for taking all kinds of game, such as the hare, the kite, the heron, &c., as each sport not only required special birds, but a particular and distinctive retinue and establishment. [illustration: fig. .--details hunting-horn of the fourteenth century.--from the original in an english collection.] besides the cost of falcons, which was often very great (for they were brought from the most distant countries, such as sweden, iceland, turkey, and morocco), their rearing and training involved considerable outlay, as may be more readily understood from the illustrations (figs. to ), showing some of the principal details of the long and difficult education which had to be given them. to succeed in making the falcon obey the whistle, the voice, and the signs of the falconer was the highest aim of the art, and it was only by the exercise of much patience that the desired resuit was obtained. all birds of prey, when used for sport, received the generic name of _falcon_; and amongst them were to be found the gerfalcon, the saker-hawk, the lanner, the merlin, and the sparrow-hawk. the male birds were smaller than the females, and were called _tiercelet_--this name, however, more particularly applied to the gosshawk or the largest kind of male hawk, whereas the males of the above mentioned were called _laneret, sacret, émouchet._ generally the male birds were used for partridges and quail, and the female birds for the hare, the heron, and crane. _oiseaux de poing_, or _hand-birds,_ was the name given to the gosshawk, common hawk, the gerfalcon, and the merlin, because they returned to the hand of their master after having pursued game. the lanner, sparrow-hawk, and saker-hawk were called _oiseaux de leure_, from the fact that it was always necessary to entice them back again. [illustration: fig. .--a noble of provence (fifteenth century).--bonnart's "costumes from the tenth to the sixteenth century."] the lure was an imitation of a bird, made of red cloth, that it might be more easily seen from a distance. it was stuffed so that the falcon could settle easily on it, and furnished with the wings of a partridge, duck, or heron, according to circumstances. the falconer swung his mock bird like a sling, and whistled as he did so, and the falcon, accustomed to find a piece of flesh attached to the lure, flew down in order to obtain it, and was thus secured. [illustration: fig. .--king modus teaching the art of falconry.--fac-simile of a miniature in the manuscript of "livre du roy modus" (fourteenth century).] the trainers of birds divided them into two kinds, namely, the _niais_ or simple bird, which had been taken from the nest, and the wild bird (_hagard_) captured when full-grown. the education of the former was naturally very much the easier, but they succeeded in taming both classes, and even the most rebellious were at last subdued by depriving them of sleep, by keeping away the light from them, by coaxing them with the voice, by patting them, by giving them choice food, &c. regardless of his original habits, the bird was first accustomed to have no fear of men, horses, and dogs. he was afterwards fastened to a string by one leg, and, being allowed to fly a short distance, was recalled to the lure, where he always found a dainty bit of food. after he had been thus exercised for several months, a wounded partridge was let loose that he might catch it near the falconer, who immediately took it from him before he could tear it to pieces. when he appeared sufficiently tame, a quail or partridge, previously stripped of a few feathers so as to prevent it flying properly, was put in his way as before. if he was wanted for hunting hares, a stuffed hare was dragged before him, inside of which was a live chicken, whose head and liver was his reward if he did his work well. then they tried him with a hare whose fore-leg was broken in order to ensure his being quickly caught. for the kite, they placed two hawks together on the same perch, so as to accustom them peaceably to live and hunt together, for if they fought with one another, as strange birds were apt to do, instead of attacking the kite, the sport would of course have failed. at first a hen of the colour of a kite was given them to fight with. when they had mastered this, a real kite was used, which was tied to a string and his claws and beak were filed so as to prevent him from wounding the young untrained falcons. the moment they had secured their prey, they were called off it and given chickens' flesh to eat on the lure. the same system was adopted for hunting the heron or crane (fig. ). [illustration: fig. .--falconers dressing their birds.--fac-simile of a miniature in the manuscript of "livre du roy modus" (fourteenth century).] it will be seen that, in order to train birds, it was necessary for a large number of the various kinds of game to be kept on the premises, and for each branch of sport a regular establishment was required. in falconry, as in venery, great care was taken to secure that a bird should continue at one object of prey until he had secured it, that is to say, it was most essential to teach it not to leave the game he was after in order to pursue another which might come in his way. to establish a falconry, therefore, not only was a very large poultry-yard required, but also a considerable staff of huntsmen, falconers, and whips, besides a number of horses and dogs of all sorts, which were either used for starting the game for the hawks, or for running it down when it was forced to ground by the birds. [illustration: fig. .--varlets of falconry.--fac-simile of a miniature in the manuscript of "livre du roy modus" (fourteenth century).] a well-trained falcon was a bird of great value, and was the finest present that could be made to a lady, to a nobleman, or to the king himself, by any one who had received a favour. for instance, the king of france received six birds from the abbot of st. hubert as a token of gratitude for the protection granted by him to the abbey. the king of denmark sent him several as a gracious offering in the month of april; the grand master of malta in the month of may. at court, in those days, the reception of falcons either in public or in private was a great business, and the first trial of any new birds formed a topic of conversation among the courtiers for some time after. the arrival at court of a hawk-dealer from some distant country was also a great event. it is said that louis xi. gave orders that watch should be kept night and day to seize any falcons consigned to the duke of brittany from turkey. the plan succeeded, and the birds thus stolen were brought to the king, who exclaimed, "by our holy lady of cléry! what will the duke francis and his bretons do? they will be very angry at the good trick i have played them." european princes vied with each other in extravagance as regards falconry; but this was nothing in comparison to the magnificence displayed in oriental establishments. the count de nevers, son of philip the bold, duke of burgundy, having been made prisoner at the battle of nicopolis, was presented to the sultan bajazet, who showed him his hunting establishment consisting of seven thousand falconers and as many huntsmen. the duke of burgundy, on hearing this, sent twelve white hawks, which were very scarce birds, as a present to bajazet. the sultan was so pleased with them that he sent him back his son in exchange. [illustration: fig. .--"how to train a new falcon."--fac-simile of a miniature in the manuscript of "livre du roy modus" (fourteenth century).] the "livre du roy modus" gives the most minute and curious details on the noble science of hawking. for instance, it tells us that the _nobility_ of the falcon was held in such respect that their utensils, trappings, or feeding-dishes were never used for other birds. the glove on which they were accustomed to alight was frequently elaborately embroidered in gold, and was never used except for birds of their own species. in the private establishments the leather hoods, which were put on their heads to prevent them seeing, were embroidered with gold and pearls and surmounted with the feathers of birds of paradise. each bird wore on his legs two little bells with his owner's crest upon them; the noise made by these was very distinct, and could be heard even when the bird was too high in the air to be seen, for they were not made to sound in unison; they generally came from italy, milan especially being celebrated for their manufacture. straps were also fastened to the falcon's legs, by means of which he was attached to the perch; at the end of this strap was a brass or gold ring with the owner's name engraved upon it. in the royal establishments each ring bore on one side, "i belong to the king," and on the other the name of the grand falconer. this was a necessary precaution, for the birds frequently strayed, and, if captured, they could thus be recognised and returned. the ownership of a falcon was considered sacred, and, by an ancient barbaric law, the stealer of a falcon was condemned to a very curious punishment. the unfortunate thief was obliged to allow the falcon to eat six ounces of the flesh of his breast, unless he could pay a heavy fine to the owner and another to the king. [illustration: fig. .--falconers.--fac-simile from a miniature in manuscript of the thirteenth century, which treats of the "cour de jaime, roi de maiorque."] a man thoroughly acquainted with the mode of training hawks was in high esteem everywhere. if he was a freeman, the nobles outbid each other as to who should secure his services; if he was a serf, his master kept him as a rare treasure, only parted with him as a most magnificent present, or sold him for a considerable sum. like the clever huntsman, a good falconer (fig. ) was bound to be a man of varied information on natural history, the veterinary art, and the chase; but the profession generally ran in families, and the son added his own experience to the lessons of his father. there were also special schools of venery and falconry, the most renowned being of course in the royal household. the office of grand falconer of france, the origin of which dates from , was one of the highest in the kingdom. the maréchal de fleuranges says, in his curious "memoirs"--"the grand falconer, whose salary is four thousand florins" (the golden florin was worth then twelve or fifteen francs, and this amount must represent upwards of eighty thousand francs of present currency), "has fifty gentlemen under him, the salary of each being from five to six thousand livres. he has also fifty assistant falconers at two hundred livres each, all chosen by himself. his establishment consists of three hundred birds; he has the right to hunt wherever he pleases in the kingdom; he levies a tax on all bird-dealers, who are forbidden, under penalty of the confiscation of their stock, from selling a single bird in any town or at court without his sanction." the grand falconer was chief at all the hunts or hawking meetings; in public ceremonies he always appeared with the bird on his wrist, as an emblem of his rank; and the king, whilst hawking, could not let loose his bird until after the grand falconer had slipped his. [illustration: fig. .--"how to bathe a new falcon."--fac-simile of a miniature in the manuscript of "livre du roy modus" (fourteenth century).] falconry, like venery, had a distinctive and professional vocabulary, which it was necessary for every one who joined in hawking to understand, unless he wished to be looked upon as an ignorant yeoman. "flying the hawk is a royal pastime," says the jesuit claude binet, "and it is to talk royally to talk of the flight of birds. every one speaks of it, but few speak well. many speak so ignorantly as to excite pity among their hearers. sometimes one says the _hand_ of the bird instead of saying the _talon_, sometimes the _talon_ instead of the _claw_, sometimes the _claw_ instead of the _nail_" &c. the fourteenth century was the great epoch of falconry. there were then so many nobles who hawked, that in the rooms of inns there were perches made under the large mantel-pieces on which to place the birds while the sportsmen were at dinner. histories of the period are full of characteristic anecdotes, which prove the enthusiasm which was created by hawking in those who devoted themselves to it. [illustration: fig. .--"how to make young hawks fly."--fac-simile of a miniature in the manuscript of "livre du roy modus" (fourteenth century).] emperors and kings were as keen as others for this kind of sport. as early as the tenth century the emperor henry i. had acquired the soubriquet of "the bird-catcher," from the fact of his giving much more attention to his birds than to his subjects. his example was followed by one of his successors, the emperor henry vi., who was reckoned the first falconer of his time. when his father, the emperor frederick barbarossa (red-beard), died in the holy land, in , the archdukes, electors of the empire, went out to meet the prince so as to proclaim him emperor of germany. they found him, surrounded by dogs, horses, and birds, ready to go hunting. "the day is fine," he said; "allow us to put off serious affairs until to-morrow." two centuries later we find at the court of france the same ardour for hawking and the same admiration for the performances of falcons. the constable bertrand du guesclin gave two hawks to king charles vi.; and the count de tancarville, whilst witnessing a combat between these noble birds and a crane which had been powerful enough to keep two greyhounds at bay, exclaimed, "i would not give up the pleasure which i feel for a thousand florins!" the court-poet, william crétin, although he was canon of the holy chapel of vincennes, was as passionately fond of hawking as his good master louis xii. he thus describes the pleasure he felt in seeing a heron succumb to the vigorous attack of the falcons:-- "qui auroit la mort aux dents, il revivroit d'avour un tel passe-temps!" ("he who is about to die would live again with such amusement.") [illustration: fig. .--lady setting out hawking.--fac-simile of a miniature in the manuscript of "livre du roy modus" (fourteenth. century).] at a hunting party given by louis xii. to the archduke maximilian, mary of burgundy, the archduke's wife, was killed by a fall from her horse. the king presented his best falcons to the archduke with a view to divert his mind and to turn his attention from the sad event, and one of the historians tells us that the bereaved husband was soon consoled: "the partridges, herons, wild ducks, and quails which he was enabled to take on his journey home by means of the king's present, materially lessening his sorrow." falconry, after having been in much esteem for centuries, at last became amenable to the same law which affects all great institutions, and, having reached the height of its glory, it was destined to decay. although the art disappeared completely under louis the great, who only liked stag-kunting, and who, by drawing all the nobility to court, disorganized country life, no greater adept had ever been known than king louis xiii. his first favourite and grand falconer was albert de luynes, whom he made prime minister and constable. even in the tuileries gardens, on his way to mass at the convent of the feuillants, this prince amused himself by catching linnets and wrens with noisy magpies trained to pursue small birds. it was during this reign that some ingenious person discovered that the words louis treiziÈme, roy de france et de navarre, exactly gave this anagram, roy trÈs-rare, estimÉ dieu de la fauconnerie. it was also at this time that charles d'arcussia, the last author who wrote a technical work on falconry, after praising his majesty for devoting himself so thoroughly to the divine sport, compared the king's birds to domestic angels, and the carnivorous birds which they destroyed he likened to the devil. from this he argued that the sport was like the angel gabriel destroying the demon asmodeus. he also added, in his dedication to the king, "as the nature of angels is above that of men, so is that of these birds above all other animals." [illustration: fig. .--dress of the falconer (thirteenth century).--sculpture of the cathedral of rouen.] at that time certain religious or rather superstitious ceremonies were in use for blessing the water with which the falcons were sprinkled before hunting, and supplications were addressed to the eagles that they might not molest them. the following words were used: "i adjure you, o eagles! by the true god, by the holy god, by the most blessed virgin mary, by the nine orders of angels, by the holy prophets, by the twelve apostles, &c.... to leave the field clear to our birds, and not to molest them: in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy ghost." it was at this time that, in order to recover a lost bird, the sire de la brizardière, a professional necromancer, proposed beating the owner of the bird with birch-rods until he bled, and of making a charm with the blood, which was reckoned infallible. [illustration: fig. .--diseases of dogs and their cure.--fac-simile of a miniature in the manuscript of phoebus (fourteenth century).] elzéar blaze expressed his astonishment that the ladies should not have used their influence to prevent falconry from falling into disuse. the chase, he considered, gave them an active part in an interesting and animated scene, which only required easy and graceful movements on their part, and to which no danger was attached. "the ladies knowing," he says, "how to fly a bird, how to call him back, and how to encourage him with their voice, being familiar with him from having continually carried him on their wrist, and often even from having broken him in themselves, the honour of hunting belongs to them by right. besides, it brings out to advantage their grace and dexterity as they gallop amongst the sportsmen, followed by their pages and varlets and a whole herd of horses and dogs." the question of precedence and of superiority had, at every period, been pretty evenly balanced between venery and falconry, each having its own staunch supporters. thus, in the "livre du roy modus," two ladies contend in verse (for the subject was considered too exalted to be treated of in simple prose), the one for the superiority of the birds, the other for the superiority of dogs. their controversy is at length terminated by a celebrated huntsman and falconer, who decides in favour of venery, for the somewhat remarkable reason that those who pursue it enjoy oral and ocular pleasure at the same time. in an ancient treatise by gace de la vigne, in which the same question occupies no fewer than ten thousand verses, the king (unnamed) ends the dispute by ordering that in future they shall be termed pleasures of dogs and pleasures of birds, so that there may be no superiority on one side or the other (fig. ). the court-poet, william crétin, who was in great renown during the reigns of louis xii. and francis i., having asked two ladies to discuss the same subject in verse, does not hesitate, on the contrary, to place falconry above venery. [illustration: fig. .--german falconer, designed and engraved, in the sixteenth century, by j. amman.] it may fairly be asserted that venery and falconry have taken a position of some importance in history; and in support of this theory it will suffice to mention a few facts borrowed from the annals of the chase. the king of navarre, charles the bad, had sworn to be faithful to the alliance made between himself and king edward iii. of england; but the english troops having been beaten by du guesclin, charles saw that it was to his advantage to turn to the side of the king of france. in order not to appear to break his oath, he managed to be taken prisoner by the french whilst out hunting, and thus he sacrificed his honour to his personal interests. it was also due to a hunting party that henry iii., another king of navarre, who was afterwards henry iv., escaped from paris, on the rd february, , and fled to senlis, where his friends of the reformed religion came to join him. [illustration: fig. .--heron-hawking.--fac-simile of a miniature in the manuscript of the "livre du roy modus" (fourteenth century).] hunting formed a principal entertainment when public festivals were celebrated, and it was frequently accompanied with great magnificence. at the entry of isabel of bavaria into paris, a sort of stag hunt was performed, when "the streets," according to a popular story of the time, "were full to profusion of hares, rabbits, and goslings." again, at the solemn entry of louis xi. into paris, a representation of a doe hunt took place near the fountain st. innocent; "after which the queen received a present of a magnificent stag, made of confectionery, and having the royal arms hung round its neck." at the memorable festival given at lille, in , by the duke of burgundy, a very curious performance took place. "at one end of the table," says the historian mathieu de coucy, "a heron was started, which was hunted as if by falconers and sportsmen; and presently from the other end of the table a falcon was slipped, which hovered over the heron. in a few minutes another falcon was started from the other side of the table, which attacked the heron so fiercely that he brought him down in the middle of the hall. after the performance was over and the heron was killed, it was served up at the dinner-table." [illustration: fig. .--sport with dogs.--"how the wild boar is hunted by means of dogs."--fac-simile of a miniature in the manuscript of the "livre du roy modus" (fourteenth century).] we shall conclude this chapter with a few words on bird-fowling, a kind of sport which was almost disdained in the middle ages. the anonymous author of the "livre du roy modus" called it, in the fourteenth century, the pastime of the poor, "because the poor, who can neither keep hounds nor falcons to hunt or to fly, take much pleasure in it, particularly as it serves at the same time as a means of subsistence to many of them." in this book, which was for a long time the authority in matters of sport generally, we find that nearly all the methods and contrivances now employed for bird-fowling were known and in use in the middle ages, in addition to some which have since fallen into disuse. we accordingly read in the "roy modus" a description of the drag-net, the mirror, the screech-owl, the bird-pipe (fig. ), the traps, the springs, &c., the use of all of which is now well understood. at that time, when falcons were so much required, it was necessary that people should be employed to catch them when young; and the author of this book speaks of nets of various sorts, and the pronged piece of wood in the middle of which a screech-owl or some other bird was placed in order to attract the falcons (fig. ). [illustration: fig. .--bird-piping.--"the manner of catching birds by piping."--fac-simile of miniature in the manuscript of the "livre du roy modus" (fourteenth century).] two methods were in use in those days for catching the woodcook and pheasant, which deserve to be mentioned. "the pheasants," says "king modus," "are of such a nature that the male bird cannot bear the company of another." taking advantage of this weakness, the plan of placing a mirror, which balanced a sort of wicker cage or coop, was adopted. the pheasant, thinking he saw his fellow, attacked him, struck against the glass and brought down the coop, in which he had leisure to reflect on his jealousy (fig. ). woodcocks, which are, says the author, "the most silly birds," were caught in this way. the bird-fowler was covered from head to foot with clothes of the colour of dead leaves, only having two little holes for his eyes. when he saw one he knelt down noiselessly, and supported his arms on two sticks, so as to keep perfectly still. when the bird was not looking towards him he cautiously approached it on his knees, holding in his hands two little dry sticks covered with red cloth, which he gently waved so as to divert the bird's attention from himself. in this way he gradually got near enough to pass a noose, which he kept ready at the end of a stick, round the bird's neck (fig. ). however ingenious these tricks may appear, they are eclipsed by one we find recorded in the "ixeuticon," a very elegant latin poem, by angelis de barga, written two centuries later. in order to catch a large number of starlings, this author assures us, it is only necessary to have two or three in a cage, and, when a flight of these birds is seen passing, to liberate them with a very long twine attached to their claws. the twine must be covered with bird-lime, and, as the released birds instantly join their friends, all those they come near get glued to the twine and fall together to the ground. [illustration: fig. .--bird-catching with a machine like a long arm.--fac-simile of miniature in the manuscript of the "livre du roy modus" (fourteenth century).] as at the present time, the object of bird-fowling was twofold, namely, to procure game for food and to capture birds to be kept either for their voice or for fancy as pets. the trade in the latter was so important, at least in paris, that the bird-catchers formed a numerous corporation having its statutes and privileges. the pont au change (then covered on each side with houses and shops occupied by goldsmiths and money-changers) was the place where these people carried on their trade; and they had the privilege of hanging their cages against the houses, even without the sanction of the proprietors. this curious right was granted to them by charles vi. in , in return for which they were bound to "provide four hundred birds" whenever a king was crowned, "and an equal number when the queen made her first entry into her good town of paris." the goldsmiths and money-changers, however, finding that this became a nuisance, and that it injured their trade, tried to get it abolished. they applied to the authorities to protect their rights, urging that the approaches to their shops, the rents of which they paid regularly, were continually obstructed by a crowd of purchasers and dealers in birds. the case was brought several times before parliament, which only confirmed the orders of the kings of france and the ancient privileges of the bird-catchers. at the end of the sixteenth century the quarrel became so bitter that the goldsmiths and changers took to "throwing down the cages and birds and trampling them under foot," and even assaulted and openly ill-treated the poor bird-dealers. but a degree of parliament again justified the sale of birds on the pont an change, by condemning the ring-leader, [illustration: fig. .--pheasant fowling.--"showing how to catch pheasants."--fac-simile of a miniature in the manuscript of the "livre du roy modus" (fourteenth century).] pierre filacier, the master goldsmith who had commenced the proceedings against the bird-catchers, to pay a double fine, namely, twenty crowns to the plaintiffs and ten to the king. [illustration: fig. .--the mode of catching a woodcock.--fac-simile of a miniature in the manuscript of the "livre du roy modus" (fourteenth century).] it is satisfactory to observe that at that period measures were taken to preserve nests and to prevent bird-fowling from the th of march to the th of august. besides this, it was necessary to have an express permission from the king himself to give persons the right of catching birds on the king's domains. before any one could sell birds it was required for him to have been received as a master bird-catcher. the recognised bird-catchers, therefore, had no opponents except dealers from other countries, who brought canary-birds, parrots, and other foreign specimens into paris. these dealers were, however, obliged to conform to strict rules. they were required on their arrival to exhibit their birds from ten to twelve o'clock on the marble stone in the palace yard on the days when parliament sat, in order that the masters and governors of the king's aviary, and, after them, the presidents and councillors, might have the first choice before other people of anything they wished to buy. they were, besides, bound to part the male and female birds in separate cages with tickets on them, so that purchasers might not be deceived; and, in case of dispute on this point, some sworn inspectors were appointed as arbitrators. no doubt, emboldened by the victory which they had achieved over the goldsmiths of the pont an change, the bird-dealers of paris attempted to forbid any bourgeois of the town from breeding canaries or any sort of cage birds. the bourgeois resented this, and brought their case before the marshals of france. they urged that it was easy for them to breed canaries, and it was also a pleasure for their wives and daughters to teach them, whereas those bought on the pont an change were old and difficult to educate. this appeal was favourably received, and an order from the tribunal of the marshals of france permitted the bourgeois to breed canaries, but it forbade the sale of them, which it was considered would interfere with the trade of the master-fowlers of the town, faubourgs, and suburbs of paris. [illustration: fig. .--powder-horn.--work of the sixteenth century (artillery museum of brussels).] games and pastimes. games of the ancient greeks and romans.--games of the circus.--animal combats.--daring of king pepin.--the king's lions.--blind men's fights.--cockneys of paris.--champ de mars.--cours plénières and cours couronnées.--jugglers, tumblers, and minstrels.--rope-dancers.--fireworks.--gymnastics.--cards and dice.--chess, marbles, and billiards.--la soule, la pirouette, &c.--small games for private society.--history of dancing.--ballet des ardents.--the "orchésographie" (art of dancing) of thoinot arbeau.--list of dances. people of all countries and at all periods have been fond of public amusements, and have indulged in games and pastimes with a view to make time pass agreeably. these amusements have continually varied, according to the character of each nation, and according to the capricious changes of fashion. since the learned antiquarian, j. meursius, has devoted a large volume to describing the games of the ancient greeks ("de ludis graecorum"), and rabelais has collected a list of two hundred and twenty games which were in fashion at different times at the court of his gay master, it will be easily understood that a description of all the games and pastimes which have ever been in use by different nations, and particularly by the french, would form an encyclopaedia of some size. we shall give a rapid sketch of the different kinds of games and pastimes which were most in fashion during the middle ages and to the end of the sixteenth century--omitting, however, the religious festivals, which belong to a different category; the public festivals, which will come under the chapter on ceremonials; the tournaments and tilting matches and other sports of warriors, which belong to chivalry; and, lastly, the scenic and literary representations, which specially belong to the history of the stage. we shall, therefore, limit ourselves here to giving in a condensed form a few historical details of certain court amusements, and a short description of the games of skill and of chance, and also of dancing. the romans, especially during the times of the emperors, had a passionate love for performances in the circus and amphitheatre, as well as for chariot races, horse races, foot races, combats of animals, and feats of strength and agility. the daily life of the roman people may be summed up as consisting of taking their food and enjoying games in the circus (_panem et circenses_). a taste for similar amusements was common to the gauls as well as to the whole roman empire; and, were historians silent on the subject, we need no further information than that which is to be gathered from the ruins of the numerous amphitheatres, which are to be found at every centre of roman occupation. the circus disappeared on the establishment of the christian religion, for the bishops condemned it as a profane and sanguinary vestige of paganism, and, no doubt, this led to the cessation of combats between man and beast. they continued, however, to pit wild or savage animals against one another, and to train dogs to fight with lions, tigers, bears, and bulls; otherwise it would be difficult to explain the restoration by king chilpéric (a.d. ) of the circuses and arenas at paris and soissons. the remains of one of these circuses was not long ago discovered in paris whilst they were engaged in laying the foundations for a new street, on the west side of the hill of st. geneviève, a short distance from the old palace of the caesars, known by the name of the thermes of julian. gregory of tours states that chilpéric revived the ancient games of the circus, but that gaul had ceased to be famous for good athletes and race-horses, although animal combats continued to take place for the amusement of the kings. one day king pepin halted, with the principal officers of his army, at the abbey of ferrières, and witnessed a fight between a lion and a bull. the bull was of enormous size and extraordinary strength, but nevertheless the lion overcame him; whereupon pepin, who was surnamed the short, turned to his officers, who used to joke him about his short stature, and said to them, "make the lion loose his hold of the bull, or kill him." no one dared to undertake so perilous a task, and some said aloud that the man who would measure his strength with a lion must be mad. upon this, pepin sprang into the arena sword in hand, and with two blows cut off the heads of the lion and the bull. "what do you think of that?" he said to his astonished officers. "am i not fit to be your master? size cannot compare with courage. remember what little david did to the giant goliath." eight hundred years later there were occasional animal combats at the court of francis i. "a fine lady," says brantôme, "went to see the king's lions, in company with a gentleman who much admired her. she suddenly let her glove drop, and it fell into the lions' den. 'i beg of you,' she said, in the calmest way, to her admirer, 'to go amongst the lions and bring me back my glove.' the gentleman made no remark, but, without even drawing his sword, went into the den and gave himself up silently to death to please the lady. the lions did not move, and he was able to leave their den without a scratch and return the lady her missing glove. 'here is your glove, madam,' he coldly said to her who evidently valued his life at so small a price; 'see if you can find any one else who would do the same as i have done for you.' so saying he left her, and never afterwards looked at or even spoke to her." it has been imagined that the kings of france only kept lions as living symbols of royalty. in philippe de valois bought a barn in the rue froidmantel, near the château du louvre, where he established a menagerie for his lions, bears, leopards, and other wild beasts. this royal menagerie still existed in the reigns of charles viii. and francis i. charles v. and his successors had an establishment of lions in the quadrangle of the grand hôtel de st. paul, on the very spot which was subsequently the site of the rue des lions st. paul. these wild beasts were sometimes employed in the combats, and were pitted against bulls and dogs in the presence of the king and his court. it was after one of these combats that charles ix., excited by the sanguinary spectacle, wished to enter the arena alone in order to attack a lion which had torn some of his best dogs to pieces, and it was only with great difficulty that the audacious sovereign was dissuaded from his foolish purpose. henry iii. had no disposition to imitate his brother's example; for dreaming one night that his lions were devouring him, he had them all killed the next day. the love for hunting wild animals, such as the wolf, bear, and boar (see chapter on hunting), from an early date took the place of the animal combats as far as the court and the nobles were concerned. the people were therefore deprived of the spectacle of the combats which had had so much charm for them; and as they could not resort to the alternative of the chase, they treated themselves to a feeble imitation of the games of the circus in such amusements as setting dogs to worry old horses or donkeys, &c. (fig. ). bull-fights, nevertheless, continued in the southern provinces of france, as also in spain. at village feasts not only did wrestling matches take place, but also queer kinds of combats with sticks or birch boughs. two men, blindfolded, each armed with a stick, and holding in his hand a rope fastened to a stake, entered the arena, and went round and round trying to strike at a fat goose or a pig which was also let loose with them. it can easily be imagined that the greater number of the blows fell like hail on one or other of the principal actors in this blind combat, amidst shouts of laughter from the spectators. [illustration: fig. .--fight between a horse and dogs.--fac-simile of a manuscript in the british museum (thirteenth century).] nothing amused our ancestors more than these blind encounters; even kings took part at these burlesque representations. at mid-lent annually they attended with their court at the quinze-vingts, in paris, in order to see blindfold persons, armed from head to foot, fighting with a lance or stick. this amusement was quite sufficient to attract all paris. in , on the last day of august, the inhabitants of the capital crowded their windows to witness the procession of four blind men, clothed in full armour, like knights going to a tournament, and preceded by two men, one playing the hautbois and the other bearing a banner on which a pig was painted. these four champions on the next day attacked a pig, which was to become the property of the one who killed it. the lists were situated in the court of the hôtel d'armagnac, the present site of the palais royal. a great crowd attended the encounter. the blind men, armed with all sorts of weapons, belaboured each other so furiously that the game would have ended fatally to one or more of them had they not been separated and made to divide the pig which they had all so well earned. [illustration: fig. .--merchants and lion-keepers at constantinople.--fac-simile of an engraving on wood from the "cosmographie universelle" of thevet: folio, .] the people of the middle ages had an insatiable love of sight-seeing; they came great distances, from all parts, to witness any amusing exhibition. they would suffer any amount of privation or fatigue to indulge this feeling, and they gave themselves up to it so heartily that it became a solace to them in their greatest sorrows, and they laughed with that hearty laugh which may be said to be one of their natural characteristics. in all public processions in the open air the crowd (or rather, as we might say, the cockneys of paris), in their anxiety to see everything that was to be seen, would frequently obstruct all the public avenues, and so prevent the procession from passing along. in consequence of this the provosts of paris on these occasions distributed hundreds of stout sticks amongst the sergeants, who used them freely on the shoulders of the most obstinate sight-seers (see chapter on ceremonials). there was no religious procession, no parish fair, no municipal feast, and no parade or review of troops, which did not bring together crowds of people, whose ears and eyes were wide open, if only to hear the sound of the trumpet, or to see a "dog rush past with a frying-pan tied to his tail." [illustration: fig. .--free distribution of bread, meat, and wine to the people.--reduced copy of a woodcut of the solemn entry of charles v and pope clement vii into bologna, in .] this curiosity of the french was particularly exhibited when the kings of the first royal dynasty held their _champs de mars_, the kings of the second dynasty their _cours plenières_, and the kings of the third dynasty their _cours couronnées._ in these assemblies, where the king gathered together all his principal vassals once or twice a year, to hold personal communication with them, and to strengthen his power by ensuring their feudal services, large quantities of food and fermented liquors were publicly distributed among the people (fig. ). the populace were always most enthusiastic spectators of military displays, of court ceremonies, and, above all, of the various amusements which royalty provided for them at great cost in those days: and it was on these state occasions that jugglers, tumblers, and minstrels displayed their talents. the _champ de mars_ was one of the principal fêtes of the year, and was held sometimes in the centre of some large town, sometimes in a royal domain, and sometimes in the open country. bishop gregory of tours describes one which was given in his diocese during the reign of chilpéric, at the easter festivals, at which we may be sure that the games of the circus, re-established by chilpéric, excited the greatest interest. charlemagne also held _champs de mars_, but called them _cours royales,_ at which he appeared dressed in cloth of gold studded all over with pearls and precious stones. under the third dynasty king robert celebrated court days with the same magnificence, and the people were admitted to the palace during the royal banquet to witness the king sitting amongst his great officers of state. the _cours plénières_, which were always held at christmas, twelfth-day, easter, and on the day of pentecost, were not less brilliant during the reigns of robert's successors. louis ix. himself, notwithstanding his natural shyness and his taste for simplicity, was noted for the display he made on state occasions. in , philippe de valois wore his crown at the _cours plénières_, and from that time they were called _cours couronnées_. the kings of jugglers were the privileged performers, and their feats and the other amusements, which continued on each occasion for several days, were provided for at the sovereign's sole expense. [illustration: fig. .--feats in balancing.--fac-simile of a miniature in a manuscript in the bodleian library at oxford (thirteenth century).] these kings of jugglers exercised a supreme authority over the art of jugglery and over all the members of this jovial fraternity. it must not be imagined that these jugglers merely recited snatches from tales and fables in rhyme; this was the least of their talents. the cleverest of them played all sorts of musical instruments, sung songs, and repeated by heart a multitude of stories, after the example of their reputed forefather, king borgabed, or bédabie, who, according to these troubadours, was king of great britain at the time that alexander the great was king of macedonia. the jugglers of a lower order especially excelled in tumbling and in tricks of legerdemain (figs. and ). they threw wonderful somersaults, they leaped through hoops placed at certain distances from one another, they played with knives, slings, baskets, brass balls, and earthenware plates, and they walked on their hands with their feet in the air or with their heads turned downwards so as to look through their legs backwards. these acrobatic feats were even practised by women. according to a legend, the daughter of herodias was a renowned acrobat, and on a bas-relief in the cathedral of rouen we find this jewish dancer turning somersaults before herod, so as to fascinate him, and thus obtain the decapitation of john the baptist. [illustration: fig. .--sword-dance to the sound of the bagpipe.--fac-simile of a manuscript in the british museum (fourteenth century).] "the jugglers," adds m. de labédollière, in his clever work on "the private life of the french," "often led about bears, monkeys, and other animals, which they taught to dance or to fight (figs. and ). a manuscript in the national library represents a banquet, and around the table, so as to amuse the guests, performances of animals are going on, such as monkeys riding on horseback, a bear feigning to be dead, a goat playing the harp, and dogs walking on their hind legs." we find the same grotesque figures on sculptures, on the capitals of churches, on the illuminated margins of manuscripts of theology, and on prayer-books, which seems to indicate that jugglers were the associates of painters and illuminators, even if they themselves were not the writers and illuminators of the manuscripts. "jugglery," m. de labédollière goes on to say, "at that time embraced poetry, music, dancing, sleight of hand, conjuring, wrestling, boxing, and the training of animals. its humblest practitioners were the mimics or grimacers, in many-coloured garments, and brazen-faced mountebanks, who provoked laughter at the expense of decency." [illustration: fig. .--jugglers exhibiting monkeys and bears.--fac-simile of a manuscript in the british museum (thirteenth century).] at first, and down to the thirteenth century, the profession of a juggler was a most lucrative one. there was no public or private feast of any importance without the profession being represented. their mimicry and acrobatic feats were less thought of than their long poems or lays of wars and adventures, which they recited in doggerel rhyme to the accompaniment of a stringed instrument. the doors of the châteaux were always open to them, and they had a place assigned to them at all feasts. they were the principal attraction at the _cours plénières_, and, according to the testimony of one of their poets, they frequently retired from business loaded with presents, such as riding-horses, carriage-horses, jewels, cloaks, fur robes, clothing of violet or scarlet cloth, and, above all, with large sums of money. they loved to recall with pride the heroic memory of one of their own calling, the brave norman, taillefer, who, before the battle of hastings, advanced alone on horseback between the two armies about to commence the engagement, and drew off the attention of the english by singing them the song of roland. he then began juggling, and taking his lance by the hilt, he threw it into the air and caught it by the point as it fell; then, drawing his sword, he spun it several times over his head, and caught it in a similar way as it fell. after these skilful exercises, during which the enemy were gaping in mute astonishment, he forced his charger through the english ranks, and caused great havoc before he fell, positively riddled with wounds. notwithstanding this noble instance, not to belie the old proverb, jugglers were never received into the order of knighthood. they were, after a time, as much abused as they had before been extolled. their licentious lives reflected itself in their obscene language. their pantomimes, like their songs, showed that they were the votaries of the lowest vices. the lower orders laughed at their coarseness, and were amused at their juggleries; but the nobility were disgusted with them, and they were absolutely excluded from the presence of ladies and girls in the châteaux and houses of the bourgeoisie. we see in the tale of "le jugleor" that they acquired ill fame everywhere, inasmuch as they were addicted to every sort of vice. the clergy, and st. bernard especially, denounced them and held them up to public contempt. st. bernard spoke thus of them in one of his sermons written in the middle of the twelfth century: "a man fond of jugglers will soon enough possess a wife whose name is poverty. if it happens that the tricks of jugglers are forced upon your notice, endeavour to avoid them, and think of other things. the tricks of jugglers never please god." [illustration: fig. .--equestrian performances.--fac-simile of a miniature in an english manuscript of the thirteenth century.] from this remark we may understand their fall as well as the disrepute in which they were held at that time, and we are not surprised to find in an old edition of the "mémoires du sire de joinville" this passage, which is, perhaps, an interpolation from a contemporary document: "st. louis drove from his kingdom all tumblers and players of sleight of hand, through whom many evil habits and tastes had become engendered in the people." a troubadour's story of this period shows that the jugglers wandered about the country with their trained animals nearly starved; they were half naked, and were often without anything on their heads, without coats, without shoes, and always without money. the lower orders welcomed them, and continued to admire and idolize them for their clever tricks (fig. ), but the bourgeois class, following the example of the nobility, turned their backs upon them. in guillaume de gourmont, provost of paris, forbad their singing or relating obscene stories, under penalty of fine and imprisonment. [illustration: fig. .--jugglers performing in public.--from a miniature of the manuscript of "guarin de loherane" (thirteenth century).--library of the arsenal, paris.] having been associated together as a confraternity since , they lived huddled together in one street of paris, which took the name of _rue des jougleurs_. it was at this period that the church and hospital of st. julian were founded through the exertions of jacques goure, a native of pistoia, and of huet le lorrain, who were both jugglers. the newly formed brotherhood at once undertook to subscribe to this good work, and each member did so according to his means. their aid to the cost of the two buildings was sixty livres, and they were both erected in the rue st. martin, and placed under the protection of st. julian the martyr. the chapel was consecrated on the last sunday in september, , and on the front of it there were three figures, one representing a troubadour, one a minstrel, and one a juggler, each with his various instruments. the bad repute into which jugglers had fallen did not prevent the kings of france from attaching buffoons, or fools, as they were generally called, to their households, who were often more or less deformed dwarfs, and who, to all intents and purposes, were jugglers. they were allowed to indulge in every sort of impertinence and waggery in order to excite the risibility of their masters (figs. and ). these buffoons or fools were an institution at court until the time of louis xiv., and several, such as caillette, triboulet, and brusquet, are better known in history than many of the statesmen and soldiers who were their contemporaries. [illustration: fig. .--dance of fools.--fac-simile of a miniature in manuscript of the thirteenth century in the bodleian library of oxford.] at the end of the fourteenth century the brotherhood of jugglers divided itself into two distinct classes, the jugglers proper and the tumblers. the former continued to recite serious or amusing poetry, to sing love-songs, to play comic interludes, either singly or in concert, in the streets or in the houses, accompanying themselves or being accompanied by all sorts of musical instruments. the tumblers, on the other hand, devoted themselves exclusively to feats of agility or of skill, the exhibition of trained animals, the making of comic grimaces, and tight-rope dancing. [illustration: a court-fool, of the th century. fac-simile of a miniature from a ms. in the bibl. de l'arsenal, th. lat., no .] the art of rope dancing is very ancient; it was patronised by the franks, who looked upon it as a marvellous effort of human genius. the most remarkable rope-dancers of that time were of indian origin. all performers in this art came originally from the east, although they afterwards trained pupils in the countries through which they passed, recruiting themselves chiefly from the mixed tribe of jugglers. according to a document quoted by the learned foncemagne, rope-dancers appeared as early as at the entertainments given at state banquets by the kings of france. but long before that time they are mentioned in the poems of troubadours as the necessary auxiliaries of any feast given by the nobility, or even by the monasteries. from the fourteenth to the end of the sixteenth century they were never absent from any public ceremonial, and it was at the state entries of kings and queens, princes and princesses, that they were especially called upon to display their talents. [illustration: fig. .--court fool.--fac-simile of a woodcut in the "cosmographie universelle" of munster: folio (basle, ).] one of the most extraordinary examples of the daring of these tumblers is to be found in the records of the entry of queen isabel of bavaria into paris, in (see chapter on ceremonials); and, indeed, all the chronicles of the fifteenth century are full of anecdotes of their doings. mathieu de coucy, who wrote a history of the time of charles vii., relates some very curious details respecting a show which took place at milan, and which astonished the whole of europe:--"the duke of milan ordered a rope to be stretched across his palace, about one hundred and fifty feet from the ground, and of equal length. on to this a portuguese mounted, walked straight along, going backwards and forwards, and dancing to the sound of the tambourine. he also hung from the rope with his head downwards, and went through all sorts of tricks. the ladies who were looking on could not help hiding their eyes in their handkerchiefs, from fear lest they should see him overbalance and fall and kill himself." the chronicler of charles xii., jean d'arton, tells us of a not less remarkable feat, performed on the occasion of the obsequies of duke pierre de bourbon, which were celebrated at moulins, in the month of october, , in the presence of the king and the court. "amongst other performances was that of a german tight-rope dancer, named georges menustre, a very young man, who had a thick rope stretched across from the highest part of the tower of the castle of mâcon to the windows of the steeple of the church of the jacobites. the height of this from the ground was twenty-five fathoms, and the distance from the castle to the steeple some two hundred and fifty paces. on two evenings in succession he walked along this rope, and on the second occasion when he started from the tower of the castle his feat was witnessed by the king and upwards of thirty thousand persons. he performed all sorts of graceful tricks, such as dancing grotesque dances to music and hanging to the rope by his feet and by his teeth. although so strange and marvellous, these feats were nevertheless actually performed, unless human sight had been deceived by magic. a female dancer also performed in a novel way, cutting capers, throwing somersaults, and performing graceful moorish and other remarkable and peculiar dances." such was their manner of celebrating a funeral. in the sixteenth century these dancers and tumblers became so numerous that they were to be met with everywhere, in the provinces as well as in the towns. many of them were bohemians or zingari. they travelled in companies, sometimes on foot, sometimes on horseback, and sometimes with some sort of a conveyance containing the accessories of their craft and a travelling theatre. but people began to tire of these sorts of entertainments, the more so as they were required to pay for them, and they naturally preferred the public rejoicings, which cost them nothing. they were particularly fond of illuminations and fireworks, which are of much later origin than the invention of gunpowder; although the saracens, at the time of the crusades, used a greek fire for illuminations, which considerably alarmed the crusaders when they first witnessed its effects. regular fireworks appear to have been invented in italy, where the pyrotechnic art has retained its superiority to this day, and where the inhabitants are as enthusiastic as ever for this sort of amusement, and consider it, in fact, inseparable from every religious, private, or public festival. this italian invention was first introduced into the low countries by the spaniards, where it found many admirers, and it made its appearance in france with the italian artists who established themselves in that country in the reigns of charles viii., louis xii., and francis i. fireworks could not fail to be attractive at the court of the valois, to which catherine de médicis had introduced the manners and customs of italy. the french, who up to that time had only been accustomed to the illuminations of st. john's day and of the first sunday in lent, received those fireworks with great enthusiasm, and they soon became a regular part of the programme for public festivals (fig. ). [illustration: fig. .--fireworks on the water, with an imitation of a naval combat.--fac-simile of an engraving on copper of the "pyrotechnie" of hanzelet le lorrain: to (pont-à-mousson, ).] we have hitherto only described the sports engaged in for the amusement of the spectators; we have still to describe those in which the actors took greater pleasure than even the spectators themselves. these were specially the games of strength and skill as well as dancing, with a notice of which we shall conclude this chapter. there were, besides, the various games of chance and the games of fun and humour. most of the bourgeois and the villagers played a variety of games of agility, many of which have descended to our times, and are still to be found at our schools and colleges. wrestling, running races, the game of bars, high and wide jumping, leap-frog, blind-man's buff, games of ball of all sorts, gymnastics, and all exercises which strengthened the body or added to the suppleness of the limbs, were long in use among the youth of the nobility (figs. and ). the lord of fleuranges, in his memoirs written at the court of francis i., recounts numerous exercises to which he devoted himself during his childhood and youth, and which were then looked upon as a necessary part of the education of chivalry. the nobles in this way acquired a taste for physical exercises, and took naturally to combats, tournaments, and hunting, and subsequently their services in the battle-field gave them plenty of opportunities to gratify the taste thus developed in them. these were not, however, sufficient for their insatiable activity; when they could not do anything else, they played at tennis and such games at all hours of the day; and these pastimes had so much attraction for nobles of all ages that they not unfrequently sacrificed their health in consequence of overtaxing their strength. in the king of castile, philippe le beau, died of pleurisy, from a severe cold which he caught while playing tennis. [illustration: fig. .--somersaults.--fac-simile of a woodcut in "exercises in leaping and vaulting," by a. tuccaro: to (paris, ).] tennis also became the favourite game amongst the bourgeois in the towns, and tennis-courts were built in all parts, of such spacious proportions and so well adapted for spectators, that they were often converted into theatres. their game of billiards resembled the modern one only in name, for it was played on a level piece of ground with wooden balls which were struck with hooked sticks and mallets. it was in great repute in the fourteenth century, for in marshal de boucicault, who was considered one of the best players of his time, won at it six hundred francs (or more than twenty-eight thousand francs of present currency). at the beginning of the following century the duke louis d'orleans ordered _billes et billars_ to be bought for the sum of eleven sols six deniers tournois (about fifteen francs of our money), that he might amuse himself with them. there were several games of the same sort, which were not less popular. skittles; _la soule_ or _soulette_, which consisted of a large ball of hay covered over with leather, the possession of which was contested for by two opposing sides of players; football; open tennis; shuttlecock, &c. it was charles v. who first thought of giving a more serious and useful character to the games of the people, and who, in a celebrated edict forbidding games of chance, encouraged the establishment of companies of archers and bowmen. these companies, to which was subsequently added that of the arquebusiers, outlived political revolutions, and are still extant, especially in the northern provinces of france. [illustration: fig. .--the spring-board.--fac-simile of a woodcut in "exercises in leaping and vaulting," by a. tuccaro: to (paris, ).] at all times and in all countries the games of chance were the most popular, although they were forbidden both by ecclesiastical and royal authority. new laws were continually being enacted against them, and especially against those in which dice were used, though with little avail. "dice shall not be made in the kingdom," says the law of ; and "those who are discovered using them, and frequenting taverns and bad places, will be looked upon as suspicions characters." a law of repeats, "that games with dice be forbidden." nevertheless, though these prohibitions were frequently renewed, people continued to disregard them and to lose much money at such games. the law of is aimed particularly against loaded dice, which must have been contemporary with the origin of dice themselves, for no games ever gave rise to a greater amount of roguery than those of this description. they were, however, publicly sold in spite of all the laws to the contrary; for, in the "dit du mercier," the dealer offers his merchandise thus:-- "j'ay dez de plus, j'ay dez de moins, de paris, de chartres, de rains." ("i have heavy dice, i have light dice, from paris, from chartres, and from rains.") it has been said that the game of dice was at first called the _game of god_, because the regulation of lottery was one of god's prerogatives; but this derivation is purely imaginary. what appears more likely is, that dice were first forbidden by the church, and then by the civil authorities, on account of the fearful oaths which were so apt to be uttered by those players who had a run of ill luck. nothing was commoner than for people to ruin themselves at this game. the poems of troubadours are full of imprecations against the fatal chance of dice; many troubadours, such as guillaume magret and gaucelm faydit, lost their fortunes at it, and their lives in consequence. rutebeuf exclaims, in one of his satires, "dice rob me of all my clothes, dice kill me, dice watch me, dice track me, dice attack me, and dice defy me." the blasphemies of the gamblers did not always remain unpunished. "philip augustus," says bigord, in his latin history of this king, "carried his aversion for oaths to such an extent, that if any one, whether knight or of any other rank, let one slip from his lips in the presence of the sovereign, even by mistake, he was ordered to be immediately thrown into the river." louis xii., who was somewhat less severe, contented himself with having a hole bored with a hot iron through the blasphemer's tongue. [illustration: figs. and .--french cards for a game of piquet, early sixteenth century.--collection of the national library of paris.] the work "on the manner of playing with dice," has handed down to us the technical terms used in these games, which varied as much in practice as in name. they sometimes played with three dice, sometimes with six; different games were also in fashion, and in some the cast of the dice alone decided. the games of cards were also most numerous, but it is not our intention to give the origin of them here. it is sufficient to name a few of the most popular ones in france, which were, flux, prime, sequence, triomphe, piquet, trente-et-un, passe-dix, condemnade, lansquenet, marriage, gay, or j'ai, malcontent, hère, &c. (figs. and ). all these games, which were as much forbidden as dice, were played in taverns as well as at court; and, just as there were loaded dice, so were there also false cards, prepared by rogues for cheating. the greater number of the games of cards formerly did not require the least skill on the part of the players, chance alone deciding. the game of _tables_, however, required skill and calculation, for under this head were comprised all the games which were played on a board, and particularly chess, draughts, and backgammon. the invention of the game of chess has been attributed to the assyrians, and there can be no doubt but that it came from the east, and reached gaul about the beginning of the ninth century, although it was not extensively known till about the twelfth. the annals of chivalry continually speak of the barons playing at these games, and especially at chess. historians also mention chess, and show that it was played with the same zest in the camp of the saracens as in that of the crusaders. we must not be surprised if chess shared the prohibition laid upon dice, for those who were ignorant of its ingenious combinations ranked it amongst games of chance. the council of paris, in , therefore condemned chess for the same reasons as dice, and it was specially forbidden to church people, who had begun to make it their habitual pastime. the royal edict of was equally unjust with regard to this game. "we strictly forbid," says louis ix., "any person to play at dice, tables, or chess." this pious king set himself against these games, which he looked upon as inventions of the devil. after the fatal day of mansorah, in , the king, who was still in egypt with the remnants of his army, asked what his brother, the comte d'anjou, was doing. "he was told," says joinville, "that he was playing at tables with his royal highness gaultier de nemours. the king was highly incensed against his brother, and, though most feeble from the effects of his illness, went to him, and taking the dice and the tables, had them thrown into the sea." nevertheless louis ix. received as a present from the _vieux de la montagne_, chief of the ismalians, a chessboard made of gold and rock crystal, the pieces being of precious metals beautifully worked. it has been asserted, but incorrectly, that this chessboard was the one preserved in the musée de cluny, after having long formed part of the treasures of the kings of france. amongst the games comprised under the name of _tables_, it is sufficient to mention that of draughts, which was formerly played with dice and with the same men as were used for chess; also the game of _honchet_, or _jonchées_, that is, bones or spillikins, games which required pieces or men in the same way as chess, but which required more quickness of hand than of intelligence; and _épingles_, or push-pin, which was played in a similar manner to the _honchets_, and was the great amusement of the small pages in the houses of the nobility. when they had not épingles, honchets, or draughtsmen to play with, they used their fingers instead, and played a game which is still most popular amongst the italian people, called the _morra_, and which was as much in vogue with the ancient romans as it is among the modern italians. it consisted of suddenly raising as many fingers as had been shown by one's adversary, and gave rise to a great amount of amusement among the players and lookers-on. the games played by girls were, of course, different from those in use among boys. the latter played at marbles, _luettes_, peg or humming tops, quoits, _fouquet, merelles_, and a number of other games, many of which are now unknown. the girls, it is almost needless to say, from the earliest times played with dolls. _briche_, a game in which a brick and a small stick was used, were also a favourite. _martiaus_, or small quoits, wolf or fox, blind man's buff, hide and seek, quoits, &c., were all girls' games. the greater part of these amusements were enlivened by a chorus, which all the girls sang together, or by dialogues sung or chanted in unison. [illustration: fig. .--allegorical scene of one of the courts of love in provence--in the first compartment, the god of love, cupid, is sitting on the stump of a laurel-tree, wounding with his darts those who do him homage, the second compartment represents the love vows of men and women.--from the cover of a looking-glass, carved in ivory, of the end of the thirteenth century.] [illustration: the chess-players. after a miniature of "_the three ages of man_", a ms. of the fifteenth century attributed to estienne porchier. (bibl. of m. ambroise firmin-didot.) the scene is laid in one of the saloons of the castle of plessis-les-tours, the residence of louis xi; in the player to the right, the features of the king are recognisable.] if children had their games, which for many generations continued comparatively unchanged, so the dames and the young ladies had theirs, consisting of gallantry and politeness, which only disappeared with those harmless assemblies in which the two sexes vied with each other in urbanity, friendly roguishness, and wit. it would require long antiquarian researches to discover the origin and mode of playing many of these pastimes, such as _des oes, des trois ânes, des accords bigarrés, du jardin madame, de la fricade, du feiseau, de la mick_, and a number of others which are named but not described in the records of the times. the game _à l'oreille,_ the invention of which is attributed to the troubadour guillaume adhémar, the _jeu des valentines,_ or the game of lovers, and the numerous games of forfeits, which have come down to us from the courts of love of the middle ages, we find to be somewhat deprived of their original simplicity in the way they are now played in country-houses in the winter and at village festivals in the summer. but the courts of love are no longer in existence gravely to superintend all these diversions (fig. ). amongst the amusements which time has not obliterated, but which, on the contrary, seem destined to be of longer duration than monuments of stone and brass, we must name dancing, which was certainly one of the principal amusements of society, and which has come down to us through all religions, all customs, all people, and all ages, preserving at the same time much of its original character. dancing appears, at each period of the world's history, to have been alternately religions and profane, lively and solemn, frivolous and severe. though dancing was as common an amusement formerly as it is now, there was this essential difference between the two periods, namely, that certain people, such as the romans, were very fond of seeing dancing, but did not join in it themselves. tiberius drove the dancers out of rome, and domitian dismissed certain senators from their seats in the senate who had degraded themselves by dancing; and there seems to be no doubt that the romans, from the conquest of julius caesar, did not themselves patronise the art. there were a number of professional dancers in gaul, as well as in the other provinces of the roman empire, who were hired to dance at feasts, and who endeavoured to do their best to make their art as popular as possible. the lightheartedness of the gauls, their natural gaiety, their love for violent exercise and for pleasures of all sorts, made them delight in dancing, and indulge in it with great energy; and thus, notwithstanding the repugnance of the roman aristocracy and the prohibitions and anathemas of councils and synods, dancing has always been one of the favourite pastimes of the gauls and the french. [illustration: fig. .--dancers on christmas night punished for their impiety, and condemned to dance for a whole year (legend of the fifteenth century).--fac-simile of a woodcut by p. wohlgemuth, in the "liber chronicorum mundi:" folio (nuremberg, ).] leuce carin, a writer of doubtful authority, states that in the early history of christianity the faithful danced, or rather stamped, in measured time during religions ceremonials, gesticulating and distorting themselves. this is, however, a mistake. the only thing approaching to it was the slight trace of the ancient pagan dances which remained in the feast of the first sunday in lent, and which probably belonged to the religious ceremonies of the druids. at nightfall fires were lighted in public places, and numbers of people danced madly round them. rioting and disorderly conduct often resulted from this popular feast, and the magistrates were obliged to interfere in order to suppress it. the church, too, did not close her eyes to the abuses which this feast engendered, although episcopal admonitions were not always listened to (fig. ). we see, in the records of one of the most recent councils of narbonne, that the custom of dancing in the churches and in the cemeteries on certain feasts had not been abolished in some parts of the languedoc at the end of the sixteenth century. dancing was at all times forbidden by the catholic church on account of its tendency to corrupt the morals, and for centuries ecclesiastical authority was strenuously opposed to it; but, on the other hand, it could not complain of want of encouragement from the civil power. when king childebert, in , forbade all dances in his domains, he was only induced to do so by the influence of the bishops. we have but little information respecting the dances of this period, and it would be impossible accurately to determine as to the justice of their being forbidden. they were certainly no longer those war-dances which the franks had brought with them, and which antiquarians have mentioned under the name of _pyrrhichienne_ dances. in any case, war-dances reappeared at the commencement of chivalry; for, when a new knight was elected, all the knights in full armour performed evolutions, either on foot or on horseback, to the sound of military music, and the populace danced round them. it has been said that this was the origin of court ballets, and la colombière, in his "théâtre d'honneur et de chevalerie," relates that this ancient dance of the knights was kept up by the spaniards, who called it the _moresque_. the middle ages was the great epoch for dancing, especially in france. there were an endless number of dancing festivals, and, from reading the old poets and romancers, one might imagine that the french had never anything better to do than to dance, and that at all hours of the day and night. a curious argument in favour of the practical utility of dancing is suggested by jean tabourot in his "orchésographie," published at langres in , under the name of thoinot arbeau. he says, "dancing is practised in order to see whether lovers are healthy and suitable for one another: at the end of a dance the gentlemen are permitted to kiss their mistresses, in order that they may ascertain if they have an agreeable breath. in this matter, besides many other good results which follow from dancing, it becomes necessary for the good governing of society." such was the doctrine of the courts of love, which stoutly took up the defence of dancing against the clergy. in those days, as soon as the two sexes were assembled in sufficient numbers, before or after the feasts, the balls began, and men and women took each other by the hand and commenced the performance in regular steps (fig. ). the author of the poem of provence, called "flamença," thus allegorically describes these amusements: "youth and gaiety opened the ball, accompanied by their sister bravery; cowardice, confused, went of her own accord and hid herself." the troubadours mention a great number of dances, without describing them; no doubt they were so familiar that they thought a description of them needless. they often speak of the _danse au virlet_, a kind of round dance, during the performance of which each person in turn sang a verse, the chorus being repeated by all. in the code of the courts of love, entitled "arresta amorum," that is, the decrees of love, the _pas de brabant_ is mentioned, in which each gentleman bent his knee before his lady; and also the _danse au chapelet_, at the end of which each dancer kissed his lady. romances of chivalry frequently mention that knights used to dance with the dames and young ladies without taking off their helmets and coats of mail. although this costume was hardly fitted for the purpose, we find, in the romance of "perceforet," that, after a repast, whilst the tables were being removed, everything was prepared for a ball, and that although the knights made no change in their accoutrements, yet the ladies went and made fresh toilettes. "then," says the old novelist, "the young knights and the young ladies began to play their instruments and to have the dance." from this custom may be traced the origin of the ancient gallic proverb, "_après la panse vient la danse_" ("after the feast comes the dance"). sometimes a minstrel sang songs to the accompaniment of the harp, and the young ladies danced in couples and repeated at intervals the minstrel's songs. sometimes the torch-dance was performed; in this each performer bore in his hand a long lighted taper, and endeavoured to prevent his neighbours from blowing it out, which each one tried to do if possible (fig. ). this dance, which was in use up to the end of the sixteenth century at court, was generally reserved for weddings. [illustration: fig. .--peasant dances at the may feasts.--fac-simile of a miniature in a prayer-book of the fifteenth century, in the national library of paris.] [illustration: fig. .--dance by torchlight, a scene at the court of burgundy.--from a painting on wood of , belonging to m. h. casterman, of tournai (belgium).] dancing lost much of its simplicity and harmlessness when masquerades were introduced, these being the first examples of the ballet. these masquerades, which soon after their introduction became passionately indulged in at court under charles vi., were, at first, only allowed during carnival, and on particular occasions called _charivaris_, and they were usually made the pretext for the practice of the most licentious follies. these masquerades had a most unfortunate inauguration by the catastrophe which rendered the madness of charles vi. incurable, and which is described in history under the name of the _burning ballet_. it was on the th of january, , that this ballet made famous the festival held in the royal palace of st. paul in paris, on the occasion of the marriage of one of the maids of honour of queen isabel of bavaria with a gentleman of vermandois. the bride was a widow, and the second nuptials were deemed a fitting occasion for the charivaris. [illustration: fig. .--the burning ballet.--fac-simile of a miniature in the manuscript of the "chroniques" of froissart (fifteenth century), in the national library of paris.] a gentleman from normandy, named hugonin de grensay, thought he could create a sensation by having a dance of wild men to please the ladies. "he admitted to his plot," says froissart, "the king and four of the principal nobles of the court. these all had themselves sewn up in close-fitting linen garments covered with resin on which a quantity of tow was glued, and in this guise they appeared in the middle of the ball. the king was alone, but the other four were chained together. they jumped about like madmen, uttered wild cries, and made all sorts of eccentric gestures. no one knew who these hideous objects were, but the duke of orleans determined to find out, so he took a candle and imprudently approached too near one of the men. the tow caught fire, and the flames enveloped him and the other three who were chained to him in a moment." "they were burning for nearly an hour like torches," says a chronicler. "the king had the good fortune to escape the peril, because the duchesse de berry, his aunt, recognised him, and had the presence of mind to envelop him in her train" (fig. ). such a calamity, one would have thought, might have been sufficient to disgust people with masquerades, but they were none the less in favour at court for many years afterwards; and, two centuries later, the author of the "orchésographie" thus writes on the subject: "kings and princes give dances and masquerades for amusement and in order to afford a joyful welcome to foreign nobles; we also practise the same amusements on the celebration of marriages." in no country in the world was dancing practised with more grace and elegance than in france. foreign dances of every kind were introduced, and, after being remodelled and brought to as great perfection as possible, they were often returned to the countries from which they had been imported under almost a new character. [illustration: fig. .--musicians accompanying the dancing.--fac-simile of a wood engraving in the "orchésographie" of thoinot arbeau (jehan tabourot): to (langres, ).] in , the dances of the béarnais, which were much admired at the court of the comtes de foix, especially those called the _danse mauresque_ and the _danse des sauvages_, were introduced at the court of france, and excited great merriment. so popular did they become, that with a little modification they soon were considered essentially french. the german dances, which were distinguished by the rapidity of their movements, were also thoroughly established at the court of france. italian, milanese, spanish, and piedmontese dances were in fashion in france before the expedition of charles viii. into italy: and when this king, followed by his youthful nobility, passed over the mountains to march to the conquest of naples, he found everywhere in the towns that welcomed him, and in which balls and masquerades were given in honour of his visit, the dance _à la mode de france_, which consisted of a sort of medley of the dances of all countries. some hundreds of these dances have been enumerated in the fifth book of the "pantagruel" of rabelais, and in various humorous works of those who succeeded him. they owed their success to the singing with which they were generally accompanied, or to the postures, pantomimes, or drolleries with which they were supplemented for the amusement of the spectators. a few, and amongst others that of the _five steps_ and that of the _three faces_, are mentioned in the "history of the queen of navarre." [illustration: fig. .--the dance called "la gaillarde."--fac-simile of wood engravings from the "orchésographie" of thoinot arbeau (jehan tabourot): to (langres, ).] dances were divided into two distinct classes--_danses basses_, or common and regular dances, which did not admit of jumping, violent movements, or extraordinary contortions--and the _danses par haut_, which were irregular, and comprised all sorts of antics and buffoonery. the regular french dance was a _basse_ dance, called the _gaillarde_; it was accompanied by the sound of the hautbois and tambourine, and originally it was danced with great form and state. this is the dance which jean tabouret has described; it began with the two performers standing opposite to each other, advancing, bowing, and retiring. "these advancings and retirings were done in steps to the time of the music, and continued until the instrumental accompaniment stopped; then the gentleman made his bow to the lady, took her by the hand, thanked her, and led her to her seat." the _tourdion_ was similar to the _gaillarde_, only faster, and was accompanied with more action. each province of france had its national dance, such as the _bourrée_ of auvergne, the _trioris_ of brittany, the _branles_ of poitou, and the _valses_ of lorraine, which constituted a very agreeable pastime, and one in which the french excelled all other nations. this art, "so ancient, so honourable, and so profitable," to use the words of jean tabourot, was long in esteem in the highest social circles, and the old men liked to display their agility, and the dames and young ladies to find a temperate exercise calculated to contribute to their health as well as to their amusement. the sixteenth century was the great era of dancing in all the courts of europe; but under the valois, the art had more charm and prestige at the court of france than anywhere else. the queen-mother, catherine, surrounded by a crowd of pretty young ladies, who composed what she called her _flying squadron_, presided at these exciting dances. a certain balthazar de beaujoyeux was master of her ballets, and they danced at the castle of blois the night before the duc de guise was assassinated under the eyes of henry iii., just as they had danced at the château of the tuileries the day after st. bartholomew's day. [illustration: fig. .--the game of bob apple, or swinging apple.--manuscript of the fourteenth century, in the british museum.] commerce. state of commerce after the fall of the roman. empire.--its revival under the frankish kings.--its prosperity under charlemagne.--its decline down to the time of the crusaders.--the levant trade of the east.--flourishing state of the towns of provence and languedoc.--establishment of fairs.--fairs of landit, champagne, beaucaire, and lyons.--weights and measures.--commercial flanders. laws of maritime commerce.--consular laws.--banks and bills of exchange.--french. settlements on the coast of africa.--consequences of the discovery of america. "commerce in the middle ages," says m. charles grandmaison, "differed but little from that of a more remote period. it was essentially a local and limited traffic, rather inland than maritime, for long and perilous sea voyages only commenced towards the end of the fifteenth century, or about the time when columbus discovered america." on the fall of the roman empire, commerce was rendered insecure, and, indeed, it was almost completely put a stop to by the barbarian invasions, and all facility of communication between different nations, and even between towns of the same country, was interrupted. in those times of social confusion, there were periods of such poverty and distress, that for want of money commerce was reduced to the simple exchange of the positive necessaries of life. when order was a little restored, and society and the minds of people became more composed, we see commerce recovering its position; and france was, perhaps, the first country in europe in which this happy change took place. those famous cities of gaul, which ancient authors describe to us as so rich and so industrious, quickly recovered their former prosperity, and the friendly relations which were established between the kings of the franks and the eastern empire encouraged the gallic cities in cultivating a commerce, which was at that time the most important and most extensive in the world. marseilles, the ancient phoenician colony, once the rival and then the successor to carthage, was undoubtedly at the head of the commercial cities of france. next to her came arles, which supplied ship-builders and seamen to the fleet of provence; and narbonne, which admitted into its harbour ships from spain, sicily, and africa, until, in consequence of the aude having changed its course, it was obliged to relinquish the greater part of its maritime commerce in favour of montpellier. [illustration: fig. .--view of alexandria in egypt, in the sixteenth century.--fac-simile of a woodcut in the travels of p. belon, "observations de plusieurs singularitez," &c.: to (paris, ).] commerce maintained frequent communications with the east; it sought its supplies on the coast of syria, and especially at alexandria, in egypt, which was a kind of depôt for goods obtained from the rich countries lying beyond the red sea (figs. and ). the frank navigators imported from these countries, groceries, linen, egyptian paper, pearls, perfumes, and a thousand other rare and choice articles. in exchange they offered chiefly the precious metals in bars rather than coined, and it is probable that at this period they also exported iron, wines, oil, and wax. the agricultural produce and manufactures of gaul had not sufficiently developed to provide anything more than what was required for the producers themselves. industry was as yet, if not purely domestic, confined to monasteries and to the houses of the nobility; and even the kings employed women or serf workmen to manufacture the coarse stuffs with which they clothed themselves and their households. we may add, that the bad state of the roads, the little security they offered to travellers, the extortions of all kinds to which foreign merchants were subjected, and above all the iniquitous system of fines and tolls which each landowner thought right to exact, before letting merchandise pass through his domains, all created insuperable obstacles to the development of commerce. [illustration: fig. .--transport of merchandise on the backs of camels.--fac-simile of a woodcut in the "cosmographie universelle," of thevet: folio, .] the frank kings on several occasions evinced a desire that communications favourable to trade should be re-established in their dominions. we find, for instance, chilpéric making treaties with eastern emperors in favour of the merchants of agde and marseilles, queen brunehaut making viaducts worthy of the romans, and which still bear her name, and dagobert opening at st. denis free fairs--that is to say, free, or nearly so, from all tolls and taxes--to which goods, both agricultural and manufactured, were sent from every corner of europe and the known world, to be afterwards distributed through the towns and provinces by the enterprise of internal commerce. after the reign of dagobert, commerce again declined without positively ceasing, for the revolution, which transferred the power of the kings to the mayors of the palace was not of a nature to exhaust the resources of public prosperity; and a charter of proves that the merchants of saxony, england, normandy, and even hungary, still flocked to the fairs of st. denis. under the powerful and administrative hand of charlemagne, the roads being better kept up, and the rivers being made more navigable, commerce became safe and more general; the coasts were protected from piratical incursions; lighthouses were erected at dangerous points, to prevent shipwrecks; and treaties of commerce with foreign nations, including even the most distant, guaranteed the liberty and security of french traders abroad. under the weak successors of this monarch, notwithstanding their many efforts, commerce was again subjected to all sorts of injustice and extortions, and all its safeguards were rapidly destroyed. the moors in the south, and the normans in the north, appeared to desire to destroy everything which came in their way, and already marseilles, in , was taken and pillaged by the greeks. the constant altercations between the sons of louis le débonnaire and their unfortunate father, their jealousies amongst themselves, and their fratricidal wars, increased the measure of public calamity, so that soon, overrun by foreign enemies and destroyed by her own sons, france became a vast field of disorder and desolation. the church, which alone possessed some social influence, never ceased to use its authority in endeavouring to remedy this miserable state of things; but episcopal edicts, papal anathemas, and decrees of councils, had only a partial effect at this unhappy period. at any moment agricultural and commercial operations were liable to be interrupted, if not completely ruined, by the violence of a wild and rapacious soldiery; at every step the roads, often impassable, were intercepted by toll-bars for some due of a vexatious nature, besides being continually infested by bands of brigands, who carried off the merchandise and murdered those few merchants who were so bold as to attempt to continue their business. it was the church, occupied as she was with the interests of civilisation, who again assisted commerce to emerge from the state of annihilation into which it had fallen; and the "peace or truce of god," established in , endeavoured to stop at least the internal wars of feudalism, and it succeeded, at any rate for a time, in arresting these disorders. this was all that could be done at that period, and the church accomplished it, by taking the high hand; and with as much unselfishness as energy and courage, she regulated society, which had been abandoned by the civil power from sheer impotence and want of administrative capability. [illustration: fig. .--trade on the seaports of the levant.--after a miniature in a manuscript of the travels of marco polo (fifteenth century), library of the arsenal of paris.] at all events, thanks to ecclesiastical foresight, which increased the number of fairs and markets at the gates of abbeys and convents, the first step was made towards the general resuscitation of commerce. indeed, the church may be said to have largely contributed to develop the spirit of progress and liberty, whence were to spring societies and nationalities, and, in a word, modern organization. the eastern commerce furnished the first elements of that trading activity which showed itself on the borders of the mediterranean, and we find the ancient towns of provence and languedoc springing up again by the aide of the republics of amalfi, venice, genoa, and pisa, which had become the rich depôts of all maritime trade. at first, as we have already stated, the wares of india came to europe through the greek port of alexandria, or through constantinople. the crusades, which had facilitated the relations with eastern countries, developed a taste in the west for their indigenous productions, gave a fresh vigour to this foreign commerce, and rendered it more productive by removing the stumbling blocks which had arrested its progress (fig. ). the conquest of palestine by the crusaders had first opened all the towns and harbours of this wealthy region to western traders, and many of them were able permanently to establish themselves there, with all sorts of privileges and exemptions from taxes, which were gladly offered to them by the nobles who had transferred feudal power to mussulman territories. ocean commerce assumed from this moment proportions hitherto unknown. notwithstanding the papal bulls and decrees, which forbade christians from having any connection with infidels, the voice of interest was more listened to than that of the church (fig. ), and traders did not fear to disobey the political and religions orders which forbade them to carry arms and slaves to the enemies of the faith. it was easy to foretell, from the very first, that the military occupation of the holy land would not be permanent. in consequence of this, therefore, the nearer the loss of this fine conquest seemed to be, the greater were the efforts made by the maritime towns of the west to re-establish, on a more solid and lasting basis, a commercial alliance with egypt, the country which they selected to replace palestine, in a mercantile point of view. marseilles was the greatest supporter of this intercourse with egypt; and in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries she reached a very high position, which she owed to her shipowners and traders. in the fourteenth century, however, the princes of the house of anjou ruined her like the rest of provence, in the great and fruitless efforts which they made to recover the kingdom of naples; and it was not until the reign of louis xi. that the old phoenician city recovered its maritime and commercial prosperity (fig. ). [illustration: fig. .--merchant vessel in a storm.--fac-simile of a woodcut in the "grand kalendrier et compost des bergers," in folio: printed at troyes, about , by nicolas de rouge.[*] [footnote *: "mortal man, living in the world, is compared to a vessel on perilous seas, bearing rich merchandise, by which, if it can come to harbour, the merchant will be rendered rich and happy. the ship from the commencement to the end of its voyage is in great peril of being lost or taken by an enemy, for the seas are always beset with perils. so is the body of man during its sojourn in the world. the merchandise he bears is his soul, his virtues, and his good deeds. the harbour is paradise, and he who reaches that haven is made supremely rich. the sea is the world, full of vices and sins, and in which all, during their passage through life, are in peril and danger of losing body and soul and of being drowned in the infernal sea, from which god in his grace keep us! amen."] ] [illustration: fig. .--view and plan of marseilles and its harbour, in the sixteenth century.--from a copper-plate in the collection of g. bruin, in folio: "théâtre des citez du monde."] languedoc, depressed, and for a time nearly ruined in the thirteenth century by the effect of the wars of the albigenses, was enabled, subsequently, to recover itself. béziers, agde, narbonne, and especially montpellier, so quickly established important trading connections with all the ports of the mediterranean, that at the end of the fourteenth century consuls were appointed at each of these towns, in order to protect and direct their transmarine commerce. a traveller of the twelfth century, benjamin de tudèle, relates that in these ports, which were afterwards called the stepping stones to the levant, every language in the world might be heard. toulouse was soon on a par with the towns of lower languedoc, and the garonne poured into the markets, not only the produce of guienne, and of the western parts of france, but also those of flanders, normandy, and england. we may observe, however, that bordeaux, although placed in a most advantageous position, at the mouth of the river, only possessed, when under the english dominion, a very limited commerce, principally confined to the export of wines to great britain in exchange for corn, oil, &c. la rochelle, on the same coast, was much more flourishing at this period, owing to the numerous coasters which carried the wines of aunis and saintonge, and the salt of brouage to flanders, the netherlands, and the north of germany. vitré already had its silk manufactories in the fifteenth century, and nantes gave promise of her future greatness as a depôt of maritime commerce. it was about this time also that the fisheries became a new industry, in which bayonne and a few villages on the sea-coast took the lead, some being especially engaged in whaling, and others in the cod and herring fisheries (fig. ). long before this, normandy had depended on other branches of trade for its commercial prosperity. its fabrics of woollen stuffs, its arms and cutlery, besides the agricultural productions of its fertile and well-cultivated soil, each furnished material for export on a large scale. the towns of rouen and caen were especially manufacturing cities, and were very rich. this was the case with rouen particularly, which was situated on the seine, and was at that time an extensive depôt for provisions and other merchandise which was sent down the river for export, or was imported for future internal consumption. already paris, the abode of kings, and the metropolis of government, began to foreshadow the immense development which it was destined to undergo, by becoming the centre of commercial affairs, and by daily adding to its labouring and mercantile population (figs. and ). it was, however, outside the walls of paris that commerce, which needed liberty as well as protection, at first progressed most rapidly. the northern provinces had early united manufacturing industry with traffic, and this double source of local prosperity was the origin of their enormous wealth. ghent and bruges in the low countries, and beauvais and arras, were celebrated for their manufacture of cloths, carpets, and serge, and cambrai for its fine cloths. the artizans and merchants of these industrious cities then established their powerful corporations, whose unwearied energy gave rise to that commercial freedom so favourable to trade. [illustration: fig. . whale-fishing. fac-simile of a woodcut in the "cosmographie universelle" of thevet, in folio: paris, .] more important than the woollen manufactures--for the greater part of the wool used was brought from england--was the manufacture of flax, inasmuch as it encouraged agriculture, the raw material being produced in france. this first flourished in the north-east of france, and spread slowly to picardy, to beauvois, and brittany. the central countries, with the exception of bruges, whose cloth manufactories were already celebrated in the fifteenth century, remained essentially agricultural; and their principal towns were merely depôts for imported goods. the institution of fairs, however, rendered, it is true, this commerce of some of the towns as wide-spread as it was productive. in the middle ages religious feasts and ceremonials almost always gave rise to fairs, which commerce was not slow in multiplying as much as possible. the merchants naturally came to exhibit their goods where the largest concourse of people afforded the greatest promise of their readily disposing of them. as early as the first dynasty of merovingian kings, temporary and periodical markets of this kind existed; but, except at st. denis, articles of local consumption only were brought to them. the reasons for this were, the heavy taxes which were levied by the feudal lords on all merchandise exhibited for sale, and the danger which foreign merchants ran of being plundered on their way, or even at the fair itself. these causes for a long time delayed the progress of an institution which was afterwards destined to become so useful and beneficial to all classes of the community. we have several times mentioned the famous fair of landit, which is supposed to have been established by charlemagne, but which no doubt was a sort of revival of the fairs of st. denis, founded by dagobert, and which for a time had fallen into disuse in the midst of the general ruin which preceded that emperor's reign. this fair of landit was renowned over the whole of europe, and attracted merchants from all countries. it was held in the month of june, and only lasted fifteen days. goods of all sorts, both of home and foreign manufacture, were sold, but the sale of parchment was the principal object of the fair, to purchase a supply of which the university of paris regularly went in procession. on account of its special character, this fair was of less general importance than the six others, which from the twelfth century were held at troyes, provins, lagny-sur-marne, rheims, and bar-sur-aube. these infused so much commercial vitality into the province of champagne, that the nobles for the most part shook off the prejudice which forbad their entering into any sort of trading association. fairs multiplied in the centre and in the south of france simultaneously. those of puy-en-velay, now the capital of the haute-loire, are looked upon as the most ancient, and they preserved their old reputation and attracted a considerable concourse of people, which was also increased by the pilgrimages then made to notre-dame du puy. these fairs, which were more of a religious than of a commercial character, were then of less importance as regards trade than those held at beaucaire. this town rose to great repute in the thirteenth century, and, with the lyons market, became at that time the largest centre of commerce in the southern provinces. placed at the junction of the saóne and the rhône, lyons owed its commercial development to the proximity of marseilles and the towns of italy. its four annual fairs were always much frequented, and when the kings of france transferred to it the privileges of the fairs of champagne, and transplanted to within its walls the silk manufactories formerly established at tours, lyons really became the second city of france. [illustration: fig. .--measurers of corn in paris. fig. .--hay carriers. fac-simile of woodcuts from the "royal orders concerning the jurisdiction of the company of merchants and shrievalty in the city of paris," in small folio goth.: jacques nyverd, .] it may be asserted as an established fact that the gradual extension of the power of the king, produced by the fall of feudalism, was favourable to the extension of commerce. as early as the reign of louis ix. many laws and regulations prove that the kings were alive to the importance of trade. among the chief enactments was one which led to the formation of the harbour of aigues-mortes on the mediterranean; another to the publication of the book of "weights and measures," by etienne boileau, a work in which the ancient statutes of the various trades were arranged and codified; and a third to the enactment made in the very year of this king's death, to guarantee the security of vendors, and, at the same time, to ensure purchasers against fraud. all these bear undoubted witness that an enlightened policy in favour of commerce had already sprung up. philippe le bel issued several prohibitory enactments also in the interest of home commerce and local industry, which louis x. confirmed. philippe le long attempted even to outdo the judicious efforts of louis xi., and tried, though unsuccessfully, to establish a uniformity in the weights and measures throughout the kingdom; a reform, however, which was never accomplished until the revolution of . it is difficult to credit how many different weights and measures were in use at that time, each one varying according to local custom or the choice of the lord of the soil, who probably in some way profited by the confusion which this uncertain state of things must have produced. the fraud and errors to which this led may easily be imagined, particularly in the intercourse between one part of the country and another. the feudal stamp is here thoroughly exhibited; as m. charles de grandmaison remarks, "nothing is fixed, nothing is uniform, everything is special and arbitrary, settled by the lord of the soil by virtue of his right of _justesse_, by which he undertook the regulation and superintendence of the weights and measures in use in his lordship." measures of length and contents often differed much from one another, although they might be similarly named, and it would require very complicated comparative tables approximately to fix their value. the _pied de roi_ was from ten to twelve inches, and was the least varying measure. the fathom differed much in different parts, and in the attempt to determine the relations between the innumerable measures of contents which we find recorded--a knowledge of which must have been necessary for the commerce of the period--we are stopped by a labyrinth of incomprehensible calculations, which it is impossible to determine with any degree of certainty. the weights were more uniform and less uncertain. the pound was everywhere in use, but it was not everywhere of the same standard (fig. ). for instance, at paris it weighed sixteen ounces, whereas at lyons it only weighed fourteen; and in weighing silk fifteen ounces to the pound was the rule. at toulouse and in upper languedoc the pound was only thirteen and a half ounces; at marseilles, thirteen ounces; and at other places it even fell to twelve ounces. there was in paris a public scale called _poids du roi_; but this scale, though a most important means of revenue, was a great hindrance to retail trade. in spite of these petty and irritating impediments, the commerce of france extended throughout the whole world. [illustration: fig. .--view of lubeck and its harbour (sixteenth century).--from a copper-plate in the work of p. bertius, "commentaria rerum germanicarum," in to: amsterdam, .] the compass--known in italy as early as the twelfth century, but little used until the fourteenth--enabled the mercantile navy to discover new routes, and it was thus that true maritime commerce may be said regularly to have begun. the sailors of the mediterranean, with the help of this little instrument, dared to pass the straits of gibraltar, and to venture on the ocean. from that moment commercial intercourse, which had previously only existed by land, and that with great difficulty, was permanently established between the northern and southern harbours of europe. flanders was the central port for merchant vessels, which arrived in great numbers from the mediterranean, and bruges became the principal depôt. the teutonic league, the origin of which dates from the thirteenth century, and which formed the most powerful confederacy recorded in history, also sent innumerable vessels from its harbours of lubeck (fig. ) and hamburg. these carried the merchandise of the northern countries into flanders, and this rich province, which excelled in every branch of industry, and especially in those relating to metals and weaving, became the great market of europe (fig. ). the commercial movement, formerly limited to the shores of the mediterranean, extended to all parts, and gradually became universal. the northern states shared in it, and england, which for a long time kept aloof from a stage on which it was destined to play the first part, began to give indications of its future commercial greatness. the number of transactions increased as the facility for carrying them on became greater. consumption being extended, production progressively followed, and so commerce went on gaining strength as it widened its sphere. everything, in fact, seemed to contribute to its expansion. the downfall of the feudal system and the establishment in each country of a central power, more or less strong and respected, enabled it to extend its operations by land with a degree of security hitherto unknown; and, at the same time, international legislation came in to protect maritime trade, which was still exposed to great dangers. the sea, which was open freely to the whole human race, gave robbers comparatively easy means of following their nefarious practices, and with less fear of punishment than they could obtain on the shore of civilised countries. for this reason piracy continued its depredations long after the enactment of severe laws for its suppression. this maritime legislation did not wait for the sixteenth century to come into existence. maritime law was promulgated more or less in the twelfth century, but the troubles and agitations which weakened and disorganized empires during that period of the middle ages, deprived it of its power and efficiency. the _code des rhodiens_ dates as far back as ; the _code de la mer_, which became a sort of recognised text-book, dates from the same period; the _lois d'oléron_ is anterior to the twelfth century, and ruled the western coasts of france, being also adopted in flanders and in england; venice dated her most ancient law on maritime rights from , and the statutes of marseilles date from . [illustration: fig. .--execution of the celebrated pirate stoertebeck and his seventy accomplices, in , at hamburg.--from a popular picture of the end of the sixteenth century (hamburg library).] the period of the establishment of commercial law and justice corresponds with that of the introduction of national and universal codes of law and consular jurisdiction. these may be said to have originated in the sixth century in the laws of the visigoths, which empowered foreign traders to be judged by delegates from their own countries. the venetians had consuls in the greek empire as early as the tenth century, and we may fairly presume that the french had consuls in palestine during the reign of charlemagne. in the thirteenth century the towns of italy had consular agents in france; and marseilles had them in savoy, in arles, and in genoa. thus traders of each country were always sure of finding justice, assistance, and protection in all the centres of european commerce. numerous facilities for barter were added to these advantages. merchants, who at first travelled with their merchandise, and who afterwards merely sent a factor as their representative, finally consigned it to foreign agents. communication by correspondence in this way became more general, and paper replaced parchment as being less rare and less expensive. the introduction of arabic figures, which were more convenient than the roman numerals for making calculations, the establishment of banks, of which the most ancient was in operation in venice as early as the twelfth century, the invention of bills of exchange, attributed to the jews, and generally in use in the thirteenth century, the establishment of insurance against the risks and perils of sea and land, and lastly, the formation of trading companies, or what are now called partnerships, all tended to give expansion and activity to commerce, whereby public and private wealth was increased in spite of obstacles which routine, envy, and ill-will persistently raised against great commercial enterprises. for a long time the french, through indolence or antipathy--for it was more to their liking to be occupied with arms and chivalry than with matters of interest and profit--took but a feeble part in the trade which was carried on so successfully on their own territory. the nobles were ashamed to mix in commerce, considering it unworthy of them, and the bourgeois, for want of liberal feeling and expansiveness in their ideas, were satisfied with appropriating merely local trade. foreign commerce, even of the most lucrative description, was handed over to foreigners, and especially to jews, who were often banished from the kingdom and as frequently ransomed, though universally despised and hated. notwithstanding this, they succeeded in rising to wealth under the stigma of shame and infamy, and the immense gains which they realised by means of usury reconciled them to, and consoled them for, the ill-treatment to which they were subjected. [illustration: fig. .--discovery of america, th of may, .--columbus erects the cross and baptizes the isle of guanahani (now cat island, one of the bahamas) by the christian name of st. salvador.--from a stamp engraved on copper by th. de bry, in the collection of "grands voyages," in folio, .] at a very early period, and especially when the jews had been absolutely expelled, the advantage of exclusively trading with and securing the rich profits from france had attracted the italians, who were frequently only jews in disguise, concealing themselves as to their character under the generic name of lombards. it was under this name that the french kings gave them on different occasions various privileges, when they frequented the fairs of champagne and came to establish themselves in the inland and seaport towns. these italians constituted the great corporation of money-changers in paris, and hoarded in their coffers all the coin of the kingdom, and in this way caused a perpetual variation in the value of money, by which they themselves benefited. in the sixteenth century the wars of italy rather changed matters, and we find royal and important concessions increasing in favour of castilians and other spaniards, whom the people maliciously called _negroes_, and who had emigrated in order to engage in commerce and manufactures in saintonge, normandy, burgundy, agenois, and languedoc. about the time of louis xi., the french, becoming more alive to their true interests, began to manage their own affairs, following the suggestions and advice of the king, whose democratic instincts prompted him to encourage and favour the bourgeois. this result was also attributable to the state of peace and security which then began to exist in the kingdom, impoverished and distracted as it had been by a hundred years of domestic and foreign warfare. from to factories and warehouses were founded by norman navigators on the western coast of africa, in senegal and guinea. numerous fleets of merchantmen, of great size for those days, were employed in transporting cloth, grain of all kinds, knives, brandy, salt, and other merchandise, which were bartered for leather, ivory, gum, amber, and gold dust. considerable profits were realised by the shipowners and merchants, who, like jacques coeur, employed ships for the purpose of carrying on these large and lucrative commercial operations. these facts sufficiently testify the condition of france at this period, and prove that this, like other branches of human industry, was arrested in its expansion by the political troubles which followed in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. fortunately these social troubles were not universal, and it was just at the period when france was struggling and had become exhausted and impoverished that the portuguese extended their discoveries on the same coast of africa, and soon after succeeded in rounding the cape of good hope, and opening a new maritime road to india, a country which was always attractive from the commercial advantages which it offered. some years after, christopher columbus, the genoese, more daring and more fortunate still, guided by the compass and impelled by his own genius, discovered a new continent, the fourth continent of the world (fig. ). this unexpected event, the greatest and most remarkable of the age, necessarily enlarged the field for produce as well as for consumption to an enormous extent, and naturally added, not only to the variety and quantity of exchangeable wares, but also to the production of the precious metals, and brought about a complete revolution in the laws of the whole civilised world. maritime commerce immediately acquired an extraordinary development, and merchants, forsaking the harbours of the mediterranean, and even those of the levant, which then seemed to them scarcely worthy of notice, sent their vessels by thousands upon the ocean in pursuit of the wonderful riches of the new world. the day of caravans and coasting had passed; venice had lost its splendour; the sway of the mediterranean was over; the commerce of the world was suddenly transferred from the active and industrious towns of that sea, which had so long monopolized it, to the western nations, to the portuguese and spaniards first, and then to the dutch and english. france, absorbed in, and almost ruined by civil war, and above all by religious dissensions, only played a subordinate part in this commercial and pacific revolution, although it has been said that the sailors of dieppe and honfleur really discovered america before columbus. nevertheless the kings of france, louis xii., francis i., and henry ii., tried to establish and encourage transatlantic voyages, and to create, in the interest of french commerce, colonies on the coasts of the new world, from florida and virginia to canada. but these colonies had but a precarious and transitory existence; fisheries alone succeeded, and french commerce continued insignificant, circumscribed, and domestic, notwithstanding the increasing requirements of luxury at court. this luxury contented itself with the use of the merchandise which arrived from the low countries, spain, and italy. national industry did all in its power to surmount this ignominious condition; she specially turned her attention to the manufacture of silks and of stuffs tissued with gold and silver. the only practical attempt of the government in the sixteenth century to protect commerce and manufactures was to forbid the import of foreign merchandise, and to endeavour to oppose the progress of luxury by rigid enactments. certainly the government of that time little understood the advantages which a country derived from commerce when it forbade the higher classes from engaging in mercantile pursuits under penalty of having their privileges of nobility withdrawn from them. in the face of the examples of italy, genoa, venice, and especially of florence, where the nobles were all traders or sons of traders, the kings of the line of valois thought proper to make this enactment. the desire seemed to be to make the merchant class a separate class, stationary, and consisting exclusively of bourgeois, shut up in their counting-houses, and prevented in every way from participating in public life. the merchants became indignant at this banishment, and, in order to employ their leisure, they plunged with all their energy into the sanguinary struggles of reform and of the league. [illustration: fig. .--medal to commemorate the association of the merchants of the city of rouen.] it was not until the reign of henry iv. that they again confined themselves to their occupations as merchants, when sully published the political suggestions of his master for renewing commercial prosperity. from this time a new era commenced in the commercial destiny of france. commerce, fostered and protected by statesmen, sought to extend its operations with greater freedom and power. companies were formed at paris, marseilles, lyons, and rouen to carry french merchandise all over the world, and the rules of the mercantile associations, in spite of the routine and jealousies which guided the trade corporations, became the code which afterwards regulated commerce (fig. ). [illustration: fig. .--standard weight in brass of the fish-market at mans: sign of the syren (end of the sixteenth century).] guilds and trade corporations. uncertain origin of corporations.--ancient industrial associations.--the germanic guild.--colleges.--teutonic associations.--the paris company for the transit of merchandise by water.--corporations properly so called.--etienne boileau's "book of trades," or the first code of regulations.--the laws governing trades.--public and private organization of trade corporations and other communities.--energy of the corporations.--masters, journeymen, supernumeraries, and apprentices.--religious festivals and trade societies.--trade unions. learned authorities have frequently discussed, without agreeing, on the question of the origin of the corporations of the middle ages. it may be admitted, we think _à priori_, that associations of artisans were as ancient as the trades themselves. it may readily be imagined that the numerous members of the industrial classes, having to maintain and defend their common rights and common interests, would have sought to establish mutual fraternal associations among themselves. the deeper we dive into ancient history the clearer we perceive traces, more or less distinct, of these kinds of associations. to cite only two examples, which may serve to some extent as an historical parallel to the analogous institutions of the present day, we may mention the roman _colleges_, which were really leagues of artisans following the same calling; and the scandinavian guilds, whose object was to assimilate the different branches of industry and trade, either of a city or of some particular district. indeed, brotherhoods amongst the labouring classes always existed under the german conquerors from the moment when europe, so long divided into roman provinces, shook off the yoke of subjection to rome, although she still adhered to the laws and customs of the nation which had held her in subjection for so many generations. we can, however, only regard the few traces which remain of these brotherhoods as evidence of their having once existed, and not as indicative of their having been in a flourishing state. in the fifth century, the hermit ampelius, in his "legends of the saints," mentions _consuls_ or chiefs of locksmiths. the corporation of goldsmiths is spoken of as existing in the first dynasty of the french kings. bakers are named collectively in in the laws of dagobert, which seems to show that they formed a sort of trade union at that remote period. we also see charlemagne, in several of his statutes, taking steps in order that the number of persons engaged in providing food of different kinds should everywhere be adequate to provide for the necessities of consumption, which would tend to show a general organization of that most important branch of industry. in lombardy colleges of artisans were established at an early period, and were, no doubt, on the model of the roman ones. ravenna, in , possessed a college of fishermen; and ten years later the records of that town mention a _chief of the corporation of traders_, and, in , a _chief of the corporation of butchers_. france at the same time kept up a remembrance of the institutions of roman gaul, and the ancient colleges of trades still formed associations and companies in paris and in the larger towns. in king philip i. granted certain privileges to master chandlers and oilmen. the ancient customs of the butchers are mentioned as early as the time of louis vii., . the same king granted to the wife of ives laccobre and her heirs the collectorship of the dues which were payable by tanners, purse-makers, curriers, and shoemakers. under philip augustus similar concessions became more frequent, and it is evident that at that time trade was beginning to take root and to require special and particular administration. this led to regulations being drawn up for each trade, to which philip augustus gave his sanction. in he confirmed the statutes of the butchers, and the furriers and drapers also obtained favourable concessions from him. according to the learned augustin thierry, corporations, like civic communities, were engrafted on previously existing guilds, such as on the colleges or corporations of workmen, which were of roman origin. in the _guild_, which signifies a banquet at common expense, there was a mutual assurance against misfortunes and injuries of all sorts, such as fire and shipwreck, and also against all lawsuits incurred for offences and crimes, even though they were proved against the accused. each of these associations was placed under the patronage of a god or of a hero, and had its compulsory statutes; each had its chief or president chosen from among the members, and a common treasury supplied by annual contributions. roman colleges, as we have already stated, were established with a more special purpose, and were more exclusively confined to the peculiar trade to which they belonged; but these, equally with the guilds, possessed a common exchequer, enjoyed equal rights and privileges, elected their own presidents, and celebrated in common their sacrifices, festivals, and banquets. we have, therefore, good reason for agreeing in the opinion of the celebrated historian, who considers that in the establishment of a corporation "the guild should be to a certain degree the motive power, and the roman college, with its organization, the material which should be used to bring it into existence." [illustration: fig. .--craftsmen in the fourteenth century--fac-simile of a miniature of a manuscript in the library of brussels.] it is certain, however, that during several centuries corporations were either dissolved or hidden from public notice, for they almost entirely disappeared from the historic records during the partial return to barbarism, when the production of objects of daily necessity and the preparation of food were entrusted to slaves under the eye of their master. not till the twelfth century did they again begin to flourish, and, as might be supposed, it was italy which gave the signal for the resuscitation of the institutions whose birthplace had been rome, and which barbarism had allowed to fall into decay. brotherhoods of artisans were also founded at an early period in the north of gaul, whence they rapidly spread beyond the rhine. under the emperor henry i., that is, during the tenth century, the ordinary condition of artisans in germany was still serfdom; but two centuries later the greater number of trades in most of the large towns of the empire had congregated together in colleges or bodies under the name of unions (_einnungen_ or _innungen_) (fig. ), as, for example, at gozlar, at würzburg, at brunswick, &c. these colleges, however, were not established without much difficulty and without the energetic resistance of the ruling powers, inasmuch as they often raised their pretensions so high as to wish to substitute their authority for the senatorial law, and thus to grasp the government of the cities. the thirteenth century witnessed obstinate and sanguinary feuds between these two parties, each of which was alternately victorious. whichever had the upper hand took advantage of the opportunity to carry out the most cruel reprisals against its defeated opponents. the emperors frederick ii. and henry vii. tried to put an end to these strifes by abolishing the corporations of workmen, but these powerful associations fearlessly opposed the imperial authority. in france the organization of communities of artisans, an organization which in many ways was connected with the commercial movement, but which must not be confounded with it, did not give rise to any political difficulty. it seems not even to have met with any opposition from the feudal powers, who no doubt found it an easy pretext for levying additional rates and taxes. the most ancient of these corporations was the parisian _hanse_, or corporation of the bourgeois for canal navigation, which probably dates its origin back to the college of parisian _nautes_, existing before the roman conquest. this mercantile association held its meetings in the island of lutetia, on the very spot where the church of notre-dame was afterwards built. from the earliest days of monarchy tradesmen constituted entirely the bourgeois of the towns (fig. ). above them were the nobility or clergy, beneath them the artisans. hence we can understand how the bourgeois, who during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries were a distinct section of the community, became at last the important commercial body itself. the kings invariably treated them with favour. louis vi. granted them new rights, louis vii. confirmed their ancient privileges, and philip augustus increased them. the parisian hanse succeeded in monopolising all the commerce which was carried on by water on the seine and the yonne between mantes and auxerre. no merchandise coming up or down the stream in boats could be disembarked in the interior of paris without becoming, as it were, the property of the corporation, which, through its agents, superintended its measurement and its sale in bulk, and, up to a certain point, its sale by retail. no foreign merchant was permitted to send his goods to paris without first obtaining _lettres de hanse_, whereby he had associated with him a bourgeois of the town, who acted as his guarantee, and who shared in his profits. [illustration: fig. .--merchants or tradesmen of the fourteenth century.--fac-simile of a miniature in a manuscript of the library at brussels.] there were associations of the same kind in most of the commercial towns situated on the banks of rivers and on the sea-coast, as, for example, at rouen, arles, marseilles, narbonne, toulouse, ratisbon, augsburg, and utrecht. sometimes neighbouring towns, such as the great manufacturing cities of flanders, agreed together and entered into a leagued bond, which gave them greater power, and constituted an offensive and defensive compact (fig. ). a typical example of this last institution is that of the commercial association of the _hanseatic towns_ of germany, which were grouped together to the number of eighty around their four capitals, viz., lubeck, cologne, dantzic, and brunswick. [illustration: fig. .--seal of the united trades of ghent (end of the fifteenth century).] although, as we have already seen, previous to the thirteenth century many of the corporations of artisans had been authorised by several of the kings of france to make special laws whereby they might govern themselves, it was really only from the reign of st. louis that the first general measures of administration and police relating to these communities can be dated. the king appointed etienne boileau, a rich bourgeois, provost of the capital in , to set to work to establish order, wise administration, and "good faith" in the commerce of paris. to this end he ascertained from the verbal testimony of the senior members of each corporation the customs and usages of the various crafts, which for the most part up to that time had not been committed to writing. he arranged and probably amended them in many ways, and thus composed the famous "book of trades," which, as m. depping, the able editor of this valuable compilation, first published in , says, "has the advantage of being to a great extent the genuine production of the corporations themselves, and not a list of rules established and framed by the municipal or judicial authorities." from that time corporations gradually introduced themselves into the order of society. the royal decrees in their favour were multiplied, and the regulations with regard to mechanical trades daily improved, not only in paris and in the provinces, and also abroad, both in the south and in the north of europe, especially in italy, germany, england, and the low countries (figs. to ). etienne boileau's "book of trades" contained the rules of one hundred different trade associations. it must be observed, however, that several of the most important trades, such as the butchers, tanners, glaziers, &c., were omitted, either because they neglected to be registered at the châtelet, where the inquiry superintended by boileau was made, or because some private interest induced them to keep aloof from this registration, which probably imposed some sort of fine and a tax upon them. in the following century the number of trade associations considerably increased, and wonderfully so during the reigns of the last of the valois and the first of the bourbons. the historian of the antiquities of paris, henry sauval, enumerated no fewer than fifteen hundred and fifty-one trade associations in the capital alone in the middle of the seventeenth century. it must be remarked, however, that the societies of artisans were much subdivided owing to the simple fact that each craft could only practise its own special work. thus, in boileau's book, we find four different corporations of _patenôtriers_, or makers of chaplets, six of hatters, six of weavers, &c. besides these societies of artisans, there were in paris a few privileged corporations, which occupied a more important position, and were known under the name of _corps des marchands_. their number at first frequently varied, but finally it was settled at six, and they were termed _les six corps_. they comprised the drapers, which always took precedence of the five others, the grocers, the mercers, the furriers, the hatters, and the goldsmiths. these five for a long time disputed the question of precedence, and finally they decided the matter by lot, as they were not able to agree in any other way. [illustration: fig. .--seal of the corporation of carpenters of st. trond (belgium)--from an impression preserved in the archives of that town ( ).] [illustration: fig. .--seal of the corporation of shoemakers of st. trond, from a map of , preserved in the archives of that town.] [illustration: fig. .--seal of the corporation of wool-weavers of hasselt (belgium), from a parchment title-deed of june , .] [illustration: fig. .--seal of the corporation of clothworkers of bruges ( ).--from an impression preserved in the archives of that town.] [illustration: fig. .--seal of the corporation of fullers of st. trond (about ).--from an impression preserved in the archives of that town.] [illustration: fig. .--seal of the corporation of joiners of bruges ( ).--from an impression preserved in the archives of that town.] [illustration: fig. .--token of the corporation of carpenters of maestricht.] [illustration: fig. .--token of the corporation of carpenters of antwerp.] [illustration: fig. .--funeral token of the corporation of carpenters of maestricht.] trades. fac-simile of engravings on wood, designed and engraved by j. amman, in the sixteenth century. [illustration: fig. .--cloth-worker.] [illustration: fig. .--tailor.] [illustration: fig. .--hatter.] [illustration: fig. .--dyer.] [illustration: fig. .--druggist] [illustration: fig. .--barber] [illustration: fig. .--goldsmith] [illustration: fig. .--goldbeater] [illustration: fig. .--pin and needle maker.] [illustration: fig. .--clasp-maker.] [illustration: fig. .--wire-worker.] [illustration: fig. .--dice-maker.] [illustration: fig. .--sword-maker.] [illustration: fig. .--armourer.] [illustration: fig. .--spur-maker.] [illustration: fig. .--shoemaker.] [illustration: fig. .--basin-maker.] [illustration: fig. .--tinman.] [illustration: fig. .--coppersmith.] [illustration: fig. .--bell and cannon caster.] apart from the privilege which these six bodies of merchants exclusively enjoyed of being called upon to appear, though at their own expense, in the civic processions and at the public ceremonials, and to carry the canopy over the heads of kings, queens, or princes on their state entry into the capital (fig. ), it would be difficult to specify the nature of the privileges which were granted to them, and of which they were so jealous. it is clear, however, that these six bodies were imbued with a kind of aristocratic spirit which made them place trading much above handicraft in their own class, and set a high value on their calling as merchants. thus contemporary historians tell us that any merchant who compromised the dignity of the company "fell into the class of the lower orders;" that mercers boasted of excluding from their body the upholsterers, "who were but artisans;" that hatters, who were admitted into the _six corps_ to replace one of the other trades, became in consequence "merchants instead of artisans, which they had been up to that time." notwithstanding the statutes so carefully compiled and revised by etienne boileau and his successors, and in spite of the numerous arbitrary rules which the sovereigns, the magistrates, and the corporations themselves strenuously endeavoured to frame, order and unity were far from governing the commerce and industry of paris during the middle ages, and what took place in paris generally repeated itself elsewhere. serious disputes continually arose between the authorities and those amenable to their jurisdiction, and between the various crafts themselves, notwithstanding the relation which they bore to each other from the similarity of their employments. in fact in this, as in many other matters, social disorder often emanated from the powers whose duty it was in the first instance to have repressed it. thus, at the time when philip augustus extended the boundaries of his capital so as to include the boroughs in it, which until then had been separated from the city, the lay and clerical lords, under whose feudal dominion those districts had hitherto been placed, naturally insisted upon preserving all their rights. so forcibly did they do this that the king was obliged to recognise their claims; and in several boroughs, including the bourg l'abbé, the beau bourg, the bourg st. germain, and the bourg auxerrois, &c., there were trade associations completely distinct from and independent of those of ancient paris. if we simply limit our examination to that of the condition of the trade associations which held their authority immediately from royalty, we still see that the causes of confusion were by no means trifling; for the majority of the high officers of the crown, acting as delegates of the royal authority, were always disputing amongst themselves the right of superintending, protecting, judging, punishing, and, above all, of exacting tribute from the members of the various trades. the king granted to various officers the privilege of arbitrarily disposing of the freedom of each trade for their own profit, and thereby gave them power over all the merchants and craftsmen who were officially connected with them, not only in paris, but also throughout the whole kingdom. thus the lord chamberlain had jurisdiction over the drapers, mercers, furriers, shoemakers, tailors, and other dealers in articles of wearing apparel; the barbers were governed by the king's varlet and barber; the head baker was governor over the bakers; and the head butler over the wine merchants. [illustration: fig. .--group of goldsmiths preceding the _chasse de st. marcel_ in the reign of louis xiii.--from a copper-plate of the period (cabinet of stamps in the national library of paris).] these state officers granted freedoms to artisans, or, in other words, they gave them the right to exercise such and such a craft with assistants or companions, exacting for the performance of this trifling act a very considerable tax. and, as they preferred receiving their revenues without the annoyance of having direct communication with their humble subjects, they appointed deputies, who were authorised to collect them in their names. the most celebrated of these deputies were the _rois des merciers_, who lived on the fat of the land in complete idleness, and who were surrounded by a mercantile court, which appeared in all its splendour at the trade festivals. [illustration: fig. .--banner of the corporation of the united boot and shoe makers of issoudun.] the great officers of the crown exercised in their own interests, and without a thought for the public advantage, a complete magisterial jurisdiction over all crafts; they adjudicated in disputes arising between masters and men, decided quarrels, visited, either personally or through their deputies, the houses of the merchants, in order to discover frauds or infractions in the rules of the trade, and levied fines accordingly. we must remember that the collectors of court dues had always to contend for the free exercise of their jurisdiction against the provost of paris, who considered their acquisitions of authority as interfering with his personal prerogatives, and who therefore persistently opposed them on all occasions. for instance, if the head baker ordered an artisan of the same trade to be imprisoned in the châtelet, the high provost, who was governor of the prison, released him immediately; and, in retaliation, if the high provost punished a baker, the chief baker warmly espoused his subordinate's cause. at other times the artisans, if they were dissatisfied with the deputy appointed by the great officer of the crown, whose dependents they were, would refuse to recognise his authority. in this way constant quarrels and interminable lawsuits occurred, and it is easy to understand the disorder which must have arisen from such a state of things. by degrees, however, and in consequence of the new tendencies of royalty, which were simply directed to the diminution of feudal power, the numerous jurisdictions relating to the various trades gradually returned to the hand of the municipal provostship; and this concentration of power had the best results, as well for the public good as for that of the corporations themselves. having examined into corporations collectively and also into their general administration, we will now turn to consider their internal organization. it was only after long and difficult struggles that these trade associations succeeded in taking a definite and established position; without, however, succeeding at any time in organizing themselves as one body on the same basis and with the same privileges. therefore, in pointing out the influential character of these institutions generally, we must omit various matters specially connected with individual associations, which it would be impossible to mention in this brief sketch. in the fourteenth century, the period when the communities of crafts were at the height of their development and power, no association of artisans could legally exist without a license either from the king, the lord, the prince, the abbot, the bailiff, or the mayor of the district in which it proposed to establish itself. [illustration: fig. .--banner of the tilers of paris, with the armorial bearings of the corporation.] [illustration: fig. .--banner of the nail-makers of paris, with armorial bearings of the corporation.] [illustration: fig. .--banner of the harness-makers of paris, with the armorial bearings of the corporation.] [illustration: fig. .--banner of the wheelwrights of paris, with the armoral bearings of the corporation.] [illustration: fig. .--banner of the tanners of vie, with the patron saint of the corporation.] [illustration: fig. .--banner of the weavers of poulon, with the patron saint of the corporation.] these communities had their statutes and privileges; they were distinguished at public ceremonials by their _liveries_ or special dress, as well as by their arms and banners (figs. to ). they possessed the right freely to discuss their general interests, and at meetings composed of all their members they might modify their statutes, provided that such changes were confirmed by the king or by the authorities. it was also necessary that these meetings, at which the royal delegates were present, should be duly authorised; and, lastly, so as to render the communication between members more easy, and to facilitate everything which concerned the interests of the craft, artisans of the same trade usually resided in the same quarter of the town, and even in the same street. the names of many streets in paris and other towns of france testify to this custom, which still partially exists in the towns of germany and italy. [illustration: fig. .--ceremonial dress of an elder and a juror of the corporation of old shoemakers of ghent.] the communities of artisans had, to a certain extent, the character and position of private individuals. they had the power in their corporate capacity of holding and administrating property, of defending or bringing actions at law, of accepting inheritances, &c.; they disbursed from a common treasury, which was supplied by legacies, donations, fines, and periodical subscriptions. these communities exercised in addition, through their jurors, a magisterial authority, and even, under some circumstances, a criminal jurisdiction over their members. for a long time they strove to extend this last power or to keep it independent of municipal control and the supreme courts, by which it was curtailed to that of exercising a simple police authority strictly confined to persons or things relating to the craft. they carefully watched for any infractions of the rules of the trade. they acted as arbitrators between master and man, particularly in quarrels when the parties had had recourse to violence. the functions of this kind of domestic magistracy were exercised by officers known under various names, such as _kings, masters, elders, guards, syndics_, and _jurors_, who were besides charged to visit the workshops at any hour they pleased in order to see that the laws concerning the articles of workmanship were observed. they also received the taxes for the benefit of the association; and, lastly, they examined the apprentices and installed masters into their office (fig. ). the jurors, or syndics, as they were more usually called, and whose number varied according to the importance of numerical force of the corporation, were generally elected by the majority of votes of their fellow-workmen, though sometimes the choice of these was entirely in the hands of the great officers of state. it was not unfrequent to find women amongst the dignitaries of the arts and crafts; and the professional tribunals, which decided every question relative to the community and its members, were often held by an equal number of masters and associate craftsmen. the jealous, exclusive, and inflexible spirit of caste, which in the middle ages is to be seen almost everywhere, formed one of the principal features of industrial associations. the admission of new members was surrounded with conditions calculated to restrict the number of associates and to discourage candidates. the sons of masters alone enjoyed hereditary privileges, in consequence of which they were always allowed to be admitted without being subjected to the tyrannical yoke of the association. [illustration: martyrdom of ss. crispin and crépinien. from a window in the hôpital des quinze-vingts (fifteenth century).] generally the members of a corporation were divided into three distinct classes--the masters, the paid assistants or companions, and the apprentices. apprenticeship, from which the sons of masters were often exempted, began between the ages of twelve and seventeen years, and lasted from two to five years. in most of the trades the master could only receive one apprentice in his house besides his own son. tanners, dyers, and goldsmiths were allowed one of their relatives in addition, or a second apprentice if they had no relation willing to learn their trade; and although some commoner trades, such as butchers and bakers, were allowed an unlimited number of apprentices, the custom of restriction had become a sort of general law, with the object of limiting the number of masters and workmen to the requirements of the public. the position of paid assistant or companion was required to be held in many trades for a certain length of time before promotion to mastership could be obtained. [illustration: fig. .--bootmaker's apprentice working at a trial-piece.--from a window of the thirteenth century, published by messrs. cahier and martin] when apprentices or companions wished to become masters, they were called _aspirants_, and were subjected to successive examinations. they were particularly required to prove their ability by executing what was termed a _chef-d'oeuvre_, which consisted in fabricating a perfect specimen of whatever craft they practised. the execution of the _chef-d'oeuvre_ gave rise to many technical formalities, which were at times most frivolous. the aspirant in certain cases had to pass a technical examination, as, for instance, the barber in forging and polishing lancets; the wool-weaver in making and adjusting the different parts of his loom; and during the period of executing the _chef-d'oeuvre,_ which often extended over several months, the aspirant was deprived of all communication with his fellows. he had to work at the office of the association, which was called the _bureau_, under the eyes of the jurors or syndics, who, often after an angry debate, issued their judgment upon the merits of the work and the capability of the workman (figs. and ). [illustration: fig. .--carpenter's apprentice working at a trial-piece.--from one of the stalls called _miséricordes_, in rouen cathedral (fifteenth century).] on his admission the aspirant had first to take again the oath of allegiance to the king before the provost or civil deputy, although he had already done so on commencing his apprenticeship. he then had to pay a duty or fee, which was divided between the sovereign or lord and the brotherhood, from which fee the sons of masters always obtained a considerable abatement. often, too, the husbands of the daughters of masters were exempted from paying the duties. a few masters, such as the goldsmiths and the cloth-workers, had besides to pay a sum of money by way of guarantee, which remained in the funds of the craft as long as they carried on the trade. after these forms had been complied with, the masters acquired the exclusive privilege of freely exercising their profession. there were, however, certain exceptions to this rule, for a king on his coronation, a prince or princess of the royal blood at the time of his or her marriage, and, in certain towns, the bishop on his installation, had the right of creating one or more masters in each trade, and these received their licence without going through any of the usual formalities. [illustration: fig. .--staircase of the office of the goldsmiths of rouen (fifteenth century). the shield which the lion holds with his paw shows the arms of the goldsmiths of rouen. (present condition).] a widower or widow might generally continue the craft of the deceased wife or husband who had acquired the freedom, and which thus became the inheritance of the survivor. the condition, however, was that he or she did not contract a second marriage with any one who did not belong to the craft. masters lost their rights directly they worked for any other master and received wages. certain freedoms, too, were only available in the towns in which they had been obtained. in more than one craft, when a family holding the freedom became extinct, their premises and tools became the property of the corporation, subject to an indemnity payable to the next of kin. [illustration: fig. .--shops under covered market (goldsmith, dealer in stuffs, and shoemaker).--from a miniature in aristotle's "ethics and politics," translated by nicholas oresme (manuscript of the fifteenth century, library of rouen).] at times, and particularly in those trades where the aspirants were not required to produce a _chef-d'oeuvre_, the installation of masters was accompanied with extraordinary ceremonies, which no doubt originally possessed some symbolical meaning, but which, having lost their true signification, became singular, and appeared even ludicrous. thus with the bakers, after four years' apprenticeship, the candidate on purchasing the freedom from the king, issued from his door, escorted by all the other bakers of the town, bearing a new pot filled with walnuts and wafers. on arriving before the chief of the corporation, he said to him, "master, i have accomplished my four years; here is my pot filled with walnuts and wafers." the assistants in the ceremony having vouched for the truth of this statement, the candidate broke the pot against the wall, and the chief solemnly pronounced his admission, which was inaugurated by the older masters emptying a number of tankards of wine or beer at the expense of their new brother. the ceremony was also of a jovial character in the case of the millwrights, who only admitted the candidate after he had received a caning on the shoulders from the last-elected brother. [illustration: fig. .--fac-simile of the first six lines on the copper tablet on which was engraved, from the year , the names and titles of those who were elected members of the corporation of goldsmiths of ghent.] the statutes of the corporations, which had the force of law on account of being approved and accepted by royal authority, almost always detailed with the greatest precision the conditions of labour. they fixed the hours and days for working, the size of the articles to be made, the quality of the stuffs used in their manufacture, and even the price at which they were to be sold (fig. ). night labour was pretty generally forbidden, as likely to produce only imperfect work. we nevertheless find that carpenters were permitted to make coffins and other funeral articles by night. on the eve of religious feasts the shops were shut earlier than usual, that is to say, at three o'clock, and were not opened on the next day, with the exception of those of pastrycooks, whose assistance was especially required on feast days, and who sold curious varieties of cakes and sweetmeats. notwithstanding the strictness of the rules and the administrative laws of each trade, which were intended to secure good faith and loyalty between the various members, it is unnecessary to state that they were frequently violated. the fines which were then imposed on delinquents constituted an important source of revenue, not only to the corporations themselves, but also to the town treasury. the penally, however, was not always a pecuniary one, for as late as the fifteenth century we have instances of artisans being condemned to death simply for having adulterated their articles of trade. [illustration: fig. .--elder and jurors of the tanners of the town of ghent in ceremonial dress.--fac-simile of a miniature in a manuscript of the fifteenth century.] this deception was looked upon as of the nature of robbery, which we know to have been for a long time punishable by death. robbery on the part of merchants found no indulgence nor pardon in those days, and the whole corporation demanded immediate and exemplary justice. according to the statutes, which generally tended to prevent frauds and falsifications, in most crafts the masters were bound to put their trade-mark on their goods, or some particular sign which was to be a guarantee for the purchaser and one means of identifying the culprit in the event of complaints arising on account of the bad quality or bad workmanship of the articles sold. [illustration: fig. .--companion carpenter.--fragment of a woodcut of the fifteenth century, after a drawing by wohlgemüth for the "chronique de nuremberg."] besides taking various steps to maintain professional integrity, the framers of the various statutes, as a safeguard to the public interests, undertook also to inculcate morality and good feeling amongst their members. a youth could not be admitted unless he could prove his legitimacy of birth by his baptismal register; and, to obtain the freedom, he was bound to bear an irreproachable character. artisans exposed themselves to a reprimand, and even to bodily chastisement, from the corporation, for even associating with, and certainly for working or drinking with those who had been expelled. licentiousness and misconduct of any kind rendered them liable to be deprived of their mastership. in some trade associations all the members were bound to solemnize the day of the decease of a brother, to assist at his funeral, and to follow him to the grave. in another community the slightest indecent or discourteous word was punishable by a fine. a new master could not establish himself in the same street as his former master, except at a distance, which was determined by the statutes; and, further, no member was allowed to ask for or attract customers when the latter were nearer the shop of his neighbour than of his own. in the middle ages religion placed its stamp on every occupation and calling, and corporations were careful to maintain this characteristic feature. each was under the patronage of some saint, who was considered the special protector of the craft; each possessed a shrine or chapel in some church of the quarter where the trade was located, and some even kept chaplains at their own expense for the celebration of masses which were daily said for the souls of the good deceased members of the craft. these associations, animated by christian charity, took upon them to invoke the blessings of heaven on all members of the fraternity, and to assist those who were either laid by through sickness or want of work, and to take care of the widows and to help the orphans of the less prosperous craftsmen. they also gave alms to the poor, and presented the broken meat left at their banquets to the hospitals. under the name of _garçons_, or _compagnons de devoir_ (this surname was at first specially applied to carpenters and masons, who from a very ancient date formed an important association, which was partly secret, and from which freemasonry traces its origin) (fig. ), the companions, notwithstanding that they belonged to the community of their own special craft, also formed distinct corporations among themselves with a view to mutual assistance. they made a point of visiting any foreign workman on his arrival in their town, supplied his first requirements, found him work, and, when work was wanting, the oldest companion gave up his place to him. these associations of companionship, however, soon failed to carry out the noble object for which they were instituted. after a time the meeting together of the fraternity was but a pretext for intemperance and debauchery, and at times their tumultuous processions and indecent masquerades occasioned much disorder in the cities. the facilities which these numerous associations possessed of extending and mutually co-operating with one another also led to coalitions among them for the purpose of securing any advantage which they desired to possess. sometimes open violence was resorted to to obtain their exorbitant and unjust demands, which greatly excited the industrious classes, and eventually induced the authorities to interfere. lastly, these brotherhoods gave rise to many violent quarrels, which ended in blows and too often in bloodshed, between workmen of the same craft, who took different views on debateable points. the decrees of parliament, the edicts of sovereigns, and the decisions of councils, as early as at the end of the fifteenth century and throughout the whole of the sixteenth, severely proscribed the doings of these brotherhoods, but these interdictions were never duly and rigidly enforced, and the authorities themselves often tolerated infractions of the law, and thus license was given to every kind of abuse. [illustration: fig. .--carpenters.--fac-simile of a miniature in the "chroniques de hainaut," manuscript of the fifteenth century, in the burgundy library, brussels.] we have frequently mentioned in the course of this volume the political part played by the corporations during the middle ages. we know the active and important part taken by trades of all descriptions, in france in the great movement of the formation of communities. the spirit of fraternal association which constituted the strength of the corporations (fig. ), and which exhibited itself so conspicuously in every act of their public and private life, resisted during several centuries the individual and collective attacks made on it by craftsmen themselves. these rich and powerful corporations began to decline from the moment they ceased to be united, and they were dissolved by law at the beginning of the revolution of , an act which necessarily dealt a heavy blow to industry and commerce. [illustration: fig. .--painting commemorative of the union of the merchants of rouen at the end of the seventeenth century.] [illustration: fig. .--banner of the drapers of caen.] taxes, money, and finance. taxes under the roman rule.--money exactions of the merovingian kings.--varieties of money.--financial laws under charlemagne.--missi dominici.--increase of taxes owing to the crusades.--organization of finances by louis ix.--extortions of philip le bel.--pecuniary embarrassaient of his successors.--charles v. re-establishes order in finances.--disasters of france under charles vi., charles vii., and jacques coeur.--changes in taxation from louis xi. to francis i.--the great financiers.--florimond robertet. if we believe caesar's commentaries on the gallic war, the gauls were groaning in his time under the pressure of taxation, and struggled hard to remove it. rome lightened their burden; but the fiscal system of the metropolis imperceptibly took root in all the roman provinces. there was an arbitrary personal tax, called the poll tax, and a land tax which was named _cens_, calculated according to the area of the holding. besides these, there were taxes on articles of consumption, on salt, on the import and export of all articles of merchandise, on sales by auction; also on marriages, on burials, and on houses. there were also legacy and succession duties, and taxes on slaves, according to their number. tolls on highways were also created; and the treasury went so far as to tax the hearth. hence the origin of the name, _feu_, which was afterwards applied to each household or family group assembled in the same house or sitting before the same fire. a number of other taxes sprung up, called _sordides_, from which the nobility and the government functionaries were exempt. this ruinous system of taxation, rendered still more insupportable by the exactions of the proconsuls, and the violence of their subordinates, went on increasing down to the time of the fall of the roman empire. the middle ages gave birth to a new order of things. the municipal administration, composed in great part of gallo-roman citizens, did not perceptibly deviate from the customs established for five centuries, but each invading nation by degrees introduced new habits and ideas into the countries they subdued. the germans and franks, having become masters of part of gaul, established themselves on the lands which they had divided between them. the great domains, with their revenues which had belonged to the emperors, naturally became the property of the barbarian chiefs, and served to defray the expenses of their houses or their courts. these chiefs, at each general assembly of the _leudes_, or great vassals, received presents of money, of arms, of horses, and of various objects of home or of foreign manufacture. for a long time these gifts were voluntary. the territorial fief, which was given to those soldlers who had deserved it by their military services, involved from the holders a personal service to the king. they had to attend him on his journeys, to follow him to war, and to defend him under all circumstances. the fief was entirely exempt from taxes. many misdeeds--even robberies and other crimes, which were ordinarily punishable by death--were pardonable on payment of a proportionate fine, and oaths, in many cases, might be absolved in the same way. thus a large revenue was received, which was generally divided equally between the state, the procurator fiscal, and the king. [illustration: fig. .--the extraction of metals.--fac-simile of a woodcut in the "cosmographie universelle" of munster, folio: basle, .] war, which was almost constant in those turbulent times, furnished the barbarian kings with occasional resources, which were usually much more important than the ordinary supplies from taxation. the first chiefs of the visigoths, the ostrogoths, and the franks, sought means of replenishing their treasuries by their victorious arms. alaric, totila, and clovis thus amassed enormous wealth, without troubling themselves to place the government finances on a satisfactory basis. we see, however, a semblance of financial organization in the institutions of alaric and his successors. subsequently, the great théodoric, who had studied the administrative theories of the byzantine court, exercised his genius in endeavouring to work out an accurate system of finance, which was adopted in italy. gregory of tours, a writer of the sixteenth century, relates in several passages of his "history of the franks," that they exhibited the same repugnance to compulsory taxation as the germans of the time of tacitus. the _leudes_ considered that they owed nothing to the treasury, and to force them to submit to taxation was not an easy matter. about the year , childéric i., father of clovis, lost his crown for wishing all classes to submit to taxation equally. in , childéric ii., king of austrasia, had one of these _leudes_, named bodillon, flogged with rods for daring to reproach him with the injustice of certain taxes. he, however, was afterwards assassinated by this same bodillon, and the _leudes_ maintained their right of immunity. a century before the _leudes_ were already quarrelling with royalty on account of the taxes, which they refused to pay, and they sacrificed queen brunehaut because she attempted to enrich the treasury with the confiscated property of a few nobles who had rebelled against her authority. the wealth of the frank kings, which was always very great, was a continual object of envy, and on one occasion chilpéric i., king of soissons, having the _leudes_ in league with him, laid his hands on the wealth amassed by his father, clotaire i., which was kept in the palace of braine. he was, nevertheless, obliged to share his spoil with his brothers and their followers, who came in arms to force him to refund what he had taken. chilpéric (fig. ) was so much in awe of these _leudes_ that he did not ask them for money. his wife, the much-feared frédégonde, did not, however, exempt them more than brunehaut had done; and her judges or ministers, audon and mummius, having met with an insurmountable resistance in endeavouring to force taxation on the nobles, nearly lost their lives in consequence. [illustration: fig. .--tomb of chilpéric.--sculpture of the eleventh century, in the abbey of st. denis.] the custom of numbering the population, such as was carried on in rome through the censors, appears to have been observed under the merovingian kings. at the request of the bishop of poitiers, childebert gave orders to amend the census taken under sigebert, king of austrasia. it is a most curious document mentioned by gregory of tours. "the ancient division," he says, "had been one so unequal, owing to the subdivision of properties and other changes which time had made in the condition of the taxpayers, that the poor, the orphans, and the helpless classes generally alone bore the real burden of taxation." florentius, comptroller of the king's household, and romulfus, count of the palace, remedied this abuse. after a closer examination of the changes which had taken place, they relieved the taxpayers who were too heavily rated and placed the burden on those who could better afford it. this direct taxation continued on this plan until the time of the kings of the second dynasty. the franks, who had not the privilege of exemption, paid a poll tax and a house tax; about a tenth was charged on the produce of highly cultivated lands, a little more on that of lands of an inferior description, and a certain measure, a _cruche_, of wine on the produce of every half acre of vineyard. there were assessors and royal agents charged with levying such taxes and regulating the farming of them. in spite of this precaution, however, an edict of clovis ii., in the year , censures the mode of imposing rates and taxes; it orders that they shall only be levied in the places where they have been authorised, and forbade their being used under any pretext whatever for any other object than that for which they were imposed. [illustration: fig. .--signature of st. eloy (eligius), financier and minister to dagobert i.; from the charter of foundation of the abbey of solignac (mabillon, "da re diplomatica").] under the merovingians specie was not in common use, although the precious metals were abundant among the gauls, as their mines of gold and silver were not yet exhausted. money was rarely coined, except on great occasions, such as a coronation, the birth of an heir to the throne, the marriage of a prince, or the commemoration of a decisive victory. it is even probable that each time that money was used in large sums the pound or the _sou_ of gold was represented more by ingots of metal than by stamped coin. the third of the _sou_ of gold, which was coined on state occasions, seems to have been used only as a commemorative medal, to be distributed amongst the great officers of state, and this circumstance explains their extreme rarity. the general character of the coinage, whether of gold, silver, or of the baser metals, of the burgundian, austrasian, and frank kings, differs little from what it had been at the time of the last of the roman emperors, though the _angel bearing the cross_ gradually replaced the _renommée victorieuse_ formerly stamped on the coins. christian monograms and symbols of the trinity were often intermingled with the initials of the sovereign. it also became common to combine in a monogram letters thought to be sacred or lucky, such as c, m, s, t, &c.; also to introduce the names of places, which, perhaps, have since disappeared, as well as some particular mark or sign special to each mint. some of these are very difficult to understand, and present a number of problems which have yet to be solved (figs. to ). unfortunately, the names of places on merovingian coins to the number of about nine hundred, have rarely been studied by coin collectors, expert both as geographers and linguists. we find, for example, one hundred distinct mints, and, up to the present time, have not been able to determine where the greater number of them were situated. [illustration: merovingian gold coins, struck by st. eloy, moneyer to dagobert i. ( - ). fig. .--parisinna ceve fit.. head of dagobert with double diadem of pearls, hair hanging down the back of the neck. _rev._, dagobertvs rex. cross; above, omega; under the arms of the cross, eligi. fig. .--parissin. civ. head of clovis ii., with diadem of pearls, hair braided and hanging down the back of the neck. _rev._, chlodovevs rex. cross with anchor; under the arms of the cross, eligi. fig. .--parisivs fit. head of king. _rev._, eligivs mone. cross; above, omega; under, a ball. fig. .--mon. palati. head of king. _rev._, scolare. i. a. cross with anchor; under the arms of the cross, eligi. ] from the time that clovis became a christian, he loaded the church with favours, and it soon possessed considerable revenues, and enjoyed many valuable immunities. the sons of clovis contested these privileges; but the church resisted for a time, though she was eventually obliged to give way to the iron hand of charles martel. in this great military chieftain, after his struggle with rainfroy, and after his brilliant victories over the saxons, the bavarians, the swiss, and the saracens, stripped the clergy of their landed possessions, in order to distribute them amongst his _leudes_, who by this means he secured as his creatures, and who were, therefore, ever willing and eager to serve him in arms. on ascending the throne, king pepin, who wanted to pacify the church, endeavoured as far as possible to obliterate the recollection of the wrongs of which his father had been guilty towards her; he ordered the _dîmes_ and the _nones_ (tenth and ninth denier levied on the value of lands) to be placed to the account of the possessors of each ecclesiastical domain, on their under-taking to repair the buildings (churches, châteaux, abbeys, and presbyteries), and to restore to the owners the properties on which they held mortgages. the nobles long resented this, and it required the authority and the example of charlemagne to soothe the contending parties, and to make church and state act in harmony. charlemagne renounced the arbitrary rights established by the mayors of the palace, and retained only those which long usage had legitimatised. he registered them clearly in a code called the _capitulaires_, into which he introduced the ancient laws of the ripuaires, the burgundians, and the franks, arranging them so as to suit the organization and requirements of his vast empire. from that time each freeman subscribed to the military service according to the amount of his possessions. the great vassal, or fiscal judge, was no longer allowed to practise extortion on those citizens appointed to defend the state. freemen could legally refuse all servile or obligatory work imposed on them by the nobles, and the amount of labour to be performed by the serfs was lessened. without absolutely abolishing the authority of local customs in matters of finance, or penalties which had been illegally exacted, they were suspended by laws decided at the _champs de mai_, by the counts and by the _leudes_, in presence of the emperor. arbitrary taxes were abolished, as they were no longer required. food, and any articles of consumption, and military munitions, were exempted from taxation; and the revenues derived from tolls on road gates, on bridges, and on city gates, &c., were applied to the purposes for which they were imposed, namely, to the repair of the roads, the bridges, and the fortified enclosures. the _heriban_, a fine of sixty sols--which in those days would amount to more than , francs--was imposed on any holder of a fief who refused military service, and each noble was obliged to pay this for every one of his vassals who was absent when summoned to the king's banner. these fines must have produced considerable sums. a special law exempted ecclesiastics from bearing arms, and charlemagne decreed that their possessions should be sacred and untouched, and everything was done to ensure the payment of the indemnity--_dîme_ and _none_--which was due to them. [illustration: fig. .--toll on markets levied by a cleric.--from one of the painted windows of the cathedral of tournay (fifteenth century).] charlemagne also superintended the coining and circulation of money. he directed that the silver sou should exactly contain the twenty-second part by weight of the pound. he also directed that money should only be coined in the imperial palaces. he forbade the circulation of spurious coin; he ordered base coiners to be severely punished, and imposed heavy fines upon those who refused to accept the coin in legal circulation. the tithe due to the church (fig. ), which was imposed at the national assembly in , and disbursed by the diocesan bishops, gave rise to many complaints and much opposition. this tithe was in addition to that paid to the king, which was of itself sufficiently heavy. the right of claiming the two tithes, however, had a common origin, so that the sovereign defended his own rights in protecting those of the church. this is set forth in the text of the _capitulaires_, from the year to . "what had originally been only a voluntary and pious offering of a few of the faithful," says the author of the "histoire financière de la france," "became thus a perpetual tax upon agriculture, custom rather than law enforcing its payment; and a tithe which was at first limited to the produce of the soil, soon extended itself to cattle and other live stock." royal delegates (_missi dominici_), who were invested with complex functions, and with very extensive power, travelled through the empire exercising legal jurisdiction over all matters of importance. they assembled all the _placites_, or provincial authorities, and inquired particularly into the collection of the public revenue. during their tours, which took place four times a year, they either personally annulled unjust sentences, or submitted them to the emperor. they denounced any irregularities on the part of the counts, punished the negligences of their assessors, and often, in order to replace unworthy judges, they had to resort to a system of election of assessors, chosen from among the people. they verified the returns for the census; superintended the keeping up of the royal domains; corrected frauds in matters of taxation; and punished usurers as much as base coiners, for at that time money was not considered a commercial article, nor was it thought right that a money-lender should be allowed to carry on a trade which required a remuneration proportionate to the risk which he incurred. [illustration: fig. .--sale by town-crier. _preco_, the crier, blowing a trumpet; _subhastator_, public officer charged with the sale. in the background is seen another sale, by the bellman.--fac-simile of a woodcut in the work of josse damhoudere, "praxis rerum civilium," to: antwerp, .] these _missi dominici_ were too much hated by the great vassals to outlive the introduction of the feudal system. their royal masters, as they themselves gradually lost a part of their own privileges and power, could not sustain the authority of these officers. dukes, counts, and barons, having become magistrates, arbitrarily levied new taxes, imposed new fines, and appropriated the king's tributes to such an extent that, towards the end of the tenth century, the laws of charlemagne had no longer any weight. we then find a number of new taxes levied for the benefit of the nobles, the very names of which have fallen into disuse with the feudal claims which they represented. among these new taxes were those of _escorte_ and _entrée_, of _mortmain_, of _lods et ventes_, of _relief_, the _champarts_, the _taille_, the _fouage_, and the various fees for wine-pressing, grinding, baking, &c., all of which were payable without prejudice to the tithes due to the king and the church. however, as the royal tithe was hardly ever paid, the kings were obliged to look to other means for replenishing their treasuries; and coining false money was a common practice. unfortunately each great vassal vied with the kings in this, and to such an extent, that the enormous quantity of bad money coined during the ninth century completed the public ruin, and made this a sad period of social chaos. the freeman was no longer distinguishable from the villain, nor the villain from the serf. serfdom was general; men found themselves, as it were, slaves, in possession of land which they laboured at with the sweat of their brow, only to cultivate for the benefit of others. the towns even--with the exception of a few privileged cities, as florence, paris, lyons, rheims, metz, strasburg, marseilles, hamburg, frankfort, and milan--were under the dominion of some ecclesiastical or lay lord, and only enjoyed liberty of a more or less limited character. towards the end of the eleventh century, under philip i., the enthusiasm for crusades became general, and, as all the nobles joined in the holy mission of freeing the tomb of jesus christ from the hands of the infidels, large sums of money were required to defray the costs. new taxes were accordingly imposed; but, as these did not produce enough at once, large sums were raised by the sale of some of the feudal rights. certain franchises were in this way sold by the nobles to the boroughs, towns, and abbeys, though, in not a few instances, these very privileges had been formerly plundered from the places to which they were now sold. fines were exacted from any person declining to go to palestine; and foreign merchants--especially the jews--were required to subscribe large sums. a number of the nobles holding fiefs were reduced to the lowest expedients with a view to raising money, and even sold their estates at a low price, or mortgaged them to the very jews whom they taxed so heavily. every town in which the spirit of gallo-roman municipality was preserved took advantage of these circumstances to extend its liberties. each monarch, too, found this a favourable opportunity to add new fiefs to the crown, and to recall as many great vassals as possible under his dominion. it was at this period that communities arose, and that the first charters of freedom which were obligatory and binding contracts between the king and the people, date their origin. besides the annual fines due to the king and the feudal lords, and in addition to the general subsidies, such as the quit-rent and the tithes, these communities had to provide for the repair of the walls or ramparts, for the paving of the streets, the cleaning of the pits, the watch on the city gates, and the various expenses of local administration. louis le gros endeavoured to make a re-arrangement of the taxes, and to establish them on a definite basis. by his orders a new register of the lands throughout the kingdom was commenced, but various calamities caused this useful measure to be suspended. in , louis le jeune, in consequence of a disaster which had befallen the crusaders, did what none of his predecessors had dared to attempt: he exacted from all his subjects a sol per pound on their income. this tax, which amounted to a twentieth part of income, was paid even by the church, which, for example's sake, did not take advantage of its immunities. forty years later, at a council, or _great parliament_, called by philip augustus, a new crusade was decided upon; and, under the name of saladin's tithe, an annual tax was imposed on all property, whether landed or personal, of all who did not take up the cross to go to the holy land. the nobility, however, so violently resisted this, that the king was obliged to substitute for it a general tax, which, although it was still more productive, was less offensive in its mode of collection. on returning to france in , philip augustus rated and taxed every one--nobility, bourgeois, and clergy--in order to prosecute the great wars in which he was engaged, and to provide for the first paid troops ever known in france. he began by confirming the enormous confiscations of the properties of the jews, who had been banished from the kingdom, and afterwards sold a temporary permission to some of the richest of them to return. the jews at that time were the only possessors of available funds, as they were the only people who trafficked, and who lent money on interest. on this account the government were glad to recall them, so as to have at hand a valuable resource which it could always make use of. as the king could not on his own authority levy taxes upon the vassals of feudal lords, on emergencies he convoked the barons, who discussed financial matters with the king, and, when the sum required was settled, an order of assessment was issued, and the barons undertook the collection of the taxes. the assessment was always fixed higher than was required for the king's wants, and the barons, having paid the king what was due to him, retained the surplus, which they divided amongst themselves. the creation of a public revenue, raised by the contributions of all classes of society, with a definite sum to be kept in reserve, thus dates from the reign of philip augustus. the annual income of the state at that time amounted to , marks, or , pounds' weight of silver--about sixteen or seventeen million francs of present currency. the treasury, which was kept in the great tower of the temple (fig. ), was under the custody of seven bourgeois of paris, and a king's clerk kept a register of receipts and disbursements. this treasury must have been well filled at the death of philip augustus, for that monarch's legacies were very considerable. one of his last wishes deserves to be mentioned: and this was a formal order, which he gave to louis viii., to employ a certain sum, left him for that purpose, solely and entirely for the defence of the kingdom. [illustration: fig. .--the tower of the temple, in paris.--from an engraving of the topography of paris, in the cabinet des estampes, of the national library.] [illustration: gold coins of the sixth and seventh centuries. fig. .--mérovée, son of chilperic i. fig. .--dagobert i. fig. .--clotaire iii.] [illustration: silver coins from the eighth to the eleventh centures. fig .--pepin the short. fig. .--charlemagne. fig. .--henri i.] [illustration: gold and silver coins of the thirteenth century. fig. .--gold florin of louis ix. fig. .--silver gros of tours.--philip iii.] when louis ix., in , at taillebourg and at saintes, had defeated the great vassals who had rebelled against him, he hastened to regulate the taxes by means of a special code which bore the name of the _Établissements_. the taxes thus imposed fell upon the whole population, and even lands belonging to the church, houses which the nobles did not themselves occupy, rural properties and leased holdings, were all subjected to them. there were, however, two different kinds of rates, one called the _occupation_ rate, and the other the rate of _exploitation_; and they were both collected according to a register, kept in the most regular and systematic manner possible. ancient custom had maintained a tax exceptionally in the following cases: when a noble dubbed his son a knight, or gave his daughter in marriage, when he had to pay a ransom, and when he set out on a campaign against the enemies of the church, or for the defence of the country. these taxes were called _l'aide aux quatre cas_. at this period despotism too often overruled custom, and the good king louis ix., by granting legal power to custom, tried to bring it back to the true principles of justice and humanity. he was, however, none the less jealous of his own personal privileges, especially as regarded coining (figs. to ). he insisted that coining should be exclusively carried on in his palace, as in the times of the carlovingian kings, and he required every coin to be made of a definite standard of weight, which he himself fixed. in this way he secured the exclusive control over the mint. for the various localities, towns, or counties directly under the crown, louis ix. settled the mode of levying taxes. men of integrity were elected by the vote of the general assembly, consisting of the three orders--namely, of the nobility, the clergy, and the _tiers état_--to assess the taxation of each individual; and these assessors themselves were taxed by four of their own number. the custom of levying proprietary subsidies in each small feudal jurisdiction could not be abolished, notwithstanding the king's desire to do so, owing to the power still held by the nobles. nobles were forbidden to levy a rate under any consideration, without previously holding a meeting of the vassals and their tenants. the tolls on roads, bridges (fig. ), fairs, and markets, and the harbour dues were kept up, notwithstanding their obstruction to commerce, with the exception that free passage was given to corn passing from one province to another. the exemptions from taxes which had been dearly bought were removed; and the nobles were bound not to divert the revenue received from tolls for any purposes other than those for which they were legitimately intended. the nobles were also required to guard the roads "from sunrise to sunset," and they were made responsible for robberies committed upon travellers within their domains. louis ix., by refunding the value of goods which had been stolen through the carelessness of his officers, himself showed an example of the respect due to the law. those charged with collecting the king's dues, as well as the mayors whose duty it was to take custody of the money contributed, and to receive the taxes on various articles of consumption, worked under the eye of officials appointed by the king, who exercised a financial jurisdiction which developed later into the department or office called the chamber of accounts. a tax, somewhat similar to the tithe on funds, was imposed for the benefit of the nobles on property held by corporations or under charter, in order to compensate the treasury for the loss of the succession duties. this tax represented about the fifth part of the value of the estate. to cover the enormous expenses of the two crusades, louis ix., however, was obliged to levy two new taxes, called _decimes_, from his already overburdened people. it does not, however, appear that this excessive taxation alienated the affection of his subjects. their minds were entirely taken up with the pilgrimages to the east, and the pious monarch, notwithstanding his fruitless sacrifices and his disastrous expeditions, earned for himself the title of _prince of peace and of justice_. [illustration: fig. .--paying toll on passing a bridge.--from a painted window in the cathedral of tournay (fifteenth century).] from the time of louis ix. down to that of philippe le bel, who was the most extravagant of kings, and at the same time the most ingenious in raising funds for the state treasury, the financial movement of europe took root, and eventually became centralised in italy. in florence was presented an example of the concentration of the most complete municipal privileges which a great flourishing city could desire. pisa, genoa, and venice attracted a part of the european commerce towards the adriatic and the mediterranean. everywhere the jews and lombards--already well initiated into the mysterious system of credit, and accustomed to lend money--started banks and pawn establishments, where jewels, diamonds, glittering arms, and paraphernalia of all kinds were deposited by princes and nobles as security for loans (fig. ). [illustration: fig. .--view of the ancient pont aux changeurs.--from an engraving of the topography of paris, in the cabinet des estampes, of the national library.] the tax collectors (_maltôtiers_, a name derived from the italian _mala tolta_, unjust tax), receivers, or farmers of taxes, paid dearly for exercising their calling, which was always a dishonourable one, and was at times exercised with a great amount of harshness and even of cruelty. the treasury required a certain number of _deniers, oboles_, or _pittes_ (a small coin varying in value in each province) to be paid by these men for each bank operation they effected, and for every pound in value of merchandise they sold, for they and the jews were permitted to carry on trades of all kinds without being subject to any kind of rates, taxes, work, military service, or municipal dues. philippe le bel, owing to his interminable wars against the king of castille, and against england, germany, and flanders, was frequently so embarrassed as to be obliged to resort to extraordinary subsidies in order to carry them on. in , he called upon his subjects for a forced loan, and soon after he shamelessly required them to pay the one-hundredth part of their incomes, and after but a short interval he demanded another fiftieth part. the king assumed the exclusive right to debase the value of the coinage, which caused him to be commonly called the _base coiner_, and no sovereign ever coined a greater quantity of base money. he changed the standard or name of current coin with a view to counterbalance the mischief arising from the illicit coinage of the nobles, and especially to baffle the base traffic of the jews and lombards, who occasionally would obtain possession of a great part of the coin, and mutilate each piece before restoring it to circulation; in this way they upset the whole monetary economy of the realm, and secured immense profits to themselves (figs. to ). in , the _aide au leur_, which was afterwards called the _aide de l'ost,_ or the army tax, was invented by philippe le bel for raising an army without opening his purse. it was levied without distinction upon dukes, counts, barons, ladies, damsels, archbishops, bishops, abbots, chapters, colleges, and, in fact, upon all classes, whether noble or not. nobles were bound to furnish one knight mounted, equipped, and in full armour, for every five hundred marks of land which they possessed; those who were not nobles had to furnish six foot-soldiers for every hundred households. by another enactment of this king the privilege was granted of paying money instead of complying with these demands for men, and a sum of livres--about , francs of present currency--was exacted for each armed knight; and two sols--about ten francs per diem--for each soldier which any one failed to furnish. an outcry was raised throughout france at this proceeding, and rebellions broke out in several provinces: in paris the mob destroyed the house of stephen barbette, master of the mint, and insulted the king in his palace. it was necessary to enforce the royal authority with vigour, and, after considerable difficulty, peace was at last restored, and philip learned, though too late, that in matters of taxation the people should first be consulted. in , for the first time, the bourgeoisie, syndics, or deputies of communities, under the name of _tiers état_--third order of the state--were called to exercise the right of freely voting the assistance or subsidy which it pleased the king to ask of them. after this memorable occasion an edict was issued ordering a levy of six deniers in the pound on every sort of merchandise sold in the kingdom. paris paid this without hesitation, whereas in the provinces there was much discontented murmuring. but the following year, the king having tried to raise the six deniers voted by the assembly of to twelve, the clergy, nobility, and _tiers état_ combined to resist the extortions of the government. philippe le bel died, after having yielded to the opposition of his indignant subjects, and in his last moments he recommended his son to exercise moderation in taxing and honesty in coining. [illustration: gold coins of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. fig. .--masse d'or. philip iv. fig. .--small aignel d'or. charles iv. fig. .--large aignel d'or. john the good. fig. .--franc à cheval d'or. charles v. fig. .--ecu d'or. philip vi. fig. .--salut d'or. charles vi.] on the accession of louis x., in , war against the flemish was imminent, although the royal treasury was absolutely empty. the king unfortunately, in spite of his father's advice, attempted systematically to tamper with the coinage, and he also commenced the exaction of fresh taxes, to the great exasperation of his subjects. he was obliged, through fear of a general rebellion, to do away with the tithe established for the support of the army, and to sacrifice the superintendent of finances, enguerrand de marigny, to the public indignation which was felt against him. this man, without being allowed to defend himself, was tried by an extraordinary commission of parliament for embezzling the public money, was condemned to death, and was hung on the gibbet of montfauçon. not daring to risk a convocation of the states-general of the kingdom, louis x. ordered the seneschals to convoke the provincial assemblies, and thus obtained a few subsidies, which he promised to refund out of the revenues of his domains. the clergy even allowed themselves to be taxed, and closed their eyes to the misappropriation of the funds, which were supposed to be held in reserve for a new crusade. taxes giving commercial franchise and of exchange were levied, which were paid by the jews, lombards, tuscans, and other italians; judiciary offices were sold by auction; the trading class purchased letters of nobility, as they had already done under philippe le bel; and, more than this, the enfranchisement of serfs, which had commenced in , was continued on the payment of a tax, which varied according to the means of each individual. in consequence of this system, personal servitude was almost entirely abolished under philippe de long, brother of louis x. each province, under the reign of this rapacious and necessitous monarch, demanded some concession from the crown, and almost always obtained it at a money value. normandy and burgundy, which were dreaded more than any other province on account of their turbulence, received remarkable concessions. the base coin was withdrawn from circulation, and louis x. attempted to forbid the right of coinage to those who broke the wise laws of st. louis. the idea of bills of exchange arose at this period. thanks to the peace concluded with flanders, on which occasion that country paid into the hands of the sovereign thirty thousand florins in gold for arrears of taxes, and, above all, owing to the rules of economy and order, from which philip v., surnamed the long, never deviated, the attitude of france became completely altered. we find the king initiating reform by reducing the expenses of his household. he convened round his person a great council, which met monthly to examine and discuss matters of public interest; he allowed only one national treasury for the reception of the state revenues; he required the treasurers to make a half-yearly statement of their accounts, and a daily journal of receipts and disbursements; he forbad clerks of the treasury to make entries either of receipts or expenditure, however trifling, without the authority and supervision of accountants, whom he also compelled to assist at the checking of sums received or paid by the money-changers (fig. ). the farming of the crown lands, the king's taxes, the stamp registration, and the gaol duties were sold by auction, subject to certain regulations with regard to guarantee. the bailiffs and seneschals sent in their accounts to paris annually, they were not allowed to absent themselves without the king's permission, and they were formally forbidden, under pain of confiscation, or even a severer penalty, to speculate with the public money. the operations of the treasury were at this period always involved in the greatest mystery. [illustration: fig. .--hotel of the chamber of accounts in the courtyard of the palace in paris. from a woodcut of the "cosmographie universelle" of munster, in folio: basle, .] [illustration: fig. .--measuring salt.--fac-simile of a woodcut of the "ordonnances de la prevosté des marchands de paris," in folio: .] [illustration: fig. .--toll under the bridges of paris.--fac-simile of a woodcut of the "ordonnances de la prevosté des marchands de paris," in folio: .] the establishment of a central mint for the whole kingdom, the expulsion of the money-dealers, who were mostly of italian origin, and the confiscation of their goods if it was discovered that they had acted falsely, signalised the accession of charles le bel in . this beginning was welcomed as most auspicious, but before long the export duties, especially on grain, wine, hay, cattle, leather, and salt, became a source of legitimate complaint (figs. and ). philip vi., surnamed _de valois_, a more astute politician than his predecessor, felt the necessity of gaining the affections of the people by sparing their private fortunes. in order to establish the public revenue on a firm basis, he assembled, in , the states-general, composed of barons, prelates, and deputies from the principal towns, and then, hoping to awe the financial agents, he authorised the arrest of the overseer, pierre de montigny, whose property was confiscated and sold, producing to the treasury the enormous sum of , , livres, or upwards of , , francs of present currency. the long and terrible war which the king was forced to carry on against the english, and which ended in the treaty of bretigny in , gave rise to the introduction of taxation of extreme severity. the dues on ecclesiastical properties were renewed and maintained for several years; all beverages sold in towns were taxed, and from four to six deniers in the pound were levied upon the value of all merchandise sold in any part of the kingdom. the salt tax, which philippe le bel had established, and which his successor, louis x., immediately abolished at the unanimous wish of the people, was again levied by philip vi., and this king, having caused the salt produced in his domains to be sold, "gave great offence to all classes of the community." it was on account of this that edward iii., king of england, facetiously called him the author of the _salic_ law. philippe de valois, when he first ascended the throne, coined his money according to the standard weight of st. louis, but in a short time he more or less alloyed it. this he did secretly, in order to be able to withdraw the pieces of full weight from circulation and to replace them with others having less pure metal in them, and whose weight was made up by an extra amount of alloy. in this dishonest way a considerable sum was added to the coffers of the state. king john, on succeeding his father in , found the treasury empty and the resources of the kingdom exhausted. he was nevertheless obliged to provide means to continue the war against the english, who continually harassed the french on their own territory. the tax on merchandise not being sufficient for this war, the payment of public debts contracted by the government was suspended, and the state was thus obliged to admit its insolvency. the mint taxes, called _seigneuriage_, were pushed to the utmost limits, and the king levied them on the new coin, which he increased at will by largely alloying the gold with base metals. the duties on exported and imported goods were increased, notwithstanding the complaints that commerce was declining. these financial expedients would not have been tolerated by the people had not the king taken the précaution to have them approved by the states-general of the provincial states, which he annually assembled. in the states-general were convoked, and the king, who had to maintain thirty thousand soldiers, asked them to provide for this annual expenditure, estimated at , , _livres parisis_, about , , francs of present currency. the states-general, animated by a generous feeling of patriotism, "ordered a tax of eight deniers in the pound on the sale and transfer of all goods and articles of merchandise, with the exception of inheritances, which was to be payable by the vendors, of whatever rank they might be, whether ecclesiastics, nobles, or others, and also a salt tax to be levied throughout the whole kingdom of france." the king promised as long as this assistance lasted to levy no other subsidy and to coin good and sterling money--i.e., _deniers_ of fine gold, _white_, or silver coin, coin of _billon_, or mixed metal, and _deniers_ and _mailles_ of copper. the assembly appointed travelling agents and three inspectors or superintendents, who had under them two receivers and a considerable number of sub-collectors, whose duties were defined with scrupulous minuteness. the king at this time renounced the right of seizin, his dues over property, inherited or conveyed by sale, exchange, gift, or will, his right of demanding war levies by proclamation, and of issuing forced loans, the despotic character of which offended everybody. the following year, the tax of eight deniers having been found insufficient and expensive in its collection, the assembly substituted for it a property and income tax, varying according to the property and income of each individual. [illustration: fig. .--the courtiers amassing riches at the expense of the poor.--from a miniature in the 'tresor of brunetto latini, manuscript of the fourteenth century, in the library of the arsenal, paris.] the finances were, notwithstanding these additions, in a low and unsatisfactory condition, which became worse and worse from the fatal day of poitiers, when king john fell into the hands of the english. the states-general were summoned by the dauphin, and, seeing the desperate condition in which the country was placed, all classes freely opened their purses. the nobility, who had already given their blood, gave the produce of all their feudal dues besides. the church paid a tenth and a half, and the bourgeois showed the most noble unselfishness, and rose as one man to find means to resist the common enemy. the ransom of the king had been fixed at three millions of _écus d'or,_ nearly a thousand million francs, payable in six years, and the peace of bretigny was concluded by the cession of a third of the territory of france. there was, however, cause for congratulation in this result, for "france was reduced to its utmost extremity," says a chronicler, "and had not something led to a reaction, she must have perished irretrievably." king john, grateful for the love and devotion shown to him by his subjects under these trying circumstances, returned from captivity with the solemn intention of lightening the burdens which pressed upon them, and in consequence be began by spontaneously reducing the enormous wages which the tax-gatherers had hitherto received, and by abolishing the tolls on highways. he also sold to the jews, at a very high price, the right of remaining in the kingdom and of exercising any trade in it, and by this means he obtained a large sum of money. he solemnly promised never again to debase the coin, and he endeavoured to make an equitable division of the taxes. unfortunately it was impossible to do without a public revenue, and it was necessary that the royal ransom should be paid off within six years. the people, from whom taxes might be always extorted at pleasure, paid a good share of this, for the fifth of the three millions of _écus d'or_ was realised from the tax on salt, the thirteenth part from the duty on the sale of fermented liquors, and twelve deniers per pound from the tax on the value of all provisions sold and resold within the kingdom. commerce was subjected to a new tax called _imposition foraine_, a measure most detrimental to the trade and manufactures of the country, which were continually struggling under the pitiless oppression of the treasury. royal despotism was not always able to shelter itself under the sanction of the general and provincial councils, and a few provinces, which forcibly protested against this excise duty, were treated on the same footing as foreign states with relation to the transit of merchandise from them. other provinces compounded for this tax, and in this way, owing to the different arrangements in different places, a complicated system of exemptions and prohibitions existed which although most prejudicial to all industry, remained in force to a great extent until . when charles v.--surnamed the wise--ascended the throne in , france, ruined by the disasters of the war, by the weight of taxation, by the reduction in her commerce, and by the want of internal security, exhibited everywhere a picture of misery and desolation; in addition to which, famine and various epidemics were constantly breaking out in various parts of the kingdom. besides this, the country was incessantly overrun by gangs of plunderers, who called themselves _écorcheurs, routiers, tardvenus_, &c., and who were more dreaded by the country people even than the english had been. charles v., who was celebrated for his justice and for his economical and provident habits, was alone capable of establishing order in the midst of such general confusion. supported by the vote of the assembly held at compiègne in , he remitted a moiety of the salt tax and diminished the number of the treasury agents, reduced their wages, and curtailed their privileges. he inquired into all cases of embezzlement, so as to put a stop to fraud; and he insisted that the accounts of the public expenditure in its several departments should be annually audited. he protected commerce, facilitated exchanges, and reduced, as far as possible, the rates and taxes on woven articles and manufactured goods. he permitted jews to hold funded property, and invited foreign merchants to trade with the country. for the first time he required all gold and silver articles to be stamped, and called in all the old gold and silver coins, in order that by a new and uniform issue the value of money might no longer be fictitious or variable. for more than a century coins had so often changed in name, value, and standard weight, that in an edict of king john we read, "it was difficult for a man when paying money in the ordinary course to know what he was about from one day to another." the recommencement of hostilities between england and france in unfortunately interrupted the progressive and regular course of these financial improvements. the states-general, to whom the king was obliged to appeal for assistance in order to carry on the war, decided that salt should be taxed one sol per pound, wine by wholesale a thirteenth of its value, and by retail a fourth; that a _fouage_, or hearth tax, of six francs should be established in towns, and of two francs in the country,[*] and that a duty should be levied in walled towns on the entrance of all wine. the produce of the salt tax was devoted to the special use of the king. each district farmed its excise and its salt tax, under the superintendence of clerks appointed by the king, who regulated the assessment and the fines, and who adjudicated in the first instance in all cases of dispute. tax-gatherers were chosen by the inhabitants of each locality, but the chief officers of finance, four in number, were appointed by the king. this administrative organization, created on a sound basis, marked the establishment of a complete financial system. the assembly, which thus transferred the administration of all matters of taxation from the people at large to the king, did not consist of a combination of the three estates, but simply of persons of position--namely, prelates, nobles, and bourgeois of paris, in addition to the leading magistrates of the kingdom. [footnote *: this is the origin of the saying "smoke farthing."] the following extract from the accounts of the th november, , is interesting, inasmuch as it represents the actual budget of france under charles v.:-- article . assigned for the payment of men at arms ...... , francs. " . for payment of men at arms and crossbowmen newly formed .............................. , " " " for sea purposes ............................. , " " . for the king's palace ........................ , " " " to place in the king's coffers................ , " " . it pleases the king that the receiver-general should have monthly for matters that daily arise in the chamber ...................... , " " " for the payment of debts ..................... , " total ..................... , " [illustration: settlement of accounts by the brothers of cherité-dieu of the recovery of roles a miniature from the "_livre des comptes_" of the society (fifteenth century).] thus, for the year, , francs in _écus d'or_ representing in present money about , , francs, were appropriated to the expenses of the state, out of which the sum of , francs, equal to , francs of present money, was devoted to what we may call the _civil list_. on the death of charles v., in , his eldest son charles, who was a minor, was put under the guardianship of his uncles, and one of these, the duke d'anjou, assumed the regency by force. he seized upon the royal treasury, which was concealed in the castle of melun, and also upon all the savings of the deceased king; and, instead of applying them to alleviate the general burden of taxation, he levied a duty for the first time on the common food of the people. immediately there arose a general outcry of indignation, and a formidable expression of resistance was made in paris and in the large towns. mob orators loudly proclaimed the public rights thus trampled upon by the regent and the king's uncles; the expression of the feelings of the masses began to take the shape of open revolt, when the council of the regency made an appearance of giving way, and the new taxes were suppressed, or, at all events, partially abandoned. the success of the insurrectionary movement, however, caused increased concessions to be demanded by the people. the jews and tax-collectors were attacked. some of the latter were hung or assassinated, and their registers torn up; and many of the former were ill-treated and banished, notwithstanding the price they had paid for living in the kingdom. the assembly of the states, which was summoned by the king's uncles to meet in paris, sided with the people, and, in consequence, the regent and his brother pretended to acknowledge the justice of the claims which were made upon them in the name of the people, and, on their withdrawing the taxes, order was for a time restored. no sooner, however, was this the case than, in spite of the solemn promises made by the council of regency, the taxes were suddenly reimposed, and the right of farming them was sold to persons who exacted them in the most brutal manner. a sanguinary revolt, called that of the _maillotins_, burst forth in paris; and the capital remained for some time in the power of the people, or rather of the bourgeois, who led the mob on to act for them ( - ). the towns of rouen, rheims, troyes, orleans, and blois, many places in beauvoise, in champagne, and in normandy, followed the example of the parisians, and it is impossible to say to what a length the revolt would have reached had it not been for the victory over the flemish at rosebecque. this victory enabled the king's uncles to re-enter paris in , and to re-establish the royal authority, at the same time making the _maillotins_ and their accomplices pay dearly for their conduct. the excise duties, the hearth tax, the salt tax, and various other imposts which had been abolished or suspended, were re-established; the taxes on wine, beer, and other fermented liquors was lowered; bread was taxed twelve deniers per pound, and the duty on salt was fixed at the excessive rate of twenty francs in gold--about , francs of present money--per hogshead of sixty hundredweight. certain concessions and compromises were made exceptionally in favour of artois, dauphiné, poitou, and saintonge, in consideration of the voluntary contributions which those provinces had made. [illustration: fig. .--assassination of the duke of burgundy, john the fearless, on the bridge of montereau, in .--fac-simile of a miniature in the "chronicles" of monstrelet, manuscript of the fifteenth century, in the library of the arsenal of paris.] emboldened by the success of their exacting and arbitrary rule, the dukes of anjou, burgundy, and berry, under pretext of requiring money for war expenses, again increased the taxes from the year to ; and the salt tax was raised to forty golden francs, about , francs of present money, per hogshead. the ecclesiastics paid a half décime to the king, and several décimes to the pope, but these did not prevent a forced loan being ordered. happily, charles vi. about this period attained his majority, and assumed his position as king; and his uncle, the duke of bourbon, who was called to the direction of affairs, re-established comparative order in financial matters; but soon after the king's brother, the duke of orleans, seized the reins of government, and, jointly with his sister-in-law, isabel of bavaria, increased the taxation far beyond that imposed by the duke d'anjou. the duke of burgundy, called john the fearless, in order to gratify his personal hatred to his cousin, louis of orleans, made himself the instrument of the strong popular feeling by assassinating that prince as he was returning from an entertainment. the tragical death of the duke of orleans no more alleviated the ills of france than did that of the duke of burgundy sixteen years later--for he in his turn was the victim of a conspiracy, and was assassinated on the bridge of montereau in the presence of the dauphin (fig. ). the marriage of isabel of france with the young king richard of england, the ransom of the christian prisoners in the east, the money required by the emperor of constantinople to stop the invasions of the turks into europe, the pay of the french army, which was now permanent, each necessarily required fresh subsidies, and money had to be raised in some way or other from the french people. distress was at its height, and though the people were groaning under oppression, they continued to pay not only the increased taxes on provisions and merchandise, and an additional general tax, but to submit to the most outrageous confiscations and robbery of the public money from the public treasuries. the state assemblies held at auxerre and paris in and , denounced the extravagance and maladministration of the treasurers, the generals, the excisemen, the receivers of royal dues, and of all those who took part in the direction of the finances; though they nevertheless voted the taxes, and promulgated most severe regulations with respect to their collection. to meet emergencies, which were now becoming chronic, extraordinary taxes were established, the non-payment of which involved the immediate imprisonment of the defaulter; and the debasement of the coinage, and the alienation of certain parts of the kingdom, were authorised in the name of the king, who had been insane for more than fifteen years. the incessant revolts of the bourgeois, the reappearance of the english on the soil of france, the ambitious rivalry of queen isabel of bavaria leagued with the duke of burgundy against the dauphin, who had been made regent, at last, in , brought about the humiliating treaty of troyes, by which henry v., king of england, was to become king of france on the death of charles vi. this treaty of troyes became the cause of, and the pretext for, a vast amount of extortion being practised upon the unfortunate inhabitants of the conquered country. henry v., who had already made several exactions from normandy before he had obtained by force the throne of france, did not spare the other provinces, and, whilst proclaiming his good intentions towards his future subjects, he added a new general impost, in the shape of a forced loan, to the taxes which already weighed so heavily on the people. he also issued a new coinage, maintained many of the taxes, especially those on salt and on liquors, even after he had announced his intention of abolishing them. at the same time the dauphin charles, surnamed _roi de bourges_, because he had retired with his court and retinue into the centre of the kingdom ( ), was sadly in want of money. he alienated the state revenues, he levied excise duties and subsidies in the provinces which remained faithful to his cause, and he borrowed largely from those members of the church and the nobility who manifested a generous pity for the sad destiny of the king and the monarchy. many persons, however, instead of sacrificing themselves for their king and country, made conditions with him, taking advantage of his position. the heir to the throne was obliged in many points to give way, either to a noble whose services he bargained for, or to a town or an abbey whose aid he sought. at times he bought over influential bodies, such as universities and other corporation, by granting exemptions from, or privileges in, matters of taxation, &c. so much was this the case that it may be said that charles vii. treated by private contract for the recovery of the inheritances of his fathers. the towns of paris and rouen, as well as the provinces of brittany, languedoc, normandy, and guyenne, only returned to their allegiance to the king on conditions more or less advantageous to themselves. burgundy, picardy, and flanders--which were removed from the kingdom of charles vii. at the treaty of peace of arras in --cordially adopted the financial system inaugurated by the duke of burgundy, philip the good. [illustration: fig. .--the house of jacques coeur at bourges, now converted into the hôtel de ville.] charles vii. reconquered his kingdom by a good and wise policy as much as by arms. he, doubtless, had cause to be thankful for the valeur and devotion of his officers, but he principally owed the success of his cause to one man, namely, his treasurer, the famous jacques coeur, who possessed the faculty of always supplying money to his master, and at the same time of enriching himself (fig. ). thus it was that charles vii., whose finances had been restored by the genius of jacques coeur, was at last able to re-enter his capital triumphantly, to emancipate guyenne, normandy, and the banks of the loire from the english yoke, to reattach to the crown a portion of its former possessions, or to open the way for their early return, to remove bold usurpers from high places in the state, and to bring about a real alleviation of those evils which his subjects had so courageously borne. he suppressed the fraud and extortion carried on under the name of justice, put a stop to the sale of offices, abolished a number of rates illegally levied, required that the receivers' accounts should be sent in biennially, and whilst regulating the taxation, he devoted its proceeds entirely to the maintenance and pay of the army. from that time taxation, once feudal and arbitrary, became a fixed royal due, which was the surest means of preventing the pillage and the excesses of the soldiery to which the country people had been subjected for many years. important triumphs of freedom were thus obtained over the tyrannical supremacy of the great vassals; but in the midst of all this improvement we cannot but regret that the assessors, who, from the time of their creation by st. louis, had been elected by the towns or the corporations, now became the nominees of the crown. [illustration: fig. .--_amende honorable_ of jacques coeur before charles vii.--fac-simile of a miniature of the "chroniques" of monstrelet, manuscript of the fifteenth century, in the national library of paris.] philip the good, duke of burgundy, taxed his subjects but little: "therefore," says philippe de commines, "they became very wealthy, and lived in much comfort." but louis xi did not imitate him. his first care was to reinstate that great merchant, that clever financier, jacques coeur, to whom, as much as to joan of arc, the kingdom owed its freedom, and whom charles vii., for the most contemptible reasons, had had the weakness to allow to be judicially condemned louis xi. would have been very glad to entrust the care of his finances to another jacques coeur; for being sadly in want of money, he ran through his father's earnings, and, to refill his coffers, he increased taxation, imposed a duty on the importation of wines, and levied a tax on those holding offices, &c. a revolution broke out in consequence, which was only quenched in the blood of the insurgents. in this manner he continued, by force of arms, to increase and strengthen his own regal power at the expense of feudalism. he soon found himself opposed by the _ligue du bien public_, formed by the great vassals ostensibly to get rid of the pecuniary burden which oppressed the people, but really with the secret intention of restoring feudalism and lessening the king's power. he was not powerful enough openly to resist this, and appeared to give way by allowing the leagued nobles immense privileges, and himself consenting to the control of a sort of council of "thirty-six notables appointed to superintend matters of finance." far from acknowledging himself vanquished, however, he immediately set to work to cause division among his enemies, so as to be able to overcome them. he accordingly showed favour towards the bourgeois, whom he had already flattered, by granting new privileges, and abolishing or reducing certain vexatious taxes of which they complained. the thirty-six notables appointed to control his financial management reformed nothing. they were timid and docile under the cunning eye of the king, and practically assisted him in his designs; for in a very few years the taxes were increased from , , écus--about , , francs of present money--to , , écus--about , , francs. towards the end of the reign they exceeded , , écus-- , , francs of present money. louis xi. wasted nothing on luxury and pleasure; he lived parsimoniously, but he maintained , men under arms, and was ready to make the greatest sacrifices whenever there was a necessity for augmenting the territory of the kingdom, or for establishing national unity. at his death, on the th of august, , he left a kingdom considerably increased in area, but financialty almost ruined. when anne de beaujeu, eldest sister of the king, who was a minor, assumed the reins of government as regent, an immediate demand was made for reparation of the evils to which the finance ministers had subjected the unfortunate people. the treasurer-general olivier le dain, and the attorney-general jean doyat, were almost immediately sacrificed to popular resentment, six thousand swiss were subsidised, the pensions granted during the previous reign were cancelled, and a fourth part of the taxes was removed. public opinion being thus satisfied, the states-general assembled. the bourgeois here showed great practical good sense, especially in matters of finance; they proved clearly that the assessment was illegal, and that the accounts were fictitious, inasmuch as the latter only showed , , livres of subsidies, whereas they amounted to three times as much. it was satisfactorily established that the excise, the salt tax, and the revenues of the public lands amply sufficed for the wants of the country and the crown. the young king charles was only allowed , , livres for his private purse for two years, and , livres for the expenses of the festivities of his coronation. on the assembly being dissolved, the queen regent found ample means of pleasing the bourgeois and the people generally by breaking through the engagements she had entered into in the king's name, by remitting taxation, and finally by force of arms destroying the power of the last remaining vassals of the crown. [illustration: fig. .--the mint.--fac-simile of a woodcut in the translation of the latin work of francis patricius, "de l'institution et administration de la chose politique:" folio, .] [illustration: fig. .--the receiver of taxes.--fac-simile of a woodcut in damhoudere's "praxis rerum civilium."] charles viii., during a reign of fourteen years, continued to waste the public money. his disastrous expedition for the conquest of the kingdom of naples forced him to borrow at the rate of forty-two per cent. a short time previous to his death he acknowledged his errors, but continued to spend money, without consideration or restraint, in all kinds of extravagances, but especially in buildings. during his reign the annual expenditure almost invariably doubled the revenue. in it reached , , francs, about , , francs of present money. the deficit was made up each year by a general tax, "which was paid neither by the nobles nor the church, but was obtained entirely from the people" (letters from the ambassadors of venice). when the duke of orleans ascended the throne as louis xii., the people were again treated with some consideration. having chosen george d'amboise as premier and florimond robertet as first secretary of the treasury, he resolutely pursued a course of strict economy; he refused to demand of his subjects the usual tax for celebrating the joyous accession, the taxes fell by successive reductions to the sum of , , livres, about , , francs of present money, the salt tax was entirely abolished, and the question as to what should be the standard measure of this important article was legislated upon. the tax-gatherers were forced to reside in their respective districts, and to submit their registers to the royal commissioners before beginning to collect the tax. by strict discipline pillage by soldiers was put a stop to (fig. ). notwithstanding the resources obtained by the king through mortgaging a part of the royal domains, and in spite of the excellent administration of robertet, who almost always managed to pay the public deficit without any additional tax, it was necessary in , after several disastrous expeditions to italy, to borrow, on the security of the royal domains, , livres, , , francs of present money, and to raise from the excise and from other dues and taxes the sum of , , livres, about , , francs of present money. this caused the nation some distress, but it was only temporary, and was not much felt, for commerce, both domestic and foreign, much extended at the same time, and the sale of collectorships, of titles of nobility, of places in parliament, and of nominations to numerous judicial offices, brought in considerable sums to the treasury. the higher classes surnamed the king _le roitelet_, because he was sickly and of small stature, parsimonious and economical. the people called him their "father and master," and he has always been styled the father of the people ever since. [illustration: fig. .--a village pillaged by soldiers.--fac-simile of a woodcut in hamelmann's "oldenburgisches chronicon." in folio, .] in an administrative and financial point of view, the reign of francis i. was not at all a period of revival or of progress. the commencement of a sounder system of finance is rather to be dated from that of charles v.; and good financial organization is associated with the names of jacques coeur, philip the good, charles xi., and florimond robertet. as an example of this, it may be stated that financiers of that time established taxes on registration of all kinds, also on stamps, and on sales, which did not before exist in france, and which were borrowed from the roman emperors. we must also give them the credit of having first commenced a public debt, under the name of _rentes perpetuelles_, which at that time realised eight per cent. during this brilliant and yet disastrous reign the additional taxes were enormous, and the sale of offices produced such a large revenue that the post of parliamentary counsel realised the sum of , golden écus, or nearly a million francs of present currency. it was necessary to obtain money at any price, and from any one who would lend it. the ecclesiastics, the nobility, the bourgeois, all gave up their plate and their jewels to furnish the mint, which continued to coin money of every description, and, in consequence of the discovery of america, and the working of the gold and silver mines in that country, the precious metals poured into the hands of the money-changers. the country, however, was none the more prosperous, and the people often were in want of even the commonest necessaries of life. the king and the court swallowed up everything, and consumed all the resources of the country on their luxury and their wars. the towns, the monasteries, and the corporations, were bound to furnish a certain number of troops, either infantry or cavalry. by the establishment of a lottery and a bank of deposit, by the monopoly of the mines and by the taxes on imports, exports, and manufactured articles, enormous sums were realised to the treasury, which, as it was being continually drained, required to be as continually replenished. francis i. exhausted every source of credit by his luxury, his caprices, and his wars. jean de beaune, baron de semblançay, the old minister of finance, died a victim to false accusations of having misappropriated the public funds. robertet, who was in office with him, and william bochetel, who succeeded him, were more fortunate: they so managed the treasury business that, without meeting with any legal difficulty, they were enabled to centralise the responsibility in themselves instead of having it distributed over sixteen branches in all parts of the kingdom, a system which has continued to our day. in those days the office of superintendent of finance was usually only a short and rapid road to the gibbet of montfaucon. [illustrations: gold and silver coins of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. fig. .--royal d'or. charles vii fig. .--Écu d'argent à la couronne. louis xi. fig. .--Écu d'or à la couronne. charles viii. fig. .--Écu d'or au porc-épic. louis xii. fig. .--teston d'argent. francis i. fig. .--teston d'argent au croissant. henry ii. ] [illustration: fig. .--silver franc. henry iv.] law and the administration of justice. the family the origin of government.--origin of supreme power amongst the franks.--the legislation of barbarism humanised by christianity.--right of justice inherent to the bight of property.--the laws under charlemagne.--judicial forms.--witnesses.--duels, &c.-- organization of royal justice under st. louis.--the châtelet and the provost of paris.--jurisdiction of parliament, its duties and its responsibilities.--the bailiwicks. struggles between parliament and the châtelet.--codification of the customs and usages.--official cupidity.--comparison between the parliament and the châtelet. amongst the ancient celtic and german population, before any greek or roman innovations had become engrafted on to their customs, everything, even political power as well as the rightful possession of lands, appears to have been dependent on families. julius cæsar, in his "commentaries," tells us that "each year the magistrates and princes assigned portions of land to families as well as to associations of individuals having a common object whenever they thought proper, and to any extent they chose, though in the following year the same authorities compelled them to go and establish themselves elsewhere." we again find families (_familiæ_) and associations of men (_cognationes hominum_) spoken of by cæsar, in the barbaric laws, and referred to in the histories of the middle ages under the names of _genealogiæ, faramanni, faræ_, &c.; but the extent of the relationship (_parentela_) included under the general appellation of _families_ varied amongst the franks, lombards, visigoths, and bavarians. generally, amongst all the people of german origin, the relationship only extended to the seventh degree; amongst the celts it was determined merely by a common ancestry, with endless subdivisions of the tribe into distinct families. amongst the germans, from whom modern europe has its origin, we find only three primary groups; namely, first, the family proper, comprising the father, mother, and children, and the collateral relatives of all degrees; secondly, the vassals (_ministeriales_) or servants of the free class; and, thirdly, the servants (_mansionarii, coloni, liti, servi_) of the servile class attached to the family proper (fig. ). domestic authority was represented by the _mund_, or head of the family, also called _rex_ (the king), who exercised a special power over the persons and goods of his dependents, a guardianship, in fact, with certain rights and prerogatives, and a sort of civil and political responsibility attached to it. thus the head of the family, who was responsible for his wife and for those of his children who lived with him, was also responsible for his slaves and domestic animals. to such a pitch did these primitive people carry their desire that justice should be done in all cases of infringement of the law, that the head was held legally responsible for any injury which might be done by the bow or the sword of any of his dependents, without it being necessary that he should himself have handled either of these weapons. long before the commencement of the merovingian era, the family, whose sphere of action had at first been an isolated and individual one, became incorporated into one great national association, which held official meetings at stated periods on the _malberg_ (parliament hill). these assemblies alone possessed supreme power in its full signification. the titles given to certain chiefs of _rex_ (king), _dux_ (duke), _graff_ (count), _brenn_ (general of the army), only defined the subdivisions of that power, and were applied, the last exclusively, to those engaged in war, and the others to those possessing judicial and administrative functions. the duty of dispensing justice was specially assigned to the counts, who had to ascertain the cause of quarrels between parties and to inflict penalties. there was a count in each district and in each important town; there were, besides, several counts attached to the sovereign, under the title of counts of the palace (_comites palatii_), an honourable position, which was much sought after and much coveted on account of its pecuniary and other contingent advantages. the counts of the palace deliberated with the sovereign on all matters and all questions of state, and at the same time they were his companions in hunting, feasting, and religious exercises; they acted as arbitrators in questions of inheritance of the crown; during the minority of princes they exercised the same authority as that which the constitution gave to sovereigns who were of full age; they confirmed the nominations of the principal functionaries and even those of the bishops; they gave their advice on the occasion of a proposed alliance between one nation and another, on matters connected with treaties of peace or of commerce, on military expeditions, or on exchanges of territory, as well as in reference to the marriage of a prince, and they incurred no responsibility beyond that naturally attached to persons in so distinguished a position among a semi-barbarous community. at first the legates (_legati_), and afterwards the king's ambassadors (_missi dominici_), the bishops and the dukes or commanders of the army were usually selected from the higher court officials, such as the counts of the palace, whereas the _ministeriales_, forming the second class of the royal officials, filled inferior though very honourable and lucrative posts of an administrative and magisterial character. [illustration: fig. .--the familles and the barbarians.--fac-simile of a woodcut in the "cosmographie universelle" of munster: in folio, basle, .] under the merovingians the legal principle of power was closely bound up with the possession of landed property. the subdivision of that power, however, closely followed this union, and the constant ruin of some of the nobles rapidly increased the power of others, who absorbed to themselves the lost authority of their more unfortunate brethren, so much so that the frank kings perceived that society would soon escape their rule unless they speedily found a remedy for this state of things. it was then that the _lois salique_ and _ripuaire_ appeared, which were subjected to successive revisions and gradual or sudden modifications, necessitated by political changes or by the increasing exigencies of the prelates and nobles. but, far from lessening the supremacy of the king, the national customs which were collected in a code extended the limits of the royal authority and facilitated its exercise. in , childebert, in concert with his _leudes_, decided that in future the crime of rape should be punished with death, and that the judge of the district (_pagus_) in which it had been committed should kill the ravisher, and leave his body on the public road. he also enacted that the homicide should have the same fate. "it is just," to quote the words of the law, "that he who knows how to kill should learn how to die." robbery, attested by seven witnesses, also involved capital punishment, and a judge convicted of having let a noble escape, underwent the same punishment that would have been inflicted on the criminal. the punishment, however, differed according to the station of the delinquent. thus, for the non-observance of sunday, a salian paid a fine of fifteen sols, a roman seven and a half sols, a slave three sols, or "his back paid the penalty for him." at this early period some important changes in the barbaric code had been made: the sentence of death when once given had to be carried out, and no arrangements between the interested parties could avert it. a crime could no longer be condoned by the payment of money; robbery even, which was still leniently regarded at that time, and beyond the rhine even honoured, was pitilessly punished by death. we therefore cannot have more striking testimony than this of the abridgment of the privileges of the frankish aristocracy, and of the progress which the sovereign power was making towards absolute and uncontrolled authority over cases of life and death. by almost imperceptible steps roman legislation became more humane and perfect, christianity engrafted itself into barbarism, licentiousness was considered a crime, crime became an offence against the king and society, and it was in one sense by the king's hand that the criminals received punishment. from the time of the baptism of clovis, the church had much to do with the re-arrangement of the penal code; for instance, marriage with a sister-in-law, a mother-in-law, an aunt, or a niece, was forbidden; the travelling shows, nocturnal dances, public orgies, formerly permitted at feasts, were forbidden as being profane. in the time of clotaire, the prelates sat as members of the supreme council, which was strictly speaking the highest court of the land, having the power of reversing the decisions of the judges of the lower courts. it pronounced sentence in conjunction with the king, and from these decisions there was no appeal. the nation had no longer a voice in the election of the magistrates, for the assemblies of _malberg_ did not meet except on extraordinary occasions, and all government and judicial business was removed to the supreme and often capricious arbitration of the king and his council. as long as the mayors of the palace of austrasia, and of that of burgundy, were only temporarily appointed, royal authority never wavered, and the sovereign remained supreme judge over his subjects. suddenly, however, after the execution of brunehaut, who was sacrificed to the hatred of the feudal lords, the mayoralty of the palace became a life appointment, and, in consequence, the person holding the office became possessed almost of supreme power, and the rightful sovereigns from that time practically became subject to the authority of the future usurpers of the crown. the edict of , to which the ecclesiastical and state nobility were parties, was in its laws and customs completely at variance with former edicts. in resuming their places in the french constitution, the merovingian kings, who had been deprived both of influence and authority, were compelled by the germanic institutions to return to the passive position which their predecessors had held in the forests of germany, but they no longer had, like the latter, the prestige of military authority to enable them to keep the position of judges or arbitrators. the canons of the council of paris, which were confirmed by an edict of the king bearing date the th of the calends of november, , upset the political and legal system so firmly established in europe since the fifth century. the royal power was shorn of some of its most valuable prerogatives, one of which was that of selecting the bishops; lay judges were forbidden to bring an ecclesiastic before the tribunals; and the treasury was prohibited from seizing intestate estates, with a view to increasing the rates and taxes; and it was decreed that jews should not be employed in collecting the public taxes. by these canons the judges and other officers of state were made responsible, the benefices which had been withdrawn from the _leudes_ were restored, the king was forbidden from granting written orders (_præcepta_) for carrying off rich widows, young virgins, and nuns; and the penalty of death was ordered to be enforced against those who disobeyed the canons of the council. thence sprung two new species of legislation, one ecclesiastical, the other civil, between which royalty, more and more curtailed of its authority, was compelled for many centuries to struggle. amongst the germanic nations the right of justice was inherent to landed property from the earliest times, and this right had reference to things as well as to persons. it was the patronage (_patrocinium_) of the proprietor, and this patronage eventually gave origin to feudal jurisdictions and to lordly and customary rights in each domain. we may infer from this that under the two first dynasties laws were made by individuals, and that each lord, so to speak, made his own. the right of jurisdiction seems to have been so inherent to the right of property, that a landed proprietor could always put an end to feuds and personal quarrels, could temporarily bring any lawsuit to a close, and, by issuing his _ban_, stop the course of the law in his own immediate neighbourhood--at least, within a given circumference of his residence. this was often done during any family festival, or any civil or religious public ceremony. on these occasions, whoever infringed the _ban_ of the master, was liable to be brought before his _court_, and to have to pay a fine. the lord who was too poor to create a court of sufficient power and importance obtained assistance from his lord paramount or relinquished the right of justice to him; whence originated the saying, "the fief is one thing, and justice another." the law of the visigoths speaks of nobles holding local courts, similar to those of the official judge, count, or bishop. king dagobert required the public and the private judges to act together. in the law of lombardy landlords are mentioned who, in virtue of the double title of nobles and judges, assumed the right of protecting fugitive slaves taking shelter in their domains. by an article of the salie law, the noble is made to answer for his vassal before the court of the count. we must hence conclude that the landlord's judgment was exercised indiscriminately on the serfs, the colons, and the vassals, and a statute of places under his authority even the freemen who resided with other persons. from these various sources we discover a curious fact, which has hitherto remained unnoticed by historians--namely, that there existed an intermediate legislation between the official court of the count and his subordinates and the private courts, which was a kind of court of arbitration exercised by the neighbours (_vicini_) without the assistance of the judges of the county, and this was invested with a sort of authority which rendered its decisions binding. [illustration: fig. .--the emperor charlemagne holding in one hand the globe and in the other the sword.--after a miniature in the registers of the university of paris (archives of the minister of public instruction of the university). the motto, _in scelus exurgo, sceleris discrimina purgo, _ is written on a scroll round the sword.] private courts, however, were limited in their power. they were neither absolutely independent, nor supreme and without appeal. all conducted their business much in the same way as the high, middle, and lower courts of the middle ages; and above all these authorities towered the king's jurisdiction. the usurpation of ecclesiastical bishops and abbots--who, having become temporal lords, assumed a domestic jurisdiction--was curtailed by the authority of the counts, and they were even more obliged to give way before that of the _missi dominici_, or the official delegates of the monarch. charles the bald, notwithstanding his enormous concessions to feudalism and to the church, never gave up his right of final appeal. during the whole of the merovingian epoch, the _mahl_ (_mallus_), the general and regular assembly of the nation, was held in the month of march. persons of every class met there clad in armour; political, commercial, and judicial interests were discussed under the presidency of the monarch; but this did not prevent other special assemblies of the king's court (_curia regalis_) being held on urgent occasions. this court formed a parliament (_parlamentum_), which at first was exclusively military, but from the time of clovis was composed of franks, burgundians, gallo-romans, as well as of feudal lords and ecclesiastics. as, by degrees, the feudal system became organized, the convocation of national assemblies became more necessary, and the administration of justice more complicated. charlemagne decided that two _mahls_ should be held annually, one in the month of may, the other in the autumn, and, in addition, that in each county two annual _plaids_ should meet independently of any special _mahls_ and _plaids_ which it should please him to convoke. in , the emperor found it necessary to call three general _plaids_, and, besides these, he was pleased to summon his great vassals, both clerical and lay, to the four principal feasts of the year. it may be asserted that the idea of royalty being the central authority in matters of common law dates from the reign of charlemagne (fig. ). the authority of royalty based on law took such deep root from that time forth, that it maintained itself erect, notwithstanding the weakness of the successors of the great charles, and the repeated infractions of it by the church and the great vassals of the crown (fig. ). [illustration: fig. .--carlovingian king in his palace personifying wisdom appealing to the whole human race.--after a miniature in a manuscript of the ninth century in the burgundian library of brussels, from a drawing by count horace de vielcastel.] the authoritative and responsible action of a tribunal which represented society (fig. ) thus took the place of the unchecked animosity of private feuds and family quarrels, which were often avenged by the use of the gibbet, a monument to be found erected at almost every corner. not unfrequently, in those early times, the unchecked passions of a chief of a party would be the only reason for inflicting a penalty; often such a person would constitute himself sole judge, and, without the advice of any one, he would pass sentence, and even, with his own sword or any other available instrument, he would act as his own executioner. the tribunal thus formed denounced duelling, the pitiless warfare between man and man, and between family and family, and its first care was to protect, not each individual man's life, which was impossible in those days of blind barbarism, but at least his dwelling. imperceptibly, the sanctuary of a man's house extended, first to towns of refuge, and then to certain public places, such as the church, the _mahlum_, or place of national assemblies, the market, the tavern, &c. it was next required that the accused, whether guilty or not, should remain unharmed from the time of the crime being committed until the day on which judgment was passed. [illustration: fig. .--the court of the nobles.--fac-simile of a miniature in an old poetical romance of chivalry, manuscript of the thirteenth century, in the library of the arsenal of paris.] this right of revenge, besides being thus circumscribed as to locality, was also subject to certain rules as to time. sunday and the principal feasts of the year, such as advent, christmas week, and from that time to the epiphany, from the ascension to the day of pentecost, certain vigils, &c., were all occasions upon which the right of revenge could not be exercised. "the power of the king," says a clever and learned writer, "partook to a certain degree of that of god and of the saints; it was his province to calm human passions; by the moral power of his seal and his hand he extended peace over all the great lines of communication, through the forests, along the principal rivers, the highways and the byways, &c. the _trêve du dieu_ in , was the logical application of these humane principles." we must not suppose that justice in those days was dispensed without formalities, and that there were no regular intervals between the various steps to be gone through before final judgment was given, and in consequence of which some guarantee was afforded that the decisions arrived at were carefully considered. no one was tried without having been previously summoned to appear before the tribunal. under the carlovingians, as in previous times, the periods when judicial courts were held were regulated by the moon. preference was given to the day on which it entered the first quarter, or during the full moon; the summonses were returnable by moons or quarter moons--that is, every seventh day. the summons was issued four times, after which, if the accused did not appear, he lost the right of counterplea, or was nonsuited. the salic law allowed but two summonses before a count, which had to be issued at an interval of forty nights the one from the other. the third, which summoned the accused before the king, was issued fourteen nights later, and if he had not put in an appearance before sunset on the fourteenth day, he was placed _hors de sa parole_, his goods were confiscated, and he forfeited the privilege of any kind of refuge. among the visigoths justice was equally absolute from the count to the tithe-gatherer. each magistrate had his tribunal and his special jurisdiction. these judges called to their assistance assessors or colleagues, either _rachimbourgs_, who were selected from freemen; or provosts, or _échevins_ (_scabini_), whose appointment was of an official and permanent character. the scabins created by charlemagne were the first elected magistrates. they numbered seven for each bench. they alone prepared the cases and arranged as to the sentence. the count or his delegate alone presided at the tribunal, and pronounced the judgment. every vassal enjoyed the right of appeal to the sovereign, who, with his court, alone decided the quarrels between ecclesiastics and nobles, and between private individuals who were specially under the royal protection. criminal business was specially referred to the sovereign, the _missi_, or the count palatine. final appeal lay with the count palatine in all cases in which the public peace was endangered, such as in revolts or in armed encounters. as early as the time of the invasion, the franks, bavarians, and visigoths, when investigating cases, began by an inquiry, and, previously to having recourse to trials before a judge, they examined witnesses on oath. then, he who swore to the matter was believed, and acquitted accordingly. this system was no doubt flattering to human veracity, but, unfortunately, it gave rise to abuses; which it was thought would be avoided by calling the family and friends of the accused to take an oath, and it was then administered by requiring them to place their hands on the crucifix, on some relics, or on the consecrated host. these witnesses, who were called _conjuratores_, came to attest before the judges not the fact itself, but the veracity of the person who invoked their testimony. [illustration: fig. .--the judicial duel. the plaintiff opening his case before the judge.--fac-simile of a miniature in the "cérémonies des gages des batailles," manuscript of the fifteenth century in the national library of paris.] the number and respectability of the _conjuratores_ varied according to the importance of the case in dispute. gregory of tours relates, that king gontran being suspicious as to the legitimacy of the child who afterwards became clotaire ii., his mother, frédégonde, called in the impartial testimony of certain nobles. these, to the number of three hundred, with three bishops at their head (_tribus episcopis et trecentis viris optimis_), swore, or, as we say, made an affidavit, and the queen was declared innocent. the laws of the burgundians and of the anglians were more severe than those of the germanic race, for they granted to the disputants trial by combat. after having employed the ordeal of red-hot iron, and of scalding water, the franks adopted the judicial duel (fig. ). this was imposed first upon the disputing parties, then on the witnesses, and sometimes even on the judges themselves. dating from the reign of the emperor otho the great in , the judicial duel, which had been at first restricted to the most serious cases, was had recourse to in almost all suits that were brought before the courts. neither women, old men, children, nor infirm persons were exempted. when a person could not himself fight he had to provide a champion, whose sole business was to take in hand the quarrels of others. [illustration: fig. .--judicial duel.--combat of a knight with a dog.--fac-simile of a miniature in the romance of "macaire," of the thirteenth century (library of the arsenal of paris).] ecclesiastics were obliged, in the same maimer, to fight by deputy. the champion or substitute required, of course, to be paid beforehand. if the legend of the dog of montargis is to be believed, the judicial duel seems to have been resorted to even against an animal (fig. ). in the twelfth century europe was divided, so to speak, into two vast judicial zones: the one, southern, gallo-roman, and visigoth; the other, northern and western, half germanic and half scandinavian, anglian, or saxon. christianity established common ties between these different legislations, and imperceptibly softened their native coarseness, although they retained the elements of their pagan and barbaric origin. sentences were not as yet given in writing: they were entrusted to the memory of the judges who had issued them; and when a question or dispute arose between the interested parties as to the terms of the decision which had been pronounced, an inquiry was held, and the court issued a second decision, called a _recordatum_. as long as the king's court was a movable one, the king carried about with him the original text of the law in rolls (_rotuli_). it was in consequence of the seizure of a number of these by the english, during the reign of philip augustus in , that the idea was suggested of preserving the text of all the laws as state archives, and of opening authentic registers of decisions in civil and criminal cases. as early as the time of charles the bald, the inconvenience was felt of the high court of the count being movable from place to place, and having no special locality where instructions might be given as to modes of procedure, for the hearing of witnesses, and for keeping the accused in custody, &c. a former statute provided for this probable difficulty, but there seems to be no proof that previous to the twelfth century any fixed courts of justice had been established. the kings, and likewise the counts, held courts in the open air at the entrance to the palace (fig. ), or in some other public place--under a large tree, for instance, as st. louis did in the wood of vincennes. m. desmaze, in his valuable researches on the history of the parliament of paris, says--"in , philip augustus, before starting for palestine, established bailiwicks, which held their assizes once a month; during their sitting they heard all those who had complaints to make, and gave summary judgment. the bailiff's assize was held at stated periods from time to time, and at a fixed place; it was composed of five judges, the king deciding the number and quality of the persons who were to take part in the deliberations of the court for each session. the royal court only sat when it pleased the king to order it; it accompanied the king wherever he went, so that it had no settled place of residence." louis ix. ordered that the courts of the nobles should be consolidated with the king's court, and succeeded in carrying out this reform. the bailiffs who were the direct delegates of the sovereign power, assumed an authority before which even the feudal lord was obliged to bend, because this authority was supported by the people, who were at that time organized in corporations, and these corporations were again bound together in communes. under the bailiffs a system was developed, the principles of which more nearly resembled the roman legislation than the right of custom, which it nevertheless respected, and the judicial trial by duel completely disappeared. inquiries and appeals were much resorted to in all kinds of proceedings, and louis ix. succeeded in controlling the power of ecclesiastical courts, which had been much abused in reference to excommunication. he also suppressed the arbitrary and ruinous confiscations which the nobles had unjustly made on their vassals. [illustration: fig. .--the palace as it was in the sixteenth century.--after an engraving of that period, national library of paris (cabinet des estampes).] the edict of very clearly established the jurisdiction of parliaments and bailiwicks; it defined the important duties of the bailiffs, and at the same time specified the mode in which proceedings should be taken; it also regulated the duties of counsel, _maîtres des requêtes_, auditors, and advocates. to the bailiwicks already in existence louis ix. added the four great assizes of vermandois, of sens, of saint-pierre-le-moustier, and of mâcon, "to act as courts of final appeal from the judgment of the nobles." philippe le bel went still further, for, in , he invited "all those who possess temporal authority in the kingdom of france to appoint, for the purpose of exercising civil jurisdiction, a bailiff, a provost, and some serjeants, who were to be laymen, and not ecclesiastics, and if there should be ecclesiastics in the said offices, to remove them." he ordered, besides, that all those who had cases pending before the court of the king and the secular judges of the kingdom should be furnished with lay attorneys; though the chapters, as well as the abbeys and convents, were allowed to be represented by canons. m. desmaze adds, "this really amounted to excluding ecclesiastics from judicial offices, not only from the courts of the king, but also from those of the nobles, and from every place in which any temporal jurisdiction existed." at the time of his accession, hugh capet was count of paris, and as such was invested with judicial powers, which he resigned in , on the understanding that his county of paris, after the decease of the male heirs of his brother eudes, should return to the crown. in , a new magistrate was created, called the provost of paris, whose duty it was to give assistance to the bourgeois in arresting persons for debt. this functionary combined in his own person the financial and political chief of the capital, he was also the head of the nobility of the county, he was independent of the governor, and was placed above the bailiffs and seneschals. he was the senior of the urban magistracy and police, leader of the municipal troops, and, in a word, the prefect (_præfectus urbis_), as he was called under the emperor aurelian, or the first magistrate of lutetia, as he was still called under clotaire in . assessors were associated with the provost, and together they formed a tribunal, which was afterwards known as the châtelet (fig. ), because they assembled in that fortress, the building of which is attributed to julius caesar. the functions of this tribunal did not differ much from those of the royal _châtellenies:_ its jurisdiction embraced quarrels between individuals, assaults, revolts, disputes between the universities and the students, and improper conduct generally (_ribaudailles_), in consequence of which the provost acquired the popular surname of _roi des ribauds_. at first his judgment was final, but very soon those under his jurisdiction were allowed to appeal to parliament, and that court was obliged to have certain cases sent back for judgment from the châtelet. this was, however, done only in a few very important instances, notwithstanding frequent appeals being made to its supreme arbitration. [illustration: fig. .--the great châtelet of paris.--principal front opposite the pont-au-change.--fac-simile of an engraving on copper by mérian, in the "topographia galliae" of zeller.] in addition to the courts of the counts and bailiffs established in certain of the large towns, aldermanic or magisterial courts existed, which rather resembled the châtelet of paris. thus the _capiloulat_ of toulouse, the senior alderman of metz, and the burgomaster of strasburg and brussels, possessed in each of these towns a tribunal, which judged without appeal, and united the several functions of a civil, criminal, and simple police court. several places in the north of france had provosts who held courts whose duties were various, but who were principally charged with the maintenance of public order, and with suppressing disputes and conflicts arising from the privileges granted to the trade corporations, whose importance, especially in flanders, had much increased since the twelfth century. "on his return from abroad, louis ix. took his seat upon the bench, and administered justice, by the side of the good provost of paris." this provost was no other than the learned estienne boileau, out of respect to whom the provostship was declared a _charge de magistrature_. the increase of business which fell to the provost's office, especially after the boundaries of paris were extended by philip augustus, caused him to be released from the duty of collecting the public taxes. he was authorised to furnish himself with competent assistants, who were employed with matters of minor detail, and he was allowed the assistance of _juges auditeurs_. "we order that they shall be eight in number," says an edict of philippe le bel, of february, , "four of them being ecclesiastics and four laymen, and that they shall assemble at the châtelet two days in the week, to take into consideration the suits and causes in concert with our provost...." in , the provost's court was composed of one king's attorney, one civil commissioner, two king's counsel, eight councillors, and one criminal commissioner, whose sittings took place daily at the châtelet. from the year this tribunal had to adjudicate in reference to all the affairs of the university, and from the th of october, , to all those of the salt-fish market, which were no less numerous, so that its importance increased considerably. unfortunately, numerous abuses were introduced into this municipal jurisdiction. in and , the officers of the châtelet were suspended, on account of the extortions which they were guilty of, and the king ordered an inquiry to be made into the matter. the provost and two councillors of the parliament sat upon it, and philip de valois, adopting its decisions, prescribed fresh statutes, which were naturally framed in such a way as to show the distrust in which the châtelet was then held. to these the officers of the châtelet promised on oath to submit. the ignorance and immorality of the lay officers, who had been substituted for the clerical, caused much disturbance. parliament authorised two of its principal members to examine the officers of the châtelet. twenty years later, on the receipt of fresh complaints, parliament decided that three qualified councillors, chosen from its own body, should proceed with the king's attorney to the châtelet, so as to reform the abuses and informalities of that court. [illustration: fig. .--the king's court, or grand council.--fac-simile of a miniature in the "chroniques" of froissart, manuscript of the fifteenth century (formerly in the possession of charles v), in the library of the arsenal, paris.] in the time of philippe le bel there existed in reality but one parliament, and that was the _king's court_. its action was at once political, administrative, financial, and judicial, and was necessarily, therefore, of a most complicated character. philippe le bel made it exclusively a judicial court, defined the territorial limit of its power, and gave it as a judicial body privileges tending to strengthen its independence and to raise its dignity. he assigned political functions to the great council (_conseil d'etat_); financial matters to the chamber of accounts; and the hearing of cases of heresy, wills, legacies, and dowries to the prelates. but in opposition to the wise edict of , he determined that jews should be excluded from parliament, and prelates from the palace of justice; by which latter proceeding he was depriving justice of the abilities of the most worthy representatives of the gallican church. but philippe le bel and his successors, while incessantly quarrelling either with the aristocracy or with the clergy, wanted the great judicial bodies which issued the edicts, and the urban or municipal magistrates--which, being subject to re-election, were principally recruited from among the bourgeois--to be a common centre of opposition to any attempt at usurpation of power, whether on the part of the church, the nobility, or the crown. the great days of troyes (_dies magni trecenses_), the assizes of the ancient counts of champagne, and the exchequer of normandy, were also organized by philipe le bel; and, further, he authorised the maintenance of a parliament at toulouse, a court which he solemnly opened in person on the th of january, . in times of war the parliament of paris sat once a year, in times of peace twice. there were, according to circumstances, during the year two, three, or four sittings of the exchequer of normandy, and two of the great days of troyes, tribunals which were annexed to the parliament of paris, and generally presided over by one of its delegates, and sometimes even by the supreme head of that high court. at the king's council (fig. ) it was decided whether a case should be reserved for the parliament of paris, or passed on either to the exchequer or to the great days of troyes. as that advanced reformer, philippe le bel, died before the institutions he had established had taken root, for many years, even down to the time of louis xi., a continual conflict for supremacy was waged between the parliament of paris and the various courts of the kingdom--between the counts and the parliament, and between the latter and the king, which, without lessening the dignity of the crown, gradually tended to increase the influence which the judges possessed. immediately on the accession of louis le hutin, in , a reaction commenced--the higher clergy re-entered parliament; but philippe le long took care that the laity should be in a majority, and did not allow that in his council of state the titled councillors should be more numerous than the lawyers. the latter succeeded in completely carrying the day on account of the services they rendered, and the influence which their knowledge of the laws of the country gave them. as for centuries the sword had ruled the gown, so, since the emancipation of the bourgeois, the lawyers had become masters of the administrative and judicial world; and, notwithstanding the fact that they were still kept in a somewhat inferior position to the peers and barons, their opinion alone predominated, and their decision frequently at once settled the most important questions. an edict issued at val notre-dame on the th of march, , increased the number of members of parliament, which from that time consisted of three presidents, fifteen clerical councillors, fifteen lay councillors, twenty-four clergymen and sixteen laymen of the court of inquiry, and five clergymen and sixteen laymen of the court of petitions. the king filled up the vacant seats on the recommendation of the chancellor and of the parliament. the reporters were enjoined to write the decisions and sentences which were given by the court "in large letters, and far apart, so that they might be more easily read." the duties of police in the courts, the keeping of the doors, and the internal arrangements generally for those attending the courts and the parliament, were entrusted to the ushers, "who divided among themselves the gratuities which were given them by virtue of their office." before an advocate was admitted to plead he was required to take oath and to be inscribed on the register. the parliament as then established was somewhat similar in its character to that of the old national representative government under the germans and franks. for centuries it protected the king against the undue interference of the spiritual power, it defended the people against despotism, but it often lacked independence and political wisdom, and it was not always remarkable for its correct appreciation of men and things. this tribunal, although supreme over all public affairs, sometimes wavered before the threats of a minister or of a court favourite, succumbed to the influence of intrigues, and adapted itself to the prejudices of the times. we see it, in moments of error and of blindness, both condemning eminent statesmen and leading citizens, such as jacques coeur and robertet, and handing over to the executioner distinguished men of learning and science in advance of the times in which they lived, because they were falsely accused of witchcraft, and also doing the same towards unfortunate maniacs who fancied they had dealings with the devil. [illustration: fig. .--trial of the constable de bourbon before the peers of france ( ).--from an engraving in "la monarchie françoise" of montfauçon.] in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries all the members of parliament formed part of the council of state, which was divided into the smaller council and the greater council. the greater council only assembled in cases of urgency and for extraordinary and very important purposes, the smaller council assembled every month, and its decisions were registered. from this arose the custom of making a similar registration in parliament, confirming the decisions after they had been formally arrived at. the most ancient edict placed on the register of the parliament of paris dates from the year , and is of a very important character. it concerns a question of royal authority, and decides that in spiritual matters the right of supremacy does not belong more to the pope than to the king. consequently philippe de valois ordered "his friends and vassals who shall attend the next parliament and the keepers of the accounts, that for the perpetual record of so memorable a decision, it shall be registered in the chambers of parliament and kept for reference in the treasury of the charters." from that time "cases of complaint and other matters relating to benefices have no longer been discussed before the ecclesiastical judges, but before parliament or some other secular court." during the captivity of king john in england, royal authority having considerably declined, the powers of parliament and other bodies of the magistracy so increased, that under charles vi. the parliament of paris was bold enough to assert that a royal edict should not become law until it had been registered in parliament. this bold and certainly novel proceeding the kings nevertheless did not altogether oppose, as they foresaw that the time would come when it might afford them the means of repudiating a treaty extorted from them under difficult circumstances (fig. ). the close connection which existed between the various parliaments and their political functions--for they had occasion incessantly to interfere between the acts of the government and the respective pretensions of the provinces or of the three orders--naturally increased the importance of this supreme magistracy. more than once the kings had cause to repent having rendered it so powerful, and this was the case especially with the parliament of paris. in this difficulty it is interesting to note how the kings acted. they imperceptibly curtailed the various powers of the other courts of justice, they circumscribed the power of the parliament of paris, and proportionately enlarged the jurisdiction of the great bailiwicks, as also that of the châtelet. the provost of paris was an auxiliary as well as a support to the royal power, which nevertheless held him in its grasp. the châtelet was also a centre of action and of strength, which counteracted in certain cases parliamentary opposition. thence arose the most implacable rivalries and dissensions between these various parties. [illustration: fig. .--promulgation of an edict.--fac-simile of a miniature in "anciennetés des juifs," (french translation from josephus), manuscript of the fifteenth century, executed for the duke of burgundy (library of the arsenal of paris.)] it is curious to notice with what ingenuity and how readily parliament took advantage of the most trifling circumstances or of charges based upon the very slightest grounds to summon the officers of the châtelet before its bar on suspicion of prevarication or of outrages against religion, morals, or the laws. often were these officers and the provost himself summoned to appear and make _amende honourable_ before the assembly, notwithstanding which they retained their offices. more than once an officer of the châtelet was condemned to death and executed, but the king always annulled that part of the sentence which had reference to the confiscation of the goods of the condemned, thus proving that in reality the condemnation had been unjust, although for grave reasons the royal authority had been unable to save the victim from the avenging power of parliament. hugues aubriot, the provost, was thus condemned to imprisonment for life on the most trivial grounds, and he would have undergone capital punishment if charles v. had abandoned him at the time of his trial. during the english occupation, in the disastrous reign of charles vi., the châtelet of paris, which took part with the people, gave proof of extraordinary energy and of great force of character. the blood of many of its members was shed on the scaffold, and this circumstance must ever remain a reproach to the judges and to those who executed their cruel sentences, and a lasting crown of glory to the martyrs themselves. an edict of king john, issued after his return from london in , a short time before his death, clearly defined the duties of parliament. they were to try cases which concerned peers of france, and such prelates, chapters, barons, corporations, and councils as had the privilege of appealing to the supreme court; and to hear cases relating to estates, and appeals from the provost of paris, the bailiffs, seneschals, and other judges (fig. ). it disregarded minor matters, but took cognizance of all judicial debates which concerned religion, the king, or the state. we must remark here that advocates were only allowed to speak twice in the same cause, and that they were subjected to fine, or at least to remonstrance, if they were tedious or indulged in needless repetition in their replies, and especially if they did not keep carefully to the facts of the case. after pleading they were permitted to give a summary in writing of "the principal points of importance as well as their clients' grounds of defence." charles v. confirmed these orders and regulations with respect to advocates, and added others which were no less important, among which we find a provision for giving "legal assistance to poor and destitute persons who go to law." these regulations of charles also limited the time in which officers of justice were to get through their business under a certain penalty; they also proclaimed that the king should no longer hear minor causes, and that, whatever might be the rules of the court, they forbad the presidents from deferring their judgment or from retarding the regular course of justice. charles vi., before he became insane, contributed no less than his father to the establishment on a better footing of the supreme court of the kingdom, as well as that of the châtelet and the bailiwicks. [illustration: fig. .--bailiwick.--fac-simile of a woodcut in the "cosmographie universelle" of munster: in folio, basle, .] in the fifteenth century, the parliament of paris was so organized as not to require material change till . there were noble, clerical, and lay councillors, honorary members, and _maîtres de requête_, only four of whom sat; a first president, who was supreme head of the parliament, a master of the great chamber of pleas, and three presidents of the chamber, all of whom were nominated for life. there were fifteen masters (_maistres_) or clerical councillors, and fifteen who were laymen, and these were annually approved by the king on the opening of the session. an attorney-general, several advocates-general, and deputies, who formed a committee or college, constituted the active part of this court, round which were grouped consulting advocates (_consiliarii_), pleading advocates (_proponentes_), advocates who were mere listeners (_audientes_), ushers and serjeants, whose chief, on his appointment, became a member of the nobility. the official costume of the first president resembled that of the ancient barons and knights. he wore a scarlet gown lined with ermine, and a black silk cap ornamented with tassels. in winter he wore a scarlet mantle lined with ermine over his gown, on which his crest was worked on a shield. this mantle was fastened to the left shoulder by three gold cords, in order to leave the sword-side free, because the ancient knights and barons always sat in court wearing their swords. amongst the archives of the mayoralty of london, we find in the "account of the entry of henry v., king of england, into paris" (on the st of december, ), that "the first president was in royal dress (_estoit en habit roial_), the first usher preceding him, and wearing a fur cap; the church dignitaries wore blue robes and hoods, and all the others in the procession scarlet robes and hoods." this imposing dress, in perfect harmony with the dignity of the office of those who wore them, degenerated towards the fifteenth century. so much was this the case, that an order of francis i. forbad the judges from wearing pink "slashed hose" or other "rakish garments." in the early times of monarchy, the judicial functions were performed gratuitously; but it was the custom to give presents to the judges, consisting of sweetmeats, spices, sugar-plums, and preserves, until at a subsequent period, , when, as the judges "preferred money to sweetmeats," says the chancellor etienne pasquier, the money value of the spices, &c., was fixed by law and made compulsory. in the bills of expenses preserved among the national archives, we find that the first president of the parliament of paris received a thousand _livres parisis_ annually, representing upwards of one hundred thousand francs at the present rate of money; the three presidents of the chamber five hundred livres, equal to fifty thousand francs; and the other nobles of the said parliament five _sols parisis_, or six sols three deniers--about twenty-five francs--per day for the days only on which they sat. they received, besides, two mantles annually. the prelates, princes, and barons who were chosen by the king received no salaries--_ils ne prennent nuls guaiges_ (law of th january, ). the seneschals and high bailiffs, like the presidents of the chambers, received five hundred livres--fifty thousand francs. they and the bailiffs of inferior rank were expressly forbidden from receiving money or fees from the parties in any suit, but they were allowed to accept on one day refreshment and bottles of wine. the salaries were paid monthly; but this was not always done regularly; sometimes the king was to blame for this, and sometimes it was owing to the ill-nature of the chiefs of finance, or of the receivers and payers. when the blame rested with the king, the parliament humbly remonstrated or closed the court. when, on the contrary, an officer of finance did not pay the salaries, parliament sent him the bailiff's usher, and put him under certain penalties until he had done so. the question of salaries was frequently arising. on the th of february, , "the court having been requested to serve without any remuneration for one parliament, on the understanding that the king would make up for it another time, the nobles of the court replied, after private deliberation, that they were ready to do the king's pleasure, but could not do so properly without receiving their salaries" (register of the parliament of paris). at the commencement of the fifteenth century, the scale of remuneration was not increased. in it was raised for the whole parliament to twenty-five thousand livres, which, calculated according to the present rate, amounted to nearly a million francs. in consequence of financial difficulties and the general distress, the unpleasant question in reference to claims for payment of salaries was renewed, with threats that the course of justice would be interrupted if they were not paid or not promised. on the nd of october, , two councillors and one usher were sent to the house of one of the chiefs of finance, with orders to demand payment of the salaries of the court. in october, , the government owed the magistrates two years of arrears. after useless appeals to the regent, and to the bishop of thérouanne, the then chancellor of france, the parliament sent two of its members to the king at rouen, who obtained, after much difficulty, "one month's pay, on the understanding that the parliament should hold its sittings in the month of april." in the month of july, , there was another deputation to the king, "in order to lay before him the necessities of the court, and that it had for some time been prorogued, and was still prorogued, on account of the non-payment of salaries." after two months of repeated remonstrance, the deputies only bringing back promises, the court assumed a menacing aspect; and on the th of january, , it pointed out to the chancellor the evil which would arise if parliament ceased to hold its sittings; and this time the chancellor announced that the salaries would be paid, though six months passed without any resuit or any practical step being taken in the matter. this state of affairs grew worse until the year , when the king was obliged to plead with the parliament in the character of an insolvent debtor, and, in order to obtain remission of part of his debt to the members, to guarantee to them a part of the salt duties. charles vii, after having reconquered his states, hastened to restore order. he first occupied himself with the system of justice, the parliament, the châtelet, and the bailiwicks; and in april, , in concert with the princes, the prelates, the council of state, the judges, and others in authority, he framed a general law, in one hundred and twenty-five articles, which was considered as the great charter of parliament (fig. ). according to the terms of these articles, "the councillors are to sit after dinner, to get through the minor causes. prisoners are to be examined without delay, and to hold no communication with any one, unless by special permission. the cases are to be carefully gone through in their proper order; for courts are instructed to do justice as promptly for the poor as for the rich, as it is a greater hardship for the poor to be kept waiting than the rich." the fees of attorneys were taxed and reduced in amount. those of advocates were reduced "to such moderation and fairness, that there should be no cause for complaint." the judgments by commissary were forbidden. the bailiffs and seneschals were directed to reside within their districts. the councillors were ordered to abstain from all communication with the parties in private, and consultations between themselves were to be held in secret. the judgments given in lawsuits were inscribed in a register, and submitted every two months to the presidents, who, if necessary, called the reporters to account for any neglect of duty. the reporter was ordered to draw attention to any point of difficulty arising in a suit, and the execution of sentences or judgments was entrusted to the ushers of the court. in the king, in consequence of a difficulty in paying the regular instalments of the usual salaries of the parliament, created "after-dinner fees" (_des gages d'après dînées_) of five sols parisis--more than ten francs of our money--per day, payable to those councillors who should hold a second hearing. matters did not improve much, however; nothing seemed to proceed satisfactorily, and members of parliament, deprived of their salaries, were compelled to contract a loan, in order to commence proceedings against the treasury for the non-payment of the amount due to them. in , the annual salaries of parliament were raised to the sum of , livres, equal to about , , francs. [illustration: fig. .--supreme court, presided over by the king, who is in the act of issuing a decree which is being registered by the usher.--fac-simile of a miniature in camareu of the "information des rois," manuscript of the fifteenth century, in the library of the arsenal of paris.] the first president received livres, solis parisis--about francs--per day; a clerical councillor sols parisis--about francs--and a lay councillor sols--about francs. this was an increase of a fifth on the preceding year. charles viii., in thus improving the remuneration of the members of the first court of the kingdom, reminded them of their duties, which had been too long neglected; he told them "that of all the cardinal virtues justice was the most noble and most important;" and he pointed out to them the line of conduct they were to pursue. the councillors were to be present daily in their respective chambers, from st. martin's day to easter, before seven o'clock in the morning; and from easter to the closing of parliament, immediately after six o'clock, without intermission, under penalty of punishment. strict silence was enforced upon them during the debates; and they were forbidden to occupy themselves with anything which did not concern the case under discussion. amidst a mass of other points upon which directions are given, we notice the following: the necessity of keeping secret the matters in course of deliberation; the prohibition to councillors from receiving, either directly or indirectly, anything in the shape of a douceur from the parties in any suit; and the forbidding all attorneys from receiving any bribe or claiming more than the actual expenses of a journey and other just charges. the great charter of the parliament, promulgated in april, , was thus amended, confirmed, and completed, by this code of charles viii., with a wisdom which cannot be too highly extolled. the magistrature of the supreme courts had been less favoured during the preceding reign. louis xi., that cautious and crafty reformer, after having forbidden ecclesiastical judges to examine cases referring to the revenues of vacant benefices, remodelled the secular courts, but he ruthlessly destroyed anything which offended him personally. for this reason, as he himself said, he limited the power of the parliaments of paris and toulouse, by establishing, to their prejudice, several other courts of justice, and by favouring the châtelet, where he was sure always to find those who would act with him against the aristocracy. the parliament would not give way willingly, nor without the most determined opposition. it was obliged, however, at last to succumb, and to pass certain edicts which were most repugnant to it. on the death of louis xi., however, it took its revenge, and called those who had been his favourites and principal agents to answer a criminal charge, for no other reason than that they had exposed themselves to the resentment of the supreme court. the châtelet, in its judicial functions, was inferior to the parliament, nevertheless it acquired, through its provost, who represented the bourgeois of paris, considerable importance in the eyes of the supreme court. in fact, for two centuries the provost held the privilege of ruling the capital, both politically and financially, of commanding the citizen militia, and of being chief magistrate of the city. in the court of audiences, a canopy was erected, under which he sat, a distinction which no other magistrate enjoyed, and which appears to have been exclusively granted to him because he sat in the place of _monsieur saint loys_ (saint louis), _dispensing justice to the good people of the city of paris_. when the provost was installed, he was solemnly escorted, wearing his cap, to the great chamber of parliament, accompanied by four councillors. [illustration: fig. .--the court of a baron.--fac-simile of a woodcut in the "cosmographie universelle" of munster: in folio, basle, .] after the ceremony of installation he gave his horse to the president, who had come to receive him. his dress consisted of a short robe, with mantle, collar turned down, sword, and hat with feathers; he also carried a staff of office, profusely ornamented with silver. thus attired he attended parliament, and assisted at the levees of the sovereign, where he took up his position on the lowest step of the throne, below the great chamberlain. every day, excepting at the vintage time, he was required to be present at the châtelet, either personally or by deputy, punctually at nine in the morning. there he received the list of the prisoners who had been arrested the day before; after that he visited the prisons, settled business of various kinds, and then inspected the town. his jurisdiction extended to several courts, which were presided over by eight deputies or judges appointed by him, and who were created officers of the châtelet by louis xii. in . subsequently, these received their appointments direct from the king. two auditing judges, one king's attorney, one registrar, and some bailiffs, completed the provost's staff. [illustration: fig. .--sergeants-at-arms of the fourteenth century, carved in stone.--from the church of st. catherine du val des ecoliers, in paris.] the bailiffs at the châtelet were divided into five classes: the _king's sergeant-at-arms,_ the _sergeants de la douzaine_, the _sergeants of the mace_, or _foot sergeants,_ the _sergeants fieffés_, and the _mounted sergeants_. the establishment of these officers dated from the beginning of the fourteenth century, and they were originally appointed by the provost, but afterwards by the king himself. the king's sergeants-at-arms (fig. ) formed his body-guard; they were not under the jurisdiction of the high constable, but of the ordinary judges, which proves that they were in civil employ. the sergeants _de la douzaine_ were twelve in number, as their name implies, all of whom were in the service of the provost; the foot sergeants, who were civilians, were gradually increased to the number of two hundred and twenty as early as the middle of the fifteenth century. they acted only in the interior of the capital, and guarded the city, the suburbs, and the surrounding districts, whereas the mounted sergeants had "to watch over the safety of the rural parishes, and to act throughout the whole extent of the provost's jurisdiction, and of that of the viscount of paris." in the midst of the changes of the middle ages, especially after the communes became free, all those kings who felt the importance of a strict system of justice, particularly st. louis, philippe le bel, and charles viii., had seen the necessity of compiling a record of local customs. an edict of orders that "the custom shall be registered in writing, so as to be examined by the members of the great council of the parliament." nevertheless, this important work was never properly carried out, and to louis xii. is due the honour of introducing a customary or usage law, and at the same time of correcting the various modes of procedure, upon which customs and usages had been based, and which had become singularly antiquated since the edict of . no monarch showed more favour to parliament than louis xii. during his reign of seventeen years we never find complaints from the magistracy for not having been paid punctually. but in contrast with this, on the accession of francis i., the court complained of not having been paid its first quarter's salary. from that moment claims were perpetually being made; there were continually delays, or absolute refusals; the members were expecting "remuneration for their services, in order absolutely to enable them to support their families and households." we can thus judge of the state of the various minor courts, which, being less powerful than the supreme tribunals, and especially than that of paris, were quite unable to get their murmurings even listened to by the proper authorities. this sad state of things continued, and, in fact, grew worse, until the assembly of the league, when mayenne, the chief of the leaguers, in order to gratify the parliament, promised to double the salaries, although he was unable to fulfil his promise. [illustration: fig. .--inferior court in the great bailiwick. adoption of orphan children.--fac-simile of a woodcut in j. damhoudère's "refuge et garand des pupilles, orphelins:" antwerp, j. bellère, .] towards the end of the sixteenth century the highest french tribunal was represented by nine superior courts--namely, the parliament of bordeaux, created on the th of june, ; the parliament of brittany, which replaced the ancient _grands-jours,_ in march, , and sat alternately at nantes and at rennes; the parliament of the dauphiné, established at grenoble in to replace the delphinal council; the parliament of burgundy, established at dijon in , which took the place of the _grands-jours_ at beaune; the movable parliament of dombes, created in , and consisting at the same time of a court of excise and a chamber of accounts; the parliament of normandy, established by louis xii. in april, , intended to replace the exchequer of rouen, and the ancient ducal council of the province; the parliament of provence, founded at aix in july, ; the parliament of toulouse, created in ; and the parliament of paris, which took precedence of all the others, both on account of its origin, its antiquity, the extent of its jurisdiction, the number of its prerogatives, and the importance of its decrees. in , henry ii. created, besides these, an inferior court in each bailiwick, the duties of which were to hear, on appeal, all matters in which sums of less than two hundred livres were involved (fig. ). there existed, besides, a branch of the _grands-jours,_ occasionally sitting at poitiers, bayeux, and at some other central towns, in order to suppress the excesses which at times arose from religious dissensions and political controversy. the parliament of paris--or _great french parliament_, as it was called by philip v. and charles v., in edicts of the th of november, , and of the th of october, --was divided into four principal chambers: the grand chamber, the chamber of inquiry, the criminal chamber, and the chamber of appeal. it was composed of ordinary councillors, both clerical and lay; of honorary councillors, some of whom were ecclesiastics, and others members of the nobility; of masters of inquiry; and of a considerable number of officers of all ranks (figs. to ). it had at times as many as twenty-four presidents, one hundred and eighty-two councillors, four knights of honour, four masters of records; a public prosecutor's office was also attached, consisting of the king's counsel, an attorney-general and deputies, thus forming an assembly of from fifteen to twenty persons, called a _college_. amongst the inferior officers we may mention twenty-six ushers, four receivers-general of trust money, three commissioners for the receipt of goods which had been seized under distress, one treasurer and paymaster, three controllers, one physician, two surgeons, two apothecaries, one matron, one receiver of fines, one inspector of estates, several keepers of refreshment establishments, who resided within the precincts of the palace, sixty or eighty notaries, four or five hundred advocates, two hundred attorneys, besides registers and deputy registers. down to the reign of charles vi. ( -- ) members of parliament held their appointment by commissions granted by the king, and renewed eaeh session. from charles vi. to francis i. these appointments became royal charges; but from that time, owing to the office being so often prostituted for reward, it got more and more into disrepute. [illustration: fig. .--judge.--from a drawing in "proverbes, adages, &c.," manuscript of the fifteenth century, in the imperial library of paris.] louis xi. made the office of member of the parliament of paris a permanent one, and francis i. continued this privilege. in the supreme magistracy poured , , francs, which now would be worth fifteen or twenty times as much, into the state treasury, so as to enable members to sit permanently _sur les fleurs de lis_, and to obtain hereditary privileges. the hereditary transmission of office from father to son dealt a heavy blow at the popularity of the parliamentary body, which had already deeply suffered through shameful abuses, the enormity of the fees, the ignorance of some of the members, and the dissolute habits of many others. [illustration: fig. .--lawyer.--from the "danse des morts" of basle, engraved by mérian: in to, frankfort, .] [illustration: fig. .--barrister.--from a woodout in the "danse macabre:" guyot's edition, .] [illustration: fig. .--assembly of the provostship of the merchants of paris.--fac-simile of a woodcut in "ordonnances royaux de la jurisdiction de la prevoté des marchands et eschevinage de la ville de paris:" in small folio, goth. edition of paris, jacques nyverd, .] the châtelet, on the contrary, was less involved in intrigue, less occupied with politics, and was daily engaged in adjudicating in cases of litigation, and thus it rendered innumerable services in promoting the public welfare, and maintained, and even increased, the respect which it had enjoyed from the commencement of its existence. in , louis xii. required that the provost should possess the title of doctor _in utroque jure_, and that his officers, whom he made to hold their appointments for life, should be chosen from amongst the most distinguished counsellors at law. this excellent arrangement bore its fruits. as early as , the "usages of the city, provosty, and viscounty of paris," were published _in extenso_, and were then received with much ceremony at a solemn audience held on the th of march in the episcopal palace, and were deposited among the archives of the châtelet (fig. ). the parliament held a very different line of policy from that adopted by the châtelet, which only took a political part in the religious troubles of protestantism and the league with a view to serve and defend the cause of the people. in spite of its fits of personal animosity, and its rebellious freaks, parliament remained almost invariably attached to the side of the king and the court. it always leaned to the absolute maintenance of things as they were, instead of following progress and changes which time necessitated. it was for severe measures, for intimidation more than for gentleness and toleration, and it yielded sooner or later to the injunctions and admonitions of the king, although, at the same time, it often disapproved the acts which it was asked to sanction. [illustration: fig. .--seal of king chilpéric, found in his tomb at tournay in .] secret tribunals. the old man of the mountain and his followers in syria.--the castle of alamond, paradise of assassins.--charlemagne the founder of secret tribunals amongst the saxons.--the holy vehme.--organization of the tribunal of the _terre rouge_, and modes adopted in its procedures.--condemnations and execution of sentences.--the truth respecting the free judges of westphalia.--duration and fall of the vehmic tribunal.--council of ten in venice; its code and secret decisions.--end of the council of ten. during the middle ages, human life was generally held in small respect; various judicial institutions--if not altogether secret, at least more or less enveloped in mystery--were remarkable for being founded on the monstrous right of issuing the most severe sentences with closed doors, and of executing these sentences with inflexible rigour on individuals who had not been allowed the slightest chance of defending themselves. while passing judgment in secret, they often openly dealt blows as unexpected and terrible as they were fatal. therefore, the most innocent and the most daring trembled at the very name of the _free judges of the terre-rouge,_ an institution which adopted westphalia as the special, or rather as the central, region of its authority; the _council of ten_ exercised their power in venice and the states of the republic; and the _assassins_ of syria, in the time of st. louis, made more than one invasion into christian europe. we must nevertheless acknowledge that, terrible as these mysterious institutions were, the general credulity, the gross ignorance of the masses, and the love of the marvellous, helped not a little to render them even more outrageous and alarming than they really were. marco polo, the celebrated venetian traveller of the thirteenth century, says, "we will speak of the old man of the mountain. this prince was named alaodin. he had a lovely garden full of all manner of trees and fruits, in a beautiful valley, surrounded by high hills; and all round these plantations were various palaces and pavilions, decorated with works of art in gold, with paintings, and with furniture of silk. therein were to be seen rivulets of wine, as well as milk, honey, and gentle streams of limpid water. he had placed therein damsels of transcendent beauty and endowed with great charms, who were taught to sing and to play all manner of instruments; they were dressed in silk and gold, and continually walked in these gardens and palaces. the reasons for which the old man had these palaces built were the following. mahomet having said that those who should obey his will should go to paradise, and there find all kinds of luxuries, this prince wished it to be believed that he was the prophet and companion of mahomet, and that he had the power of sending whom he chose to paradise. no one could succeed in entering the garden, because an impregnable castle had been built at the entrance of the valley, and it could only be approached by a covered and secret way. the old man had in his court some young men from ten to twenty years of age, chosen from those inhabitants of the hills who seemed to him capable of bearing arms, and who were bold and courageous. from time to time he administered a certain drink to ten or twelve of these young men, which sent them to sleep, and when they were in deep stupor, he had them carried into the garden. when they awoke, they saw all we have described: they were surrounded by the young damsels, who sang, played instruments together, caressed them, played all sorts of games, and presented them with the most exquisite wines and meats (fig. ). so that these young men, satiated with such pleasures, did not doubt that they were in paradise, and would willingly have never gone out of it again. "at the end of four or five days, the old man sent them to sleep again, and had them removed from the garden in the same way in which they had been brought in. he then called them before him, and asked them where they had been. 'by your grace, lord,' they answered, 'we have been in paradise.' and then they related, in the presence of everybody, what they had seen there. this tale excited the astonishment of all those who heard it, and the desire that they might be equally fortunate. the old man would then formally announce to those who were present, as follows: 'thus saith the law of our prophet, he causes all who fight for their lord to enter into paradise; if you obey me you shall enjoy that happiness.' by such words and plans this prince had so accustomed them to believe in him, that he whom he ordered to die for his service considered himself lucky. all the nobles or other enemies of the old man of the mountain were put to death by the assassins in his service; for none of them feared death, provided he complied with the orders and wishes of his lord. however powerful a man might be, therefore, if he was an enemy of the old man's, he was sure to meet with an untimely end." [illustration: fig. .--the castle of alamond and its enchantments.--fac-simile of a miniature in "marco polo's travels," manuscript of the fifteenth. century, in the library of the arsenal of paris.] in his story, which we translate literally from the original, written in ancient french, the venerable traveller attributes the origin of this singular system of exercising power over the minds of persons to a prince who in reality did but keep up a tradition of his family; for the alaodin herein mentioned is no other than a successor of the famous hassan, son of ali, who, in the middle of the eleventh century, took advantage of the wars which devastated asia to create himself a kingdom, comprising the three provinces of turkistan, djebel, and syria. hassan had embraced the doctrine of the ishmaelian sect, who pretended to explain allegorically all the precepts of the mahometan religion, and who did away with public worship, and originated a creed which was altogether philosophical. he made himself the chief exponent of this doctrine, which, by its very simplicity, was sure to attract to him many people of simple and sincere minds. attacked by the troops of the sultan sindgar, he defended himself vigorously and not unsuccessfully; but, fearing lest he should fall in an unequal and protracted struggle against an adversary more powerful than himself, he had recourse to cunning so as to obtain peace. he entranced, or fascinated probably, by means analogous to those related by marco polo, a slave, who had the daring, during sindgar's sleep, to stick a sharp dagger in the ground by the side of the sultan's head. on waking, sindgar was much alarmed. a few days after, hassan wrote to him, "if one had not good intentions towards the sultan, one might have driven the dagger, which was stuck in the earth by his head, into his bosom." the sultan sindgar then made peace with the chief of the ishmaelians, whose dynasty lasted for one hundred and seventy years. the castle of alamond, built on the confines of persia, on the top of a high mountain surrounded with trees, after having been the usual residence of hassan, became that of his successors. as in the native language the same word means both _prince_ and _old man_, the crusaders who had heard the word pronounced confounded the two, and gave the name of _old man of the mountain_ to the ishmaelian prince at that time inhabiting the castle of alamond, a name which has remained famous in history since the period when the sire de joinville published his "mémoires." ancient authors call the subjects of hassan, _haschichini, heississini, assissini, assassini_, various forms of the same expression, which, in fact, has passed into french with a signification which recalls the sanguinary exploits of the ishmaelians. in seeking for the etymology of this name, one must suppose that haschichini is the latin transformation of the arabic word hachychy, the name of the sect of which we are speaking, because the ecstacies during which they believed themselves removed to paradise were produced by means of _haschisch_ or _haschischa_. we know that this inebriating preparation, extracted from hemp, really produces the most strange and delicious hallucinations on those who use it. all travellers who have visited the east agree in saying that its effects are very superior to those of opium. we evidently must attribute to some ecstatic vision the supposed existence of the enchanted gardens, which marco polo described from popular tales, and which, of course, never existed but in the imagination of the young men, who were either mentally excited after fasting and prayer, or intoxicated by the haschischa, and consequently for a time lulled in dreams of celestial bliss which they imagined awaited them under the guidance of hassan and his descendants. [illustration: fig. .--the old man of the mountain giving orders to his followers.--fac-simile of a miniature in the "travels of marco polo," manuscript of the fifteenth century (library of the arsenal of paris).] the haschischini, whom certain contemporary historians describe to us as infatuated by the hope of some future boundless felicity, owe their melancholy celebrity solely to the blind obedience with which they executed the orders of their chiefs, and to the coolness with which they sought the favourable moment for fulfilling their sanguinary missions (fig. ). the old man of the mountain (the master of daggers, _magister cultellorum_, as he is also called by the chronicler jacques de vintry), was almost continually at war with the mussulman princes who reigned from the banks of the nile to the borders of the caspian sea. he continually opposed them with the steel of his fanatical emissaries; at times, also, making a traffic and merchandise of murder, he treated for a money payment with the sultans or emirs, who were desirous of ridding themselves of an enemy. the ishmaelians thus put to death a number of princes and mahometan nobles; but, at the time of the crusades, religious zeal having incited them against the christians, they found more than one notable victim in the ranks of the crusaders. conrad, marquis of montferrat, was assassinated by them; the great salah-eddin (saladin) himself narrowly escaped them; richard coeur de lion and philip augustus were pointed out to the assassins by the old man, who subsequently, on hearing of the immense preparations which louis ix. was making for the holy war, had the daring to send two of his followers to france, and even into paris, with orders to kill that monarch in the midst of his court. this king, after having again escaped, during his sojourn in palestine, from the murderous attempts of the savage messengers of the prince of alamond, succeeded, by his courage, his firmness, and his virtues, in inspiring these fanatics with so much respect, that their chief, looking upon him as protected by heaven, asked for his friendship, and offered him presents, amongst which was a magnificent set of chessmen, in crystal, ornamented with gold and amber. the successors of hassan, simultaneously attacked by the moguls under houlayon, and by the egyptians commanded by the sultan bibars, were conquered and dispossessed of their states towards the middle of the thirteenth century; but, long after, the ishmaelians, either because their chiefs sought to recover their power, or because they had placed their daggers at the disposal of some foreign foe, continued notorious in history. at last the sect became extinct, or, at least, retired into obscurity, and renounced its murderous profession, which had for so long made its members such objects of terror. we have thus seen how a legion of fanatics in the east made themselves the blind and formidable tools of a religious and political chieftain, who was no less ambitious than revengeful. if we now turn our attention to germany, we shall here find, almost at the same period, a local institution which, although very different from the sanguinary court of the old man of the mountain, was of an equally terrible and mysterious character. we must not, however, look at it from the same point of view, for, having been founded with the object of furthering and defending the establishment of a regular social state, which had been approved and sanctioned by the sovereigns, and recognised by the church, it at times rendered great service to the cause of justice and humanity at a period when might usurped right, and when the excesses and the crimes of shameless evil-doers, and of petty tyrants, entrenched in their impregnable strongholds, were but too often made lawful from the simple fact that there was no power to oppose them. the secret tribunal of westphalia, which held its sittings and passed sentence in private, and which carried out its decrees on the spot, and whose rules, laws, and actions were enveloped in deep mystery, must unquestionably be looked upon as one of the most remarkable institutions of the middle ages. [illustration: figs. and .--hermensul or irmensul and crodon, idols of the ancient saxons.--fac-simile of a woodcut in the "annales circuli westphaliæ," by herman stangefol: in to, .--the idol hermensul appears to have presided over executive justice, the attributes of which it holds in its hands.] it would be difficult to state exactly at what period this formidable institution was established. a few writers, and amongst these sebastian munster, wish us to believe that it was founded by charlemagne himself. they affirm that this monarch, having subjugated the saxons to his sway, and having forced them to be baptized, created a secret tribunal, the duties of which were to watch over them, in order that they might not return to the errors of paganism. however, the saxons were incorrigible, and, although christians, they still carried on the worship of their idols (figs. and ); and, for this reason, it is said by these authorities that the laws of the tribunal of westphalia were founded by charlemagne. it is well known that from the ninth to the thirteenth century, all that part of germany between the rhine and the weser suffered under the most complete anarchy. in consequence of this, and of the increase of crime which remained unpunished, energetic men established a rigorous jurisdiction, which, to a certain extent, suppressed these barbarous disorders, and gave some assurance to social intercourse; but the very mystery which gave weight to the institution was the cause of its origin being unknown. it is only mentioned, and then cursorily, in historical documents towards the early part of the fifteenth century. this court of judicature received the name of _femgericht_, or _vehmgericht_, which means vehmic tribunal. the origin of the word _fem_, _vehm_, or _fam_, which has given rise to many scientific discussions, still remains in doubt. the most generally accepted opinion is, that it is derived from a latin expression--_vemi_ (_vae mihi_), "woe is me!" the special dominion over which the vehmic tribunal reigned supreme was westphalia, and the country which was subjected to its laws was designated as the _terre rouge_. there was no assembly of this tribunal beyond the limits of this terre rouge, but it would be quite impossible to define these limits with any accuracy. however, the free judges, assuming the right of suppressing certain crimes committed beyond their territory, on more than one occasion summoned persons living in various parts of germany, and even in provinces far from westphalia, to appear before them. we do not know all the localities wherein the vehmic tribunal sat; but the most celebrated of them, and the one which served as a model for all the rest, held its sittings under a lime-tree, in front of the castle-gate of dortmund (fig. ). there the chapters-general of the association usually assembled; and, on certain occasions, several thousands of the free judges were to be seen there. each tribunal was composed of an unlimited number of free judges, under the presidency of a free count, who was charged with the higher administration of vehmic justice. a _free county_ generally comprised several free tribunals, or _friestuhle_. the free count, who was chosen by the prince of the territory in which the tribunal sat, had two courts, one secret, the other public. the public assizes, which took place at least three times a year, were announced fourteen days beforehand, and any person living within the _county_, and who was summoned before the free count, was bound to appear, and to answer all questions which might be put to him. it was required that the free judges (who are generally mentioned as _femnoten_--that is to say, _sages_--and who are, besides, denoted by writers of the time by the most honourable epithets: such as, "serious men," "very pious," "of very pure morals," "lovers of justice," &c.) should be persons who had been born in lawful wedlock, and on german soil; they were not allowed to belong to any religions order, or to have ever themselves been summoned before the vehmic tribunal. they were nominated by the free counts, but subject to the approval of their sovereigns. they were not allowed to sit as judges before having been initiated into the mysteries of the tribunals. [illustration: fig. .--view of the town of dortmund in the sixteenth century.--from an engraving on copper in p. bertius's "theatrum geographicum."] the initiation of a free judge was accompanied by extraordinary formalities. the candidate appeared bareheaded; he knelt down, and, placing two fingers of his right hand on his naked sword and on a rope, he took oath to adhere to the laws and customs of the holy tribunal, to devote his five senses to it, and not to allow himself to be allured therefrom either by silver, gold, or even precious stones; to forward the interests of the tribunal "above everything illumined by the sun, and all that the rain reaches;" and to defend them "against everything which is between heaven and earth." the candidate was then given the sign by which members of the association recognised each other. this sign has remained unknown; and nothing, even in the deeds of the vehmic archives, leads one even to guess what it was, and every hypothesis on this subject must be looked upon as uncertain or erroneous. by one of the fundamental statutes of the terre rouge, a member convicted of betraying the secrets of the order was condemned to the most cruel punishment; but we have every reason for asserting that this sentence was never carried out, or even issued against a free judge. [illustration: fig. .--the landgrave of thuringia and his wife.--fac-simile of a miniature in the collection of the minnesinger, manuscript of the fourteenth century.] in one case alone during the fourteenth century, was an accusation of this sort made, and that proved to be groundless. it would have been considered the height of treason to have given a relation, or a friend, the slightest hint that he was being pursued, or that he had been condemned by the holy vehme, in order that he might seek refuge by flight. and in consequence of this, there was a general mistrust of any one belonging to the tribunal, so much so that "a brother," says a german writer, "often feared his brother, and hospitality was no longer possible." the functions of free judges consisted in going about the country seeking out crimes, denouncing them, and inflicting immediate punishment on any evil-doer caught in the act (figs. and ). the free judges might assemble provided there were at least seven in number to constitute a tribunal; but we hear of as many as three hundred assisting at a meeting. [illustration: figs. and .--free judges.--fac-simile of two woodcuts in the "cosmographie universelle" of munster: in folio, .] it has been erroneously stated that the sittings of the vehmic tribunals were held at night in the depths of forests, or in subterranean places; but it appears that all criminal business was first heard in public, and could only be subjected to a secret judgment when the accused had failed either publicly to justify himself or to appear in person. when three free judges caught a malefactor in the very act, they could seize him, judge him, and inflict the penalty on the spot. in other cases, when a tribunal considered that it should pursue an individual, it summoned him to appear before it. the summons had to be written, without erasures, on a large sheet of vellum, and to bear at least seven seals--that of the free count, and those of six free judges; and these seals generally represented either a man in full armour holding a sword, or a simple sword blade, or other analagous emblems (figs. to ). two free judges delivered the summons personally where a member of the association was concerned; but if the summons affected an individual who was not of the vehmic order, a sworn messenger bore it, and placed it in the very hands of the person, or slipped it into his house. the time given for putting in an appearance was originally six weeks and three days at least, but at a later period this time was shortened. the writ of summons was repeated three times, and each time bore a greater number of seals of free judges, so as to verify the legality of the instrument. the accused, whether guilty or not, was liable to a fine for not answering the first summons, unless he could prove that it was impossible for him to have done so. if he failed to appear on the third summons, he was finally condemned _en corps et en honneur_. [illustration: fig. .--seal of herman loseckin, free count of medebach, in .] [illustration: fig. .--seal of the free count, hans vollmar von twern, at freyenhagen, in - .] [illustration: fig. .--seal of johann croppe, free count of kogelnberg, in .] we have but imperfect information as to the formalities in use in the vehmic tribunals. but we know that the sittings were invested with a certain solemnity and pomp. a naked sword--emblematical of justice, and recalling our saviour's cross in the shape of its handle--and a rope--emblematical of the punishment deserved by the guilty--were placed on the table before the president. the judges were bareheaded, with bare hands, and each wore a cloak over his shoulder, and carried no arms of any sort. [illustration: fig. .--the duke of saxony and the marquis of brandenburg.--from the "theatrum orbis terrarum sive tabula veteris geographiae," in folio. engraved by wieriex, after gérard de jode.] the plaintiff and the defendant were each allowed to produce thirty witnesses. the defendant could either defend himself, or entrust his case to an advocate whom he brought with him. at first, any free judge being defendant in a suit, enjoyed the privilege of justifying himself on oath; but it having been discovered that this privilege was abused, all persons, of whatever station, were compelled to be confronted with the other side. the witnesses, who were subpoened by either accuser or accused, had to give their evidence according to the truth, dispassionately and voluntarily. in the event of the accused not succeeding in bringing sufficient testimony to clear himself, the prosecutor claimed a verdict in his favour from the free count presiding at the tribunal, who appointed one of the free judges to declare it. in case the free judge did not feel satisfied as to the guilt, he could, by making oath, temporarily divest himself of his office, which devolved upon a second, a third, or even a fourth free judge. if four free judges were unable to decide, the matter was referred to another sitting; for judgment had to be pronounced by the appointed free judge at the sitting. the various penalties for different crimes were left to the decision of the tribunal. the rules are silent on the subject, and simply state that the culprits will be punished "according to the authority of the secret bench." the _royale, i.e._ capital punishment, was strictly applied in all serious cases, and the manner of execution most in use was hanging (figs. , ). a person accused who did not appear after the third summons, was out-lawed by a terrible sentence, which deprived him of all rights, of common peace, and forbad him the company of all christians; by the wording of this sentence, his wife was looked upon as a widow, his children as orphans; his neck was abandoned to the birds of the air, and his body to the beasts of the field, "but his soul was recommended to god." at the expiration of one year and a day, if the culprit had not appeared, or had not established his common rights, all his goods were confiscated, and appropriated by the king or emperor. when the condemnation referred to a prince, a town, or a corporation (for the accusations of the tribunal frequently were issued against groups of individuals), it caused the loss of all honour, authority, and privileges. the free count, in pronouncing the sentence, threw the rope, which was before him, on to the ground; the free judges spat upon it, and the name of the culprit was inscribed on the book of blood. the sentence was kept secret; the prosecutor alone was informed of it by a written notice, which was sealed with seven seals. when the condemned was present, the execution took place immediately, and, according to the custom of the middle ages, its carrying out was deputed to the youngest of the free judges. the members of the vehmic association enjoyed the privilege of being hung seven feet higher than those who were not associates. the vehmic judgments were, however, liable to be appealed against: the accused might, at the sitting, appeal either to what was termed the imperial chamber, a general chapter of the association, which assembled at dortmund, or (and this was the more frequent custom) to the emperor, or ruler of the country, whether he were king, prince, duke, or bishop, provided that these authorities belonged to the association. the revision of the judgment could only be entrusted to members of the tribunal, who, in their turn, could only act in westphalia. the condemned might also appeal to the lieutenant-general of the emperor, or to the grand master of the holy vehme, a title which, from the remotest times, was given to the archbishop of cologne. there are even instances of appeals having been made to the councils and to the popes, although the vehmic association never had any communication or intercourse with the court of rome. we must not forget a very curious privilege which, in certain cases, was left to the culprit as a last resource; he might appeal to the emperor, and solicit an order which required the execution of the sentence to be applied after a delay _of one hundred years, six weeks, and one day_. [illustration: figs. and .--execution of the sentences of the secret tribunal.--fac-simile of woodcuts in the "cosmographie universelle" of munster: in folio, basle, .] the chapter-general of the association was generally summoned once a year by the emperor or his lieutenant, and assembled either at dortmund or arensberg, in order to receive the returns of causes judged by the various vehmic tribunals; to hear the changes which had taken place among the members of the order; to receive the free judges; to hear appeals; and, lastly, to decide upon reforms to be introduced into the rules. these reforms usually had reference to the connection of imperial authority with the members of the secret jurisdiction, and were generally suggested by the emperors, who were jealous of the increasing power of the association. from what we have shown, on the authority of authentic documents, we understand how untrue is the tradition, or rather the popular idea, that the _secret tribunal_ was an assembly of bloodthirsty judges, secretly perpetrating acts of mere cruelty, without any but arbitrary laws. it is clear, on the contrary, that it was a regular institution, having, it is true, a most mysterious and complex organization, but simply acting in virtue of legal prescriptions, which were rigorously laid down, and arranged in a sort of code which did honour to the wisdom of those who had created it. it was towards the end of the fourteenth and the beginning of the fifteenth centuries that the vehmic jurisdiction reached its highest degree of power; its name was only pronounced in a whisper and with trembling; its orders were received with immediate submission, and its chastisements always fell upon the guilty and those who resisted its authority. there cannot be a doubt but that the westphalian tribunal prevented many great crimes and public misfortunes by putting a wholesome check on the nobles, who were ever ready to place themselves above all human authority; and by punishing, with pitiless severity, the audacity of bandits, who would otherwise have been encouraged to commit the most daring acts with almost the certainty of escaping with impunity. but the holy vehme, blinded by the terror it inspired, was not long without displaying the most extravagant assumption of power, and digressing from the strict path to which its action should have been confined. it summoned before its tribunals princes, who openly denied its authority, and cities, which did not condescend to answer to its behests. in the fifteenth century, the free judges were composed of men who could not be called of unimpeachable integrity; many persons of doubtful morals having been raised to the dignity by party influence and by money. the partiality and the spirit of revenge which at times prompted their judgments, were complained of; they were accused of being open to corruption; and this accusation appears to have been but too well founded. it is known that, according to a feudal practice established in the vehmic system, every new free judge was obliged to make a present to the free count who had admitted him into the order; and the free counts did not hesitate to make this an important source of revenue to themselves by admitting, according to an historian, "many people as _judges_ who, in reality, deserved to be _judged_." [illustration: fig. .--view of cologne in the sixteenth century.--from a copper-plate in the "theatrum geographicum" of p. bertius. the three large stars represent, it is supposed, the three persons of the trinity, and the seven small ones the electors of the empire.] [illustration: fig. .--german knights (fifteenth century).--from a plate in the "life of the emperor maximilian," engraved by burgmayer, from drawings by albert durer.] owing to the most flagrant and most insolent abuses of power, the ancient authority of the institution became gradually more and more shaken. on one occasion, for instance, in answer to a summons issued by the imperial tribunal against some free judges, the tribunal of the terre-rouge had the daring to summon the emperor frederick iii. before it to answer for this want of respect. on another occasion, a certain free count, jealous of one of his associates, hung him with his own hands while out on a hunting excursion, alleging that his rank of free judge authorised him to execute summary justice. from that time there was a perpetual cry of horror and indignation against a judicial institution which thus interpreted its duties, and before long the state undertook the suppression of these secret tribunals. the first idea of this was formed by the electors of the empire at the diet of trèves in . the archbishop of cologne succeeded, however, in parrying the blow, by convoking the chapter-general of the order, on the plea of the necessity of reform. but, besides being essentially corrupt, the holy vehme had really run its course, and it gradually became effete as, by degrees, a better organized and more defined social and political state succeeded to the confused anarchy of the middle ages, and as the princes and free towns adopted the custom of dispensing justice either in person or through regular tribunals. its proceedings, becoming more and more summary and rigorous, daily gave rise to feelings of greater and greater abhorrence. the common saying over all germany was, "they first hang you, and afterwards inquire into your innocence." on all sides opposition arose against the jurisdiction of the free judges. princes, bishops, cities, and citizens, agreed instinctively to counteract this worn-out and degenerate institution. the struggle was long and tedious. during the last convulsions of the expiring holy vehme, there was more than one sanguinary episode, both on the side of the free judges themselves, as well as on that of their adversaries. occasionally the secret tribunal broke out into fresh signs of life, and proclaimed its existence by some terrible execution; and at times, also, its members paid dearly for their acts. on one occasion, in , fourteen free judges, whom kaspar schwitz, count of oettingen, caused to be seized, were already tied up in bags, and about to be drowned, when the mob, pitying their fate, asked for and obtained their reprieve. the death-blow to the vehmic tribunal was struck by its own hand. it condenmed summarily, and executed without regular procedure, an inhabitant of munster, who used to scandalize the town by his profligacy. he was arrested at night, led to a small wood, where the free judges awaited him, and condemned to death without being allowed an advocate; and, after being refused a respite even of a few hours, that he might make his peace with heaven, he was confessed by a monk, and his head was severed from his body by the executioner on the spot. [illustration: fig. .--interior court of the palace of the doges of venice: buildings in which are the cells and _the leads_.--from cesare vecellio.] dating from this tragical event, which excited universal indignation, the authority of the free judges gradually declined, and, at last, the institution became almost defunct, and merely confined itself to occasionally adjudicating in simple civil matters. we must not omit to mention the council of ten of venice when speaking on the subject of arbitrary executions and of tyrannical and implacable justice. in some respects it was more notorious than the vehmic tribunal, exercising as it did a no less mysterious power, and inspiring equal terror, though in other countries. this secret tribunal was created after a revolt which burst on the republic of venice on the th of june, . at first it was only instituted for two months, but, after various successive prorogations, it was confirmed for five years, on the st of january, . in it was again appointed for five years; on the nd of may, , for ten years more; and at last was established permanently. in the fifteenth century the authority of the council of ten was consolidated and rendered more energetic by the creation of the inquisitors of state. these were three in number, elected by the council of ten; and the citizens on whom the votes fell could not refuse the functions which were thus spontaneously, and often unexpectedly, assigned to them. the authority of inquisitors of state was declared to be "unlimited." in order to show the power and mode of action of this terrible tribunal, it is perhaps better to make a few extracts from the code of rules which it established for itself in june, . this document--several manuscript copies of which are to be found in the public libraries of paris--says, "the inquisitors may proceed against any person whomsoever, no rank giving the right of exemption from their jurisdiction. they may pronounce any sentence, even that of death; only their final sentences must be passed unanimously. they shall have complete charge of the prisons and _the leads_ (fig. ). they may draw at sight from the treasury of the council of ten, without having to give any account of the use made of the funds placed in their hands. "the proceedings of the tribunal shall always be secret; its members shall wear no distinctive badge. no open arrests shall be made. the chief of the bailiffs (_sbirri_) shall avoid making domiciliary arrests, but he shall try to seize the culprit unawares, away from his home, and so securely get him under _the leads_ of the palace of the doges. when the tribunal shall deem the death of any person necessary, the execution shall never be public; the condemned shall be drowned at night in the orfano canal. "the tribunal shall authorise the generals commanding in cyprus or in candia, in the event of its being for the welfare of the republic, to cause any patrician or other influential person in either of those venetian provinces to disappear, or to be assassinated secretly, if such a measure should conscientiously appear to them indispensable; but they shall be answerable before god for it. [illustration: fig. .--member of the brotherhood of death, whose duty it was to accompany those sentenced to death.--from cesare vecellio.] "if any workman shall practise in a foreign land any art or craft to the detriment of the republic, he shall be ordered to return to his country; and should he not obey, all his nearest relatives shall be imprisoned, in order that his affection for them may bring him to obedience. should he still persist in his disobedience, secret measures shall be taken to put him to death, wherever he may be. "if a venetian noble reveal to the tribunal propositions which have been made to him by some foreign ambassador, the agent, excepting it should be the ambassador himself, shall be immediately carried off and drowned. "if a patrician having committed any misdeed shall take refuge under the protection of a foreign ambassador, he shall be put to death forthwith. "if any noble in full senate take upon himself to question the authority of the council of ten, and persist in attacking it, he shall be allowed to speak without interruption; immediately afterwards he shall be arrested, and instructions as to his trial shall be given, so that he may be judged by the ordinary tribunals; and, if this does not succeed in preventing his proceedings, he shall be put to death secretly. "in case of a complaint against one of the heads of the council of ten, the instructions shall be made secretly, and, in case of sentence of death, poison shall be the agent selected. "should any dissatisfied noble speak ill of the government, he shall first be forbidden to appear in the councils and public places for two years. should he not obey, or should he repeat the offence after the two years, he shall be drowned as incorrigible...." &c. one can easily understand that in order to carry out these laws the most careful measures were taken to organize a system of espionage. the nobles were subjected to a rigorous supervision; the privacy of letters was not respected; an ambassador was never lost sight of, and his smallest acts were narrowly watched. any one who dared to throw obstacles in the way of the spies employed by the council of ten, was put on the rack, and "made afterwards to receive the punishment which the state inquisitors might consider befitting." whole pages of the secret statutes bear witness that lying and fraud formed the basis of all the diplomatic relations of the venetian government. nevertheless the council of ten, which was solely instituted with the view of watching over the safety of the republic, could not inter-meddle in civil cases, and its members were forbidden to hold any sort of communication with foreigners. [illustration: figs. and .--chiefs of sbirri, in the secret service of the council of ten.--from cesare vecellio.] the list of names of venetian nobles and distinguished persons who became victims to the suspicions tyranny of the council of ten, and of the state inquisitors, would be very long and of little interest. we may mention a few, however. we find that in , peter justiniani, and, in , stephen monalesco, were punished for holding secret transactions with the lord of padua; in , john nogarola, for having tried to set fire to verona; in , borromeo memo, for having uttered defamatory speeches against the podestat of padua. not only was this borromeo memo punished, but three witnesses of the crime which was imputed to him were condemned to a year's imprisonment and three years' banishment, for not having denounced the deed "between evening and morning." in we find the council of ten attacking the doge himself, by requiring the abdication of francis foscari. a century earlier it had caused the doge, marino faliero, who was convicted of having taken part in a plot to destroy the influence of the nobility, to be executed on the very staircase of the ducal palace, where allegiance to the republic was usually sworn. [illustration: fig. .--doge of venice. costume before the sixteenth century. from cesare vecellio.] [illustration: fig. .--doge of venice in ceremonial costume of the sixteenth century. from cesare vecellio.] like the holy vehme, the council of ten compromised its authority by the abuse of power. in , unknown to the senate, and in spite of the well-prescribed limit of its authority, it concluded a treaty with the turkish sultan, soliman ii. the senate at first concealed its indignation at this abuse of power, but, in , it took measures so as considerably to restrain the powers of the council of ten, which, from that date, only existed in name. [illustration: fig. .--seal of the free count heinrich beckmann, of medebach. ( -- ).] punishments. refinements of penal cruelty.--tortures for different purposes.--water, screw-boards, and the rack.--the executioner.--female executioners.--tortures.--amende honorable.--torture of fire, real and feigned.--auto-da-fé.--red-hot brazier or basin.--beheading.--quartering.--wheel.--garotte.--hanging.--the whip.--the pillory.--the arquebuse.--tickling.--flaying.--drowning.--imprisonment.--regulations of prisons.--the iron cage.--the leads of venice. "it is very sad," says the learned m. de villegille, "to observe the infinite variety of tortures which have existed since the beginning of the world. it is, in fact, difficult to realise the amount of ingenuity exercised by men in inventing new tortures, in order to give themselves the satisfaction of seeing their fellow-creatures agonizing in the most awful sufferings." in entering upon the subject of ancient modes of punishment, we must first speak of the torture, which, according to the received phrase, might be either _previous_ or _preparatory: previous_, when it consisted of a torture which the condemned had to endure previous to capital punishment; and _preparatory_, when it was applied in order to elicit from the culprit an avowal of his crime, or of that of his accomplices. it was also called _ordinary_, or _extraordinary_, according to the duration or violence with which it was inflicted. in some cases the torture lasted five or six consecutive hours; in others, it rarely exceeded an hour. hippolyte de marsillis, the learned and venerable jurisconsult of bologna, who lived at the beginning of the fifteenth century, mentions fourteen ways of inflicting torture. the compression of the limbs by special instruments, or by ropes only; injection of water, vinegar, or oil, into the body of the accused; application of hot pitch, and starvation, were the processes most in use. other means, which were more or less applied according to the fancy of the magistrate and the tormentor or executioner, were remarkable for their singular atrocities. for instance, placing hot eggs under the arm-pits; introducing dice between the skin and flesh; tying lighted candles to the fingers, so that they might be consumed simultaneously with the wax; letting water trickle drop by drop from a great height on the stomach; and also the custom, which was, according to writers on criminal matters, an indescribable torture, of watering the feet with salt water and allowing goats to lick them. however, every country had special customs as to the manner of applying torture. in france, too, the torture varied according to the provinces, or rather according to the parliaments. for instance, in brittany the culprit, tied in an iron chair, was gradually brought near a blazing furnace. in normandy, one thumb was squeezed in a screw in the ordinary, and both thumbs in the extraordinary torture. at autun, after high boots made of spongy leather had been placed on the culprit's feet, he was tied on to a table near a large fire, and a quantity of boiling water was poured on the boots, which penetrated the leather, ate away the flesh, and even dissolved the bones of the victim. at orleans, for the ordinary torture the accused was stripped half naked, and his hands were tightly tied behind his back, with a ring fixed between them. then by means of a rope fastened to this ring, they raised the poor man, who had a weight of one hundred and eighty pounds attached to his feet, a certain height from the ground. for the extraordinary torture, which then took the name of _estrapade_, they raised the victim, with two hundred and fifty pounds attached to his feet, to the ceiling by means of a capstan; he was then allowed to fall several times successively by jerks to the level of the ground, by which means his arms and legs were completely dislocated (fig. ). at avignon, the ordinary torture consisted in hanging the accused by the wrists, with a heavy iron ball at each foot; for the extraordinary torture, which was then much in use in italy under the name of _veglia_, the body was stretched horizontally by means of ropes passing through rings riveted into the wall, and attached to the four limbs, the only support given to the culprit being the point of a stake cut in a diamond shape, which just touched the end of the back-bone. a doctor and a surgeon were always present, feeling the pulse at the temples of the patient, so as to be able to judge of the moment when he could not any longer bear the pain. [illustration: fig. .--the estrapade, or question extraordinary.--fac-simile of a woodcut in the work of j. millaeus, "praxis criminis persequendi." folio, paris, .] [illustration: fig. .--the water torture.--fac-simile of a woodcut in j. damhoudère's "praxis rerum criminalium:" in to, antwerp, .] at that moment he was untied, hot fomentations were used to revive him, restoratives were administered, and, as soon as he had recovered a little strength, he was again put to the torture, which went on thus for six consecutive hours. in paris, for a long time, the _water torture_ was in use; this was the most easily borne, and the least dangerous. a person undergoing it was tied to a board which was supported horizontally on two trestles. by means of a horn, acting as a funnel, and whilst his nose was being pinched, so as to force him to swallow, they slowly poured four _coquemars_ (about nine pints) of water into his mouth; this was for the ordinary torture. for the extraordinary, double that quantity was poured in (fig. ). when the torture was ended, the victim was untied, "and taken to be warmed in the kitchen," says the old text. at a later period, the _brodequins_ were preferred. for this torture, the victim was placed in a sitting posture on a massive bench, with strong narrow boards fixed inside and outside of each leg, which were tightly bound together with strong rope; wedges were then driven in between the centre boards with a mallet; four wedges in the ordinary and eight in the extraordinary torture. not unfrequently during the latter operation the bones of the legs were literally burst. the _brodequins_ which were often used for ordinary torture were stockings of parchment, into which it was easy enough to get the feet when it was wet, but which, on being held near the fire, shrunk so considerably that it caused insufferable agony to the wearer. whatever manner of torture was applied, the accused, before undergoing it, was forced to remain eight or ten hours without eating. damhoudère, in his famous technical work, called "practique et enchiridion des causes criminelles" ( ), also recommends that the hair should be carefully shaved from the bodies of persons about to undergo examination by torture, for fear of their concealing some countercharm which would render them insensible to bodily pain. the same author also recommends, as a rule, when there are several persons "to be placed on the rack" for the same deed, to begin with those from whom it would be most probable that confession would be first extorted. thus, for instance, when a man and a woman were to suffer one after the other, he recommended that the woman be first tortured, as being the weaker of the two; when a father and son were concerned, the son should be tortured in presence of the father, "who naturally fears more for his son than for himself." we thereby see that the judges were adepts in the art of adding moral to physical tortures. the barbarous custom of punishment by torture was on several occasions condemned by the church. as early as , we find, from pope nicholas v.'s letter to the bulgarians, that their custom of torturing the accused was considered contrary to divine as well as to human law: "for," says he, "a confession should be voluntary, and not forced. by means of the torture, an innocent man may suffer to the utmost without making any avowal; and, in such a case, what a crime for the judge! or the person may be subdued by pain, and may acknowledge himself guilty, although he be not so, which throws an equally great sin upon the judge." [illustration: fig. .--type of executioner in the decapitation of john the baptist (thirteenth century).--fac-simile of a miniature in the psalm-book of st. louis. manuscript preserved in the musée des souverains.] after having endured the _previous_ torture, the different phases of which were carried out by special tormentors or executioners, the condemned was at last handed over to the _maistre des haultes oeuvres_--that is to say, the _executioner_--whose special mission was that of sending culprits to another world (fig. ). [illustration: fig. .--swiss grand provost (fifteenth century).--from a painting in the "danse des morts" of basle, engraved by mérian.] the executioner did not hold the same position in all countries. for whereas in france, italy, and spain, a certain amount of odium was attached to this terrible craft, in germany, on the contrary, successfully carrying out a certain number of capital sentences was rewarded by titles and the privileges of nobility (fig. ). at reutlingen, in suabia, the last of the councillors admitted into the tribunal had to carry out the sentence with his own hand. in franconia, this painful duty fell upon the councillor who had last taken a wife. in france, the executioner, otherwise called the _king's sworn tormentor,_ was the lowest of the officers of justice. his letters of appointment, which he received from the king, had, nevertheless, to be registered in parliament; but, after having put the seal on them, it is said that the chancellor threw them under the table, in token of contempt. the executioner was generally forbidden to live within the precincts of the city, unless it was on the grounds where the pillory was situated; and, in some cases, so that he might not be mistaken amongst the people, he was forced to wear a particular coat, either of red or yellow. on the other hand, his duties ensured him certain privileges. in paris, he possessed the right of _havage_, which consisted in taking all that he could hold in his hand from every load of grain which was brought into market; however, in order that the grain might be preserved from ignominious contact, he levied his tax with a wooden spoon. he enjoyed many similar rights over most articles of consumption, independently of benefiting by several taxes or fines, such as the toll on the petit-pont, the tax on foreign traders, on boats arriving with fish, on dealers in herrings, watercress, &c.; and the fine of five sous which was levied on stray pigs (see previous chapter), &c. and, lastly, besides the personal property of the condemned, he received the rents from the shops and stalls surrounding the pillory, in which the retail fish trade was carried on. it appears that, in consequence of the receipts from these various duties forming a considerable source of revenue, the prestige of wealth by degrees dissipated the unfavourable impressions traditionally attached to the duties of executioner. at least, we have authority for supposing this, when, for instance, in , we see the paris executioner, who was then captain of the bourgeois militia, coming in that capacity to touch the hand of the duke of burgundy, on the occasion of his solemn entry into paris with queen isabel of bavaria. we may add that popular belief generally ascribed to the executioner a certain practical knowledge of medicine, which was supposed inherent in the profession itself; and the acquaintance with certain methods of cure unknown to doctors, was attributed to him; people went to buy from him the fat of culprits who had been hung, which was supposed to be a marvellous panacea. we may also remark that, in our day, the proficiency of the executioner in setting dislocated limbs is still proverbial in many countries. [illustration: fig. .--amende honorable before the tribunal.--fac-simile of a woodcut in j. damhoudère's "praxis rerum criminalium:" in to, antwerp, .] more than once during the thirteenth century the duties of the executioner were performed by women, but only in those cases in which their own sex was concerned; for it is expressly stated in an order of st. louis, that persons convicted of blasphemy shall be beaten with birch rods, "the men by men, and the women by women only, without the presence of men." this, however, was not long tolerated, for we know that a period soon arrived when women were exempted from a duty so little adapted to their physical weakness and moral sensitiveness. the learned writer on criminal cases, josse damhoudère, whom we have already mentioned, and whom we shall take as our special guide in the enumeration of the various tortures, specifies thirteen ways in which the executioner "carries out his executions," and places them in the following order:--"fire"--"the sword"--"mechanical force"--"quartering"--"the wheel"--"the fork"--"the gibbet"--"drawing"--"spiking"--"cutting off the ears"--"dismembering"--"flogging or beating"--and the "pillory." [illustration: fig. .--the punishment by fire.--fac-simile of a woodcut of the "cosmographie universelle" of munster: in folio, basle, .] but before entering upon the details of this revolting subject, we must state that, whatever punishment was inflicted upon a culprit, it was very rare that its execution had not been preceded by the _amende honorable_, which, in certain cases, constituted a distinct punishment, but which generally was but the prelude to the torture itself. the _amende honorable_ which was called _simple_ or _short_, took place without the assistance of the executioner in the council chamber, where the condemned, bareheaded and kneeling, had to state that "he had falsely said or done something against the authority of the king or the honour of some person" (fig. ). for the _amende honorable in figuris_--that is to say, in public--the condemned, in his shirt, barefooted, the rope round his neck, followed by the executioner, and holding in his hand a wax taper, with a weight, which was definitely specified in the sentence which had been passed upon him, but which was generally of two or four pounds, prostrated himself at the door of a church, where in a loud voice he had to confess his sin, and to beg the pardon of god and man. when a criminal had been condemned to be burnt, a stake was erected on the spot specially designed for the execution, and round it a pile was prepared, composed of alternate layers of straw and wood, and rising to about the height of a man. care was taken to leave a free space round the stake for the victim, and also a passage by which to lead him to it. having been stripped of his clothes, and dressed in a shirt smeared with sulphur, he had to walk to the centre of the pile through a narrow opening, and was then tightly bound to the stake with ropes and chains. after this, faggots and straw were thrown into the empty space through which he had passed to the stake, until he was entirely covered by them; the pile was then fired on all sides at once (fig. ). sometimes, the sentence was that the culprit should only be delivered to the flames after having been previously strangled. in this case, the dead corpse was then immediately placed where the victim would otherwise have been placed alive, and the punishment lost much of its horror. it often happened that the executioner, in order to shorten the sufferings of the condemned, whilst he prepared the pile, placed a large and pointed iron bar amongst the faggots and opposite the stake breast high, so that, directly the fire was lighted, the bar was quickly pushed against the victim, giving a mortal blow to the unfortunate wretch, who would otherwise have been slowly devoured by the flames. if, according to the wording of the sentence, the ashes of the criminal were to be scattered to the winds, as soon as it was possible to approach the centre of the burning pile, a few ashes were taken in a shovel and sprinkled in the air. they were not satisfied with burning the living, they also delivered to the flames the bodies of those who had died a natural death before their execution could be carried out, as if an anticipated death should not be allowed to save them from the punishment which they had deserved. it also happened in certain cases, where a person's guilt was only proved after his decease, that his body was disinterred, and carried to the stake to be burnt. the punishment by fire was always inflicted in cases of heresy, or blasphemy. the spanish inquisition made such a constant and cruel use of it, that the expression _auto-da-fé_ (act of faith), strangely perverted from its original meaning, was the only one employed to denote the punishment itself. in france, in the beginning of the fourteenth century, fifty-nine templars were burned at the same time for the crimes of heresy and witchcraft. and three years later, on the th march, , jacques molay, and a few other dignitaries of the order of the templars, also perished in the flames at the extremity of the island of notre dame, on the very spot where the equestrian statue of henry iv. now stands. every one is acquainted with the fact that judges were found iniquitous enough to condemn joan of arc to death by fire as a witch and a heretic. her execution, which took place in the market-place of rouen, is remarkable from a circumstance which is little known, and which had never taken place on any other occasion. when it was supposed that the fire which surrounded the young heroine on all sides had reached her and no doubt suffocated her, although sufficient time had not elapsed for it to consume her body, a part of the blazing wood was withdrawn, "in order to remove any doubts from the people," and when the crowd had satisfied themselves by seeing her in the middle of the pile, "chained to the post and quite dead, the executioner replaced the fire...." it should be stated in reference to this point, that joan having been accused of witchcraft, there was a general belief among the people that the flames would be harmless to her, and that she would be seen emerging from her pile unscathed. the sentence of punishment by fire did not absolutely imply death at the stake, for there was a punishment of this description which was specially reserved for base coiners, and which consisted in hurling the criminals into a cauldron of scalding water or oil. we must include in the category of punishment by fire certain penalties, which were, so to speak, but the preliminaries of a more severe punishment, such as the sulphur-fire, in which the hands of parricides, or of criminals accused of high treason, were burned. we must also add various punishments which, if they did not involve death, were none the less cruel, such as the red-hot brazier, _bassin ardent_, which was passed backwards and forwards before the eyes of the culprit, until they were destroyed by the scorching heat; and the process of branding various marks on the flesh, as an ineffaceable stigma, the use of which has been continued to the present day. in certain countries decapitation was performed with an axe; but in france, it was carried out usually by means of a two-handed sword or glave of justice, which was furnished to the executioner for that purpose (fig. ). we find it recorded that in , sixty sous parisis were paid to the executioner of paris "for having bought a large _espée à feuille_," used for beheading the condemned, and "for having the old sword done up, which was damaged, and had become notched whilst carrying out the sentence of justice upon messire louis de luxembourg." [illustration: fig. .--beheading.--fac-simile of a miniature on wood in the "cosmographie universelle" of munster: in folio, basle, .] originally, decapitation was indiscriminately inflicted on all criminals condemned to death; at a later period, however, it became the particular privilege of the nobility, who submitted to it without any feeling of degradation. the victim--unless the sentence prescribed that he should be blindfolded as an ignominious aggravation of the penalty--was allowed to choose whether he would have his eyes covered or not. he knelt down on the scaffold, placed his head on the block, and gave himself up to the executioner (fig. ). the skill of the executioner was generally such that the head was almost invariably severed from the body at the first blow. nevertheless, skill and practice at times failed, for cases are on record where as many as eleven blows were dealt, and at times it happened that the sword broke. it was no doubt the desire to avoid this mischance that led to the invention of the mechanical instrument, now known under the name of the _guillotine_, which is merely an improvement on a complicated machine which was much more ancient than is generally supposed. as early as the sixteenth century the modern guillotine already existed in scotland under the name of the _maiden_, and english historians relate that lord morton, regent of scotland during the minority of james vi., had it constructed after a model of a similar machine, which had long been in use at halifax, in yorkshire. they add, and popular tradition also has invented an analogous tale in france, that this lord morton, who was the inventor or the first to introduce this kind of punishment, was himself the first to experience it. the guillotine is, besides, very accurately described in the "chronicles of jean d'auton," in an account of an execution which took place at genoa at the beginning of the sixteenth century. two german engravings, executed about by pencz and aldegrever, also represent an instrument of death almost identical with the guillotine; and the same instrument is to be found on a bas-relief of that period, which is still existing in one of the halls of the tribunal of luneburg, in hanover. [illustration: decapitation of guillaume de pommiers. [illustration: fig. .--public executions.--fac-simile of a woodcut in the latin work of j. millaeus, "praxis criminis persequendi:" small folio, parisis, simon de colines, .] and his confessor, at bordeaux in , by order of the king of england's lieutenant. _froissart's chronicles._ no. , bibl. nat'le de paris.] possibly the invention of such a machine was prompted by the desire to curtail the physical sufferings of the victim, instead of prolonging them, as under the ancient system. it is, however, difficult to believe that the mediæval judges were actuated by any humane feelings, when we find that, in order to reconcile a respect for _propriety_ with a due compliance with the ends of justice, the punishment of burying alive was resorted to for women, who could not with decency be hung up to the gibbets. in , a woman named perette, accused of theft and of receiving stolen goods, was condemned by the provost of paris to be "buried alive before the gallows," and the sentence was literally carried out. _quartering_ may in truth be considered the most horrible penalty invented by judicial cruelty. this punishment really dates from the remotest ages, but it was scarcely ever inflicted in more modern times, except on regicides, who were looked upon as having committed the worst of crimes. in almost all cases, the victim had previously to undergo various accessory tortures: sometimes his right hand was cut off, and the mutilated stump was burnt in a cauldron of sulphur; sometimes his arms, thighs, or breasts were lacerated with red-hot pincers, and hot oil, pitch, or molten lead was poured into the wounds. [illustration: fig. .--demons applying the torture of the wheel.--fac-simile of a woodcut in the "grand kalendrier ou compost des bergers:" small folio, troyes, nicholas le rouge, .] after these horrible preliminaries, a rope was attached to each of the limbs of the criminal, one being bound round each leg from the foot to the knee, and round each arm from the wrist to the elbow. these ropes were then fastened to four bars, to each of which a strong horse was harnessed, as if for towing a barge. these horses were first made to give short jerks; and when the agony had elicited heart-rending cries from the unfortunate man, who felt his limbs being dislocated without being broken, the four horses were all suddenly urged on with the whip in different directions, and thus all the limbs were strained at one moment. if the tendons and ligaments still resisted the combined efforts of the four horses, the executioner assisted, and made several cuts with a hatchet on each joint. when at last--for this horrible torture often lasted several hours--each horse had drawn out a limb, they were collected and placed near the hideous trunk, which often still showed signs of life, and the whole were burned together. sometimes the sentence was, that the body should be hung to the gibbet, and that the limbs should be displayed on the gates of the town, or sent to four principal towns in the extremities of the kingdom. when this was done, "an inscription was placed on each of the limbs, which stated the reason of its being thus exposed." the _wheel_ is the name applied to a torture of very ancient origin, but which was applied during the middle ages to quite a different torture from that used in olden times. the modern instrument might indeed have been called the cross, for it only served for the public exhibition of the body of the criminal whose limbs had been previously broken alive. this torture, which does not date earlier than the days of francis i., is thus described:--the victim was first tied on his back to two joists forming a st. andrew's cross, each of his limbs being stretched out on its arms. two places were hollowed out under each limb, about a foot apart, in order that the joints alone might touch the wood. the executioner then dealt a heavy blow over each hollow with a square iron bar, about two inches broad and rounded at the handle, thus breaking each limb in two places. to the eight blows required for this, the executioner generally added two or three on the chest, which were called _coups de grâce_, and which ended this horrible execution. it was only after death that the broken body was placed on a wheel, which was turned round on a pivot. sometimes, however, the sentence ordered that the condemned should be strangled before being broken, which was done in such cases by the instantaneous twist of a rope round the neck. strangling, thus carried out, was called _garotting_. this method is still in use in spain, and is specially reserved for the nobility. the victim is seated on a scaffold, his head leaning against a beam and his neck grasped by an iron collar, which the executioner suddenly tightens from behind by means of a screw. for several centuries, and down to the revolution, hanging was the most common mode of execution in france; consequently, in every town, and almost in every village, there was a permanent gibbet, which, owing to the custom of leaving the bodies to hang till they crumbled into dust, was very rarely without having some corpses or skeletons attached to it. these gibbets, which were called _fourches patibulaires_ or _justices_, because they represented the authority of the law, were generally composed of pillars of stone, joined at their summit by wooden traverses, to which the bodies of criminals were tied by ropes or chains. the gallows, the pillars of which varied in number according to the will of the authorities, were always placed by the side of frequented roads, and on an eminence. [illustration: fig. .--the gibbet of montfaucon.--from an engraving of the topography of paris, in the collection of engravings of the national library.] according to prescribed rule, the gallows of paris, which played such an important part in the political as well as the criminal history of that city, were erected on a height north of the town, near the high road leading into germany. montfaucon, originally the name of the hill, soon became that of the gallows itself. this celebrated place of execution consisted of a heavy mass of masonry, composed of ten or twelve layers of rough stones, and formed an enclosure of forty feet by twenty-five or thirty. at the upper part there was a platform, which was reached by a stone staircase, the entrance to which was closed by a massive door (fig. ). on three sides of this platform rested sixteen square pillars, about thirty feet high, made of blocks of stone a foot thick. these pillars were joined to one another by double bars of wood, which were fastened into them, and bore iron chains three feet and a half long, to which the criminals were suspended. underneath, half-way between these and the platform, other bars were placed for the same purpose. long and solid ladders riveted to the pillars enabled the executioner and his assistants to lead up criminals, or to carry up corpses destined to be hung there. lastly, the centre of the structure was occupied by a deep pit, the hideous receptacle of the decaying remains of the criminals. one can easily imagine the strange and melancholy aspect of this monumental gibbet if one thinks of the number of corpses continually attached to it, and which were feasted upon by thousands of crows. on one occasion only it was necessary to replace _fifty-two_ chains, which were useless; and the accounts of the city of paris prove that the expense of executions was more heavy than that of the maintenance of the gibbet, a fact easy to be understood if one recalls to mind the frequency of capital sentences during the middle ages. montfaucon was used not only for executions, but also for exposing corpses which were brought there from various places of execution in every part of the country. the mutilated remains of criminals who had been boiled, quartered, or beheaded, were also hung there, enclosed in sacks of leather or wickerwork. they often remained hanging for a considerable time, as in the case of pierre des essarts, who had been beheaded in , and whose remains were handed over to his family for christian burial after having hung on montfaucon for three years. the criminal condemned to be hanged was generally taken to the place of execution sitting or standing in a waggon, with his back to the horses, his confessor by his side, and the executioner behind him. he bore three ropes round his neck; two the size of the little finger, and called _tortouses_, each of which had a slip-knot; the third, called the _jet_, was only used to pull the victim off the ladder, and so to launch him into eternity (fig. ). when the cart arrived at the foot of the gallows, the executioner first ascended the ladder backwards, drawing the culprit after him by means of the ropes, and forcing him to keep pace with him; on arriving at the top, he quickly fastened the two _tortouses_ to the arm of the gibbet, and by a jerk of his knee he turned the culprit off the ladder, still holding the _jet_ in his own hand. he then placed his feet on the tied hands of the condemned, and suspending himself by his hands to the gibbet, he finished off his victim by repeated jerks, thus ensuring complete strangulation. when the words "shall be hung until death doth ensue" are to be found in a sentence, it must not be supposed that they were used merely as a form, for in certain cases the judge ordered that the sentence should be only carried out as far as would prove to the culprit the awful sensation of hanging. in such cases, the victim was simply suspended by ropes passing under the arm-pits, a kind of exhibition which was not free from danger when it was too prolonged, for the weight of the body so tightened the rope round the chest that the circulation might be stopped. many culprits, after hanging thus an hour, when brought down, were dead, or only survived this painful process a short time. [illustration: fig. .--hanging to music. (a minstrel condemned to the gallows obtained permission that one of his companions should accompany him to his execution, and play his favourite instrument on the ladder of the gallows.)--fac-simile of a woodcut in michault's "doctrinal du temps présent:" small folio, goth., bruges, about .] we have seen elsewhere (chapter on _privileges and rights, feudal and municipal_) that, when the criminal passed before the convent of the _filles-dieu_, the nuns of that establishment were bound to bring him out a glass of wine and three pieces of bread, and this was called _le dernier morceau des patients._ it was hardly ever refused, and an immense crowd assisted at this sad meal. after this the procession went forward, and on arriving near the gallows, another halt was made at the foot of a stone cross, in order that the culprit might receive the religions exhortations of his confessor. the moment the execution was over, the confessor and the officers of justice returned to the châtelet, where a repast provided by the town awaited them. [illustration: fig. .--view of the pillory in the market-place of paris in the sixteenth century, after a drawing by an unknown artist of .] sometimes the criminals, in consequence of a peculiar wording of the sentence, were taken to montfaucon, whether dead or alive, on a ladder fastened behind a cart. this was an aggravation of the penalty, which was called _traîner sur la claie_. the penalty of the lash was inflicted in two ways: first, under the _custode_, that is to say within the prison, and by the hand of the gaoler himself, in which case it was simply a correction; and secondly, in public, when its administration became ignominious as well as painful. in the latter case the criminal was paraded about the town, stripped to the waist, and at each crossway he received a certain number of blows on the shoulders, given by the public executioner with a cane or a knotted rope. when it was only required to stamp a culprit with infamy he was put into the _pillory_, which was generally a kind of scaffold furnished with chains and iron collars, and bearing on its front the arms of the feudal lord. in paris, this name was given to a round isolated tower built in the centre of the market. the tower was sixty feet high, and had large openings in its thick walls, and a horizontal wheel was provided, which was capable of turning on a pivot. this wheel was pierced with several holes, made so as to hold the hands and head of the culprit, who, on passing and repassing before the eyes of the crowd, came in full view, and was subjected to their hootings (fig. ). the pillories were always situated in the most frequented places, such as markets, crossways, &c. notwithstanding the long and dreadful enumeration we have just made of mediæval punishments, we are far from having exhausted the subject; for we have not spoken of several more or less atrocious punishments, which were in use at various times and in various countries; such as the _pain of the cross_, specially employed against the jews; the _arquebusade_, which was well adapted for carrying out prompt justice on soldiers; the _chatouillement_, which resulted in death after the most intense tortures; the _pal_ (fig. ), _flaying alive_, and, lastly, _drowning_, a kind of death frequently employed in france. hence the common expression, _gens de sac et de corde_, which was derived from the sack into which persons were tied who were condemned to die by immersion.... but we will now turn away from these horrible scenes, and consider the several methods of penal sequestration and prison arrangements. it is unnecessary to state that in barbarous times the cruel and pitiless feeling which induced legislators to increase the horrors of tortures, also contributed to the aggravation of the fate of prisoners. each administrator of the law had his private gaol, which was entirely under his will and control (fig. ). law or custom did not prescribe any fixed rules for the internal government of prisons. there can be little doubt, however, that these prisons were as small as they were unhealthy, if we may judge from that in the rue de la tannerie, which was the property of the provost, the merchants, and the aldermen of paris in . although this dungeon was only eleven feet long by seven feet wide, from ten to twenty prisoners were often immured in it at the same time. [illustration: fig. .--empalement.--fac-simile of a woodcut in the "cosmographie universelle" of munster: in folio, basle, .] paris alone contained twenty-five or thirty special prisons, without counting the _vade in pace_ of the various religious communities. the most important were the grand châtelet, the petit châtelet, the bastille, the conciergerie, and the for-l'evêque, the ancient seat of the ecclesiastical jurisdiction of the bishop of paris. nearly all these places of confinement contained subterranean cells, which were almost entirely deprived of air and light. as examples of these may be mentioned the _chartres basses_ of the petit châtelet, where, under the reign of charles vi., it was proved that no man could pass an entire day without being suffocated; and the fearful cells excavated thirty feet below the surface of the earth, in the gaol of the abbey of saint germain des prés, the roof of which was so low that a man of middle height could not stand up in them, and where the straw of the prisoners' beds floated upon the stagnant water which had oozed through the walls. [illustration: fig. .--the provost's prison.--fac-simile of a woodcut in j. damhoudère's "praxis rerum civilium."] the grand châtelet was one of the most ancient prisons of paris, and probably the one which held the greatest number of prisoners. by a curious and arbitrary custom, prisoners were compelled to pay a gaol fee on entering and going out of this prison, which varied according to their rank, and which was established by a law of the year . we learn from this enactment the names by which the various places of confinement composing this spacious municipal prison were known. a prisoner who was confined in the _beauvoir, la mate_ or _la salle_, had the right of "having a bed brought from his own house," and only had to pay the _droit de place_ to the gaoler; any one who was placed in the _boucherie_, in the _beaumont_, or in the _griseche_, "which are closed prisons," had to pay four deniers "_pour place_;" any one who was confined in the _beauvais_, "lies on mats or on layers of rushes or straw" (_gist sur nates ou sur couche de feurre ou de paille_); if he preferred, he might be placed _au puis_, in the _gourdaine_, in the _bercueil_, or in the _oubliette_, where he did not pay more than in the _fosse_. for this, no doubt, the smallest charge was made. sometimes, however, the prisoner was left between two doors ("_entre deux huis_"), and he then paid much less than he would in the _barbarie_ or in the _gloriette_. the exact meaning of these curious names is no longer intelligible to us, notwithstanding the terror which they formerly created, but their very strangeness gives us reason to suppose that the prison system was at that time subjected to the most odious refinement of the basest cruelty. from various reliable sources we learn that there was a place in the grand châtelet, called the _chausse d'hypocras_, in which the prisoners had their feet continually in water, and where they could neither stand up nor lie down; and a cell, called _fin d'aise_, which was a horrible receptacle of filth, vermin, and reptiles; as to the _fosse_, no staircase being attached to it, the prisoners were lowered down into it by means of a rope and pulley. by the law of , the gaoler was not permitted to put more than _two or three_ persons in the same bed. he was bound to give "bread and water" to the poor prisoners who had no means of subsistence; and, lastly, he was enjoined "to keep the large stone basin, which was on the pavement, full of water, so that prisoners might get it whenever they wished." in order to defray his expenses, he levied on the prisoners various charges for attendance and for bedding, and he was authorised to detain in prison any person who failed to pay him. the power of compelling payment of these charges continued even after a judge's order for the release of a prisoner had been issued. [illustration: fig. .--the bastille.--from an ancient engraving of the topography of paris, in the collection of engravings of the national library.] the subterranean cells of the bastille (fig. ) did not differ much from those of the châtelet. there were several, the bottoms of which were formed like a sugar-loaf upside down, thus neither allowing the prisoner to stand up, nor even to adopt a tolerable position sitting or lying down. it was in these that king louis xi., who seemed to have a partiality for filthy dungeons, placed the two young sons of the duke de nemours (beheaded in ), ordering, besides, that they should be taken out twice a week and beaten with birch rods, and, as a supreme measure of atrocity, he had one of their teeth extracted every three months. it was louis xi., too, who, in , ordered the famous _iron cage_, to be erected in one of the towers of the bastille, in which guillaume, bishop of verdun, was incarcerated for fourteen years. the château de loches also possessed one of these cages, which received the name of _cage de balue_, because the cardinal jean de la balue was imprisoned in it. philippe de commines, in his "mémoires," declares that he himself had a taste of it for eight months. before the invention of cages, louis xi. ordered very heavy chains to be made, which were fastened to the feet of the prisoners, and attached to large iron balls, called, according to commines, the king's little daughters (_les fillettes du roy_). [illustration: fig. .--movable iron cage.--fac-simile of a woodcut in the "cosmographie universelle" of munster, in folio, basle, .] the prison known by the name of the leads of venice is of so notorious a character that its mere mention is sufficient, without its being necessary for us to describe it. to the subject of voluntary seclusions, to which certain pious persons submitted themselves as acts of extreme religious devotion, it will only be necessary to allude here, and to remark that there are examples of this confinement having been ordered by legal authority. in , renée de vermandois, the widow of a squire, had been condemned to be burnt for adultery and for murdering her husband; but, on letters of remission from the king, parliament commuted the sentence pronounced by the provost of paris, and ordered that renée de vermandois should be "shut up within the walls of the cemetery of the saints-innocents, in a small house, built at her expense, that she might therein do penance and end her days." in conformity with this sentence, the culprit having been conducted with much pomp to the cell which had been prepared for her, the door was locked by means of two keys, one of which remained in the hands of the churchwarden (_marguillier_) of the church of the innocents, and the other was deposited at the office of the parliament. the prisoner received her food from public charity, and it is said that she became an object of veneration and respect by the whole town. [illustration: fig. .--cat-o'-nine-tails.--fac-simile of a woodcut in the "cosmographie universelle" of munster.] jews. dispersion of the jews.--jewish quarters in the mediæval towns.--the _ghetto_ of rome.--ancient prague.--the _giudecca_ of venice.--condition of the jews.--animosity of the people against them--severity and vexatious treatment of the sovereigns.--the jews of lincoln.--the jews of blois.--mission of the _pastoureaux_.--extermination of the jews.--the price at which the jews purchased indulgences.--marks set upon them.--wealth, knowledge, industry, and financial aptitude of the jews.--regulations respecting usury as practised by the jews.--attachment of the jews to their religion. a painful and gloomy history commences for the jewish race from the day when the romans seized upon jerusalem and expelled its unfortunate inhabitants, a race so essentially homogeneous, strong, patient, and religious, and dating its origin from the remotest period of the patriarchal ages. the jews, proud of the title of "the people of god," were scattered, proscribed, and received universal reprobation (fig. ), notwithstanding that their annals, collected under divine inspiration by moses and the sacred writers, had furnished a glorious prologue to the annals of all modern nations, and had given to the world the holy and divine history of christ, who, by establishing the gospel, was to become the regenerator of the whole human family. their temple is destroyed, and the crowd which had once pressed beneath its portico as the flock of the living god has become a miserable tribe, restless and unquiet in the present, but full of hope as regards the future. the jewish _nation_ exists nowhere, nevertheless, the jewish _people_ are to be found everywhere. they are wanderers upon the face of the earth, continually pursued, threatened, and persecuted. it would seem as if the existence of the offspring of israel is perpetuated simply to present to christian eyes a clear and awful warning of the divine vengeance, a special, and at the same time an overwhelming example of the vicissitudes which god alone can determine in the life of a people. [illustration: fig. .--expulsion of the jews in the reign of the emperor hadrian (a.d. ): "how heraclius turned the jews out of jerusalem."--fac-simile of a miniature in the "histoire des empereurs," manuscript of the fifteenth century, in the library of the arsenal, paris.] m. depping, an historian of this race so long accursed, after having been for centuries blessed and favoured by god, says, "a jewish community in an european town during the middle ages resembled a colony on an island or on a distant coast. isolated from the rest of the population, it generally occupied a district or street which was separated from the town or borough. the jews, like a troop of lepers, were thrust away and huddled together into the most uncomfortable and most unhealthy quarter of the city, as miserable as it vas disgusting. there, in ill-constructed houses, this poor and numerous population was amassed; in some cases high walls enclosed the small and dark narrow streets of the quarter occupied by this branded race, which prevented its extension, though, at the same time, it often protected the inhabitants from the fury of the populace." in order to form a just appreciation of what the jewish quarters were like in the mediæval towns, one must visit the _ghetto_ of rome or ancient prague. the latter place especially has, in all respects, preserved its antique appearance. we must picture to ourselves a large enclosure of wretched houses, irregularly built, divided by small streets with no attempt at uniformity. the principal thoroughfare is lined with stalls, in which are sold not only old clothes, furniture, and utensils, but also new and glittering articles. the inhabitants of this enclosure can, without crossing its limits, procure everything necessary to material life. this quarter contains the old synagogue, a square building begrimed with the dirt of ages, and so covered with dirt and moss that the stone of which it is built is scarcely visible. the building, which is as mournful as a prison, has only narrow loopholes by way of windows, and a door so low that one must stoop to enter it. a dark passage leads to the interior, into which air and light can scarcely penetrate. a few lamps contend with the darkness, and lighted fires serve to modify a little the icy temperature of this cellar. here and there pillars seem to support a roof which is too high and too darkened for the eye of the visitor to distinguish. on the sides are dark and damp recesses, where women assist at the celebration of worship, which is always carried on, according to ancient custom, with much wailing and strange gestures of the body. the book of the law which is in use is no less venerable than the edifice in which it is contained. it appears that this synagogue has never undergone the slightest repairs or changes for many centuries. the successive generations who have prayed in this ancient temple rest under thousands of sepulchral stones, in a cemetery which is of the same date as the synagogue, and is about a league in circumference. paris has never possessed, properly speaking, a regular _jewish quarter_; it is true that the israelites settled down in the neighbourhood of the markets, and in certain narrow streets, which at some period or other took the name of _juiverie_ or _vieille juiverie (old jewry_); but they were never distinct from the rest of the population; they only had a separate cemetery, at the bottom or rather on the slope of the hill of sainte-geneviève. on the other hand, most of the towns of france and of europe had their _jewry_. in certain countries, the colonies of jews enjoyed a share of immunities and protections, thus rendering their life a little less precarious, and their occupations of a rather more settled character. in spain and in portugal, the jews, in consequence of their having been on several occasions useful to the kings of those two countries, were allowed to carry on their trade, and to engage in money speculations, outside their own quarters; a few were elevated to positions of responsibility, and some were even tolerated at court. in the southern towns of france, which they enriched by commerce and taxes, and where they formed considerable communities, the jews enjoyed the protection of the nobles. we find them in languedoc and provence buying and selling property like christians, a privilege which was not permitted to them elsewhere: this is proved by charters of contracts made during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, which bear the signature of certain jews in hebrew characters. on papal lands, at avignon, at carpentras, and at cavaillon, they had _bailes_, or consuls of their nation. the jews of rousillon during the spanish rule (fifteenth century) were governed by two syndics and a scribe, elected by the community. the latter levied the taxes due to the king of aragon. in burgundy they cultivated the vines, which was rather singular, for the jews generally preferred towns where they could form groups more compact, and more capable of mutual assistance. the name of _sabath_, given to a vineyard in the neighbourhood of mâcon, still points out the position of their synagogue. the hamlet of _mouys_, a dependency of the communes of prissey, owes its name to a rich israelite, moses, who had received that land as an indemnity for money lent to the count gerfroy de mâcon, which the latter had been unable to repay. in vienna, where the israelites had a special quarter, still called _the jews'_ [illustration: fig. .--jews taking the blood from christian children, for their mystic rites.--from a pen-and-ink drawing, illuminated, in the book of the cabala of abraham the jew (library of the arsenal, paris).] _square_, a special judge named by the duke was set over them. exempted from the city rates, they paid a special poil tax, and they contributed, but on the same footing as christian vassals, to extraordinary rates, war taxes, and travelling expenses of the nobles, &c. this community even became so rich that it eventually held mortgages on the greater part of the houses of the town. in venice also, the jews had their quarter--the _giudecca_--which is still one of the darkest in the town; but they did not much care about such trifling inconveniences, as the republic allowed them to bank, that is, to lend money at interest; and although they were driven out on several occasions, they always found means to return and recommence their operations. when they were authorised to establish themselves in the towns of the adriatic, their presence did not fail to annoy the christian merchants, whose rivals they were; but neither in venice nor in the italian republics had they to fear court intrigues, nor the hatred of corporations of trades, which were so powerful in france and in germany. it was in the north of europe that the animosity against the jews was greatest. the christian population continually threatened the jewish quarters, which public opinion pointed to as haunts and sinks of iniquity. the jews were believed to be much more amenable to the doctrines of the talmud than to the laws of moses. however secret they may have kept their learning, a portion of its tenets transpired, which was supposed to inculcate the right to pillage and murder christians; and it is to the vague knowledge of these odious prescriptions of the talmud that we must attribute the readiness with which the most atrocious accusations against the jews were always welcomed. besides this, the public mind in those days of bigotry was naturally filled with a deep antipathy against the jewish deicides. when monks and priests came annually in holy week to relate from the pulpit to their hearers the revolting details of the passion, resentment was kindled in the hearts of the christians against the descendants of the judges and executioners of the saviour. and when, on going out of the churches, excited by the sermons they had just heard, the faithful saw in pictures, in the cemeteries, and elsewhere, representations of the mystery of the death of our saviour, in which the jews played so odious a part, there was scarcely a spectator who did not feel an increased hatred against the condemned race. hence it was that in many towns, even when the authorities did not compel them to do so, the israelites found it prudent to shut themselves up in their own quarter, and even in their own houses, during the whole of passion week; for, in consequence of the public feeling roused during those days of mourning and penance, a false rumour was quite sufficient to give the people a pretext for offering violence to the jews. in fact, from the earliest days of christianity, a certain number of accusations were always being made, sometimes in one country, sometimes in another, against the israelites, which always ended in bringing down the same misfortunes on their heads. the most common, and most easily credited report, was that which attributed to them the murder of some christian child, said to be sacrificed in passion week in token of their hatred of christ; and in the event of this terrible accusation being once uttered, and maintained by popular opinion, it never failed to spread with remarkable swiftness. in such cases, popular fury, not being on all occasions satisfied with the tardiness of judicial forms, vented itself upon the first jews who had the misfortune to fall into the hands of their enemies. as soon as the disturbance was heard the jewish quarter was closed; fathers and mothers barricaded themselves in with their children, concealed whatever riches they possessed, and listened tremblingly to the clamour of the multitude which was about to besiege them. [illustration: fig. .--secret meeting of the jews at the rabbi's house.--fac-simile of a miniature of the "pèlerinage de la vie humaine," manuscript of the fourteenth century, in the national library of paris.] in , in lincoln, the report was suddenly spread that a child of the name of hughes had been enticed into the jewish quarter, and there scourged, crucified, and pierced with lances, in the presence of all the israelites of the district, who were convoked and assembled to take part in this horrible barbarity. the king and queen of england, on their return from a journey to scotland, arrived in lincoln at the very time when the inhabitants were so much agitated by this mysterious announcement. the people called for vengeance. an order was issued to the bailiffs and officers of the king to deliver the murderer into the hands of justice, and the quarter in which the jews had shut themselves up, so as to avoid the public animosity, was immediately invaded by armed men. the rabbi, in whose house the child was supposed to have been tortured, was seized, and at once condemned to be tied to the tail of a horse, and dragged through the streets of the town. after this, his mangled body, which was only half dead, was hung (fig. ). many of the jews ran away and hid themselves in all parts of the kingdom, and those who had the misfortune to be caught were thrown into chains and led to london. orders were given in the provinces to imprison all the israelites who were accused or even suspected of having taken any part, whether actively or indirectly, in the murder of the lincoln child; and suspicion made rapid strides in those days. in a short space of time, eighteen israelites in london shared the fate of the rabbi of their community in lincoln. some dominican monks, who were charitable and courageous enough to interfere in favour of the wretched prisoners, brought down odium on their own heads, and were accused of having allowed themselves to be corrupted by the money of the jews. seventy-one prisoners were retained in the dungeons of london, and seemed inevitably fated to die, when the king's brother, richard, came to their aid, by asserting his right over all the jews of the kingdom--a right which the king had pledged to him for a loan of , silver marks. the unfortunate prisoners were therefore saved, thanks to richard's desire to protect his securities. history does not tell what their liberty cost them; but we must hope that a sense of justice alone guided the english prince, and that the jews found other means besides money by which to show their gratitude. there is scarcely a country in europe which cannot recount similar tales. in , we find the murder of a child at orleans, or blois, causing capital punishment to be inflicted on several jews. imputations of this horrible character were continually renewed during the middle ages, and were of very ancient origin; for we hear of them in the times of honorius and theodosius the younger; we find them reproduced with equal vehemence in at trent, where a furious mob was excited against the jews, who were accused of having destroyed a child twenty-nine months old named simon. the tale of the martyrdom of this child was circulated widely, and woodcut representations of it were freely distributed, which necessarily increased, especially in germany, the horror which was aroused in the minds of christians against the accursed nation (fig. ). [illustration: fig. .--the infant richard crucified by the jews, at pontoise.--fac-simile of a woodcut, with figures by wohlgemuth, in the "liber chronicarum mundi:" large folio, nuremberg, .] [illustration: fig. .--martyrdom of simon at trent.--fac-simile, reduced, of a woodcut of wohlgemuth, in the "liber chronicarum mundi:" large folio, nuremberg, .] the jews gave cause for other accusations calculated to keep up this hatred; such as the desecration of the consecrated host, the mutilation of the crucifix. tradition informs us of a miracle which took place in paris in , in the rue des jardins, when a jew dared to mutilate and boil a consecrated host. this miracle was commemorated by the erection of a chapel on the spot, which was afterwards replaced by the church and convent of the billettes. in , the people of brussels were startled in consequence of the statements of a jewess, who accused her co-religionists of having made her carry a pyx full of stolen hosts to the jews of cologne, for the purpose of submitting them to the most horrible profanations. the woman added, that the jews having pierced these hosts with sticks and knives, such a quantity of blood poured from them that the culprits were struck with terror, and concealed themselves in their quarter. the jews were all imprisoned, tortured, and burnt alive (fig. ). in order to perpetuate the memory of the miracle of the bleeding hosts, an annual procession took place, which was the origin of the great kermesse, or annual fair. in the event of any unforeseen misfortune, or any great catastrophe occurring amongst christians, the odium was frequently cast on the jews. if the crusaders met with reverses in asia, fanatics formed themselves into bands, who, under the name of _pastoureaux_, spread over the country, killing and robbing not only the jews, but many christians also. in the event of any general sickness, and especially during the prevalence of epidemics, the jews were accused of having poisoned the water of fountains and pits, and the people massacred them in consequence. thousands perished in this way when the black plague made ravages in europe in the fourteenth century. the sovereigns, who were tardy in suppressing these sanguinary proceedings, never thought of indemnifying the jewish families which so unjustly suffered. [illustration: fig. .--the jews of cologne burnt alive.--from a woodcut in the "liber chronicarum mundi:" large folio, nuremberg, .] in fact, it was then most religiously believed that, by despising and holding the jewish nation under the yoke, banished as it was from judæa for the murder of jesus christ, the will of the almighty was being carried out, so much so that the greater number of kings and princes looked upon themselves as absolute masters over the jews who lived under their protection. all feudal lords spoke with scorn of _their jews_; they allowed them to establish themselves on their lands, but on the condition that as they became the subjects and property of their lord, the latter should draw his best income from them. we have shown by an instance borrowed from the history of england that the jews were often mortgaged by the kings like land. this was not all, for the jews who inhabited great britain during the reign of henry iii., in the middle of the thirteenth century, were not only obliged to acknowledge, by voluntarily contributing large sums of money, the service the king's brother had rendered them in clearing them from the imputation of having had any participation in the murder of the child richard, but the loan on mortgage, for which they were the material and passive security, became the cause of odious extortions from them. the king had pledged them to the earl of cornwall for , marks, but they themselves had to repay the royal loan by means of enormous taxes. when they had succeeded in cancelling the king's debt to his brother, that necessitous monarch again mortgaged them, but on this occasion to his son edward. soon after, the son having rebelled against his father, the latter took back his jews, and having assembled six elders from each of their communities, he told them that he required , silver marks, and ordered them to pay him that sum at two stated periods. the payments were rigorously exacted; those who were behind-hand were imprisoned, and the debtor who was in arrear for the second payment was sued for the whole sum. on the king's death his successor continued the same system of tyranny against the jews. in they were charged with having issued counterfeit coin, and on this vague or imaginary accusation two hundred and eighty men and women were put to death in london alone. in the counties there were also numerous executions, and many innocent persons were thrown into dungeons; and, at last, in king edward, who wished to enrich himself by taking possession of their properties, banished the jews from his kingdom. a short time before this, the english people had offered to pay an annual fine to the king on condition of his expelling the jews from the country; but the jews outbid them, and thus obtained the repeal of the edict of banishment. however, on this last occasion there was no mercy shown, and the jews, sixteen thousand in number, were expelled from england, and the king seized upon their goods. at the same period philippe le bel of france gave the example of this system of persecuting the jews, but, instead of confiscating all their goods, he was satisfied with taking one-fifth; his subjects, therefore, almost accused him of generosity. [illustration: fig. .--jewish conspiracy in france.--from a miniature in the "pèlerinage de la vie humaine" (imperial library, paris).] the jews often took the precaution of purchasing certain rights and franchises from their sovereign or from the feudal lord under whose sway they lived; but generally these were one-sided bargains, for not being protected by common rights, and only forming a very small part of the population, they could nowhere depend upon promises or privileges which had been made to them, even though they had purchased them with their own money. to the uncertainty and annoyance of a life which was continually being threatened, was added a number of vexatious and personal insults, even in ordinary times, and when they enjoyed a kind of normal tolerance. they were almost everywhere obliged to wear a visible mark on their dress, such as a patch of gaudy colour attached to the shoulder or chest, in order to prevent their being mistaken for christians. by this or some other means they were continually subject to insults from the people, and only succeeded in ridding themselves of it by paying the most enormous fines. nothing was spared to humiliate and insult them. at toulouse they were forced to send a representative to the cathedral on every good friday, that he might there publicly receive a box on the ears. at béziers, during passion week, the mob assumed the right of attacking the jews' houses with stones. the jews bought off this right in by paying a certain sum to the vicomte de béziers, and by promising an annual poll-tax to him and to his successors. a jew, passing on the road of etampes, beneath the tower of montlhéry, had to pay an obole; if he had in his possession a hebrew book, he paid four deniers; and, if he carried his lamp with him, two oboles. at châteauneuf-sur-loire a jew on passing had to pay twelve deniers and a jewess six. it has been said that there were various ancient rates levied upon jews, in which they were treated like cattle, but this requires authentication. during the carnival in rome they were forced to run in the lists, amidst the jeers of the populace. this public outrage was stopped at a subsequent period by a tax of écus, which a deputation from the ghetto presented on their knees to the magistrates of the city, at the same time thanking them for their protection. when pope martin iv. arrived at the council of constance, in , the jewish community, which was as numerous as it was powerful in that old city, came in great state to present him with the book of the law (fig. ). the holy father received the jews kindly, and prayed god to open their eyes and bring them back into the bosom of his church. we know, too, how charitable the popes were to the jews. in the face of the distressing position they occupied, it may be asked what powerful motive induced the jews to live amongst nations who almost invariably treated them as enemies, and to remain at the mercy of sovereigns whose sole object was to oppress, plunder, and subject them to all kinds of vexations? to understand this it is sufficient to remember that, in their peculiar aptness for earning and hoarding money, they found, or at least hoped to find, a means of compensation whereby they might be led to forget the servitude to which they were subjected. there existed amongst them, and especially in the southern countries, some very learned men, who devoted themselves principally to medicine; and in order to avoid having to struggle against insuperable prejudice, they were careful to disguise their nationality and religion in the exercise of that art. [illustration: fig. .--the jewish procession going to meet the pope at the council of constance, in .--after a miniature in the manuscript chronicle of ulrie de reichental, in the library of the mansion-house of basle, in switzerland.] they pretended, in order not to arouse the suspicion of their patients, to be practitioners from lombardy or spain, or even from arabia; whether they were really clever, or only made a pretence of being so, in an art which was then very much a compound of quackery and imposture, it is difficult to say, but they acquired wealth as well as renown in its practice. but there was another science, to the study of which they applied themselves with the utmost ardour and perseverance, and for which they possessed in a marvellous degree the necessary qualities to insure success, and that science was the science of finance. in matters having reference to the recovering of arrears of taxes, to contracts for the sale of goods and produce of industry, to turning a royalty to account, to making hazardous commercial enterprises lucrative, or to the accumulating of large sums of money for the use of sovereigns or poor nobles, the jews were always at hand, and might invariably be reckoned upon. they created capital, for they always had funds to dispose of, even in the midst of the most terrible public calamities, and, when all other means were exhausted, when all expedients for filling empty purses had been resorted to without success, the jews were called in. often, in consequence of the envy which they excited from being known to possess hoards of gold, they were exposed to many dangers, which they nevertheless faced, buoying themselves up with the insatiable love of gain. few christians in the middle ages were given to speculation, and they were especially ignorant of financial matters, as demanding interest on loans was almost always looked upon as usury, and, consequently, such dealings were stigmatized as disgraceful. the jews were far from sharing these high-minded scruples, and they took advantage of the ignorance of christians by devoting themselves as much as possible to enterprises and speculations, which were at all times the distinguishing occupation of their race. for this reason we find the jews, who were engaged in the export trade from the twelfth to the fifteenth centuries, doing a most excellent business, even in the commercial towns of the mediterranean. we can, to a certain extent, in speaking of the intercourse of the jews with the christians of the middle ages, apply what lady montague remarked as late as , when comparing the jews of turkey with the mussulmans: "the former," she says, "have monopolized all the commerce of the empire, thanks to the close ties which exist amongst them, and to the laziness and want of industry of the turks. no bargain is made without their connivance. they are the physicians and stewards of all the nobility. it is easy to conceive the unity which this gives to a nation which never despises the smallest profits. they have found means of rendering themselves so useful, that they are certain of protection at court, whoever the ruling minister may be. many of them are enormously rich, but they are careful to make but little outward display, although living in the greatest possible luxury." [illustration: fig. .--costume of an italian jew of the fourteenth century.--from a painting by sano di pietro, preserved in the academy of the fine arts, at sienna.] [illustration: the jews' passover. fac-simile of a miniature from a missel of fifteenth century ornamented with paintings of the school of van eyck. bibl. de l'arsenal, th. lat., no .] the condition of the jews in the east was never so precarious nor so difficult as it was in the west. from the councils of paris, in , down to the end of the fifteenth century, the nobles and the civil and ecclesiastical authorities excluded the jews from administrative positions; but it continually happened that a positive want of money, against which the jews were ever ready to provide, caused a repeal or modification of these arbitrary measures. moreover, christians did not feel any scruple in parting with their most valued treasures, and giving them as pledges to the jews for a loan of money when they were in need of it. this plan of lending on pledge, or usury, belonged specially to the jews in europe during the middle ages, and was both the cause of their prosperity and of their misfortune. of their prosperity, because they cleverly contrived to become possessors of all the coin; and of their misfortune, because their usurious demands became so detrimental to the public welfare, and were often exacted with such unscrupulous severity, that people not unfrequently became exasperated, and acts of violence were committed, which as often fell upon the innocent as upon the guilty. the greater number of the acts of banishment were those for which no other motive was assigned, or, at all events, no other pretext was made, than the usury practised by these strangers in the provinces and in the towns in which they were permitted to reside. when the christians heard that these rapacious guests had harshly pressed and entirely stripped certain poor debtors, when they learned that the debtors, ruined by usury, were still kept prisoners in the house of their pitiless creditors, general indignation often manifested itself by personal attacks. this feeling was frequently shared by the authorities themselves, who, instead of dispensing equal justice to the strangers and to the citizens, according to the spirit of the law, often decided with partiality, and even with resentment, and in some cases abandoned the jews to the fury of the people. the people's feelings of hatred against the sordid avarice of the jews was continually kept up by ballads which were sung, and legends which were related, in the public streets of the cities and in the cottages of the villages--ballads and legends in which usurers were depicted in hideous colours (fig. ). the most celebrated of these popular compositions was evidently that which must have furnished the idea to shakespeare of the _merchant of venice_, for in this old english drama mention is made of a bargain struck between a jew and a christian, who borrows money of him, on condition that, if he cannot refund it on a certain day, the lender shall have the right of cutting a pound of flesh from his body. all the evil which the people said and thought of the jews during the middle ages seems concentrated in the shylock of the english poet. the rate of interest for loans was, nevertheless, everywhere settled by law, and at all times. this rate varied according to the scarcity of gold, and was always high enough to give a very ample profit to the lenders, although they too often required a very much higher rate. in truth, the small security offered by those borrowing, and the arbitrary manner in which debts were at times cancelled, increased the risks of the lender and the normal difficulties of obtaining a loan. we find everywhere, in all ancient legislations, a mass of rules on the rate of pecuniary interest to be allowed to the jews. [illustration: fig. .--legend of the jew calling the devil from a vessel of blood.--fac-simile of a woodcut in boaistuau's "histoires prodigieuses:" in to, paris, annet briere, .] in some countries, especially in england, precautionary measures were taken for regulating the compacts entered into between christians and jews. one of the departments of the exchequer received the register of these compacts, which thus acquired a legal value. however, it was not unfrequent for the kings of england to grant, of their own free will, letters of release to persons owing money to jews; and these letters, which were often equivalent to the cancelling of the entire debt, were even at times actually purchased from the sovereign. mention of sums received by the royal treasury for the liberation of debtors, or for enabling them to recover their mortgaged lands without payment, may still be found in the registers of the exchequer of london; at the same time, jews, on the other hand, also paid the king large sums, in order that he might allow justice to take its course against powerful debtors who were in arrear, and who could not be induced to pay. we thus see that if the jews practised usury, the christians, and especially kings and powerful nobles, defrauded the jews in every way, and were too often disposed to sell to them the smallest concessions at a great price. indeed, christians often went so far as to persecute them, in order to obtain the greatest possible amount from them; and the jews of the middle ages put up with anything provided they could enrich themselves. [illustration: fig. .--view and plan of jerusalem.--fac-simile of a woodout in the "liber chronicarum mundi" large folio, nuremberg, .] it must not be supposed, however, that, great as were their capabilities, the jews exclusively devoted themselves to financial matters. when they were permitted to trade they were well satisfied to become artisans or agriculturists. in spain they proved themselves most industrious, and that kingdom suffered a great loss in consequence of their being expelled from it. in whatever country they established themselves, the jews carried on most of the mechanical and manual industries with cleverness and success; but they could not hope to become landed proprietors in countries where they were in such bad odour, and where the possession of land, far from offering them any security, could not fail to excite the envy of their enemies. if, as is the case, oriental people are of a serious turn of mind, it is easy to understand that the jews should have been still more so, since they were always objects of hatred and abhorrence. we find a touching allegory in the talmud. each time that a human being is created god orders his angels to bring a soul before his throne, and orders this soul to go and inhabit the body which is about to be born on earth. the soul is grieved, and supplicates the supreme being to spare it that painful trial, in which it only sees sorrow and affliction. this allegory may be suitably applied to a people who have only to expect contempt, mistrust, and hatred, everywhere. the israelites, therefore, clung enthusiastically to the hope of the advent of a messiah who should bring back to them the happy days of the land of promise, and they looked upon their absence from palestine as only a passing exile. "but," the christians said to them, "this messiah has long since come." "alas!" they answered, "if he had appeared on earth should we still be miserable?" fulbert, bishop of chartres, preached three sermons to undeceive the jews, by endeavouring to prove to them that their messiah was no other than jesus christ; but he preached to the winds, for the jews remained obstinately attached to their illusion that the messiah was yet to come. in any case, the jews, who mixed up the mysteries and absurdities of the talmud with the ancient laws and numerous rules of the religion of their ancestors, found in the practice of their national customs, and in the celebration of their mysterious ceremonies, the sweetest emotions, especially when they could devote themselves to them in the peaceful retirement of the ghetto; for, in all the countries in which they lived scattered and isolated amongst christians, they were careful to conceal their worship and to conduct their ceremonial as secretly as possible. the clergy, in striving to convert the jews, repeatedly had conferences with the rabbis of a controversial character, which often led to quarrels, and aggravated the lot of the jewish community. if catholic proselystism succeeded in completely detaching a few individuals or a few families from the israelitish creed, these ardent converts rekindled the horror of the people against their former co-religionists by revealing some of the precepts of the talmud. sometimes the conversion of whole masses of jews was effected, but this happened much less through conviction on their part than through the fear of exile, plunder, or execution. these pretended conversions, however, did not always protect them from danger. in spain the inquisition kept a close watch on converted jews, and, if they were not true to their new faith, severe punishment was inflicted upon them. in , the inhabitants of abrantès, a town of portugal, massacred all the baptized jews. manoël, a king of portugal, forbad the converts from selling their goods and leaving his dominions. the church excluded them from ecclesiastical dignities, and, when they succeeded in obtaining civil employments, they were received with distrust. in france the parliaments tried, with a show of justice, to prevent converted jews from being reproached for their former condition; but louis xii., during his pressing wants, did not scruple to exact a special tax from them. and, in , we again find that they were unjustly denounced, and under the form of a _remonstrance to the king and the parliament of provence, on account of the great family alliances of the new converts_, an appeal was made for the most cruel reprisals against this unfortunate race, "which deserved only to be banished and their goods confiscated." [illustration: fig. .--jewish ceremony before the ark.--fac-simile of a woodcut printed at troyes.] gipsies, tramps, beggars, and cours des miracles. first appearance of gipsies in the west.--gipsies in paris.--manners and customs of these wandering tribes.--tricks of captain charles.--gipsies expelled by royal edict.--language of gipsies.--the kingdom of slang.--the great coesre, chief of the vagrants; his vassals and subjects.--divisions of the slang people; its decay and the causes thereof.--cours des miracles.--the camp of rognes.--cunning language, or slang.--foreign rogues, thieves, and pickpockets. in the year the inhabitants of the countries situated near the mouth of the elbe were disturbed by the arrival of strangers, whose manners and appearance were far from pre-possessing. these strange travellers took a course thence towards the teutonic hanse, starting from luneburg: they subsequently proceeded to hamburg, and then, going from east to west along the baltic, they visited the free towns of lubeck, wismar, rostock, stralsund, and greifswald. these new visitors, known in europe under the names of _zingari, cigani, gipsies, gitanos, egyptians_, or _bohemians_, but who, in their own language, called themselves _romi_, or _gens mariés_, numbered about three hundred men and women, besides the children, who were very numerous. they divided themselves into seven bands, all of which followed the same track. very dirty, excessively ugly, and remarkable for their dark complexions, these people had for their leaders a duke and a count, as they were called, who were superbly dressed, and to whom they acknowledged allegiance. some of them rode on horseback, whilst others went on foot. the women and children travelled on beasts of burden and in waggons (fig. ). if we are to believe their own story, their wandering life was caused by their return to paganism after having been previously converted to the christian faith, and, as a punishment for their sin, they were to continue their adventurous course for a period of seven years. they showed letters of recommendation from various princes, among others from sigismund, king of the romans, and these letters, whether authentic or false, procured for them a welcome wherever they went. they encamped in the fields at night, because the habit they indulged in of stealing everything for which they had a fancy, caused them to fear being disturbed in the towns. it was not long, however, before many of them were arrested and put to death for theft, when the rest speedily decamped. [illustration: fig. .--gipsies on the march.--fifteenth century piece of old tapestry in the château d'effiat, contributed by m.a. jubinal.] in the course of the following year we find them at meissen, in saxony, whence they were driven out on account of the robberies and disturbances they committed; and then in switzerland, where they passed through the countries of the grisons, the cantons of appenzell, and zurich, stopping in argovie. chroniclers who mention them at that time speak of their chief, michel, as duke of egypt, and relate that these strangers, calling themselves egyptians, pretended that they were driven from their country by the sultan of turkey, and condemned to wander for seven years in want and misery. these chroniclers add that they were very honest people, who scrupulously followed all the practices of the christian religion; that they were poorly clad, but that they had gold and silver in abundance; that they lived well, and paid for everything they had; and that, at the end of seven years, they went away to return home, as they said. however, whether because a considerable number remained on the road, or because they had been reinforced by others of the same tribe during the year, a troop of fifty men, accompanied by a number of hideous women and filthy children, made their appearance in the neighbourhood of augsburg. these vagabonds gave out that they were exiles from lower egypt, and pretended to know the art of predicting coming events. it was soon found out that they were much less versed in divination and in the occult sciences than in the arts of plundering, roguery, and cheating. in the following year a similar horde, calling themselves saracens, appeared at sisteron, in provence; and on the th. of july, , a chronicler of bologna mentions the arrival in that town of a troop of foreigners, commanded by a certain andré, duke of egypt, and composed of at least one hundred persons, including women and children. they encamped inside and outside the gate _di galiera_, with the exception of the duke, who lodged at the inn _del re_. during the fifteen days which they spent at bologna a number of the people of the town went to see them, and especially to see "the wife of the duke," who, it was said, knew how to foretell future events, and to tell what was to happen to people, what their fortunes would be, the number of their children, if they were good or bad, and many other things (fig. ). few men, however, left the house of the so-called duke of egypt without having their purses stolen, and but few women escaped without having the skirts of their dresses cut. the egyptian women walked about the town in groups of six or seven, and whilst some were talking to the townspeople, telling them their fortunes, or bartering in shops, one of their number would lay her hands on anything which was within reach. so many robberies were committed in this way, that the magistrates of the town and the ecclesiastical authorities forbad the inhabitants from visiting the egyptians' camp, or from having any intercourse with them, under penalty of excommunication and of a fine of fifty livres. besides this, by a strange application of the laws of retaliation, those who had been robbed by these foreigners were permitted to rob them to the extent of the value of the things stolen. in consequence of this, the bolognians entered a stable in which several of the egyptians' horses were kept, and took out one of the finest of them. in order to recover him the egyptians agreed to restore what they had taken, and the restitution was made. but perceiving that they could no longer do any good for themselves in this province, they struck their tents and started for rome, to which city they said they were bound to go, not only in order to accomplish a pilgrimage imposed upon them by the sultan, who had expelled them from their own land, but especially to obtain letters of absolution from the holy father. [illustration: fig. .--gipsies fortune-telling.--fac-simile of a woodcut in the "cosmographie universelle" of munster: in folio, basle, .] in the band left italy, and we find them at basle and in suabia. then, besides the imperial passports, of which they had up to that time alone boasted, they pretended to have in their possession bulls which they stated that they had obtained from the pope. they also modified their original tale, and stated that they were descendants of the egyptians who refused hospitality to the holy virgin and to st. joseph during their flight into egypt: they also declared that, in consequence of this crime, god had doomed their race to perpetual misery and exile. five years later we find them in the neighbourhood of paris. "the sunday after the middle of august," says "the journal of a bourgeois of paris," "there came to paris twelve so-called pilgrims, that is to say, a duke, a count, and ten men, all on horseback; they said that they were very good christians, and that they came from lower egypt; ... and on the th of august, the anniversary of the beheading of st. john, the rest of the band made their appearance. these, however, were not allowed to enter paris, but, by order of the provost, were lodged in the chapel of st. denis. they did not number more than one hundred and twenty, including women and children. they stated that, when they left their own country, they numbered from a thousand to twelve hundred, but that the rest had died on the road..... whilst they were at the chapel never was such a concourse of people collected, even at the blessing of the fair of landit, as went from paris, st. denis, and elsewhere, to see these strangers. almost all of them had their ears pierced, and in each one or two silver rings, which in their country, they said, was a mark of nobility. the men were very swarthy, with curly hair; the women were very ugly, and extremely dark, with long black hair, like a horse's tail; their only garment being an old rug tied round the shoulder by a strip of cloth or a bit of rope (fig. ). amongst them were several fortune-tellers, who, by looking into people's hands, told them what had happened or what was to happen to them, and by this means often did a good deal to sow discord in families. what was worse, either by magic, by satanic agency, or by sleight of hand, they managed to empty people's purses whilst talking to them.... so, at least, every one said. at last accounts respecting them reached the ears of the bishop of paris. he went to them with a franciscan friar, called le petit jacobin, who, by the bishop's order, delivered an earnest address to them, and excommunicated all those who had anything to do with them, or who had their fortunes told. he further advised the gipsies to go away, and, on the festival of notre-dame, they departed for pontoise." [illustration: fig. .--a gipsy family.--fac-simile of a woodcut in the "cosmographie universelle" of munster: in folio, basle, .] here, again, the gipsies somewhat varied their story. they said that they were originally christians; but that, in consequence of an invasion by the saracens, they had been forced to renounce their religion; that, at a subsequent period, powerful monarchs had come to free them from the yoke of the infidels, and had decreed that, as a punishment to them for having renounced the christian faith, they should not be allowed to return to their country before they had obtained permission from the pope. they stated that the holy father, to whom they had gone to confess their sins, had then ordered them to wander about the world for seven years, without sleeping in beds, at the same time giving direction to every bishop and every priest whom they met to offer them ten livres; a direction which the abbots and bishops were in no hurry to obey. these strange pilgrims stated that they had been only five years on the road when they arrived in paris. enough has been said to show that, although the object of their long pilgrimage was ostensibly a pious one, the egyptians or gipsies were not very slow in giving to the people whom they visited a true estimate of their questionable honesty, and we do not think it would be particularly interesting to follow step by step the track of this odious band, which from this period made its appearance sometimes in one country and sometimes in another, not only in the north but in the south, and especially in the centre of europe. suffice it to say that their quarrels with the authorities, or the inhabitants of the countries which had the misfortune to be periodically visited by them, have left numerous traces in history. on the th of november, , from sixty to eighty gipsies, coming from courtisolles, arrived at the entrance of the town of cheppe, near châlons-sur-marne. the strangers, many of whom carried "javelins, darts, and other implements of war," having asked for hospitality, the mayor of the town informed them "that it was not long since some of the same company, or others very like them, had been lodged in the town, and had been guilty of various acts of theft." the gipsies persisted in their demands, the indignation of the people was aroused, and they were soon obliged to resume their journey. during their unwilling retreat, they were pursued by many of the inhabitants of the town, one of whom killed a gipsy named martin de la barre: the murderer, however, obtained the king's pardon. in , at pleinpalais, a suburb of geneva, some rascals from among a band of gipsies, consisting of upwards of three hundred in number, fell upon several of the officers who were stationed to prevent their entering the town. the citizens hurried up to the scene of disturbance. the gipsies retired to the monastery of the augustin friars, in which they fortified themselves: the bourgeois besieged them, and would have committed summary justice on them, but the authorities interfered, and some twenty of the vagrants were arrested, but they sued for mercy, and were discharged. [illustration: fig. .--gipsy encampment.--fac-simile of a copper-plate by callot.] in , the inhabitants of viarme, in the department of lot-et-garonne, made an onslaught upon a troop of gipsies who wanted to take up their quarters in that town. the whole of them were killed, with the exception of their chief, who was taken prisoner and brought before the parliament of bordeaux, and ordered to be hung. twenty-one years before this, the mayor and magistrates of bordeaux gave orders to the soldiers of the watch to arrest a gipsy chief, who, having shut himself up in the tower of veyrines, at merignac, ransacked the surrounding country. on the st of july, , the same magistrates ordered the gipsies to leave the parish of eysines within twenty-four hours, under penalty of the lash. it was not often that the gipsies used violence or openly resisted authority; they more frequently had recourse to artifice and cunning in order to attain their end. a certain captain charles acquired a great reputation amongst them for the clever trickeries which he continually conceived, and which his troop undertook to carry out. a chronicler of the time says, that by means of certain herbs which he gave to a half-starved horse, he made him into a fat and sleek animal; the horse was then sold at one of the neighbouring fairs or markets, but the purchaser detected the fraud within a week, for the horse soon became thin again, and usually sickened and died. tallemant des réaux relates that, on one occasion, captain charles and his attendants took up their quarters in a village, the curé of which being rich and parsimonious, was much disliked by his parishioners. the curé never left his house, and the gipsies could not, therefore, get an opportunity to rob him. in this difficulty, they pretended that one of them had committed a crime, and had been condemned to be hung a quarter of a league from the village, where they betook themselves with all their goods. the man, at the foot of the gibbet, asked for a confessor, and they went to fetch the curé. he, at first, refused to go, but his parishioners compelled him. during his absence some gipsies entered his house, took five hundred écus from his strong box, and quickly rejoined the troop. as soon as the rascal saw them returning, he said that he appealed to the king of _la petite egypte_, upon which the captain exclaimed, "ah! the traitor! i expected he would appeal." immediately they packed up, secured the prisoner, and were far enough away from the scene before the curé re-entered his house. tallemant relates another good trick. near roye, in picardy, a gipsy who had stolen a sheep offered it to a butcher for one hundred sous (about sixty francs of our money), but the butcher declined to give more than four livres for it. the butcher then went away; whereupon the gipsy pulled the sheep from a sack into which he had put it, and substituted for it a child belonging to his tribe. he then ran after the butcher, and said, "give me five livres, and you shall have the sack into the bargain." the butcher paid him the money, and went away. when he got home he opened the sack, and was much astonished when he saw a little boy jump out of it, who, in an instant, caught up the sack and ran off. "never was a poor man so thoroughly hoaxed as this butcher," says tallemant des réaux. the gipsies had thousands of other tricks in stock as good as the ones we have just related, in proof of which we have but to refer to the testimony of one of their own tribe, who, under the name of pechon de ruby, published, towards the close of the sixteenth century, "la vie généreuse des mattois, guex, bohémiens, et cagoux." "when they want to leave a place where they have been stopping, they set out in an opposite direction to that in which they are going, and after travelling about half a league they take their right course. they possess the best and most accurate maps, in which are laid down not only all the towns, villages, and rivers, but also the houses of the gentry and others; and they fix upon places of rendezvous every ten days, at twenty leagues from the point from whence they set out.... the captain hands over to each of the chiefs three or four families to take charge of, and these small bands take different cross-roads towards the place of rendezvous. those who are well armed and mounted he sends off with a good almanac, on which are marked all the fairs, and they continually change their dress and their horses. when they take up their quarters in any village they steal very little in its immediate vicinity, but in the neighbouring parishes they rob and plunder in the most daring manner. if they find a sum of money they give notice to the captain, and make a rapid flight from the place. they coin counterfeit money, and put it into circulation. they play at all sorts of games; they buy all sorts of horses; whether sound or unsound, provided they can manage to pay for them in their own base coin. when they buy food they pay for it in good money the first time, as they are held in such distrust; but, when they are about to leave a neighbourhood, they again buy something, for which they tender false coin, receiving the change in good money. in harvest time all doors are shut against them; nevertheless they contrive, by means of picklocks and other instruments, to effect an entrance into houses, when they steal linen, cloaks, silver, and any other movable article which they can lay their hands on. they give a strict account of everything to their captain, who takes his share of all they get, except of what they earn by fortune-telling. they are very clever at making a good bargain; when they know of a rich merchant being in the place, they disguise themselves, enter into communications with him, and swindle him, ... after which they change their clothes, have their horses shod the reverse way, and the shoes covered with some soft material lest they should be heard, and gallop away." [illustration: fig. .--the gipsy who used to wash his hands in molten lead.--fac-simile of a woodcut in the "histoires merveilleuses" of pierre boaistuau: in to, .] in the "histoire générale des larrons" we read that the vagabonds called gipsies sometimes played tricks with goblets, sometimes danced on the tight-rope, turned double-somersaults, and performed other feats (fig. ), which proves that these adventurers adopted all kinds of methods of gaining a livelihood, highway robbery not excepted. we must not, therefore, be surprised if in almost all countries very severe police measures were taken against this dangerous race, though we must admit that these measures sometimes partook of a barbarous character. after having forbidden them, with a threat of six years at the galleys, to sojourn in spain, charles v. ordered them to leave flanders under penalty of death. in , a gipsy who had infringed the sentence of banishment was condemned by the court of utrecht to be flogged till the blood appeared, to have his nostrils slit, his hair removed, his beard shaved off, and to be banished for life. "we can form some idea," says the german historian grellman, "of the miserable condition of the gipsies from the following facts: many of them, and especially the women, have been burned by their own request, in order to end their miserable state of existence; and we can give the case of a gipsy who, having been arrested, flogged, and conducted to the frontier, with the threat that if he reappeared in the country he would be hanged, resolutely returned after three successive and similar threats, at three different places, and implored that the capital sentence might be carried out, in order that he might be released from a life of such misery. these unfortunate people," continues the historian, "were not even looked upon as human beings, for, during a hunting party, consisting of members of a small german court, the huntsmen had no scruple whatever in killing a gipsy woman who was suckling her child, just as they would have done any wild beast which came in their way." m. francisque michel says, "amongst the questions which arise from a consideration of the existence of this remarkable people, is one which, although neglected, is nevertheless of considerable interest, namely, how, with a strange language, unlike any used in europe, the gipsies could make themselves understood by the people amongst whom they made their appearance for the first time: newly arrived in the west, they could have none of those interpreters who are only to be found amongst a long-established people, and who have political and commercial intercourse with other nations. where, then, did the gipsies obtain interpreters? the answer seems to us to be clear. receiving into their ranks all those whom crime, the fear of punishment, an uneasy conscience, or the charm of a roaming life, continually threw in their path, they made use of them either to find their way into countries of which they were ignorant, or to commit robberies which would otherwise have been impracticable. themselves adepts in all sorts of bad practices, they were not slow to form an alliance with profligate characters who sometimes worked in concert with them, and sometimes alone, and who always framed the model for their own organization from that of the gipsies." [illustration: fig. .--orphans, _callots_, and the family of the grand coesre.--from painted hangings and tapestry from the town of rheims, executed during the fifteenth century.] this alliance--governed by statutes, the honour of compiling which has been given to a certain ragot, who styled himself captain--was composed of _matois_, or sharpers; of _mercelots_, or hawkers, who were very little better than the former; of _gueux_, or dishonest beggars, and of a host of other swindlers, constituting the order or hierarchy of the _argot_, or slang people. their chief was called the _grand coesre_, "a vagabond broken to all the tricks of his trade," says m. francisque michel, and who frequently ended his days on the rack or the gibbet. history has furnished us with the story of a "miserable cripple" who used to sit in a wooden bowl, and who, after having been grand coesre for three years, was broken alive on the wheel at bordeaux for his crimes. he was called _roi de tunes_ (tunis), and was drawn about by two large dogs. one of his successors, the grand coesre surnamed anacréon, who suffered from the same infirmity, namely, that of a cripple, rode about paris on a donkey begging. he generally held his court on the port-au-foin, where he sat on his throne dressed in a mantle made of a thousand pieces. the grand coesre had a lieutenant in each province called _cagou_, whose business it was to initiate apprentices in the secrets of the craft, and who looked after, in different localities, those whom the chief had entrusted to his care. he gave an account of the property he received in thus exercising his stewardship, and of the money as well as of the clothing which he took from the _argotiers_ who refused to recognise his authority. as a remuneration for their duties, the cagoux were exempt from all tribute to their chief; they received their share of the property taken from persons whom they had ordered to be robbed, and they were free to beg in any way they pleased. after the cagoux came the _archisuppôts_, who, being recruited from the lowest dregs of the clergy and others who had been in a better position, were, so to speak, the teachers of the law. to them was intrusted the duty of instructing the less experienced rogues, and of determining the language of slang; and, as a reward for their good and loyal services, they had the right of begging without paying any fees to their chiefs. [illustration: fig. .--the blind and the poor sick of st. john.--from painted hangings and tapestry in the town of rheims, executed during the fifteenth century.] the grand coesre levied a tax of twenty-four sous per annum upon the young rogues, who went about the streets pretending to shed tears (fig. ), as "helpless orphans," in order to excite public sympathy. the _marcandiers_ had to pay an écu; they were tramps clothed in a tolerably good doublet, who passed themselves off as merchants ruined by war, by fire, or by having been robbed on the highway. the _malingreux_ had to pay forty sous; they were covered with sores, most of which were self-inflicted, or they pretended to have swellings of some kind, and stated that they were about to undertake a pilgrimage to st. méen, in brittany, in order to be cured. the _piètres_, or lame rogues, paid half an écu, and walked with crutches. the _sabouleux_, who were commonly called the _poor sick of st. john_, were in the habit of frequenting fairs and markets, or the vicinity of churches; there, smeared with blood and appearing as if foaming at the mouth by means of a piece of soap they had placed in it, they struggled on the ground as if in a fit, and in this way realised a considerable amount of alms. these consequently paid the largest fees to the coesre (fig. ). [illustration: fig. .--the _ruffes_ and the _millards_.--from painted hangings and tapestry of rheims, executed about the fifteenth century.] besides these, there were the _callots_, who were either affected with a scurfy disease or pretended to be so, and who were contributors to the civil list of their chief to the amount of sevens sous; as also the _coquillards_, or pretended pilgrims of st. james or st. michael; and the _hubins_, who, according to the forged certificate which they carried with them, were going to, or returning from, st. hubert, after having been bitten by a mad dog. the _polissons_ paid two écus to the coesre, but they earned a considerable amount, especially in winter; for benevolent people, touched with their destitution and half-nakedness, gave them sometimes a doublet, sometimes a shirt, or some other article of clothing, which of course they immediately sold. the _francs mitoux_, who were never taxed above five sous, were sickly members of the fraternity, or at all events pretended to be such; they tied their arms above the elbow so as to stop the pulse, and fell down apparently fainting on the public footpaths. we must also mention the _ruffés_ and the _millards_, who went into the country in groups begging (fig. ). the _capons_ were cut-purses, who hardly ever left the towns, and who laid hands on everything within their reach. the _courtauds de boutanche_ pretended to be workmen, and were to be met with everywhere with the tools of their craft on their back, though they never used them. the _convertis_ pretended to have been impressed by the exhortations of some excellent preacher, and made a public profession of faith; they afterwards stationed themselves at church doors, as recently converted catholics, and in this way received liberal contributions. lastly, we must mention the _drilles_, the _narquois_, or the people of the _petite flambe_, who for the most part were old pensioners, and who begged in the streets from house to house, with their swords at their sides (fig. ). these, who at times lived a racketing and luxurious life, at last rebelled against the grand coesre, and would no longer be reckoned among his subjects--a step which gave a considerable shock to the argotic monarchy. [illustration: fig. .--the _drille_ or _narquois_.--from painted hangings from the town of rheims (fifteenth century).] [illustration: fig. .--perspective view of paris in .--fac-simile of a copper-plate by léonard gaultier. (collection of m. guénebault, paris.)] there was another cause which greatly contributed to diminish the power as well as the prestige of this eccentric sovereign, and this was, that the cut-purses, the night-prowlers and wood-thieves, not finding sufficient means of livelihood in their own department, and seeing that the argotiers, on the contrary, were always in a more luxurious position, tried to amalgamate robbery with mendicity, which raised an outcry amongst these sections of their community. the archisuppôts and the cagoux at first declined such an alliance, but eventually they were obliged to admit all, with the exception of the wood-thieves, who were altogether excluded. in the seventeenth century, therefore, in order to become a thorough argotier, it was necessary not only to solicit alms like any mere beggar, but also to possess the dexterity of the cut-purse and the thief. these arts were to be learned in the places which served as the habitual rendezvous of the very dregs of society, and which were generally known as the _cours des miracles_. these houses, or rather resorts, had been so called, if we are to believe a writer of the early part of the seventeenth century, "because rogues ... and others, who have all day been cripples, maimed, dropsical, and beset with every sort of bodily ailment, come home at night, carrying under their arms a sirloin of beef, a joint of veal, or a leg of mutton, not forgetting to hang a bottle of wine to their belt, and, on entering the court, they throw aside their crutches, resume their healthy and lusty appearance, and, in imitation of the ancient bacchanalian revelries, dance all kinds of dances with their trophies in their hands, whilst the host is preparing their suppers. can there be a greater _miracle_ than is to be seen in this court, where the maimed walk upright?" [illustration: fig. .--_cour des miracles_ of paris. talebot the hunchback, a celebrated scamp during the seventeenth century.--from an old engraving in the collection of engravings in the national library of paris.] in paris there were several _cours des miracles_, but the most celebrated was that which, from the time of sauval, the singular historian of the "antiquities of paris," to the middle of the seventeenth century, preserved this generic name _par excellence_, and which exists to this day (fig. ). he says, "it is a place of considerable size, and is in an unhealthy, muddy, and irregular blind alley. formerly it was situated on the outskirts of paris, now it is in one of the worst built, dirtiest, and most out-of-the-way quarters of the town, between the rue montorgueil, the convent of the filles-dieu, and the rue neuve-saint-sauveur. to get there one must wander through narrow, close, and by-streets; and in order to enter it, one must descend a somewhat winding and rugged declivity. in this place i found a mud house, half buried, very shaky from old age and rottenness, and only eight mètres square; but in which, nevertheless, some fifty families are living, who have the charge of a large number of children, many of whom are stolen or illegitimate.... i was assured that upwards of five hundred large families occupy that and other houses adjoining.... large as this court is, it was formerly even bigger.... here, without any care for the future, every one enjoys the present; and eats in the evening what he has earned during the day with so much trouble, and often with so many blows; for it is one of the fundamental rules of the cour des miracles never to lay by anything for the morrow. every one who lives there indulges in the utmost licentiousness; both religion and law are utterly ignored.... it is true that outwardly they appear to acknowledge a god; for they have set up in a niche an image of god the father, which they have stolen from some church, and before which they come daily to offer up certain prayers; but this is only because they superstitiously imagine that by this means they are released from the necessity of performing the duties of christians to their pastor and their parish, and are even absolved from the sin of entering a church for the purpose of robbery and purse-cutting." paris, the capital of the kingdom of rogues, was not the only town which possessed a cour des miracles, for we find here and there, especially at lyons and bordeaux, some traces of these privileged resorts of rogues and thieves, which then flourished under the sceptre of the grand coesre. sauval states, on the testimony of people worthy of credit, that at sainte-anne d'auray, the most holy place of pilgrimage in brittany, under the superintendence of the order of reformed carmelite friars, there was a large field called the _rogue's field_. this was covered with mud huts; and here the grand coesre resorted annually on the principal solemn festivals, with his officers and subjects, in order "to hold his council of state," that is to say, in order to settle and arrange respecting robbery. at these _state_ meetings, which were not always held at sainte-anne d'auray, all the subjects of the grand coesre were present, and paid homage to their lord and master. some came and paid him the tribute which was required of them by the statutes of the craft; others rendered him an account of what they had done, and what they had earned during the year. when they had executed their work badly, he ordered them to be punished, either corporally or pecuniarily, according to the gravity of their offences. when he had not himself properly governed his people, he was dethroned, and a successor was appointed by acclamation. [illustration: fig. .--beggar playing the fiddle, and his wife accompanying him with the bones.--from an old engraving of the seventeenth century.] at these assemblies, as well as in the cours des miracles, french was not spoken, but a strange and artificial language was used called _jargon_, _langue matoise, narquois_, &c. this language, which is still in use under the name of _argot_, or slang, had for the most part been borrowed from the jargon or slang of the lower orders. to a considerable extent, according to the learned philologist of this mysterious language, m. francisque michel, it was composed of french words lengthened or abbreviated; of proverbial expressions; of words expressing the symbols of things instead of the things themselves; of terms either intentionally or unintentionally altered from their true meaning; and of words which resembled other words in sound, but which had not the same signification. thus, for mouth, they said _pantière_, from _pain_ (bread), which they put into it; the arms were _lyans_ (binders); an ox was a _cornant_ (horned); a purse, a _fouille_, or _fouillouse_; a cock, a _horloge_, or timepiece; the legs, _des quilles_ (nine-pins); a sou, a _rond_, or round thing; the eyes, _des luisants_ (sparklers), &c. in jargon several words were also taken from the ancient language of the gipsies, which testifies to the part which these vagabonds played in the formation of the argotic community. for example, a shirt was called _lime_; a chambermaid, _limogère;_ sheets, _limans_--words all derived from the gipsy word _lima_, a shirt: they called an écu, a _rusquin_ or _rougesme_, from _rujia_, the common word for money; a rich man, _rupin_; a house, _turne_; a knife, _chourin_, from _rup, turna_, and _chori_, which, in the gipsy tongue, mean respectively silver, castle, and knife. from what we have related about rogues and the cours des miracles, one might perhaps be tempted to suppose that france was specially privileged; but it was not so, for italy was far worse in this respect. the rogues were called by the italians _bianti_, or _ceretani_, and were subdivided into more than forty classes, the various characteristics of which have been described by a certain rafael frianoro. it is not necessary to state that the analogue of more than one of these classes is to be found in the short description we have given of the argotic kingdom in france. we will therefore only mention those which were more especially italian. it must not be forgotten that in the southern countries, where religions superstition was more marked than elsewhere, the numerous family of rogues had no difficulty in practising every description of imposture, inasmuch as they trusted to the various manifestations of religions feeling to effect their purposes. thus the _affrati_, in order to obtain more alms and offerings, went about in the garb of monks and priests, even saying mass, and pretending that it was the first time they had exercised their sacred office. so the _morghigeri_ walked behind a donkey, carrying a bell and a lamp, with their string of beads in their hands, and asking how they were to pay for the bell, which they were always "just going to buy." the _felsi_ pretended that they were divinely inspired and endowed with the gift of second sight, and announced that there were hidden treasures in certain houses under the guardianship of evil spirits. they asserted that these treasures could not be discovered without danger, except by means of fastings and offerings, which they and their brethren could alone make, in consideration of which they entered into a bargain, and received a certain sum of money from the owners. the _accatosi_ deserve mention on account of the cleverness with which they contrived to assume the appearance of captives recently escaped from slavery. shaking the chains with which they said they had been bound, jabbering unintelligible words, telling heart-rending tales of their sufferings and privations, and showing the marks of blows which they had received, they went on their knees, begging for money that they might buy off their brethren or their friends, whom they said they had left in the hands of the saracens or the turks, we must mention, also, the _allacrimanti_, or weepers, who owed their name to the facility which they possessed of shedding tears at will; and the _testatori_, who, pretending to be seriously ill and about to die, extorted money from all those to whom they promised to leave their fortunes, though, of course, they had not a son to leave behind them. we must not forget the _protobianti_ (master rogues), who made no scruple of exciting compassion from their own comrades (fig. ), nor the _vergognosi_, who, notwithstanding their poverty, wished to be thought rich, and considered that assistance was due to them from the mere fact of their being noble. we must here conclude, for it would occupy too much time to go through the list of these italian vagabonds. as for the german (figs. and ), spanish, and english rogues, we may simply remark that no type exists among them which is not to be met with amongst the argotiers of france or the bianti of italy. in giving a description, therefore, of the mendicity practised in these two countries during the middle ages, we are sure to be representing what it was in other parts of europe. [illustration: fig. .--italian beggar.--from an engraving by callot.] [illustration: figs. and .--german beggars.--fac-simile of a woodcut in the "cosmographie universelle" of munster: in folio, basle, .] the history of regular robbers and highwaymen during this long period is more difficult to describe; it contains only disconnected anecdotes of a more or less interesting character. it is probable, moreover, that robbers did not always commit their depredations singly, and that they early understood the advantages of associating together. the _tafurs_, or _halegrins_, whom we notice as followers of godefroy de bouillon at the time of the crusades, towards the end of the eleventh century, were terribly bad characters, and are actually accused by contemporary writers of violating tombs, and of living on human flesh. on this account they were looked upon with the utmost horror by the infidels, who dreaded more their savage ferocity than the valour of the crusaders. the latter even, who had these hordes of tafurs under their command, were not without considerable mistrust of them, and when, during their march through hungary, under the protection of the cross, these miscreants committed depredations, godefroy de bouillion was obliged to ask pardon for them from the king of that country. an ancient poet has handed down to us a story in verse setting forth the exploits of eustace the monk, who, after having thrown aside his frock, embraced the life of a robber, and only abandoned it to become admiral of france under philip augustus. he was killed before sandwich, in . we have satisfactory proof that as early as the thirteenth century sharpers were very expert masters of their trade, for the ingenious and amusing tricks of which they were guilty are quite equal to the most skilled of those now recorded in our police reports. in the two following centuries the science of the _pince_ and of the _croc_ (pincers and hook), as it was then called, alone made progress, and pathelin (a character in comedy, and an incomparable type of craft and dishonesty) never lacked disciples any more than villon did imitators. we know that this charming poet, who was at the same time a most expert thief, narrowly escaped hanging on two occasions. his contemporaries attributed to him a poem of twelve hundred verses, entitled "les repues franches," in which are described the methods in use among his companions for procuring wine, bread, meat, and fish, without having to pay for them. they form a series of interesting stories, the moral of which is to be gathered from the following lines:-- "c'est bien, disné, quand on eschappe sans desbourcer pas ung denier, et dire adieu an tavernier, en torchant son nez à la nappe." the meaning of this doggrel, which is somewhat broad, may be rendered--"he dines well who escapes without paying a penny, and who bids farewell to the innkeeper by wiping his nose on the tablecloth." side by side with this poem of yillon we ought to cite one of a later period--"la légende de maître faifeu," versified by charles boudigné. this faifeu was a kind of villon of anjou, who excelled in all kinds of rascality, and who might possibly have taught it even to the gipsies themselves. the character of panurge, in the "pantagruel," is no other than the type of faifeu, immortalised by the genius of rabelais. we must also mention one of the pamphlets of guillaume bouchet, written towards the end of the sixteenth century, which gives a very amusing account of thieves of every description, and also "l'histoire générale des larrons," in which are related numerous wonderful tales of murders, robberies, and other atrocities, which made our admiring ancestors well acquainted with the heroes of the grève and of montfaucon. it must not be supposed that in those days the life of a robber who pursued his occupation with any degree of industry and skill was unattended with danger, for the most harmless cut-purses were hung without mercy whenever they were caught; the fear, however, of this fate did not prevent the _enfants de la matte_ from performing wonders. brantôme relates that king charles ix. had the curiosity to wish to "know how the cut-purses performed their arts with so much skill and dexterity," and begged captain la chambre to introduce to him, on the occasion of a banquet and a ball, the cleverest cut-purses, giving them full liberty to exhibit their skill. the captain went to the cours des miracles and fetched ten of the most expert of these thieves, whom he presented to the king. charles, "after the dinner and the ball had taken place, wished to see all the plunder, and found that they had absolutely earned three thousand écus, either in money from purses, or in precious stones, pearls, or other jewels; some of the guests even lost their cloaks, at which the king thought he should die of laughter." the king allowed them to keep what they had thus earned at the expense of his guests; but he forbad them "to continue this sort of life," under penalty of being hung, and he had them enrolled in the army, in order to recompense them for their clever feats. we may safely assert that they made but indifferent soldiers. [illustration: fig. .--the exhibitor of strange animals (twelfth century manuscript, royal library of brussels).] ceremonials. origin of modern ceremonial.--uncertainty of french ceremonial up to the end of the sixteenth century.--consecration of the kings of france.--coronation of the emperors of germany.--consecration of the doges of venice.--marriage of the doge with the sea.--state entries of sovereigns.--an account of the entry of isabel of bavaria into paris.--seats of justice.--visits of ceremony between persons of rank.--mourning.--social courtesies.--popular demonstrations and national commemorations.--new year's day.--local festivals.--_vins d'honneur._--processions of trades. although society during the middle ages was, as a whole, closely cemented together, being animated by the same sentiments and imbued with the same spirit, it was divided, as we have already stated, into three great classes, namely, the clergy, the nobility, and the _liers-état._ these classes, each of which formed a distinct body within the state, carried on an existence peculiar to itself, and presented in its collective capacity a separate individuality. hence there was a distinct ceremonial for each class. we will not attempt to give in detail the innumerable laws of these three kinds of ceremonial; our attention will be directed solely to their most characteristic customs, and to their most remarkable and interesting aspects taken as a whole. we must altogether lay aside matters relating specially to ceremonies of a purely religions character, as they are connected more or less with the traditions and customs of the church, and belong to quite a distinct order of things. "when the germans, and especially the franks," says the learned paleographer vallet de viriville, "had succeeded in establishing their own rule in place of that of the romans, these almost savage nations, and the barbarian chiefs who were at their head under the title of kings, necessarily borrowed more or less the refined practices relating to ceremonial possessed by the people whom they had conquered. the elevation of the elected chief or king on the shield and the solemn taking of arms in the midst of the tribe seem to be the only traces of public ceremonies which we can discover among the grermans. the marvellous display and the imposing splendour of the political hierarchy of the roman empire, especially in its outward arrangements, must have astonished the minds of these uncultivated people. thus we find the frank kings becoming immediately after a victory the simple and clumsy imitators of the civilisation which they had broken up." clovis on returning to tours in , after having defeated alaric, received the titles of _patrician_ and _consul_ from the emperor anastasius, and bedecked himself with the purple, the chlamys, and the diadem. the same principle of imitation was afterwards exhibited in the internal and external court ceremonial, in proportion as it became developed in the royal person. charlemagne, who aimed at everything which could adorn and add strength to a new monarchy, established a regular method for the general and special administration of his empire, as also for the internal arrangement and discipline of his palace. we have already referred to this twofold organization (_vide_ chapters on private life and on food), but we may here remark that, notwithstanding these ancient tendencies to the creation of a fixed ceremonial, the trifling rules which made etiquette a science and a law, were introduced by degrees, and have only very recently been established amongst us. in , when king charles vi. married the notorious isabel of bavaria, then scarcely fourteen years of age, he desired to arrange for her a magnificent entry into paris, the pomp and brilliancy of which should be consistent with the rank and illustrious descent of his young bride. he therefore begged the old queen blanche, widow of philippe de valois, to preside over the ceremony, and to have it conducted according to the custom of olden times. she was consequently obliged, in the absence of any fixed rules on the subject, to consult the official records,--that is to say, the "chronique du monastère de saint-denis." the first embodiment of rules relating to these matters in use among the nobility, which had appeared in france under the title of "honneurs de la cour," only goes back to the end of the fifteenth century. it appears, however, that even then this was not generally admitted among the nobility as the basis of ceremonial, for in we find that nothing had been definitely settled. this is evident from the fact that when king henri iii. desired to know the rank and order of precedence of the princes of the royal blood, both dukes and counts--as also that of the other princes, the barons, the nobles of the kingdom, the constables, the marshals of france and the admirals, and what position they had held on great public occasions during the reigns of his predecessors--he commissioned jean du tillet, the civil registrar of the parliament of paris, to search among the royal archives for the various authentic documents which might throw light on this question, and serve as a precedent for the future. in fact, it was henri iii. who, in , created the office of grand master of the ceremonies of france, entrusting it to guillaume pot, a noble of rhodes, which office for many generations remained hereditary in his family. [illustration: fig. .--herald (fourteenth century).--from a miniature in the "chroniques de saint-denis" (imperial library of paris).] nevertheless the question of ceremonial, and especially that of precedence, had already more than once occupied the attention of sovereigns, not only within their own states, but also in relation to diplomatic matters. the meetings of councils, at which the ambassadors of all the christian powers, with the delegates of the catholic church, were assembled, did not fail to bring this subject up for decision. pope julius ii. in instructed pierre de crassis, his master of the ceremonies, to publish a decree, determining the rank to be taken by the various sovereigns of europe or by their representatives; but we should add that this papal decree never received the sanction of the parties interested, and that the question of precedence, even at the most unimportant public ceremonies, was during the whole of the middle ages a perpetual source of litigation in courts of law, and of quarrels which too often ended in bloodshed. it is right that we should place at the head of political ceremonies those having reference to the coronation of sovereigns, which were not only political, but owed their supreme importance and dignity to the necessary intervention of ecclesiastical authority. we will therefore first speak of the consecration and coronation of the kings of france. pépin le bref, son of charles martel and founder of the second dynasty, was the first of the french kings who was consecrated by the religions rite of anointing. but its mode of administration for a long period underwent numerous changes, before becoming established by a definite law. thus pépin, after having been first consecrated in in the cathedral of boissons, by the archbishop of mayence, was again consecrated with his two sons charlemagne and carloman, in , in the abbey of st. denis, by pope stephen iii. charlemagne was twice anointed by the sovereign pontiff, first as king of lombardy, and then as emperor. louis le débonnaire, his immediate successor, was consecrated at rheims by pope stephen iv. in . in louis le bègue received unction and the sceptre, at compiègne, at the hands of the archbishop of rheims. charles le simple in , and robert i. in , were consecrated and crowned at rheims; but the coronation of raoul, in , was celebrated in the abbey of st. médard de soissons, and that of louis d'outremer, in , at laon. from the accession of king lothaire to that of louis vi. (called le gros), the consecration of the kings of france sometimes took place in the metropolitan church of rheims, and sometimes in other churches, but more frequently in the former. louis vi. having been consecrated in the cathedral of orleans, the clergy of rheims appealed against this supposed infraction of custom and their own special privileges. a long discussion took place, in which were brought forward the titles which the church of rheims possessed subsequently to the reign of clovis to the exclusive honour of having kings consecrated in it; and king louis le jeune, son of louis le gros, who was himself consecrated at rheims, promulgated a special decree on this question, in anticipation of the consecration of his son, philippe auguste. this decree finally settled the rights of this ancient church, and at the same time defined the order which was to be observed in future at the ceremony of consecration. from that date, down to the end of the reign of the bourbons of the elder line, kings were invariably consecrated, according to legal rite, in the metropolitan church of rheims, with the exception of henry iv., who was crowned at chartres by the bishop of that town, on account of the civil wars which then divided his kingdom, and caused the gates of rheims to be closed against him. [illustration: fig. .--coronation of charlemagne.--fac-simile of a miniature in the "chroniques de saint-denis," manuscript of the fourteenth century (imperial library of paris).] the consecration of the kings of france always took place on a sunday. on the previous day, at the conclusion of evening prayers, the custody of the cathedral devolved upon certain royal officers, assisted by the ordinary officials. during the evening the monarch came to the church for devotion, and "according to his religions feelings, to pass part of the night in prayer," an act which was called _la veillée des armes_. a large platform, surmounted by a throne, was erected between the chancel and the great nave. upon this assembled, besides the king and his officers of state, twelve ecclesiastical peers, together with those prelates whom the king might be pleased to invite, and six lay peers, with other officers or nobles. at daybreak, the king sent a deputation of barons to the abbey of st. remi for the holy vial, which was a small glass vessel called _ampoule_, from the latin word _ampulla_, containing the holy oil to be used at the royal anointing. according to tradition, this vial was brought from heaven by a dove at the time of the consecration of clovis. four of the nobles remained as hostages at the abbey during the time that the abbot of st. remi, followed by his monks and escorted by the barons, went in procession to the cathedral to place the sacred vessel upon the altar. the abbot of st. denis in france had in a similar manner to bring from rheims with great pomp, and deposit by the side of the holy vial, the royal insignia, which were kept in the treasury of his monastery, and had been there since the reign of charlemagne. they consisted of the crown, the sword sheathed, the golden spurs, the gilt sceptre, the rod adorned with an ivory handle in the form of a hand, the sandals of blue silk, embroidered with fleur de lis, the chasuble or _dalmatique_, and the _surcot_, or royal mantle, in the shape of a cape without a hood. the king, immediately on rising from his bed, entered the cathedral, and forthwith took oath to maintain the catholio faith and the privileges of the church, and to dispense good and impartial justice to his subjects. he then walked to the foot of the altar, and divested himself of part of his dress, having his head bare, and wearing a tunic with openings on the chest, on the shoulders, at the elbows, and in the middle of the back; these openings were closed by means of silver aigulets. the archbishop of rheims then drew the sword from the scabbard and handed it to the king, who passed it to the principal officer in attendance. the prelate then proceeded with the religious part of the ceremony of consecration, and taking a drop of the miraculous oil out of the holy vial by means of a gold needle, he mixed it with the holy oil from his own church. this being done, and sitting in the posture of consecration, he anointed the king, who was kneeling before him, in five different parts of the body, namely, on the forehead, on the breast, on the back, on the shoulders, and on the joints of the arms. after this the king rose up, and with the assistance of his officers, put on his royal robes. the archbishop handed to him successively the ring, the sceptre, and the rod of justice, and lastly placed the crown on his head. at this moment the twelve peers formed themselves into a group, the lay peers being in the first rank, immediately around the sovereign, and raising their hands to the crown, they held it for a moment, and then they conducted the king to the throne. the consecrating prelate, putting down his mitre, then knelt at the feet of the monarch and took the oath of allegiance, his example being followed by the other peers and their vassals who were in attendance. at the same time, the cry of "_vive le roi_!" uttered by the archbishop, was repeated three times outside the cathedral by the heralds-at-arms, who shouted it to the assembled multitude. the latter replied, "_noel! noel! noel!_" and scrambled for the small pieces of money thrown to them by the officers, who at the same time cried out, "_largesse, largesse aux manants_!" every part of this ceremony was accompanied by benedictions and prayers, the form of which was read out of the consecration service as ordered by the bishop, and the proceedings terminated by the return of the civil and religious procession which had composed the _cortège_. when the sovereign was married, his wife participated with him in the honours of the consecration, the symbolical investiture, and the coronation; but she only partook of the homage rendered to the king to a limited degree, which was meant to imply that the queen had a less extended authority and a less exalted rank. [illustration: fig. .--dalmatica and sandals of charlemagne, insignia of the kings of france at their coronation, preserved in the treasury of the abbey of st. denis.] the ceremonies which accompanied the accessions of the emperors of germany (fig. ) are equally interesting, and were settled by a decree which the emperor charles ix. promulgated in , at the diet of nuremberg. according to the terms of this decree--which is still preserved among the archives of frankfort-on-the-main, and which is known as the _bulle d'or_, or golden bull, from the fact of its bearing a seal of pure gold--on the death of an emperor, the archbishop of mayence summoned, for an appointed day, the prince electors of the empire, who, during the whole course of the middle ages, remained seven in number, "in honour," says the bull, "of the seven candlesticks mentioned in the apocalypse." these electors--who occupied the same position near the emperor that the twelve peers did in relation to the king of france--were the archbishops of mayence, of trèves, and of cologne, the king of bohemia, the count palatine of the rhine, the duke of saxony, and the margrave of brandenburg. on the appointed day, the mass of the holy spirit was duly solemnized in the church of st. bartholomew of frankfort, a town in which not only the election of the emperor, but also his coronation, almost always took place, though one might have supposed that aix-la-chapelle would have been selected for such ceremonies. the electors attended, and after the service was concluded, they retired to the sacristy of the church, accompanied by their officers and secretaries, they had thirty days for deliberation, but beyond that period they were not allowed "to eat bread or drink water" until they had agreed, at least by a majority, to give _a temporal chief to the christian people, that is to say, a king of the romans, who should in due time be promoted to be emperor_, the newly-elected prince was, in fact, at first simply _king of the romans_, and this title was often borne by persons who were merely nominated for the office by the voice of the electors, or by political combinations. in order to be promoted to the full measure of power and authority, the king of the romans had to receive both religions consecration and the crown. the ceremonies adopted at this solemnity were very analogous to those used at the consecrations of the kings of france, as well as to those of installation of all christian princes. the service was celebrated by the archbishop of cologne, who placed the crown on the head of the sovereign-elect, whom he consecrated emperor. the symbols of his authority were handed to him by the electors, and then he was proclaimed, "_cæsar, most sacred, ever august majesty, emperor, of the holy roman empire of the nation of germany_." [illustration: fig. .--costume of emperors at their coronation since the time of charlemagne.--from an engraving in a work entitled "insignia sacre majistatis cæsarum principum." frankfort, , in folio.] the imperial _cortége_ then came out from the church of st. bartholomew, and went through the town, halting at the town-hall (called the _roemer_, in commemoration of the noble name of rome), where a splendid banquet, prepared in the _kaysersaal_ (hall of the caesars), awaited the principal performers in this august ceremony. at the moment that the emperor set foot on the threshold of the roemer, the elector of saxony, chief marshal of the empire, on horseback, galloped at full speed towards a heap of oats which was piled up in the middle of the square. holding in one hand a silver measure, and in the other a scraper of the same metal, each of which weighed six marks, he filled the measure with oats, levelled it with the scraper, and handed it over to the hereditary marshal. the rest of the heap was noisily scrambled for by the people who had been witnesses of this allegorical performance. then the count palatine, as chief seneschal, proceeded to perform his part in the ceremony, which consisted of placing before the emperor, who was sitting at table, four silver dishes, each weighing three marks. the king of bohemia, as chief butler, handed to the monarch wine and water in a silver cup weighing twelve marks; and then the margrave of magdeburg presented to him a silver basin of the same weight for washing his hands. the other three electors, or arch-chancellors, provided at their own expense the silver baton, weighing twelve marks, suspended to which one of them carried the seals of the empire. lastly, the emperor, and with him the empress if he was married, the princes, and the electors, sat down to a banquet at separate tables, and were waited upon by their respective officers. on another table or stage were placed the imperial insignia. the ceremony was concluded outside by public rejoicings: fountains were set to play; wine, beer, and other beverages were distributed; gigantic bonfires were made, at which whole oxen were roasted; refreshment tables were set out in the open air, at which any one might sit down and partake, and, in a word, every bounty as well as every amusement was provided. in this way for centuries public fêtes were celebrated on these occasions. [illustration: fig. .--imperial procession.--from an engraving of the "solemn entry of charles v. and clement vii. into bologna," by l. de cranach, from a fresco by brusasorci, of verona.] the doges of venice, as well as the emperors of germany, and some other heads of states, differed from other christian sovereigns in this respect, that, instead of holding their high office by hereditary or divine right, they were installed therein by election. at venice, a conclave, consisting of forty electors, appointed by a much more numerous body of men of high position, elected the doge, or president of _the most serene republic_. from the day when laurent tiepolo, immediately after his election in , was spontaneously carried in triumph by the venetian sailors, it became the custom for a similar ovation to take place in honour of any newly-elected doge. in order to do this, the workmen of the harbour had the new doge seated in a splendid palanquin, and carried him on their shoulders in great pomp round the piazza san marco. but another still more characteristic ceremony distinguished this magisterial election. on ascension day, the doge, entering a magnificent galley, called the _bucentaur_, which was elegantly equipped, and resplendent with gold and precious stuffs, crossed the grand canal, went outside the town, and proceeded in the midst of a nautical _cortége_, escorted by bands of music, to the distance of about a league from the town on the adriatic gulf. then the patriarch of venice gave his blessing to the sea, and the doge, taking the helm, threw a gold ring into the water, saying, "o sea! i espouse thee in the name, and in token, of our true and perpetual sovereignty." immediately the waters were strewed with flowers, and the shouts of joy, and the clapping of hands of the crowd, were intermingled with the strains of instruments of music of all sorts, whilst the glorious sky of venice smiled on the poetic scene. the greater part of the principal ceremonies of the middle ages acquired, from various accessory and local circumstances, a character of grandeur well fitted to impress the minds of the populace. on these memorable occasions the exhibition of some historical memorial, of certain traditional symbols, of certain relics, &c., brought to the recollection the most celebrated events in national history--events already possessing the prestige of antiquity as well as the veneration of the people. thus, as a memorial of the consecration of the kings of hungary, the actual crown of holy king stephen was used; at the consecration of the kings of england, the actual chair of edward the confessor was used; at the consecration of the emperors of germany, the imperial insignia actually used by charlemagne formed part of the display; at the consecration of the kings of france at a certain period, the hand of justice of st. louis, which has been before alluded to, was produced. [illustration: fig. .--standards of the church and the empire.--reduced from an engraving of the "entry of charles v. and clement vii. into bologna," by lucas de cranach, from a fresco by brusasorci, of verona.] after their consecration by the church and by the spiritual power, the sovereigns had simply to take actual possession of their dominions, and, so to speak, of their subjects. this positive act of sovereignty was often accompanied by another class of ceremonies, called _joyous entry_, or _public entry._ these entries, of which numerous accounts have been handed down to us by historians, and which for the most part were very varied in character, naturally took place in the capital city. we will limit ourselves to transcribing the account given by the ancient chronicler, juvenal des ursins, of the entry into paris of queen isabel of bavaria, wife of charles vi., which was a curious specimen of the public fêtes of this kind. [illustration: fig. .--grand procession of the doge, venice (sixteenth century).--reduced from one of fourteen engravings representing this ceremony, designed and engraved by j. amman.] "in the year , the king was desirous that the queen should make a public entry into paris, and this he made known to the inhabitants, in order that they should make preparations for it. and there were at each cross roads divers _histoires_ (historical representations, pictures, or tableaux vivants), and fountains sending forth water, wine, and milk. the people of paris in great numbers went out to meet the queen, with the provost of the merchants, crying '_noel!_' the bridge by which she passed was covered with blue taffeta, embroidered with golden fleurs-de-lys. a man of light weight, dressed in the guise of an angel, came down, by means of some well-constructed machinery, from one of the towers of notre-dame, to the said bridge through an opening in the said blue taffeta, at the moment when the queen was passing, and placed a beautiful crown on her head. after he had done this, he withdrew through the said opening by the same means, and thus appeared as if he were returning to the skies of his own accord. before the grand chastelet there was a splendid court adorned with azure tapestry, which was intended to be a representation of the _lit-de-justice,_ and it was very large and richly decorated. in the middle of it was a very large pure white artificial stag, its horns gilt, and its neck encircled with a crown of gold. it was so ingeniously constructed that its eyes, horns, mouth, and all its limbs, were put in motion by a man who was secreted within its body. hanging to its neck were the king's arms--that is to say, three gold fleur-de-lys on an azure shield.... near the stag there was a large sword, beautiful and bright, unsheathed; and when the queen passed, the stag was made to take the sword in the right fore-foot, to hold it out straight, and to brandish it. it was reported to the king that the said preparations were made, and he said to savoisy, who was one of those nearest to him, 'savoisy, i earnestly entreat thee to mount a good horse, and i will ride behind thee, and we will so dress ourselves that no one will know us, and let us go and see the entry of my wife.' and, although savoisy did all he could to dissuade him, the king insisted, and ordered that it should be done. so savoisy did what the king had ordered, and disguised himself as well as he could, and mounted on a powerful horse with the king behind him. they went through the town, and managed so as to reach the chastelet at the time the queen was passing. there was a great crowd, and savoisy placed himself as near as he could, and there were sergeants on all sides with thick birch wands, who, in order to prevent the crowd from pressing upon and injuring the court where the stag was, hit away with their wands as hard as they could. savoisy struggled continually to get nearer and nearer, and the sergeants, who neither knew the king nor savoisy, struck away at them, and the king received several very hard and well-directed blows on the shoulders. in the evening, in the presence of the ladies, the matter was talked over, and they began to joke about it, and even the king himself laughed at the blows he had received. the queen on her entry was seated on a litter, and very magnificently dressed, as were also the ladies and maids of honour. it was indeed a splendid sight; and if any one wished to describe the dresses of the ladies, of the knights and squires, and of those who escorted the queen, it would take a long time to do so. after supper, singing and dancing commenced, which continued until daylight. the next day there were tournaments and other sports" (fig. ). [illustration: entry of charles the seventh into paris a miniature from _monstrelet the chronicles_ in the bibl. nat. de paris, no , costumes of the sixteenth century.] [illustration: fig. .--tournaments in honour of the entry of queen isabel into paris--from a miniature in the "chroniques" of froissart, manuscript of the fifteenth century (national library of paris).] [illustration: fig. .--seat of justice, held by king philippe de valois, on the th april, , for the trial of robert, comte d'artois.--from a pen-and-ink sketch in an original manuscript (arch. of the empire)] in the course of this simple and graphic description mention has been made of the _lit de justice_ (seat of justice). all judicial or legislative assemblies at which the king considered it his duty to be present were thus designated; when the king came there simply as a looker-on, they were more commonly called _plaidoyers_, and, in this case, no change was made in the ordinary arrangements; but when the king presided they were called _conseils_, and then a special ceremonial was required. in fact, by _lit de justice_ (fig. ), or _cour des pairs_, we understand a court consisting of the high officers of the crown, and of the great executive of the state, whose duty it was to determine whether any peer of france should be tried on a criminal charge; gravely to deliberate on any political matter of special interest; or to register, in the name of the absolute sovereignty of the king, any edict of importance. we know the prominent, and, we may say, even the fatal, part played by these solemnities, which were being continually re-enacted, and on every sort of pretext, during the latter days of monarchy. these courts were always held with impressive pomp. the sovereign usually summoned to them the princes of the blood royal and the officers of his household; the members of the parliament took their seats in scarlet robes, the presidents being habited in their caps and their mantles, and the registrars of the court also wearing their official dress. the high chancellor, the first chamberlain, and the provost of paris, sat at the king's feet. the chancellor of france, the presidents and councillors of the parliament, occupied the bar, and the ushers of the court were in a kneeling posture. having thus mentioned the assemblies of persons of distinction, the interviews of sovereigns (fig. ), and the reception of ambassadors--without describing them in detail, which would involve more space than we have at our command--we will enter upon the subject of the special ceremonial adopted by the nobility, taking as our guide the standard book called "honneurs de la cour," compiled at the end of the fifteenth century by the celebrated aliénor de poitiers. in addition to her own observations, she gives those of her mother, isabelle de souza, who herself had but continued the work of another noble lady, jeanne d'harcourt--married in to the count william de namur--who was considered the best authority to be found in the kingdom of france. this collection of the customs of the court forms a kind of family diary embracing three generations, and extending back over more than a century. notwithstanding the curious and interesting character of this book, and the authority which it possesses on this subject, we cannot, much to our regret, do more than borrow a few passages from it; but these, carefully selected, will no doubt suffice to give some idea of the manners and customs of the nobility during the fifteenth century, and to illustrate the laws of etiquette of which it was the recognised code. one of the early chapters of the work sets forth this fundamental law of french ceremonial, namely, that, "according to the traditions or customs of france, women, however exalted their position, be they even king's daughters, rank with their husbands." we find on the occasion of the marriage of king charles vii. with mary of anjou, in , although probably there had never been assembled together so many princes and ladies of rank, that at the banquet the ladies alone dined with the queen, "and no gentlemen sat with them." we may remark, whilst on this subject, that before the reign of francis i. it was not customary for the two sexes to be associated together in the ordinary intercourse of court life; and we have elsewhere remarked (see chapter on private life) that this departure from ancient custom exerted a considerable influence, not only on manners, but also on public affairs. [illustration: fig. .--interview of king charles v. with the emperor charles iv. in paris in .--fac-simile of a miniature in the description of this interview, manuscript of the fifteenth century, in the library of the arsenal of paris.] the authoress of the "honneurs de la cour" specially mentions the respect which queen mary of anjou paid to the duchess of burgundy when she was at châlons in champagne in : "the duchess came with all her retinue, on horseback and in carriages, into the courtyard of the mansion where the king and queen were, and there alighted, her first maid of honour acting as her train-bearer. m. de bourbon gave her his right hand, and the gentlemen went on in front. in this manner she was conducted to the hall which served as the ante-chamber to the queen's apartment. there she stopped, and sent in m. de crequi to ask the queen if it was her pleasure that she should enter.... when the duchess came to the door she took the train of her dress from the lady who bore it and let it trail on the ground, and as she entered she knelt and then adyanced to the middle of the room. there she made the same obeisance, and moved straight towards the queen, who was standing close to the foot of her throne. when the duchess had performed a further act of homage, the queen advanced two or three steps, and the duchess fell on her knees; the queen then put her hand on her shoulder, embraced her, kissed her, and commanded her to rise." the duchess then went up to margaret of scotland, wife of the dauphin, afterwards louis xi., "who was four or five feet from the queen," and paid her the same honours as she had done to the queen, although the dauphine appeared to wish to prevent her from absolutely kneeling to her. after this she turned towards the queen of sicily (isabelle de lorraine, wife of rené of anjou, brother-in-law of the king), "who was two or three feet from the dauphine," and merely bowed to her, and the same to another princess, madame de calabre, who was still more distantly connected with the blood royal. then the queen, and after her the dauphine, kissed the three maids of honour of the duchess and the wives of the gentlemen. the duchess did the same to the ladies who accompanied the queen and the dauphine, "but of those of the queen of sicily the duchess kissed none, inasmuch as the queen had not kissed hers. and the duchess would not walk behind the queen, for she said that the duke of burgundy was nearer the crown of france than was the king of sicily, and also that she was daughter of the king of portugal, who was greater than the king of sicily." further on, from the details given of a similar reception, we learn that etiquette was not at that time regulated by the laws of politeness as now understood, inasmuch as the voluntary respect paid by men to the gentle sex was influenced much by social rank. thus, at the time of a visit of louis xi., then dauphin, to the court of brussels, to which place he went to seek refuge against the anger of his father, the duchesses of burgundy, of charolais, and of clèves, his near relatives, exhibited towards him all the tokens of submission and inferiority which he might have received from a vassal. the dauphin, it is true, wished to avoid this homage, and a disussion on the subject of "more than a quarter of an hour ensued;" at last he took the duchess of burgundy by the arm and led her away, in order to cut short the ceremonies "about which madame made so much to do." this, however, did not prevent the princesses, on their withdrawing, from kneeling to the ground in order to show their respect for the son of the king of france. [illustration: fig. .--the entry of louis xi. into paris.--fac-simile of a miniature in the "chroniques" of monstrelet, manuscript of the fifteenth century (imperial library of paris).] we have already seen that the duchess of burgundy, when about to appear before the queen, took her train from her train-bearer in order that she might carry it herself. in this she was only conforming to a general principle, which was, that in the presence of a superior, a person, however high his rank, should not himself receive honours whilst at the same time paying them to another. thus a duke and a duchess amidst their court had all the things which were used at their table covered--hence the modern expression, _mettre le couvert_ (to lay the cloth)--even the wash-hand basin and the _cadenas_, a kind of case in which the cups, knives, and other table articles were kept; but when they were entertaining a king all these marks of superiority were removed, as a matter of etiquette, from the table at which they sat, and were passed on as an act of respect to the sovereign present. the book of dame aliénor, in a series of articles to which we shall merely allude, speaks at great length and enters into detail respecting the interior arrangements of the rooms in which princes and other noble children were born. the formalities gone through on these occasions were as curious as they were complicated; and dame aliénor regretted to see them falling into disuse, "owing to which," she says, "we fear that the possessions of the great houses of the nobility are getting too large, as every one admits, and chicanery or concealment of birth, so as to make away with too many children, is on the increase." mourning is the next subject which we shall notice. the king never wore black for mourning, not even for his father, but scarlet or violet. the queen wore white, and did not leave her apartments for a whole year. hence the name of _château, hôtel,_ or _tour de la reine blanche_, which many of the buildings of the middle ages still bear, from the fact that widowed queens inhabited them during the first year of their widowhood. on occasions of mourning, the various reception rooms of a house were hung with black. in deep mourning, such as that for a husband or a father, a lady wore neither gloves, jewels, nor silk. the head was covered with a low black head-dress, with trailing lappets, called _chaperons, barbettes, couvre-chefs_, and _tourets_. a duchess and the wife of a knight or a banneret, on going into mourning, stayed in their apartments for six weeks; the former, during the whole of this time, when in deep mourning, remained lying down all day on a bed covered with a white sheet; whereas the latter, at the end of nine days, got up, and until the six weeks were over, remained sitting in front of the bed on a black sheet. ladies did not attend the funerals of their husbands, though it was usual for them to be present at those of their fathers and mothers. for an elder brother, they wore the same mourning as for a father, but they did not lie down as above described. [illustration: fig. .--"how the king-at-arms presents the sword to the duke of bourbon."--from a miniature in "tournois du roi rené," manuscript of the fifteenth century (imperial library of paris).] in their everyday intercourse with one another, kings, princes, dukes, and duchesses called one another _monsieur_ and _madame_, adding the christian name or that of the estate. a superior speaking or writing to an inferior, might prefix to his or her title of relationship _beau_ or _belle_; for instance, _mon bel oncle, ma belle cousine_. people in a lower sphere of life, on being introduced to one another, did not say, "monsieur jean, ma belle tante"--"mr. john, allow me to introduce you to my aunt"--but simply, "jean, ma tante." the head of a house had his seat under a canopy or _dosseret_ (fig. ), which he only relinquished to his sovereign, when he had the honour of entertaining him. "such," says aliénor, in conclusion, "are the points of etiquette which are observed in germany, in france, in naples, in italy, and in all other civilised countries and kingdoms." we may here remark, that etiquette, after having originated in france, spread throughout all christian nations, and when it had become naturalised, as it were, amongst the latter, it acquired a settled position, which it retained more firmly than it did in france. in this latter country, it was only from the seventeenth century, and particularly under louis xiv., that court etiquette really became a science, and almost a species of religions observance, whose minutiae were attended to as much as if they were sacramental rites, though they were not unfrequently of the most childish character, and whose pomp and precision often caused the most insufferable annoyance. but notwithstanding the perpetual changes of times and customs, the french nation has always been distinguished for nobility and dignity, tempered with good sense and elegance. if we now direct our attention to the _tiers état_, that class which, to quote a celebrated expression, "was destined to become everything, after having for a long time been looked upon as nothing," we shall notice that there, too, custom and tradition had much to do with ceremonies of all kinds. the presence of the middle classes not only gave, as it were, a stamp of grandeur to fêtes of an aristocratic and religions character, but, in addition, the people themselves had a number of ceremonies of every description, in which etiquette was not one whit less strict than in those of the court. the variety of civic and popular ceremonies is so great, that it would require a large volume, illustrated with numerous engravings, to explain fully their characteristic features. the simple enumeration of the various public fêtes, each of which was necessarily accompanied by a distinct ceremonial, would take up much time were we to attempt to give it even in the shortest manner. [illustration: fig. .--entry of the roi de l'epinette at lille, in the sixteenth century.--from a miniature in a manuscript of the library of rouen.] besides the numerous ceremonies which were purely religious, namely, the procession of the _fête-dieu_, in rogation week, and the fêtes which were both of a superstitions and burlesque character, such as _des fous, de l'ane, des innocents_, and others of the same kind, so much in vogue during the middle ages, and which we shall describe more in detail hereafter, we should like to mention the military or gymnastic fêtes. amongst these were what were called the processions of the _confrères de l'arquebuse_, the _archers_, the _papegaut_, the _roi de l'epinette_, at lille (fig. ), and the _forestier_ at bruges. there were also what may be termed the fêtes peculiar to certain places, such as those of _béhors_, of the _champs galat_ at epinal, of the _laboureurs_ at montélimar, of _guy l'an neuf_ at anjou. also of the fêtes of _may_, of the _sheaf_, of the _spring_, of the _roses_, of the _fires of st. john_, &c. then there were the historical or commemorative fêtes, such as those of the _géant reuss_ at dunkerque, of the _gayant_ at douai, &c.; also of _guet de saint-maxime_ at riez in provence, the processions of _jeanne d'arc_ at orleans, of _jeanne hachette_ at beauvais; and lastly, the numerous fêtes of public corporations, such as the _Écoliers_, the _nations_, the _universités_; also the _lendit_, the _saint-charlemagne_, the _baillée des roses au parlement_; the literary fêtes of the _pays et chambres de rhetorique_ of picardy and flanders, of the _clémence isaure_ at toulouse, and of the _capitole_ at rome, &c.; the fêtes of the _serments, métiers_, and _devoirs_ of the working men's corporation; and lastly, the _fêtes patronales_, called also _assemblées, ducasses, folies, foires, kermesses, pardons_, &c. from this simple enumeration, it can easily be understood what a useless task we should impose upon ourselves were we merely to enter upon so wide and difficult a subject. apart from the infinite variety of details resulting from the local circumstances under which these ceremonies had been instituted, which were everywhere celebrated at fixed periods, a kind of general principle regulated and directed their arrangement. nearly all these fêtes and public rejoicings, which to a certain extent constituted the common basis of popular ceremonial, bore much analogy to one another. there are, however, certain peculiarities less known and more striking than the rest, which deserve to be mentioned, and we shall then conclude this part of our subject. [illustration: fig. .--representation of a ballet before henri iii. and his court, in the gallery of the louvre.--fac-simile of an engraving on copper of the "ballet de la royne," by balthazar de beaujoyeulx (folio, paris, mamert patisson, .)] those rites, ceremonies, and customs, which are the most commonly observed, and which most persistently keep their place amongst us, are far from being of modern origin. thus, the custom of jovially celebrating the commencement of the new year, or of devoting certain particular days to festivity, is still universally followed in every country in the world. the practice of sending presents on _new year's day_ is to be found among civilised nations in the east as well as in our own country. in the middle ages the intimate friends of princes, and especially of the kings of france, received christmas gifts, for which they considered themselves bound to make an ample return. in england these interchanges of generosity also take place on christmas day. in russia, on easter day, the people, on meeting in the street, salute one another by saying "christ is risen." these practices, as well as many others, have no doubt been handed down to us from the early ages of christianity. the same may be said of a vast number of customs of a more or less local character, which have been observed in various countries for centuries. in former times, at ochsenbach, in wurtemberg, during the carnival, women held a feast at which they were waited upon by men, and, after it was over, they formed themselves into a sort of court of plenary indulgence, from which the men were uniformly excluded, and sat in judgment on one another. at ramerupt, a small town in champagne, every year, on the st of may, twenty of the citizens repaired to the adjoining hamlet of st. remy, hunting as they went along. they were called _the fools of rameru_, and it was said that the greatest fool led the band. the inhabitants of st. remy were bound to receive them gratuitously, and to supply them, as well as their horses and dogs, with what they required, to have a mass said for them, to put up with all the absurd vagaries of the captain and his troop, and to supply them with a _fine and handsome horned ram,_ which was led back in triumph. on their return into ramerupt they set up shouts at the door of the curé, the procurator fiscal, and the collector of taxes, and, after the invention of gunpowder, fireworks were let off. they then went to the market-place, where they danced round the ram, which was decorated with ribbons. no doubt this was a relic of the feasts of ancient heathenism. a more curious ceremony still, whose origin, we think, may be traced to the dionysian feasts of heathenism, has continued to be observed to this day at béziers. it bears the names of the _feast of pepézuch_, the _triumph of béziers,_ or the _feast of caritats_ or _charités_. at the bottom of the rue française at béziers, a statue is to be seen which, notwithstanding the mutilations to which it has been subjected, still distinctly bears traces of being an ancient work of the most refined period of art. this statue represents pepézuch, a citizen of béziers, who, according to somewhat questionable tradition, valiantly defended the town against the goths, or, as some say, against the english; its origin, therefore, cannot be later than the thirteenth century. on ascension day, the day of the feast of pepézuch, an immense procession went about the town. three remarkable machines were particularly noticeable; the first was an enormous wooden camel made to walk by mechanism, and to move its limbs and jaws; the second was a galley on wheels fully manned; the third consisted of a cart on which a travelling theatre was erected. the consuls and other civic authorities, the corporations of trades having the pastors walking in front of them, the farriers on horseback, all bearing their respective insignia and banners, formed the procession. a double column, composed of a division of young men and young women holding white hoops decorated with ribbons and many-coloured streamers, was preceded by a young girl crowned with flowers, half veiled, and carrying a basket. this brilliant procession marched to the sound of music, and, at certain distances, the youthful couples of the two sexes halted, in order to perform, with the assistance of their hoops, various figures, which were called the _danse des treilles_. the machines also stopped from time to time at various places. the camel was especially made to enter the church of st. aphrodise, because it was said that the apostle had first come on a camel to preach the gospel in that country, and there to receive the palm of martyrdom. on arriving before the statue of pepézuch the young people decorated it with garlands. when the square of the town was reached, the theatre was stopped like the ancient car of thespis, and the actors treated the people to a few comical drolleries in imitation of aristophanes. from the galley the youths flung sugar-plums and sweetmeats, which the spectators returned in equal profusion. the procession closed with a number of men, crowned with green leaves, carrying on their heads loaves of bread, which, with other provisions contained in the galley, were distributed amongst the poor of the town. in germany and in france it was the custom at the public entries of kings, princes, and persons of rank, to offer them the wines made in the district and commonly sold in the town. at langres, for instance, these wines were put into four pewter vessels called _cimaises_, which are still to be seen. they were called the _lion, monkey, sheep_, and _pig_ wines, symbolical names, which expressed the different degrees or phases of drunkenness which they were supposed to be capable of producing: the lion, courage; the monkey, cunning; the sheep, good temper; the pig, bestiality. we will now conclude by borrowing, from the excellent work of m. alfred michiels on dutch and flemish painting, the abridged description of a procession of corporations of trades, which took place at antwerp in , on the sunday after ascension day. "all the corporations of trades were present, every member being dressed in his best suit." in front of each guild a banner floated; and immediately behind an enormous lighted wax-taper was carried. march music was played on long silver trumpets, flutes, and drums. the goldsmiths, painters, masons, silk embroiderers, sculptors, carpenters, boatmen, fishermen, butchers, curriers, drapers, bakers, tailors, and men of every other trade marched two abreast. then came crossbowmen, arquebusiers, archers, &c., some on foot and some on horseback. after them came the various monastic orders; and then followed a crowd of bourgeois magnificently dressed. a numerous company of widows, dressed in white from head to foot, particularly attracted attention; they constituted a sort of sisterhood, observing certain rules, and gaining their livelihood by various descriptions of manual work. the cathedral canons and the other priests walked in the procession in their gorgeous silk vestments sparkling with gold. twenty persons carried on their shoulders a huge figure of the virgin, with the infant saviour in her arms, splendidly decorated. at the end of the procession were chariots and ships on wheels. there were various groups in the procession representing scenes from the old and new testament, such as the _salutation of the angels_, the _visitation of the magi_, who appeared riding on camels, the _flight into egypt_, and other well-known historical incidents. the last machine represented a dragon being led by st. margaret with a magnificent bridle, and was followed by st. george and several brilliantly attired knights. [illustration: fig. .--sandal and buskin of charlemagne.--from the abbey of st. denis.] costumes. influence of ancient costume.--costume in the fifth century.--hair.--costumes in the time of charlemagne.--origin of modern national dress.--head-dresses and beards: time of st. louis.--progress of dress: trousers, hose, shoes, coats, surcoats, capes.--changes in the fashions of shoes and hoods.--_livrée_,--cloaks and capes.--edicts against extravagant fashions.--female dress: gowns, bonnets, head-dresses, &c.--disappearance of ancient dress.--tight-fitting gowns.--general character of dress under francis i.--uniformity of dress. long garments alone were worn by the ancients, and up to the period when the barbarous tribes of the north made their appearance, or rather, until the invasion of the roman empire by these wandering nations, male and female dress differed but little. the greeks made scarcely any change in their mode of dress for centuries; but the romans, on becoming masters of the world, partially adopted the dress and arms of the people they had conquered, where they considered them an improvement on their own, although the original style of dress was but little altered (figs. and ). roman attire consisted of two garments--the under garment, or _tunic_, and the outer garment, or _cloak_; the latter was known under the various names of _chlamys, toga_, and _pallium_, but, notwithstanding these several appellations, there was scarcely any appreciable distinction between them. the simple tunic with sleeves, which answered to our shirt, was like the modern blouse in shape, and was called by various names. the _chiridota_ was a tunic with long and large sleeves, of asiatic origin; the _manuleata_ was a tunic with long and tight sleeves coming to the wrists; the _talaris_ was a tunic reaching to the feet; the _palmata_ was a state tunic, embroidered with palms, which ornamentation was often found in other parts of dress. the _lacerna_, _loena_, _cucullus_, _chlamys_, _sagum_, _paludamentum_, were upper garments, more or less coarse, either full or scant, and usually short, and were analogous to our cloaks, mantles, &c., and were made both with and without hoods. there were many varieties of the tunic and cloak invented by female ingenuity, as well as of other articles of dress, which formed elegant accessories to the toilet, but there was no essential alteration in the national costume, nor was there any change in the shape of the numerous descriptions of shoes. the barbarian invasions brought about a revolution in the dress as well as in the social state of the people, and it is from the time of these invasions that we may date, properly speaking, the history of modern dress; for the roman costume, which was in use at the same time as that of the franks, the huns, the vandals, the goths, &c., was subjected to various changes down to the ninth century. these modifications increased afterwards to such an extent that, towards the fourteenth century, the original type had altogether disappeared. [illustration: figs. and .--gallo-roman costumes.--from bas-reliefs discovered in paris in underneath the choir of notre-dame.] it was quite natural that men living in a temperate climate, and bearing arms only when in the service of the state, should be satisfied with garments which they could wear without wrapping themselves up too closely. the northern nations, on the contrary, had early learned to protect themselves against the severity of the climate in which they lived. thus the garments known by them as _braies_, and by the parthians as _sarabara_, doubtless gave origin to those which have been respectively called by us _chausses, haut-de-chausses, trousses, grègues, culottes, pantalons_, &c. these wandering people had other reasons for preferring the short and close-fitting garments to those which were long and full, and these were their innate pugnacity, which forced them ever to be under arms, their habit of dwelling in forests and thickets, their love of the chase, and their custom of wearing armour. the ancient greeks and romans always went bareheaded in the towns; but in the country, in order to protect themselves from the direct rays of the sun, they wore hats much resembling our round hats, made of felt, plaited rushes, or straw. other european nations of the same period also went bareheaded, or wore caps made of skins of animals, having no regularity of style, and with the shape of which we are but little acquainted. shoes, and head-dresses of a definite style, belong to a much more modern period, as also do the many varieties of female dress, which have been known at all times and in all countries under the general name of _robes_. the girdle was only used occasionally, and its adoption depended on circumstances; the women used it in the same way as the men, for in those days it was never attached to the dress. the great difference in modern female costume consists in the fact of the girdle being part of the dress, thus giving a long or short waist, according to the requirements of fashion. in the same manner, a complete revolution took place in men's dress according as loose or tight, long or short sleeves were introduced. we shall commence our historical sketch from the fifth century, at which period we can trace the blending of the roman with the barbaric costume--namely, the combination of the long, shapeless garment with that which was worn by the germans, and which was accompanied by tight-fitting braies. thus, in the recumbent statue which adorned the tomb of clovis, in the church of the abbey of st. geneviève, the king is represented as wearing the _tunic_ and the _toga_, but, in addition, gallo-roman civilization had actually given him tight-fitting braies, somewhat similar to what we now call pantaloons. besides this, his tunic is fastened by a belt; which, however, was not a novelty in his time, for the women then wore long dresses, fastened at the waist by a girdle. there is nothing very remarkable about his shoes, since we find that the shoe, or closed sandal, was worn from the remotest periods by nearly all nations (figs. and ). [illustration: fig. .--costume of king clovis (sixth century).--from a statue on his tomb, formerly in the abbey of st. geneviève.] [illustration: fig. .--costume of king childebert (seventh century).--from a statue formerly placed in the refectory of the abbey of st. germain-des-prés.] the cloak claims an equally ancient origin. the principal thing worthy of notice is the amount of ornament with which the franks enriched their girdles and the borders of their tunics and cloaks. this fashion they borrowed from the imperial court, which, having been transferred from rome to constantinople during the third century, was not slow to adopt the luxury of precious stones and other rich decorations commonly in use amongst eastern nations. following the example of horace de vielcastel, the learned author of a history of the costumes of france, we may here state that it is very difficult, if not impossible, to define the exact costume during the time of the early merovingian periods. the first writers who have touched upon this subject have spoken of it very vaguely, or not being contemporaries of the times of which they wrote, could only describe from tradition or hearsay. those monuments in which early costume is supposed to be represented are almost all of later date, when artists, whether sculptors or painters, were not very exact in their delineations of costume, and even seemed to imagine that no other style could have existed before their time than the one with which they were daily familiar. in order to be as accurate as possible, although, after all, we can only speak hypothetically, we cannot do better than call to mind, on the one hand, what tacitus says of the germans, that they "were almost naked, excepting for a short and tight garment round their waists, and a little square cloak which they threw over the right shoulder," and, on the other, to carry ourselves back in imagination to the ancient roman costume. we may notice, moreover, the curious description given of the franks by sidoine apollinaire, who says, "they tied up their flaxen or light-brown hair above their foreheads, into a kind of tuft, and then made it fall behind the head like a horse's tail. the face was clean shaved, with the exception of two long moustaches. they wore cloth garments, fitting tight to the body and limbs, and a broad belt, to which they hung their swords." but this is a sketch made at a time when the frankish race was only known among the gauls through its marauding tribes, whose raids, from time to time, spread terror and dismay throughout the countries which they visited. from the moment when the uncultivated tribes of ancient germany formally took possession of the territory which they had withdrawn from roman rule, they showed themselves desirous of adopting the more gentle manners of the conquered nation. "in imitation of their chief," says m. jules quicherat, the eminent antiquarian, "more than once the franks doffed the war coat and the leather belt, and assumed the toga of roman dignity. more than once their flaxen hair was shown to advantage by flowing over the imperial mantle, and the gold of the knights, the purple of the senators and patricians, the triumphal crowns, the fasces, and, in short, everything which the roman empire invented in order to exhibit its grandeur, assisted in adding to that of our ancestors." [illustration: figs. and .--saints in the costume of the sixth to the eighth centuries.--from miniatures in old manuscripts of the royal library of brussels (designs by count h. de vielcastel).] one great and characteristic difference between the romans and the franks should, however, be specially mentioned; namely, in the fashion of wearing the hair long, a fashion never adopted by the romans, and which, during the whole of the first dynasty, was a distinguishing mark of kings and nobles among the franks. agathias, the greek historian, says, "the hair is never cut from the heads of the frankish kings' sons. from early youth their hair falls gracefully over their shoulders, it is parted on the forehead, and falls equally on both sides; it is with them a matter to which they give special attention." we are told, besides, that they sprinkled it with gold-dust, and plaited it in small bands, which they ornamented with pearls and precious metals. whilst persons of rank were distinguished by their long and flowing hair, the people wore theirs more or less short, according to the degree of freedom which they possessed, and the serfs had their heads completely shaved. it was customary for the noble and free classes to swear by their hair, and it was considered the height of politeness to pull out a hair and present it to a person. frédégaire, the chronicler, relates that clovis thus pulled out a hair in order to do honour to st. germer, bishop of toulouse, and presented it to him; upon this, the courtiers hastened to imitate their sovereign, and the venerable prelate returned home with his hand full of hair, delighted at the flattering reception he had met with at the court of the frankish king. durinig the merovingian period, the greatest insult that could be offered to a freeman was to touch him with a razor or scissors. the degradation of kings and princes was carried out in a public manner by shaving their heads and sending them into a monastery; on their regaining their rights and their authority, their hair was always allowed to grow again. we may also conclude that great importance was attached to the preservation of the hair even under the kings of the second dynasty, for charlemagne, in his capitulaires, orders the hair to be removed as a punishment in certain crimes. the franks, faithful to their ancient custom of wearing the hair long, gradually gave up shaving the face. at first, they only left a small tuft on the chin, but by degrees they allowed this to increase, and in the sixth and seventh centuries freemen adopted the usual form of beard. amongst the clergy, the custom prevailed of shaving the crown of the head, in the same way as that adopted by certain monastic orders in the present day. priests for a long time wore beards, but ceased to do so on their becoming fashionable amongst the laity (figs. , ). painters and sculptors therefore commit a serious error in representing the prelates and monks of those times with large beards. as far as the monumental relics of those remote times allow us to judge, the dress as worn by clovis underwent but trifing modifications during the first dvnasty; but during the reigns of pepin and charlemagne considerable changes were effected, which resulted from the intercourse, either of a friendly or hostile nature, between the franks and the southern nations. about this time, silk stuffs were introduced into the kingdom, and the upper classes, in order to distinguish themselves from the lower, had their garments trimmed round with costly furs (see chapter on commerce). [illustration: fig. and .--costume of the prelates from the eighth to the tenth centuries--after miniatures in the "missal of st. gregory," in the national library of paris.] we have before stated (see chapter on private life) that charlemagne, who always was very simple in his tastes, strenuously set his face against these novel introductions of luxury, which he looked upon as tending to do harm. "of what use are these cloaks?" he said; "in bed they cannot cover us, on horseback they can neither protect us from the rain nor the wind, and when we are sitting they can neither preserve our legs from the cold nor the damp." he himself generally wore a large tunic made of otters' skins. on one occasion his courtiers went out hunting with him, clothed in splendid garments of southern fashion, which became much torn by the briars, and begrimed with the blood of the animals they had killed. "oh, ye foolish men!" he said to them the next day as he showed them his own tunic, which a servant had just returned to him in perfect condition, after having simply dried it before the fire and rubbed it with his hands. "whose garments are the more valuable and the more useful? mine, for which i have only paid a sou (about twenty-two francs of present money), or yours, which have cost so much?" from that time, whenever this great king entered on a campaign, the officers of his household, even the most rich and powerful, did not dare to show themselves in any clothes but those made of leather, wool, or cloth; for had they, on such occasions, made their appearance dressed in silk and ornaments, he would have sharply reproved them and have treated them as cowards, or as effeminate, and consequently unfit for the work in which he was about to engage. nevertheless, this monarch, who so severely proscribed luxury in daily life, made the most magnificent display on the occasions of political or religious festivals, when the imperial dignity with which he was invested required to be set forth by pompous ceremonial and richness of attire. during the reign of the other carlovingian kings, in the midst of political troubles, of internal wars, and of social disturbances, they had neither time nor inclination for inventing new fashions. monuments of the latter part of the ninth century prove, indeed, that the national dress had hardly undergone any change since the time of charlemagne, and that the influence of roman tradition, especially on festive occasions, was still felt in the dress of the nobles (figs. to ). in a miniature of the large ms. bible given by the canons of saint-martin of tours in to charles the bald (national library of paris), we find the king sitting on his throne surrounded by the dignitaries of his court, and by soldiers all dressed after the roman fashion. the monarch wears a cloak which seems to be made of cloth of gold, and is attached to the shoulder by a strap or ribbon sliding through a clasp; this cloak is embroidered in red, on a gold ground; the tunic is of reddish brown, and the shoes are light red, worked with gold thread. in the same manuscript there is another painting, representing four women listening to the discourse of a prophet. from this we discover that the female costume of the time consisted of two tunics, the under one being longer but less capacious than the other, the sleeves of the former coming down tight to the wrists, and being plaited in many folds, whilst those of the latter open out, and only reach to the elbow. the lower part, the neck, and the borders of the sleeves are trimmed with ornamented bands, the waist is encircled by a girdle just above the hips, and a long veil, finely worked, and fastened on the head, covers the shoulders and hangs down to the feet, completely hiding the hair, so that long plaits falling in front were evidently not then in fashion. the under dress of these four women--who all wear black shoes, which were probably made of morocco leather--are of various colours, whereas the gowns or outer tunics are white. [illustration: fig. .--costume of a scholar of the carlovingian period (st. matthew writing his gospel under the inspiration of christ).--from a miniature in a manuscript of the ninth century, in the burgundian library, brussels (drawn by count h. de vielcastel).] notwithstanding that under the carlovingian dynasty it was always considered a shame and a dishonour to have the head shaved, it must not be supposed that the upper classes continued to wear the long merovingian style of hair. after the reign of charlemagne, it was the fashion to shave the hair from above the forehead, the parting being thus widened, and the hair was so arranged that it should not fall lower than the middle of the neck. under charles the bald, whose surname proves that he was not partial to long hair, this custom fell into disuse or was abandoned, and men had the greater part of their heads shaved, and only kept a sort of cap of hair growing on the top of the head. it is at this period that we first find the _cowl_ worn. this kind of common head-dress, made from the furs of animals or from woollen stuffs, continued to be worn for many centuries, and indeed almost to the present day. it was originally only a kind of cap, light and very small; but it gradually became extended in size, and successively covered the ears, the neck, and lastly even the shoulders. no great change was made in the dress of the two sexes during the tenth century. "nothing was more simple than the head-dress of women," says m. jules quicherat; "nothing was less studied than their mode of wearing their hair; nothing was more simple, and yet finer, than their linen. the elegant appearance of their garments recalls that of the greek and roman, women. their dresses were at times so tight as to display all the elegance of their form, whilst at others they were made so high as completely to cover the neck; the latter were called _cottes-hardies_. the _cotte-hardie_, which has at all times been part of the dress of french women, and which was frequently worn also by men, was a long tunic reaching to the heels, fastened in at the waist and closed at the wrists. queens, princesses, and ladies of the nobility wore in addition a long cloak lined with ermine, or a tunic with or without sleeves; often, too, their dress consisted of two tunics, and of a veil or drapery, which was thrown over the head and fell down before and behind, thus entirely surrounding the neck." [illustration: fig. .--costume of a scholar. fig. .--costume of a bishop or abbot. fac-similes of miniatures in a manuscript of the ninth century ("biblia sacra"), in the royal library of brussels.] we cannot find that any very decided change was made in dress before the end of the eleventh century. the ordinary dress made of thick cloths and of coarse woollen stuffs was very strong and durable, and not easily spoiled; and it was usual, as we still find in some provinces which adhere to old customs, for clothes, especially those worn on festive occasions and at ceremonials, to be handed down as heirlooms from father to son, to the third or fourth generation. the normans, who came from scandinavia towards the end of the tenth century, a.d. , with their short clothes and coats of mail, at first adopted the dress of the french, and continued to do so in all its various changes. in the following century, having found the saxons and britons in england clad in the garb of their ancestors, slightly modified by the roman style of apparel, they began to make great changes in their manner of dressing themselves. they more and more discarded roman fashions, and assumed similar costumes to those made in france at the same period. [illustration: fig. .--costume of charles the simple (tenth century).--from a miniature in the "rois de france," by du tillet, manuscript of the sixteenth century (imperial library of paris).] before proceeding further in our history of mediæval dress, we must forestall a remark which will not fail to be made by the reader, and this is, that we seem to occupy ourselves exclusively with the dress of kings, queens, and other people of note. but we must reply, that though we are able to form tolerably accurate notions relative to the dress of the upper classes during these remote periods, we do not possess any reliable information relative to that of the lower orders, and that the written documents, as well as the sculptures and paintings, are almost useless on this point. nevertheless, we may suppose that the dress of the men in the lowest ranks of society has always been short and tight, consisting of _braies_, or tight drawers, mostly made of leather, of tight tunics, of _sayons_ or doublets, and of capes or cloaks of coarse brown woollen. the tunic was confined at the waist by a belt, to which the knife, the purse, and sometimes the working tools were suspended. the head-dress of the people was generally a simple cap made of thick, coarse woollen cloth or felt, and often of sheep's skin. during the twelfth century, a person's rank or social position was determined by the head-dress. the cap was made of velvet for persons of rank, and of common cloth for the poor. the _cornette_, which was always an appendage to the cap, was made of cloth, with which the cap might be fastened or adjusted on the head. the _mortier_, or round cap, dates from the earliest centuries, and was altered both in shape and material according to the various changes of fashion; but lawyers of high position continued to wear it almost in its original shape, and it became like a professional badge for judges and advocates. in the miniatures of that time we find charles the good, count of flanders, who died in , represented with a cap with a point at the top, to which a long streamer is attached, and a peak turned up in front. a cap very similar, but without the streamer, and with the point turned towards the left, is to be seen in a portrait of geoffroy le bel, comte de maine, in . about the same period, agnès de baudement is represented with a sort of cap made of linen or stuff, with lappets hanging down over the shoulders; she is dressed in a robe fastened round the waist, and having long bands attached to the sleeves near the wrists. queen ingeburge, second wife of philip augustus, also wore the tight gown, fastened at the collar by a round buckle, and two bands of stuff forming a kind of necklace; she also used the long cloak, and the closed shoes, which had then begun to be made pointed. robert, comte de dreux, who lived at the same period, is also dressed almost precisely like the queen, notwithstanding the difference of sex and rank; his robe, however, only descends to the instep, and his belt has no hangings in front. the queen is represented with her hair long and flowing, but the count has his cut short. [illustration: fig. .--costume of king louis le jeune--miniature of the "rois de france," by du tillet (sixteenth century), in the national library of paris.] [illustration: fig. .--royal costume.--from a miniature in a manuscript of the twelfth century, in the burgundian library, brussels.] women, in addition to their head-dress, often wore a broad band, which was tied under the chin, and gave the appearance of a kind of frame for the face. both sexes wore coloured bands on their shoes, which were tied round the ankles like those of sandals, and showed the shape of the foot. the beard, which was worn in full at the beginning of the twelfth century, was by degrees modified both as to shape and length. at first it was cut in a point, and only covered the end of the chin, but the next fashion was to wear it so as to join the moustaches. generally, under louis le jeune (fig. ), moustaches went out of fashion. we next find beards worn only by country people, who, according to contemporary historians, desired to preserve a "remembrance of their participation in the crusades." at the end of this century, all chins were shaved. the crusades also gave rise to the general use of the purse, which was suspended to the belt by a cord of silk or cotton, and sometimes by a metal chain. at the time of the holy war, it had become an emblem characteristic of pilgrims, who, before starting for palestine, received from the hands of the priest the cross, the pilgrim's staff, and the purse. we now come to the time of louis ix. (figs. to ), of that good king who, according to the testimony of his historians, generally dressed with the greatest simplicity, but who, notwithstanding his usual modesty and economy, did not hesitate on great occasions to submit to the pomp required by the regal position which he held. "sometimes," says the sire de joinville, "he went into his garden dressed in a camel's-hair coat, a surcoat of linsey-woolsey without sleeves, a black silk cloak without a hood, and a hat trimmed with peacocks' feathers. at other times he was dressed in a coat of blue silk, a surcoat and mantle of scarlet satin, and a cotton cap." the surcoat (_sur-cotte_) was at first a garment worn only by females, but it was soon adopted by both sexes: it was originally a large wrapper with sleeves, and was thrown over the upper part of the robe (_cotte_), hence its name, _sur-cotte._ very soon it was made without sleeves--doubtless, as m. quicherat remarks, that the under garment, which was made of more costly material, might be seen; and then, with the same object, and in order that the due motion of the limbs might not be interfered with, the surcoat was raised higher above the hips, and the arm-holes were made very large. [illustration: fig. .--costume of a princess dressed in a cloak lined with fur.--from a miniature of the thirteenth century.] [illustration: fig. .--costume of william malgeneste, the king's huntsman, as represented on his tomb, formerly in the abbey of long-pont.] at the consecration of louis ix., in , the nobles wore the cap (_mortier_) trimmed with fur; the bishops wore the cope and the mitre, and carried the crosier. louis ix., at the age of thirteen, is represented, in a picture executed in (sainte-chapelle, paris), with his hair short, and wearing a red velvet cap, a tunic, and over this a cloak open at the chest, having long sleeves, which are slit up for the arms to go through; this cloak, or surcoat, is trimmed with ermine in front, and has the appearance of what we should now call a fur shawl. the young king has long hose, and shoes similar in shape to high slippers. in the same painting queen margaret, his wife, wears a gown with tight bodice opened out on the hips, and having long and narrow sleeves; she also has a cloak embroidered with fleurs-de-lis, the long sleeves of which are slit up and bordered with ermine; a kind of hood, much larger than her head, and over this a veil, which passes under the chin without touching the face; the shoes are long, and seem to enclose the feet very tightly. [illustration: fig. .--costumes of the thirteenth century: tristan and the beautiful yseult.--from a miniature in the romance of "tristan," manuscript of the fourteenth century (imperial library of paris).] from this period gowns with tight bodices were generally adopted; the women wore over them a tight jacket, reaching to a little below the hips, often trimmed with fur when the gown was richly ornamented, and itself richly ornamented when the gown was plain. they also began to plait the hair, which fell down by the side of the face to the neck, and they profusely decorated it with pearls or gold or silver ornaments. jeanne, queen of navarre, wife of philippe le bel, is represented with a pointed cap, on the turned-up borders of which the hair clusters in thick curls on each side of the face; on the chest is a frill turned down in two points; the gown, fastened in front by a row of buttons, has long and tight sleeves, with a small slit at the wrists closed by a button; lastly, the queen wears, over all, a sort of second robe in the shape of a cloak, the sleeves of which are widely slit in the middle. at the end of the thirteenth century luxury was at its height at the court of france: gold and silver, pearls and precious stones were lavished on dress. at the marriage of philip iii., son of st. louis, the gentlemen were dressed in scarlet; the ladies in cloth of gold, embroidered and trimmed with gold and silver lace. massive belts of gold were also worn, and chaplets sparkling with the same costly metal. moreover, this magnificence and display (see chapter on private life) was not confined to the court, for we find that it extended to the bourgeois class, since philippe le bel, by his edict of , endeavoured to limit this extravagance, which in the eyes of the world had an especial tendency to obliterate, or at least to conceal, all distinctions of birth, rank, and condition. wealth strove hard at that time to be the sole standard of dress. as we approach the fourteenth century--an epoch of the middle ages at which, after many changes of fashion, and many struggles against the ancient roman and german traditions, modern national costume seems at last to have assumed a settled and normal character--we think it right to recapitulate somewhat, with a view to set forth the nature of the various elements which were at work from time to time in forming the fashions in dress. in order to give more weight to our remarks, we will extract, almost word for word, a few pages from the learned and excellent work which m. jules quicherat has published on this subject. "towards the year ," he says, "the dress of a man--not of a man as the word was then used, which meant _serf_, but of one to whom the exercise of human prerogatives was permitted, that is to say, of an ecclesiastic, a bourgeois, or a noble--was composed of six indispensable portions: the _braies_, or breeches, the stockings, the shoes, the coat, the surcoat, or _cotte-hardie,_ and the _chaperon_, or head-dress. to these articles those who wished to dress more elegantly added, on the body, a shirt; on the shoulders, a mantle; and on the head, a hat, or _fronteau_. [illustration: fig. .--costumes of the common people in the fourteenth century: italian gardener and woodman.--from two engravings in the bonnart collection.] "the _braies_, or _brayes_, were a kind of drawers, generally knitted, sometimes made of woollen stuff or silk, and sometimes even of undressed leather. .... our ancestors derived this part of their dress from the ancient gauls; only the gallic braies came down to the ankle, whereas those of the thirteenth century only reached to the calf. they were fastened above the hips by means of a belt called the _braier_. "by _chausses_ was meant what we now call long stockings or hose. the stockings were of the same colour and material as the braies, and were kept up by the lower part of the braies being pulled over them, and tied with a string. "the shoes were made of various kinds of leather, the quality of which depended on the way in which they were tanned, and were either of common leather, or of leather which was similar to that we know as morocco, and was called _cordouan_ or _cordua_ (hence the derivation of the word _cordouannier_, which has now become _cordonnier_). shoes were generally made pointed; this fashion of the _poulaines_, or polish points, was followed throughout the whole of europe for nearly three hundred years, and, when first introduced, the church was so scandalized by it that it was almost placed in the catalogue of heresies. subsequently, the taste respecting the exaggerated length of the points was somewhat modified, but it had become so inveterate that the tendency for pointed shoes returning to their former absurd extremes was constantly showing itself. the pointed shoes became gradually longer during the struggles which were carried on in the reign of philippe le bel between church and state. "besides the shoes, there were also the _estiviaux_, thus named from. _estiva_ (summer thing), because, being generally made of velvet, brocade, or other costly material, they could only be worn in dry weather. "the coat (_cotte_) corresponded with the tunic of the ancients, it was a blouse with tight sleeves. these sleeves were the only part of it which were exposed, the rest being completely covered by the surcoats, or _cotte-hardie,_ a name the origin of which is obscure. in shape the surcoat somewhat resembled a sack, in which, at a later period, large slits were made in the arms, as well as over the hips and on the chest, through which appeared the rich furs and satins with which it was lined.... the ordinary material of the surcoat for the rich was cloth, either scarlet, blue, or reddish brown, or two or more of these colours mixed together; and for the poor, linsey-woolsey or fustian. the nobles, princes, or barons, when holding a court, wore surcoats of a colour to match their arms, which were embroidered upon them, but the lesser nobles who frequented the houses of the great spoke of themselves as in the robes of such and such a noble, because he whose patronage they courted was obliged to provide them with surcoats and mantles. these were of their patron's favourite colour, and were called the livery (_livrée_), on account of their distribution (_livraison_), which took place twice a year. the word has remained in use ever since, but with a different signification; it is, however, so nearly akin to the original meaning that its affinity is evident." [illustration: fig. .--costume of english servants in the fourteenth century.--from manuscripts in the british museum.] [illustration: fig. .--costume of philip the good, with hood and "cockade."--from a miniature in a manuscript of the period.] an interesting anecdote relative to this custom is to be found in the chronicles of matthew paris. when st. louis, to the dismay of all his vassals, and of his inferior servants, had decided to take up the cross, he succeeded in associating the nobles of his court with him in his vow by a kind of pious fraud. having had a certain number of mantles prepared for christmas-day, he had a small white cross embroidered on each above the right shoulder, and ordered them to be distributed among the nobles on the morning of the feast when they were about to go to mass, which was celebrated some time before sunrise. each courtier received the mantle given by the king at the door of his room, and put it on in the dark without noticing the white cross; but, when the day broke, to his great surprise, he saw the emblem worn by his neighbour, without knowing that he himself wore it also. "they were surprised and amused," says the english historian, "at finding that the king had thus piously entrapped them.... as it would have been unbecoming, shameful, and even unworthy of them to have removed these crosses, they laughed heartily, and said that the good king, on starting as a pilgrim-hunter, had found a new method of catching men." "the chaperon," adds m. quicherat, "was the national head-dress of the ancient french, as the _cucullus_, which was its model, was that of the gauls. we can imagine its appearance by its resemblance to the domino now worn at masked balls. the shape was much varied during the reign of philippe le bel, either by the diminution of the cape or by the lengthening of the hood, which was always sufficiently long to fall on the shoulders. in the first of these changes, the chaperon no longer being tied round the neck, required to be held on the head by something more solid. for this reason it was set on a pad or roll, which changed it into a regular cap. the material was so stitched as to make it take certain folds, which were arranged as puffs, as ruffs, or in the shape of a cock's comb; this last fashion, called _cockade_, was especially in vogue (fig. )--hence the origin of the french epithet _coquard_, which would be now expressed by the word _dandy_. "hats were of various shapes. they were made of different kinds of felt, or of otter or goat's skin, or of wool or cotton. the expression _chapeau de fleurs_ (hat of flowers), which continually occurs in ancient works, did not mean any form of hat, but simply a coronet of forget-me-nots or roses, which was an indispensable part of dress for balls or festivities down to the reign of philippe de valois ( ). frontlets (_fronteaux_), a species of fillet made of silk, covered with gold and precious stones, superseded the _chapeau de fleurs_, inasmuch as they had the advantage of not fading. they also possessed the merit of being much more costly, and were thus the means of establishing in a still more marked manner distinctions in the social positions of the wearers. [illustration: fig. .--costumes of a rich bourgeoise, of a peasant-woman, and of a lady of the nobility, of the fourteenth century.--from various painted windows in the churches of moulins (bourbonnais).] [illustration: saint catherine surrounded by the doctors of alexandria. a miniature from the _breviary_ of the cardinal grimani, attributed to memling. bibl. of saint-marc, venice. (from a copy belonging to m. ambroise firmin-didot.)] "there were two kinds of mantles; one was open in front, and fell over the back, and a strap which crossed the chest held it fixed on the shoulders; the other, enveloping the body like a bell, was slit up on the right side, and was thrown back over the left arm; it was made with a fur collar, cut in the shape of a tippet. this last has been handed down to us, and is worn by our judges under the name of _toge_ and _épitoge_. "it is a very common mistake to suppose that the shirt is an article of dress of modern invention; on the contrary, it is one of great antiquity, and its coming into general use is the only thing new about it. "lastly, we have to mention the _chape_, which was always regarded as a necessary article of dress. the _chape_ was the only protection against bad weather at a period when umbrellas and covered carriages were unknown. it was sometimes called _chape de pluie_, on account of the use to which it was applied, and it consisted of a large cape with sleeves, and was completely waterproof. it was borne behind a master by his servant, who, on account of this service was called a _porte-chape._ it is needless to say that the common people carried it themselves, either slung over their backs, or folded under the arm." if we now turn to female attire, we shall find represented in it all the component parts of male dress, and almost all of them under the same names. it must be remarked, however, that the women's coats and surcoats often trailed on the ground; that the hat--which was generally called a _couvre-chef,_ and consisted of a frame of wirework covered over with stuff which was embroidered or trimmed with lace--was not of a conical shape; and, lastly, that the _chaperon_, which was always made with a tippet, or _chausse_, never turned over so as to form a cap. we may add that the use of the couvre-chef did not continue beyond the middle of the fourteenth century, at which time women adopted the custom of wearing any kind of head-dress they chose, the hair being kept back by a silken net, or _crépine_, attached either to a frontlet, or to a metal fillet, or confined by a veil of very light material, called a _mollequin_ (fig. ). with the aid of our learned guide we have now reached a period (end of the thirteenth century) well adapted for this general study of the dress of our ancestors, inasmuch as soon afterwards men's dress at least, and especially that of young courtiers, became most ridiculously and even indecently exaggerated. to such an extent was this the case, that serious calamities having befallen the french nation about this time, and its fashions having exercised a considerable influence over the whole continent of europe, contemporary historians do not hesitate to regard these public misfortunes as a providential chastisement inflicted on france for its disgraceful extravagance in dress. [illustration: fig. .--costumes of a young nobleman and of a bourgeois in the fourteenth century.--from a painted window in the church of saint-ouen at rouen, and from a window at moulins (bourbonnais).] "we must believe that god has permitted this as a just judgment on us for our sins," say the monks who edited the "grande chronique de st. denis," in , at the time of the unfortunate battle of cressy, "although it does not belong to us to judge. but what we see we testify to; for pride was very great in france, and especially amongst the nobles and others, that is to say, pride of nobility, and covetousness. there was also much impropriety in dress, and this extended throughout the whole of france. some had their clothes so short and so tight that it required the help of two persons to dress and undress them, and whilst they were being undressed they appeared as if they were being skinned. others wore dresses plaited over their loins like women; some had chaperons cut out in points all round; some had tippets of one cloth, others of another; and some had their head-dresses and sleeves reaching to the ground, looking more like mountebanks than anything else. considering all this, it is not surprising if god employed the king of england as a scourge to correct the excesses of the french people." and this is not the only testimony to the ridiculous and extravagant tastes of this unfortunate period. one writer speaks with indignation of the _goats' beards_ (with two points), which seemed to put the last finishing touch of ridicule on the already grotesque appearance of even the most serious people of that period. another exclaims against the extravagant luxury of jewels, of gold and silver, and against the wearing of feathers, which latter then appeared for the first time as accessories to both male and female attire. some censure, and not without reason, the absurd fashion of converting the ancient leather girdle, meant to support the waist, into a kind of heavy padded band, studded with gilded ornaments and precious stones, and apparently invented expressly to encumber the person wearing it. other contemporary writers, and amongst these pope urban v. and king charles v. (fig. ), inveigh against the _poulaines_, which had more than ever come into favour, and which were only considered correct in fashion when they were made as a kind of appendix to the foot, measuring at least double its length, and ornamented in the most fantastical manner. the pope anathematized this deformity as "a mockery of god and the holy church," and the king forbad craftsmen to make them, and his subjects to wear them. all this is as nothing in comparison with the profuse extravagance displayed in furs, which was most outrageous and ruinous, and of which we could not form an idea were it not for the items in certain royal documents, from which we gather that, in order to trim two complete suits for king john, no fewer than six hundred and seventy martens' skins were used. it is also stated that the duke of berry, the youngest son of that monarch, purchased nearly ten thousand of these same skins from a distant country in the north, in order to trim only five mantles and as many surcoats. we read also that a robe made for the duke of orleans, grandson of the same king, required two thousand seven hundred and ninety ermines' skins. it is unnecessary to state, that in consequence of this large consumption, skins could only be purchased at the most extravagant prices; for example, fifty skins cost about one hundred francs (or about six thousand of present currency), showing to what an enormous expense those persons were put who desired to keep pace with the luxury of the times (fig. ). [illustration: fig. .--costume of charles v., king of france.--from a statue formerly in the church of the célestins, paris.] [illustration: fig. .--costume of jeanne de bourbon, wife of charles v.--from a statue formerly in the church of the célestins, paris.] we have already seen that charles v. used his influence, which was unfortunately very limited, in trying to restrain the extravagance of fashion. this monarch did more than decree laws against indelicate or unseemly and ridiculous dress; he himself never wore anything but the long and ample costume, which was most becoming, and which had been adopted in the preceding century. his example, it is true, was little followed, but it nevertheless had this happy resuit, that the advocates of short and tight dresses, as if suddenly seized with instinctive modesty, adopted an upper garment, the object of which seemed to be to conceal the absurd fashions which they had not the courage to rid themselves of. this heavy and ungraceful tunic, called a _housse_, consisted of two broad bands of a more or less costly material, which, starting from the neck, fell behind and before, thus almost entirely concealing the front and back of the person, and only allowing the under garments to be seen through the slits which naturally opened on each side of it. a fact worthy of remark is, that whilst male attire, through a depravity of taste, had extended to the utmost limit of extravagance, women's dress, on the contrary, owing to a strenuous effort towards a dignified and elegant simplicity, became of such a character that it combined all the most approved fashions of female costume which had been in use in former periods. the statue of queen jeanne de bourbon, wife of charles v., formerly placed with that of her husband in the church of the célestins at paris, gives the most faithful representation of this charming costume, to which our artists continually have recourse when they wish to depict any poetical scenes of the french middle ages (fig. ). [illustration: fig. .--costumes of bourgeois or merchant, of a nobleman, and of a lady of the court or rich bourgeoise, with the head-dress (_escoffion_) of the fifteenth century.--from a painted window of the period, at moulins (bourbonnais), and from a painting on wood of the same period, in the musee de cluny.] this costume, without positively differing in style from that of the thirteenth century, inasmuch as it was composed of similar elements, was nevertheless to be distinguished by a degree of elegance which hitherto had been unknown. the coat, or under garment, which formerly only showed itself through awkwardly-contrived openings, now displayed the harmonious outlines of the figure to advantage, thanks to the large openings in the overcoat. the surcoat, kept back on the shoulders by two narrow bands, became a sort of wide and trailing skirt, which majestically draped the lower part of the body; and, lastly, the external corset was invented, which was a kind of short mantle, falling down before and behind without concealing any of the fine outlines of the bust. this new article of apparel, which was kept in its place in the middle of the chest by a steel busk encased in some rich lace-work, was generally made of fur in winter and of silk in summer. if we consult the numerous miniatures in manuscripts of this period, in which the gracefulness of the costume was heightened by the colours employed, we shall understand what variety and what richness of effect could be displayed without departing from the most rigid simplicity. one word more in reference to female head-dress. the fashion of wearing false hair continued in great favour during the middle of the fourteenth century, and it gave rise to all sorts of ingenious combinations; which, however, always admitted of the hair being parted from the forehead to the back of the head in two equal masses, and of being plaited or waved over the ears. nets were again adopted, and head-dresses which, whilst permitting a display of masses of false hair, hid the horsehair or padded puffs. and, lastly, the _escoffion_ appeared--a heavy roll, which, being placed on a cap also padded, produced the most clumsy, outrageons, and ungraceful shapes (fig. ). at the beginning of the fifteenth century men's dress was still very short. it consisted of a kind of tight waistcoat, fastened by tags, and of very close-fitting breeches, which displayed the outlines of the figure. in order to appear wide at the shoulders artificial pads were worn, called _mahoitres_. the hair was allowed to fall on the forehead in locks, which covered the eyebrows and eyes. the sleeves were slashed, the shoes armed with long metal points, and the conical hat, with turned-up rim, was ornamented with gold chains and various jewels. the ladies, during the reign of charles vi., still wore long trains to their dresses, which they carried tucked up under their arms, unless they had pages or waiting-maids (see chapter on ceremonials). the tendency, however, was to shorten these inconvenient trains, as well as the long hanging and embroidered or fringed sleeves. on the other hand, ladies' dresses on becoming shorter were trimmed in the most costly manner. their head-dresses consisted of very large rolls, surmounted by a high conical bonnet called a _hennin_, the introduction of which into france was attributed to queen isabel of bavaria, wife of charles vi. it was at this period that they began to uncover the neck and to wear necklaces. [illustration: fig. .--italian costumes of the fifteenth century: notary and sbirro.--from two engravings in the bonnart collection.] [illustration: fig. .--costumes of a mechanic's wife and a rich bourgeois in the latter part of the fifteenth century.--from windows in the cathedral of moulins (bourbonnais).] under louis xi. this costume, already followed and adopted by the greatest slaves of fashion, became more general. "in this year ( )," says the chronicler monstrelet, "ladies ceased to wear trains, substituting for them trimmings of grebe, of martens' fur, of velvet, and of other materials, of about eighteen inches in width; some wore on the top of their heads rolls nearly two feet high, shaped like a round cap, which closed in above. others wore them lower, with veils hanging from the top, and reaching down to the feet. others wore unusually wide silk bands, with very elegant buckles equally wide, and magnificent gold necklaces of various patterns. "about this time, too, men took to wearing shorter clothes than ever, having them made to fit tightly to the body, after the manner of dressing monkeys, which was very shameful and immodest; and the sleeves of their coats and doublets were slit open so as to show their fine white shirts. they wore their hair so long that it concealed their face and even their eyes, and on their heads they wore cloth caps nearly a foot or more high. they also carried, according to fancy, very splendid gold chains. knights and squires, and even the varlets, wore silk or velvet doublets; and almost every one, especially at court, wore poulaines nine inches or more in length. they also wore under their doublets large pads (_mahoitres_), in order to appear as if they had broad shoulders." under charles viii. the mantle, trimmed with fur, was open in front, its false sleeves being slit up above in order to allow the arms of the under coat to pass through. the cap was turned up; the breeches or long hose were made tight-fitting. the shoes with poulaines were superseded by a kind of large padded shoe of black leather, round or square at the toes, and gored over the foot with coloured material, a fashion imported from italy, and which was as much exaggerated in france as the poulaine had formerly been. the women continued to wear conical caps (_hennins_) of great height, covered with immense veils; their gowns were made with tight-fitting bodies, which thus displayed the outlines of the figure (figs. and ). under louis xii., queen anne invented a low head-dress--or rather it was invented for her--consisting of strips of velvet or of black or violet silk over other bands of white linen, which encircled the face and fell down over the back and shoulders; the large sleeves of the dresses had a kind of turned-over borders, with trimmings of enormous width. men adopted short tunics, plaited and tight at the waist. the upper part of the garments of both men and women was cut in the form of a square over the chest and shoulders, as most figures are represented in the pictures of raphael and contemporary painters. [illustration: italian lacework, in gold thread. the cypher and arms of henry iii. ( th century.)] [illustration: fig. .--costume of charlotte of savoy, second wife of louis xi.--from a picture of the period formerly in the castle of bourbon-l'archambault, m. de quedeville's collection, in paris. the arms of louis xi. and charlotte are painted behind the picture.] [illustration: fig. .--costume of mary of burgundy, daughter of charles the bold, wife of maximilian of austria (end of the fifteenth century). from an old engraving in the collection of the imperial library, paris.] the introduction of italian fashions, which in reality did not much differ from those which had been already adopted, but which exhibited better taste and a greater amount of elegance, dates from the famous expedition of charles viii. into italy (figs. and ). full and gathered or puffed sleeves, which gave considerable gracefulness to the upper part of the body, succeeded to the _mahoitres_, which had been discarded since the time of louis xi. a short and ornamental mantle, a broad-brimmed hat covered with feathers, and trunk hose, the ample dimensions of which earned for them the name of _trousses_, formed the male attire at the end of the fifteenth century. women wore the bodies of their dresses closely fitting to the figure, embroidered, trimmed with lace, and covered with gilt ornaments; the sleeves were very large and open, and for the most part they still adhered to the heavy and ungraceful head-dress of queen anne of brittany. the principal characteristic of female dress at the time was its fulness; men's, on the contrary, with the exception of the mantle or the upper garment, was usually tight and very scanty. we find that a distinct separation between ancient and modern dress took place as early as the sixteenth century; in fact, our present fashions may be said to have taken their origin from about that time. it was during this century that men adopted clothes closely fitting to the body; overcoats with tight sleeves, felt hats with more or less wide brims, and closed shoes and boots. the women also wore their dresses closely fitting to the figure, with tight sleeves, low-crowned hats, and richly-trimmed petticoats. these garments, which differ altogether from those of antiquity, constitute, as it were, the common type from which have since arisen the endless varieties of male and female dress; and there is no doubt that fashion will thus be continually changing backwards and forwards from time to time, sometimes returning to its original model, and sometimes departing from it. [illustration: figs. and .--costumes of young nobles of the court of charles viii., before and after the expedition into italy.--from miniatures in two manuscripts of the period in the national library of paris.] during the sixteenth century, ladies wore the skirts of their dresses, which were tight at the waist and open in front, very wide, displaying the lower part of a very rich under petticoat, which reached to the ground, completely concealing the feet. this, like the sleeves with puffs, which fell in circles to the wrists, was altogether an italian fashion. frequently the hair was turned over in rolls, and adorned with precious stones, and was surmounted by a small cap, coquettishly placed either on one side or on the top of the head, and ornamented with gold chains, jewels, and feathers. the body of the dress was always long, and pointed in front. men wore their coats cut somewhat after the same shape: their trunk hose were tight, but round the waist they were puffed out. they wore a cloak, which only reached as far as the hips, and was always much ornamented; they carried a smooth or ribbed cap on one side of the head, and a small upright collar adorned the coat. this collar was replaced, after the first half of the sixteenth century, by the high, starched ruff, which was kept out by wires; ladies wore it still larger, when it had somewhat the appearance of an open fan at the back of the neck. if we take a retrospective glance at the numerous changes of costume which we have endeavoured to describe in this hurried sketch, we shall find that amongst european nations, during the middle ages, there was but one common standard of fashion, which varied from time to time according to the particular custom of each country, and according to the peculiarities of each race. in italy, for instance, dress always maintained a certain character of grandeur, ever recalling the fact that the influence of antiquity was not quite lost. in germany and switzerland, garments had generally a heavy and massive appearance; in holland, still more so (figs. and ). england uniformly studied a kind of instinctive elegance and propriety. it is a curious fact that spain invariably partook of the heaviness peculiar to germany, either because the gothic element still prevailed there, or that the walloon fashions had a special attraction to her owing to associations and general usage. france was then, as it is now, fickle and capricious, fantastical and wavering, but not from indifference, but because she was always ready to borrow from every quarter anything which pleased her. she, however, never failed to put her own stamp on whatever she adopted, thus making any fashion essentially french, even though she had only just borrowed it from spain, england, germany, or italy. in all these countries we have seen, and still see, entire provinces adhering to some ancient costume, causing them to differ altogether in character from the rest of the nation. this is simply owing to the fact that the fashions have become obsolete in the neighbouring places, for every local costume faithfully and rigorously preserved by any community at a distance from the centre of political action or government, must have been originally brought there by the nobles of the country. thus the head-dress of anne of brittany is still that of the peasant-women of penhoét and of labrevack, and the _hennin_ of isabel of bavaria is still the head-dress of normandy. [illustration: fig. .--costumes of a nobleman or a very rich bourgeois, of a bourgeois or merchant, and of a noble lady or rich bourgeoise, of the time of louis xii.--from miniatures in manuscripts of the period, in the imperial library of paris.] [illustration: fig. .--costume of a rich bourgeoise, and of a noble, or person of distinction, of the time of francis i.--from a window in the church of st. ouen at rouen, by gaignières (national library of paris).] although the subject has reached the limits we have by the very nature of this work assigned to it, we think it well to overstep them somewhat, in order briefly to indicate the last connecting link between modern fashions and those of former periods. [illustration: figs. and .--costumes of the ladies and damsels of the court of catherine de medicis.--after cesare vecellio.] under francis i., the costumes adopted from italy remained almost stationary (fig. ). under henri ii. (figs. and ), and especially after the death of that prince, the taste for frivolities made immense progress, and the style of dress in ordinary use seemed day by day to lose the few traces of dignity which it had previously possessed. catherine de medicis had introduced into france the fashion of ruffs, and at the beginning of the fourteenth century, marie de medicis that of small collars. dresses tight at the waist began to be made very full round the hips, by means of large padded rolls, and these were still more enlarged, under the name of _vertugadins_ (corrupted from _vertu-gardiens),_ by a monstrous arrangement of padded whalebone and steel, which subsequently became the ridiculous _paniers_, which were worn almost down to the commencement of the present century; and the fashion seems likely to come into vogue again. [illustration: fig. .--costume of a gentleman of the french court, of the end of the sixteenth century.--fac-simile of a miniature in the "livre de poésies," manuscript dedicated to henry iv.] under the last of the valois, men's dress was short, the jacket was pointed and trimmed round with small peaks, the velvet cap was trimmed with aigrettes; the beard was pointed, a pearl hung from the left ear, and a small cloak or mantle was carried on the shoulder, which only reached to the waist. the use of gloves made of scented leather became universal. ladies wore their dresses long, very full, and very costly, little or no change being made in these respects during the reign of henry iv. at this period, the men's high hose were made longer and fuller, especially in spain and the low countries, and the fashion of large soft boots, made of doeskin or of black morocco, became universal, on account of their being so comfortable. we may remark that the costume of the bourgeois was for a long time almost unchanged, even in the towns. never having adopted either the tight-fitting hose or the balloon trousers, they wore an easy jerkin, a large cloak, and a felt hat, which the english made conical and with a broad brim. towards the beginning of the seventeenth century, the high hose which were worn by the northern nations, profusely trimmed, was transformed into the _culotte_, which was full and open at the knees. a division was thus suddenly made between the lower and the upper part of the hose, as if the garment which covered the lower limbs had been cut in two, and garters were then necessarily invented. the felt hat became over almost the whole of europe a cap, taking the exact form of the head, and having a wide, flat brim turned up on one side. high heels were added to boots and shoes, which up to that time had been flat and with single soles.... two centuries later, a terrible social agitation took place all over europe, after which male attire became mean, ungraceful, plain and more paltry than ever; whereas female dress, the fashions of which were perpetually changing from day to day, became graceful and elegant, though too often approaching to the extravagant and absurd. [illustration: figs. and .--costumes of the german bourgeoisie in the middle of the sixteenth century.--drawings attributed to holbein.] transcriber's notes: words in italics in the original are surrounded by _underscores_. a row of asterisks represents a thought break. a complete list of corrections as well as other notes follows the text. anecdotes of the manners and customs of london during the eighteenth century; including the charities, depravities, dresses, and amusements, of the citizens of london, during that period; with a review of the state of society in . to which is added, a sketch of the domestic architecture, and of the various improvements in the metropolis. illustrated by forty-five engravings. by james peller malcolm, f. s. a. author of "londinium redivivum," &c. &c. the second edition. volume i. _london_: printed for longman, hurst, rees, and orme. paternoster row. . john nichols and son, printers, red lion passage, fleet street, london. _contents_ of the first volume. preface page v chap. i. state of parish children--anecdotes of various descriptions of charity exercised in london between the years and chap. ii. anecdotes of depravity, from to chap. iii. manners and customs of the inhabitants of london, from to chap. iv. anecdotes of eccentricity _plates_ to the first volume. foundling hospital page bancroft's almshouse the small-pox hospital preface. i beg leave to return my sincere thanks to the community, for the flattering reception with which this undertaking has been honoured:--a more convincing proof of that approbation which every author most ardently desires seldom occurs, and still more seldom is expressed in so short a period as between the dates of the first appearance of the book and the present preface (march and may .) it had been my intention, from the moment i thought of tracing the habits of the residents of our metropolis, to give a history of them from the earliest ages to the close of the last century: those early ages should certainly have been noticed first; but the length of time required for collecting materials, and the heavy expences attending printing, made it imperiously necessary that i should offer to the publick the least difficult portion of my labours, in order to ascertain whether i might proceed in safety with the remainder. the result has surpassed my hopes, and roused me to redoubled exertion in preparing for the press a volume including anecdotes of manners and customs from the roman invasion to , in which will be found most of the _apparent omissions_ discoverable in this; but i shall ever reserve a right to myself of saying nothing on a subject of which i have an imperfect knowledge, through impediments not always to be explained without a charge of prolixity. this circumstance, and the impossibility of knowing how the work would be received, compelled me to give a retrospective view, at the commencement of some chapters, that should contribute to render them satisfactory, provided the early portion never appeared. the readers of the quarto edition of the history of the eighteenth century will therefore have the goodness to excuse the retrospective sketches in it; and those of the present will perceive the sketches alluded to are omitted, in order to confine each event to its proper æra in the work when completed. it will be observed that i address myself in the above sentence solely to the liberal reader for information and amusement, and by no means to the invisible censors of the age, who kindly and charitably supply the place of inquisitors without receiving their appointment either from the church, the state, or the publick. _a person_ who honours this publication with his notice in the eclectic review remarks, "_we_ should have thought the progress of learning, and the novelties in the trade of books, during the last century, well intitled to some regard; and, as mr. m. has 'been indebted to his worthy friend mr. nichols for the inspection of his matchless collection of periodical publications, from which great part of his materials have been selected,' we wonder not a little how the very institution of periodical publications could escape his notice." the history of literature did not escape my recollection as connected with that of the manners of the metropolis; but _you_, gentlemen reviewers, _being literary men_, ought to have been aware that the very worthy friend you have mentioned had nearly printed his _literary anecdotes of the same century_, which would have appeared at the moment my anecdotes were published, had not one general conflagration destroyed the whole of the impression, and a considerable number of my own books, and compelled the benevolent sufferer to recommence his labours. "perhaps," continue the reviewers, "mr. m. did not know that the voracity of the publick for scandal demanded _four_ editions, comprising , copies of the town and country magazine, on its first appearance." i did know the prevailing voracity for scandal, and that it was _partly_ supplied by _reviews_. i do not mean by any particular work so termed, but by individual articles in many publications of that description. knowing the mischievous consequences to authors, of perversion, misquotation, and misrepresentation, before the _nature_ of reviews was fully understood, the enlightened and excellent dr. blair, whose sermons do his head and heart so much honour, wrote thus to mr. bruce, the celebrated abyssinian traveller: "i do not get the monthly review, and never saw that article in it which has been so injurious to you. indeed, i seldom see any reviews, unless what is called the analytical one, which a friend of mine takes, and commonly sends to me; and that review appears abundantly favourable to you. but i entirely agree with dr. douglas, that the reviews are beneath your notice. they are always guided by the interest of some booksellers; and it is not on their opinions that the reputation of books and authors will depend. i am so much of this mind, that though i lately published a volume of sermons, i never gave myself the smallest trouble to enquire what the several reviewers said of it, or whether they took any notice of it at all[viii:a]." it is well known that dr. blair had established a reputation which it was impossible to undermine by secret attacks: hence he naturally held those who aimed them at others in sovereign contempt. there are authors, however, who are endeavouring by every laudable exertion in their power to establish a similar reputation; and would frequently accomplish it, did not the secret envious reviewer annihilate their hopes by exciting terrors in their minds, and by this means destroy all their vigour, substituting hesitation for energy, and trepidation for modest confidence in their abilities. worthy and enviable pursuit, to wound the feelings of a man we never saw, and rob him not only of fame, but of that remuneration which the risk of his property in some degree demands from the publick he endeavours to please! when an author so far forgets his moral obligations as to publish to the world sentiments or narratives dangerous to the beautiful order and simplicity of social life, it becomes the province of a reviewer to expose his intentions, and lash him into a sense of his duty; nor should arrogance and presumptuous folly escape the reprehension of a _gentleman_ from the same source: but, when a work appears which demonstrates great labour and diligence in the compilation or invention, and contains nothing offensive to honour and morality, envy and malice, and the restless spirit termed _ill-nature_, should really be subdued in the breast of the censor, so far as to permit him not to _expose himself_, and the review _his individual article_ disgraces. besides, both the writer and publisher should reflect, that when _they_ have almost forgotten the article which leaves a deep and a malignant sting, the party suffering from it lingers in hopeless melancholy; and in more than one instance even life is said to have been wasted in the decay produced by a malicious review. i should here apologize to the reader for having omitted the portrait of an incompetent and splenetic reviewer in the first edition of this work; but, as it is never too late to amend, and i cannot violate my own sense of the injustice of giving information in a new edition withheld in the first, by noticing so common a character, i shall here proceed to shew him in his true colours, as part of the grand aggregate i have attempted to describe; merely observing, as a further excuse, in the words of the critical review on these anecdotes: i am "more pleased with faithful delineations of general nature, than with the account of any anomalous productions." unfortunately for the majority of authors, and most fortunately for the reviewer, it too often happens that second editions of works are not called for; through this circumstance _reviews_ of _reviewers_ are rarely to be met with, and pamphlets refuting their strictures seldom answer any purpose, owing to their confined sale. happily for myself, an opportunity offers which must have full effect, as the reader of these pages will judge for himself on their merits, and between the assertions of certain reviewers, and what i have to offer in opposition to them. these self-important _unknown_ persons will find me combating on the side of injured authors, not only on my own account, but on that of other individuals severely and unjustly condemned. i certainly despise them with dr. blair; that i do not fear them in my literary pursuits, and have no cause for so doing, my own words, and the approbation of the publick, sufficiently demonstrate. i shall be highly gratified if the following investigation leads one man to judge for himself hereafter, when he finds reviews of a similar description connected with others of liberality and moderation. we may venture to attribute the introduction of modern reviews to edward cave eventually; for, although the gentleman's magazine never assumed that exclusive character, it certainly suggested the hint of issuing _monthly_ anonymous strictures on new publications[x:a]. all have since professed to commence their career with good humour, talents, liberality, candour, justice, mercy, and, in short, with the exercise of every virtue. had they _all_ strictly adhered to their professions, literature would indeed have flourished under the moderate corrections of criticism, which is necessary to raise a perfect stock for the great demand of england; but, instead of those tempered reproofs, we are often surprised by floods or torrents of censure, which beat to the earth, and completely destroy, every thing within their scope. it is the authors of those torrents that i combat: the impartial and candid reviewer i honour and admire, in proportion to the dangers and difficulties of his office. _the critical review for may _--versus "_anecdotes of the manners and customs of london_." the writer of this article says: "the following sketch of the contents of this performance will convince the reader that he may expect much information and amusement in the perusal." this is extremely well for a preliminary assertion; and yet we shall find him contradicting it almost from page to , where the review terminates. the contents are then given, and the reviewer continues: "such is the bill of fare which mr. m. has prepared: in which, perhaps, the generality will find many _agreeable dishes_ and _savoury ingredients_. it is, however, rather a _confused medley_, than a well assorted or _nicely selected_ entertainment." here we have a simile warm from the crown and anchor or london tavern. "mr. m. has very industriously perused the public papers, periodical works, &c. of the last century; and from these he has _culled as much matter_ as, with his _own head and tail_ pieces of remark, explanation, and _connection_, compose an ample quarto of pages."--"in _traversing_ the pages of this _bulky volume_, we have sometimes been instructed, and often amused; but on the whole we have experienced sensations of tediousness and languor, which the author will perhaps impute to our _squeamishness of appetite_ or apathy of temperament; but which _we_ are more willing to ascribe to the prolixity of the work. when the reader has taken the trouble _to go through the book_, _we_ shall leave him to determine whether _the critic_ be insensible, or the author occasionally dull." this sneering _critic_ (for he at length appears in the singular case, speaking grammatically) affects to be unwilling to accuse me of practising the art of book-making, and of inserting every piece of information which came in my way relative to the manners of london; but really "_we_ would willingly have dispensed with many of his details, in which there is nothing either to edify or amuse." the single critic, or congregated critics, which the reader pleases, next introduces the following quotation: "then, says mr. malcolm, (meaning before the invasion of cæsar) the hardy native stood erect in the full dignity and grace of nature, perfect from the hands of the creator, and tinted with those pure colours which vary with the internal feelings. cæsar, doubtless, found the males muscular and full of energy, the females graceful in their forms, and both wild and unrestrained in his estimation of manners; though probably they were such as we now admire in the savage, sincerity unpolished and kindness roughly demonstrated." i shall make no comments on this passage, which the reader of the review is requested by the _critic_ to take as a "specimen of that _affected_, _stiff_, and _verbose style_ in which mr. m. _sometimes_ thinks proper to indulge, and on which the critic or critics would fail in _their_ duty to the publick if _they_ did not fix the seal of _their_ utter reprobation."--"perspicuity and ease are among those constituent principles of good writing, which we should be unwilling to sacrifice for any of the _starched refinements_ and _elaborate perplexities_ of modern composition."--"when mr. m. _tells us_ that cæsar found the aborigines of britain 'tinted with those pure colours which vary with the internal feelings,' he seems to have forgotten that cæsar himself _tells us_ (b. g. lib. v.) that he found these 'hardy natives' _bedizened_ with a coat of paint. and _we leave_ our modern fine ladies to inform mr. m. whether this artificial discoloration were likely to _serve as a mirror_ for the varying emotions of the breast." it may be presumed that he who undertakes to criticise the language of another should himself be perfect in the arrangement of his ideas, and of words to express them, and capable of composing similies that shall bear some reference to the subject illustrated. whether the author of the review in question is qualified for the employment he has undertaken, will appear in the elegant extracts which follow: "agreeable dishes," "savoury ingredients," "confused medley," "nicely selected," "culled as much matter," "his own head and tail pieces," "traversing the pages," "bulky volume," "squeamishness of appetite," "to go through the book," "affected, stiff," "starched refinements," "elaborate perplexities," "bedizened," and "_discoloration_ were likely to serve as a _mirror_." surely, if he asserts my style to be affected, stiff, and starched, i may venture to pronounce his extremely vulgar, incorrect, and confused. i had not forgotten that cæsar found the natives of england stained with the juices of plants, and partially covered with coloured earths; still i maintain that nature had perfected her work, and given the fluids that due circulation, improved by exercise and temperance, which renders the complexion florid and beautiful. extraneous matter at times defaced her operations; but luxury, disease, and enervation, had not dried the channels of the blood of the aborigines, as it has those of the fine lady i am referred to, whose _discoloration_ is to serve as a _mirror_ to show my own folly. "in p. . mr. m. _tells us_ what we suppose he discovered _after many nights of sleepless meditation_, that, 'there are in every human circle persons whose patriotism may be lulled; [the words between _lulled_ and _and_, "such may be taught by invaders to execrate their chiefs or governors" are shamefully omitted by the reviewer as well as the beginning of the first sentence] and glittering ornaments of dress, and indolence, soon produce unfavourable comparison between the former and a naked limb, and the exertions of what is termed savage and the more refined conceptions of quiet life.' _without staying_ to make any remarks on the phraseology or the structure of this sentence, we shall proceed to shew mr. m. as a collector of curious anecdotes and amusing details, in which he appears to much more advantage than as a philosopher or a rhetorician." is it possible that an author can feel himself injured by such absurd and ridiculous spleen as those four lines and an half produced in the breast of this miserable reviewer? contemptible and futile as my information is considered by the writer, he has deigned to compress nearly the whole matter of my anecdotes of charity for his own purposes; and, although he denies me any share of _his charity_, he is delighted with the instances of it _i have introduced to his notice_ of that of others. for once he agrees with me in opinion as to the general improvement of manners; and occupies from the d to the th page in contradicting himself in almost all the positions he has endeavoured to establish as to my incompetency for the present undertaking. "mr. m's th chapter is intituled 'eccentricity proved to be sometimes injurious, though often inoffensive.' we could willingly have spared mr. malcolm the necessity of exhibiting any proofs on this occasion; most of the anecdotes _which he has scraped_ together are destitute of interest." the writer has been much my friend in this instance, though certainly without intending it; for he could not have more effectually convinced the publick of his incapability. can he suppose it possible that, in describing the manners of the metropolis, the eccentricities of its inhabitants should be omitted? it is as impossible as that any person should agree with him in all his absurdities. as to exciting of interest, the very nature of eccentricity is such, that pity alone must predominate in the breast of the considerate reader. the sneer that my specimens of eccentricity will make the anecdotes "a favourite _of the_ circulating libraries," came from the same hand that could write "_a bushel_ of coals" instead of _a chaldron_ of coals allowed by james austin to boil his pudding fourteen days. the _loyal_ reader shall comment for himself on the following extract from this admirable review: "in , a laudable attempt was made to suppress the excessive use of gin; and the resentment of the populace became so very turbulent, that they even presumed to exclaim in the streets, 'no gin, no king.' _whatever respect we may have for the exclamation, 'no bishop, no king,' we do not think_ that _either monarchy or any other government needs_ the _support_ of this, pernicious distillation." this is what the reviewer 'tells us,' and _i_ suppose the discovery was made "after many nights of sleepless meditation;" indeed the same degree of intense thought seems to have produced another sapient piece of philosophy or rhetoric, which is offered to our consideration in p. of the review. "when a bull _gives permission_ to a greater brute than himself to bait him to death with dogs, we will allow that something like a sanction _is given_ to the sport." surely these specimens of deep cogitation are almost equal to my "_novel_ observation that 'partnerships too frequently produce dissention and a struggle for individual power';" and the reviewer's own words, "mr. m. might have _added_ to the spirit and interest of his work by _omitting_ such superfluous details." these superfluous details, good reader, relate to the disputes between messrs. harris and colman in , which, having excited great interest amongst those who frequented the theatre, could not, and ought not to be omitted to gratify an _invisible individual_, who is perhaps too much of a philosopher to be pleased with dramatic entertainments. the spleen of the reviewer, having increased by indulgence, attains its _acmè_ of virulence at the close of the article: "in his th chapter mr. m. professes to exhibit a sketch of the present state of society in london; in which we do not meet with much _sagacity of remark_, or _novelty of information_. take an instance of his _common-place details_: 'the reader must recollect, that when a family is without visitors, it is governed by greater regularity. many merchants and rich tradesmen pass much of their leisure time at coffee-houses; and dinners are commonly given at those places'." now, what but blind and indiscriminating acrimony could dictate the above remarks? what sagacity was required to narrate facts as clear as noon-day? or, what _novelty of information_ could arise from describing the domestic occurrences of families in general? the reviewer dared not say i have falsified a single article; perhaps he would rather i had drawn a _fancied picture_ of present customs, that he might have added a charge of deeper dye against me. the review of my performance, which has enabled him to earn a dinner, could not have been written if _similar common-place details had not appeared during the last century_. good sir, because _you know_ how we _all live at present_, are we not to inform those who succeed us how _we have lived_? taking the _conclusion_ of sentences as a specimen of the _whole_, is peculiar to a certain description of reviewers. now, by referring to the page whence the extract is taken, it will be found i had been describing a family as entertaining their visitors, and naturally concluded by saying, "when alone, it was governed with greater regularity." for once we have an attempt at wit, which originates from my having asserted that the dissipation common _in high life_, and late hours, rendered eating of _breakfast_ a "_languid operation_."--"we do not believe that there is, _in general_, so much _languor_ in _this_ operation of eating, as mr. m. seems to suppose. but, perhaps, mr. m. will think that we judge of the morning appetite of others by our own; and that we reviewers have appetites like wolves, and are ready to _devour mountains of toast_, when they come in our way."--_mountains of toast_--admirable metaphor! surely this cannot be called affected, stiff, starched, verbose, or elevated language; it is familiar enough, and will be understood perfectly by the cook or house-maid, when the article which contains it reaches the kitchen as waste paper. "the author ends his _smooth-papered volume_ (_a fault_ i must transfer to the paper-maker, as i have not had it hot-pressed) with the following sentence: 'such are the follies of many; but, thanks to heaven! there are numbers of our nobility and gentry who live and act for the general benefit of mankind. and now, _vale londinium!_'--we will add, _vale_ mr. m. we have been indebted to you for some information and amusement; but should have been more gratified with the perusal of your work, if you had exhibited more judgment in the selection of the materials, and had not swelled the bulk by a number of futile, irrelevant, and incongruous details." the readers of the first edition of this work, amounting perhaps to some thousands, have completely and decidedly contradicted the objections brought by the reviewer in _general_ terms, and supported by cavils upon four or six sentences selected from pages. the readers of the present are offered all those cavils for their consideration, and will _judge for themselves_ of their justice. * * * * * with due allowance for a small degree of asperity, for which the writer can have no good excuse, the anti-jacobin review of december last contains some argumentative strictures on the arrangement of this work, as it appeared in the first edition. when a book is offered to the world, it cannot be expected that every fact in it, and the method, should meet the approbation of all descriptions of persons; as taste and opinions are acknowledged to be as various as the features of the face. that the publick at large have not disapproved of the progressive chronological manner adopted, i have the most positive evidence by the rapid sale of the work; and this i shall retain. however, as objections have been raised by individuals who act as public censors, i have adopted their suggestions in part, and given the anecdotes a more connected form, by removing the breaks between each. but, while i submit to their decision in the above instance, i beg leave to deny that _any_ of the materials are too trivial for insertion. i was to give the habits and manners of the londoners as i found them. if their conduct was even infantile in some cases, the fault lay with them, not with me; if part of their conduct resembles that of all the rest of the world, it is still a part of their conduct, and requires notice as much as their peculiarities; and it is mere wanton contradiction to assert the contrary. the reviewer next discovers, that periodical publications are not the best authorities for ascertaining the manners of the times. this i utterly deny; and i challenge the reviewer to point out the cases where falsehood and inaccuracy are discoverable, in the use i have made of them. in truth, they are almost the only vehicles by which we obtain any thing like a correct account of the foibles of the day--nay, any account at all. what does he say to the spectator, the tatler, the world, the rambler, the guardian, the observator, the female tatler? were they not periodical publications? do they abound in "_shameful lies_" (the gross words of the reviewer)? or are they not considered as faithful sketches of those customs which escape the notice of the historian? every newspaper may contain misrepresentations and falsehoods; but those are generally confined to politics and artifices of trade: when any indifferent circumstance is to be related, there is no inducement to _wilful_ falsehood. besides, our ingenuous reviewer must have allowed me to have had sufficient discernment to reject articles of that description.--were i to act with the same candour towards him as he has evinced towards "newspapers, intelligencers, and magazines" (observe, _reviews_ are omitted) in his rejection of them as authorities, i should charge him with declaring a deliberate falsehood in informing his readers that my excellent friend mr. nichols had lost his matchless collection of periodical publications in the late burning of his warehouse and printing-office. a statement of this nature need not rest upon "_we believe_:" london is extensive, but surely within the compass of a reviewer's walk, who dogmatically substitutes _we believe_ for the simple question at mr. nichols's door, "have you lost your collection?" i shall now follow this candid gentleman's example--he damns in the theatrical term the whole of my book, by endeavouring to mislead the publick into a belief that it contains not a word of truth; and then a high-sounding apology in these words: "that mr. m. would _intentionally_ pervert a single fact, or make one statement that he _believed_ to be erroneous, we certainly have not the most distant idea of intimating; he possesses too high a sense of honour, too great a feeling of manly integrity, even to permit the supposition." pray, good sir, who would willingly consider me rather as a fool than as a liar, apply your own words to yourself; and let me add, i am convinced you _believed_ mr. nichols's collection to have been consumed by fire, though it certainly was not. further let me repeat your words, "thus have i done, and _i challenge_ contradiction:--mine are the _best authorities_."--yes, they are the best authorities; such as the journals of the house of commons, the gentleman's magazine, official publications of charities, and various institutions, under the signatures of their secretaries, reports of coroners on inquests, the statements of g. a. wachsel, sir john fielding's official reports, mr. howard's letters, acts of parliament, dr. hawes's information to the author, advertisements from different speculators, the official statements of the society for reformation of manners, report of the committee of magistrates , letter from secretary of state , proclamations by the king and the lord mayor, original letters of richard smith , the police act, evidence before the committee of the house of commons , address from justice fielding , narrative relating to the cock-lane ghost, evidence of physicians relating to mad-houses , examinations before committee of commons respecting robberies , sir j. fielding's address to grand jury , official statement of society for suppressing vice; quacks' own advertisements; addison, from the lover; london gazette, ceremonial for receiving george i.; royal proclamation, , confirming the existence of scandalous clubs, mackay's journey through england , switterda's advertisements, act for suppressing private balls, report of committee of common council , charge by sir j. fielding respecting profane swearing , original letters between the bishop of bristol and his parishioners , grosley's tour to london, advertisements by c. weedon, esq. life of sacheverell, henley's advertisements, presentment of the grand jury relating to him , lady e. hamilton's advertisements, lord viscount vane's advertisement, original advertisements of lotteries and benefit societies, queen anne's communication to the lord mayor respecting riots , abstract of wild's indictment , official parish letter of christ-church surrey , minutes of coroners inquest , wilkes's letter , trial of donald m'lane, king's proclamation , that of harley, mayor, same period, trial of j. grainger, &c. , petition of w. allen , presentment of grand jury , that of middlesex ; london gazette, reformation of the stage; the presentment of middlesex grand jury , advertisements of figg and others, masters of defence, notice from wilks, &c. and cibber's answer , notice from the proprietor of vauxhall-gardens, proposal from same , life of handel, original letter from mrs. clive, statements by mr. garrick and mr. beard, letters of messrs. harris and colman, macklin's narrative, plan of the regatta , foote's letter to the lord chamberlain, advertisements of clothing lost, peruke-makers' petition , sir william davenant, original docquet to mr. cole for globe lamps, act for improving london , notice from commissioners for paving,--and, lastly, periodical publications. my words in the introduction are: "it gives me pleasure to acknowledge i have been indebted to my worthy friend mr. nichols for the inspection of his matchless collection of periodical publications, _from which great part of my materials_ have been selected." whether they were the sole sources of my anecdotes let the above list of authorities testify, which the reader may verify by turning over the following pages. if the reviewer _has read_ this work, i charge him on his conscience to say why he asserts my information depends wholly upon lying newspapers, &c. where, _alas!_ has the "full spirit of moral honesty" evaporated which he so calmly professes? two sentences more, and i have done with the anti-jacobin. i am treated with the utmost superciliousness for attempting to prove that many male and female figures are to be found in london equal to the celebrated statues of the venus de medicis and the apollo belvidere, which were alluded to by the words _grecian apollos_ and _venuses_.--what, am i to be told that my powers of discrimination "are far _above par_," because i assert the british human form is equal to the conceptions of the antient grecians? this "grey-beard," as he calls himself, must have studied the arts in a mercantile way indeed, or he would have pronounced my powers were _below par_ in saying they were only _equal_, as, upon a moment's consideration, i am convinced there are hundreds of persons in london whose forms in general, and the swells of their muscles, as far surpass the statues in question, excellent as they may be, as the works of god ever did and ever must exceed those of man. indeed, the best artists invariably acknowledge with humility and regret how very inferior their works are to the common productions of nature. then how extremely ridiculous are these words of the reviewer: "that the metropolis can furnish many beautiful figures both male and female, from the _millions_ of its inhabitants, we readily allow; but that perfection of form and _character_ which _characterises_ an apollo and a venus, has _but few_, very _few resemblances_." i am almost tempted to say the latter part of this paragraph is impious: the most complicated, wonderful, and beautiful specimen of the powers of the _creator_, exceeded by the works of the _created_; nay, so far exceeded as to leave but few even of resemblances!!! has the reviewer read that indefatigable and accurate author keysler? hear what he says of the venus de medicis, after paying it the just tribute due to superior excellence: "the head is by most connoisseurs considered as too small in proportion to the rest of the body, particularly the hips; some censure the nose as too large; and possibly the furrow along the vertebræ of the back is something too deep, especially as the object represents a soft plump female; and both the bend of the arms and inclination of the body jointly conspire to lessen the depth of this furrow, if not totally to obliterate it. the fingers are remarkably long, and all, except the little finger of the left hand, destitute of joints; but this should not affect the reputation of the artist, as it is sufficiently evident, that the _hands_ had not received his last touches." it has often been asserted that the english jacobin cordially hates his own countrymen, and endeavours to exalt the perfections of their enemies: the above fact seems to prove decidedly that an _anti-jacobin_ treats an author with contempt, because he wished to say the truth of the reviewer's countrymen. if the reverse was the case, and the british form was less perfect, i ought to have escaped censure merely for my _amor patriæ_. it was to deprecate such criticism as the preceding, which i expected, through the experience of others, that i prescribed an antidote in the preface of the first edition. and now i shall leave these two wise reviewers "_to chew the cud in their own way_," according to the elegant expression of the anti-jacobin. the eclectic review, in noticing this work, has confined itself to such observations as were highly proper, supposing the volume intended to form a _complete_ history of the century. i have already explained the reasons why i offered it to the publick as it appeared, and shall not therefore repeat them; but i cannot avoid adding, i feel myself indebted for the offered suggestions, though they were anticipated. when gentlemanly reproof is tempered with praise, he must be an arrogant and presumptuous writer indeed who feels offended at the recital of his real or supposed errors. i shall give some commendatory extracts, and the reviewer will permit me to refute one of his suppositions. "we certainly approve mr. m's choice of a subject; and highly should we have congratulated ourselves if collectors of equal diligence had performed the same task for the th and many preceding centuries which he has undertaken for the last."--"mr. m. with equal modesty and prudence, intitles his volume _anecdotes_."--"it presents some of the principal features of the times, and will afford amusement and knowledge to the present generation, and still more to future generations, who cannot by recollection compare the portrait with the original."--"whoever desires to form a just estimate of the manners of the english in the th century will derive great assistance from mr. m's collections." after what has been said, i am sorry to be obliged to censure any part of this review of my anecdotes. speaking of my prints of dress, the reviewer says, i should have consulted several works which he has named, particularly hogarth's labours, or family pictures, and adds: "we are very much afraid mr. m's prints on this subject have been made up _memoriter_." the above sentence must be considered by every impartial person as perfectly unjustifiable, and insulting to my moral character. this instance sufficiently proves that i am personally unknown to the reviewer, or he would also have known deceit and baseness form no part of my composition. it now remains for me to give my authorities for the sketches of dress, which are full as authentic as any the reviewer has mentioned; and to his surprize and regret he will learn that _the very hogarth he blames me for neglecting is one of them_. dress - , is from a print published immediately after the coronation of william and mary representing that event, offered to the world by one of the heralds at arms. dress is from a wooden cut in a newspaper exhibiting the young beau of the day. dress is three figures grouped from hogarth's plates. dress is the old maid in covent-garden from hogarth, the position of the figure altered. dress from hogarth, the attitudes different. dress , attitudes altered from a large print of vauxhall-gardens. dress from rooker's view of covent-garden church. dress from a mezzotinto, figures altered. dress the hint taken from miss burney's evelina. dress from a large aquatinta of the interior of the pantheon, oxford-street, figures newly grouped. the two last the _reviewer knows to be correct_.--in concluding this subject, i cannot do better than quote the words of the reviewer of my work in the european magazine for june . speaking of the anecdotes of dress, he could not omit noticing "a chapter" that "has in a manner fixed these fleeting meteors of public absurdity, by a series of prints, that at once serve as embellishments and elucidations of the work."--"these prints we really wish our readers could see, because they are, in many instances, extremely curious, and also because, on subjects of this nature, an artist with a few strokes of his pencil can convey ideas in a much stronger manner to the mind than an author in pages of laboured description." * * * * * as i have candidly given the reader _all_ that the preceding reviewers have said _against me_, he will indulge me in adding a _few words_ from those who _praise me_. were all reviews formed on the liberal plan which distinguishes the article concerning my anecdotes in the european magazine, every author must be gratified with the prospect of having his work fairly analysed, and receiving explanatory notices for a future edition, and rejoice that reviews are published. in proceeding through the contents of my book this worthy critic has given explanations of such passages as his knowledge of london enabled him to illustrate, which i have inserted in the form of notes in their proper places in the present edition; and in this pursuit he has, to his great credit, never once indulged in captious exceptions against particular sentences, or spoken of every thing omitted and nothing inserted. the conclusion is extremely grateful to my feelings: "when we consider the labour which mr. m. must have undergone in collecting such a variety of materials from such a number of volumes, pamphlets, and papers, as he must have perused (some of which are no longer accessible but to the curious) we are of opinion that he deserves great praise for his industry. as a body of information respecting the morals, the manners, the foibles, and follies of our ancestors, we think this work very useful; as a book of reference, still more so. as an amusement, therefore, to the idle, and an assistant to the industrious readers, we unequivocally recommend it to the publick." it may, perhaps, be said this praise is venal; on the contrary, i most solemnly declare i know neither my bitter censors nor my panegyrists. as some other reviews have praised the work, i shall refer the reader to the gentleman's magazine, the annual review, &c. j. p. malcolm. _may ._ footnotes: [viii:a] murray's life of bruce, p. . [x:a] the previous attempts of individuals, which never exceeded a few volumes, i do not consider as cases in point. anecdotes of the manners and customs of london during the eighteenth century. chap. i. state of parish children--anecdotes of various descriptions of charity exercised in london, between the years and . there is something in the composition of the british atmosphere highly congenial to human and animal life: the clouded air and frequent humidity, and consequent coolness, prevent the violent perspirations the natives of finer climates experience; hence the fluids remain in full effect, and expand every part of the frame to its full proportion. the habits and manner of living at various periods of our history had great influence on the exteriors of our ancestors: when men were forced into armies to repel invaders from saxony and denmark, the whole race of englishmen became either hardened into almost supernatural exertion and strength, or were victims to those chronic diseases which deform the body and destroy the regularity of features; then the youth of each sex experienced privations incident to war, and the whole population must have suffered in the gracefulness of their persons. it required many years of quiet to restore the disorders of the body politic; and those of individuals recovered in the same slow proportion. in the reign of edward iii. englishmen had again expanded into full military vigour; they marched with the front of hercules against their enemies, and they maintained their strength and courage beyond the period of our henry v. after that reign, i should imagine, their stature diminished, and their countenances assumed a less pleasing form; and we find them bending under the most profligate despotism through the reigns of henry vii. and viii. elizabeth, possessed of equal power, but inclined to use it for the benefit of her subjects, as far as the confined ideas of the time permitted, raised the people nearer to manhood; and her young soldiers waited for the enemy on their coasts, not yet as _volunteers_, but as defenders of their metropolis for a virtuous arbitrary monarch. the sentiments imbibed during this auspicious period, contributed to render domestic life more cheerful than it had hitherto been; the person was enlarged, and became more graceful; discontent fled from the features; and the londoner, still nearer perfection, at last accomplished those two revolutions which have for ever banished despotism, and secured his home--nay made it his _castle_. see the consequences in the myriads of beautiful infants that smile on every side of him, with the regular and placid lines that mark their faces, and the strait and truly proportioned limbs that distinguish vast numbers of all ranks of people of both sexes. still the deformed and pallid are numerous; but deformity and disease in london generally proceed from causes which _may be prevented_; very confined residences destroy the health of parents and their offspring; the lowest class of inhabitants drink away their comforts, and suffer their children to _crawl_ into manhood. the highest classes sometimes trust infants to mercenaries; crooked legs and injured spines are too often the consequence: yet we find thousands of males and females, who appear to have been nursed by the graces, and as far surpass the celebrated statues of the venus de medicis and the apollo belvidere, as the works of the creator ever will those of man. when a female of high rank emerges from the controul of her governess, and receives the last polish, i pronounce her an ornament to any court in europe. those favoured with an opportunity of seeing the , volunteers assembled at hyde-park in , determined to fight for their homes, must agree with me that no nation ever produced an equal number together so finely proportioned and handsome. in confirmation of my assertion that part of the deformity observable in the lower class of people might be prevented, i shall insert a parliamentary report concerning their children, and show how numbers taken from parents have been disposed of. "mr. whitworth reported from the committee appointed to inquire into the state of the parish poor infants, under the age of years, within the bills of mortality, and to report their opinion to the house; that the committee had inquired accordingly, and had come to several resolutions which they had directed him to report to the house. the said report was read, and is as follows: "the committee having examined the registers of the several parishes referred to them by the house, have collected from them the state of the parish infant poor; and find, that taking the children born in workhouses or parish houses, or received of and under months old in the year , and following the same into and , _only seven in one hundred_ appeared to have survived this short period. "that having called for the registers of the years , , , , of the children placed out apprentices by the parishes within the bills of mortality, it appears that there have been apprenticed out the number of ; but, upon examining the ages at which the said children so placed out were received in the seven years from till they grew up to be placed out, it appears that only of those born in the workhouses, or received into them under months old, compose any part of the ; and even of those received as far as three years old, only appear to have survived in the hands of the said parishes to be placed out apprentices. it appears that the children are kept in the several workhouses in town, or in the hands of parish nurses in town, only a small portion of them being sent into the country to be nursed, and the price of _s._ and _s._ _d._ per week first paid, is often reduced so low as _s._ _d._ and _s._ per week; that it cannot be presumed to be equal to the necessary care of infants. "your committee find the conduct of parish nurses was taken notice of by parliament in the year ; and upon examining also into the recent facts above related, it doth not appear to your committee that the evil is or can be remedied, unless proper regulations are established by legislative authority. it appears from the evidence of the parish officers of st. andrew, holborn (called within the city liberties), and also from mr. hutton, a principal inhabitant of that parish, that the sum of _s._ _d._ a week for the article of nursing, is as little as a child can be nursed at to have justice done it; but at the same time, they being sensible of the good conduct and management of the hospital for the maintenance and education of exposed and deserted young children, they have proposed to the governors and guardians thereof, to receive their infant parish poor at a certain rate, which, by the minutes of the general court of the said hospital, dated feb. , , which was produced to your committee and read, the said governors and guardians are ready to comply with, and likewise to forward any general purpose the legislature may think proper to direct, in relation to the preservation of the infant parish poor within the bills of mortality. "it appears upon the examination of saunders welch, esq. that great inconveniences have been found from parish boys being placed out apprentice so long as till the age of ; and upon reading the clause in the d of elizabeth, cap. , intituled, 'an act for the relief of the poor,' in the th section thereof it is said, 'parish officers are to bind their man child to the age of , but the woman child to the age of , or time of marriage.' this, your committee thinks, checks marriage, and discourages industry. it appears to your committee, that the usual sum given by parishes with apprentices, has been generally from to _s._ only, which your committee think inadequate to the procuring good masters. "it appears that the register directed to be made out by the act of the d of his present majesty, intituled, 'an act for keeping a regular, uniform, and annual register of all parish poor infants under a certain age, within the bills of mortality,' is deficient, by not setting forth how children are disposed of after the age of four years. "upon the whole, your committee came to the following resolutions: that it is the opinion of this committee, that the parish infant poor, within the bills of mortality, should be sent into the country to be nursed, at a distance not less than a certain number of miles from any part of the town: that it is the opinion of this committee, that the parish officers should allow and pay a certain sum for nursing each child: that it is the opinion of this committee, that a proper number of principal inhabitants should be chosen in every parish respectively, under the denomination of guardians of the parish infant poor, to inspect into the treatment of the said children nursed as above: that it is the opinion of this committee, that the parish officers, governors, and directors of the poor, should have the alternative of sending such children to the hospital, for the maintenance and education of exposed and deserted young children; and the governors and guardians thereof be permitted to take them at a certain sum, and to be paid by the said officers for nursing such children out of the parish rates: that it is the opinion of this committee, that parish children should be placed out apprentice for a shorter time than is by law prescribed: that it is the opinion of this committee, that a proper sum should be given as apprentice fees with the said parish children: that it is the opinion of this committee, that the register of infant poor under four years of age, should be continued on till the children are in the same manner disposed of in the world. "these resolutions were agreed to by the house, and a bill ordered." it appears from a return inserted in the journals of the house of commons, , that, in the preceding eleven years, the following was the state of the reception and discharge of parish children in the parishes mentioned, from which an accurate estimate may be formed for the rest of london. children died. returned apprenticed. under to their years old. parents. st. giles in the fields, and st. george bloomsbury st. margaret and st. john, westminster st. anne, westminster st. james, westminster st. clement danes st. andrew, holborn, and st. george martyr saffron hill st. james, clerkenwell st. mary, whitechapel st. saviour's, southwark st. leonard, shoreditch st. john, southwark st. luke, old-street st. botolph, aldgate st. martin in the fields st. paul, covent-garden ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- children, nursed as the above authentic documents prove they were, cannot but have been checked in their growth; and perhaps many of them are at this moment part of the miserable objects we daily see in the streets. the exercise of a little humanity may prevent similar evils in future. there is an admirable example, which has long been established for our imitation, where the offspring of vice and humble virtue, equally innocent, are received and nurtured with the utmost care, and where human nature is rescued from debasement, corporeal and mental. let the reader reflect on the thousands originally preserved, and their descendants rendered happy, through the god-like benevolence of captain coram; and he will immediately recollect the _foundling hospital_. in consequence of that worthy man's petition, george ii. granted a charter of incorporation, which authorised charles duke of richmond, and several other eminent persons, to purchase lands, &c. in mortmain, to the annual amount of _l._ to be applied to the maintenance and education of exposed and deserted infants. the first quarterly general meeting of the corporation was held december , , when subscription-books were ordered to be opened at the bank of england and various bankers, for inserting the names of annual contributors. the governors and guardians then amounted to near , who unanimously determined to vote their thanks to captain coram; but he declined them, and modestly requested they might be transferred to those ladies whose subscriptions had enabled him to procure the charter. this proposal was acceded to, and the benevolent captain deputed to convey them. montague house, now the british museum, had been thought by the governors in , an eligible receptacle for the objects of the intended charity; but messrs. fazakerly, and the attorney and solicitor generals, to whom the matter was referred, gave it as their opinion that the expence of obtaining those extensive premises would be too great. the governors resolved, in consequence, to open subscriptions for the purchase of land on which to erect an hospital, and in the mean time to receive sixty children in a temporary receptacle. they accomplished their wishes in the following december, by obtaining acres north of ormond-street, of the earl of salisbury, for _l._ the present site of the foundling hospital, guildford-street, &c. on the th of march, , male and female infants were received, all of whom were less than two months old; their baptism took place the ensuing sunday, when two were honoured with the names of thomas and eunice coram; others of robust frames and apparently calculated for future seamen, were called drake, blake, and norris. john milner, esq. vice-president of the corporation, assisted by many governors, laid the first stone of the new hospital in , when a copper plate, secured between two pieces of milled-lead, was deposited in a cavity; the plate is thus inscribed: "the foundation of this hospital for the relief of exposed and deserted young children, was laid th september, george ii. ." the corporation, laudably attentive to the future happiness of the orphans committed to their care, determined to have them inoculated for the small-pox in ; a process then as much condemned as vaccination is at present. the first stone of the chapel was deposited by ---- jacobson, esq. and contains the following inscription: "the foundation of this chapel was laid the st day of may, a. d. , and in the th year of his most sacred majesty king george ii." at the same time a successful attempt to obtain farther pecuniary assistance was made, by a public breakfast for ladies, at _s._ _d._ per ticket, when a collection for the chapel amounted to _l._ _s._ and another for the hospital produced _l._ _s._ _d._ the prince and princess of wales honoured the governors with their presence at the chapel, saturday, may , , to hear one of handel's compositions performed for the benefit of the hospital; the audience is said to have consisted of persons, who each paid _s._ _d._ for their tickets. the king sent _l._ and an unknown benefactor _l._ the worthy and veteran coram died march , , aged , and was buried april d, in the vault beneath the chapel of _his_ hospital. the honours due to this excellent philanthropist were paid by the corporation to the utmost extent; and the choirs of st. paul's and st. peter's westminster chaunted dr. boyce's funeral service over the body, which was covered by a pall borne by many persons of distinction, followed by the charter of the foundation carried on a velvet cushion; and the infants preserved by his exertions closed the procession. the present governors, fully sensible of the public debt of gratitude still in arrears, have recently given his name to great and little coram streets, erected on the surplus ground belonging to the charity[ :a]. frequent repetitions of handel's music, and contributions of every description, enabled the governors to receive children from to . they, however, thought proper to petition the legislature for assistance two years afterwards, and obtained , _l._ to be applied for the reception of infants under two months old. on the d june, , were admitted[ :b]. the governors found it necessary to publish the following notice on this occasion: "the governors and guardians of this hospital thinking it incumbent on them to expose the falsity of what has been propagated in several newspapers, that out of , _l._ granted by parliament to this corporation, _l._ was deducted in several offices for fees; do hereby assure the publick, that all fees whatsoever were charitably remitted by all the noblemen and gentlemen through whose offices the proper warrants pass, so that the clear sum of , _l._ was paid into the bank of england on account of the hospital. by order of the general committee, _sept. , _. j. collingwood, _sec._" in , the house of commons granted the enormous sum of , _l._ to enable the governors to take all children under six months of age, brought to them before jan. , . a general statement of the proceedings published in , declared, that from the opening of the hospital, march , , to dec. , , children had been received, of whom were taken from the st of june, , in consequence of the grant of , _l._ the number of deaths to the st of dec. , was . the sums presented to the charity in , including , _l._ from the legislature, amounted to , _l._ _s._ _d._; _l._ _s._ _d._ of which was bequeathed to the hospital, _l._ _s._ _d._ given in annual benefactions, and _l._ _s._ _d._ benefactions towards the charges of the chapel. the expences of this eventful year, in the annals of the charity, was , _l._ _s._ _d._; _l._ _s._ _d._ of which was paid in fees, when passing the warrants for , _l._ the _second_ grant from parliament. in , there were children on the establishment, in the house, and at nurse, principally received from the metropolis. from to , were received, of which number, died under the age of twelve months; their age when received is generally under two months, and the limitation is twelve months, unless in particular cases or when _l._ is sent with the child, and except the children of soldiers or sailors in the service of their country. children are admitted on petition, and the mother is examined as to the truth of her statements, who is placed, if practicable, in a proper situation to obtain a livelihood[ :a]. [illustration: _the foundling hospital_] welsh charity school. this school was established in for the reception, maintenance, education, and apprenticing poor children of welsh parents, born in and near london, who have no settlement; the school was originally held at the hat, shire-lane, then on clerkenwell-green; but the trustees finding it insufficient for the purpose, and it having been patronized by the prince of wales, and enriched by the donations of the publick, the governors were enabled in , to purchase the piece of freehold ground in gray's-inn lane, where the school is now situated; on which and other buildings for the reception of boys and girls, they expended _l._ from the foundation to , boys were entered upon the establishment, of whom, were apprenticed to captains of vessels and various trades[ :b]. such have been part of the proceedings of the inhabitants of london, in endeavouring to preserve the lives of infants; to which might be added many collateral means, particularly those which adopt the offspring of criminals, and thus render them useful members of society. the subject might now be spread into various ramifications; but as brevity should be preferred when practicable, i shall confine my information and observations to the _last century_, and present the reader with the most material occurrences in the still greater work of preserving the population of london from degenerating in every point of view, and even from starvation, during their progress to maturity, and in the decline of life. the commencement of the century was remarkable for a grand effort of charity, not the passing charity which provides for temporary wants of the body, that may recur almost immediately upon the disposal of the gift, nor that which removes the possibility of penury from the residents of alms and workhouses; but that which rendered the infant mind the seat of innocence, morality, and knowledge. the reader will fully appreciate the importance of this event, when i mention the schools established by one divine impulse in every quarter of the metropolis, and when he compares the chaos of ideas which must have composed the minds of the poorest classes of children, previous to the existence of these institutions, with the instructed infant comfortably cloathed, clean, and regular in attending divine worship. the next general act of beneficence originated from a forcible appeal to the feelings of the londoners, who beheld many hundreds of deluded germans or palatines, deserted by those who had promised to convey them to america, houseless, and without food, and relieved them from the pressure of those evils. cavendish weedon, esq. issued the following advertisement in , which does him immortal honour: "his majesty having been pleased by his late most gracious proclamation to signify his desires for the encouraging of piety and morality and suppression of vice, mr. weedon of lincoln's-inn, for the better promoting the honour of god and such his pious intentions, hath established a monthly entertainment of divine musick at stationers-hall, on monday, the th day of january next, and intended to be kept and continued there every first monday in every month, excepting the lent season, and the months of july, august, and september. the same to consist of anthems, orations, and poems, in honour and praise of god, religion, and virtue, one day; and in discouragement of irreligion, vice, and immorality, the other, alternately: to be performed by the best masters in each faculty; for which purpose all ingenious persons skilled in those qualifications that shall think fit to send in any composition in prose or verse to mr. playford, bookseller in the temple-change in fleet-street, free from all manner of reflections on parties and persons in particular, such as shall be approved of, mr. playford shall have orders to gratify the authors, and to return the others with thanks for the author's kind intentions. the performance to begin exactly at eleven of the clock in the morning; and tickets to be had at mr. playford's, garraway's, the rainbow, and at most of the chief coffee-houses in town. the benefit of the tickets, being only _s._ a-piece, the common price of other musick-tickets, is to be disposed of amongst decayed gentry, and the maintenance of a school for educating of children in religion, musick, and accompts." mr. weedon advertised in the gazette of may , , that his musical and other entertainments would be performed at stationers-hall on the th with anthems by dr. blow, an oration by mr. collier, and poems by mr. tate, her majesty's poet laureat, in praise of religion and virtue. the receipts to be applied as before-mentioned. in , british charity extended beyond the bounds of the realm, through an application from the society for the propagation of the gospel in foreign parts to her majesty, who was pleased, in consequence, to permit a collection to be made from house to house in all the parishes and precincts within the bills of mortality, to be applied to the purposes of the institution; which was announced from the reading-desks on trinity sunday. exclusive of the annual meetings of the charity children, there were opportunities taken to impress the publick with a due sense of the value of the institutions. in , they were assembled in the artillery-ground, where the duke d'aumont the french resident, and other distinguished characters attended to inspect them; the ambassador evinced his approbation by handsome presents of money to buy them books, &c. and on the thanksgiving day of these youths were seated upon elevated benches, which extended feet in the strand, where they saluted the two houses of parliament and the great officers of state, with hymns sung in unison. the trustees adopted a plan in , that seems well worth imitation at present, which was a sermon preached by the rev. dr. waugh, at st. bride's, from the th verse of the th psalm, "when my father and my mother forsake me, the lord taketh me up," before of those children, of who had been placed with persons as apprentices and servants. an impressive discourse addressed to young persons, under such circumstances, must be attended with the best effects. the gifts of private individuals to the poor cannot often be ascertained, but, that they are generally considerable, may be accidentally collected through the death of common beggars: one of those who lived in barbican, died in october, , when years of age, and seems to have perished through the chill occasioned by some sour beer given to her in smithfield; her pockets contained eight farthings, but the rags that covered her concealed broad pieces and guineas. in , the king gave the sheriffs _l._ for the relief and discharge of poor prisoners for debt. mr. feast, brewer, of whitecross-street, set a most brilliant example of charity in the dreadful winter of - , by purchasing chaldrons of coals, which he distributed to such poor persons as were deprived of work by the severity of the winter. in the following year persons formed a society for insurance upon lives, with a monthly dividend; but that which distinguished this association, and rendered it a proper subject for this chapter, was, their requesting the rectors, vicars, and wardens of st. martin in the fields, st. james, st. margaret's, st. giles, st. andrew's holborn, and st. clement danes, "to recommend two boys out of each parish to the society, which shall be put forthwith to school, cloathed, and _l._ given to put them out apprentices; and as the society receives encouragement, the same method will be used to the great parishes, within the bills of mortality, that are overburthened with poor; and that a monthly stock is kept, and security given to the trustees for the security of the stock, to put several hundred children apprentices, and the _l._ charity. each subscriber pays only _s._ per week; and if the person dies in a month after entrance, you are entitled to a dividend of months to be made; but, if your life should continue one year, you are entitled to _l._ to put out a child apprentice, or _l._ to be disposed of to charitable uses as you shall judge proper; and _l._ per month laid by as a stock to sink your weekly payments," &c. &c.[ :a] children attended the anniversary of the charity-schools in , at st. sepulchre's church; on which occasion the bishop of lincoln preached from dan. iii. . the number of schools of this description had increased from the reign of king william iii. in england and ireland to , and near , children received the benefit of instruction, and in many instances food and cloathing; those of london were , the number of boys educated in them , the girls ; the children apprenticed from them, boys , girls [ :a]. a most dreadful fire occurred at limehouse in the month of december, , by which near houses were destroyed, and infinite distress occasioned; the prince regent, agitated with strong sentiments of compassion, ordered the sum of _l._ to be distributed immediately to the most pitiable objects; which laudable example was promptly followed by others to a considerable amount. a more disinterested charity was prosecuting at the same period for the episcopal protestants of poland; towards which, _l._ was obtained in the inconsiderable parish of st. helen's, bishopsgate[ :b]. the prince of wales, actuated by the same impulse which now operates in the society for the relief of prisoners confined for small debts, sent _l._ at christmas, for the discharge of those at ludgate and the two compters. in the year following a person, unknown, sent a _l._ note to the treasurer and trustees of the blue-coat school, near tothill-fields, the receipt of which was acknowledged in an advertisement, stating the agreeable fact, that this sum enabled them to receive four additional scholars, whom they promised to cloath at the periods mentioned in the statutes of the institution. another, or perhaps the same person, released persons from whitechapel prison, in august, , cloathed them, gave them a dinner, and _s._ _d._ each; six months afterwards, the same benevolent unknown, repeated his charities at whitechapel, and released all confined for small debts, one of whom was imprisoned near six months for _s._ _d._ which had been swelled by charges and fees to _s._ jan. - , the king gave _l._ for the discharge of insolvent debtors, in the gaols of london and the county of middlesex. the king gave _l. per annum_, towards the relief of poor housekeepers in london and westminster[ :a]; that sum was increased to _l._ in , by collections under his majesty's letters patent for the same purpose. the prince appears to have given _l._ annually to the charter-house. a repetition of the liberality of the unknown occurred again in september , at whitechapel, when he released prisoners, besides giving them money. , the earl of thanet gave _l._ to the widows and children of clergymen. the society for the relief of the widows and children of clergymen has been already noticed, in the first volume of "londinium redivivum;" it will therefore only be necessary to state their gifts in , which amounted to _l._ _s._ exclusive of a considerable sum expended in placing out apprentices. mrs. mary turner, in the same year, commenced that noble foundation, which has since flourished with so much success, for the reception of incurable lunatics at bethlehem hospital, by a handsome legacy. shortly after an examination of the marshalsea books took place, when it was found that upwards of eleven hundred persons confined for small debts had been discharged within three years, by the charitable contributions of roman catholics. amongst the charities of , was that of lady holford, who left _l._ each to clergymen, on condition they attended her funeral; and eleven exhibitions of about _l._ each to as many boys, educated at the charter-house upon the foundation. the collection for the sons of the clergy amounted to _l._ _s._ in , which was distributed to children, in sums from _l._ to _l._ each; the annual contributions generally average now at _l._[ :a] the year closed with the unequalled donation of thomas guy, who then determined to found that hospital on the site of the antient st. thomas's, in southwark, which has immortalized his name. certain charitable persons established an infirmary in . two years afterwards they published one year's statement of their proceedings, from which it appears patients had been received, of whom were cured, incurable, died, discharged for non-attendance, for irregularity, out-patients, and within the infirmary, who received, with food and medicines, the exhortations of such clergymen as the society could procure. the london workhouse received from march to march , vagabonds, beggars, pilferers, and young vagrants, and lewd and disorderly persons, of whom were discharged, buried, and remained. in the same period, children were bound to tradesmen, were buried, and remained; the latter were religiously educated in the doctrines of the established church; and were employed in spinning wool, sewing, and knitting, and taught to read, write, and cast accompts. a treaty was completed in , between the british government and the emperor of morocco, by means of which, persons were restored to their country; who went in procession, clad in the moorish habit, to st. paul's, where a sermon suited to the occasion was preached by mr. berriman, chaplain to the bishop of london. the curiosity of the citizens to see the emancipated slaves was such, that the benevolent intentions of many charitable persons were frustrated; the collectors however obtained about _l._ after the sermon, they proceeded to st. james's, and were admitted to the garden, where the king did them the honour of viewing their grateful countenances, and afterwards ordered them _l._ the captives went thence to leicester-house, and received _l._ from the prince of wales. the newspapers of december , mention the revival of an antient custom upon the eve of great festivals; which was the lord mayor's visiting the markets in person, to solicit contributions of provisions for the poor. it is said that his lordship was very successful at this period. the spring of was extremely wet, and serious apprehensions of a total failure of the crops very generally prevailed. those fears fortunately proved fallacious; but the useful body of labourers who resort to the neighbourhood of london as haymakers suffered dreadfully, and several actually died for want of food and lodging. one sentiment of compassion seems to have prevailed for these wretched people, and and _l._ at a time was collected at the exchange and in several parishes: the duke of chandos gave of them _s._ _d._ and a sixpenny loaf each, at his gate at canons. mr. carey, vicar of islington, went to every house in the parish soliciting for them; and, having received a handsome sum, he afterwards distributed it in the church. the following january was very propitious to the funds of bethlehem hospital, several gentlemen having subscribed towards the erection of the wings for incurables. one of these gifts was _l._ a second _l._ and another _l._ with a promise of the same sum annually for four years; they unanimously concealed their names. m. mahomet, a turk, and a valet-de-chambre to george i. died in , of whom it was said, "he wore the habit of a turk, but had many christian virtues, being profusely liberal to the poor; and is said to have discharged near debtors from prison for small sums, since his coming into england." a mrs. palmer died in , who bequeathed the following large sums in charities: _l._ for propagating the gospel abroad; _l._ for promoting christian knowledge in the highlands of scotland; _l._ to queen anne's bounty; _l._ to bethlehem hospital; _l._ to the charity school of st. andrew's, holborn; and _l._ to poor widows, who received no alms from the parish. she resided in the parish of st. andrew; but was buried at st. giles's, cripplegate. the king honoured the corporation of london with his company to dinner, in october, ; when on his way, a person presented him a petition, beseeching relief for the various prisoners for debt in london; this he received in the most gracious manner, and immediately ordered _l._ to be paid to the sheriffs for that purpose. a committee of the house of commons visited the various prisons of the metropolis, by order of the house, in march, , when they found miserable wretches in the greatest extremity, through illness and want, at the marshalsea; which operated so forcibly on their feelings, that they immediately contributed sufficient to procure them medical assistance, nurses, cloaths, and food. bloomsbury-market, built by the duke of bedford, was opened in march, , to the great satisfaction of the neighbourhood. on the following monday, the duke bought all the unsold meat at the market-price, and had it distributed to the reduced housekeepers, and other necessitous persons, inhabitants of the parish of st. giles's[ :a]. chaldrons of coals were purchased in june, , for the use of the poor of the several wards within the city of london. there were dreadfully destructive fires at blandford and tiverton in ; the sufferers from which received unusual commiseration from the whole kingdom, and large subscriptions. the king gave _l._ to each of those towns, and the several wards of london made considerable collections. in the year , four charity sermons were preached in the parish of st. margaret, westminster, and a collection made from door to door, which amounted to _l._ intended for certain inhabitants of saltzburg, who were persecuted for their religious opinions, and desirous of emigrating to georgia. the weekly miscellany of may , , contains the following account of the charity schools then established in london, with the rules by which they were governed; they cannot but be read with avidity. "the most charitable and useful design of setting up schools, for the instructing children of the meanest and poorest of the people, was begun in the year . what has now diffused itself through the whole nation, sprung from a very small seed, which was first planted in this great city, and by the blessing of the divine providence has, in a wonderful manner, been increased; so that there is now, within the cities of london and westminster and bills of mortality, charity schools. this charitable design meeting with such encouragement from the very liberal benefactions of the inhabitants almost in every parish, trustees were chosen in each district to oversee the management of the masters and mistresses, and to prescribe rules and orders for the government of each school; and treasurers were appointed, to whom all contributions were to be paid, who annually make up accounts of all money received and disbursed. the trustees frequently meet, to examine into the behaviour of the masters and mistresses, and whether due care is taken to preserve a regular discipline, and that the boys and girls be instructed, not only to read, but to be examined in the repetition of the catechism, with the explanation thereof; which is brought in many schools to such perfection, that the children, upon their examination before the trustees, repeat, with great exactness, the texts in the holy scripture, to prove all the articles of the creed, and other parts of the catechism. these children are all cloathed at the expence of the trustees and subscribers; and when they have been fully taught to read, write, and cast accompts, they are then either put out to services, or to some handicraft trade. the girls are bred up not only to read, but to work in linen, knitting, and washing, so as to be fit for menial services. "these schools thus increasing, it was thought necessary, in the year , that the trustees should be formed into a voluntary society, and that a chairman should be elected to preside, and summon meetings of the trustees as often as occasion should render it necessary. these meetings have regularly been continued to this time, where orders from time to time have been, by the majority of votes, agreed upon; and in the year , rules and orders for the better regulation of the said schools, were recommended to the several trustees of the schools in the country; which being laid before the archbishops and bishops of the several dioceses in the kingdom, the said rules and orders were by them, under their hands, approved and established; which orders are here inserted: by which it will appear that the utmost care has been taken, not only to instruct the children in the knowledge of the christian religion, but also to breed them up in such a manner, that, as they are descended from the laborious part of mankind, they may be bred up and enured to the meanest services. if these orders be candidly considered, there is no reason for the objections that are commonly made against the charity schools; and it must be a great satisfaction to those that have engaged in this charitable and useful design, that out of so great a number of children as have been thus educated, there is but one instance that any of them have been convicted of any crime; and this person, being transported, was so far influenced by his first education, that he was so thoroughly reclaimed, that he became a very industrious and sober man, and is so sensible of the benefit of his education, that, being in good circumstances, he is an annual contributor to the school where he was educated. let it be considered, that as this city has vastly increased, and by consequence the poor proportionably multiplied, what must have become of all their children, if this method had not been taken for putting them out in an honest way to get their livelihoods, either by services or trades, the happy effects whereof is very evident. for there are now in the city of london many substantial tradesmen, who are constant contributors to the schools in which they were educated. to this may be added, that by particular benefactions a school is established for teaching the art of navigation, to qualify the boys, bred up in the charity schools, to be skilful and able seamen; since which a considerable number have been actually sent to sea; and by all the accounts received from captains of the ships where they were placed, they have fully answered the intention of their benefactors. "in some schools, both in london, and in the country, where the benefactions would allow it, the children are both fed and cloathed; and in these both boys and girls are enured to labour, and the profit of their work applied towards their maintenance and setting them up; and in most of the schools in the country, the children in the time of harvest, are to be absent from coming to school, that they may glean, or do other work; and when they are fully taught to read, they are put out to handicraft trades, or to be servants in husbandry. "that great prince the czar took with him not only the models of english ships, but also the scheme that was then newly projected for establishing charity schools, which upon return to his own country, he ordered to be erected in all parts of his vast empire, which he inforced by an edict, that none should be married that could not read the bible: so differently did this wonderful genius think from some politicians amongst _us_, who have laid it down for a maxim in government, that the _servile_ part of mankind are to be kept as _ignorant_ as possible; whereas _he_ endeavoured to promote knowledge and religion, even in the lowest conditions of life, as a means of making his nation a flourishing and powerful people, and himself a great and glorious monarch. "_rules for the good order and government of charity schools; drawn up by the trustees of those schools within the bills of mortality._ "i. that the directions given by the present lord bishop of london to the masters and mistresses of the charity schools within the bills of mortality and diocese of london, in the year (a copy of which hath been formerly sent to the several charity schools), be duly observed. particularly, " . the cautions there given against teaching the children any thing that may set them above the condition of servants, or the more laborious employments. " . the directions laid down concerning the psalms to be sung by the children on the days of collection, that they be taken out of the book of psalms only, and sung in the most common and usual tunes. " . the method there prescribed to the masters and mistresses in several rules, for possessing the minds of the children with the just sense of the duty and affection they owe to the present government, and the succession in the protestant line, and with a just dread of the persecutions and cruelties to be expected from a popish government. "ii. that the trustees of every school, according to the custom of the place, or the appointment of the founder, do frequently meet, and examine into the management of the school, and report the state and condition of the same at every general meeting of the subscribers. "iii. that they be very careful in the choice of a treasurer, who is to keep a fair account of all receipts and disbursements, for the view of all subscribers and contributors, who may desire to know how the money is disposed of. "iv. that the person who shall be chosen for master or mistress of any school, be a member of the church of england, of known affection to his majesty king george, and to the protestant succession as by law established; of a religious life, and sober conversation, a constant communicant, understanding the grounds and principles of the christian religion, and having a capacity for educating children, according to the rules herein recommended. "v. that, in training up of children, particular regard be had to the business they are most like to be employed in, either as servants, or in husbandry, or else in the woollen, iron, or such other manufactures, as are most used in those places where charity-schools are maintained. and in order thereto, that the children whilst at school be (so far as is consistent with their necessary learning, and the different circumstances of particular places) inured to some kind of work or labour, and in some measure daily employed in it; so that they may be rendered most useful to the publick; and for this end it may be proper that their earnings be applied towards finding them in diet, lodgings, and other necessaries. "vi. whereas thomas neale, esq. deceased, did devise part of his estate to be applied for supporting of charity schools, or for such other charitable uses as his executors thought fit; and frederick slare, doctor in physick, the surviving executor of the said mr. neale's will, hath, out of the surplus of the said estate, appointed a considerable sum of money for the payment of an annual salary for a master, to instruct poor children in such part of the mathematicks as may fit them for the sea service; and this appointment hath been established by a decree of the high court of chancery; and a charity-school for that purpose is erected in the city of london; and the trustees of the said school have ordered that each boy that should be sent from any of the charity schools, shall be taught the said science, upon the payment of twenty shillings a year for each boy: it is therefore in a particular manner recommended to the trustees of each school within the cities of london and westminster, that such boys as may be thought fit for the sea-service, be sent to the said school, to be instructed in an art which will render them so very useful to the publick. "vii. that the trustees do insist upon it with parents, as a necessary condition on which their children are to be taken into school, that they send them clean washed and combed, regularly and constantly, at the hours of schooling; that they comply with all orders relating to them, and freely submit them to be chastised for their faults, without quarrelling or coming to the school on such occasions; that children be not countenanced in their faults, or masters and mistresses discouraged in the performance of their duty. but if there be any just reason of complaint, that it be made to the trustees, in whose determination they are to acquiesce; or if persons neglect, or refuse to observe these orders, then their children to be dismissed the school; and if they are cloathed, to forfeit their school cloaths. "viii. that the trustees do likewise, as far as in them lies, oblige the parents of all such children as they take into their schools, to agree that their children be put out to such services, employments, or trades, as the trustees shall think most proper and advantageous to the publick, and the places where they live. "ix. and lastly, that the trustees do what they can to engage parents to give their children good examples at home, of a sober and religious behaviour, frequently to call upon them to repeat the church catechism, to read the holy scriptures, especially on the lord's day, and cause prayers to be read morning and evening in their families: so that both parents and children may be the better informed of their duty, and by a constant and sincere practice thereof, promote the pious and useful design of charity schools, and so procure the blessing of god upon them. "_rules proper to be observed by the masters and mistresses._ "i. that the masters and mistresses do themselves attend the school at the times appointed by the founders and trustees, and keep the children diligently to their business, during the hours of schooling, suffering none to be absent at any time, but upon account of sickness, or some such reasonable excuse, unless in the time of harvest, and when the trustees think it proper that they should be employed in husbandry, spinning, carding, or some other manufactures; but, if children are kept away, the trustees to be acquainted with it, that others more conformable may be taken into their places. "ii. that they teach the children the true spelling of words, make them mind their stops, and bring them to pronounce and read distinctly without a tone: and because it is found by experience, that in several places in the country due care has not been taken in these respects (the masters and mistresses being paid for teaching the children either by a monthly or quarterly allowance), it is proposed to such founders and trustees as shall think it requisite, that their payments be hereafter made in the following manner: the _first_ to begin so soon as each child can name and distinguish all the letters in the alphabet; the _second_, when the child can spell well; and the _third_, when it can read well and distinctly, and can repeat the church catechism. "iii. that they make it their principal care to teach the children to read the bible, to instruct them in the principles of the christian religion, according to the doctrine of the church of england; and that they explain the church catechism to them by some exposition, which, together with the catechism, the children should publicly repeat in church, or elsewhere, so often as the minister and the trustees shall require; and be frequently examined in school, as to their improvements of every sort. "iv. that they teach the children those doctrines and principles of religion which are in their nature most useful in the course of a private life, and especially such as concern faith and good manners. "v. that they bring the children to church, so often as divine service is there performed, before it begins, and instruct them to behave themselves orderly, kneeling, or standing as the rubrick directs, and to join in the public service with, and regularly to repeat after, the minister, with an humble low voice, and in the most devout manner, in all places where the people are so directed, in such manner as not to disturb the rest of the congregation, and particularly in singing of psalms: and that they likewise take care, that the children bring their bibles and common-prayer books always to church; and in order to prevent their spending the lord's-day idly or profanely, it will be proper that every master and mistress give each child some task out of the most useful parts of scripture, to be learnt on each lord's-day, according to their capacities; and that they require a strict performance of it every monday morning, and also oblige them to say the texts of the sermons preached the day before. "vi. that they never fail to pray morning and evening in the school, and teach the children to do the same at home, devoutly upon their knees, when they rise and go to bed, as also to say grace before and after meat. "vii. that they take particular care of the manners and behaviour of the children, and by all proper methods discourage idleness, and suppress the beginnings of vice; such as lying, cursing, swearing, profaning the lord's-day, obscene discourse, stealing, &c. putting them often in mind, and obliging them to get by heart such parts of the holy scriptures, where those things are forbid, and where christians are commanded to be faithful and obedient to their masters, to be diligent in their business, and quiet and peaceable to all men. "viii. that they call over in school the children's names every morning and afternoon; and, if any be missing, that they put them down in rolls kept for that purpose, as tardy or absent; as also for their being guilty of breaking any of the aforesaid rules and orders; and that they lay those rolls before the founders or trustees of every school, where required so to do, or before any other person empowered by the founder, trustees, or subscribers, who have a right to enquire into their behaviour, in order to their encouragement, correction, or expulsion. "ix. that they take care that where the children are cloathed, they wear their caps, bands, and cloaths every day; whereby the trustees, benefactors, and others, may know and see what their behaviour is abroad. * * * * * "these rules were approved by the archbishops and bishops whose names are underwritten: and they were pleased to direct, that the same be observed by all the charity-schools in their respective dioceses. w. cant. lan. ebor. edm. london. w. duresme. r. winchester. j. wigorn. j. bath and wells. jo. oxford. b. sarum. e. cov. and lich. sa. roffen. tho. ely. r. lincoln. jos. gloucester. w. norwich. jo. carliol. h. hereford. ric. st. david's. e. chichester. w. bristol. steph. exon. rob. peterborough. sam. cestriens. fr. asaph. tho. bangor. "the foregoing rules for the good order and government of charity-schools, being laid before the _society for promoting christian knowledge_, they have approved the same, as being agreeable to the rules of charity-schools formerly published by the said society; and have therefore directed that the same be printed, and dispersed among all the charity-schools in south britain." captive britons, nine of whom were commanders of vessels, arrived in england from the states of barbary in , and were presented to the king and the lords commissioners of the admiralty. the king gave them _l._ and several of the nobility and gentry five and ten guineas each, to which sir charles wager added _l._ they afterwards dined together at ironmongers' hall. the practice of placing infants in baskets, and those at the doors of opulent persons, was a common trait in the characters of imprudent females previous to ; of which the following advertisement will be a forcible illustration: "last tuesday evening a female child of about three weeks old was left in a basket at the door of buckingham-house. the servants would have carried it into the park; but the case being some time after made known to the duchess, who was told it was too late to send to the overseers of the parish, and that the child must perish in the cold without speedy relief; her grace was touched with compassion, and ordered it to be taken care of. the person who left the letter in the basket, is desired by a penny-post letter to inform whether the child has been baptized; because, if not, her grace will take care to have it done; and likewise to procure a nurse for it. her grace doth not propose that this instance of her tenderness should encourage any further presents of this nature, because such future attempts will be found fruitless." it gives me great pleasure to add, that _dropping_ of children is but little known at present. a charitable institution called the _stepney feast_, produced a sufficient sum, in , to apprentice boys at _l._ each, and to cloath seven, and one poor man. the duke of bedford, the earl of litchfield, and admiral haddock, were three of the eight stewards for the year ; when the ensuing verses, set to music by dr. green, were sung at the anniversary dinner. "from zembla's ever icy plain, from where eternal summer burns, from all the terrors of the main, the wearied mariner returns. old thames extends his parent arms, and all his rising towers shows, to welcome him from war's alarms to glorious ease and sweet repose. tritons wind their coral shells, and every cliff in echo tells: thus britain is grateful, thus britain bestows for a youth of brave toil, an age of repose[ :a]." the hospital at hyde-park corner was instituted oct. , , and has been supported by voluntary contributions from that day to the present; this is one of the many instances which might be produced of the _hereditary_ charity of the inhabitants of london; a species of benevolence silently handed from generation to generation; a bequest not inforced by forms of law, and parchment and seals. in the year , the prince of wales acted as president; the queen and princesses became subscribers; and the most eminent physicians, surgeons, and apothecaries attended the sick, &c. _gratis_. an additional wing was voted to the building, and the following statement[ :a] published: "cured from st jan. to th dec. discharged for non-attendance, most of them supposed to be cured dead discharged incurable for irregularities discharged as improper objects sent to guy's hospital patients in the house out-patients under the care of the house in the whole receipts for the year . £. _s._ _d._ subscriptions from oct. , , to dec. , benefactions, ditto ditto --------------------- disbursements - / --------------------- remainder - / --------------------- the necessity of alms-houses, hospitals, and, in short, every description of receptacles for the miserable poor, was apparent to every friend of humanity at this period; and it is to the honour of the then publick that the necessity was in a great measure removed. the parish-officers were universally negligent, and even the public papers asserted, "that the present laws (those of ) are defective; and that notwithstanding they impose heavy burthens on parishes, yet the poor, in most of them, are ill taken care of. that the laws relating to the settlement of the poor, and concerning vagrants, are very difficult to be executed, and chargeable in their execution, vexatious to the poor, and of little advantage to the publick, and ineffectual to promote the good ends for which they are intended." they proposed these remedies, which will at least explain the deficiencies of the day: "that a public workhouse or workhouses, hospital or hospitals, house or houses of correction, be established in proper places, and under proper regulations, in each county. "that in such workhouses all poor persons able to labour be set to work, who shall either be sent thither, or come voluntarily for employment. "that in such hospitals, foundlings, or other poor children not having parents able to provide for them, be taken care of; as also all poor persons impotent or infirm. "that in such houses of correction, all idle and disorderly persons, vagrants, and such other criminals as shall be thought proper, be confined to hard labour. "that toward the charge of such workhouses, hospitals, and houses of correction, each parish be assessed or rated; and that proper persons be empowered to receive the money so to be assessed or rated, when collected; also all voluntary contributions or collections, either given or made for such purposes," &c. &c. [illustration: _the centre of bancrofts almshouses_] whether bancroft was influenced by having viewed the state of the poor in the same light, or whether he acted from an innate impulse of charity, is of little importance at present; but it is certain that his alms-houses were most opportunely erected in , to supply part of the wants of the community, on the ground at mile-end, where a fair was previously held. this gentleman left , _l._ to accomplish his intentions; which were, that houses should be built for aged men, a school-room for poor boys, two houses for as many masters, and a chapel, under the direction of the company of drapers[ :a]. a person who concealed his name gave, in may, , the sum of _l._ to each of the following charities: the society for propagating the gospel in foreign parts; for the augmentation of poor livings; and the corporation of the sons of the clergy; with _l._ for the promotion of christian knowledge. the prince of wales sent the lord mayor _l._ in january , to be applied in discharging poor freemen from prison, by the payment of their debts and fees. the governors and the publick at large had enabled the conductors of the small-pox hospital (who at that time had two separate buildings for the purpose, the one at islington, the other in cold bath fields) to receive patients in six months, so long since as . those who have seen the present elegant building at battle-bridge, will be aware of the excellent accommodations it contains; and those who have not are referred to the view of it annexed. in the year , another pleasing act of benevolence distinguished the natives of london, under the title of "an asylum, or house of refuge for orphans, and other deserted girls of the poor within the bills of mortality, situated near westminster-bridge on the surrey side." the following notice appeared in the newspapers of the above period: "the guardians of this charity (the intention of which is to preserve poor friendless girls from ruin, and to render them useful members of the community) have engaged three matrons: the first to superintend the affairs of the house in general; the second a school-mistress to teach reading, knitting, sewing, making linen, &c.; the third to preside in the kitchen, and instruct the children in plain cookery, curing provisions, pickling, and other branches of housewifery. "the house will soon be prepared and furnished for the reception of _poor deserted girls_, from the age of eight to twelve years. "as in the beginning of these institutions considerable expences are necessarily incurred, the guardians hope the benevolence of the publick will be excited, to enable them effectually to carry this laudable design into present execution; and to extend their plan hereafter as they shall see occasion." this forcible appeal was by no means made in vain; subscriptions followed immediately, and the asylum _now flourishes_ in full vigour. [illustration: _the small pox hospital_] the efforts of the humane at present, in attempting to cure the ruptured poor, deserve every commendation; but it should at the same time be remembered, that the community of were equally desirous of alleviating the sufferings of the miserable. mr. lee, of arundel-street, surgeon, superintended the hospital at that period; and according to his statement to the committee of subscribers, men, women, and children, and upwards of fifty soldiers, had been perfectly cured, without the loss of a single life, from the day of its institution. mr. paterson, secretary to a charitable fund, gave the following account of it in a letter to the editor of the london chronicle, april , . "sir, "the distressed circumstances in which many of our inferior clergy necessarily leave their numerous families, induced the piety of our ancestors to establish a corporation for their relief; in aid of which, the stewards of the feast of the sons of the clergy have promoted an annual collection for putting some of their helpless orphans apprentices to reputable trades. but there being still wanting a fund for the maintenance and education of these poor children in their more helpless infant state; some gentlemen in the year , formed themselves into a society for raising such a fund by a small annual subscription, and for seeing it faithfully applied to this very humane and necessary purpose. "the society's income, small as it has hitherto proved, yet not being burthened with salaries of any kind, has enabled them in the course of nine years, to take care of boys, selected out of the most numerous and distressed families that applied. "of these, have been placed out apprentices, and to the remaining number the society have agreed to add two, besides filling up the vacancies that will happen, by the placing out of others who are now properly qualified. "the society's general account at their last audit in february, stood as follows: "total receipts _l._ _s._ _d._ disbursements, for schooling and maintenance, _l._ _s._ _d._ children's travelling charges _l._ _s._ _d._ printing _l._ _s._ _d._ balance in the treasurer's hands _l._ _s._ _d._ "the society's circumstances have hitherto prevented them from extending their care to the poor girls, whose situation, no doubt, is full as deserving of compassion; but this they hope the benevolence of other well-wishers to the church of england will soon enable them to do; and in the plan and management of this branch of the charity, they shall be glad of the advice and assistance of the ladies. "several bishops and other persons of rank of both sexes have been pleased to approve of the design and conduct of the society, and to honour the subscription with their names. john paterson, _sec._ "mr. hayter (treasurer) desires i will, in his name, acknowledge the receipt of a bank-note for _l._ sent in a penny-post letter signed p. q. r. and also of one guinea sent in the name of e. b. for the benefit of the above charity." a fire attended with many distressing circumstances occurred in king-street, covent-garden, at the close of , in consequence of which the managers of the theatre there granted the sufferers a benefit, when every person employed on the occasion gave their salaries for the night cheerfully. the produce of another at drury-lane was _l._ a subscription in imitation of that which took place in for rewarding the soldiers with money and clothing who assisted in suppressing the rebellion, distinguished the winter of ; and a very considerable sum was obtained for those then in the field. another subscription, far more disinterested, amounting to _l._ _s._ _d._ in january , was intended for the relief of french prisoners. as the prologue spoken at the drury-lane benefit alludes to each of the above traits of national benevolence, i think, the reader will pardon its insertion. "cowards to cruelty are still inclin'd, but generous pity fills each briton's mind. bounteous as brave; and though their hearts are steel'd with native intrepidity, they yield to charity's soft impulse: this their praise, the proud to humble, and th' oppress'd to raise: nor partial limits can their bounty know;-- it aids the helpless alien, though a foe. hear this, ye french, who urge the insidious strife that arms the indian with the murdering knife; who, to your foes less cruel, leave your own starving in sad captivity to groan. think of th' inhuman policy--and then confess, ye fight not, nor ye feel, like men. britons, this night your kind compassion flows for near-felt mis'ries and domestic woes; the dire distress with horror we recall;-- 'twas death, 'twas dreadful devastation all. the sleepers were alarm'd with wild dismay, as lull'd in calm security they lay; while each perhaps in dreams forgot his pains, and fondly counted o'er his honest gains. but oh! the poor mechanic, scarce with life himself escap'd, his children and his wife, cold, naked, hungry, whither can they roam, no friend to succour, and without a home? their little _all_ with sorrow they survive, and hardly deem it mercy, that they live. your tender care their present wants supplies, and gives to industry new means to rise; nor needed yet this bounteous act to prove your wide humanity, and social love; all, all who want it, your protection find; for britons are the friends of all mankind." the continued rains of may had almost ruined the haymakers assembled near the metropolis, and compelled them to enter it as suitors for charity, which they received to the amount of _l._ _s._ from the merchants on change spontaneously. persons shared the above sum. in a work of this description the thoughts of respectable writers cannot but be acceptable; one of those observed, in july , "that parish charges (were) every where justly complained of; but how insupportable would they be, were it not for the hospitals erected in the metropolis, and of late in several county towns, which, so far as they extend, for they go no farther than to relieve such sick or lame poor as there is a probability of curing, are of infinite use, not only to london and the county towns, but to the country for many miles around them. "in st. bartholomew's hospital, in the year , there were , in-patients cured. the number of in-patients in that hospital at that time is , and in guy's and st. thomas's about in each. supposing the numbers of in-patients cured in the two last to be the same, therefore, with that in st. bartholomew's hospital, the total in the three will be , : add to these, the number cured in the hospitals at hyde-park corner and westminster, the london infirmary, the middlesex, small-pox, bethlehem, and other hospitals in london, and they will amount to , at least. add to this number the patients cured in the hospitals at winchester, bath, bristol, newcastle, shrewsbury, northampton, liverpool, and the two hospitals at exeter; i think there are fourteen of them out of london in different counties; and i believe i shall not exceed when i put the whole number, including those at london, at , . all these are entirely maintained, and do nothing towards a subsistence; except that in some houses, those who are tolerably well assist in cleaning the house, making the beds, &c. "and it is very observable, that these hospitals for the sustenance and relief of the sick and lame poor have all of them been founded (st. bartholomew's, st. thomas's, &c. excepted) within these forty years: hyde-park hospital was founded in . "the london hospitals are so many and large, and under such prudent management, that scarce any persons are so destitute of friends, but they can procure admittance into one or other of them. in this, as in all other instances, providence seems to have proportioned the quantity of pity and compassion to the real wants and distresses of the indigent." there are numbers of well-disposed persons who would contribute to the support of charitable institutions, were they introduced to their notice in a manner congenial to the bent of their inclination. a man of a grave and sedentary turn of mind may be prevailed upon by a tale of distress to open his purse, but similar methods will not succeed with the _bon vivant_; full of life and spirit, he drives care from him by every artifice in his power; and yet the governors of our hospitals and benevolent foundations have contrived a trap for him, and he cheerfully catches at the bait.--_ecce signum!_ _magdalen-house charity, prescot-street, goodman's fields, feb. , ._ "the _anniversary feast_ of the governors of this charity will be held on thursday, the th of march next, at drapers-hall, in throgmorton-street; after a sermon to be preached at the parish church of st george's, hanover-square, before the right honourable the earl of hertford, president, the vice-presidents, treasurer, and governors of this charity, by the rev. william dodd, a. m. chaplain to the bishop of st. david's. prayers will begin at o'clock precisely. "_and dinner will be on the table at three o'clock._ "n. b. a _te deum_ composed by mr. handel, for the late duke of chandos's chapel, with _jubilate_ and other anthems, will be performed by mr. beard, and a proper band of the best performers, both vocal and instrumental. "tickets for the feast may be had at the following places at _five shillings each_," &c. &c. the readers of the newspapers of our day will thus perceive that solomon was right in saying, 'there is nothing new under the sun;' from the above hour, nay long before, conviviality and charity have coalesced. dinners, and collections after dinners, when the mind generously dilates, have relieved thousands from the deepest misery; and i hope this mode of filling the chasms of more disinterested benevolence will prevail till such methods are unnecessary. an occurrence happened in , which places the humanity of his present majesty in a very amiable point of view. a female infant had been left in one of the courts of the palace of st. james's; some of the officers in waiting sent it to the overseers of st. martin's parish, who, with those of st. margaret's afterwards applied to, refused to receive the child under the plea that the palace was an independent jurisdiction. when the king heard of the circumstance, he immediately ordered that a nurse should be provided, and the fortunate orphan was subsequently honoured with the name of georgiana charlotta sophia. the city of london lying-in hospital, established many years past, has served as a pattern for several others in various parts of the metropolis. from the date of its commencement to , married women had been received, of whom were delivered of twins, and one of three children; including which, male and female infants were indebted for life to this humane establishment[ :a]. collections have been frequently made during severe weather, or on some particularly distressing occasion, from door to door in the various parishes within the bills of mortality, and considerable sums obtained. in the winter of , the inhabitants of st. anne's, westminster, gave _l._ _s._ _d._ the princess dowager of wales _l._ and the duke of york _l._ to the poor not relieved by the regular assessments. nor was this a solitary instance of generosity, as the duke of newcastle gave above _l._ to different places at the same period; and the rich parish of st. james's relieved persons with gifts of money and coals. though so much had been done to prevent the calamities of poverty, wretchedness prevailed in places where benevolence could not imagine it existed. garrets in retired alleys and lanes always afford inmates in the last stages of disease and starvation; and the instances that might be adduced would prove very distressing in the recital; but that _supposed empty houses_ should contain wretches expiring with want, was beyond the imagination of the most exalted charity; and yet the following melancholy fact actually occurred in november , the narrative of which may serve as a hint to overseers, whose duty it is, i should conceive, to prevent actual _death through want_ in their respective districts. a mr. stephens, of fleet-market, was commissioned to shew some empty houses in stonecutter-street intended for sale, and one day accompanied a gentleman to them, who had thoughts of purchasing the estate on which they were situated. on entering a room on the first floor, an object of horror attracted their attention, _a naked female corpse_! stephens, alarmed beyond expression, fled from the scene; but the other more courageous ascended to the next floor, where he was soon after joined by his terrified attendant, and they discovered a second and a third woman dead, and nearly destitute of clothing; pursuing this dreadful research, they found in the upper story two women, and a girl about eighteen years of age, one of whom, and the latter, appeared emaciated beyond description, but their companion in misery was in better condition. prudence and humanity dictated that an examination should take place as to the cause of so singular and dreadful an occurrence; in consequence, the survivors were taken into custody, and the ensuing particulars were related by them before the coroner and his jury. "it appeared on the inquisition, from the evidence of elizabeth stanton, one of these women, that on the wednesday preceding the inquiry she came from westminster, and being in want of lodging, strolled to this house, and laid herself down on the ground-floor, where she saw nobody; that about eleven that evening the woman in good condition (elizabeth pattent) a stranger to her, came into the room where she (stanton) had laid herself down, and by treading on her awakened her, at the same time crying out 'who is there?' to which stanton replied, 'no person that will hurt you, for that she was going away in the morning.' pattent therefore advised her to go up to the garret with her, which she did, and stayed there all that night, and the following day and night, and until she was taken into custody in the garret upon the above discovery. "pattent, being out of place, attended the fleet-market as a basket-woman; where she became acquainted with the deceased women, who were basket-women, and both known by no other names than bet. pattent, being destitute of lodging, was recommended to this ruinous house by the deceased women, who had lived, or rather starved, there for some time. pattent, in the day-time, used to go to her late mistress's, who kept a cook's-shop in king-street, westminster, and worked for her victuals, and lodged in this house at night, where she continued till she was taken into custody. about the middle of the week preceding the inquisition, the deceased women were taken ill; and on saturday the th instant, pattent pawned her apron for sixpence, and bought some beef and plumb-pudding at a cook's-shop in shoe-lane, and both the deceased women on saturday and sunday ate heartily thereof, and on sunday night she heard the deceased women groan. one had the itch, and the other a fever; and, being fearful of catching the one or the other, she did not go to them any more; nor did she know of their deaths till taken into custody. "elizabeth surman, the girl, was the daughter of a deceased jeweller, in bell-alley, coleman-street; her parents died when she was about six years of age, and she was taken care of by mrs. jones, a next door neighbour, with whom she lived about four years; mrs. jones then dying, surman was left destitute; and on being informed she could get employment in spital-fields, she went there, and assisted a woman in winding quills, but she retiring into the country, surman was again left destitute; however, she found employment in spital-fields market, with mrs. bennet, in winding silk, but, not pleasing her, was discharged in a week. she then went to mrs. roach's in that market, who took in washing and nursed children, where surman continued six years, and until she was taken ill, on which account she was discharged her service. she then went to the churchwarden of the parish where her father had been housekeeper many years, to desire relief; _but he refused, without so much as expostulating with her about her legal settlement, or informing her that she had gained a settlement by servitude_. she being very ill and weak, _lay all night at the churchwarden's door, but it had no effect on him_; and this girl was obliged to lie about in the streets, until she was informed of this empty house, where she lay every night for near two months; the deceased women being there when she came, and both then lying on straw in the two pair of stairs room. for the first week of surman's being there, she lay in the room with them on straw, all which week _she was ill with an ague, and had no sustenance_ whatever; _that then elizabeth pattent relieved her_; and as surman grew better, she went abroad and received alms, returning at night, and delivering her money to pattent, who bought her victuals. surman was afterwards received into st. andrew's workhouse, where she continued a week; and, about a fortnight ago, she returned to this empty house, and lodged in the garret; and being very ill, _was assisted by pattent_, and for the last fortnight was not out of the garret till last friday, when she, with the two other women, were found in the garret, and taken into custody, and never saw or heard, all that time, any thing of the deceased women till she was apprehended. "on pattent's being interrogated with respect to the woman's being stripped naked and selling her cloaths, she strictly denied knowing any thing of it; alledging, that as they all entered the house at the cellar, and she being mostly out in the day-time, and attending the poor girl at night, other persons might strip the deceased unknown to her. "there were no marks of violence about the deceased women, _but they appeared as if starved_. "the jury were well satisfied with the account they had received from their most deplorable evidence. the coroner gave them some money; and the jury ordered them a supper, and that care might be taken of them in the casualty-house." these pitiable objects, worthy of a far better fate, who starved rather than they would steal, and met death surrounded with tenfold terrors, supported by pure consciences, deserve statues to their memory; nay, pattent would have done honour to roman virtue, who worked the day through for a miserable subsistence, and passed the night in watching and relieving the sick--and yet i should be afraid to know the sequel of her eventful story. is it not shocking to think on this catastrophe, when we reflect how many would have contributed to the relief of this family of misery, had they known their wants, when advertisements for relief daily appeared from the distressed and were successful. even at the moment they were dying a thousand lingering deaths through every possible privation, catharine shaw, a widow, with seven children and a mother, acknowledged the bounty of the publick in the receipt of _l._ _s._ _d._ and presentations to christ's hospital for two of her boys. the marine society, mentioned in "londinium redivivum," relieved youths _a second time_ in . these lads, rescued originally from ruin, and sent by the society into the king's service, were discharged on the conclusion of peace; when they apprenticed to fishermen, to trades, to manufacturers, to public-houses, to the merchant's service, to naval officers for three years, one to agriculture, and nine to water and lightermen; assisted to procure masters, sent to their friends, and provided for themselves. the unfavourable weather which occurred in july , did infinite damage to the grain near london; and a hail-storm that fell on the d injured the inferior farmers' property to the amount of _l._ in middlesex only: the benevolent inhabitants of the metropolis, touched with their misfortunes, opened a subscription, and restored their losses[ :a]. a second scene of wretchedness and distress attracted commiseration in the above year, for certain germans; who, deceived by splendid offers of prosperity provided they emigrated to america, were left by their inhuman deceivers to perish in the neighbourhood of london, because they found some deficiencies in their own calculations of profit. such was the miserable situation of those poor palatines, that they actually lay in the fields near bow, where, it is asserted, they had not eaten for two days previous to the following generous act recorded of a baker, who should have been a prince. this worthy man (whose name has unfortunately not been mentioned) passing along the road near the germans with his basket on his shoulder, containing two-penny loaves, perceiving their forlorn situation, threw it down, and observed, that his customers must fast a little longer that day, and immediately distributed the bread, for no other return than signs of gratitude and tears of joy. this affecting circumstance is the first intimation the publick received of their situation; but mr. wachsel, minister of the german lutheran church, in little ayliffe-street, goodman's-fields, thus addressed the publick immediately afterwards, through the medium of the newspapers: "i hope you will permit me, by means of your paper, to inform those who have the power to redress it, of the very deplorable situation of the poor unhappy palatines, lately arrived here from germany. they are in number, men, women, and children, about _six hundred_, consisting of wurtzburghers and palatines, all protestants; and were brought hither from their native country by a german officer, with a promise of being sent to settle, at his own expence, in the island of st. john and le croix, in america; but _by inability he has been obliged to decline the undertaking_; so that, instead of their being shipped off for those places, some of them have lain during the late heavy rains, and are now lying, in the open fields adjacent to this metropolis, without covering, without money, and, in short, without the common necessaries of life; others lie languishing under the complicated evils of sickness and extreme want, at the statute-hall in goodman's-fields; and more than remain on board the ship which brought them over, on account of their passage not being paid for, where they are perishing for food, and rotting in filth and nastiness. collections have been made at the german churches and chapels here, several times, to afford them some relief; but as the number of these poor creatures is so considerable, it is impossible, by such means, to furnish them with a regular and continued supply, adequate to their wants; so that, unless some provision is very speedily made for them, they must inevitably perish. these unfortunate people would think themselves inexpressibly happy, if the english government would be graciously pleased to take them under its protection; to allow them, for the present, some ground to lie on; tents to cover them; and any manner of subsistence, till it shall be thought proper to ship them off, and settle them in any of the english colonies in america; where, i doubt not, they will give their protectors and benefactors constant proofs of their affection and gratitude for such kindness, by behaving as becometh honest, industrious, and dutiful subjects to the british government. i take the liberty of thus expressing the hopes and wishes of these wretched beings, as they have no friend to intercede for them who has interest sufficient for such an undertaking, or even a knowledge of the proper method of application. "that their distresses are unutterably great, i myself have been too often a mournful witness of, in my attendance on them to administer the duties of my function; with one instance of which i shall conclude this melancholy detail. one of the poor women was seized with the pangs of labour in the open fields, and was delivered by the ignorant people about her in the best manner they were able; but, from the injury the tender infant received in the operation, it died soon after i had baptized it; and the wretched mother, after receiving the sacrament at my hands, expired from the want of proper care and necessaries suitable to her afflicting and truly lamentable condition. "that the almighty may, of his infinite mercy, incline the hearts of the great and good of this kingdom, distinguished for its charity and hospitality, to take under their protection these their unhappy fellow christians, who did not intrude themselves into this country, but were invited hither, and send them whithersoever they in their wisdom and goodness shall think proper, is the most ardent prayer of g. a. wachsel." a subscription was opened at batson's coffee-house, where eight hundred pounds was instantly subscribed; and government, fully impressed with the urgency of the case, immediately sent tents and other necessaries from the tower. on the following sunday _l._ was collected at whitechapel-church, and several other parishes followed this most urgent example; but one unknown good samaritan sent mr. wachsel an _l._ bank note, who soon after addressed the editors of the newspapers with the following welcome information: "as i have twice solicited the attention of the publick through your paper in regard to the german emigrants, give me leave now to inform those beloved servants of the lord, of every rank, who so cheerfully fulfilled the will of their divine master, in kindly receiving, feeding, clothing, and visiting these poor strangers, that the remainder of them on the th instant (november ), left this christian hospitable shore, to settle in america, on the spot assigned them by the bounty of the gracious ruler of this happy realm. for all which extraordinary and unparalleled instances of beneficence, and likewise for the attention paid to them by the most worthy gentlemen of the committee, who not only generously contributed to their relief, but have also been indefatigably employed in conducting this charity with the utmost wisdom and integrity, my warmest and most respectful thanks, as well as those of my poor brethren, are too mean a tribute. but, though they earnestly entreated me to convey their humble and sincere acknowledgments to their very humane and generous benefactors, it is out of the power of language justly to describe their grateful feelings on this occasion: i am, however, confident, that the remembrance of the benefits so seasonably and liberally bestowed on them will remain on their minds to the latest period of their existence; and that they will seize every opportunity of testifying their gratitude to this nation. "i have been applied to by anonymous letters, complaining of the delay of the promised account of receipts and disbursements; to which i take this opportunity of replying, that when the gentlemen subscribers, after the publication of my first letter, had formed themselves into a committee for the management of this charity, i gave into their hands an account of what i had received and expended before their establishment; and to them i have paid all the monies since received by me, &c. &c. g. a. wachsel." the king sent _l._ to the committee alluded to by the indefatigable wachsel, who exerted themselves with the utmost perseverance, in providing food and other necessaries, while the minister read prayers and preached daily before the palatines, in addition to his other unwearied exertions in their favour. after the more immediate attentions had been paid to their wants, the committee determined to petition the king, that he would be pleased to grant the germans lands in some of the american provinces; which they had no sooner done, than they were informed land in south carolina should be appropriated for that purpose, and that they would be allowed stand of arms to be used by them on their settlements for defence from the indians and for hunting. upon this favourable result, the committee agreed with certain ship-owners to convey the objects of their care to the place of their destination, on the following liberal terms: "two ships of not less than tons each, and to carry no more than persons in each ship, to be ready to sail in ten days: the necessaries to be provided were, one pound of bread of sixteen ounces for each person, men, women, and children, every day; one man, one woman, and three children to a mess: sunday, for each mess, a piece of beef of four pounds, flour three pounds, fruit or suet half a pound, and a quart of pease. monday, stock-fish three pounds, butter one pound, cheese one pound, potatoes three pounds. tuesday, two pieces of pork six pounds, rice two pounds. wednesday, grits five pounds, butter two pounds, cheese two pounds. thursday, the same as sunday, only potatoes instead of pease. friday, grey pease two quarts, butter two pounds, cheese two pounds. saturday, flour three pounds, fruit half a pound, potatoes two pounds, butter two pounds, and cheese two pounds. sufficient of vinegar, pepper, and salt every day; a ton of water for every three persons; six quarts of good ship beer each mess, for the first three weeks; and for the remainder of the voyage, a pint of british spirits each day; medicines, and a doctor to each ship, provided by the committee. "half the freight to be paid before sailing from gravesend, the other moiety at their delivery at south carolina, deducting one half of the second payment for every person that dies on their passage: all that exceed fourteen years on the first of september, to be deemed whole passengers; all under two to be deemed as one passenger. security is required for the exact performance of the above contract." on saturday, october , the germans left their tents, to embark on board of lighters which were to convey them to blackwall, attended by the treasurer and several gentlemen of the committee. the parting between those poor people and their guardian wachsel was exceedingly affecting; nor were their expressions of gratitude to the inhabitants of london less fervent, who accompanied them in crowds in boats, admiring the devotion with which they sung various hymns on their way. one detestable act disgraced this dignified scene of disinterested charity, which seems almost beyond credibility, and yet it is certainly a fact; the committee had filled four tents with clothing, which were guarded by children during the time their parents were attending divine service; at that critical moment, several wretches decoyed the guards away by a distribution of half-pence to buy cakes, and immediately stole every article worth conveyance. the above splendid æra in the annals of charity was equally distinguished by the exertions of other individuals, who obtained large sums by contributions from the publick, with which they relieved persons who had been compelled to pawn their clothes, and other necessary articles, to supply the deficiencies in their earnings, through the decline of the silk manufactory in spitalfields. i am, however, sorry to add that the conduct of those artizans did not in the least resemble that of the germans; clamorous assemblies of men, women, and children, under turbulent leaders, with a black flag carried before them, approached the royal residence of st. james's; where, disappointed of meeting the king, many of the most violent presumed to follow his majesty to richmond with a petition, which certainly ought to have been presented to the house of commons through the medium of a member; others met in old palace-yard, where they obstructed the passage of the peers, and were only prevented from committing acts of violence by a party of guards. thus disappointed of their aim, they spread in various directions, and almost filled bloomsbury-square in defiance of parties of horse and foot soldiers sent to keep the peace. after suffering several severe injuries, self-committed by pressure, they returned towards home; but in their way broke all messrs. carr and co.'s windows on ludgate-hill, and would have done other damage, had not a patrole of grenadier guards interfered and dispersed them; but, as this article should be wholly devoted to the peaceful operations of benevolence, i must refer the reader to "popular tumults," for the remainder of the event. the king gave _l._ to the sufferers by a fire in bishopsgate-street, london, in november ; and the society of quakers _l._ during the severity of the winter of - , a great deal was done for the relief of the poor, particularly in the following instances: earl percy gave _l._; _l._ was collected at almack's; daniel giles, esq. distributed chaldrons of coals; the archbishop of canterbury gave _s._ _d._ each, to upwards of watermen of lambeth; the lord mayor had pounds of beef boiled every day, and distributed it and the broth from it; an unknown person released prisoners from the poultry, and others from wood-street, confined for debts between forty shillings and six pounds, and each received thirty shillings, the surplus of the cash sent; besides these generous acts, large sums were collected in various parishes, and the queen gave _l._ under a feigned name, through the hands of dr. hill[ :a]. sir john fielding, long celebrated for his activity as the supreme director of the police westward of temple-bar, thus addressed the publick in march : "the worthy and ingenious mr. nelson, in a book, intituled, 'an address to persons of quality and estate,' relative to the different methods of doing good, seems from the benevolence of his mind, and from that rich fountain of humanity in his heart, to have furnished hints for almost all the charities which have been established since his time; and, indeed, from the present number of them, one should imagine, that scarce a distress could arise to the poor, but there is an hospital, infirmary, or asylum to relieve; yet, alas, how short-sighted is the eye of man! for, behold a new charity makes its appearance, of a most striking nature indeed; namely, a dispensary for the benefit of the infants of the industrious poor; and how objects so essential to the community should have been so long overlooked by the ingenious and benevolent, is very surprising. the fate of those children that have fallen to the lot of workhouses in their tender state, has been proved, beyond contradiction, to have been dreadful to the last degree; few, indeed, of such lives having been preserved. for this evil some remedies have been provided by law, which, i hope to god, may prove effectual. the next class of distressed objects of this kind are, the infants of the industrious poor, who, being careful and temperate, have frequently large families, which they may indeed subsist, but numbers of these sort of children are precipitately snatched from the fond mother's embrace by sudden diseases, which the poverty and the ignorance of the parent render them incapable of contending with. the lives of children hang on a slender thread, and their diseases, though few, require immediate and able assistance: behold then armstrong's dispensary opening its bosom for the relief of these tender patients! it seems a work of supererogation to recommend such a charity as this; it speaks for itself, and needs but to be considered to be encouraged; and to the mother's breast it speaks a feeling language indeed; for the experience that may be acquired in the knowledge and cure of diseases incident to children, by this institution, may be the happy means of preserving heirs to many valuable families, and of preventing much of that sorrow which swells the mother's heart when the little object of her affection is snatched from her tender arms. "j. fielding. "the remarkable success hitherto experienced in treating the little patients, as appears from the account published after the meetings of the committee, must doubtless be no small recommendation of this charity." this dispensary, calculated for infants only, was accompanied by a plan (separately recommended by mr. daniel sutton) for the _eradication_ of the small-pox by inoculation, at receiving-houses in various parts of the metropolis. the latter, however, appears to have been the most successful application to the feelings of the publick, as i believe amongst the numerous dispensaries, which at present do honour to london, there is not one appropriated exclusively to children; nor is it necessary when relief is afforded at all to every description of disease in either infants or adults. the excellent institution for the relief of persons confined for small debts, which originated from the active mind of the late unfortunate dr. dodd, and which has been continued to the present moment, principally through the exertions of mr. neild, gave the following flattering account of their success, even in the infancy of the undertaking, jan. : " persons discharged, together with wives and children, amounting in all to souls relieved by means of the public humanity." an act was passed in , for the better regulation of lying-in hospitals and other places of reception for pregnant women, and to provide for the safety of illegitimate children born within them; a clause of which enacts, "that from and after the first day of november, , no hospital or place shall be established, used, or appropriated, or continue to be used or appropriated, for the public reception of pregnant women, under public or private support, regulation, and management, in any parish in england, unless a licence shall be first had and obtained, in manner therein-mentioned, from the justices of the peace at some one of their general quarter sessions to be held for the county, riding, division, city, or corporation, wherein such hospital or place shall be situated." one of the most singular methods of obtaining charity perhaps ever adopted, occurred in january . the severity of the weather had rendered navigable canals useless; and with others, those of oxford and coventry; consequently the persons employed on them were distressed for want of employment. eighteen of the sufferers obtained a waggon, which a gentleman of willoughby generously filled with the best coals; and thus furnished, they harnessed themselves to the vehicle, and set off from bedworth in warwickshire to draw it to st. james's, there to present the coals to the king. the oddity of their contrivance proved highly beneficial to them on their road; and when they arrived at the palace, the board of green-cloth ordered them twenty guineas, but refused the coals, which were disposed of, and the produce greatly augmented by gifts from numbers of persons who witnessed the exertions of these human _drafts-men_[ :a]. several instances have been already given of individuals endeavouring to alleviate the calamities arising from the resentment of inexorable creditors, by the discharge of the debts which excited it. every possible praise is certainly due to those philanthropists; nor is the society just mentioned less deserving of the thanks of the community; but their's is an herculean labour, and a sum equal to the revenues of a state would be little more than sufficient to accomplish the release of all entitled to commiseration. impressed with similar sentiments, john howard, esq. determined to explore the various prisons in england, and indeed throughout europe, not so much with a view to discharge captives, as to render them the most essential service while such, by exposing their unwarranted sufferings, inflicted in defiance of the dictates of humanity, and even contrary to law. his labours in this pursuit, his disregard of opposition, his manly reprobation of oppression to the oppressor, disdain of personal danger from vindictive revenge and disease, his death, and the honours decreed him by public bodies and public gratitude, are all fresh in the memories of my readers: i shall therefore merely quote his own words in explanation of his intentions, when they were perhaps not fully developed to himself. "to the publisher of the london chronicle. _cardington, march , ._ "mr. wilkie, "the account i gave before the house of the state of gaols being somewhat misrepresented in the papers, i must beg the favour in your next to set it right. "i am, sir, &c. john howard. "i informed the house that i had travelled and seen out of the gaols in the lent circuit, besides others, as bristol, ely, litchfield, &c.: that those i had not seen in the circuit, in a few days i should set out to visit them: that i released a person out of norwich city gaol, who had been confined five weeks for the gaoler's fee of _s._ _d._: that at launceston the keeper, deputy keeper, and ten out of eleven prisoners, lay ill of the gaol distemper; at monmouth, last wednesday se'night, the keeper lay dangerously ill, and three of the prisoners were ill; at oxford, eleven died last year of the small-pox. "that as to fees, those in the western counties were highest, as at dorchester, _l._ _s._ _d._ winchester, _l._ _s._ _d._ salisbury, _l._ _s._ _d._: but in the county of york only _s._ "that the gaols were generally close and confined, the felons wards nasty, dirty, confined, and unhealthy. that even york-castle, which to a superficial viewer might be thought a very fine gaol, i thought quite otherwise; with regard to felons their wards were dark, dirty, and small, no way proportioned to the number of unhappy persons confined there. many others are the same; as gloucester, warwick, hereford, sussex, &c. the latter had not for felons, or even for debtors, at their county gaol at horsham, the least outlet; but the poor unhappy creatures were ever confined within doors without the least breath of fresh air. "i was asked my reasons for visiting the gaols? i answered, i had seen and heard the distress of gaols, and had an earnest desire to relieve it in my own district as well as others. it was then asked me, if it was done at my own expence? i answered, undoubtedly. some conversation passed relative to gaolers taking off their prisoners irons; but that was private, and not at the bar of the house. "the above account, including that of garnish, which was from and _s._ to _s._ which i said was a cruel custom, and connived at and permitted by gaolers, was the whole of what passed at the house as to myself, except the great honour they did me in their thanks _nem. con._" this true patriot addressed the printer a second time, march , in the same year. "sir, "i shall set off for the gaols in westmoreland, cumberland, and northumberland, next monday, and also visit again some which i have already seen, likewise lancaster, chester, and shrewsbury, _if i am not taken off with the gaol distemper_; as dr. fothergill says, 'i carry my life in my hand, and it is a wonder i have not been taken off.' "the misery in gaols is great beyond description; sheriffs for many years not having set foot into the prisons of most of the counties in england. there are many of them (the felons wards i mean) dirty, infectious, miserable places; so that, instead of sending healthy useful hands to our colonies as transports out of our gaols, they become infectious, sickly, miserable objects: half of whom die on their passage; and many of those that arrive at the places of their destination infect the families they enter into. i saw lately in your paper, what i knew our colonies complained of from philadelphia: 'an act passed to prevent infectious diseases being brought into that province.' "another great evil in gaols is, that the poor debtors on the common side in most counties have not even the felons' county allowance of bread; and i have not found twelve people that have sued out their groats in all the county gaols; that benevolent act of george ii. being frustrated, as no attornies will, without pay, take a poor debtor's case in hand. these i have found some of the most pitiable objects in our gaols. "i am, &c. john howard." the result of the visits thus announced has long been before the publick, and that infinite improvement followed must be admitted; yet much still remains to be done, merely to obtain that order and cleanliness which the legislature has at various periods declared should be maintained in each prison throughout the kingdom. mr. neild, the worthy magistrate, has undertaken the task left incomplete by his exalted predecessor; and there cannot be a doubt that he has done incredible service to the criminal, and the debtor, most unaccountably immured within the _inclosures intended for the purpose of justice only_. the same distresses which accompany every severe winter recurred in , and the utmost exertions were made to alleviate them; when the corporation of london gave _l._ and several rich citizens from _l._ to _l._ each, to be distributed to poor housekeepers. this fund was augmented by the exertions of the sheriffs, aldermen, and deputies, who went from house to house soliciting contributions. the humane society, instituted for the recovery of persons supposed to be dead from the effect of disease, suffocation, and drowning, had arrived to that degree of importance in , as to be enabled to distribute several gold and silver medals, from a die executed by lewis pingo, from a design by dr. watkinson. the four gentlemen first honoured with this mark of distinction were dr. hawes, who had frequently advertised, before the society was formed, offering a reward to those who would call for his assistance in cases where the functions of life were suspended; and dr. cogan, his colleague, in establishing the first principles of the institution; alderman bull, president; and dr. watkinson. since the above period, the enterprising spirit and activity of dr. hawes has been constantly exerted in promoting the continuation of the humane society, which, though under royal patronage, derives very small pecuniary aid from the publick, compared with some institutions of less importance; nor has the legislature granted it a farthing; though, as the doctor once observed to me, there are benefactions recorded in the journals of the house of commons for a veterinary college, to recover horses from diseases[ :a]. sermons, and an annual dinner, with a procession of those recovered from death by the society, are substituted to obtain contributions; and i am happy to add, that they have always amounted, with other voluntary gifts, to a sum which has enabled the governors to render thousands of persons supremely blest by the restoration of their relatives from the relentless grave. similar institutions now existing throughout europe and america, are strong proofs of the honours due to the founders, hawes and cogan--honours to be paid by posterity. a most melancholy circumstance occurred in , which deprived the inhabitants of london of one of the best orators in the cause of benevolence they had ever possessed. the reader must be aware that i allude to the ignominious death of dr. dodd, whose conduct cannot but be allowed to have been inconsistent beyond parallel; a teacher of the most exalted benevolence, and one who practised it to the degree he taught; and yet a luxurious spendthrift, and a violator of the penal laws of his country, to support unjustifiable extravagance and splendour of living. when we reflect on the thousands of pounds his exertions _have_ collected, and _will yet_ collect, for the relief of penitent prostitutes, in the establishment (in conjunction with mr. dingley) of the magdalen hospital, and the society for the relief of prisoners confined for small debts; besides those, the fruits of his preaching on numerous occasions; we cannot but lament that mercy was withheld which _a nation_ solicited. his was a singular case--but enough--justice required his life; and death, the portion of forgery, closed the scene. we have now arrived at a period within the recollection of most of my readers; it will not therefore be necessary to notice every institution existing at present, the result of recent exertion; they are numerous beyond all former example. from the temporary relief afforded during severe winters, and the charities even to passing mendicancy, with that to individuals advertising for assistance, up to the incorporated societies for constant duration; all are successful, and none more so than the patriotic fund, established for relieving and rewarding military and naval sufferings and merit. exclusive of the various means, described in the preceding pages, for effecting the great work of alleviating the wants of mankind, there are others of established and permanent operation. i mean, the constant charitable bequests, continued even from the establishment of masses for the repose of the souls of the testators. in those the poor were always remembered; but the protestant, more disinterested, has long given the whole of his money to the wretched, and _required_ no prayers in return. were i to collect the items of bequests from the days of henry viii. to the present moment, this work would not contain them, and the reader would barely credit the enormous amount: and yet this is independent of the alms-houses and hospitals which we meet with in every direction, where many thousands are absolutely supported by the benevolence of those who have very long since paid the debt of nature. such are the effects of the general charity of the natives of london; such their attempts to smooth the path of life, and to render the person those services which are necessary to maintain its dignity and proportion. i am now compelled to turn from this grateful scene, and to exhibit what has been done by depravity and laxity of manners, to shorten life, and destroy the fine proportions of the citizen. footnotes: [ :a] gent. mag. [ :b] jour. of house of commons. [ :a] see the plate of the north side of the foundling. [ :b] gent. mag. the origin of the welsh society, and the subsequent charity school, may perhaps be dated from the celebration of the birth-day of the princess of wales, feb. , when several distinguished sons of st. david heard a sermon preached in their native language, by dr. lewis, at st. paul's, covent-garden; whence they adjourned to haberdashers hall, where, invigorated by repletion, the antient british society was planned for the double celebration of the prince's birth-day, and the commemoration of their patron saint. [ :a] original proposal. [ :a] statement of the trustees. [ :b] newspapers. [ :a] this royal donation is still annually repeated; and a collection under the king's letters patent is also made in all the parishes within the bills of mortality. [ :a] all these statements are from the daily papers. [ :a] statements in newspapers. [ :a] newspapers. [ :a] treasurer's statement. [ :a] see the view of this superb structure--seymour's london. [ :a] london chronicle. [ :a] london chronicle. [ :a] london chronicle. [ :a] london chronicle. [ :a] the worthy doctor died in december . see a tribute to his memory in gent. mag. vol. lxxviii. p. . chap. ii. anecdotes of depravity, from to . mankind may be universally divided into two classes, the honest and dishonest; for i admit of no medium. that those distinctions have existed from the very remotest periods, i believe no one will deny; therefore it is perfectly natural to suppose, that depraved and idle wretches, who would rather steal the effects of another than labour to acquire property for themselves, have infested london, from the hour in which an hundred persons inhabited it in huts or caverns. how those depredators on society were treated by the cits of very very very antient times is not worth enquiry; but that death was often inflicted cannot be doubted; and that might be effected by twenty different methods. strangulation was certainly used before the time of henry i. in london: punishment for crimes of inferior magnitude are always species of torture; to repeat the probable modes would be far from pleasant. whatever may have been the other inventions of the idle to obtain bread, that of begging in all its ramifications was the most antient; the fraternity of mendicants have resisted every attempt to dissolve their body, nor will they vanish till the last day shall remove every living creature from the surface of the earth. after the establishment of christianity, flocks of christians determined to devote themselves to the service of the lord _in their way_, and work no more; such were some orders of monks and friars mendicants! the monasteries afterwards, acting upon a mistaken idea of charity, gave alms, and fed the poor and idle indiscriminately at their gates: thus a wretch might invigorate his body with the viands of the abbots and monks in the day, and pass the night in attacks upon the defenceless traveller, perhaps often relieved in presence of the depredator by the blind religious. in vain have the monarch, the law, and the judge, from the days of the aborigines down to the present moment, exerted their authority and terrors; and i am compelled, for brevity's sake, to confine myself to the disgraceful acts of a single century. to mention the numbers who were condemned at the old bailey in years from , will be sufficient, without particularizing their crimes. years. condemned. executed. died after conviction --- --- reprieved in the mayoralty of sir francis child, , persons were indicted at the old bailey; of whom received sentence of death; of transportation; eight fined, imprisoned, or pilloried; four burnt in the hand; four whipped; and acquitted. in , ten pounds reward was offered by the clerk of the new river company, for the apprehension of persons who had wantonly tapped the pipes, and others that had cut the banks to let water on their own possessions. lotteries.--these pernicious contrivances to raise money were in full vigour at the commencement of the century. there was the "greenwich hospital adventure," sanctioned by an act of parliament, which the managers describe as "liable to none of the objections made against other lotteries, _as to the fairness_ of the drawing, it being not possible there should be any deceit in it, _as it has been suspected in others_." mr. sydenham's land lottery, who declared it was "found very difficult and troublesome for the adventurers for to search and find out what prizes they have come up in their number tickets, _from the badness of the print_, the _many errors in them_, and the _great quantity of the number of the prizes_:" the twelve-penny or nonsuch: and "the fortunatus." esquire sydenham's lady's gentlewoman obtained an estate worth _l. per annum_, in her master's lottery; but the unfortunate holders of blanks, suspecting foul play, advertized an intended meeting on the th january , for the purpose of entering into an investigation of their real or fancied wrongs. this produced a denial on the part of his trustees, but did not prevent the meeting from taking place, when it was unanimously resolved to appoint an eminent goldsmith in lombard-street cashier, for the receipt of subscriptions to carry their purposes into effect; which being accomplished, they exhibited a bill in chancery against the unfortunate squire[ :a]. guinea-dropping was practised in ; and it was customary for thieves to carry cocks into retired or vacant places to throw at them, in order to collect spectators, and empty their pockets. the following extract from the protestant mercury of february , , point out three of those places of iniquity: "last tuesday, a brewer's servant in southwark took his walks round _tower-hill_, _moor-fields_, and _lincoln's-inn-fields_, and knocked down so many cocks, that, by selling them again, he returned home twenty-eight shillings odd pence a richer man than he came out." in collecting materials for this portion of my review of london, order and regularity are unnecessary; cheats, impostors, knaves, and thieves, members of one great family, will be indiscriminately introduced, with their schemes and crimes to mark _them_, and the cullibility of the good citizens of london, a large portion of whom are ever ready to catch at the most silly and absurd baits, provided they happen to agree with their pursuits. money-lenders, those excellent members of society, the friends of youth, the alleviators of distress, who hold forth their thousands to the publick, merely with a view to accommodate the wants of their countrymen, and without the least wish of private advantage to themselves, were known to the inhabitants of this metropolis at the period from which i date my present researches. the reader will find a wonderful similarity in the ensuing advertisement to some of very recent date. "from our house, new tuttle-street, near the royal-oak, westminster, or young man's coffee-house, at charing-cross, in the morning. all gentlemen and others that have business in treasury, admiralty, or navy offices, or any of the courts of law or equity, may have it faithfully solicited. we buy and sell estates, _help persons to money_ on good security. we help persons to employments, &c. and have now several to be disposed of, of _l._ _l._ _l._ _l._ _l. per annum_[ :a]; any that shall give in timely notice of places to be disposed of shall be rewarded for the same. _and because many have been defrauded of considerable sums of money_ by one that lately printed from salisbury-court, fleet-street; that none may be served so that apply themselves to us, _nor the reputation of this undertaking ruined, because ill men have had the management of it_, we shall not take our gratuity, _till we have done their business_; which must be allowed to be a candid acknowledgment of _our intention_." in so populous a city as london, no place is sacred from the contrivances of sharpers. even plate used at the coronation feast of queen anne, in westminster-hall, april , was stolen, with table-linen and a great deal of pewter[ :b]. to second the operations of the royal proclamation for the suppression of vice, certain well-disposed citizens entered into the following agreement, to promote the reformation of manners. "we whose names are hereunto subscribed, out of a sense of the duty we owe to almighty god, in pursuance of his majesty's proclamation for the discouragement and prosecution of debauchery and prophaneness, and for the suppressing of them, do agree as followeth: "that we meet weekly at ----, under the penalty of ---- each default without a just cause; to consult how we may be most serviceable in promoting the execution of the laws against prophaneness and debauchery. that we use all proper means to prevail with men of all ranks to concur with us in this design, especially such as are under the obligation of oaths to do so; and in order to their acting vigorously therein, that we endeavour to persuade them to form themselves into societies, at least to have frequent meetings for this purpose. "that we encourage and assist officers in the discharge of their duty, of discovering disorderly houses, of taking up of offenders, and carrying them before the magistrates, and, moreover, endeavour to assist both magistrates and officers, by giving information ourselves as we have opportunity. "that, for order sake, every member in his turn be chairman (unless any desire to be excused) for four successive days of meeting; that as soon as four members are met, the chairman, or, in his absence, the next in order upon the list (that shall be made for that purpose) shall take his place: and that from that time to the breaking up of the meeting, we forbear all discourse of public news or our private affairs, as also all unnecessary disputes upon speculative and controversial points of religion. "that when any thing is proposed and seconded, the chairman shall put it to the question, which shall be determined by the majority; and such determination shall remain till altered by a majority upon another meeting. "that, if upon any matter in debate the voices are equal, the question shall be again proposed by the chairman at the same meeting, if more of the members come in, or otherwise at the next or some other meeting. "that it be part of the office of the chairman to take notice of the breach of any of our orders, to enquire of every member how he hath discharged the business that was allotted him at the last meeting, and what difficulties he hath met with, in order to find out proper remedies. to read over the agreement of this society once a month. to read over the minutes of what hath been resolved upon at the end of every meeting, and the list of the members; and to go or send to such as have been absent twice successively, without a just excuse known to some member of the society; and, the next time any such persons shall be present, the chairman for the time being shall put them in mind of the great importance of the business they are engaged in, and of the obligations they have laid themselves under by their subscriptions to attend the meetings of this society. "that we endeavour to find out proper persons to be brought into this society; and that no member shall be proposed for a member but when four or more of the society are present; and that none shall be admitted into this society till he hath been proposed by three several meetings, and are thought to be men of piety and temper; and that after any person hath been proposed a second time for a member, two persons shall be appointed by the major part of the society to make enquiry concerning his life and conversation. "that in cases of difficulty that shall occur, we consult the learned in the law, or other proper persons, that we by no means go further than the law will warrant us. "that we keep an exact account of our proceedings in a book kept for that purpose. "that the debates and resolutions of the society be kept secret; and, therefore, no person shall be admitted to be present at any debate, in any meeting, that is not a member, unless upon special occasion, and by agreement of the majority present. "that we look upon ourselves as under a peculiar obligation to pray for the reformation of the nation in general, and to implore the divine direction and blessing upon this our undertaking in particular[ :a]." every man may be considered as included within this class, who hazards a falsehood to forward his views, whether they are in the course of trade, or deviate into cheating. mr. sheridan, in the critick, forcibly exposes the various kinds of puffs used by tradesmen and authors; and he classes them very justly into the puff direct, indirect, &c. the first instance which occurs of a case in point, after , is the following from a hair-dresser, which fraternity is notorious for extreme modesty and truth in their addresses to the publick: "whereas a pretended hair-cutter, between the maypole in the strand and st. clement's church, hath, without any provocation, maliciously abused jenkin cuthbeartson behind his back, at several persons' houses, and at his own shop, which hath been very much to his disadvantage, by saying that he was a pitiful fellow and a blockhead, and that he did not understand how to cut hair or shave: i therefore, the said jenkin cuthbeartson, think myself obliged to justify myself, and _to let the world know_ that i do understand my trade so far, that i challenge the aforesaid pretended hair-cutter, or any that belongs to him, either to shave or cut hair, or any thing that belongs to the trade, for five or ten pounds, to be judged by two sufficient men of our trade, as witness my hand this th day of november, , jenkin cuthbeartson, king-street, westminster[ :a]." fellows who pretended to calculate nativities were to be met with in several parts of london at the same period: they sold ridiculous inventions which they termed _sigils_; and the possessor of those had but to fancy they would protect themselves and property, and the object of the conjurer was accomplished. almanack john obtained great celebrity in this art. it appears that he was a shoe-maker, and resided in the strand. this fellow, and others of his fraternity, preyed upon fools or very silly people only; their losses were therefore of little moment, and the turpitude of almanack john was not quite so great as that of the villains who affected illness and deformity, thus to rob the charitable, whose gifts would otherwise have been directed to the relief of the _real_ sufferer. the reader will presently perceive that, in one instance, the depravity of the community of beggars is but too stationary since . "that people may not be imposed upon by beggars who pretend to be lame, dumb, &c. which really are not so; this is to give notice, that the president and governors for the poor of london, pitying the case of one richard alegil, a boy of years of age, who pretended himself lame of both his legs, so that he used to go shoving himself along on his breech; they ordered him to be taken into their workhouse, intending to make him a taylor, upon which he confessed that his brother, a boy of years of age, about four years ago, by the advice of other beggars, contracted his legs, and turned them backwards, so that he never used them from that time to this, but followed the trade of begging; that he usually got _s._ a day, sometimes _s._; that he hath been all over the counties, especially the west of england, where his brother carried him on a horse, and pretended he was born so, and cut out of his mother's womb. he hath also given an account that he knows of other beggars that pretend to be dumb and lame, and of some that tie their arms in their breeches, and wear a wooden stump in their sleeve. the said president and governors have caused the legs of the said alegil to be set straight; he now has the use of them, and walks upright; they have ordered him to be put to spinning, and his brother to be kept to hard labour. several other able beggars are by their order taken up and set to work, and when brought into the workhouse have from _s._ to _l._ in their pockets." a person during the fair of had the audacity to advertise, that the spoils taken at vigo were to be seen for sixpence at his booth; and he imposed upon the public curiosity by exhibiting fictitious representations of an altar-piece of silver, with six angels in full proportion, four apostles supporting the four pillars, and four angels attending them, with each a lamp for incense in their hands; also a crown set with valuable stones, a holy-water pot garnished with filligree-work, &c. &c. "_all brought from vigo_, having been first lodged in the tower, _and never exposed before but in the tower_." john bonner, of short's gardens, had the barefaced effrontery, in , to offer his assistance, by necromancy, to those who had lost any thing at sturbridge fair, at churches or other assemblies, "he being paid for his labour and expences." the corporation of london aimed a severe blow, in the same year, at impostors and sturdy beggars, by offering a reward of one shilling each for such as were apprehended, and sent to the workhouse in bishopsgate-street. the post-boy of july , , contains the following paragraph: "it is thought proper to give notice of a common notorious cheat frequently practised by men who pretend to be soldiers, and others, in a game by them called cups and balls, particularly at the wall next the mewsgate, within the verge of the court." at a petty sessions for westminster held in april , an account was returned from the proper officers of the receipt of _l._ in the preceding six months, as penalties for profanations of the sabbath, swearing, and drunkenness. there was a place of resort for the vicious, called the cave, at highgate, which was indicted, and the indictment opposed by the proprietors, in a trial before lord chief justice parker, december ; but the defendants lost the cause, and the cave was suppressed, to the satisfaction, as a paragraph expresses it in the flying post, of those "who are enemies to such a nursery of profaneness and debauchery." a shocking instance of depravity occurred in march . a quaker potter, of the name of oades, who resided in gravel-lane, southwark, had four sons, whom he admitted into partnership with him, and at the same time suffered them to carry on business on their own account. this method of proceeding naturally led to jealousies and envy on both sides, which increased to a degree of rancour, that the father and sons appear to have acted towards each other as if no connection subsisted between them. the immediate cause of the horrid event that renders the tale odious, was the arrest of oades by his sons, for the violation of the peace, which they had bound him in a penalty to observe, and the consequent expulsion of their mother from her dwelling. this act attracted the notice of the populace, who seldom fail to adopt the right side of a question of justice, and as usual they began to execute summary vengeance on the house. the sons, an attorney, and another person, secured themselves within it, whence they read the riot act, and fired immediately after; a bullet entered the head of a woman, who fell dead; the assault then became more furious, and persons were sent for mr. lade, a justice; that gentleman bailed the father, and commanded the sons to submit in vain: he therefore found it necessary to send for a guard of soldiers, who arrived and commenced a regular siege, but the fortress was not stormed till two o'clock in the morning, when a courageous fellow scaled a palisade on the back part of the house, and admitted his party, who rushed in, and secured the garrison. the son of oades, who shot the woman, was tried for the murder, found guilty, but pardoned on his father's intercession, provided he banished himself. the villain who occasioned the ensuing advertisement mixed cruelty with his fraud. "whereas a person who went by the name of dr. cock, did about two months since come to mrs. robinson, in putney, being indisposed; he pretended to come from an acquaintance of hers from london to give her advice; accordingly he applied a plaster to her stomach, by which she has received a great deal of injury. he had for his fee ten shillings, and demanded six shillings for his plaster; it is supposed he took a handkerchief with him and a shirt. it appearing that nobody sent him, whoever can give notice of him, &c." the next sharper upon _public_ record worthy notice was jones, a footman, who had contrived to attract the favours of the lady of esquire dormer, of rousam, oxfordshire, a gentleman worth _l. per annum_; which being discovered by the injured husband, an action was commenced for crim. con. against the party-coloured enamorato, and pursued to conviction; but, just as sir thomas cross, the foreman of the jury, was about to pronounce the tremendous sound of _l._ damages, or, in other words, imprisonment for life, master jones rushed through the hall, flew to a boat, was rowed across the thames, and took sanctuary in the mint, before the lord chief justice's tip-staff could prevent him. an escape accomplished by a still greater villain in , was far more extraordinary: a highwayman, named goodman, had been apprehended with great exertion and difficulty, and brought to trial at the old bailey, where the jury pronounced him guilty; but, at the instant their verdict was given, he sprang over the enclosure, and eluded every endeavour to arrest his progress. such was the daring folly of this man, that he frequently appeared in public, and presuming on his supposed security, actually went to mackerel's quaker coffee-house in bartlett's-buildings, for the purpose of procuring the arrest of a carrier, to whom he had intrusted _l._ to be conveyed to his wife in the country, and who, supposing goodman would be hanged, had converted it to his own use: there he met an attorney by appointment, and stationed four desperadoes at the door armed with pistols, in order to repel any attempt at seizing him. the attorney, aware of his precaution, listened to the case of the carrier, and studiously avoided betraying him; but the instant goodman departed, he declared who his client was, upon which several persons watched the wretch to his place of concealment, where they attacked him, and he them, with the utmost resolution; after a severe conflict, in which the assailants were compelled to bruise him dreadfully, he was secured; but, throwing himself down in the streets, they were at last compelled to bind and carry him in a cart to prison: he was hanged not long after[ :a]. the mistress of child's coffee-house was defrauded of a considerable sum, in september , by an artful stratagem. she received a note by the penny-post, which appeared to come from dr. mead, who frequented her house; saying, that a parcel would be sent there for him from bristol, containing choice drugs, and begging her to pay the sum of _l._ _s._ to the bearer of it. the reader will probably anticipate the _denouement_; the bundle was brought, the money paid; the doctor declared his ignorance of the transaction, the parcel was opened, and the contents found to be ---- rags[ :a]. it is not often that thefts can be narrated which are calculated to excite a smile; and yet i am much mistaken if the reader doth not relax his risible faculties, when he is informed of a singular method of stealing wigs, practised in . this i present him _verbatim_ from the weekly journal of march . "the thieves have got such a villainous way now of robbing gentlemen, that they cut holes through the backs of hackney coaches, and take away their wigs, or fine head-dresses of gentlewomen; so a gentleman was served last sunday in tooley-street, and another but last tuesday in fenchurch-street; wherefore, this may serve for a caution to gentlemen or gentlewomen that ride single in the night-time, to sit on the fore-seat, which will prevent that way of robbing." the first notice of mr. law, the chief director of the royal bank at paris, that i have met with, was in august ; when it was said he had betted that the french state-bills would not fall _per cent._ within a year, and given louis to receive if he won; he offered the earl of stair for in the same way, which was refused; and the event proved, that the bills fell _per cent._ gaming was dreadfully prevalent in . this will be demonstrated by the effect of one night's search by the leet jury of westminster, who presented no less than houses to the justices for prosecution. the society for the reformation of manners published the ensuing effects of their labours for one year, ending in december . prosecuted for lewd and disorderly practices, . keeping of bawdy and disorderly houses, . exercising their trades or callings on the lord's-day, . profane swearing and cursing, . drunkenness, . keeping common gaming-houses, . we have now arrived at a grand æra of villainy, the golden harvest of scheming, in which mr. law acted the first part in france. a person under the signature of publicus, in the thursday's journal of december , , very justly observes: "if any of the days of us or our forefathers might be called the _projecting_ age, i think this is the time. if ever there was a nation that had been years ruining itself and recovered in a moment, this is the time. if ever a government paid its debts without money, and exchanged all the cash in the kingdom for bits of paper, which had neither anybody to pay them for, or any intrinsic fund to pay themselves, this is the time. if ever a credit was raised without a foundation, and built up to a height that not only was likely to fall, but indeed was impossible to stand, this is the time." speaking of mr. law, he says, "first, he has entirely restored credit in france; or, as it may be said, he has planted credit in a soil where credit never could thrive, and never did thrive before; i mean in a tyrannic absolute government, a thing inconsistent with credit, and the very name of it; for when was ever credit established to any degree, where the sovereign was able to seize upon the foundation on which it stood, by his absolute power, and at his pleasure. " dly, he has established such a bank, and so fortified it with an established settlement, and on such a stock, as nothing can come up to it in the world, except only the banks of london and amsterdam. " dly, he has erected a company immense and inimitable on a trifling fund, and the trifle made up of the most precarious things that could be then imagined, being state bills, town-house rents, and public funds, which in their own esteem were not at that time to be rated at above or _per cent._ nor would they have fetched more to have been sold then in open market; and these has he brought up to be worth _l. per cent._ in the same market where they were under _per cent._ before. the man that has done all this was here but a contemptible person, a silversmith's son at edinburgh, then a rake, then a soldier, then a kind of bully, then a murderer; he was tried at the old bailey for killing mr. wilson, commonly called _beau_ wilson, in a duel; he was condemned to be hanged, but found means to break out of newgate; some say he got out by a silver key, and from thence made his escape into france: there he lived without character and without employment, till entering into the schemes which he has since laid open, and talking freely of them, it came to the ears of the regent, who employing some men to talk with him, and they finding his head turned for great projects, he was heard by more considerable persons, and finally by the regent himself, with whom he established these just maxims as fundamentals; namely: that a fund of credit was equal to a fund of money. that credit might be raised upon personal funds, not upon the publick, because the power was absolute. upon these foundations he first erected the royal bank; which, having been done by a subscription, and having a sufficient fund in specie to answer all the bills on demand, began to take, and having stood several severe shocks from the attempts of merchants and others to ruin its reputation, established itself upon the punctual discharge of its first credit, till by time it increased to such a magnitude as we now see it, being able to pay bills as was tried by its enemy for a million and a quarter, sterling, in one day. this bank, being thus past the first hazards, stands too fast for the power of art to shake it; and immense sums being lodged with them, their payments are much safer than the money in any man's pocket. "this raised mr. law's fame to the pitch it is now at, and set him above the power of all his enemies. from thence he grounded his mississippi project, got it filled up, joined it to the east-india company; undertook the whole coinage, embraced several other projects, as a royal fishery, the tobacco farm, and at last the trade to norway for naval stores, deals, timber, &c. "it is true that a stock advanced to _per cent._ may undertake any thing; but depend upon it, a stock advanced to _per cent._ upon no foundation, must at last come to nothing, and the only use is to raise estates upon the first advance of it; and perhaps it may appear at last, that the imaginary value of the stock declining in the humours of the times, it will by no means be able to support itself, which, whenever it happens, blows it up all at once." such were the prophetic reasonings of our observer, which the event fully justified by the ruin of thousands in england. to authenticate this assertion, i shall present the reader a succession of paragraphs from the newspapers, pointing out the ramifications from the parent _stock_, and the facility with which the publick were imposed upon. "here has been the oddest bite put upon the town that ever was heard of. we having of late had several new subscriptions set on foot, for raising great sums of money for erecting offices of insurance, &c.; at length, some gentlemen, to convince the world how easy it was for projectors to impose upon mankind, set up a pretended office in exchange-alley, for the receiving subscriptions for raising a million of money to establish an _effectual_ company of insurers as they called it. upon which, the day being come to subscribe, the people flocked in, and paid down _s._ for every _l._ they subscribed, pursuant to the company's proposals; but, after some hundreds had so subscribed (that the thing might be fully known), the gentlemen were at the expence to advertise, that the people might have their money again without any deductions; and to let them know that the persons who paid in their money, contented themselves with a fictitious name, set by an unknown hand to the receipts delivered out for the money so paid in; and that the said name was composed only of the first letters of six persons names concerned in the said publication." weekly packet, january , - . the original weekly journal immediately after observes: "it was the observation of a very witty knight many years ago, that the english people were something like a flight of birds at a barn door; shoot among them and kill ever so many, the rest shall return to the same place in a very little time, without any remembrance of the evil that had befallen their fellows. thus the english, though they have had examples enough in these latter times of people ruined by engaging in projects, yet they still fall in with the next that appears. thus, after neal's lottery, how many were trumped up in a year or two's time, till the legislature itself was fain to suppress them. sometime after this, there was a new project set on foot for the prodigious improvement of small sums of money, in which they who put in, for example, _l._ must by the proposal make above _l._ of it in a year's time. people never examined how they could perform this proposal; but, blind with the hopes of gain, threw their money into the denmark-court office in so extravagant a manner, that, if the humour could have gone on, they must have had passed through their hands in a few months half the cash of the nation. the success of this office begot many more in all parts of the town, all which ended in the ruin of many families. "our cunning men are now carrying on a cause very much like these that are past, but infinitely more extravagant than all of them; though i believe it will prove less detrimental than any of them, because they are already multiplied to that degree, that the sharpers, _alias_ projectors, are infinitely too numerous for the bubbles; since the stocks they have proposed to raise amounts to , , _l._; above twice as much as the current coin of the nation, nay more than the third-part of all the payments the circulation of that current coin performs in the whole kingdom; but, because the placing these projects all in one view must certainly be useful to your readers, i here send you an abstract of them. "for a general insurance on houses and merchandize, at the three tuns, swithin's-alley, , , _l._ for building and buying ships to let or freight, at garraway's, exchange-alley, , , _l._ to be lent by way of loan on stock at garraway's, , , _l._ for granting annuities by way of survivorship, and providing for widows, orphans, &c. at the rainbow, cornhill, , , _l._ for the raising the growth of raw silk, , , _l._ for lending upon the deposit of goods, stock, annuities, tallies, &c. at robin's, exchange-alley, , , _l._ for settling and carrying on a trade to germany, , , _l._ at the rainbow. for insuring of houses and goods from fire, at sadlers-hall, , , _l._ for carrying on a trade to germany, , , _l._ at the virginia coffee-house. for securing goods and houses from fire, at the swan and rummer, , , _l._ for buying and selling of estates, public stocks, government securities, and to lend money, , , _l._ for insuring ships and merchandize, , , _l._ at the marine coffee-house, birchin-lane. for purchasing government securities, and lending money to merchants to pay their duties with, , , _l._ for carrying on the _undertaking_ business, for _furnishing funerals_, , , _l._ at the fleece-tavern, cornhill. for carrying on trade between great-britain and ireland, and the kingdoms of portugal and spain, , , _l._ for carrying on the coal-trade from newcastle to london, , , _l._ cooper's coffee-house. for preventing and suppressing of thieves and robbers, and for insuring all persons goods from the same, , , _l._ at cooper's." here ceases the enumeration of the journalist, but his hiatus shall be supplied faithfully from other original advertisements. a grand dispensary, , , _l._ at the buffaloe's-head. subscription for a sail-cloth manufactory in ireland, at the swan and hoop, cornhill. , , _l._ for a trade to norway and sweden, to procure pitch, tar, deals, and oak, at waghorn's. for buying lead mines and working them, ship-tavern. a subscription for manufacturing ditties or manchester stuffs of thread and cotton, mulford's. , , _l._ for purchasing and improving commons and waste lands, hanover coffee-house. a royal fishery, skinners-hall. a subscription for effectually settling the islands of blanco and saltortugas. for supplying the london-market with cattle, garraway's. for smelting lead-ore in derbyshire, swan and rummer. for manufacturing of muslins and calico, portugal coffee-house. , , _l._ for the purchase of pitch, tar, and turpentine, castle-tavern. , , _l._ for importing walnut-tree from virginia, garraway's. , , _l._ for making crystal mirrors, coach glasses, and for sash windows, cole's. for purchasing tin and lead mines in cornwall and derbyshire, half-moon tavern. for preventing the running of wool, and encouraging the wool manufactory, king's arms. for a manufactory of rape-seed oil, fleece-tavern. , , _l._ for an engine to supply deal with fresh water, &c. black swan. , , _l._ at the sun tavern, for importing beaver fur. for making of joppa and castile soap, castle tavern. , , _l._ for exporting woollen stuffs, and importing copper, brass, and iron, and carrying on a general foundery, virginia coffee-house. for making pasteboard, packing-paper, &c. montague coffee-house. a _hair_ copartnership, permits _s._ _d._ each, at the ship tavern, paternoster-row; "_by reason all places near the exchange are so much crowded at this juncture_." for importing masts, spars, oak, &c. for the navy, ship tavern. "this day, the th instant, at sam's coffee-house, behind the royal exchange, at three in the afternoon, a book will be opened for entering into a joint-copartnership for carrying _on a thing_ that will turn to the advantage of the concerned." for importing oils and materials for the woollen manufactory, permits _s._ each, rainbow. for a settlement in the island of st. croix, cross keys. improving the manufacture of silk, sun tavern. for purchasing a manor and royalty in essex, garraway's. , , _l._ for buying and selling lands, and lending on landed security, garraway's. for raising and manufacturing madder in great britain, pennsylvania coffee-house. shares for discounting pensions, &c. globe tavern. , , _l._ for improving all kinds of malt-liquors, ship tavern. , , _l._ for importing linens from holland, and flanders lace. a society for landing and entering goods at the custom-house on commissions, robin's. for making of glass and bottles, salutation tavern. the grand american fishery, ship and castle. , , _l._ for a friendly society, for purchasing merchandize, and lending money, king's-arms. , , _l._ for purchasing and improving fens in lincolnshire, sam's. improving soap-making, mulford's coffee-house. for making english pitch and tar, castle tavern. , , _l._ for improving lands in great-britain, pope's-head. a woollen manufactory in the north of england, swan and rummer. a paper manufactory, hamlin's coffee-house. for improving gardens, and raising fruit-trees, garraway's. for insuring seamen's wages, sam's coffee-house. the north-america society, swan and rummer. the gold and silver society. , , _l._ for manufacturing baize and flannel, virginia coffee-house. for extracting silver from lead, vine tavern. , , _l._ for manufacturing china and delft wares, rainbow. , , _l._ for importing tobacco from virginia, salutation tavern. for trading to barbary and africa, lloyd's. for the clothing and pantile trade, swan and hoop. making iron with pit-coal. a copartnership for buying and selling _live hair_, castle tavern. insurance office for horses, dying natural deaths, stolen, or disabled, crown tavern, smithfield. a rival to the above for , , _l._ at robin's. insurance office for servants' thefts, &c. shares of _l._ each, devil tavern. for tillage and breeding cattle, cross-keys. for furnishing london with hay and straw, great james's tavern. for bleaching coarse sugars to a fine colour without fire or loss of substance, fleece. , , _l._ for a perpetual motion, by means of a wheel moving by force of its own weight, ship tavern. a copartnership for insuring and increasing children's fortunes, fountain tavern. , , _l._ for manufacturing iron and steel, black swan tavern. , , _l._ for dealing in lace, &c. &c. &c. sam's. , , _l._ for a royal fishery of great-britain, black swan. , , _l._ to be lent upon pledges, blue-coat coffee-house. turnpikes and wharfs, sword-blade coffee-house. for the british alum works, salutation. , , _l._ for erecting salt-pans in holy island, john's coffee-house. , , _l._ for a snuff manufactory, garraway's. , , _l._ for building and rebuilding houses, globe tavern. the reader will find that i have given him the titles of _ninety_ of these symptoms of public phrenzy, exclusive of the south-sea scheme[ :a]. such of the projects as have not mentioned millions, appear to have been forlorn wights, who were contented perforce to receive the few loose pounds left in the pockets of the subscribers, by those whose aggregate sums amount to _one hundred and ten millions_. the sufferers in this monstrous scene of wickedness and folly could not plead ignorance or deception; the baits were so clumsily affixed to the hooks, that the journalists were continually employed in warning the publick, sometimes seriously, and frequently piercing them with the keenest shafts of ridicule: sir richard steele endeavoured to warn the maniacs of the south-sea stock, fruitlessly. "notwithstanding what has been published, that the annuitants would not subscribe their annuities in the south-sea stock, we find that they now run in crowds to subscribe them, though they know not how much stock they are to have. some people say as much as will make years' purchase; but this is uncertain. it was, indeed, expected that before the company would take those subscriptions, they would have given notice of it in the gazette, and have put up advertisements at their house and at the royal exchange, at least eight days before; but it seems the annuitants have such a good opinion of the directors of the south-sea, that without this they come and surrender their all as it were, leaving it to the pleasure, discretion, and honour of the directors, to give them as much stock as they shall think fit. the like, we suppose, never was heard of before. it is said there has already been above , _l. per annum_ subscribed. the reason of people running to it in such haste is, that it has been whispered the first subscribers would receive a greater advantage than those that shall stay longer. a million has also been subscribed, at the rate of _l. per cent._ the money to be paid in three years' time, but they are to have the benefit of the next half year's dividend; by this last subscription the company will get , , _l._ of money; and it is said they will shortly take another subscription at _l._ to pay in seven years, and to have the next half year's dividend; by which means they will get, together with those before, above millions of money. in all appearance, the company will carry every thing before them; for we see that, notwithstanding what has been said against their stock by sir richard steele and others, that people are as eager for it as if nothing had been said against it. those fine writers might as well have attempted to stop the tide under london-bridge, as to stop the people from buying or subscribing in that stock: as to the first of these, they know something of what they do, but the annuitants run blindfold into the hands of the directors, as if they should say: 'gentlemen, we have so many _l._ or _l. per annum_ in the annuities for years; we know you to be both just and honourable, give us as much of your south-sea stock as you please, we oblige ourselves to be content with whatever you shall give us;' and this is, in short, the sum and substance of the case." london journal, may , . the weekly packet of the same date adds: "the subscriptions that were lately carried on for raising more millions of money than all europe can afford, are not as yet quite dead, but are very much withered by the breath of the senate, or a nipping blast from westminster. it is observed, that many of those projects are so ridiculous and chimerical, that it is hard to tell which is most to be wondered at, the impudence of those that make the proposals, or the stupid folly of those that subscribe to them; yet many a gudgeon hath been caught in the net, though one would think that, with half an eye, they might discern the cheat. when these bites can no longer go on with their bubbles, happy will be the consequence to many honest but unthinking men that stand in danger to be drawn in by them; but unhappy to themselves that they have been used to such dishonest ways of living, and hardly will take up with any course of life that is not so; insomuch that it is feared, as one says, that many of them will go out a marauding; then stand clear the bristol mail." on the th of june, the newspapers intimated the intentions of parliament, directed to the prevention of any farther mischief from schemes and stock-jobbing; and yet, so willing were people to be ruined, that the london journal of the th declares: "the hurry of our stock-jobbing bubblers, especially, has been so great this week, that it has even exceeded all that ever was known before. the subscriptions are innumerable; and so eager all sorts of people have been to engage in them, how improbable or ridiculous soever they have appeared, that there has been nothing but running about from one coffee-house to another, and from one tavern to another, to subscribe, and without examining what the proposals were. the general cry has been, 'for g--'s sake let us but subscribe to something, we do not care what it is!' so that, in short, many have taken them at their words, and entered them adventurers in some of the grossest cheats and improbable undertakings that ever the world heard of: and yet, by all these, the projectors have got money, and have had their subscriptions full as soon as desired." the auspicious th of june at length arrived, which gave the force of law to the following words: "and it is further enacted, by the authority aforesaid, that if any merchant or trader, after the th day of june , shall suffer any particular damage in his, her, or their trade, commerce, or their lawful occasions, by occasion or means of any undertaking, or attempt, matter, or thing, by this act declared to be unlawful as aforesaid, and will sue to be relieved therein: then, and in every such case, such merchant or trader shall and may have his remedy for the same, by an action or actions, to be grounded upon this statute, against the persons, societies, or partnerships, or any of them, who, contrary to this act, shall be engaged or interested in any such unlawful undertaking or attempt; and any such action and actions shall be heard and determined in any of his majesty's courts of record, wherein no essoign shall be allowed." this necessary act was faintly opposed in an attempt to evade its penalties, by the projectors terming themselves and their subscribers co-partners; but the interposition of the legislature stamped all their schemes with discredit, and the elopement of several principals utterly destroyed the contrivances of those who dared popular vengeance by keeping their posts. "the destruction of the bubbles has been a very heavy blow to many families here, and some are entirely ruined by them. there appeared the utmost consternation in exchange-alley, the day the act for suppressing them took place, which, because of the confusion and terror it struck among those brethren in iniquity, they called the day of judgment. it might be well indeed with many of them, if no future inquisition would be made into their conduct in this matter, though, if so, they would not wholly escape; for many of those who have been the most assiduous in drawing other poor wretches in to their ruin have, besides their wealth, acquired an infamy they can never wipe off; and as the rage of those who have drunk deep of the delusion is at this time pretty great, the others do not seem fond of appearing too much in public for the present; they being followed with the reproaches, threats, and bitterest curses, of the poor people they have deluded to their destruction. so that if all of them escape the resentment of the populace, it must be more owing to the care of the magistracy, than the want of will or desperation in the injured." london journal, july . a waggish scale-maker ventured, at the same time, into exchange-alley, at the very height of business, with his right hand extended, holding a pair of scales, exclaiming, "make room for justice: i sell justice, who buys justice _here_?" and the butchers' boys, actuated by the same, though less civilized principle, made a tumultuous sham funeral for the entertainment of the vicinity. although this great point was accomplished, the grand fortress yet remained to be subdued. applebee's journal of august , says, "our south-sea equipages increase every day; the city ladies buy south-sea jewels; hire south-sea maids; and take new country south-sea houses; the gentlemen set up south-sea coaches, and buy south-sea estates, that they neither examine the situation, the nature or quality of the soil, or price of the purchase, only the annual rent and the title: for the rest, they take all by the lump, and give to years' purchase. this has brought so many estates to market, that the number of land-jobbers begin to increase to a great degree, almost equal to the stock-jobbers we had before." on the th of august, the lords justices gave positive orders to the attorney-general, to bring writs of _scire facias_ against the york-buildings company, the lustring, the english copper, and welsh copper and lead companies, or any others that persisted in their endeavours to evade the law; and the royal proclamation issued in aid of it. government received numberless adventitious aids in their exertions. pamphlets, paragraphs, and calculations, proving the losses that must follow from the monstrous price of _per cent._ for south-sea stock; issued in shoals from the press; and, as usual, much malignity and some wit composed the ingredients. one scrap of doggrel may be worth inserting: in london stands a famous pile, and near that pile an alley, where merry crowds for riches toil, and wisdom stoops to folly. here sad and joyful, high and low, court fortune for her graces, and as she smiles or frowns, they show their gestures and grimaces. here stars and garters too appear among our lords the rabble; to buy and sell, to see and hear, the jews and gentiles squabble. here crafty courtiers are too wise for those who trust to fortune: they see the cheat with clearer eyes, who peep behind the curtain. our greatest ladies hither come, and ply in chariots daily, oft pawn their jewels for a sum, to venture it in the alley, young harlots, too, from drury-lane, approach the 'change in coaches, to fool away the gold they gain by their obscene debauches. long heads may thrive by sober rules, because they think, and drink not; but headlongs are our thriving fools, who only drink, and think not. the lucky rogues, like spaniel dogs, leap into south-sea water, and there they fish for golden frogs, not caring what comes after. 'tis said that alchemists of old could turn a brazen kettle, or leaden cistern, into gold, that noble tempting metal; but if it here may be allow'd to bring in great with small things, our cunning south-sea, like a god, turns nothing into all things. what need have we of indian wealth, or commerce with our neighbours, our constitution is in health, and riches crown our labours: our south-sea ships have golden shrouds, they bring us wealth, 'tis granted; but lodge their treasure in the clouds, to hide it till it's wanted. o britain, bless thy present state, thou only happy nation, so oddly rich, so madly great, since bubbles came in fashion. successful rakes exert their pride, and count their airy millions; whilst homely drabs in coaches ride, brought up to town on pillions. few men who follow reason's rules grow fat with south-sea diet; young rattles and unthinking fools, are those that flourish by it. old musty jades and pushing blades, who've least consideration, grow rich apace, whilst wiser heads are struck with admiration. a race of men who t'other day lay crush'd beneath disasters, are now by stock brought into play, and made our lords and masters. but should our south-sea babel fall, what numbers would be frowning; the losers then must ease their gall, by hanging or by drowning. five hundred millions notes and bonds, our stocks are worth in value; but neither lie in goods or lands, or money, let me tell you; yet, though our foreign trade is lost, of mighty wealth we vapour; when all the riches that we boast, consist in scraps of paper. october , south-sea stock had fallen to ; on the th to . the consternation occasioned by this event to those who had purchased at , may readily be conceived. the saturday's post of the st remarks: "it is impossible to express the vast alterations made by the sudden and unaccountable fall of the south-sea stock, as well as other stocks; some few of the dealers in them, indeed, had happily secured themselves before the storm arose; but the far greater number who are involved in this public calamity, appear with such dejected looks, that a man of little skill in the art of physiognomy may easily distinguish them. "exchange-alley sounds no longer of thousands got in an instant; but, on the contrary, all corners of the town are filled with the groans of the afflicted; and they who lately rode in great state to that famous mart of money, now condescend to walk the streets on foot, and, instead of adding to their equipages, have at once lost their estates. and even those of the trading rank who talked loudly of retiring into the country, purchasing estates, there building fine houses, and in every thing imitating their betters, are now become bankrupts, and have, by necessity, shut up their shops, because they could not keep them open any longer; however, for the comfort of such whose condition will admit of a remedy, it is said, a gentleman has formed a scheme for the relief of those concerned." mist's journal contains a paragraph, said to have been copied from a work, intituled, "the lord knows what, by the lord knows who;" which seems to place the south-sea stock in a true light: "i shall make a familiar simile, which every reader may carry in his mind without the help of figures, and which, i think, has a very near resemblance to the south-sea scheme, as it has been executed: _viz._ a, having _l._ stock in trade, though pretty much in debt, gives it out to be worth _l._ on account of many privileges and advantages to which he is entitled. b, relying on his great wisdom and integrity, sues to be admitted a partner on those terms, and accordingly brings _l._ into the partnership. the trade being afterwards given out or discovered to be very improving, c comes in at _l._; and afterwards d, at _l._; and the capital is then completed to _l._ if the partnership had gone on no farther than a and b, then a had got and b had lost _l._; if it had stopt at c, a had got and c had lost _l._; and b had been as he was before. but d also coming in, a gains _l._ and b _l._ and c neither gains nor loses, but d loses _l._ indeed, if a could show that the said capital was intrinsically worth , _l._, there would be no harm done to d, and b and c would have been much obliged to him. but if the capital at first was worth but _l._ and increased only by the subsequent partnerships, it must then be acknowledged that b and c have been imposed on in their turns; and that unfortunate, thoughtless d pays the piper." i shall conclude my notices of the money-making schemes of , with a beautiful invocation written by mr. philips: "o eunomius (earl cowper), oraculous in thy speech! happy had it been for thy country if thy wisdom and integrity could have prevailed over the rashness of some, and the avarice of others! hereafter may'st thou never speak in vain; and may thy counsels help to remedy those evils they might have prevented! may the king hasten his return to his deluded, abused subjects, and the council of the nation be speedily summoned for the redress of the land! in the mean time let us mutually bear with, and assist one another in our present necessities: and since we are as free, though not so rich, a people as we have been; and still claim, as our birthright, the liberty to debate, to speak, to write manfully for the public good; let us not be dejected like our neighbours, after whose inventions we have gone astray, not sorrow, even as others who have no hope. "have we been delivered from the curse of arbitrary power; have we been preserved from the destruction of the sword, the rage of fire, the scourge of pestilence, and the ghastly terrors of famine, to suffer by the mean artifices of money-changers? o my fellow citizens, you have joined with the spoilers; yet have you not added to your stores. let me print the remembrance of your past inadvertency upon your hearts, that it may abide as a memorial to you and to your children; that deceivers may not hereafter inherit your possessions. and whereunto shall i liken our past inadvertency, that it may abide as a memorial to us and to our children? o my fellow-citizens, we have waged a civil war throughout the land; who hath not committed hostilities against his neighbour, and what hath it profited? the wealth, the inheritance of the island, are transferred to the meanest of the people; those chiefly have gained who had nothing to lose: the nobility, the gentry, the merchants, have been a prey to the idle, the licentious, the spendthrifts; men whose habitations were not known. all the calamities have we felt of a civil war, bloodshed only excepted: they who abounded suffer want. the industry, the trade of the nation, has been suspended, and even arts and sciences have languished in the general confusion: the very women have been exposed to plunder, whose condition is the more deplorable, because they are not acquainted with the methods of gain to repair their broken fortunes. some are driven from their country, others forced into confinement, some are weary of life; and others there are who can neither be comforted nor recovered to the use of reason. had his majesty been present to see the wild proceedings of the people, his goodness would have saved us from these extremities; for though a king can, in his absence, delegate his power and authority, yet can he not delegate his wisdom and his justice." immediately after the disclosure of the shocking villainy practised by stock-jobbers and the south-sea directors, another impostor was exposed to public view, and the charity that had voluntarily flown into his pockets turned to more worthy channels. it is true, the fellow was a little villain, but his arts may serve as a beacon to the unwary. this wretch pretended to be subject to epileptic fits, and would fall purposely into some dirty pool, whence he never failed to be conveyed to a dry place, or to receive handsome donations; sometimes he terrified the spectators with frightful gestures and convulsive motions, as if he would beat his head and limbs to pieces, and, gradually recovering, receive the rewards of his performance; but the frequency of the exploit at length attracted the notice of the police, by whom he was conveyed in a dreadful fit to the lord mayor, in whose presence the symptoms continued with the utmost violence; that respectable magistrate, undertaking the office of physician, prescribed the compter, and finally the workhouse, where he had no sooner arrived, than, finding it useless to counterfeit, he began to amend, and beat his hemp with double earnestness. a brother in iniquity went to as many as twenty taverns in one afternoon, the landlords of which were ordered by him to prepare a supper for three officers of the guards, and to pay him a shilling for his trouble, and charge it to the officers. the following report of a committee was made to his majesty's justices of the peace for the county of middlesex, in their general quarter sessions, assembled . "in pursuance of an order made in the last quarter sessions held for this county; whereby it was referred to us, among others, to enquire into the number of houses and places within such parts of this town and county as are therein mentioned, where geneva and other strong waters are sold by retail, and the mischiefs occasioned thereby: we, whose names are subscribed, do hereby certify, that by the returns of the high and petty constables, made upon their oaths, it appears there are within the weekly bills of mortality, and such other parts of this county as are now by the contiguity of buildings become part of this town, exclusive of london and southwark, houses and shops, wherein geneva or other strong waters are sold by retail. and, although this number is exceeding great, and far beyond all proportion to the real wants of the inhabitants (being in some parishes every tenth house, in others every seventh, and in one of the largest every fifth house), we have great reason to believe it is very short of the true number, there being none returned but such who sell publicly in shops or houses, though it is known there are many others who sell by retail, even in the streets and highways, some on bulks and stalls set up for that purpose, and others in wheelbarrows, who are not returned; and many more who sell privately in garrets, cellars, back-rooms, and other places not publicly exposed to view, and which thereby escaped the notice of our officers; and yet there have been a considerable number lately suppressed, or obliged to leave off, by the justices within their parishes, though it has proved of no effect, having only served to drive those who before were used to these liquors into greater shops, which are now to be seen full of poor people from morning to night. "but in this number of are included such victuallers who sell geneva or other strong waters, as well as ale and beer: though it is highly probable, from the great and sudden decay of the brewing-trade, without any diminution in the number of victuallers, that the quantities of strong waters now drank in alehouses is vastly increased of late beyond what was usual; and it appears by the constables' returns, where they are distinguished, that the number of geneva and other strong water shops are fully equal to the number of alehouses, and rather exceed than otherwise. "it is with the deepest concern your committee observe the strong inclination of the inferior sort of people to these destructive liquors; and yet, as if that were not sufficient, all arts are used to tempt and invite them. all chandlers, many tobacconists, and several who sell fruit or herbs in stalls or wheelbarrows, sell geneva; and many inferior tradesmen begin now to keep it in their shops for their customers; whereby it is scarce possible for soldiers, seamen, servants, or others of their rank, to go any where without being drawn in, either by those who sell it, or by their acquaintance they meet with in the streets, who generally begin with inviting them to a dram, which is every where near at hand; especially where, of all other places, it ought to be kept at the greatest distance; near churches, work-houses, stables, yards, and markets. "your committee, after having informed themselves as well as they were able of the numbers of those houses, proceeded to enquire according to your directions into the mischiefs arising from them, and from the immoderate use of these liquors, and more especially geneva; and those appear to be endless and innumerable, affecting not only particular persons and families, but also the trade of the nation and the public welfare. "with respect to particular persons; it deprives them of their money, time, health, and understanding, weakens and enfeebles them to the last degree; and yet, while under its immediate influence, raises the most violent and outrageous passions, renders them incapable of hard labour, as well as indisposes them to it, ruins their health, and destroys their lives; besides the fatal effects it has on their morals and religion. and among the women (who seem to be almost equally infected) it has this farther effect, by inflaming their blood, and stupifying their senses, to expose them an easy prey to the attacks of vicious men; and yet many of them are so blind to these dismal consequences, that they are often seen to give it to their youngest children, even to such whom they carry in their arms. "with regard to their families, this pernicious liquor is still more fatal: whilst the husband, and perhaps his wife also, are drinking and spending their money in geneva-shops, their children are starved and naked at home, without bread to eat, or clothes to put on, and either become a burden to their parishes, or, being suffered to ramble about the streets, are forced to beg while they are children, and learn as they grow up to pilfer and steal; which your committee conceive to be one of the chief causes of the vast increase of thieves and pilferers of all kinds, notwithstanding the great numbers who have been transported by virtue of the excellent law made for that purpose. under this head may also be added, the common practice of pawning their own and children's clothes (which exposes them to all the extortions of pawnbrokers), and their running in debt, and cheating by all the ways and means they can devise, to get money to spend in this destructive liquor, which generally ends in the husband's being thrown into a gaol, and his whole family on the parish. and this your committee conceive to be one of the principal causes of the great increase of beggars and parish poor, notwithstanding the high wages now given to all sorts of workmen and servants. "and lastly, with regard to trade, and the public welfare, the consequences are yet more ruinous and destructive. it has been already observed, that the constant use of strong-waters, and particularly of geneva, never fails to produce an invincible aversion to work and labour; this, by necessary consequence, deprives us of great numbers of useful hands, which would otherwise be employed to the advantage of the publick. and as to those who yet do work sometimes, or follow any employment, the loss of their time in frequent tippling, the getting often drunk in the morning, and the spending of their money this way, must very much cramp and straiten them, and so far diminish their trade, and the profit which would accrue from thence to the publick, as well as to themselves. but it is farther to be observed, that although the retail trade of wine and ale is generally confined to vintners and victuallers, this of geneva is now sold, not only by distillers and geneva-shops, but by most other inferior traders, particularly by all chandlers, many weavers, and several tobacconists, dyers, carpenters, gardeners, barbers, shoemakers, labourers, and others, there being in the hamlet of bethnal-green only above weavers who sell this liquor; and these and other trades which make our manufactures, generally employing many journeymen and artificers under them, who having always this liquor ready at hand, are easily tempted to drink freely of it, especially as they may drink the whole week upon score, and perhaps without minding how fast the score rises upon them, whereby at the week's end they find themselves without any surplusage to carry home to their families, which of course must starve, or be thrown on the parish. and as this evil (wherein the masters may perhaps find their own account, by drawing back the greatest part of their workmen's wages) will naturally go on increasing, and extend to most other trades where numbers of workmen are employed, your committee apprehend, it may (if not timely prevented) affect our manufactures in the most sensible manner, and be of the last consequence to our trade and welfare. "under this head it may be proper also to take some notice of the pernicious influence, the permitting of chandlers, and other inferior trades, to deal in this destructive liquor, or any other strong-waters, has in this town, on the servants of the nobility and gentry; it being too common a practice among chandlers and others, where servants are continually going on one occasion or other, to tempt and press them to drink, and even to give them drams of this liquor, which we may reasonably suppose must be paid for by the masters, either in the price, weight, or measure of the goods they are sent for, and which, besides the immediate damage, encourages them to wrong their masters in greater matters, and, as we conceive, may be one cause of the great complaints that are made against servants. "and if we may judge what will happen in other workhouses now erecting, by what has already happened by that of st. giles's in the fields, we have reason to fear, that the violent fondness and desire of this liquor, which unaccountably possesses all our poor, may prevent in great measure the good effects proposed by them, and which in all other respects seem very hopeful and promising; it appearing by the return from holborn division, wherein that workhouse is situate, that notwithstanding all the care that has been taken, geneva is clandestinely brought in among the poor there, and that they will suffer any punishment or inconveniences rather than live without it, though they cannot avoid seeing its fatal effects by the death of those amongst them who had drank most freely of it; and it is found by experience there, that those who use this liquor are not only the most lazy and unfit for work, but also the most turbulent and ungovernable, and on that account several of them have been turned out, and left to struggle with the greatest wants abroad, which they submit to, rather than they will discover who brought in the geneva to them, though they have been offered to be forgiven on that condition. "your committee, having thus laid before you the numbers of the houses and places wherein geneva and other strong-waters are sold, as also some of the many mischievous effects derived from them, submit to the consideration and judgment of the sessions, how far it is in their power, and by what means, to suppress this great nuisance; or whether any, and what application to superiors may be proper in order to a more effectual remedy. "_jan. , ._ "john milner, isaac tillard, r. thornhill, thomas pinder, john mercer, wm. cotesworth, john ellis." the society for the reformation of manners published a statement of their proceedings almost immediately after, by which it appears, they had prosecuted from december , , to december , , persons for keeping lewd and disorderly houses, swearing, drunkenness, gaming, and proceeding in their usual occupations on sundays. the total amount of their prosecutions for years amounted to the amazing number of , [ :a]. a grand masqued ball, given at the opera-house in february , commenced at o'clock on monday night the th; deep play at hazard succeeded, when one of the company threw for _l._ and lost; and still holding the box without paying, threw a second time for _l._ with no better success; the winners then insisted upon a deposit of the money, which was complied with in four supposed roleaus, of guineas each; but, some suspicions arising, they were opened and found to be rolls or parcels of halfpence; the sharper was immediately seized and committed to the custody of an officer of the guard, whom he soon terrified into a release, by declaring he was a lawyer thoroughly acquainted with the acts concerning unlawful games at hazard, and, at the same time, advising him not to incur the penalties usually inflicted on those who committed trespasses on the liberty of the subject by false imprisonment. when carried to a magistrate, he obliged that respectable guardian of the public peace to acknowledge that he could do nothing with him, and he was discharged accordingly. the king directed the following note "to the right honourable the lord de la warr, chairman of the session for the city and liberty of westminster; or, in his lordship's absence, to the deputy chairman. _windsor castle, oct. , ._ "my lord, "his majesty, being very much concerned at the frequent robberies of late committed in the streets of london, westminster, and parts adjacent; and being informed, that they are greatly to be imputed to the unlawful return of felons convict who have been transported to his majesty's plantations, has been graciously pleased, for the better discovering and apprehending of such felons, to give orders to the lords commissioners of his majesty's treasury, to cause to be paid to any person or persons, who, before the first day of march next, shall discover any of them, so as they may be apprehended and brought to justice, a reward of _l._ for each felon convict returned, or that shall return from transportation before the expiration of the term for which he or she was transported; who shall, by the means of such discovery, be brought to condign punishment. "and it having been farther represented to his majesty, that such felons and other robbers, and their accomplices, are greatly encouraged and harboured by persons who make it their business to keep night-houses, which are resorted to by great numbers of loose and disorderly people; and that the gaming-houses, as also the shops where geneva and other spirits and strong liquors are drank to excess, much contribute to the corruption of the morals of those of an inferior rank, and to the leading them into these wicked courses: his majesty has commanded me to recommend it, in his name, in the strongest manner, to his majesty's justices of the peace for the city and liberty of westminster, to employ their utmost care and vigilance, in the preventing and suppressing of these disorders; and that they do, in their several parishes or other divisions, hold frequent petty sessions for this purpose, and call before them the high constable, petty constables, and other proper officers under their direction, and give them the strictest orders and warrants, from time to time, as there shall be occasion, to search for and apprehend rogues, vagabonds, idle and disorderly persons, in order to their being examined and dealt with according to the statutes and laws in that behalf; and the said justices are also to proceed according to law, as well against all persons harbouring such offenders in their houses, as against those that sell geneva or other spirits and strong liquors, who shall suffer tippling in their houses or shops, contrary to law; and against such as keep common gaming-houses, or practise or encourage unlawful gaming. and his majesty, having very much at heart the performance of this service, wherein the honour of his government, the preserving of the peace, and the safety of his majesty's subjects are so much concerned, does further require the said justices, in their respective sessions, to draw up in writing, from time to time, an account of their proceedings herein, inserting the names of the justices of the peace attending such meetings, and of the peace-officers whom they shall employ, taking particular notice of the zeal and diligence of each of them in the performance of his duty; which accounts are to be transmitted from the said several sessions to one of his majesty's principal secretaries of state, to be laid before his majesty; who, being himself informed of their behaviour, may bestow marks of his royal bounty upon such of the said officers as shall remarkably distinguish themselves by the faithful and diligent execution of their office; his majesty not doubting but the said justices, on their part, will take care to punish with rigour, as by law they may, those who shall appear to have been guilty of corruption or negligence therein. "your lordship will be pleased to acquaint the justices of the peace for the said city and liberty, and all others whom it may concern, with this his majesty's pleasure; that the same may be duly and punctually complied with. "i am, &c. townshend." when government issues such notices as the preceding, it authenticates the paragraphs of newspapers, which might otherwise be doubted; indeed, they abound at this period with the most horrid tales of murders, beatings, and robberies, in every direction. the post-man of october , observes: "the persons authorized by government to employ men to drive hackney-coaches have made great complaints for the want of trade, occasioned by the increase of street-robbers; so that people, especially in an evening, choose rather to walk than ride in a coach, on account that they are in a readier posture to defend themselves, or call out for help if attacked. mean-time it is apparent, that whereas a figure for driving of an hackney-coach used lately to be sold for about _l._ besides paying the usual duties to the commissioners for licensing, they are at this time, for the reasons aforesaid, sold for _l. per figure_ good-will." the year introduced a new and dreadful trait in the customs of thieves and other villains, which seems to have originated in the lazy constitutions of some predatory wretches in bristol; where they sent a letter to a ship's carpenter, threatening destruction to himself and property, if he did not deposit a certain sum in a place pointed out by them. as that unfortunate person neglected to do so, his house was burnt in defiance of every precaution; and the practice was immediately adopted throughout the kingdom, to the constant terror of the opulent. london had a threefold share of incendiaries; indeed, the letters inserted in the newspapers, received by various persons, are disgraceful even to the most abandoned character. the king was at length induced to issue his proclamation, forbidding any person to comply with demands for money, and offering _l._ reward for the apprehension of such as had, for four months previous to the date of the proclamation, sent incendiary letters, or maimed or injured his subjects for non-compliance. a female of tolerable appearance, and between and years of age, was the cause of much alarm in , by pretending to _hang herself_ in different parts of the town. her method was thus: she found a convenient situation for the experiment, and suspended herself; an accomplice, always at hand for the purpose, immediately released her from the rope, and after rousing the neighbourhood absconded. humanity induced the spectators sometimes to take her into houses, and always to relieve her, who were told, _when sufficiently recovered to articulate_, that she had possessed _l._; but that, marrying an irish captain, he robbed her of every penny, and fled, which produced despair, and a determination to commit suicide. according to the report of thomas railton, esq. eldest justice of the peace, in april , it appeared that a committee appointed for the suppression of night-houses, night-cellars, and other disorderly houses, had bound over to the quarter sessions persons charged with keeping houses of the above description, and committed to prison for the same offence; besides who were indicted, and their neighbours bound to prosecute them; houses were utterly suppressed, and their landlords absconded. in addition to this laudable reformation, the committee sent vagabonds to the house of correction, and convicted persons for profane swearing. i have too frequently had occasion to notice the general depravity of the publick, which must have had its origin from the same indifference towards religion, observable in the cathedral of st. paul, where unthinking people walked and talked as much at their ease as if they trod the mall in st. james's-park. one wretched family, neglecting those precepts which are aimed against despondency and suicide, _reasoned_ themselves into a contempt of death. pernicious and detestable as the doctrine is, and contrary to every visible operation of nature placed in our view by the divinity; too many, i am afraid, _still cherish_ an idea that the soul perishes with the body. as an antidote for such persons, let them read the horrid murders committed by richard smith and his wife in april . this wretched pair were found in their lodgings, within the liberties of the king's-bench, hanged, and their infant child shot to death in its cradle. the following letters will explain the opinions entertained by them, which, if adopted, would soon render the world a desert. it is the essence of cowardice to fly from misfortunes. "to mr. brightred. "sir, "the necessity of my affairs has obliged me to give you this trouble; i hope i have left more than is sufficient for the money i owe you. i beg of you that you will be pleased to send these inclosed papers, as directed, immediately by some porter, and that without shewing them to any one, &c. richard smith." * * * * * "i have a suit of black clothes at the cock, in mint-street, which lies for _s._ _d._ if you can find any chap for my dog and antient cat, it would be kind. i have here sent a shilling for the porter." * * * * * "cousin brindley, "it is now about the time i promised payment to mr. brooks, which i have performed in the best manner i was able. i wish it had been done more to your satisfaction; but the thing was impossible. i here return you my hearty thanks for the favours which i have received; it being all the tribute i am able to pay. there is a certain anonymous person whom you have some knowledge of, who, i am informed, has taken some pains to make the world believe he has done me services: i wish that said person had never troubled his head about my affairs; i am sure he had no business with them; for it is entirely owing to his meddling that i came pennyless into this place; whereas, had i brought _l._ in with me, which i could easily have done, i could not then have missed getting my bread here, and in time have been able to come to terms with my plaintiff; whose lunacy, i believe, could not have lasted always. i must not here conclude, for my meddling friend's man sancho panca would perhaps take it ill, did i not make mention of him; therefore, if it lies in your way, let sancho know that his impudence and insolence was not so much forgotten as despised. i shall now make an end of this epistle, desiring you to publish the inclosed; as to the manner how, i leave it entirely to your judgment. "that all happiness may attend you and yours, is the prayer of, your affectionate kinsman even to death, richard smith. "if it lies in your way, let that good-natured man mr. duncome know that i remembered him with my latest breath." * * * * * "these actions, considered in all their circumstances, being somewhat uncommon, it may not be improper to give some account of the cause, and that it was an inveterate hatred we conceived against poverty and rags; evils that, through a train of unlucky accidents, were become inevitable; for we appeal to all that ever knew us, whether we were either idle or extravagant, whether or no we have not taken as much pains to our living as our neighbours, although not attended with the same success. we apprehend that the taking our child's life away, to be a circumstance for which we shall be generally condemned; but for our own parts, we are perfectly easy upon that head. we are satisfied it is less cruel to take the child with us, even supposing a state of annihilation (as some dream of) than to leave her friendless in the world, exposed to ignorance and misery. now in order to obviate some censures, which may proceed either from ignorance or malice, we think it proper to inform the world, that we firmly believe the existence of almighty god; that this belief of ours is not an implicit faith, but deduced from the nature and reason of things. we believe the existence of an almighty being, from the consideration of his wonderful works; from a consideration of those innumerable celestial and glorious bodies, and from their wonderful order and harmony. we have also spent some time in viewing those wonders which are to be seen in the minute part of the world, and that with great pleasure and satisfaction; from all which particulars, we are satisfied that such amazing things could not possibly be without a first mover, without the existence of an almighty being; and as we know the wonderful god to be almighty, so we cannot help believing but that he is also good, not implacable; not like such wretches as men are, not taking delight in the miseries of his creature; for which reason we resign up our breaths unto him without any terrible apprehensions, submitting ourselves to those ways, which in his goodness he shall please to appoint after death. we also believe the existence of unbodied creatures, and think we have reason for that belief; although we do not pretend to know their way of subsisting. we are not ignorant of those laws made _in terrorem_, but leave the disposal of our bodies to the wisdom of the coroner and his jury; the thing being indifferent to us where our bodies are laid; from whence it will appear how little anxious we are about a _hic jacet_; we for our parts neither expect nor desire such honours, but shall content ourselves with a borrowed epitaph, which we shall insert in this paper: without a name, for ever silent, dumb; dust, ashes, nought else is within this tomb; where we were born or bred it matters not, who were our parents, or hath us begot; we were, but now are not; think no more of us, for as we are, so you'll be turn'd to dust. "it is the opinion of naturalists, that our bodies are, at certain stages of life, composed of new matter; so that a great many poor men have new bodies oftener than new clothes; now, as divines are not able to inform us which of those several bodies shall rise at the resurrection; it is very probable that the deceased body may be for ever silent as well as any other. "richard smith, bridget smith." smith was pronounced by the coroner's jury, _felo de se_, and guilty of murder with respect to the child: his wife they declared a lunatic. at a sermon preached at bow-church in , before eight bishops, many magistrates, and a numerous auditory, by the rev. mr. bedford, on the anniversary of the society for the reformation of manners; it was stated, that the society had prosecuted, between december and december , persons for disorderly and lewd practices; for keeping disorderly houses, and for exercising their trades on sundays . three different sets of sharpers infested the metropolis in the following winter, who went from house to house with counterfeited letters of request from the magistrates and rectors of tid st. mary's, lincolnshire, and outwell and terrington, norfolk; representing, that dreadful fires had almost desolated those places; when, in truth, no such events had happened. the weekly register of december , , declares: "those honest city tradesmen and others, who so lovingly carry their wives and mistresses to the neighbouring villages in chaises to regale them on a sunday, are seldom sensible of the great inconveniencies and dangers they are exposed to; for besides the common accidents of the road, there are a set of regular rogues kept constantly in pay to incommode them in their passage, and these are the drivers of what are called waiting jobs, and other hackney travelling coaches, with sets of horses, who are commissioned by their masters to annoy, sink, and destroy all the single and double horse chaises they can conveniently meet with, or overtake in their way, without regard to the lives or limbs of the persons who travel in them. what havock these industrious sons of blood and wounds have made within twenty miles of london, in the compass of a summer's season, is best known by the articles of accidents in the newspapers; the miserable shrieks of women and children not being sufficient to deter the villains from doing what they call their duty to their masters; for, besides their daily or weekly wages, they have an extraordinary stated allowance for every chaise they can reverse, ditch, or _bring by the road_, as the term or phrase is. "i heard a fellow, who drove a hired coach and four horses, give a long detail of a hard chace he gave last summer to a two-horse chaise which was going with a gentleman and three ladies to windsor. he said he first came in view of the chaise at knightsbridge, and there put on hard after it to kensington; but that being drawn by a pair of good cattle, and the gentleman in the seat pretty expert at driving, they made the town before him; and there stopping at a tavern-door to take a glass of wine, he halted also; but the chaise not yet coming on, he affected another delay, by pretending that one of his horses had taken up a stone, and so dismounting, as if to search, lay by till the enemy had passed him; that then they kept a trot on together to turnham-green, when the people suspecting his design, again put on; that he then whipped after them for _dear blood_, thinking to have done their business between that place and brentford. but here he was again disappointed, for the two horses still kept their courage, till they came between longford and colnbrook, where he plainly perceived them begin to droop or _knock-up_, and found he had then a sure game of it. he went on leisurely after them, till both parties came into a narrow road, where there was no possibility of an escape, when he gave his horses a sudden jerk, and came with such violence upon the people, that he pulled their machine quite over. he said, the cries of the women were so loud, that the b--s might be heard to his majesty's garden, piccadilly; that, there being nobody near to assist the people, he got clear off with two or three blind old women his passengers some miles beyond maidenhead, safe both from pursuit and evidence. "i have been credibly informed, that many of the coachmen and postillions belonging to the gentry, are seduced by the masters of the travelling-coaches to involve themselves in the guilt of this monstrous iniquity, and have certain fees for dismounting persons on single horses, and overturning chaises, when it shall suit with their convenience to do it with safety (that is, within the verge of the law); and in case of an action or indictment, if the master or mistress will not stand by their servant, and believe the mischief was merely accidental, the offender is then defended by a general contribution from all the stage-coach masters within the bills of mortality. "those hackney gentlemen who drive about the city and suburbs of london, have by their overgrown insolence obliged the government to take notice of them, and make laws for their regulation; and as there are commissioners for receiving the tax they pay to the publick, so those commissioners have power to hear and determine between the drivers and their passengers upon any abuse that happens: and yet these ordinary coachmen abate very little of their abusive conduct; but not only impose in price upon those that hire them, but refuse to go this or that way as they are called; whereas the law obliges them to go wherever they are legally required, and at reasonable hours. this treatment, and the particular saucy impudent behaviour of the coachman, in demanding the other _twelver_ or _tester_ above their fare, has been the occasion of innumerable quarrels, fighting, and abuses; affronting gentlemen, frighting and insulting women; and such rudenesses, that no civil government will, or, indeed, ought to suffer; and above all, has been the occasion of killing several coachmen, by gentlemen that have been provoked by the villainous tongues of those fellows beyond the extent of their patience. their intolerable behaviour has rendered them so contemptible and odious in the eyes of all degrees of people whatever, that there is more joy seen for one hackney-coachman's going to the gallows, than for a dozen highwaymen and street-robbers. "the driver of a hackney-coach, having the misfortune to break a leg and an arm by a fall from his box, was rendered incapable of following that business any longer; and therefore posted himself at the corner of one of the principal avenues leading to covent-garden, with his limbs bound up in the most advantageous manner to move the passengers to commiseration. he told his deplorable case to all, but all passed without pity; and the man must have inevitably perished, had it not come into his head to shift the scene and his situation. the transition was easy; he whipped on a leather apron, and from a coachman became a poor joiner, with a wife and four children, that had broke his limbs by a fall from the top of a house. showers of pence poured daily into his hat, and in a few years he became able to purchase many figures as well as horses; and he is now master of one of the most considerable livery-stables in london. "the next are the watermen; and indeed the insolence of these, though they are under some limitations too, is yet such at this time, that it stands in greater need than any other of severe laws, and those laws being put in speedy execution. a few months ago, one of these very people being steersman of a passage boat between queenhithe and windsor, drowned fifteen people at one time; and when many of them begged of him to put them on shore, or take down his sails, he impudently mocked them, asked some of the poor frighted women if they were afraid of going to the devil, and bid them say their prayers; then used a vulgar water-phrase, which such fellows have in their mouths, '_blow, devil, the more wind the better boat_.' a man of a very considerable substance perishing with the rest of the unfortunate passengers, this villain, who had saved himself by swimming, had the surprising impudence to go the next morning to his widow, who lived at kingston-upon-thames. the poor woman, surrounded by a number of sorrowful friends, was astonished to think what could be the occasion of the fellow's coming to her; but thinking he was come to give some account of her husband's body being found, at last she condescended to see him. after a scurvy scrape or two, the monster very modestly 'hoped his good mistress would give him half a-crown to drink her health, by way of satisfaction for a pair of oars and a sail he had lost the night before, when her husband was drowned.' "i have many times passed between london and gravesend with these fellows; when i have seen them, in spite of the shrieks and cries of the women, and the persuasions of the men-passengers, and indeed, as if they were the more bold by how much the passengers were the more afraid; i have seen them run needless hazards, and go as it were within an inch of death, when they have been under no necessity of it; and if not in contempt of the passengers, it has been in mere laziness, to avoid their rowing. and i have been sometimes obliged, especially when there have been more men in the boat of the same mind, so that we have been strong enough for them, to threaten to cut their throats, to make them hand their sails, and keep under shore, not to fright, as well as hazard the lives of the passengers, when there was no need of it. but i am satisfied, that the less frighted and timorous their passengers are, the more cautious and careful the watermen are, and the least apt to run into danger. whereas, if their passengers appear frighted, then the watermen grow saucy and audacious, show themselves venturous, and contemn the dangers they are really exposed to. "_set one knave to catch another_, is a proverbial saying of great antiquity and repute in this kingdom. thus the vigilant vintner, notwithstanding all his little arts of base brewings, abridging his bottles, and connecting his guests together, does not always reap the fruits of his own care and industry. few people being aware of the underhand understandings, and petty partnerships these sons of benecarlo and cyder have topped upon them; and the many other private inconveniences that they, in the course of their business, are subjected to. now, to let my readers into this great _arcanum_ or secret, i must acquaint them, that nothing is more certain and frequent, than for some of the principal customers to a tavern to have a secret allowance, by way of drawback, of _d._ or _d._; nay, sometimes i have heard of _d._ on every bottle of port-wine that themselves shall drink, or cause to be drank in the house, and for which they have seemingly paid the price of _s._; and so are a sort of vintners in vizards and setters of society. those are mostly sharping shopkeepers, who, by being considerable dealers, hold numbers of other inferior tradesmen in a state of dependency upon them; officers of parishes, old seasoned soakers, who, by having served an age to tippling, have contracted a boundless acquaintance; house-stewards, clerks of kitchens, song-singers, horse-racers, valets-de-chambre, merry story-tellers, attorneys and solicitors, with legions of wrangling clients always at their elbows. wherefore, as they have got the lead upon a great part of mankind, they are for ever establishing clubs and friendly-societies at taverns, and drawing to them every soul they have any dealings or acquaintance with. "the young fellows are mostly sure to be their followers and admirers, as esteeming it a great favour to be admitted amongst their seniors and betters, thinking to learn to know the world and themselves. one constant topic of conversation is, the civility of the people, the diligent attendance, together with the goodness of the wines and cheapness of the eatables, with a side-wind reflection on another house. and, if at any time the wine is complained of, it is answered with 'people's palates are not at all times alike; my landlord generally hath as good, or better, than any one in the town.' and often the poor innocent bottle, or else the cork, falls under a false and heavy accusation. "in a morning there is no passing through any part of the town without being _hemmed_ and _yelped_ after by these locusts from the windows of taverns, where they post themselves at the most convenient views, to observe such passengers as they have but the least knowledge of; and if a person be in the greatest haste, going upon extraordinary occasions, or not caring to vitiate his palate before dinner, and so attempts an escape, then, like a pack of hounds, they join in full cry after him, and the landlord is detached upon his dropsical pedestals, or else a more nimble-footed drawer is at your heels, bawling out 'sir, sir, it is your old friend mr. swallow, who wants you upon particular business.' "the sums which are expended daily by this method are really surprising. i knew a clerk to a vestry, a half-pay officer, a chancery solicitor, and a broken apothecary, that made a tolerable good livelihood, by calling into a tavern all their friends that passed by the window in this manner. their custom was, to sit with a quart of white port before them in a morning; every person they decoyed into their company for a minute or two never threw down less than his sixpence, and few drank more than one gill; and, if two or three glasses, he seldom came off with less than one shilling. the master of the house constantly provided them with a plain dinner, _gratis_. all dinner-time they kept their room, still in full view of the street, and so sat catching gudgeons (as they used to call it) from morning till night; when, besides amply filling their own carcases, and discharging the whole reckoning, they seldom divided less than seven or eight shillings per man, _per diem_. "some people, unacquainted with this fellow-feeling at taverns, often wonder how such-a-one does to hold it; that he spends a confounded deal of money, is seldom out of a tavern, and never in his business: when, in reality, he is thus never out of his business, and so helps to run away with the chief profits of the house. "nor are these all the hardships many of the vintners lie under; for, besides, their purses must too often stand a private examination behind the bar, when any of these sort of customers necessities shall require it. "it is such dealings drives the poor devils to all the little tricks and shifts imaginable. i went one day into a tavern near charing-cross, to enquire after a person whom i knew had once used the house. the mistress being in the bar, cried out, 'what an unfortunate thing it was, mr. ---- being that instant gone out of the house, and was surprised i did not meet him at the door, but that he had left word he expected a gentleman to come to him, and would return immediately.' i staid the sipping of two or three half pints, and began to shew some uneasiness that he did not come according to her expectation, when she again wondered at it, saying, 'it was one of his times of coming; for that he was a worthy good gentleman, and constantly whetted four or five times in a morning.' at length being out of all patience, i paid, and went to my friend's house, about twenty doors farther; where his wife informed me, he had been gone about three months before to jamaica. "the bankruptcies so frequently happening among the sons of bacchus, are doubtless to be attributed chiefly to such leeches as i have been describing, lying so closely upon them; and then an innocent industrious man is to be called forsworn rogue, villain, and what not: and to be told that he affected a failure, to sink a dozen or fourteen shillings in the pound upon his creditors, when, in reality, he hath not a single shilling left in the world, and shall oftentimes be obliged to become a common waiter to a more fortunate fellow, and one perhaps too that he once had thoughts of circumventing in his business and trade, by no other means than a more humble and tractable behaviour. "a vintner, who has been looked upon by all mankind to have been a , _l._ man at least, hath died not worth eighteen-pence; and then the poor wretch has been worried to his grave, with the character of a private gamester." colonel de veil, as celebrated for his address and the number of his commitments as sir john fielding afterwards was, had two legal culprits brought before him for examination, in , who were a counsellor and an attorney, and as rare bucks and swindlers as ever disgraced the annals of turpitude. these gentlemen were charged with defrauding mrs. eddowes, keeper of a bagnio in st. james's-street, and two other persons, of _l._, by proceeding to the bagnio in the characters of country gentlemen just arrived; the attorney styling himself sir john peering, and the counsellor plain _tom_. after remaining a short time with mrs. e. they sent a porter for _ladies_, and one kind soul even left her bed to visit them; they then proposed to hire a coach and four, in order to make an excursion for pleasure, and promised the woman a velvet cap and riding habit if she would make one of the party; this she consented to do, provided they would permit her to go home to dress; but sir john and tom, entertaining doubts whether she would return, demanded, and received, _and kept_ two guineas as a pledge. the coach was hired and used, and two days and two nights were passed at the bagnio; but when the _charges_ were to be _discharged_, the knight and tom had nothing to produce but a valuable box carefully corded, containing the writings of sir john's vast estates and several bank notes. this they offered to leave as _security_ till _their return_; but mrs. e. suspecting a fraud, had them immediately conveyed to the magistrate, in whose presence the following _writings_ were taken from the box: a parcel of rags and some hay, an empty bottle, an earthen pipkin, an earthen candlestick, and a japanned tin box. they were bound over for trial. while the unthinking part of the community fled from place to place, rather in search of amusement than the means of preserving their health, the police of the city appointed beadles and watchmen as follows, under the then recent act, for better regulating the night watch of london: £. _s._ in aldersgate ward, one beadle at _l. per annum_, watchmen at _l. per annum_. to be raised, for defraying the charges in aldgate ward, one beadle at _l._ watchmen _l._ each, charge in bassishaw ward, one beadle at _l._ watchmen at _l._ in billingsgate ward, two beadles at _l._ watchmen at _l._ in bishopsgate ward, two beadles at _l._ watchmen at _l._ in bread-street ward, one beadle at _l._ watchmen at _l._ in bridge ward, one beadle at _l._ watchmen at _l._ in broad-street ward, one beadle at _l._ watchmen at _l._ in candlewick ward, one beadle at _l._ watchmen at _l._ castle-baynard ward, one beadle at _l._ watchmen at _l._ cheap ward, one beadle at _l._ watchmen at _l._ coleman-street ward, one beadle at _l._ watchmen at _l._ cordwainer's ward, one beadle at _l._ watchmen at _l._ cornhill ward, one beadle at _l._ watchmen at _l._ cripplegate within, one beadle at _l._ watchmen at _l._ ---- without, one beadle at _l._ watchmen at _l._ dowgate ward, one beadle at _l._ watchmen at _l._ farringdon within, two beadles at _l._ watchmen at _l._ ---- without, four beadles at _l._ watchmen at _l._ langbourn ward, one beadle at _l._ watchmen at _l._ lime-street ward, one beadle at _l._ watchmen at _l._ portsoken ward, one beadle at _l._ watchmen at _l._ queenhithe ward, one beadle at _l._ watchmen at _l._ tower ward, one beadle at _l._ watchmen at _l._ vintry ward, one beadle at _l._ watchmen at _l._ wallbrook ward, one beadle at _l._ watchmen at _l._ by this arrangement, the guardianship of the city was intrusted to beadles and watchmen. the wretches, kept in some degree of awe by the above members of the police, when nothing occurred to set their passions afloat, or to assemble them from all parts of the town to one point, committed horrid excesses at tyburn this year, by the brutal practice of throwing stones and dirt; besides which they had one ludicrous contrivance that will force a smile, though disgust and abhorrence must succeed, when it is recollected it was performed at the hour of execution. the mob dug two large holes in the fields, and filled them with soil: those they carefully covered with turf; the populace of course walked into the filth, from which they were ushered amidst loud huzza's and laughter, while every effort was made to entice or force others into them. the extreme misery of the lowest description of londoners received some amelioration, about , through the commendable inquiries and remedies made and applied by the legislature, relating to their monstrous excesses in drinking ardent spirits. the evidence given before a committee is too interesting to be omitted; yet it is a disgusting and melancholy picture of london, as it was at that date. an eminent physician to one of our hospitals gave the following information: "that the increase of patients in all the hospitals from to , being years, the total increase was from to , which was somewhat above one-fourth; that from to , being years, the total increase was from to , , or perhaps , , which was above one-third; but that from to , being years, the total increase was from , to , , which was near three times the number." being asked his opinion, whence he apprehended so great an increase could arise, he answered from the melancholy consequences of gin-drinking principally; which opinion he enforced with such strong reasons (in which he was supported by another eminent physician to one of the hospitals) as gave full conviction to the house. it appeared by the evidence of john wyburn, of whitechapel, and john rogers, of trinity-lane, both of whom had followed the trade of bakers for years: "that the consumption of bread amongst the poor was greatly diminished since the excessive drinking of gin, which would proportionably increase again as that vice abated; that the poor laid out their earnings in gin, which ought to purchase them bread for themselves and families; and that, in many of the out-parts, the bakers were obliged to cut their loaves into halfpenny-worths, a practice unknown to the trade till gin was so universally drank by the poor." it appeared "that one house in seven, from the hermitage to bell-wharf, was a gin-shop: it appeared there were about , houses in the city of london, and that there were about licences granted yearly to victuallers, which was about one house to fifteen." "it appeared by the evidence of the high constable of westminster, that there were in that city about , houses, of which licenced, and unlicenced that sold liquors, which was about one house in eight. "it appeared by the evidence of the high constable of holborn, that there were in his division houses, of which licenced and unlicenced, being about one house in five and a quarter. that in st. giles's there were about houses and gin-shops, being above one house in four; besides about twopenny-houses of the greatest infamy, where gin was the principal liquor drank." hateful as the subject is, its ramifications spread, though rather softened, into higher scenes of life. cordials, _alias_ drams, were not _quite_ unknown to the ladies; it was almost noon-- ----ere celia rose, but up she rear'd, and rang her bell, when in came dainty mistress nell; "oh dear, my lady, e'ent you well?" "well! yes--why what's o'clock?--oh heaven"-- "a little bit a-past eleven." "no more! why then i'll lay me down-- no, i'll get up--child, bring my gown; my eyes so ache i scarce can see; nelly, _a little ratifia_[ :a]." a vile impostor was detected in january , and committed to bridewell by john fielding, esq. this wretch had a practice of lying upon his back in some court or narrow passage, and feigning insensibility; at other times he would appear in the habit of a countryman just arrived in london, where he knew no person, and would declare that, being destitute of money, he had not eaten for four days: another trick represented him as an old worn-out and pennyless soldier, just arrived from jamaica; but the repetition of the first performance proved fatal to his _finesse_. a physician found him in the fainting scene, conveyed him to a comfortable bed, and gave him money; but meeting master anthony needham a second time, to all appearance breathing his last, he adopted a new prescription, which procured the healthful exercises of bridewell. cash and provisions were found in his pockets when he arrived at the police-office, though he had just declared he had fasted four days. when an author is to be found who disinterestedly examines into any particular abuse, another writing on the same subject cannot surely do amiss in quoting such facts from his publication as may suit his purpose. a person who assumed the signature of philanthropos exposed the villainy of register-offices, as they were in , in the following forcible manner: "i come now to the article of places under the government, &c. to be sold, which we see frequently advertised from register-offices in these or such like terms, and which you generally find in their hand-bills: 'a place to be disposed of for guineas, which brings in _l. per annum_. a public office to be sold, where nothing less than gold is taken for any business transacted, &c.' "i have the happiness to assure the publick, that most of the advertisements that have appeared within these twelve months past have been carefully perused, and an impartial enquiry made after several of the places to be disposed of (which are not confined to private life, but comprehend church and state), by a public-spirited gentleman, who has been at the expence of applying to the offices from whence they were advertised, and was so kind as to furnish me with the remarks i offer to the publick, on the exposing to sale public offices and employments. the result of an enquiry after the place which brought in _l. per annum_, and might be purchased for guineas, was, that the proprietor of the office took one shilling for answering to the question, 'what is the place?' notwithstanding it was so publicly advertised; and then told the gentleman, that it was a place in the custom-house, and that he must apply for particulars to mr. ----, at a certain coffee-house. this the gentleman patiently submitted to; but when he came there, on enquiring for the person he was directed to, he was told at the bar, that he was just gone, and the place sold; and, notwithstanding the most diligent enquiry, the gentleman could never find out either who bought, or who sold the place. on his return to the register-office, he naturally demanded his shilling again; but was told it was only the customary fee of the office, that it was a pity he had not applied earlier (it was then only three o'clock on the very day the advertisement appeared in the paper); and if the place had not been gone, perhaps it would not have suited the gentleman's talents, as accompts were requisite; and if that had been the case, it was no fault of the office; thus intimating, let what would be the success attending the enquiry, the office-keeper was intitled to one shilling. it is highly probable that eight or ten more might have paid for the same enquiry." sir john fielding received an _involuntary_ present, in november , from a number of publicans, consisting of billiard-tables, mississippi-tables, shuffle-boards, and skittles, which the worthy magistrate caused to be piled in a pyramidal form, near thirty-feet high, at the end of bow-street near the police-office, where they were consumed. a good hint for the magistrates at present, as the word billiards is really very conspicuous in various parts of the metropolis every night, and, indeed, may be found not an hundred doors from the facetious knight's old office. one of the most wicked impositions practised by knaves in london, is the adulteration of bread. the wretch who improves his circumstances by this detestable method of increasing his profits, is an assassin, full as wicked as the celebrated italian tophana: that human fiend poisoned her victims by degrees, suited to the malice of her employers; the baker who throws slow poisons into his trough does worse, for he undermines the constitutions of his supporters, his customers. he that eats bread without butter or meat, throughout london, at the present moment, and afterwards visits a friend in the country who makes his own, cannot fail of perceiving the delicious sweetness which the mercy of our creator hath diffused through the invaluable grain that produces it; the inducement held out to us, to preserve life by the most innocent means, is thus in a great measure lost to the inhabitants of london. i once broke a piece of alum with my teeth, which lay in the depth of a slice of bread, when at breakfast, as large as a pea; and was only deterred from prosecuting the baker by the dread of that obloquy which attends the least interested informers. at another time i lodged a week at a baker's house in a country-town, and during a lazy fit, strolled into the bake-house where bread was mixing; in an instant my landlord's countenance changed, and i was rudely desired to leave the place, as he would allow no one to pry into his business. this conduct from a man who had before behaved with the utmost civility, convinced me all was not right, and that other materials were within view than simple flour, yeast, and a little inoffensive salt. let me not, however, be understood to apply this censure indiscriminately; it is aimed only at the guilty; the honest baker will adopt my sentiments, which are merely an echo of a little work published in , intituled, "poison detected: or, frightful truths, and alarming to the british metropolis," &c. the author asserts that, "good bread ought to be composed of flour well kneaded with the slightest water, seasoned with a little salt, fermented with fine yeast or leaven, and sufficiently baked with a proper fire; but, to increase its weight, and deceive the buyer by its fraudulent fineness, lime, chalk, alum, &c. are constituent parts of that most common food in london. alum is a very powerful astringent and styptic, occasioning heat and costiveness; the frequent use of it closes up the mouths of the small alimentary ducts, and by its corrosive concretions, seals up the lacteals, indurates every mass it is mixed with upon the stomach, makes it hard of digestion, and consolidates the fæces in the intestines. experience convinces me (the author was a physician) that any animal will live longer in health and vigour upon two ounces of good and wholesome bread, than upon one pound of this adulterated compound; a consideration which may be useful, if attended to in the times of scarcity." after explaining many deleterious effects produced by alum, the author proceeds, "but it is not alum alone that suffices the lucrative iniquity of bakers: there is also added a considerable portion of lime and chalk; so that if alum be prejudicial alone, what must be the consequences of eating our bread mingled with alum, chalk, and lime? obstructions, the causes of most diseases, are naturally formed by bread thus abused. i have seen a quantity of lime and chalk, in the proportion of one to six, extracted from this kind of bread; possibly the baker was not so expert at his craft as to conceal it, the larger granules were visible enough: perhaps a more minute analysis would have produced a much greater portion of these pernicious materials." an _author_ cannot be suspected of wishing to restrain the inoffensive liberty of the press; but he may, without fear or resentment, venture to reprobate the turpitude which it too often promotes. there have been, and still are, persons who will take a few facts, and compound them with many falsehoods, and, thus prepared, present them to some hungry printer or editor, to answer their own base purposes; the unsuspecting read them with avidity, and public bodies and individuals suffer without remedy; an instance of this description produced the following address to the community from john fielding, esq. in november . "about twelve months ago a very salutary law took place, to the great benefit of a large and useful body of men, commonly called coal-heavers. by this law they were not only relieved from the impositions they then complained of, and the profits of their severe labour secured to themselves; but a provision was made for the infirm, sick, and disabled coal-heavers, and their dead buried, by their paying two shillings in the pound out of their earnings into an office established by the said law, and under the inspection of so worthy and so able a magistrate in the city, that it is impossible for any coal-heaver to be deprived of any advantage, privilege, or support, that the nature of this institution entitles them to. on sunday the th of last month, one patrick crevey, a coal-heaver, chairman, and an irishman, was buried according to the usual custom of burying coal-heavers, and was carried from gravel-lane to st. pancras church-yard; his corpse being preceded, as is customary, by the beadle of the coal-heavers' office, with a long staff in his hand, the common ensign of his office; the pall was supported by six chairmen, and eight others followed the corpse as mourners in black cloaks; for whenever a chairman is buried, he is constantly attended by as many of his brethren as can be got together: these mourners were followed by a considerable number of coal-heavers, who walked two and two. this procession gave rise to that extraordinary paragraph in the london chronicle, on the th day of october last, wherein it is confidently asserted, that a roman-catholic was carried through the streets of london to be buried at st. pancras, and that the host was carried, and priests walked publicly before the corpse; and that the numerous attendants that followed, insulted and knocked down all who did not pay due obedience to their foreign foppery, and beat many persons whom common curiosity excited to ask any questions relative to the said procession. should any part of this alarming account be true, the offenders cannot be punished with too much severity; but should it be a misrepresentation of facts, the publick would be equally pleased to be undeceived, and he who indiscreetly or wickedly propagated the report without foundation will be the only offender. "in order therefore to get at the real truth of this matter, a few days ago, the informations on oath of the beadle of the said coal-heavers office, of the pall-bearers, mourners, undertaker, his servant, the landlord of the house from whence the corpse was carried, and some other inhabitants who followed the corpse (several of whom were protestants), were taken before john fielding, esq.; and they all positively declared that at, or from the house, whence the man was carried to the grave in pancras church-yard, no host, representation of host, crucifix, or other visible and external mark of the deceased patrick crevey being a roman-catholick, was carried either before or after the said corpse; and that no catholic priest of any sort, to their knowledge, attended the said burial; but that the said crevey (though a roman-catholic) was buried by a clergyman of the church of england, and strictly conformable to the ceremonies of the said church. and the aforesaid beadle, pall-bearers, mourners, and undertaker, further declare, that they themselves during their passage from the house to the grave, neither met with, nor were witnesses to any obstruction whatever; but that they afterwards heard that some of the coal-heavers who were at farther distance from the corpse behind had some dispute, which occasioned blows, with some persons who imitated the irish howl, and called out _paddy_, by way of derision to the deceased and his attendants, &c. &c. "john fielding." the cock-lane ghost. there is something so absurd and ridiculous in the terrors spread by _miss parsons_, that i think it hardly fair to class her operations with really serious offences against the laws of morality; but, recollecting that her _knockings indicated_ a charge of poisoning, my scruples are removed, and i proceed to sketch the principal outlines of an incident that agitated the public mind till , when all who had "three ideas in continuity" were convinced that the _spirit_ possessed no _supernatural_ powers. for two years previous to the above date, knockings and scratchings had frequently been heard during the night in the first floor of a person named parsons, who held the office of clerk to st. sepulchre's-church, and resided in cock-lane, near west smithfield. this man, _alarmed_ at the circumstance, made several experiments to discover the cause, and at last had the amazing good fortune to trace the sounds to a bedstead, on which two of his children reposed after the fatigues of the day; the eldest of whom, _though a most surprising girl of her age_, had numbered but twelve winters. justly supposing the children might suffer some dreadful injury from the knocker, this affectionate parent removed them a story higher; but, horror upon horror, the tremendous noise followed the _innocents_, and even disturbed their rest for whole nights. but this was not all: a publican, resident in the neighbourhood, was frightened into serious illness by the form of a fleeting female ghost, which saluted his vision one fatal evening when in parsons's house; nay, that worthy clerk saw it himself about an hour afterwards. facts of this description cannot be concealed: reports of the noises and of the appearance of the phantom spread from the lane into a vast circle of space; numbers visited the unfortunate house, and others sat the night through with the tortured infant, appalled by sounds terrific; at length a clergyman determined to adjure the spirit, and thus obtain direct replies to the following questions: "whether any person in that house had been injured?" the answer, expressed by the _number_ of knocks (as the ghost was denied the power of speech, and of shewing herself _within reach_), was in the affirmative. "was she a woman?"--"yes; the spirit then explained, that she had been kept by mr. ----, who poisoned her when ill of the small-pox, and that her body was deposited in the vault of st. john's-church, clerkenwell." during this examination, the girl exhibited a considerable deal of art, but betrayed herself decidedly in several instances. the result was, that the spirit ardently desired the murderer might be punished for her alledged death. a wise-acre, who narrated the above particulars in a newspaper of the time, observes, with wonderful sagacity, "what _is_ remarkable _is_, that the spirit _is_ never heard _till the children are in bed_. this knocking was heard by the _supposed woman_ when alive, who declared it foretold her death." another account of the affair asserts that the person accused had married two sisters, and that fanny, the daughter of parsons, had slept with the lady that _appeared_ by _knocking_ and _scratching_ during her husband's absence at a wedding; but the knocking the deceased heard, was declared by the girl to be caused by the spirit of the previously deceased sister; if so, the girl's infernal acts may have caused the death of the woman, as it is well known the agitation of a mind under the terrors of supposed supernatural visitation must have a fatal tendency in such a disorder as the small-pox. as an astonishing proof of the folly of certain persons on this occasion, i shall quote the following paragraphs from the london chronicle, vol. xi. p. , which conclude a string of questions and answers, put to, and received from the horrid girl, who, young as she was, richly deserved hanging, with her prompters. "what must occasion credulity is, the afflicting an _innocent child_, whom this spirit acknowledges to be so, and that it is not the part of a good spirit so to do, while, _she knocks that she is_, and permitted by god, not by satan, to appear. _what is more astonishing_, that she will not cease troubling the child after satisfaction had. there is such a mixture _of truth_ and _contradictions_, that a person _cannot help doubting_ of the veracity of this knocker. it is, we humbly presume, fit to be enquired into, for the satisfaction of the publick, and to bring to exemplary punishment the impostor or impostors, _if any_, to relieve a distressed family, to preserve the reputation of the innocent, or to vindicate the cause of the injured. the publick are desired to rest satisfied, as the fraud, _if any_, will be discovered soon; of which they may rest assured. "the gentleman intended to be accused in this affair, of perpetrating upon two wives the most atrocious of all crimes, was married about six months since, to a very agreeable young lady, with a fortune of _l._ the unhappy situation in which they must both be, from so horrid an aspersion upon the former, may be more easily conceived than expressed." this shameful affair terminated in the manner described in the ensuing words, extracted from one of the newspapers published in february . "february . on this night many gentlemen, eminent for their rank and character, were, by the invitation of the rev. mr. aldrich, of clerkenwell, assembled at his house, for the examination of the noises supposed to be made by a departed spirit, for the detection of some enormous crime. about ten at night, the gentlemen met in the chamber, in which the girl supposed to be disturbed by a spirit had, with proper caution, been put to bed by several ladies. they sat rather more than an hour, and hearing nothing went down stairs; when they interrogated the father of the girl, who denied, in the strongest terms, any _knowledge or belief_ of fraud. the supposed spirit had before publicly promised, by an affirmative knock, _that it would attend_ one of the gentlemen _into the vault_, under the church of st. john's clerkenwell, where the body is deposited, and give a token of _her presence there_, by a knock upon her coffin. it was therefore determined to make this trial of the existence or veracity of the supposed spirit. "while they were enquiring and deliberating, they were summoned into the girl's chamber by some ladies, who were near her bed, and who had heard knocks and scratches. when the gentlemen entered, the girl declared that she felt the spirit like a mouse upon her back, and was required to hold her hands out of bed. from that time, though the spirit was very solemnly required to manifest its existence, by appearance, by impression on the hand or body of any present, by scratches, knocks, or any other agency, _no evidence of any preter-natural power was exhibited_. "_the spirit was then very seriously advertised_, that the person to whom the promise was made, of striking the coffin, was then about to visit the vault, and that the performance of the promise was then claimed. the company, at one, went into the church; and the gentleman to whom the promise was made went with one more into the vault. _the spirit was solemnly required_ to perform its promise; _but nothing more than silence ensued_. the person supposed to be accused by the spirit then went down with several others, _but no effect was perceived_. upon their return, they examined the girl, but _could draw no confession from her_. between two and three she desired, and was permitted to go home with her father. "it is therefore the opinion of the whole assembly, that the child has some art of making or counterfeiting particular noises[ :a], _and that there is no agency of any higher cause_." completely exasperated at the base methods adopted by his enemies to ruin his character, if not to affect his life, the injured party at length had recourse to the justice of his country; and exactly one year after the exposure of this ridiculous as well as wicked imposture, the principals made him pecuniary satisfaction, to avoid worse consequences; but parsons received sentence of imprisonment for two years, and to be pilloried three times; his wife imprisonment one year, and their servant six months. thus ended the serio-comedy of _fanny the phantom_, which afforded fine sport for the wits of the day; nay, parsons shared in the joke, for the populace pitied his _unmerited_ sufferings, and, instead of pelting, cherished him when on the pillory, and even gathered money for him. the mayoralty of william beckford, esq. was distinguished by the trial of a greater number of felons than had occurred for many preceding years: were placed at the bar of the old bailey; received sentence of death; were ordered to be transported; to be branded in the hand, and five to be whipped. amongst the mal-practices of the century may be included the private mad-houses. at first view such receptacles appear useful, and in many respects preferable to public; but the avarice of the keepers, who were under no other controul than their own consciences, led them to assist in the most nefarious plans for confining sane persons, whose relations or guardians, impelled by the same motive, or private vengeance, sometimes forgot all the restraints of nature, and immured them in the horrors of a prison, under a charge of insanity. turlington kept a private mad-house at chelsea: to this place mrs. hawley was conveyed by her mother and husband, september , , under pretence of their going on a party of pleasure to turnham-green. she was rescued from the coercion of this man by a writ of _habeas corpus_, obtained by mr. la fortune, to whom the lady was denied by turlington and dr. riddle; but the latter having been fortunate enough to see her at a window, her release was accomplished. it was fully proved upon examination, that no medicines were offered to mrs. hawley, and that she was perfectly sane. this fact might be supported by the cases of mrs. smith, mrs. durant, &c. "mr. turlington having, in defence of the proceedings of this house, referred himself to mr. king as the person entrusted and employed by him, the committee of the house of commons thought it necessary to summons him. mr. king said he had been in the wool-trade, but for six years past he had been employed by mr. turlington to keep his mad-house: that he had received no written directions from mr. turlington; that he found several patients in the house on his being employed, and all lunatic; that since his being employed _he had admitted several for drunkenness_, and for other reasons of the same sort alledged by their _friends_ or relations bringing them, which he had always thought a sufficient authority. as to the treatment of the persons confined, he said, that they had the liberty of walking in the garden, and passing from one room to another; and as to their diet and apartments, he said, it was according to the allowance they paid, which was from _l._ to _l._ a year. he admitted that he knew mrs. hawley; that she was confined at the representation of a woman who called herself her mother; and that the reason alledged by her for the confinement of her daughter was drunkenness. he said, that he did not remember that she was refused pen, ink, and paper; but at the same time acknowledged it was the established order of the house, that no letter should be sent by any of the persons confined to their friends and relations." dr. battie celebrated for his knowledge in cases of insanity, related the case "of a person whom he visited in confinement for lunacy, in macdonald's mad-house, and who had been, as the doctor believes, for some years in this confinement. upon being desired by macdonald to attend him by the order, as macdonald pretended, of the relations of the patient, he found him chained to his bed, and without ever having had the assistance of any physician before; but some time after, upon being sent for by one of the relations to a house in the city, and then told, macdonald had received no orders for desiring the doctor's attendance, the doctor understood this to be a dismission, and he never heard any thing more of the unhappy patient, till macdonald told him some time after that he died of a fever, without having had any farther medical assistance; and a sum of money devolved upon his death to the person who had the care of him." upon those and other instances of wickedness and inhumanity, leave was given to bring in a bill "for the regulation of private mad-houses in this kingdom." the police. the report of a committee of the house of commons, appointed in , will illustrate this subject from undoubted facts. "sir john fielding, being asked what number of houses have been broken open in and about the cities of london and westminster, and whether it is a growing evil, said, that all robberies, with the circumstances attending them, and particulars of goods stolen, are registered at his office; and from that register informations are grounded, and offenders are detected several years after the offences are committed; and he delivered in lists of houses broken into, with computation of the goods stolen. from michaelmas to march , in half-yearly periods, by which it appeared that from michaelmas to lady-day , houses had been broken open, and goods stolen to the value of _l._ from lady-day to michaelmas , houses, value _l._ from michaelmas to lady-day , houses, value _l._ from lady-day to michaelmas , houses, value _l._ from michaelmas to lady-day , houses, value _l._ _s._ from lady-day to michaelmas , houses, value _l._ from michaelmas to march , houses, value _l._ he farther informed the committee, that it is supposed the last houses were broken open by a number of house-breakers not exceeding , and few of them more than years of age, or of whom are in custody with little probability of their being convicted: that the evil increases amazingly, and never was at so great a height as since last michaelmas. being asked, what is the cause of this increase of housebreaking; he said, that felons formerly carried their goods to pawnbrokers; but by the present method of quick notice to pawnbrokers, silversmiths, and others, that plan is defeated, and the housebreakers now go to jews, who melt the plate immediately, and destroy other things that might be evidence, which in burglary can be nothing but the goods, though in other cases the person may be sworn to; that they disguise jewels by knocking them out of the sockets, so that they cannot be sworn to; that the present gang of house-breakers are sons of unfortunate people, and of no trade; that they began when boys as pick-pockets, but turned house-breakers when they grew up, in order to procure a greater income to supply their increased expences. and he informed the committee, that for years a footpad has not escaped; that highwaymen cannot escape, upon account of the early information given to the aforesaid office, and the great number of prosecutors who always appear against them, which he thinks must in time put an end to that evil[ :a]. he then said, he had detected several persons in duke's-place with plate, and has offered a reward of five guineas for apprehending one person in the same place. being asked what he thought of the present method of watching the town; he said, the watch is insufficient, their duty too hard, and their pay too small; that he has known serjeants in the guards employed as watchmen; that the watchmen are paid eightpence halfpenny in st. margaret's parish, and a gratuity of two guineas a year, out of which they find their own candle; that as they are paid monthly, they borrow their money of an usurer once a week; that in other parishes the watch are paid from tenpence to one-shilling per night; that the watch in westminster is in every parish under the direction of a separate commission, composed of persons who have served the offices of churchwarden and overseer; that commissioners of the respective parishes appoint the beats of their watchmen without conferring together, which leaves the frontiers of each parish in a confused state; for that, where one side of a street lies in one parish, and the other side in another parish, the watchmen of one side cannot lend any assistance to persons on the other side, other than as a private person, except in cases of felony. james sayer, esq. deputy high-steward of westminster, confirmed the above evidence; and added, that st. margaret's parish has a select vestry, the majority of which is composed of tradesmen; that they will pay no more than eightpence halfpenny a night to their watchmen, and have no way of punishing them for neglect of duty than by dismissing them, which in fact is not a punishment, for they find it difficult to get men to serve in that office; and he further said, that their number is not sufficient. being asked the reason for changing the constables from being parochial to be constables for the whole city and liberty, he said, that before george ii. constables were parochial; that he apprehended the reason for the change was, that a constable could not execute any official act out of his parish without being specially authorised so to do. he mentioned an instance of a constable's being killed when he was serving a warrant out of his parish; that the person who killed him was tried and found guilty of manslaughter only, though he would have been guilty of murder, if it had happened in the parish to which the constable belonged. sir john fielding being asked what remedies he could suggest to prevent the above evils; he produced two papers relating to constables, watchmen, and other officers, which were read to and confirmed by him, and are as follows: "watchmen too old--should be from to ; their beats too extensive--should not exceed houses on each side of the way. watchmen too few, the sum raised for the watch too little, being only fourpence in the pound--should be sixpence. "ward-officers to be chosen out of those inhabitants that have served the office of constable, and to have a good salary. one half of the constables to be discharged within the year, so that one half remaining two years will be able to instruct the new officers, and the whole duty will be well done. if the new provisions for the watch can be established by the commissioners remaining where they are, it will save trouble; for then the money may be raised by them as it now is, and every parish may pay and clothe their own watchmen; so that the appointment, distribution, direction, wages, number, and punishment of the watch, may be in the magistrates by a new commission, and the paying and clothing be in the present commissioners. "the words 'a constable of the city and liberties of westminster,' to be placed over the constable's doors; the words 'ward-officer,' over the ward-officers' doors. beadles by name to be discharged; and the necessary part of their duty they now do, to be performed by the ward-officers. that it would be right to confine the intended improvement and constables to westminster only, as the watch in the adjoining parishes of middlesex remain on the same footing as originally settled by the statute of winchester." second paper. "the watch of westminster is extremely defective; the number ought to be increased, their pay augmented, and the whole direction of them put under one commission, and that commission should be magistrates of the city and liberty of westminster; the watch should be attended by ward-officers and relieved in the night, a whole night's duty being too hard. the round-houses should be capacious, no liquor should be sold in them; publicans should be punished for permitting watchmen to tipple during their duty, and watchmen should be particularly rewarded for diligence, and punished for neglect, by the civil power. high constables should not quit their office at the end of three years. constables should be increased, half the number only discharged annually. the constable of the night should be considered for his attendance on that duty, and punished for neglect. "the power for raising money at present for the watch is too confined; it should be enlarged, raised by the present commissioners, the watchmen paid by them, but their number, direction, and appointment, be by the new commission of magistrates. receivers of stolen goods, especially of those taken by burglary or highway-robbery, should be made principals, with a power of mitigation in the judge." james sayer, esq. being again examined, approved of sir john fielding's plan; and added, that the beadles are an unnecessary set of men, advanced in years, and servants to the churchwardens and overseers, are forty in number over the whole city and liberty; they have an allowance of _l. per annum_ apiece, which they make up _l._; that he apprehends, if the number was increased to sixty, and the city and liberty divided into so many divisions, a beadle to each division, and the object of their duty to take up vagrants, they might be of great service: that, if the beadle was to have two shillings for every vagrant he took up, and four shillings was given to any other person who should apprehend one, the one-half to be deducted out of the beadle's salary of that district where the vagrant was apprehended, it would have a good effect. mr. t. rainsforth, high-constable of westminster, being examined, said, he had been in office twelve months; that he had visited the different night watch-houses in the city and liberty of westminster frequently from twelve to three in the morning, found many of the peace-officers upon duty, some were not. that there is a general complaint of peace-officers neglecting their duty, to which neglect it is owing, that the watchmen and beadles are not present; and this general neglect he apprehends is the reason why so many houses are robbed; that he has frequently found seven or eight watchmen together in an alehouse; he thinks, that the high-constable should visit the round-house in the night-time, once a month at least, or oftener if required. james sayer, esq. being again examined, said, that constables are appointed under acts and george ii. which acts are in many articles defective; that constables, which is the number limited, are not sufficient; that they are appointed by the leet-jury, which has been attended by great partialities; for the leet jury being composed of the overseers of the several parishes of the preceding year, they protect each other from serving the office of constable; that in general opulent inhabitants are excused, and young tradesmen returned; that, if a rich man is now and then returned, he is generally got off by pleading age and infirmities; that deputies are generally hired men, and though they cannot be appointed unless approved of by the deputy high steward, yet, as it is impossible for him to get a true character of the person nominated, he finds many unfit persons are appointed, who, he is informed, make a trade of serving the office; for remedy of which he proposed, that the number of constables should be increased to . he thinks the burthen of serving the office of constable should not lay wholly on the trading inhabitants, as it does by the late act; that, by common law, every person able and fit is liable to serve: that the fine for not serving the office should be enlarged from _l._ to _l._ which fine should be distributed among those that do serve: and he added, that twelve being obliged to attend daily during the session of parliament, as long as either house sits, the duty comes round to each individual every sixth day, eight being excepted, who may be sick, or kept in reserve; during which attendance the constables must necessarily neglect their own business. with respect to the high-constable, he said, it is an office of great burthen and trust; that, by law, he the witness is obliged to appoint a substantial tradesman to that office; that the person appointed is not to continue in office above three years, and is liable to a penalty of _l._ for refusing to serve, which penalty goes to the poor of the parish; upon which he observed, that the high-constable should not be a tradesman, because his power enables him to oblige the keepers of public-houses to deal with him, or those with whom he is concerned in his way of trade; that the penalty on persons refusing to serve the office should be increased; that the high-constable should have a reward for his service, and that the constables of the night should have a reward also. sir john fielding being again examined, said, that ballad-singers are a greater nuisance than beggars, because they give opportunity to pick-pockets by collecting people together; that the songs they sing are generally immoral and obscene; the people themselves capable of work, and of the lowest and most abandoned order of people; for remedy of which, he proposed that all ballad-singers should be considered as vagrants, and made liable to the same punishments, no person being a vagrant now but who comes within some one of the descriptions of vagrancy in the vagrant act. and the high-constable being again examined, informed the committee that he has often had warrants for taking up ballad-singers; that he has apprehended a great many, notwithstanding which their numbers increase, and they are become a very great nuisance; that they have often been dispersed, but still continue the practice. sir john fielding, being again examined, said, that the city of westminster is a franchise under the dean and chapter of westminster; that the common gaol thereof is called the gatehouse, to which offenders of every kind, apprehended within the liberty of westminster, have been usually committed for several years back, to the number of or annually; that in this gaol there is little or no allowance or provisions for the prisoners but what arises from the charity of passengers, seldom amounting to more than five or six shillings a-week, the greatest part of which is given to the beggar at the window for the day. that the said gaol appears, from experience of the magistrates, to be too small for the number, and too weak for the safe custody of prisoners; that to this gaol persons for execution in debts recovered in the court of conscience, are committed; and he said, he believed this is the only gaol in england where there is not some provision for the poor and distressed prisoners; and he added, that when a magistrate commits a man to that gaol for an assault, he does not know but he commits him there to starve. for these reasons, as well upon the principles of humanity as of civil policy, this ought to be remedied; and that, on account of the vast increase of inhabitants, property, and number of offenders, there ought to be in westminster a strong, capacious, and useful gaol, and there is no such thing at present; that the said gaol, called the gatehouse, is a very old building, subject to be repaired by the said dean and chapter, who appoint the gaoler; that the supposed original use of this gaol was for the purposes of committing clerks convict. the commission of magistrates is not later than charles the first's reign; they began first to commit offenders to this gaol, rather by sufferance than by right; and he observed that, however proper it may have been for its original purposes, it is unequal to the present occasions, and, as he apprehends, cannot be altered without a law. and he further informed the committee, that the magistrates of westminster have represented this matter to the dean and chapter, who acknowledge it, are willing to pull it down, and to give a piece of ground in their royalty in tothill-fields to build a new gaol upon, and to subject the same, with every thing thereunto belonging, to the magistrates of westminster, under such regulations as the legislature shall think proper, provided a sum be granted by the publick for building the same; and he added, that estimates have been made, by which it appears that a very effectual gaol may be built for the sum of _l._ in order, therefore, to remedy the inconveniences above-mentioned, he proposed that such gaol should be built and kept in repair out of the county rate, which he said may be done without injury to the county at large, for this reason, that there is but one rate at present for middlesex and westminster, near one-third of which is paid by the latter since the increase of buildings there; that this proportion is much greater than the expences required by the act for county rates would subject westminster to; and he added, that the gaol, called the house of correction, westminster, is repaired by the magistrates of westminster, and the expence is paid by virtue of their orders on the county treasurer; that the same thing, if allowed by parliament for the repairs of the proposed new gaol, will answer the purpose without separating the rate. james sayer, esq. being again examined, concurred with sir john fielding in every particular. sir john informed the committee, that about six or seven years ago the magistrates of westminster had no other court-house but a place at the bottom of the stairs leading to the house of commons, called _hell_, to keep their sessions in. the increase of business and of offences in westminster made it impracticable to carry on the business there. the nuisance was represented by the magistrates to the lord lieutenant, lord northumberland, who said, he had then applied for redress, and told the chairman it could not be taken up by government then, but would be in future considered: in the mean time, at his own expence, amounting to _l._ he directed the chairman to prepare a large house in king-street westminster, which was formerly a tavern, to be made proper for a court-house; that the magistrates for their sessions, the burgesses for their courts, the lieutenancy for the militia, commissioners of sewers for their business, grand juries for the county of middlesex, writs of enquiry for the sheriffs, and meeting of inhabitants for nominating their representatives, should use the said building; for all which purposes it has been constantly, effectually, and conveniently used; that it is scarce possible for the above business to be transacted without it, and the establishment of it is as essential to the civil power as any thing that has been mentioned. that the purchase of the said building and fitting it up, cost the duke of northumberland near _l._; and he added, that this building also might be kept in repair by the county rate, at an average of or _l._ a year. sir john fielding said, he thinks the acting part of the magistrates in westminster is in as good a state as it ever was, and more free from imputation of or neglect of duty; that it would be useful to have some persons of rank and condition in the commission of the peace for westminster, who would attend at the quarter sessions, where they would become acquainted with the conduct of the magistrates in general, give a dignity to the commission, support the acting magistrates on great occasions, and give encouragement to such of them as discharged their trust becoming the honour of the commission, and discountenance those who did not; and he added, that for the last two or three years the magistrates of westminster have gone through very painful duty, and have been very diligent in it; and having been sensible of the necessity of their attendance, have mutually agreed to attend at any time or place upon the least notice from their chairman. james sayer, esq. being again examined, admitted that the magistracy at present is composed in general of persons of character, and that justice is administered with activity, diligence, and skill, but alledged that it has been otherwise formerly, and may be the case hereafter; and therefore, he was of opinion that a regulation in the magistracy of westminster is necessary. that there should be a qualification of justices, that they should have a reward for acting, as the most part of their time will be devoted to the public service; that the fees to be taken by their clerks should be devoted to some public service; such as a vagrant hospital; that there should be certain rotation-offices established by law; that, as he apprehends, one such office might be sufficient if properly regulated; that the rotation-office should do all the business except in emergent cases, and that the private office of justice of the peace should be abolished, because it sometimes happens, that a man committed for a notorious bailable offence is carried to another justice, who bails him without knowing the enormity of his offence; and sir john fielding said, that in criminal offences, that nearly regard the publick, it is impracticable to use a rotation-office as there are many things necessary to be kept secret; and, though the whole of the circumstances must be known to the acting magistrate, yet they cannot be known by a fresh magistrate who attends in rotation; and he added, that the great number of brothels and irregular taverns carried on without licence from the magistrates, are another great cause of robberies, burglaries, and other disorders, and also of neglect of watchmen and constables of the night in their respective duties. that these taverns are kept by persons of the most abandoned characters, such as bawds, thieves, receivers of stolen goods, and marshalsea-court and sheriffs officers who keep lock-up houses. the principal of these houses are situate in covent-garden, about thirty in st. mary-le-strand, about twelve in st. martin's, in the vicinity of covent-garden, about twelve in st. clement's, five or six at charing-cross, and in hedge-lane about twenty; that there are many more dispersed in different parts of westminster, in goodman's-fields, and whitechapel, many of which are remarkably infamous, and are the cause of disorders of every kind, shelters for bullies to protect prostitutes, and for thieves, are a terror to the watchmen and peace-officers of the night, a nuisance to the inhabitants in the neighbourhood, and difficult to be suppressed by prosecution for want of evidence, and, in short, pregnant with every other mischief to society; that any person desirous of gaining a livelihood by keeping a place of public entertainment, who is of good reputation, can obtain a licence with ease from the magistrates to keep such house, when a public-house in any neighbourhood happens to be vacant that has been licensed before; the magistrates of middlesex and westminster having long held it to be a rule essential to the public good, rather to diminish than increase the number of public-houses. that persons of abandoned characters, by applying to the commissioners of the stamp-office, may obtain a licence for selling wine; by virtue of such licences it is that the taverns above described are kept open, for the aforesaid commissioners are impowered by law to grant such licences to whom they shall think fit; that licences for selling spirituous liquors by retail are not granted by the commissioners of excise, unless the parties produce to them a licence under the hands and seals of two justices of the peace to sell ale. that magistrates cannot by law authorise any person to sell ale, without a certificate of such person's being of good fame and sober life and conversation, so that producing this licence to the commissioners establishes their character with them, and takes away the necessity of any enquiry; for remedy of which, he proposed that wine-licences should be placed by law under the same restraint as the licences for selling spirituous liquors now are. this remedy, he apprehended, might probably reduce the revenue of wine-licences; if confined to the bills of mortality, it would in his opinion diminish it no more than _l._; but if extended to portsmouth, plymouth, chatham, and other dock-yards, it might lessen it _l._ more; he added, that he thinks it more necessary to correct the evil in those parts, as it has a direct tendency to corrupt and destroy the very vitals of the constitution, the lives of the useful seamen, who by means of these houses become the objects of plunder as long as they have any money, and are induced to become robbers when they have none; and he informed the committee that there is another great evil which is the cause of these disorders, namely, the immense number of common prostitutes, who, mostly from necessity, infest the streets of the city and liberty of westminster and parts adjacent, attended by common soldiers and other bullies to protect them from the civil power; these prostitutes, when they have secured the unwary customers, lead them to some of the aforesaid taverns, from whence they seldom escape without being robbed. the cause of this evil, as he apprehends, is the great difficulty, as the law now stands, to punish those offenders, they being, as common prostitutes, scarce, if at all, within the description of any statute now in being; and he added, that this subjects watchmen, round-house keepers, constables, and even the magistrates themselves to prosecutions from low attorneys; that the remedy in his opinion should be to declare, that persons walking or plying in the said streets for lewd purposes after the watch is set, standing at the doors, or appearing at the windows of such taverns in an indecent manner for lewd purposes, shall be considered as vagrants, and punished as such. that as to the circumstance of street-beggars, it never came to his knowledge that they are under contribution to the beadles. mr. rainsforth the high-constable being called, delivered in a paper called "the state of the watch in westminster;" which paper is hereunto annexed: and said, that all the watchmen being assembled at guildhall on saturday, march , to see the housebreakers, they appeared to him in general very infirm and unfit to execute that office. mr. thomas heath, a burgess of the duchy of lancaster, being examined, said, that both the constables and watch within the said duchy are very insufficient and defective." the committee concluded their report with thirteen resolutions, exactly corresponding with the evidence received, which were all agreed to by the house, and a bill or bills ordered to be brought in for carrying them into effect. the high constable's remarks: _st. margaret's._ "three quarters past . constable came after i was there, house-man and beadle on duty; watchmen, with st. john's united, at eightpence halfpenny _per night_, with one guinea at christmas, and one guinea at lady-day, and great coats as a present; their beats large; was obliged to take a soldier into custody for being out of his quarters, and very insolent, with several more soldiers, in the streets at o'clock; called out "watch," but could get no assistance from them. _st. george's._ half-past . constable and four house-men on duty; watchmen at one shilling _per night_, and great coats; two men had attempted to break into lady cavendish's house, but were prevented. _st. james's._ one o'clock. constable and beadle on duty, streets very quiet, meeting with no disorders; watchmen at one shilling _per night_ for five months, and eight-pence for seven months, with coats, lanterns, and candles. _st. anne's._ half-past . constable gone his rounds; watchmen at one shilling _per night_ for six months, and nine-pence the other six, with candles; no disorders. _st. martin's._ two o'clock. constable, regulator, and beadle on duty; watchmen at _l. per ann._ candles and great coats, every thing quiet, beats large. _st. paul's, covent-garden._ half-past . constable, house-keeper, and beadle on duty; watchmen at one shilling _per night_, down to eightpence halfpenny; no disturbance. _st. clement's danes._ past . no constable on duty, found a watchman there at a great distance from his beat; from thence went to the night-cellar facing arundel-street in the strand, which is in the dutchy, and there found four of st. clement's watchmen drinking; st. clement's watchmen at one shilling each. _st. mary-le-strand._ no attendance, having only two constables which only attend every other night; watchmen, dutchy included, at one shilling each; a very disorderly cellar near the new-church for selling saloop, &c. to very loose and suspected persons." the number of felons who had been imprisoned in newgate during the year , amounted to the amazing number of ; from to , the number had never exceeded ; from the year to , the greatest number of prisoners who died in newgate within twelve months was , and the least . impressed with the melancholy consequences to society from this shocking increase of depravity, sir john fielding thus emphatically addressed the grand jury at the quarter-sessions for westminster, october , . "gentlemen of the grand jury, "by virtue of the trust now reposed in you, as a grand jury for the city and liberty of westminster, you are become the temporary guardians of the lives, liberty, property, and reputation of your fellow-citizens; nor can a higher trust than this be placed in man. and in order that it may be discharged with a conscientious regard to truth, and a fidelity becoming its importance, you are bound by the solemn tie of an oath to execute this office without malice, without resentment, without favour, and without affection. under this sacred obligation, your fellow-subjects have reason to hope and expect that you will hear with patience, enquire with diligence, judge with candour, and present with impartiality. "i am sorry to inform you, gentlemen, that it appears from our calendar, that there are a number of persons in confinement charged with felonies of different degrees, but it is a melancholy truth; probably some of these unfortunate fellow-creatures may suffer ignominious punishments; but, as prevention is far superior to punishment, permit me to call forth to your attention some of those public offences which first corrupt, and then precipitate the unwary to infamy and destruction. i mean the keeping of gaming-houses, disorderly houses, bawdy-houses, for it is these seminaries of vice, these polluted fountains, that first poison the moral spring of our youth, and consequently make footpads, highwaymen, and housebreakers, of those who might otherwise have been useful, nay, perhaps honourable members of society; and although i am convinced it is in the power of many of the inhabitants of this city and liberty to remove, by prosecution, some of these nuisances; yet i am aware that they are deterred from it by the hateful idea indiscriminately annexed to the name of an informer; and thus, gentlemen, the parties injured, by a criminal cowardice, neglect their duty to the publick, whilst the ignorant and abandoned slanderer unjustly reviles the magistrate for the continuation of these evils; but, if public spirit should produce any prosecutors of the keepers of such houses, i hope you will do your utmost to bring such miscreants to condign punishment, that the publick may have a fair opportunity of judging in what a detestable light the magistrates of this bench consider such offenders and offences. let the inhabitants but complain, and if the justice neglect his duty, may contempt and confusion overtake him! but till then, place confidence, and pay respect to that authority where confidence and respect are due. "and now, gentlemen, give me leave to take notice of one public offence, so alarming in its nature, and so mischievous in its effects, that, like a pestilence, it does not only stand in need of your immediate assistance, but that of all good men, to stop its corroding progress; i mean the exposing to sale, and selling such indecent and obscene prints and books as are sufficient to put impudence itself to the blush. surely, gentlemen, providence has placed too strong propensions in our nature to stand in need of such inflammatory aids as these; on the contrary, in this particular, we rather require restraints than encouragements; but, if at that period of life when our children and apprentices stand in need of a parent to advise, a master to restrain, or a friend to admonish and check the first impulse of passion, pictures like these are held forth to meet their early feelings, what but destruction must be the event? indeed, by care, you may prevent youth in some degree from frequenting bad company; you may accustom them to good habits, afford them examples worthy imitation, and by shutting your doors early, may oblige them to keep good hours; but, alas! what doors, what bolts, what bars, can be any security to their innocence, whilst vice in this deluding form counteracts all caution, and bids defiance to the force of precept, prudence, and example, by affording such foul but palatable hints as are destructive to modesty, sobriety, and obedience? but, what is still more shocking, i am informed that women, nay mothers of families, to the disgrace of their sex, are the cruel dispensers of this high-seasoned mischief; but, if duty or humanity should spirit up any one to prosecute such offenders, i conjure you as fathers, masters, and subjects, to afford them the best assistance in your power, to put a stop to this shameful and abominable practice. "i am very sensible that i have already trespassed much on your time, but cannot take my leave without acquainting you that our courts of judicature of late have abounded with prosecutions for wilful and corrupt perjury--dreadful offence! but, as oaths are the foundation of all our judicial proceedings, and the negligent administration of these oaths is one great cause of perjury, i do earnestly recommend it to you, mr. foreman, not to permit any witness to give his testimony without reminding him that he is about to speak under the sacred influence of an oath, and that he has called the great god himself to witness that he is speaking truth." an act, passed in , has operated through the following clause, in suppressing some of the enormities which lead to the crimes sir john deprecated. "that every watchman, as well patroles as others, and every beadle, shall, during his respective time of watching, to the utmost of his power endeavour to prevent as well all mischiefs happening by fire, as all murders, burglaries, robberies, affrays, and other outrages and disorders; _and to that end_, during the time of watching, each and every of them shall and may, and are hereby authorised and impowered to arrest and apprehend _all night-walkers_, malefactors, rogues, vagabonds, and other loose, idle, and disorderly persons, and all persons lying or loitering in any street, square, court, mews, lane, alley, or elsewhere; to apprehend and bring them as soon as convenient before the constable of the night. and if any person or persons shall assault or resist any watchman in the execution of his office, they shall pay any sum not exceeding five pounds." the publication of obscene prints and books (though so justly reprobated by sir john fielding) had proceeded with very little interruption, almost through the space of time which elapsed between his charge and the termination of the century. a few prosecutions were instituted, but nothing systematic in opposition took place, till the society for the suppression of vice attacked the enemies of virtue and decency with vigour, and obtained almost a complete victory. for this essential service rendered to the community they deserve every praise; and, however the publick may be divided in opinion as to their methods of proceeding, and the propriety of some of their operations, all will agree that vending obscene books and prints, riotous and disorderly houses, lotteries, and little-goes, and cruelty to animals, ought to be finally prevented. i shall close this article with a summary of their convictions during the first year of their establishment, ending in april . _profanation of the sabbath._ ---------------------------+----------------------------+----------- _offenders._ | _punishments._ | _no._ ---------------------------+----------------------------+----------- two hundred and twenty-two | some convicted in the | shop-keepers, for | full penalty, with costs,| pursuing their ordinary | and others in costs | callings; and two hundred| only.--before the | and eighteen publicans, | magistrates. | for suffering tippling | | during divine service, | | (having disregarded | | the warning previously | | delivered them). | | _vending obscene books and prints._ ---------------------------+----------------------------+----------- _offenders._ | _punishments._ | _no._ ---------------------------+----------------------------+----------- gainer, an itinerant | six months | hawker. | imprisonment.--middlesex | | sessions. | harris, a vender of ballads| two years imprisonment | and obscene books and | and pillory.--westminster| prints, at whitehall. | sessions. | bertazzi*, an italian | six months imprisonment. | itinerant hawker. | middlesex sessions. | bertazzi, on two other | six months imprisonment | indictments. | for each offence, and | | twice pillory.--court | | of king's bench. | ann aitkin, printseller, | one year's imprisonment | castle-street, | and hard labour.--court | leicester-fields. | of king's bench. | baines, keeper of a stall, | one year's | skinner-street, | imprisonment.--old | snow-hill. | bailey sessions. | * _n.b._ this man, in connection with many others, went about the city selling obscene books and prints, at boarding-schools of both sexes. _riotous and disorderly houses_, &c. --------------------------------+-------------------------------+-------- _offenders._ | _punishments._ | _no._ --------------------------------+-------------------------------+-------- four keepers of houses |all suppressed in a summary | where unlawful dances | way.--before the magistrates.| were held, two on sundays; | | three keepers of | | public-houses, and two | | of private theatres--being | | all receptacles for disorderly| | and abandoned | | characters, and places for | | the seduction of youth of | | both sexes; and two | | keepers of brothels, | | where practices of the | | grossest prostitution were | | carried on. | | lotteries and little goes._ ------------------------------+----------------------------+-------- _offenders._ | _punishments._ | _no._ ------------------------------+----------------------------+-------- twenty-five persons for |from two to six months | illegal insurances, &c. | imprisonment each.--before| some principals, and some | the magistrates. | agents. | | samuel best, a fortune-teller |committed as a vagrant. | and impostor. | | _cruelty to animals._ ------------------------------+----------------------------+-------- | | _offenders._ | _punishments._ | _no._ | | ------------------------------+----------------------------+-------- two drovers. | imprisonment one month | | each.--before the | | magistrates. | several persons guilty of | suppressed by the | bear and badger baiting, | magistrates. | in black-boy-alley, | | chick-lane, where the most | | shocking scenes of | | barbarity had been practised| | for twenty-two years, even | | on sundays. | | _total convictions._ profanation of the sabbath vending obscene books and prints riotous and disorderly houses, &c. lotteries and little goes cruelty to animals --- mr. carlton, deputy clerk of the peace, and clerk to the justices for westminster, stated to a committee of the house of commons in , that e-o tables were very numerous; that one house in the parish of st. anne, soho, contained five, and that there were more than in the above parish and st. james's; those were used every day of the week, and servants enticed to them by cards of direction thrown down the areas. i have hitherto noticed those general circumstances of depravity, which ever have and ever will prevail in a greater or less degree in every metropolis; and shall conclude the black list with mentioning the _monster_, who terrified the females of london in , by cutting at their clothes with a sharp instrument, and frequently injuring their persons. renwick williams was at length apprehended, tried, and convicted, for cutting the garments and person of miss anne porter; and the horrid acts were never repeated. quacks-- . the man who, without experience or education, undertakes to compound drugs, and, when compounded, to administer them as remedies for diseases of the human body, may justly be pronounced a dishonest adventurer, and an enemy to life and the fair proportions of his fellow-citizens. quackery is an antient profession in london. henry viii. despised them, and endeavoured to suppress their nostrums by establishing censors in physick; but i do not profess to meddle with them before . "at the angel and crown, in basing-lane, near bow-lane, lives j. pechey, a graduate in the university of oxford, and of many years standing in the college of physicians, london; where all sick people that come to him may have, _for sixpence_, a faithful account of their diseases, and plain directions for diet and other things they can prepare themselves; and such as have occasion for medicines may have them of him at reasonable rates, without paying any thing for advice; and he will visit any sick person in london or the liberties thereof, in the day-time, for _s._ _d._ and any where else within the bills of mortality for _s._; and if he be called by any person as he passes by in any of these places, he will require but _s._ for his advice." the ridiculous falsehoods of quacks have long been detested by the sensible part of the community; but every thing that has been said and written against them avails nothing: thousands of silly people are yet duped, nay, are bigoted in their belief of the efficacy of nostrums. be it my task to shew the reader a few of the contrivances and schemes of a century, and to bring before him _genuine_ effusions of impudence which have daily insulted and deceived the inhabitants of london. "april , . a satisfactory experiment for the curious. "if you please to pour one part of _sal volatile oleosum_, or any other oily salts into a narrow-bottomed wine-glass, and near the like quantity of stringer's elixir, _febrifugium martis_, there will be a pleasant conflict: the elixir will immediately make a preparation of and precipitate those oily volatile salts into a fixed armoniac salt in the bottom, and receive the spirituous aromatic oily parts into itself, and yet retain its own virtues, colour, and taste. there is no other true and genuine elixir but mr. stringer's that is exposed to sale; for those called _elixir proprietatu_ and _elixir salutis_, &c. are mere tinctures drawn by brandy or nasty spirits; but this is a perfect elixir or quintessence, whose perfect principles of spirits, oil, and salt, are so inseparably united, that it can neither decay, putrefy, nor die, _no more than the glass that contains it_; and is so far from being a harsh corrosive, that it feels like oil, yet dries like a spirit, cleanses the skin like soap, and not only allays all putrefactive ferments in a moment, _but immediately cures the most malignant fevers_, takes away all _sorts of corns and hardness_ in the skin, and makes the roughest hands smooth and white, only by anointing with it morning and night for a month together: which medicine with his other called salt of lemons, _in despite of all opposers_, will approve themselves nearest of affinity to an _universal medicine_." in this admirable medicine the londoner of had an internal and an external application, and materials to cleanse and soften the hands, which would at the same time enable him to walk the streets in comfort and ease, in defiance of corns and _horny_ excrescences. happy londoners! possessing such men as dr. pechey and mr. stringer, aided by dr. case, whose _unguentum panchrestum_, prepared by the _spagyrick art_, might justly be called the _golden mine_. this wonderful preparation cured by its _sympathetical_ powers; in short, the doctor found "it more infallible than the _zenexton_ of _paracelsus_." this great doctor was the means of informing us that quacks were then in the habit of employing persons to thrust bills into the hands of passengers in the streets. for example: "your old friend, dr. case, desires you not to forget him, although he has left the _common way of bills_." a _brother quack_ this year issued the following notice: "john poley, at broken-wharf, over-against the water-mill in thames-street, next door to the bell, will undertake to cure any smokey chimneys. _no cure, no money._" i very much doubt whether even the lowest class of ignorants would be deceived at present by the ensuing impudent falsehood. "whereas it has been industriously reported, that _doctor_ herwig, who _cures madness_ and most distempers by _sympathy_, has left england, and returned to germany: this is to give notice, that he lives at the same place, _viz._ at mr. gagelman's, in suffolk-street, charing-cross, about the middle of the street, _over-against_ the _green_ balcony." the reader will undoubtedly admire the modesty of mr. bartlett, who, in , advertised, "bartlett's inventions of steel trusses, instruments, medicines, and methods to cure ruptures and other faults of those parts, and to make the weak strong, and crooked strait, most of which i could help with the twentieth part of the trouble and charge occasioned only by delay. i reduce desperate ruptures in a few minutes, though likely to be mortal in a few hours, and have made the only true discovery of cause and cure. infants and others born so, and to men of fifty or sixty years, in a few weeks cured. i sell strait stockings, collars, and swings, and such like things. advice and medicines to the poor _gratis_." of all the inventions for the amendment and recovery of the human frame from disease _and death_, none equals the dutch stiptick, _seriously_ mentioned in the supplement, printed by john morphew, april , ; but which i suspect proceeded from the waggish pen of mr. bickerstaff, or some other wit, who sent their effusions to the publisher of the tatler. "there is prepared by a person of quality in holland a stiptick water; for the receipt of which, exclusive of all others, the french king has offered , pistoles; but the proprietor refused to take the same. it was tried upon a hen, before his grace the duke of marlborough, on board the peregrine galley. the feathers being all plucked from her head, a large nail was drove through her brains, gullet, tongue, &c. and fastened her head to a table, where it was left near a minute; after which, drawing out the nail and touching the part immediately with the aforesaid stiptick, she was laid upon the deck, and in half an hour's time recovered, and began to eat bread. several as extraordinary experiments have been made upon dogs, cats, calves, lambs, and other animals, by cutting their guts in several places, the nut of the thigh, and other parts; and it is affirmed, that this stiptick cures any part of the body, except the heart or bladder." john marten, with his "attila of the gout," and specifick, seemed determined in , to expel that disorder from every human body in the kingdom. those who in read his advertisement, and are not thenceforward converts, must be stubborn unbelievers indeed. "i should be wanting (saith mr. marten) as well to the publick as myself, did i not reveal the _stupendious_ effects of my specifick in the gout, which daily experience more and more confirms. and whatever mean opinion any who are strangers to its excellency may entertain of it, either through unbelief, or being prejudiced by those whose interest it is to explode it; let them remember, _i tell_ them (as will many reputable people i will refer them to who have tried it), that if they ever expect certain and speedy relief, without the least detriment to their healths, they _must_ have it. i say they _must_, because the surprising benefit all receive by it indicates that nothing else _can_ more intimately dilute, and friendly and instantly obtrude and subdue by its soft balmy alterative nature, the acrimony of the humours that distend and torture the joints, and gently lead them away by urine, the only sensible operation it has. and as it is a medicine that will make its own way, it cannot but come (by degrees) to be as universally used and approved of in that distemper, as the jesuits' bark is for agues, if not more; for none that shall drink it in time will ever be confined a day with the gout, nor others continue in pain an hour after drinking it, though they have lain for weeks together upon the _wreck_. any may be further satisfied, and have all objections answered, _by word of mouth_, or by consulting the book i lately published, intituled, "the attila of the gout," being a peculiar account of that distemper, in which _the vanity of all_ that has hitherto been writ and practised to remove it, and an infallible method to cure it, are demonstrated; with ample testimonies of patients cured by john marten, surgeon, in hatton-garden." i have before observed, that every profession has its quacks, or persons who deviate from established rules. such was the _quack writer_ who inserted the ensuing advertisement in the evening post of january , . "whereas a certain pretender to penmanship has, in an ill_e_terate manner, _fell_ upon my late performance, let him know _i look down upon him_, yet thus give him his answer: if i did keep monsters for my diversion, that does not affect me in my art; and it is well known that i have not now a deformed creature in my house, which is more than he can say _while he is within doors_. i pass by the unworthy reflections on my n and o, which i could return upon his r and t; but his own ink will blacken him enough, while it appears in his own irregular scrawls. while cross of paul's shines in the middle sky, _thy_ name shall _stink_, but _mine_ shall never die." the above elegant production has a parallel in the following modest notice of august . "this is to give notice, that dr. benjamin thornhill, sworn servant to his majesty king george, _seventh son_ of _the seventh son_, who has kept a stage in the rounds of west-smithfield for several months past, will continue to be advised with every day in the week, from eight in the morning till eight at night, at his lodgings at the swan tavern, in west-smithfield, till michaelmas, for the good of all people that lie languishing under distempers, he knowing that _talenta in agro non est abscondita_, that a talent ought not to be hid in the earth; therefore he exposes himself in public for the good of the poor. the many cures he had performed has given the world great satisfaction, having cured people of the king's evil, and several hundreds that have been blind, lame, deaf, and diseased. god almighty having been pleased to bestow upon him so great a talent, he thinks himself bound in duty to be helpful to all sorts of persons that are afflicted with any distemper. he will tell you in a minute what distemper you are troubled with, and whether you are curable or not; if not curable, he will not take any one in hand, if he might have _l._ for a reward. "n. b. the doctor has an infallible cure for the gout, which in a few hours gives ease, and in a short time makes a perfect cure; likewise a never-failing remedy for the wind colic in the stomach and bowels." the original weekly journal of december , , contains a set of queries, which seem better suited to the ideas of a person despising quacks than to have been written by one. "an appeal to the judicious part of mankind, if it is not the grossest imposition imaginable to cram the public prints in so fulsome a manner with infallible specificks, arcana's, italian boluses, and innumerable quack-medicines put to sale at toy-shops and other places, only to hide the shame, and screen from the resentment of injured people, the preparers of such notorious cheats. are the best physicians or most eminent surgeons ashamed of their prescriptions? can men of sense be gulled out of their money by the severe affliction of another's pocket (though, in his own words, of their body), because his pretended charity to their deplorable circumstances has induced him to publish what he does not own? are not the degrees of distempers and the constitutions of men various? was ever any one thing infallible? can all people eat the most innocent food with equal advantage? have we not ingenious physicians and surgeons, who act in public, not only to their own honour, but that of their country, and are, by their transcendant skill, become inimitable in all the world? are not some disappointed in the success of a prescription from the most judicious hand? and will they depend upon what has no known author, and who refers them to the advice of some able surgeon after cheating them himself? shall any man's misery prevail upon his credulity to make him more miserable? or will any surgeon expose his patient? for your _own sake_, apply to some man of ingenuity and probity, who appears to justify his practice by his success; _one of which invites you to his house_, at the golden-heart and square-lamp, in crane-court, near fetter-lane. ask for the surgeon, who is to be advised with every morning till o'clock, and from two till nine at night, in any distemper." after the above interrogatories, it would be absurd to attempt the application of any argument against quackery. the queries of this extraordinary quack are absolutely unanswerable; but it will be necessary to add, for the _information of posterity_, that the daily papers are still filled with false advertisements and false testimonies of cures performed; and that the angles of the streets, walls, and fences of london, are covered with bills issued by quacks, while, perhaps, upwards of an hundred persons obtain a livelihood by handing them to passengers in every street. this method of proceeding may be pronounced one of the customs which distinguish london; and, as i purpose tracing those, the reader will forgive my entering upon the subject without any other preliminary observation, than that i am afraid he will find some of the number trench very closely upon the rights of the articles under the head of depravity. footnotes: [ :a] the gentleman who reviews this work in the european magazine, mentions 'the royal oak lottery,' on the authority of congreve's "love for love," as particularly ruinous. [ :a] mark the regularity of the gradations. [ :b] gazette. [ :a] original proposals. [ :a] the artist against whom this advertisement was levelled, "was bat pigeon, whose sign of a bat and a pigeon once attracted much attention, and of whom honourable mention has been made both by steele and addison. honest bat had a very handsome house and shop on the north side of the strand, a few doors from st. clement's church yard." european magazine. [ :a] newspapers. [ :a] a writer in the european magazine says, he could add _sixty other schemes_ to my list; i should however imagine my readers are already satisfied. [ :a] this amount seems impossible; but the authority from which it was taken is correctly copied. [ :a] poems for children six feet high, . [ :a] in other words a ventriloquist. [ :a] the worthy magistrate was right in his conjecture, for highway robbery is very uncommon at present in the neighbourhood of london. chap. iii. manners and customs of the inhabitants of london from to . a weekly paper, intituled "the dutch prophet," was published at the commencement of the century. the author, in one of those, gives the outlines of each day in the week as employed by different persons; it is a filthy publication, and the following is almost the only decent part. "wednesday, several shop-keepers near st. paul's will rise before six, _be upon their knees at chapel_ a little after; promise god almighty to live soberly and righteously before seven; _take half a pint of sack and a dash of gentian before eight_; tell fifty lies behind their counters by nine; and spend the rest of the morning over _tea and tobacco_ at child's coffee-house." "sunday, a world of women, with _green aprons_, get on their pattens after eight; reach brewers-hall and white-hart court by nine; are ready to burst with the spirit a minute or two after, and delivered of it by ten. much sighing at salters-hall about the same hour; great frowning at st. paul's while the service is singing, tolerable attention to the sermon, but no respect shewn at all to the sacrament," &c. &c. these extracts inform us that tradesmen were in the habit of attending matins, which is certainly not the case at present; that they breakfasted upon sack and the root gentian, and drank tea and chewed tobacco at the coffee-house. mark the change of years: they now breakfast upon tea, and never chew tobacco; nor do many of them enter the coffee-house once in a year. the halls of the different companies appear to have been used at the above period for almost every public purpose, but particularly for the sighings of grace and over-righteousness, and to reverberate in thrice dissonant thunder the voices of the elect, who saved themselves, and dealt eternal misery to all around them. here again is a change: i believe not one hall is now used for such purposes. the cathedral service is admired, the sermon neglected, and the sacrament received with awe and devotion. the effect of the queen's proclamation against vice and debauchery in is thus noticed by observator in his d number; some of the customs of the lower classes may be collected from the quotation. he says, the vintners and their wives were particularly affected by it, some of the latter of which "had the profit of the sunday's claret, to buy them pins, and to enable them every now and then to take a turn with the wine-merchant's eldest 'prentice to _cupid's_[ :a] garden, or on-board the _polly_[ :b]. the whetters are very much disobliged at this proclamation, who used on sundays to meet on their parade at the quaker's meeting-house, in gracechurch-street, and adjourn from thence through the tavern back-door to take a whet of white and wormwood, and to eat a bit of the cook-maid's dumpling, and then home to their dinner with their dear spouses, and afterwards return to the tavern to take a flask or two for digestion. they tell me, all the cake-houses at islington, stepney, and the suburbane villages, have hung their signs in mourning: every little kennel of debauchery is quite dismantled by this proclamation; and the beaux who sit at home on sundays, and play at piquet and back-gammon, are under dreadful apprehension of a thundering prohibition of stage-playing." the grand jury, impanneled july , , renewed their presentment against the play-houses, bartholomew-fair, &c. and clearly demonstrated that the elasticity of vice had recovered from its temporary depression by the weight of justice. upon this presentment, _heraclitus ridens_ made the following observations, which will point out a new scene in the customs of the londoners: "_earnest._ but the grand jury tell you, in their presentment, that the toleration of these houses corrupts the city youth, makes them dissolute and immoral, and entices them to take lewd courses. "_jest._ i am sorry to hear the citizens' instructions bear so little weight with them, and am apt to think they are not so exemplary in their lives and conversations as they have been supposed to be. would their masters keep a strict hand over them, there would be no reasons for complaints; and i dare be persuaded, there is more debauchery _occasioned by pretending to eat custards_ towards hampstead, islington, and sir george whitmore's[ :a], in a week, than is possible to be brought about by a playhouse in a twelvemonth." the reader of this work who has visited st. paul's or westminster-abbey within the present century, will subscribe to the faithful representation of the manners of a certain class of citizens, that seem to have survived the usual period of life, or have scrupulously transmitted them to their posterity, in a dialogue between jest and earnest, [ :a]. "_jest._ certainly you have never been at st. paul's. the flux of people there would cause you to make use of your handkerchief; and the largest meeting-house in london bears no proportion to it. "_earnest._ and what should i do there, where men go out of curiosity and interest, not for the sake of religion? your shop-keepers assemble there as at full 'change, and the buyers and sellers are far from being cast out of the temple. _the body of the church every lord's-day contains three times the number of the choir_; and when _the organ_ has done playing _an adieu to devotion_, _the greatest_ part of the audience give you their room rather than their company." if an advertisement frequently published about this time may be credited, dram-drinking prevailed rather more than a sound moralist would have approved of. mr. baker, a bookseller at mercers chapel, offered his nectar and ambrosia, "prepared from the richest spices, herbs, and flowers, and done with right french brandy;" and declares that, "when originally invented, it was designed only for ladies' closets, to entertain visitors with, and for gentlemen's private drinking, _being much used that way_;" but, becoming more common, he then offered it in two-penny dram glasses, which were sold, inclosed in gilt frames, by the gallon, quart, or two-shilling bottles. one of the _customs_ of the police of , was the sending a constable through the streets at night, with proper assistants, to apprehend offenders of all descriptions, but particularly idle men, who were immediately dispatched to the receptacles of _this species_ of recruits for her majesty's service; but it was a hazardous employment; and one of those peace-officers, named dent, lost his life in endeavouring to convey a woman to covent-garden watch-house, by the cuts and stabs of three soldiers, who were all seized, and committed to newgate. the above mr. john dent was buried at st. clement's danes, march , - , when a sermon was pronounced by thomas bray, d. d. minister of st. botolph, aldgate, and afterwards published under the title of "the good fight of faith, in the cause of god, against the kingdom of satan," by desire of the justices and the societies for the reformation of manners, who were present at the solemnity. mrs. crackenthorpe, the female tatler of , justly reprehends the practice of pew-opening for money during divine service; and thus describes "a set of gentlemen that are called sermon-tasters: they peep in at different churches in a service, which gives disturbance to those united in devotion; where, instead of attention, they stare about, make some ridiculous observations, and are gone." and the same lady informs us that the fashionable young men were quite as much at a loss how to _kill_ time as those of the present day; they played at quoits, nine-pins, threw at cocks, wrestled, and rowed upon the thames. nor were ridiculous wagers unknown: they betted upon the walking dutchman; and mrs. c. adds, that "four worthy senators lately threw their hats into a river, laid a crown each whose hat should swim first to the mill, and ran hallooing after them; and he that won the prize was in a greater rapture than if he had carried the most dangerous point in parliament." to this voluble tatler i am indebted for an illustration of the manners of the _male_ shopmen of ; and i will consent to be accounted an _ignoramus_ if it can be proved that the shopmen of are not an improved race. "this afternoon some ladies, having an opinion of my fancy in clothes, desired me to accompany them to ludgate-hill, which i take to be as agreeable an amusement as a lady can pass away three or four hours in. the shops are perfect gilded theatres, the variety of wrought silks so many changes of fine scenes, and the mercers are the performers in the opera; and, instead of _vivitur ingenio_, you have in gold capitals, '_no trust by retail_.' they are the sweetest, fairest, nicest, dished-out creatures; and, by their elegant address and soft speeches, you would guess them to be italians. as people glance within their doors, they salute them with--garden-silks, ladies italian silks, brocades, tissues, cloth of silver, or cloth of gold, very fine mantua silks, any right geneva velvet, english velvet, velvet embossed. and to the meaner sort--fine thread satins both striped and plain, fine mohair silk, satinnets, burdets, persianets, norwich crapes, anterines, silks for hoods and scarves, hair camlets, druggets, or sagathies, gentlemen's night-gowns ready made, shallons, durances, and right scotch plaids. "we went into a shop which had three partners: two of them were to flourish out their silks; and, after an obliging smile and a pretty mouth made, cicero like, to expatiate on their goodness; and the other's sole business was to be gentleman usher of the shop, to stand completely dressed at the door, bow to all the coaches that pass by, and hand ladies out and in. "we saw abundance of gay fancies, fit for sea-captains' wives, sheriffs' feasts, and taunton-dean ladies. this, madam, is wonderful charming. this, madam, is so diverting a silk. this, madam--my stars! how cool it looks! but this, madam--ye gods! would i had , yards of it! then gathers up a sleeve, and places it to our shoulders. it suits your ladyship's face wonderfully well. when we had pleased ourselves, and bid him ten shillings a-yard for what he asked fifteen; 'fan me, ye winds, your ladyship rallies me! should i part with it at such a price, the weavers would rise upon the very shop. was you at the park last night, madam? your ladyship shall abate me sixpence. have you read the tatler to-day?' &c. "these fellows are positively the greatest fops in the kingdom; they have their toilets and their fine night-gowns; their _chocolate in the morning_, and their _green tea two hours after_; turkey-polts for their dinner; and their perfumes, washes, and clean linen, equip them for the parade." it is not improbable that many of those effeminate drivelers composed part at least of the various clubs held at different taverns: the _beaux_ was an attractive title for them; and if they were not _virtuoso's_, the _beefsteak_ had irresistible charms; besides, they had the choice of many others, such as the kit-cat, knights of the golden-fleece, florists, quacks, &c. &c. which were supplied by no less than fifty-five newspapers weekly. the fashionables of dined by candle-light, and visited on sundays; and their footmen announced them in the same ridiculous manner upon the doors of their friends as at present. a quotation from the tatler will confirm this assertion: "a very odd fellow visited me to-day at my lodgings, and desired encouragement and recommendation from me for a new invention of knockers to doors, which he told me he had made, and professed to teach rustic servants the use of them. i desired him to shew me an experiment of this invention; upon which he fixed one of his knockers to my parlour-door. he then gave me a complete set of knocks, from the _solitary_ rap of the dun and beggar, to the _thunderings_ of the saucy footmen of quality, with several flourishes and rattlings never yet performed. he likewise played over some private notes, distinguishing the familiar friend or relation from the most modish visitor, and directing when the reserve candles are to be lighted. he has several other curiosities in this art. he waits only to receive my approbation of the main design. he is now ready to practise to such as shall apply themselves to him; but i have put off his public licence till next court-day. "n. b. he teaches _under ground_." it appears from the lucubrations of mr. bickerstaff, that the idea of obtaining a wife by advertisement was not unknown in ; there is a specimen in the tatler of september . it will be remembered that the hint has been pretty well improved upon. there was a paper published in , called the growler. true to the assumed character, this modern diogenes snarled at the vices and follies of the day. one of his subjects was the mercers, who are thus introduced: "alas! a handsome young mercer cannot carry on his business with any reputation without an embroidered coat to stand at the shop-door in, instead of a sign or a footman in a laced livery, to invite in his customers." the tatler of may , , speaks of the strange infatuation then and at present prevalent, of walking in the park during the spring. he says that "no frost, snow, nor east wind, can hinder a large set of people from going to the park in february; no dust, nor heat in june. and this is come to such an intrepid regularity, that those agreeable creatures that would shriek at an hind-wheel in a deep gutter, are not afraid in their proper sphere of the disorder and danger of seven rings." perfumes scented the air, and rendered the paths of fashion delightful and inviting, long before the period at which i date my review. the votaries of this fickle goddess distributed their money so liberally amongst the inventors and combiners of sweets, that they had become very conspicuous persons by the reign of queen anne; as mr. charles lillie will serve to prove, who had the good fortune to be celebrated by sir richard steele in his tatlers, and by the authors of the original numbers of the spectator. but, that this gentleman may not monopolize all the fame of his day, i shall proceed to exhibit the flowing periods of another retailer of essences, who points out in which way they were generally used by the belles and beaux of the time. "incomparable perfuming drops for handkerchiefs, and all other linen, clothes, gloves, &c. being the most excellent for that purpose in the universe; for they stain nothing that is perfumed with them any more than fair water; but are the most delectable, fragrant, and odoriferous perfume in nature, good against all diseases of the head and brain. by their delicious smell, they comfort, revive, and refresh all the senses, _natural_, _vital_, and _animal_, enliven the _spirits_, cheer the heart, and drive away melancholy; they also perfume rooms, beds, presses, drawers, boxes, &c. making them smell surprizingly fine and odoriferous. they perfume the hands excellently, are an extraordinary scent for the pocket, and, in short, are so exceeding pleasant and delightful, so admirably curious and delicate, _and of such general use_, that nothing in the world can compare with them. sold only at mr. payn's toy-shop, at the angel and crown in st. paul's church-yard, near cheapside, at _s._ _d._ a bottle, with directions." one of the most inconsiderate and provoking customs prevalent in the lower classes of the community was the peal rattled in the ears of a new-married pair on the morning after their nuptials. the spectator mentions drums on such occasions; those, though they were continued till within these very few years, are not now used; and i believe the practice is confined to the procession of butchers' men and boys, who ring their discordant cleavers with leg-bones of oxen in a sort of chime, which may be prevented by a few pence, and is always a _day-light_ operation. another of the customs of the londoners is thus accidentally noticed in the british mercury, october , "who plied there to be hired, like chimney-sweepers, at cheapside conduit." the peace of gave great satisfaction to the citizens; and the proclamation of it was honoured with the usual state ceremonies, the responses of shouts and bonfires, and with general illuminations. although many eccentric methods may have been taken by individuals to express their joy, one only of those has been recorded, which was the thought of the keeper of the spread eagle inn, in gracechurch-street, who advertized one shilling tickets for a _peace_ pudding, nine feet in length, twenty inches in breadth, and six inches deep. the ingenuity of mr. winstanley, exhibited at his winter theatre by his widow on the same occasion, may be worthy notice. that lady advertised, as a specimen of their skill in hydraulicks, "six sorts of wine and brandy coming out of the famous barrel, to drink the queen's health, and peace. being enlarged, there will be an addition of claret, pale ale, and stout, playing out of the head of the barrel when it is in the pully, and water at the same time, &c. &c." "a coach-maker, of long-acre, actuated by mistaken zeal, provided the effigies of dr. burges, just then deceased, which he placed in an old chariot, with a pipe in the mouth, and two tapers before him. thus represented, as if in his pulpit, he gave the whole to the mob to burn, which they did in due time, much to his shame." the tenth number of the lover, published march , , treats on the absurdity of filling the best rooms of the houses of fashionable females with china. the author says, that the venders of articles of this description usually bartered them for rejected clothing, a custom now faintly discernible amongst certain jews, who exchange with servants glass, earthen-ware, and a little china, for old clothes. mr. addison, who wrote the paper, adds, that he remembered when the largest article of china was a coffee-cup; but that it had then swelled to vases as large as a half-hogshead, and that those useless jars were accompanied by a variety of absurd representations, arranged, i suppose, in cupboards and on mantle-pieces, as the reader may have seen in some _old-fashioned_ apartments of the present day: indeed, i believe some of the jars may be found in corners yet; but it would perhaps puzzle the owners to designate their use, or to prove in what respect they are even ornamental. the year gave rise to the practice of a contrariety of customs. the queen died, and the nation outwardly mourned in black habits. custom was thus complied with in relation to death. but the joyful entry of george the first required the gayest apparel and the appearance of happiness. surely the publick must have been puzzled how to express these opposite feelings; to-day all grief and sables, to-morrow all splendour, laces, scarlet, gold, and jewels; and the third, a recurrence to mourning. as the public entry of this king undoubtedly secured the succession in the protestant line, i shall be diffuse upon the ceremonies attending it; and those will be best explained by the ensuing original orders, published by the earl of suffolk. "a ceremonial for the reception of his most sacred majesty george, by the grace of god, king of great britain, &c. upon his arrival from holland to his kingdom of great britain. "the king being arrived at greenwich, and the day fixed for his majesty's royal entry; public notice thereof is to be given by the lord marshal of the times and places where the nobility, the lord mayor, aldermen, and citizens of london, &c. are to meet, in order to attend his majesty. and some of the officers of arms, being appointed by the lord marshal, to go to greenwich early that morning, to rank the coaches of the great officers, the nobility, and others, in order, the juniors first, which are to assemble by ten of the clock in the morning in the park there, in order to precede the king's coach: and notice being given to the officers of arms when his majesty is ready to set out: his majesty, preceded as aforesaid, and attended by his _guard du corps_, is to proceed from thence in his coach towards london, in the following order; _viz._ four of the knight marshal's men on horseback. coaches[ :a] of esquires with six horses each. coaches of knights bachelors. baronets of ireland, nova scotia, and great britain. the king's solicitor. the king's attorney. younger sons of barons of ireland and great britain. younger sons of viscounts of ireland and great britain. barons of the exchequer and } according to their justices of both benches } seniority. lord chief justice of the common-pleas (may go as a baron.) master of the rolls, } may go as privy lord chief justice of the } counsellors. king's-bench, } privy counsellors not peers. eldest sons of barons of ireland and great britain. younger sons of earls of ireland and great britain. eldest sons of viscounts of ireland and great britain. the speaker of the house of commons. barons of ireland and great britain. bishops of england. younger sons of marquisses. eldest sons of earls of ireland and great britain. viscounts of ireland and great britain. younger sons of dukes of great britain. eldest sons of marquisses of great britain. earls of ireland and great britain. earl poulet lord steward of the king's household. earl of suffolk and bindon, as exercising the office of earl marshal of england. eldest sons of dukes of great britain. marquisses of great britain. marquis of lindsey, lord great chamberlain of england. dukes of ireland and great britain. the lord chamberlain (who appears as treasurer.) the great officers, _viz._ the lord privy seal. the lord president of the council. the lord high treasurer. the lord archbishop of york. lord chancellor. lord archbishop of canterbury. his royal highness the prince, (if not in the coach with his majesty.) the king's majesty in his coach. the king's guards of horse, commanded by the captains of the guards. in this manner his majesty, preceded by the nobility and others in their coaches as aforesaid, is to be attended from the queen's house in the park through greenwich and deptford to kent-street end, and from thence to st. margaret's-hill in southwark, where the lord mayor of london and others wait his arrival. and upon notice that the nobility, &c. are arrived near to st. margaret's-hill in their coaches, the officers of arms are to begin to draw out the grand proceeding, in the following order; _viz._ a detachment of the artillery company in buff-coats, &c. the two city marshals on horseback, with their men on foot to make way. two of the city trumpets on horseback. the sheriffs' officers on foot, with javelins in their hands. the lord mayor's officers in black gowns, on foot, two and two. two more of the city trumpets on horseback. the city banner borne by the water-bailiff on horseback, with a servant on foot in a coloured livery. then the city officers on horseback, in their proper gowns, each attended by a servant on foot in coloured liveries. the four attorneys, two and two. the solicitor, and the remembrancer. the two secondaries. the comptroller. the four common pleaders. the two judges. the town-clerk. the common serjeant, and the chamberlain. two more of the city trumpets on horseback. the king's banner, borne by the common hunt on horseback, with a servant on foot in a coloured livery. the common cryer in his gown, and the city sword-bearer in his black damask gown and gold chain, both on horseback, each having a servant on foot in coloured liveries. then those who have fined for sheriff or alderman, or served the office of sheriff or alderman, in scarlet gowns on horseback, according to their seniorities, two and two, the juniors first, each attended by two servants on foot in coloured liveries. the two sheriffs in scarlet gowns on horseback, with their gold chains, and their white staves in their hands, each attended by two servants on foot in coloured liveries. the aldermen below the chair on horseback in scarlet gowns, two and two, each attended by his beadle and two servants on foot in coloured liveries. then the recorder in a scarlet gown on horseback, attended by two servants on foot. then the aldermen above the chair in scarlet gowns, on horseback, wearing their gold chains, attended by their beadles, and two servants each, in coloured liveries. then the coaches of the nobility, great officers, &c. in the order they come from greenwich. the knight marshal's men on horseback, two and two. the knight marshal, or his deputy, on horseback. the king's kettle-drums. the drum-major. the king's trumpets, two and two. serjeants the serjeant trumpet with his mace. serjeants at arms at arms with pursuivants of arms uncovered, with their two and two. their maces, maces, bare-headed. heralds of arms, as before. bare-headed. kings of arms, as before. the prince in his coach. gentleman usher the lord-mayor of london garter king of the black-rod, in his crimson velvet of arms, or on his left-hand, gown on horseback, his deputy, uncovered. wearing his rich collar on the right and jewel, uncovered, hand, uncovered. bearing the city-sword by his majesty's permission, with only four servants on foot, bareheaded, in coloured liveries. yeomen of the yeomen of the guard, footmen, the king in his coach. guard, footmen, equerries. equerries. his majesty's horse-guards as before, to close the proceeding. thus the king is to pass from st. margaret's-hill (after the recorder has made his speech, and the lord mayor received the city sword from his majesty) to his royal-palace of st. james's. the trained-bands of southwark, by order of the lord-lieutenant of surrey, are to line the way from kent-street end, to the foot of london-bridge. three regiments of the city trained-bands are to make a guard from the bridge to the stocks-market. the several companies of london, with their ensigns, are to line the streets on both sides, from the stocks-market to st. paul's church-yard; at the east-end whereof, the children of christ's-hospital are to stand, and one of the king's boys makes a speech to his majesty. and the other three regiments of the city trained-bands are to guard the way from st. paul's church-yard to temple-bar. from temple-bar, the steward, high-bailiff, and burgesses of westminster, in their gowns, attended by all the constables and beadles with their respective staves: and the high-bailiff's officers, with their ensigns of office, are to line the way: and next to them the militia of westminster make a guard, leaving a space between them and his majesty's foot-guards (who line the way from st. james's into the strand) for the artillery-company to draw up in. against st. alban's-street in the pall-mall, the sheriffs' officers and lord mayor's officers are to make a stand on the right-hand. those who have served, or fined for sheriffs or aldermen of london, are to make their stand between the passages into st. james's-square. the sheriffs and aldermen make their stand towards the upper-end of the pall-mall, on the right-hand leading to st. james's-gate. the nobility, and others who go in their coaches, are to alight at st. james's-gate; and the coaches to pass by st. james's meuse into st. james's-park, and go out again at the upper gate by hyde-park. the knight-marshal's men, kettle-drums, trumpets, and serjeant-trumpet, are to make a stand on the right-hand side from the end of the pall-mall, by the gloucester-tavern. the officers of arms and serjeants at arms are to pass on to the second gate-way, and there alight. the lord-mayor, with garter, and the gentleman-usher of the black-rod, are to attend his majesty into st. james's, to the foot of the stairs leading up to the guard-chamber; where they alight, and the lord mayor humbly takes his leave of his majesty. during the whole proceeding from st. margaret's-hill, the conduits at stocks-market and other parts of the city are to run with wine as usual. and the great guns at the tower are to be twice discharged: first, at his majesty's taking coach at greenwich; and secondly, after his passing over london-bridge. and at his majesty's arrival at his royal palace, the foot-guards in the park fire three volleys, and the cannon in the park are to be discharged." such was the eagerness evinced on this occasion, that seats were erected in every situation where it was possible the king could be seen, and the balconies in cheapside, cornhill, &c. were let for and guineas each. it must, however, be acknowledged to have been a superb spectacle, to grace which the publick provided prudently and amply. coaches, carts, &c. were forbid to enter the streets, and those were lined by six regiments of trained bands; the conduits ran with wine; the charity-children, assembled on a vast range of seats, sung hymns; the livery companies exhibited their persons and costume; and a number of aged gentlemen, whose hairs were silvered by time, determined to invite others to join them in white camblet cloaks, and seated on white horses to form part of the procession; but some unforeseen obstacles intervening, they were compelled to substitute a stand at the east-end of st. paul's, erected over another appointed for a boy from christ's-hospital to pronounce an oration to the king, where a considerable number appeared to shew their loyalty.--one of the newspapers of the day observes, that the weather was uncommonly fine, and that the cavalcade of the procession and volunteers reached from greenwich to st. paul's. exclusive of the usual evening demonstrations of joy, a fire-work was exhibited in st. paul's church-yard, representing two flaming dragons on one side, and on the other the crown accompanied by the motto, "_floreat civitas_." cockades of ribband, and ribbands decorated with mottos and devices in gold and silver, were very generally worn on this occasion, and at the subsequent coronation; previous to which, the envoys of sicily and venice had a warm dispute on precedency in the box prepared for the ambassadors in westminster-hall; this the marshal of the ceremonies adroitly parried, by declaring all precedency ceased _in_ the box. every description of utensils and table-linen were purloined from westminster-hall, as at the preceding coronation. dreadful accidents occurred during the procession, by the fall of over-loaded scaffolds in old palace-yard and the broad sanctuary: nineteen persons were killed and wounded, amongst whom was lady burton, far advanced in pregnancy; this unhappy lady died in a few minutes. every recompence was made to the survivors, by the king's orders, that pecuniary assistance could afford. the king soon after witnessed the lord mayor's annual ceremony from mr. taylor's balcony in cheapside. this gentleman was a quaker and a linen-draper, to whom the monarch offered the honour of knighthood in return for his civility; but the wary friend declined the tempting bait, which would have procured him the less acceptable ceremony of being read out of meeting. the proprietors of sion gardens advertised the following singular method of selling deer from their park, in may . they appointed the afternoons of mondays, thursdays, and saturdays, for killing those animals; when the publick were admitted at one shilling each to see the operation, or they might purchase tickets from four to ten shillings, which entitled them, i suppose by way of lottery, to different parts of the beast, as they say the quantity killed was to be divided into sixteen lots, and the first choice to be governed by the numbers on the tickets; a ten shilling ticket was entitled to a fillet; eight a shoulder; seven a loin, &c. if the full price of the deer was not received on a given day, the keeper held the money till that sum was obtained. they offered to sell whole deer, and to purchase as many as might be offered. a singular wedding occurred in november , _secundum usum tremulorum_, between a rich quaker apothecary, and a daughter of daniel quare, the celebrated watch-maker in exchange-alley. the place of entertainment was skinners-hall, "where persons were present, amongst whom was the duchess of marlborough, &c. the princess of wales was invited, but did not go." however unpleasant the yells of barrow-women are at present, no other mischief arises from them than the obstruction of the ways. it was far otherwise before , when they generally carried dice with them, and children were enticed to throw for fruit and nuts, or indeed any persons of more advanced age. however, in the year just mentioned, the pernicious consequences of the practice beginning to be felt, the lord mayor issued an order to apprehend all retailers so offending, which speedily put an end to street-gaming; though, i am sorry to observe, that some miscreants now carry little wheels marked with numbers, which being turned govern the chance by the figure a hand in the centre points to when stopped. the first notice of coloured lamps for illuminations that i have met with is in the year , when dr. chamberlain displayed on the front of his house in surrey-street, in honour of the king's birth-day. the same year produced the annual rowing-match by six young watermen who have just completed their apprenticeship, which was founded by mr. doggett, the comedian, who left a certain sum in trust for the purchase of the prize, an orange-coloured coat with a silver badge, representing the hanoverian horse, as i take it; but the papers of the day will have it to represent _the wild unbridled horse_ liberty. the reader will find in the following advertisement a singular method of invitation to a public-house and gardens; and i think he will agree with me, that this custom of our predecessors is better honoured in the breach than in the observance. "sion chapel, at hampstead, being a private and pleasant place, many persons of the best fashion have been lately married there. now, as a minister is obliged constantly to attend, this is to give notice, that all persons, upon bringing a licence, and who shall have their wedding-dinner at the house in the gardens, may be married in the said chapel without giving any fee or reward; and such as do not keep their wedding at the gardens, only five shillings will be demanded of them for all fees." a grand aquatic procession occurred in july . the king, accompanied by the dutchess of newcastle, lady godolphin, madam kilmanseck and the earl of orkney, went in the evening in an open barge to chelsea. as they floated up the tide, surrounded by thousands of boats, fifty performers in a city-barge serenaded his majesty with the strains of handel, composed expressly for this occasion, with which he was so enraptured that they were thrice repeated. at eleven o'clock the boats had reached chelsea; there the monarch landed, and, proceeding to the mansion of lady catharine jones[ :a] he supped, was entertained by a concert, and returned at two in the morning. the princess of wales frequently hired the common watermen, and glided about the same part of the river; and once honoured a west-country barge with a visit, partaking with the men their homely fare of salt-pork and bread, and distributing a tenfold equivalent of guineas. this honour was so acceptable to the master of the vessel, that he immediately gave her a royal title, and expended great part of the money in purchasing a splendid cockade as a _distinguishing vane_ for his head, vowing to _renew it when decayed_. such were the happier moments of royalty! thanks to our constitution, happiness reigns in gradations from the throne to the cottage; and while george i. solaced in his gondola, fanned by the evening breeze, and lulled by the sweet notes of handel, his peasants were celebrating their florists' feast at bethnal-green, with a carnation named after him, the king of the year; the stewards bearing gilded staves, crowned with laurel, and bedecked with flowers, and cultivators in their rear, each bearing his blooming trophy, traversed the fields to the sound of musick, happy in themselves, and rendering the numerous spectators not less so. why is this pleasing custom neglected and forgotten? it would have been well if the society for the reformation of manners had attempted the reform of a class of people whose manners were extremely provoking and very disgusting. i beg leave to introduce a paragraph from the medley of may , which will explain my meaning, and support my assertion, that in this particular the watermen of our day are greatly improved, though still very rough in their actions and conversation. "on monday last, being the day king george set out for hanover, several of his lower domesticks went before; and while they were upon the thames, a brisk bold lass, that was perfectly well versed in water-language, gave them several plaguy broadsides; certain it is, she made use of several odd, comical, out-of-the-way expressions, at which, though at the same time they were heartily vexed, they could not forbear laughing. the phrases she made use of should be repeated here, but only they were of such a rude nature, that, though they did not fall under the cognizance of the law by water, yet they would be perfectly punishable by land; and i question whether if they would not even be deemed treasonable. the thames seems to have a charter for rudeness; and the sons of triton and neptune have not only a freedom of, but a licence for, any sort of speech. the privilege, by being so antient, is grown incontestible; and scandal there is as it were a law by prescription. crowned heads in former times did not go scot-free, and yet no punishment ensued; so that majesty then seemed, by conniving in silence at the abuse, to give the royal assent to those rough water-laws. several bitter jests were cast on our good queen catharine; and people told her majesty merrily of the several children king charles had by his concubines, and made it a matter of ludicrous wonder and surprize, that the constant bedfellow of so mettlesome a prince should not give the world one token of their mutual love." such were the manners of watermen; and, without doubt, their passengers frequently bore a part in the low _amusement of abuse_. mr. mist, well known as one of the heroes of the dunciad, enables me to shew those of some of the landsmen of the same period. he introduces them in very good advice to parents and masters previous to the holidays of may; and observes, that many coaches were in a state of requisition for the conveyance of journeymen, apprentices, and their masters' daughters, to the churches of st. pancras and mary-le-bon, for private marriage. he conjures all sober honest tradesmen who love their wives to walk abroad with them and their children. "and whereas mr. mist has been informed, that in holiday times divers persons of distinction and figure _transform themselves into the shapes of journeymen, apprentices_, and other mechanical habits, to trepan young wenches out of their modesty; he therefore requires of all viceroys and governors of families to give the strictest orders for their female children and servants to repair to their respective habitations before candle-light. "all journeymen drapers, mercers, lawyers-clerks, _and other ten or twelve-shilling workmen_, are strictly forbid to cause riots and routs in the streets _concerning precedency_, as they return from their carouses in the night-time. "n. b. bullies and gamesters, who have an indisputable right to make disturbances every night in the year, are not meant in this article. "journeymen shoemakers are desired to take notice, that by an antient statute, yet unrepealed, any of their function going sober to bed on the night of whitsun-monday forfeits _s._; upon non-payment to be levied by distress, one moiety to the informer, and the other to the poor alehouse-keepers of the parish where the fact was committed." the horrid custom of duelling never was at a greater height than at the above date. the newspapers from to appear to have preserved their progression faithfully; every gaming-table, despicable brothel, tavern, coffee-house, masquerade, the theatres, and even festive meetings, produced its duellist; and the universal fashion of wearing swords allowed no time for passion to subside, or reason to reflect; a walk into the street or into an adjoining room, enabled the parties to wound each other in an instant; revenge and pain maddened them; and death frequently ensued to both. government at length interfered; but duelling has again recovered from _temporary_ interruption!--doctors mead and woodward fought like a pair of butchers, in june , at the very gates of gresham-college; and every drunken rake who staggered through the streets had it in his power to plunge a sword into an unoffending breast, or to _wound_ where he now _dare_ not _strike_. dead bodies were frequently found; and the thief and the duellist seemed emulous which should furnish the diaries of the time with the greater number of victims. robberies, attended with monstrous cruelty, were dreadfully frequent; and such was the general profligacy of the age, that the paragraph-writers endeavoured to convey horrid facts with a levity of expression suited to the coarseness of their style, which was truly vulgar throughout all the newspapers. let one instance speak for me: "people sicken and die at an uncommon rate in and about this city and suburbs; and there is a sad outcry raised (especially by antient females) of a plague, pestilence, and what not, which has occasioned abundance of people to leave the town, and fly to the _countries_ for refuge, whilst horse and foot physicians, mountebanks, _dead-mongers_, parish-clerks, and other lesser _ministers of dust and ashes_, are continually in motion in one part or other to perform their several offices; and we hear that in some parishes the sexton or grave-digger can afford to employ two or three journeymen." _original weekly journal, may , ._ it must, however, be allowed that frequent attempts were made to resist the progress of vice, and many of the justices concurred in warning the people of the illegality of their conduct; ten of them, at a special session held for the division of the tower, in pursuance of an order made at the general quarter sessions for middlesex, on the th of january , for putting in execution the statute of henry viii. cap. , directed authentic copies of the order to be given to all victuallers, &c. whom it concerned, and also to be affixed in all public places within that division; "that none shall keep or maintain any house or place of unlawful games, on pain of _s._ for every day, of forfeiting their recognizance, and of being suppressed; that none shall use or haunt such places on pain of _s._ _d._ for every offence; and that no artificer, or his journeyman, husbandman, apprentice, labourer, servant at husbandry, mariner, fisherman, waterman, or serving-man, shall play at tables, tennis, dice, cards, bowls, clash, coiting, loggating, or any other unlawful game, out of christmas, or then out of their master's house or presence, on pain of _s._" but, though it was sometimes possible to prevent the depravity of the lower order of people, there were others, that moved in the sphere of gentlemen, who set the worst of examples to their inferiors. such were those that had assembled on the evening of a court drawing-room at the royal chocolate-house in st. james's-street; where disputes at hazard produced a quarrel, which became general throughout the room; and, as they fought with their swords, three gentlemen were mortally wounded; and the affray was at length ended by the interposition of the royal-guards, who were compelled to knock the parties down with the butt-ends of their muskets indiscriminately, as intreaties and commands were of no avail. a footman of colonel cunningham's, greatly attached to his master, rushed through the swords, seized, and literally carried him out by force without injury. this horrid rencontre was the effect of sudden passion, roused by disappointment and avarice; there was nothing of depravity prepense, except the act of gaming. weak as this palliative may be, the members of two other clubs had them not to plead for their infamous profligacy. the wretches who associated under the titles of the "_bold bucks_" and the "_hell-fires_," are described in a paper of february , , as deliberate abandoned villains. "the principles of the first are to come up to the flaming lust of their worthy patrons, from whom they take their denomination, by their examples; they attempt all females of their own species promiscuously--grandmothers and mothers, as well as daughters; even their own sisters fear their violence, and fly their privacies. blind and bold love is their motto, and their soul's faculties strictly terminated in a participation of entertainment and judgment with brutes." "the hell-fires, you may guess by the appellation, aim at a more transcendant malignity; deriding the forms of religion as a trifle with them, by a natural progression from the form they turn to the substance; with lucifer they fly at divinity. the third person of the trinity is what they peculiarly attack; by the following specimen you may judge of their good will: _i. e._ their calling for a holy ghost-pye at the tavern, in which, by the bye, you may still observe the propriety and justice of god's judgment on them, that blasts the advantages of their education, so as to make this shocking stupidity to be the poignancy of their wit, and the life they lead, the sublimity of their genius. such is their disposition; the next things to be remarked are their education and usual place of conference. their education then, after the care of tender parents, and their initiation into the liberal arts, is proposed to be finished in an academy; (do not mistake me) not a scholastic schismatical one, but a riding one; where obsceneness, curses, blasphemy, exclamations, with revolving regularity, meet each curvet of the more rational animal. their usual place of conference in full council, is a diminutive tavern not very far from thence; where the master and cook may perhaps in time hear something from a magistrate for striking in with the rakes' blasphemous jests, and supplying them with cards and dice on sundays." as a further illustration of the manners of the times, the following paragraph is of importance: "on wednesday night last, about twelve, there was such a great riot in windmill-street, near the haymarket, that near gentlemen and others were all engaged at one time, some with swords, and others with sticks and canes, wherein abundance were dangerously wounded; the watchmen that came to put an end to the affray were knocked down and barbarously used; at last the patrole of horse-guards came, and finding them obdurate, rode through them cutting all the way with their swords; yet we hear of none that were killed upon the spot, though many, it is thought, cannot recover of their wounds. when they saw their own time, they gave over; and, upon summing up the matter, the quarrel began at first by two chairmen only[ :a]." on the evening of may , captain fitzgerald and three young men his companions met a lady in the strand, returning from st. james's, conveyed in a sedan-chair. they immediately endeavoured to force her out, but were opposed by the chairmen, upon which they drew their swords, and proceeded to demolish the vehicle. the noise brought a watchman to the spot, who instantly received a deadly wound through the back, and as instantly expired. this mighty son of mars was secured; but the others fled from their foul deed, like true cowards. it may be supposed that this laxity of manners influenced all ranks, when inroads upon the paths of decorum prevailed even in the church. in order that this fact may not rest upon my mere assertion, i shall quote the concluding lines of a letter to the author of the london journal, dated december , , and signed "a. a. a lover of decency and order." he speaks of an impropriety, _now_ become quite common, in the stewards of the sons of the clergy permitting persons from the theatres to perform in their annual celebration at st. paul's; and then proceeds: "there are other things truly blameable to be observed, when the _te deum_ or anthem hath been performing, yes, when the parson hath been preaching, (viz.) _persons eating, drinking wine_, laughing and talking; a conduct much more becoming those who attend the performances of drury-lane or the haymarket, than the temple of the lord. "what is here taken notice of, as it is fact, so it is abominable, and ought to be exposed; the doing of which may tend to reform such irregularities for the future, and keep those disorders from the house of god, which cannot admit of a justification unless by those who may think the same liberties may be taken in places set apart for devotion, as are in the synagogue of satan." the progress of the shocking clubs already noticed became so alarming, that the king found it necessary to issue his proclamation for their suppression, in april , which establishes their existence beyond all dispute. "at the court of st. james's, the th day of april . present, the king's most excellent majesty in council. "his majesty having received information which gives great reason to suspect that there have been lately, and still are, in and about the cities of london and westminster, certain scandalous clubs or societies of young persons, who meet together, and in the most impious and blasphemous manner insult the most sacred principles of our holy religion, affront almighty god himself, and corrupt the minds and morals of one another; and being resolved to make use of all the authority committed to him by almighty god to punish such enormous offenders, and to crush such shocking impieties, before they increase, and draw down the vengeance of god upon this nation: his majesty has thought fit to command the lord chancellor, and his lordship is hereby required, to call together his majesty's justices of the peace of middlesex and westminster, and strictly to enjoin them in the most effectual manner, that they and every of them do make the most diligent and careful inquiry and search for the discovery of any thing of this and the like sort, tending in any wise to the corruption of the principles and manners of men, and to lay before his lordship such discoveries as from time to time may be made, to the end that all proper methods may be taken for the utter suppression of all such detestable practices. his lordship is further directed to urge them to the due execution of their office, in detecting and prosecuting with vigour all profaneness, immorality, and debauchery, as they value the blessing of almighty god, as they regard the happiness of their country, which cannot subsist if things sacred and virtuous are trampled upon; and, as they tender his majesty's favour, to which they cannot recommend themselves more effectually than by shewing the utmost zeal upon so important an occasion; to which end his lordship is to acquaint them, that as his majesty, for himself, has nothing more at heart than to regard the honour of god so impiously struck at, and is determined to shew all marks of displeasure and discouragement to any who may lie even under the suspicion of such practices; so he shall always account it the greatest and substantial service they can do to his majesty or his government, to exert themselves in discovering any who are guilty of such impieties, that they may be openly prosecuted and punished with the utmost severity and most public ignominy which the laws of the land can inflict. edward southwell." "his majesty has been pleased to give orders to the principal officers of his household, to make strict and diligent enquiry whether any of his majesty's servants are guilty of the horrid impieties mentioned in the order of council inserted above, and to make their report to his majesty." the dreadful consequences of this attempt to set aside all virtue and all religion were conspicuously observable, even at the moment, in the sudden deaths of four members of these dreadful clubs; not that i mean to insinuate the almighty interfered by miracles to shew his displeasure; on the contrary, the event was produced by natural causes inherent in each diabolical act. the hurry of the spirits, occasioned by ardent liquors and the terrors of conscience, were sufficient; nature shrunk from the contest; and he that drank a toast too shocking to repeat fainted under the recollection; and she that had assumed the character of the mother of christ fell a victim to the keen horrors of remembrance in her lucid moments of repentance. it was said, that one of the clubs met at somerset-house, where they celebrated their infamous orgies to the sound of musick during the hours of divine service, which will account for the concluding paragraph of the proclamation. the number of justices who attended the lord chancellor's summons exceeded ; they received his most strenuous recommendation to exert themselves in the execution of the order, but i find no recorded effects of its operation. the mob carried the same brutality more brutalised to the feet of the gallows; and even while the miserable wretches, who afforded them a spectacle, were supplicating that forgiveness which the laws of morality denied on earth, they were interrupted by shouts and execrations, and injured by stones, dirt, and filth, thrown with violence in every direction. at an execution, june , several persons had their limbs broken, others their eyes almost beaten out; and barbara spencer, carried to tyburn to be strangled and burnt, was beaten down by a stone when beseeching on her knees the mercy of heaven. these wretches frequently robbed the surgeons. the wretched manner in which the lowest description of people lodged in , may be gathered from the ensuing extract from an order of the court at a general quarter session, october . "it is now become a common practice in the extreme parts of the town, to receive into their houses persons unknown, without distinction of age or sex, on their paying one penny or more _per night_ for lying in such houses without beds or covering; and that it is frequent in those houses for or , or more, to lie in a small room." these miserable people, thus indiscriminately mixed, corrupted each other, and licentiousness reigned triumphant amongst them; in truth, the population of london always exceeded the means of subsistence; and i believe there are now, upon an average, three families to each house, and thousands of homeless wanderers. fleet marriages were common in ; and the wonderful omissions of government at that period, in permitting so sacred an office to be celebrated, and registers of marriages kept at ale-houses and brandy-shops within the rules, where couples are known to have been joined in three days, was one cause of the overgrown community. an author of the time alluded to says: "it is pleasant to see certain fellows plying by fleet-bridge to take poor sailors, &c. into the noose of matrimony every day throughout the week, and the clocks at their offices for that purpose _still standing at the canonical hour_, though perhaps the time of the day be six or seven in the afternoon." macky gives a good sketch of the manner of living in . the following is extracted from his journey through england, vol. i. p. . "i am lodged in the street called pall-mall, the ordinary residence of all strangers, because of its vicinity to the king's palace, the park, the parliament house, the theatres, and the chocolate and coffee-houses, where the best company frequent. if you would know our manner of living, it is thus: we rise by nine, and those that frequent great men's levees find entertainment at them till eleven, or, as in holland, go to tea-tables. about twelve the _beau-monde_ assembles in several chocolate and coffee-houses; the best of which are the cocoa-tree and white's chocolate-houses, st. james's, the smyrna, and the british coffee-houses; and all these so near one another, that in less than an hour you see the company of them all. we are carried to these places in chairs (or sedans) which are here very cheap, a guinea a-week, or a shilling _per_ hour, and your chairmen serve you for porters to run on errands as your gondoliers (watermen) do at venice. "if it be fine weather, we take a turn in the park till two, when we go to dinner; and if it be dirty, you are entertained at picket or basset at white's, or you may talk politics at the smyrna and st. james's. i must not forget to tell you, that the parties have their different places, where, however, a stranger is always well received; but a whig will no more go to the cocoa-tree or ozinda's, than a tory will be seen at the coffee-house of st. james's. "the scots go generally to the british, and a mixture of all sorts to the smyrna. there are other little coffee-houses much frequented in this neighbourhood, young-man's for officers, old-man's for stock-jobbers, pay-masters, and courtiers, and little-man's for sharpers. i never was so confounded in my life, as when i entered into this last: i saw two or three tables full at faro, heard the box and dice rattling in the room above-stairs, and was surrounded by a set of sharp-faces, that i was afraid would have devoured me with their eyes. i was glad to drop two or three half-crowns at faro, to get off with a clear skin, and was overjoyed i was so got rid of them. "at two we generally go to dinner: ordinaries are not so common here as abroad; yet the french have set up two or three pretty good ones, for the conveniency of foreigners, in suffolk-street, where one is tolerably well served; but the general way here is to make a party at the coffee-house to go dine at the tavern, where we sit till six, then we go to the play; except you are invited to the table of some great man, which strangers are always courted to, and nobly entertained. "i know abundance of french, that by keeping a pocket-list of tables, live so almost all the year round, and yet never appear at the same place above once in a fortnight. by looking into their pocket-book in the morning, they fix their place of dining, as on monday with my lord ----, and so for two weeks, fourteen lords, foreign ministers, or men of quality; and so they run their round all the year long, without notice being taken of them. "there are three very noble theatres here: that for opera's at the end of the pall-mall, or hay-market, is the finest i ever saw, and where we are entertained in italian music generally twice a-week: that for history, tragedy, and comedy, is in covent-garden (a piazza i shall describe to you in the sequel of this letter), and the third for the same, is by lincoln's-inn-fields, at a small distance from the other. "the theatres here differ from those abroad; in that those at venice, paris, brussels, genoa, and other parts, you know, are composed of rows of small shut-boxes, three or four stories in a semi-circle, with a parterre below; whereas here the parterre, commonly called the pit, contains the gentlemen on benches; and on the first story of boxes sit all the ladies of quality; in the second, the citizens wives and daughters; and in the third, the common people and footmen: so that between the acts you are as much diverted by viewing the beauties of the audience, as, while they act, with the subject of the play; and the whole is illuminated to the greatest advantage. whereas abroad, the stage being only illuminated, and the lodge or boxes close, you lose the pleasure of seeing the company; and indeed the english have reason in this, for no nation in the world can shew such an assembly of shining beauties as here. "the english affect more the italian than the french music; and their own compositions are between the gravity of the first, and the levity of the other. they have had several great masters of their own: henry purcel's works in that kind are esteemed beyond lully's every where; and they have now a good many very eminent masters: but the taste of the town being at this day all italian, it is a great discouragement to them. "no nation represents history so naturally, so much to the life, and so close to truth, as the english; they have most of the occurrences of their own history, and all those of the roman empire, nobly acted. one shakespear, who lived in the last century, laid down a masterly foundation for this in his excellent plays; and the late mr. addison hath improved that taste by his admirable cato, which hath been translated into several languages, particularly into italian blank verse, and is frequently acted in italy. "their comedies are designed to lash the growing follies in every age; and scarce a fool or a coxcomb appears in town, but his folly is represented. and most of their comedians, in imitation of moliere, have taken that province; in which mr. cibber, an extreme good player, hath succeeded very well. "they seldom degenerate into farce, as the italians; nor do they confine their tragedies to rhyme and whining, as the french. in short, if you would see the greatest actions of past ages performed over again, and the present follies of mankind exposed, you must come here. "after the play, the best company generally go to tom's and will's coffee-houses, near adjoining, where there is playing at picket, and the best of conversation till midnight. here you will see blue and green ribbons and stars sitting familiarly with private gentlemen, and talking with the same freedom, as if they had left their quality and degrees of distance at home; and a stranger tastes with pleasure the universal liberty of speech of the english nation. or, if you like rather the company of ladies, there are assemblies at most people of quality's houses. and in all the coffee-houses you have not only the foreign prints, but several english ones with the foreign occurrences, besides papers of morality and party-disputes. "my bills of exchange oblige me now and then to take a turn to the royal-exchange, in a hackney-coach, to meet my merchant. these coaches are very necessary conveniencies not to be met with any where abroad; for you know that at paris, brussels, rome or vienna, you must either hire a coach by the day, or take it at least by the hour: but here you have coaches at the corner of every street, which for a shilling will carry you any where within a reasonable distance; and for two, from one end of the city to the other. there are eight hundred of them licensed by act of parliament, and carry their number on their coaches; so that if you should chance to leave any thing in a coach, and know but the number of it, you know presently where to lay your claim to it; and be you ever so late at a friend's house in any place of this great city, your friend, by taking the number of the coach, secures your safety home. "the royal-exchange is the resort of all the trading part of this city, foreign and domestic, from half an hour after one, till near three in the afternoon; but the better sort generally meet in exchange-alley a little before, at three celebrated coffee-houses, called garraway's, robin's, and jonathan's. in the first, the people of quality who have business in the city, and the most considerable and wealthy citizens, frequent. in the second, the foreign banquiers, and often even foreign ministers. and in the third, the buyers and sellers of stock. "when i entered into this last, i was afraid i had got into little-man's coffee-house again; for busy faces run about here as there, with the same sharp intent looks, with the difference only, that here it is selling of bank-stock, east-india, south-sea, and lottery tickets, and there it is all cards and dice. "you will see a fellow in shabby clothes selling ten or twelve thousand pounds in stock, though perhaps he may not be worth at the same time ten shillings, and with as much zeal as if he were a director, which they call selling a bear-skin; and these men find bubbles enough to get bread by it, as the others do by gaming; and some few of them manage it so, as to get pretty large estates. "near this exchange are two very good french eating-houses, the one at the sign of pontack, a president of the parliament of bourdeaux, from whose name the best french clarets are called so, and where you may bespeak a dinner from four or five shillings a-head to a guinea, or what sum you please; the other is caveack's, where there is a constant ordinary, as abroad, for all comers without distinction, and at a very reasonable price. "i am told, that while wagers were allowed to be made on taking of towns, and gaining of battles, during the last war, this exchange-alley was the sharpest place in the world; but the abuse of intelligence, sham letters spread upon the exchange, and private letters coming before the mails, made that practice so notorious, that the queen and parliament wisely thought fit to put a stop to it by a seasonable provisional act against it, as they have endeavoured to do by another act against excessive gaming, being both equally looked on as a cheat and imposition upon the well-meaning subject. however, some great men have not disdained to be deeply concerned in both, and have got good estates: for tricking is not here reckoned so despicable a quality as abroad, when it is cleanly done; therefore, my friend, when you come here, play not in england, nor venture to lay wagers, except you know your company very well, or are sure of your fact. the fatal south-sea scheme, and the wicked execution of it, proves what i foretold you to be too true." the pernicious and general custom of wearing masks enabled half-repentant sinners to mix with the most profligate of the female sex undiscovered, and to indulge in excesses which they would not have dared to commit had their features been exposed as at present. this practice afforded opportunities of gratifying very improper curiosity, and of visiting places at unseasonable hours; an instance of this description occurred in may . the white-lion[ :a], in wych-street, had long been famed for riotous assemblies under the pretence of concerts; and the neighbouring moralists waited with impatience for the hour when they should effectually transgress the law: that hour at length arrived, and a posse of constables, executing a warrant obtained for the purpose, discovered females even of some distinction, tradesmen's wives, their daughters, and many common prostitutes, a collection that really surprised each other; the vicious hardly crediting that they were in so much good company, and the noviciates frightened at the features of unmasked depravity. the latter received wholesome admonition, and were sent home; the former visited bridewell. the custom of walking and talking in the nave of st. paul's cathedral had become so very prevalent in , that the bishop of london found it necessary, at his visitation in that year, to declare his positive intention of enforcing the th canon, and the act of the first of william and mary, by which transgressors forfeited _l._ for every offence. a subscription was opened in for the relief of mrs. clark, the aged and only surviving daughter of milton. an author, under the signature of bruyere, in the london journal, ardently recommended liberal contributions; and drew the following picture of the manners then prevailing. "at white's we see nothing but what wears the mask at least of gaiety and pleasure; powder and embroidery are the ornaments of the place, not to forget that _intolerable stink_ of perfumes, which almost poisons the miserable chairmen that besiege the door. conversation is not known here; the enquiries after news turn chiefly upon what happened last night at the groom porters. the business of the place is to promote some musical subscription; to make all possible court to some young man of quality that is next expected to take possession of a great estate; to take care to be very well with a knot of well-dressed people that meet here, and modestly call themselves _the world_; but, above all, to solicit a share in the direction of the moneyed interest, which is established here under the name of a faro bank. "at tom's coffee-house, in cornhill, there is a very different face of things. plenty, the parent of cheerfulness, seems to have fixed her residence on this spot; while joy, which is the offspring of folly, seems to be utterly unknown. industry, the first principle of a citizen, is an infallible specifick to keep the spirits awake, and prevent that stagnation and corruption of humours which make our fine gentlemen such horrible torments to one another and to themselves. decency in dress is finery enough in a place where they are taught from their childhood to expect no honours from what they seem to be, but from what they really are. the conversation turns principally on the interests of europe, in which they themselves are chiefly concerned; and the business here is to enlarge the commerce of their country, by which the publick is to gain much more than the merchant himself. for the rest i need not add, that there is a vein of strong sense and useful knowledge runs through their whole discourse, which makes them to wise men very desirable companions. if i should say that in this house i have met with merchants of as liberal education and generous principles, of as exquisite taste in classical knowledge and polite learning, as are to be found at court or in the college, i should be confident of every reader's credit when he knows that in this place was first projected the subscription for the relief of the sightless old age of milton's daughter." the monarchs of this happy island have frequently honoured the citizens of london with their presence at guildhall, when the lord mayor enters upon his office. on the th of october , and in the mayoralty of sir edward becher, knight, and afterwards baronet, george ii. his queen, the princess royal, and the princess carolina, proceeded to cheapside at three o'clock in the afternoon, attended by a great number of the nobility and others, through a double line of the london militia. a balcony near bow-church had been prepared for their reception, whence they viewed the procession, and the houses decorated with carpet, and tapestry to do them honour. after the city-officers were disposed in due order for the reception of the king in guildhall, the sheriffs waited on him, and conducted him there; the lord mayor, kneeling at the entrance, presented the sword of state to his majesty, who returned it, and followed the mayor to the council chamber, where sir william thompson (as recorder) thus addressed the king: "may it please your majesty, "the lord mayor, aldermen, and commons of this city, beg leave to offer their most humble acknowledgments for this great honour to the city, by the presence of your majesty, your royal consort, the princess royal, and her royal highness. their joy is inexpressible, to behold their sovereign condescending to accept their good-will and affections, and in the most engaging manner vouchsafing here to receive their homage and duty. "this day will be ever remembered by them with the highest satisfaction: this happy day, which gave birth to their most gracious king, who is pleased thus to honour them, and who protects them in the enjoyment of all their rights and privileges: a prince who takes pleasure in promoting their happiness, and who thinks it gives the truest lustre to his crown, to preserve the religion, the laws, and liberties of his people. fortunate is their present condition, and delightful is their prospect while they have in view your majesty, their most gracious and justly admired queen, and the illustrious branches of your royal family. permit, sire, these your majesty's most faithful subjects to take this opportunity of assuring your majesty of their unalterable attachment to your royal person, and of their warmest zeal for the support of your government. "the best, the only security of our excellent constitution in church and state, and of every thing which is dear and valuable to englishmen, gratitude and interest, make these the unanimous sentiments of this your majesty's most loyal and most dutiful city of london." their majesties (preceded by the lord mayor bearing the sword) went to the hustings, where they dined in company with the princesses and the ladies of the bed-chamber. the entertainment was of the most sumptuous description, and served at different tables, prepared for the lord mayor, aldermen, and common council, the foreign ministers, the nobility, privy counsellors, the judges, ladies, &c. &c. after silence had been commanded, the common cryer announced that the king drank to the health of the lord mayor, and prosperity to the city of london and the trade thereof, and, that her majesty drank, confirming the same. he then proclaimed that the lord mayor, aldermen, and common council drank health, long life, and a prosperous happy reign to our sovereign lord king george; and that they drank to the health, long life, and happiness of our most gracious queen caroline, and all the royal family. when the dinner was concluded, their majesties returned to the council chamber, where they were seated till o'clock during a ball in the area below. the city was illuminated on this occasion. an author of this period, treating on the number of poor, and their manner of living, very justly observes: "if any person is born with any defect or deformity, or maimed by fire or any other casualty, or any inveterate distemper which renders them miserable objects, their way is open to london; where they have free liberty of shewing their nauseous sights, to terrify people, and force them to give money to get rid of them; and those vagrants have for many years past been moved out of several parts of the three kingdoms, and taken their stations in this metropolis, to the interruption of conversation and business. "the quaker workhouse is an example for each parish: the poor orphans among them, as well as the children of such poor as are unable to subsist them, are put to their workhouse, where they are taught to read and write certain hours of the day, and at other times are put to spin, or other employments. and as the nation has found great advantage by those workhouses, which have been established by act of parliament, it is a great pity that so profitable an institution was not made general through the nation, that so there might be no pretence for any beggar to appear abroad. their example is very pernicious, for what they get by begging is consumed commonly in ale-houses, gin-shops, &c.; and one drunken beggar is an inducement to a great many to follow the same trade. "but, as to those creatures that go about the streets to shew their maimed limbs, nauseous sores, stump hands or feet, or any other deformity; they are by no means objects fit to go abroad; and considering the frights and pernicious impressions which such horrid sights have given to pregnant women, should move all tender husbands to desire the redress of this enormity." i have frequently observed, in the course of my researches, the strange methods and customs peculiar to gaming, horse-racing, dice, and wagers; the latter are generally governed by whim and extreme folly. we have already noticed noblemen running their coaches and footmen. in , a poulterer of leadenhall-market betted _l._ he would walk times round the area of upper moorfields in hours, and accordingly proceeded at the rate of five miles an hour on the _amusing pursuit_, to the infinite improvement of his business, and great edification of hundreds of spectators.--wagers are now a favourite custom with too many of the londoners; they very frequently, however, originate over the bottle or the porter-pot. a curious exhibition distinguished the anniversary of the queen's birth-day, march , ; wool-combers assembled in their shirts, with various coloured woollen caps on their heads, in bishopsgate-street, from whence they went in procession to st. james's palace, preceded by the steward of their company and a person on horseback, representing bishop blaze, in wigs of wool neatly curled; the bishop carried a wool-comb in one hand, and a prayer-book in the other. they arranged themselves in the park facing the palace; and their leader addressed the king and queen, who appeared at a window, thanking his majesty for the encouragement they had received, and intreating his future protection. a writer in read's weekly journal of january , , has obliged us with a concise and pleasing description of christmas customs prevalent at that period, which i shall transcribe for the reader's information. "my house, sir, is directly opposite to a great church; and it was with great pleasure i observed from my window, last christmas-day, the numerous poor that waited at the doors very liberally relieved; but my joy was soon over, for no sooner were the charitable congregation dispersed, but these wretches, who before appeared the very pictures of misery, forgot their cant, and fell to quarrelling about the dividend; oaths and curses flew about amongst them, very plentifully, and passion grew so high that they fell hard upon one another's faults. in short, sir, i learned from their own mouths that they were all impostors, both men and women; and that amongst their whole number, which was very large, there was not one object of charity. when they had tired themselves with scolding, they very lovingly adjourned to a neighbouring brandy-shop, from whence they returned in a condition neither fit for me to describe nor you to hear. "the next day i met with another wonder; for, by that time i was up, my servants could do nothing but run to the door. enquiring the meaning, i was answered, the people were come for their christmas-box; this was logick to me; but i found at last, that, because i had laid out a great deal of ready-money with my brewer, baker, and other tradesmen, they kindly thought it my duty to present their servants with some money for the favour of having their goods. this provoked me a little; but, being told it was the custom, i complied. these were followed by the watch, beadles, dust-men, and an innumerable tribe; but what vexed me the most was the clerk, who has an extraordinary place, and makes as good an appearance as most tradesmen in the parish; to see him come a-boxing, _alias begging_, i thought was intolerable; however, i found it was the custom too, so i gave him half-a-crown; as i was likewise obliged to do to the bell-man, for breaking my rest for many nights together. "having talked this matter over with a friend, he promised to carry me where i might see the good effects of this giving box-money. in the evening away we went to a neighbouring ale-house, where abundance of these gentry were assembled round a stately piece of roast-beef and as large a plumb-pudding. when the drink and brandy began to work, they fell to reckoning of their several gains that day; one was cursed for a stingy dog for giving but sixpence; another called an extravagant fool for giving half-a-crown, which perhaps he might want before the year was out; so i found these good people were never to be pleased. some of them were got to cards by themselves, which soon produced a quarrel and broken heads. in the interim came in some of their wives, who roundly cursed the people for having given them money, adding, that instead of doing good it ruined their families, and set them in a road of drinking and gaming, which never ceased till not only their gifts, but their wages, were gone. one good woman said, if people had a mind to give charity, they should send it home to their families; i was very much of her opinion; but, being tired with the noise, we left them to agree as they could. "my friend next carried me to the upper-end of piccadilly, where, one pair of stairs over a stable, we found near an hundred people of both sexes, some masked, others not, a great part of which were dancing to the musick of two sorry fiddles. it is impossible to describe this medley of mortals fully; however, i will do it as well as i can. there were footmen, servant-maids, butchers, apprentices, oyster and orange-women, common w----s, and sharpers, which appeared to be the best of the company. this horrid place seemed to me the very sink of hell, where, however virtuous young people may be before, they will not come often thither before they learn to be both w----s and thieves. it is a notable nursery for the gallows. my friend informed me, it was called a three-penny hop; and while we were talking, to my great satisfaction, by order of the westminster justices, to their immortal honour, entered the constables and their assistants, who carried off all the company that was left; and, had not my friend been known to them, we might have paid dear for our curiosity. "i believe i have almost tired you as well as myself with an account of the lower sort of diversions. i come next to expatiate on the entertainment and good cheer i met with in the city, whither my friend carried me to dinner these holidays. it was at the house of an eminent and worthy merchant; and though, sir, i have been accustomed in my own county to what may very well be called good house-keeping, yet, i assure you, i should have taken this dinner to have been provided for a whole parish, rather than for about a dozen gentlemen. it is impossible for me to give you half our bill of fare; so you must be content to know that we had turkeys, geese, capons, puddings of a dozen sorts, more than i had ever seen in my life, besides brawn, roast-beef, and many things of which i know not the names; mince-pies in abundance, and a thing they call plumb-pottage, which may be good for aught i know, though it seems to me to have different tastes. our wines were of the best, as were all the rest of our liquors; in short, the god of plenty seemed to reign here. and, to make every thing perfect, our company was polite, and every way agreeable; nothing but mirth and loyal healths went round. "i allowed myself now but one day more to finish my ramble and my curiosity; and that was last wednesday, being twelfth-day. the preparations which were made for the keeping this day, which is reckoned the conclusion of the holidays, were reported to me to be so great, and the cheerfulness and good humour with which most persons spoke of its approach appeared so remarkable, that my expectation was not a little impatient for the sight of this last scene of the jubilee. and as i had the honour of having been several times invited by a person of quality, with whom i had transacted some affairs since my being in town, to take the freedom of his table; i determined with myself that i could not choose a more agreeable time for the acceptance of his courtesy than this. accordingly, i dressed myself in a manner as suitable as i could to the place where i proposed to make my visit, and took coach for the court end of the town; in my passage to which, from the extreme part of the city, i was highly entertained with almost one continued subject of wonder and amusement. all the trades in town seemed to be suspended for a while, and to yield to that single one of the pastry-cooks; and no other manufactories were thought on but the grocery and confectionary wares, that were taken up in the incredible number of cakes prepared for this night's revel. the pomp and pageantry with which the several pastry-shops were set out, the fancy, richness, and number of their flags and streamers, and the contention which appeared in every one to outdo his neighbour in splendor and delicacy, were pleasingly remarkable; and failed not of attracting the eyes of successive crowds of admirers. "having passed through this diverting scene, i was set down at last at my nobleman's door, who, being at home, gave me a free, noble, and generous reception. there was a pretty deal of company besides, but all perfectly easy and cheerful, without stiffness or ceremony. i need not, i believe, inform you that we had a very elegant and sumptuous entertainment; and that one article of it was the reigning topick of the day, an immense rich twelfth-cake. the sight of this immediately introduced the ceremony of choosing king and queen, a custom, whose rise or antiquity very few i believe are able to give us. through the extraordinary bounty of my stars, the election of king fell upon me; whereupon, i instantly received the compliments of the company upon my new dignity. the title of queen came to a beautiful lady who sat opposite to me. there were inferior characters, which fell amongst others of the company. in short, after having supported my mock royalty with a great deal of innocent and decent mirth for some hours, till the night was pretty far wasted, making my profoundest respects to his lordship and company, and rewarding the servants, according to the rank i had borne that night, i very contentedly drove home, and having taken a hearty sleep, i found myself in the morning entirely divested of all royalty, and no more than your plain humble servant, thomas north." an attempt was made, at the commencement of , to suppress some of the most considerable gaming-houses in london and the suburbs, particularly one behind gray's-inn walks. the editor of the st. james's evening-post, observed upon this occasion: "it may be matter of instruction as well as amusement, to present our readers with the following list of officers which are established in the most notorious gaming-houses. "a _commissioner_, always a proprietor, who looks in of a night; and the week's account is audited by him and two others of the proprietors. "a _director_, who superintends the room. "an _operator_, who deals the cards at a cheating game called faro. "two _crowpees_, who watch the cards, and gather the money for the bank. "two _puffs_, who have money given them to decoy others to play. "a _clerk_, who is a check upon the puffs, to see that they sink none of the money given them to play with. "a _squib_ is a puff of a lower rank, who serves at half-salary, while he is learning to deal. "a _flasher_, to swear how often the bank has been stripped. "a _dunner_, who goes about to recover money lost at play. "a _waiter_, to fill out wine, snuff candles, and attend in the gaming-room. "an _attorney_, a _newgate_ solicitor. "a _captain_, who is to fight any gentleman that is peevish for losing his money. "an _usher_, who lights gentlemen up and down stairs, and gives the word to the porter. "a _porter_, who is generally a soldier of the foot-guards. "an _orderly-man_, who walks up and down the outside of the door, to give notice to the porter, and alarm the house at the approach of the constables. "a _runner_, who is to get intelligence of the justices meetings. "link-boys, watchmen, chairmen, drawers, or others, who bring the first intelligence of the justices meetings, or of the constables being out--half a-guinea reward. "common-bail, affidavit-men, ruffians, bravoes, _cum multis aliis_." to characterise the follies of the day, it will be necessary to add to the account of the _walking_ man, in a preceding page, another of a _hopping_ man, who engaged to hop yards in hops, in st. james's-park, which he performed in . this important event occurred in december . the lord mayor issued a notice in december , observing, that vagrant children were suffered to _skulk_ about the streets and lanes, and sleep upon bulks, stalls, and other places, "whereby many of them perish by the extremity of the weather." in order to prevent this, he commanded constables, &c. to apprehend them, and to have them properly taken care of according to law. the citizens of london have been particularly distinguished for their loyalty since the revolution of ; this they have evinced by public rejoicings or respectful mourning on any great event occurring in the domestic concerns of their sovereigns; thus it has become an established custom to celebrate the marriages of the respective branches of the royal family. when that of the prince of orange and the princess royal took place in march , the city was brilliantly illuminated; but, as that of ludgate exhibited on each front, at the expence of henry vander esche, surpassed every other, i shall present the reader with a minute description. "first, a pyramid, whose base and perpendicular were feet each, on each side of which was placed an obelisk, standing upon a pedestal, supported by the arms of the most noble and antient city of london. "secondly, a little higher on the face of the plan, were interwoven the cyphers of prince william of nassau, and her royal highness the princess anne of great-britain. "lastly, at the extreme height of the building, were the royal arms, over a large transparent semicircle, on which were delineated the several hieroglyphicks following. in the middle stood his highness the prince of orange, hand-in-hand with his illustrious bride, the princess royal. "for these bless'd nuptials, loyal hearts contend which shall the most with ardent joy transcend. "on the left-hand of his highness was represented prudence, by a woman with two faces, having a helmet on her head, a looking-glass in one hand, and in the other a remora, which retards the motion of a ship. "whilst others court applause by feats of arms, the fair, 'tis nassau's wit and prudence, charms. "behind, on the right hand of his highness, appeared the emblem of fortitude, a virtue which enables us to overcome the greatest difficulties, and frequently rewards with riches and glory those who are happily endowed with it. "'tis this which bears aloft on the wings of fame, great cæsar's, and royal william's greater name. "farther forward on the right-hand near his highness stood hymen, the god of marriage, with a burning torch, the emblem of ardent love, in one hand, in the other a flame-coloured veil, the emblem of modesty, called _flammeum_, with which the bride used to be covered to conceal her blushes. "patron of marriage! bless the royal pair, nor veil, nor burning torch are wanting there. "near hymen's right-hand was pourtrayed religion, a woman with her face veiled, fire in her left hand, and in her right a book with a cross; veiled because she is always secret; the cross is the victorious banner of the christian religion; the book the holy scriptures. "true piety ne'er so lovely does appear, as when conspicuous in the great and fair. "over the prince near the sweep of the circle was the figure of fame, holding a trumpet in her right-hand, with which she celebrates the glorious actions of heroes; now flying abroad with this joyful motto: "happy union! happy, thrice happy, may this union be, and prove the firm support of liberty! "on the right-hand of fame was represented diana, the goddess of chastity and sister of apollo, with a crescent on her forehead and lance in her hand; her dress, though careless, yet decent, and behaviour modest and unaffected. "as amongst the rural nymphs her beauties shine, amidst the british fair, so anna, thine. "on the other side of fame, is seen the figure of divine justice, a winged woman with a crown on her head, her hair dishevelled, a sword in the right-hand, and a shield in her left, from which shines the piercing eye of justice; she flying thus to the assistance of hercules, the emblem of heroic virtue, who is chasing away faction, envy, malice, and tyranny, in the defence of britannia, who is seated leaning upon the british arms, holding those of nassau in her right hand. "thrice happy isle, where peace and plenty reign; whose royal fleets give laws unto the main. "on the fore-ground, on the left-hand of the circle, stood peace, a young woman winged, crowned with olive and ears of corn; having seated by her on the ground, plenty crowned with a garland, holding a cornucopiæ in her right hand, denoting the affluence of all things necessary for human life. "what by those joyful emblems are design'd, may britain in abundance ever find; may peace and plenty still join hand-in-hand, and unanimity spread o'er the land! "lastly, on the left-hand and on the foremost ground were thame and isis, whose united streams, as they flow with a long and easy course "so may great nassau and his royal dame, in blended love, glide with a gentle stream, nor ebb 'till sweet repose of night they know, at day's return, fresh tides of transport flow." lamps were used for the above transparencies: the monument was singularly ornamented with lamps suspended on the urn and flame, and the duke of newcastle caused a large bonfire to be lighted before his door in lincoln's-inn-fields, where he regaled the populace with strong-beer. the humane act for the transportation of felons had saved lives in the metropolis alone, from the date of its commencement till . the beau of "was like the cinnamon-tree; his bark is worth more than his body. a creature of the doubtful gender, masculine in habit, and feminine in manners; one who has so little manners, that he himself doth not regard it half so much as his body. all his reading has been the academy of compliments; and his heels have profited as much by it as his head. the cut of his clothes he learnt at paris, the tone of his voice in italy, and his affectation every where. in his dressing he shews his industry; for he spends four hours a day constantly in it without being fatigued or out of patience. his genius appears in the variety of his suits, and his generosity in his taylor's bills; his delicacy in not so much as bearing a breath of wind to blow on him, and his innocency in being seen with ladies at all hours, and never once suspected of doing an uncivil thing. when he is dressed, the business of the day is over; when he is undressed, he grows invisible, for his clothes are all that is seen of him; when he dies, they are his only valuable remains, and hung up as trophies in monmouth-street." the customs and manners of a part of the community of are satirically detailed in a "covent-garden eclogue:" "the _midnight_ justice, now devoid of care, began to slumber in his elbow-chair; long had he wak'd, but now his trade was o'er, nor could expect a single shilling more: the watch had cry'd _past one_, with hollow strain, and to their stands return'd to sleep again; grave cits and bullies, rakes and squeamish beaux, came reeling with their doxies from the rose; jephson's and mitchell's hurry now was done, and now tom king's (so rakes ordain'd) begun; bright shone the moon, and calm around the sky, no cinder-wench, nor straggling link-boy nigh, when in that _garden_, where with mimic pow'r strut the mock-purple heroes of an hour; where by grave _matrons_ cabbages are sold, who all the live-long day drink _gin_ and _scold_;" &c. the st. james's evening post of august , , contains the following paragraph: "yesterday the antient company of archers of this city met at the pied horse, at the artillery-ground, where a grand entertainment was provided for them, after which they performed their exercise with bows and arrows. this company is of several hundred years standing, and used formerly to muster at this time of the year in the artillery-ground, as our trained bands do now. some time after the invention of fire-arms the city voted them useless; but they have ever since kept up the company and their annual meeting, having a marshal handsomely equipped in a green livery with a large silver badge." michaelmas or mile-end fair was presented as a nuisance by the grand jury of middlesex in , which had been extended to seven days continuance beyond the original grant. another royal marriage was celebrated in , which is so amply described by read in his weekly journal of may , that i cannot do better than give it in his own words: "monday between one and two in the afternoon his royal highness the prince of wales set out from st. james's, and crossing the water at whitehall, went on horseback to greenwich, where he dined with the princess, and returned in the evening to st. james's in his barge. "the crowd of people at greenwich was the greatest that had ever been seen; it is thought there was not less than , persons at one time in the park: and her highness had the goodness to shew herself for upwards of half an hour from the gallery of the palace, which drew the loudest acclamations. "on tuesday the king's leading coach, followed by his majesty's body coach, drawn by his cream-coloured horses, brought her highness and her retinue to lambeth, where the king's barge waited, and carried her over to whitehall, and from thence in the king's own chair through the park to st. james's house, where the court was in the drawing-rooms, and appeared in their new clothes to receive her with all imaginable splendor. "when her royal highness the princess came to st. james's, she was dressed in a suit of rich silk; deep ground, trimmed with gold; and embroidered with green, scarlet, and purple flowers: in which manner her highness was so condescending, that she shewed herself in several of the windows of the prince of wales's apartments, to gratify the curiosity of the people, who expressed their joy and satisfaction with the loudest acclamations. "about four o'clock her highness dined with the prince of wales and the princess amelia and caroline, in his royal highness's apartment. "between six and seven o'clock her highness, dressed in her wedding-clothes, which were of silver tissue, and all over white, with her hair curled and stuck with jewels, after the german fashion, was presented to her majesty, who presented her to the prince; whose clothes were of silver tissue, with white shoes and stockings. "in the evening the ceremony of the marriage was performed; and the procession from the king's apartments down the great stairs, under the piazza, to the chapel royal, was as follows: four drums, drum-major, eight trumpets, four and four. kettle-drum. serjeant-trumpeter in his collar of ss. bearing his mace. the master of the ceremonies, with the right honourable the lord carnarvon, gentleman usher, between the two senior heralds. the prince of wales in his nuptial apparel, invested with the collar of the garter, conducted by the lord chamberlain and vice chamberlain, and supported by two lords bachelors. the officers attendant upon the prince followed by pairs. "upon the entry into the chapel, the master of the ceremonies, with the gentleman usher, went to the seats assigned them; and the bridegroom was brought to the stool placed for his highness, fronting his majesty's throne. "the lord chamberlain and vice chamberlain returned to conduct the bride; and the two heralds returned with them to perform other functions, as did the drums and trumpets. _procession of the bride._ "gentleman usher to the bride, between two provincial kings at arms. the bride, in her nuptial habit, with a coronet, conducted by the lord chamberlain and vice chamberlain, and supported by the duke of cumberland; her train borne by ten young ladies. "upon the entry, the bride was conducted to her stool, below her majesty's chair of state, opposite to the prince; the duke sat on a stool near the altar; and the ladies who bore the train stood near the bride, to perform their duties while the marriage was solemnizing. "the lord chamberlain and vice chamberlain returned, with the provincial kings, to wait upon his majesty. _his majesty proceeded in this manner._ "knight marshal. pursuivants. heralds. sir robert walpole, knight of the garter, with his collar. the comptroller of the household. the bishop of london, &c. two provincial kings at arms. lord privy seal. lord chancellor. garter principal king at arms, between two gentlemen ushers. the earl marshal with his gold staff. the sword of state carried by the duke of portland. his majesty in the great collar of the garter. the lord of the bed-chamber in waiting. "her majesty, preceded by mr. coke, vice chamberlain, and supported by the earl of grantham, her lord chamberlain, and the earl of pomfret, her master of the horse. "the princesses amelia, carolina, mary, and louisa, supported severally by two gentlemen ushers. "the ladies of her majesty's bed-chamber, maids of honour, and women of the bed-chamber. "upon the entry into the chapel, none of the persons in this procession remained upon the hautpas, except the lord of the bed-chamber in waiting behind the king, the lord who bore the sword, who continued holding it erect upon his majesty's right-hand, and the lord chamberlain, who stood upon the left-hand of his majesty, having the vice chamberlain next to him. "his majesty was seated in his chair of state in the upper angle of the hautpas, on the right side. "her majesty was seated in her chair of state, on the other side of the hautpas. "and the four princesses on stools placed next the duke at the side of the altar. "her majesty's lord chamberlain, master of the horse, and vice chamberlain, stood upon the hautpas behind her. "the ladies of the bed-chamber, &c. went to the places assigned them. "during all this time the organ played; but, as soon as the persons were thus seated, the organ ceased, and divine service began. "after the bishop of london and dean of the chapel had given the blessing, their majesties removed to the throne, erected on the right-hand of the altar of crimson velvet, richly laced with gold. "then the prince of wales, leading the princess of wales, went up to the altar, and kneeled there. "when the dean had finished the divine service, the married pair rose, and retired back to their stools upon the hautpas; where they remained while an anthem composed by mr. handel was sung by his majesty's band of musick, which was placed in a gallery over the communion-table. _the return was in the manner following._ "the drums, &c. as before. "the prince of wales, supported by two married dukes, &c. "the princess, supported as before. "then their majesties and the princesses, in the same manner as they went to the chapel. "as soon as the procession came back to the door of the latter drawing-room, the company stopped; but their majesties, the prince and princess of wales, the duke and the princesses, went in, when the prince and princess received their majesties' blessing. "about half an hour after ten the royal family supped in public, in the great state ballroom. their majesties were placed at the upper end of the table under a canopy: on the right-hand the prince of wales and the duke; and on the left the princess of wales, and the princesses amelia, &c. "the first course consisted of fifteen dishes cold and fifteen hot, the second of thirty dishes hot; and then came the dessert, which formed a fine garden rising to a terrace, the ascent to which was adorned with the resemblance of fountains, grottoes, groves, flowers, &c. in the middle was the temple of hymen, the dome of which was supported on transparent columns three foot high. as the meats were the most exquisite and rare that could be procured, so the dessert contained a profusion of the finest fruits, amongst which were cherries in great perfection, apricots, pine-apples, &c. at the end of the first course, their majesties drank to the bride and bridegroom; and soon after, the prince and princesses rising up, drank the healths of their majesties, during which the duke and princesses stood likewise. when the royal family rose from table, the sweetmeats were distributed amongst the quality. "their majesties retired to the apartments of his royal highness the prince of wales; the bride was conducted to her bed-chamber, and the bridegroom to his dressing-room, where the duke undressed him, and his majesty did his royal highness the honour to put on his shirt. the bride was undressed by the princesses; and being in bed in a rich undress, his majesty came into the room, and the prince following soon after in a night-gown of silver stuff, and cap of the finest lace, the quality were admitted to see the bride and bridegroom sitting up in the bed, surrounded by all the royal family. "his majesty was dressed in a gold brocade turned up with silk, embroidered with large flowers in silver and colours, as was the waistcoat; the buttons and star were diamonds. her majesty was in a plain yellow silk, robed and laced with pearl diamonds, and other jewels of immense value. "the dukes of grafton, newcastle, and st. alban's, the earl of albemarle, lord hervey, colonel pelham, and many other noblemen, were in gold brocades of to _l._ a suit. the duke of marlborough was in a white velvet and gold brocade, upon which was an exceeding rich point d'espagne; the earl of euston, and many others, were in cloths flowered or sprigged with gold; the duke of montague in a gold brocaded tissue. the waistcoats were universally brocades, with large flowers. it is assured that most of the rich cloths were the manufacture of england; and it must be acknowledged, in honour of our own artists, that the few which were french did not come up to these in richness, goodness, or fancy, as may be seen by the royal family, which are all of the british manufacture. "the ladies were principally in brocades of gold and silver, with large flowers, and wore their sleeves much lower than had been done for some time. "some worthy citizens, on this further strengthening the protestant succession, a truly joyful occasion, finely illuminated the monument (as was indeed the whole city), to shew their regard to his majesty, and his most illustrious family, the great protectors of it. "at the drawing-room on wednesday morning his royal highness saluted all the ladies, and afterwards the princess amelia presented them to her royal highness, to kiss her hand; when the honourable colonel townshend informed her royal highness of the names of every particular lady as they came up. "his royal highness presented all his chief officers and servants himself to his royal consort; and they had severally the honour of kissing her royal highness's hand. "wednesday at noon there was the greatest appearance of the nobility, quality, and gentry at court, that has been known in the memory of man, to congratulate their royal highnesses on their nuptials. "the ladies were variously dressed, though with all the richness and grandeur imaginable; many of them had their heads dressed english of fine brussels lace, of exceeding rich patterns, made up on narrow wires, and small round rolls, and the hair pinned to large puff caps, and but a few without powder; some few had their hair curled down on the sides: pink and silver, white and gold, were the general knots wore. there were a vast number in dutch heads, their hair curled down in short curls on the sides and behind; and some had their hair in large ringlets behind, all very much powdered, with ribbands frilled on their heads variously disposed, and some had diamonds set on ribbands on their heads; laced tippets were pretty general, and some had ribbands between the frills; treble-laced ruffles were universally worn, though abundance had them not tacked up. their gowns were either gold stuffs, or rich silks, with gold or silver flowers, or pink or white silks, with either gold or silver nets, or trimmings; the sleeves to the gowns were middling (not so short as formerly) and wide, and their facings and robings broad; several had flounced sleeves and petticoats, and gold or silver fringe set on the flounces; some had stomachers of the same sort of the gown, others had large bunches of made flowers at their breasts; the gowns were variously pinned, but in general flat, the hoops french, and the petticoats of a moderate length, and a little sloped behind. the ladies were exceeding brilliant likewise in jewels, some had them in their necklaces and ear-rings, others with diamond solitaires to pearl necklaces of three or four rows; some had necklaces of diamonds and pearls intermixed, but made up very broad; several had their gown-sleeves buttoned with diamonds, others had diamond sprigs in their hair, &c. the ladies' shoes were exceeding rich, being either pink, white, or green silk, with gold or silver lace and braid all over, with low heels, and low hind-quarters, and low flaps, and abundance had large diamond shoe-buckles. "the gentlemen's clothes were generally gold stuffs, flowered velvets, embroidered or trimmed with gold, or cloth trimmed, the colours various. their waistcoats were also exceeding rich silks flowered with gold, of a large pattern, all open sleeves, and longer than formerly, and the cuff broader; the clothes were longer waisted than of late, and the plaits of the coat were made to stick out very much (in imitation of the ladies hoops) and long. the wigs were of various sorts; the tyes, higher foretops than formerly, and tied behind with a large flat tye; the bag-wigs, &c. as usual. white stockings were universally worn by the gentlemen as well as the ladies. "her royal highness the princess of wales left guineas to be distributed among sir john jennings's servants at greenwich. "the officers of the horse and foot-guards that mounted on tuesday at st. james's wore ramellie periwigs by his majesty's order." the now almost obsolete practice of giving strong-beer to the populace on public rejoicings always occasioned riots instead of merriment. this assertion is supported by the behaviour of the mob in august , when the present duchess of brunswick was born. the prince of wales ordered four loads of faggots and a number of tar-barrels to be burnt before carleton-house as a bonfire, to celebrate the event; and directed the brewer to his household to place four barrels of beer near it, for the use of those who chose to partake of the beverage, which certain individuals had no sooner done, than they pronounced the liquor of an inferior quality: this declaration served as a signal for revolt, the beer was thrown into each other's faces, and the barrels into the fire, "to the great surprize of the spectators; it being perhaps the first instance of sir john barleycorn's being brought to the stake, and publicly burnt by the rabble in great britain." the prince had the good-nature to order a second bonfire on the succeeding night, and procured the same quantity of beer from another brewer, with which the populace were pleased to be satisfied. such was the strange disposition of the collected mind of the lower classes; a mind compounded of insensibility of kindness, pride, and independence, that condescended to accept of an entertainment, and that had the ill-nature to condemn the provision even in the presence of their prince, who must have been ignorant that the beer was bad--_if it really was so_. an instance of blind folly arising from a better motive occurred very soon after, during the exercise of an antient custom practised by the mob at that period, though now discontinued. two loose women had seized upon an inebriated gentleman, and were conveying him to their lodgings at noon-day: the populace concluded he would at least be robbed, and determined to rescue him immediately; which they did, and severely ducked the women in the chequers inn yard. thus far justice proceeded in its due channel; but an unfortunate journeyman cutler happened to exert himself rather too outrageously, and attracted notice: he was observed to hold the woman or women in a manner that might be supposed real efforts of anger, or as efforts intended to mask an intention to release them; the word was instantly given to duck him as _their bully_--the women were released, and escaped; the cutler was thrown into the horse-pond in defiance of his protestations of innocence; and when his wife endeavoured to rescue him, she underwent the same discipline. many of the follies committed in this wanton manner must doubtlessly have originated from the excessive use of beer and gin; to suppress which, every possible effort was then making; but such was the demand for the latter, that no less than persons were convicted, and paid a penalty of _l._ each, between september and august , for retailing it, besides committed to bridewell. _practical_ jokes sometimes distinguished the manners of the citizens of london: those were generally innocent, and generally very silly; but one of a contrary description marked the autumn of the year just mentioned. a well-dressed man rode down the king's road from fulham at a most furious rate, commanding each turnpike-gate to be thrown open, as he was a messenger, conveying the news of the queen's sudden death. the alarm instantly spread into every quarter of the city; the trained-bands, who were on their parade, desisted from their exercise, furled their colours, and returned home with their arms reversed. the shop-keepers began to collect sables; when the jest was discovered, but not the author of it. the following ballad gives a pleasant review of the customs, or, if you please, fashions of the citizens, previous to , in care of their health: "on fashions a ditty i mean to indite, since surely you'll own, 'tis the fashion to write: and, if you don't like it, then e'en lay it down, the fashion is not to be scar'd with a frown. to fashion our healths, as our figures, we owe; and, while 'twas the fashion to _tunbridge_ to go, its waters ne'er fail'd us, let ail us what wou'd; it cemented crack'd bones, and it sweeten'd the blood. when fashion resolv'd to raise _epsom_ to fame, poor _tunbridge_ did nought: but the blind or the lame, or the sick or the healthy, 'twas equally one, by _epsom's_ assistance their business was done. _bath's_ springs next in fashion came rapidly on, and out-did by far whate'er _epsom_ had done; there the gay and the sullen found instant relief, and the sighing young widow was eas'd of her grief. unrival'd by any, _bath_ flourish'd alone, and fail'd not to cure in gout, colic, or stone, till _scarborough_ waters, by secret unknown, stole all the fam'd qualities _bath_ thought her own. ev'n _islington_ waters, _though close to the town_, by fashion one summer were brought to renown; where we flock'd in such numbers, that for a supply, we almost had tippled the _new-river dry_. it late was the fashion by _ward_ to be cur'd; and his pill mov'd the cause on't, whate'er we endur'd; while every eye saw on which _taylor_ laid hand, and no cripple _mapp_ touch'd, but could instantly stand. but since 'tis the fashion to banter their skill, our eyes are relaps'd, and we're worse for the pill; our joints are contracted, our anguish so sore, we fly to the doctors we laugh'd at before." one of the strange and perverse customs practised by the society of quakers is, their determination to open their shops on those days held sacred by other classes of religion. on the fast-day of february , the lord mayor sent the proper officers to close their windows _per_ force, which they did to the number of : yet a person of this persuasion had the presumption to wait on the chief magistrate with an anonymous letter he had received, threatening to destroy his house if his windows were opened, at the same time soliciting him to go there and read the riot act; thus demanding protection from the vengeance he provoked, by insulting the piety of others, exclusive of the impiety of opposing respect and supplication, directed to the same divinity he worships. curiosity may be said to have become so prevalent throughout all classes of the inhabitants of london, that it is actually a distinguishing trait in their general character; nor is it by any means a new one, an assertion that might be supported by many proofs. an essayist of says: "i have that opinion of the ladies and gentlemen of the present age, that if the french were in full march along the new-road, and they had no engagement of pleasure on their hands, they would go out to see a _new_ army, as, indeed, there would be a variety in it; the clothes, standards, &c. being different; nor do i believe that any one person would put off their intended pleasure, even though they heard the enemy's drums beating." portrait of a beau, . "would you a modern beau commence, shake off that foe to pleasure, sense; be trifling, talkative, and vain; of ev'ry absent friend complain. their worth contemn, their faults deride, with all the insolence of pride. scorn real unaffected worth, that claims no ancestry by birth: despise the virtuous, good, and brave, to ev'ry passion be a slave. let not sincerity molest, or discompose your tranquil breast; barter discretion, wit, and ease, as idle things, that seldom please the young and gay, who laugh and wink at senseless drones who read and think; who all the fleeting hours count o'er, and wish the four-and-twenty more; furnish'd with volumes in their head, above all fire, below all lead. be it your passion, joy, and fame, to play at ev'ry modish game, fondly to flatter and caress; a critick styl'd in point of dress; harangue on fashions, point, and lace, on this one's errors, t'other's face; talk much of italy and france, of a new song and country-dance; be vers'd in politicks and news; all statesmen, ministers, abuse; set public places in a blaze: loudly exclaim 'gainst shakspeare's plays; despise such low insipid strains, fitted for philosophic brains: but modern tragedies extol, as kindling rapture in the soul. affect to know each reigning belle, that throngs the playhouse or the mell, declare you're intimate with all you once have met with at a ball; at ev'ry female boldly stare, and crowd the circles of the fair. tho' swearing you detest a fool, be vers'd in folly's ample school: learn all her various schemes, her arts, to shew your merit, wit, and parts. these rules observ'd, each foppish elf may view an emblem of himself." _london chronicle._ terms--vacations. the reader who has waded through my _londinium_ will find that several thousands of our vast community are of that profession which might furnish matter for a very considerable number of pages--_lawyers_; but what can i say of their manners or customs, without incurring a charge of fixing upon a _single class_, and of thus appearing particular in praising or censuring? in this dilemma i have very fortunately met with the "long vacation, by jemmy copywell, of lincoln's-inn;" which the writer and the editor of the london chronicle, _foreseeing_ the use i should make of it, have kindly preserved for the present purpose. "my lord now quits his venerable seat, the six-clerk on his padlock turns the key, from bus'ness hurries to his snug retreat, and leaves vacation and the town to me. now all is hush'd, asleep the eye of care, and lincoln's-inn a solemn stillness holds, save where the porter whistles o'er the square; or pompey barks, or basket-woman scolds. save, that from yonder pump, and dusty stair, the moping shoe-black, and the laundry-maid, complain of such as from the town repair, and leave their usual quarterage unpaid. in those dull chambers, where old parchments lie, and useless drafts, in many a mould'ring heap, each for parade to catch the client's eye; salkeld and ventris in oblivion sleep. in these dead hours, what now remains for me, still to the stool and to the desk confin'd: debarr'd from autumn shades, and liberty, whose lips are soft as my cleora's kind!" * * * * * "see term appears to rule a passive world, and awe the frighted rustick with its train of wigs and gowns, and bands. the jemmy clerk, close by his master's side, stands powder'd, while his client at a distance cringes. now, thou dear associate of my busy hours, whom (since vacation in her sleepy lap lull'd me to indolence, circæan queen, who poisons while she smiles) i have disdain'd, welcome to my embrace--once again thy presence let me hail--i greet thee well. now will i lead thee thro' the maze of law, perplexing and perplex'd. the knotty point, and ev'ry quirk and quibble, will i shew: and sometimes on huge folios shalt thou tread with black-brow'd sections hideous. there, intent, the puzzling clause shalt thou transcribe, until thy pilot sickens. strait he shall revive, and speed thy flight to equitable shores. there shalt thou penetrate each deep recess, and labour'd labyrinth of a bill _in canc._ daring to face tautology. how thick thy stream will run, respondent to each note of dull interrogation! quickly thence, as time may prompt, and active fancy flow, thy font i'll purify, and turn its course o'er fairy mountains and poetic vales. say! hadst thou rather the demurrer's bar erect invincible, than waft my sighs to my cythera's bosom, and direct her eyes, those lamps of beauty, where to shine? when cupid's messenger, how dost thou fly, swifter almost than thought! and as i touch, in honour of my love, the sapphic lyre, methinks thy feather dances to the tune. but, when i bid thee up the heavy hill, where bus'ness sits, to travel, how thy pace wants quick'ning! this and that way dost thou writhe, convolv'd, uneasy with the tiresome march. hold up awhile--for sure is the reward that waits on labour--bear, oh! bear me thou thro' long succeeding covenants, from sense however devious. spread thy black'ning cloud o'er this fair face of parchment--haste, dispatch this cumbrous load of things. on, quicker on, and rid me of the bus'ness of the term. then in reward for all thy service past (tho' gratitude be held a crime) thy plume with gold shall blazon. safe in silver case shalt thou recline, from vulgar ken remote, nor ever visit more the sons of care, unless to win respect, and be admir'd." the conduct of both sexes, when mixed in what are generally termed parties, can only be known by the person who actually views it. how then am i (who had not received the breath of life in ) to draw a faithful picture of the manners of that period? there is but one way, quotation from contemporary moralists. the craftsman says, "a frenchman has no more idea of a party of pleasure without ladies, than an englishman can entertain the least conception of enjoying himself until they retreat. from those opposite dispositions it arises, that the first introduces himself with a becoming unconcern into company, and master of that _bienseance_ which distinguishes the gentleman, and performs all offices of life without the least embarrassment; whereas nothing is more common among us, than to find gentlemen of family and fortune, who know nothing of the fair sex but what they have collected from the most abandoned part of it, and can scarce reckon a virtuous family within the scope of their whole acquaintance. it is not unpleasant to observe one of this class, when chance or necessity has brought him in a room with ladies of reputation. an awkward restraint hangs about him, and he is almost afraid to speak, lest he should inadvertently bolt out something, which, though extremely suitable to the dialect of covent-garden, would be grossly offensive to those females who had not received their rudiments of education in that seminary. the gloom that hangs over an english company while the ladies remain, and the reciprocal restraint that each sex seems to be upon the other, has been frequently a subject of ludicrous observation to foreigners; and, indeed, the fair-ones themselves, _though natives, and to the manner born_, frequently express astonishment, what mysteries the men can have to celebrate, so opposite to those of the _bona dea_, that no female must be present at the ceremony. "at the same time that i condemn my countrymen for separating themselves from those who have the art of refining every joy this world affords; i am sorry to be obliged to observe, that the ladies themselves do in some measure contribute to this great evil. the scandalous practice so prevalent at present of giving up their whole thoughts as well as time to cards, has made the company of women, pardon the expression, extremely insipid to those who would willingly consider them as rational creatures, and do not depend upon superior skill in the game of whist for a subsistence. is it to be imagined that a man, whose mind is the least raised above the vulgar, will devote that time which he may employ in conversing agreeably, either with the dead or the living, to those assemblies, where no ideas enter beyond the respective excellences of garrick and cibber; and the several possible cases so profoundly calculated by the incomparable mr. hoyle? yet, from declining these places, i know many intimate friends who have acquired the odious character of women-haters; though at the same time they entertain the highest esteem for that amiable sex, and sincerely regret that the tyrant fashion has put it out of their power to enjoy more of their company than a bare view of their persons, agitated by the various and uncertain revolutions of fortune's wheel." education of youth. foreigners very justly conceive that a double advantage may be accomplished in teaching their languages to youth and adults, by introducing them into their families; the latter pronounce nothing but what is to be acquired, and the teacher obtains a handsome sum for lodgings and board. it may be supposed that this was a modern invention. who is there that doth not recollect the advertisements of monsieur du m----d; but monsieur switterda precedes him a whole century; and proves that the rage for acquiring french was in full vigour when our grandfathers were infants. "mr. switterda has lately given, in the postman, a very kind and candid invitation to the nobility and gentry to learn of him to speak latin, french, and high dutch fluently, with as good grace as if it were natural to them, and no wise _pednatick_, according to grammar rules, and to explain any author, as erasmus, c. nepos, &c.; but few noblemen and ladies of quality have taken notice of his proposals, which, if he had sent them in any country beyond sea, had been well accepted, to his great advantage. he intends to dispose of two copper-plates, containing the grounds of the latin tongue. those who will study in divinity, law, or physick, may but come twice a-week to him to learn latin. he can be aspersed by none, but by slanderous and interested persons, who have need to lodge a competent dose of hellebore in themselves. youth may board with him at his house in arundel-street, next to the temple passage, where you may have the grounds of the latin tongue in three sheets of paper, or grammatical, and latin and french historical cards, and a packet to learn _copiam verborum_ and _syntaxim ornatam_. he teacheth also in drury-lane, within two doors of the dog-tavern, at mr. peache's house, or at any place where ladies and gentlemen will appoint him, if it be worth his acceptance. thursdays and saturdays, from five till eight, he teacheth at the cock and bottle in the strand, next to salisbury-street. _invidiam solertia et virtute vincam._" . ladies boarding-schools were in high reputation at the same period, and had been so for many years before. mrs. bellpine, daughter to mr. la marre, a french minister, who had kept one for thirty years, hired mary-le-bon house, near the church, where she professed to teach every thing then taught in boarding-schools, together with musick, dancing, and singing. observers frequently attacked the general system of female education, and as frequently exposed the frivolous pursuits taught in the various schools near the metropolis; even in the year , two or three houses might be seen in almost every village, with the inscription, "young ladies boarded and educated," where every description of tradesmen sent their children to be instructed, not in the useful attainments necessary for humble life, but the arts of coquetry and self-consequence--in short, those of a _young lady_. the person who received the children had then the sounding title of governess; and french and dancing-masters prepared the girl for the hour when contempt for her parents' deficiencies was to be substituted for affection and respect. instead of reading their native language with propriety and just emphasis, it was totally neglected, and in place of nervous sentences and flowing periods, the vulgarisms of low life were continued; while the lady repeated familiar words of the french language with a sound peculiar to boarding-schools, and quite unintelligible to a native of france: the pleasing labours of the needle were thrown aside, and the young lady soon became an adept in imitating laces and spoiling the beauty of coloured silks. such were the follies of ; and they so nearly resemble those of , that i really dread i shall be supposed to criticise the moderns, when i am in truth repeating the animadversions of an author probably long since deceased. "_jan. , ._ "at a meeting of the society for reformation of manners, especially with respect to the lord's-day: ordered, that the thanks of the society be returned to the worthy person, unknown, for his kind present of ten guineas. they also hereby give notice to all grocers, chandlers, butchers, publicans, pastry-cooks, and others whom it may concern; that they are resolved to put the laws in execution against all such as shall continue to offend, by exercising their callings on the lord's day, in such a manner as may most effectually suppress that great and growing evil, whether by indictments or otherwise, of which they are desired to take this friendly public warning." the reader will observe, that it has long been customary for tradesmen of the above description to sell on sundays; but it should be recollected that the lowest classes of the community are sometimes paid very late on saturday evenings, and that they have it not always in their power to arrange their time, so as to procure every necessary for the only holiday they have. when such wants are supplied by the tradesman _before the hour of divine service_, he must be a rigid moralist indeed who would prosecute the offender. if persons in opulent circumstances were in the practice of purchasing on sundays, it could be attributed to no other cause than mere indolence in themselves and servants, and they would deserve punishment; but i cannot help thinking a grocer or chandler would find very little account from opening his shop for such, as i do not believe there are five in each parish throughout london. for the pastry-cooks and publicans i have no excuse. there were people in the middle of the last century who had so little regard for decency, that they even interrupted those solemn hours of silence which are devoted, in our courts of justice, to ascertaining the guilt or innocence of persons whose lives are in question. would it be credited that when an evidence was speaking, a jury and a judge listening, spectators should be seen in deep discourse upon some irrelevant subject, others quarrelling about places, and young ladies actually sewing each other's clothes together amidst titters and suppressed laughter--yet such _was_ the fact. surely this practice cannot _now_ prevail. illegal concerts were held in , and the conductors of them collected innocent young men and apprentices, by declaring that the receipts were intended for charitable purposes. when assembled, notorious procuresses made their appearance, attended by the cyprians, their progeny; and the consequence to the manners of youth may be imagined. sir john fielding, acting under the authority of the following clause in a very salutary act of parliament, and supported by a party of guards, dispersed one of those riotous assemblies in april of the above year, and sent the _ladies_ to bridewell: "any house, room, garden, or other place, kept for public dancing, music, or other public entertainment of the like kind, in london and westminster, or within miles thereof, without a licence had for that purpose, shall be deemed a disorderly house or place; and that it shall be lawful for any person, authorised by warrant from a justice, to enter such house, and seize every person found therein; and that every person keeping such house, &c. without such licence shall forfeit _l._ and be otherwise punishable as the law directs in case of disorderly houses." since sir john fielding's time, the publick have frequently had occasion to applaud the vigilance of the police in their attempts to prevent illegal assemblies, whether under the title of concerts or dances; and instances might be related when dancing-masters and groupes of their pretended scholars have visited the watch-house; but the most obstinate places of vicious amusement were the dog and duck, and the apollo-gardens, in st. george's-fields; the latter of which is not only now suppressed, but the site has become a mere level, and the dog and duck served for several years as a public kitchen for charitable purposes, after the keeper had been expelled. at the latter place there was a long room furnished with tables and benches, and at the upper-end an organ. the company who assembled in the evening, consisted of some of the finest women of the town of the middle rank, their bullies, and such young men as could, without reflection, condescend to supply the thirsty palates of the women with inflaming liquids: the conversation was--reader, imagine what! the apollo-gardens might _accidentally_ receive decent visitors, but i presume their stay to have been short. these places flourished much too long; infinite injury was done by them. but we have now the consolation to reflect, that vice is compelled to hide her fascinating visage; and though it is impossible to dive into all her haunts, we do not find them blazoned with large characters in the public ways, where her votaries however contrive intimations which are passed unobserved by the virtuous, but understood by the vicious; and these bagnio's, seraglio's, or whatever else the reader pleases to term them, are in many instances large and handsome houses. the lady who trades upon her own account can never be at a loss for a sign to indicate her profession, as long as her own sweet person is permitted to appear at a window, either in _elegant disorder_, or habited fit for a drawing-room. how shall i number these signs, or the streets where they most abound? the reader would disbelieve the enumeration. when some concurring circumstances have prevented the rapid letting of new houses in parts of the parish of st. mary-le-bon, i believe it might be safely asserted, that builders have admitted persons into them who had a girl in almost every room as a distinct lodger; but they are generally _dislodged_ as respectable inhabitants approach, and they return to their previous haunts in more obscure situations. exeter-street was dreadfully infested with wretched women and thieves in , and great difficulty occurred in driving them from it; that it has been accomplished, may serve as a hint for some modern unfortunate neighbourhoods. there are but few of our essayists who have not reprobated the distribution of _vales_ to the domesticks of those to whom visits were paid. when the custom was in full vigour, the office of a footman became very lucrative, and the division of the profits arising from the contributions of a large company, was a matter of no small importance to the parti-coloured mendicants; who arranged themselves in their master's hall in double ranks, prepared to affront those who infringed their rights, and were barely civil when they received sums which would have procured meals for fifty poor families. card-money, or money deposited under the candlesticks for the servants where card-parties were held, deserved less reprehension, as it was in every one's power to avoid gaming; but when a man in moderate circumstances was insulted for not giving that which was necessary for his own existence, or was compelled to decline an invitation to his injury, we cannot but wonder that such a custom should have prevailed for a year, much less a century or more. it was meanness in the master to suffer such an exaction, and folly to comply with it when himself a visitor. some serious attempts were made about to abolish vales, which has been at length gradually accomplished, though there are still unthinking people who give where it is not expected. cock-fighting, cudgel-playing, and boxing, were practised in some parts of the metropolis in ; and most of the promoters of those elegant customs escaped punishment. higginson, master of the tennis-court and little theatre in james-street, near the haymarket, less fortunate, was tried at the bar of the king's-bench, and convicted of encouraging this species of brutality; however, mr. higginson contrived either to set the verdict at defiance, or to evade future penalties, for subsequent newspapers contained long accounts of a battle between meggs, a collier, and the celebrated nailor, at the tennis-court, where the seats let at _s._ and _s._ _d._ to an overflowing audience. the reader will forgive me, if i at once proceed to notice this hateful custom of boxing in its present state; he need not be informed that it has been encouraged by persons of the highest rank, who have been and are now known to disgrace their situation in life, by witnessing the infliction of blows which sometimes produce death, and always disfigure the human form, for the avaricious purpose of betting on either party, to the injury at least of their fortunes. the magistracy, well aware of the wiles and power of their antagonists in the race between justice and depravity, made but few movements for a considerable length of time, by which means they gained to their support all well-disposed persons; in consequence, their exertions have been so far successful, that when matches are made for battles, cavalcades of lords, knights, commoners, dustmen, and the rabble in general, may be observed in motion, destined for an _arena_--they know not where, as the spot fixed upon for the scene of combat is frequently occupied by a party of officers of the police previous to their arrival. thus defeated, they have been known to traverse the roads and fields for miles, to enter some jurisdiction independent of their persecutors. cock-fighting is yet _permitted_ to be publicly advertised, though but seldom; and cudgel-playing has lately exhibited some strong symptoms of revival. "hints by the cobler of cripplegate, [ :a]. "he could wish to see butchers' boys, who gallop through the streets of london, punished for so doing, or at least their horses seized for the use of the poor of the parish in which they so offend; for, though a poor man's life may not be worth preserving, his limbs may be of use to him while he crawls upon earth. "brewers starting their butts in the day-time, he considers as an intolerable nuisance. "ruinous houses ought to be pulled down, because they may as well tumble upon the head of an alderman as upon that of a cobler. "a regulation in smithfield-market, he thinks, ought to take place, because a mad ox may as well gore the lady of a _knight banneret_, as a poor oyster-wench. "worn-out hackney-coaches should in a particular manner be looked into, because none but those in easy circumstances can be affected by their breaking-down in the streets. this regulation in no shape regards my family, because i never suffer my _moll_ to enter one till i have first properly surveyed it. "that cheesemongers should not set out their butter and cheese so near the edge of their shop-windows, nor put their firkins in the path-ways, by which many a good coat and silk gown may be spoiled; as by advertising in the papers his shop will be sufficiently known, without carrying home the shop-bill upon their clothes. "ladders, pieces of timber, &c. should by no means be suffered to be carried upon men's shoulders within the posts of this city, because, by a sudden stop, they may as well poke out the eye of a rich man as that of a poor one. "chairmen, as they are a kind of human nags, ought to amble without-side the posts as well as other brutes. "it is needless for ladies of a certain cast to patrole the streets at noon-day with a bundle in one hand, as they carry an evident sign of their profession in their eye. "long swords are a nuisance in the city at change-time, as the wearer may very well receive a bill without that dangerous weapon; and as it is not often he comes into it to pay one. "churches are no places to sleep in, because, if a person snores too loud, he not only disturbs the congregation, but is apt to ruffle the preacher's temper. "barbers and chimney-sweepers have no right by charter to rub against a person well-dressed, and then offer him satisfaction by single combat. "splashing a gentleman with white silk stockings designedly is a breach of decency, and utterly unknown at wapping or hockley in the hole. "that reading these hints and not endeavouring to redress them, will be a fault somewhere, but not in crispin." the whimsical manner in which the above customs are reprehended, was fairly matched by the following notice from the publick advertiser, issued in downright serious earnest. "to the inhabitants of the parish of st. faith. "i have observed of late years, that the london meeting-houses of all sectaries have crowded audiences, and that the prayers of our established church are read, and the sermons of her ministers preached, to empty seats, unless at places where some new-fangled doctrines are propagated to captivate weak minds. it becomes me as an honest man, and agreeable to the oath i have taken, earnestly to admonish you to attend the service of the church on sundays, unless prevented by occasions that are lawful. "it requires i should give you this notice publicly, that no person may have reason to think me over-officious, if he finds his name among the presentments my oath obliges me to exhibit before the ecclesiastical court at the expiration of my office. david rice, _churchwarden_." celebration of the present monarch's accession--marriage--and visit to guildhall. the spirits of the community were never more exhilarated than at the auspicious period which gave england her present king and queen. the coronation was necessarily similar to those described in _londinium redivivum_; and the simplicity of our church in the article of marriage admits of little more splendour than that of dress, at all times superb on such occasions in the british court. the fireworks, illuminations, and behaviour of the populace, who were in some instances regaled with beer round a bonfire, was generally decorous, and in some measure compels me to silence as to incidents, except in one particular case, when an odd scene of _midnight gratitude_ was exhibited to earl temple and mr. pitt, who were returning _incog._ from guildhall, where they had dined on the th of november . the instant those patriots were recognized, the multitude crowded round the carriage, impeded its progress, and shouted with so much ardour, that the sleeping neighbours were roused, and, when they had discovered the cause of the tumult, heartily joined in the shouts with nightcaps instead of hats in hand. the report of the committee appointed to provide the entertainment on the above day, will evince how well they performed their duty. "at a court of common council held june , , the following report was presented to the court: "_to the right honourable the lord mayor, aldermen, and commons of the city of london, in common-council assembled._ "we your committee, appointed by your order, of the third day of october last, to manage the entertainment for their majesties at the guildhall of this city, on the then ensuing lord mayor's day, beg leave to report, that duly sensible of the great honour done us in this appointment, we cheerfully devoted our time and utmost endeavours to prepare and regulate the said entertainment, so as best to answer the intention of this honourable court. "in the preparations for the intended feast, your committee omitted no expence that might serve to improve its splendour, elegance, or accommodation: whilst on the other hand they retrenched every charge that was not calculated to that end, however warranted by former precedents. their majesties having expressed their royal inclinations to see the procession of the lord mayor to guildhall, the committee obtained mr. barclay's house in cheapside for that purpose, where proper refreshments were provided, and every care taken to accommodate their majesties with a full view of the whole cavalcade. "the great hall and adjoining apartments were decorated and furnished with as much taste and magnificence as the shortness of the time for preparation and the nature of a temporary service would permit: the hustings where their majesties dined, and the new council chamber, to which they retired both before and after dinner, being spread with turkey carpets, and the rest of the floors over which their majesties were to pass with blue cloth, and the whole illuminated with near three thousand wax tapers in chandeliers, lustres, girandoles, and sconces. "a select band of music, consisting of fifty of the best hands, placed in a superb gallery, erected on purpose at the lower end of the hall, entertained their majesties with a concert during the time of dinner, under the direction of a gentleman justly celebrated for his great musical talents; whilst four other galleries (all covered with crimson, and ornamented with festoons) exhibited to their majesties a most brilliant appearance of five hundred of the principal citizens of both sexes. "their majesties table was served with a new set of rich plate, purchased on this occasion, and covered with all the delicacies which the season could furnish, or expence procure, and prepared by the best hands. "a proportionable care was taken of the several other tables provided for the foreign ambassadors and ministers; the lords and gentlemen of his majesty's most honourable privy-council; the lord chancellor and judges; the lords and ladies in waiting; the lord mayor, aldermen, sheriffs, and common council; and many others, both of the nobility and gentry: the whole number of guests within the hall, including the galleries, being upwards of twelve hundred; and that of the gentlemen pensioners, yeomen of the guard, horse and horse-grenadier guards, and servants attendant upon their majesties, and the royal family, and who were entertained at places provided in the neighbourhood, amounting to seven hundred and twenty-nine. "and that this court may form some judgment of the manner of the entertainment, your committee have hereunto subjoined the bill of fare of their majesty's table, and the totals of the several bills on this occasion, amounting to _l._ _s._ _d._; which, your committee have the satisfaction to acquaint this honourable court, have been all ordered for payment. "your committee, likewise, having provided a great variety of the choicest wines, took care that every guest should be supplied with plenty and dispatch; and yet the various services performed without hurry or confusion. "for this purpose your committee issued no more tickets for admission than what (considering the necessary number of attendants, amounting to two hundred and forty persons) would fill the hall without incommoding the royal personages for whom the feast was intended. "and to prevent as much as possible the intrusion of strangers (too frequent on such occasions) your committee directed a temporary porch to be erected in the front of the hall, where gentlemen of trust were placed at three several bars. "upon the whole, your committee omitted no care or pains to render the entertainment as commodious and agreeable as possible to the royal guests, and in some measure expressive of the zeal and veneration of this honourable court for their august sovereign, his most amiable consort, and illustrious family, and of their sense of his gracious condescension in honouring this city with his royal presence: happy if they have in any degree answered expectation, and are allowed to have done justice to the honourable trust reposed in them. signed this th day of june, . "_s. fludyer_, _robert alsop_, _richard glyn_, _francis gosling_, _thomas long_, _robert wilsonn_, _francis ellis_, _henry kent_, _james walton_, _charles meredith_, _john rivington_, _thomas cogan_, _edward waldo_, _w. reeves_, _samuel freeman_, _william tyser_, _john paterson_." the king's table. first service*. £. _s._ _d._ dishes of olio, turtle, pottages, and soups ditto fish; _viz._ john dories, red mullet, &c. ditto roast venison westphalia hams consume, and richly ornamented dishes pullets à la royale ditto tongues espagniole ditto chickens à la reine ditto tondron de vaux à la danzie harrico dish popiets of veale glasse dishes fillets of lamba la conte ditto comports of squabs ditto fillets of beef marinate ditto of mutton à la memorance ditto fine vegetables * the orthography of the french words in the following items is wrong in almost every instance; but it must be remembered that it is _culinary_ orthography! second service. dishes fine ortolans ditto quails ditto notts ditto wheat-ears goodevau patte perrigoa pye dish pea-chicks dishes woodcocks ditto pheasants ditto teal ditto snipes ditto partridges ditto patties royal third service. ragout royal dishes fine green morells ditto fine green peas ditto asparagus heads ditto fine fat livers ditto fine combs ditto green truffles ditto artichoaks à la provincale ditto mushroons au blanc dish cardons à la bejamel ditto knots of eggs ditto ducks tongues dishes of peths dish of truffles in oil dishes of pallets ditto ragout mille fourth service. curious ornamented cakes dishes blomanges, representing different figures ditto clear marbrays ditto fine cut pastry ditto mille fuelles _the centre of the table._ grand pyramid of demies of shell fish of various sorts cold things of sorts; _viz._ temples, shapes, landscapes in jellies, savoury cakes, and almond gothes grand epergnes, filled with fine pickles, and garnished round with plates of sorts, as laspicks, rolards, &c. ----------------- total of the king's table totals of the several bills. mr. george dance, clerk of the works mr. richard gripton, coffee-man ditto, coffee, tea, &c. for the committee mr. john read, carpenter mr. kuhff, confectioner mr. wilder, ditto mr. scott, ditto messrs. kuhff, wilder, and scott, ditto mr. baughan, wax chandler mr. garrard, ditto mrs. jones, ditto mr. cotterel, chinaman mr. vere, ditto mr wylde, paul's-head tavern mr. edward wix, bricklayer mr. charles easton, mason messrs. alexander and shrimpton, smiths mr. peter roberts, remembrancer messrs. wareham, oswald, angel, horton and birch, cooks mr. stanley, band of musick mr. thomas pattle, hall-keeper messrs. chesson, saunders, and woodroffe, upholsterers mr. allan, wine mr. francis magnus, ditto mr. frederick standert, hock messrs. brown and righton, wine mr. thomas burfoot and son, woollen-drapers messrs. pistor and son, ditto mr. thomas gilpin, plate mr. deputy samuel ellis and richard cleeve, pewterers mr. christopher dent, butler mr. robert dixon, baker mrs. rachel stephens, brewer messrs. barber and shuttleworth, fruiterers messrs. mason and whitworth, ribbands mr. charles gardner, engraver artillery company mr. charles rivington, printer city musick mr. bromwich, papier maché mr. james dobson, bear inn, basinghall-street mr. john handford, swan with two necks, lad-lane mr. john greenhow, castle, in wood-street mr. richard overhall, blossom's-inn, in lawrence-lane mr. thomas whaley, bell-inn, in wood street mr. richard walkden, stationer city marshal mrs. mary harrington, glazier messrs. willis and machel, plumber messrs. pope and son, painters heron powney, esq. sword-bearer's claim mr. william palmer, senior attorney of the mayor's court, claim serjeants of the chamber, for delivery of the tickets, &c. yeomen of the chamber's claim peter denny, for lighting the chandeliers sir james hodges, town-clerk, for attending the committee william rix, clerk to sir james hodges, for ditto andrew boson, hall-keeper's man six marshal's-men six necessary women town-clerk's servants chamberlain's household servants messrs. chesson, woodroffe, and saunders, extra bill mr. thomas gilpin, for the use of plate mr. chamberlain's clerks daniel philpot, esq. cook to his majesty thomas denny, for attending the committee ------------------ total ------------------ it was ordered that the said report be entered in the journal of the court; and the following motion being made, was unanimously agreed to: "that the thanks of this court be, and are hereby given, to the committee appointed to conduct the entertainment of their majesties and the royal family at guildhall, on lord mayor's day last, for their constant and spirited attention, in that service, to the honour of the crown, and the dignity of this city." a futile plan has long been in use, intended to lessen the number of women of the town; and particularly in , when the society for the reformation of manners followed an old and unprofitable example, by sending some of their constables through the streets to apprehend those miserable young persons; were taken to bridewell, eleven were whipped, one sent to the magdalen, and the remainder are said to have been returned to their friends. such has been the practice at long intervals ever since, perhaps with some variations in the punishment inflicted, and i am afraid an omission of enquiring for their friends. one need only pass through the strand and fleet-street late in the evening, to perceive how ineffectual this method of reformation has been. it appears from a very solemn address to the publick inserted in the newspapers for , that the brutal custom of throwing at cocks on shrove tuesday was not then so uncommon as it happily is at present. when we are passing through the streets of london, it but too frequently happens that our ears are offended by hearing shocking oaths, repeated with an emphasis which indicates violent irritation; but, upon observing the parties thus offending against the laws of morality and of the realm more closely, it may be immediately perceived that nothing particular has occurred to produce anger, and that the vice has become so much a custom, that oaths are now mere flowers of rhetorick with the vulgar. however _unpleasant_ the reflection, we may console ourselves in the certainty that we are not more reprehensible than our predecessors have been; as a proof, i present the reader with an excellent charge delivered by sir john fielding, april , , at guildhall, westminster. "a charge delivered to the grand jury, at the general quarter session of the peace, held at guildhall, westminster, on wednesday, april , , by sir john fielding, knight, chairman of the said session. published at the unanimous request of the magistrates then present, and the grand jury." in order to remind the grand jury of their duty, rather than to inform them of it, sir john fielding considers, st, the object of the enquiry they are expected to make, and dly, the manner in which it might be made. the object of it is, offences towards god, the king, to one another, and to the publick in general. speaking of the offences against god, "i cannot sufficiently lament (says this devout magistrate) that shameful, inexcusable, and almost universal practice of prophane swearing in our streets: a crime so easy to be punished, and so seldom done, that mankind almost forget it is an offence; and, to our dishonour be it spoken, it is almost peculiar to the english nation! i beg, gentlemen, you would use your utmost endeavours to suppress this dreadful evil wherever you can; but this you will best do by your own example, as the offence is punishable in a judicial way before a magistrate. nor should i mention it here, was i not sensible that i am speaking in the presence of a great number of peace-officers, whose immediate duty it is to apprehend such miscreants, and carry them before a magistrate; and who are not only blameable, but punishable, for the neglect of this duty. "the last offence i shall mention on this subject is, the breach of the sabbath; a practice as shameful as it is common: but, as these are unworthy members of the church, and not only disgraceful, but noxious members of society, they will therefore, i doubt not, meet with the detestation of all honest and pious men, and consequently with every punishment due to such an insolent crime, which it may be in your power to inflict; for this sort of impious neglect partakes of the deepest ingratitude from the creature to the creator." with regard to offences committed against the publick in general; "of these (says this diligent magistrate) there are a great variety, but i shall confine myself to the three following, _viz._ public lewdness, bawdy-houses, gaming-houses. and first, as to public lewdness: "it is the observation of a moral writer of eminence, 'that there is some degree of virtue in a man's keeping his vices to himself:' for, as example is allowed to be more efficacious than precept in recommendation of virtue, where men act as it were in opposition to the depravity of human nature, how must the open and public example of lewdness draw men into the tide of wickedness, when their own passions and inclinations serve as winds to carry them down the stream! men like these deserve punishment as public as their crimes. but, as this offence belongs to none but the most abandoned mind, i thank god it is not common; and perhaps it would be much less seen, were those persons punished, who exposed to sale the most abandoned prints of lewdness, and the most infamous books of bawdry, which are considerably bought by curious youths, to the danger of their modesty, the hazard of their morals, and too often to the total destruction of their virtue. "as to bawdy-houses, they are the receptacles of those who still have some sense of shame left, but not enough to preserve their innocence. "these houses are all sufficiently injurious, and do great mischief. but those i would particularly point out to your attention, are the open, avowed, low, and common bawdy-houses, where vice is rendered cheap, and consequently within the reach of the common people, who are the very stamina of the constitution. "these are the channels through which rottenness is conveyed into the bones of the artificer, labourer, soldier, and mariner; by this means weakness and distemper are entailed on their offspring, whose utility to the publick depends on their health and strength. these are the houses that harbour and protect undutiful children, idle servants, and disobedient apprentices. let me then intreat you, as fathers, as masters, and as tradesmen, to put an end to these sinks of vice in your respective neighbourhoods. "let not that common vulgar error, of being afraid of these people, because they are litigious, desperate, and full of threats (for these fears are groundless, and should not, nay, i hope will not) deter you from this particular duty. you present; and we will punish. "as to gaming-houses; such numbers of persons of all ranks have brought themselves, some to the greatest distresses, and others to most shameful and ignominious ends, by frequenting these houses, where gentlemen, sharpers, highwaymen, tradesmen, their servants, nay, often their apprentices, are mixed together; that, when i mention the very name of a gaming-house, i am persuaded that it conveys to your minds such ideas of mischief to society, that you will not suffer any of them to escape that come to your knowledge: and by a particular attention to the last-mentioned offences, you may be the happy means of preventing frauds, thefts, and robberies; most of which take their rise from these impure fountains of extravagance." what the justice, speaking of the manner of the enquiry, remarks with regard to the contempt of oaths, is but too just, and alarming: "when i mention the word oath; where shall i find language to express the hearty concern i feel, when i consider with what shameful insensibility this great defence of our lives, this barrier of our liberties, this security of our properties, an oath, is treated by the lower rank of the community! i too much fear, that one of the principal causes of this contempt is the slovenly manner in which this solemn obligation is administered; which does not only take off the awe, but even the very idea, of the presence of almighty god." a facetious writer presented the following observations to the editor of the london chronicle, in june . i think the reader will find they promote the object of this work. "it is common with the old men to assert, that times alter for the worse, and that every age increases in ignorance and folly. at the theatres, they will tell you, that garrick and mrs. cibber are tolerable performers, but they will not allow them to be equal to booth and mrs. oldfield. 'when i was a boy, things were otherwise,' is their common expression. now, mr. printer, in despite of all this, i affirm, that instead of altering for the worse, we daily improve, not only in commerce, but also in manners and the polite arts. think not by the polite arts i mean only the exhibitions in spring-gardens and maiden-lane. no, sir, my inference is a general one; i include artists of every denomination, from the genteel mr. pencil, the portrait-painter, to honest brush, the sign-painter; both mr. heeltap, the shoemaker of st. james's, and plain crispin, the cobler of london-house-yard. and that we only began to improve of late years, is evident from the sarcastic sneer of a shop-keeper at epping, who, about ten years ago, had painted over his door, 'all sorts of manchester stuffs sold here; also cardinals, nails, and hats.' the force of the witticism is too plain to need an explanation. this, i imagine, gave rise to the number of dancing-masters, who have of late filled england; and that we are, since that time, greatly polished, no one, i dare say, will attempt to deny; but that it may not be thought that i assert what i am unable to prove, i will only remind your readers of the revolution that common things have undergone in their names. have we now any shops? are they not all turned into warehouses? have we not the english warehouse, the scotch warehouse, the irish warehouse, the shirt warehouse, the stocking warehouse, the shoe warehouse, the hat warehouse, nay, even the buckle and button warehouse? in like manner our drinking-houses are refined: they no longer go under the vulgar denominations of gin-houses, purl-houses, ale-houses, and porter-houses, but are all turned into coffee-houses without coffee, taverns without wine, and inns without a stable-yard. not content with this, they even left off the showy sign-post and exuberant sign, which formerly distinguished the best-accustomed houses: convinced of their own merit, they have come to a right understanding of the words _simplex munditiis_; and therefore only put up a black board with the name of their _quondam_ sign upon it. but i would just hint to them, that it would be something more grammatical, if, instead of '_this is_ the boar's-head,' they were to say, '_this was_ the boar's-head.' indeed i cannot help thinking, that a very great improvement might be made by one of these alehouse innkeepers on the essex road, who has a board with a large punch-bowl painted on it, and under it these words: 'the boar's-head inn.' surely he would have more custom, if (like the man at bath, who changed his sign of the royal oak into that of the owl in the ivy-bush, and wrote under it, 'this is not the royal oak') he would say under his punch-bowl, 'this is not the punch-bowl inn.'" the impropriety and folly of employing young and vigorous men to serve female customers with articles of dress, and those silly catch-pennies idly supposed ornaments to the person now so prevalent, is by no means a new trait in our customs; that it should be continued, though severely reprehended even so long since as , is astonishing. at that time the antient sisterhood of _tire-women_ were almost extinct; but now what head can be dressed fit to be seen without the assistance of a smart male hair-dresser? or what lady will purchase her bandeaus, her ribbands, gloves, &c. &c. from the hands of a young woman, when the same shop contains--a young _man_? unfortunately this is a fatal custom to many fine blooming females, who, thus consigned to idleness and temptations, often fall victims to seduction. a strange infatuation prevailed for many years in that class of the community which might be termed demi-fashionables, of sending their daughters to convents in france for education; if that could be so termed, which amounted to nothing more than speaking the french language tolerably correct, cutting and pasting coloured paper together in silly shapes, and learning tambour, or working in imitation of lace. to mention the disadvantages attending the practice would be futile; the revolution in france, the dissolution of monasteries, and our endless wars, have totally abolished the custom, at least as far as relates to convents; though i have no doubt that, should peace ever again smile on us, french boarding-schools will be preferred to british. many of the pernicious customs which disgrace the populace of london may, and indeed must be continued, by their attendance at the various fairs still held near the metropolis; some that are now suppressed, and that of st. bartholomew's london, will be noticed hereafter. as long as the legislature think proper to permit the exhibition of wild beasts, and the anticks of human brutes, the wicked and the curious will attend them: thus the profligate receives legal authority to continue his baneful and licentious manners, and the curious innocent learns to imitate them without restraint as something very worthy of imitation. it is well known that the passions of human nature require the utmost coercion, even in families of undoubted honour and virtue: is it then prudent, much less wise, to send apprentices, youth from schools, girls the offspring of the lower classes, and servants, into these regular scenes of riot and systematic violations of order and decency, where customs must be acquired which will not bear repetition? the very tradition of the origin of _horn_ fair, held at charlton and blackheath, though ridiculously unfounded, was a sufficient cause for its abolition, when we recollect the absurd reference it had to a shocking offence against the laws of society. the frequenters of this fair went to it prepared to laugh at those injured by seduction; and the exhibition of articles made of horn invited constant inuendos and vulgar _double entendre_. accident this very day afforded me other arguments against fairs. entering the kingsland-road, i was astonished at the scene before me: the foot-paths and the carriage-way were crowded with pedestrians and vehicles, from the humble dung-cart to the hackney-coach; the two latter filled with every description of persons, and the whole rushing, impelled by one governing mind, to edmonton fair. hundreds of carts and waggons, provided with seats placed on the sides, and others lengthways in the midst, were stationed by the owners in the neighbourhood of shoreditch church, where several principal streets communicate with the road to edmonton; and were immediately filled by the infant, its sisters, brothers, parents, the journeyman, the apprentice, and the master, and the female servant, all dressed in their best clothing; many of the latter and the daughters of tradesmen in white muslin, silk spencers, and new straw bonnets, worth at least _s._ each. i would ask what the conversation of five-and-twenty persons thus assembled in a cart or waggon, some of whom consisted of the very dregs of society, could well be at noon-day, when sober; but what _at night_ on their return, when some at least were intoxicated? we will say nothing of the _fun_ of the fair. the succeeding letters which were published in require no comment. "to the inhabitants of the three united parishes of st. mary-le-bow, st. pancras, and allhallows honey-lane. "gentlemen, "it is a pain and grief to me, after having been your minister four-and-twenty years, to have any occasion to make any complaint of your behaviour; but complain of you i must, for suffering the subscription for the daily prayers to be so diminished, and reduced almost to nothing; a manifest sign that your parishes are much poorer or less religious than they were, for either of which i should be very sorry, but more especially for the latter; for the former may be your misfortune, the latter must be your fault. "the former inhabitants were so convinced of the reasonableness, the propriety, the expediency, and necessity of the daily prayers, that they thought it just and fitting to make an extraordinary allowance for this extraordinary duty, and entered into a voluntary annual subscription for this purpose, which contributions have in some measure been continued from the first building and opening of your church till within these few years. and will you, gentlemen, suffer so good a work, which hath been carried on so many years, to perish in your hands? have you so little concern for the honour of your church, one of the first and most conspicuous in the city, the principal of the archbishop of canterbury's peculiars, the chief court of arches, where so many bishops are confirmed, and so much public business is transacted? and shall such a church, that ought to be a pattern of regular devotion to others, be the first to set an example of irreligion? i hope you have too much sense of honour, too much sense of religion, to bring such a load of reproach and infamy upon your names and characters: for it would be an eternal reproach and infamy to you in this world and in the world to come; and the piety of your predecessors would 'rise up in the judgment against you, and condemn you.' "you will say, perhaps, that you have not time to attend the daily prayers. but why have you not time? what are you doing better? ask god and your own conscience. scarce more than half an hour is taken up in the daily prayers: and depend upon it, you will find the time not lost, or ill employed; you will proceed to business with the greater cheerfulness, and prosper the better for it. but if you cannot or will not attend the prayers yourselves, yet why should you hinder others who would attend? why not rather, to make some amends for your own deficiency, contribute something, that others may have opportunities for praying for a blessing upon the community? for what will avail all your care and attention, all your labour and pains, without the blessing of god to prosper them? and how can you ever expect the blessing of god upon your undertakings, if you neglect and despise, and in effect destroy and abolish his service? the neglect of public worship is soon followed by the neglect of other duties, and it behoves you seriously to consider, whether this may not be the first source and origin, the principal cause and occasion, of so many failures and bankruptcies among you. "you will urge perhaps that other charges and taxes lie heavy upon you, the price of every thing is advanced, and you cannot afford to do as you have done. but of all charges and expences why must this of the daily prayers be the first to be retrenched? retrench every vanity and folly, retrench every idle pleasure and diversion, retrench all your superfluous, all your unnecessary expences, rather than what you contribute to the public service of god. but no great matter is required or expected from you. as but a very short portion of your time is taken up in the daily prayers, so a very small part of your substance will be sufficient to support so pious and useful an institution. all that i desire of you is, that of the better sort, every one would subscribe ten shillings a-year, that is half a crown a quarter, and of those in lower circumstances every one would subscribe five or four shillings a year, that is, at least a shilling a quarter. some few (to their honour be it spoken) have all along continued to do the very thing that i desire; but i wish the thing to be general, and every one of you to do the same. you cannot surely think so small and inconsiderable a sum any loss or burden to you. you may easily make it otherwise, by riding out a sunday or two less in a year, or by going an evening or two less in a year to vauxhall or ranelagh, to the tavern or the play. this you will do, if you are not 'lovers of pleasure more than lovers of god;' and what you thus 'lend unto the lord,' will be _paid_ you in blessings _again_. "but i would rather prefer another proposal to your consideration, which probably may be more easy and agreeable to you, as it would be taking nothing immediately out of your own pockets, and certainly would be more easy and agreeable to your ministers, as it would be less precarious and uncertain, though perhaps not altogether so beneficial. whatever may be the case of some few individuals, your parishes are in general very wealthy. your poor's-rate is low in comparison to that of many other parishes, where it is nearly equal to that of the land-tax. you are in possession of several considerable estates left you by the piety and charity of former inhabitants, amounting to _l._ a year or more: and these estates being left without any appropriation but to the best uses of your parishes, how can any part of them be applied to a better use, or more agreeably to the intention of the pious and charitable donors, than for the public benefit of men in the public service of god? let me therefore recommend it to you, out of these estates, or in any other method that you may think more proper, to allow to your rector, that is, not to your rector properly, but to your rector for his curate and reader of the daily prayers, a salary of _five-and-twenty pounds_ a year, which is no more than three shillings and three-half-pence in a year from every house: and surely you cannot refuse so small a boon for the honour and credit of your parishes, for your own character and reputation, for the good of your own souls and the souls of others. you see i am very moderate and reasonable in my demands, and i hope you will be as reasonable in your compliance. this is not making _godliness a gain_. only _the labourer is worthy of his hire_: and you would not pay to a clergyman for double service in a day, less than you would pay to a porter. "though i have now been your rector, as i said, these four-and-twenty years, yet i have never in all that time asked any thing of you. i have not sent any person to collect your easter offerings, as other city rectors do, and i might also justly have done. i have received nothing from you but what is strictly my due, and what you are obliged by law to pay: and i shall think i have very little weight and interest with you, i shall think that either i have preached the word of god, or you have heard it, to very little purpose, if after all my services i cannot obtain this favour from you; not that it is any favour to me, but as it is a real benefit to yourselves, and may prove the happy means of your salvation. your not complying with this request would be such a disparagement and discouragement to my ministry, that i should almost despair of ever doing any further good among you, and could only leave you to your own reflections upon that solemn commination of christ unto the angel of the church of ephesus, rev. ii. : 'remember from whence thou art fallen, and repent, and do thy first works; or else i will come unto thee quickly, and remove thy candlestick out of its place, except thou repent.' god forbid that this should ever be your case! on the contrary i wish to say with the apostle, heb. vi. , , : 'beloved, we are persuaded better things of you, and things that accompany salvation, though we thus speak. for god is not unrighteous, to forget your work and labour of love, which ye have shewed towards his name, in that ye have ministered unto the saints, and do minister. and we desire that every one of you do shew the same diligence, to the full assurance of hope unto the end:' and with this trust and confidence in you, i remain, gentlemen, "your loving friend, and faithful servant in christ jesus, "thomas bristol." _march , ._ "to the right reverend father in god thomas lord bishop of bristol, rector of the three united parishes of st. mary-le-bow, st. pancras, and allhallows, honey-lane. "my lord, "the first sentence in your address to our united parishes gave us inexpressible concern, as we found ourselves charged with some behaviour which had been the occasion _of great pain and grief to your lordship_; but we were happily relieved from this distress, as soon as your lordship condescended to mention the nature of the crime with which we are charged; _viz._ 'that we had suffered the subscription for the daily prayers to be diminished, and reduced almost to nothing.' "when we reflect for twenty-four years past you have laboured amongst us in the lord, we can have no doubt but this endearing connection which has so long subsisted between us will occasion your lordship to receive with _paternal candour_ every plea we have to offer in our defence. "permit us then to remind your lordship, that, though the attendance on the morning prayers has been generally omitted, and the subscription to them reduced, yet we have hitherto endeavoured to promote the honour and reputation of st. mary-le-bow, all that we could. we acknowledge with your lordship, 'that it is one of the first and most conspicuous churches in the city,' and we often view its lofty spire both with pride and pleasure; we are happy in 'its being the principal of the archbishop of canterbury's _peculiars_, the chief court of arches, where so many bishops are confirmed, and so much public business is transacted;' and we have always endeavoured, at a great expence, to keep every part of the church in such good order, as that it might both decently and conveniently accommodate the good company which frequently resort there on the above solemn occasions.--surely, my lord, this part of our conduct must convince the world, and your lordship, that those motives which you have suggested to us _have already produced_ every effect which ought to be expected from them. "but to enter more particularly into our defence.--our not attending these _subscription prayers_ is not generally owing either _to the want of time_, or to _the desire of saving the expence_, but proceeds from a very different motive--a motive which we cannot urge, till we have again bespoke your lordship's affectionate candour. it is this: that we are not convinced of 'the reasonableness, the propriety, the expediency, and necessity of having the daily prayers' at those hours, and under those circumstances, for which your lordship so warmly recommends a subscription; and there are two reasons on which our doubts are founded. "the first is, that as your lordship has undertaken the care of our souls, and in consequence of this trust, receives at least three hundred pounds _per annum_, we think ourselves fully authorised to believe, that this _extraordinary duty_, as your lordship properly calls it, cannot be essentially necessary to our salvation; for, if it was so, it would, and must have been, a part of your _lordship's own duty_, and consequently have rendered any extraordinary allowance unnecessary: and we think ourselves assured, that the other high offices which your lordship sustains in the christian church could by no means divert you from duly executing the prior engagements made with us,--even though you had been obliged to employ a deputy to share with you the honour of attempting our salvation. "nor, secondly, is it possible that these services referred to should be omitted, if they were really so absolutely necessary to prevent 'the eternal reproach and infamy in this world, and the next,' of _us_ who are committed to your care. your lordship, receiving _l. per annum_ for watching over this flock, could never permit it to be involved in _eternal infamy_, when so small a boon (as your lordship acknowledges) as _l. per annum_ would prevent it. far from us be such imaginary fears as these! the great _apostles_, to whom your lordship succeeds in an uninterrupted line, were inspired with such divine zeal to promote the salvation of men, that so far from their hesitating to part with twenty-five pounds out of three hundred pounds _per annum_, which is but _l._ _s._ _d. per cent._ deduction, they calmly received 'bonds and afflictions, neither counted they their lives dear unto themselves, so that they might finish their course with joy, and the ministry which they had received.' (acts xx. , &c.) 'they gloried in having coveted no man's silver or gold' (neither for themselves nor their curates); and were enabled to make this honourable appeal to their flock,--'ye yourselves know, that these hands have ministered unto our necessities, and to those who were with us.' "for our part, therefore, we shall rest assured, that as 'the line of the apostolic succession is uninterrupted,' so also is the 'apostolic zeal;' and that, 'as the labourer is worthy of his hire,' so also is 'the hire worthy of a labourer;' and therefore we hope your lordship will permit us to conclude, that when a wise, a learned, and pious minister of christ receives _the hire_, he will conscientiously perform _the labour_, or cause it to be performed. "our dependance, therefore, on your lordship's exact and devout views of this _awful_ and _responsible connection_ must necessarily calm every fear on our part concerning our _own_ 'eternal infamy and reproach on this account;' for we are legally committed to your care, for the established outward _means of grace_;--and such means as are absolutely necessary for rendering your lordship a good shepherd, or us a well-fed flock, we are very confident we shall never want, whilst we have the pleasure of being under your spiritual guidance and instruction. "we are, my lord, your lordship's "most respectful, affectionate, "and obliged humble servants, a b c d e f g." _st. mary-le-bow, april , ._ when the king of denmark visited our court in , he observed the eagerness of the middle and lower ranks in their attempts to view his person; and politely ordered that they should be admitted while he dined. the consequent press and rudeness was such, that the permission was rescinded after _one_ trial: that rudeness may be estimated by the following paragraph: "a correspondent observes, in the london chronicle, that the crowds which follow after and so rudely press upon the king of denmark, render his situation very disagreeable, as he is constantly obstructed in the gratification of his curiosity at any public place of diversion, or of seeing any thing curious in or near the metropolis, for fear of being stifled. he adds, that he wishes the people would consider the great rudeness they are guilty of, by thus treating so very high and respectable a personage: and let all who have once had a view of him in any public place pass on, and not stand staring in the king's face with such intolerable effrontery as too many have done, to the annoyance of his majesty, as well as the hindrance of others from the pleasure of seeing him." the hospitality with which this prince was received by the superior ranks and all the public bodies, particularly the corporation of london, deserves the highest commendation. the practice of betting is tolerably prevalent at present, and by no means confined to any particular class of the community. in short, i am afraid it might be traced very far back in the history of our customs; but it will be sufficient for the information of the reader, that i present him with an article from the london chronicle for , which i think will remind him of some recent transactions in the city. "the introduction and amazing progress of illicit gaming at lloyd's coffee-house is, among others, a powerful and very melancholy proof of the degeneracy of the times. it is astonishing that this practice was begun, and has been hitherto carried on, by the matchless effrontery and impudence of one man. it is equally so, that he has met with so much encouragement from many of the principal under-writers, who are, in every other respect, useful members of society: and it is owing to the lenity of our laws, and want of spirit in the present administration, that this pernicious practice has not hitherto been suppressed. though gaming in any degree (except what is warranted by law) is perverting the original and useful design of that coffee-house, it may in some measure be excusable to speculate on the following subjects: "mr. wilkes being elected member for london, which was done from to guineas _per cent._ "ditto for middlesex, from to guineas _per cent._ "alderman b----d's life for one year, now doing at _per cent._ "on sir j---- h---- being turned out in one year, now doing at guineas _per cent._ "on john wilkes's life for one year, now doing at _per cent._--n. b. warranted to remain in prison during that period. "on a declaration of war with france or spain in one year, guineas _per cent._ "and many other innocent things of that kind. "but when policies come to be opened on two of the first peers in britain losing their heads within a year, at _s._ _d. per cent._ and on the dissolution of the present parliament within one year, at guineas _per cent._ which are now actually doing, and underwrote, chiefly by scotsmen, at the above coffee-house; it is surely high time for administration to interfere, and by exerting the rigour of the laws against the authors and encouragers of such insurances (which must be done for some bad purpose) effectually put a stop to it." there are certain wags who find great amusement in contriving wonderful stories for the publick, which are sometimes circulated verbally, and frequently inserted in the newspapers.--this waggery has recently received the elegant term of _hoaxing_. twice very lately crowds have been sent to the ship-yards below london to witness the launching of men of war and indiamen which were not ready to launch; and last winter _re-produced_ an old story of a gardener digging a pit to receive the body of a servant he had seduced, _whom he intended to have murdered_, had not his master luckily discovered the plan by the intervention of a dream. many of these inventions are so slightly contrived that persons of very little sagacity might detect the impostor; and yet numbers are deceived. the newspapers of furnish a rare instance of this description, which take _verbatim_: "at the house of one mrs. goulding, a single gentlewoman, at stockwell, in the parish of lambeth, in surrey, about eleven o'clock in the forenoon on monday last, there being no person except herself and servant (ann robinson, aged fifteen years or thereabouts) several earthen plates, and one dish, of what is called the queen's-ware, which were placed on a shelf in one of the kitchens, fell down, and all broke except the dish, without any visible cause; in a little time after, several candlesticks, and other things, the furniture of a mantle-piece in the back kitchen, were thrown into the middle of the floor, though no person was in that room; then some china, &c. on the mantle-piece in the other kitchen was in like manner thrown into the middle of the floor, and broke, and as the pieces lay, they snapped and flew just as though they had been thrown on an exceeding hot fire; a glazed lanthorn, which hung on the staircase, was thrown down; a clock also was thrown down and broke; a red earthen pan, containing salt beef, flew in pieces, and the beef fell about; and many such like uncommon things happened; which causing an alarm, the people from the road, without distinction, ran into the house, some supposing it to be on fire, others thought the house had received a shock from the explosion of a powder-mill at hounslow, which was blown up about an hour before. however, all concurred in moving the goods; and mrs. goulding, together with her maid-servant, went to mr. gresham's, a gentleman who lives in the next house to mrs. goulding's, whither the goods were carried, and particularly a tray full of china, an iron bread-basket japanned, two mahogany waiters, several bottles of different sorts of liquors, a gallipot of jelly, and a pier-glass worth about five pounds, which glass was taken down by one mr. saville (a neighbour to mrs. goulding) who handed it to one robert hames, and a part of the gilt-work on each side of the frame flew off before he could put it down in the garden; but when it was laid down, remained without farther damage till it was taken into mr. gresham's, and put under a side-board, where it flew to pieces. mr. saville and others going to drink of a bottle of rum and a bottle of wine, they both flew in pieces, though they were uncorked; the china in the tray flew in pieces, some while it was in the house, and the rest in the garden, whither it was removed by the affrighted spectators after it began to break; the bread-basket was thrown down and broke, as also were the two mahogany waiters, and the pot of jelly, together with bottles of liquors and jars of pickles, all of them the property of mrs. goulding. mrs goulding, being ill with the fright, was let blood by mr. gardener, a surgeon of clapham, who borrowed a pint china bowl of mr. gresham's people to receive the blood, which being afterwards set upon a side-board, near a bottle of rum, the property of mrs. goulding, both bottle and bowl jumped on the floor and broke, the bowl going into five pieces (a piece of which is now in the possession of mr. waterfield at the royal oak inn, vauxhall). mrs. goulding and her servant then went to mr. maylin's next door to mr. gresham's; but during their stay there (which was but very short) nothing extraordinary happened; from thence they went to the house of farmer payne (to whose wife mrs. goulding is related) on rush-common, near the wash-way, about half a mile distant from her own house, where they found mr. and miss gresham, mr. payne and his family; it being about dinner-time, they all dined with mr. payne; some time after dinner mrs. goulding's servant was sent home to examine into the state of the house, and returned with an account that every thing there had been quiet from the time they left it. in a little time after the return of the servant, mr. and miss gresham went home (nothing unaccountable having yet happened at mr. payne's); but mrs. goulding and her servant staid, and about seven o'clock in the evening the same kind of uncommon operations as had been seen at mrs. goulding's began at mr. payne's, by seven pewter dishes out of eight falling from the top shelf over a dresser in the kitchen, without any apparent cause, which was followed by an infinite number of examples not less strange, and particularly the following: a pestle and mortar jumped from the mantle-piece in the kitchen to the floor, about six feet; a row of pewter plates fell from the second shelf (over the dresser) to the ground, and being taken up, and put one in the other on the dresser, which is about three feet high, they were thrown down again, and lay in the same manner as plates are generally placed on a shelf; the pewter, china, earthen-ware, &c. were then almost all set upon the floors in the kitchen and parlour (to prevent being broke or bruised by falling), but four pewter plates were left on one of the shelves over the dresser, which plates did not move the whole night. while the things were putting on the ground, a stone tea-cup jumped out of a beaufet to the floor; on the floor a glass tumbler jumped about a foot and a half and broke; another that stood near it jumped also about the same distance, but remained whole for some hours after, then took another spring and broke also; a china bowl jumped from the floor in the middle of the parlour, and went behind the feet of a claw table, which was standing in the same parlour, at the distance of about eight feet, but did not break at that time, but being replaced by one mr. fowler, remained whole for a considerable time afterwards, and then flew to pieces; three china cups, which had been left on the dresser in the kitchen, flew slant-wise across the kitchen about twelve feet, by which two were broke: an egg flew from the lower shelf over the dresser, taking the same direction as the cups had done, and went nearly the same distance; there was another egg on the shelf, which did not move the whole night: a candlestick flew from the mantle-piece in the kitchen into the parlour door-way, about fifteen feet from the place where it stood; a tea-kettle under the dresser was thrown out about two feet: another tea-kettle, which stood on the side of the grate, was thrown off against an iron that is fixed to keep the children from the fire; a mustard-glass, which was a little broke by some natural accident, was thrown from a table into a pewter-dish on the floor, at about seven feet distance, but did not break, neither was it broke afterwards; the cup that had escaped when the other two were broke (as is before-mentioned) being set on a table in the parlour, flew off to the distance of nine feet, and broke; a tumbler, with a little rum and water in it, standing on a waiter upon a table in the same parlour, jumped about ten feet, and broke; the table then overset, and threw off a silver tankard of mrs. goulding's, a candlestick, and the waiter the tumbler had jumped from; two hams, which had been hung up in the chimney to dry, fell down, though the nail and strings on and by which they had hung were not broke or misplaced; a case-bottle of liquor, part of which they had just drank, flew into pieces; and, in short, about four o'clock in the morning of tuesday, almost every thing in the parlour and kitchen were animated, and made such a racket, that mr. payne's maid-servant ran up stairs, and took a child out of bed, and carried it into the stable naked, thinking it was not safe longer to stay in the house. mrs. goulding then seeing the general confusion, went with her servant across the road to mr. fowler's (the same mr. fowler as is before-mentioned in this narrative) and were accompanied by mrs. payne and her son, about nine years of age; and the confusion at mr. payne's immediately ceased, when mr. fowler had let them into his house, he proceeded to light a fire in his back room, which done, he put the candlestick and candle he had used upon a table in his fore-room (through which mrs. goulding and her servant had passed), where also stood another candlestick with a tin lamp in it, but they did not stand long before they were knocked against each other, and thrown to the ground by some invisible agent; then a lanthorn in the back-room, that had been used in lighting mrs. goulding, &c. across the road, was thrown to the ground; and lastly a basket of coals, which was brought from mr. payne's, overset, and emptied itself upon the floor. mr. fowler upon this told mrs. goulding he feared she had been guilty of some bad act, as it was plain the cause of such wonderful events was carried with her; but mrs. goulding answered, that her conscience was clear from any extraordinary evil, and that she could not tell the cause why she was so troubled, or such like words; however, mr. fowler desired her to quit his house, as he could not afford to have his goods destroyed; whereupon mrs. goulding and her servant left his house, which has been quiet ever since, and returned to her own house; and, in a little time after their arrival, a cask with some beer in it was thrown from its stand, and a pail of water was moved from its place a little, and some of the water spilled, but nothing more happened; then she discharged her servant, and has remained quiet ever since." another account has the following additional circumstance: "some plates of mr. gresham's, by way of trial, were placed upon the same shelf with those of mrs. goulding's; the former stood unhurt, the whole of mrs. goulding's were broke in pieces. "the servant girl is gone home to her father, the clerk of lewisham parish; and what remains are now just as inanimate as the furniture of other houses." the following extracts from nugent's translation of m. grosley's tour to london are inserted as the means by which the reader may collect facts in proof of my opinion, that the manners of the populace are greatly improved since the above period. "amongst the people of london we should properly distinguish the porters, sailors, chairmen, and the day-labourers who work in the streets, not only from persons of condition, most of whom walk a-foot merely because it is their fancy, but even from the lowest class of shopkeepers. "the former are as insolent a rabble as can be met with in countries without law or police. the french, at whom their rudeness is chiefly levelled, would be in the wrong to complain, since even the better sort of londoners are not exempt from it. inquire of them your way to a street: if it be upon the right, they direct you to the left, or they send you from one of their vulgar comrades to another. the most shocking abuse and ill language make a part of their pleasantry upon these occasions. to be assailed in such a manner, it is not absolutely necessary to be engaged in conversation with them; it is sufficient to pass by them. my french air, notwithstanding the simplicity of my dress, drew upon me, at the corner of every street, a volley of abusive litanies, in the midst of which i slipped on, returning thanks to god i did not understand english. the constant burthen of these litanies was, french dog, french b--: to make any answer to them, was accepting a challenge to fight; and my curiosity did not carry me so far. i saw in the streets a scuffle of this kind, between a porter and a frenchman, who spit in his face, not being able to make any other answer to the torrent of abuse which the former poured out against the latter without any provocation. the late marshal saxe, walking through london streets, happened to have a dispute with a scavenger, which ended in a boxing bout, wherein his dexterity received the general applause of the spectators: he let the scavenger come upon him, then seized him by the neck, and made him fly up into the air, in such a direction, that he fell into the middle of his cart, which was brimful of dirt. "happening to pass one day through chelsea, in company with an english gentleman, a number of watermen drew themselves up in a line, and attacked him, on my account, with all the opprobrious terms which the english language can supply, succeeding each other, like students who defend a thesis: at the third attack, my friend, stepping short, cried out to them, that they said the finest things in the world, but unluckily he was deaf: and that, as for me, i did not understand a word of english, and that their wit was of consequence thrown away upon me. this remonstrance appeased them; and they returned laughing to their business. "m. de la condamine, in his journey to london two or three years ago, was followed, wherever he went, by a numerous crowd, who were drawn together by a great tube of block-tin, which he had always to his ear; by an unfolded map of london which he held in his hand; and by frequent pauses, whenever he met with any object worthy of his attention. at his first going abroad, being frequently hemmed in by the crowd, which prevented his advancing forward, he cried out to his interpreter, 'what would all these people have?' upon this, the interpreter, applying his mouth to the tube, answered by crying out to him, 'they are making game of you.' at last they became used to the sight; and ceased to crowd about him as he walked the streets. "the day after my arrival, my servant discovered, by sad experience, what liberties the mob are accustomed to take with the french, and all who have the appearance of being such. he had followed the crowd to tyburn, where three rogues were hanged, two of whom were father and son. the execution being over, as he was returning home through oxford-road with the remains of the numerous multitude which had been present at the execution, he was attacked by two or three blackguards; and, the crowd having soon surrounded him, he made a sight for the rabble. jack ketch, the executioner, joined in the sport, and entering the circle, struck the poor sufferer upon the shoulder. they began to drag him about by the skirts of his coat, and by his shoulder-knot; when luckily for him, he was perceived by three grenadiers belonging to the french guards, who, having deserted, and crossed the seas, were then drinking at an ale-house hard by the scene of action. armed with such weapons as chance presented them, they suddenly attacked the mob, laid on soundly upon such as came within their reach, and brought their countryman off safe to the ale-house, and from thence to my lodgings. seven or eight campaigns which he had served with an officer in the gens-d'armes, and a year which he afterwards passed in italy, had not sufficiently inured him to bear this rough treatment; it had a most surprising effect upon him. he shut himself up in the house a fortnight, where he vented his indignation in continual imprecations against england and the english. strong and robust as he was, if he had had any knowledge of the language and the country, he might have come off nobly, by proposing a boxing bout to the man whom he thought weakest amongst the crowd of assailants: if victorious, he would have been honourably brought home, and had his triumph celebrated even by those who now joined against him. this is the first law of this species of combat; a law which the english punctually observe in the heat of battle, where the vanquished always find a generous conqueror in that nation. this should seem to prove, in contradiction to hobbes, that in the state of nature, a state with which the street-scufflers of london are closely connected, man, who is by fits wicked and cruel, is, at the bottom, good-natured and generous. "i have already observed, that the english themselves are not secure from the insolence of the london mob. i had a proof of this from the young surgeon who accompanied me from paris to boulogne. "at the first visit which he paid me in london, he informed me, that, a few days after his arrival, happening to take a walk through the fields on the surrey-side of the thames, dressed in a little green frock which he had brought from paris, he was attacked by three of those gentlemen of the mobility, who, taking him for a frenchman, not only abused him with the foulest language, but gave him two or three slaps on the face. 'luckily,' added he in french, 'i did not return their ill language; for, if i had, they would certainly have thrown me into the thames, as they assured me they would, as soon as they perceived i was an englishman, if i ever happened to come in their way again in my paris dress.' "a portuguese of my acquaintance, taking a walk in the same fields, with three of his countrymen, their conversation in portuguese was interrupted by two watermen, who, doubling their fists at them, cried, 'french dogs, speak your damned french, if you dare.' "happening to go one evening from the part of the town where i lived to the museum, i passed by the seven-dials. the place was crowded with people waiting to see a poor wretch stand in the pillory, whose punishment was deferred to another day. the mob, provoked at this disappointment, vented their rage upon all that passed that way, whether a-foot or in coaches; and threw at them dirt, rotten eggs, dead dogs, and all sorts of trash and ordure, which they had provided to pelt the unhappy wretch, according to custom. their fury fell chiefly upon the hackney-coaches, the drivers of which they forced to salute them with their whips and their hats, and to cry _huzza_; which word is a signal for rallying in all public frays. the disturbance upon this occasion was so much the greater, as the person who was to have acted the principal part in the scene, which by being postponed had put the rabble into such an ill-humour, belonged to the nation which that rabble thinks it has most right to insult. "in england, no rank or dignity is secure from their insults. the young queen herself was exposed to them upon her first arrival at london: the rabble was affronted at her majesty's keeping one window of her sedan chair drawn up. "the politeness, the civility, and the officiousness of people of good breeding, whom we meet in the streets, as well as the obliging readiness of the citizens and shopkeepers, even of the inferior sort, sufficiently indemnify and console us for the insolence of the mob, as i have often experienced. "whatever haste a gentleman may be in, whom you happen to meet in the streets, as soon as you speak to him, he stops to answer, and often steps out of his way to direct you, or to consign you to the care of some one who seems to be going the same way. a gentleman one day put me in this manner under the care of a handsome young directress, who was returning home with a fine young child in her arms. i travelled on very agreeably, though i had a great way to go, lending an arm to my guide; and we conversed together as well as two persons could do, one of whom scarce understood a word spoken by the other. i had frequent conversations of this sort in the streets, in which, notwithstanding all the pains i took to make myself understood, and others took to understand me, i could not succeed: i then would quit my guide, and say to him, with a laugh, and squeeze of the hand, _tower of babylon_! he would laugh on his side likewise; and so we used to part. "having occasion to inquire for a certain person in oxford-road, i shewed his address at the first shop i came to; when out stepped a young man, in white silk stockings, a waistcoat of fine cloth, and an apron about his waist. after having examined whether i was able to follow him, he made me a sign, and began to run on before me. during this race, which was from one end of the street to the other, i thought that my guide had interest in view; and therefore i got ready a shilling, which i offered him upon arriving at the proper place; but he refused it with generous disdain, and taking hold of my hand, which he shook violently, he thanked me for the pleasure i had procured him. i afterwards saw him at the tabernacle of the methodists. "to take a man in this manner by the arm, and shake it till his shoulder is almost dislocated, is one of the grand testimonies of friendship which the english give each other, when they happen to meet: this they do very coolly; there is no expression of friendship in their countenances, yet the whole soul enters the arm which gives the shake. this supplies the place of the embraces and salutes of the french. the english seem to regulate their behaviour upon these occasions by the rules prescribed by alexander severus to those who approached his person[ :a]. "i met with the same politeness and civil treatment at all the public and private assemblies to which i was admitted. at the house of lords as well as at the house of commons, a foreigner may take the liberty to address himself to any gentleman who understands his language; and those who are applied to upon these occasions think it their duty to answer his questions. at the first meeting of the house of lords to try lord byron, i happened to be seated amidst a family as much distinguished by their high rank as their amiable qualities. they all shewed the utmost eagerness to satisfy my curiosity with regard to the several particulars of this extraordinary spectacle; to explain to me all that was said; to instruct me with regard to the origin of the most remarkable ceremonies; and, in fine, to share with me the refreshments, which the length of the trial made it necessary for them to provide. "when the king came to the house of lords to give the royal assent to bills, one of the bishops near whom i was seated offered to be my interpreter; and he took upon him to serve me in that capacity during the whole time i staid. "at the courts of common pleas, king's bench, and exchequer, in westminster, i seated myself amongst the lawyers; and upon my speaking french to the two next me, neither of whom happened to understand that language, one of them rose, and brought a brother lawyer, who, being acquainted with the french tongue, explained to me the best he could all that passed. "at the play-houses and other public diversions, i had the same good fortune. those that did not understand me, were eager to look for somebody that did; and my interpreter, who had taken a bottle of wine with him, never drank without afterwards presenting me with it: i made it a rule to drink, because having declined the first time it was offered, i was given to understand, that such a refusal was contrary to the laws of english politeness. "it must, however, be observed, that this obliging behaviour is not accompanied with all those external demonstrations of civility, which are customary upon such occasions in france. if an english gentleman, who did not understand me, went in quest of an interpreter, he rose, and quitted me with an air, which seemed rather to be that of a whimsical humourist, than of a gentleman who was going to do a polite action; and i saw no more of him. "i met with the same civility and complaisance amongst all the shop-keepers, whether great or little. the tradesman sent his son or his daughter to me, who often served me as guide, after having first acted as an interpreter: for some years past, the french language has been taught as universally as the english, in all the boarding-schools of london; so that french will soon be by choice the language of the people of england, as it was by constraint and necessity under the norman kings. this is a demonstration, that the antipathy of that nation for every thing belonging to the french is not universal and without exception. "the french are apt to imagine, that it is on account of their country they are pushed and shoved in the most frequented streets, and often driven into the kennel; but they are mistaken. the english walk very fast: their thoughts being entirely engrossed by business, they are very punctual to their appointments, and those who happen to be in their way are sure to be sufferers by it: constantly darting forward, they jostle them with a force proportioned to their bulk and the velocity of their motion. i have seen foreigners, not used to this exercise, let themselves be tossed and whirled about a long time, in the midst of a crowd of passengers, who had nothing else in view but to get forward. having soon adopted the english custom, i made the best of my way through crowded streets, exerting my utmost efforts to shun persons who were equally careful to avoid me. "we should be equally in an error, if we were to imagine that the english fashions, diametrically opposite to those of france, are contrived in the manner they are, in order to avoid all resemblance to those of our nation: on the contrary, if the former are any way influenced by the latter, it is by the desire of imitating them. a mode begins to be out of date at paris, just when it has been introduced at london by some english nobleman. the court and the first-rate nobility immediately take it up: it is next introduced about st. james's by those that ape the manners of the court; and by the time it has reached the city, a contrary mode already prevails at paris, where the english, bringing with them the obsolete mode, appear like the people of another world. the little hats, for example, at present so fashionable in france, begin to be wore by the nobility, who borrowed the model from paris: by degrees the english will come at the diminutive size; but the great hats will then be resumed at paris. this holds good in general, with regard both to men and women's apparel." it has long been customary for the lower classes to hold a burlesque election at wandsworth after a dissolution of parliament for the choice of a mayor of garratt. to describe the strange proceedings of the candidates, who are always selected from the most ludicrous or most hideous of the community, or the riotous freaks of the mob, would be impossible. one vast wave of the populace rolls impetuous from london after the candidates and officers of the election; and, if there is but little taste in their dresses, there is always much "unreal mockery" of finery disposed in a manner which cannot but excite laughter, and the curiosity of those who are but little satisfied to witness the quarrels and intoxication that distinguish the electors of the borough of garratt. many whimsical and satirical imitations of speeches and promises are made upon these occasions; but the electors, contrary to the customs of other elections, always _treat themselves_, though _tin_ sixpences have sometimes been thrown amongst the mob _as bribes_. the present member for garratt is _sir_ henry dimsdale, citizen and muffin-seller, one of the oddest productions of injured nature, _and an idiot_. it is strange that the people who act these follies cannot perceive they are satirizing themselves. if they were not willing to be deceived, promises never meant to be performed would not be made; and, if they would neither receive bribes nor be treated, candidates would never offer the former, or furnish materials for the latter. when they chair a real member through westminster, after having violated the freedom of election by deeds which deserve hanging, these wanton fools pull the hustings over their own heads, and frequently maim peaceable spectators.--such are the electors of garratt and . . . . . . . . ! footnotes: [ :a] "this should be _cuper's_ gardens, formerly the bear garden." _european magazine._ [ :b] "this should be the _folly_; a very large vessel, said to have been the hulk of a ship of war or frigate, which was moored on the surrey-side of the thames, nearly opposite hungerford stairs, and, consequently, abreast of _cuper's_ gardens. it was used as a floating _tavern_ and _bagnio_. the proprietors had an idea, that a licence was not necessary for a place of this _description on the river_, and it was continued many years unrestrained, till at length its enormities became so notorious, that its suppression was deemed a most necessary object of police." _ibid._ [ :a] at hoxton. [ :a] heraclitus ridens. [ :a] no coaches to be admitted but with six horses, nor any coach to come into the park after ten of the clock in the morning. [ :a] daughter to the earl of ranelagh. [ :a] original weekly journal, may , . [ :a] "this house was one of the last of the hundreds of drury taverns (for in that district it was included). tradition formerly said it had, in the reign of charles ii. been much celebrated for the gaiety of its visitors. the rooms in which the concerts were performed and balls given, were at the top of the house: these were large, others smaller; the bar conveniently situated to see who went up stairs. all the premises, except the tavern part, which dwindled into a public-house, were let to an organ-builder and harpsichord-maker." _european magazine._ [ :a] _vide_ london chronicle, vol. ix. p. . [ :a] "if any courtier bowed in a cringing manner, or used flattering expressions, he was either banished the court, if the nature of his place admitted of it; or turned into ridicule, if his dignity exempted him from any severer punishment." lampridius, life of alexander severus. chap. iv. anecdotes of eccentricity. to particularise every species of eccentricity which has distinguished this great community would be useless; but the whims of certain individuals of it ought to be noticed, in order that a just estimate may be formed of the grand whole. in the month of november an old gentleman was found lifeless on the floor of his apartment in dartmouth-street by his landlady, who had been alarmed by hearing him fall. he died intestate, and worth _l. per annum_; but his manner of living was penurious to the most extravagant degree, allowing nature barely four-penny worth of boiled meat and broth _per_ day. when he went from home he was under the necessity of hiring a boy for a penny to lead him across the park, as he was near-sighted; but this was almost the only intercourse he had with mankind, except to receive his rents, which may be imagined from the state of his clothing as he lay dead: the body had seven shirts on it, each dreadfully soiled, and that next the skin actually decayed; and his other clothing was tied on with cords, that had even lacerated the flesh. eccentricity may exist in the brain of the most exalted character; the best intentions are often marked by it; therefore the reader must not suppose that censure is implied when good actions are classed under this head: he that deviates from the common path is eccentric; but, if his purposes are virtuous, the good man will forgive the deviation. some professors of religion are very apt to be eccentric in their conduct. joseph jacobs was the leader of a set of enthusiasts in , who preached to his votaries at turners-hall: he was originally a linen-draper. "observator" says, his congregation were "the remnant of the tribe of ishmael; for their hand is against every body, and every body's hand against them. by their bristles (they suffered their hair to flourish luxuriantly) one would take them to be a herd of the gaderines swine into which the devil has newly entered, from whom at latter lammas we shall have great cry and little wool. they are compounded of philadelphians, sweet-singers, seekers, and muggletonians. their system of divinity is a hodge-podge of jacobs' putting together, and their philosophy is that of jacob behmen's. if their women do not backslide from the truth, it is their native virtue keeps them steadfast; for their pastor by trade is authorised to examine their clouts. he that has the longest whiskers amongst them is by so much the better member; but jacobs measures their profession by the mustachio, and not by the ell and yard, as he used to do his linen. by their look you would take them to be of the society of bedlam; madmen we found them, and so we leave them." this eccentric preacher died in june . he retained the name of whisker jacobs to the day of his death. as he was singular in his life, so was he at his departure, having given orders that no mourning should be used at his interment in bunhill-fields. accordingly his executors gave the company white gloves and rings, but no scarfs or hatbands. it would be extremely wrong not to include dr. sacheverell in the list. this gentleman contrived to turn his talents in eccentricity to some account, and was the cause of a wonderful acquisition of members to the class of oddities. i shall leave the doctor's "birth, parentage, and education," to the biographers who have treated of the subject; and introduce him as a _singular_ character, and a willing instrument in the hands of faction, and as one that contrived to confound the state, rouse the passions, and raise a mob wherever he chose to exhibit himself; nay, even to animate the rev. mr. palmer, preacher at whitehall, at the risk of suspension, to pray for him by name as a patient sufferer under the persecution of the house of lords, who brought him to trial, feb. , - , on charges of having maintained that the necessary means used to bring about the revolution were odious and unjustifiable; that resistance to the supreme power was illegal under any pretence whatever; that it was the duty of superior pastors to thunder out their ecclesiastical anathema's against persons entitled to the benefit of the toleration, &c. &c.; which they decreed the commons had substantiated, contents , non-contents . after this event he became the idol of the mob, and of several well-meaning but weak people. his vanity led him to make a kind of triumphal journey through the country, where he was generally received as a conqueror, and in some instances by corporations and the clergy with flags displayed, ringing of bells, and bonfires. however disgraceful such conduct, he furnished the industrious of many classes with the means of enriching themselves: the printers and publishers fattened on his sermons and his trial; the engraver on his physiognomy; and even the fan-maker sold his "emblematical fans with the true effigies of the rev. dr. henry sacheverell done to the life, and several curious hieroglyphicks in honour of the church of england finely painted and mounted on extraordinary genteel sticks." after this summary of the doctor's exploits, who will deny his claim to eccentricity, or that he was a most unworthy son of the church, a teacher of bigotry, not of peace? but he is forgotten; and but one small marble lozenge shews his present resting-place. in gustavus parker entertained the publick with a specimen of his eccentricity, exhibited in a "monthly weather-paper," or baroscopical prognosticks of the description of weather to happen a month _after_ his publication. he even pronounced whether there would be warm or cold rain, or be clear, for the day and night, and from which point the wind would blow. though mr. parker entered into a laboured explanation of the principles on which he founded his infallible judgment, they were confuted most completely by the observations of an individual, who placed the real state of the weather opposite the anticipated; from which i pronounce him no conjurer. politicks had arrived to a dreadful state of effervescence in . many authors exerted themselves to fan the flames, and but few endeavoured to extinguish them. one eccentric person ("which lived at the sign of the queen's-arms _and corn-cutter_ in king-street, westminster, where a blue sign-board is fixed to _the other_ that shews what cures i perform, _viz._ the scurvy in the gums, or tooth-ache, likewise the piles and all casual sores, and fasteneth loose teeth, and causeth decayed gums to grow firm and well again") with more zeal than ability collected a _farrago_ of scraps of religion and moral sayings, and connected them in a way peculiar to himself by fervent wishes and pious ejaculations; which he published twice a-week under the title of the "balm of gilead, or the healer of divisions, by thomas smith, operator."--i consider this thomas smith a worthy predecessor of many an itinerant methodist. the public-house is a hot-bed for vulgar eccentricity; and without doubt the following mad exploit of four men in january - originated in one of them, which is thus described in the london post of the st. they solemnly bound themselves to support each other in every difficulty and danger that might occur during an excursion up the thames on the ice for four days, in which they determined to avoid every track made by man, and to explore a way for themselves. they set out provided with poles from the old swan near london-bridge; and two of them were seen to fall through air-holes opposite somerset-house and lambeth, but the others were never heard of. i am rather at a loss under what title to place the ignorance and absurdity displayed in the ensuing paragraph, copied from the news letter of feb. , ; but, as superstition is closely allied to folly, and eccentricity is a species of folly, i believe this to be the proper one. "the flying horse, a noted victualling-house in moor-fields, _next to that of the late astrologer trotter_, has been molested for several nights past in an _unaccountable manner_; abundance of stones, glass bottles, clay, &c. being thrown into the back side of the house, to the great _amazement and terror_ of the family and guests. it is altogether unknown how it happened, though all the neighbouring houses were diligently searched, and men appointed in proper places to find the occasion." the unknown author of the advertisement which follows appears to have been nearly related to thomas smith the corn-cutter, but far more enlightened. the motives that dictated it must be approved, however extraordinary such a production may appear in the postman of july , . "whoever you are to whose hands this comes, let the truth it contains abide upon your mind, as what is intended for your greatest benefit. the method taken i know is uncommon; yet, if there is the least probability of success, though it be only with a few, the design will be justified, as intending the glory of god in your salvation. remember then that you were once told in this manner, that being zealous for names and parties is what will stand you in no stead at death, except you have the life in you that shall never die. are you a christian? or, have you only the name from education, as it is the professed religion of your country? if you can say on your conscience you have endeavoured to lay aside prejudice wherein you might have reason to suspect yourself of it, and, apprehending your lost condition without a saviour as revealed in the gospel, you have devoted yourself to god in him, and therefore hope you are a true christian, it is well--give god the praise; but, if in your conscience you must say you have no more than the name, stay man, woman, whoever you be, consider, think before this go out of your mind or hand how you shall escape, if you neglect so great salvation." the nobility and young men of fashion of most countries are rather eccentric in their amusements; and surely this observation may safely be applied to those of england in , when a set of _escape graces_ subscribed for a piece of plate, which was run for in tyburn-road by six asses rode by chimney-sweepers; and two boys rode two asses at hampstead-heath for a _wooden spoon_ attended by above persons on horseback. women running for holland smocks was not uncommon; nay, a match was talked of for a race of women in hooped petticoats; and another actually took place in consequence of a wager of _l._ between the earl of lichfield and esquire gage, that gage's chaise and pair would outrun the earl's chariot and four. the ground was from tyburn to hayes; and gage lost through some accident. vast sums were betted on all these eccentric operations. in the month of february - , james austin, inventor of the persian ink-powder, most extravagantly grateful to his customers, determined to do an act which renders him a fit subject for my groupe of oddities. he selected the boar's-head in east-cheap for the reception of those persons, and provided for them a pudding, to be boiled fourteen days, for which he allowed a chaldron of coals; and another baked, a cube of one foot; and nearly a whole ox roasted. such was the fare. the musick was commensurate with the vastness of the entertainment, at least in one particular; which was a drum, that had served as an alarm in some turkish army, eighteen feet in length, and near four feet in diameter. swift might have made good use of austin in the travels of lemuel gulliver. mist's journal notices the austin feast a second time, and asserts that the copper for boiling the great pudding was then, april , erected at the red-lion in southwark park, where crowds of people went to see it. mist adds that the pudding would weigh lb.; and when boiled was to be conveyed to the _swan tavern_, fish-street-hill, monday, may , to the tune of "what lumps of pudding my mother gave me!" poor austin boiled his pudding, and advertised that the company expected was so numerous, he should be under the necessity of carrying it to the restoration-gardens in st. george's-fields, where he _attempted_ to convey it, as appears from a second notice; but the rabble, attracted by the ridiculous cavalcade, broke through every restraint, and carried off banners, streamers, &c. &c. which he demanded should be restored by the th of june under pain of prosecution for robbery. he says nothing of the fate of his pudding; i must therefore leave him, in order to pay attention to a fellow-labourer in the works of singularity--a poor benedict, who declared in the flying post of july , , "about two years ago i intermarried with the daughter of ben bound of foster-lane, ironmonger, who agreed to give me _l._ soon after he furnished me three rooms to the value of _l._, for which he pretended he gave _l._; upon which i asked him for the remainder of the _l._; but he answered, if i insisted upon any money, he would sue me for the goods. whereupon i filed a bill in chancery against him, and he owned in his answer he had given me the goods; but, being resolved to have them again at any rate, upon the th of june last he persuaded my wife to carry them away; and upon the th i was arrested in a sham action for _l._ at the suit of one jeffery sharpe (whom i never heard of before), and by officers carried to prison; and in the mean time my house was ransacked; and, had it not been for an attorney, i had not saved the value of one penny, most of my goods being carried away, and the rest packed up. and after they had kept my wife a fortnight, they were so barbarous to let her lie two nights upon chairs; so that she is returned to me again: and i hope if her father desist from giving her ill advice, and coveting the rest of my goods, she will still prove a good wife. john newall." a woman who lived in great apparent poverty died in march within the parish of st. dunstan in the east. those who prepared her for burial are said to have found _l._ concealed in her bed. the malicious miser deserves a niche in this temple of worthies. such was mr. elderton, a farmer of bow, who went by the name of the old farmer of newgate; where he was confined, and even died, because he had determined not to pay the assessments in common with his neighbours[ :a]. another worthy was mr. dyche, whose singularity is thus mentioned in the whitehall evening-post for august : "yesterday died mr. dyche, late school-master to the charity children of st. andrew holborn. he was a strict nonjuror, and formerly _amanuensis_ to the famous sir roger l'estrange. it is said he wore a piece of the halter in which parson paul was executed (in the rebellion of , for carrying arms against the king) in his bosom; and some time before his death had made a solemn vow _not to shift his linen_ till the pretender was seated on the throne of these realms." in the month of march an unknown lady died at her lodgings in james-street, covent-garden. she is represented to have been a middle-sized person, with dark-brown hair and very beautiful features, and mistress of every accomplishment peculiar to ladies of the first fashion and respectability. her age appeared to be between thirty and forty. her circumstances were affluent, and she possessed the richest trinkets of her sex generally set with diamonds. a john ward, esq. of hackney, published many particulars relating to her in the papers; and, amongst others, that a servant had been directed by her to deliver him a letter after her death; but as no servant appeared, he felt himself required to notice those circumstances, in order to acquaint her relations of her decease, which occurred suddenly after a masquerade, where she declared she had conversed with the king, and it was remembered that she had been seen in the private apartments of queen anne; though after the queen's demise she had lived in obscurity. this unknown arrived in london from mansfield in , drawn by six horses. she frequently said that her father was a nobleman, but that her elder brother dying unmarried the title was extinct; adding that she had an uncle then living, whose title was his least recommendation. it was conjectured that she might be the daughter of a roman catholick who had consigned her to a convent, whence a brother had released her, and supported her in privacy. she was buried at st. paul's, covent-garden. when some decay in the draw-bridge on london-bridge had rendered it necessary to prevent the passage of persons and vehicles, in order to its repair in april ; the silence and desolate appearance of a place so much frequented at all other times attracted the attention of some wealthy tradesmen, who entered into the whimsical resolution to have a table set in the midst of the street, where they sat drinking for an afternoon, that they might be enabled to say at a future period, "however crowded the bridge is at present, i have drank punch on it for great part of a day." an extraordinary method was adopted by a brewer's servant in february to prevent his liability for the payment of the debts of a mrs. brittain whom he intended to marry. the lady made her appearance at the door of st. clement danes habited in her shift; hence her enamorato conveyed the modest fair to a neighbouring apothecary's, where she was completely equipped with clothing purchased by him; and in these mrs. brittain changed her name at the church. eccentricity is generally a source of ridicule, but rarely one of profit. an instance of the latter is recorded in the london journal: a mr. morrisco, an eminent weaver, and a man of vast possessions, resident in spital-fields, had a bill drawn on him from abroad of , _l._ which was held by an ambassador at our court, and sent for acceptance. when the old gentleman made his appearance, the messenger was appalled at his figure, which exhibited penury personified; he therefore hurried back to the ambassador, full of doubts and fears whether it could be possible such a man should be capable of raising even _l._ the representative of sovereignty, terrified at the idea of his probable loss, resolved to satisfy himself by personal inspection; which he had no sooner done than morrisco divined his thoughts, and to ease them, and turn his doubts to present profit, he offered to pay the bill immediately for a valuable consideration; the offer was gladly accepted, and morrisco fairly pocketed _l._ the _produce of his shabby habiliments_. the name of don saltero, the odd collector and exhibitor of natural and artificial curiosities at chelsea, made its first appearance in the newspapers june , , whence the following whimsical account of himself and his rarities are extracted: sir, fifty years since to chelsea great from rodnam on the irish main i stroll'd, with maggots in my pate, where much improv'd they still remain. through various employs i've past: a scraper, vertuos', projector, tooth-drawer, trimmer, and at last i'm now a gimcrack whim collector. monsters of all sorts here are seen, strange things in nature as they grew so; some relicks of the sheba queen, and fragments of the fam'd bob cruso. knick-knacks too dangle round the wall, some in glass cases, some on shelf; but what's the rarest sight of all, your humble servant shows himself. on this my chiefest hope depends. now, if you will the cause espouse, in journals pray direct your friends to my museum coffee-house; and in requital for the timely favour, i'll _gratis_ bleed, draw teeth, and be your shaver; nay, that your pate may with my noddle tally, } and you shine bright as i do--marry, shall ye } freely consult my revelation molly; } nor shall one jealous thought create a huff, for she has taught me manners long enough. don saltero. _chelsea knackatory._ several frolicsome gentlemen hired a hackney-coach in , to which they affixed six horses; the coachman and postillion they habited as kennel-sweepers or scavengers; and they placed as many shoe-boys as could cling to the vehicle behind as footmen, with their stools on their heads and baskets of implements by their sides. thus equipped they drove to the ring in hyde-park, and there entertained the company with this species of eccentricity. there is a certain degree of whim in some of the wagers we find recorded in the newspapers, that, however absurd the bettors may appear, a smile is excited perforce. in the above year two gentlemen, full of money and destitute of wit, had a dispute respecting the quantity that might be eaten at one meal. this ended in a bet of _l._ proposed by one of them, that himself and _another_ would eat a bushel of tripe, and drink four bottles of wine, within an hour. the parties met at islington, where the tripe was produced and the wine displayed; nothing remained but the introduction of the _another_; that _another_, gentle reader, proved a sharp-set bear, who fully justified his friend's prognostick with the tripe diluted by three bottles of wine poured into it. applebee's original weekly journal for november , , has the following curious article, which fills another niche in our pantheon of eccentrics: "for the entertainment of our brother _dumplineers_, we shall inform them of a curiosity contrived for their accommodation at the sun tavern in st. paul's church-yard; which is the invention of mr. johnston, the master of the house; being a larder erected in the middle of his yard, which stands upon four pedestals, in a perfect round twelve feet in circumference, in the lower part whereof is three round shelves with cylindrical doors to open and shut; the same is covered with a curious slab of black and white marble three feet in diameter, and a direct circular figure, from whence the four pedestals are carried up, between each of which are two sliding sashes with convex glasses: the four pillars are adorned with curious iron-work and other ornaments, as well for beauty as use, and a shelf runs round the inside for containing proper provent for the stomach. in the midst hangs a crown of iron painted and gilt, and the top rises into a dome twelve feet in height, in the same manner as that of st. paul's, which is leaded over with four round or port holes covered with wire for the conveniency of admitting the air and keeping out the flies. on the top of the dome is a globe, upon which sits bacchus astride upon a tun, to signify his godship is willing to lay a good foundation, that he may be the better able to contain his liquor; on his head is the sun dispersing his rays; from the four sides are four sliding shelves which draw out for the accommodation of such dumplineers as desire to drink their wine at the fountain-head, or next the cellar door. the whole is neatly painted and gilt." there is sometimes a degree of eccentricity blended with revenge; an instance of which occurred in . the pastor of the parish of st. andrew undershaft had differed with a female of his flock to a very violent degree; in consequence, the lady renounced his spiritual governance while living, and solemnly declared her corpse should not receive the rites of burial from his lips when dead. this resolution was communicated by the executors to the undertaker, who provided a clergyman to officiate at the funeral. as the priest of the parish had notice of this strange proceeding, he determined to prevent the intruded priest from performing the ceremony; but the latter, equally tenacious, insisted on his right, in compliance with the lady's will. a violent dispute succeeded, which terminated by both parties reading the burial service. after this shameful scene of impiety, the parish priest retired to the vestry-room, and enquired of the clerk whether he had provided him a ticket for hat-bands and gloves, as usual. the clerk replying in a surly manner that he had not, the priest wreaked dire vengeance on his body by a thorough beating[ :a]. in short the offending clerk by his ecclesiastick was beat with fist instead of a stick. the st. james's evening post of january mentions a nameless oddity, who kept open house in his _own way_ during the holidays at a tavern near st. james's-market: "he treats all the company that comes, provided they appear fit for a gentleman to keep company with; pays his reckoning twice a day, and thinks no expence too great that their eating and drinking can put him to. he never quits his room, or changes his linen. the house has already received some hundreds of pounds from him, and is likely to receive many more, if his constitution can but do its duty. he proposes to hold it for three months; and it is said, this is not the first time he has done so." abraham simmonds, a tobacconist, who retired to enjoy a handsome independence at lewisham, died in . his widow and executrix found, to her utter dismay, upon opening his will, that he had directed his body to be buried in his own orchard, wrapped in a blanket, without any of the usual religious ceremonies; and that his favourite dog after his natural decease should be deposited in the same grave. the lady seems to have been a sagacious wife, and a good hand at a quibble. she strictly complied with the eccentric wishes of mr. simmonds; but, as that gentleman neglected to say his body must _remain_ in the orchard, she had it conveyed into a handsome coffin, and thence to the church-yard, where the parish priest performed the burial rites. orator henley, who is said to have restored the antient eloquence of the pulpit, was frequently mentioned in the newspapers _circa_ as appointed to preach charity sermons. he appears however in to have entered into the true spirit of eccentricity, and frequently advertised in the following style: "on sunday july the theological lectures of the oratory begin in the french chapel in newport-market, on the most curious subjects in divinity. they will be after the manner and of the extent of the academical lectures. the first will be on the liturgy of the oratory, without derogating from any other, at half an hour after three in the afternoon. service and sermon in the morning will be at half an hour after ten. the subjects will be always new, and treated in the most natural manner. on wednesday next, at five in the evening, will be an academical lecture on education antient and modern. the chairs that were forced back last sunday by the crowd, if they would be pleased to come a very little sooner, would find the passage easy. as the town is pleased to approve of this undertaking, and the institutor neither does nor will act nor say any thing in it that is contrary to the laws of god and his country; he depends on the protection of both, and despises malice and calumny." one of the writers of the weekly journal says, the fame of henley led him to visit the oratory, and adds, "about the usual hour of the orator's entering the public scene of action, a trap-door gave way behind the pulpit, as if forced open by some invisible hand; and at one large leap the orator jumped to the desk, where he at once fell to work. i eyed the person of the orator thoroughly, and could point out in every lineament of his face the features and muscles of a jew, with a strong tincture of the turk. but, to come to his oration, which turned on the important subject of education antient and modern--i had entertained hopes of meeting with something curious at least, if not just, on the great theme he had made choice of; though, instead of it, i heard nothing but a few common sentiments, phrases, and notions, beat into the audience with hands, arms, legs, and head, as if people's understandings were to be courted and knocked down with blows, and gesture and grimace were to plead and atone for all other deficiencies." the price of admission was one shilling. mr. henley issued his notice of intended lectures in november in the ensuing strange manner: "at the oratory in newport-market, to-morrow, at half an hour after ten, the sermon will be on the witch of endor. at half an hour after five the theological lecture will be on the conversion and original of the scottish nation, and of the picts and caledonians; st. andrew's relicks and panegyrick, and the character and mission of the apostles. "on wednesday at six, or near the matter, take your chance, will be a medley oration on the history, merits, and praise of confusion, and of confounders in the road and out of the way. "on friday will be that on dr. faustus and fortunatus and conjuration; after each the chimes of the times, no. and . n. b. whenever the prices of the seats are occasionally raised in the week-days, notice will be given of it in the prints. an account of the performances of the oratory from the first to august last is published, with the discourse on nonsense; and if any bishop, clergyman, or other subject of his majesty, or the subject of any foreign prince or state, can at my years, and in my circumstances and opportunities, without the least assistance or any patron in the world, parallel the study, choice, variety, and discharge, of the said performances of the oratory by his own or any others, i will engage forthwith to quit the said oratory. j. henley." this eccentric gentleman, full of conceit and self-sufficiency, attracted the notice of the grand jury for the city and liberty of westminster january , - , who presented him thus: "whereas the act, made in the first year of the reign of king william and queen mary, for exempting their majesties' protestant subjects dissenting from the church of england from the penalties of certain laws, was wisely designed as an indulgence for the tender and scrupulous consciences of such dissenters, and as a means to unite all the protestant subjects in interest and affection: and whereas it is notorious, that john henley, clerk in priest's orders according to the form of the church of england, did about three years since hire a large room over the market-house in newport-market within this city and liberty of westminster, and cause the said room to be registered in the court of the archdeacon of middlesex (pursuant to the said act of toleration) as a place for religious worship, to be performed therein by him the said john henley, who pretended to dissent from the church of england on account of infant baptism (although that has been the least of his exercises, nor are his audiences of that persuasion), and by his advertisements in the public newspapers invited all persons to come thither, and take seats for twelve-pence a-piece, promising them diversion under the titles of _voluntaries_, _chimes of the times_, _roundelays_, _college-bobs_, _madrigals_, and _operas_, &c.: and whereas it appears to us, by information upon oath, that the said john henley, notwithstanding his professed dissention and separation from the church of england, has usually appeared in the habit worn by priests of the church of england; and in that habit has for several months past upon one or more days in the week made use of the said room for purposes very different from those of religious worship; and that he has there discoursed on several subjects of burlesque and ridicule, and therein and in his comments upon the public newspapers, and in his weekly advertisements, has uttered several indecent, libertine, and obscene expressions, and made many base and malicious reflections upon the established churches of england and scotland, upon the convocation, and almost all orders and degrees of men, and upon particular persons by name, and even those of the highest rank: and whereas it appears to us more particularly, by information upon oath, that he the said john henley did, on the th day of december last, cause to be published in the daily post an advertisement, giving notice that on the evening of the next day he would pronounce king lear's oration in an apology for madness, on which evening he did in the said room (called by him the oratory) in the habit of a clergyman of the church of england repeat a speech out of the tragedy of king lear, acting in such manner and with such gestures as are practised in the theatres; and that the said john henley did, on the th day of the same month, cause to be published in the said daily post another advertisement, inviting such as went the following evening to the ball in the haymarket to come first to his said room in their habits and masks for twelve-pence a-piece; and that according to such invitation several persons so dressed and masked did then and there appear, and were admitted upon paying the said moneys, for their seats: "we the grand jury for, &c. conceiving that this behaviour of the said john henley is contrary to the intention of the said act of toleration, and tends to bring a disrepute upon the indulgence so charitably granted to truly scrupulous dissenters, that it gives great offence to all serious christians, is an outrage upon civil society, and of dangerous consequence to the state, and particularly that the said assemblies by him held as aforesaid are unlawful ones, his said room not being licensed for plays, interludes, or masquerades, do present the said john henley, and his accomplices and assistants to us unknown, as guilty of unlawful assemblies, routs, and riots, &c. &c. &c." henley, actuated by the genuine spirit of perseverance and opposition, proceeded with his lectures. if _any effect_ was observable from the presentment, it was that of threefold eccentricity and impropriety of subjects for his orations. the bill of fare issued for sunday september , , contains a list of the fashions in dress of the time, and is therefore curious: "at the oratory, the corner of lincoln's-inn-fields near clare-market, to-morrow, at half an hour after ten: , the postil will be on the turning of lot's wife into a pillar of salt; , the sermon will be on the necessary power and attractive force which religion gives the spirit of man with god and good spirits. "ii. at five: , the postill will be on this point, _in what language our saviour will speak the last sentence on mankind_; , the lecture will be on jesus christ's sitting at the right-hand of god, _where that is_; the honours and lustre of his inauguration; the learning, criticism, and piety of that glorious article. "the monday's orations will shortly be resumed. on wednesday the oration will be on the skits of the fashions, or a _live_ gallery of family pictures in all ages; ruffs, muffs, puffs manifold; shoes, wedding-shoes, two-shoes, slip-shoes, peels, clocks, pantofles, buskins, pantaloons, garters, shoulder-knots, perriwigs, head-dresses, modesties, tuckers, farthingales, corkins, minikins, slammakins, ruffles, round-robbins, toilets, fans, patches; dame, forsooth, madam, my lady, the wit and beauty of my grannum; winifred, joan, bridget, compared with our winny, jenny, and biddy; fine ladies and pretty gentlewomen; being a general view of the _beau monde_ from before noah's flood to the year . on friday will be something better than last tuesday. after each a bob at the times." i believe the following curious advertisement to have been the production of the lady hamilton, widow of the duke killed by lord mohun: "i elizabeth duchess dowager of hamilton acknowledge i have for several months been ill in my health, but was never speechless, as certain penny authors have printed; and so, to confute these said authors and their intelligence, it is thought by my most intimate friends, _it is the very last thing that will happen to me_. i am so good an englishwoman that i would not have my countrymen imposed on by purchasing false authors; therefore, have ordered this to be printed, that they may know what papers to buy and believe, that are not to be bribed by those who may have private ends for false reports. the copy of this is left in the hands of mr. berington, to be shewn to any body who has a curiosity to see it signed by my own hand. e. hamilton[ :a]." another, published in september , was inclosed by a deep border of black, and is strongly demonstrative of religious eccentricity, or, if you please, religious frenzy. "just published, divine inspiration; or a collection of manifestations to make known the visitation of the lord, and the coming of his kingdom in great power and glory, according to the scripture promise, by the preaching of the everlasting gospel, as rev. xix. &c. "also, that the righteousness of god in his express sovereign power, wisdom, and love, may be known in the divine word, the sent of god to manifest and execute divine will both in mercy and judgment, the two great witnesses, the messengers of god in this approaching day of the lord upon us. "lastly, this is the earnest prayer of them that have known and tasted the power of the divine word, and who, as a testimony of their knowing god, in his out-speaking word immediately revealing, and from universal love and charity wishing true knowledge may descend, and increase and multiply in and upon man of every order and every degree, and to be the voice and word of god, do here give and set their hands, believing he that now speaks will come, and that suddenly, according as hath been the voice of the spirit of the holy ghost, the comforter in the anointed, saying, so come, o lord." this strange effusion is signed by twelve persons, four of whom were women. "by the mouth of hannah wharton at birmingham and worcester." master henley thus informed the publick in october : "before any person casts an imputation on me, in reference to the oratory, wherein i know no fault but one, that it is a pattern of the truest principles of religion, with the most various and assiduous endeavour to merit, in the capacity of a scholar and a clergyman, that is, or ever was in this island, or in the world; before i am reflected upon for this, i would desire every man who educates a son to orders, and him who is so educated, to consider this case, and to make it his own. "i waited some years ago on a certain prelate with a solicitation of a pulpit in town, signifying my resolution to cultivate and exert the talent of preaching which god had given me, in the most complete and public manner. his answer was, that i might be of use; but, before he could do for me, he must have a _pledge_ of my attachment to the government. i was an entire stranger to politicks; but gave him that _pledge_. "a pledge demanded, given, and accepted for a consideration, is a contract for that consideration; the hinge of my interest and fortune very much turned upon it. it was the year - , a tender crisis; and, doubtless, he made a job of it to the government. when i applied for the consideration, he shifted off. had he any possible exception to my intellectual or moral qualifications (though nothing can be more immoral, or sooner make the world atheists than a perfidious prelate), he should, before he drew me in, have told me, that if he met with any such exception, he would not do what i solicited; and that he would take time to examine. this would have been fair. he assigned no exception at all during a whole year, till i had sacrificed my interest to him on his own demand; and it is easy to frame exceptions, if a person be inclined to break his word. my judgment is, he and his clergy even envied me in the pulpit, and were jealous of my advancement, timorous that at court there might be a patron, or a patroness of learning, and apprehensive that i might outstrip them there. was i on my death-bed, i would take the sacrament, that i know the former part, and believe the latter part (without the least vanity for so poor a triumph as excelling them would be) of this advertisement to be a matter of fact. j. henley." a _miss_ jennings, or rather perhaps _mrs._ jennings, died in november , who is said to have laid strong claims to eccentricity. this lady breathed her last at the _oxford-arms inn_, warwick-lane; and was buried at christ-church, newgate-street; but the singularity of her conduct consisted in a predilection for _inns_; she made them in short her constant residence, whether in the country or in london, where she had her steward, two female servants, a coachman and footman; and, though she sometimes remained several months stationary, her bills were regularly paid every night. at the same time her host was kept in utter ignorance of her name. mrs. jennings left a fortune of , _l._ to five children, her first cousins; and appointed ---- jennings, esq. of northaw, her executor. a chair-woman, named frances white, was interred at st. margaret's, westminster, in ; but the _singularity_ of the circumstance is, that she should have been deposited before the altar of the church, which she thus accomplished: in the course of her pursuits she was observed to be remarkably assiduous and industrious, and often asked charitable assistance: this she frequently received, and so carefully preserved that her sister gained a bequest of _l._ on the easy condition of procuring a grave for her body _within_ the church, and affording it a handsome funeral. the above sum had been concealed in various _hiding-places_ contrived in her chamber. a writer in the weekly miscellany for august , , pertinently observed, that "the attention of the good people of england is very frequently ingrossed by the bold pretensions of persons starting up from time to time in several sciences, but more particularly in those of divinity and physick; and with the more reason of hoping to succeed in their views, as the soul, in which the one is concerned, and the body, in which the other, are the two grand subjects which engage the human mind; and each of these pretenders respectively becomes in vogue for a certain period, and then generally dies away in a silence proportioned to the noise they once made. the stroking doctor in the reign of charles ii.; the french prophets in the reign of queen anne; the quicksilver lunacy lately; the itinerant preaching quakeress since; and mr. ward's pill and drop, not yet quite gone off from its vogue--are signal instances of the truth of our observation. so it may be observed, that the quicksilver fashion seems to have been beat out of doors by the pill and drop; and now the vogue of the pill and drop, which seem to owe their success to their violent operation in desperate cases, appears in a fair way of subsiding to a new object of the public attention, which really seems (beyond all that we have named) to deserve it, as it is attended with plain and unartificial fact, as it is neither violent or dangerous in the operation, and carries in every act the clearest demonstration along with it.--what we mean is the famous female bone-setter of epsom, who must be allowed as much to excel the others, as certainty does imagination, as simplicity does artifice, and as seeing and feeling do the other senses. "this person, we are told, is daughter of one wallin, a bone-setter of hindon, wilts, and sister of that polly peachem whom a gentleman of fortune married. upon some family quarrel she left her father, and wandered up and down the country in a very miserable manner, calling herself _crazy sally_; and often, as it is presumed for grief, giving way to a practice that made her appear to have too good a title to the name. arriving at last at epsom, she has performed such wonderful cures, that we are told the people thereabout intend a subscription for _l._ a year to keep her among them." many of those cures are then described, which seem well attested, and are really surprising. "in fine, the concourse of people to epsom on this occasion is incredible; and it is supposed she gets near guineas a day, as she executes what she does in a very quick manner. she has strength enough to put in any mans shoulder without assistance; and this her strength makes the following story, which may be depended upon, the more credible. "an impostor came to her, sent, as it is supposed, by some surgeons, on purpose to try her skill, with his head bound up; and pretended that his wrist was put out; which, upon examination, she found to be false; but, to be even with him, she gave it a wrench, and really put it out, and bade him go to the fools who sent him, and get it _sett again_; or, if he would come to her that day month, she would do it herself." this strange woman utterly ruined herself by giving way to that eccentricity, which too frequently in one way or other marks all our characters. the object of it was a mr. hill mapp, on whom she fixed her affections, and to whom she was determined at all events to be married, though every effort was made by her friends to prevent the match. on the day appointed for the ceremony, sir james edwards, of walton-upon-thames, waited on her with the daughter of mr. glass, an attorney, a poor afflicted child whose neck was dislocated and supported by steel instruments. miss wallin saw the girl, and said she could restore the parts, but would do nothing till she became mrs. mapp. a gentleman present, finding her resolute, lent her his chariot to convey her to ewell, where she expected to obtain a conveyance to london with her intended husband, though in that expectation she was disappointed. "as she was going to ewell, mr. walker, brazier, of cheapside, met her, and returned with her to the inn. he was carrying down his daughter to her, a girl about years of age, whose case was as follows: the vertebræ, instead of descending regularly from the neck, deviated to the right scapula, whence it returned towards the left side, till it came within a little of the hip-bone, thence returning to the locus, it descended regularly upon the whole, forming a serpentine figure. miss wallin set her strait, made the back perfect, and raised the girl two inches. while this was doing, sir james edwards's chariot with two gentlemen in it, came to beg her to come back to epsom, suspecting she might not return again; but all their persuasions availed nothing, and the best terms they could make with her were, that she should not go to london to be married, but have the chariot and go to headley, about three miles from epsom. as the coachman was driving her by epsom, she was told that the minister of headley was suspended for marrying mr. c. whereupon the coachman said he would carry her no further, unless it was to epsom. she then alighted, and went into a cottage on the side of the town; presently after which, information being given that she was there, mrs. shaw and several other ladies of that place went to her on foot to importune her to return; but, to avoid any farther solicitation, she protested she would never come nigh the town, if they opposed her marriage any longer; and then walked on towards banstead. sir james edwards, being informed how much she was affronted by his coachman, immediately ordered a pair of his horses to be put to a four-wheeled chaise, and sent them with another driver to offer their service to convey her where she pleased. mr. bridgwater in his chaise, and several other people on horseback, followed her also, and overtook her when she had walked about a mile over the downs towards banstead, where she had determined to be married. when she came there, the minister having no licences, she returned to her first resolution of going to london; but, the horses having travelled that morning from walton, and being harassed about without any refreshment, the coachman was afraid to venture so far as london with them, and desired to be excused; upon which mr. bridgwater, in regard to the child sir james edwards had brought, and other unhappy creatures who were in epsom waiting for their cure, brought her in his chariot to london, saw her married, and conveyed her back again immediately after, being fully resolved to see her perform her promise." mrs. mapp was buried at the expence of the parish of st. giles in !! the methods adopted by lord and lady vane to render themselves conspicuous in the annals of their country were so extremely eccentric, and are so well known, that their shades would feel indignant should i refuse the viscount's advertisement a niche in this odd catalogue of worthies. his lordship thus introduced himself to public notice january , : "whereas frances, wife of the right honourable the lord viscount vane, has for some months past absented herself from her husband, and the rest of her friends, i do hereby promise to any person or persons who shall discover where the said lady vane is concealed, to me or to francis hawes, esq. her father, so that either of us may come to the speech of her, the sum of _l._ as a reward to be paid by me on demand at my lodgings in piccadilly. i do also promise the name of the person, who shall make such discovery, shall be concealed, if desired. any person concealing or lodging her after this advertisement, will be prosecuted with the utmost rigour. or, if her ladyship will return to me, she may depend upon being kindly received. she is about years of age, tall, well-shaped, has light brown hair, is fair-complexioned, and has her upper teeth placed in an irregular manner. she had on when she absented a red damask french sacque, and was attended by a french woman, who speaks very bad english. vane." the variety produced under this head is already so great that i shall desist, lest i tire my readers: besides, it will be difficult to select instances nearer our present time without offending individuals or their relatives. footnotes: [ :a] original weekly journal, dec. , . [ :a] this affair is mentioned in all the newspapers of the day. [ :a] evening post, may , . index. a. abel, mr. concert by, ii. . accession of george iii. celebrated, i. . accident, dreadful, at covent garden theatre, ii. . ---- fatal, in westminster, i. . actors, scale of merit of various, ii. . advertisement by lord vane, i. . Ætna, mount, eruption of, represented, ii. . allen, w. jun. shot, ii. . ---- description of his tomb, ii. . ---- w. sen. his petition to the king, ii. . almanac john, and his sigils, i. . ambassador, riot at the house of the morocco, ii. . anne, queen, communication of, to the lord mayor, ii. . apollo gardens, account of, i. . apprentices, turbulence of, ii. . archers, entertainment for, i. . architecture, domestic, notices of, ii. . ass race, account of one, ii. . asylum, the, account of, i. . atalanta, acted on the marriage of the prince of wales, ii. . attalo, opera of, account of, ii. . austin, j. account of his enormous pudding, i. . b. bancroft's hospital, i. . barker, gladiator, fights stokes, ii. . barley-corn, sir john, burnt, i. . battles at covent garden theatre, ii. . beadles, number and salaries of, i. . beard, mr. his address to the public, ii . bear-garden, amusements of the, described, ii. , , , , , , . ---- attempt to suppress, ii. , . beau of , described, i. . ---- , ii. . ---- portrait of, in verse, i. . bed, one described, ii. . beer given to the mob by the prince of wales, i. . beggars, trick of r. alegil, i. . ---- tricks of, i. , . benefit, farinelli's, ii. . benefits, theatrical, confusion at, ii. . betting, specimens of, i. . billiard tables, burnt, i. . bills, seditious, explosion of, ii. . boxing, patronised by the rich, i. . bread, adulteration of, bad effects of, i. . bricks, first used, ii. . ---- badly made, ii. . bristol, bishop of, letter to his parishioners, i. . buck, gladiator, fights miller, ii. . buckingham, duchess of, adopts an infant, i. . bucks, bold, account of a club so named, i. . burges, dr. burnt in effigy, i. . ---- ---- meeting burnt, ii. . butchers, battles between, ii. . butterfield, lady, advertisement by, ii. . c. cæsar in egypt, epigram on the tragedy of, ii. . cards, i. . centinel, anecdote of one, ii. . chairmen, irish, fight with sailors, ii. . ---- scheme of one, to obtain a debt, ii. . charitable acts of george i. i. , . ---- ---- of c. weedon, esq. i. . ---- ---- of mr. feast, brewer, i. . ---- ---- of the prince regent, i. . ---- ---- of unknown persons, i. . ---- ---- of the earl of thanet, i. . ---- ---- of mrs. turner, i. . ---- ---- of roman catholics, i. . ---- ---- of lady holford, i. . ---- ---- of thomas guy, i. . ---- ---- of the citizens, to the haymakers, i. , . ---- ---- of mahomet, a turk, i. . ---- ---- of mrs. palmer, i. . ---- ---- of a committee of the commons, i. . ---- ---- of the duke of bedford, i. . ---- ---- of the public to the inhabitants of saltzburg, i. . ---- ---- of the managers of drury-lane and covent-garden theatres, i. . ---- ---- of the dutchess of buckingham, i. . ---- ---- of eliz. pattent, i. . ---- ---- of the public to c. shaw, i. . ---- ---- of the marine society, i. . ---- ---- of an unknown baker to starving german emigrants, i. . ---- ---- of mr. wachsel, the public, and government, to the same, i. , &c. ---- ---- of the public to spital-fields weavers, i. . ---- ---- to the poor, i. . china jars, fashionable articles, i. . christmas, customs at, described, i. . ---- boxes noticed, i. . cities, models of exhibited, ii. . clergy, sons of the, i. . clinch, exhibition by, ii. . clive, mrs. actress, letter from, ii. . club, calves-head, riot occasioned by, ii. . clubs, spouting, account of, poetic and prosaic, ii. . coaches, hackney, i. . ---- ---- useless, by street robberies, i. . ---- ---- job, &c. ill conduct of their drivers, i. . coal-heavers, riots by, ii. . ---- trial of seven for shooting at j. green, ii. . cobler of cripplegate, hints by, i. . cock-fighting, i. . ii. , . coffee-houses, particulars of, i. , . colman, mr. his retort on mr. harris, ii. . comedians, french, discouraged, ii. . ---- ---- riot concerning, ii. . concerts, illegal, i. . conduit-house, white, described in blank verse, ii. . convents, french, female youth sent to, i. . cornely, mrs. account of, ii. . cups and balls, cheats with, i. . curiosity, prevalence of, i. , . cuthbeartson, hair-dresser, challenge from, i. . cuzzoni, singer, particulars of, ii. . d. dancing, by footmen, &c. i. . ---- on the rope, ii. . davenant, sir w. picture of london by, ii. . defence, science of, ii. . denmark, king of, incommoded by the public, i. . dent, john, constable, murdered, i. . depredators, an antient fraternity, i. . dice, formerly used by barrow women, i. . dissenters, vindicated, ii. . dodd, dr. on his unhappy fate, i. . dog, speaking, ii. . doggett's coat and badge first rowed for, i. . doggrel lines on the south sea scheme, i. . drams, drank in high life, i. , . dress, anecdotes of, ii. . ---- of a youth described, ii. . ---- of ladies described, ii. , , , . ---- of the queen described, ii. , . ---- strange, of gentlemen, ii. . ---- in antient times, ii. . drumming a new married pair, i. . duelling, prevalence of, i. . dutch prophet, extract from the, i. . ---- stiptick, i. . e. eccentricity of an old gentleman, i. . ---- of joseph jacobs, i. . ---- of dr. sacheverell, i. . ---- of gustavus parker, i. . ---- of t. smith, operator, i. . ---- of four men, i. . ---- of men of rank and fashion, i. . ---- of james austin, i. . ---- of mr. elderton, i. . ---- of mr. dyche, i. . ---- of an unknown lady, i. . ---- of certain tiplers, i. . ---- of a brewer's servant, i. . ---- of mr. morrisco, i. . ---- of don saltero, i. . ---- of several gentlemen, i. . ---- of mr. johnston, i. . ---- of a priest of st. andrew undershaft, i. . ---- of a. simmonds, i. . ---- of orator henley, i. . ---- of the duchess of hamilton, i. . ---- of mrs. jennings, i. . ---- of a chare-woman, i. . ---- of mrs. mapp, the bone-setter, i. . ---- of viscount vane, i. . eclogue, covent-garden, i. . education, particulars of, i. . effingham, countess of, robes of, described, ii. . erasmus, letter of, on the state of london, ii. . exchange-alley, account of, i. . expences at guildhall , i. . explosion, popular, ii. . f. fair, at mile-end, presented, i. . ---- horn, noticed, i. . ---- edmonton, censured, i. . ---- may, ii. . ---- ---- constable killed at, ii. . ---- ---- presented, ii. . ---- bartholomew, ii. , . ---- ---- interlude at, described, ii. . ---- ---- further noticed, ii. , . ---- ---- described in verse, ii. . ---- ---- presented by the grand jury, ii. . families, antient, customs, &c. of, ii. . fare, bill of, at guildhall, i. . farinelli, benefit of, ii. . fashion, verses on, i. . fashions, general review of female, ii. . ---- history of, ii. . ---- ---- of male, ii. . ---- gradual changes in, ii. . faustus, dr. story of a pantomime so called, ii. . felons, number tried in beckford's mayoralty, &c. i. . fête champêtre at mary-bon gardens, ii. . fielding, sir john, address from, to the public, for establishing a dispensary for infants, i. . ---- address of, to the public concerning a coalheaver's funeral, i. . ---- address to the grand jury, , i. . ---- ---- to a similar body, i. . figg, gladiator, fights holmes, ii. . ---- ---- lines on, ii. . ---- battle at his room, ii. . ---- fights before the duke of lorrain, ii. . fire, false alarm at drury-lane theatre, ii. . fire-eater, extraordinary, ii. . fitzgerald, capt. murder of a watchman by, i. . fleet marriages, i. . florists' feast, i. . foote, letter to lord chamberlain, ii. . fund, mr. patterson's account of a charitable, i. . ---- theatrical, ii. . g. gaming, extent of, i. , , , . garret, mayor of, election of, i. . garrick, mr. his dispute with the public, ii. . ---- retires from the stage, ii. . garth, dr. extract from a prologue by him, ii. . george i. honours paid him on his arrival, i. . ---- ---- aquatic excursion by, i. . ii. . ---- ii. account of his dining at guildhall, i. . ---- iii. benevolence of, i. . ---- ---- celebration of his accession, marriage, &c. i. . ---- ---- entertained at guildhall, i. . ghost, the cock-lane, narrative of, i. . gibson, a quaker, turbulence of, ii. . gifts, by the society for the relief of widows and children of clergymen, i. . ---- of the trustees for the sons of, i. . ---- to british seamen who had been in slavery, i. , . gin, destructive effects of, i. , , . ---- riots occasioned by, ii. . ---- ludicrous description of its virtues, ii. . gladiators, female, notices of, ii. . glasses, musical, account of, ii. . goodman, a highwayman, escape of, &c. i. . gordon, lord george, riots occasioned by, ii. . goulding, mrs. story of supernatural acts in her house, i. . green, j. house of, besieged, ii. . grosley, m. extract from his tour to london, i. . guinea dropping, i. . h. halls, public, how used formerly, i. . handel, anecdotes of, ii. . harlequinades introduced, ii. . harley, lord mayor, notice from respecting wheat, ii. . harper, comedian, hard case of, ii. . harris, mr. account of his dispute with mr. colman, ii. . ---- mr. his dispute decided in chancery, ii. . hartley, mr. death of, ii. . hawes, mr. meeting-house of, stormed, ii. . hell-fire club, account of the, i. , . hearses, stormed, ii. . highgate, cave at, suppressed, i. . hill, ludgate, brutal acts on, ii. . hoaxing, specimens of, i. , . hockley-in-the-hole, account of, ii. . ---- presented, ii. . hospitals, observations on, i. , . ---- foundling, i. . ---- small-pox, i. . ---- at hyde-park corner, instituted, i. . ---- lying-in, i. . houses, dreadful state of empty, i. . ---- disorderly, suppressed, i. . ---- gaming, particulars of, i. . ---- mug, riots at, ii. . ---- necessary for man, ii. . ---- antient, in london, ii. . ---- fall of old, ii. . ---- public, too numerous, ii. . howard, john, esq. letters from, i. . humane society, origin of, i. . hyp doctor, extract from, ii. . i. incendiaries, letters of, i. . ii. . infant actors censured, ii. . infirmary, established , i. . impostors, singular, i. , , , , . insurance upon lives, i. . ---- policies of, risked on all subjects, i. . ---- abuse of, i. . ---- of lottery tickets, ii. . islington spa, amusements at, ii. . j. jacobites, proceedings of, ii. . jewish marriage, splendid one, ii. . joke, practical, instance of a, i. . jones, footman, escape from justice, i. . journeymen, general manners of, ii. . justice, courts of, turbulence in, i. . k. kemble, mr. first appearance of, ii. . kenrick, dr. his school of shakspeare, ii. . knocking at doors illustrated, i. . l. lambeth wells, ii. , . lamps, coloured, first used, i. . ---- globular, patent for, ii. . ---- particulars concerning, ii. . law, the projector, i. . ---- anecdotes of, i. . lepines, de, pantomimic opera, ii. . letter from a, b, &c. to the bishop of bristol, i. . ---- incendiary, to mr. fleetwood, ii. . liquors, spirituous, convictions for selling of, ii. . london, city of, lying-in hospital, i. . lord mayor, soliciting charity in the markets, i. . lotteries, tricks of proprietors of, i. . ii. . ---- state, account of, ii. . ---- of deer, i. . ludgate, illumination of described, i. . m. macky, his summary of the customs of london, i. . maclane, donald, trial of, for the murder of w. allen, jun. ii. . macklin, account of his conduct in his dispute with reddish, ii. . ---- his letter to dr. kenrick, ii. . ---- his attempt to perform at the age of , ii. . mad-houses, private, abuses in, i. . magdalen hospital, i. . managers, theatrical, parsimony of, ii. . manners, society for reformation of; effects of their labours, i. , , , . ---- anecdotes of, from m. grosley's tour, i. . mapp, mrs. bone-setter, account of, i. . mary, lady, catastrophe of, ii. . mary-le-bon garden, ii. , , . masks, instance of their abuse, i. . masquerade, room used for, ii. . ---- given to the king of denmark, ii. . ---- mrs. cornely's, ii. . masters of defence, presented, ii. . mead, dr. a cheat performed on, i. . mercers, folly of, i. . milliners, men, supersede women, i. . milton's daughter, &c. i. . mist, his advice to the public, i. . mob, brutality of, i. , . ---- infatuation of, i. . ii. . ---- fashionable, exertions of, ii. . mohawks, account of the, ii. . money-lenders, schemes of, exposed, i. . montague, duke of, and the bottle conjuror, ii. . moorfields, resort of merry andrews, ii. . mourning, court order concerning, ii. . mug-houses, ii. . music-room, soho, opened, ii. . n. narrative of distress and death by famine in stonecutter's street, i. . necromancy, by john bonnor, i. . nectar and ambrosia, i. . nicolini, the singer, good fortune of, ii. . o. oades, dreadful riot between persons of that name, i. . opera, tradesmen of the, unpaid, ii. . ---- notice concerning, by mr. clayton, &c. ii. . ---- house, presented by a grand jury, ii. . ---- ---- disputes at, ii. . ---- merits of the italians, in the, ii. . ---- the beggars, performed by infants, ii. . ---- ---- ---- condemned by sir j. fielding, ii. . ---- that of attalo described, ii. . orange, prince of, married, i. . oratorios, handel's, ii. . organ, curious, ii. . owl, singular exhibition of one, ii. . p. palmer, mr. comedian, considered a _rogue_, &c. ii. . pantheon, described, and opened, ii. . parish poor, facts relative to, i. - . patents, theatrical, particulars of, ii. , , , , , , . parties, family, customs of, i. . paul's, st. how used formerly, i. . paving, notices relating to, ii. . _peace_ pudding, account of one, i. . penkethman, account of his pantheon, ii. . ---- booth of, suppressed, ii. . perfuming the person, illustrated, i. . peruke-makers, petition of, ii. . petticoat, the hooped, troublesome, ii. . ---- ---- ---- fair game for wits, ii. . philips, mr. invocation by, i. . picture, moving, exhibited, ii. . pipes of the new river, tapped, i. . plate, stole at a coronation dinner, i. . plays performed at the temple, ii. , . police, report of a committee on, i. . poor laws, defective, i. . ---- wretched lodgings of, i. . pope, burning of, in effigy, prevented, ii. . ---- burnt in effigy, ii. . posture master, extraordinary, ii. . press, degraded state of, i. . preston, c. killed by a bear, ii. . proclamation for suppressing vice, seconded by the public, i. . ---- against riots, ii. . ---- against improprieties on the stage, ii. . ---- by the lord mayor, ii. . prologue, spoken at drury-lane theatre, i. . promenade, sunday, in hyde-park, i. . prostitutes, whipped, i. . punch, liquid, epitaph on, ii. . ---- opera, by powell, ii. . q. quacks, specimens of their advertisements, i. , . quakers, perverseness of, i. . ---- grand wedding of one, i. . ---- instance of humility in one, i. . queen charlotte, splendid surprize of his majesty, ii. . queensberry, duchess of, epigram on, ii. . r. ranelagh, fight of _peace_ officers at, ii. . ---- house sold, ii. . ---- benefit given by proprietors of, ii. . ---- defects in the rotunda at, ii. . regatta, on the thames, described, ii. . register offices, tricks at, i. . review of various charities, i. . rice, david, strange notice by, i. . rich, c. esq. death of, ii. . riots, public, i. . ii. , , . ---- dreadful, in the haymarket, i. . ---- amongst footmen, ii. . ---- in craven-street, ii. . ---- at an undertaker's funeral, ii. . ---- concerning wilkes and liberty, ii. . ---- of , ii. . robberies, letter from lord townshend concerning, i. . robinson, mrs. cheated by a pretended quack, i. . roebuck tavern, proceedings at, ii. , . rogues and vagabonds, theatrically defined, ii. . royal aquatic excursion, i. . ruptured poor, hospital for, i. . s. sabbath, breach of, condemned, i. . sacheverell, dr. riots during his trial, ii. . sailors, battle of, with irish chairmen, ii. . ---- further violence of, ii. . schools, charity, particulars of, i. , , . ---- boarding, pernicious, i. . sermon tasters, i. . sheppard, the robber, anecdotes of, ii. , . shopmen described, i. . signs, dangerous, ii. . sion chapel, hampstead, weddings advertised at, i. . smock races, ii. , . society for relief of debtors, origin of, i. . ---- loyal, proceedings of, ii. . ---- benefit, origin of, ii. . ---- sketches of the present state of, ii. . steele, sir r. his patent invaded, ii. . stepney feast, account of, i. . stock, south sea, distress occasioned by the fall of, i. , . stone, exclusively used for palaces, ii. . streets, various obstructions in, noticed, ii. . ---- improved, ii. . ---- cleanliness of, ii. . ---- st. james's, humorous description of, ii. . subscription for clothing soldiers, i. . suicide, horrid narrative of, i. . sutton, poetical description of his battle with stokes, ii. . swearing, attempt to suppress, i. . swindlers, counsellor _tom_ and _sir john_, i. . swords, footmen forbid to wear them, ii. . t. tailors, journeymen, turbulence of, ii. . term-time described in verse, i. . thames, diversions on the ice of the, ii. . theatres, particulars relating to the, i. . ii. , , . ---- presented, ii. . ---- impiety of, suppressed, ii. . ---- ragged regiments of, ii. . ---- lincoln's-inn opened, ii. . ---- haymarket opened, ii. . ---- ---- re-erected, ii. . ---- ---- opened, ii. , . ---- goodman's-fields, ii. , , . ---- covent-garden built, ii. . ---- ---- decorations of, ii. . ---- ---- lines to the proprietors of, ii. . ---- ---- riots at, ii. , , , . ---- ---- dispute concerning, ii. . ---- ---- improved, ii. . ---- drury-lane improved, ii. , . ---- ---- alarm of fire at, ii. . ---- ---- admission raised, ii. , . ---- ---- riot at, ii. . ---- ---- rebuilt, ii. . ---- ---- described, ii. . ---- dissertation on the, ii. . theatrical trial, ii. . ---- consequences, ii. . tottenham-court-road, interlude there, ii. . tradesmen, fancied improvements of, i. . ---- manner of living in , i. . ii. . trumpet, the use of, licensed, ii. . trunk-maker, account of the, ii. . twelfth-day, how celebrated, i. . v. vacation, the lawyers, described in verse, i. . vales, custom of giving, opposed, i. . vauxhall, first notice of, ii. . ---- statement of the proprietors, ii. . ---- proposal of the proprietors, ii. . ---- improper conduct at, ii. , . vice, society for suppression of, i. , . vigo, trick relating to the treasure taken there, i. . vintners, hardships of, i. . w. wachsel, mr. letters of, relating to german emigrants, i. . wager, pedestrian, i. , . ii. . wales, prince of, marriage described, i. . ---- ---- ---- attempt to assassinate, ii. . ---- frederick, prince of, a corporal, ii. . walpole, sir r. beats a comedian, ii. . watchmen. see beadle. watermen, vulgar jests and abuse by, i. , , . water theatre, ii. . weavers, spitalfields, violence of, ii. , , , , . welsh charity school, i. . wells, of the bear-garden, epitaph on, ii. . ---- new tunbridge, ii. . ---- sadler's, ii. . ---- ---- dreadful accident at, ii. . welton, dr. his religious assembly dispersed, ii. . west, matthew, first who divided lottery tickets, ii. . whale, skeleton of one exhibited, ii. . wife, advertising for, i. . wigs, strange method of stealing them, i. . ---- high price and importance of, ii. , , . wild, jonathan, account of his villanies, ii. . wilkes, john, esq. burning of north briton, ii. . ---- ---- address of, to the freeholders of middlesex, ii. . williams, renwick, the _monster_, i. . wool-combers, procession of, i. . work-house, london, statement concerning, i. . ---- quaker, an example for others, i. . wren, sir c. author of the present style of building, ii. . y. youth, manner of educating, i. . z. zeal, religious, instances of, i. , . index of names. a. abel, ii. . abington, ii. . ackman, ii. . addison, i. . albemarle, i. . aldrich, i. . alegil, i. . allen, ii. , . amiconi, ii. . anderson, ii. . armstrong, i. . arne, ii. . attilia, ii. . aumont, i. . austin, i. . b. bancroft, i. . barclay, i. . barker, ii. . barnes, ii. . barry, ii. . bartlett, i. . bartoldi, ii. . beard, ii. . becher, i. . beckford, i. . ii. . bedford, i. , . bellpine, i. . bennet, ii. . bernachi, ii. . betterton, ii. . bonnor, i. . bononcini, ii. . bononi, ii. . booth, ii. , . bowler, ii. . bray, i. . brittain, i. . buck, ii. . buckingham, i. . bull, i. . burges, i. . ii. . burlington, ii. . burton, i. . butterfield, ii. . c. carey, i. . carlini, ii. . carlisle, ii. . carlton, i. . case, i. . chamberlain, i. . chandos, i. . ii. . child, i. . chetwynd, ii. . cholmondeley, ii. . cibber, ii. , . clarges, ii. . clark, i. . clayton, ii. , . clive, ii. . cogan, i. . cole, ii. . collingwood, i. . colman, ii. . condamine, i. . coram, i. , , . cornele, ii. . cornely, ii. . cotesworth, i. . cowper, i. . ii. . crackenthorp, i. . cunningham, i. . cuthbeartson, i. . cuzzoni, ii. , . d. davenant, ii. . dent, i. . dimsdale, i. . dingley, i. . ii. . dodd, i. . doggett, i. . ii. . dormer, i. . dyche, i. . e. eddowes, i. . effingham, ii. . elderton, i. . ellis, i. . ii. . erasmus, ii. . esch, i. . everard, ii. . f. fabri, ii. . farinelli, ii. , . farquhar, ii. . faustina, ii. . feast, i. . fielding, i. , , , , , . figg, ii. . fitzgerald, i. . fleetwood, ii. . foote, ii. . fothergill, i. . francis, ii. . freeman, ii. . fuller, ii. . g. gage, i. . gallini, ii. . garrick, ii. . garth, ii. . gibson, ii. . giffard, ii. . giles, i. . godfrey, ii. . godolphin, i. . goodman, i. . gordon, ii. . gough, ii. . goulding, i. . grafton, i. . ii. . grainger, ii. . green, i. . ii. . grosley, i. . guy, i. . h. haddock, i. . hamilton, i. . handel, i. . ii. , , , . harley, ii. . harper, ii. , . harris, ii. , . harvey, ii. . hawes, i. , . ii. . hawley, i. . heath, i. . heidegger, ii. . henley, i. - . hertford, ii. . herwig, i. . hewit, ii. . higginson, i. . hightrehight, ii. . hill, i. . ii. , . holford, i. . holland, ii. . holmes, ii. . howard, i. , . hyfield, ii. . i. inchinbroke, ii. . j. jackson, ii. . jacobs, i. . jacobson, i. . jennings, i. . johnston, i. . jones, i. , . ii. . k. kemble, ii. . kenrick, ii. . kilmanseck, i. . ii. . king, i. . ii. . kingston, ii. . l. lambert, ii. . law, i. , . lee, i. . ii. . lewis, i. . lillie, i. . litchfield, i. , . m. macdonald, i. . macklin, ii. , , . macky, i. . maclane, ii. . mahomet, i. . mapp, i. . marlborough, i. . martin, i. . masterson, ii. . mead, i. , . meadows, ii. . mercer, i. . merighi, ii. . miller, ii. . mills, ii. . milner, i. , . milton, i. . mist, i. . montague, ii. . moody, ii. . morrisco, i. . mossop, ii. . n. neale, i. . neild, i. . nelson, i. . newall, i. . newcastle, i. , . ii. . nicolini, ii. . o. oades, i. . odell, ii. , . orkney, i. . p. palmer, i. . ii. . park, ii. . parker, i. . parsons, i. . paterson, i. . pattent, i. . pechy, i. . pelham, i. . penkethman, ii. , . percy, i. . pigeon, i. . philips, i. . pinder, i. . pingo, i. . porter, i. . potter, ii. . powel, ii. , . preston, ii. . puckeridge, ii. . q. quare, i. . queensberry, ii. . r. railton, i. . rainsforth, i. . reddish, ii. . rice, i. . rich, ii. , , , . riddle, i. . robinson, i. . rutherford, ii. , . s. sacheverell, i. . ii. , . saltero, i. . salvandoni, ii. . sayer, i. . saxe, i. . selby, ii. . senesino, ii. . sheppard, ii. , . sheridan, ii. . shower, ii. . simmonds, i. . smith, i. , , . southwell, i. . sparks, ii. . spencer, i. . stanton, i. . steele, i. . ii. , . stephens, i. . ii. . stokes, ii. , . strada, ii. . stringer, i. . surman, i. . sutton, i. . ii. . switterda, i. . sydenham, i. . t. talbot, ii. . taylor, i. . thanet, i. . thomas, ii. , . thornhill, i. , . thurmond, ii. . tillard, i. . townshend, i. . tutchin, ii. . turlington, i. . turner, i. . v. vane, i. . vaneschi, ii. . veil, de, i. . ii. . w. wachsel, i. , , . wale, ii. . wallin, i. . walpole, ii. . war, de la, i. . ward, i. , . watkinson, i. . waugh, i. . weedon, i. . welch, i. . ii. . wells, ii. . welton, ii. . west, ii. . wharton, i. . white, i. . whitrow, ii. . whitworth, i. . wild, ii. . wilkes, i. . ii. , . wilkinson, ii. , . wilks, ii. , . williams, i. . ii. . wilson, ii. . winstanley, i. . ii. . wolsey, ii. . woodward, i. . wren, ii. . y. young, ii. . end of the first volume. john nichols and son, printers, red lion passage, fleet street, london. transcriber's notes the index was originally printed at the end of volume ii. it has been included in this volume for completeness. variations in spelling and hyphenation have been left as in the original. the use of apostrophes to indicate possessive case is not consistent in the original. the placement of quotation marks is not consistent in the original. apostrophes and quotation marks have been left as in the original except where noted below. the following corrections have been made to the original text: page xiii: vary with the internal feelings,'[quotation mark missing in original] page xv: exhibiting any proofs on this occasion[original has "ocasion"] page xx: requires notice as much as their peculiarities[original has "pecularities"] page : collection for the chapel amounted to _l._[period missing in original] page : and advantageous to the publick[original has "pub" and "lick" on separate lines without a hyphen] page : as to their improvements of[original has "of of"] every sort page : at the same time[original has "time time"] crying out page : [quotation mark missing in original]" persons discharged, together with wives page : disgraced the annals of turpitude.[original has ".."] page : [original has extraneous quotation mark]sir john fielding, being asked what number page : rather by sufferance than[original has "that"] by right page : lord steward of the king's household[original has "houshold"] page : acknowledged to have been a superb spectacle[original has "spectable"] page : advice to parents and masters previous[original has "previ" and "ous" on separate lines without a hyphen] to the holidays page : we sit till six, then[original has "that"] we go to the play page : women with inflaming liquids:[original has a period] page : _john paterson_."[quotation mark missing in original] page : ditto[original has heading "dishes" carried over from previous page] fine green peas page : our drinking-houses are refined:[original has a period] they no longer page : 'this is not the punch-bowl inn.'"[double quote missing in original] page : neglect of other duties,[original has a period] and it behoves page : eight feet, but[original has "hut"] did not break page : crowd having soon surrounded[original has "surrouded"] him page : eccentricity may[original has "my"] exist in the brain on page , the original has "with _paternal candour_ every plea [large white space] we have to offer". the transcriber has been unable to locate a copy of the book that has a word or words in the space. produced from images generously made available by the internet archive.) the old showmen, and the old london fairs. the old showmen, and the old london fairs. by thomas frost, author of "circus life and circus celebrities," etc. second edition. london: tinsley brothers, , catherine street, strand, . [_all rights reserved._] printed by taylor and co., little queen street, lincoln's inn field preface. popular amusements constitute so important a part of a nation's social history that no excuse need be offered for the production of the present volume. the story of the old london fairs has not been told before, and that of the almost extinct race of the old showmen is so inextricably interwoven with it that the most convenient way of telling either was to tell both. an endeavour has been made, therefore, to relate the rise, progress, and declension of the fairs formerly held in and about the metropolis as comprehensively and as thoroughly as the imperfect records of such institutions render possible; and to weave into the narrative all that is known of the personal history of the entertainers of the people who, from the earliest times to the period when the london fairs became things of the past, have set up shows in west smithfield, on the greens of southwark, stepney, and camberwell, and in the streets of greenwich and deptford. those who remember the fairs that were the last abolished, even in the days of their decline, will, it is thought, peruse with interest such fragments of the personal history of gyngell, scowton, saunders, richardson, wombwell, and other showmen of the last half century of the london fairs, to say nothing of the earlier generations of entertainers, as are brought together in the following pages. the materials for a work of this kind are not abundant. the notices of the fairs to be found in records of the earlier centuries of their history are slight, and more interesting to the antiquary than to the general reader. newspapers of the latter half of the seventeenth century, and the first half of the eighteenth, afford only advertisements of the amusements, and of the showmen of the former period we learn only the names. during the latter half of the last century, the showmen seldom advertised in the newspapers, and few of their bills have been preserved. no showman has ever written his memoirs, or kept a journal; and the biographers of actors who have trodden the portable stages of scowton and richardson in the early years of their professional career have failed to glean many incidents of their fair experiences. all that can be presented of the personal history of such men as gyngell, scowton, richardson, and wombwell, has been gathered from the few surviving members of the fraternity of showmen, and from persons who, at different periods, and in various ways, have been brought into association with them. if, therefore, no other merit should be found in the following pages, they will at least have been the means of preserving from oblivion all that is known of an almost extinct class of entertainers of the people. contents. page chapter i. origin of fairs--charter fairs at winchester and chester-- croydon fairs--fairs in the metropolis--origin of bartholomew fair--disputes between the priors and the corporation--the westminster fairs--southwark fair--stepney fair--ceremonies observed in opening fairs--walking the fair at wolverhampton--the key of the fair at croydon--proclamation of bartholomew fair chapter ii. amusements of the fairs in the middle ages--shows and showmen of the sixteenth century--banks and his learned horse-- bartholomew fair in the time of charles i.--punch and judy-- office of the revels--origin of hocus pocus--suppression of bartholomew fair--london shows during the protectorate--a turkish rope-dancer--barbara vanbeck, the bearded woman chapter iii. strolling players in the seventeenth century--southwark fair--bartholomew fair--pepys and the monkeys--polichinello-- jacob hall, the rope-dancer--another bearded woman-- richardson, the fire-eater--the cheshire dwarf--killigrew and the strollers--fair on the thames--the irish giant--a dutch rope-dancer--music booths--joseph clarke, the posturer-- william philips, the zany--william stokes, the vaulter--a show in threadneedle street chapter iv. attempts to suppress the shows at bartholomew fair--a remarkable dutch boy--theatrical booths at the london fairs-- penkethman, the comedian--may fair--barnes and finley--lady mary--doggett, the comedian--simpson, the vaulter--clench, the whistler--a show at charing cross--another performing horse--powell and crawley, the puppet-showmen--miles's music-booth--settle and mrs. mynn--southwark fair--mrs. horton, the actress--bullock and leigh--penkethman and pack-- boheme, the actor--suppression of may fair--woodward, the comedian--a female hercules--tiddy-dol, the gingerbread vendor chapter v. bartholomew fair theatricals--lee, the theatrical printer-- harper, the comedian--rayner and pullen--fielding, the novelist, a showman--cibber's booth--hippisley, the actor-- fire in bartholomew fair--fawkes, the conjuror--royal visit to fielding's booth--yeates, the showman--mrs. pritchard, the actress--southwark fair--tottenham court fair--ryan, the actor--hallam's booth--griffin, the actor--visit of the prince of wales to bartholomew fair--laguerre's booth-- heidegger--more theatrical booths--their suppression at bartholomew fair--hogarth at southwark fair--violante, the rope-dancer--cadman, the flying man chapter vi. a new race of showmen--yeates, the conjuror--the turkish rope-walker--pan and the oronutu savage--the corsican fairy-- perry's menagerie--the riobiscay and the double cow--a mermaid at the fairs--garrick at bartholomew fair--yates's theatrical booth--dwarfs and giants--the female samson--riots at bartholomew fair--ballard's animal comedians--evans, the wire-walker--southwark fair--wax-work show--shuter, the comedian--bisset, the animal trainer--powell, the fire-eater--roger smith, the bell-player--suppression of southwark fair chapter vii. yates and shuter--cat harris--mechanical singing birds-- lecture on heads--pidcock's menagerie--breslaw, the conjuror--reappearance of the corsican fairy--gaetano, the bird imitator--rossignol's performing birds--ambroise, the showman--brunn, the juggler, on the wire--riot at bartholomew fair--dancing serpents--flockton, the puppet-showman--royal visit to bartholomew fair--lane, the conjuror--hall's museum--o'brien, the irish giant--baker's theatre--joel tarvey and lewis owen, the popular clowns chapter viii. lady holland's mob--kelham whiteland, the dwarf--flockton, the conjuror and puppet-showman--wonderful rams--miss morgan, the dwarf--flockton's will--gyngell, the conjuror--jobson, the puppet-showman--abraham saunders--menageries of miles and polito--miss biffin--philip astley chapter ix. edmund kean--mystery of his parentage--saunders's circus-- scowton's theatre--belzoni--the nondescript--richardson's theatre--the carey family--kean, a circus performer--oxberry, the comedian--james wallack--last appearance of the irish giant--miss biffin and the earl of morton--bartholomew fair incidents--josephine girardelli, the female salamander--james england, the flying pieman--elliston as a showman--simon paap, the dutch dwarf--ballard's menagerie--a learned pig-- madame gobert, the athlete--cartlich, the original mazeppa-- barnes, the pantaloon--nelson lee--cooke's circus--the gyngell family chapter x. saker and the lees--richardson's theatre--wombwell, the menagerist--the lion fights at warwick--maughan, the showman--miss hipson, the fat girl--lydia walpole, the dwarf--the persian giant and the fair circassian--ball's theatre--atkins's menagerie--a mare with seven feet--hone's visit to richardson's theatre--samwell's theatre--clarke's circus--brown's theatre of arts--ballard's menagerie--toby, the learned pig--william whitehead, the fat boy--elizabeth stock, the giantess--chappell and pike's theatre--the spotted boy--wombwell's "bonassus"--gouffe, the man-monkey--de berar's phantasmagoria--scowton's theatre--death of richardson chapter xi. successors of scowton and richardson--nelson lee--crowther, the actor--paul herring--newman and allen's theatre--fair in hyde park--hilton's menagerie--bartholomew fair again threatened--wombwell's menagerie--charles freer--fox cooper and the bosjesmans--destruction of johnson and lee's theatre--reed's theatre--hales, the norfolk giant--affray at greenwich--death of wombwell--lion queens--catastrophe in a menagerie--world's fair at bayswater--abbott's theatre-- charlie keith, the clown--robson, the comedian--manders's menagerie--macomo, the lion-tamer--macarthy and the lions-- fairgrieve's menagerie--lorenzo and the tigress--sale of a menagerie--extinction of the london fairs--decline of fairs near the metropolis--conclusion the old showmen, and the old london fairs chapter i. origin of fairs--charter fairs at winchester and chester--croydon fairs--fairs in the metropolis--origin of bartholomew fair--disputes between the priors and the corporation--the westminster fairs--southwark fair--stepney fair--ceremonies observed in opening fairs--walking the fair at wolverhampton--the key of the fair at croydon--proclamation of bartholomew fair. there can be no doubt that the practice of holding annual fairs for the sale of various descriptions of merchandise is of very great antiquity. the necessity of periodical gatherings at certain places for the interchange of the various products of industry must have been felt as soon as our ancestors became sufficiently advanced in civilisation to desire articles which were not produced in every locality, and for which, owing to the sparseness of the scattered population, there was not a demand in any single town that would furnish the producers with an adequate inducement to limit their business to one place. most kinds of agricultural produce might be conveyed to the markets held every week in all the towns, and there disposed of; but there were some commodities, such as wool, for example, the entire production of which was confined to one period of the year, while the demand for many descriptions of manufactured goods in any one locality was not sufficient to enable a dealer in them to obtain a livelihood, unless he carried his wares from one town to another. what, therefore, the great fair of nishnei-novgorod is at the present day, the annual fairs of the english towns were, on a less extensive scale, during the middle ages. one of the most ancient, as well as the most important, of the fairs of this country was that held on st. giles's hill, near winchester. it was chartered by william i., who granted the tolls to his cousin, william walkelyn, bishop of winchester. its duration was originally limited to one day, but william ii. extended it to three days, henry i. to eight, stephen to fourteen, and henry ii. (according to milner, or henry iii., as some authorities say) to sixteen. portions of the tolls were, subsequently to the date of the first charter, assigned to the priory of st. swithin, the abbey of hyde, and the hospital of st. mary magdalene. on the eve of the festival of st. giles, on which day the fair commenced, the mayor and bailiffs of winchester surrendered the keys of the four gates of the city, and with them their privileges, to the officers of the bishop; and a court called the pavilion, composed of the bishop's justiciaries, was invested with authority to try all causes during the fair. the jurisdiction of this court extended seven miles in every direction from st. giles's hill, and collectors were placed at all the avenues to the fair to gather the tolls upon the merchandise taken there for sale. all wares offered for sale within this circle, except in the fair, were forfeit to the bishop; all the shops in the city were closed, and no business was transacted within the prescribed limits, otherwise than in the fair. it is probable, however, that most of the shopkeepers had stalls on the fair ground. this fair was attended by merchants from all parts of england, and even from france and flanders. streets were formed for the sale of different commodities, and distinguished by them, as the drapery, the pottery, the spicery, the stannary, etc. the neighbouring monasteries had also their respective stations, which they held under the bishop, and sometimes sublet for a term of years. milner says that the fair began to decline, as a place of resort for merchants, in the reign of henry vi., the stannary, that is, the street appointed for the sale of the products of the cornish mines, being unoccupied. from this period its decline seems to have been rapid, owing probably to the commercial development which followed the extinction of feudalism; though it continued to be an annual mart of considerable local importance down to the present century. the description of this fair will serve, in a great measure, for all the fairs of the middle ages. some of them were famous marts for certain descriptions of produce, as, for examples, abingdon and hemel hempstead for wool, newbury and royston for cheese, guildford and maidstone for hops, croydon and kingston summer fairs for cherries; others for manufactured goods of particular kinds, as st. bartholomew's, in the metropolis, for cloth (hence the local name of cloth fair), and buntingford for hardwares. more usually, the fair was an annual market, to which the farmers of the district took their cattle, and the merchants of the great towns their woollen and linen goods, their hardwares and earthenwares, and the silks, laces, furs, spices, etc., which they imported from the continent. these, as at winchester, were arranged in streets of booths, fringed with the stalls of the pedlars and the purveyors of refreshments, for the humbler frequenters of the fair. the farmers, the merchants, and the customers of both, resorted to the more commodious and better-provided tents, in which, as lydgate wrote of eastcheap in the fifteenth century, "one cried ribs of beef, and many a pie; pewter pots they clattered on a heap; there was harp, pipe, and minstrelsy." of equal antiquity with the great fair at winchester were the chester fairs, held on the festivals of st. john and st. werburgh, the tolls of which were granted to the abbey of st. werburgh by hugh lupus, second earl of chester and nephew of william i. there was a curious provision in this grant, that thieves and other offenders should enjoy immunity from arrest within the city during the three days that the fair lasted. frequent disputes arose out of this grant between the abbots of st. werburgh and the mayor and corporation of the city. in the reign of edward iv., the abbot claimed to have the fair of st. john held before the gates of the abbey, and that no goods should be exposed for sale elsewhere during the fair; while the mayor and corporation contended for the right of the citizens to sell their goods as usual, anywhere within the city. the citizens carried the point in their favour, and the abbot was induced to agree that the houses belonging to the abbey in the neighbourhood of the fair should not be let for the display of goods until those of the citizens were occupied for that purpose. disputes between the abbey and the city concerning the fair of st. werburgh continued until , when, by an award of sir charles booth, the abbey was deprived of its interest in that fair. croydon fair dated from , when the interest of archbishop kilwardby obtained for the town the right of holding a fair during nine days, beginning on the vigil of st. botolph, that is, on the th of may. in , archbishop reynolds obtained for the town a similar grant for a fair on the vigil and morrow of st. matthew's day; and in , archbishop stratford obtained a grant of a fair on the feast of st. john the baptist. the earliest of these fairs was the first to sink into insignificance; but the others survived to a very recent period in the sheep and cattle fair, held in latter times on the nd of october and the two following days, and the cherry fair, held on the th of july and the two following days. whatever may have been the relative importance of these fairs in former times, the former, though held at the least genial season, was, for at least a century before it was discontinued, the most considerable fair in the neighbourhood of the metropolis; while the july fair lost the advantage of being held in the summer, through the contracted limits within which its component parts were pitched. these were the streets between high street and surrey street, and included the latter, formerly called butcher row; and the only space large enough for anything of dimensions exceeding those of a stall for the sale of toys or gingerbread, was that at the back of the corn market, on which the cattle-market was formerly held. the first fair established in the metropolis was that which, originally held within the precincts of the priory of st. bartholomew, soon grew beyond its original limits, and at length came to be held on the spacious area of west smithfield. the origin of the fair is not related by maitland, entick, northouck, and other historians of the metropolis, who seem to have thought a fair too light a matter for their grave consideration; and more recent writers, who have made it the subject of special research, do not agree in their accounts of it. according to the report made by the city solicitor to the markets committee in , "at the earliest periods in which history makes mention of this subject, there were two fairs, or markets, held on the spot where bartholomew fair is now held, or in its immediate vicinity. these two fairs were originally held for two entire days only, the fairs being proclaimed on the eve of st. bartholomew, and continued during the day of st. bartholomew and the next morrow; both these fairs, or markets, were instituted for the purposes of trade; one of them was granted to the prior of the convent of st. bartholomew, 'and was kept for the clothiers of england, and drapers of london, who had their booths and standings within the churchyard of the priory, closed in with walls and gates, and locked every night, and watched, for the safety of their goods and wares.' the other was granted to the city of london, and consisted of the standing of cattle, and stands and booths for goods, with pickage and stallage, and tolls and profits appertaining to fairs and markets in the field of west smithfield." nearly twenty years after this report was made, and when the fair had ceased to exist, mr. henry morley, searching among the guildhall archives for information on the subject, found that the fair originated at an earlier date than had hitherto been supposed; and that the original charter was granted by henry i. in to prior rayer, by whom the monastery of st. bartholomew was founded. rayer whose name was latinised into raherus, and has been anglicised by modern writers into rahere, was originally the king's jester, and a great favourite of his royal master, who, on his becoming an augustine monk, and, founding the priory of st. bartholomew, rewarded him with the grant of the rents and tolls arising out of the fair for the benefit of the brotherhood. the prior was so zealous for the good of the monastery that, perhaps also because he retained a hankering after the business of his former profession, he is said to have annually gone into the fair, and exhibited his skill as a juggler, giving the largesses which he received from the spectators to the treasury of the convent. it was admitted by the report of that documents in the office of the city solicitor afforded evidence of conflicting opinions on the subject in former times; and it seems probable that the belief in the two charters attributed to henry ii. and the dual character of the fair had its origin in the disputes which arose from time to time, during the thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries, between the civic and monastic authorities as to the right to the tolls payable on goods carried into that portion of the fair which was held in smithfield, beyond the precincts of the priory. the latter claimed these, on the ground of the grant of the fair; the city claimed them, on the ground that the land belonged to the corporation. the dispute was a natural one, whether henry ii. had granted the smithfield tolls to the city or not; and there is evidence on record that it arose again and again, until the dissolution of monasteries at the reformation finally settled it by disposing of one of the parties. in a dispute arose between the prior of st. bartholomew's and ralph sandwich, custos of the city, the former maintaining that, as the privileges of the city had become forfeited to the crown, the tolls of the fair should be paid into the exchequer. edward i., who was then at durham, ordered that the matter should be referred to his treasurer and the barons of the exchequer; but, while the matter was pending, the disputants grew so warm that the city authorities arrested some of the monks, and confined them in the tun prison, in cornhill. they were released by command of the king, but thereupon nine citizens forced the tun, and released all the other prisoners, by way of resenting the royal interference. the rioters were imprisoned in their turn and a fine of twenty thousand marks was imposed upon the city; but the civic authorities proposed a compromise, and, for a further payment of three thousand marks, edward consented to pardon the offenders, and to restore and confirm the privileges of the city. the right of the city to the rents and tolls of the portion of the fair held beyond the precincts of the priory was finally decided in , when the court of aldermen appointed four persons as keepers of the fair, and of the court of pie-powder, a tribunal instituted for the summary settlement of all disputes arising in the fair, and deriving its name, it is supposed, from _pieds poudres_, because the litigants had their causes tried with the dust of the fair on their feet. at the dissolution of monasteries, in the reign of henry viii., the tolls which had been payable to the priory of st. bartholomew were sold to sir john rich, then attorney-general; and the right to hold the fair was held by his descendants until , when it was purchased of lord kensington by the corporation of london, and held thereafter by the city chamberlain and the town clerk in trust, thus vesting the rights and interests in both fairs in the same body. westminster fair, locally termed magdalen's, was established in , by a charter granted by henry iii. to the abbot and canons of st. peter's, and was held on tothill fields, the site of which is now covered by the westminster house of correction and some neighbouring streets. the three days to which it was originally limited, were extended by edward iii. to thirty-one; but the fair was never so well attended as st. bartholomew's, and fell into disuse soon afterwards. there was another fair held in the adjoining parish of st. james, the following amusing notice of which in machyn's diary is the earliest i have been able to find:-- "the xxv. day of june [ ], saint james fayer by westminster was so great that a man could not have a pygg for money; and the bear wiffes had nother meate nor drink before iiij of cloke in the same day. and the chese went very well away for _d._ _q._ the pounde. besides the great and mighti armie of beggares and bandes that were there." beyond the fact that it was postponed in on account of the plague, nothing more is recorded concerning this fair until , in which year it was suppressed, "as considered to tend rather to the advantage of looseness and irregularity than to the substantial promoting of any good, common and beneficial to the people." southwark fair, locally known as lady fair, was established in by a charter granted by edward iv. to the city of london, in the following terms:-- "we have also granted to the said mayor, commonalty, and citizens, and their successors for ever, that they shall and may have yearly one fair in the town aforesaid, for three days, that is to say, the th, th, th days of september, to be holden, together with a court of pie-powders, and with all the liberties to such fairs appertaining: and that they may have and hold there at their said courts, before their said minister or deputy, during the said three days, from day to day, hour to hour, and from time to time, all occasions, plaints, and pleas of a court of pie-powders, together with all summons, attachments, arrests, issues, fines, redemptions, and commodities, and other rights whatsoever, to the said court of pie-powders in any way pertaining, without any impediment, let, or hindrance of us, our heirs or successors, or other our officers and ministers soever." this charter has sometimes been referred to as granting to the corporation the right to hold a fair in west smithfield, in addition to the fair the tolls of which were received by the priory of st. bartholomew; but that "the town aforesaid" was southwark is shown by a previous clause, in which it is stated that "to take away from henceforth and utterly to abolish all and all manner of causes, occasions, and matters whereupon opinions, ambiguities, varieties, controversies, and discussions may arise," the king "granted to the said mayor and commonalty of the said city who now be, and their successors, the mayor and commonalty and citizens of that city for the time being and for ever, the town of southwark, with its appurtenances." the origin of camberwell fair is lost in the mist of ages. in the evidence adduced before a petty sessions held at union hall in , on the subject of its suppression, it was said that the custom of holding it was mentioned in the 'domesday book,' but the statement seems to have been made upon insufficient grounds. it commenced on the th of august, and continued three weeks, ending on st. giles's day; but, in modern times, was limited, like most other fairs, to three days. it seems to have been originally held in the parish churchyard, but this practice was terminated by a clause in the statute of winchester, passed in the thirteenth year of the reign of edward i. it was then removed to the green, where it was held until its suppression. peckham fair seems to have been irregular, and merely supplementary to camberwell fair. stepney fair was of less ancient date. in charles ii., at the instance of the earl of cleveland, then lord of the manor of stepney, granted a patent for a weekly market at ratcliff cross, and an annual fair on michaelmas day at mile end green, or any other places within the manor of stepney. the keeping of the market and fair, with all the revenues arising from tolls, etc., was given by the same grant, at the earl of cleveland's request, to sir william smith and his heirs for ever. the right continued to vest in the baronet's descendants for several years, but long before the suppression of the fair it passed to the lord of the manor, which, in , was sold by the representatives of lady wentworth to john wicker, esquire, of horsham, in sussex, whose son alienated it in . it is now possessed by the colebrooke family. the ceremonies observed in opening fairs evince the importance which attached to them. on the eve of the "great fair" of wolverhampton, held on the th of july, there was a procession of men in armour, preceded by musicians playing what was known as the "fair tune," and followed by the steward of the deanery manor and the peace-officers of the town. the custom is said to have originated with the fair, when wolverhampton was as famous as a mart of the wool trade as it now is for its ironmongery, and merchants resorted to the fair, which formerly lasted fourteen days, from all parts of england. the necessity of an armed force for the maintenance of order during the fair in those days is not improbable. this custom of "walking the fair," as it was called, was discontinued in , and has not since been revived. the october fair at croydon was opened as soon as midnight had sounded by the town clock, or, in earlier times, by that of the parish church; the ceremony consisting in the carrying of a key, called "the key of the fair," through its principal avenues. the booth-keepers were then at liberty to serve refreshments to such customers as might present themselves, generally the idlers who followed the bearer of the key; and long before daylight the field resounded with the bleating of sheep, the lowing of cattle, the barking of dogs, and the shouting of shepherds and drovers. the metropolitan fair of st. bartholomew was opened by a proclamation, which used to be read at the gate leading into cloth fair by the lord mayor's attorney, and repeated after him by a sheriff's officer, in the presence of the lord mayor, aldermen, and sheriffs. the procession then perambulated smithfield, and returned to the mansion house, where, in the afternoon, those of his lordship's household dined together at the swordbearer's table, and so concluded the ceremony. chapter ii. amusements of the fairs in the middle ages--shows and showmen of the sixteenth century--banks and his learned horse--bartholomew fair in the time of charles i.--punch and judy--office of the revels--origin of hocus pocus--suppression of bartholomew fair--london shows during the protectorate--a turkish rope-dancer--barbara vanbeck, the bearded woman. numerous illuminations of manuscripts in the harleian collection, many of which were reproduced in strutt's work on the sports and pastimes of the english people, having established the fact that itinerant professors of the art of amusing were in the habit of tramping from town to town, and village to village, for at least two centuries before the norman conquest of this country, there can be no doubt that the fairs were so many foci of attraction for them at the times when they were respectively held. as we are told that the minstrels and glee-men flocked to the towns and villages which grew up under the protection of the baronial castles when the marriage of the lord, or the coming of age of the heir, furnished an occasion of popular revelry, and also when the many red-letter days of the mediæval calendar came round, we may be sure that they were not absent from bartlemy fair even in its earliest years. glee-men was a term which included dancers, posturers, jugglers, tumblers, and exhibitors of trained performing monkeys and quadrupeds; and, the masculine including the feminine in this case, many of these performers were women and girls. the illuminations which have been referred to, and which constitute our chief authority as to the amusements of the fairs during the middle ages, introduce us to female posturers and tumblers, in the act of performing the various feats which have been the stock in trade of the acrobatic profession down to the present day. the jugglers exhibited the same feats with balls and knives as their representatives of the nineteenth century; what is professionally designated "the shower," in which the balls succeed each other rapidly, while describing a semi-circle from right to left, is shown in one of the harleian illuminations. balancing feats were also exhibited, and in one of these curious illustrations of the sights which delighted our fair-going ancestors, the balancing of a cart-wheel is represented--a trick which might have been witnessed not many years ago in the streets of london, the performer being an elderly negro, said to have been the father of the well-known rope-dancer, george christoff, who represented the pompeian performer on the _corde elastique_, when mr. oxenford's version of _the last days of pompeii_ was produced at the queen's theatre. performing monkeys, bears, and horses appear in many of the mediæval illuminations, and were probably as popular agents of public amusement in the earliest years of bartlemy fair as they can be shown, from other authorities, to have been in the sixteenth century. that monkeys were imported rather numerously for the amusement of the public, may be inferred from the fact of some chancellor of the exchequer of the middle ages having subjected them to an import duty. their agility was displayed chiefly in vaulting over a chain or cord. bears were taught to feign death, and to walk erect after their leader, who played some musical instrument. horses were also taught to walk on their hind legs, and one drawing in the harleian collection shows a horse in this attitude, engaged in a mimic fight with a man armed with sword and buckler. all these performances seem to have been continued, by successive generations of performers, down to the time of elizabeth. reginald scot, writing in , gives a lengthy enumeration of the tricks of the jugglers who frequented the fairs of the latter part of the sixteenth century. among them are most of the common tricks of the present day, and not the least remarkable is the decapitation feat, which many of my readers have probably seen performed by the famous wizards of modern times at the egyptian hall. three hundred years ago, it was called the decollation of st. john the baptist, and was performed upon a table, upon which stood a dish to receive the head. the table, the dish, and the knife used in the apparent decapitation were all contrived for the purpose, the table having two holes in it, one to enable the assistant who submitted to the operation to conceal his head, the other, corresponding to a hole in the dish, to receive the head of another confederate, who was concealed beneath the table, in a sitting position; while the knife had a semi-circular opening in the blade to fit the neck. another knife, of the ordinary kind, was shown to the spectators, who were prevented by a sleight of hand trick from observing the substitution for it of the knife used in the trick. the engraving in malcolm's work shows the man to be operated upon lying upon the table, apparently headless, while the head of the other assistant appears in the dish. that _lusus naturæ_, and other natural curiosities, had begun to be exhibited by showmen in the reign of elizabeth, may be inferred from the allusions to such exhibitions in _the tempest_, when caliban is discovered, and the mariners speculate upon his place in the scale of animal being. it seems also that the practice of displaying in front of the shows large pictures of the wonderful feats, or curious natural objects, to be seen within, prevailed in the sixteenth century, and probably long before; for it is distinctly alluded to in a passage in jonson's play of _the alchymist_, in which the master of the servant who has filled the house with searchers for the philosopher's stone, says, "what should my knave advance to draw this company? he hung out no banners of a strange calf with five legs to be seen, or a huge lobster with six claws." some further glimpses of the bartlemy fair shows of the elizabethan period are afforded in the induction or prologue to another play of jonson's, namely, the comedy of _bartholomew fair_, acted in . "he," says the dramatist, speaking of himself, "has ne'er a sword and buckler-man in his fair; nor a juggler with a well-educated ape to come over the chain for the king of england, and back again for the prince, and sit still on his haunches for the pope and the king of spain." the sword and buckler-man probably means a performer who took part in such a mimic combat of man and horse, as is represented in the illumination which has been referred to. the monkey whose protestant proclivities are noted in the latter part of the passage is mentioned in a poem of davenant's, presently to be quoted. we cannot suppose absent from the metropolitan fairs the celebrated performing horse, morocco, and his instructor, of whom sir walter raleigh says, "if banks had lived in older times, he would have shamed all the enchanters in the world; for whosoever was most famous among them could never master or instruct any beast as he did." that shakspeare witnessed the performances of morocco, which combined arithmetical calculations with saltatory exercises, is shown by the allusion in _love's labour lost_, when moth puzzles armado with arithmetical questions, and says, "the dancing horse will tell you." sir kenelm digby states that the animal "would restore a glove to the due owner after the master had whispered the man's name in his ear; and would tell the just number of pence in any piece of silver coin newly showed him by his master." banks quitted england for the continent with his horse in , and de melleray, who witnessed the performance of the animal in the rue st. jacques, in paris, says that morocco could not only tell the number of francs in a crown, but knew that the crown was depreciated at that time, and knew the exact amount of the depreciation. from paris, banks travelled with his learned horse to orleans, where the fame which they had acquired brought him under the imputation of being a sorcerer, and he had a narrow escape of being burned at a stake in that character. bishop morton says that he cleared himself by commanding his horse to "seek out one in the press of the people who had a crucifix on his hat; which done, he bade him kneel down unto it, and not this only, but also to rise up again, and to kiss it. 'and now, gentlemen,' (quoth he), 'i think my horse hath acquitted both me and himself;' and so his adversaries rested satisfied; conceiving (as it might seem) that the devil had no power to come near the cross." we next hear of banks and his horse at frankfort-on-the-maine, where bishop morton saw them, and heard from the former the story of his narrow escape at orleans. their further wanderings cannot be traced; and, though it has been inferred, from a passage in a burlesque poem by jonson, that banks was burned as a sorcerer, the grounds which the poet had for assigning such a dreadful end for the famous horse-charmer are unknown, and may have been no more than an imperfect recollection of what he had heard of the orleans story. a hare which played the tabor is alluded to by jonson in the comedy before mentioned; and this performance also was not unknown to earlier times, one of the illuminations copied by strutt showing it to have been exhibited in the fifteenth century. when jonson wrote his comedy, the amusing classes, encouraged by popular favour, were raising their heads again, after the sore discouragement of the vagrancy act of elizabeth's reign, which scheduled jugglers and minstrels with strolling thieves, gipsy fortune-tellers, and itinerant beggars. elizabeth's tastes seem to have inclined more to bull-baiting and bear-baiting than to dancing and minstrelsy, juggling and tumbling; and, besides this, there was a broad line drawn in those days, and even down to the reign of george iii., as will be hereafter noticed, between the upper ten thousand and the masses, as to the amusements which might or ought to be permitted to the former and denied to the latter. in the succeeding reign the operation of the vagrancy act was powerfully aided by the rise of the puritans, who regarded all amusements as worldly vanities and snares of the evil one, and indulgence in them as a coquetting with sin. as yet they lacked the power to suppress the fairs and close the theatres, though their will was good to whip and imprison all such inciters to sin and agents of satan as they conceived minstrels, actors, and showmen to be; and bartholomew fair showed no diminution of popular patronage even in the reign of charles i. "hither," says the author of a scarce pamphlet, printed in , "resort people of all sorts and conditions. christchurch cloisters are now hung full of pictures. it is remarkable, and worth your observation, to behold and hear the strange sights and confused sounds in the fair. here, a knave in a fool's coat, with a trumpet sounding, or on a drum beating, invites you to see his puppets. there, a rogue like a wild woodman, or in an antic shape like an incubus, desires your company to view his motion; on the other side, hocus pocus, with three yards of tape or ribbon in his hand, showing his art of legerdemain, to the admiration and astonishment of a company of cockoloaches. amongst these, you shall see a gray goosecap (as wise as the rest), with a 'what do ye lack?' in his mouth, stand in his booth shaking a rattle, or scraping on a fiddle, with which children are so taken, that they presently cry out for these fopperies: and all these together make such a distracted noise, that you would think babel were not comparable to it. "here there are also your gamesters in action: some turning of a whimsey, others throwing for pewter, who can quickly dissolve a round shilling into a three-halfpenny saucer. long lane at this time looks very fair, and puts out her best clothes, with the wrong side outward, so turned for their better turning off; and cloth fair is now in great request: well fare the ale-houses therein, yet better may a man fare (but at a dearer rate) in the pig-market, alias pasty-nook, or pie-corner, where pigs are all hours of the day on the stalls, piping hot, and would cry, (if they could speak,) 'come, eat me!'" the puppets and "motions" alluded to in the foregoing description were beginning to be a very favourite spectacle, and none of the puppet plays of the period were more popular than the serio-comic drama of _punch and judy_, attributed to silvio florillo, an italian comic dramatist of the time. according to the original version of the story, which has undergone various changes, some of which have been made within the memory of the existing generation, punch, in a paroxysm of jealousy, destroys his infant child, upon which judy, in revenge, belabours him with a cudgel. the exasperated hunchback seizes another stick, beats his wife to death, and throws from the window the two corpses, which attracts the notice of a constable, who enters the house to arrest the murderer. punch flies, but is arrested by an officer of the inquisition, and lodged in prison; but contrives to escape by bribing the gaoler. his subsequent encounters with a dog, a doctor, a skeleton, and a demon are said to be an allegory, intended to convey the triumph of humanity over ennui, disease, death, and the devil; but, as there is nothing allegorical in the former portion of the story, this seems doubtful. the allegory was soon lost sight of, if it was ever intended, and the latter part of the story has long been that which excites the most risibility. as usually represented in this country during the last fifty years, and probably for a much longer period, punch does not bribe the gaoler, but evades execution for his crimes by strangling the hangman with his own noose. who has not observed the delight, venting itself in screams of laughter, with which young and old witness the comical little wretch's fight with the constable, the wicked leer with which he induces the hangman to put his neck in the noose by way of instruction, and the impish chuckling in which he indulges while strangling his last victim? the crowd laughs at all this in the same spirit as the audience at a theatre applauds furiously while a policeman is bonneted and otherwise maltreated in a pantomime or burlesque. the tightness of the matrimonial noose, it is to be feared, materially influences the feeling with which the murder of a faithless wife is regarded by those whose poverty shuts out the prospect of divorce. and punch is such a droll, diverting vagabond, that even those who have witnessed his crimes are irresistibly seduced into laughter by his grotesque antics and his cynical bursts of merriment, which render him such a strange combination of the demon and the buffoon. the earliest notices of the representation in london of 'punch's moral drama,' as an old comic song calls it, occur in the overseer's books of st. martin's in the fields for and , in which are four entries of sums, ranging from twenty-two shillings and sixpence to fifty-two shillings and sixpence, as "rec. of punchinello, ye italian popet player, for his booth at charing cross." _hocus pocus_, used in the bartholomew fair pamphlet as a generic term for conjurors, is derived from the assumed name of one of the craft, of whom ady, in 'a candle in the dark,' wrote as follows:-- "i will speak of one man more excelling in that craft than others, that went about in king james's time, and long since, who called himself the king's majestie's most excellent hocus pocus; and so was he called because at playing every trick he used to say, _hocus pocus tontus talontus, vade celeriter jubeo_--a dark composition of words to blind the eyes of the beholders." all these professors of the various arts of popular entertainment had, at this period, to pay an annual licence duty to the master of the revels, whose office was created by henry viii. in . its jurisdiction extended over all wandering minstrels and every one who blew a trumpet publicly, except "the king's players." the seal of the office, used under five sovereigns, was engraved on wood, and was formerly in the possession of the late francis douce, by whose permission it was engraved for chalmers's 'apology for the believers in the shakspeare mss.,' and subsequently for smith's 'ancient topography of london.' the legend round it was, "sigill : offic : jocor : mascar : et revell : dnis reg." the long parliament abolished the office, which, indeed, would have been a sinecure under the puritan rule, for in the entertainers of the people were forbidden to exercise their vocation, the theatres were closed, the may-poles removed, and the fairs shorn of all their wonted amusements, and reduced to the status of annual markets. there is, in the library of the british museum, a doggrel ballad, printed as a broad-sheet, called _the dagonizing of bartholomew fair_, which describes, with coarse humour, the grossness of which may be attributed in part to the mingled resentment and contempt which underlies it, the measures taken by the civic authorities for the removal from the fair of the showmen who had pitched there, in spite of the determination of the lord mayor and the court of aldermen, to suppress with the utmost rigour everything which could move to laughter or minister to wonder. among these are mentioned a fire-eating conjuror, a "jack pudding," and "wonders made of wax," being the earliest notice of a wax-work exhibition which i have been able to discover. whether the itinerant traders who were wont to set up their stalls in the fairs of smithfield, and westminster, and southwark, found it worth their while to do so during the thirteen years of the banishment of shows, there is nothing to show; but we are not without evidence that the showmen were able to follow their vocation without the fairs. evelyn, who was a lover of strange sights, records in his diary that, in ,--"i saw a tame lion play familiarly with a lamb; he was a huge beast, and i thrust my hand into his mouth, and found his tongue rough, like a cat's; also a sheep with six legs, which made use of five of them to walk; and a goose that had four legs, two crops, and as many vents." three years later, two other entries are made, concerning shows which he witnessed. first we have, "june th. at greenwich i saw a sort of cat, brought from the east indies, shaped and snouted much like the egyptian racoon, in the body like a monkey, and so footed; the ears and tail like a cat, only the tail much longer, and the skin variously ringed with black and white; with the tail it wound up its body like a serpent, and so got up into trees, and with it wrap its whole body round. its hair was woolly like a lamb; it was exceedingly nimble, gentle, and purred as does the cat." this animal was probably a monkey of the species called by cuvier, the toque; it is a native of the western regions of india, and one of the most amusing, as well as the most common, of the simial tenants of modern menageries. "august th. going to london with some company, we stept in to see a famous rope-dancer, called _the turk_. i saw even to astonishment the agility with which he performed; he walked barefooted, taking hold by his toes only of a rope almost perpendicular, and without so much as touching it with his hands; he danced blindfold on the high rope, and with a boy of twelve years old tied to one of his feet about twenty feet beneath him, dangling as he danced, yet he moved as nimbly as if it had been but a feather. lastly he stood on his head, on the top of a very high mast, danced on a small rope that was very slack, and finally flew down the perpendicular on his breast, his head foremost, his legs and arms extended, with divers other activities. "i saw the hairy woman, twenty years old, whom i had before seen when a child. she was born at augsburg, in germany. her very eyebrows were combed upwards, and all her forehead as thick and even as grows on any woman's head, neatly dressed; a very long lock of hair out of each ear; she had also a most prolix beard, and moustachios, with long locks growing on the middle of her nose, like an iceland dog exactly, the colour of a bright brown, fine as well-dressed flax. she was now married, and told me she had one child that was not hairy, nor were any of her parents or relations. she was very well shaped, and played well on the harpsichord." this extraordinary creature must have been more than twenty years of age when evelyn saw her, for the engraved portrait described by granger bears the following inscription:--"barbara vanbeck, wife to michael vanbeck, born at augsburg, in high germany; daughter of balthasar and anne ursler. aged . a.d. . r. gaywood f. london." another engraved portrait, in the collection of the earl of bute, represents her playing the harpsichord, and has a dutch inscription, with the words--"isaac brunn delin. et sc. ." one of gaywood's prints, which, in granger's time, was in the possession of fredericks, the bookseller, at bath, had the following memorandum written under the inscription:--"this woman i saw in ratcliffe highway in , and was satisfied she was a woman. john bulfinch." granger describes her from the portraits, as follows:--"the face and hands of this woman are represented hairy all over. her aspect resembles that of a monkey. she has a very long and large spreading beard, the hair of which hangs loose and flowing like the hair of the head. she is playing on the organ. vanbeck married this frightful creature on purpose to carry her about for a show." chapter iii. strolling players in the seventeenth century--southwark fair--bartholomew fair--pepys and the monkeys--polichinello--jacob hall, the rope-dancer--another bearded woman--richardson, the fire-eater--the cheshire dwarf--killigrew and the strollers--fair on the thames--the irish giant--a dutch rope-dancer--music booths--joseph clark, the posturer--william philips, the zany--william stokes, the vaulter--a show in threadneedle street. the period of the protectorate was one of suffering and depression for the entertaining classes, who were driven into obscure taverns and back streets by the severity with which the anti-recreation edicts of the long parliament were enforced, and even then were in constant danger of bridewell and the whipping-post. performances took place occasionally at the red bull theatre, in st. john street, west smithfield, when the actors were able to bribe the subordinate officials at whitehall to connive at the infraction of the law; but sometimes the fact became known to some higher authority who had not been bribed, or whose connivance could not be procured, and then the performance was interrupted by a party of soldiers, and the actors marched off to bridewell, where they might esteem themselves fortunate if they escaped a whipping as well as a month's imprisonment as idle vagabonds. unable to exercise their vocation in london, the actors travelled into the country, and gave dramatic performances in barns and at fairs, in places where the rigour of the law was diminished, or the edicts rendered of no avail, by the magistrates' want of sympathy with the pleasure-abolishing mania, and the readiness of the majority of the inhabitants to assist at violations of the acts. in one of his wanderings about the country, cox, the comedian, shod a horse with so much dexterity, in the drama that was being represented, that the village blacksmith offered him employment in his forge at a rate of remuneration exceeding by a shilling a week the ordinary wages of the craft. the story is a good illustration of the realistic tendencies of the theatre two hundred years ago, especially as the practice which then prevailed of apprenticeship to the stage renders it improbable that cox had ever learned the art of shoeing a horse with a view to practising it as a craftsman. the provincial perambulations of actors did not, however, owe their beginning to the edicts of the long parliament, there being evidence that companies of strolling players existed contemporaneously with the theatres in which burbage played richard iii. and shakespeare the ghost in _hamlet_. in a prologue which was written for some london apprentices when they played _the hog hath lost his pearl_ in , their want of skill in acting and elocution is honestly admitted in the following lines-- "we are not half so skilled as strolling players, who could not please here as at country fairs." in the household book of the clifford family, quoted by dr. whitaker in his 'history of craven,' there is an entry in of the payment of one pound to "certain itinerant players," who seem to have given a private representation, for which they were thus munificently remunerated; and two years later, an entry occurs of the payment of the same amount to "a certain company of roguish players who represented _a new way to pay old debts_," the adjective being used, probably to distinguish this company, as being unlicensed or unrecognized, from the strolling players who had permission to call themselves by the name of some nobleman, and to wear his livery. the earl of leicester maintained such a company, and several other nobles of that period did the same, the actors being known as my lord leicester's company, or as the case might be, and being allowed to perform elsewhere when their services were not required by their patron. the depressed condition of actors at this period is amusingly illustrated by the story of griffin and goodman occupying the same chamber, and having but one decent shirt between them, which they wore in turn,--a destitution of linen surpassed only by that which is said to have characterised the ragged regiment of sir john falstaff, who had only half a shirt among them all. the single shirt of the two actors was the occasion of a quarrel and a separation between them, one of the twain having worn it out of his turn, under the temptation of an assignation with a lady. what became of the shirt upon the separation of their respective interests in it, we are not told. the restoration of monarchy and the stuarts was followed immediately by the re-opening of the theatres and the resumption of the old popular amusements at fairs. actors held up their heads again; the showmen hung out their pictured cloths in smithfield and on the bowling green in southwark; the fiddlers and the ballad-singers re-appeared in the streets and in houses of public entertainment. charles ii. entered london, amidst the jubilations of the multitude, on the th of may, ; and on the th of september following, evelyn wrote in his diary as follows:-- "i saw in southwark, at st. margaret's fair, monkeys and apes dance, and do other feats of activity, on the high rope; they were gallantly clad _à la monde_, went upright, saluted the company, bowing and pulling off their hats; they saluted one another with as good a grace as if instructed by a dancing master; they turned heels over head with a basket having eggs in it, without breaking any; also, with lighted candles in their hands, and on their heads, without extinguishing them, and with vessels of water without spilling a drop. i also saw an italian wench dance and perform all the tricks on the high rope to admiration; all the court went to see her. likewise, here was a man who took up a piece of iron cannon of about lb. weight with the hair of his head only." evelyn and pepys have left no record of the presence of shows at bartholomew fair in the first year of the restoration, nor does the collection of bartholomew fair _notabilia_ in the library of the british museum furnish any indication of them; but pepys tells us that on the st of august, in the following year, he went "to bartholomew fair, and there met with my ladies jemima and paulina, with mr. pickering and mademoiselle, at seeing the monkeys dance, which was much to see, when they could be brought to do it, but it troubled me to sit among such nasty company." few years seem to have passed without a visit to bartholomew fair on the part of the gossiping old diarist. in he writes, under date the th of september, "to bartholomew fair, where i met mr. pickering, and he and i went to see the monkeys at the dutch house, which is far beyond the other that my wife and i saw the other day; and thence to see the dancing on the ropes, which was very poor and tedious." in the following year two visits to this fair are recorded in pepys' diary, as follows:-- "sept. . to bartholomew fair, and our boy with us, and there showed him the dancing on ropes, and several others the best shows." "sept. . with creed walked to bartholomew fair,--this being the last day, and there i saw the best dancing on ropes that i think i ever saw in my life." in the two following years the fairs and other amusements of london were interrupted by the plague, to the serious loss and detriment of the entertaining classes. punch and other puppets were the only amusements of and ; and pepys records that, on the nd of august in the latter year--the year of the great fire,--he and his wife went in a coach to moorfields, "and there saw polichinello, which pleases me mightily." in the fear of the plague had passed away, and the public again patronised the theatres and other places of amusement. "to polichinello," writes pepys on the th of april, "and there had three times more sport than at the play, and so home." to compensate himself for having missed bartholomew fair two years running on account of the plague, he now went three times. "went twice round bartholomew fair," he writes in his diary on the th of august, "which i was glad to see again, after two years missing it by the plague." " th. to bartholomew fair, to walk up and down, and there, among other things, found my lady castlemaine at a puppet-play, _patient grizill_, and the street full of people expecting her coming out." "sept. . with my wife and mr. hewer to bartholomew fair, and there saw polichinello." the fair probably offered better and more various amusements every year, for pepys records five visits in , when we first hear of the celebrated rope-dancer, jacob hall. "august . with my wife and w. batelier and deb.; carried them to bartholomew fair, where we saw the dancing of the ropes, and nothing else, it being late." " . met my wife in a coach, and took her and mercer [her maid] and deb. to bartholomew fair; and there did see a ridiculous obscene little stage-play called _marry andrey_ [merry andrew], a foolish thing, but seen by everybody: and so to jacob hall's dancing of the ropes, a thing worth seeing, and mightily followed." "sept. . to bartholomew fair, and there saw several sights; among others, the mare that tells money and many things to admiration, and among others come to me, when she was bid to go to him of the company that most loved to kiss a pretty wench in a corner. and this did cost me _d._ to the horse, which i had flung him before, and did give me occasion to kiss a mighty _belle fille_, that was exceeding plain, but _fort belle_." " . at noon my wife, and deb. and mercer, and w. hewer and i, to the fair, and there at the old house, did eat a pig, and was pretty merry, but saw no sights, my wife having a mind to see the play of _bartholomew fair_ with puppets." " . with my lord brouncker (who was this day in unusual manner merry, i believe with drink,) minnes, and w. pen to bartholomew fair; and there saw the dancing mare again, which to-day i found to act much worse than the other day, she forgetting many things, which her master beat her for, and was mightily vexed; and then the dancing of the ropes, and also a little stage play, which was very ridiculous." perhaps a better illustration of the difference between the manners and amusements of the seventeenth century and those of the nineteenth could not be found than that which is afforded by the contrast between the picture drawn by pepys and the fancy sketch which the reader may draw for himself by giving the figures introduced the names of persons now living. let the scene be greenwich fair, as we all remember it, and the incidents the secretary to the admiralty, accompanied by his wife and her maid, going there in his carriage; stopping on the way to witness the vagaries of punch; meeting the mistress of the robes at a marionette performance in a tent; and afterwards, as we shall presently find pepys doing, drinking in a public-house with a rope-dancer, reputed to be the paramour of a lady of rank, whom our supposed secretary may have met the evening before at buckingham palace. pepys relates that he went, in the same year, "to southwark fair, very dirty, and there saw the puppet-show of whittington, which was pretty to see; and how that idle thing do work upon people that see it, and even myself too! and thence to jacob hall's dancing of the ropes, where i saw such action as i never saw before, and mightily worth seeing; and here took acquaintance with a fellow that carried me to a tavern, whither come the music of this booth, and bye and bye jacob hall himself, with whom i had a mind to speak, to hear whether he had ever any mischief by falls in his time. he told me, 'yes, many, but never to the breaking of a limb;' he seems a mighty strong man. so giving them a bottle or two of wine, i away with payne, the waterman. he, seeking me at the play, did get a link to light me, and so light me to the bear, where bland, my waterman, waited for me with gold and other things he kept for me, to the value of £ and more, which i had about me, for fear of my pockets being cut. so by link-light through the bridge, it being mighty dark, but still weather, and so home." jacob hall was as famous for his handsome face and symmetrical form as for his skill and grace on the rope. he is said to have shared with harte, the actor, the favours of nell gwynne, and afterwards to have been a pensioned favourite of the profligate countess of castlemaine. his portrait in grammont's 'memoirs' was engraved from an unnamed picture by van oost, first said to represent the famous rope-dancer by ames, in . a passage in one of davenant's poems affords some information concerning the character of the shows which formed the attraction of the fairs at this period, "now vaulter good, and dancing lass on rope, and man that cries, hey, pass! and tumbler young that needs but stoop, lay head to heel, to creep through hoop; and man in chimney hid to dress puppet that acts our old queen bess, and man that, while the puppets play, through nose expoundeth what they say; and white oat-eater that does dwell in stable small at sign of bell, that lifts up hoof to show the pranks taught by magician styled banks; and ape led captive still in chain till he renounce the pope and spain; all these on hoof now trudge from town, to cheat poor turnip-eating clown." the preceding chapter will have rendered the allusions intelligible to the reader of the present day. among the shows of this period was another bearded woman, whom pepys saw in holborn, towards the end of . "she is a little plain woman," he writes, "a dane; her name, ursula dyan; about forty years old; her voice like a little girl's; with a beard as much as any man i ever saw, black almost, and grizzly; it began to grow at about seven years old, and was shaved not above seven months ago, and is now so big as any man's almost that i ever saw; i say, bushy and thick. it was a strange sight to me, i confess, and what pleased me mightily." there was a female giant, too, of whom evelyn says, under date the th of february, , "i went to see a tall gigantic woman, who measured six feet ten inches at twenty-one years old, born in the low countries." salamandering feats are not so pleasant to witness as the performances of the acrobat and the gymnast, but they create wonder, and, probably, were wondered at more two hundred years ago than at the present time, when the scientific principles on which their success depends are better understood. the earliest performer of the feats which made girardelli and chabert famous half a century ago seems to have been richardson, of whom the following account is given by evelyn, who witnessed his performance in :-- "i took leave of my lady sunderland, who was going to paris to my lord, now ambassador there. she made me stay dinner at leicester house, and afterwards sent for richardson, the famous fire-eater. he devoured brimstone on glowing coals before us, chewing and swallowing them; he melted a beer-glass and eat it quite up; then, taking a live coal on his tongue, he put on it a raw oyster, the coal was blown on with bellows till it flamed and sparkled in his mouth, and so remained till the oyster gaped and was quite boiled. then he melted pitch and wax with sulphur, which he drank down as it flamed; i saw it flaming in his mouth, a good while; he also took up a thick piece of iron, such as laundresses use to put in their smoothing-boxes, when it was fiery hot, held it between his teeth, then in his hands and threw it about like a stone; but this i observed he cared not to do very long; then he stood on a small pot, and, bending his body, took a glowing iron with his mouth from between his feet without touching the pot or ground with his hands; with divers other prodigious feats." there are few notices of the london fairs in contemporary memoirs and journals, and as few advertisements of showmen have been preserved by collectors of such literary curiosities, between the last visit to southwark fair recorded by pepys and the period of the revolution. the public mind was agitated during this time by plots and rumours of plots, by state trials and tower hill executions, which alternately excited men to rage and chilled them with horror. giants and dwarfs, and monstrosities of all kinds, seem to have been more run after, under the influence of these events, than puppets and players. take the following as an example, an announcement which was printed in :-- "at mr. croomes, at the signe of the shoe and slap neer the hospital-gate, in west smithfield, is to be seen _the wonder of nature_, viz., a girl about sixteen years of age, born in cheshire, and not much above eighteen inches long, having shed the teeth seven several times, and not a perfect bone in any part of her, onely the head, yet she hath all her senses to admiration, and discourses, reads very well, sings, whistles, and all very pleasant to hear. god save the king!" the office of master of the revels, which had been held by thomas killigrew, the court jester, was conferred, at his death, upon his son, who leased the licensing of ballad-singers to a bookseller named clarke, as appears from the following announcement, which was inserted in the _london gazette_ in :-- "whereas mr. john clarke, of london, bookseller, did rent of charles killigrew, esq., the licensing of all ballad-singers for five years; which time is expired at lady day next. these are, therefore, to give notice to all ballad-singers, that take out licenses at the office of the revels, at whitehall, for singing and selling of ballads and small books, according to an ancient custom. and all persons concerned are hereby desired to take notice of, and to suppress, all mountebanks, rope-dancers, prize-players, ballad-singers, and such as make show of motions and strange sights, that have not a license in red and black letters, under the hand and seal of the said charles killigrew, esq., master of the revels to his majesty." the only entertainment of which i have found an announcement for this year is the following:--"at mr. saffry's, a dutch-woman's booth, over against the greyhound inn, in west smithfield, during the time of the fair, will be acted the incomparable entertainment call'd the irish evidence, with the humours of teige. with a variety of dances. by the first newmarket company." further glimpses of the fair are afforded, however, by the offer of a reward for "the three horses stolen by james rudderford, a mountebank, and jeremiah march, his clown;" and the announcement that, "the german woman that danc'd where the italian tumbler kept his booth, being over against the swan tavern, by hosier lane end in bartholomew fair, is run away from her mistress, the fifth of this instant; she is of a brownish complexion, with brown hair, and between and years of age; if any person whatsoever can bring tidings to one mr. hone's, at the duke of albemarle's head, at the end of duck lane, so that her mistress may have her again, they shall be rewarded to their own content." in the winter of - , an addition was temporarily made to the london fairs by the opportunity which the freezing of the thames afforded for holding a fair on the ice. the river became frozen on the rd of december, and on the first day of the ice was so thick between the bridges that long rows of booths were erected for the sale of refreshments to the thousands of persons who congregated upon it. evelyn, who visited the strange scene more than once, saw "people and tents selling all sort of wares, as in the city." the frost becoming more intense when it had endured a month, the sports of horse-racing and bull-baiting were presented on the ice; and sledges and skaters were seen gliding swiftly in every direction, with, as evelyn relates, "puppet-plays and interludes, tippling, and other lewd places." the ice was so thick that the booths and stalls remained even when thaw had commenced, but the water soon rendered it disagreeable to walk upon, and long cracks warned the purveyors of recreation and refection to retreat to the land. the fair ended on the th of february. it was during the continuance of this seventeenth century frost fair that evelyn saw a human salamander, when he dined at sir stephen fox's, and "after dinner came a fellow who eat live charcoal, glowingly ignited, quenching them in his mouth, and then champing and swallowing them down. there was a dog also which seemed to do many rational actions." the last sentence is rather obscure; the writer probably intended to convey that the animal performed many actions which seemed rational. during the southwark fair of the following year, there was a giant exhibited at the catherine wheel inn, a famous hostelry down to our own time. printers had not yet corrected the irregular spelling of the preceding century, as appears from the following announcement:--"the gyant, or the miracle of nature, being that so much admired young man, aged nineteen years last june, . born in ireland, of such a prodigious height and bigness, and every way proportionable, the like hath not been seen since the memory of man. he hath been several times shown at court, and his majesty was pleased to walk under his arm, and he is grown very much since; he now reaches ten foot and a half, fathomes near eight foot, spans fifteen inches; and is believed to be as big as one of the gyants in guild-hall. he is to be seen at the sign of the catherine wheel in southwark fair. _vivat rex._" there was probably also to be seen at this fair the dutch woman of whom an author quoted by strutt says that, "when she first danced and vaulted on the rope in london, the spectators beheld her with pleasure mixed with pain, as she seemed every moment in danger of breaking her neck." about this time, there was introduced at the london fairs, an entertainment resembling that now given in the music-halls, in which vocal and instrumental music was alternated with rope-dancing and tumbling. the shows in which these performances were given were called music-booths, though the musical element was far from predominating. the musical portion of the entertainment was not of the highest order, if we may trust the judgment of ward, the author of the _london spy_, who says that he "had rather have heard an old barber ring whittington's bells upon the cittern than all the music these houses afforded." such dramatic performances as were given in the booths at this time seem to have been, in a great measure, confined to the puppet-plays so often mentioned in the memoirs and diaries of the period. granger mentions one philips, who, in the reign of james ii., "was some time fiddler to a puppet-show; in which capacity, he held many a dialogue with punch, in much the same strain as he did afterwards with the mountebank doctor, his master, upon the stage. this zany, being regularly educated, had the advantage of his brethren." besides the serio-comic drama of punch and judy, many popular stories were represented by the puppets of those days, which set forth the fortunes of dick whittington and the sorrows of griselda, the vagaries of merry andrew and the humours of bartholomew fair, as delineated by the pen of ben jonson. it is a noteworthy circumstance, as showing the estimation in which the smithfield fair was held by the upper and middle classes at this period, and for more than half a century afterwards, that the summer season of the patent theatres, which closed at that time, always concluded with a representation of jonson's now forgotten comedy. a slight general view of bartholomew fair in , with some equally slight and curious moralising on the subject, is presented by sir robert southwell, in a letter addressed to his son, the honourable edward southwell, who was then in london with his tutor, mr. webster. "i think it not now," says sir robert, "so proper to quote you verses out of persius, or to talk of cæsar and euclid, as to consider the great theatre of bartholomew fair, where i doubt not but you often resort, and 'twere not amiss if you cou'd convert that tumult into a profitable book. you wou'd certainly see the garboil there to more advantage if mr. webster and you wou'd read, or cou'd see acted, the play of ben jonson, call'd bartholomew fair: for then afterwards going to the spot, you wou'd note if things and humours were the same to day, as they were fifty years ago, and take pattern of the observations which a man of sense may raise out of matters that seem even ridiculous. take then with you the impressions of that play, and in addition thereunto, i shou'd think it not amiss if you then got up into some high window, in order to survey the whole pit at once. i fancy then you will say, _totus mundus agit histrionem_, and then you wou'd note into how many various shapes human nature throws itself, in order to buy cheap and sell dear, for all is but traffick and commerce, some to give, some to take, and all is by exchange, to make the entertainment complete. "the main importance of this fair is not so much for merchandize, and the supplying what people really want; but as a sort of bacchanalia, to gratifie the multitude in their wandering and irregular thoughts. here you see the rope-dancers gett their living meerly by hazarding of their lives, and why men will pay money and take pleasure to see such dangers, is of seperate and philosophical consideration. you have others who are acting fools, drunkards, and madmen, but for the same wages which they might get by honest labour, and live with credit besides. "others, if born in any monstrous shape, or have children that are such, here they celebrate their misery, and by getting of money, forget how odious they are made. when you see the toy-shops, and the strange variety of things, much more impertinent than hobby-horses or gloves of gingerbread, you must know there are customers for all these matters, and it wou'd be a pleasing sight cou'd we see painted a true figure of all these impertinent minds and their fantastick passions, who come trudging hither, only for such things. 'tis out of this credulous crowd that the ballad-singers attrackt an assembly, who listen and admire, while their confederate pickpockets are diving and fishing for their prey. "'tis from those of this number who are more refined, that the mountebank obtains audience and credit, and it were a good bargain if such customers had nothing for their money but words, but they are best content to pay for druggs, and medicines, which commonly doe them hurt. there is one corner of this elizium field devoted to the eating of pig, and the surfeits that attend it. the fruits of the season are everywhere scatter'd about, and those who eat imprudently do but hasten to the physitian or the churchyard." in , william philips, the zany or jack pudding mentioned by granger, was arrested and publicly whipped for perpetrating, in bartholomew fair, a jest on the repressive tendencies of the government, which has been preserved by prior in a poem. it seems that he made his appearance on the exterior platform of the show at which he was engaged, with a tongue in his left hand and a black pudding in his right. professing to have learned an important secret, by which he hoped to profit, he communicated it to the mountebank, as related by prior, as follows:-- "be of your patron's mind whate'er he says; sleep very much, think little, and talk less: mind neither good nor bad, nor right nor wrong; but eat your pudding, slave, and hold your tongue." mr. morley conjectures that this philips was the w. phillips who wrote the tragedy of the _revengeful queen_, published in , and who was supposed to be the author of another, _alcamenes and menelippa_, and of a farce called _britons, strike home_, which was acted in a booth in bartholomew fair. but worth more than all these plays would now be, if it could be discovered, the book published in , of which, only the title-page is preserved in the harleian collection, viz., 'the comical history of the famous merry andrew, w. phill., giving an account of his pleasant humours, various adventures, cheats, frolicks, and cunning designs, both in city and country.' the circus was an entertainment as yet unknown. the only equestrian performances were of the kind given by banks, and repeated, as we learn from davenant and pepys, by performers who came after him, of whom there was a regular succession down to the time of philip astley. the first entertainer who introduced horses into vaulting acts seems to have been william stokes, a famous vaulter of the reigns of the latter stuarts. he was the author of a manual of the art of vaulting, which was published at oxford in , and contains several engravings, showing him in the act of vaulting over a horse, over two horses, and leaping upon them, in one alighting in the saddle, and in another upon the bare back of the horse, _à la bradbury_. another of the great show characters of this period was joseph clark, the posturer, who according to a notice of him in the transactions of the royal philosophical society, "had such an absolute command of all his muscles and joints that he could disjoint almost his whole body." his performance seems to have consisted chiefly in the imitation of every kind of human deformity; and he is said to have imposed so completely upon molins, a famous surgeon of that period, as to be dismissed by him as an incurable cripple. his portrait in tempest's collection represents him in the act of shouldering his leg, an antic which is imitated by a monkey. clark was the "whimsical fellow, commonly known by the name of the posture-master," mentioned by addison in the 'guardian,' no. . he was the son of a distiller in shoe lane, who designed him for the medical profession, but a brief experience with john coniers, an apothecary in fleet street, not pleasing him, he was apprenticed to a mercer in bishopsgate street. trade suited him no better than medicine, it would seem, for he afterwards went to paris, in the retinue of the duke of buckingham, and there first displayed his powers as a posturer. he died in , at his house in pall mall, and was buried in the church of st. martin-in-the-fields. many portraits of him, in different attitudes, are extant in the british museum. monstrosities have always been profitable subjects for exhibition. shakespeare tells us, and may be presumed to have intended the remark to convey his impression of the tendency of his own generation, that people would give more to see a dead indian than to relieve a lame beggar; and the profits of the exhibition of julia pastrana and the so-called kostroma people show that the public interest in such monstrosities remains unabated. but what would "city men" say to such an exhibition in threadneedle street? i take the following announcement from a newspaper of june, :-- "at moncrieff's coffee-house, in threadneedle street, near the royal exchange, is exposed to view, for sixpence a piece, a monster that lately died there, being humane upwards and bruit downwards, wonderful to behold: the like was never seen in england before, the skin is so exactly stuffed that the whole lineaments and proportion of the monster are as plain to be seen as when it was alive. and a very fine civet cat, spotted like a leopard, and is now alive, that was brought from africa with it. they are exposed to view from eight in the morning to eight at night." at the king's head, in west smithfield, there was this year exhibited "a little scotch man, which has been admired by all that have yet seen him, he being but two foot and six inches high; and is near upon years of age. he was marry'd several years, and had issue by his wife, two sons (one of which is with him now). he sings and dances with his son, and has had the honour to be shewn before several persons of note at their houses, as far as they have yet travelled. he formerly kept a writing school; and discourses of the scriptures, and of many eminent histories, very wisely; and gives great satisfaction to all spectators; and if need requires, there are several persons in this town, that will justifie that they were his schollars, and see him marry'd." in the same year, david cornwell exhibited, at the ram's head, in fenchurch street, a singular lad, advertised as "the bold grimace spaniard," who was said to have "liv'd years among wild creatures in the mountains, and is reasonably suppos'd to have been taken out of his cradle an infant, by some savage beast, and wonderfully preserv'd, till some comedians accidentally pass'd through those parts, and perceiving him to be of human race, pursu'd him to his cave, where they caught him in a net. they found something wonderful in his nature, and took him with them in their travels through _spain_ and _italy_. he performs the following surprising grimaces, viz., he lolls out his tongue a foot long, turns his eyes in and out at the same time; contracts his face as small as an apple; extends his mouth six inches, and turns it into the shape of a bird's beak, and his eyes like to an owl's; turns his mouth into the form of a hat cock'd up three ways; and also frames it in the manner of a four-square buckle; licks his nose with his tongue, like a cow; rolls one eyebrow two inches up, the other two down; changes his face to such an astonishing degree, as to appear like a corpse long bury'd. altho' bred wild so long, yet by travelling with the aforesaid comedians years, he can sing wonderfully fine, and accompanies his voice with a thorow bass on the lute. his former natural estrangement from human conversation oblig'd _mr. cornwell_ to bring a jackanapes over with him for his companion, in whom he takes great delight and satisfaction." how many of these show creatures were impostors, and how many genuine eccentricities of human nature, it is impossible to say. barnum's revelations have made us sceptical. but the numerous advertisements of this kind in the newspapers of the period show that the passion for monstrosities was as strongly developed in the latter half of the seventeenth century as at the present day. barnes and appleby's booth for tumbling and rope-dancing appears from the following advertisement, extracted from a newspaper of , to have attended bartholomew fair the previous year:-- "at mr. barnes's and mr. appleby's booth, between the crown tavern and the hospital gate, over against the cross daggers, next to miller's droll booth, in west smithfield, where the english and dutch flaggs, with barnes's and the two german maidens' pictures, will hang out, during the time of bartholomew fair, will be seen the most excellent and incomparable performances in dancing on the slack rope, walking on the slack rope, vaulting and tumbling on the stage, by these five, the most famous companies in the universe, viz., the english, irish, high german, french, and morocco, now united. the two german maidens, who exceeded all mankind in their performances, are within this twelvemonth improved to a miracle." in this year i find the following advertisement of a music booth, which must have been one of the earliest established:-- "thomas dale, drawer at the crown tavern at aldgate, keepeth the turk's head _musick booth_, in smithfield rounds, over against the _greyhound_ inn during the time of _bartholomew fair_, where is a glass of good wine, mum, syder, beer, ale, and all other sorts of liquors, to be sold; and where you will likewise be entertained with good musick, singing, and dancing. you will see a scaramouch dance, the italian punch's dance, the quarter staff, the antick, the countryman and countrywoman's dance, and the merry cuckolds of hogsden. "also a young man that dances an entry, salabrand, and jigg, and a woman that dances with six naked rapiers, that we challenge the whole fair to do the like. there is likewise a young woman that dances with fourteen glasses on the backs and palms of her hands, and turns round with them above an hundred times as fast as a windmill turns; and another young man that dances a jigg incomparably well, to the admiration of all spectators. _vivat rex._" james miles, who announced himself as from sadler's wells, kept the gun music-booth in the fair, and announced nineteen dances, among which were "a dance of three bullies and three quakers;" a cripples' dance by six persons with wooden legs and crutches, "in imitation of a jovial crew;" a dance with swords, and on a ladder, by a young woman, "with that variety that she challenges all her sex to do the like;" and a new entertainment, "between a scaramouch, a harlequin, and a punchinello, in imitation of bilking a reckoning." we shall meet with james miles again in the next chapter and century. chapter iv. attempts to suppress the shows at bartholomew fair--a remarkable dutch boy--theatrical booths at the london fairs--penkethman, the comedian--may fair--barnes and finley--lady mary--doggett, the comedian--simpson, the vaulter--clench, the whistler--a show at charing cross--another performing horse--powell and crawley, the puppet-showmen--miles's music-booth--settle and mrs. mynn--southwark fair--mrs. horton, the actress--bullock and leigh--penkethman and pack--boheme, the actor--suppression of may fair--woodward, the comedian--a female hercules--tiddy-dol, the gingerbread vendor. so early as the close of the seventeenth century, one hundred and fifty years before the fair was abolished, we find endeavours being made, in emulation of the puritans, to banish every kind of amusement from bartholomew fair, and limit it to the purposes of an annual market. in , the lord mayor and court of aldermen resolved that no booths should be permitted to be erected in smithfield that year; but on the th of august it was announced that "the lessees of west smithfield having on friday last represented to a court of aldermen at guildhall, that it would be highly injurious to them to have the erection of all booths there totally prohibited, the right honourable lord mayor and the court of aldermen have, on consideration of the premises, granted licence to erect some booths during the time of bartholomew fair now approaching; but none are permitted for music-booths, or any that may be means to promote debauchery." and, on the rd, when the lord mayor went on horseback to proclaim the fair, he ordered two music-booths to be taken down immediately. on the th of june, in the following year, the grand jury made a presentment to the following effect:--"whereas we have seen a printed order of the lord mayor and court of aldermen, the th june, , to prevent the great profaneness, vice, and debauchery, so frequently used and practised in bartholomew fair, by strictly charging and commanding all persons concerned in the said fair, and in the sheds and booths to be erected and built therein or places adjacent, that they do not let, set, or hire, or use any booth, shed, stall, or other erection whatsoever to be used or employed for interludes, stage-plays, comedies, gaming-places, lotteries, or music meetings: and as we are informed the present lord mayor and court of aldermen have passed another order to the same effect on the rd instant, we take this occasion to return our most hearty thanks for their religious care and great zeal in this matter; we esteeming a renewing of their former practices at the fair a continuing one of the chiefest nurseries of vice next to the play-houses; therefore earnestly desire that the said orders may be vigorously prosecuted, and that this honourable court would endeavour that the said fair may be employed to those good ends and purposes it was at first designed." this presentment deserves, and will repay, the most attentive consideration of those who would know the real character of the amusements presented at the london fairs, and the motives and aims of those who endeavoured to suppress them. the grand jury profess to be actuated by a desire to diminish profanity, vice, and debauchery; and, if this had been their real and sole object, nothing could have been more laudable. but, like those who would suppress the liquor traffic in order to prevent drunkenness, they confounded the use with the abuse of the thing which they condemned, and sought to deprive the masses of every kind of amusement, because some persons could not participate therein without indulging in vicious and debasing pleasures. it might have been supposed that bartholomew fair was pre-eminently a means and occasion of vice and debauchery, and that its continuance was incompatible with the maintenance of public order and the due guardianship of public morals, if the grand jury had not coupled with their condemnation an expression of their opinion that it was not so bad as the theatres. in that sentence is disclosed the real motive and aim of those who sought the suppression of the amusements of the people at the london fairs. that the morals and manners of that age were of a low standard is undeniable; but they would have been worse if the fairs had been abolished, and the theatres closed, as the fanatics of the day willed. men and women cannot be made pious or virtuous by the prohibition of theatres, concerts, and balls, any more than they can be rendered temperate by suppressing the public sale of beer, wine, and spirits. naturally, a virtuous man, without being a straight-laced opponent of "cakes and ale," would have seen, in walking through a fair, much that he would deplore, and desire to amend; but such a man would have the same reflections inspired by a visit to a theatre or a music-hall, or any other amusement of the present day. he would not, however, if he was sensible as well as virtuous, conclude from what he saw and heard that all public amusements ought to be prohibited. to suppress places of popular entertainment because some persons abuse them would be like destroying a garden because a snail crawls over the foliage, or an earwig lurks in the flowers. the london fairs were attended this year by a remarkable dutch boy, about eight or nine years of age, whose eyes presented markings of the iris in which sharp-sighted persons, aided perhaps by a considerable development of the organ of wonder, read certain latin and hebrew words. in one eye, the observer read, or was persuaded that he could read, the words _deus meus_; in the other, in hebrew characters, the word _elohim_. the boy's parents, by whom he was exhibited, affirmed that his eyes had presented these remarkable peculiarities from his birth. great numbers of persons, including the most eminent physiologists and physicians of the day, went to see him; and the learned, who examined his eyes with great attention, were as far from solving the mystery as the crowd of ordinary sight-seers. some of them regarded the case as an imposture, but they were unable to suggest any means by which such a fraud could be accomplished. others regarded it as "almost" supernatural, a qualification not very easy to understand. the supposed characters were probably natural, and only to be seen as roman and hebrew letters by imaginative persons, or those who viewed them with the eye of faith. whatever their nature, the boy's sight was not affected by them in the slightest degree. the theatrical booths attending the london fairs began at this time to be more numerous, and to present an entertainment of a better character than had hitherto been seen. the elder penkethman appears to have been the first actor of good position on the stage who set the example of performing in a temporary canvas theatre during the fairs, and it was soon followed by the leading actors and actresses of the royal theatres. in a dialogue on the state of the stage, published in , and attributed to gildon, critick calls penkethman "the flower of bartholomew fair, and the idol of the rabble; a fellow that overdoes everything, and spoils many a part with his own stuff." he had then been ten years on the stage, having made his first appearance at drury lane in , as the tailor, a small part in _the volunteers_. four years later, we find him playing, at the same theatre, such parts as snap in _love's last shift_, dr. pulse in _the lost lover_, and nick froth in _the cornish comedy_. what the author of the pamphlet just quoted says of this actor receives confirmation and illustration from an anecdote told of him, in connection with the first representation of farquhar's _recruiting officer_ at drury lane in . penkethman, who played thomas appletree, one of the rustic recruits, when asked his name by wilks, to whom the part of captain plume was assigned, replied, "why, don't you know my name, bob? i thought every fool knew that." "thomas appletree," whispered wilks, assuming the office of prompter. "thomas appletree!" exclaimed penkethman, aloud. "thomas devil! my name is will penkethman." then, turning to the gallery, he addressed one of the audience thus:--"hark you, friend; don't you know my name?" "yes, master pinkey," responded the occupant of a front seat in the gallery. "we know it very well." the theatre was soon in an uproar: the audience at first laughed at the folly of penkethman and the evident distress of wilks; but the joke soon grew tiresome, and they began to hiss. penkethman saw his mistake, and speedily changed displeasure into applause by crying out, with a loud nasal twang, and a countenance as ludicrously melancholy as he could make it, "adzooks! i fear i am wrong!" barnes, the rope-dancer, had at this time lost his former partner, appleby, and taken into partnership an acrobat named finley. they advertised their show in at bartholomew fair as, "her majesty's company of rope dancers." they had two german girls "lately arrived from france;" and it was announced that "the famous mr. barnes, of whose performances this kingdom is so sensible, dances with children at his feet, and with boots and spurs. mrs. finley, distinguished by the name of lady mary for her incomparable dancing, has much improved herself since the last fair. you will likewise be entertained with such variety of tumbling by mr. finley and his company, as was never seen in the fair before. note, that for the conveniency of the gentry, there is a back-door in smithfield rounds." they were not without rivals, though the absence of names from the following advertisement renders it probable that the "famous company" calculated upon larger gains from anonymous boasting than they could hope for from the announcement of their names:-- "at the great booth over against the hospital gate in bartholomew fair, will be seen the famous company of rope dancers, they being the greatest performers of men, women, and children that can be found beyond the seas, so that the world cannot parallel them for dancing on the low rope, vaulting on the high rope, and for walking on the slack and sloaping ropes, out-doing all others to that degree, that it has highly recommended them, both in bartholomew fair and may fair last, to all the best persons of quality in england. and by all are owned to be the only amazing wonders of the world in every thing they do: it is there you will see the italian scaramouch dancing on the rope, with a wheel-barrow before him, with two children and a dog in it, and with a duck on his head who sings to the company, and causes much laughter. the whole entertainment will be so extremely fine and diverting, as never was done by any but this company alone." doggett, whom cibber calls the most natural actor of the day, and whose name is associated with the coat and badge rowed for annually, on the st of august, by london watermen's apprentices, was here this year, with a theatrical booth, erected at the end of hosier lane, where was presented, as the advertisements tell us, "a new droll call'd the distressed virgin or _the unnatural parents_. being a true history of the _fair maid of the west_, or the loving sisters. with the comical travels of _poor trusty_, in search of his _master's daughter_, and his encounter with _three witches_. _also variety of comick dances and songs, with scenes and machines never seen before. vivat regina._" doggett was at this time manager of drury lane. miller, the actor, also had a theatrical booth in the fair, and made the following announcement:-- "never acted before. at _miller's booth_, over against _the cross daggers_, near the _crown tavern_, during the time of _bartholomew fair_, will be presented an excellent new droll, call'd the tempest, or _the distressed lovers_. with the _english hero_ and the _island princess_, and the comical humours of the inchanted _scotchman_; or _jockey_ and the _three witches_. showing how a nobleman of england was cast away upon the indian shore, and in his travel found the princess of the country, with whom he fell in love, and after many dangers and perils, was married to her; and his faithful scotchman, who was saved with him, travelling through woods, fell in among witches, when between 'em is abundance of comical diversions. there in the tempest is neptune, with his triton in his chariot drawn with sea horses and mair maids singing. with variety of entertainment, performed by the best masters; the particulars would be too tedious to be inserted here. _vivat regina._" the similarity of the chief incidents in the dramas presented by doggett and miller is striking. in both we have the troubles of the lovers, the comical adventures of a man-servant, and the encounter with witches. we shall find these incidents reproduced again and again, with variations, and under different titles, in the plays set before bartholomew audiences of the eighteenth century. may fair first assumed importance this year, when the multiplication of shows of all kinds caused it to assume dimensions which had not hitherto distinguished it. it was held on the north side of piccadilly, in shepherd's market, white horse street, shepherd's court, sun court, market court, an open space westward, extending to tyburn lane (now park lane), chapel street, shepherd street, market street, hertford street, and carrington street. the ground-floor of the market-house, usually occupied by butchers' stalls, was appropriated during the fair to the sale of toys and gingerbread; and the upper portion was converted into a theatre. the open space westward was covered with the booths of jugglers, fencers, and boxers, the stands of mountebanks, swings, round-abouts, etc., while the sides of the streets were occupied by sausage stalls and gambling tables. the first-floor windows were also, in some instances, made to serve as the proscenia of puppet shows. i have been able to trace only two shows to this fair in , namely barnes and finley's and miller's, which stood opposite to the former, and presented "an excellent droll called _crispin and crispianus: or, a shoemaker a prince_; with the best machines, singing and dancing ever yet in the fair." a great concourse of people attended from all parts of the metropolis; an injudicious attempt on the part of the local authorities to exclude persons of immoral character, which has always been found impracticable in places of public amusement, resulted in a serious riot. some young women being arrested by the constables on the allegation that they were prostitutes, they were rescued by a party of soldiers; and a conflict was begun, which extended as other constables came up, and the "rough" element took part with the rescuers of the incriminated women. one constable was killed, and three others dangerously wounded before the fight ended. the man by whose hand the constable fell contrived to escape; but a butcher who had been active in the affray was arrested, and convicted, and suffered the capital penalty at tyburn. in the following year, the fair was presented as a nuisance by the grand jury of middlesex; but it continued to be held for several years afterwards. barnes and finley again had a show at bartholomew fair, to which the public were invited to "see my lady mary perform such steps on the dancing-rope as have never been seen before." the young lady thus designated, and whose performance attracted crowds of spectators to barnes and finley's show, was said to be the daughter of a florentine noble, and had given up all for love by eloping with finley. by the companion of her flight she was taught to dance upon the tight rope, and for a few years was an entertainer of considerable popularity; but, venturing to exhibit her agility and grace while _enceinte_, she lost her balance, fell from the rope, and died almost immediately after giving birth to a stillborn child. bullock and simpson, the former an actor of some celebrity at drury lane, joined penkethman this year in a show at bartholomew fair, in which _jephtha's rash vow_ was performed, penkethman playing the part of toby, and bullock that of ezekiel. bullock is described in the pamphlet attributed to gildon as "the best comedian who has trod the stage since nokes and leigh, and a fellow that has a very humble opinion of himself." so much modesty must have made him a _rara avis_ among actors, who have, as a rule, a very exalted opinion of themselves. he had been six years on the stage at this time, having made his first appearance in , at drury lane, as sly in _love's last shift_. his ability was soon recognised; and in the same year he played sir morgan blunder in _the younger brother_, and shuffle in _the cornish comedy_. parker and doggett also had a booth this year at the same fair, playing _bateman; or, the unhappy marriage_, with the latter comedian in the part of sparrow. penkethman at this time, from his salary as an actor at drury lane, his gains from attending bartholomew and southwark fairs with his show, and the profits of the richmond theatre, which he either owned or leased, was in the receipt of a considerable income. "he is the darling of fortunatus," says downes, writing in , "and has gained more in theatres and fairs in twelve years than those who have tugged at the oar of acting these fifty." he did not retire from the stage, however, until . some of the minor shows of this period must now be noticed. a bill of this time--the date cannot always be fixed--invites the visitors to bartholomew fair to witness "the wonderful performances of that most celebrated master simpson, the famous vaulter, who being lately arrived from italy, will show the world what vaulting is." the chroniclers of the period have not preserved any record, save this bill, of this not too modest performer. a more famous entertainer was clench, a native of barnet, whose advertisements state that he "imitates horses, huntsmen, and a pack of hounds, a doctor, an old woman, a drunken man, bells, the flute, and the organ, with three voices, by his own natural voice, to the greatest perfection," and that he was "the only man that could ever attain so great an art." he had a rival, however, in the whistling man, mentioned in the 'spectator,' who was noted for imitating the notes of all kinds of birds. clench attended all the fairs in and around london, and at other times gave his performance at the corner of bartholomew lane, behind the old exchange. to this period also belongs the following curious announcement of "a collection of strange and wonderful creatures from most parts of the world, all alive," to be seen over against the mews gate, charing cross, by her majesty's permission. "the first being a little _black man_, being but foot high, and years of age, straight and proportionable every way, who is distinguished by the name of the _black prince_, and has been shewn before most kings and princes in christendom. the next being his wife, the _little woman_, not foot high, and years of age, straight and proportionable as any woman in the land, which is commonly called the _fairy queen_; she gives general satisfaction to all that sees her, by diverting them with dancing, being big with child. likewise their little _turkey horse_, being but foot odd inches high, and above years of age, that shews several diverting and surprising actions, at the word of command. the least man, woman, and horse that ever was seen in the world alive. _the horse being kept in a box._ the next being a strange monstrous female creature that was taken in the woods in the deserts of �thiopia in prester _john's_ country, in the remotest parts of africa. the next is the noble _picary_, which is very much admir'd by the learned. the next being the noble _jack-call_, the lion's provider, which hunts in the forest for the lion's prey. likewise a small _egyptian panther_, spotted like a _leopard_. the next being a strange, monstrous creature, brought from the _coast of brazil_, having a head like a child, legs and arms very wonderful, with a long tail like a serpent, wherewith he feeds himself, as an _elephant_ doth with his trunk. with several other rarities too tedious to mention in this bill. "and as no such collection was ever shewn in this place before, we hope they will give you content and satisfaction, assuring you, that they are the greatest rarities that ever was shewn alive in this kingdom, and are to be seen from nine o'clock in the morning, till at night, where true attendance shall be given during our stay in this place, which will be very short. _long live the_ queen." the proprietors of menageries and circuses are always amusing, if not very lucid, when they set forth in type the attractions of their shows. the owner of the rarities exhibited over against the mews gate in the reign of queen anne was no exception to the rule. the picary and the jack-call may be readily identified as the peccary and the jackal, but "a strange monstrous female creature" defies recognition, even with the addition that it was brought from prester john's country. the brazilian wonder may be classified with safety with the long-tailed monkeys, especially as another and shorter advertisement, in the 'spectator,' describes it a little more explicitly as a satyr. it was, probably, a spider monkey, one variety of which is said, by humboldt, to use its prehensile tail for the purpose of picking insects out of crevices. the harleian collection contains the following announcement of a performing horse:-- "to be seen, at the ship, upon great tower hill, the finest taught horse in the world. he fetches and carries like a spaniel dog. if you hide a glove, a handkerchief, a door-key, a pewter basin, or so small a thing as a silver two-pence, he will seek about the room till he has found it; and then he will bring it to his master. he will also tell the number of spots on a card, and leap through a hoop; with a variety of other curious performances." powell, the famous puppet-showman mentioned in the 'spectator,' in humorous contrast with the italian opera, never missed bartholomew fair, where, however, he had a rival in crawley, two of whose bills have been preserved in the harleian collection. pinkethman, another "motion-maker," as the exhibitors of these shows were called, and also mentioned in the 'spectator,' introduced on his stage the divinities of olympus ascending and descending to the sound of music. strutt, who says that he saw something of the same kind at a country fair in , thinks that the scenes and figures were painted upon a flat surface and cut out, like those of a boy's portable theatre, and that motion was imparted to them by clock-work. this he conjectures to have been the character also of the representation, with moving figures, of the camp before lisle, which was exhibited, in the reign of anne, in the strand, opposite the globe tavern, near hungerford market. one of the two bills of crawley's show which have been preserved was issued for bartholomew fair, and the other for southwark fair. the former is as follows:-- "at crawley's booth, over against the crown tavern in smithfield, during the time of bartholomew fair, will be presented a little opera, called the _old creation of the world_, yet newly revived; with the addition of _noah's flood_; also several fountains playing water during the time of the play. the last scene does present noah and his family coming out of the ark, with all the beasts two by two, and all the fowls of the air seen in a prospect sitting upon trees; likewise over the ark is seen the sun rising in a most glorious manner: moreover, a multitude of angels will be seen in a double rank, which presents a double prospect, one for the sun, the other for a palace, where will be seen six angels ringing of bells. likewise machines descending from above, double, with dives rising out of hell, and lazarus seen in abraham's bosom, besides several figures dancing jiggs, sarabands, and country dances, to the admiration of the spectators; with the merry conceits of _squire punch and sir john spendall_." this curious medley was "completed by an entertainment of singing, and dancing with several naked swords by a child of eight years of age." in the bill for southwark fair we find the addition of "the ball of little dogs," said to have come from louvain, and to perform "by their cunning tricks wonders in the world of dancing. you shall see one of them named marquis of gaillerdain, whose dexterity is not to be compared; he dances with madame poucette his mistress and the rest of their company at the sound of instruments, all of them observing so well the cadence that they amaze everybody;" it is added that these celebrated performers had danced before queen anne and most of the nobility, and amazed everybody. james miles, who has been mentioned in the last chapter, promised the visitors, in a bill preserved in the harleian collection, that they should see "a young woman dance with the swords, and upon a ladder, surpassing all her sex." nineteen different dances were performed in his show, among which he mentions a "wrestlers' dance" and vaulting upon the slack rope. respecting this dancing with swords, strutt says that he remembered seeing "at flockton's, a much noted but very clumsy juggler, a girl about eighteen or twenty years of age, who came upon the stage with four naked swords, two in each hand; when the music played, she turned round with great swiftness, and formed a great variety of figures with the swords, holding them overhead, down by her sides, behind her, and occasionally she thrust them in her bosom. the dance generally continued ten or twelve minutes; and when it was finished, she stopped suddenly, without appearing to be in the least giddy from the constant reiteration of the same motion." the ladder-dance was performed upon a light ladder, which the performer shifted from place to place, ascended and descended, without permitting it to fall. it was practised at sadler's wells at the commencement of the last century, and revived there in . strutt thought it originated in the stilt-dance, which appears, from an illumination of the reign of henry iii., to have been practised in the thirteenth century. mrs. mynn appears as a bartholomew fair theatrical manageress in , when settle, then nearly sixty years of age, and in far from flourishing circumstances, adapted to her stage his spectacular drama of the _siege of troy_, which had been produced at drury lane six years previously. settle, who was a good contriver of spectacles, though a bad dramatic poet, reduced it from five acts to three, striking out four or five of the _dramatis personæ_, cutting down the serious portions of the dialogue, and giving greater breadth as well as length to the comic incidents, without which no bartholomew audience would have been satisfied. as acted in her theatrical booth, it was printed by mrs. mynn, with the following introduction:-- "_a printed publication of an_ entertainment _performed on a_ smithfield stage, _which, how gay or richly soever set off, will hardly reach to a higher title than the customary name of a_ droll, _may seem somewhat new. but as the present undertaking, the work of ten months' preparation, is so extraordinary a performance, that without boast or vanity we may modestly say, in the whole_ several scenes, movements, _and_ machines, _it is no ways inferiour even to any one_ opera _yet seen in either of_ the royal theatres; _we are therefore under some sort of necessity to make this publication, thereby to give ev'n the meanest of our audience a full light into all the object they will there meet in this_ expensive entertainment; _the_ proprietors _of which have adventur'd to make, under some small hopes, that as they yearly see some of their happier brethren undertakers in the_ fair, _more cheaply obtain even the engrost smiles of the_ gentry _and_ quality _at so much an easier price; so on the other side their own more costly projection (though less favourites) might possibly attain to that good fortune, at least to attract a little share of the good graces of the more honourable part of the audience, and perhaps be able to purchase some of those smiles which elsewhere have been thus long the profuser donation of particular affection and favour._" in the following year, settle arranged for mrs. mynn the dramatic spectacle of _whittington_, long famous at bartholomew fair, concluding with a mediæval lord mayor's cavalcade, in which nine different pageants were introduced. in , the first menagerie seems to have appeared at bartholomew fair, where it stood near the hospital gate, and attracted considerable attention. sir hans sloane cannot be supposed to have missed such an opportunity of studying animals little known, as he is said to have constantly visited the fair for that purpose, and to have retained the services of a draughtsman for their representation. the first menagerie in this country was undoubtedly that, which for several centuries, was maintained in the tower of london, and the beginning of which may be traced to the presentation of three leopards to henry iii. by the emperor of germany, in allusion to the heraldic device of the former. several royal orders are extant which show the progress made in the formation of the menagerie and furnish many interesting particulars concerning the animals. two of these documents, addressed by henry iii. to the sheriffs of london, have reference to a white bear. the first, dated , directs that fourpence a day should be allowed for the animal's subsistence; and the second, made in the following year, commands that, "for the keeper of our white bear, lately sent us from norway, and which is in our tower of london, ye cause to be had one muzzle and one iron chain, to hold that bear without the water, and one long and strong cord to hold the same bear when fishing in the river of thames." other mandates, relating to an elephant, were issued in the same reign, in one of which it is directed, "that ye cause, without delay, to be built at our tower of london, one house of forty feet long, and twenty feet deep, for our elephant; providing that it be so made and so strong that, when need be it may be fit and necessary for other uses." we learn from matthew paris that this animal was presented to henry by the king of france. it was ten years old, and ten feet in height. it lived till the forty-first year of henry's reign, in which year it is recorded that, for the maintenance of the elephant and its keeper, from michaelmas to st. valentine's day, immediately before it died, the charge was nearly seventeen pounds--a considerable sum for those days. many additions were made to the tower menagerie in the reign of edward iii.; and notably a lion and lioness, a leopard, and two wild cats. the office of keeper of the lions was created by henry vi., with an allowance of sixpence a day for the keeper, and a like sum "for the maintenance of every lion or leopard now being in his custody, or that shall be in his custody hereafter." this office was continued until comparatively recent times, when it was abolished with the menagerie, a step which put an end likewise to the time-honoured hoax, said to have been practised upon country cousins, of going to the water side, below london bridge, to see the lions washed. the building appropriated to the keeping and exhibition of the animals was a wide semi-circular edifice, in which were constructed, at distances of a few feet apart, a number of arched "dens," divided into two or more compartments, and secured by strong iron bars. opposite these cages was a gallery of corresponding form, with a low stone parapet, and approached from the back by a flight of steps. this was appropriated exclusively to the accommodation of the royal family, who witnessed from it the feeding of the beasts and the combats described by mr. ainsworth in the romance which made the older portions of the tower familiar ground to so many readers. the menagerie which appeared in smithfield in , and the ownership of which i have been unable to discover, was a very small concern; but with the showman's knowledge of the popular love of the marvellous, was announced as "a collection of strange and wonderful creatures," which included "the noble _casheware_, brought from the island of java in the east indies, one of the strangest creatures in the universe, being half a bird, and half a beast, reaches hands high from the ground, his head is like a bird, and so is his feet, he hath no hinder claw, wings, tongue, nor tail; his body is like to the body of a deer; instead of feathers, his fore-part is covered with hair like an ox, his hinder-part with a double feather in one quill; he eats iron, steel, or stones; he hath spears grows by his side." there is now no difficulty in recognising this strange bird as the cassowary, the representative in the indian islands of the ostrich. there was also a leopard from lebanon, an eagle from russia, a "posoun" (opossum ?) from hispaniola, and, besides a "great mare of the tartarian breed," which "had the honour to be show'd before queen anne, prince george, and most of the nobility," "a little black hairy _monster_, bred in the _desarts of arabia_, a natural ruff of hair about his face, walks upright, takes a glass of ale in his hand and drinks it off; and doth several other things to admiration." this animal was probably a specimen of the maned colobus, a native of the forests of sierra leone, and called by pennant the full-bottomed monkey, in allusion to the full-bottom periwig of his day. a pamphlet was published in , with the title, _the wonders of england_, purporting to contain "doggett and penkethman's dialogue with old nick, on the suppression of bartholomew fair," and accounts of many strange and wonderful things; but it was a mere "catch-penny," as such productions of the monmouth street press were called, not containing a line about the suppression of the fair, and the title, as hone observes, "like the showmen's painted cloths in the fair, pictures monsters not visible within." the lesser sights of a fair in the first quarter of the eighteenth century are graphically delineated by gay, in his character of the ballad singer, in "the shepherd's week," bringing before the mind's eye the stalls, the lotteries, the mountebanks, the tumblers, the rope-dancers, the raree-shows, the puppets, and "all the fun of the fair." "how pedlers' stalls with glittering toys are laid, the various fairings of the country maid. long silken laces hang upon the twine, and rows of pins and amber bracelets shine; how the tight lass knives, combs, and scissors spies, and looks on thimbles with desiring eyes. of lotteries next with tuneful note he told, where silver spoons are won, and rings of gold. the lads and lasses trudge the street along, and all the fair is crowded in his song. the mountebank now treads the stage, and sells his pills, his balsams, and his ague-spells; now o'er and o'er the nimble tumbler springs, and on the rope the venturous maiden swings; jack pudding, in his party-coloured jacket, tosses the glove, and jokes at every packet. of raree-shows he sung, and punch's feats, of pockets picked in crowds, and various cheats." the theatrical booths, of which we have only casual notices or records during the seventeenth century and the first dozen years of the eighteenth, became an important feature of the london fairs about , from which time those of bartholomew and southwark were regularly attended by many of the leading actors and actresses of drury lane, covent garden, the haymarket, lincoln's inn fields, and goodman's fields theatres, down to the middle of the century, excepting those years in which no theatrical booths were allowed to be put up in smithfield. the theatrical companies which attended the fairs were not, however, drawn entirely from the london theatres. three or four actors associated in the proprietorship and management, or were engaged by a popular favourite, and the rest of the company was recruited from provincial theatres, or from the strolling comedians of the country fairs. the london fairs were not, therefore, neglected by metropolitan managers in quest of talent, who, by witnessing the performances in booths on smithfield or southwark green, sometimes found and transferred to their own boards, actors and actresses who proved stars of the first magnitude. it was in bartholomew fair that booth found walker, the original representative of captain macheath, playing in the _siege of troy_; and in southwark fair, in , that the same manager saw mrs. horton acting in _cupid and psyche_, and was so pleased with her impersonation that he immediately offered her an engagement at drury lane, where she appeared the following season as melinda, in the _recruiting officer_. she made her first appearance in , as marcia in _cato_, with a strolling company then performing at windsor; and is said to have been one of the most beautiful women that ever trod the stage. penkethman's company played the _constant lovers_ in southwark fair in the year that proved so fortunate for mrs. horton, the comedian himself playing buzzard, and bullock taking the part of sir timothy littlewit. in the following year, as we learn from a newspaper paragraph "a great play-house" was erected in the middle of smithfield for "the king's players," being "the largest ever built." in bullock did not accompany penkethman, but set up a booth of his own, in conjunction with leigh; while penkethman formed a partnership with pack, and produced the new "droll," _twice married and a maid still_, in which the former personated old merriwell; pack, tim; quin, vincent; ryan, peregrine; spiller, trusty; and mrs. spiller, lucia. penkethman's booth received the honour of a visit from the prince of wales. on the evening of the th of september, the popular favourite and several of the company were arrested on the stage by a party of constables, in the presence of a hundred and fifty of the nobility and gentry; but, pleading that they were "the king's servants," they were released without being subjected to the pains and penalties of vagrancy. in , bullock's name appears alone as the proprietor of the theatrical booth set up in birdcage alley, for southwark fair, and in which the _jew of venice_ was represented, with singing and dancing, and harper's representation of the freaks and humours of a drunken man, which, having been greatly admired at lincoln's inn fields, where he and bullock were both then engaged, could not fail to delight a fair audience. it was in this year that boheme made his first appearance, as menelaus in the _siege of troy_, in a booth at southwark, where he was seen and immediately engaged by the manager of lincoln's inn fields, where he appeared the following season as worcester in _henry iv._, and subsequently as the ghost in _hamlet_, york in _richard ii._, pisanio in _cymbeline_, brabantio in _othello_, etc. the theatres at this time were closed during the continuance of bartholomew fair, the concourse of all classes to that popular resort preventing them from obtaining remunerative audiences at that time, while the actors could obtain larger salaries in booths than they received at the theatres, and some realised large amounts by associating in the ownership of a booth. the haymarket company presented the _beggar's opera_, at bartholomew and southwark fairs in ; and penkethman had his booth at both fairs, this year without a partner. may fair, which had long been falling into disrepute, now ceased to be held. it was presented by the grand jury of middlesex four years successively as a nuisance; and the county magistrates then presented an address to the crown, praying for its suppression by royal proclamation. pennant, who says that he remembered the last may fair, describes the locality as "covered with booths, temporary theatres, and every enticement to low pleasure." a more particular description was given in , in a communication from carter, the antiquary, to the "gentleman's magazine." "a mountebank's stage," he tells us, "was erected opposite the three jolly butchers public-house (on the east side of the market area, now the king's arms). here woodward, the inimitable comedian and harlequin, made his first appearance as merry andrew; from these humble boards he soon after made his way to covent garden theatre. then there was 'beheading of puppets.' in a coal-shed attached to a grocer's shop (then mr. frith's, now mr. frampton's), one of these mock executions was exposed to the attending crowd. a shutter was fixed horizontally, on the edge of which, after many previous ceremonies, a puppet laid its head, and another puppet instantly chopped it off with an axe. in a circular stair-case window, at the north end of sun court, a similar performance took place by another set of puppets. in these representations, the late punishment of the scottish chieftain (lord lovat) was alluded to, in order to gratify the feelings of southern loyalty, at the expense of that further north. "in a fore one-pair room, on the west side of sun court, a frenchman submitted to the curious the astonishing strength of the 'strong woman,' his wife. a blacksmith's anvil being procured from white horse street, with three of the men, they brought it up, and placed it on the floor. the woman was short, but most beautifully and delicately formed, and of a most lovely countenance. she first let down her hair (a light auburn), of a length descending to her knees, which she twisted round the projecting part of the anvil, and then, with seeming ease, lifted the ponderous weight some inches from the floor. after this, a bed was laid in the middle of the room; when, reclining on her back, and uncovering her bosom, the husband ordered the smiths to place thereon the anvil, and forge upon it a horse-shoe! this they obeyed, by taking from the fire a red-hot piece of iron, and with their forging hammers completing the shoe, with the same might and indifference as when in the shop at their constant labour. the prostrate fair one appeared to endure this with the utmost composure, talking and singing during the whole process; then, with an effort which to the bystanders seemed like some supernatural trial, cast the anvil from off her body, jumping up at the same moment with extreme gaiety, and without the least discomposure of her dress or person. that no trick or collusion could possibly be practised on the occasion was obvious, from the following evidence:--the audience stood promiscuously about the room, among whom were our family and friends; the smiths were utter strangers to the frenchman, but known to us; therefore, the several efforts of strength must have proceeded from the natural and surprising power this foreign dame was possessed of. she next put her naked feet on a red-hot salamander, without receiving the least injury; but this is a feat familiar with us at this time. "here, too, was 'tiddy-dol.' this celebrated vendor of gingerbread, from his eccentricity of character, and extensive dealings in his way, was always hailed as the king of itinerant tradesmen. in his person he was tall, well made, and his features handsome. he affected to dress like a person of rank; white gold-laced suit of clothes, laced ruffled shirt, laced hat and feather, white silk stockings, with the addition of a fine white apron. among his harangues to gain customers, take this as a specimen:--'mary, mary, where are you _now_, mary? i live, when at home, at the second house in little ball street, two steps underground, with a wiscum, riscum, and a why-not. walk in, ladies and gentlemen; my shop is on the second-floor backwards, with a brass knocker at the door. here is your nice gingerbread, your spice gingerbread; it will melt in your mouth like a red-hot brick-bat, and rumble in your inside like punch and his wheelbarrow.' he always finished his address by singing this fag-end of some popular ballad:--ti-tid-dy, ti-ti, ti-tid-dy, ti-ti, ti-tid-dy, ti-ti, tid-dy, did-dy, dol-lol, ti-tid-dy, ti-tid-dy, ti-ti, tid-dy, tid-dy, dol. hence arose his nick-name of 'tiddy-dol.'" in hogarth's picture of the execution of the idle apprentice at tyburn, tiddy-dol is seen holding up a cake of gingerbread, and addressing the crowd in his peculiar style, his costume agreeing with the foregoing description. his proper name was ford, and so well-known was he that, on his once being missed for a week from his usual stand in the haymarket, on the unusual occasion of an excursion to a country fair, a "catch-penny" account of his alleged murder was sold in the streets by thousands. in , as appears from a paragraph in the 'london journal' of may th, "the ground on which may fair formerly stood is marked out for a large square, and several fine streets and houses are to be built upon it." chapter v. bartholomew fair theatricals--lee, the theatrical printer--harper, the comedian--rayner and pullen--fielding, the novelist, a showman--cibber's booth--hippisley, the actor--fire in bartholomew fair--fawkes, the conjuror--royal visit to fielding's booth--yeates, the showman--mrs. pritchard, the actress--southwark fair--tottenham court fair--ryan, the actor--hallam's booth--griffin, the actor--visit of the prince of wales to bartholomew fair--laguerre's booth--heidegger--more theatrical booths--their suppression at bartholomew fair--hogarth at southwark fair--violante, the rope-dancer--cadman, the flying man. the success of the theatrical booths at the london fairs induced lee, a theatrical printer in blue maid alley, southwark, and son-in-law of mrs. mynn, to set up one, which we first hear of at bartholomew fair in , when the popular drama of the _unnatural parents_ was represented in it. lee subsequently took into partnership in his managerial speculation the popular comedian, harper, in conjunction with whom he produced, in , a musical drama with the strange title of the _quakers' opera_, which, as well as the subject, was suggested by the extraordinary popularity of gay's _beggars' opera_, the plot being derived from the adventures of the notorious burglar made famous in our time by mr. ainsworth's romance of 'jack sheppard.' it was adapted for the fairs from a drama published in as _the prison-breaker_, "as intended to be acted at the theatre royal, lincoln's inn fields." fielding, the future novelist, appeared this year, and in several successive years, as a bartholomew fair showman, setting up a theatrical booth in george yard. he was then in his twenty-third year, aristocratically connected and liberally educated, but almost destitute of pecuniary resources, though the son of a general and a judge's daughter, and the great grandson of an earl, while he was as gay as sheridan and as careless as goldsmith. on leaving eton he had studied law two years at leyden, but was obliged to return to england through the failure of the allowance which his father had promised, but was too improvident to supply. finding himself without resources, and becoming acquainted with some of the company at the haymarket, he found the means, in conjunction with reynolds, the actor, to set up a theatrical booth in the locality mentioned, and afterwards, during southwark fair, at the lower end of blue maid alley, on the green. fielding and reynolds drew their company from the haymarket, and produced the _beggars' opera_, with "all the songs and dances, set to music, as performed at the theatre in lincoln's inn fields." their advertisements for southwark fair inform the public that "there is a commodious passage for the quality and coaches through the half moon inn, and care will be taken that there shall be lights, and people to conduct them to their places." in the following year fielding and reynolds had separate shows, the former retaining the eligible site of george yard for bartholomew fair, and producing colley's _beggars' wedding_, an opera in imitation of gay's, which had been originally acted in dublin, and afterwards at the haymarket. reynolds, one of the haymarket company, set up his booth between the hospital gate and the crown tavern, and produced the same piece under the title of _hunter_, that being the name of the principal character. he had the haymarket band and scenery, with ray, from drury lane, in the principal part, and mrs. nokes as tippit. both he and fielding announced hulett for chaunter, the king of the beggars, and continued to do so during the fair; but the comedian could not have acted several times daily in both booths, and as he did not return to the haymarket after the fair, but joined the lincoln's inn fields company, he was probably secured by fielding. bullock, who had now seceded from the lincoln's inn fields company and joined the new establishment in goodman's fields, under the management of odell, also appeared at bartholomew fair this year without a partner, producing _dorastus and faunia_, and an adaptation of doggett's _country wake_ with the new title of _flora_, announcing it, in deference to the new taste, as being "after the manner of the _beggars' opera_." rayner and pullen's company performed, at the black boy inn, near hosier lane, an adaptation of gay's opera, the dashing highwayman being personated by powell, polly by mrs. rayner, and lucy by mrs. pullen. in , fielding had a partner in oates, a drury lane comedian, and again erected his theatre in george yard, which site was retained for him during the whole period of his bartholomew fair experience. they produced a new opera, called the _generous free-mason_, which was written by william rufus chetwood, many years prompter at drury lane. oates personated sebastian, and fielding took the part of clerimont himself. miss oates was maria. after the opera there were "several entertainments of dancing by mons. de luce, mademoiselle de lorme, and others, particularly the wooden shoe dance, perrot and pierette, and the dance of the black joke." reynolds was there again, with the historical drama of _scipio's triumph_ and the pantomime of _harlequin's contrivance_. lee and harper presented _robin hood_, and penkethman and giffard the historical drama of _wat tyler and jack straw_. penkethman had retired from the stage in , and it is doubtful whether he lent his name on this occasion to giffard, who was then lessee of goodman's fields, or the latter had taken the younger penkethman into partnership with him. among the minor shows this year was a collection of natural curiosities, advertised as follows:-- "these are to give notice to all ladies, gentlemen, and others. that at the end of hosier lane, in smithfield, are to be seen, during the time of the fair, two rattle snakes, one a very large size, and rattles that you may hear him at a quarter of a mile almost, and something of musick, that grows on the tails thereof; of divers colours, forms, and shapes, with darts that they extend out of their mouths, about two inches long. they were taken on the mountains of leamea. a fine creature, of a small size, taken in mocha, that burrows under ground. it is of divers colours, and very beautiful. the teeth of a dead rattle snake, to be seen and handled, with the rattles. a sea snail, taken on the coast of india. also, the horn of a flying buck. together with a curious collection of animals and insects from all parts of the world. to be seen without loss of time." bullock did not appear as an individual manager in the following year, having associated himself with cibber, griffin, and hallam. the theatrical booth of which they were joint proprietors stood near hosier lane, where the tragedy of _tamerlane the great_ was presented, the hero being played by hallam, and bajazet by cibber. the entertainment must have been longer than usual, for it comprised a comedy, _the miser_, adapted from _l'avare_ of molière, in which griffin played lovegold, and bullock was cabbage; and a pantomime or ballet, called a _ridotto al fresco_. miller, mills, and oates, whose theatre was over against the hospital gate, presented the _banished general_, a romantic drama, playing the principal parts themselves. oates having joined miller and mills, fielding had for partners this year hippisley and hall, the former of whom appeared at bartholomew fair for the first time. he kept a coffee-house in newcastle court, strand, which was frequented by members of the theatrical profession. chetwood wrote for them a romantic drama called _the emperor of china_, in which the pathetic and the comic elements were blended in a manner to please fair audiences, whose sympathies were engaged by the sub-title, _love in distress and virtue rewarded_. hippisley played shallow, a welsh squire on his travels; hall, his servant, robin booby; young penkethman, sir arthur addleplot; and mrs. egleton, a chambermaid, loveit. a fire occurred this year in one of the smaller booths, and, though little damage was done, the alarm caused so much fright to the wife of fawkes, the conjuror, whose show adjoined the booth in which the fire broke out, as to induce premature parturition. this is the only fire recorded as having occurred in bartholomew fair during the seven centuries of its existence. i have found no bartholomew fair advertisement of lee and harper for this year; but at southwark fair, where their show stood on the bowling green, behind the marshalsea prison, they presented _bateman_, with a variety of singing and dancing, and a pantomimic entertainment called the _harlot's progress_. a change of performance being found necessary, they presented the "celebrated droll" of _jephtha's rash vow_, in which harper played the strangely incongruous part of a captain bluster. "to which," continues the advertisement, "will be added, a new pantomime opera (which the town has lately been in expectation to see perform'd) call'd "the fall of phaeton. wherein is shown the rivalship of phaeton and epaphus; their quarrel about lybia, daughter to king merops, which causes phaeton to go to the palace of the sun, to know if apollo is his father, and for proof of it requires the guidance of his father's chariot, which obtain'd, he ascends in the chariot through the air to light the world; in the course the horses proving unruly go out of their way and set the world on fire; jupiter descends on an eagle, and with his thunder-bolt strikes phaeton out of the chariot into the river po. "the whole intermix'd with comic scenes between punch, harlequin, scaramouch, pierrot, and colombine. "the part of jupiter by mr. hewet; apollo, mr. hulett; phaeton, mr. aston; epaphus, mr. nichols; lybia, mrs. spiller; phathusa, mrs. williamson; lampetia, mrs. canterel; phebe, mrs. spellman; clymena, mrs. fitzgerald. "n.b. we shall begin at ten in the morning and continue playing till ten at night. "n.b. the true book of the droll is printed and sold by g. lee in bluemaid alley, southwark, and all others (not printed by him) are false." fawkes, the conjuror, whose show has been incidentally mentioned, located it, in the intervals between the fairs, in james street, near the haymarket, where he this year performed the marvellous flower trick, by which the conjuror, stodare, made so much of his fame a few years ago at the egyptian hall. fawkes had a partner, pinchbeck, who was as clever a mechanist as the former was a conjuror; and no small portion of the attractiveness of the show was due to pinchbeck's musical clock, his mechanical contrivance for moving pictures, and which he called the venetian machine (something, probably, like the famous cyclorama of the colosseum), and his "artificial view of the world," with dioramic effects. feats of posturing were exhibited between fawkes's conjuring tricks and the exhibition of pinchbeck's ingenious mechanism. in , fielding had hippisley alone as a partner in his theatrical enterprise, and presented the historical drama of _the fall of essex_, followed by an adapted translation (his own work) of _le médecin malgré lui_ of molière, under the title of _the forced physician_. the prince and princess of wales visited fielding's theatre on the th of august, and were so much pleased with the performances that they witnessed both plays a second time. lee and harper presented this year the _siege of bethulia_, "containing the ancient history of judith and holofernes, and the comical humours of rustego and his man terrible." holofernes was represented by mullart, judith by spiller (so say the advertisements; perhaps the prefix "mrs." was inadvertently omitted by the printer), and rustego by harper. as this was the first year in which this curious play was acted by lee and harper's company, the earlier date of , assigned to setchel's print of bartholomew fair, is an obvious error, as the title of this play is therein represented on the front of lee and harper's show. it is not easy to understand how such an error can have obtained currency, it being further proclaimed by the introduction of a peep-show of the siege of gibraltar, which occurred in . setchel's print was a copy of one which adorned a fan fabricated for sale in the fair, and had appended to it a description, ascribed to caulfield, the author of a collection of 'remarkable characters.' the authorship of the descriptive matter is doubtful, however, as it asserts the portrait of fawkes to be the only one in existence; while caulfield, in his brief notice of the conjuror, mentions another and more elaborate one. lee and harper's booth is conspicuously shown in the print, with a picture of the murder of holofernes at the back of the exterior platform, on which are mullart, and (i presume) mrs. spiller, dressed for holofernes and judith, and three others of the company, one in the garb of harlequin, another dancing, and the third blowing a trumpet. judith is costumed in a head-dress of red and blue feathers, laced stomacher, white hanging sleeves, and a flounced crimson skirt; while holofernes wears a flowing robe, edged with gold lace, a helmet and cuirass, and brown buskins. fawkes's show also occupies a conspicuous place with its pictured cloth, representing conjuring and tumbling feats, and fawkes on the platform, doing a conjuring trick, while a harlequin draws attention to him, and a trumpeter bawls through his brazen instrument of torture an invitation to the spectators to "walk up!" near this show is another with a picture of a woman dancing on the tight rope. the scene is filled up with the peep-show before mentioned, a swing of the four-carred kind, a toy-stall, a sausage-stall, and a gin-stall--one of those incentives to vice and disorder which were permitted to be present, perhaps "for the good of trade," when amusements were banished. in , fielding and hippisley's booth again stood in george yard, where they presented the romantic drama of _love and jealousy_, and a ballad opera called _the cure for covetousness_, adapted by fielding from _les fourberies de scapin_ of molière. in this piece mrs. pritchard first won the popularity which secured her an engagement at drury lane for the ensuing season, as, though she had acted before at the haymarket and goodman's fields, she attracted little attention until, in the character of loveit, she sang with salway the duet, "sweet, if you love me, smiling turn," which was received with so much applause that fielding and hippisley had it printed, and distributed copies in the fair by thousands. hippisley played scapin in this opera, and penkethman, announced as the "son of the late facetious mr. william penkethman," old gripe. there was dancing between the acts, and the _ridotto al fresco_ afterwards; and the advertisements add that, "to divert the audience during the filling of the booth, the famous mr. phillips will perform his surprising postures on the stage." the newspapers of the time inform us that they had "crowded audiences," and that "a great number of the nobility intend to honour them with their presence," which they probably did. all classes then went to bartholomew fair, as in pepys' time; the gentleman with the star on his coat in setchel's print was said to be sir robert walpole. cibber, griffin, bullock, and hallam again appeared in partnership, and repeated the performances which they had found attractive in the preceding year. cibber played bajazet in the tragedy, and mrs. charke, his youngest daughter, haly. this lady appeared subsequently on the scene as the proprietress of a puppet-show, and finally as the keeper of a sausage-stall. griffin played lovegold in the _miser_, as he had done the preceding winter at drury lane; but none of the drury actresses performed this year in the fairs, and miss raftor's part of lappet was transferred to mrs. roberts. lee and harper presented _jephtha's rash vow_, in which hulett appeared; and miller, mills, and oates, the tragedy of _jane shore_, in which miss oates personated the heroine; her father, tim hampwell; and chapman, captain blunderbuss. after the tragedy came a new mythological entertainment, called the _garden of venus_; and the advertisements state that, "to entertain the company before the opera begins, there will be a variety of rope-dancing and tumbling by the best performers; particularly the famous italian woman, mademoiselle de reverant and her daughter, who gave such universal satisfaction at the publick act at oxford; the celebrated signor morosini, who never performed in the fair before; mons. jano and others, and tumbling by young river and miss derrum, a child of nine years old." de reverant is not an italian name, and it is to be hoped, for the sake of the lady's good name and the management's sense of decorum, that the prefix of mademoiselle was an error of the printer. jano was a performer at sadler's wells, and other places of amusement in the vicinity of the metropolis, where tea-gardens and music-rooms were now becoming numerous. tottenham court fair, the origin of which i have been unable to trace, emerged from its obscurity this year, when lee and harper, in conjunction with a third partner named petit, set up a show there, behind the king's head, near the hampstead road. the entertainments were _bateman_ and the _ridotto al fresco_. the fair began on the th of august. petit's name is not in the advertisements for southwark fair, where lee and harper gave the same performance as at tottenham court. a new aspirant to popular favour appeared this year on southwark green, namely, yeates's theatrical booth, in which a ballad opera called _the harlot's progress_ was performed, with "yeates, junior's, incomparable dexterity of hand: also a new and glorious prospect, or a lively view of the installation of his royal highness the prince of orange. "note.--at a large room near his booth are to be seen, without any loss of time, two large ostriches, lately arrived from the deserts of arabia, being male and female." fawkes, the conjuror, was now dead, but pinchbeck carried on the show, in conjunction with his late partner's son, and issued the following announcement:-- "_this is to give notice, that mr._ pinchbeck _and_ fawkes, _who have had the honour to perform before the royal family, and most of the nobility and gentry in the kingdom with great applause, during the time of_ southwark fair, _will divert the publick with the following surprising entertainments, at their great theatrical room, at the_ queen's arms, _joining to the_ marshalsea gate. first, the surprising tumbler from frankfort in germany, who shows several astonishing things by the art of tumbling; the like never seen before since the memory of man. secondly, the diverting and incomparable dexterity of hand, performed by mr. pinchbeck, who causes a tree to grow out of a flower-pot on the table, which blossoms and bears ripe fruit in a minute; also a man in a maze, or a perpetual motion, where he makes a little ball to run continually, which would last was it for seven years together only by the word of command. he has several tricks entirely new, which were never done by any other person than himself. third, the famous little posture-master of nine years old, who shows several astonishing postures by activity of body, different from any other posture-master in europe." the fourth and fifth items of the programme were pinchbeck's musical clock and the venetian machine. the advertisement concludes with the announcement that "while the booth is filling, the little posture-master will divert the company with several wonders on the slack rope. beginning every day at ten o'clock in the morning, and ending at ten at night." as pinchbeck now performed the conjuring tricks for which his former partner had been famous, and the latter's son does not appear as a performer, it is probable that young fawkes was merely a sleeping partner in the concern, his father having accumulated by the exercise of his profession, a capital of ten thousand pounds. it was in this year that highmore, actuated by the spirit which in recent times has prompted the prosecution of music-hall proprietors by theatrical managers, swore an information against harper as an offender under the vagrancy act, which condemned strolling players to the same penalties as wandering ballad-singers and sturdy beggars. why, it may be asked, was harper selected as the scape-goat of all the comedians who performed in the london fairs, and among whom were cibber, bullock, hippisley, hallam, ryan, laguerre, chapman, hall, and other leading actors of the theatres royal? there is no evidence of personal animosity against harper on highmore's part, but it is not much to the latter's credit that he was supposed to have selected for a victim a man who was thought to be timid enough to be frightened into submission. harper was arrested on the th november, and taken before a magistrate, by whom he was committed to bridewell, as a vagrant, on evidence being given that he had performed at bartholomew and southwark fairs, and also at drury lane. he appealed against the decision, and the cause was tried in the court of king's bench, before the lord chief justice, on the th. eminent counsel were retained on both sides, the prosecution insisting that the appellant had brought himself under the operation of the vagrancy act by "wandering from place to place" in the exercise of his vocation; and counsel for the appellant contending that, as harper was a householder of westminster and a freeholder of surrey, it was ridiculous to represent him as a vagabond, or to pretend that he was likely to become chargeable as a pauper to the parish in which he resided. "my client," said his counsel, "is an honest man, who pays his debts, and injures no man, and is well esteemed by many gentlemen of good condition." the result was, that harper was discharged on his own recognizances to be of good conduct, and left westminster hall amidst the acclamations of several hundreds of persons, whom his popularity had caused to assemble. in the following year, the managerial arrangements for the fairs again received considerable modification. the partnership of miller, mills, and oates was dissolved, and the last-named actor again joined fielding, while hippisley joined bullock and hallam, and hall formed a new combination with ryan, laguerre, and chapman. harper's partnership with lee was dissolved by the latter's death, and the fear of having his recognizances estreated seems to have prevented him from appearing at the fairs. fielding and oates presented _don carlos_ and the ballad opera of _the constant lovers_, in which oates played ragout, his daughter arabella, and mrs. pritchard, in grateful remembrance of her bartholomew fair triumph of the preceding year, chloe. hippisley, bullock, and hallam presented _fair rosamond_, followed by _the impostor_, in which vizard was played by hippisley, balderdash by bullock, and solomon smack by hallam's son. during the last week of the fair, hippisley gave, as an interlude, his diverting medley in the character of a drunken man, for which impersonation he was long as celebrated as harper was for a similar representation. ryan, laguerre, chapman, and hall gave what appears a long programme for a fair, and suggests more than the ordinary amount of "cutting down." the performances commenced with _don john_, in which the libertine prince was played by ryan, and jacomo by chapman. after the tragedy came a ballad opera, _the barren island_, in which hall played the boatswain, laguerre the gunner, and penkethman the coxswain. the performances concluded with a farce, _the farrier nicked_, in which laguerre was merry, penkethman the farrier's man, and hall an ale-wife. at southwark fair this year, lee's booth, now conducted by his widow, stood in axe and bottle yard, and presented the _siege of troy_, "which," says the advertisement, "in its decorations, machinery, and paintings, far exceeds anything of the like kind that ever was seen in the fairs before, the scenes and clothes being entirely new. all the parts to be performed to the best advantage, by persons from the theatres. the part of paris by mr. hulett; king menelaus, mr. roberts; ulysses, mr. aston; simon, mr. hind; captain of the guard, mr. mackenzie; bustle the cobler, mr. morgan; butcher, mr. pearce; taylor, mr. hicks; cassandra, mrs. spiller; venus, mrs. lacy; helen, mrs. purden; cobler's wife, mrs. morgan. with several entertainments of singing and dancing by the best masters. "n.b. there being a puppet-show in mermaid court, leading down to the green, called _the siege of troy_; these are to forewarn the publick, that they may not be imposed on by counterfeits, the only celebrated droll of that kind was first brought to perfection by the late famous mrs. mynns, and can only be performed by her daughter, mrs. lee." mrs. lee seems to have had a formidable rival in another theatrical booth, which appeared anonymously, and from this circumstance, combined with the fact of its occupying the site on which lee and harper's canvas theatre had stood for several successive years, may not unreasonably be regarded as the venture of harper. all i have found concerning it is the bill, which, as being a good specimen of the announcements issued by the proprietors of the theatrical booths attending the london fairs, is given entire. "_at the great_ theatrical booth on the bowling-green behind the marshalsea, down mermaid-court next the queen's-arms tavern, during the time of southwark fair, (which began the th instant and ends the st), will be presented that diverting droll call'd, _the true and ancient history of_ maudlin, _the merchant's daughter_ of bristol, and _her constant lover_ antonio, who she follow'd into italy, disguising herself in man's habit; shewing the hardships she underwent by being shipwreck'd on the coast of algier, where she met her lover, who was doom'd to be burnt at a stake by the king of that country, who fell in love with her and proffer'd her his crown, which she despised, and chose rather to share the fate of her antonio than renounce the christian religion to embrace that of their impostor prophet, mahomet. with the comical humours of _roger_, antonio's man, and variety of singing and dancing between the acts by mr. sandham, mrs. woodward, and miss sandham. "particularly, a new dialogue to be sung by mr. excell and mrs. fitzgerald. written by the author of _bacchus one day gaily striding_, &c. and a hornpipe by mr. taylor. to which will be added a new entertainment (never perform'd before) called the intriguing harlequin or any wife better than none. with scenes, machines, and other decorations proper to the entertainment." pinchbeck and fawkes had a booth this year on the bowling green, where the entertainments of the preceding year were repeated, the little posturer being again announced as only nine years of age. pinchbeck had a shop in fleet street at this time, (mentioned in the thirty-fifth number of the 'adventurer'), and, perhaps, an interest in the wax figures exhibited by fawkes at the old tennis court, as "the so much famed piece of machinery, consisting of large artificial wax figures five foot high, which have all the just motions and gestures of human life, and have been for several years shewn at bath and tunbridge wells, and no where else, except this time two years at the opera room in the haymarket; and by them will be presented the comical tragedy of _tom thumb_. with several scenes out of _the tragedy of tragedies_, and dancing between the acts. to which will be added, an entertainment of dancing called _the necromancer: or, harlequin dr. faustus_, with the fairy song and dance. the clothes, scenes, and decorations are entirely new. the doors to be opened at four, and to begin at six o'clock. pit s. d. gallery s. tickets to be had at mr. chenevix's toy-shop, over against suffolk street, charing cross; at the tennis court coffee house; at mr. edward pinchbeck's, at the musical clock in fleet street; at mr. smith's, a perfumer, at the civet cat in new bond street near hanover square; at the little man's fan-shop in st. james's street." fawkes and pinchbeck seem to have speculated in exhibitions and entertainments of various descriptions, for besides this marionette performance and the conjuring show, there seems to have been another show, which appeared at bartholomew fair this year, as their joint enterprise, and for which fielding wrote a dramatic trifle called _the humours of covent garden_. it was probably a performance of puppets, like that at the old tennis court. the licences granted by the corporation for mountebanks, conjurors, and others, to exercise their avocations at bartholomew fair had hitherto extended to fourteen days; but in the court of aldermen resolved--"that bartholomew fair shall not exceed bartholomew eve, bartholomew day, and the next morrow, and shall be restricted to the sale of goods, wares, and merchandises, usually sold in fairs, and no acting shall be permitted therein." there were, therefore, no shows this year; and, as the licensing act had rendered all unlicensed entertainers liable to the pains and penalties of vagrancy, and sir john barnard was known to be determined to suppress all such "idle amusements" as dancing, singing, tumbling, juggling, and the like, the toymen, the vendors of gingerbread, the purveyors of sausages, and the gin-stalls had the fair to themselves. there seems no evidence, however, that there was less disorder, or less indulgence in vice, in bartholomew fair this year than on former occasions. "lady holland's mob," as the concourse of roughs was called which anticipated the official proclamation of the fair by swarming through the streets adjacent to smithfield on the previous night, assembled as usual, shouting, ringing bells, and breaking lamps, as had been the annual wont from the time of the long parliament, though the association of lady holland's name with these riotous proceedings is a mystery which i have not been able to unravel. nor is there any reason for supposing that drunkenness was banished from the fair with the shows; for, though it is probable that a much smaller number of persons resorted to smithfield, it is certain that gin-stalls constituted a greater temptation to excessive indulgence in alcoholic fluids, in the absence of all means of amusement, than the larger numbers that visited the shows were exposed to. the idea of promoting temperance by depriving the people of the choice between the public-house and the theatre or music-hall is the most absurd that has ever been conceived. it was on the th of march, in this year, that ryan, the comedian and bartholomew fair theatrical manager, was attacked at midnight, in great queen street, by a footpad, who fired a pistol in his face, inflicting injuries which deprived him of consciousness, and then robbed him of his sword, which, however, was afterwards picked up in the street. ryan was carried home, and attended by a surgeon, who found his jaws shattered, and several teeth dislodged. a performance was given at covent garden for his benefit on the th, when he had a crowded house, and the play was the _provoked husband_, with hallam as lord townly, and the farce the _school for women_, which was new, in the robertsonian sense, being adapted from molière. hippisley played in it. the prince of wales was prevented by a prior engagement from attending, but he sent ryan a hundred guineas. the wounded actor was unable to perform until the th of april, when he re-appeared as bellair in a new comedy, popple's _double deceit_, in which sir william courtlove was personated by hippisley, gayliffe by hallam, and jerry by chapman. smithfield presented its wonted fair aspect on the eve of bartholomew, , the civic authorities having seen the error of their ways, and testified their sense thereof by again permitting shows to be erected. hippisley joined fielding this year, and they presented _don carlos_ and the _cheats of scapin_, mrs. pritchard re-appearing in the character of loveit. hallam and chapman joined in partnership, and produced _fair rosamond_ and a ballad opera. fielding had at this time an income of two hundred a year, besides what he derived from translating and adapting french plays for the london stage, and the profits of his annual speculation in smithfield. but, if he had had three times as much, he would have been always in debt, and occasionally in difficulties. besides being careless and extravagant in his expenditure, he was generous to a fault. his pocket was at all times a bank upon which friendship or distress might draw. one illustration of this trait in his character i found in an old collection of anecdotes published in . some parochial taxes for his house in beaufort buildings, in the strand, being unpaid, and repeated application for payment having been made in vain, he was at last informed by the collector that further procrastination would be productive of unpleasant consequences. in this dilemma, fielding, having no money, obtained ten or twelves guineas of tonson, on account of some literary work which he had then in hand. he was returning to beaufort buildings, jingling his guineas, when he met in the strand an eton chum, whom he had not seen for several years. question and answer followed quickly as the friends shook each other's hands with beaming eyes, and then they adjourned to a tavern, where fielding ordered dinner, that they might talk over old times. care was given to the winds, and the hours flew on unthought of, as the showman and his old schoolfellow partook of "the feast of reason, and the flow of soul." fielding's friend was "hard up," and the fact was no sooner divulged than his purse received the greater part of the money for which the future novelist had pledged sheets of manuscript as yet unwritten. it was past midnight when fielding, raised by wine and friendship to the seventh heaven, reached home. in reply to the questions of his sister, who had anxiously awaited his coming, as to the cause of his long absence, he related his felicitous meeting with his former chum. "but, harry," said amelia, "the collector has called twice for the rates." thus brought down to earth again, fielding looked grave; it was the first time he had thought of the rates since leaving tonson's shop, and he had spent at the tavern all that he had not given to his friend. but his gravity was only of a moment's duration. "friendship," said he, "has called for the money, and had it; let the collector call again." a second application to tonson enabled him, however, to satisfy the demands of the parish as well as those of friendship. it was in this year that the act for licensing plays was passed, the occasion--perhaps i should say, the pretext--being the performance of fielding's burlesque, _pasquin_. ministers had had their eyes upon the stage for some time, and it must be admitted that the political allusions that were indulged in on the stage were strong, and often spiced with personalities that would not be tolerated at the present day. it is doubtful, however, whether the act would have passed the house of commons, but for the folly of giffard, manager of goodman's fields, and sometimes of a booth in bartholomew fair. he had a burlesque offered him, called the _golden princess_, so full of gross abuse of parliament, the privy council, and even the king, that, impelled by loyalty, and suspecting no ulterior aims or sinister intention, he waited upon sir robert walpole, and laid before him the dreadful manuscript. the minister praised giffard for his loyalty, while he must have inwardly chuckled at the egregious folly and mental short-sightedness that could be so easily led into such a blunder. he purchased the manuscript, and made such effective use of it in the house of commons that parliament was as completely gulled as giffard had been, and the dramatic licensing bill became law. in the following year, hallam appeared at bartholomew fair without a partner, setting up his show over against the gate of the hospital, and presenting a medley entertainment, comprising, as set forth in the bills, "the surprising performances of m. jano, m. raynard, m. baudouin, and mynheer vander huff. also a variety of rope-dancers, tumblers, posture-masters, balance-masters, and comic dancers; being a set of the very best performers that way in europe. the comic dances to be performed by m. jano, m. baudouin, m. peters, and mr. thompson; madlle. de frano, madlle. le roy, mrs. dancey, and miss dancey. to which will be added, the italian shadows, performed by the best masters from italy, which have not been seen these twenty years. the whole to conclude with a grand ballet dance, called _le badinage champêtre_. with a complete band of music of hautboys, violins, trumpets, and kettle-drums. all the decorations entirely new. to begin every day at one o'clock, and continue till eleven at night." close to this booth was yeates's, in which _the lover his own rival_ was performed by wax figures, nearly as large as life, after which yeates's son performed some juggling feats, and a youth whose name does not appear in the bills gave an acrobatic performance. in , hallam's booth occupied the former site of fielding's, in george yard, the entertainment consisted of the operatic burlesque, _the dragon of wantley_, performed by the lilliputian company from drury lane. during the filling of the booth a posturing performance was given by m. rapinese. "the passage to the booth," says the advertisements, "is commodiously illuminated by several large moons and lanthorns, for the conveniency of the company, and that persons of quality's coaches may drive up the yard." penkethman had this year a booth, where hallam's had stood the preceding year, and presented _the man's bewitched_ and _the country wedding_. hallam's booth attended tottenham court fair this year, standing near the turnpike, and presenting a new entertainment called _the mad lovers_. at southwark fair lee's theatrical booth stood on the bowling-green, and presented _merlin, the british enchanter_, and _the country farmer_, concluding with a mimic pageant representing the lord mayor's procession in the old times. in , bartholomew fair was extended to four days, and there was a proportionately larger attendance of theatrical booths. hallam's stood over against the hospital gate, and presented the pantomime of _harlequin turned philosopher_ and the farce of _the sailor's wedding_, with singing and dancing. hippisley, chapman, and legar had a booth in george yard, where they produced _the top of the tree_, in which a famous dog scene was introduced, and the mythological pantomime of _perseus and andromeda_. bullock, who had made his last appearance at covent garden in the preceding april, had the largest booth in the fair, and assumed the part of judge balance in a new pantomimic entertainment called _the escapes of harlequin by sea and land_, which was preceded by a variety of humorous songs and dances. phillips, a comedian from drury lane, joined mrs. lee this year in a booth at the corner of hosier lane, where they presented a medley entertainment, comprising the "grand scene" of _cupid and psyche_, a scaramouch dance by phillips and others (said to have been given, with great applause, on forty successive nights, at the opera, paris), a dialogue between punch and columbine, a scene of a drunken peasant by phillips, and a pantomimic entertainment called _columbine courtesan_, in which the parts of harlequin and columbine were sustained by phillips and his wife. in , hallam, whose show stood opposite the hospital gate, presented _the rambling lover_; and yeates, whose booth was next to hallam's, the pantomime of _orpheus and eurydice_. the growing taste for pantomime, which is sufficiently attested by the play-bills of the period, induced hippisley and chapman, whose booth stood in george yard, to present, instead of a tragedy or comedy, a pantomime called _harlequin scapin_, in which the popular embodiment of molière's humour was adapted with success to pantomimic requirements. hippisley played scapin, chapman was tim, and yates, who made his first appearance at bartholomew fair, slyboots. after the pantomime came singing and dancing by oates, yates, mrs. phillips, and others, "particularly a new whimsical and diverting dance called the spanish beauties." the performances concluded with a new musical entertainment called _the parting lovers_. fawkes and pinchbeck also had a theatrical booth this year in conjunction with a partner named terwin. this year the fair was visited again by the prince of wales, of which incident an account appeared many years afterwards in the 'new european magazine.' the shows were all in full blast and the crowd at its thickest, when, says the narrator, "the multitude behind was impelled violently forwards; a broad blaze of red light, issuing from a score of flambeaux, streamed into the air; several voices were loudly shouting, 'room there for prince george! make way for the prince!' and there was that long sweep heard to pass over the ground which indicates the approach of a grand and ceremonious train. presently the pressure became much greater, the voices louder, the light stronger, and as the train came onward, it might be seen that it consisted, firstly, of a party of the yeomen of the guard, clearing the way; then several more of them bearing flambeaux, and flanking the procession; while in the midst of all appeared a tall, fair, and handsome young man, having something of a plump foreign visage, seemingly about four and thirty, dressed in a ruby-coloured frock-coat, very richly guarded with gold lace, and having his long flowing hair curiously curled over his forehead and at the sides, and finished with a very large bag and courtly queue behind. the air of dignity with which he walked, the blue ribbon and star and garter with which he was decorated, the small three-cornered silk court hat which he wore, whilst all around him were uncovered; the numerous suite, as well of gentlemen as of guards, which marshalled him along, the obsequious attention of a short stout person, who, by his flourishing manner seemed to be a player,--all these particulars indicated that the amiable frederick, prince of wales, was visiting bartholomew fair by torch-light, and that manager rich was introducing his royal guest to all the entertainments of the place. "however strange this circumstance may appear to the present generation, yet it is nevertheless strictly true; for about , when the drolls in smithfield were extended to three weeks and a month, it was not considered as derogatory to persons of the first rank and fashion to partake in the broad humour and theatrical amusements of the place. it should also be remembered, that many an eminent performer of the last century unfolded his abilities in a booth; and that it was once considered as an important and excellent preparation to their treading the boards of a theatre royal." the narrator then proceeds to describe the duties of the leading actor in a bartholomew fair theatre, from which account there is some deduction to be made for the errors and exaggerations of a person writing long after the times which he undertakes to describe, and who was not very careful in his researches, as the statement that the fair then lasted three weeks or a month sufficiently attests. the picture which he gives was evidently drawn from his knowledge of the richardsonian era, which he endeavoured to make fit into the bartholomew fair experiences of the very different showmen of the reign of george ii. "i will," he says, assuming the character of an actor of the period he describes, "as we say, take you behind the scenes. first, then, an actor must sleep in the pit, and wake early to throw fresh sawdust into the boxes; he must shake out the dresses, and wind up the motion-jacks; he must teach the dull ones how to act, rout up the idlers from the straw, and redeem those that happen to get into the watch-house. then, sir, when the fair begins, he should sometimes walk about the stage grandly, and show his dress; sometimes he should dance with his fellows; sometimes he should sing; sometimes he should blow the trumpet; sometimes he should laugh and joke with the crowd, and give them a kind of a touch-and-go speech, which keeps them merry, and makes them come in. then, sir, he should sometimes cover his state robe with a great coat, and go into the crowd, and shout opposite his own booth, like a stranger who is struck with its magnificence: by the way, sir, that's a good trick,--i never knew it fail to make an audience; and then he has only to steal away, mount his stage, and strut, and dance, and sing, and trumpet, and roar over again." griffin and harper drop out of the list of showmen at the london fairs in this year. griffin appeared at drury lane for the last time on the th of february, and died soon afterwards, with the character of a worthy man and an excellent actor. he made his first appearance at lincoln's inn fields, as sterling in _the perplexed lovers_, in . harper, the jolly, facetious low comedian, suffered an attack of paralysis towards the close of , and, though he survived till , he never appeared again on the stage. in the following year, hippisley and chapman presented _a devil of a duke_; and hallam relied for success upon _fair rosamond_. lee and woodward, whose booth stood opposite the hospital gate, produced _darius, king of persia_, "with the comical humours of sir andrew aguecheek at the siege of babylon." anachronisms of this kind were common at theatrical booths in those days, when comic englishmen of one type or another were constantly introduced, without regard to the scene or the period of the drama to be represented. audiences were not sufficiently educated to be critical in such matters, and managers could plead the example of shakspeare, who was then esteemed a greater authority than he is considered to be at the present day. yates made his first appearance as a showman this year, in partnership with turbutt, who set up a booth opposite the king's head, and produced a pantomime called _thamas kouli khan_, founded on recent news from the east. an epilogue, in the character of a drunken english sailor, was spoken by yates, of whom churchill wrote,-- "in characters of low and vulgar mould, where nature's coarsest features we behold where, destitute of every decent grace, unmanner'd jests are blurted in your face; there yates with justice strict attention draws, acts truly from himself, and gains applause." there was a second and smaller booth in the name of hallam, in which tumbling and rope-dancing were performed; but whether belonging to the actor or to another showman of the same name is uncertain. fawkes and pinchbeck exhibited the latter's model of the siege of carthagena, with which a comic dramatic performance was combined. the office of master of the revels was held at this time by heidegger, a native of zurich, who was also manager of the italian opera. he was one of the most singular characters of the time, and as remarkable for his personal ugliness as for the eccentricity of his manners. the profanity of his language was less notable in that age than his candour. supping on one occasion with a party of gentlemen of rank, the comparative ingenuity of different nations became the theme of conversation, when the first place was claimed by heidegger for his compatriots. "i am myself a proof of what i assert," said he. "i was born a swiss, and came to england without a farthing, where i have found means to gain five thousand a year and to spend it. now, i defy the most able englishman to go to switzerland and either to gain that income, or to spend it there." he was never averse to a joke upon his own ugliness, and once made a wager with lord chesterfield that the latter would not be able, within a certain given time, to produce a more ugly man in all london. the time elapsed; and heidegger won the wager. yet he could never be persuaded to have his portrait painted, even though requested by the king, and urged by all his friends to comply with the royal wish. the facetious duke of montagu, the concoctor of the memorable bottle-conjuror hoax at the haymarket, had recourse to stratagem to obtain heidegger's likeness, which afterwards gave rise to a laughable adventure. he gave a dinner at the devil tavern, near temple bar, to several of his friends and acquaintances, selecting those whom he knew to be the least accessible to the effects of wine, and the most likely to indulge in vinous conviviality. heidegger was one of the guests, and, in a few hours after dinner, became so very much inebriated that he was carried out of the room in a state of insensibility, and laid upon a bed. an artist in wax, a daughter of the famous mrs. salmon, was ready to play her part in the plot, and quickly made a mould of heidegger's face in plaster. from this a mask was made; and all that remained to be done was to learn from his valet what clothes he would wear on a certain night, and procure a similar suit and a man of the same stature. all this the duke accomplished before a masked ball took place, at which the king had promised to be present, and the band of the opera house was to play in a gallery. the night came; and as the king entered, accompanied by the countess of yarmouth, heidegger directed the band to play the national anthem. he had scarcely turned his back, however, when the counterfeit heidegger told them to play "charlie over the water." consternation fell upon all the assembly at the sound of the treasonable strains; everybody looked at everybody else, wondering what the playing of a jacobite air in the presence of the king might presage. heidegger ran to the orchestra, and swore, stamped, and raved, accusing the musicians of being drunk, or of being bribed by some secret enemy to bring about his ruin. the treasonable melody ceased, and the loyal strains of the national anthem saluted the royal ears. heidegger had no sooner left the room, however, than his double stepped forward, and standing before the music-gallery, swore at the musicians as heidegger had done, imitating his voice, and again directed them to play "charlie over the water." the musicians, knowing his eccentricity, and likewise his addiction to inebriety, shrugged their shoulders, and obeyed. some officers of the guards resented the affront to the king by attempting to ascend to the gallery for the purpose of kicking the musicians out; but the duke of cumberland, who, as well as the king and his fair companion, was in the plot, interposed and calmed them. the company were thrown into confusion, however, and cries of "shame! shame!" arose on every side. heidegger, bursting with rage, again rushed in, and began to rave and swear at the musicians. the music ceased; and the duke of montagu persuaded heidegger to go to the king, and make an apology for the band, representing that his majesty was very angry. the counterfeit heidegger immediately took the same course, and, as soon as heidegger had made the best apology his agitation would permit, the former stepped to his side and said, "indeed, sire, it was not my fault, but that devil's in my likeness." heidegger faced about, pale and speechless, staring with widely dilated eyes at his double. the duke of montagu then told the latter to take off his mask, and the frolic ended; but heidegger swore that he would never attend any public entertainment again, unless that witch, the wax-work woman, broke the mould and melted the mask before him. in , the first place in bartholomew fair was again held, but for the last time, by hippisley and chapman, who revived the ever-popular scapin in what they called "the most humorous and diverting droll, called _scaramouch scapin_ or the _old miser caught in a sack_," the managers playing the same characters as in . hallam had made his last appearance at the fair in the preceding year, and his booth was now held by turbutt and yates, who set it up opposite the hospital gate, and produced _the loves of king edward iv. and jane shore_. yates personated sir anthony lackbrains, turbutt was captain blunderbuss, and mrs. yates, flora. a new aspirant to public favour appeared in goodwin, whose booth stood opposite the white hart, near cow lane, and presented a three act comedy, called _the intriguing footman_, followed by a pantomimic entertainment "between a soldier, a sailor, a tinker, a tailor, and buxom joan of deptford." fawkes and pinchbeck announced that "punch's celebrated company of comical tragedians from the haymarket," would perform _the tragedy of tragedies_, "being the most comical and whimsical tragedy that was ever tragedized by any tragical company of comedians, called _the humours of covent garden_, by henry fielding, esq." in , the erection of theatrical booths in smithfield was prohibited by a resolution of the court of aldermen, and the interdict was repeated in the following year. the prohibition did not extend to southwark fair, however, though held by the corporation; for yates was there in the former year, with a strong company from the theatres royal playing _love for love_, with woodward as tattle, macklin as ben, arthur as foresight, mrs. yates as mrs. frail, and miss bradshaw as miss prue. the after-piece was _the lying valet_, in which yates appeared as sharp, and his wife as kitty pry. it was in that the famous turkish wire-walker appeared at bartholomew fair, where he performed without a balancing-pole, at the height of thirty-five feet. he juggled while on the wire with what were supposed to be oranges; but this feat lost much of its marvellousness on his dropping one of them, which revealed by the sound that it was a painted ball of lead. he had formidable rivals in the celebrated violantes, man and wife, the latter of whom far exceeded in skill and daring the famous dutch woman of the latter years of the seventeenth century. these italian _artistes_, like the turk, performed at a considerable height, which, while it does not require greater skill, gives the performance a much more sensational character. violante is the slack-rope performer introduced by hogarth in his picture of southwark fair. the following feat is recorded of the _artiste_ by malcolm, in his 'londinium redivivus,' in connection with the building of the church of st. martin-in-the-fields:--"soon after the completion of the steeple, an adventurous italian, named violante, descended from the arches, head foremost, on a rope stretched across st. martin's lane to the royal mews; the princesses being present, and many eminent persons." hogarth has introduced, in the background of his picture, another performer of this feat, namely, cadman, who lost his life in in an attempt to descend from a church steeple in shrewsbury. the epitaph on his gravestone sets forth the circumstances of the catastrophe as follows:-- "let this small monument record the name of cadman, and to future times proclaim here, by an attempt to fly from this high spire, across the sabrine stream, he did acquire his fatal end. 'twas not for want of skill, or courage to perform the task, he fell: no, no--a faulty cord, being drawn too tight, hurried his soul on high to take her flight, which bid the body here beneath good night." the fairs of london were in the zenith of their fame during the period embraced in this chapter. during the second quarter of the eighteenth century, they were resorted to by all classes of the people, even by royalty; and the theatrical booths by which they were attended boasted the best talent in the profession. they were not only regarded as the nurseries of histrionic ability, as the provincial theatres afterwards came to be regarded, but witnessed the efforts to please of the best actors of the london theatres, when in the noon of their success and popularity. cibber, quin, macklin, woodward, shuter, did not disdain to appear before a bartholomew fair audience, nor fielding to furnish them with the early gushings of his humour. the inimitable hogarth made the light of his peculiar genius shine upon them, and the memories of the old showmen are preserved in more than one of his pictures. chapter vi. a new race of showmen--yeates, the conjuror--the turkish rope-walker--pan and the oronutu savage--the corsican fairy--perry's menagerie--the riobiscay and the double cow--a mermaid at the fairs--garrick at bartholomew fair--yates's theatrical booth--dwarfs and giants--the female samson--riots at bartholomew fair--ballard's animal comedians--evans, the wire-walker--southwark fair--wax-work show--shuter, the comedian--bisset, the animal trainer--powell, the fire-eater--roger smith, the bell-player--suppression of southwark fair. the limitation of bartholomew fair to three days, and the interdiction of theatrical booths in two successive years, was a serious blow, regarding the matter from the professional point of view, to the interests of the fair. though actors worked hard during the twelve or eighteen days of the fair, they earned higher salaries during that time than they would have received at the theatres, and looked forward to bartholomew-tide as the labourer to harvest. though the theatres remained open during the fair when theatrical booths and puppet-shows were interdicted by the court of aldermen, actors missed their extra earnings, and managers found their receipts considerably diminished. in these we have only a passing interest; but the glory of the fairs began to wane when the great actors ceased to appear on the boards of the canvas theatres, for the nobility and gentry withdrew their patronage when the luminaries of drury lane and covent garden were no longer to be seen, and fairs began to be voted low by persons of rank and fashion. the removal of the interdict on theatrical booths had little or no effect in arresting the progress of the decadence which had commenced; for the three days to which bartholomew fair remained limited did not afford to actors engaged at the london theatres, opportunities for earning money sufficient to induce them to set up a portable theatre, which, except for southwark fair, they could not use again until the following year. the case was very different when the fair lasted two or three weeks, and the theatres were closed during the time; but when its duration was contracted to three days, the attendance of a theatrical company could be made remunerative only for inferior _artistes_ who strolled all through the year from one fair to another. towards the middle of the last century, therefore, a new race of showmen came prominently before the visitors to the london fairs, and two or three only of the names familiar to fair audiences afterwards re-appeared in the bills of the temporary theatres. even these had, with the exception of mrs. lee, come into notice only since the fair, by being limited to three days, had lost its attractiveness for actors of the theatres royal. the site made famous by fielding was occupied in by a new manager, hussey, who presented a drama of shakspeare's (without announcing the title), sandwich-like, between the two parts of a vocal and instrumental concert, concluding the entertainment with a pantomime called _the schemes of harlequin_, in which rayner was harlequin, and his daughter, who did a tight-rope performance, probably columbine. rayner was an acrobat at sadler's wells, where his daughter danced on the tight rope. the pantomime concluded with a chorus in praise of the duke of cumberland, whose victory at culloden in the preceding year had finally crushed the hopes of the disaffected jacobites. the younger yeates joined mrs. lee in a theatrical booth facing the hospital gate, where they presented _love in a labyrinth_, a musical entertainment called _harlequin invader_, and "stiff and slack rope-dancing by the famous dutch woman." this can scarcely be the woman who did such wonders on the rope about the time of the revolution, though madame saqui performed on the rope at a very advanced age; she may have been the same, for she does not appear again, but, considering that she is spoken of as a woman at the time of her first appearance in england, it is more probable that the rope-dancer of mrs. lee's booth was another dutch woman, perhaps a daughter of the elder and more famous performer. adjoining mrs. lee's booth was one of which warner and fawkes were the proprietors, and in which a drama called _the happy hero_ was performed, followed by a musical entertainment called _harlequin incendiary_, in which the parts of harlequin and columbine were sustained by a couple named cushing, who afterwards appeared at covent garden. warner personated clodpole, a humorous rustic. not to be outdone in loyalty by hussey, he concluded the performance by singing a song in praise of the victor of culloden. entertainers are, as a class, loyal, under whatever dynasty or form of government they live, providing that it does not interfere with the exercise of their profession; and in this instance their sympathies accorded with the popular political creed. in the following year, hussey's booth again stood in george yard, and presented _tamerlane the great_, with singing and "several curious equilibres on the slack rope by mahomet achmed vizaro mussulmo, a turk just arrived from constantinople, who not only balances without a pole, but also plays a variety of excellent airs on the violin when on the slack rope, which none can perform in england but himself." though said to have just arrived from constantinople, this turk was probably the same that had performed at bartholomew fair three years previously. warner disconnected himself from fawkes this year, and joined yeates and mrs. lee, whose booth stood in the same position as before, presenting the _siege of troy_, and an entertainment of singing and dancing. adjoining it stood a new show, owned by godwin and reynolds, with "a curious collection of wax-work figures, being the richest and most beautiful in england;" and a panoramic view of the world, "particularly an accurate and beautiful prospect of bergen-op-zoom, together with its fortifications and adjacent forts, and an exact representation of the french besieging it, and the dutch defending it from their batteries, etc." the movements of this exhibition were effected by clock-work. opposite the greyhound was another new venture, chettle's, in which a pantomimic entertainment called _frolicsome lasses_ was presented, with singing and dancing between the acts, and a display of fireworks at the end. the only theatrical booth at southwark fair this year seems to have been mrs. lee's, in which the entertainments were the same as at bartholomew fair. in mermaid lane was exhibited "the strange and wonderful monstrous production of nature, a sea-elephant head, having forty-six teeth, some of them ten inches long, fluted, and turning up like a ram's horn." the shows increased in number and variety, though the theatrical booths could no longer boast of the great names of former years. george yard was occupied in by a new theatre, owned by bridges, cross, barton, and vaughan, from the theatres royal, who availed of the interest created by recent events to present a new historical drama called _the northern heroes_, followed by dancing and a farce called _the volunteers_, founded on the 'adventures of roderick random.' smollett was now running fielding hard in the race of fame, and the new managers were keen in turning his popularity to account for their own interests. this booth was the most important one in the fair, and the charge for admission ranged from sixpence to half-a-crown. hussey's booth, at which the prices ranged from sixpence to two shillings, stood opposite the gate of the hospital. the entertainments consisted of the comedy of _the constant quaker_, singing and dancing, including "a new dance called punch's maggot, or foote's vagaries," and a pantomime called _harlequin's frolics_. in lee and yeates's booth, opposite the greyhound, _the unnatural parents_ was revived, "shewing the manner of her (the heroine) being forced to wander from home by the cruelty of her parents, and beg her bread; and being weary, fell into a slumber, in a grove, where a goddess appears to her, and directs her to a nobleman's house; how she was there taken in as a servant, and at length, for her beauty and modest behaviour, married to a gentleman of great fortune, with her return to her parents, and their happy reconciliation. also the comical humours and adventures of trusty, her father's man, and the three witches." then follow the _dramatis personæ_, which show a strong company. "with the original dance performed by three wild cats of the wood. with dancing between the acts by mr. adams and mrs. ogden. a good band of music is provided, consisting of kettle-drums, trumpets, french horns, hautboys, violins, etc. to begin each day at twelve o'clock. the scenes and clothes are entirely new, and the droll the same that was performed by mrs. lee fifteen years ago, with great applause." near cow lane stood another new theatrical booth, that of cousins and reynolds, at which the charges for admission ranged from threepence to a shilling. here the romantic drama of _the blind beggar of bethnal green_ was presented, with dancing between the acts, an exhibition of life-size wax figures, representing the court of maria theresa, and the performance of the italian sword-dancers, "who have had the honour of performing before the prince of wales, with great applause." among the minor shows was one at "the first house on the pavement, from the end of hosier lane," where the sights to be seen were a camel, a hyæna, a panther, "the wonderful and surprising satyr, call'd by latin authors, pan," and a "young oronutu savage." on the pavement, at the end of cow lane, was a smaller show, the charge for admission to which was threepence, consisting of a large hog, said to weigh a hundred and twenty stones, and announced as "the greatest prodigy in nature;" and an "amazing little dwarf, being the smallest man in the world." bartholomew fair was visited this year for the first time by the female dwarf who obtained such wide-spread celebrity as the corsican fairy. it will be seen from the following copy of the bill issued by her exhibitors that she was not shown in a booth, but in a room hired for the purpose:-- "to the nobility and gentry, and to all who are admirers of the extraordinary productions of nature. "there is to be seen in a commodious apartment, at the corner of cow lane, facing the sheep-pens, west smithfield, during the short time of bartholomew fair, maria teresia, the amazing corsican fairy, who has had the honour of being shown three times before their majesties. "[pointing hand] she was exhibited in cockspur street, haymarket, at two shillings and sixpence each person; but that persons of every degree may have a sight of so extraordinary a curiosity, she will be shown to the gentry at sixpence each, and to working people, servants, and children at threepence, during this fair. "this most astonishing part of the human species was born in the island of corsica, on the mountain of stata ota, in the year . she is only thirty-four inches high, weighs but twenty-six pounds, and a child of two years of age has larger hands and feet. her surprising littleness makes a strong impression at first sight on the spectator's mind. nothing disagreeable, either in person or conversation, is to be found in her; although most of nature's productions, in miniature, are generally so in both. her form affords a pleasing surprise, her limbs are exceedingly well proportioned, her admirable symmetry engages the attention; and, upon the whole, is acknowledged a perfect beauty. she is possessed of a great deal of vivacity of spirit; can speak italian and french, and gives the inquisitive mind an agreeable entertainment. in short, she is the most extraordinary curiosity ever known, or ever heard of in history; and the curious, in all countries where she has been shown, pronounce her the finest display of human nature, in miniature, they ever saw. "[asterism] she is to be seen by any number of persons, from ten in the morning till nine at night." hussey's theatrical booth attended southwark fair, where it stood on the bowling-green, the entertainments being the same as in smithfield. lee and yeates can scarcely have been absent from a scene with which the former had been so long and intimately associated. yeates took a benefit this year at the new wells, near the london spa, clerkenwell, where a concert was followed by a performance of the _beggar's opera_, with the _bénéficiaire_ as macheath and his wife as polly, and the farce of _miss in her teens_, in which the part of captain flash was sustained by the former, and that of miss biddy by his wife. the place was probably unlicensed for theatrical performances, as the dramatic portion of the entertainment was announced to be free to holders of tickets for the concert. tottenham court fair was continued this year for fourteen days, but does not appear to have been attended by any of the shows which contributed so much to the attractiveness of the fairs of smithfield and southwark green. the only advertisement of the entertainments which i have been able to find mentions a "great theatrical booth," but it was devoted on the day to which the announcement relates to wrestling and single-stick playing. as a relic of a bygone time, it is curious enough to merit preservation:-- "for the entertainment of all lovers and encouragers of the sword in its different uses, and for the benefit of daniel french, at the great theatrical booth at tottenham court, on monday the th instant, will be revived a country wake. three men of gloucestershire to play at single-stick against three from any part, for a laced hat, value fifteen shillings, or half a guinea in gold; he that breaks most heads fairly in three bouts, and saves his own, to have the prize; half-a-crown for every man breaking a head fairly, besides stage-money. that gentlemen may not be disappointed, every gamester designing to engage is desired to enter his name and place of abode with mr. fuller, at the king's head, next the booth, before the day of sport, or he will not be admitted to play, and to meet by eight in the morning to breakfast and settle the play for the afternoon. money will be given for the encouragement of wrestling, sword and dagger, and other diversions usual on the stage, besides stage-money. that no time may be lost, while two are taking breath, two fresh men shall engage. the doors to be opened at twelve o'clock, and the sport to begin precisely at three in the afternoon. note, there will be variety of singing and dancing for prizes, as will be expressed in the bills and papers of the day. hob, clerk of the revel." newspapers of this year contain advertisements of several shows which probably visited the london fairs, where they were sufficiently announced by their pictures. there are no fewer than three menageries, all on a small scale. the best seems to have been perry's, advertised as follows:--"this is to give notice to all gentlemen, ladies, and others, that mr. perry's grand collection of living wild beasts is come to the white horse inn, fleet street, consisting of a large he-lion, a he-tiger, a leopard, a panther, two hyenas, a civet cat, a jackall, or lion's provider, and several other rarities too tedious to mention. to be seen at any time of the day, without any loss of time. note.--this is the only tiger in england, that baited being only a common leopard." the note alludes to a recent baiting of a leopard by dogs, the animal so abused being described in the announcements of the combat as a tiger. the second menagerie under notice was advertised as follows:-- "to be seen, at the flying horse, near the london workhouse, bishopsgate street, from eight in the morning till nine at night, the largest collection of living wild creatures ever seen in europe. . a beautiful large he-tiger, brought from bengal by captain webster, in the ann. he is very tame, and vastly admired. . a beautiful young leopard, from turkey. . a civet cat, from guinea. . a young man-tiger, from angola. . a wonderful hyæna, from the coast of guinea. . a right man-tiger, brought from angola by captain d'abbadie, in the portfield indiaman. this is a very curious creature, and the only one that has been seen in england for several years. it comes the nearest to human nature of any animal in the world. with several others too tedious to mention." perry seems to have been in error in announcing that he had the only tiger in england; though the one exhibited at the flying horse may have been a more recent importation. the "man-tigers" of the latter collection were probably gorillas, though those animals seem to have been lost sight of subsequently until attention was recalled to them by m. du chaillu. the third collection was advertised as follows:-- "to be seen, at the white swan, near the bull and gate, holborn, a collection of the most curious living wild creatures just arrived from different parts of the world. . a large and beautiful young camel from grand cairo, in egypt, near eight feet high, though not two years old, and drinks water but once in sixteen days. . a surprising hyæna, from the coast of guinea. . a beautiful he-panther, from buenos ayres, in the spanish west indies. . a young riobiscay, from russia: and several other creatures, too tedious to mention. likewise a travelling post-chaise from switzerland, which, without horses, keeps its stage for upwards of fifty miles a day, without danger to the rider. attendance from eight in the morning till eight at night." what the riobiscay was is now beyond conjecture; but the panther from buenos ayres was, of course, a jaguar, the panther being limited to the eastern hemisphere. this collection was exhibited in holbom early in the year, and removed at easter to the rose and crown, near the gates of greenwich park. there was a bovine monstrosity shown this year as a "double cow," probably at the fairs, as the following paragraph, extracted from a newspaper of the time, refers to a second locality:-- "as we are well assured that that most wonderful living curiosity, the double cow, has given uncommon satisfaction to the several learned bodies by whom it has hitherto been seen, we hope the following account and description of it will not be disagreeable to our readers. this wonderful prodigy was bred at cookfield in sussex, being one entire beautiful cow, from the middle of whose back issues the following parts of the other cow, viz., a leg with the blade-bone quite perfect, and about two feet long; the gullet, bowels, teats, and udder, from which udder, as well as from the udder of the perfect cow, it gives milk in great plenty, though more than a yard asunder; and what is very extraordinary, and has astonished the most curious observers, is the discontinuation of the back-bone about sixteen inches from the shoulder. this wonderful beast is so healthy as to travel twenty miles a day, is extremely gentle, and by all the gentlemen and ladies who have already seen it is thought as agreeable as astonishing. it is now shewn in a commodious room, facing craigg's court, charing cross, at one shilling each person." there was also exhibited at the heath cock, charing cross, "a surprising young mermaid, taken on the coast of aquapulca, which, though the generality of mankind think there is no such thing, has been seen by the curious, who express their utmost satisfaction at so uncommon a creature, being half like a woman, and half like a fish, and is allowed to be the greatest curiosity ever exposed to the public view." in , there was again a large muster of shows on the ancient arena of west smithfield. yates re-appeared as a theatrical manager, and in some measure restored the former repute of the fair, oates and miss hippisley being members of his company. his booth stood in george yard, where he played gormandize simple, while oates personated jupiter and miss hippisley the wanton chambermaid, dorothy squeezepurse, in "a new, pleasant, and diverting droll, call'd the descent of the heathen gods, with the loves of jupiter and alcmena; or, cuckoldom no scandal. interspersed with several diverting scenes, both satyrical and comical, particularly the surprising metamorphosis of _jupiter_ and _mercury_; the very remarkable tryal before _judge puzzlecause_, with many learned arguments on both sides, to prove that one can't be two. likewise the adventures and whimsical perplexities of _gormandize simple_ the hungarian footman; with the wonderful conversation he had with, and the dreadful drubbing he received from, _his own apparition_; together with the intrigues of _dorothy squeezepurse_ the wanton chambermaid." opposite the george stood the theatrical booth of the elder yeates, who had been absent from the fair for a few years, and whom mr. henry morley confounds with his son, now in partnership with warner and mrs. lee. he produced _the blind beggar of bethnal green_, with singing and dancing between the acts, and the pantomime of _the amours of harlequin_. cross and bridges, whose booth stood opposite the gate of the hospital, produced a new drama, called _the fair lunatic_, "founded on a story in real life, as related in the memoirs of the celebrated mrs. constantia phillips," with dancing by master matthews and mrs. annesley. next to this booth stood that of lee, yeates, and warner, in which was revived the "true and ancient history of _whittington_, lord mayor of london," as performed in lee's booth fourteen years before, with singing and dancing between the acts. cushing whom we have seen playing harlequin three years before in warner and fawkes's booth, but who was now performing at covent garden, set up a booth opposite the king's head, and produced _king john_, the part of lady constance being sustained by miss yates, a drury lane actress, while cushing's wife personated prince arthur, and the manager the mirth-provoking sir lubberly lackbrains. at a house in hosier lane (no. ), a performing arabian pony was exhibited. there were also shows in the fair, which did not advertise, and the memory of which has, in consequence, not been preserved. of one, owned by a person named phillips, the only record is a very brief newspaper report of a fatal accident, occasioned by the breaking down of the gallery, by which four persons were killed, and several others severely injured. garrick, who had married the dancer violette two months previously, took his bride to bartholomew fair, where they visited the theatrical booth of yates, which was the best in the fair. he was one of the few great actors of the period who had not performed in the fair; and was probably impelled by curiosity, rather than by the expectation of seeing good acting, though it was not many years since he had made his first appearance on any stage at goodman's fields, playing harlequin at a moment's notice when yates was seized with a sudden indisposition as he was about to go on the stage. the crowd pressing upon his wife and himself very unpleasantly as he approached the portable theatre, he called out to palmer, the drury lane bill-sticker, who was acting as money-taker at the booth, to protect them. "i can't help you here, sir," said palmer, shaking his head. "there aren't many people in smithfield as knows mr. garrick." it was probably not at yates's booth, but at one of much inferior grade, that the money-taker rejected garrick's offer to pay for admission, with the remark, "we never take money of one another." the story would be pointless if the incident occurred at any booth in which dramatic performances were given by comedians from the principal london theatres. we now approach a period when a new series of strenuous efforts for the suppression of the london fairs was commenced by persons who would willingly have suppressed amusements of every kind, and were aided in their endeavours by persons who had merely a selfish interest in the matter. in the summer of , a numerously signed petition of graziers, cattle salesmen, and inhabitants of smithfield was presented to the court of aldermen, praying for the suppression of bartholomew fair, on the ground that it annoyed them in their occupations, and afforded opportunities for debauchery and riot. the annual lord mayor's procession might have been objected to on the same grounds, and the civic authorities well knew that the riots which had sometimes occurred in the fair had been occasioned by their own acts, in the execution of their edicts for the exclusion of puppet-shows and theatrical booths. their action to this end was generally taken so tardily that booths were put up before the proprietors received notice of the intention of the court of aldermen to exclude them; and then the tardiness of the owners in taking them down, and the sudden zeal of the constables, produced quarrels and fights, in which the bystanders invariably took the part of the showmen. the revenues which the corporation derived from rents and tolls during the fair constituted an element of the question which could not be overlooked, and which kept it in a state of oscillation from year to year. the civic authorities would have been willing enough to suppress the fair, if the question of finance had not been involved. if the fair was abolished, some other source of revenue would have to be found. so they compounded with their belief that the fair was a fount of disorder and immorality by again limiting its duration to three days, and excluding theatrical booths and puppet-shows, while abstaining from interference with the gambling-tables and the gin-stalls. giants and dwarfs, and learned pigs and performing ponies had now the fair to themselves, though their showmen probably took less money than they did when the theatrical booths and puppet-shows attracted larger numbers of people. henry blacker, a native of cuckfield, in sussex, twenty-seven years of age, and seven feet four inches in height, exhibited himself at the swan, in smithfield, during the three days to which the fair was restricted in . the principal show seems to have been one containing two dwarfs, a remarkable negro, a female one-horned rhinoceros, and a crocodile, said to have been the first ever seen alive in this country. the more famous of the two dwarfs was john coan, a native of norfolk, who at this time was twenty-three years of age, and only three feet two inches in height, and of thirty-four pounds weight. his fellow pigmy was a welsh lad, fourteen years of age, two feet six inches in height, and weighed only twelve pounds. the negro could throw back his clasped hands over his head and bring them under his feet, backward and forward; and was probably "the famous negro who swings his arms about in every direction," mentioned in the 'adventurer.' the exclusion of the theatrical booths and puppet-shows from the fair produced, in the following year, a serious disturbance in smithfield, in the suppression of which birch, the deputy-marshal of the city, received injuries which proved fatal. this resistance to their edict did not, however, deter the civic authorities from applying the same rule to southwark fair, which was this year limited to three days, and diminished of its attractions by the exclusion of theatrical booths and puppet-shows. the principal shows were yeates's, which stood in george yard, and consisted of an exhibition of wax figures, the conjuring tricks of young yeates, and the feats on the slack wire of a performer named steward; and the female samson's, an italian woman, who exhibited feats of strength in a booth opposite the greyhound, similar to those of the french woman seen by carter at may fair, with the addition of supporting six men while resting on two chairs only by the head and heels. towards the close of this year a man named ballard brought from italy a company of performing dogs and monkeys, and exhibited them as a supplementary attraction to the musical entertainments then given at a place in the haymarket, called mrs. midnight's oratory. the animal comedians, as they were called, became famous enough to furnish the theme of an 'adventurer.' the author states that the repeated encomiums on their performances induced him to be present one evening at the entertainment, when he "was astonished at the sagacity of the monkies; and was no less amazed at the activity of the other quadrupeds--i should have rather said, from a view of their extraordinary elevations, bipeds. "it is a peculiar happiness to me as an adventurer," he continues, "that i sally forth in an age which emulates those heroick times of old, when nothing was pleasing but what was unnatural. thousands have gaped at a wire-dancer daring to do what no one else would attempt; and thousands still gape at greater extravagances in pantomime entertainments. every street teems with incredibilities; and if the great mob have their little theatre in the haymarket, the small vulgar can boast their cheaper diversion in two enormous bears, that jauntily trip it to the light tune of a caledonian jig. "that the intellectual faculties of brutes may be exerted beyond the narrow limits which we have hitherto assigned to their capacities, i saw a sufficient proof in mrs. midnight's dogs and monkies. man differs less from beasts in general, than these seem to approach man in rationality. but while i applaud their exalted genius, i am in pain for the rest of their kindred, both of the canine and cercopithecan species." the writer then proceeds to comment humorously upon the mania which the exhibition had created for teaching dogs and monkeys to perform the tricks for which the animal comedians were famous. "every boarding-house romp and wanton school-boy," he says, "is employed in perverting the end of the canine creation." the contributor of this paper seems to have had a familiar acquaintance with the shows attending the london fairs, for it was he, whoever he was, who wrote the third number of the 'adventurer,' in which, giving the details of a scheme for a pantomime, he says that he has "not only ransacked the fairs of bartholomew and southwark, but picked up every uncommon animal, every prodigy of nature, and every surprising performer, that has lately appeared within the bills of mortality." he proceeds to enumerate them, and to assign parts in his intended entertainment for "the modern colossus," "all the wonderful tall men and women that have been lately exhibited in this town," "the female sampson," "the famous negro who swings his arms about in every direction," "the noted ox, with six legs and two bellies," "the beautiful panther mare," "the noted fire-eater, smoking out of red-hot tobacco pipes, champing lighted brimstone, and swallowing his infernal mess of broth," "the most amazing new english _chien savant_," "the little woman that weighs no more than twenty-three pounds," "the wonderful little norfolk man," "the fellow with stentorian lungs, who can break glasses and shatter window-panes with the loudness of his vociferation," and "the wonderful man who talks in his belly, and can fling his voice into any part of a room." incidentally he mentions also "the so much applauded stupendous ostrich," "the sorcerer's great gelding," "the wire dancer," and dancing bears. the showmen's bills and advertisements of the period enable us to identify most of the wonders enumerated by this writer. the female samson and the wire-walker had been seen that year in the fairs, the famous negro and the norfolk dwarf the year before, and the corsican fairy and the double cow in . the fire-eater was probably powell, though i have seen no advertisement of that human salamander earlier than . the bartholomew fair riot was repeated in , when buck, the successor of the unfortunate birch, was very roughly handled by the rioters, and severely bruised. this tumult was followed by an accident to a wire-walker, named evans, who, by the breaking of his wire, was precipitated to the ground, breaking one of his thighs and receiving other injuries. this was the year of the demonstration against the claim of the corporation to levy tolls upon the goods of citizens, as well as upon those of strangers, during the time of bartholomew fair. richard holland, a leather-seller in newgate street, had, in the preceding year, refused the toll demanded on a roll of leather with which he had attempted to enter the fair, and, on the leather being seized by the collector, had called a constable, and charged the impounder with theft. the squabble resulted in an action against the corporation, which was not tried, however, till , when the judge pronounced in favour of the citizens. while the action was pending, holland's cart was driven through the fair with a load of hay, and was not stopped by the collector of the tolls, who had, probably, been instructed to hold his hand until the matter was determined. the horses' heads were decorated with ribbons, and on the leader's forehead was a card, upon which the following doggrel lines were written in a bold round hand:-- "my master keeps me well, 'tis true, and justly pays whatever is due; now plainly, not to mince the matter, no toll he pays but with a halter." on each side of the load of hay hung a halter, and a paper bearing the following announcement:-- "the time is approaching, if not already come, that all british subjects may freely pass on; and not on pretence of bartholomew fair make you pay for your passage, with all you bring near. when once it is try'd, ever after depend on, 'twill incur the same fate as on finchley common. give cæsar his due, when by law 'tis demanded, and those that deserve with this halter be hanged." the disturbances occasioned by the interference of the authorities with the entertainers of the fair-goers were not renewed in , though the elements of disorder seem to have been present in tolerable strength; for on a swing breaking down in smithfield, without any person being seriously hurt, a number of persons broke up the apparatus, and throwing the wreck into a heap, set it on fire. every swing in the fair was then attacked and wrecked in succession, and the frames and broken cars thrown upon the blazing pile, which soon sent a column of fire high into the air, to the immense danger of the many combustible erections on every side. to keep up the fire, all the tables and benches of the sausage-vendors were next seized, and cast upon it; and the feeble police of that period was inadequate to the prevention of this wholesale destruction, which seems to have gone on without a check. the exclusion of theatrical entertainments from southwark fair was not maintained in , when warner set up a booth on the bowling-green, in conjunction with the widow of yeates (who had died about this time), and revived the favourite london fair drama of _the unnatural parents_. in the following year, warner's name appears alone, as the proprietor of a "great tiled booth," in which he produced _the lover's metamorphosis_, with dancing between the acts, and a pantomimic entertainment called _the stratagems of harlequin_. in , yates and shuter, the former engaged at the time at drury lane, and the latter at covent garden, tried the experiment of a variety entertainment, at the large concert-room of the greyhound inn, in smithfield, "during the short time of bartholomew fair," as all bills and advertisements had announced since the duration of the fair had been limited to three days. by this device, they evaded the edict of the lord mayor and the court of aldermen, which applied only to temporary erections in smithfield. they did not repeat the experiment in southwark, where the only booth advertised was warner's, with "a company of comedians from the theatres," in _the intriguing lover_ and _harlequin's vagaries_. yates and shuter re-appeared at the greyhound next year, when they presented _woman turned bully_, with singing and dancing between the acts, and a representation of the storming of louisbourg. theatrical representations were this year permitted or connived at in the fair, for dunstall and vaughan set up a booth in george yard, associating with them in the enterprise the more experienced warner, and announcing "a select company from the theatres royal." _the widow bewitched_ was performed, with an entertainment of singing and dancing. next door to the george inn was an exhibition of wax-work, the chief feature of which was a collection of figures representing the royal family of prussia. southwark fair was this year extended to four days, so fitful and varying was the policy of the court of aldermen with regard to the fairs, which, while they professed to regard them as incentives to idleness and vice, they encouraged in some years as much as they restricted in others. the names of dunstall and vaughan do not appear in the bills issued by warner for this fair, but the comedy performed was the same as at bartholomew fair, followed by a representation of the capture of louisbourg, concluding with a procession of colours and standards, and a song in praise of the heroes of the victory. yates and shuter again attended bartholomew fair in the following year. mr. henry morley claims for the latter the invention of the showman's device of announcing to the players, by a cant word, that there was another audience collected in front, and that the performances might be drawn to a close as soon as possible. shuter's mystic words are said to have been "john audley," shouted from the front. the practice appears, however, to have been in operation in the earliest days of sadler's wells, where, according to a description of the place and the entertainments given by macklin, in a conversation recorded in the fortieth volume of the 'european magazine,' the announcement was made in the query, "is hiram fistoman here?" it was about this time that the "cat's opera" was announced by the famous animal-trainer, bisset, whose pupils, furred and feathered, were regarded as one of the most wonderful exhibitions ever witnessed. bisset was originally a shoemaker at perth, where he was born in , but, on coming to london, and entering the connubial state, he commenced business as a broker, and accumulated a little capital. having read an account of a performing horse, which was exhibited at the fair of st. germain in , he was induced to try his own skill in the teaching of animals upon a dog, and afterwards upon a horse, which he bought for the purpose. succeeding with these, he procured a couple of monkeys, one of which he taught to play a barrel-organ, while the other danced and vaulted on the tight-rope. cats are generally regarded as too susceptible of nervous excitement to perform in public, though their larger relatives, lions, tigers, and leopards, have been taught to perform a variety of tricks before spectators, and cats are readily taught to perform the same tricks in private. bisset aimed at something higher than the exhibition of the leaping feats of the species, and succeeded in teaching three cats to play the dulcimer and squall to the notes. by the advice of pinchbeck, with whom he had become acquainted, he hired a large room in the haymarket, and announced a public performance of the "cat's opera," supplemented by the tricks of the horse, the dog, and the monkeys. besides the organ-grinding and rope-dancing performance, the monkeys took wine together, and rode on the horse, pirouetting and somersaulting with the skill of a practised acrobat. one of them also danced a minuet with the dog. the "cat's opera" was attended by crowded houses, and bisset cleared a thousand pounds by the exhibition in a few days. he afterwards taught a hare to walk on its hind legs, and beat a drum; a feathered company of canaries, linnets, and sparrows to spell names, tell the time by the clock, etc.; half-a-dozen turkeys to execute a country dance; and a turtle (according to wilson, but probably a tortoise) to write names on the floor, having its feet blackened for the purpose. after a successful season in london, he sold some of the animals, and made a provincial tour with the rest, rapidly accumulating a considerable fortune. passing over to ireland in , he exhibited his animals in dublin and belfast, afterwards establishing himself in a public-house in the latter city. there he remained until , when he reappeared in dublin with a pig, which he had taught to perform all the tricks since exhibited by the learned grunter's successors at all the fairs in the kingdom. he was on his way to london with the pig when he became ill at chester, where he shortly afterwards died. the question of suppressing both bartholomew and southwark fairs was considered by the court of common council in , and the city lands committee was desired to report upon the tenures of the fairs, with a view to that end. counsel's opinion was taken, and the committee reported the result of the inquiry, upon which the court resolved that southwark fair should be abolished henceforth, but that the interests of lord kensington in the revenues of bartholomew fair prevented the same course from being pursued in smithfield. the latter fair was voted a nuisance, however, and the court expressed a determination to abate it with the utmost strictness. shuter produced a masque, called _the triumph of hymen_, in honour of the approaching royal nuptials; it was the production of a forgotten poet named wignell, in a collected edition of whose poems it was printed in . among the minor entertainers of this year at bartholomew fair were powell, the fire-eater, and roger smith, who gave a musical performance upon eight bells, two of which were fixed upon his head-gear, and one upon each foot, while two were held in each hand. chapter vii. yates and shuter--cat harris--mechanical singing birds--lecture on heads--pidcock's menagerie--breslaw, the conjuror--reappearance of the corsican fairy--gaetano, the bird imitator--rossignol's performing birds--ambroise, the showman--brunn, the juggler, on the wire--riot at bartholomew fair--dancing serpents--flockton, the puppet-showman--royal visit to bartholomew fair--lane, the conjuror--hall's museum--o'brien, the irish giant--baker's theatre--joel tarvey and lewis owen, the popular clowns. the relations between yates and shuter in the last two or three years of their appearance as showmen at bartholomew fair are somewhat doubtful; but all the evidence that i have been able to obtain points to the conclusion that they did not co-operate subsequently to . in they seemed to have been in rivalry, for the former's name appears singly as the director of the "company of comedians from both the theatres" that performed in the concert-room at the greyhound, while an advertisement of one of the minor shows of the fair describes it as located in george yard, "leading to mr. shuter's booth." i have not, however, been able to find an advertisement of shuter's booth. yates's company performed _the fair bride_, which the bills curiously describe as "containing many surprising occurrences at sea, which could not possibly happen at land. the performance will be highly enlivened with several entertaining scenes between england, france, ireland, and scotland, in the diverting personages of ben bowling, an english sailor; mons. soup-maigre, a french captain; o'flannaghan, an irish officer; m'pherson, a scotch officer. through which the manners of each nation will be characteristically and humorously depicted. in which will be introduced as singular and curious a procession as was ever exhibited in this nation. the objects that comprise the pageantry are both exotic and british. the principal figure is the glory and delight of old england, and envy of our enemies. with variety of entertainments of singing and dancing. the whole to conclude with a loyal song on the approaching marriage of our great and glorious sovereign king george and the princess charlotte of mecklenberg." there were two shows in george yard, in one of which "the famous learned canary bird" was exhibited, the other consisting of a moving picture of a city, with an artificial cascade, and "a magnificent temple, with two mechanical birds which have all the exact motions of living animals; they perform a variety of tunes, either singular or in concert. during the performance, the just swelling of the throat, the quick motions of the bills, and the joyous fluttering of the wings, strike every spectator with pleasing astonishment." shuter seems to have been the last actor who played at bartholomew fair while engaged at a permanent theatre. some amusing stories are told of his powers of mimicry. when foote introduced in a comedy a duet supposed to be performed by two cats, in imitation of bisset's feline opera, he engaged for the purpose one harris, who was famous for his power of producing the vocal sounds peculiar to the species. harris being absent one day from rehearsal, shuter went in search of him, and not knowing the number of the house in which cat harris, as he was called, resided, he began to perform a feline solo as soon as he entered the court in which lived the man of whom he was in search. harris opened his window at the sound, and responded with a beautiful _meeyow_. "you are the man!" said shuter. "come along! we can't begin the cats' opera without you." there is a story told of shuter, however, which is strongly suggestive of his ability to have supplied cat harris's place. he was travelling in the brighton stage-coach on a very warm day, with four ladies, when the vehicle stopped to receive a sixth passenger, who could have played falstaff without padding. the faces of the ladies elongated at this unwelcome addition to the number, but shuter only smiled. when the stout gentleman was seated, and the coach was again in motion, shuter gravely inquired of one of the ladies her motive for visiting brighton. she replied, that her physician had advised sea-bathing as a remedy for mental depression. he turned to the others, and repeated his inquiries; the next was nervous, the third bilious--all had some ailment which the sea was expected to cure. "ah!" sighed the comedian, "all your complaints put together are nothing to mine. oh, nothing!--mine is dreadful but to think of." "indeed, sir!" said the stout passenger, with a look of astonishment. "what is your complaint? you look exceedingly well." "ah, sir!" responded shuter, shaking his head, "looks are deceitful; you must know, sir, that, three days ago, i had the misfortune to be bitten by a mad dog, for which i am informed sea-bathing is the only cure. for that purpose i am going to brighton; for though, as you observe, i am looking well, yet the fit comes on in a moment, when i bark like a dog, and endeavour to bite every one near me." "lord have mercy on us!" ejaculated the stout passenger, with a look of alarm. "but, sir, you are not in earnest--you--" "bow-wow-wow!" "coachman! coachman! let me out!--let me out, i say!" "now, your honour, what's the matter?" "a mad dog is the matter!--hydrophobia is the matter! open the door!" "bow-wow-wow!" "open the door! never mind the steps. thank god, i am safe out! let those who like ride inside; i'll mount the roof." so he rode to brighton outside the coach, much to the satisfaction of shuter and his fair companions who were very merry at his expense, the former repeating at intervals his sonorous _bow-wow-wow_! theatrical booths and puppet-shows were again prohibited in , and, as the jugglers, the acrobats, and the rope-dancers who attended the fairs did not advertise their performances, only casual notices are to be found in the newspapers of the period of the amusements which that generation flocked into smithfield in the first week of september to witness, and which lead them somewhat earlier to the greens of camberwell and stepney. some of the entertainers of the period are mentioned in an anonymous poem on bartholomew fair, which appeared in . the names are probably fictitious. "on slender cord volante treads; the earth seems paved with human heads: and as she springs aloft in air, trembling they crouch below for fear. a well-made form querpero shows, well-skilled that form to discompose; the arms forget their wonted state; standing on earth, they bear his weight; the head falls downward 'twixt the thighs, the legs mount upward to the skies; and thus this topsy-turvy creature stalks, and derides the human nature. agyrta, famed for cup and ball, plays sleight of hand, and pleases all: the certainty of sense in vain philosophers in schools maintain; this man your sharpest wit defies, he cheats your watchful ears and eyes. ah, 'prentice, well your pockets fence, and yet he steals your master's pence." in , "the celebrated lecture on heads" was advertised to be given, during the time of bartholomew fair, "in a large and commodious room near the end of hosier lane." the name of the lecturer was not announced, but the form of the advertisement implies that the lecture was steevens's. the lecturer may, however, have been only an imitator of that famous humorist; for the newspapers of the preceding week inform us that a similar announcement was made at alnwick, where the audience, finding that the lecturer was not steevens, regarded him as an impostor, and demanded the return of their money, with a threat of tossing him in a blanket. the lecturer attempted to vindicate himself, but the production of a blanket completed his discomfiture, and he surrendered, returning to the disappointed audience the money which they had paid for admission. in , the chief attraction of the london fairs was pidcock's menagerie, which was the largest and best which had ever been exhibited in a temporary erection, the animals being hired from cross's collection at exeter change. pidcock exhibited his animals at bartholomew fair for several successive years, and was succeeded by polito, whose zoological collection attracted thousands of spectators every year. breslaw, the conjuror, appeared in , in a large room in cockspur street, where his tricks of legerdemain were combined with a vocal and instrumental concert by three or four italians, imitations by a young lady announced as miss rose of "many interesting parts of the capital actresses in tragedy and comedy," and imitations by an italian named gaetano of the notes of the blackbird, thrush, canary, linnet, bull-finch, sky-lark, and nightingale. in , the entertainment was given on alternate days in the large ball-room of the king's arms, opposite the royal exchange. in , it was given in cockspur street only, and in the following year at marylebone gardens. he then appears to have been absent from london for a couple of years, as he always was during a portion of each year, when he made a tour through the provinces. caulfield says that breslaw was superior to fawkes, "both in tricks and impudence," and relates an anecdote, which certainly goes far to bear out his assertion. breslaw, while exhibiting at canterbury, requested permission to display his cunning a little longer, promising the mayor that if he was indulged with the required permission, he would give the receipts of one night for the benefit of the poor. the mayor acceded to the proposition, and breslaw had a crowded house; hearing nothing about the money collected on the specified evening, the mayor called upon breslaw, and, in as delicate a manner as possible, expressed his surprise. "mr. mayor," said the conjuror, "i have distributed the money myself." "pray, sir, to whom?" inquired the mayor, still more surprised. "to my own company, than whom none can be poorer," replied breslaw. "this is a trick!" exclaimed the mayor indignantly. "sir," returned the conjuror, "we live by tricks." in , the corsican fairy reappeared, having probably made the tour of europe since her first exhibition in london in , which has been overlooked by some writers, though there is no doubt that the girl exhibited at the latter date was the same person. two years later, the turkish rope-dancer, who had displayed his feats in , reappeared at bartholomew fair. in the same year, rossignol exhibited his performing birds at sadler's wells, and afterwards at the smock alley theatre, in dublin. he returned to sadler's wells in , where his clever feathered company attracted as many spectators as before. twelve or fourteen canaries and linnets were taken from their cages, and placed on a table, in ranks, with paper caps on their heads, and tiny toy muskets under their left wings. thus armed and accoutred, they marched about the table, until one of them, leaving the ranks, was adjudged a deserter, and sentenced to be shot. a mimic execution then took place, one of the birds holding a lighted match in its claw, and firing a toy cannon of brass, loaded with powder. the deserter fell, feigning death, but rose again at the command of rossignol. breslaw had formidable competitors this year in ambroise and brunn, who gave a variety entertainment in a large room in panton street, of which we have the following account in their advertisements:-- "on the part of mr. ambroise, the manager of the _ombres chinoises_, will be performed all those scenes which, upon repeated trial, have had a general approbation, with new pieces every day; the whole to be augmented with a fourth division. by the particular desire of the company, the _danses de caractère_ in the intervals are performed to the astonishment of all, and to conclude with the comic of a magician, who performs metamorphoses, etc. he had the honour to represent this spectacle before his most christian majesty louis xvi. and the royal family; likewise before his serene highness the prince d'orange and the whole court, with an approbation very flattering for the performer. "the saxon brunn, besides various tricks of his dexterity, will give this day a surprising circular motion with three forks and a sword; to-morrow, with a plate put horizontally upon the point of a knife, a sword fixed perpendicularly, on the top of which another plate, all turning with a remarkable swiftness; and on saturday the singular performance with a bason, called the clag of manfredonia; all which are of his own invention, being the _non plus ultra_ for equilibriums on the wire. the applause they have already received makes them hope to give an equal satisfaction to the company for the future. to begin at seven precisely. admittance, five shillings." in , a foreigner exhibited in bartholomew fair the extraordinary spectacle of serpents dancing on silken ropes to the sound of music, which performance has never, i believe, been repeated since. the serpents exhibited by arab and hindoo performers, of whose skill an example was afforded several years ago in the zoological gardens in the regent's park, dance on the ground. it was in this year that the fair was visited by the duke and duchess of gloucester, who entered at giltspur street, and passing the puppet-shows of flockton and jobson, the conjuring booths of lane and robinson, and several other shows the names only of whose proprietors--ives, basil, clarkson,--have been preserved, rode through cow lane into holborn. this year appears to have been the first in which puppet-shows were allowed to be set up in smithfield after being excluded for several years; as in a more than ordinary degree of irritation was produced by their exclusion, "lady holland's mob" proclaiming the fair without any restriction, and a disturbance arising afterwards, in the course of which the windows of nearly every house round smithfield were broken by the rioters. flockton and jobson attended the fair regularly for many years. the former used to perform some conjuring tricks on the outside of his show to attract an audience, but strutt says that he was a very poor conjuror. lane's performances were varied by posturing and dancing by his two daughters. the following doggrel appears in one of his bills:-- "it will make you laugh, it will drive away gloom, to see how the egg it will dance round the room; and from another egg a bird there will fly, which makes the company all for to cry, 'o rare lane! cockalorum for lane! well done, lane! you are the man!'" one of the chief shows of the fair in was the fine collection of preserved animals of hall, of the city road, who was famous for his skill in that art. this museum did not prove so attractive as pidcock's menagerie, however, the frequenters of the fair preferring to see the animals living; and in the following year even the expedient of parading a stuffed zebra round the fair did not attract spectators enough to induce hall to attend again. his museum remained open in the city road, however, for many years. breslaw, the conjuror, had a room in at the king's head, near the mansion house, as well as in cockspur street (opposite the haymarket), and a bill of this year shows, better than any of his earlier announcements, the nature of the tricks which he performed. his exposition of "how it is done" was probably not more intelligible than dr. lynn's. "between the different parts," says the bill, "mr. breslaw will discover the following deceptions in such a manner, that every person in the company shall be capable of doing them immediately for their amusement. first, to tell any lady or gentleman the card that they fix on, without asking any questions. second, to make a remarkable piece of money to fly out of any gentleman's hand into a lady's pocket-handkerchief, at two yards distance. third, to change four or five cards in any lady's or gentleman's hand several times into different cards. fourth, to make a fresh egg fly out of any person's pocket into a box on the table, and immediately to fly back again into the pocket." breslaw had rossignol in his company at this time, as will be seen from the following programme:--" . mr. breslaw will exhibit a variety of new magical card deceptions, particularly he will communicate the thoughts from one person to another, after which he will perform many new deceptions with letters, numbers, dice, rings, pocket-pieces, &c., &c. . under the direction of sieur changee, a new invented small chest, consisting of three divisions, will be displayed in a most extraordinary manner. . the famous rossignol, from naples, will imitate various birds, to the astonishment of the spectators. . mr. breslaw will exhibit several new experiments on six different metals, watches, caskets, gold boxes, silver machineries, &c., &c." rossignol (said to be an assumed name) afterwards obtained an engagement at covent garden theatre, where he attracted attention by an imitation of the violin with his mouth; but, being detected in the use of a concealed instrument, he lost his reputation, and we hear of him no more. breslaw filled up the vacancy in his company by engaging novilli, who played "at one time on the german flute, violin, spanish castanets, two pipes, trumpet, bassoon, bass, dutch drum, and violin-cello, never attempted before in this kingdom." i have not been able to discover anything that would throw some light upon the manner in which this extraordinary performance was accomplished. he engaged for his london season this year a large room in panton street, probably the one in which ambroise and brunn performed in . the entertainment commenced, as before, with a vocal and instrumental concert, between the parts of which lyrical and rhetorical imitations were given by "a young gentleman, not nine years of age;" the concluding portion consisting of the exhibition of breslaw's "new invented mechanical watches, sympathetic bell, pyramidical glasses, magical card deceptions, &c., &c.," and particularly "a new grand apparatus and experiments never attempted before in this kingdom." it was in this year that the famous irish giant, patrick o'brien, first exhibited himself at bartholomew fair, being then nineteen years of age, and over eight feet high. his name was cotter, that of o'brien being assumed when he began to exhibit himself, to accord with the representation that he was a descendant of the ancient royal race of munster. his parents, who were both of middle height only, apprenticed him to a bricklayer; but, at the age of eighteen, his extraordinary stature attracted the attention of a showman, by whom he was induced to sign an agreement to exhibit himself in england for three years, receiving a yearly salary of fifty pounds. soon after reaching england, however, on his refusing his assent to a proposed cession of his person to another showman, his exhibitor caused him to be arrested at bristol for a fictitious debt, and lodged in the city goal. obtaining his release, and the annulment of the contract, by the interposition of a benevolent inhabitant of bristol, he proceeded to london, and exhibited himself on his own account in bartholomew fair, realising thirty pounds by the experiment in three days. he exhibited in this fair four or five successive years, but, as he made money, he changed the scene of his "receptions," as they would now be called, to public halls in the metropolis, and the assembly-rooms of provincial hotels. he attained the height of eight feet seven inches, and was proportionately stout, but far from symmetrical; and so deficient in stamina that the effort to maintain an upright attitude while exhibiting himself was painful to him. theatrical booths again appeared at bartholomew fair in , when mrs. baker, manageress of the rochester theatre, took her company to smithfield. tradition says that elizabeth inchbald was at this time a member of mrs. baker's company, but i have not been able to discover any ground for the belief. the diary of the actress would have set the matter at rest; but she destroyed it before her death, and boaden's memoirs of her were based chiefly upon her letters. they show her to have performed that year at canterbury, and it is within the limits of probability that she may have performed at rochester also; though it would still remain doubtful whether she accompanied mrs. baker to bartholomew fair. according to boaden, she proceeded to edinburgh on the termination of her canterbury engagement. lewis owen, who was engaged by mrs. baker as clown for her bartholomew fair performances, was a young man of reputable family and good education, who had embraced the career of a public entertainer from choice, as more congenial to his tastes and habits than any other. his eccentric manners and powers of grimace, joined with a considerable fund of natural wit, caused him to be speedily recognised as a worthy successor of joel tarvey, who, after amusing more than one generation, as the merry andrew of various shows and places of amusements, had died at hoxton of extreme old age in . chapter viii. lady holland's mob--kelham whiteland, the dwarf--flockton, the conjuror and puppet-showman--wonderful rams--miss morgan, the dwarf--flockton's will--gyngell, the conjuror--jobson, the puppet-showman--abraham saunders--menageries of miles and polito--miss biffin--philip astley. while the character of the theatrical entertainments presented at the london fairs declined from the middle of the eighteenth century, when yates and shuter ceased to appear in smithfield "during the short time of bartholomew fair," the various other shows underwent a gradual improvement. menageries became larger and better arranged, while with the progress of zoological science, they were rendered better media for its diffusion. panoramas and mechanical exhibitions began to appear, and, though it is impossible to estimate the degree in which such agencies were instrumental in educating the people, it is but fair to allow them some share in the intellectual progress of the latter half of the century. the good or evil arising from the amusements of any class of the people can only be fairly judged by comparing the amusements with those of other classes at the same period; and those who will study the dramas and novels, and especially the newspapers of the last century, will not find more to commend in the manners and pursuits of the upper and middle classes than in those of the lower orders of society, as exemplified in the london fairs. the hand that painted gin lane for the contemplation of posterity left an instructive picture of the morals and manners of the upper strata of society in the 'rake's progress' and the 'midnight conversation.' the amusements of the people partake of the mutability of all mundane matters, and the newspapers of the period show that the london fairs had begun, at the beginning of the last quarter of the eighteenth century, to be regarded by the educated portion of society much less favourably than they had been in earlier times. when st. james's ceased to patronize them, bloomsbury voted them low, and cornhill declared them a nuisance. journalists, having as yet no readers in the slums, and therefore writing exclusively for st. james's, or bloomsbury, or cornhill, as the case might be, adapted their tone to the views current in those sections of london society. if we first place a paragraph of the 'times' of the present day recording a cock-fight or a pugilistic contest, by the side of a report of a similar encounter in a journal of thirty years ago, we shall have no difficulty in understanding why bartholomew fair was described by the 'morning chronicle' in in language so different to that used by pepys and evelyn a century before. after recounting the misdoings of "lady holland's mob," the paragraphist tells his readers that:-- "the elegant part of the entertainment was confined to a few booths. at the lock and key, near cloth fair, a select company performed the musical opera of the _poor soldier_, with columbine's escape from smithfield. mr. flockton, whose name can never be struck off bartholomew roll, had a variety of entertainments without and within. the king's conjuror, who takes more money from out the pocket than he puts in, made the lank-haired gentry scratch their pates; the walking french puppet-show had hired an apartment, with additional performers; punch and the devil, in his little moving theatre, were performing without doors, to invite the company into the grand theatre. men with wooden mummies in show-boxes were found straggling about the fair; tall women in cellars, dropping upon their knees to be kissed by short customers; dwarfs mounted on stools for the same civil purposes; and men without arms writing with their feet." the sneering tone, and the disposition to write down the fair, perceptible in this account, are more strongly exhibited in the 'public advertiser' of the th of september, in the following year:-- "saturday being bartholomew fair day, it was, according to annual custom, ushered in by lady holland's mob, accompanied with a charming band of music, consisting of marrow-bones and cleavers, tin kettles, &c., &c., much to the gratification of the inhabitants about smithfield; great preparations were then made for the reception of the lord mayor, the sheriffs, and other city officers, who, after regaling themselves with a cool tankard at mr. akerman's, made their appearance in the fair about one o'clock, to authorise _mimic_ fools to make _real_ ones of the gaping spectators. the proclamation being read, and the lord mayor retiring, he was saluted by a flourish of trumpets, drums, rattles, salt-boxes, and other delightful musical instruments. the noted flockton, and the notorious jobson, with many new managers, exhibited their tragic and comic performers, as did penley his drolls. there were wild beasts from all parts of the world roaring, puppets squeaking, sausages frying, kings and queens raving, pickpockets diving, round-abouts twirling, hackney coaches and poor horses driving, and all smithfield alive-o! the learned horse paid his obedience to the company, as did about a score of monkeys, several _beautiful young_ ladies of forty, punches, pantaloons, harlequins, columbines, three giants, a dwarf, and a giantess. these were not all who came to smithfield to gratify the public; there were several sleight-of-hand men and fire-eaters; the last, however, were not quite so numerous as those who eat of the deliciously flavoured sausages and oysters with which the fair abounded. the company were _remarkably genteel_ and crowded, and the different performances went off with loud and unbounded bursts of applause; they will be repeated this day and to-morrow for the last times this season." reports similar in tone to the foregoing continued to appear in the newspapers for many years. that the fairs were visited at and from this time almost exclusively by the lower orders of society is tolerably obvious from the fact that, though the number and variety of the shows were greater, and advertising was more largely resorted to every year as a medium of publicity, the showmen had ceased to use the columns of the london press for this purpose. bills were given away in the fair, or displayed on the outsides of the shows, but few of these have been preserved, though the few extant are the only memorials of the london fairs during several years. the only bill of which i have succeeded in finding announces a dwarf with the remarkable name of kelham whiteland; he is said to have been born at ipswich, but his height, strange to say, is not stated, a blank being left before the word _inches_. probably he was growing, and his exhibitor deemed it advisable, as a matter of financial economy, to have a large number of bills printed at one time. flockton, who was the leading showman of this period, was the sole advertiser of , when he put forth the following announcement:-- "mr. flockton's most grand and unparallelled exhibition. consisting, first, in the display of the original and universally admired italian fantoccini, exhibited in the same skilful and wonderful manner, as well as striking imitations of living performers, as represented and exhibited before the royal family, and the most illustrious characters in this kingdom. mr. flockton will display his inimitable dexterity of hand, different from all pretenders to the said art. to which will be perform'd an ingenious and spirited opera called the padlock. principal vocal performers, signor giovanni orsi and signora vidina. the whole to conclude with his grand and inimitable musical clock, at first view, a curious organ, exhibited three times before their majesties." in this clock nine hundred figures were said to be shown at work at various trades. in the following year, two wonderful rams were exhibited in bartholomew fair. one of them had a single horn, growing from the centre of the forehead, like the unicorn of the heralds; the other had six legs. one of the principal shows of this year was advertised as "the original theatre (late the celebrated yates and shuter, of facetious memory), up the greyhound inn yard, the only real and commodious place for theatrical performances. the performers selected from the most distinguished theatres in england, scotland, &c. the representation consists of an entirely new piece, called, the spaniard well drub'd, or the british tar victorious." this clap-trap drama concluded with "a grand procession of the king, french heroes, guards, municipal troops, &c., to the champ de mars, to swear to the revolution laws, as established by the magnificent national assembly, on the th of july, ." there was "hornpipe dancing by the renowned jack bowling," and an "olio of wit, whim, and fancy, in song, speech, and grimace." two years later, the london fairs were visited by a couple of dwarfs, almost as famous in their day as tom thumb and his lilliputian bride in our own. these were thomas allen, described in the bill of the show as "the most surprising small man ever before the public," and who had previously been exhibited at the lyceum, where he was visited by the duke of york and the duke of clarence; and, again to quote the bill, which seems to have been based on the announcements of the corsican fairy, some of the passages being identical,-- "miss morgan, the celebrated windsor fairy, known in _london_ and _windsor_ by the addition of lady morgan, a title which his majesty was pleased to confer on her. "this unparallelled woman is in the th year of her age, and only pounds weight. her form affords a pleasing surprise, and her admirable symmetry engages attention. she was introduced to their majesties at the _queen's lodge, windsor_, on saturday the th of august, , by the recommendation of the late dr. _hunter_; when they were pleased to pronounce her the finest display of human nature in _miniature_ they ever saw.--but we shall say no more of these great wonders of nature: let those who honour them with their visits, judge for themselves. "let others boast of stature, or of birth, this glorious truth shall fill our souls with mirth. 'that we now are, and hope, for years, to sing, the smallest subject of the greatest king!' "[pointing hand] admittance to ladies and gentlemen, _s._ children, half price. "[asterism] in this and many other parts of the kingdom, it is too common to show deformed persons, with various arts and deceptions, under denominations of persons in miniature, to impose on the public. "this little couple are, beyond contradiction, the most wonderful display of nature ever held out to the admiration of mankind. "n.b. the above lady's mother is with her, and will attend at any lady or gentleman's house, if required." flockton died in , at peckham, where he had lived for several years in comfort and respectability, having realised what was then regarded as a considerable fortune. he had attended the london fairs, and many of the chief provincial ones, for many years, retiring to his cottage at peckham in the winter. his representation of punch was not only superior in every way to that of the open air puppet shows, but famous for the introduction of a struggle between the mimic representative of the prince of darkness and a fine newfoundland dog, in which the canine combatant seized the enemy by the nose, and finally carried him off the stage. flockton had no children, and probably no other relatives, for he bequeathed his show, with all the properties pertaining to it, to gyngell, a clever performer of tricks of sleight of hand, and a widow named flint, both of whom had travelled with it for several years; and between these two persons and other members of his company he divided the whole of his accumulated gains, amounting to five thousand pounds. his successors were announced next bartholomew fair as "the widow flint and gyngell, at flockton's original theatre, up the greyhound yard." gyngell exhibited his conjuring tricks, and performed on the musical glasses; and his wife sang between this part of the entertainment and the exhibition of the _fantoccini_ and flockton's celebrated clock, which seems either to have been over-puffed by its original exhibitor, or to have fallen out of repair, for it was now said to contain five hundred figures, instead of the nine hundred originally claimed for it. perhaps, however, the larger number was a misprint. widow flint seems to have died soon after flockton, or to have disposed of her share in the show to gyngell; for the bill of is the only one i have found with her name as co-proprietor. gyngell attended the london fairs, and the principal fairs for many miles round the metropolis, for thirty years after flockton's death, and is spoken of by persons old enough to remember him as a quiet, gentlemanly man. jobson, the puppet-showman, who had been in the field as long as flockton, was prosecuted in , with several other owners of similar shows, for making his puppets speak, which was held to be an infraction of the laws relating to theatrical licences. this circumstance proves strutt to have been in error in describing flockton as the last of the "motion-masters," the latter having been dead three years when his contemporaries were prosecuted. i have not found jobson's name among the showmen at the london fairs in later years, however; and gyngell's puppets appear to have dropped out of existence with the musical clock, during the early years of his career as a showman. the suppression of bartholomew fair was strongly urged upon the court of common council in , and the expediency of the measure was referred by the court to the city lands committee, but nothing came of the discussion at that time. it was proposed to limit the duration of the fair to one day, but this suggestion was rejected by the court of common council on the ground that the limitation would cause the fair to be crowded to an extent that would be dangerous to life and limb. it is doubtful, however, whether the showmen would have found the profits of one day sufficient to induce them, had the experiment been tried, to incur the expense of putting up their booths. the fair went on as before, therefore, and rowlandson's print sets before us the scene which it presented in as thoroughly and as vividly as setchel's engraving has done the bartholomew fair of the first quarter of the century. gyngell's "grand medley" (a name adopted from jobson) was there; and the menageries of miles and polito, the italian successor of pidcock, and very famous in his day; and abraham saunders, whom we meet with for the first time, with the theatre which he appears to have sometimes substituted for the circus, perhaps when an execution had deprived him of his horses, or a bad season had obliged him to sell them; and miss biffin, who, having been born without arms, painted portraits with a brush affixed to her right shoulder, and exhibited herself and her productions at fairs as the best mode of obtaining patronage. down to the end of the last century there are no records of a circus having appeared at the london fairs. astley is said to have taken his stud and company to bartholomew fair at one time, but i have not succeeded in finding any bill or advertisement of the great equestrian in connection with fairs. the amphitheatre which has always borne his name (except during the lesseeship of mr. boucicault, who chose to call it the westminster theatre, a title about as appropriate as the marylebone would be in shoreditch), was opened in , and he had previously given open air performances on the same site, only the seats being roofed over. the enterprising character of astley renders it not improbable that he may have tried his fortune at the fairs when the circus was closed, as it has usually been during the summer; and he may not have commenced his season at the amphitheatre until after bartholomew fair, or have given there a performance which he was accustomed to give in the afternoon at a large room in piccadilly, where the tricks of a performing horse were varied with conjuring and _ombres chinoises_, a kind of shadow pantomime. but though astley's was the first circus erected in england, equestrian performances in the open air had been given before his time by price and sampson. the site of dobney's place, at the back of penton street, islington, was, in the middle of the last century, a tea-garden and bowling-green, to which johnson, who leased the premises in , added the attraction of tumbling and rope-dancing performances, which had become so popular at sadler's wells. price commenced his equestrian performances at this place in , and soon had a rival in sampson, who performed similar feats in a field behind the old hats public-house. it was not until ten years later, according to the historians of lambeth, that philip astley exhibited his feats of horsemanship in a field near the halfpenny hatch, forming his first ring with a rope and stakes, after the manner of the mountebanks of a later day, and going round with his hat after each performance to collect the largesses of the spectators, a part of the business which, in the slang of strolling acrobats and other entertainers of the public in bye-streets and market-places, and on village greens, is called "doing a nob." this remarkable man was born in , at newcastle-under-lyme, where his father carried on the business of a cabinet maker. he received little or no education--no uncommon thing at that time,--and, having worked a few years with his father, enlisted in a cavalry regiment. his imposing appearance, being over six feet in height, with the proportions of a hercules, and the voice of a stentor, attracted attention to him; and his capture of a standard at the battle of emsdorff, made him one of the celebrities of his regiment. while serving in the army, he learned many feats of horsemanship from an itinerant equestrian named johnson, and often exhibited them for the amusement of his comrades. on his discharge from the army, being presented by general elliot with a horse, he bought another in smithfield, and with these two animals gave the open air performances in lambeth, which have been mentioned. chapter ix edmund kean--mystery of his parentage--saunders's circus--scowton's theatre--belzoni--the nondescript--richardson's theatre--the carey family--kean, a circus performer--oxberry, the comedian--james wallack--last appearance of the irish giant--miss biffin and the earl of morton--bartholomew fair incidents--josephine girardelli, the female salamander--james england, the flying pieman--elliston as a showman--simon paap, the dutch dwarf--ballard's menagerie--a learned pig--madame gobert, the athlete--cartlich, the original mazeppa--barnes, the pantaloon--nelson lee--cooke's circus--the gyngell family with the present century commenced a period of the history of shows and showmen specially interesting to the generation which remembers the london fairs as they were forty or fifty years ago, and to which the names of gyngell, scowton, samwell, richardson, clarke, atkins, and wombwell have a familiar sound. it introduces us, in its earliest years, to the celebrated edmund kean, "the stripling known in a certain wayfaring troop of _atellanæ_ by the name of carey," as raymond wrote, and whom we find performing at the london fairs, sometimes tumbling in saunders's circus, and sometimes playing juvenile characters in the travelling theatres of scowton and richardson. the early life of this remarkable man is as strange as any that has ever afforded materials for the biographer, and the mystery surrounding his parentage as inscrutable a problem as the authorship of the letters of junius. phippen, the earliest biographer of kean, says that he was born in , and was the illegitimate offspring of _aaron_ kean, a tailor, and anne carey, an actress. proctor, whose account is repeated by hawkins, states that his parentage was unknown, but that, according to the best conclusion he was able to form, he was the son of _edmund_ kean, a mechanic employed by a london builder, and anne carey, an actress. raymond says, on the authority of miss tidswell, who was many years at drury lane theatre, that he was the son of _edward_ kean, a carpenter, and nancy carey, the actress. while these various writers agree as to the name and profession of the future great tragedian's mother, and the patronymic of his father, they give us the choice of three baptismal names for the latter, and at least two occupations. there seems no doubt, however, that his father, whether he was a carpenter or a tailor, was the brother of moses kean, a popular reciter and imitator of the leading actors at the beginning of the present century. no register of his birth or baptism has ever been discovered, and it is even a matter of doubt whether he was born in westminster or in southwark. miss tidswell seems to have been the only person who possessed any knowledge of his birth and parentage that was ever revealed, a circumstance which caused her to be suspected of herself standing in the maternal relationship to him. kean, when a child, called her sometimes mother, and sometimes aunt; but, according to her own account, she was in no way related to him, but had adopted him on his being deserted by his real mother, anne carey. his first appearance in public was made in the character of a monkey, in the show of abraham saunders, at bartholomew fair, probably in . he was then twelve or thirteen years of age, and already innured to a wandering and vagabond mode of life; being in the habit of absenting himself for days together from the lodging of miss tidswell, in order to visit the fairs, and sleeping under the trees in st. james's park, to avoid being locked up by his guardian, and thus prevented from gazing at the parades of saunders and scowton on the morrow. proctor says, somewhat vaguely, though probably with as much exactness as the materials for a memoir of kean's boyhood render possible, that when about fourteen years of age, he was sometimes in richardson's company, and sometimes in scowton's or saunders's; and that, besides tumbling in the circus of the latter, he rode and danced on the tight-rope. in performing an equestrian act at bartholomew fair, he once fell from the pad, and hurt his legs, which never quite recovered from the effects of the accident. in , another notability of the age made his appearance at bartholomew fair, namely, belzoni, afterwards famous as an explorer of the pyramids and royal tombs of egypt. he was a remarkably handsome and finely proportioned man, and of almost gigantic stature, his height being six feet six inches. his muscular strength being proportionate to his size, he was engaged by gyngell to exhibit feats of strength, as the young hercules, _alias_ the patagonian samson, in which character he lifted four men of average weight off the ground, and held out prodigious weights at arm's length. he afterwards went to edmonton fair, where he performed in a field behind the bell inn. of his engagements during the following six or seven years we have no account, but in he sustained the character of orson at the edinburgh theatre, when he was hissed for not being sufficiently demonstrative in his attentions to the maternal bear. five years later, he was exploring the pyramids and sarcophagi of egypt, as assistant to the british consul at alexandria, and in his name was famous. in the same year that belzoni performed his feats of strength in gyngell's show, there was exhibited in bartholomew fair, together with a two-headed calf, and a double-bodied calf, "a surprising large fish, the nondescript," which "surprising inhabitant of the watery kingdom was," according to the bill, "drawn on the shore by seven horses and about a hundred men. she measured twenty-five feet in length and about eighteen in circumference, and had in her belly when found, one thousand seven hundred mackerel." the first mention of richardson's theatre in the annals of the london fairs occurs in . of his early career there is no record; probably it did not differ much from that of his pupil, kean, or his successor, nelson lee, or of the famous "roving english clown," charlie keith, and numerous others whose lives have been passed in wandering from place to place, amusing the public as actors, jugglers, conjurors, acrobats, etc. whatever his antecedents may have been, there is no doubt as to his character, all who knew him concurring in representing him as illiterate and ignorant, but possessing a large fund of shrewdness and common sense; irritable in temper, but agreeable in his manners so long as nothing occurred to excite his irascibility; sensitive to any unprovoked insult, which he never failed to revenge, but always ready and willing to lend a helping hand to those who had been less fortunate than himself. many stories are current among showmen and the theatrical profession of richardson's goodness of heart and his occasional eccentricities of conduct. on one occasion, while his portable theatre was at st. albans, a fire occurred in the town, and many small houses were destroyed, the poor tenants of which by that means lost all their furniture, and almost everything they possessed. a subscription was immediately opened for their relief, and a public meeting was held to promote the benevolent purpose. richardson attended, and when the mayor, who presided, had read a list of donations, varying in amount from five shillings to twice as many pounds, he advanced to the table, and presented a bank of england note for a hundred pounds. "to whom is the fund indebted for this munificent donation?" inquired the astonished mayor. "put it down to muster richardson, the showman," replied the donor, who then walked quietly from the room. he often paid the ground-rent of the poorer proprietors of travelling shows, booths, and stalls, whose receipts, owing to bad weather, had not enabled them to pay the claims of the owner of the field, and who, but for richardson's kindness, would have been obliged to remain on the ground, losing the chance of making money elsewhere, until they could raise the required sum. he never seemed to expect repayment in such cases, and never referred to them afterwards. saunders, who seems to have passed through an unusually long life in a chronic condition of impecuniosity, once borrowed ten pounds of him, and honourably and punctually repaid the money at the appointed time. richardson seemed surprised, but he took the money, and made no remark. no very long time elapsed before saunders wanted another loan, when, to his surprise, richardson met his application with a decided refusal. "i paid you honourably the money you lent me before," observed saunders with an aggrieved air. "that's it, muster saunders," rejoined richardson. "you did pay me that money, and i was never more surprised in my life; and i mean to take care you don't surprise me again, either in that way, _or any other way_." in recruiting his company, he preferred actors who had learned a trade, such being, in his opinion, steadier and more to be depended upon than those who, like kean, had been strollers from childhood. his pay-table was the head of the big drum, and his way of discharging an actor or musician with whom he was dissatisfied was to ask him, when giving him his week's salary, to leave his name and address with the stage-manager, who was also wardrobe-keeper and scene-shifter. this post was held for many years by a man named lewis, who was also the general servant of richardson's "living carriage," and at his winter quarters, woodland cottage, horsemonger lane, long since pulled down, the site being occupied by a respectable row of houses, called woodland terrace. he always strengthened his company, and produced his best dresses, for the london fairs, where his theatre, decked with banners and a good display of steel and brass armour, presented a striking appearance. his wardrobe and scene-waggon were always well stocked, and the dresses were not, as some persons imagined, the off castings of the theatres, but were made for him, and, having to be worn by daylight, were of really excellent quality. cloaks were provided for the company to wear on parade when the weather happened to be wet. it was a frequent boast of richardson, that many of the most eminent members of the theatrical profession had graduated in his company, and it is known that edmund kean, james wallack, oxberry, and saville faucit were of the number. kean always acknowledged that he made his first appearance in a principal part as young norval in richardson's theatre; but it is obvious from what is known of his boyhood that he must have been in the company several years before he could have essayed that character. so far as can be made out from his supposed age, he seems to have joined richardson's company in , to the early part of which year we must assign the story told by davis, who was afterwards associated in partnership with the younger astley in the lesseeship of the amphitheatre. "i was passing down great surrey street one morning," davis is reported to have said, "when just as i came to the place where the riding house now stands, at the corner of the magdalen as they call it, i saw master saunders packing up his traps. his booth, you see, had been standing there for some three or four days, or thereabouts; and on the parade-waggon i saw a slim young chap with marks of paint--and bad paint it was, for all the world like raddle on the back of a sheep--on his face, tying up some of the canvas. and when i had shook hands with master saunders, he turns him right round to this young chap, who had just threw a somerset behind his back, and says, 'i say, you mr. king dick, if you don't mind what you're arter, and pack up that wan pretty tight and nimble, we shan't be off afore to-morrow; and so, you mind your eye, my lad.' that mr. king dick, as master saunders called him, was young carey, that's now your great mr. kean." kean's engagement with richardson brings us to a portion of his personal history which is involved in the profoundest mystery. his biographers state that his mother, anne carey, was at the time a member of richardson's company, that kean was unaware of the fact when he engaged, and that he left the _troupe_ not very long afterwards, in consequence of his mother claiming and receiving his salary, the last circumstance being said to rest on the authority of kean himself. not much credence is due to the story on that account; for the great actor exercised his imagination on the subject of his origin and antecedents as freely as the josiah bounderby of the inimitable dickens. but the results of a patient search among the gatherings relating to bartholomew fair in the library of the british museum clearly prove that kean's mother was, when a member of richardson's company, the wife of an actor named carey. the only careys whose names are to be found in any of the bills of richardson's theatre which have been preserved were a married couple, who for many years, including the whole period of kean's engagement, sustained the principal parts in those wonderful melodramas for which the establishment was so famous. if these people were kean's parents, what becomes of the story which has been told by his biographers, on the authority of miss tidswell? that they assumed to be his parents is undoubted, and it is equally beyond doubt that the relationship was unquestioned by richardson, and the claims founded upon it acquiesced in by kean. "windsor fair," said richardson, in relating the story of kean's professional visit to windsor castle, "commenced on a friday, and after all our impediments we arrived safe, and lost no time in erecting our booth. we opened with _tom thumb_ and the _magic oak_. to my great astonishment, i received a note from the castle, commanding master carey to recite several passages from different plays before his majesty king george the third at the palace. i was highly gratified at the receipt of the above note; but i was equally perplexed to comply with the commands of the king. the letter came to me on saturday night; and as master carey's wardrobe was very scanty, it was necessary to add to it before he could appear in the presence of royalty. my purse was nearly empty, and to increase my dilemma, all shops belonging to jews were shut, and the only chance we had left was their being open on sunday morning. "among the jews, however, we at last purchased a smart little jacket, trousers, and body linen; we tied the collar of his shirt through the button-holes with a piece of black ribbon; and when dressed in his new apparel, master carey appeared a smart little fellow, and fit to exhibit his talents before any monarch in the world. the king was highly delighted with him, and so were all the nobility who were present. two hours were occupied in recitations; and his abilities were so conspicuous to every person present that he was pronounced an astonishing boy, and a lad of great promise. the present he received for his performance was rather small, being only two guineas, though, upon the whole, it turned out fortunate for the family. the principal conversation in windsor for a few days was about the talents displayed by master carey before the king. his mother, therefore, took advantage of the circumstance, and engaged the market-hall for three nights for edmund's recitations. this was an excellent speculation, and the hall overflowed with company every night. "mrs. carey joined me on the following monday at ewell fair; and all the family, owing to their great success, came so nicely dressed that i scarcely knew them. mrs. carey and her children did not quit my standard during the summer. after a short period, i again got my company together, and with hired horses went to waltham abbey. i took a small theatre in that town, the rent of which was fifteen shillings per week. it was all the money too much. my company i considered very strong, consisting of mr. vaughan, mr. thwaites, master edmund, his mother, and the whole of his family, mr. saville faucit, mr. grosette, mr. and mrs. jefferies, mr. reed, mrs. wells, and several other performers, who are now engaged at the different theatres in the kingdom. notwithstanding we acted the most popular pieces, the best night produced only nine shillings and sixpence. starvation stared us in the face, and our situation was so truly pitiable that the magistrate of the town, out of compassion for our misfortunes, bespoke a night." it is singular that richardson does not mention carey, his chief actor, in this communication; but the words "the whole of his family" must be supposed to include carey and, i believe, a daughter. in every bill of the period the names of mr. h. carey and mrs. h. carey appear as the representatives of the heroes and heroines of the richardsonian drama; and the absence of any direct mention of the former is much less remarkable than the fact that he has been altogether ignored by every biographer of kean, while the supposed mother of the tragedian is invariably styled _miss_ carey. it is exceedingly improbable that the mystery involved in these discrepancies and contradictions will now ever be cleared up in a satisfactory manner. one thing alone, amidst all the confusion and obscurity, seems certain; namely, that the careys were in richardson's company before kean joined it, and that, whether or not he believed them to be his parents, he dropped their acquaintance when he threw off their authority. raymond says that when kean, after his marriage, visited bartholomew fair, he was recognised by carey, who was standing on the parade of richardson's theatre, and ran down the steps to greet him; the tragedian seemed mortified, treated the strolling actor coldly, and "slunk away, literally like a dog in a fair." in pondering the probabilities of the case, it is obvious that considerable allowance must be made for the obscurity which envelopes the origin of kean's existence. their only authority being miss tidswell, it is natural that the biographers should suppose the woman who passed for kean's mother with richardson and his company to be the nancy carey of her story, and mention her as miss carey. but the evidence of the bills, which cannot have been known to them, forces upon us the re-consideration of the story of kean's parentage which has hitherto passed current. miss tidswell's story can be reconciled with the facts only by the hypothesis that anne carey, subsequently to kean's birth, became the wife of h. carey, the sameness of name being due to cousinship, or perhaps merely a coincidence. kean's illegitimacy may have been known to richardson, whose knowledge of the circumstance would explain the reason of his speaking of mrs. carey as the mother of master carey, while he says nothing to warrant the supposition that he regarded her husband as the lad's father. but everything about kean's early life is mysterious and obscure. how and when did he acquire the classical lore which he seems to have possessed? certainly not while he was roaming the streets of london, frequenting all the fairs, and practising flip-flaps; nor while travelling with saunders, scowton, and richardson, and rejoicing in the cognomen of mr. king dick. as little likely does it seem that he could have acquired it at that subsequent period of his life when the leisure which his profession left him was passed in disreputable taverns, in low orgies with the worst companions. "you see this inequality in the bridge of my nose?" he once observed to benson hill, the author of a couple of amusing volumes of theatrical anecdotes and adventures. "it was dealt me by a demmed pewter pot, hurled from the hand of jack thurtell. we were borne, drunk and bleeding, to the watch-house, for the night. when i was taken out, washed, plastered, left to cogitate on any lie, of an accident in a stage fight, i told it, and was believed, for the next day i dined with the bishop of norwich." my task does not, however, require me to follow kean's fortunes from the time when he left richardson's company, and obtained an engagement at a provincial theatre. the date is uncertain, but his name does not appear in the bills of , and he had probably turned his back on the travelling theatre in the preceding year. patrick o'brien, the irish giant, exhibited himself for the last time in , when he advertised as follows:-- "just arrived in town, and to be seen in a commodious room, at no. , haymarket, nearly opposite the opera house, the celebrated irish giant, mr. o'brien, of the kingdom of ireland, indisputably the tallest man ever shown; is a lineal descendant of the old puissant king, brien boreau, and has, in person and appearance, all the similitudes of that great and grand potentate. it is remarkable of this family, that, however various the revolutions in point of fortune and alliance, the lineal descendants thereof have been favoured by providence with the original size and stature, which have been so peculiar to their family. the gentleman alluded to measures nearly nine feet high. admittance one shilling." o'brien had now realised a considerable fortune, and he resolved to retire from the public gaze. having purchased an old mansion near epping, and on the borders of the forest, he took up his abode there, keeping a carriage and pair of horses, and living quietly and unostentatiously the brief remainder of his life. he died in , in his forty-seventh year, when his servants made use of his fame and his wardrobe for their own emolument, dressing a wax figure in his clothes, and exhibiting it at rooms in the haymarket, the strand, and other parts of the metropolis. the rival theatres of richardson and scowton attended bartholomew fair in , when the former produced a romantic and highly sensational drama, called _the monk and the murderer_, in which carey played the principal character, baron montaldi, and his wife that of emilina, the baron's daughter. the following announcement appears in the head of the bill:-- "mr. richardson has the honour to inform the public, that for the extraordinary patronage he has experienced, it has been his great object to contribute to the convenience and gratification of his audience. mr. r. has a splendid collection of scenery, unrivalled in any theatre; and, as they are painted and designed by the first artists in england, he hopes with such decorations, and a change of performances each day, the public will continue him that patronage it has been his greatest pride to deserve." the scenery of the drama comprised a gothic hall in the baron's castle, a rocky pass in calabria, a forest, a rustic bridge, with a distant view of the castle, a gothic chamber, and a baronial hall, decorated with banners and trophies. in the fourth scene a chivalric procession was introduced, and in the last a combat with battle-axes. the drama was followed, as usual, by a pantomime entitled _mirth and magic_, which concluded with a "grand panoramic view of gibraltar, painted by the first artists." saunders was there, with a circus, and seems to have attended the fair with considerable regularity. he was often in difficulties, however, and on one occasion, after borrowing a trick horse of astley, his stud was taken in execution for debt, and the borrowed horse was sold with the rest. some time afterwards, two equestrians of astley's company were passing a public-house, when they recognised billy, harnessed to a cart which was standing before the door. hearing their voices, the horse erected his ears, and, at a signal from one of them, stood up on his hind legs, and performed such extraordinary evolutions that a crowd collected to witness them. on the driver of the cart coming from the public-house, an explanation of billy's appearance in cart-harness was obtained with the observation that "he was a werry good 'orse, but so full o' tricks that we calls 'im the mountebank." billy, i scarcely need say, was returned to his stall in astley's stables very soon after this discovery. miss biffin was still attending the fairs, painting portraits with her right shoulder, and in attracted the attention of the earl of morton, who sat to her for his likeness, and visited her "living carriage" several times for that purpose. in order to test her ability, he took the portrait away with him, after each sitting, and thus became satisfied that it was entirely the work of her own hand, or rather shoulder. finding that the armless little lady really possessed artistic talent, he showed the portrait to george iii., who was pleased to direct that she should receive instruction in drawing at his expense. the earl of morton corresponded with this remarkable artist during a period of twenty years. she was patronised by three successive sovereigns, and from william iv. she received a small pension. she then yielded to the wish of the earl of morton that she should cease to travel, and settled at birmingham, where, several years afterwards, she married, and resumed, as mrs. wright, the pursuit of her profession. ballard's menagerie held a respectable position between the time of polito and miles and that of wombwell and atkins. the newspapers of the period do not inform us, however, from whose menagerie it was that the leopard escaped which created so much consternation one summer night in . the caravans were on their way to bartholomew fair, when, between ten and eleven o'clock at night, while passing along piccadilly, the horses attached to one of them were scared by some noise, or other cause of alarm, and became restive. the caravan was overturned and broken, and a leopard and two monkeys made their escape. the leopard ran into the basement of an unfinished house near st. james's church, and one of the monkeys into an oyster-shop, the proprietor of which, hearing that a leopard was loose, immediately closed the door. what became of the other monkey is not stated. the keepers ran about, calling for a blanket and cords, to secure the leopard; but every person they accosted shut their doors, or took to their heels, on learning the purpose for which such appliances were required. after some delay, a cage was backed against the opening by which the leopard had entered the building, below which it growled threateningly as it crouched in the darkness. with some risk and difficulty, it was got into the cage, but not until it had bitten the arm of one of the keepers so severely that he was obliged to proceed to st. george's hospital for surgical aid. malcolm, describing bartholomew fair as it was seventy years ago, says,--"those who wish to form an idea of this scene of depravity may go at eleven o'clock in the evening. they may then form some conception of the dreadful scenes that have been acted there in former days. the visitor will find all uproar. shouts, drums, trumpets, organs, the roaring of beasts, assailing the ear; while the blaze of torches and glare of candles confuse sight, and present as well the horror of executions, and the burning of martyrs, and the humours of a fair." though, "the blaze of torches and glare of candles" cannot be said to constitute a "scene of depravity," and "shouts, drums, trumpets, organs, the roaring of beasts," though tending to produce an "uproar," cannot be accepted as evidence of vice, since the former sounds accompany the civic procession of the th of november, and the latter are heard in the zoological gardens, the newspapers of the period bear testimony to the existence of a considerable amount of riot and disorder at the late hour mentioned by malcolm. in those days, when the lighting was defective and the police inefficient, it is not surprising that the "roughs" had their way when the more respectable portion of the frequenters of the fair had retired, and that scenes occurred such as the more efficient police of the present day have had some difficulty in suppressing on sunday evenings in the principal thoroughfares of islington and pentonville. the newspapers of the period referred to by malcolm afford no other support to his statement than accounts of the disorder and mischief produced by the rushing through the fair at night of hordes of young men and boys, apparently without anything being attempted for the prevention of the evil. in , two bands of these ruffians met, and their collision caused two stalls to be knocked down, when the upsetting of a lamp on a stove caused the canvas to ignite, and a terrible disaster was only prevented by the exertions of a gentleman who was on the spot in extinguishing the flames. in many persons were thrown down in one of the wild rushes of the "roughs," and an infant was dashed from its mother's arms, and trampled to death. richardson, who was always on the alert for novelties, introduced in , at portsmouth, the famous josephine girardelli, who in the same year exhibited her remarkable feats in a room in new bond street. the following hand-bill sufficiently indicates their nature:-- "wonders will never cease!--the great phenomena of nature. signora josephine girardelli (just arrived from the continent), who has had the honour of appearing before most of the crowned heads of europe, will exhibit the powers of resistance against heat, every day, until further notice, at mr. laxton's rooms, , new bond street. she will, without the least symptoms of pain, put boiling melted lead into her mouth, and emit the same with the imprint of her teeth thereon; red-hot irons will be passed over various parts of her body; she will walk over a bar of red-hot iron with her naked feet; will wash her hands in aquafortis; put boiling oil in her mouth! the above are but a few of the wonderful feats she is able to go through. her performances will commence at , , , and o'clock. admission _s._ any lady or gentleman being dubious of the above performances taking place, may witness the same, gratis, if not satisfied. parties may be accommodated by a private performance, by applying to the conductor." the portrait of this fire queen, as she would be styled at the present day, was engraved by page, and published by smeeton, st. martin's lane. it represents her in her performing costume, a short spangled jacket, worn over a dress of the fashion of that day; the features are regular and striking, but their beauty is of a rather masculine type. the hair appears dark, and is arranged in short curls. elliston engaged in a show speculation at this time, having contracted with a dutchman, named sampoeman, for the exhibition of a dwarf, named simon paap. he hired a room in piccadilly for the purpose and engaged an interpreter; but the speculation was a failure, and elliston was glad to obtain sampoeman's consent to the cancelling of the contract. he made a more successful venture when, at the close of a bad theatrical season at birmingham, he announced the advent of a bohemian giant, who would toss about, like a ball, a stone weighing nearly a ton. few modern giants have possessed the strength ascribed to the seven-feet men of old, and such an athlete as the bohemian would have been worth a visit. the theatre was filled, therefore, for the first time that season; but when the overture had been performed, and the occupants of the gallery were beginning to testify impatience, elliston appeared before the curtain, looking grave and anxious, as on such occasions he could look to perfection. evincing the deepest emotion, he informed the expectant audience that the perfidious bohemian had disappointed him, and had not arrived. "here," said he, producing a number of letters from his pockets, "are letters which must satisfy every one that i am not to blame for this disappointment, which i assure you, ladies and gentlemen, is to me one of the bitterest of my existence. as they are numerous and lengthy, and are all written in german, you will, i am sure, excuse me from reading them; but, as further evidence of the good faith in which i have acted in this matter, you shall see the stone." the curtain was drawn half-way up, and the disappointed brums were consoled with the sight of an enormous mass of stone, and with the announcement that they would receive, on leaving the theatre, vouchers entitling them to admission to the boxes on the following night, on payment of a shilling. elliston thus obtained two good houses at no other extra expense than a few shillings for the cartage of the pretended giant's stone ball, the bohemian being merely a creation of his own fertile imagination. sampoeman's arrangement with elliston having proved a failure, the little dutchman was transferred to gyngell, who exhibited him in his show in bartholomew fair and elsewhere, in . there are three portraits of simon paap in existence, showing a striking resemblance to little mr. stratton, commonly known as tom thumb. one of them, drawn by woolley, and engraved by worship, probably for advertising purposes, bears the following inscription:-- mr. simon paap. "_the celebrated dutch dwarf, years of age, weighs pounds, and only inches high; had the honour of being presented to the prince regent and the whole of the royal family at carleton house, may th, , and was introduced by mr. dan. gyngell to the right honourable the lord mayor, sept. st, ; and was exhibited in the course of days in smithfield to upwards of , persons; is universally admitted to be the greatest wonder of the age._" another portrait, engraved by cooper, and published by robins and co., is better executed; but the third is a poor sketch, taken three years later, and unsigned. richardson presented this year, on the first day of bartholomew fair, _the maid and the magpie_, and a pantomime, "expressly written for this theatre," entitled _harlequin in the deep_, terminating with a panorama, "taken from the spot, by one of our most eminent artists," representing longwood, in the island of st. helena, and the adjacent scenery, interesting to the public at that time as the place of exile selected by the powers lately in arms against france for napoleon i. pocock's drama was, of course, greatly abridged, for drama and pantomime, with a comic song between, were got through in half an hour, and often in twenty minutes, when the influx of visitors rendered it expedient to abbreviate the performance. shuter's signal, corrupted into _john orderly_, was used by richardson on such occasions. a daily change of performances had at this time become necessary, and richardson presented on the second day "an entire new chinese romantic melodrama," called _the children of the desert_, and a comic pantomime, entitled _harlequin and the devil_. on the third day the pantomime was the same, preceded by "an entire new melodrama," called _the roman wife_. this year there first appeared in the fair an eccentric character named james sharp england, known as "the flying pieman." he was always neatly dressed, with a clean white apron before him, but wore no hat, and had his hair powdered and tied behind in a queue. like the famous tiddy-dol of a century earlier, he aimed at a profitable notoriety through a fantastic exterior and a droll manner; and he succeeded, his sales of plum-pudding, which he carried before him on a board, and vended in slices, being very great wherever he appeared. the present representative of the perambulating traders of the eccentric order is a man who has for many years strolled about the western districts of the metropolis, wearing clean white sleeves and a black velvet cap placed jauntily on his head, and carrying before him a tray of what, in oily and mellifluous accents, he proclaims to be, "brandy balls as big as st. paul's! oh, _so_ nice! they are all sugar and brandy!" the following year is memorable among showmen, and especially among menagerists, for the attack of ballard's lioness on the exeter mail-coach. on the night of the th of october, the caravans containing the animals were standing in a line along the side of the road, near the inn called the winterslow hut, seven miles from salisbury, to the fair of which city the menagerie was on its way. the coach had just stopped at this inn for the guard to deliver his bag of local letters, when one of the leaders was attacked by some large animal. the alarm and confusion produced by this incident were so great that two of the inside passengers left the coach, ran into the house, and locked themselves in a room above stairs; while the horses kicked and plunged so violently that the coachman feared that the coach would be overturned. it was soon perceived by the coachman and guard, by the light of the lamps, that the assailant was a large lioness. a mastiff attacked the beast, which immediately left the horse, and turned upon him; the dog then fled, but was pursued and killed by the lioness about forty yards from the coach. an alarm being given, ballard and his keepers pursued the lioness to a granary in a farm-yard, where she ran underneath the building, and was there barricaded in to prevent her escape. she growled for some time so loudly as to be heard half a mile distant. the excited spectators called loudly to the guard to despatch her with his blunderbuss, which he seemed disposed to attempt, but ballard cried out, "for god's sake, don't kill her! she cost me five hundred pounds, and she will be as quiet as a lamb if not irritated." this arrested the guard's hand, and he did not fire. the lioness was afterwards easily enticed from beneath the granary by the keepers, and taken back to her cage. the horse was found to be severely lacerated about the neck and chest, the lioness having fastened the talons of her fore feet on each side of his throat, while the talons of her hind feet were forced into his chest, in which position she hung until attacked by the dog. death being inevitable, a fresh horse was procured, and the coach proceeded on its journey, after having been detained three-quarters of an hour. a coloured print of this encounter adorns, or did thirty years ago adorn, the parlour of the winterslow hut, and was executed, according to the inscription, from the narrative of joseph pike, the guard, who, next to the lioness, is the most conspicuous object in the group. the lioness has seized the off leader by the throat, and the guard is standing on his seat with a levelled carbine, as if about to fire. in the foreground is the dog, which looks small for a mastiff, as if diminished by the artist for the purpose of making the lioness appear larger by the comparison, as the human figures on the show-cloths of the menageries always are. the terrified faces in the inside of the coach, and at the upper windows of the inn, and the blue coats and yellow vests of the outside passengers, each grasping an umbrella or a carpet-bag, as if determined not to die without a struggle, make up a vivid and sensational picture, which would have found immediate favour with the conductor of the 'police news,' had such a periodical existed in those days. the following year was signalised by the first appearance at bartholomew fair of the learned pig, toby, who was exhibited by a showman named hoare. there seems to have been a succession of learned pigs bearing the same name, on the same principle, probably, as richardson's theatre continues to be advertised at easter or whitsuntide as at the crystal palace, or the agricultural hall, or the spaniards, at hampstead heath, twenty years after the component parts of the structure were dispersed under the auctioneer's hammer. the wonder of was an athletic french woman, who was advertised as follows:-- "the strongest woman in europe, the celebrated french female hercules, madame gobert, who will lift with her teeth a table five feet long and three feet wide, with several persons seated upon it; also carry thirty-six weights, fifty-six pounds each, equal to lbs. and will disengage herself from them without any assistance; will carry a barrel containing bottles; also an anvil pounds weight, on which they will forge with four hammers at the same time she supports it on her stomach; she will also lift with her hair the same anvil, swing it from the ground, and suspend it in that position to the astonishment of every beholder; will take up a chair by the hind stave with her teeth, and throw it over her head ten feet from her body. her travelling caravan (weighing two tons) on its road from harwich to leominster, owing to the neglect of the driver and badness of the road, sunk in the mud, nearly to the box of the wheels; the two horses being unable to extricate it, she descended, and, with apparent ease, disengaged the caravan from its situation, without any assistance whatever." caulfield says that he visited the show "for the purpose of accurately observing her manner of performance, which was by lying extended at length on her back on three chairs; pillows were then placed over her legs, thighs, and stomach, over those two thick blankets, and then a moderately thick deal board; the thirty-six weights were then placed on the board, beginning at the bottom of the legs, and extending upwards above the knees and thighs, but none approaching towards the stomach. she held the board on each side with her hands, and when the last weight was put on, she pushed the board upwards on one side, and tumbled the weights to the ground. on the whole, there appeared more of trick than of personal strength in this feat. her next performance was raising the anvil (which might weigh nearly lbs.) from the ground with her hair, which is thick, black, and as strong as that in the tail of a horse; this is platted on each side, and fixed to two cords, which are attached to the anvil; then rising from a bending to an erect posture, she raises and swings the anvil several times backwards and forwards through her legs. her next feat was raising a table with her teeth, a slight, rickety thing, made of deal, with a bar across the legs, which, upon her grasping it, is sustained against her thighs, and enables her more easily to swing it round several times, maintaining her hold only by her teeth. the chair she makes nothing of, but canters it over her head like a plaything. that she is a wonderfully strong woman is evident, but that she can perform what is promised in her bills is a notorious untruth. she has an infant which now sucks at her breast, about eleven months old, that lifts, with very little exertion, a quarter of a hundred weight." greenwich and stepney fairs became popular places of resort with the working classes of the metropolis during the second decade of the present century. old showmen assert that the former was then declining, a state of things which they ascribe to the growing popularity of the latter; and it is certain that the number of persons who resort to a fair is no criterion of the number, size, and quality of the shows by which it is attended, or of the gains of the showmen. croydon fair was never visited by so many thousands of persons as in the years of its decadence, which commenced with the opening of the railway; but the average expenditure of each person, so far from increasing in the same proportion, must have considerably diminished. the easter fair at greenwich was the opening event of the season, and during its best days richardson's theatre always occupied the best position. john cartlitch, the original representative of mazeppa, and james barnes, afterwards famous as the pantaloon of the covent garden pantomimes, were members of richardson's company at this time; and it was joined at greenwich by nelson lee, well known to the present generation as an enterprising theatrical manager and a prolific producer of pantomimes, but at that time fresh from school, with no other experience of theatrical business than he had gained during a brief engagement as a supernumerary at the old royalty to serve as the foundation of the fame to which he aspired. james and nelson lee were the sons of colonel lee, who commanded a line regiment of infantry during the period of the peninsular war. at their father's death, the elder boy was articled to a wine merchant in the city of london, but evinced so much dislike to trade, and such strong theatrical proclivities, that the articles were cancelled, and he was placed under the tuition of bradley, the famous swordsman of the coburg. he declined a second time, however, to fulfil his engagement, and, leaving bradley at the expiration of the first year, joined bannister's circus company, in what capacity my researches have failed to show. the whitsuntide fair at greenwich was followed at this time by a small fair at deptford, on the occasion of the annual official visit of the master of the trinity house, which was always made on the morrow of the festival of the trinity. ealing, fairlop, mitcham, and camberwell followed; then came bartholomew; the round of the fairs within ten miles of the metropolis being completed by enfield and croydon. richardson generally proceeded from ealing to portsmouth, where the three weeks' town fair was immediately followed by another of a week's duration on portsdown hill. one of the many stories which are current among showmen and actors of his eccentricities of character has its scene at a public-house on the portsmouth road, at which he had, in the preceding year, been refused water and provender for his horses, the innkeeper growling that he had been "done" once by a showman, and did not want to have anything more to do with show folks. richardson bore the insult in his mind, and on approaching the house again sent his company forward, desiring each to order a glass of brandy-and-water, but not to touch it until he joined them. twenty glasses of brandy-and-water, all wanted at once, was an unprecedented demand upon that roadside hostelry; and the landlord, as he summoned all his staff to assist him, wondered what could be the cause of such an influx of visitors. while the beverage was being concocted the waggons came up, with richardson walking at the head. "here we are, governor!" exclaimed one of the actors, who had, in the meantime, strolled out upon a little green before the inn. "hullo!" said richardson, affecting surprise. "i thought you had gone on to the black bull. what are you all doing here?" "waiting for you to pay for the brandy-and-water, governor," replied the comedian. "not if i know it!" returned richardson, with a scowl at the expectant innkeeper. "that's the crusty fellow that wouldn't give the poor beasts a pail of water and a mouthful of hay last year, and not a shilling of my money shall ever go into his pocket. so come on, my lads, and i'll stand glasses all round at the black bull." and with these words he strode on, followed by his company, leaving the disappointed innkeeper aghast behind his twenty glasses of brandy-and-water. at portsmouth some dissension arose between richardson and william cooke, whose equestrians, as the consequence or the cause, paraded in front of the theatre, and prevented free access to it. "we must move them chaps from before our steps, lewis," said richardson to his stage-manager; and having a basket-horse among his properties, he had some squibs and crackers affixed to it, and sent one of the company to caper in it in the rear of cooke's horses. very few of the horses used for circus parades being trained for the business of the ring, the fireworks no sooner began to fizz and bang than the equine obstructives became so restive that cooke found it expedient to recall them to his own parade waggon. richardson always returned to the metropolis for bartholomew fair, where the shows were, in , arranged for the first time in the manner described by hone five years later. they had previously formed a block on the site of the sheep-pens; but this year swings and roundabouts were excluded, so as to preserve the area open, and the shows were built round the sides of the quadrangle. as the fair existed at this time, there were small uncovered stalls from the skinner street corner of giltspur street, along the whole length of the churchyard; and on the opposite side of giltspur street there were like stalls from the newgate street corner, along the front of the compter prison. at these stalls were sold fruit, oysters, toys, gingerbread, baskets, and other articles of trifling value. they were held by the small fry of the stall-keeping fraternity, who lacked means to pay for space and furnish out a tempting display. the fronts of these standings were towards the passengers in the carriage-way. then, with occasional distances of three or four feet for footways from the road to the pavement, began lines of covered stalls, with their open fronts opposite the fronts of the houses and close to the curbstone, and their enclosed backs to the road. on the st. sepulchre's side they extended to cock lane, and thence to the smithfield corner of giltspur street, then, turning the corner into smithfield, they extended to hosier lane, and from thence all along the west side of smithfield to cow lane, where, on that side, they terminated in a line with the opposite corner leading to st. john street, where the line was resumed, and continued to smithfield bars, and there, on the west side, ended. crossing over to the east side, and returning south, these covered stalls commenced opposite to their termination on the west, and ran towards smithfield, turning into which they extended westerly towards the pig-market, and thence to long lane, from which point they ran along the east side of smithfield to the great gate of cloth fair. from duke street they continued along the south side to the great front gate of st. bartholomew's hospital, and from thence to the carriage entrance of the hospital, from whence they extended along giltspur street to the compter, where they joined the uncovered stalls. these covered stalls, thus surrounding smithfield, belonged to dealers in gingerbread, toys, hardwares, pocketbooks, trinkets, and articles of all prices, from a halfpenny to ten shillings. the largest stalls were those of the toy-sellers, some of which had a frontage of twenty-five feet, and many of eighteen feet. the frontage of the majority of the stalls was eight to twelve feet; they were six or seven feet high in front, and five at the back, and all formed of canvas stretched upon a light frame-work of wood; the canvas roofs sloped to the backs, which were enclosed by canvas to the ground. the fronts were open to the thronging passengers, for whom a clear way was preserved on the pavements between the stalls and the houses, all of which, necessarily, had their shutters up and their doors closed. the shows had their fronts towards the area of smithfield, and their backs to the backs of the stalls, without any passage between them in any part. the area of smithfield was thus entirely open, and persons standing in the carriage-way could see all the shows at one view. they surrounded smithfield entirely, except on the north side. against the pens in the centre there were no shows, the space between being kept free for spectators and persons making their way to the exhibitions. yet, although no vehicle of any kind was permitted to pass, this immense carriage-way was always so thronged as to be almost impassable. officers were stationed at the giltspur street, hosier lane, and duke street entrances to prevent carriages and horsemen from entering, the only ways by which these were allowed ingress to smithfield being through cow lane, chick lane, smithfield bars, and long lane; and they were to go on and pass, without stopping, through one or other of these entrances, and without turning into the body of the fair. the city officers, to whom was committed the execution of these regulations, enforced them with rigour, never swerving from their instructions, but giving no just ground of offence to those whom the regulations displeased. the shows were very numerous this year. there were four menageries, the proprietors of which are not named in the newspapers of the day, which inform us further that there was "the usual variety of conjurors, wire-dancers, giants, dwarfs, fat children, learned pigs, albinoes, &c." ballard, wombwell, and atkins were probably among the menagerists, though i have found no bill or other memorial of either of the two great menageries of the second quarter of the eighteenth century of an earlier date than . gyngell, like richardson, never missed bartholomew fair in those days; and he was now supported by a clever grown-up family, consisting of joseph, who was a good juggler and balancer; horatio, who, besides being a dancer, was a self-taught artist of considerable ability; george, who was a pyrotechnist; and louisa, a very beautiful young woman and graceful tight-rope dancer, who afterwards fell, and broke one of her arms, in ascending from the stage of covent garden theatre to the gallery. nelson lee joined gyngell's company on the termination of his engagement with richardson; and, having learned the juggling business from a frenchman in the _troupe_, shortly afterwards exhibited his skill at the adelphi, and other london theatres. chapter x. saker and the lees--richardson's theatre--wombwell, the menagerist--the lion fights at warwick--maughan, the showman--miss hipson, the fat girl--lydia walpole, the dwarf--the persian giant and the fair circassian--ball's theatre--atkins's menagerie--a mare with seven feet--hone's visit to richardson's theatre--samwell's theatre--clarke's circus--brown's theatre of arts--ballard's menagerie--toby, the learned pig--william whitehead, the fat boy--elizabeth stock, the giantess--chappell and pike's theatre--the spotted boy--wombwell's "bonassus"--gouffe, the man-monkey--de berar's phantasmagoria--scowton's theatre--death of richardson. nelson lee had just completed a round of engagements at the london theatres when, in , his brother, having terminated his engagement with bannister's circus, came to the metropolis, and fitted up an unoccupied factory in the old kent road as a theatre. nelson joined him in the enterprise, which for a time was tolerably successful; but they had omitted the requisite preliminary of obtaining a licence, and one night a strong force of constables invaded the theatre, and arrested every one present, audience as well as actors, with one exception. saker, who afterwards won some distinction as a comedian, ascended into a loft on the first alarm, and drew up the ladder by which he had escaped. when all was quiet, he descended, and left the building through a window. the watch-houses of southwark, newington, camberwell, and greenwich were filled with the offenders, most of whom, however, were discharged on the following day, while the lees, who pleaded ignorance of the law, escaped with a small fine. the same year witnessed the final performances of "lady holland's mob." about five thousand of the rabble of the city assembled in the neighbourhood of skinner street, about midnight of the eve of st. bartholomew, and roared and rioted till between three and four o'clock next morning, without interference from the watch or the constables. from this time, however, this annual saturnalia was not observed, or was observed so mildly that the newspapers contain no record of the circumstance. in , richardson presented his patrons with a drama called _the virgin bride_, and an extravaganza entitled _tom, logic, and jerry_, founded upon moncrieff's drama, and concluding with a panorama of the metropolis. on the third day, a romantic drama called _the wanderer_ was substituted. wombwell's menagerie comes prominently into notice about this time. its proprietor is said to have begun life as a cobbler in monmouth street, seven dials, then a famous mart of the second-hand clothes trade, and now called dudley street. the steps by which he subsequently advanced to the position of an importer of wild animals and proprietor of one of the largest and finest collections that ever travelled are unknown; but that he preceded jamrach and rice in the former vocation is proved by the existence of a small yellow card, bearing the device of a tiger, and the inscription-- wombwell, wild beast merchant, _commercial road_, london. _all sorts of foreign animals, birds, &c., bought, sold, or exchanged, at the repository, or the travelling menagerie._ wombwell never missed bartholomew fair, as long as it continued to be held, but a story is told of him which shows that he was once very near doing so. his menagerie was at newcastle-on-tyne within a fortnight of the time when it should be in smithfield, and it did not seem possible to reach london in time; but, being in the metropolis on some business connected with his commercial road establishment, he found that atkins was advertising that his menagerie would be "the only wild beast show in the fair." the rivalry which appears to have existed at that time between the two great menagerists prompted wombwell to post down to newcastle, and immediately commence a forced march to london. by making extraordinary exertions, he succeeded in reaching the metropolis on the morning of the first day of the fair. but his elephant had exerted itself so much on the journey that it died within a few hours after its arrival on the ground. atkins heard by some means of his rival's loss, and immediately placarded the neighbourhood with the announcement that his menagerie contained "the only living elephant in the fair." wombwell resolved that his rival should not make capital of his loss in this manner, and had a long strip of canvas painted with the words--"the only dead elephant in the fair." this bold bid for public patronage proved a complete success. a dead elephant was a greater rarity than a live one, and his show was crowded every day of the fair, while atkins's was comparatively deserted. the keen rivalry which this story illustrates did not endure for ever, for, during the period of my earliest recollections, from forty to fifty years ago, the two great menageries never visited croydon fair together, their proprietors agreeing to take that popular resort in their tours in alternate years. i never failed, in my boyhood, to visit wombwell's, or atkins's show, whichever visited croydon fair, and could never sufficiently admire the gorgeously-uniformed bandsmen, whose brazen instruments brayed and blared from noon till night on the exterior platform, and the immense pictures, suspended from lofty poles, of elephants and giraffes, lions and tigers, zebras, boa constrictors, and whatever else was most wonderful in the brute creation, or most susceptible of brilliant colouring. the difference in the scale to which the zoological rarities within were depicted on the canvas, as compared with the figures of men that were represented, was a very characteristic feature of these pictorial displays. the boa constrictor was given the girth of an ox, and the white bear should have been as large as an elephant, judged by the size of the sailors who were attacking him among his native ice-bergs. i have a perfect recollection of wombwell's two famous lions, nero and wallace, and their keeper, "manchester jack," as he was called, who used to enter nero's cage, and sit upon the animal, open his mouth, etc. it is said that, when van amburgh arrived in england with his trained lions, tigers, and leopards, arrangements were made for a trial of skill and daring between him and manchester jack, which was to have taken place at southampton, but fell through, owing to the american showing the white feather. the story seems improbable, for van amburgh's daring in his performances has never been excelled. lion-tamers, like gymnasts, are generally killed half-a-dozen times by rumour, though they die in their beds in about the same proportion as other men; and i remember hearing an absurd story which conferred upon manchester jack the unenviable distinction of having his head bitten off by a lion. he was said to have been exhibiting the fool-hardy trick, with which van amburgh's name was so much associated, of putting his head in the lion's mouth, and to have been awakened to a sense of his temerity and its consequences by hearing the animal growl, and feeling its jaw close upon his neck. "does he whisk his tail, bill?" he was reported to have said to another keeper while in this horrible situation. "yes," replied bill. "then i am a dead man!" groaned manchester jack. a moment afterwards, the lion snapped its formidable jaws, and bit off the keeper's head. such was the story; but it is contradicted by the fact that manchester jack left the menagerie with a whole skin, and for many years afterwards kept an inn at taunton, where he died in . nero's tameness and docility made him a public favourite, but the "lion," _par excellence_, of wombwell's show, after the lion-baitings at warwick, was wallace. at the time when the terrible death of the lion-tamer, macarthy, had invested the subject with extraordinary interest, a narrative appeared in the columns of a metropolitan morning journal, purporting to relate the experiences of "an ex-lion king," in which the story of these combats was revived, but in a manner not easily reconciled with the statement of the man who communicated his reminiscences to the "special commissioner" of the journal in question, that he knew the animals and their keeper. "did you ever," the ex-lion king was reported to have said, "hear of old wallace's fight with the dogs? george wombwell was at very low water, and not knowing how to get his head up again, he thought of a fight between an old lion he had--sometimes called wallace, sometimes nero--and a dozen of mastiff dogs. wallace was as tame as a sheep; i knew him well--i wish all lions were like him. the prices of admission ranged from a guinea up to five guineas, and every seat was taken, and had the menagerie been three times as large it would have been full. it was a queer go, and no mistake! sometimes the old lion would scratch a lump out of a dog, and sometimes the dogs would make as if they were going to worry the old lion; but neither side showed any serious fight, and at length the patience of the audience got exhausted, and they went away in disgust. george's excuse was, 'we can't make 'em fight, can we, if they won't?' there was no getting over this, and george cleared over two thousand pounds by the night's work." according to the newspaper reports of the time, two of these lion-baitings took place; and some vague report or dim recollection of the events as they actually occurred seems to have been in the mind of the "ex-lion king" when he gave the preceding account of them. the combats were said to have originated in a bet between two sporting gentlemen, and the dogs were not a dozen mastiffs, but six bull-dogs, and attacked the lion in "heats" of three. the first fight, the incidents of which were similar in character to those described in the foregoing story, was between nero and the dogs, and took place in july, ; at which time the menagerie was located in the old factory yard, in the outskirts of warwick, on the road to northampton. this not being considered satisfactory and conclusive, a second encounter was arranged, in which wallace, a younger animal, was substituted for the old lion, with very different results. every dog that faced the lion was killed or disabled, the last being carried about in wallace's mouth as a rat is by a terrier or a cat. shows had been excluded from greenwich fair this year, and bartholomew's was looked forward to by the showmen as the more likely on that account to yield an abundant harvest. hone says that greenwich fair was this year suppressed by the magistrates, and the absence of shows may be regarded as evidence of some bungling and wrong-headed interference; but a score of booths for drinking and dancing were there, only two of which, algar's and the albion, made any charge for admission to the "assembly room," the charge for tickets at these being a shilling and sixpence respectively. algar's was three hundred and twenty-three feet long by sixty wide, seventy feet of the length constituting the refreshment department, and the rest of the space being devoted to dancing, to the music of two harps, three violins, bass viol, two clarionets, and flute. according to the account preserved in hone's 'everyday book,' the number of shows assembled in smithfield this year was twenty-two, of which, one was a theatre for dramatic performances, five theatres for the various entertainments usually given in circuses, four menageries, one an exhibition of glass-blowing, one a peep-show, one a mare with seven feet, and the remaining nine, exhibitions of giants, dwarfs, albinoes, fat children, etc. of course, the theatre was richardson's, and the following bill was posted on the exterior, and given to every one who asked for it on entering:-- [asterism] _change of performance each day._ richardson's theatre. this day will be performed, an entire new melo-drama, called the "wandering outlaw; or, the hour of retribution. "gustavus, elector of saxony, _mr. wright_. orsina, baron of holstein, _mr. cooper_. ulric and albert, vassals to orsina, _messrs. grove_ and _moore_. st. clair, the wandering outlaw, _mr. smith_. rinalda, the accusing spirit, _mr. darling_. monks, vassals, hunters, &c. rosabella, wife to the outlaw, _mrs. smith_. nuns and ladies. "the piece concludes with the death of orsina, and the appearance of the accusing spirit! "_the entertainments to conclude with a new comic harlequinade, with new scenery, tricks, dresses, and decorations, called_ "harlequin faustus or, the devil will have his own. "luciferno, _mr. thomas_. dæmon amozor, afterwards pantaloon, _mr. wilkinson_. dæmon ziokos, afterwards clown, _mr. hayward_. violencello player, _mr. hartem_. baker, _mr. thompson_. landlord, _mr. wilkins_. fisherman, _mr. rae_. doctor faustus, afterwards harlequin, _mr. salter_. adelada, afterwards columbine, _miss wilmot_. attendant dæmons, sprites, fairies, ballad singers, flower girls, &c., &c. _the pantomime will finish with_ a splendid panorama, _painted by the first artists_. boxes, _s._ pit, _s._ gallery, _d._" the theatre had an elevation exceeding thirty-feet, and occupied a hundred feet in width. the back of the exterior platform, or parade-waggon, was formed of green baize, before which deeply fringed crimson curtains were festooned, except at two places where the money-takers sat in wide and roomy projections, fitted up like gothic shrines, with columns and pinnacles. fifteen hundred variegated lamps were disposed over various parts of this platform, some of them depending from the top in the shape of chandeliers and lustres, and others in wreaths and festoons. a band of ten performers, in scarlet dresses, similar to those worn by the queen's yeomen, played continually, passing alternately from the parade-waggon and the orchestra, and from the interior to the open air again. the auditorium was about a hundred feet long, and thirty feet wide, and was hung with green baize and crimson festoons. the seats were rows of planks, rising gradually from the ground at the end, and facing the stage, without any distinction of boxes, pit, or gallery. the stage was elevated, and there was a painted proscenium, with a green curtain, and the royal arms above, and an orchestra lined with crimson cloth. between the orchestra and the bottom row of seats was a large space, which, after the seats were filled, and greatly to the discomfiture of the lower seat-holders, was nearly occupied by spectators. there were at least a thousand persons present on the occasion of hone's visit. "the curtain drew up," he says, "and presented the wandering outlaw, with a forest scene and a cottage; the next scene was a castle; the third was another scene in the forest. the second act commenced with a scene of an old church and a market-place. the second scene was a prison, and a ghost appeared to the tune of the evening hymn. the third scene was the castle that formed the second scene in the first act, and the performance was here enlivened by a murder. the fourth scene was rocks, with a cascade, and there was a procession to an unexecuted execution; for a ghost appeared, and saved the wandering outlaw from a fierce-looking headsman, and the piece ended. then a plump little woman sang, 'he loves, and he rides away,' and the curtain drew up to harlequin faustus, wherein, after columbine and a clown, the most flaming character was the devil, with a red face and hands, in a red spanish mantle and vest, red 'continuations,' stockings and shoes ditto to follow, a red spanish hat and plume above, and a red 'brass bugle horn.' as soon as the fate of faustus was concluded, the sound of a gong announced the happy event, and these performances were, in a quarter of an hour, repeated to another equally intelligent and brilliant audience." john clarke, an elderly, gentlemanly-looking showman, whom i saw a few years afterwards "mountebanking" on a piece of waste land at norwood, and whose memory, in spite of his infirmity of temper, is cherished by the existing generation of equestrians and acrobats, was here with his circus, a large show, with its back against the side of samwell's, and its front in a line with hosier lane, and therefore looking towards smithfield bars. the admission to this show was sixpence. the spacious platform outside was lighted with gas, a distinction from the other shows in the fair which extended to the interior, where a single hoop, about two feet six inches in diameter, with little jets of gas about an inch and a half apart, was suspended over the arena. "the entertainment," says hone, "commenced by a man dancing on the tight rope. the rope was removed and a light bay horse was mounted by a female in trousers, with a pink gown fully frilled, flounced, and ribboned, with the shoulders in large puffs. while the horse circled the ring at full speed, she danced upon him, and skipped with a hoop like a skipping-rope; she performed other dexterous feats, and concluded by dancing on the saddle with a flag in each hand, while the horse flew round the ring with great velocity. these and the subsequent performances were enlivened by tunes from a clarionet and horn, and jokes from a clown, who, when she had concluded, said to an attendant, 'now, john, take the horse off, and whatever you do, rub him down well with a cabbage.' then a man rode and danced on another horse, a very fine animal, and leaped from him three times over garters, placed at a considerable height and width apart, alighting on the horse's back while he was going round. this rider was remarkably dexterous. "in conclusion, the clown got up, and rode with many antic tricks, till, on the sudden, an apparently drunken fellow rushed from the audience into the ring, and began to pull the clown from the horse. the manager interfered, and the people cried, 'turn him out;' but the man persisted, and the clown getting off, offered to help him up, and threw him over the horse's back to the ground. at length the intruder was seated, with his face to the tail, though he gradually assumed a proper position, and, riding as a man thoroughly intoxicated would ride, fell off; he then threw off his hat and great coat, and his waistcoat, and then an under waistcoat, and a third, and a fourth, and more than a dozen waistcoats. upon taking off the last, his trousers fell down, and he appeared in his shirt; whereupon he crouched, and drawing his shirt off in a twinkling, appeared in a handsome fancy dress, leaped into the saddle, rode standing with great grace, received great applause, made his bows, and so the performance concluded." the remainder of the shows of this class charged a penny only for admission. of samwell's, hone says,--"i paid my penny to the money-taker, a slender 'fine lady,' with three feathers in a 'jewelled turban,' and a dress of blue and white muslin, and silver; and within-side i saw the 'fat, contented, easy' proprietor, who was arrayed in corresponding magnificence. if he loved leanness, it was in 'his better half,' for himself had none of it. obesity had disqualified him for activity, and therefore in his immensely tight and large satin jacket, he was, as much as possible, the active commander of his active performers. he superintended the dancing of a young female on the tight rope. then he announced 'a little boy will dance a horn-pipe on the rope,' and he ordered his 'band' inside to play; this was obeyed without difficulty, for it merely consisted of one man, who blew a hornpipe tune on a pan's-pipe; while it went on, the little boy danced on the tight rope; so far it was a hornpipe dance, and no farther. 'the little boy will stand on his head on the rope,' said the manager; and the little boy stood on his head accordingly. then another female danced on the slack wire; and after her came a horse, not a dancing horse, but a 'learned' horse, quite as learned as the horse at ball's theatre." at the show last mentioned was a man who balanced chairs on his chin, and holding a knife in his mouth, balanced a sword on the edge of the knife; he then put a pewter plate on the hilt of the sword horizontally, and so balanced the sword with the plate on the edge of the knife as before, the plate having previously had imparted to it a rotary motion, which it communicated to the sword, and preserved during the balance. he also balanced the sword and plate in like manner, with a crown-piece placed edge-wise between the point of the sword and the knife; and afterwards with two crown-pieces, and then with a key. these feats were accompanied by the jokes and grimaces of a clown, and succeeded by an acrobatic performance by boys, and a hornpipe by the lady of the company. then a learned horse was introduced, and, as desired by his master, indicated a lady who wished to be married, a gentleman who preferred a quart of ale to a sermon, a lady who liked lying in bed when she should be up, and other persons of various proclivities amusing to the rest of the spectators. chappell and pike's was a very large show, fitted up after the manner of richardson's, with a parade, on which a clown and several acrobats in tights and trunks, and young ladies in ballet costume, alternately promenaded and danced, until the interior filled, and the performances commenced. these consisted of tumbling, slack-rope dancing, etc., as at ball's, but better executed. the names of these showmen do not appear again in the records of the london fairs, from which it may be inferred that the show was a new venture, and failed. there was a performer named chappell in the company of richardson's theatre, while under the management of nelson lee; but whether related to the showman of i am unable to say. the performances of "brown's grand troop, from paris," commenced with an exhibition of conjuring; among other tricks, the conjurer gave a boy beer to drink out of a funnel, making him blow through it to show that it was empty, and afterwards applying it to each of the boy's ears, from whence, through the funnel, the beer appeared to reflow, and poured on the ground. afterwards girls danced on the single and double slack wire, and a melancholy-looking clown, among other things, said they were "as clever as the barber and blacksmith who shaved magpies at twopence a dozen." the show concluded with a learned horse. the menageries of wombwell and atkins were two of the largest shows in the fair. the back of the former abutted on the side of chappell and pike's theatre, on the north side of smithfield, with the front looking towards giltspur street, at which avenue it was the first show. the front was entirely covered with painted show-cloths representing the animals, with the proprietor's name in immense letters above, and the inscription, "the conquering lion," very conspicuously displayed. there were other show-cloths along the whole length of the side, surmounted by this inscription, stretching out in one line of large capital letters, "nero and wallace, the same lions that fought at warwick." one of the front show-cloths represented the second fight; a lion stood up, with a bleeding dog in his mouth, and his left fore paw resting upon another dog. a third dog was in the act of flying at him ferociously, and one, wounded and bleeding, was retreating. there were seven other show-cloths on this front, with the inscription "nero and wallace" between them. one of these show-cloths, whereon the monarch of the forest was painted, was inscribed, "nero, the great lion, from caffraria." wombwell's collection comprised at this time four lions and a lioness, two leopardesses, with cubs, a hyena, a bitch wolf and cubs, a polar bear, a pair of zebras, two onagers or wild asses, and a large assortment of monkeys and exotic birds. the bills announced "a remarkably fine tigress in the same den with a noble british lion;" but hone notes that this conjunction, the announcement of which was probably suggested by the attractiveness of the lion-tiger cubs and their parents in atkins's menagerie, was not to be seen in reality. the combats at warwick produced a strong desire on the part of the public to see the lions who had figured in them, and the menagerie was crowded each day from morn till night. "manchester jack" entered nero's cage, and invited the visitors to follow, which many ventured to do, paying sixpence for the privilege, on his assurance that they might do so with perfect safety. hone complains of the confusion and disorder which prevailed, and which are inseparable from a crowd, and may be not uncharitably suspected of being exaggerated in some degree by the evident prejudice which had been created in his mind by the lion-baitings at warwick. it is certain, however, that gardens like those of the zoological society afford conditions for the health and comfort of the animals, and for their exhibition to the public, much more favourable than can be obtained in the best regulated travelling caravan, or in buildings such as the tower menagerie and exeter change. it is impossible to do justice to animals which are cooped within the narrow limits of a travelling show, or in any place which does not admit of thorough ventilation. apart from the impracticability of allowing sufficient space and a due supply of air, a considerable amount of discomfort to the animals is inseparable from continuous jolting about the country in caravans, and from the braying of brass bands and the glare of gas at evening exhibitions. it took even the zoological society some time to learn the conditions most favourable to the maintenance of the mammal tribes of tropical countries in a state of health, while subject to the restraint necessary for their safe keeping. too much importance was at first attached to warming the cages in which the monkeys and carnivora of india and africa were kept, and too little to ventilating them. i remember the time when the carnivora-house in the society's gardens was a long, narrow building, with double folding-doors at each end, and a range of cages on each side. the cages were less than half the size of the light and lofty apartments now appropriated to the same species, and were artificially heated to such a degree that the atmosphere resembled that of the small glass-house in kew gardens in which the paper-reed and other examples of the aquatic vegetation of tropical countries are grown, and was rendered more stifling by the strong ammoniacal odour which constantly prevaded it. it was found, however, that the mortality among the animals, notwithstanding all the care that was taken to keep them warm, was very great; and the idea gradually dawned upon the minds of the council of the society that ventilation might be more conducive to the health and longevity of the animals than any amount of heat. as lions and tigers, leopards and hyenas, baboons and monkeys, live, in a state of nature, in the open air of their native forests, the imperfect ventilation of the old carnivora-house and monkey-house seemed, when once the idea was broached, to be a very likely cause of the excessive mortality, which, as lions and tigers cost from a hundred and fifty to two hundred and fifty pounds, was a constant source of heavy demands upon the society's funds. it was determined, therefore, to try the experiment of constructing larger cages, and admitting the pure external air to them; and the results were so satisfactory that everybody wondered that the improved hygienic conditions had not been thought of before. atkins had a very fine collection of the feline genus, and was famous for the production of hybrids between the lion and the tigress. the cubs so produced united some of the external characteristics of both parents, their colour being tawny, marked while they were young with darker stripes, such as may be observed in black kittens, the progeny of a tabby cat. these markings disappeared, however, as the lion-tigers approached maturity, at which time the males had the mane entirely deficient, or very little developed. i remember seeing a male puma and a leopardess in the same cage in this menagerie, but i am unable to state whether the union was fruitful. the display of show-cloths on the outside of this menagerie extended about forty feet in length, and the proprietor's name flamed along the front in coloured lamps. a brass band of eight performers, wearing scarlet tunics and leopard-skin caps, played on the outside; and atkins shouted from time to time, "don't be deceived! the great performing elephant is _here_; also the only lion and tigress in one den to be seen in the fair, or i'll forfeit a thousand guineas! walk up!--walk up!" the following singularly descriptive bill was posted on the outside and wherever else it could be displayed:-- "more wonders in atkins's royal menagerie. under the patronage of his majesty. g. [illustration] r. "wonderful phenomenon in nature! the singular and hitherto deemed impossible occurrence of a lion and tigress cohabiting and producing young, has actually taken place in this menagerie, at windsor. the tigress, on wednesday, the th of october last, produced _three fine cubs_; one of them strongly resembles the tigress; the other two are of a lighter colour, but striped. mr. atkins had the honour (through the kind intervention of the marquis of conyngham) of exhibiting the _lion-tigers_ to his majesty, on the first of november, , at the royal lodge, windsor great park; when his majesty was pleased to observe, they were the greatest curiosity of the beast creation he had ever witnessed. "the royal striped _bengal tigress_ has again whelped three fine cubs, (april ,) two males and one female; the males are white, but striped; the female resembles the tigress, and, singular to observe, she fondles them with all the care of an attentive mother. the sire of the young cubs is the noble male lion. this remarkable instance of subdued temper and association of animals to permit the keeper to enter their den, and introduce their young to the spectators, is the greatest phenomenon in natural philosophy. "that truly singular and wonderful animal, the aurochos. words can only convey but a very confused idea of this animal's shape, for there are few so remarkably formed. its head is furnished with two large horns, growing from the forehead, in a form peculiar to no other animal; from the nostrils to the forehead is a stiff tuft of hair, and underneath the jaw to the neck is a similar brush of hair, and between the forelegs is hair growing about a foot and a half long. the mane is like that of a horse, white, tinged with black, with a beautiful long flowing white tail; the eye remarkably keen, and as large as the eye of the elephant: colour of the animal, dark chesnut; the appearance of the head, in some degree similar to the buffalo, and in some part formed like the goat, the hoof being divided; such is the general outline of this quadruped, which seems to partake of several species. this beautiful animal was brought over by captain white, from the south of africa, and landed in england, september th, ; and is the same animal so frequently mistaken by travellers for the unicorn: further to describe its peculiarities would occupy too much space in a handbill. the only one in england. "that colossal animal, the wonderful performing elephant, upwards of ten feet high!! five tons weight!! his consumption of hay, corn, straw, carrots, water, &c., exceeds lbs. daily. the elephant, the human race excepted, is the most respectable of animals. in size, he surpasses all other terrestrial creatures, and by far exceeds any other travelling animal in england. he has ivory tusks, four feet long, one standing out on each side of his trunk. his trunk serves him instead of hands and arms, with which he can lift up and seize the smallest as well as the largest objects. he alone drags machines which six horses cannot move. to his prodigious strength, he adds courage, prudence, and an exact obedience. he remembers favours as well as injuries; in short, the sagacity and knowledge of this extraordinary animal are beyond anything human imagination can possibly suggest. he will lie down and get up at the word of command, notwithstanding the many fabulous tales of their having no joints in their legs. he will take a sixpence from the floor, and place it in a box he has in the caravan; bolt and unbolt a door; take his keeper's hat off, and replace it; and by the command of his keeper, will perform so many wonderful tricks that he will not only astonish and entertain the audience, but justly prove himself the half-reasoning beast. he is the only elephant now travelling. "a full grown lion and lioness with four cubs, produced december , , at cheltenham. "_male bengal tiger._ next to the lion, the tiger is the most tremendous of the carnivorous class; and whilst he possesses all the bad qualities of the former, seems to be a stranger to the good ones; to pride, to strength, to courage, the lion adds greatness, and sometimes, perhaps, clemency; while the tiger, without provocation, is fierce--without necessity, is cruel. instead of instinct, he hath nothing but a uniform rage, a blind fury; so blind, indeed, so undistinguishing, that he frequently devours his own progeny; and if the tigress offers to defend them he tears in pieces the dam herself. "the _onagra_, a native of the levant, the eastern parts of asia, and the northern parts of africa. this race differs from the zebra, by the size of the body, (which is larger,) slenderness of the legs, and lustre of the hair. the only one now alive in england. "_two zebras_, one full grown, the other in its infant state, in which it seems as if the works of art had been combined with those of nature in this wonderful production. in symmetry of shape, and beauty of colour, it is the most elegant of all quadrupeds ever presented; uniting the graceful figure of a horse, with the fleetness of a stag; beautifully striped with regular lines, black and white. "a nepaul _bison_, only twenty-four inches high. "_panther_, or spotted tiger of buenos ayres, the only one travelling. "a pair of _rattle-tail porcupines_. "striped untamable _hyæna_, a tiger-wolf. "an elegant _leopard_, the handsomest marked animal ever seen. "spotted _laughing hyæna_, the same kind of animal described never to be tamed; but, singular to observe, it is perfectly tame, and its attachment to a dog in the same den is very remarkable. "the spotted _cavy_. "pair of _jackalls_. "pair of interesting _sledge dogs_, brought over by captain parry from one of the northern expeditions; they are used by the esquimaux to draw the sledges on the ice, which they accomplish with great velocitv. "a pair of _rackoons_, from north america. "the _oggouta_, from java. "a pair of jennetts, or wild cats. "the _coatimondi_, or ant-eater. "a pair of those extraordinary and rare birds, pelicans of the wilderness; the only two alive in the three kingdoms.--these birds have been represented on all crests and coats of arms, to cut their breasts open with the points of their bills, and feed their young with their own blood, and are justly allowed by all authors to be the greatest curiosity of the feathered tribe. "_ardea dubia_, or adjutant of bengal, gigantic emew, or linnæus's southern ostrich. the peculiar characteristics that distinguish this bird from the rest of the feathered tribe,--it comes from brazil, in the new continent; it stands from eight to nine feet high when full grown; it is too large to fly, but is capable of outrunning the fleetest horses of arabia; what is still more singular, every quill produces two feathers. the only one travelling. "a pair of rapacious _condor minors_, from the interior of south america, the largest birds of flight in the world when full grown; it is the same kind of bird the indians have asserted to carry off a deer or young calf in their talons, and two of them are sufficient to destroy a buffalo, and the wings are as much as eighteen feet across. "the great _horned owl_ of bohemia. several species of gold and silver pheasants, of the most splendid plumage, from china and peru. yellow-crested cockatoo. scarlet and buff macaws.--admittance to see the whole menagerie, _s._--children _d._--open from ten in the forenoon till feeding-time, half-past nine, _s._" hone says that this menagerie was thoroughly clean, and that the condition of the animals told that they were well taken care of. the elephant, with his head protruded between the stout bars of his house, whisked his proboscis diligently in search of eatables from the spectators, who supplied him with fruit and biscuits, or handed him halfpence which he uniformly conveyed by his trunk to a retailer of gingerbread, and got his money's worth in return. then he unbolted the door to let in his keeper, and bolted it after him; took up a sixpence with his trunk, lifted the lid of a little box fixed against the wall, and deposited it within it, and some time afterwards relifted the lid, and taking out the sixpence with a single motion, returned it to the keeper; he knelt down when told, fired off a blunderbuss, took off the keeper's hat, and afterwards replaced it on his head as well as the man's hand could have done it; in short, he was perfectly docile, and well maintained the reputation of his species for a high degree of intelligence. "the keeper," says hone, "showed every animal in an intelligent manner, and answered the questions of the company readily and with civility. his conduct was rewarded by a good parcel of halfpence when his hat went round with a hope that 'the ladies and gentlemen would not forget the keeper before he showed the lion and tigress.' the latter was a beautiful young animal, with playful cubs about the size of bull-dogs, but without the least fierceness. when the man entered the den, they frolicked and climbed about him like kittens; he took them up in his arms, bolted them in a back apartment, and after playing with the tigress a little, threw back a partition which separated her den from the lion's, and then took the lion by the beard. this was a noble animal; he was couching, and being inclined to take his rest, only answered the keeper's command to rise by extending his whole length, and playfully putting up one of his magnificent paws, as a cat does when in a good humour. the man then took a short whip, and after a smart lash or two upon his back, the lion rose with a yawn, and fixed his eye on his keeper with a look that seemed to say, 'well, i suppose i must humour you.' "the man then sat down at the back of the den, with his back at the partition, and after some ordering and coaxing, the tigress sat on his right hand, and the lion on his left, and, all three being thus seated, he threw his arms round their necks, played with their noses, and laid their heads in his lap. he rose, and the animals with him; the lion stood in a fine majestic position, but the tigress reared, and putting one foot over his shoulder, and patting him with the other, as if she had been frolicking with one of her cubs, he was obliged to check her playfulness. then by coaxing, and pushing him about, he caused the lion to sit down, and while in that position opened the animal's ponderous jaws with his hands, and thrust his face down into the lion's throat, wherein he shouted, and there held his head nearly a minute. after this he held up a common hoop for the tigress to leap through, and she did it frequently. the lion seemed more difficult to move to this sport. he did not appear to be excited by command or entreaty; at last, however, he went through the hoop, and having been once roused, he repeated the action several times; the hoop was scarcely two feet in diameter. the exhibition of these two animals concluded by the lion lying down on his side, when the keeper stretched himself to his whole length upon him, and then calling to the tigress she jumped upon the man, extended herself with her paws upon his shoulders, placed her face sideways upon his, and the whole three lay quiescent till the keeper suddenly slipped himself off the lion's side, with the tigress on him, and the trio gambolled and rolled about on the floor of the den, like playful children on the floor of a nursery. "of the beasts there is not room to say more than that their number was surprising, considering that they formed a better selected collection, and showed in higher condition from cleanliness and good feeding, than any assemblage i ever saw. their variety and beauty, with the usual accessory of monkeys, made a splendid picture. the birds were equally admirable, especially the pelicans and the emew. this show would have furnished a dozen sixpenny shows, at least, to a bartlemy fair twenty years ago." the other menageries were penny shows. one was ballard's, of which the great attraction was still, though nine years had elapsed since the event, the lioness which attacked the exeter mail-coach. the collection contained besides a fine lion, a tiger, a large polar bear, and several smaller quadrupeds, monkeys, and birds. hone has not preserved the name of the owner of the fourth collection, which he says was "a really good exhibition of a fine lion, with leopards, and various other beasts of the forest. they were mostly docile and in good condition. one of the leopards was carried by his keeper a pick-a-back." this was probably morgan's, which we find at this fair three years later. the daily cost of the food of the animals in a menagerie is no trifle. the amount of animal food required for the carnivora in a first class menagerie is about four hundredweight daily, consisting chiefly of the shins, hearts, and heads of bullocks. a full-grown lion or tiger will consume twelve pounds of meat per day, and this is said to have been the allowance in wombwell's menagerie; but it is more, i believe, than is allowed in the gardens of the zoological society. bears are allowed meat only in the winter, their food at other seasons consisting of bread, sopped biscuit, or boiled rice, sweetened with sugar. then there are the elephants, camels, antelopes, etc., to be provided for; and the quantity of hay, cabbages, bread, and boiled rice which an elephant will consume, in addition to the buns and biscuits given to it by the visitors, is, as dominie sampson would say, prodigious. there is a story told of an elephant belonging to a travelling menagerie which escaped from the stable in which it had been placed for the night, and, wandering through the village, found a baker's shop open. it pushed its head in, and, helping itself with its trunk, devoured sixteen four-pound loaves, and was beginning to empty the glass jars of the sweets they contained when the arrival of its keeper interrupted its stolen repast. i now come to the minor exhibitions, of which the first from hosier lane, where it stood at the corner, was a peep-show, in which rudely painted pictures were successively lowered by the showmen, and viewed through circular apertures, fitted with glasses of magnifying power. a green curtain separated the spectators from the outer throng while they gazed upon such strangely contrasted scenes as the murder of weare and the queen of sheba's visit to solomon, the execution of probert and the conversion of st. paul, the greenland whale fishery and the building of babel, wellington at waterloo and daniel in the lions' den! next to this stood a show, on the exterior of which a man beat a drum with one hand, and played a hurdy-gurdy with the other, pausing occasionally to invite the gazers to walk up, and see the living wonders thus announced on the show-cloths:--"_miss hipson, the middlesex wonder, the largest child in the kingdom, when young the handsomest child in the world.--the persian giant.--the fair circassian with silver hair.--the female dwarf, two feet eleven inches high.--two wild indians from the malay islands in the east._" when a company had collected, the wonders were shown from the floor of a caravan on wheels, one side being taken out, and replaced by a curtain, which was drawn or thrown back as occasion required. after the audience had dispersed, hone was permitted by the proprietor of the show, nicholas maughan, of ipswich, to go "behind the curtain," where the artist who accompanied him completed his sketches for the illustrations in the 'every-day book,' while hone entered into conversation with the persons exhibited. "miss hipson, only twelve years of age, is," he says, "remarkably gigantic, or rather corpulent, for her age, pretty, well-behaved, and well-informed; she weighed sixteen stone a few months before, and has since increased in size; she has ten brothers and sisters, nowise remarkable in appearance: her father, who is dead, was a bargeman at brentford. the name of the 'little lady' is lydia walpole; she was born at addiscombe, near yarmouth, and is sociable, agreeable, and intelligent. the fair circassian is of pleasing countenance and manners. the persian giant is a good-natured, tall, stately negro. the two malays could not speak english, except three words, 'drop o' rum,' which they repeated with great glee. one of them, with long hair reaching below the waist, exhibited the posture of drawing a bow. mr. maughan described them as being passionate, and showed me a severe wound on his finger which the little one had given him by biting, while he endeavoured to part him and his countryman, during a quarrel a few days ago. a 'female giant' was one of the attractions of this exhibition, but she could not be shown for illness: miss hipson described her to be a very good young woman. "there was an appearance of ease and good condition, with content of mind, in the persons composing this show, which induced me to put several questions to them, and i gathered that i was not mistaken in my conjecture. they described themselves as being very comfortable, and that they were taken great care of, and well treated by the proprietor, mr. maughan, and his partner in the show. the 'little lady' had a thorough good character from miss hipson as an affectionate creature; and it seems the females obtained exercise by rising early, and being carried out into the country in a post-chaise, where they walked, and thus maintained their health. this was to me the most pleasing show in the fair." between this show and richardson's theatre was a small temporary stable, in which was exhibited a mare with seven feet: the admission to this sight was threepence. the following is a copy of the printed bill:-- "to sportsmen and naturalists.--now exhibiting, one of the greatest living natural curiosities in the world; namely, a thorough-bred chesnut mare, with seven legs! four years of age, perfectly sound, free from blemish, and shod on six of her feet. she is very fleet in her paces, being descended from that famous horse julius cæsar, out of a thorough-bred race mare descended from eclipse, and is remarkably docile and temperate. she is the property of mr. j. checketts, of belgrave hall, leicestershire; and will be exhibited for a few days as above." each of this mare's hind legs, besides its natural foot, had another growing out from the fetlock joint; one of these additions was nearly the size of the natural foot; the third and least grew from the same joint of the fore leg. andrews, the exhibitor, told hone that they grew slowly, and that the new hoofs were, at first, very soft, and exuded during the process of growth. the line of shows on the east side of smithfield, commencing at long lane, began with an exhibition of an indian woman, a chinese lady, and a dwarf; and next to this stood a small exhibition of wax-figures, to which a dwarf and a maori woman were added. on a company being assembled, the showman made a speech: "ladies and gentlemen, before i show you the wonderful prodigies of nature, let me introduce you to the wonderful works of art;" and then he drew a curtain, behind which the wax-figures stood. "this," said he, "ladies and gentlemen, is the famous old mother shipton; and here is the unfortunate jane shore, the beautiful mistress of edward the fourth; next to her is his majesty george the fourth of most glorious memory; and this is queen elizabeth in all her glory; then here you have the princess amelia, the daughter of his late majesty, who is dead; this is mary, queen of scots, who had her head cut off; and this is o'brien, the famous irish giant; this man here is thornton, who was tried for the murder of mary ashford; and this is the exact resemblance of othello, the moor of venice, who was a jealous husband, and depend upon it every man who is jealous of his wife will be as black as that negro. now, ladies and gentlemen, the two next are a wonderful couple, john and margaret scott, natives of dunkeld, in scotland; they lived about ninety years ago; john scott was a hundred and five years old when he died, and margaret lived to be a hundred and twelve; and, what is more remarkable, there is not a soul living can say he ever heard them quarrel." here he closed the curtain, and while undrawing another, continued his address as follows: "having shown you the dead, i have now to exhibit to you two of the most extraordinary wonders of the living; this is the widow of a new zealand chief, and this is the little old woman of bagdad; she is thirty inches high, twenty-two years of age, and a native of boston, in lincolnshire." the next show announced, for one penny, "_the black wild indian woman--the white indian youth--and the welsh dwarf--all alive!_" there was this further announcement on the outside: "_the young american will perform after the manner of the french jugglers at vauxhall gardens, with balls, rings, daggers, &c._" the welsh dwarf was william phillips, of denbigh, fifteen years of age. the "white indian youth" was an esquimaux; and the exhibitor assured the visitors upon his veracity that the "black wild indian woman" was a court lady of the island of madagascar. the young american was the exhibitor himself, an intelligent and clever fellow in a loose striped frock, tied round the middle. he commenced his performances by throwing up three balls, which he kept constantly in the air, as he afterwards did four, and then five, with great dexterity, using his hands, shoulders, and elbows apparently with equal ease. he afterwards threw up three rings, each about four inches in diameter, and then four, which he kept in motion with similar success. to end his performance, he produced three knives, which, by throwing up and down, he contrived to preserve in the air altogether. the young american's dress and knives were very similar to those of the anglo-saxon glee-man, as strutt has figured them from a ms. in the cotton collection. the inscriptions and paintings on the outside of the next show announced "_the white negro, who was rescued from her black parents by the bravery of a british officer--the only white negro girl alive--the great giantess and dwarf--six curiosities alive!--only a penny to see them all alive!_" one side of the interior was covered by a pictorial representation of a tread-mill, with convicts at work upon it, superintended by warders. on the other side were several monkeys in cages, an old bear in a jacket, and sundry other animals. when a sufficient number of persons had assembled, a curtain was withdrawn, and the visitors beheld the giantess and the white negro, whom the showman pronounced "the greatest curiosity ever seen--the first that has been exhibited since the reign of george ii.--look at her head and hair, ladies and gentlemen, and feel it; there's no deception--it's like ropes of wool!" the girl, who had the flat nose, thick lips, and peculiarly-shaped skull of the negro, stooped to have her hair examined. it was of a dull flaxen hue, and hung, according to hone's description, "in ropes, of a clothy texture, the thickness of a quill, and from four to six inches in length." her skin was the colour of an european's. then there stepped forth a little fellow about three feet high, in a military dress, with top boots, who "strutted his tiny legs, and held his head aloft with not less importance than the proudest general officer could assume upon his promotion to the rank of field marshal." the next show was announced as an "exhibition of real wonders," and the following bill was put forth by its proprietor:-- "real wonders! see and believe. have you seen the beautiful dolphin, _the performing pig, and the mermaid_? if not, pray do! as the exhibition contains more variety than any other in england. those ladies and gentlemen who may be pleased to honour it with a visit will be truly gratified. toby, _the swinish philosopher, and ladies' fortune teller_. that beautiful animal appears to be endowed with the natural sense of the human race. he is in colour the most beautiful of his race; in symmetry the most perfect; in temper the most docile; and far exceeds anything yet seen for his intelligent performances. he is beyond all conception: he has a perfect knowledge of the alphabet, understands arithmetic, and will spell and cast accounts, tell the points of the globe, the dice-box, the hour by any person's watch, &c. _the real head of_ mahoura, the cannibal chief! at the same time the public will have an opportunity of seeing what was exhibited so long in london, under the title of the mermaid: the wonder of the deep! not a fac-simile or copy, but the same curiosity admission moderate. [asterism] _open from eleven in the morning till nine in the evening._" foremost among the attractions of this show were the performing pig and the show-woman, who drew forth the learning of the "swinish philosopher" admirably. he went through the alphabet, and spelt monosyllabic words with his nose; and did a sum of two figures in addition. then, at her desire, he indicated those of the company who were in love, or addicted to excess in drink; and grunted his conviction that a stout gentleman, who might have sat to john leech for the portrait of john bull "loved good eating, and a pipe, and a jug of ale better than the sight of the living skeleton." the "beautiful dolphin" was a fish-skin stuffed. the mermaid was the last manufactured imposture of that name, exhibited for half-a-crown in piccadilly, about a year before. the "real head of mahoura, the cannibal chief," was a skull, with a dried skin over it, and a black wig; "but it looked sufficiently terrific," says hone, "when the show-woman put the candle in at the neck, and the flame illuminated the yellow integument over the holes where eyes, nose, and a tongue had been." adjoining this was another penny show, with pictures large as life on the show-cloths outside of the living wonders within, and the following inscription:--"_all alive! no false paintings! the wild indian, the giant boy, and the dwarf family! never here before. to be seen alive!_" thomas day, the reputed father of the dwarf family, was also proprietor of the show; he was thirty-five years of age, and only thirty-five inches high. there was a boy six years old, only twenty-seven inches high. the "wild indian" was a mild-looking mulatto. the "giant boy," william wilkinson whitehead, was fourteen years of age, stood five feet two inches high, measured five feet round the body, twenty-seven inches across the shoulders, twenty inches round the arm, twenty-four inches round the calf, and thirty-one inches round the thigh, and weighed twenty-two stones. his father and mother were "travelling merchants" of manchester; he was born at glasgow, during one of their journeys, and was a fine healthy youth, fair complexioned, intelligent looking, active in his movements, and sensible in speech. he was lightly dressed in plaid to show his limbs, with a bonnet of the same. holden's glass-working and blowing was the last show on the east side of smithfield, and was limited to a single caravan. the first on the south side, with its side towards cloth fair, and the back towards the corner of duke street, presented pictures of a giant, a giantess, and an indian chief, with the inscription, "_they're all alive! be assured they're all alive! the yorkshire giantess--waterloo giant--indian chief. only a penny!_" an overgrown girl was the yorkshire giantess. a tall man with his hair frizzed and powdered, aided by a military coat and a plaid roquelaire, made the waterloo giant. next to this stood another show of the same kind and quality, the attractions of which were a giantess and two dwarfs. the giantess was a somerset girl, who arose from the chair whereon she was seated to the height of six feet nine inches and three-quarters, with "ladies and gentlemen, your most obedient." she was good-looking and affable, and obliged the company by taking off her tight-fitting slipper, and handing it round for their examination. it was of such dimensions that the largest man present could have put his booted foot into it. she said that her name was elizabeth stock, and that she was only sixteen years of age. this completed the number of shows pitched in smithfield in . there was a visible falling off in the following year, when the number of shows diminished to eight. the west side of giltspur street, along its whole length, was occupied by book-stalls; and grave-looking men in black suits, with white cravats, looking like waiters out of employment, walked solemnly through the fair, giving to all who would take them tracts headed with the startling question--"_are you prepared to die?_" richardson's theatre was there, and clarke's circus; but samwell, and ball, and chappell and pike did not attend, and wombwell's was the only menagerie. "brown's grand company, from paris," presented a juggling and tight-rope performance, with the learned horse, and a clown who extracted musical sounds from a salt-box, with the aid of a rolling-pin; holden, the glass-blower, in a glass wig, made tea-cups for threepence each, and tobacco-pipes for a penny; the learned pig displayed his acquirements in orthography and arithmetic; there was a twopenny exhibition of rattlesnakes and young crocodiles, hatched by steam from imported eggs; and a show in which a dwarf and a "silver-haired lady" were exhibited for a penny. among the unique of the living curiosities exhibited by the showmen of this period was the famous spotted boy, described in the bills issued by his original exhibitor as "one of those wonderful productions of nature, which excite the curiosity, and gratify the beholder with the surprising works of the creator; he is the progeny of negroes, being beautifully covered over by a diversity of spots of transparent brown and white; his hair is interwoven, black and white alternately, in a most astonishing manner; his countenance is interesting, with limbs finely proportioned; his ideas are quick and penetrating, yet his infantine simplicity is truly captivating. he must be seen to convince; it is not in the power of language to convey an adequate idea of this fanciful child of nature, formed in her most playful mood, and allowed by every lady and gentleman that has seen it, the greatest curiosity ever beheld. may be seen from ten in the morning till ten in the evening. admittance for ladies and gentlemen _s._ servants and children half price. ladies and gentlemen wishing to see this wonderful child at their own houses, may be accommodated by giving a few hours' notice. copper plate likenesses of the boy may be had at the place of exhibition." richardson introduced this boy several seasons, between the drama and the pantomime; and became so much attached to him that he directed, by his will, that he should be buried in the grave in which, a few years before, he had deposited the remains of the lively, docile, and affectionate african lad, in the church-yard of great marlow. i have found no account of the number of shows which attended bartholomew fair in , but in the following year they must have been nearly as numerous as in , an enumeration of the principal ones reaching to sixteen. all the menageries attended, and, besides richardson's and ball's theatres, keyes and laine's, frazer's, pike's, and a couple of clever chinese jugglers. the receipts of these and the other principal shows were returned, in round numbers, as follows:--wombwell's menagerie, £ , ; richardson's theatre, £ , ; atkins's menagerie, £ , ; morgan's menagerie, £ ; exhibition of "the pig-faced lady," £ ; ditto, fat boy and girl, £ ; ditto, head of william corder, who was hanged at chelmsford for the murder of maria martin, a crime which had created a great sensation, owing to its discovery through a dream of the victim's mother, £ ; ballard's menagerie, £ ; ball's theatre, £ ; diorama of the battle of navarino, £ ; the chinese jugglers, £ ; pike's theatre, £ ; a fire-eater, £ ; frazer's theatre, £ ; keyes and laine's theatre, £ ; exhibition of a scotch giant, £ . some curious lights are thrown by these figures on the comparative attractiveness of different entertainments and exhibitions. considerable excitement was created among the visitors to the fair in the following year by the announcement that wombwell had on exhibition "that most wonderful animal, the bonassus, being the first of the kind which had ever been brought to europe." as no one had ever seen or heard of the animal before, or had the faintest conception of what it was, the curious flocked in crowds to see the beast, which proved to be a very fine bull bison, or american buffalo. under the name given to it by wombwell, it was introduced into the epilogue of the westminster play as one of the wonders of the year. it was afterwards sold by wombwell to the zoological society, and placed in their collection in the regent's park; but it had been enfeebled by confinement and disease, and it died soon afterwards. the hudson's bay company subsequently supplied its place by presenting the society with a young cow. atkins offered the counter attractions of an elephant ten feet high, and another litter of lion-tigers, the latter addition to his collection being announced as follows:-- "wonderful phenomenon in nature--the singular and hitherto deemed impossible occurrence of a lion and tigress cohabiting and producing young has again taken place in the menagerie, on the th of october, , at windsor, when the royal tigress brought forth three fine cubs!!! and they are now to be seen in the same den with their sire and dam. the first litter of these extraordinary animals were presented to our most gracious sovereign, when he was pleased to express considerable gratification, and to denominate them lion-tigers, than which a more appropriate name could not have been given. the great interest the lion and tigress have excited is unprecedented; they are a source of irresistible attraction, especially as it is the only instance of the kind ever known of animals so directly opposite in their dispositions forming an attachment of such a singular nature; their beautiful and interesting progeny are most admirable productions of nature. the group is truly pleasing and astonishing, and must be witnessed to form an adequate idea of them. the remarkable instance of subdued temper and association of animals to permit the keeper to enter their den, and to introduce their performance to the spectators, is the greatest phenomenon in natural history." most of the shows enumerated in the list of attended bartholomew fair in , and there were a few additional ones, making the total number about the same. they comprised the menageries of wombwell, atkins, and ballard, the first containing "the great siam elephant, and the two smallest elephants ever seen in europe," and the last offering an unique attraction in a seal, floundering in a large tub of water; richardson's theatre, ball's tumbling and rope-dancing, keyes and laine's conjuring, frazer's conjuring, a learned pony, the pig-faced lady, a shaved bear (to expose the imposture preceding), the "living skeleton," the fire-eater, the scotch giant, the diorama of navarino, the fat boy and girl, and a couple of peep-shows, one exhibiting, as its chief attraction, the lying in state of george iv., the other the murder of maria martin. one of the novel characters whom richardson picked up in his wanderings was the once famous gouffe, "the man-monkey," as he was called. his real name was vale, and when the old showman became acquainted with him he was following the humble occupation of a pot-boy in a low public-house. richardson, happening to enter the tap-room in which master vale waited, found the young gentleman amusing the guests by walking about on pewter pint measures, with his hobnailed boots turned towards the smoke-begrimed ceiling. the performance was a novel one, and richardson, calling the lad aside on its conclusion, made him an offer too gratifying to be refused. after travelling with richardson for some time, vale appeared at several of the minor theatres of the metropolis, always in the part of an ape, and under the assumed name of gouffe. his pantomimic powers were considerable, and his agility was scarcely inferior to that of the four-handed brutes whom he represented. the receipts of the shows were not always so large as in . in , which seems to have been a bad year for them, richardson lost fifty pounds by bartholomew fair, though he had half the receipts of ewing's wax-work exhibition in addition to those of the theatre, under an agreement with the proprietor, by which he paid for the ground and the erection of the show. wombwell only cleared his expenses, though he had at that time acquired morgan's menagerie, which stood at the corner of the greyhound yard, and by that means secured the pennies as well as the sixpences. in , the charge for admission to clarke's circus was reduced from sixpence to threepence. there was a novelty in bartholomew fair that year in the show of an italian conjuror, named capelli, namely, a company of cats, that beat a drum, turned a spit, ground knives, played the organ, hammered upon an anvil, ground coffee, and rang a bell. one of them understood french as well as italian, obeying orders in both languages. capelli's bills announce also a wonderful dog, to "play any gentleman at dominoes that will play with him." in , the number of shows at this fair rose to thirty-two, richardson's theatre, clarke's circus, five for tumbling, rope-dancing, etc., three menageries, four wax-work exhibitions, three phantasmagorias, holden's glass-blowing, two learned pigs, six exhibitions of giants, dwarfs, etc., and six peep-shows, in which the coronation of william iv., the battle of navarino, the murder of maria martin, and other events of contemporary interest were shown. only two shows charged so much as sixpence for admission, namely, richardson's and wombwell's. the threepenny shows were ewing's and clarke's, the latter giving "an excellent display for the money," according to a contemporary account, which continues as follows:-- "the performance began by tight-rope dancing by miss clarke, with and without the balance pole, through hoops, with 'flip-flaps,' standing on chairs, &c. slack-rope vaulting by a little boy named benjamin saffery, eight years of age; he exhibited several curious feats. there was also some very extraordinary posturing by two young men, one dressed as a chinese, the other in the old costume of pierrot; among many other exploits, they walked round the ring with each a leg put up to their neck, and another on each other's shoulders. they also performed an extraordinary feat of lying on their backs, and throwing their legs up under their arms, and going round the ring by springing forward upon the ground, without the aid of their hands; one of them, while on the ground, supported two men on his thighs. a black man also exhibited some feats of strength; among others, he threw himself backward and, resting on his hands, formed an arch, and then bore two heavy men on his stomach with ease. the horsemanship commenced with the old performance of the rider going round the ring tied up in a sack. during the going round a transformation took place, and he who went into the sack a man came out to all appearance a woman on throwing the sack off. the whole concluded with a countryman who, suddenly starting from the ring, desires to be permitted to ride, which is at first refused, but at length allowed; he mounts, and after a short time, beginning to grow warm, pulls off his coat, then his waistcoat, then another and another to the number of thirteen, at last with much apparent modesty and reluctance his shirt; having done this, he appears a splendid rider, and after a few evolutions, terminates the performance. this rider's name was price. the show was well attended." the other shows of this class were ball's, which, besides tumbling and rope-dancing, gave a pantomime, but without scenery; keyes and laine's, which now presented posturing, balancing, and rope-dancing; samwell's, in which, besides tumbling and dancing, a real indian executed the war-dance of his tribe; the chinese jugglers; and a posturing and tumbling show, the proprietor of which was too modest to announce his name. the chinese jugglers had performed during the summer at saville house, the building on the north side of leicester square, which, after being the locality of several exhibitions, was converted into a music-hall, called the imperial, and afterwards eldorado. one of these pig-tailed entertainers pretended to swallow fifty needles, which were afterwards produced from his mouth, each with a thread in its eye. another balanced a bowl on a stick nine feet long; while a third played the chinese violin with a single string. wombwell's menagerie extended from the hospital gate nearly to duke street, and was the largest show in the fair. drury and drake's was a small but interesting collection, consisting of a very tame leopard, a couple of hyenas, a good show of monkeys, and several very fine boa constrictors. the third menagerie was wombwell's smaller concern, formerly morgan's. the best of the wax-work exhibitions was ewing's, which was well arranged in ten caravans. the others were ferguson's, with the additional attraction of "the beautiful albiness," a really beautiful woman, named shaw, who was then in her twenty-second year; hoyo's; and a small and poor collection at a house in giltspur street, where the wax figures were supplemented by the exhibition of twin infants united at the breast, "extremely well preserved." phantasmagorial exhibitions were at this time a novelty to the masses. the best of those shown this year in smithfield was the _optikali illusio_ of a frenchman, named de berar, who startled the spectators with the appearance of a human skeleton, the vision of death on a pale horse, etc. there was another in long lane; and a third at a house in giltspur street, where the public were invited to witness "the raising of the devil!" a fire-eater named haines stood at the door of the last show, emitting a shower of sparks from a lump of burning tow in his mouth. sir david brewster, who witnessed a phantasmagorial exhibition at edinburgh, describes it as follows:-- "the small theatre of exhibition was lighted only by one hanging lamp, the flame of which was drawn up into an opaque chimney or shade when the performance began. in this 'darkness visible' the curtain rose, and displayed a cave, with skeletons and other terrific figures in relief upon its walls. the flickering light was then drawn up beneath its shroud, and the spectators, in total darkness, found themselves in the midst of thunder and lightning. a thin transparent screen had, unknown to the spectators, been let down after the disappearance of the light, and upon it the flashes of lightning, and all the subsequent appearances, were represented. this screen, being halfway between the spectators and the cave which was first shown, and being itself invisible, prevented the observers from having any idea of the real distance of the figures, and gave them the entire character of aerial pictures. "the thunder and lightning were followed by the figures of ghosts, skeletons, and known individuals, whose eyes and mouths were made to move by the action of combined sliders. after the first figure had been exhibited for a short time, it began to grow less and less, as if removed to a great distance, and at last vanished in a small cloud of light. out of this same cloud the germ of another figure began to appear, and gradually grew larger and larger, and approached the spectators, till it attained its perfect development. in this manner the head of dr. franklin was transformed into a skull; figures which retired with the freshness of life came back in the form of skeletons, and the retiring skeletons returned in the drapery of flesh and blood. the exhibition of these transmutations was followed by spectres, skeletons, and terrific figures, which, instead of receding and vanishing as before, suddenly advanced upon the spectators, becoming larger as they approached them, and finally vanished by appearing to sink into the ground. the effect of this part of the exhibition was naturally the most impressive. the spectators were not only surprised, but agitated, and many of them were of opinion that they could have touched the figures." dupain's french theatre combined the exhibition of a dwarf, jonathan dawson, three feet high, and fifty years of age, with posturing by a performer named finch, and two mechanical views, one representing algiers, with the sea in motion, and vessels entering and leaving the harbour; the other a storm at sea, with a vessel in distress, burning blue lights, firing guns, and finally becoming a wreck. broomsgrove's show, which made its first appearance, contained three human curiosities, namely, clancy, an irishman, whose height was seven feet two inches; farnham, who was only three feet two inches in height, but so strong that he carried two big men on his shoulders with ease; and thomas pierce, "the gigantic shropshire youth," aged seventeen years, five feet ten inches in height, and thirty-five stones in weight. simmett's show contained four "living wonders" of this kind, namely, priscilla and amelia weston, twin canadian giantesses, twenty years of age; lydia walpole, the dwarf exhibited in maughan's show in ; and an albino woman, aged nineteen. harris added to a peep-show a twelve years old dwarf, named eliza webber; a sheep with singularly formed hind hoofs; and a very fine boa constrictor. another show combined the performances of a monkey, which, in the garb of an old woman, smoked a pipe, wheeled a barrow, etc., with the exhibition of several mechanical figures, representing artisans working at their various trades, and a juvenile albino, named mary anne chapman. another exhibited, as an "extraordinary hermit," a man named daniel mackenzie, whose only distinction rested upon his statement that he had voluntarily secluded himself from the world for five years, which he had passed in a coal-mine near dalkeith. toby, the learned pig, if he was the original porcine wonder of that name, must have been, at least, seventeen years of age, but showed no symptoms of declining vigour or diminished intelligence. he was now exhibited by james burchall, in conjunction with the proprietor's monstrously fat child, and was announced as,-- "the unrivalled chinese swinish philosopher, toby the real learned pig. he will spell, read, and cast accounts, tell the points of the sun's rising and setting, discover the four grand divisions of the earth, kneel at command, perform blindfold with handkerchiefs over his eyes, tell the hour to a minute by the watch, tell a card, and the age of any party. he is in colour the most beautiful of his race, in symmetry the most perfect, in temper the most docile. and when asked a question, he will give an immediate answer." toby had a rival this year in the "amazing pig of knowledge," exhibited by james fawkes, at the george inn. this pig could tell the number of pence in a shilling, and of shillings in a pound, count the spectators, tell their thoughts (so at least it was pretended), distinguish colours, and do many other wonderful things. the following doggrel verses, extracted from fawkes's bill, are offered as a curiosity; they seem _apropos_ of nothing, and show that the exhibitor was ignorant or oblivious of the fact that george iv. had been dead three years:-- "a learned pig in george's reign to �sop's brutes an equal boast; then let mankind again combine to render friendship still a toast. "let albion's fair superior soar, to gallic fraud, or gallic art; britons will e'er bow down before the virtues seated in the heart." in , a new show appeared in the field, namely, brown's theatre of arts, in which were shown mechanical representations of the battle of trafalgar, the passage of the alps by the french army, and the marble palace at st. petersburg, the ships in the first and the figures in the others being in actual motion. scowton, who had been absent from bartholomew fair for several years, made a final appearance there in , when his bills contained the following announcement:-- "mr. scowton, deeply impressed with heartfelt gratitude for the liberal patronage and support which he has for a series of years experienced from his friends and a generous public, and which will enable him to spend his future days in comfortable retirement: begs leave to announce that the whole of his extensive concern, is to be disposed of by private contract; and, therefore, at the same time, as he takes leave, requests them to believe that the memory of their favours and indulgence will never be eradicated from his memory." richardson's theatre stood beside scowton's, and it is remarked by a newspaper of the time that "the former displayed the trappings of modern grandeur, and the latter evinced his taste for the ancient by exposing to view a couple of centaurs and a sphynx." scowton presented a "new grand dramatic romance," called _the treacherous friend_, in which he played the character of alphonsus himself. this was the last appearance of both these veteran showmen. scowton retired, and richardson died shortly afterwards at his cottage in horsemonger lane, and was buried, as his will directed, at great marlow, in the same grave with the spotted boy. he bequeathed the greater part of his property to charles reed, who had travelled with him for many years; his old friend, johnson, afterwards co-lessee with nelson lee of the city of london theatre, received a legacy of five hundred pounds, and davy, who had superintended the building and removal of the theatre from the beginning of its existence, two hundred pounds. looking backward forty years, i can recall the quaint figure of the old showman as he stood on the steps of his portable theatre, clad in a loose drab coat and a long scarlet vest, which looked as if it had been made in the reign of george ii. as i think of croydon fair as it used to be in richardson's days, with the show standing between clarke's circus and wombwell's menagerie, i can almost fancy that i hear the booming of the old man's gong. many a time afterwards have i seen nelson lee beating that memorable instrument of discord, and heard him shouting, "walk up! walk up! just going to begin!" but _he_ wore a suit of black, and did not impress me half so much as his predecessor. the change seemed, indeed, a symptom of the declining glory of the fair, which has, within the last few years, become a thing of the past. chapter xi. successors of scowton and richardson--nelson lee--crowther, the actor--paul herring--newman and allen's theatre--fair in hyde park--hilton's menagerie--bartholomew fair again threatened--wombwell's menagerie--charles freer--fox cooper and the bosjesmans--destruction of johnson and lee's theatre--reed's theatre--hales, the norfolk giant--affray at greenwich--death of wombwell--lion queens--catastrophe in a menagerie--world's fair at bayswater--abbott's theatre--charlie keith, the clown--robson, the comedian--manders's menagerie--macomo, the lion-tamer--macarthy and the lions--fairgrieve's menagerie--lorenzo and the tigress--sale of a menagerie--extinction of the london fairs--decline of fairs near the metropolis--conclusion. the change in the proprietorship of the travelling theatres conducted during so many years by scowton and richardson may be regarded as a stage in the history of the people's amusements. the decline which showmen had noted during the preceding years had not been perceptible to the public, who had crowded the london fairs more densely than ever, and found as many showmen catering for their entertainment as in earlier years. but while the crowds that gazed at wombwell's show-cloths, and the parades of richardson's theatre and clarke's circus, became more dense every year, the showmen found their receipts diminish and their expenses increase. the people had more wants than formerly, and their means of supplying them had not, at the time of the decadence of the london fairs, experienced a corresponding increase. the vast and ever-growing population of the metropolis furnished larger crowds, but the middle-class element had diminished, and continued to diminish; and the showmen found reduced charges to be a necessity, without resulting in the augmented gains which follow a reduction of prices in trade. scowton's theatre was sold by private contract to julius haydon, who, after expending a considerable sum upon it, making it rival richardson's in size, found the results so little to his advantage that he disposed of the whole concern a year afterwards to the successors of richardson. these were the showman's old friends, john johnson, to whom he left a legacy of five hundred pounds, and nelson lee, who, after the unfortunate speculation with his brother in the old kent road, had travelled for a time with holloway's show, then gone to scotland with grey's _fantoccini_, and, after a turn at edinburgh with dodsworth and stevens's automatons, had returned to london, and was at the time of richardson's death managing sadler's wells theatre for osbaldiston. when he saw richardson's property advertised for sale, he conferred with johnson on the subject of its purchase by them, which they effected by private contract, lee resigning his post at sadler's wells to undertake the management. the new proprietors furnished the theatre with a new front, and provided new dresses for the ballet in _esmeralda_, which was then attracting large audiences to the adelphi. they did not propose to open with this drama, but they thought the ballet would be a success on the parade outside, which managers of travelling theatres find it necessary to make as attractive as possible, the public forming their anticipations of the entertainment to be witnessed inside by what they see outside, as they do of tenting circus performances by the extent and splendour of the parade round the town and neighbourhood which precedes them. i once saw a very pretty harvest-dance of reapers and gleaners on the parade of richardson's theatre, and on another occasion a fantastic dance of indians, who held cocoa-nuts in their hands, and struck them together, assuming every variety of attitude, each dancer sometimes striking his own nuts together, and sometimes his own against those of his _vis-à-vis_. they were in time for the whitsuntide fair at greenwich, where the theatre stood at the extreme end of the fair, near the bridge at deptford creek. the esmeralda dance was a great success, and oscar byrne, who had arranged the ballet for the adelphi, visited the theatre, and complimented lee on the manner in which it was produced. the drama was _the tyrant doge_, and the pantomime, arranged by lee for the occasion, had local colour given to it, and the local title of _one tree hill_. the season opened very favourably, though both the management and the public experienced considerable annoyance from a party of dissolute young men, of whom the marquis of waterford was one, and who threw nuts at the actors, and talked and laughed loudly throughout the performance. delamore had succeeded lewis as stage-manager, scene-shifter, and wardrobe-keeper, a few years before richardson's death, and he was retained in that position by the new proprietors. john douglass and paul herring were in the company at this time; also crowther, who was subsequently engaged at astley's, and married miss vincent, who was for so many years a popular favourite at the victoria as the heroine of a series of successful domestic dramas. among the minor shows attending the fairs of the southern counties at this period was the portable theatre of newman and allen, which, towards the end of the summer, was pitched upon a piece of waste ground at norwood, and remained there two or three weeks. the fortunes of the company seemed at low ebb, and the small "houses" which they had nightly, with a charge for admission of twopence to front seats, and a penny to the back, did not place the treasury in a very flourishing condition. small as the company was, they aimed at a higher performance than was usually given in a portable theatre, for on the two occasions that i patronised the canvas temple of thespis the plays were _virginius_ and _john bull_, considerably cut down, as was to have been expected, the smallness of the company rendering it necessary to excise some of the characters. only one performance was given each night, and a farce preceded the play, the interval between the pieces being filled up with a comic song, sung by the low comedy man, and an acrobatic performance by a young lady whose name i learned was sarah saunders. whether she was related to old abraham saunders, i do not know; but the tendency of show-folks to make their vocations hereditary renders it very probable. she was the first female acrobat i ever saw, and an actress besides; and the peculiarity of her acrobatic performance was, that she did not don trunks and tights for it, like madame stertzenbach and others of her sex at the present day, but did her "flips," etc., in her ordinary attire, like the little drabs from the back slums of westminster who may sometimes be seen turning heels over head in st. james's park. when the brief season of the canvas theatre was brought to a close, and the fittings, scenery, properties, etc., had left the village behind a bony horse, it seemed that the proprietors had dissolved the partnership which had existed between them; for a living carriage remained on the ground, the occupants of which were old newman, who had played the heavy parts, and his nephew, charles little, the low comedy man. whether the old gentleman had realised a competency which satisfied his wants, or had some small pension or annuity, or investment of some kind, never became known; but there the wheeled abode of the two men stood for several years, newman cultivating a patch of the waste, and producing therefrom all the vegetables they required for their own table, while his nephew perambulated the neighbourhood with a basket, offering for sale tapes and cottons, needles and pins, and other small wares of a similar description. this new vocation seemed more lucrative than that of low comedian and comic singer in a travelling theatre; for charlie, as he was familiarly called, dressed better every year, and, on the death of his uncle, took to himself a wife, and, abandoning the living carriage, settled in a neighbouring cottage. from this episode of show-life i must return to johnson and lee, who, after visiting deptford and camberwell fairs, took their renovated theatre to smithfield, where it stood with its back to the george inn. at croydon fair it occupied its usual position between clarke's circus and wombwell's menagerie; and there a singular and amusing adventure occurred to the clown, who, however, did not find it so amusing himself. the first day being very wet, and the fair in consequence very thinly attended, he thought to divert the tedium of the situation by strolling through the town, and for this purpose put on the uniform over-coat of a policeman, a character then, as now, always diverting in the pantomime. some short time previously, several robberies had been committed in the town by a thief similarly dressed; and a constable on duty in high street, seeing a seeming policeman whom he did not know, and who gazed about him as if he was a stranger, took the astonished clown into custody on the charge of personating a constable and loitering about for an unlawful purpose. on being taken to the station-house, the clown made an explanatory statement, and the inspector sent a constable to the theatre to ascertain its truth, testimony to which was given by lee. the clown was thereupon released from custody, and hurried back to the fair, vowing that he would never promenade in the garb of a policeman again. in the following year, johnson and lee presented a memorial to the home office, asking permission to hold a fair in hyde park, to celebrate the coronation of the queen. the government acceded to the request, and superintendent mallalieu was associated with the memorialists in the organisation and management of the undertaking. a tent was pitched in the centre of the ground selected for the purpose, and the three managers attended daily to arrange the plan, classify the shows, stalls, etc., and receive applications for space, which were so numerous that it became necessary to post constables before the tent to maintain order. as each applicant stated the nature of his business, the application was entered in a book kept for the purpose, and a day was named for the allotment of ground. every foot of space granted for the purpose by the commissioners of her majesty's woods and forests was taken within a week, and every intending exhibitor received a ticket in the following form:-- fair in hyde park. no. ____ allotment of ground. the bearer ____, of ____, ____, is hereby entitled to ____ feet frontage on the ____ side of the area for the purpose of erecting a ____. __ june, . j. m. mallalieu, _supt._ every ticket-holder was requested to fit up his show or stall in a becoming manner, and to display as illumination some device suitable to the occasion. the undertaking to this effect was adhered to in a commendable manner, and a very pretty effect was thus produced when the fair was opened, on the th of june, and the numerous shows, booths, and stalls were illuminated at night with so many thousands of coloured lamps. as the boom of the first gun announcing the departure of the queen for westminster abbey was heard, nelson lee, standing on the parade of his theatre, struck the gong, and all the showmen unfurled their show-cloths, and the keepers of booths and stalls rolled up their canvas fronts, and commenced business. the fair was a great success, the financial results being as satisfactory as its organisation and management. many of the nobility visited it, and even patronised the amusements, as they had been wont to do at bartholomew fair in the seventeenth century, and the first half of the eighteenth. johnson and lee's theatre filled on the opening day in five minutes, and the time occupied by the performances was reduced to fifteen minutes. the drama was _the mysterious stranger_, which, thus contracted, became more mysterious than ever. all the principal avenues were crowded from noon till night, and the demand upon the resources of the refreshment booths was so great that algar and other principal booth-keepers charged, and had no difficulty in obtaining, a shilling for a pot of beer, and sixpence for a lettuce or a penny loaf, other articles being sold at proportionate rates. during the fair, the wife of a gingerbread vendor gave birth to a child, which, in commemoration of the occasion was registered by the name of hyde park. the stall was, in consequence of this event, allowed to remain several days after the time by which the promoters of the fair had undertaken to have the ground cleared, and it was visited by many ladies, who made presents to the child and its parents. though the ground had been let at a low rate, a surplus of sixty pounds remained after defraying all expenses, and this sum was awarded to johnson and lee; but they did not apply for it, and it was divided among the constables who did police duty in the fair. the services of johnson and lee in promoting and organising the fair, and of superintendent mallalieu in supervising the arrangements and maintaining order, were so well appreciated by the showmen and the keepers of booths and stalls, that they joined in presenting each with a silver cup, at a dinner which took place at the champion tavern, paddington. at the ordinary fairs visited during the latter part of this year, johnson and lee exhibited a panorama of the coronation, painted by marshall, which proved very attractive. enfield fair being spoiled by wet weather, application was made to the local magistrate for an extra day, which at croydon was always conceded in such circumstances; but it was refused, the enfield justice seeming to be of opinion that actors and acrobats were vagabonds who ought to be discouraged by every possible means. resolved not to be disappointed, johnson and lee issued a bill in the name of jones, a man who sold refreshments in the theatre, announcing that, in consequence of the wet weather having prevented him from clearing his stock of nuts, the proprietors had given him the use of the theatre for an extra day, when the usual performances would be given without charge, but prices ranging from a shilling to three shillings would be charged for nuts to be supplied to the persons admitted. haydon's theatre made its last appearance at croydon fair, where great exertions were made to render it as attractive as johnson and lee's, but it was not patronised to near the same extent as the latter; and johnson and lee's offer to purchase the concern being entertained by the proprietor, it from that time ceased to exist, being absorbed into the more popular establishment. croydon fair used, at this time, to be visited by large numbers of persons, not only from the surrounding villages, but even from the metropolis. all the inhabitants of the town prepared for visitors, for everyone who had a relative or acquaintance in croydon was sure to make the fair an occasion for a visit. two time-honoured customs were connected with the october fair, everybody commencing fires in their sitting-rooms on the first day of the fair, and dining on roast pork or goose. the latter custom was observed even by those who, having no friends to visit, dined in a booth; and the number of geese and legs of pork to be seen roasting before glowing charcoal fires in grates of immense width, in the rear of the booths, was one of the sights of the fair. there were two entrances to the fair from the town, one at the gate which gave access at ordinary times to the foot-path across the field, leading to park hill; and the other, made for the occasion, farther southward, for the accommodation of those who approached the field from the avenues on the east side of high street. each was bordered for a short distance by the standings of itinerant vendors of walnuts, oysters, and fried sausages, beyond which was a long street of gingerbread stalls, terminated, in the one case, by the shows of the exhibitors of wax-work, living curiosities, and pictorial representations of great historical events, and in the other by the smaller and less pretentious drinking-booths. at right angles to these canvas streets, and opening from them near their commencement, was a third, covered over with an awning, and composed of the stalls of the dealers in toys and fancy goods. this was called bond street. parallel with this avenue, and connecting the further ends of the two streets of gingerbread stalls, was one broader than the others, bordered on the side from which it was approached with gingerbread stalls, and on the further side with the principal shows and booths. first in order, on the latter side, stood clarke's circus, with the proprietor on the steps, in a scarlet coat and white breeches, smacking a whip, and shouting, "this way for the riders! the riders!" three or four spotted and cream-coloured horses, gaily caparisoned, stood on the platform, and a clown cracked his "wheeze" with a couple of young fellows in tights and trunks, in their intervals of repose from acrobatic feats of the ordinary character. next to the circus stood a portable theatre, usually scowton's, in rivalry with the neighbouring show of the famous richardson, which was always the largest, and was worked by the strongest company. on the exterior platforms of both, practical jokes were played upon the pantaloon by the harlequin and the clown; young ladies in short muslin skirts danced to the lively strains of the orchestra, and broad-sword combats were fought in the approved one! two! three! over and under style. next to richardson's show stood the menagerie of wombwell or atkins, where a broad array of pictorial canvas attracted a wondering crowd, and the brazen instruments of musicians, attired in uniforms copied from those of the royal "beef-eaters," brayed and blared from noon till night. then came the principal booths, wherein eating and drinking was the order of the day, and dancing that of the night. the largest and best appointed of these was the crown and anchor, well known to fair-goers for half a century, the name of algar being "familiar in their mouths as household words," as that of an experienced caterer for their entertainment. there was a tolerable quadrille band in attendance from eve till midnight, and, in the best days of the fair, the sons and daughters of the shopkeepers of the town and the farmers of the surrounding neighbourhood mingled in the dance in the "assembly room" of algar's booth without fear of scandal or loss of caste. there was dancing in the other booths, but they were smaller, the music and the lighting were inferior, and the company less select. among those that stood in a line with algar's were the fives court, kept by an ex-pugilist, and patronised chiefly by gentlemen of the "fancy;" and the gipsies' booth, which had no other sign than the ancient one of a green bough, and was resorted to for the novelty of being waited upon by dark-eyed and dusky-complexioned romanies, wearing bright-coloured silk handkerchiefs over their shoulders, and long gold pendants in their ears. within the area enclosed by these avenues were swings and round-abouts, while the "knock 'em downs," the "three shies a penny" fellows, the predecessors of the aunt sallies of a later day, occupied the vacant spaces on the skirts of the pleasure fair, wherever the ground was not covered, on the first day, with horses, sheep, and cattle. at midnight on the st the fair was opened by the ceremony of carrying an enormous key through it, and the booth-keepers were then allowed to serve any customers who might offer. by daylight next morning the roads leading to the fair-field were thronged with sheep and cattle, thousands of which, with scores of horses, changed owners before sunset. there was little movement in the long avenues of shows, booths, and stalls, until near noon, when nursery maids led their charges through bond street, and mothers took their younger children there to buy toys. about mid-day the showmen unfurled their pictures, which appealed so strongly to the imaginations of the spectators, the bands of the larger shows began to play, and clowns and acrobats, dancers and jugglers, appeared upon the exterior platforms. from this time till sunset the throng of visitors increased rapidly, and on fine days the crowd before the principal shows was so dense as to offer considerable impediment to locomotion. when darkness began to descend upon the field, lamps flared and flickered on the fronts of the shows, smaller lights glimmered along the toy and gingerbread stalls, and thousands of tiny lamps, blue, and amber, and green, and ruby, arranged in the form of crowns, stars, anchors, feathers, etc., illuminated the booths. then the showmen beat their gongs with redoubled vigour, and bawled through speaking-trumpets till they were hoarse; the bands brayed and blared louder than before; and the sounds of harps and violins showed that dancing had commenced in the booths. in those days it sometimes happened that two circuses attended the fair, when the larger of the two was pitched in a field on the west side of the road, and bounded on the south side by mint walk, one of the avenues by which the fair was approached from high street. in a circus thus located--i think it was clarke's--miss woolford, afterwards the second wife of the great equestrian, andrew ducrow, exhibited her grace and agility on the tight-rope in a blaze of fireworks, in emulation of the celebrated madame saqui's performance at vauxhall gardens. the equestrian profession still numbers ducrows in its ranks, two young men of that name belonging at the present time to newsome's circus company; but i have not met with the name of woolford since , when a young lady of that name, and then about twelve or thirteen years of age, danced on the tight-rope in a small show pitched at the back of the town-hall at croydon, during the july fair. the october fair at croydon closed the season of the shows which confined their perambulations to a distance of fifty miles from the metropolis, where, or in the provincial towns possessing theatres, the actors, clowns, acrobats, etc., obtained engagements for the pantomime season. this year, the entire company of johnson and lee's theatre was engaged for the marylebone. in , this theatre, with john douglass and paul herring still in the company, stood next to hilton's menagerie at greenwich, where the season commenced with most of the shows which made london their winter quarters. it was about this time that james lee, who was then manager of hilton's menagerie, suggested the certain attractiveness of the exhibition by a young woman of the performances with lions and tigers which had been found so productive to the treasuries of the sangers, batty, and howes and cushing, when exhibited by a man. it was proposed to bring out as a "lion queen" the daughter of hilton's brother joseph, a circus proprietor; and the young lady, being familiar with her uncle's lions, did not shrink from the distinction. she made her first public appearance with the lions at stepney fair, and the performance proved so attractive that the example was contagious. edmunds had at this time a fine group of lions, tigers, and leopards, and a young woman named chapman (now mrs. george sanger) volunteered to perform with them, as a rival to miss hilton. miss chapman, who had the honour of appearing before the royal family at windsor castle, had not long been before the public when a third "lion queen" appeared in wombwell's menagerie in the person of helen blight, the daughter of a musician in the band. the career of this poor girl was as brief as its termination was shocking. she was performing with the animals at greenwich fair, when a tiger exhibited some sullenness or waywardness, for which she very imprudently struck it with a riding-whip which she carried. with a terrible roar, the infuriated beast sprang upon her, seized her by the throat, and killed her before she could be rescued. this melancholy affair led to the prohibition of such performances by women; but the leading menageries have continued to have "lion kings" attached to them to the present day. it was in this year that the war against the shows was renewed by the authorities of the city of london, who doubled the charges hitherto made for space in smithfield, wombwell, for instance, having his rent raised from forty to eighty pounds, clarke's from twenty-five to fifty, and others in the same proportion. after the fair, the london city missions society presented a memorial to the corporation, praying for the suppression of the fair, and the city lands committee was instructed by the court of aldermen to consider whether, and by what means, its suppression could be legally accomplished. the committee referred the question to the solicitor of the city, who was requested to report to the markets committee "as to the right of the corporation of london to suppress bartholomew fair, or otherwise to remove the nuisances and obstructions to trade to which it gives rise." the solicitor accordingly examined the archives in the town-clerk's office, as well as books in the city library and the british museum, for the purpose of tracing the history of the fair, and of other fairs which formerly existed in the metropolis, and the right to hold which was likewise founded upon charters, and which had been abolished or fallen into disuse. his researches led him to the conclusion that "the right to hold both fairs having been granted for the purpose of promoting the interests of trade, it is quite clear that no prescriptive right can be set up to commit any nuisance incompatible with the purposes for which they were established; if, therefore, the corporation should be satisfied that the interests of the public can be no otherwise protected than by confining the fair to its original objects and purposes, they may undoubtedly do so, and this would in fact, be equivalent to its entire suppression." this course was, however, that which had been adopted, without success, in , and the legal adviser of the corporation could not avoid seeing that "it is at all times difficult, by law, to put down the ancient customs and practices of the multitude." both may fair and lady fair had been suppressed without the intervention of parliament, however, and it seemed probable that "old bartlemy" would be extinguished before long by natural decay, and that the best course would be to provide for its due regulation during its decline. "when we consider," said the report, "the improved condition and conduct of the working classes in the metropolis, and reflect upon the irrefragable proofs continually before us, that the humbler orders are fast changing their habits, and substituting country excursions by railroad and steamboat, and other innocent recreations, for vicious amusements of the description which prevailed in bartholomew fair, it is, perhaps, not too much to conclude that it is unnecessary for the corporation to apply to parliament to abate the nuisance; but that, if they proceed to lay down and enforce the observance of judicious regulations in the fair, and to limit its duration and extent, it may be permitted to continue, in the confident belief that many years will not elapse ere the corporation may omit to proclaim the fair, and thus suppress it altogether, without exciting any of those feelings of discontent and disapprobation with which its compulsory abolition would probably be now attended." when this report was submitted to the court of common council, in july, , considerable diversity of opinion was found to prevail as to the course which should be adopted. the majority either adopted the view of the london city missions society, or the more moderate sentiments of the reporter, mr. charles pearson; but the principles therein enunciated did not pass without challenge. mr. anderton was "decidedly opposed to the canting and methodistical grounds for interfering with one of the only amusements now remaining to the poor inhabitants of london." mr. wells thought that the fair, under proper regulations for the prevention of disorder, would be innoxious, and that the gaming-houses of the metropolis were a fitter subject for suppression. mr. taylor regarded the objections to the fair as "the wild chimeras of fanaticism." but after a long discussion, the report was adopted by forty-three votes against fourteen. the market committee declined, however, to limit the fair to two days, or to exclude shows entirely, though they resolved to again raise the rents of the shows that were admitted, to permit no disturbance of the pavement, to continue the exclusion of swings and roundabouts, and to admit no theatres for dramatic performances. the policy resolved upon was, therefore, simply one of vexation and annoyance, and contributed nothing to the promotion of morality and order. johnson and lee's theatre, clarke's circus, frazer's acrobatic entertainment, laskey's giant and giantess, and crockett's and reader's exhibitions of living curiosities, were refused space in smithfield; and the only shows admitted were the menageries of wombwell, hilton, and wright, and grove's theatre of arts. why the performances of lions and tigers should be regarded with more favour than those of horses, miss clarke on the tight-rope be considered a more demoralising spectacle then miss hilton or miss chapman in a cage of wild beasts, and the serpents and crocodile in crockett's caravan more suggestive of immoral ideas than the monkeys in the menageries, is a problem which does not admit of easy solution, and which only an aldermanic mind could have framed. the suburban fairs were declining so much at this time that johnson and lee were deterred by their diminished receipts at greenwich and deptford from visiting ealing, camberwell, and enfield; and, on being excluded from smithfield, proceeded to chatham, whence they moved to croydon. the decadence was still more manifest in the following year, and at enfield an attempt was made by the magistrate to prevent them from opening on the third day, the more officious than learned administrator of the law being ignorant of the fact that, though the fair had for many years been held on two days only, the charter by which it was held allowed three days. lee had taken care to obtain a copy of the charter, and on the superintendent of police going to the theatre with the magistrate's order for its immediate removal, he positively refused obedience to the mandate, and produced the charter. the superintendent thereupon apologised, and returned to the magistrate with the news of his discomfiture. at bartholomew fair, wombwell's was the only show of any consequence. his collection had at this time grown to be, not only the largest and best travelling, but equal, and in some respects superior, to any in the world. he had twelve lions, besides lionesses and cubs, and eight tigers, a tigress, and cubs, in addition to a puma, a jaguar, a black tiger, several leopards, an ocelot, a serval, and a pair of genets. there were also striped and spotted hyenas, wolves, jackals, coati-mondies, racoons, a polar bear, a sloth bear, black and brown bears, a honey bear, and a couple of porcupines. the hoofed classes were represented by three elephants, a fine one-horned rhinoceros, a pair of gnus, a white antelope, a brahmin cow, an axis deer, and three giraffes, which had lately been brought from abyssinia by m. riboulet, a french traveller, and were the first of their kind ever exhibited in the fair. croydon fair was disturbed this year by a fight between the youths of the east india company's military college at addiscombe, about a mile from the town, and the members of johnson and lee's company. the _fracas_ originated with an insulting remark made by one of the cadets, as they were generally called, to a young lady of the theatrical company, promenading at the time on the parade. the insult was promptly resented by a male member of the _troupe_, who hurled the offender down the steps. a dozen of his companions immediately rushed up the steps, and assailed the champion, who was supported by the rest of the company; and the consequence was a sharp scrimmage, ending in the arrival of several constables, and the removal to the station-house of as many of the cadets as could not escape by flight. next morning they were taken before the magistrates, and, being proved to have been the aggressors, they were fined; and from that time the military aspirants of addiscombe were forbidden to enter the town during the three days of the fair. charles freer was the leading actor of the company at this time, and the principal lady was mrs. hugh campbell, whom i remember seeing a year or two afterwards at the gravesend theatre. she was subsequently engaged, as was freer also, at the pavilion. her successor on the richardsonian boards was mrs. yates, who was afterwards engaged at the standard. the harlequin was a nervous, eccentric, one-eyed young man named charles shaw, who was dismissed from the company towards the close of the season on account of his freaks reaching a pitch which at times raised a doubt as to his sanity, besides threatening detriment to the interests of the theatre. when the time approached at which the campaign of was to be commenced, it was found necessary to advertise for a harlequin; and the announcement of the want produced a response from charles wilson, who stated that he had been engaged through the preceding pantomime season at the birmingham theatre. this gentleman seeming eligible, he was engaged, but was not seen by lee, or any of the company, until he presented himself at the theatre on easter sunday, at greenwich. lee was immediately struck with the new harlequin's remarkable resemblance to the old one, which extended to every feature but the eyes; these were the same colour as shaw's, but he had two, while shaw had lost one. on the second day of the fair, however, it was discovered that the eye which had thus long puzzled every one as to his identity was a glass one; and on his being charged with being shaw, he acknowledged the deception, observing that he had felt sure that he would not be re-engaged if he applied in his proper name. the deception was pardoned, and shaw's subsequent freaks seem to have been fewer, and of a milder character. the effects of the policy resolved upon by the city authorities in became more perceptible every year. in , only one of the few shows that appeared in smithfield issued a bill, which, as a curiosity, being the last ever issued for bartholomew fair, i subjoin:-- extraordinary phenomenon!!! the greatest wonder in the world now exhibiting alive, _at the globe coffee house, no. , king street_, smithfield, a female child with two perfect heads, named elizabeth bedbury, daughter of daniel and jane bedbury, born at wandsworth, surrey, april th, . the public is respectfully informed that the child is now living; and hundreds of persons has been to see it, and declares that it is the most wonderful phenomenon of nature they'd ever seen. admission _d._ each. no deception; if dissatisfied, the money returned. nelson lee played a trick at croydon fair this year which can only be defended on the principle that "all is fair at fair time." finding that the bosjesmans were being exhibited in the town, and were attracting great numbers of persons to their "receptions," he hung out, on the second day of the fair, a show-cloth with the announcement, in large black letters, "_arrival of the real bosjesmen_." to represent the strange specimens of humanity which had lately been discovered in south africa, and their appearance on the parade in an antic dance produced a rush to witness the further representations of the manners and sports of savage life to be seen inside. a startling event occurred on the following morning. one of wombwell's elephants escaped from confinement, and at the early hour of three in the morning was seen, to the amazement and alarm of old winter, the watchman, walking in a leisurely manner down high street. he was in the habit of being taken every morning by his keeper to bathe in scarbrook pond, a small piece of water skirted by a lane connecting the modern and now principal portion of the town with the old town; and on such occasions he was regaled with a bun at a confectioner's shop at the corner which he had to turn out of high street, near the green dragon. while a constable ran to the george the fourth, where some of wombwell's _employés_ were known to be located, the elephant reached the confectioner's shop, and, finding it closed, butted the shutters with his enormous head, and, amidst a crash of wood and glass, proceeded to help himself to the delicacies inside. on the arrival of his keeper, the docile beast submitted himself to his guidance, and was led back to his stable; but wombwell had to pay the confectioner seven or eight pounds for the damage done to the shop window and shutters. johnson and lee commenced the season of with several members of the pavilion company in their fair _corps_; but they attended fewer fairs than in any previous year, and in their theatre appeared only at greenwich, enfield, and croydon. in the following year, it was burned, while standing in a field at dartford, and the proprietors, not being insured, suffered a loss of seventeen hundred pounds. nothing was saved but the parade waggon, which was dragged away before the flames reached it, and, with the scene waggon and other effects which had been bought of haydon in , formed the nucleus of the new theatre with which the proprietors opened the fair campaign of . henry howard joined the travelling company in that year at ealing fair, on the closing of the standard. during the latter part of their career as proprietors of a travelling theatre, the successors of richardson found it more profitable to conduct their business on the system, since adopted by newsome and hengler with their circuses, of locating the theatre for two or three weeks at a time in some considerable town, than to wander from fair to fair, staying at each place only three or four days. at the present day, the circuses just named draw good houses, as a rule, for three months; but a quarter of a century ago this was not thought practicable, and in , when johnson and lee erected their theatre at croydon (in the fair field, but some time before the fair), they did not deem it expedient to extend their stay beyond three weeks. the company was drawn chiefly from the minor theatres of the metropolis, and included leander melville, billington, seaman, phillips, mrs. barnett, mrs. campbell, and miss slater. _the stranger_ was selected for the first night, and drew a good audience, as it invariably does, wherever it is played. under the able and judicious management of nelson lee, and with a change of performances every night, good business was done to the last. the experiment was repeated with equal success at uxbridge and reading. another step towards the extinction of bartholomew fair was taken this year by the exclusion from smithfield of shows of every description; a step which would have been at least consistent, if the civic authorities had not made arrangements for the standing of shows of all kinds on a large piece of ground adjoining the new north road, called britannia fields, near the site of the britannia theatre. if the suppression of the fair had been sought on the ground of its interference with the trade and traffic of the city, this step would have been intelligible; but the moral grounds upon which it was urged served to cover with ridicule the removal of what was alleged to be a hot-bed of vice from smithfield to hoxton. what right had the corporation to demoralise the dwellers in one part of the metropolis, in order to preserve from further contamination the inhabitants of another part? bartholomew fair was reduced by this step to a dozen stalls, and from that time may be considered as practically extinct. in britannia fields, what was called new bartholomew fair was attended by the shows which of late years had resorted to smithfield and one or two others, among which was reed's theatre, the prices of admission to which ranged from sixpence to two shillings. the performances consisted of _the scottish chieftain_, in which saker played ronald, the principal character, and a pantomime called _harlequin rambler_. among the minor shows was that of hales and his sister, the norfolk giant and giantess, who issued a bill containing the following effusion of the muse that inspired the poet of mrs. jarley's wax-work:-- "miss hales and her brother are here to be seen, o come let us visit the sweet lovely queen; behold she is handsome--in manners polite-- both she and her brother near eight feet in height! i have seen all the tallest in towns far and near, but never their equal to me did appear! all england and scotland, and ireland declare, their like was ne'er seen yet in them anywhere. "here's the smallest of women creation can show, complete in proportion from top to the toe; and a lady of rank from new zealand secured, escap'd from the murder her husband endured! and a fine youthful female presented to sight, all spangled and spotted with brown and with white; large crocodiles here, and a boa behold, with a fine anaconda all glistening with gold. "here's a silver-haired lady, with skin white as snow, whose eyes are like rubies that roll to and fro! you will find her a species different from all, the black and the whites, or the low and the tall! but to sing all her beauties i need not begin, nor the fine azure veins that appear through her skin; for these, mind, no poet or painter can show, but when you behold her, o then you may know! "exhibitions like this may to us be of use-- what a contrast of creatures this world can produce! see the tallest and smallest before us in state. what a prodigy rare and phenomena great! from such wonders eccentric presented to view we now may our study of nature pursue; and philosophy truly may draw from it then, that temp'rance produces the tallest of men." hales made enough money by the exhibition of himself to purchase the lease and goodwill of a public-house in drury lane, where he lived several years. many persons visited the house purposely to see him, but he never appeared in the bar before eleven o'clock, and was careful to avoid making himself too cheap. i saw him once, in crossing the street towards his house, stoop to raise in his arms a little girl, suggesting to my mind the giant and fairy of a pantomime. in pursuance of the policy indicated in the report of , bartholomew fair, now represented by a few stalls, was proclaimed in by deputy; and this course was followed until , when not a single stall-keeper applied for space, and the ceremony of proclaiming the fair was omitted altogether. the new fair in britannia fields was held only two or three years, that concession to the showmen and to the fair-going portion of the public having been designed only for the purpose of facilitating the extinction of the old fair in smithfield. greenwich fair was the scene in of an outrageous and dastardly attack on johnson and lee's theatre by a body of soldiers from woolwich. it seems to have originated in a practical joke played by a soldier upon a young man in the crowd before the theatre, and which, being resented, was followed by an assault. on the latter retreating up the steps of the parade waggon, followed by his assailant, nelson lee interposed for his protection, and was himself assaulted by the soldier, who was thereupon ejected. a number of soldiers, witnessing the discomfiture of their comrade, immediately rushed up the steps, and began an indiscriminate attack upon everybody on the parade. the company, finding themselves over-matched, took refuge in the interior, or jumped off the parade, and fled as if for their lives. an actor named chappell stood by nelson lee after the rest had fled, but he joined in the stampede ultimately, and the proprietor of the theatre was left alone, defending himself and property against a swarm of foes. the story told long afterwards of the harlequin of the company was, that he ran without pause to the railway station, and jumped into a train just starting for london. he then ran from london bridge to shoreditch, and rushing, exhausted and excited, into a public-house adjoining the city of london theatre, gasped, "blood--soldiers--mr. lee--frightful affair--three pen'orth o' brandy!" the soldiers, having driven their opponents off the field, began destroying the front of the theatre, and smashing the lamps, which, fortunately, were not lighted. if they had been burning, the result would probably have been a terrific conflagration, which might have swept the fair, and destroyed many thousands of pounds' worth of property. nelson lee, resisting with all his might the destruction of his property, had a rope made fast round his body, and was about to be hoisted to the top of the front, when a dozen constables arrived, and the assailants immediately abandoned the field, and, leaping off the parade, mixed with the crowd. many of them were captured, however, and, being taken before a magistrate, were committed for trial at the ensuing old bailey sessions. johnson and lee withdrew from the prosecution, however, expecting that their forbearance would be rewarded by pecuniary compensation for the destruction of their property, which the recorder had suggested should be given by the officers of the regiment to which the offenders belonged; but, on application being made to the officers, they informed lee that there were _no regimental funds_ available for the purpose, and i believe not a penny was ever received by johnson and lee by way of compensation. during the whitsuntide fair, the soldiers were confined to their barracks; but, as many of them were in the habit of visiting the theatre with their friends, this measure diminished the receipts, and thus added loss to loss. johnson and lee attended no other fairs that year, but removed the theatre to croydon, where they erected it in a field adjoining the addiscombe road, near the brighton and south-eastern railway stations. henry howard and mrs. campbell played the leading characters here, and afterwards at hertford and uxbridge. wombwell died this year in his living carriage at richmond, at the age of seventy-three. he was buried in highgate cemetery, his coffin being made of oak from the timbers of the _royal george_, which sank off spithead in . as his executors were instructed by his will to have no nails used in its construction, it was put together on the dove-tailing system. the menagerie was divided in accordance with his will into three parts, which were bequeathed respectively to his widow, a niece named edmunds, and another relative named day. the expectation of such results as attended the hyde park fair of from the concourse of people flocking into the metropolis during the summer of , when the first great international exhibition was held, caused arrangements to be made for a "world's fair" on a large scale, to be held during the same time at bayswater. a committee was formed for its organisation and management, consisting of johnson and lee, algar, mussett, mills, trebeck, and young. algar was the proprietor of the crown and anchor refreshment and dancing booth, well-known to the frequenters of greenwich and croydon fairs; mussett and mills were almost as well known as leading names among the stall-keepers attending the great fairs; trebeck was a toy-dealer in sun street, bishopsgate. the undertaking was as complete a failure, however, as the fair of had been a success. the ground was in bad condition, and its softness was a difficulty at the commencement. mrs. wombwell's elephant waggon stuck in the mud, and had to be left there until the next day; and the elephant extricated himself with difficulty by lifting one leg at a time, and stepping upon trusses of straw laid down to give him a firm footing. edmunds would not venture to the ground which he had taken for his menagerie, but arranged his caravans at the entrance of the field. the weather was cold and cheerless when the fair was opened, and the railway companies had not begun running trains at low fares. when the fine weather and the excursion trains did come, the fair had come to be regarded as a failure, and it never recovered from the chill and blight of its commencement. johnson and lee's theatre appeared at greenwich fair for the last time in , and proceeded thence to uxbridge, where the company was joined by james robson, afterwards so famous as a comedian at the olympic. in the following year, the property was sold by auction, and, as a memorial of an event which has seldom occurred, and will never occur again, i subjoin the advertisement:-- "notice.--to carmen, builders, proprietors of tea gardens, exhibitors, van proprietors, travelling equestrians, providers of illuminations, &c.--the travelling theatrical property known as richardson's theatre, comprising covered vans and parade waggons, scenery, wings, stage front, orchestra, with a double stock of beautiful scenery, waterproof covering, draperies, massive chandeliers, a great quantity of baize, flags, &c. large coat of arms, variegated lamps and devices, eight capital -inch wheels, parade waggons, with two large flaps to each, two capital excursion vans, trucks, double stock of new scenery, shifting flies, fourteen long forms, large stock of book-cloths and baize of large dimensions, battened dancing-boards, erection of booths, handsome imitation stone front, two capital money-takers' boxes, with fittings up, handsome ornamental urns, large figures on pedestals, four guns and carriages, handsome pilasters, machinery, flooring throughout the building, with numerous scenery and stage devices, and every other article connected with the stage, a quantity of quartering, iron, old wheels, &c., &c., &c. which will be sold by auction by mr. lloyd, on the premises, richardson's cottage, horsemonger-lane, boro'. may be viewed, and catalogues had on the premises, and of the auctioneers, , hatfield-street, blackfriars-road." the property was completely dispersed; the timber and wood-work being purchased by builders, the waggons by wheelwrights, the canvas and tilt-cloths by farmers, and the green baize, curtains, fittings, etc., by jew dealers. there is not the shadow of a pretence, therefore, for the use of the name, "richardson's theatre," by any showman of the present day. the shows travelling after the sale and dispersion of johnson and lee's were, exclusive of menageries and exhibitions, abbott's theatre, jackman's theatre, and fossett's circus. i am not sure that reed's theatre was still in existence. abbott's theatre was at the easter fair at greenwich in , when charlie keith, since famous all over europe as "the roving english clown," was fulfilling his first engagement in it as an acrobat. robson, the comedian, was at the same time performing in jackman's theatre, from which he transferred his services to johnson and lee's. fossett's circus was pitched that summer at primrose hill for a few days, when one of the irregular fairs which are occasionally held in the neighbourhood of london was held. it is a small concern, with only two or three horses. miss fossett, the proprietor's daughter, is a tight-rope performer, in which capacity she appeared a few years ago in talliott's circus, when the company and stud appeared one winter in a temporary building at the rear of some small houses in new street, lambeth walk. james talliott, to whom the houses belong, was then well known to the frequenters of the london music-halls, and may be remembered as a trapeze performer in conjunction with burnett, who called himself burnetti, but was known among the professional fraternity as bruiser. he afterwards performed singly at the strand music-hall, now the gaiety theatre, and other places of amusement in the metropolis, and has since owned a small circus, with which he travels during the summer within a circle of a dozen miles from london. hilton's menagerie had at this time passed into the possession of manders, and the lion-tamer of the show was an irishman named james strand, who had formerly kept a gingerbread-stall, and had been engaged to perform with the beasts when those attractive exhibitions had been threatened with temporary suspension by the abruptness with which his predecessor, newsome--a brother, i believe, to the circus-proprietor of that name--had terminated his engagement. strand's qualifications for the profession were not equal to his own estimate of them, however, and manders had to look out for his successor. one day, when the menagerie was at greenwich fair, a powerful-looking negro accosted one of the musicians, saying that he was a sailor just returned from a voyage, and would like a berth in the show. the musician communicated the man's wish to manders, and the negro was invited to enter the show. his appearance and confident manner impressed the showman favourably, and, on his being allowed to enter the lion's cage, at his own request, he displayed so much address and ability to control the animals that he was engaged at once, and "the gingerbread king," as strand was called, was informed that his services could, for the future, be dispensed with. this remarkable black man was the famous macomo, who for several years afterwards travelled with the menagerie, exhibiting in his performances with lions and tigers as much daring as van amburgh, and as much coolness as crockett. one of the finest tigers ever imported into this country, and said to be the identical beast that escaped from mr. jamrach's premises in st. george's street (better known by its old name of ratcliffe highway), and killed a boy before it was recaptured, was purchased by manders, and placed in a cage with another tiger. the two beasts soon began fighting furiously, upon which macomo entered the cage, armed only with a riding-whip, and attempted to separate them. his efforts caused both the tigers to turn their fury upon him, and they severely lacerated him; but, covered with blood as he was, he continued the struggle for supremacy until the beasts cowered before him, and he was able, with the assistance of the keepers, to separate them. it is worthy of remark, in connection with the causes of accidents with lions and tigers, that macomo, like crockett, was a strictly sober man, never touching intoxicating liquors of any kind. "it's the drink," said the ex-lion king, who was interviewed by the special commissioner of a london morning journal two years ago; "it's the drink that plays the mischief with us fellows. there are plenty of people always ready to treat the daring fellow that plays with the lions as if they were kittens; and so he gets reckless, lets the dangerous animal--on which, if he were sober, he would know he must always keep his eye--get dodging round behind him; or hits a beast in which he ought to know that a blow rouses the sleeping devil; or makes a stagger, and goes down, and then they set upon him." macomo's fight with the two tigers was not the only occasion on which he received injuries, the scars of which he bore upon him to the day of his death, which, contrary to the expectation of every one who witnessed his performances, was a peaceful one. he died a natural death in , when he was succeeded by an irishman named macarthy, who had previously been attached in a similar capacity to the circus of messrs. bell and myers. while performing, in , with the lions belonging to that establishment, he had had his left arm so severely mangled by one of the beasts that amputation became necessary. this circumstance seems to have added to the _éclat_ of his performances; but he had neither the nerve of macomo, nor his resolution to abstain from stimulants. unlike his predecessor, he frequently turned his back upon the lions, though he had frequently been cautioned against the danger he thereby incurred; and it was believed that his disregard of the warning was one of the causes of the terrible encounter which terminated his existence. macarthy was bitten on two occasions while performing with manders's lions, prior to the disaster at bolton. the first time was while performing at edinburgh, when one of the beasts made a snap at his remaining arm, but only slightly grazed it. the second occasion was a few days before the fatal accident occurred, when one of the lions bit him slightly on the wrist. he lost his life in representing a so-called "lion hunt," an exhibition which was introduced by macomo, and consists in chasing the animals about the cage, the performer being armed with a sword and pistols, and throwing into the mimic sport as much semblance of reality as the circumstances allow. the exhibition is acknowledged by lion-tamers themselves to be a dangerous one, and it should never be attempted with any but young animals. for their ordinary performances, most lion-tamers prefer full-grown animals, as being better trained; but a full-grown lion does not like to be driven and hustled about, as the animals are in the so-called "lion hunt," and when such are used for this exhibition they are frequently changed. macarthy was driving the animals from one end of the cage to the other when one of them ran against his legs, and threw him down. he soon regained his feet, however, and drove the animals into a corner. whilst stamping his feet upon the floor, to make the animals run past him, one of them crept stealthily out from the group, and sprang upon him, seizing him by the right hip and throwing him down upon his side. for a moment the spectators imagined that this was part of the performance, but macarthy's agonised features soon convinced them of the terrible reality of the scene before them. as he struggled to rise, three other lions sprang upon him, one of them seizing his arm, from which he immediately dropped the sword. the keepers now hurried to the unfortunate man's assistance, some of them endeavouring to beat off the infuriated lions, while others inserted a partition between the bars of the cage, with a view to driving the animals behind it. this was a task of considerable difficulty, however, for as one beast was obliged to relinquish its hold of the unfortunate man, another rushed into its place. heated irons were then brought, and by their aid, and the discharge of fire-arms, four of the lions were driven behind the partition. macarthy was lying in the centre of the cage, still being torn by the lion that had first attacked him. a second partition was attempted to be inserted, but was found to be too large; and then one of the keepers drew the first one out a little, with the view of driving the fifth lion among the rest. more blank cartridges were fired, without effect, and it was not until the hot irons were applied to the nose of the infuriated brute that it loosed its hold, and ran behind the partition. even then, before the opening could be closed, the lion ran out again, seized the dead or dying man by one of his feet and dragged him into the corner, where four of the beasts again fell upon him with unsatiated thirst of blood. the terrible scene had now been going on for a quarter of an hour, and, even when all the animals were at length secured, it was found that they were next the entrance of the cage, the opposite end of which had to be broken open before the mangled corpse of the lion-tamer could be lifted out. as lion-tamers are well paid, and this was only the second fatal accident in the course of half a century, it is not surprising that, as soon as the catastrophe became known, there were several candidates for the vacancy created by macarthy's death. mrs. manders had resolved to discontinue the exhibition, however, and the applicants for the situation received an intimation to that effect. mrs. wombwell retired from the menagerie business in , and was succeeded in the proprietorship by fairgrieve, who had married her niece. fairgrieve retired from the occupation in the spring of , when his fine collection of animals was sold by auction at edinburgh. as the public sale of a menagerie is a rare event, and mr. jamrach and mr. rice do not publish prices current, the reader may be glad to learn the prices realised. the first lot was a racoon--"a very pleasant, playful pet," the auctioneer said--which was knocked down to the earl of roseberry for one pound. mr. bell lamonby, another private collector, became the possessor of a pair of agoutis; which he was assured were "sharp, active little animals, and could sing like canaries," for an equally moderate sum. then came a strange-looking and ferocious animal called the tasmanian devil, of which there is a specimen in the gardens of the zoological society, and which the auctioneer assured his hearers was as strong in the jaw as a hyena, but not to be recommended for purchase as a domestic pet. bids were slow, and even the prospect of purchasing the devil for three pounds did not render buyers enthusiastic; so that mrs. day bought the animal for five shillings more. then came the baboons and monkeys. the diana monkey, a white and rose-breasted little animal, was purchased by dr. mackendrick for seven pounds; while the capuchin monkey, full of intelligence, and belonging to a kind fancied by italian organ-grinders, was knocked down to mr. rice for thirty shillings. mr. jamrach purchased the drill, "a playful little drawing-room pet, worth twenty pounds to put on the kitchen shelf to look at," for five guineas; and mr. rice paid thirty pounds for a male mandrill, five for a female of the same species, eighteen guineas for a pair of anubis baboons, and fifteen pounds for five dog-faced baboons. passing on to the bird carriage, the first specimen submitted to competition was the black vulture, one of the largest birds of the species, and in excellent plumage. mr. rice bought this bird for three pounds ten shillings, and the condor, which had been forty years in the show, for fifteen pounds. next came the emu, "a very suitable bird for a gentleman's park, and a nice show thing for the ladies in the morning, after breakfast," which mrs. day secured for her collection at seven pounds. mr. jamrach gave thirteen pounds for the pair of pelicans, bought at the sale of the knowsley collection, and which had been trained to run races. the fine collection of parrots, macaws, and cockatoos was dispersed among a number of local fanciers of ornithological beauties. proceeding to the larger mammals, the auctioneer knocked down a male nylghau to mr. van amburgh, the great american menagerist, for twenty-six pounds, and a female of the same species to the proprietor of the manchester zoological gardens for ten guineas; while mr. jamrach secured a llama for fifteen pounds, and mr. rice a young kangaroo for twelve pounds. professor edwards, who had come over from paris to pick up a few good specimens for the jardin des plantes, purchased the white bear, "young, healthy, and lively as a trout," for forty pounds, and a jackal for three pounds. a thibet bear and three performing leopards were knocked down to mr. jamrach for five guineas and sixty pounds respectively. another leopard, advanced in years, realised only six guineas. mr. van amburgh secured the spotted hyena for fifteen pounds; while a performing striped hyena brought only five shillings above three pounds. among objects of minor interest, a pair of wolves were sold for two guineas, an ocelot for six pounds ten shillings, three porcupines for ten pounds more, a wombat for seven pounds, a malabar squirrel for five pounds, and a pair of boa constrictors for twelve pounds. the large carnivora excited much attention, and fair prices were realised, though in some instances they were less than was expected. mr. rice gave a hundred and eighty-five pounds for the famous lion with which signor lorenzo used to represent the well-known story of androcles, two other lions for a hundred and forty pounds each, two young ones for ninety pounds each, and a lioness for eighty pounds. a black-maned lion, said to be the largest and handsomest lion in britain, was sold to mr. jackson, for the bristol zoological gardens, for two hundred and seventy pounds; and his mate, in the interesting condition of approaching maternity, to mr. jennison, of the belle vue gardens, manchester, for a hundred guineas. mr. jamrach gave two hundred pounds for a fine lion, and a hundred and fifty-five pounds for the magnificent tigress that used to figure conspicuously in the performances of signor lorenzo. mr. rice, who was the largest purchaser, bought the gnu for eighty-five pounds, and the zebra for fifty pounds. the camels and dromedaries, bought principally for travelling menageries, realised from fourteen to thirty pounds each, with the exception of a young one, bought by dr. mackendrick for nine pounds ten shillings. menagerists restrict the word "camel" to the two-humped or bactrian variety, and call the one-humped kind dromedaries; but the dromedary, according to naturalists, is a small variety of the syrian camel, bearing the same relation to the latter as a pony does to a horse. the dromedaries of mr. fairgrieve's collection were, on the contrary, taller than the bactrian camels. there was a spirited competition for the two elephants, ending in the magnificent full-tusked male, seven feet six inches in height, being knocked down to mr. jennison for six hundred and eighty pounds, and the female, famous for her musical performances, to mr. rice for a hundred and forty-five pounds. the former animal was described as the largest and cleverest performing elephant ever exhibited. in stature he is exceeded, it is said, by the elephant kept by the emperor of russia at the gardens of tsarski-seloe; but, while the performances of that beast have been confined to the occasional killing of a keeper, the animal now in the belle vue gardens at manchester, besides performing many tricks evincing great docility and intelligence, was accustomed to draw the band carriage, would pull a loaded waggon up a hill, and had for the last eighteen months preceding the sale placed all the vans of the menagerie in position, with the assistance of a couple of men. the entire proceeds of the sale were a little under three thousand pounds. i do not remember ever visiting a travelling menagerie that afforded me greater pleasure than one of the smaller class which i saw some thirty years ago at mitcham fair, and subsequently at camberwell fair. there were no lions or tigers in the collection, but it included four performing leopards, a tame hyena, and a wolf that seemed equally tame, if such an inference could be drawn from the presence of a lamb in its cage. the showman, who wore neither spangled trunks, nor a coat of chain-mail, but corduroy breeches and a sleeved vest of cat's skin, entered the leopard's cage, with a riding whip in one hand and a hoop in the other. the animals leaped over the whip, through the hoop, and over the man's back, exhibiting throughout the performance as much docility as dogs or cats. the whip was used merely as part of the "properties." the man afterwards entered the cage of the hyena, which rubbed its head against him, after the manner of a cat, and allowed him to open its mouth. the hyena has the reputation of being untameable; but, in addition to this instance to the contrary, bishop heber had a hyena at calcutta which followed him about like a dog. tigers are little used as performing animals, partly perhaps from being less easily procured, but also, i believe, from greater distrust of them on the part of brute-tamers. there was a splendid tigress in fairgrieve's menagerie, however, with which signor lorenzo used to do a wonderful performance; and i saw, some five-and-thirty years ago, in a show pitched upon a piece of waste ground at norwood, a tiger that played a prominent part in a sensational drama, the interest of which was evolved from the hair-breadth escapes of a british traveller in the wilds of africa. the author did not seem to have been aware that there are no tigers in that part of the world, the animals so called by the cape colonists being leopards; but, as the old woman who took money replied to my remonstrance that one tiger could not, without an outrage upon lindley murray, be called performing _animals_, "what can you expect for a penny?" the old showmen are now virtually extinct, and the london fairs have all ceased to exist. "old bartlemy" died hard, but its time must soon have come, in the natural order of things. its extinction was followed closely by that of all the other fairs formerly held in the suburbs of the metropolis. camberwell fair was abolished in , and the greenwich fairs in the following year. i cannot better express my opinion as to the causes which have led to the decline of fairs generally, but especially of those held within half an hour's journey from the metropolis, and the suppression of most of those formerly held within a shorter distance, than by quoting a brief dialogue between a showman and an acrobat in 'bob lumley's secret,' a story which appeared anonymously a few years ago in a popular periodical:-- "'fairs is nearly worked out, joe,' said the red-faced individual, speaking between the whiffs of blue smoke from his _dhudeen_. 'why, i can remember the time when my old man used to take more money away from this fair with the russian giant, and the polish dwarf, and the circassian lady, than i can make now in a month. them was the times, when old adam lee, the romany, used to come to this fair with his coat buttons made of guineas, and his waistcoat buttons of seven-shilling pieces. ah, you may laugh, joey alberto; but i have heard my old man speak of it many's the time.' "'there's good fairs now down in the shires,' observed the younger man; 'but this town is too near the big village.' "'that's it!' exclaimed the showman. 'it's all along o' them blessed railways. they brings down lots o' people, it is true; but, lor'! they don't spend half the money the yokels used to in former times.' "'besides which,' rejoined he of the spangled trunks, 'the people about here can run up to london and back for a shilling any day in the week, all the year round, and see all the living curiosities in the zoo, and the stuffed ones in the museum, and go in the evening to a theatre or a music-hall.'" the fair referred to was the october fair at croydon; and i may add that views similar to those which i have put into the mouths of the acrobat and the showman were expressed to me in by a showman named gregory, who exhibited various natural curiosities and well-contrived mechanical representations of the falls of niagara and a storm at sea. he had just received from the printer five thousand bills, which he carefully stowed away. "this fair don't pay for bills," said he. "i want these for canterbury fair, where there's more money to be taken in one day than in this field in three." "which do you reckon the best fair in your circuit?" i inquired. "sandwich," he replied. "that's a good distance from london, you see, and though it's a smaller town than this, there's plenty of money in it. this is too near london, now the rail enables people to go there and back for a shilling, see all the sights and amusements, and get back home the same night." the fairs within half an hour's journey from london which are still held are in a state of visible decadence. i walked through kingston fair last year, about three o'clock in the afternoon, at which time croydon fair would, even twenty or thirty years ago, have been crowded. the weather was unusually fine, the sun shining with unwonted brilliance for the season, and the ground in better condition for walking than i had ever seen the field at croydon on the nd of october. yet there were fewer people walking through the fair than i had seen in the market-place. the gingerbread vendors and other stall-keepers looked as if they were weary of soliciting custom in vain; the swings and the roundabouts stood idle; some of the showmen had not thought the aspect of the field sufficiently promising to be encouraged to unfurl their pictorial announcements, and those who had done so failed to attract visitors. day's menagerie was there, and was the principal show in the fair; but the few persons who paused to gaze at the pictures passed on without entering, and even the beasts within were so impressed with the pervading listlessness and inactivity that i did not hear a sound from the cages as i walked round to the rear of the show to observe its extent. there was no braying of brass bands, no beating of gongs or bawling through speaking-trumpets. one forlorn showman ground discordant sounds from a barrel-organ with an air of desperation, and another feebly clashed a pair of cymbals; but these were all the attempts made to attract attention, and they were made in vain. this was on saturday afternoon, too, when a large number of the working classes are liberated who could not formerly have attended the fair at that time without taking a holiday. there was a good attendance in the evening, i heard; but, however well the shows and stalls may be patronised after six o'clock, it is obvious that their receipts must be less than half what they amounted to in the days when they were thronged from noon till night. fairs are becoming extinct because, with the progress of the nation, they have ceased to possess any value in its social economy, either as marts of trade or a means of popular amusement. all the large towns now possess music-halls, and many of them have a theatre; the most populous have two or three. the circuses of newsome and hengler are located for three months at a time in permanent buildings in the larger towns, and the travelling circuses visit in turn every town in the kingdom. bristol and manchester have zoological gardens, and brighton has its interesting aquarium. the railways connect all the smaller towns, and most of the villages, with the larger ones, in which amusements may be found superior to any ever presented by the old showmen. what need, then, of fairs and shows? the nation has outgrown them, and fairs are as dead as the generations which they have delighted, and the last showman will soon be as great a curiosity as the dodo. index abbott's theatrical booth, adams, the dancer, african dwarfs, albinoes, , , albion dancing-booth, algar's dancing-booth, , , , allen, the dwarf, ambroise, the showman, amburgh, van, the lion-tamer, american juggler, annesley, mrs., the dancer, appleby, the showman, arthur, the comedian, astley, the equestrian, aston, the comedian, , atkins's menagerie, , , , baker, mrs., the theatrical manageress, ball, the showman, , , ballard's animal comedians, " menagerie, , , , , banks and his performing horse, barnes, the showman, " " pantaloon, barnett, mrs., the actress, basil, the showman, baudouin, the comic dancer, bearded women, , belzoni's feats of strength, berar's _optikali illusio_, biffin, miss, the armless portrait painter, , billington, the comedian, birds, performing, , , bisset, the animal trainer, blacker, the dwarf, blight, helen, the lion-performer, boheme, the tragedian, booth, the theatrical manager, bradshaw, miss, the actress, breslaw, the conjuror, , bridge's theatrical booth, , broomsgrove, the showman, brown, the showman, , brown's theatre of arts, brunn, the juggler, bullock, the comedian, , , , , , , burchall, the showman, burnett, the trapezist, cadman, the flying man, campbell, mrs., the actress, , , canterel, mrs., the actress, capelli, the conjuror, carey, the actor, , cartlitch, the actor, cats, performing, , chapman, mary anne, the albino, " miss, the lion-performer, " the comedian, , , , , , chappell, the actor, " the showman, charke, mrs., the actress, cheshire girl, wonderful, chettle's theatrical booth, chetwood, the prompter, chinese jugglers, , " lady, christoff, the rope-dancer, cibber, the tragedian, , circassian lady, clancy, the giant, clark, the posturer, clarke's circus, , , , clarke, miss, the rope-dancer, clarkson, the showman, clench, the whistling man, coan, the dwarf, cooke's circus, corder, the murderer, head of, cornwell, the showman, corsican dwarf, , cousins's theatrical booth, cow, a double, cox, the comedian, crawley, the puppet-showman, crockett, the showman, crocodile, the first exhibited, crowther, the actor, cushings, the pantomimists, , dale's music booth, dancey, mrs. and miss, the dancers, day, the showman, day's menagerie, , dawson, the dwarf, derrum, miss, the female tumbler, doggett, the comedian, , dogs, performing, , , , drury's menagerie, ducrow, madame, the rope-dancer, dunstall's theatrical booth, dupain, the showman, dutch boy, wonderful, " rope-dancer, , dwarf family, dyan, ursula, the bearded woman, edmunds, the menagerist, , egleton, mrs., the actress, elephant, performing, " escape of an, , elliston, the theatrical manager, england, the flying pieman, esquimaux youth, evans, the wire-walker, ewing's wax-work exhibition, , excell, the duettist, fairgrieve's menagerie, farnham, the dwarf, faucit, the actor, fawkes, the conjuror, , , " " showman, , , , ferguson's wax-work exhibition, fielding, the novelist, , , , , , , finch, the posturer, finley, the acrobat, " mary, the rope-dancer, , fitzgerald, mrs., the actress, , fives court drinking booth, flemish giantess, flockton, the juggler and showman, , , , ford, the gingerbread vendor, fossett's circus, frano, mdlle. de, the dancer, frazer, the conjuror, frazer's acrobatic entertainment, freer, the tragedian, french, the single-stick player, gaetano, the bird imitator, garrick, the actor, german rope-dancers, , , giffard, the theatrical manager, , gipsies' drinking booth, girardelli, josephine, the fire-eater, glee-men and glee-maidens, gobert, madame, the athlete, godwin, the showman, goodwin's theatrical booth, gouffe, the man-monkey, gregory, the showman, griffin, the actor, , , grosette, the actor, grove's theatre of arts, gyngell, the showman, , , haines, the fire-eater, hales, the norfolk giant, hall, the rope-dancer, , " " actor, , hall's museum, hallam, the tragedian, , , , , , , harper, the comedian, , , , , , , harris, the cat imitator, harris, the showman, haydon's theatrical booth, heads, lecture on, heidegger, master of the revels, herring, the pantomimist, , hewet, the comedian, hilton's menagerie, , , hilton, miss, the lion-performer, hind, the actor, hippisley, the tragedian, , , , , , , , " miss, the actress, hipson, miss, the fat girl, hoare, the showman, hocus pocus, the king's conjuror, hog, enormous, holden's glass-blowing exhibition, , holland's, lady, mob, , , horses, performing, , , , , , , , horton, mrs., the actress, howard, the actor, , hoyo's wax-work exhibition, hulett, the comedian, , , , hussey's theatrical booth, , , , hyenas, tame, , inchbald, elizabeth, the actress, irish giant, italian rope-dancer, " sword-dancers, ives, the showman, jack, manchester, the lion-keeper, jackman's theatrical booth, jano, the rope-dancer, , jefferies, the actor, jobson, the puppet-showman, , , johnson, the showman, , " and lee's theatrical booth, , , , , , , , kean, the tragedian, , keith, the clown, keyes and laine, the conjurors, killigrew, charles, master of the revels, " thomas, the king's jester, lacy, mrs., the actress, ladder dance, laguerre, the actor, lane, the conjuror, laskey, the showman, lee, nelson, the theatrical manager, , , , lee's theatrical booth, , , , , , , , , , , " unlicensed theatre, legar, the actor, leigh, the comedian, leopard, escape of a, " a tame, , leopards, performing, , lincolnshire dwarf, lion, a tame, , , " baiting with dogs, lioness, escape of a, lion-tiger cubs, , , little, the comedian-hawker, living skeleton, the, lorenzo, the lion performer, lorme, madlle. de, the dancer, luce, the dancer, macarthy, the lion performer, mackenzie, the hermit, macklin, the comedian, macomo, the lion performer, madagascar woman, mahoura, the cannibal chief, head of, malay savages, manchester jack, the lion keeper, manders's menagerie, march, the clown, maori woman, , mare with seven feet, master of the revels, office of, matthews, the dancer, maughan, the showman, melville, the actor, menagerie, the first, mermaids, , miles's music booth, , " menagerie, miller, the comedian, , , , , mills, the comedian, , , monkeys, performing, , , , , , monstrosities, , , , , , , , , , morgan, the comedian, " miss, the dwarf, morgan's menagerie, , morosini, the rope-dancer, mullart, the tragedian, mussulmo, the rope-dancer, mynn's theatrical booth, negro, wonderful, newman and allen's theatrical booth, newsome, the lion performer, nichols, the comedian, nokes, mrs., the actress, oates, the comedian, , , , , " miss, the actress, , o'brien, the irish giant, , ogden, mrs., the dancer, oronutu savage, orsi, the singer, owen, the clown, oxberry, the comedian, paap, the dwarf, pack, the comedian, palmer, the theatrical bill-sticker, parker's theatrical booth, peep-shows, , , penkethman, the elder, comedian, , , , " " younger, comedian, , , , , penley, the showman, perry's menagerie, persian giant, peters, the comic dancer, petit, the showman, phantasmagorial exhibitions, philips, the fiddler and clown, , phillips, the posturer, " " showman, " " comedian, " mrs., the dancer, " the welsh dwarf, pidcock's menagerie, pierce, the gigantic shropshire youth, pig-faced lady, , pigs, learned, , , , , pike's theatrical booth, pinchbeck, the mechanist, , , , , pinkethman, the puppet showman, polito's menagerie, , powell, the comedian, " " fire-eater, " " puppet showman, price, the equestrian, pritchard, mrs., the actress, , , pullen's theatrical booth, punch and judy shows, punchinello, the puppet showman, purden, mrs., the actress, quin, the comedian, rapinese, the posturer, ray, the comedian, rayner's theatrical booth, " the tumbler, " miss, the rope-dancer, reader, the showman, reed, the actor, , reed's theatrical booth, reverant, madlle. de, the rope-dancer, reynolds, the comedian, , " " showman, , richardson, the fire-eater, " " showman, , , , , , , , , river, the tumbler, roberts, the tragedian, roberts, mrs., the actress, robinson, the conjuror, robson, the comedian, , rose's, miss, imitations of actresses, rossignol, the bird trainer, , roy, madlle. le, the dancer, rudderford, the mountebank, ryan, the comedian, , , saffery, the rope-vaulter, saffry's theatrical booth, saker, the comedian, , salway, the comedian, samwell, the showman, , saunders, sarah, actress and acrobat, " the showman, , , , scotch dwarf, " giant, scowton's theatrical booth, , seaman, the actor, serpents, performing, settle, the dramatist, shaw, miss, the beautiful albino, " the harlequin, shuter, the comedian, , , silver-haired lady, , simmett, the showman, simpson, the vaulter, skeleton, the living, slater, miss, the columbine, smith, the hand-bell ringer, spanish youth, wonderful, spellman, mrs., the actress, spiller, the comedian, " mrs., the actress, , , spotted boy, " girl, steward, the slack-wire performer, stock, elizabeth, the giantess, stokes, the vaulter, strand, the lion performer, strength, feats of, , , , sword dancers, , talliott's circus, tarvey, the clown, taylor, the dancer, terwin, the showman, thwaites, the actor, thompson, the comic dancer, tiger, a tame, , tigers, performing, tarbutt, the comedian, , turkish rope-dancer, , " wire-walker, , vanbeck, barbara, the bearded woman, vaughan, the actor, vidina, signora, the singer, violantes, the, rope-walkers, walker, the comedian, wallack, the actor, walpole, lydia, the dwarf, , warner's theatrical booth, , , waterloo giant, wax-work exhibition, the first, webber, eliza, the dwarf, wells, the actor, welsh dwarf, weston, priscilla and amelia, the twin giantesses, whitehead, the fat boy, whiteland, the dwarf, wignell, the poet, williamson, mrs., the actress, wombwell's menagerie, , , , , , , , , , , woodward, harlequin and actor, , , woolford, miss, the rope-dancer, wright's menagerie, yates, the comedian, , , , , , " mrs., the actress, " miss, the actress, yeates, the showman, , , , " the conjuror, , , , , , , , , " mrs., the actress, yorkshire giantess, the end. printed by taylor and co., little queen street, lincoln's inn fields. transcriber's notes: passages in italics are indicated by _italics_. the original text includes an asterism symbol that is represented as [asterism] in this text version. the original text includes a right pointing hand symbol that is represented as [pointing hand] in this text version.